__________________________________________________________________

           Title: NPNF-211. Sulpitius Severus, Vincent of Lerins, John Cassian
      Creator(s):
                  Schaff, Philip (1819-1893) (Editor)
     Print Basis: Edinburgh, T & T Clark
          Rights: Public Domain
   CCEL Subjects: All; Early Church; Proofed
      LC Call no: BR60
     LC Subjects:

                  Christianity

                  Early Christian Literature. Fathers of the Church, etc.
     __________________________________________________________________

  A SELECT LIBRARY

    OF THE

                                   NICENE AND

                              POST-NICENE FATHERS

    OF

THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH.

  SECOND SERIES

   TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH WITH PROLEGOMENA AND EXPLANATORY NOTES.

   Edited by

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

   PROFESSOR OF CHURCH HISTORY IN THE UNION THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, NEW
   YORK.

   AND

   HENRY WACE, D.D.,

   PRINCIPAL OF KING'S COLLEGE, LONDON.

  VOLUME XI

   Sulpitius Severus, Vincent of Lerins, John Cassian

  T&T CLARK

   EDINBURGH
     __________________________________________________________________

   WM. B. EERDMANS PUBLISHING COMPANY

   GRAND RAPIDS, MICHIGAN
     __________________________________________________________________

                        The Works of Sulpitius Severus.

        Translated,

  with preface, and notes,

        by

Rev. Alexander Roberts, D.D.,

      Professor of Humanity, University of St. Andrews, Scotland.
     __________________________________________________________________

Life and Writings of Sulpitius Severus.
     __________________________________________________________________

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

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

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

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

   1. Life of St. Martin.

   2. Letters (undoubted).

   3. Dialogues.

   4. Letters (doubtful).

   5. Sacred History.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Archdeacon Farrar has recently remarked concerning Martin and
   Sulpitius, "Owing partly to the eloquent and facile style of his
   (Martin's) biographer, Sulpicius Severus, his name was known from
   Armenia to Egypt more widely than that of any other monk or bishop of
   his day."--Lives of the Fathers, i. 628.
     __________________________________________________________________

                               Sulpitius Severus

On the Life of St. Martin.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

    Preface to Desiderius.

   Severus to his dearest brother Desiderius sendeth greeting. I had
   determined, my like-minded brother, to keep private, and confine within
   the walls of my own house, the little treatise which I had written
   concerning the life of St. Martin. I did so, as I am not gifted with
   much talent, and shrank from the criticisms of the world, lest (as I
   think will be the case) my somewhat unpolished style should displease
   my readers, and I should be deemed highly worthy of general
   reprehension for having too boldly laid hold of a subject which ought
   to have been reserved for truly eloquent writers. But I have not been
   able to refuse your request again and again presented. For what could
   there be which I would not grant in deference to your love, even at the
   expense of my own modesty? However, I have submitted the work to you on
   the sure understanding that you will reveal it to no other, having
   received your promise to that effect. Nevertheless, I have my fears
   that you will become the means of its publication to the world; and I
   well know that, once issued, it can never [1] be recalled. If this
   shall happen, and you come to know that it is read by some others, you
   will, I trust, kindly ask the readers to attend to the facts related,
   rather than the language in which they are set forth. You will beg them
   not to be offended if the style chances unpleasantly to affect their
   ears, because the kingdom of God consists not of eloquence, but faith.
   Let them also bear in mind that salvation was preached to the world,
   not by orators, but by fishermen, although God could certainly have
   adopted the other course, had it been advantageous. For my part,
   indeed, when I first applied my mind to writing what follows, because I
   thought it disgraceful that the excellences of so great a man should
   remain concealed, I resolved with myself not to feel ashamed on account
   of solecisms of language. This I did because I had never attained to
   any great knowledge of such things; or, if I had formerly some taste of
   studies of the kind, I had lost the whole of that, through having
   neglected these matters for so long a course of time. But, after all,
   that I may not have in future to adopt such an irksome mode of
   self-defense, the best way will be that the book should be published,
   if you think right, with the author's name suppressed. In order that
   this may be done, kindly erase the title which the book bears on its
   front, so that the page may be silent; and (what is quite enough) let
   the book proclaim its subject-matter, while it tells nothing of the
   author.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1]                                             "Delere licebit Quod
   non edideris: nescit vox missa reverti."
            --Hor. Art Poet. 389-90.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   Reasons for writing the Life of St. Martin.

   Most men being vainly devoted to the pursuit of worldly glory, have, as
   they imagined, acquired a memorial of their own names from this source;
   viz. devoting their pens to the embellishment of the lives of famous
   men. This course, although it did not secure for them a lasting
   reputation, still has undoubtedly brought them some fulfilment of the
   hope they cherished. It has done so, both by preserving their own
   memory, though to no purpose, and because, through their having
   presented to the world the examples of great men, no small emulation
   has been excited in the bosoms of their readers. Yet, notwithstanding
   these things, their labors have in no degree borne upon the blessed and
   never-ending life to which we look forward. For what has a glory,
   destined to perish with the world, profited those men themselves who
   have written on mere secular matters? Or what benefit has posterity
   derived from reading of Hector as a warrior, or Socrates as an
   expounder of philosophy? There can be no profit in such things, since
   it is not only folly to imitate the persons referred to, but absolute
   madness not to assail them with the utmost severity. For, in truth,
   those persons who estimate human life only by present actions, have
   consigned their hopes to fables, and their souls to the tomb. In fact,
   they gave themselves up to be perpetuated simply in the memory of
   mortals, whereas it is the duty of man rather to seek after eternal
   life than an eternal memorial and that, not by writing, or fighting, or
   philosophizing, but by living a pious, holy, and religious life. This
   erroneous conduct of mankind, being enshrined in literature, has
   prevailed to such an extent that it has found many who have been
   emulous either of the vain philosophy or the foolish excellence which
   has been celebrated. For this reason, I think I will accomplish
   something well worth the necessary pains, if I write the life of a most
   holy man, which shall serve in future as an example to others; by
   which, indeed, the readers shall be roused to the pursuit of true
   knowledge, and heavenly warfare, and divine virtue. In so doing, we
   have regard also to our own advantage, so that we may look for, not a
   vain remembrance among men, but an eternal reward from God. For,
   although we ourselves have not lived in such a manner that we can serve
   for an example to others, nevertheless, we have made it our endeavor
   that he should not remain unknown who was a man worthy of imitation. I
   shall therefore set about writing the life of St. Martin, and shall
   narrate both what he did previous to his episcopate, and what he
   performed as a bishop. At the same time, I cannot hope to set forth all
   that he was or did. Those excellences of which he alone was conscious
   are completely unknown, because, as he did not seek for honor from men,
   he desired, as much as he could accomplish it, that his virtues should
   be concealed. And even of those which had become known to us, we have
   omitted a great number, because we have judged it enough if only the
   more striking and eminent should be recorded. At the same time, I had
   in the interests of readers to see to it that, no undue amount of
   instances being set before them should make them weary of the subject.
   But I implore those who are to read what follows to give full faith to
   the things narrated, and to believe that I have written nothing of
   which I had not certain knowledge and evidence. I should, in fact, have
   preferred to be silent rather than to narrate things which are false.
   [2]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [2] This is a remarkable asseveration in view of the many miraculous
   accounts which follow. When we remember, on the one hand, how intimate
   Sulpitius was with St. Martin, and how strongly, as in this passage, he
   avouches the truth of all he narrates, it is extremely difficult to
   decide as to the real value of his narrative. It has been said (Smith's
   Dict. II. 967) that Sulpitius' Life of St. Martinus is "filled with the
   most puerile fables," and undoubtedly many of the stories recorded are
   of that character. But whether, considering the close relation in which
   the two men stood to each other, all the miraculous accounts are to be
   discredited, must be left to the judgment of the reader. The following
   valuable remarks may be quoted on this interesting question. "Some
   forty years ago," writes Dr. Cazenove, "an audience in Oxford was
   listening to a professor of modern history (Dr. Arnold of Rugby), who
   discussed this subject. After pointing out the difference between the
   Gospel miracles and those recorded by ecclesiastical historians, the
   lecturer proceeded as follows: Some appear to be unable to conceive of
   belief or unbelief, except as having some ulterior object: "We believe
   this because we love it: we disbelieve it because we wish it to be
   disproved." There is, however, in minds more healthfully constituted a
   belief and a disbelief, founded solely upon the evidence of the case,
   arising neither out of partiality, nor out of prejudice against the
   supposed conclusions, which may result from its truth or falsehood. And
   in such a spirit the historical student will consider the case of
   Bede's and other historians' miracles. He will, I think, as a general
   rule, disbelieve them, for the immense multitude which he finds
   recorded, and which, I suppose, no credulity could believe in, shows
   sufficiently that on this point there was a total want of judgment and
   a blindness of belief generally existing which make the testimony
   wholly insufficient; and, while the external evidence in favor of these
   alleged miracles is so unsatisfactory, there are, for the most part,
   strong internal evidence against them. But with regard to some
   miracles, he will see that there is no strong a priori improbability in
   their occurence, but rather the contrary; as, for instance, when the
   first missionaries of the Gospel in a barbarous country are said to
   have been assisted by a manifestation of the spirit of power; and, if
   the evidence appears to warrant his belief, he will readily and gladly
   yield it. And in doing so he will have the countenance of a great man
   (Burke) who in his fragment of English history has not hesitated to
   express the same sentiments. Nor will he be unwilling, but most
   thankful, to find sufficient grounds for believing that not only at the
   beginning of the Gospel, but in ages long afterwards, believing prayer
   has received extraordinary answers; that it has been heard even in more
   than it might have dared to ask for. Yet, again, if the gift of
   faith--the gift as distinguished from the grace--of the faith which
   removes mountains, has been given to any in later times in remarkable
   measure the mighty works which such faith may have wrought cannot be
   incredible in themselves to those who remember our Lord's promise, and
   if it appears from satisfactory evidence that they were wrought
   actually, we shall believe them,--and believe with joy. Only as it is
   in most cases impossible to admit the trustworthiness of the evidence,
   our minds must remain at the most in a state of suspense; and I do not
   know why it is necessary to come to any positive decision.'"--"The
   Fathers for English Readers": St. Hilary of Poitiers and St. Martin of
   Tours, p. 191. On this subject it has lately been said: "Most, if not
   all, of the so-called miracles which were supposed to surround Martin
   with a blaze of glow were either absolutely and on the face of them
   false; or were gross exaggerations of natural events; or were
   subjective impressions clothed in objective images; or were the
   distortions of credulous rumor; or at the best cannot claim in their
   favor a single particle of trustworthy evidence. They cannot be
   narrated as though they were actual events. Martin was an eminent
   bishop but half of the wonderful deeds attributed to him are unworthy
   and absurd."--Farrar's Lives of the Fathers, I. 644.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   Military Service of St. Martin.

   Martin, then, was born at Sabaria [3] in Pannonia, but was brought up
   at Ticinum, [4] which is situated in Italy. His parents were, according
   to the judgment of the world, of no mean rank, but were heathens. His
   father was at first simply a soldier, but afterwards a military
   tribune. He himself in his youth following military pursuits was
   enrolled in the imperial guard, first under king Constantine, and then
   under Julian Caesar. This, however, was not done of his own free will,
   for, almost from his earliest years, the holy infancy of the
   illustrious boy aspired rather to the service of God. [5] For, when he
   was of the age of ten years, he betook himself, against the wish of his
   parents, to the Church, and begged that he might become a catechumen.
   Soon afterwards, becoming in a wonderful manner completely devoted to
   the service of God, when he was twelve years old, he desired to enter
   on the life of a hermit; and he would have followed up that desire with
   the necessary vows, had not his as yet too youthful age prevented. His
   mind, however, being always engaged on matters pertaining to the
   monasteries or the Church, already meditated in his boyish years what
   he afterwards, as a professed servant of Christ, fulfilled. But when an
   edict was issued by the ruling powers [6] in the state, that the sons
   of veterans should be enrolled for military service, and he, on the
   information furnished by his father, (who looked with an evil eye on
   his blessed actions) having been seized and put in chains, when he was
   fifteen years old, was compelled to take the military oath, then showed
   himself content with only one servant as his attendant. And even to
   him, changing places as it were, he often acted as though, while really
   master, he had been inferior; to such a degree that, for the most part,
   he drew off his [servant's] boots and cleaned them with his own hand;
   while they took their meals together, the real master, however,
   generally acting the part of servant. During nearly three years before
   his baptism, he was engaged in the profession of arms, but he kept
   completely free from those vices in which that class of men become too
   frequently involved. He showed exceeding kindness towards his
   fellow-soldiers, and held them in wonderful affection; while his
   patience and humility surpassed what seemed possible to human nature.
   There is no need to praise the self-denial which he displayed: it was
   so great that, even at that date, he was regarded not so much as being
   a soldier as a monk. By all these qualities he had so endeared himself
   to the whole body of his comrades, that they esteemed him while they
   marvelously loved him. Although not yet made a new creature [7] in
   Christ, he, by his good works, acted the part of a candidate for
   baptism. This he did, for instance, by aiding those who were in
   trouble, by furnishing assistance to the wretched, by supporting the
   needy, by clothing the naked, while he reserved nothing for himself
   from his military pay except what was necessary for his daily
   sustenance. Even then, far from being a senseless hearer of the Gospel,
   he so far complied with its precepts as to take no thought about the
   morrow.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [3] Sarwar.

   [4] Pavia.

   [5] The text is here corrupt and uncertain, but the general meaning is
   plain to the above effect. Hahn has adopted "divinam servitutem,"
   instead of the common "divina servitute."

   [6] Sulpitius uses reges instead of the more common expression
   imperatores.

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

    Chapter III.

   Christ appears to St. Martin.

   Accordingly, at a certain period, when he had nothing except his arms
   and his simple military dress, in the middle of winter, a winter which
   had shown itself more severe than ordinary, so that the extreme cold
   was proving fatal to many, he happened to meet at the gate of the city
   of Amiens [8] a poor man destitute of clothing. He was entreating those
   that passed by to have compassion upon him, but all passed the wretched
   man without notice, when Martin, that man full of God, recognized that
   a being to whom others showed no pity, was, in that respect, left to
   him. Yet, what should he do? He had nothing except the cloak in which
   he was clad, for he had already parted with the rest of his garments
   for similar purposes. Taking, therefore, his sword with which he was
   girt, he divided his cloak into two equal parts, and gave one part to
   the poor man, while he again clothed himself with the remainder. Upon
   this, some of the by-standers laughed, because he was now an unsightly
   object, and stood out as but partly dressed. Many, however, who were of
   sounder understanding, groaned deeply because they themselves had done
   nothing similar. They especially felt this, because, being possessed of
   more than Martin, they could have clothed the poor man without reducing
   themselves to nakedness. In the following night, when Martin had
   resigned himself to sleep, he had a vision of Christ arrayed in that
   part of his cloak with which he had clothed the poor man. He
   contemplated the Lord with the greatest attention, and was told to own
   as his the robe which he had given. Ere long, he heard Jesus saying
   with a clear voice to the multitude of angels standing round--"Martin,
   who is still but a catechumen, clothed [9] me with this robe." The
   Lord, truly mindful of his own words (who had said when on
   earth--"Inasmuch [10] as ye have done these things to one of the least
   of these, ye have done them unto me), declared that he himself had been
   clothed in that poor man; and to confirm the testimony he bore to so
   good a deed, he condescended to show him himself in that very dress
   which the poor man had received. After this vision the sainted man was
   not puffed up with human glory, but, acknowledging the goodness of God
   in what had been done, and being now of the age of twenty years, he
   hastened to receive baptism. He did not, however, all at once, retire
   from military service, yielding to the entreaties of his tribune, whom
   he admitted to be his familiar tent-companion. [11] For the tribune
   promised that, after the period of his office had expired, he too would
   retire from the world. Martin, kept back by the expectation of this
   event, continued, although but in name, to act the part of a soldier,
   for nearly two years after he had received baptism.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [8] The place here called by Sulpitius "Ambianensium civitas" was also
   known as "Samarobriva," and is supposed to be the modern Amiens.

   [9] St. Matt. xxv. 40.

   [10] There is a peculiar use of quamdiu in the old Latin rendering of
   the passage here quoted. It is used as an equivalent for the Greek eph'
   hoson, no doubt with the meaning "inasmuch as."

   [11] Comp. Tacitus, Agric. chap. 5, "electus, quem contubernio
   aestimaret."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   Martin retires from Military Service.

   In the meantime, as the barbarians were rushing within the two
   divisions of Gaul, Julian Caesar, [12] bringing an army together at the
   city [13] of the Vaugiones, began to distribute a donative to the
   soldiers.  As was the custom in such a case, they were called forward,
   one by one, until it came to the turn of Martin. Then, indeed, judging
   it a suitable opportunity for seeking his discharge--for he did not
   think it would be proper for him, if he were not to continue in the
   service, to receive a donative--he said to Caesar, "Hitherto I have
   served you as a soldier: allow me now to become a soldier to God: let
   the man who is to serve thee receive thy donative: I am the soldier of
   Christ: it is not lawful for me to fight." Then truly the tyrant
   stormed on hearing such words, declaring that, from fear of the battle,
   which was to take place on the morrow, and not from any religious
   feeling, Martin withdrew from the service. But Martin, full of courage,
   yea all the more resolute from the danger that had been set before him,
   exclaims, "If this conduct of mine is ascribed to cowardice, and not to
   faith, I will take my stand unarmed before the line of battle tomorrow,
   and in the name of the Lord Jesus, protected by the sign of the cross,
   and not by shield or helmet, I will safely penetrate the ranks of the
   enemy." He is ordered, therefore, to be thrust back into prison,
   determined on proving his words true by exposing himself unarmed to the
   barbarians. But, on the following day, the enemy sent ambassadors to
   treat about peace and surrendered both themselves and all their
   possessions. In these circumstances who can doubt that this victory was
   due to the saintly man? It was granted him that he should not be sent
   unarmed to the fight. And although the good Lord could have preserved
   his own soldier, even amid the swords and darts of the enemy, yet that
   his blessed eyes might not be pained by witnessing the death of others,
   he removed all necessity for fighting. For Christ did not require to
   secure any other victory in behalf of his own soldier, than that, the
   enemy being subdued without bloodshed, no one should suffer death.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [12] Commonly known as Julian the Apostate.

   [13] This city was called Borbetomagus, and is represented by the
   modern Worms.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   Martin converts a Robber to the Faith.

   From that time quitting military service, Martin earnestly sought after
   the society of Hilarius, bishop of the city Pictava, [14] whose faith
   in the things of God was then regarded as of high renown, and in
   universal esteem. For some time Martin made his abode with him. Now,
   this same Hilarius, having instituted him in the office of the
   diaconate, endeavored still more closely to attach him to himself, and
   to bind him by leading him to take part in Divine service. But when he
   constantly refused, crying out that he was unworthy, Hilarius, as being
   a man of deep penetration, perceived that he could only be constrained
   in this way, if he should lay that sort of office upon him, in
   discharging which there should seem to be a kind of injury done him. He
   therefore appointed him to be an exorcist. Martin did not refuse this
   appointment, from the fear that he might seem to have looked down upon
   it as somewhat humble. Not long after this, he was warned in a dream
   that he should visit his native land, and more particularly his
   parents, who were still involved in heathenism, with a regard for their
   religious interests. He set forth in accordance with the expressed wish
   of the holy Hilarius, and, after being adjured by him with many prayers
   and tears, that he would in due time return. According to report Martin
   entered on that journey in a melancholy frame of mind, after calling
   the brethren to witness that many sufferings lay before him. The result
   fully justified this prediction. For, first of all, having followed
   some devious paths among the Alps, he fell into the hands of robbers.
   And when one of them lifted up his axe and poised it above Martin's
   head, another of them met with his right hand the blow as it fell;
   nevertheless, having had his hands bound behind his back, he was handed
   over to one of them to be guarded and stripped. The robber, having led
   him to a private place apart from the rest, began to enquire of him who
   he was. Upon this, Martin replied that he was a Christian. The robber
   next asked him whether he was afraid. Then indeed Martin most
   courageously replied that he never before had felt so safe, because he
   knew that the mercy of the Lord would be especially present with him in
   the midst of trials. He added that he grieved rather for the man in
   whose hands he was, because, by living a life of robbery, he was
   showing himself unworthy of the mercy of Christ. And then entering on a
   discourse concerning Evangelical truth, he preached the word of God to
   the robber. Why should I delay stating the result? The robber believed;
   and, after expressing his respect for Martin, he restored him to the
   way, entreating him to pray the Lord for him. That same robber was
   afterwards seen leading a religious life; so that, in fact, the
   narrative I have given above is based upon an account furnished by
   himself.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [14] This city of the Pictones (or Pictavi) who are mentioned by
   Caesar, Bell Gall. iii. 11. Their territory corresponded to the modern
   diocese of Poitiers.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   The Devil throws himself in the Way of Martin.

   Martin, then, having gone on from thence, after he had passed Milan,
   the devil met him in the way, having assumed the form of a man. The
   devil first asked him to what place he was going. Martin having
   answered him to the effect that he was minded to go whithersoever the
   Lord called him, the devil said to him, "Wherever you go, or whatever
   you attempt, the devil will resist you." Then Martin, replying to him
   in the prophetical word, said, "The Lord is my helper; I will not fear
   what man can do unto me." [15] Upon this, his enemy immediately
   vanished out of his sight; and thus, as he had intended in his heart
   and mind, he set free his mother from the errors of heathenism, though
   his father continued to cleave to its evils. However, he saved many by
   his example.

   After this, when the Arian heresy had spread through the whole world,
   and was especially powerful in Illyria, and when he, almost
   single-handed, was fighting most strenuously against the treachery of
   the priests, and had been subjected to many punishments (for he was
   publicly scourged, and at last was compelled to leave the city), again
   betaking himself to Italy, and having found the Church in the two
   divisions of Gaul in a distracted condition through the departure also
   of the holy Hilarius, whom the violence of the heretics had driven into
   exile, he established a monastery for himself at Milan. There, too,
   Auxentius, the originator and leader of the Arians, bitterly persecuted
   him; and, after he had assailed him with many injuries, violently
   expelled him from the city. Thinking, therefore, that it was necessary
   to yield to circumstances, he withdrew to the island Gallinaria, [16]
   with a certain presbyter as his companion, a man of distinguished
   excellences. Here he subsisted for some time on the roots of plants;
   and, while doing so, he took for food hellebore, which is, as people
   say, a poisonous kind of grass. But when he perceived the strength of
   the poison increasing within him, and death now nearly at hand, he
   warded off the imminent danger by means of prayer, and immediately all
   his pains were put to flight. And not long after having discovered
   that, through penitence on the part of the king, permission to return
   had been granted to holy Hilarius, he made an effort to meet him at
   Rome, and, with this view, set out for that city.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [15] Comp. Ps. cxviii. 6.

   [16] An island near Albium Ingaunum--the modern Allenga, on the gulf of
   Genoa. The island was so named from abounding in fowls in a half tamed
   state. It still bears the name of Gallinaria.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   Martin restores a Catechumen to Life.

   As Hilarius had already gone away, so Martin followed in his footsteps;
   and having been most joyously welcomed by him, he established for
   himself a monastery not far from the town. At this time a certain
   catechumen joined him, being desirous of becoming instructed in the
   doctrines [17] and habits of the most holy man. But, after the lapse
   only of a few days, the catechumen, seized with a languor, began to
   suffer from a violent fever. It so happened that Martin had then left
   home, and having remained away three days, he found on his return that
   life had departed from the catechumen; and so suddenly had death
   occurred, that he had left this world without receiving baptism. The
   body being laid out in public was being honored by the last sad offices
   on the part of the mourning brethren, when Martin hurries up to them
   with tears and lamentations. But then laying hold, as it were, of the
   Holy Spirit, with the whole powers of his mind, he orders the others to
   quit the cell in which the body was lying; and bolting the door, he
   stretches himself at full length on the dead limbs of the departed
   brother. Having given himself for some time to earnest prayer, and
   perceiving by means of the Spirit of God that power was present, [18]
   he then rose up for a little, and gazing on the countenance of the
   deceased, he waited without misgiving for the result of his prayer and
   of the mercy of the Lord. And scarcely had the space of two hours
   elapsed, when he saw the dead man begin to move a little in all his
   members, and to tremble with his eyes opened for the practice of sight.
   Then indeed, turning to the Lord with a loud voice and giving thanks,
   he filled the cell with his ejaculations. Hearing the noise, those who
   had been standing at the door immediately rush inside. And truly a
   marvelous spectacle met them, for they beheld the man alive whom they
   had formerly left dead. Thus being restored to life, and having
   immediately obtained baptism, he lived for many years afterwards; and
   he was the first who offered himself to us both as a subject that had
   experienced the virtues [19] of Martin, and as a witness to their
   existence.  The same man was wont to relate that, when he left the
   body, he was brought before the tribunal of the Judge, and being
   assigned to gloomy regions and vulgar crowds, he received a severe [20]
   sentence. Then, however, he added, it was suggested by two angels of
   the Judge that he was the man for whom Martin was praying; and that, on
   this account, he was ordered to be led back by the same angels, and
   given up to Martin, and restored to his former life. From this time
   forward, the name of the sainted man became illustrious, so that, as
   being reckoned holy by all, he was also deemed powerful and truly
   apostolical.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [17] All this seems to be implied in the words "institui disciplinis."

   [18] "adesse virtutem."

   [19] Or "powers" according to the use of the Greek word dunamis in Luke
   viii. 46.

   [20] Here again it is to be noted what fatal consequences were supposed
   to flow from dying without receiving baptism.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Martin restores one that had been strangled.

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

    Chapter IX.

   High Esteem in which Martin was held.

   Nearly about the same time, Martin was called upon to undertake the
   episcopate of the church at Tours; [21] but when he could not easily be
   drawn forth from his monastery, a certain Ruricius, one of the
   citizens, pretending that his wife was ill, and casting himself down at
   his knees, prevailed on him to go forth. Multitudes of the citizens
   having previously been posted by the road on which he traveled, he is
   thus under a kind of guard escorted to the city. An incredible number
   of people not only from that town, but also from the neighboring
   cities, had, in a wonderful manner, assembled to give their votes. [22]
   There was but one wish among all, there were the same prayers, and
   there was the same fixed opinion to the effect that Martin was most
   worthy of the episcopate, and that the church would be happy with such
   a priest. A few persons, however, and among these some of the bishops,
   who had been summoned to appoint a chief priest, were impiously
   offering resistance, asserting forsooth that Martin's person was
   contemptible, that he was unworthy of the episcopate, that he was a man
   despicable in countenance, that his clothing was mean, and his hair
   disgusting. This madness of theirs was ridiculed by the people of
   sounder judgment, inasmuch as such objectors only proclaimed the
   illustrious character of the man, while they sought to slander him. Nor
   truly was it allowed them to do anything else, than what the people,
   following the Divine will, desired [23] to be accomplished. Among the
   bishops, however, who had been present, a certain one of the name
   Defensor is said to have specially offered opposition; and on this
   account it was observed that he was at the time severely censured in
   the reading from the prophets. For when it so happened that the reader,
   whose duty it was to read in public that day, being blocked out by the
   people, failed to appear, the officials falling into confusion, while
   they waited for him who never came, one of those standing by, laying
   hold of the Psalter, seized upon the first verse which presented itself
   to him. Now, the Psalm ran thus: "Out of the mouth of babes and
   sucklings thou hast perfected praise because of thine enemies, that
   thou mightest destroy the enemy and the avenger." [24] On these words
   being read, a shout was raised by the people, and the opposite party
   were confounded. It was believed that this Psalm had been chosen by
   Divine ordination, that Defensor [25] might hear a testimony to his own
   work, because the praise of the Lord was perfected out of the mouth of
   babes and sucklings in the case of Martin, while the enemy was at the
   same time both pointed out and destroyed.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [21] The Turones occupied territory on both sides of the river Loire.
   Caesar refers to them (Bell. Gall. ii. 35, &c.). Their chief town was
   named Caesarodunum, the modern Tours.

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

   [23] We here adopt Halm's reading "cogitabat," in preference to the
   usual "cogebat."

   [24] Ps. viii. 3.

   [25] The word translated "avenger" in the English A.V. is "defensor" in
   the Vulgate, and thus the man referred to would have seemed to be
   expressly named.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   Martin as Bishop of Tours.

   And now having entered on the episcopal office, it is beyond my power
   fully to set forth how Martin distinguished himself in the discharge of
   its duties. For he remained with the utmost constancy, the same as he
   had been before. There was the same humility in his heart, and the same
   homeliness in his garments. Full alike of dignity and courtesy, he kept
   up the position of a bishop properly, yet in such a way as not to lay
   aside the objects and virtues of a monk. Accordingly he made use, for
   some time, of the cell connected with the church; but afterwards, when
   he felt it impossible to tolerate the disturbance caused by the numbers
   of those visiting it, he established a monastery for himself about two
   miles outside the city. This spot was so secret and retired that he
   enjoyed in it the solitude of a hermit. For, on one side, it was
   surrounded by a precipitous rock of a lofty mountain, while the river
   Loire had shut in the rest of the plain by a bay extending back for a
   little distance; and the place could be approached only by one, and
   that a very narrow passage. Here, then, he possessed a cell constructed
   of wood. Many also of the brethren had, in the same manner, fashioned
   retreats for themselves, but most of them had formed these out of the
   rock of the overhanging mountain, hollowed into caves. There were
   altogether eighty disciples, who were being disciplined after the
   example of the saintly master. No one there had anything which was
   called his own; all things were possessed in common. It was not allowed
   either to buy or to sell anything, as is the custom among most monks.
   No art was practiced there, except that of transcribers, and even this
   was assigned to the brethren of younger years, while the elders spent
   their time in prayer. Rarely did any one of them go beyond the cell,
   unless when they assembled at the place of prayer. They all took their
   food together, after the hour of fasting was past. No one used wine,
   except when illness compelled them to do so. Most of them were clothed
   in garments of camels' hair. [26] Any dress approaching to softness
   [27] was there deemed criminal, and this must be thought the more
   remarkable, because many among them were such as are deemed of noble
   rank. These, though far differently brought up, had forced themselves
   down to this degree of humility and patient endurance, and we have seen
   numbers of these afterwards made bishops. For what city or church would
   there be that would not desire to have its priests from among those in
   the monastery of Martin?
     __________________________________________________________________

   [26] Cf. St. Matt. iii. 4.

   [27] In St. Matt. xi. 8, there is a reference to those "that wear soft
   clothing,"--hoi ta malaka phorountes.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   Martin demolishes an Altar consecrated to a Robber.

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

    Chapter XII.

   Martin causes the Bearers of a Dead Body to stop.

   Now, it came to pass some time after the above, that while Martin was
   going a journey, he met the body of a certain heathen, which was being
   carried to the tomb with superstitious funeral rites. Perceiving from a
   distance the crowd that was approaching, and being ignorant as to what
   was going on, he stood still for a little while. For there was a
   distance of nearly half a mile between him and the crowd, so that it
   was difficult to discover what the spectacle he beheld really was.
   Nevertheless, because he saw it was a rustic gathering, and when the
   linen clothes spread over the body were blown about by the action of
   the wind, he believed that some profane rites of sacrifice were being
   performed. This thought occurred to him, because it was the custom of
   the Gallic rustics in their wretched folly to carry about through the
   fields the images of demons veiled with a white covering. Lifting up,
   therefore, the sign of the cross opposite to them, he commanded the
   crowd not to move from the place in which they were, and to set down
   the burden. Upon this, the miserable creatures might have been seen at
   first to become stiff like rocks. Next, as they endeavored, with every
   possible effort, to move forward, but were not able to take a step
   farther, they began to whirl themselves about in the most ridiculous
   fashion, until, not able any longer to sustain the weight, they set
   down the dead body. Thunderstruck, and gazing in bewilderment at each
   other as not knowing what had happened to them they remained sunk in
   silent thought. But when the saintly man discovered that they were
   simply a band of peasants celebrating funeral rites, and not sacrifices
   to the gods, again raising his hand, he gave them the power of going
   away, and of lifting up the body. Thus he both compelled them to stand
   when he pleased, and permitted them to depart when he thought good.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   Martin escapes from a Falling Pine-tree.

   Again, when in a certain village he had demolished a very ancient
   temple, and had set about cutting down a pine-tree, which stood close
   to the temple, the chief priest of that place, and a crowd of other
   heathens began to oppose him. And these people, though, under the
   influence of the Lord, they had been quiet while the temple was being
   overthrown, could not patiently allow the tree to be cut down. Martin
   carefully instructed them that there was nothing sacred in the trunk of
   a tree, and urged them rather to honor God whom he himself served. He
   added that there was a moral necessity why that tree should be cut
   down, because it had been dedicated to a demon. Then one of them who
   was bolder than the others says, "If you have any trust in thy God,
   whom you say you worship, we ourselves will cut down this tree, and be
   it your part to receive it when falling; for if, as you declare, your
   Lord is with you, you will escape all injury." Then Martin,
   courageously trusting in the Lord, promises that he would do what had
   been asked. Upon this, all that crowd of heathen agreed to the
   condition named; for they held the loss of their tree a small matter,
   if only they got the enemy of their religion buried beneath its fall.
   Accordingly, since that pine-tree was hanging over in one direction, so
   that there was no doubt to what side it would fall on being cut,
   Martin, having been bound, is, in accordance with the decision of these
   pagans, placed in that spot where, as no one doubted, the tree was
   about to fall. They began, therefore, to cut down their own tree, with
   great glee and joyfulness, while there was at some distance a great
   multitude of wondering spectators. And now the pine-tree began to
   totter, and to threaten its [28] own ruin by falling. The monks at a
   distance grew pale, and, terrified by the danger ever coming nearer,
   had lost all hope and confidence, expecting only the death of Martin.
   But he, trusting in the Lord, and waiting courageously, when now the
   falling pine had uttered its expiring crash, while it was now falling,
   while it was just rushing upon him, simply holding up his hand against
   it, he put in its way the sign of salvation. Then, indeed, after the
   manner of a spinning-top (one might have thought it driven [29] back),
   it swept round to the opposite side, to such a degree that it almost
   crushed the rustics, who had taken their places there in what was
   deemed a safe spot. Then truly, a shout being raised to heaven, the
   heathen were amazed by the miracle, while the monks wept for joy; and
   the name of Christ was in common extolled by all. The well-known result
   was that on that day salvation came to that region. For there was
   hardly one of that immense multitude of heathens who did not express a
   desire for the imposition of hands, and abandoning his impious errors,
   made a profession of faith in the Lord Jesus. Certainly, before the
   times of Martin, very few, nay, almost none, in those regions had
   received the name of Christ; but through his virtues and example that
   name has prevailed to such an extent, that now there is no place
   thereabouts which is not filled either with very crowded churches or
   monasteries. For wherever he destroyed heathen temples, there he used
   immediately to build either churches or monasteries.
     __________________________________________________________________

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

   [29] It seems better to preserve the parenthesis than to translate the
   words as they stand in Halm's text, "tum vero--velut turbinis modo
   retro actam putares--diversam in partem ruit."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   Martin destroys Heathen Temples and Altars.

   Nor did he show less eminence, much about the same time, in other
   transactions of a like kind. For, having in a certain village set fire
   to a very ancient and celebrated temple, the circle of flames was
   carried by the action of the wind upon a house which was very close to,
   yea, connected with, the temple. When Martin perceived this, he climbed
   by rapid ascent to the roof of the house, presenting himself in front
   of the advancing flames. Then indeed might the fire have been seen
   thrust back in a wonderful manner against the force of the wind, so
   that there appeared a sort of conflict of the two elements fighting
   together. Thus, by the influence of Martin, the fire only acted in the
   place where it was ordered to do so. But in a village which was named
   Leprosum, when he too wished to overthrow a temple which had acquired
   great wealth through the superstitious ideas entertained of its
   sanctity, a multitude of the heathen resisted him to such a degree that
   he was driven back not without bodily injury. He, therefore, withdrew
   to a place in the vicinity, and there for three days, clothed in
   sackcloth [30] and ashes fasting and praying the whole time, he
   besought the Lord, that, as he had not been able to overthrow that
   temple by human effort, Divine power might be exerted to destroy it.
   Then two angels, with spears and shields after the manner of heavenly
   warriors, suddenly presented themselves to him, saying that they were
   sent by the Lord to put to flight the rustic multitude, and to furnish
   protection to Martin, lest, while the temple was being destroyed, any
   one should offer resistance. They told him therefore to return, and
   complete the blessed work which he had begun. Accordingly Martin
   returned to the village; and while the crowds of heathen looked on in
   perfect quiet as he razed the pagan temple even to the foundations, he
   also reduced all the altars and images to dust. At this sight the
   rustics, when they perceived that they had been so astounded and
   terrified by an intervention of the Divine will, that they might not be
   found fighting against the bishop, almost all believed in the Lord
   Jesus. They then began to cry out openly and to confess that the God of
   Martin ought to be worshiped, and that the idols should be despised,
   which were not able to help them.
     __________________________________________________________________

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

    Chapter XV.

   Martin offers his Neck to an Assassin.

   I shall also relate what took place in the village of the AEdui. When
   Martin was there overthrowing a temple, a multitude of rustic heathen
   rushed upon him in a frenzy of rage. And when one of them, bolder than
   the rest, made an attack upon him with a drawn sword, Martin, throwing
   back his cloak, offered his bare neck to the assassin. Nor did the
   heathen delay to strike, but in the very act of lifting up his right
   arm, he fell to the ground on his back, and being overwhelmed by the
   fear of God, he entreated for pardon. Not unlike this was that other
   event which happened to Martin, that when a certain man had resolved to
   wound him with a knife as he was destroying some idols, at the very
   moment of fetching the blow, the weapon was struck out of his hands and
   disappeared. Very frequently, too, when the pagans were addressing him
   to the effect that he would not overthrow their temples, he so soothed
   and conciliated the minds of the heathen by his holy discourse that,
   the light of truth having been revealed to them, they themselves
   overthrew their own temples.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   Cures effected by St. Martin.

   Moreover, the gift [31] of accomplishing cures was so largely possessed
   by Martin, that scarcely any sick person came to him for assistance
   without being at once restored to health. This will clearly appear from
   the following example. A certain girl at Treves [32] was so completely
   prostrated by a terrible paralysis that for a long time she had been
   quite unable to make use of her body for any purpose, and being, as it
   were, already dead, only the smallest breath of life seemed still to
   remain in her. Her afflicted relatives were standing by, expecting
   nothing but her death, when it was suddenly announced that Martin had
   come to that city. When the father of the girl found that such was the
   case, he ran to make a request in behalf of his all but lifeless child.
   It happened that Martin had already entered the church. There, while
   the people were looking on, and in the presence of many other bishops,
   the old man, uttering a cry of grief, embraced the saint's knees and
   said: "My daughter is dying of a miserable kind of infirmity; and, what
   is more dreadful than death itself, she is now alive only in the
   spirit, her flesh being already dead before the time. I beseech thee to
   go to her, and give her thy blessing; for I believe that through you
   she will be restored to health." Martin, troubled by such an address,
   was bewildered, and shrank back, saying that this was a matter not in
   his own hands; that the old man was mistaken in the judgment he had
   formed; and that he was not worthy to be the instrument through whom
   the Lord should make a display of his power. The father, in tears,
   persevered in still more earnestly pressing the case, and entreated
   Martin to visit the dying girl. At last, constrained by the bishops
   standing by to go as requested, he went down to the home of the girl.
   An immense crowd was waiting at the doors, to see what the servant of
   the Lord would do. And first, betaking himself to his familiar arms in
   affairs of that kind, he cast himself down on the ground and prayed.
   Then gazing earnestly upon the ailing girl, he requests that oil should
   be given him. After he had received and blessed this, he poured the
   powerful sacred liquid into the mouth of the girl, and immediately her
   voice returned to her. Then gradually, through contact with him, her
   limbs began, one by one, to recover life, till, at last, in the
   presence of the people, she arose with firm steps.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [31] The Latin word gratia here corresponds to the Greek charisma. St.
   Paul says much respecting the various charismata in 1 Cor. xii., and
   speaks, among others, of charismata iamaton (v. 9).

   [32] The name Treveri at first denoted the people (as often in Caesar,
   Bell. Gall. i. 37, &c.), and was afterwards applied to their chief
   city, the modern Treves.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   Martin casts out Several Devils.

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

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

    Chapter XVIII.

   Martin performs Various Miracles.

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

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

    Chapter XIX.

   A Letter of Martin effects a Cure, with Other Miracles.

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

   Paulinus, too, a man who was afterwards to furnish a striking example
   of the age, having begun to suffer grievously in one of his eyes, and
   when a pretty thick skin [33] having grown over it had already covered
   up its pupil, Martin touched his eye with a painter's brush, and, all
   pain being removed, thus restored it to its former soundness. He
   himself also, when, by a certain accident, he had fallen out of an
   upper room, and tumbling down a broken, uneven stair, had received many
   wounds, as he lay in his cell at the point of death, and was tortured
   with grievous sufferings, saw in the night an angel appear to him, who
   washed his wounds, and applied healing ointment to the bruised members
   of his body. As the effect of this, he found himself on the morrow
   restored to soundness of health, so that he was not thought to have
   suffered any harm. But because it would be tedious to go through
   everything of this kind, let these examples suffice, as a few out of a
   multitude; and let it be enough that we do not in striking cases [of
   miraculous interposition] detract from the truth, while, having so many
   to choose from, we avoid exciting weariness in the reader.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [33] "Nubes," lit. "a cloud."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   How Martin acted towards the Emperor Maximus.

   And here to insert some smaller matters among things so great (although
   such is the nature of our times in which all things have fallen into
   decay and corruption, it is almost a pre-eminent virtue for priestly
   firmness not to have yielded to royal flattery), when a number of
   bishops from various parts had assembled to the Emperor Maximus, a man
   of fierce character, and at that time elated with the victory he had
   won in the civil wars, and when the disgraceful flattery of all around
   the emperor was generally remarked, while the priestly dignity had,
   with degenerate submissiveness, taken a second place to the royal
   retinue, in Martin alone, apostolic authority continued to assert
   itself. For even if he had to make suit to the sovereign for some
   things, he commanded rather than entreated him; and although often
   invited, he kept away from his entertainments, saying that he could not
   take a place at the table of one who, out of two emperors, had deprived
   one of his kingdom, and the other of his life. At last, when Maximus
   maintained that he had not of his own accord assumed the sovereignty,
   but that he had simply defended by arms the necessary requirements [34]
   of the empire, regard to which had been imposed upon him by the
   soldiers, according to the Divine appointment, and that the favor of
   God did not seem wanting to him who, by an event seemingly so
   incredible, had secured the victory, adding to that the statement that
   none of his adversaries had been slain except in the open field of
   battle, at length, Martin, overcome either by his reasoning or his
   entreaties, came to the royal banquet. The king was wonderfully pleased
   because he had gained this point. Moreover, there were guests present
   who had been invited as if to a festival; men of the highest and most
   illustrious rank,--the prefect, who was also consul, named Evodius, one
   of the most righteous men that ever lived; two courtiers possessed of
   the greatest power, the brother and uncle of the king, while between
   these two, the presbyter of Martin had taken his place; but he himself
   occupied a seat which was set quite close to the king. About the middle
   of the banquet, according to custom, one of the servants presented a
   goblet to the king. He orders it rather to be given to the very holy
   bishop, expecting and hoping that he should then receive the cup from
   his right hand. But Martin, when he had drunk, handed the goblet to his
   own presbyter, as thinking no one worthier to drink next to himself,
   and holding that it would not be right for him to prefer either the
   king himself, or those who were next the king, to the presbyter. And
   the emperor, as well as all those who were then present, admired this
   conduct so much, that this very thing, by which they had been
   undervalued, gave them pleasure. The report then ran through the whole
   palace that Martin had done, at the king's dinner, what no bishop had
   dared to do at the banquets of the lowest judges. And Martin predicted
   to the same Maximus long before, that if he went into Italy to which he
   then desired to go, waging war, against the Emperor Valentinianus, it
   would come to pass that he should know he would [35] indeed be
   victorious in the first attack, but would perish a short time
   afterwards. And we have seen that this did in fact take place. For, on
   his first arrival Valentinianus had to betake himself to flight but
   recovering his strength about a year afterwards, Maximus was taken and
   slain by him within the walls of Aquileia.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [34] "Regni necessitatem"--an awkward expression.

   [35] There is considerable confusion in this sentence.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   Martin has to do both with Angels and Devils.

   It is also well known that angels were very often seen by him, so that
   they spoke in turns with him in set speech. As to the devil, Martin
   held him so visible and ever under the power of his eyes, that whether
   he kept himself in his proper form, or changed himself into different
   shapes of spiritual wickedness, he was perceived by Martin, under
   whatever guise he appeared. The devil knew well that he could not
   escape discovery, and therefore frequently heaped insults upon Martin,
   being unable to beguile him by trickery. On one occasion the devil,
   holding in his hand the bloody horn of an ox, rushed into Martin's cell
   with great noise, and holding out to him his bloody right hand, while
   at the same time he exulted in the crime he had committed, said:
   "Where, O Martin, is thy power? I have just slain one of your people."
   Then Martin assembled the brethren, and related to them what the devil
   had disclosed, while he ordered them carefully to search the several
   cells in order to discover who had been visited with this calamity.
   They report that no one of the monks was missing, but that one peasant,
   hired by them, had gone to the forest to bring home wood in his wagon.
   Upon hearing this, Martin instructs some of them to go and meet him. On
   their doing so, the man was found almost dead at no great distance from
   the monastery. Nevertheless, although just drawing his last breath, he
   made known to the brethren the cause of his wound and death. He said
   that, while he was drawing tighter the thongs which had got loose on
   the oxen yoked together, one of the oxen, throwing his head free, had
   wounded him with his horn in the groin. And not long after the man
   expired. You [36] see with what judgment of the Lord this power was
   given to the devil. This was a marvelous feature in Martin that not
   only on this occasion to which I have specially referred, but on many
   occasions of the same kind, in fact as often as such things occurred,
   he perceived them long beforehand, and [37] disclosed the things which
   had been revealed to him to the brethren.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [36] Halm reads the imperative "videris," "consider."

   [37] Halm reads "aut sibi nuntiata fratribus indicabat."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   Martin preaches Repentance even to the Devil.

   Now, the devil, while he tried to impose upon the holy man by a
   thousand injurious arts, often thrust himself upon him in a visible
   form, but in very various shapes. For sometimes he presented himself to
   his view changed into the person of Jupiter, often into that of Mercury
   and Minerva. Often, too, were heard words of reproach, in which the
   crowd of demons assailed Martin with scurrilous expressions. But
   knowing that all were false and groundless, he was not affected by the
   charges brought against him. Moreover, some of the brethren bore
   witness that they had heard a demon reproaching Martin in abusive
   terms, and asking why he had taken back, on their subsequent
   repentance, certain of the brethren who had, some time previously, lost
   their baptism by falling into various errors. The demon set forth the
   crimes of each of them; but they added that Martin, resisting the devil
   firmly, answered him, that by-past sins are cleansed away by the
   leading of a better life, and that through the mercy of God, those are
   to be absolved from their sins who have given up their evil ways. The
   devil saying in opposition to this that such guilty men as those
   referred to did not come within the pale of pardon, and that no mercy
   was extended by the Lord to those who had once fallen away, Martin is
   said to have cried out in words to the following effect: "If thou,
   thyself, wretched being, wouldst but desist from attacking mankind, and
   even, at this period, when the day of judgment is at hand, wouldst only
   repent of your deeds, I, with a true confidence in the Lord, would
   promise you the mercy of Christ." [38] O what a holy boldness with
   respect to the loving-kindness of the Lord, in which, although he could
   not assert authority, he nevertheless showed the feelings dwelling
   within him! And since our discourse has here sprung up concerning the
   devil and his devices, it does not seem away from the point, although
   the matter does not bear immediately upon Martin, to relate what took
   place; both because the virtues of Martin do, to some extent, appear in
   the transaction, and the incident, which was worthy of a miracle, will
   properly be put on record, with the view of furnishing a caution,
   should anything of a similar character subsequently occur.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [38] This is a truly noteworthy passage. It anticipates a well-known
   sentiment of Burns, the national bard of Scotland. In his Address to
   the Deil, Burns has said that if the great enemy would only "tak a
   thocht an' men'," he might still have a chance of safety, and this idea
   seems very much in accordance with the opinion of St. Martin as
   expressed above. Hornius, however, is very indignant on account of it,
   and exclaims: "Intolerabilis hic Martini error. Nec Sulpicius
   excusatione sua demit, sed auget. Origenes primus ejus erroris author."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIII.

   A Case of Diabolic Deception.

   There was a certain man, Clarus by name, a most noble youth, who
   afterwards became a presbyter, and who is now, through his happy
   departure from this world, numbered among the saints. He, leaving all
   others, betook himself to Martin, and in a short time became
   distinguished for the most exalted faith, and for all sorts of
   excellence. Now, it came to pass that, when he had erected an abode for
   himself not far from the monastery of the bishop, and many brethren
   were staying with him, a certain youth, Anatolius by name, having,
   under the profession of a monk, falsely assumed every appearance of
   humility and innocence, came to him, and lived for some time on the
   common store along with the rest. Then, as time went on, he began to
   affirm that angels were in the habit of talking with him. As no one
   gave any credit to his words, he urged a number of the brethren to
   believe by certain signs. At length he went to such a length as to
   declare that angels passed between him and God; and now he wished that
   he should be regarded as one of the prophets. Clarus, however, could by
   no means be induced to believe. He then began to threaten Clarus with
   the anger of God and present afflictions, because he did not believe
   one of the saints. At the last, he is related to have burst forth with
   the following declaration: "Behold, the Lord will this night give me a
   white robe out of heaven, clothed in which, I will dwell in the midst
   of you; and that will be to you a sign that I am the Power of God,
   inasmuch as I have been presented with the garment of God." Then truly
   the expectation of all was highly raised by this profession.
   Accordingly, about the middle of the night, it was seen, by the noise
   of people moving eagerly about, that the whole monastery in the place
   was excited. It might be seen, too, that the cell in which the young
   man referred to lived was glittering with numerous lights; and the
   whisperings of those moving about in it, as well as a kind of murmur of
   many voices, could be heard. Then, on silence being secured, the youth
   coming forth calls one of the brethren, Sabatius by name, to himself,
   and shows him the robe in which he had been clothed. He again, filled
   with amazement, gathers the rest together, and Clarus himself also runs
   up; and a light being obtained, they all carefully inspect the garment.
   Now, it was of the utmost softness, of marvelous brightness, and of
   glittering purple, and yet no one could discover what was its nature,
   or of what sort of fleece it had been formed. However, when it was more
   minutely examined by the eyes or fingers, it seemed nothing else than a
   garment. In the meantime, Clarus urges upon the brethren to be earnest
   in prayer, that the Lord would show them more clearly what it really
   was. Accordingly, the rest of the night was spent in singing hymns and
   psalms. But when day broke, Clarus wished to take the young man by the
   hand, and bring him to Martin, being well aware that he could not be
   deceived by any arts of the devil. Then, indeed, the miserable man
   began to resist and refuse, and affirmed that he had been forbidden to
   show himself to Martin. And when they compelled him to go against his
   will, the garment vanished from among the hands of those who were
   conducting him. Wherefore, who can doubt that this, too, was an
   illustration of the power of Martin, so that the devil could no longer
   dissemble or conceal his own deception, when it was to be submitted to
   the eyes of Martin?
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIV.

   Martin is tempted by the Wiles of the Devil.

   It was found, again, that about the same time there was a young man in
   Spain, who, having by many signs obtained for himself authority among
   the people, was puffed up to such a pitch that he gave himself out as
   being Elias. And when multitudes had too readily believed this, he went
   on to say that he was actually Christ; and he succeeded so well even in
   this delusion that a certain bishop named Rufus worshiped him as being
   the Lord. For so doing, we have seen this bishop at a later date
   deprived of his office. Many of the brethren have also informed me that
   at the same time one arose in the East, who boasted that he was John.
   We may infer from this, since false prophets of such a kind have
   appeared, that the coming of Antichrist is at hand; for he is already
   practicing in these persons the mystery of iniquity. And truly I think
   this point should not be passed over, with what arts the devil about
   this very time tempted Martin. For, on a certain day, prayer [39]
   having been previously offered, and the fiend himself being surrounded
   by a purple light, in order that he might the more easily deceive
   people by the brilliance of the splendor assumed, clothed also in a
   royal robe, and with a crown of precious stones and gold encircling his
   head, his shoes too being inlaid with gold, while he presented a
   tranquil countenance, and a generally rejoicing aspect, so that no such
   thought as that he was the devil might be entertained--he stood by the
   side of Martin as he was praying in his cell. The saint being dazzled
   by his first appearance, both preserved a long and deep silence. This
   was first broken by the devil, who said: "Acknowledge, Martin, who it
   is that you behold. I am Christ; and being just about to descend to
   earth, I wished first to manifest myself to thee." When Martin kept
   silence on hearing these words, and gave no answer whatever, the devil
   dared to repeat his audacious declaration: "Martin, why do you hesitate
   to believe, when you see? I am Christ." Then Martin, the Spirit
   revealing the truth to him, that he might understand it was the devil,
   and not God, replied as follows: "The Lord Jesus did not predict that
   he would come clothed in purple, and with a glittering crown upon his
   head. I will not believe that Christ has come, unless he appears with
   that appearance and form in which he suffered, and openly displaying
   the marks of his wounds upon the cross." On hearing these words, the
   devil vanished like smoke, and filled the cell with such a disgusting
   smell, that he left unmistakable evidences of his real character. This
   event, as I have just related, took place in the way which I have
   stated, and my information regarding it was derived from the lips of
   Martin himself; therefore let no one regard it as fabulous. [40]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [39] "Prece" for the usual reading "prae se."

   [40] In spite of the combined testimony of Martin and Sulpitius here
   referred to, few will have any doubts as to the real character of the
   narrative.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXV.

   Intercourse of Sulpitius with Martin.

   For since I, having long heard accounts of his faith, life and virtues,
   burned with a desire of knowing him, I undertook what was to me a
   pleasant journey for the purpose of seeing him. At the same time,
   because already my mind was inflamed with the desire of writing his
   life, I obtained my information partly from himself, in so far as I
   could venture to question him, and partly from those who had lived with
   him, or well knew the facts of the case. And at this time it is
   scarcely credible with what humility and with what kindness he received
   me; while he cordially wished me joy, and rejoiced in the Lord that he
   had been held in such high estimation by me that I had undertaken a
   journey owing to my desire of seeing him. Unworthy me! (in fact, I
   hardly dare acknowledge it), that he should have deigned to admit me to
   fellowship with him! He went so far as in person to present me with
   water to wash my hands, and at eventide he himself washed my feet; nor
   had I sufficient courage to resist or oppose his doing so. In fact, I
   felt so overcome by the authority he unconsciously exerted, that I
   deemed it unlawful to do anything but acquiesce in his arrangements.
   His conversation with me was all directed to such points as the
   following: that the allurements of this world and secular burdens were
   to be abandoned in order that we might be free and unencumbered in
   following the Lord Jesus; and he pressed upon me as an admirable
   example in present circumstances the conduct of that distinguished man
   Paulinus, of whom I have made mention above. Martin declared of him
   that, by parting with his great possessions and following Christ, as he
   did, he showed himself almost the only one who in these times had fully
   obeyed the precepts of the Gospel. He insisted strongly that that was
   the man who should be made the object of our imitation, adding that the
   present age was fortunate in possessing such a model of faith and
   virtue. For Paulinus, being rich and having many possessions, by
   selling them all and giving them to the poor according to the expressed
   will of the Lord, had, he said, made possible by actual proof what
   appeared impossible of accomplishment. What power and dignity there
   were in Martin's words and conversation! How active he was, how
   practical, and how prompt and ready in solving questions connected with
   Scripture! And because I know that many are incredulous on this
   point,--for indeed I have met with persons who did not believe me when
   I related such things,--I call to witness Jesus, and our common hope as
   Christians, that I never heard from any other lips than those of Martin
   such exhibitions of knowledge and genius, or such specimens of good and
   pure speech. But yet, how insignificant is all such praise when
   compared with the virtues which he possessed! Still, it is remarkable
   that in a man who had no claim to be called learned, even this
   attribute [of high intelligence] was not wanting.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVI.

   Words cannot describe the Excellences of Martin.

   But now my book must be brought to an end, and my discourse finished.
   This is not because all that was worthy of being said concerning Martin
   is now exhausted, but because I, just as sluggish poets grow less
   careful towards the end of their work, give over, being baffled by the
   immensity of the matter. For, although his outward deeds could in some
   sort of way be set forth in words, no language, I truly own, can ever
   be capable of describing his inner life and daily conduct, and his mind
   always bent upon the things of heaven. No one can adequately make known
   his perseverance and self-mastery in abstinence and fastings, or his
   power in watchings and prayers, along with the nights, as well as days,
   which were spent by him, while not a moment was separated from the
   service of God, either for indulging in ease, or engaging in business.
   But, in fact, he did not indulge either in food or sleep, except in so
   far as the necessities of nature required. I freely confess that, if,
   as the saying is, Homer himself were to ascend from the shades below,
   he could not do justice to this subject in words; to such an extent did
   all excellences surpass in Martin the possibility of being embodied in
   language. Never did a single hour or moment pass in which he was not
   either actually engaged in prayer; or, if it happened that he was
   occupied with something else, still he never let his mind loose from
   prayer. In truth, just as it is the custom of blacksmiths, in the midst
   of their work to beat their own anvil as a sort of relief to the
   laborer, so Martin even when he appeared to be doing something else,
   was still engaged in prayer. O truly blessed man in whom there was no
   guile--judging no man, condemning no man, returning evil for evil to no
   man! He displayed indeed such marvelous patience in the endurance of
   injuries, that even when he was chief [41] priest, he allowed himself
   to be wronged by the lowest clerics with impunity; nor did he either
   remove them from the office on account of such conduct, or, as far as
   in him lay, repel them from a place in his affection.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [41] "Summus sacerdos": "that is," remarks Hornius, "bishop. They were
   also in those ages styled Popes (Papae). This is clear from Cyprian,
   Jerome, and others of a much later age."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVII.

   Wonderful Piety of Martin.

   No one ever saw him enraged, or excited, or lamenting, or laughing; he
   was always one and the same: displaying a kind of heavenly happiness in
   his countenance, he seemed to have passed the ordinary limits of human
   nature. Never was there any word on his lips but Christ, and never was
   there a feeling in his heart except piety, peace, and tender mercy.
   Frequently, too, he used to weep for the sins of those who showed
   themselves his revilers--those who, as he led his retired and tranquil
   life, slandered him with poisoned tongue and a viper's mouth. And truly
   we have had experience of some who were envious of his virtues and his
   life--who really hated in him what they did not see in themselves, and
   what they had not power to imitate. And--O wickedness worthy of deepest
   grief and groans!--some of his calumniators, although very few, some of
   his maligners, I say, were reported to be no others than bishops! Here,
   however, it is not necessary to name any one, although a good many of
   these people are still venting [42] their spleen against myself. I
   shall deem it sufficient that, if any one of them reads this account,
   and perceives that he is himself pointed at, he may have the grace to
   blush. But if, on the other hand, he shows anger, he will, by that very
   fact, own that he is among those spoken of, though all the time perhaps
   I have been thinking of some other person. I shall, however, by no
   means feel ashamed if any people of that sort include myself in their
   hatred along with such a man as Martin. I am quite persuaded of this,
   that the present little work will give pleasure to all truly good men.
   And I shall only say further that, if any one read this narrative in an
   unbelieving spirit, he himself will fall into sin. I am conscious to
   myself that I have been induced by belief in the facts, and by the love
   of Christ, to write these things; and that, in doing so, I have set
   forth what is well known, and recorded what is true; and, as I trust,
   that man will have a reward prepared by God, not who shall read these
   things, but who shall believe them. [43]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [42] Lit. "are barking round about."

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

The Letters of Sulpitius Severus.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Letter I. To Eusebius.

   Against Some Envious Assailants of Martin.

   Yesterday a number of monks having come to me, it happened that amid
   endless fables, and much tiresome discourse, mention was made of the
   little work which I published concerning the life of that saintly man
   Martin, and I was most happy to hear that it was being eagerly and
   carefully read by multitudes. In the meantime, however, I was told that
   a certain person, under the influence of an evil spirit, had asked why
   Martin, who was said to have raised the dead and to have rescued houses
   from the flames, had himself recently become subject to the power of
   fire, and thus been exposed to suffering of a dangerous character.
   Wretched man, whoever he is, that expressed himself thus! We recognize
   his perfidious talk in the words of the Jews of old, who reviled the
   Lord, when hanging upon the cross, in the following terms: "He saved
   others; himself he cannot save." [44] Truly it is clear that, whoever
   be the person referred to, if he had lived in those times, he would
   have been quite prepared to speak against the Lord in these terms,
   inasmuch as he blasphemes a saint of the Lord, after a like fashion.
   How then, I ask thee, whosoever thou art, how does the case stand? Was
   Martin really not possessed of power, and not a partaker of holiness,
   because he became exposed to danger from fire? O thou blessed man, and
   in all things like to the Apostles, even in the reproaches which are
   thus heaped upon thee! Assuredly those Gentiles are reported to have
   entertained the same sort of thought respecting Paul also, when the
   viper had bitten him, for they said, "This man must be a murderer,
   whom, although saved from the sea, the fates do not permit to live."
   [45] But he, shaking off the viper into the fire, suffered no harm.
   They, however, imagined that he would suddenly fall down, and speedily
   die; but when they saw that no harm befell him, changing their minds,
   they said that he was a God. But, O thou most miserable of men, you
   ought, even from that example to have yourself been convinced of your
   falsity; so that, if it had proved a stumbling-block to thee that
   Martin appeared touched by the flame of fire, you should, on the other
   hand, have ascribed his being merely touched to his merits and power,
   because, though surrounded by flames, he did not perish. For
   acknowledge, thou miserable man, acknowledge what you seem ignorant of,
   that almost all the saints have been more remarkable for [46] the
   dangers they encountered, than even for the virtues they displayed. I
   see, indeed, Peter strong in faith, walking over the waves of the sea,
   in opposition to the nature of things, and that he pressed the unstable
   waters with his footprints. But not on that account does the preacher
   of the Gentiles [47] seem to me a smaller man, whom the waves swallowed
   up; and, after three days [48] and three nights, the water restored him
   emerging from the deep. Nay, I am almost inclined to think that it was
   a greater thing to have lived in the deep, than to have walked along
   the depths of the sea. But, thou foolish man, you had not, as I
   suppose, read these things; or, having read them, had not understood
   them. For the blessed Evangelist would not have recorded in holy writ
   an incident of that kind--under divine guidance--(except that, from
   such cases, the human mind might be instructed as to the dangers
   connected with shipwrecks and serpents!) and, as the Apostle relates,
   who gloried in his nakedness, and hunger, and perils from robbers, all
   these things are indeed to be endured in common by holy men, but that
   it has always been the chief excellence of the righteous in enduring
   and conquering such things, while amid all their trials, being patient
   and ever unconquerable, they overcame them all the more courageously,
   the heavier was the burden which they had to bear. Hence this event
   which is ascribed to the infirmity of Martin is, in reality, full of
   dignity and glory, since indeed, being tried by a most dangerous
   calamity, he came forth a conqueror. But let no one wonder that the
   incident referred to was omitted by me in that treatise which I wrote
   concerning his life, since in that very work I openly acknowledged that
   I had not embraced all his acts; and that for the good reason that, if
   I had been minded to narrate them all, I must have presented an
   enormous volume to my readers. And indeed, his achievements were not of
   so limited a number that they could all be comprehended in a book.
   Nevertheless, I shall not leave this incident, about which a question
   has arisen, to remain in obscurity, but shall relate the whole affair
   as it occurred, lest I should appear perchance to have intentionally
   passed over that which might be put forward in calumniation of the
   saintly man.

   Martin having, about the middle of winter, come to a certain parish,
   [49] according to the usual custom for the bishops to visit the
   churches in the diocese, the clerics had prepared an abode for him in
   the private [50] part of the church, and had kindled a large fire
   beneath the floor which was decayed and very thin. [51] They also
   erected for him a couch consisting of a large amount of straw. Then,
   when Martin betook himself to rest, he was annoyed with the softness of
   the too luxurious bed, inasmuch as he had been accustomed to lie on the
   bare ground with only a piece of sackcloth stretched over him.
   Accordingly, influenced by the injury which had, as it were, been done
   him, he threw aside the whole of the straw. Now, it so happened that
   part of the straw which he had thus removed fell upon the stove. He
   himself, in the meantime, rested, as was his wont, upon the bare
   ground, tired out by his long journey. About midnight, the fire
   bursting up through the stove which, as I have said, was far from
   sound, laid hold of the dry straw. Martin, being wakened out of sleep
   by this unexpected occurrence, and being prevented by the pressing
   danger, but chiefly, as he afterwards related, by the snares and
   urgency of the devil, was longer than he ought to have been in having
   recourse to the aid of prayer. For, desiring to get outside, he
   struggled long and laboriously with the bolt by which he had secured
   the door. Ere long he perceived that he was surrounded by a fearful
   conflagration; and the fire had even laid hold of the garment with
   which he was clothed. At length recovering his habitual conviction that
   his safety lay not in flight, but in the Lord, and seizing the shield
   of faith and prayer, committing himself entirely to the Lord, he lay
   down in the midst of the flames. Then truly, the fire having been
   removed by divine interposition, he continued to pray amid a circle of
   flames that did him no harm. But the monks, who were before the door,
   hearing the sound of the crackling and struggling fire, broke open the
   barred door; and, the fire being extinguished, they brought forth
   Martin from the midst of the flames, all the time supposing that he
   must ere then have been burnt to ashes by a fire of so long
   continuance. Now, as the Lord is my witness, he himself related to me,
   and not without groans, confessed that he was in this matter beguiled
   by the arts of the devil; in that, when roused from sleep, he did not
   take the wise course of repelling the danger by means of faith and
   prayer. He also added that the flames raged around him all the time
   that, with a distempered mind, he strove to throw open the door. But he
   declared that as soon as he again sought assistance from the cross, and
   tried the weapons of prayer, the central flames gave way, and that he
   then felt them shedding a dewy refreshment over him, after having just
   experienced how cruelly they burned him. Considering all which, let
   every one who reads this letter understand that Martin was indeed tried
   by that danger, but passed through it with true acceptance. [52]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [44] St. Matt. xxvii. 42.

   [45] Acts xxviii. 4.

   [46] "magis insignes periculorum suorum": such is the construction of
   insignis with later writers.

   [47] This refers to St. Paul, being an echo of the Apostle's own words
   in Rom. xi. 13--ego ethnon apostolos.

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

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

   [50] "in secretario ecclesiae": it is very difficult to say what is
   here meant by "secretarium." It appears from Dial. II. 1, that there
   might be two or more secretaria in one church.

   [51] "pavimento": this word usually means "a floor," or "pavement," but
   some take it here to be the same as fornax. This, however, can hardly
   be the case; and the meaning probably is that the church was heated, as
   the baths were, by means of a hypocaustum, or flue running below the
   pavement.

   [52] Halm here inserts "vere."
     __________________________________________________________________

  Letter II. To the Deacon Aurelius.

   Sulpitius has a Vision of St. Martin.

   Sulpitius Severus to Aurelius the Deacon sendeth greeting,-- [53]

   After you had departed from me in the morning, I was sitting alone in
   my cell; and there occurred to me, as often happens, that hope of the
   future which I cherish, along with a weariness of the present world, a
   terror of judgment, a fear of punishment, and, as a consequence, indeed
   as the source from which the whole train of thought had flowed, a
   remembrance of my sins, which had rendered me worn and miserable. Then,
   after I had placed on my couch my limbs fatigued with the anguish of my
   mind, sleep crept upon me, as frequently happens from melancholy; and
   such sleep, as it is always somewhat light and uncertain in the morning
   hours, so it pervaded my members only in a hovering and doubtful
   manner. Thus it happens, what does not occur in a different kind of
   slumber, that one can feel he is dreaming while almost awake. In these
   circumstances, I seemed suddenly to see St. Martin appear to me in the
   character of a bishop, clothed in a white robe, with a countenance as
   of fire, with eyes like stars, and with purple hair. [54] He thus
   appeared to me with that aspect and form of body which I had known, so
   that I find it almost difficult to say what I mean--he could not be
   steadfastly beheld, though he could be clearly recognized. Well,
   directing a gentle smile towards me, he held out in his right hand the
   small treatise which I had written concerning his life. I, for my part,
   embraced his sacred knees, and begged for his blessing according to
   custom. Upon this, I felt his hand placed on my head with the sweetest
   touch, while, amid the solemn words of benediction, he repeated again
   and again the name of the cross so familiar to his lips. Ere long,
   while my eyes were earnestly fixed upon him, and when I could not
   satisfy myself with gazing upon his countenance, he was suddenly taken
   away from me and raised on high. At last, having passed through the
   vast expanse of the air, while my straining eyes followed him ascending
   in a rapidly moving cloud, he could no longer be seen by me gazing
   after him. And not long after, I saw the holy presbyter Clarus, a
   disciple of Martin's who had lately died, ascend in the same way as I
   had seen his master. I, impudently desiring to follow, while I aim at
   and strive after such lofty steps, suddenly wake up; and, being roused
   from sleep, I had begun to rejoice over the vision, when a boy, a
   servant in the family, enters to me with a countenance sadder than is
   usual with one who gives utterance to his grief in words. "What," I
   enquire of him, "do you wish to tell me with so melancholy an aspect?"
   "Two monks," he replied, "have just been here from Tours, and they have
   brought word that Martin is dead." I confess that I was cut to the
   heart; and bursting into tears, I wept most abundantly. Nay, even now,
   as I write these things to you, brother, my tears are flowing, and I
   find no consolation for my all but unbearable sorrow. And I should wish
   you, when this news reaches you, to be a partaker in my grief, as you
   were a sharer with me in his love. Come then, I beg of you, to me
   without delay, that we may mourn in common him whom in common we love.
   And yet I am well aware that such a man ought not to be mourned over,
   to whom, after his victory and triumph over the world, there has now at
   last been given the crown of righteousness. Nevertheless, I cannot so
   command myself as to keep from grieving. I have, no doubt, sent on
   before me one who will plead my cause in heaven, but I have, at the
   same time, lost my great source of consolation in this present life;
   yet if grief would yield to the influence of reason, I certainly ought
   to rejoice. For he is now mingling among the Apostles and Prophets, and
   (with all respect for the saints on high be it said) he is second to no
   one in that assembly of the righteous as I firmly hope, believe, and
   trust, being joined especially to those who washed their robes in the
   blood of the [55] Lamb. He now follows the Lamb as his guide, free from
   all spot of defilement. For although the character [56] of our times
   could not ensure him the honor of martyrdom, yet he will not remain
   destitute of the glory of a martyr, because both by vow and virtues he
   was alike able and willing to be a martyr. But if he had been
   permitted, in the times of Nero and of Decius, [57] to take part in the
   struggle which then went on, I take to witness the God of heaven and
   earth that he would freely have submitted [58] to the rack of torture,
   and readily surrendered himself to the flames: yea, worthy of being
   compared to the illustrious Hebrew youths, amid the circling flames,
   and though in the very midst of the furnace, he would have sung a hymn
   of the Lord. But if perchance it had pleased the persecutor to inflict
   upon him the punishment which Isaiah endured, he would never have shown
   himself inferior to the prophet, nor would have shrunk from having his
   members torn in pieces by saws and swords. And if impious fury had
   preferred to drive the blessed man over precipitous rocks or steep
   mountains, I maintain that, clinging [59] to the testimony of truth he
   would willingly have fallen. But if, after the example of the teacher
   of the Gentiles, [60] as indeed often happened, he had been included
   among other victims who were condemned [61] to die by the sword, he
   would have been foremost to urge on the executioner to his work that he
   might obtain the crown [62] of blood. And, in truth, far from shrinking
   from a confession of the Lord, in the face of all those penalties and
   punishments, which frequently prove too much for human infirmity, he
   would have stood so immovable as to have smiled with joy and gladness
   over the sufferings and torments he endured, whatever might have been
   the tortures inflicted upon him. But although he did in fact suffer
   none of these things, yet he fully attained to the honor of martyrdom
   without shedding his blood. For what agonies of human sufferings did he
   not endure in behalf of the hope of eternal life, in hunger, in
   watchings, in nakedness, in fastings, in reproachings of the malignant,
   in persecutions of the wicked, in care for the weak, in anxiety for
   those in danger? For who ever suffered but Martin suffered along with
   him? Who was made to stumble and he burnt not? Who perished, and he did
   not mourn deeply? Besides those daily struggles which he carried on
   against the various conflicts with human and spiritual wickedness,
   while invariably, as he was assailed with divers temptations, there
   prevailed in his case fortitude in conquering, patience in waiting, and
   placidity in enduring. O man, truly indescribable in piety, mercy,
   love, which daily grows cold even in holy men through the coldness of
   the world, but which in his case increased onwards to the end, and
   endured from day to day! I, for my part, had the happiness of enjoying
   this grace in him even in an eminent degree, for he loved me in a
   special manner, though I was far from meriting such affection. And, on
   the remembrance, yet again my tears burst forth, while groans issue
   from the bottom of my heart. In what man shall I for the future find
   such repose for my spirit as I did in him? and in whose love shall I
   enjoy like consolation? Wretched being that I am, sunk in affliction,
   can I ever, if life be spared me, cease to lament that I have survived
   Martin? Shall there in future be to me any pleasure in life, or any day
   or hour free from tears; or can I ever, my dearest brother, make
   mention of him to you without lamentation? And yet, in conversing with
   you, can I ever talk of any other subject than him? But why do I stir
   you up to tears and lamentations? So I now desire you to be comforted,
   although I am unable to console myself. He will not be absent from us;
   believe me, he will never, never forsake us, but will be present with
   us as we discourse regarding him, and will be near to us as we pray;
   and the happiness which he has even to-day deigned to bestow, even that
   of seeing him in his glory, he will frequently in future afford; and he
   will protect us, as he did but a little while ago, with his unceasing
   benediction. Then again, according to the arrangement of the vision, he
   showed that heaven was open to those following him, and taught us to
   what we ought to follow him; he instructed us to what objects our hope
   should be directed, and to what attainment our mind should be turned.
   Yet, my brother, what is to be done? For, as I am myself well aware, I
   shall never be able to climb that difficult ascent, and penetrate into
   those blessed regions. To such a degree does a miserable burden press
   me down; and while I cannot, through the load of sin which overwhelms
   me, secure an ascent to heaven, the cruel pressure rather sinks me in
   my misery to the place of despair. [63] Nevertheless, hope remains, one
   last and solitary hope, that, what I cannot obtain of myself, I may, at
   any rate, be thought worthy of, through the prayers of Martin in my
   behalf. But why, brother, should I longer occupy your time with a
   letter which has turned out so garrulous, and thus delay you from
   coming to me? At the same time, my page being now filled, can admit no
   more. This, however, was my object in prolonging my discourse to a
   somewhat undue extent, that, since this letter conveys to you a message
   of sorrow, it might also furnish you with consolation, through my sort
   of friendly conversation with you.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [53] This salutation is omitted by Halm.

   [54] "crine purpureo": it is impossible to tell the exact color which
   is intended.

   [55] Compare Rev. vii. 14.

   [56] As being peaceful, the imperial power having now passed into the
   hands of Christians.

   [57] Roman emperor, a.d. 249-251; his full name was C. Messius Quintus
   Trajanus Decius.

   [58] "equileum ascendisset": lit. "would have mounted the wooden
   horse," an instrument of torture.

   [59] Some read "perhibeo confisus testimonium veritati," and others
   "veritatis"; in either case, the construction is confused and
   irregular.

   [60] St. Paul is referred to: tradition bears that he was beheaded.

   [61] A late use of the verb deputare.

   [62] i.e. martyrdom, "palmam sanguinis."

   [63] "in tartara."
     __________________________________________________________________

  Letter III. To Bassula, His Mother-In-Law.

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

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

   If it were lawful that parents should be summoned to court by their
   children, clearly I might drag you with a righteous thong [64] before
   the tribunal of the praetor, on a charge of robbery and plunder. For
   why should I not complain of the injury which I have suffered at your
   hands? You have left me no little bit of writing at home, no book, not
   even a letter--to such a degree do you play the thief with all such
   things and publish them to the world. If I write anything in familiar
   style to a friend; if, as I amuse myself I dictate anything with the
   wish at the same time that it should be kept private, all such things
   seem to reach you almost before they have been written or spoken.
   Surely you have my secretaries [65] in your [66] debt, since through
   them any trifles I compose are made known to you. And yet I cannot be
   moved with anger against them if they really obey you, and have invaded
   my rights under the special influence of your generosity to them, and
   ever bear in mind that they belong to you rather than to me. Yes, thou
   alone art the culprit--thou alone art to blame--inasmuch as you both
   lay your snares for me, and cajole them with your trickery, so that
   without making any [67] selection, pieces written familiarly, or let
   out of hand without care, are sent to thee quite unelaborated and
   unpolished. For, to say nothing about other writings, I beg to ask how
   that letter could reach you so speedily, which I recently wrote to
   Aurelius the Deacon. For, as I was situated at Toulouse, [68] while you
   were dwelling at Treves, and were so far distant from your native land,
   owing to the anxiety felt on account of your son, what opportunity, I
   should like to know, did you avail yourself of, to get hold of that
   familiar [69] epistle? For I have received your letter in which you
   write that I ought in the same epistle in which I made mention of the
   death of our master, Martin, to have described the manner in which that
   saintly man left this world. As if, indeed, I had either given forth
   that epistle with the view of its being read by any other except him to
   whom it purported to be sent; or as if I were fated to undertake so
   great a work as that all things which should be known respecting Martin
   are to be made public through me particularly as the writer. Therefore,
   if you desire to learn anything concerning the end of the saintly
   bishop, you should direct your enquiries rather to those who were
   present when his death occurred. I for my part have resolved to write
   nothing to you lest you publish me [70] everywhere. Nevertheless if you
   pledge your word that you will read to no one what I send you, I shall
   satisfy your desire in a few words. Accordingly I shall communicate
   [71] to you the following particulars which are comprised within my own
   knowledge.

   I have to state, then, that Martin was aware of the period of his own
   death long before it occurred, and told the brethren that his departure
   from the body was at hand. In the meantime, a reason sprang up which
   led him to visit the church at Condate. [72] For, as the clerics of
   that church were at variance among themselves, Martin, wishing to
   restore peace, although he well knew that the end of his own days was
   at hand, yet he did not shrink from undertaking the journey, with such
   an object in view. He did, in fact, think that this would be an
   excellent crown to set upon his virtues, if he should leave behind him
   peace restored to a church. Thus, then, having set out with that very
   numerous and holy crowd of disciples who usually accompanied him, he
   perceives in a river a number of water-fowl busy in capturing fishes,
   and notices that a voracious appetite was urging them on to frequent
   seizures of their prey. "This," exclaimed he, "is a picture of how the
   demons act: they lie in wait for the unwary and capture them before
   they know it: they devour their victims when taken, and they can never
   be satisfied with what they have devoured." Then Martin, with a
   miraculous [73] power in his words, commands the birds to leave the
   pool in which they were swimming, and to betake themselves to dry and
   desert regions; using with respect to those birds that very same
   authority with which he had been accustomed to put demons to flight.
   Accordingly, gathering themselves together, all those birds formed a
   single body, and leaving the river, they made for the mountains and
   woods, to no small wonder of many who perceived such power in Martin
   that he could even rule the birds. Having then delayed some time in
   that village or church to which he had gone, and peace having been
   restored among the clerics, when he was now meditating a return to his
   monastery, he began suddenly to fail in bodily strength, and,
   assembling the brethren, he told them that he was on the point of
   dissolution. Then indeed, sorrow and grief took possession of all, and
   there was but one voice of them lamenting, and saying: "Why, dear
   father, will you leave us? Or to whom can you commit us in our
   desolation? Fierce wolves will speedily attack thy flock, and who, when
   the shepherd has been smitten, will save us [74] from their bites? We
   know, indeed, that you desire to be with Christ; but thy reward above
   is safe, and will not be diminished by being delayed; rather have pity
   upon us, whom you are leaving desolate." Then Martin, affected by these
   lamentations, as he was always, in truth, full [75] of compassion, is
   said to have burst into tears; and, turning to the Lord, he replied to
   those weeping round him only in the following words, "O Lord, if I am
   still necessary to thy people, I do not shrink from toil: thy will be
   done." Thus hovering as he did between [76] desire and love, he almost
   doubted which he preferred; for he neither wished to leave us, nor to
   be longer separated from Christ. However, he placed no weight upon his
   own wishes, nor reserved anything to his own will, but committed
   himself wholly to the will and power of the Lord. Do you not think you
   hear him speaking in the following few words which I repeat? "Terrible,
   indeed, Lord, is the struggle of bodily warfare, and surely it is now
   enough that I have continued the fight till now; but, if thou dost
   command me still to persevere in the same toil for the defense [77] of
   thy flock, I do not refuse, nor do I plead against such an appointment
   my declining years. Wholly given to thee, I will fulfill whatever
   duties thou dost assign me, and I will serve under thy standard as long
   as thou shalt prescribe. Yea, although release is sweet to an old man
   after lengthened toil, yet my mind is a conqueror over my years, and I
   have no desire [78] to yield to old age. But if now thou art merciful
   to my many years, good, O Lord, is thy will to me; and thou thyself
   wilt guard over those for whose safety I fear." O man, whom no language
   can describe, unconquered by toil, and unconquerable even by death, who
   didst show no personal preference for either alternative, and who didst
   neither fear to die nor refuse to live! Accordingly, though he was for
   some days under the influence of a strong fever, he nevertheless did
   not abandon the work of God. Continuing in supplications and watchings
   through whole nights, he compelled his worn-out limbs to do service to
   his spirit as he lay on his glorious [79] couch upon sackcloth and
   ashes. And when his disciples begged of him that at least he should
   allow some common straw to be placed beneath him, he replied: "It is
   not fitting that a Christian should die except among ashes; and I have
   sinned if I leave you a different example." However, with his hands and
   eyes steadfastly directed towards heaven, he never released his
   unconquerable spirit from prayer. And on being asked by the presbyters
   who had then gathered round him, to relieve his body a little by a
   change of side, he exclaimed: "Allow me, dear brother, to fix my looks
   rather on heaven than on earth, so that my spirit which is just about
   to depart on its own journey may be directed towards the Lord." Having
   spoken these words, he saw the devil standing close at hand, and
   exclaimed: "Why do you stand here, thou bloody monster? Thou shalt find
   nothing in me, thou deadly one: Abraham's bosom is about to receive
   me."

   As he uttered these words, his spirit fled; and those who were there
   present have testified to us that they saw his face as if it had been
   the face [80] of an angel. His limbs too appeared white as snow, so
   that people exclaimed, "Who would ever believe that man to be clothed
   in sackcloth, or who would imagine that he was enveloped with ashes?"
   For even then he presented such an appearance, as if he had been
   manifested in the glory of the future resurrection, and with the nature
   of a body which had been changed. But it is hardly credible what a
   multitude of human beings assembled at the performance of his funeral
   rites: the whole city poured forth to meet his body; all the
   inhabitants of the district and villages, along with many also from the
   neighboring cities, attended. O how great was the grief of all! how
   deep the lamentations in particular of the sorrowing monks! They are
   said to have assembled on that day almost to the number of two
   thousand,--a special glory of Martin,--through his example so numerous
   plants had sprung up for the service of the Lord. Undoubtedly the
   shepherd was then driving his own flocks before him--the pale crowds of
   that saintly multitude--bands arrayed in cloaks, either old men whose
   life-labor was finished, or young soldiers who had just taken the oath
   of allegiance to Christ. Then, too, there was the choir of virgins,
   abstaining out of modesty from weeping; and with what holy joy did they
   conceal the fact of their affliction! No doubt faith would prevent the
   shedding of tears, yet affection forced out groans. For there was as
   sacred an exultation over the glory to which he had attained, as there
   was a pious sorrow on account of his death. One would have been
   inclined to pardon those who wept, as well as to congratulate those who
   rejoiced, while each single person preferred that he himself should
   grieve, but that another should rejoice. Thus then this multitude,
   singing hymns of heaven, attended the body of the sainted man onwards
   to the place of sepulture. Let there be compared with this spectacle, I
   will not say the worldly [81] pomp of a funeral, but even of a triumph;
   and what can be reckoned similar to the obsequies of Martin? Let your
   worldly great men lead before their chariots captives with their hands
   bound behind their backs. Those accompanied the body of Martin who,
   under his guidance, had overcome the world. Let madness honor these
   earthly warriors with the united praises of nations. Martin is praised
   with the divine psalms, Martin is honored in heavenly hymns. Those
   worldly men, after their triumphs here are over, shall be thrust into
   cruel Tartarus, while Martin is joyfully received into the bosom of
   Abraham. Martin, poor and insignificant on earth, has a rich entrance
   granted him into heaven. From that blessed region, as I trust, he looks
   upon me, as my guardian, while I am writing these things, and upon you
   while you read them. [82]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [64] Instead of "justo loro," Halm reads, "justo delore," i.e. "with
   just resentment."

   [65] "notarios": shorthand writers, who wrote from dictation.

   [66] Halm here reads "obarratos," with what sense I know not: the
   reading "obaeratos," followed in the text seems to yield a very good
   meaning.

   [67] The reading "sine dilectu ullo," adopted by Halm, seems preferable
   to the old reading, "sine delicto ullo."

   [68] The identity of Tolosa, mentioned in the text with the modern
   Toulouse, is uncertain.

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

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

   [71] "praestabo his participem": the construction is peculiar, but the
   meaning is obvious.

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

   [73] "potenti virtute verborum": Halm reads simply "potenti verbo."

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

   [75] Lit. "as he always flowed with bowels of mercy in the Lord."

   [76] "spes" seems here to mean "longing of heart."

   [77] "pro castris tuorum."

   [78] Or "I am not one to yield," nescius cedere.

   [79] "nobili illo strato suo"; nobilis in one sense, though so humble
   in another.

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

   [81] Or, "the pomp of a worldly funeral."

   [82] Halm inserts this last sentence in brackets.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

Dialogues of Sulpitius Severus.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Dialogue I.

    Concerning the Virtues of the Monks of the East.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

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

   "When I was in the remote parts of Egypt, I felt a desire to go on as
   far as the sea. I there met with a merchant vessel, which was ready to
   set sail with the view of making for Narbonne. [83] The same night you
   seemed in a dream to stand beside me, and laying hold of me with your
   hand, to lead me away that I should go on board that ship. Ere long,
   when the dawn dispersed the darkness, and when I rose up in the place
   in which I had been resting, as I revolved my dream in my mind, I was
   suddenly seized with such a longing after you, that without delay I
   went on board the ship. Landing on the thirtieth day at Marseilles, I
   came on from that and arrived here on the tenth day--so prosperous a
   voyage was granted to my dutiful desire of seeing you. Do thou only,
   for whose sake I have sailed over so many seas, and have traversed such
   an extent of land, yield yourself over to me to be embraced and enjoyed
   apart from all others."

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

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

   [83] Narbona, more commonly called Narbo Martius; the modern Narbonne.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   "Truly" said I, "you have clearly proved how much a sincere love can
   accomplish, inasmuch as, for my sake, you have traveled over so many
   seas, and such an extent of land, journeying, so to speak, from the
   rising of the sun in the East to where he sets in the West. Come, then,
   because we are here in a retired spot by ourselves, and not being
   otherwise occupied, feel it our duty to attend to your discourse, come,
   I pray thee, relate to us the whole history of your wanderings. Tell
   us, if you please, how the faith of Christ is flourishing in the East;
   what peace the saints enjoy; what are the customs of the monks; and
   with what signs and miracles Christ is working in his servants. For
   assuredly, because in this region of ours and amid the circumstances in
   which we are placed, life itself has become a weariness to us, we shall
   gladly hear from you, if life is permitted to Christians even in the
   desert."

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

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

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

    Chapter III.

   "Three years ago, Sulpitius, at which time, leaving this neighborhood,
   I bade thee farewell, after setting sail from Narbonne, on the fifth
   day we entered a port of Africa: so prosperous, by the will of God, had
   been the voyage. I had in my mind a great desire to go to Carthage, to
   visit those localities connected with the saints, and, above all, to
   worship at the tomb [84] of the martyr Cyprian. On the fifth day we
   returned to the harbor, and launched forth into the deep. Our
   destination was Alexandria; but as the south wind was against us, we
   were almost driven upon the Syrtis; [85] the cautious sailors, however,
   guarding against this, stopped the ship by casting anchor. The
   continent of Africa then lay before our eyes; and, landing on it in
   boats, when we perceived that the whole country round was destitute of
   human cultivation, I penetrated farther inland, for the purpose of more
   carefully exploring the locality. About three miles from the sea-coast,
   I beheld a small hut in the midst of the sand, the roof of which, to
   use the expression [86] of Sallust, was like the keel of a ship. It was
   close to [87] the earth, and was floored with good strong boards, not
   because any very heavy rains are there feared (for, in fact, such a
   thing as rain has there never even been heard of), but because, such is
   the strength of the winds in that district, that, if at any time only a
   little breath of air begins there to be felt, even when the weather is
   pretty mild, a greater wreckage takes place in those lands than on any
   sea. No plants are there, and no seeds ever spring up, since, in such
   shifting soil, the dry sand is swept along with every motion of the
   winds. But where some promontories, back from the sea, act as a check
   to the winds, the soil, being somewhat more firm, produces here and
   there some prickly grass, and that furnishes fair pasturage for sheep.
   The inhabitants live on milk, while those of them that are more
   skillful, or, so to speak, more wealthy, make use of barley bread. That
   is the only kind of grain which flourishes there, for barley, by the
   quickness of its growth in that sort of soil, generally escapes the
   destruction caused by the fierce winds. So rapid is its growth that we
   are told it is ripe on the thirtieth day after the sowing of the seed.
   But there is no reason why men should settle there, except that all are
   free from the payment of taxes. The sea-coast of the Cyrenians is
   indeed the most remote, bordering upon that desert which lies between
   Egypt and Africa, [88] and through which Cato formerly, when fleeing
   from Caesar, led an army. [89]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [84] "Ad sepulchrum Cypriani martyris adorare."

   [85] This was probably the Syrtis Minor, a dangerous sandbank in the
   sea on the northern coast of Africa; it is now known as the Gulf of
   Cabes. The Syrtis Major lay farther to the east, and now bears the name
   of the Gulf of Sidra.

   [86] "AEdificia Numidarum agrestium, quae mapalia illi vocant, oblonga,
   incurvis lateribus tecta, quasi navium carinae sunt."--Sall. Jug.
   XVIII. 8.

   [87] The hut was perhaps built on piles rising slightly above the
   ground.

   [88] The term Africa here used in its more restricted sense to denote
   the territory of Carthage.

   [89] This took place in the spring of the year b.c. 47.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   I therefore bent my steps toward the hut which I had beheld from a
   distance. There I find an old man, in a garment made of skins, turning
   a mill with his hand. He saluted and received us kindly. We explain to
   him that we had been forced to land on that coast, and were prevented
   by the continued raging of the sea [90] from being able at once to
   pursue our voyage; that, having made our way on shore, we had desired,
   as is in keeping with ordinary human nature, to become acquainted with
   the character of the locality, and the manners of the inhabitants. We
   added that we were Christians, and that the principal object of our
   enquiry was whether there were any Christians amid these solitudes.
   Then, indeed, he, weeping for joy, throws himself at our feet; and,
   kissing us over and over again, invites us to prayer, while, spreading
   on the ground the skins of sheep, he makes us sit down upon them. He
   then serves up a breakfast truly luxurious, [91] consisting of the half
   of a barley cake. Now, we were four, while he himself constituted the
   fifth. He also brought in a bundle of herbs, of which I forget the
   name, but they were like mint, were rich in leaves, and yielded a taste
   like honey. We were delighted with the exceedingly sweet taste of this
   plant, and our hunger was fully satisfied."

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

   Then he, being an exceedingly modest person, and blushing somewhat,
   while he takes my [92] joke in good part, says, "You act, Sulpitius, in
   a way like yourself, for you never miss any opportunity which is
   offered you of joking us on the subject of our fondness for eating. But
   it is unkind of you to try to force us Gauls to live after the fashion
   of angels; and yet, through my own liking for eating, I could believe
   that even the angels are in the habit of eating; for such is my
   appetite that I would be afraid even singly to attack that half barley
   cake. However, let that man of Cyrene be satisfied with it, to whom it
   is either a matter of necessity or nature always to feel hungry; or,
   again, let those be content with it from whom, I suppose, their tossing
   at sea had taken away all desire for food. We, on the other hand, are
   at a distance from the sea; and, as I have often testified to you, we
   are, in one word, Gauls. But instead of wasting time over such matters,
   let our friend here rather go on to complete his account of the
   Cyrenian."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [90] "maris mollitie."

   [91] "Prandium sane locupletissimum": of course there is a friendly
   irony in the words.

   [92] "fatigationem," a late sense of the word.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   "Assuredly," continues Postumianus, "I shall take care in future not to
   mention the abstinence of any one, in case the difficult example should
   quite offend our friends the Gauls. I had intended, however, to give an
   account also of the dinner of that man of Cyrene--for we were seven
   days with him--or some of the subsequent feasts; but these things had
   better be passed over, lest the Gaul should think that he was jeered
   at. However, on the following day, when some of the natives had come
   together to visit us, we discovered that that host of ours was a
   Presbyter--a fact which he had concealed from us with the greatest
   care. We then went with him to the church, which was about two miles
   distant, and was concealed from our view by an intervening mountain. We
   found that it was constructed of common and worthless trees, and was
   not much more imposing than the hut of our host, in which one could not
   stand without stooping. On enquiring into the customs of the men of the
   district, we found that they were not in the habit of either buying or
   selling anything. They knew not the meaning of either fraud or theft.
   As to gold and silver, which mankind generally deem the most desirable
   of all things, they neither possess them, nor do they desire to possess
   them. For when I offered that Presbyter ten gold coins, he refused
   them, declaring, with profound wisdom, that the church was not
   benefited but rather [93] injured by gold. We presented him, however,
   with some pieces of clothing.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [93] "non instrui, sed potius destrui."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   "After he had kindly accepted our gifts, on the sailors calling us back
   to the sea, we departed; and after a favorable passage, we arrived at
   Alexandria on the seventh day. There we found a disgraceful strife
   raging between the bishops and monks, the cause or occasion of which
   was that the priests were known when assembled together often to have
   passed decrees in crowded synods to the effect that no one should read
   or possess the books of Origen. He was, no doubt, regarded as a most
   able disputant on the sacred Scriptures. But the bishops maintained
   that there were certain things in his books of an unsound character;
   and his supporters, not being bold enough to defend these, rather took
   the line of declaring that they had been inserted by the heretics. They
   affirmed, therefore, that the other portions of his writings were not
   to be condemned on account of those things which justly fell under
   censure, since the faith of readers could easily make a distinction, so
   that they should not follow what had been forged, and yet should keep
   hold of those points which were handled in accordance with the Catholic
   faith. They remarked that there was nothing wonderful if, in modern and
   recent writings, heretical guile had been at work; since it had not
   feared in certain places to attack even Gospel truth. The bishops,
   struggling against these positions to the utmost extent of their power,
   insisted that what was quite correct in the writings of Origen should,
   along with the author himself, and even his whole works, be condemned,
   because those books were more than sufficient which the church had
   received. They also said that the reading was to be avoided of such
   works as would do more harm to the unwise than they would benefit the
   wise. For my part, on being led by curiosity to investigate some
   portions of these writings, I found very many things which pleased me,
   but some that were to be blamed. I think it is clear that the author
   himself really entertained these impious opinions, though his defenders
   maintain that the passages have been forged. I truly wonder that one
   and the same man could have been so different from himself as that, in
   the portion which is approved, he has no equal since the times of the
   Apostles, while in that which is justly condemned, no one can be shown
   to have erred more egregiously.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   For while many things in his books which were extracted from them by
   the bishops were read to show that they were written in opposition to
   the Catholic faith, that passage especially excited bad feeling against
   him, in which we read in his published works that the Lord Jesus, as he
   had come in the flesh for the redemption of mankind, and suffering upon
   the cross for the salvation of man, had tasted death to procure eternal
   life for the human race, so he was, by the same course of suffering,
   even to render the devil a partaker of redemption. He maintained this
   on the ground that such a thing would be in harmony with his goodness
   and beneficence, inasmuch as he who had restored fallen and ruined man,
   would thus also set free an angel who had previously fallen. When these
   and other things of a like nature were brought forward by the bishops,
   a tumult arose owing to the zeal of the different parties; and when
   this could not be quelled by the authority of the priests, the governor
   of the city was called upon to regulate the discipline of the church by
   a perverse precedent; and through the terror which he inspired, the
   brethren were dispersed, while the monks took to flight in different
   directions; so that, on the decrees being published, they were not
   permitted to find lasting acceptance [94] in any place. This fact
   influenced me greatly, that Hieronymus, a man truly Catholic and most
   skillful in the holy law, was thought at first to have been a follower
   of Origen, yet now, above most others, went the length of condemning
   the whole of his writings. Assuredly, I am not inclined to judge rashly
   in regard to any one; but even the most learned men were said to hold
   different opinions in this controversy. However, whether that opinion
   of Origen was simply an error, as I think, or whether it was a heresy,
   as is generally supposed, it not only could not be suppressed by
   multitudes of censures on the part of the priests, but it never could
   have spread itself so far and wide, had it not gathered strength from
   their contentions. Accordingly, when I came to Alexandria, I found that
   city in a ferment from disturbances connected with the matter in
   question. The Bishop, indeed, of that place received me very kindly,
   and in a better spirit than I expected, and even endeavored to retain
   me with him. But I was not at all inclined to settle there, where a
   recent outbreak of ill-will had resulted in a destruction of the
   brethren. For, although perhaps it may seem that they ought to have
   obeyed the bishops, yet such a multitude of persons, all living in an
   open confession of Christ, ought not for that reason to have been
   persecuted, especially by bishops.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [94] "in nulla consistere sede sinerentur."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Accordingly, setting out from that place, I made for the town of
   Bethlehem, which is six miles distant from Jerusalem, but requires
   sixteen stoppages [95] on the part of one journeying from Alexandria.
   The presbyter Jerome [96] rules the church of this place; for it is a
   parish of the bishop who has possession of Jerusalem. Having already in
   my former journey become acquainted with Hieronymus, he had easily
   brought it about that I with good reason deemed no one more worthy of
   my regard and love. For, besides the merit due to him on account of his
   Faith, and the possession of many virtues, he is a man learned not only
   in Latin and Greek, but also Hebrew, to such a degree that no one dare
   venture to compare himself with him in all knowledge. I shall indeed be
   surprised if he is not well known to you also through means of the
   works which he has written, since he is, in fact, read the whole world
   over."

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

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

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

   [95] "mansionibus."

   [96] Otherwise, "Hieronymus."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

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

   Upon this I exclaim, "You are going too far, my Gallic friend: take
   heed lest some one who perhaps owns to these things, hear what you are
   saying, and begin to hold you, along with Hieronymus, in no great
   affection. For, since you are a learned [97] man, not unreasonably will
   I admonish you in the verse of that comic poet who says,--Submission
   procures friends, while truth gives rise to hatred.' Let rather,
   Postumianus, your discourse to us about the East, so well begun, now be
   resumed."

   "Well," says he, "as I had commenced to relate, I stayed with
   Hieronymus six months, who carried on an unceasing warfare against the
   wicked, and a perpetual struggle in opposition to the deadly hatred of
   ungodly men. The heretics hate him, because he never desists from
   attacking them; the clerics hate him, because he assails their life and
   crimes. But beyond doubt, all the good admire and love him; for those
   people are out of their senses, who suppose that he is a heretic. Let
   me tell the truth on this point, which is that the knowledge of the man
   is Catholic, and that his doctrine is sound. He is always occupied in
   reading, always at his books with his whole heart: he takes no rest day
   or night; he is perpetually either reading or writing something. In
   fact, had I not been resolved in mind, and had promised to God first to
   visit [98] the desert previously referred to, I should have grudged to
   depart even for the shortest time from so great a man. Handing over,
   then, and entrusting to him all my possessions and my whole family,
   which having followed me against my own inclination, kept me in a state
   of embarrassment, and thus being in a sort of way delivered from a
   heavy burden, and restored to freedom of action, I returned to
   Alexandria, and having visited the brethren there I set out from the
   place for upper Thebais, that is for the farthest off confines of
   Egypt. For a great multitude of monks were said to inhabit the widely
   extending solitudes of that wilderness. But here it would be tedious,
   were I to seek to narrate all the things which I witnessed: I shall
   only touch lightly on a few points.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [97] "scholasticus."

   [98] "propositam eremum."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   "Not far from the desert, and close to the Nile, there are numerous
   monasteries. For the most part, the monks there dwell together in
   companies of a hundred; and their highest rule is to live under the
   orders of their Abbot, to do nothing by their own inclination, but to
   depend in all things on his will and authority. If it so happens that
   any of them form in their minds a lofty ideal of virtue, so as to wish
   to betake themselves to the desert to live a solitary life, they do not
   venture to act on this desire except with the permission of the Abbot.
   In fact, this is the first of virtues in their estimation,--to live in
   obedience to the will of another. To those who betake themselves to the
   desert, bread or some other kind of food is furnished by the command of
   that Abbot. Now, it so happened that, in those days during which I had
   come thither, the Abbot had sent bread to a certain person who had
   withdrawn to the desert, and had erected a tent for himself not more
   than six miles from the monastery. This bread was sent by the hands of
   two boys, the elder of whom was fifteen, and the younger twelve years
   of age. As these boys were returning home, an asp of remarkable size
   encountered them, but they were not the least afraid on meeting it; and
   moving up to their very feet, as if charmed by some melody, it laid
   down its dark-green neck before them. The younger of the boys laid hold
   of it with his hand, and, wrapping it in his dress, went on his way
   with it. Then, entering the monastery with the air of a conqueror, and
   meeting with the brethren, while all looked on, he opened out his
   dress, and set down the imprisoned beast, not without some appearance
   of boastfulness. But while the rest of the spectators extolled the
   faith and virtue of the children, the Abbot, with deeper insight, and
   to prevent them at such a tender age from being puffed up with pride,
   subjected both to punishment. This he did after blaming them much for
   having publicly revealed what the Lord had wrought through their
   instrumentality. He declared that that was not to be attributed to
   their faith, but to the Divine power; and added that they should rather
   learn to serve God in humility, and not to glory in signs and wonders;
   for that a sense of their own weakness was better than any vainglorious
   exhibition of power.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

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

    Chapter XII.

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

   Upon this, the Gaul looking at me exclaims: "Would that a friend of
   yours--I do not wish to mention his name--were now present; I should
   greatly like him to hear of that example, since we have had too much
   experience of his bitter anger in the persons of a great many people.
   Nevertheless, as I hear, he has lately forgiven his enemies; and, in
   these circumstances, were he to hear of the conduct of that man, he
   would be more and more strengthened in his forgiving course by the
   example thus set before him, and would feel that it is an admirable
   virtue not to fall under the influence of anger. I will not indeed deny
   that he had just reasons for his wrath; but where the battle is hard,
   the crown of victory is all the more glorious. For this reason, I
   think, if you will allow me to say so, that a certain man was justly to
   be praised, because when an ungrateful freedman abandoned him he rather
   pitied than inveighed against the fugitive. And, indeed, he was not
   even angry with the man by whom he seems to have been carried off."
   [99]

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

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

   "We indeed," said I, "have nothing by means of which we can return the
   obligation we shall lie under to you even without a larger return.
   [100] However, command us as to anything you have thought about,
   provided you satisfy our desires, as you have already begun to do, for
   your speech conveys to us true delight."

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

   [99] It appears impossible to give a certain rendering of these
   words--"a quo videtur abductus."

   [100] "vel sine faenore."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   "Well then, when I entered upon the nearest parts of the desert, about
   twelve miles from the Nile, having as my guide one of the brethren who
   was well acquainted with the localities, we arrived at the residence of
   a certain old monk who dwelt at the foot of a mountain. In that place
   there was a well, which is a very rare thing in these regions. The monk
   had one ox, the whole labor of which consisted in drawing water by
   moving a machine worked with a wheel. This was the only way of getting
   at the water, for the well was said to be a thousand or more feet deep.
   There was also a garden there full of a variety of vegetables. This,
   too, was contrary to what might have been expected in the desert where,
   all things being dry and burnt up by the fierce rays of the sun produce
   not even the slenderest root of any plant. But the labor which in
   common with his ox, the monk performed, as well as his own special
   industry, produced such a happy state of things to the holy man; for
   the frequent irrigation in which he engaged imparted such a fertility
   to the sand that we saw the vegetables in his garden flourishing and
   coming to maturity in a wonderful manner. On these, then, the ox lived
   as well as its master; and from the abundance thus supplied, the holy
   man provided us also with a dinner. There I saw what ye Gauls,
   perchance, may not believe--a pot boiling without fire [101] with the
   vegetables which were being got ready for our dinner: such is the power
   of the sun in that place that it is sufficient for any cooks, even for
   preparing the dainties of the Gauls. Then after dinner, when the
   evening was coming on, our host invites us to a palm-tree, the fruit of
   which he was accustomed to use, and which was at a distance of about
   two miles. For that is the only kind of tree found in the desert, and
   even these are rare, though they do occur. I am not sure whether this
   is owing to the wise foresight of former ages, or whether the soil
   naturally produces them. It may indeed be that God, knowing beforehand
   that the desert was one day to be inhabited by the saints, prepared
   these things for his servants. For those who settle within these
   solitudes live for the most part on the fruit of such trees, since no
   other kinds of plants thrive in these quarters. Well, when we came up
   to that tree to which the kindness of our host conducted us, we there
   met with a lion; and on seeing it, both my guide and myself began to
   tremble; but the holy man went up to it without delay, while we, though
   in great terror, followed him. As if commanded by God, the beast
   modestly withdrew and stood gazing at us, while our friend, the monk,
   plucked some fruit hanging within easy reach on the lower branches.
   And, on his holding out his hand filled with dates, the monster ran up
   to him and received them as readily as any domestic animal could have
   done; and having eaten them, it departed. We, beholding these things,
   and being still under the influence of fear, could not but perceive how
   great was the power of faith in his case, and how weak it was in
   ourselves.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [101] Hornius strangely remarks on this, "Frequens id in Africa. Quin
   et ferrum nimio solis ardore mollescere scribunt qui interiorem Libyam
   perlustrarunt."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   "We found another equally remarkable man living in a small hut, capable
   only of containing a single person. Concerning him we were told that a
   she-wolf was accustomed to stand near him at dinner; and that the beast
   could by no means be easily deceived so as to fail to be with him at
   the regular hour when he took refreshment. It was also said that the
   wolf waited at the door until he offered her the bread which remained
   over his own humble dinner; that she was accustomed to lick his hand,
   and then, her duty being, as it were, fulfilled, and her respects paid
   to him, she took her departure. But it so happened that that holy man,
   while he escorted a brother who had paid him a visit, on his way home,
   was a pretty long time away, and only returned under night. [102] In
   the meanwhile, the beast made its appearance at the usual dinner time.
   Having entered the vacant cell and perceived that its benefactor was
   absent, it began to search round the hut with some curiosity to
   discover, if possible, the inhabitant. Now it so happened that a basket
   of palm-twigs was hanging close at hand with five loaves of bread in
   it. Taking one of these, the beast devoured it, and then, having
   committed this evil deed, went its way. The recluse on his return found
   the basket in a state of disorder, and the number of loaves less than
   it should have been. He is aware of the loss of his household goods,
   and observes near the threshold some fragments of the loaf which had
   been stolen. Considering all this, he had little doubt as to the author
   of the theft. Accordingly, when on the following days the beast did
   not, in its usual way, make its appearance (undoubtedly hesitating from
   a consciousness of its audacious deed to come to him on whom it had
   inflicted injury), the recluse was deeply grieved at being deprived of
   the happiness he had enjoyed in its society. At last, being brought
   back through his prayers, it appeared to him as usual at dinner time,
   after the lapse of seven days. But to make clear to every one the shame
   it felt, through regret for what had been done, not daring to draw very
   near, and with its eyes, from profound self-abasement, cast upon the
   earth, it seemed, as was plain to the intelligence of every one, to beg
   in a sort of way, for pardon. The recluse, pitying its confusion, bade
   it come close to him, and then, with a kindly hand, stroked its head;
   while, by giving it two loaves instead of the usual one, he restored
   the guilty creature to its former position; and, laying aside its
   misery on thus having obtained forgiveness, it betook itself anew to
   its former habits. Behold, I beg of you, even in this case, the power
   of Christ, to whom all is wise that is irrational, and to whom all is
   mild that is by nature savage. A wolf discharges duty; a wolf
   acknowledges the crime of theft; a wolf is confounded with a sense of
   shame: when called for, it presents itself; it offers its head to be
   stroked; and it has a perception of the pardon granted to it, just as
   if it had a feeling of shame on account of its misconduct,--this is thy
   power, O Christ--these, O Christ, are thy marvelous works. For in
   truth, whatever things thy servants do in thy name are thy doings; and
   in this only we find cause for deepest grief that, while wild beasts
   acknowledge thy majesty, intelligent beings fail to do thee reverence.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [102] "sub nocte": this may be used for the usual classical form "sub
   noctem," towards evening.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   "But lest this should perchance seem incredible to any one, I shall
   mention still greater things. I call Christ [103] to witness that I
   invent nothing, nor will I relate things published by uncertain
   authors, but will set forth facts which have been vouched for to me by
   trustworthy men.

   "Numbers of those persons live in the desert without any roofs over
   their heads, whom people call anchorites. [104] They subsist on the
   roots of plants; they settle nowhere in any fixed place, lest they
   should frequently have men visiting them; wherever night compels them
   they choose their abode. Well, two monks from Nitria directed their
   steps towards a certain man living in this style, and under these
   conditions. They did so, although they were from a very different
   quarter, because they had heard of his virtues, and because he had
   formerly been their dear and intimate friend, while a member of the
   same monastery. They sought after him long and much; and at length, in
   the seventh month, they found him staying in that far-distant
   wilderness which borders upon Memphis. He was said already to have
   dwelt in these solitudes for twelve years; but although he shunned
   intercourse with all men, yet he did not shrink from meeting these
   friends; on the contrary, he yielded himself to their affection for a
   period of three days. On the fourth day, when he had gone some distance
   escorting them in their return journey, they beheld a lioness of
   remarkable size coming towards them. The animal, although meeting with
   three persons, showed no uncertainty as to the one she made for, but
   threw herself down at the feet of the anchorite: and, lying there with
   a kind of weeping and lamentation, she manifested mingled feelings of
   sorrow and supplication. The sight affected all, and especially him who
   perceived that he was sought for: he therefore sets out, and the others
   follow him. For the beast stopping from time to time, and, from time to
   time looking back, clearly wished it to be understood that the
   anchorite should follow wherever she led. What need is there of many
   words? We arrived at the den of the animal, where she, the unfortunate
   mother, was nourishing five whelps already grown up, which, as they had
   come forth with closed eyes from the womb of their dam, so they had
   continued in persistent blindness. Bringing them out, one by one, from
   the hollow of the rock, she laid them down at the feet of the
   anchorite. Then at length the holy man perceived what the creature
   desired; and having called upon the name of God, he touched with his
   hand the closed eyes of the whelps; and immediately their blindness
   ceased, while light, so long denied them, streamed upon the open eyes
   of the animals. Thus, those brethren, having visited the anchorite whom
   they were desirous of seeing, returned with a very precious reward for
   their labor, inasmuch as, having been permitted to be eye-witnesses of
   such power, they had beheld the faith of the saint, and the glory of
   Christ, to which they will in future bear testimony. But I have still
   more marvels to tell: the lioness, after five days, returned to the man
   who had done her so great a kindness, and brought him, as a gift, the
   skin of an uncommon animal. Frequently clad in this, as if it were a
   cloak, that holy man did not disdain to receive that gift through the
   instrumentality of the best; while, all the time, he rather regarded
   Another as being the giver.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [103] "Fides Christi adest": lit. "the faith of Christ is present."

   [104] Also spelt "anchoret": it means "one who has retired from the
   world" (anachoreo).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

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

    Chapter XVII.

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

    Chapter XVIII.

