COLL. CHRISTI. REGIS,
BIB. MAJ.
/ / TORONTO .
/
Y /* r **?
THE
LIVES OF THE FATHERS
EASTEEN DESERTS.
BY THE HEY. Dll. CHALLONEK.
Nctu STorft:
!> ft J. 8ADIIER & CO., 31 BARCLAY STREET
BOSTON : 1 J* FEDERAL STREET
1863
35S97
THE LIVES
OF
OF THE
Dmris;
OR
THE WILDERNESS.
TO WHICH IS ADDED AN APPENDIX,
NEW-YORK:
1) & J. SADLIER & Co. 31 BARCLAY -STREE 1 }
M O N T H E A I,, C . E :
F-\A^CIS XAVIEH VXD NOTRK-DA
Copyrighted by
D. & J. SADLIEB & CO,
1868.
CONTENTS.
POE.
PREFACE - 5
Introduction ~ .. . .. 9
Si. John the Baptist - - 11
St. Paul, the first hermit - ?4
St. Antony . 46
St. Hilaiion .. .. .. ~ $;j
St. Malchus - 114
SS. Pachomius and Palemei. -. - l-2-j
S f . Ainmon .. .. .. ~ 153
St. Paul the Simple [^
S: . Macavius, the Elder - - 171
St. Macarius of Alexandria - - 19Q
SS. Isidore and Pambo .. .. .. 203
j t Julian Sabbas - .. .. .. 214
St. Abraham .. . 221
St. John of Egypt - . 235
St Arsenius .. .. 24S
St. Nilammon .. .. .. 255
St Simon Stylites .. .. 2o7
>! Euthymius .. .. .. .. .. 273
St Theodosius the Ceniobarch 291
CONTENTS.
*t Jjhn the Silent ........ - 317
St. John Climachus 329
St. John the Almoner 34C
St. Syncletica - - 371
St. Thais the Penitent ...... 3SO
St. Pelagia the Penitent - 3S4
St. Mary of Egypt - 393
St. Jerome ............ 412
SS. Basil the Great, and Gregory Nazianzen 437
St. John Chrysostom. 4S9
APPENDIS.
A Collection of remarkable Sayings, Aphorisms, and
Examples, of the Eastern Solitaries, out of Rufinus, 537
Out of an ancient writer, translated by Pelagius the
Deacon, ~ - - .. 555
Out of the Spiritual Meadow of John Moschus and
8t Souhronius. - 973
IP as
" THE SAINTS OF THE DESERT ! " what a
subject to be brought before the- minds of this
worldly-wise and self- worshipping generation !
how can men and women who live but to indulge
their tastes, and fancies, and gratify their pas
sions, understand or appreciate the antiquated
custom of crucifying the flesh, and macerating
the body by vigils and fasts, and giving up all
the fascinations of this world to devote the
whole being, heart, and soul to God from whom
it came ? " And then it is only the Catholics
who practise these things, or are at all influ
enced by such notions. It is only the Church
of Rome that inculcates such unnatural doc
trines, and teaches people to forget themselves
and be as though they were not." Very true,
and it is only for Catholics that these pages
VI PREFACE.
are expected to have any interest. We have no
idea of penetrating the depths of the burning
deserts, and entering the cavern or cell where
the solitary abides in uninterrupted commune
with his God, to lay bare the beautiful recesses
the calm, untroubled depths of his super-human
soul merely to expose them to the derision of
the unbeliever. The saints of the desert the
religious of the cloisters all the monastic or
ders whether active or contemplative are the
pride and glory of the Church they are her
richest treasures her chosen children, who sit
ever at her feet drinking in her divine precepts
and literally putting them in practice ; they are
the blooming wreaths wherewith she crowns her
beloved Spouse, because they are His faithful
imitators, and her docile pupils. It is true
very true that the children of this world who
are wiser in their generation than the children of
light have little or nothing in common with these
saintly personages, and that in their eyes our
Anthonys, our Anselms, our Teresas, nay even
our Jeromes, our Gregorys, and our Basils beai
PREFACE. Vl
but a sorry figure nay, the divine Precursor
himself the first of our solitaries must seem
little better than a fool, because he practised,
to the very letter, this spirit of self-denial which
the world cannot understand, but which the
Church of God has ever inculcated, and still
does inculcate.
This work of Dr. Challoner s has long been
familiar to the Catholic public, and it is a very
fair collection of the EMINENT SAINTS OF THE
DESERT, but on looking over it recently, prior
to its re-publication, it struck me that there
were a few important omissions. I looked in
vain for the lives of St. Jerome St. Gregory
Nazianzen, or his illustrious friend, St. Basil the
Great, and knowing that some portion of the
lives of each of those great saints was spent a
solitude, I thought it would be an acceptable
addition to the work to give the monastic lives
of those three illustrious doctors, who have
rendered and do still render such invaluable
service to the Church. This portion of their
lives I found in a French work er titled Vies del
ffil PREFACE.
Peres du desert, and it is with much pleasure
that I now give their rightful place to these three
great Fathers of the Oriental Church. As for
the style of the translation I shall say nothing,
for I had only to make the best of a bad bar
gain, as there was no style at all in the original.
However, in a work of this kind, which is chiefly
read by pious Christians, I have not much to
dread from criticism, and with that conviction I
proceeded in my task, being more anxious to do
honor to the sainted memory of these great
men who may be truly called " pillars of the
Church " than to produce a finished piece of
composition.
3&. a. *.
MONTREAL, July 1352
INTRODUCTION.
AMONGST the various departments of reading, none can
be more interesting than that which records the actions
of men who have rendered themselves illustrious by
their wisdom, their heroism, or their eminent virtues.
In the Lives of the Saints of the Oriental Deserts, the
reader will find an heroism that exceeds the natural
powers of man ; a wisdom, in comparison of which
that of a Socrates or a Solon is but childishness (for
wisdom becomes more or less estimable in proportion
to the value of the objects that attract its attention)
hence the virtues of the illustrious characters whose
memoirs are the subject of the subsequent pages, as
far surpass those of the most exalted characters of
Pagan antiquity, as man in a state of nature is sur
passed by the angelic spirits.
Many traits will be found in their lives that cannot
accord with the enervated delicacy of modern ideas
and habits, pre-occupied, as they unfortunately are, by
the false maxims and vitiated manners of an age that
labors to substitute a vain philosophy, the pander of
every passion, in lieu of divine revelation, which nor
only commands and afford the means of their subjuga
tion, but also invites us to erect on their ruins tha
fabric of evangelical perfection.
I INTRODtCTlON.
The Almighty has at all times inspired his servants
with a conduct suitable to the exigencies of the age in
which they lived, making them all to all, in order tu
gain all to himself. Reasonings and exhortations-
make but a feeble impression on ignorant or brutal
men, accustomed to blood and pillage ; men who, as
they had been trained up in the fatigues of war, and
were always in the harness, hardened in vicious
habits and blinded by hereditary errors, would have
esteemed ordinary austerities a, to nothing ; but when
they witnessed an absolute contempt of all earthly
comforts in an Antony, a Macarius, <fec. the severe
chastisements they inflicted on themselves, and their
alacrity in assuaging the corporal as well as the spirit
ual necessities of others, which proceeded to such a
length as even to do penance for them, what could
they infer, but that they loved God and their neighbor
with an ardor at once holy and invincible. With
minds therefore deeply impressed with so edifying an
exterior, they became more docile ; and from listening
to those whom they so greatly admired, at length be
came proselytes to the holy religion they professed.
Thus St. Abraham, by his invincible patience and
meekness under a series of the most cruel outrages
for the space of three years, more than by his preach
ing, subdued the olindness and obstinacy of the Pagans
near Edessa, who were at length obliged to acknow
ledge, " that the God whom he preached must be the
INTRODUCTION. 13
true God, and the religion which taught him so much
patience and charity, the true religion." Thus Theo-
doret witnessed Simon Stylites from his pillar receiving
the abjuration of multitudes of Iberians, Armenians.
Persians, and Saracens, who, in his presence, with a
loud voice renounced their idols, and trampled them
under foqt. And thus barbarians and infidels of dis
tant regions frequently invoked with success, protection
amidst the dangers of the sea, in the name of the God
of Theodosius.
But it is not in Pagan or barbarian nations only,
that the lives of these illustrious men have contributed
to promote the cause of God and virtue : St. Chry-
sostom, who was no less distinguished for his learning
and accomplishments, than for being the metropolitan
of the Eastern Empire, recommends (Horn. 8. in Matt.
7. p. 128,) the reading the life of St. Antony, as re
plete with instruction and edification ; and St. Augus-
tin, in the eighth book of his Confessions, chap. 6,
gives a minute detail of the conversion of two courtiers
in the emperor s service, who had renounced the world
by accidentally reading the life of St. Antony ; and
moreover attributes his own conversion in a great
measure to the same cause.
There was a time when the bare testimonies either
of St. Chrysostom or St. Augustin, would render any
further arguments in favor of a work of this kind un*
Jfii INTRODUCTION.
necessary ; but, unfortunately in an age wherein seep
ticism and infidelity are so prevalent, the most vener
able authority or incontestible evidence in support of
miraculous or supernatural events, whether of an an
cient or modern date, will not always satisfy the weak
or temporising amongst those who consider themselves
of the number of the faithful who generally listen
with indifference, or treat with disdain and derision,
the bare mention of a miracle ; for stupidity itself will
on such occasions assume the office of censor, and as
pire to wit, when tinctured by the buffoon philosophy
of Voltaire s school.
A distinguished modern, MONTESQUIEU, whose works
are supposed to have promoted the French- Re volution,
imagines the spectres that tempted the otherwise as
sailed St. Antony and others, to have been metaphor
ical ; whereas such a supposition, if admitted as a
truth, would not only invalidate the testimonies of SS.
A.thanasius, Jerome, Cyril, &c. but even the holy
Scriptures themselves, Wisd. xvii. where it is said, that
during the Egyptian darkness, the infernal spirits in
creased the terror of the inhabitants by frightful ap
paritions; of whose existence even the Pagan poet
Virgil seems to have had some idea.
Yet be not overbold,
The slippery God will try to loose his hold ;
And various forms assume to cheat thy sight ;
And with vain images of beasts affright
INTRODUCTION". lfl
With foamy tusks will seem a bristly boar,
Or imitate the lion s angry roar ;
Break out in crackling flames to shun tny snare,
Or hiss a dragon, or a tiger stare ;
Or with a wife thy caution to betray,
In fleeting streams, attempt to slide away.
Georg. B. iv
That the Almighty has, at certain periods, granted
a limited power to the devil personally to, tempt or
torment the sons of men, either with a view to put the
virtue of his chosen servants to a trial,, and, thereby
afford them opportunities of triumphing over the pow
ers of hell, or for other reasons best known, to his ever
just but inscrutable judgments, is .evident from the
testimonies, of the scriptures both of the Old and New
Testaments : as in the cases. of Job, our Saviour in
the desert the young man possessed by the devil ;
and several other instances of, the kind recorded by
the Evangelists. Similar events have also frequently
occurred in every age of .the church, in countries
emerging, or struggling to., emerge, from Idolatry into
Christianity through the missionary labors of apostoli
cal men ;* for when Satan perceives kingdoms over
which he had for so long a time exercised an almost
unlimited control, on the point of being extricated from
his dominion, it is then he exerts the utmost extent of
ais power to retain them under his subjection.
* See Butler s " Lives of the Saints." See also " Missionea
Orientales," reeve et imprime a Londres, ann. 1797.
2
OV INTRODUCTION.
In a word, whatever may appear -upernatuial to
our readers, in the perusal of the lives of these holy
solitaries, rests on the same credit arid authority as the
most ordinary and familiar circumstance related of
their ; nor is any miraculous interposition of Provi-
denoo enabling them to pursue a system of life, impos
sible to mere human efforts, that has not a parallel in
the holy scriptures themselves : for example, if some
of them fasted many weeks without any corporal sus
tenance [without referring to the forty days fast of our
Saviour in the desert], did not Elias and St. John the
Baptist also fast in the same rigorous manner ? If
St. Paul the first hermit was miraculously fed by a
raven, was not the prophet Elias also fed in a like mi
raculous manner ? If a lioness saved the life of St.
Malchus and his companion in a cave, and destroyed
their vengeful pursuers, did not bears also rush from
the woods to devour the wicked children who had de
rided and insulted the baldness of Elizeus the prophet ?
But however wonderful and interesting the events here
recorded of these venerable solitaries may appear, yet
the sublime virtues which they practised are by far
more deserving of our frequent contemplation. In
profane history we often discover the most splendid
actions of worldly heroes tainted by motives of pride,
vanity, or self-interest : whereas we invariably find the
heroes of the wilderness to have founded their great-
less on the most profound humility, and absolute an
INTRODUCTION. XI
nihilation of their own will, that they might the more
implicitly conform in every action and circumstance of
their lives to the holy will of God ; hereby exemplify
ing in themselves the character of a mo:jk or anchoret
as drawn by the celebrated Abbe Ranee, founder of
the Abbey of La Trappe : " When," says he, " a soul
relishes God in solitude, she thinks no longer on any
thing but heaven she forgets the earth, on which
there is nothing that can please her she burns with
the fire of divine love, and sighing after God alone,
regards death as her greyest advantage. Neverthe
less, they will find themselves much deceived, who, on
forsaking the world, imagine they shall advance to
wards God by straight paths, or roads sown with lilies
and roses ; or that they have chosen a state in which
they will find no difficulties to encounter that could
disturb the tranquillity of their retreat, which the hand
of God will not turn aside : on the contrary, they must
be persuaded that temptations will every where pursue
them ; that there is no time nor any place wherein
they can be exempt from them ; that the peace which
God promises is procured in the midst of tribulations,
as rosebuds are found among thorns. God has not
nromised his servants that they should meet with no
trials, but that with the temptation he will also give
them the grace to overcome it. Heaven is offered us
on no other condition : it is a kingdom of conquests,
n prize of victory ; but, God ! what a prize I ! !. "
LIVES
OF THE
SAINTS OF THE DESERTS,
ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
SAINT John the Baptist, the son of Zachary and Eli
zabeth, was sanctified and hallowed in his mother s
womb, and even in the tender years of childhood re
ceived an inspiration to retire to the wilderness, where
his holy life manifested the true effects of grace on a
heart that has burst the bonds of the slavery of sin.
St. John the Baptist was called by God to be the fore
runner of his Divine Son, to usher him into the world,
and to prepare mankind by penance to receive their
great Redeemer, whom the prophets had foretold at a
distance through every age from the beginning of the
world ; never ceasing to excite the people of God to
faith and hope in him, by whom alone they were to
be saved. The more the sublime function of this saint
surpassed that of the Jewish legislator and of all the
patriarchs and ancient prophets, the greater were the
graces by which he was fitted for the same. Some of
18 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
the prophets had been sanctified from their birth ; but
neither in so wonderful nor in so abundant a mannei
as the Baptist. In order to preserve his innocence
spotless, and to improve the extraordinary graces
which he had received, he was directed by the Holy
Ghost to lead an austere and contemplative life in the
wilderness, in the continual exercises of devout prayer
and penance, from his infancy till he was thirty years
of age. How much does this precaution of a saint,
who was strengthened by such uncommon privileges
and graces, condemn the rashness of parents who ex
pose children in the slippery time of youth to the con
tagious air of wicked worldly company, and to every
danger ! or, who, instead of training them up in suit
able habits of self-denial, humility, devotion, and rea
sonable application to serious duties, are themselves by
example and pernicious maxims the corruptors of their
tender minds, and the flatterers of their passions, which
they ought to teach them to subdue.
St. John cannot be commonly imitated by youth in
his total retreat from the world ; but he teaches what
are the means by which they must study, according to
their circumstances, to sanctify that most precious age
of life ; what they must shun, in what maxims they
ought to ground themselves, and how they are to form
and strengthen in themselves the most perfect habits
of all virtues. Let them consider him as a special
pattern, and the model of innocence and of that fervor
ST. JOHN THE B API 1ST. 10
with which they must labor continually to improve in
wisdom, piety, and every virtue. He is particularly
the pattern which those ought always to have before
their eyes, who are called by God to the ministry of
his altar, or of his word. Let no one be so rash as to
n trade himself into the sanctuary- before he has la
bored a long time to qualify himself for so high an
office by retirement, humility, holy contemplation, and
penance, and before the spirit of those virtues -has
taken deep root in his soul. Saint John led a most
austere life in the wilderness conversing only with
God, till, in the thirtieth year of his age, he was per
fectly qualified to enter upon the administration of his
office; that being also the age at which the priests
and Levites were permitted by the Jewish law to begin
the exercise of their functions. The prophets had long
before described the Baptist as the messenger and
forerunner sent to prepare the way of the Lord, by
bringing men to a due sense of their sins, and to the
other necessary dispositions for receiving worthily their
Redeemer. Isaias and Malachy in these predictions
allude to harbingers and such other officers whom
princes upon their journeys sent before them, to take
care that the roads should be levelled, and all obstruc
tions that might hinder their passage removed.
God, by a revelation, intimated to John his com
mission of precursor in the wil lerness, and the faithful
minister began to discharge it in the desert of Judca
20 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
itself near the borders, where it was thinly inhabited,
upon the banks of the Jordan, towards Jericho,
Clothed with the weeds of penance, he announced to
all men the obligation they lay under of washing away
their iniquities with the tears of sincere compunction ;
and proclaimed the Messiah, who was then coming to
make his appearance among them. He was received
by the people as the true herald of the most high
God, and his voice was, as it were, a trumpet sounding
from heaven to summon all men to avert the divine
judgments, and to prepare themselves to reap the ben
efit of the mercy that was offered them. All ranks
of people listened to him, and, amongst others, came
many Pharisees, whose pride and hypocrisy, which
rendered them indocile, and blinded them in their
vices, he sharply reproved. The very soldiers and
publicans or tax-gatherers, who were generally persons
hardened in habits of immorality, violence and injus
tice, flocked to him. He exhorted all to works of
charity, and to a reformation of their lives, and those
who addressed themselves to him, in these disposi
tions, he baptized in the river. The Jews practised
several religious washings of the body as legal purifi
cations ; but no baptism before this of John had so
great and mystical a signification, It chiefly repre
sented the manner in which the souls of men must be
cleansed from all sin and vicious habits, to be made
partakers of Christ s spiritual kingdom, and it was aD
ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 21
emblem of the interior effects of sincere repentance ;
but it differed entirely from the great Sacrament of
Baptism which Christ soon after instituted, to which it
was much inferior in virtue and efficacy, and of which
it was a kind of type.
St. John s baptism was a temporary rite, by which
men who were under the law were admitted to some
new spiritual privileges, which they had not before,
by him who was the messenger of Christ, and of his
new covenant. Whence it is called by the fathers a
partition between the law and the gospel. This bap
tism of John prepared men to become Christians, but
did not make them so. It was not even conferred in
the name of Christ, or in that of the Holy Ghost, who
had not been as yet given. When St. John had
already preached and baptized about six months, our
Redeemer went from Nazareth, and presented himself,
among others, to be baptized by him. The Baptist
knew him by a divine revelation, and, full of awe and
respect for his sacred person, at first excused himself,
but at length acquiesced out of obedience. The Sa
viour of sinners was pleased to be baptized among
sinners, not to be cleansed himself, but to sanctify the
waters, says St. Ambrose, that is, to give them the
virtue to cleanse away the sins of men. St. Austin
and St. Thomas Aquinas think he then instituted the
holy Sacrament of Baptism, which he soon after ad
82 ST. JOHJT THE BAPTIST.
ministered by his disciples, whom doubtless he had
first baptized himself.
The solemn admonitions of the Baptist, attended
fcith the most extraordinary innocence and sanctity,
and the marks of his divine commission, procured him
a mighty veneration and authority among *he Jews,
and several began to look upon him as the Messiah,
who, from the ancient prophecies, was expected by all
the nations of the East to appear about that time in
Judea, as Suetonius, Tacitus, and Josephus testify.
To remove all thoughts of this kind, he freely declared
that he only baptized sinners with water in order to
repentance and a new life ; but that there was one
ready to appear among them, who would baptize them
with the effusion of the Holy Ghost, and who so far
exceeded him in power and excellency, that he was
not worthy to do for him the meanest servile office.
Nevertheless, so strong were the impressions which
the preaching and deportment of John made upon the
minds of the Jews, that they sent to him a solemn
embassy of priests and Levites from Jerusalem to in
quire of him if he was not the Christ. True humility
shudders at the very mention of undue honor ; and
the higher applause it meets with among men, the
lower it sinks in a deep sense and sincere acknowledg
ment of its own baseness and unvvorthiness, and ID
the abyss of its nothingness ; and in this disposition it
is inflamed with a most ardent d-sire to give all praise
JT, JOHN THE BAPTIST. 21
And jyj\ * ,( v. Vj pure gratuitous goodness and mercy
of God LJOIK. l.i these sentiments St. JoLn confess
cd, and did not dt.iy : and he confessed, I am not the
Christ. He also kid the deputies that he was neither
Elias nor a prophet. He was indeed Elias in spirit;
being the great harbli ger of the Son of God ; and ex
celled in dignity the ancient Elias, who was a type of
our saint. The Baptist was likewise eminently a pro
phet, and more than a piophet, it being his office not
to foretell Christ at a ditiance, but to point him out
present among men. Yet, far from pluming himself
with titles and prerogative*., as pride inspires men to
do, he forgets his dignity iu every other respect only
in that of discharging the obligations it lays upon him,
and of humbling himself under the almighty and mer
ciful hand of Kim who had chosen and exalted him
by his grace. Therefore, because he was not Elias in
person, nor a prophet in the strict sense of the word,
though, by his office, more than a prophet, he rejects
those titles.
Being pressed to give some account who he was, he
calls himself the voice of one crying in the desert ; he
will not have men have the least regard for him, but
turns their attentions entirely from himself, as unwor
thy to be named or thought of, and only bids them
isten to the Summons which God sent them by his
mouth. A voice is no more than an empty sound ; it
is a mere nothing. How eloquent does sincere hu
24 ST. JOHN THE BAl TIST.
mility render the saints to express the ser-fcnents of
their own nothingness ! Like the Baptist, every
preacher of God s word must be penetrated with the
most feeling sense of his own baseness ; must study
always to be nothing himself and in his own eyes,
whilst yet he exerts all his powers that God, the great
All, may be known, loved, served, and glorified by all,
and in all : he must be himself merely a voice, but ?.
voice of thunder to awake in all hearts a profound
sense of their spiritual miseries, and of the duties which
they owe to God. This maxim St. Austin illustrates
by the following simile drawn by the pagan mytholo-
gists : " It is related in the fables," says he, " that a
wolf thought, from the shrillness of the voice, that a
nightingale was some large creature, and, coming up
and finding it to have so small a body, said : Thou
art all voice, and art therefore nothing. In like man
ner let us be nothing in our own esteem. Let the
world despise us, and set us at naught, provided we
only be the voice of God and nothing more."
The Baptist proclaimed Jesus to be the Messias at
his baptism ; lie did the same when the Jews consult
ed him from Jerusalem wnether he was not the Mes
sias : again, when seeing mm come towards him the
day following, he called him, The Lamb of God ;
also when his disciples consulted him about the bap
tism of Jesus, and on oiher occasions. He baptized
first in the Jordan on the borders of the desert of J>
ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 25
dea : afterward, on the other side of that river, at a
place called Bethania, or rather Bethabara, which
word signifies House of the Passage or common ford ;
lastly at Ennon, near Salim, a place abounding in
waters, situated in Judea near the Jordan. In the
discharge of his commission he was a perfect model to
be imitated by all true ministers of the divine word.
Like an angel of the Lord he was neither moved by
benedictions nor by maledictions, having only God and
his holy will in view. Entirely free from vanity or
love of popular applause, he preached not himself, but
Christ. His tenderness and charity won the hearts,
and his zeal gave him a commanding influence over
the minds of his hearers. He reproved the vices of
all orders of men with impartial freedom, and an un
daunted authority ; the hypocrisy of the Pharisees, the
profaneness of the Sadducees, the extortion of the pub
licans, the rapine and licentiousness of the soldiers, ana
the incest of Herod himself.
The tetrarch Herod Antipas going to Rome in the
sixteenth year of Tiberius, the thirty-third of. Christ,
lodged in his way at the house of his brother Herod
Philip, and was smitten with love for his wife Hero-
dias, who was niece to them both. He discovered to
her his criminal passion, and she consented to leave
her husband and marry him, upon condition that he
6rst divorced his wife, who was daughter of Aretas s
king of the Arabs. To this he readily agreed, and
26 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
being returned from Rome in the following autumn,
he considered how to rid himself of his wife. Tha
princess having got intelligence of his resolution, mado
her escape, and fled to her father. By her voluntary
retreat Herod Antipas saw himself at liberty, and, by
a notorious infringement of all laws divine and human,
married Herodias his sister-in-law, though she had
children by her own husband Philip, his brother, who
was yet living. St. John Baptist boldly reprehended
the tetrarch and his accomplices for so scandalous an
incest and adultery, and said to that prince : It is no.
lawful for thee to take thy brother" 1 s wife. Herod fear
ed and reverenced John, knowing him to be a holy
man ; and he did many things by his advice ; but, on
the other hand, he could not bear that his main sore
should be touched, and was highly offended at the
liberty which the preacher took in that particular.
Thus, whilst he respected him as a saint, he hated him
as a censor, and felt a violent struggle in his own
breast, between his veneration for the sanctity of the
prophet, and the reproaches of his own conduct. His
passion still got the better, and held him captive, and
his flame was nourished by the flatteries of courtiers,
and the clamors and artifices of Herodias, who, like an
enraged infernal fury, left nothing unattemptecl to take
away the life of him who durst impeach her conduct,
and disturb her criminal pleasures and ambition,
fferod, to content her, cast the saint into prison.
ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 27
Josephus says, the servant of God was confined in the
castle of Macherus, two leagues beyond the lake As-
phaltites, upon the borders of Arabia Petrsea. St.
Jolm, hearing in prison of Christ s wonderful works
and preaching, sent two of his disciples to him for
their information, not doubting but that Christ would
satisfy them that he was the Messiah ; and that by
his answers they would lay aside their prejudices, anr 5
join themselves to him.
Herod continued still to respect the man of God,
frequently sent for him, and heard him discourse
with much pleasure, though he was troubled when
he was admonished by him of his faults. Herodias
on the other hand, never ceased by her instigations
to endeavor to exasperate him against the holv
man, and to seek an opportunity to compass his
destruction. An occasion at length fell out favorable
to her designs. It was about a year since John the
Baptist had been committed close prisoner, when He
rod, upon a return of his birthday, made a splendid
entertainment for the principal nobility of Galilee, in
the castle of Macherus. The dancing of Salome and
other circumstances of this banquet are sensible proofs
to what an infamous pitch of impudence, debauchery
was carried in this impious court. To dance at ban
quets was looked upon among civilized nations which
had any regard to rules of decency and temperance, aa
a base ^feminaoy, and an excess of softness and volup
28 ST. JOHN THE BA.PTIST.
tuoasness, as it is called by Cicero, who clears the re
putation of king Deiotarus from the aspersion of such
an indecency, because, being a man remarkable from
his youth for the gravity of his manners, he was inca
pable of such an extravagance. That orator had be
fore endeavored in the same manner to justify Mursena
from a like imputation. When luxury and intemper
ance overran the Roman commonwealth, these maxims
of ancient severity still so far prevailed, that Tiberius
and Domitian, who will never pass for rigid reformers
of morals, turned patricians out of the senate for having
danced, and the former banished all the professed dan
cers and comedians out of Rome, so incompatible with
purity of manners was a passion for dancing looked
upon. This reflection leads us to form a judgment ot
the extreme degeneracy of Herod s court, in which the
mirth and jollity of this feast was heightened by dan
cing. Salome, a daughter of Herodias by her lawfti
husband, pleased Herod by her dancing, insomuch
that he promised her, with the sacred bond of an oath,
to grant her whatever she asked, though it amounted
to half of his dominions. Frcm this instance St. Am
brose and other fathers take occasion to show the
dangerous consequences of a passion for dancing, and
the depravity from which it often takes its rise. Sa
lome having received the above-said ample promise
made her by Herod, consulted with her mother whai
to ask. Hero lias was so entirely devoured by lus/
ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST 29
and ambition, as willingly to forego e , T ery other con
sideration, that she might be at liberty to gratify ner
passions, and remove him who stood in her way in the
pursuit of her criminal inclinations. She therefore in
structed her daughter to demand the death of John
the Baptist, and her jealousy was so impatient of the
least delay, for fear the tyrant might relent if he had
time to enter into himself, that she persuaded the
young damsel to make it part of her petition that the
head of the prisoner should be forthwith brought to
her in a dish. This strange request startled the ty
rant himself, and caused a damp upon his spirits. He,
however, assented, though with reluctance, as men
often feel a cruel sting of remorse, and suffer the
qualms of a disturbed conscience flying in their face
and condemning them, whilst they are drawn into sin
by the tyranny of a vicious habit, or some violent pas
sion. We cannot be surprised that Herod should be
concerned at so extravagant a petition. The very
mention of such a thing by a lady, in the midst of a
feast and solemn rejoicing, was enough to shock even
a man of uncommon barbarity.
The evangelist also informs us, that Herod had con
ceived a good opinion of the Baptist as a just and
toly man ; also that he feared the resentment of the
people, who held the man of God in the highest ven
eration and esteem. Moreover, it was a constant rule
or custom, *hat neither the prince s birthday, nor the
30 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
mirth of a public assembly and banquet, were to b
stained with the condemnation or execution of any
criminal whatever ; only favors and pardons were to
be granted on such occasions. Flaminius, a Roman
general,- was expelled the senate by the censors for
having given an order for beheading a criminal whilst
he was at a banquet. Nevertheless, the weak tyrant,
overcome by his passion, and by a fond complaisance,
was deaf to the voice of his own conscience, and to
every other consideration ; and studied, by foolish
pretences, to excuse a crime which they could only
serve to exaggerate. He alleged a conscience of his
oath ; though if it be one sin to take a wicked oath, it
is another to keep it ; for no oath can be a bond of
iniquity, nor can any one oblige himself to do what
God forbids. The tyrant also urged his respect for
the company, and his fear of giving them scandal by
a perjury. But how easy would true virtue and
courage have justified the innocent man to the satis
faction of all persons whom passion did not blind, and
have shown the inhumanity of an execution which
could not foil to damp the joy of the meeting, and
give offence to all who were not interested in the plot !
But the tyrant, without giving the saint a hearing, or
allowing him so much as the formality of a trial, sent
a soldier of his guard to behead him in prison, with an
order to bring his head in a charger, and present it to
Salome. This oeing executed, the damsel was not
ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 31
ifraid to take that present into her hands, ant deliver
it to her mother. St. Jerome relates, that the furious
Herodias made it her inhuman pastime to prick the
sacred tongue with a bodkin as Fulvia had done Cice
ro s. Thus died the great forerunner of our blessed
Saviour, about two years and three months after his
entrance upon his public ministry, about the time of
the Paschal solemnity, a year before the death of our
blessed Redeemer.
Josephus, though a Jew, gives a remarkable testimo
ny to the innocence and admirable sanctity of John,
and says, " He was indeed a man endued with all virtue
who exhorted the Jews to the practice of justice to
wards men, and piety towards God ; and also to bap
tism, preaching that they would become acceptable to
God, if they renounced their sins, and to the cleanness
of their bodies added purity of soul." This historian
adds, that the Jews ascribed to the murder of John
the misfortunes into which Herod fell. For his army
was soon after cut to pieces by Aretas, king of Arabia
Petraea, who, in revenge for the affront offered his
daughter, invaded his territories, and conquered the
castle of Macherus. When Caligula afterward confer
red on Agrippa the title of king of Judaea, the ambi
tious Herodias being racked with envy, prevailed with
Herod Antipas to repair to Rome, in order to request
the like favor of the emperor. But Caligula had re
ceived a bad impression against him, being informed
32 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
by Agrippa that he was making a league with the
Parthians, and was provided with arms for seventy
thousand men. Whereupon, instead of granting him
a crown, he deprived him of his tetrarchate, confiscated
his goods, and banished him and Herodias to Lyons
in Gaul, in the thirty-eighth year of the Christian era,
about four years after Christ had appeared before him
at Jerusalem, and been treated by him as a mock king.
Herod and Herodias died in great misery, as Josephus
assures us, probably at Lyons, though some moderns
say they travelled into Spain. What Nicephorus
Calixti and other modern Greeks tell us, is not sup
ported by any ancient voucher, that Salome going
over the ice in winter, the ice broke and let her in up
to the head, which by the meeting of the ice was
severed from her body.
The Baptist s disciples came and took away his
body, which they honorably interred. Rufinus and
Theodoret inform us, that in the reign of Julian the
Apostate, the pagans broke open the tomb of St. John
the Baptist, which was at Sebaste or Samaria, and
burnt part of his sacred bones, some part being saved
by the Christians. These were sent to St. Athanasiu.-i
at Alexandria. Some time after, in 396, Theedosius
built a great church in that city, in honor of the Bap
tist, upon the spot where the temple of Serapis had
fciiNerly stood, and these holy relics were deposited in
it, asTheophanes testifies. But a distributer of soraf
ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 53
portions was made to certain other churches , and the
great Theodoret obtained a share for his church at Cy
rus, and relates, that he and his diocess had received
from God several miraculous favors, through the inter
cession of this glorious saint. The Baptist s head was
discovered at Emisa in Syria, in the year 453, and was
kept with honor in the great church of that city ; till,
about the year 800, this precious relic was conveyed
to Constantinople, that it might not be sacrilegiously
insulted by the Saracens. When that city was taken
by the French in 1204, Wallo de Sarton, a canon of
Amiens, brought part of this head, that is, all the face,
except the lower jaw, into France, and bestowed it on
his own church, where it is preserved to this day.
Part of the head of the Baptist is said to be kept in
St. Sylvester s church, in Carnpo Marzo at Rome;
though Sirmond thinks this to be the head of St. John
the Martyr of Rome. Pope Clement VIII., to remove
all reasonable doubt about the relic of this saint, pro
cured a small part of the head that is kept in Amiens,
for St. Sylvester s church.
This glorious saint was a martyi, a virgin, a doctor,
a prophet, and more than a prophet. He was de
clared by Christ himself to be greater than all th<?
saints of the old law, the greatest of all that had been
born of women. All the high graces with which ho
was favored, sprang from his humility ; in this all hia
other virtues wore founded. If we desire to form our-
84 ST. PAUL THE FIRST HERMIT.
selves upon so great a moiel, we must, above all things,
labor to lay the same deep foundation. We must
never cease to purge our souls more and more per
fectly from all leaven of pride, by earnestly begging
this grace of God, by studying with this saint, truly
to know ourselves, and by exercising continual acts of
sincere humility. The meditation of our own nothing
ness and wretchedness will help to inspire us with this
saving knowledge ; and repeated humiliations will
ground and improve our souls in a feeling sense of our
miseries, and a sincere contempt of ourselves.
ST. PAUL, THE FIRST HERMIT.
Abridged from his Life written by St. Jerome.
THIS Saint was born in the lower Thebais, a province
of Egypt, in the third century, of Christian parents,
who being wealthy in worldly riches took care to give
him a liberal education, and to train him up both in
the Greek and Egyptian literature ; yet without any
prejudice to his innocence, or Christian piety ; for
which he was remarkable from his childhood ; bc-ing
always of a meek and humble disposition, and greatly
fearing and loving his God. His parents dying when
be was about fifteen years of age, left him their estate ;
ST. PAUL, 7HE FIRST HERMIT. 3ft
wnich he had not long enjoyed, when that bloody per
secution, set on foot by the Emperor Decius (who em
ployed all manner of torments to oblige the Christians
to renounce Jesus Christ, and offer sacrifice to idols,)
had reached Egypt and Thebais ; where it made many
martyrs ; and drove many ethers into the deserts and
mountains ; where great numbers of them perished
with hunger or sickness, or fell a prey to robbers and
wild beasts ; as we learn from St. Denys, who was at
that very time bishop of Alexandria, in his epistle to
Fabius, bishop of Antioch. Upon this occasion Paul
also withdrew himself to a remote country-house, de
signing to lie concealed there till the storm blew over :
but his sister s husband, who was acquainted with the
place of his retreat, conceived a resolution to betray
him to the persecutors in hopes of Dossessing himself
of his estate. The Saint being informed of his vricked
resolution, quitted his country-house, and fled into the
wilderness, where he purposed to pass his time till the
danger was over. Here, as he advanced still further
and further into the remoter parts of the desert, he
came at last to a rocky mountain, at the foot of which
he found a large den or cave ; and going in, he there
discovered a kind of a spacious porch, open at the top
to the heavens, but protected by an old palm-tree,
which covered it with its spreading branches : near
which there was a spring of clear water : and in a
hollow part of the mountain, several cells or rooms,
86 ST. PAUL, THE FlliST HERMIT.
irhich, by the instruments lie found there, appeared tc
Lave been formerly occupied by coiners. This place
the Saint judged to be very proper for his abode ; an_
embraced it as a dwelling assigned him by divine Pro
vidence for the remainder of his life. And thus be
who thought only at first to hide himself for a while
in the wilderness from the fury of the persecutors, was
by the design of God conducted thither, to be an in
habitant for life, and the first that should dedicate,
and, as it were, consecrate, those deserts to divine love ;
by living there for so many years a perfect model of
an entire separation and disengagement from all ties
and affections of this world ; for the instruction and
encouragement of many thousands, who should, by
his example, in following ages, embrace a recluse or
eremitical life. Thus the malice of his brother-in-law,
by driving him away from his worldly possessions, be
came the occasion of his embracing a state of life, in
and by which his soul was daily more and more en
riched with the treasures of divine grace, and placed
in the most effectual way to secure to himself immense
and everlasting treasures in the eternal possession of
his God. Upon which occasion we may admire and
adore the wonderful ways of the divine goodness,
which generally draws the greatest good, even the
sanctification and salvation of our souls, from what we
poor mortals apprehend as great evils ; more especially
from the crosses and sufferings of this life, and the loss
ST. PAUL, THE FIRST HERMIT. 3 7
of those things which are apt to affect us too much,
to the prejudice of that love which we owe to God.
But who shall be able to relate the wonderful manner
of life our Saint here led, estranged from all conversa
tion with mortals, perpetually addressing himself to
God, by prayer and contemplation, night and day ; or
the continual progress he made every day in the love
of God, the true science of the Saints, and that better
part which they have chosen with Mary, and which
never shall be taken from them ? It may suffice to
say, that the perfection which he attained to in divine
love, which is the true measure of all sanctity, was so
great and supereminent in the sight of God, as to ex
ceed by far that of St. Antony, the wonder of all ages
for Christian and religious perfection : and this, by the
testimony of God himself: but yet we are not to sup
pose that, with all his sanctity, he could be exempted
in his solitude, no more than St. Antony was, from
the temptations and molestations of the common ene
my, who, by the permission of God, is most trouble
some to those who oppose him most ; though it all
turns in the end to their greater good, and his own
confusion. As to the food and raiment of St. Paul,
we learn from my author, who had his account from
the disciples of St. Antony, and they from their master
that he lived (at least for a good part of the time, til
God was pleased to provide for him in a miraculou.
manner,) on those dates which the palm-tree produ-
88 ST. PAUL, THE FIRS! HERMIT.
ced ; and drank of the water of the spring : and as foi
his clothing, he made himself a garment of the leaves
of the same tree, woven together after the manner of
a mat or a basket. And lest this austerity of his life
might seem to any one incredible, or a thing impossi
ble, St. Jerome in his relation calls our Lord Jesus and
his angels to witness, that he himself saw certain soli
taries in that part of the desert of Syria which borders
upon the Saracens ; one of whom had lived, shut up
. for thirty years, upon barley bread alone and muddy
water ; and another who had chosen for his mansion
an old pit or cistern, where he had no other food to
subsist on but five dry figs every day.
Our saint had now lived in his solitude to the age
of one hundred and thirteen years , when St. Antony,
who was then about ninety vejwo old, was one day
thinking with himself that no one amongst the reli
gious of Egypt had penetrated further into those wil
dernesses than he had done. Whereupon he was one
night admonished in a dream, that there was one still
further on in the desert much better than himself;
and that he should make haste to visit him. In com
pliance with this divine admonition, Antony set out at
break of day in quest of this servant of God, with
great confidence that he who had sent him forth,
would conduct him to the place where he should find
him. Thus he spent two whole days, fatigued with
the labor of the journey, and broiled by the heat of
ST. PAUL, THE FIRST HERMIT. 89
Ch. an, which is violent in those sandy deserts, meet
ing ^ith no creature the whole way, except two in
moi strous shape ; the one representing* a centaur, half
man : and half a horse, and the other a satyr, made up
of a man and a goat : which whether they were phan
toms and illusions of the enemy, or monsters bred in
those vast wildernesses, is uncertain. The Saint, when
he opposed to these frightful figures his usual arms,
the shield of faith and sign of the cross, neither of
them offered him any harm ; but on the contrary the
former, on being asked where the servant of God
dwelt, pointing towards the place, ran swiftly away,
and disappeared ; and the latter brought him some
dates for his food ; and being asked, who or what he
was ? delivered an intelligible answer, (by some su
pernatural power) with an acknowledgment of God,
and of Jesus Christ, his Son ; which gave the Saint
occasion to glorify our Lord, and to reproach the un
believing city of Alexandria, which refused to acknow
ledge the true and living God, whom even beasts
adored, and worshipped these very beasts instead of
him. At which words of the Saint the monster fled
away with incredible speed, and was seen no more.
Antony having spent two nights watching in prayer,
at break of day on the third morning, he perceived a
wolf at a distance panting for thirst, going into a cav
ern at the foot of a mountain. Whereupon coming
Up to the place after the beast was gone, he ventured
40 ST. PAUL, THE FIRST HERMIT.
into the cave, advancing cautiously and silently in tho
dark, till at length he perceived at some distance a
glimmering of light (from the opening from above
over the porch of the cell of the Saint,) upon which
in hastening forward he stumbled upon a stone, when
the noise gave occasion to St. Paul to shut his door,
and fasten it within. Antony was now convinced that
he found the person whom he sought : and coming
up to the door earnestly begged for admittance, with
many tears, lying prostrate on the ground f rom morn
ing till noon, (to teach us the necessity of fervor and
perseverance in prayer, if we would obtain what we
ask,) till at length the holy old man opened the door
to him. Then after falling upon each other s neck,
embracing each other, and calling one another by
their proper names, as if they had been of long ac
quaintance, they joined in giving thanks to God.
When they had sat down together, Paul said to An
tony, behold here the man whom thou hast taken so
much pains to seek, and who very speedily must re
turn to dust : tell me, then, if thou pleasest, how man
kind goes on ; what is the present state of the empire ;
are there any still remaining that worship devils, &c. ?
Whilst they were discoursing on these matters, they
perceived a raven alighting upon one of the branches
>f the palm-tree, which descending gently, dropped a
oaf of bread before them, and then flew away. Be
hold, said Paul, how our loving and merciful Lo k J has
ST. PAUL, THE FIRST HERMIT. 41
lent us a dinner ! There are now sixty years elapsed
since I have daily received from him half a loaf, but
upon thy coming, Christ hath been pleased to send his
soldier a double proportion. Then after praying and
thanksgiving, they sat down by the edge of the spring,
to take the meal which God hath sent them : but no
without an humble contention who should break the
loaf; which they at last decided by breaking it con-
iointly. After taking a moderate refreshment, they
laid themselves down to sip at the fountain : and then
returned to prayer and the praises of God, in which
they spent the evening, and the whole of the following
night.
The next morning Paul thus accosted Antony : " It
is a long time, brother, since I have known of your
dwelling in these regions : and the Lord long ago
promised me your company. But as my time is now
come to go to rest, (as I have always desired to be
dissolved and to be with Christ,) and my race being
finished, the crown of justice waits for me, thou art
now sent by the Lord to cover this body with ground,
or rather to commit earth to earth." Which when
Antony heard, breaking out into sighs and tears, he
began to entreat him not to leave him, but to take
him along with him for his companion in so happy a
journey. " Thou oughtest not," said Paul, " to seek
in this thy own interest, but what may be for the good
of others. It would be expedient inc eed to thee to
42 &T. PAUL. THE FIRST HERMIT.
lay down this load of flesh, and to follow the Lamb :
but it is necessary to the rest of the brethren, that
thou shouldest continue here, to instruct them by thy
example. Wherefore go, I beseech thee r if it be not
too much trouble, and bring hither the cloak which
was given thee, by bishop Athanasius, to wrap up my
body for its burial :" which, says St. Jerome, he asked,
not that he who for many years had used no other
clothing but the leaves of the palm-tree, cared much
whether his body was committed to the earth covered
or naked, but that Antony being absent when he died
might be less afflicted with his death. To which our
church historians add another reason, viz. that by his
desiring to be buried in the cloak of Athanasius (at
that time violently persecuted by the Arians, for the
Catholic faith of the Trinity,) he might bear testimony
to the cause of God and his truth, and declare to the
world his communion with his illustrious prelate, who
was then, and had been all his lifetime, one of the
principal champions of God and his church against
the Arian heresy.
Antony being astonished to hear him speak of Ath
anasius, and of the cloak (of which he could no other
wise have been informed but by revelation,) as if ha
*aw Christ himself in Paul, without making any fur-
ther reply, kissed his hands with tears, and departing
from him, made the best of his way home to his rwn
monastery. Here his two disciples (Amathas and
ST. PAUL, THE FIRST HERMIT. 43
Macarias,) asked him where he had been so long ?
To whom he made no answer, but, " wo to me a
sinner, who deserve not to bear the name o: a religious
man ! I have seen Elias : I have seen John in the
wilderness : I havft seen with truth, Paul in paradise."
Ajid thus without explaining himself any further, he
went into his cell, striking his breast, and taking up
the cloak. instantly hastened away without staying to
take any refr -^r.ment ; having Paul continually in his
mind, and fcanug, that which indeed happened, lest
Paul should die before he reached his cave. On the
second morning, when he had travelled for about tnree
hours, he saw the soul of Paul encompassed in great
glory ascending to heaven, attended with an innumer
able multitude of angels and saints. At this sjght,
falling down on the ground, he cried out lamenting
and mourning : " O Paul, why dost thou leave me ?
why dost thou go without letting me salute thee ?
too late, alas-! have I come to know thee, and dost
thou depart from ro$ so soon ? " Then rising up he
went on the remaining part of the way, notwithstand
ing his great age, and his having been before greatly
fatigued, with such unaccustomed speed, that, as he
himself afterwards relates, he seemed rather to fly than
walk.
When he arrived and had entered into the cave, he
found the body of the Saint in the posture of one at
prayer, kneeling with uplifted hand* ; so that thinking
44 ST. PAUL, THE FIRST HERMIT.
he might be yet alive, he knelt down to pray with
him. But not perceiving him to sigh, as he was ac
customed at his prayers, he was convinced he was
dead. Wherefore weeping and embracing the dead
body, he wrapt it up in the cloak, and carried it out
singing hymns and psalms according to the christiau
tradition. But here no small difficulty occurred, how
he should bury the body, having no spade or other
nstrument to dig a grave : so that what to do he
knew not : to go back to his monastery, was three
days journey ; to stay where he was, was doing noth
ing. Whilst he remained in this perplexity, behold
two lions, from the remoter part of the wilderness,
came running with all speed towards him. At the
sight of them Antony was at first surprised ; but pre
sently recollecting himself in God, he shook off all fear,
and stood his ground till the beasts coming up to the
place, went and laid themselves down at the feet of
the deceased saint, and seemed, in their way, to lament
his death. Then going a little distance off, they "be
gan to scratch up the sandy ground with their claws,
and did not cease till they had made a hole big enough
to answer the purpose of a grave ; which when they
had done, coming to Antony as it were for their wages,
wagging their ears and hanging down their heads,
they licked his hands and feet. The Saint conceivin
that in their mute way they craved his blessing, took
occasion to praise and glorify God, -whom all his crea-
ST. PAUL, THE FIRST HERMIT. 45
hires serve ; and then prayed in this manner : " O
Lord, without whose disposition not a leaf falls from
the tree, nor a sparrow to the ground, give to them as
thou knowest best :" and so making them a sign with
his hand he sent them away. Then taking the dead
body of St. Paul, he laid it down in the grave which
they had made, and covered it with the earth ; and
BO returned home, carrying with him the garment
made of the leaves of the palm-tree, which Paul had
worn (which for the remaining years of his life he
always put on upon the solemn festivals of Easter and
Pentecost,) and related all that he had seen and done
to his disciples, from whom St. Jerome had his ac
count.
And here it may not be improper to reflect, with
this holy Doctor of the church in the conclusion of
his life of this Saint, on the difference between the
clothing, eating, drinking, lodging, and, in a word, the
whole manner of living of this servant of God, and
that of worldlings, who never think they have enough,
and are always slaves to their own corrupt inclinations.
Paul coveted nothing, and wanted nothing ; and there
fore was always easy and content : they are always
coveting and wanting, and never perfectly easy. Paul
with his mean fare enjoyed long life and health, to
gether with a good conscience and interior peace:
their intemperances and lusts, their passions, their
pride, their ambition, their avarice, their envy, thei>
46 ST. ANTONY.
cares and fears, and the contradictions of their will
and humor, to which they are perpetually exposed,
rob them of their health, shorten their days, and ban
ish both grace and peace far from their souls. In
fine, Paul with all his poverty and mortifications, was
happy even here in the experience of the love of hi
God, in the sense of his divine presence, in the con
templation of his heavenly truths, in the sweets he
found in mental prayer, and an inward conversation
with our Lord ; in the consolations of the Holy Ghost,
<fec., and by this means h^ passed his days in good
things, (truly such) till he was in an instant put in full
possession, by death, of the sovereign and infinite good
for eternity : whereas they, after their short deluding
dreams of an imaginary happiness, which is ever Hying
away from them, awake in a moment, and find them
selves immersed in the bottomless pit of real, endless,
and insupportable miseries.
ST. ANTONY.
From Ins Life, -written "by the great St. Athanaeius.
ST. ANTONY was born in Egypt about the middle of
the third century, of parents noble and wealthy ; ac
cording to the world, but withall pious and religious.
By thorn he was trained up at homo, in great inno-
ST. ANTONF. 47
pence, so as to be a stranger in a manner to the world ;
and was by his own inclinations, entirely restrained
from the company of others of his age, and even from
frequenting the schools with them, for fear of his mor
als being corrupted by their conversation or bad ex
ample. His whole desire was bent upon God : he
frequented the church in the company of his parents,
assisted there with great modesty, gravity, and atten
tion ; and endeavored to follow in his practice the
instructions and rules of life which he there learnt.
He was not fond, as children usually are, of dainties,
or such things as are sweet and agreeable to their ap
petite, but always took what his parents gave him, and
Bought nothing more.
He was about eighteen or twenty years old, when
his parents dying, left him master of all their wealth,
which was considerable, with a little sister that was
very young. But scarce six months were passed after
their death, when one day going to church according
to his custom, and thinking with himself how the
Apostles had left all to follow our Lord, and the prim
itive Christians (Acts iv.) had sold their possessions,
and laid the price at the feet of the Apostles, to be by
them distributed to such as were in want, and how
great would be the reward m heaven, of them that
did in this manner. At his coming into the church
he heard the gospel read out of Matt. xix. where our
Saviour says to the young man that was rich. v. 21.
18 BT. ANTONY.
If thou will be perfect, go sell what thou hast, and givt
to the poor, ani thou sho.lt have treasure in heaven,
and come follow me. These words he took as ad
dressed by our Lord to himself, and particularly de
signed for him : and in consequence of this divine call
he presently parted with his whole estate in lands
sold his moveables, which were of great value, and
distributed the price to the poor, only reserving a
small matter for the use of his sister. Some time
after, when he had heard in the church that part ot
the gospel read (Matt, vi.) where our Lord warns his
disciples not to be careful for to-morrow, he concluded
to part with his house also, and to distribute all that
remained to the poor ; and having recommended his
young sister to the care of certain devout virgins, to be
trained up in their way of life, he quitted the world
for good and all, and entered with a strong resolution
upon the narrow and arduous path of religious per
fection.
There were not very many at that time in Egypt
irho professed a monastic life ; and those that did retired
not into the deserts, but only lived in separate cells in
die country, at a small distance from their respective
villages. One of these, now advanced in years, who
from his youth had followed this manner of life, lived
in the neighborhood : him Antony proposed to imi
tate ; and accordingly he began to follow the same
kind of life, but in places something more remote froia
ST. ANTONY. 49
his own village. Accordingly, as often as be r.ould
hear of any one that labored with more diligence than
ordinary in the pursuit of virtue and perfection, he
was sure to visit him, and to seek in his conversation
and method of life, some lessor for his own instruc
tion and edification. In the mean time he labored
with his own hands for his daily food ; and all that he
gained over and above what was necessary to purchp.se
his pittance of bread, he gave to the poor. He praye-i
very much, and endeavoring quite to forget the world
and all his worldly kindred, he turned all his affections
and desires towards the purchasing the hidden trea
sure of true wisdom, and the precious pearl of divine
love. In order to this he gaw diligent attention to
the word of God, contained in the holy Scriptures,
which he heard, and by meditating thereon, laid up
all these precepts of our Lord in such a manner in his
soul, as never to forget any of them ; but to have them
always written in his memory, as in a book. He en
vied no one, but had always a great deference for the
other servants of God ; and was continually studying
to remark those virtues, in which each one of them
excelled, in order to imitate them ; and thus assemble
as it were, and unite together in himself the different
perfections which he observed in the rest. Thus he
quickly outstripped them all: and yet remained al
ways most humble, meek, and full of brotherly love
and charity, so as to be ever most lear to them alL
50 ST. ANTONY
The devil, who was enraged to see so much ardor
in the pursuit of virtue in a person so young, era-
ployed all his arts and stratagems to divert him from
his holy undertaking, and to bring him back again
into the world; and for this end, he strongly repre
sented to his imagination the riches and possessions
which he had quitted, the nobility of his family, the
glory of this world, the advantages and pleasures of a
worldly life ; and, on the other hand, the extreme dif
ficulties and labors to be undergone in this way which
he had chosen ; the weakness of his body, unfit for
such extraordinary fatigues ; the long time he might
have to live under this insupportable burthen, &c.
suggesting withall that it was a crime in him to have
abandoned, in the mariner he did, his little sister,
whom he was obliged to have taken care of. By these
and such like representations, he strove to induce him,
after he had put his hand to the plough, to look back,
and to return again to the world. But the Saint
overcame all his temptations, by a lively faith ir,
Christ crucified, and by continual and fervent prayer.
"Wherefore the enemy changed his batteries, and as
saulted him in a most violent manner, night and day,
sleeping and waking, with carnal suggestions and al
lurements to lust. But the holy young man, armed
with divine grace, which he procured by earnest and
constant prayer, conquered also all these temptations,
by perpetually opposing to them, watchings, fastinjn,
ST. ANTONY. 51
and mortifications of the flesh, together with the faith
and remembrance of the judgment to come, of the
worm that never dies, and of the eternal flames of
hell. By these means he gaineu so complete a victory
over the enemy, that he ceased to molest him any
more in this kind. It was in consequence of this vie
tory, that the unclean spirit one day appeared to the
Saint in the shape of a most filthy, ugly, black hoy ;
bitterly weeping and lamenting, that after having de
ceived and seduced so many, he had been ove -.ome
by him. On being asked who he was, he answered
he was the spirit of impurity, who made it his busi
ness to wage a continual war against youth, in which
he was commonly successful ; and that it was he that
had so often attacked him, but had always been re
pulsed. Upon this the Saint, giving thanks to God,
was animated with a new courage against this detest
able spirit ; and began to sing aloud those words of
the Psalmist : The Lord is my helper, and I will des
pise my enemies. (Ps. cxvii. 7.) At which the filthy
phantom was put to flight.
These first victories did not render Antony neo-li-
gent, as if he might now think himself secure, and on
that account might relax in his spiritual exercises ; foi
he very well knew that the devil never sleeps, and tha
he has a thousand ways of tricking and deceivino- un
wary souls, especially as he holds a close correspond
ence witr i liu flesh, our domestic enemy, and with OUJT
52 ST. ANTONY.
unh-aj py self-love and its passions. Wherefore the
holy young man resolved to be still more upon his
guard, and to make every day, still greater progress in
religious perfection. He chastised his body, and
brought it under subjection by extraordinary auster
ities ; which how difficult soever in themselves, became
sweet and agreeable to him, by reason of that ardent
affection wherewith he embraced them. He fre
quently watched whole nights in prayer ; he eat but
onc,e in the four and twenty hours, and that not till
after sunset. His food was nothing but bread and
salt, his drink nothing but water, which he drank in a
Bmall quantity : he sometimes fitsted two days, or
more, without taking any food whatever. His bed
was a sort of mat made of bulrushes, .with a covering
of hair cloth : and sometimes only the bare ground.
His application to God in prayer was without inter
mission, like the Apostles (Philip iii. 13, 14,) forget
ting the things that are behind, that is, all that he had
already done, he was continually stretching forth him
self to those that are before ; and pressing, with
all his power towards the mark, for the prize of
the supernal vocation of God in Christ Jesus : ever
considering himself as if he was just beginning, and
thinking of no more than of the present day.
All this not being sufficient to satisfy his hunger and
thirst after perfection, he chose for himself a dwelling
amongst the tombs or monuments of the dead. In
ST. ANTONY. 53
wie of these he shut himself uj, and received from
time to time his necessary sustenance from a religious
man who came to visit him. The devil, foreseeing the
consequences he had to apprehend from this new kind
of enterprise, and fearing lest by degrees this young
man should draw many by his example into the desert,
to the prejudice of his usurped empire, was resolved
not to suffer him to go on thus ; and therefore (God
so permitting for the greater merit and glory of his
Saint,) Satan gathering together his infernal spirits,
attacked him one night with the utmost fury, inflict
ing upon him many stripes and grievous wounds, till
he left him stretched out like one dead, without either
speech or motion. In this condition his friend found
him the next morning, and carried him back to the
village on his shoulders, where a great multitude of
his kindred and neighbors were assembled about him
to perform his funeral obsequies ; when, behold, to
wards midnight, coming to himself, like one awakened
from a deep sleep, and looking about him, he perceiv
ed his friend there watching by him (for the rest were
all asleep) and he made a sign to him to carry him
back again to his monument, without waking any of
the company. He did so, and Antony being now
alone, but not as yet able to support himself on hi?
feet, by reason of his late treatment, performed his de
votions, as well as he could, lying prostrate on tho
floor At the end of his prayer, lifting up his
54 ST. ANTONY.
in defiance of the spirits of darkness, he cried out with
a lively faith and confidence in his God, " Lo, here am
I : here is Antony, ready to encounter with you all ;
I shall not run away ; do your worst ; none of you
hail be able to separate me from the love of Christ ;*
Tien he began to sing with the Psalmist : If the ar-
flies in camp should stand together against me, my
heart shall not fear. Ps. xxvi. 3.
The enemy not enduring to be thus outbraved, re
assembled his hellish fiends, and returned to the charge
with greater violent Lhan before, and raising a sudden,
violent tempest, wp.iet shook the very foundations of
the place, he laid it open on nil sides ; and entering in
with all his wicked ones, in the shape of wild beasts
and serpents of sundry kinds, he not only sought to
terrify the Saint with their hideous yelling, roaring,
howling, hissing, (fee., but also made him feel their
fury in a most sensible manner, by the fresh wounds
they inflicted upon him. But his courage and con
stancy was proof against all their attempts ; so that
notwithstanding the excessive pains he felt in his
wounded body, he mocked at all their vain efforts,
reproached them with their weakness and cowardice,
and with those forms of brutes, to which they were
now reduced, who had formerly proudly aspired to be
ike unto God. At length Jesus Christ was pleased
to come in a visible manner to the assistance of his
servant in the. midst of this conflict; for lifting up his
flT. ANTONY. 55
eyes, he saw the top of the place open, and a bright
ray of divine light to enter in, which instantly dissi
pated those infernal spirits, and released him from all
his pains. The Saint understanding that his Lord
was present, thus addressed him : ;t Where wast thou
my good Jesus, all this while ? Where wast thou ?
Why didst thou not come before to heal my wounds?
The Lord answered, I was here Antony ; but I waited
to see thy combat. And now because thou hast fought
so bravely, and not yielded, I will always assist thee,
and make thy name famous over the whole earth."
Antony having heard these words, raised himself up
to pray, and found that our Lord had now given him
greater strength than he had before. At the time
when this happened to him he was about thirty-five
years old.
After this, being desirous of advancing still more in
Christian perfection, he took a resolution of retiring into
the desert, and of withdrawing himself altogether from
the conversation of men. This resolution he commu
nicated to the old monk his friend, of whom we spoke
above, proposing that he should accompany him ; but
the old man excused himself, alleging his advanced
age, and the novelty of such an enterprise. Antony,
however, no way discouraged, set out upon his jour-
ley towards the heart of the wilderness, at that time
utterly uninhabited, arid lying at a very great distance
from any town or village. As he walked along, ha
56 ST. ANTONY.
saw a large dish of silver with which the enemy sought
to interrupt his journey, lying on the ground ; but he
easily discovered the artifice, and cried : " This is a
trick of thine, Satan ; thou shalt not divert me from
my resolution ; keep thy silver to thyself, and let it
perish with thee." At which words the dish was im
mediately dissolved into smoke. Afterwards a large
lump of true gold was flung in his way ; but this was
no more capable of interrupting his journey, than the
glittering appearance of the silver dish : for as soon as
he perceived it, he flew from it with as much speed, as
if he were flying from a devouring fire ; and proceed
ed on his way until he came to a mountain, where he
found an old desolate castle, full of serpents and vene-
mous creatures, which had taken up their abode there
in by reason of the length of time it had remained
uninhabited. This place he made choice of for his
dwelling ; taking in with him his provisions of bread,
which with a little water, according to his scanty al
lowance, might suffice him for six months.
At his coming to take possession of this castle, all
its old inhabitants, the serpents and other veneraous
creatures, having fled away, he shut up the entrance
with stones, and during the twenty years that he dwelt
therein, he neither went out at any time himself, nor
Buffered any one to enter, not even those who brought
him, at the end of every half year, a fresh provision o,
bread : which they conveyed to him by getting up to
ST. ANTONY. 5?
the roof and letting it drop down. Tliey that came
thither, as many did in process of time, out of a desire
of seeing him, or learning what was become of him,
sometimes remained the whole night at the door ; and
ere frequently surprised at hearing the noises where-
ith the devils sought to molest him, and the voices,
as it were, of many persons contending with him and
saying : " Why earnest thou into our habitation ?
What hast thou to do in the desert ? Depart from
these coasts which belong not to thee ; never think to
be able to remain here, or to resist our attacks."
When those that were without heard these or such
like words, they at first imagined some men had found
means to get into his habitation, and were there con
tending with him ; but looking through the chinks,
and seeing him all alone, they understood that the
voices they had heard proceeded from the evil spirits,
seeking to drive him thence ; and being upon this oc
casion very much frightened, they called to Antony,
begging his assistance, whilst, he comforted and en-
iKmraged them from within, bidding them to arm
themselves with the sign of the cross, and not to be
alarmed at these vain terrors. At other times when
they came, and scarcely expected to find him alive,
they heard him cheerfully singing within, and repeat
ing those words of the 67th Pslam : "Let God arise,
and let h*s enemies be scattered : and let them that
hate him flee from before his face ; as smoke vanisheth^
58 ST. ANTONY.
so let them vanish away : as wax melteth before ikt
fire, so let the wicked perish at the presence of God.
At the end of the twenty years lie had spent with
God in this solitude, Antony, yielding to the importu
nity of the multitude that resorted to him, and were
even ready to force their way into his habitation, 111010
^specially as many of them desired to learn anu imi-
v ate his manner of life, came forth, as it were out of 2
heavenly sanctuary, with so serene a countenance, and
such animation, strength and vigor in his whole per
son, as attracted the admiration of all who saw him.
And here God was pleased to work many miracles by
him, in casting out devils from such as were possessed,
and healing various diseases. The Saint took occa
sion, at the same time, to make powerful exhortations
to those that addressed themselves to him : he com
forted the afflicted ; instructed the ignorant ; -recon
ciled such as were at variance, and earnestly exhorted
all to look to the welfare of their souls, and to prefer
nothing before the love of Christ. He set before the
eyes of his auditory the greatness of the good things
to come in a happy eternity the infinite goodness and
mercy of God the benefit he has conferred, and the
love he bears towards mankind, particularly manifest
ed in not sparing, but delivering up his own Son to
death for the *Mvation of us all. By these and such
like discourses, the Saint brought over a great number
of his hearers to a contempt of all those things taat
59
pass away wit j tii.Ne, and to an effectual resolution of
dedicating the short remainder of the days of their
mortality to the love and service of God, in a solitary
and religious life. Thus, by degrees, the deserts and
mountains began to be peopled with a number of holy
feouls (all acknowledging Antony for their father, foun
der, and master,) who, by the purity and sanctity of
their lives, seemed to resemble so many angels in hu
man bodies. They renounced all the honors, riches
and pleasures of this world : or rather, exchanged
them for others by far more great and solid even in
this life, and for such as shall never end hereafter.
They watched and prayed without ceasing ; they me
ditated frequently on the word of (iod ; they sung
his praises day and night ; they kept, in a manner,
a continual fast ; they labored with their hands for
their own suppoTt, and to have wherewith to supply
the necessities of their indigent neighbors : in fine,
they all lived in a holy union and perfect charity, with
out murmurs or detractions, and felt no other ambition
or strife, but who should excel his neighbor in all kind
of Christian virtues : so that to behold this multitude
of holy solitaries separated at a distance, both in place
and manners, from the children of the world, in those
vast deserts, and leading there such angelical lives, was
enough to make any one cry out with Balaam, Numb.
*xiv. How beautiful are thy tabernacles, Jacob^
and thy tents. Israel! As woody vallies, as
60 ST. ANTONY.
id gardens near the rivers, as tabernacles which tht
Lord hath pitched, &c.
St. Athanasius sets down at largo an excellent dis
burse which Antony delivered one day, by the desire,
tnd for the instruction of his disciples, in which, (after
earnestly exhorting them to such an unwearied fervoT
and constancy m pursuit of their holy undertaking, as
never to slacken their pace, but daily to renew their
resolutions as if they were just now beginning, and to
strive to advance by great strides towards religious
perfection,) he puts them in mind, first of the short
ness of the time of this mortal life, of the length of
eternity, and how trivial those services are which God
requires of us for the purchasing of eternal life : that
all the labors and sufferings of this life shall shortly
have an end, but that our reward shall continue for
ever. Secondly, he would therefore not have their,
imagine they had made any great sacrifice to God in
parting with their estates, houses, or money, from
which they must, whether they will or not, be in a
short time separated by death : since what they were
to receive in exchange from our Lord, would infinitely
surpass in value the possession of the whole earth, and
be theirs for all eternity. Thirdly, he inculcates to
them, that a Christian ought never to fix his affection,
or bestow his care upon any of those things which he
rannot take along with him when he dies, but only on
mch as may help him on his way to heaven, and there
ST. ANTONY. 61
remain with him uuring eternity : such as true wis
dom purity of soul and body Christian justice
fortitude charity, and tranquillity of soul, by a vic
tory over our passions : for these are the real goods
of a Christian, which are alone worthy of his love.
Fourthly, he puts them in mind, that they are strictly
obliged, in consequence of their creation, to dedicate
their whole lives to the service of that Lord who made
them for this very end, that they should be his ser
vants ; and who, by all manner of titles, has an indis
putable n^ht to their service ; and that neither their
past, nor present labors can exempt them from con
tinuing therein till death ; so that if they would not
lose their crown, they must resolve to labor to the end,
relying always on the assistance of their good God,
who never forsakes those who do not first forsake him.
Fifthly, he recommends to them the remembrance of
death ; the certainty thereof, as well as the uncertain
ty of the hour in which we shall be called from hence
of the judgment that is to follow after death, and
of the eternity to come, as so many powerful restraints
to preserve them from sin ; and as sovereign means to
cure their sloth spur them on to the practices of vir
tue wean their affections from transitory things, and
teach them to tread under their feet the riches and
pleasures of a world which \ve must so sudder 1 " ^af
with. Sixthly, he tells them that the Greeks took
great pains, and travelled into distant countries, in or-
62 ST. ANTONT.
der to meet with masters from whom they might learn
vain and empty sciences, such as were of no service to
their souls in order to eternity : but that the Christian,
in order to acquire true wisdom and the science of the
saints, which conducts to eternal life, needed to go no
farther than into his own soul : where he should, if he
sought him by a spirit of recollection and prayer, find
his true master, the kingdom of God, and with it all
good. Seventhly, he exhorts them to fight in a par
ticular manner against the tyranny, as he calls it, of
the passion of anger, as a mortal evil and capital one-
my of the justice of God ; and therefore he would
have them to keep a constant guard upon their own
hearts : the more so, because of the enemies that are
continually waging war with Christians, but more es
pecially against religious men and women : and who
employ a thousand tricks and artifices to deceive the
unwary. And here, as one that had long experience
in this kind of warfare, he acquaints them with the
different stratagems and manifold temptations by which
these wicked spirits labor, without ceasing, to with
draw religious souls from the service of God, and bring
them back to the broad road of the world, and the
ways of iniquity and sin : but for their comfort and
encouragement, he assures them, that these enemies
have no power over such as heartily resist and despise
their suggestions : that Christ has triumphed ovei
them by his death : and that a lively faith a purity
ST. ANTONY. 63
nd sincerity in seeking him a diligence in the spirit
ual exercises of watching, praying, fasting, &c. togeth
er with the virtues of meekness, roluntary poverty,
humility, contempt of vain-glory, and especially au ar
dent devotion to Christ crucified, are weapons which
all the powers of hell cannot withstand. By such lea
sons as these, but more especially by the great exam
pie of their master, the disciples of Antony were en
coin-aged and spurred on to a daily progress in thft
ways of Christian perfection.
When the persecution, which had been first set on
foot by Diocletian, and carried on with great fury by
Maximinian Galerius, raged exceedingly in Egypt,
where it crowned innumerable martyrs, many were led
to Alexandria out of the country to be put to death
jbr Christ. On this occasion Antony quitted his cell,
to follow these that were going to become the victims
of Christ : saying to his disciples, " let us go to the glo
rious triumphs of our brethren, that we may either
share with them in the fight, or at least be spectators
of their conflict." He was in hopes of obtaining for
himself the crown of martyrdom ; but could not de
liver himself up, nor obtain permission to associate
himself with the glorious confessors that were con
demned to the mines or confined in the prisons.
However, whenever any were brought before the
Judge, he accompanied them into the court, arid with
great liberty and diligence exhorted them to coustacj
64 ST. ANTONY.
and perseverance ; and when they were sentenced to
die, he rejoiced as much in their victory as if it had
been his own, and failed not to accompany them to
the place of execution, to be a witness of their happy
triumph. The judge seeing the courage and zeal of
Antony and his companions, published an order pro
hibiting any of the monks to be present in court dur
ing the trials of the Christians, and enjoining them all
to depart from the city. Upon these orders the others
absconded for that day ; but Antony, fearing nothing,
washed his garments, and took the next opportunity
to present himself in a more eminent place in sight
of the judge, desiring nothing more than to suffer for
Christ. But God was pleased to accept of his good
will, and to reserve his servant for the benefit of innu
merable souls. However, he continued assisting and
encouraging the confessors of Christ upon all occa
sions till the storm of the persecution was blown over,
and then returned with new fervor to his former soli
tude, where he redoubled his watchings and fastings,
wearing always a garment of hair-cloth next to his
skin, and never washing his body ; insomuch, that no
one ever saw Antony naked during his life.
And now he began again to shut himself up for a
time in his cell, without admitting any one to come in
to him. But still he could not prevent many from
resorting to his door, nor even from remaining there
the whole night, in order to seek a cure for their dif-
ST. ANTONY. 65
ferent maladies, through the experience they had of
the miracles that God frequently wrought by him ; so
that partly to avoid the distractions occasioned by this
concourse of people, and partly to fly the danger of
vain-glory, he took the resolution to fly as far as the
higher Thebais, where no man might know him.
Wherefore, taking some bread with him, he went to
the banks of the Nile, and there sat down, waiting for
some boat that might pass that way. And here he
heard a voice, saying to him, "Antonv, whither art
thou going ? and to what end 1 " He, as one accus
tomed to such colloquies, answered without fear : " Be
cause the people will not suffer me to remain quiet,
but require things _>! me that are out of the reach of
my weakness, I have thought it best to go away to
the higher Thebais. " If thou goest," said the voice,
" to the place thou proposest, thou shalt endure a
greater, yea, a double labor ; but if thou desirest to
be quiet indeed, go thy way now to such a place,"
naming a mountain in the heart of the wilderness.
"But who," said Antony, "shall show me the way?
for there are no tracks or paths that lead thither, arid
I know nothing of the country." He that spoke with
him replied, that there were some Saracens or Arabians
at hand, who were come into Egypt to trade, and that
they would show him the way. Antony followed this
heavenly direction, and going up to the Saracens, de
sired they would take him along with them in their
66 3T. ANTONY.
journey through the desert : and after having travelled
with him three days and three nights, he arrived at a
very high mountain, the place appointed him by
heaven, at the foot of which there was a spring of
clear water, and in the adjacent field a few wild palm-
trees. Here then he resolved to fix his abode, where
he might live quiet separated from the conversation
of men. As to his food, he contented himself with a
little bread (which the Saracens, admiring his virtue,
gave him at parting, or bestowed upon him afterwards
when they passed that way,) and with the small pro
vision of wild dates which the palms afforded him, till
his brethren, having found out the place of his retreat,
brought him necessaries from time to time. Antony,
desirous to ease them of that trouble, having procured
by their means some wheat, and a proper instrument
for the purpose, found a little spot of ground wherein
he sowed the wheat, which brought him a crop suffi
cient for his use, to his great satisfaction at being thus
enabled to live by the labor of his hands, without be
coming troublesome to any one. He also cultivated
a little garden with herbs, in order to entertain hie
wearied brethren after their journey, when they came
to visit him through the burning deserts. This spot
of ground lay exposed to the beasts which resorted
thither for the sake of tb-j spring, who did no small
damage to Antony, bj feeding upon his herbs and
corn: wherefore having caught one of thnrn, he said
ST. ANTONY. 8
to them all : " Why do you this wrong to me, who do
none to you ? Get ye gone : and, in the name of ths
Lord, never come hither any more." From which
time they were never after seen to come near that
"lace.
Whilst Antony remained here entertaining himself
with God, the devils, his unwearied enemies, ceased
not to wage perpetual war against him ; but he des
pised all their efforts, and always triumphed over them,
by his usual arms of a lively faith and fervent prayer.
His disciples who came to visit him, and were some
times witnesses of his conflicts relate, how they heard
the tumultuous noise and voices of a numerous peo
ple, with the rattling of arms, and had seen the whole
mountain covered by a multitude ot devils, with Antony
fighting against them, and putting them all to flight
by his prayers. " It is indeed, worthy of admiration,"
says St. Athanasius, "that in so vast a wilderness one
man alone should have stood his ground so long,
without either apprehending the daily encounters he
met with from wicked spirits, or yielding to the fury
of so many wild beasts and serpents as swarm in those
deserts. But it was with good reason that David
sung, Psalm cxxiv. They that trust in the Lord shall
be as mount Sion : he shall not be moved for ever
for so Antony, by keeping hi*> miwd firm, quiet, ana
immovable in God, put all the devils to flight, and tht
beasts of the earth shall be at peace ivith thee" (Job
68 ST. ANTONT.
v. 23.) and subject to him. One night whilst lie was
watching in prayer, the devil brought such a multitude*
of wild beasts together about him, that it seemed as
if there were none left behind in the whole desert, all
of whom, encompassed him on every side, with open
jaws, threatened to tear him in pieces. The Saint un
derstanding the artifice of the malignant spirit, said,
unconcernedly : " If the Lord has given you any power
over me, make use of it in devouring me ; but if you
are brought hither by devils, depart instantly, for I am
a servant of Christ." No sooner had he spoke these
words but the whole multitude of wild beasts fled
away, and left him alone to continue his devotion.
One day whilst he was at work, according to his cus
tom, making baskets, to exchange them for the provi
sions which the brethren brought him, a monster pre
sented itself before him, in the shape of half a man
and half an ass ; having on this occasion made the
sign of the cross, and said : " I am a servant of
Christ if thou art sent to me, here am I ; I don t
run away." At these words the monster instantly
fled, and falling down in the midst of its flight, burst
and was destroyed : to show all the attempts of
Satan against Antony should in the end perish, and
come to nothing.
After some time the brethren prevailed on the man
of God to come down from his mountain, in order to
visit their monasteries. Now in their wav homeward
ST. ANTONT. 69
through those burning deserts, the provision of wate?
quite failed them ; and as none could be found, and
the weather being violently hot, they were all in dan
ger of perishing. Antony on this occasion had re
course to prayer ; when, after withdrawing himself at
a little distance from the company, and falling upcn
his knees, he had implored, with his hands stretched
forth to heaven, the mercy of the Lord, behold the
tears which he then shed presently brought forth a
spring of water out of the earth, with which they both
refreshed their own thirst, saved the life of their camel,
and filled their vessels for the remainder of their jour
ney. The Saint who was received with great joy by
all the religious, as their common father, conceived no
less joy within himself, to see the fervor and resolution
with which they all applied themselves to their spirit
ual exercises. And that he might not seem to come
to them from his mountain empty handed, he made
them excellent exhortations in order to their spiritual
progress. He had also the comfort to hear the agree
able news, that his sister, whom he had left so young
in the world, was now grown old in the profession of
virginity, and was become mistress and superior of
other holy virgins in a religious state of life.
After some days, Antony returned again to hia
mountain, where he again received more frequent vis
its, as well from his own religious as from others, who,
being possessed or obsessed by evil spirits, or afflicted
70 ST. ANTONY.
with various infirmities, had recourse to his prayers foi
their delivery ; on which occasion God wrought many
miracles by him ; favoring him also with prophetic
light, and other extraordinary graces and gifts. He
exhorted all that came to see him to have a strong
faith in Jesus Christ : to love him with their whole
hearts; to keep their minds pure from all evil
thoughts, and their bodies uncontaminated from all
uncleanness ; not to suffer themselves to be imposed
upon by gluttony ; to hate vain-glory ; to pray very
O ften; to sing psalms to the divine praise every
morning, noon, and night ; to meditate on the pre
cepts of the word of God ; to have the great exam
ple of the saints always before their eyes, in order to
spur themselves on to the practice of all virtues ; not
to let the sun go down upon your anger, Eph. iv. 26.
which precept of the apostles he applied to all other
Bins ; recommending to all to call themselves to a strict
account by a daily examination of conscience, and tc
repent and amend without delay whensoever they
found themselves to have failed in any thing. He
added, that if they did not discover any guilt in them-
lelves, they must not therefore be puffed up with self-
conceit, or presume to justify themselves, and despise
others ; but rather fear, least self-love should blind and
deceive them ; remembering that an all-seeing God is
to be their judge ; that his judgments are very dif
ferent from those of men ; and that there is, accord
ar:. ANTONY. 71
rng to the wise man, Prov. xiv. 12. a ivay which seem-
eth just to a man : but the ends thereof lead to
death."
One day, about the ninth hour, viz. about three of
the clock in the afternoon, when he had begun his
prayers before the taking of his meal, he was seized
with a rapt or ecstacy in which he saw himself in
spirit carried up aloft by angels, whilst the demons o*
the air, opposing his passage, alledged against him the
sins of his younger days, even from his very child
hood ; and when the angels replied, that these sins,
by the mercy of Christ, had been forgiven, they bid
them to charge him, if they could, with any material
sin he had committed since he had consecrated him
self to God in a religious state of life. Accordingly
these lying spirits having forged many false accusa
tions against him which they could not prove, they
were therefore forced to leave the passage free for him.
Upon this Antony returned to himself, but so greatly
affected with what he had seen, as well as with the
dreadful and dangerous conflict a poor soul has to pass
through with these princes of darkness, that he forgot
his food, and spent the remainder of the day, as well
as the whole night, in sighs and lamentations, at con
sidering the dangers from these wicked spirits, that
threaten the souls of men both in life and death, which
thoughtless mortals nevertheless so little apprehend,
One night, whilst his disciples had been questioning
72 S*T. ANTONY.
him concerning the state of souls immediately aftei
death, he was called upon by a voice saying, " Anto
ny arise, go out, and see." He arose, and went out,
and looking up towards heaven, he saw a spectre of a
monstrous height and dreadful aspect, whose head
reached the clouds : he saw also persons with wings
that sought to fly up to heaven, and he perceived that
the monster, with outstretched hands, strove to stop
them in their passage : some of whom he caught and
cast down to the earth, but could not prevent the rest
from flying above his reach, or of mounting up to hea
ven. By this vision he was given to understand, that
the devil had power to stop the flight of those depart
ing souls who were in sin, but that he had no power
over pure and holy souls, nor could prevent their fly
ing up to heaven. These visions Antony related to
his disciples : not out of ostentation or vain-glory, be
ing always averse to attributing any thing to himself,
or suffering any thing to be ascribed to him, but
merely for their instruction and edification.
As to the rest, no one could be more meek, patient,
or humble than Antony. He entertained a particular
respect aiid veneration for all the clergy ; giving even
to the lowest clerk in minor orders, the preference be
fore himself, and even bowing down his head before
bishops and priests, to crave their benediction. Al
though he had so great a mastery over himself in
spirituals, and was so divinely taught, yet he was
ST. ANTONY. 73
never ashamed to seek instruction, not only from the
clerks that came to visit him, but even from his own
disciples ; and whatsoever good he heard from any
one, he humbly and thankfully acknowledged himself
assisted thereby. Among other gifts with which he
was favored by our Lord, he was particularly remark
able for an admirable grace that showed itself in his
countenance, which distinguished him in such a man
ner from all the rest of the holy inhabitants of the
deserts, that any stranger who came to visit him,
though he happened to be in the company of a multi
tude of other monks, leaving all others would be sure
to run up to him : as if the purity of his soul had
shone forth from his very face, which was -always mo
destly cheerful and amiable, and never altered eitheh
by prosperity or adversity. However, he would have
no communication with schismatics or heretics ; but
exhorted all that came near him, to fly their danger
ous conversation and impious doctrines. He had a
particular horror for the blasphemies of the Arians,
whom he considered as the forerunners of Antichrist.
He even quitted for a while his solitude, at the desire
of Athanasius and the catholic bishops, to go to Alex
andria to confute their wicked assertions ; where, by
his doctrine and miracles, he not only effectually con
futed the heretics, and confirmed the catholics in thei
faith, but also brought over a great number of iiifideL
to the Christian religion. The heathen philosophers
74 ST. ANTONY.
also came often to dispute with him about religion,
imagining they could easily entangle a man so entirely
illiterate, and an utter stranger to all human science?
as Antony was known to be, with their captious rea
soning and learned sophistry ; but they were surprised
beyond conception to rind with what depth of wisdom
he answered all their objections, and proved the truth
of the Christian religion in a manner to which they
knew not what reply to make, and even confirm it with
miracles wrought in their presence.
The reputation of Antony s sanctity and heavenly
wisdom was not confined to Egypt : it spread itself
far and near through a great part of the then known
world : it even reached the imperial court, insomuch
that the emperor Constantino the Great, and his sons
Constan and Constantious, wrote several times to him,
and bested that he would favor them with an answer.
&O
As for his part, he made very little account of this
honor, and told his disciples that they were not to
think it much that an emperor, who was no more than
a mortal man, should write to him ; but rather ought
to admire and bear always in mind, that the eternal
God had been so good as not only to write his law for
man, but to send down his only Son to deliver his
ttord to them. However, at the desire of all the
brethren, he returned them an answer, in which, after
congratulating with them for their believing in and
worshipping Christ, he gave them wholesome instruc-
8T. ANTONY. 75
tions for the welfare of their souls ; advising them not
co make any c,Teat account of their worldly grandeur
and power, nor of any of those things that pass away
with time, and never to forget that they were mortals,
wiio must quickly appear before another iudo-e. He
also put them in mind of their obligation of showing
clemency to their subjects, of rendering them justice,
and of succouring the poor and distressed ; and they
must remember that the true and everlasting king of
all ages is Jesus Christ alone.
After Antony had finished the business that brought
him to Alexandria, he hastened back to his cell on the
mountain, and to his usual exercises and austerities.
For he used to say, that a religious man conversing
with seculars out of his monastery was like a fish out
of water, which is in danger of perishing, except it
quickly be restored again to its element ; and there
fore, as to his part, he would never come out of his
solitude, but when some work of great charity obliged
him. However, he willingly received those seculars
that came to him, and entertained them with heavenly
discourses ; exhorting them to look beyond this world,
and to labor for a happinees that shall have no end :
and such was the unction and efficacy which God gave
to his words, that many were moved by his exhorta
tions to give up their honors, their riches, and all their
worldly expectations, in order to dedicate themselves
eternally to the same happy service in which they saw
78 ST. ANTONY.
him engaged. He seemed to have been given to the
land of Egypt by our Lord, as an excellent physiciar
to heal all their spiritual diseases : for whoever came
to him in his troubles and temptations found a sensi
ble benefit in his conversation ; if he came with sor
row, he returned with joy ; if he came with rancour
in his heart against his neighbor, he returned with dis
positions of peace and charity ; if he came oppressed
with the sense of his poverty and distress, he returned
with the contempt of this world, a willingness to
take up the cross, and to wear the livery of Jesus
Christ. The lukewarm learnt from him to be fervent
in the service of God ; nay, the very libertines return
ed from him with a desire of embracing a chaste and
penitential life : for such was the gift he had of dis
cerning spirits, that he seemed to read in the faces of
all, the interior dispositions and state of their souls,
and accordingly accommodated his instructions and
prescriptions to the nature and quality of their disor
ders. Nor was this benefit confined to Egypt alone :
for as the fame of Antony had reached all parts of the
world, so men came from all parts to see him, and no
one visited him without fruit : no one ever complain
ed that he had lost his labor in coming to see him,
how long or difficult soever his journey might have
been.
The multitude who went to see him did not inter
rupt his interior attention to God any more than hia
ST. ACTONS . 77
daily labors, which he sanctified with mental prayer.
Oftentimes whilst he was walking or sitting with his
visitors, he was ravished out of himself, so as to re
main for a long time insensible ; at which time many
secrets were revealed to him. Once in particular he
beheld a vision in his ecstacy, by which he was admon
ished two years before it happened of the cruel havoc
the Arians would make in the church of Alexandria :
which, when he returned to himself, he related with
many sighs and tears to those that were with him ;
but then added for their comfort, that this storm would
quickly blow over, and that the church should again
be restored to her former lustre. This persecution
was raised against the church of Alexandria, when the
Arians, having procured the banishment of St. Atha-
nasius, introduced one Gregory, a man of their faction,
to ba the bishop in his place : upon which occasion
Balacius, an Arian, the commander of the troops, par
ticularly exerted himself in persecuting the faithful ;
which he did with so much rigor, that he ordered even
the sacred virgins, and the religious men to be public
ly scourged, as if they had been the vilest malefactors.
St. Antony wrote a letter to him to deter him join
this cruelty, to this effect : " I see the wrath of God
coming upon thee : cease to persecute the Chris lans,
lest that wrath should overtake thee which a ^a iy
threatens thee with approaching destruction." Ihe
unhappy man slighted the warning of the Saint, and
78 ST. ANTONY.
spitting upon the letter, flung it down upon the ground ;
then after having abused the persons that brought it,
bid them go tell Antony, that he should serve him also
in the same manner as he had done these monks for
whom he interested himself. But not many days passed
before the vengeance of God overtook the wretch, when,
as he was riding out to a place in the neighborhood,
in the company of Nestorious the governor, one of his
own horses, who was before remarkably gentle and
quiet, with a sudden bite brought him down to the
ground, and standing over him, knawed and tore his
thighs in so terrible a manner, that he died within
three days.
And now the time drew near when Antony, now
about one hundred and five years of age, should ex
change his mortal pilgrimage for a happy immortality.
He went, according to his custom, to visit his brethren
that dwelt in the nearer desert, signifying to them that
his dissolution was at hand, and that this was the last
time they should see him. These words drew tears
from their eyes : they all embraced him as their pa
rent about to depart from them into another woild.
They would have detained him with them, desiring to
be present at his death. To this he would not con
sent ; but after having given them his last instructions,
he strongly exhorted them to fervor and perseverance
in their holy institute, and to constancy in the catholic
faith ; showing the utmost joy that he was now shortly
ST. AN10NY. 79
lo depart from this place of banishment to, his true
and everlasting home ; and taking his last farewell of
them he hastened back to his mountain. A few
months afterwards, finding his death to draw near, he
sailed the two disciples, (who for the last fifteen years
of his life had their cells in his neighborhood) and said
to them : " My children, I am now going, according
to the expression of the Scripture, the way of my
fathers : for now the Lord calls for me : I long now
to see the heavenly mansions. But as for you, my
dearly beloved, I admonish you to beware lest you
lose on a sudden the labor of so long a time ; but
every day consider yourselves if you had but that day
entered upon a religious life, and the strength of your
purpose shall daily increase. You know the various
artifices of the devils ; you have also seen their furious
assaults, and how weak and cowardly they are. Re
tain an ardent love for Jesus, let the faith of his name
be strongly fixed in your mind ; a strong faith in Jesus
will put all the devils to flight. Remember also the
lessons I have given you, and the uncertain condition
of this mortal life, which may be cut off any day ;
and make no doubt but the heavenly mansions shall
be your portion. Avoid the poison of schismatics and
heretics, and follow my example in keeping them at a
distance, because they are enemies of Christ. Make
it your principal care to keep the commandments of
the Lord, that so after your death the saints of God
80 ST. ANTONY.
may receive you as their friends and acquaintance into
the eternal tabernacles." He added, as his last re
quest, that they should bury his body privately, and
let no man know the place ; lest the Egyptians, accord
ing to their custom, should take it up to embalm it,
and keep it as they did their mummies. " As to my
garments, (said he) give my sheep-skin, and this old
cloak which I lie upon, to bishop Athanasius, who
brought it me new ; let bishop Serapion, another gen
erous defender of the faith, have my other sheep-skin ;
and keep my garment of hair-cloth for yourselves : so
fare you well, my children, for Antony is departing,
and shall remain no longer with you in this world."
When he had made an ed of speaking, as his dis
ciples were kissing him, he drew up his feet a little,
and met death with a joyful countenance, (anno 356)
breathing out his pure soul into the hands of the an
gels, who were there ready to receive him, and carry
him to the happy regions of eternal bliss. His disci
ples buried him privately, as he had desired : " And
his legatee, says St. Athanasius, (speaking of himself)
u who had the happiness to receive by the orders of
blessed Antony, his old cloak and his sheep skin, em
braces Antony, in his gifts, as if he had been enriched
by him with a large inheritance ; he rejoices in the
garments, which present before the eyes of his soul
the image of his sanctity." The same holy doctor of
the Church and champion of the faith, wrote the life
ST. ANTONY. 81
of St. Antony, from his own knowledge of him, and
from the testimonies of his disciples, which we have
here abridged, and which was then and has been ever
since received, embraced, and admired in all parts of
the world, by every well-wisher to Christian piety, for
the important lessons it contains. The share it had in
bringing the conversion of the great, St. Augustine to
a happy conclusion, is too remarkable to be passed
over in silence.
The Saint relates in his Confessions (lib. 8. ch. 6.)
how, whilst he was yet struggling under the load of
those wicked habits, which he could not resolve effec
tually to cast off, he was one day visited by Pontitia-
nus, one that belonged to the emperor s court, but a
good Christian, who introduced a discourse " concern
ing Antony, a monk of Egypt, whose name, says St.
Augustine, speaking to God, was exceeding illustrious
among thy servants, but to that hour unknown to us :
which he perceiving dwelt the longer upon that sub
ject, informing us of the life of so great a man, and
wondering that we had heard nothing of him. We
were astonished (speaking of himself and his friend
Alipius) to hear of thy miracles so very well attested,
done so lately, and almost in our days, in the true
faith, and in the catholic church : and indeed we all
wondered ; we, that they were so great, and he, that
they were unknown to us. Thence he changed his
discourse to the societies of monasteries and to the!/
82 8T. ANTONY.
manner of life, yielding a sweet odor to thee, and to
the fruitful breasts of those barren deserts ; of all
which we had heard nothing, although there was then
without the walls of Milan a convent full of good
brothers, under the care of Ambrose, and yet we knew
it not. He proceeded in his discourse, to which wo
listened with a silent attention, and related how upon
a certain time, whilst the court was at Triers, and the
emperor was one afternoon entertained with the sports
of the circus, he and three of his companions went out
a walking among the gardens, near the walls of the
city, and there, as it happened, going two and two
together, one with him took one way, and the other
two another; and that these two, as they were wander
ing about, lighted upon a certain cottage, where some
servants of thine dwelt, poor in spirit, for theirs is the
kingdom of heaven, (Matt, v.) and there they found a
book, containing the life of Antony, which one of them
began to read, to admire, and be inflamed with : and
whilst he was reading, he began to think of embracing
the same kind of life, and of quitting his worldly office
in the emperor s court to become thy servant. Then
being suddenly filled with divine love, a wholesome
shame, and anger at himself, he cast his eyes upon his
friend, and said : Tell me, I beseech thee, with all the
pains we take in this world, whither would our ambi
tion aspire to ? what do we seek ? what is/it we pro
pose to ouiselves in this employment? can we eve*
ST. ANTONY. 83
hope for any greater honor at court than to arrive at
the friendship and favor of the emperor ? and there
what is to be found there, that is not brittle and fuJ!I
of dangers ? and through how many dangers must we
ascend to this greater danger ? and how long will this
continue ? But the friend and favorite of God, I may,
if I please, become now presently, and remain so for
ever. Having said this, and laboring as it were in tra
vail of a new life, he again cast his eyes on the book,
and continuing to read, was changed where thou saw-
est, and his mind totally stripped of the world, as soon
appeared : for whilst he was reading, the waves of his
heart, rolling to and fro, cast forth some sighs and
groans, till at length he concluded and resolved upon
better things ; and being now wholly thine, he said to
his friend : Now I have entirely bid adieu to our for
mer hope, and am fully resolved on being a servant 01
God, and upon beginning to be so from this hour and
in this place. If thou be not willing to do the same,
do not at least offer to oppose my resolution. The
other replied : That he would stick by him as a com
panion in the service of so great a Master, and for such
immense wages. By this time Pontitiantis and his
companion, who were seeking after them, came to the
same placg ; and having found them, reminded them
of returning home, because the day was far spent.
But they acquainting them with their determination,
s well as with the manner in which they had taken
84 BT. ANTONY.
this resolution, and were confirmed in it, requested
that if they did not choose to join with them, they
would at least give them no disturbance. Whereupon
being nothing altered from what they were before,
they nevertheless bewailed themselves, and after
piously congratulating them, and recommending them
selves to their prayers, with hearts weighed down
wards towards the earth, they returned to the palace,
whilst the other two, with hearts elevated to heaven,
continued in the cottage : both of them were con
tracted to young ladies, who as soon as they heard
their resolution, consecrated in like manner their vir
ginity to thee. These things were related to us by
Pontitianus," concludes St. Augustine, who declares
in the following chapter, the wonderful effects this dis
course had upon him ; and how, as soon as Pontitia
nus was gone, he set upon Alipius, and exclaimed :
" What is this we suffer ? what is this tlio. . hast been
hearing ? .the unlettered rise up and seize heaven by
force : and whilst with all our learning we, remaining
without courage or heart, still wallow in the flesh and
blood. Are we ashamed to follow them, because they
have got the start, and are gone before us? But
ought we not to be still more ashamed, if we do not
so much as follow ? " With these words he hurried
himself away into the garden, where, after a strong
conflict, he was at length fully converted, by taking
up, by the admonition of a voice from heaven, the
ST. HILARION. 85
epistles of St. Paul, and reading there the sentence
that first occurred, Rom. xiii. 13, 14. Not in rioting
and drunkenness, not in chambering and impurities^
not in contention and envy ; but put ye on the Lord
Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh in
its concupiscences.
ST. HILARION.
From his Life written by St. Jerome.
HILARION was born at a village called ThaHtha, five
miles from the city of Gaza, in Palestine, of infidel
parents, who sent him, when very young, to study at
Alexandria, where he gave proofs of an excellent ge
nius for his age, and of his good dispositions to virtue.
Here he embraced the faith of Christ, and young as
he was, could find no pleasure either in theatrical
shows, incentives to lust, or any other worldly diver
sions, but delighted only in frequenting the church,
and in religious exercises. Hearing of the fame of
St. Antony, he went to visit him in the desert, and put
off his secular habit, in order to embrace the ?aine
institute. He remained with the Saint about two
months, making it his study to observe and learn per
fectly the whole order and method of his life ;- his
86 ST. HILARION.
continual prayer his humility his charity his mor
tification and all his other virtues. Then returning
J3
into his own country with some other religious men,
and finding that his parents were dead, he distributed
his whole substance between his brethren and the
poor, without reserving anything for himself, bearing
in mind that saying of our Lord : He that doth not
renounce all that he posscsseth, cannot be my disciple,
Luke xiv. 33. Thus stript of the world, and armed
with Christ, being only in his sixteenth year, he took
the resolution of retiring into the wilderness (which
lies on the left of the road that leads from Gaza into
Egypt), without apprehending the dangers which his
worldy friends objected, from the robberies and mur
ders for which that place was infamous ; but rather
despising a temporal death, that he might escape that
which is eternal ; nor regarding the tenderness of his
own constitution, which made him very sensible of
cold, heat, and other injuries of the weather, and of
Uje. hardships and austerities that are incident to that
kind of life which he was going to undertake.
On going into the desert, he took no other clothing
with him than the frock of a peasant, a sackcloth and
hair-cloth, with a leathern habit to wear over it, which
St. Antony had given him. Here he built himself a
little hut, covered with sedges and rushes, to modify
the inclemency of the weather, which served him from
the sixteenth to the twentieth year of his age, and af-
ST. HILARIOX. 87
terwards in a cell, which, according to St. Jerome s
account, who had seen it, was but four feet wide, five
feet high, and in length but a little longer than his
body, so that as he could not stand in it upright, it
seemed rather a tomb for a dead corpse, than a dwell
ing for a living man. Here his diet was suitable to
his lodging : his food for the first years being but fif
teen dry figs in the day, and that not till after sunset.
Afterwards, from the twenty-first to the twenty-seventh
year of his age, he took only about eight or ten ounces
of lentiles, steeped in cold water, or a little dry bread,
with salt and water. For the space of three or four
years more, he lived upon nothing but the wild herbs,
or roots of the shrubs of the wilderness. From the
thirty-first till the thirty-fifth year of his age ho con
fined himself to six ounces of barley bread per day,
and a few pot-herbs without oil ; which rule he contin
ued to observe to his sixty-third year, when he began
to allow himself a little oil with his herbs, but tasted
nothing else, either of fruit or of pulse, or of any other
kind of food. From that time, as he now supposed
that by course of nature he could not have long to
live, instead of relaxing in his austerities, he redoubled
them ; so that from the sixty-fourth year of his age
till his death, that is, till he was eighty years old, he
totally abstained from bread, and eat nothing, during
the forr and twenty hours, but a kind of m ,ss com
posed of meal and herbs, which served him both fo
88 ST. HILARION.
meat and drink : and this in so small a quantity, that
his whole daily sustenance did not weigh above five
ounces. Such was his austerity, with respect to his
food, that, throughout these different periods Df life, he
ever observed it as a constant rule, never to eat or
drink till after sun-set, how weak soever his health
might be, not even on the greatest solemnities.
Hilarion had no sooner, in imitation of his great
model and master St. Antony, entered upon this course
of life in a vast and frightful desert, where no man
before had ventured to dwell, and, like him, applied
himself incessantly to God in prayer, than the devil,
not bearing to see himself thus trodden under foot by
a young man, began to assault him with violent tempt
ations of the flesh, filling his mind with impure imag
inations, and inciting him by sensual allurements, to
carnal pleasures, of which before he had no concep
tion. The chaste youth perfectly abhorred himself,
when he perceived these abominable emotions to lust
in his body and mind. He struck his breast, as if he
meant by this exterior violence to put those lewd sug
gestions to flight: he condemned himself to longer,
and still more rigorous fasts and hard labor, saying
thus to himself : " thou little jack -ass, I will teach thee
to kick ; instead of corn thou shalt feed only on
straw ; I will tame thy courage with hunger and
thirst : I will lay heavy burthens upon thee : I will
make thee work both iii summer and winter, that in
8T. HILARION. 89
stead of wanton pleasures thou mayest think of thy
meat." The Saint was steadfast in his resolution :
fasting without intermission, sometimes for three or
four days together, and then taking only a little juice
of herbs and a few figs for his meal : incessantly pray
ing, singing psalms, and working at the same time,
either in digging the earth or in making baskets, till
at length, by these exercises, he reduced his body to
a mere skeleton. Wherefore the enemy perceiving he
could not prevail this way, began to trouble him with
fantastic apparitions and other temptations. One
eight he was on a sudden surprised with hearing the
crying as it were of children, the bleating of sheep,
the bellowing of oxen, the lamentations of women,
the roaring of lions, and the confused noise of an
army of barbarians, with strange and frightful voices.
Suspecting them to be nothing but diabolical illusions,
he armed himself with the sign of the cross, and with
a lively faith, cast himself down upon the ground, to
be the better enabled, in this humble posture, to en
counter the proud enemy. Then looking forward, it
being a clear moon-light night, he perceived, as it
were, a coach, drawn by furious horses, coming with a
violent gallop towards him : at the sight of which he
called upon the name of Jesus, when behold on a
sudden the whole fantastic scene sunk down iuto the
earth before his eyes : upon which he burst forth the
praises of his Deliverer. At several other times this
90 ST. HILARION.
indefatigable enemy sought various ways, both by day
and night, to molest him : either by exhibiting naked
figures to excite him to concupiscence, or by seeking
to interrupt his devotion and distract him at prayer by
a variety of either comic or tragic scenes : but riono
of these, or any other of his attempts, were able to
shake the resolution of the servant of God, or prevent
his perpetual application to the love and service of his
Maker. One day whilst he was praying with his head
fixed on the ground, it happened that his mind wan
dered on some other thoughts, the watchful enemy,
taking advantage of this distraction, jumped upon his
back, as if to ride upon him ; and whipping and spur
ring, cried out : " "What, art thou asleep ? Thou a
saint ! come shall I give thee some provender ? " But
this, like the rest of his vain efforts, only served to
excite the Saint to still more vigilance and fervor.
About the eighteenth year of his age, the robbers
that frequented the desert, took it in their heads to
pay him a visit ; expecting either to find something
in his hut to take away, or looking upon it as a rash
attempt in a single boy to venture to dwell alone in
their dominions, and not be afraid of them. They
therefore began their search after him in the evening,
and continued it till the sun-rising, without being able
to find his lodging: but meeting him at day-light,
they asked him as it were in jest, " what he would do
if he were visited by robbers ? " " Oh I " said he, " *o
8T. HILARIO?:. 91
that has nothing to lose fears no robbers." " Bat,"
said they, "perhaps they may kill thee." "True,"
said he, " but I do not dread death : and therefore am
not afraid of them, because I am prepared to die."
Amazed at his constancy and faith, they acknowledged
that having sought him during the night, they were
so blinded as not to be able to find him; and so
deeply were they affected with his words, that they
promised to amend their lives.
Hilarion had now spent twenty-two years in perfect
solitude in the wilderness, conversing only with God
and his angels, and only known to the world by the
fame of his sanctity, which was spread over all Pales
tine, when a certain woman of the city of Eleuthero-
polis, who had lived fifteen years in the state of wed
lock without bearing a child, finding herself despised
by her husband on account of her barrenness, ventured
to break in upon his solitude ; and coming unexpect
edly upon him, cast herself upon her knees before him,
saying : " Pardon my boldness ; pity my distress :
why do you turn away your eyes from me 1 Why
do you flee from your petitioner ? Do not look at me
as a woman, but as a distressed fellow-creature. Re
member that a womat brought forth the Saviour of
the world : those that are well stand not in need of a
physician, but they that are ill." At these words ho
stood still ; and having learnt of her, the first womaia
he had seen since his retiring into the deser*, tha
02 ST. HILARION.
cause of her grief, he lifted up his eyes towards hea
ven, bid her be of good heart, and weeping for her,
sent her away ; but behold, within a twelvemonth she
returned, bringing her son with her to visit him.
This, his first miracle, was followed by a greater.
When Aristeneta, the wife of Elpidius, a Christian no
bleman (who was afterwards advanced to one of the
first posts in the empire), was on her return from
Egypt, where she had been, with her husband and her
three sons, to see St. Antony ; she stopped at Gaza on
account of the illness of her children, who were all
seized by a semitertian fever, and brought so low that
their lives were despaired of by the physicians. The
disconsolate mother, hearing of the sanctity of Hila-
rion, whose wilderness was not far distant from Gaza,
went in haste to visit him, accompanied by some of
her servants, and thus addressed herself to him : " I
beg of thee for God s sake : for the sake of Jesus our
most merciful God ; through his cross and his blood ;
that thou wouldst vouchsafe to come and restore
health to my three sons, that the name of the Lord
our Saviour may be glorified in that pagan city : that
when his servant comes into Gaza, Manias (the idol
which they there worship) may fall to the ground."
The man of God excused himself, alledging, that he
rever went out of his cell, not so much as into any
village, much less into a populous city ; but she, caste
ing herself down upon the ground, ceased not to im
ST. HILARION. 93
portime him with many tears ; often crying out, " O
Hilarion ! thou blessed servant of God, restore to me
my sons : Antony has laid his hands upon them in
Egypt, but do thou save their lives in Syria." Her
earnest entreaties at length obliged him to promise
her that he would come to Gaza after sun-set. No
sooner had he arrived at their lodgings, and seen them
confined to their beds in burning fevers, bereft of sense,
than he called upon our Lord Jesus, when immedi
ately a copious sweat, issuing as it were from three
fountains, followed his prayer, and in the space of an
hour they took their meat, knew their mournful mo
ther, blessed God, and kissed the hands of the Saint
No sooner was this miracle published abroad, than
multitudes of the inhabitants of both Syria and Egypt
began to visit him. Many infidels were by his means
converted to the faith of Christ, and many also, by his
example, embraced a monastic life ; for, before his
time, there were neither monks nor monasteries in
Palestine or Syria : he must therefore be considerec
the father, founder, and first teacher of the monastic
institute in those provinces. And now it was that he
began to be joined by many disciples, whom he train
ed up to religious perfection, who were witnesses of the
wonderful miracles that God wrought by him. St.
Jerome, as one perfectly well informed, has recorded
several of the most remarkable, with all their circum
stances, A woman of the neighborhood of lihinoco-
94 ST. HILARION.
rura (a city on the confines of Egypt,) who had been
blind for ten years, was brought to the Saint to be
healed : after having told him that she had expended
her whole substance on physicians, " you had done
better (said he) if you had given it to the poor ; you
would then have given it to Jesus Christ, the true
physician, who would have healed you." She earn
estly begged that he would have pity on her ; and
he, with spitting on her eyes, restored her to her sight.
A charioteer of Gaza was also brought to him on his
bed, struck in such a manner by the devil, that he
could not stir any of the members of his body except
his tongue, with which he besought the servant of
God to heal him. The Saint told him, that if he de
sired to be healed, he must first believe in Jesus Christ,
and promise to renounce a profession which exposed
him to the immediate occasion of sin. To these con
ditions he agreed, and having received his cure, he
returned home, rejoicing more for the health of his
soul, than for that of his body.
Marsitas, a young man of the territory of Jerusalem,
of an extraordinary bulk and strength, who had been
possessed by an evil spirit, and done much mischief to
many, was dragged by ropes to the cell of the servant
of God, like a mad bull bound in chains. The breth
ren at the very sight of him were affrighted, but the
faint bid the people bring him up and let him loose ;
which when they had done, he commanded him to
ST. HILARION. 95
Dend down his head and come to him. The poor
man trembling bent his neck, when laying aside all
his fierceness, and falling down he licked the feet of
the man of God ; and after seven days exorcisms was
entirely cured. Another man, named Orion, a princi
pal citizen of Aila, a city near the Red Sea, who waa
possessed by a whole legion of devils, was* brought in
like manner loaded with chains to the Saint, who hap
pened at that time to be walking with his disciples,
and interpreting to them some passages of the Scrip
ture : when behold the possessed man broke loose
from those that held him, and running up to the man
of God, whose back was turned towards him, lifted him
up from the ground on high in his arms : at which all
that were present cried out, apprehending that lie
would do the Saint some mischief; but Hilarion said,
Broiling, "suffer me to wrestle with my antagonist."
Then putting back his hand, he laid hold on the hair
of Orion, and bringing him before his feet, kept him
down howling, and turning back his neck, so as to
touch the ground with the top of his head. Then
praying, he said : " O Lord Jesus, I am a poor wretch ;
do thou release this captive ; thou canst as easily over-
xrnie many as one." On this occasion they were all
astonished to hear so many different voices issuing
from the mouth of the possessed person, and a con-
fased out-cry, as it were of a whole people : but their
vender ceased when they saw the multitude of wicked
96 ST. HILARION.
spirits that was expelled from him :>y the prayers of
the humble servant of God. Orion came shortly after
wards with his wife and children to return thanks to
the Saint, and brought him large pre^e -ts out of gra
titude, which he absolutely refused to accept : but
when he besought him with tears to take at least what
C3
he had brought, and to give it to the poor, he an
swered ; " thou canst better distribute thyself what
thou wouldst have to be given to the poor ; for thou
frequentest cities, and knowest the poor ; why should
I, who have left my own, covet the goods of others ?
Many have been imposed upon by avarice, under the
name of the poor. Do not make thyself uneasy ; it is
for both thy sake and mine I refuse thy presents : for
if I should accept of them, I should offend God, and
the legion of devils would return to thee."
One Italicus, a Christian of Mamma, the haven of
Gaza, who bred horses for the public races that were
to be exhibited at Gaza, came to the Saint to beg his
prayers against the enchantments wherewith his pagan
antagonist, one of the magistrates of the city, had be
witched his horses. Hilarion, who disliked all these
public games, was unwilling to employ his prayers on
so vain an occasion. But the other representing to
him that it was not by his own choice, but by his
office, he was obliged to do what he did ; and that
the honor of God and religion was here at stake, be
cause the men of Gaza, who, for the most part, were
ST. HILARIOtf. 97
infidels, would take occasion, from bis being worsted,
to insult., not so much over him as over the church
of Christ : the Saint, at the request of the brethren,
ordered his earthen pot, in which he used to drink, to
be filled with water, and given to him. Italicus took
the water, and with it sprinkled his stable, his horses,
his chariot, and his drivers, in the sight of the pagans,
who made a jest of it, whilst the Christians, confiding
in the prayers of the Saint, made no doubt of success.
Wherefore, as soon as the signal was given, the horses
of Italicus sprung forth with incredible speed, whilst
those of his adversary were presently distanced, and
could scarce keep within sight of them that were gone
before. Upon this a loud cry of all the people were
immediately raised, and even the very adversaries
cried out, that Marna,s, the God of Gaza, was worsted
by Christ. This miracle gave occasion to the conver
sion of many.
There was also in the same town of Maiuma, a vir
gin dedicated to God, with whom a young man in the
neighborhood was vehemently in love. After having
employed, without success, flattering speeches, idle
jokes, and other freedoms, which too often pave the
way to greater crimes, he went to Memphis in Egypt,
to seek a remedy for his wound from the priests of
Esculapius. They furnished him with certain magical
spells and monstrous figures, graven upon a plate of
copper, which he buried under the threshold of the
98 ST. HILAR1ON.
house where the i.iaid dwelt, when behold immediately
(in punishment of her having laid herself too open to
the enemy, by not flying, as she ought, or not resist
ing former freedoms) the maid ran mad with love,
tearing off her head clothes, whirling about her hair,
gnashing with her teeth, and calling upon the name
of the young man. Her parents, therefore, took her
to St. Hilarion, when presently it appeared how the
case stood ; for the devil began to howl within her,
and to cry out : " I was forced in hither ; I was brought
from Memphis against my will : where I succeeded
well, in deluding men with dreams. But, oh ! what
torments dost thou make me suffer here ! Thou com-
pellest me to depart, but behold I am bound fast, and
kept in by the thread and plate that lie under the
threshold. I cannot go out till the young man who
keeps me here, lets me go." " Thou art very strong
indeed ! " said the Saint, " if thou art held by a thread
and a plate. But tell me, how didst thou dare to
enter into a maid dedicated to God ! " " It was," said
he, " to preserve her virginity." " What ! thou pre
serve her virginity," said the Saint, "who art the
mortal enemy of chastity. Why didst thou not rather
enter into him that sent thee ? " " Oh," said the devil,
u there was no necessity for my entering into him, who
was already possessed by my comrade, the demon of
wanton love." The Saint would hear no more, nor
send for the young min, not order the things men-
ST. HIL.IRION.
tioned to be taken away, to show the little regard that
is to be had to the devil s speeches or signs, but in
stantly delivered the maid from her wicked guest, and
sent her away perfectly cured, after severely reprehend
ing her for admitting of those liberties which had given
the devil the power to possess her.
It would be endless to recount all the other mira
cles that God wrought by this Saint, which rendered
his name illustrious, even in the most remote provinces.
St. Antony himself, hearing of his life and conversa
tion, wrote to him, and gladly received letters from
him ; and when any diseased came to him for their
cure from any part of Syria, he blamed them for giv
ing themselves the trouble to come so far, since you
have, said he, in those parts my son Hilarion. His
bright example attracted great numbers to the ser
vice of God, so that now there were innumerable mon
asteries, or cells of religious, throughout Palestine,
who all looked upon him as their father, and resorted
to him for then- direction. These he exhorted to at
tend to their spiritual progress ; ever reminding them,
44 that the figure of this world passeth away, and that
eternal life can only be purchased by parting with the
pleasures and affections of this life." He visited all
their monasteries once a year for their instri ction and
edification : and such was his diligence and charity on
these occasions, that he would not pass by the cell of
the icast or meanest of the brethren without calling
TOO PT. IIILARION.
in to instruct and console him, insomuch that ho went
as far as the desert of Kadesli, on purpose to visit one
single monk who dwelt there. In this journey he
was accompanied by a great number of his disciples
into the city of Elusa, on the confines of the Saracens,
on a festival day, when the people were all assembled
in the temple of Venus, who was there worshipped
by the Saracens on account of the star that bears her
name. No sooner had they heard that Hilarion, of
whose sanctity and miracles they had been previously
informed by several of their nation whom he had de
livered from evil spirits, was passing by, but all the
men, women, and children ran out in crowds to meet
him and to beg his blessing. The Saint received
them all with the utmost tenderness and humility, and
begged that they would henceforth worship the living
God, rather than stocks and stones : shedding at the
same time many tears, and looking up towards heaven,
he promised, if they would believe in Christ, that he
would frequently come to see them. So wonderful
was the grace that accompanied the words and pray
ers of the man of God, that they would not suffer
him to quit their city, till he had first marked out a
plot of ground for the building of a church ; nay,
their very priest had received the sign of the cross of
Christ, in order to his baptism.
Another year, when the Saint was making his visit
ation, a little before the time of the vintage, he cam<
ST. HILARIOX. 101
with all his companions to the monastery of one of the
brethren, who was remarkable for being a niggardly
miser. This man had a vineyard, and apprehending
lest the multitude of the monks that accompanied the
Sain 1 should eat up his grapes, he set several men to
keep them off with stones and clods in slings, and
would not so much as let them taste of them. The
servant of God smiled at the treatment they had met
with, but taking no notice of it to the niggard, he
went on the next day to another monastery, where he
and his whole company were kindly received by a
monk named Sabas, who kindly invited them (it being
the Lord s day,) to go and feast themselves in his
vineyard. The Saint ordered that they should first
take the food of their souls, by applying themselves to
their religious exercises of prayer, singing psalms, and
paying their duty to God : and then after giving them
his blessing, he sent the whole multitude of his disci
ples to the vineyard to take their corporal refection.
The blessing of the man of God was attended with so
miraculous an effect, that whereas the vineyard of Sa
bas was not before thought capable of yielding more
than a hundred gallons of wine, it yielded that yeai
three hundred, whilst the vineyard of the niggard
yielded much less than usual, and the little that it
produced turned into vinegar, a circumstance which
the man of God had foretold. Hilarion could never
endure in religious men any thing that looked like
102 ST. HILARION.
covetousness, or too great an affection to any of these
things that pass away with this transitory world : he
was moreover endowed by God with the gift of dis
covering who were addicted to this, that, or any other
kind of vice, by the stench that proceeded from their
bodies or garments.
And now the Saint, seeing that his hermitage was
converted into a great monastery, ana chat the wilder
ness about him was continually crowded with the
people who resorted thither, bringing their diseased,
or such as were possessed with unclean spirits, and that
not only the common sort of people from all the neigh
boring provinces, but even the gentry, ladies of the
first rank, clerks, monks, priests, and bishops, were
daily visiting him, and interrupting his devotions, he
bitterly regretted the loss of his former solitude, per
petually lamenting, weeping, and saying, that since he
had returned back into the world, he apprehended he
should have his reward in this life, because all Pales
tine and the neighboring provinces took him to be
somebody, <fec., nor did he cease to mourn and bewail
his condition, till he took a fixed resolution to quit his
monastery, and retire into some place where he might
be unknown, and more freely enjoy his God without
the interruption of so many visits. In the mean time,
whilst he was meditating upon his flight, the lady
Aristeneta, whose three sons he had cured, came to
aee him, acquainting him with her design of returning
ST. HIL^RION. 10S
into Egypt, to make a second visit to St. Antony. Ha
replied, with tears in his eyes, that he could have wish
ed to have taken the same journey, if he were not
kept prisoner in his monastery, but that it was now
f oo late to find Antony alive ; for, said he, two days
go the world was deprived of so great a father.
Having believed him, she did not proceed in her jour
ney, and, behold, after some days the news of his
death was brought from Egypt. When it was known
abroad that the man of God was upon the point oi
quitting Palestine, the whole province took the alarm,
and no less than ten thousand people, of all degrees
and conditions, were gathered together, in order to
stop and detain him. But his resolution was not to
be altered ; and as he had learnt by revelation the
havock that the infidels of Gaza were about to make
in his monastery, and all through that neighborhood,
under the reign of Julian the Apostate, he gave them
broad hints of this his fore-knowledge, saying, that he
could not call in question the truth of what God had
said ; nor could he endure to see the churches des
troyed, the altars of Christ trodden under foot, and
his children massacred. In short, he assured them be
would neither eat nor drink till they let him go.
And thus, after he had fasted seven days, they wer<3
contented at last to sufter him depart, accompanied by
about forty of his monks. With these he made the
best of his way it Pelusium, (now called Damietta) in
104 ST. HILARION.
Egypt, and after visiting the holy solitaries who lived
in the neighboring deserts, he waited upon Dracontius
and Philo ; two illustrious confessors of Christ, of the
number of .those catholic prelates who had been ban
ished from their sees by the fury of the Arians, under
the emperor Constantius. After paying these visits,
he hastened to keep the anniversary day of the happy
decease of St. Antony in the place where he died:
and being conducted by the deacon Baisanes, upon
dromedaries, three days journey through that vast and
dreary wilderness, he arrived at length at the moun
tain of the Saint. Here he found his two disciples,
who showed him all the places where their master had
been accustomed to sing psalms to pray to work
and sit down to rest himself, after being wearied with
his labor ; as also the garden he had cultivated the
trees he had planted the instrument with which he
had dug the earth the private cells to which he often
retired towards the top of the mountain, &c. and then
agreeably entertained him with divers particulars of
the acts of the latter part of St. Antony s life. Hila-
rion was much moved to devotion with the sight and
recital of all this ; and after watching in prayer the
whole night of the anniversary of the Saint, he return
ed the same way he came, through the dreary wilder
ness to the neighborhood of the town called Aphrodi-
Ion. Here, in an adjoining desert, with two of his
disciples whom he kept with him, he led so abste-
ST. HILARIOK. lOJf
mious, abstracted, and silent a life, that on feeling the
fervor he now found within himself, he seemed never
to have before begun to serve Christ in earnest.
He had not been above two years in this wilder
ness, when the fame of his sanctity brought all the
people of the neighboring country to him, to beg his
prayers for rain. For from the time of the death of
St. Antony, no rain had fallen upon their land for the
space of three whole years, so that being afflicted with
a great famine, they resorted to him, whom they con
sidered as the successor of St. Antony, for a redress of
their misery. Moved to pity by the sight of their dis
tress, he lifted up his hands and eyes to heaven to pray
for them, and his prayer was immediately followed by
plentiful rains. But the rains, whilst they fertilized
the earth, having, in falling on the dry, hot sand, also
produced an incredible multitude of venomous reptiles
and insects, with which innumerable persons were
struck, they were again forced to have recourse to the
Saint, who gave them some oil which he had blessed,
with which they were cured. But now finding him
self after these miracles greatly honored, he would stay
no longer in this place, but departed in order to go and
hide himself in the desert of Oasis. In his way thither
he passed through Alexandria : and as he made it a
rule never to lodge in any city, he went on to a place
in the neighborhood, called Bruchium, where there
was a monastery of the servants of God. From hence,
106 ST. HILARION.
when night drew on, he hastened away, telling the
brethren, who were greatly afflicted, that they should
soon know the reason of his sudden departure. Ac
cordingly, on the next day their monastery was
searched by the Gazites, accompanied by officers sent
from the governor of Alexandria to apprehend Hila-
rion, of whose arrival there they had received intelli
gence. For the infidels of Gaza, who bore a mortal
hatred to the Saint, as soon as Julian came to the em
pire, destroyed his monastery, and obtained an edict
from the tyrant, that both he, and his disciple Hesy-
chius, should be sought for and put to death wherever
they were found. Of this the Saint had a fore-know
ledge by prophetic light, and thereupon withdrew
himself : so that the infidels, who had thought them
selves certain of seizing their priest, finding he was
gone, departed, saying to each other, that now the^
were sure he was a magician, and had a foresight of
things to come.
He had not been a year in the wilderness of Oasis,
before he found that fame had also followed him
thither ; and therefore now despairing to be able to
conceal himself upon the continent, he formed a reso
lution of seeking out a place in some of the islands
of the Mediterranean, where he might hide himself.
In order to this he embarked, with one only disciple,
at Paretonium, a haven on the coast of Lybia, on
board a vessel bound for Sicily ; hoping that hence-
ST. HILARION. 107
forward no one should know him, or become trouble-
some to him in his retirement. When, behold, in the
midst of the voyage the son of the master of the ship,
or rather the devil by his mouth, cried out : " Hila-
rion, thou servant of God, let me alone, at least till we
come to land ; how comes it to pass, that even at sea
thou art still persecuting us." The Saint would hare
disguised the grace which God had given him, fearing
lest the sailors and passengers should publish his fame
when they came to land, and therefore mildly replied :
" If my God permits thee to stay, stay if thou wilt ;
but if he cast thee out, /vhat hast thou to do to com
plain of me, who am bur. a poor beggar and a sinful
man." However, v.pon the solemn promise of the
father, and of all the rest, that they would not discover
him, he cast the devil out of the boy. Wben they
arrived at Pachynum (now Capo Passaro), he would
have paid for the passage of himself and his compan
ion, by gHng the captain the book of the Gospels,
which was all his wealth, but he, seeing their poverty,
would not receive it. Wherefore the Saint leaving the
sea-coast, withdrew himself into a little kind of wilder
ness, about twenty miles within the land, and there
fixed his abode ; living upon what little he could get,
by making up faggots, which his companion carried to
a neighboring village, bringing from thence in exchange
*riat they stood need of for their food.
But the Saint could not long lie concealed here ; foi
108 ST. HILARION.
soon after his arrival, a man possessed with an evil spirit,
being under the exorcisms of the Church at St. Peter s
in Eome, the devil cried out thus by his mouth:
" Hilarion, the servant of Christ, is some days since
come into Sicily, where no man knows him, and he
thinks himself secret : but I will go and discover him."
This man therefore taking some of his servants with
him, and going on board a ship sailed immediately
for Sicily ; and after coming to shore, being conducted
by the devil, he went straight to the hut of the ser
vant of God, and there casting himself at his feet, was
perfectly cured. This being noised abroad, great mul
titudes, who labored under various corporeal diseases,
resorted to him to obtain their cure ; whilst numbers
also of devout and religious people applied to him for
their spiritual profit. Amongst the rest, he cured
upon the spot one of the principal men of the island,
who was swollen up with the dropsy, and who on the
same day, returned home in perfect health. This man
offered to make him considerable presents, which the
Saint absolutely refused, al lodging the precept of our
Saviour, Matt. x. 8. Gratis you have received, gratis
give: which rule he invariably observed in all the
other innumerable miracles which he wrought, whether
in Sicily or elsewhere, for, he never would receive any
thing, no not &o much as a morsel of bread from any
one of those on whom he had wrought those miracles.
And now his beloved disciple Hesychius, after hav-
ST. HILARION. 109
ing sought after him in vain through many different
regions came at length to Sicily, upon the report he
had heard at Modon in Greece, from a Jewish pedlar,
that a Christian prophet had appeared in Sicily, who
wrought all kinds of wonderful miracles. No sooner
had he found him than the Saint gave him to under
stand, that he wanted to depart from Sicily into some
strange country where he might be utterly unknown.
Wherefore, in compliance with his desire, he conveyed
him away by a ship to the coast of Dalmatia, where
for a short time he led a solitary life, not far from the
city of Epidaurus, now called Ragusa. But neither
here could he remain long concealed, his miracles every
where betraying him. There was at that time, in the
neighborhood of Epidaurus, a monstrous serpent, of
that species named boas, which did great, mischief in
destroying both men and cattle; the Saint, ; to put a
stop to this calamity ordered the country, people to
heap up a pile of wood, and after addressing a prayer
to Christ he called the serpent out, of hi$ ,.den, and
tommanded him to go on the top of the, pile, pf wood,
and then setting fire to it, hei bu-rnt the^ monster in
sight of a great multitude of people. This miracle
was followed by another still greater. About this
time, viz. the second year of the reign of Valentinian
the first, there happened so remarkable an earthquake
that, according to Amianus, a cotemporary historian,
its like was never recorded, either in authentic or fab-
10
HO ST. HILAR1ON.
u ous history. On this occasion, the swelling seas, in
several places, broke in arid overflowed the land in
such a manner as to threaten the earth with a second
deluge, and in some places the waves ran so high as
to carry the shirs along with them, and leave them
hanging on the cliffs. The Epidaurians perceiving the
danger in which their city as well as many others
were in of being destroyed, had recourse to Hilarion,
and opposed him to the mountains of water that were
just upon the point of overwhelming them. No
sooner had the Saint made three crosses on the sand,
and lifted up his arms to heaven, than the swelling
waves, though they raged, foamed, and rose up to an
incredible height, not able to advance, gradually re
turned back again and subsided. This wonder, says
St. Jerome, who was then a boy in the same province,
the city of Epidaurus, as well as the whole country,
recount to this day the mothers relate it to their
children, in order to transmit the memory of it fo
posterity.
The applause that followed these miracles would
not suffer the humble servant of Christ to remain any
longer in Dalmatia ; therefore taking boat privately by
night he fled away, and within two days found a ship
departing for Cyprus, on which he embarked. In this
voyage his ship being pursued by some pirates in two
light vessels, there appeared no hopes of escaping
them. The ship s crew being in the utmost conster-
ST. HILARION. Ill
nation, the Saint turning to his disciples said : " Why
are you afraid, O ye of little faith? " And wlen the
pirates were now come within a stone s cast of the
ship, he stood on the fore-deck, and stretching out
his hand to them, he said : " You have come far
enough / " when behold immediately their vessels fell
back, and the more they tugged and rowed, in order
to push forward towards their expected prey, the more
rapidly were they carried away from it. The Saint land-
id at Paphos, a noted city of Cyprus, and chose him
self a dwelling place about two miles from thence ;
being now wonderfully pleased that he had found rest,
at least for a short time, in this solitude ; but scarcely
had twenty days elapsed when the devils in different
parts of the island published his arrival by the mouths
of those that were possessed ; and several of these,
both men and women, hastened to him and were de
livered. Here he remained about two years meditat
ing upon some private place of retirement. In the
mean time he sent Hesychius into Palestine, to salute
the brethren there, and to visit the ashes of his mon
astery ; and upon his return proposed that they should
sail into Egypt, and advance a great way into the
country, to some place, inhabited only by pagans. But
Hesychius opposed thio ; and after a long search, dis
covered a place in the island about twelve miles dis
tant from the sea, amongst mountains and woods that
were almost inaccessible, which proved quite to his
112 ST. HILARION.
mind. In this solitude, to which no one could arrive
in several places but by creeping on hands and knees,
they found springs of water on the sides of the hills,
a little garden within, with several fruit trees, of which
however the Saint would never eat, and near the gar
den the ruins of an ancient templs, from whence, as
both he and his disciples related, were often heard, both
night and day, a great noise, like the voices of a whole
army of devils. In this solitary abode the man of
God dwelt for the last five years of his mortal life> sel
dom visited by any one but Hesychius, on account of
the difficulty of coming at his dwelling, as also because
the people were persuaded that the neighborhood was
haunted with a multitude of demons. However, there
were some that ventured to come to him for the cure
of their maladies ; their necessities overcoming all dif
ficulties, especially after it was known, that he had
cured upon the spot, the bailiff of the place of a palsy,
which had deprived him of the use of his limbs, by
only stretching out his hand to him, and lifting him
up with these words : In the name of the Lord Jesus
Christ, rise up and walk.
But now the time arrived which was to put a period
to all the labors of his mortal pilgrimage, and unite
him eternally to his God, when being now eighty years
old he was seized with his last illness. Although
Hvsychius was then absent, he nevertheless bequeath
ed to him by will all he had, viz. his book of the gos-
ST. HILARIOX. 113
pels, his sackcloth, cowl, and habit. Many religious
men from Paphos came tc attend him in his sickness,
who had heard of his having said, " that he was now
going to our Lord;" and with them a holy woman
named Constantia, whose daughter and son-in-law he
had delivered from death by anointing them with oil.
And now he was drawing near his end, when in the
very agony of death he distinctly spoke these words :
" Go forth my soul : what art thou afraid of? Go
forth, why art thou at a stand ? Thou hast served
Christ almost seventy years, and art thou afraid to
die ? " and with these words he gave up the ghost.
He was immediately buried as he had desired, in the
same place : where the devout lady Constantia fre
quently passed whole nights in prayer at his sepulchre,
speaking with him as if he were alive, and desiring
the assistance of his prayers. His disciple Hesychius,
after ten months, privately conveyed his body away to
Palestine, where it was solemnly interred in his own
monastery; at which time it was found entirely incor
rupt, and sending forth a most fragrant odor. Many
great miracles were daily wrought through his inter
cession, even to the time when St. Jerome published
his life, as well at his sepulchre in Palestine, as at tha
place where he was first buried in Cyprus.
114 ST. MALCHU8*
ST. MALCHUS.
Abridged frora St. Jerome.
WHILST St. Jerome in his younger days made some
stay at Maronia, a village of Syria, about thirty miles
distant from Antioch, he learnt that there dwelt in
that neighborhood a religious man, now advanced in
years, whose name was Malchus, and near him a de
crepit old woman, both eminent servants of God, con
stant in the church, and wholly addicted to the exer
cises of religion : of whom the neighbors published
wonderful things and extolled their sanctity to the
skies, which gave occasion to St. Jerome, in order to
his own justification, to visit that holy man, and to
learn from his own mouth the particulars of his histo
ry ; which he afterwards published to the world in a
small book, of which the following is an abstract.
Malchus was a native of the territory of Nisibis, a
city of Mesopotamia, upon the confines of the Roman
and Persian empires. Being the only child of his pa
rents they looked upon him as the heir and support
of their family, and therefore, when he was grown up,
they pressed him to marry ; but declaring himself
quite averse to this state of life, he made known to
them his desire of entering into religion, and of wholly
dedicating himself to God. But as they ceased not
ST. MALCHUS. 115
t-till to importune him, both with flatteries and threats
to part with the treasure of his virginal purity, which
he valued above all the possessions of the world, in
order to rid himself of their importunities, and to se
cure his treasure, he took a resolution to withdraw
himself entirely from house and home, parents and
country. Accordingly, taking a trifling matter with
him for his journey, he travelled westward, till at
length he arrived at the desert of Chalcis in Syria.
Here he found some servants of God leading a mo
nastic life, and put himself under their direction, fol
lowing the same institute as they did, living by the
labor of his hands, and restraining the rebellions of
flesh by rigorous fasting. In this course of life he con
tinued for many years, till the common enemy, envy
ing the progress he made in virtue, suggested to him,
under specious pretexts, to leave the monastery, and
to return to his own country to see whether his mother
were yet alive (for he had heard of his father s death),
and if she were, to comfort her in her widowhood, and
after her decease to sell the estate, distribute part of
the money to the poor, employ another part in build
ing a monastery, and to reserve what remained for his
own use ; a design which he afterwards lamented, as
a grievous transgression and infidelity to his religious
engagements,
His Abbot was no sooner informed of his purposes,
cban he remonstrated with him, in the strongest terms.
116 ST. MALCHUS.
that the whole was a temptation of the devil, who, by
such plausible pretences as these, had oftentimes im
posed upon religious men, and drawn them back again
into the world ; alledging also several examples from
Scripture, of the wiles and impostures of this wicked
old serpent. When the abbot saw r that his remon
strances were not hearkened to, he even cast himself
down upon his knees, and earnestly entreated his dis
ciple not to abandon him, nor fling himself away, nor
to look back after setting his hand to the plough.
But all in vain : Malchus imagined that his superior,
in seeking to detain him, had more an eye to his own
comfort and satisfaction, than to his advantage, and
therefore would not be diverted from his design.
When he set out upon his journey, his abbot follow
ed him out of the monastery, bewailing him, as if he
had been following his corpse to the grave ; and at
their last parting told him plainly, that the sheep
which had left the fold must expect nothing but to
fail an immediate prey to the wolves.
In his journey he was to go from Beroea to Edessa,
by a road which borders upon an extensive wilderness,
much infested by parties of the Saracens or Arabians,
who ro\bed or carried off all they met with. This
obliged the travellers who passed that way, to travel
in large companies for their mutual defence ; and it
happened that there were at this time no less than
about three-score and ten persons in company with
ST. MALCHUS. 117
Malchus, young and old, men and women. But this
precaution could not secure the fugitive, who was run
ning away from his Lord, from being overtaken, or
from meeting with captivity and slavery, instead of
the possessions to which he imagined himself return
ing. For behold a party of armed Saracens, some on
horseback, others upon camels rushed suddenly upon
them, made them prisoners, and then, by lot, divided
their captives amongst them. Malchus happened to
fall into the hands of the same master with a married
woman, one of the company, whose husband fell to
the lot of another : and both he, and the rest of the
prisoners, now slaves, being set upon camels, were car
ried for many days through an immense wilderness,
living in the mean time upon meat half raw and cam
els milk ; till having passed over a great river, they
came into the heart of the country. Here Malchus
and his fellow captive were brought in, and being pre
sented to their master s wife, were obliged, according
to the manner of the custom of the country, to pros
trate themselves and do reverence to their new mis
tress and her children. And now, instead of his mo
nastic habit, or any other clothing, Malchus is obliged
to go naked, as well on account of his condition of a
slave, as by the violent heat reflected bv the sun-beams
on those Arabian sands, which would not suffer him
to wear any other covering than what modesty indis
pensably required. His office was to tend his mas-
118 ST. MALCHUS.
ter s sheep in the wilderness ; in which it was his
comfort to be generally alone, seldom seeing either
his master, or any of his fellow-servants. He pleased
himself also with the thought, that in his way of life
he resembled some of the ancient Saints who had in
like manner fed sheep in the wilderness. In the mean
time his whole diet was new cheese and milk, and his
whole employment continual prayer and singing of the
psalms which he had learnt by heart in the monastery.
He now became delighted with his captivity, and gave
thanks to God for the wonderful dispositions of his
merciful providence, in conducting him to find the
monk again in the land of his slavery, which he was
going to lose for ever in his own country.
The devil, who could not endure to be a witness to
the great advantages our captive made of his present
condition, by the help of his solitude, recollection, and
continual prayer, contrived a dangerous stratagem for
the robbing him at once both of his chastity and all
his other virtues, which he sought to bring about in
the following manner : The Saracen, finding that his
flock increased under the hands of Malchus, that he
served him honestly and with fidelity, took it into his
head, doubtless by the suggestion of the enemy, to re
ward him, and as it were, to fix him for ever in his
service, by giving him the same married woman for a
wife who was taken captive with him : this he pro
posed as an aci of friendship, or a favor which he was
ST. MALCHUS. 119
desirous to confer on him. But when Malchus re
plied that this could not be, because he was a Chris
tian, and therefore could not, by the law of God, marry
a woman whose husband was still living, the barba
rian, in a rage, drew his sword, and would have in
stantly killed him upon the spot, had he not hastened
to take his fellow-captive by the arm, which his mas
ter mistook for a token of his consent to the marriage.
When night arrived they went both together with a
heavy heart into a ruinous cave, which served Malchus
fot- his lodging, neither of them knowing the disposi
tions of the other. Here Malchus casting himself
upon the ground, grievously lamented his wretched
condition, that after having in his younger days for
saken all his worldly pretensions, together with his
country, parents, and estate, purely to preserve his vir
ginity, he should now in a more advanced age, lose it
in so illegal and wicked a manner : accusing himself
withal of his sins, especially of his crime in quitting
his monastery to return to his own country, to which
he imputed his being now caught in this labyrinth,
out of which he knew not how to extricate himself
but by death : and this he was strongly inclined to
choose, as the only means remaining, as he thought,
to preserve his virtue. His fellow-captive, perceiving
the excessive trouble and agitation of mind under
which he lay, and hearing him talk of making himself
a martyr of chastity, cast herself at his feet, and beg
120 ST. MALCHUSS
ged, for the sake of Jesus Christ, that he would not
think of doing himself any harm ; that, for her part,
she abhorred the proposed marriage as much as him
self, and would rather suffer death than consent to any
unchastity : but why may we not live together, said
she, as brother and sister, in perfect purity, whilst ou.
master and mistress take us for man and wife ? These
words calmed the soul of Malchus, and made him
esteem and admire the virtue of the woman, and love
her the more ; but, according to God, with a holy
friendship, cemented by heavenly charity.
Pursuant to this proposal, they lived a long time
together, in perfect chastity of mind and body, and
were beloved by their master and mistress, who enter
tained not the least suspicion, either of their not being
married, nor of any danger of their making their es
cape : so that Malchus was accustomed to be absent
with his flock for a whole month together in the wil
derness, at a great distance from his master s house.
One day, whilst he was sitting alone, he began to con
sider the great advantages of a spiritual life that are
found in well ordered religious communities : remem
bering in particular the helps and directions he had
/eceived from the good abbot, his ghostly father, and
regretted his leaving him : when behold, in the midst
of his meditation, he perceives at a little distance a
hillock of ants (a creature ] roposed to us by the wise
man as a pattern of industry and wisdom), and was
ST. MALOHUS. 121
pleased to see the order and harmony which they ob
served in their labors that mutual help which they
gave to each other, and how they ran to the assistance
of such as fell under their burthens. This seemed to
him a lively representation of a regular community ;
and joined to his foregoing considerations made him
begin to be weary of his captivity, and long to return
to his a&bot and his monastery. When he came
home at night, the woman perceived him to be pen
sive and melancholy, and having learnt the reason,
persuaded him to set off, offering at the same time to
accompany him. Having concluded upon so doing,
and watching a proper opportunity, he killed two large
goats of his flock, made vessels of their skins, and pre
pared part of the meat to support them during their
journey. On the next evening they set out, making
the best of their way to a river about ten miles dis
tant, which they crossed by the help of the vessels
they had made of the skins of the goats. In crossing
the river they lost some part of the meat they had
carried with them, so that what remained was scarce
sufficient to support them for three days, and as to
drink, th ey took plenty of water, not knowing when
they should meet with more.
They made what haste they possibly could through
the sandy deserts, looking back from time to time,
with fear and trembling, to see if any one were in pur
suit of them, travelling mostly by night, as well to
122 ST. MALCHUS.
avoid the meeting with any of the Saracen rovers, as
on account of the excessive heat. They had been no\v
three days upon their journey, when looking behind
them ; they saw at a distance two men riding on cam
els, and hastening towards them, one of whom they
concluded to be their master, who had discovered the
way they had gone by their tracks in the sands, and
now they expected nothing but certain death. There
happening to be a den or cave at hand that reached 3
considerable way under ground, they ran thither for
shelter ; but fearing the serpents and other venomous
creatures that usually resort to such places in order to
avoid the heat of the sun, they would not venture to
penetrate to the further end, lest in flying from death
i i one shape, they should meet it in another. Where-
f<. re discovering within, near the entrance of the den,
a hole on their left hand, into which they had no
so-jner trusted themselves, when behold their master,
with one of their fellow servants, tracing them by their
footsteps, quickly came up to the mouth of the cav
ern. The master having sent his servant in to drag
them out, stood without, holding the camels, and wait
ing for them with his drawn sword. The servant
passed bv the hole where they lay concealed, without
being able to see them, on account of his being just
come out of the light, and advancing forward made a
great uproar, crying aloud: "Come forward, ye vti
ST. MALCHUS. 123
tains and receive your wages: come out, your mastei
calls for you : come out, and die." Malchus and his
companion saw him pass by tbem, and looking after
him, perceived a lioness, roused by the noise, flying at
him, and strangling him, and then drawing his bloody
body further into the den. The master, ignorant of
what had happened, finding that the servant did not
come out, supposed that they, being two, might make
resistance against one. lie came therefore in a great
rage to the entrance of the ouve, with his sword in his
hand, and raving at the cowardice of his servant, bejjan
to enter in ; but before he had passed the lurking hole
where Malchus lay, he was suddenly seized by the
beast before their eyes, and served in the same man
ner as his servant had been. Thus by an extraordin
ary providence were these servants of God delivered
from the hands of those that sought their life : but
they remained still in dread lest they should meet
with no less cruel death from the furious beast that
was so near them. In this fear they remained close,
without making the least motion or noise, having no
other means of defence or dependence but the provi
dence of God, and a good conscience in point of chas
tity, which is respected even by lions. But it was not
long before the lioness, finding herself discovered, and
disturbed in her den, taking up her whelp (for si 3 had
but cue), carried it out with her teeth, in ordei to ga
124 ST. MALCIIUS.
,ind seek for another lodging, and thus abandoned th
whole cave to themselves. The apprehension, how
ever, of meeting with the beast, kept them close pris
oners till the evening, when they ventured out, and
found the two camels (who were of the kind which
for their great swiftness are called dromedaries), and
with them fresh provisions, of which they were in
great need : and thus, after refreshing themselves with
food, they mounted upon the camels, and continued
their journey through the desert, and on the tenth day
arrived at the Roman camp, on the confines of the
empire. The commanding officer, after having heard
their history, sent them to Sabinianus, the governor
of Mesopotamia, who gave them the price of their
camels, and so dismissed them.
And now Malchus would have returned to his good
father, the abbot of his monastery, in the desert of
Chalsis : but being informed that he was gone to sleep
in the Lord, he turned his course towards Maronia,
and there associated himself with the monks of that
place : and as to his companion, he committed her to
the care of the nuns that were there ; ever loving her
as if she had been, his sister, as he told St. Jerome,
yet never trusting himself to her as a sister, or expos
ing himself to danger by any familiarity with her.
Here, as St. Jerome concludes his narration, we cannot
pretend to add any further particulars of the acts of
this servant of God, only that he continued to the end
8S. PACHOMIUS AND PALEMON. 125
the saintly life he had begun, and crowned it with a
happy death ; so that he has deserved to have hia
name recorded amongst the Saints of the Roman Mar
tyrology, October 21.
SS. PACHOMIUS AND PALEMON.
Abridged from the Life of St. Pachomius, by an artcieDt
writer, who had his information from the companions
and disciples of the Saint.
ST. PACHOMIUS was born in Thebais, or the higher
Eo-ypt, about the year 292, of infidel parents, who
carried him, when as yet a child, to the temples of
their idols, to make him a partaker of their impious
sacrifices ; but as a presage of what he was one day
to be, when they gave him a little of the wine of the
devil s libations, or drink offerings, to taste, he present
ly cast it up again ; and when upon another solemn
occasion he had accompanied them to celebrate the
festival of an idol that was worshipped upon the banks
of the Nile, the devil was restrained, by his presence,
from returning answers, and deluding the people with
his usual tricks, till by the mouth of the priest he had
ordered Pachomius to le sent away as an enemy of
the gods. Yet all this while he was totally ignorant
126 SS. PACIIOMIUS AND I ALEMOW.
of tlie christian religion, but otherwise led a very mor
al life, and was always modest, temperate, and chaste.
When about twenty years old, Constantino being
then emperor, he was, with many other of his coun
trymen, impressed for the service, on account of a war
just then breaking out. The young recruits were put
on shipboard, in order to pass down the Nile, and so
to be carried to the army. In their way they arrived
at a certain city, where they found the inhabitants re
markably officious in administering all the comfort
and assistance in their power to some young men, who
were kept close confined by their officers, and in great
distress. Pachomius enquired who these men were
that showed so much humanity and benevolence to the
afflicted and distressed ? On being told they were
Christians, a set of men who made it their business to
do good to all men, and especially to strangers in dis
tress, he further enquired what was meant by the name
of Christians, and what were their tenets ? They told
him they were godly and religious people who believed
in Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, and exercised
themselves in all the virtues and works of charity, in
expectation of an eternal reward from God in another
life. Pachomius was touched with this account, and
being visited by the divine grace, withdrew himself
into a corner, and lifting up his hands and heart to
heaven, he called upon the great God, who made
heaven and earth, to enlighten his soul with the
88. PACHOMIUS AND PALEMON. 127
knowledge of the true and perfect rule of life which
he would have him to follow ; and promised, if he
would deliver him from his present bondage, that he
would yield himself up to his divine service during the
remainder of his life, and quit all worldly hopes, to
adhere to him alone. The emperor having shortly
afterwards obtained a complete victory over his ene
mies, and put an end to the war, ordered the new
raised troops to be discharged. Pachomius having
now recovered his wished-for liberty, returned to his
own country, and presently enrolled himself in the
number of those that were under instructions in order
to receive baptism, and being baptised shortly after
wards in the church of the town of Chinoboscium, he
was on the following night favored with a heavenly
vision, which strongly moved him to consecrate the
residue of his life to divine love.
In obedience to this call, he repaired immediately to
Palemon, a holy anchoret, who led a recluse life in a
neighboring desert, with a desire of putting himself
under his conduct and direction, and of spending the
remainder of his life with him. This servant of God,
who led a very austere life, at first refused him admit
tance, alledging, that several others had in like man
ner pretended to put themselves under his discipline^
but became quickly tired of his way of life. Pacho
mius requested tli-at lie would at least put him to the
trial, for that he trusted God would enable him to ex-
128 SS. PACIIOMIUS AND PALEMON.
ecute all that he should require of him. My son,"
said Palemon, " the way of life that I follow is not the
easiest. I eat nothing but bread and salt, and wholly
refrain from oil and wine. I watch one half the night ;
employing that time in solemn prayer, and in meditat-
:ng on the word of God ; and sometimes I pass the
whole night without sleep." Pachomius replied, that
lie hoped the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, with the
help of his prayers, would inspire him with the neces
sary courage to embrace, and patience to suffer all this
rigor, even to the end of his life. Palemon perceiving
the lively faith and steadfast resolution of the young
man, was content to receive him, and clothe him with
the monastic habit ; and Pachomius, on his part, from
the very beginning, embraced the exercises of a reli
gious life with so much ardor, and advanced with such
large steps, day by day, in the paths of virtue and per
fection, as to give unspeakable satisfaction and joy to
his master, who continually returned thanks to Christ
for the wonders of his grace which he discovered in
his disciple. In the mean time they lived together in
the same cell, performed the same practices of absti
nence and prayer, and labored together in the same
manual exercises, that they might not only support
themselves without being burthensome to others, but
also to have wherewith to entertain and relieve their
indigent brethren. After the labors of the day, they
watched and prayed together for the best part of the
88. PACHOM1US AND PALEMOST. 129
night ; and if, upon these occasions, Palemon observed
that Pachomius was in danger of falling asleep, he led
him out of the cell, and employed him in carrying
loads of sand from one place to another, in order to
vercome his drowsiness ; telling him, that if he hoped
/) persevere to the end in his holy undertaking, he
must not by any means suffer himself to relax in
watching and prayer. Besides these exercises, Pacho
mius, in a more particular manner, applied himself to
the cultivating and purifying his interior. In order to
this, whilst he was reading the holy scriptures, and
committing them to his memory, which was a part of
his daily occupation, he paused in silent and deep
meditation upon each of the heavenly precepts, suffer
ing them to sink deep into his soul, and studying to
reduce each of them to practice ; but the favorite vir
tues in which he particularly labored to excel were, a
profound humility, unwearied patience, and unbound
ed charity and love both for God and his neighbor.
When Easter arrived, Palemon ordered Pachomius
to prepare them a dinner for that great festival. The
latter readily obeyed, and, in consideration of the so
lemnity of the feast, mingled a little oil and salt to
gether to be eaten with the wild herbs which he had
gathered. But when, after having prayed together,
Palemon came to table, and saw the sallad prepared
for him, instead of eating it, he wept bitterly, saying :
" my Lord was crucified, and shall I indulge myself
130 83. PACHOMIUS AND PALEMON.
in eating oil !" Neither would lie at any rate be in*
duced to take any other food but his bread and salt aa
usual, blessing it with the sign of the cross before ho
eat thereof, and returning humble thanks to our Lord
afterwards.
One day, whilst Paleraon and Pachomius were
watching together by a fire they had kindled in their
cell, another religious man coming to them, desired
admittance, whom they courteously received. Aftei
some discourse the stranger proposed to them, " thai
if they had as much faith as he had, they would show
it, by standing with their bare feet over the burnino
coals, which himself was ready to do, whilst they re
peated at leisure the Lord s prayer. The servants of
God were shocked at the arrogance of their guest ;
and Palemon besought him to desist from so mad an
attempt. But instead of hearkening to him, being
puffed up with pride and presumption, he went and
stood upon the coals, and by the help of the enemy,
God so permitting, in punishment of his pride, receiv
ed no injury whatsoever. The next morning at de
parting, he added to his pride the insolence of insult
ing the two saints, by reproaching them with their
want of faith. But it wns not long before his arro
gance was most dreadfully punished: for the devil
perceiving that his self-conceit had already stripped
him of divine grace, and left him in a condition to be-
oome an easy prey to lust, came one day to his cell,
88. PACHOMJUS AND PALEMON. 131
m the shape of a most beautiful woman, pretending to
he in the utmost distress, and being- admitted, en
kindled in his heart the fire of concupiscence. The
unhappy man readily yielded to these wicked sugges
tions, and attempting to put them in execution, was
so unmercifully handled by the evil spirit, as to be left
extended upon the floor, without speech or sense.
Having however, after some time, come to himself, he,
as soon as he was able to walk, went to the cell of St.
Palemon telling what had happened, and acknowledg
ing that he had drawn all this evil upon himself by
his pride, and begging their prayers, that the devil
might not tear him in pieces, or otherwise destroy him.
The Saints lamented his case, and wept for him ; but
the enemy to whom he had made himself a slave,
would not suffer him to remain with them ; for all on
a sudden he jumped out of the cell, and after running
about the wilderness like a mad man, he went to the
neighboring city of Panopolis, and there, having flung
himself into the furnace of the hot baths, he perished
in the flames a deplorable example of the dreadful
consequences of pride and presumption.
Pachomius, from hearing the direful exit of this un
happy man, took occasion of being still more humble,
mortified, and fervent in prayer ; and as he had an
extraordinary love for solitude, he often withdrew from
his cell into lonely places, spending his whole time in
prayer ; earnestly begging of the divine Majesty to do-
132 SS. PACHOMIUS AND PALEMON.
liver him from all the deceits and snares of the wicked
one. There was also in the neighborhood a wild
place full of thorns, to which he often went to procure
wood for their use. Upon these occasions it was his
custom to walk bare-foot among the thorns, pleasing
himself with the pricks and wounds that he received
in his feet, by the meditation of t\Q piercing of the
feet of our Saviour upon the cross. One day, going
to a greater distance than ordinary from his cell, he
came to a place called Tabenna, at that time altogeth
er uninhabited, where having, according to custom,
remained a considerable time in prayer, it was reve<\l-
ed to him, that he should there build a monastery, to
which many should resort, and put themselves under
his conduct; for whose instruction and direction he
should receive a rule from heaven ; a sketch of which
was then presented him by an angel. When he re
turned back to Palemon, he acquainted him with this
revelation, and prevailed on him to accompany him
to Tabenna, where they built a small cell, and for
some time remained together, performing their accus
tomed exercises, till at length Palemon, seeing the ex
traordinary grace that God had conferred on Pacho-
mius, went back again, and left him sole possessor o
this new cell, upon condition, that, as long as they
lived, they should frequently visit each other for theii
mutual comfort and spiritual assistance.
And now the time drew near which was to crown
ST. PACHOMIUS. 138
the labors of St. Palemon with an eterna. recompense
in the land of the living. Previous to his death, ha
was seized with a grievous and most painful illness,
whi<?h the brethren who came to visit him, attributed
to his austere and penitential manner of life, and
therefore prevailed upon him to admit of some little
comfort, in point of eating and drinking, in considera
tion of his age and weakness. But he quickly return
ed again to his former manner of diet, alledging, that
the change had only contributed to increase his pains,
and that if the martyrs had bravely suffered so many
cruel torments for the love of Christ, and thereby pur
chased a happy eternity, it would be shameful in him
to forfeit the eternal reward prepared for patient suf
fering, by a cowardly murmuring under his light and
momentary pains. After he had continued about a
month, suffering with invincible courage and constan
cy, his soul, sufficiently purified in the furnace of trib
ulation, took her happy flight, accompanied by angels
to the heavenly mansions. His name stands recorded
amongst the Saints in the Pioman Martyrology, on the
eleventh of January.
After Pachomius had buried his holy father, and
was returned to his cell at Tabenna, God was pleased
to send him his own brother for a companion, who,
having heard of his wonderful life, came to visit him,
which was the first time the Saint had seen any of hia
relations since his conversion, and proposed to live with
12
134 ST. PACHOMIUS.
him. Pachomius having joyfully received him, found
in his brother all the dispositions that could be desired
in a perfect religious man. The two brothers contin
ued together, meditating incessantly on the law of
God both by day and night, with all the affection of
their souls, ever tending towards him, and totally dis
engaged from the least affection towards the things of
the earth. They labored with their hands for their
daily food, and never reserved any thing for to-mor
row ; but whatever they earned above the necessary
sustenance of the day they gave to the poor. Pacho
mius to his former austerities added that of humbling
his soul and body, by wearing hair-cloth ; and during
the space of fifteen years, notwithstanding his hard
labors, long watchings, and continual fastings, never
allowed himself to lie down at night to take his rest ;
but whatever sleep he admitted of, he took sitting in
the midst of his cell, without having any thing at his
back to support himself, or to lean against for his
ease.
In the mean time, the Saint being a second time
admonished from heaven concerning the religious con
gregation he was to institute, and the rules he was to
give them, began to enlarge the place of their habita-
Jon, and to build several additional cells for the recep
tion of those whom he expected would come in good
time to join him in the service of so great a Master
His brother, whose spirit inclined rather to the life of
ST. PACHOMIUS. 135
an anchoret, in a more perfect solitude, after some
time blamed his proceedings, and being the elder
brother, took upon him to bid him desist from so use
less a labor. The Saint, although he could not help be
ing troubled at this opposition, yet bore it with meek
ness and humility, without making the least reply.
But the following night, prostrating himself alone in
prayer in the new building, he remained till morning
in this humble posture, lamenting his misery, and im
ploring the divine mercy for having suffered any emo
tions of impatience or resentment on this occasion to
take place in his soul, begging the grace of God to
guard and protect him from sin, and so powerfully to
assist him for the future, that he might acquire a per
fect mastery over all his passions, and serve him with
all perfection all the days of his life. So numerous
were the tears he shed that night, so great the fervor
of his prayer, and the weather so violently hot, that
what with his weeping and sweat, the place on which
he lay prostrate became as wet as if water had been
cast upon it. At other times, during his devotions
by night, he used to excite himself to watching and
fervor in prayer, by stretching out his arms, keeping
his body as immovable as if he were fastened to the
cross, and remaining for several hours in this painful
posture. On all occasions Pachomius behaved him
self with such humility, meekness, and condescension
towards his brother, that they lived together in the
136 ST. FAcnoMirs.
most perfect harmony and peace, till God was pleased
to take the brother to himself. Pachomius took care
for his burial, and spent the whole night in singing
psalms and hymns over his body, and recommending
his soul to God.
And now PacLomius, as if all he had hitherto done
had been nothing, forgetting, with the Apostle, the
things that were behind, stretched forth himself to the
things that wen- before, by a new fervor in the study
and practice of religious perfection, having the congre
gation which he was to establish in that place always
before his eyes. This drew upon him the inveterate
envy and malice of the wicked enemy, by whom he
was incessantly plied with temptations of every kind,
and frequently with fantastical apparitions ; who
sought either to puff him tip with pride and vain
glory, by the honors he pretended to pay him, or to
allure him to lust, by placing the figures of impudent
women with bare bosoms before him, or by interrupt
ing and distracting him in his devotions, by a variety
of illusions and ludicrous scenes ; sometimes also as
saulting him with open violence, and even laying
many blows and stripes upon him. But the Saint,
armed with a lively faith and strong confidence in
Jesus Christ, whom he called to his assistance by fer
vent prayer, ever came off victorious in all these con
flicts, and even with a great increase of virtue, to the
utter confusion of all the powers of hell : so that being
ST. PACHOMIUS. 137
now enabled by the gift of God, to tread under hia
feet serpents and scorpions, the very crocodiles obeyed
him. In the mean time he would have willingly de
barred himself even of the short time he was obliged
to allow to necessary sleep, which he would have
gladly spent in prayer, and earnestly prayed that the
Lord would enable him to live without it, that he
might be wholly intent on his divine love, which, in
some measure, as far as his mortal condition could
bear was granted to him. Now the great subject of
his prayer, both night and day, was that the will of
God might be ever accomplished in all things.
Shortly afterwards he was again visited by an angel
who told him that it was the will of God that he
should not only serve him himself, with all purity and
perfection, but also that he should assemble a great
multitude of religious men together, and train them
up, and dedicate them to his divine seivice, according
to the method and rule which had been shown him
before. So that now he began to receive all such as
came to him, that were desirous to fly from the conta-
oion of the world, and, by penance, present themselves
as humble suitors to the mercy of God. After having
made them pas? through a long and severe noviceship,
he admitted them to the monastic profession, inces
santly inculcating to them the strict obligation of their
institute, as well with respect to flying from all the
allurements of the world, as of diligently exercising
138 ST.- PACHOMIUS.
themselves in the ways of virtue and holiness : adding,
that a monft, according to the directions of the gospel,
ought first, to renounce the world in general : second
ly, all disorderly affections of flesh and blood to his
nearest kindred and worldly friends ; and, in the last
place, the most difficult of all, he ought to renounce
and deny himself, take up his cross and follow Christ.
As the number of those that resorted to him in
creased every day, he distributed them into different
classes and monasteries, appointing to each of them
their regular exercises and different employments, ac
cording to their several abilities and dispositions, and
making himself all to all, not only by a general solici
tude for their spiritual progress, but also by his readi
ness to serve even the least of them in the meanest
offices, so as to make himself, on every occasion, their
cook their gardener their porter and especially
their infirmarian, by the tender care he always show
ed to the sick, on whom he attended both night and
day.
He delivered to all his monks the rules he had re
ceived from heaven, appointing for them a very mod
erate food, a mean habit, and no more sleep than ne
cessity required. He labored to inspire them with a
well-grounded humility, as the necessary foundation
of all virtue, without which the. spiritual edifice of a
religious life is sure to fall to the ground. To exclude
all ambiti?n, or desire of preferment and superiority,
ST. PACHOMIUS. 139
he would not even allow his monks to be promoted to
the priestly dignity, choosing that they should rathei
remain in the humble condition of laics ; and therefore,
till God sent him some priests, who desired to be ad
mitted to his congregation (for such as these he did
ot refuse, but received with great respect), he was
forced to have recourse to some neighboring clergy
men, requesting them to come and say mass, and ad
minister the holy communion to the religious in his
monasteries. But above all things he recommended
a read) and perfect obedience, as the very soul of reli
gion, and the shortest way to religious perfection, by
divesting them of their own will, and making them
securely find, and faithfully follow, in all things, the
blessed will of God.
He had the bowels of a tender parent towards all
his children, but a more particular affection and com
passion for the aged and sick, as also for young boys,
serving them, and exercising the works of mercy to
wards them with his own hands, and feeling a more
than ordinary solicitude for their comfort and instruc
tion. Nothing could equal the respect, he retained for
the clergy in general, more particularly the bishops of
God s church, or the zeal he had for the purity of the
catholic faith, which made him conceive a horror
against the Arians and other heretics, as enemies of
God s truth : and, as at that time the writings of Ori-
gen, who had unhappily blended the errors of tha
140 ST. PACHOMIUS.
Platonic philosophers with the Christian doctrine, were
very much handed about among the Egyptian monks.
to the great prejudice of their souls, Pachomius de
clared open war against them, and prohibited all his
monks the reading of them.
Being likewise animated by an extraordinary zeal
for the salvation of the souls, not only of his own reli
gious, but also of all others whom he saw in want of
spiritual assistance, and observing in that part of the
country many of the meaner sort of people employed
in the care of the cattle, who had for want of having
a church at hand to which they might resort, lived in
great ignorance, deprived of the use of the sacra
ments ; to remedy so great an evil, he applied to the
bishop of Tentyra, and procured that a church should
be built for them in the neighboring village ; and as it
was some time before they were provided with clergy
men, he went himself with his monks, on Sundays
and holidays, and read lessons out of the divine Scrip
tures, proper for their instruction, in so edifying a man
ner, with such a saintly air of devotion, and so serene
and heavenly a countenance, as made his auditory re
ceive him, and attend to him, not as to a man, but as
to an angel sent them from heaven. Numbers upon
this occasion were brought over by his instructions
from the gulf of in6delity and error to the Christian
faith ; and the more so, because he, on his part, em
ployed nut only the words of exhortation and doctrine
ST. PACHOMIUS. 141
in their behalf, but also the more effectual arms of fer
vent prayer for their conversion, accompanied with
many sighs and tears.
About this time the great St. Athanasius, bishop of
Alexandria, in visiting the churches of Egypt, which
were all under his jurisdiction, came also to Tabenna,
where our Saint had established his monasteries.
Pachomius, who had venerated this holy patriarch, as
.he great pillar of the church of God, and respected
nim much more for his sanctity than for his dignity,
caused all his monks to go out to meet him, singing
psalms and hymns, and to receive him with great rev
erence and joy ; yet so that he himself would not ap
pear at their head, nor any way distinguish himself
amongst them, but hid himself in the crowd, to avoid
being particularly taken notice of by that great prel
ate, who, as he feared, would promote him against his
will to the priestly dignity, at the recommendation of
the bishop of Tentyra his diocesan, who very much
desired to have him ordained priest.
Whilst Pachomius was thus happily employed in
conducting a great number of holy souls in the ways
of eternal life, and directing them to perfection, both
by word and example, his sister, hearing the fame of
his sanctity, came one day to his monastery, desiring
to see him. The Saint, who never admitted any wo
man into his monastery, sent her word by the porter
that he was alive and well, and requested she would
142 ST. PACHOMIUS.
return homo in peace, and not make herself uneasy on
account of her not seeing him in this transitory life ;
but added, that if she desired to follow the same kind
of life as he did, in order to find mercy with God, and
secure to her soul a happy eternity, she should think
seriously of it ; and if this should be her fixed resolu
tion, he would give orders for building a proper man
sion for her at a distance from his monastery, where
she might serve the Lord, under regular discipline, in
all purity of soul and body, and in time engage many
others, by her example, to dedicate themselves in like
manner to the love and service of Christ in a religious
life : for, to expect to find, said he, any solid rest, con
tent, or happiness, but in works of godliness, as long
as we carry this body of death about us, is a thing
utterly impossible. His sister hearing this, shed a
flood of tears ; and being at the same time touched
with a powerful grace, determined upon the spot to
choose that better part which he had so strenuously
recommended to her ; and accordingly, as soon as the
monastery which he ordered to be built for her, was
in readiness, she entered into it, and there served our
Lord with such sanctity and perfection, as to attract
many others of her sex to join in her holy undertak
ing, and consecrate themselves to Christ under her
direction. This was the origin of the nuns of the or
der of St. Pnchomius, to whom the Saint gave the
same rules as to his monks : and took the strictest
ST. PACIIOMIUS. 143
care imaginable, that the one should have 1/ttle or no
communication with the other, so that he might cut
off all occasions of temptation.
Among the disciples of St. Pachomms, the most
illustrious imitator of his virtues, and his successor in
sanctity, was St. Theodore, whose history is briefly as
follows : He was born of noble and wealthy Christian
parents, according to the world. His father dying
when he was very young, left him heir to a plentiful
estate, under the care of a tender and affectionate
mother. But he had a better Father in heaven, who
showed his great care and tender love for him by an
early weaning of his heart from the love of Uie world
and its vanities ; and sweetly inviting him to his divine
service in a very extraordinary manner, when he was
as yet scarcely twelve years old. His conversion hap
pened upon a solemn occasion of public mirth, whilst
a great feast was preparing in his house, which abound
ed in rich furniture and all kind of world! v wealth,
when behold he was suddenly visited with a heavenly
light in his interior, which clearly convinced him of
the nothingness of transitory things, accompanied with
a strong call to give up all to follow Christ. " Alas !
what would it profit thee, unhappy Theodore," said
he to himself on this occasion, " if thou shouldest even
gain the whole world, and enjoy all the temporal de
lights the world can give, shouldst thou lose by these
means the eternal goods arvl immortal joys of heaven f
144 ST. PACHOMIUS.
for there is no pretending to pass thy life here in these
vain pleasures and delights, and yet expect to merit
jverlasting rewards hereafter." With these send
meats he withdrew himself into a private closet, and
there prostrating himself on the floor, with many sigha
and tears he prayed thus to our Lord : " Almighty
God, who knowest all the secrets of hearts, thou know-
est there is not any thing in this world that I prefer
before the love of thee. Wherefore I implore thy
mercy, that thou wouldst direct me to accomplish thy
holy will, enlightening my poor soul, that she may
never sleep in the darkness of sin and eternal death,
but being redeemed by thy grace, may be brought to
praise and glorify thee for ever." Whilst he was pray
ing to this effect his mother came in, and finding him
all in tears, asked him who had given him any trouble
or offence, that he should grieve in such a manner, and
separate himself at dinner time from the company ?
that they had been seeking him every where, and were
greatly concerned about him. He begged of her to
make herself quite easy, and to go to table, but de
sired withal to be excused from bearing her company.
From this time he accustomed himself, in going to
school, to fast every day till the evening, and frequent
ly to eat nothing for two days ; and for two whole
years, whilst he remained in the world, he totally re
frained from all delicacies, contenting himself with the
meanest and coarsest kind of food. After some time
8T. PACHOMItJS. 146
he quitted all that he seemed to possess in the world,
and entered into a monastery : where he had not been
long before he heard of St. Pachomius, and was in
spired with a desire of putting himself under his dis
cipline. Having followed the call, he went to Taben-
na, was cordially received by the Saint, and, in a short
time, by the great fervor with which he applied him
self to watching, fasting, and prayer, and to all good
works, made a very considerable progress in all vir
tues.
Whilst Theodore was climbing up the hill of Chris
tian perfection, by a constant attention to please God,
and omit nothing which he conceived would promote
his spiritual advancement, his mother having heard
where he was, attempted to bring him back again into
the world. Wherefore having obtained letters of re
commendation from some bishops, to whom she knew
Pachomius could refuse nothing, she went to the mon
astery of the nuns, and wrote from thence to the holy
abbot, desiring that she might see her son. Pachomi
us called for Theodore, and told him how the case
stood ; and that to satisfy his mother s, desire, and in
consideration of the holy prelates whose letters she
had brought, he thought he might go and see her.
And will you assure me, reverend father, said Theo
dore, that after receiving such great lights and calls
from God, as I have received, and leaving both my
mothei and all things else in the world, for the love
ST. PACHOMIUS. 140
of Christ, I shall have nothing to answer to our Lord,
at the last day, if I should go now and see my mother
to gratify flesh and blood, and give this disedification
to my brethren ? Nay, said Pachomius, if you don t
judge it expedient for your soul, I don t wish to com
pel you : for it is far more becoming a true monk
whose profession it is to renounce the whole world,
and himself also, to shun all manner of unprofitable
worldly visits and vain conversation, and to admit of
no other company but of those from whose godly dis
course he may be edified in the ways of God. This
refusal, however disagreeable it might be at first to
the mother of Theodore, turned to her great advan
tage, in order to the salvation of her soul ; for in
hopes of meeting with some opportunity, sooner or
later, of seeing her son amongst the other religious,
she resolved to continue with the nuns, and to follow
the same holy way of life. And as to Theodore, his
whole life from this time was so perfect and saint-like
in every regard, that after his death he was enrolled
amongst the saints. His name occurs in the Roman
Martyrology on the twenty-eighth of December.
But to return to St. Pachomius. As he had re
ceived unspeakable joy and comfort on occasion of the
fervor of Theodore and many others of his monks,
whom he saw advancing rapidly in the way of reli
gious perfection, so he was exceedingly afflicted when
he met any one, who, under the habit of religion, had
ST. PACHOMIUS. 147
nothing of the spirit of religion, but lived rather ac
cording to the flesh, not having as yet put oft the old
man of their former worldly conversation. With such
as these he spared no pains, but employed every means,
such as admonitions exhortations corrections fer
vent prayers to God, and tears poured forth in their
behalf, in order to obtain for them the grace of a per
fect conversion : and did not desist till they were either
brought to a sense of their duty, and reclaimed from
their evil ways, or else, if they proved incorrigible, en
tirely cut off from his congregation. A young man,
named Silvanus, who had been an actor upon the
stage, quitting his sinful profession, came to put him
self undei the discipline of the Saint, and was received
in his monastery. But whilst he was here, he led for
some time a careless life, breaking through the rules
of the- congregation, and spending his time in enter
taining himself and others with his former ridiculous
buffooneries, to the great scandal of his brethren, who
desired the holy abbot to dismiss him. The man of
God, who was very unwilling to send back again into
the world any of his children, employed, besides his
charitable remonstrances and exhortations, which were
without effect, his more potent arm of continual pray
er, sighs and tears, for this poor soul ; and then taking
him aside, represented to him, in so strong and pow
erful a manner, the truths of eternity, the dreadful
judgments that threaten impenitent sinners, with the
148 ST. PACHOMIUS.
rest of the motives thai are most proper to excite ra
souls both the fear and love of God : that the grace
of God entering into the heart of Silvaims, he was
immediately touched with so lively a sense of his sins,
and such deep compunction for them, as not only en
tirely to refrain for the time to come from his former
faults, and begin to lead a new life of great edification
to the rest of his brethren, but also in every place, arid
in all his occupations to be continually weeping and
".amen ting so bitterly for his past crimes, that he could
not refrain from sobbing and mourning, even whilst
he was taking his meal with the other religious.
When his brethren desired him not to afflict himself
to such an excessive degree, since it became even trou
blesome to them, but rather to restrain these outward
tokens of grief which were no way necessary even to
the most perfect compunction, the true seat of which
dwelt within the heart, he answered, that he would
jjladly obey them, and accordingly made all the effort?
he could to refrain from them ; but he found a certain
flame burning within his breast, that would not suffer
him to be quiet. But, said they, what subject or oc
casion is there for all these flood of tears 1 " Ah "
said he, " how can I help weeping, when I see so
many holy brethren, the dust of whose feet I ought
to venerate, so charitable as to take notice of me?
When I see a wretch that is come from the playhouse,
quite laden with sins, receive so many good offices. 1
ST. PACHOMIUS. 149
Alas ! I have reason to fear, lest the earth should open
under my feet, and swallow me down, as it did
Dathan and Abiron, in punishment of my having pro
faned all that was sacred, after so clear a knowledge
and experience of divine grace, by leading so slothful
and wicked a life. Wonder not at my weeping. Oh ?
my brethren, I have just reason to labor to expiate
my innumerable sins with ever flowing fountains of
tears; and if I could even pour forth this wretched
soul of mine in mourning, it would be all too little to
punish my crimes. 1 With these sentiments of humil
ity and contrition he made so rapid a progress in vir
tue and sanctity, as to be admired by the holy abbot
himself, who proposed him to the rest of his monks,
as a singular pattern of humility, and assured them
that neither Theodore himself, nor any of the rest of
them, whose lives had been the most innocent, and
who seemed, by their good works, to have already
trodden Satan under their feet, were near so much out
of danger of this enemy rising up against them, and
overthrowing them by pride, as Silvanus was, whose
perpetual contrition and humility kept the devil at so
great a distance, that he could lay no manner of hold
on him. This glorious penitent, after eight years spent
in thus continually offering to God the sacrifice of a
contrite and humble heart, put a happy end to his
penitential course of life, by dying the death of the
saints : and St. Pachomius gave testimony, that at tht
150 ST. PACHOMIU&.
hour of his death a multitude of heavenly spirits con
veyed his soul along with them, with great joy, and
presented it as a choice sacrifice to Christ our Lord.
There was another also of the religious whose sanc
tity was much esteemed by Pachomius, whom he like
wise proposed as an extraordinary pattern of virtue
and perfection to the rest of his monks. His name
was Zacheus ; who, after he had for a long tim
served the Lord with great diligence and fervor in a
religious state, fell ill of the jaundice, which forsook
him not till his death. On this occasion lie had a cell
appointed him, in which he lived separated from the
rest of the religious ; yet he omitted none of the regu
lar exercises of the community, but was always with
the rest at all the hours of prayer. He never allowed
himself in his illness any sleep in the day ; and every
night, before he laid himself down to rest, he employ
ed himself for a considerable time in meditating on
some passages of the holy Scriptures, and then signing
his whole body with the sign of the cross, and glorify
ing God, he took his short repose. About midnight
he rose again, and continued praising God till the
time of the morning prayers. His entire food was
only bread and salt, and the whole time that was va
cant from other duties, he spent in making mats, and
woiking with his hands. In twisting the palm-leavet
which he made use of in his work, though his hand*
became so much galled and wounded thereby as often
RT. PACKOMIUS. 151
times to shed blood, yet he never interrupted his work,
nor betrayed the least emotion to impatience. One
of the brethren, on seeing his hands grievously wound
^d, and all bloody whilst at work, entreated him to
consider his illness, and to spare himself; for that God,
who knew what he suffered, and how much he was
otherwise afflicted by his disease, would not impute it
to him for sin, nor charge him with sloth, if he did
not work ; and as to the community, they expected it
not from him ; but as they willingly exercised hospi
tality to the greatest stranger, and to all that were in
want, they would, no doubt, take a much greater
pleasure in serving him. Zacheus answered that he
could not possibly think of living without working.
Well, said the other, if you are fixed in your resolu
tion of continuing to work, at least anoint your hands
with oil, to prevent the loss of so much blood. Za
cheus followed his advice ; but instead of finding any
ease by the application of the oil to his wounded
hands, the pain increased to such a degree as to be
come quite insupportable. St. Pachomius came to
visit him on this occasion, and treating him as one
that stood not in need of milk, but was capable of di
gesting the strongest diet, reprehended him for having
sought this assuagement of his pains, which God had
sent him for his profit, and not having resigned him
self wholly to him, but rather trusted in this visible
medicine than in the living God. Zacheus made no
152 ST. PACHOMIUS.
apology for himself, but meekly answered : " Forgive
me, reverend father, and pray to the Lord for me, that
he may vouchsafe in his mercy to remit me this sir
also, together with all my other sins." My authoi
adds, from the testimony of many of the brethren, that
he bewailed himself for a whole twelvemonth on this
occasion, and observed during that time so strict a fast,
as to eat but once in two days, and that in a small
quantity. Pachomius used to direct such as were
afflicted, or oppressed with sadness, to this holy man,
for he had a wonderful talent of administering com
fort to all that were in trouble or affliction of mind.
He continued his labors and conflicts to the end;
when in a good old age he passed from temporal sor
rows to eternal joys.
St. Pachomius was invited by Varus, the holy bishop
of Panopolis, to come into his diocese, in order to es
tablish some monasteries of his institute. In this way
he visited divers religious houses included in the num
ber of those that were under his direction. On enter
ing into one of these houses, he met the brethren car-
rving out the corpse of one of the religious, accom
panied by his worldly friends and relations, in order
to be buried with a solemn office in an honorable
manner. At the sight of the Saint they all stood
Atill, desiring him to piay both for themselves and the
deceased brother. H.IN ing finished his prayer, under
standing in spirit the vi etched state of his soul, (fo/
ST. PACHOMIUS. 153
th3 man had led a very careless and indolent life), lie
forbid them to proceed in their psalrns, and ordered
them to strip off the fine garments with which they
had clad him, and to bury him without any solemnity
or tokens of honor, which, as the holy abbot assured
them, would be rather prejudicial than beneficial to
his unhappy soul ; which proceeding of the Saint was
designed as a warning to all his disciples not to rel)
so much on wearing the habit, as in leading the life
of a religious. After remaining here two days, teach
ing and instructing his monks, and arming them
against the deceits of Satan, a message was brought
him from the monastery of Chenoboscium, that one
of the religious there, who was near his end, desired
to see him, and to have his last blessing before he
died. Thither he hastened with the utmost speed :
but when he came within two or three miles of the
monastery, he heard a heavenly melody in the air, and
looking up beheld the soul of the servant of God car
ried up by angels to heaven, who died at the very in
stant of time, as the companions of the Saint, to whom
he related what he had heard and seen, found when
they returned to the monastery.
Pachomius was received witr great honor by the
bishop, who assigned proper places to him and his
monks for the building of their monasteries, which,
whilst they were rising up, some wicked men, by the
instigation of Satan, pulled down in the night what they
154 ST. PACIIOMIUS.
had built during the day. On this occasion the Saint
preached patience to his people ; but God took his
cause in hand for one night, whilst these wretches were
intent upon their wickedness, they were suddenly con
sumed by fire, and seen no more. On several other
occasions God was pleased to work miracles in favor
of the faith and sanctity of his servant Pachomius, of
which the following instances may suffice. A woman,
who had labored for a long time under an issne of
blood, was suddenly cured, by coming behind him,
and only touching his habit whilst he was sitting in
the church of Tentyra, with Denys the priest. >Iany
others were healed of divers diseases, and delivered
from the possession of wicked spirits, by his prayers.