   "I will relate two wonderful examples of almost incredible obedience,
   and two only, although many present themselves to my recollection; but
   if, in any case, a few instances do not suffice to rouse readers to an
   imitation of the like virtues, many would be of no advantage. Well
   then, when a certain man having laid aside all worldly business, and
   having entered a monastery of very [105] strict discipline, begged that
   he might be accepted as a member, the Abbot began to place many
   considerations before him,--that the toils of that order were severe;
   that his own requirements were heavy, and such as no one's endurance
   could easily comply with; that he should rather enquire after another
   monastery where life was carried on under easier conditions; and that
   he should not try to attempt that which he was unable to accomplish.
   But he was in no degree moved by these terrors; on the contrary, he all
   the more promised obedience, saying that if the Abbot should order him
   to walk into the fire, he would not refuse to enter it. The Master
   then, having accepted that profession of his, did not delay putting it
   to the test. It so happened that an iron vessel was close at hand, very
   hot, as it was being got ready by a powerful fire for cooking some
   loaves of bread: the flames were bursting forth from the oven broken
   open, and fire raged without restraint within the hollows of that
   furnace. The Master, at this stage of affairs, ordered the stranger to
   enter it, nor did he hesitate to obey the command. Without a moment's
   delay he entered into the midst of the flames, which, conquered at once
   by so bold a display of faith, subsided at his approach, as happened of
   old to the well-known Hebrew children. Nature was overcome, and the
   fire gave way; so that he, of whom it was thought that he would be
   burned to death, had reason to marvel at himself, besprinkled, as it
   were, with a cooling dew. But what wonder is it, O Christ, that that
   fire did not touch thy youthful soldier? The result was that, neither
   did the Abbot regret having issued such harsh commands, nor did the
   disciple repent having obeyed the orders received. He, indeed, on the
   very day on which he came, being tried in his weakness, was found
   perfect; deservedly happy, deservedly glorious, having been tested in
   obedience, he was glorified through suffering.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [105] "monasterium magnae dispositionis."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   "In the same monastery, the fact which I am about to narrate was said
   to have occurred within recent memory. A certain man had come to the
   same Abbot in like manner with the former, in order to obtain
   admission. When the first law of obedience was placed before him, and
   he promised an unfailing patience for the endurance of all things
   however extreme, it so happened that the Abbot was holding in his hand
   a twig of storax already withered. This the Abbot fixed in the ground,
   and imposed this work upon the visitor, that he should continue to
   water the twig, until (what was against every natural result) that dry
   piece of wood should grow green in the sandy soil. Well, the stranger,
   being placed under the authority of unbending law, conveyed water every
   day on his own shoulders--water which had to be taken from the river
   Nile, at almost two miles' distance. And now, after a year had run its
   course, the labor of that workman had not yet ceased, but there could
   be no hope of the good success of his undertaking. However, the grace
   of obedience continued to be shown in his labor. The following year
   also mocked the vain labor of the (by this time) weakened brother. At
   length, as the third annual circle was gliding by, while the workman
   ceased not, night or day, his labor in watering, the twig began to show
   signs of life. I have myself seen a small tree sprung from that little
   rod, which, standing at the present day with green branches in the
   court of the monastery, as if for a witness of what has been stated,
   shows what a reward obedience received, and what a power faith can
   exert. But the day would fail me before I could fully enumerate the
   many different miracles which have become known to me in connection
   with the virtues of the saints.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

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

   "A certain saint, then, endowed with almost incredible power in casting
   out demons from the bodies of those possessed by them, was, day by day,
   performing unheard-of miracles. For, not only when present, and not
   merely by his word, but while absent also, he, from time to time, cured
   possessed bodies, by some threads taken from his garment, or by letters
   which he sent. He, therefore, was to a wonderful degree visited by
   people who came to him from every part of the world. I say nothing
   about those of humbler rank; but prefects, courtiers, and judges of
   various ranks often lay at his doors. Most holy bishops also, laying
   aside their priestly dignity, and humbly imploring him to touch and
   bless them, believed with good reason that they were sanctified, and
   illumined with a divine gift, as often as they touched his hand and
   garment. He was reported to abstain always and utterly from every kind
   of drink, and for food (I will whisper this, Sulpitius, into your ear
   lest our friend the Gaul hear it), to subsist upon only six dried figs.
   But in the meantime, just as honor accrued to the holy man from his
   excellence, [106] so vanity began to steal upon him from the honor
   which was paid him. When first he perceived that this evil was growing
   upon him, he struggled long and earnestly to shake it off, but it could
   not be thoroughly got rid of by all his efforts, since he still had a
   secret consciousness of being under the influence of vanity. Everywhere
   did the demons acknowledge his name, while he was not able to exclude
   from his presence the number of people who flocked to him. The hidden
   poison was, in the meantime, working in his breast, and he, at whose
   beck demons were expelled from the bodies of others, was quite unable
   to cleanse himself from the hidden thoughts of vanity. Betaking
   himself, therefore, with fervent supplication to God, he is said to
   have prayed that, power being given to the devil over him for five
   months, he might become like to those whom he himself had cured. Why
   should I delay with many words? That most powerful man,--he, renowned
   for his miracles and virtues through all the East, he, to whose
   threshold multitudes had gathered, and at whose door the highest
   dignitaries of that age had prostrated themselves--laid hold of by a
   demon, was kept fast in chains. It was only after having suffered all
   those things which the possessed are wont to endure, that at length in
   the fifth month he was delivered, not only from the demon, but (what
   was to him more useful and desirable) from the vanity which had dwelt
   within him.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [106] "virtute," perhaps power, as in many other places.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   "But to me reflecting on these things, there occurs the thought of our
   own unhappiness and our own infirmity. For who is there of us, whom if
   one despicable creature of a man has humbly saluted, or one woman has
   praised with foolish and flattering words, is not at once elated with
   pride and puffed up with vanity? This will bring it about that even
   though one does not possess a consciousness of sanctity, yet, because
   through the flattery, or, it may be, the mistake of fools, he is said
   to be a holy man, he will, in fact, deem himself most holy! And then,
   if frequent gifts are sent to him, he will maintain that he is so
   honored by the munificence of God, inasmuch as all necessary things are
   bestowed upon him when sleeping and at rest. But further, if some signs
   of any kind of power fall to him even in a low degree, he will think
   himself no less than an angel. And even if he is not marked out from
   others either by acts or excellence, but is simply made a cleric, he
   instantly enlarges the fringes of his dress, delights in salutations,
   is puffed up by people visiting him, and himself gads about everywhere.
   Nay, the man who had been previously accustomed to travel on foot, or
   at most to ride on the back of an ass, must needs now ride proudly on
   frothing steeds; formerly content to dwell in a small and humble cell,
   he now builds a lofty fretted ceiling; he constructs many rooms; he
   cuts and carves doors; he paints wardrobes; he rejects the coarser kind
   of clothing, and demands soft garments; and he gives such orders as the
   following to dear widows and friendly virgins, that the one class weave
   for him an embroidered cloak, and the other a flowing robe. But let us
   leave all these things to be described more pungently by that blessed
   man Hieronymus; and let us return to the object more immediately in
   view."

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

   "I will do so," replied Postumianus, "nor will I any longer keep you in
   a state of expectation.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   "A certain young man from Asia, exceedingly wealthy, of distinguished
   family, and having a wife and little son, happening to have been a
   tribune in Egypt, and in frequent campaigns against the Blembi to have
   touched on some parts of the desert, and having also seen several tents
   of the saints, heard the word of salvation from the blessed John. And
   he did not then delay to show his contempt for an unprofitable military
   life with its vain honor. Bravely entering into the wilderness, he in a
   short time became distinguished as being perfect in every kind of
   virtue. Capable of lengthened fasting, conspicuous for humility, and
   steadfast in faith, he had easily obtained a reputation in the pursuit
   of virtue equal to that of the monks of old. But by and by, the thought
   (proceeding from the devil) entered his mind that it would be more
   proper for him to return to his native land and be the means of saving
   his only son and his family along with his wife; which surely would be
   more acceptable to God than if he, content with only rescuing himself
   from the world, should, not without impiety, neglect the salvation of
   his friends. Overcome by the plausible appearance of that kind of
   spurious righteousness, the recluse, after a period of nearly four
   years, forsook his cell and the end to which he had devoted his life.
   But on arriving at the nearest monastery, which was inhabited by many
   brethren, he made known to them, in reply to their questionings, the
   reason of his departure and the object he had in view. All of them, and
   especially the Abbot of that place, sought to keep him back; but the
   intention he had unfortunately formed could not be rooted out of his
   mind. Accordingly with an unhappy obstinacy he went forth, and, to the
   grief of all, departed from the brethren. But scarcely had he vanished
   from their sight, when he was taken possession of by a demon, and
   vomiting bloody froth from his mouth, he began to lacerate himself with
   his own teeth. Then, having been carried back to the same monastery on
   the shoulders of the brethren, when the unclean spirit could not be
   restrained within its walls, he was, from dire necessity, loaded with
   iron fetters, being bound both in hands and feet--a punishment not
   undeserved by a fugitive, inasmuch as chains now restrained him whom
   faith had not restrained. At length, after two years, having been set
   free from the unclean spirit by the prayers of the saints, he
   immediately returned to the desert from which he had departed. In this
   way he was both himself corrected and was rendered a warning to others,
   that the shadow of a spurious righteousness might neither delude any
   one, nor a shifting fickleness of character induce any one, with
   unprofitable inconstancy, to forsake the course on which he has once
   entered. And now let it suffice for you to learn these things
   respecting the various operations of the Lord which he has carried on
   in the persons of his servants; with the view either of stimulating
   others to a like kind of conduct, or of deterring them from particular
   actions. But since I have by this time fully satisfied your ears--have,
   in fact, been more lengthy than I ought to have been--do you now (upon
   this he addressed himself to me)--pay me the recompense you owe, by
   letting us hear you, after your usual fashion, discoursing about your
   friend Martin, for my longings after this have already for a long time
   been strongly excited."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIII.

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

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

    Chapter XXIV.

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

    Chapter XXV.

   "For, if it is worthy of admiration that the flames did not touch that
   Egyptian of whom you have spoken, Martin also not infrequently proved
   his power over fire. If you remind us that the savagery of wild beasts
   was conquered by, and yielded to, the anchorites, Martin, for his part,
   was accustomed to keep in check both the fury of wild beasts and the
   poison of serpents. But, if you bring forward for comparison him who
   cured those possessed of unclean spirits, by the authority of his word,
   or even through the instrumentality of threads from his dress, there
   are many proofs that Martin was not, even in this respect, inferior.
   Nay, should you have recourse to him, who, covered with his own hair
   instead of a garment, was thought to be visited by angels, with Martin
   angels were wont to hold daily discourse. Moreover, he bore so
   unconquerable a spirit against vanity and boastfulness, that no one
   more determinedly disdained these vices, and that, although he often,
   while absent, cured those who were filled with unclean spirits, and
   issued his commands not only to courtiers or prefects, but also to
   kings themselves. This was indeed a very small thing amid his other
   virtues, but I should wish you to believe that no one ever contended
   more earnestly than he did against not only vanity, but also the causes
   and the occasions of vanity. I shall also mention what is indeed a
   small point, but should not be passed over, because it is to the credit
   of a man who, being possessed of the highest power, manifested such a
   pious desire to show his regard for the blessed Martin. I remember,
   then, that Vincentius the prefect, an illustrious man, and one of the
   most eminent in all Gaul for every kind of virtue, when he had occasion
   to be in the vicinity of Tours, often begged of Martin that he would
   allow him to stay with him in the monastery. In making this request, he
   brought forward the example of Saint Ambrose, the bishop, who was
   generally spoken of at that time as being in the habit of entertaining
   both consuls and prefects. But Martin, with deeper judgment, refused so
   to act, lest by so doing some vanity and inflation of spirit might
   steal upon him. You, therefore, must acknowledge that there existed in
   Martin the virtues of all those men whom you have mentioned, but there
   were not found in all of them the virtues by which Martin was
   distinguished."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVI.

   "Why do you," here exclaimed Postumianus, "speak to me in such a
   manner? As if I did not hold the same opinion as yourself, and had not
   always been of the same mind. I, indeed, as long as I live, and retain
   my senses, will ever celebrate the monks of Egypt: I will praise the
   anchorites; I will admire the eremites; but I will place Martin in a
   position of his own: I do not venture to compare to him any one of the
   monks, far less any of the bishops. Egypt owns this: Syria and
   AEthiopia have discovered this: India has heard this; Parthia and
   Persia have known this; not even Armenia is ignorant of it; the remote
   Bosphorus is aware of it; and in a word, those are acquainted with it
   who visit the Fortunate Islands or the Arctic Ocean. All the more
   wretched on this account is this country of ours, which has not been
   found worthy to be acquainted with so great a man, although he was in
   its immediate vicinity. However, I will not include the people at large
   in this censure: only the clerics, only the priests know nothing of
   him; and not without reason were they, in their ill-will, disinclined
   to know him, inasmuch as, had they become acquainted with his virtues
   they must have recognized their own vices. I shudder to state what I
   have lately heard, that a miserable man (I know him not), has said that
   you have told many lies in that book of yours. This is not the voice of
   a man, but of the devil; and it is not Martin who is, in this way,
   injured, but faith is taken from the Gospels themselves. For, since the
   Lord himself testified of works of the kind which Martin accomplished,
   that they were to be performed by all the faithful, he who does not
   believe that Martin accomplished such deeds, simply does not believe
   that Christ uttered such words. But the miserable, the degenerate, the
   somnolent, are put to shame, that the things which they themselves
   cannot do, were done by him, and prefer rather to deny his virtues than
   to confess their own inertness. But let us, as we hasten on to other
   matters, let go all remembrance of such persons: and do you rather, as
   I have for a long time desired, proceed to narrate the still untold
   deeds of Martin."

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

    Chapter XXVII.

   "Well," said the Gaul, "I, for my part, though I am unequal to so great
   a task, feel constrained by those examples of obedience which have been
   related above by Postumianus, not to refuse that duty which you impose
   upon me. But when I reflect that I, a man of Gaul, [107] am about to
   speak in the presence of natives of Aquitania, I fear lest my somewhat
   rude form of speech should offend your too delicate ears. However, you
   will listen to me as a foolish sort [108] of man, who says nothing in
   an affected or stilted fashion. For if you have conceded to me that I
   was a disciple of Martin, grant me this also that I be allowed, under
   the shelter of his example, to despise the vain trappings of speech and
   ornaments of words."

   "Certainly," replied Postumianus, "speak either in Celtic, or in
   Gaulish, if you prefer it, provided only you speak of Martin. But for
   my part, I believe, that, even though you were dumb, words would not be
   wanting to you, in which you might speak of Martin with eloquent lips,
   just as the tongue of Zacharias was loosed at the naming of John. But
   as you are, in fact, an orator, [109] you craftily, like an orator,
   begin by begging us to excuse your unskillfulness, because you really
   excel in eloquence. But it is not fitting either that a monk should
   show such cunning, or that a Gaul should be so artful. But to work
   rather, and set forth what you have still got to say, for we have
   wasted too much time already in dealing with other matters; and the
   lengthening shadow of the declining sun warns us that no long portion
   of day remains till night be upon us. Then, after we had all kept
   silence for a little, the Gaul thus begins--"I think I must take care
   in the first place not to repeat those particulars about the virtues of
   Martin, which our friend Sulpitius there has related in his book. For
   this reason, I shall pass over his early achievements, when he was a
   soldier; nor will I touch on those things which he did as a layman and
   a monk. At the same time, I shall relate nothing which I simply heard
   from others, but only events of which I myself was an eye-witness."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [107] The word Gaul here must be taken in its more limited sense as
   denoting only the country of the Celtae. See the well-known first
   sentence of Caesar's Gallic War.

   [108] "Gurdonicus": a word said to have been derived from the name of a
   people in Spain noted for their stolidity.

   [109] "Scholasticus."
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Dialogue II.

    Concerning the Virtues of St. Martin.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   "Well then, when first, having left the schools, I attached myself to
   the blessed man, a few days after doing so, we followed him on his way
   to the church. In the way, a poor man, half-naked in these
   winter-months, met him, and begged that some clothing might be given
   him. Then Martin, calling for the chief-deacon, gave orders that the
   shivering creature should be clothed without delay. After that,
   entering a private apartment, and sitting down by himself, as his
   custom was--for he secured for himself this retirement even in the
   church, liberty being granted to the clerics, since indeed the
   presbyters were seated in another apartment, either spending their time
   in mutual [110] courtesies, or occupied in listening to affairs of
   business. But Martin kept himself in his own seclusion up to the hour
   at which custom required that the sacred rites should be dispensed to
   the people. And I will not pass by this point that, when sitting in his
   retirement, he never used a chair; and, as to the church, no one ever
   saw him sitting there, as I recently saw a certain man (God is my
   witness), not without a feeling of shame at the spectacle, seated on a
   lofty throne, yea, in its elevation, a kind of royal tribunal; but
   Martin might be seen sitting on a rude little stool, such as those in
   use by the lowest of servants, which we Gallic country-people call
   tripets, [111] and which you men of learning, or those at least who are
   from Greece, call tripods. Well, that poor man who had been chanced
   upon, as the chief-deacon delayed to give him the garment, rushed into
   this private apartment of the blessed man, complaining that he had not
   been attended to by the cleric, and bitterly mourning over the cold he
   suffered. No delay took place: the holy man, while the other did not
   observe, secretly drew off his tunic which was below his outer [112]
   garment, and clothing the poor man with this, told him to go on his
   way. Then, a little after, the chief-deacon coming in informs him,
   according to custom, that the people were waiting in the church, and
   that it was incumbent on him to proceed to the performance of the
   sacred rites. Martin said to him in reply that it was necessary that
   the poor man--referring to himself--should be clothed, and that he
   could not possibly proceed to the church, unless the poor man received
   a garment. But the deacon, not understanding the true state of the
   case--that Martin, while outwardly clad with a cloak, was not seen by
   him to be naked underneath, at last begins to complain that the poor
   man does not make his appearance. Let the garment which has been got
   ready,' said Martin, be brought to me; there will not be wanting the
   poor man requiring to be clothed.' Then, at length, the cleric,
   constrained by necessity, and now in not the sweetest temper, hurriedly
   procures a rough [113] garment out of the nearest shop, short and
   shaggy, and costing only five pieces of silver, and lays it, in wrath
   at the feet of Martin. See,' cries he, there is the garment, but the
   poor man is not here.' Martin, nothing moved, bids him go to the door
   for a little, thus obtaining secrecy, while, in his nakedness, he
   clothes himself with the garment, striving with all his might to keep
   secret what he had done. But when do such things remain concealed in
   the case of the saints desiring that they should be so? Whether they
   will or not, all are brought to light.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [110] "salutationibus vacantes": this is, in the original, a very
   confused and obscure sentence.

   [111] Halm edits "tripeccias," which may have been the local patois for
   "tripetias" (ter-pes), corresponding to the Greek tripous, and meaning
   "a three legged stool."

   [112] "Amphibalum": a late Latin word corresponding to the more
   classical toga.

   [113] "bigerricam vestem."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

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

   "About the same time, when my uncle Evanthius, a highly Christian man,
   although occupied in the affairs of this world, had begun to be
   afflicted with a very serious illness, to the extreme danger of his
   life, he sent for Martin. And, without any delay, Martin hastened
   towards him; but, before the blessed man had completed the half of the
   distance between them, the sick man experienced the power of him that
   was coming; and, being immediately restored to health, he himself met
   us as we were approaching. With many entreaties, he detained Martin,
   who wished to return home on the following day; for, in the meantime, a
   serpent had struck with a deadly blow a boy belonging to my uncle's
   family; and Evanthius himself, on his own shoulders, carried him all
   but lifeless through the force of the poison, and laid him at the feet
   of the holy man, believing that nothing was impossible to him. By this
   time, the serpent had diffused its poison through all the members of
   the boy: one could see his skin swollen in all his veins, and his
   vitals strung up like a leather-bottle. Martin stretched forth his
   hand, felt all the limbs of the boy, and placed his finger close to the
   little wound, at which the animal had instilled the poison. Then in
   truth--I am going to tell things wonderful--we saw the whole poison,
   drawn from every part of the body, gather quickly together to Martin's
   finger; and next, we beheld the poison mixed with blood press through
   the small puncture of the wound, just as a long line of abundant milk
   is wont to flow forth from the teats of goats or sheep, when these are
   squeezed by the hand of shepherds. The boy rose up quite well. We were
   amazed by so striking a miracle; and we acknowledged--as, indeed, truth
   compelled us to do--that there was no one under heaven who could equal
   the deeds of Martin.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [114] "oblaturus sacrificium."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   "In the same way, some time afterwards, we made a journey with him
   while he visited the various parishes in his diocese. He had gone
   forward a little by himself, some necessity or other, I know not what,
   compelling us to keep behind. In the meantime, a state-conveyance, full
   of military men, was coming along the public highway. But when the
   animals near the side beheld Martin in his shaggy garment, with a long
   black cloak over it, being alarmed, they swerved a little in the
   opposite direction. Then, the reins getting entangled, they threw into
   confusion those extended lines in which, as you have often seen, those
   wretched creatures are held together; and as they were with difficulty
   rearranged, delay, of course, was caused to those people hastening
   forward. Enraged by this injury, the soldiers, with hasty leaps, made
   for the ground. And then they began to belabor Martin with whips and
   staves; and as he, in silence and with incredible patience, submitted
   his back to them smiting him, this roused the greater fury in these
   wretches, for they became all the more violent from the fact, that he,
   as if he did not feel the blows showered upon him, seemed to despise
   them. He fell almost lifeless to the earth; and we, ere long, found him
   covered with blood, and wounded in every part of his body. Lifting him
   up without delay, and placing him upon his own ass, while we execrated
   the place of that cruel bloodshed, we hastened, off as speedily as
   possible. In the meantime, the soldiers having returned to their
   conveyance, after their fury was satisfied, urge the beasts to proceed
   in the direction in which they had been going. But they all remained
   fixed to the spot, as stiff as if they had been brazen statues, and
   although their masters shouted at them, and the sound of their whips
   echoed on every side, still the animals never moved. These men next all
   fall to with lashes; in fact, while punishing the mules, they waste all
   the Gallic whips they had. The whole of the neighboring wood is laid
   hold of, and the beasts are beaten with enormous cudgels; but these
   cruel hands still effected nothing: the animals continued to stand in
   one and the same place like fixed effigies. The wretched men knew not
   what to do, and they could no longer conceal from themselves that, in
   some way or other, there was a higher power at work in the bosoms of
   these brutes, so that they were, in fact, restrained by the
   interposition of a deity. At length, therefore, returning to
   themselves, they began to enquire who he was whom but a little before
   they had scourged at the same place; and when, on pursuing the
   investigation, they ascertained from those on the way that it was
   Martin who had been so cruelly beaten by them, then, indeed, the cause
   of their misfortune appeared manifest to all; and they could no longer
   doubt that they were kept back on account of the injury done to that
   man. Accordingly, they all rush after us at full speed, and, conscious
   of what they had done and deserved, overwhelmed with shame, weeping,
   and having their heads and faces smeared with the dust with which they
   themselves had besprinkled their bodies, they cast themselves at
   Martin's feet, imploring his pardon, and begging that he would allow
   them to proceed. They added that they had been sufficiently punished by
   their conscience alone, and that they deeply felt that the earth might
   swallow them alive in that very spot, or that rather, they, losing all
   sense, might justly be stiffened into immovable rocks, just as they had
   seen their beasts of burden fixed to the places in which they stood;
   but they begged and entreated him to extend to them pardon for their
   crime, and to allow them to go on their way. The blessed man had been
   aware, before they came up to us, that they were in a state of
   detention, and had already informed us of the fact; however, he kindly
   granted them forgiveness; and, restoring their animals, permitted them
   to pursue their journey.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   "I have often noticed this, Sulpitius, that Martin was accustomed to
   say to you, that such an abundance [115] of power was by no means
   granted him while he was a bishop, as he remembered to have possessed
   before he obtained that office. Now, if this be true, or rather since
   it is true, we may imagine how great those things were which, while
   still a monk, he accomplished, and which, without any witness, he
   effected apart by himself; since we have seen that, while a bishop, he
   performed so great wonders before the eyes of all. Many, no doubt, of
   his former achievements were known to the world, and could not be hid,
   but those are said to have been innumerable which, while he avoided
   boastfulness, he kept concealed and did not allow to come to the
   knowledge of mankind; for, inasmuch as he transcended the capabilities
   of mere man, in a consciousness of his own eminence, and trampling upon
   worldly glory, he was content simply to have heaven as a witness of his
   deeds. That this is true we can judge even from these things which are
   well known to us, and could not be hid; since e.g. before he became a
   bishop he restored two dead men to life, facts of which your book has
   treated pretty fully, but, while he was bishop, he raised up only one,
   a point which I am surprised you have not noticed. I myself am a
   witness to this latter occurrence; but, probably, you have no doubts
   about the matter being duly testified. At any rate, I will set before
   you the affair as it happened. For some reason, I know not what, we
   were on our way to the town of the Carnutes. [116] In the meantime, as
   we pass by a certain village most populous in inhabitants, an enormous
   crowd went forth to meet us, consisting entirely of heathen; for no one
   in that village was acquainted with a Christian. Nevertheless, owing to
   the report of the approach of so great a man, a multitude of those
   streaming to one point had filled all the widely spreading plains.
   Martin felt that some work was to be performed; and as the spirit
   within him was thus moving him, he was deeply excited. He at once began
   to preach to the heathen the word of God, so utterly different from
   that of man, often groaning that so great a crowd should be ignorant of
   the Lord the Saviour. In the meantime, while an incredible multitude
   had surrounded us, a certain woman, whose son had recently died, began
   to present, with outstretched hands, the lifeless body to the blessed
   man, saying, "We know that you are a friend of God: restore me my son,
   who is my only one." The rest of the multitude joined her, and added
   their entreaties to those of the mother. Martin perceiving, as he
   afterwards told us, that he could manifest power, in order to the
   salvation of those waiting for its display, received the body of the
   deceased into his own hands; and when, in the sight of all, he had
   fallen on his knees, and then arose, after his prayer was finished, he
   restored to its mother the child brought back to life. Then, truly, the
   whole multitude, raising a shout to heaven, acknowledged Christ as God,
   and finally began to rush in crowds to the knees of the blessed man,
   sincerely imploring that he would make them Christians. Nor did he
   delay to do so. As they were in the middle of the plain, he made them
   all catechumens, by placing his hand upon the whole of them; while, at
   the same time, turning to us, he said that, not without reason, were
   these made catechumens in that plain where the martyrs were wont to be
   consecrated."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [115] "eam virtutum gratiam."

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

    Chapter V.

   "You have conquered, O Gaul," said Postumianus, "you have conquered,
   although certainly not me, who am, on the contrary, an upholder of
   Martin, and who have always known and believed all these things about
   that man; but you have conquered all the eremites and anchorites. For
   no one of them, like your friend, or rather our friend, Martin, ruled
   over deaths of all [117] kinds. And Sulpitius there justly compared him
   to the apostles and prophets, inasmuch as the power of his faith, and
   the works accomplished by his power, bear witness that he was, in all
   points, like them. But go on, I beg of you, although we can hear
   nothing more striking than we have heard--still, go on, O Gaul, to set
   forth what still remains of what you have to say concerning Martin. For
   the mind is eager to know even the least and commonest of his doings,
   since there is no doubt that the least of his actions surpass the
   greatest deeds of others."

   "I will do so," replies the Gaul, "but I did not myself witness what I
   am about to relate, for it took place before I became an associate of
   Martin's; still, the fact is well known, having been spread through the
   world by the accounts given by faithful brethren, who were present on
   the occasion. Well, just about the time when he first became a bishop,
   a necessity arose for his visiting the imperial [118] court.
   Valentinian, the elder, then was at the head of affairs. When he came
   to know that Martin was asking for things which he did not incline to
   grant, he ordered him to be kept from entering the doors of the palace.
   Besides his own unkind and haughty temper, his wife Arriana had urged
   him to this course, and had wholly alienated him from the holy man, so
   that he should not show him the regard which was due to him. Martin,
   accordingly, when he had once and again endeavored to procure an
   interview with the haughty prince, had recourse to his well-known
   weapons--he clothes himself in sackcloth, scatters ashes upon his
   person, abstains from food and drink, and gives himself, night and day,
   to continuous prayer. On the seventh day, an angel appeared to him, and
   tells him to go with confidence to the palace, for that the royal
   doors, although closed against him, would open of their own accord, and
   that the haughty spirit of the emperor would be softened. Martin,
   therefore, being encouraged by the address of the angel who thus
   appeared to him, and trusting to his assistance, went to the palace.
   The doors stood open, and no one opposed his entrance; so that, going
   in, he came at last into the presence of the king, without any one
   seeking to hinder him. The king, however, seeing him at a distance as
   he approached, and gnashing his teeth that he had been admitted, did
   not, by any means, condescend to rise up as Martin advanced, until fire
   covered the royal seat, and until the flames seized on a part of the
   royal person. In this way the haughty monarch is driven from his
   throne, and, much against his will, rises up to receive Martin. He even
   gave many embraces to the man whom he had formerly determined to
   despise, and, coming to a better frame of mind, he confessed that he
   perceived the exercise of Divine power; without waiting even to listen
   to the requests of Martin, he granted all he desired before being
   asked. Afterwards the king often invited the holy man both to
   conferences and entertainments; and, in the end, when he was about to
   depart, offered him many presents, which, however, the blessed man,
   jealously maintaining his own poverty, totally refused, as he did on
   all similar occasions.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [117] "mortibus."

   [118] "adire comitatum": this is a common meaning of comitatus in
   writers of the period.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   "And as we have, once for all, entered the palace, I shall string
   together events which there took place, although they happened at
   different times. And, indeed, it does not seem to me right that I
   should pass unmentioned the example of admiration for Martin which was
   shown by a faithful queen. Maximus then ruled the state, a man worthy
   of being extolled in [119] his whole life, if only he had been
   permitted to reject a crown thrust upon him by the soldiery in an
   illegal tumult, or had been able to keep out of civil war. But the fact
   is, that a great empire can neither be refused without danger, nor can
   be preserved without war. He frequently sent for Martin, received him
   into the palace, and treated him with honor; his whole speech with him
   was concerning things present, things to come, the glory of the
   faithful, and the immortality of the saints; while, in the meantime,
   the queen hung upon the lips of Martin, and not inferior to her
   mentioned in the Gospel, washed the feet of the holy man with tears and
   wiped them with the hairs of her head. Martin, though no woman had
   hitherto touched him, could not escape her assiduity, or rather her
   servile attentions. She did not think of the wealth of the kingdom, the
   dignity of the empire, the crown, or the purple; only stretched upon
   the ground, she could not be torn away from the feet of Martin. At last
   she begs of her husband (saying that both of them should constrain
   Martin to agree) that all other attendants should be removed from the
   holy man, and that she alone should wait upon him at meals. Nor could
   the blessed man refuse too obstinately. His modest entertainment is got
   up by the hands of the queen; she herself arranges his seat for him;
   places his table; furnishes him with water for his hands; and serves up
   the food which she had herself cooked. While he was eating, she, with
   her eyes fixed on the ground, stood motionless at a distance, after the
   fashion of servants, displaying in all points the modesty and humility
   of a ministering servant. She herself mixed for him his drink and
   presented it. When the meal was over, she collected the fragments and
   crumbs of the bread that had been used, preferring with true
   faithfulness these remains to imperial banquets. Blessed woman! worthy,
   by the display of so great piety, of being compared to her who came
   from the ends of the earth to hear Solomon, if we merely regard the
   plain letter of the history. But the faith of the two queens is to be
   compared (and let it be granted me to say this, setting aside the
   majesty of the secret [120] truth implied): the one obtained her desire
   to hear a wise man; the other was thought worthy not only to hear a
   wise man, but to wait upon him."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [119] Halm's text is here followed. The older texts which read "vir
   omni vitae merito praedicandus," seem hardly intelligible.

   [120] "Quod mihi liceat separata mysterii majestate dixisse."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

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

   Then said the Gaul: "Why do you not notice, as grammarians are wont to
   teach us, the place, the time, and the person? For only set before your
   eyes the picture of one kept in the palace of the emperor importuned by
   prayers, constrained by the faith of the queen, and bound by the
   necessities of the time, to do his utmost that he might set free those
   shut up in prison, might restore those who had been sent into exile,
   and might recover goods that had been taken away,--of how much
   importance do you think that these things should have appeared to a
   bishop, so as to lead him, in order to the accomplishment of them all,
   to abate not a little of the rigor of his general scheme of life?
   However, as you think that some will make a bad use of the example thus
   furnished them, I shall only say that those will be truly happy if they
   do not fall short of the excellence of the example in question. For let
   them consider that the facts of the case are these: once in his life
   only, and that when in his seventieth year, was Martin served and
   waited upon at his meals, not by a free sort of widow, nor by a wanton
   virgin, but by a queen, who lived under the authority of a husband, and
   who was supported in her conduct by the entreaties of her husband, that
   she might be allowed so to act. It is further to be observed that she
   did not recline with Martin at the entertainment, nor did she venture
   even to partake in the feast, but simply gave her services in waiting
   upon him. Learn, therefore, the proper course; let a matron serve thee,
   and not rule thee; and let her serve, but not recline along with thee;
   just as Martha, of whom we read, waited upon the Lord without being
   called to partake in the feast: nay, she who chose rather simply to
   hear the word was preferred to her that served. But in the case of
   Martin, the queen spoken of fulfilled both parts: she both served like
   Martha and listened like Mary. If any one, then, desires to make use of
   this example, let him keep to it in all particulars; let the cause be
   the same, the person the same, the service the same, and the
   entertainment the same,--and let the thing occur once only in one's
   whole life."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

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

   "Well, for my part," replied I, "I not only keep silence, but for a
   long time past I have determined to be silent upon such points. For,
   because I rebuked a certain spruce gadding-about widow, who dressed
   expensively, and lived in a somewhat loose manner, and also a virgin,
   who was following somewhat indecently a certain young man who was dear
   to me,--although, to be sure, I had often heard her blaming others who
   acted in such a manner,--I raised up against me such a degree of hatred
   on the part of all the women and all the monks, that both bands entered
   upon sworn war against me. Wherefore, be quiet, I beg of you, lest even
   what we are saying should tend to increase their animosity towards me.
   Let us entirely blot out these people from our memory, and let us
   rather return to Martin. Do thou, friend Gaul, as you have begun, carry
   out the work you have taken in hand."

   Then says he: "I have really related already so many things to you,
   that my speech ought to have satisfied your desires; but, because I am
   not at liberty to refuse compliance with your wishes, I shall continue
   to speak as long as the day lasts. For, in truth, when I glance at that
   straw, which is being prepared for our beds, there comes into my mind a
   recollection respecting the straw on which Martin had lain, that a
   miracle was wrought in connection with it. The affair took place as
   follows. Claudiomagus is a village on the confines of the Bituriges and
   the Turoni. The church there is celebrated for the piety of the saints,
   and is not less illustrious for the multitude of the holy virgins.
   Well, Martin, being in the habit of passing that way, had an apartment
   in the private part of the church. After he left, all the virgins used
   to rush into that retirement: they kiss [121] every place where the
   blessed man had either sat or stood, and distribute among themselves
   the very straw on which he had lain. One of them, a few days
   afterwards, took a part of the straw which she had collected for a
   blessing to herself, and hung it from the neck of a possessed person,
   whom a spirit of error was troubling. There was no delay; but sooner
   than one could speak the demon was cast out, and the person was cured.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [121] "adlambunt": perhaps only "touch."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   "About the same time, a cow which a demon harassed met Martin as he was
   returning from Treves. That cow, leaving its proper herd, was
   accustomed to attack human beings, and had already seriously gored many
   with its horns. Now, when she was coming near us, those who followed
   her from a distance began to warn us, with a loud voice, to beware of
   her. But after she had in great fury come pretty near to us, with rage
   in her eyes, Martin, lifting up his hand, ordered the animal to halt,
   and she immediately stood stock-still at his word. Upon this, Martin
   perceived a demon sitting upon her back, and reproving it, he
   exclaimed, Begone, thou deadly being; leave the innocent beast, and
   cease any longer to torment it.' The evil spirit obeyed and departed.
   And the heifer had sense enough to understand that she was set free;
   for, peace being restored to her, she fell at the feet of the holy man;
   and on Martin directing her, she made for her own herd, and, quieter
   than any sheep, she joined the rest of the band. This also was the time
   at which he had no sensation of being burnt, although placed in the
   midst of the flames; but I do not think it necessary for me to give an
   account of this, because Sulpitius there, though passing over it in his
   book, has nevertheless pretty fully narrated it in the epistle which he
   sent to Eusebius, who was then a presbyter, and is now a bishop. I
   believe, Postumianus, you have either read this letter, or, if it is
   still unknown to you, you may easily obtain it, when you please, from
   the bookcase. I shall simply narrate particulars which he has omitted.

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

    Chapter X.

   "Moreover, it will be worth while to relate also some of his familiar
   sayings, since they were all salted with spiritual instruction. He
   happened to see a sheep [122] that had recently been sheared; and,
   See,' says he, she has fulfilled the precept of the Gospel: she had two
   coats, and one of them she has given to him who had none: thus,
   therefore, ye ought also to do.' Also, when he perceived a swineherd in
   a garment of skin, cold and, in fact, all but naked, he exclaimed: Look
   at Adam, cast out of Paradise, how he feeds his swine in a garment of
   skin; but let us, laying aside that old Adam, who still remains in that
   man, rather put on the new Adam.' Oxen had, in one part, eaten up the
   grass of the meadows; pigs also had dug up some portions of them with
   their snouts; while the remaining portion, which continued uninjured,
   flourished, as if painted with variously tinted flowers. That part,'
   said he, which has been eaten down by cattle, although it has not
   altogether lost the beauty of grass, yet retains no grandeur of
   flowers, conveys to us a representation of marriage; that part, again,
   which the pigs, unclean animals, had dug up, presents a loathsome
   picture of fornication; while the remaining portion, which had
   sustained no injury, sets forth the glory of virginity;--it flourishes
   with abundance of grass; the fruits of the field abound in it; and,
   decked with flowers to the very extreme of beauty, it shines as if
   adorned with glittering gems. Blessed is such beauty and worthy of God;
   for nothing is to be compared with virginity. Thus, then, those who set
   marriage side by side with fornication grievously err; and those who
   think that marriage is to be placed on an equal footing with virginity
   are utterly wretched and foolish. But this distinction must be
   maintained by wise people, that marriage belongs to those things which
   may be excused, while virginity points to glory, and fornication must
   incur punishment unless its guilt is purged away through atonement.'
     __________________________________________________________________

   [122] Halm has here an unintelligible reading, probably a
   misprint--"quem recens tonsam forte conspexerat."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   "A certain soldier had renounced the military [123] life in the Church,
   having professed himself a monk, and had erected a cell for himself at
   a distance in the desert, as if with the purpose of leading the life of
   an eremite. But in course of time the crafty adversary harassed his
   unspiritual [124] nature with various thoughts, to the effect that,
   changing his mind, he should express a desire that his wife, whom
   Martin had ordered to have a place in the nunnery [125] of the young
   women, should rather dwell along with him. The courageous eremite,
   therefore, visits Martin, and makes known to him what he had in his
   mind. But Martin denied very strongly that a woman could, in
   inconsistent fashion, be joined again to a man who was now a monk, and
   not a husband. At last, when the soldier was insisting on the point in
   question; asserting that no evil would follow from carrying out his
   purpose; that he simply desired to possess the solace of his wife's
   company; and that there was no fear of his again returning to his own
   pursuits; adding that he was a soldier of Christ, and that she also had
   taken the oath of allegiance in the same service; and that the bishop
   therefore should allow to serve as soldiers together people who were
   saints, and who, in virtue of their faith, totally ignored the question
   of sex,--then Martin (I am going to repeat his very words to you)
   exclaimed: Tell me if you have ever been in war, and if you have ever
   stood in the line of battle?' In answer he said, Frequently; I have
   often stood in line of battle, and been present in war.' On this Martin
   replies: Well, then, tell me, did you ever in a line which was prepared
   with arms for battle, or, having already advanced near, was fighting
   against a hostile army with drawn sword--did you ever see any woman
   standing there, or fighting?' Then at length the soldier became
   confused and blushed, while he gave thanks that he had not been
   permitted to follow his own evil counsel, and at the same time had not
   been put right by the use of any harsh language, but by a true and
   rational analogy, connected with the person of a soldier. Martin, for
   his part, turning to us (for a great crowd of brethren had surrounded
   him), said: Let not a woman enter the camp of men, but let the line of
   soldiers remain separate, and let the females, dwelling in their own
   tent, be remote from that of men. For this renders an army ridiculous,
   if a female crowd is mixed with the regiments of men. Let the soldier
   occupy the line, let the soldier fight in the plain, but let the woman
   keep herself within the protection of the walls. She, too, certainly
   has her own glory, if, when her husband is absent, she maintains her
   chastity; and the first excellence, as well as completed victory of
   that, is, that she should not be seen.'
     __________________________________________________________________

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

   [124] "brutum pectus": the word seems to refer to the man as psuchikos,
   in opposition to pneumatikos.

   [125] "monasterio."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   "I believe, my dear Sulpitius, that you remember with what emphasis he
   extolled to us (when you too were present) that virgin who had so
   completely withdrawn herself from the eyes of all men, that she did not
   admit to her presence Martin himself, when he wished to visit her in
   the discharge of duty. For when he was passing by the little property,
   within which for several years she had chastely confined herself,
   having heard of her faith and excellence, he turned out of his way
   that, as a bishop, he might honor, with pious respect, a gift of such
   eminent merit. We who journeyed with him thought that that virgin would
   rejoice, inasmuch as she was to obtain such a testimony to her virtue,
   while a priest of so great reputation, departing from his usual rigor
   of conduct, paid her a visit. But she did not relax those bonds of a
   most severe method of life, which she had imposed upon herself, even by
   allowing herself to see Martin. And thus the blessed man, having
   received, through another woman, her praiseworthy apology, joyfully
   departed from the doors of her who had not permitted herself to be seen
   or saluted. O glorious virgin, who did not allow herself to be looked
   upon even by Martin! O blessed Martin, who did not regard that repulse
   as being any insult to himself, but, extolling with exultant heart her
   excellence, rejoiced in an example only too rare in that locality!
   Well, when approaching night had compelled us to stay at no great
   distance from her humble dwelling, that same virgin sent a present to
   the blessed man; and Martin did what he had never done before (for he
   accepted a present or gift from nobody), he refused none of those
   things which the estimable virgin had sent him, declaring that her
   blessing was by no means to be rejected by a priest, since she was
   indeed to be placed before many priests. Let, I beg, virgins listen to
   that example, so that they shall, if they desire to close their doors
   to the wicked, even shut them against the good; and that the
   ill-disposed may have no free access to them, they shall not fear even
   to exclude priests from their society. Let the whole world listen
   attentively to this: a virgin did not permit herself to be looked upon
   by Martin. And it was no common [126] priest whom she repulsed, but the
   girl refused to come under the eyes of a man whom it was the salvation
   of onlookers to behold. But what priest, besides Martin, would not have
   regarded this as doing an injury to him? What irritation and fury would
   he have conceived in his mind against that virgin? He would have deemed
   her a heretic; and would have resolved that she should be laid under an
   anathema. And how surely would such a man have preferred to that
   blessed soul those virgins who are always throwing themselves in the
   way of the priest, who get up sumptuous entertainments, and who recline
   at table with the rest! But whither is my speech carrying me? That
   somewhat too free manner of speaking must be checked, lest perchance it
   may give offense to some; for words of reproach will not profit the
   unfaithful, while the example quoted will be enough for the faithful.
   At the same time, I wish so to extol the virtue of this virgin, as
   nevertheless to think that no deduction is to be made from the
   excellence of those others, who often came from remote regions for the
   purpose of seeing Martin, since indeed, with the same object in view,
   even angels ofttimes visited the blessed man.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [126] "quemcumque," in the sense of qualemcumque, which is, in fact,
   found in some of the mss.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   "But in what I am now about to narrate, I possess you, Sulpitius" (here
   he looked at me) "as a fellow-witness. One day, I and Sulpitius there
   were watching before Martin's door, and had already sat in silence for
   several hours. We did so with deep reverence and awe, as if we were
   carrying out a watch prescribed to us before the tent of an angel;
   while, all the time, the door of his cell being closed, he did not know
   that we were there. Meanwhile, we heard the sound of people conversing,
   and by and by we were filled with a kind of awe and amazement, for we
   could not help perceiving that something divine was going on. After
   nearly two hours, Martin comes out to us; and then our friend Sulpitius
   (for no one was accustomed to speak to him more familiarly) began to
   entreat him to make known to us, piously enquiring on the subject, what
   meant that sort of Divine awe which we confessed we had both felt, and
   with whom he had been conversing in his cell. We added that, as we
   stood before the door, we had undoubtedly heard a feeble sound of
   people talking, but had scarcely understood it. Then he after a long
   delay (but there was really nothing which Sulpitius could not extort
   from him even against his will: I am about to relate things somewhat
   difficult of belief, but, as Christ is my witness, I lie not, unless
   any one is so impious as to think that Martin himself lied) said: I
   will tell you, but I beg you will not speak of it to any one else.
   Agnes, Thecla, and Mary were there with me.' He proceeded to describe
   to us the face and general aspect of each. And he acknowledged that,
   not merely on that day, but frequently, he received visits from them.
   Nor did he deny that Peter also and Paul, the Apostles, were pretty
   frequently seen by him. Moreover, he was in the habit of rebuking the
   demons by their special names, according as they severally came to him.
   He found Mercury a cause of special annoyance, while he said that
   Jupiter was stupid and doltish. I am aware that these things seemed
   incredible even to many who dwelt in the same monastery; and far less
   can I expect that all who simply hear of them will believe them. For
   unless Martin had lived such an inestimable life, and displayed such
   excellence, he would by no means be regarded among us as having been
   endowed with so great glory. And yet it is not at all wonderful that
   human infirmity doubted concerning the works of Martin, when we see
   that many at the present day do not even believe the Gospels. But we
   have ourselves had personal knowledge and experience, that angels often
   appeared and spoke familiarly with Martin. As bearing upon this, I am
   to narrate a matter, of small importance indeed, but still I will state
   it. A synod, composed of bishops, was held at Nemausus, and while he
   had refused to attend it, he was nevertheless desirous of knowing what
   was done at it. It so happened that our friend Sulpitius was then on
   board ship with him, but, as was his custom, he kept his place at a
   distance from the rest, in a retired part of the vessel. There an angel
   announced to him what had taken place in the synod. And when,
   afterwards, we carefully enquired into the time at which the council
   was held, we found, beyond all doubt, that that was the very day of the
   council, and that those things were there decreed by the bishops which
   the angel had announced to Martin.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

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

   As our friend the Gaul was emphatically speaking thus, and had not yet
   finished what he intended to relate, a boy of the family entered with
   the announcement that the presbyter Refrigerius was standing at the
   door. We began to doubt whether it would be better to hear the Gaul
   further, or to go and welcome that man whom we so greatly loved, and
   who had come to pay his respects to us, when our friend the Gaul
   remarked: "Even although this most holy priest had not arrived, this
   talk of ours would have had to be cut short, for the approach of night
   was itself urging us to finish the discourse which has been so far
   continued. But inasmuch as all things bearing upon the excellences of
   Martin have by no means yet been mentioned, let what you have heard
   suffice for to-day: to-morrow we shall proceed to what remains." This
   promise of our Gallic friend being equally acceptable to us all, we
   rose up.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Dialogue III.

    The Virtues of Martin Continued.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   "It is daylight, our Gallic friend, and you must get up. For, as you
   see, both Postumianus is urgent, and this presbyter, who was yesterday
   admitted to hear what was going on, expects that what you put off
   narrating with regard to our beloved Martin till to-day, you should
   now, in fulfillment of your promise, proceed to tell. He is not,
   indeed, ignorant of all the things which are to be related, but
   knowledge is sweet and pleasant even to one who goes over again things
   already known to him; since, indeed, it has been so arranged by nature
   that one rejoices with a better conscience in his knowledge of things
   which he is sure, through the testimony borne to them by many, are not
   in any degree uncertain. For this man, too, having been a follower of
   Martin from his early youth, has indeed been acquainted with all his
   doings; but he gladly hears over again things already known. And I will
   confess to thee, O Gaul, that the virtues of Martin have often been
   heard of by me, since, in fact, I have committed to writing many things
   regarding him; but through the admiration I feel for his deeds, those
   things are always new to me which, although I have already heard them,
   are, over and over again, repeated concerning him. Wherefore, we
   congratulate you that Refrigerius has been added to us as a hearer, all
   the [127] more earnestly that Postumianus is manifesting such
   eagerness, because he hastens, as it were, to convey a knowledge of
   these things to the East, and is now to hear the truth from you
   confirmed, so to speak, by witnesses."

   As I was saying these words, and as the Gaul was now ready to resume
   his narrative, there rushes in upon us a crowd of monks, Evagrius the
   presbyter, Aper, Sabbatius, Agricola; and, a little after, there enters
   the presbyter AEtherius, with Calupio the deacon, and Amator the
   subdeacon; lastly, Aurelius the presbyter, a very dear friend of mine,
   who came from a longer distance, rushes up out of breath.  "Why," I
   enquire, "do you so suddenly and unexpectedly run together to us from
   so many different quarters, and at so early an hour in the morning?"
   "We," they reply, "heard yesterday that your friend the Gaul spent the
   whole day in narrating the virtues of Martin, and, as night overtook
   him, put off the rest until to-day: wherefore, we have made haste to
   furnish him with a crowded audience, as he speaks about such
   interesting matters." In the meantime, we are informed that a multitude
   of lay people are standing at the door, not venturing to enter, but
   begging, nevertheless, that they might be admitted. Then Aper declares,
   "It is by no means proper that these people should be mixed up with us,
   for they have come to hear, rather from curiosity than piety." I was
   grieved for the sake of those who ought not, as he thought, to be
   admitted, but all that I could obtain, and with difficulty, was that
   they should admit Eucherius from among the lieutenants, [128] and
   Celsus, a man of consular rank, while the rest were kept back. We then
   place the Gaul in the middle seat; and he, after long keeping silence,
   in harmony with his well-known modesty, at length began as follows.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [127] The original here is very obscure.

   [128] "ex vicariis."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   "You have assembled, my pious and eloquent friends, to hear me; but, as
   I presume, you have brought to the task religious rather than learned
   ears; for you are to listen to me simply as a witness to the faith, and
   not as speaking with the fluency of an orator. Now, I shall not repeat
   the things which were spoken yesterday: those who did not hear them can
   become acquainted with them by means of the written records.
   Postumianus expects something new, intending to make known what he
   hears to the East, that it may not, when Martin is brought into
   comparison, esteem itself above the West. And first, my mind inclines
   to set forth an incident respecting which Refrigerius has just
   whispered in my ear: the affair took place in the city of Carnutes. A
   certain father of a family ventured to bring to Martin his daughter of
   twelve years old, who had been dumb from her birth, begging that the
   blessed man would loose, by his pious merits, her tongue, which was
   thus tied. He, giving way to the bishops Valentinus and Victricius, who
   then happened to be by his side, declared that he was unequal to so
   great an undertaking, but that nothing was impossible to them, as if
   holier than himself. But they, adding their pious entreaties, with
   suppliant voices, to those of the father, begged Martin to accomplish
   what was hoped for. He made no further delay,--being admirable in both
   respects, in the display, first of all, of humility, and then in not
   putting off a pious duty,--but orders the crowd of people standing
   round to be removed; and while the bishops only, and the father of the
   girl, were present, he prostrates himself in prayer, after his usual
   fashion. He then blesses a little oil, while he utters the formula of
   exorcism; and holding the tongue of the girl with his fingers, he thus
   pours the consecrated liquid into her mouth. Nor did the result of the
   power thus exerted disappoint the holy man. He asks her the name of her
   father, and she instantly replied. The father cries out, embracing the
   knees of Martin, with a mixture of joy and tears; and while all around
   are amazed, he confesses that then for the first time he listened to
   the voice of his daughter. And that this may not appear incredible to
   any one, let Evagrius, who is here, furnish you with a testimony of its
   truth; for the thing took place in his very presence.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   "The following is a small matter which I learned lately from the
   narration of Arpagius the presbyter, but I do not think it ought to be
   passed over. The wife of the courtier Avitianus had sent some oil to
   Martin, that he might bless it (such is the custom) so as to be ready
   when needful to meet different causes of disease. It was contained in a
   glass jar of a shape which, round throughout, gradually bulges [129]
   out towards the middle, with a long neck; but the hollow of the
   extended neck was not filled, because it is the custom to fill vessels
   of the kind in such a way that the top may be left free for the knobs
   which stop up the jar. The presbyter testified that he saw the oil
   increase under the blessing of Martin, so much that, the abundance of
   it overflowing the jar, it ran down from the top in every direction. He
   added that it bubbled up with the same [130] effect, while the vessel
   was being carried back to the mistress of the household; for the oil so
   steadily flowed over in the hands of the boy carrying it, that the
   abundance of the liquid, thus pouring down, covered all his garment. He
   said, moreover, that the lady received the vessel so full even to the
   brim, that (as the same presbyter tells [131] us at the present day)
   there was no room in that jar for inserting the stopper by which people
   are accustomed to close those vessels, the contents of which are to be
   preserved with special care. That, too, was a remarkable thing that
   happened to this man." Here he looked at me. "He had set down a glass
   vessel containing oil blessed by Martin in a pretty high window; and a
   boy of the family, not knowing that a jar was there, drew towards him
   the cloth covering it, with rather much violence. The vessel, in
   consequence, fell down on the marble pavement. Upon this, all were
   filled with dread lest the blessing of God, bestowed on the vessel by
   Martin, had been lost; but the jar was found as safe as ever, just as
   if it had fallen on the softest feathers. Now, this result should be
   ascribed, not so much to chance, as to the power of Martin, whose
   blessing could not possibly perish.

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

   [129] The text of this sentence is very uncertain, and the meaning
   somewhat obscure.

   [130] Here, again, the text is in confusion.

   [131] Text and meaning both very obscure.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   "You knew the too barbarous and, beyond measure, bloody ferocity of
   Avitianus, a former courtier. He enters the city of the Turones with a
   furious spirit, while rows of people, laden with chains, followed him
   with melancholy looks, orders various kinds of punishments to be got
   ready for slaying them; and to the grave amazement of the city, he
   arranges them for the sad work on the following day. When this became
   known to Martin, he set out all alone, a little before midnight, for
   the palace of that beast. But when, in the silence of the depths of the
   night, and as all were at rest, no entrance was possible through the
   bolted doors, he lays himself down before that cruel threshold. In the
   meantime, Avitianus, buried in deep sleep, is smitten by an assailing
   angel, who says to him, Does the servant of God lie at your threshold,
   and do you continue sleeping?' He, on listening to these words, rises,
   in much disturbance, from his bed; and calling his servants, he
   exclaims in terror, Martin is at the door: go immediately, and undo the
   bolts, that the servant of God may suffer no harm.' But they, in
   accordance with the tendency of all servants, having scarcely stepped
   beyond the first threshold, and laughing at their master as having been
   mocked by a dream, affirm that there was no one at the door. This they
   did as simply inferring from their own disposition, that no one could
   be keeping watch through the night, while far less did they believe
   that a priest was lying at the threshold of another man during the
   horror of that night. Well, they easily persuaded Avitianus of the
   truth of their story. He again sinks into sleep; but, being ere long
   struck with greater violence than before, he exclaimed that Martin was
   standing at the door, and that, therefore, no rest either of mind or
   body was allowed him. As the servants delayed, he himself went forward
   to the outer threshold; and there he found Martin, as he had thought he
   would. The wretched man, struck by the display of so great excellence,
   exclaimed, Why, sir, have you done this to me? There is no need for you
   to speak: I know what you wish: I see what you require: depart as
   quickly as possible, lest the anger of heaven consume me on account of
   the injury done you: I have already suffered sufficient punishment.
   Believe me, that I have firmly determined in my own mind how I should
   now proceed.' So then, after the departure of the holy man, he calls
   for his officials and orders all the prisoners to be set free, while
   presently he himself went his way. Thus Avitianus being put to flight,
   the city rejoiced, and felt at liberty.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   "While these are certain facts, since Avitianus related them to many
   persons, they are further confirmed on this ground that Refrigerius the
   presbyter, whom you see here present, lately had them narrated to him,
   under an appeal to the Divine majesty, by Dagridus, a faithful man
   among the tribunes, who swore that the account was given him by
   Avitianus himself. But I do not wish you to wonder that I do to-day
   what I did not do yesterday; viz. that I subjoin to the mention of
   every individual wonder the names of witnesses, and mention persons to
   whom, if any one is inclined to disbelieve, he may have recourse,
   because they are still in the body. The unbelief of very many has
   compelled that; for they are said to hesitate about some things which
   were related yesterday. Let these people, then, accept as witnesses
   persons who are still alive and well, and let them give more credit to
   such, inasmuch as they doubt our good faith. But really, if they are so
   unbelieving, I give it as my opinion that they will not believe even
   the witnesses named. And yet I am surprised that any one, who has even
   the least sense of religion, can venture on such wickedness as to think
   that any one could tell lies concerning Martin. Be that far from every
   one who lives in obedience to God; for, indeed, Martin does not require
   to be defended by falsehoods. But, O Christ, we lay the truth of our
   whole discourse before thee, to the effect that we neither have said,
   nor will say, anything else than what either we ourselves have
   witnessed, or have learned from undoubted authorities, and, indeed,
   very frequently from Martin himself. But although we have adopted the
   form of a dialogue, in order that the style might be varied to prevent
   weariness, still we affirm that we are really setting forth [132] a
   true history in a dutiful spirit. The unbelief of some has compelled
   me, to my great regret, to insert in my narrative these remarks which
   are apart from the subject in hand. But let the discourse now return to
   our assembly; in which since I saw that I was listened to so eagerly, I
   found it necessary to acknowledge that Aper acted properly in keeping
   back the unbelieving, under the conviction he had that those only ought
   to be allowed to hear who were of a believing spirit.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [132] "nos pie praestruere profitemur historiae veritatem."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

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

   "The monastery of the blessed man was at two miles' distance from the
   city; but if, as often as he was to come to the church, he only had set
   his foot outside the threshold of his cell, one could perceive the
   possessed roaring through the whole church, and the bands of guilty
   [133] ones trembling as if their judge were coming, so that the
   groanings of the demons announced the approach of the bishop to the
   clerics, who were not previously aware that he was coming. I saw a
   certain man snatched up into the air on the approach of Martin, and
   suspended there with his hands stretched upwards, so that he could in
   no way touch the ground with his feet. But if at any time Martin
   undertook the duty of exorcising the demons, he touched no one with his
   hands, and reproached no one in words, as a multitude of expressions is
   generally rolled forth by the clerics; but the possessed, being brought
   up to him, he ordered all others to depart, and the doors being bolted,
   clothed in sackcloth and sprinkled with ashes, he stretched himself on
   the ground in the midst of the church, and turned to prayer. Then truly
   might one behold the wretched beings tortured with various
   results--some hanging, as it were, from a cloud, with their feet turned
   upwards, and yet their garments did not fall down over their faces,
   lest the part of their body which was exposed should give rise to
   shame; while in another part of the church one could see them tortured
   without any question being addressed to them, and confessing their
   crimes. They revealed their names, too, of their own accord; one
   acknowledged that he was Jupiter, and another that he was Mercury.
   Finally, one could see all the servants of the devil suffering agony,
   along with their master, so that we could not help acknowledging that
   in Martin there was fulfilled that which is written that the saints
   shall judge angels.'
     __________________________________________________________________

   [133] "agmina damnanda."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

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

    Chapter VIII.

   "But to return to Avitianus: while at every other place, and in all
   other cities, he displayed marks of horrible cruelty, at Tours alone he
   did no harm. Yes, that beast, which was nourished by human blood, and
   by the slaughter of unfortunate creatures, showed himself meek and
   peaceable in the presence of the blessed man. I remember that Martin
   one day came to him, and having entered his private apartment, he saw a
   demon of marvelous size sitting behind his back. Blowing upon him from
   a distance (if I may, as a matter of necessity, make use of a word
   which is hardly Latin [134] , Avitianus thought that he was blowing at
   him, and exclaimed, Why, thou holy man, dost thou treat me thus?' But
   then Martin said, It is not at you, but at him who, in all his
   terribleness, leans over your neck.' The devil gave way, and left his
   familiar seat; and it is well known that, ever after that day,
   Avitianus was milder, whether because he now understood that he had
   always been doing the will of the devil sitting by him, or because the
   unclean spirit, driven from his seat by Martin, was deprived of the
   power of attacking him; while the servant was ashamed of his master,
   and the master did not force on his servant.

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

   [134] "exsufflans."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

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

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

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

    Chapter X.

   "Being accustomed to eat fish at the time of Easter, he enquired a
   little before the hour for refreshment, whether it was in readiness.
   Then Cato, the deacon, to whom the outward management of the monastery
   belonged, and who was himself a skillful fisher, tells him that no
   capture had fallen to his lot the whole day, and that other fishers,
   who used to sell what they caught, had also been able to do nothing.
   Go,' said he, let down your line, and a capture will follow.' As
   Sulpitius there has already described, we had our dwelling close to the
   river. We all went, then, as these were holidays, to see our friend
   fishing, with the hopes of all on the stretch, that the efforts would
   not be in vain by which, under the advice of Martin himself, it was
   sought to obtain fish for his use. At the first throw the deacon drew
   out, in a very small net, an enormous pike, and ran joyfully back to
   the monastery, with the feeling undoubtedly to which some poet gave
   utterance (for we use a learned verse, inasmuch as we are conversing
   with learned people)--And brought his captive boar [135] to wondering
   Argos.'

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

   [135] "captivum suem." Probably there is here an allusion to the
   capture of the Erymanthian boar by Hercules, with a punning reference
   to a secondary meaning of sus as a kind of fish.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   "I will now come to an event which he always concealed, owing to the
   character of the times, but which he could not conceal from us. In the
   matter referred to, there is this of a miraculous nature, that an angel
   conversed, face to face, with him. The Emperor Maximus, while in other
   respects doubtless a good man, was led astray by the advices of some
   priests after Priscillian had been put to death. He, therefore,
   protected by his royal power Ithacius the bishop, who had been the
   accuser of Priscillian, and others of his confederates, whom it is not
   necessary to name. The emperor thus prevented every one from bringing
   it as a charge against Ithacius, that, by his instrumentality, a man of
   any sort had been condemned to death. Now Martin, constrained to go to
   the court by many serious causes of people involved in suffering,
   incurred the whole force of the storm which was there raging. The
   bishops who had assembled at Treves were retained in that city, and
   daily communicating with Ithacius, they had made common cause with him.
   When it was announced to them expecting no such information, that
   Martin was coming, completely losing courage, they began to mutter and
   tremble among themselves. And it so happened that already, under their
   influence, the emperor had determined to send some tribunes armed with
   absolute power into the two Spains, to search out heretics, and, when
   found, to deprive them of their life or goods. Now there was no doubt
   that that tempest would also make havoc of multitudes of the real
   saints, little distinction being made between the various classes of
   individuals. For in such circumstances, a judgment was formed simply by
   appearances, so that one was deemed a heretic rather on his turning
   pale from fear, or wearing a particular garment, than by the faith
   which he professed. And the bishops were well aware that such
   proceedings would by no means please Martin; but, conscious of evil as
   they were, this was a subject of deep anxiety to them, lest when he
   came, he should keep from communion with them; knowing well as they
   did, that others would not be wanting who, with his example to guide
   them, would follow the bold course adopted by so great a man. They
   therefore form a plan with the emperor, to this effect, that, officials
   of the court being sent on to meet him, Martin should be forbidden to
   come any nearer to that city, unless he should declare that he would
   maintain peace with the bishops who were living there. But he
   skillfully frustrated their object, by declaring that he would come
   among them with the peace of Christ. And at last, having entered during
   the night, he went to the church, simply for the purpose of prayer. On
   the following day he betakes himself to the palace. Besides many other
   petitions which he had to present, and which it would be tedious to
   describe, the following were the principal: entreaties in behalf of the
   courtier Narses, and the president Leucadius, both of whom had belonged
   to the party of Gratianus, and that, with more than ordinary zeal, upon
   which this is not the time to dilate, and who had thus incurred the
   anger of the conqueror; but his chief request was, that tribunes, with
   the power of life and death, should not be sent into the Spains. For
   Martin felt a pious solicitude not only to save from danger the true
   Christians in these regions, who were to be persecuted in connection
   with that expedition, but to protect even heretics themselves. But on
   the first and second day the wily emperor kept the holy man in
   suspense, whether that he might impress on him the importance of the
   affair, or because, being obnoxious to the bishops, he could not be
   reconciled to them, or because, as most people thought at the time, the
   emperor opposed his wishes from avarice, having cast a longing eye on
   the property of the persons in question. For we are told that he was
   really a man distinguished by many excellent actions, but that he was
   not successful in contending against avarice. This may, however, have
   been due to the necessities of the empire at the time, for the treasury
   of the state had been exhausted by former rulers; and he, being almost
   constantly in the expectation of civil wars, or in a state of
   preparation for them, may easily be excused for having, by all sorts of
   expedients, sought resources for the defense of the empire.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   "In the meantime, those bishops with whom Martin would not hold
   communion went in terror to the king, complaining that they had been
   condemned beforehand; that it was all over with them as respected the
   status of every one of them, if the authority of Martin was now to
   uphold the pertinacity of Theognitus, who alone had as yet condemned
   them by a sentence publicly pronounced; that the man ought not to have
   been received within the walls; that he was now not merely the defender
   of heretics, but their vindicator; and that nothing had really been
   accomplished by the death of Priscillian, if Martin were to act the
   part of his avenger. Finally, prostrating themselves with weeping and
   lamentation, they implored the emperor [136] to put forth his power
   against this one man. And the emperor was not far from being compelled
   to assign to Martin, too, the doom of heretics. But after all, although
   he was disposed to look upon the bishops with too great favor, he was
   not ignorant that Martin excelled all other mortals in faith, sanctity,
   and excellence: he therefore tries another way of getting the better of
   the holy man. And first he sends for him privately, and addresses him
   in the kindest fashion, assuring him that the heretics were condemned
   in the regular course of public trials, rather than by the persecutions
   of the priests; and that there was no reason why he should think that
   communion with Ithacius and the rest of that party was a thing to be
   condemned. He added that Theognitus had created disunion, rather by
   personal hatred, than by the cause he supported; and that, in fact, he
   was the only person who, in the meantime, had separated himself from
   communion: while no innovation had been made by the rest. He remarked
   further that a synod, held a few days previously, had decreed that
   Ithacius was not chargeable with any fault. When Martin was but little
   impressed by these statements, the king then became inflamed with
   anger, and hurried out of his presence; while, without delay,
   executioners are appointed for those in whose behalf Martin had made
   supplication.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [136] "potestatem regiam."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   "When this became known to Martin, he rushed to the palace, though it
   was now night. He pledges himself that, if these people were spared, he
   would communicate; only let the tribunes, who had already been sent to
   the Spains for the destruction of the churches, be recalled. There is
   no delay: Maximus grants all his requests. On the following day, the
   ordination of Felix as bishop was being arranged, a man undoubtedly of
   great sanctity, and truly worthy of being made a priest in happier
   times. Martin took part in the communion of that day, judging it better
   to yield for the moment, than to disregard the safety of those over
   whose heads a sword was hanging. Nevertheless, although the bishops
   strove to the uttermost to get him to confirm the fact of his
   communicating by signing his name, he could not be induced to do so. On
   the following day, hurrying away from that place, as he was on the way
   returning, he was filled with mourning and lamentation that he had even
   for an hour been mixed up with the evil communion, and, not far from a
   village named Andethanna, where remote woods stretch [137] far and wide
   with profound solitude, he sat down while his companions went on a
   little before him. There he became involved in deep thought,
   alternately accusing and defending the cause of his grief and conduct.
   Suddenly, an angel stood by him and said, Justly, O Martin, do you feel
   compunction, but you could not otherwise get out of your difficulty.
   Renew your virtue, resume your courage, lest you not only now expose
   your fame, but your very salvation, to danger.' Therefore, from that
   time forward, he carefully guarded against being mixed up in communion
   with the party of Ithacius. But when it happened that he cured some of
   the possessed more slowly and with less grace than usual, he at once
   confessed to us with tears that he felt a diminution of his power on
   account of the evil of that communion in which he had taken part for a
   moment through necessity, and not with a cordial spirit. He lived
   sixteen years after this, but never again did he attend a synod, and
   kept carefully aloof from all assemblies of bishops.
     __________________________________________________________________

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

    Chapter XIV.

   "But clearly, as we experienced, he repaired, with manifold interest,
   his grace, which had been diminished for a time. I saw afterwards a
   possessed person brought to him at the gate [138] of the monastery; and
   that, before the man touched the threshold, he was cured.

   "I lately heard one testifying that, when he was sailing on the Tuscan
   Sea, following that course which leads to Rome, whirlwinds having
   suddenly arisen, all on board were in extreme peril of their lives. In
   these circumstances, a certain Egyptian merchant, who was not yet a
   Christian, cried out, Save us, O God of Martin,' upon which the tempest
   was immediately stilled, and they held their desired course, while the
   pacified ocean continued in perfect tranquillity.

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

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

   [138] "Pseudothyrum": Halm prefers the form "pseudoforum," but the
   meaning is the same.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   "Again, on a certain day, after he had sat down on that wooden seat of
   his (which you all know), placed in the small open court which
   surrounded his abode, he perceived two demons sitting on the lofty rock
   which overhangs the monastery. He then heard them, in eager and
   gladsome tones, utter the following invitation, Come hither, Brictio,
   come hither, Brictio.' I believe they perceived the miserable man
   approaching from a distance, being conscious how great frenzy of spirit
   they had excited within him. Nor is there any delay: Brictio rushes in
   in absolute fury; and there, full of madness, he vomits forth a
   thousand reproaches against Martin. For he had been reproved by him on
   the previous day, because he who had possessed nothing before he
   entered the clerical office, having, in fact, been brought up in the
   monastery by Martin himself, was now keeping horses and purchasing
   slaves. For at that time, he was accused by many of not only having
   bought boys belonging to barbarous nations, but girls also of a comely
   appearance. The miserable man, moved with bitter rage on account of
   these things, and, as I believe, chiefly instigated by the impulse
   received from those demons, made such an onset upon Martin as scarcely
   to refrain from laying hands upon him. The holy man, on his part, with
   a placid countenance and a tranquil mind, endeavored by gentle words to
   restrain the madness of the unhappy wretch. But the spirit of
   wickedness so prevailed within him, that not even his own mind, at best
   a very vain one, was under his control. With trembling lips, and a
   changing countenance, pale with rage, he rolled forth the words of sin,
   asserting that he was a holier man than Martin who had brought him up,
   inasmuch as from his earliest years he had grown up in the monastery
   amid the sacred institutions of the Church, while Martin had at first,
   as he could not deny, been tarnished with the life of a soldier, and
   had now entirely sunk into dotage by means of his baseless
   superstitions, and ridiculous fancies about visions. After he had
   uttered many things like these, and others of a still more bitter
   nature, which it is better not to mention, going out, at length, when
   his rage was satisfied he seemed to feel as if he had completely
   vindicated his conduct. But with rapid steps he rushed back by the way
   he had gone out, the demons having, I believe, been, in the meantime,
   driven from his heart by the prayers of Martin, and he was now brought
   back to repentance. Speedily, then, he returns, and throws himself at
   the feet of Martin, begging for pardon and confessing his error, while,
   at length restored to a better mind, he acknowledges that he had been
   under the influence of a demon. It was no difficult business for Martin
   to forgive the suppliant. And then the holy man explained both to him
   and to us all, how he had seen him driven on by demons, and declared
   that he was not moved by the reproaches which had been heaped upon him;
   for they had, in fact, rather injured the man who uttered them. And
   subsequently, when this same Brictio was often accused before him of
   many and great crimes, Martin could not be induced to remove him from
   the presbyterate, lest he should be suspected of revenging the injury
   done to himself, while he often repeated this saying: If Christ bore
   with Judas, why should not I bear with Brictio?'"
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

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

    Chapter XVII.

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

    Chapter XVIII.

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

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

The Doubtful Letters Of Sulpitius Severus.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Letter I.

    A Letter of the Holy Presbyter Severus to His Sister Claudia Concerning the
    Last Judgment.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   On reading your letters, my feelings were, in many ways, deeply moved,
   and I could not refrain from tears. For I both wept for joy because I
   could perceive from the very language of your letters, that you were
   living according to the precepts of the Lord God, and out of my
   exceeding desire after you, I could not help lamenting that, without
   any fault on my part, I was parted from you; and I would have felt this
   still more strongly had you not sent me a letter. Should I not, then,
   enjoy the company of such a sister? But I call your salvation to
   witness, that I have very often wished to come to you, but have up till
   now been prevented, through the opposition of him [139] who is
   accustomed to hinder us. For, in my eager desire, I was both urgent to
   satisfy my wishes by seeing you; and we seemed, if we should meet,
   likely to accomplish more effectually the work of the Lord, since by
   comforting one another we should live with the heavy load of this world
   trodden under our feet. But I do not now fix the day or time of
   visiting you, because, as often as I have done so, I have not been able
   to fulfil my purpose. I shall wait on the will of the Lord, and hope
   that, by my supplications and your prayers, he may bring it about that
   we reap some advantage from our perseverance. [140]
     __________________________________________________________________

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

   [140] Halm reads praesentia, instead of the old reading perseverantia`,
   but apparently without good grounds.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   But because you have desired from me in all my letters which I had sent
   to you precepts to nourish your life and faith, it has come to pass
   that, through the frequency of my writings to you, I have now exhausted
   language of that kind; and I can really write nothing new to you, so as
   to avoid what I have written before. And in truth, through the goodness
   of God, you do not now need to be exhorted, inasmuch as, perfecting
   your faith at the very beginning of your saintly life, you display a
   devoted love in Christ. One thing, however, I do press upon you, that
   you do not go back on things you have already passed away from, that
   you do not long again for things you have already scorned, and that,
   having put your hand to the plow, you do not look back [141] again,
   retracing your steps; for, undoubtedly, by falling into this fault,
   your furrow will lose its straightness, and the cultivator will not
   receive his own proper reward. Moreover, he does not secure even a
   measure of the reward, if he has, in a measure, failed. For, as we must
   flee from sin to righteousness, so he who has entered on the practice
   of righteousness must beware lest he lay himself open to sin. For it is
   written that "his righteousness shall not profit the righteous on the
   day on which he has gone astray." [142] For this, then, we must take
   our stand, for this we must labor, that we, who have escaped from sins,
   do not lose the prepared rewards. For the enemy stands ready against
   us, that he may at once strike the man who has been stripped of the
   shield of faith. Our shield, therefore, is not to be cast aside, lest
   our side be exposed to attack; and our sword is not to be put away,
   lest the enemy then begin to give up all fear: moreover, we know that
   if he sees a man fully armed, he will retreat. Nor are we ignorant that
   it is a hard and difficult thing daily to fight against the flesh and
   the world. But if you reflect upon eternity, and if you consider the
   kingdom of heaven, which undoubtedly the Lord will condescend to bestow
   upon us although we are sinners, what suffering, I ask, is sufficiently
   great, by which we may merit such things? And besides, our struggle in
   this world is but for a short time; for although death do not speedily
   overtake us, old age will come. The years flow on, and time glides by;
   while, as I hope, the Lord Jesus will speedily call us to himself, as
   being dear to his heart.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [141] Luke ix. 62.

   [142] Ezek. xviii. 24.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   O how happy shall be that departure of ours, when Christ shall receive
   us into his own abode after we have been purged [143] from the stains
   of sin through the experience [144] of a better life! Martyrs and
   prophets will meet with us, apostles will join themselves to us, angels
   will be glad, archangels will rejoice, and Satan, being conquered, will
   look pale, though still retaining his cruel countenance, inasmuch as he
   will lose all [145] advantage from our sins which he had secured for
   himself in us. He will see glory granted us through mercy, and merits
   honored by means of glory. We shall triumph over our conquered foe.
   Where shall now the wise men of the world appear? Where shall the
   covetous man, where shall the adulterer, where shall the irreligious,
   where shall the drunkard, where shall the evil-speaker be recognized?
   What shall these wretched beings say in their own defense? "We did not
   know thee, Lord; we did not see that thou wast in the world: thou didst
   not send the prophets: thou didst not give the law to the world: we did
   not see the patriarchs: we did not read the lives of the saints. Thy
   Christ never was upon the earth: Peter was silent: Paul refused to
   preach: no Evangelist taught. There were no martyrs whose example we
   should follow: no one predicted thy future judgment: no one commanded
   us to clothe the poor: no one enjoined us to restrain lust: no one
   persuaded us to fight against covetousness: we fell through ignorance,
   not knowing what we did."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [143] Clericus here remarks that "these words clearly teach us that
   Severus knew of no other purgation than that by which we are cleansed
   in this life from sin by a change of character and which change if we
   steadily maintain, then, when life is ended, we are received into the
   abode of Christ, without any dread of the fire of purgatory."

   [144] "conversatione."

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

    Chapter IV.

   Against these, from among the company of the saints, righteous Noah
   shall first proclaim, "I, Lord, predicted that a deluge was about to
   come on account of the sins of men, and after the deluge I set an
   example to the good in my own person; since I did not perish with the
   wicked who perished, that they might know both what was the salvation
   of the innocent, and what the punishment of sinners." After him,
   faithful Abraham will say in opposition to them, "I, Lord, about the
   mid-time [146] of the age of the world, laid the foundation of the
   faith by which the human race should believe in thee; I was chosen as
   the father of the nations, that they might follow my example; I did not
   hesitate, Lord, to offer Isaac, while yet a youth, as a sacrifice to
   thee, that they might understand that there is nothing which ought not
   to be presented to the Lord, when they perceived that I did not spare
   even my only son: I left, Lord, my country, and my family, at thy
   command, that they also might have an example teaching them to leave
   the wickedness of the world and the age: I, Lord, was the first to
   recognize thee, though under a corporeal [147] form, nor did I hesitate
   to believe who it was that I beheld, although thou didst appear to me
   in a different form from thine own, that these might learn to judge,
   not according to the flesh, but according to the spirit."  Him the
   blessed Moses will support in his pleadings, saying: "I Lord, delivered
   the law to all these, at thy command, that those whom a free [148]
   faith did not influence, the spoken law at least might restrain: I
   said, Thou shalt not [149] commit adultery,' in order that I might
   prevent the licentiousness of fornication: I said, Thou shalt love
   [150] thy neighbor,' that affection might abound; I said, Thou shalt
   worship the Lord alone,' [151] in order that these might not sacrifice
   to idols, or allow temples to exist; I commanded that false witness
   should not be spoken, that I might shut the lips of these people
   against all falsehood. I set forth the things which had been done and
   said from the beginning of the world, through the working within me of
   the spirit of thy power, that a knowledge of things past might convey
   to these people instruction about things to come. I predicted, O Lord
   Jesus, thy coming, that it might not be an unexpected thing to these
   people, when they were called to acknowledge him whom I had before
   announced as about to come." [152]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [146] Abraham lived (in round numbers) about 2000 years b.c., and
   assuming the beginning of the world to have been about 4000 years b.c.,
   he may thus be said to have lived about "the mid-time." The note of
   Clericus which refers the words to the end of the world seems quite
   mistaken.

   [147] The reference is to Gen. xviii.

   [148] A faith having no regard to either rewards or punishments.

   [149] Ex. xx. 14.

   [150] Lev. xix. 18.

   [151] Deut. vi. 13.

   [152] Ex. xx. 3, &c.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   After him, there will stand up David worthy of his descendant the Lord,
   and declare: "I, Lord, proclaimed thee by every means; I set forth that
   only thy name was to be worshiped; I said, Blessed is the man [153] who
   fears the Lord'; I said too, The saints shall [154] be joyful in
   glory'; and I said, The desire of the wicked [155] shall perish,' that
   these people might acknowledge thee and cease to sin. I, when I had
   become possessed of royal power, clothed in sackcloth, with dust spread
   beneath me, and with the emblems of my greatness laid aside, lay down
   in my clothes, that an example might be given to these people of
   gentleness and humility. I spared my enemies who desired to slay me,
   that these people might approve of my mercifulness, as worthy of being
   imitated." After him, Isaiah, who was worthy of the Spirit of God, will
   not be silent; but will say: "I, Lord, whilst thou wast speaking
   through my mouth, gave this warning,--Woe to those [156] who join house
   to house,' that I might set a limit to covetousness. I bore witness
   that thine anger came upon the wicked, that at any rate fear of
   punishment, if not hope of reward, might keep back these people from
   their evil deeds."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [153] Ps. cxi. 1.

   [154] Ps. cxlix. 5.

   [155] Ps. cxii. 10.

   [156] Isa. v. 8.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   After these, and several others who have discharged for us the duties
   of instruction, the Son of God himself will speak thus: "I, certainly,
   exalted on a lofty seat, holding heaven in my hand, and the earth in my
   fist, extended within and without, in the inside of all things which
   are produced, and on the outside of all [157] things that move,
   inconceivable, infinite in the power [158] of nature, invisible to
   sight, inaccessible to touch, in order that I might exist as the least
   of you (for the purpose of subduing the hardness of your heart and for
   softening your faithlessness by sound doctrines), condescended to be
   born in flesh, and, having laid aside the glory of God, I assumed the
   form of a servant, so that, sharing with you in bodily infirmity, I
   might in turn bring you to a participation in my glory, through
   obedience to the precept of salvation. I restored health to the sick
   and infirm, hearing to the deaf, sight to the blind, the power of
   speech to the dumb, and the use of their feet to the lame; that I might
   influence you, by heavenly signs, all the more easily to believe in me,
   and in those things which I had announced, I promised you the kingdom
   of heaven; I also, in order that you might have an example of escape
   from punishment, placed in Paradise the robber who acknowledged me
   almost at the moment of his death, that ye might follow even the faith
   of him who had been thought worthy of having his sins forgiven him. And
   that by my example in your behalf, ye yourselves also might be able to
   suffer; I suffered for you, that no man might hesitate to suffer for
   himself what God [159] had endured for man. I showed myself after my
   resurrection, in order that your faith might not be overthrown. I
   admonished the Jews in the person of Peter; I preached to the Gentiles
   in the person of Paul; and I do not regret doing so, for good results
   followed. The good have understood my work; the faithful have perfected
   it; the righteous have completed it; the merciful have consummated it:
   there have been a large number of martyrs, and a large number of
   saints. Those to whom I thus refer were undoubtedly in the same body
   and in the same world as you. Why, then, do I find no good work in you,
   ye descendants of vipers? Ye have shown no repentance for your wicked
   deeds, even at the very end of your earthly course. And what does it
   profit that ye honor me with your lips, when you deny me by your deeds
   and works? Where are now your riches, where your honors, where your
   powers, and where your pleasures? I pronounce no new sentence over you:
   you simply incur the judgment which I formerly predicted."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [157] The divine omnipresence is here denoted.

   [158] Or, according to another punctuation, "inconceivable in nature,
   infinite in power."

   [159] Clericus thinks this expression unscriptural, and fitted to
   support heresy. But it may be justified by such a passage as Acts xx.
   28, if theou can be accepted as the correct reading, which is now
   generally agreed upon.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   Then will the Evangelist repeat this to the wretched beings, "Go ye
   [160] into outer darkness, where shall be weeping and gnashing of
   teeth." O ye miserable men, whom these words do not now impress! They
   shall then see their own punishment, and the glory of others. Let them
   use this present world, provided they do not enjoy that eternity which
   is prepared for the saints. Let them abound in riches: let them rest on
   gold; provided that there they be found needy and destitute. Let them
   be wealthy in this world, provided they be poor in eternity, for it is
   written regarding them, "The rich were in [161] want, and suffered
   hunger." But the Scripture has added what follows respecting the
   good,--"but those who seek the Lord shall not want any good thing."

   Therefore, my sister, although those people mock at us, and although
   they call us foolish and unhappy, let us all the more joyfully exult in
   such reproaches, by which glory is heaped up for us, and punishment for
   them. And do not let us laugh at their folly, but rather grieve over
   their unhappiness; because there is among them a large number of our
   own people, whom if we win over, our glory shall be increased. But
   however they may conduct themselves, let them be to us as Gentiles and
   publicans; but let us keep ourselves safe and sound. If they rejoice
   now over us lamenting, it will be our turn afterwards to rejoice over
   their suffering. Farewell, dearest sister, and tenderly beloved in
   Christ.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [160] St. Matt. xxii. 13.

   [161] Ps. xxxiv. 10: the above rendering entirely departs from the
   Hebrew text.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Letter II.

    A Letter of Sulpitius Severus to His Sister Claudia Concerning Virginity.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   How great blessedness, among heavenly gifts, belongs to holy virginity,
   besides the testimonies of the Scriptures, we learn also from the
   practice of the Church, by which we are taught that a peculiar merit
   belongs to those who have devoted themselves to it by special
   consecration. For while the whole multitude of those that believe
   receive equal gifts of grace, and all rejoice in the same blessings of
   the sacraments, those who are virgins possess something above the rest,
   since, out of the holy and unstained company of the Church, they are
   chosen by the Holy Spirit, and are presented by the bishop [162] at the
   altar of God, as if being more holy and pure sacrifices, on account of
   the merits of their voluntary dedication. This is truly a sacrifice
   worthy of God, inasmuch as it is the offering of so precious a being,
   and none will please him more than the sacrifice of his own image. For
   I think that the Apostle especially referred to a sacrifice of this
   kind, when he said, "Now, I beseech you, brethren, by the mercy of God,
   that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable
   [163] to God." Virginity, therefore, possesses both that which others
   have, and that which others have not; while it obtains both common and
   special grace, and rejoices (so to speak) in its own peculiar privilege
   of consecration. For ecclesiastical authority permits us to style
   virgins also the brides of Christ; while, after the manner of brides,
   it veils those whom it consecrates to the Lord, openly exhibiting those
   as very especially about to possess spiritual marriage who have fled
   away from carnal fellowship. And those are worthily united, after a
   spiritual manner, to God, in accordance with the analogy of marriage,
   who, from love to him, have set at nought human alliances. In their
   case, that saying of the apostle finds its fullest possible
   fulfillment, "He who is joined to the Lord, [164] is one spirit."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [162] "per summum sacerdotem."

   [163] Rom. xii. 1.

   [164] 1 Cor. vi. 17.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   For it is a great and a divine thing, almost beyond a corporeal nature,
   to lay aside [165] luxury, and to extinguish, by strength of mind, the
   flame of concupiscence, kindled by the torch of youth; to put down by
   spiritual effort the force of natural delight; to live in opposition to
   the practice of the human race; to despise the comforts of wedlock; to
   disdain the sweet enjoyments derived from children; and to regard as
   nothing, in the hope of future blessedness, everything that is reckoned
   among the advantages of this present life. This is, as I have said, a
   great and admirable virtue, and is not undeservedly destined to a vast
   reward, in proportion to the greatness of its labor. The Scripture
   says, "I will give to the eunuchs, saith the Lord, a place in my house
   and within my walls, a place counted better than [166] sons and
   daughters; I will give them an eternal name, and it shall not [167]
   fail." The Lord again speaks concerning such eunuchs in the Gospel,
   saying, "For there are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the
   kingdom of heaven's sake." [168] Great, indeed, is the struggle
   connected with chastity, but greater is the reward; the restraint is
   temporal, but the reward will be eternal. For the blessed Apostle John
   also speaks concerning these, saying that "they follow the Lamb
   whithersoever he goeth." [169] This, I think, is to be understood to
   the following effect, that there will be no place in the court of
   heaven closed against them, but that all the habitations of the divine
   mansions will be thrown open before them.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [165] "sopire luxuriam," lit. to put to sleep.

   [166] "a filiis et filiabus": a mistaken rendering of the Hebrew text.

   [167] Isa. lvi. 5.

   [168] Matt. xix. 12.

   [169] Rev. xiv. 4.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   But that the merit of virginity may shine forth more clearly, and that
   there may be a better understanding as to how worthy it is of God, let
   this be considered, that the Lord God, our Saviour, when, for the
   salvation of the human race, he condescended to assume mankind, chose
   no other than a virgin's womb, that he might show how virtue of this
   kind especially pleased him; and that he might point out the
   blessedness of chastity to both sexes, he had a virgin mother, while he
   himself was ever to remain in a like condition. He thus furnished in
   his own person to men, and in the person of his mother to women, an
   example of virginity, by which it might be proved, with respect to both
   sexes, that the blessed state of purity possessed the fullness of
   divinity, [170] for whatever dwelt in the Son was also wholly in the
   mother. But why should I take pains to make known the excellent and
   surpassing merit of chastity, and to set forth the glorious good of
   virginity, when I am not ignorant that many have discoursed on this
   subject, and have proved its blessedness by most conclusive reasons,
   and since it can never be a matter of doubt to any reflecting mind,
   that a thing has all the more merit, the more difficult it is of
   accomplishment? For if any one judges chastity to be of no moment or
   only of small consequence, it is certain that he is either ignorant of
   the matter, or is not willing to incur the trouble it implies. Hence it
   comes to pass that those always derogate from the importance of
   chastity, who either do not possess it, or who are unwillingly
   compelled to maintain it.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [170] The text is here most uncertain; that adopted by Halm seems
   unintelligible.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   Now, therefore, since we have set forth, although in few words, both
   the difficulty and the merit of purity, great care must be taken lest a
   matter which in itself implies great virtue, and is also destined to a
   vast reward, should fail to produce its proper fruits. For the more
   precious every sort of thing is, the more it is guarded with anxious
   solicitude. And since there are many things which fail to secure their
   proper excellence, unless they are assisted by the aid of other things,
   as is, for instance, the case with honey, which, unless it is preserved
   by the protection of wax, and by the cells of the honeycombs, and is
   indeed, to state the matter more truly, sustained by these, loses its
   deliciousness and cannot exist apart by itself; and again as it is with
   wine, which, unless it be kept in vessels of a pleasant odor, and with
   the pitch frequently renewed, loses the power of its natural sweetness;
   so great care must be taken lest perchance some things may be necessary
   also to virginity, without which it can by no means produce its proper
   fruits, and thus a matter of so great difficulty may be of no advantage
   (while all the time it is believed to be of advantage), because it is
   possessed without the other necessary adjuncts. For unless I am
   mistaken, chastity is preserved in its entirety, for the sake of the
   reward to be obtained in the kingdom of heaven, which it is perfectly
   certain no one can obtain who does [171] not deserve eternal life. But
   that eternal life cannot be merited except by the keeping of all the
   divine commandments, the Scripture testifies, saying, "If thou wilt
   enter into life, keep the commandments." [172] Therefore no one has
   that life, except the man who has kept all the precepts of the law, and
   he who has not such life cannot be a possessor of the kingdom of
   heaven, in which it is not the dead, but the living who shall reign.
   Therefore virginity, which hopes for the glory of the kingdom of
   heaven, will profit nothing by itself, unless it also possess that to
   which eternal life is promised, by means of which the reward of the
   kingdom of heaven is possessed. Above all things, therefore, the
   commandments which have been enjoined upon us must be kept by those who
   preserve chastity in its entireness, and who are hoping for its reward
   from the justice of God, lest otherwise the pains taken to maintain a
   glorious chastity and continence come to nothing. No one acquainted
   with the law does not know that virginity is above [173] the
   commandment or precept, as the Apostle says, "Now, as to virgins, I
   have no precept of the Lord, but I give my advice." [174] When,
   therefore, he simply gives advice about maintaining virginity, and lays
   down no precept, he acknowledges that it is above the commandment.
   Those, therefore, who preserve virginity, do more than the commandment
   requires. But it will then only profit you to have done more than was
   commanded, if you also do that which is commanded. For how can you
   boast that you have done more, if, in respect to some point, you do
   less? Desiring to fulfill the Divine counsel, see that, above all
   things, you keep the commandment: wishing to attain to the reward of
   virginity, see that you keep fast hold of what is necessary to merit
   life, that your chastity may be such as can receive a recompense. For
   as the observance of the commandments ensures life, so, on the other
   hand, does the violation give rise to death. And he who through
   disobedience has been doomed to death cannot hope for the crown
   pertaining to virginity; nor, when really handed over to punishment,
   can he expect the reward promised to chastity.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [171] "quod sine aeternae vitae merito neminem consequi posse satis
   certum est."

   [172] Matt. xix. 17.

   [173] "supra mandatum": Clericus remarks on this, "Non supra, sed
   praeter, nam ea de re nihil praecepit Christus."

   [174] 1 Cor. vii. 25.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   Now, there are three kinds of virtue, by means of which the possession
   of the kingdom of heaven is secured. The first is chastity, the second,
   contempt of the world, and the third, righteousness, which, as when
   joined together, they very greatly benefit their possessors, so, when
   separated, they can hardly be of any advantage, since every one of them
   is required, not for its own sake only, but for the sake of another.
   First of all, then, chastity is demanded, that contempt of the world
   may more easily follow, because the world can be more easily despised
   by those who are not held fast in the bonds of matrimony. Contempt of
   the world, again, is required, in order that righteousness may be
   maintained, which those can with difficulty fully preserve who are
   involved in desires after worldly advantages, and in the pursuit of
   mundane pleasures. Whosoever, therefore, possesses the first kind of
   virtue, chastity, but does not, at the same time, have the second,
   which is contempt of the world, possesses the first almost to no
   purpose, since he does not have the second, for the sake of which the
   first was required. And if any one possesses the first and second, but
   is destitute of the third which is righteousness, he labors in vain,
   since the former two are principally required for the sake of the
   third. For what profits it to possess chastity in order to contempt of
   the world, and yet not to have that on account of which you have the
   other? Or why should you despise the things of the world, if you do not
   observe righteousness, for the sake of which it is fitting that you
   should possess chastity, as well as contempt for the world? For as the
   first kind of virtue is on account of the second, and the second on
   account of the third, so the first and the second are on account of the
   third; and if it does not exist, neither the first nor the second will
   prove of any advantage.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   But you perhaps say here, "Teach me, then, what righteousness is, so
   that knowing it, I may be able more easily to fully practice it." Well,
   I shall briefly explain it to you, as I am able, and shall use the
   simplicity of common words, seeing that the subject of which we treat
   is such as ought by no means to be obscured by attempts at eloquent
   description, but should be opened up by the simplest forms of
   expression. For a matter which is necessary to all in common ought to
   be set forth in a common sort of speech. Righteousness, then, is
   nothing else than not to commit sin; and not to commit sin is just to
   keep the precepts of the law. Now, the observance of these precepts is
   maintained in a two-fold way--thus, that one do none of those things
   which are forbidden, and that he strive to fulfill the things which are
   commanded. This is the meaning of the following statement: "Depart from
   evil, and do [175] good." For I do not wish you to think that
   righteousness consists simply in not doing evil, since not to do good
   is also evil, and a transgression of the law takes place in both, since
   he who said, "Depart from evil" said also, "and do good." If you depart
   from evil, and do not do good, you are a transgressor of the law, which
   is fulfilled, not simply by abhorring all evil deeds, but also by the
   performance of good works. For, indeed, you have not merely received
   this commandment, that you should not deprive one who is clothed of his
   garments, but that you should cover with your own the man who has been
   deprived of his; nor that you should not take away bread of his own
   from one who has it, but that you should willingly impart of your bread
   to him who has none; nor that you should not simply not drive away a
   poor man from a shelter of his own, but that you should receive him
   when he has been driven out, and has no shelter, into your own. For the
   precept which has been given us is "to weep with them that [176] weep."
   But how can we weep with them, if we share in none of their
   necessities, and afford no help to them in those matters on account of
   which they lament? For God does not call for the fruitless moisture of
   our tears; but, because tears are an indication of grief, he wishes you
   to feel the distresses of another as if they were your own. And just as
   you would wish aid to be given you if you were in such tribulation, so
   should you help another in accordance with the statement, "Whatsoever
   ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so [177] to them." For
   to weep with one that weeps, and at the same time to refuse to help,
   when you can, him that weeps, is a proof of mockery, and not of piety.
   In short, our Saviour wept with Mary and Martha, the sisters of
   Lazarus, and proved the feeling of infinite compassion within him by
   the witness of his tears. But works, as the proofs of true affection
   soon followed, when Lazarus, for whose sake the tears were shed, was
   raised up and restored to his sisters. This was sincerely to weep with
   those who wept, when the occasion of the weeping was removed. But he
   did it, you will say, as having the power. Well, nothing is demanded of
   you which it is impossible for you to perform: he has fulfilled his
   entire duty who has done what he could.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [175] Ps. xxxiv. 14.

   [176] Rom. xii. 15.

   [177] Matt. vii. 12.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   But (as we had begun to remark) it is not sufficient for a Christian to
   keep himself from wickedness, unless he also has fulfilled the duties
   implied in good works, as is very distinctly proved by that statement
   in which the Lord threatened that those will be doomed to eternal fire,
   who, although they have done no evil, have not done all that is good,
   declaring, "Then will the king say to those who are on his right hand:
   depart from me, ye cursed, into eternal fire, which my Father has
   prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry, and ye gave me
   not to eat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me no [178] drink," with what
   follows. He did not say, "Depart from me, ye cursed, because ye have
   committed murder, or adultery, or theft"; for it is not because they
   had done evil, but because they had not done good, that they are
   condemned, and doomed to the punishments of the eternal Gehenna; nor
   because they had committed things which were forbidden, but because
   they had not been willing to do those things which had been commanded.
   And from this it is to be observed what hope those can have, who, in
   addition, do some of those things which are forbidden, when even such
   are doomed to eternal fire as have simply not done the things which are
   commanded. For I do not wish you to flatter yourself in this way,--if
   you have not done certain things, because you have done certain other
   things, since it is written, "Whosoever shall keep the whole law, and
   yet offend in one point, has become guilty of all." [179] For Adam
   sinned once, and died; and do you think that you can live, when you are
   often doing that which killed another person, when he had only done it
   once? Or do you imagine that he committed a great crime, and was
   therefore justly condemned to a severer punishment? Let us consider,
   then, what it was he really did. He ate of the fruit of the tree,
   contrary to the commandment. What then? Did God punish man with death
   for the sake of the fruit of a tree? No: not on account of the fruit of
   the tree, but on account of the contempt of the commandment. The
   question, therefore, is not about the nature of the offense, but about
   the transgression of the commandment. And the same being who told Adam
   not to eat of the fruit of the tree, has commanded you not to speak
   evil, not to lie, not to detract, not to listen to a detractor, to
   swear not at all, not to covet, not to envy, not to be drunken, not to
   be greedy, not to render evil for evil to any one, to love your
   enemies, to bless them that curse you, to pray for them that malign and
   persecute you, to turn the other cheek to one smiting you, and not to
   go to law before a worldly tribunal, so that, if any one seeks to take
   away your goods, you should joyfully lose them, to flee from the charge
   of avarice, to beware of the sin of all pride and boastfulness, and
   live, humble and meek, after the example of Christ, avoiding fellowship
   with the wicked so completely that you will not even eat with
   fornicators, or covetous persons, or those that speak evil of others,
   or the envious, or detractors, or the drunken, or the rapacious. Now,
   if you despise him in any such matter, then, if he spared Adam, he will
   also spare you. Yea, he might have been spared with better reason than
   you, inasmuch as he was still ignorant and inexperienced, and was
   restrained by the example of no one who had previously sinned, and who
   had died on account of his sin. But after such examples as you possess,
   after the law, after the prophets, after the gospels, and after the
   apostles, if you still set your mind on transgressing, I see not in
   what way pardon can be extended to you.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [178] Matt. xxv. 41.

   [179] James ii. 10.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Do you flatter yourself on account of the attribute of virginity?
   Remember Adam and Eve fell when they were virgins, and that the perfect
   purity of their bodies did not profit them when they sinned. The virgin
   who sins is to be compared to Eve, and not to Mary. We do not deny
   that, in the present life, there is the remedy of repentance, but we
   remind you rather to hope for reward, than to look for pardon. For it
   is disgraceful that those should ask for indulgence who are expecting
   the crown of virginity, and that those should commit anything unlawful
   who have even cut themselves off from things lawful; for it must be
   remembered that it is lawful to contract an alliance by marriage. And
   as those are to be praised who, from love to Christ, and for the glory
   of the kingdom of heaven, have despised the tie of wedlock, so those
   are to be condemned who, through the pleasure of incontinence, after
   they have vowed themselves to God, have recourse to the Apostolic
   remedy. Therefore, as we have said, those who decline marriage despise
   not things unlawful, but things lawful. And if that class of people
   swear, if they speak evil of others, if they are detractors, or if they
   patiently listen to detractors, if they return evil for evil, if they
   incur the charge of covetousness with respect to other people's
   property, or of avarice in regard to their own, if they cherish the
   poison of revenge or envy, if they either say or think anything
   unbefitting against the institutions of the law or the Apostles, if
   with a desire of pleasing in the flesh, they exhibit themselves dressed
   up and adorned, if they do any other unlawful things, as is only too
   common, what will it profit them to have spurned what is lawful, while
   they practice what is not lawful? If you wish it to be of advantage to
   you, that you have despised things lawful, take care that you do not
   any of those things which are not lawful. For, it is foolish to have
   dreaded that which is in its nature less, and not to dread that which
   is intrinsically more [or not to avoid those things [180] which are
   interdicted, while such things as are permitted meet with contempt].
   For the Apostle says, "She that is unmarried careth for the things of
   the Lord, how she may please God, that she may be holy both in body and
   spirit; but she who is married careth for the things of this world, how
   she may please [181] her husband." He thus affirms that the married
   woman pleases her husband by thinking of worldly things, while the
   unmarried woman pleases God, inasmuch as she has no anxiety about the
   things of the world. Let him tell me, then, whom she desires to please,
   who has no husband, and yet cares for the things of the world? Shall
   not the married woman, in such a case, be preferred to her? Yes, since
   she by caring for the things of the world pleases at least her husband,
   but the other neither pleases her husband, since she does not have one,
   nor can she please God. [182] But it is not fitting that we should pass
   over in silence that which he said: "The unmarried woman careth for the
   things of the Lord, how she may please God, that she may be holy both
   in body and spirit" [she careth, he says, for the things of the Lord;
   she does not care for the things of the world, or of men, but for the
   things of God]. What, then, are the things of the Lord? Let the Apostle
   tell: "Whatsoever [183] things are holy, whatsoever things are just,
   whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if
   there be any virtue, and if there be any praise of doctrine": these are
   the things of the Lord, which holy and truly apostolic virgins meditate
   upon, and think of, day and night, without any interval of time. Of the
   Lord is the resurrection of the dead, of the Lord is immortality, of
   the Lord is incorruption, of the Lord is that splendor of the sun which
   is promised to the saints, as it is written in the Gospel, "Then shall
   the righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father":
   [184] of the Lord are the many mansions of the righteous in the
   heavens, of the Lord is the fruit which is produced, whether thirty
   fold, or sixty fold, or an hundred fold. Those virgins who think on
   these things, and by what works they may be able to merit them, think
   of the things of the Lord. Of the Lord, too, is the law of the new and
   old testament, in which shine forth the holy utterances of his lips;
   and if any virgins meditate without intermission on these things, they
   think of the things of the Lord. In that case, there is fulfilled in
   them the saying of the prophet: "The eternal [185] foundations are upon
   a solid rock, and the commands of God are in the heart of the holy
   woman."
     __________________________________________________________________

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

   [181] 1 Cor. vii. 34.

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

   [183] Phil. iv. 8, with the addition of epistemes.

   [184] Matt. xiii. 43.

   [185] Eccl. xxvi. 24.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   There follows the clause "how she may please God,"--God, I say, not
   men,--"that she may be holy both in body and spirit." He does not say
   that she may be holy only in a member or in the body, but that she may
   be holy in body and spirit. For a member is only one part of the body,
   but the body is a union of all the members. When, therefore, he says
   that she may be holy in the body, he testifies that she ought to be
   sanctified in all her members, because the sanctification of the other
   members will not avail, if corruption be found remaining in one. Also,
   she will not be holy in body (which consists of all the members), who
   is defiled by the pollution of even one of them.  But in order that
   what I say may be made more obvious and clear, suppose the case of a
   woman who is purified by the sanctification of all her other members,
   and sins only with her tongue, inasmuch as she either speaks evil [186]
   of people or bears false testimony, will all her other members secure
   the acquittal of one, or will all the rest be judged on account of the
   one? If, therefore, the sanctification of the other members will not
   avail, even when one only is at fault, how much more, if all are
   corrupted by the guilt of various sins, will the perfection of one be
   of no avail?
     __________________________________________________________________

   [186] "Blasphemet."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   Wherefore, I beseech you, O virgin, do not flatter yourself on the
   ground of your purity alone, and do not trust in the perfection of one
   member; but according to the Apostle, maintain the sanctity of your
   body throughout. Cleanse thy head from all defilement, because it is a
   disgrace that it, after the sanctifying oil has been applied to it,
   should be polluted with the juice or powder of either crocus, or any
   other pigment, or should be adorned with gold or gems or any other
   earthly ornament, because it already shines with the radiance of
   heavenly adornment. It is undoubtedly a grave insult to Divine grace to
   prefer to it any mundane and worldly ornament. And next, cleanse thy
   forehead, that it may blush at human, and not at Divine works, and may
   display that shame which gives rise not to sin, but to the favor of
   God, as the sacred Scripture declares, "There is a shame that causes
   sin, and there is a shame that brings with it the favor [187] of God."
   Cleanse, too, thy neck, that it may not carry thy [188] locks in a
   golden net and necklaces hung round it, but may rather bear about it
   those ornaments of which the Scripture says, "Let not [189] mercy and
   faith depart from thee," and hang them upon thy heart as upon thy neck.
   Cleanse thine eyes, whilst thou dost withdraw them from all
   concupiscence, and dost never turn them away from the sight of the
   poor, and dost keep them from all dyes, in that purity in which they
   were made by God. Cleanse thy tongue from falsehood, because "a mouth
   [190] which tells lies destroys the soul": cleanse it from detraction,
   from swearing, and from perjury. I beg you not to think it is an
   inverted order that I have said the tongue should be cleansed from
   swearing before perjury, for one will then the more easily escape
   perjury, if he swears not at all, so that there may be fulfilled in him
   that statement, "Keep [191] thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from
   speaking guile." And be mindful of the Apostle who says, "Bless, and
   [192] curse not." But often call to mind the following words, "See that
   no one render evil for evil to any man, or cursing for cursing, but on
   the contrary, do ye bless them, because to this ye have been called,
   that ye should possess a blessing [193] by inheritance"; and this other
   passage, "If any [194] one offend not in tongue, he is a perfect man."
   For it is shameful that those lips, by which you confess God, pray to
   him, bless him, and praise him, should be defiled by the pollution of
   any sin. I know not with what conscience any one can pray to God with
   that tongue with which he either speaks falsehood, or calumniates, or
   detracts. God listens to holy lips, and speedily answers those prayers
   which an unpolluted tongue pours forth. Cleanse also thine ears, so
   that they may not listen except to holy and true discourse, that they
   never admit into them obscene, or infamous, or worldly words, or
   tolerate any one detracting from another, on account of that which is
   written, "Hedge up [195] thine ears with thorns, and do not listen to a
   wicked tongue, that you may have your part with him, of whom it is
   said, that he was [196] righteous in hearing and seeing; i.e. he sinned
   neither with his eyes nor his ears. Cleanse, too, thy hands, "that they
   be not stretched out to receive, but shut against giving," and that
   they [197] be not prompt to strike, but ever ready for all the works of
   mercy and piety. In fine, cleanse thy feet, that they follow not the
   broad and ample way which leads to grand and costly worldly banquets,
   but that they tread rather the difficult and narrow path, which guides
   to heaven, for it is written, "Make a [198] straight path for your
   feet." Acknowledge that your members were formed for you by God the
   Maker, not for vices, but for virtues; and, when you have cleansed the
   whole of your limbs from every stain of sin, and they have become
   sanctified throughout your whole body, then understand that this purity
   will profit you, and look forward with all confidence to the prize of
   virginity.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [187] Eccl. iv. 21.

   [188] The text here is most uncertain; Halm's "ut non aurea reticula
   capillus portet" is "that thy hair may not carry golden nets."

   [189] Prov. iii. 3.

   [190] Wisd. i. 11.

   [191] Ps. xxxiv. 13.

   [192] Rom. xii. 14.

   [193] 1 Thess. v. 15; 1 Pet. iii. 9.

   [194] James iii. 2.

   [195] Eccl. xxviii. 24.

   [196] 2 Pet. ii. 8.

   [197] Eccles. iv. 31.

   [198] Prov. iv. 26.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   I believe that I have now set forth, briefly indeed, but, at the same
   time, fully, what is implied in a woman's purity of body: it remains
   that we should learn what it is to be pure also in spirit; i.e. that
   what it is unlawful for one to do in act, it is also unlawful for one
   even to imagine in thought. For she is holy, alike in body and in
   spirit, who sins neither in mind nor heart, knowing that God is one who
   examines also the heart; and, therefore, she takes every pains to
   possess a mind as well as a body free from sin. Such a person is aware
   that it is written, "Keep thy [199] heart with all diligence"; and
   again, "God loveth [200] holy hearts, and all the undefiled are
   acceptable to him"; and elsewhere, "Blessed [201] are those of a pure
   heart; for they shall see God." I think that this last statement is
   made regarding those whom conscience accuses of the guilt of no sin;
   concerning whom I think that John also spoke in his Epistle when he
   said, "If our heart [202] condemn us not, then have we confidence
   towards God, and whatsoever we ask we shall receive from him." I do not
   wish you to think that you have escaped the accusation of sin, although
   act does not follow desire, since it is written, "Whosoever [203]
   looketh on a woman to lust after her, hath already committed adultery
   with her in his heart." And do not say, "I had the thought, indeed, but
   I did not carry it out in act"; for it is unlawful even to desire that
   which it is unlawful to do. Wherefore also blessed Peter issues a
   precept to this effect: "purify your [204] souls"; and if he had not
   been aware of such a thing as defilement of the soul, he would not have
   expressed a desire that it should be purified. But we should also very
   carefully consider that passage which says, "These [205] are they who
   did not defile themselves with women, for they remained virgins, and
   they follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth"; and should reflect
   whether, if these are joined to the Divine retinue, and traverse all
   the regions of the heavens, through the merit of chastity and purity
   alone, there may be also other means by which virginity being assisted
   may attain to the glory of so great blessedness. But whence shall we be
   able to know this? From the following passages (if I mistake not) in
   which it is written, "These were [206] purchased from among men as the
   first fruits to God and the Lamb, and in their mouth there was found no
   falsehood, for they are without spot before the throne of God." You
   see, then, that they are spoken of as closely following in the
   footsteps of the Lord, not in virtue of one member only, but those are
   said to do so, who, besides virginity, had passed a life freed from all
   the pollution of sin. Wherefore, let the virgin especially despise
   marriage on this account, that, while she is safer than others, she may
   the more easily accomplish what is also required from those who are
   married; viz. keep herself from all sin, and obey all the commandments
   of the law. For if she does not marry, and nevertheless indulges in
   those things from which even married women are enjoined to keep
   themselves free, what will it profit her not to have married? For
   although it is not allowed to any Christian to commit sin, and it
   befits all without exception who are purified through the
   sanctification of the spiritual bath, to lead an unstained life, that
   they may be thoroughly identified [207] with the Church, which is
   described as being "without [208] spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing,"
   much more is it requisite that a virgin should reach this standard,
   whom neither the existence of a husband, nor of sons, nor of any other
   necessity, prevents from fully carrying out the demands of holy
   Scripture; nor shall she be able, if she fail, to defend herself by any
   sort of excuse.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [199] Prov. iv. 23.

   [200] Prov. xvii. 3; xi. 20.

   [201] Matt. v. 8.

   [202] 1 John iii. 21.

   [203] Matt. v. 28.

   [204] 1 Pet. i. 22.

   [205] Rev. xiv. 4.

   [206] Rev. xiv. 4 ff.

   [207] "visceribus intimari."

   [208] Eph. v. 27.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   O Virgin, maintain thy purpose which is destined for a great reward.
   Eminent with the Lord is the virtue of virginity and purity, if it be
   not disfigured by other kinds of lapses into sins and wickedness.
   Realize your state, realize your position, realize your purpose. You
   are called the bride of Christ; see that you commit no act which is
   unworthy of him to whom you profess to be betrothed. He will quickly
   write a bill of divorcement, if he perceive in you even one act of
   unfaithfulness. Accordingly, whosoever receives those gifts which, as
   an earnest, are bestowed in the case of human betrothals, immediately
   begins earnestly and diligently to enquire of domestics, intimates, and
   friends, what is the character of the young man, what he especially
   loves, what he receives, in what style he lives, what habits he
   practices, what luxuries he indulges in, and in what pursuits he finds
   his chief pleasure and delight. And when she has learned these things,
   she so conducts herself, in all respects, that her service, her
   cheerfulness, her diligence, and her whole mode of life, may be in
   harmony with the character of her betrothed. And do thou, who hast
   Christ as thy bridegroom, enquire from the domestics and intimates of
   that bridegroom of thine what is his character; yes, do thou zealously
   and skillfully enquire in what things he specially delights, what sort
   of arrangement he loves in thy dress, and what kind of adornment he
   desires. Let his most intimate associate Peter tell thee, who does not
   allow personal adorning even to married women, as he has written in his
   epistle, "Let wives, [209] in like manner, be subject to their own
   husbands, so that, if any believe not the word, they may, without the
   word, be won over by the conduct of their wives, contemplating their
   chaste behavior in the fear of God; and let theirs not be an outward
   adornment of the hair, or the putting on of gold, or elegance in the
   apparel which is adopted, but let there be the hidden man of the heart
   in the stainlessness [210] of a peaceful and modest spirit, which is in
   the sight of God of great price." Let another apostle also tell thee,
   the blessed Paul, who, writing to Timothy, gives his approval to the
   same things in regard to the conduct of believing women: "Let wives
   [211] in like manner adorn themselves with the ornament of a habit of
   modesty and sobriety, not with curled hair, or gold, or pearls, or
   costly array, but as becomes women that profess chastity, with good and
   upright behavior."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [209] 1 Pet. iii. 1. ff.