A man came to him one day, desiring him to cast the
devil out of his daughter. The Saint told him that
he and his religious never spoke to women, but that
he should send him in any garment that belonged to
his daughter, which he would bless in the name of the
Lord : and that he trusted in Christ she would be res
cued from the power of the enemy. The father ac
cordingly brought him one of her garments, which
when the holy abbot beheld, he presently understood
in spirit the case of the young woman, viz. that she
was guilty of sins of impurity, by which she had vio
lated the vow of chastity she had made to God, and
that upon this account the devil had permission U, take
possession of her. He returned therefore the garment
ST. PACHOMItS. 155
to the father, telling him how the case stood, and that
if he desired his daughter should be delivered from the
devil, she must first repent, be converted from her sins,
promise not to be guilty of them any more, and that
then she should find mercy. Her father took her *A
task, arid at length she acknowledged her guilt, with
great signs of repentance, and promised, in the most
solemn manner, to refrain from committing the like
sins for the future. Upon which the man of God
gave the father some oil which he had blessed, by the
use of which she was presently cured, and never
ceased to glorify God, who had delivered her at once,
both from the possession of the devil, and from her
sinful habit. The Saint on his part was never puffed
up with pride or vain glory on account of any of the
miraculous cures that God wrought by him ; but con
tinuing always in the fear of God, and in a perfect
sense of his own nothingness, he kept his soul always
evsn, so as neither to be elevated by good success, nor
depressed with evil : and if at any time God did not
grant the things for which he petitioned, he was per
fectly resigned to the divine will, knowing that to be
best, both for himself and for all others, which God
ordained, and saw to be most fitting.
One of the religious, who was a diligent imitator of
the virtues of the holy abbot, standing one day in
prayer, was struck in the foot by a scorpion, and
though the torment he suffered on that occasion was
156 ST. PACHOMtUS,
extreme, and the pain, togethei with the poison, had
spread itself even to the heart, and threatened him
with present death, yet he would by no means inter
rupt his devotions, nor stir from his place, till ho had
finished his prayer ; and then Pachomius prayed to
our Lord in bis rchalf, and he was presently healed.
On the other hand Theodore, being afflicted with a
violent pain in the head, desired the .nan of God to
pray for his cure : but he answered, that it was far
better for him to bear the pain, which God had sent
for his profit, with perfect resignation, patience, and
humility, how long soever it might continue to afflict
him, and to thank his divine Majesty for it, as for a
great favor ; saying, that a religious man might merit
more, and please God better, by patience and confor
mity to his divine will in sufferings and sickness, than
by the most rigorous abstinence, or long continual
prayers in the time of health.
And now after our Saint had established his con
gregation upon a solid foundation, and assembled to
gether a multitude of holy souls, serving God in great
perfection, many of whom he had sent before him to
heaven, he himself was seized with his last illness a
little after Easter, anno 348. In his sickness he pre
served always a serene and cheerful countenance : and
after having called together the brethren, and made
an excellent exhortation to them, begging of them to
ever remember all the lessons he had given, to avoid
ST. PACHOMIUS. 151
(he conversation of heretics, and to be ever vigilant in
prayer and all other exercises of virtue, he recommend
ed to them the choice of a successor : and after two
days, arming himself with the sign of the cross, and
looking with a cheerful aspect on an angel of light,
who was sent to conduct bim to heaven, he breathed
out his holy soul, to take her ilight to her heavenly
country, upon the ninth of May. His name stands
recorded among the Saints in the Roman Martyrolo-
gy, on the fourteenth of May ; and in the Menologies
of the Greeks on the fifteenth ; where also they affirm
that the number of his monks, before his death,
amounted to one thousand four hundred. But Palla-
dius, afterwards bishop of Helenopolis, who has given
an abstract of the life of St. Pachomius, in his Historia
Lausiaca, chap. 38, and who had visited in person the
holy inhabitants of the deserts of Egypt, some years
after the death of this Saint, affirms that the whole
number of the monks, whom St. Pachomius had under
his care in all his monasteries, amounted to seven
thousand ; and that in his own monastery of Tabenna
alone, there were no less than one thousand four hun
dred monks, who maintained themselves by the labor
of their own hands, without being troublesome to any
one, and who, at the same time, by their frugal way
of living, were enabled also to exercise hospitality, and
to give liberal charities to the poor.
14
158 ST. AMMO JT.
ST. AMMOX, ABBOT.
From St ithacasius, in his Life cf St. Antony, chap. 31.
Rufinua and Palladius, in their History of the Holy
Fathers of the Deserts of Egypt.
ST. AMMCN, or Amon, the first founder of the monas
teries of Nitri.i, and as some authors affirm, the first
author of a cenobitical or conventual life, was born of
noble and wealthy Egyptian parents in the third cen
tury. From his youth he embraced a saintly life, de
siring to serve God in perfect purity both of soul and
body ; but when he arrived at the age of twenty-two,
his relations compelled him to marry a Christian virgin
animated by the like virtuous dispositions as himself,
as appeared shortly after ; for as soon as they were left
alone on their wedding night, Ammon represented to
his spouse how much happier and more pleasing to
God the state of virginity was, than that of the use
of matrimony, strengthening his arguments with the
authority of holy Scripture, and at the same time so
powerfully exhorting her to preserve the treasure of
her virginal purity, and instructing her in the manner
of life she should lead to please Christ, the true spouse
of virgins, that she willingly agreed that they should
live like brother and sister in the same house, in per
fect continence, lying in different beds, and only united
ST. AMMON. 159
with the bonds of the spirit, in chanty and prayer.
After this manner they lived together in the world for
the space of eighteen years ; Ammon dividing his
time in such manner as to dedicate the best part of it
to labor, by working in his garden and balm-yard, and
the rest to his exercises of prayer and devotion, usually
fasting till the evening. At the expiration of this
time, their parents and friends, who had obliged them
to marry, being now dead, they mutually agreed to
live asunder, and each of them to embrace a monastic
life. Ammon, therefore, left her in possession of the
house, which, in process of time, she converted into a
nunnery : many devout virgins resorting to her, and
putting themselves under her direction, whilst he re
tired into the wilderness of mount Nitria, forty miles
distant from Alexandria, where he built two cells, and
laid the foundations of that admirable religious insti
tute, which was afterwards followed by no less than
five thousand religious, who, although dwelling in
about fifty different habitations, yet all meeting to
their public devotions in one large church, served by
eight priests.
As to the particulars of the acts of St. Ammon,
after his retiring to mount Nitria, as none of his con
temporaries have given us his life at large, we must
content oui selves with briefly inserting what is inci
dentally related of him in the life of St. Antony, chap.
32. Here we are informed by St. Athanasius,
100 8T. AMMON.
tlmt St. Ammon, who was united with St. Antony in
the bands of a most holy friendship, frequently visited
him ; secondly, that from his childhood to an ad
vanced age, he always lived the life of a saint ;
thirdly, that he was greatly renowned for signs, wos
ders, and miraculous graces ; and fourthly, that a!
the instant of his death, his happy soul was seen by
St. Antony, then at the distance of thirteen day s jour
ney from Nitria, taking her flight to heaven, escorted
by a multitude of celestial spirits. As an instance of
his great favor with God, and how great a lover he
was of modesty and purity, St. Athanasius relates, that
upon a certain occasion, when he was obliged, together
with his disciple Theodore, a man also of great sanc
tity to pass over the river Lycus, then swelled by sud
den rains, he desired Theodore to retire, and keep at a
distance whilst he put off his garments, that they might
not behold each other naked ; but whilst he was think
ing to strip, he felt a great repugnance to divest him
self, through modesty and shame of seeing his own
naked flesh, when behold, being on a sudden seized
with an extacy or trance, he found himself on the
other side of the river, without knowing how he came
thither. Theodore coming up, was surprised to find
he had been so expeditious in passing the river, and
the more so, as he could perceive no marks of moisture
either on his feet or garments, and did not cease to
Importune him to let him know how it happened,
ST. AMMON. 161
which he i efused, till after he had promised to keep
the matter a secret as long as Ammon should live.
Though this Theodore be different from St. Theodore,
the disciple of St. Pachomius, yet he has deserved no
less than he, by his extraordinary virtues, a place
amongst the saints, with whom his name stand*
enrolled in the Roman Marty rology on the seventh
of January.
Rutinns, in his Lives of the Fathers, chap. 30, and
Palladius, in his Historia Lausiaca, chap. 3, relate
several other instances of the grace, miracles, and pro
phetic spirit of St. Ammon. Whilst he lived retired
in the wilderness, a youth, who had been bit by a
mad dog, was brought to him bound in chains in a
frantic condition. His parents, who accompanied him,
begged that the Saint, who at this time was renowned
for miracles, would cure him. " You demand that of
me which far exceeds my merits ; but thus much,"
said he, " I will tell you, if you restore the poor widow
the ox you have privately stolen, your son shall be
healed." They were frightened as well as astonished,
when they heard him speak of the theft, which they
were sensible he could not know but by revelation.
However, having made the restitution which was re
quired, the young man, at the prayer of the servant
of God, was perfectly cured.
On another occasion, when two men, who had com
to visit him in his solitude, found that he stood in nee**
162 ST. AMMON.
of a large vessel to keep water for the use of such aa
resorted to him, they promised to bring him a vessel
sufficiently capacious for that purpose ; the one being
master of a camel, the other of an ass. The former,
after his return home, repented of his promise, and told
bis companion that he would not risk the life of his
camel by loading him with so heavy a burthen. Well,
said the latter, rather than be worse than my word, I
will venture to lay upon my ass the load which you
&ay would kill your camel ; trusting that the merits of
the man of God will make that possible which appeal s
impossible. Having done as he said, the ass carried
the vessel with as much ease as if he felt no burthen
whatever. When he came to the cell, the Saint com
mended his faith, and told him that his neighbor had
in the mean while lost his camel by death : and ac
cordingly, on his return home, he found that whilst he
was on his way to the Saint, the camel had been wor
ried and killed by wolves.
As to the disciples of St. Ammon, as well as the
monks his successors in the congregation of mount
Nitria, they were for a long time after so renowned
for their regular discipline, hospitality and charity, that
Rufinus and Palladius, from their own experience, who
had been some time among them, hesitate not to be
stow on them the highest encomiums. St. Jerome
also, as we learn from his apology against Rufinus,
made a journey on purpose to visit them. u I went,"
ST. AMMON. 163
says he, " to Egypt to survey the monasteries of Ni-
tria, and plainly perceived some asps lurking auongst
the choirs of the saints," alluding to the errors of
Origen, which had crept in amongst some of the re
ligious. We also learn from the authors above-named,
that as soon as they and their companions were come
within sight of the monasteries, the religious, accord
ing to their custom, came out to meet them, bringing
loaves of bread and pitchers of water to refresh them,
after the fatigue of their journey over those burning
sands ; that then they conducted them to the church,
singing psalms, where, after washing and wiping their
feet, they contended which of them should introduce
them into their cells, and there entertain them not
only with all offices of humanity and charity in their
power with regard to their corporal refreshment, but
also with excellent lessons of spirituality for the bene
fit of their souls ; in which they particularly inculcated
die practice of their favorite virtues of humility and
meekness, in which they themselves singularly ex
celled.
For the entertainment of strangers and foreigners,
they had built a large hospital near to the church,
where all that came were welcome to stay as long as
they pleased, although it were for two or three years,*
vet so, that after the first seven days they were em
ployed in some kind of work, as all the monks were ; or
at least if they were persons of note, in reading such
164 8T. AMMOX.
good books as they put in their hands. They were
also to have no conversation together, but to keep
silence at least till noon. As to the afternoon, about
the ninth hour, "one might stand," says Palladius.
chap. 7, "and hear in every one of the monasteries
the religious singing hymns and psalms to Christ, and
joining prayers with their hymns in so sweet and me
lodious a manner, that one would be apt to think him
self elevated on high, and translated into a heavenly
paradise."
About ten miles from Nitria, further on in the
wilderness, there was a place named Cellia, from the
multitude of cells that lay every where dispersed up
and down. Here such of the Nitrian monks as aspir
ed after greater solitude and perfection made them
selves cells, in which they lived as anchorets, at a good
distance from each other ; never conversing together,
or seeing one another, but when they met twice a
week at church, unless the case of sickness, or some
office of charity, required that any one should visit
the cell of another, or break in upon his silence and
solitude. In this place, charity, piety, and sanctitv,
were seen to reign in the utmost perfection.
St. Amiiion passed to a better life on the fourth of
October, on which day he is commemorated in the
Menologies of the Greeks, about the middle of the
fourth century.
ST. PAUL THE SIMPLE. 165
ST. PAUL THE SIMPLE.
From Rufmus, chap. 31, and Palladius, chap. 28
PAUL, surnamed the Simple, from his innocent sim
plicity, was, by his education, a plain honest husband
man, who had led a blameless life to the age of sixty,
in a married state, when, upon a certain occasion, hav
ing caught his wife in adultery, he resolved to forsake
both her and the world ; and after travelling eight
days into the wilderness, addressed himself to St.
Antony, requesting he would receive him into the
number of his disciples, and teach him the way to
save his soul. St. Antony told him he was now too
old to think of becoming a monk, and that he could
never be able to support the difficulties and austerities
of a monastic life, especially in his eremitical way :
" but go," said he, " into the village, and there employ
yourself in working for your bread, and praising God :"
and having said this, he went in and shut his cell.
Paul nevertheless, continued fasting and praying at
the door during three days and three nights, till An
tony, at length seeing his faith and perseverance, came
out cind told him, that the way to salvation was obe
dience, and that if he would be his disciple, he must
do all that he said to him ; to which Paul readily
gave his assent, and made good his word, by comply
166 ST. PAUL THE SIMPLE.
ing to a title with every injunction of the Saint, how
difficult or irrational soever it seemed to be. Antony,
in order to try him, imposed upon him a variety of
labors, mortifications, and humiliations, till at length
he found him to be a man entirely humble, simple,
and quite according to his own heart. He gave him
therefore a rule of life which he should follow, and
after some time ajfpointed him a cell, at the distance
of three miles from his own, where he frequently visit
ed him ; teaching him to spend his solitary hours in
such a manner, as that whilst his hands were at work,
his heart should be in heaven : and as to his corporal
sustenance, he directed him never to eat or drink till
evening, and even then with such moderation as never
to satisfy his appetite, especially in his drink, though
his beverage was nothing but water.
By following these rules, but more particularly by a
constant and fervent application of his soul to God in
mental prayer, Paul quickly arrived at great perfection
in all virtues ; amongst which his obedience, as well
as his humility, were particularly remarkable. One
day, when many religious were assembled with St.
Antony, conferring about spiritual matters, on making
frequent mention of the prophets, Paul, who was one
of the company, according to his simplicity, asked
whether the prophets lived before or since the time of
our Saviour? St. Antony, by way of reproving his
putting such an absurd question, made a nod to him,
ST. PAUL THE SIMPLE. 167
saying : 0, hold your peace. Paul, who had pre
viously resolved to obey every word that Antony said
to him, as if it. had been an oracle from God himself,
immediately departed to his cell, and kept there so
trict a silence, that he would not upon any occasion
tter so much as a single word ; till Antony hearing
of it, desired him to speak, and asked him the mean
ing of his long silence ? " Why father," said he, " i
was in obedience to you : for you bid me go and hold
my peace." St. Antony took occasion from hence to
say to the rest of his disciples : " This man condemns
us all ; for whereas we are so often wanting in our
obedience to our great Master, who speaks to us from
heaven ; he always scrupulously observes every single
word, of what kind soever he hears from my mouth."
By these large steps of obedience and humility,
Paul advanced rapidly towards God, and was reward
ed by him with such admirable gifts and graces, as to
work even more and greater miracles than St. Antony
himself; insomuch that this holy abbot used to send
such possessed persons to Paul as he himself could
not cure. An instance of which is thus recorded by
Palladius. A young man, possessed by a most furi
ous and obstinate devil, being brought to Antony, he
told the people, that this evil spirit was one of the
principal demons, and that the power of casting them
out: was not as yet given to him, but to the humble and
simple Paul. Having therefore himself conducted
168 ST. PAUL THE SIMPLE.
him to Paul, he said : " Here cast out the devil from
this man, that he may return home and glorify God."
"Why don t you do it yourself?" said Paul. "I
have something else to do," replied Antony, and so
hastened back to his cell. Paul fell prostrate in
prayer, and then rising up said to the devil, in his
innocent way, " Get thee gone out of the man : father
Antony says thou must go out." The devil called
him a foolish old man, and told him he would not :
and when he urged him a second time, repeating
again that Antony said he must out, he abused both
him and Antony, calling them by contemptuous
names, and still refused to depart. " If thou wilt
not go out," said Paul, "I will go and tell Jesus
Christ, and it shall be worse for thee." The devil
broke out into blasphemies against Christ, and obsti
nately kept his hold. The holy man therefore went
out of his cell, in the broiling heat of the sun at noon
day (which, in Egypt, says my author, is not unlike
the Babylonian furnace), and standing upon a rock,
addressed his prayer to Jesus Christ crucified, protest
ing in his simplicity, that he would neither come down
from the rock, nor eat or drink, till he was pleased to
hear him, and to force the devil out of the man
when, behold, whilst he was at prayer, the devil roar
ed out, " I go, I go, I suffer violence, this is an intol
erable tyranny ; I am departing from the man, never,
never more to return. It is Paul s humility and sim-
ST. PAUL THE SIMPLE. 169
plicity casts me out : I know not whither 1 must go."
With these words the man was presently delivered ;
and as a token of the devil s departure, a serpent of
an unusual length was seen at the same time to crawl
towards the red sea.
Many other still greater miracles were wrought by
the prayers of this Saint ; but what is related of him
in an ancient author, published by Rosweydus, in the
7th book of the Lives of the Fathers, c. 23. is still
more admirable; viz. that he had received the gift
from God, of reading in the countenances of the
brethren their very thoughts, and the whole state of
their souls. Thus, one day, whilst the religious were
entering into the church, he saw all of them go in
with a great serenity and brightness on their counte
nance, attended by their good angels full of joy, except
one who appeared black and gloomy, having on either
side of him a devil, who held him with a bridle,
whilst his good angel followed behind at a distance,
and appeared sad and sorrowful. The man of God,
on seeing this, spent the whole time they were at
church in weeping and lamenting for his soul, wt;ch
he understood to be in the deplorable ^tate of morUl
*in ; but on looking at him when they came out
again, he found him quite changed, his countenance
now bright and beautiful, his good angel rejoicing,
and the devils standing at a distance, grieving for
having lost their prey. At the sight of this wonder-
170 ST. PAUL THE SIMPLE.
ful change, the Saint could not contain his joy, but
broke out into the praises of God, extolling aloud the
wonders of his mercy, manifested in behalf of poor
sinners. Having related what he had seen, he earn
estly entreated the converted monk, for the glory of
God, and the edification of his brethren, to declare
what change he had experienced in his interior, which
could occasion the sudden and wonderful alteration he
had remarked in his exterior. In compliance with
the request of the Saint, he publicly confessed, that
his soul had been, through a habit of impurity, in a
most wretched condition, but that upon hearing those
words, of God, by the prophet Isaias, read in the
church, (Be clean, take away the evil of your devices
from my eyes, cease to do perversely, learn to do well,
and then if your sins be as red as scarlet, they shall
be made white as snow. If you be willing, and ivill
hearken to me, you shall eat the good things of the
land ; but if you will not, and will provoke me to
wrath, the sword shall devour you, because the mouth
of the Lord hath spoken it), he found himself not
only strongly affected with a sense of the heinousness
of his sins, had a horror and compunction for them,
joined with a great love of the infinite goodness and
mercy of God, but had also firmly resolved on the
spot to renounce his evil ways, and dedicate himself
henceforward in good earnest to the love and service
of so good a God ; ail 1 that this had been the sub
ST. MACARIUS THE ELDER. 171
|ect of his thoughts and prayers during the -whole
time he was in church. Upon this declaration of
their penitent brother, all the monks that were pres
ent magnified the mercies of God, who so readily for
gives the greatest sinners, when, like the prodigal son,
they return to him with a contrite and humble heart
Whilst this whole passage, as recorded by our author,
is an instance of the wonderful efficacy of a perfect
contrition, in the speedy reconciliation it effects between
the sinner and God, it shows at the same time the
wonderful efficacy of the prayers and tears of our
Saint, which procured for this sinner the effectual
grace of a perfect contrition.
St. Paul the Simple is registered amongst the saints
in the Roman Martyrology on the seventh of March.
ST. MACARIUS THE ELDER.
From. Rufinua, chap. 28. Pa ladius, chap. 19, 20, and
other ancient Records.
THE lustre of the sanctity and miracles of this Saint
shine forth in an extraordinary manner in the history
of the primitive religious of the deserts of Egypt,
Besides one of the same name who attended on St
Antony the last fifteen years of his mortal life, sup-
172 ST. MACARIUS THE ELDER.
posed o be one of the two disciples that buried him,
of whom we know few other particulars, there were
also two others greatly celebrated by antiquity for
their sanctity and miracles, each of them cotempora-
ries with, if not also disciples of St. Antony, and both
honored with the priestly character : the elder, by some
authors sirnamed the Egyptian and the younger, the
Alexandrian, from the former being a native of Egypt,
and the latter of Alexandria.
Macarius the Elder, or the Egyptian, was born
about the year 300. Being as yet a youth, he retired
into a cell near his village, where he began to serve
God with such perfection as to be held in the highest
estimation by the whole neighborhood, and thought
worthy to be promoted by his bishop to the minor
orders. But his humility, seeking to decline the office
and ministry of a clerk, induced him to retire to a dis
tant solitude, where he might be at liberty, without let
or hinderance, to practice an anchoretical life; work
ing with his hands for his subsistence, whilst his heart
was in the mean time conversing with God. Here a
certain secular, of a religious disposition, observing the
penitential life he led, came in order to minister to
him, and assist him in selling his baskets. But as
great trials, in one shape or other, are commonly the
attendants or forerunr.ers of the most eminent sancti
ty, Macarius met with a very severe one, upon the fol
lowing occasion.
ST. MACARIUS THE E JDER. 173
A. young woman in the neighboring village was un
happily seduced and corrupted by a fellow of the neigh
borhood. On being found with child by her parents
and friends, and interrogated concerning the person
that had corrupted her, she by the suggestion of /he
devil, said it was by that hermit who passed for a
Saint, meaning Macarius. Upon this the whole town
Avas in an uproar, and going out, they dragged the
servant of God out of his cell into the village, where,
hanging pots and pans about his neck, they led him
through all the highways, crying aloud to all they
met : " This hermit is the villain that has seduced our
girl;" beating him at the same time in so unmerciful
a manner, that it was expected he would have died
under their hands ; nor did they desist, till at the re
monstrances of an old man whom they met, they con-
Dented to let him go, provided any responsible person
would become a surety for his maintaining the girl and
her child. His friend who had followed him all the
way, and been insulted on his account, for having
given testimony before to his sanctity, undertook to be
responsible for him ; and having delivered him out of
their hands, brought him back to his cell, where he
was now obliged to redouble his labors night and day
in making baskets, in order to have wherewithal not
only to procure food for himself, but also to furnish a
maintenance for the unhappy woman by whom he had
been thus basely calumniated. He bore this heavy cross
174 ST. MACARIUS THE ELDER.
with wonderful cheerfulness till the time the young
woman fell in labor, and suffered such extraordinary
pains for several days, without being able to be deliv
ered, as brought her to a sense of her crime, when she
acknowledged the wrong to Macarius, and declared
who was the real father of the child. This gladsome
O
news having presently come to the ears of the good
man, the friend of the Saint, he ran with great joy
to announce to him the joyful tidings, adding, that all
the people were coming out to beg his pardon for the
wrong they had done him. Macarius, on hearing this,
being more afraid of honor than of humiliations and
disgrace, would not wait for their coming, but present
ly withdrew himself into the desert of Scete, or Scithi,
being then about thirty years of age.
This desert, in which no man had dwelt before, was
of a vast extent, but so destitute of all the necessaries
of life, that it was hard to meet with even a drop of
water among the burning sands, and the little that
could be found, was of so very disagreeable a taste and
smell, as to render it unfit for use. Hither Macarius
went, by divine inspiration, to seek a solitude, to which
no way nor path conducted ; and here he began to
lay the foundation of that sublime perfection to which
God afterwards raised him, and to which many rthera
were raised by his means, who, in process of time,
followed him into this frightful wilderness, and put
themselves under his discfoline, whose number, in a
8T. MACARIUS THE ELDER. 175
short time, became very consideraUe, and amongst
whom were several eminent saints ; for such was the
general character of the solitaries of Scete, for the
austerity and sanctity of their lives, that they were
Wked upon by all the rest as models of religious per-
ection. Macarius had been -about ten years in this
desert, when the number of the brethren increasing,
it was thought necessary that a priest should be or
dained for them, to feed them both with the word of
God and the holy sacraments ; on which occasion the
Saint was obliged to accept of the priestly order and
to execute its functions amongst his religious ; being
already so far favored by divine grace, as to have re
ceived from God the power of casting out evil spirits,
and of working other wonderful miracles, together
with the spirit of prophecy, and a foreknowledge of
future events.
As an instance of his prophetic spirit, Palladius re
lates how he often forewarned his disciple John against
the spirit of covetousness, telling him, that if he did
not mortify his unhappy inclination to worldly pelf,
as he labored under the vice of Giezi, so he should
incur the punishment of Giezi. Which happened ac-
sordingly, when fifteen or twenty years after the
Saint s death, appropriating to himself what should
have been given to the poor, he was struck with the
leprosy in so terrible a manner, that there was not one
Kwn.1 place to be discovered in his body. The same
176 ST. MACARIUS THE ELDER.
author relates also several instances of bis power over
evil spirits, in casting them out, and destroying their
magical operations by bis prayers, as in the case of a
woman that was bewitched in so strange a manner as
to appear to herself and friends metamorphosed into
a mare, but was delivered by the Saint s pouring upon
her head some holy water which he had blessed. The
Saint, on sending her home, admonished her never to
neglect the public worship of the church, nor the fre-
quentation of the sacraments ; for that the enemy
could not have had this power over her, had she not.
for five weeks, kept away from the sacred mysteries.
Many were the miracles whereby God evinced the
sancity of his servant Macarius, and some of them of
the first magnitude. It happened that a murder was
committed in one of the places bordering upon the
wilderness wherein the man of God dwelt, and that
an innocent man was accused thereof, who fled for re
fuge to the cell of the Saint. The people having pur
sued him, and found him, were for binding him, and
carrying him off, in order to deliver him up to justice.
The man strongly pleaded his own innocence, protest
ing by all that was sacred, that he knew nothing of
the murder ; whilst they, on the contrary, insisted
upon taking him away, alledging, that they should be
called to an account themselves if they let him escape,
Macarius having enquired where they had buried the
murdered man, accompanied them to the place, when
ST. MACARIUS THE ELDER. 177
fcaeeling down by the grave, and invoking the name
of Jesus Christ, he said to the standers by ; " The
Lord will now show whether this man be guilty or
not." Then raising his voice, he called on the dead
man by his name, and conjured him, in the name of
Christ, to tell whether this was the man that had mur
dered him ; when Behold, a tremendous loud voice
was heard to issue from the grave, declaring that he
was not the man. Upon this all the by-standers,
struck with dread and astonishment, fell prostrate on
the ground, at the feet of the man of God, earnestly
requesting that he would put one question more to
the deceased, to learn from him by whom it was that
he had been murdered. "No," replied the Saint, "it
is enough for me to clear the innocent ; it is not my
business to detect the guilty ; for who knows, if he be
suffered to live longer, but he may have the grace to
do penance for his crime ? "
A certain heretic of the sect called Hieracites, a
branch of the Manichean heresy, coming into the wil
derness, endeavored not only to corrupt the brethren,
with his captious arguments, but had the temerity
also to attack Macarius upon the score of his faith in
the presence of many of the religious, and to oppose
to the solidity of the Saint s reasonings from m
Scripture, delivered with his usual meekness ana sim
plicity, a number of such frothy words and soDhisma
as are but too apt to impose upon the weak and ignr*
178 ST. MACARIUS THE ELDER.
rant. Wherefore the man of God, apprehending lest
the faith of the by-standers should be endangered on
this occasion, proposed instead of contend not in
words, for it is to no profit, but to the subversion
of the hearers, 2 Tim. ii. 14. that they should ^o
out to the burying place of the religious, and j-iU
the cause upon this issue,, viz. that he who covld
raise a dead man to life should be acknowledged to
be the teacher of God s truth, and consequently tlrvt
his faith should be followed. This proposal beirg
universally applauded, the heretic consented, provided
that Macarius should be first to make the trial. When
therefore they had arrived at the cemetery the Saint
prostrating himself on one of the graves, employed
some time in silent prayer ; and then lifting up his
eyes to heaven, he said : " Be pleased, Lord, to
make it manifest to all here present, which of us twc
holds the right faith, by restoring this dead man tc
life." With this having called the brother that had
been last buried by name, he presently answered ;
and upon opening the grave, by removing all the
earth that was laid upon him, was taken out alive anc*
presented to the man of God, to the great astonish
ment as well as confusion to the heretic, who immedi
ately fled away, and never durst show his face any
more in Scete.
But let us pass from the miracles of Macarius to
bis virtues. We find the eminent sanctity for which
8T. MACARIU5 THE ELDER. I Jfif
he has been so justly admired by all succeeding ages.
was built upon its true foundation, viz. a knowledge
and contempt of himself, united with a profound hu
mility, which was always apparent by his ever joyful
ly embracing humiliations, and flying from honors
and applause. Those were always his most welcome
guests who abused or ridiculed him most ; to such he
more freely opened himself, whereas he was ever silent.
and reserved with those who came, as many did, to
hear him speak of the things of God, or showed him
any particular marks of honor or esteem : this was so
generally known and observed that at length such as
came with a desire to hear his heavenly lessons, would
on purpose, begin their conversation, by telling him
the many ridiculous or wicked things of which they
had heard him to have been guilty in his youth, and
then they were sure to please him best. The devil
himself was obliged to acknowledge that it was the
humility of the Saint, and not his extraordinary aus
terities, that had kept him hitherto out of his reach.
Having appeared to him one day, as he was returning
to his cell, laden with palm-leaves for his work he en
deavored, but was not able, to strike him with a
sharp scythe which he held in his hand. Upon which
he cried out : " It is a hard case, Macarius, that i
should suffer so much from thee, and yet not be able
to hurt thee : whereas in point of fasting and watch
ing 1 , I do a great ieal mo.-e than thou dost ; fa
180 ST. MACARIUS THE ELDER.
though thou fastest and watchest often, yet sometimes
thou eatest and sleepest ; but as to me, I never eat,
nor close my eyes to sleep. Nevertheless, I acknowl-
ed^e there is one thing in which thou overcomest
me." " What is it ?" said the Saint, "Thy humili
ty," replied the devil : " Oh ! there is nothing else
conquers me." Whereupon the Saint, having stretch
ed forth his hand to heaven in prayer, the enemy
presently vanished.
The humility of the Saint was ever accompanied
with an extraordinary meekness : as these two sister-
virtues generally walk hand in hand. By this his ex
traordinary meekness he wrought greater wonders, in
conducting souls to God, than by any of his other
miracles. An instance hereof appears in the case of
a pagan priest, who having been incited to fury, by
the contemptuous treatment he had met with from
one of the religious, was not only appeased, but gain
ed over on the spot to Jesus Christ, by the mildness
and sweetness wherewith he was treated by St. Ma-
carius : insomuch, that he immediately quitted the
world to become a religious man, and gave occasion,
by his example, to the conversion of many other
pagans.
The humility of Macarius was also accompanied
with a wholesome fear of the divine justice, together
with a deep sense of, arid an extraordinary compunc
tion for his sins, which continued with him even to
ST. MACARIUS THE ELDTR. 181
the end of his life. In proof whereof, we read, that
shortly before his death, when the monks of Nitria
invited him to corne over to their mountain that they
might receive his blessing before he departed to tho
Lord, declaring, that otherwise they would all come
in a body to visit him ; he complied indeed with their
request ; but when the multitude of the brethren
were assembled about him, expecting to hear the word
of God from his mouth, instead of a sermon, he en
tertained them with a flood of tears, saying : " Let ua
weep, rny brethren, let us weep whilst we have time.
Let torrents of tears flow from our eyes to wash away
the stains of our sins, before we depart hence into
another world, where our tears will come too late, and
only serve to nourish the flames of our torments."
At these words, accompanied by the tears of the
Saint, all the congregation wept, and cast themselves
down on the ground, to beg the assistance of hk
prayers.
A certain brother desiring to know from the Saint
how he might secure the salvation of his soul : " Fly,"
said the man of God, " from the company of men
keep cl^e to thy cell, and there weep continually for
thy sins t and as the best penance for them, be equally
careful to <nortify thy tongue by keeping silence, as
thy belly, by fasting and abstinence." To the like
effect he s"vld one day to the brethren as they were
coming out of church after mass : " Fly, my brethren,
16
182 ST. MACARIUS THK ELDER.
fly." " Whither, father," said one of them, " wouldst
thou have us fly ? can we go farther from the world
than we are at present in this vast solitude ? " The
Saint put his finger to his tongue, and said, I mean
that we should fly from this ; and saying no more, he
entered into his cell, and there remained in silence and
recollection.
The prayers of St. Macarius were in a manner in
cessant, particularly in the mental and contemplative
way. He is said to have been often almost in an ec
stasy, ravished as it were out of himself, and for tho
greatest part of his time entertaining himself with God
in so absolute a state of insensibility, as to forget every
created object. That he might apply himself with
more freedom to God in prayer, he had made a pas
sage under ground from his cell, to a certain cave at
about half a furlong distance, to which he frequently
retired, and there kept himself concealed from all other
company, to the end he might be alone with God,
free from the interruption of the visits of the many
strangers who resorted to him on account of the great
reputation of his sanctity. He had, during five years,
been pressed by frequent thoughts to proceed further
iuto the desert to try what he should there discover ;
but as it was his maxim to do nothing rashly, he ex
amined well these suggestions, lest they should prove
to be temptations. The inclination, however, still con
tinuing, he concluded it to be God s holy will, and ac-
ST. MACARIUS THE ELDER. 1S3
tordingly following the call, he penetrated into the re
mote parts of the wilderness, where he found a lake
of water, and in it a small island, inhabited by two
solitaries, who had dwelt there for the space of forty
years, quite secluded from the conversation of mortals,
and in so great a state of perfection, that Macarius,
after having seen and conversed with them, according
to his humble way of thinking of himself, professed
to the religious of Nitria, who had some time after re
quested he would deliver a discourse of edification in
the monastery of Abbot Pambo, " that for his part he
was not worthy to be called a monk, but that he had
seen monks indeed : and that the lesson he had learnt
of them was, that to be a monk indeed, a man must
absolutely renounce every thing in this world, and
that if he thought himself too weak to practice this
renunciation, in the manner they did, he should return
back to his cell, there to sit and bewail his sins."
The zeal that Macarius had for his own spiritual
advancement, carried him also another time a fifteen
days journey from the desert of Scete, to visit St. An
tony, then residing on his mountain. When he ar
rived with his strength quite exhausted by the fatigue
of his long travelling through those burning sands, IIP,
knocked at the door of the Saint s cell : Antony com
ing forth, asked him who he was ? and upon his an
swering that he was Macarius, he went in again, and
abut the door ; for although he had a great desire fol
184 ST. MACARIUS THE ELDER.
A long time to see him, knowing his extraordinary
sanctity, yet he was willing to make this trial of his
patience and humility. Macarius remained at tho
door till Antony, thinking he had now sufficiently put
his patience to a trial, opened it to him ; and having
lovingly embraced him, entertained him with the best
that his cell could afford. In the evening, Antony
prepared a certain quantity of the leaves of palm-
trees for himself to work on at making of mats ; Ma-
cariiiS) was ever a lover of manual labor, and hated
idleness, desired to be employed in the same manner ;
and thus having sat down together, whilst they worked
with their hands, they entertained each other with
heavenly discourses and the praises of their great Mas
ter. In the morning Antony was surprised to behold
the quantity of matting that Macarius had made dur
ing the night ; and taking his hands he kissed them,
affirming, that there was much virtue in them. I
know not whether it -was upon this, or some other oc
casion, that he saw the Holy Spirit descend upon Ma
carius ; for I find it recorded of St. Antony, that he
himself declared he had seen the Holy Ghost descend
upon three eminent servants of God, who in their lives
appeared to be in an extraordinary manner replenished
with his graces, and that these three were, St, Atha-
uasius, St. Pachomius, and St. Macarius.
As to the penitential exercises practised by St. Ma
carius and his disciples the solitaries of Scete, they aj>
ST. MACARIUS THE ELDER. 185
pear more the objects of our admiration than of our
imitation, especially in the point of fasting ; for we
read in some ancient writers, that it was their custom
to eat but once in the week ; but as to St. Macarius
himself, he told his disciple Evargius upon occasion of
his complaining of a violent thirst which he felt in the
excessive noonday heat of the Egyptian climate, that
for his own part he had never for twenty years sat
isfied, himself either in point of eating, or drinking,
or sleeping; that he always weighed out the small
quantity of bread he eat ; that he always drank his
water by measure ; and instead of lying down, leaned
always against a wall, when he stole, as it were, the
little sleep which he could not absolutely dispense
with.
But if he was so perfectly mortified in his eating,
drinking and sleeping, we may truly say he was as
much, or more so with respect, not only to his pas
sions, but his whole interior, and that he himself prac
tised diligently the excellent lessons he had so often
taught his disciples. He used frequently to say, that
he only was a true monk, who overcame himself in all
things : that the way to escape the death of the soul
fey sin, was to receive and embrace contempt like
praise, poverty like riches, and hunger and ivant, like
plenty and feasting. A young man having once ad
dressed himself to our Saint, desiring to learn of him
the practice of religious perfection, he sent him to *
(88 ST. MACARIUS THE ELDER.
place where there were a great many dead bodies, and
bid him treat them with reviling, scornful language,
and such other like affronts and injuries, and even to
pelt them with stones to try if he could provoke them
to passion. Having done as he was ordered, when he
returned back, the Saint asked him how the dead had
received all those outrages, and what they had said ?
He answered that they had said nothing. On the
day following he sent him again, and bid him treat
them with honor, with fine speeches and commenda
tions, and then see how they would behave ; and as
they still remained equally insensible both to his good
and mal-treatment, the Saint told him, that if he would
be a perfect religious man, he must follow their ex
ample, and neither suffer himself to be provoked to
anger or resentment by ill treatment, nor to be puffed
up with the esteem or praises of men, but always to
have his eye on Jesus Christ, and seek to please him
only.
St. Macarius had now arrived at the age of seventy-
six, when a violent persecution was raised against all
the religious by Lucius the Arian, who, after the death
of St. Athanasius, had usurped the see of Alexandria,
by the fav\x of the emperor Valens. This unhappy
man, finding the monks in general averse to his wick
ed tenets, and the people very much influenced by
their example, to adhere to the catholic faith, led out
a multitude of soldiers into the deserts, in order ta
ST. MACARIUS THE ELDER. 187
oblige these servants of God, by all manner of cruel
ties, to renounce the ancient faith. A great number
of the solitaries of mount Nitria were martyred on this
occasion, and a vast multitude of other religious, to
gether with many bishops, priests, and deacons, were
Bent into banishment. Amongst these were Macarius,
and his name-sake, the other St. Macarius, of Alexan
dria, St. Isidore, of Scete, and St. Pambo, the holy
abbot of Nitria ; who, by the orders of Lucius, were
taken out of their cells privately in the night, and car
ried away into a certain island in E^ypt, which was
inhabited only by pagans, to the end that they might
have no opportunity of exercising their priestly func
tions, nor meet with any comfort or support from any
one. There was in this island an ancient temple of
the devils, for which the inhabitants had so great a
veneration, that it was this that kept them in their
idolatry. But behold the wonders of God ! as soon
as the boat that brought the saints thither drew near
the land, the devils who inhabited the temple were all
in an uproar, and one of them presently entered into
the daughter of the priest of the temple, whom the
people venerated almost as much as their god, and
caused in her strange and violent agitations and con
tortions, accompanied with such loud shrieks and cries
as reached the very heavens, and drew all the people
about her. In this condition she ran about amongst
the people, falling down sometimes and rolling herseli
188 ST. MACARIUS THE ELDER.
on the ground, foaming and gnashing with her teeth,
till all of a sudden she was lifted up into the air, and
carried to the place where the saints by this time were
set on shore, the people all following to see what would
become of her. Here she fell down at the feet of
Macarius and his companions, and cried out (the
devil speaking by her mouth, as he did heretofore by
the girl at Philippi, Acts xvi.) " Ah ! ye servants of
Jesus Christ, how terrible is your power ! ye servants
of the great God, why do you come to drive us away
from a place of which we have so long kept possession !
Here have we hidden ourselves, after we were expelled
from the rest of the land ; for you have banished us
from the towns and villages, from the mountains and
hills, and even from the places where none before you
durst inhabit. We expected to be quiet at least in
this little island, in the midst of bogs and marshes,
and now you come to deprive us of our last refuge,"
&c. Whilst the devil was uttering these and other
similar words, by the mouth of the girl, the Saints, on
their part, made use of the power their Lord had con
ferred on them, and commanded the devil, by the sa
cred and awful name of Jesus Christ, the Son of God,
to depart out from her ; whilst he, unable to resist,
was immediately constrained to obey, and left the girl
stretched out OL the ground as if dead. The Sainta
prayed for her, and lifting her up from the ground,
oresented her to her father in perfect health, both 01
ST. MACARIUS THE ELDER. 139
mind and body. Then taking occasion from what had
passed, they began to preach Jesus Christ to the peo
ple, already disposed, by the miracl.3 they had seen,
to hearken to their words ; and so great was the bless
ing God gave to their preaching, that instantly both
the priest himself, with his daughter, and all his kin
dred, cast themselves down at the feet of these new
apostles, desiring to learn of them what they must do
to be saved. All the people of the island, by their
example, were immediately converted to Jesus Christ,
and embraced the faith with so much fervor, that they
presently demolished their temple which they had be
fore so much revered built up a church in its place,
and after proper instructions received baptism. Thus
the expulsion of these servants of God contributed to
the propagation and illustration of the faith for which
they were banished, and to the confusion of their ene
mies and persecutors, who, upon receiving the news
of what had passed, gave orders to have them removed
again out of the island, and privately conveyed back
to their former solitudes.
St. Macarius outlived this persecution many years ;
and after having attained the age of ninety, sixty of
which he spent in the wilderness, he passed to the en
joyment of his God about the year 390 or 391. His
name is recorded among the Saints in the Eoman Mar-
tyrology on the fifteenth of January.
There are extant in the Bibliotlieca SS.
100 ST. MACAKIUS OF ALEXANDRIA.
fifty homilies, or discourses of piety, which St. Maca-
rius made to his religious on several occasions, truly
worthy of his spirit and sanctity.
ST. MACARIUS OF ALEXANDRIA,
From. Palladium, Bishop of Helenopolis, some time dis
ciple of the Saint, Historia Lav.siaca, chap. 19, Ru.fi.nu*
and others
ST. MACARIUS, commonly called the Alexandrian, to
distinguish him from the other St. Macarius, of whom
we have been just treating, was born at Alexandria
about the beginning of the fourth century. In his
younger days he endeavored to obtain an honest live
lihood by selling fruit, sweetmeats, and such like wares,
till being called by God to greater perfection, he for
sook all things to follow Christ in an anchoretical life,
and put himself under the direction of St. Antony, in
srder to learn from so great a master the true science
of the saints. The progress he made in this school oi
grace, was so extraordinary, that he became qualified
to instruct many others in the way of perfection, as
St. Antony himself saw and acknowledged, when one
day Macarius being with him, and asking him for
some beautiful palm-branches, which ho kept for hia
ST. MAtfARIUS OF ALEXANDRIA. 191
work, be told him it was written : Thou shall not
covet thy neighbor s goods : at which words the palm-
branches in an instant actually withered away, and
grew quite as dry as if they had been touched by the
fire, which St. Antony, seeing, told Macarius that he
perceived the Spirit of God had taken up his abode ic
his soul ; and that from this time forward he should
look upon him as the heir and successor of all those
graces and gifts which the divine bounty had bestow
ed upon himself.
Shortly after the devil seeing him in his wilderness
exceedingly fatigued with travelling, and quite ex
hausted for want of food, suggested to him, since you
have received the grace of Antony, why do not you
make use of his power, and ask the necessary supply
of food and strength from God, that you may be en
abled to pursue your journey ? The Saint replied :
" The Lord is my strength the Lord is my glory ;
but as for thee, Satan, be gone, and don t presume to
tempt one that is determined to be the servant of his
divine Majesty." The devil upon this assumed the
shape of a camel that appeared to be wandering
about the desert, laden with all kinds of necessaries
for life, and coming up he stood near to the Saint,
who suspecting it to be a diabolical illusion, prayed
to God, and presently the phantom sunk into the
earth, and disappeared.
From the desert of Thebais, where St. Antony re
192 ST. MACARIUS OF ALEXANDRIA.
sided, Macarius passed to that of Scete, and partly
there ox on mount Nitria, or in the neighboring wil
derness called Cellia, or the place of the cells, he
spent the greatest part of his mortal life. In this last
place he was, on account of his eminent sanctity, or
dained priest, and in that quality had the charge of
the church, and the superiority and direction of all the
saintly souls that lived dispersed in separate cells
throughout that holy solitude. Here his virtues shin-
O "
ed forth with such extraordinary lustre and miracles,
as to make him be looked upon, both then and ever
since, as one of the brightest lights of the Church of
God in his time, and on that account he had also a
great share in the persecution which fell in a particu
lar manner upon the religious of these quarters, under
Valens the Arian emperor ; when he was also, as we
have seen above, sent into banishment with some
other servants of God, who had miraculously convert
ed the inhabitants of the island to which they were
banished from idolatry to the faith of Christ.
As to the employment of his time in these wilder
nesses, we find he distributed it in such manner, ao
to spend the best part of it in prayer, in which he ex
ercised himself a hundred times in the space of every
twenty-four hours ; another part-he dedicated to man
ual labor, in order to obtain his livelihood : and the
remainder he gave to those that came to consult him
about the affairs of their souls, and to receive his in-
ST. MACARIUS OF ALEXANDRIA. 10&
structions. In the mean time, the austerities of tho
penitential life to which he condemned himself were
so great, that we may truly say, they were more to be
admired than imitated. His fasts were long and rig
orous : for seven years he never eat anything but
raw herbs or pulse, moistened with cold water, with
out bread, or any thing whatever that had come near
the fire. For three years more he lived only upon
four or five ounces of bread in the day, with water in
proportion. Once, for the space of twenty days, ho
labored to live without any sleep whatever ; and to
this purpose, during all that time, he never entered
under any cover, but exposed himself the whole day
to the parching heat of the sun, and all the night
abroad to the cold air, till unable to hold out any
longer, he was at tength constrained to yield to na
ture. At another lime, to punish himself for a small
fault, or as others say, no fault, but to extinguish a
temptation of the flesh, he condemned himself to
pass six whole months in the marshes of Scete, in the
remote parts of the dec<ert, infested, by a number of
large gnats with stings like wasps ; by which, during
his course of penance, he was so roughly treated, and
stung in so terrible a manner, that at his return home
his whole body appeared like that of a leper, and he
could only be known by his voice.
The reputation of the extraordinary austerities, and
the excellent lives of the religious of Tabenna, under
17
fH ST. MACARKS OF ALEXANDRIA.
their holy founder St. Pachomius, inspired Macar- w
with a desire of going- thither and joining their holy
company, yet so as not to be known who or what he
was. In order thereto, having changed his habit for
the dress of a common laborer, he travelled fifteen
days journey through the deserts till at length he ar
rived at the monastery of Tabenna. Here calling for
the Abbot St. Fachomius, he begged to be admitted
amongst his monks. The abbot told him, that at his
time of life he could not be able to conform himself to
the austerities which were practised in his monastery,
and therefore refused to admit him. Macarius how
ever did not desist, but continued seven days at the
gate, begging for admission, and fasting the whole
time, till his perseverance prevailed with the abbot and
community to receive him. Arid now the penitential
time of Lent arrived, in which the religious assigned
to themselves the particular exercises of devotion and
penance in which they designed to pass that holy
time : some of them resolving to eat but once in two
days, others only twice in a week, others again,
after spending the whole day in manual labor, propos
ing to watch and pass the night in prayer without
ever lying down to take their rest. Macarius for hi?
part said nothing ; but gathering together a large pro
vision of the leaves of the palm-trees for making mats,
passed the whole time standing at work in a corner by
himself, with his heart raised to God in silent prayer
ST. MACARIUS OF ALEXANDRIA. 105
without once sitting down or leaning against any thing
whatever. He eat only on the Lord s day, and thon
nothing but some raw leaves of cabbage, without bread
or any thing else, or even drinking any liquid whatso
ever The rest of the religious observing him to prac
tice these extraordinary austerities, began to murmur
against their abbot for having admitted amongst them,
for their condemnation, a man that seemed not to be
made of flesh and blood ; whereupon St. Pachomius,
who was frequently favored with divine revelations,
applying himself to God in prayer, with a desire to
know 7 who this person was that had passed the Lent
in so extraordinary a manner, learnt from God that it
was the Abbot Macarius, of whose sanctity he had
heard so much. Whereupon taking him by the hand,
and leading hirn into the chapel before the altar of
the monastery, he said : " Is it then you, venerable
Father ? Are you the celebrated Macarius, and would
not let me know it ! As it is a long time since I have
had a desire to see you, now I must return you thanks
for the stay you have made amongst us, by which you
have humbled my children, and taught them not to
think much of their own austerities. You have suffi
ciently edified us by your presence, I beg of you, there
fore, to return home and pray for us." And thus dis
missed the Saint, requesting him to go back to his
former habitation.
But if these rigorous penances and extraordinary
19* ST. MACfARIUS OF ALEXANDRIA.
austerities of St. Macarius may seem to be beyond the
reach of our imitation, we cannot say as much with
respect to the following instance of the spirit, as well
of mortification as of charity, which both himself and
his brethren showed upon a less occasion, as recorded
in the history of his life. Some one having sent him
a fine bunch of grapes at a time when he had a long
ing desire after that kind of fruit, in order to exercise
himself at once both in abstinence and charity, he sent
them to another solitary, who being sick and infirm
stood more in need of them. The good sick man, after
thankfully receiving the present, which, had he follow
ed his own inclinations, he would gladly have eaten,
through the same spirit of mortification and charity,
refrained from eating them, and sent them to a third
who lived at some distance in the wilderness, the third
again in like manner to a fourth ; and so on till they
had passed from one to another of most of the inhabit
ants of the cells dispersed through the desert, without
any one ever tasting them. At length he who receiv
ed them last, not knowing from whom they first came,
and thinking they might be agreeable to their holy
father, sent them to St. Macarius. The Saint perceiv
ing the grapes to be the very same, and learning also
upon inquiry through how many hands they had pass
ed, gave God thanks for that spirit of abstinence and
self-denial which his brethren had showed on this oc
casion ; and for his own part was animated thereby to
ST. MACARIUS OF ALEXANDRIA. 197
A greater fervor in all the exercises of a spiritual life,
but nevertheless could not be induced to eat of the
grapes himself.
As to the miracles of our Saint, church history as
sures us, that the two Saints Macarius were equally
illustrious, not only for the works of faith, but also for
the miraculous graces, and other supernatural gifts
wherewith God favored them ; that they equally ex
celled in the knowledge of the secrets of God, in the
power they had to make themselves terrible to the
devils, to cure diseases, and work all kinds of won
ders. It is particularly recorded of our Saint, that he
had an extraordinary grace in casting out unclean
spirits, and delivering numbers that were either possess
ed or assaulted by them. The tempter one day took
occasion from thence to suggest to him thoughts of
vain-glory, which tended to withdraw him from his
solitude, under the specious pretext of doing good to
many, and to carry him to Rome, that he might exer
cise his talents in casting out devils, and curing all
diseases in the capital of the universe. Macarius saw
through the deceit, and strongly resisted the sugges
tion : and as the temptation did not cease, but rather
acquired additional strength, he laid himself prostrate
on the threshold of his cell, and cried out to the demon
of vain-glory, by whom he was tempted, that he would
remain there till the evening ; and that if he would
remove him from thence, it should be by main force,
198 ST. MACARIUS OF ALEXANDRIA.
for that with his good will he would never go,
violently soever he might tempt him. After sun-set
finding the temptation returning again with more vio
lence than ever, he took a large basket that held two
bushels, and filling it with sand, laid it on his should
trs, and being loaded in this manner, walked up and
down in the desert. Theosebius, surnamed Cosmetor,
a native of Antioch, having met him whilst he was at
this exercise, said : " What is the meaning of this, holy
father? Why do you thus torment yourself? Let
me ease you of your burthen." Macarius replied : " I
am plaguing one that is plaguing me : and who, see
ing that I am lazy at home, will needs have me go
and travel abroad :" and thus he continued carrying
about his load of sand, till being quite wearied and
spent, and all bruised with his burthen, he returned to
his cell.
As to the particulars of the many miracles wrought
by St. Macarius, we shall not pretend to recount them
here : we shall only take notice of one recorded by
Palladius, of which he was an eye-witness. This* pre
late relates, that being at that time himself a disciple
of the Saint, he came one day to his cell, and found
there lying before the door, a priest of a country pa
rish, in the most wretched condition that can be ima
gined ; his head being eaten in such a manner by a
cancer, that a great part of his skull was seen quite
bare. lie came hither to seek his cure from the
ST. MACARIUS OF ALEXANDRIA. 190
Baint, who would take no notice of him whatsoever.
Upon which Palladius going* in, began to intercede for
him. The Saint answered, that he was unworthy to
be delivered from this evil, which God had sent him
for a punishment. " But," said he, " if you desire he
should be cured, prevail on him to resolve never more
to presume to approach the altar to celebrate the sa
cred mysteries. For this punishment has been sent
him on account of being guilty of acts of impurity,
arid saying mass in that sinful condition." Palladius
told the poor man what the Saint had said ; when
upon his promising with an oath never more to exer
cise any of the priestly functions, the Saint received
him into his cell, and after he had confessed his sins,
with a sincere resolution of never more returning to
them, he laid his hands upon him, and in a few days
ient him home perfectly cured and glorifying God.
As to the other extraordinary gifts and graces of
St. Macarius, it is recorded of him that he frequently
s?;iw in spirit, not only the state of the souls of his re-.
ligious at the time of their communion, but also their
inward thoughts and dispositions in the time of prayer.
One night the devil knocked at his cell, crying out ;
" Arise, abbot Macarius, that we may accompany the
brethren to midnight prayers." The Saint knowing,
by the light of God, that it was the enemy, replied :
" And what hast thou to do, O lying spirit, thou ene-
aiy of all truth, with the assembly of the Saints, 01
200 ST. MACARIUS OF ALEXANDRIA.
their night prayers ? " " Assure thyself,
replied the devil, " that the religious never meet to
pray without us : Come along, and thou shalt see/
The Saint having previously prayed to God that he
might know whether what the devil vaunted of was
true or not, went to the place where the brethren were
assembled for the night office ; and at the time they
were reciting the psalms, saw a number of these wick
ed spirits in the shape of filthy blackamoors, running
about the church, and playing a variety of tricks, with
a view either to distract the religious, or overcome
them with sleep ; and when, after the twelve psalms
were ended, they prostrated themselves in silent prayer,
he perceived how busy they were about them, repre
senting to one the figure of a woman, to another a
building or a journey, and to others a prodigious
variety of such like phantoms and images. Now
there were some of the brethren who seemed to drive
them away by a superior force, and to fling them
down upon their backs with so much violence that
they durst not approach them any more ; whilst
Dthers, more indolent and negligent, suffered them to
ride upon their heads and shoulders, and to make a
mockery of them at pleasure. The Saint being much
moved with this spectacle, addressed himself to God,
with many tears, in behalf of his religious, begging
he would deliver them from all the snares and deceits
of these spirits of darkness : using these words of the
ST. MACAEIUS OE ALEXANDRIA. 2CI
ruyK! prophet, Ps. Ixvii. Let God arise, a!-J let his
enemies be scattered : and let them that hate him flee
from before his face. After the prayers were ended,
calling to him the brethren, he found upon enquiring
of each one in particular that had been so distracted
with those vain or wicked imaginations which tha
Saint had seen represented to them by those blacks ;
hence they came to understand that those distracting
thoughts, which so often interrupt the attention and
devotion of the soul at the divine office or other
prayers, are illusions of the wicked spirit: and that
the best way to repel them and keep them at a dis
tance, is to watch over ourselves, and to keep our
souls closely united to God by a fervent application of
all its powers and faculties.
It is also recorded of St. Macarius, that being one
day in company with the other Saint of the same
name, and obliged to pass over the Nile in a barge
that served for that purpose, i\. happened that two
tribunes or colonels were ferried over at the same
time, each having a pompous equipage and great ret
inue to attend him. These officers beholding the two
Saints in their mean garb at one end of the barge,
with all that sererity, recollection, and interior peace
of mind, which seemed apparent in their faces, to
gether with a sovereign contempt of all that this
world admires, could not help extolling to each other
the happiness of such a kind of life as that which
202 ST. MACARIUS OF ALEXANDRIA.
these servants of God led. Accordingly one of them
addressing himself to the Saints, said : " You are both
happy, who are thus above the world, and tread it
under your feet. You speak as if it were by a pro
phetic light," replied our Saint, "in calling us kappy,
for the name of both of us is Macarius, which in the
Greek signifies happy. But if you have great reason
to say, that they who have renounced all things else
to consecrate themselves entirely to the service of God
are happy, inasmuch as they tread the world under
their feet, we have also great reason to compassionate
your happiness, in being slaves to the world, and suf
fering yourselves to be mocked by it." These words
of the Saint made so deep an impression upon him,
that on his return home he resigned his commission,
distributed his substance to the poor, and quitting
the world, embraced a solitary and religious life.
We shall conclude our account of the life of St.
Macarius with a remarkable history, recorded by St.
Jerome, of a certain solitary of Nitria, who by the
price of his work, which was making linen-cloth, had
saved so much money, that when he died there was
fijund by him the sum of one hundred crowns. The
religious assembled on this extraordinary occasion to
deliberate what should be done with the money;
which some thought should be given to the poor or
to the church, and others to the kindred of the de
ceased. But Macarius, our Saint, Pambo, Isidore, and
SS. ISIDORE AND PAMBO. 203
others who were called the fathers, being inspired bj
the Holy Ghost, ordained that they should cast the
money into the grave together with the corpse, repeat
ing those words of St. Peter to Simon Magus, Keep ih* y
fnoney to thyself, to perish with thee. And this whole
some severity spread such a terror amongst all the
religious of Egypt, that they looked upon it as a
crime for any one of there +o leave so much as ono
crown behind them after death.
St. Macarius, after having served God for sixty years
in a religious life, departed to our Lord about the year
395. His name is registered in the Roman Marty r-
ology on the second of January.
SS. ISIDORE AND PAMBO.
WE join these two together, and give them a place
immediately after St. Macarius, with whom, as we
have seen above, they are joined by St. Jerome, as
having been inspired by the Holy Ghost, and the most
eminent in their days amongst the fathers of the des-
wts ; with whom also, as well as with the otber St
Macarius, they are celebrated by all our church histo
rians, for the brave stand they made against the Avian
heresy, under Valens the emperor ; the persecutions
they suffered on this occasion, the emin^ce of their
104 88. ISIDORE AND PAMBO.
sanctity ; and finally, on account of the great signa
and wonders which God wrought by them. They
were each of them, for some time, disciples of St. An
tony, and afterwards on account of their extraordinary
virtues and merits, advanced to the priestly dignity
and made chief superiors; Isidore of the relfgious of
the desert of Scete, and Pambo of those of mount
Nitria.
It is recorded of St. Isidore, that he received so sin
gular a grace from God, and had so great a power and
authority over evil spirits, that whenever any possessed
persons were brought to him, they never failed to be
delivered, even before they reached the door of his
cell. The brethren having asked him one day, what
could be the reason why the devils were so much afraid
of him ; he alledged no other, than that from the time
of his entering into religion he had made it his con
stant endeavor not to suffer the passion of anger to
rise up so high as to reach his tongue. As a proof
of his zeal for suppressing in himself the least emotion
to this passion, we are informed by an ancient writer,
that having one day carried some little baskets to
*narket for sale, upon meeting there with some provo
cation, which began to excite in his heart emotions 01
anger and wrath, he immediately flung down his bas
kets, and ran back as fast as he could to the wilder
ness. By this diligence in watching against, and sup
pressing all the irregular motions and suggestions of
SS. ISIDORE AND PAMBO. 205
his passions, and by the aid of incessant prayer, he
attained so great a mastery over himself as to acknow
ledge one day, to the greater glory of God, that fof
the space of forty years, though he had often expe
rienced the motions and suggestions of sin, he was not
conscious to himself that he had ever given his volun
tary consent, either to an irregular desire or the least
emotion of wrath.
From his first entering into religion, instead of set
ting himself a task, as many did, of reciting daily a
certain number of psalms or prayers, he chose rather
to pray, without ceasing, night and day; and yet he
was always so great a lover of manual labor, that after
he was grown very old he could not be prevailed upon
to give over working even at night; and when the
brethren, upon these occasions, would sometimes beg
that he would afford himself a little more rest, he re
plied, that all he could do or suffer was nothing in
comparison of what the Son of God had done and
suffered for him, and he therefore thought he could
never do nor suffer enough for the love of his Saviour.
He one day addressed himself thus to the assembly
*f the Solitaries of Scete : " Have we not retired
hither, my brethren, in order to suffer many labors
and pains in the body, by the means of which we may
merit everlasting rest for our souls in heaven ; and yet
how little do we suffer here at present ? For my part
I think of taking my sheep-skin, and seeking some
206 BS. ISIDORE AND PAMBO.
other place, where I may f.nd something more to suf
fer." This he said, because at this time the number
of those that resorted to this desert gave occasion to
the introducing of certain conveniences of life, and
some better accommodations than they had been ac
customed to in the beginning, when they were in a
manner quite destitute of every thing.
" It is also recorded as a maxim of St. Isidore,
" That the whole science of the Saints consists in
knowing and following the will of God ; because then
only can a man be perfect indeed, when raising him
self above all other things he subjects himself to the
eternal Truth and Justice. For since man was made
after the image and likeness of God, who is that same
eternal Truth and Justice, he cannot expect to meet
with either perfection or happiness, only in a conform
ity with his divine original. On the other hand, he
said, that the most dangerous of all temptations was
to follow the suggestions of our own hearts and
thoughts, instead of the will of God ; that the plea
sure which a man pretends to find in the gratification
of his own inclinations is quickly changed into bitter
ness, and leaves nothing behind but the regret of hav-
\n<r been ignorant of the secret of true beatitude, and
3 O
of the way of the Saints. From whence he concludes,
that the true way to happiness consists in being will
ing to labor and take pains in the service of the Lord,
tno in patiently suffering the short tribulations of this
88. ISIDOIJE AND PAMBO. 207
life, in order to secure the eternal salvation of OUT
souls."
This Saint had also a special talent from God of
healing the spiritual maladies of the religious when
any of them were diseased in their souls ; insomuch
that whenever it happened that the other superiors were
for dismissing any of their subjects, on account of neg
ligence, sloth fulness, impatience, passion, or other de
fects, he desired they might be brought to him : when,
by treating them with his usual charity, humility, and
patience, he generally brought them to a right sense
of their duty, and in time cured them effectually of
all their vices and faults of what kind soever.
When Theophilus was made patriarch of Alexan
dria, anno 385, St. Isidore went thither to pay him a
visit. On his return from thence to the wilderness,
the brethren enquired of him, what news he brought
from the city ? " I have seen nobody there," he re
plied, " but the patriarch." Being much surprised at
his answer, they asked him, " What then was become
of the inhabitants of that great city ? Surely," said
they, " they are not all swallowed up by an earth
quake." This obliged him to explain himself, by let
ting them know that he had kept so strict a guard
over his eyes, as not to allow them to look upon any
one.
St. Isidore departed to our Lord shortly after, in a
good old age, though the particular year is not known.
208 ST. PAMBO.
and his name stands recorded in the Roman Martyr
ology on the fifteenth of January.
Amongst several great men of the name of Isidore,
there was another, a contemporary with our Saint,
who was abbot in Thebais, over a thousand monks in
great reputation for sanctity, and under such strict en
closure that none of them were ever allowed to go
out, nor any from abroad permitted to enter the mon
astery, except he came to remain during life, never
more to depart from it. They had gardens and wells
within their own enclosure ; and when there was a
necessity of any thing from abroad, two of the an
cients were deputed to provide such necessaries, all
the rest attending only to their regular exercises.
But to come to St. Pambo : it is recorded of him,
that being in his younger days a disciple of St. An
tony, he desired his master to instruct him in the
most efficacious manner of saving his soul ; St. An
tony told him, that in order to do this, he must be
careful to do true penance for his sins ; that he must
never place any confidence whatsoever in his own
righteousness ; that he must always endeavor to act
in such manner, as to never after have any occasion
to repent of what he had done ; and that in par
ticular he must labour to put a restraint as well upon
Lis tongue as upon his appetite.
In those days he also applied himself to another of
the religious to be instructed in some of the psalins,
ST. PAMBO. 209
This brother began with the thirty-eighth Psalm : 1
said I will take heed to my ways, that I sin not with
my tongue; which words Pambo had no sooner
heard, but without waiting for the second verse, he
retired to his cell, saying, it was enough for one les
son, and that he would go and endeavor to learn it in
practice. Six months afterwards the brother, finding
that he did not apply to him for any more lessons,
asked him the reason why he staid away so long from
him. brother, said he, I have not yet perfectly
learnt to practice the first verse which you taught me.
Many years after this, one of his friends asked, if he
had not now at least learnt his lesson? To whom
he replied, that it was with much difficulty he could
yet reduce it to practice, notwithstanding his nineteen
years application. However, by his perpetual atten
tion not to offend in his words, he arrived at length
at so great perfection in this particular, that he is
thought in this to have equalled if not excelled St.
Antony himself. When any one consulted him,
either upon any passage of the scripture, or any other
spiritual matter, he never would answer upon the spot,
but desired time to consider of it. Sometimes he
employed whole months on these occasions in examin
ing before God what answer he should give ; but
then, the answers he returned carried with them so
much weight, and were so holy, that they were receiv-
nl by all like oracles dictated by heaven.
210 ST. PAMBO.
St. Pambo did not* continue always x.Kh ^. An
tony ; but leaving Thebais, he took up i ^ il>oda,
either in the desert of Scete, as some say, or n thai
of Nitria, where he had a monastery on Ilia nioun-
tain. He was also for some time in the wi/de/p.esa of
the Cells, where, Rufinus says, he went to receive hi/
benediction, anno 374. As to his exterior practices,
St. Pemen used to relate, that he had remarked three
things in St. Pambo, which he judged to be very ex
traordinary, viz. his fasting on all days till the evening,
his continual silence, and his great diligence in
manual labors. He also related that St. Antony had
given testimony in favor of St. Pambo, that the fear
of God which posssessed his soul, had induced the
Spirit of God to take up his resting place with him.
The eminent grace of his interior is said to have
broke forth and discovered itself in his exterior, by
a certain brilliant majesty in his countenance, like
what we read of Moses, so that a person could not
look steadfastly on his face. He often earnestly beg
ged of God, during the space of three years, that he
would cease to glorify him in this manner upon earth ;
but his divine Majesty, instead of attending to his
prayers in this particular, chose rather to establish so
profound a humility in his soul, as not to be altered or
any ways prejudiced by this glory.
St. Athanasius once desired St. Pambo to come
from his desert to Alexandria, in order that by th
ST. PAMBO. 211
testimony of so holy a man to the divinity of Jesus
Christ he might confound the Arians : upon whicV
occasion it is recorded of him, that seeing an actress
in that city dressed up in an extraordinary manner for
he stage, he wept bitterly : and being asked the rea-
on of his tears, he answered that he wept partly for
the wretched condition of the soul of that unhappy
woman, and partly to think that on his part he did
not take so much pains to please God as she took to
make herself agreeable to sinful man.
Palladius relates, in the tenth chapter of his Histo-
ria Lausiaca, that Melania the elder, a noble Roman
lady, on coming into Egypt, and hearing of the sanc
tity of St. Pambo, went to visit him in his monastery
on mount Nitria, taking with her three hundred
pounds weight of silver, which she presented to him,
desiring he would accept of some part of the store
with which God had blessed her. The holy man
was sitting at his work making mats when she came
in, accompanied with Isidore, the administrator of the
hospital of Alexandria ; and without interrupting his
work, or looking at either her or her present, he con
tented himself with telling her, God would reward her
charity. Then turning to his disciple, he said : " Take
this, and distribute it amongst the brethren that are in
Lybia and in the islands, whose monasteries are tho
most poor of all ; but give no part of it to the monas
teries of Egypt, because this country is more rich, and
212 ST. PAMBO.
abounds more in all things." The lady stood still,
expecting that he would give her his benediction, or
express at least his esteem for so considerable a pres
ent, by word or other sign ; but seeing that he went
on with his work, without once casting so much as an
eye towards the chest of money which she had given
him, she said to him : " Father, I do not know wheth
er you are aware that here is three hundred pounds
weight of silver ?" " Daughter," said he, without once
taking off his eye from his work, " he to whom you
make this offering, knows very well how much it
weighs, without, your telling him. If indeed you had
given it to me, you might have had some reason to
inform me of its weight ; but if you designed it as an
offering to God, who did not disdain, but even prefer
red the poor widow s two mites before the large offer
ings of the rich, do not say any more about it." This
passage Melania herself related to Palladius.
When Theophilus was made patriarch of Alexan
dria, he went to visit the religious of mount Nitria,
who were all assembled on this occasion to do honor
to the patriarch. They desired St. Pambo, as their
superior, to make some discourse to this prelate, with
which liejniglit be edified : the holy abbot, agreeably
to his maxims and practice, replied, " If he is not edi
fied by my silence, I shall never edify him by my
words." The Saint did not long survive this visit :
Melania was present at his death, to whom he be-
ST. PAMBO. 21 J
queathed, by way of legacy, a basket which he had at
that time just finished. When he was near his end,
he blessed God, that from the time of his first coming
into the wilderness of Nitria, and built himself a cell,
he had never been burthensome to any one, having
always earned his bread with the labor of his own
hands ; and that he could not recollect a word he had
spoken of which he had afterwards cause to repent :
nevertheless, said he, I am now going to the Lord as
one that hath not yet begun to serve him. He ex
pired without any sickness, pain, or the least fever or
agony. Melania took charge of his burial, and carried
away the basket he had given her, which she kept till
her death.
There was also another abbot Pambo, or rather
Pammon, whose monastery was in the neighborhood
of Antinoe, greatly esteemed by St. Athanasius, who,
together with St. Theodore, the disciple and successor
of St. Pachomius, in the monastery of Tabenna, ac
companied this Saint when he fled from the persecu
tion of Julian, and who, together with the same St.
Theodore, assured him on this occasion, by prophetic
light, that his persecutor was now actually slain in
Persia, and had for his r 5 uccessor in the empire one
that was a good Christian, but whose reign should be
short : all which proved to be actually true. This
holy man departed not long after to our Lord, full of
years and good works ; and St. Athanasius, in a dis<
214 ST. JULIAN S ABB AS.
i
course he made in the great cimrch of Alexandria, in
the presence of his own clergy, and of many bishops,
has given the most ample testimony of his extraordi
nary sanctity, declaring that he was indeed a great
man of God, and worthy to be compared with St. An
tony himself.
ST. JULIAN SABBAS.
From Theodoret, in his Philotheus, or Religious His
tory, chap. 2
ST. JULIAN, surnamed Sabbas, or the venerable father,
was a native of Mesopotamia, who, following the divine
call, withdrew himself in his youth from the world,
and took up his habitation in a den or cavern, in a
vast wilderness on the borders of Osrhoena, a place, on
many accounts, inconvenient to dwell in, but preferred
by him on account of its solitude, before the most com
modious palace in the world. Here he undertook a
life of perpetual penance and incessant prayer, eating
but once a week, and then only some coarse bread
made of millet, with a little salt, and drinking so small
a quantity of water at his meal, as was insufficient to
the quenching of his thirst, continually nourishing
his soul with the singing of psalms, in which he took
8T, JULIAN SABBAS. 215
great delight, and with an interior conversation with
God in prayer, by means of which the divine love
took such possession of his heart, that he had no relish
for any worldly thing, passing the night and day al
ways thinking of his Beloved, insomuch, that even in
his sleep he could dream of nothing else.
The great reputation of his sanctity attracted by de
grees many disciples to join him in the desert, who
were desirous to learn the science of salvation. These
he received into his cavern, and trained up to an imi
tation of the exercises which he himself followed ;
teaching them to discard all care and solicitude for
this perishable carcase, and be content to lodge and
eat like himself. However, as their number increased,
and as the dampness of the cavern spoiled the little
provisions of pickled herbs which they provided for the
sick, he consented that a hut should be built for their
better preservation. Having gone out at this time, as
he frequently did for greater solitude and recollection
,n prayer, to a distant part of the wilderness, employ
ing several days by himself in spiritual exercises, and
at his returning home, finding they had erected a
larger building than he had ordered, he told them :
" I fear brethren, that whilst we are enlarging our
earthly dwelling, which we can occupy but for a short
ime, we shall suffer detriment with respect to our hea-
renly mansions which are eternal."
The method of prayer and of performing the divine
fil6 ST. JULIAN S ABB AS.
Dffice which this saint taught his disciples, was as fol
lows : before day they all sung hymns, psalms, and
canticles to the praise of God together within the cave ;
then early in the morning they went out into the wil
derness, two by two, and observed the same manner of
worship, with this difference, that one of them sung
fifteen psalms, standing upright, whilst the other lay
prostrate on the ground in silent prayer and adoration,
till the fifteen psalms being ended, he that had sung
them prostrated himself in his turn on the ground,
ind adored, whilst his companion, rising up, sung
other fifteen psalms : and thus alternately singing and
adoring, they passed a considerable part of the day.
Before sunset, they betook themselves to a little rest,
and afterwards meeting all together in the cave, they
sung their evening hyrn^s to the praises of their Cre
ator.
As to the Saint himself, he made, as we have already
said, frequent excursions to a great distance from hia
cave, and spent eight or ten days together in the re
moter parts of the wilderness in his spiritual exercises.
On these occasions he often took one of the brethren
with him, particularly a holy man named James, a
native of Persia, but never without desiring his com
panion to keep himself at a distance, that he might
be no occasion of distraction to him in his devotions.
One time, whilst James was following him in the wil
derness, he found a monstrous serpent lying dead in
ST. JULIAN SABBAS. 217
the way, which the Saint had killed by the sign Oi the
cross, as he acknowledged upon his disciple s putting
it home to him, but with a strict injunction to keep
the matter a secret during his life. Another time,
when Asterius, a young religious, endued with more
courage than strength, had by his importunity obtain
ed leavo to accompany him in one of those excursions
in the heat of the summer, which in those deserts is
very violent, after two or three days the young man
was so parched with thirst by the sun continually
beating upon him, and no water being to be found in
those sands, he was just upon the point of perishing,
had not the Saint by his prayers and tears obtained
of the Father of mercies, that a fountain of water
should spring up to save the young man s life, in tho
very spot which he had sprinkled with his tears ;
which fountain, says Theodoret, continues to flow to
this day. The same Asterius was afterwards one of
the most illustrious amongst the disciples ef St. Julian,
and propagated the holy discipline he had learnt of
his master, by founding a famous monastery near
Gindare, in the territory of Antioch, where he trained
up many souls to religious perfection.
But these were not the only miracles wrought by
the prayers of St. Julian, for he frequently cast out
devils, and healed divers diseases. To avoid the con
course of people which the fame of his sanctity and
miracles brought to see him, as well as the honors
19
218 ST. JULTA.V SABBA8.
they showed him, which were troublesome to his hu
mility, he withdrew himself from his Mesopotamian
cavern, and taking with him some of his disciples,
with necessary provisions for a long journey, he tavel
led as far as mount Sinai in Arabia, taking care to
avoid any town or village that lay in his way. Here
he took up his habitation, being charmed with the
tranquillity he enjoyed in this holy solitude ; but after
having built a church, or oratory, and sanctified for
some time his new residence with the holy exercises
of prayer and penance, it was the will of God he
should return again to his disciples whom he had left
behind him in his former habitation.
Here he was informed of the threats of Julian the
Apostate, who was then engaged in his expedition
against the Persians, and of his impious designs against
the church of Christ, if he should return with victory.
Whereupon, to divert this impending storm, he em
ployed ten whole days in most fervent prayer, to im
plore the divine mercy and protection for the church.
At the end of which time he learnt, by divine revela
tion, the unhappy death of that prince, and declared
the same to his disciples.
Valens, an Arian, who succeeded not long after to
the empire, was a great persecutor of the church and
and an earnest promoter of such as were addicted to
his heresy. In his time the Arians made a great
bavoc in the church of Antioch, where also they had
ST. JULIAN SABBAS. 219
the impudence to publish that St. Julian was of their
sentiments. Upon this occasion the Saint, at the re
quest of the Catholics, leaving his desert, took a jour
ney to Antioch, to bear testimony to the faith, and to
repress the insolence of the heretics. In his way
thither he miraculously preserved the life of the child
of a good woman who had entertained him at her
house, that by accident had fallen into a deep well, and
was given over for lost, but was afterwards found sit
ting and playing upon the water. Upon being drawn
out, he declared he had seen the Saint all the while
holding him up, and keeping him from sinking to the
bottom. When he arrived at Antioch, great multi
tudes from all parts flocked about him ; some to be
hold a man so much renowned for his sanctity, others
to seek by his prayers a deliverance from the evils
wherewith they were afflicted. Here it pleased God
that he himself should be seized by a violent fever.
But as the Catholics were apprehensive that the peo
ple would be shocked on the occasion, at their desire,
he prayed to God, that if his recovery might be of any
service to the church, he would be pleased to restore
him to health. His prayer being immediately followed
by a sweat, his fever abated, and he presently recover
ed. Many others were healed upon the spot by his
prayers. After which he went to the place, out of
town, where the faithful assembled to their devotions,
In his way thither he passed by the gate of the em-
220 8T. JULIAN S ABBA 8.
peror s palace, where a poor cripple, who had been
deprived of the use of his legs, was instantly cured l>y
the touch of his garment, so as to be able to rise up
immediately and leap or run. The report of this mi
racle being noised abroad, brought an immense crowd
about the Saint, to the great confusion of the Arians,
whose impostures were not only clearly discovered, but
confuted by the public testimony the Saint gave to
the Catholic truth, and by his confirming it by evident
miracles which they could not contradict, as the gov
ernor of the eastern district (who being grievously ill,
had sent for the Saint), was one of the number of
those who were miraculously cured by him.
On his return home from Antioch, he passed through
Cyrus, a city of which Theodoret was afterwards
bishop. Here the faithful represented to him the
danger they were in from one Asterius, an Arian, who
had been intruded upon them for a bishop, and was
preparing a sermon against the faith of the Trinity, to
impose upon them by his eloquent sophistry. The
Saint exhorted them to fasting and prayer ; and join
ing with them in these spiritual exercises, by the effi
cacy of his prayers in their favor, Asterius was sud
denly seized upon with a mortal illness, which within
twenty-four hours hurried him before the judgment
seat of Christ, on the very eve of the festival which
he designed to have preached his impious doctrine in
the cathedral of that city.
ST. ABRAHAM. 221
The Saint after this returned to his solitude, and
there continued his accustomed exercises, till having
attained to a good old age, he exchanged his mortal
pilgrimage for a happy immortality. He is spoken
of with the greatest eulogium by St. Jerome, Epist.
13, and by St. John Chrysostom, writing upon th
epistle to the Ephesians. His name is recorded in the
Roman Martyrology, January ] 4.
ST. ABRAHAM.
From his Life by St. Ephrem.
ST. ABRAHAM was born in Mesopotamia, about the
year 300, of wealthy parents, by whom he was ten
derly beloved, and who provided him with a worldly
spouse, to whom they from his childhood had pro
mised him in marriage, designing to procure him an
advantageous settlement, and desiring nothing so
much as to see him advanced to some post of honor
or dignity in the world : but God, who had other de
signs upon him, inspired him with the love of purity,
and an early affection to the practices of piety and de
votion. He was remarkably diligent in frequenting
the church, in attending to the holy scriptures,
222 ST. ABRAHAM.
and in carrying Lome the divine lessons he there
heard, in order to make them the subjects of his me
ditation both day and night. When he had come to
man s estate, his parents pressed him so closely to
marry the girl to whom they had before contracted
him, and after having resisted their solicitations for
some time, he was at length constrained to acquiesce.
But after celebrating the marriage feast, when nio-ht
O O O
came on, a ray of divine light having penetrated his
heart, accompanied by so strong a call to quit all for
the love of God, that he immediately arose, and left
both his spouse untouched and his father s house, and
going to some distance off, hid himself in an empty
cell which he found fit for his purpose, and there with
great joy began to sing hymns of praise to his divine
Deliverer.
His parents and friends not knowing what became
of him, after a diligent search of seventeen days dis
covered him in his cell at his prayers. But as they
found him fixed in his resolution to remain there, in
order, as he said, to bewail his sins, and dedicate the
remainder of his life to prayer and penance, they left
him to follow the call of God, and returned home. At
parting he desired that they would not come any more
under pretence of visiting him, to interrupt his spirit
ual exercises ; and that he might have as little com
munication as possible with the world, he walled up
the door of his cell, leaving only a little window
ST. ABRAHAM. 223
through which he received, from time to time, the
slender provisions which maintained his life. Here,
free from the cares and distractions of the world, he
lived in the greatest austerity, abstaining even from
bread, in watchings, penitential tears, and a continu
al practice of the most profound humility, wonderful
charity and meekness, which he showed, without res
pect of persons, to every one. In this solitary state he
continued for the space of many years, without ever
remitting or being wearied out by his long penance,
but rather finding an unspeakable sweetness therein,
with which he was never satisfied. He considered
every day as if it were the day of his death, and suffer
ed not so much as one day to pass without weeping,
but was never seen to laugh. Yet with all this aus
terity and continual mortification, he always preserved
a fresh countenance, an agreeable air, and a strength
and vigor of body, which must have proceeded from
grace, and not from the slender nourishment he al
lowed himself. Nay, his very habit, which must be
considered as a kind of a miracle, was Hot worn out
during the fifty years that he remained in this peni
tential course of life.
The reputation of his sanctity brought many of all
conditions to him, to whom he gave admirable lessons
for their spiritual profit ; for our Lord had rewarded
his early piety with the gifts of wisdom and under-
itanding in so eminent a degree, that his light shone
224 ST. ABRAHAM.
forth to all that approached him for their instruction
and edification. In the mean time his parents dying,
when he had been about ten years in this solitude,
left him their worldly substance, which was very con
siderable, which he desired a friend of his to charge
himself with, and to dispose of the whole in alms and
other pious uses, in order that himself might not be
distracted or interrupted in his spiritual exercises by
any temporal concerns.
There was in the neighborhood of the Saint s cell,
not far distant from the city of Edessa, a large coun
try town, inhabited by pagans, who were not only
obstinately addicted to their idolatrous worship, and
heathenish superstitions, but also excessively barbarous
and cruel towards all such as sought to reclaim them
from their idolatry, by preaching to them the faith of
Christ, insomuch that several of the clergy and relig
ious in those parts, who had from time to time at
tempted to convert them to Christianity, instead of
succeeding in their undertaking, meeting with nothing
but insults and outrages, were forced by their barbarity
to abandon their enterprise. The bishop hearing of
the heroic virtues of Abraham, cast his eyes upon him
as one whose charity, zeal, meekness, and patience,
seemed most likely to prevail over the blindness and
obstinacy of these infidels ; wherefore assembling hi
clergy, he proposed to them the advancing of the man
of God to the priestly dignity, to the end that he
ST. ABRAHAM. 225
might go and convert them. Having unanimously
applauded his proposition, they went in a body, with
the prelate at their head, to the cell of the holy man.
The bishop told him upon what occasion they were
come, and how great and charitable a work it would
be in him to go and endeavor to procure the salvation
of so many poor deluded souls. Abraham, at the
hearing of this proposal, being struck with surprise,
begged that the prelate would never think of sending
such a miserable wretch as he was upon so important
and arduous an enterprise, but rather suffer him to
remain in his cell to lament and to do penance for his
manifold sins. The bishop encouraged him, assuring
him that God would assist him in this great work ;
that his having forsaken all things for his love, was not
sufficient to make his sacrifice complete, unless he were
also ready to renounce his own will by the virtue of
obedience, which is the true way to find out the will
of God ; that whilst he stayed in his cell, he was la
boring only for his own salvation ; but by going where
he was about to send him, and laboring in the conver
sion of those infidels, the grace of God co-operating
with him, he would become the instrument of saving
the souls of many, and be entitled to a much greater
reward in eternal bliss. The man of God, on hearing
this, could resist no longer ; but cried out w^li fears :
" The Lord s will be done ! I am ready to go to what
soever place you shall be pleased to send me." Thui
226 ST.. ABRAHAM.
the bishop, having brought him out of his cell, or
dained him priest, and sent him to preach to that
pagan people.
He began his mission by pouring out prayers and
tears before God in behalf of these poor souls, in whom
he found no manner of disposition to profit by his
words. Then sending to his friend, whom he had
charged with the disposal of the worldly substances
left him by his parents, he procured from him a sum
of money with which he in a short time built a church,
and adorned it for divine service. In the mean time
the people, for whose conversion he ceased not contin
ually to sigh and pray, made no opposition, although
their curiosity brought them daily to behold the build
ing. But when he had finished the church, and dedi
cated it to the living God, with a most fervent prayer,
accompanied with many tears for the conversion of the
idolaters, his zeal carried him from the church to the
temple of the idols, where he overthrew their altars,
and broke their statues in pieces. Hereupon their rage
knew no bounds, but falling upon him with merciless
fury, after having discharged innumerable blows and
gtripes upon him, they drove him out of the town.
The next morning when they came to the church
(as they daily did, not out of devotion, but from a cer
tain curiosity and pleasure they took in seeking its de
corations) they were surprised beyond measure to find
him at his prayers before the altar. But upon his be-
ST. ABRAHAM. 227
ginning to preach to them, and to conjure thorn to
turn from their idols to the living God, they again fell
upon him, and having beat him worse than before,
they fastened a rope about his feet, and dragged him
like a dead dog out of the town, where they pelted
him with stones till they thought they had made an
end of him. About midnight he, whom they had left
for dead, came to himself, and after fervently praying,
with abundance of tears to the Father of mercies, for
Iho conversion and salvation of his persecutors, got
up, and returned again into the town, and early in the
morning was again found in the church singing" psalms.
The pagans, although astonished at the sight of him,
yet were no way mollified, but rather more enraged,
so that they repeated the treatment thej had given
him the preceding day, and dragged him again by the
feet with ropes out of their town. He returned never
theless the next day, and thus for the space of three
whole years, he still persevered constant in his labors
and fervent prayers for their conversion, under a per
petual succession of grievous sufferings, pains, mocker
ies, and outrages, without ever showing the least anger
or impatience, or returning them a single angry word,
or even entertaining in his soul any hatred or aversion
towards them whatever, but, on the contrary, the more
cruelly they treated him, the more tenderly did he
love them, and the more affectionately invite them to
come to Christ, the ivay, the truth, and the life.
228 ST. ABRAHAM.
After three years had elapsed in this manner, the
patience and prayers of the Saint at length prevailed
over the resistance he had hitherto met with from this
obstinate people. Upon a certain occasion, when they
were all assembled together, they began to declare to
each other their great admiration at the unwearied
patience r.nd charity of the servant of God, and from
thence to argue that the God whom he preached must
needs be the true God, and the religion which taught
him so much patience and chanty the true religion.
Continuing to reason after this manner with one
another, they further observed how he, being but one
man, had cast down and broken in pieces all their
gods, without their being able to resist him, or to re
venge themselves on him. These reflections, being
matured by the grace of God, opening their eyes and
softening their hearts, produced a general resolution
upon the spot of their all going in a body to the
church, to yield themselves up to the man of God,
and to embrace the faith he preached, which resolu
tion they instantly put in execution. The Saint re
ceived them with inexpressible joy, and having first,
instructed them in the necessary articles of the cliris-
tian doctrine, he afterwards baptized them, to the
number of about one thousand persons, men, women,
and children. After which he continued for the space
of one year, watering these young plants, till he saw
them not only deeply rooted in the Christian faith, but
ST. ABRAHAM. 229
lso diligent in bringing forth the fruit of every chris-
tian virtue, some thirty, some sixty, and others an
hundred fold.
Having thus accomplished the great work for which
he was sent, and finding the affection of the people
towards him to be so great, that they would never
willingly suffer him to return to his solitude ; he, when
they least suspected it, withdrew himself from them
privately by night : having first recommended them
in the most earnest manner he could, to the divine
goodness, and making three times the sign of the
cross over their town. The affliction which these
good people suffered, when on coming to church the
next morning they could not find their pastor, and
the diligence wherewith both they and the bishop,
who was sensibly affected with their grief, made search
after him, was inexpressible, but all in vain, for he
concealed himself with so much secrecy, that they
could learn no tidings of him ; so that the good pre
late, to console and assist them, went amongst them
himself, and after having greatly edified them by his
instructions, &c. he ordained priests, deacons, and sub-
deacons amongst them, for the preaching the word of
God, and administering the divine sacraments in their
infant church. When Abraham was informed how
matters stood, he gave thanks to God, and then ven
tured to return to his ancient cell, where he was fre
quently \isited by his flock, in order to nourish their
20
230 ST. ABRAHAM.
souls with the food of the words of life, which issued
in copious streams from his sacred lips.
We pass over several other particulars of the vir
tues of this man of God, and the frequent assaults he
underwent from the malice of the common enemy,
who had oftentimes visibly appeared to him, but was
always so effectually vanquished by his humility, and
the confidence he placed in our Lord, as not to be able
to inspire him with the least fear. But there remains
a remarkable passage of the life of this servant of God
which must not be omitted, as it relates to the fall, the
conversion, and penance of his niece.
After the Saint had gone back to his cell, it hap
pened that his brother, dying in the world, left an
only daughter, named Mary, an orphan of seven years
of age. This child was brought to her uncle in his
wilderness, who undertook to train her up to a reli
gious life, and placed her, for this purpose, in a cell
adjoining to his own, with a little window between
both, through which he instructed her. Here she
made such good use of the lessons she daily received
from him, as to become a perfect model of piety and
penance, in which happy state she persevered for
twenty years, till a false religious, or rather a wolf in
sheep s clothing, under pretence of coming to be edi
fied by the conversation of her uncle, found means tc
tempt her to sin, and ceased not till she was so un
happy as to "uit her cell, and yield to the temptation.