   [210] "incorruptibilitate."

   [211] 1 Tim. ii. 9, 10; chastity is here unwarrantably read in place of
   godliness.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   But perhaps you say, "Why did not the Apostles enjoin these things on
   virgins?" Because they did not think that necessary, lest such an
   exhortation, if given to them, might rather seem an insult than a means
   of edification. Nor, in fact, would they have believed that virgins
   could ever proceed to such an extreme of hardihood, as to claim for
   themselves carnal and worldly ornaments, not permitted even to married
   women. Undoubtedly, the virgin ought to adorn and array herself; for
   how can she be able to please her betrothed, if she does not come forth
   in a neat and ornamental form? Let her be adorned by all means, but let
   her ornaments be of an internal and spiritual kind, and not of a carnal
   nature; for God desires in her a beauty not of the body, but of the
   soul. Do thou, therefore, who desirest that thy soul should be loved
   and dwelt in by God, array it with all diligence, and adorn it with
   spiritual garments. Let nothing unbecoming, nothing repulsive, be seen
   in it. Let it shine with the gold of righteousness, and gleam with the
   gems of holiness, and glitter with the most precious pearl of purity;
   instead of fine linen and silk, let it be arrayed in the robe of
   mercifulness and piety, according to what is written, "Put ye [212] on,
   therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved bowels of mercy,
   kindness, humility," and so forth. And let the virgin not ask for the
   beauty due to ceruse, [213] or any other pigment, but let her have the
   brightness of innocence and simplicity, the rosy hue of modesty, and
   the purple glow of honorable shamefacedness. Let her be washed with the
   nitre of heavenly doctrine, and purified by all spiritual lavements.
   [214] Let no stain of malice or sin be left in her. And lest, at any
   time, she should give forth the evil odor of sin, let her be imbued,
   through and through, with the most pleasant ointment of wisdom and
   knowledge.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [212] Col. iii. 12.

   [213] "cerussae": white lead, used by women to whiten their skins.

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

    Chapter XIV.

   God seeks for adornment of this kind, and desires a soul arrayed in
   such a manner. Remember that you are called the daughter of God,
   according to what he says, "Hearken, [215] O daughter, and consider."
   But you yourself also, as often as you call God your Father, bear
   witness that you are the daughter of God. Wherefore, if you are the
   daughter of God, take care that you do none of those things which are
   unworthy of God, your Father; but do all things as being the daughter
   of God. Reflect how the daughters of nobles in this world conduct
   themselves, to what habits they are accustomed and by what exercises
   they train themselves. In some of them, there is so great modesty, so
   great dignity, so great self-restraint, that they excel the habits of
   other human beings in regard to human nobleness, and, lest they should
   attach any mark of disgrace on their honorable parents by their
   failure, they strive to acquire another [216] nature for themselves by
   the mode of their acting in the world. And do you, therefore, have
   regard to your origin, consider your descent, attend to the glory of
   your nobility. Acknowledge that you are not merely the daughter of man,
   but of God, and adorned with the nobility of a divine birth. So present
   yourself to the world that your heavenly birth be seen in you, and your
   divine nobleness shine clearly forth. Let there be in you a new
   dignity, an admirable virtue, a notable modesty, a marvelous patience,
   a gait becoming a virgin with a bearing of true shamefacedness, speech
   always modest, and such as is uttered only at the proper time, so that
   whosoever beholds you may admiringly exclaim: "What is this exhibition
   of new dignity among men? What is this striking modesty, what this
   well-balanced excellence, what this ripeness of wisdom? This is not the
   outcome of human training or of mere human discipline. Something
   heavenly sheds its fragrance on me in that earthly body. I really
   believe that God does reside in some human beings." And when he comes
   to know that you are a handmaid of Christ, he will be seized with the
   greater amazement, and will reflect how marvelous must be the Master,
   when his handmaid manifests such excellence.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [215] Ps. xlv. 10.

   [216] Only a guess can here be made at the meaning; the text is in
   utter confusion.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   If you wish, then, to be with Christ, you must live according to the
   example of Christ, who was so far removed from all evil and wickedness,
   that he did not render a recompense even to his enemies, but rather
   even prayed for them. For I do not wish you to reckon those souls
   Christian, who (I do not say) hate either their brothers or sisters,
   but who do not, before God as a witness, love their neighbors with
   their whole heart and conscience, since it is a bounden duty for
   Christians, after the example of Christ himself, even to love their
   enemies. If you desire to possess fellowship with the saints, cleanse
   your heart from the thought of malice and sin. Let no one circumvent
   you; let no one delude you by beguiling speech. The court of heaven
   will admit none except the holy, and righteous, and simple, and
   innocent, and pure. Evil has no place in the presence of God. It is
   necessary that he who desires to reign with Christ should be free from
   all wickedness and guile. Nothing is so offensive, and nothing so
   detestable to God, as to hate any one, to wish to harm any one; while
   nothing is so acceptable to him as to love all men. The prophet knowing
   this bears witness to it when he teaches, "Ye who [217] love the Lord,
   hate evil."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [217] Ps. xcvii. 10.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   Take heed that ye love not human glory in any respect, lest your
   portion also be reckoned among those to whom it was said, "How [218]
   can ye believe, who seek glory, one from another?" and of whom it is
   said through the prophet, "Increase [219] evils to them; increase evils
   to the boastful of the earth"; and elsewhere, "Ye are confounded [220]
   from your boasting, from your reproaching in the sight of the Lord."
   For I do not wish you to have regard to those, who are virgins of the
   world, and not of Christ; who unmindful of their purpose and
   profession, rejoice in delicacies, are delighted with riches, and boast
   of their descent from a merely carnal nobility; who, if they assuredly
   believed themselves to be the daughters of God, would never, after
   their divine ancestry, admire mere human nobility, nor glory in any
   honored earthly father: if they felt that they had God as their Father,
   they would not love any nobility connected with the flesh. Why, thou
   foolish woman, dost thou flatter thyself about the nobleness of thy
   descent, and take delight in it? God, at the beginning, created two
   human beings, from whom the whole multitude of the human race has
   descended; and thus it is not the equity of nature, but the ambition of
   evil desire, which has given rise to worldly nobility. Unquestionably,
   we are all rendered equal by the grace of the divine [221] bath, and
   there can be no difference among those, whom the second birth has
   generated, by means of which alike the rich man and the poor man, the
   free man and the slave, the nobly born and the lowly born, is rendered
   a son of God. Thus mere earthly rank is overshadowed by the brilliance
   of heavenly glory, and henceforth is taken no account of, while those
   who formerly had been unequal in worldly honors are now equally arrayed
   in the glory of a heavenly and divine nobility. There is now among such
   no place for lowness of birth; nor is any one inferior to another whom
   the majesty of the divine birth adorns; except in the estimation of
   those who do not think that the things of heaven are to be preferred to
   those of earth. There can be no worldly boasting among them, if they
   reflect how vain a thing it is that they should, in smaller matters,
   prefer themselves to those whom they know to be equal to themselves in
   greater matters, and should regard, as placed below themselves on
   earth, those whom they believe to be equal to themselves in what
   relates to heaven. But do thou, who art a virgin of Christ, and not of
   the world, flee from all the glory of this present life, that thou
   mayest attain to the glory which is promised in the world to come.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [218] John v. 44.

   [219] Isa. xxvi. 15, after the LXX.

   [220] Jer. xii. 13, after the LXX.

   [221] "divini lavacri": referring to baptism.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   Avoid words of contention and causes of animosity: flee also from all
   occasions of discord and strife. For if, according to the doctrine of
   the Apostle "the servant [222] of the Lord must not strive," how much
   more does this become the handmaid of the Lord, whose mind ought to be
   more gentle, as her sex is more bashful and retiring. Restrain thy
   tongue from evil speaking, and put the bridle of the law upon thy
   mouth; so that you shall speak, if you speak at all, only when it would
   be a sin to be silent. Beware lest you utter anything which might be
   justly found fault with. A word once spoken is like a stone which has
   been thrown: wherefore it should be long thought over before it is
   uttered. Blessed, assuredly, are the lips, which never utter what they
   would wish to recall. The talk of a chaste mind ought itself also to be
   chaste, such as may always rather edify than injure the hearers,
   according to that commandment of the Apostle when he says, "Let no
   [223] corrupt communications proceed out of your mouth, but that which
   is good for the edification of faith, that it may convey grace to them
   that hear." Precious to God is that tongue which knows not to form
   words except about divine things, and holy is that mouth from which
   heavenly utterances continually flow forth. Put down by the authority
   of Scripture calumniators of those who are absent, as being evil-minded
   persons, because the prophet mentions this also as among the virtues of
   a perfect man, if, in the presence of the righteous an evil-minded man,
   who brings forward things against his neighbor which cannot be proved,
   is brought down to nothing. For it is not lawful for you patiently to
   listen to evil-speaking against another, inasmuch as you would not wish
   that to be done by others when directed against yourself. Certainly,
   everything is unrighteous which goes against the Gospel of Christ, and
   that is the case, if you quietly permit anything to be done to another,
   which you would feel painful, if done by any one to yourself. Accustom
   your tongue always to speak about those who are good, and lend your
   ears rather to listen to the praises of good men than to the
   condemnation of such as are wicked. Take heed that all the good actions
   you perform are done for the sake of God, knowing that for every such
   deed you will only receive a reward, so far as you have done it out of
   regard to his fear and love. Study rather to be holy than to appear so,
   because it is of no avail to be reckoned what you are not; and the
   guilt of a twofold sin is contracted when you do not have what you are
   credited with having, and when you pretend to possess what you do not
   possess.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [222] 2 Tim. ii. 24.

   [223] Eph. iv. 29.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   Delight thyself rather in fastings than in feastings, mindful of that
   widow who did not depart from the temple, but served God with fastings
   and prayers day and night. Now, if she who was a widow, and a Jewish
   widow, proved herself such, what is it fitting that a virgin of Christ
   should now attain to? Love more than any other thing the feast of the
   divine word, and desire that you be filled with spiritual dainties,
   while you seek for such food as refreshes the soul, rather than for
   that which only pleases the body. Flee from all kinds of flesh and
   wine, as being the sources of heat and provocatives to lust. And only
   then, if need be, use a little wine, when the stomach's uneasiness, or
   great infirmity of body, requires you to do so. Subdue anger, restrain
   enmity, and whatever there may be which gives rise to remorse when it
   is done, avoid as an abomination giving rise [224] to immediate sin. It
   is fitting that that mind should be very tranquil and quiet, as well as
   free from all the tumults of anger, which desires to be the
   dwelling-place of God, as he testifies through the prophet, saying,
   "Upon [225] what other man shall I rest than upon him who is humble and
   quiet, and who trembleth at my words?" Believe that God is a witness of
   all thy deeds and thoughts, and take good heed lest you either do or
   think anything which is unworthy of the divine eyesight. When you
   desire to engage in prayer, show yourself in such a frame of mind as
   becomes one who is to speak with the Lord.
     __________________________________________________________________

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

   [225] Isa. lxvi. 2.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   When you repeat [226] a psalm, consider whose words you are repeating
   and delight yourself more with true contrition of soul, than with the
   pleasantness of a trilling voice. For God sets a higher value on the
   tears of one thus praising [227] him, than on the beauty of his voice;
   as the prophet says, "Serve [228] the Lord with fear, and rejoice with
   trembling." Now, where there are fear and trembling, there is no
   lifting up of the voice, but humility of mind with lamentation and
   tears. Display diligence in all thy doings; for it is written, "Cursed
   [229] is the man who carelessly performs the work of the Lord." Let
   grace grow in you with years; let righteousness increase with age; and
   let your faith appear the more perfect the older you become; for Jesus,
   who has left us an example how to live, increased not only in years as
   respected his body, but in wisdom and spiritual grace before God and
   men. Reckon all the time in which you do not perceive yourself growing
   better as positively lost. Maintain to the last that purpose of
   virginity which you have formed; for it is the part of virtue not
   merely to begin, but to finish, as the Lord says in the Gospel,
   "Whosoever [230] shall endure to the end, the same shall be saved."
   Beware, therefore, lest you furnish to any one an occasion even of evil
   desire, because thy God, betrothed to thee, is jealous; for an
   adulteress against Christ is more guilty than one against her husband.
   Be thou, therefore, a model of life to all; be an example; and excel in
   actual conduct those whom you precede in your consecration [231] to
   chastity. Show thyself in all respects a virgin; and let no stain of
   corruption be brought as a charge against thy person. And let one whose
   body is perfect in its purity be also irreproachable in conduct. Now,
   as we said in the beginning of this letter, that you have become a
   sacrifice pertaining to God, such a sacrifice as undoubtedly imparts
   its own sanctity also to others, that, as every one worthily receives
   from it, he himself also may be a partaker of sanctification, so then,
   let the other virgins also be sanctified through you, as by means of a
   divine offering. Show yourself to them so holy in all things, that,
   whosoever comes in contact with thy life, whether by hearing or seeing,
   may experience the power of sanctification, and may feel that such an
   amount of grace passes to him from your manner of acting, that, while
   he desires to imitate thee, he himself becomes worthy of being a
   sacrifice devoted to God.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [226] "dicis": the reference seems to be to singing or chanting.

   [227] "psallentis."

   [228] Ps. ii. 11.

   [229] Jer. xlviii. 10.

   [230] Matt. x. 22.

   [231] The text and meaning are here somewhat uncertain.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Letter III.

    A Letter of Severus to Holy Paul the Bishop.

   After I learned that all thy cooks had given [232] up thy kitchen (I
   believe because they felt indignant at having to fulfill the duty
   towards cheap dishes of pulse [233] ), I sent a little boy to you out
   of our own workshop. He is quite skillful enough to cook pale beans and
   to pickle homely beet-root, with vinegar and sauce, as well as to
   prepare cheap porridge for the jaws of the hungry monks. He knows
   nothing, however, of pepper or of laser, [234] but he is quite at home
   with cumin, and is especially clever in plying the noisy mortar with
   sweetly smelling plants. He has one fault, that he is no kindly foe to
   admit to any garden; for if let in, he will mow down with a sword all
   things within his reach, and he will never be satisfied with the
   slaughter simply of mallows. However, in furnishing himself with fuel
   he will not swindle you. He will burn whatever comes in his way; he
   will cut down and not hesitate to lay hands upon buildings, and to
   carry off old beams from the household. We present him, then, to you,
   with this character and these virtues; and we wish you to regard him
   not as a servant, but as a son, because you are not ashamed to be the
   father of very small creatures. I myself would have wished to serve you
   instead of him; but if good-will may be taken as in some measure
   standing for the deed do you only, in return, take care to remember me
   amid your breakfasts and delightful dinners because it is more proper
   to be your slave, than the master of others. Pray for me. [235]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [232] "renuntiasse."

   [233] "pulmentariis": this word generally means some sort of relish,
   but here it seems to denote a kind of pottage.

   [234] Laser was the juice of a plant called laserpitium.

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

  Letter IV.

    To the Same, on His Wisdom and Gentleness.

   The faithful exponent of our holy religion so arranges all things that
   no place be found in future for transgressors:  for what else do you,
   for instance, promise us by so great sanctity of character, than that,
   all errors being laid aside, we should lead a blessed life? In this
   matter, I see that the greatest praise befits thy virtues, because you
   have changed even an uninstructed mind by your exhortations, and drawn
   it over to an excellent condition. But it would not seem so wonderful,
   if you had simply strengthened educated minds by instilling wisdom into
   them; for intelligent men have a sort of relationship to devotion, but
   rustic natures are not easily won over to the side of severity. [236]
   Just as those who shape the forms of animals out of stone, undertake a
   business of a pretty difficult kind, when they strike very hard rocks
   with their chisels, while those who make their attempts on substances
   of a softer nature feel that their hands are aided by the ease of
   fashioning these materials, and it is deemed proper that the labor of
   the workman; when difficult, should be held in the highest honor, so,
   Sir, singular commendation ought so be given to you, because you have
   made unpolished and rustic minds, set free from the darkness of sin,
   both to think what is human, and to understand what is divine.

   No less is Xenocrates, by far the most learned of the philosophers,
   held in estimation, who succeeded by severe exhortations in having
   luxury conquered. For when a certain Polemo, heavy with wine, staggered
   openly out of a nocturnal revel at the time when his hearers were
   flocking to the school of Xenocrates, he, too, entered the place, and
   impudently took his seat among the crowd of disciples, in that dress in
   which he had come forth from the banquet. A chaplet of flowers covered
   his head, and yet he did not feel ashamed that he would seem unlike all
   the others, because, in truth, indulgence in a long drinking-bout had
   upset his brains, which are the seat of reason. As the rest of those
   there present began to murmur grievously, because so unsuitable a
   hearer had found his way in among a multitude of men of letters, the
   master himself was not in the slightest degree disturbed, but, on the
   contrary, began to discourse on the science of morals, and the laws of
   moderation. And so powerful proved the influence of the teacher that
   the mind of that impudent intruder was persuaded to the love of
   modesty. First of all, then, Polemo, in utter confusion, took off the
   chaplet from his head, and professed himself a disciple. And in course
   of time he conformed himself so thoroughly to the duties implied in
   dignity, and surrendered himself so entirely to the exhibition of
   modesty, that a glorious amendment of character threw a cloak over the
   habits of his former life. Now we admire this very thing in your
   instructions, that, without the use of any threats, and without having
   recourse to terrors of any kind, you have turned infatuated minds to
   the worship of God; so that even a badly ordered intellect should
   believe it preferable [237] to live well and happily with all, rather
   than to hold unrighteous opinions with a few.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [236] "crudelitati," which, as Clericus remarks, must here be
   equivalent to severitati.

   [237] "rectissimum," where rectius might have been expected.
     __________________________________________________________________

  Letter V.

    To an Unknown Person, Entreating Him to Deal Gently with His Brother.

   Although my lord and brother has already begged of your nobleness that
   you would see that Tutus should be most [238] safe, yet it has been
   allowed to me to commend the same person in a letter, in order that, by
   the petition being doubled, he may be held all the safer. For let it be
   granted that a youthful fault and error of a yet unsettled age has
   injured him, so as to inflict a stain on his early years; still one,
   who did not yet know what was due to right conduct, has gone wrong
   almost without contracting blame. For when he came to a right state of
   mind and to reflection, he understood on better thoughts that a
   theatrical life was to be condemned. However, he could not be
   completely cleared of his fault, unless he should wash its guilt away
   by the aid [239] of Deity, since, by the remedy obtained through the
   Catholic religion, changing his views, he has denied himself the
   enjoyment of a less honorable place, and has withdrawn himself from the
   eyes of the people.

   Of the Master as Above. [240]

   Since, therefore, both divine and state laws do not permit a faithful
   body and sanctified minds to exhibit disgraceful though pleasing
   spectacles, and to set forth vulgar means of enjoyment, especially
   since an injury seems in some degree to accrue to the chaste dedication
   of one's self, in case any one who has been renewed by holy baptism
   should fall back upon his old licentiousness, it behooves your
   Excellency to show favor to good intentions, so that he who, by the
   goodness of God, has entered on a pious duty, should not be forced to
   sink into the pitfall of the theatre. He does not, however, refuse
   compliance with the judgment of you all, if you enjoin other fitting
   actions on his part in behalf of the requirements of our common
   country. [241]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [238] There is a play upon the words--"Tutum esse tutissimum."

   [239] "divinitatis accessu": the context is almost unintelligible.

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

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

  Letter VI.

    To Salvius: a Complaint that the Country People Were Harassed, and Their
    Possessions Plundered.

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

   But I do not quite understand why you should take a delight in
   terrifying miserable husbandmen; and I do not comprehend why you wish
   to harass my rustics with the fear of want of sustenance; [242] as if,
   indeed, I did not know how to console them, and to deliver them from
   fear, and to show them that there is not so great a reason to fear as
   you pretend. I confess that, while we were occupied in the plain, I was
   often frightened by the arms of your eloquence, but frequently I
   returned you corresponding blows, as far as I was able. I certainly
   learned along with you, by what right, and in what order, the
   husbandmen are demanded back, to whom a legal process is competent, and
   to whom the issue of a process is not competent. You say that the
   Volusians wished you brought back, and frequently, in your wrath, you
   repeat that you will withdraw the country people from my little keep;
   and you, the very man, as I hope and desire, bound to me by the ties of
   old relationship, now rashly threaten that, casting our agreement to
   the winds, you will lay hold upon my men. I ask of your illustrious
   knowledge, whether there is one law for advocates, and another for
   private persons, whether one thing is just at Rome, and quite another
   thing at Matarum.

   In the meantime, I do not know that you were ever lord of the Volusian
   property, since Dionysius is said to have preserved the right of
   possession to it, and he never wanted heirs; who, while he lived, was
   accustomed to hurl the envenomed jibes of his low language upon a
   multitude of individuals. [243] There was, at that time, one
   Porphyrius, the son of Zibberinus, and yet he was not properly named
   the son of Zibberinus. He kept hidden, by military service, the
   question as to his birth, and, that he might dispel the cloud from his
   forehead, he took part in officious services and willing acts of
   submission. He was much with me both at home and in the forum, having
   often employed me as his defender with my father, and as his advocate
   before the judge. Sometimes I even kept back Dionysius, feeling that he
   ought not, for the sake of twenty acres to discharge vulgar abuse upon
   Porphyrius.

   See, here is the reason why thy remarkable prudence threatened my
   agents, so that, though you are not the owner of the place, you
   everywhere make mention of my husbandmen. But if you give yourself out
   as the successor of Porphyrius, you must know that the narrow space of
   twenty acres cannot certainly be managed by one cultivator, or, if
   mindful of your proper dignity and determined to maintain it, you
   shrink from naming yourself the heir of Porphyrius, it is certain and
   obvious that he can commence proceedings, [244] to whom the right of
   doing so belongs, so as to go to law with those who have no property in
   that land. But if you diligently look into the matter, you will see
   that the endeavor to recover it most especially devolves on me.
   Wherefore, my much esteemed lord and brother, it behooves you to be at
   peace, and to return to friendship with me, while you condescend to
   come to a private conference. Cease, I pray you, to disturb inactive
   and easily frightened persons, and utter your boastful words at a
   distance. Believe me, however, that I am delighted with your high
   spirit, and by no means offended; for we are neither of a harsh
   disposition, nor destitute of learning. Let Maximinus at least render
   you gentle. [245]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [242] "exhibitionis formidine"--a strange phrase.

   [243] The text is uncertain, and the meaning very obscure.

   [244] "posse proponere."

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

  Letter VII.

    To an Unknown Person, Begging the Favor of a Letter.

   The faith and piety of souls, no doubt, remain, but this should be made
   known by the evidence of a letter, in order that an increase of
   affection may be gained by such mutual courtesy. For just as a fertile
   field cannot bring forth abundant fruits, if its cultivation has been
   neglected, and the good qualities of soil are lost through the
   indolence of one who rests, instead of working, so I think that the
   love and kindly feelings of the mind grow feeble, unless those who are
   absent are visited, as if present, by means of a letter. [246]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [246] Most editions add "Deo gratias, Amen."
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

The Sacred History Of Sulpitius Severus.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Book I.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   I address myself to give a condensed account of those things which are
   set forth in the sacred Scriptures from the beginning of the world and
   to tell of them, with distinction of dates and according to [247] their
   importance, down to period within our own remembrance. Many who were
   anxious to become acquainted with divine things by means of a
   compendious treatise, have eagerly entreated me to undertake this work.
   I, seeking to carry out their wish, have not spared my labor, and have
   thus succeeded in comprising in two short books things which elsewhere
   filled many volumes. At the same time, in studying brevity, I have
   omitted hardly any of the facts. Moreover, it seemed to me not out of
   place that, after I had run through the sacred history down to the
   crucifixion of Christ, and the doings of the Apostles, I should add an
   account of events which subsequently took place. I am, therefore, to
   tell of the destruction of Jerusalem, the persecutions of the Christian
   people, the times of peace which followed, and of all things again
   thrown into confusion by the intestine dangers of the churches. But I
   will not shrink from confessing that, wherever reason required, I have
   made use of profane historians to fix dates and preserve the series of
   events unbroken, and have taken out of these what was wanting to a
   complete knowledge of the facts, that I might both instruct the
   ignorant and carry conviction to the learned. Nevertheless, as to those
   things which I have condensed from the sacred books, I do not wish so
   to present myself as an author to my readers, that they, neglecting the
   source from which my materials have been derived, should be satisfied
   with what I have written. My aim is that one who is already familiar
   with the original should recognize here what he has read there; for all
   the mysteries of divine things cannot be brought out except from the
   fountain-head itself. I shall now enter upon my narrative.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [247] "carptim": such seems to be the meaning of the word here, as
   Sigonius has noted. His words are "Carptim--profecto innuit se non
   singulas res eodem modo persecuturum, sed quae memoratu digniores visae
   fuerint, selecturum."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   The world was created by God nearly six [248] thousand years ago, as we
   shall set forth in the course of this book; although those who have
   entered upon and published a calculation of the dates, but little agree
   among themselves. As, however, this disagreement is due either to the
   will of God or to the fault of antiquity, it ought not to be a matter
   of censure. After the formation of the world man was created, the male
   being named Adam, and the female Eve. Having been placed in Paradise,
   they ate of the tree from which they were interdicted, and therefore
   were cast forth as exiles into our earth. [249] To them were born Cain
   and Abel; but Cain, being an impious man, slew his brother. He had a
   son called Enoch, by whom a city was first built, [250] and was called
   after the name of its founder. From him Irad, and from him again
   Maueiahel was descended. He had a son called Mathusalam, and he, in
   turn, begat Lamech, by whom a young man is said to have been slain,
   without, however, the name of the slain man being mentioned--a fact
   which is thought by the wise to have presaged a future mystery. Adam,
   then, after the death of his younger son, begat another son called
   Seth, when he was now two hundred and thirty years old: he lived
   altogether eight hundred and thirty years. Seth begat Enos, Enos
   Cainan, Cainan Malaleel, Malaleel Jared, and Jared Enoch, who on
   account of his righteousness is said to have been translated by God.
   His son was called Mathusalam who begat Lamech; from whom Noah was
   descended, remarkable for his righteousness, and above all other
   mortals dear and acceptable to God. When by this time the human race
   had increased to a great multitude, certain angels, whose habitation
   was in heaven, were captivated by the appearance of some beautiful
   virgins, and cherished illicit desires after them, so much so, that
   falling beneath their own proper nature and origin, they left the
   higher regions of which they were inhabitants, and allied themselves in
   earthly marriages. These angels gradually spreading wicked habits,
   corrupted the human family, and from their alliance giants are said to
   have sprung, for the mixture with them of beings of a different nature,
   as a matter of course, gave birth to monsters.
     __________________________________________________________________

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

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

   [250] An obvious mistake. The first city was built, not by Enoch but by
   Cain. Gen. iv. 17.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

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

   [251] After the LXX, as usual.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   Then Noah first of all erected an altar to God, and offered sacrifices
   from among the birds. [252] Immediately afterwards he was blessed by
   God along with his sons, and received a command that he should not eat
   blood, or shed the blood of any human being, because Cain, having no
   such precept, had stained the first age of the world. Accordingly, the
   sons of Noah were alone left in the then vacant world; for he had
   three, Shem, Ham, and Japhet. But Ham, because he had mocked his father
   when senseless with wine, incurred his father's curse. His son, Chas by
   name, begat the giant Nebroth, [253] by whom the city of Babylon is
   said to have been built. Many other towns are related to have been
   founded at that time, which I do not here intend to name one by one.
   But although the human race was now multiplied, and men occupied
   different places and islands, nevertheless all made use of one tongue,
   as long as the multitude, afterwards to be scattered through the whole
   world, kept itself in one body. These, after the manner of human
   nature, formed the design of obtaining a great name by constructing
   some great work before they should be separated from one another. They
   therefore attempted to build a tower which should reach up to heaven.
   But by the ordination of God, in order that the labors of those engaged
   in the work might be hindered, they began to speak in a kind of
   languages very different from their accustomed form of speech, while no
   one understood the others. This led to their being all the more readily
   dispersed, because, regarding each other as foreigners, they were
   easily induced to separate. And the world was so divided to the sons of
   Noah, that Shem occupied the East, Japhet the West, and Ham the
   intermediate parts. After this, till the time of Abraham, [254] their
   genealogy presented nothing very remarkable or worthy of record.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [252] Not of birds only, but other animals also. Gen. viii. 20.

   [253] This is the Nimrod of the A.V.; he is called Nebrod by the LXX.
   We have, for the most part, given the proper names as they appear in
   the edition of Halm.

   [254] Such is the form of the name as given by Halm, though Abram would
   be expected.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   Abraham, whose father was Thara, was born in the one thousand and
   seventeenth year after the deluge. His wife was called Sara, and his
   dwelling-place was at first in the country [255] of the Chaldaeans. He
   then dwelt along with his father at Charrae. Being at this time spoken
   to by God, he left his country and his father, and taking with him Lot,
   the son of his brother, he came into the country of the Canaanites, and
   settled at a place named Sychem. Ere long, owing to the want of corn,
   he went into Egypt, and again returned. Lot, owing to the size of the
   household, parted from his uncle, that he might take advantage of more
   spacious territories in what was then a vacant region, and settled at
   Sodom. That town was infamous on account of its inhabitants, males
   forcing themselves upon males, and it is said on that account to have
   been hateful to God. At that period the kings of the neighboring
   peoples were in arms, though previously there had been no [256] war
   among mankind. But the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah and of the adjacent
   territories went forth to battle against those who were making war upon
   the regions round about, and being routed at the first onset, yielded
   the victory to the opposite side. Then Sodom was plundered and made a
   spoil of by the victorious enemy, while Lot was led into captivity.
   When Abraham heard of this, he speedily armed his servants, to the
   number of three hundred and eighteen, and, stripping of their spoils
   and arms the kings flushed with victory, he put them to flight. Then he
   was blessed by Melchisedech the priest, and gave him tithes of the
   spoil. He restored the remainder to those from whom it had been taken.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [255] The LXX has chora, instead of Ur.

   [256] A most improbable statement.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   At the same time God spoke to Abraham, and promised that his seed was
   to be multiplied as the sand of the sea; and that his predicted seed
   would live in a land not his own, while his posterity would endure
   slavery in a hostile country for four hundred years, but would
   afterwards be restored to liberty. Then his name was changed, as well
   as that of his wife, by the addition of one letter; so that instead of
   Abram [257] he was called Abraham, and, instead of Sara, she was called
   Sarra. The mystery involved in this is by no means trifling, but it is
   not the part of this work to treat of it. At the same time, the law of
   circumcision was enjoined on Abraham, and he had by a maid-servant a
   son called Ishmael. Moreover, when he himself was a hundred years old,
   and his wife ninety, God promised that they should have a son Isaac,
   the Lord having come to him along with two angels. Then the angels
   being sent to Sodom, found Lot sitting in the gate of the city. He
   supposed them to be human beings, and welcomed them to share in his
   hospitality, and provided an entertainment for them in his house, but
   the wicked youth of the town demanded the new arrivals for impure
   purposes. Lot offered them his daughters in place of his guests, but
   they did not accept the offer, having a desire rather for things
   forbidden, and then Lot himself was laid hold of with vile designs. The
   angels, however, speedily rescued him from danger, by causing blindness
   to fall upon the eyes of these unchaste sinners. Then Lot, being
   informed by his guests that the town was to be destroyed, went away
   from it with his wife and daughters; but they were commanded not to
   look back upon it. His wife, however, not obeying this precept (in
   accordance with that evil tendency of human nature which renders it
   difficult to abstain from things forbidden), turned back her eyes, and
   is said to have been at once changed into a monument. As for Sodom, it
   was burned to ashes by fire from heaven. And the daughters of Lot,
   imagining that the whole human race had perished, sought a union with
   their father while he was intoxicated, and hence sprung the race of
   Moab and Ammon.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [257] In the Greek of the LXX. the name appears as Abraam, so that, as
   our author says, there is only a change of one letter.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   Almost at the same time, when Abraham was now a hundred years old, his
   son Isaac was born. Then Sara expelled the maid-servant by whom Abraham
   had had a son; and she is said to have dwelt in the desert along with
   her son, and defended by the help of God. Not long after this, God
   tried the faith of Abraham, and required that his son Isaac should be
   sacrificed to him by his father. Abraham did not hesitate to offer him,
   and had already laid the lad upon the altar, and was drawing the sword
   to slay him, when a voice came from heaven commanding him to spare the
   young man; and a ram was found at hand to be for a victim. When the
   sacrifice was offered, God spoke to Abraham, and promised him those
   things which he had already said he would bestow. But Sara died in her
   one hundred and twenty-seventh year, and her body was, through the care
   of her husband, buried in Hebron, a town of the Canaanites, for Abraham
   was staying in that place. Then Abraham, seeing that his son Isaac was
   now of youthful [258] age, for he was, in fact, in his fortieth year,
   enjoined his servant to seek a wife for him, but only from that tribe
   and territory from which he himself was known to be descended. He was
   instructed, however, on finding the girl, to bring her into the land of
   the Canaanites, and not to suppose that Isaac would return into the
   country of his father for the purpose of obtaining a wife. In order
   that the servant might carry out those instructions zealously, Abraham
   administered an oath to him, while his hand rested on the thigh of his
   master. The servant accordingly set out for Mesopotamia, and came to
   the town of Nachor, the brother of Abraham. He entered into the house
   of Bathuel, the Syrian, son of Nachor; and having seen Rebecca, a
   beautiful virgin, the daughter of Nachor, he asked for her, and brought
   her to his master. After this, Abraham took a wife named Kethurah, who
   is called in the Chronicles his concubine, and begat children by her.
   But he left his possessions to Isaac, the son of Sara, while, at the
   same time, he distributed gifts to those whom he had begotten by his
   concubines; and thus they were separated from Isaac. Abraham died after
   a life of a hundred and seventy-five years; and his body was laid in
   the tomb of Sara his wife.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [258] "juvenilis aetatis":  the meaning is that he ceased to be a mere
   adolescens, and had reached the flower of his age.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Now, Rebecca, having long been barren, at length, through the unceasing
   prayers of her husband to the Lord, brought forth twins about twenty
   years after the time of her marriage. These are said to have often
   leaped [259] in the womb of their mother; and it was announced by the
   answer of the Lord on this subject, that two peoples were foretold in
   these children, and that the elder would, in rank, be inferior to the
   younger. Well, the first that was born, bristling over with hair, was
   called Esau, while Jacob was the name given to the younger. At that
   time, a grievous famine had taken place. Under the pressure of this
   necessity, Isaac went to Gerar, to King Abimelech, having been warned
   by the Lord not to go down into Egypt. There he is promised the
   possession of the whole land, and is blessed, and having been greatly
   increased in cattle and every kind of substance, he is, under the
   influence of envy, driven out by the inhabitants. Thus expelled from
   that region, he sojourned by the well, known as "the well [260] of the
   oath." By and by, being advanced in years, and his eyesight being gone,
   as he made ready to bless his son Esau, Jacob through the counsel of
   his mother, Rebecca, presented himself to be blessed in the place of
   his brother. Thus Jacob is set before his brother as the one to be
   honored by the princes and the peoples. Esau, enraged by these
   occurrences, plotted the death of his brother. Jacob, owing to the fear
   thus excited, and by the advice of his mother, fled into Mesopotamia,
   having been urged by his father to take a wife of the house of Laban,
   Rebecca's brother: so great was their care, while they dwelt in a
   strange country, that their children should marry within their own
   kindred. Thus Jacob, setting out for Mesopotamia, is said in sleep to
   have had a vision of the Lord; and on that account regarding the place
   of his dream as sacred, he took a stone from it; and he vowed that, if
   he returned in prosperity, the name [261] of the pillar should be the
   "house of the Lord," and that he would devote to God the tithes of all
   the possessions he had gained. Then he betook himself to Laban, his
   mother's brother, and was kindly received by him to share in his
   hospitality as the acknowledged son of his sister.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [259] So in LXX.

   [260] This is the meaning of the Hebrew word, Beersheba.

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

    Chapter IX.

   Laban had two daughters, Leah and Rachel; but Leah had tender eyes,
   while Rachel is said to have been beautiful. Jacob, captivated by her
   beauty, burned with love for the virgin, and, asking her in marriage
   from the father, gave himself up to a servitude of seven years. But
   when the time was fulfilled, Leah was foisted upon him, and he was
   subjected to another servitude of seven years, after which Rachel was
   given him. But we are told that she was long barren, while Leah was
   fruitful. Of the sons whom Jacob had by Leah, the following are the
   names: Reuben, Symeon, Levi, Judah, Issachar, Zebulon, and a daughter
   Dinah; while there were born to him by the handmaid of Leah, Gad and
   Asher, and by the handmaid of Rachel, Dan and Naphtali. But Rachel,
   after she had despaired of offspring, bare Joseph. Then Jacob, being
   desirous of returning to his father, when Laban his father-in-law had
   given him a portion of the flock as a reward for his service, and Jacob
   the son-in-law, thinking him not to be acting justly in that matter,
   while he [also] suspected deceit on his part, privately departed about
   the thirtieth year after his arrival. Rachel, without the knowledge of
   her husband, stole the idols [262] of her father, and on account of
   this injury Laban followed his son-in-law, but not finding his idols,
   returned, after being reconciled, having straitly charged his
   son-in-law not to take other wives in addition to his daughters. Then
   Jacob, going on his way, is said to have had a vision of angels and of
   the army [263] of the Lord. But, as he directed his journey past the
   region of Edom, which his brother Esau inhabited, suspecting the temper
   of Esau, he first sent messengers and gifts to try him. Then he went to
   meet his brother, but Jacob took care not to trust him beyond what he
   could help. On the day before the brothers were to meet, God, taking a
   human form, is said to have wrestled with Jacob. And when he had
   prevailed with God, still he was not ignorant that his adversary was no
   mere mortal; and therefore begged to be blessed by him. Then his name
   was changed by God, so that from Jacob he was called Israel. But when
   he, in turn, inquired of God the name of God, he was told that that
   should not be asked after because it was wonderful. [264] Moreover,
   from that wrestling, the breadth [265] of Jacob's thigh shrank.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [262] eidola is the Septuagint rendering of the Hebrew word Teraphim.
   Perhaps the original word should simply be transliterated into English
   as has been done in the Revised Version.

   [263] The rendering of the LXX.

   [264] "Admirabile."

   [265] "Latitudo": Vorstius says this refers to the broad bone, or broad
   nerve of the thigh.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   Israel, therefore, avoiding the house of his brother, sent forward his
   company to Salem, a town of the Shechemites, and there he pitched his
   tent on a spot which he had purchased. Emor, a Chorraean prince, was
   the ruler of that town. His son Sychem defiled Dinah, the daughter of
   Jacob by Leah. Symeon and Levi, the brothers of Dinah, discovering
   this, cut off by a stratagem all those of the male sex in the town, and
   thus terribly avenged the injury done to their sister. The town was
   plundered by the sons of Jacob, and all the spoil carried off. Jacob is
   said to have been much displeased with these proceedings. Soon after
   being instructed by God, he went to Bethel, and there erected an altar
   to God. Then he fixed his tent in a part of the territory belonging to
   the tower [266] Gader. Rachel died in childbirth: the boy she bore was
   called Benjamin. Israel died at the age of one hundred and eighty
   years. Now, Esau was mighty in wealth, and had taken to himself wives
   of the nation of the Canaanites. I do not think that, in a work so
   concise as the present, I am called upon to mention his descendants,
   and, if any one is curious on the subject, he may turn to the original.
   After the death of his father, Jacob stayed on in the place where Isaac
   had lived. His other sons occasionally left him along with the flocks,
   for the sake of pasturage, but Joseph and the little Benjamin remained
   at home. Joseph was much beloved by his father, and on that account was
   hated by his brethren. There was this further cause for their aversion,
   that by frequent dreams of his it seemed to be indicated that he would
   be greater than all of them. Accordingly, having been sent by his
   father to inspect the flocks and pay a visit to his brothers, there
   seemed to them a fitting opportunity for doing him harm. For, on seeing
   their brother, they took counsel to slay him. But Reuben, whose mind
   shuddered at the contemplation of such a crime, opposing their plan,
   Joseph was let down into a well. [267] Afterwards, by the persuasions
   of Judah, they were brought to milder measures, and sold him to
   merchants, who were on their way to Egypt. And by them he was delivered
   to Petifra, a governor of Pharaoh.
     __________________________________________________________________

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

   [267] "Lacum."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   About this same time, Judah, the son of Jacob, took in marriage Sava,
   [268] a woman of Canaan. By her he had three sons,--Her, Onan, and
   Sela. Her was allied by concubinage [269] to Thamar. On his death, Onan
   took his brother's wife; and he is related to have been destroyed by
   God, because he spilled his seed upon the earth. Then Thamar, assuming
   the garb of a harlot, united with her brother-in-law, and bore him two
   sons. But when she brought them forth, there was this remarkable fact,
   that, when on one of the boys being born, the midwife had bound his
   hand with a scarlet thread to indicate which of them was born first,
   he, drawing back again into the womb of his mother, was born [270] the
   last boy of the two. The names of Fares and Zarah were given to the
   children. But Joseph, being kindly treated by the royal governor who
   had obtained him for a sum of money, and having been made manager of
   his house and family, had drawn the eyes of his master's wife upon
   himself through his remarkable beauty. And as she was madly laboring
   under that base passion, she made advances to him oftener than once,
   and when he would not yield to her desires, she disgraced him by the
   imputation of a false crime, and complained to her husband that he had
   made an attempt upon her virtue. Accordingly, Joseph was thrown into
   prison. There were in the same place of confinement two of the king's
   servants, who made known their dreams to Joseph, and he, interpreting
   these as bearing upon the future, declared that one of them would be
   put to death, and the other would be pardoned. And so it came to pass.
   Well, after the lapse of two years, the king also had a dream. And when
   this could not be explained by the wise men among the Egyptians, that
   servant of the king who was liberated from prison informs the king that
   Joseph was a wonderful interpreter of dreams. Accordingly, Joseph was
   brought out of prison, and interpreted to the king his dream, to this
   effect, that, for the next seven years, there would be the greatest
   fertility in the land; but in those that followed, famine. The king
   being alarmed by this terror, and seeing that there was a divine spirit
   in Joseph, set him over the department of food-supply, and made him
   equal with himself in the government. Then Joseph, while corn was
   abundant throughout all Egypt, gathered together an immense quantity,
   and, by increasing the number of granaries, took measures against the
   future famine. At that time, the hope and safety of Egypt were placed
   in him alone. About the same period, Aseneh bore him two sons, Manasseh
   and Ephraim. He himself, when he received the chief power from the
   king, was thirty years old; for he was sold by his brothers when he was
   seventeen years of age.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [268] Called Shuah in A.V.

   [269] Or perhaps, rather, marriage of a sort, as appears from what
   follows.

   [270] A different reading gives, "was born on the following day."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   In the mean time, affairs having been well settled in Egypt to meet the
   famine, a grievous want of corn began to distress the world. Jacob,
   constrained by this necessity, sent his sons into Egypt, keeping only
   Benjamin with himself at home. Joseph, then, being at the head of
   affairs, and having complete power over the corn-supplies, his brothers
   come to him, and pay the same honor to him as to a king. He, when he
   saw them, craftily concealed his recognition of them, and accused them
   of having come as enemies, subtly to spy out the land. But he was
   annoyed that he did not see among them his brother Benjamin. Matters,
   then, are brought to this point, that they promised he should be
   present, specially that he might be asked whether they had entered
   Egypt for the purpose of spying out the land. In order to secure the
   fulfillment of this promise, Symeon was retained as hostage, while to
   them corn was given freely. Accordingly, they returned, bringing
   Benjamin with them as had been arranged. Then Joseph made himself known
   to his brothers to the shame of these evil-deservers. Thus, he sent
   them home again, laden with corn, and presented with many gifts,
   forewarning them that there were still five years of famine to come,
   and advising them to come down with their father, their children, and
   their whole connections to Egypt. So Jacob went down to Egypt, to the
   great joy of the Egyptians and of the king himself, while he was
   tenderly welcomed by his son. That took place in the hundred and
   thirtieth year of the life of Jacob, and one thousand three hundred and
   sixty years [271] after the deluge. But from the time when Abraham
   settled in the land of the Canaanites, to that when Jacob entered
   Egypt, there are to be reckoned two hundred and fifteen years. After
   this, Jacob, in the seventeenth year of his residence in Egypt,
   suffering severely from illness, entreated Joseph to see his remains
   placed in the tomb. Then Joseph presented his sons to be blessed; [272]
   and when this had been done, but so that he set the younger before the
   elder as to the value of the blessing given, Jacob then blessed all his
   sons in order. He died at the age of one hundred and forty-seven years.
   His funeral was of a most imposing character, and Joseph laid his
   remains in the tomb of his fathers. He continued to treat his brothers
   with kindness, although, after the death of their father, they felt
   alarmed from a consciousness of the wrong they had done. Joseph himself
   died in his one hundred and tenth year.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [271] The chronology of the LXX is, as usual, here followed.

   [272] The original is, "quibus benedictis, cum tamen benedictionis
   merito majori minorem praeposuisset, filios omnes benedictione
   lustravit."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   It is almost incredible to relate how the Hebrews who had come down
   into Egypt so soon increased in numbers, and filled Egypt with their
   numerous descendants. But on the death of the king, who kindly
   cherished them on account of the services of Joseph, they were kept
   down by the government of the succeeding kings. For both the heavy
   labor of building cities was laid upon them, and because their
   abounding numbers were now feared, lest some day they should secure
   their independence by arms, they were compelled by a royal edict to
   drown their newly-born male children. And no permission was granted to
   evade this cruel order. Well, at that time, the daughter of Pharaoh
   found an infant in the river, and caused it to be brought up as her own
   son, giving the boy the name of Moses. This Moses, when he had come to
   manhood, saw a Hebrew being assaulted by an Egyptian; and, filled with
   sorrow at the sight, he delivered his brother from injury, and killed
   the Egyptian with a stone. Soon after, fearing punishment on account of
   what he had done, he fled into the land of Midian, and, taking up his
   abode with Jothor the priest of that district, he received his daughter
   Sepphora in marriage, who bore him two sons, Gersam and Eliezer. At
   this epoch lived Job, who had acquired both the knowledge of God and
   all righteousness simply from the law [273] of nature. He was
   exceedingly rich, and on that account all the more illustrious, because
   he was neither corrupted by that wealth while it remained entire, nor
   perverted by it when it was lost. For, when, through the agency of the
   devil, he was stripped of his goods, deprived of his children, and
   finally covered in his own person with terrible boils, he could not be
   broken down, so as, from impatience of his sufferings, in any way, to
   commit sin. At length he obtained the reward of the divine approval,
   and being restored to health, he got back doubled all that he had lost.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [273] This somewhat remarkable statement is supported by the text of
   Halm, who reads, "lege naturae." But other editions have "legem
   naturae," and the meaning will then be "who had learned the law of
   nature, and the knowledge of God," &c.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   But the Hebrews, oppressed by the multiplied evils of slavery, directed
   their complaints to heaven, and cherished the hope of assistance from
   God. Then, as Moses was feeding his sheep, suddenly a bush appeared to
   him burning, but, what was surprising, the flames did it no harm.
   Astonished at such an extraordinary sight, he drew nearer to the bush,
   and immediately God spoke to him in words to this effect, that he was
   the Lord of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and that he desired that their
   descendants, who were kept down under the tyranny of the Egyptians,
   should be delivered from their sufferings, and that he, therefore,
   should go to the king of Egypt, and present himself as a leader for
   restoring them to liberty. When he hesitated, God strengthened him with
   power, and imparted to him the gift of working miracles. Thus Moses,
   going into Egypt, after he had first performed miracles in the presence
   of his own people, and having associated his brother Aaron with him,
   went to the king, declaring that he had been sent by God, and that he
   now told him in the words of God to let the Hebrew people go. But the
   king, affirming that he did not know the Lord, refused to obey the
   command addressed to him. And when Moses, in proof that the orders he
   issued were from God, changed his rod into a serpent, [274] and soon
   after convened all the water into blood, while he filled the whole land
   with frogs, as the Chaldaeans were doing similar things, the king
   declared that the wonders performed by Moses were simply due to the
   arts of magic, and not to the power of God, until the land was covered
   with stinging insects brought over it, when the Chaldaeans confessed
   that this was done by the divine majesty. Then the king, constrained by
   his sufferings, called to him Moses and Aaron, and gave the people
   liberty to depart, provided that the calamity brought upon the kingdom
   were removed. But, after the suffering was put an end to, his mind,
   having no control over itself returned to its former state, and did not
   allow the Israelites to depart, as had been agreed upon. Finally,
   however, he was broken down and conquered by the ten plagues which were
   sent upon his person and his kingdom.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [274] "Draconem."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   But on the day [275] before the people went out of Egypt, being as yet
   unacquainted with dates, they were instructed by the command of God to
   acknowledge that month which was then passing by as the first of all
   months; and were told that the sacrifice of the day was to be solemnly
   and regularly offered in coming ages, so that, on the fourteenth day of
   the month, a lamb without blemish, one year old, should be slain as a
   victim, and that the door-posts should be sprinkled with its blood;
   that its flesh was wholly to be eaten, but not a bone of it was to be
   broken; that they should abstain from what was leavened for seven days,
   using only unleavened bread; and that they should hand down the
   observance to their posterity. Thus the people went forth rich, both by
   their own wealth, and still more by the spoils of Egypt. Their number
   had grown from those seventy-five [276] Hebrews, who had first gone
   down into Egypt, to six hundred thousand men. Now, there had elapsed
   from the time when Abraham first reached the land of the Canaanites a
   period of four hundred and thirty years, but from the deluge a period
   of five hundred and seventy-five [277] years. Well, as they went forth
   in haste, a pillar of cloud by day, and a pillar of fire by night,
   marched before them. But since, owing to the fact that the gulf of the
   Red Sea lay between, the way led by [278] the land of the Philistines,
   in order that an opportunity might not afterwards be offered to the
   Hebrews, shrinking from the desert, of returning into Egypt by a
   well-known road through a continuous land-journey, by the command of
   God they turned aside, and journeyed towards the Red Sea, where they
   stopped and pitched their camp. When it was announced to the king that
   the Hebrew people, through mistaking the road, had come to have the sea
   right before them, and that they had no means of escape since the deep
   would prevent them, vexed and furious that so many thousand men should
   escape from his kingdom and power, he hastily led forth his army. And
   already the arms, and standards, and the lines drawn up in the
   widespreading plains were visible, when, as the Hebrews were in a state
   of terror, and gazing up to heaven, Moses being so instructed by God,
   struck the sea with his rod, and divided it. Thus a road was opened to
   the people as on firm land, the waters giving way on both sides. Nor
   did the king of Egypt hesitate to follow the Israelites going forward,
   for he entered the sea where it had opened; and, as the waters speedily
   came together again, he, with all his host, was destroyed.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [275] Such is Halm's reading; another is simply "before."

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

   [277] Again after the LXX.

   [278] The text here is uncertain and obscure.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   Then Moses, exulting in the safety of his own people, and in the
   destruction of the enemy, by such a miracle, [279] sang a song of
   praise to God, and the whole multitude, both of males and females, took
   part in it. But, after they had entered the desert, and advanced a
   journey of three days, want of water distressed them; and, when it was
   found, it proved of no use on account of its bitterness. And then for
   the first time the stubbornness of the impatient people showed itself,
   and burst forth against Moses; when, as instructed by God, he cast some
   wood into the waters, and its power was such that it rendered the taste
   of the fluid sweet. Thence advancing, the multitude found at Elim
   twelve fountains of waters, with seventy palm-trees, and there they
   encamped. Again the people, complaining of famine, heaped reproaches
   upon Moses, and longed for the slavery of Egypt, accompanied as it was
   with abundance to please their appetite, when a flock of quails was
   divinely sent, and filled the camp. Besides, on the following day,
   those who had gone forth from the camp perceived that the ground was
   covered with a sort of pods, [280] the appearance of which was like a
   coriander-seed of snowy whiteness, as we often see the earth in the
   winter months covered with the hoar-frost that has been spread over it.
   Then the people were informed, through Moses, that this bread had been
   sent them by the gift of God; that every one should gather in vessels
   prepared for the purpose only so much of it as would be sufficient for
   each, according to their number, during one day; but that on the sixth
   day they should gather double, because it was not lawful to collect it
   on the Sabbath. The people, however, as they were never prone to
   obedience, did not, in accordance with human nature, restrain their
   desires, providing in their stores not merely for one, but also for the
   following day. But that which was thus laid up swarmed with worms,
   while its fetid odor was dreadful, yet that which was laid up on the
   sixth day with a view to the Sabbath remained quite untainted. The
   Hebrews made use of this food for forty years; its taste was very like
   that of honey; and its name is handed down as being manna. Moreover, as
   an abiding witness to the divine gift, Moses is related to have laid up
   a full gomer of it in a golden vessel.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [279] "Virtute."

   [280] This is a somewhat strange description of the manna. Hornius
   remarks upon it that there may be a reference to the dew in which the
   Hebrews believed the manna to have been enveloped, but that seems a
   far-fetched explanation.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   The people going on from thence, and being again tried with want of
   water, hardly restrained themselves from destroying their leader. Then
   Moses, under divine orders, striking with his rod the rock at the place
   which is called Horeb, brought forth an abundant supply of water. But
   when they came to Raphidin, the Amalekites destroyed numbers of the
   people by their attacks. Moses, leading out his men to battle, placed
   Joshua at the head of the army; and, in company with Aaron and Hur, was
   himself simply to be a spectator of the fight, while, at the same time,
   for the purpose of praying to the Lord, he went up to the top of a
   mountain. But when the armies had met with doubtful issue, through the
   prayers of Moses, Joshua slew the enemy until nightfall. At the same
   time, Jothor, Moses' father-in-law, with his daughter Sepphora (who,
   having been married to Moses, had remained at home when her husband
   went into Egypt), and his children, having learned the things which
   were being done by Moses, came to him. By his advice Moses divided the
   people into various ranks; and, setting tribunes, centurions, and
   decurions [281] over them, thus furnished a mode of discipline and
   order to posterity. Jothor then returned to his own country, while the
   Israelites came on to Mount Sinai. There Moses was admonished by the
   Lord that the people should be sanctified, since they were to hearken
   to the words of God; and that was carefully seen to. But when God
   rested on the mountain, the air was shaken with the loud sounds of
   trumpets, and thick clouds rolled around with frequent flashes of
   lightning. But Moses and Aaron were on the top of the mountain beside
   the Lord, while the people stood around the bottom of the mountain.
   Thus a law was given, manifold and full of the words of God, and
   frequently repeated; but if any one is desirous of knowing particulars
   regarding it, he must consult the original, as we here only briefly
   touch upon it. "There shall not be," said God, "any strange gods among
   you, but ye shall worship me alone; thou shalt not make to time any
   idol; thou shalt not take the name of thy God in vain; thou shalt do no
   work upon the Sabbath; honor thy father and thy mother; thou shalt not
   kill; thou shalt not commit adultery; thou shalt not steal; thou shalt
   not bear false witness against thy neighbor; thou shalt not covet
   anything belonging to thy neighbor."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [281] These words denote what is expressed in the Greek, "rulers of
   thousands, of hundreds, and of tens."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   These things being said by God, while the trumpets uttered their
   voices, the lamps blazed, and smoke covered the mountain, the people
   trembled from terror; and begged of Moses that God should speak to him
   alone, and that he would report to the people what he thus heard. Now,
   the commandments of God to Moses were as follows: A Hebrew servant
   purchased with money shall serve six years, and after that he shall be
   free; but his ear shall be bored, should he willingly remain in
   slavery. Whosoever slays a man shall be put to death; he who does so
   unwittingly shall in due form be banished. Whosoever shall beat his
   father or his mother, and utter evil sayings against them, shall suffer
   death. If any one sell a Hebrew who has been stolen, he shall be put to
   death. If any one strike his own man-servant or maidservant, and he or
   she die of the blow, he shall be put on his trial for doing so. If any
   one cause a woman [282] to miscarry, he shall be put to death. If any
   one knock out the eye or the tooth of his servant, that servant shall
   receive his liberty in due form. If a bull kill a man, it shall be
   stoned; and if its master, knowing the vicious temper of the animal,
   did not take precautions in connection with it, he also shall be
   stoned, or shall redeem himself by a price as large as the accuser
   shall demand. If a bull kill a servant, money to the amount of thirty
   double-drachmas shall be paid to his master. If any one does not cover
   up a pit which has been dug, and an animal fall into that pit, he shall
   pay the price of the animal to its master. If a bull kill the bull of
   another man, the animal shall be sold, and the two masters shall share
   the price; they shall also divide the animal that has been killed. But
   if a master, knowing the vicious temper of the bull, did not take
   precautions in connection with it, he shall give up the bull. If any
   one steals a calf, he shall restore five; if he steals a sheep, the
   penalty shall be fourfold; and if the animals be found alive in the
   hands of him who drove them off, he shall restore double. It shall be
   lawful to kill a thief by night, but not one by day. If the cattle of
   any one has eaten up the corn of another, the master of the cattle
   shall restore what has been destroyed. If a deposit disappears, he, in
   whose hands it was deposited, shall swear that he has not been guilty
   of any deceit. A thief who is caught shall pay double. An animal given
   in trust, if devoured by a wild beast, shall not be made good. If any
   one defile a virgin not yet betrothed, he shall bestow a dowry on the
   girl, and thus take her to wife; but, if the father of the girl shall
   refuse to give her in marriage, then the ravisher shall give her a
   dowry. If any one shall join himself to a beast, he shall be put to
   death. Let him who sacrifices to idols perish. The widow and orphan are
   not to be oppressed; the poor debtor is not to be hardly treated, nor
   is usury to be demanded: the garment of the poor is not to be taken as
   a pledge. A ruler of the people is not to be evil spoken of. All the
   first-born are to be offered to God. Flesh taken from a wild beast is
   not to be eaten. Agreements to bear false witness, or for any evil
   purpose, are not to be made. Thou shalt not pass by any animal of thine
   enemy which has strayed, but shalt bring it back. If you find an animal
   of your enemy fallen down under a burden, it will be your duty to raise
   it up. Thou shalt not slay the innocent and the righteous. Thou shalt
   not justify the wicked for rewards. Gifts are not to be accepted. A
   stranger is to be kindly treated. Work is to be done on six days: rest
   is to be taken on the Sabbath. The crops of the seventh year are not to
   be reaped, but are to be left for the poor and needy.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [282] Some words seem to have been lost here.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   Moses reported these words of God to the people, and placed an altar of
   twelve stones at the foot of the mountain. Then he again ascended the
   mountain on which the Lord had taken his place, bringing with him
   Aaron, Nabad, and seventy of the elders. But these were not able to
   look upon the Lord; nevertheless, they saw the place [283] in which God
   stood, whose form is related to have been wonderful, and his splendor
   glorious. Now, Moses, having been called by God, entered the inner
   cloud which had gathered round about God, and is related to have
   remained there forty days and forty nights. During this time, he was
   taught in the words of God about building the tabernacle and the ark,
   and about the ritual of sacrifice-things which I, as they were
   obviously told at great length, have not thought proper to be inserted
   in such a concise work as the present. But as Moses stayed away a long
   time, since he spent forty days in the presence of the Lord, the
   people, despairing of his return, compelled Aaron to construct images.
   Then, out of metals which had been melted together, there came forth
   the head of a calf. The people, unmindful of God, having offered
   sacrifices to this, and given themselves up to eating and drinking,
   God, looking upon these things, would in his righteous indignation,
   have destroyed the wicked people, had he not been entreated by Moses'
   not to do so. But Moses, on his return, bringing down the two tables of
   stone which had been written by the hand of God, and seeing the people
   devoted to luxury and sacrilege, broke the tables, thinking the nation
   unworthy of having the law of the Lord delivered to them. He then
   called around himself the Levites, who had been assailed with many
   insults, and commanded them to smite the people with drawn swords. In
   this onset twenty-three thousand [284] men are said to have been slain.
   Then Moses set up the tabernacle outside the camp; and, as often as he
   entered it, the pillar of cloud was observed to stand before the door;
   and God spoke, face to face, with Moses. But when Moses entreated that
   he might see the Lord in his peculiar majesty, he was answered that the
   form of God could not be seen by mortal eyes; yet it was allowed to see
   his back parts; and the tables which Moses had formerly broken were
   constructed afresh. And Moses is reported, during this conference with
   God, to have stayed forty days with the Lord. Moreover, when he
   descended from the mountain, bringing with him the tables, his face
   shone with so great brightness, that the people were not able to look
   upon him. It was arranged, therefore, that when he was to make known to
   them the commands of God, he covered his face with a veil, and thus
   spoke to the people in the words of God. In this part of the history an
   account is given [285] of the tabernacle, and the building of its inner
   parts. Which having been finished, the cloud descended from above, and
   so overshadowed the tabernacle that it prevented Moses himself from
   entering. These are the principal matters contained in the two books of
   Genesis and Exodus.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [283] The Hebrew text is here different.

   [284] Curiously enough, our author here reads, "twenty-three thousand,"
   in opposition alike to the Greek and Hebrew text, both of which have
   "three thousand."

   [285] Halm here reads "referetur," but "refertur," another reading,
   seems preferable.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   Then follows the book of Leviticus, in which the precepts bearing upon
   sacrifice are set forth; commandments also are added to the law
   formerly given; and almost the whole is full of instructions connected
   with the priests. If any one wishes to become acquainted with these, he
   will obtain fuller information from that source. For we, keeping within
   the limits of the work undertaken, touch upon the history only. The
   tribe of Levi, then, being set apart for the priesthood, the rest of
   the tribes were numbered, and were found to amount to six hundred and
   three thousand five hundred persons. [286] When, therefore, the people
   made use of the manna for food, as we have related above, even amid so
   many and so great kindnesses of God, showing themselves, as ever,
   ungrateful, they longed after the worthless viands to which they had
   been accustomed in Egypt. Then the Lord brought an enormous supply of
   quails into the camp; and as they were eagerly tearing these to pieces,
   as soon as their lips touched the flesh, they perished. There was
   indeed on that day a great destruction in the camp, so that twenty and
   three thousand men are said to have died. Thus the people were punished
   by the very food which they desired. Thence the company went forward,
   and came to Faran; and Moses was instructed by the Lord that the land
   was now near, the possession of which the Lord had promised them.
   Spies, accordingly, having been sent into it, they report that it was a
   land blessed with all abundance, but that the nations were powerful,
   and the towns fortified with immense walls. When this was made known to
   the people, fear seized the minds of all; and to such a pitch of
   wickedness did they come, that, despising the authority of Moses, they
   prepared to appoint for themselves a leader, under whose guidance they
   might return to Egypt. Then Joshua and Caleb, who had been of the
   number of the spies, rent their garments with tears, and implored the
   people not to believe the spies relating such terrors; for that they
   themselves had been with them, and had found nothing dreadful in that
   country; and that it behooved them to trust the promises of God, that
   these enemies would rather become their prey than prove their
   destruction. But that stiff-necked race, setting themselves against
   every good advice, rushed upon them to destroy them. And the Lord,
   angry on account of these things, exposed a part of the people to be
   slain by the enemy, while the spies were slain for having excited fear
   among the people.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [286] The text here varies: we have followed Halm.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   There followed the revolt of those, who, with Dathan and Abiron as
   leaders, endeavored to set themselves up against Moses and Aaron; but
   the earth, opening, swallowed them alive. And not long after, a revolt
   of the whole people arose against Moses and Aaron, so that they rushed
   into the tabernacle, which it was not lawful for any but the priests to
   enter. Then truly death mowed them down in heaps; and all would have
   perished in a moment, had not the Lord, appeased by the prayers of
   Moses, turned aside the disaster. Nevertheless, the number of those
   slain amounted to seven hundred and fourteen thousand. [287] And not
   long after, as had already often happened, a revolt of the people arose
   on account of the want of water. Then Moses, instructed by God to
   strike the rock with his rod, with a kind of trial new familiar to him,
   since he had already done that before, struck the rock once and again,
   and thus water flowed out of it. In regard, however, to this point,
   Moses is said to have been reproved by God, that, through want of
   faith, he did not bring out the water except by repeated blows; in
   fact, on account of this transgression, he did not enter the land
   promised to him, as I shall show farther on. Moses, then, moving away
   from that place, as he was preparing to lead his company along by the
   borders of Edom, sent ambassadors to the king to beg liberty to pass
   by; for he thought it right to abstain from war on account of the
   connection by blood; for that nation was descended from Esau. But the
   king despised the suppliants, and refused them liberty to pass by,
   being ready to contend in arms. Then Moses directed his march towards
   the mountain, Or, keeping clear of the forbidden road, that he might
   not furnish any cause of war between those related by blood, and on
   that route he destroyed the king of the nation of the Canaanites. He
   smote also Seon the king of the Amorites, and possessed himself of all
   their towns: he conquered, too, Basan and Balac. He pitched his camp
   beyond Jordan, not far from Jericho. Then a battle took place against
   the Midianites, and they were conquered and subdued. Moses died, after
   he had ruled the people forty years in the wilderness. But the Hebrews
   are said to have remained in the wilderness for so long a time, with
   this view, until all those who had not believed the words of God
   perished. For, except Joshua and Caleb, not one of those who were more
   than twenty years old on leaving Egypt passed over Jordan. That Moses
   himself only saw the promised land, and did not reach it, is ascribed
   to his sin, because, at that time when he was ordered to strike the
   rock, and bring forth water, he doubted, even after so many proofs of
   his miraculous power. He died in the one hundred and twentieth year of
   his age. Nothing is known concerning the place of his burial.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [287] "septingenti et xiiii milia."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   After the death of Moses, the chief power passed into the hands of
   Joshua the son of Nun, for Moses had appointed him his successor, being
   a man very like himself in the good qualities which he displayed. Now,
   at the commencement of his rule, he sent messengers through the camp to
   instruct the people to make ready supplies of corn, and announces that
   they should march on the third day. But the river Jordan, a very
   powerful stream, hindered their crossing, because they did not have a
   supply of vessels for the occasion, and the stream could not be crossed
   by fords, as it was then rushing on in full flood. He, therefore,
   orders the ark to be carried forward by the priests, and that they
   should take their stand against the current of the river. On this being
   done, Jordan is said to have been divided, and thus the army was led
   over on dry ground. There was in these places a town called Jericho,
   fortified with very strong walls, and not easy to be taken, either by
   storm or blockade. But Joshua, putting his trust in God, did not attack
   the city either by arms or force; he simply ordered the ark of God to
   be carried round the walls, while the priests walked before the ark,
   and sounded trumpets. But when the ark had been carried round seven
   times, the walls and the towers fell; and the city was plundered and
   burnt. Then Joshua is said to have addressed the Lord, and [288] to
   have called down a curse upon any one who should attempt to restore the
   town which had thus by divine help been demolished. Next, the army was
   led against Geth, and an ambuscade having been placed behind the city,
   Joshua, pretending fear, fled before the enemy. On seeing this, those
   who were in the town, opening the gates, began to press upon the enemy
   giving way. Thus, the men who were in ambush took the city, and all the
   inhabitants were slain, without one escaping: the king also was taken,
   and suffered capital punishment.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [288] Some words have here been lost, but are conjecturally supplied in
   the text.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIII.

   When this became known to the kings of the neighboring nations, they
   made a warlike alliance to put down the Hebrews by arms. But the
   Gibeonites, a powerful nation with a wealthy city, spontaneously
   yielded to the Hebrews, promising to do what they were ordered, and
   were received under protection, while they were told to bring in wood
   and water. But their surrender had roused the resentment of the kings
   of the nearest cities. Accordingly, moving up their troops, they
   surround with a blockade their town, which was called Gabaoth. The
   townspeople, therefore, in their distress, send messengers to Joshua,
   that he would help them in their state of siege. Accordingly, he by a
   forced march came upon the enemy at unawares, and many thousands of
   them were completely destroyed. When day failed the victors, and it
   seemed that night would furnish protection to the vanquished, the
   Hebrew general, through the power of his faith, kept off the night, and
   the day continued, so that there was no means of escape for the enemy.
   Five kings who were taken suffered death. By the same attack,
   neighboring cities also were brought under the power of Joshua, and
   their kings were cut off. But as it was not my design, studious as I am
   of brevity, to follow out all these things in order, I only carefully
   observe this, that twenty-nine kingdoms were brought under the yoke of
   the Hebrews, and that their territory was distributed among eleven
   tribes, to man after man. For to the Levites, who had been set apart
   for the priesthood, no portion was given, in order that they might the
   more freely serve God. I desire not, in silence, to pass over the
   example thus set, but I would earnestly bring it forward as well worthy
   of being read by the ministers of the Church. For these seem to me not
   only unmindful of this precept, but even utterly ignorant of it--such a
   lust for possessing has, in this age, seized, like an incurable
   disease, upon their minds. They gape upon possessions; they cultivate
   estates; they repose upon gold; they buy and sell; they study gain by
   every possible means. And even, if any of them seem to have a better
   aim in life, neither possessing nor trading, still (what is much more
   disgraceful) remaining inactive, they look for gifts, and have
   corrupted the whole glory of life by their mercenary dispositions,
   while they present an appearance of sanctity, as if even that might be
   made a source of gain. But I have gone farther than I intended in
   expressing my loathing and disgust over the character of our times; and
   I hasten to return to the subject in hand. The vanquished territory,
   then, as I have already said, having been divided among the tribes, the
   Hebrews enjoyed profound peace; their neighbors, being terrified by
   war, did not venture to attempt hostilities against those distinguished
   by so many victories. At the same period died Joshua in the hundred and
   tenth year of his age. I do not express any definite opinion as to the
   length of time he ruled: the prevalent view, however, is, that he was
   at the head of the Hebrew affairs during twenty-seven years. If this
   were so, then three thousand eight hundred and eighty-four years had
   elapsed from the beginning of the world to his death.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIV.

   After the death of Joshua, the people acted without a leader. But a
   necessity of making war with the Canaanites having arisen, Judah was
   appointed as general in the war. Under his guidance, matters were
   successfully conducted: there was the greatest tranquillity both at
   home and abroad: the people ruled over the nations which had either
   been subdued or received under terms of surrender. Then, as almost
   always happens in a time of prosperity, becoming unmindful of morals
   and discipline, they began to contract marriages from among the
   conquered, and by and by to adopt foreign customs, yea, even in a
   sacrilegious manner to offer sacrifice to idols:  so pernicious is all
   alliance with foreigners. God, foreseeing these things long before,
   had, by a wholesome precept enjoined upon the Hebrews to give over the
   conquered nations to utter destruction. But the people, through lust
   for power, preferred (to their own ruin) to rule over those who were
   conquered. Accordingly, when, forsaking God, they worshiped idols, they
   were deprived of the divine assistance, and, being vanquished and
   subdued by the king of Mesopotamia, they paid the penalty of eight
   years' captivity, until, with Gothoniel as their leader, they were
   restored to liberty, and enjoyed independence for fifty years. Then
   again, corrupted by the evil effect of a lengthened peace, they began
   to sacrifice to idols. And speedily did retribution fall upon them thus
   sinning. Conquered by Eglon, king of the Moabites, they served him
   eighteen years, until, by a divine impulse, Aod slew the enemies' king
   by a stratagem, and, gathering together a hasty army, restored them to
   liberty by force of arms. The same man ruled the Hebrews in peace for
   forty years. To him Semigar succeeded, and he, engaging in battle with
   the Philistines, [289] secured a decisive victory. But again, the king
   of the Canaanites, Jabin by name, subdued the Hebrews who were once
   more serving idols, and exercised over them a grievous tyranny for
   twenty years, until Deborah, a woman, restored them to their former
   condition. They had to such a degree lost confidence in their generals,
   that they were now protected by means of a woman. But it is worthy of
   notice, that this form of deliverance was arranged beforehand, as a
   type of the Church, by whose aid captivity to the devil is escaped. The
   Hebrews were forty years under this leader or judge. And being again
   delivered over to the Midianites for their sins, they were kept under
   hard rule; and, being afflicted by the evils of slavery, they implored
   the divine help. Thus always when in prosperity they were unmindful of
   the kindnesses of heaven, and prayed to idols; but in adversity they
   cried to God. Wherefore, as often as I reflect that those people who
   lay under so many obligations to the goodness of God, being chastised
   with so many disasters when they sinned, and experiencing both the
   mercy and the severity of God, yet were by no means rendered better,
   and that, though they always obtained pardon for their transgressions,
   yet they as constantly sinned again after being pardoned, it can appear
   nothing wonderful that Christ when he came was not received by them,
   since already, from the beginning, they were found so often rebelling
   against the Lord. It is, in fact, far more wonderful that the clemency
   of God never failed them when they sinned, if only they called upon his
   name. [290]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [289] "Allophylos": lit. strangers.

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

    Chapter XXV.

   Accordingly, when the Midianites, as we have related above, ruled over
   them, they turned to the Lord, imploring his wonted tender mercy, and
   obtained it. There was then among the Hebrews one Gideon by name, a
   righteous man who was dear and acceptable to God. The angel stood by
   him as he was returning home from the harvest-field, and said unto him,
   "The Lord is with thee, thou mighty man of valor." But he in a humble
   voice complained that the Lord was not [291] with him, because
   captivity pressed sore upon his people, and he remembered with tears
   the miracles wrought by the Lord, who had brought them out of the land
   of Egypt. Then the angel said, "Go, in this spirit in which you have
   spoken, and deliver the people from captivity." But he declared that he
   could not, with his [292] feeble strength, since he was a man of very
   small importance, undertake such a heavy task. The angel, however,
   persisted in urging him not to doubt that those things could be done
   which the Lord said. So then, having offered sacrifice, and overthrown
   the altar which the Midianites had consecrated to the image of Baal, he
   went to his own people, and pitched his camp near the camp of the
   enemy. But the nation of the Amalekites had also joined themselves to
   the Midianites, while Gideon had not gathered more than an army of
   thirty-two thousand men. But before the battle began, God said to him
   that this was a larger number than he wished him to lead forth to the
   conflict; that, if he did make use of so many, the Hebrews would, in
   accordance with their usual wickedness ascribe the result of the fight,
   not to God, but to their own bravery; he should therefore furnish an
   opportunity of leaving to those who desired to do so. When this was
   made known to the people, twenty and two thousand left the camp. But of
   the ten thousand who had remained, Gideon, as instructed by God, did
   not retain more than three hundred: the rest he dismissed from the
   field. Thus, entering the camp of the enemy in the middle watch of the
   night, and having ordered all his men to sound their trumpets, he
   caused great terror to the enemy; and no one had courage to resist; but
   they made off in a disgraceful flight wherever they could. The Hebrews,
   however, meeting them in every direction, cut the fugitives to pieces.
   Gideon pursued the kings beyond Jordan, and having captured them, gave
   them over to death. In that battle, a hundred and twenty thousand of
   the enemy are said to have been slain, and fifteen thousand captured.
   Then, by universal consent, a proposal was made to Gideon that he
   should be king of the people. But he rejected this proposal, and
   preferred rather to live on equal terms with his fellow-citizens than
   to be their ruler. Having, therefore, escaped from their captivity,
   which had pressed upon the people for seven years, they now enjoyed
   peace for a period of forty years.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [291] "Non esse in se."

   [292] "Infractis viribus": Vorstius well remarks that "infractis" is
   here used with the sense of the simple "fractis."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVI.

   But on the death of Gideon, his son Abimelech, whose mother was a
   concubine, having slain his brothers with the concurrence of a
   multitude of wicked men, and especially by the help of the chief men
   among the Shechemites, took possession of the kingdom. And he, being
   harassed by civil strife, while he pressed hard upon his people by war,
   attempted to storm a certain tower, into which they, after losing the
   town, had betaken themselves by flight. But, as he approached the place
   without sufficient caution, he was slain by a stone which a woman
   threw, after holding the government for three years. To him succeeded
   Thola, who reigned two and twenty years. After him came Jair; and after
   he had held the chief place for a like period of twenty-two years, the
   people, forsaking God, gave themselves up to idols. On this account,
   the Israelites were subdued by the Philistines and Ammonites, and
   remained under their power for eighteen years. At the end of this
   period, they began to call upon God; but the divine answer to them was
   that they should rather invoke the aid of their images, for that he
   would no longer extend his mercy to those who had been so ungrateful.
   But they with tears confessed their fault, and implored forgiveness;
   while, throwing away their idols, and earnestly calling upon God, they
   obtained the divine compassion, though it had been at first refused.
   Accordingly, under Jephtha as general, they assembled in great numbers
   for the purpose of recovering their liberty by arms, having first sent
   ambassadors to King Ammon, begging that, content with his own
   territories, he should keep from warring against them.  But he, far
   from declining battle, at once drew up his army. Then Jephtha, before
   the signal for battle was given, is said to have vowed that, if he
   obtained the victory, the person who first met him as he returned home,
   should be offered to God as a sacrifice. Accordingly, on the enemy
   being defeated, as Jephtha was returning home, his daughter met him,
   having joyfully gone forth with drums and dances to receive her father
   as a conqueror. Then Jephtha, being overwhelmed with sorrow, rent his
   clothes in his affliction, and made known to his daughter the stringent
   obligation of his vow. But she, with a courage not to be expected from
   a woman, did not refuse to die; she only begged that her life might be
   spared for two months, that she might before dying have the opportunity
   of seeing the friends of her own age. This being done, she willingly
   returned to her father, and fulfilled the vow to God. Jephtha held the
   chief power for six years. To him Esebon succeeded, and having ruled in
   tranquillity for seven years, then died. After him, Elon the Zebulonite
   ruled for ten years, and Abdon also for eight years; but, as their rule
   was peaceful, they performed nothing which history might record.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVII.

   The Israelites yet again turned to idols; and, being deprived of the
   divine protection, were subdued by the Philistines, and paid the
   penalty of their unfaithfulness by forty years of captivity. At that
   time, Samson is related to have been born. His mother, after being long
   barren, had a vision of an angel, and was told to abstain from wine,
   and strong drink, and everything unclean; for that she should bear a
   son who would be the restorer of liberty to the Israelites, and their
   avenger upon their enemies. He, with unshorn locks, is said to have
   been possessed of marvelous strength, so much so that he tore to pieces
   with his hands a lion which met him in the way. He had a wife from the
   Philistines, and when she, in the absence of her husband, had entered
   into marriage with another, he, through indignation on account of his
   wife being thus taken from him, wrought destruction to her nation.
   Trusting in God and his own strength, he openly brought disaster on
   those hitherto victors. For, catching three hundred foxes, he tied
   burning torches to their tails, and sent them into the fields of the
   enemy. It so happened that at the time the harvest was ripe, and thus
   the fire easily caught, while the vines and olive-trees were burnt to
   ashes. He was thus seen to have avenged the injury done him in taking
   away his wife, by a great loss inflicted on the Philistines. And they,
   enraged at this disaster, destroyed by fire the woman who had been the
   cause of so great a calamity, along with her house and her father. But
   Samson, thinking himself as yet but poorly avenged, ceased not to
   harass the heathen race with all sorts of evil devices. Then the Jews,
   being compelled to it, handed him over as a prisoner to the
   Philistines; but, when thus handed over, he burst his bonds and seizing
   the jaw-bone [293] of an ass, which chance offered him as a weapon, he
   slew a thousand of his enemies. And, as the heat of the day grew
   violent, and he began to suffer from thirst, he called upon God, and
   water flowed forth from [294] the bone which he held in his hand.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [293] Simply "osse asini" in text.

   [294] This is clearly the meaning, and Halm's punctuation, "invocato
   Deo ex osse, quod manu tenebat, aqua fluxit," is obviously wrong.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVIII.

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

    Chapter XXIX.

   About these times, civil war, as we have said, had broken out; and the
   following was the cause of the tumult. A certain Levite was on a
   journey along with his concubine, and, constrained by the approach of
   night, he took up his abode in the town of Gabaa, which was inhabited
   by men of Benjamin. A certain old man having kindly admitted him to
   hospitality, the young men of the town surrounded the guest, with the
   view of subjecting him to improper treatment. After being much chidden
   by the old man, and with difficulty dissuaded from their purpose, they
   at length received for their wanton sport the person of his concubine
   as a substitute for his own; and they thus spared the stranger, but
   abused her through the whole night, and only restored her on the
   following day. But she (whether from the injury their vile conduct had
   inflicted on her, or from shame, I do not venture to assert) died on
   again seeing [295] her husband. Then the Levite, in testimony of the
   horrible deed, divided her members into twelve parts, and distributed
   them among the twelve tribes that indignation at such conduct might the
   more readily be excited in them all. And when this became known to all
   of them, the other eleven tribes entered into a warlike confederacy
   against Benjamin. In this war, Judah, as we have said, was the general.
   But they had bad success in the first two battles. At length, however,
   in the third, the Benjamites were conquered, and cut off to a man; thus
   the crime of a few was punished by the destruction of a multitude.
   These things also are contained in the Book of Judges: the Books of
   Kings follow. But to me who am following the succession of the years,
   and the order of the dates, the history does not appear marked by
   strict chronological accuracy. For, since after Samson as judge, there
   came Semigar, and a little later the history certifies that the people
   lived without judges, Eli the priest is related in the Books of Kings
   to have also been a judge, [296] but the Scripture has not stated how
   many years there were between Eli and Samson. I see that there was some
   portion of time between these two, which is left in obscurity. But,
   from the day of the death of Joshua up to the time at which Samson
   died, there are reckoned four hundred and eighteen years, and from the
   beginning of the world, four thousand three hundred and three.
   Nevertheless, I am not ignorant that others differ from this reckoning
   of ours; but I am at the same time conscious that I have, not without
   some care, set forth the order of events in the successive years (a
   thing hitherto left in obscurity), until I have fallen upon these
   times, concerning which I confess that I have my doubts. Now I shall go
   on to what remains.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [295] A clear mistake of memory in our author. The whole narrative is
   confused.

   [296] The meaning here is doubtful.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXX.

   The Hebrews, then, as I have narrated above, were living according to
   their own will, without any judge or general. Eli was priest; and in
   his days Samuel was born. His father's name was Elchana, and his
   mother's, Anna. She having long been barren, is said, when she asked a
   child from God, to have vowed that, if it were a boy, it should be
   dedicated to God. Accordingly, having brought forth a boy, she
   delivered him to Eli the priest. By and by, when he had grown up, God
   spoke to him. He denounced wrath against Eli the priest on account of
   the life of his sons, who had made the priesthood of their father a
   means of gain to themselves, and exacted gifts from those who came to
   sacrifice; and, although their father is related to have often reproved
   them, yet his reproofs were too gentle to serve the purpose of
   discipline. Well, the Philistines made an incursion into Judaea, and
   were met by the Israelites. But the Hebrews, being beaten, prepare to
   renew the contest: they carry the ark of the Lord with them into
   battle, and the sons of the priests go forth with it, because he
   himself, being burdened with years, and afflicted with blindness, could
   not discharge that duty. But, when the ark was brought within sight of
   the enemy, terrified as if by the majesty of God's presence, they were
   ready to take to flight. But again recovering courage, and changing
   their minds (not without a divine impulse), they rush into battle with
   their whole strength. The Hebrews were conquered; the ark was taken;
   the sons of the priest fell. Eli, when the news of the calamity was
   brought to him, being overwhelmed with grief, breathed his last, after
   he had held the priesthood for twenty [297] years.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [297] The Hebrew text has forty years.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXI.

   The Philistines, victorious in this prosperous battle, brought the ark
   of God, which had fallen into their hands, into the temple of Dagon in
   the town of Azotus. But the image, dedicated to a demon, fell down when
   the ark was brought in there; and, on their setting the idol up again
   in its place, in the following night it was torn in pieces. Then mice,
   springing up throughout all the country, caused by their venomous bites
   the death of many thousand persons. [298] The men of Azotus,
   constrained by this source of suffering, in order to escape the
   calamity, removed the ark to Gath. But the people there being afflicted
   with the same evils, conveyed the ark to Ascalon. The inhabitants,
   however, of that place, the chief men of the nation having been called
   together, formed the design of sending back the ark to the Hebrews.
   Thus, in accordance with the opinion of the chiefs, and augurs, and
   priests, it was placed upon a cart, and sent back with many gifts. This
   remarkable thing then happened, that when they had yoked heifers to the
   conveyance, and had retained their calves at home, these cattle took
   their course, without any guide, towards Judaea, and showed no desire
   of returning, from affection toward their young left behind. The rulers
   of the Philistines, who had followed the ark into the territory of the
   Hebrews, were so struck by the marvelousness of this occurrence that
   they performed a religious service. But the Jews, when they saw the ark
   brought back, vied with each other in joyously rushing forth from the
   town of Betsamis to meet it, and in hurrying, exulting, and returning
   thanks to God. Presently, the Levites, whose business it was, perform a
   sacrifice to God, and offer those heifers which had brought the ark.
   But the ark could not be kept in the town which I have named above, and
   thus severe illness fell by the appointment of God, upon the whole
   city. The ark was then transferred to the town of Cariathiarim, [299]
   and there it remained twenty years.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [298] No reference to this occurs in the Hebrew text, but it is found
   in the Greek, and is also noticed by Josephus. See the LXX. 1 Sam. v.
   6, and Josephus, Antiq. vi. 1.

   [299] Called Kirjath-jearim in the English version.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXII.

   At this time, Samuel the priest [300] ruled over the Hebrews; and there
   being a cessation of all war, the people lived in peace. But this
   tranquillity was disturbed by an invasion of the Philistines, and all
   ranks were in a state of terror from their consciousness of guilt.
   Samuel, having first offered sacrifice, and trusting in God, led his
   men out to battle, and the enemy being routed at the first onset,
   victory declared for the Hebrews. But when the fear of the enemy was
   thus removed, and affairs were now prosperous and peaceful, the people,
   changing their views for the worse, after the manner of the mob, who
   are always weary of what they have, and long for things of which they
   have had no experience, expressed a desire for the kingly name--a name
   greatly disliked by almost all free nations. Yes, with an example of
   madness certainly very remarkable, they now preferred to exchange
   liberty for slavery. They, therefore, come in great numbers to Samuel,
   in order that, as he himself was now an old man, he might make for them
   a king. But he endeavored in a useful address, quietly to deter the
   people from their insane desire; he set forth the tyranny and haughty
   rule of kings, while he extolled liberty, and denounced slavery;
   finally, he threatened them with the divine wrath, if they should show
   themselves men so corrupt in mind as that, when having God as their
   king, they should demand for themselves a king from among men. Having
   spoken these and other words of a like nature to no purpose, finding
   that the people persisted in the determination, he consulted God. And
   God, moved by the madness of that insane nation, replied that nothing
   was to be refused to them asking against their own interests.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [300] Samuel was a Levite, but not a priest.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXIII.

   Accordingly, Saul, having been first anointed by Samuel with the
   sacerdotal oil, was appointed king. He was of the tribe of Benjamin,
   and his father's name was Kish. He was modest in mind, and of a
   singularly handsome figure, so that the dignity of his person worthily
   corresponded to the royal dignity. But in the beginning of his reign,
   some portion of the people had revolted from him, refusing to
   acknowledge his authority, and had joined themselves to the Ammonites.
   Saul, however, energetically wreaked his vengeance on these people; the
   enemy were conquered, and pardon was granted to the Hebrews. Then Saul
   is said to have been anointed by Samuel a second time. Next, a bloody
   war arose by an invasion of the Philistines; and Saul had appointed
   Gilgal as the place where his army was to assemble. As they waited
   there seven days for Samuel, that he might offer sacrifice to God, the
   people gradually dropped away owing to his delay, and the king, with
   unlawful presumption, presented a burnt-offering, thus taking upon him
   the duty of a priest. For this he was severely rebuked by Samuel, and
   acknowledged his sin with a penitence that was too late. For, as a
   result of the king's sin, fear had pervaded the whole army. The camp of
   the enemy lying at no great distance showed them how actual the danger
   was, and no one had the courage to think of going forth to battle: most
   had be-taken themselves to the marshes. [301] For besides the want of
   courage on the part of those who felt that God was alienated from them
   on account of the king's sin, the army was in the greatest want of iron
   weapons; so much so that nobody, except Saul and Jonathan his son, is
   said to have possessed either sword or spear. For the Philistines, as
   conquerors in the former wars, had deprived the Hebrews of the use of
   arms, [302] and no one had had the power of forging any weapon of war,
   or even making any implement for rural purposes. In these
   circumstances, Jonathan, with an audacious design, and with his
   armor-bearer as his only companion, entered the camp of the enemy, and
   having slain about twenty of them, spread a terror throughout the whole
   army. And then, through the appointment of God, betaking themselves to
   flight, they neither carried out orders nor kept their ranks, but
   placed all the hope of safety in flight. Saul, perceiving this, hastily
   drew forth his men, and pursuing the fugitives, obtained a victory. The
   king is said on that day to have issued a proclamation that no one
   should help himself to food until the enemy were destroyed. But
   Jonathan, knowing nothing of this prohibition, found a honey-comb, and,
   dipping the point of his weapon in it, ate up the honey. When that
   became known to the king through the anger of God which followed, he
   ordered his son to be put to death. But by the help of the people, he
   was saved from destruction. At that time, Samuel, being instructed by
   God, went to the king, and told him in the words of God to make war on
   the nation of the Amalekites, who had of old hindered the Hebrews when
   they were coming out of Egypt; and the prohibition was added that they
   should not covet any of the spoils of the conquered. Accordingly, an
   army was led into the territory of the enemy, the king was taken, and
   the nation subdued. But Saul, unable to resist the magnitude of the
   spoil, and unmindful of the divine injunctions, ordered the booty to be
   saved and gathered together.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [301] The text here is very uncertain; we have followed the reading of
   Halm, "lamas," but others have "lacrimas" or "latebras."

   [302] "Armorum" is here supplied, but some prefer "cotis," according to
   1 Sam. xiii. 20.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXIV.

   God, displeased with what had been done, spoke to Samuel, saying that
   he repented that he had made Saul king. The priest reports what he had
   heard to the king. And ere long, being instructed by God, he anointed
   David with the royal oil, while he was as yet only a little boy [303]
   living under the care of his father, and acting as a shepherd, while he
   was accustomed often to play upon the harp. For this reason, he was
   taken afterwards by Saul, and reckoned among the servants of the king.
   And the Philistines and Hebrews being at this time hotly engaged in
   war, as the armies were stationed opposite to each other, a certain man
   of the Philistines named Goliath, a man of marvelous size and strength,
   passing along the ranks of his countrymen, cast insults, in the
   fiercest terms, upon the enemy, and challenged any one to engage in
   single combat with him. Then the king promised a great reward and his
   daughter in marriage to any one who should bring home the spoils of
   that boaster; but no one out of so great a multitude ventured to make
   the attempt. In these circumstances, though still a youth, [304] David
   offered himself for the contest, and rejecting the arms by which his
   yet tender age was weighed down, simply with a staff and five stones
   which he had taken, advanced to the battle. And by the first blow,
   having discharged one of the stones from a sling, he overthrew the
   Philistine; then he cut off the head of his conquered foe, carried off
   his spoils, and afterwards laid up his sword in the temple. In the
   meanwhile, all the Philistines, turning to flight, yielded the victory
   to the Hebrews. But the great favor shown to David as they were
   returning from the battle excited the envy of the king. Fearing,
   however, that if he put to death one so beloved by all, that might give
   rise to hatred against himself and prove disastrous, he resolved, under
   an appearance of doing him honor, to expose him to danger. First then
   he made him a captain, that he might be charged with the affairs of
   war; and next, although he had promised him his daughter, he broke his
   word, and gave her to another. Ere long, a younger daughter of the
   king, Melchol by name, fell violently in love with David. Accordingly,
   Saul sets before David as the condition of obtaining her in marriage
   the following proposal: that if he should bring in a hundred foreskins
   of the enemy, the royal maiden would be given him in marriage; for he
   hoped that the youth, venturing on so great dangers, would probably
   perish. But the result proved very different from what he imagined, for
   David, according to the proposal made to him, speedily brought in a
   hundred foreskins of the Philistines; and thus he obtained the daughter
   of the king in marriage.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [303] This is a mistake: David was undoubtedly then a grown-up young
   man.

   [304] "Puer": another mistake.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXV.

   The hatred of the king towards him increased daily, under the influence
   of jealousy, for the wicked always persecute the good. He, therefore,
   commanded his servants and Jonathan his son, to prepare snares against
   his life. But Jonathan had even from the first had a great regard and
   affection for David; and therefore the king, being taken to task by his
   son, suppressed the cruel order he had given. But the wicked are not
   long good. For, when Saul was afflicted by a spirit of error, and David
   stood by him, soothing him with the harp under his trouble, Saul tried
   to pierce him with a spear, and would have done so, had not he rapidly
   evaded the deadly blow. From this time forth, the king no longer
   secretly but openly sought to compass his death; and David no longer
   trusted himself in his power. He fled, and first betook himself to
   Samuel, then to Abimelech, and finally fled to the king of Moab.
   By-and-by, under the instructions of the prophet Gad, he returned into
   the land of Judah, and there ran in danger of his life. At that time,
   Saul slew Abimelech the priest because he had received David; and when
   none of the king's servants ventured to lay hands upon the priest,
   Doeg, the Syrian, fulfilled the cruel duty. After that, David made for
   the desert. Thither Saul also followed him, but his efforts at his
   destruction were in vain, for God protected him. There was a cave in
   the desert, opening with a vast recess. David had thrown himself into
   the inner parts of this cave. Saul, not knowing that he was there, had
   gone into it for the purpose of taking [305] bodily refreshment, and
   there, overcome by sleep, he was resting. When David perceived this,
   although all urged him to avail himself of the opportunity, he
   abstained from slaying the king, and simply took away his mantle.
   Presently going out, he addressed the king from a safe position behind,
   recounting the services he had done him, how often he had exposed his
   life to peril for the sake of the kingdom, and how last of all, he had
   not, on the present occasion, sought to kill him when he was given over
   to him by God. Upon hearing these things, Saul confessed his fault,
   entreated pardon, shed tears, extolled the piety of David, and blamed
   his own wickedness, while he addressed David as king and son. He was so
   much changed from his former ferocious character, that no one could now
   have thought he would make any further attempt against his son-in-law.
   But David, who had thoroughly [306] tested and known his evil
   disposition, did not think it safe to put himself in the power of the
   king, and kept himself within the desert. Saul, almost mad with rage,
   because he was unable to capture his son-in-law, gave in marriage to
   one Faltim his daughter Melchol, who, as we have related above, had
   been married to David. David fled to the Philistines.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [305] "Reficiendi corporis gratia": different from the Hebrew text.

   [306] The text is uncertain, but the meaning is clear.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXVI.

   At that time Samuel died. Saul, when the Philistines made war upon him,
   consulted God, and no answer was returned to him. Then, by means of a
   woman whose entrails a spirit of error [307] had filled, he called up
   and consulted Samuel. Saul was informed by him that on the following
   day he with his sons, being overcome by the Philistines, would fall in
   the battle. The Philistines, accordingly, having pitched their camp on
   the enemy's territory, drew up their army in battle array on the
   following day, David, however, being sent away from the camp, because
   they did not believe that he would be faithful to them against his own
   people. But the battle taking place, the Hebrews were routed and the
   sons of the king fell; Saul, having sunk down from his horse, that he
   might not be taken alive by the enemy, fell on his own sword. We do not
   find any certain statements as to the length of his reign, unless that
   he is said in the Acts of the Apostles to have reigned forty years. As
   to this, however, I am inclined to think that Paul, who made the
   statement in his preaching, then meant to include also the years of
   Samuel under the length of that king's reign. [308] Most of those,
   however, who have written about these times, remark that he reigned
   thirty years. I can, by no means, agree with this opinion, for at the
   time when the ark of God was transferred to the town of Cariathiarim,
   Saul had not yet begun to reign, and it is related that the ark was
   removed by David the king out of that town after it had been there
   twenty years. Therefore, since Saul reigned and died within that
   period, he must have held the government only for a very brief space of
   time. We find the same obscurity concerning the times of Samuel, who,
   having been born under the priesthood of Eli, is related, when very
   old, to have fulfilled the duties of a priest. By some, however, who
   have written about these times (for the sacred history has recorded
   almost nothing about his years), [309] but by most he is said to have
   ruled the people seventy years. I have, however, been unable to
   discover what authority there is for this assumption. Amid such variety
   of error, we have followed the account of the Chronicles, [310] because
   we think that it was taken (as said above) from the Acts of the
   Apostles, and we repeat that Samuel and Saul together held the
   government for forty years.
     __________________________________________________________________

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

   [308] See Alford on Acts xiii. 21.

   [309] Halm here inserts the usual mark of a lacuna in the text: others
   omit the words "a plerisque autem."

   [310] He here specially refers to the well-known Chronicles of
   Eusebius, which were translated into Latin, and supplemented by Saint
   Jerome.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXVII.

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

    Chapter XXXVIII.

   At this time, he knew in a guilty way Bersabe, a woman of remarkable
   beauty. She is said to have been the wife of a certain man called
   Uriah, who was then in the camp. David caused him to be slain by
   exposing him to the enemy at a dangerous place in the battle. In this
   way, he added to the number of his wives the woman who was now free
   from the bond of marriage, but who was already pregnant through
   adultery. Then David, after being severely reproved by Nathan the
   prophet, although he confessed his sin, did not escape the punishment
   of God. For he lost in a few days the son who was born from the
   clandestine connection, and many terrible things happened in respect to
   his house and family. At last his son Absalom lifted impious arms
   against his father, with the desire of driving him from the throne.
   Joab encountered him in the field of battle, and the king entreated him
   to spare the young man when conquered; but he, disregarding this
   command, avenged with the sword his parricidal attempts. That victory
   is said to have been a mournful one to the king: so great was his
   natural affection that he wished even his parricidal son to be
   forgiven. This war seemed hardly finished when another arose, under a
   certain general called Sabaea, who had stirred up all the wicked to
   arms. But the whole commotion was speedily checked by the death of the
   leader. David then engaged in several battles against the Philistines
   with favorable results; and all being subdued by war, both foreign and
   home disturbances having been brought to accord, he possessed in peace
   a most flourishing kingdom. Then a sudden desire seized him of
   numbering the people, in order to ascertain the strength of his empire;
   and accordingly they were numbered by Joab, the master of the host, and
   were found to amount to one million three hundred thousand [311]
   citizens. David soon regretted and repented of this proceeding, and
   implored pardon of God for having lifted up his thoughts to this, that
   he should reckon the power of his kingdom rather by the multitude of
   his subjects than by the divine favor. Accordingly, an angel was sent
   to him to reveal to him a threefold punishment, and to give him the
   power of choosing either one or another. Well, when a famine for three
   years was set before him, and flight before his enemies for three
   months, and a pestilence for three days, shunning both flight and
   famine, he made choice of pestilence, and, almost in a moment of time,
   seventy thousand men perished. Then David, beholding the angel by whose
   right hand the people were overthrown, implored pardon, and offered
   himself singly to punishment instead of all, saying that he deserved
   destruction inasmuch as it was he who had sinned. Thus, the punishment
   of the people was turned aside; and David built an altar to God on the
   spot where he had beheld the angel. After this, having become infirm
   through years and illness, he appointed Solomon, who had been born to
   him by Bersabe, the wife of Uriah, his successor in the kingdom. He,
   having been anointed with the royal oil by Sadoc the priest, received
   the title of king, while his father was still alive. David died, after
   he had reigned forty years.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [311] As is often the case with respect to numbers, there are
   discrepancies in the various accounts given of this census.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXIX.

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

    Chapter XL.

   Trusting in these resources, Solomon set about erecting a temple of
   immense size to God, funds for the purpose having been got together
   during three years, and laid the foundation of it about the fourth year
   of his reign. This was about the five hundred and eighty-eighth year
   after the departure of the Hebrews from Egypt, although in the third
   Book of Kings the years are reckoned at four hundred and forty. [312]
   This is by no means accurate; for it would have been more likely that,
   in the order of dates I have given above, I should perhaps reckon fewer
   years than more. But I do not doubt that the truth had been falsified
   by the carelessness of copyists, especially since so many ages
   intervened, rather than that the sacred [313] writer erred. In the same
   way, in the case of this little work of ours, we believe it will happen
   that, through the negligence of transcribers, those things which have
   been put together, not without care on our part, should be corrupted.
   Well, then, Solomon finished his work of building the temple in the
   twentieth year from its commencement. Then, having offered sacrifice in
   that place, as well as uttered a prayer, by which he blessed the people
   and the temple, God spoke to him, declaring that, if at any time they
   should sin and forsake God, their temple should be razed to the ground.
   We see that this has a long time ago been fulfilled, and in due time we
   shall set forth the connected order of events. In the meantime, Solomon
   abounded in wealth, and was, in fact, the richest of all the kings that
   ever lived. But, as always takes place in such circumstances, he sunk
   from wealth into luxury and vice, forming marriages (in spite of the
   prohibition of God) with foreign women, until he had seven hundred
   wives, and three hundred concubines. As a consequence, he set up idols
   for them, after the manner of their nations, to which they might offer
   sacrifice. God, turned away from him by such doings, reproved him
   sharply, and made known to him as a punishment, that the greater part
   of his kingdom would be taken from his son, and given to a servant. And
   that happened accordingly.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [312] Here, again, there is much discrepancy in the accounts.

   [313] "Propheta."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLI.

   For, on the death of Solomon in the fortieth year of his reign, Roboam
   his son having succeeded to the throne of his father in the sixteenth
   year of his age, a portion of the people, taking offense, revolted from
   him. For, having asked that the very heavy tribute which Solomon had
   imposed upon them might be lessened, he rejected the entreaties of
   these suppliants, and thus alienated from him the favor of the whole
   people. Accordingly, by universal consent, the government was bestowed
   on Jeroboam. He, sprung from a family of middle rank, had for some time
   been in the service of Solomon. But when the king found that the
   sovereignty of the Hebrews had been promised to him by a response of
   the prophet Achia, he had resolved privately to cut him off. Jeroboam,
   under the influence of this fear, fled into Egypt, and there married a
   wife of the royal family. But, when at length he heard of the death of
   Solomon, he returned to his native land, and, by the wish of the
   people, as we have said above, he assumed the government. Two tribes,
   however, Judah and Benjamin, had remained under the sway of Roboam; and
   from these he got ready an army of thirty thousand men. But when the
   two hosts advanced, the people were instructed by the words of God to
   abstain from fighting, for that Jeroboam had received the kingdom by
   divine appointment. Thus the army disdained the command of the king,
   and dispersed, while the power of Jeroboam was increased. But, since
   Roboam held Jerusalem, where the people had been accustomed to offer
   sacrifice to God in the temple built by Solomon, Jeroboam, fearing lest
   their religious feelings might alienate the people from him, resolved
   to fill their minds with superstition. Accordingly, he set up one
   golden calf at Bethel, and another at Dan, to which the people might
   offer sacrifice; and, passing by the tribe of Levi, he appointed
   priests from among the people. But censure followed this guilt so
   hateful to God. Frequent battles then took place between the kings, and
   so they retained their respective kingdoms on doubtful conditions.
   Roboam died at the close of the seventeenth year of his reign.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLII.

   In his room Abiud his son held the kingdom at Jerusalem for six years,
   although he is said in the Chronicles [314] to have reigned three
   years. Asab his son succeeded him, being the fifth from David, as he
   was his great-great-grandson. He was a pious worshiper of God; for,
   destroying the altars and the groves of the idols, he removed the
   traces of his father's faithlessness. He formed an alliance with the
   king of Syria, and by his help inflicted much loss on the kingdom of
   Jeroboam, which was then held by his son, and often, after conquering
   the enemy, carried off spoil as the result of victory. After forty-one
   years he died, afflicted with disease in his feet. To him sin of a
   three-fold kind is ascribed; first, that he trusted too much to his
   alliance with the king of Syria; secondly, that he cast into prison a
   prophet of God who rebuked him for this; and thirdly, that, when
   suffering from disease in his feet, he sought a remedy, not from God,
   but from the physicians. In the beginning of his reign died Jeroboam,
   king of the ten tribes, and left his throne to his son Nabath. He, from
   his wicked works, and, both by his own and his [315] father's doings,
   hateful to God, did not possess the kingdom more than two years, and
   his children, as being unworthy, were deprived [316] of the government.
   He had for his successor Baasa, the son of Achia, and he proved himself
   equally estranged from God. He died in the twenty-sixth year of his
   reign: and his power passed to Ela his son, but was not retained more
   than two years. For Zambri, leader of his cavalry, killed him at a
   banquet, and seized the kingdom,--a man equally odious to God and men.
   A portion of the people revolted from him, and the royal power was
   conferred on one Thamnis. But Zambri reigned before him seven years,
   and at the same time with him twelve years. And, on the death of Asab,
   Josaphat his son began to reign over part of the tribe of Judah, a man
   deservedly famous for his pious virtues. He lived at peace with Zambri;
   and he died, after a reign of twenty-five years.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [314] The Chronicon of Eusebius is referred to.

   [315] Many editors here read "maternis," instead of "paternis."

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

    Chapter XLIII.

   In the time of his reign, Ahab, the son of Ambri, was king of the ten
   tribes, impious above all against God. For having taken in marriage
   Jezebel, the daughter of Basa, king of Sidon, he erected an altar and
   groves to the idol Bahal, and slew the prophets of God. At this time,
   Elijah the prophet by prayer shut up heaven, that it should not give
   any rain to the earth, and revealed that to the king, in order that he,
   in his impiety, might know himself to be the cause of the evil. The
   waters of heaven, therefore, being restrained, and since the whole
   country, burned up by the heat of the sun, did not furnish food either
   for man or beast, the prophet had even exposed himself to the side of
   perishing from hunger. At that time, when he betook himself to the
   desert, he depended for life on the ravens furnishing him with food,
   while a neighboring rivulet furnished him with water, until it was
   dried up. Then, being instructed by God, he went to the town of
   Saraptae, and turned aside to lodge with a widow-woman. And when, in
   his hunger, he begged food from her, she complained that she had only a
   handful of meal and a little oil, on the consumption of which she
   expected death along with her children. [317] But when Elijah promised
   in the words of God that neither should the meal lessen in the barrel
   nor the oil in the vessel, the woman did not hesitate to believe the
   prophet demanding faith, and obtained [318] the fulfillment of what was
   promised, since by daily increase as much was added as was day by day
   taken away. At the same time, Elijah restored to life the dead son of
   the same widow. Then, by the command of God, he went to the king, and
   having reproved his impiety, he ordered all the people to be gathered
   together to himself. When these had hastily assembled, the priests of
   the idols and of the groves to the number of about four hundred and
   fifty, were also summoned. Then there arose a dispute between them,
   Elijah setting forth the honor of God, while they upheld their own
   superstitions. At length they agreed that a trial should be made to
   this effect, that if fire sent down from heaven should consume the
   slain victim of either of them, that religion should be accepted as the
   true one which performed the miracle. Accordingly, the priests, having
   slain a calf, began to call upon the idol Bahal; and, after wasting
   their invocations to no purpose, they tacitly acknowledged the
   helplessness of their God. Then Elijah mocked them and said, "Cry aloud
   more vehemently, lest perchance he sleeps, and that thus you may rouse
   him from the slumber in which he is sunk." The wretched men could do
   nothing but shudder and mutter to themselves, but still they waited to
   see what Elijah would do. Well, he slew a calf and laid it upon the
   altar, having first of all filled the sacred place with water; and
   then, calling upon the name of the Lord, fire fell from heaven in the
   sight of all, and consumed alike the water and the victim. Then truly
   the people, casting themselves upon the earth, confessed God and
   execrated the idols; while finally, by the command of Elijah, the
   impious priests were seized, and, being brought down to the brook, were
   there slain. The prophet followed the king as he returned from that
   place; but as Jezebel, the wife of the king, was devising means for
   taking his life, he retired to a more remote spot. There God addressed
   him, telling him that there were still seven thousand men who had not
   given themselves up to idols. That was to Elijah a marvelous statement,
   for he had supposed that he himself was the only one who had kept free
   from impiety.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [317] "Cum filiis": after the Greek: the Hebrew text speaks of only one
   son.

   [318] Such seems clearly to be the meaning of the somewhat strange
   phrase, "promissorum fidem consecuta est."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLIV.

   At that time, Ahab, king of Samaria, coveted the vineyard of Naboth,
   which was adjacent to his own. And as Naboth was unwilling to sell it
   to him, he was cut off by the wiles of Jezebel. Thus Ahab got
   possession of the vineyard, though he is said at the same time to have
   regretted the death of Naboth. Acknowledging his crime, he is related
   to have done [319] penance clothed in sackcloth; and in this way he
   turned aside threatening punishment. For the king of Syria with a great
   army, having formed a military confederacy with thirty-two kings,
   entered the territories of Samaria, and began to besiege the city with
   its king. The affairs of the besieged being then in a state of great
   distress, the Syrian king offers these conditions in the war,--if they
   should give up their gold and silver and women, he would spare their
   lives. But, with such iniquitous conditions offered, it seemed better
   to suffer the greatest extremities. And now when the safety of all was
   despaired of, a prophet sent by God went to the king, encouraged him to
   go forth to battle, and when he hesitated, strengthened his confidence
   in many ways. Accordingly making a sally, the enemy were routed, and an
   abundant store of booty was secured. But, after a year, the Syrian king
   returned with recruited strength into Samaria, burning to avenge the
   defeat he had received, but was again overthrown. In that battle one
   hundred and twenty thousand of the Syrians perished; the king was
   pardoned, and his kingdom and former position were granted him. Then
   Ahab was reproved by the prophet in the words of God, for having abused
   the divine kindness, and spared the enemy delivered up to him. The
   Syrian king, therefore, after three years, made war upon the Hebrews.
   Against him Ahab, under the advice of some false prophet, went forth to
   battle, having spurned the words of Michea the prophet and cast him
   into prison, because the prophet had warned him that the fight would
   prove disastrous to him. Thus, then, Ahab, being slain in that battle,
   left the kingdom to his son Ochozia.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [319] "Egisse paenitentiam."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLV.

   He, being sick in body, and having sent some of his servants to consult
   an idol about his recovery, Elijah, as instructed by God, met them in
   the way, and, after rebuking them ordered them to inform the king that
   his death would follow from that disease. Then the king ordered him to
   be seized and brought into his presence, but those who were sent for
   this purpose were consumed by fire from heaven. The king died, as the
   prophet had predicted. To him there succeeded his brother Joram; and he
   held the government for the space of twelve years. But on the side of
   the two tribes, Josaphat the king having died, Joram his son possessed
   the kingdom for eighteen years. He had the daughter of Ahab to wife,
   and proved himself more like his father-in-law than his father. After
   him, Ochozias his son obtained the kingdom. During his reign, Elijah is
   related to have been taken up to heaven. At the same time, Elisha his
   disciple showed himself powerful by working many miracles, which are
   all too well known to need any description from my pen. By him the son
   of a widow was restored to life, a leper of Syria was cleansed, at a
   time of famine abundance of all things was brought into the city by the
   enemy having been put to flight, water was furnished for the use of
   three armies, and from a little oil the debt of a woman was paid by the
   oil being immensely multiplied, and sufficient means for a livelihood
   was provided for herself. In his times, as we have said, Ochozia was
   king of the two tribes, while Joram, as we have related above, ruled
   over the ten; and an alliance was formed between them. For war was
   carried on by them with combined forces both against the Syrians, and
   against Jeu, who had been anointed by the prophet as king of the ten
   tribes; and having gone forth to battle in company, they both perished
   in the same fight.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLVI.