ST. ABRAHAM. 231
The horror and remorse that followed her crime was
BO excessive, that it threw her into despair ; so that
instead of rising after her fall, and returning to her
uncle to confess and do penance for her sin, she was
resolved to fly from him, and accordingly went to a
distant town, where she abandoned herself to a sinful
course of life.
The Saint having taken notice that for the space of
two days he had not heard her sing psalms, according
to her custom, called out to her to know the cause of
her silence, and as no answer was returned, it present
ly occurred to his recollection that she was the dove
he had seen in a vision swallowed up by a dragon.
His grief for the loss of his dear child became inex
pressible : he wept and prayed for her without ceasing,
till at the end of two years, having heard where she
was, and the wicked course of life to which she had
abandoned herself, he took the resolution of seekino-
O
after the lost sheep, in order to bring her back to
Christ s fold. In order thereto, he procured, through
the means of a friend, a horse, together with a soldier s
habit, and a large cap or hat, which covered a great
part of his face, and taking some monev with him,
went to the inn in which she lived, where having or
dered a splendid supper to be prepared, he told the
host that he had heard much of the beauty of a young
woman in his house, whose name was Murv, and de
sired she might sup with him. Supper being ended,
32 ST. Aim ATI AM.
and the waiters having- retired, he took off his cap,
and mingling tears with his words: "My daughter, 1
said he (for so he used to call her), " don t you know
me ? My child did not I bring you up ? What has
befallen you ? Who is the murderer that has killed
your soul ? Where is that angelical habit that you
formerly wore ? Where that admirable purity ?
Where are those tears which you poured out in the
presence of God ? Where those watchings employed
in singing the divine praises ? Where that holy aus
terity that made you take pleasure in lying on the
bare ground ? Why did you not, after your u/-st fall,
come presently to acquaint me with it, since I should
certainly have done penance for you, with my friend
Ephreni (the writer of this life), who has been ever
since under an unspeakable affliction on your account ?
Why had you so little confidence in me ? Alas !
who is there without sin but God alone ? " On hear-
in^ these words she stood like one struck dumb and
O
motionless with confusion and horror, and it was not
without extreme difficulty, after many affecting
speeches, lively representations of the tender mercies
of God to repenting sinners, and even promises to
take all her sins upon himself, that she at length put
on the resolution of returning to her cell. Then pros
trating herself at his feet, she spent the remainder of
the night in prayers and tears. At break of day he
bid her get upon his horse, and thus conducted her
ST. ABRAHAM. 233
back to his cell, ordering her to leave what money
and goods she was possessed of behind her, as inherit
ing them of the devil, whom she had been serving.
After her return, she gave herself up with so much
ardor to the exercises of a penitential life, and bewailed
her sins day and night with so deep a sense of sorrow
and contrition for them, joined with so lively a confi
dence in the divine mercy, that God was please 1 .,
within three years, to give her, as a token of his ac
ceptance of her penitence, the grace of even working
miracles, by restoring health to the diseased by her
prayers. However, she continued her penitential
course with incredible austerity during the fifteen
years that she lived after her conversion, never ceas
ing to lament her sins, till at length God was pleased
to take her to himself. At the hour of her death a
certain extraordinary brightness was observed on her
countenance, which gave all that were present occasion
to glorify God.
As to St. Abraham, he passed to a better life five
years before her, after having, as we have already
seen, spent fifty years in serving God in the most con-
ummate sanctity. No sooner was the news of hi?
death spread abroad, than the whole city, in a man
ner, crowded about his cell, and as many as could
procure the least scrap of his clothes, carried them
home with them, as so many precious relics which
would bring a blessing along with them to theii
234 ST. ABRAHAM.
houses ; and we are assured by St. Ephrem, that the
very touch of them cured all diseases upon the spot.
St. Abraham is commemorated in the Roman Mar
ty rology, on the 16th of March, but the Greeks cele
brate his festival, jointly with St. Mary, his niece, on
the 29th of October.
Theodoret, in his Philotheus, gives us the life of
another St. Abraham, a native of the city of Cyrus
who from an anchoretical life was called forth by di
vine inspiration to the conversion of the inhabitants
of a certain town on mount Libanus; which having
happily effected, by his zeal and charity, after three
years abode amongst them, he returned to his solitude.
The extraordinary sanctity of his life, and the general
esteem wherein his eminent virtues and great talents
for the gaining of souls to God were held, determined
his superiors to send him with the episcopal character
to the city of Carra3 (or Haran) in Mesopotamia,
which as yet had not received the faith of Christ, but
was given up to the worship of devils. Here God
gave such a blessing to his labors and preaching, con
tinual prayer, wonderful sanctity and austerity of life,
that this idolatrous people, by his means was soon
brought over to Christ. He flourished in the fourth
uentuiy.
ST. JOHN OF EGYPT. 235
ST. JOHN OF EGYPT.
From Rufirms s Lives of the Fathers, chap. 1. Palla
dius. Historia Lausiaca chap. 43. and Casaian, 1. 4
I.aatitat. chap. 23. 24, 25.
AMONGST all the sainsts of the Egyptian deserts, there
is perhaps none, St. Antony excepted, whose name is
so illustrious in church history, and the writings of the
holy fathers, as that of St. John of Lycopolis (so
called from the place, near which he dwelt in the
hither Thebais.) He was not only greatly renowned
for his extraordinary sanctity and miracles, but also
consulted as an oracle from all parts, on account of
his eminent spirit of prophecy, not only by persons of
an inferior rank, but even by the emperor Theodosius
the Great himself, to whom, amongst other things, he
foretold his glorious victories over the mighty armies
of the two usurpers, Maximus and Eugenius. This
Saint was born about the year 305, and brought up
at first to the trade of a carpenter, but when grown
up to manhood he withdrew himself under an ancient
religious man, whom he served with so much diligence-
and humility, that the good old father was quite wrapt
n admiration at his virtue. However, to put it to the
trial, whether his virtue was built upon a solid founda
tion or not, he often enjoined him to do many things
23G ST. JOHN OF EGYPT.
seemingly absurd, or extremely difficult, or altogether
impossible, which the humble disciple immediately
took in hand, and endeavored to accomplish with a
wonderful faith, simplicity, and perseverance, without
so much as once allowing himself to reflect on the un
reasonableness or impossibility of the injunction : but
believing all things possible to obedience, and looking
upon the ordinance of his superior as the command
ment of God himself, an instance of which is record
ed by Cassian. The old father one day fixing a dry
stick of wood in the ground, bid his disciple water
that tree twice a day, which task, with his usual punc
tuality in matters of obedience, he constantly perform
ed for the space of a whole year, whether sick or well,
or whatever other occupation required his attention,
though he was obliged to walk the distance of two
miles each time to fetch the water, till at the expiration
of the year, the old father asked him, whether the tree
had as yet taken root or not, and he simply answering
that he did not know, the father pulled the stick oui
of the ground, and bid him water it no longer.
After the death of his master, having spent about
five years in different monasteries in the exercises of a
religious life, being then about forty years of age, he
retired alone to a steep mountain, about two miles dis
tance from the city of Lycopolis, and there chose a
hollow rock of difficult access for his place of abode,
which he divided into three rooms or apartments : one
ST. JOHN OF EGYPT. 237
af which served him for an oratory, another for a
work-room, and the third for his ordinary uses. The
entrance of this cavern he closed up so effectually,
that for the space of fifty years he neither went oat
himself nor admitted any one to enter his enclosure,
conversing only on certain days through a window
with such as either came to be edified by his heavenly
discourses, or to seek counsel, consolation, or a remedy
for their diseases ; but for the accommodation of such
as came from a remote distance, he permitted a dwell
ing to be erected near to his grotto, where some ser
vants of God, who had placed themselves under his
direction, took care to provide them with food and
lodging. But as for women, none were suffered to
approach him upon any account whatsoever. He em
ployed the whole week in conversation with God, ex
cept the Saturdays and Sundays, when he let himself
be seen through his window by such as came to visit
him ; and after having prayed for and with them, and
entertained them with excellent lessons out of the
word of God, according to their exigencies, he resolv
ed their doubts, comforted them in their spiritual
afflictions, and encouraged them to fervor and perse
verance in the love and service of God. His words
were seasoned with that heavenly wisdom which he
acquired by a continual conversation with God ; for
the more he withdrew himself from earthly tilings,
the nearer the Spirit of God approached to him, with
238 ST. JOHN OF EGYPT.
such heavenly light as not only to endow him with *
clear understanding of things present, but also with
so perfect a knowledge and foresight of things to
come, that few or none of the saints since the Apostles
have been found to excel, or even to equal him in the
spirit of prophecy. He not only often declared the
most secret thoughts of their hearts to those that
came to visit him, and reproved them in private for
sins of which he could have no knowledge but by
revelation, but also foretold public calamities, and
cautioned the people against tlve sins by which they
were about to draw down the severe judgment of God
upon their heads; and on many other occasions relat
ing to the public welfare, he not only gave directions
to those in power how to act, but punctually foretold
the success. He became also illustrious for innumer
able miracles : though to avoid ostentation he would
never undertake to cure the diseased in his cell, but
rather chose to send them some oil he had previous!^
blessed, which never failed to heal them of all their
disorders.
Palladius relates how himself had undertaken a
journey of eighteen days from mount Nitria to the
neighborhood of Lycopolis, on purpose to visit this
saint ; and that as soon as he saw him, he told him
his name, and mentioned the monastery from whence
he came ; and that shortly after the governor of the
province coming in, and the Saint having entertained
ST. JOHN OF EGYPT. 239
him for some time in private upon the affairs of his
soul, when the governor was gone he let Palladius
know what had passed in the mean time in his
thoughts. He told him also the temptations he lay
under of quitting his solitude, and of returning to hi
native country, under the specious pretext of comfort
ing his aged father, and of inducing his brother and
his sister to embrace a religious life, assuring him that
such an undertaking was needless, for that they had
both of them already renounced the world, and that
his father would live seven years longer ; and more
over, that he should hereafter be a bishop, and after
wards suffer great troubles and afflictions ; all which
came to pass, for when Palladius, some time after,
going into Palestine for a change of air, and from
thence into Bithynia, he was there made a Bishop of
Helonopolis, and became a partaker in the persecution
raised against St. John Chrysostome, being himself
also expelled from his see on the same occasion.
Eufinus also with six others, his companions, went
in like manner from Jerusalem to visit the great Saint
not long before his happy death. At their first com
ing, when according to custom they were about to join
with him in prayer, and then to receive his benedic
tion ; he ased if there was not one amongst them in
holy orders ? They answered, no. But he looked on
them one by one, and then pointing to the youngest
of the company, he said, this man is a deacon ; whicb
240 BT. JOHN OF EGYPT.
was actually the case, though he desired to conceal it,
and as only one of the company knew it, he therefore
continued to deny it; upon which the saint taking
hold of his hand, and kissing it, said : u My son, take
care not to disown the grace you have received from
God, Jest that which is good should be an occasion of
your falling into evil, by telling a lie undor the pretext
of humility. An untruth must never be told, not
even under the pretence of good, nor upon any account
whatever ; for a lie can never proceed from God, but
always from evil, as our Saviour himself teaches." The
deacon received this charitable correction with respect
ful silence. After which, having all united in prayer,
as soon as they had finished, one of the company, who
was grievously tormented with a tertian ague, humbly
entreated the Saint to cure him. He told him, that he
desired to be delivered from what was sent him for his
good, for that sicknesses, and such like chastisements,
contributed to purify the soul. He however gave him
some blessed oil, by the application of which he was
suddenly and perfectly healed. The man of God gave
orders, says Rufinus, for our entertainment, according
to the strictest rules of hospitality, taking much care
of us, whilst he was altogether regardless of himself;
for he never eat till after vespers, and then but a verj
small quantity of what had never been near the fire
This was his manner of fasting, in which he still perse
vered though he was now ninety years of age.
8T. JGHJT OF EGYPT. 241
After refreshing their bodies by the entertainment
the saint had ordered for them, they returned again to
receive from him the food of their souls. Having
asked them, from what place they came, and what
was the motive of their journey ? They answered,
that they came from Jerusalem, with a desire to be
edified by seeing what they had heard so much of.
Upon which he told them, with a cheerful serenity of
countenance, which proceeded from the inward joy
and peace of his soul, that he wondered how they
should take so much pains, and suffer the fatigues of
so long a journey, merely to see a poor frail imperfect
mortal, in whom there was nothing worthy of any
one s seeking after or admiring; for even supposing
they had conceived an opinion that they might be
edified by what they should see in him, or hear from
his mouth, yet how inconsiderable would all this be
in t omparison of *vhat they might learn at any time
without going abroad, from the prophets and apostles,
or rather from the spirit of God in the holy Scriptures.
However, seeing they came so far with a desire to hear
something from him, he made them a most divine ex
hortation, set down at large by Rufinus; in which,
after cautioning them against the danger of being
puffed up by vanity, on account of their journey, or
any thing they should see or hear from tne servants
of God, either by harboring a better c pinion 01 trieni
Reives, or seeking to raise themselves in tne esteem c">
242 ST. JOHN OF EGYPT.
athers, he proceeds to expatiate on the pernicious ef
fects of pride and vain-glory, which not only rob us
of the fruit and reward of all our good works, but is
capable of even casting the soul, that seems to herself
to have already ascended to the top of the hill of re-
ligious perfection, headlong down- the precipice that
leads to the bottomless pit, as was the case with Satan
and his angels. Of this he told them a dreadful ex
ample, which had lately happened in that very desert,
of a solitary, who dwelt in a cavern by himself, and
led an austere life, laboring with his own hands for his
subsistence, and passing both day and night in prayer ;
after having attained to an eminent degree of virtue,
suffering himself to be puffed up with pride and a
conceit of his own strength, he fell an easy prey to the
enemy ; who assuming the shape of a woman in dis
tress, and being admitted by him into his cave, excit
ed in his heart impure thoughts and criminal desires ;
to which, when he had consented, and was seeking to
put them into execution, the phantom vanished away
with a most hideous noise, whilst a multitude of devils
was heard in the place, with a loud laughter mocking
and insulting him. The wretch was so much cast
down and confounded at his shameful fall, that aban
doning all thoughts of endeavoring to rise again, and
repair, by penance and humility, the fault into whicri
his pride had betrayed him, he fell, into the deep gulf
of despair, and returning into the world, he gave him
ST. JOHN OF EGYPT. 243
aelf up to all manner of impurities, industriously
avoiding the meeting or conversing with any holy
person, who by their wholesome admonitions might
seek to reclaim and convert him.
In the sequel of his discourse the Saint also incul
cates the necessity of keeping a strict guard upon our
hearts and thoughts, in order to prevent any passion,
or disorderly affection of the will, or the vain desire
of any thing which is not according to God, from tak
ing root in the heart ; for from these roots a thousand
distractions presently shoot up, to the great prejudice
of our attention and devotion in prayer, as well as to
the purity of the soul ; " so that it is not enough,"
says he, " to have renounced the world, and all the
works of Satan, the prince of the world, nor even to
have left our goods, our lands, and all we possessed in
the world, we must also renounce our imperfections,
and all vain pleasures, and unprofitable and hurtful
desires, which, as the apostle tells us, I Tim. vi. 9,
drown men in destruction and perdition. For with
out renouncing these things, we never effectually re
nounce the devil and all his works ; since it is by their
means the devil enters and takes possession of our
heart. These disorderly affections hold a correspond
ence with our enemy ; nay, as they proceed from
him, and open to him the door of the soul, it is no
wonder such souls should never enjoy rest, but rather
be always agitated by troubles and commotion, since
244 ST. JOHN OF EGYPT.
they arc always encompassed by so wretched a guest
to whom they have given admittance by their passions
and vices. On the other hand, he that has indeed re
nounced the world, that is to say, retrenched all his
vices and passions, and banished all disorderly affec
tions to sin far from his soul, so as to leave no gate
open by which the devil may enter ; he who repress-
ee his anger, resists and overcomes all irregular mo
tions to evil, avoids all lying, abhors envy, who
not only speaks well of every one, but even denies
himself the liberty of thinking evil of any one, and
who always considers the good and evil of his neigh
bor as his own, and behaves accordingly on every oc
casion, such a one as this opens the gate of his soul to
the Holy Spirit, who enters in and fills it with his
h ght, and with those admirable fruits of charity, joy,
peace, patience, &c. which are produced in the soul by
this heavenly Comforter." Wherefore the Saint pro
ceeds to recommend in a particular manner to all who
are desirous of being truly religious, to labor to ac
quire such perfect purity, both of conscience and of
heart, as may enable them to offer up to our Lord
Buch a perfect and pure prayer as may introduce them
to a certain familiarity with his divine Majesty and his
holy angels, and to such a happy union of love, as to
be enabled to say with St. Paul, Rom. viii. 38, 39.
That neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor princi
palities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to
ST. JOHN OF EGYPT. 245
tome nor any other creature shall be able to separate
us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our
Lord. He further adds, that the best means to attain
this perfect purity, so pleasing to God, is to retrench
by the virtue of mortification, vanities, inordinate af
fections, and sensual delights of every kind, even in
small things, and to walk resolutely in the narrow way
of self-denial and penance ; with which, if we join the
love of solitude, silence, and recollection of spirit, we
shall easily arrive at perfection, and even begin to en
joy a kind of heaven upon earth.
With these and such like heavenly discourses the
Saint entertained his guests, and after three days dis
missed them, giving them his blessing, and telling
them at parting, that on that very day the news was
brought to Alexandria of the victory which the em
peror Theodosius had obtained over the tyrant Eu-
genius, but, said he, that good emperor shall not long
survive this happy event, -but shall die a natural death.
All which they soon after found to be true. The man
of God himself did not survive that year. During
the space of three days before his death, he let no
man see him ; and on the fourth day, being on his
knees in prayer, he breathed out his pure soul into
the hands of his Creator, whom he went to enjoy for
a happy eternity.
Palladius relates, as having learnt it from the Saint
himself, that during* the many years he had lived in
246 ST. JOHN OF EGYPT.
his cavern he had never seen any woman, nor one
piece of money, nor ever beheld any man eating, nor
had any man ever seen him either eat or drink.
But we must not here omit a very remarkable his
tory relating to this Saint, which we find not only at
tested by Rufinus and Palladius, but also by St. Au
gustine, L. de Cura pro Mortuis, c. 17. which he had
learnt from those who had been informed thereof by
the very parties themselves to whom it happened. A
certain tribune or colonel came to the Saint and beg
ged he would allow his wife to see him, as she had un
dertaken a long and dangerous journey out of an ex
treme desire she had of visiting him. The man of
God answered, that he never saw, nor admitted of
visits from any woman. But as the colonel still press
ed him, affirming that it would cost his wife her life,
through the greatness of her affliction, if she were not
admitted to see him, the Saint bid him go, and assure
his wife she should see him without giving herself the
trouble of either coming to him, or so much as going
out of her own bed chamber. Accordingly that very
night the man of God appeared to her in a vision in
her sleep, said to her : " O woman, great is thy faith,
which has obliged me to come hither to satisfy thy
request. However I must warn thee against desiring
in future to see the mortal and earthly visage of the
servants of God, but rather to contemplate with the
eye of the spirit their lives and other actions : for tkt
ST. JOHN OF EGYPT. 24 7
flesh profitetrt nothing, but it is the spirit that giveth
fife. Know this also, that I, not in the quality of a
Saint, or of a prophet, as thou imaginest, but only in
consideration of thy faith, have prayed to our Lord
for thee, and he has been pleased to grant to thee the
cure of all the corporal diseases under which thou
laborest ; and henceforward both thou and thy hus
band shall enjoy good health, and all thy house shall
oe blessed. But take care that thou never forget the
benefits of God ; live always in the fear of the Lord,
and desire no more for thy worldly subsistence than
the appointment due to thy post. Content thyself
then with having seen me in thy sleep, and desire no
more." When the woman awaked, she related the
whole vision to her husband, describing the habit of
the Saint, and all the lineaments of his face, which to
his great astonishment all perfectly agreed. Upon
which he went the next day to return thanks to the
man of God ; who as soon as he saw him, said : " be
hold I have fulfilled my promise, depart then in peace,
and may the blessing of God go alono- w ith you
both."
St. John of Egypt is celebrated in the Roman
Martyrolo^y on the seventeenth of March.
248 ST. ARSENHT8.
ST. ARSEXIUS.
From the third and fifth book of the Remarkable Ao
tions and Sayings of the Ancient Fathers, published
by Ros-weidus.
ST. ARSENIUS was a nobleman in great favor with
the emperor Theodosius, who committed to him the
care of the education of his two sons, Arcadius and
Honorius, in quality both of their godfather and of
their governor. In this eminent station he lived at
court the life of a courtier, in the midst of honors,
riches, and pleasures, till he was about forty years of .
age, when God was pleased to call him from a world
ly life into the wilderness, there to seek, by flight,
silence, and repose, the salvation of his soul. For,
whilst he was one day at his prayers, earnestly beg
ging of our Lord to teach him what he should do to
secure his eternal salvation, he heard a voice that
answered him, saying, " Arsenius, flee the company of
men, and thou shalt be saved." Wherefore, in com
pliance with this heavenly call, he instantly abandon
ed his secular glory for the love of Christ : and quit
ting all his worldly possessions, retired into the desert
of Scete, in order to dedicate the remainder of his
4 ays to the love and service of his Maker, in solitude,
grayer, labor, and penance. Whilst he repeated the
ST. AKSENIU8. 249
same prayer, he heard again the same voice, saying.
" Arsenius, flee, be silent, and quiet, (fuge, tace, qui-
esce) these are the principles of salvation, or the first
things to be done in order to salvation. Hcec sunt
vrincipia salutis"
To fulfil this repeated injunction of fleeing from the
company of men, he chose a cell at a great distance
from the other solitaries, and very rarely admitted of
any visits from them. Even when he went to church,
which was thirteen leagues distant from his habitation,
he used to place himself behind one of the pillars, in
order to conceal himself as much as possible, so as
neither to see nor be seen by others. When Theoph-
ilus, the patriarch of Alexandria, went one day to visit
him with some others in his company, and desired he
would make some discourse to the company for their
spiritual edification; the Saint asked them whether
they were all disposed to observe and put in practice
what he should say to them ? Yes, replied they, very
willingly. Why then, said he, I beg of you, that in
what place soever you may hereafter hear Arsenius to
dwell, be pleased to let him be alone, and never to
come near him. Another time the same patriarch
being desirous to see him, sent to know if he would
admit of his visit. Arsenius answered, that if he
came alone he should open the door k> him, but if he
brought any others in his company he would seek out
another place, and remain there no longer ; so that
250 ST. ABSKNIUS.
Theophilus, for fear of driving him away, refrained
afterwards from visiting him. The abbot Mark having
asked him one day, why he kept at such a distance
from men, and shunned the conversation of all the
other solitaries ? He answered : " God knows how
dearly I love them all ; but I cannot be at the same
time with his divine Majesty and with them. For
whereas the angels, though their number be almost in
finite, yet have all but one will ; it is quite otherwise
with men, whose dispositions and wills are different ;
therefore I cannot think of leaving God to converse
with men."
As to the manner in which he spent his time in this
solitude, it, was divided between working and prayer,
or rather his whole life in the wilderness was one con
tinual prayer ; for even whilst he was sitting at work
and making baskets, which was his daily employment,
his soul was ever attentive to God in prayer, and for
ever bewailing his sins ; insomuch that he was obliged
to have always a handkerchief in his bosom, to wipe
oft the flood of penitential tears which continually
flowed from his eyes. As for the nights, he generally
spent them, as we learn from b.is disciple Daniel, in
watching and prayer ; only towards flic rooming, when
nature could hold out no longer Jhj tr*ed to suffer
sleep, which he called his nauglS*/ jf vjr.i< to close his
eyes ; but after a very short repupj. Xnch he took sit
ting, he rose up again to Ms &c;astorned exercise*
ST. ARSENIUS. 251
The same disciple relates, that on Saturday evenings
the setting sun usually left him at his prayers, with
his hands extended towards heaven, and that he con
tinued praying in this same posture till the sunbeams,
rising the next morning, came beating upon his eyes.
In order to renew his fervor in his spiritual exercises
he would frequently say to himself: Arsenius, Arse-
nius, to ivhat end didst thou leave the world and coiw
hither ? He used also often to say that whenever he
had been talking, he had always found matter where
of to repent, but had never regretted his having kept
silence. He was also a great lover of holy poverty.
The other solitaries said of him, that as no one was
more richly clad than Arsenius whilst he lived at court,
so none of the inhabitants of the desert wore a more
mean or poor habit than he, after retiring from the
world. His poverty was so great, that having occa
sion for a trifle of money to procure some little neces
saries for him in sickness, he was obliged to receive it
in alms, upon which he cried out : I give thee thanks,
my God, that thou hast made me worthy to be thus
reduced to the necessity of asking an alms in thy
name." After he had lived for many years in the wif-
derness, a kinsman 01 his, a senator, dying, left him
by his last will a considerable estate. When this will
*as brought to the Saint, by a proper officer, in his
solitude, it displeased him so much that he would have
torn it in pieces, had not the officer flang himself at
252 ST. ARSENICS.
hivi feet, declaring that it would cost him his life if the
will were destroyed. Upon this Arsenius returned
him back the will, saying, " How is it possible this
man should by his will make me his heir, since he, as
it appears, died but a little while ago, whilst I have
been dead so many years."
As to his method of fasting, and other austerities
of this kind, it is hard to describe them in particular
on account of his keeping himself so much to himself,
His disciple Daniel only informed us, that during the
>vhole time he knew him, they laid him in but a very
slender provision for his whole year s sustenance ; and
yet that he managed it so well, as not only to make it
suffice for himself, but also to impart some of it to his
disciples whenever they came to see him. The same
disciple also took notice, that whilst he was sitting at
his work, making baskets, according to his custom, of
the leaves of palm-trees, when the water in which he
was obliged to moisten and soften them began to cor
rupt, he would never change it, or fling it away, but
if there were any need of fresh water, he would pour
it in upon that which was already corrupted, that so
it might always continue to yield a disagreeable smell.
The brethren asked him one day, why he would not
Buffer that corrupt water to be flung away, since it in
fected his whole cell with its stench ? " Because," re
plied he, " I was used when I lived in the world to
gratify myself with the most agreeable perfumes, an4
ST. ARSENIUS. 25U
therefore it is EG more than just that I should now,
during the time that remains of my life, in punishment
of my former sensuality, support this stench, in hopes
that at the last day God will deliver me from the in
supportable stench of hell, and not condemn my soul
with that of the rich man who had passed his days
in feasting and delights."
But nothing was more remarkable in this Saint than
his extraordinary humility, which made him so indus
trious in keeping himself out of sight, and in conceal
ing every thing that might procure him the applause
or esteem of men. Although he was so learned in
the human sciences before he quitted the world, as to
be perfect master both of the Greek and Latin, and
had, after his retiring into the wilderness, received such
extraordinary lights from God for understanding spirit
ual matters, that no one had a more perfect knowledge,
or could better explain the most difficult passages of
the holy Scriptures than himself, yet he would never
speak of these matters by his own choice, nor show at
any time his knowledge of them, but rather chose to
consult and hearken to the most illiterate of the breth
ren, provided he were truly humble. Being asked
one day why he, being so learned a man, sought in
struction and counsel from a certain solitary, who was
quite destitute of all human literature, he replied :
" It is true, whilst I was in the world I acquired some
knowledge in the sciences of the world, and in the
22
254 ST. ARSENIUfl.
Greek and Latin tongues, but since I have left th
world, I have not yet been able to learn even the A
SB, C, of the true science of the Saints, of which this
-ignorant rustic is master." Such were his humble
sentiments of himself.
After he had spent forty years in the desert of Scete,
tlie Mazices, a barbarous people of Lybia, made an
irruption on that side, where they massacred St. Moses
nd other solitaries, and forced all the rest from their
cells. Upon this occasion Arsenius was obliged to
change his earthly residence, but not the true dwelling
place where his heart was fixed. He went therefore
to a place .called Trohe, not far from the ancient Baby
lon of Egypt (now Cairo), and there he continued his-
usual course of life for ten years, till fresh irruptions
of the barbarians forced him thence. From Trohe he-
went to Canopsas in the lower Egypt, which is not far
distant from Alexandria, where, being too much dis
turbed with the importunity of visits from that great
metropolis, he remained no longer than three years,,
and then returned again to Trohe, where he spent the
two last years of his mortal pilgrimage. When his
end approached, he told his disciples that he desired
they would bury him privately, no matter how, only
taking care that he should be remembered in the offer-
iwg of the holy sacrifice. They thai were present at
his death, seeing him, said to him: "Father, why do
you weep ? Are you, like the rest, afraid to, die ?.**
ST. NILAMMON. 25C
u Yes," said he, " very much ; and this is no new feat,
but a fear that has stuck close to me ever since I first
came into the desert." He departed to our Lord in a
good old age, being ninety -five years old, of which he
had spent fifty-five in the desert in the exercises of a
religious life. St. Pemen seeing him expire, cried out :
" happy Arsenius, for having wept and mourned for
yourself so much in this world ! since they who do not
mourn in this life, shall mourn for all eternity in the
next." It is also recorded of the patriarch Theophilus,
that when he was at the point of death, he said : "
how happy wast thou, O Arsenius, who hadst this last
hour continually before thine eyes ! "
The name of St. Arsenius is recorded in the Roman
Martyrology on the nineteenth of July.
ST. NILAMMON.
From Sozomen. an ancient Church. Eistorian,
lib. 8. c. 19.
NILAMMON was a holy anchoret, who had made him
self a little cell near Geres, a small city of Egypt, in
the neighborhood of Pelusium, where he dwelt foi
many years in admirable sanctity. When the bishop
of that city died, the clergy and people, who had con
256 ST. NILAMMON.
ceived a high opinion of the eminent virtues of thii
servant of God, desired to have him for his successor.
But whatsover advances they made, Nilammon s hu
mility repelled, by refusing to submit his shoulders to
a charge which even an angel might have reason to
dread ; but being apprehensive that they would use
violence., he closed up the door of his cell, and fenced it
with stones, that they might not be able to come at him.
In the mean time it happened that Theophilus, the
patriarch of Alexandria, coming by sea from Constan
tinople, where he had been too much engaged in the
unjust deposition of St, John Chrysostom, was driven
by a storm upon the coast of Geres. The people
therefore took this opportunity of the presence of the
patriarch to entreat him to oblige Nilammon to accept
of the bishopric. Whereupon Theophilus going to
his cell, used his utmost endeavors to prevail upon him
to accept of episcopal consecration, and continued to
press him so closely, that Nilammon finding the pa
triarch would not hear any thing that he could al-
ledge to excuse himself, desired at least one day s res
pite to set his affairs in order, telling him, that on the
following day he might do with him as he pleased.
The patriarch failed not to return on the following
day, accompanied by all the people, and then chal
lenging the Saint to fulfil his promise, he desired him
(o open the door, that they might proceed to his con
secration. Nilammon proposed that some time should
ST. SIMON STYLITES. 257
be allowed him for prayer before liis consecration
Tlieophilus applauded the proposition, and betook
himself also to prayer; but the fervor of Nilammon s
prayers was so excessive, that he breathed out his soul
into the hands of his Creator. In the mean time, the
patriarch and people who remained without, after hav
ing allowed him, as they thought, competent time for
his devotion, began to be impatient, and to call aloud
on him to open his door ; but finding that a great
part of the day passed in this manner, and that he re
turned no answer, they forced their way into his cell,
where, to their great surprise, they found him dead.
Having buried him with great honor, they erected a
church over his monument, where they celebrated his
festival amongst the Saints.
He died anno 403, and his name is recorded in the
Roman Martyrology on the sixth day of January.
ST. SIMON STYLITES.
From Theodoret in his Philotheus, chap. 26, and Anto-
nius, Disciple of tho Saint, in his Life
ALTHOUGH there were, during the life-time of St. Si
mon Stylites, almost as many eye-witnesses of his ex
traordinary course of life, and of the innumerable pro
258 ST. SIMOK STYLITE8.
digios which God wrought by him, &s there were men
in all the eastern regions, not to say in the then known
world, yet the great Theodoret, who undertook, whilst
the Saint was yet living, to transmit, by writing, to
posterity a faithful account of this wonder of the
world, was afraid lest he should seem to succeeding
acjes to have delivered to them a fabulous rather than
a true history. But the divine providence which rais
ed up this Saint in so extraordinary a manner, in or
der to show forth the power of his grace to the whole
world, and to rouse up by so great an example the
drooping spirits of lukewarm Christians, as well as to
enlighten the eyes and touch the hearts of thousands
of infidels and sinners, was pleased that the wonder
ful life of Simon should not only be perfectly well
known at the time he lived through the whole extent
of the Roman empire, and all the eastern nations bor
dering thereon, but that for the edification of posterity
it should also be written by cotemporary authors, and
in so public a manner, that we may safely aver, there
is no fact in history better authenticated.
Our Saint was born towards the latter end of the
fourth century, at a place called Sisan, upon the con
fines of Syria and Cilicia. In his tender years he was
employed by his parents in feeding their sheep in the
country, so that he seems to have had but little op
portunity of frequenting the church or hearing the
word of God. But a great snow happening to fali
ST. SIMON STYLJTE9. 259
one day, obliged him to leave the sheep under shelter
at home, which afforded him leisure to go to church.
No sooner had he entered the church than he became
so extremely affected, and penetrated with the fear of
God, as to give the utmost attention to the divine les~
sons that were read out of the Epistles of St. Paul and
the gospel ; and after deeply reflecting on those words
of the sermon upon the mount, blessed are thei/ thai
mourn : and blessed are the clean of heart, &c. he
addressed himself to an old man, who was one of the
congregation, desiring to be further informed what he
should do, and what course of life he should follow,
that he might live up to these heavenly lessons and
save his soul ? The good old man recommended a
retired and solitary life as the most proper to establish
solid virtue in his soul ; and spoke to him in so mov
ing and affecting a manner, that the holy seed imme
diately sunk so deep into his heart as to already begin
to produce its fruit. The first thing he afterwards
did, was to retire to a solitary place, where there was
a church of the martyrs, and there, prostrate upon the
ground with the utmost fervor of soul, he besought
him who desires that all men should be saved, to
vouchsafe to direct him in the way of perfect piety, in
order to secure his eternal salvation. Having con
tinued a long time in prayer, he fell into a profound
sleo.p, in which he had the following vision. He seem
ed to himself, as he related to Theodoret, to be dig*
260 ST. SIMON STYLITES.
ging the ground, in order to lay the foundation of a
building, and that he heard a voice which bid him
dig still deeper. He did so, and then would have
rested himself, but the voice a second time bid him yo
deeper stilL And the same thing having been repeat
ed four times, one after another, at length it was said
to him that is dee}} enough, and that he had now noth
ing more to do but to build.
Arising from the ground, he went directly to a
neighboring monastery, which was governed by a
holy abbot named Timothy. Here he prostrated him
self before the gate, employing three whole days and
nights in fasting and prayer, without ever being taken
notice of. At length the abbot coming out, he cast
himself at his feet, and besought him with many
tears to take pity on a poor soul in danger of perish
ing, who was desirous to learn how to serve God. The
abbot taking him by the hand, encouraged him, led
him into the monastery, and recommended to the
brethren to teach him the rule of the house, which
he, being then only thirteen years old, quickly learnt,
and practised with such perfection as to surpass all the
rest in humility, as well as in the exercises of fasting
and penance. Here also, in four months, he learnt
the whole psalter by heart, and took great delight in
meditating on, and feeding his soul with these heaven-
fy hymns. In this monastery he remained two years,
exhibiting a perfect pattern of a consummate virtue
ST. SIMON STYL1TES. 261
and piety in so tender an age. In the mean time his
parents sought after him, and bewailed him as lost,
whilst he, with greater reason, rejoiced at having now
happily found both himself and his God.
For his greater improvement in the silence of the
saints he went from this religious house to another
monastery, founded at a place called Teleda, near An-
tioch, by the disciples of the Saints Ammian and Euse-
bius, and governed at this time by the abbot Heliodo-
rus, where he remained for about nine or ten years.
There were in this monastery about eighty monks, but
Simon excelled them all in the exercises of a relio--
I"5
\ous life ; for, whereas all the rest were accustomed to
eat once a day, or at least once in two days, he fasted
the whole week with such rigor as to eat nothing, ex
cept only one meal on the Lord s day. Here, having
procured a rope or cord, made of the leaves of palm-
trees, so hard and rough that it could scarcely be even
handled, he privately girt himself with it beneath his
habit, next to his skin, so tightly, that it forced its
way into the flesh, till it was almost covered, and the
flesh itself became perfectly corrupted with it. He
concealed what he suffered on this occasion with as
much care as possible, till the religious at length found
out how the case stood with him, and the abbot insisted
upon his parting with the cord, which was with much
:lifticulty, and not without putting him to great tos
tures, disengaged from the flesh.
182 6T. SIMON STYLITE8.
After the wound occasioned by the cord was snred,
the abbot dismissed him from the monastery, fearing
lest any of the other religious might suffer prejudice-,
by aiming at an imitation of his extraordinary auster
ities. Simon, on this occasion, retiring into a mom
remote and lonesome part of the mountain, found
there a dry well, into which he went down and there
sung the praises of God. Here he remained for severaJ
days without either eating or drinking, till Heliodorws,
repenting that he sent the Saint away in that manner,,
desired two of the brethren to seek after him, and!
bring him back again. These by the direction of
some shepherds, who had heard him singing, found
him out in his well, and with the help of a rope
brought him up, and conducted him back to the mon
astery, where he continued for a short time, and then
betook himself to an abandoned hut near a village
called Telanissus, situated at the foot of that moun
tain on the top of which he afterwards finished his
course.
In this hut he lived shut up during three years :
and here our Lord first inspired him with a desire of
fasting the forty days of Lent, without taking any
manner of corporal nourishment during the whole
time. Upon this he desired Bassus, who was the ec
clesiastical superior in that district, to wall up the dooi
of his cell for that Lent, and leave him quite to him
self without any thing for his food. Bassus remon
ST. SIMON STY1ITES. 2(33
stratod to him, that this would be an undertaking be
yond the strength of man, and that to destroy himself
which would be the inevitable consequence of such a
fast, could be no act of virtue, but, on the contrary, a
grievous crime. Leave with me then, father, said the
Saint, ten loaves of bread and a pitcher of water, thai
I may mae use of them in ease I find it necessary.
Bassus accordingly furnished the Ibaves avid the water.
;and then stopping up the door, departed, and did not
return till the forty days were ended. As soon as
Easter was come he hastened to visit the servant of
3od, carrying with him the blessed sacrament ; but
behold, after he had removed the stones and opened
the door, he found the Saint lying extended on the
floor like one dead, without speech or motion, with
the ten loaves and the water quite untouched.. How
ever, as he found life still remaining in him, he dipped
,a sponge in the water with which he moistened his
mouth, and then gave him the holy communion.
With this heavenly food he was again raised up, and
further enabled to recover his strength, by taking in a
little nourishment from the juice of herbs and pulse.
This fast of forty days during Lent, without either eat--
ing or drinking any thing whatever, from this time
brward, he constantly observed every year through
out the remainder of his life, which time and custom
had at length made easy to him. For at the begin
ning, after passing the first part of Lent, standing and
264 ST. SIMON STYLITE8.
praising God, lie was obliged, as he grew weaker, to
sit down, and in this posture to perform the divine
office, till towards the latter end his weakness forced
him to lie down stretched out at full length, as one
half dead, and on this account, during the first yean
of his living and standing upon the pillar, he was ob
liged, for the latter part of his forty days fast, to sup
port himself by the help of a post fastened to his pil
lar for this purpose, to which he caused himself to be
tied as he became weaker. But for many years be
fore his death God had strengthened him so far as not
to stand in need of any help, but pass the whole time
of Lent with all the cheerfulness imaginable, without
any nourishment or human support whatsoever.
From his hut near Telanissus, the Saint went up to
the top of the neighboring mountain, and there made
for himself an inclosure of stones, without any cover
ing, in which he remained for some years, taking no
other nourishment but boiled lentiles and water, and
by the means of a chain, one end of which he fastened
to his right leg, and the other to a great stone, he con
fined himself to such narrow limits as not to be able
to go beyond the length of his chain. But if he was
chained in body, his soul remained at liberty, and was
continually flying up towards God, hy mental prayer
and contemplation. This chain, upon the rern^nstran-
ces of Melecius, a Chorepiscopus under the patriarch
of Antioch, he suffered to be taken away. At which
ST. SIMON STYLITES. 265
time, as Theodoret learnt from Melecius himself, after
the smith had. filed off the iron, when they came ta
Uke away the leather which the Saint had put next
to his skin, to hinder the chain from entering into hia
flesh, as the cord had done before, they found in \i
about twenty large puneezes, jr bugs, which this pre
late thought worthy of particular notice, to show the
wonderful patience of the Saint, who had quietly suf
fered for so long a time the troublesome bites of these
insects, when he might with so much ease have rid
himself of them at once by destroying them.
And now the reputation of Simon s sanctity being
spread far and near, great multitudes began to resort
to him on account of the many miraculous graces of
every kind that were obtained through the efficacy of
his prayers and benedictions, struggling with each
other who should first come near him and touch lik
garments, believing that those coarse skins wherewith
he was clad, would impart to them a blessing
This became so troublesome and insupportable to tb.e
Saint, as to first suggest to him the thought of living
upon a pillar, in order to be out of the reach of the
crowd ; to which he was no doubt instigated by a par
ticular inspiration from God, who designed, by the
means of this extraordinary manner of living, to draw
great numbers of infidels to the faith, ;ind of Chris
tians to a virt \tous and penitential life.
He began this new way of life, which was never bo
as
266 ST. SIMON STYLITES.
fore attempted by any other, about the year of Christ
526, and continued it till his death, which happened
about seven and thirty years afterwards. The pillar
which he caused to be made at first was but six cubits,
that is three yards high, which he afterwards exchanged
for one of twelve cubits, and again, for one of twenty-
two cubits ; but that on which he finished his course
was thirty-six cubits, that is eighteen yards in height.
Its diameter, as we learn from Evagrius, was at the
most but two cubits, or one yard ; so that he could
not, if he would, lie down upon it at his length. In
the mean time he had no covering or shelter to defend
himself either from the rigor of the winter, the heats
of the summer, the violence of the rain or wind, or
from other injuries of the air. His ordinary posture
was standing night and day, without any other sup
port but the strength of faith and divine grace. In
his prayer he very frequently bowed himself down to
adore God, and that in so profound a manner as to
bring his forehead almost to his toes. His rigorous
fasts, for he never eat but once a week, and thai
next to nothing, reduced his body to so low a condi
tion as to make it easy to him. These adorations he
repeated so frequently, that we learn from Theoderet,
that whilst this holy prelate was himself present, one
of his attendants counted them to the number of 1244.
He often remained for a considerable space of .time in
prayer, bowed down in this manner with his forehead
ST. SIMON STYLITES. ?67
upon the pillar and this, it is probable, might also bo
the posture in which he slept ; for certain it is, that
he sometimes slept, though fame had published tint
he lived without either sleeping or eating. Be this as
it may, he certainly slept but very little ; for, as ha
generally passed the greatest part of the night in
prayer, so he did the best part of the day, even till the
ninth hour, viz. three in the afternoon, when he made
his exhortations to the people. But on the eves, or
vigils of the festivals, he not only passed the whole
night in prayer, but stood all the time on his feet,
with his hands stretched forth and extended towards
heaven.
The other holy inhabitants of the oriental deserts
hearing of the new and extraordinary manner of life
which the Saint had undertaken, having consulted to
gether, sent a deputation to him, as we learn from the
historian Evagrius, lib. 1, chap. 13, to ask him the rea
son of his leading so unheard of a course of life, or
of leaving the common road which had been beaten
by all the Saints and the holy fathers who were gone
before him ; and to order him to come down imme
diately from his pillar : giving, nevertheless, instruc
tions to their deputy, that if Simon should show him-
E.cif ready to obey, he should suffer him -to remain
thereon, and encourage him to proceed in his under-
laking, as showing by his readv obedience that what
he did was not from caprice, but by divine inspiration*
268 ST. SIMON STVLITES.
but that if he refused to obey, he should oblige him
to come down by force. The deputy had no sooner
delivered his commission, than the Saint, without
making the least reply or demur, presently disposed
himself to obey, and to come down. Whereupon the
deputy told him to continue where he WJM, for his
undertaking was from God.
This the Almighty himself sufficiently manifested
by the many miraculous gifts and graces he bestowed
upon him, of which there were in his life-time mil
lions of witnesses, as there was an incredible multi
tude from all parts of the world continually assembled
to behold this wonder of the world, to hear his divine
instructions, and seek remedies through him for all
their evils. " For you shall not only see there," says
Theodorct, "the inhabitants of our province, Syria,
but also the Ishmaelites, Saracens of Arabia, Persians,
Armenians, Iberians," Ethiopians, and other nations
which are still more remote. There came also people
to him from the farthest part of the west, viz. from
Spain, Britain, Gaul, and other neighboring provinces ;
and as to Italy, it is needless to say any thing, since
we are assured that his name is so illustrous in Rome,
that they even set up little pictures of him in their
shops and porches for a protection and defence." Sc
far Theodoret writlig, whilst the Saint was yet living,
the things of which he himself had been witness. He
also gives several instances of the spirit of prophecy
ST. SIMON STYLITES. iI69
which lie had experienced in this Saint, and of great
and evident miracles wrought before his own eyes, and
adds, that great numbers of infidels, by occasion cf
this Saint, were daily brought over to the faith of
Christ. " One," says he, " may see the Iberians, Ar
menians, and Persians coining to receive baptism.
And as to the Saracens, they come to him in large
companies of two or three hundreds, or even of a
thousand at a time, abjuring, with a loud voice, their
false religion, treading their idols under their feet, in
the presence of this bright light of Christianity, em
bracing the divine mysteries of our holy faith, and re
ceiving from the sacred mouth of this man of God
the rules of life which they were to follow for the
time to come. " I myself," says Theodoret, " have
been witness of all this."
As to the rest, the same learned and holy prelate
gives an ample testimony to the unparalleled modesty
and humility of this great servant of God, and of his
wonderful meekness and affability to persons of all
conditions, how poor or mean soever they were accord
ing to the world. But nothing was so admirable in
him as that invincible patience, constancy, courage,
and alacrity wherewith he underwent, for so long a
series of years, the voluntary austerities of so severe
and rigid a course of penance, which for a great part
of the time was rendered still more difficult and in
supportable by a dreadful- ulcer in his left foot, which
270 ST. SIMON STYLITES.
he had contracted by his continual standing, and
which sent forth corrupted blood and vermin. Never
theless, with all his fasting, watching, prayer, and
other austerities, he ceased not to labor daily for the
ialvation of the souls of his neighbors, by delivering
to them from his pillar twice a day excellent exhorta
tions to take off their hearts from this wretched earth
to set always before their eyes that everlasting king
dom which we hope for hereafter to tremble at the
threats of eternal torments to despise all that passes
with time, and ever to aspire after the good things of
the Lord, in the land of the living. He was also eve?
ready to give ghostly counsel to all who came ; to
hearken to their demands, cure their diseases, accom
modate their differences, &c. ; and not only to attend
to the private necessities of particulars, but much
more to every occasion by which he might promote
the common good of the church; dictating some
times letters, to this end, to prelates, to governors, and
even to the emperor himself. Thus he usually em
ployed his time from the third hour after mid-day till
the sunset, and then he gave his benediction to the
people, which they received with great reverence, and
thus bid adieu to men to converse with his Go*1
alone.
At length the time being come in which God had
decreed to crown the patience and labors of his servant
with eternal glory, upon a Friday, anno Chrisli, 496,
ST. SIMON STYLITE8. 271
having bowed down, according to his custom in
prayer, he gave up bis happy soul into the bands of
him whom he had so constantly and so faithfully
served. His body, after bis death, remained in the
same posture from Friday till Sunday in the afternoon,
no one in the mean time knowing that he was dead ;
because it was no unusual thing for the Saint to pass
whole days in prayer, so as to omit his ordinary times
of speaking to the people. But on Sunday in the
afternoon, his disciple Antonius going up the pillar by
a ladder, found that he was dead, and immediately
gave private notice of it to the patriarch of Antioch,
and to the governor of the province, in order to pre
vent any tumult that might be raised by the people
contending about his body. The patriarch Martyrius,
accompanied with six other bishops, and escorted by
the governor with 6000 soldiers, came without delay,
and taking the body of the Saint down from the pil
lar, carried it away with great solemnity to Antioch,
where it was interred. God was pleased to work
many great miracles by his intercession, as well at
his monument in that city, as at his pillar where he
lived and died. His name is recorded in the Roman
Martyrology on the third of September.
There were divers other saints of the name of Simon,
ibo are also celebrated in church history. Amongst
the rest St. Simon the ancient, whose life is also given
oy Theodoret in his Philotheus, of whom he relates
272 ST.
that he had the very lions of the desert tt his bock,
St. Simon Stylites the younger, who also passed his
life upon a pillar, and is recorded in the Roman Mar-
tyrology, September the third ; St. Simon, surnamed
Salus, whose name is registered in the same Mrtyrolo-
gy, July the first, with the following eulogium : " At
Emcsa, St. Simon, confessor, surnamed Salus, who
became a fool for Christ ; but his profound wisdom
God declared by great miracles"
ST. EUTHYMIUS.
from his Life, by Cyrillus. a faithful cotemporary
writer.
EUTHYMIUS, surnamed the great was born at Melitenc
in the lesser Armenia, of noble and virtuous parents,
anno 377. He was a child of prayer, his parents hav
ing obtained him of God after a long barrenness, by
the intercession of St. Polyceutus, the martyr ; and
having dedicated him to God from his mother s womb,
at the age of three years he was put in the hands of
the holy bishop Otteus, and from that time was
brought up like another Samuel, in the temple of
God, in the exercises of any early piety, and in the
study of the holy scriptures, on which he constantly
ST. KUTHYMIUS. 273
meditated, even in those leisure hours which others of
his age spend in their diversions. He was ordained
lector when yet a bo} T , and gradually promoted to the
higher orders, giving great edification through them
, ill, till he was thought worthy of the priestly function
and then had the conduct, by commission, from th(3
bishop, of all the i^onasteries of the diocese of Meli-
tene. In the mean time it was his custom to retire a f ,
often as he could, from all other business to attend to
God and himself in solitude and silence, to which he
had a great inclination from his childhood, to spend a
great part of his time in prayer in the churches of the
martyrs, and to make an annual retreat alone by him
self during the whole time of Lent, in a desert moun
tain, at some distance from the city. His love for soli
tude and retirement still increasing upon him, at length
determined him to withdraw himself entirely from his
own country, his friends, and acquaintance, and to go
into the Holy Land ; where, after visiting and rever
encing the places consecrated by the mysteries of our
redemption, he chose for his abode a solitary place,
about six miles from Jerusalem, called Pharan, in the
neighborhood of a Laura, or residence of divers reli
gious men, living in separate cells at some distance
from each other, but meeting for their devotions io
the same church, as the hermits of Camalduli do &i
present.
This solitude was quite congenial with his incline
274 ST. EUTHYMIUS.
tions to retirement and silence, and therefore he male
himself a cell here, employing his hands in making
mats, or in other manual labors, that he might live
without being burthensome to any one, and be en
abled to relieve such as were in want, having his
heart entirely fixed on God, and making it his whole
study to please him. Here divine providence brought
him acquainted with a holy solitary, named Theoctis-
tus, who had his cell not far off, and who followed the
same manner of life ; and the likeness of their dispo
sitions united them so closely together in the bands
of a most perfect friendship and charity, that they
seemed to be animated with one and the same heart
and soul. Amongst other exercises of piety, these
two servants of God never failed to make every year
a spiritual retreat, which they began after the Epiph
any, and continued till Palm-Sunday. At this time
they quitted their cells and retired into the wilderness
of Cutila, where being wholly separated from all con
versation with mortals, they spent their whole time
with God in prayer and contemplation till Palm-Sun
day, when they returned home again, laden with the
spiritual riches which they had acquired in their re
treat, to offer them up to our Lord Jesus Christ, at
the festival of his passion and resurrection.
Euthymius had practised this for some years, wheE
he and Theoctistus, going according to their custom
intv the wilderness, were conducted by providence ta
ST. EUTHYMICS.
the banks of a rapid torrent, where they discovered
a large cavern of very difficult access, which they em
braced as a place assigned by heaven for their happi-
ress. Here they lived for some time, quite seclude.!
from all human society, having no other food whereon
to subsist but the wild herbs of the desert. But as
ihe Almighty designed to bring about the salvation
rf many souls by the means of these his servants, lie
Jid not suffer the place of their abode to remain long
a secret. They were at first discovered bv certain
shepherds, who published to the neighboring village
their place of residence and manner of life. This dis
covery brought about visits from the inhabitants, who
cheerfully furnished them with necessaries for their
temporal life, and in return received from them whole-
s-me instructions and exhortations, in order to their
et ?rnal life.
Shortly after the monks of Pharan also came to
vi. it them, when the sanctity of their discourse and
m inner of life moved two of them, Marinus and Lu
es;,, who were afterwards great Saints, and by degrees
inny others from other places, to put themselves un-
dt r their direction, so that after some time they built
a monastery in the same place, and converted their
ca\:rn into a church. Euthyrnius committed the di-
reiv.ion ard superintendency of this monastery to
The octistu-i, whilst lie himself enjoyed the sweets of
his belcT^d silence and repose, seated with Mary af
270 ST. EUTHYMIUS.
the feet of our Lord, yet so as often to interrupt his
contemplation, by laboring to purify the souls of hia
brethren from their stains, and, like a skilful physi
cian, to apply proper remedies for the cure of all their
evils ; for they came daily to discover their most
secret thoughts to him, and to receive the rules and
lessons of a spiritual life from his mouth, while Theoc-
tistus for his part did nothing without his advice and
concurrence.
He spoke to them all with the affection of n father,
and constantly incalculcated to them, "That they who
by their religious profession had renounced the world,
and the things of the world, should make it their
principal study to exercise themselves in humility and
obedience, and divest themselves of their own will ;
they should have always the hour of their death be
fore their eyes tremble at the apprehension of a mis
erable eternity, and continually aspire, with the most
ardent desires, after the kingdom of heaven ; that
they should also incessently employ themselves in
manual labors, more especially when of an age in
which the passions of youth stand in need of being
kept under, for in that case the body must be brought
down by labor, that it may be obliged to submit to
the spirit ; and that they should ever remember both
the example and tbe doctrine of St. Paul, who says,
2 Thess. iii. 10. If any man ivill not work, neitJier
let him eat t &c. He also strenuously recommended
ST. EUTHTMIU9. 277
iilence, particularly in church and at rne^is, and could
never endure to see any of the young religious, by a
motion of their own will, affect to appear more aus
tere than the rest in fasting, being desirous that, ac
cording to the precept of the Gospel, they should ra
ther hide their good works than make them known.
He preferred that kind of abstinence, as the most com
mendable, which at every meal, and upon every oc
casion, restrains the appetite from taking its fill, and
always retrenches, without ostentation, some part of
what it craves. He added, that they should always
be upon their guard to resist every irregular desire ;
that they should carry their arms always about
with them to defend themselves again t their invisible
enemies, and meditate day and night upon the law of
God.
Whilst Euthymius was in this monastery, Aspebet,
governor of a canton of Saracens, brought his son Te-
rebon, who had quite lost the use of one half of his
body by a dead palsy, to be cured by the Saint. The
religious seeing a multitude of these barbarians coin
ing towards their monastery were all in a fright ; but
Theoctistus, as Euthymius was then employed in his
spiritual exercises, encouraged them ; and going forth
to meet the band, he asked them what they wanted ?
Aspebet answered, we want to see Euthymius. He
is in his retirement, said Theoctistus, and will neither
lee nor speak to any one till Saturday Then Aspo*
34
278 ST. EUTHYMIUS.
bet showed him his son, whose whole right side wai
withered in such a manner as to appear quite dead,
and made a sign to the youth to tell him his case,
The boy said he had been struck with this disorder
in Persia, where his father then resided in the service
cf king Isdegerdes ; that in order to his cure they had
not only employed all the natural remedies of physic,
but also the secrets of magic, to no effect ; and that
since he came with his father into Arabia, they had
ngain tried new experiments upon him, but all to no
purpose. Wherefore finding that there was no suc
cor to be had from man, he had turned his thoughts
CD
towards the great God that made man, and prayed to
him one night with great fervor, to restore him to
health, promising in that case, that he would dedicate
himself to his service, and become a Christian. That
after this prayer he had fallen asleep and seen, in a
dream, a venerable monk, who said his name was
Euthymius ; that he lived upon the bank of the tor
rent in the wilderness, near the road that leads to
Jericho, at about ten miles distance from Jerusalem :
and that if he desired to be cured, and was disposed
to fulfil his promise, he should come to him, and that
God would restore him again to his health.
Theoctistus having heard this, went in and related
the whole to Euthymius, and both of them concluding
that the visions must certainly have come from God,
the Saint interrupted his retreat upon this occasion
ST. EaTHYMIUS. 279
and going out prayed over the young man, and made
the sign of the cross upon him, at which he was in an
instant perfectly cured, to the great astonishment of
the multitude of barbarians present, who were all con
verted upon the spot, and after proper instructions re
ceived baptism. Aspebet took the name of Peter, and
made such progress in Christian piety, as to be after
wards ordained bishop of the Saracens, and Maris his
brother-in-law, quitted the world entirely to become a
disciple of St. Euthymius.
The fame of this great miracle being spread through
out the country, brought such numbers from all parts
to visit the Saint, and seek the cure of their maladies
which they usually obtained by his prayers, that partly
to avoid the danger of vain-glory, and partly to enjoy
his belovod solitude with more freedom, taking with
him a holy man whose name was Domitian, he with
drew himself privately from his monastery into the
desert of Kuban, that lies more to the south, near the
lake of Sodom. Here for some time he fixed his
abode in a high mountain, on the top of which he
discovered a well, and some ancient ruins, with which
he built a chapel and an altar, living the whole time
on the wild herbs he found there. From hence he
went to the desert of Ziph, wher*~ David formerly had
concealed himself when he was persecuted by Saul,
the recollection of which pleased him much ; but it
was not long before the inhabitants of a neighboring
280 ST. EUTHYMIUS.
town, called Auistobulias, found him out, by means of
a young man possessed by an evil spirit, who had fre
quently the name of Euthymius in his mouth, and
was wonderfully delivered as soon as he was brought
within sight of the Saint. This miracle brought him
many disciples, for whom the people of the neighbor
hood built a monastery, which the Saint for some
time directed in the ways of religious perfection.
But his love of solitude induced him to quit this mon
astery also, where he found himself much importuned
and distracted by visitors from all parts, and to seek
out with his companion Domitian a place more agree
able to his inclination for retnement, which he at
length met with in a cavern not far distant from his
former monastery. Theoctistus, whom he had left su
perior there, with all the rest of the brethren, besought
him to retnrn to them again : but the most they could
obtain of him was, that he would visit them every
Sunday, and be present at their assemblies.
Aspebet, now named Peter, hearing where the
Saint was, introduced a great number of the Saracens
x> him who were desirious of becoming Christians,
ffhpm Euthymius instructed and baptized. These
new converts being desirous of remaining under his
direction, he appointed them a place at a small dis
tance for the building themselves a church and other
dwellings, where he often visited them to instruct them
in the way of eternal life, till finding them sufficiently
ST. EUTHTMIUS. 281
grounded in Christian piety, he procured them a priest
and some deacons for the care of their church, and the
administration of the sacraments. But as by the
daily arrival of many more, the number of his converts
became very considerable, he proposed to Juvenal, the
patriarch of Jerusalem, to give them also a bishop,
who might take charge of all the Saracens of Pales
tine. The patriarch readily complied with the Saint s
proposition, and ordained Aspebet, or Peter, to this
function, by whose means God daily added others to
his church.
Hitherto Euthymius, through his love of solitude,
had recommended all such as resorted to him, in order
to embrace a religious life, to the monastery of Theoc-
tistus, till he was admonished in a vision to build a
laura And church for the reception of such as desired
to put themselves under his direction, which was soon
filled with a multitude of religious souls. The number
of the monks, joined to the barrenness of the place,
made it difficult to procure sufficient provisions in that
wilderness ; but the providence of God never forsook
his servants whose whole care was to please him. It
happened one day, that four hundred Armenians, in
returning from Jerusalem toward the Jor.lan, missed
their way, and came down to the laura of Euthymius.
The Saint seeing them, immediately gave orders that
they should be hospitably entertained. Domitian re
presented to him, that the community was reduced ta
882 ST. EUTHYMIUS.
so great straits that they had not "bread enough fof
the brethren, not even for one meal. The Saint, full
of confidence in God, bid him go to the bakehouse,
and see what he should find there. He obeyed, and
found the room covered with bread and other provi
sions in such abundance that he could hardly thrust
the door open.
God also favored his servant with the gifts of pro
phecy, of which our author mentions several remark
able instances. As to the manner of life which he
here followed, he assures us, from the testimony of
those that were the best acquainted with him, that he
was never seen to eat but on Saturdays or Sundays
that he never wilfully broke silence nor opened his lips
but when necessity obliged him to speak, that he
never laid himself down to repose, but slept sitting
and adds, that he was a close imitator of the great St.
Arsenius, and was highly delighted with hearing from
the religious who came from Egypt the particulars of
his life and conversation. He had always these words
of Arsenius present in hi? minfl. ; Arsenius, Arsenius,
on what account didst thou leave the world ? and strive
to copy out in his own practice all the great exam
ples that Saint had given of humility recollection
poverty of spirit love of silence and solitude per-
etual compunction of heart profusion of tears in the
ight of God and continual watching, fasting and
prayer
ST. EUTHYMIUS. 283
There happened in those days so great a drought in
Palestine, that it seemed, according to the expression
of the Scripture, as if the heavens were of brass, and
the earth of iron. The cisterns and receptacles which
they had made for water were filled with nothing but
dust, and the whole country was reduced to the utmost
extremity for want of rain. As the evil increased
daily, an infinite multitude of the people of the towns
and villages round about, carrying crosses in their
hands, and singing Kyrie eleison, to implore the divine
mercy, came to the Saint on the very day when he
was going out, according to his custom, to make his
retreat in the wilderness, as a preparation for Easter,
The sight of their distress moved him to compassion,
and he spoke to them as follows : " My children, as for
oiy part, I am but a wretched sinner, and stand more
in need than any other of the mercy of God, especially
at this time in which we see his wrath thus enkindled
against sinners, and therefore I am not so bold as to
dare to lift up my eyes to him, as I know that he
>ends these afflictions when he pleases ; and that, as
10 one can shut when he is pleased to open, so no one
;an open when he is pleased to shut. Our sins have
leparated us from him we have disfigured his image
we have defiled his temple we have suffered our
selves to be carried away by our passions ; envy and
avarice reign amongst us, and our hatred against each
other render us Wefril to him : but as he is the foun-
284 ST. EUTHYMIUS.
tain of all goodness, and as his rrtercy knows no
bounds, let us all prostrate ourselves before his foce,
and pray to him from the very bottom of our hearts,
and I make no doubt but that he will forgive us, and
give us a proof of his fatherly love by the seasonable
aid he will send us ; for as David says, The Lord is
near to all them that call upon him? After he had
thus spoken to the people, all cried out, begging that
he would pray for them ; whereupon, after exhorting
them to join in prayer to the Lord with the greatest
fervor of which they were capable, he retired with his
religious into their oratory, and lying prostrate on the
ground with many tears implored the divine mercy ;
when behold a sudden wind arose, the heavens were
obscured by thick clouds, and immediately such an
abundance of rain came pouring down as quite soaked
the whole earth which was followed by the most fruit
ful year that had ever been known in Palestine in
the memory of man.
The Saint had such an extraordinary zeal for the
maintenance of the purity of the Catholic faith, that
he, who was otherwise the meekest of men, could not
endure the obstinate abettors of condemned errors.
In his days a wicked heresy was broached by Eutychea,
a monk of Constantinople, who denied the distinction
of the divine and human nature in Christ. Though
his impious doctrine was condemned by the Council
of Chalcedon. still there were not wanting many chil
8T. EUTHYMIUS. 285
dren of iniquity, who instead of submitting to thra
great authority, spread abroad such infamous slanders
against that council, and misrepresentations of the
Catholic doctrine, as alienated the minds of many from
the faith ; the principal of whom was Theodosius, a
monk of Palestine, who under a religious habit cover
ed a diabolical spirit, and by his wicked insinuations
and downright calumnies, prejudiced the mind of the
empress Eudocia, who was at that time in Palestine,
against the council, and by the means of her interest,
and the great liberalities she exercised towards the re
ligious, gained the greatest part of them over to the
Eutychian faction, the disciples of St. Euthymius ex-
cepted. Not content with this, having intruded him
self into the patriarchal see of Jerusalem, he declared
open war against all such as opposed themselves to
his impiety, banished the orthodox bishops from their
sees, and even imbrued his hands in the blood of some
of them. In the mean time Euthymius opposed him
self as a wall for the house of Israel, and constantly
refused to have any manner of communication with
this false patriarch ; but as he was continually ply
ing him with messages, in order to bring him over to
bis side, by reason of the neighborhood of the laura
f the Saint to the city of Jerusalem, he assembled
his disciples, and having powerfully exhorted them to
constancy in the Catholic faith, he withdrew into the
desert of Ruban, where he remained till the usurper
gg8 ST. EUTHYMIU3.
was obliged to quit Jerusalem, and the patriarch Jtt
venal was restored to his see.
In the mean time he brought back to the Church
an excellent anchoret, whose name was Gerasimus,
who had been also imposed upon, with many others,
and drawn in to be an abettor of the impious Theodo-
sious, till hearing of the eminent sanctity of Euthy-
mius, he went to confer with him in the wilderness of
Ruban, and by his heavenly discourses was fully re
claimed from his error, and conceived a deep and bit
ter regret at having suffered himself to be deceived,
for which he did severe penance. His example was
followed by four other anchorets, who, in like manner,
renounced the communion of Theodosius. Gerasi-
mus afterwards built a laura and a monastery near
the Jordan, where he trained up many souls in great
perfection, and closed a life of extraordinary sanctity
by so happy a death as to have his name enrolled
amongst the saints. See the Roman Martyrology,
March the fifth.
The empress Eudocia, nfter having for a long time
resisted the solicitations of her nearest relations, be
gan at length to open her eyes to the bright rays of
the catholic truth, and in order to her instruction
therein she sent to St. Simon Stylites, as one to whom
God imparted extraordinary lights to direct souls in
the way of salvation, and opened to him, by her ines-
aenger, the bishop Anastasius, the whole state of Ue>
ST. EUTHVMIUS.
interior. The Saint exhorted her to disengage her
self effect jally from the nets of Satan in which hei
soul had been entangled by the means of the impious
Theodosious, and for this purpose desired she would
address herself to St. Euthymius, and to receive from
liis mouth the pure words of life. Having complied
with the advice of the Saint, and being reconciled to
the Catholic Church, her example was followed by
great numbers both of the religious and laity. This
princess, after having built a great many churches,
monasteries, and hospitals, conceived a design of ex
tending her beneficence also to the laura of St. Eu
thymius, which the Saint had founded in great pov
erty : but before she had declared her mind to any
one living, Euthymius, who by a divine light often
discovered the secrets of hearts, told her, " Daughter,
your departure out of this world is near at hand ;
wherefore, instead of busying yourself with all these
cares, attend to your own interior, and think of pre
paring yourself for your journey hence, rather than
of settling revenues upon us ; we want nothing else
of you, but that you would remember us in your
prayers." The empress followed his advice, and some
months after made a happy end.
Amongst other favors which our Lord did to his
sen-ant Euthymius, our author relates, from the testi
mony of the anchoret Cyriacus, who learnt it from
two eye-witnesses, that me day whilst the Saint wa*
288 ST. EUTHYMIU8.
laying mass, a bright fire was seen to come dowi
upon his head, which encompassed both him and his
disciple Domitian, and remained from the Sanctu*
till after the communion. He was also often favored
with the vision of angels at the time of his offering
the holy sacrifice ; and when he distributed the holy
communion, he saw in spirit the different dispositions
of the communicants ; perceiving how the sacred host
cast rays of light upon some, and darkness upon others,
who, by being unworthy, received it to their own con
demnation. The Saint was so affected with this vision,
as to be ever after perpetually inculcating to his relig
ious, the necessity of keeping their conscience always
pure, that they may worthily approach to the divine
mysteries : that holy things were for holy persons :
and therefore when any of them found their conscience
charged with the guilt, either of hatred, or the desire
of revenge, upon receiving an injury ; or of envy, or
of wrath, or of pride, or of speaking evil of their
neighbor, or of entertaining loose thoughts or criminal
desires, or of any other vice, they should by no means
present themselves at the divine table, till they had in
a proper manner, expiated their sins by penance.
And now the man of God, after having passed
about sixty-seven years in the deserts of Palestine,
which by this time he had peopled with a multitude
of Saints, was given to understand, by divine revela
tion, that, the time of laying down his earthly taben
ST. EUTllYMlttS, ^89
nacie was near at liana. It was his custom, after the
Epiphany, to begin his annual retreat, and to with
draw himself into the remoter parts of the wilderness,
hiiere he continued his spiritual exercises till Holy
Week. Wherefore, his disciples Elias and Martyrius
(both of them afterwards, according- to his prediction,
patriarchs of Jerusalem), who were used to accompany
him on this occasion, came on the octave of that fes
tival to ask him if they were not to set out with him
on the day following? The saint replied, that he
would spend that week with them at home in the
laura, but that on Saturday at midnight he would
leave them. He passed the vigil of the feast of St.
Antony, Jan. 17, with them in prayer, .and after the
morning lauds, told them this was the. last vigil he
should keep with them. Then having ordered all bin
religious to be assembled, delivered to them an excel
lent discourse, telling them that his hour was now at
hand, and conjuring them, if they had any regard 01
affection for him, to show it, by faithfully and con
stantly practising the lessons he had taught them. Is
particular he recommended to them charity and hu
mility as the two principal ingredients of Christian
perfection, telling them, that if all Christians wero
bound to exercise themselves in these virtues, much
more they who by their religious profession had in a
particular manner consecrated themselves to Jestw
Christ, to the end,, that being freed from all secular
sa
290 ST. EUTHYMIU8.
cares and ejections, they might have no other solic
it ade but to please him. " Labor then," said he, " my
brethren, with all your might to keep both your
bodies and minds ever chaste ; continue all of you
together to praise and glorify God ; practise with all
possible diligence the rule he has given us, do all in
your power to comfort the afflicted, and to fortify by
your exhortations and instructions such amongst the
brethren as labor under temptations, that they may
not fall a pray to the enemy. Let your gate be
always open to hospitality ; divide the little you
have with the poor and indigent, and the divine boun
ty will not fail to furnish you with all that shall be
needful for yourselves."
After having spoken to this effect, he asked them
whom they desired to have for their superior after his
death ? They all, with one voice, desired it might be
Domitian. " That cannot be," said the Saint, " for he
shall not survive me above seven days." Whereupon
they made choice of Elias, to whom the Saint earnest
ly recommended the care of his ilock. After this they
retired, and Domitian alone remained with the Saint,
who, after three days departed to our Lord at the
precise time he had foretold, and his happy soul was
seen at that very time by St. Gerasimus carried up by
angels towards her heavenly country. His individual
companion Domitian, within seven da.vs, took tha
ame happy road, being invited on the eve of his deatb
ST. THEODSIUS THE CENOBIARCH. 291
in a vision in his sleep, by St. Euthymius, to come
with him to the regions of light and life everlasting,
where they should live together for ever in the king
dom of their Father. St. Euthymius has a place in
the Roman Martyrology on the twentieth of January.
ST. THEODOSIUS THE CENOBIARCH.
From, a cotemporary Writer, published "by Bollandus.
THEODOSIUS, surnamed the Cenobiarch, from the mul
titude of religious whom he trained up in a convent
ual life, was born near Cesarea in Cappadocia, anno
423. Being educated by his parents in the fear of
God, he from his tender years gave such proofs of vir
tue and piety as to be ordained a lector to read the
holy Scriptures to the faithful in the church. What,
he read to others penetrated and made a deep impres
sion on his own heart. The words of God to Abra
ham, Gen. xii. Go forth out of thy country, and
from thy kindred, and out of thy father s house, <fec.
affected him as much as if they had been addressed
to himself; as also that promise of our Lord in the
Gospel of conferring everlasting life on those who
should quit all things for love of him. By frequently
meditating on these and such like passages of holy
292 ST. THEODOSIU3 THE CENOBIARCH.
writ, he was at length determined to follow the call
of God, and forsake every thing in this world, that he
might more securely find the kingdom of heaven.
In consequence of this resolution he set out to go
find visit the holy places at Jerusalem, taking Antioch
in his way, in the neighborhood of which St. Simon
Stylites was then living upon his pillar. Theodosius
went to see the Saint, being desirous to recommend
himself to Ins prayers, and receive his benediction.
No sooner had he come near the pillar, than Simon
cried out, Welcome Theodosius, servant of God, and
presently desired he would ascend to him by a ladder.
After mutual embraces, he foretold to him all that
.should afterwards befal him, and in particular that he
should have the direction of a numerous flock, and
should rescue by the aid of divine grace, many souls
from the jaws of the infernal wolf. Theodosius being
confirmed in his good resolution by his conference
with so great a Saint, proceeded in his journey to Je
rusalem, where, after reverencing the holv places, ho
went and placed himself under the direction of Lon-
ginus, an eminent servant of God, who dwelt by him
self in a small lodge in the tower of David, where
partly under him, partly under Marinus and Lucas,
disciples of St. Euthymius, he learnt the true science
of the saints to such perfection, as to become himself
a most excellent master and teacher, both by word
and example, of this heavenly discipline.
ST. THEODOSIUS THE CENOBIARCH. 293
Some time after he was moved, by divine inspira
tion, to seek a more retired solitude, where he might
lead an anchoretical life. For this purpose, withdrawing
himself into the wilderness, he made choice of a cav
ern, which he found on the side of a mountain, for the
place of his habitation during the remainder of the
days of his mortality. Here he lived for the space of
thirty years in a mortal body, as if he had been an
immortal spirit, in the constant exercise of watching,
fasting and prayer, together with such a continual re
collection of thought, fervor of spirit, humility of
heart, and abundance of tears, as could not fail to
draw down the graces and gifts of the spirit of God,
in the most abundant manner upon his soul. His
only food during this long period of time, was dates
or pulse, moistened in cold water, or wild herbs, with
out any bread whatsoever. He embraced labors with
as much ardor as others do their pleasures, and avoided
pleasures as much as others do labors. Although
he desired nothing so much as to live concealed from
the eyes of men, yet it was impossible for him to keep
himself so secretly in his cavern, but that the bright
light of his extraordinary sanctity should break out
and cast its rays both far and near, and invite many
to him, who were desirous to place themselves under
his conduct, and learn the secrets of religious perfec
fection. It was with difficulty he at first received any
one into his company ; but his charitable solicitude foi
294 ST. THEODOSIUS THE CENOBIARCB.
the salvation of the souls of his neighbors, prevailed
over his love of solitude, and the great success which
attended his conduct and direction of souls, proved
that it was the holy will of God he should be thus
employed.
Although the number of his disciples did not at the
beginning exceed six or seven, who all lived with him
in his cavern, yet they gradually increased ; and as
they all made it their business to seek in the first place
the kingdom of God with all their power, divine Pro*
vidence never failed to add over and above the neces
saries of this present life. One Easter-eve, when the
Saint had now twelve disciples with him in his cavern,
it happened that they had nothing whatever to eat :
but what gave them most concern was, that they had
not even bread for the divine sacrifice. This they re
presented to their holy superior, who being full of
confidence in God, bid them nevertheless prepare the
altar for the celebrating mass on Easter-day ; when
behold, about sun-set Providence sent a man to their
cavern with two mules laden with bread and other
provisions in such quantity as abundantly sufficed them
until Whitsuntide. At another time, when they were
reduced to the same extremity, Providence sent them
i supply in a manner still more remarkable, which
happened thus : As a man was leading his horse
with a load of provisions to some other place, when
&e came into the neighborhood of the cavern whew
ST. THEODOSIUS THE CENOBIARCH. 295
the servants of God dwelt, he could not, with all his
might, force his horse to go forward ; so that conceiv
ing there rtust be something supernatural in the case,
he gave him liberty of *he bridle to go which way ho
pleased. The horse being then left to himself, imme
diately, as if he were guided by an invisible hand,
went straight up to the cavern, where the master per
ceiving the distress of this holy community, relieved
them very plentifully, and glorified God for having
thus wonderfully made him the instrument of his di
vine goodness, in supplying his servants with food.
But the number of the disciples of the Saint,
amongst whom were persons considerable for their
worldly birth and fortune, daily increasing, and his
cavern beina^ too small to contain them, they with dif
ficulty prevailed upon "him to consent to the building
a spacious monastery and a church, close by, in the
very place appointed to him by heaven, by the re
markable circumstance of the coals in his censor catch
ing fire of themselves. Here he received all that
came to him ; and as their number became very con
siderable, he was afterwards obliged to add several
other buildings, as well for the relief of the spiritual as
the corporal necessities of the multitude that resorted
to him. In no place was hospitality exercised with
greater affection, or with more cheerfulness and joy
than in this monastery ; for amongst all the virtues of
the Saint, his tender compassion and charity for his
296 ST. THEODOSIUS THE CENOBIARCH,
neighbors, and diligence in relieving all their necessi
ties, seemed to claim the first place. So great was his
solicitude for the sick and distressed, that he even built
several hospitals and infirmaries about his monastery
for their accommodation ; of which extensive charity
of his servant, God was pleased to testify his approba
tion more than once in a miraculous manner. At the
time of a great famine, when an incredible multitude
of people flocked to the monastery upon a Palm-Sun
day, and the religious not having wherewith to feed
so great a crowd, would have kept the gates shut, the
Saint, trusting in God, bid them open the gates and
give them all to eat. And though the number was
so great as to fill every part of the house, yet by a
miracle not unlike that wrought by our Lord in feed
ing the five thousand in the desert, they all eat and
were filled ; and there still remained more bread than
they had at first. The like miracle happened also
another time, upon the feast of the Annunciation of
the Blessed Virgin.
As to the disciples of our Saint, the number who
put themselves under his conduct was so great, that,
according to our author, during the time of his supe
riority, he buried with his own hands no less than six
hundred and ninety-three religious men, whom he had
trained up in the way of sanctity ; and that his suc
cessor, St. Sophronius, did as much for four hundred
more, who both in life and death followed the same
ST. THEODOSIUS THE CENOBIARCH. 297
happy course. lie also adds, that many illustrious
bishops and abbots were taken out of this monastery ;
that many others who had been here brought up un
der our Saint, betook themselves afterwards to an an-
choretical life, in which they became eminent for holi
ness ; that several who had followed the profession
of arms quitted the service of Caesar to enrol them
selves amongst the soldiers of Jesus Christ, and to
learn his -heavenly discipline of Theodosius ; that
many who enjoyed posts of honor in the world, as
well as several who were renowned for their learning,
came also to our Saint, to take up, under his direction,
the sweet yoke of Christian simplicity and humility,
and become his scholars in the study of the science of
the saints. His conduct towards all who were under
his care was ever regulated by so consummate a pru
dence as to accommodate his directions and prescrip
tions to the different exigencies and dispositions, as
well as to the strength of his disciples. Whenever
any of them were guilty of a fault, instead of penances,
he only used words of admonition, correction, and ex
hortation, which were animated with such unction as
made them penetrate into the very midst of their souls.
In these corrections he had the art of associating meek
ness and affability with a just severity, in so engaging
a manner as to make himself at once be both feared
and loved. The lessons of all virtues which he c^ave
to others, were enforced by his own practice. His
298 ST. THEODOSIUS THE CENOBIARCH.
conversation was always extremely edifying and in
structive, and his spirit ever attentive to God. Wheth
er alone or in company, or in whatsoever manner he
was employed, his temper was ever calm and e-ver,,
always the same. His chief delight consisted in read
ing the holy Scriptures, which he made the subject of
his perpetual meditation both day and night, even to
the day of his death. Although our Saint had not
been educated to any degree in secular learning, nor
ever studied the rules of human eloquence, yet in the
discourses which he delivered to his disciples, he far
excelled the greatest orators in the arts of moving and
exciting the affections, and inflaming the heart ; be
cause his words did not proceed from human wisdom,
but from divine grace and the spirit of God. He was
always so great an admirer and imitator of St. Basil,
that in his words and with his spirit he would often
address himself to his monks to the following effect :
" I beseech you, my children, by the charity of our
Lord Jesus Christ, who delivered himself up to death
for our sins, let us, once for all be quite in earnest, as
leriously to set about the business of saving our souls.
Let us conceive a lively sorrow for having passed our
time hitherto so unprofitably ; let us now at least be
gin to fight manfully in the service of God and of his
Son Jesus Christ, that we may be made partakers one
day in their glory. Let us shake off this sluggishness
and lassitude, which makes us still love to put off from
ST. THEODOSIUS THE CENOBIARCH. 299
day to day the laboring in good earnest to advance in
virtue ; for if by suffering ourselves to be deceived by
ihe enemy, we be found void of good works here, we
can have no pretension hereafter to the joys of heaven,
but shall hereafter lament in vain for having let slip
the time and means of working out our salvation,
when it shall not be in our power to recover them.
The nature of this life, and of that which is to come,
are quite opposite ; the one is a time of penance, and
the other of reward ; the one a time of labor, the
other of repose ; the one a time of suffering, and the
other of consolation. At present God is infinitely
good to those who turn from their evil ways, and are
converted to him ; but then he shall be a just and h*
exorable judge, who will call us to a strict account fo
all our thoughts, words, and actions. Now he is pa
tient, but then he shall be terrible. How long then
shall we remain deaf to the voice of Jesus Christ, who
invites us to the possession of an eternal inheritance ?
Shall we never awake out of this long and profound
sleep ? Shall we not, now at least, renounce our ill-
spent life, to embrace evangelical perfection ? Ah !
tvhy do we not tremble at the thoughts of that dread
ful day of the Lord, when he shall receive those whose
good works shall entitle them to a place at his right
hand, into his kingdom ; and shall condemn thoss
wjio, being void of good works, shall be placed at his
left, to eternal fire ? We say indeed that we desire ta
800 ST. THEODOSIUS THE CENOBLARCH.
go to heaven ; but do we labor in earnest ; do we pur
sue the means of acquiring and securing to ourselves
that eternal kingdom ? It we neglect to put in prac
tice what our Lord has commanded, it is in vain that
we flatter ourselves with the expectation of receiving
from him that glorious recompense wherewith he will
reward those only who shall persevere to the end in
fighting courageously against sin."
So far the Saint in the words of St. Brasil.
St. Theodosius was also inflamed with an extraor
dinary zoal for maintaining the Catholic faith against
all condemned heresies ; of which he gave signal
proofs during the reign of the emperor Anastasius,
who was a great abettor of tho Eutychian heresy, con
demned by the general council of Chalcedon. This
prince, in hopes of drawing our Saint over to favor his
impious tenets, sent him a very considerable sum of
money by the way of an alms, as he pretended, for the
relief of the poor, and the comfort of his religious in
their sicknesses. The Saint thought it not prudent to
offend the emperor, by refusing his charity, though he
suspected that an 511 design lay concealed under this
specious pretence. Not long after Anastasius sent to
desire of him a confession of his faith, agreeable to
the Eutychian heresy. Theodosius, instead of coming
into his measures, declared himself ready to suffer a
thousand deaths, rather than betray his conscience, or
consent to heresy. The emperor, though chagrined
ST. THEODOSIUS THE CENOBIARCH. 301
and disappointed, dissembled his resentment, and pro
ceeded at that time no farther: but not long after
be furiously attacked the Catholic faith, and raised a
violent persecution against its professors. In this dis
tressed state of the church, when the orthodox pastors
were either banished from their churches, or intimi
dated into a criminal silence, which is always advan
tageous to error, when the heretics triumphed, and
a great part of the people either joined with them, or
were in doubt which side to take, the Saint seeing the
dreadful danger to which the sheep of Christ lay ex
posed in the midst of these wolves, fearless of the raire
I O
of the emperor, or of the violence of his officers and
ministers, went boldly into the great church of Jeru
salem, at the time of the divine service, and going up
to the tribune from whence the holy Scriptures used
to be read to the people, pronounced a loud anathema
against all who did not receive and revere, like the
four Gospels, the four general councils of Nice,
Constantinople, Ephesus, and Chalcedon, in which
the Incarnation of the Son of God, had been defined
and declared against the Arians, Macedonians, Nesto-
fians, and Eutychians. This courageous profession of
h s faith in so public and solemn a mariner, made a
wonderful impression on the minds of the people in
favor of the Catholic religion, and struck all who heard
him with such astonishment, that none of his adver
saries, as he passed through the crowd to go out of
2fi
802 ST. THEODOSIUS THE CENOBIARCH.
the church, durst so much as open their mouths to
Fpeak one word to him, much less presume to stop
him. After this he was seized with a long and pain
ful illness, which he bore with extraordinary patience
and fortitude ; until it pleased his Divine Master to
call him to the enjoyment of that reward which he
has prepared for all who labor and suffer for his sake.
Theodoret, in his Philotheus, has given us the acts
of another saint, named also Theodosius, a native of
Antioch, who led a life of wonderful austerity and
sanctity in a mountain of Cilicia, ever praying and
singing psalms, without ceasing to labor with his
hands, and training up many disciples in the same ex
ercises. In order to accommodate the monastery he
had built for them, he miraculously caused a neve*-
failing stream of water to flow from the hard rock on
which it was erected. So great and general was th>
esteem in which he was held, even amongst the bar
barians and infidels, on account of his sanctity and
miracles, that such as were in danger at sea, though
at ever so great a distance off from his place of resi
dence, who called upon the God of Theodosius, sav
the tempest immediately cease by the invocation of
his name. He flovrished in the fourth century.
ST. SABAS. 303
ST. SABAS.
From his Life "by Cyrillus, a faithfu.. cotempcrary
Writer.
SABAS, or Sabbas, was born at Mutalascus, a smaJl
town in the district of Cesarea, in Cappadocia, anno
437. His father, who was an officer in the army,
being obliged to go to Alexandria, in Egypt, left his
son, who was then but five years old, together with
his estate, in the care of an uncle, whose name was
Hermias. But the evil treatment Sabas met with
from his aunt, the wife of Hermias, obliged him to
leave them, and go to another uncle, named Gregory
This produced a violent contest between the two
orothers which should have the care of his person
and of his estate, which inspired in the nephew,
young as he then was, so great a disgust for the
world, that resolving to quit it, he retired to a monas
tery called Flavian, at about three miles distance from
Mutalascus, where the abbot received him, though as
yet but a child, amongst his religious, and took care
to have him well instructed in the knowledge of the
boly Scriptures, and of all things necessary to acquit
himself worthily of so holy a profession. Here, as
he was working in the garden one day, he obser.ed
an apple tree laden with fruit, which appeared so \ ..rf
304 ST. SARAS.
fair and tempting*, that he plucked off one of them with
a design to eat it ; but immediately suspecting it to be a
snare of the old serpent, who had heretofore driven our
first parents out of paradise, by tempting them to eat
of the forbidden fruit, and that he throws out no baits
so efficacious to ensnare youth as that of pleasure ;
after reproaching himself with the fault he had com
mitted, he flung down the apple, trod it under foot,
and made a resolution never to eat of that kind of
fruit as long as he lived. From that day forward he
led a life of the most extraordinary abstinence with
respect to eating and drinking. As to sleep, he slept
no longer than the necessity of nature absolutely re
quired ; and excepting the time whilst his hands were
lifted up to God in prayer, they were perpetually em
ployed in some manual labor, for he dreaded nothing
more than idleness, on account of the opportunity it
affords the enemy to creep insensibly into the soul. By
this continual application of all his faculties to attain
to perfection, he made such a progress in the way of
virtue, that not one of the religious, who were to the
number of seventy in this community, equalled him
in obedience and humility, or in any of the exercises
of an evangelical life.
His uncles, being at length reconciled together, both
joined in soliciting him to come out of the monastery,
and to settle himself h the world in a married life.
But he resisted all their solicitations, and with the leave
ST. SABAS. 305
of his superior, being now eighteen years old, went
away to Jerusalem, in order to reverence the holy
places, and then to visit the Saints that inhabited the
neighboring deserts, that he might acquire still greater
proficiency in the true science of the saints. Here
after a short stay in the monastery of St. Pasarion,
lie went and flung himself at the feet of the great
St. Euthymius, desiring to serve God under his holy
discipline. Euthymius told him he was as yet too
young for the solitary life of the laura, but sent him
to the neighboring monastery of his friend Theoctis-
tus, with a particular recommendation of him to the
abbot, as one who was likely to become a most illus
trious saint. In this monastery the young Sabas con
secrated himself entirely to divine love. He spent
the day in manual labors, and the night in fervent
prayer, and was ever ready, young and strong as he
was, to comfort and assist the brethren in their res
pective offices. He brought in water and wood for
the use of the community : regardless of his own
health, he took particular care of the sick, and was ever
the first and last at the divine office, which he always
recited with a most edifying devotion: in a word,
the religious were so charmed with his obedience and
humility, that they could not, without admiration, be
hold so great perfection in one of such tender years.
It happened about this time that one of the monks
obtained leave of the abbot to go to Alexandria, ia
306 ST. SABAS.
order to dispose of an inheritance that fell to him by
the death of his parents. Sabas, being ordered to ac
company him in this journey, unexpectedly met with
his own father and mother, who lived at Alexandria,
Having rejoiced excessively to see him, they endeavor
ed, by the most pressing soliciation, to prevail on him
to stay with them ; but Sabas, having set his hand to
the plough, absolutely refused to look back, remem-.
bering what our Lord had said, that such as love
father or mother more than him, are not worthy of
him. "If they, said he, who, after enrolling them
selves in the service of an earthly king run away from
their colors, are severely punished for their desertion,
what punishment then should not I deserve, if after
having engaged myself in the service of the King of
heaven, I should abandon so holy a warfare ? Where
fore cease, I beseech you, to persuade me to quit this
way of life, which I mid so advantageous to my soul,
or else you will oblige me to consider you no longer
as my parents and friends, but as strangers and ene
mies." They told him that if he would not stay with
them, he would at least accept of a considerable sum
of money, which they would have given him. But
this he also refused, and it was with much difficulty
that they prevailed upon him to receive three pieces
of silver ; which as soon as he returned to the monas
tery he immediately gave to the abbot, fearing noth
ing more than the demon of the love of money.
ST. SABAS. 307
After the death of the holy abbot Theoctistus, with
the approbation of St. Euthymius, he betook himself
to a cavern belonging to th3 monastery, where he
passed five days of the week in perfect solitude ; fast
ing, working, and praying the whole time. On the
Saturday and Sunday he performed his devotions in
the monastery, and then returning to his cavern, he
carried with him the materials of which he made
every week to the number of fifty baskets. And now
St. Euthymius, who used to call him the young old
man, by reason of his extraordinary wisdom, desired
to have him nearer himself, and therefore took him
along with him, when he entered upon his yearly re
treat, on the 14th January, into the desert of Ruban,
where he was accustomed to pass the holy time of
Lent. After they had walked for a long time together
over the barren sands of this vast wilderness, where
nothing green could grow, nor any water l>e found,
Sabas was so much exhausted with weariness and
thirst, that he could hold out no longer, but was
obliged to lay himself upon the ground like one half
dead. Euthymius pitying his distress, prostrated him
self in the presence of God, and cried out from the
bottom of his heart : " Thou seest, O my God, the
extremity to which this thy young soldier, who fights
under thy standard, is now reduced, be pleased there
fore to relieve and assist him by causing water to issue
forth out of this dry and shirsty land." Having
508 ST. SABAS.
finished this prayer, and thrust his staff three times
into the ground, behold there presently issued forth a
spring of clear and excellent water, from the drinking
whereof Sabas not only quenched his thirst, but found
in himself such vigor, strength, and comfort, as en
abled him cheerfully to support all that ho had after
wards to suffer in the desert.
After the death of St. Euthyrnius, Sabas retired into
the same wilderness near the river Jordan, which St.
Gerasimus at that time illustrated with the rays of his
sanctity. Here, according to custom, passing the
night on a solitary mountain in prayer, he was direct
ed by a heavenly vision to go and take up his abode
in a cavern to the east of the torrent of Siloe, with a
promise that God, who takes care of the meanest of
his creatures, would not fail to provide for him. Hav
ing immediately obeyed this ordinance of heaven, he
went down from the mountain, and was led, as it
were, by the hand to the cavern, which lay on the side
of a steep hill, of very difficult access. Here he lived
for some time, without any other food for his sub
sistence but the herbs that grew wild about his cave,
and being obliged to go six or seven miles for water,
which, with the utmost difficulty he carried up to his
lodging by means of a rope, which he made to han<r
down for that purpose from his cavern to the foot of
the hill. But divine providence at length conducted
Borne of the country people to the place, who ascend-
ST. SABAS. 309
Ing by the help of the rope to the cavern, and admir
ing the sanctity of the servant of God, from that time
forward furnished him with the little provisions he
stood in need of.
After he had dwelt about rive years in this solitary
cavern, God inspired him with a desire of exercising
his charity towards his neighbors, by receiving, in
structing, and directing as many as desired to quit the
tvorld, and to put themselves under his guidance in
the ways of God and religious perfection. To these
he gave excellent lessons of a spiritual life, and ap
pointed them separated spots of ground for building
their cells after the manner of a laura, which, in pro
cess of time, became the most considerable of any in
all Palestine. He built them also a chapel, wherein,
as often as any priest came into the wilderness, he
procured that the divine mysteries should be celebrat
ed ; for as to his own part, his humility made him de
cline the priestly dignity, of which he deemed himself
altogether unworthy. The first disciples of the Saint
were men of the most eminent virtue, so full of the
Spirit of God, that they lived in the wilderness like
angels in human bodies, continually employed in sing
ing the praises of their Maker. Their number was
bout three score and ten, amongst whom were several
who afterwards became founders and superiors of other
religious communities. Having at the beginning la
bored under great inconveniences, especially for want
510 ST. SABA*.
of water, which they were forced to fetch, as was ob
served before, from a spring that was seven miles dis
tant, the Saint one night in his devotions, earnestly
besought the Lord to remedy this evil, by affording
his servants a source of water nearer home ; when be
hold at the conclusion of his prayer he heard a noise,
and looking towards the place, he perceived by the
moonlight a wild ass making a hole in the ground
with his foot, and then bowing down his head, as if it
were to drink. The man of God conceiving by this
signal that his prayer was heard, went to the place,
and opening thr hole a little wider, a stream of living
water issued for h, which from that time never ceased
to flow through the midst of the laura, in such a man
ner, as neither to be swelled in winter nor to be di
minished in summer, though almost all the people of
the country reorted thither for water.
And no\v the number of those who came to place
themselves under his direction increased exceedingly ;
but, alas ! they were not all led by the same spirit
as their predecessor ; on the contrary, some of them
formed a faction against the holy abbot, and went to
Salustius, who upon the death of Martyrius was lately
made patriarch of Jerusalem, to desire he would give
th3in anothe- superior : for as Sabas was clownish and
simple, they wanted one who was a priest. The new
patriarch, who was no stranger to the merit of the
Baint, instead of regarding his accusers, sent for him
ST. SAB A3. 811
and ordained him priest in their presence, and con
firmed him in liis charge of abbot and superior ; and
going with him to the laura consecrated for him a
church, and erected an altar in a spacious subterrane
ous den, which had been shown to the man of God
hy a pillar of fire which reached from heaven to earth.
Many others after this resorted to the Saint to put
themselves under his discipline, amongst whom ^ere
several excellent men of the Armenian nation, to
whom the man of God made over his own first habi
tation with the neighboring oratory, in which he di
rected them to sing the praises of God in their native
language. About this time also the father of the
Saint having died at Alexandria, his mother Sophia
came to visit him, and having by his counsel entirely
renounced the world, passed the short time that re
mained of her life in preparing her soul, by spiritual
exercises, for a better, and made a most happy end
under his directions. The Saint consecrated a con
siderable sum of money which she bequeathed him, to
the service of God, by building two hospitals ; the
one for the entertainment of passengers, the other for
the religious of other communities who came to visit
his laura.
Our Saint was united in a most holy bond of friend
ship with the great St. Theodosius, and always joined
nim in promoting the cause of their common Lord, as
well in defending the purity of the catholic faith
ST. 8 ABAS.
against all the attacks of heresy, as in propagating re
ligious discipline. Their union was so remarkable,
that the people of Jerusalem called them the two
apostles ; and the patriarch Salustius, at the desire of
the religious of his district, put under their care all the
monasteries around Jerusalem, in such a manner that
Theodosius had the charge of all that lived in convents,
from whence he was named the Cenobiarch, and
Sabas the charge of all the anchorets and solitaries.
But Euthymius was the Saint whose life St. Sabas
particularly chose for the model of his own ; after his
example he withdrew himself every year into the most
remote part of the wilderness, and there passed the
whole time of Lent, till Palm-Sunday, in perfect soli
tude, fasting, and prayer. In one of these excursions
he was conducted by divine providence to a steep
mountain, on the top of which he found a cavern, and
in this cavern a holy anchoret who had lived there for
eight and thirty years upon nothing but wild herbs,
without either seeing or being seen during all that
time by any one. The edification he received by the
heavenly conversation of this man of God brought
Sabas thither again another year to receive his bene
diction, but he found him dead in the posture of one
at his prayers, and interred him in his cavern.
In another of these excursions he came to a hill
called Castel, lying at a great distance from all com
munication with men. This place he pitched upon to
BT. SABAS. 313
erect a monastery, and after the Easter holidays he led
thither a colony of his disciples, who found in the
neighborhood an old desolate building, which they
converted into a church, and afterwards built them
selves cells around it. As the first inhabitants of this
holy solitude were men of eminent virtue, wholly dis
engaged from all earthly cares and affections, our Lord
was pleased in the beginning to provide for their sub
sistence in a wonderful manner, by charging Marcian,
the superior of the monasteries of Bethlehem, in a
vision, to furnish them with all necessaries, which he
carefully executed.
In the mean time the malcontents of whom we
Bpoke before were gathering strength, by seducing se
veral others over to their faction, so that no less than
forty of the religious entered into a conspiracy against
the holy abbot, resolving to use all means in their
power to get rid of him. The Saint being apprised
of their design chose to withdraw himself quietly from
them, rather than proceed to any measures against
them which might be inconsistent with that meekness,
patience, and humility, which constitute the character
of a disciple of Jesus Christ. Wherefore retiring into
a desert, not far from the city of Scythopolis, he took
up his abode in a cavern near the river of Gadar. Al
though this cavern happened to be a lion s den, yet
the beast finding the Saint there, not only refrained
from offering him any violence, but quietly yielded up
814 ST. 8ABA8.
to him the possession of his dwelling-place. Here the
reputation of his sanctity, which could no where lie
long concealed, brought many to visit him from the
neighboring cities of Scythopolis and Gadara ; amongst
whom was a young gentleman named Basil, who by
an inspiration of heaven had entirely renounced the
world and came to dwell with Sabas in his cavern.
Some thieves who had imagined Basil to be rich, and
that he had carried off his money with him, came one
night in hopes of booty to visit the cavern ; but find
ing nothing, not even the necessaries of life, they were
struck with astonishment, and retired, not without
deep remorse for the evil they had proposed to com
mit, and a dread of meeting with some rigorous pun
ishment from the justice of God. This apprehension
was greatly increased, when a little after they had left
the cavern they saw some lions approaching, whose
terrible looks seemed to threaten them with immediate
death and destruction. In this extremity they be
thought themselves of the sanctity of Sabas, and com
manded the lions in the name, and by virtue of the
prayers of that venerable servant of God, to be gone ;
^hen behold they had no sooner pronounced the name
of Sabas, but these furious beasts turned their backs
upon them and ran away. This miracle not only
wrcught the total conversion of the thieves, but being
rumored abroad, brought such multitudes to visit th*
Saint as determined him, after having recommended
ST SAB AS. 315
his disciples to God and leaving to them the cell he
had lately built, to seek some other solitude, where he
might attend to his God with less distraction.
After some time he returned again to his laura,
where to his excessive grief he found no amendment
in the disposition of the malcontents, since whatsoever
he could either say or do to bring them to a righ
sense of their duty made them rather worse than bet
ter. Upon this he retired towards Nicopolis, and fixed
his abode for some time under a tree in an open field,
till the master of the field, admiring his sanctity, built
him a cell, which in a short time was converted into a
monastery. In the mean time the malcontents applied
to Elias the patriarch of Jerusalem for another supe
rior, pretending that Sabas was devoured by a lion.
The patriarch gave no credit to the fable ; and not
long after Sabas himself coming to Jerusalem to cele
brate the feast of the dedication of the Church, he
obliged him to return to his laura, with an order to
the rebels either to submit to him or depart. They
chose the latter, and retired towards the torrent of
Theon, and repaired some old cells which they found
there, and called this place the new laura. But aa
ithey were destitute of all things, and no one was will
ing to assist them, the Saint in his great charity, not
only labored to procure them all necessary provisions,
but went himself in person to carry them to them ;
oor did he cease to ply them with benefits, both for
816 ST. 8 ABAS.
their temporal and spiritual well-being, till overcoming
evil with good, he at length brought them over to dis
positions more suitable to the sanctity of their profes
sion, and established them in regular discipline under
a holy superior whom he appointed for them.
It would be endless to descend to all the particu
lars of the great things which St. Sabas did, during
the many years that remained of his life, for the glory
of God, for the sanctification of souls, and the
propagation of the kingdom of Christ, the spirit of
prophecy which he manifested on many occasions,
the great miracles God wrought by him, his labors
for the public good of the Church, and maintaining
the purity of faith, as well during the reign of Anas-
tasius, the Eutychian, as during that of his successors
Justin and Justinian, since these would suffice to fill
a volume, they are therefore omitted as exceeding the
bounds of our intended brevity. Wherefore we shall
only add, that as he always lived the life of a Saint, so
he died the death of a Saint, on the fifth of Decem
ber, (on which day he is honored by the church) anno
532, at the age of 94; and that after his death many
miracles were wro ight through his intercession.
ST. JOHN THE SILENT. 817
ST. JOHtf THE SILENT.
From his disciple Cyrillus, the same vrho -wrote the
Lives of S3. Euthymius and Sabaa.
JOHN, surnamecl Sttentiarius, or the Silent, from
his great affection to silence, was born in the lesser
Armenia, of illustrious and wealthy parents, anno 453,
who being themselves good Christians, gave him a
Christian education. At the age of eighteen he aban
doned the world, and employed that part of the es
tate which fell to him by the death of his father and
mother, in building a church in honor of the blessed
Virgin, together with a monastery into which he re
tired with ten other persons, who like himself were
desirous to think of nothing else but the salvation of
their souls. Here he led a life of the most perfect
purity of soul and body, joined with a most profound
humility. The heavenly prudence with which he con
ducted the religious committed to his charge recom
mended him first to the priestly character, and short
ly after, upon the death of the bishop of Colonia, de
termined the metropolitan, the archbishop of Sebaste,
to consecrate no other than him to fill up this vacancy.
In order thereto he sent for John, as if it were upon
some other business, and when he came, in spite ot
his remonstrances to the contrary, he ordained him
318 T. JOHN THE SILENT.
bishop. Being then about thirty-eight years of
age, he for ten years discharged himself in a most
edifying manner, of all the duties of the episcopal
ministry, continuing to practise the same religious
exercises as he had been accustomed to in his mon
astery.
Towards the latter end of this time, finding his
church and his clergy grievously oppressed by his
brother-in-law, the governor of the province, and that
all his remonstrances only served to make him still
worse, he took a journey to Constantinople, to seek a
remedy for these evils. Here having, with the assist
ance of the patriarch Euphymius, settled the affairs of
his diocese in the best manner he could, and following a
divine inspiration, having resolved totally to withdraw
himself from, the world, without acquainting any one
with his design, he privately got on board a ship, and
went to Jerusalem, where he took up his lodgings in
an hospital, to which was annexed a chapel of St.
George the Martyr ; and during the time he remained
there, continued to pray with many tears, that God
would direct him to a proper place where he might
attend to nothing else but true working out his own
salvation. Whilst he was praying one night to this
effect, having lifted up his eyes to heaven, he perceiv
ed a lis^ht in form of a cross coming towards him, and
hear.i a \oice that said to him: "If thou desirest to
save thy soul, follow this light." He immediately
ST. JOHN THE SILENT. 319
obeyed, anil following this heavenly light, he was con
ducted to the great laura of St. Sabas, were he found
one hundred and fifty solitaries, living in extreme
want of all temporal things, but rich in the treasures
>f divine grace.
The holy abbot having received this new comer
without knowing who he was, recommended him to
the procurator of the community, who employed him
for some time in various offices for the service of the
other religious, such as fetching them water, pre
paring their victuals, carrying stones for the build
ing which they had at that time in hand, dressing
and carrying the workmen their dinners, at the dis
tance of about a mile from his lodgings, entertain
ing such strangers as came, and, in a word, doing
all Cat any of the monks desired, with such humility,
readiness, and cheerfulness as made him both admired
and loved by them all. After this St. Sabas appoint
ed him a little cell, in which for the space of three
years, he lived in silence, taking no manner of nour
ishment during five days of the week, and only com
ing out to the church on Saturdays and Sundays,
where he was always the first and the last, and there
sung the psalms of the divine office with such respect
ful awe, modest gravity, and fer.yent piety, as edified
all who saw him ; and assisted also at the unbloody
sacrifice and sacrament of the altar, with such deep
compunction and devotion, that he could not refrain
320 ST. JOHN THE SILENT
from shedding floods of tears during the time of the
celebrating those divine mysteries.
After these three years of silence, St. Sabas ap
pointed him to the office of procurator of the laura,
to the great advantage of the whole community, God
giving his blessing to his servant, and assisting him
in all things. The time of exercising this office being
expired, and the holy abbot seeing him so accomplish
ed in all virtue, took him to Jerusalem, and desired
the patriarch St. Elias, the successor of Salustius, and
formerly disciple of St Euthymius, to impose his
hands upon him, and to ordain him priest. The ser
vant of God, on this occasion, desired he might be
first allowed to speak to the patriarch in private ; and
having obtained of him a promise of secrecy, told
him, that he had been a bishop, but that the multi
tude of his sins had determined him to quit his see,
and to fly into the desert in order to bewail his offences
and obtain the divine mercy ; and in the mean time,
as long as he was strong and robust to labor, all he
could to assist and comfort those good religious to
whom God had associated him. The patriarch was
astonished at the hearing of this, and calling for St.
Sabas, said to him : " This monk has discovered to
me in private some particulars, which will not allow
me to ordain him priest. Take him therefore back
with you, and let him live in silence, and suffer no one
k disturb him." St. Sabas being thus not only dis-
ST. JOHN THE SILENT. 321
appoin :ed, but also very much concerned, through the
apprehension lest some great evil might have been
discovered by the patriarch which had prevented him
from admitting his disciple to holy orders, betook him
self to his prayers, and ceased not to importune our
Lord to let him know whether John was indeed, as
he had thought, a vessel of sanctification, and worthy
of the priestly function or not. At length an angel,
after he had spent the whole night in prayer appear
ing to him, told him, that John was indeed a vessel
of election, but being already a bishop could not be
ordained priest. St. Sabas, who was often favored
with such visions, went immediately to St. John s cell,
and embracing him, said. "I find, father, that you
have hidden from me the grace you have received
from God, but he has been pleased to reveal it to me."
"You mortify me exceedingly, said John, by speaking
to me thus. I was in hopes this secret would not
have been known to any one, but now I perceive T
must quit this country." Sabas desired him to be at
rest, and made him a solemn promise that he would
keep his episcopal character a secret. Upon which he
was content to continue with him ; yet so as to remain
close in his cell, where he spent four years more in
perfect solitude and silence. When the insolence of
the monks drove St. Sabas away from the lawa, John
would remain there no longer, nor hold any commu
nication with the rebels, but retired to the desert of
322 ST. JOHN a HE SH-ENT.
Ruban, where he found a cavern in which he passed
nine years, conversing with God alone, and living
upon what wild herbs or roots he could find in the
wilderness.
Whilst he dwelt in this solitude one of the religious
came to visit him, and staid a short time with him ;
but being quickly wearied with so austere a kind of
life, and such close retirement, he proposed that they
should return together to the laura, in order to cele
brate the approaching feast of Easter with the brethren,
and not to starve in that barren desert. The Saint,
who could not think of returning to the laura as long
as Sabas was absent from thence, exhorted the brother
to a confidence in divine providence, which, as it had
heretofore fed six hundred thousand men for the space
of forty years in the wilderness, could with as much
ease abundantly provide for them both. But this ex
hortation having made no impression on the mind of
his companion, he presently took his leave of him and
departed. He was scarcely gone when an unknown
pei-son came to the cavern of the Saint, driving an ass
laden with all sorts of provisions, which he bestowed
upon the servant of God ; whose faith his divine Ma
jesty was pleased to reward in this wonderful manner :
whilst the other, instead of going back to the laura,
lost his way in the wilderness ; but after wandering
about for the space of three days, being now quite ex
hausted and famished, returned to the Saint, and see-
8T. JOHN THE SILENT. J23
Kg all the goo I things that God had sent him, ac
knowledged his own error, and asked pardon for it.
Whilst St. John dwelt in this desert, the Saracens
made an inroad upon the borders of the empire on the
side of Palestine, and committed great outrages. On
this occasion the Saint was pressed by the monks of
the laura to come and take shelter amongst them,
where he would be more remote from the danger of
the enemy s parties, and protected by the Roman sol
diers ; but he, who had found by experience how sweet
it was to converse alone with his God, chose rather to
remain where he was putting his whole trust in him,
who has given his angels charge over his servants to
guard them in all their ways ; and his divine goodness
was pleased to show his approbation of this entire con
fidence which his servant placed in him, by sending
him as our author learnt from the Saint s own mouth,
a great lion to be his visible guardian. At the first
sight of the beast, the man of God was struck with
some fear, but he quickly recovered himself, and found
that the creature, instead of meaning him harm, care
fully attended him by day and night, and suffered no
enemy to approach near his cavern.
At the expiration of the nine years, St. Sabas visited
him, and brought him back to the laura, where he
Hved for many years shut up in his cell, no one, except
the holy abbot, knowing all the while of his beino- a
bishop, till God was pleased it should be made known
S24 ST. JOHN THE SILENT.
to the whole community, by the means of Atherius,
an Asiatic prelate, who having made a pilgrimage of
devotion to Jerusalem, was directed from heaven to go
and visit our Saint in the laura of St. Sabas, and there
acquainted the religious with the treasure they pos
sessed, as well as with all the particulars of this former
course of life. When John was now seventy years of
age, it pleased God to take St. Sabas to himself. Our
Saint was sensibly touched with the loss of his holy
father, and the more because, being shut up in his
cell, he had not been present at his death. But be
hold St. Sabas appeared to him in a dream, desiring
that he would not be afflicted at his death ; for that
though they were now separated in body, they were
still united in spirit. John desired he would pray to
God for him, that he would be pleased to take him
also out of this miserable world ; but Sabas told him
that could not be as yet, because his longer stay in the
world was necessary to support the brethren under the
grievous conflicts and temptations to which they were
like to be exposed from the enemies of the faith.
Twenty years afterwards, when the saint was now
fourscore and ten years old, my author, who had been
received whilst a child by St. Sabas into the number
of his disciples, was directed by his pious mother to
St. John, in order to be guided in all things by his
counsels for the welfare of his soul. The Saint told
him, if he desired to save his soul, he would advise
ST. JOHN THE SILENT. 325
him to enter into the monastery of St. Euthymius.
But being then young and giddy, he neglected the
advice, and chose rather to go towards the Jordan, to
dwell in some of the religious houses in that part o\
the country. Having fixed on the latira called the
Reedfield, he was there taken violently ill, being un
accustomed to the yoke of religious discipline, and suf
fered at the same time a great anguish of mind, as
well as bodily pain, when behold the Saint appeared
to him in a dream, saying : " Behold, how thou art
now chastised, because thou wouldst not be advised
by me. But rise up, and go to Jericho, and there
thou shalt find in the hospital of the abbot Euthymius,
u very ancient religious man, follow him into the
monastery into which he shall conduct thee, and there
thou shalt find the salvation of thy soul." Upon this
he awoke, and found himself instantly cured; and
presently after getting up, receiving the blessed, sacra
ment, and taking some nourishment, he walked the
same day to Jericho^ From hence he went to the
monastery of St. Euthymius, and from that time al-
ways applied to our Saint for his spiritual direction.
This afforded him an opportunity of being an eye
witness of the wonders which God wrought by our
Saint. As when in his presence one, whose name
was George, brought his son who was grievously tor
mented by an evil spirit, and left him before the win
dow of his cell, (as no one ever came, within the door)
326 ST. JOHN THE SIlfiNT.
who was immediately delivered, upon the Saint s pray
ing for him, and anointing him with the oil of the
cross. But the miracles wrought by him for the cure
of souls were the most remarkable. The abbot Eusta-
tius applied one day to the Saint upon occasion of n
most violent and obstinate temptation of blasbphemous
thoughts, desiring him to pray for him. The servant
of God did so ; and then turning to him he said :
" God be praised, my son, you will never more be
troubled with the like thoughts," as was actually the
case : this our author learnt from Eustatius himself.
A lady, named Basilissa, who was deaconness of the
great church of Constantinople, having taken a journey
to the Holy Land, in the company of a kinsman, who
though otherwise virtuous and religious, was neverthe
less infected with the errors of Eutyches, hearing of
the wonderful graces bestowed upon our Saint, con
ceived a great desire to see and speak to him. But
being informed that no woman was allowed to come
within the enclosure of the laura, she sent to Theodore
his disciple, and begged of him to take her cousin
along with him to the Saint, in hopes that by his
blessing and prayers he might be converted and re
claimed from his errors. Theodore took the young
man with him, and knocked at the Saint s window,
according to custom, which when he had opened, they
both knelt down and craved his blessing. The man
of God told his disciple, that as for his part he gave
ST. JOHN THE SILENT. 327
him his benediction, but that he could not do as much
for his companion, because by schism and heresy ho
was an alien from the Catholic Church. The younor
man, astonished to hear him describe in this manner
tLe state of his soul, which he could not know but by
divine revelation, was by an evident miracle of divine
grace, perfectly converted upon the spot, and renounc
ing his heresy, after a competent preparation, was ad
mitted by the Saint to the holy communion. The
lady, overjoyed at his conversion, conceived a still
greater desire of seeing the Saint, and of treating with
him about the state of her soul, insomuch that she had
formed a design of putting on man s clothes, that so
she might have access to him ; but the Saint, know
ing by revelation her design, sent to her to lay aside
so useless a scheme, for that he would not be seen
by her in that manner ; but if she would stay where
she* was, she should see him in her sleep and then
might put what questions she pleased to him. The
following night, or shortly after, the Saint appeared to
her in a dream, and said to her : " God hath sent me
to you, you may now propose to me all that you want
to know." She then declared to him all that she had
in her mind, and received from him full satisfaction in
every particular, for which she returned great thanks
to God. All this, says our author, I can aver fo!
truth, having heard it from her own m>uth.
And here our author concludes his account of ou
828 8T. JOHN CLIMACUS.
Saint, who was, at the time of his writing, actually
living, doubting not, as he says, but that others would
deliver in a more ample manner to posterity the great
things that God had wrought by him, as well as his
many labors and sufferings in defence cf the faith of
the church. The Saint was at that time one hundred
and four years old, and though weak in body, yet per
fect in all the faculties of his soul, and by a cheerful
countenance ever showed forth the joy of his heart,
and the purity of his conscience. How long he lived
afterwards, or in what year he departed to our Lord,
we have not found ; but. his name stands recorded
among the Saints in the Roman Martyrology on the
thirteenth of May.
ST. JOHN CLIMACUS.
From Daniel, Monk of Kaithu. his Cotemporary, and
from, liis own Writings.
JOHN, surnamed Ctimacus, from his celebrated book
entitled Climax, or the scale or ladder of Christian and
religious perfection, was born, as it is thought, in some
part of Palestine, about the year 525. After an inno-
ftcnt education at home in the exercises of Christian
piety, joined with the study of the human sciences,
ST. JOHtf CLIMACUS. 829
when he had attained to the age of sixteen, he formed
the happy resolution of quitting the world and all ter
restrial things, in order to discover the treasure of
evangelical perfection in th<L field of religious disci
pline. The place he pitched upon for his retirement,
in which he might spend the remaining days of his
mortality, was mount Sinai, where the Lord heretofore
gave his law to Moses, and which from the time that
St. Antony and St. Hilarion began to propagate the
monastic institute, had always been peopled with holy
solitaries. Some of these lived as hermits in lonesome
cells, others in the vast monastery on the top of the
mountain, which was at this time one of the most cele
brated in the church of God ; but John chose a middle
way, declining the multitude of the convent, as expos
ing him to more distractions, and yet not venturing,
because he was young and unexperienced, to live quite
by himself as an anchoret, he put himself under the
discipline of a holy man, who dwelt in a cell on the
side of the mountain, whose name was Marty rius, and
lived with him for nineteen years, in the exercises of so
humble and faithful an obedience, as that he seemed,
from his very first entering upon this course of life, to
have left his own will behind him : and notwithstand
ing his great wit and learning, which is so apt to pufll
men up, to judge of nothing by his own choice, but to
regulate himself in all things, by a humble dependence
on the conduct and direction of his superior, as th<a
830 ST. JOHN CLIMACUS.
surest way to be conducted and directed by God him*
self.
After a trial of four years he made bis solemn pro
fession, by which he eternally dedicated himself to God
At which time a holy abbot, who was present, foretold
that this young religious man would be one day one
of the greatest lights of the Church of God. From
the time of his profession, John continued still to live
with the same simplicity and humility under the direc
tion of Mnrtyrius, making a continual progress both in
virtue and the knowledge of the holy Scriptures, on
which he meditated day and night. Marty rius some
times took him to visit the saints who dwelt in that
neighborhood. One day he brought him to a servant
of God whose \iame was Anastasius, who fixing bis
eyes upon him, told Martyrius that his disciple would
be one day abbot of Mount Sinai, which situation was
looked upon in those days as one of the highest pro
motions in the whole monastic order, and a dignity to
which none were raised but such as were most emi
nent in sanctity, no others being thought proper to bo
the fathers and superiors of so many saints as then in
habited that holy mountain. At another time, when
they went together to visit John, surnamed the Saba-
ite, because he had been a disciple of St. Sabas, this
holy man, according to the custom of the solitaries,
washed the feet cf his guests, beginning with the dis
ciple, and on being asked the reason, he said he did
ST. JOHN CLIMACUS. 831
Dot know who that young- man was, but he believed
he saw in him an abbot of mount Sinai.
At the end of nineteen years our Lord took Marty
rius to himself, and then our Saint, by the counsel
of George the Arsilaite, an eminent servant of God,
undertook an anchoretical life in a cell bv himself, at
the foot of the mountain, at the distance of five miles
from the church, to which nevertheless he repaired on
all Saturdays and Sundays to join the rest of the reli
gious in the divine office, to assist at the sacred mys
teries, and receive the blessed sacrament. In this her
mitage he continued forty years, practising in the high
est degree of perfection the three principal virtues of
a solitary life, which he has so much recommended in
his writings, viz. a total disengagement of his thoughts
and heart from temporal things, an incessant watch
fulness and continual prayer, which consisted, as we
learn from his own doctrine (Grad. 27.) in having
God always for his object, and his divine will for his
rule in all his exercises, words, thoughts, and in every
motion and step that he took, and in doing nothing
but in the presence of God, with an internal fervor of
spirit. This gift of continual prayer was accompanied
by the gift of tears, which he frequently poured forth
in private before our Lord, bewailing his sins with the
deepest compunction of heart. Nor did his frequent
application to the reading of the Scriptures and
writings of the Saints, interrupt his prayers or
832 ST. JOHN CLIMACUS.
but rather served as a fuel to that inward fire of di
vine love, which produced both the one and the other
Nor was the knowledge he here acquired, nor the par
ticular lights which the spirit of God imparted to him
for the instruction and conduct of others, in the least
prejudicial to his humility, or make him think he was
left upon earth for any thing else, but to bewail his
sins in solitude, and do penance for them.
Many persons, as well religious as seculars, came
from time to time to consult him about the concerns
of their souls, to whom, with great candor and sim
plicity, he communicated the lights which God gave
him. A solitary, whose name was Moses, not con
tent with only coming to consult him, prevailed on
him by the intercession of the ancients of mount
Sinai, to receive him in quality of his disciple. This
Moses being sent one day by the Saint to fetch earth
from a place at some distance for the use of their lit
tle garden, the fatigue of the work and the heat of
the sun, obliged him, towards noonday, to go and rest
himself on the side of a bank, under the shadow of a
rock, or great stone, that hung over his head. Here
laying himself down he fell fast asleep. In the mean
time the Saint, who had been praying in his cell, hap
pened also to fall into a slumber, in which there ap
peared to him a venerable person, that said : " Dost
thou sleep, John, without any concern ? get up, for
Moses is upon the brink of danger." Having imrne-
ST. JOHN CLIMACUS. 333
diately awoke upon this admonition, he betook hint
self to his prayers, to beg deliverance for his disciple.
But whilst he was praying for him, the divine good
ness was pleased that Moses also should hear, as he
thought, in his sleep, the voice of his master calling
upon him to get up with all speed ; upon which he
presently started up in a fright, and ran away from
the bank, and within less than a minute the great
stone under which he had been sleeping fell down, so
that had he remained there but one minute longer,
he must have been inevitably crushed to death.
The common enemy of the good of souls behold
ing with an envious eye the great advantage that
many reaped from the instructions and spiritual dis
courses which the Saint made to those who visited
him, stirred up the jealousy of certain persons who
pretended to be scandalized at his speaking too much,
saying that he was a vain babbler, who only loved to
hear himself talk. The Saint, who sought not to pro
mote his own fame, but the glory of God ; who l^ad
no vain opinion of his own talents, but had only yield
ed to speak through the importunity of his brethren,
and from an impulse of fraternal charity, far from
justifying or excusing himself, or even being offended
at what they said of him (believing they had only
meant to give him a charitable admonition and frater
nal correction), was resolved to comply therewith, and
of consequence condemned himself to an inviolable
884 ST. JOHN CLIMACU8.
silence, which he kept for a whole year, till at length
/hose very men, overcome with his wonderful humili
ty and modesty, and sensible of the detriment they
had done the public, by depriving them of his whole
some instructions and directions, joined with all the
rest of the brethren in begging of the man of God to
resume his former practice.
The Saint had now led the life of an anchoret foi
the space of forty years in his cell, when all the relig
ious of mount Sinai, with one accord, chose him for
their abbot; and notwithstanding all his resistance,
obliged him to quit his hermitage to come and be
their director and general superior. Thus was this
<jreat light set in the candlestick, from thence to cast
his bright rays on every, side, to enlighten the whole
world. The lustre of his sanctity reached even as far
as Rome, from whence our most holy Pontiff, St.
Gregory the Great, wrote to him, testifying the great
esteem he had of his eminent virtue. It was about
this time that John, the abbot of Raithu, a famous
monastery on the confines of Egypt, obtained permis
sion of our Saint to commit to writing the great lights
he had received from God for directing and conduct
ing souls to the very top of the mountain of religious
perfection. This he has happily executed in his ex
cellent book, entitled Climax, or the Ladder of thirty
steps or degrees of Christian virtues, by which th
toul ascends to the heavenly paradise. It
ST. JOHN CLIMACU8. 335
that the Saint, before the composing of this work, had
made a visit to a famous monastery in Egypt, sup
posed to have been of the order or congregation of
St. Pachomius, of which he makes frequent mention,
bestowing the highest encomiums as well on the holy
abbot, as on several of the monks by name. Here he
continued a considerable time, and, with the leave of
the superior, went also to see the monastery, or rather
prison of the penitents, which was distant about a
mile off from the abbey, and remained therein thirty
days. The wonders of divine grace, which he there
discovered in the whole demeanor of these happy
penitents, are inserted at large in his fifth step of his
Ladder, viz. penitence : of which, as it may serve as
a stimulus to penitent sinners, we vshall here give HII
abstract.
" Being come," says he, " into this monastery of the
penitents, I beheld things which the eye of the sloth
ful has never seen, the ear of the negligent has never
heard, and which have never entered into the heart of
the sluggard, things and words capable of doing vio
lence, if I may use the expression, to the Almighty.
I saw some of these penitents standing whole nights
upright, without allowing themselves any sleep or rest
whatsoever ; others, in a pitiful manner, looking up
towards heaven, and calling for help from thence with
groans, sighs, and prayers ; others, who whilst at
prayer, had their hands bound behind them like crim-
336 ST. JOHN CLIMACUB.
inals, bowing down their pale countenances towards
the ground, declaring aloud that they were unworthy
to lift up their eyes to heaven, and that they durst not
presume to speak to God, &c. I saw some, (says he,)
sitting on the floor covered witli hair-cloth and ashes,
hiding their faces between their knees, and striking
their foreheads against the earth ; others beating
their breasts with inexpressible contrition of heart,
some of whom watered the ground about them with
their tears, others grievously lamenting that they
could not weep, several mourning with a loud cry
over their own souls, as we mourn over the de<id
corpse of a dear friend, others ready to roar out for
grief, eagerly struggling to stifle the noise of their
complaint^, till being no longer able to repress them,
they were forced to let them break forth with greater
violence ; others appeared so astonished, that one
would have supposed them to be statues of brass, so
insensible of all things had the excess of their sorrow
rendered them. Their heart was plunged in an abyss
of humility, and their scorching grief had dried up all
their tears, &c. There might you have seen the words
of David fulfilled in these holy penitents, I am become
miserable, and am bowed down even to the end : 1
walked sorrowful all the day long. I am afflicted
find humbled exceedingly. And again, I am smitten
us grass and my heart is withered, because I forgot to
eat my bread. For I did eat ashes like bread, and
ST. JOHN CLIMACUS. 387
mingled my drink with iveeping. No other words
could be beard amongst them, but such as these :
woe, woe to me, a miserable sinner ; tis with justice,
O Lord, tis with justice ; spare us, O Lord, spare us ;
have mercy on us. Some of them afflicted themselves
by standing parching in the most violent heat of the
sun ; others, on the contrary, exposed themselves to
suffer no less from extremity of the cold.- Some, in
the violence of their thirst, taking a small quantity of
water, contented themselves with only tasting of it.
whilst others, after eating a morsel of bread, cast the
rest away, saying : they were not worthy to eat the
food of men, who had acted more like irrational crea
tures : there was no room for laughter ; none for idle
talk ; none for resentment, anger or contradiction ;
none for mirth, the care of the body, good cheer, or
the pleasures of eating or drinking; none for the
least spark of vain-glory. No earthly cares distracted
them, nor did they know what it was to judge or con
demn any man but themselves. Their whole employ
ment, day and night, was to cry to our Lord, and no
voice was heard amongst them but that of prayer.
Some there were who, beating their breasts with alS
their might, as if they were knocking for admittance
at the gate of heaven, said to the Lord : O open to us
through thy mercy, the gate which we have shut
ngainst ourselves by our sins. Another, shoio us only
<% face, Lord, and we shall be saved. Anothei
888 ST. JOHN CLIMACU8.
said, show thyself, Lord, to thy poor supplicant^
tha: sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, &c
Having always the hour of death before their eyes,
they would say, O what shall our end be? -What
sentence shall then be pronounced upon us ? Will
God revoke the judgment we have deserved ? Has
our prayer been able to force its way to the presence
of the Lord ? Has it been regarded, coming from
such unclean hearts and lips as ours ? Has some
part at legist of our sins been blotted out ? for as they
are very great, they stand in need of many peniten
tial labors and sorrows to be wholly effaced. Who
can tell whether even our good angels are near us, to
present onr prayers, or whether the stench of our sins
has not driven them away ? &c. To these interroga
tions some replied : who knows, brethren, as the Nin-
evites said heretofore, but that our Lord may grant u*
pardon, and deliver us from that dreadful penance of
the world to come ? Let us neglect nothing that de
pends on us ; let us continue to knock at the door of
his mercy, even till the end of our lives : perhaps he
will yield to our importunity and perseverance ; tor
he is good and merciful. Let us run, brethren, let us
run, for we have need to run, and to run with all our
speed, that we may recover what we have lost. Lei
us run, and not spare this filthy flesh ; let us make it
suffer in time, because it has exposed us to the danger
of suffering for eternity. Thus said these holy crimi
ST. JOHN CLIMACUS. 339
mils, and they were as good as their words. Their
knees were hardened by incessant kneeling; their
eyes appeared sunk into their sockets ; the hair of
their eye-lids was fallen off by their continual weep
ing ; their cheeks were rivelled, and, as it were,
parched with the scalding brine of their tears ; their
breasts bruised with blows," &c.
The Saint having added a great deal more, with re
gard to the sentiments and dispositions of these holy
penitents, and all that he saw and heard during his
stay amongst them, concludes his narration in the fol
lowing manner: "After I had remained thirty days
in this prison, I returned to the great monastery, the
holy abbot, seeing me quite altered, like a man utterly
astonished, and comprehending the cause of my amaze
ment, said: Well, how fares it, father John \ Have
you seen the labors and conflicts of our penitents?
Yes replied I ; father, I have both seen and admired
them, and cannot but esteem them more happy who
mourn in this manner, after falling into sin, than those
who have not fallen, and therefore bewail not them
selves ; because it seems to me that their fall has
been to them an occasion of a most happy and secure
resurrection."
Our Saint, after publishing this boo-k, did not con
tinue long in his station of abbot, but exchanged it for
beloved solitude, returning into the desert to prepare
himself for eternity. He departed to our Lord, in an
840 ST. JOHN THE ALMONER.
advanced age, about the year 005, and his name ia en-
registered amongst the Saints, in the Roman Martyr-
ology on the thirtieth of March.
ST. JOHN THE ALMOffEB.
From his Life -written by Leontius, his Cotemporary,
Bishop of Neapolis, in Cyprus
THIS Saint, whose life lias been commonly published
with those of the fathers of the desert, though it does
not appear that he ever lived in the desert, was born
at Cyprus, about the year 552, his father, Epiphanius,
being at that time governor of the island. He was
brought up from his childhood in Christian piety, and
amongst other virtues, he was always in a particular
manner addicted to alms-deeds, and to the works of
merc^ and charity to the poor ; from whence he has
ever since been distinguished by the surname of the
Almoner, or Alms-giver. He was confirmed in the
luve and practice of this heavenly virtue, by a vision
he had in his youth, which himself afterwards related
in the following manner : " When I lived in the island
of Cyprus, being then no more than fifteen years old t
I saw one night in a dream a young virgin crowned
Kith olive, of an incomparable beauty, and more
ST. JOHN THE ALMONER. 341
bright than the sun, who, standing by my bed, struck
me on the side, and awaked me. Being at length
awake, I still perceived her standing in the same spot,
and supposed her to be a woman ; wherefore, making
the sign of the cross, I asked who she was, and how
she could have the boldness to come to my bed side
whilst I was asleep ? She answered, with a sweet and
smiling countenance ; I am the eldest daughter of the
great celestial King : take me for thy friend, and 1
will conduct thee into his presence ; for no one has so
much power and interest with him as I have, since it
was I that even brought him down from heaven to
earth, and made him become man, in order to save
man. Having said these words, she instantly disap
peared. As soon as I recovered from my surprise, I
began to think that this heavenly beauty represented
ilms-deeds, and mercy and compassion for the afflicted ;
oecause it was indeed the mercy, compassion, and
goodness of God towards mankind, that made him
come down from heaven, to clothe himself with our
humanity. Having arisen, I immediately dressed my
self and without awaking any of the family, went at
the first dawning of the day to the church. In my
way I met a poor man trembling with cold, and in
order to make, as it were, an experiment of the truth
of the vision, I pulled off my cloak and gave it him.
Presently after, before I had reached the church door,
ft stranger, clothed in white, came up, and put a purse
S42 ST. JOHN THE ALMONER.
into my hands, containing a hundred pieces of mcney t
saying: Take this, my brother, and distribute it as
you think fit. The joy, together with the surprise in
which I then found myself, induced me to receive the
purse without demur; but when, upon reflection, I
turned back to follow the person, and to return him
his money, as having no want or occasion for it, he
vanished out of my sight. From that day I often
gave alms to my brethren the poor, saying within my
self: now I shall see whether Jesus Christ, according
to his promise, will return me a hundred fold ; bv
which I became guilty of a great sin in tempting God,
and afterwards conceived a great remorse of conscience
for it, yet I still received from him, at sundry times,
and in divers manners, all the satisfaction I could de
sire." So far the Saint, speaking of his younger days.
St. John had given the most brilliant examples of
all virtues, more especially of an unbounded charity
in a secular life, till about the fifty-fourth year of his
age, when the great reputation of his sanctity, which
now spread itself far and near, recommended him so
strongly to the church of Alexandria, that upon the
death of Theodore its patriarch, he was chosen his
successor ; the emperor Heraclius, in the mean time,
using his utmost influence to overcome the repugnance
the Saint had to this promotion, of which he thought
himself infinitely unworthy. As soon as he arrived
*t Alexandria, he sent for the archdeacon an.d officers
ST. JOHN THE ALMONER. 34$
of the diurch, and said to them ; " It would be unjust,
0, ray brethren, if we should begin Avith any other
care or concern, before that which we owe to Jesus
Christ; wherefore be pleased to go through the city,
and let nre have an exact list of all my masters." As
they seemed not to understand his meaning, he ex
plained himself, saying, that he considered the poor
not only as his lords and masters, but his coadjutors
also, who, by their prayers, were to help him to hea
ven. The list of the poor which they brought in was
found to amount, in that great and populous city, to
upwards of seven thousand five hundred ; yet not
withstanding their being so numerous, the Saint gave
orders that a daily allowance of necessaries should be
given to every one of them out of his revenue.
After his consecration, he immediately applied him
self, with all diligence and fervor, to execute every
branch of his pastoral charge with, the utmost perfec
tion ; and, as a true father of his people, to procure
them whatever, was either for their spiritual or corpo
ral welfaie. He began, by putting an effectual stop
to the frauds and injustices committed in trade, par-
ik-ularly by false weights and measures, a practice
which, said he, God, as we learn from his divine word,
utterly abhors; and, as he was informed, that they
who had the administration of the temporalities of
his church, were ofton biassed by presents which were
made them so as to be partial in the discharge of their
544 BT. JOHN THE ALMONER.
office, he sent for them, and after appointing them a
larger salary, strictly forbid them to receive any pres
ents from any person whatsoever ; because said he, a
fire shall consume the houses of those that take bribes.
Being also informed that many who labored under in
juries and oppressions, were intimidated by his secre
taries, and other officers, from laying their complaints
before him ; as a remedy to so great an evil, he or
dered a chair to be placed before the great church,
with a bench on each side, where he attended for
several hours, on every Wednesday and Saturday, to
give audience, and redress the grievances of all that
pleased to come for that purpose, and would charge
the proper officer to see that what he ordered should
be presently executed. Upon which occasion he used
to say : " If we poor mortals are allowed at every
hour to enter the house of God, in order to address
our supplications to him, and lay all our wants before
him, though his Majesty be incomprehensible, and in
finitely elevated above all created beings, if we," con
tinues he, " are so anxious that he would hear our
prayers, and make haste to help us, how ready ought
we to be to hear the petitions, and grant the just de
mands of our fellow-servants, remembering that say
ing of our Lord Jesus, with what measure you have
measured, it shall be measured to you again" Matt
vii. 2.
Oil these occasions, it was the custom of our Sa:nt,
ST. JOHN THE ALMONER. 345
tfho hated idleness, either to employ his time in read
ing the holy Scriptures, whilst he was waiting in or
der to give audience to such as should apply to him,
or in spiritual conferences with some servants of God :
but one day having remained there till noon, without
being applied to by any one, he withdrew, with tears
in his eyes, saying : that none of his people had favor
ed him that day, or afforded him any opportunity of
offering something to Jesus Christ, in order to cancel
his own innumerable sins. Sophronius, a great ser
vant of God, who sat by him, replied, that he ought
rather rejoice to find that God had made him his in
strument in establishing so good a harmony and per
feet a peace amongst the sheep committed to his
charge, that there was not even one to be found
amongst them that had any difference or misunder
standing with his neighbor ; for this indeed, said he,
is converting men into angels.
This Sophronius, with John his companion, men
equally eminent both for their wisdom and their sanc
tity, were sent by divine providence to the assistance
of our Saint. He made use of them, upon all occa
sions, as his counsellors and directors, and obeyed
them with as much submission as if they had been his
fathers ; and his esteem, as well as his love for them
were the more increased by the success that attended
the exertion of their eminent talents in bringing back
fo God inn r. onerable souU who had been unhappily
346 ST. JOHN THE ALMONER.
seduced by the Eutychian heresy, which th^n great] j
prevailed all over Egypt, even amongst many of th<s
religious. By means of these holy men, the Saint
had the comfort of beholding in his days, not only-
many private houses and families, but also several
churches and monasteries, delivered out of the jaws
of the internal wolf, and again restored to the true
fold of Christ, the Catholic Church. As to our Saint,
he incessantly warned his flock to avoid all communion
in spirituals with any who were separated by heresy
from the communion of the church, and not so much
as to enter into their churches or meeting houses,
much less to join with them in prayer, even though
any one should be so unhappily circumstanced as to
be confined during his whole life to a place where he
could never see a catholic priest, or receive any of
the holy sacraments ; for, said he, as the laws of God
and man forbid any one, who has a wife living, to
coha.bit with another woman, how distant or for how
long a time soever his lawful wife may be separated
from him, so he who has been espoused to Christ in
the Catholic Church, cannot without the crime of
spiritual adultery, upon any pretext whatsoever, en
gage himself in the communion of heretics.
Exclusive of the assistance that our Saint received
in tho discharge of his pastoral office from those two
great men, he was also desirous of participating in the
prayers and merits of the holy solitaries, fur whosi
ST. JOHN THE ALMONER. 347
mnnner of life, though he had never been a solitary
himself, he conceived the utmost esteem. To this end,
having assembled together a number of saint-like an-
cLorets out of the deserts, he distributed them into
two bands, and built cells for them in two chapels
erected at his own charges ; the one dedicated to the
blessed Virgin, the other to St. John ; furnishing them
with all necessaries out of his own farms, in order, as
ho told them, that whilst he, under God, took upon
himself the care of providing for their corporal suste
nance, they, on their part, should provide for the spir
itual necessities of his soul, especially by offering up
to God in his behalf their evening and midnight de
votions. These foundations of our Saint were of great
edification to the faithful of Alexandria, many of
whom, in different parts of the city, were excited by
the example of these holy men, to pass whole nights
in singing the praises of God.
It would be an endless task to relate the particulars
of all the great things done by our Saint during the
ten years of his episcopal administration, as well fo.
the promoting of the glory of God, as for the sanctifi-
cation and salvation of the souls committed to hia
lharge, together with the many wonderful examples
he gave of humility, meekness, patience, charity
for all, even his enemies, and the rest of the evaii-
oplical virtues; but as the most distinctive traits in
his charac* M- were the most tender compassion for the
348 ST. JOHN THE ALMONER.
poor and distressed, and an unbounded liberality in
point of alms-deeds, we cannot refrain from adducing
the following extraordinary instances. In his time
Chosroes, king of Persia, having laid waste Syria, and
other parts of the eastern empire, and carried off a
great number of Christians intq captivity and slavery
such as could escape his hands made the best of their
way to Alexandria, and presented themselves in great
multitudes to the man of God, as the known refuge of
all the distressed. The Saint received them all with
open arms, and as many of them were sick and wound
ed, he placed in hospitals or other lodgings, where
they were all entertained at his charges, and as long
as they themselves chose to remain, the most tender
care was taken of them ; and as to the rest, who were
innumerable, he ordered his almoners to give a piece
of silver to every man that applied to them for charity,
and two to every woman or girl, in consideration of
the weakness of their sex. His almoners perceiving
amongst the great numbers of those that applied for
relief, some to be richly clad, made a scruple of giving
them any money, and came to consult the Saint on
the subject ; but he being highly displeased at their not
having complied to the letter, with those words of our
Lore : Luke vi. 30. Give to every one that askcih
tkce, desired they would not in future b3 so inquisitive
into the circumstances of those who came to crave
alnis, but rather distribute that which belonged to
ST. JOHN THE ALMONER. 349
God with a bountiful hand, according to the will and
commandment of Christ. " But if your little faith"
said he, " makes you apprehend lest my income should
not be sufficient to furnish wherewith to relieve such
great numbers, I will by no means become a partaker
in your unbelief ; for since it has pleased God to
make me, though most unworthy, the dispenser of his
goods, if all the men in the world were to come to
Alexandria to crave alms I would relieve them, under
an entire confidence that they would never be able
to exhaust his immense stores, nor those of the
church."
Whilst this great multitude of strangers remained
at Alexandria, one of them, in order to put the Saint s
extreme charity and compassion for the distressed to a
trial, presented himself in a ragged garment one day
when the man of God was going to the hospital to visit
the sick, which he constantly did twice or thrice in a,
week, and begged he would have pity on a poor cap
tive, and order him some relief. The Saint immedi
ately ordered his almoner to give him six pieces of
stiver. No sooner had he received this alms but he
departed, and having changed his dress, and met the
Saint again in another street, he cast himself at his
feet, saying, he was a poor man in the utmost distress,
and begged his assistance. The holy prelate then told
his almoner to give him six pieces of gold, although
this officer had just whispered in his ear, and told him
so
HftO ST. JOHN THE ALMONER.
it was the very same person whom he had relieved a
little before. Again he came a third time, still im
ploring the charity of the man of God, and when the
almoner signified that it was the same identical person,
the Saint answered, give him twelve pieces of gold ;
for possibly, said he, this may be Jesus Christ, my
Saviour, who is come on purpose to try me ; alluding,
in all probability, to what had happened not long be
fore to St. Gregory the Great.
Tn the mean time the Persians continuing their de
vastations in the eastern provinces, drove still greater
numbers of people to Alexandria, to shelter themselves
there under the charitable wings of our Saint, who not
content with relieving all that came, sent also consider
able alms to Modestus, the patriarch of Jerusalem, at
this tame reduced to the greatest extremity with all
his people by the Persians, who had taken that city
and burnt the churches. With this alms he sent also
a letter to the patriarch, apologizing for not sending
something more worthy of the temple of God, and de
claring how glad he should be, if circumstances would
permit him to come himself in person, and labor with
bis own hands in rebuilding the holy church of the
bepulchr-e and resurrection of our Lord, requesting also
that he would excuse his want of the means, and ob
tain for him, by his prayers, that his name might be
written in the book of life.
At this time the innumerable mu itude of personi
ST. JOHN THE ALMONER. 851
that cam a from all parts to Alexandria, made all sorts
of provisions exceedingly dear, more especially as the
harvest had failed in Egypt, the Nile not having over
flowed that year as usual. The Saint, who could not
endure to see distress laid out all the money he had
01 could any way procure, either by begging or bor
rowing of good people, till at length, all being spent,
no one could be found that would lend him any more,
every body apprehending, lest by the continuance of
the famine, they should come themselves to want ;
when behold, amidst these extremities, as if God had
a mind to try the fidelity of his servants, a rich citi
zen, who was desirous of being promoted to holy or
ders, but was prevented by the canons of the Church,
on account of his having been twice married, made
him an offer of two hundred thousand bushels of wheat
which he had stored up, together with a very large
sum of money to be disposed of in charities, upon con
dition he would dispense with the irregularity he had
incurred by his bigamy, and ordain him deacon. The
Saint told him, that although the offering which he
proposed could never come at a time in which it was
more wanted, he nevertheless could not accept it, a.s
it was defective and tainted by the condition to which
it was annexed, because the law of God required that
the sacrifice offered to him should be clean and with
out blemish : and as to the. present necessities of hia
brethren, the poor, as well as those of the Church, ha
852 ST. JOHN THE ALMONER.
was confident that the same divine goodness which
had hitherto taken care of them, would still continue
to feed and support them, provided, said he, we invio
lably observe what he commands us. No sooner had
he returned this answer, and dismissed the ambitious
aspirer to a spiritual promotion, but his people brought
him the gladsome tidings that the two great ships be
longing to the Church, which he had sent to Sicily,
were just arrived in the port laden with corn ; upon
which the man of God prostrated himself on the
ground, and returned hearty thanks to our Lord, who
had not only preserved him from sin under that trial,
but had immediately sent him such a seasonable and
abundant provision.
It was wonderful to relate the many other occasions
wherein it pleased God to furnish his servant with ex
traordinary supplies in order to support his boundless
charities, so that, generally .speaking, the more he gave
away, the more he received from the divine bounty
through the hands of charitable Christians, and some
times not without an evident miracle. A citizen, who
after living in opulent circumstances had been sud
denly reduced to extreme poverty, applied to the Saint
in the church for an alms ; he recollecting him to have
been not long before a wealthy man, had great com
passion on him, and whispered to his almoner to give
him fifteen pounds of gold ; which when the almoner
was going to exe *ute, he was persuaded by the secr>
ST. JOHN THE ALMONER. 3,*>3
lary and the steward to give him onl} five pounds.
The Saint returning home from the chirch, was met.
by a rich widow, who put a promissory note in his
hands, in which she obliged herself to give him five
hundred pieces of gold for the poor. Having received
the note, and knowing in spirit that it was sent to re
compense the charity given to the abovementioned
citizen, he required and found out that his officers had
only given him five pounds instead of fifteen, where
upon he told them they would be answerable to God
for the other thousand pieces of gold which the good
lady that had given the note for the five hundred had
designed for the poor, if they had not abridged her
charity by not complying with his. In order to con
vince them thereof, having sent for the lady, he asked
her in their presence, if the sum mentioned in the
note was what she originally intended to give to Jesus
Christ, or whether she had proposed to give him a
larger sum? She suspecting by this question that
what had passed had been revealed from heaven, she
was struck with fear and astonishment, and assured
him in the most solemn manner, that she had actually
written fifteen hundred pieces of gold, but that look
ing at the note just before she had presented it to him
at church, she found to her great astonishment, the
fifteen hundred changed into five hundred, but knew
not by what means nor by whom, as the paper had
never been in any other person s hands but her own,
854 ST. JOHN THE ALMONER.
and therefore concluded it t<> be the will of God thai
she should give no more than five hundred.
A captain of a ship, a stranger, having suffered
great losses at sea, besought our Saint, with many
tears, that he would have the same compassion for him
as he had on all others in distress ; he ordered his al
moner to give him the weight of five pounds in gold ;
which sum enabled him to repair his vessel and put to
sea again. But scarcely had he sailed out of port,
when a storm arose which obliged him to fling all his
goods overboard, and it was with the utmost difficulty
he saved his ship. Again he applied to the Saint,
begging he would have compassion on him for the
sake of him who had shown pity to the whole world.
The holy prelate having told him, that this misfortune
had befallen him in consequence of his having min
gled the charity money which he received of the church
with what remained of his own former illgotten wealth,
and that therefore he had lost both, gave him now the
weight of ten pounds in gold, bidding him take care
not to mix it with any other money. Thus being en
abled to repair and load his vessel with a fresh cargo,
he tried his fortune a second time, but with worse suc
cess than ever, for being cast away upon the coast he
lost both ship and cargo, and hardly escaped with hi*
life. This latter misfortune drove him into so violent
a fit of despair, that he was almost tempted to make
away with himso f, if the holy patriarch, who load
ST. JOHN THE ALMONER, 355
earnt by revelation all that had happened, had not
sent for him to comfort him, with the assurance that
.he like misfortune should never again befall him, and
,hat this was permitted in consequence of his having
obtained by unjust means possession of his ship,
Then in order to set him up in the world again, the
Saint appointed him captain of the large vessel be
longing to the church of Alexandria and sent him out
laden with twenty thousand bushels of wheat. What
follows is an abstract of the account given by the cap
tain himself, with the most solemn asseveration of its
veracity: "We sailed," said he "during the space
of twenty days and twenty nights with so violent a
wind that not being able, either by the stars or the
sight of any land, to know in what part of the world
we were, we should have given ourselves up for lost,
had not the pilot assured us that he saw the holy pa
triarch by his side at the helm, bidding him not to
fear, for that we were in the right road. On the
twentieth day we came within sight of England,
where, when we put to land, we found a great famine.
Upon our making it known that we were laden with
corn, the principal magistrate of the place told us God
had sent us to assist them in their extremity; and
having given us our choice either to receive money or
the weight of our corn in British tin, we chose one
half in coin, the other in tin. But behold a stil)
gre vter wonder wrought by our Lord, as a recompense
356 ST. JOHN THE ALMONER.
for the charity of our Saint : as soon as the ship re
turned safe back to the coast of Egypt, some of the
British tin being sold by the captain to a dealer in
pewter, who on melting it down, found it pure silver ;
upon which, when he went to reproach the captain, as
if he had suspected his honesty, and meant by a strat
agem to put it to a trial, the whole was carefully ex
amined, and all found to be excellent silver.
But as our Saint had, on so many occasions, received
these miraculous supplies, in order to enable him to
continue his extraordinary charities, so was he also
sometimes tried, like Job, with great losses, which
were shortly after repaid to him with interest. Nice-
tas, the governor, urged on by some evil counsellors,
under the pretence of the pressing necessities of the
state, on account of relieving of the Persian war, de
manded and carried off, in the name of the emperor,
nil the money that had been brought to our Saint for
charitable uses, leaving him master of only one hun
dred crowns ; but on the same day, a stranger, from
the coast of Barbary, brought him large sums of mo
ney, sent by charitable Christians ; and the governor
himself, before it was night, (upon reading a paper
sent on this occasion by the man of God, in which he
iiad written theso words, " Our Lord, who has said, /
irill not leave tkee, neither will I forsake tlnee, cannot
tell a Ik-, because, he is the truth ; and therefore a
wretched man, who must shortly b the food of worrna,
ST. JOHN! THE ALMONER. 357
tannot tie up the hands of God, who furnishes all his
creatures with both food and life,") returned all the
money he had taken from him, adding thereto three
hundred crowns of his own, and offering to undergo
what penance the patriarch should oe* pleased to im
pose on him for his crime.
At another time the Saint sustained a very great
loss, when all the vessels belonging to the church of
Alexandria, to the number of thirteen, meeting with
a violent storm in the Adriatic sea, were constrained
to fling their whole freight, consisting of corn and
other goods, overboard. On this occasion the holy
patriarch said with Job, i. the Lord gave and the Lord
hath taken, away, as it hath pleased the Lord, so it is
done, blessed be the name of the Lord : and told his
friends who came to condole with him on his misfor
tune, that with respect to himself he rather consider
ed it more to his advantage than his loss, imputing it
entirely to his having taken too much complacency in
his alms, without sufficiently guarding against the
danger of being infected by vainglory ; that he was
very sensible of what service afflictions and humilia
tions are to purify the soul from the dross of pride and
vanity, being convinced as well as the psalmist, It is
good for me that thou humbled me, that I may learn
thy justifications, Ps. 118 ; that however severely,
as to his own part, he deserved to be punished on ao
coun fc . of his having given occasion, by his vanity, U
858 ST. JOHN THE ALMONER.
so many innocent persons being thus reduced, yet as
God was still the same as he was in the days of Job,
he trusted, that notwithstanding his own unworthiness,
he would help them out of their distress. This confi
dence of ourS*int was amply recompensed, for no\
long after our Lord restored him by one means or
other, twice as much as he had lost, the whole of
which he employed in comforting and assisting more
abundantly than ever the poor and distressed.
The Saint being informed that one of his servants
had labored under a pressing necessity, gave him pri
vately with his own hand the weight of two pounds
in gold ; and when the man, confounded at the excess
of his goodness towards him, told him he did not
know he should be able to look him any more in the
face : " Brother," replied the Saint, " I have not yet
shed my blood for you, as Christ our common Master
and God has done for us all, and has commanded us
to do for our brethren."
One of the citizens being closely pressed to pay a
debt, which he had not at that time the means to dis
charge, addressed himself to a rich nobleman, begging
he would lend him fifty pounds of gold upon proper
security. He assured him he would, but delayed to
put his promise in execution, whilst the other, still
closely watched by his creditor, apprehending he
would proceed to extremeties, had recourse to tho
holy patriarch whose heart and hand were ever opec
ST. JOHN THE ALMONER. 859
Ic relieve the necessities of all. No sooner had he
told him his case, but the Saint replied : " My son, if
your necessity required it, I would even give you the
clothes off my back," and without further hesitation
he lent him the whole sum. The following night the
nobleman saw in a dream a person standing upon an
altar, to whom many others approached to make their
offerings, and for every offering they laid upon the
altar they received a hundred fold in return. Ho
seemed also to observe the holy patriarch come in im
mediately after him, and that there lay a sum of money
upon a bench before him, which one of the bystanders
bid him take up and offer upon the altar, that he
might receive a hundred fold ; but as he hesitated and
was dilatory in doing as he was desired, the patriarch,
who stood behind him, stept forward, took up the of
fering, and putting it upon the altar, presently after
wards received a hundred fold. The next morning
the nobleman having sent for the man, offered to let
him have the money he wanted ; but he replied, that
his lordship s delays to fulfil his promise had obliged
him to have recourse to the holy patriarch, by whom
he was immediately relieved ; upon which the other
related the vision he had seen, and severely condemn
ed himself for having lost, by his want cf diligence in
doing good, that great reward wherewith God recom
penses those works which are done for his sake
Amongst the many others who, on seeing the bound-
360 ST. JOHN THE ALMONER.
less charities of the Saint, brought their money to him
to be disposed of at his discretion for the relief of the
poor, a man who had an only son aged fifteen years,
came one day and presented him the weight of seven
pounds and a half of gold, assuring him it was all he
had, and only besought him to pray for his son, whom,
he had sent in a ship k> the coast of Africa, that God
would protect him and conduct him back in safety
with his vessel to the haven. The Saint did not only
pray himself, but also earnestly recommended the wel
fare of the youth and the vessel to the prayers of h : js
clergy, as the man had desired ; when behold, before
the expiration of thirty days, the boy being taken ill
died, and shortly after the ship, in which was also the
uncle of the youth, on returning home, was cast away
near the port of Alexandria, and nothing whatever
saved but the lives of the persons on board, and the
boat which conveyed them on shore. The melancholy
news of the loss of his son and his ship arriving so
rapidly one after the other, caused the most inexpressi
ble affliction to the poor man. The holy patriarch
was also exceedingly affected with it, more especially
on account of the death of his only son ; wherefore,
not knowing what else to do, be besought the Father
of mercies, and God of all consolation, to comfort the
afflicted parent. Then sending a messenger t:> the
man, as he had not the courage to see or speak to
himself in person, he desired him not to lose his confr
ST. JOHN THE ALMONER. 361
dence in God, whose judgments, though inscrutable,
are nevertheless just, and according to what he knows
is best for us, though we do not ; and therefore cau
tioned him against any want of resignation on this oc
casion, lest he should bereave himself of the immense
reward which God had prepared to recompense his
faith and chanty, manifested in the offering he had
made to God. This message was followed by a dream
or vision the ensuing night, in which the maji of God
appeared to the afflicted parent while asleep, and said
to him, " Why do you afflict yourself, dear brother,
and suffer yourself to be thus oppressed with grief?
Did not you desire me to pray to. God to save your
son, and behold he has saved him. For I can assure
you, that had he lived he would have become a very
lewd man ; and as for your ship, had not God been
moved to mercy, by the good work you did in ad
dressing your charity to me, it would have been utterly
lost, together with every person on board, so that you
would have lost your brother also. Arise, then, and
return thanks to God not only for preserving the life
of your brother, but also for having saved your son,
by taking him to himself before he became corrupted
by the wicked maxims and vanities of the world."
Having awoke and found himself wonderfully com
forted, he went early in the morning to the patriarch,
to return thanks to God and to him, and related to
him the vision he had seen. The holy man having
862 ST. JOHN THE ALMONER.
glorified God, for his infinite goodness, desired the
other not to attribute any thing of what happened to
his prayers, but to God alone, and the faith he had
placed in God ; foi the blessed prelate had always the
meanest opinion of himself, as was ever apparent from
all his words and whole comportment, as he would
never suffer any thing of good to be ascribed to him.
One of the principal men of the city, observing that
the Saint, who was so liberal to others, allowed him
self only a poor little bed on the floor, with an old tat
tered blanket for a covering for his lodging, sent him
in one day a rich coverlet that cost six and thirty
pieces of silver, conjuring him to make use of it for his
sake. The servant of God, yielding to his importuni
ty, used it for one night ; but as they that lay in the
same chamber observed, that instead of sleeping he
spent the whole night in reproaching himself in the
following manner with lying beneath such a rich cov
ering, whilst the brethren of Jesus Christ, as he called
the poor, lay starving with hunger and cold, and des
titute of all the commodities of life : " and thou who
aspirest after the joys of a happy eternity," he said to
himself, " thou who drinkest wine, eatest good nsh,
art well lodged, and, like one of the children of this
wicked world, art also warmly covered, and liest at thy
ease under a coverlet that cost six-and-thirty pieces of
silver ; surely living in so unmortified a manner, in-
rtead of expecting the joys of heaven hereafter, thou
BT. JOHN THE ALMONER. 363
hast rather cause to apprehend that sentence pro
nounced on the rich man will fall to thy lot, to whom
it was said, Luke xvi. Thou didst receive good things
in thy life time, and lilceiuise Lazarus evil things : but
now he is comforted, and thou art tormented." The
result of these reflections was, that he resolved to get
rid of this rich piece of furniture the next morning, and
sell it for the benefit of the poor, which he did with
out any delay. When the gentleman saw his present
exposed for sale, he purchased it, arid sent it to him
again, entreating him to make use of it : he sold it a
second time, and again in like manner a third time,
giving the price of it to the poor, and telling his
friends, with a pleasant countenance, " we shall now
see which of us shall be first wearied out." This gen
tleman being very rich, and one from whom the Saint
received many things, which he gave to the poor, upon
these and similar occasions the Saint used to say, it
was no harm to get all he could from the rich for the
service of the poor, since by so doing he served both
the one and the other ; the poor, by relieving their
wants, and the rich, by affording them the occasion to
purchase heaven by their alms.
Amongst other exercises and lessons of charity
which the Saint inculcated to his people, we must not
pass over his sentiments with regard to the manner in
which masters ought to treat their servants. Attend
to the manner in which he expressed himself ons day
364 ST. JOHN THE ALMONER.
on this subject, to one who was cruel and inhuman td
his slaves : " My son," said he, with the utmost meek
ness, " I understand that by the temptation of the ene
my, you are apt to treat your servants ill ; let me en
treat of you, for the time to come, to stop till your
passion is passed over before you offer to correct them.
For God has given them to us in order that they may
serve us, but not that we should beat and abuse them ;
nay, perhaps he may have given them more witli a
view of exercising our patience, in supporting their
faults and defects, than for any other service they can
do. But tell me, Sir, with what price could you buy
any one of these who has the honor to have been
created, no less than yourself, after the imago and like
ness of God ; for, though you are his master, what
have you either in body or so-nl that he has not ?
Give ear to St. Paul, Gal. iii. For as many of you
that have been baptized in Christ, have put on Christ ;
there is neither Jew nor Greek : tJtere is neither bond
nor free : there is neither male nor female-. For you
are all one in Christ Jesus. Jesus Christ then, by
taking upon himself the form of a servant, has taught
us that we ought not to lift ourselves by pride over
those whom he had made our servants : for as the
prophet teaches us, Ps. 112, there is but one great
Niaster and Lord of the universe, who is as the Lord
Wir God, ivho dwellcth on hif/h, and looketh down
on the low things, in heaven and in earth; he doea
ST. JOTTN THE ALMONEfc s 365
not say on the high things, but on the low things.
How then can we pretend to domineer over those
who have been redeemed, no less than ourselves, with
the blood of our God and Master, for whose service ha
has made the heavens, the sun, the stars, the earth
the sea, and all the things therein ; for whose pro
bection he employs his angels, and for whom the Son
of God has subjected himself to all the humiliations
and torments of his passion ? Can you, I say, Sir,
treat with contempt this man whom God treats with
honor ? Shall you strike him as you would a beast,
or as if he were not of the same nature as yourself?
Tell me whether you be willing that every time you
offend God he should punish you the same moment ?
I am certain you would not. How then can you say
daily to God, for gi ve us our trespasses, as we forgive
them that trespass against us? Do you do as you
would be done by ? "
This charity which the Saint inculcated to others he
ever practised himself, without excepting his very ene
mies. Instead of being offended against those who
had injured or wronged him, he, on the contrary, con
ferred on them greater favors, that he might overcome
evil with good ; nay, he even humbled himself some
times to impenitent sinners, by casting himself at their
feet, and begging their pardon, although the fault was
wholly on their side, that by these means he might
bring them to a reconciliation with God and his Church.
386 ST. JOHN THE ALMONER.
One day a beggar having asked an alms of the holj
patriarch, he ordered them that accompanied him to
give him ten pieces of brass. The man, who expect
ed more, instead of thanks returned him very abusive
language, and treated him in a most insolent man
ner. Those that were present, being moved to indig
nation, would have punished the wretch upon the
spot, had not the Saint severely reproved them, say
ing, " Let him finish what he has a mind to say ;
for why should not I, my brethren, suffer this small
injury from a poor man, I who, for these sixty years,
have been continually offending and injuring my God
by my sins ? "
Amongst other chanties, the Saint also founded
several hospitals ; and whilst a great mortality raged
at Alexandria, he was very assiduous in attending such
as were at the point of death, and in assisting them in
their agony. He was also very diligent, not only in
providing himself, but in ordering prayers to be offer
ed in behalf of the souls of the faithful departed. In
recommendation of this charity, and as a proof of the
efficacy of such prayers, he related what had happen
ed not long before to one of his countrymen, who had
been carried away captive by the Persians, and cast
into a prison called Lethe, or Oblivion. His friends
having heard that he was dead, procured prayers to
be said three several times every year, for the repose
e* his soul ; at each of which fas he assures them,
ST. JOHN THE ALMONER. 367
when after four years he made bis escape out of pris-
DII, and returned home) he was always visited and
comforted by a person shining like the sun, and was
delivered on those occasions from his chains for the
whole day.
The Saint recommended very much to his people
the remembrance of death, as a most "wholesome
meditation for all men ; and having been told, that
on the day of the coronation of the emperor, several
pieces of different sorts of marble were presented to
him, in order that he might choose the kind of which
he would have his tomb made, that being ever mind
ful of his mortality and speedy return to dust, he
might not suffer himself to be puffed up with pride,
but take care to live and govern in such a manner, as
to be always prepared for his last end ; he also, with
the same intention, gave orders to have a sepulchre
prepared for himself amongst the tombs of the patri
archs his predecessors, but that it should not be finish
ed till his death ; in the mean time he desired that
the workmen, upon certain solemn days, should come
and tell him, in presence of all his clergy : " My lore 1 .,
your tomb remains unfinished, give orders, if you
please, that it may be completed, since you know no!
the hour, as the scripture says, when the thief shall
come." He also often entertained his friends that
came to visit him with this same subject, of the con
tinual thought we ought to have of death, and of thai
868 ST. JOHN THE ALMONER.
separation which shall then take place between the
soul and body. " I am of opinion," said he, " that the
means to work out our salvation is, to be always think
ing with sorrow on the hour of our death, and to
consider well that we shall have no one to share with
us the pains and conflicts we must then go through
that at that hour the whole world shall forsake us, our
good works excepted, which will never abandon us :
to think how great our astonishment and affliction
must be, if at our departure hence we are not prepared
for our trial : to reflect that it will be in vain then
to ask for a little more time wherein to do penance
when we shall be reproached for having had so much,
and made such ill use of it. " And how," said he,
11 shall poor John, (for so he commonly called himself)
escape the claws of those cruel beasts that shall watch
to catch him at his departure hence ? What can he
do when he shall see before him those bands of evil
spirits, who shall strictly examine him, and charge
home upon him all the evil he had done?" Which,
he said, alluding to a vision in which St. Simon Sty-
iites had seen in spirit, how, at the time of the separa
tion of the soul from the body, when she would will
ingly fly up towards heaven, she meets with devils in
her way, divided into different companies, according
to the different vices which they usually suggest ; and
that the demons of pride examine the soul upon the
ains committed in that kind : those of impurity ex
ST. JOHN THE ALMONER. 363
Rmine her upon all her carnal sins and impure d ilec-
tations : those of detraction, upon every word that
has proceeded out of her mouth against her neighbor :
and so of all her other sins. Our Saint had this vision
often in mind ; as also that passage of the life of St.
Hilarion, of the fear and apprehension he had, and
the words he spoke to his soul, when he was upon the
point of death ; and therefore he would often be say
ing to himself: "If so great a Saint, who had served
our Lord for such a number of years, who had wrought
so many miracles, and even raised the dead to life, yefc
apprehended so much that dreadful hour, what shalt
thou be able to say or do, when thou shalt, find thy
self encompassed by those cruel and unmerciful exam
iners of all thy actions ? What shalt thou be able to
answer to such of these unhappy spirits as shall ex
amine thee with regard to thy lies, thy detraction, thy
hardheartedness, thy avarice, thy remembrance of in
juries, or thy ill-will, &c. O merciful God, may thy
almighty hand defend me at that hour from all the
efforts of these enemies of my salvation ! May thy
goodness send thy angels to guide and conduct me
safe in this last great and dangerous journey from time
to eternity ! " Such were the sentiments of our Saint,
in his entertainments upon this most interesting sub-
J3Ct, of the soul s passage out of this world into the
other.
St, John had now illustrated the church of Alexaa*
870 ST. JOHN THE ALMONER.
dria for ten years as a burning and a shining liyhi,
when the time drawing near in which our Lord de
signed to take him to himself, he resigned his patri
archal see, and retired into his native country, Cyprus,
in order to prepare himself for eternity. As soon as he
arrived at Amathus, the place of his nativity, having
a foreknowledge, by revelation, of his approaching
death, he made his last will and testament in words to
this effect : " I John, who was born a slave to sin, but
have been made a free man by the grace of God, who,
without any deserts of mine, has raised me to the
priestly dignity, return thee most humble thanks, O
Lord, that thou hast vouchsafed to hear the prayer I
have made to thee, that I should not possess at my
death any more than one small piece of money ; and
that whereas when I was made bishop I had great
treasures at my disposal, and have received since im
mense sums from thy servants, thou hast always made
me sensible that all this store was thine, and hast done
me the favor ever to give back to thee without delay
what belonged to thee ; therefore, as this piece of
money which remains belongs also to tltee no less than
all the rest, I desire it may be likewise returned to
thee, by putting it into the hands of the poor."
St. John the Almoner departed to our Lord in tht
sixty fourth year of his age, anno 616. His body wa
interred in the church of Amathus, in the chapel o*
St. Tychon, formerly bishop of that see, where manj
ST. SYNCLETICA. 37)
miracles were afterwards wrought through his interces
sion. His name is recorded in the Roman Martyr
ology on the twenty-third of January.
ST. SYXCLETICA.
From her ancient Life, "by a Writer of the same Age
believed "by many to have "been St. Athanasiua.
ST. SYNCLETICA was born at Alexandria, about the
latter part of the third century, of noble and wealthy
Christian parents, whom God had blessed with four
children, two sons and two daughters. One of the
sons died very young, the other, having attained to the
age of twenty-five, when, at the desire of his parents,
he was contracted to a young lady, and when all things
were prepared for solemnizing the marriage, he was
suddenly carried off by death into another region,
where they neither marry nor are given in marriage.
Syncletica, the eldest of the two daughters, from her
tender years consecrated her heart to the love of Christ,
and accustomed herself to the exercises of Christian
piety and solid devotion, taking always far more care
of the soul than of the body. As she advanced in
age she increased in virtue and in the love of purity,
which determined her to choose no other spouse but
872 ST. SYNCLUTIUA.
Jesus Christ. For the love of him she rejected the
most advantageous worldly offers that could be inado
her; and instead of the outward ornaments of the
body, which those of her ago and quality are usually
so fond of, she diligently procured the better ornaments
of the interior house of her soul, where she desired to
entertain the King of kings, who is beautiful above the
sons of men. Hence she carefully shunned all dan
gerous worldly diversions and unprofitable recreations,
seeking always the conversation of such as entertained
her with godly discourses and exhortations to piety, to
whom she hearkened with the most diligent attention,
laying up their words in her memory, and meditating
frequently upon them. In the mean time she waa
exceeding temperate, and mortified in her eating and
drinking, looking upon this virtue as the best preserv
ative of purity ; and though by her fasting and other
austerities, her countenance became both pale and
meagre, yet she regarded it not, being not so desirous
to please the eyes of men as those of God ; and find
ing by experience that what weakened the body served
to invigorate the soul. However, she was always dis
creet in these corporal mortifications, and took all pos
sible care to conceal them, from being either seen or
observed by others.
Her parents dying, left her mistress of all their
worldly substance ; so that now finding herself at full
liberty to follow the call of God, and to retire alto
ST. SYNCLETICA. $73
Aether from the world, after having made a sufficient
trial of herself, by way of preparation for those aus
terities she designed to embrace, she disposed of all
her wealth in favor of the poor ; and cutting off her
hair, in token of her renouncing the world and all its
superfluities, she withdrew herself from the town, and
chose a sepulchre, or monument, in the neighborhood,
for her dwelling place, during the remainder of the
days of her mortality, taking also along with her her
youngest sister, who was also desirous of following the
same kind of life. Here she lived separated in a man
ner from the conversation either of men or women, in
the exercises of mortification, penance, and continual
prayer. Her food was coarse bread made of bran ;
her ordinary drink was water, and her bed the bare
ground ; and as the watchful enemy plied her with
frequent and troublesome temptations, she opposed to
all his assaults the buckler of faith, with the helmet
of hope and confidence in our Lord, to whom she had
continual recourse; and on these occasions she re
doubled her austerities in order to keep the flesh in
subjection, yet so as still to have an eye upon the salt
of prudence and discretion, wherewith our Lord wills
hat all the sacrifices we offer to him should be sea
soned, Levit. ii. 13. Far from conceiving a good opin
ion of herself for having quitted her worldly goods,
she kept herself always humble ; by thinking she was
Btill at a very great distance from what she ought to
i\ t 8T. SYNCLETICA.
bo , and instead of contenting herself with that volun-
tar.; poverty which she had embraced when she re
nowned all exterior possessions, she made it her chief-
eet labor to purify her soul, as well from all desires
and afleotions to any thing created, as from all those
spiritual vices that are apt to lurk secretly in the
interior.
Notwithstanding her utmost endeavors to hide her
eminent vnUies from the eyes of others, and to avoid,
as much as possible, all commerce with the world, yet,
as the almighty had so ordered it for his own greater
glory, and the good of a great number of souls, she
could not keep herself so closely concealed as to pre
vent the sweet odour of her sanctity from breaking
forth from her sepulchre, and spreading herself, by
degrees over the whole neighborhood. Hence many
devout virgins came to visit her, desiring to profit by
her heavenly conversation, and to learn from her lips
the lesson:! of religious perfection and of a truly chris-
tian life. At first humility would not suffer her to
converse with theni, or give them the instructions they
desired ; but wheu (hey pressed her to speak on di
vine matters, she coutented herself with edifying them
by her silence, sighs and tears, till at length charity
prevailing over humility, she yielded to their impor
tunity, and gave them many excellent lessons for the
regulating of their lives, set down at large by oar au
thor in her life, as a rule for such holy virgins as aa-
ST. 8YNCLETICA. 375
pfce after religious perfection, of whom she is generally
considered the mother and foundress.
She begins by inculcating to them as her principal
lesson, to have always before their eyes, and to im
print deeply in their hearts the two principal com
mandments : thou shalt love the Lord thy God with
thy whole heart, &c. and thy neighbor as thyself:
which she tells them are an abridgment of the whole
divine law, and comprise all the perfection God de
sires from us. That in the exercise of this divine
love, those who desire to dedicate themselves to God,
must fix no bounds to themselves, but endeavor always
to advance : that they must not content themselves
with being the land that bringeth forth only thirty
fold, but must labor to bring forth sixty, and a hun
dred fold : that as it would be infinitely dangerous
to fall from a higher to a lower degree of virtue,
from bringing forth sixty, to bring forth only thirty
fold, it being so natural when we once begin to sink
downwards, to fall lower and lower, till we fall head
long down the precipice, so we must never think of
standing still in the way of God, which would in ef
fect be going backwards ; but as the apostle admon
ishes, Philip, iii. 13, 14, forgetting the things that are
behind, and stretching forth myself to those that are
before, I pursue towards the mark, for the prize oj
the supernal vocation of God hi Christ Jesus.
In the next place she tells them, that in ordei to
SVC ST. SYNCLLTICA.
preserve and maintain the purity of their souls and
bodies, they must exercise themselves in the mortifica
tion of their sensual appetite, not only with regard to
eating- and drinking, but also with respect to the
guard they ought to keep upon their eyes, their ears,
their tongue, <fec., lest the angels of darkness, who are
the robbers and murderers that are always endeavor
ing to do us as much mischief as they can, should
steal into our soul by any avenue that, should be left
unguarded : therefore she recommends a spirit of recol
lection and retirement, and to have as little communi
cation as possible with -the world ; for how, says she,
can a house surrounded on all sides by smoke, escape
being sullied and made black within, if the doors and
windows are always open ? She adds, that they must,
according to our Lord s prescription, be ever wise as
serpents, and innocent as doves, wisely watching against
all the deceits and assaults of the wicked one, who is
ever besieging them within and without; and in all
their actions keep close to God, by purity and simpli
city, both in their intention and affection ; and that
the arms they must continually make use of in this
warfare, are the exercises of a spiritual life, more es
pecially fasting and fervent prayer.
She proceeds in the next place to treat of the ad
vantages of voluntary poverty, and of quitting all
things for Christ, by showing that nothing can be of
greater service to a soul that has, by the exercise of
8T. SYNCLETIOA. 377
other virtues, and the custom of mortifying herself in
eating, drinking, hard lodging, &c. first to learn to be
content with little, and cheerfully sacrifice her own
will, inclinations, and pleasures to God ; for no sooner
do we renounce the perishable goods of the earth,
than we easily learn to turn our eyes towards heaven,
to seek that hidden treasure which alone is able tc
make us rich for eternity, in the happy possession of
God himself. Oh ! what a shame, would she say,
that we should not be ready to undergo all kinds of
labors and sufferings for acquiring so invaluable a
treasure, when we daily behold the children of this
world expose themselves to far greater labors, suffer
ings, and dangers, for the sake of a little worldly dirt.
She also warns them against making a parade of
their virtues, or publishing their good actions, by mak
ing them the subject of their conversation with others ;
for as a treasure that lies exposed to the public is
quickly taken away and lost to its owner, so virtue
presently fades and evaporates, when we make a show
of it, or publish it to the world. Praise and applau&e
are ever apt to weaken the vigor of the soul ; whilst
on the other hand, it commonly receives an additional
increase of strength from affronts, reproaches and in
juries. She therefore exhorted them to rejoice under
Bufferings, and endeavor, by prayer and spiritual cant
icles, to banish sadness in general away from them as
an enemy, that wholesome sorrow only excepted,
378 ST. SYNCLETICA.
\vkich is according to God, by which we grieve for
havinor offended him.
C3
She goes on by strenuously recommending a con
stant watchfulness over their hearts, that they be ever
earful and diffident of their own strength, and neve
think themselves secure in this life. Upon which oc
casion she treats at large on the excellence and neces
sity of self-knowledge and humility, and warns them
against the pernicious consequences of pride, self-con
ceit, and presumption, which she tells them are the
most heinous of all sins, as well as against the pas
sions of anger, resentment, remembrance of injuries,
envy, and detraction, the daughters of pride, which
being spiritual sins, frequently overlooked and neglect
ed, are apt to leave mortal wounds behind them in
the most noble parts of the soul ; wounds the more
hard to be cured, as they are generally less appre
hended.
The Saint also gave her spiritual daughters many
other excellent lessons, inserted by the author of her
life at large, who assures us, that what she taught
them by words, she continually enforced by her ex
ample ; and that no tongue was capable of expressing
the spiritual advantages, that those who were so hap
py as to hear her, received from her heavenly conver
sation, and the incredible fruits which her instructions
produced in many souls.
Syncletica continued her regular exercises of devo*
ST. SYNCLETICA. 379
tt>fl and penance, advancing daily more and more in*
trie iove of God, till she arrived at the age of fourscore
yeHNs ; at which time our Lord was pleased to permit
her u> be afflicted by the most violent interior pains
and Diseases, joined with as horrible temptations as if
Satan had obtained permission from God to put her
patience to as severe a trial, and torment her as much
as he did Job, with a complication of the most severe
sufferings. She passed through this course of penance
for tl*e space of three years and a half, with an incred
ible patience and courage, to the great edification of
all that approached her, to whom she ceased not to
preacn both by word and example. Towards the
lattei part of this time, a cancer in her mouth was
added to the rest of her sufferings, which spread itself
so far as to consume a great part of her face, and
which, besides the pain and the insupportable stench
it caused, prevented her from being able either to eat
or to speak. In this condition she remained suffering,
like a martyr, for the space of three months, support
ed only by divine grace, till the end of her life ap
proaching, she was favored with a rapt, or ecstacy, in
which she beheld the glory and light of the heavenly
mansions that were prepared for her, with troops of
angels and holy virgins, who invited her to come and
oin their happy company. Returning to herself, she
tound herself able to give her last instructions to the
virgins that surrounded her ; exhorting them particu-
380 ST. THAIS THE PENITENT.
iarly to constancy, courage, and perseverance in their
holy undertaking, and telling them, that within three
days, at an hour which she named, she should be
taken away from them. Accordingly when that hour
arrived, her pure soul took its flight from this vale of
tears, and went to take possession of the kingdom of
her heavenly Bridegroom. Her name stands re
corded in the Roman Martyrology on the fifth of
January.
ST. THAIS THE PENITENT.
From an ancient Greek Writer.
THAIS was a native of Egypt, who being exceedingly
beautiful, was so unhappy as to be betrayed and pros
tituted by her own mother to infamy and sin. Hav
ing followed a most wicked course of life for a long
time, she, on account of her extraordinary beauty, be
came the ruin of many, who spent their fortunes on
hfcr, and frequently quarrelled so much about her, that
murders were sometimes committed on her account.
There happened to live at this time in a neighboring
desert a holy abbot, called Paplmucius, who, on hear
ing of the wretched life she led, and of the havoc
8T. THAIS THE PENITENT. 381
which Satan by her means had made amongst the
youth of that part of Egypt, became inspired with a
desire to attempt her conversion. For this purpose,
procuring a secular habit, and taking some money
with him, he went to the place where she lived, and
desiring to speak to her in private, was introduced by
her into a chamber richly furnished. Having asked
her if she had not some more retired apartment ? she
replied she had : but added, what can you be afraid
of ? for as for men, I assure you, no mortal can see us,
or dare to come into the room where we are ; and as
for God, he would equally see us wherever we went.
" Oh ! " said he, " dost thou then believe there is a
God, whose all-seeing eye is always upon us." " Yes,
Sir," replied she, " I do believe there is an all-seeing
God ; and what is more, I do believe there is a heaven,
where the good shall be rewarded with never-ending
bliss ; and also a hell, where the wicked shall be tor
mented for all eternity."