   But Jeu possessed the kingdom of Joram. After the death of Ochozia in
   Judaea, when he had reigned one year, his mother, Gotholiah, seized the
   supreme power, having deprived her grandson (whose name was Joas) of
   the government, he being at the time but a little child. But the power
   thus snatched from him by his grandmother was, after eight years,
   restored to him through means of the priests and people, while his
   grandmother was driven into exile. He, at the beginning of his reign,
   was most devoted to the divine worship, and embellished the temple at
   great expense; afterwards, however, being corrupted by the flattery of
   the chief men, and unduly honored by them, he incurred wrath. For
   Azahel, king of Syria, made war upon him; and, as things went badly
   with him, he purchased peace with the gold of the temple. He did not,
   however, obtain it; but through resentment for what he had done he was
   slain by his own people in the fortieth year of his reign. He was
   succeeded by his son Amassia. But, on the side of the ten tribes, Jeu
   having died, Joachas his son began to reign, displeasing to God on
   account of his wicked works, in punishment of which his kingdom was
   ravaged by the Syrians, until, through the mercy of God, the enemy was
   driven back, and the inhabitants of the land began to occupy their
   former position. Joachas, having ended his days, left the kingdom to
   his son Joa. He raised civil war against Amassia, king of the two
   tribes; and, having obtained the victory, conveyed much spoil into his
   own kingdom. That is related to have occurred to Amassia as a
   punishment of his sin, for, having entered as a conqueror the
   territories of the Idumaeans, he had adopted the idols of that nation.
   He is described as having reigned nine years, so far as I find it
   stated in the Books of Kings. But in the Chronicles [320] of Scripture,
   as well as in the Chronicles [321] of Eusebius, he is affirmed to have
   held the government twenty-nine years; and the mode of reckoning which
   may easily be perceived in these Books of Kings undoubtedly leads to
   that conclusion. For Jeroboam is said to have begun to reign as king of
   the ten tribes in the eighth year of the reign of Amassia, and to have
   held the government forty-one years, and to have at length died in the
   fourth year of the reign of Ozia, son of Amassia. By this mode of
   reckoning, the reign of Amassia is made to extend over twenty-eight
   years. Accordingly, we, following out this, inasmuch as it is our
   purpose to adhere in this work to the dates in their proper order, have
   accepted the authority of the Chronicles. [322]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [320] "Paralipomenis."

   [321] "Chronicis," i.e. of Eusebius.

   [322] "Chronicorum," i.e. of Eusebius.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLVII.

   Ozias, then, the son of Amassia, succeeded to him. For, on the side of
   the ten tribes, Joas, reaching the end of his days, had given place to
   his son Jeroboa, and after him, again, his son Zacharias began to
   reign. Of these kings, and of all who ruled over Samaria on the side of
   the ten tribes, we have not thought it necessary to note the dates,
   because, aiming at brevity, we have omitted everything superfluous; and
   we have thought that the years should be carefully traced for a
   knowledge especially of the times of that portion [323] of the Jews,
   which being carried into captivity at a later period than the other,
   passed through a longer time as a kingdom. Ozias, then, having obtained
   the kingdom of Judah, gave his principal care to knowing the Lord,
   making great use of Zachariah the prophet (Isaiah, too, is said to have
   first prophesied under this king); and, on this account, he carried on
   war against his neighbors with deservedly prosperous results, while he
   also conquered the Arabians. And already he had shaken Egypt with the
   terror of his name; but, being elated by prosperity, he ventured on
   what was forbidden, and offered incense to God, a thing which it was
   the established custom for the priests alone to do. Being, then,
   rebuked by Azaria the priest, and compelled to leave the sacred place,
   he burst out into a rage, but was, when he finally withdrew, covered
   with leprosy. Under the influence of this disease he ended his days,
   after having reigned fifty-two years. Then the kingdom was given to
   Joathas his son; and he is related to have been very pious, and carried
   on the government with success: he subdued in war the nation of the
   Ammonites, and compelled them to pay tribute. He reigned sixteen years,
   and his son Achaz succeeded him.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [323] There is a reference in these words to the two tribes, or kingdom
   of Judah.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLVIII.

   The remarkable faith of the Ninevites is related to have been
   manifested about these times. That town, founded of old by Assure, the
   son of Sem, was the capital of the kingdom of the Assyrians. It was
   then full of a multitude of inhabitants, sustaining one hundred and
   twenty thousand men, and abounding in wickedness, as is usually the
   case among a vast concourse of people. God, moved by their sinfulness,
   commanded the prophet Jonah to go from Judaea, and denounce destruction
   upon the city, as Sodom and Gomorrah had of old been consumed by fire
   from heaven. But the prophet declined that office of preaching, not out
   of contumacy, but from foresight, which enabled him to behold God
   reconciled through the repentance of the people; and he embarked on
   board a ship which was bound for Tharsus, in a very different
   direction. But, after they had gone forth into the deep, the sailors,
   constrained by the violence of the sea, inquired by means of the lot
   who was the cause of that suffering. And when the lot fell upon Jonah,
   he was cast into the sea, to be, as it were, a sacrifice for stilling
   the tempest, and he was seized and swallowed by a whale--a monster of
   the deep. Cast out three days afterwards on the shores of the [324]
   Ninevites, he preached as he had been commanded, namely that the city
   would be destroyed in three [325] days, as a punishment for the sins of
   the people. The voice of the prophet was listened to, not in a
   hypocritical fashion, as at Sodom of old; and immediately by the order,
   and after the example, of the king, the whole people, and even those
   infants newly born, are commanded to abstain from meat and drink: the
   very beasts of burden in the place, and animals of different kinds,
   being forced by hunger and thirst, presented an appearance of those who
   lamented along with the human inhabitants. In this way, the threatened
   evil was averted. To Jonah, complaining to God, that his words had not
   been fulfilled, it was answered that pardon could never be denied to
   the penitent.
     __________________________________________________________________

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

   [325] After the Greek; the Hebrew has "forty days."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLIX.

   But in Samaria, Zacharia the king, who was very wicked, and whom we
   have spoken of above as occupying the throne, was slain by a certain
   Sella, who seized the kingdom. He, in turn, perished by the treachery
   of Mane, who simply repeated the conduct of his predecessor. Mane held
   the government which he had taken from Sella, and left it to his son
   Pache. But a certain person of the same name slew Pache, and seized the
   kingdom. Ere long being cut off by Osee, he lost the sovereignty by the
   same crime by which he had received it. This man, being ungodly beyond
   all the kings who had preceded him, brought punishment upon himself
   from God, and a perpetual captivity on his nation. For Salmanasar, king
   of the Assyrians, made war with him, and when conquered rendered him
   tributary. But when, with secret plans, he was preparing for rebellion,
   and had asked the king of the Ethiopians, who then had possession of
   Egypt for his assistance, Salmanasar, on discovering that, cast him
   into prison with fetters never taken off, while he destroyed the city,
   and carried off the whole people into his own kingdom, Assyrians being
   placed in the enemy's country to guard it. Hence that district was
   called Samaria, because in the language of the Assyrians guards are
   called Samaritae. [326] Very many of their settlers accepted the divine
   rites of the Jewish religion, while others remained in the errors of
   heathenism. In this war, Tobias was carried into captivity. But on the
   side of the two tribes, Achaz, who was displeasing to God on account of
   his impiety, finding he had frequently the worst of it in wars with his
   neighbors, resolved to worship the gods of the heathen, undoubtedly
   because by their help his enemies had proved victorious in frequent
   battles. He ended his days with this crime [327] in his wicked mind,
   after a reign of sixteen years.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [326] Vorstius remarks that this is a totally erroneous statement.

   [327] "Piaculo": a very old meaning is here attached to the word.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter L.

   To him succeeded Ezekias his son, a man very unlike his father in
   character. For, in the beginning of his reign, urging the people and
   the priests to the worship of God, he discoursed to them in many words,
   showing how often, after being chastened by the Lord, they had obtained
   mercy, and how the ten tribes, having been at last carried away into
   captivity, as had lately happened, were now paying the penalty of their
   impiety. He added that their duty was carefully to be on their guard
   lest they should deserve to suffer the same things. Thus, the minds of
   all being turned to religion, he appointed the Levites and all the
   priests to offer sacrifices according to the law, and arranged that the
   Passover, which had for a long time been neglected, should be
   celebrated. And when the holy day was at hand, he proclaimed the
   special day of assembly by messengers sent throughout all the land, so
   that, if any had remained in Samaria, after the removal of the ten
   tribes, they might gather together for the sacred observance. Thus, in
   a very full assemblage, the sacred day was spent with public rejoicing,
   and, after a long interval, the proper religious rites were restored by
   means of Ezekias. He then carried on military affairs with the same
   diligence with which he had attended to divine things, and defeated the
   Philistines in frequent battles; until Sennacherim, king of the
   Assyrians, made war against him, having entered his territories with a
   large army; and then, when the country had been laid waste without any
   opposition, he laid siege to the city. For Ezekias, being inferior in
   numbers, did not venture to come to an engagement with him, but kept
   himself safe within the walls. The king of Assyria, thundering at the
   gates, threatened destruction, and demanded surrender, exclaiming that
   in vain did Ezekias put his trust in God, for that he rather had taken
   up arms by the appointment of God; and that the conqueror of all
   nations, as well as the overthrower of Samaria could not be escaped,
   unless the king secured his own safety by a speedy surrender. In this
   state of affairs, Ezekias, trusting in God, consulted the prophet
   Isaiah, and from his answer he learned that there would be no danger
   from the enemy, and that the divine assistance would not fail him. And,
   in fact, not long after, Tarraca, king of Ethiopia, invaded the kingdom
   of the Assyrians.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter LI.

   By this news Sennacherim was led to return in order to defend his own
   territories, and he gave up the war, at the same time murmuring and
   crying out that victory was snatched from him the victor. He also sent
   letters to Ezekias, declaring, with many insulting words, that he,
   after settling his own affairs, would speedily return for the
   destruction of Judaea. But Ezekias, in no wise disturbed by these
   threats, is said to have prayed to God that he would not allow the so
   great insolence of this man to pass unavenged. Accordingly, in the same
   night, an angel attacking the camp of the Assyrians, caused [328] the
   death of many thousand men. The king in terror fled to the town of
   Nineveh, and being there slain by his sons, met with an end worthy of
   himself. At the same time, Ezekias, sick in body, lay suffering from
   disease. And when Isaiah had announced to him in the words of the Lord
   that the end of his life was at hand, the king is related to have wept;
   and thus he got fifteen years added to his life. These coming to an
   end, he died in the twenty-ninth year of his reign, and left the
   kingdom to his son Manasse. He, degenerating much from his father,
   forsook God, and took to the practice of impious worship; and being, as
   a punishment for this, delivered into the power of the Assyrians, he
   was by his sufferings constrained to acknowledge his error, and
   exhorted the people that, forsaking their idols, they should worship
   God. He accomplished nothing worthy of special mention, but reigned for
   fifty-five years. Then Amos his son obtained the kingdom, but possessed
   it only two years. He was the heir of his father's impiety, and showed
   himself regardless of God: being entrapped by some stratagems of his
   friends, he perished.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [328] Our author is here guilty of omission and consequent inaccuracy.
   Comp. Isa. chap. 37.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter LII.

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

    Chapter LIII.

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

    Chapter LIV.

   Meanwhile Sedechias, the king of the useless multitude, although
   without power, being of an unfaithful disposition and neglectful of
   God, and not understanding that captivity had been brought upon them on
   account of the sins of the nation, becoming at length ripe for
   suffering the last evils he could endure, offended the mind of the
   king. Accordingly, after a period of nine years, Nabuchodonosor made
   war against him, and having forced him to flee within the walls,
   besieged him for three years. At this time, he consulted Jeremia the
   prophet, who had already often proclaimed that captivity impended over
   the city, to discover if perhaps there might still be some hope. But
   he, not ignorant of the anger of heaven, having frequently had the same
   question put to him, at length gave an answer, denouncing special
   punishment upon the king. Then Sedechias, roused to resentment, ordered
   the prophet to be thrust into prison. Ere long, however, he regretted
   this cruel act, but, as the chief men of the Jews (whose practice it
   had been even from the beginning to afflict the righteous) opposed him,
   he did not venture to release the innocent man. Under coercion from the
   same persons, the prophet was let down into a pit [329] of great depth,
   and which was disgusting from its filth and squalor, while a deadly
   stench issued from it. This was done that he might not simply die by a
   common death. But the king, impious though he was, yet showed himself
   somewhat more merciful than the priests, and ordered the prophet to be
   taken out of the pit, and restored to the safekeeping of the prison. In
   the meantime the force of the enemy and want began to press the
   besieged hard, and everything being consumed that could be eaten,
   famine took a firm hold of them. Thus, its defenders being worn out
   with want of food, the town was taken and burnt. The king, as the
   prophet had declared, had his eyes put out, and was carried away to
   Babylon, while Jeremia, through the mercy of the enemy, was taken out
   of his prison. When Nabuzardan, one of the royal princes, was leading
   him away captive with the rest, the choice was granted by him to the
   prophet, either to remain in his deserted and desolated native country,
   or to go along with him in the possession of the highest honors; and
   Jeremia preferred to abide in his native land. Nabuchodonosor, having
   carried away the people, appointed as governor over those left behind
   by the conquerors (either from the circumstances attending the war, or
   from an absolute weariness of accumulating spoil) Godolia, who belonged
   to the same nation. He gave him, however, no royal ensign, or even the
   name of governor, because there was really no honor in ruling over
   these few wretched persons.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [329] "Lacum," as once before.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Book II.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   The times of the captivity have been rendered illustrious by the
   predictions and deeds of the prophets, and especially by the remarkable
   persistency of Daniel in upholding the law, and by the deliverance of
   Susanna through the divine wisdom, as well as by the other things which
   it accomplished, and which we shall now relate in their order, Daniel
   was made a prisoner under King Joachim, and was brought to Babylon,
   while still a very little child. Afterwards, on account of the beauty
   of his countenance, he had a place given him among the king's servants,
   and along with him, Annanias, Misael, and Azarias. But, when the king
   had ordered them to be supplied with the finer kinds of food, and had
   imposed it as a duty on Asphane the eunuch to attend to that matter,
   Daniel, mindful of the traditions of his fathers which forbade him to
   partake of food from the table of a king of the Gentiles, begged of the
   eunuch to be allowed to use a diet of pulse only. Asphane objected that
   the leanness which would follow might reveal the fact that the king's
   commandment had been disobeyed; but Daniel, putting his trust in God,
   promised that he would have greater beauty of countenance from living
   on pulse than from the use of the king's dainties.  And his words were
   made good, so that the faces of those who were cared for at the public
   expense were regarded as by no means comparable to those of Daniel and
   his friends. Accordingly, being promoted by the king to honor and
   favor, they were, in a short time, by their prudence and wise conduct,
   preferred to all those that stood nearest to the king. About the same
   time, Susanna, the wife of a certain man called Joachis, a woman of
   remarkable beauty, was desired by two elders, and, when she would not
   listen to their unchaste proposals, was assailed by a false accusation.
   These elders reported that a young man was found with her in a retired
   place, but escaped their hands by his youthful nimbleness, while they
   were enfeebled with age. Credit, accordingly, was given to these
   elders, and Susanna was condemned by the sentence of the people. And,
   as she was being led away to punishment according to the law, Daniel,
   who was then twelve years old, after having rebuked the Jews for
   delivering the innocent to death, demanded that she should be brought
   back to trial, and that her cause should be heard afresh. For the
   multitude of the Jews who were then present, thought that a boy of an
   age so little commanding respect, had not ventured to take such a bold
   step without a divine impulse, and, granting him the favor which was
   asked, returned anew to council. The trial, then, is entered upon once
   more; and Daniel was allowed to take his place among the elders. Upon
   this, he orders the two accusers to be separated from each other, and
   inquires of each of them in turn, under what kind of a tree he had
   discovered the adulteress. From the difference of answers which they
   gave, their falsehood was detected: Susanna was acquitted; and the
   elders, who had brought the innocent into danger, were condemned to
   death.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   At that time, Nabuchodonosor had a dream marvelous for that insight
   [330] into the future which it implied. As he could not of himself
   bring out its interpretation, he sent for the Chaldaeans who were
   supposed by magic arts and by the entrails of victims to know secret
   things, and to predict the future, in order to its interpretation.
   Presently becoming apprehensive lest, in the usual manner of men, they
   should extract from the dream not what was true, but what would be
   acceptable to the king, he suppresses the things he had seen, and
   demands of them that, if a real power of divination was in them, they
   should relate to him the dream itself; saying that he would then
   believe their interpretation, if they should first make proof of their
   skill by relating the dream. But they declined attempting so great a
   difficulty, and confessed that such a thing was not within the reach of
   human power. The king, enraged because, under a false profession of
   divination, they were mocking men with their errors, while they were
   compelled by the present case to acknowledge that they had no such
   knowledge as was pretended, made an exposure of them by means of a
   royal edict; and all the men professing that art were publicly put to
   death. When Daniel heard of that, he spoke to one of those nearest to
   the king, and promised to give an account of the dream, as well as
   supply its interpretation. The thing is reported to the king, and
   Daniel is sent for. The mystery had already been revealed to him by
   God; and so he relates the vision of the king, as well as interprets
   it. But this matter demands that we set forth the dream of the king and
   its interpretation, along with the fulfillment of his words by what
   followed. The king, then, had seen in his sleep an image with a head of
   gold, with a breast and arms of silver, with a belly and thighs of
   brass, with legs of iron, and which in its feet ended partly with iron,
   and partly with clay. But the iron and the clay when blended together
   could not adhere to each other. At last, a stone cut out without hands
   broke the image to pieces, and the whole, being reduced to dust, was
   carried away by the wind.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [330] "mysterio futurorum mirabile."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   Accordingly, as the prophet interpreted the matter, the image which was
   seen furnished a representation of the world. The golden head is the
   empire of the Chaldaeans; for we have understood that it was the first
   and wealthiest. The breast and the arms of silver represent the second
   kingdom; for Cyrus, after the Chaldaeans and the Medes were conquered,
   conferred the empire on the Persians. In the brazen belly it is said
   that the third sovereignty was indicated; and we see that this was
   fulfilled, for Alexander took the empire from the Persians, and won the
   sovereignty for the Macedonians. The iron legs point to a fourth power,
   and that is understood of the Roman empire, which is more powerful
   [331] than all the kingdoms which were before it. But the fact that the
   feet were partly of iron and partly clay, indicates that the Roman
   empire is to be divided, so as never to be united. This, too, has been
   fulfilled, for the Roman state is ruled not by one emperor but by
   several, and these are always quarreling among themselves, either in
   actual warfare or by factions. Finally, by the clay and the iron being
   mixed together, yet never in their substance thoroughly uniting, are
   shadowed forth those future mixtures of the human race which disagree
   among themselves, though apparently combined. For it is obvious that
   the Roman territory is occupied by foreign nations, or rebels, or that
   it has been given over to those who have surrendered themselves under
   an appearance [332] of peace. And it is also evident that barbarous
   nations, and especially Jews, have been commingled with our armies,
   cities, and provinces; and we thus behold them living among us, yet by
   no means agreeing to adopt our customs. And the prophets declare that
   these are the last times. But in the stone cut out without hands, which
   broke to pieces the gold, silver, brass, iron, and clay, there is a
   figure of Christ. For he, not born under human conditions (since he was
   born not of the will of man, but of the will of God), will reduce to
   nothing that world in which exist earthly kingdoms, and will establish
   another kingdom, incorruptible and everlasting, that is, the future
   world, which is prepared for the saints. The faith of some still
   hesitates about this point only, while they do not believe about things
   yet to come, though they are convinced of the things that are past.
   Daniel, then, was presented with many gifts by the king, was set over
   Babylon and the whole empire, and was held in the highest honor. By his
   influence, Annanias, Azarias, and Misael were also advanced to the
   highest dignity and power. About the same time, the remarkable
   prophecies of Ezekiel came out, the mystery of future things and of the
   resurrection [333] having been revealed to him. His book is one of
   great weight, and deserves to be read with care.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [331] Such is clearly the meaning, but it is strangely expressed by the
   words "omnibus ante regnis validissimum."

   [332] The text is here very uncertain and obscure.

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

    Chapter IV.

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

    Chapter V.

   At this period of time, Nabuchodonosor elated with prosperity, erected
   a golden statue to himself of enormous size, and ordered it to be
   worshiped as a sacred image. And when this was zealously gone about by
   all, inasmuch as their minds had been corrupted by the universal
   flattery which prevailed, Annanias, Azarias, and Misael kept aloof from
   the profane observance, being well aware that that honor was due to God
   alone. They were therefore, according to an edict of the king, regarded
   as criminals, and there was set before them, as the means of
   punishment, a fiery furnace, in order that, by present terror, they
   might be compelled to worship the statue. But they preferred to be
   swallowed up by the flames rather than to commit such a sin.
   Accordingly, they were bound, and cast into the midst of the fire. But
   the flames laid hold of the agents in this execrable work, as they were
   forcing, with all eagerness, the victims into the fire;
   while--wonderful to say, and indeed incredible to all but
   eye-witnesses--the fire did not touch the Hebrews at all. They were
   seen by the spectators walking in the midst of the furnace, and singing
   a song of praise to God, while there was also beheld along with them a
   fourth person having the appearance of an angel, and whom
   Nabuchodonosor, on obtaining a nearer view of him, acknowledged to be
   the [334] Son of God. Then the king having no doubt that the divine
   power was present in the event which had taken place, sent
   proclamations throughout his whole kingdom making known the miracle
   which had taken place, and confessing that honor was to be paid to God
   alone. Not long after, being instructed by a vision which presented
   itself to him, and presently also by a voice which reached him from
   heaven, he is said to have done penance by laying aside his kingly
   power, retiring from all intercourse with mankind, and to have
   sustained life by herbs alone. However, his empire was kept for him by
   the will of God, until the time was fulfilled, and at length duly
   acknowledging God, he was, after seven years, restored to his kingdom
   and former position. He is related, after having conquered Sedechia
   (whom he carried away captive to Babylon), as we have said above, to
   have reigned twenty-six years, although I do not find that recorded in
   the sacred history. But it has perhaps happened that, while I was
   engaged in searching out many points, I found this remark in the work
   of some anonymous author which had become interpolated in course of
   time, and in which the dates of the Babylonish kings were contained. I
   did not think it right to pass the remark unnoticed, since it does in
   fact harmonize with the Chronicles, and thus its account agrees with
   us, to the effect that, through the succession of the kings, whose
   dates the record contained, it completed seventy years up to the first
   year of king Cyrus, and such in fact is the number of years which is
   stated in the sacred history to have elapsed from the captivity up to
   the time of Cyrus.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [334] Or, "confessed that he had seen a son of God."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   After Nabuchodonosor, the kingdom fell to his son, whom I find called
   Euilmarodac in the Chronicles. He died in the twelfth year of his
   reign, and made room for his younger brother, who was called Balthasar.
   He, when in the fourteenth year he gave a public feast to his chief men
   and rulers, ordered the sacred vessels (which had been taken away by
   Nabuchodonosor from the temple at Jerusalem, yet had not been employed
   for any uses of the king, but were kept laid up in the treasury) to be
   brought forth. And when all persons, both of the male and female sex,
   with his wives and concubines, were using these amid the luxury and
   licentiousness of a royal banquet, suddenly the king observed fingers
   writing upon the wall, and the letters were perceived to be formed into
   words. [335] But no one could be found who was able to read the
   writing. The king, therefore, in perturbation called for the magi and
   the Chaldaeans. When these simply muttered among themselves and
   answered nothing, the queen reminded the king that there was a certain
   Hebrew, Daniel by name, who had formerly revealed to Nabuchodonosor a
   dream containing a secret mystery, and had then, on account of his
   remarkable wisdom, been promoted to the highest honors. Accordingly,
   he, being sent for, read and interpreted the writing, to the effect
   that, on account of the sin of the king, who had profaned vessels
   sacred to God, destruction impended over him, and that his kingdom was
   given to the Medes and Persians. And this presently took place. For, on
   the same night, Balthasar perished, and Darius, a Mede by nation, took
   possession of his kingdom. He again, finding that Daniel was held in
   the highest reputation, placed him at the head of the whole empire, in
   this following the judgment of the kings who had preceded him. For
   Nabuchodonosor had also set him over the kingdom, and Balthasar had
   presented him with a purple robe and a golden chain, while he also
   constituted him the third ruler in the kingdom.
     __________________________________________________________________

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

    Chapter VII.

   Those, therefore, who were possessed of power along with him,
   stimulated by envy, because a foreigner belonging to a captive nation
   had been placed on a footing of equality with them, constrain the king,
   who had been corrupted by flattery, to enact that divine honors should
   be paid to him for the next thirty days, and that it should not be
   lawful for any one to pray to a god except the king. Darius was easily
   persuaded to that, through the folly of all kings who claim for
   themselves divine honors. In these circumstances, Daniel being not
   unacquainted with what had happened, and not being ignorant that prayer
   ought to be addressed to God, and not to man, is accused of not having
   obeyed the king's commandment. And much against the will of Darius, to
   whom he had always been dear and acceptable, the rulers prevailed that
   he should be let down into a den. [336] But no harm came to him when
   thus exposed to the wild beasts. And on the king discovering this, he
   ordered his accusers to be given over to the lions. They, however, did
   not pass through a similar experience, for they were instantly devoured
   to satisfy the hunger of the savage beasts. Daniel, who had been famous
   before, was now esteemed still more famous; and the king, repealing his
   former edict, issued a new one to the effect that, all errors and
   superstitions being abandoned, the God of Daniel was to be worshiped.
   There exists also a record of visions of Daniel, in which he revealed
   the order of events in coming ages, embracing in them also the number
   of the years, within which he announced that Christ would descend to
   earth (as has taken place), and clearly set forth the future coming of
   Antichrist. If any one is eager to inquire into these points, he will
   find them more fully treated of in the book of Daniel: our design is
   simply to present a connected statement of events. Darius is related to
   have reigned eighteen years; after which date Astyages began to rule
   over the Medes.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [336] "lacum": twice used before in the sense of pit.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Him Cyrus, his grandson by his daughter, expelled from the kingdom,
   having used the arms of the Persians for the purpose; and hence the
   chief power was transferred to the Persians. The Babylonians also fell
   under his power and government. It happened at the beginning of his
   reign that, by the issue of public edicts, he gave permission to the
   Jews to return into their own country; and he also restored the sacred
   vessels which Nabuchodonosor had carried away from the temple at
   Jerusalem. Accordingly, a few then returned into Judaea; as to the
   others, we have not been able to discover whether the desire of
   returning, or the power of doing so, was wanting. There was at that
   time among the Babylonians a brazen image of Belus, a very ancient
   king, whom Virgil also has mentioned. [337] This having been deemed
   sacred by the superstition of the people, Cyrus also had been
   accustomed to worship, being deceived by the trickery of its priests.
   They affirmed that the image ate and drank, while they themselves
   secretly carried off the daily portion which was offered to the idol.
   Cyrus, then, being on intimate terms with Daniel, asked him why he did
   not worship the image, since it was a manifest symbol of the living
   God, as consuming those things which were offered to it. Daniel,
   laughing at the mistake of the man, replied that it could not possibly
   be the case, that that work of brass--mere insensate matter--could use
   either meat or drink. The king, therefore, ordered the priests to be
   called (they were about seventy in number); and, bringing terror to
   bear upon them, he reprovingly asked them who was in the way of
   consuming what was offered, since Daniel, a man distinguished for his
   wisdom, maintained that that could not be done by an insensate image.
   Then they, trusting in their ready-made trick, ordered the usual
   offering to be made, and the temple to be sealed up by the king, on the
   understanding that, unless on the following day the whole offering were
   found to have been consumed, they should suffer death, while, on the
   opposite being discovered, the same fate awaited Daniel. Accordingly,
   the temple was sealed up by the signet of the king; but Daniel had
   previously, without the knowledge of the priests, covered the floor of
   it with ashes, so that their footprints might betray the clandestine
   approaches of those who entered. The king, then, having entered the
   temple on the following day, perceived that those things had been taken
   away, which he had ordered to be served up to the idol. Then Daniel
   lays open the secret fraud by the betraying footprints, showing that
   the priests, with their wives and children, had entered the temple by a
   hole opened from below, and had devoured those things which were served
   up to the idol. Accordingly, all of them were put to death by the order
   of the king, while the temple and image were submitted to the power of
   Daniel, and were destroyed at his command.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [337] The reference is to AEn. I. 729, but Sigonius and others have
   suspected the words as being a gloss. They are, however, probably
   genuine. Virgil's words are,-- "Hic regina gravem gemmis auroque
   poposcit Implevitque mero paternam, quam Belus et omnes A Belo soliti;
   tum facta silentia tectis."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   In the meantime, those Jews, who, as we have said above, returned into
   their native land by the permission of Cyrus, attempted to restore
   their city and temple. But, being few and poor, they made but little
   progress, until, at last, after the lapse of about a hundred years,
   while Artaxerxes the king ruled over the Persians, they were absolutely
   deterred from building by those who had local authority. For, at that
   time, Syria and all Judaea was ruled under the empire of the Persians
   by magistrates and governors. Accordingly, these took counsel to write
   to king Artaxerxes, that it was not fitting that opportunity should be
   granted to the Jews of rebuilding their city, lest, in accordance with
   their stubborn character, and being accustomed to rule over other
   nations, they should, on recovering their strength, not submit to live
   under the sway of a foreign power. Thus, the plan of the rulers being
   approved of by the king, the building of the city was put a stop to,
   and delayed until the second year of Darius the king. But, who were
   kings of Persia throughout this period of time, we shall here insert,
   in order that the succession of the dates may be set forth in a regular
   and fixed order. Well, then, after Darius the Mede, who, as we have
   said above, reigned eighteen years, Cyrus held the supreme power for
   thirty-one years. While making war upon the Scythians, he fell in
   battle, in the second year after Tarquinius Superbus began to reign at
   Rome. To Cyrus succeeded his son Cambyses, and reigned eight years. He,
   after harassing with war Egypt and Ethiopia, and subduing these
   countries, returned as victor to Persia, but accidentally hurt himself,
   and died from that wound. After his death, two brothers, who were magi,
   and Medes by nation, held rule over the Persians for seven months. To
   slay these, seven of the most noble of the Persians formed a
   conspiracy, of whom the leader was Darius, the son of Hystaspes, who
   was a cousin of Cyrus, and by unanimous consent the kingdom was
   bestowed on him: he reigned thirty and six years. He, four years before
   his death, fought at Marathon, in a battle greatly celebrated both in
   Greek and Roman history. That took place about the two hundred and
   sixtieth year after the founding of Rome, while Macerinus and Augurinus
   were consuls, that is, eight hundred and eighty-eight years ago,
   provided the research I have made into the succession of Roman consuls
   does not deceive me; for I have made the entire reckoning down to the
   time of Stilico. [338] After Darius came Xerxes, and he is said to have
   reigned twenty-one years, although I have found that the length of his
   rule is, in most copies, [339] set down at twenty and five years. To
   him succeeded Artaxerxes, of whom we have made mention above. Since he
   ordered the building of the Jewish city and temple to be stopped, the
   work was suspended to the second year of king Darius. But that the
   succession of dates may be completed up to him, I have to state that
   Artaxerxes reigned forty-one years, Xerxes two months, and that, after
   him, Sucdianus ruled for seven months.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [338] Stilico was consul during the lifetime of Sulpitius.

   [339] "in plerisque exemplaribus": the mss. varying, as they so often
   do, with respect to numbers.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

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

    Chapter XI.

   There was at that time at Babylon one Nehemiah, a servant of the king,
   a Jew by birth, and very much beloved by Artaxerxes on account of the
   services he had rendered. He, having inquired of his fellow-countrymen
   the Jews, what was the condition of their ancestral city; and having
   learned that his native land remained in the same fallen condition as
   before, is said to have been disturbed with all his heart, and to have
   prayed to God with groans and many tears. He also called to mind the
   sins of his nation, and urgently entreated the divine compassion.
   Accordingly, the king noticing that he, while waiting at table, seemed
   more sorrowful than usual, asked him to explain the reasons of his
   grief. Then he began to bewail the misfortunes of his nation, and the
   ruin of his ancestral city, which now, for almost two hundred and fifty
   years, being leveled with the ground, furnished a proof of the evils
   which had been endured, and a gazing-stock to their enemies. He
   therefore begged the king to grant him the liberty of going and
   restoring it. The king yielded to these dutiful entreaties, and
   immediately sent him away with a guard of cavalry, that he might the
   more safely accomplish his journey, giving him, at the same time,
   letters to the rulers requesting them to furnish him with all that was
   necessary. When he arrived at Jerusalem, he distributed the work
   connected with the city to the people, man by man; and all vied with
   each other in carrying out the orders which they received. And already
   the work of rebuilding [340] had been half accomplished, when the
   jealousy of the surrounding heathen burst out, and the neighboring
   cities conspired to interrupt the works, and to deter the Jews from
   building. But Nehemiah, having stationed guards against those making
   assaults upon the people, was in no degree alarmed, and carried out
   what he had begun. And thus, after the wall was completed, and the
   entrances of the gates finished, he measured out the city for the
   construction by families of houses within it. He reckoned, also, that
   the people were not adequate in numbers to the size of the city; for
   there were not more of them than fifty thousand of both sexes and of
   all ranks--to such an extent had their formerly enormous numbers been
   reduced by frequent wars, and by the multitude kept in captivity. For,
   of old, those two tribes, of whom the remaining people were all that
   survived, had, when the ten tribes were separated from them, been able
   to furnish three hundred and twenty thousand armed men. But being given
   up by God, on account of their sin, to death and captivity, they had
   sunk down to the miserably small number which they now presented. This
   company, however, as I have said, consisted only of the two tribes: the
   ten [341] which had previously been carried away being scattered among
   the Parthians, Medes, Indians, and Ethiopians never returned to their
   native country, and are to this day held under the sway of barbarous
   nations. But the completion of the restored city is related to have
   been effected in the thirty-second year of the reign of Artaxerxes.
   From that time to the crucifixion of Christ; that is, to the time when
   Fufius Geminus and Rubellius were consuls, there elapsed three hundred
   and ninety and eight years. But from the restoration of the temple to
   its destruction, which was completed by Titus under Vespasian, when
   Augustus was consul, there was a period of four hundred and
   eighty-three years. That was formerly predicted by Daniel, who
   announced that from the restoration of the temple to its overthrow
   there would elapse seventy and nine weeks. Now, from the date of the
   captivity of the Jews until the time of the restoration of the city,
   there were two hundred and sixty years.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [340] "jamque ad medium machinae processerant."

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

    Chapter XII.

   At this period of time we think Esther and Judith lived, but I confess
   that I cannot easily perceive with what kings especially I should
   connect the actions of their lives. For, while Esther is said to have
   lived under King Artaxerxes, I find that there were two Persian kings
   of that name, and there is much hesitation in concluding to which of
   these her date is to be assigned. However, it has seemed preferable to
   me to connect the history of Esther with that Artaxerxes under whom
   Jerusalem was restored, because it is not likely that, if she had lived
   under the former Artaxerxes, whose times Esdras has given an account
   of, he would have made no mention of such an illustrious woman. This is
   all the more convincing since we know that the building of the temple
   was (as we have related above) prohibited by that Artaxerxes and Esther
   would not have allowed that had she then been united with him in
   marriage. But I will now repeat what things she accomplished. There was
   at that time a certain Vastis connected with the king in marriage, a
   woman of marvelous beauty. Being accustomed to extol her loveliness to
   all, he one day, when he was giving a public entertainment, ordered the
   queen to attend for the purpose of exhibiting her beauty. But she, more
   prudent than the foolish king, and being too modest to make a show of
   her person before the eyes of men, refused compliance with his orders.
   His savage mind was enraged by this insult, and he drove her forth,
   both from her condition of marriage with him and from the palace.
   Consequently, when a young woman was sought after to take her place as
   the wife of the king, Esther was found to excel all others in beauty.
   She being a Jewess of the tribe of Benjamin, and an orphan, without
   father or mother, had been brought up by her cousin-german, [342]
   Mardochaeus. On being espoused to the king, she, by the instructions of
   him who had brought her up, concealed her nation and fatherland, and
   was also admonished by him not to become forgetful of her ancestral
   traditions, nor, though as a captive she had entered into marriage with
   a foreigner, to take part in the food of the heathen. Thus, then, being
   united to the king, she, in a short time, as was to be expected, easily
   captivated his whole mind by the power of her beauty, so that,
   equalizing her with himself in the emblem of sovereign power, he
   presented her with a purple robe.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [342] "patruele patre": words which have much perplexed the editors.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   At this time, Mardochaeus was among those nearest to the king, having
   entirely under his charge the affairs of the household. He had made
   known to the king a plot which had been formed by two eunuchs, and, on
   that account, had become a greater favorite, while he was presented
   with the highest honors. There was at that period one Haman, a very
   confidential friend of the king, whom he had made equal to himself and,
   after the manner of sovereign rulers, had ordered to be worshiped.
   Mardochaeus being the one man among all who refused to do that, had
   greatly kindled the wrath of the Persian against himself. Accordingly,
   Haman setting his mind to work the ruin of the Hebrew, went to the
   king, and affirmed that there was in his kingdom a race of men of
   wicked superstitions, and hateful alike to God and men. He said that,
   as they lived according to foreign laws, they deserved to be destroyed;
   and that it was a righteous thing to hand over the whole of this nation
   to death. At the same time, he promised the king immense wealth out of
   their possessions. The barbarous prince was easily persuaded, and an
   edict was issued for the slaughter of the Jews, while men were at once
   sent out to publish it through the whole kingdom from India even to
   Ethiopia. When Mardochaeus heard of this, he rent his clothes, clothed
   himself in sackcloth, scattered ashes upon his head, and, going to the
   palace, he there made the whole place resound with his wailing and
   complaints, crying out that it was an unworthy thing that an innocent
   nation should perish, while there existed no ground for its
   destruction. Esther's attention was attracted by the voice of
   lamentation, and she learned how the case really stood. But she was
   then at a loss what step she should take (for, according to the custom
   of the Persians, the queen is not permitted access to the king, unless
   she has been sent for, and indeed is not admitted at any time the king
   may please, but only at a fixed period); and it happened at the time,
   that by this rule, Esther was held as separated from the presence of
   the king for the next thirty days. However, thinking that she ought to
   run some risk in behalf of her fellow-countrymen, even should sure
   destruction await her, she was prepared to encounter death in such a
   noble cause, and, after having called upon God, she entered the court
   of the king. But the barbarian, though at first amazed at this unusual
   occurrence, was gradually won over by female blandishments, and at
   length went so far as to accompany the queen to a banquet which she had
   prepared. Along with him also went Haman, the favorite of the king, but
   a deadly enemy of the nation of the Jews. Well, when after the feasting
   the banquet began to become jovial through the many cups which were
   drank, Esther cast herself down at the knees of the king, and implored
   him to stay the destruction which threatened her nation. Then the king
   promised to refuse nothing to her entreaties, if she had any further
   request to make. Esther at once seized the opportunity, and demanded
   the death of Haman as a satisfaction to her nation, which he had
   desired to see destroyed. But the king could not forget his friend, and
   hesitating a little, he withdrew for a short time for the purpose of
   considering the matter. He then returned, and when he saw Haman
   grasping the knees of the queen, excited with rage, and, crying out
   that violence was being applied to the queen, he ordered him to be put
   to death. It then came to the knowledge of the king that a cross [343]
   had been got ready by Haman on which Mardochaeus was to suffer. Thus,
   Haman was fixed to that very cross, and all his goods were handed over
   to Mardochaeus, while the Jews at large were set free. Artaxerxes
   reigned sixty and two years, and was succeeded by Ochus.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [343] "poenam crucis": after the Greek.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   To this series of events it will be right that I should append an
   account of the doings of Judith; for she is related to have lived after
   the captivity, but the sacred history has not revealed who was king of
   the Persians in her day. It, however, calls the king under whom her
   exploits were performed by the name of Nabuchodonosor, and that was
   certainly not the one who took Jerusalem. But I do not find that any
   one of that name reigned over the Persians after the captivity, unless
   it be that, on account of the [344] wrath and like endeavors which he
   manifested, any king acting so was styled Nabuchodonosor by the Jews.
   Most persons, however, think that it was Cambyses, the son of Cyrus, on
   this ground that he, as a conqueror, penetrated into Egypt and
   Ethiopia. But the sacred history is opposed to this opinion; for Judith
   is described as having lived in the twelfth year of the king in
   question. Now, Cambyses did not possess the supreme power for more than
   eight years. Wherefore, if it is allowable to make a conjecture on a
   point of history, I should be inclined to believe that her exploits
   were performed under king Ochus, who came after the second Artaxerxes.
   I found this conjecture on the fact that (as I have read in profane
   histories) he is related to have been by nature cruel and fond of war.
   For he both engaged in hostilities with his neighbors, and recovered by
   wars Egypt, which had revolted many years before. At that time, also,
   he is related to have ridiculed the sacred rites of the Egyptians and
   Apis, who was regarded by them as a god; a thing which Baguas, one of
   his eunuchs, an Egyptian by nation, and indignant at the king's
   conduct, afterwards avenged by the death of the king, considering that
   the king had insulted the race to which he belonged. Now, the inspired
   [345] history makes mention of this Baguas; for, when Holofernes by the
   order of the king led an army against the Jews, it has related that
   Baguas was among the host. Wherefore, not without reason may I bring it
   forward in proof of the opinion I have expressed that that king who was
   named Nabuchodonosor was really Ochus, since profane historians have
   related that Baguas lived in his reign. But this ought not to be felt
   at all remarkable by any one, that mere worldly writers have not
   touched on any of those points which are recorded in the sacred
   writings. The spirit of God thus took care that the history should be
   strictly confined within its own mysteries, unpolluted by any corrupt
   mouth, or that which mingled truth with fiction. That history being, in
   fact, separated from the affairs of the world, and of a kind to be
   expressed only in sacred words, clearly ought not to have been mixed up
   with other histories, as being on a footing of equality with them. For
   it would have been most unbecoming that this history should be
   commingled with others treating of other things, or pursuing different
   inquiries. But I will now proceed to what remains, and will narrate in
   as few words as I can the acts performed by Judith.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [344] The text here is uncertain.

   [345] "historia divina": the writer applies these words to the book of
   Judith.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   The Jews, then, having returned, as we have narrated above, to their
   native land, and the condition of their affairs and of their city being
   not yet properly settled, the king of the Persians made war on the
   Medes, and engaged in a successful battle against their king, who was
   named Arphaxad. That monarch being slain, he added the nation to his
   empire. He did the same to other nations, having sent before him
   Holofernes whom he had appointed master of his host, with a hundred and
   twenty thousand foot-soldiers, and twelve thousand cavalry. He, after
   having ravaged in war, Cilicia and Arabia, took many cities by force,
   or compelled them through fear to surrender. And now the army, having
   moved on to Damascus, had struck the Jews with great terror. But as
   they were unable to resist, and as, at the same time, they could not
   bring their minds to acquiesce in the thought of surrender, since they
   had previously known from experience the miseries of slavery, they
   betook themselves in crowds to the temple. There, with a general
   groaning and commingled wailing, they implored the divine assistance;
   saying that they had been sufficiently punished by God for their sins
   and offenses; and begging him to spare the remnant of them who had
   recently been delivered from slavery. In the meantime, Holofernes had
   admitted the Moabites to surrender, and joined them to himself as
   allies in the war against the Jews. He inquired of their chief men what
   was the power on which the Hebrews relied in not bringing their minds
   to submit to the thought of submission. In reply, a certain man called
   Achior stated to him the facts, viz.: that the Jews being worshipers of
   God, and trained by their fathers to pious observances, had formerly
   passed through a period of slavery in Egypt, and that, brought out from
   that country by the divine aid, and having passed over on foot the sea
   which was dried up before them, they had at last conquered all the
   opposing nations, and recovered the territory inhabited by their
   ancestors. That subsequently, with various fluctuations in their
   affairs, they had either prospered or the reverse, that, when they did
   sink into adversity, they had again escaped from their sufferings,
   finding that God was, in turn, either angry against them, or reconciled
   towards them, according to their deserts, so that, when they sinned,
   they were chastised by the attacks of enemies or by being sent into
   captivity, but were always unconquerable when they enjoyed the divine
   favor. So then, if at the present time they are free from guilt, they
   cannot possibly be subdued; but if they are otherwise situated, they
   will easily be conquered. Upon this, Holofernes, flushed with many
   victories, and thinking that everything must give way before him, was
   roused to wrath, because victory on his part was regarded as
   principally depending on the sin of the Jews, and ordered Achior to be
   pushed forward into the camp of the Hebrews, that he might perish in
   company with those who he had affirmed could not be conquered. Now, the
   Jews had then made for the mountains; and those to whom the business
   had been assigned, proceeded to the foot of the mountains, and there
   left Achior in chains. When the Jews perceived that, they freed him
   from his bonds and conducted him up the hill. On their inquiring the
   reason of what had happened, he explained it to them, and, being
   received in peace, awaited the result. I may add that, after the
   victory, he was circumcised and became a Jew. Well, Holofernes,
   perceiving the difficulty of the localities, because he could not reach
   the heights, surrounded the mountains with soldiers, and took the
   greatest pains to cut off the Hebrews from all water supplies. On that
   account, they felt all the sooner the misery of a siege. Being
   therefore overcome through want of water, they went in a company to
   Ozias, their leader, all inclined to make a surrender. But he replied
   that they should wait a little, and look for the divine assistance, so
   that the time of surrender was fixed for the fifth day afterwards.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

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

    Chapter XVII.

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

    Chapter XVIII.

   For, first of all, under king Seleucus, the son of Antiochus the great,
   a certain man called Simon accused to the king on false charges Onias
   the priest, a holy and uncorrupted man, and thus tried, but in vain, to
   overthrow him. Then, after an interval of time, Jason, the brother of
   Onias, went to Antiochus the king, who had succeeded his brother
   Seleucus, and promised him an increase of tribute, if the
   high-priesthood were transferred to him. And although it was an
   unusual, and indeed, until now, an unpermitted thing for a man to enjoy
   the high-priesthood year after year, still the eager mind of the king,
   diseased with avarice, was easily persuaded. Accordingly, Onias was
   driven from office, and the priesthood bestowed on Jason. He harassed
   his countrymen and his country in the most shameful manner. Then, as he
   had sent through a certain Menelaus (the brother of that Simon who has
   been mentioned) the money he had promised to the king, a way being once
   laid open to his ambition, Menelaus obtained the priesthood by the same
   arts which Jason had employed before. But not long after, as he had not
   furnished the promised amount of money, he was driven from his
   position, and Lysimachus substituted in his stead. Then there arose
   disgraceful conflicts between Jason and Menelaus, until Jason, as an
   exile, left the country. By examples like these, the morals of the
   people became corrupted to such an extent, that numbers of the natives
   begged permission from Antiochus to live after the fashion of the
   Gentiles. And when the king granted their request, all the most
   worthless vied with each other in their endeavors to construct temples,
   to sacrifice to idols, and to profane the law. In the meantime,
   Antiochus returned from Alexandria (for he had then made war upon the
   king of Egypt, which, however, he gave up by the orders of the senate
   and Roman people, when Paulus and Crassus were consuls), and went to
   Jerusalem. Finding the people at variance from the diverse
   superstitions they had adopted, he destroyed the law of God, and showed
   favor to those who followed impious courses, while he carried off all
   the ornaments of the temple, and wasted it with much destruction. That
   came to pass in the hundred and fiftieth year after the death of
   Alexander, Paulus and Crassus being, as we have said, consuls, about
   five years after Antiochus began to reign.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   But that the order of the dates may be correctly preserved, and that it
   may appear more clearly who this Antiochus was, we shall enumerate both
   the names and times of the kings who came after Alexander in Syria.
   Well, then, king Alexander having died, as we have related above, his
   whole empire was portioned out by his friends, and was governed for
   some time by them under the name of the king. [346] Seleucus, after the
   lapse of nine years, was himself styled king in Syria, and reigned
   thirty-two years. After him came Antiochus, his son, with a reign of
   twenty-one years. Then came Antiochus, the son of Antiochus, who was
   surnamed Theus, and he reigned fifteen years. After him, his son
   Seleucus, surnamed Callinicus, reigned twenty-one years. Another
   Seleucus, the son of Callinicus, reigned three years. After his death
   Antiochus, the brother of Callinicus, held Asia and Syria for
   thirty-seven years. This is the Antiochus against whom Lucius Scipio
   Asiaticus made war; and he, being worsted in the war was stripped of a
   part of his empire. He had two sons, Seleucus and Antiochus, the latter
   of whom he had given as a hostage to the Romans. Thus, then, Antiochus
   the great having died, his younger son Seleucus obtained the kingdom,
   under whom, as we have said, Onias the priest had an accusation brought
   against him by Simon. Then Antiochus was set free by the Romans, and
   there was given in his place as hostage Demetrius, the son of Seleucus,
   who was at that time reigning. Seleucus dying in the twelfth year of
   his reign, his brother Antiochus, who had been a hostage at Rome,
   seized the kingdom. He, five years after the beginning of his reign,
   did, as we have shown above, lay waste Jerusalem. For, as he had to pay
   a heavy tribute to the Romans, he was almost of necessity compelled, in
   order to meet that enormous expense, to provide himself with money by
   rapine, and to neglect no opportunity of plundering. Then, after two
   years, the Jews being again visited by a similar disaster to that which
   they had suffered before, lest it should happen that, driven on by
   their numerous miseries, they should commence war, he placed a garrison
   in the citadel. Next, with the view of overturning the holy law, he
   published an edict, that all, forsaking the traditions of their
   ancestors, should live after the manner of the Gentiles. And there were
   not wanting those who readily obeyed this profane enactment. Then truly
   there was a horrible spectacle presented; through all the cities
   sacrifices were publicly offered in the streets, while the sacred
   volumes of the law and the prophets were consumed with fire.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [346] They did not themselves, for a time, assume the name of king,
   but, as said above, professed to rule under the authority of king
   Arridaeus, brother of Alexander.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   At that time, Matthathias, the son of John, was high-priest. When he
   was being forced by the servants of the king to obey the edict, with
   marvelous courage he set at naught the profane enactments, and slew, in
   the presence of all, a Hebrew who was publicly performing profane acts.
   A leader having thus been found, rebellion at once took place.
   Matthathias left the town; and as many flocked to him, he got up the
   appearance of a regular army. The object of every man in that host was
   to defend himself by arms against a profane government, and rather even
   to fall in war than to take part in impious ceremonies. In the
   meantime, Antiochus was compelling those Jews who were found in the
   Greek cities in his dominions to offer sacrifice, and was visiting with
   unheard-of torments those who refused. At this time, there occurred
   that well-known and remarkable suffering of the seven brothers and
   their mother. All of the brothers, when they were being forced to
   violate the law of God, and the customs of their ancestors, preferred
   rather to die. At last, their mother, too, accompanied them both in
   their sufferings and death.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   In the meantime, Matthathias dies, having appointed in his own place
   his son Judah, as general of the army which he had brought together.
   Under his leadership, several successful battles took place against the
   royal forces. For first of all, he destroyed, along with his whole
   army, Apollonius, the enemy's general, who had entered on the conflict
   with a large number of troops. When a certain man, named Seron, who was
   then the ruler of Syria, heard of this, he increased his forces, and
   attacked Judah with much spirit as being superior in numbers, but when
   a battle took place, he was routed and put to flight; and with the loss
   of nearly eight hundred men, he returned to Syria. On this becoming
   known to Antiochus, he was filled with rage and regret, inasmuch as it
   vexed him that his generals had been conquered, notwithstanding their
   large armies. He therefore gathers aid from his whole empire, and
   bestows a donative on the soldiers, almost to the exhaustion of his
   treasury. For he was then suffering in a very special manner from the
   want of money. The reason of this was, on the one side, that the Jews,
   who had been accustomed to pay him an annual tribute of more than three
   hundred talents of silver, were now in a state of rebellion against
   him; and on the other side, that many of the Greek cities and countries
   were unsettled by the evil of persecution. For Antiochus had not spared
   even the Gentiles, whom he had sought to persuade to abandon their
   long-established superstitions, and to draw over to one kind of
   religious observance. And no doubt, those of them who regarded nothing
   as sacred, easily were induced to give up their ancient forms of
   worship, but at the same time all were in a state of alarm and
   disaster. For these reasons, then, the taxes had ceased to be paid.
   Boiling with wrath on these grounds (for he who had of old been the
   richest of kings now deeply felt the poverty due to his own
   wickedness), he divided his forces with Lysias, and committed to him
   Syria and the war against the Jews, while he himself set out against
   the Persians, to collect the taxes among them. Lysias, then, selected
   Ptolemy, Gorgias, Doro, and Nicanor, as generals in the war; and to
   these he gave forty thousand infantry, and seven thousand cavalry. At
   the first onset these caused great alarm among the Jews. Then Judah,
   when all were in despair, exhorted his men to go with courageous hearts
   to battle--that, if they put their trust in God, everything would give
   way before them; for that often before then the victory had been won by
   a few fighting against many. A fast was proclaimed, and sacrifice was
   offered, after which they went down to battle. The result was that the
   forces of the enemy were scattered, and Judah, taking possession of
   their camp, found in it both much gold and Tyrian treasures. For
   merchants from Syria, having no doubt as to victory, had followed the
   king's army with the hope of purchasing prisoners, and now were
   themselves spoiled. When these things were reported to Lysias by
   messengers, he got together troops with still greater efforts, and in a
   year after again attacked the Jews with an enormous army; but being
   defeated, he retreated to Antioch.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   Judah, on the defeat of the enemy, returned to Jerusalem, and bent his
   mind on the purification and restoration of the temple, which having
   been overthrown by Antiochus, and profaned by the Gentiles, presented a
   melancholy spectacle. But as the Syrians held the citadel, which being
   connected with the temple, but standing above it in position, was
   really impregnable, the lower parts proved inaccessible, as frequent
   sallies from above prevented persons from approaching them. But Judah
   placed against these assailants a very powerful body of his men. Thus
   the work of the sacred building was protected, and the temple was
   surrounded with a wall, while armed men were appointed to maintain a
   perpetual defence. And Lysias, having again returned into Judaea with
   increased forces, was once more defeated with a great loss both of his
   own army and of the auxiliaries, which being sent to him by various
   states had combined with him in the war. In the meantime, Antiochus,
   who, as we have said above, had marched into Persia, endeavored to
   plunder the town of Elymus, the wealthiest in the country, and a temple
   situated there which was filled with gold; but, as a multitude flocked
   together from all sides for the defense of the place, he was put to
   flight. Moreover, he received news of the want of success which had
   attended the efforts of Lysias. [347] Thus, from distress of mind, he
   fell into bodily disease. But as he was then tormented with internal
   sufferings, he remembered the miseries which he had inflicted on the
   people of God, and acknowledged that these evils had deservedly been
   sent upon him. Then, after a few days, he died, having reigned eleven
   years. He left the kingdom to his son Antiochus, to whom the name of
   Eupator was given.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [347] Some add the words, "or of Lysimachus," but this appears to have
   been a gloss.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIII.

   At that time Judah besieged the Syrians who were posted in the citadel.
   They, being sore pressed with famine and want of all things, sent
   messengers to the king to implore assistance. Accordingly, Eupator came
   to their aid with a hundred thousand infantry and twenty thousand
   cavalry, while elephants marched in front of his line, causing immense
   terror to the onlookers. Then Judah, abandoning the siege, went to meet
   the king, and routed the Syrians in the first battle. The king begged
   for peace, which, because [348] he, with his treacherous disposition,
   made a bad use of, vengeance followed his treachery. For Demetrius, the
   son of Seleucus, who, we have said above, was handed over as a hostage
   to the Romans, when he heard that Antiochus had departed, begged that
   they would send him to take possession of the kingdom. And when this
   was refused to him, he secretly fled from Rome, came into Syria, and
   seized the supreme power, having slain the son of Antiochus, who had
   reigned one year and six months. It was during his reign that the Jews
   first begged the friendship of the Roman people, and alliance with
   them; and the embassy to this effect having been kindly received, they
   were, by a decree of the senate, styled allies and friends. In the
   meantime Demetrius was, by means of his generals, carrying on war
   against Judah. And first the army was led by a certain man named
   Bacchides, and by Alcimus, a Jew; Nicanor, being afterwards placed at
   the head of the war, fell in battle. Then Bacchides and Alcimus,
   recovering power, and having increased their forces, fought against
   Judah. The Syrians, turning out victorious in that battle, cruelly
   abused their victory. The Hebrews elect Jonathan, the brother of Judah,
   in his place. In the meantime, Alcimus, after he had fearfully
   desolated Jerusalem, dies; Bacchides, being thus deprived of his ally,
   returns to the king. Then, after an interval of two years, Bacchides
   again made war upon the Jews, and being beaten, he begged for peace.
   This was granted him certain conditions, to the effect that he should
   give up the deserters and prisoners, along with all that he had taken
   in war.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [348] The text is here in utter confusion; we have followed that
   suggested by Vorstius.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIV.

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

    Chapter XXV.

   Demetrius, having thus obtained the kingdom, treated Jonathan with
   kindness, made a treaty with him, and restored the Jews to their own
   laws. In the meantime, Tryphon, who had belonged to the party of
   Alexander, was appointed [349] governor of Syria, to keep him in check
   by war. Jonathan, [350] on the other hand, descended to battle,
   formidable with an army of forty thousand men. Tryphon, when he saw
   himself unequal to the contest, pretended a desire for peace, and slew
   Ptolemais who had been received and invited into friendship with him.
   After Jonathan, the chief power was conferred on his brother Simon. He
   celebrated the funeral of his brother with great pomp, and built those
   well-known seven pyramids of most noble workmanship, in which he buried
   the remains both of his brothers and of his father. Then Demetrius
   renewed his treaty with the Jews; and in consideration of the loss
   caused to them by Tryphon (for after the death of Jonathan he had
   wasted by war their cities and territories), he remitted to them their
   annual tribute forever; for up to that time, they had paid tribute to
   the kings of Syria, except when they resisted by force of arms. That
   took place in the second year of king Demetrius; and we have noted
   that, because up to this year we have run through the times of the
   Asiatic kings, that the series of dates being given in order might be
   perfectly clear. But now we shall arrange the order of events through
   the times of those, who were either high-priests or kings among the
   Jews, up to the period of the birth of Christ.
     __________________________________________________________________

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

   [350] As Vorstius suggests, we have here taken Jonathan as a
   nominative, but the passage is very obscure.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVI.

   Well, then, after Jonathan, his brother Simon, as has been said above,
   ruled over the Hebrews with the power of high-priest. For that honor
   was then bestowed upon him both by his own countrymen and by the Roman
   people. He began to rule over his countrymen in the second year of king
   Demetrius, but eight years afterwards, being deceived by a plot of
   Ptolemy, he met his death. He was succeeded by his son John. And he, on
   the ground that he had fought with distinction against the Hyrcani, a
   very powerful nation, received the surname of Hyrcanus. He died, after
   having held the supreme power for twenty-six years. After him,
   Aristobulus being appointed high-priest, was the first of all living
   after the captivity to assume the name of king, and to have a crown
   placed upon his head. At the close of a year, he died. Then Alexander,
   his son, who was both king and high-priest, reigned twenty-seven years;
   but I have found nothing in his doings worthy of mention, except his
   cruelty. He having left two young sons named Aristobulus and Hyrcanus,
   Salina or Alexandra, his wife, held the sovereignty for three years.
   After his decease, frightful conflicts about the supreme power arose
   between the two brothers. And first of all, Hyrcanus held the
   government; but being by and by defeated by his brother Aristobulus, he
   fled to Pompey. That Roman general, having finished the war with
   Mithridates, and settled Armenia and Pontus, being, in fact, the
   conqueror of all the nations which he had visited, desired to march
   inwards, [351] and to add all the neighboring regions to the Roman
   empire. He therefore inquired into the causes of the war, and the means
   of obtaining [352] the mastery. Accordingly he readily received
   Hyrcanus, and, under his guidance, attacked the Jews; but when the city
   was taken and destroyed, he spared the temple. He sent Aristobulus in
   chains to Rome, and restored the right of the high-priesthood to
   Hyrcanus. Settling the tribute to be paid by the Jews, he placed over
   them as governor a certain Antipater of Askelon. Hyrcanus held the
   chief power for thirty-four years; but while he carried on war against
   the Parthians, he was taken prisoner.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [351] "Introrsum," towards home; another reading is "ultrorsum,"
   farther onwards.

   [352] "vincendi": others read "incendii."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVII.

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

    Chapter XXVIII.

   Luke made known the doings of the apostles up to the time when Paul was
   brought to Rome under the emperor Nero. As to Nero, I shall not say
   that he was the worst of kings, but that he was worthily held the
   basest of all men, and even of wild beasts. It was he who first began a
   persecution; and I am not sure but he will be the last also to carry it
   on, if, indeed, we admit, as many are inclined to believe, that he will
   yet appear immediately before the coming of Antichrist. Our subject
   would induce me to set forth his vices at some length, if it were not
   inconsistent with the purpose of this work to enter upon so vast a
   topic. I content myself with the remark, that he showed himself in
   every way most abominable and cruel, and at length even went so far as
   to be the murderer of his own mother. After this, he also married a
   certain Pythagoras in the style of solemn alliances, the bridal veil
   being put upon the emperor, while the usual dowry, and the marriage
   couch, and wedding torches, and, in short, all the other observances
   were forthcoming--things which even in the case of women, are not
   looked upon without some feeling of modesty. But as to his other
   actions, I doubt whether the description of them would excite greater
   shame or sorrow. He first attempted to abolish the name of Christian,
   in accordance with the fact that vices are always inimical to virtues,
   and that all good men are ever regarded by the wicked as casting
   reproach upon them. For, at that time, our divine religion had obtained
   a wide prevalence in the city. Peter was there executing the office of
   bishop, and Paul, too, after he had been brought to Rome, on appealing
   to Caesar from the unjust judgment of the governor. Multitudes then
   came together to hear Paul, and these, influenced by the truth which
   they were given to know, and by the miracles [353] of the apostles,
   which they then so frequently performed, turned to the worship of God.
   For then took place the well-known and celebrated encounter of Peter
   and Paul with Simon. [354] He, after he had flown up into the air by
   his magical arts, and supported by two demons (with the view of proving
   that he was a god), the demons being put to flight by the prayers of
   the apostles, fell to the earth in the sight of all the people, and was
   dashed to pieces.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [353] "virtutibus."

   [354] Generally spoken of as Simon Magus.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIX.

   In the meantime, the number of the Christians being now very large, it
   happened that Rome was destroyed by fire, while Nero was stationed at
   Antium. But the opinion of all cast the odium of causing the fire upon
   the emperor, and he was believed in this way to have sought for the
   glory of building a new city. And in fact, Nero could not by any means
   he tried escape from the charge that the fire had been caused by his
   orders. He therefore turned the accusation against the Christians, and
   the most cruel tortures were accordingly inflicted upon the innocent.
   Nay, even new kinds of death were invented, so that, being covered in
   the skins of wild beasts, they perished by being devoured by dogs,
   while many were crucified or slain by fire, and not a few were set
   apart for this purpose, that, when the day came to a close, they should
   be consumed to serve for light during the night. In this way, cruelty
   first began to be manifested against the Christians. Afterwards, too,
   their religion was prohibited by laws which were enacted; and by edicts
   openly set forth it was proclaimed unlawful to be a Christian. At that
   time Paul and Peter were condemned to death, the former being beheaded
   with a sword, while Peter suffered crucifixion. And while these things
   went on at Rome, the Jews, not able to endure the injuries they
   suffered under the rule of Festus Florus, began to rebel. Vespasian,
   being sent by Nero against them, with proconsular power, defeated them
   in numerous important battles, and compelled them to flee within the
   walls of Jerusalem. In the meanwhile Nero, now hateful even to himself
   from a consciousness of his crimes, disappears from among [355] men,
   leaving it uncertain whether or not he had laid violent hands upon
   himself: certainly his body was never found. It was accordingly
   believed that, even if he did put an end to himself with a sword, his
   wound was cured, and his life preserved, according to that which was
   written regarding him,--"And his mortal [356] wound was healed,"--to be
   sent forth again near the end of the world, in order that he may
   practice the mystery of iniquity.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [355] "humanis rebus eximitur."

   [356] Rev. xiii. 3.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXX.

   So then, after the departure of Nero, Galba seized the government; and
   ere long, on Galba being slain, Otho secured it. Then Vitellius from
   Gaul, trusting to the armies which he commanded, entered the city, and
   having killed Otho, assumed the sovereignty. This afterwards passed to
   Vespasian, and although that was accomplished by evil means, yet it had
   the good effect of rescuing the state from the hands of the wicked.
   While Vespasian was besieging Jerusalem, he took possession of the
   imperial power; and as the fashion is, he was saluted as emperor by the
   army, with a diadem placed upon his head. He made his son Titus,
   Caesar; and assigned him a portion of the forces, along with the task
   of continuing the siege of Jerusalem. Vespasian set out for Rome, and
   was received with the greatest favor by the senate and people; and
   Vitellius having killed himself, his hold of the sovereign power was
   fully confirmed. The Jews, meanwhile, being closely besieged, as no
   chance either of peace or surrender was allowed them, were at length
   perishing from famine, and the streets began everywhere to be filled
   with dead bodies, for the duty of burying them could no longer be
   performed. Moreover, they ventured on eating all things of the most
   abominable nature, and did not even abstain from human bodies, except
   those which putrefaction had already laid hold of and thus excluded
   from use as food. The Romans, accordingly, rushed in upon the exhausted
   defenders of the city. And it so happened that the whole multitude from
   the country, and from other towns of Judaea, had then assembled for the
   day of the Passover: doubtless, because it pleased God that the impious
   race should be given over to destruction at the very time of the year
   at which they had crucified the Lord. The Pharisees for a time
   maintained their ground most boldly in defense of the temple, and at
   length, with minds obstinately bent on death, they, of their own
   accord, committed themselves to the flames. The number of those who
   suffered death is related to have been eleven hundred thousand, and one
   hundred thousand were taken captive and sold. Titus is said, after
   calling a council, to have first deliberated whether he should destroy
   the temple, a structure of such extraordinary work. For it seemed good
   to some that a sacred edifice, distinguished above all human
   achievements, ought not to be destroyed, inasmuch as, if preserved, it
   would furnish an evidence of Roman moderation, but, if destroyed, would
   serve for a perpetual proof of Roman cruelty. But on the opposite side,
   others and Titus himself thought that the temple ought specially to be
   overthrown, in order that the religion of the Jews and of the
   Christians might more thoroughly be subverted; for that these
   religions, although contrary to each other, had nevertheless proceeded
   from the same authors; that the Christians had sprung up from among the
   Jews; and that, if the root were extirpated, the offshoot would
   speedily perish. Thus, according to the divine will, the minds of all
   being inflamed, the temple was destroyed, three hundred and thirty-one
   years ago. And this last overthrow of the temple, and final captivity
   of the Jews, by which, being exiles from their native land, they are
   beheld scattered through the whole world, furnish a daily demonstration
   to the world, that they have been punished on no other account than for
   the impious hands which they laid upon Christ. For though on other
   occasions they were often given over to captivity on account of their
   sins, yet they never paid the penalty of slavery beyond a period of
   seventy years.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXI.

   Then, after an interval, Domitian, the son of Vespasian, persecuted the
   Christians. At this date, he banished John the Apostle and Evangelist
   to the island of Patmos. There he, secret mysteries having been
   revealed to him, wrote and published his book of the holy Revelation,
   which indeed is either foolishly or impiously not accepted by many. And
   with no great interval there then occurred the third persecution under
   Trajan. But he, when after torture and racking he found nothing in the
   Christians worthy of death or punishment, forbade any further cruelty
   to be put forth against them. Then under Adrian the Jews attempted to
   rebel, and endeavored to plunder both Syria and Palestine; but on an
   army being sent against them, they were subdued. At this time Adrian,
   thinking that he would destroy the Christian faith by inflicting an
   injury upon the place, set up the images of demons both in the temple
   and in the place where the Lord suffered. And because the Christians
   were thought principally to consist of Jews (for the church at
   Jerusalem did not then have a priest except of the circumcision), he
   ordered a cohort of soldiers to keep constant guard in order to prevent
   all Jews from approaching to Jerusalem. This, however, rather benefited
   [357] the Christian faith, because almost all then believed in Christ
   as God while continuing [358] in the observance of the law. Undoubtedly
   that was arranged by the over-ruling care of the Lord, in order that
   the slavery of the law might be taken away from the liberty of the
   faith and of the church. In this way, Mark from among the Gentiles was
   then, first of all, bishop at Jerusalem. A fourth persecution is
   reckoned as having taken place under Adrian, which, however, he
   afterwards forbade to be carried on, declaring it to be unjust that any
   one should be put on his trial without a charge being specified against
   him.
     __________________________________________________________________

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

   [358] These were half-Jews and half-Christians, and were known at a
   later date under the name of Nazarites. They made use of what was
   called the Gospel according to the Hebrews.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXII.

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

    Chapter XXXIII.

   Well, the end of the persecutions was reached eighty-eight years ago,
   at which date the emperors began to be Christians. For Constantine then
   obtained the sovereignty, and he was the first Christian of all the
   Roman rulers. At that time, it is true, Licinius, who was a rival of
   Constantine for the empire, had commanded his soldiers to sacrifice,
   and was expelling from the service those who refused to do so. But that
   is not reckoned among the persecutions; it was an affair of too little
   moment to be able to inflict any wound upon the churches. From that
   time, we have continued to enjoy tranquillity; nor do I believe that
   there will be any further persecutions, except that which Antichrist
   will carry on just before the end of the world. For it has been
   proclaimed in divine words, that the world was to be visited by ten
   afflictions; [359] and since nine of these have already been endured,
   the one which remains must be the last. During this period of time, it
   is marvelous how the Christian religion has prevailed. For Jerusalem
   which had presented a horrible mass of ruins was then adorned with most
   numerous and magnificent churches. And Helena, the mother of the
   emperor Constantine (who reigned along with her son as Augusta), having
   a strong desire to behold Jerusalem, cast down the idols and the
   temples which were found there; and in course of time, through the
   exercise of her royal powers, she erected churches [360] on the site of
   the Lord's passion, resurrection, and ascension. It is a remarkable
   fact that the spot on which the divine footprints had last been left
   when the Lord was carried up in a cloud to heaven, could not be joined
   by a pavement with the remaining part of the street. For the earth,
   unaccustomed to mere human contact, rejected all the appliances laid
   upon it, and often threw back the blocks of marble in the faces of
   those who were seeking to place them. Moreover, it is an enduring proof
   of the soil of that place having been trodden by God, that the
   footprints are still to be seen; and although the faith of those who
   daily flock to that place, leads them to vie with each other in seeking
   to carry away what had been trodden by the feet of the Lord, yet the
   sand of the place suffers no injury; and the earth still preserves the
   same appearance which it presented of old, as if it had been sealed by
   the footprints impressed upon it.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [359] "decem plagis."

   [360] "basilicas": edifices, which, in size and grandeur, had some
   resemblance to a royal palace.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXIV.

   Through the kind efforts of the same queen, the cross of the Lord was
   then found. It could not, of course, be consecrated at the beginning,
   owing to the opposition of the Jews, and afterwards it had been covered
   over by the rubbish of the ruined city. And now, it would never have
   been revealed except to one seeking for it in such a believing spirit.
   Accordingly, Helena having first got information about the place of our
   Lord's passion, caused a band of soldiers to be brought [361] to it,
   while the whole multitude of the inhabitants of the locality vied with
   each other in seeking to gratify the desires of the queen, and ordered
   the earth to be dug up, and all the adjacent most extensive ruins to be
   cleared out. Ere long, as the reward of her faith and labor, three
   crosses (as of old they had been fixed for the Lord and the two
   robbers) were discovered. But upon this, the greater difficulty of
   distinguishing the gibbet on which the Lord had hung, disturbed the
   minds and thoughts of all, lest by a mistake, likely enough to be
   committed by mere mortals, they might perhaps consecrate as the cross
   of the Lord, that which belonged to one of the robbers. They form then
   the plan of placing one who had recently died in contact with the
   crosses. Nor is there any delay in carrying out this purpose; for just
   as if by the appointment of God, the funeral of a dead man was then
   being conducted with the usual ceremonies, and all rushing up took the
   body from the bier. It was applied in vain to the first two crosses,
   but when it touched that of Christ, wonderful to tell, while all stood
   trembling, the dead body was [362] shaken off, and stood up in the
   midst of those looking at it. The cross was thus discovered, and was
   consecrated with all due ceremony. [363]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [361] "admota militari manu atque omnium provincialium multitudine in
   studia reginae certantium."

   [362] "funus excussum": a singular expression.

   [363] "ambitu": apparently used here with the meaning which sometimes
   belongs to "ambitione."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXV.

   Such were the things accomplished by Helena, while, under a Christian
   prince, the world had both attained to liberty, and possessed in him an
   exemplar of faith. But a far more dreadful danger than all that had
   preceded fell upon all the churches from that state of tranquillity.
   For then the Arian heresy burst forth, and disturbed the whole world by
   the error which it instilled. For by means of the two [364] Ariuses,
   who were the most active originators of this unfaithfulness, the
   emperor himself was led astray; and while he seemed to himself to
   fulfill a religious duty, he proceeded to a violent exercise of
   persecution. The bishops were driven into exile: cruelty was exerted
   against the clerics; and even the laity were punished, who had
   separated from the communion of the Arians. Now, the doctrines which
   the Arians proclaimed were of the following nature,--that God the
   Father had begotten his Son for the purpose of creating the world; and
   that, by his power, he had made [365] out of nothing into a new and
   second substance, a new and second God; and that there was a time when
   the Son had no existence. To meet this evil, a synod was convened from
   the whole world to meet at Nicaea. Three hundred and eighteen bishops
   were there assembled: the faith was fully set forth in writing; the
   Arian heresy was condemned; and the emperor confirmed the whole by an
   imperial decree. The Arians, then, not daring to make any further
   attempt against the orthodox faith, mixed themselves among the
   churches, as if they acquiesced in the conclusions which had been
   reached, and did not hold any different opinions. There remained,
   however, in their hearts, a deep-seated hatred against the Catholics,
   and they assailed, with suborned accusers and trumped-up charges, those
   with whom they could not contend in argument on matters of faith.
     __________________________________________________________________

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

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

    Chapter XXXVI.

   Accordingly, they first attack and condemn in his absence Athanasius,
   bishop of Alexandria, a holy man, who had been present as deacon at the
   Synod of Nicaea. For they added to the charges which false witnesses
   had heaped up against him, this one, that, with wicked intentions, he
   had received [366] Marcellus and Photinus, heretical priests who had
   been condemned by a sentence of the Synod. Now, it was not doubtful as
   to Photinus that he had been justly condemned. But in the case of
   Marcellus, it seemed that nothing had then been found worthy of
   condemnation, and [367] a belief in his innocence was above all
   strengthened by the animus of that party, inasmuch as no one doubted
   that those same judges were heretical by whom he had been condemned.
   But the Arians did not so much desire to get these persons out of the
   way as Athanasius himself. Accordingly, they constrain the emperor to
   go so far as this, that Athanasius should be sent as an exile into
   Gaul. But ere long, eighty bishops, assembling together in Egypt,
   declare that Athanasius had been unjustly condemned. The matter is
   referred to Constantine: he orders [368] bishops from the whole world
   to assemble at Sardes, and that the entire process by which Athanasius
   had been condemned, should be reconsidered by the council. In the
   meantime, Constantine dies, but the Synod, called together while he was
   yet emperor, acquits Athanasius. Marcellus, too, is restored to his
   bishopric, but the sentence on Photinus, bishop of Sirmion, was not
   rescinded; for even [369] in the judgment of our friends, he is
   regarded as a heretic. However, even this result chagrined Marcellus,
   because Photinus was known to have been his disciple in his youth. But
   this, too, tended to secure an acquittal for Athanasius, that Ursatius
   and Valens, leading men among the Arians, when they were openly
   separated from the communion of the Church after the Synod at Sardes,
   entering into the presence of Julius, bishop of Rome, asked pardon of
   him for having condemned the innocent, and publicly declared that he
   had been justly acquitted by the decree of the Council of Sardes.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [366] Different periods and events are here mixed up by our author.

   [367] The text is in utter confusion, and we can only make a probable
   guess at the meaning.

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

   [369] "qui etiam nostrorum judicio haereticus probatur."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXVII.

   When, after an interval of some time had elapsed, Athanasius, finding
   that Marcellus was by no means sound in the faith, suspended him from
   communion. And he had this degree of modesty, that, being censured by
   the judgment of so great a man, he voluntarily gave way. But though at
   a former period innocent, yet confessedly afterwards becoming
   heretical, it may be allowed to conclude that he was really then guilty
   when judgment was pronounced regarding him. The Arians, then, finding
   an opportunity of that kind, conspire to subvert altogether the decrees
   of the Synod of Sardes. For a certain coloring of right seemed to be
   furnished them in this fact, that a favorable judgment had as unjustly
   been formed on the side of Athanasius, as Marcellus had been improperly
   acquitted, since now, even in the opinion of Athanasius himself, he was
   deemed a heretic. For Marcellus had stood forward as an upholder of the
   Sabellian heresy. [370] But Photinus had already brought forward a new
   heresy, differing indeed from Sabellius with respect to the union of
   the divine persons, but proclaiming that Christ had his beginning in
   Mary. The Arians, therefore, with cunning design, mix up what was
   harmless with what was blameworthy, and embrace, under the same
   judgment, the condemnation of Photinus, and Marcellus, and Athanasius.
   They undoubtedly did this with the view of leading the minds of the
   ignorant to conclude, that those had not judged incorrectly regarding
   Athanasius, who, it was admitted, had expressed a well-based opinion
   respecting Marcellus and Photinus. At that time, however, the Arians
   concealed their treachery; and not daring openly to proclaim their
   erroneous doctrines, they professed themselves Catholics. They thought
   that their first great object should be to get Athanasius turned out of
   the church, who had always presented a wall of opposition to their
   endeavors, and they hoped that, if he were removed, the rest would pass
   over to their evil [371] opinion. Now, that part of the bishops which
   followed the Arians accepted the condemnation of Athanasius with
   delight. Another part, constrained by fear and faction, yielded to the
   wish of the Arian party; and only a few, to whom the true faith was
   dearer than any other consideration, refused to accept their unjust
   judgment. Among these was Paulinus, the bishop of Treves. It is related
   that he, when a letter on the subject was placed before him, thus
   wrote, that he gave his consent to the condemnation of Photinus and
   Marcellus, but did not approve that of Athanasius.
     __________________________________________________________________

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

   [371] "libidinem."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXVIII.

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

    Chapter XXXIX.

   From this first proof that the prince had been won over to their side,
   the Arians plucked up their courage, knowing that they could make use
   of the power of the king, when they could make little impression by
   their own authority. Accordingly, when our friends did not accept of
   the judgment which they had pronounced in regard to Athanasius, an
   edict was issued by the emperor to the effect that those who did not
   subscribe to the condemnation of Athanasius should be sent into
   banishment. But, at that time, councils of bishops were held by our
   friends at Arles and Bitterae, towns situated in Gaul. They requested
   that before any were compelled to subscribe against Athanasius, they
   should rather enter on a discussion as to the true faith; and
   maintained that only then was a decision to be come to respecting the
   point in question, when they had agreed as to the person of the judges.
   [372] But Valens and his confederates not venturing on a discussion
   respecting the faith, first desired to secure by force the condemnation
   of Athanasius. Owing to this conflict of parties, Paulinus was driven
   into banishment. In the meantime, an assembly was held at Milan, where
   the emperor then was; but the same controversy was there continued
   without any relaxation of its bitterness. Then Eusebius, bishop of the
   Vercellenses, and Lucifer, bishop of Caralis [373] in Sardinia, were
   exiled. Dionysius, however, priest of Milan, subscribed to the
   condemnation of Athanasius, on the condition that there should be an
   investigation among the bishops as to the true faith. But Valens and
   Ursatius, with the rest of that party, through fear of the people, who
   maintained the Catholic faith with extraordinary enthusiasm, did not
   venture to set forth in public their monstrous [374] doctrines, but
   assembled within the palace. From that place, and under the name of the
   emperor, they issued a letter full [375] of all sorts of wickedness,
   with this purpose, no doubt, that, if the people gave it a favorable
   hearing, they should then bring forward, under public authority, the
   things which they desired; but if it should be received otherwise, that
   all the ill feeling might be directed against the king, while his
   mistake might be regarded as excusable, because being then only a
   catechumen, he might readily be supposed to have erred concerning the
   mysteries of the faith. Well, when the letter was read in the church,
   the people expressed their aversion to it. And Dionysius, because he
   did not concur with them, was banished from the city, while Auxentius
   was immediately chosen as bishop in his place. Liberius, too, bishop of
   the city of Rome, and Hilarius, bishop of Poictiers, were driven into
   exile. Rhodanius, also, bishop of Toulouse (who, being by nature of a
   softer disposition, had resisted the Arians, not so much from his own
   powers as from his fellowship with Hilarius) was involved in the same
   punishment. All these persons, however, were prepared to suspend
   Athanasius from communion, only in order that an inquiry might be
   instituted among the bishops as to the true faith. But it seemed best
   to the Arians to withdraw the most celebrated men from the controversy.
   Accordingly, those whom we have mentioned above were driven into exile,
   forty-five years ago, when Arbitio and Lollianus were consuls.
   Liberius, however, was, a little afterwards, restored to the city, in
   consequence of the disturbances at Rome. But it is well known that the
   persons exiled were celebrated by the admiration of the whole world,
   and that abundant supplies of money were collected to meet their wants,
   while they were visited by deputies of the Catholic people from almost
   all the provinces.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [372] The text is here in utter confusion and uncertainty. Some for "ac
   tum" read "nec tum," and some, instead of "judicum" read "judicium."
   The meaning therefore can only be guessed at.

   [373] The modern Cagliari.

   [374] "Piacula profiteri."

   [375] Instead of "refertam," some read "infectam."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XL.

   In the meantime, the Arians, not secretly, as before, but openly and
   publicly proclaimed their monstrous heretical doctrines. Moreover, they
   interpreted after their own views the Synod of Nicaea, and by the
   addition of one letter to its finding, threw a sort of obscurity over
   the truth. For where the expression Homoousion had been written, which
   denotes "of one substance," they maintained that it was written
   Homoiousion, which simply means "of like substance." They thus granted
   a likeness, but took away unity; for likeness is very different from
   unity; just as, for illustration's sake, a picture of a human body
   might be like a man, and yet possess nothing of the reality of a man.
   But some of them went even farther, and maintained Anomoiousia, that
   is, an unlike substance. And to such a pitch did these controversies
   extend, that the wide world was involved in these monstrous errors. For
   Valens and Ursatius, with their supporters, whose names we have stated,
   infected Italy, Illyria, and the East with these opinions. Saturninus,
   bishop of Arles, a violent and factious man, harassed our country of
   Gaul in like manner. There was also a prevalent belief that Osius from
   Spain had gone over to the same unfaithful party, which appears all the
   more wonderful and incredible on this account, that he had been, almost
   during his whole life, the most determined upholder of our views, and
   the Synod of Nice was regarded as having been held at his instigation.
   If he did go over, the reason may have been that in his extreme old age
   (for he was then more than a centenarian, as St. Hilarius relates in
   his epistles) he had fallen into dotage. While the world was disturbed
   by these things, and the churches were languishing as if from a sort of
   disease, an anxiety, less exciting indeed, but no less serious, pressed
   upon the emperor, that although the Arians, whom he favored, appeared
   the stronger, yet there was still no agreement among the bishops
   concerning the faith.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLI.

   Accordingly, the emperor orders a Synod to assemble at Ariminum, a city
   of Italy, and instructs Taurus the prefect, not to let them separate,
   after they were once assembled, until they should agree as to one
   faith, at the same time promising him the consulship, if he carried the
   affair to a successful termination. Imperial [376] officers, therefore,
   being sent through Illyria, Italy, Africa, and the two Gauls, four
   hundred and rather more Western bishops were summoned or compelled to
   assemble at Ariminum; and for all of these the emperor had ordered
   provisions [377] and lodgings to be provided. But that appeared
   unseemly to the men of our part of the world, that is, to the
   Aquitanians, the Gauls, and Britons, so that refusing the public
   supplies, they preferred to live at their own expense. Three only of
   those from Britain, through want of means of their own, made use of the
   public bounty, after having refused contributions offered by the rest;
   for they thought it more dutiful to burden the public treasury than
   individuals. I have heard that Gavidius, our bishop, was accustomed to
   refer to this conduct in a censuring sort of way, but I would be
   inclined to judge far otherwise; and I hold it matter of admiration
   that the bishops had nothing of their own, while they did not accept
   assistance from others rather than from the public treasury, so that
   they burdened nobody. In both points, they thus furnished us with noble
   example. Nothing worthy of mention is recorded of the others; but I
   return to the subject in hand. After all the bishops had been collected
   together, as we have said, a separation of parties took place. Our
   friends [378] take possession of the church, while the Arians select,
   as a place for prayer, a temple which was then intentionally standing
   empty. But these did not amount to more than eighty persons: the rest
   belonged to our party. Well, after frequent meetings had been held,
   nothing was really accomplished, our friends continuing in the faith,
   and the others not abandoning their unfaithfulness. At length it was
   resolved to send ten deputies to the emperor, that he might learn what
   was the faith or opinion of the parties, and might know that there
   could be no peace with heretics. The Arians do the same thing, and send
   a like number of deputies, who should contend with our friends in the
   presence of the emperor. But on the part of our people, young men of
   but little learning and little prudence had been selected; while, on
   the side of the Arians, old men were sent, skillful and abounding in
   talent, thoroughly imbued, too, with their old unfaithful doctrines;
   and these easily got the upper hand with the prince. But our friends
   had been specially charged not to enter into any kind of communion with
   the Arians, and to reserve every point, in its entirety, for discussion
   in a Synod.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [376] "magistris officialibus": Halm reads "magistri."

   [377] "annonas et cellaria."

   [378] Of course, the Catholics, or orthodox.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLII.

   In the meantime in the East, after the example of the West, the emperor
   ordered almost all the bishops to assemble at Seleucia, a town of
   Isauria. At that time, Hilarius, who was now spending the fourth year
   of his exile in Phrygia, is compelled to be present among the other
   bishops, the means of a public conveyance being furnished to him by the
   lieutenant [379] and governor. As, however, the emperor had given no
   special orders regarding him, the judges, simply following the general
   order by which they were commanded to gather all bishops to the
   council, sent him also among the rest who were willing to go. This was
   done, as I imagine, by the special ordination of God, in order that a
   man who was most deeply instructed in divine things, might be present
   when a discussion was to be carried on respecting the faith. He, on
   arriving at Seleucia, was received with great favor, and drew the minds
   and affections of all towards himself. His first inquiry was as to the
   real faith of the Gauls, because at that time the Arians had spread
   evil reports regarding us, and we were held suspected by the Easterns
   as having embraced the belief of Sabellius, to the effect that the
   unity of the one God was simply distinguished [380] by a threefold
   name. But after he had set forth his faith in harmony with those
   conclusions which had been reached by the fathers at Nicaea, he bore
   his testimony in favor of the Westerns. Thus the minds of all having
   been satisfied, he was admitted to communion, and being also received
   into alliance, was added to the council. They then proceeded to actual
   work, and the originators of the wicked heresy being discovered, were
   separated from the body of the Church. In that number were Georgius of
   Alexandria, Acacius, Eudoxius, Vranius, Leontius, Theodosius, Evagrius,
   Theodulus. But when the Synod was over, an embassy was appointed to go
   to the emperor and make him acquainted with what had been done. Those
   who had been condemned also went to the prince, relying upon the power
   of their confederates, and a common cause with the monarch.
     __________________________________________________________________

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

   [380] "trionymam solitarii Dei unionem": Hornius here remarks that
   "Sabellius believed that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit were
   the same, and differed among themselves only in name."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLIII.

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

    Chapter XLIV.

   But these, the fewer they became, showed themselves all the more
   powerful; as the most steadfast among them was to be reckoned our
   friend Foegadius, and Servatio, bishop of the Tungri. As these had not
   yielded to threats and terrors, Taurus assails them with entreaties,
   and beseeches them with tears to adopt milder counsels. He argued that
   the bishops were now in the seventh month since they had been shut up
   within one city--that no hope of returning home presented itself to
   them, worn out by the inclemency of winter and positive want; and what
   then would be the end? He urged them to follow the example of the
   majority, and to derive authority for so doing at least from the
   numbers who had preceded them. For Foegadius openly declared that he
   was prepared for banishment, and for every kind of punishment that
   might be assigned him, but would not accept that confession of faith
   which had been drawn up by the Arians. Thus several days passed in this
   sort of discussion. And when they made little progress towards a
   pacification, by degrees Foegadius began to yield, and at the last was
   overcome by a proposal which was made to him. For Valens and Ursatius
   affirmed that the present confession of faith was drawn up on the lines
   of Catholic doctrine, and having been brought forward by the Easterns
   at the instigation of the emperor, could not be rejected without
   impiety; and what possible end of strife could there be if a confession
   which satisfied the Easterns was rejected by those of the West?
   Finally, if there appeared anything less fully stated in the present
   confession than was desirable, they themselves should add what they
   thought ought to be added, and that they, for their part, would
   acquiesce in those things which might be added. This friendly
   profession was received with favorable minds by all. Nor did our people
   venture any longer to make opposition, desiring as they did in some way
   or other now to put an end to the business. Then confessions drawn up
   by Foegadius and Servatio began to be published; and in these first
   Arius and his whole unfaithful scheme was condemned, while the Son of
   God also was [381] pronounced equal to the Father, and without
   beginning, [that is] without any commencement [382] in time. Then
   Valens, as if assisting our friends, subjoined the statement (in which
   there lurked a secret guile) that the Son of God was not a creature
   like the other creatures; and the deceit involved in this declaration
   escaped the notice of the hearers. For in these words, in which the Son
   was denied to be like the other creatures, he was nevertheless
   pronounced a creature, only superior to the rest. Thus neither party
   could hold that it had wholly conquered or had wholly been conquered,
   since the confession itself was in favor of the Arians, but the
   declarations afterwards added were in favor of our friends. That one,
   however, must be excepted which Valens had subjoined, and which, not
   being at the time understood, was at length comprehended when it was
   too late. In this way, at any rate, the council was brought to an end,
   a council which had a good beginning but a disgraceful conclusion.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [381] The text is very uncertain; we have followed that of Halm, but
   the common text inserts a "non," and reads thus: "but the Son of God is
   not pronounced equal to the Father, and without beginning," etc.

   [382] "sine tempore."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLV.

   Thus, then, the Arians, with their affairs in a very flourishing
   condition, and everything turning out according to their wishes, go in
   a body to Constantinople where the emperor was. There they found the
   deputies from the Synod of Seleucia, and compel them by an exercise of
   the royal power to follow the example of the Westerns, and accept that
   heretical confession of faith. Numbers who refused were tortured with
   painful imprisonment and hunger, so that at length they yielded their
   conscience captive. But many who resisted more courageously, being
   deprived of their bishoprics, were driven into exile, and others
   substituted in their place. Thus, the best priests being either
   terrified by threats, or driven into exile, all gave way before the
   unfaithfulness of a few. Hilarius was there at the time, having
   followed the deputies from Seleucia; and as no certain orders had been
   given regarding him, he was waiting on the will of the emperor to see
   whether perchance he should be ordered to return into banishment. When
   he perceived the extreme danger into which the faith had been brought,
   inasmuch as the Westerns had been beguiled, and the Easterns were being
   overcome by means of wickedness, he, in three papers publicly
   presented, begged an audience of the king, in order that he might
   debate on points of faith in the presence of his adversaries. But the
   Arians opposed that to the utmost extent of their ability. Finally,
   Hilarius was ordered to return to Gaul, as being a sower [383] of
   discord, and a troubler of the East, while the sentence of exile
   against him remained uncanceled. But when he had wandered over almost
   the whole earth which was infected with the evil of unfaithfulness, his
   mind was full of doubt and deeply agitated with the mighty burden of
   cares which pressed upon it. Perceiving that it seemed good to many not
   to enter into communion with those who had acknowledged the Synod of
   Ariminum, he thought the best thing he could do was to bring back all
   to repentance and reformation. In frequent councils within Gaul, and
   while almost all the bishops publicly owned the error that had been
   committed, he condemns the proceedings at Ariminum, and frames anew the
   faith of the churches after its pristine form. Saturninus, however,
   bishop of Arles, who was, in truth, a very bad man, of an evil and
   corrupt character, resisted these sound measures. He was, in fact, a
   man who, besides the infamy of being a heretic, was convicted of many
   unspeakable crimes, and cast out of the Church. Thus, having lost its
   leader, the strength of the party opposed to Hilarius was broken.
   Paternus also of Petrocorii, [384] equally infatuated, and not
   shrinking from openly professing unfaithfulness, was expelled from the
   priesthood: pardon was extended to the others. This fact is admitted by
   all, that our regions of Gaul were set free from the guilt of heresy
   through the kind efforts of Hilarius alone. But Lucifer, who was then
   at Antioch held a very different opinion. For he condemned those who
   assembled at Ariminum to such an extent, that he even separated himself
   from the communion of those who had received them as friends, after
   they had made satisfaction or exhibited penitence. Whether this
   resolution of his was right or wrong, I will not take upon me to say.
   Paulinus and Rhodanius died in Phrygia; Hilarius died in his native
   country in the sixth year after his return.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [383] "seminarium": lit. seed-plot.

   [384] The modern Perigueux.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLVI.

   There follow the times of our own day, both difficult and dangerous. In
   these the churches have been defiled with no ordinary evil, and all
   things thrown into confusion. For then, for the first time, the
   infamous heresy of the Gnostics was detected in Spain--a deadly [385]
   superstition which concealed itself under mystic [386] rites. The
   birthplace of that mischief was the East, and specially Egypt, but from
   what beginnings it there sprang up and increased is not easy to
   explain. Marcus was the first to introduce it into Spain, having set
   out from Egypt, his birthplace being Memphis. His pupils were a certain
   Agape, a woman of no mean origin, and a rhetorician named Helpidius. By
   these again Priscillian was instructed, a man of noble birth, of great
   riches, bold, restless, eloquent, learned through much reading, very
   ready at debate and discussion--in fact, altogether a happy man, if he
   had not ruined an excellent intellect by wicked studies. Undoubtedly,
   there were to be seen in him many admirable qualities both of mind and
   body. He was able to spend much time in watchfulness, and to endure
   both hunger and thirst; he had little desire for amassing wealth, and
   he was most economical in the use of it. But at the same time he was a
   very vain man, and was much more puffed up than he ought to have been
   with the knowledge of mere earthly [387] things: moreover, it was
   believed that he had practised magical arts from his boyhood. He, after
   having himself adopted the pernicious system referred to, drew into its
   acceptance many persons of noble rank and multitudes of the common
   people by the arts of persuasion and flattery which he possessed.
   Besides this, women who were fond of novelties and of unstable faith,
   as well as of a prurient curiosity in all things, flocked to him in
   crowds. It increased this tendency that he exhibited, a kind of
   humility in his countenance and manner, and thus excited in all a
   greater honor and respect for himself. And now by degrees the wasting
   disorder of that heresy [388] had pervaded the most of Spain, and even
   some of the bishops came under its depraving influence. Among these,
   Instantius and Salvianus had taken up the cause of Priscillian, not
   only by expressing their concurrence in his views, but even by binding
   themselves to him with a kind of oath. This went on until Hyginus,
   bishop of Cordova, who dwelt in the vicinity, found out how matters
   stood, and reported the whole to Ydacius, priest of Emerita. But he, by
   harassing Instantius and his confederates without measure, and beyond
   what the occasion called for, applied, as it were, a torch to the
   growing conflagration, so that he rather exasperated than suppressed
   these evil men.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [385] "superstitio exitiabilis": the very words which Tacitus employs,
   when speaking of Christianity itself (Annal. xv. 44).

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

   [387] "profanarum rerum."

   [388] "perfidiae istius."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLVII.

   So, then, after many controversies among them, which are not worthy of
   mention, a Synod was assembled at Saragossa, at which even the
   Aquitanian bishops were present. But the heretics did not venture to
   submit themselves to the judgment of the council; sentence, however,
   was passed against them in their absence, and Instantius and Salvianus,
   bishops, with Helpidius and Priscillian, laymen, were condemned. It was
   also added that if any one should admit the condemned persons to
   communion, he should understand that the same sentence would be
   pronounced against himself. And the duty was entrusted to Ithacius,
   bishop of Sossuba, of seeing that the decree of the bishops was brought
   to the knowledge of all, and that Hyginus especially should be excluded
   from communion, who, though he had been the first to commence open
   proceedings against the heretics, had afterwards fallen away shamefully
   and admitted them to communion. In the meantime, Instantius and
   Salvianus, having been condemned by the judgment of the priests,
   appoint as bishop in the town of Arles, Priscillian, a layman indeed,
   but the leader in all these troubles, and who had been condemned along
   with themselves in the Synod at Saragossa. This they did with the view
   of adding to their strength, doubtless imagining that, if they armed
   with sacerdotal authority a man of bold and subtle character, they
   would find themselves in a safer position. But then Ydacius and
   Ithacius pressed forward their measures more ardently, in the belief
   that the mischief might be suppressed at its beginning. With unwise
   counsels, however, they applied to secular judges, that by their
   decrees and prosecutions the heretics might be expelled from the
   cities. Accordingly, after many disgraceful squabbles, a rescript was,
   on the entreaty of Ydacius, obtained from Gratianus, who was then
   emperor, in virtue of which all heretics were enjoined not only to
   leave churches or cities, but to be driven forth beyond all the
   territory under [389] his jurisdiction. When this edict became known,
   the Gnostics, distrusting their own affairs, did not venture to oppose
   the judgment, but those of them who bore the name of bishops gave way
   of their own accord, while fear scattered the rest.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [389] The text has merely "extra omnes terras."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLVIII.

   And then Instantius, Salvianus, and Priscillian set out for Rome, in
   order that before Damasus who was at that time the bishop of the city,
   they might clear themselves of the charges brought against them. Well,
   their journey led them through the heart of Aquitania, and being there
   received with great pomp by such as knew no better, they spread the
   seeds of their heresy. Above all, they perverted by their evil
   teachings the people of Elusa, who were then of a good and religious
   disposition. They were driven forth from Bordeaux by Delfinus, yet
   lingering for a little while in the territory of Euchrotia, [390] they
   infected some with their errors. They then pursued the journey on which
   they had entered, attended by a base and shameful company, among whom
   were their wives and even strange women. In the number of these was
   Euchrotia and her daughter Procula, of the latter of whom there was a
   common report that, when pregnant through adultery with Priscillian,
   she procured abortion by the use of certain plants. When they reached
   Rome with the wish of clearing themselves before Damasus, they were not
   even admitted to his presence. Returning to Milan, they found that
   Ambrose was equally opposed to them. Then they changed their plans,
   with the view that, as they had not got the better of the two bishops,
   who were at that time possessed of the highest authority, they might,
   by bribery and flattery, obtain what they desired from the emperor.
   Accordingly, having won over Macedonius, who was the master [391] of
   public services, they procured a rescript, by which, those decrees
   which had formerly been made being trampled under foot, they were
   ordered to be restored to their churches. Relying upon this, Instantius
   and Priscillian made their wayback to Spain (for Salvianus had died in
   the city); and they then, without any struggle, recovered the churches
   over which they had ruled.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [390] Some read Euchrocia, and so afterwards.

   [391] "magistro officiorum."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLIX.

   But the power, not the will, to resist, failed Ithacius; for the
   heretics had won over by bribes Voluentius, the proconsul, and thus
   consolidated their own power. Moreover, Ithacius was put on his trial,
   by these men as being a disturber of the churches, and he having been
   ordered as the result of a fierce prosecution, to be carried off [392]
   as a prisoner, fled in terror into Gaul, where he betook himself to
   Gregory the prefect. He, after he learned what had taken place, orders
   the authors of these tumults to be brought before himself, and makes a
   report on all that had occurred to the emperor, in order that he might
   close against the heretics every means of flattery or bribery. But that
   was done in vain; because, through the licentiousness and power of a
   few, all things were there to be purchased. Accordingly, the heretics
   by their artifices, having presented Macedonius with a large sum of
   money, secure that, by the imperial authority, the hearing of the trial
   was taken from the prefect, and transferred to the lieutenant in Spain.
   By that time, the Spaniards had ceased to have a proconsul as ruler,
   and officials were sent by the Master to bring back to Spain Ithacius
   who was then living at Treves. He, however, craftily escaped them, and
   being subsequently defended by the bishop Pritannius, he set them at
   defiance. Then, too, a faint [393] rumor had spread that Maximus had
   assumed imperial power in Britain, and would, in a short time, make an
   incursion into Gaul. Accordingly, Ithacius then resolved, although his
   affairs were in a ticklish state, to wait the arrival of the new
   emperor; and that, in the meantime, no step should on his part be
   taken. When therefore Maximus, as victor, entered the town of the
   Treveri, he poured forth entreaties full of ill-will and accusations
   against Priscillian and his confederates. The emperor influenced by
   these statements sent letters to the prefect of Gaul and to the
   lieutenant in Spain, ordering that all whom that disgraceful [394]
   heresy had affected should be brought to a Synod at Bordeaux.
   Accordingly, Instantius and Priscillian were escorted thither and, of
   these, Instantius was enjoined to plead his cause; and after he was
   found unable to clear himself, he was pronounced unworthy of the office
   of a bishop. But Priscillian, in order that he might avoid being heard
   by the bishops, appealed to the emperor. And that was permitted to be
   done through the want of resolution on the part of our friends, who
   ought either to have passed a sentence even against one who resisted
   it, or, if they were regarded as themselves suspicious persons, should
   have reserved the hearing for other bishops, and should not have
   transferred to the emperor a cause involving such manifest offences.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [392] This appears to be the meaning, but the text is obscure.

   [393] "clemens": some read "Clementen," and join it with "Maximum."

   [394] "labes illa."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter L.

   Thus, then, all whom the process embraced were brought before the king.
   The bishops Ydacius and Ithacius followed as accusers; and I would by
   no means blame their zeal in overthrowing heretics, if they had not
   contended for victory with greater keenness than was fitting. And my
   feeling indeed is, that the accusers were as distasteful to me as the
   accused. I certainly hold that Ithacius had no worth or holiness about
   him. For he was a bold, loquacious, impudent, and extravagant man;
   excessively devoted to the pleasures of sensuality. He proceeded even
   to such a pitch of folly as to charge all those men, however holy, who
   either took delight in reading, or made it their object to vie with
   each other in the practice of fasting, with being friends or disciples
   of Priscillian. The miserable wretch even ventured publicly to bring
   forward a disgraceful charge of heresy against Martin, who was at that
   time a bishop, and a man clearly worthy of being compared to the
   Apostles. For Martin, being then settled at Treves, did not cease to
   importune Ithacius, that he should give up his accusations, or to
   implore Maximus that he should not shed the blood of the unhappy
   persons in question. He maintained that it was quite sufficient
   punishment that, having been declared heretics by a sentence of the
   bishops, they should have been expelled from the churches; and that it
   was, besides, a foul and unheard-of indignity, that a secular ruler
   should be judge in an ecclesiastical cause. And, in fact, as long as
   Martin survived, the trial was put off; while, when he was about to
   leave this world, he, by his remarkable influence, obtained a promise
   from Maximus, that no cruel measure would be resolved on with respect
   to the guilty persons. But subsequently, the emperor being led astray
   by Magnus and Rufus, and turned from the milder course which Martin had
   counseled, entrusted the case to the prefect Evodius, a man of stern
   and severe character. He tried Priscillian in two assemblies, and
   convicted him of evil conduct. In fact, Priscillian did not deny that
   he had given himself up to lewd doctrines; had been accustomed to hold,
   by night, gatherings of vile women, and to pray in a state of nudity.
   Accordingly, Evodius pronounced him guilty, and sent him back to
   prison, until he had time to consult the emperor. The matter, then, in
   all its details, was reported to the palace, and the emperor decreed
   that Priscillian and his friends should be put to death.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter LI.

   But Ithacius, seeing how much ill-will it would excite against him
   among the bishops, if he should stand forth as accuser also at the last
   trial on a capital charge (for it was requisite that the trial should
   be repeated), withdrew from the prosecution. His cunning, however, in
   thus acting was in vain, as the mischief was already accomplished.
   Well, a certain Patricius, an advocate connected with the treasury, was
   then appointed accuser by Maximus. Accordingly, under him as
   prosecutor, Priscillian was condemned to death, and along with him,
   Felicissimus and Armenius, who, when they were clerics, had lately
   adopted the cause of Priscillian, and revolted from the Catholics.
   Latronianus, too, and Euchrotia were beheaded. Instantius, who, as we
   have said above, had been condemned by the bishops, was transported to
   the island of Sylina [395] which lies beyond Britain. A process was
   then instituted against the others in trials which followed, and
   Asarivus, and Aurelius the deacon, were condemned to be beheaded, while
   Tiberianus was deprived of his goods, and banished to the island of
   Sylina. Tertullus, Potamius, and Joannes, as being persons of less
   consideration, and worthy of some merciful treatment, inasmuch as
   before the trial they had made a confession, both as to themselves and
   their confederates, were sentenced to a temporary banishment into Gaul.
   In this sort of way, men who were most unworthy of the light of day,
   were, in order that they might serve as a terrible example to others,
   either put to death or punished with exile. That conduct [396] which he
   had at first defended by his right of appeal to the tribunals, and by
   regard to the public good, Ithacius, harassed [397] with invectives,
   and at last overcome, threw the blame of upon those, by whose direction
   and counsels he had effected his object. Yet he was the only one of all
   of them who was thrust out of the episcopate. For Ydacius, although
   less guilty, had voluntarily resigned his bishopric: that was wisely
   and respectfully done, had he not afterward spoiled the credit of such
   a step by endeavoring to recover the position which had been lost.
   Well, after the death of Priscillian, not only was the heresy not
   suppressed, which, under him, as its author, had burst forth, but
   acquiring strength, it became more widely spread. For his followers who
   had previously honored him as a saint, subsequently began to reverence
   him as a martyr. The bodies of those who had been put to death were
   conveyed to Spain, and their funerals were celebrated with great pomp.
   Nay, it came to be thought the highest exercise of religion to swear by
   Priscillian. But between them and our friends, a perpetual war of
   quarreling has been kept up. And that conflict, after being sustained
   for fifteen years with horrible dissension, could not by any means be
   set at rest. And now all things were seen to be disturbed and confused
   by the discord, especially of the bishops, while everything was
   corrupted by them through their hatred, partiality, fear,
   faithlessness, envy, factiousness, lust, avarice, pride, sleepiness,
   and inactivity. In a word, a large number were striving with insane
   plans and obstinate inclinations against a few giving wise counsel:
   while, in the meantime, the people of God, and all the excellent of the
   earth were exposed to mockery and insult.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [395] Halm prefers the form "Sylinancim" to "Sylinam." The reference is
   probably to the Scilly Isles.

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

   [397] Some read "solitus," instead of "sollicitus.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

                                The COMMONITORY

        OF

Vincent of Lerins,

    For the Antiquity and Universality of the Catholic Faith

    Against the Profane Novelties of all Heresies:

    Translated by

Rev. C. A. Heurtley, D.D.,

        The Lady Margaret's Professor of Divinity in the University of Oxford,
        and Canon of Christ Church.
     __________________________________________________________________

Introduction.
     __________________________________________________________________

   Very little is known of the author of the following Treatise. He writes
   under the assumed name of Peregrinus, but Gennadius of Marseilles,
   [398] who flourished a.d. 495, some sixty years after its date,
   ascribes it to Vincentius, an inmate of the famous monastery of Lerins,
   in the island of that name, [399] and his ascription has been
   universally accepted.

   Vincentius was of Gallic nationality. In earlier life he had been
   engaged in secular pursuits, whether civil or military is not clear,
   though the term he uses, "secularis militia," might possibly imply the
   latter. He refers to the Council of Ephesus, held in the summer and
   early autumn of 431, as having been held some three years previously to
   the time at which he was writing "ante triennium ferme." [400] This
   gives the date of the Commonitory 434. Cyril, bishop of Alexandria, was
   still living. [401] Sixtus the Third had succeeded to the See of Rome;
   [402] his predecessor, Celestine, having died in 432. Gennadius says
   that Vincentius died, "Theodosio et Valentiniano regnantibus." [403]
   Theodosius died, leaving Valentinian still reigning, in July, 450.
   Vincentius' death, therefore, must have occurred in or before that
   year.

   Baronius places his name in the Roman Martyrology, Tillemont doubts
   whether with sufficient reason. [404] He is commemorated on the 24th of
   May.

   Vincentius has been charged with Semipelagianism. Whether he actually
   held the doctrine which was afterwards called by that name is not
   clear. Certainly the express enunciation of it is nowhere to be found
   in the Commonitory. But it is extremely probable that at least his
   sympathies were with those who held it. For not only does he omit the
   name of St. Augustine, who was especially obnoxious to them, when
   making honorable mention at any time of the champions of the faith, but
   he denounces his doctrine, though under a misrepresentation of it, as
   one of the forms of that novel error which he reprobates. [405] Indeed,
   whoever will compare what he says in S: 70 of the heresy which he
   describes but forbears to name, with Prosper's account of the charges
   brought against Augustine by certain Semipelagian clergymen of
   Marseilles, [406] will have little doubt that Vincentius and they had
   the same teacher in view, and were of the same mind with regard to his
   teaching. Be this however as it may, when it is considered that the
   monks of Lerins, in common with the general body of the churchmen of
   Southern Gaul, were strenuous upholders of Semipelagianism, it will not
   be thought surprising that Vincentius should have been suspected of at
   least a leaning in that direction. Tillemont, who forbears to express
   himself decidedly, but evidently inclines to that view, says "L'opinion
   qui le condamne et l'abandonne aux Semipelagiens passe aujourd'hui pour
   la plus commune parmi les savans." [407]

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

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

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

   This rule, in brief, is the authority of Holy Scripture. By that all
   questions must be tried in the first instance. And it would be
   abundantly sufficient, but that, unfortunately, men differ in the
   interpretation of Holy Scripture. The rule, therefore, must be
   supplemented by an appeal to that sense of Holy Scripture which is
   supported by universality, antiquity, and consent: by universality,
   when it is the faith of the whole Church; by antiquity, when it is that
   which has been held from the earliest times; by consent, when it has
   been the acknowledged belief of all, or of almost all, whose office and
   character gave authority to their determinations. This is the famous
   "Quod ubique, quod semper, quod ab omnibus," with which Vincentius's
   name is associated. [409] The body of the work is taken up with its
   illustration and application.

   The work consisted originally of two books; but unfortunately the
   second was lost, or rather, as Gennadius says, was stolen, while the
   author was still alive; and there remains to us nothing but a
   recapitulation of its contents, which the author, unwilling to
   encounter the labour of rewriting the whole, has drawn up. [410]

   In prosecution of his purpose Vincentius proceeds to show how his rule
   applies for the detection of error in the instances of some of the more
   notorious heretics and schismatics who up to his time had made havoc of
   the Church,--the Donatists and the Arians, for instance, and the
   maintainers of the iteration of Baptism; and how the great defenders of
   the Faith were guided in their maintenance of the truth by its
   observance. [411]

   But the perplexing question occurs: Wherefore, in God's providence,
   were persons, eminent for their attainments and their piety, such as
   Photinus, Apollinaris, and Nestorius, permitted to fall into heresy?
   [412] To which the answer is, For the Church's trial. And Vincentius
   proceeds to show, in the case of each of these, how great a trial to
   the Church his fall was. This leads him to give an account of their
   erroneous teaching severally, [413] from which he turns aside for a
   while to expound the Catholic doctrine of the Trinity as opposed to the
   heresy of Photinus, and of the Incarnation as opposed to the heresies
   of Apollinaris and Nestorius, in an exposition remarkable for its
   clearness and precision. [414] It contains so much in common with the
   so-called Athanasian Creed, both as to the sentiments and the language,
   that some have inferred from it, that Vincentius was the author of that
   Formulary. [415]

   Returning from this digression, Vincentius proceeds, after promising to
   deal with these subjects more fully on a future occasion, [416] to two
   other very signal instances of heretical defection caused by the
   disregard of antiquity and universality; those of Origen [417] and
   Tertullian, [418] of both of whom he draws a vivid picture, contrasting
   them, such as they were before their fall with what they became
   afterwards, and enlarging on the grievous injury to the Church
   generally, and the distressing trial to individuals in particular,
   consequent upon their defection.

   But it will be asked, Is Christian doctrine to remain at a standstill?
   Is there to be no progress, as in other sciences? [419] Undoubtedly
   there is to be progress; but it must be real progress, analogous, for
   instance, to the growth of the human body from infancy to childhood,
   from childhood to mature age; or to the development of a plant from the
   seed to the full-grown vegetable or tree; it must be such as the
   elucidation of what was before obscure, the following out into detail
   of what was before expressed only in general terms, [420] not the
   addition of new doctrine, not the rejection of old.

   One difficulty which is not unlikely to perplex a simple Christian is
   the readiness with which heretics appeal to Scripture, following
   therein the example of their arch-leader, who, in his temptation of our
   Lord, dared to make use of arms drawn from that armoury. [421] This
   leads to the question, How are we to ascertain the true sense of
   Scripture? And, in the answer to it, to a more detailed exposition of
   the general rule given at the outset.

   Scripture, then, must be interpreted in accordance with the tradition
   of the Catholic Church, our guide being antiquity, universality,
   consent.