Paphnucius rejoicing interiorly to hear her make
this profession of her faith began to represent to her
the dismal state of her soul, and the dreadful account
she must one day give for the souls of so many others
whom she had seduced into sin, in so pathetic a man
ner, and with such powerful unction of divine grace,
that perceiving him to be a man of God, she cast her
self at his feet, and poured forth torrents of tears, gave
herself up to be directed by him, offering without a
382 ST. THAIS THE PENITENT.
moment s delay, to undergo whatsoever penance he
should think proper to appoint, and in what place he
pleased ; hoping, as she said, that through his prayers
God would show her mercy. Paphnucius having men
tioned the place where she should come to him, depart
ed, whilst she immediately prepared herself to follow
him. But first gathering what she had acquired by
sin, viz. all the rich presents of her lovers, together ii/
one heap, she made a bonfire of them in the midst oi
the street, in the sight of all the people, and of those
who had been accomplices in her crimes, declaring
publicly an abhorrence of every thing that contributed
to detain her in that way of life. Having made tin?
first sacrifice, she repaired to the place appointed by
Paphnucius, who conducted her from thence to a mon
astery of nuns, where he shut her up in a cell by herself,
and stopped up the door, leaving only a small aperture,
or window, to which he desired the sisters to convey
to her a little bread and water every day, which was to
be her whole allowance for the remainder of her life.
Before he departed from her, she asked him what
prayers he would recommend to her, and in wha
manner he would have her address herself to God ii
prayer \ " Thou art not worthy," said he, " either tc
invoke the sacred name of God with thy polluted lips
nor to stretch forth thy hands, or lift up thy eyes to
wards heaven, after so many abominations ; let it suf
fice then for thee to sit turned towards the East, ana
ST. THAIS THE PENITENT. 383
frequently to repeat these words : Thou that hast
made me, have mercy on me."
She continued this course of penance, in her solitary
enclosure, for the space of three years, till at length
Paphnucius, having compassion on her, went to con*
suit the great St. Antony, at that time the oracle of
Egypt, to learn whether God had accepted her penance
and pardoned her sins. St. Antony having assembled
his disciples together, and exhorted them to pray that
God would be pleased to let them know what Paph
nucius so earnestly required. St. Paul the Simple saw
.hat very night in a vision, a glorious throne, or bed
of state, in heaven, surrounded by three virgins, glit
tering with beams of heavenly light ; and whilst he
was thinking within himself that this throne could be
designed for no other than St. Antony, he was an
swered by a voice : " It is not for thy father Antony,
but for Thais the harlot." This vision being notified
to Paphnucius, he concluded it was the will of God
that Thais should be released from her confinement,
and therefore let her out, whilst she, on her part de
sired to remain where she was, but at length humbly
submitted to the will of her holy director. Having
told her that God had forgiven her sins, she assured
him, that from the time she first entered into her cell,
she had collected them together as it were into one
heap, and placing them before her eyes, never ceased
to think on and bewail them.
384 ST. PELAGIA THE PENITENT.
" It is on beholding your contrition," said Paphnn-
cius, "that God has shown you mercy, and not on
account of the rigor of your penance." She lived no
longer than fifteen days after she had been released
from her penitential enclosure, when she was called
to see the good things of our Lord in the land oj
the living.
ST. PELAGIA THE PENITENT.
From her Lifa by James the Deacon, her Cotem-
porary.
PELAGIA was a famous actress in the city of Antioch,
^t that time the capital of Syria, and of the whole
East. Her extraordinary beauty drew many lovers
after her, and so unhappy was she as to yield herself
up to a very sinful course of life, without the least re
straint, although she professed herself a Christian, and
had been formerly admitted into the number of Cate
chumens who were under instruction for baptism, but
had now left off her attendance at church for that
purpose. It happened at this time, viz. about, the be
ginning of the fifth century, that several bishops, and
others of the clergy, were assembled at Antioch upon
some ecclesiastical affairs ; amongst whom was the
holy prelate Nonnus, who, from a monk of the nion-
ST. PELAGIA THE PENITENT. 385
Bstery of Tabenna, was, on account of his admirable
virtue and wisdom, raised to the see of Heliopolis.
Th^se prelates were .oxlged in the neighborhood of
the church of St. Julian the martyr, where they met
together to treat upon the business that had called
them to Antioch. One day, whilst they were sitting
before the church with St. Nonnus, who was then en
tertaining them with a spiritual conference, to their
great edification, Pelagia passed before them in great
pomp, decked with gold, pearls, and precious stones,
accompanied by a numerous train of young men and
women. Her beauty with the lustre of her jewels,
and her rich attire, drew the eyes of all the fond ad
mirers of these empty toys upon her; but whilst the
prelates turned away their faces aside, because having
no veil over her head, and her very shoulders being
uncovered, they were offended at the immodesty of
her dress, Nonnus only seemed to take notice of her,
and to consider her with great attention. After she
had passed by, turning to his fellow-bishops, he said
to them, with many sighs and tears : " I fear God will
one day bring this woman to confront us before the
throne of his justice, in order to condemn our negli
gence and tepidity in his service, and in the discharge
of our duty to the flock he has committed to OUT
care. For how many hours do you think she has em
ployed this very day in her chamber in washing and
eleaning herself, in dressing, adorning, and embellish-
B86 ST. PELAGIA THE PENITENT.
ing her whole person to the best advantage, with a
view to exhibit her beauty to please the eyes of the
world, and particularly her" unhappy lovers, who,
though alive to-day, may possibly be dead to-mor
row ? Whereas we, who have an Almighty Father,
an immortal Spouse, in heaven, to whose love and ser
vice we have consecrated ourselves; we, to whom
the immense and eternal treasures of heaven are
promised as the reward of our short labors upon
earth, are far from taking as much pains to wash and
purify our souls from their stains, and procure for
them those bright ornaments of virtue and sanctity,
which alone can render them truly agreeable in the
eyes of God." Having spoken to this effect, he rose
up and returned home, where, prostrating himself on
the floor, he bitterly lamented his misery, in having
buffered himself to be thus outdone by a sinful woman,
and implored the divine mercy for the forgiveness of
his negligence and tepidity.
The next day being Sunday, all the bishops assem
bled in the great church where the patriarch of Anti-
och celebrated mass. After the gospel was read, he
presented the book to St. Nonnus, and desired him to
make an exhortation to the people. The holy prelate
obeyed, and made a most pathetic discourse, full of
the unction of the spirit of God, on the subject of the
ast judgment, and of the world to come, which drew
tears from the 3yes of the whole auditory, amongst
ST. PALAGIA THE PENITENT. 387
whom was Pelagia, who had not been within a church
for a long time before, and h^s sermon made so deep
an impression on her soul, that she could not refrain
the whole time from sighing, and sobbing, and pour
ing out floods of tears, through the deep sense she con
ceived of her sins. As soon as the divine service was
over, she sent a letter to the holy prelate to this effect.
To the holy disciple of Jesus Christ, from a sinful
wretch, a scholar of the devil.
I have learnt that the God whom you worship came
down from heaven to the earth, riot for the sake of the
just, but to save poor sinners, and that he humbled
himself so far as to suffer publicans to come to him,
and did not disdain to speak with the sinful Samaritan
woman at the well ; wherefore, as I understand, that
though you never have seen him with your mortal
eyes, you are nevertheless a follower of his, and have
served him faithfully for many years, I conjure you,
for his sake, to show yourself to be his true disciple,
by suffering a poor sinner to come to you, and not
despise the extreme desire I have to approach to him
through your assistance." The Saint sent her word,
that if she was sincere in her desires of instruction and
conversion, she might come to him to the church o.
Julian, where he would speak to her in the presence
of the other bishops, not thinking it proper to converse
with her in private.
588 6T. PELAG1A THE PENITENT.
No sooner had Pelagia received this permission than
she ran with all possible speed to the church, and cast
herself at the feet of the holy prelate, earnestly be
seeching him through the example of his great Mas
ter, to receive the worst of sinners, and cleanse her
from the filth and abomination of her crimes, in the
founta n of baptism. The Saint told her, that by the
discipline of the Church, persons who like her had
been a long time engaged in criminal habits, could
not be admitted to baptism without first producing
proper sureties who should answer for her returning
no more to their sinful ways ; but she not being able
to bear the enormous weight of her sins, or to con
tinue any longer contaminated by their filth, would
hear of no delay, wherefore embracing the feet of the
servant of God, and washing them with floods of tears,
she conjured them to baptize her upon the spot, in
order to a new life, that she might instantly be pre
sented without spot or blemish to Jesus Christ : this
petition she urged with so much fervor, such demon-
etrations of a lively faith, and so ardent a desire of
saving her soul, that the prelates were unanimously
of opinion, that as the hand of God manifested itself
in her favor in so extraordinary a manner, her request
ought to be admitted. They therefore sent to ac
quaint the patriarch with all that had passed, who
approving of her being baptized, sent the lady Roma-
pa, the chief of the widows that were in the service of
ST. PELAGIA THE PENITENT. 389
the great church, to attend her as godmother on the
occasion. This good lady found her still bewailing
her sins at the feet of the Saint, from which she could
not be prevailed to remove, till he commanded her to
rise, in order to proceed to the exorcisms and prayets
as used by the Church before baptism. After making
a public confession and detestation of all her crimes,
he baptized her ; and then, according to the custom of
the Church in those days, administered to her the sacra
ments of confirmation and of the body of our Lord.
The same day, as our author relates, who being
deacon to St. Nonnus was himself present, whilst the
holy bishop and he sat at table together, rejoicing with
the angels upon the conversion of so great a sinner,
they heard distinctly before the door a voice as of one
bitterly complaining in these or the like words :
"Alas! alas! must I be continually tormented by
thee in this manner ? Not satisfied with having rob
bed me heretofore of no less than thirty thousand
souls of the nation of the Saracens, which thou hast
presented to thy God ; not content to have also snatch
ed the city of Heliopolis out of my hands, where all
the people worshipped me, must thou also bereave me
of the greatest hope I had left ? or dost thou think I
can any longer bear with thee, or support the perse-
secutions thou makest me suffer ? " In this manner
did Satan express his grief At the loss of his prey, and
his rage against the holy prelate, who took no
990 ST. PELAGIA THE PENITENT.
of him, but armed his convert against all the effort*
and temptations of this e.nemy, and taught her to drive
him away by a confidence in her Saviour, and the
sign of his cross.
The third day after baptism, Pelagia having taken
an inventory of all her plate, jewels, rich clothes, and
other goods, put it into the hands of St. Nonnus, say
ing : " My Lord, here is the whole of the goods I have
acquired from the devil ; I give them all up to your
disposal ; give such orders concerning them as you
judgQ to be for the best. As to my part, I desire no
riches for the time to come but those of my Saviour
Jesus Christ." The holy prelate sent immediately for
the treasurer of the church, and delivering the inven
tory into his hands, charged him, as he would answer
for it before God, not to apply any part of her goods
either to the service of the bishop or the church, but
to distribute the whole to poor widows and orphans,
and such like objects ; that as they had been ill got
ten, they might now at least be well applied. On
the same day Pelagia set all her slaves, both men and
women at liberty, earnestly exhorting them, at the
same time, to shake off that yoke of servitude by which
they had, as well as herself, been slaves to a corrupt
and sinful world ; that passing over with her to the
true liberty of the children of God, they might one day
arrive with her at the enjoyment of that true and
eternal lh ? e which knows neither sin nor sorrow.
ST. PELAGIA THE PENITENT. 891
On the eighth day, when those that had been bap
tized, according to the ancient custom of the Church,
put off the white garment they received at their bap<
tism, Pelagia rising privately in the night, exchanged
her baptismal robe for a habit of haircloth, and an old
nantle which she had received from St. Nonnus, and
without communicating her design to any one but him,
she withdrew from Antioch, and going into the Holy
Land, took up her habitation for life in a narrow cell
upon mount Olivet, where she lived as an anchoret,
shut up in such a manner as to have only a small
window through which she might receive the neces
saries of life, and spending her whole time with our
Lord in fasting and prayer. The other religious in
habitants of this holy mountain were so perfectly igno
rant who she was, as not even to know whether she
*vas a woman, so effectually had she concealed her sex,
calling herself by the name of Pelagius ; but they all
admired the great abstraction, austerity, and sanctity
of her life.
Some years after this, our author, James the dea
con, made a pilgrimage of devotion to visit the .sepul
chre of our Lord at Jerusalem. Upon this occasion
his holy bishop recommended to him to inquire afte?
.a servant of God named Pelagius, that led an ancho-
rctical life upon mount Olivet. He executed his com
mission, little thinking that this anchoret was the fa-
aious Pelagia whrm he had seen baptized, and who
392 ST. PELAGIA THE PENlrEN*
presently after disappeared and was no more heard of.
But though he readily found out the cell, by inquir
ing of the religious who dwelt in the neighborhood,
and went and spoke to her through the window, yet
being much altered by her austerities, he knew her
not. He told her he came by the desire of Bishop
Nonnus to inquire after her. Nonnus, said she, is a
great Saint, and I beg that he will pray for me
With that she shut the window and began to sing
Tierce, or the third hour of the divine office, whilst
the deacon was praying without, much comforted with
having seen so holy a person. Afterwards visiting the
monasteries round about, and finding that all the ser
vants of God, wherever he came, conspired in giving
testimony to the wonderful sanctity of Pelagius, he
resolved to return and visit this holy anchoret once
more before he left the country, in order to receive
Home wholesome instruction from him. When he
came to her cell and knocked at the window, no one
opened it to him, and when he called no one answer
ed ; so that having continued for some time knock
ing and calling aloud, he began to think the anchoret
was gone away. At length having forced open the
window, he looked in and perceived the Saint to be
dead. Having conveyed the news of her death to the
neighboring religious, they immediately came, and
O *
opening the cell took out the body, in order to its be
ing interred with all the honor due to so great a ser
ST. MARY OF EGYPT. 393
vnnt of God. The secret of her sex being now dis
covered and noised abroad, all the holy virgins that
dwelt in the monasteries of Jericho and on the bankr.
of the Jordan, in the place where our Lord was bap
tized, came out with lighted tapers in their hands, sing-
ng hymns and psalms, to meet the corpse of the
Saint, which they conducted to their church, and there
deposited it as a rich treasure.
Her name is recorded in the Roman Martyrology
on the eighth of October, and the name of St. Non-
nus on the second of December.
ST. MARY OF EGYPT.
From her Life, -Britten by St. Soplironius, Patriarch
of Jerusalem.
THERE was in a monastery of Palestine, a holy priest
named Zosimus, who had from his childhood dedi
cated himself to the love of God, and spent fifty-threa
years in that community in the ex seises of a monastic
life, with such perfection as to be respected and ad
mired by all who knew him. This good father being
one day tempted with a thought that nothing more
was now wanting in him, and that he had already ar
rived, as ha imagined, at the top of the hill of relig*
594 ST. MART OF EGYPT.
ious perfection, was admonished by one appearing to
him in the shape of a man, of his error, and directed
by this messenger of heaven to another monastery
more remote from all conversation with the world,
situated in a solitary place on the banks of the river
Jordan, in order to learn still higher lessons in the
school of religion. In this place he found a company
of angels rather than men, so great was their fervor in
all that related to the service of God. They sang his
divine praises every hour of the night ; and in the day,
whilst their hands were employed in manual labor, the
psalms were always in their mouths and hearts. Here
was no room for any unprofitable conversation, having
made it their whole business not only absolutely to
forget the world, but even every thing in the world,
and to live as men quite dead to all things but the
one thing necessary. Their thoughts were continually
occupied on heavenly truths ; the emptiness and van
ity of all such things as pass away with time, and the
greatness of things eternal, were the subjects of their
constant meditation. Their greatest dainties for their
corporal sustenance were bread and water, whilst their
souls continually feasted on the word of God and
prayer.
It was the custom of these religious every year on
the first Sunday of Lent, after assisting at the divine
mysteries, and receiving the precious body and blood
of our Lord, to go forth into the vast wilderness be-
ST. M\RY OF EGYPT. 39
fond the river, there to spend that holy sea&on in per
fect solitude. They eat but very seldom, and then
only a few figs or dates, which they carried, or such
herbs as grew wild in the desert, frequently singing
psalms, and praying without ceasing. After spending
the greatest part of Lent in this manner, they all re
turned back again to the monastery, to celebrate the
passion and resurrection of our Lord, contriving always
to meet there against Palm-Sunday. The holy man,
Zosimus, according to the custom of the others, when
Lent came, crossed the river, designing to penetrate as
far as he could into the heart of the desert, in hopes,
as he afterwards said, of meeting with some Saint from
whom he might receive instruction and edification.
He took with him but slender provisions, and never
eat but when necessity compelled him. When night
found him. there he lay down on the ground to take
a little rest ; and as soon as the daylight permitted,
he hastened forward, as if he had been making the
best of his way towards some person of his acquaint
ance, halting only at certain times of the day, to sing
some psalms standing, and to spend some time in
prayer on his knees.
He continued his journey after this manner till
about mid-lent, when one day stopping at the sixth
hour, and performing his usual prayers, turned to
wards the East, he perceived on his right the shadow,
as it were, of a human body ; } \\t when he had fin
396 8T. MARY OP EOTl T.
ished his devotion, turning his eyes that way he plait
ly saw a person walking hastily towards the West x
whose naked body had grown quite black with the
heat of the sun, and whose hair was turned white as
wool. Upon this sight Zosimus was overjoyed, hoping
he had now found what he sought, and therefore ho
began to run with all his strength, in order to over
take the person whom he perceived to fly from him,
and through his earnest desire of coming up to her,
he continually gained ground of her, till coming with
in hearing, he cried out, " Servant of God, why dost
thou fly from a sinner, and a poor old man ? Who
ever thou art, I conjure thee, by that God, for whose
sake thou spendest thy days in this frightful desert, to
let me come near thee. I beg of thee to stop a little,
and not to refuse thy blessing and prayers to one who
entreats thee in the name of that God who has never
cast off any man that desired to come to him."
Whilst he was thus calling after her, she arrived at a
place that had been made hollow by the water of *
torrent, but which was now dried up ; and when she
had passed over to the other side, whither he not
being able to follow her, she cried, " Father Zosimus,
I beseech you, for God s sake, excuse my turning
about to speak to you, because I am a woman and
quite naked ; but if you are willing to favor a poor
winner with your blessing, fling over your mantle that
ST. MARY OF EGYPT. 807
I may cover myself with it, and then turn towards
you and receive your benediction."
The holy man, struck with astonishment to hear
her call him by his name, which he was convinced she
2ould not know but by revelation, readily complied
with her desire, and threw his mantle over, turning
hi 3 back towards her till she had covered herself
therewith ; which when she had done, she asked him,
what had brought him so far to see such a wretched
sinner as she was ? or what could he expect to know
or learn from her ? Having already conceived a high
opinion of her sanctity, he instead of answering her,
prostrated himself upon the ground, and according to
the custom of the religious when they visited one
another, craved her blessing. No, father, said she, fall
ing down upon her face, it is your part to bless and to
pray for me,, since you are a priest, and having for so
many years served the altar, are admitted to a greater
grace and light of God, and to the sacred mysteries
of Jesus Christ. The amazement of Zosimus was in
conceivable when he heard her speak of his being a
priest, and therefore venerating the spirit of God
within her, insisted the more upon her giving him her
blessing first ; nor would he rise from the ground till
she had so far condescended as to bless him in the fol
lowing manner : " Blessed be the Lord, that worketh
the salvatian of souls ; " to which he answered, Amen.
When they both rose up, she began to inquire concern-
34
198 ST. MARY OF EGYPT.
ing the state of Christendom ; whether the Church
enjoyed peace ; and how the faithful behaved in
their respective stations? Zosimus answered, that
God had doubtless heard her prayers and granted
peace to the Church ; but, added he, I beseech you,
in his name, not to refuse a poor unworthy monk the
comfort he asks for the love of Jesus Christ ; which is,
that you would offer up your prayers to him for tho
world in general, and for me, a poor sinner, in partic
ular, that the long and painful journey I have taken
through this vast wilderness may not prove uprofita-
ble to me. She replied, that it belonged rather to his
function to pray both for her and the world ; however,
us obedience was a duty incumbent on her, should
comply with his command.
Then turning towards the East, with hands and
eyes lifted up to heaven, she prayed for a long time
in silence, whilst Zosimus stood without saying a word
with his eyes cast down on the ground. But finding
that she continued very long in her prayer, he looked
up a little, and saw that she was raised a cubit from
the earth, and prayed in that manner suspended in the
air, for the truth of which he afterwards called God to
witness. This sight filled his soul with so much sur
prise and apprehension, that he cast himself upon the
ground bathed in a sweat, crying out, Lord have mercy
upon me. His amazement was succeeded by a thought,
that perhaps all he had seen might be an illusion, and
ST. MARY OP EGYPT. 399
that this appearance of a woman might be some evil
spirit that only pretended to pray. In the mean time
she turned towards him, and answering this thought
which he had conceived of her, she assured him she
was no spirit, but a poor sinful woman, composed of
Mesh and blood, dirt and corruption, adding that she
had been baptized and was a Christian ; in testimony
whereof, making the sign of the cross upon her fore
head, her eyes, her lips, and her stomach, she said,
" God deliver us, father, from the evil spirit, and from
all his snares and suggestions ; for we know that he
bears us an implacable hatred."
Hereupon Zosimus entreated her to tell him whc
she was, whence she came, when, and why she re
tired into this desert; and, in a word, all that con
cerned her life since she came thither, as well for the
glory of God as for his instruction and edification, not
doubting, as he told her, but that God had brought
him into that desert, and enabled him, notwithstand
ing his great age and weakness, to make so long a
journey in so short a space of time, with no other de
sign than that the wonders which his divine grace had
wrought in her might be made manifest to the greater
glory of his name. He added, that she need not ap
prehend any vain-glory in the recital of her life, since
her motive would be no other than the glory of God
and the comfort and instruction of a poor sinner
She answered, that with respect to her life, there was
400 ST. MART OF EOTPT.
indeed no room for her taking any vanity in the relat
ing the history of it, since she had been a vessel of
election, not of God, but of the devil; that she was
even ready to die with shame and confusion to think
of declaring all her infamous crimes, and that she ap-
l/ivhended he would fly from her as from a serpent
when he began to hear her history. However, she
was resolved to be quite sincere with him, and to
declare the particulars of her infamous life, in hopes
that he wo"ld never cease to pray to God that she
might find mercy at the last day.
Here she began to relate the history of her life, say
ing, that she was a native of Egypt, and had run away
from her parents when she was but twelve years old,
and went to Alexandria, where, falling into bad CODI-
pany, she quickly lost her honor, and afterwards aban-
Joned herself to all kinds of lewdness, as a public
prostitute, for the space of seventeen years. That at
the end of this time, seeing a great many persons flock
towards the sea-shore in order to embark for the Holy
Land, to celebrate the feast of the Exaltation of the
Cross in Jerusalem, she had impudently thrust herself
into their company ; and both during the voyage and
after her arrival at Jerusalem had made herself the
devil s instrument, introducing many into a partner
ship in her abominations. That when the day of the
feast was come, she attempted to enter with the rest
of the faithful into the church of the Holy Cross, but
ST. MART OF EGYPT. 401
was repulsed by an invisible power ; and though slw
saw all the people about her go in with ease, and had
striven on her part with all her might to enter in along
with them, yet she could never advance further than
the threshold, but always found herself still thrust
back again into the portico. " This happening to me,"
said she, "three or four times, I began to consider
what might be the reason that I was thus debarred
the sight of the life-giving wood of the holy cross,
when a salutary thought striking my mind, and open
ing the eyes of my soul, I concluded that it was the
filthiness of my life that prevented me from entering
the temple of God. Then bathed in tears and in the
utmost consternation of mind, I knocked my breast,
and sighing ready to break my heart, I cried, lament
ed and mourned at my wretched condition, till at
length perceiving over my head in the place where I
stood the image of the holy mother of God, I imme
diately addressed myself to her, and with my eyes
steadfastly fixed on her picture, I said, O sacred virgin,
who hast brought forth God according to the flesh, I
acknowledge myself unworthy to venerate or even to
look at thy image with eyes so much denied by vn
cleanness as mine have been. As thou art a pure un
spotted virgin both in soul and body, it is but just that
thy incomparable beauty should abominate, and drive
away from thee so filthy a creature as I am : never
theless, having been taught that the God whom thou
402 ST. MARY OF EGYPT.
wast worthy to bring forth was made man, in order in
call sinners to repentance, I beseech thee to assist me,
who am here left alone destitute of all assistance. O
receive the confession I here make of my sins, and per
mit me to enter into the church, that I may not be so
unhappy as to be deprived of the sight of that pre
cious wood to which that God-man was fastened, who
was born of thee, without any prejudice to thy virgini
ty, and on which he spilt his blood for my redemption.
Ordain, blessed Lady, that the door may be open
unto me, though most unworthy, that [ may" salute
that divine cross ; and be thou responsible to Christ
thy Son, that I shall never more defile myself with any
of my former detestable uncleannesses, whilst I, for my
part, as soon as I shall have seen the tree on which
thy son vouchsafed to die, promise absolutely to re
nounce the world with all its wicked ways, and to de
part immediately to the place to which thou, my sure
ty and my guide, shall be pleased to conduct me."
So far her prayer to the blessed Virgin.
Then proceeding to her narrative, she declared that
after having made this prayer and promise, on attempt
ing again to enter into the church she found no man
ner of obstacle, but went in with the utmost ease, and
penetrated, notwithstanding the great crowd, as far as
the sanctuary, and there had the happiness not only
to ses and venerate the precious and life-giving wood,
consecrate! with the blood of our Redeemer, but also
ST. MARY OF EGYPT. 403
..to be sensibly affected with the experience she now felt
of the inconceivable excess of God s mercy in his read
iness to forgive penitent sinners. Full of these senti
ments she prostrated herself upon the ground, and
having kissed the sacred pavement of the sanctuary,
ehe then ran out to the place where she had made her
solemn promise to the blessed Virgin, where kneeling
down before her image, after giving thanks for the
goodness and charity she had already experienced, she
offered herself ready to fulfill the promise she had
made" and begged of our blessed Lady to direct her
now to the place to which she would have her to go to
do penance for her sins. Upon which she heard a
voice as of one crying out at a distance : Go beyond
the Jordan, and there thou shalt find rest. Conceiv
ing these words addressed to herself, and begging of
our blessed Lady not to forsake her, she arose in haste
to follow this call. As she was going she met with a
stranger, who gave her three pieces of money, with
which she immediately went and bought three loaves ;
and having inquired of the baker the way that led to
the river Jordan, she set forward immediately without
stopping, till she arrived at the church of St. John the
Baptist upon the banks of the river. Here she per
formed her devotions, and received the blessed sacra
ment ; eating during her short stay there the half of
cue of her loaves, drinking of the water of the river<
and using no other bed but the bare ground. On the
404 8T. MARY OB EGYPT.
morning after her communion she passed over to the
other side of the river : " and then," continued she,
" having again prayed to the blessed Virgin, my guide,
to conduct, me to whatever place she pleased, I came
into this desert, and from that time to this day, which
I compute to be seven and forty years, I have, accord
ing to the psalmist, gene far off flying away from
all company, and I abode in the wilderness, Ps. 54,
looking for the mercy of my God, who saves both lit
tle and great who are converted to him."
Zosimus then inquired what she had lived upon all
that time ? She answered, that the two loaves and a
half which she had brought with her were for a long
time her only food, though they soon grew as hard as
stones, so that she could eat but very little of them at
a time, and that after they were consumed she lived
upon what few herbs she could find in the desert.
That as for clothes, those which she had brought over
with her being quite worn out, she had been without
any for the greatest part of the time, and had labored
under inexpressible difficulties for the want of them,
being broiled with excessive heat in the summer, and
Buffering the extremity of cold in the winter ; but that
under all these hardships and necessities, together with a
multitude and variety of temptations which she had to
struggle with, she continued to experience to that very
day the power and the goodness of God in the various
vs whereby he had still preserved her poor soul and
ST. MARY OF EGO T. 408
body. So that when she called to mind from how
many evils the Lord had delivered her, she felt herself
nourished and supported with a never-failing food, and
found a banquet which satisfied her whole appetite IP
the hopes she entertained of her eternal salvation.
Zosimus desiring also to learn more particulars from
her with relation to the conflicts she must have sus
tained, more especially upon her first entering on this
new kind of life, she acknowledged that for the first
seventeen years she was in a manner under perpetual
temptations; that she suffered much from hunger
and thirst, and was frequently attacked with vehement
desires of returning to partake of the flesh-pots of
Egypt ; that she longed for wine which she formerly
loved and drank to excess, whereas now she could not
even come at a drop of water; that the lascivious
songs she had formerly been accustomed to sing wero
often recurring to her mind, and other impure sugges
tions disturbing her soul and violently moving her to
lust ; but that upon perceiving any of these assaults,
it was her custom to strike her breast, shed many tears,
and remembering the solemn engagement she had
made before she came into the wilderness, to place
herself in spirit before the image of the blessed Virgin,
horn s.ie had desired to be her surety, and ceased
not to weep and lament, and to beg of her protectress
to drive away from her those wicked thoughts which
troubled her poor soul, till after long and earnest
406 ST. MARY OF EGYPT.
prayer, accompanied with floods of tears, and with the
bruising of her body with blows, she used to perceive
a light to shine round about her, and a heavenly calm
restored to her soul. "Thus," continued she, "I had
always the eyes of my heart lifted up without ceasing
to her that was my surety, beseeching her to stand l>y
me in my solitude and penance ; and I always expe
rienced the help and assistance of her who brought
forth the Author of all purity, and so I passed safely
through the many conflicts and dangers of those sev
enteen years ; and from that time till now, the blessed
mother of God has never forsaken me, but always,
and in all things, has assisted and directed me."
Zosimus hearkened with great attention to all that
she said, and taking notice that she had in her relation
of her life made use of passages taken out of the psalms
and other parts of the scripture, he asked her if she had
ever learnt the psalms, or read any part of the holy
scripture ? She told him she could not read, nor had
even so much as ever heard any person read or sing the
psalms, or ever seen either man or beast from her com
ing into the desert till that day. " But," said she, " the
Word of God, which is living and effectual, interiorly
teaches the understanding of man ; wherefore, as you
havs now heard all that relates to me, I conjure you
by the incarnation of the Eternal Word, to pray for
oie, who, as you see, have been so vile a sinner."
When she had finished her narrative, Zosimus cast
ST. MARY OP EGYPT. 407
himself on his kness, and with a loud voice magnified
the Lord for the wonders of his goodness and mercy
to those who fear and seek him ; whilst she, on her
part, begged of him, for the sake of our Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ, not to speak of the things sho
had related to him to any one living, till God should
deliver her out of the prison of the body : and, said
she, " about this time twelvemonth, by God s grace,
you shall again see me ; I beg of you therefore, for
our Lord s sake, that when the holy time of Lent shall
return next year, you would not come over the Jor
dan, according to the custom of your monastery, but
remain at home during that time (but indeed you
shall not be able to go out, if you would) and on the
most sacred evening of our Lord s last supper, bring
out for me, in a holy vessel worthy of so great a mys
tery, the divine body and life-giving blood of our
Saviour, and wait for me on that side of the river
which you inhabit, and I shall come and receive those
precious gifts that are the life of the soul, at the very
hour in which our Lord imparted that divine supper
to his disciples." Having said this, and once more
begged the holy father to pray for her, she hastened
away into the remoter parts of the wilderness : whilst
Zosimus, after casting himself down upon the ground,
and kissing the earth upon which she had stood, re
turned through the desert the same way he came, and
arrived in due time at the monastery.
408 ST MARY OF EGYPT.
During the following year he kept all that he had
Keen and heard a secret to himself, longing for the re
turn of Lent, that, he might be once more blessed
with the sight and conversation of one whom he just
ly Ikeld in the highest veneraticn. But when the
holy fast of Lent was come, he was visited with a
fever, which as the Saint had foretold, was attended
by no other consequence than that of preventing him
from going abroad into the desert with the rest of tho
brethren ; wherefore, on Maunday-Thursday evening
in compliance with her desire, he carried out the body
and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ in a small pix or
chalice, to the bank of the river, and there waited,
looking attentively towards the desert, in expectation
of what he had so great a desire of seeing, but not
without some apprehension, as it was a long time be
fore she came, that slio might have been there already,
and not finding him had returned back again. Another
perplexing thought also occurred to his mind, viz.
how in case of her coming, she should be able to pass
over the river to him, as there was neither bridge nor
boat near that place. Whilst the holy old man was
revolvh. these difficulties in his mind, he discovered
the Saint on the opposite bank of the Jordan, by the
light of the moon, which was then at the full, and
saw her making the sign of the cross upoc the river,
and presently after walking towards him upon the
water, as if it had been firm ground, with which sight
ST. MARY OF EGYfT. 409
he was so much astonished, that he was going to cast
himself upon his knees, had she not stopped him by
crying out " Father, what are you about ? Recol
lect you are a priest of God, and that you carry with
fou the divine mysteries."
Having now passed over the river, she craved hir
blessing, and after desiring him to recite the creed and
the Lord s prayer, she received the blessed sacrament
from his hands ; after which, lifting up her hands to
heaven, sighing and weeping, she cried out : Now
dost thou dismiss thy servant, Lord, according to
thy word, in peace j because my eyes have seen thy sal
vation. Then turning to Zosimus, she begged pardon
for the trouble she had given him, and requested ho.
would for the present return to the monastery, but on
the following Lent he would not fail to come to the
place where she had first spoken to him, and that
there he should see her again in the manner God
should be pleased to ordain. The good old man de
sired her to eat something, having brought a basket of
figs and dates, with some lentiles steeped in water,
with him for that purpose. She took a few grains of
the lentiles, saying she had no occasion for any more ;
for that the 1 grace of the spirit was sufficient to pre
serve the soul in its purity. Then begging of him
again for God s sake to pray for her, and never to for
get her miseries, whilst he, on his part, recommended
himself and the whole church to her prayers, she took
SA
410 6T. MARY OF EGYPT.
leave of him, and making the sign of the cross upon
the river, crossed it again in the same manner as she
came to him, walking upon the waters.
The next year Zosirnus going out in Lent, i<xordiu
to the custom of the monastery, into the desert, made
the best of his way towards the place where hs had
first seen the Saint, in hopes of being still more edified
by her si^ht and heavenly conversation, and of learn
ing also her name, which he regretted not having in
quired after when he last saw her. After a long and
painful journey, when he arrived at the dry torrent,
he found in the higher part of that concavity the dead
body of the Saint extended decently on the ground,
with her hands crossed, and her face turned towards
the east. Hereupon he fell down at the feet of the
holy corpse, which he washed with his tears, and then
began to sing the psalms and recite the prayers for
the burial of the dead, when behold he perceived on
the ground these words written in the sand : " Father
Zosimus, bury the body of poor Mary ; render to tlu j
earth what belongs to the earth ; and in the name of
God pray for me on the ninth day of April, the day
cf the passion of our Lord, after the communion of the
divine supper." * The old man, reading these words,
could not conceive by whom they were wrote, as the
* The anniversary of her happy death, viz. the day immedi
ately following that on which Zosimus had, the year before,
administered to her tht blessed e acharist.
6T. MARY OF EGYPT. 411
Saint bad assured him she could neither read nor
write. He was however not only pleased to have
found out her name, but also astonished to think how
quickly she had been brought back in the space o
one night after receiving the holy communion, over
as large a tract of ground as had taken him twenty
days travelling without ceasing. Hence it appears
that after her return her blessed soul had left her body,
and taken its flight to heaven.
But now his greatest solicitude was how he should
contrive to bury her body, as he had no proper instru
ment to open the earth, or dig a grave. But he was
not long under this perplexity before he perceived a
great lion standing by the body of the Saint, and lick
ing her feet. To recover himself from the terror ex
cited by the sight of so tremendous an animal, he
made the sign of the cross, trusting that God and her
holy body would protect him from all dangers, when
behold he found the lion began to fawn upon him, as
if he proffered him his service ! So that being con
vinced that God had sent the beast to make a grave
lor his servant, he commanded him in the name of
<tod to set about that work with his claws. The lion
obeyed, and presently made a sufficient grave, in which
/osiinus interred the body of the Saint, covering it
only with the mantle she had received of him, and
with many tears, having recommended both hinisel
and the whole world to her prayers, he departed prais-
412 ST. JEROME.
ing God. whilst the lion, like a, tame lamb, went his
way into the remoter parts of the desert. Zosimas,
at his return home, related to his brethren the whole
history of the life of the Saint from the beginning, to
their great edincation, concealing no part of what he
had seen or heard. After which he still continued
serving and glorifying God in that monastery, till he
was a hundred years old, with such perfection as to be
enrolled after his death amongst the Saints. Hu
name occurs in the Roman Martyrology on the fourth
of April, and that of St. Mary of Egypt on the second
of the same month.
ST. JEROME.
WE are about to record the monastic life of St.
Jerome without entering into the detail of his other
works, which might be foreign to our subject. Not
withstanding that he is one of the greatest doctors of
the Church, we shall here consider him only as a Soli
tary, lie was born at Stridon, in Dalmatia, about
the year 329, but he made his principal studies in
Rome, under the famous Donatus, the grammarian.
After having been baptized, he travelled into France,
utopped some time at Treves, and came to Aquilea in
8T JEROME. 413
Gaui, where ho made the acquaintance of St. Vale
rian, bishop of that city, together with many other
excellent persons.
His extreme love for study had been strikingly man
ifested in Rome by the progress he made, and it was
with a view to perfect himself still more that he jour-
nied into Gaul. His great application had not only
served to enrich his mind with an extensive knowledge
of literature, but it had also been the means of keep
ing him aloof from those occasions of sin, wherein
young persons are so often ruined. Thus, since he
had received baptism, God had given him the grace
to lead a life of great abstinence, and to sanctify his
studies by virtue. One of his usual practices of piety
was to go every Sunday, while in Rome, with his
young companions, to visit the relics of the saints in
the catacombs of that city.
Before he left Aquilea, he had been some time de
liberating as to what place he should select for his
future abode, in order to retire from the world, and
apply himself peacefully to ftudy. There was no such
resting-place for him in his own country, for there he
would be incessantly importuned by friends and ac
quaintances who were of a different way of thinking.
In Rome he was too well known, so he resolved to
make a journey to the East, and there establish him
self. Evagrus, Innocent, and Heliodorus followed him
thither, and he took nothing with him except hii
414 ST. JEROME.
books, of which he had already chosen a large num
ber. After journeying through Thrace, Pontus, Bithy-
nia, Galatia, Cappadocia, and Cilicia, remaining some
.ime at Tarsus, the birth-place of St. Paul, he came to
Antioch, and retired to the desert of Chalcis, on the
Confines of Syria and Arabia, where he embraced the
monastic life.
He had there for companions Innocent, Heliodorus
and Ilylas. The priest Evagrus had remained at
Antioch, whence he transmitted to Jerome the letters
which arrived there for him. In order that he might
succeed in his new mode of life, he commended him
self to the prayers of St. Theodosia and some other
solitary saints of Syria, whom he had seen in passing,
while meditating his retreat. "I should like," said
he, " to be now with you, and, however unworthy I
miy be of seeing you, I should be rejoiced to embrace
all your holy community. I should see a solitude
more agreeable than all the cities of the world, and
deserts inhabited, like the terrestrial paradise, by a
multitude of saints. But since such a sinner as my
self is unworthy to live in your company, I conjure
you, at least (and I am sure you can obtain that favor
for me), to beg of God that I may be delivered from
the darkness of this world. I have already told you
by word of mouth, and I now tell you again, that
there is nothing which I so ardently desire as to be
freed from the slavery of the world ... It seems to
ST. JEROME. 415
me as though I were surrounded by a vast ocean, so
that I am unable either to advance or recede. It is,
therefore, from your prayers that I expect the favoring
breeze of the Holy Spirit, whereby I may continue
my course and happily arrive at my destination."
The desert of Chalcis was, then, the port whither
he retired ; but after having enjoyed there for some
time the calm repose of solitude, the Lord, who
wished to prove and to sanctify him by tribulation,
began to tincture with bitterness the sweets of his
repose. Death deprived him of Innocent and Hylas,
and his beloved Heliodorus left him to return to
Italy. These painful separations, which grievously
afflicted his heart, were followed by various maladies,
and finally, in the intervals of his sufferings, he was
tormented by violent temptations, arising from the
remembrance of the pleasures of Rome, and these kept
recurring to his mind in their most vivid coloring.
This he explains to the virgin EustoquiaTih his excel
lent letter to her on virginity, which made no small
noise in Rome on its first appearance there.
" During the time," says he, " that I remained in
the desert and dwelt in that immense solitude, which,
scorched by the fervid heat of the sun, offers nought
but a dreary waste to the solitaries who make it their
bode, how often have I fancied myself in the midst
of t.he delights of Rome. Seated as I was, alone in
the depth of my cave, plunged in an ocean of bitter-
416 ST. JEROME.
ness, clothed in a coarse linen garment, the very sight
of which was revolting to nature, with my body all dis
figured and my skin blackened, till it resembled that
of an Ethiopian, my only occupation was to pass whole
days and nights in tears and lamentations. Was I
overpowered by sleep and forced, whether I would or
not, to yield, I flung on the naked ground a body
which was no more than a living skeleton. I say nothing
of my nourishment, for, in the desert, even the sick
drink only water, and it is there considered delicacy
and sensuality to eat anything cooked. Shut up there
in this species of prison, to which I had voluntarily
condemned myself in order to escape the fire of hell,
and having no other company than scorpions and fe
rocious animals, I nevertheless failed not to imagine
myself at times amongst the Roman ladies : beneath
an exterior spoiled and defaced by a continual fast, I
carried a heart torn and tormented by evil desires ;
within a body of icy coldness and flesh already dead,
in anticipation of its final destruction, concupiscence
kept up an inextinguishable fire.
" Seeing myself, therefore, without support and
without resource, I cast myself at the feet of Jesus
Christ, watering them with my tears, and drying them
with my hair ; passing entire weeks without eating, in
order to subdue my rebellious flesh and make it obe
dient to the spirit. I have often passed whole days
and nights in crying and striking my breast, till the
ST. JEROME. 41 Y
Lord, dispelling the storm, restored peace to my heart.
I feared to enter my cell because it had seen so many
wicked thoughts spring up. Animated with just
anger against myself, and treating my body with the
utmost severity, I plunged alone into the desert ; and
if I found a deep valley, a lofty mountain, or a steep
rock, I instantly made it a place of prayer, and, as it
we re, a prison wherein I chained my miserable flesh.
There, bathed in my tears, and with my eyes inces
santly raised to heaven, I sometimes fancied myself in
the company of angels, and sang in the transports of
my joy : We will run after thee to the odor of thy
ointments" Cant. 1.
With a view to get rid of these harassing thoughts,
he added to his labors the study of the Hebrew lan
guage. Accustomed, however, to the "eading of Cic
ero and the best Latin authors, he could not, without
repugnance apply himself to the study of alphabets
and grammatical trifles ; so that, tired of the under
taking, he left it off and resumed it at intervals, refresh
ing himself in the meantime with that polite literature
which he had never given up, notwithstanding the
rigor of his penance. But God, who intended him
for one of the most profound interpreters of Scripture
for the use of his Church, sent him a violent fever,
in the course of which he had a vision which made
known to him how displeasing to Him was that tasts
for profane authors, and the rigorous account \v Inch he
418 ST. JEROME.
should one day have to render if he continued to
pursue it with an ardor so unsuited to his solitary life.
He thus relates it in the letter to Eustoquia before-
mentioned : So great was my misery and the excess of
my passion, that after having quitted all to serve God
and gain the way to heaven, I brought with me the
books which I had collected at Rome with much caro
and trouble, and which I could not bring myself to
Design. I fasted, yet I read Cicero ; and after long and
frequent vigils, after shedding torrents of tears, which
gushed from the depth of my heart at the remem
brance of my past sins, I set myself to read Plato ;
and when, entering into myself, I set about reading
the prophets, I was at once repelled by their harsh,
unpolished style. Blind as I was, and unable to see
the light, I betook myself to the sun instead of ac
knowledging my blindness.
" Thus seduced and deceived by the artifices of the
old serpent, I had, about the middle of Lent, a fever,
which, penetrating to the marrow of my body, al
ready worn out by continual austerities, withered me
away until I was literally skin and bone. As ray
body was already cold, and I had but a feeble spark
of life which the natural warmth still kept up, prepa
rations for my burial were already going on, when all
ot a sudden, in an ecstasy of the mind, I felt myself
dragged before a tribunal. Dazzled by the splendoi
ST. JEROME. 419
of all around, 1 cast myself prostrate on the ground,
not daring to raise my eyes.
" Being asked by the judge what was my profes
sion, I replied that I was a Christian. It is false, 1
said he, thou art not a Christian, but a Ciceronian :
for where thy treasure is, there also is thy heart. 1
answered never a word, and, feeling myself more tor
mented by the remorse of my conscience than by the
blows which they gave me, (for He had condemned
me to the lash) I thought of that saying of the
Psalmist : TFTio, Lord, will give thce thanks in
hell ? Psalm 6. I groaned and cried aloud : Have
mercy on me, O Lord, have mercy on me, Psalm 56.
This prayer and the voice of my lamentation were
incessantly heard amid the whizzing of the lash. A:
last, some who were present threw themselves at the
feet of the judge, entreating him to take pity on my
youth and to give me time to do penance for my fault,
on condition that I was to be still more rio-orouslv
O
punished in future, if I ever again should read profane
authors.
" As for myself, who, at such a crisis, would have
willingly promised an hundred times more, I be-
o-an to assure him with the most solemn oaths, and
taking himself to witness : Lord, if I ever again read,
cr look at, profane books, I consent to be considered
as having denied thee." Upon this, they let me
go; I returned to the world, and to the great aur-
420 ST. JEROME.
prise of those who stood around my bed, I suddenly
opened my eyes, shedding such a torrent of tears, that
even the most incredulous were convinced of the pain
I suffered ; for this was not merely a vision, or a dream,
but a dread reality; bear witness the terrible tribunal
before which I had been prostrated, and the vigorous
judgment which had struck terror to my soul. Even
after I awoke, I continued to feel the pain of the blows
I had received, and my shoulders were all covered
with bruises. The consequence was that, ever after, \
was as passionately fond of the study of sacred books
as I had before been of profane authors.
Much might be said on this subject ; for, while the
study of Cicero is preferred to that of the Gospel, it
shows that there is less love for God s truth than for the
frivolous words of man. This instance is not the only
one whereby we learn that a taste for reading profane
authors is very reprehensible in those who make
profession of a religious life. Many others of the Holy
Fathers have condemned it as well as St. Jerome ; and
if some of the saints have made a practice of it, it was
not from any preference for such reading, but solely
for the interest of religion, as David employed the
sword of Goliath to cut off his head.
St. Jerome remained but four years in the desert oi
Chalcis. The schism which had broken out at Antiock
in the affair of St. Paulinus and St. Mele, together
with the persecution of some envious persons who
ST. JEROME. 421
went so far as to accuse him of error in the doctrine
Df the Trinit/, forced him to retire to the neighborhood
of Jerusalem, and to fly from one solitude to another.
He then stopped at Bethlehem, which place he found
more to his liking, so that he finally took up his abode
there. He was, however, obliged to return once more
to Antioch, where he was ordained priest by St.
Paulinos ; this dignity he only accepted on condition
*.hat he was not to be appointed to any church, nor
compelled to abandon his profession of monk. Ho
afterwards went to Constantinople, to see St. Gregory
Nazianzen, under whom, as he himself testifies, he
studied the Holy Scriptures and learned the best
method of explaining them. St. Gregory having
quitted the imperial city, our saint returned to Jerusa
lem ; he then proceeded to Rome in company with St.
Paulinus and St. Epiphanius, Pope Damasus having
convoked a council. That holy pontiff kept St. Jerome
at Rome after St. Paulinus and St. Epiphanius had
returned home, for the purpose of having him at hand
to write letters, and reply to the different consultations
of the churches.
In the midst of these important affairs St. Jerome
continued to lead the life of a perfect monk, so that
he gained the admiration of all persons distinguished
by their rank or piety. His reputation had arrived
long before himself in that capital of the Christian
world, and his presence more than justified the praises
36
422 ST. JEROME.
lavished upon him. The sanctity of his morals, his
profound humilty, his austere life, all these, taken con
jointly with his resistless eloquence and his intimate
knowledge of the Sacred Scriptures, won for him the
esteem and the veneration of all who could appreciate
real merit. He availed himself of this ascendency, in
order to induce several persons of distinction to embrace
a religious life. He had also for pupils, in sacred
literature, St. Paula and many other Roman ladies,
who became, under his direction, models of sanctity.
But whilst his name was in such high repute, that
he was never mentioned in Rome, or even in the prov
inces, without respect and veneration, there arose against
him, little by little, a persecution which proceeded
from the envy of certain ecclesiastics, whose disorderly
lives were condemned by the purity and regularity of
his. This, coupled with his love of solitude, induced
him, after the death of St. Damasus, to return to
Palestine with his brother Paulinian, (his junior by
thirty years) and they arrived there in the depth of
winter. St. Jerome set out once more, in the Spring,
to visit the holy solitaries of Egypt. In Alexandria he
saw, amongst others, the famous Didymus. Returning,
at length, to Palestine, he fixed himself permanently
at Bethlehem. St. Paula, accompanied by her
daughter Eustoquia, had already taken up her abode
there. Slu built two large monasteries, one for men
(whither St. Jerome retired), and the other for person!
ST. JEROME. 423
of her own sex. Our saint had the sole direction of
both. We shall not here enter upon the detail of his
occupations ; it is sufficient to say in general that his
time was divided between acts of charity and the
works which he composed for the service of the Church ;
these last may be truly styled immense labors, whether
considered as commentaries on the Sacred Scriptures,
as controversial works, written in refutation of the
various heresies of the time, or as apologies for himself
in the persecutions raised up against him on different
occasions by the heretics. Yet through all his ardu
ous labors he never relaxed ought in his austerities.
He lived always in monastic penance, and the vigor
of his mind, which he preserved unimpaired, made up
for the weakness of his body, exhausted by mortifica
tion, and advancing age.
Piety attracted from all parts of the world a vast
number of pilgrims to the Holy Land, and these were
chiefly monks. This was particularly the case after
the capture of Rome by the Goths, as many persons
then fled to Palestine for safety. This unusual con
course of strangers obliged St. Jerome to enlarge hia
monastery, so as to receive a greater number of people.
He sent his brother Paulinian with a friend to sell
what remained to him of his patrimonial inheritance,
in order to raise funds for the purpose. He thus auded
hospitality to his other works, and, the duties of charity
engrossing the greater portion of his time, he had onlj
424 ST. JEROME.
the night for his studies ; which gave him anothef
opportunity of doing penance To this may be added
the functions wherewith he \\AS charged for the service
of the Church in Bethlehem for Posthumian, who came
from Gaul to visit the Holy Land, and who remained
iix months with him, says that he governed the church
of Bethlehem, which shows that he must have exer
cised ecclesiastical authority.
A t length St Jerome, the illustrious doctor of the
church, as he is justly styled in the prayer of his office
the glory and ornament of the monastic state, died
at Bethlehem, worn out, as much by the rigor of his
penance and his many labors, as by the number of his
years. His death threw the entire church into mourn
ing, and her sorrow was only assuaged by the possession
of the invaluable works he had bequeathed to her.
Authors are divided on the duration of his life : St.
Prosper gives him ninety-one years, others still more,
and others less. This diversity of opinion leaves it
difficult to decide.
Besides what this holy doctor has written for the
Church in general, he also labored in private with
uncommon zeal for persons engaged in the monastic
state and for Christian virgins. In his lives of St.
Paul, the first hermit, St. Hilarion, and several holl
persons of the other sex, he has left us perfect models
of religious perfection. The history of St. Malchiw
also contains much valuable instruction. He trans-
ST. JEROME. 425
lated into Latin the rules of St. 1 acome, of St. Theo
dore and of Orsise, for the use of those Latin monks
who dwelt in the Theban deserts, in Egypt, and espe
cially in the monastery of Metanea, who knew neither
the Greek nor Egyptian language. This translation,
which the priest Leontius with some others of the
brethren had come to ask for, in the name of their
community, served also for the monks of Syria, and
the nuns of St. Paula s monastery. St. Paula had
died before the translation was undertaken, but St.
Eustoquia was still living.
Heliodorus had, as we have said, accompanied our
saint from Rome to Palestine, but he having returned
home, St. Jerome addressed him in a letter, showing
with much force and eloquence the advantages of a
solitary life, and the fidelity with which it should be
always followed, when once embraced. He com
mences with reproaches, springing from friendship
rather than from zeal ; and then he goes on entreat
ing him to give up his native land and return to his
desert : " Effeminate soldier ! what dost thou in the
house of thy father ? What defences ail thou casting
up against the attack of the enemy ? What winters
dost thou pass there under tents? Remember the
day when thou wert enrolled by Baptism in the army
of Jesus Christ ; thou didst then swear to be faithful
to him, and to give up even thy father or thy mothei
when his service requires it.
426 ST. JEROMlS.
" The devil is already at work, trying to stifle Jesu*
Christ in thy heart, and the enemies of thy salvation
are. grieved to see thee in possession of the pledge
which was given thee when thou didst enter into hia
service. Let friends and relatives do their utmost to
retain thee, fix thine eye on the standard of the cross,
and follow it steadily I am not unfeeling ; I
have not a heart incapable of being touched ; I have
passed, like thyself, through all these trials. But
when we truly love God and fear the pains of hell,
we have no hesitation in breaking these chains. Thou
wilt perhaps tell me : Is it then impossible to remain
in a city without ceasing to be a Christian? You,
my brother, stand not on the same footing as others.
Hear what the Son of God says : If thou wouldst be
perfect, go sell what you possess, and give it to the
poor, then come and follow me, Matt. xix. You have
made a vow to seek perfection, for, when you aban
doned the world you engaged yourself, at the same
time, to a perfect life. Then a true servant of Christ
ought to have no other possession than Jesus Christ
himself, for, if he possess aught besides, he ceases to
be perfect
"You will not fail to answer me that you no longer
possess anything; but if that be so, why not fight,
since that universal detachment fits you so well for the
combat ? Perhaps you imagine that you can acquit
rourself of all these duties in your own country
ST. JEROME. 42
But do you not know that the Saviour of the \vorld
performed no miracles at home: Thence you must
conclude that the solitary who never leaves his native
land cannot attain perfection in his state.
" When I have driven you from this entrenchment,
you will, I know, bring forward against me the exam
ple of the ecclesiastics ; and, as they dwell in cities,
you should like to know whether I would condemn
*,hem for so doing : God forbid that I should speak ill
of those who hold in the Church the place of the
Apostles If your brethren urge you to take
priestly orders, I shall rejoice at your elevation, but I
shall also fear lest you fall .... Put yourself, there
fore, my dear brother, in the lowest place, to the end
that you may not be removed to a lower seat when
any more distinguished guest arrives, Luke xiv. If
an anchoret fall, the priest will pray for him ; but
who will pray for the priest if he himself chance to
fall?
" desert ever enamelled with the flowers of Jesus
Christ ! solitude whence are taken the stones to
build the city of the Great King, mentioned by St.
John in his Apocalypse ! desert where men are
enabled to converse more familiarly with God ! What
dost thou, then, in the world, my brother, seeing that
thou art greater than the world? How long wilt
thou remain under the shade of houses ? How long
wilt thou shut thyself up in cities which are ever cov-
428 ST. JEROME
ered by a black cloud of smoke ? Believe me, that
here it seems like a new day. Freed as I am from
the overwhelming care of my body, I take delight in
soaring higher and higher into a purer and more se
rene atmosphere.
" What is it that you fear in solitude : is it pover
ty ? Jesus Christ says that the poor are blessed : is
it labor? The athletes are only crowned when they
have fought and conquered. Is it anxiety about your
food ? Faith dreads not hunger. Do you shrink
from sleeping on the bare ground and thus macerating
your body, already enfeebled by long fasts? The
Lord will repose there with you. Could you not
endure to have your hair shaggy and your face neg
lected? The Apostle St. Paul tells us that Jesus
Christ is the head of man. 1 Cor. xi. Do you dread
the vast extent of a boundless solitude? You can
imagine yourself in paradise, and your thoughts once
raised to Heaven, the desert will be nothing to you.
Are you afraid lest, for want of the bath, your skin
may wrinkle and become rough ? When once you
have been washed in Jesus Christ, you have no fur
ther need of washing. In a word, hearken to what
St. Paul says of all these objections : The sufferings,
cf the present life bear no proportion to the glory
which shall one day be revealed to us. Rom. viii.
St. Panlinus, having given his immense wealth to
the poor, and embraced voluntary poverty, applied to
8T. JEROME. 429
St. Jerome for rules whereby to regulate his new state.
The saint, who had exhorted him, in another letter,
to breakaway entirely from the world and devote him
self wholly to God, now told him at once that no man
merits praise for having been to Jerusalem, where ho
desired to go and Avished to remain, but only for
having lived well there ; that each of the faithful is to
be judged, not by the place of his abode, but by the
value of his faith ; that Heaven is equally open to the
citizens of Jerusalem and the inhabitants of Great
Britain, because that the kingdom of God, as Jesus
Christ says, is within us, Luke, xvii ; that St. Antho
ny and a multitude of the solitaries of Egypt, of
Mesopotamia, of Pontus, of Cappadocia, and of Ar
menia, had gone to heaven without ever having seen
Jerusalem ; and that St. Hilarion, born in Palestine,
went there but once, and then remained but a single
day. " You may, therefore," continues he, " without
hurting your faith, dispense with seeing the city of
Jerusalem. . . . But, after having withdrawn yourself,
by the state that you have chosen, from the crowds
and tumult of the city, your study should be to live
in the country, to seek Jesus Christ in retreat, to pray
with him on the mountain and to seek no other
neighborhood than that of the holy places, so as to
give up cities altogether, and remain constantly at
tached to your state. ... Let us imitate the masters
of the solitary life which we profess, that is to say, the
430 ST. JEROME.
Pauls, the Anthonies, Macarius and Hilarion ; and, if
we come to the authority of the Sacred Scriptures, le*
us take for our models Elias, Eliseus, and the children
of the prophets, who always retired in the country
and living in solitude, built themselves cabins on the
banks of the Jordan.
" Shun company avoid banquets, and all the vain
observances and affected politeness of worldlings, as so
many chains which serve but to make us the slaves of
luxury. Eat in the evening a little herbs and vegeta
bles, with a few little fish now and then by way of
dainty. When one nourishes himself with Jesus
Christ, and fixes upon him all the desires of the heart,
he is very little troubled about the quality of the food
wherewith he regales his body Be always
assiduous in the reading of the Sacred Scripture ;
apply yourself often to the exercise of prayer, prostra
ted before God ; raise your every thought to Him ; pray
often during the night, and go sometimes to bed with
out having broken your fast Be not vain of
jour mean apparel ; have no connection with people of
the world, especially the great. What necessity is
Shere that you should frequently see what you have
resigned for love of the monastic state."
St. Jerome, after having exhorted Heliodorus to
return into solitude, and drawn up for St. Paulinus
(afterwards Bishop of Nole) the rules of a true
anchoret, writes to the monk Rustique, who was a
ST. JEROME. 431
Graul a native of Marseilles. He speaks to him of
the cenobitic life, and the. conduct which he ought to
observe. He shows him at first, in the following terms,
the general duties of the monastic life : " If you would,
therefore," says he, " become a true solitary, and rot
content yourself with the bare appearance thereof, you
should attend solely to the affairs of your salvation,
and disturb yourself no more about the welfare of
your family, seeing that renouncing it was the first
step towards making you what you are. Ever mani
fest in your neglect of external appearance, the beauty
of a pure and guileless heart; and show by the
poverty of your garments how much you despise what,
the world esteems, always provided that vanity have
no part in the display, and that your words correspond
with your habit.
" Practice fasting, and never flatter the body by
the use of the bath. Be moderate, however, in youi
fasting, and use it with discretion, lest you weaken
your stomach so much that you might require to eat
more than usual, in order to restore its strength. A
little nourishment taken with moderation, is profitable
both to soul and body. . . . Whilst you remain in
your own country, regard your cell as a terrestrial
paradise. Go cull from the Holy Scriptures the
various fruits there abounding ; make them your chief
pleasure, and be always assiduous in the reading of
these divine books. Apply yourself solely to the care
432 ST. JEROME.
of your soul, and let all the rest give you little con
cern.
" As the object now is to form and instruct, in you,
a young solitary who has taken upon him the yoke
of Jesus Christ After having been trained from his
youth up in the study of polite literature, it becomes
necessary to ascertain whether it is more advantageous
ib r you to live in solitude by yourself, than to make
one in a community. For myself, I advise you to
place yourself in the company of the saints, never to
trust to your own suggestions, or enter upon unknown
regions without a safe guide I do not pretend
to condemn the solitary life, I who have so often
recommended it ; but I would have no one retire to
the desert without having first passed through the
spiritual combats of the monastery. I would have
them first give proofs of virtue and purity of heart ;
that they should only rise above others, in the excel
lence of the solitary state, after having made them
selves the lowest of all in the society of brethren ; in
short, I would that they should never suffer themselves
to be overcome by hunger, nor yet by intemperance ;
that they should delight in poverty, and that they
should present in their air, in their words, and in their
walk, an image of every virtue. . . .
" Have always some book in your hands ; learn the
Psalter by heart; pray without ceasing; watch care
fully over your sense?, , busy not yourself with vain
ST. JEROME. 433
thoughts ; let all that is within you tend to God ;
overcome by patience, the motions of anger : love the
study of the Holy Scripture ; banish from your mind
whatever might disturb its repose ; be always busy,
PO that the devil may never find you idle. If the
Apostles applied themselves to manual labor, to the
end that they might not be burthensome to others,
why should not you do the same ? Apply yourself,
therefore, to making baskets or mats, or weeding the
ground, or cultivating a garden, or making fishing-
nets, or transcribing books, to the end that ; you, may
at the same time support your body by the,,la]bor.of,
your hands, and nourish your soul by the , reading of
good books. Men who live in idleness are usually
subject to a multitude of desires. It is;an established
custom in the monasteries of Egypt to receive none
who are not able to do manual labor, and this not so
much to cater for the wants of the body as to provide
for those of the soul, and prevent the solitary from
giving way to vain and hurtful thoughts.
" Speaking of this, I will tell , you what I myself
witnessed when in Egypt. There was in a certain
monastery a young monk, of Grecian origin, who was
so grievously tempted, that the most rigorous fasts
and the most painful labors could not overcome the
temptation. His superior, , beginning to fear that he
might, at last, yield, conceived the following plan fof
effecting his release :
434 ST. JEROME.
" He ordered one of the seniors to treat him verv
harshly, and, after loading him with all manner of
nbuse, to be always the first to complain of him.
Then witnesses were brought forward who were
always sure to be on the side of the old monk, so that
the poor brother was much grieved by the calumny
heaped upon him, and because there was none to tell
the truth. It was only the superior who seemed to
have any compassion for him, and that was for fear
he mio-ht sink under the intolerable load of his afflic-
O
tion. This sham persecution went on for a whole
year, at the end of which time he was asked whether
he was still tormented by the fierce temptations which
had formerly left him no peace. " Alas !" he replied,
" how could I think evil, when I have not even a
moment to breathe ?" Had this young man been
alone, who, think you, would have helped him to
overcome his enemy ?
" I will not tire you with a longer detail," continues
St. Jerome, " 1 merely propose to show you by this,
that you ought not to be master of your own actions,
but to live in a monastery under the guidance of a
superior and in company with many others, to the
end that you may learn of the one to live in humility,
of the other to practice patience, of this to keep silence,
of the other to be mild and docile. You will not then
be at liberty to do as you please, but will be obliged
to eat as others choose, to have nought but what is
ST. JEROME. 435
given you, to wear such habits as are selected for you,
to do every day what work is required of you, to obey
persons who may be fur from agreeable to you, to He
down at night overwhelmed with fatigue, to sleep as
you walk, and to be obliged to quit your bed long
before you have slept enough.
You shall also sing psalms in your place ; and then
you must not seek to gratify the ear, but to inflame
the heart These different occupations will
shelter you from temptation, and making one labor
succeed another, you will be entirely engrossed with
what you have to do."
St. Jerome has written letters to persons of various
conditions, giving them admirable rules for sanctifying
themselves in their respective states. Bishops, eccle
siastics of every grade, married people, widows, all
find in his writings instruction and advice which, if
carried out, will enable them to attain perfection. For
instance, writing to Heliodorus, bishop of Altino, to
console him on the death of his nephew Nepotian, he
makes use of these beautiful words : " All the faith
ful have their eyes on the bishop. His household,
and his conduct are observed by all. H,e ought to
serve as an example to his whole church, and there
is no one who will not try to do a portion of what ho
does." To Nepotian, when living, he had also written
this advice to ecclesiastics : " The Greek word clerot
signifies lot and share. The name of clerks is there
436 ST. JEROME.
fore given to ecclesiastic?, either because they are
devoted to the Lord, or because the Lord is their
portion. Now he who belongs to the Lord, or who
has the Lord for his portion, ought to live as one who
possesses the Lord, and in whom the Lord abides."
We also have his epistle to the widow Furia, of tiie
ancient and illustrious house of the Camillas, regard
ing the duties of a Christian widow ; and to Leta,
how she ought to preserve her daughter, the young
Paula, in innocence, to consecrate her to the Lord.
Nothing can be wiser or more salutary than the advice
which he gives her on that subject.
Finally, St. Jerome seems to have surpassed himself,
when he wrote in favor of virginity and gave precepts
to Christian virgins. We should exceed our limits
were we to repeat all he has said on that angelic state
and its incumbent duties. Those who wish to be
instructed on the subject, may read his letters to
EustojpMJSftcfto Demetriades. It will suffice for us
to remark in general that he elevates the state of
virginity to the same rank as that of apostles and
martyrs ; that the life of a virgin is more conformable
to that of J^sus Christ, in as much as he is their chief
and the author of virginity. He advises them, above
all, to renounce the vanities of the world, to shun the
ompany of worldly-minded young women, to live in
etirement, to go out but seldom and when occasion
inquired it, to read good books, to mortify their senses^
ST. BASIL THE GREAT. 437
to love labor and shun idleness, and all useless con
versation ; to live, in short, so discreetly, as to inspire
others, by their virtue, with a love and esteem fof
chastity. Lastly, he adds these few words which
epitomise all the sanctity of a Christian virgin : " A
spouse of Jesus Christ must be like the ark of the
Covenant, all sovered with gold within and without
and be the depository of the law of God. As the ark
contained only the tables of the Testament, so ought
she to banish from her mind the idea of all exterior
and sensible things. It is on this propitiatory, as of
old on the wings of the cherubim, that the Lord will
sit."
ST. BASIL THE GREAT,
AND
ST. GREGORY OF NAZIANZEN.
THESE two illustrious saints have done so much
honor to the monastic order, that we cannot dispense
with their lives in this collection. We will not sepa
rate them here, since their connection was so close and
that they acted in such perfect harmony, giving each
in his own province such singular lustre to the monas
tic state in Syria, in Palestine, and in Egypt.
438 ST. BASIL THE GREAT.
The city of Cesarea in Cappadocia, was the birth-
place of St. Basil. His birth is generally placed some
where about the year 328. In his own family he
found nobility, riches and sanctity. He was brought
up by his maternal grandmother, St. Macrina, and
received from his father the first rudiments of polite
literature, and apparently, of rhetoric. He afterwards
went successively to Cesarea of Palestine, to Constan
tinople and to Athens, to prosecute his other studies.
It was in the last named city that he contracted an
intimate friendship with St. Gregory of Nazianzen,
who was nearly of his own age, and had the same
virtuous inclinations.
His conduct in all these different cities was worthy
of the excellent training he had received, and lie every
where manifested extraordinary talents in mastering
the higher branches of learning. In all the various
departments of science he equalled his masters, and
outstripped all his competitors. In a short time he
acquired a high reputation amongst all classes ol
people, and was everywhere distinguished for his pro
found erudition and vast attainments, which were far
in advance of his age. But he was even more admir
ed for the gravity of his manners and the staid decorum
of his life. The study of eloquence was but a secon
dary object with him, as he sought it only to make it
subservient to Christian philosophy, which requires its
assistance. His chief study was to le^rn the art ot
ST. BASIL THE GREAT. 439
cletacbing himself from the world to become united
with God ; to gain immutable and eternal treasures
by the use of those which are frail and fleeting, and
to purchase heaven at the expense of all terrestrial
things. He continued this same mode of life in Con
stantinople, where he studied under the famous Liba-
nius, who respected him then, young as he was, for
the purity of his morals, and was charmed with his
wondrous eloquence. Divine Providence and his
laudable thirst for the sciences afterwards conducted
him to Athens.
St. Gregory of Nazianzen, whom he had known at
Oesarea, had arrived there before him. This saint was
born about the year 329, in the town of Arianzen, in
the territory of Nazianzen, from which cause it is that
that city is regarded as his birth-place. His father
was Gregory, subsequently bishop of the same city,
and his mother was the blessed Nonna, both recognized
as saints, together with St. Cesaire his brother, and his
Bister St. Gorgonia. His mother obtained this favor
from God by the fervor of her prayers, and his child
hood passed away in that happy innocence, which
was nourished and preserved by the piety of his pa
rents. From his earliest years he gave tokens of a
maturity of thought far beyond his age, and giving a
lair promise for the future. His love for virtue in
creased with his age ; he loved to read pious books,
and took the greatest pleasure in the conversation of
440 ST. BASIL THE GREAT.
devout persons. He once had a dream, in which
chastity presented herself to his sight, arrayed in all
her celestial charms, whereupon his heart was inflamed
with an inextinguishable love of that divine virtue. In
consequence thereof he renounced all the amusements
of youth, and all that might induce him to love the
world, and made it his chief pleasure to devote him
self to the service of Christ. After receiving from his
father the groundwork of an excellent education,
he went to Cesarea of Cappadocia, and thence to
Cesarea of Palestine, where he took lessons of Thes-
peces, a celebrated orator. But while cultivating
profane literature he always gave the preference to
sacred letters, which he considered as the only study
worthy of a Christian. He also remained some time
in Alexandria, and then proceeded to Athens in order
to perfect himself in eloquence. His voyage thither
was marked by the peculiar protection of God, who
destined him for the support of his church and the
salvation of many. The vessel in which he sailed,
was beaten about for twenty days by a violent storm,
during which time those on board were exposed to the
rroot imminent peril. Nearly all that time our saint
ay prostrate on the deck, imploring the mercy of God,
and renewing the oblation of himself which his holy
mother had made at his birth. His father and mother
had, it seems, a presentiment of the danger in which
he was, and they joined their prayers to his. God
ST. BASIL THE GREAT. 441
.heard them favorably : the sea became calm, and all
those who were in the vessel were so persuaded that
they owed their safety to his prayers, that they with
one accord embraced the faith of Jesus Christ. H
at length landed at Egina, whence he repaired to
Athens ; this was about the year 350, so that he
might then have been twenty -one or twenty -two years
of age.
St. Basil, whose history we now resume, arrived
there about the year 351. It was, doubtless, a great
consolation to him to meet St. Gregory ; but being
somewhat disappointed in his expectations with regard
to Athens, he began to repent of having come. Gre
gory revived his drooping spirits, and restored tran
quillity to his mind by representing that as the morals
of men are only known by long experience, time was
also necessary in order to form a correct judgment
regarding their doctrine.
Their friendship, which was at first but a natural
one, became closer and more solid when they began
to confide o far in each other, as to interchange the
mutual sentiments of their hearts ; and knowing that
they had no other design than that of consecrating
themselves wholly to God, they had thenceforward
but one home and one table, even as they had but
cue will to serve God as perfectly as they could.
w Alas !" says St. Gregory, speaking of that blessed
union, " how can I describe it here without shedding
442 ST. BASIL THE GREAT.
tears ? Science, so very subject to envy, was the
object of our pursuit, yet neither had one feeling of
rivalry ; on the contrary, emulation only excited us to
study well, and we strove, not for who should prevail,
but for who should yield to his friend. Each of us
regarded the other s glory as his own. Our sole am
bition and our sole endeavor was to acquire virtue ;
we lived but to render ourselves worthy of the world
to come ; we labored to detach ourselves from this
life before death should call us hence, and to this end
nil our efforts were directed. The law of God was our
guide, and we urged each other on to the practice of
virtue ; we had no connection with libertine scholars,
but sought the company of those who were wise and
virtuous ; we avoided those young men who were of
n, turbulent disposition, and associated only with the
mild and peaceful, because it is much easier to con
tract vice than to communicate virtue ; we took more
pleasure in the useful sciences than in those which are
merely amusing ; we knew but two ways, that which
led to the church, and it we loved dearly, and that
which led to the school, and which we trod with less
pleasure ; to others we left the road to profaue ban
quets, to plays, balls and assemblies, for nothing should
interest us that does not tend to regulate our lives.
Borne there are who take names, either from their pa
rents, or according to their inclinations ; but we gloried
n being called Christians, and deserving the name."
81: BASIL THE GREAT. 44ft
Thus spoke St. Gregory, and we have thought it
expedient to record this most edifying passage, in
. jrder to present a model to students, and to deprive
them of the pretext of youth, or of bad example, since
these saints were then at the age when the passions
are the most violent, and that they dwelt in a city,
surrounded, of course, by young profligates, who,
while cultivating their minds, by the pursuit of
science, abandoned their hearts to their own perverse
inclinations.
Julian, subsequently the Emperor and the Apostate,
came to Athens while our two friends were studying
there. They very soon discovered his evil propensi
ties, although he dared not then manifest them.
Hence it was that St. Gregory said with deep sorrow .
" Oh ! what a canker does the Roman empire foster,
in the person of this young man ! God grant that I
may in this matter be a false prophet !" They re
mained but a short time in Athens after the arrival of
the prince, and Basil first left it, about the year 355,
notwithstanding all the efforts that were made to in
duce him to remain. St. Gregory soon after followed
his example. They both repaired to Constantinople
and were at length re-united in Cappadocia.
St. Basil had lost his father ; and having reached
Cesarea, his native place, he complied somewhat with
the world and the aspect of the times, accoiding to
the expression of St. Gregory Nazianzen, which may
*44 ST. BASIL THE GREAT.
signify that he taught rhetoric, not through ostenta*
tion, but to gratify the wishes of his fellow-citizens.
But his sister, St. Macrina, adding her entreaties to
the interior promptings of his own soul, he at length
determined to renounce the world. " He began, there
fore," says St. Gregory Nazianzen, " to live for him
self, to change from a child to a man, and to make
more generous efforts to arrive at divine philosophy."
" He despised," says also St. Gregory of Nyssa, " all
the vain glory of profane learning, and chose rathei
to embrace an humble life, even as Moses preferred
the Hebrews to the treasures of the Egyptians."
But let St. Basil himself describe the state in which
he then was. " After having," says he " given much
time to vanity, and spent nearly all the years of my
youth in acquiring by long and useless toil that worldly
wisdom which is condemned by God, I awoke, at
length, as from a profound sleep. In that state I
longed for a guide to conduct me into the way of true
piety. My greatest care was to reform my morals.
T, therefore, applied myself to study the Gospel, and I
there found that there is no better means of attaining
perfection than to sell all worldly goods, and divide
the amount thereof with those who are in need, to get
rid of all the cares of this life, so that the soul may
not be disturbed by any attachment to sublunary
things."
St. Gregory, who had postponed his baptism till ha
ST. BASIL THE GREAT. 445
iboulcl have returned to his own country, undertook, as
soon as he had received it, the same perfection which
he had recommended to his friend. Henceforward,
he gave himself so entirely to God that he wished for
nothing but him alone. He had an absolute contempt
for riches, rank, fame, power, and all the worthless lux
uries of this world. " I have given all," says he in
one place " to Him who has received and preserved me
for his portion. To Him have I consecrated my wealth,
my glory, my health, and whatever eloquence I may
have; all the profit which I have derived from these
advantages is a contempt for them, and the pleasure
of having something that I might, if I would, prefer
to Jesus Christ." Thenceforward, he regarded as
valueless all the grandeur and pleasure of the world.
His sole nourishment was coarse bread with a little
salt and water, and he delighted more in that humble,
mortified life, than worldlings do amid all the enjoy
ments of sense.
By this we learn that he, as well as St. Basil, then
embraced the ascetic life ; but they did not remain
long together, however they might have wished it, as
St. Gregory was obliged to stay with his father and
mother, in compliance with the duty imposed upon him
by nature. Hence St. Basil made alone some voyages
which he judged conformable to his cherished purpose
of consecrating himself to God without reserve, and
he traveled through Mesopotamia, Celesyria, Palestine
446 ST. BASIL THE GREAT.
and Egypt. He visited the holy solitaries in thoe
regions, and admired their austere and laborious life,
with their extraordinary fervor and assiduity in prayer.
lie was astonished to perceive that although invinci
ble to sleep and the other necessities of nature, in
hunger, thirst, cold, and nakedness, without a wish for
wiy species of relief, as though their body were a
stranger to them ; yet they always had their minds
/ree and fixed on God showing by their conduct how
men on earth may regard themselves as citizens of
beftven.
It would seern that St. Basil chanced to be in Alex
andria at the time when the impious George, that
furious Arian, raised such a violent persecution against
the Catholics and St. Athanasius. It was also in the
course of these travels, and about the year 357 or 358,
that he had everywhere the great affliction of seeing
tae most virtuous and the most distinguished amongst
the bishops and clergy, banished and maltreated by
the Arians, who had filled the church with schisms
a*jd dissensions. His heart was torn with sorrow, con
sidering that, whilst men agreed together in all the
d fterent states of life of which they made profession,
it was seen, on the contrary, that in the church of God
for which Christ died and on which he poured down
the plenitude of grace, most of its members were op
posed to each other and to the rules of Scripture,
But what appeared to him still more fearful was to
ST. BASIL THE GREAT. 447
ee priests divided in sentiments and in belief, and so
opposite in their conduct to the precepts of Jesus
Christ, ruthlessly tearing the chinch of God asunder,
disturbing his flock without respect for those who be
longed to Him, and verifying the saying of St. Paul,
that some amongst them should teach a corrupt doc
trine for the sake of gaining disciples for themselves.
He began to examine within himself what might be
the cause of these disorders, and discovered, with the
help of the holy books, that these divisions, and the
temerity of those who took the liberty of inventing
new dogmas, and of making a party for themselves in
opposition to that of Jesus Christ, rather than submit
to him, that all this proceeded solely from the fact
that these men had abandoned God and would no
longer recognize him as their King.
Dianeus was bishop of Cesarea for several years be
fore St. Basil returned from his travels, and the pre
late (who had baptized our saint) fearing lest some
other church might take him from him, gave him at
once the order of reader ; but that did not prevent him
from imitating the lives of those solitaries whom he
had seen. With that intent he joined Eustachus and
his disciples who there professed the monastic life
Eustuchus was a countryman of his and alsc one of
his earliest friends. He had built a monastery where
b he assembled several disciples, who observed a very
discipline; and St. Basil considered them worthy
448 ST. BASIL THE GREAT.
of his esteem, seeing that their exterior was so rcgulai
and their mode of living so nearly approaching that
of the solitaries whom he had seen in the other prov
inces.
Nevertheless, there were many persons who tried to
dissuade him from having any intercourse with them,
on the grounds that they were far from being ortho
dox in their belief with regard to the divinity of Christ
But the saint rejected this advice, being unable to
persuade himself that these men were interiorly so
very different from their modest and penitent exterior.
Tie very soon found that he had erred in forming such
a favorable estimate of them, and we have only to read
ecclesiastical history to recognize in Eustachus a pupil
of Arius, a Proteus who had no other faith than that
which might best promote his own interest, and finally
the greatest persecutor that St. Basil himself ever had.
The saint was not long in Cesarea; he merely
waited there for St. Gregory Nazianzen to retire with
him into Pontus ; but St. Gregory was prevented from
coming, and our saint resolved to pay a visit to his
mother, who resided with her daughter, St. Macrina,
where they had established a monastery of virgins.
There St. Basil found a solitude such as he desired.
His mother s monastery was situated near the river
[ris, at a short distance from Ibora, a small episcopal
town of Pontus, and within seven or eight stadas of
the church of the Forty Martyrs. The solitude chosen
ST. BASIL THE GREAT. 449
ty St. Basil was on the opposite bank of the river, and
he wrote a tempting description of it to St. Gregory,
with the hope of inducing him to go there ; but the
time was not yet come.
This first retreat may be placed about the year
358. The life on which he then entered was very
poor and very austere : bread, salt, and water were
his only nourishment (as we have already said of St.
Gregory) ; when he added to this a few herbs or vege
tables it was on some high festival. It was then that
he wrote to St. Gregory Nazianzen that excellent letter
which has been placed at the head of all the others,
treating at length of the conduct of solitaries, and con
taining much useful instruction. He there enters into
a detail which may serve to direct religious persons in
every action of their lives, and to make them perfect
models of sanctity in their state. In the rules there
laid down he does but embody his own conduct.
In order to be convinced of this, it is only necessary
to read what his brother, St. Gregory of Nyssa, and
St. Gregory of Nazianzen have written of him. They
say that having determined to embrace evangelical
poverty, that resolution was as firm in his soul as a
rock amid the waves ; that his delight was to have noth
ing and to follow in holy poverty his Saviour s cross ;
that he possessed nothing but his own body, devoting
all that remained of his wealth to the relief of the
poor. In fine, his abstinence was so great, that those
460 BT. BASIL THE GREAT.
who wrote his eulogium after his death, as naving
been the witnesses of his austerity during life, have
said that he gave to his body, not what nature de
manded for its support, but what the law of his absti-
ence had prescribed for it.
St. Gregory Nazianzen at length yielded to his en
treaties, and went to join him in his solitude. We
Lave a letter written by him some time after, wherein,
recalling the memory of the happy days they had
spent together in the exercises of the solitary life, he
makes known to us their manner of living. " Who,"
says he, "could be sufficiently grateful for having
passed a single month as happily as I did with you,
when our pleasure was hard work and voluntary pri
vations : So true it is that things even the most pain
ful become agreeable to us when they are done of our
own free will, whereas those which are in themselves
pleasing, become irksome and painful when done by
constraint. Who will restore to me those Canticles,
those vigils, those prayers which transported us from
earth to heaven ; that life which was almost disen
gaged from matter ; that emulation which we had for
the practice of virtue, or that zeal which we displayed
in making our actions conform to the rules of solid
piety ? What satisfaction did I not then enjoy in
applying myself to the study of the Sacred Scriptures f
And, to descend to more trivial matters, shall I see no
more those days when we labored with our hands, in
ST. BASIL THE GREAT. 451
carrying wood, hewing stones, planting trees, or dig
ging channels to carry off the water ?"
It is thus that St. Gregory reminds St. Basil of the
innocent pleasures of their retreat ; and it appears
that they consisted solely in a taste for prayer, in the
exercise of the virtues, in penitential labors, in holy
meditation on the sacred writings, to which they added
the study of the Fathers who had previously explained
them, so as to gather from their interpretations their
true signification and the tradition of the church.
About this time it was that the inhabitants of
Xeocesarea sent a deputation of their chief men to St.
Basil, praying him to go to their city for the instruc
tion of youth ; but the love of solitude prevailed in
his heart over their solicitations, earnest as they were,
for he loved better to enjoy his God in silence, than to
teach others the art of speaking eloquently. But
although he had retired to Pontus in order to devote
himself to God and his own soul, far away from the
tumult of the city, he could not prevent people from
coming to him, in crowds, for rules of conduct; especial
ly as, besides the rare talent which he had for expound
ing the sacred maxims of religion, and his profound
knowledge thereof, he exemplified what he taught by
his own life.
This was what caused the establishment of a grand
monastery, and in course of time, several others,
whereof his charity induced him to take the utmost
452 ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN.
care, moved thereto by his fervent zeal for the glory
of God and the salvation of souls. We learn from
St. Gregory Nazianzen, who was an eye-witness of the
fact, that the monks lived there, under the guidance
of the saint, in a marvellous union and an extraordi
nary ardor for the practice of virtue, animating each
other thereto, so that it might be said of them that,
by their fervor, they rendered men superior to their
own nature, and in some degree, celestial. The saint
wished them to live in common, so as to join society
with retreat, for which reason he usually calls them
communities of brethren, and, brotherhoods. Tha
better to establish amongst them an exact and uniform
observance, he instructed them with maxims from the
Fathers, and the earliest masters of the religious life,
and also gave them rules for conducting and sanctify
ing themselves in their state. Hence, we have the
precious treasure of these rules in his works, namely,
the greater rules, which contain thirty-five questions
and their answers ; and the minor rules which are to
the number of three hundred and thirteen, wherein
the subjects are not so copiously enlarged upon. He
also wrote in his solitude various letters, to monks,
rirgins, and other persons. But, whilst he labored to
inspire men with the love of retirement, by the expe
rience which he had of the advantages that it procures
for the soul, he manifested fully as much zeal to fill
the monastery of his sister, St. Macrina, with chaste
ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN. 453
uoves, whose principal exercise was to sigh incessantly
after heaven. This he expressly indicates to a lady
named Julita, who was a widow and related to him>
when he assures her that if he should one day have*
he happiness of seeing her embrace that holy and
ublime state, he would need the assistance of many
other persons to give adequate thanks to God.
His zeal did not confine itself to these first founda
tions, for he went about through all the cities and
towns of Pontus, urging the inhabitants of that pro
vince to shake off their natural indolence, and begin
to serve God in earnest. He prevailed upon very
many persons to renounce the world for the welfare
of their souls, and to unite in a holy society for the
service of God. He taught them to build monasteries,
to establish communities, to take care of each other,
to the end that none might want the necessaries of
life ; to occupy themselves with prayer, to sing hymns
and psalms, to have care of the poor, to provide them
with decent lodgings, and to furnish them with the
means of living. He also looked after the interest of
women as well as men, and instructed those people to
bring up virgins fit for becoming the spouses of Christ
Jesus. Thus it was that he speedily changed the as
pect of that province, so that almost every one began
to lead a chaste and holy life, and many persons laid
Lheir treasures at his feet to be distributed amongsi
the poor.
454 ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN.
St. Gregory Nazianzen labored, en his side, for th
glory of God ; and these two great men, whom the
Lord had given to his church to sustain her during
the perilous times of Arianism, exerted themselves
with extraordinary success, throwing in the whole
weight of their genius and the product of their stu
dies, for the confounding of sinners, the preservation
and encouragement of the just, and for the defense of
the true faith against the assaults of error. Basil, full
of tenderness and compassion for sinners, mildly en
couraged them to arise after their fall, while Gregory
exerted himself to prevent them in the first place from
falling into sin : the one was pure and untainted in
his own faith, the other boldly announced it to others ;
the one was humble before God, the other was so
before men ; the one soared above the proud, looking
down contemptuously upon them, the other overcame
them by the force of his reasoning. It was thus that
by various ways they both attained the same perfec
tion, and were destined by God for the government
of his people.
St. Gregory was not long permitted to share the
solitude of St. Basil. He was called home by his
father, who was bishop of Nazianzen, and had great
need of his son s assistance, more especially since he
had allowed himself to be so far duped by the Arians
^3 to sign the captious formulary of Rimini, which
gave rise to so many disorders in the church. From
ST GREGORY NAZIANZEN. 455
that time the monks of his diocese had separated from
him, and it was for the purpose of effecting a recon
ciliation, and doing away with the effects of his fath
er s fall, that St. Gregory was summoned home.
On the other hand, Dianeus, bishop of Cesare-a,
had, as we have already mentioned, fallen into the
same error as the father of St. Gregory ; and St. Basil,
although he tenderly loved him as his spiritual father
(having received baptism from him), was, nevertheless,
obliged to separate himself from his communion, hia
faith being dearer to him than any thing of this world.
The simplicity of St. Gregory s father, his own natural
integrity and sincerity, together with his great age,
had prevented him from distrusting the specious pre
tensions of the Arians, or suspecting the venom con
cealed in the formulary of Rimini. So, too, the ex
treme mildness of Dianeus, and his total want of firm
ness, had led him into a similar fault.
St. Gregory, having reached Nazianzen, labored
with all his might to reconcile his father with those
who had separated from his communion, and he had,
at length, the consolation of gaining his end. The
monks, who had been the last to secede, being more
grieved than exasperated by the fall of their bishop,
were the first to give the example of returning. This
took place about the year 364, and it was the general
wish that St. Gregory should celebrate the re-union
by a public discourse ; this he did, for he had pre
456 ST. BASIL THE GREAT.
viously received Holy Orders from the hands of hie
father, who had ordained him contrary to his own
wishes, and he had joined St. Basil in his retreat
chiefly to console himself for this elevation, from which
his modesty made him shrink.
St. Basil was also ordained priest in Cesarea a short
time after St. Gregory, and about the year 362. He
had been summoned to that city by the Bishop, Dia
neus, who, being on his death-bed, wished to be rec
onciled with him, and protested to him that, although
he had signed the formulary of Rimini, not being
aware of its real character, he had never in reality
meant to do any thing contrar} 7 to the faith of Nice.
With this assurance the saint thought himself obliged
to be satisfied. Dianeus being dead, Eusebius was
elected in his place, who hastened, after his consecra
tion, to raise St. Basil to the priesthood, in order to
secure him for his own diocese, and St. Basil was
quite as much afflicted by his ordination as St. Gre
gory had before been. He was, therefore, obliged to
remain in Cesarea, notwithstanding his ardent wish to
return to his dear solitude in Pontus ; and he com
plained of it in a letter to St. Gregory, who, endeav
oring to console him, answered as follows : " You
have, therefore, been caught as well as we, and we
have both fallen into the same snare. They have
mad a us priests, though neither of us had any such
intention, for we can bear witness of each other thai
ST. BASH THE GREAT. 467
each has ever loved the humblest and most obscure
life, and it might still have been the most advanta
geous to both. I, at least, would not venture to say
otherwise, until I am convinced what was or is the
vvill of God with regard to us. But since the deed is
done, I am of opinion that we must submit, chiefly
because of the times in which we live, when heretics
attack us on every side, and let it be our study not to
disappoint the hopes which are entertained of us, or
to do any thing unworthy of the life we have hitherto
been leading"
O
Although these two saints were grieved because of
their ordination, being penetrated with a sense of their
own nothingness and the great dignity of the priest
hood, the Church had cause to felicitate herself on
acquiring such a treasure at a time when the faithful
had need of powerful succor, to bear up against the
violent persecutions of Julian the Apostate, and that
of the Arians. They, indeed, resisted Julian with
heroic firmness, in 362, in which year the persecution
of that prince was at its height in Cappadocia. The
account of those troubles may be seen at length in
ecclesiastical history, but here it suffices to say that,
notwithstanding all the threats and all the promises
df that wicked monarch, ft --y scorned both his favor
and his indignation. Julian, therefore, dreading theii
eloquence and their erudition as the greatest obstacles
to his design of establishing idolatrv on the rains of
458 ST. BASIL THE GREAT.
Christianity, proposed at length to immolate them the
first to the pagan gods on his return from the Persian
war, as the noblest victims he could offer. But God
had decreed that he was never to return, and he died,
as every one knows, in the course of the following
year.
This death was a sort of triumph for St. Basil, to
whom God was pleased to reveal it at the very mo
inent when it occurred, the saint being then at prayer.
But at the same time God permitted his patience to
be tried by another species of persecution, which was
the less expected, as it came from Eusebius, his new
bishop for who could have appeared more closely
united with him than that prelate ? But, as we learn
from St. Gregory Nazianzen, he was moved against
him by human weakness, and it is conjectured that
the glory which St. Basil had acquired through the
lustre of his talents and virtues, and the unqualified
admiration wherewith he was regarded by the entire
city of Cesarea, made him obnoxious to the bishop,
whose self-love was hurt, and his envy excited.
He manifested this unworthy sentiment by treating
St. Basil with the utmost rudeness on several occa
sions, and he thereby gave offence to all the holiest
and wisest of his church, the monks in particular, who
could not tamely endure to see insult offered to a man
who did such honor to their profession. Finally, the
matter we~t so far, that the saint, fearing some dissen-
ST. BASIL THE GREAT. 456
sion between the pastor and his flock, took occasion to
quit the city by stealth and return to his beloved re
treat in Pontus, where he was followed by St. Gregory,
and resumed the government of the monasteries he
had there established. The people of Cesarea seeing 1
that he did not return, sent to assure him how much
they regretted his absence, and reminding him, with
the hope of inducing him to return, that Cesarea was
his native city and had, therefore, a strong claim upon
his affection. He, however, modestly requested them
(at the same time explaining the cause of his with
drawing from the city,) to grant him yet a little time
to enjoy the pleasure which he derived from the com
pany of the saints, meaning St. Gregory and the
monks of his monasteries. He manifested at the same
time his zeal for their welfare, by admonishing them
to beware lest the Arians, whom he calls the Philis
tines, might disturb the serenity or tarnish the purity
of their faith by their blasphemings, of which he
makes an abridgement, and their calumnies, which he
refutes.
There is nothing particular known of his occupa
tions during this second retreat. It is believed that
he then assisted St. Gregory to prepare the two dis
courses against Julian published by the latter about
that time. It is not very likely, however, that St. Gre-
gory then remained for any length of time with St.
Basil, seeing that his father had so great need of bis
460 ST. BASIL THE GREAT.
assistance in the government of his diocese. Euselnm
showed him great respect, and invited him to attend
h~ assemblies ; but Gregory merely thanked him by
fetter, and added that he must make free to tell him
supposing that a lover of truth like Eusebius could not
take offence thereat that the wrong he had done and
was still doing to Basil touched him most sensibly ;
that, as he had chosen him for a companion, to honor
the one and abuse the other, was neither more nor
less than caressing a person with one hand and giving
him a blow with the other, conjuring him, in fine, to
repair the injury he had done to Basil, and assuring
him that he would find it no difficult task to conciliate
his friend. He, at length, succeeded in bringing
about this reconciliation between Eusebius and St. Basil,
and made them once more good friends to the great
joy of the whole city.
And there never was a time when unanimity was
more necessary amongst the pastors of the church ;
for Jovian having lived but a short time, and Valens,
the grand abettor of the Arians, having succeeded to
him, the heretics waxed bolder under the protection of
that prince, and they crowded into Cesarea with their
errors and confusion. But St. Basil opposed them
with so much courage, strength, and wisdom, that
Valens and the Arian bishops who had accompanied
him to Cesarea, were obliged to retire without having
gained anything fo their sect, and having nothing for
ST. BASIL THE GREAT. 461
their pains but the disgrace of being overthrown by
Basil.
This took place about the year 366, after our saint
had remained three years in his retreat in Pontus. It
would be impossible to give an idea of all the good
which he effected in Cesarea after the defeat of the
heretics and their subsequent flight. His first care
was to manage the mind of Eusebius so prudently as
to banish therefrom every trace of suspicion and dis
trust. He was continually near him ; instructing,
warning, and obeying him ; rendering him, in fine, all
the services of an excellent counsellor, an assistant
ever ready at need, and an interpreter of the divine
oracles; so that it might be said, that of all the min
isters whom the bishop employed, Basil was the most
faithful and the most efficient. This will suffice for
us to s,iy of his conduct in Cesarea, as a more detailed
account of this portion of his life would lead us away
from our principal object, which is the connection of
this great saint with monastic history.
Eusebius died about the middle of the year 370,
and it was a great consolation for him to breathe his
last in the arms of St. Basil, who succeeded him in
the government of his church, notwithstanding the
exertions made by many ambitious and evil-rninded
persons, even amongst the bishops, to prevent him from
being elected. The church of Cesarea was at that
time one of the most considerable, and St. Gregory
462 ST. BASIL THE GREAT,
speaks of it as the mother of all the churches. It
was the metropolis of Cappadocia, and there are many
of the learned who hold that it was the capital of all
that country which the Romans called Pontus, that is
to say, Cappadocia, Galatia, lesser Armenia, all the
coast of Pontus, Paphlagonia, and Bithynia; which
from the time of Theodoret comprised eleven provinces
and more than the half of Asia Minor. It is not sur
prising, therefore, that this bishoprick was an ohject of
ambition to many ; but no one was so fit to govern it
as the great St. Basil, whether we consider his personal
merit, or the critical circumstances of the time, when
it required a man of eminent sanctity, learning and
ability to sustain the faith against the attacks of heresy.
He fully justified the hopes of those who placed him
there, the principal of whom were the elder Gregory,
father of St. Gregory Nazianzen, and St. Eusebius of
Samosata, whom the old bishop called in to support
him in his choice by the weight of his reputation and
his eminent merit. "Basil," says Gregory, "began
now to surpass himself, as he had before surpassed
others, and there were many occasions which called
forth and displayed all the solidity of his faith, the
fervor of his zeal and the extent of his devotion. The
history of his episcopate would furnish matter for
mere than one volume ; it may be seen, at length, in
M. Hermant and M. de Tillemont, who have collected
the most authentic monuments of ecclesiastical history
ST. BASIL THE GREAT. 463
We shall only, give here that portion of it which re
lates to our particular subject.
His conduct in the episcopate may be considered
either in relation to the government of his own people,
what he did for the adjacent provinces, or in his labors
or the universal church, whether to maintain the
purity of the faith, to reform the morals of the people,
or to inspire, encourage, and perfect piety. He never
dreamed that his own personal affairs ought to have
a share in his pastoral solicitude; he thought of noth
ing but promoting the glory of God and the salvation
of souls. The revenues of his church did not prevent
him from being poor, and he loved to feel the incon
veniences of poverty in wanting what might be con
sidered as the very necessaries of life to a prelate
charged as he was, with much care and business. He
all his life observed a rigorous fast, and it is impossible
o describe the many diseases which he endured, the
weakness to which he reduced his body by mortifica
tion, and at the same time, the labors which he
underwent in the worthy discharge of his duty, with
out recognizing the mighty hand of the Lord who
strengthened him by his grace and preserved his life,
as it were by a miracle, for the good of his church.
We can see no difference between St. Basil in his
retreat and St. Basil in his episcopate, except that of
rank and of ecclesiastical affairs : otherwise we find in
him the same austerities, and the same virtues.
464 ST. BASIL THE GREAT.
We know the care which he took of his people by
the frequent instructions which he gave them. Not
content with preaching on Sundays and festivals, he
sometimes gave instructions on week-days, either in
the morning or evening, and it was quite a common
occurrence to see even tradesmen thronging on those
days to hear him. He had established various prac
tices to maintain the piety of the people. " They
come to the house of prayer," says he in one of his
epistles, " before the dawn of day ; they make their
confession with lively sorrow, great compunction, and
torrents of tears. From prayer they pass to psalmody,
and form themselves into two choirs, for the purpose
of singing alternately : by this means they fortify
themselves in meditation on the word of God, and
prepare their souls in due recollection. One of them
selves is appointed to commence what is to be sung,
the others continue, and answer, &c. When the day
light is come, all join in offering to God the psalm of
confession as it were with one heart and one mouth, and
each testifies his contrition in words proper to himself."
He remarks, in another place, that his people were
gone to pray in a church of the Martyrs from mid
night till noon-day, occupied in adoring God and sing
ing his praise, and that he himself, having gone to a
more distant church to perform the liturgy, came
there about noan, and explained to them the 114th
Psalm. II- [<>!-. us in one of his letters, that frequent
ST. BASIL THE GREAT. 465
communion was common in his church. " It is good,"
says he, " and useful, to communicate every day, since
Jesus Christ has expressly said that he who eateth his
flesh and drinketh his blood, shall have eternal life.
Who can doubt, therefore, that the more we partici
pate in this bread of life, the more share we shall have
in his life ? Hence it is that people here communi
cate four times in the week, on Sunday, Wednesday,
Friday and Saturday, and also on other days when
we are celebrating the feast of a Martyr."
To these special affairs of his episcopal city. St.
Basil added the visits which he made to the country
parishes, and this notwithstanding his extreme debility
and failing health. But God indemnified him for his
sufferings and privations by the blessings which ho
poured upon his labors. Not the least of these was
the many letters he had to write, now consoling some
in their afflictions, now exhorting others to persevere
in piety, and to others on various subjects connected
with their spiritual interest. He also advised his
people in their temporal affairs, according as charity
required. Being tiieir bishop, he looked upon him
self as their father and their pastor, and fulfilled with
all possible tem>*ness, the duties of those characters.
It appeared with lustre in the magnificent asylum
which he founded for the poor, the sick, and princi
pally for lepers. It was a building, or rather a group
of buildings, which St. Gregory mentions as a new
466 ST. BASIL THE GREAT.
town. He describes it as being a little out from the
city, and says that it was a common treasury whereto
the exhortations of St. Basil had gathered in not only
from the superfluity of the rich, but also from the
moderate means of the poorer classes. " It is there,"
adds the saint, " where sickness is even joyfully borne,
where misery itself appears happy, and where charity
is proved and tested." The fact is, that according to
the plan marked out by St. Basil, this was to be an
asylum for all those whose infirmities or poverty made
them require assistance, and even for the reception of
strangers. There were means of accommodation for
all those persons who were necessary for the comfort
and relief of the sick ; physicians, nurses, people for
carrying burdens, others to wait upon the infirm,
craftsmen of all the different trades, and workshops
for each particular craft. Theodoret remarks that
the saint, who often visited the institution, took spe
cial care of the lepers, and that his charity for them
went so far as to make him embrace them as his dear
orothers, unmindful of his birth and station. This
hospital was famous for long after, and was called the
Basiliad, from the name of its founder. It must
have been commenced about the year 371 or 372.
Besides this one, there were several smaller asylums
Bcattered over the country for the sick and infirm 01
the towns and villages, and these were subject to tbe
Inspection of the vicars.
ST. BASIL THF GREAT. 467
His attention was no lew directed to the providing
of good pastors for the church, and to preserve the
clergy in edifying regularity. He had several vicars
to govern under him in the various districts of his
diocese, and he sometimes brought them together at
the feast of St. Eupsyquis. He renewed the canons
of the Fathers, whereby the vicars were to apprise the
bishop of those whom they wished to place in the
rank of ecclesiastics, a rule which had been for some
time neglected ; and he ordered his vicars to send him
the names of all the ecclesiastics, the village to which
they belonged, by whom they had been admitted,
what was their profession, and he decreed that those
who should have been only admitted by priests since
the first indiction, that is to say since 358, were to be
excluded from the clergy by the vicars, who had,
nevertheless, the power of retaining them if they were
found worthy, after a careful examination. We mav
judge, by this exactness in the choice of the inferior
ministers, with what extreme caution he acted, in the
ordination of deacons and priests.
It was this attention which filled his church with
excellent priests, and obtained for his clergy a reputa
tion worthy of their bishop. This was manifested on
a certain occasion when Innocent, bishop of a large
city whose name is not given, being a considerable
distance from Cesarea, though still in the east, wish
ing to have his successor appointed before his deatfc
468 8T. BASIL THE GREAT.
for he was very old, wrote to ask the saint for an
ecclesiastic whom he named, in order to make him
his successor. St. Basil, who knew the importance of
a suitable choice, wrote in reply that the person men
tioned had indeed many good qualities, but not so
many as to qualify him for filling his seat. He then
cast his eyes over the priests of his city, and selected
one who was advanced in years, and whom he styles
a precious vessel and a child of the blessed Hermo-
genes ; a man capable of sustaining the weight of the
episcopacy, of a venerable aspect, fit to instruct with
becoming mildness those who opposed the truth,
grave in his manners, learned in the canons, pure in
his faith, strict in observing the rules of chastity and
the practices of religious exercises, and totally detached
from the things of this world. This man he offered
to the bishop at what time soever he might require
him. Whereupon it has been judiciously remarked,
that he would never have done so had he not had
other priests of similar virtue and similar merit. lie
had, in fact, amongst his clergy, Meleces, whom he
calls his co-operator in the duties of his office ; Pe-
menes, his own kinsman, of whom he makes honorable
mention in one of his letters ; Philosomus, spoken of
by Paladins in his Lausiac, as having generously con
fessed his faith before Julian the Apostate.
We shall not attempt to follow St. Basil in all that
he effected during his episcopate : it may be seen ic
BT. BASIL THE GREAT. 469
detail in the writings of St. Gregory Nazianzen, St.
Gregory of Nyssa, the historians of the church, and
lastly in the works of Hermant and; cle Tillemont.
Finally, after a long series of cares,, episcopal solicitude,
instructions, dogmatic writings, contests with the here
tics, toils and persecutions endured with heroic v forti-
tude ; after a life ever pure, yet ever penitentia,!, ever
crossed with contradiction and opposition and ever
adorned with resplendent virtue, the frequent mala
dies which he had suffered brought on that hour which
was to terminate this glorious career of sanctity.
In the year 377, the Goths, whom the emperor
Valens had received as friends in Thrace, and who
from Catholics had, consequently, become Arians,
took up arms against him, God having disposed it so
that they whose faith he had corrupted should be
made the instruments of his punishment. They de
feated him near Adrianople, on the 9th of August in
the following year, and burned him in a cabin where
he had taken shelter. His death caused a great
change in the affairs of the church. Gratian, the
nephew of Valens, a prince full of zeal for the catholic
faith, and being already emperor of the West, now
succeeded to the throne of t}ie East. He recalled all
the orthodox bishops who had been banished by hia
uncle, and put a stop, as far as he could, to the dis
turbances caused by the Arians. St. Basil thus saw
his desires accomplished, and, like the holy old maa
40
470 ST. BASIL THE GREAT.
Simeon, it seemed that he could ask of God to let
him depart in peace, since he had had the consolation
of seeing the commencement of that of the churcl..
That final favor was at length vouchsafed to him on
the first day of the year 379, and it was accompanied
by a new miracle equal to any yet performed by him;
though being scarcely half alive, he would go to the
church to take his leave of it, and to lend his assist
ance in the consecration of some of his most faithful
disciples, " to the end," says St. Gregory Nazianzen,
" that the altar might have those whom he had him
self prepared for its ministry, and who had been the as
sistants and co-operators of his priesthood. The infer
ence is that he ordained several of his ecclesiastics, and
appointed them to bishopricks within his jurisdiction,
profiting by the liberty which the death of Valens gave
to the church to fill with Catholic bishops those sees
which had none.
At length his final hour arrived, and multitudes of
the citizens thronged around his house, overwhelmed
with grief, each one feeling for his own loss. It would
seem as though they sought by their tears and lamen-
tsiticjss to retain the soul of their bishop within its
mortal tenement ; but choirs of angels were already
waiting for him who had so long sighed for their
company. So, having given some last instructions to
those about him, he finished his mortal course witb
hose words of our blessed Lord to his eternal Father
ST. BASIL THE GREAT. 471
"Into thy hands I commend my spirit," joyfulh
giving up his soul, in or about the fiftieth year of his
age.
One of the finest eulogiums that could be composed
for St. Basil, is given by St. Gregory in a few words :
it is that when he died he carried with him all that
he possessed of earthly things, for he left not even as
much wealth as would provide a decent monument to
cover his remains. But that did not prevent his
obsequies from being of the most magnificent kind.
The multitude of people who followed him to the
grave was prodigious : every one hastened to touch
his body or to secure a shred of the hem of his gar
ment ; the streets, the squares, the galleries, the
houses, to the second and third stories were filled with
spectators. Tears and lamentations mingled with the
sound of psalmody. The whole city was in mourning ;
pagans, Jews, and foreigners mingled with the Catho
lics and citizens, even vicing with them in showing
honor to the departed prelate ; finally, after a difficult
passage through the dense multitudes, the body of the
saint was deposited in the tomb of the bishops, his
predecessors.
We must now return to St. Gregory Nazianzen,
from whom we have digressed in order to follow the
brilliant career of St. Basil. We left him in the soli
tude of Pontus with Cesarius. He was not permitted
to remain long there, being recalled by his father, and
472 f*T, ORK60RY NAZIANZEJT.
he, too, Lad his full share of cares and tril illations,
On the one side, he was obliged to assist his father in
the government of his church, he being now very old,
and on the other hand, he had to advise and direct
his mother in certain domestic affairs, particularly the
uccession of his brother Cesarius, who died in the
end of the year 368, or the beginning of 369. His
health was likewise very indifferent, and he was sub
ject to severe fits of sickness, so that he was not with
out his crosses ; but then they are the appendages of
the friends of God. St. Gregory bore them as became
his piety, till there suddenly came one which was tho
"less expected as St. Basil himself was the innocent
cause thereof, he having still but the glory of God in
view. Cappadocia which, down to the year 370 had
formed but one province ecclesiastical and civil, was
then divided into two in the latter department. Ce-
sarea remained the metropolis of the first, and the city
of Tyanes became the capital of the second. Anthy-
mus, who was bishop of Tyanes, pretended that tho
province was divided ecclesiastically as well as civilly,
and took unto himself the rights of a metropolitan
over the churches contained in what was called the
jit cond Cappadocia.
St. Basil opposed him, and, in order to preserve his
diocese as it had been transmitted to him, lie erected
some new ^ees, among? t others that of Sasimes, a
small town situated on one of the main roads :f Cap
ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN. 473
padocia, and there he wished to place St. Gregory
Nazianzen to defend it against Anthymus, who had a
design upon it. "St. Gregory, who loved peace and
tranquillity, and sighed only for retirement, was very
much grieved by this appointment, and only yielded
to St. Basil with a very bad grace, and at the special
bidding of his father ; this was towards the middle of
the year 372. Going to take possession of his new
church, he found it in the hands of Anthymus, and
having no mind to wrest it from him by force, he
quietly retired to a mountain hard by.
He was not long to enjoy renose ; his father con
jured him to return, and he only obeyed on condition
that he was not to go to Sasimes, but merely to gov
ern the church of Nazianzen under his father, without
any engagement for the future. He acquitted himself
of that duty with the zeal which might be expected
of him, until the year 374, when he lost his father,
who was nearly an hundred years old, and almost at
the same time, St. Nonna his mother, who was nearly
as old as her husband. Although he had intended to
return to his solitude immediately after their death,
he was prevailed on by the importunities of many
persons, and especially of Bosphorus, bishop of Colo-
nia, to change his resolution. Still he would only
consent to govern the church of Nazianzen provision
ally, and not as titular, (a measure which was not
without precedent,) until such time as the bishops
474 ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN.
could select i fitting pastor for the flock, \vhich lie
earnestly entreated them to do.
Finally, when he had been petitioning them fot
upwards of three years, alleging as a reason his broken
health, which unfitted him to fulfill the duties of his
office (and this he really believed for he had been
(-jven dangerously ill) ; seeing that his solicitations
were ineffectual, he secretly retired to Seleucia, and it
does not appear that Nazianzen had a bishop again
till 381, when our saint himself returned, after the
council of Constantinople, as we shall soon relate.
Seleucia was the metropolis of Isauria ; the relics of
the illustrious saint Tfcecla were religiously preserved
there in a church bearing her name, whence it is that
St. Gregory calls it Seleucia of St. Thecla. He
made a long stay there, most probably till 379. It was
there that, having renounced glory, riches, -worldly
expectations, and even science, taking no other nour
ishment than a little bread, he sought to rise above
visible things in order to occupy himself solely witb
things celestial, and he tasted the innocent delights of
a life remote from the troubles of the world. Still ho
found his cross even there, as well "in the attacks of
the heretics, as in the heavy sorrow which rent his
heart to see the misfortunes brought by the Arians in
376 on the church of Cappadocia ; whereupon he
wrote several letters to St. Gregory of Nyssa, predict-
ing, however, the end of the persecution, which SOOD
ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN. 475
after took place, in consequence of the death of Valens.
Gratian, who succeeded him, having commenced, as
\ve have said, to give peace to the Church, our saint
began to breathe more freely ; but the death of St
Basil, which soon after occurred, plunged him again
into sorrow, all the greater because he could not
even have the consolation of beholding his precious re
mains, not being yet quite recovered from his recent
illness.
Gratian, having thus given peace to the Church, on
*he 19th of January, 379, he resigned the empire of
the East to Theodosius the Great, a truly Catholic
prince, and full of zeal for the promotion of religion.
The point now was to re-establish the faith of Nice in
Constantinople, where the Arians had so long made
fearful havoc. Being absolute masters there, they
had exercised their power to the full extent of their
hatred, against the orthodox. There was no disgrace
or no opprobrium too heavy to cast upon them. They
were loaded with contumely and threats of every kind ;
their wealth was taken from them, and their property
confiscated ; they were sent into exile, and many of
them, too, were publicly massacred, even bishops and
aged men. It was only the Catholics who were bereft
of liberty, and they found themselves exposed to all
imaginable evils. St. Gregory also says that the
church of St. Sophia, which was the principal church,
might be called the -devil s citadel, seeing that he had
476 ST. GREGORY NAZIAXZEN.
retired thither, and made it a garrison for his soldiers
There assembled the whole army of falsehood and the
legions of impure spirits, and the cohorts of the furies ;
for this latter name might be well applied to the
Arian women, who were so carried away by fanaticism
that they became, as it were, so many Jezabels.
Nor was this the only evil which weighed down tho
Imperial city. The Novations had several churches
there ; the heresy of the Macedonians, who denied the
divinity of the Holy Ghost, was making rapid pro
gress ; the Apollonarists began to assume a formida
ble aspect, and the Eunomians had a bishop there ; but
still the Arians were the most powerful. Thus the
true faith was almost buried beneath the fetid mass of
infidelity and heresy ; still it lived and flourished in
the hearts of a small number of the faithful, who
formed, as it were, a little flock without order, without
a pastor, without fence or inclosure to protect them.
The reputation of Gregory s learning and piety, which
had crossed the seas of Asia, and heightened by the
praise of St. Eusebius of Samosata, induced the Catho
lics of Constantinople to call him thither, their prayer
being seconded by the bishops of the adjacent districts,
and by those of Thrace, together with St. Meleces,
Bosphorus of Colonia, another bishop of Cappadocia,
named Theodore, and finally St. Basil had himself re
quested him to go there. He was even blamed for so
long postponing his departure, as we see by the rear
ST. GREGORY NAZJANZEN. 477
which he gives in some of his letters for not hav
ing gone sooner to Constantinople.
He arrived there in 379, and the gift of miracles
followed him there, but his chief support was the
assistance of Jesus Christ, for whose glory he was to
contend. The manner of his entrance into that second
Rome proves this, as well as his humility. He says
that his purpose must have appeared no less extraor
dinary than that of David when he opposed Goliath ;
that there could be no man more contemptible in the
eyes of the world than he ; that he was not only a
stranger, but a native of a paltry hamlet ; that he was
bent with sickness and old age ; his head bald, and
always bowed down ; his face unprepossessing, being
furrowed with the channels of his tears, emaciated by
his continued austerities, and withered with fear of the
judgments of God ; that his speech was rude and
unpolished, his garments of the humblest kind, and
that he had no more money than he had wings."
He was received, on his arrival, in the house of some
of his kindred, who were no less akin to him in the
spirit of piety. The Catholics (having no place where
in to assemble, a chapel was fitted up in the house
already mentioned, which in process of time became a
church of great grandeur and magnificence, through
the additions made to it by the Emperors. It was
called Anastasia or the Resurrection, because the true
(VJth, which had been all but extinct in Constantinople,
178 ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN.
l>egan thu-e to revive. There it was that this great
doctor vigorously opposed the heretics, preserved
Catholics from the contagion of their errors, explained
the doctrine of the church, and directed the people
according to the laws of the Gospel.
He particularly warned the faithful against a snare
laid for them by the heretics, which was the desire to
penetrate with their own mind the sublimity of our
mysteries, and to judge of their truth by human rea
son. Thence they piqued themselves on speaking ir.
a captious and sophistical manner, by way of passing
it off for elevation of mind, and seeking to dazzle the
weak, they entangled them in their errors. They also
spoke of religion in private and social meetings, at
table during meals, and on all similar occasions.
Nothing was more indecorous or more unseasonable ;
and it was also exceedingly dangerous, because the
heretics were everywhere, and everywhere tried to
insinuate their venom.
The saint thereupon set the faithful right, advising
them not to enter into any disputes on the subject of
religion, showing them that every one is not called
upon to speak on such subjects, and that it should not
be done at all times, in all places, nor before all sorts
of persons, nor should any one seek to penetrate what
is beyond the reach of human reason. He thereupon
gave them this fair maxim : " There are," says he,
u occasions when we may listen ; there are others
ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN. 473
tfhen we may speak ; but there are others when feai
should hold us in suspense and prevent us from either
speaking or listening. It is true that it is less danger
ous to hear than to speak ; but it is far safer to withdraw
altogether from the contest than to stay and listen,**
This was an excellent preservative against the conver
sation of the heretics ; but, lest it might be thought
that he was unable to defend the truths of faith which
he wished others to believe, he made four excellent
discourses, explanatory of the doctrine of the church
with regard to the Trinity, and completely annihila
ting the false reasoning of the heretics. It was these
discourses which obtained for him the surname of
the Theologian.
The principal object of his preaching was the de
fence of the faith, and the refutation of heresy. The
state of the city required this ; but still he did not so
entirely devote himself to it, as to neglect the morals
of his own people. He gave them for a rule, that
true piety did not consist in talking incessantly, and
without proper judgment of the things of religion, but
in observing the commandments of God, giving alms,
practising hospitality, visiting the sick, praying, sor
rowing for sin, mortifying the senses, repressing anger,
moderating mirth, keeping guard on the tongue, sub
duing the body and the mind, &c. If the eloquence
which he employed in his discourses were the fruit of
his study of profane authors, he had ennobled it by
480 ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN.
the reading of the sacred books, and, as he said him
self, by the vivifying word , which is that of the
cross.
People ran in crowds to listen, and they sometime
even forced the balustrade of the choir in order to
hear him more distinctly. There were no heretics of
any sect whatsoever, nor even pagans, who did not list
en to him with pleasure, some to imbibe his doctrin*,
others attracted by his eloquence, and by all he was
heard with unqualified admiration.
But the most efficient preaching was that of his
example. He was rarely seen in public places ; he
stopped not to discourse on indifferent topics with
all sorts of people, and his conversation was always
grave and serious. Although he did not wish to re
fuse the invitations of those who asked him to their
houses, he would prefer at any time to displease them
bv refusing, rather than avail himself too often of
their hospitality. He retrenched all useless visiting,
find usually remained at home, having no other conver
sation than his own. It was there that he passed the
nights, either in communing alone with Jesus Christ,
or singing psalms and hymns alternately with others.
He took great delight in prostrating himself before
God, and in his presence shedding torrents of tears
for his sins. He macerated his body by his austerities
mid in the oblation of the august sacrifice of our altars,
he offered himself to God in union with Jesus Christ
ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN. 481
What tended very much to gain for him the afFeo
tlon of the people of Constantinople was, that they
saw in him nsither precipitation, nor importunity,
nor violence, nor ostentation, nor vanity ; whereas
they saw him, on the other hand, modest, humble,
retired in his habits, and like a hermit in the midst of
men, leading the life of a philosopher, but of a truly
Christian one. Then the example of such eminent
piety, together with his powerful eloquence, reduced
the heretics to silence, and did much to promote the
interests of religion. These effects were so much the
more important there, because Constantinople was re
garded as the link between the East and West, and
as the source whence the faith spread abroad on
every side.
It must not, however, be imagined that this favorable
result was the effect of the plaudits which he received.
They were the fruits of his patience and of his labors ;
and it was the will of God that such should be the
crown of the persecutions he had to bear from the
heretics. In feet, he had no sooner appeared in the
city than all the sects, who had before -been Dickering
amongst themselves, formed a grand junction to op
pose him. They tore him in pieces in their sermons
and in their speeches ; and after having attacked him
personally by calumny, they fell on his flock like ra
ging wolves. Fanaticism even excited apostate
monks, profligate women, ir prudent damsels, and
482 6T. GREGORY NAZIANZEN.
l.oorgnrs whom their fury rendered truly pitiable; ah
these allies flocked to the Anastasia, at the time when
l; ;>tism was being administered, which might be on
I lie evening of Easter day which in that year, 379,
Ml on the 21st of April and penetrating even to the
sanctuary, they profaned the altar by their sacrileges,
dashed down the sacred vessels, and placed in tho
pulpit their own idol; that is to say, their bishop,
Pemophilus. To these excesses succeeded wine,
dnncing, and works of darkness unfit to be named
They directed all their insults against the saint him
self and the ministers of the Church. They threw
stones at them, wounded some, and killed others ; and
one zealous Catholic was beaten to death with clubs
in the midst of the city. Nor did the persecution end
there ; every imaginable outrage was inflicted on the
faithful, who were driven from their houses, and even
from the solitudes wherein they had taken shelter.
St. Gregory was apprehended as a malefactor, and
brouqht before the prefects, who conspired with the
people against him, and treated him very hardly, al
though without the consent of, and even contrary to
the intentions of the emperors : but Jesus Christ pro
tected him, and brought him forth gloriously from
this severe trial.
The emperor Theodosius having at length arrived
iti Constantinople from Macedonia, on the 24th No
vember, 380, greeted St. Gregory with the warmest
ST. GREGORY NAZIAN-EN. 483
tokens of esteem, and welcomed him to the Imperial
city. In that first interview the saint solicited per
mission to retire from Constantinople ; but the em
peror told him : " God makes use of my agency tc
grant you this church. The whole city demands it,
and could not, it seems to me, be persuaded to any
thing else : the people are even disposed to compel
me to this step, in case I refused ; but they know very
well that there is no compulsion necessary they
know that I desire it as ardently as they do them
selves."
The emperor sent a message on the same day to
Demophilus, Bishop of the Arians, to know whether
he would embrace the faith of Xice, and thus re
unite the people in the same belief; and upon his re
fusing to do so, he commanded him to give up ali
\he churches, which were at once restored to the
Catholics. The Arians had taken possession of them
forty years before, when Eusebius usurped the see
of the bishop, St. Paul, in 339. The faithful were
loud in their applause for this act of Theodosius, and
they thought they might safely venture to ask him
for St. Gregory as their bishop, protesting that it waa
the greatest favor he could confer upon them. The
saint, overwhelmed with fear, could hardly speak, so
great was his terror lest the public clamor should
suoeeed. He sent to beg the people to desist, repre
senting to them that the only thing then needful wai
484 ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN.
to ft- turn thanks to God, and that every other mattet
could be postponed. The people admired his mod
esty, as did Theodosius himself, who at once gave him
possession of the Episcopal house, the ecclesiastical
revenues, and all the churches of the city. Gregory
refused, on the first day, to ascend the Episcopal
throne, but it seems that he was forcibly placed
thereon some days after. The heretics were so exas
perated against him that they sought to take his
life. One young man did actually attempt to assas
sinate him, but God did not permit him to succeed :
on the contrary, he became his own accuser, and
threw himself at the feet of the saint, confessing the
atrocious design which he had entertained. St.
Gregory forgave him, and admitted him to his friend
ship a fact which tended no little to increase the
i-steem and veneration in which he was held. Al
though he might have prosecuted the heretics, and
brought them to condign punishment through the fa
vor of Theodosius, he only made use of the mildest
means to win them over, hoping that his moderation
would mollify them, and render them more open tc
conviction. Such was the course pursued by him on
an occasion so auspicious for the Catholics, and so mor
tifying to the Arians.
His conduct during the short time that he gov
erned the Church of Constantinople, might w^U be
proposed as a model to form the greatest prelates.
ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN. 483
His disinterestedness in the administration of t]ie rev
enues of his church was such, that he would never
profit by them, although they were very great. He
took particular care of the poor, of monks, virgins,
strangers, prisoners, citizens, and of all persons who
made a particular profession of piety. He commis
sioned certain persons to watch over the wants of
these respective classes. He encouraged the singing
of psalms, and of vigils spent in prayers and tears. Fi
nally, by his cares, his exhortations, his discourses so
full of apostolic force, his vigilance, his vows and lam
entation before God, he drew down so many blessings
on his people, that true faith and solid piety became
triumphant in every state of life. Services so essen
tial deserved to have been more fully recognized than
they were by the bishops who met in the second cecu-
menic council ; but God reserved the full reward of
his servant s works for heaven.
The emperor Theodosius having put the Catholics
in possesion of the churches of Constantinople, decreed
by letter that all the bishops of his dominions should
assemble in that city to confirm the faith of Nice, to
establish a bishop in the Imperial city, and to secure
that peace which it was beginning to enjoy.
One hundred and fifty bishops assembled there at
that time, including those from Egypt aad from
Macedonia, who were not in A ime for the opening.
St. Gregory was then formally established as Bishop
486 ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN.
of Constantinople, to the great satisfaction of the em
peror, of the holiest bishops of the council, and of
others also, at least in appearance. It was only he
himself who dissented ; but he was placed on tho
Episcopal throne, notwithstanding his earnest and
even tearful remonstrances. Nevertheless, there soon
after turned up some affairs amongst the bishops
which so disgusted the saint with his new dignity,
that he absolutely demanded permission to resign it
and withdraw from the city. We may see iu the ec
clesiastical writers his reasons for this step, but here a
detail of them would be a useless digression. Nec-
tairus was, therefore, installed in his place ; and as a
deer escapes from the toils, so did Gregory escape
from Constantinople to refresh himself in retirement
after the labors he had endured, and the many trials
to which the envy of certain bishops had subjected
him. lie went then to Nazianzen ; but even there
repose was not all at once to be had. On the
contrary, he had the affliction of seeing that church in
the position of a ship tossed about at sea, without a
pilot having no bishop, and being almost subjugated
by the Apollonarists, who were seeking to secure it
for themselves. He tried in vain to place a bishop
there, and being unable to take charge of it himself,
because of his bad health, he retired to the estate of
Arianzen, which he had inherited from his father, for
the purpose of restoring his health. This was about
ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN. 487
the year 381 or 382 ; but even there he did not remain
altogether idle, for he wrote several letters, especially
for the support of the faith in Nazianzen, where the
Apolonarists had gone so far as to establish a bishop of
their own sect. St. Gregory was, therefore, forced
by the chief men of that city and by the bulk of the
people to go there himself, their love for him being
now seconded by their fear of those heretics.
His humility, which never forsook him, joined to
his many infirmities, made him regard the weight of
that church as far beyond his strength ; and he finally
succeeded in obtaining the appointment of a bishop,
Eulalins, his cousin and his disciple. Thus, seeing
himself at last free to think only of God and his own
salvation, he retired to the country for the remainder
uf his life. .He there led a monastic life, with some
other solitaries. " I live," said he, " amongst the
rocks and surrounded by wild beasts ; my dwelling is
A cavern where I live all alone ; I have but one habit,
and I have neither shoes nor fire ; I live only on hope;
[ am the scorn and opprobrium of men ; I sleep only on
straw ; I am clad in linen ; my floor is moistened with
ths tears I continually shed." All this did not pre
vent some persons, of the stamp of Maximus the
Cynic (who had a philosophical exterior, and mocked
he austerities of the true religious) from reproaching
him for this mode of living, as though it had been
JOG luxurious am too effeminate : to these he replied
498 ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEW.
in a little poem which he composed on tha occaa-
si on.
Ho indeed wrote several poems, for he excelled in
poetry, and his verse is as much admired for its elo
quence as his prose ; but he employed this double
gift only for the glory of God, to whom he had con
secrated his affections and his works. Much more
might be said of the deeds and writings of this great
saint ; but we refer our readers to those who have
treated of his life at full length, and to the ecclesiastical
historians, and pass on to his happy death. God had
insensibly prepared him for his end by frequent ail
ments of various kinds, and he awaited it in his solitude
calmly and hopefully. We know not the particular
circumstances of his death. St. Jerome says that he
was nearly three years dead when he made his cata
logue of ecclesiastical authors, in 392 ; so he must
have died in 389 or at the beginning of 390, in the
sixtieth or sixty-first year of his age, if he were born.
as it is thought, in 329.
The Latin Church celebrates his festival on the
9th of May. The Greeks honor him on the 30th of
January, with St. Basil and St. John Chrysostom,
and by himself on the 25th of the same month.
His body was tranferred from Nazianzen to Constan-
tiople by order of Constantine Porphyrogenetus,
and deposited in the church of the Apostles, near
the altar and the body of St. John Chrysostom,
ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEff. 489
It was conveyed thence to Rome, and placed beneath
the altar of the church of the Virgin, on the Campus
?tfartins, in 1505, whence Pope Gregory XIII. had
it. solemnly taken, on the llth of June. 1582, to a
arire chapel which he had placed under the invoca
tion of that saint, in the church of St. Peter, and the
next day had it inclosed under the altar. The feast
of this translation is marked in the Roman Martyrologj
on the llth of June.
ST. JOHN CHBYSOSTOM,
ARCHBISHOP OF CONSTANTINOPLE, AND DOCTOR OF
CHURCH.
From Socrates, Theodoret, and other historians.
THIS incomparable doctor, on account of the fluency
and sweetness of his eloquence, obtained soon aftei
his death the surname of Chrysostom, or Golder
Mouth, which we find given him by St. Ephrem of
Antioch, Theodoret, and Cassiodorus. But his tendei
piety, and his undaunted courage and zeal in the
cause of virtue, are titles far more glorious, by which
he holds an eminent place among the greatest pastor?
and saints cf the church. About the year 344. ao
ccrding to F Stilting, .Antioch the capitaJ city of tbt
490 ST. JOHN CHUYSOSTOM.
East, was ennobled by his illustrious birth. He h*d
one elder sister, and was the only son and heir of
Secundus, master of the horse, that is, chief com
mander of the imperial troops in Syria. His mother,
Anthusa, left a widow at twenty years of age, contin
ued such the remainder of her life, dividing her time
between the care of her family and the exercises of
devotion. Her example in this respect made such an
impression on our saint s master, a celebrated pagan
sophist, that he could not forbear crying out, "What
wonderful women have the Christians!" She man
aged the estate of her children with great prudence
and frugality, knowing this to be part of her duty to
God, but she was. sensible that their spiritual instruc
tion in virtue was of infinitely greater importance.
From their cradle she instilled into them the most
perfect maxims of piety, and contempt of the world.
The ancient Romans dreaded nothing more in the
education of youth, than their being ill taught the
first principles of the sciences ; it being more difficult
to unlearn the errors then imbibed, than to begin on a
mere tabula rasa, or blank paper. Wherefore Anthusa
provided her son the ablest masters in every branch
of literature, which the empire at that time afforded.
Eloquence was esteemed the highest accomplishment,
especially among the nobility, and was the surest
means of raising men to the first dignities in the state.
John studied that art under Libanius, the most famous
ST. JOHN CHHYSOSTOM. 491
orator of that age; and such was his proficiency, that
even in his youth he excelled his masters. Libaniua
being asked by his pagan friends on his death-bed,
nbout the year 390, who should succeed him hi his
school : " John," said he, " had not the Christians
stolen him from us." Our saint was then priest,
While he was only a scholar, that sophist one day
read to an assembly of orators a declamation composed
by him, and it was received with unusual tokens of
admiration and applause. Libanius pronounced the
young orator happy, " as were also the emperors/ he
said, " who reigned at a time when the world was pos
sessed of so great a treasure." The progress of the
young scholar in philosophy, under Andragatius, was
no less rapid and surprising ; his genius shone in every
disputation. All this time his principal care was to
study Christ, and to learn his spirit. He laid a solid
foundation of virtue, by a perfect humility, self-denial,
and a complete victory over himself. Though natu
rally hot and inclined to anger, he had extinguished
all emotions of passion in his breast. His modesty,
meekness, tender charity, and singular discretion, ren
dered him the delight of all he conversed with.
The first dignities of the empire were open to John.
But his principal desire was to dedicate himself to
Kod, without reserve, in holy solitude. However, not
being yet twenty years of age, he for some time
Dleaded at the bar. In that employment he wa*
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
drawn by company into the diversions of the world,
and sometimes assisted at the entertainments of the
stage. His virtue was in imminent danger of splitting
against that fatal rock, when God opened his eyes,
Tie was struck with horror at the sight of the prec:
pice upon the brink of which he stood ; and not con
tent to flee from it himself, he never ceased to bewail
his blindness, and took every occasion to caution the
faithful against that lurking place of hellish sirens, but
more particularly in his vehement sermons against the
stage. Alarmed at the danger he had narrowly es
caped, full of gratitude to God his deliverer, and to
prevent the like danger for the time to come, he was
determined to carry his resolution of renouncing the
world into immediate execution. He began by the
change of his garb, to rid himself the more easily of
the importunities of friends : for a penitential habit is
not only a means for preserving a spirit of mortification
and humility, but is also a public sign and declaration
to the world, that a person has turned his back on its
vanities, and is engaged in an irreconcilable war against
them. His clothing was a coarse gray coat ; he
watched much, fasted every day, and spent the greater
part of his time in prayer and meditation on the holy
scriptures : his bed was no other than the hard floor.
In subduing his passions, he found none of so difficult
a conquest as vain-glory ; this enemy he disarmed by
embracing every kind of public humiliation. The
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 493
tlamors of his old friends and admirers, who were in
censed at his leaving them, and pursued him with
their invectives and censures, were as arrows shot at
random. John took no manner of notice of them :
he rejoiced in contempt, and despised the frowns of a
world whose flatteries he dreaded : Christ crucified
was the only object of his heart, and nothing could
make him look back after he had put his hand to the
plough. And his progress in virtue was answerable
to his zealous endeavors.
St. Meletius, bishop of Antioch, called the young
ascetic to the service of the church, gave him suitable
instructions, during three years, in his own palace, and
ordained him Reader. John had learned the art of
silence, in his retirement, with far greater application
than he had before studied that of speaking. This
he discovered when lie appeared again in the world,
though no man ever possessed a greater fluency of
speech, or. a more ready and enchanting eloquence,
joined with the most solid judgment and a rich fund
of knowledge and good sense ; yet in company he
observed a modest silence, and regarded talkativeness
as an enemy to the interior recollection of the heart,
as a source of many sins and indiscretions, and as a
mark of vanity and self-conceit. He heard the words
tt" the wise with the humble docility of a scholar, and
he bore the impertinence, trifles, and blunders of fools
in discourse, not to interrupt the attention of his sou I
94 ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
to God, or to make an ostentatious show of his elo
quence or science : yet with spiritual persons he con
versed freely on heavenly things, especially with a
pious friend named Basil, one of the same age and
inclinations with himself, who had been his most be
loved school-fellow, and who forsook the world to em
brace a monastic life, a little before our saint. After
three years, he left the bishop s house to satisfy the
importunities of his mother, but continued the same
manner of life in her ho.se, during the space of two
years. He still saw frequently his friend Basil, and
he prevailed on two of his school-fellows under Liba-
nius to embrace an ascetic life ; Theodorus, afterwards
bishop of Mopsuestia, and Maximus, bishop of Seleucia.
The former returned in a short time to the bar, and
fell in love with a young lady called Hermione. John
lamented his fall with bitter tears before God, and
brought him back to his holy institute by two tender
and pathetic exhortations to penance, " which breathe
an eloquence above the power of what seems merely
human," says Sozomen. Not long after, hearing that
the bishops of the province were assembled at Anti-
och, and deliberated to raise him and Basil to the
episcopal dignity, he privately withdrew, and lay hid
till the vacant sees were filled. Basil was made bishop
of Raphanaea near Antioch; and had no other re
source in his grief for his promotion, but in tears and
complaints against h. friend who had betrayed him
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 495
into so perilous a charge. John, being then twenty-
six years old, wrote to him in his own justification six
incomparable books, Of the Priesthood.
Four years after, in 374, he retired into the moun
tains near Antioch, among certain holy anchorets
who peopled them, and whose manner of life is thus
described by our saint : They devoted all the morn
ing to prayer, pious reading, and meditating on the
holy scriptures. Their food was bread, with a little
salt ; some added oil, and those who were very weak,
a few herbs or pulse ; no one ever ate before sunset.
After the refection it was allowed to converse with
one another, but only on heavenly things. They
always closed their night-prayers with the remem
brance of the last judgment, to excite themselves to a
constant watchfulness and preparation ; which prac
tice St. Chrysostom earnestly recommends to all
Christians with the evening examination. These
monks had no other bed than a mat spread on the
bare ground. Their garments were made of the
rough hair of goats or camels, or of old skins, and
such as the poorest beggars would not wear, though
some of them were of the richest families, and had
been tenderly brought up. They wore no shoes ; no
one possessed any thing as his own ; even their poor
necessaries were all in common. They inherited their
estates only to distribute them among the poor; and
on tliem, and in hospitality to strangers, they ha-
496 ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
stowed all the spare profits of their work. They all
used the same food, wore a uniform habit, and by
charity were all one heart. The cold words mine
and thine, the baneful source of lawsuits and animos
ities among men, were banished from their ce.ls.
They rose at the first crowing of the cock, that is, at
midnight, being called up by the superior ; and, aftei
the morning hymns and psalms, that is, matins and
lauds, all remained in their private cells, where they
read the holy scriptures, and some copied books.
All met in the church at the canonical hours of
tierce, sext, none, and vespers, but returned to their
cells, none being allowed to speak, to jest, or to be
one moment idle. The time which others spend at
table, or in diversions, they employed in honoring
God ; even their meal took up very little time, and
after a short sleep, (according to the custom of hot
countries,) they resumed their exercises, conversing
not with men but with God, with the prophets and
apostles in their writings and pious meditation ; and
spiritual things were the only subject of their enter
tainment. For corporal exercise they employed
themselves in some mean manual labor, such as
entertained them in humility, and could not inspire
vanity or pride : they made baskets, tilled and
watered the earth, hewed wood, attended the kitchen,
washed the feet of all strangers, and waited on them
without distinction, whether they were rich or poor
ST. JOHN CHRYS08TOM. 49?
The saint ad Is, that anger, jealousy, envy, grief,
and anxiety for worldly goods and concerns, were
unknown in these poor cells ; and he assures us, that
the constant peace, joy, and pleasure which reigned
in them, were as different from the bitterness and
tumultuous scenes of the most brilliant worldly
felicity, as the security and calmness of the most
agreeable harbor are, from the dangers and agitation
of the most tempestuous ocean. Such was the rule
of these cenobites, or monks who lived in commu
nity. There were also hermits on the same moun
tains who lay on ashes, wore sackcloth, and shut
themselves up in frightful caverns, practising more
extraordinary austerities. Our saint was at first
apprehensive that he should find it an insupportable
difficulty to live without fresh bread, use the same
stinking oil for his food and for his lamp, and inure
his body to hard labor under so great austerities.
But by courageously despising this apprehension, in
consequence of a resolution to spare nothing by
which he might learn perfectly to die to himself, he
found the difficulty entirely to vanish in the execu
tion. Experience shows that in such undertakings,
the imagination is alarmed not so much by realities
as phantoms, which vanish before a courageous heart
which can look them in the face with contempt.
Abbot Ranee, the reformer of La Trappe, found more
difficulty in the thought of rising without a fire in
498 ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
winter, in the beginning of his conversion, than he
did in the greatest severities which he afterwards
practised. St. Chrysostorn passed four years under
the conduct of a veteran Syrian monk, and after
wards two years in a cave as a hermit. The damp-
cess of this abode brought on him a dangerous dis
temper, and for the recovery of his health he was
obliged to return into the city. By this means he
was restored to the service of the church in 381, for
the benefit of innumerable souls. He was ordained
deacon by St. Meletius that very year, and priest by
Flavian in 386, who at the same time constituted
him his vicar and preacher, our saint being then in
the forty-third year of his age. He discharged all
the duties of that arduous station during twelve
years, being the hand and the eye of his bishop, and
his mouth to his flock. The instruction and care of
the poor he regarded as his first obligation ; this he
always made his favorite employment and his delight.
He never ceased in his sermons to recommend their
cause and the precept of alms-deeds to the people.
Antioch, he supposed, contained at that time one
hundred thousand Christian souls : all these he fed
with the word of God, preaching several days in the
week, and frequently several times on the same day.
He confounded the Jews and Pagans, also the Ano-
mseans, and other heretics. He abolished the most
inveterate abuses, repressed vice, and changed tha
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 499
face of that great city. It seemed as if nothing
could withstand the united power of his eloquence,
zeal, and piety.
Theodosius L, finding himself obliged tc lavy *
new tax on his subjects, on occasion of his war witb.
Maximus, who had usurped the Western empire in
387, the populace of Antioch, provoked at the de
mand, mutinied, and discharged their rage on the
emperor s statue, those of his father, his two sons,
and his late consort, Flavilla, dragged them with
ropes through the streets, and then broke them to
pieces. The magistrates durst not oppose the rabble
in their excesses. But as soon as their fury was
over, and that they began to reflect on what they
had been guilty of, and the natural consequences of
their extravagances, they were all seized with such
terror and consternation, that many abandoned the
city, others absconded, and scarce any durst appear
publicly in the streets. The magistrates in the mean
time were filling the prisons with citizens, in order to
their trials, on account of their respective share in the
combustion. Their fears were heightened on the ar
rival of two officers dispatched from Constantinople
to execute the emperor s orders with regard to the
punishment of the Hotel s. The reports which were
spread abroad on this occasion imported, that the
emperor would cause the guilty to be burned alive,
would confiscate their estates, and level the city with
500 ST. JOHN CHRY8OSTOM.
the ground. The consternation alone was a
torment th<*u the execution itself could have been.
Flavian, notwithstanding his very advanced age, arid
though his sister was dying when he left her, set out
without delay in a very severe season of the year, to
implore the emperor s clemency in favor of his flock.
Being come to the palace, and admitted into the em
peror s presence, he no sooner perceived that prince
but he stopped at a distance, holding down his head,
covering his face, and speaking only by his tears, as
though himself had been guilty. Thus he remained
for some time. The emperor seeing him in this con
dition, carrying, as it were, the weight of the public
Gjuilt in his breast, instead of employing harsh re-
pi oaches, as Flavian might naturally have expected,
summed up the many favors he had conferred on that
city, and said at the conclusion of each article : " Is
this the acknowledgement I had reason to expect ? Is
this their return for my love ? What cause of com
plaint had Ihey against me ? Had I ever injured
them ? But granting that I had, what can they allege
for extending their insolence even to the dead. Had
they received any wrong from them ? Why were
they to bo insulted too ? What tenderness have I
not shown on all occasions for their city ? Is it not
notorious that I have Driven it the preference in my
love and esteem to all others, even to that which
gave me birth ? Did not I always express a longing
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 501
Desire to see it, and that it gave me the highest satis
faction to think I should soon be in. a condition of
taking a journey for this purpose ?"
Then the holy bishop, being unable, to bear such
stinging reproaches, or vindicate thep- conduct, made
answer : " We acknowledge, Sir, that you have on
all occasions favored us with the greatest demonstra
tions of your singular affection ; and this it is that
enhances both our crime and our grief, that we should
have carried our ingratitude to such a pitch as to
have offended our best friend and greatest benefactor :
hence, whatever punishment you may inflict upon us,
it will still fall short of what we deserve. But alas !
the evil we have done ourselves is worse than innu
merable deaths : for what can be more afflicting than
to live, in the judgment of all mankind, guiltv of the
blackest ingratitude, and to see ourselves deprived of
your sweet and gracious protection, which was oui
bulwark. We dare not look any man in the face ;
no, not the sun itself. But as great as our misery is,
it is not irremediable ; for it is in your power to
remove it. Great affronts among private men have
often been the occasion of great charity. When the
devil s envy had destroyed man, God s mercy restored
him. That wicked spirit, jealous of our city s hap
piness, has plunged her into this abyss of evils, out
of which you alone can rescu * her. It is your affec*
fion, I dare say it, which has rough t them upon ue,
602 ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
by exciting the jealousy of the wicked spirits against
ua. But, like God himself, you may draw infinite
good out of the evil which they intended us. If you
spare us, you are revenged on them.
" Your clemency on this occasion will be more
honorable to you than your most celebrated victories.
It will adorn your head with a far brighter diadem
than that which you wear, as it will be the fruit only
of your own virtue. Your statues have been thrown
down : if you pardon this insult, you will raise your
self others, not of marble or brass, which time de
stroys, but such as will exist eternally in the hearts
of all those who will hear of this action. Your pre
decessor, Constantine the Great, when importuned by
his courtiers to exert his vengeance on some seditious
people that had disfigured his statues by throwing
stones at them, did nothing more than stroke his
face with his hand, and told them, smiling, that he
did not feel himself hurt. This his saying is yet in
the mouths of all men, and a more illustrious trophy
to his memory than all the cities which he built,
than all the barbarous nations which he subdued.
Remember your own memorable saying, when you
ordered the prisons to be opened, and the criminals
to be pardoned at the feast of Easter : Would to
God I were able in the same manner to open the
graves, and restore the dead to life ! That time is
DOW come. Here is a city whose inhabitants are
BT. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 5015
Already dead ; and is, as it were, at the gates of its
sepulchre. Raise it then, as it is in your power to
do, without cost or labor. A word will suffice.
Suffer it by your clemency to be still named among
the living cities. It will then owe more to you than
to its very founder. He built it small, you will raise
it great and populous. To have preserved it from
being destroyed by barbarians would not have been
so great an exploit, as to spare it on such an occasion
as now offers.
" Neither is the preservation of an illustrious city
the only thing to be considered; your own glory,
ind. above all, the honor of the Christian religion, are
highly interested in this affair. The Jews and
Pagans, all barbarous nations, nay, the whole world,
have their eyes fixed on you at this critical juncture ;
all are waiting for the judgment you will pronounce.
If it be favorable, they will be filled with admiration,
and will agree to praise and worship that God, who
checks the anger of those who acknowledge no mas
ter upon earth, and who can transform men into
angels ; they will embrace that religion which
teaches such sublime morality. Listen not to those
who will object that your clemency on this occasion
may be attended with, and give encouragement to
he like disorders in other cities. That could only
bappen, if you spared for want of a power to chaa-
*ise : but whereas you do not divest yourself, by suca
504 BT, JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
nn act of clemency, of this power, and as by it you
endear and rivet yourself the more in the affections
of your subjects, this, instead of encouraging such
insults and disorders, will rather the more effectually
prevent them. Neither immense sums of money, nor
innumerable armies, could ever have gained you so
much the hearts of your subjects and their prayers for
your person and empire, as will this single action*
And if you stand fair for being such a gainer from
men, what rewards may you not reasonably expect
from God ? It is easy for a master to punish, but
tare and difficult to pardon.
"It will be extremely glorious to you to have
granted this pardon at the request of a minister of
the Lord, and it will convince the world of your piety,
in that you overlooked the unworthiness of his per
son, and respected only the power and authority of
that Master who sent him. For though deputed im
mediately by the inhabitants of Antioch to deprecate
your just displeasure on this occasion, it is not only
in their name that I appear in this place, for I am
come from the sovereign Lord of men and angels to
declare to you in his name, that, if you pardon men
their faults, he will forgive you your sins. Call to
mind then that dreadful day on which we shall all be
summoned to give in an account of all our actions.
Reflect on your having it now in your power, without
pain or labor, to efface yo*ir sins, and to find mercy at
BT. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 506
that terrible tribunal. You are about to pronounce
your own sentence. Other ambassadors bring gold,
silver, and other like presents, but as for me, I offer
nothing but the law of God, and entreat you to imi
tate his example on the cross." He concluded his
tarangue by assuring the emperor that if he refused
to pardon the city, he would never more return to it,
nor look upon that city as his country, which a prince
of his humane disposition could not prevail upon him
self to pardon.
This discourse had its desired effect on the emperor,
who with much difficulty suppressed his tears while
the bishop spoke, whom he answered in these, .few
words : " If Jesus Christ, the Lord f of all things,
vouchsafed to pardon and pray for those very men
that crucified him, ought I to hesitate to pardon them
who have offended me ? I, who am but a mortal man
like them, and a servant of the same Master." The
patriarch, overjoyed at his success, prostrated himself
at the emperor s feet, wishing him a reward for such
an action suitable to its merit. And whereas the
prelate made an offer of passing the feast of Easter
with the Emperor at Constantinople, he^to testify hew
sincerely he was reconciled to the city of Antioch,
urged his immediate return, saying: "Go, Father,
delay not a moment the consolation your people will
receive at your return, by communicating to them fcbe
assurances of the pardon I grant tfiera ; I know they
508 ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
must be in great affliction." The bishop set out ao
cordingly ; but, to delay as little as possible the joy
of the citizens, he dispatched a courier before him
with the emperor s letter of pardon, which produced
a comfortable change in the face of affairs. The
bishop himself arrived time enough before Easter to
keep that solemnity with his people. The joy and
triumph of that city could not be greater; it is ele
gantly described by St. Chrysostom, extolling above
all things the humility and modesty of Flavian, who
attributed the whole change of Theodosius s mind,
and all the glory of the action, to God alone. The
discourse which Flavian addressed to the emperor.,
except the introduction, had been composed by St.
Chrysostom, who recited it to the people to comfort
them, and ceased not strongly to exhort them to pen
ance, and the fervent exercise of good works, during
the whole time of their bishop s absence. After this
storm our saint continued his labors with unwearied
zeal, and was the honor, the delight, and the darling
not oi Antioch only, but of all the East, and his repu
tation spread itself over the whole empire. But God
was pleased to call him to glorify his name on a new
theatre, where he prepared for his virtue other trials,
and other crowns.
St. Chrysostom had been five years deacon, and
twelve years priest, when Nectarius, bishop of Con
stantinople, dying in 397, the emperor Arcadia^ ai
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM, 5< 7
the suggestion of Eutropius the eunuch, his chamber
lain, resolved to procure the election of our saint to
the patriarchate of that city. He therefore dispatched
a secret order to the count of the East, enjoining him
to send John to Constantinople, but by some strata
gem ; lest his intended removal, if known at Antioch,
should cause a sedition, and be rendered impractica
ble. The count repaired to Antioch, and desiring the
faint to accompany him out of the city to the tombs
of the martyrs, on the pretence of devotion, he there
delivered him into the hands of an officer sent on
purpose, who, taking him into his chariot, conveyed
him with all possible speed to the imperial city.
Theophilus, patriarch of Alexandria, a man of a proud
and turbulent spirit, was come thither to recommend
a creature of his own to that dignity. He endeavored
by illegal practices secretly to traverse the canonical
promotion of our saint ; but was detected, and threat
ened to be accused in a synod. Whereupon he was
glad to desist from his intrigues, and thus John was
consecrated by him on the 26th of February, in 398.
In regulating his own conduct and his domestic con-
terns, he retrenched all the great expenses which his
predecessors had entailed on their dignity, which he
looked upon as superfluous, and an excessive prodigal
ity, and these sums he applied to the relief of :he
poor, especially of the sick. For this purpose he
and maintained several numerous hospitals,
508 ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
under the government of holy and clian table priest*,
and was very careful that all the servants and attend
ants were persons of great virtue, tenderness, compas
sion, and prudence. His own family being settled in
irood order, the next thing he took in hand after hiu
promotion was the reformation of hia clergy. This
he forwarded by zealous exhortations and proper rules
for their conduct, tending both to their sanctification
and exernplarity. And to give these his endeavors
their due force, he lived an exact model of what he
nculcated to others : but his zeal exasperated the
,epid part of that order, and raised a storm against
himself. The immodesty of women in their dress in
that gay capital excited in him sentiments of the most
just abhorrence and indignation. Some ^oung ladies
seemed to have forgot that clothing is the covering of
the ignominy of sin, and ought to be an instrument
of penance, and a motive of confusion and tears, not
of vanity. But the exhortations of St. Chrysostom
moved many to despise and lay aside the use of pur
ple, silks, and jewels. It was a far more intolerable
scandal that some neglected to cover their necks, or
used such thin veils as served only to invite the eyes
of others more boldly. Our saint represented to such
persons that they were in some respects worse than
public prostitutes: for these hide their baits at home
only for the wicked : " but you," said he, " carry youi
snar* tvery where, and spread your nets publicly in all
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 603
places. You allege, that you never invited others to
sin. You did not by your tongue, but you have done
it by your dress and deportment more effectually than
you could by your voice : when you have made
another to sin in his heart, how can you be innocent!
You sharpened and drew the sword : you gave the
thrust by which the soul is wounded. Tell me, whom
does the world condemn ? whom do judges punish ?
Those who drink the poison, or those who prepare and
give the fatal draught? You have mingled the
execrable cup ; you have administered the potion of
death : you are so much more criminal than poisoners,
as the death which you cause is the more terrible;
Cor you murder not the body, but the soul. Nor do
you do this to enemies ; nor compelled by necessity,
nor provoked by any injury ; but out of a foolish
vanity and pride. You sport yourselves in the ruin
of the souls of others, and make their spiritual deatt
your pastime." Hence he infers, how false and ab
surd their excuse is in saying, they mean no harm.
These and many other scandals he abolished. He
suppressel the wicked custom of swearing, first at
Antioch, then at Constantinople. By the invincible
power of his eloquence and zeal he tamed the fiercest
sinners, and changed them into meek lambs : he con
verted an incredible number of idolaters and heretics.
His mildness towards sinners was censured by the
tfovatians; he invited them to repentance rith the
510 ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
compassion of the most tender father, and was accus
tomed to cry out : " If you are fallen a second time,
or even a thousand times into sin, come to me, and
you shall be healed." But lie was firm and severe
in maintaining discipline, though without harshness ;
to impenitent sinners he was inflexible. To mention
one instance of the success of his holy zeal out of the
many which his sermons furnish ; in the year 399, the
second of his episcopacy, on Wednesday in Holy
Week, so violent a rain fell as to endanger the corn,
and threaten the whole produce of the country.
Hereupon public processions were made to the churcl*
of the apostles by the bishop and people, to avert the
scourge by imploring the intercession chiefly of St
Peter, St. Andrew, (who is regarded as the founde.
of the church of Byzantium,) St. Paul, and St.
Timothy. The rain ceased, but not their fears. There
fore they all crossed the Bosphorus to the church of
SS. Peter and Paul, on the opposite side of the water.-
This danger was scarce over, when on the Friday fol
lowing many ran to see certain horse-races, and on
Holy Saturday to games exhibited at the theatre.
The good bishop was pierced to the quick with grief,
and on the next day, Easter-Sunday, preached a most
zealous and eloquent sermon, Against the Games and
Shows of the Theatre and Circus. Indignation made
tiffi not so much as mention the paschal solemnity ;
but by an abrupt exordium he burst into the mott
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 511
raheraent pathos, as follows : " Are these things to b
borne ? Can they be tolerated ? I appeal to your
selves, be you your own judges. Thus did God ex
postulate with the Jews." This exclamation he often
repeated to assuage his grief. He put the people in
mind of the sanctity of our faith ; of the rigorou*
account we must give to God of all our moments, and
the obligation of serving him incumbent on us from
his benefits, who has made for us the heaven and
earth, the sun, light, rivers, &c. The saint grieved
the more, because, after all, they said they had dono
no harm, though they had murdered not only their
own souls, but also those of their children. "And
how will you," said he, " after this app?oach the holy
place ? How will you touch the heavenly food ?
Even now ao x see you overwhelm? I with grief, and
covered with confusion. I see scrao striking their
foreheads, perhaps those who have Bot sinned, but are
moved with compassion for their brethren. On this
account do I grieve and suffer, that the devil should
make such a havoc in such a flock. But if you join
with me, we will shut him out. By what means ?
Tf we seek out the wounded, and snatch them out of
his jaws. Do not tell me their number is but small :
though they are but ten, this is a great loss : though
but five, but two, or only one. The shepherd leaving
ninety-nine, did not return till he had completed his
cumber by recovering that sheep whic\ was lost. Oo
J>12 ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
not say, it is only one ; but remember that it is a sou,
for which all things visible were made; for which
laws were given, miracles wrought, and mysteries
effected : for which God spared not his only Son.
Think how great a price hath been paid for this one
sheep, and bring him back to the fold. If he neither
hears your persuasions nor my exhortations, I will
employ the authority with which God hath invested
me." He proceeds to declare such excommunicated.
The consternation and penance of the city made the
holy pastor forbear any further censure, and to com
mend their conversion. Palladius writes that he had
the satisfaction to see those who had been the most
passionately fond of the entertainments of the stage
and circus, moved by his sermons on that subject, en
tirely renounce those schools of the devil. God is
more glorified by one perfect soul than by many who
serve him with tepidity. Therefore, though every
individual of his large flock was an object of his most
tender affection and pastoral concern, those were par
ticularly so, who had secluded themselves from the
world by embracing a religious state of life, the holy
virgins and nuns. Describing their method of life,
he says : Their clothing was sackcloth, and their beds
only mats spread on the floor ; that they watched part
of the night in prayer, walked barefoot, never ate
before evening, and never touched so much as bread,
using no other food than pulse and herbs, and that
ST. JOHN CHRTTSOSTOM. 513
they were always occupied in prayer, manual labor,
or serving the sick of their own sex. The spiritual
mother, and the sun of this holy company, St. Nica-
i-uta, is honored December the 27th. Among the holy
widows who dedicated themselves to God under the
direction of this great master of saints, the most illus
trious were the truly noble ladies St. Olyrnpias, Sal-
vina, Procula, and Pantadia. This last (who was the
widow of Timasus, formerly the first minister to the
emperor) was constituted by him deaconess of the
church of Constantinople. Widows he considered as
by their state called to a life of penance, retirement,
and devotion ; and he spared no exhortations or en
deavors to engage them faithfully to correspond to
the divine grace, according to the advice which St.
Paul gives them. St. Olympias claimed the privilege
of furnishing the expenses of the saint s frugal table.
He usually ate alone ; few would have been willing to
dine to late, or so coarsely and sparingly as he did ;
and he chose this to save both time and expenses :
but he kept another table in a house near his palace,
for the entertainment of strangers, which he took care
should be decently supplied. He inveighed exceecv-
ingly against sumptuous banquets. All his revenues
lie laid out on the poor ; for whose relief he sold the
rich furniture which Nectarius had left ; and once, in
a great dearth, he caused some of the sacred vessels
to be melted down for that purpose. This action wa
514 ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
condemned by Theophilus, but is justly regarded by
St. Austin as a high commendation of our holy prel
ate. Besides the public hospital near his cathedra^
and several others which he founded and maintained,
he erected two for strangers. His own patrimony he
had given to the poor long before, at Antioch. His
extraordinary chanties obtained him the name of John
of almsdeeds. The spiritual necessities of his neigh
bor were objects of far greater compassion to his ten
der charity. His diocese, nay, the whole world, he
considered as a great hospital of souls, spiritually
blind, deaf, sick, and in danger of perishing eternally ;
many standing on the brink, many daily falling from
the frightful precipice into the unquenchable lake.
Not content with tears and supplications to the Father
of mercies for their salvation, he was indefatigable in
labors and in every endeavor to open their eyes;
feared no dangers, no not death itself in its most
frightful shapes, to succor them in their spiritual neces
sities, and prevent their fall. Neither was this pastoral
care confined to his own flock or nation : he extended
it to the remotest countries He sent a bishop to in
struct the Nomades or wandering Scythians : another,
an admirable man, to the Goths. Palestine, Persia,
and many other distant provinces felt the most benefi
cent influence of his zeal. He was himself endued
with an eminent spirit of prayer : this he knew to
be the great channel of heavenly graces, the cleanset
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 51 $
of the affections of the soul from earthly dross, and
the means which renders them spiritual and heavenly,
and makes men angels, even in their mortal body.
He was therefore particularly earnest in inculcating
this duty, and in instructing others in the manner of
performing it. He warmly exhorted the laity to rise
to the midnight office of matins together with the
clergy: "Many artizans," said he, "watch to labor,
and soldiers watch as sentries ; and cannot you do as
much to praise God ?" He observes, that the silence
of the night is peculiarly adapted to devout prayer,
and the sighs of compunction: which exercise we
ought never to interrupt too long ; and by watching,
prayer becomes more earnest and powerful. Women
he will not have to go easily abroad to church in the
night-time : but advises that even children rise in the
night to say a short prayer, and as they cannot watch
long be put to bed again : for thus they will contract
from their infancy a habit of watching, and a Chris
tian s whole house will be converted into a church.
The advantages and necessity of assiduous prayer he
often recommends with singular energy ; but he ex
presses himself on no subject with greater tenderness
and force than on the excess of the divine love, which
is displayed in the holy Eucharist, and in exhorting
the faithful to the frequent use of that heavenly sacra
ment St. Proclus says, that he abridged the liturgy
of his church. St. Nilus assures us that he was often
*:tf BT. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
favored with visions of angels in the church during
the canonical hours, surrounding the altars in troops
during the celebration of the divine mysteries, and at
the communion of the people. The saint himseF
confidently avers, that this happens at those times,
which he confirms by the visions of several hermits.
The public concerns of the state often called on the
saint to afford the spiritual succors of his zeal and
chanty. Eutropius was then at the head of affairs.
He was a eunuch, and originally a slave, but had
worked himself into favor with the emperor Arcadius.
In 395 he was instrumental in cutting off Rufinus,
the chief minister, who had broke out into an open
rebellion, and he succeeded the traitor in all his
honors : golden statues were erected to him in several
parts of the city, and what Claudian, Marcellinus in
his chronicle, Suidas, and others, represent as the
most monstrous event that occurs in the Roman
Fasti, was declared consul, though a eunuch. Being
placed on so high a pinnacle, a situation but too apt
to turn the strongest head, forgetful of himself and
the indispensable rules of decency and prudence, it
was not long before he surpassed his predecessor in
insolence, ambition, and covetousness. Wholesome
advice, even from a Chrysostom, served only to exas
perate a heart devoted to the world, and open to
flatterers, who added continually new flames to its
Dassions. Tn the mean time, the murmurs and indig
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 51*
nat.id of the whole empire at the pride and avarice
of Eutropius were a secret to him, till the pit was
pi^pared for his fall. Gainas, general of the auxiliary
Goths in the imperial army, was stirred up to revenge
an affront which his cousin Trigibildus, a tribune, had
received from the haughty minister. At the same
time the empress Eudoxia, having been insulted by
hiro, ran to the emperor, carrying her two little
babar. in her arms, and cried out for justice against
thf insolent servant. Arcadius, who was as weak
in abandoning, as he was imprudent in choosing
favorites, gave orders that the minister should be
driven out of the court, and his estates confiscated.
Eutropius found himself in a moment forsaken by
all the herds of his admirers and flatterers, without
on.e single friend, and fled for protection to the
church, and to those very altars whose immunities
he had infringed and violated. The whole citv was
in an uproar against him ; the army called aloud for
Ins death, and a troop of soldiers surrounded the
church with naked swords in their hands, and fire
in their eyes. St. Chrysostorn went to the emperor,
and easily obtained of him that the unhappy criminal
might be allowed to enjoy the benefit of sancta*ry ;
and the soldiers were prevailed upon, by the *ears
of the emperor and the remonstrances of the bUiop,
to withdraw. The next day the people flocked to
behold a man whose frown two days before made
518 BT. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
the whole world to tremble, now laying hold of the
altar, gnashing his teeth, trembling and shuddering
having nothing before his eyes but drawn swords,
dungeons, and executioners. St. Chrysostom on this
occasion, made a pathetic discourse on the vanity
and treachery of human things, the emptiness and
falsehood of which he could not find a word empbati-
cal enough to express. The poor Eutropius could
not relish such truths a few days ago, but now found
his very riches destructive. The saint entreated the
people to forgive him whom the emperor, the chief
person injured, was desirous to forgive : he asked
them how they could beg of God the pardon of their
own sins if they did not pardon a man who then, by
repentance, was perhaps a saint in the eyes of God.
At this discourse not a single person in the church
was able to refrain from tears, and all things seemed
in a state of tranquillity. Some days after, Eutropius
left the church, hoping to escape privately out of the
city, but was seized, and banished into Cyprus. He
was ivcalled a few months after, and being impeached
of high -treason was condemned and beheaded, chiefly
at the instigation of Gainas ; in compliance with
whose unjust demands the weak emperor consented
to the death of Aurelianus and Saturninus, two prin
cipal lords of his court. But St. Chrysostom, by
several journeys, prevailed with the barbarian to
ccntent himself with their banishment, which they
ST. JOHN CHRTSOSTOM. 519
under wei-t, but were soon after recalled. As unjust
concessions usually make rebels the more insolent,
Gainas hereupon obliged the emperor to declare him
commander-in-chief of all his troops. Yet even when
his pride and power were at the highest, St. Chry-
sostom refused him the use of any Catholic church
in Constantinople for the A nan worship. And when,
some time after, he laid siege to that capital, the
saint went out to him, and by kind expostulations
prevailed on him to withhold his design and draw
off his army. He was afterwards defeated in passing
the Hellespont; and fleeing through the country of
the Huns, was overthrown, and slain by them in 400.
This same year, 400, St. Chrysostom held a council
of bishops in Constantinople ; one of whom had
preferred a complaint against his metropolitan Anto
ninus, the archbishop of Ephesus, which consisted of
several heads, but that chiefly insisted on was simony.
All our saint s endeavors to discuss this affair being
frustrated by the distance of places, he found it
necessary, at the solicitation of the clergy and people
of Ephesus, to go in person to that city, though the
(severity of the winter season, and the ill state of health
he was then in, might be sufficient motives for retard
ing this journey. In this and the neighboring cities
several councils were held, in which the archbishop
tf Ephesus and several other bishops in Asia, Lycia,
and riirygia, were deposed for simony. Upon" hia
620 81 JOHN CHKYPOSTOM.
return after Easter, in 401, having been absent *
hundred days, he preached the next morning, calling
his people, in the transports of tender joy, his crown,
his glory, his paradise planted with flourishing trees;
but if any bad shrubs should be found in it, he
promised that no pains should be spared to change
them into good. He bid them consider if they
rejoiced so much as they testified, to see him again
who was only one, how great his joy must be which
was multiplied in every one of them : he calls himself
their bond-slave, chained to tliir service, but says,
that slavery was his delight, and that during his
absence he ever had them present to his mind, offer
ing up his prayers for their temporal and spiritual
welfare.
It remained that our saint should glorify God by
his sufferings, as he had already done by his labors :
and if we contemplate the mystery of the cross with
the eyes of faith, we shall find him greater in the
persecutions he sustained than in all the other occur
rences of his life. At the same time we cannot
sufficiently deplore the blindness of envy and pride
in his enemies, as in the Pharisees against Christ
himself. We ought to tremble for ourselves : *f that
passion does not make us persecute a Chrysostom,
it may often betray us into rash judgments, aver^ionsi
and other sins, even under a cloak of virtue. The
fiist open adversary of our saint was Severianus.
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 521
bishop of Gabala, in Syria, to whom the s^int had
left the care of his church during his absence. This
man had acquired the reputation of a preacher, was
a favorite of the empress Eudoxia, and had employed
all his talents and dexterity to establish himself it,
the good opinion of the court and people, to the
prejudice of the saint, against whom he hfid preached
in his own city. Severianus being obliged to leave
Constantinople at the saint s return, he made an
excellent discourse to his flock on the peace Christ
came to establish on earth, and begged they would
receive again Severianus, whom they had expelled
the city. Another enemy of the saint was Theophi-
lus, patriarch of Alexandria, whom Sozomen, Socrates,
Palladius, St. Isidore of Pelusium, and Synesius, ac
cuse of avarice and oppressions to gratify his vanity
in building stately churches ; of pride, envy, revenge,
dissimulation, and an uncontrollable love of power
and rule, by which he treated other bishops as his
slaves, and made his will the rule of justice. His
three paschal letters, which have reached us, show that
he wrote without method, and that his reflections and
reasonings were neither just nor apposite : whence the
loss of his other writings, is not much to be regretted.
Those spiritual vices sullied his zeal against the An-
thropomorphites, and his other virtues. He died in
412, wishing that he had lived always in a desert,
honoring the name of the holy Chrysostom, whose
522 ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
picture he caused to be brought to his bedside, and
by reverencing it, showed his desire to make atone
ment for his past ill conduct towards our saint. This
turbulent man had driven from their retreat fou.
abbots of Nitria, called the tall brothers, on a ground
e** suspicion of Origenism, as appears from Palladius,
though it wis believed by St. Jerom, which is main
tained by Baroning. Si. Chrysostom admitted them
to communion, but not till they had juridically cleared
themselves of it in an ample manner. This however
was grievously resented by Theophilus : but the em
press Eudoxia, who, after the disgrace of Eutropius,
governed her husband and the empire, was the main
spring which moved the whole conspiracy against the
saint. Zozimus, a heathen historian, says, that her
flagrant avarice, her extortions and injustices, knew no
bounds, and that the court was filled with informers,
calumniators, and harpies, who, being always on the
watch for prey, found means to seize the estates of
such as died rich, and to disinherit their children or
other heirs. No wonder that a saint should displease
such a court while he discharged his duty to God.
lie had preached a sermon against the extravagance
and vanity of women in dress and pomp. This was
pretended by some to have been levelled at the em
press ; and Severianus was not wanting to blow the
coals. Knowing Theophilus was no friend to the
saint, the empress, to be revenged of the supposed
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 523
affront, sent to desire his presence at Constantinople,
in order to depose him. He obeyed the summons
with pleasure, and landed at Constantinople in June,
403, with several Egyptian bishops his creatures,
refused to see or lodge with John, and got together
a packed cabal of thirty-six bishops, the saint s ene
mies, in a church at Chalcedon, calling themselves
the synod at the Oak, from a great tree which gave
name to that quarter of the town. The heads of the
impeachment drawn up against the holy bishop were:
that he had deposed a deacon for beating a servant;
that he had called several of his clergy base men ; had
deposed bishops out of his province ; had ordained
priests in his domestic chapel, instead of the cathe
dral; had sold things belonging to the church; that
nobody knew what became of his revenues ; that he
ate alone ; and that he gave the holy communion to
persons who were not fasting : all which were false or
frivolous. The saint held a legal council of forty
bishops in the city at the same time; and refused to
appear before that at the Oak, alleging most noto
rious infractions of the canons in their pretended
council. The cabal proceeded to a sentence of depo-
nition, which they sent to the city and to the emperor,
tc whom they also accused him of treason, for having
called i he empress Jezabel, a false assertion, as Palla
dia* estifies. The emperor hereupon issued out an
order for his banishment, but the execution of it was
524 ST JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
opposed by the people, who assembled about the
great church to guard their pastor. He made them a
farewell sermon, in which he spoke as follows : " Vio
lent storms encompass me on all sides ; vet I am
without tear, because I stand upon a rock. Though
the sea roar, mid the waves rise high, they cannot
Rink the vessel of Jesus. I fear not death, which is
my gain : nor banishment, for the whole earth is the
Lord s : nor the loss of goods ; for I came naked into
the world, and must leave it in the same condition.
I despise all the terrors of the world, and trample
upon its smiles and favor. Nor do I desire to live
unless for your service. Christ is with me: whom
shall I fear ? Though waves rise against me : though
the sea, though the fury of princes threaten me, all
these are to me more contemptible than a spider s
web. I always say : Lord, may thy will be dene :
not what this or that creature wills, but what it shall
please thee to appoint, that shall I do and suffer with
joy. This is my strong tower : this is my unshaken
rock : this is my staff that can never fail. If God be
pleased that it be done, let it be so. Wheresoever
his will is that I be, I return him thanks." He de
clared that he was ready to lay down a thousand
lives for them, if at his disposal, and that he suffered
only because he had neglected nothing to save their
Bouls. On the third day after the unjust sentence
given against him, having received repeated orden
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 525
from the emperor to go into banishment, and taking
all possible care to prevent a sedition, he surrendered
himself, unknown to the people, to the count, who
conducted him to Prsenetum in Bithynia. After his
departure his enemies entered the city with guards,
and Severianus mounted the pulpit, and began to
preach, pretending to show the deposition of the saint
to have been legal and just. But the people would
not suffer him to proceed, and ran about as if dis
tracted, loudly demanding in a body the restoration
of their holy pastor. The next night the city was
shook with an earthquake. This brought the empress
to reflect with remorse on what she had done against
the holy bishop. She applied immediately to the
emperor, under the greatest consternation, for his
being recalled ; crying out : " Unless John be recalled,
our empire is undone :" and with his consent she dis
patched letters the same night, inviting him home
with tender expressions of affection and esteem, and
protesting her ignorance of his banishment. Almost
all the city went out to meet him, and great numbers
of lighted torches were carried before him. He stop
ped in the suburbs, refusing to enter the city till he
aad been declared innocent by a more numerous
tssembly of bishops. But the people would suffer
oo delay : the enemies of the saint fled, and he re
sumed his functions, and preached to his flock. He
pressed the emperor to call Theophilus to a legal
526 ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
synod : but that ahstinate persecutor alleged f /iat h
could not return *v>tho*t danger of his life ]j jwever,
Sozomen relates that threescore bishop? ratified hi*
return but the fair weather old n ji k.st long. A
silver statue of the empress having been erected on a
pillar before the great church of St. Sophia, the
dedication of it was celebrated with public games,
which, besides disturbing the divine service, engaged
the spectators in extravagances and superstition. St.
Chrysostom had often preached against licentious
shows ; and the very place rendered these the more
criminal. On this occasion, fearing lest his silence
should be construed ?.z an approbation of the thing,
he, with his usual f/r^dom and courage, spoke loudly
against it. Though this could only affect the Mani-
chaean overseer of those games, the vanity of the
empress made her take the affront to herself, and her
desires of revenge were implacable. His enemies
were invited back : Thecphilus durst not come, but
sent three deputies. Though St. John had forty-two
bishops with him, this second cabal urged to the
emperor certain canons of an Arian council of Anti-
och, made only to exclude St. Athanasius, by which
it was ordained that no bishop who had been deposed
by a synod, should return to his see till he was re
stored by another synod. This false plea overruled
the justice of the saint s cause, and Arcadius sent him
ftu order to withdraw. He refused to forsake a church
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 527
committed U him by God, unless forcibly compelled
to leave it. The emperor sent troops to drive the
people out of the churches on Holy-Saturday, and
the holy places were polluted with blood and all
manner of outrages. The saint wrote to pope Inno
cent, begging him to declare void all that had been
done ; for no injustice could be more notorious. He
also wrote to beg the concurrence of certain other
holy bishops of the West. The pope having received
from Theophilus the acts of the false council at the
Oak, even by them saw the glaring injustice of its
proceedings, and wrote to him, exhorting him to ap
pear in another council, where sentence should be
given according to the canons of N"ice, meaning by
those words to condemn the Arian canons of Antioch.
He also wrote to St. Chrysostom, to his flock, and sev
eral of his friends : and endeavored to redress these
evils by a new council : as did also the emperor Hono-
rius. But Arcadius and Eudoxia found means to pre
vent its assembling, the very dread of which made
Theophilus, Severianus, and other ringleaders of the
faction to tremble.
St. Chrysostom was suffered to remain at Constan
tinople two months after Easter. On Thursday, in
Wlntsun-week, the emperor sent him an order for his
banishment. The holy man, who received it in the
church, said to those about him, "Come, let us pray,
and take leave of the angel of the church.." He took
528 ST. JOHN CHRYSOS10M.
leave of the bishops, and, stepping into the baptistery,
also of St. Olympias and the other deaconesses, who
were overwhelmed with grief and bathed in tears.
He then retired privately out of the church, to pre
vent a sedition, and was conducted by Lucius, a brutish
captain, into Bithynia, and arrived at Nice on the
20th of June, 404. After his departure, a fire break
ing out, burnt down the great church and the senate-
house, two building s which were the glory of the city:
but the baptistery was spared by the flames, as it were
to justify the saint against his calumniators ; for not
one of the rich vessels was found wanting. In this
senate-house perished the incomparable statues of the
muses from Helicon, and other like ornaments, the
most valuable then known : so that Zozimus looks
upon this conflagration as the greatest misfortune that
had ever befallen that city. Palladius ascribes the
fire to the anger of heaven. Many of the saint s
friends were put to the most exquisite tortures on this
account, but no discovery could be made. The Isau-
rians plundered Asia, and the Huns several other pro
vinces. Eudoxia ended her life and crimes in childbed
on the 6th of October following, five days after a
furious hail-storm had made a dreadful havoc in the
city. The emperor wrote to St. Nilus, to recommend
himself and his empire to his prayers. The hermit
answered him with a liberty of speech which became
one who neither hoped nor feared any thing from th
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 52 f
world. " How do you hope," said he, " to see Con
stantinople delivered from the destroying angel of God,
after such enormities authorized by laws ? after having
banished the most blessed John, the pillar of the
church, the lamp of truth, the trumpet of Jesui
Christ ! " And again : " You have banished John, the
greatest light of the earth : At least, do not perse
vere in your crime." His brother, the emperor Hono-
rius, wrote still in stronger terms, and several others.
But in vain ; for certain implacable court ladies and
sycophants, hardened against all admonitions and
remorse, had much too powerful an ascendant over
the unhappy emperor, for these efforts of the saint s
friends to meet with success. Arsacius, his enemy and
persecutor, though naturally a soft and weak man, was
by the emperor s authority intruded into his see.
The saint enjoyed himself comfortably at Nice : but
Cucusus was pitched upon by Eudoxia for the place
of his banishment. He set out from Nice in July,
404, and suffered incredible hardships from heats,
fatigues, severity of guards, almost perpetual watch-
ings, and a fever which soon seized him with pains in
his breast. He was forced to travel almost all night,
deprived of every necessary of life, and was wonder
fully refreshed if he got a little clear water to drink,
*Vesh bread to eat, or a bed to take a little rest upon.
All he lamented was the impenitence of his enemies,
for their own sake : calling impunity in sin, and honot
530 ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
conferred by men on that account, the most dreadful
of all judgments. About the end of August, after a
rseventy days journey, he arrived at Cucusus, a poor
town in Armenia, in the deserts of Mount Taurus.
The good bishop of the place vied with his people in
slewing the man of God the greatest marks of venera
tion and civility, and many friends met him there,
both from Constantinople and Antioch. In this place,
by sending missionaries and succors, he promoted the
conversion of many heathen countries, especially among
the Goths, in Persia and Phoenicia. He appointed
Constantius, his friend, a priest of Antioch, superior
of the apostolic missions in Phoenicia and Arabia.
The letters of Constantius are added to those of St.
Chrysostom. The seventeen letters of our saint to
St. Olympias might be styled treatises. He tells her,
" I daily exult and am transported with joy in my
heart under my sufferings, in which I find a hidden
treasure : and I beg that you rejoice on the same ac
count, and that you bless and praise God, by whose
mercy we obtain to such a degree the grace of suffer
ing." He often enlarges on the great evils and most
pernicious consequences of sadness and dejection of
spirit, which he calls "the worst of human evils, a
perpetual domestic rack, a darkness and tempest of
the mind, an interior war, a distemper which consumes
the vigor of the soul, and impairs all her faculties."
He shows that sickness is w he greatest of trials, a um
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 631
not of inaction, but of the greatest merit, the school
of all virtues, and a true martyrdom. He advises he?
to use physic, and says it would be a crim nal impa
tience to wish for death to be freed from sufferings.
He laments the fell of Pelagius, whose heresies he
abhorred. He wrote to this lady his excellent treatise,
That no one can hurt him who docs not hurt himself.
Arsacius dying in 405, many ambitiously aspired to
that dignity, whose very seeking it was sufficient to
prove them unworthy. Atticus, one of this number,
a violent enemy to St. Chrysostom, was preferred by
the court, and placed in his chair. The pope refused
to hold communion with Theophilus or any of the
abettors of the persecution of our saint. He and
the emperor Honorius sent five bishops to Constanti
nople to insist on a council, and that, in the mean
time, St. Chrysostom should be restored to his see, his
deposition having been notoriously unjust. But the
deputies were cast into prison in Thrace, because they
refused to communicate with Atticus. The perse
cutors saw that, if the council was held, they would
be inevitably condemned and deposed by it, therefore
they stuck at nothing to prevent its meeting. The
incursions of the Isaurian plunderers obliged St. Chrv-
sostom to take shelter in the castle of Arabissus, on
Mount Taurus. He enjoyed a tolerable state of health
during the year 406 and the winter following, though
it was extremely cold in those mountains, so that th
532 ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
Armenians were surprised to see how his thin, weak
body was able to support it. When the Isaurians had
quitted the neighborhood, he returned to Cucusus
But his impious enemies, seeing the whole Christian
world both honor and defend him, resolved to rid the
world of him. With this view they procured an order
from the emperor that he should be removed to Ara-
bissus, and thence to Pytius, a town situated on the
Euxine sea, near Colchis, at the extremity of the
empire, on the frontiers of the Sarmatians, the most
barbarous of the Scythians. Two officers were ordered
to convey him thither in a limited number of days,
through very rough roads, with a promise of promo
tion, if, by hard usage, he should die in their hands.