   With regard to antiquity, that interpretation must be held to which has
   been handed down from the earliest times; with regard to universality,
   that which has always been held, if not by all, at least by the most
   part, in preference to that which has been held only by a few; with
   regard to consent, the determination of a General Council on any point
   will of course be of summary authority, and will hold the first place;
   next to this, the interpretation which has been held uniformly and
   persistently by all those Fathers, or by a majority of them, who have
   lived and died in the communion of the Catholic Church. Accordingly,
   whatsoever interpretation of Holy Scripture is opposed to an
   interpretation thus authenticated, even though supported by the
   authority of one or another individual teacher, however eminent,
   whether by his position, or his attainments, or his piety, or by all of
   these together, must be rejected as novel and unsound.

   Here the first Commonitory ends; but it ends with a promise of a still
   further and more detailed inquiry, to be prosecuted in the Commonitory
   which is to follow, into the way in which the opinions of the ancient
   Fathers are to be collected, and the rule of faith determined in
   accordance with them.

   Unfortunately that promise, however fulfilled according to the author's
   intention, has been frustrated to his readers. The second Commonitory,
   as was said above, was lost, or rather stolen, and all that remains to
   us is a brief and apparently partial recapitulation of its contents and
   of the contents of the preceding.

   In this Vincentius repeats the rule for ascertaining the Catholic
   doctrine which he had laid down at the outset, enlarging especially
   upon the way in which the consent of the Fathers is to be arrived at,
   and illustrating what he says by the course pursued by the Council of
   Ephesus in the matter of Nestorius,--how the Fathers of the Council,
   instead of resting upon their own judgment, eminent as many of them
   were, collected together the opinions of the most illustrious of their
   predecessors, and following their consentient belief, determined the
   question before them. To this most noteworthy example he adds the
   authority of two bishops of Rome, Sixtus III., then occupying the Papal
   Chair, and Celestine, his immediate predecessor,--the gist of the whole
   being the confirmation of the rule which it had been his object to
   enforce throughout the Treatise--that profane novelties must be
   rejected, and that faith alone adhered to which the universal Church
   has held consentiently from the earliest times, Quod ubique, quod
   semper, quod ab omnibus.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [398] De Scriptoribus Ecclesiasticis. Gennadius's work is to be found
   at the end of the second volume of Vallarsius's edition of St. Jerome's
   works.

   [399] Now St. Honorat, so called from St. Honoratus, the founder of the
   monastery. The monastery seems at first to have consisted of an
   aggregation of separate cells, each of which, according to the usage of
   that time, would be called a "monasterium." "Tota ubique insula,
   exstructis cellulis, unum velut monasterium evasit."--Cardinal Noris,
   Histor. Pelag. p. 251. "Monasterium potest unius monachi habitaculum
   nominari."--Cassian. Collat. xvii. 18. Among its more prominent
   members, contemporary with Vincentius, were Honoratus and Hilary,
   afterwards successively bishops of Arles, and Faustus, afterwards
   bishop of Riez, all of them in sympathy with the neighbouring clergy of
   Marseilles, opposed to St. Augustine's later teaching, and holding what
   was afterwards called Semipelagian doctrine. The adjoining islet of St.
   Marguerite, one of the Lerins group, has acquired notoriety of late,
   from having been the place to which Marshal Bazaine, the betrayer of
   Metz, was banished in 1873.

   [400] S: 79.

   [401] S: 80.

   [402] S: 85.

   [403] De Illustr. Eccles. Scrip. c. 84.

   [404] xv. p. 146.

   [405] Cardinal Noris does not hesitate to say of him, "Non modo
   Semipelagianum se prodit, sed disertis verbis Augustini discipulos
   tanquam haereticos traducit."--Historia Pelagiana, p. 245. See below,
   Appendix II.

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

   [407] T. xv. p. 146.

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

   [409] S: 6.

   [410] S:S: 77-88.

   [411] S:S: 9 sqq.

   [412] S:S: 27 sqq.

   [413] S:S: 32 sqq.

   [414] S:S: 36 sqq.

   [415] Antelmi, Nova de Symbolo Athanasiano Disquisitio. See the note on
   S: 42, Appendix I.

   [416] S: 42.

   [417] S:S: 44-46.

   [418] S: 47.

   [419] S: 55.

   [420] S:S: 55-60. For instances in point, he might have referred to the
   enlargement and expansion of the earlier Creed, first in the Nicene,
   afterward in the Constantinopolitan Formulary. Thus, in the Definition
   of the Faith of the Council of Chalcedon, the Fathers are careful to
   explain that they are making no addition to the original deposit, but
   amply unfolding and rendering more intelligible what before had been
   less distinctly set forth: "Teaching in its fulness the doctrine which
   from the beginning hath remained unshaken, it decrees, in the first
   place that the Creed of the 318 (the original Nicene Creed) remain
   untouched; and on account of those who impugn the Holy Spirit, it
   ratifies and confirms the doctrine subsequently delivered, concerning
   the essence of the Holy Spirit, by the hundred and fifty holy Fathers,
   (the Constantinopolitan Creed), which they promulgated for universal
   acceptance, not as though they were supplying some omission of their
   predecessors, but testifying in express words in writing their own
   minds concerning the Holy Spirit."

   [421] S:S: 65 sqq.
     __________________________________________________________________

                              A Commonitory [422]

  For the Antiquity and Universality of the Catholic Faith Against the Profane
  Novelties of All Heresies.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   The Object of the Following Treatise.

   [1.] I, Peregrinus, [423] who am the least of all the servants of God,
   remembering the admonition of Scripture, "Ask thy fathers and they will
   tell thee, thine elders and they will declare unto thee," [424] and
   again, "Bow down thine ear to the words of the wise," [425] and once
   more, "My son, forget not these instructions, but let thy heart keep my
   words:" [426] remembering these admonitions, I say, I, Peregrinus, am
   persuaded, that, the Lord helping me, it will be of no little use and
   certainly as regards my own feeble powers, it is most necessary, that I
   should put down in writing the things which I have truthfully received
   from the holy Fathers, since I shall then have ready at hand wherewith
   by constant reading to make amends for the weakness of my memory.

   [2.] To this I am incited not only by regard to the fruit to be
   expected from my labour but also by the consideration of time and the
   opportuneness of place:

   By the consideration of time,--for seeing that time seizes upon all
   things human, we also in turn ought to snatch from it something which
   may profit us to eternal life, especially since a certain awful
   expectation of the approach of the divine judgment importunately
   demands increased earnestness in religion, while the subtle craftiness
   of new heretics calls for no ordinary care and attention.

   I am incited also by the opportuneness of place, in that, avoiding the
   concourse and crowds of cities, I am dwelling in the seclusion of a
   Monastery, situated in a remote grange, [427] where, I can follow
   without distraction the Psalmist's [428] admonition, "Be still, and
   know that I am God."

   Moreover, it suits well with my purpose in adopting this life; for,
   whereas I was at one time involved in the manifold and deplorable
   tempests of secular warfare, I have now at length, under Christ's
   auspices, cast anchor in the harbour of religion, a harbour to all
   always most safe, in order that, having there been freed from the
   blasts of vanity and pride, and propitiating God by the sacrifice of
   Christian humility, I may be able to escape not only the shipwrecks of
   the present life, but also the flames of the world to come.

   [3.] But now, in the Lord's name, I will set about the object I have in
   view; that is to say, to record with the fidelity of a narrator rather
   than the presumption of an author, the things which our forefathers
   have handed down to us and committed to our keeping, yet observing this
   rule in what I write, that I shall by no means touch upon everything
   that might be said, but only upon what is necessary; nor yet in an
   ornate and exact style, but in simple and ordinary language, [429] so
   that the most part may seem to be intimated, rather than set forth in
   detail. Let those cultivate elegance and exactness who are confident of
   their ability or are moved by a sense of duty. For me it will be enough
   to have provided a Commonitory (or Remembrancer) for myself, such as
   may aid my memory, or rather, provide against my forgetfulness: which
   same Commonitory however, I shall endeavor, the Lord helping me, to
   amend and make more complete by little and little, day by day, by
   recalling to mind what I have learnt. I mention this at the outset,
   that if by chance what I write should slip out of my possession and
   come into the hands of holy men, they may forbear to blame anything
   therein hastily, when they see that there is a promise that it will yet
   be amended and made more complete.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [422] Commonitory. I have retained the original title in its anglicised
   form, already familiar to English ears in connection with the name of
   Vincentius. Its meaning as he uses it is indicated sufficiently, in S:
   3, "An aid to memory." Technically, it meant a Paper of Instructions
   given to a person charged with a commission, to assist his memory as to
   its details.

   [423] Peregrinus. It does not appear why Vincentius writes under an
   assumed name. Vossius, with whom Cardinal Noris evidently agrees,
   supposes that his object was to avoid openly avowing himself the author
   of a work which covertly attacked St. Augustine. Vossius, Histor.
   Pelag. p. 246. Ego quidem ad Vossii sententiam plane accessissem, nisi
   tot delatae a sapientissimis Scriptoribus Commonitorio laudes
   religionem mihi pene injecissent.--Noris, Histor. Pelag. p. 246.

   [424] Deut. xxxii. 7.

   [425] Prov. xxii. 17.

   [426] Prov. iii. 1.

   [427] Noris, from this word, "villula," a grange or country house,
   concludes that Vincentius, at the time of writing, though a monk, was
   not a monk of Lerins for there could be no "villula" there then,
   Honoratus having found the island desolate and without inhabitant, when
   he settled on it but a few years previously, "vacantem insulam ob
   nimictatem squaloris, et inaccessam venenatorum animalium metu."
   Histor. Pelag. p. 251. Why, however, may not the "villula" have been
   built subsequently to Honoratus's settlement and indeed, as a part of
   it? Whether Vincentius was an inmate of the monastery of Lerins at the
   time of writing the Commonitory or not, he was so eventually, and died
   there.

   [428] Ps. xlvi. 10.

   [429] "Il dit qu'il l'a voulu ecrire d'un style facile et commun, sans
   le vouloir orner et polir; et je voudrois que les ouvrages qu'on a pris
   le plus de peine `a polir dans ce siecle (le 4me) et dans le suivant,
   ressemblassent `a celui-ci." Tillemont, T. xv. p. 144.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   A General Rule for distinguishing the Truth of the Catholic Faith from
   the Falsehood of Heretical Pravity.

   [4.] I have often then inquired earnestly and attentively of very many
   men eminent for sanctity and learning, how and by what sure and so to
   speak universal rule I may be able to distinguish the truth of Catholic
   faith from the falsehood of heretical pravity; and I have always, and
   in almost every instance, received an answer to this effect: That
   whether I or any one else should wish to detect the frauds and avoid
   the snares of heretics as they rise, and to continue sound and complete
   in the Catholic faith, we must, the Lord helping, fortify our own
   belief in two ways; first, by the authority of the Divine Law, and
   then, by the Tradition of the Catholic Church.

   [5.] But here some one perhaps will ask, Since the canon of Scripture
   is complete, and sufficient of itself for everything, and more than
   sufficient, what need is there to join with it the authority of the
   Church's interpretation? For this reason,--because, owing to the depth
   of Holy Scripture, all do not accept it in one and the same sense, but
   one understands its words in one way, another in another; so that it
   seems to be capable of as many interpretations as there are
   interpreters. For Novatian expounds it one way, Sabellius another,
   Donatus another, Arius, Eunomius, Macedonius, another, Photinus,
   Apollinaris, Priscillian, another, Iovinian, Pelagius, Celestius,
   another, lastly, Nestorius another. Therefore, it is very necessary, on
   account of so great intricacies of such various error, that the rule
   for the right understanding of the prophets and apostles should be
   framed in accordance with the standard of Ecclesiastical and Catholic
   interpretation.

   [6.] Moreover, in the Catholic Church itself, all possible care must be
   taken, that we hold that faith which has been believed everywhere,
   always, by all. For that is truly and in the strictest sense
   "Catholic," which, as the name itself and the reason of the thing
   declare, comprehends all universally. This rule we shall observe if we
   follow universality, antiquity, consent. We shall follow universality
   if we confess that one faith to be true, which the whole Church
   throughout the world confesses; antiquity, if we in no wise depart from
   those interpretations which it is manifest were notoriously held by our
   holy ancestors and fathers; consent, in like manner, if in antiquity
   itself we adhere to the consentient definitions and determinations of
   all, or at the least of almost all priests and doctors.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   What is to be done if one or more dissent from the rest.

   [7.] What then will a Catholic Christian do, if a small portion of the
   Church have cut itself off from the communion of the universal faith?
   What, surely, but prefer the soundness of the whole body to the
   unsoundness of a pestilent and corrupt member? What, if some novel
   contagion seek to infect not merely an insignificant portion of the
   Church, but the whole? Then it will be his care to cleave to antiquity,
   which at this day cannot possibly be seduced by any fraud of novelty.

   [8.] But what, if in antiquity itself there be found error on the part
   of two or three men, or at any rate of a city or even of a province?
   Then it will be his care by all means, to prefer the decrees, if such
   there be, of an ancient General Council to the rashness and ignorance
   of a few. But what, if some error should spring up on which no such
   decree is found to bear? Then he must collate and consult and
   interrogate the opinions of the ancients, of those, namely, who, though
   living in divers times and places, yet continuing in the communion and
   faith of the one Catholic Church, stand forth acknowledged and approved
   authorities: and whatsoever he shall ascertain to have been held,
   written, taught, not by one or two of these only, but by all, equally,
   with one consent, openly, frequently, persistently, that he must
   understand that he himself also is to believe without any doubt or
   hesitation.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   The evil resulting from the bringing in of Novel Doctrine shown in the
   instances of the Donatists and Arians.

   [9.] But that we may make what we say more intelligible, we must
   illustrate it by individual examples, and enlarge upon it somewhat more
   fully, lest by aiming at too great brevity important matters be hurried
   over and lost sight of.

   In the time of Donatus, [430] from whom his followers were called
   Donatists, when great numbers in Africa were rushing headlong into
   their own mad error, and unmindful of their name, their religion, their
   profession, were preferring the sacrilegious temerity of one man before
   the Church of Christ, then they alone throughout Africa were safe
   within the sacred precincts of the Catholic faith, who, detesting the
   profane schism, continued in communion with the universal Church,
   leaving to posterity an illustrious example, how, and how well in
   future the soundness of the whole body should be preferred before the
   madness of one, or at most of a few.

   [10.] So also when the Arian poison had infected not an insignificant
   portion of the Church but almost the whole world, [431] so that a sort
   of blindness had fallen upon almost all the bishops [432] of the Latin
   tongue, circumvented partly by force partly by fraud, and was
   preventing them from seeing what was most expedient to be done in the
   midst of so much confusion, then whoever was a true lover and
   worshipper of Christ, preferring the ancient belief to the novel
   misbelief, escaped the pestilent infection.

   [11.] By the peril of which time was abundantly shown how great a
   calamity the introduction of a novel doctrine causes. For then truly
   not only interests of small account, but others of the very gravest
   importance, were subverted. For not only affinities, relationships,
   friendships, families, but moreover, cities, peoples, provinces,
   nations, at last the whole Roman Empire, were shaken to their
   foundation and ruined. For when this same profane Arian novelty, like a
   Bellona or a Fury, had first taken captive the Emperor, [433] and had
   then subjected all the principal persons of the palace to new laws,
   from that time it never ceased to involve everything in confusion,
   disturbing all things, public and private, sacred and profane, paying
   no regard to what was good and true, but, as though holding a position
   of authority, smiting whomsoever it pleased. Then wives were violated,
   widows ravished, virgins profaned, monasteries demolished, clergymen
   ejected, the inferior clergy scourged, priests driven into exile,
   jails, prisons, mines, filled with saints, of whom the greater part,
   forbidden to enter into cities, thrust forth from their homes to wander
   in deserts and caves, among rocks and the haunts of wild beasts,
   exposed to nakedness, hunger, thirst, were worn out and consumed. Of
   all of which was there any other cause than that, while human
   superstitions are being brought in to supplant heavenly doctrine, while
   well established antiquity is being subverted by wicked novelty, while
   the institutions of former ages are being set at naught, while the
   decrees of our fathers are being rescinded, while the determinations of
   our ancestors are being torn in pieces, the lust of profane and novel
   curiosity refuses to restrict itself within the most chaste limits of
   hallowed and uncorrupt antiquity? [434]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [430] There were two persons of this name, both intimately connected
   with the schism,--the earlier one, bishop of Casa Nigra in Numidia, the
   other the successor of Majorinus, whom in the year 311 the party had
   elected to be bishop of Carthage in opposition to Cecilian, the
   Catholic bishop, the ground of the opposition being that the principal
   among Cecilian's consecrators lay under the charge of having delivered
   up the sacred books to the heathen magistrates in the Dioclesian
   persecution, and of having thereby rendered his ministerial acts
   invalid. It was from the last-mentioned probably that the sect was
   called. The Donatists affected great strictness of life, and ignoring
   the plain declarations of Scripture, and notably the prophetic
   representations contained in our Lord's parables of the Tares, the
   Draw-net, and others, they held that no church could be a true church
   which endured the presence of evil men in its society. Accordingly they
   broke off communion with the rest of the African Church and with all
   who held communion with it, which was in effect the rest of
   Christendom, denying the validity of their sacraments, rebaptizing
   those who came over to them from other Christian bodies, and
   reordaining their clergy. The sect became so powerful that for some
   time it formed the stronger party in the church of North Western
   Africa, its bishops exceeding four hundred in number; but partly
   checked through the exertions of Augustine in the first years of the
   fifth century, and of Pope Gregory the Great at the close of the sixth,
   and partly weakened by divisions among themselves, they dwindled away
   and become extinct.

   [431] The rise of Arianism was nearly contemporaneous with that of
   Donatism. It originated with Arius, a presbyter of Alexandria, a man of
   a subtle wit and a fluent tongue. He began by calling in question the
   teaching of his bishop, when discoursing on a certain occasion on the
   subject of the Trinity. For himself he denied our blessed Lord's
   coeternity and consubstantiality with the Father, which was in effect
   to deny that He is God in any true sense, though he made no scruple of
   giving Him the name. His doctrine may be best inferred from the
   anathema directed against it, appended to the original Nicene Creed:
   "Those who say, that once the Son of God did not exist, and that before
   He was begotten He did not exist, or who affirm that He is of a
   different substance or essence (from that of the Father), or that His
   nature is mutable or alterable, those the Catholic and Apostolic Church
   anathematises." Arianism spread with great rapidity, and though
   condemned by the Council of Nicaea in 325, it gained fresh strength on
   the death of Constantine and the accession of Constantius, so that for
   many years thenceforward the history of the Church is occupied with
   nothing so much as with accounts of its struggle for supremacy. "Arians
   and Donatists began both about one time, which heresies, according to
   the different strength of their own sinews, wrought, as the hope of
   success led them, the one with the choicest wits, the other with the
   multitude, so far, that after long and troublesome experience, the
   perfectest view that men could take of both was hardly able to induce
   any certain determinate resolution, whether error may do more by the
   curious subtlety of sharp discourse, or else by the mere appearance of
   zeal and devout affection."--Hooker, Eccles. Pol. v. 62. S: 8.

   [432] The Catholic bishops, in number more than four hundred, who at
   Ariminum, in 359, after having subscribed the Creed of Nicaea, were
   induced, partly by fraud, partly by threats, to repudiate its crucial
   terms and sign an Arian Formulary. It was in reference to this that St.
   Jerome wrote, "Ingemuit orbis, et Arium se esse miratus est." "The
   world groaned and marvelled to find itself Arian." He continues, "The
   vessel of the apostles was in extreme danger. The storm raged, the
   waves beat upon the ship, all hope was gone. The Lord awakes, rebukes
   the tempest, the monster (Constantius) dies, tranquillity is restored.
   The bishops who had been thrust out from their sees return, through the
   clemency of the new emperor. Then did Egypt receive Athanasius in
   triumph, then did the Church of Gaul receive Hilary returning from
   battle, then did Italy put off her mourning garments at the return of
   Eusebius (of Vercellae)."--Advers. Luciferianos, S: 10.

   [433] Constantius, the Emperor of the West.

   [434] Though Vincentius' account of the Arian persecutions refers to
   those under Arian emperors, Constantius and Valens, the former
   especially, yet he could not but have had in mind the atrocious
   cruelties which were being perpetrated, at the time when he was
   writing, by the Arian Vandals in Africa. Possidius, in his life of St.
   Augustine, who lay on his death-bed in Hippo while the fierce Vandal
   host was encamped round the city (c. xxviii.), gives a detailed account
   of them belonging to a date some four years earlier, entirely of a
   piece with Vincentius' description in the text. Victor, bishop of Vite,
   himself a sufferer, has left a still ampler relation, De Persecutione
   Vandalorum.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   The Example set us by the Martyrs, whom no force could hinder from
   defending the Faith of their Predecessors.

   [12.] But it may be, we invent these charges out of hatred to novelty
   and zeal for antiquity. Whoever is disposed to listen to such an
   insinuation, let him at least believe the blessed Ambrose, who,
   deploring the acerbity of the time, says, in the second book of his
   work addressed to the Emperor Gratian: [435] "Enough now, O God
   Almighty! have we expiated with our own ruin, with our own blood, the
   slaughter of Confessors, the banishment of priests, and the wickedness
   of such extreme impiety. It is clear, beyond question, that they who
   have violated the faith cannot remain in safety."

   And again in the third book of the same work, [436] "Let us observe the
   precepts of our predecessors, and not transgress with rude rashness the
   landmarks which we have inherited from them. That sealed Book of
   Prophecy no Elders, no Powers, no Angels, no Archangels, dared to open.
   To Christ alone was reserved the prerogative of explaining it. [437]
   Who of us may dare to unseal the Sacerdotal Book sealed by Confessors,
   and consecrated already by the martyrdom of numbers, which they who had
   been compelled by force to unseal afterwards resealed, condemning the
   fraud which had been practised upon them; while they who had not
   ventured to tamper with it proved themselves Confessors and martyrs?
   How can we deny the faith of those whose victory we proclaim?"

   [13.] We proclaim it truly, O venerable Ambrose, we proclaim it, and
   applaud and admire. For who is there so demented, who, though not able
   to overtake, does not at least earnestly desire to follow those whom no
   force could deter from defending the faith of their ancestors, no
   threats, no blandishments, not life, not death, not the palace, not the
   Imperial Guards, not the Emperor, not the empire itself, not men, not
   demons?--whom, I say, as a recompense for their steadfastness in
   adhering to religious antiquity, the Lord counted worthy of so great a
   reward, that by their instrumentality He restored churches which had
   been destroyed, quickened with new life peoples who were spiritually
   dead, replaced on the heads of priests the crowns which had been torn
   from them, washed out those abominable, I will not say letters, but
   blotches (non literas, sed lituras) of novel impiety, with a fountain
   of believing tears, which God opened in the hearts of the
   bishops?--lastly, when almost the whole world was overwhelmed by a
   ruthless tempest of unlooked for heresy, recalled it from novel
   misbelief to the ancient faith, from the madness of novelty to the
   soundness of antiquity, from the blindness of novelty to pristine
   light?

   [14.] But in this divine virtue, as we may call it, exhibited by these
   Confessors, we must note especially that the defence which they then
   undertook in appealing to the Ancient Church, was the defence, not of a
   part, but of the whole body. For it was not right that men of such
   eminence should uphold with so huge an effort the vague and conflicting
   notions of one or two men, or should exert themselves in the defence of
   some ill-advised combination of some petty province; but adhering to
   the decrees and definitions of the universal priesthood of Holy Church,
   the heirs of Apostolic and Catholic truth, they chose rather to deliver
   up themselves than to betray the faith of universality and antiquity.
   For which cause they were deemed worthy of so great glory as not only
   to be accounted Confessors, but rightly, and deservedly to be accounted
   foremost among Confessors.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [435] St. Ambrose. De Fide, l. 2, c. 15, S: 141. See also St. Jerome
   adv. Luciferianos, S: 19.

   [436] Ibid. l. 3, S: 128. St. Ambrose speaks of the Gothic war as a
   judgment upon Valens, both for his Arianism and for his persecution of
   the Catholics. He had permitted the Goths to cross the Danube, and
   settle in Thrace and the adjoining parts, with the understanding that
   they should embrace Christianity in its Arian form. They had now turned
   against him, and Gratian was on the eve of setting out to carry aid to
   him. St. Ambrose's book, De Fide, was written to confirm Gratian in the
   Catholic faith, in view especially of the Arian influence to which he
   might be subjected in his intercourse with Valens. Valens was killed
   the following year, 378, at the battle of Adrianople.

   [437] Rev. v. 1-5.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   The example of Pope Stephen in resisting the Iteration of Baptism.

   [15.] Great then is the example of these same blessed men, an example
   plainly divine, and worthy to be called to mind, and meditated upon
   continually by every true Catholic, who, like the seven-branched
   candlestick, shining with the sevenfold light of the Holy Spirit,
   showed to posterity how thenceforward the audaciousness of profane
   novelty, in all the several rantings of error, might be crushed by the
   authority of hallowed antiquity.

   Nor is there anything new in this? For it has always been the case in
   the Church, that the more a man is under the influence of religion, so
   much the more prompt is he to oppose innovations. Examples there are
   without number: but to be brief, we will take one, and that, in
   preference to others, from the Apostolic See, [438] so that it may be
   clearer than day to every one with how great energy, with how great
   zeal, with how great earnestness, the blessed successors of the blessed
   apostles have constantly defended the integrity of the religion which
   they have once received.

   [16.] Once on a time then, Agrippinus, [439] bishop of Carthage, of
   venerable memory, held the doctrine--and he was the first who held
   it--that Baptism ought to be repeated, contrary to the divine canon,
   contrary to the rule of the universal Church, contrary to the customs
   and institutions of our ancestors. This innovation drew after it such
   an amount of evil, that it not only gave an example of sacrilege to
   heretics of all sorts, but proved an occasion of error to certain
   Catholics even.

   When then all men protested against the novelty, and the priesthood
   everywhere, each as his zeal prompted him, opposed it, Pope Stephen of
   blessed memory, Prelate of the Apostolic See, in conjunction indeed
   with his colleagues but yet himself the foremost, withstood it,
   thinking it right, I doubt not, that as he exceeded all others in the
   authority of his place, so he should also in the devotion of his faith.
   In fine, in an epistle sent at the time to Africa, he laid down this
   rule: "Let there be no innovation--nothing but what has been handed
   down." [440] For that holy and prudent man well knew that true piety
   admits no other rule than that whatsoever things have been faithfully
   received from our fathers the same are to be faithfully consigned to
   our children; and that it is our duty, not to lead religion whither we
   would, but rather to follow religion whither it leads; and that it is
   the part of Christian modesty and gravity not to hand down our own
   beliefs or observances to those who come after us, but to preserve and
   keep what we have received from those who went before us. What then was
   the issue of the whole matter? What but the usual and customary one?
   Antiquity was retained, novelty was rejected.

   [17.] But it may be, the cause of innovation at that time lacked
   patronage. On the contrary, it had in its favor such powerful talent,
   such copious eloquence, such a number of partisans, so much resemblance
   to truth, such weighty support in Scripture (only interpreted in a
   novel and perverse sense), that it seems to me that that whole
   conspiracy could not possibly have been defeated, unless the sole cause
   of this extraordinary stir, the very novelty of what was so undertaken,
   so defended, so belauded, had proved wanting to it. In the end, what
   result, under God, had that same African Council or decree? [441] None
   whatever. The whole affair, as though a dream, a fable, a thing of no
   possible account, was annulled, cancelled, and trodden underfoot.

   [18.] And O marvellous revolution! The authors of this same doctrine
   are judged Catholics, the followers heretics; the teachers are
   absolved, the disciples condemned; the writers of the books will be
   children of the Kingdom, the defenders of them will have their portion
   in Hell. For who is so demented as to doubt that that blessed light
   among all holy bishops and martyrs, Cyprian, together with the rest of
   his colleagues, will reign with Christ; or, who on the other hand so
   sacrilegious as to deny that the Donatists and those other pests, who
   boast the authority of that council for their iteration of baptism,
   will be consigned to eternal fire with the devil? [442]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [438] "The Apostolic see" (Sedes Apostolica) here means Rome of course.
   But the title was not restricted to Rome. It was common to all sees
   which could claim an apostle as their Founder. Thus St. Augustine,
   suggesting a rule for determining what books are to be regarded as
   Canonical, says, "In Canonicis Scripturis Ecclesiarum Catholicarum
   quamplurium auctoritatem sequatur, inter quas sane illae sint quae
   Apostolicas Sedes habere et Epistolas accipere meruerunt." "Let him
   follow the authority of those Catholic Churches which have been counted
   worthy to have Apostolic Sees; i.e., to have been founded by Apostles,
   and to have been the recipients of Apostolic Epistles."--De Doctr.
   Christiana, II. S: 13. But the title, even in St. Augustine's time, had
   even a wider meaning. "Anciently every bishop's see was dignified with
   the title of Sedes Apostolica, which in those days was no peculiar
   title of the bishop of Rome, but given to all bishops in general, as
   deriving their origin and counting their succession from the
   apostles."--Bingham, Antiq. II., c. 2, S: 3.

   [439] Agrippinus. See note 4, below.

   [440] Stephen's letter has not come down to us, happily perhaps for his
   credit, judging by the terms in which Cyprian speaks of it in the
   letter in which he quotes the passage in the text.--Ad Pompeian, Ep.
   74.

   [441] The Council held under the presidency of Cyprian in 256. Its acts
   are contained in Cyprian's works, Ed. Fell. pp. 158, etc. An earlier
   council had been held in the same city in the beginning of the century
   under Agrippinus. Both had affirmed the necessity of rebaptizing
   heretics, or, as they would rather have said, of baptizing them. The
   controversy was set at rest by a decision of the council of Arles, in
   314, which ordered, in its Eighth Canon, that if the baptism had been
   administered in the name of the Trinity, converts should be admitted
   simply by the imposition of hands that they might receive the Holy
   Ghost.

   [442] See Hooker's reference to this passage.--Eccles. Poll. v. 62, S:
   9.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   How Heretics, craftily cite obscure passages in ancient writers in
   support of their own novelties.

   [19.] This condemnation, indeed, [443] seems to have been
   providentially promulgated as though with a special view to the fraud
   of those who, contriving to dress up a heresy under a name other than
   its own, get hold often of the works of some ancient writer, not very
   clearly expressed, which, owing to the very obscurity of their own
   doctrine, have the appearance of agreeing with it, so that they get the
   credit of being neither the first nor the only persons who have held
   it. This wickedness of theirs, in my judgment, is doubly hateful:
   first, because they are not afraid to invite others to drink of the
   poison of heresy; and secondly, because with profane breath, as though
   fanning smouldering embers into flame, they blow upon the memory of
   each holy man, and spread an evil report of what ought to be buried in
   silence by bringing it again under notice, thus treading in the
   footsteps of their father Ham, who not only forebore to cover the
   nakedness of the venerable Noah, but told it to the others that they
   might laugh at it, offending thereby so grievously against the duty of
   filial piety, that even his descendants were involved with him in the
   curse which he drew down, widely differing from those blessed brothers
   of his, who would neither pollute their own eyes by looking upon the
   nakedness of their revered father, nor would suffer others to do so,
   but went backwards, as the Scripture says, and covered him, that is,
   they neither approved nor betrayed the fault of the holy man, for which
   cause they were rewarded with a benediction on themselves and their
   posterity. [444]

   [20.] But to return to the matter in hand: It behoves us then to have a
   great dread of the crime of perverting the faith and adulterating
   religion, a crime from which we are deterred not only by the Church's
   discipline, but also by the censure of apostolical authority. For every
   one knows how gravely, how severely, how vehemently, the blessed
   apostle Paul inveighs against certain, who, with marvellous levity, had
   "been so soon removed from him who had called them to the grace of
   Christ to another Gospel, which was not another;" [445] "who had heaped
   to themselves teachers after their own lusts, turning away their ears
   from the truth, and being turned aside unto fables;" [446] "having
   damnation because they had cast off their first faith;" [447] who had
   been deceived by those of whom the same apostle writes to the Roman
   Christians, "Now, I beseech you, brethren, mark them which cause
   divisions and offences, contrary to the doctrine which ye have learned,
   and avoid them. For they that are such serve not the Lord Christ, but
   their own belly, and by good words and fair speeches deceive the hearts
   of the simple," [448] "who enter into houses, and lead captive silly
   women laden with sins, led away with diverse lusts, ever learning and
   never able to come to the knowledge of the truth;" [449] "vain talkers
   and deceivers, who subvert whole houses, teaching things which they
   ought not, for filthy lucre's sake;" [450] "men of corrupt minds,
   reprobate concerning the faith;" [451] "proud knowing nothing, but
   doting about questions and strifes of words, destitute of the truth,
   supposing that godliness is gain," [452] "withal learning to be idle,
   wandering about from house to house, and not only idle, but tattlers
   also and busy-bodies, speaking things which they ought not," [453] "who
   having put away a good conscience have made shipwreck concerning the
   faith;" [454] "whose profane and vain babblings increase unto more
   ungodliness, and their word doth eat as doth a cancer." [455] Well,
   also, is it written of them: "But they shall proceed no further: for
   their folly shall be manifest unto all men, as theirs also was." [456]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [443] The condemnation of St. Cyprian's practice of rebaptism.

   [444] Gen. ix. 22.

   [445] Gal. i. 6.

   [446] 2 Tim. iv. 3, 4.

   [447] 1 Tim. v. 12.

   [448] Rom. xvi. 17, 18.

   [449] 2 Tim. iii. 6.

   [450] Tit. i. 10.

   [451] 2 Tim. iii. 8.

   [452] 1 Tim. vi. 4.

   [453] 1 Tim. v. 13.

   [454] 1 Tim. i. 19.

   [455] 2 Tim. ii. 16, 17.

   [456] 2 Tim. iii. 9.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Exposition of St. Paul's Words, Gal. i. 8.

   [21.] When therefore certain of this sort wandering about provinces and
   cities, and carrying with them their venal errors, had found their way
   to Galatia, and when the Galatians, on hearing them, nauseating the
   truth, and vomiting up the manna of Apostolic and Catholic doctrine,
   were delighted with the garbage of heretical novelty, the apostle
   putting in exercise the authority of his office, delivered his sentence
   with the utmost severity, "Though we," he says, "or an angel from
   heaven, preach any other Gospel unto you than that which we have
   preached unto you, let him be accursed." [457]

   [22.] Why does he say "Though we"? why not rather "though I"? He means,
   "though Peter, though Andrew, though John, in a word, though the whole
   company of apostles, preach unto you other than we have preached unto
   you, let him be accursed." Tremendous severity! He spares neither
   himself nor his fellow apostles, so he may preserve unaltered the faith
   which was at first delivered. Nay, this is not all. He goes on "Even
   though an angel from heaven preach unto you any other Gospel than that
   which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed." It was not
   enough for the preservation of the faith once delivered to have
   referred to man; he must needs comprehend angels also. "Though we," he
   says, "or an angel from heaven." Not that the holy angels of heaven are
   now capable of sinning. But what he means is: Even if that were to
   happen which cannot happen,--if any one, be he who he may, attempt to
   alter the faith once for all delivered, let him be accursed.

   [23.] But it may be, he spoke thus in the first instance
   inconsiderately, giving vent to human impetuosity rather than
   expressing himself under divine guidance. Far from it. He follows up
   what he had said, and urges it with intense reiterated earnestness, "As
   we said before, so say I now again, If any man preach any other Gospel
   to you than that ye have received, let him be accursed." He does not
   say, "If any man deliver to you another message than that you have
   received, let him be blessed, praised, welcomed,"--no; but "let him be
   accursed," [anathema] i.e., separated, segregated, excluded, lest the
   dire contagion of a single sheep contaminate the guiltless flock of
   Christ by his poisonous intermixture with them.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [457] Gal. i. 8.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   His warning to the Galatians a warning to all.

   [24.] But, possibly, this warning was intended for the Galatians only.
   Be it so; then those other exhortations which follow in the same
   Epistle were intended for the Galatians only, such as, "If we live in
   the Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit; let us not be desirous of
   vain glory, provoking one another, envying one another," etc.; [458]
   which alternative if it be absurd, and the injunctions were meant
   equally for all, then it follows, that as these injunctions which
   relate to morals, so those warnings which relate to faith are meant
   equally for all; and just as it is unlawful for all to provoke one
   another, or to envy one another, so, likewise, it is unlawful for all
   to receive any other Gospel than that which the Catholic Church
   preaches everywhere.

   [25.] Or perhaps the anathema pronounced on any one who should preach
   another Gospel than that which had been preached was meant for those
   times, not for the present. Then, also, the exhortation, "Walk in the
   Spirit and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the flesh," [459] was meant
   for those times, not for the present. But if it be both impious and
   pernicious to believe this, then it follows necessarily, that as these
   injunctions are to be observed by all ages, so those warnings also
   which forbid alteration of the faith are warnings intended for all
   ages. To preach any doctrine therefore to Catholic Christians other
   than what they have received never was lawful, never is lawful, never
   will be lawful: and to anathematize those who preach anything other
   than what has once been received, always was a duty, always is a duty,
   always will be a duty.

   [26.] Which being the case, is there any one either so audacious as to
   preach any other doctrine than that which the Church preaches, or so
   inconstant as to receive any other doctrine than that which he has
   received from the Church? That elect vessel, that teacher of the
   Gentiles, that trumpet of the apostles, that preacher whose commission
   was to the whole earth, that man who was caught up to heaven, [460]
   cries and cries again in his Epistles to all, always, in all places,
   "If any man preach any new doctrine, let him be accursed." On the other
   hand, an ephemeral, moribund set of frogs, fleas, and flies, such as
   the Pelagians, call out in opposition, and that to Catholics, "Take our
   word, follow our lead, accept our exposition, condemn what you used to
   hold, hold what you used to condemn, cast aside the ancient faith, the
   institutes of your fathers, the trusts left for you by your ancestors
   and receive instead,--what? I tremble to utter it: for it is so full of
   arrogance and self-conceit, that it seems to me that not only to affirm
   it, but even to refute it, cannot be done without guilt in some sort.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [458] Gal. v. 25.

   [459] Gal. v. 16.

   [460] 2 Cor. xii. 2.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   Why Eminent Men are permitted by God to become Authors of Novelties in
   the Church.

   [27.] But some one will ask, How is it then, that certain excellent
   persons, and of position in the Church, are often permitted by God to
   preach novel doctrines to Catholics? A proper question, certainly, and
   one which ought to be very carefully and fully dealt with, but answered
   at the same time, not in reliance upon one's own ability, but by the
   authority of the divine Law, and by appeal to the Church's
   determination.

   Let us listen, then, to Holy Moses, and let him teach us why learned
   men, and such as because of their knowledge are even called Prophets by
   the apostle, are sometimes permitted to put forth novel doctrines,
   which the Old Testament is wont, by way of allegory, to call "strange
   gods," forasmuch as heretics pay the same sort of reverence to their
   notions that the Gentiles do to their gods.

   [28.] Blessed Moses, then, writes thus in Deuteronomy: [461] "If there
   arise among you a prophet or a dreamer of dreams," that is, one holding
   office as a Doctor in the Church, who is believed by his disciples or
   auditors to teach by revelation: well,--what follows? "and giveth thee
   a sign or a wonder, and the sign or the wonder come to pass whereof he
   spake,"--he is pointing to some eminent doctor, whose learning is such
   that his followers believe him not only to know things human, but,
   moreover, to foreknow things superhuman, such as, their disciples
   commonly boast, were Valentinus, Donatus, Photinus, Apollinaris, and
   the rest of that sort! What next? "And shall say to thee, Let us go
   after other gods, whom thou knowest not, and serve them." What are
   those other gods but strange errors which thou knowest not, that is,
   new and such as were never heard of before? "And let us serve them;"
   that is, "Let us believe them, follow them." What last? "Thou shalt not
   hearken to the words of that prophet or dreamer of dreams." And why, I
   pray thee, does not God forbid to be taught what God forbids to be
   heard? "For the Lord, your God, trieth you, to know whether you love
   Him with all your heart and with all your soul." The reason is clearer
   than day why Divine Providence sometimes permits certain doctors of the
   Churches to preach new doctrines--"That the Lord your God may try you;"
   he says. And assuredly it is a great trial when one whom thou believest
   to be a prophet, a disciple of prophets, a doctor and defender of the
   truth, whom thou hast folded to thy breast with the utmost veneration
   and love, when such a one of a sudden secretly and furtively brings in
   noxious errors, which thou canst neither quickly detect, being held by
   the prestige of former authority, nor lightly think it right to
   condemn, being prevented by affection for thine old master.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [461] Deut. xiii. 1, etc.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   Examples from Church History, confirming the words of
   Moses,--Nestorius, Photinus, Apollinaris.

   [29.] Here, perhaps, some one will require us to illustrate the words
   of holy Moses by examples from Church History. The demand is a fair
   one, nor shall it wait long for satisfaction.

   For to take first a very recent and very plain case: what sort of
   trial, think we, was that which the Church had experience of the other
   day, when that unhappy Nestorius, [462] all at once metamorphosed from
   a sheep into a wolf, began to make havoc of the flock of Christ, while
   as yet a large proportion of those whom he was devouring believed him
   to be a sheep, and consequently were the more exposed to his attacks?
   For who would readily suppose him to be in error, who was known to have
   been elected by the high choice of the Emperor, and to be held in the
   greatest esteem by the priesthood? who would readily suppose him to be
   in error, who, greatly beloved by the holy brethren, and in high favor
   with the populace, expounded the Scriptures in public daily, and
   confuted the pestilent errors both of Jews and Heathens? Who could
   choose but believe that his teaching was Orthodox, his preaching
   Orthodox, his belief Orthodox, who, that he might open the way to one
   heresy of his own, was zealously inveighing against the blasphemies of
   all heresies? But this was the very thing which Moses says: "The Lord
   your God doth try you that He may know whether you love Him or not."

   [30.] Leaving Nestorius, in whom there was always more that men admired
   than they were profited by, more of show than of reality, whom natural
   ability, rather than divine grace, magnified, for a time in the opinion
   of the common people, let us pass on to speak of those who, being
   persons of great attainments and of much industry, proved no small
   trial to Catholics. Such, for instance, was Photinus, in Pannonia,
   [463] who, in the memory of our fathers, is said to have been a trial
   to the Church of Sirmium, where, when he had been raised to the
   priesthood with universal approbation, and had discharged the office
   for some time as a Catholic, all of a sudden, like that evil prophet or
   dreamer of dreams whom Moses refers to, he began to persuade the people
   whom God had intrusted, to his charge, to follow "strange gods," that
   is, strange errors, which before they knew not. But there was nothing
   unusual in this: the mischief of the matter was, that for the
   perpetration of so great wickedness he availed himself of no ordinary
   helps. For he was of great natural ability and of powerful eloquence,
   and had a wealth of learning, disputing and writing copiously and
   forcibly in both languages, as his books which remain, composed partly
   in Greek, partly in Latin, testify. But happily the sheep of Christ
   committed to him, vigilant and wary for the Catholic faith, quickly
   turned their eyes to the premonitory words of Moses, and, though
   admiring the eloquence of their prophet and pastor, were not blind to
   the trial. For from thenceforward they began to flee from him as a
   wolf, whom formerly they had followed as the ram of the flock.

   [31.] Nor is it only in the instance of Photinus that we learn the
   danger of this trial to the Church, and are admonished withal of the
   need of double diligence in guarding the faith. Apollinaris [464] holds
   out a like warning. For he gave rise to great burning questions and
   sore perplexities among his disciples, the Church's authority drawing
   them one way, their Master's influence the opposite; so that, wavering
   and tossed hither and thither between the two, they were at a loss what
   course to take.

   But perhaps he was a person of no weight of character. On the contrary,
   he was so eminent and so highly esteemed that his word would only too
   readily be taken on whatsoever subject. For what could exceed his
   acuteness, his adroitness, his learning? How many heresies did he, in
   many volumes, annihilate! How many errors, hostile to the faith, did he
   confute! A proof of which is that most noble and vast work, of not less
   than thirty books, in which, with a great mass of arguments, he
   repelled the insane calumnies of Porphyry. [465] It would take a long
   time to enumerate all his works, which assuredly would have placed him
   on a level with the very chief of the Church's builders, if that
   profane lust of heretical curiosity had not led him to devise I know
   not what novelty which as though through the contagion of a sort of
   leprosy both defiled all his labours, and caused his teachings to be
   pronounced the Church's trial instead of the Church's edification.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [462] Nestorius was a native of Germanicia, a town in the patriarchate
   of Antioch, of which Church he became a Presbyter. On the See of
   Constantinople becoming vacant by the death of Sisinnius, the Emperor
   Theodosius sent for him and caused him to be consecrated Archbishop. He
   was at first extremely popular, and so eloquent that people said of him
   (what was much to be said of a successor of Chrysostom), that there had
   never before been such a bishop. He was condemned by the Council of
   Ephesus, in 431. The emperor, after ordering him to return to the
   monastery to which he formally belonged, eventually banished him to the
   great Oasis, whence he was harried from place to place till death put
   an end to his sufferings, in 440. Evagrius, I. 7.

   [463] Photinus, bishop of Sirmium in Pannonia, was a native of Galatia,
   and a disciple of Marcellus of Ancyra. Bishop Pearson (on the Creed,
   Art. 11) has an elaborate note, in which he collects together many
   notices of him left by the ancients. These agree with Vincentius in
   representing him as a man of extraordinary ability and of consummate
   eloquence. His heresy consisted in the denial of our blessed Lord's
   divine nature, whom he regarded as man, and nothing more, psilos
   anthropos, and as having had no existence before his birth of the
   Virgin. He was condemned in several synods, the fifth of which, a
   Council of the Western bishops, held at Sirmium, in 350, deposed him.
   But in spite of the deposition, so great was his popularity, that he
   could not even yet be removed. The following year however he was by
   another council, held at the same place, again condemned, and sent into
   banishment. He died in Galatia in 377. See Cave, Hist. Lit., who refers
   with praise to a learned dissertation on Photinus by Larroque.

   [464] Apollinaris the younger (a contemporary of Photinus), bishop of
   Laodicea in Syria, was one of the most distinguished men of the age in
   which he lived. Epiphanius (Haer. lxxvii. 2), referring to his fall
   into heresy, says that when it first began to be spoken of, people
   would hardly credit it, so great was the estimation in which he was
   held. His heresy, which consisted in the denial of the verity of our
   Lord's human nature, the Divine Word supplying the place of the
   rational soul, and in the assertion that his flesh was not derived from
   the Virgin, but was brought down from heaven, was condemned by the
   Council of Constantinople, in 381 (Canon I.). It was in reference to
   the latter form of it that the clause "of the Holy Ghost and the Virgin
   Mary" was inserted in the Nicene Creed.

   [465] This work of which St. Jerome speaks in high terms (de Viris
   Illustr., c. 104), has not come down to us, nor indeed have his other
   writings, except in fragments.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   A fuller account of the Errors of Photinus, Apollinaris and Nestorius.

   [32.] Here, possibly, I may be asked for some account of the above
   mentioned heresies; those, namely, of Nestorius, Apollinaris, and
   Photinus. This, indeed, does not belong to the matter in hand: for our
   object is not to enlarge upon the errors of individuals, but to produce
   instances of a few, in whom the applicability of Moses' words may be
   evidently and clearly seen; that is to say, that if at any time some
   Master in the Church, himself also a prophet in interpreting the
   mysteries of the prophets, should attempt to introduce some novel
   doctrine into the Church of God, Divine Providence permits this to
   happen in order to try us. It will be useful, therefore, by way of
   digression, to give a brief account of the opinions of the above-named
   heretics, Photinus, Apollinaris, Nestorius.

   [33.] The heresy of Photinus, then, is as follows: He says that God is
   singular and sole, and is to be regarded as the Jews regarded Him. He
   denies the completeness of the Trinity, and does not believe that there
   is any Person of God the Word, or any Person of the Holy Ghost. Christ
   he affirms to be a mere man, whose original was from Mary. Hence he
   insists with the utmost obstinacy that we are to render worship only to
   the Person of God the Father, and that we are to honour Christ as man
   only. This is the doctrine of Photinus.

   [34.] Apollinaris, affecting to agree with the Church as to the unity
   of the Trinity, though not this even with entire soundness of belief,
   [466] as to the Incarnation of the Lord, blasphemes openly. For he says
   that the flesh of our Saviour was either altogether devoid of a human
   soul, or, at all events, was devoid of a rational soul. Moreover, he
   says that this same flesh of the Lord was not received from the flesh
   of the holy Virgin Mary, but came down from heaven into the Virgin;
   and, ever wavering and undecided, he preaches one while that it was
   co-eternal with God the Word, another that it was made of the divine
   nature of the Word. For, denying that there are two substances in
   Christ, one divine, the other human, one from the Father, the other
   from his mother, he holds that the very nature of the Word was divided,
   as though one part of it remained in God, the other was converted into
   flesh: so that whereas the truth says that of two substances there is
   one Christ, he affirms, contrary to the truth, that of the one divinity
   of Christ there are become two substances. This, then, is the doctrine
   of Apollinaris.

   [35.] Nestorius, whose disease is of an opposite kind, while pretending
   that he holds two distinct substances in Christ, brings in of a sudden
   two Persons, and with unheard of wickedness would have two sons of God,
   two Christs,--one, God, the other, man, one, begotten of his Father,
   the other, born of his mother. For which reason he maintains that Saint
   Mary ought to be called, not Theotocos (the mother of God), but
   Christotocos (the mother of Christ), seeing that she gave birth not to
   the Christ who is God, but to the Christ who is man. But if any one
   supposes that in his writings he speaks of one Christ, and preaches one
   Person of Christ, let him not lightly credit it. For either this is a
   crafty device, that by means of good he may the more easily persuade
   evil, according to that of the apostle, "That which is good was made
   death to me," [467] --either, I say, he craftily affects in some places
   in his writings to believe one Christ and one Person of Christ, or else
   he says that after the Virgin had brought forth, the two Persons were
   united into one Christ, though at the time of her conception or
   parturition, and for some short time afterwards, there were two
   Christs; so that forsooth, though Christ was born at first an ordinary
   man and nothing more, and not as yet associated in unity of Person with
   the Word of God, yet afterwards the Person of the Word assuming
   descended upon Him; and though now the Person assumed remains in the
   glory of God, yet once there would seem to have been no difference
   between Him and all other men.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [466] "Et hoc ipsum non plena fidei sanitate."--The Cambridge Ed.,
   1687, with Baluzius's notes appended, reads, "et hoc ipsum plena fidei
   sanctitate."

   [467] Rom. vii. 13.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   The Catholic Doctrine of the Trinity and the Incarnation explained.

   [36.] In these ways then do these rabid dogs, Nestorius, Apollinaris,
   and Photinus, bark against the Catholic faith: Photinus, by denying the
   Trinity; Apollinaris, by teaching that the nature of the Word is
   mutable, and refusing to acknowledge that there are two substances in
   Christ, denying moreover either that Christ had a soul at all, or, at
   all events, that he had a rational soul, and asserting that the Word of
   God supplied the place of the rational soul; Nestorius, by affirming
   that there were always or at any rate that once there were two Christs.
   But the Catholic Church, holding the right faith both concerning God
   and concerning our Saviour, is guilty of blasphemy neither in the
   mystery of the Trinity, nor in that of the Incarnation of Christ. For
   she worships both one Godhead in the plenitude of the Trinity, and the
   equality of the Trinity in one and the same majesty, and she confesses
   one Christ Jesus, not two; the same both God and man, the one as truly
   as the other. [468] One Person indeed she believes in Him, but two
   substances; two substances but one Person: Two substances, because the
   Word of God is not mutable, so as to be convertible into flesh; one
   Person, lest by acknowledging two sons she should seem to worship not a
   Trinity, but a Quaternity.

   [37.] But it will be well to unfold this same doctrine more distinctly
   and explicitly again and again.

   In God there is one substance, but three Persons; in Christ two
   substances, but one Person. In the Trinity, another and another Person,
   not another and another substance (distinct Persons, not distinct
   substances); [469] in the Saviour another and another substance, not
   another and another Person, (distinct substances, not distinct
   Persons). How in the Trinity another and another Person (distinct
   Persons) not another and another substance (distinct substances)? [470]
   Because there is one Person of the Father, another of the Son, another
   of the Holy Ghost; [471] but yet there is not another and another
   nature (distinct natures) but one and the same nature. How in the
   Saviour another and another substance, not another and another Person
   (two distinct substances, not two distinct Persons)? Because there is
   one substance of the Godhead, another of the manhood. But yet the
   Godhead and the manhood are not another and another Person (two
   distinct Persons), but one and the same Christ, one and the same Son of
   God, and one and the same Person of one and the same Christ and Son of
   God, in like manner as in man the flesh is one thing and the soul
   another, but one and the same man, both soul and flesh. In Peter and
   Paul the soul is one thing, the flesh another; yet there are not two
   Peters,--one soul, the other flesh, or two Pauls, one soul, the other
   flesh,--but one and the same Peter, and one and the same Paul,
   consisting each of two diverse natures, soul and body. Thus, then, in
   one and the same Christ there are two substances, one divine, the other
   human; one of (ex) God the Father, the other of (ex) the Virgin Mother;
   one co-eternal with and co-equal with the Father, the other temporal
   and inferior to the Father; one consubstantial with his Father, the
   other, consubstantial with his Mother, but one and the same Christ in
   both substances. There is not, therefore, one Christ God, the other
   man, not one uncreated, the other created; not one impassible, the
   other passible; not one equal to the Father, the other inferior to the
   Father; not one of his Father (ex), the other of his Mother (ex), but
   one and the same Christ, God and man, the same uncreated and created,
   the same unchangeable and incapable of suffering, the same acquainted
   by experience with both change and suffering, the same equal to the
   Father and inferior to the Father, the same begotten of the Father
   before time, ("before the world"), the same born of his mother in time
   ("in the world"), [472] perfect God, perfect Man. In God supreme
   divinity, in man perfect humanity. Perfect humanity, I say, forasmuch
   as it hath both soul and flesh; the flesh, very flesh; our flesh, his
   mother's flesh; the soul, intellectual, endowed with mind and reason.
   There is then in Christ the Word, the soul, the flesh; but the whole is
   one Christ, one Son of God, and one our Saviour and Redeemer: One, not
   by I know not what corruptible confusion of Godhead and manhood, but by
   a certain entire and singular unity of Person. For the conjunction hath
   not converted and changed the one nature into the other, (which is the
   characteristic error of the Arians), but rather hath in such wise
   compacted both into one, that while there always remains in Christ the
   singularity of one and the self-same Person, there abides eternally
   withal the characteristic property of each nature; whence it follows,
   that neither doth God (i.e., the divine nature) ever begin to be body,
   nor doth the body ever cease to be body. The which may be illustrated
   in human nature: for not only in the present life, but in the future
   also, each individual man will consist of soul and body; nor will his
   body ever be converted into soul, or his soul into body; but while each
   individual man will live for ever, the distinction between the two
   substances will continue in each individual man for ever. So likewise
   in Christ each substance will for ever retain its own characteristic
   property, yet without prejudice to the unity of Person.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [468] Unum Christum Jesum non duos, eundemque Deum pariter atque
   Hominem confitetur. Compare the Athanasian Creed, "Est ergo fides recta
   et credamus et confiteamur, quia Dominus Noster Jesus Christus. Dei
   Filius, Deus pariter et Homo est."

   [469] In Trinitate alius atque alius, non aliud atque aliud. In
   Salvatore aliud atque aliud, non alius atque alius.

   [470] Aliud atque aliud, non alius atque alius.

   [471] Quia scilicet alia est Persona Patris, alia Filii, alia Spiritus
   Sancti sed tamen Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti non alia et alia
   sed una cadunque natura. So the Athanasian Creed, "Alia est enim
   Persona Patris, alia Filii, alia Spiritus Sancti, sed Patris et Filii
   et Spiritus Sancti una est Divinitas, etc." The coincidence between the
   whole of this context and the Athanasian Creed is very observable,
   though the agreement is not always exact to the very letter.

   [472] Idem ex Patre ante saecula genitus, Idem in saeculo ex matre
   generatus. Compare the Athanasian Creed, "Deus est ex substantia Patris
   ante saecula genitus; Homo ex substantia Matris in saeculo natus." See
   Appendix I.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   Jesus Christ Man in Truth, not in Semblance.

   [38.] But when we use the word "Person," and say that God became man by
   means of a Person, there is reason to fear that our meaning may be
   taken to be, that God the Word assumed our nature merely in imitation,
   and performed the actions of man, being man not in reality, but only in
   semblance, just as in a theatre, one man within a brief space
   represents several persons, not one of whom himself is. For when one
   undertakes to sustain the part of another, he performs the offices, or
   does the acts, of the person whose part he sustains, but he is not
   himself that person. So, to take an illustration from secular life and
   one in high favour with the Manichees, when a tragedian represents a
   priest or a king, he is not really a priest or a king. For, as soon as
   the play is over, the person or character whom he represented ceases to
   be. God forbid that we should have anything to do with such nefarious
   and wicked mockery. Be it the infatuation of the Manichees, those
   preachers of hallucination, who say that the Son of God, God, was not a
   human person really and truly, but that He counterfeited the person of
   a man in feigned conversation and manner of life.

   [39.] But the Catholic Faith teaches that the Word of God became man in
   such wise, that He took upon Him our nature, not feignedly and in
   semblance, but in reality and truth, and performed human actions, not
   as though He were imitating the actions of another, but as performing
   His own, and as being in reality the person whose part He sustained.
   Just as we ourselves also, when we speak, reason, live, subsist, do not
   imitate men, but are men. Peter and John, for instance, were men, not
   by imitation, but by being men in reality. Paul did not counterfeit an
   apostle, or feign himself to be Paul, but was an apostle, was Paul. So,
   also, that which God the Word did, in His condescension, in assuming
   and having flesh, in speaking, acting, and suffering, through the
   instrumentality of flesh, yet without any marring of His own divine
   nature, came in one word to this:--He did not imitate or feign Himself
   to be perfect man, but He shewed Himself to be very man in reality and
   truth. Therefore, as the soul united to the flesh, but yet not changed
   into flesh, does not imitate man, but is man, and man not feignedly but
   substantially, so also God the Word, without any conversion of Himself,
   in uniting Himself to man, became man, not by confusion, not by
   imitation, but by actually being and subsisting. Away then, once and
   for all, with the notion of His Person as of an assumed fictitious
   character, where always what is is one thing, what is counterfeited
   another, where the man who acts never is the man whose part he acts.
   God forbid that we should believe God the Word to have taken upon
   Himself the person of a man in this illusory way. Rather let us
   acknowledge that while His own unchangeable substance remained, and
   while He took upon Himself the nature of perfect man, Himself actually
   was flesh, Himself actually was man, Himself actually was personally
   man; not feignedly, but in truth, not in imitation, but in substance;
   not, finally, so as to cease to be when the performance was over, but
   so as to be, and continue to be substantially and permanently. [473]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [473] The word "Person" is used in this and the preceding section in a
   way which might seem at variance with Catholic truth. Christ did not
   assume the Person of a man; but, being God, He united in his one divine
   Person, the Godhead and the Manhood. This Vincentius himself teaches
   most explicitly. But his object here is to show that our blessed Lord,
   while conversant among us as man, and being to all appearance man, did
   not personate man, but was man in deed and in truth. The misconception
   against which Vincentius seeks to guard arises from the ambiguity of
   the Latin Persona, an ambiguity which is not continued in our derived
   word Person. Persona signifies not only Person, in our sense of the
   word, but also an assumed character. Though however we have not this
   sense in Person, we have it in Personate.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   The Union of the Divine with the Human Nature took place in the very
   Conception of the Virgin. The appellation "The Mother of God."

   [40.] This unity of Person, then, in Christ was not effected after His
   birth of the Virgin, but was compacted and perfected in her very womb.
   For we must take most especial heed that we confess Christ not only
   one, but always one. For it were intolerable blasphemy, if while thou
   dost confess Him one now, thou shouldst maintain that once He was not
   one, but two; one forsooth since His baptism, but two at His birth.
   Which monstrous sacrilege we shall assuredly in no wise avoid unless we
   acknowledge the manhood united to the Godhead (but by unity of Person),
   not from the ascension, or the resurrection, or the baptism, but even
   in His mother, even in the womb, even in the Virgin's very conception.
   [474] In consequence of which unity of Person, both those attributes
   which are proper to God are ascribed to man, and those which are proper
   to the flesh to God, indifferently and promiscuously. [475] For hence
   it is written by divine guidance, on the one hand, that the Son of man
   came down from heaven; [476] and on the other, that the Lord of glory
   was crucified on earth. [477] Hence it is also that since the Lord's
   flesh was made, since the Lord's flesh was created, the very Word of
   God is said to have been made, the very omniscient Wisdom of God to
   have been created, just as prophetically His hands and His feet are
   described as having been pierced. [478] From this unity of Person it
   follows, by reason of a like mystery, that, since the flesh of the Word
   was born of an undefiled mother, God the Word Himself is most
   Catholicly believed, most impiously denied, to have been born of the
   Virgin; which being the case, God forbid that any one should seek to
   defraud Holy Mary of her prerogative of divine grace and her special
   glory. For by the singular gift of Him who is our Lord and God, and
   withal, her own son, she is to be confessed most truly and most
   blessedly--The mother of God "Theotocos," but not in the sense in which
   it is imagined by a certain impious heresy which maintains, that she is
   to be called the Mother of God for no other reason than because she
   gave birth to that man who afterwards became God, just as we speak of a
   woman as the mother of a priest, or the mother of a bishop, meaning
   that she was such, not by giving birth to one already a priest or a
   bishop, but by giving birth to one who afterwards became a priest or a
   bishop. Not thus, I say, was the holy Mary "Theotocos," the mother of
   God, but rather, as was said before, because in her sacred womb was
   wrought that most sacred mystery whereby, on account of the singular
   and unique unity of Person, as the Word in flesh is flesh, so Man in
   God is God. [479]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [474] If the Son of God had taken to Himself a man now made and already
   perfected, it would of necessity follow that there are in Christ two
   persons, the one assuming and the other assumed; whereas, the Son of
   God did not assume a man's person unto His own, but a man's nature to
   His own person, and therefore took semen, the seed of Abraham, the very
   first original element of our nature, before it was come to have any
   personal human subsistence. The flesh, and the conjunction of the flesh
   with God, began both in one instant. His making and taking to Himself
   our flesh was but one act, so that in Christ there is no personal
   subsistence but one, and that from everlasting. By taking only the
   nature of man He still continueth one person, and changeth but the
   manner of His subsisting, which was before in the mere glory of the Son
   of God and is now in the habit of our flesh.--Hooker, Eccl. Pol. v. 52,
   S: 3.

   [475] "A kind of mutual commutation there is, whereby those concrete
   names, God and man, when we speak of Christ, do take interchangeably
   one another's room, so that for truth of speech, it skilleth not,
   whether we say that the Son of God hath created the world, and the Son
   of man by His death hath saved it, or else, that the Son of man did
   create, and the Son of God die to save the world. Howbeit, as oft as we
   attribute to God what the manhood of Christ claimeth, or to man what
   His Deity hath right unto, we understand by the name of God and the
   name of man neither the one nor the other nature, but the whole person
   of Christ, in whom both natures are."--Hooker, Eccl. Polity, v. 53, S:
   4. This is technically called "The Communication of Properties,"
   Communicatio idiomatum.

   [476] St. John iii. 13.

   [477] 1 Cor. ii. 8.

   [478] Ps. xxii. 16.

   [479] Sicut Verbum in carne caro, ita Homo in Deo Deus est. Compare the
   Athanasian Creed, v. 33, in what is probably the true reading, "Unus
   autem, non conversione Divinitatis in carne, sed assumptione
   Humanitatis in Deo."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   Recapitulation of what was said of the Catholic Faith and of divers
   Heresies, Chapters xi-xv.

   [41.] But now that we may refresh our remembrance of what has been
   briefly said concerning either the afore-mentioned heresies or the
   Catholic Faith, let us go over it again more briefly and concisely,
   that being repeated it may be more thoroughly understood, and being
   pressed home more firmly held.

   Accursed then be Photinus, who does not receive the Trinity complete,
   but asserts that Christ is mere man.

   Accursed be Apollinaris, who affirms that the Godhead of Christ is
   marred by conversion, and defrauds Him of the property of perfect
   humanity.

   Accursed be Nestorius, who denies that God was born of the Virgin,
   affirms two Christs, and rejecting the belief of the Trinity, brings in
   a Quaternity.

   But blessed be the Catholic Church, which worships one God in the
   completeness of the Trinity, and at the same time adores the equality
   of the Trinity in the unity of the Godhead, so that neither the
   singularity of substance confounds the propriety of the Persons, not
   the distinction of the Persons in the Trinity separates the unity of
   the Godhead.

   Blessed, I say, be the Church, which believes that in Christ there are
   two true and perfect substances but one Person, so that neither doth
   the distinction of natures divide the unity of Person, nor the unity of
   Person confound the distinction of substances.

   Blessed, I say, be the Church, which understands God to have become
   Man, not by conversion of nature, but by reason of a Person, but of a
   Person not feigned and transient, but substantial and permanent.

   Blessed, I say, be the Church, which declares this unity of Person to
   be so real and effectual, that because of it, in a marvellous and
   ineffable mystery, she ascribes divine attributes to man, and human to
   God; because of it, on the one hand, she does not deny that Man, as
   God, came down from heaven, on the other, she believes that God, as
   Man, was created, suffered, and was crucified on earth; because of it,
   finally, she confesses Man the Son of God, and God the Son of the
   Virgin.

   Blessed, then, and venerable, blessed and most sacred, and altogether
   worthy to be compared with those celestial praises of the Angelic Host,
   be the confession which ascribes glory to the one Lord God with a
   threefold ascription of holiness. For this reason moreover she insists
   emphatically upon the oneness of the Person of Christ, that she may not
   go beyond the mystery of the Trinity (that is by making in effect a
   Quaternity.)

   Thus much by way of digression. On another occasion, please God, we
   will deal with the subject and unfold it more fully. [480] Now let us
   return to the matter in hand.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [480] Anrtelmi, who ascribed the Athanasian Creed to Vincentius,
   thought that document a fulfilment of the promise here made. Nova de
   Symbolo Athanasiano Disquisitio.--See Appendix I.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   The Error of Origen a great Trial to the Church.

   [42.] We said above that in the Church of God the teacher's error is
   the people's trial, a trial by so much the greater in proportion to the
   greater learning of the erring teacher. This we showed first by the
   authority of Scripture, and then by instances from Church History, of
   persons who having at one time had the reputation of being sound in the
   faith, eventually either fell away to some sect already in existence,
   or else founded a heresy of their own. An important fact truly, useful
   to be learnt, and necessary to be remembered, and to be illustrated and
   enforced again and again, by example upon example, in order that all
   true Catholics may understand that it behoves them with the Church to
   receive Teachers, not with Teachers to desert the faith of the Church.

   [43.] My belief is, that among many instances of this sort of trial
   which might be produced, there is not one to be compared with that of
   Origen, [481] in whom there were many things so excellent, so unique,
   so admirable, that antecedently any one would readily deem that
   implicit faith was to be placed all his assertions. For if the
   conversation and manner of life carry authority, great was his
   industry, great his modesty, his patience, his endurance; if his
   descent or his erudition, what more noble than his birth of a house
   rendered illustrious by martyrdom? Afterwards, when in the cause of
   Christ he had been deprived not only of his father, but also of all his
   property, he attained so high a standard in the midst of the straits of
   holy poverty, that he suffered several times, it is said, as a
   Confessor. Nor were these the only circumstances connected with him,
   all of which afterwards proved an occasion of trial. He had a genius so
   powerful, so profound, so acute, so elegant, that there was hardly any
   one whom he did not very far surpass. The splendour of his learning,
   and of his erudition generally, was such that there were few points of
   divine philosophy, hardly any of human which he did not thoroughly
   master. When Greek had yielded to his industry, he made himself a
   proficient in Hebrew. What shall I say of his eloquence, the style of
   which was so charming, so soft, so sweet, that honey rather than words
   seemed to flow from his mouth! What subjects were there, however
   difficult, which he did not render clear and perspicuous by the force
   of his reasoning? What undertakings, however hard to accomplish, which
   he did not make to appear most easy? But perhaps his assertions rested
   simply on ingeniously woven argumentation?  On the contrary, no teacher
   ever used more proofs drawn from Scripture. Then I suppose he wrote
   little? No man more, so that, if I mistake not, his writings not only
   cannot all be read through, they cannot all be found; [482] for that
   nothing might be wanting to his opportunities of obtaining knowledge,
   he had the additional advantage of a life greatly prolonged. [483] But
   perhaps he was not particularly happy in his disciples? Who ever more
   so? From his school came forth doctors, priests, confessors, martyrs,
   without number. [484] Then who can express how much he was admired by
   all, how great his renown, how wide his influence? Who was there whose
   religion was at all above the common standard that did not hasten to
   him from the ends of the earth? What Christian did not reverence him
   almost as a prophet; what philosopher as a master? How great was the
   veneration with which he was regarded, not only by private persons, but
   also by the Court, is declared by the histories which relate how he was
   sent for by the mother of the Emperor Alexander, [485] moved by the
   heavenly wisdom with the love of which she, as he, was inflamed. To
   this also his letters bear witness, which, with the authority which he
   assumed as a Christian Teacher, he wrote to the Emperor Philip, [486]
   the first Roman prince that was a Christian. As to his incredible
   learning, if any one is unwilling to receive the testimony of
   Christians at our hands, let him at least accept that of heathens at
   the hands of philosophers. For that impious Porphyry says that when he
   was little more than a boy, incited by his fame, he went to Alexandria,
   and there saw him, then an old man, but a man evidently of so great
   attainments, that he had reached the summit of universal knowledge.

   [44.] Time would fail me to recount, even in a very small measure, the
   excellencies of this man, all of which, nevertheless, not only
   contributed to the glory of religion, but also increased the magnitude
   of the trial. For who in the world would lightly desert a man of so
   great genius, so great learning, so great influence, and would not
   rather adopt that saying, That he would rather be wrong with Origen,
   than be right with others. [487]

   What shall I say more? The result was that very many were led astray
   from the integrity of the faith, not by any human excellencies of this
   so great man, this so great doctor, this so great prophet, but, as the
   event showed, by the too perilous trial which he proved to be. Hence it
   came to pass, that this Origen, such and so great as he was, wantonly
   abusing the grace of God, rashly following the bent of his own genius,
   and placing overmuch confidence in himself, making light account of the
   ancient simplicity of the Christian religion, presuming that he knew
   more than all the world besides, despising the traditions of the Church
   and the determinations of the ancients, and interpreting certain
   passages of Scripture in a novel way, deserved for himself the warning
   given to the Church of God, as applicable in his case as in that of
   others, "If there arise a prophet in the midst of thee,"... "thou shalt
   not hearken to the words of that prophet,"..."because the Lord your God
   doth make trial of you, whether you love Him or not." [488] Truly, thus
   of a sudden to seduce the Church which was devoted to him, and hung
   upon him through admiration of his genius, his learning, his eloquence,
   his manner of life and influence, while she had no fear, no suspicion
   for herself,--thus, I say, to seduce the Church, slowly and little by
   little, from the old religion to a new profaneness, was not only a
   trial, but a great trial. [489]

   [45.] But some one will say, Origen's books have been corrupted. I do
   not deny it; nay, I grant it readily. For that such is the case has
   been handed down both orally and in writing, not only by Catholics, but
   by heretics as well. But the point is, that though himself be not, yet
   books published under his name are, a great trial, which, abounding in
   many hurtful blasphemies, are both read and delighted in, not as being
   some one else's, but as being believed to be his, so that, although
   there was no error in Origen's original meaning, yet Origen's authority
   appears to be an effectual cause in leading people to embrace error.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [481] Origen was born of Christian parents, at Alexandria, about the
   year 186. His father, Leonidas, suffered martyrdom in the persecution
   under Severus, in 202; and the family estate having been confiscated,
   his mother, with six younger children, became dependent upon him for
   her support. At the age of eighteen he was appointed by the bishop
   Demetrius over the Catechetical School of Alexandria, the duties of
   which place he discharged with eminent ability and success. He remained
   a layman till the age of forty-three, when he was admitted to priest's
   orders at Caesarea, greatly to the displeasure of Demetrius, by whose
   hand, according to the Church's rule, the office ought to have been
   conferred, and he was in consequence banished from Alexandria.
   Returning to Caesarea, he taught there with great reputation, and had
   many eminent persons among his disciples. He suffered much in the
   Decian persecution in 250, when he was thrown into prison and subjected
   to severe tortures. His works, as Vincentius says, were very numerous,
   including among them the Hexapla, a revised edition of the Hebrew
   Scriptures and of the Septuagint version, together with three other
   versions, the Hebrew being set forth in both Hebrew and Greek
   characters. His writings were corrupted in many instances, so that, as
   Vincentius says, opinions were often imputed to him which he would not
   have acknowledged. He died in his sixty-ninth year at Tyre, and was
   buried there.

   [482] "Quis nostrum," says St. Jerome, "potest tanta legere quanta ille
   conscripsit."--Hieron. ad Pam. et Occan.

   [483] He died, as was said in the preceding note, in his sixty-ninth
   year.

   [484] Among these were Gregory Thaumaturgus, Bishop of NeoCaesarea in
   Pontus, and Firmilian, Bishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia.

   [485] Mammea.

   [486] These are St. Jerome's words, from whose book, De Viris
   illustribus c. 54, Vincentius's account of Origen is taken. The vexed
   question of Philip's claim to be ranked as a Christian is discussed by
   Tillemont.--Histoire des Empereurs, T. iii. pp. 494 sqq.

   [487] Errare malo cum Platone quam cum istis vera sentire.--Cicero,
   Tuscul. Quaest. 1.

   [488] Deuteronomy xiii. 1.

   [489] "The great Origen died after his many labors in peace. His
   immediate pupils were saints and rulers in the Church. He has the
   praise of St. Athanasius, St. Basil, and St. Gregory Nazianzen, and
   furnishes materials to St. Ambrose and St. Hilary; yet, as time
   proceeded a definite heterodoxy was the growing result of his theology,
   and at length, three hundred years after his death, he was condemned,
   and, as has generally been considered, in an OEcumenical
   Council."--Newman on Development, p. 85, First Edition.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   Tertullian a great Trial to the Church.

   [46.] The case is the same with Tertullian. [490] For as Origen holds
   by far the first place among the Greeks, so does Tertullian among the
   Latins. For who more learned than he, who more versed in knowledge
   whether divine or human? With marvellous capacity of mind he
   comprehended all philosophy, and had a knowledge of all schools of
   philosophers, and of the founders and upholders of schools, and was
   acquainted with all their rules and observances, and with their various
   histories and studies. Was not his genius of such unrivalled strength
   and vehemence that there was scarcely any obstacle which he proposed to
   himself to overcome, that he did not penetrate by acuteness, or crush
   by weight? As to his style, who can sufficiently set forth its praise?
   It was knit together with so much cogency of argument that it compelled
   assent, even where it failed to persuade. Every word almost was a
   sentence; every sentence a victory. This know the Marcions, the
   Apelleses, the Praxeases, the Hermogeneses, the Jews, the Heathens, the
   Gnostics, and the rest, whose blasphemies he overthrew by the force of
   his many and ponderous volumes, as with so many thunderbolts. Yet this
   man also, notwithstanding all that I have mentioned, this Tertullian, I
   say, too little tenacious of Catholic doctrine, that is, of the
   universal and ancient faith, more eloquent by far than faithful, [491]
   changed his belief, and justified what the blessed Confessor, Hilary,
   writes of him, namely, that "by his subsequent error he detracted from
   the authority of his approved writings." [492] He also was a great
   trial in the Church. But of Tertullian I am unwilling to say more. This
   only I will add, that, contrary to the injunction of Moses, by
   asserting the novel furies of Montanus [493] which arose in the Church,
   and those mad dreams of new doctrine dreamed by mad women, to be true
   prophecies, he deservedly made both himself and his writings obnoxious
   to the words, "If there arise a prophet in the midst of thee,"..."thou
   shalt not hearken to the words of that prophet. "For why? "Because the
   Lord your God doth make trial of you, whether you love Him or not."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [490] Hardly anything is known of Tertullian, besides what may be
   gathered from his works, in addition to the following account given by
   St. Jerome (De Viris Illustribus), which I quote from Bishop Kaye's
   work on Tertullian and his writings: "Tertullian, a presbyter, the
   first Latin writer after Victor and Apollonius, was a native of the
   province of Africa and city of Carthage, the son of a proconsular
   centurion. He was a man of a sharp and vehement temper, flourished
   under Severus and Caracalla, and wrote numerous works which, as they
   are generally known, I think it unnecessary to particularize. I saw at
   Concordia, in Italy, an old man named Paulus who said that, when young,
   he had met at Rome with an aged amanuensis of the blessed Cyprian, who
   told him that Cyprian never passed a day without reading some portion
   of Tertullian's works, and used frequently to say, Give me my master,'
   meaning Tertullian. After remaining a presbyter of the Church till he
   had attained the middle of life, Tertullian was by the cruel and
   contumelious treatment of the Roman clergy driven to embrace the
   opinions of Montanus, which he has mentioned in several of his works,
   under the title of The New Prophecy.' He is reported to have lived to a
   very advanced age." He was born about the middle of the second century,
   and flourished, according to the dates indicated above, between the
   years 190 and 216.

   [491] Fidelior, Baluz, Felicior, others.

   [492] In Mat. v.

   [493] Montanus, with his two prophetesses, professed that he was
   intrusted with a new dispensation,--a dispensation in advance of the
   Gospel, as the Gospel was in advance of the Law. His system was a
   protest against the laxity which had grown up in the Church, as has
   repeatedly been the case after revivals of religious fervor, verifying
   Tertullian's apophthegm, "Christiani fiunt, non nascuntur" (men become
   Christians, they are not born such). Its characteristics were extreme
   ascetism, rigorous fasting, the exaltation of celibacy, the absolute
   prohibition of second marriage, the expectation of our Lord's second
   advent as near at hand, the disparagement of the clergy in comparison
   with its own Paraclete-inspired teachers. It had its rise in Phrygia,
   and from thence spread throughout Asia Minor, thence it found its way
   to Southern Gaul, to Rome, to North Western Africa, in which last for a
   time it had many followers.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   What we ought to learn from these Examples.

   [47.] It behoves us, then, to give heed to these instances from Church
   History, so many and so great, and others of the same description, and
   to understand distinctly, in accordance with the rule laid down in
   Deuteronomy, that if at any time a Doctor in the Church have erred from
   the faith, Divine Providence permits it in order to make trial of us,
   whether or not we love God with all our heart and with all our mind.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   The Notes of a true Catholic.

   [48.] This being the case, he is the true and genuine Catholic who
   loves the truth of God, who loves the Church, who loves the Body of
   Christ, who esteems divine religion and the Catholic Faith above every
   thing, above the authority, above the regard, above the genius, above
   the eloquence, above the philosophy, of every man whatsoever; who sets
   light by all of these, and continuing steadfast and established in the
   faith, resolves that he will believe that, and that only, which he is
   sure the Catholic Church has held universally and from ancient time;
   but that whatsoever new and unheard-of doctrine he shall find to have
   been furtively introduced by some one or another, besides that of all,
   or contrary to that of all the saints, this, he will understand, does
   not pertain to religion, but is permitted as a trial, being instructed
   especially by the words of the blessed Apostle Paul, who writes thus in
   his first Epistle to the Corinthians, "There must needs be heresies,
   that they who are approved may be made manifest among you:" [494] as
   though he should say, This is the reason why the authors of Heresies
   are not forthwith rooted up by God, namely, that they who are approved
   may be made manifest; that is, that it may be apparent of each
   individual, how tenacious and faithful and steadfast he is in his love
   of the Catholic faith.

   [49.] And in truth, as each novelty springs up incontinently is
   discerned the difference between the weight of the wheat and the
   lightness of the chaff. Then that which had no weight to keep it on the
   floor is without difficulty blown away. For some at once fly off
   entirely; others having been only shaken out, afraid of perishing,
   wounded, half alive, half dead, are ashamed to return. They have, in
   fact swallowed a quantity of poison--not enough to kill, yet more than
   can be got rid of; it neither causes death, nor suffers to live. O
   wretched condition! With what surging tempestuous cares are they tossed
   about! One while, the error being set in motion, they are hurried
   whithersoever the wind drives them; another, returning upon themselves
   like refluent waves, they are dashed back: one while, with rash
   presumption, they give their approval to what seems uncertain; another,
   with irrational fear, they are frightened out of their wits at what is
   certain, in doubt whither to go, whither to return, what to seek, what
   to shun, what to keep, what to throw away.

   [50.] This affliction, indeed, of a hesitating and miserably
   vacillating mind is, if they are wise, a medicine intended for them by
   God's compassion. For therefore it is that outside the most secure
   harbour of the Catholic Faith, they are tossed about, beaten, and
   almost killed, by divers tempestuous cogitations, in order that they
   may take in the sails of self-conceit, which, they had with ill advice
   unfurled to the blasts of novelty, and may betake themselves again to,
   and remain stationary within, the most secure harbour of their placid
   and good mother, and may begin by vomiting up those bitter and turbid
   floods of error which they had swallowed, that thenceforward they may
   be able to drink the streams of fresh and living water. Let them
   unlearn well what they had learnt not well, and let them receive so
   much of the entire doctrine of the Church as they can understand: what
   they cannot understand let them believe.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [494] 1 Cor. ii. 9.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   Exposition of St. Paul's Words.--1 Tim. vi. 20.

   [51.] Such being the case, when I think over these things, and revolve
   them in my mind again and again, I cannot sufficiently wonder at the
   madness of certain men, at the impiety of their blinded understanding,
   at their lust of error, such that, not content with the rule of faith
   delivered once for all, and received from the times of old, they are
   every day seeking one novelty after another, and are constantly longing
   to add, change, take away, in religion, as though the doctrine, "Let
   what has once for all been revealed suffice," were not a heavenly but
   an earthly rule,--a rule which could not be complied with except by
   continual emendation, nay, rather by continual fault-finding; whereas
   the divine Oracles cry aloud, "Remove not the landmarks, which thy
   fathers have set," [495] and "Go not to law with a Judge," [496] and
   "Whoso breaketh through a fence a serpent shall bite him," [497] and
   that saying of the Apostle wherewith, as with a spiritual sword, all
   the wicked novelties of all heresies often have been, and will always
   have to be, decapitated, "O Timothy, keep the deposit, shunning profane
   novelties of words and oppositions of the knowledge falsely so called,
   which some professing have erred concerning the faith." [498]

   [52.] After words such as these, is there any one of so hardened a
   front, such anvil-like impudence, such adamantine pertinacity, as not
   to succumb to so huge a mass, not to be crushed by so ponderous a
   weight, not to be shaken in pieces by such heavy blows, not to be
   annihilated by such dreadful thunderbolts of divine eloquence? "Shun
   profane novelties," he says. He does not say shun "antiquity." But he
   plainly points to what ought to follow by the rule of contrary. For if
   novelty is to be shunned, antiquity is to be held fast; if novelty is
   profane, antiquity is sacred. He adds, "And oppositions of science
   falsely so called." "Falsely called" indeed, as applied to the
   doctrines of heretics, where ignorance is disguised under the name of
   knowledge, fog of sunshine, darkness of light. "Which some professing
   have erred concerning the faith." Professing what? What but some (I
   know not what) new and unheard-of doctrine. For thou mayest hear some
   of these same doctors say, "Come, O silly wretches, who go by the name
   of Catholics, come and learn the true faith, which no one but ourselves
   is acquainted with, which same has lain hid these many ages, but has
   recently been revealed and made manifest. But learn it by stealth and
   in secret, for you will be delighted with it. Moreover, when you have
   learnt it, teach it furtively, that the world may not hear, that the
   Church may not know. For there are but few to whom it is granted to
   receive the secret of so great a mystery." Are not these the words of
   that harlot who, in the proverbs of Solomon, calls to the passengers
   who go right on their ways, "Whoso is simple let him turn in hither."
   And as for them that are void of understanding, she exhorts them
   saying: "Drink stolen waters, for they are sweet, and eat bread in
   secret for it is pleasant." What next? "But he knoweth not that the
   sons of earth perish in her house." [499] Who are those "sons of
   earth"? Let the apostle explain: "Those who have erred concerning the
   faith."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [495] Prov. xxii. 28.

   [496] Ecclus. viii. 14.

   [497] Eccles. x. 8.

   [498] 1 Tim. vi. 20.

   [499] Prov. ix. 16-18.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   A more particular Exposition of 1 Tim. vi. 20.

   [53.] But it is worth while to expound the whole of that passage of the
   apostle more fully, "O Timothy, keep the deposit, avoiding profane
   novelties of words."

   "O!" The exclamation implies fore-knowledge as well as charity. For he
   mourned in anticipation over the errors which he foresaw. Who is the
   Timothy of to-day, but either generally the Universal Church, or in
   particular, the whole body of The Prelacy, whom it behoves either
   themselves to possess or to communicate to others a complete knowledge
   of religion? What is "Keep the deposit"? "Keep it," because of thieves,
   because of adversaries, lest, while men sleep, they sow tares over that
   good wheat which the Son of Man had sown in his field. "Keep the
   deposit." What is "The deposit"? That which has been intrusted to thee,
   not that which thou hast thyself devised: a matter not of wit, but of
   learning; not of private adoption, but of public tradition; a matter
   brought to thee, not put forth by thee, wherein thou art bound to be
   not an author but a keeper, not a teacher but a disciple, not a leader
   but a follower. "Keep the deposit." Preserve the talent of Catholic
   Faith inviolate, unadulterate. That which has been intrusted to thee,
   let it continue in thy possession, let it be handed on by thee. Thou
   hast received gold; give gold in turn. Do not substitute one thing for
   another. Do not for gold impudently substitute lead or brass. Give real
   gold, not counterfeit.

   O Timothy! O Priest! O Expositor! O Doctor! if the divine gift hath
   qualified thee by wit, by skill, by learning, be thou a Bazaleel of the
   spiritual tabernacle, [500] engrave the precious gems of divine
   doctrine, fit them in accurately, adorn them skilfully, add splendor,
   grace, beauty. Let that which formerly was believed, though imperfectly
   apprehended, as expounded by thee be clearly understood. Let posterity
   welcome, understood through thy exposition, what antiquity venerated
   without understanding. Yet teach still the same truths which thou hast
   learnt, so that though thou speakest after a new fashion, what thou
   speakest may not be new.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [500] Exod. xxxi. 1, etc.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIII.

   On Development in Religious Knowledge.

   [54.] But some one will say, perhaps, Shall there, then, be no progress
   in Christ's Church? Certainly; all possible progress. For what being is
   there, so envious of men, so full of hatred to God, who would seek to
   forbid it? Yet on condition that it be real progress, not alteration of
   the faith. For progress requires that the subject be enlarged in
   itself, alteration, that it be transformed into something else. The
   intelligence, then, the knowledge, the wisdom, as well of individuals
   as of all, as well of one man as of the whole Church, ought, in the
   course of ages and centuries, to increase and make much and vigorous
   progress; but yet only in its own kind; that is to say, in the same
   doctrine, in the same sense, and in the same meaning.

   [55.] The growth of religion in the soul must be analogous to the
   growth of the body, which, though in process of years it is developed
   and attains its full size, yet remains still the same. There is a wide
   difference between the flower of youth and the maturity of age; yet
   they who were once young are still the same now that they have become
   old, insomuch that though the stature and outward form of the
   individual are changed, yet his nature is one and the same, his person
   is one and the same. An infant's limbs are small, a young man's large,
   yet the infant and the young man are the same. Men when full grown have
   the same number of joints that they had when children; and if there be
   any to which maturer age has given birth these were already present in
   embryo, so that nothing new is produced in them when old which was not
   already latent in them when children. This, then, is undoubtedly the
   true and legitimate rule of progress, this the established and most
   beautiful order of growth, that mature age ever develops in the man
   those parts and forms which the wisdom of the Creator had already
   framed beforehand in the infant. Whereas, if the human form were
   changed into some shape belonging to another kind, or at any rate, if
   the number of its limbs were increased or diminished, the result would
   be that the whole body would become either a wreck or a monster, or, at
   the least, would be impaired and enfeebled.

   [56.] In like manner, it behoves Christian doctrine to follow the same
   laws of progress, so as to be consolidated by years, enlarged by time,
   refined by age, and yet, withal, to continue uncorrupt and
   unadulterate, complete and perfect in all the measurement of its parts,
   and, so to speak, in all its proper members and senses, admitting no
   change, no waste of its distinctive property, no variation in its
   limits.

   [57.] For example: Our forefathers in the old time sowed wheat in the
   Church's field. It would be most unmeet and iniquitous if we, their
   descendants, instead of the genuine truth of corn, should reap the
   counterfeit error of tares. This rather should be the result,--there
   should be no discrepancy between the first and the last. From doctrine
   which was sown as wheat, we should reap, in the increase, doctrine of
   the same kind--wheat also; so that when in process of time any of the
   original seed is developed, and now flourishes under cultivation, no
   change may ensue in the character of the plant. There may supervene
   shape, form, variation in outward appearance, but the nature of each
   kind must remain the same. God forbid that those rose-beds of Catholic
   interpretation should be converted into thorns and thistles. God forbid
   that in that spiritual paradise from plants of cinnamon and balsam,
   darnel and wolfsbane should of a sudden shoot forth.

   Therefore, whatever has been sown by the fidelity of the Fathers in
   this husbandry of God's Church, the same ought to be cultivated and
   taken care of by the industry of their children, the same ought to
   flourish and ripen, the same ought to advance and go forward to
   perfection. For it is right that those ancient doctrines of heavenly
   philosophy should, as time goes on, be cared for, smoothed, polished;
   but not that they should be changed, not that they should be maimed,
   not that they should be mutilated. They may receive proof,
   illustration, definiteness; but they must retain withal their
   completeness, their integrity, their characteristic properties.

   [58.] For if once this license of impious fraud be admitted, I dread to
   say in how great danger religion will be of being utterly destroyed and
   annihilated. For if any one part of Catholic truth be given up,
   another, and another, and another will thenceforward be given up as a
   matter of course, and the several individual portions having been
   rejected, what will follow in the end but the rejection of the whole?
   On the other hand, if what is new begins to be mingled with what is
   old, foreign with domestic, profane with sacred, the custom will of
   necessity creep on universally, till at last the Church will have
   nothing left untampered with, nothing unadulterated, nothing sound,
   nothing pure; but where formerly there was a sanctuary of chaste and
   undefiled truth, thenceforward there will be a brothel of impious and
   base errors. May God's mercy avert this wickedness from the minds of
   his servants; be it rather the frenzy of the ungodly.

   [59.] But the Church of Christ, the careful and watchful guardian of
   the doctrines deposited in her charge, never changes anything in them,
   never diminishes, never adds, does not cut off what is necessary, does
   not add what is superfluous, does not lose her own, does not
   appropriate what is another's, but while dealing faithfully and
   judiciously with ancient doctrine, keeps this one object carefully in
   view,--if there be anything which antiquity has left shapeless and
   rudimentary, to fashion and polish it, if anything already reduced to
   shape and developed, to consolidate and strengthen it, if any already
   ratified and defined, to keep and guard it. Finally, what other object
   have Councils ever aimed at in their decrees, than to provide that what
   was before believed in simplicity should in future be believed
   intelligently, that what was before preached coldly should in future be
   preached earnestly, that what was before practised negligently should
   thenceforward be practised with double solicitude? This, I say, is what
   the Catholic Church, roused by the novelties of heretics, has
   accomplished by the decrees of her Councils,--this, and nothing
   else,--she has thenceforward consigned to posterity in writing what she
   had received from those of olden times only by tradition, comprising a
   great amount of matter in a few words, and often, for the better
   understanding, designating an old article of the faith by the
   characteristic of a new name. [501]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [501] For instance, the proper Deity of our Blessed Lord by the word
   "Homousios," consubstantial, of one substance, essence, nature.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIV.

   Continuation of the Exposition of 1 Tim. vi. 20.

   [60.] But let us return to the apostle. "O Timothy," he says, "Guard
   the deposit, shunning profane novelties of words." "Shun them as you
   would a viper, as you would a scorpion, as you would a basilisk, lest
   they smite you not only with their touch, but even with their eyes and
   breath." What is "to shun"? Not even to eat [502] with a person of this
   sort. What is "shun"? "If anyone," says St. John, "come to you and
   bring not this doctrine." What doctrine? What but the Catholic and
   universal doctrine, which has continued one and the same through the
   several successions of ages by the uncorrupt tradition of the truth and
   so will continue for ever--"Receive him not into your house, neither
   bid him Godspeed, for he that biddeth him Godspeed communicates with
   him in his evil deeds." [503]

   [61.] "Profane novelties of words." What words are these? Such as have
   nothing sacred, nothing religious, words utterly remote from the inmost
   sanctuary of the Church which is the temple of God. "Profane novelties
   of words, that is, of doctrines, subjects, opinions, such as are
   contrary to antiquity and the faith of the olden time. Which if they be
   received, it follows necessarily that the faith of the blessed fathers
   is violated either in whole, or at all events in great part; it follows
   necessarily that all the faithful of all ages, all the saints, the
   chaste, the continent, the virgins, all the clergy, Deacons and
   Priests, so many thousands of Confessors, so vast an army of martyrs,
   such multitudes of cities and of peoples, so many islands, provinces,
   kings, tribes, kingdoms, nations, in a word, almost the whole earth,
   incorporated in Christ the Head, through the Catholic faith, have been
   ignorant for so long a tract of time, have been mistaken, have
   blasphemed, have not known what to believe, what to confess.

   [62.] "Shun profane novelties of words," which to receive and follow
   was never the part of Catholics; of heretics always was. In sooth, what
   heresy ever burst forth save under a definite name, at a definite
   place, at a definite time? Who ever originated a heresy that did not
   first dissever himself from the consentient agreement of the
   universality and antiquity of the Catholic Church? That this is so is
   demonstrated in the clearest way by examples. For who ever before that
   profane Pelagius [504] attributed so much antecedent strength to
   Free-will, as to deny the necessity of God's grace to aid it towards
   good in every single act? Who ever before his monstrous disciple
   Coelestius denied that the whole human race is involved in the guilt of
   Adam's sin? Who ever before sacrilegious Arius dared to rend asunder
   the unity of the Trinity? Who before impious Sabellius was so audacious
   as to confound the Trinity of the Unity? Who before cruellest Novatian
   represented God as cruel in that He had rather the wicked should die
   than that he should be converted and live? Who before Simon Magus, who
   was smitten by the apostle's rebuke, and from whom that ancient sink of
   every thing vile has flowed by a secret continuous succession even to
   Priscillian of our own time,--who, I say, before this Simon Magus,
   dared to say that God, the Creator, is the author of evil, that is, of
   our wickednesses, impieties, flagitiousnesses, inasmuch as he asserts
   that He created with His own hands a human nature of such a
   description, that of its own motion, and by the impulse of its
   necessity-constrained will, it can do nothing else, can will nothing
   else, but sin, seeing that tossed to and fro, and set on fire by the
   furies of all sorts of vices, it is hurried away by unquenchable lust
   into the utmost extremes of baseness?

   [63.] There are innumerable instances of this kind, which for brevity's
   sake, pass over; by all of which, however, it is manifestly and clearly
   shown, that it is an established law, in the case of almost all
   heresies, that they evermore delight in profane novelties, scorn the
   decisions of antiquity, and, through oppositions of science falsely so
   called, make shipwreck of the faith. On the other hand, it is the sure
   characteristic of Catholics to keep that which has been committed to
   their trust by the holy Fathers, to condemn profane novelties, and, in
   the apostle's words, once and again repeated, to anathematize every one
   who preaches any other doctrine than that which has been received.
   [505]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [502] 1 Cor. v. 11.

   [503] 2 John 10.

   [504] Pelagius, a monk, a Briton by birth, resident in Rome, where by
   the strictness of his life he had acquired a high reputation for
   sanctity, was led, partly perhaps by opposition to St. Augustine's
   teaching on the subject of election and predestination, partly by
   indignation at the laxity of professing Christians, who pleaded, in
   excuse for their low standard, the weakness of human nature, to insist
   upon man's natural power, and to deny his need of divine grace.
   Pelagius was joined by another monk, Coelestius, a younger man, with
   whom about the year 410, the year in which Rome was taken by the Goths,
   he began to teach openly and in public what before he had held and
   taught in private. After the sack of Rome, the two friends passed over
   into Africa, and from thence Pelagius proceeded to Palestine, where he
   was in two separate synods acquitted of the charge of heresy which had
   been brought against him by Orosius, a Spanish monk, whom Augustine had
   sent for that purpose. But in 416, two African synods condemned his
   doctrine, and Zosimus bishop of Rome, whom he had appealed to, though
   he had set aside their decision, was eventually obliged to yield to the
   firmness with which they held their ground, and not only to condemn
   Pelagius, but to take stringent measures against his adherents. "In
   418, another African synod of two hundred and fourteen bishops passed
   nine canons, which were afterwards generally accepted throughout the
   Church, and came to be regarded as the most important bulwark against
   Pelagianism." The heresy was formally condemned, in 431, by the General
   Council of Ephesus. Canons 2 and 4. The Pelagians denied the corruption
   of man's nature, and the necessity of divine grace. They held that
   infants new-born are in the same state in which Adam was before his
   fall; that Adam's sin injured no one but himself, and affected his
   posterity no other wise than by the evil example which it afforded;
   they held also that men may live without sin if they will and that some
   have so lived. Those who were afterwards called semi-Pelagians (they
   belonged chiefly to the churches of Southern Gaul) were orthodox except
   in one particular: In their anxiety to justify, as they thought, God's
   dealings with man, they held that the first step in the way of
   salvation must be from ourselves: we must ask that we may receive, seek
   that we may find, knock that it may be opened to us; thenceforward in
   every stage of the road, our strenuous efforts must be aided by divine
   grace. They did not understand, or did not grant, that to that same
   grace must be referred even the disposition to ask, to seek, to knock.
   See Prosper's letter to Augustine, August. Opera, Tom. x. The
   semi-Pelagian doctrine was condemned in the second Council of Orange
   (a.d. 529), the third and fifth canons of which are directed against
   it.

   [505] Gal. ii. 9.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXV.

   Heretics appeal to Scripture that they may more easily succeed in
   deceiving.

   [64.] Here, possibly, some one may ask, Do heretics also appeal to
   Scripture? They do indeed, and with a vengeance; for you may see them
   scamper through every single book of Holy Scripture,--through the books
   of Moses, the books of Kings, the Psalms, the Epistles, the Gospels,
   the Prophets. Whether among their own people, or among strangers, in
   private or in public, in speaking or in writing, at convivial meetings,
   or in the streets, hardly ever do they bring forward anything of their
   own which they do not endeavour to shelter under words of Scripture.
   Read the works of Paul of Samosata, of Priscillian, of Eunomius, of
   Jovinian, and the rest of those pests, and you will see an infinite
   heap of instances, hardly a single page, which does not bristle with
   plausible quotations from the New Testament or the Old.

   [65.] But the more secretly they conceal themselves under shelter of
   the Divine Law, so much the more are they to be feared and guarded
   against. For they know that the evil stench of their doctrine will
   hardly find acceptance with any one if it be exhaled pure and simple.
   They sprinkle it over, therefore, with the perfume of heavenly
   language, in order that one who would be ready to despise human error,
   may hesitate to condemn divine words. They do, in fact, what nurses do
   when they would prepare some bitter draught for children; they smear
   the edge of the cup all round with honey, that the unsuspecting child,
   having first tasted the sweet, may have no fear of the bitter. So too
   do these act, who disguise poisonous herbs and noxious juices under the
   names of medicines, so that no one almost, when he reads the label,
   suspects the poison.

   [66.] It was for this reason that the Saviour cried, "Beware of false
   prophets who come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are
   ravening wolves." [506] What is meant by "sheep's clothing"? What but
   the words which prophets and apostles with the guilelessness of sheep
   wove beforehand as fleeces, for that immaculate Lamb which taketh away
   the sin of the world? What are the ravening wolves? What but the savage
   and rabid glosses of heretics, who continually infest the Church's
   folds, and tear in pieces the flock of Christ wherever they are able?
   But that they may with more successful guile steal upon the
   unsuspecting sheep, retaining the ferocity of the wolf, they put off
   his appearance, and wrap themselves, so to say, in the language of the
   Divine Law, as in a fleece, so that one, having felt the softness of
   wool, may have no dread of the wolf's fangs. But what saith the
   Saviour? "By their fruits ye shall know them;" that is, when they have
   begun not only to quote those divine words, but also to expound them,
   not as yet only to make a boast of them as on their side, but also to
   interpret them, then will that bitterness, that acerbity, that rage, be
   understood; then will the ill-savour of that novel poison be perceived,
   then will those profane novelties be disclosed, then may you see first
   the hedge broken through, then the landmarks of the Fathers removed,
   then the Catholic faith assailed, then the doctrine of the Church torn
   in pieces.

   [67.] Such were they whom the Apostle Paul rebukes in his Second
   Epistle to the Corinthians, when he says, "For of this sort are false
   apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into apostles of
   Christ." [507] The apostles brought forward instances from Holy
   Scripture; these men did the same. The apostles cited the authority of
   the Psalms; these men did so likewise. The apostles brought forward
   passages from the prophets; these men still did the same. But when they
   began to interpret in different senses the passages which both had
   agreed in appealing to, then were discerned the guileless from the
   crafty, the genuine from the counterfeit, the straight from the
   crooked, then, in one word, the true apostles from the false apostles.
   "And no wonder," he says, "for Satan himself transforms himself into an
   angel of light. It is no marvel then if his servants are transformed as
   the servants of righteousness." Therefore, according to the authority
   of the Apostle Paul, as often as either false apostles or false
   teachers cite passages from the Divine Law, by means of which,
   misinterpreted, they seek to prop up their own errors, there is no
   doubt that they are following the cunning devices of their father,
   which assuredly he would never have devised, but that he knew that
   where he could fraudulently and by stealth introduce error, there is no
   easier way of effecting his impious purpose than by pretending the
   authority of Holy Scripture.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [506] Matt. vii. 15.

   [507] 2 Cor. xi. 12.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVI.

   Heretics, in quoting Scripture, follow the example of the Devil.

   [68.] But some one will say, What proof have we that the Devil is wont
   to appeal to Holy Scripture? Let him read the Gospels wherein it is
   written, "Then the Devil took Him (the Lord the Saviour) and set Him
   upon a pinnacle of the Temple, and said unto Him: If thou be the Son of
   God, cast thyself down, for it is written, He shall give His angels
   charge concerning thee, that they may keep thee in all thy ways: In
   their hands they shall bear thee up, lest perchance thou dash thy foot
   against a stone." [508] What sort of treatment must men, insignificant
   wretches that they are, look for at the hands of him who assailed even
   the Lord of Glory with quotations from Scripture? "If thou be the Son
   of God," saith he, "cast thyself down." Wherefore? "For," saith he, "it
   is written." It behoves us to pay special attention to this passage and
   bear it in mind, that, warned by so important an instance of
   Evangelical authority, we may be assured beyond doubt, when we find
   people alleging passages from the Apostles or Prophets against the
   Catholic Faith, that the Devil speaks through their mouths. For as then
   the Head spoke to the Head, so now also the members speak to the
   members, the members of the Devil to the members of Christ,
   misbelievers to believers, sacrilegious to religious, in one word,
   Heretics to Catholics.

   [69.] But what do they say? "If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself
   down;" that is, If thou wouldst be a son of God, and wouldst receive
   the inheritance of the Kingdom of Heaven, cast thyself down; that is,
   cast thyself down from the doctrine and tradition of that sublime
   Church, which is imagined to be nothing less than the very temple of
   God. And if one should ask one of the heretics who gives this advice,
   How do you prove? What ground have you, for saying, that I ought to
   cast away the universal and ancient faith of the Catholic Church? he
   has the answer ready, "For it is written;" and forthwith he produces a
   thousand testimonies, a thousand examples, a thousand authorities from
   the Law, from the Psalms, from the apostles, from the Prophets, by
   means of which, interpreted on a new and wrong principle, the unhappy
   soul may be precipitated from the height of Catholic truth to the
   lowest abyss of heresy. Then, with the accompanying promises, the
   heretics are wont marvellously to beguile the incautious. For they dare
   to teach and promise, that in their church, that is, in the conventicle
   of their communion, there is a certain great and special and altogether
   personal grace of God, so that whosoever pertain to their number,
   without any labour, without any effort, without any industry, even
   though they neither ask, nor seek, nor knock, have such a dispensation
   from God, that, borne up by angel hands, that is, preserved by the
   protection of angels, it is impossible they should ever dash their feet
   against a stone, that is, that they should ever be offended. [509]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [508] Matt. iv. 5, etc.

   [509] See Appendix II.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVII.

   What Rule is to be observed in the Interpretation of Scripture.

   [70.] But it will be said, If the words, the sentiments, the promises
   of Scripture, are appealed to by the Devil and his disciples, of whom
   some are false apostles, some false prophets and false teachers, and
   all without exception heretics, what are Catholics and the sons of
   Mother Church to do? How are they to distinguish truth from falsehood
   in the sacred Scriptures? They must be very careful to pursue that
   course which, in the beginning of this Commonitory, we said that holy
   and learned men had commended to us, that is to say, they must
   interpret the sacred Canon according to the traditions of the Universal
   Church and in keeping with the rules of Catholic doctrine, in which
   Catholic and Universal Church, moreover, they must follow universality,
   antiquity, consent. And if at any time a part opposes itself to the
   whole, novelty to antiquity, the dissent of one or a few who are in
   error to the consent of all or at all events of the great majority of
   Catholics, then they must prefer the soundness of the whole to the
   corruption of a part; in which same whole they must prefer the religion
   of antiquity to the profaneness of novelty; and in antiquity itself in
   like manner, to the temerity of one or of a very few they must prefer,
   first of all, the general decrees, if such there be, of a Universal
   Council, or if there be no such, then, what is next best, they must
   follow the consentient belief of many and great masters. Which rule
   having been faithfully, soberly, and scrupulously observed, we shall
   with little difficulty detect the noxious errors of heretics as they
   arise.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVIII.

   In what Way, on collating the consentient opinions of the Ancient
   Masters, the Novelties of Heretics may be detected and condemned.

   [71.] And here I perceive that, as a necessary sequel to the foregoing,
   I ought to show by examples in what way, by collating the consentient
   opinions of the ancient masters, the profane novelties of heretics may
   be detected and condemned. Yet in the investigation of this ancient
   consent of the holy Fathers we are to bestow our pains not on every
   minor question of the Divine Law, but only, at all events especially,
   where the Rule of Faith is concerned. Nor is this way of dealing with
   heresy to be resorted to always, or in every instance, but only in the
   case of those heresies which are new and recent, and that on their
   first arising, before they have had time to deprave the Rules of the
   Ancient Faith, and before they endeavour, while the poison spreads and
   diffuses itself, to corrupt the writings of the ancients. But heresies
   already widely diffused and of old standing are by no means to be thus
   dealt with, seeing that through lapse of time they have long had
   opportunity of corrupting the truth. And therefore, as to the more
   ancient schisms or heresies, we ought either to confute them, if need
   be, by the sole authority of the Scriptures, or at any rate, to shun
   them as having been already of old convicted and condemned by universal
   councils of the Catholic Priesthood.

   [72.] Therefore, as soon as the corruption of each mischievous error
   begins to break forth, and to defend itself by filching certain
   passages of Scripture, and expounding them fraudulently and
   deceitfully, forthwith, the opinions of the ancients in the
   interpretation of the Canon are to be collected, whereby the novelty,
   and consequently the profaneness, whatever it may be, that arises, may
   both without any doubt be exposed, and without any tergiversation be
   condemned. But the opinions of those Fathers only are to be used for
   comparison, who living and teaching, holily, wisely, and with
   constancy, in the Catholic faith and communion, were counted worthy
   either to die in the faith of Christ, or to suffer death happily for
   Christ. Whom yet we are to believe on this condition, that that only is
   to be accounted indubitable, certain, established, which either all, or
   the more part, have supported and confirmed manifestly, frequently,
   persistently, in one and the same sense, forming, as it were, a
   consentient council of doctors, all receiving, holding, handing on the
   same doctrine. But whatsoever a teacher holds, other than all, or
   contrary to all, be he holy and learned, be he a bishop, be he a
   Confessor, be he a martyr, let that be regarded as a private fancy of
   his own, and be separated from the authority of common, public, general
   persuasion, lest, after the sacrilegious custom of heretics and
   schismatics, rejecting the ancient truth of the universal Creed, we
   follow, at the utmost peril of our eternal salvation, the newly devised
   error of one man.

   [73.] Lest any one perchance should rashly think the holy and Catholic
   consent of these blessed fathers to be despised, the Apostle says, in
   the First Epistle to the Corinthians, "God hath placed some in the
   Church, first Apostles," [510] of whom himself was one; "secondly
   Prophets," such as Agabus, of whom we read in the Acts of the Apostles;
   [511] "then doctors," who are now called Homilists, Expositors, [512]
   whom the same apostle sometimes calls also "Prophets," because by them
   the mysteries of the Prophets are opened to the people. Whosoever,
   therefore, shall despise these, who had their appointment of God in His
   Church in their several times and places, when they are unanimous in
   Christ, in the interpretation of some one point of Catholic doctrine,
   despises not man, but God, from whose unity in the truth, lest any one
   should vary, the same Apostle earnestly protests, "I beseech you,
   brethren, that ye all speak the same thing, and that there be no
   divisions among you, but that ye be perfectly joined together in the
   same mind and in the same judgment." [513] But if any one dissent from
   their unanimous decision, let him listen to the words of the same
   apostle, "God is not the God of dissension but of peace;" [514] that
   is, not of him who departs from the unity of consent, but of those who
   remain steadfast in the peace of consent: "as," he continues, "I teach
   in all Churches of the saints," that is, of Catholics, which churches
   are therefore churches of the saints, because they continue steadfast
   in the communion of the faith.

   [74.] And lest any one, disregarding every one else, should arrogantly
   claim to be listened to himself alone, himself alone to be believed,
   the Apostle goes on to say, "Did the word of God proceed from you, or
   did it come to you only?" And, lest this should be thought lightly
   spoken, he continues, "If any man seem to be a prophet or a spiritual
   person, let him acknowledge that the things which I write unto you are
   the Lord's commands." As to which, unless a man be a prophet or a
   spiritual person, that is, a master in spiritual matters, let him be as
   observant as possible of impartiality and unity, so as neither to
   prefer his own opinions to those of every one besides, nor to recede
   from the belief of the whole body. Which injunction, whoso ignores,
   shall be himself ignored; [515] that is, he who either does not learn
   what he does not know, or treats with contempt what he knows, shall be
   ignored, that is, shall be deemed unworthy to be ranked of God with
   those who are united to each other by faith, and equalled with each
   other by humility, than which I cannot imagine a more terrible evil.
   This it is however which, according to the Apostle's threatening, we
   see to have befallen Julian the Pelagian, [516] who either neglected to
   associate himself with the belief of his fellow Christians, or presumed
   to dissociate himself from it.

   [75.] But it is now time to bring forward the exemplification which we
   promised, where and how the sentences of the holy Fathers have been
   collected together, so that in accordance with them, by the decree and
   authority of a council, the rule of the Church's faith may be settled.
   Which that it may be done the more conveniently, let this present
   Commonitory end here, so that the remainder which is to follow may be
   begun from a fresh beginning.

   [The Second Book of the Commonitory is lost. Nothing of it remains but
   the conclusion: in other words, the recapitulation which follows.]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [510] 1 Cor. xii. 27, 28.

   [511] Acts xi. 28.

   [512] "Tractatores." St. Augustine's Expository Lectures on St. John's
   Gospel are entitled "Tractatus."

   [513] 1 Cor. i. 10.

   [514] 1 Cor. xiv. 33.

   [515] 1 Cor. xiv. 33.

   [516] Julian, bishop of Eclanum, a small town in Apulia or Campania,
   was one of nineteen bishops, who, having espoused the cause of
   Pelagius, and having refused to subscribe a circular letter issued by
   Zosimus, now adopting the decisions of the African Council (see above
   note p. 147) were deposed and banished. St. Augustine at his death left
   a work against Julian unfinished, "Opus imperfectum contra Julianum,"
   in which he had been engaged till the sickness of which he died put an
   end to his labours.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIX.

   Recapitulation.

   [76.] This being the case, it is now time that we should recapitulate,
   at the close of this second Commonitory, what was said in that and in
   the preceding.

   We said above, that it has always been the custom of Catholics, and
   still is, to prove the true faith in these two ways; first by the
   authority of the Divine Canon, and next by the tradition of the
   Catholic Church. Not that the Canon alone does not of itself suffice
   for every question, but seeing that the more part, interpreting the
   divine words according to their own persuasion, take up various
   erroneous opinions, it is therefore necessary that the interpretation
   of divine Scripture should be ruled according to the one standard of
   the Church's belief, especially in those articles on which the
   foundations of all Catholic doctrine rest.