One of these was not altogether destitute of humanity,
but the other could not bear to hear a mild word
spoken to him. They often travelled amidst scorch
ing heats, from which his head, that was bald, suffered
exceedingly. In the most violent rains they forced
him out of doors, obliging him to travel till the water
ran in streams down his back and bosom. When
they arrived at Coin ana Pontica, to Cappadocia, he
was very sick ; yet was hurried five or six miles to the
martyrium or chapel in which lay the relics of the
martyr St. Basiliscus. The saint was lodged in the
oratory of the priest. In the night, that holy martyr
appearing to him, said, " Be of good courage, brothel
John; to-morrow we shall be too-ether." The con
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 533
fessor was filled with joy at this news, and begged
that he might stay there till eleven o clock. This
made the guards drag him out the more violently ;
but when they had travelled four miles, perceiving
him in a dying condition, they brought him back to
the oratory. He there changed all his clothes to his
very shoes, putting on his best attire, which was all
white, as if he meant it for his heavenly nuptials. He
was yet fasting, and having received the holy sacra
ment, poured forth his last prayer, which he closed
with his usual doxology : Glory be to God for all
things. Having said Amen, and signed himself with
the sign of the cross, he sweetly gave up his soul to
God on the feast of the exaltation of the holy cross,
the fourteenth of September, as appears from the
Mensea, in 407, having been bishop nine years and
almost seven months.
His remains were interred by the body of St. Basi
liscus, a great concourse of holy virgins, monks, and
persons of all ranks from a great distance flocking to
his funeral. The pope refused all communion with
those who would not allow his name a place in the
Dvptics or registers of Catholic bishops deceased.
J i ^> I
It was inserted at Constantinople by Atticus, in 417,
nd at Alexandria, by St. Cyril, in 419 ; for Nestorius
tells him that he then venerated the ashes of John
against his well. His body was translated to Constan
tinople in 434, by St. Proclus, with the utmost pomp,
534 ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
the emperor Theodosius and nis sister Pulcheria accoin-
panying St. Proclus in the procession, and begging
pardon for the sins of their parents, who had unad
visedly persecuted this servant of God. The precious
remains were laid in the church of the apostles, the
bury ing- pi ace of the emperors and bishops, on the
27th of January, 438; on which day he is honored
by the Latins : but the Greeks keep his festival on the
13th of November. His ashes were afterwards car
ried to Home, and rest under an altar which bears
his name in the Vatican church. The saint was low
in stature ; and his thin, mortified countenance bespoke
the severity of his life. The austerities of his youth,
his cold solitary abode in the mountains, and the
fatigues of continual preaching, had weakened his
breast, which occasioned his frequent distempers. But
the hardships of his exile were such as must have
destroyed a person of the most robust constitution.
Pope Celestine, St. Austin, St. Nilus, St. Isidore of
Pelusium, and others, call him the illustrious doctor
of churches, whose glory shines on every side, who
fills the earth with the light of his profound sacred
learning, and who instructs by his works the remotest
corners of the world, preaching everywhere, even
where his voice could not reach. They style him the
wise interpreter of the secrets of God, the sun of the
whole universe, the lamp of virtue, and the most
shining star of the earth. The incomparable writing!
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 535
of this glorious saint, make his standing and mosi
authentic eulogium.
In the character which St. Chrysostom has in several
places drawn of divine and fraternal charity and holy
zeal, we have a true portraiture of his holy soul. He
excellently shows, from the words of our Lord to St.
Peter, that the primary and essential disjwsition of a
pastor of souls is a pure and most ardent love of God,
whose love for these souls is so great, that he has
delivered his Son to death for them. Jesus Christ
shed his blood to save this flock, which he commits
to the care of St. Peter. Nothing can be stronger
or more tender than the manner in which this saint
frequently expresses his charity and solicitude for his
spiritual children. When he touches this topic, his
words are all fire and flame, and seem to breathe the
fervor of St. Peter, the zeal of St. Paul, and the
charity of Moses. This favorite of God was not afraid,
for the salvation of his people, to desire to be sepa
rated from the company of the saints, provided this
could have been done without falling from the love
of God; though he knew that nothing would more
closely unite him forever to God, than this extraordi
nary effort of his love. The apostle of nations desired
to be an anathema for his brethren, and for their
salvation; and the prince of the apostles gave the
.strongest proof of the ardor of his love for Christ, bj
the floods of tears which he shed for his flock. From
636 ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
the same furnace of divine love, St. Chrysostom dre*
the like sentiments towards his flock, -pined with a
sovereign contempt of all earthly things ; another dis
tinguishing property of charity, which he describes in
the following words : " Those who burn with a spir
itual love, consider as nothing all that is shining or
precious on earth. We are not to be suprised if we
understand not this language, who have no experience
of this sublime virtue. For whoever should be in
flamed with the fire of the perfect love of Jesus
Christ, would be in such dispositions with regard to
the earth, that he would be indifferent both to its
honors and to its disgrace, and would be no more
concerned about its trifles than if he was alone in the
world. He would despise sufferings, scourges, and
dungeons, as if they were endured in another s body,
not in his own ; and would be as insensible to the
pleasures and enjoyments of the world, as we are to
the bodies of the dead, or as the dead are to their
own bodies. He would be as pure from the stain of
any inordinate passions, as gold perfectly refined is
from all rust or spot. And as flies beware of falling
into the flames, and keep at a distance, so irregular
passions dare not approach him."
REMARKABLE ANECDOTES.
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES,
EASTERN SOLITARIES.
Extracted from Ancient Ecclesiastical Writers.
From the Third Book of tlie Lives of the Fathers,
BY RUFINUS.
1. AN ancient father said one day to his disciples
brethren, if we hate the repose of the present life, the
pleasures of the body, the gratification of its appetites,
and seek not the honor that is from man, the Lord
Jesus will then give us the honor and glory of heaven,
the repose of eternal life, and never ending joys with
his angels.
2. An ancient father, who had many years led an
iinchoretical life in the heart of the wilderness, in thfl
538 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
practice of extraordinary abstinences and coi tinual la
bors, being one day visited by some of his brethren
after admiring his patience and perseverance, they
asked him how he was able to endure so many trials
and great sufferings as he was obliged to undergo in
that dry and frightful solitude ? " brethren," said
he, " all the labors and sufferings of the many years
I have been here are not comparable to one hour of
suffering in the flames of hell ; wherefore, in order tc
escape them, we must cheerfully undergo the hard
ships and labors of the short time of our mortal life.
We must mortify ourselves here, that we may find
never-ending rest hereafter in the happy mansions of
the world to come."
3. The emperor Theodosius having heard that a
certain religious hermit lived a recluse and penitential
life in a small cell near the suburbs of Constantinople,
and being desirous to see this servant of God, he went
one day alone to his cell and knocked at the door.
The hermit having let him in, they, according to the
custom of the religious in their visits, first made their
prayer together, and then sat down. The emperor
inquired of him concerning the employment and
manner of living of the holy fathers in Egypt. They
all pray, said the hermit, for your salvation. Theodo
sius looked about to see what he had in his cell, and
discovering nothing but some dry bread in a basket,
he said : father, give me your benediction, and let us
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 53?
sh ourselves together. The hermit put some salt
into water, and then soaked the dry bread in it, of
which they made their meals together, and when they
had done, he presented the emperor with a cup of
water. Theodosius said to him : Do you know who I
am ? God knows who you are, said the hermit. " I
am Theodosius the emperor," said he, " and I came
hither to be edified by you. how happy are you
solitaries, who being altogether free and disengaged
from worldly cares and occupations, enjoy a calm and
quiet life, having no other solicitude but for the salva
tion of your souls, nor any other thoughts but how to
make yourselves worthy of the heavenly rewards of
that life, and kingdom to come, that knows no end.
But I, though born to the purple, and seated on the
imperial throne, declare to you in truth, that I never
sit down to my meals without having some cares upon
my mind." Having said this, and testified a great
deal of honor and esteem for the servant of God, he
returned home. But the hermit suspecting, that in
consequence of this visit from the emperor, a great
number of all conditions, not excepting even the court
iers and senators, would be frequently coming to inter
rupt his devotion ; and being also apprehensive lest he
should come at length to take a complacency in their
isits, and in the honors they would show him, and
thus fall, by degrees, into the nets of Satan, by pride
and vain-glory, in order to secure himself from the
540 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
danger, he departed that very night, and made the
best of his way into Egypt, where he associated him-
celt 1 with the holy fathers of the Egyptian deserts.
4. Amongst the many holy inhabitants of the
Egyptian deserts, there was an ancient anchoret named
Agatho, who was much admired for his extraordi
nary patience and humility. Some of the brethren,
with the design of putting his virtue to a trial, went
one day to his cell and complained of the scandal his
pride and self-conceit had given by his contempt of
others, setting them at nought, and taking the liberty
to censure and detract them, and all this, said they,
because, being yourself vicious and given to lewdness,
you think to disguise your own vices by charging
them upon others. The holy man heard all they
said without discovering the least emotion or disturb
ance of soul, or denying any part of the charge ; on
the contrary, casting himself at their feet, he confess
ed himself to be indeed a most grievous sinner, and
begged they would be so charitable as to intercede to
our Lord for a poor miserable wretch, loaded as he
was with so many crimes, to the end he might obtain
mercy and forgiveness for them through the assistance
of their prayers. But, said they, we must tell you
moreover, that some people say you are also a heretic.
O no, said the Saint, however wretched I am in other
respects, or how guilty soever I may be of innumera
ble other sins, I am not so great a wretch as to forfeit
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 541
my share in Jesus Christ by heresy ; far be this
thought from my soul ! The brethren hereupon cast
ing themselves at his feet, desired to know why he,
who had suffered so many other false accusation?,
without the least emotion or resistance, showed so
much horror and so great a repugnance at being ae-
cused of heresy \ The man of God answered, that
as to the other accusations, it was the part of humility
to love to be despised, and be willing to pass for a
grievous sinner* to bear also with reproaches .and
calumnies, after the example of Jesus Christ himself,,
who suffered in silence such treatment as this from the
Jews for our instruction ; but that there. was a particu
lar enormity and malignity in heresy, which is an ob
stinate opposition to the revealed truths of God, by
means whereof the soul is separatee) in such manner
from Jesus Christ, as to destroy faith, the very foun
dation of its salvation, and is given up as it were to
the devil, without reserve ; therefore, as no one ought
to be willing to pass for an obstinate enemy of Jesus
Christ, or of any of his revealed truths, so no one
ought to be willing to pass for a heretic.
5. There was in a certain monastery of Egypt a
monk named Eulalius, endued in an extraordinary de
gree with the grace of humility. As there were not
wanting in that numerous community several luke
warm brethren, who .had been guilty of frequent
faults and negligences, ..particularly in breaking or de-
&42 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
R troy ing the earthen vessels and other utensils of the
rnonasteiy, they were accustomed to lay all upon Eula-
lius, whom they found ever ready to bear the blame.
On these occasions the superiors often took him to task,
whilst he, instead of pleading not guilty, prostrated
himself before them, and begged pardon for his faults
and negligences. The rule of the monastery enjoined
penances for these faults, which he cheerfully under
went, even to the passing often two or three days to
gether without eating. But as fresh accusations still
were brought against him, the ancient religious, who
were ignorant that he endured all this for the sake of
Christ, and for the exercise of his patience and humil
ity, represented to the abbot, that as they found no
amendment in Eulalius, it became necessary to think
of taking some other course with him, since by his
neo-licrences most of the utensils of the house were
& S
already destroyed, and that there would be no keep
ing any thing whole in the monastery so long as he
remained amongst them. The abbot desired some
time to consider on the manner, and in the mean
while begging light of heaven to direct him, he learnt
from God in prayer the extraordinary merit, patience,
and humility of Eulalius, which his divine Majesty was
also pleased, not long after, to declare by a miracle, in
the presence of all the religious. Upon this the
brethren began to esteem him as a saint, and to honor
and praise him as such on all occasions, which became
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 543
to sensible a mortification to this humble servant of
God, that he heavily complained of his misfortune in
having now lost as he said, the treasure of humility,
which by the grace of Christ he had for so long a
time been laboring to acquire. At length, to fly from
all this honor and esteem, he withdrew himself pri
vately by night from the monastery into a desert,
where he might be unknown to all men, and there
chose a lonesome cave for his habitation, in which he
spent the remainder of the days of his mortality, in
order to guard his humility from those dangers to
which it was before exposed in the midst of applause
and esteem.
6. A certain solitary having come one day to the
monastery of abbot Sylvanus, on mount Sinai, and
finding the brethren all at work, said to them : Why
do you labor for the meat that perisheth ? did not
Mary choose the better part ? The abbot turning to
his disciple Zacharias, bid him hand that brother a
book, and conduct him to an empty cell. When the
hour came at which the monks were accustomed to
take their meal, viz. about three in the afternoon, the
stranger was incessantly looking out, in expectation
that the abbot would send for him to the refectory ;
but finding that the hour had passed, and no one came
to call him, he went and asked the abbot if the monks
did not dine that day ? He told him, yes, they had
dined ; but that, as for his part, they had not sent fo*
544 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
him, because they understood he was a spiritual man*
and had no need of the meat that perisheth ; whereas
t,hey, being carnal, and standing in need of food, were
under a necessity of laboring for it ; but you have,
said he, with Mary, chosen the better part by reading
the whole day long, without requiring this perishable
food. The brother having begged pardon, and ac
knowledged his error, the abbot desired him to re
member, that as Martha wanted the assistance of
Mary, so Mary could not do alone, without the help
of Martha.
7. Abbot Moses was accustomed to say, that as
when a general besieges a city he endeavors to prevent
any provisions being brought to the besieged, in order
that through hunger and want the enemy may be
obliged to deliver up their city ; so the man that de
sires to overcome his carnal passions, must starve then*
out by fasting and abstinence.
8. A certain religions man having received an in
jury from another, came to complain of it to one of
the ancient fathers. The old man bid him, on this
and the like occasions, to think with himself that the
injury or affront was not levelled at him, but at hia
sins ; and advised him to sit down contented, and to
sav, all this is for my sins.
9. Another good brother, when any perscn affront
ed him, scoffed at him, or injured him, used to rejoice
and to say : these are my friends who are giving ma
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 545
an opportunity of advancing in virtue ; whereas they
that extol and applaud us are rather our enemies ac
cording to that of Isaiah, iii. 12. : my people, they
that call thce blessed, the same deceive thee, and des
troy the way of thy steps.
10. A brother having asked an ancient father fo
give him some short prescription by the observance of
which he might be saved. The father told him the
best prescription he could give for the security of his
soul, was to overcome himself so far as to bear the
greatest injuries and reproaches with meekness and
silence.
11. St. Macarius used to say, He that overcomes
himself in all things is a monk indeed. For if a per
son, whilst he corrects or rebukes another for his faults,
suffers himself to be moved to anger, he is only grati
fying his own passion. No one ought to run the risk
of losing his own soul, whilst he pretends to save that
of another.
12. The abbot Sylvanus, being asked by certain
brethren to speak something for their edification, de
sired his disciple Zacharias to give them a lesson.
The disciple taking off his outward habit, laid it upon
the ground, and stamped with his feet upon it, saying :
" No one can be a truly religious man who is not will
ing to be trodden under foot in this manner."
13. Some of the brethren having extolled, in tho
hearing of St. Antony, the virtues of one of the monks,
546 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
the Saint, putting him to a trial, found that he could
not bear an injury ; whereupon the man of God told
him, that he resembled a building which had a beau
tiful front, but which lay open behind to thieves and
robbers.
14. It was observed by one of the fathers, that all
the labors of a monk are vain without humility ; for
since humility, said he, is the forerunner of charity, as
John the Baptist was the precursor of Christ, drawing
all to him, so in like manner humility draws men to
charity, that is, to God himself; for God is charity,
1 John iv.
15. St. Antony having seen one day in a vision the
whole earth as a large field, covered on every side
with the nets and snares of the enemy ; whereupon
sighing, he cried out, who shall be able to pass over
them, or escape them ? and immediately he heard a
voice answering, Humility alone can pass secure.
16. A monk in a certain monastery having com
mitted a fault, for which he was severely rebuked bj
the rest of the brethren, went away to St. Antony.
The brethren having followed him thither in order to
bring him back, they warmly upbraided him with his
faults, in the presence of the Saint, which he, on his
part, as warmly denied. The holy abbot Paphnucius,
Rurnamed Cephala, happening to be present, put a
stop to the contention, by the means of a parable :
" Whilst I stood one day on the banks of a river, 1
ATHmtlSMS AND EXAMPLES. 54*?
saw a man sunk into the mire up to his knees, wheh
behold there came other men stretching out theii
hands, endeavoring to help him out ; but instead oi
succeeding in their attempt, they pushed him further
in, even up to the neck." St. Antony hearing the
parable, and approving of the moral lesson it convey
ed, said of St. Paphnucius : " Behold a man who has
the right notion of the way of reclaiming the faulty,
arid of saving their souls." The brethren presently
took the hint, and begging pardon tor their heat, re
ceived the brother in the tender b( vels of the mercy
of Jesus Christ.
17. St. Pemen, alias Pastor, gave it as an invariable
rule to his disciples : " Never to do their own will, but
rather humble themselves to do the will of their neigh
bors."
18. A certain anchoret, who dwelt in a cave not far
distant from a religious community in great absti
nence and sanctity of life, being one day visited by
some of the monks, they prevailed on him to eat be
fore his usual time, and then asked him if it was no
pain or trouble to him to be put out of his way, by
eating contrary to his custom ? " No," replied he,
u nothing gives me pain or trouble but following my
own will."
19. The holy abbot Agatho coming one day into
the neighboring city to sell his work, found a certain
stranger lying in a bye corner very sick, without an*
548 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
one to take care of him ; the servant of God, on be
holding so great an object of charity, instead of return
ing back to the wilderness, hired a lodging in the city,
to which he carried the sick man, and attended on
him for the space of four months, working in the mean
time with his own hands, in order to procure for him
all necessaries, aid, and comfort ; after which, the sick
man being now perfectly recovered, the Saint returned
back again to his cell.
20. An ancient servant of God, on seeing his disci
ple sick, bid him be of good comfort, and return thanks
to God for this visitation : " For," said he, " if thou
art but iron, the fire will serve to take the rust away
from thec ; and if thou art gold, it will refine tbee, and
purify thee. Resign thyself then, my dear brother ;
tor since it hath pleased God to send thee this sick
ness, who art thou that thou shouldest grieve or re
pine at the accomplishment of his will ? rather suf
fer all with patience and resignation, and let thy only
prayer be, that God would deal with thee according to
his pleasure."
21. An ancient religious, who was accustomed to be
visited with sickness, happening to pass one wholo
year without any illness, he wept and grieved exceed
ingly, saying, " Lord, thou hast forsaken me, for thou
hast not once visited me this year." O what a jus*
notion he must have had of the inestimable value a
patient sufferings.
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 549
22. When the holy abbot Agatho was drawing
rear to his end, and had lain for the space of three
days with his eyes fixed, in silence, some of the breth
ren touching him, said : " Father, where are you now ?"
He answered, " I am standing before the judgment
seat of God." " Why then," said they, " are you
afraid ? " " According to the utmost of my power,"
replied he, " I have always endeavored to keep the
commandments of my God ; but being a poor frail
mortal, how do I know whether my works are pleas
ing to him or not?" "But do you not trust," said
they, " that they are pleasing to him ? " "I dare not
trust to my works," said he, " in his sight ; for the
judgment of God is very different from the judgment
of men."
23. A certain brother having asked one of the fath
ers how the soul might attain to perfect humility : he
answered, " by thinking only on her own evils, and
not on those of others."
24. Nothing gives so much pleasure to the enemy,
said the abbot Pemen, as when a person will not dis
cover his temptations to his superior or director.
25. A certain father observed, that as the flies can
not come near a pot that is boiling hot, but only rest
on such things as are neither hot nor cold, and there
deposit their maggosts : so the devils are kept at a
distance by such religious as are quite fervent in tho
love and service of God, but have so great a powes
650 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
over such as are but lukewarm, as to defile and cor
rupt them with sin.
26. An ancient father gave the following lesson to
his disciple : " Think every day," said he, u that the
hour of thy death is at hand, and as if thou weii
already shut up in thy tomb, be not solicitous abou
this world. Let the fear of God continually abide
\\ith thee. Believe thyself to be inferior to every one.
Speak no evil of any one because God knows all
things ; and be at peace with all men, and the Lord
shall at all times give rest to thy soul."
27. Abbot John used to say, that a religious in his
cell ought to resemble one sitting under a tree ; for as
the latter, on seeing any wild beast or serpent coming
towards him, climbs up the tree, that he may get out
of their reach ; so the former, on perceiving any evil
thoughts approaching, ought to ascend up to God by
the tree of prayer.
28. Some of the brethren coming one day to visit
the holy abbot Lucius, he inquired of them what kind
of work, they followed ? They answered ; they did
not work, but, according to the Apostles, prayed with
out ceasiny. " But do you not eat and sleep," said the
&ther, " and who prays for you then ? " To which
having made no reply, " Now, I will tell you," said
he, "the manner in which I endeavor to pray withou
ceasiny, and yet never fail to work with my hands.
While! ( am making baskets, or cords, or the like, J
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 551
lay to my God : Have mercy on me, God, accord
ing to thy great mercies ; and according to the mul
titude of thy tender mercies blot out my iniquity.
Thus, when I have finished my work, I am enabled to
give some part of the price of it to the poor server, is
of Christ, to engage them thereby to pray for the tof-
giveness of my sins, even whilst I am eating or sleep
ing ; and thus they by praying for me, help to make
my prayer continual, and without ceasing."
29. A certain young man, desirous to embrace a
monastic life, was prevented from so doing for some
time by his mother; but as he still persevered in beg
ging her to let him go, by often repeating that he was
resolved to save his soul, she at length consented to
his entering into a monastery. Being admitted to the
habit, although an utter stranger to the spirit of relig
ion, he led for many years a very tepid and negligent
course of life. His mother having in the mean time
died, and he soon after falling grievously sick, lay for
some time in a trance, as if dead, in which he seemed
to be carried before the judgment seat of God, where
he met his mother amongst others expecting their
sentence. " How now, my son," said she to him,
" art thou also brought hither, to receive with us the
sentence of damnation ? What is become of that
specious determination of thine, which thou so often
repeatedst, that thou wast resolved to save thy soul ? *
The horror and confusion that oppressed him, upon
552 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
hearing this reproach from his mother, was so inex
pressible, that ho seemed to himself to stand, as it
were, upon the brink of hell, till he heard a voice, or
dering that he should be sent back again, as not being
the person called for, and that such another of a
neighboring monastery, that was of the same name,
should be brought thither. Hereupon, having come
to himself, he related to those about him all he had
seen and heard, and desired that one of them would
instantly go to the neighboring monastery and in
quire whether the brother alluded to was departed
this life, and being informed that he was just then
dead, they were confirmed in their belief of the truth
of what he had related. As to this young monk, no
sooner was he recovered from his sickness, than he
shut himself up in his cell, and applied himself with
such diligence to the care of his salvation, as to think
now of nothing else, but to weep night and day, and
do penance for his former negligences and sins ; and
although some of the brethren advised him to be
more moderate in his tears and other penances, lest
the excess of his compunction might prove prejudicial
to his health, he nevertheless persevered in his peni
tential labors to the end, telling them upon these oc
casions : " If I could not bear the reproach which I
heard from my mother, how shall I be able to endure
the reproaches of Christ and his angels at the day of
Judgment ? "
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 553
SO. A certain monk in the deserts of Egypt, having
had a sister that followed a wicked course of life in
the city, where she enticed many into sin, his brethren
persuaded him to go in search of her, in order to re
claim her from her wickedness, and rescue her soul, as
well as the souls of many others who were ensnared
by her beauty, from the paths that lead to eternal
perdition. When he came near the place where she
dwelt, one who knew him, ran and told her that her
brother was come from the desert to see her. Upon
hearing this she immediately left her company, and
going out with joy to meet him, offered to salute
him ; but lie keeping at a distance, earnestly besought
her to have pity on her soul, expatiating on the dread
ful state of life in which she was engaged, and th
dismal consequences she had to apprehend for eternity,
if she did not immediately return to God. This ex
hortation he delivered in so nervous and pathetic a
manner, that, seized with dread and horror, she asked
him, trembling, whether there remained any hopes of
salvation for her, and whether it was not now too late
for her to think of returning to God ? He assured
her it was not, provided she would be quite in earnest
in her application to the throne of divine mercy, by
the practice of true penance. Hereupon, casting her
self at his feet, she begged that he would take her
along with him into the desert, where she might do
penance for her sins. Go then, said he, and cover
5^ < REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
your head (for she had run forth to meet him bare
headed), and then come along with me. O brother,
said she, let us make no delay ; is it not better for me
to suffer the disgrace of going bareheaded, than ta
enter any more into a house that has been the shop
of my iniquities ? They therefore departed with speed
towards the desert, the brother preaching penance to
her on their way thither ; till observing some of the
brethren coming towards them, he desired her to step
aside, and keep at some distance, for fear of any one s
taking scandal at seeing him in the company of a wo
man ; for every one, said he, don t know that your are
my sister. She did so : and as soon as the brethren
had passed by, he went in search of her, and found
her lying dead on the ground, with her feet all bloody,
for she had walked the whole way barefoot. Having
lamented her death, he went and related all that had
happened to the ancient religious. Whilst these ser
vants of God were at a loss what judgment they
should make with regard to her soul, dying as she
did, so shortly after so sinful a life, without any time
to do penance, one of them learnt by revelation, that
she had forsaken all she had in the world, and been
solicitous for nothing but the healing of the wounds
1 of her soul, in a word, as she had so bitterly wept, and
grievously lamented her sins, the divine goodness bad
accepted her penance, and shown her mercy.
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 555
From the fifth Book of the Lives of the Fathers, translates
from the Greek of an ancient ecclesiastical Writer into
Latin, by Pelagius, Deacon of Rome, who was made
Pope, Anno 558.
31. WHEN the holy abbot John, surnamed the
Jhvarf, drew near his end, his disciples entreated him
to leave them, by way of legacy, some short whole
some lesson of Christian perfection, he sighed and said
to them : " I never followed my own will, nor did 1
ever teach any other what I had not first practised
myself.
32. Abbot Sisois being asked which was the best
way to obtain peace and rest for the soul, he replied :
" He contemptible in your own eyes cast pleasures
behind your back be free from all earthly cares, and
you shall assuredly find rest."
33. Another holy man prescribed for this end the
following precepts : u Pray incessantly to God that he
would grant you compunction and humility ; think
always on your own sins, and do not presume to jud^e
others ; be subject and obedient to all ; avoid fami
liarity with women, boys, or heretics ; place no con
fidence whatever in yourselves ; restrain your tongue
and your sensual appetite ; contend with no man ;
contradict no one in discourse, and your mind shall b
at peace. 1
556 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
34. A certain brother came to visit abbot Moses m
tlie desert of Scete, in order to learn of him the way
to perfection, * Go," said the Saint, " and keep thyself
retired and recollected in thy cell, and thy cell shall
teach thee all things."
35. Some brethren going from Scete to visit SU
Antony, entered into a boat that was to convey them
part of the way up the Nile, in which they found a
strange old man, who was also going to St. Antony.
Whilst they were entertaining each other, dining their
passage, with discourses upon different subjects, the old
man sat by himself in silence and recollection. Find
ing, when they came to land, that the old man was
also going to St. Antony, they went along with him.
St. Antony, on their arrival, told them they had met
with a good companion in that servant of God ; and
>ou, said he, father, addressing himself to the old
man, have found them good company. " I believe,"
replied he, " that they are good ; but having no door
to their dwelling, whoever pleases goes into the stable,
and takes out the beast to ride upon it ; " alluding to
their want of recollection, and setting no guard upon
their tongue, but uttering whatever came uppermost
in their mind.
86. An ancient religious seeing another laugh, said
" How can you laugh, since we must by and by ap
pear before the great Lord of heaven and earth, to
give a strict accow f , of our whole lives 2"
APHORISIMS AND EXAMPLES. 557
37. A certain gentleman came one clay tc the church
of the wilderness of Scete with a bag of money, which
he desired the priest, the superior, to distribute amongst
the brethren. The priest told him they did not want
it ; but as the gentleman became very pressing, and
would not be content except he would receive it, he
put the money into a basket, and setting it in the en
trance of the church cried out to the brethren : if amj
one wants, let him here take what he ivants : but so
for from touching it, some of them would not so much
as look on it. The superior then addressing the gen
tleman, said : " our Lord, Sir has accepted of your of
fering, go now and give it to the poor ; and thus lie
dismissed him, much edified with their disinterest
edness."
38. Another brought a sum of money to a brother,
who was a leper, saying : keep this for your own use,
because you are old and infirm. The old man an
swered : " would you then deprive me, Sir, of my nurs
ing father, who has fed me threescore years ? Behold
for so long a time, notwithstanding my infirmity, 1
have never been in want; for God has always provided
for me, therefore I cannot distrust him now."
39. The brethren having desired one of the ancient
fathers to remit something of his great labors and aus
terities, he answered: "believe me, my children, I am
of opinion, that Abraham himself when he saw the
greatness of the eternal towards of heaven, was sorry
558 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
he had not labored more than he did whilst lie re
niained here upon earth."
40. As a certain hermit, who dwelt in a cell near
the wilderness, at the distance of twelve miles from
any water, was one day going for water, he found him
self so much exhausted and tired with the journey,
that he began to blame himself for taking so much
unnecessary pains, and to think of changing his abode,
and building himself a cell near the spring. Whilst
he had this thought in his mind, he heard one behind
him numbering his steps ; and turning about, he saw
an angel, who told him he was commissioned from
heaven to take an exact account of his laborious steps,
which should all be hereafter rewarded. This vision
encouraged the good old man, and made him not only
give up his design of fixing his habitation near the
water, but also determined him to remove his cell to a
still further distance, since the divine goodness was
pleased to reward all his steps in so bountiful a
manner.
41. There was an ancient hermit in Thebais, who
dwelt in a cave, together with a virtuous young man,
his disciple. It was his custom to deliver an exhorta
tion to the young hermit every evening for his instruc
tion, direction, and progress in virtue and piety, and
after spending some time together in prayer, the old
man gave him his blessing, and sent him to bed. It
lappened one day, wben the servants of God had eii-
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 559
Pertained some visitors with discourses of piety till a
late hour, that after their departure, whilst he was
making his exhortation, as usual, to his disciple, he fell
fast asleep. The brother waited in expectation of the
father s awaking, that they might make their prayer,
according to custom, before he went to bed : but the
old man slept on so sound, as not to awake till after
midnight. In the mean time the young man, finding
he slept so long, and being wearied and sleepy him
self, WHS strongly tempted to leave him and retire to
bed : but he resisted the temptation, and continued to
remain with him. Shortly after the temptation re
turned, and became very troublesome to him ; but he
again got the better of it, and drove it away : and in
this manner was he violently assaulted seven different
times, but still overcame the temptation, and forced
himself to stay till his master awaked. After mid
night the father awaking, and finding the young dis
ciple with. him, asked him why he did not go to bed?
Because, replied he, you did not discharge me. Why
then, said the father did you not awake me ? I could
riot presume, said he, to disturb you. Wherefore, it
being now midnight rising up, they began their matins
together, and when tl.ey had finished, the father sent
mm to take his rest Whilst the old man was sitting
afterwards by himself, he fell into a trance or ecstasy,
when a stranger pointed out to him a glorious palace,
HI which was placed a throne, and over the throna
560 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
seven crowns, telling him that they were destined by
cur Lord as a reward for the virtue and piety of hia
disciple ; and that as to the seven crowns, he had pur
chased them that very night. The father having asked
him in the morning what he had done in the night?
he answered, nothing particular; but as he insisted
upon his telling him all that had passed, even to his
very thoughts, he at length assured him lie knew of
nothing whatever, except that he had been seven times
strongly tempted to leave him whilst he continued
asleep, and to retire to bed; but as he had not dis
charged him, according to custom, he had forced him
self to stay : hence the father was given to understand,
that every victory over one s self purchases a crown
from <od, and how much it imports to overcome our
selves, even in small matters.
42. St. Antony being told one day of a young re
ligious man who had been already so far favored with
miraculous gifts, that the very wild beasts of the des
ert obeyed him. The Saint, apprehending some os
tentation and pride in the manner of his proceeding,
said, he seems to resemble a ship richly laden, which
is in danger of being shipwrecked before it reaches the
haven. Not long after, the Saint being in company
with some of his disciples, began all on a sudden to
weep and lament, and being asked the reason, he ex
claimed, Oh ! a great pillar of the church is just now
fallen ; go ye and look after such a one, naming thi
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 561
fonng religious man. They went and found Kim in &
most, melancholy way, for having just then committed
a mortal sin ; but he begged they would desire their
holy father to cbtain for him by his prayers, a reprieve
of ten days, that in that time he might make satisfac
tion for his crime. But this was not granted him, for
within five days he was called out of this life.
43. When a certain brother came one day to visit
the holy abbot Serapion, he begged of him, according
to the custom of the ancient religious in their visits, to
give out the prayer which was to be made when they
first met ; which he refused, saying he was a poor sin
ner, and unworthy to wear the religious habit. In
like manner, when the Saint offered to wash his feet,
according to the custom, he would not permit him,
still alledging his great unworthiness. The holy man,
after having entertained him at table with what his
cell could afford, dismissed him with this charitable
?,dvice : " My son, if you desire to make due progress
in religion, return to your cell, and there, attending to
God and yourself, employ yourself in working with
your hands ; for coming abroad in this manner is not
so good for you as it would be to remain at home."
The brother on hearing these words was so much dis
turbed and offended, as to discover his displeasure and
resentment by the change of his countenance ; which
the holy abbot observing, said to him : " A little while
ago vou said you was a poor sinner, and accuse:! your-
562 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
self as one who were not worthy to tread upon the
earth, how comes it then that you are so much di$
turbed at the charitable admonition I have given you I
If you have a real desire to be humble, you must
learn to bear patiently the things that others lay upon
you, and not be ever saying reproachful things of your
self which you would not be willing another should
believe of you. * The brother having acknowledged
his fault departed, highly edified with the lessons he
received from the Saint.
44. When the holy abbot Moses being told that
the judge of the province, who had heard of his emi
nent sanctity, was coming to visit him in his cell in
the desert of Scete, the man of God to shun this visit
left his cell, and retired towards the marsh. In his
way he met the judge with his train, who not know
ing him, inquired of him where the cell of the abbot
Moses was ? Why do you inquire, said he, after that
worthless wretch? He is one that is void both of
sense and religion. Whereupon the judge went to
the church, and told the clergy that he came into the
desert rn purpose to visit abbot Moses, and to be edi-
oed by his conversation, but that he had met with an
old man who had given him a vile character. Pray,
sir, said they, what sort of a person was he who gave
so bad a character of that holy man ? A tall, black
man, said the judge, with his habit very much worn.
It w;is abbot Moses himself, said thev, who spot- t u*
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 563
af himself, to avoid being visited and honored by vou.
Upon hearing of which the judge departed very much
edified with the Saint s humility. This was that samt,
Moses who had ibrmerly been a captain of a band of
obbers, but who after his conversion became not only
n illustrious penitent, but so eminent in all virtue and
sanctity as to be raised to the dignity of a priest, and
superior of the holy monastery of Scete, and after his
death to be enrolled amongst the Saints. See the
Roman Martyrology, August twenty-eight.
45. A brother having committed a fault for which
he was expelled the convent of Abbot Elias, went to
Saint Antony on his mountain, and after remaining a
while with him he sent him back to the convent, but
the brethren refusing to receive him, he returned again
to Saint Antony. The Saint sent him back again the
second time with this message : " A ship that was cast
away at sea had lost all its cargo, but with much ado
the empty vessel has been drawn to the shore; and
would you, my brethren, after it has been thus brought
:o land go and sink it entirely ? " The brethren un
derstanding the meaning of the Saint presently com
plied, and received the brother again into their con
gregation.
4(3. Another brother had fallen into some sin, on
eceount of which the priest bid him go out of the
church ; whereupon the abbot Besarion, who was
present, rose up, and went out with him, saying, " I
664 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
also am a sinner as well as he." This was the great
Besarion, of whose extraordinary sanctity and wonder
ful miracles frequent mention is made in ancient
monuments, whose name is recorded in the Roman
Martyrology amongst the Saints on the seventeenth
of June.
47. A certain priest was accustomed to come from
time to time to the cell of a hermit who lived in tho
wilderness, to celebrate mass and to administer to him
the blessed sacrament, till at length it happened that
the man of God heard an ill report concerning tho
priest, and accordingly the next time he came he shut
the door against him and sent him away ; but he had
no sooner dismissed him than he heard a voice saying :
u Men have taken away the judgment that belongs to
me, and have arrogated it to themselves" After which
he was rapt in a kind of ecstasy or trance, in which he
saw a golden well full of most clear and excellent
water, with a chain and bucket of the same precious
metal, and a leper drawing up some of this water, and
pouring it out of the golden bucket into a clean vessel.
Now he seemed extremely desirous to drink of it, and
was only prevented by the repugnance he felt at see
ing it drawn up by the leper. Whereupon he thought
be heard a voice which said to him : " Why dostthou
not drink ? What harm has he done who has drawn
t.he water, since he has done no more than filled the
bucket, and then poured it out into the vessel ? " Th?
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 565
The hermit upon this returned to himself, and having
reflected on the vision, called back the priest, and
desired him to celebrate and consecrate for him as
usual.
48. Some of the brethren went one day to consult
St. Antony whether they ought to pay any regard to
their dreams when they found them followed by the
event, or to despise them as illusions of the devil ?
Now having had an ass with them who died by the
way, as soon as they came to the Saint he was before
hand with them, and asked them how their ass hap
pened to die ? How, father, said they, how did you
know of the death of the ass? The devils, said he,
showed it me in a dream. Upon this they told him
the occasion of their coming, for that they had also
often dreams which came to pass, and for fear of
being deluded they desired his opinion concerning
these matters. The Saint gave them full satisfac
tion on this head, assuring them by the example of
the ass, that dreams being only tricks of the enemy
to fill the mind with superstition, are by no means to
be regarded.
49. The holy abbot Agatho being asked whether
the mortification of the flesh by corporal labors and
austerities, or the keeping a guard upon the inward
man was of greater importance in \ spiritual life, h*
answered : that man was like a tree, of which corporal
labors and austerities were the leaves, but the regu-
5l <5 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
ianty jf the interior was the fruit: wherefore, as cm?
principal care must be about the fruit : because it is
written, that every tree, which doth not bring forth
f/ood fruit, shall be cut up, and shall be cast into the
Are, our chief solicitude must be about the interior,
yet we must not neglect the leaves of corporal exer
cises, since they are both an ornament and a covering
to protect the fruit.
50. The same holy Abbot used to say, that a man
who does not restrain the passion of anger, though
he were even to raise the dead to life, cannot be pleas
ing to God.
51. The holy abbot Pemen used to say, "Evil can
not be cast out by evil ; wherefore if any one doth
evil to you do you good to him, that you may over
come his evil by your good." He was also accustom
ed to say : " He that is quarrelsome, or apt to mur
mur and complain, is no monk ; he that renders
evil for evil is no monk ; he that is passionate is no
monk."
52. The same Saint said, self-will stands as a wall
of brass between man and God ; wherefore he that
renounces his own will, may say with the Psalmist, Ps.
xvii. 30. Through my God I shall go over the wall,
and may arrive at the justice of God ; concerning
which it is written in the folio-wing verse, as for my
God his way is undejiled.
53. Abbot Abrahr n, who had been a disciple ol
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 567
St. Agatho, having asked St. Pemen, " How it came
to pass that the devils were always assaulting him ?
The devils, replied the Saint, don t oppose those who
do their own wills ; for our own wills are devils with
respect to us, because they are always tempting us to
follow them. But it is such, as like Moses and other
saints, have got the better of their own wills that the
devils impugn."
54. A certain brother complained to St. Pambo,
that the wicked spirits would not suffer him to do
good to his neighbors. Don t say so, said the Saint
lest you charge our Lord with not being true to his
word, for he has told us, Luke x. 19. Behold I have
given you power to tread upon serpents and scorpions,
and upon all the power of the enemy. Tis then
your want of a good will, and not the wicked spirits
which you ought to accuse on this occasion, for why
don t you resist them, and tread them under your
feet?
55. One having asked abbot Sisois, what can be
the meaning, father, that these passions will not de
part from me 1 The abbot answered, because by
your irregular affections you keep within you what be
longs to them ; but if you give up all that is theirs,
Dy mortifying your disorderly affections, they shall
have no control over you, but shall depart feom you.
56. An ancient father being asked, which was that
straight and narrow way that leads to life, as is spoken
568 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
of Malt, vii ? answered, to do violence to our owa
thoughts and inclinations, and to sacrifice our own
will to the will of God, and that such as do this may
say with the apostles, Matt. xix. behold we have left
all things, and have followed thee.
57. One of the brothers said to the abbot Sisois:
" I desire to keep a guard upon my heart ; " he repli
ed, " how can you guard your heart, and preserve it
from dangers, if you suffer the gate of the tongue to
be always open f " The same holy abbot used to say :
u That the great business of our pilgrimage is to keep
a guard upon our mouths."
58. Abbot Allois said : " Except a religious man
think in his heart that there is no one in the world but
God and himself, he will never enjoy true rest."
59. One of the ancients said : " As no one presumes
to offer violence to a person whilst he is at the side of
the emperor, so neither can Satan do any hurt to a
soul whilst it sticks close to God ; for it is written :
Approach to God, and he ivill approach to you,
James iv. 8. But because the poor soul is frequently
dissipated and forgets her God, the enemy has power
to drag her away into shameful passions."
60. One of the brothers told an ancient religious,
that he was not sensible of any conflict or war in his
80U 1. " Oh," said the father, " it is because your soul
is like an open place, where every one comes in and
goes out at his pleasure without meeting with any re-
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 569
sistance on your part, or your ever taking any notice
of them ; but if you kept the door shut, by guarding
against evil thoughts, you would quickly become sen
sible of the war they would wage against you."
61. Another ancient father said, that Satan had
three precursors who usually prepared the way for
him, and helped to introduce sin into the soul, viz.
forgetfulness of God, negligence, and concupiscence.
62. When the patriarch Theophilus visited the re
ligious of mount Nitria, he asked the superior what
was the most important thing he had found out in
that way of life ? The father answered : to accuse
and reprehend myself without ceasing. The prelate
replied, there can be no way more safe.
63. Abbot Mathos said, the nearer a man draws to
wards God, the more he perceives himself to be a sin
ner ; thus when the prophet Isaias saw the Lord,
chap. vi. he immediately exclaimed, Wo is me, be
cause lam a man of unclean lips and I have seen with
my eyes, the King, the Lord of Hosts.
64. St. Arsenius related as of another, though it
was thought himself was the person, that whilst one
of the ancient religious was sitting alone in his cell he
was called out by a voice that said to him : " Come,
arid I will show thee the works of men." The person
that called him out, brought him first to a place where
he saw a negro cutting wood, and making a large bun
dle, which he tried to carry, but found t too heavy ;
570 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
whereupon instead of lessening the bundle he went to
cut more wood, and still continued to add to his bur
den, without ottering to take anything away from a
load which even at the first was more than he could
carry. Having gone a little further, he perceived a
man standing by a lake drawing water and pouring it
into a vessel full of holes, through which the water ran
again into the lake. Afterwards he was brought to
another place where he saw a building like a temple,
with two men on horseback marching abreast, and
carrying a long pole together on their shoulders, with
which they endeavored to go into the temple, but as
they would not be put out of their way, nor stop, nor
turn the pole, so that one might pass in before the
other, they were both of them kept out, because the
length of the pole, and the manner they carried it,
would not suffer them to enter within the gate of the
temple. The person that showed him these things
told him, that these two men resembled such as pre
tend to carry the yoke of religion without renouncing
their pride ; and if they are not reclaimed, so as to
walk humbly in the way of Christ, they shall assured
ly be excluded from God s eternal temple. He also
told him, that the man whom they saw cutting the
wood, represented worldlings loaded with sins, who in-,
stead of doing penance, or turning from their evil
ways, were, by adding sin to sin, continually increas
ing thsir burden ; and that the man who poured th
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 571
water ;nto the vessel full of holes, resembled such a*
do many good works, but lose the fruit of them by
mingling with them many that are evil. Wherefore
every one ought to be watchful with regard to the
urity and perfection of his works, that he may not
be found hereafter to have labored in vain.
05. St. Arsenius also informs us, that there was in
the wilderness a certain old man, who was wonderful
in his actions, but simple in faith, so that being igno
rant, he had an erroneous opinion with respect to the
holy eucharist, saying, that the bread which we receive
is not really the body of Christ, but only the figure of
his body. Two of the ancient fathers, on hearing this,
went to beg of him to lay aside so erroneous an opin
ion, and to believe with them and the universal church,
that the eucharistic bread was indeed the body of
Christ, and the chalice his blood, according to the
truth, and not according to figure ; because Christ
himself had assured us, saying, this is my body, &c.
But as the old man did not appear satisfied with what
they said on this subject, it was agreed upon between
them, that they should all three earnestly pray to God
during the week with relation to the mystery, that the
truth might be made manifest to him. On the fol-
/owing Sunday, having placed themselves together iu
the church, at the time of celebrating the sacred mys
teries, there appeared to them a little child as it were
: ying upon the alta-, and when the priest was going
572 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
to divide the sacramental bread, they saw an ange.
with a knife dividing the body of the child, and re
ceiving his blood in the chalice ; and when they went
up to communion, whilst the other two received the
blessed sacrament in its usual form, the particle that
was given the old man appeared to be bloody flesh, at
which he was frightened, and exclaimed : " / believe,
Lord, that the consecrated bread is thy body, and
the chalice thy blood ;" immediately what he was go
ing to receive returned to the shape of bread accord
ing to the mystery. Whereupon they all returned
thanks, and blessed God for his wonderful goodness,
in not suffering his servant to lose, by incredulity, the
fruit of so many years labor.
Out of the Book of the Virtues and Miracles of the Reli
gious of their own times, published under the Title of
" The Spiritual Meadow," by that holy man John Mos-
chus, surnamed Eviratus, and his intimate friend and
individual companion, St. Sophrovius.
66. AN ancient religious, who dwelt in the monas-
terv of the towers of Palestine, was so eminent in thai
virtu> , that nil the monks were desirous of choosing
lum fur their abbot; but the old man begged to Iw
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 573
excused, saying : " Pardon me, reverend fathers, and
suffer me to bewail my sins, I am not worthy to be
intrusted with the care of souls ; that is an office only
fit for such men as an Antony, Pachomius, or Theo
dore, and not for such a wretch as I am." But as the
brethren still importuned him to accept of the supe
riority, and would hear of no excuse, he at length told
them : "Let me pray for three days, that I may know
the will of God ; and whatever he ordains that will I
do." This he said on the Friday, and the Sunday
morning following our Lord took him to himself.
67. Another religious man of the same monastery,
an eminent servant of God, having died in the hospi
tal of Jericho, when the brethren took his body from
thence, and carried it to be buried in his own monas
tery, they perceived a bright star over his head, which
accompanied them the whole way, and continued to
be visible till the body was interred.
68. Another monk of the same monastery, whose
name was Myrogones, who, by the austerity of his life,
had fallen into a dropsy, when the brethren came to
visit and comfort him under his sufferings, used to say
to them : " Good fathers, pray for me, that the in
ward man may not fall into a dropsy ; for as to this
exterior infirmity, I make it my prayer to God that it
may continue with me." The Patriarch of Jerusalem,
Eustochius, hearing of this holy man, desired to be
at the charges of furnishing him with all necessaries.
574 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
but the servant of God declined accepting his charita
ble offer, and only begged that he would pray for him,
that he might be delivered from the everlasting suffer
ings of the world to come.
09. A brother having desired the abbot Olympius,
priest of the monastery of St. Gerasimus, to give him
a word of instruction : " Fly," said he, " the conversa
tion of heretics ; put a restraint upon thy tongue, and
thy sensual appetite, and wheresoever thou art, say
always to thyself I am a stranger and a pilgrim,"
70. One of the fathers of the laura of Cupatha re
lated, as what he had heard from the person himself
to whom it happened, that when there was a war in
Africa, between the Romans and Moors, and the lat
ter, in a certain engagement, had defeated the former,
and slain many of them, one of the Roman soldiers in
the flight, being closely pursued by a barbarian, whose
spear almost touched his back, prayed earnestly to our
Lord to deliver him, as he had delivered St. Thecla
out of the hands of her e^mies, and promised, if he
escaped with his life, he v_...d presently retire into the
desert, and dedicate himself wholly to the love and
services of God ; when behold, looking back, he could
neither see the barbarian that pursued him, nor any
other enemy. Wherefore, to fulfill his promise, he
presently repaired to the laura of Cupatha, and had
already passed five and thirty years alone ir a neigh
boring cave, in devotion and penance.
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 575
71. When John and Sophronius came to the mon
astery called Philoxene, near the town of Dade in
Cyprus, they found there a monk, a native of Melitine,
named Isidore, who passed his whole time in weeping
and mourninor. The brethren often desired that he
O
would desist from his lamentations, and allow himself
some rest and ease ; but he would not hear of it, al-
ledging that he was the most enormous sinner that
ever had been since the creation. His history, which
we had from his own mouth, was briefly to the follow
ing effect. Whilst he lived a married man in the
world, both himself and his wife were followers of the
heresy of Severus the Eutychian ; but one day his
wife visiting a catholic woman, her neighbor, went with
her to receive the catholic communion. The husband
being informed thereof, made what haste he could in
pursuit of her, to prevent her so doing ; but when he
arrived he found she had just communicated. Upon
which, in a great rage, he seized her by the throat,
and obliged her to cast up the consecrated species,
which he let fall into the dirt ; when presently he per
ceived the sacred particle which he had abused, shining
with brilliant rays of light. Two days after he saw a
deformed black fellow, who said to him : " You and I
are condemned to suffer the same punishment to
gether ; " and having asked him who he was, he an
swered : " I am the wretch who struck the Lord Jesus,
the Maker of all things on his cheek at the time of his
576 REMARKABLE ANECDO.TE8,
passion." For this reason, said Isidore, I can neve*
leave off weeping. And now you have heard ray his
tory, I hope you will be pleased to pray for me.
72. Two ancient religious, travelling- from JGga, in
Oilicia, to Tarsus, were obliged, by the heat of the day,
to go into an inn, where they found three young men
with a harlot in their company. The two religious
went and sat down by themselves ; and when one ol
them took out the holy gospel, and began to read, the
woman left her company, and came and sat down by
his side to hear him. The servant of God, in order
to drive her away, asked her how she could be so im
pudent as to come and sit by them ? It is true, replied
she, 1 am a wretched sinner ; but as our God and Sa
viour Jesus Christ did not prevent a sinful woman
from coming to him, why should you cast me off?
The woman that came to our Saviour, rejoined the
holy father, renounced her wicked way of life, and was
no longer a harlot. And I, said she, trust in Jesus
Christ, that from this very instant, by his dr ine grace,
I shall quit this sinful .way, and never more be guilty
of the like sins. Firm in her resolution, she instantly
quitted the world with all she possessed, and went to
the nunnery near ^Ega, to which the two old men re
commended her ; " where," says my author, " I saw
her, being now an old woman of great prudence, and
learnt these things from her own mouth." Her name
was Marv.
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 571
73. A certain comedian of Tarsus in Cilicia, named
Babylas, who led a very wicked life and kept two con
cubines, one called Cometa, and the other Nicosa, one
day hearing in the church those words of the gospel,
do penance, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand,
(Matth. iii.) was so suddenly touched with an extra
ordinary compunction for his sins, that he resolved
upon the spot to quit the world entirely, and to dedi
cate the remainder of his days to devotion and pen
ance. This resolution, as soon as he returned home,
he imparted to the two women, telling them that they
might, if they pleased, divide his whole substance be
tween them ; but as for his part he was resolved to
provide for the salvation of his soul, by renouncing the
world from that very instant, and entering into reli
gion. Both being greatly moved by his words, told
him with one voice, and an abundance of tears, that
as they had been partners with him in his sinful ways,
and had borne him company whilst he was walking in
the broad road to perdition, so they were also deter
mined to accompany him in his conversion to God,
and to enter with him. upon the narrow way of eternal
life ; for why should you, said they, choose the better
part for yourself, and leave us in the lurch ? Where
fore Babylas went, and shut himself up in one of the
towers belonging to the walls of the city ; and the
two women, after selling all their substance, and giving
the price to the ; poor, made themselves also a cell in
49
f)78 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
the neighborhood, where they dedicated themselves tc
a recluse and penitential life. This man, says our
author, I myself have seen, and was very much edified
by his conversation ; for. he was exceedingly humble,
mild, and charitable.
74. One of the fathers related a remarkable anec
dote to us concerning St. Ephrem, the patriarch Oi
Antioch : that being very zealous and fervent in
faith, he attempted the conversion of a famous monk
who lived on a pillar in the neighborhood of Hierapo-
!is, who had been tampered with by the Eutychian
heretics, and seduced into their errors. This Stylite
being obstinate against the remonstrances of the holy
patriarch, to show how confident he was of the truth
of his religion, made a proposal that a great fire should
be kindled into which he and the patriarch should go
together, and that they should abide by the faith of
him who should come out of the flames without hurt.
St. Ephrem told him, that although he had proposed
a thing that far exceeded the strength of such a poor
sinner as he acknowledged himself to be, however,
that confiding in the mercies of his Saviour, and hop
ing by this means to bring about the salvation of a
soul in error, he would agree to the proposal, and im
mediately he ordered a great quantity of wood to be
piled up, which he himself set on fire, and then lie
desired the monk to coi^e down from his pillar, that
they might go hand in hand into the flames. Bat
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 579
-be heretic, who thought to have frightened the patri
arch with his proposal, being dismayed at his courage
and resolution, would not come down. The Saint then
going up. to the fire, and taking off his stole, prayed
to our Lord Jesus Christ, who was pleased to be incar
nate for the love of us, to make manifest on this occa
sion his divine truth; and when he had ended his
prayer, he cast his stole into the midst of the flames,
where it remained for the space of three hours, till all
the wood was consumed, and then it was taken out
whole and entire, without having been so much as
singed by the fire. The Sty lite, astonished at so evi
dent a miracle, gave glory to God, and was converted
upon the spot to the Catholic Church, and was admit
ted by St. Ephrem to receive the holy communion
from his own hands.
75. St. Ephrem, who, before he was patriarch,
was count or governor of all the eastern district of
which Antioch was the capital, was very illustrious for
his alrns-deeds and works of mercy. In his time, the
city of Antioch was destroyed by an earthquake, which
calamity, amongst many other occasions of exercising
his charity, furnished him with that of employing a
number of workmen and laborers in repairing the pub
lic buildings of that city. Now one of the fathers re
lated to us, says our author, that on this occasion a
certain bishop privately withdrawing himself from hia
see, and putting on a poor laborer s frock, came to An-
580 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
lioch, and tlere hired himself to serve the masons,
After some time the governor, in a vision ty night,
saw this laborer lying asleep, and over his head a pil
lar of fire, which reached even up to the firmament.
He was the more astonished at the sight, because he
perceived nothing in the whole garb, or person of the
man, but what appeared mean and contemptible;
however, as he continued for many nights to see the
same thing, he sent for the laborer, and asked him
who or what he was ? He answered he was a poor
man, who endeavored to gain his little livelihood by
his work. The count, not satisfied with this answer,
told him plainly he should not depart from him till ho
had discovered the whole truth, and continued to con
jure him in so pressing a manner to give him a more
particular account of himself, that at length, after re
quiring a solemn promise of secrecy, at least till he
should be dead, he told him : "I am a bishop, who
have for God s sake resigned rny bishopric, and am
come hither as to a strange place, where no one might
know me ; to mortify my flesh, employ myself in la
bor, and by the work of my hands to earn myself a
little bread. Ask not my name, for that I must and
will conceal ; but take care to multiply thy alms-deeds
and good works as much as possible, for before it be
long God will promote thee to the apostolic see of this
city, to feed the flock which Christ our true God has
purchased with his own. blood. Therefore, as I said,
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 581
De diligent in all the works of mercy, and always stand
up zealously, and contend earnestly for the orthodox
faith; for with such sacrifices as these God is best
pleased." St. Ephrem hearing all this, glorified our
Lord, who has many hidden servants in the world,
known to himself alone.
76. The abbot Stephen related to us, that a certain
monk, named Gyriacus, of the monastery of our holy
father St. Sabas, being one day visited by his worldly
friends, when they knocked at the door of his cell, he
praved to God that he might not be seen by them ;
then opening the door, he went out without their per
ceiving him, and remained abroad in the desert till he
understood they were gone away.
77. The same abbot Stephen related to us the fol
lowing extraordinary anecdote concerning father Ju
lian the Stylite, who was illustrious for many miracles :
the servant of God understanding that there was in
his neighborhood a lion that did much mischief, called
one t day to his disciple Pancratius, and bid him go two
miles to the south, and there, said he, thou shalt find
the lion, to whom thou shalt say: "Julian, the poor
servant of Jesus Christ, commands thee, in the name
of the same Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who gives
life to all things, to depart from this country." Pan-
ciatius having found out the lion, and spoken to it as
the saint had ordered, the beast immediately obeyed,
and was seen nc more n that province.
582 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
78. Father Peter, a priest of the same monastery
of St. Sabas, told us of another hoiy man, named
Thaleleus, of the province of Cicilia, who had spent
three score years in religion, in such perpetual com
punction and devotion as to never cease from weeping
and saying : " this present time is allowed us by divine
mercy for repentance and penance, and what a ter
rible account shall we have to give if we do not make
good use of it!"
79. Three ancient religious men came one day tc
the cell of the holy abbot Stephen, priest, of the mon
astery of the ^Eliotse, to be edified by his conversation ;
but he keeping silence whilst they conversed on differ
ent subjects of piety, Father, said they, we came to
you, in hopes of learning something, why don t you
say something to us ? " I beg your pardon," said he,
" I really did not take notice of what you were speak
ing ; for, to tell you the truth, I have nothing before
my eyes, night or day, but our Lord Jesus Christ cru
cified." With this answer they departed not a little
edified.
80. Abbot John, surnamed Molybiw, ie!ated to us
concerning the same holy priest Steph^r, t^at being in
bis last illness obliged by his physical/ to eat meat,
a brother of his, A secular, but a V>T\ virtuous man,
was shocked, and exceedingly grVkv,d, that ht who
had lived so many years in sucL extreme abstinence
and mortifoation, should, at the i <.1 of his life, fall to
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 583
the eating of flesh meat. In the midst of these
thoughts he fell into an ecstasy, and saw in spirit one
standing by reprehending him for being scandalized
without cause at what his brother did through neces
sity, and by obedience. "But, (said he) if you desiro
to know the merit and glory of your brother, turn and
see him." Upon which, turning about, he saw his
brother fastened to the cross with our Lord : " Be
hold," said the person that appeared to him, "the
happy state of your brother, and learn to glorify hirn
who glorifies, in this manner, those that love him in
truth."
81. Abbot Theodosius related of himself, that in his
younger days, before he embraced a solitary life, he
saw one day in an ecstasy, a person shining brighter
than the sun, who took him by the hand, and said :
" Come along with me ; for thou must wrestle and
fight for a crown." Whereupon he led him into a
theatre that appeared immensely wide, and full of peo
ple ; one part of whom were clothed in white, the other
in black, and placed him in the centre. And here he
saw a filthy negro of a gigantic size and strength,
standing before him, with whom he was told he was
to wrestle. He strove to excuse himself, alledging
that no strength upon earth could be able to stand
against such a monster ; but the person that brought
hirn thither said, you must wrestle with him. " Ad-
ranee then courageously and attack him, and I will
584 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
stand by and assist thee, and give thee the crown of
victory." Upon this encouragement Theodosius seem
ed to himself to have entered the lists, and with the
help of his friend to have overthrown his adversary,
and received the crown ; to the great joy of those that
were clothed in white, who gave praise and glory to
him who had given his servant the victory, whilst the
others in black were all confounded, and put to flight.
The same abbot Theodosius, as we learnt from his dis
ciple, the abbot Cyriacus, spent thirty-five years in soli
tude, eating but once in two days, and observing a
perpetual silence. Of this, says John Moschus, I was
for some time an eye-witness, having lived during ten
years with him in the monastery.
82. When Sophronius and I, said John Moschwv,
were at Alexandria, we went to visit abbot Palladius,
a true servant of God, superior of the monastery in
Lithosomenon, to learn of him some lessons of edifi
cation. "My children," said he, "our time here is
very short ; let us then fight during this short time ;
let us labor in earnest for the immortal goods of a
happy eternity. Behold the martyrs ; look upon
those champions of heaven, and see how bravely they
have fought and conquered ; what cruel torments they
have sustained; with whnt ardor of faith they have
gone through all the sufferings of the present life, and
thereby purchased an eternal and immense weight of
g.ory, To labor, therefore, to suffer, and to overcome,
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 585
frith the help of our Lord, the tribulations of this life,
is the way to prove ourselves true lovers of God. In
the mean time he himself will remain with us; he
will fight and conquer in and for us ; he will alleviate
by his divine grace all our labors and sufferings. Pa
tience and Penitence must then be our exercises during
the slrcni time that is allowed us here, that so we may
arrive at the honor and dignity of being the eternal
temples of God." He added, that we should always
set before our eyes him who had not, during his mor
tal life, whereon to lay his head : and that we should
remember that the suffering of tribulation, according
to St. Paul, Rom. v. worketh patience, and patience
trial, and trial hope, and hope confoundeth not, <fec. ;
so that this is indeed the true way to dispose our souls
for the kingdom of heaven. Wherefore, my children,
said he, let us love not the world, nor those things
which are in the world, 1 John ii. but let us keep a
constant guard upon our thoughts, by recollection
of spirit, which is the medicine of salvation.
83. We asked this holy man what had been the
first occasion of his call to this monastic life ? Upon
which he related to us the following history : " There
was," said he, " in my country (Thessalonica in Mace
donia) an ancient religious man, named David, a na
tive of Mesopotamia, who lived during the space of
fourscore years shut up in a little cell by himself, at
the distance of about three furlongs without the walla
586 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
(A the city, in great sanctity and abstinence. Now it
happened, on account of the inroads of the barbarians,
that soldiers were placed round the walls of the city
to guard it at night from the attack of the enemy.
These guards observed one night flames of fire issuing
forth from the windows of the cell of the servant 01
God, from whence they concluded that the barbarians
had been there, and had set fire to his cell ; but to
their great astonishment, when they went out the next
morning to see what mischief had been done, they
found the old man safe and sound, and no mark of
fire in his cell. The following night they saw the
same fire again, which from that time continued to be
seen every, night for a long time after, even till the
death of the holy anchoret ; and many of the citizens
often passed the night upon the wall on purpose to see
it. This I myself saw, not once, or twice, but many
times ; upon which I said to myself, if God gives so
much glory to his servants in this world, how much,
thinkest thou, has he reserved for them in the world
to come ; where the just shall shine like the sun in
the kingdom of their Father. This was the first oc
casion of my resolving upon taking the monastic habit,
and entering upon a religious course of life."
84. The same holy abbot told us of a soldier iu
Alexandria, named John, who constantly observed the
following rule and order of life. Every day he came
earlv in the morning to the monastery, and sitting
APH5RISMS AND EXAMPLES. 587
down alone, clothed in hair-cloth, at the steps of the
chapel of Saint Peter, employed himself in making
baskets in silence and recollection, till the ninth hour
of the day. In the mean time Le used no other vocal
prayer but this : " From my secret sins cleanse me,
Lord, that when I pray I may not be confounded."
This he repeated seven times in the day, and after
each time continued recollected and silent for a whole
hour. At the ninth hour he put off his hair cloth,
and put on his military habit, and went to his station
amongst the soldiers. With this man, said the father,
1 lived for eight years, and was much edified with his
silence and his whole manner of life.
85. The same holy man told us one day, that the
source of all heresies and schisms in the church was,
loving God too little, and ourselves too much.
86. He also related to us the history of a certain
merchant of Alexandria, a very religious, charitable,
and hospitable man, who had a wife that was also a
very pious, humble Christian, and a little daughter six
years old. This man being called away by his affairs
to Constantinople, was asked by his wife, at parting,
to whose care and protection he would recommend
her and her child during his absence ? He answered,
T recommend you to our blessed Lady, the mother of
God. Having left behind with them only one servant
man, a slave, the wretch, by the instigation of the devil,
conceived the design of murdering his mistress and
588 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
her little daughter, and after rifling the house, to de
camp with the spoils. To put his diabolical plan in
execution, taking the kitchen knife with him, he at
tempted to go into the parlor where his mistress, with
her little girl, was sitting at her work ; but no sooner
had he come to the door than he was struck blind,
and withheld in such manner that he could neither go
forward nor backward. At length he called to his
mistress to come 1 out to him, whilst she, ignorant of
his case, replied, that if he wanted any thing he might
come in ; and although he called aloud again and
again, still she would not come, until at length, in a
fit of rage and despair, he stabbed himself. His mis
tress hearing him fall, and seeing what he had done,
called in the neighbors, with whom came in also some
of the officers of justice, and finding him not quite
dead, they learnt from his own mouth the particulars
here mentioned, and glorified our Lord, who had in so
miraculous a manner preserved the life both of the
mother and the child, who were thus recommended
to the care of his Virgin Mother.
SV. The same Palladius related also to us another
remarkable history, which he learnt from a master of
a ship, to the truth whereof himself was a witness. A
widow, named Mary, had made away with two of her
own children, in order to recommend herself to a man
with whom she was in love, but who refused to marry
her on account of her children. But when she Lad
APHORISIMS AND EXAMPLES. 589
secretly perpetrated this crime, and had signified to
the man that her children were now removed out of
the way, he conceived so great a horror for her, that
he declared, with a solemn oath, he would never
marry her on any account whatsoever. Being thus
disappointed, and apprehending lest her guilt being
divulged, she should fall into the hands of justice, and
be put to death, to withdraw herself as far as possible
from the danger, she went on board the vessel belong
ing to the captain above mentioned. But although
she thus fled from the justice of man, she could not
escape the justice of God ; for when they had set sail,
and were advanced into the deep, the ship all on a
sudden stood still, so that for many days they could
neither go forward nor backward, though they saw
other ships, not far distant from them, sailing various
courses, and going on with prosperous gales. All
were in the utmost consternation at seeing themselves
stand thus immovable in the midst of the sea, (for
there were many passengers on board), but particular
ly the master of the ship, whose all was at stake, being
in the greatest perplexity of mind, with the utmost
fervor begged that God would send them a deliver
ance. At length in his prayer he heard a voice, say
ing : " Put Mary out of the vessel, and you shall have
ft good voyage." As he did not comprehend what
the meaning of this could be, nor knew who this Mary
was, and therefore vas dubious what was to be done
60
590 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
the voice said to him again : " Put Mary, I say, out
of your ship, and all shall go well with you." Upon
this he called out Mary, Mary ; and upon her an
swering to her name, he desired to speak to her apart,
and told *ier he was afraid, that on account of his sins,
they were all going to perish. no, Sir, said she,
fetching a deep sigh, it is rather on account of my
sins ; for there is no crime of which I have not been
guilty, and immediately told him the history of the
murder of the children. He then proposed to her, as
it were in order to know whether it was for his own,
or for her sins, that the ship was stopped in her
course, that the boat should be let down, and that he
should first descend into the boat to see whether the
ship would then advance, and if not, then he should
return into the ship, and she should go down into the
boat. The captain went down first, according to his
proposal, into the boat, but still the ship and boat
remained immovable ; but no sooner had he come
back, and she gone down out of the ship, than the
boat immediately turning round five times, went down
with her to the bottom and was never seen more.
Immediately the ship sprang forward, and continued
to advance with such unusual speed, as to sail in three
days and a half a voyage which otherwise must have
cost them fifteen days.
88. As another instance of the justice of God often
overtaking the wicked even on this side of eternity,
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 591
our author relates how he and Sophronius, sheltering
themselves one day at noon from the violence of the
heat of the sun, under the shade of a place called Te-
trapylon, where the Alexand *ians say the bones of the
prophet Jeremias were deposited, they found there
three blind men sitting, and heard them relating to
each other the manner how they became blind. The
first said, that being a sailor, he was struck blind by
lightning at sea ; the second, that he had lost his eyes
by the fire, working in a glass-house ; but the third
made a sincere confession, that being an idle young
fellow, and averse to labor, he begun to take to pilfer
ing ; and that seeing one day a man carried to be
buried in rich clothes, and deposited in a monument
behind St John s church, he hadwatched his oppor
tunity, and going into the monument, stripped the
corpse of the clothes ; but that when he was about to
take away the linen which was next to the body, the
corpse, by some supernatural power, sat up, and fixing
its nails in his eyes, plucked them out : " And thus,"
concluded he, " wretched I, in great anguish and des
olation, quitting all that I had taken, fled out of the
monument; and this is the true history of my blind
ness." This account which these two servants of God
heaid from the mouth of the blind man himself, they
committed to writing, as a warning to sinners not to
think, even in their most private sins, to escape tha
notice of the justice of God.
592 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
89. No less remarkable in this kind is the history
which the same holy men learnt from abbot John, su
perior of a monastery near Antioch, with relat on to a
young man who had presumed to strip the dead corpse
of a maiden gentlewoman. When he was going out
of the monument laden with the spoil, she held him
fast, and would not suffer him to stir, till he had re
stored all he had taken. Hereupon he made a solemn
promise to renounce his wicked course of life, and to
enter forthwith into religion ; and being as good as his
vord, he went immediately to abbot John, and with
the greatest marks of compunction besought him, for
the love of God, to receive him into his monastery.
When the abbot inquired into the cause of that exces
sive grief and anguish wherein he saw him, he related
to him the whole matter of fact as above. The abbot
after having comforted him, received him into the
monastic habit, and appointed a cavern in the moun
tain for his cell, where, at the very time my authors
heard from him this history, which happened but a
little while before, the young man was actually doino-
penance for his sins, and serving our Lord with great
frrvor and piety.
90. Sophronius and John Moschus having one day
visited a holy anchoret, who had his cell at the dis
tance of eighteen miles from Alexandria, they begged
of him to give them some lessons for their instruction
and edification. "My children," said he, "you do
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 593
well m renouncing the world, in order to secure youi
salvaHon. Go then and remain in your cells; ba
sober and watchful ; keep yourselves quiet; be silent
and pray without ceasing, and I trust in God that he
will there enlighten your souls, and instruct you in the
science of the Saints." He said again, " My children,
if you desire to be safe, flee from the company of men,
and be not of the number of those that run gadding
about from house to house, or from place to place, for
the sake of worldly interest or empty glory, and thus
fill their souls with nothing but vanity. Let us flee,
my children, let us flee, for the time is near at hand."
Again he said ; " Alas, alas ! how bitterly shall we
repent, our not being sincere penitents now? Our
misery is so great, that when we are praised we are
puffed up, and when we are dispraised we are quite
dejected: the former suggests to us poor wretches,
pride and vain glory ; the latter depresses us with sad
ness and anguish. Now there can no good be found
where either sadness or vain glory resides." He said
again, " the devils make it their business, when they
have drawn a soul into sin, to strive to cast her head
long into dejection and despair, that so they may com
plete her ruin. They are always plotting against the
poor soul, and saying, when shall she die, and her
name perish ? but let the soul that is sober reply with
confidence in God, / shall not die, but live, and de
clare the works of the Lord. And if they should say
94 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
ro her again, Get thee away from hence to the moun
tain like a sparrow, let her reply, behold my God and
my Saviour, he is my protector, I will not go hence"
He also said : " keep a guard at the gate of your
hearts, and let no stranger in, but diligently inquire,
Art thou one of ours, or of our adversaries!"
Jos. v.
01. We went also to the abbot John of Petra, and
desired a word of instruction from him. This good
father recommended continual mortification and pov
erty of spirit to us, in such a manner as to love to be
stript of all earthly things ; and to this purpose he re
lated to us that when he was a young man, and abode
in the desert of Scete, one of the religious of that
place being ill, had occasion for a small quantity of
vinegar, but that so great was their poverty and ab
stinence, that a single drop could not be found in all
the four monasteries, although they contained at that
time no less than three thousand five hundred fathers.
92. John the Cicilian, abbot of Raithu, used to in
culcate the following lessons to his brethren : " My
children, as we have fled from the world, by entering
into religion, let us also flee from the flesh, and all its
passions and concupiscences. Let us walk in the step
of our fathers and holy founders who first inhabited
this place, and led such strict and mortified life with
BO much silence and recollection. O, my children, let
as not be so unhappy as to defile this place by our sins,
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 595
tfhich our fathers have taken so much pains to cleanse
and purify from the evil spirits and their works of
darkness." He also told them for their encourage
ment, that when he came thither first he found aged
monks who had spent seventy years in that place,
living the whole time upon nothing but herbs and
dates; and that for his own part he had now been
seventy-six years there, and had gone through many
a conflict, and a great variety of molestations and
temptations from the spirit of darkness. This was the
same abbot of Raithu to whom Saint John Climacu?
dedicated his Ladder of Paradise.
93. We went also to visit abbot John the Persian,
who recounted to us the following anecdote concern
ing Gregory the great, the most blessed bishop of
Rome. " When I went," said he, " to Rome, to ven
erate the sepulchres of the holy apostles Peter and
Paul, and was one day standing in the midst of the
city, they told me that the Pope was about to pass
that way. Upon which I thought I would stop and
cast myself at his feet, to show reverence to him and
crave his blessing ; but when he came near and saw
me ready io pay him that veneration, I call God to
witness that he first prostrated himself upon the
ground before me, and would not rise again till he
saw me get up : then saluting me with a wonderful
humility, he put three pieces of money into my hand,
and gave orders to his people that I should be supplied
596 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
with every necessary, which gave me occasion to glo
rify God for the exceeding great humility, mercy, and
unbounded charity, which he had bestowed upon this
his servant."
94. Abb)t Andrew, superior of a monastery near
Alexandria, related to us, that whilst in his youth he
was going from Alexandria into Palestine, with nine
others in his company, one of the number, who was a
Jew, named Theodore, was taken ill with a violent fe
ver in the desert through which they were obliged to
pass. The rest of the company pitying his case, af
forded him what comfort they could, and led him for
ward in hopes of being able to reach some town or
village where he might meet with refreshment, but
the vehement heat of the sun, joined with the fatigue
of the journey, and the excessive thirst he endured,
would not suffer him to go any farther : in a word,
he was brought to that extremity of weakness and de
bility, that there were now no hopes left of his life, so
that his companions fearing lest the same should be
their own case if they did not make the best of their
way out of the burning desert, thought of leaving him,
aince they could no longer be of any service to him.
Seeing them about to depart from him, he conjured
them for Christ s sake not to. suffer him to die without
baptism, since he ardently desired to die a Christian.
They answered, that there was not one amongst them
who could bapthe him, as this sacrament could nol
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 597
by any means be administered -without water, which
could not possibly be had in those burning sands ; but
as he still persevered in begging and praying with
many tears, that they would not be so cruel as to suf
fer him to die without making him a Christian, one cf
the company, inspired as we may believe from heaven,
desired the rest to lift and hold him up, for he was
not able to stand by himself, when filling both his
hands with sand, he poured it upon his head at three
effusions, repeating at the same time the form of words
used by the Church in the administration of baptism,
to which all the company answered, Amen. When
behold, " As God is my witness, brethien," said the
abbot to us, " the man who was dying before was so
suddenly and perfectly healed, and strengthened by
Christ our Lord, that there remained in him not the
least signs of illness, or weakness, or of having suffered
any thing whatsoever ;, but, on the contrary, he appear
ed to possess a sound, strong, and florid countenance,
and performed the remainder of the journey through
the desert with such wonderful alacrity, as to be al
ways the foremost of the company." The abbot also
related, how that as soon as they entered into Pales
tine and came to the city of Ascalon, they carried the
convert to the holy bishop Dionysius, recounting to
him all that had happened, and his miraculous cure
upon his being baptized with the sand. The good
prelate glorified our Lord for his goodness and mercy
698 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
shown on this occasion ; but after consulting with his
clergy, he concluded that as neither scripture nor tra
dition allow of the administering baptism otherwise
than in water, the man ought to be baptized in water
as the Church prescribes ; and for greater solemnity
he sent him away to the banks of the Jordan, that he
might be baptized in the same font wherein our Lord
himself was baptized.
95. When we were in the isle of Saraos, Lady
Mary, the venerable and charitable matron, mother of
the courtier Paul, related to us that whilst she resided
at Nisibis, in Mesopotamia, there lived in that city a
very pious Christian woman who was married to a pa
gan husband, but a well-meaning simple man. Being
low in their circumstances, they had only a small sum
of about fifty pieces of silver by them, which the hus
band designed to put out to use. The wife told him
the best way he could put his money out was to give
it to Jesus Christ, the God of the Christians, for that
no one gave such good interest for money as he did,
for that he would even return the principal double.
Having asked her where he could find this God ot
the Christians, that he might put out his money into
his hands, she led him to the church porch, and there
showing him a number of poor people, told him thai
whatever was given to the poor the God of the Chris
tians would accept of as given to himself, and repay
it with interest ; whereupon without hesitation he
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 599
cheerfully distributed the whole sum amongst the
poor. After a lapse of three months, finding himself
in some straits, he told his wife that the God of the
Christians seemed not to take any notice of the debt,
now that he stood in want of money ; but she, strong
in faith, bid him go to the place where he had lent
him the money, and no doubt he should be paid.
Accordingly he went to the church, where he saw the
poor to whom he had given the money, but met with
no one that offered to reimburse what he had lent
them, or pay him any interest. At length, whilst he
was considering within himself what he should do, or
to whom he was to address himself, he saw a piece ot
silver lying at his feet, which he took up, and having
carried it home, his wife told him that the God of the
Christians, who, without being seen by us, disposes ot
all things, and provides for the whole world, had sent
him that piece of money, and desired him to go and
buy with it what they wanted for that day, assuring
him that he would not fail to provide for them also
for the time to come. Having gone to market with
the money, he bought some bread and wine, and a
fish, which he gave to his wife to dress for their din
ner, when behold upon opening the fish she found in
its entrails a precious stone of admirable beauty, which
he showed to her husband, and he, without knowing
the value of it, carried it to a jeweller to sell. The
jeweller at first sight bid him five pieces of silver for
600 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES;
it. " What," says he to himself, " so much as that?"
supposing the man not to be serious. The jeweiie?
then bid him ten pieces ; but he still thinking him to
be in jest, as he had no idea of the value of the stone,
stood silent ; but when he offered him twenty, then
thirty, and afterwards forty, and had at length rose to
fifty pieces of silver, lie began to be convinced that the
jewel was worth a great deal more, and stood out for
a higher price. The jeweller advancing gradually, at
last offered him three hundred pieces of silver, which
be agreed to take, and carried the money home to his
wife. From thence she took occasion to represent to
him how liberally he had been dealt with by the God
of the Christians, and how kind and how bountiful he
must be, who for the fifty pieces of silver he had lent
to him three months before, had returned him in so
short a space of time, three hundred. This wonder
ful event was immediately followed by the conversion
of the man, who ceased not afterwards to glorify God
for his infinite goodness, and to hold himself highly
indebted to the wisdom and piety of his religious wife,
who had been the happy instrument by which he was
brought to the knowledge of the saving religion of
Jesus Christ.
96. When we were at Alexandria, in the days of
the holy patriarch Eulogius, the cotemporary and in-
tima-te friend of St. Gregory the Great, we met with
Leontius of Aparnea, a most religious and faithfaj
APHORISMS AND EXA JPLE8. 601
man. who lived for many years at Gyrene, and came
to b3 consecrated bishop of that see, from whom we
heard the following history : In the days of the patri
arch Theophilus, a famous philosopher, called Syne-
BWS, was made bishop of Gyrene, who had an intimate
friend, a philosopher also, whose name was Evagrius.
This man, being a pagan, was very averse to the chris-
tian religion, to which the holy prelate would gladly
have brought him over ; he particularly objected
against the articles of the resurrection of the dead, and
of the eternal rewards and punishments of the world
to come. Synesius, however, was not discouraged
with the resistance he met with, and did not desist
from using all the means in his power for the conver
sion of his old friend, till the grace of God blessing
his endeavors, Evagrius at length determined to em
brace the christian faith, and was baptized with his
whole family. Some time after he brought a bag of
three hundred pieces of gold to the bishop, and put it
in his hands for the use of the poor, desiring lie would
be pieased to give him a note under liis own hand,
that Christ would repay him in the world to come,
with which proposal Synesius readily complied. Eva
grius some years after fell ill of a distemper, of which
he died ; and being near his end, he gave the bishop s
note of hand to his sons, r esiring it might be buried
with him. The sons, according to his desire, put the
note into the hand of the father s corpse, and buriec
602 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
him with it. Three nights after Evagrius appeared to
Synesius in his sleep, and bid him go to the monu
ment where his body lay, in order to recei/e back his
note, for that the whole had been repaid to him ; and
that in testimony thereof, he should find an acquit
tance, written by his (Evagrius s) own hand. The
bishop next morning sent for the young men, asked
them if they had not buried some paper with their
father ? They acknowledged that at his request they
had, but that no one besides themselves knew any
thing of the matter. Then taking them along with
him, together with his clergy, and the principal men
of the city, he ordered the tomb to be opened in their
presence, where they found the philosopher lying, with
the paper in his hand, which when they had taken
from thence and opened, they saw at the bottom an
acquittance, which appeared to be newly written, in
Evngrius s own hand, whereby he acknowledged that
he had received the contents, and was fully satisfied
foi the whole sum which he had given by the hands
of Synesius to Jesus Christ our God and Saviour.
This note and acquittance, as the same Leontius as
sured us, is kept to this day in the treasury of the
church of Gyrene, and is always, in a special manner,
recommended to the care of the treasurer of that
cathedral.
97. One of the fathers related to us, that being at
Constantinople upon some necessary business, whilsj
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 603
he was sitting one day in the church, a gentleman of
condition came up, and saluting him, desired to sit
down by his side to hear from him some lessons for
the good of his soul. The father told him that if he
made a good use of the things of the earth, it would
be a great means to bring him to heavenly goods
"Father," said he "you are in the right; and that
man is truly happy who places his confidence in God,
and commits himself wholly to his providence. My
father, who was a gentleman of distinction and opu
lence, but a great alms-giver, who distributed large
sums of money to the poor, asked me one day, after
giving me an account of all his worldly wealth, whether
I chose that he should reserve it to bequeath wholly
to me at his de?.th, or whether he should dispose of it
in the marine je had begun, by giving it to Christ by
the hands o e r je poor, and to leave me Christ for my
guardian ana trustee. I told him I was very well sa
tisfied with his disposing of his worldly substance in
charity, and that I chose Christ before all worldly
riches, which quickly pass away ; they are with us to
day and gone to-morrow, but Christ remains for ever.
After this, my father became so liberal in his alms,
that at his death he left me very poor, but not without
the utmost confidence in Christ, to whose care he had
committed me. There happened to be at this time
another gentleman of distinction in the city, exceeding
rich, vh v;is married to a very pious Christian lady,
604 RKMAUKAnLE ANECDOTES,
who greatly feared our Lord. This worthy couple had
one onlv daughter to inherit all their substance ; and
aa she was now marriageable, the wife proposed to her
husband, that instead of giving her in marriage tc
some rich nobleman, who, if he were not a servant of
God, might make her miserable, they should rather
look out for some virtuous humble man that feared
God, and would both love and cherish her, and go
hand in hand with her to heaven; for riches they
wanted none for her, having a large fortune to give
her ; and therefore virtue and happiness was all they
had to seek for. The husband being of the same way
of thinking, bid her go to church and recommend the
matter earnestly to God ; and after praying, with all
possible fervor, then address herself to the first person
whom God should send into the church, as to the man
designed by providence to be the husband of their
daughter. Having accordingly gone to church, after
&he had finished her prayers, she sat down ; and, as
providence had ordered it, I was the first that entered.
As soon as she perceived me, she sent her servant to
call me, and having inquired of me who or whence I
was ? I told her I was a native of this city, and the
Bon of such a one. What, said she, of that gentle
man who gave away all his estate in alms? Yes, re
plied I, of the same. Are you married, said she ? I
answered, no* and told her all my father had said,
when he left me Christ for my guardian and trustee
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 605
Hereupon she glorified God, and told me that my
good guardian had provided both a wife and a plenti
ful estate for me, and wished me to use them both with
the fear of God. Thus I received both her daughter
and all her worldly substance; and I pray God that
I may walk to the end of my life in the footsteps of
my father."
98. Another of the fathers related to us concerning
a certain lady of the first quality, who, after visiting
the holy places, and performing other devotions in
Jerusalem, went down to Cesarea to fix her abode in
that city. Here she desired the bishop to place some
religious woman with her, who might teach her hu
mility and the fear of God. The bishop made choice
of a virtuous, humble maid, whom he recommended
to her for that purpose. After some time he asked
her how she liked the companion he had placed with
her ? She is good, said she, but is of no great service
to my soul ; for siie is so exceedingly humble, that
she lets me do whatever I please, and never contra
dicts me. Upon this the bishop sent a woman of a
more rough and untowardly disposition to her, who
tailed not to afford the good lady frequent opportuni
ties of exercising her patience, as well as her humility
and charity, in bearing with her sour temper, her un
ruly tongue, her perpetual contradictions and reproach
es. After some time the bishop again desired to know
how she liked her new companion ? She answered,
606 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES
that she had reason to be contented with her, because
she was of essential service to her soul, by teaching
her patience, meekness, and humility, which are best
learnt in the school of reproaches and contradictions.
99. Another told us, that there happened to oe a
dispute between two neighboring bishops upon a Jfairs
relating to their respective dioceses, which was like to
turn out very much to the prejudice of the weaker of
the two, because his antagonist was a politica man,
and one that had great power and interest. Where
fore, being sensible of his danger, he assembled one
day all his clergy, and told them he had found out an
expedient, by means of which, through the grace of
Christ, he made no doubt but they should gain their
cause and overcome their adversary. They could not
comprehend how this could possibly be, considering
the power and the craft of the man with whom they
had to contend. Well, said he, stop a little, and you
shall see the goodness of God. On such a day they
celebrate the feast of the holy martyrs with great so
lemnity in that diocese, therefore you shall accom
pany me thither, and provided you imitate me in
whatever I shall then do, we shall certainly carry our
cause. Having assured them they would, on the day
appointed they all followed him to the neighboring
city, although ignorant of the means whereby he in
tended to overcome his adversary. At their arrival
they foun \ the whole people assembled, with theil
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 607
bishop and his clergy ; when, without a moment s
hesitation, the humble prelate advanced, his clergy all
following him, and, together with them prostrated
hitnself at the feet of the other bishop, saying : For-
jive us, my good lord, we are all of us your servants.
The other, struck with astonishment at such profound
humility, and at the same time touched with com
punction, God changing his heart, fell also down upon
his face, and taking hold of the feet of his fellow bish
op, cried out : It is you that are both my Lord and
my father : and from that moment their dispute was
happily terminated, and they ever after lived in per
fect concord and mutual charity. Thus the good pre
late, by his humility, gained both his cause and the
heart of his adversary, and told his clergy upon the
occasion, that this was the true way to overcome their
enemies.
100. A certain brother being assaulted with sad
ness, applied to one of the fathers, asking what he
should do to prevent his thoughts from continually
suggesting to him, that he was but losing his time in
religion, and could never be saved ? " Brother," said
the father, " whatever you do, never think of going
back to the world which you have renounced. If
we cannot arrive at the land of promise, it i better
or us to die in the wilderness, than to return into
Egypt."
101. Gregory, th Governor of the province of
608 REMARKABLE ANECDOTES,
Africa, a good Christian and great lover of the poof
and the religious, related to us the following history
which happened in our times in his native country,
the district of Apamea in Syria. There is in that part
of the world a place called Gonagus, forty miles dis
tant from the city of Apamea, in the neighborhood of
v. hich some country boys, by the way of play took
upon themselves to mimic the sacrifice of the mass and
the holy communion, according to what they had seen
done by the priests in the church. For this purpose
they appointed one of their number to officiate as
priest, and two others to assist as deacon and sub-dea
con ; and making a large stone, in the middle of the
field, serve for an altar, they placed some bread and
some wine in an earthen cup upon it. Then he that
personated the priest, having his two ministers on
each hand of him, recited the words of the sacred ob
lation and consecration, which he had learnt by heart,
by being near the altar, as in some places the priests
recited them aloud, and proceeded in the mass till to
wards the end of the canon ; but before they came to
the breaking of the bread and the communion, a fire
descended from heaven, which instantaneously con
sumed both all they -had set upon their altar, and the
stone itself, so as to leave no mark or trace of them
remaining. Upon which they all fell to the ground,
half dead with the fright, and for some time could
o?ith-r recover speech or motion. In this condition
APHORISMS AND EXAMPLES. 609
they were found by their friends and carried home ;
to whom, as soon as they were able to speak, they re
counted all that had happened, whilst the marks of the
ire, in the place where it fell, plainly demonstrated
he truth of what they related. The bishop of Apa-
mea, on hearing of this extraordinary event, came out
with all his clergy, and took cognizance of the whok
matter upon the spot, by first examining the boys, and
then viewing the footsteps of the fire, and in the con
clusion caused a monastery to be built and a church
erected in the field, the altar of which he fixed in the
Tery spot where the fire had fallen. As to the boys,
he placed them all in religious houses, one of whom
afterwards became a monk in the said monastery,
where Gregory, the governor, who related to us thie
wonderful history, saw him, and knew him.
f
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