   [77.] We said likewise, that in the Church itself regard must be had to
   the consentient voice of universality equally with that of antiquity,
   lest we either be torn from the integrity of unity and carried away to
   schism, or be precipitated from the religion of antiquity into
   heretical novelties. We said, further, that in this same ecclesiastical
   antiquity two points are very carefully and earnestly to be held in
   view by those who would keep clear of heresy: first, they should
   ascertain whether any decision has been given in ancient times as to
   the matter in question by the whole priesthood of the Catholic Church,
   with the authority of a General Council: and, secondly, if some new
   question should arise on which no such decision has been given, they
   should then have recourse to the opinions of the holy Fathers, of those
   at least, who, each in his own time and place, remaining in the unity
   of communion and of the faith, were accepted as approved masters; and
   whatsoever these may be found to have held, with one mind and with one
   consent, this ought to be accounted the true and Catholic doctrine of
   the Church, without any doubt or scruple.

   [78.] Which lest we should seem to allege presumptuously on our own
   warrant rather than on the authority of the Church, we appealed to the
   example of the holy council which some three years ago was held at
   Ephesus [517] in Asia, in the consulship of Bassus and Antiochus,
   where, when question was raised as to the authoritative determining of
   rules of faith, lest, perchance, any profane novelty should creep in,
   as did the perversion of the truth at Ariminum, [518] the whole body of
   priests there assembled, nearly two hundred in number, approved of this
   as the most Catholic, the most trustworthy, and the best course, viz.,
   to bring forth into the midst the sentiments of the holy Fathers, some
   of whom it was well known had been martyrs, some Confessors, but all
   had been, and continued to the end to be, Catholic priests, in order
   that by their consentient determination the reverence due to ancient
   truth might be duly and solemnly confirmed, and the blasphemy of
   profane novelty condemned. Which having been done, that impious
   Nestorius was lawfully and deservedly adjudged to be opposed to
   Catholic antiquity, and contrariwise blessed Cyril to be in agreement
   with it. And that nothing might be wanting to the credibility of the
   matter, we recorded the names and the number (though we had forgotten
   the order) of the Fathers, according to whose consentient and unanimous
   judgment, both the sacred preliminaries of judicial procedure were
   expounded, and the rule of divine truth established. Whom, that we may
   strengthen our memory, it will be no superfluous labour to mention
   again here also.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [517] The Council of Ephesus, summoned by the Emperor Theodosius to
   meet at Whitsuntide, 431 (June 7), held its first sitting on June 22,
   in the Church of St. Mary, where the blessed Virgin was believed to
   have been buried.

   [518] See note above, p. 131, n. 3.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXX.

   The Council of Ephesus.

   [79.] These then are the men whose writings, whether as judges or as
   witnesses, were recited in the Council: St. Peter, bishop of
   Alexandria, a most excellent Doctor and most blessed martyr, Saint
   Athanasius, bishop of the same city, a most faithful Teacher, and most
   eminent Confessor, Saint Theophilus, also bishop of the same city, a
   man illustrious for his faith, his life, his knowledge, whose
   successor, the revered Cyril, now [519] adorns the Alexandrian Church.
   And lest perchance the doctrine ratified by the Council should be
   thought peculiar to one city and province, there were added also those
   lights of Cappadocia, St. Gregory of Nazianzus, bishop and Confessor,
   St. Basil of Caesarea in Cappadocia, bishop and Confessor, and the
   other St. Gregory, St. Gregory of Nyssa, for his faith, his
   conversation, his integrity, and his wisdom, most worthy to be the
   brother of Basil. And lest Greece or the East should seem to stand
   alone, to prove that the Western and Latin world also have always held
   the same belief, there were read in the Council certain Epistles of St.
   Felix, martyr, and St. Julius, both bishops of Rome. And that not only
   the Head, but the other parts, of the world also might bear witness to
   the judgment of the council, there was added from the South the most
   blessed Cyprian, bishop of Carthage and martyr, and from the North St.
   Ambrose, bishop of Milan.

   [80.] These all then, to the sacred number of the decalogue, [520] were
   produced at Ephesus as doctors, councillors, witnesses, judges. And
   that blessed council holding their doctrine, following their counsel,
   believing their witness, submitting to their judgment without haste,
   without foregone conclusion, without partiality, gave their
   determination concerning the Rules of Faith. A much greater number of
   the ancients might have been adduced; but it was needless, because
   neither was it fit that the time should be occupied by a multitude of
   witnesses, nor does any one suppose that those ten were really of a
   different mind from the rest of their colleagues.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [519] This marks Vincentius's date within very narrow limits, viz.
   after the Council of Ephesus, and before Cyril's death. Cyril died in
   444.

   [520] Vincentius's copy of the acts of the Council appears to have
   contained extracts from no more than ten Fathers. But the Fathers from
   whose writings extracts were read were twelve in number; the two
   omitted by Vincentius being Atticus, bishop of Constantinople, and
   Amphilochius, bishop of Iconium. In Labbe's Concilia, where the whole
   are given, it is remarked that in one manuscript the two last mentioned
   occupy a different place from the others. Dean Milman (Latin
   Christianity, vol. 1, p. 164) speaks of the passages read, "as of very
   doubtful bearing on the question raised by Nestorius." It is true only
   two, those from Athanasius and Gregory Nazianzen, contain the crucial
   term "Theotocos" but all express the truth which "Theotocos"
   symbolises. That the word was not of recent introduction, Bishop
   Pearson (Creed, Art. 3) shows by quotations from other writers besides
   those produced at the Council, going back as far as to Origen. The
   Fathers cited may certainly be said to fulfil to some extent
   Vincentius's requirement of universality. They represent the teaching
   of Alexandria, Rome, Carthage, Milan, Constantinople, and Asia Minor;
   but his appeal would have been more to his purpose if antiquity had
   been more expressly represented. With the exception of Cyprian, all the
   passages cited were from writers of comparatively recent date at the
   time, though, as Vincentius truly remarks, others might have been
   produced. Petavius (De Incarn. l. xiv. c. 15), in defending the cultus
   of the blessed Virgin and of the saints generally, lays much stress on
   this omission of citations from earlier Fathers at the Council, as he
   does also on similar omissions in the case of the fourth, fifth, and
   sixth Councils, with what object is sufficiently obvious. Bishop Bull
   points out Petavius's disposition to disparage or misrepresent the
   teaching of the earlier Fathers, in another and still more important
   instance. (Defens. Fid. Nic.) Introd. S: 8.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXI.

   The Constancy of the Ephesine Fathers in driving away Novelty and
   maintaining Antiquity.

   [81.] After the preceding we added also the sentence of blessed Cyril,
   which is contained in these same Ecclesiastical Proceedings. For when
   the Epistle of Capreolus, [521] bishop of Carthage, had been read,
   wherein he earnestly intreats that novelty may be driven away and
   antiquity maintained, Cyril made and carried the proposal, which it may
   not be out of place to insert here: For says he, at the close of the
   proceedings, "Let the Epistle of Capreolus also, the reverend and very
   religious bishop of Carthage, which has been read, be inserted in the
   acts. His mind is obvious, for he intreats that the doctrines of the
   ancient faith be confirmed, such as are novel, wantonly devised, and
   impiously promulgated, reprobated and condemned." All the bishops cried
   out, "These are the words of all; this we all say, this we all desire."
   What mean "the words of all," what mean "the desires of all," but that
   what has been handed down from antiquity should be retained, what has
   been newly devised, rejected with disdain?

   [82.] Next we expressed our admiration of the humility and sanctity of
   that Council, such that, though the number of priests was so great,
   almost the more part of them metropolitans, so erudite, so learned,
   that almost all were capable of taking part in doctrinal discussions,
   whom the very circumstance of their being assembled for the purpose,
   might seem to embolden to make some determination on their own
   authority, yet they innovated nothing, presumed nothing, arrogated to
   themselves absolutely nothing, but used all possible care to hand down
   nothing to posterity but what they had themselves received from their
   Fathers. And not only did they dispose satisfactorily of the matter
   presently in hand, but they also set an example to those who should
   come after them, how they also should adhere to the determinations of
   sacred antiquity, and condemn the devices of profane novelty.

   [83.] We inveighed also against the wicked presumption of Nestorius in
   boasting that he was the first and the only one who understood holy
   Scripture, and that all those teachers were ignorant, who before him
   had expounded the sacred oracles, forsooth, the whole body of priests,
   the whole body of Confessors and martyrs, of whom some had published
   commentaries upon the Law of God, others had agreed with them in their
   comments, or had acquiesced in them. In a word, he confidently asserted
   that the whole Church was even now in error, and always had been in
   error, in that, as it seemed to him, it had followed, and was
   following, ignorant and misguided teachers.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [521] The letter of Capreolus is given in Labbe's Concilia, vol. 3,
   col. 529 sqq. The Emperor Theodosius had written to Augustine,
   requiring his presence at the Council which he had summoned to meet at
   Ephesus in the matter of Nestorius. But Augustine having died while the
   letter was on its way, it was brought to Capreolus, bishop of Carthage
   and Metropolitan. Capreolus would have summoned a meeting of the
   African bishops, that they might appoint a delegate to represent them
   at the Council; but the presence of the hostile Vandals, who were
   laying waste the country in all directions, made it impossible for the
   bishops to travel to any place of meeting. Capreolus therefore could do
   no more than send his deacon Besula to represent him and the African
   Church, bearing with him the letter referred to in the text. The
   letter, after having been read before the Council, both in the original
   Latin and in a Greek translation, was, on the motion of Cyril, inserted
   in the acts.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXII.

   The zeal of Celestine and Sixtus, bishops of Rome, in opposing Novelty.

   [84.] The foregoing would be enough and very much more than enough, to
   crush and annihilate every profane novelty. But yet that nothing might
   be wanting to such completeness of proof, we added, at the close, the
   twofold authority of the Apostolic See, first, that of holy Pope
   Sixtus, the venerable prelate who now adorns the Roman Church; and
   secondly that of his predecessor, Pope Celestine of blessed memory,
   which same we think it necessary to insert here also.

   Holy Pope Sixtus [522] then says in an Epistle which he wrote on
   Nestorius's matter to the bishop of Antioch, "Therefore, because, as
   the Apostle says, the faith is one,--evidently the faith which has
   obtained hitherto,--let us believe the things that are to be said, and
   say the things that are to be held." What are the things that are to be
   believed and to be said? He goes on: "Let no license be allowed to
   novelty, because it is not fit that any addition should be made to
   antiquity. Let not the clear faith and belief of our forefathers be
   fouled by any muddy admixture." A truly apostolic sentiment! He
   enhances the belief of the Fathers by the epithet of clearness; profane
   novelties he calls muddy.

   [85.] Holy Pope Celestine also expresses himself in like manner and to
   the same effect. For in the Epistle which he wrote to the priests of
   Gaul, charging them with connivance with error, in that by their
   silence they failed in their duty to the ancient faith, and allowed
   profane novelties to spring up, he says: "We are deservedly to blame if
   we encourage error by silence. Therefore rebuke these people. Restrain
   their liberty of preaching." But here some one may doubt who they are
   whose liberty to preach as they list he forbids,--the preachers of
   antiquity or the devisers of novelty. Let himself tell us; let himself
   resolve the reader's doubt. For he goes on: "If the case be so (that
   is, if the case be so as certain persons complain to me touching your
   cities and provinces, that by your hurtful dissimulation you cause them
   to consent to certain novelties), if the case be so, let novelty cease
   to assail antiquity." This, then, was the sentence of blessed
   Celestine, not that antiquity should cease to subvert novelty, but that
   novelty should cease to assail antiquity. [523]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [522] Sixtus III. See the Epistle in Labbe's Concilia, T. iii. Col.
   1262.

   [523] Celestine's letter will be found in the appendix to Vol. x., Part
   II., of St. Augustine's Works, col. 2403, Paris 1838. See the remarks
   on Vincentius's mode of dealing with Celestine's letter, Appendix III.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXIII.

   The Children of the Catholic Church ought to adhere to the Faith of
   their Fathers and die for it.

   [86.] Whoever then gainsays these Apostolic and Catholic
   determinations, first of all necessarily insults the memory of holy
   Celestine, who decreed that novelty should cease to assail antiquity;
   and in the next place sets at naught the decision of holy Sixtus, whose
   sentence was, "Let no license be allowed to novelty, since it is not
   fit that any addition be made to antiquity;" moreover, he condemns the
   determination of blessed Cyril, who extolled with high praise the zeal
   of the venerable Capreolus, in that he would fain have the ancient
   doctrines of the faith confirmed, and novel inventions condemned; yet
   more, he tramples upon the Council of Ephesus, that is, on the
   decisions of the holy bishops of almost the whole East, who decreed,
   under divine guidance, that nothing ought to be believed by posterity
   save what the sacred antiquity of the holy Fathers, consentient in
   Christ, had held, who with one voice, and with loud acclaim, testified
   that these were the words of all, this was the wish of all, this was
   the sentence of all, that as almost all heretics before Nestorius,
   despising antiquity and upholding novelty, had been condemned, so
   Nestorius, the author of novelty and the assailant of antiquity, should
   be condemned also. Whose consentient determination, inspired by the
   gift of sacred and celestial grace, whoever disapproves must needs hold
   the profaneness of Nestorius to have been condemned unjustly; finally,
   he despises as vile and worthless the whole Church of Christ, and its
   doctors, apostles, and prophets, and especially the blessed Apostle
   Paul: he despises the Church, in that she hath never failed in loyalty
   to the duty of cherishing and preserving the faith once for all
   delivered to her; he despises St. Paul, who wrote, "O Timothy, guard
   the deposit intrusted to thee, shunning profane novelties of words;"
   [524] and again, "if any man preach unto you other than ye have
   received, let him be accursed." [525] But if neither apostolical
   injunctions nor ecclesiastical decrees may be violated, by which, in
   accordance with the sacred consent of universality and antiquity, all
   heretics always, and, last of all, Pelagius, Coelestius, and Nestorius
   have been rightly and deservedly condemned, then assuredly it is
   incumbent on all Catholics who are anxious to approve themselves
   genuine sons of Mother Church, to adhere henceforward to the holy faith
   of the holy Fathers, to be wedded to it, to die in it; but as to the
   profane novelties of profane men--to detest them, abhor them, oppose
   them, give them no quarter.

   [87.] These matters, handled more at large in the two preceding
   Commonitories, I have now put together more briefly by way of
   recapitulation, in order that my memory, to aid which I composed them,
   may, on the one hand, be refreshed by frequent reference, and, on the
   other, may avoid being wearied by prolixity.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [524] 1 Tim. vi. 20.

   [525] Gal. i. 9.
     __________________________________________________________________

Appendix I.

   Note on Section 41, Page 143.

   There is so close an agreement, both in substance and often in the form
   of expression, between the preceding sections (36-42) and the so-called
   Athanasian Creed, that it led Antelmi (Nova de Symb. Athanas.
   Disquisitio,) to ascribe that document to Vincentius as its author, and
   to suppose that in it we have the fulfilment of the promise here
   referred to. If, however, the Creed was the work of Vincentius, it
   cannot well be the work promised at the close of S: 41, for
   Vincentius's words point to a fuller and more explicit treatment of the
   subjects referred to, whereas in the Athanasian Creed, though the
   subjects are the same, the treatment of them is very much briefer and
   more concise.

   Whoever was the author however, if it was not Vincentius, he must at
   least, as the subjoined extracts seem to prove, have been familiar with
   the Commonitory, as also with St. Augustine's writings, of which, as
   well as of the Commonitory, the Creed bears evident traces. I subjoin
   the following instances of agreement between the Commonitory and the
   Creed: Antelmi gives several others.

   Commonitory:

   Athanasian Creed:

   Unum Christum Jesum, non duos, eumdemque Deum pariter atque Hominem
   confitetur. S: 36.

   Est ergo Fides recta, ut credamus et confiteamur, quia Dominus noster
   Jesus Christus, Dei Filius, Deus pariter et Homo est. v. 28.

   Alia est Persona Patris, alia Filii, alia Spiritus Sancti. S: 37.

   Alia est Persona Patris, alia Filii, alia Spiritus Sancti. v. 5.

   Unus idemque Christus, Deus et Homo, Idem Patri et aequalis et minor,
   Idem ex Patre ante saecula genitus, Idem in saeculo ex Matre generatus,
   perfectus Deus, perfectus Homo. S: 37.

   Deus ex substantia Patris, ante saecula genitus, Homo ex substantia
   Matris, in saeculo natus; perfectus Deus perfectus Homo. vv. 29, 30.

   Unus, non corruptibili nescio qua Divinitatis et Humanitatis
   confusione, sed integra et singulari quadam unitate Personae. S: 37.

   Unus omnino, non conversione sustantiae, sed unitate Personae. v. 34.

   Sicut Verbum in carne caro, ita Homo in Deo Deus est. S: 40.

   Unus, non conversione Divinitatis in carne, sed Adsumptione Humanitatis
   in Deo. [526] v. 33.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [526] This is probably the true reading.
     __________________________________________________________________

Appendix II.

   Note on Section 69, Page 149.

   That Vincentius had Augustine and his adherents in view in this
   description will hardly be doubted by any one who will compare it with
   the following extracts, the first from Prosper's letter to Augustine,
   [527] giving him an account of the complaints made against his doctrine
   by the Massilian clergy; the second from St. Augustine's treatise, "De
   dono Perseveranti " [528] written in consequence of it.

   Commonitory, S: 69.

   "Si quis interroget quempiam haereticorum sibi talia persuadentem, Unde
   probas, unde doces quod Ecclesiae Catholicae universalem et antiquam
   fidem dimittere debeam? Statum ille, Scriptum est enim,' et continuo
   mille testimonia, mille exempla, mille auctoritates parat de Lege, de
   Psalmis, de Apostolis, de Prophetis, quibus, novo et malo more
   interpretatis, ex arce Catholica in haereseos barathrum infelix anima
   praecipitetur. Audent enim polliceri et docere, quod in Ecclesia sua,
   id est, in communionis suae conventiculo, magna et specialis ac plane
   personalis quaedam sit Dei gratia, adeo ut sine ullo labore, sine ullo
   studio, sine ulla industria, etiamsi nec petant, nec quaerant, nec
   pulsent, quicunque illi ad numerum suum pertinent, tamen ita divinitus
   dispensentur, ut, angelicis evecti manibus, id est, angelica
   protectione servati, nunquam possint offendere ad lapidem pedem suum,
   id est, nunquam scandalizari."

   Prosper to Augustine.

   "The Massilian clergy complain," he says, "Romoveri omnem industriam,
   tollique virtutes, si Dei constitutio humanus praeveniat voluntates."
   S: 3.

   Then referring to the teaching of the Massilians themselves, Prosper
   continues,

   "Ad conditionem hanc velint uniuscujusque hominis pertinere, ut ad
   cognitionem Dei et ad obedientiam mandatorum Ejus possit suam dirigere
   voluntatem, et ad hanc gratiam qua in Christo renascimur pervenire, per
   naturalem scilicet facultatem, petendo, quaerendo, pulsando."

   Referring to the line of argument pursued by himself and others of
   Augustine's friends and the Massilian way of dealing with it, he says,
   "Et cum contra eos Scripta Beatitudinis tuae validissimis et innumeris
   testimoniis Divinarum Scriptuarum instructa proferimus,...obstinationem
   suam vetustate defendunt." S: 3.

   St. Augustine replies to Prosper not in an ordinary letter, but in two
   short Treatises, which must have been written immediately afters its
   receipt, for he died in August 430, the first entitled "De
   Praedestinatione Sanctorum," the second "De Dono Perseverantiae."

   The following extract is from the latter:

   "Attendant ergo quomodo falluntur qui putant Esse a nobis, non dari
   nobis, ut petamus, quaeramus, pulsemus. Et hoc esse, dicunt, quod
   gratia praeceditur merito nostro, ut sequatur illa cum accipimus
   petentes, et invenimus quaerentes, aperiturque pulsantibus. Nec volunt
   intelligere etiam hoc divini muneris esse ut oremus, hoc est, petamus,
   quaeramus, atque pulsamus."--De Dono Persev. c. 23, S: 64.

   Vincentius's language is in keeping with that of others of St.
   Augustine's opponents, as Cassian and Faustus, extracts from whom are
   given by Noris; only, as he observes, while Vincentius uses the term
   "heresy" of the doctrine impugned,--they are content to use the milder
   term "error."--Histor. Pelag. p. 246.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [527] Inter Epistolas S. August. Ep. 225. Tom. ii. and again Tom. x.
   col. 1327.

   [528] Opera ix. col. 1833.
     __________________________________________________________________

Appendix III.

   Note on Section 85, Page 156.

   Celestine's letter was addressed to certain Bishops of Southern Gaul,
   who are particularized by name.

   It appears that Prosper and Hilary had made a journey to Rome, where
   they then were, for the purpose of complaining to Celestine of the
   connivance of certain bishops of Southern Gaul with the unsound
   teaching of their clergy. They complained too of the disrespectful
   manner in which these same clergy treated the memory of Augustine, then
   recently deceased.

   Celestine writes to these bishops: blames their connivance with a
   fault, which, says he, by their silence they make their own, and then
   proceeds to charge them, as in the passage quoted in the text, "Rebuke
   these people: restrain their liberty of preaching. If the case be so,
   let novelty cease to assail antiquity, let restlessness cease to
   disturb the Church's peace." Then, after some further exhortation, he
   adds, "We cannot wonder at their thus assailing the living, when they
   do not shrink from seeking to asperse the memory of the departed. With
   Augustine, whom all men everywhere loved and honoured, we ever held
   communion. Let a stop be put to this spirit of disparagement, which
   unhappily is on the increase."

   The manner in which Vincentius deals with this letter has been very
   commonly thought, and with reason, to indicate a Semipelagian leaning.
   [529] His "si ita est," "if the case be so," emphasized by being
   repeated again and again, quite in an excited manner, as we should say,
   shows an evident wish to shift the charge of novelty from those against
   whom it had been brought, and fix it upon the opposite party. "Who are
   the introducers of novelty? The Massilians, as Prosper represents them,
   or their calumniators? Not the Massilians: they notoriously appeal to
   antiquity,--not the Massilians, but Prosper and the rest of Augustine's
   followers."

   The feeling with regard to Augustine, on the part of the Massilian
   clergy, as indicated in Celestine's letter, is quite in accordance with
   the animus of S: 69 above. See the note on that place, and see Noris's
   remarks, pp. 246-248.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [529] E.g. "Hunc locum Vincentius Lirinensis sic a vero sensu contra
   Prosperum et Hilarium detorquet, ut ipse haud injuria in erroris
   Semipelagiani suspicionem veniat." The Benedictine editor of St.
   Augustine's works on Celestine's letter, Tom. x. col. 2403. To the same
   purpose, among others, Card. Norris, Histor. Pelag., 246. Vossius,
   Histor. Pelag. Tillemont, T. xv. pp. 145, 862. Neander, Church History,
   iv. p. 388.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

                           The Works of John Cassian.

        Translated,

  with prolegomena, prefaces, and notes,

        by

Rev. Edgar C. S. Gibson, M.A.,

    Principal of the Theological College, Wells, Somerset.
     __________________________________________________________________

   Prolegomena.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   The Life of Cassian.

   "Cassianus natione Scytha" is the description given by Gennadius [530]
   of the writer whose works are now for the first time translated into
   English. In spite, however, of the precision of this statement,
   considerable doubt hangs over Cassian's nationality, and it is hard to
   believe that he was in reality a Scythian. Not only is his language and
   style free from all trace of barbarism, but as a boy he certainly
   received a liberal education; for in his Conferences he laments that
   the exertions of his tutor and his own attention to continual study had
   so weakened him that his mind was so filled with songs of the poets
   that even at the hour of prayer it was thinking of those trifling
   fables and stories of battles with which it had from earliest infancy
   been stored; "and," he adds, "when singing Psalms or asking forgiveness
   of sins, some wanton recollection of the poems intrudes itself or the
   image of heroes fighting presents itself before the eyes; and an
   imagination of such phantoms is always haunting me." [531] Further
   evidence of the character of his education is also supplied by the fact
   that in his work on the Incarnation against Nestorius he manifests an
   acquaintance not only with the works of earlier Christian Fathers, but
   also with those of such writers as Cicero and Persius. [532]

   These considerations are sufficient to make us hesitate before
   accepting the statement of Gennadius in what would at first sight be
   its natural meaning; although from the fact of his connection with
   Marseilles, where so much of Cassian's life was spent, as well as the
   early date at which he wrote (a.d. 495), it is dangerous to reject his
   authority altogether. It is, however, possible that the term "Scytha"
   is not really intended to denote a Scythian, but to refer to the desert
   of Scete, or Scitis, [533] in Egypt, where Cassian passed many years of
   his life, and with which his fame was closely associated; and,
   therefore, without going to the length of rejecting the authority of
   Gennadius altogether, we are free to look for some other country as the
   birthplace of our author. But little light is thrown on this subject by
   the statements of other writers. Photius [534] (a.d. 800) calls him
   Romaios, which need mean no more than born within the Roman Empire;
   while Honorius of Autun (a.d. 1130) speaks of him as Afer. The
   last-mentioned writer is, however, of too late a date to be of any
   authority; and it is just possible that the term "Afer," like the
   "Scytha" of Gennadius, may be owing to his lengthy residence in Egypt.
   [535] In the writings of Cassian himself there is nothing to enable us
   to identify the country of his birth with certainty; but, in describing
   the situation of his ancestral home, he speaks of the delightful
   pleasantness of the neighbourhood, and the recesses of the woods, which
   would not only delight the heart of a monk but would also furnish him
   with a plentiful supply of food; [536] while in a later passage he says
   that in his own country it was impossible to find any one who had
   adopted the monastic life. [537] From these notices, compared with a
   passage in the Preface to the Institutes, where the diocese of Apta
   Julia in Gallia Narbonensis is spoken of as still without monasteries,
   some ground is given for the conjecture that Cassian was really a
   native of Gaul, whither he returned in mature age after his wanderings
   were ended, and where most of his friends of whom we have any knowledge
   were settled. On the whole, then, it appears to the present writer to
   be the most probable view that Cassian was of Western origin, and,
   perhaps, a native of Provence, although it must be freely acknowledged
   that it is impossible to speak with certainty on this subject. [538]

   Once more: not only is there this doubt about his nationality, but
   questions have also been raised concerning his original name. Gennadius
   and Cassiodorus [539] speak of him simply as Cassianus. In his own
   writings he represents himself as addressed by the monks in Egypt more
   than once by the name of John. [540] Prosper of Aquitaine (his
   contemporary and antagonist) combines both names, and speaks of him as
   "Joannes cognomento Cassianus." [541] In the titles of the majority of
   the mss. of his own writing he is merely "Cassianus," though in one
   case the work is entitled "Beatissimi Joannis qui et Cassiani." [542]
   Are we, then, with the writer of the last-mentioned ms., to suppose
   that the names John and Cassian are alternatives; or, with Prosper,
   that John was his nomen and Cassianus his cognomen, or, more strictly,
   agnomen? The former view is, perhaps, the more probable, as he may well
   have taken the name of John at his baptism or at his admission to the
   monastic life. The theory which has sometimes been advocated--that he
   received it at his ordination by S. John Chrysostom--falls to the
   ground when we notice that he represents himself as called John during
   his residence in Egypt, several years before his ordination and
   intercourse with S. Chrysostom.

   To pass now from the question of his name and nationality to the
   narrative of Cassian's life. Various considerations point to the date
   of his birth as about the year 360. Of his family we know nothing,
   except that in one passage of his writings he incidentally makes
   mention of a sister; [543] while the language which he uses of his
   parents would imply that they were well-to-do and pious. [544] As we
   have already seen, he received a liberal education as a boy, but while
   still young forsook the world, and was received, together with his
   friend Germanus, into a monastery at Bethlehem, [545] where he spent
   several years and became thoroughly familiar with the customs and
   traditions of the monasteries of Syria. Eager, however, to make further
   progress in the perfect life, the two friends finally determined to
   visit Egypt, [546] where, as it was the country in which the monastic
   life originated, the most famous monasteries existed, and the most
   illustrious Anchorites were to be found. Permission to undertake the
   journey was sought and obtained from their superiors, a pledge being
   required of a speedy return when the object of their visit was gained.
   [547] Sailing from some port of Syria, perhaps Joppa, the friends
   arrived at Thennesus, a town at the mouth of the Tanitic branch of the
   Nile, near Lake Menzaleh. Here they fell in with a celebrated Anchorite
   named Archebius, bishop of the neighbouring town of Panephysis, who had
   come to Thennesus on business connected with the election of a bishop.
   He, on hearing the object of their visit to Egypt, at once offered them
   an introduction to some celebrated Anchorites in his own neighbourhood.
   The offer was gladly accepted, and under his guidance they made their
   way through a dreary district of salt marshes, many of the villages
   being in ruins and deserted by their inhabitants owing to the floods
   which had inundated the country and turned the rising grounds into
   islands, "and thus afforded the desired solitudes to the holy
   Anchorites, among whom three old men--Chaeremon, Nesteros, and
   Joseph--were famed as the Anchorites of the longest standing." [548]
   Archebius brought them first to Chaeremon, who had already passed his
   hundredth year, and was so far bent with age and constant prayer that
   he could no longer walk upright, but crawled upon his hands and knees.
   The saint's hesitation at allowing himself to be thus interviewed by
   strangers was soon overcome, and he finally gratified their curiosity
   by delivering three discourses, on the subjects of Perfection,
   Chastity, and the Protection of God. [549] From the cell of Chaeremon
   Cassian and his companion proceeded to that of Abbot Nesteros, who
   honoured them with two discourses, on Spiritual Knowledge, and Divine
   Gifts; [550] and from him they repaired to Joseph, who belonged to a
   noble family, and before his renunciation of the world had been
   "primarius" of his native city, Thmuis. He was naturally better
   educated than the others, and was able to converse with them in Greek
   instead of being obliged to have recourse to the help of an
   interpreter, as had been the case with Chaeremon and Nesteros. [551]
   His first question referred to the relationship between Cassian and
   Germanus: were they brothers? And their reply--that the brotherhood was
   spiritual and not carnal--furnished the old man with a text for his
   first discourse, which was on Friendship, and which was followed up on
   the next day by one on the Obligation of Promises, [552] called forth
   by the perplexity in which the travellers found themselves owing to
   their promise to return to Bethlehem,--a promise which they were loth
   to break, and which yet they could not fulfil without losing a grand
   opportunity of making progress in the spiritual life. In their
   difficulty they consulted Joseph; and, fortified by his authority and
   advice, they determined to break the letter of their promise and make a
   longer stay in Egypt, where they accordingly remained for seven years
   in spite of their brethren at Bethlehem, whose displeasure at their
   conduct, Cassian tells us, was not removed by their frequent letters
   home. [553]

   It was while Cassian and his fellow-traveller were still in the
   neighbourhood of Panephysis that these energetic precursors of the
   modern "interviewers" paid a visit to Abbot Pinufius, a priest who
   presided over a large monastery. This man was an old friend of theirs,
   whose acquaintance they had previously made at Bethlehem, whither
   (after an ineffectual attempt to conceal himself in a monastery in the
   island of Tabenna) he had fled in order to escape the responsibilities
   of his office. There he had been received as a novice, and had been
   assigned by the abbot as an inmate of Cassian's cell, until he was
   recognized by a visitor from Egypt and brought back in triumph to his
   own monastery. [554] To him, therefore, Cassian and Germanus made their
   way; and by him they were warmly welcomed; the old man repaying their
   former hospitality by giving them quarters in his own cell. While
   staying in this monastery they were so fortunate as to be present at
   the admission of a novice, and heard the charge which Pinufius made to
   the new-comer on the occasion; [555] and afterwards the abbot favoured
   them with a discourse "on the end of penitence and the marks of
   satisfaction." [556] After this, resisting his pressing invitation to
   remain with him in the monastery, they proceeded once more on their
   travels, and, crossing the river, came to Diolcos, a town hard by the
   Sebennytic mouth of the Nile. Here was a barren tract of land between
   the river and the sea, rendered unfit for cultivation by the saltness
   of the soil and the dryness of the sand. It was, therefore, eagerly
   seized upon by the monks, who congregated here in great numbers in
   spite of the absence of water; the river from which it had to be
   fetched being some three miles distant. [557] In this neighbourhood
   they made the acquaintance of Abbot Piamun, a most celebrated
   Anchorite, who explained to them with great care the characteristics of
   the three kinds of monks; viz., the Coenobites, the Anchorites, and the
   Sarabaites. [558] This discourse had the effect of exciting their
   desire more keenly than ever for the Anchorites' life in preference to
   that of the Coenobite,--a desire which was afterwards confirmed by what
   they saw and heard in the desert of Scete. They next visited a large
   monastery in the same neighbourhood, which was governed by the Abbot
   Paul, and which ordinarily accommodated two hundred monks, but was at
   that moment filled with a much larger number, who had come from the
   surrounding monasteries to celebrate the "depositio" of the late abbot.
   [559] Here they met a certain Abbot John, whose humility had led him to
   give up the life of an Anchorite for that of a Coenobite, in order that
   he might have the opportunity of practising the virtues of obedience
   and subjection, which seemed out of the reach of the solitary. He was
   accordingly well qualified to speak of the subject which he selected
   for his discourse; viz., the aims of the Anchorite and Coenobite life.
   [560] Another well-known abbot, whose acquaintance they now made, was
   Theonas, who, when quite a young man, had been married by his parents,
   and later on, on failing to obtain the consent of his wife to a
   separation, in order that they might devote themselves to the monastic
   life, had deserted her and fled away into a monastery, where after a
   time he had been promoted to the office of almoner. From him they heard
   a discourse on the relaxation of the fast during Eastertide and
   Pentecost, [561] and, later on, one concerning Nocturnal Illusions,
   [562] and another on Sinlessness. [563] By these various discourses the
   two friends were rendered more desirous than ever of adopting the
   Anchorite life, and less inclined than before to return to the
   subjection of the monastery at Bethlehem. A far better course seemed to
   them to return to their own home, probably (as we have seen) in Gaul,
   where they would be free to practice what austerities they pleased
   without let or hindrance. [564]  In their perplexity they consulted
   Abbot Abraham, who threw cold water on their plan in a discourse on
   Mortification, [565] which was entirely successful in persuading them
   to relinquish their half-formed intention. They, therefore, remained in
   Egypt for some years longer; and it is to the time of their stay in the
   neighbourhood of Diolcos that their acquaintance with Abbot Archebius
   must be assigned. This man, so Cassian tells us, [566] having
   discovered their desire to make some stay in the place, offered them
   the use of his cell, pretending that he was about to go off on a
   journey. They gladly accepted his offer. He went away for a few days,
   collected materials, and then returned and proceeded to build a new
   cell for himself. Shortly afterwards some more brethren came. He at
   once gave up to them his newly built cell, and once more set to work to
   build another for himself.

   It is difficult to determine whether a stay in the desert of Scete was
   comprised in the seven years which the two friends now spent in Egypt,
   or whether they visited it for the first time during their second tour,
   after their return from Bethlehem. On the one hand, the language used
   in Conference XVIII. cc. i. and xvi. would almost suggest that they
   made their way into this remote district during their first sojourn in
   Egypt; and, on the other hand, that employed in Conference I. c. i.
   might imply a distinct journey to Egypt for the sake of visiting this
   region: and in XVII. xxx. Cassian distinctly asserts that they did
   visit Scete after their return to Bethlehem in fulfilment of their
   promise. On the whole, it appears the more natural view to suppose that
   their first tour was not extended beyond the Delta, more distant
   expeditions being reserved for a future occasion. Adopting, then, this
   view, we follow the travellers, after a seven years' absence, back to
   the monastery at Bethlehem, where they managed to pacify the irate
   brethren, and, strange to say, obtained leave to return to Egypt a
   second time. [567] On this occasion they penetrated farther into the
   country than they had previously done. The region which they now
   visited was the desert of Scete, or Scitis; that is, the southern part
   of the famous Nitrian Valley, a name which is well known to all
   students from the rich treasure of Syrian mss. brought home from thence
   by the Hon. Robert Curzon and Archdeacon Tattam now more than forty
   years ago. The district lies "to the northwest of Cairo, three days'
   journey in the Libyan desert," [568] and gains its name of Nitria from
   the salt lakes which still furnish abundance of nitre, which has been
   worked for fully two thousand years. The valley has some claims to be
   considered the original home of monasticism. Some have thought that a
   colony of Therapeutae was settled here in the earliest days; and hither
   S. Frontonius is said to have retired with seventy brethren, to lead
   the life of ascetics, about the middle of the second century. [569]
   Less doubtful is the fact that S. Ammon, a contemporary and friend of
   S. Antony, organized the monastic system here in the fourth century,
   and "filled the same place in lower Egypt as Antony in the Thebaid."
   [570] Towards the close of the fourth century the valley was crowded
   with cells and monasteries. Rufinus, who visited it about 372, mentions
   fifty monasteries; [571] and the same number is given by Sozomen, who
   says that "some were inhabited by monks who live together in society,
   others by monks who have adopted a solitary mode of existence." [572]
   About twenty years later Palladius passed a considerable time here, and
   reckons the total number of monks and ascetics at five thousand. [573]
   They were also visited by S. Jerome about the same time, and various
   details of the life of the monks are given by him in his Epistles.
   [574] Some few monks still linger on to the present day to keep up the
   traditions of nearly eighteen centuries. They were visited (among
   others) by the Hon. Robert Curzon in 1833; and an interesting account
   of them is given by him in his volume on "the monasteries of the
   Levant:" [575] but the latest and best account of them is that given by
   Mr. A. J. Butler, who succeeded in gaining permission to visit them in
   1883, and has described his journey in his excellent work on "the
   ancient Coptic Churches of Egypt." [576] Four monasteries alone remain;
   known as Dair Abu Makar, Dair Anba Bishoi, Dair es Suriani, and Dair al
   Baramus; but the ruins of many others may still be traced in the desert
   tracts on the west side of the Natron lakes, and the valley of the
   waterless river which at some very remote period is supposed to have
   formed the bed of one of the branches of the Nile." [577] The
   monasteries are all built on the same general plan, so that, as Mr.
   Butler tells us, a description of one will more or less accurately
   describe the others. Dair Abu Makar (the monastery of S. Macarius), the
   first which he visited, which lies strictly within the desert of Scete,
   is spoken of as "a veritable fortress, standing about one-hundred and
   fifty yards square, with blind, lofty walls rising sheer out of the
   sand." "Each monastery has also, either detached or not, a large keep,
   or tower, standing four-square, and approached only by a draw-bridge.
   The tower contains the library, store-rooms for the vestments and
   sacred vessels, cellars for oil and corn, and many strange holes and
   hiding-places of the monks in the last resort, if their citadel should
   be taken by the enemy. Within the monastery is enclosed one principal
   and one or two smaller court-yards, around which stand the cells of the
   monks, domestic buildings, such as the mill-room, the oven, the
   refectory, and the like, and the churches." [578] The outward aspect
   can have changed but little since the fourth century. The buildings are
   perhaps stronger and more adapted to resist hostile attacks, but the
   general plan is probably identical with that adopted in the earliest
   monasteries erected in this remote region. Such, then, was the district
   to which Cassian and Germanus now made their way. Here they first
   sought and obtained an interview with Abbot Moses, who had formerly
   dwelt in the Thebaid near S. Antony, and was now living at a spot in
   the desert of Scete known as Calamus, [579] and was famous not only for
   practical goodness but also for contemplative excellence. After much
   persuasion he yielded to their entreaties and discoursed to them "on
   the goal or aim of a monk," [580] and, on the following day, on
   Discretion. [581] They next visited Abbot Paphnutius, or "the Buffalo,"
   as he was named, from his love of solitude. He was an aged priest who
   had lived for years the life of an Anchorite, only leaving his cell for
   the purpose of going to the church, which was five miles off, on
   Saturday and Sunday, and returning with a large bucket of water on his
   shoulders to last him for the week. From him they heard of the "three
   kinds of renunciation" necessary for a monk. [582] They also visited
   his disciple Daniel, who had been ordained priest through the
   instrumentality of Paphnutius, but was so humble that he would never
   perform priestly functions in the presence of his master. The subject
   of his discourse in answer to the inquiry of the two friends was "the
   lust of the flesh and the spirit." [583] The next ascetic interviewed
   was Serapion, who spoke of the "eight principal faults" to which a monk
   was exposed; viz., gluttony, fornication, covetousness, anger,
   dejection, "accidie," vain glory, and pride. [584] After this they
   proceeded on a journey of some eighty miles to Cellae, a place that lay
   between the desert of Scete (properly so called) and the Nitrian
   Valley, in order to consult Abbot Theodore on a difficulty which the
   recent massacre of a number of monks in Palestine by the Saracens had
   brought forcibly before them; viz., why was it that men of such
   illustrious merits and so great virtues should be slain by robbers, and
   why should God permit so great a crime to be committed? The difficulty
   was solved by Abbot Theodore in a discourse on "the death of the
   saints;" [585] and thus the journey was not taken in vain. Two other
   celebrated monks were also visited by the friends, whose discourses are
   recorded by Cassian: viz., Abbot Serenus, who spoke of "Inconstancy of
   mind, and Spiritual wickedness," [586] as well as of the nature of evil
   spirits, in a Conference on "Principalities;" [587] and Abbot Isaac,
   who delivered two discourses on the subject of Prayer. [588] A few days
   after the first of these was delivered there arrived in the desert the
   "festal letters" of Theophilus, Bishop of Alexandria, in which he
   denounced the heresy of the Anthropomorphites. This caused a great
   commotion among the monks of Scete; and Abbot Paphnutius, who presided
   over the monastery where Cassian was staying, was the only one who
   would allow the letters to be publicly read in the congregation.
   Finally, however, owing to the conciliatory firmness of Paphnutius, the
   great body of the monks was won over to a sounder and less
   materialistic view of the nature of the Godhead than had hitherto been
   prevalent among them. [589]

   These are all the details that can be gathered from Cassian's writings
   of his stay in Scete, further than which he does not appear to have
   penetrated, as, when he speaks of the Thebaid and the monasteries
   there, it is only from hearsay and not from personal knowledge,
   although his original intention had certainly been to visit this
   district among others. [590]

   In considering the date of Cassian's visit to Egypt there are various
   indications to guide us. In Conference XVIII. c. xiv., S. Athanasius is
   spoken of by Abbot Piamun as "of blessed memory;" and the language used
   of the Emperor Valens in c. vii. is such as to imply that he was
   already dead. The former died in 373, and the latter in 378. Again, in
   Conference XXIV. c. xxvi. Abbot Abraham is made to speak of John of
   Lycopolis as so famous that he was consulted by the very lords of
   creation, who sought his advice, and entrusted to his prayers and
   merits the crown of their empire and the fortunes of war. These
   expressions evidently allude to John's announcement to Theodosius of
   his victory over Maxentius in 388, and his success against Eugenius in
   395. [591] If they stood alone, we could scarcely rely on these
   indications of date with any great confidence because the Conferences
   were not written till many years later, and it is impossible to
   determine with certainty how far they really represent the discourses
   actually spoken by the Egyptian Fathers, or how far they are the ideal
   compositions of Cassian himself. But, as we have seen, it is certain
   that Cassian was actually in Egypt at the time of the Anthropomorphite
   controversy raised by the letters of Theophilus in 399; and, as the
   other notices of events previously mentioned coincide very fairly with
   this, we cannot be far wrong in placing the two visits to Egypt between
   380 and 400. About the last-named date Cassian must have finally left
   the country; and we next hear of him in Constantinople, where he was
   ordained deacon by S. Chrysostom, [592] and, together with his friend
   Germanus, put in charge of the treasury, the only part of the Cathedral
   which escaped the flames in the terrible conflagration of 404. Thus
   Cassian was a witness of all the troublous scenes which attended the
   persecution of S. Chrysostom, whose side he warmly espoused in the
   controversy which rent the East asunder. And when the Saint was
   violently deposed and removed from Constantinople, the two
   friends--Germanus, who was by this time raised to the priesthood, and
   Cassian, who was still in deacon's orders--were chosen as the bearers
   of a letter to Pope Innocent I. from the clergy who adhered to
   Chrysostom, detailing the scandalous scenes that had taken place, and
   the trials to which they had been exposed. [593] Of the length of
   Cassian's stay in Rome we have no information, but it is likely that it
   was of some considerable duration; and it may have been at this time
   that he was ordained priest by Innocent. Possibly, also, it was now
   that he made the acquaintance of one who was then quite young, but was
   destined afterwards to become famous as Pope Leo the Great; for some
   years afterwards (a.d. 430) it was at the request of Leo, then
   Archdeacon of Rome, that Cassian wrote his work on the Incarnation
   against Nestorius. Leaving Rome, Cassian is next found in Gaul, [594]
   which (if we are right in the supposition that it was his birthplace)
   he must have quitted when scarcely more than a child. When he left it
   monasticism was a thing almost if not quite unknown there, but during
   his absence in the East a few monasteries had been founded in the
   district of the Loire by S. Martin and S. Hilary of Poictiers. Liguge
   was founded shortly after 360, and Marmoutier rather later, after 371;
   and about the time of his return similar institutions were beginning to
   spring up in Provence. In 410 S. Honoratus founded the monastery which
   will ever be associated with his name, in the island of Lerins, and, in
   the eloquent words of the historian of the monks of the West, "opened
   the arms of his love to the sons of all countries who desired to love
   Christ. A multitude of disciples of all nations joined him. The West
   could no longer envy the East; and shortly that retreat, destined in
   the intentions of its founder to renew upon the coasts of Provence the
   austerities of the Thebaid, became a celebrated school of theology and
   Christian philosophy, a citadel inaccessible to the waves of barbarian
   invasion, an asylum for literature and science, which had fled from
   Italy invaded by the Goths;--in short, a nursery of bishops and saints,
   who were destined to spread over the whole of Gaul the knowledge of the
   gospel and the glory of Lerins." [595]

   It must have been about the same time--a little earlier or a little
   later--that Cassian settled at Marseilles; and there, "in the midst of
   those great forests which had supplied the Phoenician navy, which in
   the time of Caesar reached as far as the sea-coast, and the mysterious
   obscurity of which had so terrified the Roman soldiers that the
   conqueror, to embolden them, had himself taken an axe and struck down
   an old oak," [596] two monasteries were now established,--one for men,
   built it is said over the tomb of S. Victor, a martyr in the
   persecution of Diocletian, [597] and the other for women. Cassian's
   long residence in the East and his intimate knowledge of the monastic
   system in vogue in Egypt made him at once looked up to as an authority,
   and practically as the head of the movement which was so rapidly taking
   root in Provence; and, although his fame has been overshadowed by that
   of the greatest of Western monks, S. Benedict of Nursia, yet his is
   really the credit of being, not indeed the actual founder, but the
   first organizer and systematizer, of Western monachism: and it is hoped
   that the copious illustrations from the Benedictine rule given in the
   notes to the first four books of the Institutes will serve to show how
   much the founder of the greatest order in the West was really indebted
   to his less-known predecessor. "He brought to bear upon the
   organization of Gallic monasteries lessons learnt in the East. Although
   S. Martin and others were before him, yet his life must be regarded as
   a new departure for monasticism in the land. The religious communities
   of S. Martin and S. Victricius in the centre of France were doubtless
   rudimentary and half-developed in discipline when compared with that
   established by Cassian at Marseilles, and with the many others which
   speedily arose modelled upon his elaborate rules." [598] The high
   estimation in which his work was held throughout the Middle Ages is
   shown not only by the immense number of mss. of the Institutes and
   Conferences which still remain scattered throughout the libraries of
   Europe, but also by the recommendation of them by Cassiodorus, and by
   S. Benedict himself, who enjoins that the Conferences should be read
   daily by the monks of his order.

   At Marseilles, then, Cassian settled; and here it was that he wrote his
   three great works,--the Institutes, the Conferences, and On the
   Incarnation against Nestorius; the two former being written for the
   express purpose of encouraging and developing the monastic life. Of
   these the Institutes was the earliest, being composed in "twelve books
   on the institutes of the monasteries and the remedies for the eight
   principal faults," [599] at the request of Castor, Bishop of Apta
   Julia, some forty miles due north of Marseilles, who was desirous of
   introducing the monastic life into his diocese, where it was still a
   thing unknown. [600] As Castor died in 426, [601] and the work is
   dedicated to him, it must have been written some time between the years
   419 and 426. When it was first undertaken Cassian's design already was
   to follow it up by a second treatise containing the Conferences of the
   Fathers, to which he several times alludes in the Institutes as a
   forthcoming work, [602] and which, like the companion volume, was
   undertaken at Castor's instigation. But, before even the first part of
   it was ready for publication, the Bishop of Apta was dead; and thus, to
   Cassian's sorrow, he was unable to dedicate it to him, as he had hoped
   to do. He therefore dedicated Conferences I.-X. (the first portion of
   the work) to Leontius, Bishop (probably) of Frejus, and Helladius, who
   is termed "frater" in the Preface to this work, though, as we see from
   the Preface to Conference XVIII., he was afterwards raised to the
   episcopate. [603]

   This portion of Cassian's work must have been completed shortly after
   the death of Castor in 426. It was speedily followed by Part II.,
   containing Conferences XI. to XVII. This is dedicated to Honoratus and
   Eucherius, who are styled "fratres." Eucherius did not become Bishop of
   Lyons till 434; but, as Honoratus was raised to the see of Arles in
   426, the volume must have been published not later than that year, or
   he would have been termed "Episcopus," as he is in the Preface to
   Conference XVIII., instead of "frater."

   The third and last part of the work, containing Conferences XVIII. to
   XXIV., is dedicated to Jovinian, Minervius, Leontius, and Theodore, who
   are collectively styled "fratres." Leontius must, therefore, be a
   different person from the bishop to whom Conferences I.-X. were
   dedicated; and nothing further is known of him, or of Minervius and
   Jovinian. Theodore was afterwards raised to the Episcopate, and
   succeeded Leontius in the see of Frejus in 432. This third part of
   Cassian's work was ready before the death of Honoratus, Bishop of
   Arles, who is spoken of in the Preface as if still living; and,
   therefore, its publication cannot be later than 428, as Honoratus died
   in January, 429.

   Thus the whole work was completed between the years 426 and 428; and
   now Cassian, who was growing old, was desirous of rest, feeling as if
   his life's work was nearly over. [604] But the repose which he sought
   was not to be granted to him, for the remaining years of his life were
   troubled by two controversies,--the Nestorian, and the Pelagian,--or,
   rather, its offshoot, the Semi-Pelagian. Into the history of the former
   of these there is no need to enter here in detail. It broke out at
   Constantinople, where Nestorius had become bishop in succession to
   Sisinnius, in 428. The immediate occasion which gave rise to the
   controversy was a sermon by Anastasius, the Bishop's chaplain, in which
   he inveighed against the title Theotocos, as given to the Blessed
   Virgin Mary. This at once created a great sensation, as Nestorius
   warmly supported his chaplain, and proceeded to develop the heresy
   connected with his name, in a course of sermons. News of the
   controversy was brought to Egypt, and Cyril of Alexandria at once
   entered into the fray. After some correspondence between the two
   bishops, both parties endeavoured to gain the adherence of the Church
   of Rome early in the year 430; and now it was that Cassian became mixed
   up with the dispute. Greek learning was evidently at a low ebb in the
   Roman Church at this time; [605] and it was, perhaps, partly owing to
   Cassian's familiar acquaintance with this language, as well as owing to
   his connexion with Constantinople, where the trouble had now arisen,
   that Celestine's Archdeacon Leo turned to him at this crisis for help.
   Anyhow, whatever was the reason, an earnest appeal from Rome reached
   him, begging him to write a refutation of the new heresy. After some
   hesitation he consented, and the result of his labours is seen in the
   seven books on the Incarnation against Nestorius. The work was
   evidently done in haste, and published in 430, before the Council of
   Ephesus (for Cassian speaks of Nestorius throughout as still Bishop of
   Constantinople), and, judging from the way in which Augustine is spoken
   of in VII. xxvii., before the death of that Father, which took place in
   August, 430. A great part of the work is occupied with Scripture proof
   of our Lord's Divinity and unity of Person; but, taken as a whole, the
   treatise is distinctly of less value than Cassian's earlier writings,
   and betrays the haste in which it was composed by the occasional use of
   inaccurate language on the subject of the Incarnation, and of terms and
   phrases which the mature judgment of the Church has rejected. But the
   writer's keen penetration is seen by the quickness with which he
   connects the new heresy with the teaching of Pelagius, the connecting
   link between the two being found in the errors of Leporius of Treves,
   who, in propagating Pelagian views of man's sufficiency and strength,
   had applied them to the case of our Lord, not shrinking from the
   conclusion that He was a mere man who had used his free will so well as
   to have lived without sin, and had only been made Christ in virtue of
   His baptism, whereby the Divine and human were associated in such
   manner that virtually there were two Christs. [606] The connexion
   between Nestorianism and Pelagianism has often been noticed by later
   writers, but to Cassian belongs the credit of having been the first to
   point it out. Of the impression produced by his book we have no record.
   He appears to have taken no further part in the controversy, which,
   indeed, must have been to him an episode, coming in the midst of that
   other controversy with which his name is inseparably associated; viz.,
   that on Semi-Pelagianism, on which something must now be said.

   The controversy arose in the following way. During the struggle with
   Pelagianism between the years 410 and 420, Augustine's views on the
   absolute need of grace were gradually hardening into a theory that
   grace was irresistible and therefore indefectible. "Intent above all
   things on magnifying the Divine Sovereignty, he practically forgot the
   complexity of the problem in hand and failed to do justice to the human
   element in the mysterious process of man's salvation." [607] The view
   of an absolute predestination irrespective of foreseen character, and
   of the irresistible and indefectible character of grace, was put
   forward by him, in a letter to a Roman priest, Sixtus, in the year 418.
   [608] Some years afterwards this letter fell into the hands of the
   monks of Adrumetum, some of whom were puzzled by its teaching; and, in
   order to allay the disputes among them, the matter was referred to
   Augustine himself. Thinking that the monks had misunderstood his
   teaching, he not only explained the letter but also wrote a fresh
   treatise,--"De Gratia et Libero Arbitrio" (426); and, when that failed
   to satisfy the malcontents, he followed it up with his work "De
   Correptione et Gratia" (426), which, so far as the monks of Adrumetum
   were concerned, seems to have ended the controversy. Elsewhere,
   however, hesitation was felt in going the full length of Augustine's
   teaching; and, in the South of Gaul especially, many were seriously
   disturbed at the turn which the controversy had lately taken, and were
   prepared to reject Augustine's teaching, as not merely novel, but also
   practically dangerous. "They said, in effect," to quote Canon Bright's
   lucid summary of their position, "to treat predestination as
   irrespective of foreseen conduct, and to limit the Divine good-will to
   a fixed number of persons thus selected, who, as such, are assured of
   perseverance, is not only to depart from the older theology, and from
   the earlier teaching of the Bishop of Hippo himself, but to cut at the
   root of religious effort, and to encourage either negligence or
   despair. They insisted that whatever theories might be devised
   concerning this mystery, which was not a fit subject for popular
   discussion, the door of salvation should be regarded as open to all,
   because the Saviour died for all.' To explain away the Scriptural
   assurance was, they maintained, to falsify the Divine promise and to
   nullify human responsibility. They believed in the doctrine of the
   Fall; they acknowledged the necessity of real grace in order to man's
   restoration; they even admitted that this grace must be prevenient' to
   such acts of will as resulted in Christian good works: but some of them
   thought--and herein consisted the error called Semi-Pelagian--that
   nature, unaided, could take the first step towards its recovery, by
   desiring to be healed through faith in Christ. If it could not,--if the
   very beginning of all good were strictly a Divine act,--exhortations
   seemed to them to be idle, and censure unjust, in regard to those on
   whom no such act had been wrought, and who, therefore, until it should
   be wrought, were helpless, and so far guiltless, in the matter." [609]
   Of the party which took up this position Cassian was the recognized
   head. True, he did not directly enter into the controversy himself, nor
   is he the author of any polemical works upon the subject; but it is
   impossible to doubt that the thirteenth Conference, containing the
   teaching of Abbot Chaeremon on the Protection of God, was intended to
   meet what he evidently regarded as a serious error; viz., the implicit
   denial by the Augustinians of the need of effort on man's part.

   Augustine was informed of the teaching of the School of Marseilles, as
   it was called, by one Hilary (a layman, not to be confounded with his
   namesake, the Bishop of Arles), who wrote to him two letters, of which
   the former is lost. The latter is still existing, and contains a
   careful account of what was maintained at Marseilles. Towards the close
   of it Hilary says that, as he was pressed for time, he had prevailed
   upon a friend to write as well, and would attach his letter to his own.
   This friend was Prosper of Aquitaine, also a layman and an ardent
   Augustinian, whose epistle has been preserved as well as Hilary's.
   [610] From these letters, and from the works which Augustine wrote in
   reply, we learn that the "Massilians" had been first disturbed by some
   of Augustine's earlier writings, as the Epistle to Paulinus; and that
   their distrust of his teaching on the subjects of Grace,
   Predestination, and Freewill had been increased by the receipt of his
   work "De Correptione et Gratia," although in other matters they agreed
   with him entirely, and were great admirers of his. [611] Personally,
   they are spoken of with great respect as men of no common virtue, and
   of wide influence; and, though Cassian's name is never mentioned in the
   correspondence, yet it is easy to read between the lines and see that
   he is referred to. [612]

   Augustine replied to his correspondents by writing what proved to be
   almost his latest works,--the treatises "De Praedestinatione Sanctorum"
   and "De dono Perseverantiae." In these volumes Augustine, while freely
   acknowledging the great difference between his opponents and the
   Pelagians, yet maintained as strongly as ever his own position, and
   "did not abate an iota of the contention that election and rejection
   were arbitrary, and that salvation was not really within the reach of
   all Christians." [613] Thus the books naturally failed to satisfy the
   recalcitrant party, or to convince those who thought that the denial of
   the freedom of the will tended to destroy man's responsibility.
   Prosper, however, was delighted with the treatises, and proceeded to
   follow them up with a work of his own, a poem of a thousand lines, "De
   Ingratis," by which he designates the Pelagians and Semi-Pelagians,
   whose opinions he speaks of as spreading with alarming rapidity. The
   date of this publication was probably the early part of 430. It was
   certainly written before the death of Augustine, which took place on
   August 28 of the same year. The removal from this life of the great
   champion of Grace did not bring to an end the controversy to which his
   writings had given birth. The school of Marseilles continued to
   propagate its views with unabated vigour, in spite of the protests of
   Prosper and Hilary, who finally took the important step of appealing to
   Pope Celestine, from whom they succeeded in obtaining a letter
   addressed to the Gallican Bishops, Venerius of Marseilles, Leontius of
   Frejus, Marinus, Auxonius, Arcadius, Filtanius, and the rest. [614]
   Celestine speaks strongly of their negligence in not having suppressed
   what he regarded as a public scandal, and says that "priests ought not
   to teach so as to invade the episcopal prerogative," an expression in
   which we may well see an allusion to Cassian, the leading presbyter, of
   the diocese of Marseilles, whose Bishop is named first in the opening
   salutation; and the letter concludes with some words of eulogium on
   Augustine "of holy memory." Never, perhaps, was Gallican independence
   shown in a more striking manner than in the sturdy way in which the
   Massilians clung to their views in spite of the authority of the Pope
   now brought to bear upon them. Prosper and Hilary on their return found
   the obnoxious teaching daily spreading, so that the former of them
   finally determined to put down, if possible, the upholders of the
   objectionable tenets by a direct criticism of Cassian's Conferences.
   This was the origin of Prosper's work "Contra Collatorem," against the
   author of the Conferences, a treatise of considerable power and force,
   although not scrupulously fair. [615] The respect in which Cassian was
   held is strikingly shown by the fact that his antagonist never once
   names him directly, but merely speaks of him as a man of priestly rank
   who surpassed all his companions in power of arguing. The work consists
   of an examination of the thirteenth Conference, that of Abbot
   Chaeremon, on the Protection of God, from which Prosper extracts twelve
   propositions, the first of which he says is orthodox while all the
   others are erroneous. [616] He concludes by warning his antagonist of
   the danger of Pelagianism, and expresses a hope that his doctrine may
   be condemned by Pope Sixtus as it had been by Celestine and his
   predecessors. The last statement fixes the date of the book as not
   earlier than 432; for Celestine only died in April in that year.

   Cassian was evidently still living when this attack upon him was made;
   but, so far as we know, he made no reply to it. Its publication is the
   last event in his life of which we have any knowledge. He probably died
   shortly afterwards, as the expression used by Gennadius in speaking of
   his work against Nestorius would seem to imply that it preceded his
   death by no long interval; for he says that with this he brought to a
   close his literary labours and his life in the reign of Theodosius and
   Valentinian. [617]

   The controversy on Grace and Freewill lingered on for nearly a century
   longer, and was only finally disposed of by the wise moderation shown
   by Caesarius of Arles and those who acted with him at the Council of
   Orange (Arausio), in the year 529. [618]

   While it cannot be denied that the teaching of Cassian and his school
   in denying the necessity of initial and prevenient grace is erroneous
   and opens a door at which Pelagianism may easily creep in, yet it was
   an honest attempt to vindicate human responsibility; and it must be
   frankly admitted that the teaching of Augustine was one-sided and
   required to be balanced: nor would the question have ever been brought
   into prominence had it not been for the hard and rigorous way in which
   the doctrine of Predestination was taught, and the denial that the
   possibility of salvation lay within the reach of all men. While, then,
   it is granted that a verdict of guilty must be returned on the charge
   of Semi-Pelagianism in Cassian's case, we are surely justified in
   claiming that a recommendation to mercy be attached to it on the plea
   of extenuating circumstances. Since his death Cassian has ever occupied
   a somewhat ambiguous position in the mind of the Church. Never formally
   canonized, his name is not found in the Calendars of the West; nor is
   he honoured with the title of "Saint." He is, however, generally spoken
   of as "the blessed Cassian," holding in this respect the same position
   as Theodoret, of whom Dr. Newman says that, though he "has the
   responsibility of acts which have forfeited to him that oecumenical
   dignity," yet he is "not without honorary title in the Church's
   hagiology; for he has ever been known as the blessed Theodoret.'" [619]
   In the East Cassian's position is somewhat better. He is there regarded
   as a saint, and may possibly be intended by the Cassian who is
   commemorated on February 29. [620] It is only natural that this
   difference should be made, for the Eastern Church has always held a
   milder view of the effect of the Fall than that which has been current
   in the West since the days of Augustine; and, indeed, Cassian, in
   making his protest against the rising tide of Augustinianism, was in
   the main only handing on the teaching which he had received from his
   Eastern instructors.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [530] Gennadius Catalogus, c. lxii.

   [531] Conference XIV. xii.

   [532] On the Incarnation, VI. ix., x.

   [533] Skiathis, and Skiathike (v. l. Skithiake) chora are the forms of
   the name given by Ptolemy. The Greek Fathers speak of the district as
   Sketis, while in Latin writers the name appears as Scythia, or Scythis;
   and, though the printed texts of Cassian give the form as Scitium,
   heremus Scitii, and heremus Scitiotica, yet we learn from Petschenig
   that in the mss. of his works it is not seldom written as Scythium. It
   should be added that in the text of Gennadius the reading is not
   absolutely free from doubt, as there is some slight authority for
   reading "natus Serta."

   [534] Bibliotheca, cod. cxcvii.

   [535] Dr. Gregory Smith (Dictionary of Christian Biography, art.
   Cassian) thinks that Cassianus' possibly points to Casius, a small town
   in Syria; but, apart from the fact that the name was not uncommon in
   the West as well as in the East, the description of his home as being
   in a country where there were no monasteries is quite fatal to this
   idea.

   [536] Conference XXIV. i.

   [537] c. xviii.

   [538] No difficulty need be felt on the score of his thorough knowledge
   of Greek, for this could easily be accounted for by his education at
   Bethlehem, and prolonged residence in the East.

   [539] De Div. Lect. Pref., and c. xxix.

   [540] Conference XIV. ix.; Institute V. xxxv.

   [541] Chronicle.

   [542] Parisinus. Nouv. acquis. Lat. 260, of the eighth or ninth
   century.

   [543] Institutes XI. xviii.

   [544] Conference XXIV. i.

   [545] See the Institutes III. iv.; IV. xix.-xxi., xxxi. Conferences I.
   i.; XI. i. v.; XIX. i.; XX. i. The date is too early for this to have
   been S. Jerome's famous monastery, as that father only settled at
   Bethlehem towards the close of 386, by which time Cassian himself must
   have been already in Egypt; nor does he anywhere in his writings make
   any allusion to Jerome as his teacher, although he mentions him with
   great respect in his work on the Incarnation, Book VII. c. xxvi.

   [546] Conference XI. i. A good account of Cassian's visits to Egypt is
   given in Fleury's Ecclesiastical History, Book XX., c. iii.-vii.

   [547] Conference XVII. ii.

   [548] Conference XI. i.-iii., and compare VII. xxvi. for another
   description of the same district.

   [549] Conferences XI., XII., XIII.

   [550] Conferences XIV., XV.

   [551] Conference XVI. i.

   [552] Conferences XVI., XVII.

   [553] See Conference XVII. i.-v. and xxx.

   [554] Conference XX. i., ii. The story is also told in the Institutes,
   IV. xxx.

   [555] Institute V. xxxii.-xlii.

   [556] Conference XX.

   [557] Institute V. xxxvi.

   [558] Conference XVIII. On the Sarabaites, see the note on c. vii.

   [559] Conference XIX. i.

   [560] Conference XIX. i.

   [561] Conference XXI.

   [562] Conference XXII.

   [563] Conference XXIII.

   [564] Conference XXIV. i.

   [565] Conference XXIV.

   [566] Institute V. xxxvi. sq.

   [567] Conference XVII. xxx.

   [568] Butler's Coptic Churches, Vol. I., p. 287.

   [569] Rosweyd, Vitae Patrum; and the Bollandist Acta Sanctorum, 14
   April, Vol. II., 201-3.

   [570] Dictionary of Christian Biography, art. Ammon; cf. Rufinus,
   Hist.: Monach, xxx.; and Palladius, Hist.: Lausiaca, viii.

   [571] Hist., Monach, c. xxi.

   [572] Sozomen, H.E. VI. xxxi.

   [573] Hist., Laus., c. vii.

   [574] Epp.: ad Eustochium, ad Rustic.

   [575] Part. I., cc. vii., viii.

   [576] The Ancient Coptic Churches of Egypt, by Alfred J. Butler. 2
   vols. (Oxford, 1884).

   [577] Curzon, p. 79.

   [578] Butler, Vol. I., pp. 295, 6, 7.

   [579] Conference II. ii.; III. v.

   [580] Conference I.

   [581] Conference II.

   [582] Conference III.

   [583] Conference IV.

   [584] Conference V.

   [585] Conference VI.

   [586] Conference VII.

   [587] Conference VIII.

   [588] Conference IX. x.

   [589] See Conference X. cc. i-iii.

   [590] See Conference XI. i.

   [591] Compare the Institutes, IV. xxiii.

   [592] On the Incarnation, VII. xxxi.

   [593] Palladius Dial. iii.; Sozomen, H. E. VIII. xxvi.

   [594] It is highly precarious to infer from the language used in the
   Institutes, III. that Cassian visited Mesopotamia before settling in
   Gaul. His departure from Rome may perhaps have been occasioned by the
   Gothic invasion of Italy and Alaric's sieges of Rome, 408-410.

   [595] Montalembert's Monks of the West, Vol. I. p. 464 (Eng.
   Translation). The names of Hilary of Arles, Vincent of Lerins, Salvian,
   Eucherius of Lyons, Lupus of Troyes, and Caesarius of Arles, are alone
   sufficient to render the monastery of Lerins illustrious in the annals
   of the Church of Gaul.

   [596] Montalembert, l. c.

   [597] The Acts of S. Victor's martyrdom given by Ruinart, Acta Sincera,
   p. 225, have been attributed by Tillemont and others to Cassian, but
   without sufficient reason.

   [598] The Church in Roman Gaul, by R. Travers Smith, p. 245.

   [599] This is the title which Cassian himself gives to the work in his
   Preface to the Conferences.

   [600] Institutes, Preface.

   [601] Castor is commemorated on the twenty-first of September. See the
   Bollandist Acta Sanctorum, Sept. VI. 249.

   [602] See the Institutes II. i., ix., xviii.; V. iv.

   [603] With Papa Leonti et Sancte frater Helladi, in the Preface to
   Conference I., compare beatissimis Episcopis Helladio ac Leontio, in
   the Preface to Conference XVIII.

   [604] See the Preface to the work On the Incarnation against Nestorius.

   [605] See the Epistle of Celestine to Nestorius in Mansi IV. 1026, in
   which he apologizes for delay by saying that the letter and other
   documents sent by Nestorius had had to be translated into Latin.

   [606] See On the Incarnation, Book I. c. ii. sq.

   [607] The Anti-Pelagian Treatises of S. Augustine; with an Introduction
   by William Bright, D.D. (Oxford), 1889, p. 1.

   [608] Epistle xciv.

   [609] Anti-Pelagian Treatises, p. liv., lv.

   [610] Epp. ccxxv., ccxxvi., in the correspondence of S. Augustine.
   Works, Vol. II. 820, in the Benedictine Edition.

   [611] Cassian himself quotes Augustine as an authority for the Catholic
   doctrine of the Incarnation in his work against Nestorius, VII. xxvii.
   But it is remarkable that, whereas on all the other authorities quoted
   (Hilary, Ambrose, Jerome, Rufinus, Gregory, Nazianzen, Athanasius, and
   Chrysostom) a high encomium is passed, Augustine alone is alluded to
   with no words of praise, being simply spoken of as priest (sacerdos) of
   Hippo Regius. There is no authority for the reading "magnus sacerdos,"
   found in the editions of Cuyck and Gazet, which misled Neander. Ch.
   Hist. Vol. IV. p. 376, E. T.

   [612] The only person referred to by name is Hilary, who had just
   succeeded Honoratus as Bishop of Arles. This fixes the date of the
   correspondence as 429.

   [613] Bright's Anti-Pelagian Treatises, l. c.

   [614] The letter is given in full in Gazet's edition of Cassian, with
   certain doctrinal articles appended, which really belong to a later
   date. See Dr. Newman's note to the English translation of Fleury, Book
   XXVI. c. xi.

   [615] The treatise is given in Gazet's edition of Cassian.

   [616] The propositions extracted by Prosper are the following:-- (1)
   That the initiative not only of our actions but also of our good
   thoughts comes from God, who inspires us with a good will to begin
   with, and supplies us with the opportunity of carrying out what we
   rightly desire; for "every good gift and every perfect gift cometh down
   from above, from the Father of light," who both begins what is good,
   and continues it and completes it in us. c. iii. This proposition
   Prosper allows to be catholic and orthodox. (2) The Divine protection
   is inseparably present with us, and so great is the kindness of the
   Creator towards His creatures that His Providence not only accompanies
   it, but even constantly precedes it, as the prophet experienced and
   plainly confessed, saying, "My God will prevent me with His mercy." And
   when He sees in us some beginnings of a good will, He at once
   enlightens and strengthens it, and urges it on towards salvation,
   increasing that which He Himself implanted, or which He sees to have
   arisen from our own efforts. c. viii. (3) Only in all these there is a
   declaration of the grace of God and the freedom of the will, because
   even of his own motion a man can be led to the quest of virtue, but
   always stands in need of the help of the Lord. For neither does any one
   enjoy good health whenever he likes, nor is he of his own will and
   pleasure set free from disease and sickness. c. ix. (4) That it may be
   still clearer that, through the excellence of nature, which is granted
   by the goodness of the Creator, sometimes the first beginnings of a
   good will arise, which, however, cannot attain to the complete
   performance of what is good unless they are guided by the Lord, the
   apostle bears witness, and says, "For to will is present with me, but
   to perform what is good I find not." Ib. (5) And so these are somehow
   mixed up and indiscriminately confused, so that, among many persons,
   the question which depends upon the other is involved in great
   difficulty; i.e., does God have compassion upon us because we have
   shown the beginning of a good will, or does the beginning of a good
   will follow because God has had compassion upon us? For many, believing
   each of these alternatives, and asserting them more broadly than is
   right, are entangled in all kinds of opposite errors. For if we say
   that the beginning of free will is in our own power, what about Paul
   the persecutor, what about Matthew the publican, of whom the one was
   drawn to salvation while eager for bloodshed and the punishment of the
   innocent, the other while eager for violence and rapine? But, if we say
   that the beginning of our free will is always due to the inspiration of
   the grace of God, what about the faith of Zacchaeus, or what are we to
   say of the goodness of the thief on the cross, who by their own desires
   brought violence to bear on the kingdom of heaven, and prevented the
   special leadings of their vocation? c. xi. (6) These two, then, viz.,
   the grace of God and Free-will, seem opposed to each other, but really
   are in harmony; and we gather from natural piety that we ought to have
   both alike, lest if we withdraw one of them from men we should seem to
   have broken the rule of the Church's faith. Ib. (7) Adam, therefore,
   after the fall, conceived a knowledge of evil which he had not
   previously, but did not lose the knowledge of good which he already
   possessed. c. xii. (8) Wherefore we must take care not to refer all the
   merits of the saints to the Lord in such a way as to ascribe nothing
   but what is evil and perverse to human nature. Ib. (9) It cannot be
   doubted that there are by nature some seeds of goodness implanted by
   the kindness of the Creator, but unless they are quickened by the
   assistance of God they cannot attain an increase of perfection. Ib.
   (10) And for this, too, we read that in the case of Job, his well-tried
   athlete, when the Devil had challenged him to single combat, the Divine
   righteousness had made provision. For, if he had advanced against his
   foe not with his own strength, but solely with the protection of God's
   grace, and, supported only by Divine aid, without any virtue of
   patience on his own part, had borne that manifold weight of temptations
   and losses, contrived with all the cruelty of his foe, might not the
   Devil have repeated with some justice that slanderous speech which he
   had previously uttered, "Doth Job serve God for nought? Hast Thou not
   hedged him in, and all his substance round about? But take away thine
   hand," i.e., allow him to fight with me in his own strength, "and he
   will curse Thee to Thy face." But, as after the struggle the slanderous
   foe dared not give vent to any such murmur as this, he admitted that he
   was vanquished by his (i.e., Job's) strength, and not by that of God:
   although, too, we must not hold that the grace of God was altogether
   wanting to him, which gave to the tempter a power of tempting in
   proportion to that which he had of resisting. c. xiv. (11) The Lord
   marvelled at him (viz., the centurion), and praised him, and put him
   before all those of the people of Israel who had believed, saying,
   "Verily, I say unto you, I have not found so great faith in Israel."
   For there would have been no ground for praise or merit if Christ had
   only preferred in him what He Himself had given. Ib. (12) Hence it
   comes that in our prayers we proclaim God as not only our protector and
   Saviour, but actually as our helper and sponsor. For whereas He first
   calls us to Him, and while we are still ignorant and unwilling draws us
   towards salvation, He is our protector and Saviour; but whereas, when
   we are already striving, He is wont to bring us help, and to receive
   and defend those who fly to Him for refuge, He is deemed our sponsor
   and refuge. c. xvii. This last extract is in itself perfectly orthodox,
   and might be thought merely to express the distinction between
   "preventing" and "co-operating" grace; but the context makes it clear
   that Cassian means that in some cases grace "prevents," while in others
   the initial movement towards salvation comes from man, and grace is
   only needed to "co-operate."

   [617] Gennadius, in Catal., c. lxii. Ad extremum rogatus a Leone
   Archidiacono, postea urbis Romae Episcopo, scripsit adversus Nestorium
   "De Incarnatione Domini" libros septem, et in his scribendi apud
   Massiliam et vivendi finem fecit Theodosio et Valentiniano regnantibus.
   The local commemoration of Cassian is on July 23.

   [618] On the history of Semi-Pelagianism see Bright's Anti-Pelagian
   Treatises of S. Augustine, Introd., pp. xlix.-lxviii., and the
   Christian Remembrancer, Vol. XXXI. pp. 155-162.

   [619] Historical Sketches, Vol. III., p. 307.

   [620] The identification is anything but certain, for though there is
   no difficulty in the term Romaios, as that is also applied to our
   author by Photius, yet the additional statement made in the Horologion,
   that he was originally stratiotikos ten taxin, suggests that a
   different person is alluded to, possibly the same as the Cassian
   commemorated in the Roman martyrology on August 13. A list of some
   twenty-five churches where Cassian is honoured as a saint is given in
   Guesnay's Cassianus Illustratus.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   The History of Cassian's Writings, MSS., and Editions.

   The literary history of Cassian's works is not without an interest of
   its own. We have already seen the estimation in which they were held in
   spite of their Semi-Pelagian doctrines. These were naturally accounted
   a blemish, and it is not surprising that those who most admired their
   excellences were anxious to avoid propagating their errors. Hence they
   were often "expurgated," and in many mss. the text has suffered
   considerably from the changes made by copyists in the interests of
   orthodoxy. As early as the fifth century we find two revised versions
   of portions of his works existing. His friend Eucherius, Bishop of
   Lyons, was the author of an epitome of the Institutes, which still
   exists; [621] and although this was compiled for convenience' sake
   because of the length of the original work, rather than from any
   suspicion of his teaching, the case is different with a recension made
   for use in Africa by Victor, Bishop of Martyrites. This is no longer
   extant, but Cassiodorus distinctly tells us that it was made in the
   interests of orthodoxy by means of expurgation as well as addition of
   what was wanting. [622] Yet another epitome of three of the Conferences
   (I., II., VII.) was made at some time before the tenth century. It was
   translated into Greek, and known to Photius, who speaks [623] of three
   works of Cassian as translated into Greek: viz., (1) an Epitome of the
   Institutes, Books I.-IV.; (2) Epitome of the Institutes, Books V.-XII.;
   and (3) one of the Conferences I., II., VII.

   Thus in very early days the fashion was set of expurgating and emending
   the writings of Cassian; and Leuwis de Ryckel, better known as
   Dionysius Carthusianus, might have quoted several precedents for his
   method of dealing with the text. This famous divine,--the doctor
   exstaticus of the fifteenth century,--shocked as others had been before
   him at the Semi-Pelagianism of the Conferences, and yet sensible of
   their real value in spite of sundry blemishes, took in hand to correct
   them, and gave to the world a free paraphrase both of the Institutes
   and of the Conferences, in a somewhat simple style and one more easy to
   be understood than the original. The greatest alterations, as might be
   expected, are visible in the thirteenth Conference; as Dionysius, in
   his endeavour to make Cassian orthodox, omits all that savours of
   Semi-Pelagianism; and from c. viii. onward there are large omissions
   and various suggestive alterations in the text. [624]

   Incidental mention has been already made of the esteem in which the
   Institutes and Conferences were held by S. Benedict and Cassiodorus. In
   the Rule of the former (c. xlii.) it is ordered that after supper the
   brethren should assemble together, and one of them should read the
   Conferences, or Lives of the Fathers, or any other book calculated to
   edify. And again, in the closing chapter of the same rule, the study of
   them is recommended to those who are desirous of perfection; for "what
   are the Conferences of the Fathers, the Institutes, and the lives of
   them; what, too, the Rule of our holy father, S. Basil, but examples of
   virtuous and obedient monks, and helps to the attainment of virtue?"
   Equally strong is the recommendation of Cassiodorus: "Sedulo legite,
   frequenter audite;" but at the same time he reminds his readers that
   Cassian was very properly censured by Prosper for his teaching on
   Freewill, and that, therefore, he is to be read with caution whenever
   he touches on this subject. With testimonies such as these to their
   value it is no wonder that copies were rapidly multiplied, so that
   scarcely a monastery was without a copy of some part of them; and
   existing mss. of the Institutes and Conferences are very numerous. But
   none of the oldest mss. contain the complete work. The institutes were
   often regarded as made up of two separate treatises,--(1) the
   Institutes of the Coenobia, containing Books I.-IV., and (2) On the
   Eight Principal Faults, comprising Books V.-XII. So, too, with the
   Conferences, and their three divisions: they are often found separately
   in different mss.

   The mss. being so numerous, it was found impossible to collate them all
   for the latest edition of Cassian's works; viz., that edited by
   Petschenig for the Vienna Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum.
   The Editor therefore confined his attention to a limited number, of
   which the following is the list.

   I. The Institutes.

   1. Codex Casinensis Rescriptus, 295. A Palimpsest with the Epistles of
   S. Jerome written over Cassian's work. The date of this ms. is the
   seventh or eighth century, and it contains portions only of the
   Institutes, nothing remaining of Books I.-IV., or of VIII. and IX.

   2. Codex Majoris Seminarii OEduensis (Autun), 24. Seventh century,
   containing portions of Books V.-XII.

   3. Caroliruhensis, 87. Eighth century, containing all twelve books.

   4. Sangallensis, 183. Ninth century.

   5. Parisinus, 12292. Tenth century.

   6. Laudunensis (Laon), 328 bis. Ninth century.

   7. Caroliruhensis, 164. Ninth century.

   II. Conferences I.-X.

   1. Vaticanus, 5766. Eighth century.

   2. Parisinus, Bibl. Nat., 13384. Ninth century.

   3. Vercellensis (Chapter Library), 187, 44. Cent. 8-10.

   4. Parisinus, Bibl. Nat. nouv. fonds, 2170. Ninth century. This (with a
   few lacunae) contains all the Conferences, being the only one of
   Petschenig's mss. of which this can be said.

   5. Vaticanus, Bibl. Palat., 560. Tenth century.

   6. Sangallensis, 574. Cent. 9-10.

   Of these mss. the last two contain many errors and interpolations, some
   of which are followed in the editions of Cassian published at Basle,
   1485-1495.

   III. Conferences XI.-XVII.

   1. Sessorianus (Rome), 55. Cent. 7-8.

   2. Petropolitanus, Bibl. Imp. O. 1, 4. Seventh or eighth century.

   3. Sangallensis, 576. Ninth century.

   4. Parisinus, Bibl. Nat. nouv. fonds., 2170 (as above).

   5. Vindobonensis, 397. Tenth century. This Vienna ms. contains
   Prosper's work Contra Collatorem, the passages of Cassian being written
   in the margin.

   IV. Conferences XVIII.-XXIV.

   1. Monacensis, 4549. Cent. 8-9.

   2. Monacensis, 6343. Ninth century.

   3. Parisinus, Bibl. Nat. nouv. fonds., 2170 (as above).

   4. Vaticanus, Bibl. Reginae Sueciae, 140. Cent. 9-10.

   5. Caroliruhensis, 92. Ninth century.

   6. Sangallensis, 575. Ninth century.

   Passing now from the Institutes and Conferences to the work "On the
   Incarnation against Nestorius," we are no longer encumbered by the
   number of mss. There was not the same reason for the multiplication of
   copies of it as there was in the case of those writings which bore on
   the monastic life. It appears never to have obtained any special
   popularity, and, so far as is known, only seven mss. of it are still in
   existence. The following are those of which Petschenig made use for his
   edition:--

   1. Codex Bibl. Armentarii Parisiensis (Bibl. de l'Arsenal), 483. Cent.
   10-11.

   2. British Museum addl., 16414. Cent. 11-12.

   3. Parisinus, Bibl. Nat., 14860. Thirteenth century.

   4. Bibl. Coloniensium Augustinianorum. This ms. is now lost, but was
   used by Cuyck for his edition of Cassian, and from this Petschenig is
   able to give selected readings.

   The remaining mss. known to exist, but not used by Petschenig, are
   these:--

   1. Matritensis, Bibl. Nat., Q. 106. Twelfth century.

   2. Laurentianus (Laurentian Library at Florence), XXVI., 13. Fifteenth
   century.

   3. Bibl. Leop. Medici Foesulanae (also at Florence), 48. Fifteenth
   century.

   4. Parisinus, 2143. Fourteenth century. [625]

   It only remains to give some account of the various editions of the
   printed text.

   It has generally been stated that the earliest edition of the
   Institutes was that printed at Venice in 1481, of which only a single
   copy is known to exist, viz., in the Laurentian Library at Florence;
   and that the first edition which included the Conferences was that
   published by Amerbach at Basle in 1485. This statement, however,
   appears to be erroneous, as there still exists in the British Museum a
   single copy of a very early black-letter edition of the Conferences.
   The title-page is gone, and there is no colophon; and, therefore, the
   date cannot be given with certainty, but the work is assigned by the
   authorities of the Museum to the year 1476, and is thought to have
   proceeded from the press of the Brothers of the Common life at
   Brussels. The first page of the work begins as follows: "Ut Valeas cor
   in opere isto citius invenire qd requiris haec tibi concapitulatio
   breviter demostrabit quis unde in singulis collationibus disputaverit."
   Then follows a list of the twenty-four Conferences with their authors,
   and the page ends with these words: "Prologus cassiani sup. collationes
   patru ad leontiu et elladiu epos. In nomine Domini ihu cristi dei
   nostri feliciter."

   This, then, in all probability was the first edition of the Latin text
   of the Conferences. But it is a curious fact that at a still earlier
   date a free German translation or paraphrase of them had already been
   published. This, like the work just mentioned, has been overlooked by
   all the editors of Cassian, but two copies of it still remain in the
   British Museum, beginning as follow: "Hic liber a quodam egregio
   sacrarum literarum professore magistro Johane Nide ordis pdicatorum
   fratre de latino in vulgarem Nuremberge translatus est." The colophon
   in one copy gives the date as 1472, and the place at which it was
   printed as Augsberg. The other copy has no date but is assigned by the
   authorities of the Museum to a still earlier year; viz., 1470.

   The Basle edition of 1485 was reprinted at the press of Amerbach in
   1497; and at Venice there was issued a second edition of the
   Institutes, to which the Conferences were added, in 1491. [626]
   Subsequent early editions are those of Lyons, in 1516 and 1525, and
   Bologna 1521. But not till 1534 were the seven books on the Incarnation
   against Nestorius published. They appear for the first time in the
   edition which was issued in this year from the press of Cratander at
   Basle.

   Far superior to all these early editions, which were very faulty, was
   that published by Christopher Plantin at Antwerp in 1578, edited by H.
   Cuyck, Professor at Louvain and afterward Bishop of Ruremonde. It was
   undertaken at the suggestion of Cardinal Carafa, and its full title is
   the following: "D. Ioannis Cassiani Eremitae Monasticarum Institutionum
   libri IIII. De Capitalibus vitiis libri VIII. Collationes SS. Patrum
   XXIIII. De Verbi Incarnatione libri VII. Nunc demum post varias
   editiones ad complurium ms. fidem a non pancis mendarum milibus
   incredibili labore expurgati: id quod ex subiectis ad calcem
   castigationibus facile cognosci poterit: additis etiam ad quaedam loca
   censoriis notationibus, et obscurarum vocum ac sententiarun
   elucidatione, un a cum duobus Indicibus locupletissimis. Accesserunt
   quoque Regulae SS. Patrum ex antiquissimo Affliginiensis monasterii ms.
   codice desumptae. Opera et studio Henrici Cuyckii Sacrae Theologiae
   Licentiati."

   Cuyck's work was supplemented, also at Carafa's desire, by Petrus
   Ciacconius, a priest of Toledo, who died in 1581, before it was ready
   for the press. A new edition was, however, published at Rome in 1588
   "ex Edibus Dominicae Basae," in which the notes and emendations of
   Ciacconius were embodied. Unfortunately this edition does not contain
   the books on the Incarnation. Its full title is as follows: "Ioannis
   Cassiani Eremitae de institutis renuntiantium Libri XII. Collationes
   Sanctorum Patrum XXIIII. Adiectae sunt quarundam obscurarum dictionum
   interpretationes ordine alphabeti dispositae: et observationes in loca
   ambigua et minus tuta. Praeterea Indices duo testimoniorum sacrae
   Scripturae, quae a Cassiano vel explicantur, vel aliter quam vulgata
   editio habet, citantur: ac postremo verum memorabilium Index
   copiosissimus. Accedit Regula S. Pachomii, quae a S. Hieronymo in
   Latinum sermonem conversa est: Omnia multo quam antehac, auxilio
   vetustissimorum codicum, emendatiora, et ad suam integritatem
   restituta." This edition, as well as the previous one, contained a
   dissertation on a number of passages (some thirty in all) of doubtful
   orthodoxy, in order to put the reader on his guard against following
   Cassian in his errors.

   In 1616 there was published at Douay in two volumes what has remained
   until the present day the standard edition of Cassian's works, prepared
   with loving care by a Benedictine monk of the Abbey of St. Vaast at
   Arras, named Gazet. This edition is enriched throughout with copious
   annotations, containing an immense amount of illustrative matter; and
   besides the text of Cassian's works it contains several other documents
   of importance for a right understanding of them. The full title is
   this: "Ioannis Cassiani presbyteri, quem alii eremitam, alii abbatem
   nuncupant, opera omnia. Novissime recognita, repurgata et notis
   amplissimis illustrata. Quibus accessere alia ejusdem argumenti
   opuscula, quorum elenchum sequens pagina exhibebit. Studio et opera D.
   Alardi Gazaei coenobitae Vedastini ord. Benedicti."

   Besides the Institutes, Conferences, and the work on the Incarnation
   against Nestorius, these volumes contained the following among other
   material:--

   The Rule of St. Pachomius.

   The Catholic doctrine substituted for the latter part of Conference
   XIII. by Dionysius Carthusianus.

   Prosper "Contra Collatorem."

   This edition has been frequently reprinted, [627] some of the later
   reprints containing still more illustrative material. It still remains
   indispensable to the student of Cassian's works by reason of the
   valuable commentary with which it is throughout enriched. But for the
   mere text it is now altogether superseded by the fine edition prepared
   by Petschenig for the Vienna Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum
   Latinorum, in two volumes.

   Vol. I.--Ioannis Cassiani De Institutis Coenobiorum et de octo
   Principalium Vitiorum Remediis Libri XII. De Incarnatione Domini Contra
   Nestorium Libri VII. recensuit et commentario critico instruxit Michael
   Petschenig. Accedunt Prolegomena et Indices (Vindobonae, 1888).

   Vol. II.--Ioannis Cassiani Conlationes XXIIII. (Vindobonae, 1886).
   Petschenig's work is admirably done, and the text of this edition is
   vastly superior to that of all its predecessors. In the present
   translation it has been used throughout the Conferences. The volume
   containing the Institutes and the work on the Incarnation unfortunately
   appeared too late for the translation to be made from it. It has,
   however, been carefully compared with the text of Ciacconius, which
   Gazet merely repeats, [628] and attention is called to the chief
   variations in the notes.

   Mention has already been made of the early German paraphrase or
   translation, dating from 1470 or 1472; and the popularity of the
   Cassian's works is evinced by the number of other early translations
   made into the various languages of Europe. Of these next in order of
   time is one in Flemish. In the copy of this in the British Museum the
   title is wanting, the book beginning as follows: "Hier beghint der
   ouder vader collacie. Hi hyetede Ioannes Cassianus die dese
   vieretwintich navolgende vad, collacien ghemaect hevet." The colophon
   is this: "Hier eyndet een seer goede en profitelike leeringhe. En is
   ghenoemt der ouder vaders collacien. Michiel hiller van Hoochstraten.
   Tantwerpen 1506. fol."

   Very little later is the first of several French translations, with the
   following curious title: "Les Collacions des sains Peres anciens
   translateez de Grec en latin. Par Cassiodorus tres sainct docteur en
   theologie et translateez de latin en francoys par maistre ieha gosein
   aussy docteur en theologie de l'ordre des freres de la Montaigne du
   carme et imprimees nouvellement a paris." No date is given, but the
   work is assigned by the Museum authorities to the year 1510.

   Later French translations are the following:--

   Paris. Chez Charles Savreux. 8DEG les Conferences de Cassien traduites
   en franc,ois par De Saligny. 1663. (This edition altogether omits the
   thirteenth Conference.)

   Paris. Chez Charles Savreux. 8DEG les Institutions de Cassien traduites
   en franc,ois par De Saligny. 1667.

   Institutions de Cassien traduites par E. Cartier. Paris, Tours, 1872.

   There are also two Italian translations, one as early as 1563 (Opera.
   Tradotta per B. Buffi. Venetia. 1563. 4DEG), and one of the present
   century,--Volgarizzamento delle collazioni dei SS. Padri del venerabile
   G. C. [By Bartolommeo da San Concordio?] Testo di lingua in edito
   [edited by T. Bini]. Lucca. 1854. 8DEG.

   It is remarkable that England has till now stood almost alone in
   possessing no translation, Cassian's works having never yet appeared in
   an English press. It is hoped that the version now offered to the
   reader may do something to make the works of this interesting and most
   instructive writer more widely known than they appear to be at present.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [621] Gennadius, Catal. lxiv. In the Dictionary of Christian
   Antiquities, art. Eucherius, this is said to be lost. But see Migne,
   Vol. L. p. 867 sq.; and cf. Petschenig's Introduction to Cassian, p.
   xcvi.

   [622] Div. Lect. c. xxix. Cujus (Cassiani) dicta Victor Mattaritanus
   Episcopus Afer ita Domino juvante purgavit et quae minus erant addidit
   ut ei rerum istarum palma merito conferatur: quem inter alios de Africa
   partibus cito nobis credimus esse dirigendum.

   [623] Biblioth, Cod. 197.

   [624] The "Doctrina Catholica Beati Dionysii Richelii Carthusiani
   precedenti Collationi ab ipso substituta," given in Gazet's edition,
   and hence in Migne's, as c. xix., is only the latter part of the
   paraphrase of this Conference, beginning in c. viii., with the words,
   "Adest igitur inseparabiliter nobis," etc. The paraphrase may be found
   in Vol. III. of the edition of the works of Dionysius, published at
   Cologne in 1540. Of this there is a copy in the British Museum which
   was formerly in the possession of Archbishop Cranmer, and which still
   contains his autograph.

   [625] On all these mss. see Petschenig's introduction, Cassian, Vol. I.
   pp. xiv.-lxxviii.

   [626] Of this edition there is a copy in the British Museum which
   formerly belonged to the Convent of S. Mark at Florence, and is
   enriched with marginal notes in the handwriting of Girolamo Savonarola.

   [627] Gazet himself prepared a revised edition, which was brought out
   after his death, at Arras, in 1628.

   [628] The edition used is that published at Leipsic in 1733. It cannot,
   however, be recommended, as it is full of misprints.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

Preface.
     __________________________________________________________________

   The history of the Old Testament tells us that the most wise Solomon
   received from heaven "wisdom and understanding exceeding much, and
   largeness of heart even as the sand that is on the seashore that cannot
   be counted;" [629] so that by the Lord's testimony we may say that no
   one either has arisen in time past equal to him or will arise after
   him: and afterward, when wishing to raise that magnificent temple to
   the Lord, we are told that he asked the help of a foreigner, the king
   of Tyre. And when there was sent to him one Hiram, the son of a widow
   woman, [630] it was by his means and ministration that he executed all
   the glorious things which he devised by the suggestion of the Divine
   wisdom either for the temple of the Lord or for the sacred vessels. If,
   then, that power that was higher than all the kingdoms of the earth,
   and that noble and illustrious scion of the race of Israel, and that
   divinely inspired wisdom which excelled the training and customs of all
   the Easterns and Egyptians, by no means disdained the advice of a poor
   man and a foreigner, rightly also do you, most blessed Pope [631]
   Castor, taught by these examples, deign to call in me, a worthless
   creature though I am, and in every respect as poor as possible, to a
   share in so great a work. When you are planning to build a true and
   reasonable temple for God, not with inanimate stones but with a
   congregation of saints, and no temporal or corruptible building, but
   one that is eternal and cannot be shaken; and desiring also to
   consecrate to the Lord most precious vessels not forged of dumb [632]
   metal, of gold or silver, which a Babylonish monarch may afterwards
   take and devote to the pleasures of his concubines and princes, [633]
   but fashioned of holy souls which shine with the uprightness of
   innocence, righteousness, and purity, and bear about Christ abiding in
   themselves as King;--since, then, you are anxious that the institutions
   of the East and especially of Egypt should be established in your
   province, which is at present without monasteries, [634] although you
   are yourself perfect in all virtues and knowledge and so filled with
   all spiritual riches that not only your talk but even your life alone
   is amply sufficient for an example to those who are seeking
   perfection,--yet you ask me, not knowing what to say, and feeble in
   speech and knowledge, to contribute something from the scanty supply of
   my thoughts toward the satisfaction of your desire; and you charge me
   to declare, although with inexpert pen, the customs of the monasteries
   which we have seen observed throughout Egypt and Palestine, as they
   were there delivered to us by the Fathers; not looking for graceful
   speech, in which you yourself are especially skilled, but wanting the
   simple life of holy men to be told in simple language to the brethren
   in your new monastery. But in proportion as a dutiful desire of
   granting your request urges me to obey, so do manifold difficulties and
   embarrassments deter me when wishing to comply. First, because my
   merits are not so proportioned to my age as for me to trust that I can
   worthily comprehend with my mind and heart matters so difficult, so
   obscure, and so sacred. Secondly, because that which we either tried to
   do or learnt or saw when from our earliest youth we lived among them
   and were urged on by their daily exhortations and examples,--this we
   can scarcely retain in its entirety when we have been for so many years
   withdrawn from intercourse with them and from following their mode of
   life; especially as the method of these things cannot possibly be
   taught or understood or kept in the memory by idle meditation and
   verbal teaching, for it depends entirely upon experience and practice.
   And, as these things cannot be taught save by one who has had
   experience of them, so they cannot even be learnt or understood except
   by one who has tried with equal care and pains to grasp them; while,
   unless they are often discussed and well worn in frequent conferences
   with spiritual men, they quickly fade away through carelessness of
   mind. Thirdly, because a discourse that is lacking in skill cannot
   properly expound those things which we can recall to mind, not as the
   things themselves deserve, but as our condition allows us. To this it
   must be added that on this very subject men who were noble in life and
   eminent for speech and knowledge have already put forth several little
   books, I mean Basil and Jerome, and some others, the former of whom,
   when the brethren asked about various rules and questions, replied in
   language that was not only eloquent but rich in testimonies from Holy
   Scripture; while the latter not only published works that were the
   offspring of his own genius, but also translated into Latin works that
   had been written in Greek. [635] And, after such abundant streams of
   eloquence, I might not unfairly be accused of presumption for trying to
   produce this feeble rill, were it not that the confidence of your
   holiness encouraged me, and the assurance that these trifles would be
   acceptable to you, whatever they were like, and that you would send
   them to the congregation of the brethren dwelling in your newly founded
   monastery. And if by chance I have said anything without sufficient
   care, may they kindly overlook it and endure it with a somewhat
   indulgent pardon, asking rather for trustworthiness of speech than for
   grace of style on my part. Wherefore, most blessed Pope, remarkable
   example of religion and humility, encouraged by your prayers, I will to
   the best of my ability approach the work which you enjoin; and those
   masters which were altogether left untouched by those who preceded us,
   since they endeavoured to describe what they had heard rather than what
   they had experienced, these things I will tell as to an inexperienced
   monastery, and to men who are indeed [636] athirst. Nor certainly shall
   I try to weave a tale of God's miracles and signs, although we have not
   only heard of many such among our elders, and those past belief, but
   have also seen them fulfilled under our very eyes; yet, leaving out all
   these things which minister to the reader nothing but astonishment and
   no instruction in the perfect life, I shall try, so far as I can, with
   the help of God, faithfully to explain only their institutions and the
   rules of their monasteries, and especially the origin and causes of the
   principal faults, of which they reckon eight, and the remedies for them
   according to their traditions,--since my purpose is to say a few words
   not about God's miracles, but about the way to improve our character,
   and the attainment of the perfect life, in accordance with that which
   we received from our elders. In this, too, I will try to satisfy your
   directions, so that, if I happen to find that anything has been either
   withdrawn or added in those countries not in accordance with the
   example of the elders established by ancient custom, but according to
   the fancy of any one who has founded a monastery, I will faithfully add
   it or omit it, in accordance with the rule which I have seen followed
   in the monasteries anciently founded throughout Egypt and Palestine, as
   I do not believe that a new establishment in the West, in the parts of
   Gaul could find anything more reasonable or more perfect than are those
   customs, in the observance of which the monasteries that have been
   founded by holy and spiritually minded fathers since the rise of
   apostolic preaching endure even to our own times. I shall, however,
   venture to exercise this discretion in my work,--that where I find
   anything in the rule of the Egyptians which, either because of the
   severity of the climate, or owing to some difficulty or diversity of
   habits, is impossible in these countries, or hard and difficult, I
   shall to some extent balance it by the customs of the monasteries which
   are found throughout Pontus and Mesopotamia; because, if due regard be
   paid to what things are possible, there is the same perfection in the
   observance although the power may be unequal.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [629] 1 Kings iv. 29.

   [630] Ib. vii. 13.

   [631] Papa. The title was at an early period confined to bishops in the
   West, but was not limited to the Bishop of Rome till a later date.

   [632] Petschenig's text reads muto. Another reading is multo.

   [633] Cf. Dan. v. 2.

   [634] Castor, at whose request this work was written, was Bishop of
   Apta Julia in Gallia Narbonensis.

   [635] The reference is to Basil's horoi kata platos (the greater
   monastic rules), and horoi kata epitomen (the lesser rules), written in
   the form of answers to questions of the monks. Jerome translated the
   rule of Pachomius, besides writing the lives of the hermits Paul,
   Malchus, and Hilarion.

   [636] in veritate. Another reading is veritatem.
     __________________________________________________________________

The Twelve Books of John Cassian

        on the

  Institutes of the Coenobia,

        and the

  Remedies for the Eight Principal Faults.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

   Book I.

  Of the Dress of the Monks.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I. [637]

   Of the Monk's Girdle.

   As we are going to speak of the customs and rules of the monasteries,
   how by God's grace can we better begin than with the actual dress of
   the monks, for we shall then be able to expound in due course their
   interior life when we have set their outward man before your eyes. A
   monk, then, as a soldier of Christ ever ready for battle, ought always
   to walk with his loins girded. For in this fashion, too, the authority
   of Holy Scripture shows that they walked who in the Old Testament
   started the original of this life,--I mean Elijah and Elisha; and,
   moreover, we know that the leaders and authors of the New Testament,
   viz., John, Peter, and Paul, and the others of the same rank, walked in
   the same manner. And of these the first-mentioned, who even in the Old
   Testament displayed the flowers of a virgin life and an example of
   chastity and continence, when he had been sent by the Lord to rebuke
   the messengers of Ahaziah, the wicked king of Israel, because when
   confined by sickness he had intended to consult Beelzebub, the god of
   Ekron, on the state of his health, and thereupon the said prophet had
   met them and said that he should not come down from the bed on which he
   lay,--this man was made known to the bed-ridden king by the description
   of the character of his clothing. For when the messengers returned to
   him and brought back the prophet's message, he asked what the man who
   had met them and spoken such words was like and how he was dressed. "An
   hairy man," they said, "and girt with a girdle of leather about his
   loins;" and by this dress the king at once saw that it was the man of
   God, and said: "It is Elijah the Tishbite:" [638] i.e., by the evidence
   of the girdle and the look of the hairy and unkempt body he recognized
   without the slightest doubt the man of God, because this was always
   attached to him as he dwelt among so many thousands of Israelites, as
   if it were impressed as some special sign of his own particular style.
   Of John also, who came as a sort of sacred boundary between the Old and
   New Testament, being both a beginning and an ending, we know by the
   testimony of the Evangelist that "the same John had his raiment of
   camel's hair and a girdle of skin about his loins." [639] When Peter
   also had been put in prison by Herod and was to be brought forth to be
   slain on the next day, when the angel stood by him he was charged:
   "Gird thyself and put on thy shoes." [640] And the angel of the Lord
   would certainly not have charged him to do this had he not seen that
   for the sake of his night's rest he had for a while freed his wearied
   limbs from the girdle usually tied round them. Paul also, going up to
   Jerusalem and soon to be put in chains by the Jews, was met at Caesarea
   by the prophet Agabus, who took his girdle and bound his hands and feet
   to show by his bodily actions the injuries which he was to suffer, and
   said: "So shall the Jews in Jerusalem bind the man whose girdle this
   is, and deliver him into the hands of the Gentiles." [641] And surely
   the prophet would never have brought this forward, or have said "the
   man whose girdle this is," unless Paul had always been accustomed to
   fasten it round his loins.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [637] Cf. Basil's Greater Monastic Rules, Q. xxii., from which a
   considerable portion of this chapter is taken.

   [638] 2 Kings i. 1-8.

   [639] S. Matt. iii. 4.

   [640] Acts xii. 8.

   [641] Acts xxi. 11.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   Of the Monk's Robe.

   Let the robe also of the monk be such as may merely cover the body and
   prevent the disgrace of nudity, and keep off harm from cold, not such
   as may foster the seeds of vanity and pride; for the same apostle tells
   us: "Having food and covering, with these let us be content." [642]
   "Covering," he says, not "raiment," as is wrongly found in some Latin
   copies: that is, what may merely cover the body, not what may please
   the fancy by the splendour of the attire; commonplace, so that it may
   not be thought remarkable for novelty of colour or fashion among other
   men of the same profession; and quite free from anxious carefulness,
   yet not discoloured by stains acquired through neglect. Lastly, let
   them be so far removed from this world's fashions as to remain
   altogether common property for the use of the servants of God. For
   whatever is claimed by one or a few among the servants of God and is
   not the common property of the whole body of the brethren alike is
   either superfluous or vain, and for that reason to be considered
   harmful, and affording an appearance of vanity rather than virtue. And,
   therefore, whatever models we see were not taught either by the saints
   of old who laid the foundations of the monastic life, or by the fathers
   of our own time who in their turn keep up at the present day their
   customs, these we also should reject as superfluous and useless:
   wherefore they utterly disapproved of a robe of sackcloth as being
   visible to all and conspicuous, and what from this very fact will not
   only confer no benefit on the soul but rather minister to vanity and
   pride, and as being inconvenient and unsuitable for the performance of
   necessary work for which a monk ought always to go ready and unimpeded.
   But even if we hear of some respectable persons who have been dressed
   in this garb, a rule for the monasteries is not, therefore, to be
   passed by us, nor should the ancient decrees of the holy fathers be
   upset because we do not think that a few men, presuming on the
   possession of other virtues, are to be blamed even in regard of those
   things which they have practised not in accordance with the Catholic
   rule. For the opinion of a few ought not to be preferred to or to
   interfere with the general rule for all. For we ought to give
   unhesitating allegiance and unquestioning obedience, not to those
   customs and rules which the will of a few have introduced, but to those
   which a long standing antiquity and numbers of the holy fathers have
   passed on by an unanimous decision to those that come after. Nor,
   indeed, ought this to influence us as a precedent for our daily life,
   that Joram, the wicked king of Israel, when surrounded by bands of his
   foes, rent his clothes, and is said to have had sackcloth inside them;
   [643] or that the Ninevites, in order to mitigate the sentence of God,
   which had been pronounced against them by the prophet, were clothed in
   rough sackcloth. [644] The former is shown to have been clothed with it
   secretly underneath, so that unless the upper garment had been rent it
   could not possibly have been known by any one, and the latter tolerated
   a covering of sackcloth at a time when, since all were mourning over
   the approaching destruction of the city and were clothed with the same
   garments, none could be accused of ostentation. For where there is no
   special difference and all are alike no harm is done. [645]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [642] 1 Tim. vi. 8. The Greek is skepasmata, for which Jerome's version
   has "quibus tegamur." Sabbatier gives "victum et vestitum" as the
   rendering of the old Latin, but it is often quoted as "victus et
   tegumentum" by Augustine. "Alimenta et operimenta" must be Cassian's
   own rendering from the Greek. "Vestimenta," which he speaks of as being
   found in some Latin copies, is not given by Sabbatier at all, though
   Jerome quotes the text with "vestimentum" in Ep. ad Titum, III.

   [643] 2 Kings vi. 30.

   [644] Jonah iii. 8.

   [645] Quia nisi insolens sit diversitas non offendit aequalitas
   (Petschenig). The text of Gazaeus has inaequalitas.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   Of the Hoods of the Egyptians.

   There are some things besides in the dress of the Egyptians which
   concern not the care of the body so much as the regulation of the
   character, that the observance of simplicity and innocence may be
   preserved by the very character of the clothing. For they constantly
   use both by day and by night very small hoods coming down to the end of
   the neck and shoulders, which only cover the head, in order that they
   may constantly be moved to preserve the simplicity and innocence of
   little children by imitating their actual dress. [646]  And these men
   have returned to childhood in Christ and sing at all hours with heart
   and soul: "Lord, my heart is not exalted nor are mine eyes lofty.
   Neither have I walked in great matters nor in wonderful things above
   me. If I was not humbly minded, but exalted my soul: as a child that is
   weaned is towards his mother." [647]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [646] The hood, or cowl (cuculla), was anciently worn by children and
   peasants, and thus was said to symbolize humility. Compare the account
   of the Egyptian monks given by Sozomen, Hist. III. xiv.: "They wore a
   covering on their heads called a cowl to show that they ought to live
   with the same innocence and purity as infants who are nourished with
   milk and wear a covering of the same form."

   [647] Ps. cxxx. (cxxxi.) 1, 2.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   Of the Tunics of the Egyptians.

   They wear also linen tunics [648] which scarcely reach to the elbows,
   and for the rest leave their hands bare, that the cutting off of the
   sleeves may suggest that they have cut off all the deeds and works of
   this world, and the garment of linen teach that they are dead to all
   earthly conversation, and that hereby they may hear the Apostle saying
   day by day to them: "Mortify your members which are upon the earth;"
   their very dress also declaring this: "For ye are dead, and your life
   is hid with Christ in God;" and again: "And I live, yet now not I but
   Christ liveth in me. To me indeed the world is crucified, and I to the
   world." [649]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [648] Colobium (kolobion), a tunic with very short sleeves. Cf.
   Dorotheus (Migne, Patrol. Graeca lxxxviii. 1631). To schema ho
   phoroumen kolobion esti, me hechon cheiridia, kai zone dermatine kai
   analabos kai koukoulion.

   [649] Col. iii. 5, 3. Gal. ii. 20; vi. 14. Cf. Sozomen l. c.: "They
   wore their tunics without sleeves in order to teach that the hands
   ought not to be ready to do evil."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   Of their Cords. [650]

   They also wear double scarves [651] woven of woollen yarn which the
   Greeks call analaboi, but which we should name girdles [652] or
   strings, [653] or more properly cords. [654] These falling down over
   the top of the neck and divided on either side of the throat go round
   the folds (of the robe) at the armpits and gather them up on either
   side, so that they can draw up and tuck in close to the body the wide
   folds of the dress, and so with their arms girt they are made active
   and ready for all kinds of work, endeavouring with all their might to
   fulfil the Apostle's charge: "For these hands have ministered not only
   to me but to those also who are with me," "Neither have we eaten any
   man's bread for nought, but with labour and toil working night and day
   that we should not be burdensome to any of you." And: "If any will not
   work neither let him eat." [655]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [650] Rebracchiatoria. The whole passage is somewhat obscure, and the
   various synonyms do not help us much in the elucidation of it.
   'Analaboi is given in Petschenig's text, but anabolai has some ms.
   authority.  'Anaboleus is the word used by Sozomen, who also mentions
   this cord. "Their girdle also and cord, the former girding the loins,
   the latter going round the shoulders and arms, admonish them that they
   ought always to be ready for the service of God and their work."

   [651] Resticulae.

   [652] Succinctoria.

   [653] Redimicula.

   [654] Rebracchiatoria.

   [655] Acts xx. 34; 2 Thess. iii. 8, 10.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   Of their Capes. [656]

   Next they cover their necks and shoulders with a narrow cape, aiming at
   modesty of dress as well as cheapness and economy; and this is called
   in our language as well as theirs mafors; and so they avoid both the
   expense and the display of cloaks and great coats.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [656] The mafors (maphorion or maphorion) is the monkish scapular, or
   working-dress. Cf. the Rule of S. Benedict, c. 55: "Scapulare propter
   opera." In form it was a large, coarse cape, or hood.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   Of the Sheepskin and the Goatskin. [657]

   The last article of their dress is the goat-skin, which is called
   melotes, or pera, [658] and a staff, which they carry in imitation of
   those who foreshadowed the lines of the monastic life in the Old
   Testament, of whom the Apostle says: "They wandered about in sheepskins
   and goatskins, being in want, distressed, afflicted; of whom the world
   was not worthy; wandering in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens,
   and in caves of the earth." [659] And this garment of goatskin
   signifies that having destroyed all wantonness of carnal passions they
   ought to continue in the utmost sobriety of virtue, and that nothing of
   the wantonness or heat of youth, or of their old lightmindedness,
   should remain in their bodies.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [657] The melotes (melotes), a sheepskin garment hanging down on one
   side, was the usual dress of monks. S. Anthony bequeathed his, at his
   death, to S. Athanasius. Ath. Vita Anton, 91.

   [658] Pera can hardly be used here in its ordinary sense of scrip or
   wallet pera. Gazaeus suggests that it may be a transcriber's error for
   poenula, while Ducange would read, "quae melotes appellatur, vel pera,
   et baculus." Mr. Sinker, in the Dictionary of Christian Antiquities
   (Vol. II. p. 1619), suggests that possibly the word may be Egyptian.

   [659] Heb. xi. 37, 38.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Of the Staff of the Egyptians.

   For Elisha, himself one of them, teaches that the same men used to
   carry a staff; as he says to Gehazi, his servant, when sending him to
   raise the woman's son to life: "Take my staff and run and go and place
   it on the lad's face that he may live." [660] And the prophet would
   certainly not have given it to him to take unless he had been in the
   habit of constantly carrying it about in his hand. And the carrying of
   the staff spiritually teaches that they ought never to walk unarmed
   among so many barking dogs of faults and invisible beasts of spiritual
   wickedness (from which the blessed David, in his longing to be free,
   says: "Deliver not, O Lord, to the beasts the soul that trusteth in
   Thee"), [661] but when they attack them they ought to beat them off
   with the sign of the cross and drive them far away; and when they rage
   furiously against them they should annihilate them by the constant
   recollection of the Lord's passion and by following the example of His
   mortified life.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [660] 2 Kings iv. 29.

   [661] Ps. lxxiii. (lxxiv.) 19.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   Of their Shoes.

   But refusing shoes, as forbidden by the command of the gospel, if
   bodily weakness or the morning cold in winter or the scorching heat of
   midday compels them, they merely protect their feet with sandals,
   explaining that by the use of them and the Lord's permission it is
   implied that if, while we are still in this world we cannot be
   completely set free from care and anxiety about the flesh, nor can we
   be altogether released from it, we should at least provide for the
   wants of the body with as little fuss and as slight an entanglement as
   possible: and as for the feet of our soul which ought to be ready for
   our spiritual race and always prepared for preaching the peace of the
   gospel (with which feet we run after the odour of the ointments of
   Christ, and of which David says: "I ran in thirst," and Jeremiah: "But
   I am not troubled, following Thee"), [662] we ought not to suffer them
   to be entangled in the deadly cares of this world, filling our thoughts
   with those things which concern not the supply of the wants of nature,
   but unnecessary and harmful pleasures. And this we shall thus fulfil
   if, as the Apostle advises, we "make not provision for the flesh with
   its lusts." [663] But though lawfully enough they make use of these
   sandals, as permitted by the Lord's command, yet they never suffer them
   to remain on their feet when they approach to celebrate or to receive
   the holy mysteries, as they think that they ought to observe in the
   letter that which was said to Moses and to Joshua, the son of Nun:
   "Loose the latchet of thy shoe: for the place whereon thou standest is
   holy ground." [664]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [662] Ps. lxi. (lxii.) 5; Jer. xvii. 16 (lxx.).

   [663] Rom. xiii. 14.

   [664] Exod. iii. 5; Josh. v. 16.
     __________________________________________________________________

   Chapter X. [665]

   Of the modification in the observances which may be permitted in
   accordance with the character of the climate or the custom of the
   district.

   So much may be said, that we may not appear to have left out any
   article of the dress of the Egyptians. But we need only keep to those
   which the situation of the place and the customs of the district
   permit. For the severity of the winter does not allow us to be
   satisfied with slippers [666] or tunics or a single frock; and the
   covering of tiny hoods or the wearing of a sheepskin would afford a
   subject for derision instead of edifying the spectators. Wherefore we
   hold that we ought to introduce only those things which we have
   described above, and which are adapted to the humble character of our
   profession and the nature of the climate, that the chief thing about
   our dress may be not the novelty of the garb, which might give some
   offence to men of the world, but its honourable simplicity.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [665] This and the following chapter are altogether omitted in the
   edition of Gazaeus.

   [666] Gallica.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   Of the Spiritual Girdle and its Mystical Meaning. [667]

   Clad, therefore, in these vestments, the soldier of Christ should know
   first of all that he is protected by the girdle tied round him, not
   only that he may be ready in mind for all the work and business of the
   monastery, but also that he may always go without being hindered by his
   dress. For he will be proved to be the more ardent in purity of heart
   for spiritual progress and the knowledge of Divine things in proportion
   as he is the more earnest in his zeal for obedience and work. Secondly,
   he should realize that in the actual wearing of the girdle there is no
   small mystery declaring what is demanded of him. For the girding of the
   loins and binding them round with a dead skin signifies that he bears
   about the mortification of those members in which are contained the
   seeds of lust and lasciviousness, always knowing that the command of
   the gospel, which says, "Let your loins be girt about," [668] is
   applied to him by the Apostle's interpretation; to wit, "Mortify your
   members which are upon the earth; fornication, uncleanness, lust, evil
   concupiscence." [669] And so we find in Holy Scripture that only those
   were girt with the girdle in whom the seeds of carnal lust are found to
   be destroyed, and who sing with might and main this utterance of the
   blessed David: "For I am become like a bottle in the frost," [670]
   because when the sinful flesh is destroyed in the inmost parts they can
   distend by the power of the spirit the dead skin of the outward man.
   And therefore he significantly adds "in the frost," because they are
   never satisfied merely with the mortification of the heart, but also
   have the motions of the outward man and the incentives of nature itself
   frozen by the approach of the frost of continence from without, if
   only, as the Apostle says, they no longer allow any reign of sin in
   their mortal body, nor wear a flesh that resists the spirit. [671]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [667] Sacramentum.

   [668] S. Luke xii. 35.

   [669] Col. iii. 5.

   [670] Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 83.

   [671] Cf. Rom. vi. 12; Gal. v. 17. S. Benedict's rule about the dress
   of the monks is as follows: "Let the dress of the brethren be adapted
   to the character of the place or climate in which they live, as more
   clothing is required in cold than in hot countries. Hence we leave this
   to the abbot to determine. However, in temperate climates we are of the
   opinion that it will be enough for each monk to have a hood and a
   frock, a rough one for the winter, and in the summer a simple or old
   one; a scapular also for work; and the cover of the feet, shoes and
   socks. And the monks are not to complain of the colour or size of these
   articles, but to be satisfied with whatever can be found or got
   cheapest in the country where they live." Regula S. Bened. c. lv.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Book II.

    Of the Canonical System of the Nocturnal Prayers and Psalms.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   Of the Canonical System of the Nocturnal Prayers and Psalms.

   Girt, therefore, with this twofold girdle of which we have spoken,
   [672] the soldier of Christ should next learn the system of the
   canonical prayers and Psalms which was long ago arranged by the holy
   fathers in the East. Of their character, however, and of the way in
   which we can pray, as the Apostle directs, "without ceasing," [673] we
   shall treat, as the Lord may enable us, in the proper place, when we
   begin to relate the Conferences of the Elders.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [672] See Book I. c. xi.

   [673] 1 Thess. v. 17.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   Of the difference of the number of Psalms appointed to be sung in all
   the provinces.

   For we have found that many in different countries, according to the
   fancy of their mind (having, indeed, as the Apostle says, "a zeal, for
   God but not according to knowledge" [674] ), have made for themselves
   different rules and arrangements in this matter. For some have
   appointed that each night twenty or thirty Psalms should be said, and
   that these should be prolonged by the music of antiphonal singing [675]
   , and by the addition of some modulations as well. Others have even
   tried to go beyond this number. Some use eighteen. And in this way we
   have found different rules appointed in different places, and the
   system and regulations that we have seen are almost as many in number
   as the monasteries and cells which we have visited. There are some,
   too, to whom it has seemed good that in the day offices of prayer,
   viz., Tierce, Sext, and Nones, [676] the number of Psalms and prayers
   should be made to correspond exactly to the number of the hours at
   which the services are offered up to the Lord. [677] Some have thought
   fit that six Psalms should be assigned to each service of the day. And
   so I think it best to set forth the most ancient system of the fathers
   which is still observed by the servants of God throughout the whole of
   Egypt, so that your new monastery in its untrained infancy in Christ
   [678] may be instructed in the most ancient institutions of the
   earliest fathers.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [674] Rom. x. 2.

   [675] Antiphona. In this passage the word appears to mean the actual
   Psalms sung antiphonally, rather than what is generally meant in later
   writings by the term. Cf. the Rule of Aurelian, "Dicite matutinarios,
   i.e., primo canticum in antiphona, deinde directaneum, judica me
   Deus...in antiphona dicite hymnum, splendor patudae gloriae." And see
   the use of the word later on by Cassian himself, c. vii.

   [676] The third, sixth, and ninth hours were observed as hours of
   prayer from the earliest days. Cf. Tertullian De Oratione, c. 25; Clem.
   Alex. Stromata, VII., c. 7, S: 40.

   [677] I.e., that at Tierce there should be three Psalms, at Sext six,
   and at Nones nine.

   [678] Castor had founded a monastery about the year 420.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   Of the observance of one uniform rule throughout the whole of Egypt,
   and of the election of those who are set over the brethren.

   And so throughout the whole of Egypt and the Thebaid, where monasteries
   are not founded at the fancy of every man who renounces the world, but
   through a succession of fathers and their traditions last even to the
   present day, or are founded so to last, in these we have noticed that a
   prescribed system of prayers is observed in their evening assemblies
   and nocturnal vigils. For no one is allowed to preside over the
   assembly of the brethren, or even over himself, before he has not only
   deprived himself of all his property but has also learnt the fact that
   he is not his own maker and has no authority over his own actions. For
   one who renounces the world, whatever property or riches he may
   possess, must seek the common dwelling of a Coenobium, that he may not
   flatter himself in any way with what he has forsaken or what he has
   brought into the monastery. He must also be obedient to all, so as to
   learn that he must, as the Lord says, [679] become again a little
   child, arrogating nothing to himself on the score of his age and the
   number of the years which he now counts as lost while they were spent
   to no purpose in the world and, as he is only a beginner, and because
   of the novelty of the apprenticeship, which he knows he is serving in
   Christ's service, he should not hesitate to submit himself even to his
   juniors. Further, he is obliged to habituate himself to work and toil,
   so as to prepare with his own hands, in accordance with the Apostle's
   command, [680] daily supply of food, either for his own use or for the
   wants of strangers; and that he may also forget the pride and luxury of
   his past life, and gain by grinding toil humility of heart. And so no
   one is chosen to be set over a congregation of brethren before that he
   who is to be placed in authority has learnt by obedience what he ought
   to enjoin on those who are to submit to him, and has discovered from
   the rules of the Elders what he ought to teach to his juniors. For they
   say that to rule or to be ruled well needs a wise man, and they call it
   the greatest gift and grace of the Holy Spirit, since no one can enjoin
   salutary precepts on those who submit to him but one who has previously
   been trained in all the rules of virtue; nor can any one obey an Elder
   but one who has been filled with the love of God and perfected in the
   virtue of humility. And so we see that there is a variety of rules and
   regulations in use throughout other districts, because we often have
   the audacity to preside over a monastery without even having learnt the
   system of the Elders, and appoint ourselves Abbots before we have, as
   we ought, professed ourselves disciples, and are readier to require the
   observance of our own inventions than to preserve the well-tried
   teaching of our predecessors. But, while we meant to explain the best
   system of prayers to be observed, we have in our eagerness for the
   institutions of the fathers anticipated by a hasty digression the
   account which we were keeping back for its proper place. And so let us
   now return to the subject before us.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [679] Cf. S. Matt. xviii. 3.

   [680] Cf. 1 Thess. iv. 11.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   How throughout the whole of Egypt and the Thebaid the number of Psalms
   is fixed at twelve.

   So, as we said, throughout the whole of Egypt and the Thebaid the
   number of Psalms is fixed at twelve both at Vespers and in the office
   of Nocturns, [681] in such a way that at the close two lessons follow,
   one from the Old and the other from the New Testament. [682] And this
   arrangement, fixed ever so long ago, has continued unbroken to the
   present day throughout so many ages, in all the monasteries of those
   districts, because it is said that it was no appointment of man's
   invention, but was brought down from heaven to the fathers by the
   ministry of an angel.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [681] The rule of Caesarius also prescribes twelve Psalms on every
   Sabbath, Lord's day, and festival (c. 25); so also, according to the
   Benedictine rule, there are twelve Psalms at mattins, besides the fixed
   ones, iii. and xcv. (see c. 9 and 10), as there are still in the Roman
   Breviary on ordinary week-days.

   [682] The custom of having two lessons only appears to have been
   peculiar to Egypt. Most of the early Western rules give three, e.g.,
   those of Caesarius and Benedict, while in the Eastern daily offices
   there are no lections from Holy Scripture.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   How the fact that the number of the Psalms was to be twelve was
   received from the teaching of an angel.

   For in the early days of the faith when only a few, and those the best
   of men, were known by the name of monks, who, as they received that
   mode of life from the Evangelist Mark of blessed memory, the first to
   preside over the Church of Alexandria as Bishop, not only preserved
   those grand characteristics for which we read, in the Acts of the
   Apostles, that the Church and multitude of believers in primitive times
   was famous ("The multitude of believers had one heart and one soul. Nor
   did any of them say that any of the things which he possessed was his
   own: but they had all things common; for as many as were owners of
   lands or houses sold them, and brought the price of the things which
   they sold, and laid it at the feet of the Apostles, and distribution
   was made to every man as he had need"), [683] but they added to these
   characteristics others still more sublime. For withdrawing into more
   secluded spots outside the cities they led a life marked by such
   rigorous abstinence that even to those of another creed the exalted
   character of their life was a standing marvel. For they gave themselves
   up to the reading of Holy Scripture and to prayers and to manual labour
   night and day with such fervour that they had no desire or thoughts of
   food--unless on the second or third day bodily hunger [684] reminded
   them, and they took their meat and drink not so much because they
   wished for it as because it was necessary for life; and even then they
   took it not before sunset, in order that they might connect the hours
   of daylight with the practice of spiritual meditations, and the care of
   the body with the night, and might perform other things much more
   exalted than these. And about these matters, one who has never heard
   anything from one who is at home in such things, may learn from
   ecclesiastical history. [685] At that time, therefore, when the
   perfection of the primitive Church remained unbroken, and was still
   preserved fresh in the memory by their followers and successors, and
   when the fervent faith of the few had not yet grown lukewarm by being
   dispersed among the many, the venerable fathers with watchful care made
   provision for those to come after them, and met together to discuss
   what plan should be adopted for the daily worship throughout the whole
   body of the brethren; that they might hand on to those who should
   succeed them a legacy of piety and peace that was free from all dispute
   and dissension, for they were afraid that in regard of the daily
   services some difference or dispute might arise among those who joined
   together in the same worship, and at some time or other it might send
   forth a poisonous root of error or jealousy or schism among those who
   came after. And when each man in proportion to his own fervour--and
   unmindful of the weakness of others--thought that that should be
   appointed which he judged was quite easy by considering his own faith
   and strength, taking too little account of what would be possible for
   the great mass of the brethren in general (wherein a very large
   proportion of weak ones is sure to be found); and when in different
   degrees they strove, each according to his own powers, to fix an
   enormous number of Psalms, and some were for fifty, others sixty, and
   some, not content with this number, thought that they actually ought to
   go beyond it,--there was such a holy difference of opinion in their
   pious discussion on the rule of their religion that the time for their
   Vesper office came before the sacred question was decided; and, as they
   were going to celebrate their daily rites and prayers, one rose up in
   the midst to chant the Psalms to the Lord. And while they were all
   sitting (as is still the custom in Egypt [686] ), with their minds
   intently fixed on the words of the chanter, when he had sung eleven
   Psalms, separated by prayers introduced between them, verse after verse
   being evenly enunciated, [687] he finished the twelfth with a response
   of Alleluia, [688] and then, by his sudden disappearance from the eyes
   of all, put an end at once to their discussion and their service. [689]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [683] Acts iv. 32-34.

   [684] Petschenig's text has inedia, others inediam.

   [685] Cf. Eusebius, Book II. c. xv., xvi. Sozomen, Book I. c. xii.,
   xiii.

   [686] Cf. below, c. xii.

   [687] Cumque...undecim Psalmos orationum interjectione distinctos
   contiguis versibus parili pronunciatione cantassat.

   [688] So, according to the Benedictine rule, the Psalms at mattins are
   ended with Alleluia (c. ix.): "After these three lessons with their
   responds there shall follow the remaining six Psalms with the
   Alleluia." Cf. c. xi. and xv.

   [689] This story is referred to in the Eighteenth Canon of the Second
   Council of Tours, a.d. 567. "The statutes of the Fathers have
   prescribed that twelve Psalms be said at the Twelfth (i.e. Vespers),
   with Alleluia, which, moreover, they learnt from the showing of an
   angel."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   Of the Custom of having Twelve Prayers.

   Whereupon the venerable assembly of the Fathers understood that by
   Divine Providence a general rule had been fixed for the congregations
   of the brethren through the angel's direction, and so decreed that this
   number should be preserved both in their evening and in their nocturnal
   services; and when they added to these two lessons, one from the Old
   and one from the New Testament, they added them simply as extras and of
   their own appointment, only for those who liked, and who were eager to
   gain by constant study a mind well stored with Holy Scripture. But on
   Saturday and Sunday they read them both from the New Testament; viz.,
   one from the Epistles [690] or the Acts of the Apostles, and one from
   the Gospel. [691] And this also those do whose concern is the reading
   and the recollection of the Scriptures, from Easter to Whitsuntide.
   [692]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [690] Apostolus, the regular name for the book of the Epistles.

   [691] Cf. the note above on c. v.

   [692] Totis Quinquagessimoe diebus; i.e., the whole period of fifty
   days between Easter and Whitsuntide (cf. c. xviii. and the Conferences
   XXI. viii., xi., xx.). This is the usual meaning of the term Pentecost
   in early writers, though it is also used more strictly for the actual
   festival of Whitsunday. Cf. the Twentieth Canon of the Council of
   Nicaea, and see Canon Bright's Notes on the Canons, p. 72, for other
   instances.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   Of their Method of Praying.

   These aforesaid prayers, then, they begin and finish in such a way that
   when the Psalm is ended they do not hurry at once to kneel down, as
   some of us do in this country, who, before the Psalm is fairly ended,
   make haste to prostrate themselves for prayer, in their hurry to finish
   the service [693] as quickly as possible. For though we have chosen to
   exceed the limit which was anciently fixed by our predecessors,
   supplying the number of the remaining Psalms, we are anxious to get to
   the end of the service, thinking of the refreshment of the wearied body
   rather than looking for profit and benefit from the prayer. Among them,
   therefore, it is not so, but before they bend their knees they pray for
   a few moments, and while they are standing up spend the greater part of
   the time in prayer. And so after this, for the briefest space of time,
   they prostrate themselves to the ground, as if but adoring the Divine
   Mercy, and as soon as possible rise up, and again standing erect with
   outspread hands--just as they had been standing to pray before--remain
   with thoughts intent upon their prayers. For when you lie prostrate for
   any length of time upon the ground you are more open to an attack, they
   say, not only of wandering thoughts but also slumber. And would that we
   too did not know the truth of this by experience and daily practice--we
   who when prostrating ourselves on the ground too often wish for this
   attitude to be prolonged for some time, not for the sake of our prayer
   so much as for the sake of resting. But when he who is to "collect" the
   prayer [694] rises from the ground they all start up at once, so that
   no one would venture to bend the knee before he bows down, nor to delay
   when he has risen from the ground, lest it should be thought that he
   has offered his own prayer independently instead of following the
   leader to the close.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [693] Ad celeritatem missae. The word "missa" is here used for the
   breaking up of the congregation after service, as it is again in Book
   III. c. vii., where Cassian says that one who came late for prayer had
   to wait, standing before the door, for the "missa" of the whole
   assembly. Cf. III. c. viii., "post vigiliarum missam," and the rule of
   S. Benedict (c. xvii.): "After the three Psalms are finished let one
   lesson be read, a verse, and Kyrie Eleison: et missae fiant." A full
   account of the various meanings given to the word will be found in the
   Dictionary of Christian Antiquities, Vol. II. p. 1193 sq.

   [694] Colligere orationem. The phrase corresponds to the Greek
   sunaptein, but Ducange gives but few instances of its use in Latin. It
   is found, however, in Canon xxx. of the Council of Agde. "Plebs
   collecta oratione ad vesperam ab Episcopo cum benedictione dimittatur."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Of the Prayer which follows the Psalm.

   That practice too which we have observed in this country--viz., that
   while one sings to the end of the Psalm, all standing up sing together
   with a loud voice, "Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the
   Holy Ghost"--we have never heard anywhere throughout the East, but
   there, while all keep silence when the Psalm is finished, the prayer
   that follows is offered up by the singer. But with this hymn in honour
   of the Trinity only the whole Psalmody [695] is usually ended. [696]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [695] Antiphona. The word must certainly be used here not in the later
   sense of "antiphon," but as descriptive of the whole of the Psalmody of
   the office. Cf. note on c. i.

   [696] In the Eastern offices the Psalter is divided into twenty
   sections called kathismata, each of which is subdivided into three
   staseis, at the close of each of which the Gloria is said, and not, as
   in the West, after every Psalm. This Western custom which Cassian here
   notices seems to have originated in Gaul, and thence spread to other
   churches as, according to Walafrid Strabo, at Rome it was used but
   rarely after the Psalms in the ninth century. See Walafrid Strabo, c.
   xxv. ap. Hittorp. 688. The earliest certain indications of the use of
   the hymn itself are found in the fourth century. See S. Basil De
   Spiritu Sancto, c. xxix.; Theodoret, Eccl. Hist., II. xxiv., Sozomen,
   Eccl. Hist., III. xx. The Greek form is Dhoxa patri kai huhio kai hagio
   pneumati kai nun kai aei kai eis tous aionas ton aionon, amen. The
   additional words in use in the West, "sicut erat in principio," were
   first adopted in the sixth century, being ordered by the Council of
   Vaison, a.d. 529, "after the example of the apostolic see."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   Of the characteristics of the prayer, the fuller treatment of which is
   reserved for the Conferences of the Elders.

   And as the plan of these Institutes leads us to the system of the
   canonical prayers, the fuller treatment of which we will however
   reserve for the Conferences of the Elders (where we shall speak of them
   at greater length when we have begun to tell in their own words of the
   character of their prayers, and how continuous they are), still I think
   it well, as far as the place and my narrative permit, as the occasion
   offers itself, to glance briefly for the present at a few points, so
   that by picturing in the meanwhile the movements of the outer man, and
   by now laying the foundations, as it were, of the prayer, we may
   afterwards, when we come to speak of the inner man, with less labour
   build up the complete edifice of his prayers; providing, above all, for
   this, that if the end of life should overtake us and cut us off from
   finishing the narration which we are anxious (D.V.) fitly to compose,
   we may at least leave in this work the beginnings of so necessary a
   matter to you, to whom everything seems a delay, by reason of the
   fervour of your desire: so that, if a few more years of life are
   granted to us, we may at least mark out for you some outlines of their
   prayers, that those above all who live in monasteries may have some
   information about them; providing also, at the same time, that those
   who perhaps may meet only with this book, and be unable to procure the
   other, may find that they are supplied with some sort of information
   about the nature of their prayers; and as they are instructed about the
   dress and clothing of the outer man, so too they may not be ignorant
   what his behaviour ought to be in offering spiritual sacrifices. Since,
   though these books, which we are now arranging with the Lord's help to
   write, are mainly taken up with what belongs to the outer man and the
   customs of the Coenobia, yet those will rather be concerned with the
   training of the inner man and the perfection of the heart, and the life
   and doctrine of the Anchorites.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   Of the silence and conciseness with which the Collects are offered up
   by the Egyptians.

   When, then, they meet together to celebrate the aforementioned rites,
   which they term synaxes, [697] they are all so perfectly silent that,
   though so large a number of the brethren is assembled together, you
   would not think a single person was present except the one who stands
   up and chants the Psalm in the midst; and especially is this the case
   when the prayer is offered up, [698] for then there is no spitting, no
   clearing of the throat, or noise of coughing, no sleepy yawning with
   open mouths, and gaping, and no groans or sighs are uttered, likely to
   distract those standing near. No voice is heard save that of the priest
   concluding the prayer, except perhaps one that escapes the lips through
   aberration of mind and unconsciously takes the heart by surprise,
   inflamed as it is with an uncontrollable and irrepressible fervour of
   spirit, while that which the glowing mind is unable to keep to itself
   strives through a sort of unutterable groaning to make its escape from
   the inmost chambers of the breast. But if any one infected with
   coldness of mind prays out loud or emits any of those sounds we have
   mentioned, or is overcome by a fit of yawning, they declare that he is
   guilty of a double fault.

   He is blameworthy, first, as regards his own prayer because he offers
   it to God in a careless way; and, secondly, because by his unmannerly
   noise he disturbs the thoughts of another who would otherwise perhaps
   have been able to pray with greater attention. And so their rule is
   that the prayer ought to be brought to an end with a speedy conclusion,
   lest while we are lingering over it some superfluity of spittle or
   phlegm should interfere with the close of our prayer. And, therefore,
   while it is still glowing the prayer is to be snatched as speedily as
   possible out of the jaws of the enemy, who, although he is indeed
   always hostile to us, is yet never more hostile than when he sees that
   we are anxious to offer up prayers to God against his attacks; and by
   exciting wandering thoughts and all sorts of rheums he endeavours to
   distract our minds from attending to our prayers, and by this means
   tries to make it grow cold, though begun with fervour. Wherefore they
   think it best for the prayers to be short and offered up very
   frequently: [699] on the one hand that by so often praying to the Lord
   we may be able to cleave to Him continually; on the other, that when
   the devil is lying in wait for us, we may by their terse brevity avoid
   the darts with which he endeavours to wound us especially when we are
   saying our prayers.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [697] Synaxis (sunaxis) a general name for the course of the
   ecclesiastical offices.

   [698] Consummatur.

   [699] Cf. Augustine, Ep. cxxx., S: 20 (Vol. II. 389): "Dicuntur fratres
   in AEgypto crebras quidem habere orationes, sed eas tamen brevissimas,
   et raptim quodammodo jaculatas, ne illa vigilantes erecta, quae oranti
   plurimum necessaria est, per productiores moras evanescat atque
   hebetetur intentio;" and Hooker, Eccl. Polity, Book V. c. xxxiii.: "The
   brethren in Egypt (saith S. Augustine) are reported to have many
   prayers, but every of them very short, as if they were darts thrown out
   with a kind of sudden quickness, lest that vigilant and erect attention
   of mind which in prayer is very necessary should be wasted or dulled
   through continuance, if their prayers were few and long....Those
   prayers whereunto devout minds have added a piercing kind of brevity,
   as well in that respect which we have already mentioned, as also
   thereby the better to express that quick and speedy expedition
   wherewith ardent affections, the very wings of prayer, are delighted to
   present our suits in heaven, even sooner than our tongues can devise to
   utter them," etc.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   Of the system according to which the Psalms are said among the
   Egyptians.

   And, therefore, they do not even attempt to finish the Psalms, which
   they sing in the service, by an unbroken and continuous recitation. But
   they repeat them separately and bit by bit, divided into two or three
   sections, according to the number of verses, with prayers in between.
   [700] For they do not care about the quantity of verses, but about the
   intelligence of the mind; aiming with all their might at this: "I will
   sing with the spirit: I will sing also with the understanding." [701]
   And so they consider it better for ten verses to be sung with
   understanding and thought [702] than for a whole Psalm to be poured
   forth with a bewildered mind. And this is sometimes caused by the hurry
   of the speaker, when, thinking of the character and number of the
   remaining Psalms to be sung, he takes no pains to make the meaning
   clear to his hearers, but hastens on to get to the end of the service.
   Lastly, if any of the younger monks, either through fervour of spirit
   or because he has not yet been properly taught, goes beyond the proper
   limit of what is to be sung, the one who is singing the Psalm is
   stopped by the senior clapping his hands where he sits in his stall,
   and making them all rise for prayer. Thus they take every possible care
   that no weariness may creep in among them as they sit through the
   length of the Psalms, as thereby not only would the singer himself lose
   the fruits of understanding, but also loss would be incurred by those
   whom he made to feel the service a weariness by going on so long. They
   also observe this with the greatest care; viz., that no Psalm should be
   said with the response of Alleluia except those which are marked with
   the inscription of Alleluia in their title. [703] But the aforesaid
   number of twelve Psalms they divide in such a way that, if there are
   two brethren they each sing six; if there are three, then four; and if
   four, three each. A smaller number than this they never sing in the
   congregation, and accordingly, however large a congregation is
   assembled, not more than four brethren sing in the service. [704]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [700] This plan of dividing some of the longer Psalms (as is still done
   with the 119th in the English Psalter) was adopted sometimes in the
   West also. Cf. the Rule of S. Benedict, c. xviii., and the Third
   Council of Narbonne (a.d. 589), Canon 2: "Ut in psallendis ordinibus
   per quemque Psalmum Gloria dicatur Omnipotenti Deo, per majores vero
   Psalmos, prout fuerint prolixius, pausationes fiant, et per quamque
   pausationem Gloria Trinitatis Domino decantetur." Further, the rule
   that prayers should be intermingled with Psalms which was perhaps
   introduced into the West by Cassian, was widely adopted both in Gaul
   and in Spain.

   [701] 1 Cor. xiv. 15.

   [702] Cum rationabili assignatione.

   [703] Viz.: Ps. civ., cv., cvi., cx., cxi., cxii., cxiii., cxiv., cxv.,
   cxvi., cxvii., cxviii., cxxxiv., cxxxv., cxlv., cxlvi., cxlvii.,
   cxlviii., cxlix., cl., in the LXX. and the Latin.

   [704] This arrangement by which the Psalm was sung by a single voice,
   while the rest of the congregation listened, is that which was
   afterwards known by the name of Tractus.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   Of the reason why while one sings the Psalms the rest sit down during
   the service; and of the zeal with which they afterwards prolong their
   vigils in their cells till daybreak.

   This canonical system of twelve Psalms, of which we have spoken, they
   render easier by such bodily rest that when, after their custom, they
   celebrate these services, they all, except the one who stands up in the
   midst to recite the Psalms, sit in very low stalls and follow the voice
   of the singer with the utmost attention of heart. For they are so worn
   out with fasting and working all day and night that, unless they were
   helped by some such indulgence, they could not possibly get through
   this number standing up. For they allow no time to pass idly without
   the performance of some work, because not only do they strive with all
   earnestness to do with their hands those things which can be done in
   daylight, but also with anxious minds they examine into those sorts of
   work which not even the darkness of night can put a stop to, as they
   hold that they will gain a far deeper insight into subjects of
   spiritual contemplation with purity of heart, the more earnestly that
   they devote themselves to work and labour. And therefore they consider
   that a moderate allowance of canonical prayers was divinely arranged in
   order that for those who are very ardent in faith room might be left in
   which their never-tiring flow of virtue might spend itself, and
   notwithstanding no loathing arise in their wearied and weak bodies from
   too large a quantity. And so, when the offices of the canonical prayers
   have been duly finished, every one returns to his own cell (which he
   inhabits alone, or is allowed to share with only one other whom
   partnership in work or training in discipleship and learning has joined
   with him, or perhaps similarity of character has made his companion),
   and again they offer with greater earnestness the same service of
   prayer, as their special private sacrifice, as it were; nor do any of
   them give themselves up any further to rest and sleep till when the
   brightness of day comes on the labours of the day succeed the labours
   and meditations of the night.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   The reason why they are not allowed to go to sleep after the night
   service. [705]

   And these labours they keep up for two reasons, besides this
   consideration,--that they believe that when they are diligently
   exerting themselves they are offering to God a sacrifice of the fruit
   of their hands. And, if we are aiming at perfection; we also ought to
   observe this with the same diligence. First, lest our envious
   adversary, jealous of our purity against which he is always plotting,
   and ceaselessly hostile to us, should by some illusion in a dream
   pollute the purity which has been gained by the Psalms and prayers of
   the night: for after that satisfaction which we have offered for our
   negligence and ignorance, and the absolution implored with profuse
   sighs in our confession, he anxiously tries, if he finds some time
   given to repose, to defile us; then above all endeavouring to overthrow
   and weaken our trust in God when he sees by the purity of our prayers
   that we are making most fervent efforts towards God: so that sometimes,
   when he has been unable to injure some the whole night long, he does
   his utmost to disgrace them in that short hour. Secondly, because, even
   if no such dreaded illusion of the devil arises, even a pure sleep in
   the interval produces laziness in the case of the monk who ought soon
   to wake up; and, bringing on a sluggish torpor in the mind, it dulls
   his vigour throughout the whole day, and deadens that keenness of
   perception and exhausts that energy [706] of heart which would be
   capable of keeping us all day long more watchful against all the snares
   of the enemy and more robust. Wherefore to the Canonical Vigils there
   are added these private watchings, and they submit to them with the
   greater care, both in order that the purity which has been gained by
   Psalms and prayers may not be lost, and also that a more intense
   carefulness to guard us diligently through the day may be secured
   beforehand by the meditation of the night.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [705] Missae.  The use of this word for the offices of the Canonical
   Hours, though not common, is found also in the Thirtieth Canon of the
   Council of Agde, a.d. 506. "At the end of the morning and evening
   missoe, after the hymns, let the little chapters from the Psalms be
   said."

   [706] Pinguetudo.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   Of the way in which they devote themselves in their cells equally to
   manual labour and to prayer.

   And therefore they supplement their prayer by the addition of labour,
   lest slumber might steal upon them as idlers. For as they scarcely
   enjoy any time of leisure, so there is no limit put to their spiritual
   meditations. For practising equally the virtues of the body and of the
   soul, they balance what is due to the outer by what is profitable to
   the inner man; [707] steadying the slippery motions of the heart and
   the shifting fluctuations of the thoughts by the weight of labour, like
   some strong and immoveable anchor, by which the changeableness and
   wanderings of the heart, fastened within the barriers of the cell, may
   be shut up in some perfectly secure harbour, and so, intent only on
   spiritual meditation and watchfulness over the thoughts, may not only
   forbid the watchful mind to give a hasty consent to any evil
   suggestions, but may also keep it safe from any unnecessary and idle
   thoughts: so that it is not easy to say which depends on the other--I
   mean, whether they practise their incessant manual labour for the sake
   of spiritual meditation, or whether it is for the sake of their
   continuous labours that they acquire such remarkable spiritual
   proficiency and light of knowledge.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [707] Exterioris hominis stipendia cum emolumentis interioris
   exoequant.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   Of the discreet rule by which every one must retire to his cell after
   the close of the prayers; and [708] of the rebuke to which any one who
   does otherwise is subject.

   And so, when the Psalms are finished, and the daily assembly, as we
   said above, is broken up, none of them dares to loiter ever so little
   or to gossip with another: nor does he presume even to leave his cell
   throughout the whole day, or to forsake the work which he is wont to
   carry on in it, except when they happen to be called out for the
   performance of some necessary duty, which they fulfil by going out of
   doors so that there may not be any chattering at all among them. But
   every one does the work assigned to him in such a way that, by
   repeating by heart some Psalm or passage of Scripture, he gives no
   opportunity or time for dangerous schemes or evil designs, or even for
   idle talk, as both mouth and heart are incessantly taken up with
   spiritual meditations. For they are most particular in observing this
   rule, that none of them, and especially of the younger ones, may be
   caught stopping even for a moment or going anywhere together with
   another, or holding his hands in his. But, if they discover any who in
   defiance of the discipline of this rule have perpetrated any of these
   forbidden things, they pronounce them guilty of no slight fault, as
   contumacious and disobedient to the rules; nor are they free from
   suspicion of plotting and nefarious designs. And, unless they expiate
   their fault by public penance when all the brethren are gathered
   together, none of them is allowed to be present at the prayers of the
   brethren.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [708] Post orationum missam. See note on c. vii.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   How no one is allowed to pray with one who has been suspended from
   prayer.

   Further, if one of them has been suspended from prayer for some fault
   which he has committed, no one has any liberty of praying with him
   before he performs his penance on the ground, [709] and reconciliation
   and pardon for his offence has been publicly granted to him by the
   Abbot before all the brethren. For by a plan of this kind they separate
   and cut themselves off from fellowship with him in prayer for this
   reason--because they believe that one who is suspended from prayer is,
   as the Apostle says, "delivered unto Satan:" [710] and if any one,
   moved by an ill-considered affection, dares to hold communion with him
   in prayer before he has been received by the elder, he makes himself
   partaker of his damnation, and delivers himself up of his own free will
   to Satan, to whom the other had been consigned for the correction of
   his guilt. And in this he falls into a more grievous offence because,
   by uniting with him in fellowship either in talk or in prayer, he gives
   him grounds for still greater arrogance, and only encourages and makes
   worse the obstinacy of the offender. For, by giving him a consolation
   that is only hurtful, he will make his heart still harder, and not let
   him humble himself for the fault for which he was excommunicated; and
   through this he will make him hold the Elder's rebuke as of no
   consequence, and harbour deceitful thoughts about satisfaction and
   absolution.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [709] Cf. III. vii., and the description of this penance in IV. xvi.

   [710] 1 Cor. v. 5; 1 Tim. i. 20.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   How he who rouses them for prayer ought to call them at the usual time.

   But he who has been entrusted with the office of summoning the
   religious assembly and with the care of the service should not presume
   to rouse the brethren for their daily vigils irregularly, as he
   pleases, or as he may wake up in the night, or as the accident of his
   own sleep or sleeplessness may incline him. But, although daily habit
   may constrain him to wake at the usual hour, yet by often and anxiously
   ascertaining by the course of the stars the right hour for service, he
   should summon them to the office of prayer, lest he be found careless
   in one of two ways: either if, overcome with sleep, he lets the proper
   hour of the night go by, or if, wanting to go to bed and impatient for
   his sleep, he anticipates it, and so may be thought to have secured is
   own repose instead of attending to the spiritual office and the rest of
   all the others. [711]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [711] The rule of S. Benedict is similarly careful that the brethren
   may not oversleep themselves. See c. xi. and xlvii.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   How they do not kneel from the evening of Saturday till the evening of
   Sunday.

   This, too, we ought to know,--that from the evening of Saturday which
   precedes the Sunday, [712] up to the following evening, among the
   Egyptians they never kneel, nor from Easter to Whitsuntide; [713] nor
   do they at these times observe a rule of fasting, [714] the reason for
   which shall be explained in its proper place in the Conferences of the
   Elders, [715] if the Lord permits. At present we only propose to run
   through the causes very briefly, lest our book exceed its due limits
   and prove tiresome or burdensome to the reader.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [712] Quoe lucescit inm die dominicum. The phrase is borrowed by
   Cassian from the Latin of S. Matt. xxviii. 1.

   [713] Totis Quinquagesimoe diebus. See above on c. vi.

   [714] That this was the rule of the primitive Church is shown by
   Tertullian, De Corona Militis, c. iii. "We count fasting or kneeling in
   worship on the Lord's day to be unlawful. We rejoice in the same
   privilege, also, from Easter to Whitsunday." And even earlier, in a
   fragment of Irenaeus, there is a mention of the fact that Christians
   abstained from kneeling on Sunday in token of the resurrection. For
   later testimonies see Ambrose, Ep. 119, ad Januarium. Epiphanius, on
   Heresies, Book III. (Vol. III. p. 583, ed. Dindorf). Jerome, Dial: Adv.
   Lucif. c. iv., and the Twentieth Canon of the Council of Nicaea, with
   Canon Bright's notes (Notes on the Canons of the First Four General
   Councils, p. 72).

   [715] Cf. the Conferences XXI. xi.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Book III.

    Of the Canonical System of the Daily Prayers and Psalms.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   Of the services of the third, sixth, and ninth hours, which are
   observed in the regions of Syria.

   The nocturnal system of prayers and Psalms as observed throughout Egypt
   has been, I think, by God's help, explained so far as our slender
   ability was able; and now we must speak of the services of Tierce,
   Sext, and None, according to the rule of the monasteries of Palestine
   and Mesopotamia, [716] as we said in the Preface, and must moderate by
   the customs of these the perfection and inimitable rigour of the
   discipline of the Egyptians.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [716] According to S. Jerome, Hilarion was the first to introduce the
   monastic life into Palestine (Vita Hilar.). His work was carried on by
   his companion and pupil Hesycas and Epiphanius, afterwards Bishop of
   Salamis in Cyprus. In Asia Minor S. Basil was the greater organizer of
   monasticism, though, as he tells us, there were already many monks, not
   only in Egypt but also in Palestine, Coelosyria, and Mesopotamia (Ep.
   ccxxiii.). See also on the early monks of Palestine and the East,
   Sozomen, H. E., Book VI., cc. xxxii.-xxxv.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   How among the Egyptians they apply themselves all day long to prayer
   and Psalm continually, with the addition of work, without distinction
   of hours.

   For among them (viz., the Egyptians) these offices which we are taught
   to render to the Lord at separate hours and at intervals of time, with
   a reminder from the convener, are celebrated continuously throughout
   the whole day, with the addition of work, and that of their own free
   will. For manual labour is incessantly practised by them in their cells
   in such a way that meditation on the Psalms and the rest of the
   Scriptures is never entirely omitted. And as with it at every moment
   they mingle suffrages and prayers, they spend the whole day in those
   offices which we celebrate at fixed times. Wherefore, except Vespers
   and Nocturns, there are no public services among them in the day except
   on Saturday and Sunday, when they meet together at the third hour for
   the purpose of Holy Communion. [717] For that which is continuously
   offered is more than what is rendered at intervals of time; and more
   acceptable as a free gift than the duties which are performed by the
   compulsion of a rule: as David for this rejoices somewhat exultingly
   when he says, "Freely will I sacrifice unto Thee;" and, "Let the free
   will offerings of my mouth be pleasing to Thee, O Lord." [718]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [717] The Saturday Communion (in addition to that of Wednesday and
   Friday, as well as Sunday) is also mentioned by S. Basil (Ep. xciii.),
   and cf. the Forty-ninth Canon of the Council of Laodicaea (circa 360
   a.d.): "During Lent the bread shall not be offered except on Saturday
   and Sunday." In the West there is no trace of a special Saturday
   celebration of the Holy Communion. The third hour was the ordinary time
   for Holy Communion, as may be seen from the decree (falsely) ascribed
   to Pope Telesphorus (a.d. 127-138), in the Liber Pontificalis: "Ut
   nullus ante horam tertiam sacrificium offere praesumeret," and many
   other testimonies.

   [718] Ps. liii. (liv.) 8; cxviii. (cxix.) 108.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   How throughout all the East the services of Tierce, Sext, and None are
   ended with only three Psalms and prayers each; and the reason why these
   spiritual offices are assigned more particularly to those hours.

   And so in the monasteries of Palestine and Mesopotamia and all the East
   the services of the above-mentioned hours are ended each day with three
   Psalms apiece, so that constant prayers may be offered to God at the
   appointed times, and yet, the spiritual duties being completed with due
   moderation, the necessary offices of work may not be in any way
   interfered with: for at these three seasons we know that Daniel the
   prophet also poured forth his prayers to God day by day in his chamber
   with the windows open. [719] Nor is it without good reasons that these
   times are more particularly assigned to religious offices, since at
   them what completed the promises and summed up our salvation was
   fulfilled. For we can show that at the third hour the Holy Spirit, who
   had been of old promised by the prophets, descended in the first
   instance on the Apostles assembled together for prayer. For when in
   their astonishment at the speaking with tongues, which proceeded from
   them through the outpouring of the Holy Ghost upon them, the
   unbelieving people of the Jews mocked and said that they were full of
   new wine, then Peter, standing up in the midst of them, said: "Men of
   Israel, and all ye who dwell at Jerusalem, let this be known unto you,
   and consider my words. For these men are not, as ye imagine, drunk,
   since it is the third hour of the day; but this is that which was
   spoken by the prophet Joel: and it shall come to pass in the last days,
   saith the Lord, I will pour out of my Spirit upon all flesh, and your
   sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see
   visions and your old men shall dream dreams. And indeed upon my
   servants and my handmaids in those days I will pour out of my Spirit,
   and they shall prophesy." [720] And all of this was fulfilled at the
   third hour, when the Holy Spirit, announced before by the prophets,
   came at that hour and abode upon the Apostles. But at the sixth hour
   the spotless Sacrifice, our Lord and Saviour, was offered up to the
   Father, and, ascending the cross for the salvation of the whole world,
   made atonement for the sins of mankind, and, despoiling principalities
   and powers, led them away openly; and all of us who were liable to
   death and bound by the debt of the handwriting that could not be paid,
   He freed, by taking it away out of the midst and affixing it to His
   cross for a trophy. [721] At the same hour, too, to Peter, in an
   ecstasy of mind, there was divinely revealed both the calling of the
   Gentiles by the letting down of the Gospel vessel from heaven, and also
   the cleansing of all the living creatures contained in it, when a voice
   came to him and said to him: "Rise, Peter; kill and eat;" [722] which
   vessel, let down from heaven by the four corners, is plainly seen to
   signify nothing else than the Gospel. For although, as it is divided by
   the fourfold narrative of the Evangelists, it seems to have "four
   corners" (or beginnings), yet the body of the Gospel is but one;
   embracing, as it does, the birth as well as the Godhead, and the
   miracles as well as the passion of one and the same Christ.
   Excellently, too, it says not "of linen" but "as if of linen." For
   linen signifies death. Since, then, our Lord's death and passion were
   not undergone by the law of human nature, but of His own free will, it
   says "as if of linen." For when dead according to the flesh He was not
   dead according to the spirit, because "His soul was not left in hell,
   neither did His flesh see corruption." [723] And again He says: "No man
   taketh My life from Me but I lay it down of Myself. I have power to lay
   it down, and I have power to take it again." [724] And so in this
   vessel of the Gospels let down from heaven, that is written by the Holy
   Ghost, all the nations which were formerly outside the observance of
   the law and reckoned as unclean now flow together through belief in the
   faith that they may to their salvation be turned away from the worship
   of idols and be serviceable for health-giving food, and are brought to
   Peter and cleansed by the voice of the Lord. But at the ninth hour,
   penetrating to hades, He there by the brightness of His splendour
   extinguished the indescribable darkness of hell, and, bursting its
   brazen gates and breaking the iron bars brought away with Him to the
   skies the captive band of saints which was there shut up and detained
   in the darkness of inexorable hell, [725] and, by taking away the fiery
   sword, restored to paradise its original inhabitants by his pious
   confession. At the same hour, too, Cornelius, the centurion, continuing
   with his customary devotion in his prayers, is made aware through the
   converse of the angel with him that his prayers and alms are remembered
   before the Lord, and at the ninth hour the mystery [726] of the calling
   of the Gentiles is clearly shown to him, which had been revealed to
   Peter in his ecstasy of mind at the sixth hour. In another passage,
   too, in the Acts of the Apostles, we are told as follows about the same
   time: "But Peter and John went up into the temple at the hour of
   prayer, the ninth hour." [727] And by these notices it is clearly
   proved that these hours were not without good reason consecrated with
   religious services by holy and apostolic men, and ought to be observed
   in like manner by us, who, unless we are compelled, as it were, by some
   rule to discharge these pious offices at least at stated times, either
   through sloth or through forgetfulness, or being absorbed in business,
   spend the whole day without engaging in prayer. But concerning the
   evening sacrifices what is to be said, since even in the Old Testament
   these are ordered to be offered continually by the law of Moses? For
   that the morning whole-burnt offerings and evening sacrifices were
   offered every day continually in the temple, although with figurative
   offerings, we can show from that which is sung by David: "Let my prayer
   be set forth in Thy sight as the incense, and let the lifting up of my
   hands be an evening sacrifice," [728] in which place we can understand
   it in a still higher sense of that true evening sacrifice which was
   given by the Lord our Saviour in the evening to the Apostles at the
   Supper, when He instituted the holy mysteries of the Church, and of
   that evening sacrifice which He Himself, on the following day, in the
   end of the ages, offered up to the Father by the lifting up of His
   hands for the salvation of the whole world; which spreading forth of
   His hands on the Cross is quite correctly called a "lifting up." For
   when we were all lying in hades He raised us to heaven, according to
   the word of His own promise when He says: "When I am lifted up from the
   earth, I will draw all men unto Me." [729] But concerning Mattins, that
   also teaches us which it is customary every day to sing at it: "O God,
   my God, to Thee do I watch at break of day;" and "I will meditate on
   Thee in the morning;" and "I prevented the dawning of the day and
   cried;" and again, "Mine eyes to Thee have prevented the morning, that
   I might meditate on Thy words." [730] At these hours too that
   householder in the Gospel hired labourers into his vineyard. For thus
   also is he described as having hired them in the early morning, which
   time denotes the Mattin office; then at the third hour; then at the
   sixth; after this, at the ninth; and last of all, at the eleventh,
   [731] by which the hour of the lamps [732] is denoted. [733]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [719] Cf. Daniel vi. 10.

   [720] Acts ii. 14-18.

   [721] The whole passage is alluding to Col. ii. 14, 15, which runs as
   follows in the Vulgate: "Delens quad adversum nos erat chirograffum
   decretis, quod erat contrarium nobis, et ipse tulit de medio, affigens
   illud cruci, expolians principatus et potestates traduxit confidenter,
   palam triumphans illos in semet ipso."

   [722] Acts x. 11 sq.

   [723] Ps. xv. (xvi.) 10.

   [724] S. John x. 18.

   [725] The belief that by the descent into hell our Lord released some
   who were there detained was almost, if not quite, universal in the
   early ages, and is recognized by a large number of the Fathers. It is
   alluded to by so early a writer as Ignatius (Ad Magn. ix.), and appears
   in Irenaeus (IV. c. xlii.) as a tradition of those who had seen the
   Apostles. See also Tertullian, De Anima, c. lv., and a host of later
   writers.

   [726] Sacramentum. This word is used by Cassian, as by other Latin
   writers, as the regular equivalent of the Greek, musterion, and as such
   is applied to sacred truths equally with sacred rites. See Book V.
   xxxiv.: "Sacramenta scriptorum;" Conferences IX. xxxiv.: "Sacramentum
   resurrectionis Dominicae." And again and again the word is used of the
   mystery of the Incarnation in the books against Nestorius.

   [727] Acts iii. 1.

   [728] Ps. cxl. (cxli.) 2.

   [729] S. John xii. 32.

   [730] Pss. lxii. (lxiii.) 2, 7; cxviii. (cxix.) 147, 8. In both East
   and West Ps. lxii. (lxiii.) has from very early times been used as a
   morning hymn. See the Apost. Constitutions II. lix., VIII. xxxvii. In
   the East it is still one of the fixed Psalms at Lauds, as it is also in
   the West, according to the Roman use. But in Cassian's time it had
   apparently been transferred from Lauds to Prime. See below, c. vi.

   [731] S. Matt. xx. 1-6.

   [732] Lucernaris hora; i e., the hour for Vespers, which is sometimes
   called lucernarium or lucernalis. S. Jerome in Ps. cxix. S. Augustine,
   Sermo i ad fratres in er.

   [733] It will be noticed that in this chapter Cassian alludes to five
   offices: (1) A morning office; (2) the third hour; (3) the sixth; (4)
   the ninth; and (5) Vespers; and gives the grounds for their observance.
   Similar grounds are given by Cyprian, De Orat. Dominica sub fine: "For
   upon the disciples, at the third hour, the Holy Spirit descended, who
   fulfilled the grace of the Lord's promise. Moreover at the sixth hour,
   Peter, going up to the housetop, was instructed as well by the sign as
   by the word of God, admonishing him to receive all to the grace of
   salvation, whereas he was previously doubtful of the receiving of the
   Gentiles to baptism. And from the sixth hour to the ninth the Lord,
   being crucified, washed away our sins by His blood; and that He might
   redeem and quicken us, He then accomplished His victory by His passion.
   But for us, beloved brethren besides the hours of prayer observed of
   old, both the times and the sacraments have now increased in number.
   For we must also pray in the morning, that the Lord's resurrection may
   be celebrated by morning prayer....Also at the sun-setting and decline
   of day we must pray again. For since Christ is the true Sun and the
   true Day, as the worldly sun and day depart, when we pray and ask that
   light may return to us again, we pray for the advent of Christ, which
   shall give us the grace of everlasting light." Cf. also S. Basil, The
   Greater Monastic Rules, Q. xxxvii., where the same subject is
   discussed, and Apost. Const. Book VIII. c. xxxiv. In later times the
   Seven Canonical Hours were all connected with the events of our Lord's
   Passion, and supposed to commemorate His sufferings, as the following
   stanzas show:-- At Mattins bound, at Prime reviled, Condemned to death
   at Tierce, Nailed to the Cross at Sext, at Nones His blessed side they
   pierce. They take Him down at Vesper-tide, In grave at Compline lay;
   Who thenceforth bids His Church observe Her sevenfold hours alway.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   How the Mattin office was not appointed by an ancient tradition but was
   started in our own day for a definite reason.

   But you must know that this Mattins, which is now very generally
   observed in Western countries, was appointed as a canonical office in
   our own day, and also in our own monastery, where our Lord Jesus Christ
   was born of a Virgin and deigned to submit to growth in infancy as man,
   and where by His Grace He supported our own infancy, still tender in
   religion, and, as it were, fed with milk. [734] For up till that time
   we find that when this office of Mattins (which is generally celebrated
   after a short interval after the Psalms and prayers of Nocturns in the
   monasteries of Gaul) was finished, together with the daily vigils, the
   remaining hours were assigned by our Elders to bodily refreshment. But
   when some rather carelessly abused this indulgence and prolonged their
   time for sleep too long, as they were not obliged by the requirements
   of any service to leave their cells or rise from their beds till the
   third hour; and when, as well as losing their labour, they were drowsy
   from excess of sleep in the daytime, when they ought to have been
   applying themselves to some duties, (especially on those days when an
   unusually oppressive weariness was caused by their keeping watch from
   the evening till the approach of morning), a complaint was brought to
   the Elders by some of the brethren who were ardent in spirit and in no
   slight measure disturbed by this carelessness, and it was determined by
   them after long discussion and anxious consideration that up till
   sunrise, when they could without harm be ready to read or to undertake
   manual labour, time for rest should be given to their wearied bodies,
   and after this they should all be summoned to the observance of this
   service and should rise from their beds, and by reciting three Psalms
   and prayers (after the order anciently fixed for the observance of
   Tierce and Sext, to signify the confession of the Trinity) [735] should
   at the same time by an uniform arrangement put an end to their sleep
   and make a beginning to their work. And this form, although it may seem
   to have arisen out of an accident and to have been appointed within
   recent memory for the reason given above, yet it clearly makes up
   according to the letter that number which the blessed David indicates
   (although it can be taken spiritually): "Seven times a day do I praise
   Thee because of Thy righteous judgments." [736] For by the addition of
   this service we certainly hold these spiritual assemblies seven times a
   day, and are shown to sing praises to God seven times in it. [737]
   Lastly, though this same form, starting from the East, has most
   beneficially spread to these parts, yet still in some long-established
   monasteries in the East, which will not brook the slightest violation
   of the old rules of the Fathers, it seems never to have been
   introduced. [738]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [734] The allusion is to the monastery at Bethlehem, where Cassian had
   himself been educated. See the introduction.

   [735] Trinae confessionis exemplo. The words appear to mean that the
   three Psalms used at these offices are significant of the Persons of
   the Holy Trinity. So somewhat similarly Cyprian (on the Lord's Prayer)
   speaks of the third, sixth, and ninth hours being observed as a
   sacrament of the Trinity.

   [736] Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 164.

   [737] This second "Mattins" of which Cassian has been speaking is the
   service which the later Church called Prime, Cassian's first Mattins
   corresponding to Lauds, and his Nocturns, or "Vigiliae," to Mattins.
   Thus the "seven hours" are made up as follows: (1) Nocturns or Mattins,
   (2) Lauds, (3) Prime, (4) Tierce, (5) Sext, (6 None, (7) Vespers.
   Compline, it will be noticed, had not yet been introduced. This appears
   for the first time in the Rule of S. Benedict (c. xvi.), a century
   later. By its introduction the "day hours" were made up to seven
   Nocturns belonging strictly to the night, and answering to the
   Psalmist's words, "At midnight will I rise to give thanks to Thee." Ps.
   cxix. 62.

   [738] The introduction of Prime appears to have been very gradual even
   in the West, for, though an office for it is prescribed in S. Benedict
   (c. xix.), yet there is no mention of it in the Rule of Caesarius of
   Arles for monks nor in that of Isidore of Seville, and it is omitted by
   Cassiodorus in his enumeration of the seven hours observed by the
   monks. After Benedict the next to mention it appears to be Aurelius, a
   successor of Caesarius at Arles, and by degrees it made its way to
   universal adoption in the West. In the Greek Church the office for it
   is said continuously with Lauds (to orthron).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   How they ought not to go back to bed again after the Mattin prayers.

   But some in this province, not knowing the reason why this office was
   appointed and introduced, go back again to bed after their Mattin
   prayers are finished, and in spite of it fall into that very habit to
   check which our Elders instituted this service. For they are eager to
   finish it at that hour, that an opportunity maybe given, to those who
   are inclined to be indifferent and not careful enough, to go back to
   bed again, which most certainly ought not to be done (as we showed more
   fully in the previous book when describing the service of the
   Egyptians), [739] for fear lest the force of our natural passions
   should be aroused and stain that purity of ours which was gained by
   humble confession and prayers before the dawn, or some illusion of the
   enemy pollute us, or even the repose of a pure and natural sleep
   interfere with the fervour of our spirit and make us lazy and slothful
   throughout the whole day, as we are chilled by the sluggishness caused
   by sleep. And to avoid this the Egyptians, and especially as they are
   in the habit of rising at fixed times even before the cock-crow, when
   the canonical office [740] has been celebrated, afterwards prolong
   their vigils even to daylight, that the morning light when it comes on
   them may find them established in fervour of spirit, and keep them
   still more careful and fervent all through the day, as it has found
   them prepared for the conflict and strengthened against their daily
   struggle with the devil by the practice of nocturnal vigils and
   spiritual meditation.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [739] Book II. c. xiii.

   [740] Missa.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   How no change was made by the Elders in the ancient system of Psalms
   when the Mattin office was instituted.

   But this too we ought to know, viz., that no change was made in the
   ancient arrangement of Psalms by our Elders who decided that this
   Mattin service should be added; [741] but that office [742] was always
   celebrated in their nocturnal assemblies according to the same order as
   it had been before. For the hymns which in this country they used at
   the Mattin service at the close of the nocturnal vigils, which they are
   accustomed to finish after the cock-crowing and before dawn, these they
   still sing in like manner; viz., Ps. 148, beginning "O praise the Lord
   from heaven," and the rest which follow; but the 50th Psalm and the
   62nd, and the 89th have, we know, been assigned to this new service.
   Lastly, throughout Italy at this day, when the Mattin hymns are ended,
   the 50th Psalm is sung in all the churches, which I have no doubt can
   only have been derived from this source.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [741] I.e., Prime. Some confusion is likely to be caused by the fact
   that Cassian speaks of both "Lauds" and "Prime" by the same title of
   Mattins. Immediately below, where he speaks of the "Mattin service at
   the close of the nocturnal vigils" he is referring to Lauds, which
   always followed immediately (or after a very short interval) after
   Nocturns, or Mattins. At this service Pss. cxlviii.-cl. have always
   been sung, indeed, they form the characteristic feature which gives the
   service its name of "Lauds" (hoi ainoi). Of the other three Psalms, l.
   (li.), lxii. (lxiii.), and lxxxix. (xc.), which Cassian says had been
   transferred from Lauds to the newly instituted service of Prime, lxii.
   has been already spoken of as a morning hymn of the early Church (see
   the notes on c. iii.), and we learn from S. Basil that in his day Ps.
   l. (ho tes exomologeseos psalmos) was regularly sung after Mattins when
   the day began to break (Ep. ccvii. ad clericos Neo-Caes.), and it is
   still a Lauds Psalm in both East and West. lxxxix. (xc.) is now one of
   the fixed Psalms at Prime in the East, but in the West it is, according
   to the Roman rule, sung at Lauds on Thursdays only. Thus it would
   appear that the transfer of these three Psalms from Lauds to Prime, of
   which Cassian speaks, never obtained widely, but that the older
   arrangement, whereby, at any rate, l. and lxii. were assigned to Lauds,
   has generally been adhered to both in the East and West. Cf. the Rule
   of S. Benedict, according to which Ps. l. is sung daily at Lauds, and
   lxii. as well on Sundays (c. xii., xiii.).

   [742] Missa.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   How one who does not come to the daily prayer before the end of the
   first Psalm is not allowed to enter the Oratory; but at Nocturnes a
   late arrival up to the end of the second Psalm can be overlooked.

   But one who at Tierce, Sext, or None has not come to prayer before the
   Psalm is begun and finished does not venture further to enter the
   Oratory nor to join himself to those singing the Psalms; but, standing
   outside, he awaits the breaking-up of the congregation, [743] and while
   they are all coming out does penance lying on the ground, and obtains
   absolution for his carelessness and lateness, knowing that he can in no
   other way expiate the fault of his sloth, nor can ever be admitted to
   the service which will follow three hours later, unless he has been
   quick to make satisfaction at once for his present negligence by the
   help of true humility. But in the nocturnal assemblies a late arrival
   up to the second Psalm is allowed, provided that before the Psalm is
   finished and the brethren bow down in prayer he makes haste to take his
   place in the congregation and join them; but he will most certainly be
   subjected to the same blame and penance which we mentioned before if he
   has delayed ever so little beyond the hour permitted for a late
   arrival. [744]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [743] Congregationis missam.

   [744] The Rule of S. Benedict has similar provisions, allowing a late
   arrival at Mattins till the Gloria after the Venite (the second Psalm,
   as it is preceded by Ps. iii.), and at the other services till the
   Gloria after the first Psalm. "If any come later than this, he is not
   to take his usual place in the choir, but stand last of all, or take
   whatever place the Abbot may have appointed for those who are guilty of
   a similar neglect, so that he may be seen of all; and in this place he
   is to remain until he shall have made public satisfaction, at the end
   of the office. We deem it necessary," the Rule proceeds, "to place such
   offenders thus apart, that, being thus exposed to the view of all their
   brethren, they may be shamed into a sense of duty. Moreover, if such
   were allowed to remain outside the church, they might either sit down
   at their ease, or while away their time in chatting, or perhaps return
   to the dormitory and compose themselves to sleep and thus expose
   themselves to the temptations of the enemy." Rule of S. Benedict, c.
   xliii.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Of the Vigil service which is celebrated on the evening preceding the
   Sabbath; of its length, and the manner in which it is observed.

   In the winter time, however, when the nights are longer, the Vigils,
   [745] which are celebrated every week on the evening at the commencing
   the Sabbath, are arranged by the elders in the monasteries to last till
   the fourth cock-crowing, for this reason, viz., that after the watch
   through the whole night they may, by resting their bodies for the
   remaining time of nearly two hours, avoid flagging through drowsiness
   the whole day long, and be content with repose for this short time
   instead of resting the whole night. And it is proper for us, too, to
   observe this with the utmost care, that we may be content with the
   sleep which is allowed us after the office of Vigils up to
   daybreak,--i.e., till the Mattin Psalms, [746] --and afterwards spend
   the whole day in work and necessary duties, lest through weariness from
   the Vigils, and feebleness, we might be forced to take by day the sleep
   which we cut off from the night, and so be thought not to have cut
   short our bodily rest so much as to have changed our time for repose
   and nightly retirement. For our feeble flesh could not possibly be
   defrauded of the whole night's rest and yet keep its vigour unshaken
   throughout the following day without sleepiness of mind and heaviness
   of spirit, as it will be hindered rather than helped by this unless
   after Vigils are over it enjoys a short slumber. And, therefore, if, as
   we have suggested, at least an hour's sleep is snatched before
   daybreak, we shall save all the hours of Vigils which we have spent all
   through the night in prayer, granting to nature what is due to it, and
   having no necessity of taking back by day what we have cut off from the
   night. For a man will certainly have to give up everything to this
   flesh if he tries, not in a rational manner to withhold a part only,
   but to refuse the whole, and (to speak candidly) is anxious to cut off
   not what is superfluous but what is necessary. Wherefore Vigils have to
   be made up for with greater interest if they are prolonged with
   ill-considered and unreasonable length till daybreak. And so they
   divide them into an office in three parts, that by this variety the
   effort may be distributed and the exhaustion of the body relieved by
   some agreeable relaxation. For when standing they have sung three
   Psalms antiphonally, [747] after this, sitting on the ground or in very
   low stalls, one of them repeats three Psalms, while the rest respond,
   each Psalm being assigned to one of the brethren, who succeed each
   other in turn; and to these they add three lessons while still sitting
   quietly. And so, by lessening their bodily exertion, they manage to
   observe their Vigils with greater attention of mind. [748]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [745] Vigiliae is here used as the equivalent of Nocturns.

   [746] I.e., the office of Lauds.

   [747] Tria Antiphona. The word is here used (as above, II. c. ii.), not
   in the modern sense of antiphon, but to denote a Psalm or Psalms sung
   antiphonally.

   [748] In this chapter Cassian describes two of the different methods of
   Psalmody employed in the ancient Church: (1) Antiphonal singing, where
   the congregation was divided into two parts, or choirs, which sang
   alternate verses; (2) the method according to which one voice alone
   sang the first part of the verse, and the rest of the congregation
   joined in at the close. Both methods are described in a well-known
   passage in an Epistle of S. Basil (Ep. ccvii. ad clericos Neocoes),
   where he tells us that in the morning service, at one time the people
   divide themselves into two parties and sing antiphonally to each other
   (antipsallousin allelois), while at another time they entrust to one
   person the duty of beginning the strain, and the rest respond
   (upechousi). This latter method seems to have been a very favourite
   one, the Psalms which were thus sung being called Responsoria. See
   Isidore, De Offic., i. 8; and compare the Dictionary of Christian
   Antiquities, Vol. II. p. 1745; and Bingham, Antiquities, Book XIV. c.
   i. A third method has been already described by Cassian in Book II. c.
   xi.; viz., that called Tractus, where the Psalm was executed by a
   single voice, while all the rest of the congregation listened.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   The reason why a Vigil is appointed as the Sabbath day dawns, and why a
   dispensation from fasting is enjoyed on the Sabbath all through the
   East.

   And throughout the whole of the East it has been settled, ever since
   the time of the preaching of the Apostles, when the Christian faith and
   religion was founded, that these Vigils should be celebrated as the
   Sabbath dawns, [749] for this reason,--because, when our Lord and
   Saviour had been crucified on the sixth day of the week, the disciples,
   overwhelmed by the freshness of His sufferings, remained watching
   throughout the whole night, giving no rest or sleep to their eyes.
   Wherefore, since that time, a service of Vigils has been appointed for
   this night, and is still observed in the same way up to the present day
   all through the East. And so, after the exertion of the Vigil, a
   dispensation from fasting, appointed in like manner for the Sabbath by
   apostolic men, [750] is not without reason enjoined in all the churches
   of the East, in accordance with that saying of Ecclesiastes, which,
   although it has another and a mystical sense, is not misapplied to
   this, by which we are charged to give to both days--that is, to the
   seventh and eighth equally--the same share of the service, as it says:
   "Give a portion to these seven and also to these eight." [751] For this
   dispensation from fasting must not be understood as a participation in
   the Jewish festival by those above all who are shown to be free from
   all Jewish superstition, but as contributing to that rest of the
   wearied body of which we have spoken; which, as it fasts continually
   for five days in the week all through the year, would easily be worn
   out and fail, unless it were revived by an interval of at least two
   days.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [749] The observance of a vigil for the whole or greater part of the
   night was a regular part of the preparation for the greater festivals,
   and as such was usual in the East before the Sabbath (Saturday) and
   Lord's Day, as well as Pentecost and Easter. See Socrates, H. E. VI.
   viii., where there is an allusion to this.

   [750] Saturday, as well as Sunday, was long regarded as a festival in
   the East, and, indeed, originally in most churches of the West as well.
   See the Apost. Const. II. lix. 1; VIII. xxxiii. 1. Apost. Canons lxvi.;
   Council of Laodicaea, Canons xvi., xlix., li.

   [751] Eccl. xi. 2.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   How it was brought about that they fast on the Sabbath in the city.

   But some people in some countries of the West, and especially in the
   city, [752] not knowing the reason of this indulgence, think that a
   dispensation from fasting ought certainly not to be allowed on the
   Sabbath, because they say that on this day the Apostle Peter fasted
   before his encounter with Simon. [753] But from this it is quite clear
   that he did this not in accordance with a canonical rule, but rather
   through the needs of his impending struggle. Since there, too, for the
   same purpose, Peter seems to have imposed on his disciples not a
   general but a special fast, which he certainly would not have done if
   he had known that it was wont to be observed by canonical rule: just as
   he would surely have been ready to appoint it even on Sunday, if the
   occasion of his struggle had fallen upon it: but no canonical rule of
   fasting would have been made general from this, because it was no
   general observance that led to it, but a matter of necessity, which
   forced it to be observed on a single occasion.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [752] Viz., Rome.

   [753] The Saturday fast was observed at Rome in very early days, being
   noticed by Tertullian, who seems to suggest that it originated in the
   prolongation of the Friday fast (on Fasting, c. xiv). But it seems to
   have been almost peculiar to Rome, and at Milan, in the time of S.
   Ambrose, the Eastern custom prevailed. See the important letter of
   Augustine to Casulanus (Ep. xxxvi.), where the whole subject of the
   difference of usage on this matter is fully discussed. The reason here
   given by Cassian for the origin of the local Roman custom (viz., that
   S. Peter's traditional encounter with Simon Magus took place on Sunday,
   and was prepared for by the apostle with a Saturday fast) is also there
   alluded to by Augustine as being the opinion of very many, though he
   tells us candidly that most of the Romans thought it false. "Est quidem
   et haec opinio plurimorum, quamvis eam perhibeant esse falsam plerique
   Romani, quod Apostolus Petrus cum Simone Mago die dominico certaturo,
   propter ipsum magnae tentationis periculum, pridie cum ejusdem urbis
   ecclesia jejunaverit, et consecuto tam prospero gloriosoque successu,
   eundem morem tenuerit, eumque imitatae sunt nonnullae Occidentis
   ecclesiae." Cf. also Augustine, Ep. ad Januarium, liv.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   Of the points in which the service held on Sunday differs from what is
   customary on other days.

   But we ought to know this, too, that on Sunday only one office [754] is
   celebrated before dinner, at which, out of regard for the actual
   service [755] and the Lord's communion, they use a more solemn and a
   longer service of Psalms and prayers and lessons, and so consider that
   Tierce and Sext are included in it. And hence it results that, owing to
   the addition of the lessons, there is no diminution of the amount of
   their devotions, and yet some difference is made, and an indulgence
   over other times seems to be granted to the brethren out of reverence
   for the Lord's resurrection; and this seems to lighten the observance
   all through the week, and, by reason of the difference which is
   interposed, it makes the day to be looked forward to more solemnly as a
   festival, and owing to the anticipation of it the fasts of the coming
   week are less felt. For any weariness is always borne with greater
   equanimity, and labour undertaken without aversion, if some variety is
   interposed or change of work succeeds.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [754] Missa.

   [755] Collecta. This word, from which our word "Collect" is possibly
   derived, is used for an assembly for worship in the Vulgate in Lev.
   xxiii. 36; Deut. xvi. 8; 2 Chron. vii. 9; Neh. viii. 18: and compare
   the phrase, "Ad Collectam," in the Sacramentary of Gregory for the
   Feast of the Purification.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   Of the days on which, when supper is provided for the brethren, a Psalm
   is not said as they assemble for the meals as is usual at dinner.

   Lastly, also, on those days,--i.e., on Saturday and Sunday,--and on
   holy days, on which it is usual for both dinner and supper to be
   provided for the brethren, a Psalm is not said in the evening, either
   when they come to supper or when they rise from it, as is usual at
   their ordinary dinner [756] and the canonical refreshment on fast days,
   which the customary Psalms usually precede and follow. But they simply
   make a plain prayer and come to supper, and again, when they rise from
   it, conclude with prayer alone; because this repast is something
   special among the monks: nor are they all obliged to come to it, but it
   is only for strangers who have come to see the brethren, and those whom
   bodily weakness or their own inclination invites to it.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [756] In sollemnibus prandiis. The phrase must here refer to their
   dinner on ordinary days (cf. solemnitatem ciborum, "their usual food,"
   Book IV. c. xxi.). Among the early monks it was the custom ordinarily
   to have but one meal a day on the fast days (viz., Wednesday and
   Friday); this was at the ninth hour; on other days, at the sixth (i.e.,
   midday). Cf. the Conferences XXI. c. xxiii. On festivals (viz.,
   Saturday, Sunday, and holy days), beside the midday meal a supper was
   allowed as well. And on these days, as we learn from the passage before
   us, the ordinary grace before and after meat was shortened by the
   omission of the customary Psalms at other times included in it. On the
   meals of the monks, cf. S. Jerome's Preface to the Rule of Pachomius
   and the Rule of S. Benedict, cc. xxxix.-xli., the former of which tells
   us that, except on Wednesday and Friday, dinner was at midday, and a
   table was also set for labourers, old men, and children, and
   (apparently) for all, in the height of summer. For the use of Psalms at
   grace, see Clement of Alexandria, Poedag. II. iv. 44; Stromateis VII.
   vii. 49.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Book IV.

    Of the Institutes of the Renunciants.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   Of the training of those who renounce this world, and of the way in
   which those are taught among the monks of Tabenna and the Egyptians who
   are received into the monasteries.

   From the canonical system of Psalms and prayers which ought to be
   observed in the daily services throughout the monasteries, we pass, in
   the due course of our narrative, to the training of one who renounces
   this world; endeavouring first, as well as we can, to embrace, in a
   short account, the terms on which those who desire to turn to the Lord
   can be received in the monasteries; adding some things from the rule of
   the Egyptians, some from that of the monks of Tabenna, [757] whose
   monastery in the Thebaid is better filled as regards numbers, as it is
   stricter in the rigour of its system, than all others, for there are in
   it more than five thousand brethren under the rule of one Abbot; and
   the obedience with which the whole number of monks is at all times
   subject to one Elder is what no one among us would render to another
   even for a short time, or would demand from him.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [757] Tabenna, or Tabennae, was an island in the Nile, where was
   founded a flourishing monastery by Pachomius c. 330 a.d. Of Pachomius
   there is a notice in Sozomen H. E. Book III. c. xiv., and his Rule was
   translated into Latin, with a preface by S. Jerome who mentions his
   fame in Ep. cxxvii. There is a Life of Pachomius given by Rosweyde
   (Vitae Patrum), which is said to be a translation of a work by a
   contemporary of his.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   Of the way in which among them men remain in the monasteries even to
   extreme old age.

   And I think that before anything else we ought to touch on their
   untiring perseverance and humility and subjection,--how it lasts for so
   long, and by what system it is formed, through which they remain in the
   monasteries till they are bent double with old age; for it is so great
   that we cannot recollect any one who joined our monasteries keeping it
   up unbroken even for a year: so that when we have seen the beginning of
   their renunciation of the world, we shall understand how it came about
   that, starting from such a commencement, they reached such a height of
   perfection.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   Of the ordeal by which one who is to be received in the monastery is
   tested.

   One, then, who seeks to be admitted to the discipline of the monastery
   is never received before he gives, by lying outside the doors for ten
   days or even longer, an evidence of his perseverance and desire, as
   well as of humility and patience. And when, prostrate at the feet of
   all the brethren that pass by, and of set purpose repelled and scorned
   by all of them, as if he was wanting to enter the monastery not for the
   sake of religion but because he was obliged; and when, too, covered
   with many insults and affronts, he has given a practical proof of his
   steadfastness, and has shown what he will be like in temptations by the
   way he has borne the disgrace; and when, with the ardour of his soul
   thus ascertained, he is admitted, then they enquire with the utmost
   care whether he is contaminated by a single coin from his former
   possessions clinging to him. For they know that he cannot stay for long
   under the discipline of the monastery, nor ever learn the virtue of
   humility and obedience, nor be content with the poverty and difficult
   life of the monastery, if he knows that ever so small a sum of money
   has been kept hid; but, as soon as ever a disturbance arises on some
   occasion or other, he will at once dart off from the monastery like a
   stone from a sling, impelled to this by trusting in that sum of money.
   [758]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [758] Cf. the Rule of Pachomius, c. xxvi.: "If any or comes to the door
   of the monastery wanting to renounce the world and to join the number
   of the brethren, he shall not be allowed to enter, but the Abbot of the
   monastery must first be told, and he shall stay for a few days outside
   before the gate, and shall be taught the Lord's Prayer and as many
   Psalms as he can learn, and shall diligently give proof of himself that
   he has not done any thing wrong and fled in trouble for the time, and
   that he is not in any one's power, and that he can forsake his
   relations and disregard his property. And if they see that he is apt
   for everything, then he shall be taught the rest of the rules of the
   monastery,--what he ought to do, whom he is to obey," etc.; and,
   finally, he is to be admitted. See also the Rule of S. Benedict, c.
   lviii., which is to much the same effect, and S. Basil's Longer
   Monastic Rules, Q. x.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   The reason why those who are received in the monastery are not allowed
   to bring anything in with them.

   And for these reasons they do not agree to take from him money to be
   used even for the good of the monastery: First, in case he may be
   puffed up with arrogance, owing to this offering, and so not deign to
   put himself on a level with the poorer brethren; and next, lest he fail
   through this pride of his to stoop to the humility of Christ, and so,
   when he cannot hold out under the discipline of the monastery, leave
   it, and afterwards, when he has cooled down, want in a bad spirit to
   receive and get back--not without loss to the monastery--what he had
   contributed in the early days of his renunciation, when he was aglow
   with spiritual fervour. And that this rule should always be kept they
   have been frequently taught by many instances. For in some monasteries
   where they are not so careful some who have been received unreservedly
   have afterwards tried most sacrilegiously to demand a return of that
   which they had contributed and which had been spent on God's work.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   The reason why those who give up the world, when they are received in
   the monasteries, must lay aside their own clothes and be clothed in
   others by the Abbot.

   Wherefore each one on his admission is stripped of all his former
   possessions, so that he is not allowed any longer to keep even the
   clothes which he has on his back: but in the council of the brethren he
   is brought forward into the midst and stripped of his own clothes, and
   clad by the Abbot's hands in the dress of the monastery, so that by
   this he may know not only that he has been despoiled of all his old
   things, but also that he has laid aside all worldly pride, and come
   down to the want and poverty of Christ, and that he is now to be
   supported not by wealth sought for by the world's arts, nor by anything
   reserved from his former state of unbelief, but that he is to receive
   out of the holy and sacred funds of the monastery his rations for his
   service; and that, as he knows that he is thence to be clothed and fed
   and that he has nothing of his own, he may learn, nevertheless, not to
   be anxious about the morrow, according to the saying of the Gospel, and
   may not be ashamed to be on a level with the poor, that is with the
   body of the brethren, with whom Christ was not ashamed to be numbered,
   and to call himself their brother, but that rather he may glory that he
   has been made to share the lot of his own servants. [759]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [759] So the Rule of Pachomius (c. xxvi.) orders that on the admission
   of a monk "they shall strip him of his secular dress, and put on him
   the garb of the monks;" and that of S. Benedict (c. lviii.), "He shall
   then be clothed in the religious habit, and his secular clothes
   deposited in the wardrobe, that if, at the instigation of the devil, he
   should ever leave the monastery, they may be given back to him, and the
   religious dress be taken from him."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   The reason why the clothes of the renunciants with which they joined
   the monastery are preserved by the steward.

   But those clothes, which he laid aside, are consigned to the care of
   the steward and kept until by different sorts of temptations and trials
   they can recognize the excellence of his progress and life and
   endurance. And if they see that he can continue therein as time goes
   on, and remain in that fervour with which he began, they give them away
   to the poor. But if they find that he has been guilty of any fault of
   murmuring, or of even the smallest piece of disobedience, then they
   strip off from him the dress of the monastery in which he had been
   clad, and reclothe him in his old garments which had been confiscated,
   and send him away. [760] For it is not right for him to go away with
   those which he had received, nor do they allow any one to be any longer
   dressed in them if they have seen him once grow cold in regard to the
   rule of their institution. Wherefore, also, the opportunity of going
   out openly is not given to any one, unless he escapes like a runaway
   slave by taking advantage of the thickest shades of night, or is judged
   unworthy of this order and profession and lays aside the dress of the
   monastery and is expelled with shame and disgrace before all the
   brethren.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [760] See the quotation from the Rule of S. Benedict in the note on the
   last chapter.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   The reason why those who are admitted to a monastery are not permitted
   to mix at once with the congregation of the brethren, but are first
   committed to the guest house.

   When, then, any one has been received and proved by that persistence of
   which we have spoken, and, laying aside his own garments, has been clad
   in those of the monastery, he is not allowed to mix at once with the
   congregation of the brethren, but is given into the charge of an Elder,
   who lodges apart not far from the entrance of the monastery, and is
   entrusted with the care of strangers and guests, and bestows all his
   diligence in receiving them kindly. And when he has served there for a
   whole year without any complaint, and has given evidence of service
   towards strangers, [761] being thus initiated in the first rudiments of
   humility and patience, and by long practice in it acknowledged, when he
   is to be admitted from this into the congregation of the brethren he is
   handed over to another Elder, who is placed over ten of the juniors,
   who are entrusted to him by the Abbot, and whom he both teaches and
   governs in accordance with the arrangement which we read of in Exodus
   as made by Moses. [762]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [761] In the same way the Rule of S. Benedict (c. lviii.) directs that
   the novice is to be placed in the guest house for a few days, while
   that of S. Isidore is more precise in ordering him to be placed there
   "for three months," and to wait on the guests there. Two months is the
   period fixed by other rules, but a few days was all that was ultimately
   required, and Cassian stands alone in mentioning a full year as the
   duration of this service, though Sozomen speaks of the monks of Tabenna
   as having to undergo a probation of three years. H. E., III. xiv.

   [762] Cf. Exod. xviii. 25. The office of "Dean" (Decanus) which is here
   spoken of by Cassian, is also referred to by Augustine (De Mor. Eccl.
   xxxi.) and Jerome (Ep. xxii. ad Eustoch.), and recognized by the Rule
   of S. Benedict, c. xxi., where directions for his appointment are
   given.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Of the practices in which the juniors are first exercised that they may
   become proficient in overcoming all their desires.

   And his anxiety and the chief part of his instruction--through which
   the juniors brought to him may be able in due course to mount to the
   greatest heights of perfection--will be to teach him first to conquer
   his own wishes; and, anxiously and diligently practising him in this,
   he will of set purpose contrive to give him such orders as he knows to
   be contrary to his liking; for, taught by many examples, they say that
   a monk, and especially the younger ones, cannot bridle the desire of
   his concupiscence unless he has first learnt by obedience to mortify
   his wishes. And so they lay it down that the man who has not first
   learnt to overcome his desires cannot possibly stamp out anger or
   sulkiness, or the spirit of fornication; nor can he preserve true
   humility of heart, or lasting unity with the brethren, or a stable and
   continuous concord; nor remain for any length of time in the monastery.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   The reason why the juniors are enjoined not to keep back any of their
   thoughts from the senior.

   By these practices, then, they hasten to impress and instruct those
   whom they are training with the alphabet, as it were, and first
   syllables in the direction of perfection, as they can clearly see by
   these whether they are grounded in a false and imaginary or in a true
   humility. And, that they may easily arrive at this, they are next
   taught not to conceal by a false shame any itching thoughts in their
   hearts, but, as soon as ever such arise, to lay them bare to the
   senior, and, in forming a judgment about them, not to trust anything to
   their own discretion, but to take it on trust that that is good or bad
   which is considered and pronounced so by the examination of the senior.
   Thus it results that our cunning adversary cannot in any way circumvent
   a young and inexperienced monk, or get the better of his ignorance, or
   by any craft deceive one whom he sees to be protected not by his own
   discretion but by that of his senior, and who cannot be persuaded to
   hide from his senior those suggestions of his which like fiery darts he
   has shot into his heart; since the devil, subtle as he is, cannot ruin
   or destroy a junior unless he has enticed him either through pride or
   through shame to conceal his thoughts. For they lay it down as an
   universal and clear proof that a thought is from the devil if we are
   ashamed to disclose it to the senior. [763]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [763] Compare the Conferences, Book II. c. x., where Cassian returns to
   the same subject. A similar rule that the brethren are to lay bare all
   the secrets of their hearts to their superior is given, by S. Basil in
   the Longer Monastic Rules, Q. xxvi., and in the Rule of S. Isaiah (cc.
   vi., xliii.), printed in Holsten's Codex Regularum, Vol. I.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   How thorough is the obedience of the juniors even in those things which
   are matters of common necessity.

   Next, the rule is kept with such strict obedience that, without the
   knowledge and permission of their superior, the juniors not only do not
   dare to leave their cell but on their own authority do not venture to
   satisfy their common and natural needs. And so they are quick to fulfil
   without any discussion all those things that are ordered by him, as if
   they were commanded by God from heaven; [764] so that sometimes, when
   impossibilities are commanded them, they undertake them with such faith
   and devotion as to strive with all their powers and without the
   slightest hesitation to fulfil them and carry them out; and out of
   reverence for their senior they do not even consider whether a command
   is an impossibility. [765] But of their obedience I omit at present to
   speak more particularly, for we propose to speak of it in the proper
   place a little later on, with instances of it, if through your prayers
   the Lord carry us safely through. We now proceed to the other
   regulations, passing over all account of those which cannot be imposed
   on or kept in the monasteries in this country, as we promised to do in
   our Preface; for instance, how they never use woollen garments, but
   only cotton, and these not double, changes of which each superior gives
   out to the ten monks under his care when he sees that those which they
   are wearing are dirty.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [764] Cf. the Rule of S. Benedict, c. v., where it is said that "the
   first degree of humility is ready obedience. This is peculiar to those
   who...prefer nothing to Christ, and fulfil the injunctions of their
   superiors as promptly as if God Himself had given them the command,"
   etc.

   [765] The Rule of S. Benedict has a chapter to explain what is to be
   done if a brother is commanded to perform impossibilities (c. lxviii.).
   "If a brother is commanded to do anything that is difficult, or even
   impossible, let him receive the command with all meekness and
   obedience; meanwhile, should he see that he is utterly unequal to the
   task laid upon him, let him represent the matter to his superior calmly
   and respectfully, without pride, resistance, or contradiction. If the
   superior, after hearing what he has to say, still insists on the
   execution of the command, let the junior be persuaded that it is for
   his spiritual good, and accordingly trusting in God's assistance, let
   him for His love undertake the work."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   The kind of food which is considered the greater delicacy by them.

   I pass over, too, that difficult and sublime sort of self-control,
   through which it is considered the greatest luxury if the plant called
   cherlock, [766] prepared with salt and steeped in water, is set on the
   table for the repast of the brethren; and many other things like this,
   which in this country neither the climate nor the weakness of our
   constitution would permit. And I shall only follow up those matters
   which cannot be interfered with by any weakness of the flesh or local
   situation, if only no weakness of mind or coldness of spirit gets rid
   of them.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [766] Labsanion. Cf. below, c. xxiii., where cherlock is mentioned
   again, together with other delicacies (!) of the Egyptians.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   How they leave off every kind of work at the sound of some one knocking
   at the door, in their eagerness to answer at once.

   And so, sitting in their cells and devoting their energies equally to
   work and to meditation, when they hear the sound of some one knocking
   at the door and striking on the cells of each, summoning them to prayer
   or some work, every one eagerly dashes out from his cell, so that one
   who is practising the writer's art, although he may have just begun to
   form a letter, does not venture to finish it, but runs out with the
   utmost speed, at the very moment when the sound of the knocking reaches
   his ears, without even waiting to finish the letter he has begun; but,
   leaving the lines of the letter incomplete, he aims not at abridging
   and saving his labour, but rather hastens with the utmost earnestness
   and zeal to attain the virtue of obedience, which they put not merely
   before manual labour and reading and silence and quietness in the cell,
   but even before all virtues, so that they consider that everything
   should be postponed to it, and are content to undergo any amount of
   inconvenience if only it may be seen that they have in no way neglected
   this virtue. [767]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [767] Cf. the Rule of S. Benedict, c. v.: "Those who choose to tread
   the path that leads to life eternal immediately quit their private
   occupations at the call of obedience, and, renouncing their own will so
   far as to cast away unfinished out of their hands whatever they may be
   occupied with, hasten to execute the orders of their superiors," etc.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   How wrong it is considered for any one to say that anything, however
   trifling, is his own.

   Among their other practices I fancy that it is unnecessary even to
   mention this virtue, viz., that no one is allowed to possess a box or
   basket as his special property, nor any such thing which he could keep
   as his own and secure with his own seal, as we are well aware that they
   are in all respects stripped so bare that they have nothing whatever
   except their shirt, cloak, shoes, sheepskin, and rush mat; [768] for in
   other monasteries as well, where some indulgence and relaxation is
   granted, we see that this rule is still most strictly kept, so that no
   one ventures to say even in word that anything is his own: and it is a
   great offence if there drops from the mouth of a monk such an
   expression as "my book," "my tablets," "my pen," "my coat," or "my
   shoes;" and for this he would have to make satisfaction by a proper
   penance, if by accident some such expression escaped his lips through
   thoughtlessness or ignorance.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [768] Psiathium. The rush mats which served as a seat by day and a bed
   by night for the monks. See Book V. xxxv., and the Conferences I.
   xxiii.; XV. i.; XVII. iii.; XVIII. xi. S. Jerome mentions it in his
   preface to the Rule of Pachomius as one of the very few articles
   contained in the cells of the monks of Tabenna. "They have nothing in
   their cells except a mat and what is described below: two lebitonaria,'
   a kind of garment without sleeves which the Egyptian monks use (the
   colobium, or shirt), one old one for sleeping or working, a linen
   garment and two hoods, a sheepskin, a linen girdle, shoes, and a
   staff."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   How, even if a large sum of money is amassed by the labour of each,
   still no one may venture to exceed the moderate limit of what is
   appointed as adequate.

   And although each one of them may bring in daily by his work and labour
   so great a return to the monastery that he could out of it not only
   satisfy his own moderate demands but could also abundantly supply the
   wants of many, yet he is no way puffed up, nor does he flatter himself
   on account of his toil and this large gain from his labour, but, except
   two biscuits, [769] which are sold there for scarcely threepence, no
   one thinks that he has a right to anything further. And among them
   there is nothing (and I am ashamed to say this, and heartily wish it
   was unknown in our own monasteries) which is claimed by any of them, I
   will not say in deed but even in thought, as his special property. And
   though he believes that the whole granary of the monastery forms his
   substance, and, as lord of all, devotes his whole care and energy to it
   all, yet nevertheless, in order to maintain that excellent state of
   want and poverty which he has secured and which he strives to preserve
   to the very last in unbroken perfection, he regards himself as a
   foreigner and an alien to them all, so that he conducts himself as a
   stranger and a sojourner in this world, and considers himself a pupil
   of the monastery and a servant instead of imagining that he is lord and
   master of anything.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [769] Paxamatium, a biscuit. The word comes from the Greek paxamadion,
   and is said to be derived from the name of a baker, Paxamos (see
   Liddell and Scott, c. v.). These biscuits formed an important part of
   the diet of the Egyptian monks, as we see from the Conferences, where
   they are often mentioned; e.g., II. xi, xix., xxiv., xxvi.; XII. xv.;
   XIX. iv.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   Of the excessive desire of possession among us.

   To this what shall we wretched creatures say, who though living in
   Coenobia and established under the government and care of an Abbot yet
   carry about our own keys, and trampling under foot all feeling of shame
   and disgrace which should spring from our profession, are not ashamed
   actually to wear openly upon our fingers rings with which to seal what
   we have stored up; and in whose case not merely boxes and baskets, but
   not even chests and closets are sufficient for those things which we
   collect or which we reserved when we forsook the world; and who
   sometimes get so angry over trifles and mere nothings (to which however
   we lay claim as if they were our own) that if any one dares to lay a
   finger on any of them, we are so filled with rage against him that we
   cannot keep the wrath of our heart from being expressed on our lips and
   in bodily excitement. But, passing by our faults and treating with
   silence those things of which it is a shame even to speak, according to
   this saying: "My mouth shall not speak the deeds of men," [770] let us
   in accordance with the method of our narration which we have begun
   proceed to those virtues which are practised among them, and which we
   ought to aim at with all earnestness; and let us briefly and hastily
   set down the actual rules and systems that afterwards, coming to some
   of the deeds and acts of the elders which we propose carefully to
   preserve for recollection, we may support by the strongest testimonies
   what we have set forth in our treatise, and still further confirm
   everything that we have said by examples and instances from life.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [770] Ps. xvi. (xvii.) 4.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   On the rules for various rebukes.

   If then any one by accident breaks an earthenware jar (which they call
   "baucalis"), he can only expiate his carelessness by public penance;
   and when all the brethren are assembled for service he must lie on the
   ground and ask for absolution until the service of the prayers is
   finished; and will obtain it when by the Abbot's command he is bidden
   to rise from the ground. The same satisfaction must be given by one who
   when summoned to some work or to the usual service comes rather late,
   or who when singing a Psalm hesitates ever so little. Similarly if he
   answers unnecessarily or roughly or impertinently, if he is careless in
   carrying out the services enjoined to him, if he makes a slight
   complaint, if preferring reading to work or obedience he is slow in
   performing his appointed duties, if when service is over he does not
   make haste to go back at once to his cell, if he stops for ever so
   short a time with some one else, if he goes anywhere else even for a
   moment, if he takes any one else by the hand, if he ventures to discuss
   anything however small with one who is not the joint-occupant of his
   cell, [771] if he prays with one who is suspended from prayer, if he
   sees any of his relations or friends in the world and talks with them
   without his senior, if he tries to receive a letter from any one or to
   write back without his Abbot's leave. [772] To such an extent does
   spiritual censure proceed and in such matters and faults like these.
   But as for other things which when indiscriminately committed among us
   are treated by us too as blameworthy, viz.: open wrangling, manifest
   contempt, arrogant contradictions, going out from the monastery freely
   and without check, familiarity with women, wrath, quarrelling,
   jealousies, disputes, claiming something as one's own property, the
   infection of covetousness, the desire and acquisition of unnecessary
   things which are not possessed by the rest of the brethren, taking food
   between meals and by stealth, and things like these--they are dealt
   with not by that spiritual censure of which we spoke, but by stripes;
   or are atoned for by expulsion.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [771] From this passage we gather that in Egypt two monks were often
   the joint occupants of a single cell. Cf. II. xii. and Conference XX.
   i., ii.

   [772] Many of these faults are noticed in the Rule of Pachomius as
   deserving censure, e.g., unpunctuality at or carelessness in service
   (c. viii. ix.), breaking anything (c. cxxv.), murmuring (lxxxvii.),
   taking the hand of another (xliv.). So also in the Rule of S. Benedict
   (cc. xliii.-xlvi.) similar directions are given, while in c. xliv. the
   nature of the penance is more fully described. He who in punishment of
   a grievous fault has been excluded from the Refectory and the Church,
   shall lie prostrate at the door of the latter at the end of each
   office, and shall there remain in silence with his forehead touching
   the ground, until the brethren retiring from church have all walked
   over him. This penance he shall continue to perform till it be
   announced to him that he has made due satisfaction. When commended by
   the Abbot to appear before him, he shall go and cast himself at his
   feet and then at the feet of all the brethren, begging of them to pray
   for him. He shall then be admitted to the choir, if the Abbot so order,
   and shall take there whatever place he may assign him: but let him not
   presume to intone a Psalm, read a lesson or perform any similar duty,
   without the special permission of the Abbot. He shall, moreover,
   prostrate himself in his place in choir at the end of every office,
   until the Abbot tells him to discontinue this penance. Those who for
   light faults are excluded merely from the common table, shall make
   satisfaction in the church according as the Abbot shall direct, and
   shall continue to do so until he gives them his blessing and tells them
   that they have made sufficient atonement.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   Of those who introduced the plan that the holy Lessons should be read
   in the Coenobia while the brethren are eating, and of the strict
   silence which is kept among the Egyptians.

   But we have been informed that the plan that, while the brethren are
   eating, the holy lessons should be read in the Coenobia did not
   originate in the Egyptian system but in the Cappadocian. And there is
   no doubt that they meant to establish it not so much for the sake of
   the spiritual exercise as for the sake of putting a stop to unnecessary
   and idle conversation, and especially discussions, which so often arise
   at meals; since they saw that these could not be prevented among them
   in any other way. [773] For among the Egyptians and especially those of
   Tabenna so strict a silence is observed by all that when so large a
   number of the brethren has sat down together to a meal, no one ventures
   to talk even in a low tone except the dean, who however if he sees that
   anything is wanted to be put on or taken off the table, signifies it by
   a sign rather than a word. And while they are eating, the rule of this
   silence is so strictly kept that with their hoods drawn down over their
   eyelids (to prevent their roving looks having the opportunity of
   wandering inquisitively) they can see nothing except the table, and the
   food that is put on it, and which they take from it; so that no one
   notices what another is eating. [774]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [773] It is quite in keeping with what is here said by Cassian that in
   the Rule of Pachomius there is no mention of reading at meals, but only
   of the strict silence observed, so that anything wanted might not be
   asked for but only indicated by a sign (cc. xxxi., xxxiii.), while in
   the shorter Monastic Rules of S. Basil the custom of reading at meals
   is distinctly alluded to (Q. clxxx.). It is of course also ordered in
   most of the later monastic rules, e.g. that of Cesarius of Arles "ad
   Monachos" c. xlix., "ad Virgines" c. xvi.; that of S. Aurelian, c.
   xlix.; S. Isidore, c. x., and S. Benedict, c. xxxviii. The regulations
   in the last mentioned are as follows:--"A book should be read in the
   Refectory while the brethren are at meals. Let no one presume to read
   of his own accord; but let there be one appointed to perform that duty,
   who, commencing on Sunday, will read during the entire week...Profound
   silence shall be observed during meals, so that no voice save that of
   the reader may be heard. The brethren will so help each other to what
   is necessary as regards food and drink that no one may have occasion to
   ask for anything; should, however, anything be wanted, let it be asked
   for by sign rather than word. Let no one presume to make any
   observation either on what is being read or on any other subject, lest
   occasion be given to the enemy. The Prior, however, should he think
   fit, may say a few words to edify the brethren."

   [774] So Pachomius (c. xxix.). While they are eating they shall sit in
   their right places and shall cover their heads.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   How it is against the rule for any one to take anything to eat or drink
   except at the common table.

   In between their regular meals in common they are especially careful
   that no one should presume to gratify his palate with any food: [775]
   so that when they are walking casually through gardens or orchards,
   when the fruit hanging enticingly on the trees not only knocks against
   their breasts as they pass through, but is also lying on the ground and
   offering itself to be trampled under foot, and (as it is all ready to
   be gathered) would easily be able to entice those who see it to gratify
   their appetite, and by the chance offered to them and the quantity of
   the fruit, to excite even the most severe and abstemious to long for
   it; still they consider it wrong not merely to taste a single fruit,
   but even to touch one with the hand, except what is put on the table
   openly for the common meal of all, and supplied publicly by the
   steward's catering through the service of the brethren, for their
   enjoyment.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [775] Similarly we find in the Rule of Pachomius that no one is allowed
   to keep any food in his cell besides what he receives from the steward
   (c. lxxix.): and the Benedictine Rule also says: "Let no one presume to
   take any food or drink out of the regular hours of meals" (c. xliii).
   Cf. also the Rule of Pachomius cc. lxxv. and lxxviii., S. Basil's
   longer Monastic Rules Q. xv., Apsato bromaton para kairon; epi pleiston
   tes hemeras apositos esto, the Rule of Aurelian (c. lii.), that of
   Isidore (c. xiii.), etc.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   How throughout Palestine and Mesopotamia a daily service is undertaken
   by the brethren.

   In order that we may not appear to omit any of the Institutes of the
   Coenobia I think that it should be briefly mentioned that in other
   countries as well there is a daily service undertaken by the brethren.
   For throughout the whole of Mesopotamia, Palestine, and Cappadocia and
   all the East the brethren succeed one another in turn every week for
   the performance of certain duties, so that the number serving is told
   off according to the whole number of monks in the Coenobium. And they
   hasten to fulfil these duties with a zeal and humility such as no slave
   bestows on his service even to a most harsh and powerful master; so
   that not satisfied only with these services which are rendered by
   canonical rule, they actually rise by night in their zeal and relieve
   those whose special duty this is; and secretly anticipating them try to
   finish those duties which these others would have to do. But each one
   who undertakes these weeks is on duty and has to serve until supper on
   Sunday, and when this is done, his duty for the whole week is finished,
   so that, when all the brethren come together to chant the Psalms (which
   according to custom they sing before going to bed) those whose turn is
   over wash the feet of all in turn, seeking faithfully from them the
   reward of this blessing for their work during the whole week, that the
   prayers offered up by all the brethren together may accompany them as
   they fulfil the command of Christ, the prayer, to wit, that intercedes
   for their ignorances and for their sins committed through human
   frailty, and may commend to God the complete service of their devotion
   like some rich offering. And so on Monday after the Mattin hymns they
   hand over to others who take their place the vessels and utensils with
   which they have ministered, which these receive and keep with the
   utmost care and anxiety, that none of them may be injured or destroyed,
   as they believe that even for the smallest vessels they must give an
   account, as sacred things, not only to a present steward, but to the
   Lord, if by chance any of them is injured through their carelessness.
   And what limit there is to this discipline, and what fidelity and care
   there is in keeping it up, you may see from one instance which I will
   give as an example.  For while we are anxious to satisfy that fervour
   of yours through which you ask for a full account of everything, and
   want even what you know perfectly well to be repeated to you in this
   treatise, we are also afraid of exceeding the limits of brevity. [776]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [776] The weekly officers here spoken of were termed "Hebdomadarii"
   (see the next chapter). According to most rules their duties included
   cooking, serving, and reading at meals. They are mentioned in S.
   Jerome's preface to the Rule of Pachomius (cf. also Ep. xxii. ad
   Eustochium), but it would appear from what Cassian says below in c.
   xxii. that in Egypt the office of cook was assigned to some one brother
   and not undertaken by all in turn. According to Cassian they entered
   upon office on Monday morning but the Benedictine (c. xxxv.) and other
   rules speak of them as beginning their duties on Sunday morning. The
   custom of washing the feet of the brethren, which Cassian here
   describes, is also mentioned by S. Benedict. l. c.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   Of the three lentil beans which the Steward found.

   During the week of a certain brother the steward passing by saw lying
   on the ground three lentil beans which had slipped out of the hand of
   the monk on duty for the week [777] as he was hastily preparing them
   for cooking, together with the water in which he was washing them; and
   immediately he consulted the Abbot on the subject; and by him the monk
   was adjudged a pilferer and careless about sacred property, and so was
   suspended from prayer. And the offence of his negligence was only
   pardoned when he had atoned for it by public penance. For they believe
   not only that they themselves are not their own, but also that
   everything that they possess is consecrated to the Lord. Wherefore if
   anything whatever has once been brought into the monastery they hold
   that it ought to be treated with the utmost reverence as an holy thing.
   And they attend to and arrange everything with great fidelity, even in
   the case of things which are considered unimportant or regarded as
   common and paltry, so that if they change their position and put them
   in a better place, or if they fill a bottle with water, or give anybody
   something to drink out of it, or if they remove a little dust from the
   oratory or from their cell they believe with implicit faith that they
   will receive a reward from the Lord.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [777] Hebdomadarius.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   Of the spontaneous service of some of the brethren.

   We have been told of brethren in whose week there was such a scarcity
   of wood that they had not enough to prepare the usual food for the
   brethren; and when it had been ordered by the Abbot's authority that
   until more could be brought and fetched, they should content themselves
   with dried food, [778] though this was agreed to by all and no one
   could expect any cooked food; still these men as if they were cheated
   of the fruit and reward of their labour and service, if they did not
   prepare the food for their brethren according to custom in the order of
   their turn--imposed upon themselves such uncalled-for labour and care
   that in those dry and sterile regions where wood cannot possibly be
   procured unless it is cut from the fruit trees (for there are no wild
   shrubs found there as with us), they wander about through the wide
   deserts, and traversing the wilderness which stretches towards the Dead
   Sea, [779] collect in their lap and the folds of their dress the scanty
   stubble and brambles which the wind carries hither and thither, and so
   by their voluntary service prepare all their usual food for the
   brethren, so that they suffer nothing to be diminished of the ordinary
   supply; discharging these duties of theirs towards their brethren with
   such fidelity that though the scarcity of wood and the Abbot's order
   would be a fair excuse for them, yet still out of regard for their
   profit and reward they will not take advantage of this liberty.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [778] Xerophagia (xerophagia), "dried food," distinguished from what is
   raw (omophagia) in the next chapter. Cf. for the word, Tertullian on
   Fasting c. i. and xvii.

   [779] This shows that Cassian is here writing about the monks of
   Palestine, not those of Egypt, who (according to the next chapter) had
   a permanent cook. There is a further allusion to and description of
   this desert in the Conference VI. i.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   The system of the Egyptians, which is appointed for the daily service
   of the brethren.

   These things have been told in accordance with the system, as we
   remarked before, of the whole East, which also we say should be
   observed as a matter of course in our own country. But among the
   Egyptians whose chief care is for work there is not the mutual change
   of weekly service, for fear lest owing to the requirements of office
   they might all be hindered from keeping the rule of work. But one of
   the most approved brethren is given the care of the larder and kitchen,
   and he takes charge of that office for good and all as long as his
   strength and years permit. For he is exhausted by no great bodily
   labour, because no great care is expended among them in preparing food
   or in cooking, as they so largely make use of dried and uncooked food,
   [780] and among them the leaves of leeks cut each month, and cherlock,
   table salt, [781] olives, tiny little salt fish which they call
   sardines, [782] form the greatest delicacy.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [780] The distinction between the xerophagia and omophagia is shown by
   the following passage from S. Jerome's Life of Hilarion describing his
   food: "From his twenty-first year to his twenty-seventh for three
   years....his food was dry bread and water (xerophagia). Further from
   his twenty-seventh to his thirtieth year he supported himself on wild
   herbs, and the raw roots of certain plants (omophagia)."

   [781] Sal frictum, "rubbed salt," i.e., table salt as distinct from
   rough or block salt.

   [782] Moenomenia (Petschenig) or Moenidia (Gazaeus). The word comes
   from the Greek mainomena or mainidion, dimin. from maine, a small
   salted fish.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIII.

   The obedience of Abbot John by which he was exalted even to the grace
   of prophecy.

   And since this book is about the training of one who renounces this
   world, whereby, making a beginning of true humility and perfect
   obedience, he may be enabled to ascend the heights of the other virtues
   as well, I think it well to set down just by way of specimen, as we
   promised, some of the deeds of the elders whereby they excelled in this
   virtue, selecting a few only out of many instances, that, if any are
   anxious to aim at still greater heights, they may not only receive from
   these an incitement towards the perfect life, but may also be furnished
   with a model of what they purpose. Wherefore, to make this book as
   short as possible we will produce and set down two or three out of the
   whole number of the Fathers; and first of all Abbot John who lived near
   Lycon [783] which is a town in the Thebaid; and who was exalted even to
   the grace of prophecy for his admirable obedience, and was so
   celebrated all the world over that he was by his merits rendered famous
   even among kings of this world. For though, as we said, he lived in the
   most remote parts of the Thebaid, still the Emperor Theodosius did not
   venture to declare war against the most powerful tyrants before he was
   encouraged by his utterances and replies: trusting in which as if they
   had been brought to him from heaven he gained victories over his foes
   in battles which seemed hopeless. [784]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [783] Lycon or Lycopolis in the Thebaid is the modern El Syout on the
   west banks of the Nile, S. E. of Hermopolis ( = Minieh).

   [784] This John of Lycopolis was one of the most celebrated hermits of
   the fourth century. Originally a carpenter, he retired at the age of
   twenty-five into the wilderness, and after the death of his instructor
   settled near Lycopolis. Here, as Cassian tells us, he received as
   reward for his obedience the gift of prophecy, and was consulted by
   crowds who came to him for this purpose and among others by the Emperor
   Theodosius, to whom he foretold (1) his victory over the usurper
   Maximus (a.d. 388), and (2) his success against Eugenius in a.d. 395.
   He is mentioned again by Cassian in the Conferences I. xxi., XXIV.
   xxvi., etc. A full account of him is given by Rufinus in his history of
   the monks c. i. and by Palladius in the Lausiac History 43-60; he is
   also mentioned by Augustine De Civitate Dei, Book V. c. xxvi, De Cura
   pro mortius gerenda, c. xvii., and Jerome Ep. cxxxiii. ad Ctesiphontem,
   as well as by Theodoret H. E. V. xxiv, and Sozomen H. E. VI. xxviii.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIV.

   Of the dry stick which, at the bidding of his senior, Abbot John kept
   on watering as if it would grow.

   And so this blessed John from his youth up even to a full and ripe age
   of manhood was subject to his senior as long as he continued living in
   this world, and carried out his commands with such humility that his
   senior himself was utterly astounded at his obedience; and as he wanted
   to make sure whether this virtue came from genuine faith and profound
   simplicity of heart, or whether it was put on and as it were
   constrained and only shown in the presence of the bidder, he often laid
   upon him many superfluous and almost unnecessary or even impossible
   commands. From which I will select three to show to those who wish to
   know how perfect was his disposition and subjection. For the old man
   took from his woodstack a stick which had previously been cut and got
   ready to make the fire with, and which, as no opportunity for cooking
   had come, was lying not merely dry but even mouldy from the lapse of
   time. And when he had stuck it into the ground before his very eyes, he
   ordered him to fetch water and to water it twice a day that by this
   daily watering it might strike roots and be restored to life as a tree,
   as it was before, and spread out its branches and afford a pleasant
   sight to the eyes as well as a shade for those who sat under it in the
   heat of summer. And this order the lad received with his customary
   veneration, never considering its impossibility, and day by day carried
   it out so that he constantly carried water for nearly two miles and
   never ceased to water the stick; and for a whole year no bodily
   infirmity, no festival services, no necessary business (which might
   fairly have excused him from carrying out the command), and lastly no
   severity of winter could interfere and hinder him from obeying this
   order. And when the old man had watched this zeal of his on the sly
   without saying anything for several days and had seen that he kept this
   command of his with simple willingness of heart, as if it had come from
   heaven, without any change of countenance or consideration of its
   reasonableness--approving the unfeigned obedience of his humility and
   at the same time commiserating his tedious labour which in the zeal of
   his devotion he had continued for a whole year--he came to the dry
   stick, and "John," said he, "has this tree put forth roots or no?" And
   when the other said that he did not know, then the old man as if
   seeking the truth of the matter and trying whether it was yet depending
   on its roots, pulled up the stick before him with a slight disturbance
   of the earth, and throwing it away told him that for the future he
   might stop watering it. [785]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [785] A somewhat similar story is told by Sulpitius Severus (Dialogi I.
   c. xiii.) of an Egyptian monk, only in that case the story terminates
   in a more satisfactory manner, as in the third year the stick took root
   and sprouted!
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXV.

   Of the unique vase of oil thrown away by Abbot John at his senior's
   command.

   Thus the youth, trained up by exercises of this sort, daily increased
   in this virtue of obedience, and shone forth more and more with the
   grace of humility; and when the sweet odour of his obedience spread
   throughout all the monasteries, some of the brethren, coming to the
   elder for the sake of testing him or rather of being edified by him,
   marvelled at his obedience of which they had heard; and so the older
   called him suddenly, and said, "Go up and take this cruse of oil" [786]
   (which was the only one in the desert and which furnished a very scanty
   supply of the rich liquid for their own use and for that of strangers)
   "and throw it down out of window." And he flew up stairs when summoned
   and threw it out of window and cast it down to the ground and broke it
   in pieces without any thought or consideration of the folly of the
   command, or their daily wants, and bodily infirmity, or of their
   poverty, and the trials and difficulties of the wretched desert in
   which, even if they had got the money for it, oil of that quality, once
   lost, could not be procured or replaced.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [786] Lenticula; the word used for a cruse of oil in the Vulgate. 1
   Sam. x. 1; 2 Kings ix. 1, 3.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVI.

   How Abbot John obeyed his senior by trying to roll a huge stone, which
   a large number of men were unable to move.

   Again, when some others were anxious to be edified by the example of
   his obedience, the elder called him and said: "John, run and roll that
   stone hither as quickly as possible;" and he forthwith, applying now
   his neck, and now his whole body, tried with all his might and main to
   roll an enormous stone which a great crowd of men would not be able to
   move, so that not only were his clothes saturated with sweat from his
   limbs, but the stone itself was wetted by his neck; in this too never
   weighing the impossibility of the command and deed, out of reverence
   for the old man and the unfeigned simplicity of his service, as he
   believed implicitly that the old man could not command him to do
   anything vain or without reason.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVII.

   Of the humility and obedience of Abbot Patermucius, [787] which he did
   not hesitate to make perfect by throwing his little boy into the river
   at the command of his senior.

   So far let it suffice for me to have told a few things out of many
   concerning Abbot John: now I will relate a memorable deed of Abbot
   Patermucius. For he, when anxious to renounce the world, remained lying
   before the doors of the monastery for a long time until by his dogged
   persistence he induced them--contrary to all the rules of the
   Coenobia--to receive him together with his little boy who was about
   eight years old. And when they were at last admitted they were at once
   not only committed to the care of different superiors, but also put to
   live in separate cells that the father might not be reminded by the
   constant sight of the little one that out of all his possessions and
   carnal treasures, which he had cast off and renounced, at least his son
   remained to him; and that as he was already taught that he was no
   longer a rich man, so he might also forget the fact that he was a
   father. And that it might be more thoroughly tested whether he would
   make affection and love [788] for his own flesh and blood of more
   account than obedience and Christian mortification (which all who
   renounce the world ought out of love to Christ to prefer), the child
   was on purpose neglected and dressed in rags instead of proper clothes;
   and so covered and disfigured with dirt that he would rather disgust
   than delight the eyes of his father whenever he saw him. And further,
   he was exposed to blows and slaps from different people, which the
   father often saw inflicted without the slightest reason on his innocent
   child under his very eyes, so that he never saw his cheeks without
   their being stained with the dirty marks of tears. And though the child
   was treated thus day after day before his eyes, yet still out of love
   for Christ and the virtue of obedience the father's heart stood firm
   and unmoved. For he no longer regarded him as his own son, as he had
   offered him equally with himself to Christ; nor was he concerned about
   his present injuries, but rather rejoiced because he saw that they were
   endured, not without profit; thinking little of his son's tears, but
   anxious about his own humility and perfection. And when the Superior of
   the Coenobium saw his steadfastness of mind and immovable
   inflexibility, in order thoroughly to prove the constancy of his
   purpose, one day when he had seen the child crying, he pretended that
   he was annoyed with him and told the father to throw him into the
   river. Then he, as if this had been commanded him by the Lord, at once
   snatched up the child as quickly as possible, and carried him in his
   arms to the river's bank to throw him in. And straightway in the
   fervour of his faith and obedience this would have been carried out in
   act, had not some of the brethren been purposely set to watch the banks
   of the river very carefully, and when the child was thrown in, had
   somehow snatched him from the bed of the stream, and prevented the
   command, which was really fulfilled by the obedience and devotion of
   the father, from being consummated in act and result.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [787] Patermucius (Petschenig) or Mucius (Gazaeus); probably a
   different person from the man of this name of whom we read in Rufinus,
   History of the Monks, c. ix., as there is no allusion there to the
   narrative which Cassian gives here, nor any hint that that Patermucius
   had a son.

   [788] Affectionem....charitatem.--Petschenig. The text of Gazaeus reads
   the ablative.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVIII.

   How it was revealed to the Abbot concerning Patermucius that he had
   done the deed of Abraham; and how when the same Abbot died, Patermucius
   succeeded to the charge of the monastery.

   And this man's faith and devotion was so acceptable to God that it was
   immediately approved by a divine testimony. For it was forthwith
   revealed to the Superior that by this obedience of his he had copied
   the deed of the patriarch Abraham. And when shortly afterwards the same
   Abbot of the monastery departed out of this life to Christ, he
   preferred him to all the brethren, and left him as his successor and as
   Abbot to the monastery.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIX.

   Of the obedience of a brother who at the Abbot's bidding carried about
   in public ten baskets and sold them by retail.

   We will also not be silent about a brother whom we knew, who belonged
   to a high family according to the rank of this world, for he was sprung
   from a father who was a count and extremely wealthy, and had been well
   brought up with a liberal education. This man, when he had left his
   parents and fled to the monastery, in order to prove the humility of
   his disposition and the ardour of his faith was at once ordered by his
   superior to load his shoulders with ten baskets (which there was no
   need to sell publicly), and to hawk them about through the streets for
   sale: this condition being attached, so that he might be kept longer at
   the work, viz.: that if any one should chance to want to buy them all
   together, he was not to allow it, but was to sell them to purchasers
   separately. And this he carried out with the utmost zeal, and trampling
   under foot all shame and confusion, out of love for Christ, and for His
   Name's sake, he put the baskets on his shoulders and sold them by
   retail at the price fixed and brought back the money to the monastery;
   not in the least upset by the novelty of so mean and unusual a duty,
   and paying no attention to the indignity of the thing and the splendour
   of his birth, and the disgrace of the sale, as he was aiming at gaining
   through the grace of obedience that humility of Christ which is the
   true nobility.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXX.

   Of the humility of Abbot Pinufius, who left a very famous Coenobium
   over which he presided as Presbyter, and out of the love of subjection
   sought a distant monastery where he could be received as a novice.

   The limits of the book compel us to draw to a close; but the virtue of
   obedience, which holds the first place among other good qualities, will
   not allow us altogether to pass over in silence the deeds of those who
   have excelled by it. Wherefore aptly combining these two together, I
   mean, consulting brevity as well as the wishes and profit of those who
   are in earnest, we will only add one example of humility, which, as it
   was shown by no novice but one already perfect and an Abbot, may not
   only instruct the younger, but also incite the elders to the perfect
   virtue of humility, as they read it. Thus we saw Abbot Pinufius [789]
   who when he was presbyter of a huge Coenobium which is in Egypt not far
   from the city of Panephysis, [790] was held in honour and respect by
   all men out of reverence either for his life or for his age or for his
   priesthood; and when he saw that for this reason he could not practise
   that humility which he longed for with all the ardour of his
   disposition, and had no opportunity of exercising the virtue of
   subjection which he desired, he fled secretly from the Coenobium and
   withdrew alone into the furthest parts of the Thebaid, and there laid
   aside the habit of the monks and assumed a secular dress, and thus
   sought the Coenobium of Tabenna, which he knew to be the strictest of
   all, and in which he fancied that he would not be known owing to the
   distance of the spot, or else that he could easily lie hid there in
   consequence of the size of the monastery and the number of brethren.
   There he remained for a long time at the entrance, and as a suppliant
   at the knees of the brethren sought with most earnest prayers to gain
   admission. And when he was at last with much scorn admitted as a feeble
   old man who had lived all his life in the world, and had asked in his
   old age to be allowed to enter a Coenobium when he could no longer
   gratify his passions,--as they said that he was seeking this not for
   the sake of religion but because he was compelled by hunger and want,
   they gave him the care and management of the garden, as he seemed an
   old man and not specially fitted for any particular work. And this he
   performed under another and a younger brother who kept him by him as
   intrusted to him, and he was so subordinate to him, and cultivated the
   desired virtue of humility so obediently that he daily performed with
   the utmost diligence not only everything that had to do with the care
   and management of the garden, but also all those duties which were
   looked on by the other as hard and degrading, and disagreeable. Rising
   also by night he did many things secretly, without any one looking on
   or knowing it, when darkness concealed him so that no one could
   discover the author of the deed. And when he had hidden himself there
   for three years and had been sought for high and low by the brethren
   all through Egypt, he was at last seen by one who had come from the
   parts of Egypt, but could scarcely be recognized owing to the meanness
   of his dress and the humble character of the duty he was performing.
   For he was stooping down and hoeing the ground for vegetables and
   bringing dung on his shoulders and laying it about their roots. And
   seeing this the brother for a long time hesitated about recognizing
   him, but at last he came nearer, and taking careful note not only of
   his looks but also of the tone of his voice, straightway fell at his
   feet: and at first all who saw it were struck with the greatest
   astonishment why he should do this to one who was looked upon by them
   as the lowest of all, as being a novice and one who had but lately
   forsaken the world: but afterwards they were struck with still greater
   wonder when he forthwith announced his name, which was one that had
   been well known amongst them also by repute. And all the brethren
   asking his pardon for their former ignorance because they had for so
   long classed him with the juniors and children, brought him back to his
   own Coenobium, against his will and in tears because by the envy of the
   devil he had been cheated out of a worthy mode of life and the humility
   which he was rejoicing in having discovered after his long search, and
   because he had not succeeded in ending his life in that state of
   subjection which he had secured. And so they guarded him with the
   utmost care lest he should slip away again in the same sort of way and
   escape from them also.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [789] Cassian repeats this story in the Conferences XX. c. i., as an
   introduction to the Conference "On the End of Penitence and the Marks
   of Satisfaction," which he gives as the work of the said Abbot
   Pinufius.

   [790] Panephysis is more fully described in the Conferences VII. xxvi.;
   XI. iii. It is mentioned by Ptolemy (IV. v. S: 52), but not by any
   other ancient writers. It was situated in the Delta between the
   Champollion with the modern Menzaleh.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXI.

   How when Abbot Pinufius was brought back to his monastery he stayed
   there for a little while and then fled again into the regions of Syrian
   Palestine.

   And when he had stopped there for a little while, again he was seized
   with a longing and desire for humility, and, taking advantage of the
   silence of night, made his escape in such a way that this time he
   sought no neighbouring district, but regions which were unknown and
   strange and separated by a wide distance. For embarking in a ship he
   managed to travel to Palestine, believing that he would more securely
   lie hid if he betook himself to those places in which his name had
   never been heard. And when he had come thither, at once he sought out
   our own monastery [791] which was at no great distance from the cave
   [792] in which our Lord vouchsafed to be born of a virgin. And though
   he concealed himself here for some time, yet like "a city set on an
   hill" [793] (to use our Lord's expression) he could not long be hid.
   For presently some of the brethren who had come to the holy places from
   Egypt to pray there recognized him and recalled him with most fervent
   prayers to his own Coenobium.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [791] On Cassian's connection with the monastery at Bethlehem, see the
   Introduction.

   [792] On the Cave of the Nativity, see Justin Martyr Dialogue with
   Trypho, c. lxxviii. Origen against Celsus, I. c. li.

   [793] S. Matt. v. 14.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXII.

   The charge which the same Abbot Pinufius gave to a brother whom he
   admitted into his monastery in our presence.

   This old man, then, we afterwards diligently sought out in Egypt
   because we had been intimate with him in our own monastery; and I
   propose to insert in this work of mine an exhortation which he gave in
   our presence to a brother whom he admitted into the monastery, because
   I think that it may be useful. You know, said he, that after lying for
   so many days at the entrance you are to-day to be admitted. And to
   begin with you ought to know the reason of the difficulty put in your
   way. For it may be of great service to you in this road on which you
   are desirous to enter, if you understand the method of it and approach
   the service of Christ accordingly, and as you ought.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXIII.

   How it is that, just as a great reward is due to the monk who labours
   according to the regulations of the fathers, so likewise punishment
   must he inflicted on an idle one; and therefore no one should be
   admitted into a monastery too easily.

   For as unbounded glory hereafter is promised to those who faithfully
   serve God and cleave to Him according to the rule of this system; so
   the severest penalties are in store for those who have carried it out
   carelessly and coldly, and have failed to show to Him fruits of
   holiness corresponding to what they professed or what they were
   believed by men to be. For "it is better," as Scripture says, "that a
   man should not vow rather than that he should vow and not pay;" and
   "Cursed is he that doeth the work of the Lord carelessly." [794]
   Therefore you were for a long while declined by us, not as if we did
   not desire with all our hearts to secure your salvation and the
   salvation of all, nor as if we did not care to go to meet even afar off
   those who are longing to be converted to Christ; but for fear lest if
   we received you rashly we might make ourselves guilty in the sight of
   God of levity, and make you incur a yet heavier punishment, if, when
   you had been too easily admitted by us without realizing the
   responsibility of this profession, you had afterwards turned out a
   deserter or lukewarm. Wherefore you ought in the first instance to
   learn the actual reason for the renunciation of the world, and when you
   have seen this, you can be taught more plainly what you ought to do,
   from the reason for it.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [794] Eccl. v. 4 (LXX.); Jer. xlviii. 10 (LXX.).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXIV.

   Of the way in which our renunciation is nothing but mortification and
   the image of the Crucified.

   Renunciation is nothing but the evidence of the cross and of
   mortification. And so you must know that to-day you are dead to this
   world and its deeds and desires, and that, as the Apostle says, you are
   crucified to this world and this world to you. [795] Consider therefore
   the demands of the cross under the sign [796] of which you ought
   henceforward to live in this life; because you no longer live but He
   lives in you who was crucified for you. [797] We must therefore pass
   our time in this life in that fashion and form in which He was
   crucified for us on the cross so that (as David says) piercing our
   flesh with the fear of the Lord, [798] we may have all our wishes and
   desires not subservient to our own lusts but fastened to His
   mortification. For so shall we fulfil the command of the Lord which
   says: "He that taketh not up his cross and followeth me is not worthy
   of me." [799] But perhaps you will say: How can a man carry his cross
   continually? or how can any one who is alive be crucified? Hear briefly
   how this is.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [795] Cf. Gal. vi. 14.

   [796] Sacramentum.

   [797] Cf. Gal. ii. 20.

   [798] Cf. Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 120, where the Gallican Psalter has
   "Confige timore tuo carnes meas."

   [799] S. Matt. x. 38.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXV.

   How the fear of the Lord is our cross.

   The fear of the Lord is our cross. As then one who is crucified no
   longer has the power of moving or turning his limbs in any direction as
   he pleases, so we also ought to affix our wishes and desires--not in
   accordance with what is pleasant and delightful to us now, but in
   accordance with the law of the Lord, where it constrains us. And as he
   who is fastened to the wood of the cross no longer considers things
   present, nor thinks about his likings, nor is perplexed by anxiety and
   care for the morrow, nor disturbed by any desire of possession, nor
   inflamed by any pride or strife or rivalry, grieves not at present
   injuries, remembers not past ones, and while he is still breathing in
   the body considers that he is dead to all earthly things, [800] sending
   the thoughts of his heart on before to that place whither he doubts not
   that he is shortly to come: so we also, when crucified by the fear of
   the Lord ought to be dead indeed to all these things, i.e. not only to
   carnal vices but also to all earthly things, [801] having the eye of
   our minds fixed there whither we hope at each moment that we are soon
   to pass. For in this way we can have all our desires and carnal
   affections mortified.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [800] Elementa.

   [801] Elementa.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXVI.

   How our renunciation of the world is of no use if we are again
   entangled in those things which we have renounced.

   Beware therefore lest at any time you take again any of those things
   which you renounced and forsook, and, contrary to the Lord's command,
   return from the field of evangelical work, and be found to have clothed
   yourself again in your coat which you had stripped off; [802] neither
   sink back to the low and earthly lusts and desires of this world, and
   in defiance of Christ's word come down from the rod of perfection and
   dare to take up again any of those things which you have renounced and
   forsaken. Beware that you remember nothing of your kinsfolk or of your
   former affections, and that you are not called back to the cares and
   anxieties of this world, and (as our Lord says) putting your hand to
   the plough and looking back be found unfit for the kingdom of heaven.
   [803] Beware lest at any time, when you have begun to dip into the
   knowledge of the Psalms and of this life, you be little by little
   puffed up and think of reviving that pride which now at your beginning
   you have trampled under foot in the ardour of faith and in fullest
   humility; and thus (as the Apostle says) building again those things
   which you had destroyed, you make yourself a backslider. [804] But
   rather take heed to continue even to the end in that state of nakedness
   of which you made profession in the sight of God and of his angels. In
   this humility too and patience, with which you persevered for ten days
   before the doors and entreated with many tears to be admitted into the
   monastery, you should not only continue but also increase and go
   forward. For it is too bad that when you ought to be carried on from
   the rudiments and beginnings, and go forward to perfection, you should
   begin to fall back from these to worse things. For not he who begins
   these things, but he who endures in them to the end, shall be saved.
   [805]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [802] Cf. S. Matt. xxiv. 18.

   [803] S. Luke ix. 62.

   [804] Cf. Gal. ii. 18.

   [805] Cf. S. Matt. xxiv. 13.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXVII.

   How the devil always lies in wait for our end, and how we ought
   continually to watch his head. [806]

   For the subtle serpent is ever "watching our heel," that is, is lying
   in wait for the close, and endeavouring to trip us up right to the end
   of our life. And therefore it will not be of any use to have made a
   good beginning and to have eagerly taken the first step towards
   renouncing the world with all fervour, if a corresponding end does not
   likewise set it off and conclude it, and if the humility and poverty of
   Christ, of which you have now made profession in His sight, are not
   preserved by you even to the close of your life, as they were first
   secured. And that you may succeed in doing this, do you ever "watch his
   head," i.e. the first rise of thoughts, by bringing them at once to
   your superior. For thus you will learn to "bruise" his dangerous
   beginnings, if you are not ashamed to disclose any of them to your
   superior.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [806] All through this chapter Cassian is alluding to Gen. iii. 15: "I
   will put enmity between thee and the woman and between thy seed and her
   seed; it shalt bruise thy head and thou shalt bruise his heel:" the
   last clause of which is rendered by the LXX. autos sou teresei kephalen
   kai su tereseis autou pternan, where the Vulgate has "Ipsa conteret
   caput tuum et tu insidiaberis calcaneo ejus."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXVIII.

   Of the renunciant's preparation against temptation, and of the few who
   are worthy of imitation.

   Wherefore, as Scripture says, "when you go forth to serve the Lord
   stand in the fear of the Lord, and prepare your mind" [807] not for
   repose or carelessness or delights, but for temptations and troubles.
   For "through much tribulation we must enter into the kingdom of God."
   For "strait is the gate and narrow is the way which leadeth unto life,
   and few there be which find it." [808] Consider therefore that you
   belong to the few and elect; and do not grow cold after the examples of
   the lukewarmness of many: but live as the few, that with the few you
   may be worthy of a place in the kingdom of God: for "many are called,
   but few chosen," and it is a "little flock to which it is the Father's
   good pleasure to give" [809] an inheritance. You should therefore
   realize that it is no light sin for one who has made profession of
   perfection to follow after what is imperfect. And to this state of
   perfection you may attain by the following steps and in the following
   way.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [807] Ecclus. ii. 1.

   [808] Acts xiv. 22; S. Matt. vii. 14.

   [809] S. Matt. xx. 16; S. Luke xii. 32.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXIX.

   Of the way in which we shall mount towards perfection, whereby we may
   afterwards ascend from the fear of God up to love.

   "The beginning" of our salvation and the safeguard of it is, as I said,
   "the fear of the Lord." [810] For through this those who are trained in
   the way of perfection can gain a start in conversion as well as
   purification from vices and security in virtue. And when this has
   gained an entrance into a man's heart it produces contempt of all
   things, and begets a forgetfulness of kinsfolk and an horror of the
   world itself. But by the contempt for the loss of all possessions
   humility is gained. And humility is attested by these signs: First of
   all if a man has all his desires mortified; secondly, if he conceals
   none of his actions or even of his thoughts from his superior; thirdly,
   if he puts no trust in his own opinion, but all in the judgment of his
   superior, and listens eagerly and willingly to his directions;
   fourthly, if he maintains in everything obedience and gentleness and
   constant patience; fifthly, if he not only hurts nobody else, but also
   is not annoyed or vexed at wrongs done to himself; sixthly, if he does
   nothing and ventures on nothing to which he is not urged by the Common
   Rule or by the example of our elders; seventhly, if he is contented
   with the lowest possible position, and considers himself as a bad
   workman and unworthy in the case of everything enjoined to him;
   eighthly, if he does not only outwardly profess with his lips that he
   is inferior to all, but really believes it in the inmost thoughts of
   his heart; ninthly, if he governs his tongue, and is not over
   talkative; tenthly, if he is not easily moved or too ready to laugh.
   For by such signs and the like is true humility recognised. And when
   this has once been genuinely secured, then at once it leads you on by a
   still higher step to love which knows no fear; [811] and through this
   you begin, without any effort and as it were naturally, to keep up
   everything that you formerly observed not without fear of punishment;
   no longer now from regard of punishment or fear of it but from love of
   goodness itself, and delight in virtue. [812]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [810] Prov. ix. 10.

   [811] Cf. 1 John iv. 18.

   [812] With this chapter there should be compared the Rule of S.
   Benedict c. vii., where a very similar description is given of twelve
   grades "on the mystic ladder [of humility] which Jacob saw," evidently
   suggested by the chapter before us.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XL.

   That the monk should seek for examples of perfection not from many
   instances but from one or a very few.

   And that you may the more easily arrive at this, the examples of the
   perfect life of one dwelling in the congregation, which you may
   imitate, should be sought from a very few or indeed from one or two
   only and not from too many. For apart from the fact that a life which
   is tested and refined and purified is only to be found in a few, there
   is this also to be gained, viz.: that a man is more thoroughly
   instructed and formed by the example of some one, towards the
   perfection which he sets before him, viz.: that of the Coenobite life.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLI.

   The appearance of what infirmities one who lives in a Coenobium ought
   to exhibit. [813]

   And that you may be able to attain all this, and continually remain
   subject to this spiritual rule, you must observe these three things in
   the congregation: viz.: that as the Psalmist says: "I was like a deaf
   man and heard not and as one that is dumb who doth not open his mouth;
   and I became as a man that heareth not, and in whose mouth there are no
   reproofs," [814] so you also should walk as one that is deaf and dumb
   and blind, so that--putting aside the contemplation of him who has been
   rightly chosen by you as your model of perfection--you should be like a
   blind man and not see any of those things which you find to be
   unedifying, nor [815] be influenced by the authority or fashion of
   those who do these things, and give yourself up to what is worse and
   what you formerly condemned. If you hear any one disobedient or
   insubordinate or disparaging another or doing anything different from
   what was taught to you, you should not go wrong and be led astray by
   such an example to imitate him; but, "like a deaf man," as if you had
   never heard it, you should pass it all by. If insults are offered to
   you or to any one else, or wrongs done, be immovable, and as far as an
   answer in retaliation is concerned be silent "as one that is dumb,"
   always singing in your heart this verse of the Psalmist: "I said I will
   take heed to my ways that I offend not with my tongue. I set a guard to
   my mouth when the sinner stood before me. I was dumb and was humbled
   and kept silence from good things." [816] But cultivate above
   everything this fourth thing which adorns and graces those three of
   which we have spoken above; viz.: make yourself, as the Apostle
   directs, [817] a fool in this world that you may become wise,
   exercising no discrimination and judgment of your own on any of those
   matters which are commanded to you, but always showing obedience with
   all simplicity and faith, judging that alone to be holy, useful, and
   wise which God's law or the decision of your superior declares to you
   to be such. For built up on such a system of instruction you may
   continue forever under this discipline, and not fall away from the
   monastery in consequence of any temptations or devices of the enemy.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [813] Quarum debilitatum similitudinem suscipere debeat qui in coenobio
   commoratur.--Petschenig. The text of Gazaeus gives as the title of this
   chapter: "In congregatione coenobitica constituti quid tolerare ac
   sustinere debeant."

   [814] Ps. xxxvii. (xxxviii.) 14, 15.

   [815] Nec (Petschenig). Gazaeus reads ne.

   [816] Ps. xxxviii. (xxxix.) 2, 3.

   [817] Cf. 1 Cor. iii. 18.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLII.

   How a monk should not look for the blessing of patience in his own case
   as a result of the virtue of others, but rather as a consequence of his
   own longsuffering.

   You should therefore not look for patience in your own case from the
   virtue of others, thinking that then only can you secure it when you
   are not irritated by any (for it is not in your own power to prevent
   this from happening); but rather you should look for it as the
   consequence of your own humility and long-suffering which does depend
   on your own will.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLIII.

   Recapitulation of the explanation how a monk can mount up towards
   perfection.

   And in order that all these things which have been set forth in a
   somewhat lengthy discourse may be more easily stamped on your heart and
   may stick in your thoughts with all tenacity, I will make a summary of
   them so that you may be able to learn all the changes by heart by
   reason of their brevity and conciseness. Hear then in few words how you
   can mount up to the heights of perfection without an effort or
   difficulty. "The beginning" of our salvation and "of wisdom" is,
   according to Scripture, "the fear of the Lord." [818] From the fear of
   the Lord arises salutary compunction. From compunction of heart springs
   renunciation, i.e. nakedness and contempt of all possessions. From
   nakedness is begotten humility; from humility the mortification of
   desires. Through mortification of desires all faults are extirpated and
   decay. By driving out faults virtues shoot up and increase. By the
   budding of virtues purity of heart is gained. By purity of heart the
   perfection of apostolic love is acquired.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [818] Ps. cxi. 10.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Book V.

    Of the Spirit of Gluttony.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   The transition from the Institutes of the monks to the struggle against
   the eight principal faults.

   This fifth book of ours is now by the help of God to be produced. For
   after the four books which have been composed on the customs of the
   monasteries, we now propose, being strengthened by God through your
   prayers, to approach the struggle against the eight principal faults,
   i.e. first, Gluttony or the pleasures of the palate; secondly,
   Fornication; thirdly, Covetousness, which means Avarice, or, as it may
   more properly be called, the love of money, fourthly, Anger; fifthly,
   Dejection; sixthly, "Accidie," [819] which is heaviness or weariness of
   heart; seventhly, kenodoxia which means foolish or vain glory;
   eighthly, pride. And on entering upon this difficult task we need your
   prayers, O most blessed Pope Castor, more than ever; that we may be
   enabled in the first place worthily to investigate the nature of these
   in all points however trifling or hidden or obscure: and next to
   explain with sufficient clearness the causes of them and thirdly to
   bring forward fitly the cures and remedies for them.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [819] Acedia. It is much to be regretted that the old English word
   "Accidie" has entirely dropped out of use. It is used by Chaucer and
   other early writers for the sin of spiritual sloth or sluggishness. See
   "The Persone's Tale," where it is thus described: "After the sinne of
   wrath, now wol I speke of the sinne of accidie or slouth: for envie
   blindeth the herte of a man, and ire troubleth a man, and accidie
   maketh him hevy, thoughtful, and wrawe. Envie and ire maken bitternesse
   in herte, which bitternesse is mother of accidie, and benimeth him the
   love of alle goodnesse; than is accidie the anguish of a troubled
   herte." The English word lingered on till the seventeenth century, as
   it is used by Bishop Hall (Serm.V. 140), in the form "Acedy," which is
   etymologically more correct as being nearer the Latin Acedia and the
   Greek  'Akedia, a word which occurs in the LXX. version of the Old
   Testament in Isaiah lxi. 3; Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 28; Baruch iii. 1;
   Ecclus. xxix. 6 (cf. the use of the verb akediazo in Ps. lx. (lxi.) 2;
   ci. (cii.) 1; cxlii. (cxliii.) 4; Ecclus. xxii. 14). In ecclesiastical
   writers the term Acedia is a favourite one to denote primarily the
   mental prostration induced by fasting and other physical causes, and
   afterwards spiritual sloth and sluggishness in general. It forms the
   subject of the tenth book of the Institutes, and is treated of again by
   Cassian in the Conferences V. iii. sq., cf. also the "Summa" of S.
   Thomas, II. ii. q. xxxv., where there is a full discussion of its
   nature and character.--cf. Dr. Paget's essay "Concerning Accidie" in
   "The Spirit of Discipline."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   How the occasions of these faults, being found in everybody, are
   ignored by everybody; and how we need the Lord's help to make them
   plain.

   And of these passions as the occasions are recognized by everybody as
   soon as they are laid open by the teaching of the elders, so before
   they are revealed, although we are all overcome by them, and they exist
   in every one, yet nobody knows of them. But we trust that we shall be
   able in some measure to explain them, if by your prayers that word of
   the Lord, which was announced by Isaiah, may apply to us also--"I will
   go before thee, and bring low the mighty ones of the land, I will break
   the gates of brass, and cut asunder the iron bars, and I will open to
   thee concealed treasures and hidden secrets" [820] --so that the word
   of the Lord may go before us also, and first may bring low the mighty
   ones of our land, i.e. these same evil passions which we are desirous
   to overcome, and which claim for themselves dominion and a most
   horrible tyranny in our mortal body; and may make them yield to our
   investigation and explanation, and thus breaking the gates of our
   ignorance, and cutting asunder the bars of vices which shut us out from
   true knowledge, may lead to the hidden things of our secrets, and
   reveal to us who have been illuminated, according to the Apostle's
   word, "the hidden things of darkness, and may make manifest the
   counsels of the hearts," [821] that thus penetrating with pure eyes of
   the mind to the foul darkness of vices, we may be able to disclose them
   and drag them forth to light; and may succeed in explaining their
   occasions and natures to those who are either free from them, or are
   still tied and bound by them, and so passing as the prophet says, [822]
   through the fire of vices which terribly inflame our minds, we may be
   able forthwith to pass also through the water of virtues which
   extinguish them unharmed, and being bedewed (as it were) with spiritual
   remedies may be found worthy to be brought in purity of heart to the
   consolations of perfection.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [820] Isa. xlv. 2, 3.

   [821] 1 Cor. iv. 5.

   [822] Ps. lxv. (lxvi.) 12.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   How our first struggle must be against the spirit of gluttony, i.e. the
   pleasures of the palate.

   And so the first conflict we must enter upon is that against gluttony,
   which we have explained as the pleasures of the palate: and in the
   first place as we are going to speak of the system of fasts, and the
   quality of food, we must again recur to the traditions and customs of
   the Egyptians, as everybody knows that they contain a more advanced
   discipline in the matter of self-control, and a perfect method of
   discrimination.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   The testimony of Abbot Antony in which he teaches that each virtue
   ought to be sought for from him who professes it in a special degree.

   For it is an ancient and excellent saying of the blessed Antony [823]
   that when a monk is endeavouring after the plan of the monastic life to
   reach the heights of a more advanced perfection, and, having learned
   the consideration of discretion, is able now to stand in his own
   judgment, and to arrive at the very summit of the anchorite's life, he
   ought by no means to seek for all kinds of virtues from one man however
   excellent. For one is adorned with flowers of knowledge, another is
   more strongly fortified with methods of discretion, another is
   established in the dignity of patience, another excels in the virtue of
   humility, another in that of continence, another is decked with the
   grace of simplicity. This one excels all others in magnanimity, that
   one in pity, another in vigils, another in silence, another in
   earnestness of work. And therefore the monk who desires to gather
   spiritual honey, ought like a most careful bee, to suck out virtue from
   those who specially possess it, and should diligently store it up in
   the vessel of his own breast: nor should he investigate what any one is
   lacking in, but only regard and gather whatever virtue he has. For if
   we want to gain all virtues from some one person, we shall with great
   difficulty or perhaps never at all find suitable examples for us to
   imitate. For though we do not as yet see that even Christ is made "all
   things in all," as the Apostle says; [824] still in this way we can
   find Him bit by bit in all. For it is said of Him, "Who was made of God
   to you wisdom and righteousness and sanctification and redemption."
   [825] While then in one there is found wisdom, in another
   righteousness, in another sanctification, in another kindness, in
   another chastity, in another humility, in another patience, Christ is
   at the present time divided, member by member, among all of the saints.
   But when all come together into the unity of the faith and virtue, He
   is formed into the "perfect man," [826] completing the fulness of His
   body, in the joints and properties of all His members. Until then that
   time arrives when God will be "all in all," for the present God can in
   the way of which we have spoken be "in all," through particular
   virtues, although He is not yet "all in all" through the fulness of
   them. For although our religion has but one end and aim, yet there are
   different ways by which we approach God, as will be more fully shown in
   the Conferences of the Elders. [827] And so we must seek a model of
   discretion and continence more particularly from those from whom we see
   that those virtues flow forth more abundantly through the grace of the
   Holy Spirit; not that any one can alone acquire those things which are
   divided among many, but in order that in those good qualities of which
   we are capable we may advance towards the imitation of those who
   especially have acquired them.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [823] S. Antony, the "founder of asceticism" and one of the most famous
   of the early monks, was born about 250 a.d. at Coma, on the borders of
   Egypt, and died about 355, at the great age of 105. He is frequently
   mentioned by Cassian in the Conferences.

   [824] 1 Cor. xv. 28.

   [825] 1 Cor. i. 30.

   [826] Eph. iv. 13.

   [827] See especially Conferences XVIII. and XIX.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   That one and the same rule of fasting cannot be observed by everybody.

   And so on the manner of fasting a uniform rule cannot easily be
   observed, because everybody has not the same strength; nor is it like
   the rest of the virtues, acquired by steadfastness of mind alone. And
   therefore, because it does not depend only on mental firmness, since it
   has to do with the possibilities of the body, we have received this
   explanation concerning it which has been handed down to us, viz.: that
   there is a difference of time, manner, and quality of the refreshment
   in proportion to the difference of condition of the body, the age, and
   sex: but that there is one and the same rule of restraint to everybody
   as regards continence of mind, and the virtue of the spirit. For it is
   impossible for every one to prolong his fast for a week, or to postpone
   taking refreshment during a two or three days' abstinence. By many
   people also who are worn out with sickness and especially with old age,
   a fast even up to sunset cannot be endured without suffering. The
   sickly food of moistened beans does not agree with everybody: nor does
   a sparing diet of fresh vegetables suit all, nor is a scanty meal of
   dry bread permitted to all alike. One man does not feel satisfied with
   two pounds, for another a meal of one pound, or six ounces, is too
   much; but there is one aim and object of continence in the case of all
   of these, viz.: that no one may be overburdened beyond the measure of
   his appetite, by gluttony. For it is not only the quality, but also the
   quantity of food taken which dulls the keenness of the mind, and when
   the soul as well as the flesh is surfeited, kindles the baneful and
   fiery incentive to vice.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   That the mind is not intoxicated by wine alone.

   The belly when filled with all kinds of food gives birth to seeds of
   wantonness, nor can the mind, when choked with the weight of food, keep
   the guidance and government of the thoughts. For not only is
   drunkenness with wine wont to intoxicate the mind, but excess of all
   kinds of food makes it weak and uncertain, and robs it of all its power
   of pure and clear contemplation. The cause of the overthrow and
   wantonness of Sodom was not drunkenness through wine, but fulness of
   bread. Hear the Lord rebuking Jerusalem through the prophet. "For how
   did thy sister Sodom sin, except in that she ate her bread in fulness
   and abundance?" [828] And because through fulness of bread they were
   inflamed with uncontrollable lust of the flesh, they were burnt up by
   the judgment of God with fire and brimstone from heaven. But if excess
   of bread alone drove them to such a headlong downfall into sin through
   the vice of satiety, what shall we think of those who with a vigorous
   body dare to partake of meat and wine with unbounded licence, taking
   not just what their bodily frailty demands, but what the eager desire
   of the mind suggests.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [828] Ezek. xvi. 49.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   How bodily weakness need not interfere with purity of heart.

   Bodily weakness is no hindrance to purity of heart, if only so much
   food is taken as the bodily weakness requires, and not what pleasure
   asks for. It is easier to find men who altogether abstain from the more
   fattening kinds of foods than men who make a moderate use of what is
   allowed to our necessities; and men who deny themselves everything out
   of love of continence than men who taking food on the plea of weakness
   preserve the due measure of what is sufficient. [829] For bodily
   weakness has its glory of self-restraint, where though food is
   permitted to the failing body, a man deprives himself of his
   refreshment. although he needs it, and only indulges in just so much
   food as the strict judgment of temperance decides to be sufficient for
   the necessities of life, and not what the longing appetite asks for.
   The more delicate foods, as they conduce to bodily health, so they need
   not destroy the purity of chastity, if they are taken in moderation.
   For whatever strength [830] is gained by partaking of them is used up
   in the toil and waste of care. Wherefore as no state of life can be
   deprived of the virtue of abstinence, so to none is the crown of
   perfection denied.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [829] Petschenig's text in this passage is as follows: "Facilius
   vidimus viros qui ab escis corpulentioribus omnimodis temperarent, quam
   moderate usos pro necessitate concessis, et qui totum sibi pro amore
   continentiae denegarent, quam qui eas sub infirmitatis occasione
   sumentes mensuram sufficientiae custodirent." Gazaeus gives something
   quite different: "Facilius vidimus victos qui ab escis corpulentioribus
   omnimodis temperarent, quas moderate usus pro necessitate concedit, et
   qui totum sibi pro continentiae amore denegarent; quam qui eas sub
   infirmitatis occasione sumentes mensuram sufficientiae custodirent."

   [830] Quidquid enim fortitudinis.--Petschenig. Gazaeus has "Quid quid
   enim fortitudinis causa."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   How food should be taken with regard to the aim at perfect continence.
   [831]

   And so it is a very true and most excellent saying of the Fathers that
   the right method of fasting and abstinence lies in the measure of
   moderation and bodily chastening; and that this is the aim of perfect
   virtue for all alike, viz.: that though we are still forced to desire
   it, yet we should exercise self-restraint in the matter of the food,
   which we are obliged to take owing to the necessity of supporting the
   body. For even if one is weak in body, he can attain to a perfect
   virtue and one equal to that of those who are thoroughly strong and
   healthy, if with firmness of mind he keeps a check upon the desires and
   lusts which are not due to weakness of the flesh. For the Apostle says:
   "And take not care for the flesh in its lusts." [832] He does not
   forbid care for it in every respect: but says that care is not to be
   taken in regard to its desires and lusts. He cuts away the luxurious
   fondness for the flesh: he does not exclude the control necessary for
   life: he does the former, lest through pampering the flesh we should be
   involved in dangerous entanglements of the desires; the latter lest the
   body should be injured by our fault and unable to fulfil its spiritual
   and necessary duties.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [831] Quod pro perfectae continentiae fine esca sumenda
   sit.--Petschenig. Quomodo cibum appetere, ac sumere liceat is the title
   as given by Gazaeus.

   [832] Rom. xiii. 14.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   Of the measure of the chastisement to be undertaken, and the remedy of
   fasting.

   The perfection then of abstinence is not to be gathered from
   calculations of time alone, nor only from the quality of the food; but
   beyond everything from the judgment of conscience. For each one should
   impose such a sparing diet on himself as the battle of his bodily
   struggle may require. The canonical observance of fasts is indeed
   valuable and by all means to be kept. But unless this is followed by a
   temperate partaking of food, one will not be able to arrive at the goal
   of perfection. For the abstinence of prolonged fasts--where repletion
   of body follows--produces weariness for a time rather than purity and
   chastity. Perfection of mind indeed depends upon the abstinence of the
   belly. He has no lasting purity and chastity, who is not contented
   always to keep to a well-balanced and temperate diet. Fasting, although
   severe, yet if unnecessary relaxation follows, is rendered useless, and
   presently leads to the vice of gluttony. A reasonable supply of food
   partaken of daily with moderation, is better than a severe and long
   fast at intervals. Excessive fasting has been known not only to
   undermine the constancy of the mind, but also to weaken the power of
   prayers through sheer weariness of body.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   That abstinence from food is not of itself sufficient for preservation
   of bodily and mental purity.

   In order to preserve the mind and body in a perfect condition
   abstinence from food is not alone sufficient: unless the other virtues
   of the mind as well are joined to it. And so humility must first be
   learned by the virtue of obedience, and grinding toil [833] and bodily
   exhaustion. The possession of money must not only be avoided, but the
   desire for it must be utterly rooted out. For it is not enough not to
   possess it,--a thing which comes to many as a matter of necessity: but
   we ought, if by chance it is offered, not even to admit the wish to
   have it. The madness of anger should be controlled; the downcast look
   of dejection be overcome; vainglory should be despised, the
   disdainfulness of pride trampled under foot, and the shifting and
   wandering thoughts of the mind restrained by continual recollection of
   God. And the slippery wanderings of our heart should be brought back
   again to the contemplation of God as often as our crafty enemy, in his
   endeavour to lead away the mind a captive from this consideration,
   creeps into the innermost recesses of the heart.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [833] Operis contritione (Petschenig): cordis contritione (Gazaeus).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   That bodily lusts are not extinguished except by the entire rooting out
   of vice.

   For it is an impossibility that the fiery motions of the body can be
   extinguished, before the incentives of the other chief vices are
   utterly rooted out: concerning which we will speak in their proper
   place, if God permits, separately, in different books.  But now we have
   to deal with Gluttony, that is the desire of the palate, against which
   our first battle is. He then will never be able to check the motions of
   a burning lust, who cannot restrain the desires of the appetite. The
   chastity of the inner man is shown by the perfection of this virtue.
   For you will never feel sure that he can strive against the opposition
   of a stronger enemy, whom you have seen overcome by weaker ones in a
   higher conflict. For of all virtues the nature is but one and the same,
   although they appear to be divided into many different kinds and names:
   just as there is but one substance of gold, although it may seem to be
   distributed through many different kinds of jewelry according to the
   skill of the goldsmith. And so he is proved to possess no virtue
   perfectly, who is known to have broken down in some part of them. For
   how can we believe that that man has extinguished the burning heats of
   concupiscence (which are kindled not only by bodily incitement but by
   vice of the mind), who could not assuage the sharp stings of anger
   which break out from intemperance of heart alone? Or how can we think
   that he has repressed the wanton desires of the flesh and spirit, who
   has not been able to conquer the simple fault of pride? Or how can we
   believe that one has trampled under foot a wantonness which is
   ingrained in the flesh, who has not been able to disown the love of
   money, which is something external and outside our own substance? In
   what way will he triumph in the war of flesh and spirit, who has not
   been man enough to cure the disease of dejection? However great a city
   may be protected by the height of its walls and the strength of its
   closed gates, yet it is laid waste by the giving up of one postern
   however small. For what difference does it make whether a dangerous foe
   makes his way into the heart of the city over high walls, and through
   the wide spaces of the gate, or through secret and narrow passages?
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   That in our spiritual contest we ought to draw an example from the
   carnal contests.

   "One who strives in the games is not crowned unless he has contended
   lawfully." [834] One who wants to extinguish the natural desires of the
   flesh, should first hasten to overcome those vices whose seat is
   outside our nature. For if we desire to make trial of the force of the
   Apostle's saying, we ought first to learn what are the laws and what
   the discipline of the world's contest, so that finally by a comparison
   with these, we may be able to know what the blessed Apostle meant to
   teach to us who are striving in a spiritual contest by this
   illustration. For in these conflicts, which, as the same Apostle says,
   hold out "a corruptible crown" [835] to the victors, this rule is kept,
   that he who aims at preparing himself for the crown of glory, which is
   embellished with the privilege of exemption, and who is anxious to
   enter the highest struggle in the contest, should first in the Olympic
   and Pythian games give evidence of his abilities as a youth, and his
   strength in its first beginnings; since in these the younger men who
   want to practise this training are tested as to whether they deserve or
   ought to be admitted to it, by the judgment both of the president of
   the games and of the whole multitude. And when any one has been
   carefully tested, and has first been proved to be stained by no infamy
   of life, and then has been adjudged not ignoble through the yoke of
   slavery, and for this reason unworthy to be admitted to this training
   and to the company of those who practise it, and when thirdly he
   produces sufficient evidence of his ability and prowess and by striving
   with the younger men and his own compeers has shown both his skill and
   valour as a youth, and going forward from the contests of boys has been
   by the scrutiny of the president permitted to mix with full-grown men
   and those of approved experience, and has not only shown himself their
   equal in valour by constant striving with them, but has also many a
   time carried off the prize of victory among them, then at last he is
   allowed to approach the most illustrious conflict of the games,
   permission to contend in which is granted to none but victors and those
   who are decked with many crowns and prizes. If we understand this
   illustration from a carnal contest, we ought by a comparison with it to
   know what is the system and method of our spiritual conflict as well.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [834] 2 Tim. ii. 5.

   [835] 1 Cor. ix. 25.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   That we cannot enter the battle of the inner man unless we have been
   set free from the vice of gluttony.

   We also ought first to give evidence of our freedom from subjection to
   the flesh. For "of whom a man is overcome, of the same is he the
   slave." [836] And "every one that doeth sin is the slave of sin." [837]
   And when the scrutiny of the president of the contest finds that we are
   stained by no infamy of disgraceful lust, and when we are judged by him
   not to be slaves of the flesh, and ignoble and unworthy of the Olympic
   struggle against our vices, then we shall be able to enter the lists
   against our equals, that is the lusts of the flesh and the motions and
   disturbances of the soul. For it is impossible for a full belly to make
   trial of the combat of the inner man: nor is he worthy to be tried in
   harder battles, who can be overcome in a slight skirmish.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [836] 2 Pet. ii. 19.

   [837] John viii. 34.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   How gluttonous desires can be overcome.

   First then we must trample under foot gluttonous desires, and to this
   end the mind must be reduced not only by fasting, but also by vigils,
   by reading, and by frequent compunction of heart for those things in
   which perhaps it recollects that it has been deceived or overcome,
   sighing at one time with horror at sin, at another time inflamed with
   the desire of perfection and saintliness: until it is fully occupied
   and possessed by such cares and meditations, and recognizes the
   participation of food to be not so much a concession to pleasure, as a
   burden laid upon it; and considers it to be rather a necessity for the
   body than anything desirable for the soul. And, preserved by this zeal
   of mind and continual compunction, we shall beat down the wantonness of
   the flesh (which becomes more proud and haughty by being fomented with
   food) and its dangerous incitement, and so by the copiousness of our
   tears and the weeping of our heart we shall succeed in extinguishing
   the fiery furnace of our body, which is kindled by the Babylonish king
   [838] who continually furnishes us with opportunities for sin, and
   vices with which we burn more fiercely, instead of naphtha and
   pitch--until, through the grace of God, instilled like dew by His
   Spirit in our hearts, the heats of fleshly lusts can be altogether
   deadened. This then is our first contest, this is as it were our first
   trial in the Olympic games, to extinguish the desires of the palate and
   the belly by the longing for perfection. On which account we must not
   only trample down all unnecessary desire for food by the contemplation
   of the virtues, but also must take what is necessary for the support of
   nature, not without anxiety of heart, as if it were opposed to
   chastity. And so at length we may enter on the course of our life, so
   that there may be no time in which we feel that we are recalled from
   our spiritual studies, further than when we are obliged by the weakness
   of the body to descend for the needful care of it. And when we are
   subjected to this necessity--of attending to the wants of life rather
   than the desires, of the soul--we should hasten to withdraw as quickly
   as possible from it, as if it kept us back from really health-giving
   studies. For we cannot possibly scorn the gratification of food
   presented to us, unless the mind is fixed on the contemplation of
   divine things, and is the rather entranced with the love of virtue and
   the delight of things celestial. And so a man will despise all things
   present as transitory, when he has securely fixed his mental gaze on,
   those things which are immovable and eternal, and already contemplates
   in heart--though still in the flesh--the blessedness of his future
   life.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [838] Cf. Dan. iii. 6; and see below Book VI. c. xvii. where Cassian
   once more speaks of the devil as the Babylonish king.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   How a monk must always be eager to preserve his purity of heart.

   It is like the case when one endeavours to strike some mighty prize of
   virtue on high, pointed out by some very small mark; with the keenest
   eyesight he points the aim of his dart, knowing that large rewards of
   glory and prizes depend on his hitting it; and he turns away his gaze
   from every other consideration, and must direct it thither, where he
   sees that the reward and prize is placed, because he would be sure to
   lose the prize of his skill and the reward of his prowess if the
   keenness of his gaze should be diverted ever so little. [839]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [839] Compare a similar illustration in the Conferences I. v.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   How, after the fashion of the Olympic games, a monk should not attempt
   spiritual conflicts unless he has won battles over the flesh.

   And so when the desires of the belly and of the palate have been by
   these considerations overcome, and when we have been declared, as in
   the Olympic contests, neither slaves of the flesh nor infamous through
   the brand of sin, we shall be adjudged to be worthy of the contest in
   higher struggles as well, and, leaving behind lessons of this kind, may
   be believed capable of entering the lists against spiritual
   wickednesses, against which only victors and those who are allowed to
   contend in a spiritual conflict are deemed worthy to struggle. For this
   is so to speak a most solid foundation of all the conflicts, viz.: that
   in the first instance the impulses of carnal desires should be
   destroyed. For no one can lawfully strive unless his own flesh has been
   overcome. And one who does not strive lawfully certainly cannot take a
   share in the contest, nor win a crown of glory and the grace of
   victory. But if we have been overcome in this battle, having been
   proved as it were slaves of carnal lusts, and thus displaying the
   tokens neither of freedom nor of strength, we shall be straightway
   repulsed from the conflicts with spiritual hosts, as unworthy and as
   slaves, with every mark of confusion. For "every one that doeth sin is
   the servant of sin." [840] And this will be addressed to us by the
   blessed Apostle, together with those among whom fornication is named.
   "Temptation does not overtake you, except such as is human." [841] For
   if we do not seek for strength of mind [842] we shall not deserve to
   make trial of severer contest against wickedness on high, if we have
   been unable to subdue our weak flesh which resists the spirit. And some
   not understanding this testimony of the Apostle, have read the
   subjunctive instead of the indicative mood, i.e., "Let no temptation
   overcome you, except such as is human." [843] But it is clear that it
   is rather said by him with the meaning not of a wish but of a
   declaration or rebuke.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [840] S. John viii. 34.

   [841] 1 Cor. x. 13.

   [842] Mentis robore non quoesito.--Petschenig. Gazaeus omits the
   negative and reads conquisito.

   [843] S. Jerome's version, which was certainly know to Cassian (cf.
   Conferences XXIII. viii.) has "Temptatio vos non apprehendat nisi
   humana."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   That the foundation and basis of the spiritual combat must be laid in
   the struggle against gluttony.

   Would you like to hear a true athlete of Christ striving according to
   the rules and laws of the conflict? "I," said he, "so run, not as
   uncertainly; I so fight, not as one that beateth the air: but I
   chastise my body and bring it into subjection, lest by any means when I
   have preached to others I myself should be a castaway." [844] You see
   how he made the chief part of the struggle depend upon himself, that is
   upon his flesh, as if on a most sure foundation, and placed the result
   of the battle simply in the chastisement of the flesh and the
   subjection of his body. "I then so run not as uncertainly." He does not
   run uncertainly, because, [845] looking to the heavenly Jerusalem, he
   has a mark set, towards which his heart is swiftly directed without
   swerving. He does not run uncertainly, because, "forgetting those
   things which are behind, he reaches forth to those that are before,
   pressing towards the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in
   Christ Jesus," [846] whither he ever directs his mental gaze, and
   hastening towards it with all speed [847] of heart, proclaims with
   confidence, "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I
   have kept the faith." [848] And because he knows he has run unweariedly
   "after the odour of the ointment" [849] of Christ with ready devotion
   of heart, and has won the battle of the spiritual combat by the
   chastisement of the flesh, he boldly concludes and says, "Henceforth
   there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the
   righteous judge, will give to me in that day." And that he might open
   up to us also a like hope of reward, if we desire to imitate him in the
   struggle of his course, he added: "But not to me only, but to all also
   who love His coming;" [850] declaring that we shall be sharers of his
   crown in the day of judgment, if we love the coming of Christ--not that
   one only which will be manifest to men even against their will; but
   also this one which daily comes to pass in holy souls--and if we gain
   the victory in the fight by chastising the body. And of this coming it
   is that the Lord speaks in the Gospel. "I," says He, "and my Father
   will come to him, and will make our abode with him." [851] And again:
   "Behold, I stand at the door and knock: if any man hear my voice and
   open the gate, I will come in to him and will sup with him, and he with
   me." [852]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [844] 1 Cor. ix. 26, 27.

   [845] Quia (Petschenig): Qui (Gazaeus).

   [846] Phil. iii. 13, 14.

   [847] Properatione, others Praeparatione.

   [848] 2 Tim. iv. 7.

   [849] Cant. i. 3.

   [850] 2 Tim. iv. 8.

   [851] John xiv. 23.

   [852] Rev. iii. 20.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   Of the number of different conflicts and victories through which the
   blessed Apostle ascended to the crown of the highest combat.

   But he does not mean that he has only finished the contest of a race
   when he says "I so run, not as uncertainly" (a phrase which has more
   particularly to do with the intention of the mind and fervour of his
   spirit, in which he followed Christ with all zeal, crying out with the
   Bride, "We will run after thee for the odour of thine ointments;" [853]
   and again, "My soul cleaveth unto thee:" [854] but he also testifies
   that he has conquered in another kind of contest, saying, "So fight I,
   not as one that beateth the air, but I chastise my body and bring it
   into subjection." And this properly has to do with the pains of
   abstinence, and bodily fasting and affliction of the flesh: as he means
   by this that he is a vigorous bruiser of his own flesh, and points out
   that not in vain has he planted his blows of continence against it; but
   that he has gained a battle triumph by mortifying his own body; for
   when it is chastised with the blows of continence and struck down with
   the boxing-gloves of fasting, he has secured for his victorious spirit
   the crown of immortality and the prize of incorruption. You see the
   orthodox method of the contest, and consider the issue of spiritual
   combats: how the athlete of Christ having gained a victory over the
   rebellious flesh, having cast it as it were under his feet, is carried
   forward as triumphing on high. And therefore "he does not run
   uncertainly," because he trusts that he will forthwith enter the holy
   city, the heavenly Jerusalem. He "so fights," that is with fasts and
   humiliation of the flesh, "not as one that beateth the air," that is,
   striking into space with blows of continence, through which he struck
   not the empty air, but those spirits who inhabit it, by the
   chastisement of his body. For one who says "not as one that beateth the
   air," shows that he strikes--not empty and void air, but certain beings
   in the air. And because he had overcome in this kind of contest, and
   marched on enriched with the rewards of many crowns, not undeservedly
   does he begin to enter the lists against still more powerful foes, and
   having triumphed over his former rivals, he boldly makes proclamation
   and says, "Now our striving is not against flesh and blood, but against
   principalities, against powers, against world-rulers of this darkness,
   against spiritual wickedness in heavenly places." [855]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [853] Cant. i. 3.

   [854] Ps. lxii. (lxiii.) 9.

   [855] Eph. vi. 12.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   That the athlete of Christ, so long as he is in the body, is never
   without a battle.

   The athlete of Christ, as long as he is in the body, is never in want
   of a victory to be gained in contests: but in proportion as he grows by
   triumphant successes, so does a severer kind of struggle confront him.
   For when the flesh is subdued and conquered, what swarms of foes, what
   hosts of enemies are incited by his triumphs and rise up against the
   victorious soldier of Christ! for fear lest in the ease of peace the
   soldier of Christ might relax his efforts and begin to forget the
   glorious struggles of his contests, and be rendered slack through the
   idleness which is caused by immunity from danger, and be cheated of the
   reward of his prizes and the recompense of his triumphs. And so if we
   want to rise with ever-growing virtue to these stages of triumph we
   ought also in the same way to enter the lists of battle and begin by
   saying with the Apostle: "I so fight, not as one that beateth the air,
   but I chastise my body and bring it into subjection," [856] that when
   this conflict is ended we may once more be able to say with him: "we
   wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities,
   against powers, against world-rulers of this darkness, against
   spiritual wickedness in heavenly places." [857] For otherwise we cannot
   possibly join battle with them nor deserve to make trial of spiritual
   combats if we are baffled in a carnal contest, and smitten down in a
   struggle with the belly: and deservedly will it be said of us by the
   Apostle in the language of blame: "Temptation does not overtake you,
   except what is common to man." [858]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [856] 1 Cor. ix. 26, 27.

   [857] Eph. vi. 12.

   [858] 1 Cor. x. 13.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   How a monk should not overstep the proper hours for taking food, if he
   wants to proceed to the struggle of interior conflicts.

   A monk therefore who wants to proceed to the struggle of interior
   conflicts should lay down this as a precaution for himself to begin
   with: viz.: that he will not in any case allow himself to be overcome
   by any delicacies, or take anything to eat or drink before the fast
   [859] is over and the proper hour for refreshment has come, outside
   meal times; [860] nor, when the meal is over, will he allow himself to
   take a morsel however small; and likewise that he will observe the
   canonical time and measure of sleep. For that self-indulgence must be
   cut off in the same way that the sin of unchastity has to be rooted
   out. For if a man is unable to check the unnecessary desires of the
   appetite how will he be able to extinguish the fire of carnal lust? And
   if a man is not able to control passions, which are openly manifest and
   are but small, how will he be able with temperate discretion to fight
   against those which are secret, and excite him, when none are there to
   see? And therefore strength of mind is tested in separate impulses and
   in any sort of passion: and if it is overcome in the case of very small
   and manifest desires, how it will endure in those that are really great
   and powerful and hidden, each man's conscience must witness for
   himself.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [859] Statio. This is properly the term for the weekly fasts on
   Wednesday and Friday, observed by the early Church in memory of our
   Lord's betrayal and crucifixion. See Tertullian on Prayer c. xix.; on
   Fasting c. i. x. In this place the word appears to be used by Cassian
   for the close of the fast; while elsewhere he uses it for fasting
   generally (not specially on Wednesday and Friday,) as in c. xxiv. of
   the present book, and in the Conferences, II. xxv.; XXI. xxi. The
   origin of the word is somewhat uncertain (a) because the fast was
   observed on stated days (stasis diebus); or (b), as S. Ambrose
   suggests, because "our fasts are our encampments which protect us from
   the devil's attacks: in short, they are called stationes, because
   standing (stantes) and staying in them we repel our plotting foe"
   (Serm. 25). See Dictionary of Christian Antiquities, vol. ii. p. 1928.

   [860] Extra mensam.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   Of the inward peace of a monk, and of spiritual abstinence.

   For it is not an external enemy whom we have to dread. Our foe is shut
   up within ourselves: an internal warfare is daily waged by us: and if
   we are victorious in this, all external things will be made weak, and
   everything will be made peaceful and subdued for the soldier of Christ.
   We shall have no external enemy to fear, if what is within is overcome
   and subdued to the spirit. And let us not believe that that external
   fast from visible food alone can possibly be sufficient for perfection
   of heart and purity of body unless with it there has also been united a
   fast of the soul. For the soul also has its foods which are harmful,
   fattened on which, even without superfluity of meats, it is involved in
   a downfall of wantonness. Slander is its food, and indeed one that is
   very dear to it. A burst of anger also is its food, even if it be a
   very slight one; yet supplying it with miserable food for an hour, and
   destroying it as well with its deadly savour. Envy is a food of the
   mind, corrupting it with its poisonous juices and never ceasing to make
   it wretched and miserable at the prosperity and success of another.
   Kenodoxia, i.e., vainglory is its food, which gratifies it with a
   delicious meal for a time; but afterwards strips it clear and bare of
   all virtue, and dismisses it barren and void of all spiritual fruit, so
   that it makes it not only lose the rewards of huge labours, but also
   makes it incur heavier punishments. All lust and shifty wanderings of
   heart are a sort of food for the soul, nourishing it on harmful meats,
   but leaving it afterwards without share of the heavenly bread and of
   really solid food. If then, with all the powers we have, we abstain
   from these in a most holy fast, our observance of the bodily fast will
   be both useful and profitable. For labour of the flesh, when joined
   with contrition of the spirit, will produce a sacrifice that is most
   acceptable to God, and a worthy shrine of holiness in the pure and
   undefiled inmost chambers of the heart. But if, while fasting as far as
   the body is concerned, we are entangled in the most dangerous vices of
   the soul, our humiliation of the flesh will do us no good whatever,
   while the most precious part of us is defiled: since we go wrong
   through that substance by virtue of which we are made a shrine of the
   Holy Ghost. For it is not so much the corruptible flesh as the clean
   heart, which is made a shrine for God, and a temple of the Holy Ghost.
   We ought therefore, whenever the outward man fasts, to restrain the
   inner man as well from food which is bad for him: that inner man,
   namely, which the blessed Apostle above all urges us to present pure
   before God, that it may be found worthy to receive Christ as a guest
   within, saying "that in the inner man Christ may dwell in your hearts
   through faith." [861]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [861] Eph. iii. 16, 17.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   That we should for this reason practise bodily abstinence that we may
   by it attain to a spiritual fast.

   And so we know that we ought therefore to bestow attention on bodily
   abstinence, that we may by this fasting attain to purity of heart.
   Otherwise our labours will be spent in vain, if we endure this without
   weariness, in contemplating the end, but are unable to reach the end
   for which we have endured such trials; and it would have been better to
   have abstained from the forbidden foods of the soul than to have fasted
   with the body from things indifferent and harmless, for in the case of
   these latter there is a simple and harmless reception of a creature of
   God, which in itself has nothing wrong about it: but in the case of the
   former there is at the very first a dangerous tendency to devour the
   brethren; of which it is said, "Do not love backbiting lest thou be
   rooted out." [862] And concerning anger and jealousy the blessed Job
   says: "For anger slayeth a fool, and envy killeth a child." [863] And
   at the same time it should be noticed that he who is angered is set
   down as a fool; and he who is jealous, as a child. For the former is
   not undeservedly considered a fool, since of his own accord he brings
   death upon himself, being goaded by the stings of anger; and the
   latter, while he is envious, proves that he is a child and a minor, for
   while he envies another he shows that the one at whose prosperity he is
   vexed, is greater than he.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [862] Prov. xx. 13. (LXX.).

   [863] Job v. 2.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIII.

   What should be the character of the monk's food.

   We should then choose for our food, not only that which moderates the
   heat of burning lust, and avoids kindling it; but what is easily got
   ready, and what is recommended by its cheapness, and is suitable to the
   life of the brethren and their common use. For the nature of gluttony
   is threefold: first, there is that which forces us to anticipate the
   proper hour for a meal, next that which delights in stuffing the
   stomach, and gorging all kinds of food; thirdly, that which takes
   pleasure in more refined and delicate feasting. And so against it a
   monk should observe a threefold watch: first, he should wait till the
   proper time for breaking the fast; secondly, he should not give way to
   gorging; thirdly, he should be contented with any of the commoner sorts
   of food. For anything that is taken over and above what is customary
   and the common use of all, is branded by the ancient tradition of the
   fathers as defiled with the sin of vanity and glorying and ostentation.
   Nor of those whom we have seen to be deservedly eminent for learning
   and discretion, or whom the grace of Christ has singled out as shining
   lights for every one to imitate, have we known any who have abstained
   from eating bread which is accounted cheap and easily to be obtained
   among them; nor have we seen that any one who has rejected this rule
   and given up the use of bread and taken to a diet of beans or herbs or
   fruits, has been reckoned among the most esteemed, or even acquired the
   grace of knowledge and discretion. For not only do they lay it down
   that a monk ought not to ask for foods which are not customary for
   others, lest his mode of life should be exposed publicly to all and
   rendered vain and idle and so be destroyed by the disease of vanity;
   but they insist that the common chastening discipline of fasts ought
   not lightly to be disclosed to any one, but as far as possible
   concealed and kept secret. But when any of the brethren arrive they
   rule that we ought to show the virtues of kindness and charity instead
   of observing a severe abstinence and our strict daily rule: nor should
   we consider what our own wishes and profit or the ardour of our desires
   may require, but set before us and gladly fulfil whatever the
   refreshment of the guest, or his weakness may demand from us.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIV.

   How in Egypt we saw that the daily fast was broken without scruple on
   our arrival.

   When we had come from the region of Syria and had sought the province
   of Egypt, in our desire to learn the rules of the Elders, we were
   astonished at the alacrity of heart with which we were there received
   so that no rule forbidding refreshment till the appointed hour of the
   fast was over was observed, such as we had been brought up to observe
   in the monasteries of Palestine; but except in the case of the regular
   days, Wednesdays and Fridays, wherever we went the daily fast [864] was
   broken: [865] and when we asked why the daily fast was thus ignored by
   them without scruple one of the elders replied: "The opportunity for
   fasting is always with me. But as I am going to conduct you on your
   way, I cannot always keep you with me. And a fast, although it is
   useful and advisable, is yet a free-will offering. But the exigencies
   of a command require the fulfilment of a work of charity. And so
   receiving Christ in you I ought to refresh Him but when I have sent you
   on your way I shall be able to balance the hospitality offered for His
   sake by a stricter fast on my own account.  For the children of the
   bridegroom cannot fast while the bridegroom is with them:' [866] but
   when he has departed, then they will rightly fast."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [864] Statio.

   [865] The allusion is here to the sparing diet and voluntary fasts of
   the monks, among whom but one meal a day was usual (see the note on
   III. xiii.), and though this was ordinarily taken at midday, yet many
   of the more celebrated anchorites never broke their fast till the
   evening; e.g. S. Antony is said never to have eaten till sunset (Vita
   Anton.) and S. Jerome gives a similar account of Hilarion (Vita Hil. S:
   4), while other instances of voluntary fasts are given by Cassian in
   the following chapters, xxv.-xxvii. The "station" days, however, viz.,
   Wednesday and Friday, being of ecclesiastical authority, were strictly
   observed as a matter of rule, but these other voluntary fasts at other
   times were to be freely broken through on account of the arrival of
   visitors. See the Conferences II. xxvi., XXI. xiv., XXIV. xxi., and cf.
   Rufinus, History of the Monks II. vii., Palladius, the Lausiac History,
   c. lii. So the Rule of S. Benedict (c. liii.) orders that on the
   arrival of visitors the Superior is to sit at table with them and break
   his fast, unless it be a special fast day which may not be broken; but
   the brethren are to observe the regular fasts.

   [866] S. Matt. ix. 15. The Latin has sponsus in each clause.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXV.

   Of the abstinence of one old man who took food six times so sparingly
   that he was still hungry.

   When one of the elders was pressing me to eat a little more as I was
   taking refreshment, and I said that I could not, he replied: "I have
   already laid my table six times for different brethren who had arrived,
   and, pressing each of them, I partook of food with him, and am still
   hungry, and do you, who now partake of refreshment for the first time,
   say that you cannot eat any more?"
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVI.

   Of another old man, who never partook of food alone in his cell.

   We have seen another who lived alone, who declared that he had never
   enjoyed food by himself alone, but that even if for five days running
   none of the brethren came to his cell he constantly put off taking food
   until on Saturday or Sunday he went to church for service and found
   some stranger whom he brought home at once to his cell, and together
   with him partook of refreshment for the body not so much by reason of
   his own needs, as for the sake of kindness and on his brother's
   account. And so as they know that the daily fast is broken without
   scruple on the arrival of brethren, when they leave, they compensate
   for the refreshment which has been enjoyed on their account by a
   greater abstinence, and sternly make up for the reception of even a
   very little food by a severer chastisement not only as regards bread,
   but also by lessening their usual amount of sleep.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVII.

   What the two Abbots Paesius and John said of the fruits of their zeal.

   When the aged John, who was superior of a large monastery and of a
   quantity of brethren, had come to visit the aged Paesius, who was
   living in a vast desert, and had been asked of him as of a very old
   friend, what he had done in all the forty years in which he had been
   separated from him and had scarcely ever been disturbed in his solitude
   by the brethren: "Never," said he, "has the sun seen me eating," "nor
   me angry," said the other. [867]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [867] There is a Paesius mentioned by Palladius in the Lausiac History,
   but it is not clear whether he is the same man whom Cassian mentions.
   John is a different person from the one already mentioned in Book IV.
   xxiii. He is mentioned again below in xl., and the Nineteenth
   Conference is assigned to him.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVIII.

   The lesson and example which Abbot John when dying left to his
   disciples.

   When the same old man, as one who was readily going to depart to his
   own, was lying at his last gasp, and the brethren were standing round,
   they implored and intreated that he would leave them, as a sort of
   legacy, some special charge by which they could attain to the height of
   perfection, the more easily from the brevity of the charge: he sighed
   and said, "I never did my own will, nor taught any one what I had not
   first done myself."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIX.

   Of Abbot Machetes, who never slept during the spiritual conferences,
   but always went to sleep during earthly tales.

   We knew an old man, Machetes by name, who lived at a distance from the
   crowds of the brethren, and obtained by his daily prayers this grace
   from the Lord, that as often as a spiritual conference was held,
   whether by day or by night, he never was at all overcome by sleep: but
   if any one tried to introduce a word of detraction, or idle talk, he
   dropped off to sleep at once as if the poison of slander could not
   possibly penetrate to pollute his ears.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXX.

   A saying of the same old man about not judging any one.

   The same old man, when he was teaching us that no one ought to judge
   another, remarked that there were three points on which he had charged
   and rebuked the brethren, viz.: because some allowed their uvula to be
   cut off, or kept a cloak in their cell, or blessed oil and gave it to
   those dwelling in the world who asked for it: and he said that he had
   done all these things himself. For having contracted some malady of the
   uvula, I wasted away, said he, for so long, through its weakness, that
   at last I was driven by stress of the pain, and by the persuasion of
   all the elders, to allow it to be cut off. And I was forced too by
   reason of this illness, to keep a cloak. And I was also compelled to
   bless oil and give it to those who prayed for it--a thing which I
   execrated above everything, since that I thought that it proceeded from
   great presumption of heart--when suddenly many who were living in the
   world surrounded me, so that I could not possibly escape them in any
   other way, had they not extorted from me with no small violence, and
   entreaties that I would lay my hand on a vessel offered by them, and
   sign it with the sign of the cross: and so believing that they had
   secured blessed oil, at last they let me go. And by these things I
   plainly discovered that a monk was in the same case and entangled in
   the same faults for which he had ventured to judge others. Each one
   therefore ought only to judge himself, and to be on the watch, with
   care and circumspection in all things not to judge the life and conduct
   of others in accordance with the Apostle's charge, "But thou, why dost
   thou judge thy brother? to his own master he standeth or falleth." And
   this: "Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye
   judge, ye shall be judged." [868] For besides the reason of which we
   have spoken, it is for this cause also dangerous to judge concerning
   others because in those matters in which we are offended--as we do not
   know the need or the reason for which they are really acting either
   rightly in the sight of God, or at any rate in a pardonable manner--we
   are found to have judged them rashly and in this commit no light sin,
   by forming an opinion of our brethren different from what we ought.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [868] Rom. xiv. 10, 4; S. Matt. vii. 1, 2.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXI.

   The same old man's rebuke when he saw how the brethren went to sleep
   during the spiritual conferences, and woke up when some idle story was
   told.

   The same old man made clear by this proof that it was the devil who
   encouraged idle tales, and showed himself always as the enemy of
   spiritual conferences. For when he was discoursing to some of the
   brethren on necessary matters and spiritual things, and saw that they
   were weighed down with a sound slumber, and could not drive away the
   weight of sleep from their eyes, he suddenly introduced an idle tale.
   And when he saw that at once they woke up, delighted with it, and
   pricked up their ears, he groaned and said, "Up till now we were
   speaking of celestial things and all your eyes were overpowered with a
   sound slumber; but as soon as an idle tale was introduced, we all woke
   up and shook off the drowsiness of sleep which had overcome us. And
   from this therefore consider who is the enemy of that spiritual
   conference, and who has shown himself the suggester of that useless and
   carnal talk. For it is most evidently shown that it is he who,
   rejoicing in evil, never ceases to encourage the latter and to oppose
   the former."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXII.

   Of the letters which were burnt without being read.

   Nor do I think it less needful to relate this act of a brother who was
   intent on purity of heart, and extremely anxious with regard to the
   contemplation of things divine. When after an interval of fifteen years
   a large number of letters had been brought to him from his father and
   mother and many friends in the province of Pontus, he received the huge
   packet of letters, and turning over the matter in his own mind for some
   time, "What thoughts," said he, "will the reading of these suggest to
   me, which will incite me either to senseless joy or to useless sadness!
   for how many days will they draw off the attention of my heart from the
   contemplation I have set before me, by the recollection of those who
   wrote them! How long will it take for the disturbance of mind thus
   created to be calmed, and what an effort will it cost for that former
   state of peacefulness to be restored, if the mind is once moved by the
   sympathy of the letters, and by recalling the words and looks of those
   whom it has left for so long begins once more in thought and spirit to
   revisit them, to dwell among them and to be with them. And it will be
   of no use to have forsaken them in the body, if one begins to look on
   them with the heart, and readmits and revives that memory which on
   renouncing this world every one gave up, as if he were dead." Turning
   this over in his mind, he determined not only not to read a single
   letter, but not even to open the packet, for fear lest, at the sight of
   the names of the writers, or on recalling their appearance, the purpose
   of his spirit might give way. And so he threw it into the fire to be
   burnt, all tied up just as he had received it, crying, "Away, O ye
   thoughts of my home, be ye burnt up, and try no further to recall me to
   those things from which I have fled."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXIII.

   Of the solution of a question which Abbot Theodore obtained by prayer.

   We knew also Abbot Theodore, [869] a man gifted with the utmost
   holiness and with perfect knowledge not only in practical life, but
   also in understanding the Scriptures, which he had not acquired so much
   by study and reading, or worldly education, as by purity of heart
   alone: since he could with difficulty understand and speak but a very
   few words of the Greek language. This man when he was seeking an
   explanation of some most difficult question, continued without ceasing
   for seven days and nights in prayer until he discovered by a revelation
   from the Lord the solution of the question propounded.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [869] Nothing further is known for certain of this Theodore. He may be
   the author of the VIth of the Conferences; but must be carefully
   distinguished from his more celebrated namesake, the friend of
   Pachomius, and third Abbot of Tabenna, who died before Cassian's visit
   to Egypt.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXIV.

   Of the saying of the same old man, through which he taught by what
   efforts a monk can acquire a knowledge of the Scriptures.

   This man therefore, when some of the brethren were wondering at the
   splendid light of his knowledge and were asking of him some meanings of
   Scripture, said that a monk who wanted to acquire a knowledge of the
   Scriptures ought not to spend his labour on the works of commentators,
   but rather to keep all the efforts of his mind and intentions of his
   heart set on purifying himself from carnal vices: for when these are
   driven out, at once the eyes of the heart, as if the veil of the
   passions were removed, will begin as it were naturally to gaze on the
   mysteries [870] of Scripture: since they were not declared to us by the
   grace of the Holy Spirit in order that they should remain unknown and
   obscure; but they are rendered obscure by our fault, as the veil of our
   sins covers the eyes of the heart, and when these are restored to their
   natural state of health, the mere reading of Holy Scripture is by
   itself amply sufficient for beholding the true knowledge, nor do they
   need the aid of commentators, just as these eyes of flesh need no man's
   teaching how to see, provided that they are free from dimness or the
   darkness of blindness. For this reason there have arisen so great
   differences and mistakes among commentators because most of them,
   paying no sort of attention towards purifying the mind, rush into the
   work of interpreting the Scriptures, and in proportion to the density
   or impurity of their heart form opinions that are at variance with and
   contrary to each other's and to the faith, and so are unable to take in
   the light of truth.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [870] Sacramenta.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXV.

   A rebuke of the same old man, when he had come to my cell in the middle
   of the night.

   The same Theodore came unexpectedly to my cell in the dead of night,
   with paternal inquisitiveness seeking what I--an unformed anchorite as
   I was--might be doing by myself; and when he had found me there
   already, as I had finished my vesper office, beginning to refresh my
   wearied body, and lying down on a mat, he sighed from the bottom of his
   heart, and calling me by name, said, "How many, O John, are at this
   hour communing with God, and embracing Him, and detaining Him with
   them, while you are deprived of so great light, enfeebled as you are
   with lazy sleep!"

   And since the virtues of the fathers and the grace given to them have
   tempted us to turn aside to a story like this, I think it well to
   record in this volume a noteworthy deed of charity, which we
   experienced from the kindness of that most excellent man Archebius,
   that the purity of continence grafted on to a work of charity may more
   readily shine forth, being embellished with a pleasing variety. For the
   duty of fasting is then rendered acceptable to God, when it is made
   perfect by the fruits of charity.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXVI.

   A description of the desert in Diolcos, where the anchorites live.

   And so when we had come, while still beginners, from the monasteries of
   Palestine, to a city of Egypt called Diolcos, [871] and were
   contemplating a large number of monks bound by the discipline of the
   Coenobium, and trained in that excellent system of monasteries, which
   is also the earliest, we were also eager to see with all wisdom of
   heart another system as well which is still better, viz.: that of the
   anchorites, as we were incited thereto by the praises of it by
   everybody. For these men, having first lived for a very long time in
   Coenobia, and having diligently learnt all the rules of patience and
   discretion, and acquired the virtues of humility and renunciation, and
   having perfectly overcome all their faults, in order to engage in most
   fearful conflicts with devils, penetrate the deepest recesses of the
   desert. Finding then that men of this sort were living near the river
   Nile in a place which is surrounded on one side by the same river, on
   the other by the expanse of the sea, and forms an island, habitable by
   none but monks seeking such recesses, since the saltness of the soil
   and dryness of the sand make it unfit for any cultivation--to these
   men, I say, we eagerly hastened, and were beyond measure astonished at
   their labours which they endure in the contemplation of the virtues and
   their love of solitude. For they are hampered by such a scarcity even
   of water that the care and exactness with which they portion it out is
   such as no miser would bestow in preserving and hoarding the most
   precious kind of wine. For they carry it three miles or even further
   from the bed of the above-mentioned river, for all necessary purposes;
   and the distance, great as it is, with sandy mountains in between, is
   doubled by the very great difficulty of the task.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [871] Diolcos is mentioned again in the Conferences XVIII. i. Sozomen
   (VI. xxix.) speaks of two celebrated monasteries near there presided
   over by Piamun and John.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXVII.

   Of the cells which Abbot Archebius gave up to us with their furniture.

   Having then seen this, as we were inflamed with the desire of imitating
   them, the aforesaid Archebius, the most famous among them for the grace
   of kindness, drew us into his cell, and having discovered our desire,
   pretended that he wanted to leave the place, and to offer his cell to
   us, as if he were going away, declaring that he would have done it,
   even if we had not come. And we, inflamed with the desire of remaining
   there, and putting unhesitating faith in the assertions of so great a
   man, willingly agreed to this, and took over his cell with all its
   furniture and belongings. And so having succeeded in his pious fraud,
   he left the place for a few days in which to procure the means for
   constructing a cell, and after this returned, and with the utmost
   labour built another cell for himself. And after some little time, when
   some other brethren came inflamed with the same desire to stay there,
   he deceived them by a similar charitable falsehood, and gave this one
   up with everything pertaining to it. But he, unweariedly persevering in
   his act of charity, built for himself a third cell to dwell in. [872]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [872] Somewhat similar stories are told of others by Palladius (Lausiac
   History, cc. ii. 1, lxx.); and Rufinus, History of the Monks, I. xxiii.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXVIII.

   The same Archebius paid a debt of his mother's by the labour of his own
   hands.

   It seems to me worth while to hand down another charitable act of the
   same man, that the monks of our land may be taught by the example of
   one and the same man to maintain not only a rigorous continence, but
   also the most unfeigned affection of love. For he, sprung from no
   ignoble family, while yet a child, scorning the love of this world and
   of his kinsfolk, fled to the monastery which is nearly four miles
   distant from the aforementioned town, where he so passed all his life,
   that never once throughout the whole of fifty years did he enter or see
   the village from which he had come, nor even look upon the face of any
   woman, not even his own mother. In the mean while his father was
   overtaken by death, and left a debt of a hundred solidi. And though he
   himself was entirely free from all annoyances, since he had been
   disinherited of all his father's property, yet he found that his mother
   was excessively annoyed by the creditors. Then he through consideration
   of duty somewhat moderated that gospel severity through which formerly,
   while his parents were prosperous, he did not recognize that he
   possessed a father or mother on earth; and acknowledged that he had a
   mother, and hastened to relieve her in her distress, without relaxing
   anything of the austerity he had set himself. For remaining within the
   cloister of the monastery he asked that the task of his usual work
   might be trebled. And there for a whole year toiling night and day
   alike he paid to the creditors the due measure of the debt secured by
   his toil and labour, and relieved his mother from all annoyance and
   anxiety; ridding her of the burden of the debt in such a way as not to
   suffer aught of the severity he had set himself to be diminished on
   plea of duteous necessity. Thus did he preserve his wonted austerities,
   without ever denying to his mother's heart the work which duty
   demanded, as, though he had formerly disregarded her for the love of
   Christ, he now acknowledged her again out of consideration of duty.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXIX.

   Of the device of a certain old man by which some work was found for
   Abbot Simeon when he had nothing to do.

   When a brother who was very dear to us, Simeon by name, a man utterly
   ignorant of Greek, had come from the region of Italy, one of the
   elders, anxious to show to him, as he was a stranger, a work of
   charity, with some pretence of the benefit being mutual, asked him why
   he sat doing nothing in his cell, guessing from this that he would not
   be able to stay much longer in it both because of the roving thoughts
   which idleness produces and because of his want of the necessities of
   life; well knowing that no one can endure the assaults made in
   solitude, but one who is contented to procure food for himself by the
   labour of his hands. And when the other replied that he could not do or
   manage any of the things which were usually done by the brethren there,
   except write a good hand, if any one in Egypt wanted a Latin book for
   his use, then he at length seized the opportunity to secure the long
   wished for work of charity, under colour of its being a mutual benefit;
   and said, "From God this opportunity comes, for I was just looking for
   some one to write out for me the Epistles [873] in Latin; for I have a
   brother who is bound in the chains of military service, and is a good
   Latin scholar, to whom I want to send something from Scripture for him
   to read for his edification." And so when Simeon gratefully took this
   as an opportunity offered to him by God, the old man also gladly seized
   the pretext, under colour of which he could freely carry out his work
   of charity, and at once not only brought him as a matter of business
   everything he could want for a whole year, but also conveyed to him
   parchment and everything requisite for writing, and received afterwards
   the manuscript, which was not of the slightest use (since in those
   parts they were all utterly ignorant of this language), and did no good
   to anybody except that which resulted from this device and large
   outlay, as the one, without shame or confusion, procured his necessary
   food and sustenance by the reward of his work and labour, and the other
   carried out his kindness and bounty as it were by the compulsion of a
   debt: securing for himself a more abundant reward proportioned to the
   zeal with which he procured for his foreign brother not only his
   necessary food, but materials for writing, and an opportunity of work.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [873] Apostolus.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XL.

   Of the boys who when bringing to a sick man some figs, died in the
   desert from hunger, without having tasted them.

   But since in the section in which we proposed to say something about
   the strictness of fasting and abstinence, kindly acts and deeds of
   charity seem to have been intermingled, again returning to our design
   we will insert in this little book a noteworthy deed of some who were
   boys in years though not in their feelings. For when, to their great
   surprise, some one had brought to Abbot John, the steward in the desert
   of Scete, some figs from Libya Mareotis, [874] as being a thing never
   before seen in those districts,--(John) who had the management of the
   church in the days of the blessed Presbyter Paphnutius, [875] by whom
   it had been intrusted to him, at once sent them by the hands of two
   lads to an old man who was laid up in ill health in the further parts
   of the desert, and who lived about eighteen miles from the church. And
   when they had received the fruit, and set off for the cell of the
   above-mentioned old man, they lost the right path altogether--a thing
   which there easily happens even to elders--as a thick fog suddenly came
   on. And when all day and night they had wandered about the trackless
   waste of the desert, and could not possibly find the sick man's cell,
   worn out at last both by weariness from their journey, and from hunger
   and thirst, they bent their knees and gave up their souls to God in the
   very act of prayer. And afterwards, when they had been for a long while
   sought for by the marks of their footsteps which in those sandy regions
   are impressed as if on snow, until a thin coating of sand blown about
   even by a slight breeze covers them up again, it was found that they
   had preserved the figs untouched, just as they had received them;
   choosing rather to give up their lives, than their fidelity to their
   charge, and to lose their life on earth than to violate the commands of
   their senior.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [874] The Mareotic nome is the district round Lake Mareotis, a lake in
   the north of the delta bordering upon the Libyan desert (the modern
   Birket el Mariout), and running parallel to the Mediterranean, from
   which it is separated by a long and narrow ridge of sand.

   [875] On Paphnutius see the note on the Conference III. i.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XLI.

   The saying of Abbot Macarius of the behaviour of a monk as one who was
   to live for a long while, and as one who was daily at the point of
   death.

   There is still one valuable charge of the blessed Macarius to be
   brought forward by us, so that a saying of so great a man may close
   this book of fasts and abstinence. He said then that a monk ought to
   bestow attention on his fasts, just as if he were going to remain in
   the flesh for a hundred years; and to curb the motions of the soul, and
   to forget injuries, and to loathe sadness, and despise sorrows and
   losses, as if he were daily at the point of death. For in the former
   case discretion is useful and proper as it causes a monk always to walk
   with well-balanced care, and does not suffer him by reason of a
   weakened body to fall from the heights over most dangerous precipices:
   in the other high-mindedness is most valuable as it will enable him not
   only to despise the seeming prosperity of this present world, but also
   not to be crushed by adversity and sorrow, and to despise them as small
   and paltry matters, since he has the gaze of his mind continually fixed
   there, whither daily at each moment he believes that he is soon to be
   summoned. [876]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [876] Socrates (H.E. Book IV. c. xxiii.) gives an account of two monks
   of the name of Macarius, one of whom was from Upper Egypt, and the
   other from Alexandria. Compare also Rufinus History of the Monks, cc.
   xxviii., xxix. It is not certain to which of them Cassian's stories
   refer, here and in the Conferences V. xii. VII. xxvii., XXIV. xiii. The
   story told in Conference XV. iii, refers to the "Egyptian" Macarius
   (cf. Sozomen H. E. III. xiv., where the miracle is expressly assigned
   to him): that in XIV. iv. evidently belongs to the "Alexandrian"
   Macarius. The two are mentioned together in Conference XIX. ix., and by
   various other writers.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Book VI.

    On the Spirit of Fornication.

   We have thought best to omit altogether the translation of this book.
     __________________________________________________________________

  Book VII.

    Of the Spirit of Covetousness.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   How our warfare with covetousness is a foreign one, and how this fault
   is not a natural one in man, as the other faults are.

   Our third conflict is against covetousness which we can describe as the
   love of money; a foreign warfare, and one outside of our nature, and in
   the case of a monk originating only from the state of a corrupt and
   sluggish mind, and often from the beginning of his renunciation being
   unsatisfactory, and his love towards God being lukewarm at its
   foundation. For the rest of the incitements to sin planted in human
   nature seem to have their commencement as it were congenital with us,
   and somehow being deeply rooted in our flesh, and almost coeval with
   our birth, anticipate our powers of discerning good and evil, and
   although in very early days they attack a man, yet they are overcome
   with a long struggle.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   How dangerous is the disease of covetousness.

   But this disease coming upon us at a later period, and approaching the
   soul from without, as it can be the more easily guarded against and
   resisted, so, if it is disregarded and once allowed to gain an entrance
   into the heart, is the more dangerous to every one, and with the
   greater difficulty expelled. For it becomes "a root of all evils,"
   [877] and gives rise to a multiplicity of incitements to sin.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [877] 1 Tim. vi. 10.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   What is the usefulness of those vices which are natural to us.

   For example, do not we see those natural impulses of the flesh not only
   in boys in whom innocence still anticipates the discernment of good and
   evil, but even in little children and infants, who although they have
   not even the slightest approach to lust within them, yet show that the
   impulses of the flesh exist in them and are naturally excited? Do not
   we also see that the deadly pricks of anger already exist in full
   vigour likewise in little children? and before they have learnt the
   virtue of patience, we see that they are disturbed by wrongs, and feel
   affronts offered to them even by way of a joke; and sometimes, although
   strength is lacking to them, the desire to avenge themselves is not
   wanting, when anger excites them. Nor do I say this to lay the blame on
   their natural state, but to point out that of these impulses which
   proceed from us, some are implanted in us for a useful purpose, while
   some are introduced from without, through the fault of carelessness and
   the desire of an evil will. For these carnal impulses, of which we
   spoke above, were with a useful purpose implanted in our bodies by the
   providence of the Creator, viz.: for perpetuating the race, and raising
   up children for posterity: and not for committing adulteries and
   debaucheries, which the authority of the law also condemns. The pricks
   of anger too, do we not see that they have been most wisely given to
   us, that being enraged at our sins and mistakes, we may apply ourselves
   the rather to virtues and spiritual exercises, showing forth all love
   towards God, and patience towards our brethren? We know too how great
   is the use of sorrow, which is reckoned among the other vices, when it
   is turned to an opposite use. For on the one hand, when it is in
   accordance with the fear of God it is most needful, and on the other,
   when it is in accordance with the world, most pernicious; as the
   Apostle teaches us when he says that "the sorrow which is according to
   God worketh repentance that is steadfast unto salvation, but the sorrow
   of the world worketh death." [878]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [878] 2 Cor. vii. 10.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   That we can say that there exist in us some natural faults, without
   wronging the Creator.

   If then we say that these impulses were implanted in us by the Creator,
   He will not on that account seem blameworthy, if we choose wrongly to
   abuse them, and to pervert them to harmful purposes, and are ready to
   be made sorry by means of the useless Cains of this world, and not by
   means of showing penitence and the correction of our faults: or at
   least if we are angry not with ourselves (which would be profitable)
   but with our brethren in defiance of God's command. For in the case of
   iron, which is given us for good and useful purposes, if any one should
   pervert it for murdering the innocent, one would not therefore blame
   the maker of the metal because man had used to injure others that which
   he had provided for good and useful purposes of living happily.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   Of the faults which are contracted through our own fault, without
   natural impulses.

   But we affirm that some faults grow up without any natural occasion
   giving birth to them, but simply from the free choice of a corrupt and
   evil will, as envy and this very sin of covetousness; which are caught
   (so to speak) from without, having no origination in us from natural
   instincts. But these, in proportion as they are easily guarded against
   and readily avoided, just so do they make wretched the mind that they
   have got hold of and seized, and hardly do they suffer it to get at the
   remedies which would cure it: either because these who are wounded by
   persons whom they might either have ignored, or avoided, or easily
   overcome, do not deserve to be healed by a speedy cure, or else
   because, having laid the foundations badly, they are unworthy to raise
   an edifice of virtue and reach the summit of perfection.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   How difficult the evil of covetousness is to drive away when once it
   has been admitted.

   Wherefore let not this evil seem of no account or unimportant to
   anybody: for as it can easily be avoided, so if it has once got hold of
   any one, it scarcely suffers him to get at the remedies for curing it.
   For it is a regular nest of sins, and a "root of all kinds of evil,"
   and becomes a hopeless incitement to wickedness, as the Apostle says,
   "Covetousness," i.e. the love of money, "is a root of all kinds of
   evil." [879]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [879] 1 Tim. vi. 10.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   Of the source from which covetousness springs, and of the evils of
   which it is itself the mother.

   When then this vice has got hold of the slack and lukewarm soul of some
   monk, it begins by tempting him in regard of a small sum of money,
   giving him excellent and almost reasonable excuses why he ought to
   retain some money for himself. For he complains that what is provided
   in the monastery is not sufficient, and can scarcely be endured by a
   sound and sturdy body. What is he to do if ill health comes on, and he
   has no special store of his own to support him in his weakness? He says
   that the allowance of the monastery is but meagre, and that there is
   the greatest carelessness about the sick: and if he has not something
   of his own so that he can look after the wants of his body, he will
   perish miserably. The dress which is allowed him is insufficient,
   unless he has provided something with which to procure another. Lastly,
   he says that he cannot possibly remain for long in the same place and
   monastery, and that unless he has secured the money for his journey,
   and the cost of his removal over the sea, he cannot move when he wants
   to, and, detained by the compulsion of want, will henceforth drag out a
   wretched and wearisome existence without making the slightest advance:
   that he cannot without indignity be supported by another's substance,
   as a pauper and one in want. And so when he has bamboozled himself with
   such thoughts as these, he racks his brains to think how he can acquire
   at least one penny. Then he anxiously searches for some special work
   which he can do without the Abbot knowing anything about it. And
   selling it secretly, and so securing the coveted coin, he torments
   himself worse and worse in thinking how he can double it: puzzled as to
   where to deposit it, or to whom to intrust it. Then he is oppressed
   with a still weightier care as to what to buy with it, or by what
   transaction he can double it. And when this has turned out as he
   wished, a still more greedy craving for gold springs up, and is more
   and more keenly excited, as his store of money grows larger and larger.
   For with the increase of wealth the mania of covetousness increases.
   Then next he has forebodings of a long life, and an enfeebled old age,
   and infirmities of all sorts, and long drawn out, which will be
   insupportable in old age, unless a large store of money has been laid
   by in youth. And so the wretched soul is agitated, and held fast, as it
   were, in a serpent's toils, while it endeavours to add to that heap
   which it has unlawfully secured, by still more unlawful care, and
   itself gives birth to plagues which inflame it more sorely, and being
   entirely absorbed in the quest of gain, pays attention to nothing but
   how to get money with which to fly [880] as quickly as possible from
   the discipline of the monastery, never keeping faith where there is a
   gleam of hope of money to be got. For this it shrinks not from the
   crime of lying, perjury, and theft, of breaking a promise, of giving
   way to injurious bursts of passion. If the man has dropped away at all
   from the hope of gain, he has no scruples about transgressing the
   bounds of humility, and through it all gold and the love of gain become
   to him his god, as the belly does to others. Wherefore the blessed
   Apostle, looking out on the deadly poison of this pest, not only says
   that it is a root of all kinds of evil, but also calls it the worship
   of idols, saying "And covetousness (which in Greek is called
   philarguria ) which is the worship of idols." [881] You see then to
   what a downfall this madness step by step leads, so that by the voice
   of the Apostle it is actually declared to be the worship of idols and
   false gods, because passing over the image and likeness of God (which
   one who serves God with devotion ought to preserve undefiled in
   himself), it chooses to love and care for images stamped on gold
   instead of God.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [880] The same danger is strongly spoken of by S. Basil in the
   "Monastic Constitutions" c. xxxiv., a passage which should be compared
   with the one above.

   [881] Col. iii. 5.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   How covetousness is a hindrance to all virtues.

   With such strides then in a downward direction he goes from bad to
   worse, and at last cares not to retain I will not say the virtue but
   even the shadow of humility, charity, and obedience; and is displeased
   with everything, and murmurs and groans over every work; and now having
   cast off all reverence, like a bad-tempered horse, dashes off headlong
   and unbridled: and discontented with his daily food and usual clothing,
   announces that he will not put up with it any longer. He declares that
   God is not only there, and that his salvation is not confined to that
   place, where, if he does not take himself off pretty quickly from it,
   he deeply laments that he will soon die.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   How a monk who has money cannot stay in the monastery.

   And so having money to provide for his wanderings, with the assistance
   of which he has fitted himself as it were with wings, and now being
   quite ready for his move, he answers impertinently to all commands, and
   behaves himself like a stranger and a visitor, and whatever he sees
   needing improvement, he despises and treats with contempt. And though
   he has a supply of money secretly hidden, yet he complains that he has
   neither shoes nor clothes, and is indignant that they are given out to
   him so slowly. And if it happens that through the management of the
   superior some of these are given first to one who is known to have
   nothing whatever, he is still more inflamed with burning rage, and
   thinks that he is despised as a stranger; nor is he contented to turn
   his hand to any work, but finds fault with everything which the needs
   of the monastery require to be done. Then of set purpose he looks out
   for opportunities of being offended and angry, lest he might seem to
   have gone forth from the discipline of the monastery for a trivial
   reason. And not content to take his departure by himself alone, lest it
   should be thought that he has left as it were from his own fault, he
   never stops corrupting as many as he can by clandestine conferences.
   But if the severity of the weather interferes with his journey and
   travels, he remains all the time in suspense and anxiety of heart, and
   never stops sowing and exciting discontent; as he thinks that he will
   only find consolation for his departure and an excuse for his
   fickleness in the bad character and defects of the monastery.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   Of the toils which a deserter from a monastery must undergo through
   covetousness, though he used formerly to murmur at the very slightest
   tasks.

   And so he is driven about, and more and more inflamed with the love of
   his money, which when it is acquired, never allows a monk either to
   remain in a monastery or to live under the discipline of a rule. And
   when separating him like some wild beast from the rest of the herd, it
   has made him through want of companions an animal fit for prey, and
   caused him to be easily eaten up, as he is deprived of fellow lodgers,
   it forces him, who once thought it beneath him to perform the slight
   duties of the monastery, to labour without stopping night and day,
   through hope of gain; it suffers him to keep no services of prayer, no
   system of fasting, no rule of vigils; it does not allow him to fulfil
   the duties of seemly intercession, if only he can satisfy the madness
   of avarice, and supply his daily wants; inflaming the more the fire of
   covetousness, while believing that it will be extinguished by getting.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   That under pretence of keeping the purse women have to besought to
   dwell with them.

   Hence many are led on over an abrupt precipice, and by an irrevocable
   fall, to death, and not content to possess by themselves that money
   which they either never had before, or which by a bad beginning they
   kept back, they seek for women to dwell with them, to preserve what
   they have unjustifiably amassed or retained. And they implicate
   themselves in so many harmful and dangerous occupations, that they are
   cast down even to the depths of hell, while they refuse to acquiesce in
   that saying of the Apostle, that "having food and clothing they should
   be content" with that which the thrift of the monastery supplied, but
   "wishing to become rich they fall into temptation and the snare of the
   devil, and many unprofitable and hurtful desires, which drown men in
   destruction and perdition. For the love of money," i.e. covetousness,
   "is a root of all kinds of evil, which some coveting have erred from
   the faith, and have entangled themselves in many sorrows." [882]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [882] 1 Tim. vi. 8-10.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   An instance of a lukewarm monk caught in the snares of covetousness.

   I know of one, who thinks himself a monk, and what is worse flatters
   himself on his perfection, who had been received into a monastery, and
   when charged by his Abbot not to turn his thoughts back to those things
   which he had given up and renounced, but to free himself from
   covetousness, the root of all kinds of evil, and from earthly snares;
   and when told that if he wished to be cleansed from his former
   passions, by which he saw that he was from time to time grievously
   oppressed, he should cease from caring about those things which even
   formerly were not his own, entangled in the chains of which he
   certainly could not make progress towards purifying himself of his
   faults: with an angry expression he did not hesitate to answer, "If you
   have that with which you can support others, why do you forbid me to
   have it as well?" [883]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [883] Cur prohibes (Petschenig). Gazaeus omits Cur.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   What the elders relate to the juniors in the matter of stripping off
   sins.

   But let not this seem superfluous or objectionable to any one. For
   unless the different kinds of sins are first explained, and the origin
   and causes of diseases traced out, the proper healing remedies cannot
   be applied to the sick, nor can the preservation of perfect health be
   secured by the strong. For both these matters and many others besides
   these are generally put forward for the instruction of the younger
   brethren by the elders in their conferences, as they have had
   experience of numberless falls and the ruin of all sorts of people. And
   often recognizing in ourselves many of these things, when the elders
   explained and showed them, as men who were themselves disquieted [884]
   by the same passions, we were cured without any shame or confusion on
   our part, since without saying anything we learnt both the remedies and
   the causes of the sins which beset us, which we have passed over and
   said nothing about, not from fear of the brethren, but lest our book
   should chance to fall into the hands of some who have had no
   instruction in this way of life, and might disclose to inexperienced
   persons what ought to be known only to those who are toiling and
   striving to reach the heights of perfection.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [884] Pulsarentur (Petschenig). The text of Gazaeus has pulsaremur.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   Instances to show that the disease of covetousness is threefold.

   And so this disease and unhealthy state is threefold, and is condemned
   with equal abhorrence by all the fathers. One feature is this, of which
   we described the taint above, which by deceiving wretched folk
   persuades them to hoard though they never had anything of their own
   when they lived in the world. Another, which forces men afterwards to
   resume and once more desire those things which in the early days of
   their renunciation of the world they gave up. A third, which springing
   from a faulty and hurtful beginning and making a bad start, does not
   suffer those whom it has once infected with this lukewarmness of mind
   to strip themselves of all their worldly goods, through fear of poverty
   and want of faith; and those who keep back money and property which
   they certainly ought to have renounced and forsaken, it never allows to
   arrive at the perfection of the gospel. And we find in Holy Scripture
   instances of these three catastrophes which were visited with no light
   punishment. For when Gehazi wished to acquire what he had never had
   before, not only did he fail to obtain the gift of prophecy which it
   would have been his to receive from his master by hereditary
   succession, but on the contrary he was covered by the curse of the holy
   Elisha with a perpetual leprosy: while Judas, wanting to resume the
   possession of the wealth which he had formerly cast away when he
   followed Christ, not only fell into betraying the Lord, and lost his
   apostolic rank, but also was not allowed to close his life with the
   common lot of all but ended it by a violent death. But Ananias and
   Sapphira, keeping back a part of that which was formerly their own,
   were at the Apostle's word punished with death.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   Of the difference between one who renounces the world badly and one who
   does not renounce it at all.

   Of those then who say that they have renounced this world, and
   afterwards being overcome by want of faith are afraid of losing their
   worldly goods, a charge is given mystically in Deuteronomy. "If any man
   is afraid and of a fearful heart let him not go forth to war: let him
   go back and return home, lest he make the hearts of his brethren to
   fear as he himself is timid and frightened." [885] What can one want
   plainer than this testimony? Does not Scripture clearly prefer that
   they should not take on them even the earliest stages of this
   profession and its name, rather than by their persuasion and bad
   example turn others back from the perfection of the gospel, and weaken
   them by their faithless terror. And so they are bidden to withdraw from
   the battle and return to their homes, because a man cannot fight the
   Lord's battle with a double heart. For "a double-minded man is unstable
   in all his ways." [886] And thinking, according to that Parable in the
   Gospel, [887] that he who goes forth with ten thousand men against a
   king who comes with twenty thousand, cannot possibly fight, they
   should, while he is yet a great way off, ask for peace; that is, it is
   better for them not even to take the first step towards renunciation,
   rather than afterwards following it up coldly, to involve themselves in
   still greater dangers. For "it is better not to vow, than to vow and
   not pay." [888] But finely is the one described as coming with ten
   thousand and the other with twenty. For the number of sins which attack
   us is far larger than that of the virtues which fight for us. But "no
   man can serve God and Mammon." [889] And "no man putting his hand to
   the plough and looking back is fit for the kingdom of God." [890]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [885] Deut. xx. 8.

   [886] S. James i. 8.

   [887] S. Luke xiv. 31, 32.

   [888] Eccl. v. 4 (LXX.).

   [889] S. Matt. vi. 24.

   [890] S. Luke ix. 62.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   Of the authority under which those shelter themselves who object to
   stripping themselves of their goods.

   These then try to make out a case for their original avarice, by some
   authority from Holy Scripture, which they interpret with base
   ingenuity, in their desire to wrest and pervert to their own purposes a
   saying of the Apostle or rather of the Lord Himself: and, not adapting
   their own life or understanding to the meaning of the Scripture, but
   making the meaning of Scripture bend to the desires of their own lust,
   they try to make it to correspond to their own views, and say that it
   is written, "It is more blessed to give than to receive." [891] And by
   an entirely wrong interpretation of this they think that they can
   weaken the force of that saying of the Lord in which he says: "If thou
   wilt be perfect, go sell all that thou hast and give to the poor, and
   thou shalt have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me." [892] And
   they think that under colour of this they need not deprive themselves
   of their riches: declaring indeed that they are more blessed if,
   supported by that which originally belonged to them, they give to
   others also out of their superabundance. And while they are shy of
   embracing with the Apostle that glorious state of abnegation for
   Christ's sake, they will not be content either with manual labour or
   the sparing diet of the monastery. And the only thing is that these
   must either know that they are deceiving themselves, and have not
   really renounced the world while they are clinging to their former
   riches; or, if they really and truly want to make trial of the monastic
   life, they must give up and forsake all these things and keep back
   nothing of that which they have renounced, and, with the Apostle, glory
   "in hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness." [893]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [891] Acts xx. 35.

   [892] S. Matt. xix. 21.

   [893] 2 Cor. ii. 27.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   Of the renunciation of the apostles and the primitive church.

   As if he (who, by his assertion that he was endowed with the privileges
   of a Roman citizen from his birth, testifies that he was no mean person
   according to this world's rank) might not likewise have been supported
   by the property which formerly belonged to him! And as if those men who
   were possessors of lands and houses in Jerusalem and sold everything
   and kept back nothing whatever for themselves, and brought the price of
   them and laid it at the feet of the apostles, might not have supplied
   their bodily necessities from their own property, had this been
   considered the best plan by the apostles, or had they themselves deemed
   it preferable! But they gave up all their property at once, and
   preferred to be supported by their own labour, and by the contributions
   of the Gentiles, of whose collection the holy Apostle speaks in writing
   to the Romans, and declaring his own office in this matter to them, and
   urging them on likewise to make this collection: "But now I go to
   Jerusalem to minister to the saints. For it has pleased them of
   Macedonia and Achaia to make a certain contribution for the poor saints
   who are at Jerusalem: it has pleased them indeed, and their debtors
   they are. For if the Gentiles are made partakers of their spiritual
   things, they ought also to minister to them in carnal things." [894] To
   the Corinthians also he shows the same anxiety about this, and urges
   them the more diligently to prepare before his arrival a collection,
   which he was intending to send for their needs. "But concerning the
   collection for the saints, as I appointed to the churches of Galatia,
   so also do ye. Let each one of you on the first day of the week put
   apart with himself, laying up what it shall well please him, that when
   I come the collections be not then to be made. But when I come
   whomsoever you shall approve by your letters, them I will send to carry
   your grace to Jerusalem." And that he may stimulate them to make a
   larger collection, he adds, "But if it be meet that I also go, they
   shall go with me:" [895] meaning if your offering is of such a
   character as to deserve to be taken there by my ministration. To the
   Galatians too, he testifies that when he was settling the division of
   the ministry of preaching with the apostles, he had arranged this with
   James, Peter, and John: that he should undertake the preaching to the
   Gentiles, but should never repudiate care and anxious thought for the
   poor who were at Jerusalem, who for Christ's sake gave up all their
   goods, and submitted to voluntary poverty. "And when they saw," said
   he, "the grace of God which was given to me, James and Cephas and John,
   who seemed to be pillars, gave to me and to Barnabas the right hand of
   fellowship, that we should preach to the Gentiles, but they to those of
   the circumcision: only they would that we should be mindful of the
   poor." A matter which he testifies that he attended to most carefully,
   saying, "which also I was anxious of myself to do." [896] Who then are
   the more blessed, those who but lately were gathered out of the number
   of the heathen, and being unable to climb to the heights of the
   perfection of the gospel, clung to their own property, in whose case it
   was considered a great thing by the Apostle if at least they were
   restrained from the worship of idols, and from fornication, and from
   things strangled, and from blood, [897] and had embraced the faith of
   Christ, with their goods and all: or those who live up to the demands
   of the gospel, and carry the Lord's cross daily, and want nothing out
   of their property to remain for their own use? And if the blessed
   Apostle himself, bound with chains and fetters, or hampered by the
   difficulties of travelling, and for these reasons not being able to
   provide with his hands, as he generally did, for the supply of his
   food, declares that he received that which supplied his wants from the
   brethren who came from Macedonia; "For that which was lacking to me,"
   he says, "the brethren who came from Macedonia supplied:" [898] and to
   the Philippians he says: "For ye Philippians know also that in the
   beginning of the gospel, when I came from Macedonia, no church
   communicated with me in the matter of giving and receiving, except you
   only; because even in Thessalonica once and again you sent to supply my
   needs:" [899] (if this was so) then, according to the notion of these
   men, which they have formed in the coldness of their heart, will those
   men really be more blessed than the Apostle, because it is found that
   they have ministered to him of their substance? But this no one will
   venture to assert, however big a fool he may be.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [894] Rom. xv. 25-27.

   [895] 1 Cor. xvi. 1-4.

   [896] Gal. ii. 9, 10.

   [897] Acts xv. 20.

   [898] 2 Cor. xi. 9.

   [899] Phil. iv. 15, 16.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   That if we want to imitate the apostles we ought not to live according
   to our own prescriptions, but to follow their example.

   Wherefore if we want to obey the gospel precept, and to show ourselves
   the followers of the Apostle and the whole primitive church, or of the
   fathers who in our own days succeeded to their virtues and perfection,
   we should not acquiesce in our own prescriptions, promising ourselves
   perfection from this wretched and lukewarm condition of ours: but
   following their footsteps, we should by no means aim at looking after
   our own interests, but should seek out the discipline and system of a
   monastery, that we may in very truth renounce this world; preserving
   nothing of those things which we have despised through the temptation
   of want of faith; and should look for our daily food, not from any
   store of money of our own, but from our own labours.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   A saying of S. Basil, the Bishop, directed against Syncletius. [900]

   There is current a saying of S. Basil, Bishop of Caesarea, directed
   against a certain Syncletius, who was growing indifferent with the sort
   of lukewarmness of which we have spoken; who, though he professed to
   have renounced this world, had yet kept back for himself some of his
   property, not liking to be supported by the labour of his own hands,
   and to acquire true humility by stripping himself and by grinding toil,
   and the subjection of the monastery: "You have," said he, "spoilt
   Syncletius, and not made a monk."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [900] Petschenig's text has Syncletium as a proper name. Gazaeus,
   however, thinks that it should be Syncleticum; i.e. Sunkletikos or
   Senator: and in the saying of S. Basil at the close of the chapter
   actually reads (apparently without any ms. authority), Et Senatorem,
   inquit, perdidisti.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   How contemptible it is to be overcome by covetousness.

   And so if we want to strive lawfully in our spiritual combat, let us
   expel this dangerous enemy also from our hearts. For to overcome him
   does not so much show great virtue, as to be beaten by him is shameful
   and disgraceful. For when you are overpowered by a strong man, though
   there is grief in being overthrown, and distress at the loss of
   victory, yet some consolation may be derived by the vanquished from the
   strength of their opponent. But if the enemy is a poor creature, and
   the struggle a feeble one, besides the grief for defeat there is
   confusion of a more disgraceful character, and a shame which is worse
   than loss.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   How covetousness can be conquered.

   And in this case it will be the greatest victory and a lasting triumph,
   if, as is said, the conscience of the monk is not defiled by the
   possession of the smallest coin. For it is an impossibility for him
   who, overcome in the matter of a small possession, has once admitted
   into his heart a root of evil desire, not to be inflamed presently with
   the heat of a still greater desire. For the soldier of Christ will be
   victorious and in safety, and free from all the attacks of desire, so
   long as this most evil spirit does not implant in his heart a seed of
   this desire. Wherefore, though in the matter of all kinds of sins we
   ought ordinarily to watch the serpent's head, [901] yet in this above
   all we should be more keenly on our guard. For if it has been admitted
   it will grow by feeding on itself, and will kindle for itself a worse
   fire. And so we must not only guard against the possession of money,
   but also must expel from our souls the desire for it. For we should not
   so much avoid the results of covetousness, as cut off by the roots all
   disposition towards it. For it will do no good not to possess money, if
   there exists in us the desire for getting it.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [901] Gen. iii. 15.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   That one who actually has no money may still be deemed covetous.

   For it is possible even for one who has no money to be by no means free
   from the malady of covetousness, and for the blessing of penury to do
   him no good, because he has not been able to root out the sin of
   cupidity: delighting in the advantages of poverty, not in the merit of
   the virtue, and satisfied with the burden of necessity, not without
   coldness of heart. For just as the word of the gospel declares of those
   who are not defiled in body, that they are adulterers in heart; [902]
   so it is possible that those who are in no way pressed down with the
   weight of money may be condemned with the covetous in disposition and
   intent. For it was the opportunity of possessing which was wanting in
   their case, and not the will for it: which latter is always crowned by
   God, rather than compulsion. And so we must use all diligence lest the
   fruits of our labours should be destroyed to no purpose. For it is a
   wretched thing to have endured the effects of poverty and want, but to
   have lost their fruits, through the fault of a shattered will.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [902] S. Matt. v. 28.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIII.

   An example drawn from the case of Judas.

   Would you like to know how dangerously and harmfully that incitement,
   unless it has been carefully eradicated, will shoot up for the
   destruction of its owner, and put forth all sorts of branches of
   different sins? Look at Judas, reckoned among the number of the
   apostles, and see how because he would not bruise the deadly head of
   this serpent it destroyed him with its poison, and how when he was
   caught in the snares of concupiscence, it drove him into sin and a
   headlong downfall, so that he was persuaded to sell the Redeemer of the
   world and the author of man's salvation for thirty pieces of silver.
   And he could never have been impelled to this heinous sin of the
   betrayal if he had not been contaminated by the sin of covetousness:
   nor would he have made himself wickedly guilty of betraying [903] the
   Lord, unless he had first accustomed himself to rob the bag intrusted
   to him.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [903] Negationis (Petschenig). Another reading is necationis.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIV.

   That covetousness cannot be overcome except by stripping one's self of
   everything.

   This is a sufficiently dreadful and clear instance of this tyranny,
   which, when once the mind is taken prisoner by it, allows it to keep to
   no rules of honesty, nor to be satisfied with any additions to its
   gains. For we must seek to put an end to this madness, not by riches,
   but by stripping ourselves of them. Lastly, when he (viz. Judas) had
   received the bag set apart for the distribution to the poor, and
   intrusted to his care for this purpose, that he might at least satisfy
   himself with plenty of money, and set a limit to his avarice, yet his
   plentiful supply only broke out into a still greedier incitement of
   desire, so that he was ready no longer secretly to rob the bag, but
   actually to sell the Lord Himself. For the madness of this avarice is
   not satisfied with any amount of riches.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXV.

   Of the deaths of Ananias and Sapphira, and Judas, which they underwent
   through the impulse of covetousness.

   Lastly, the chief of the apostles, taught by these instances, and
   knowing that one who has any avarice cannot bridle it, and that it
   cannot be put an end to by a large or small sum of money, but only by
   the virtue of renunciation of everything, punished with death Ananias
   and Sapphira, who were mentioned before, because they had kept back
   something out of their property, that that death which Judas had
   voluntarily met with for the sin of betraying the Lord, they might also
   undergo for their lying avarice. [904] How closely do the sin and
   punishment correspond in each case! In the one case treachery, in the
   other falsehood, was the result of covetousness. In the one case the
   truth is betrayed, in the other the sin of lying is committed. For
   though the issues of their deeds may appear different, yet they
   coincide in having one and the same aim. For the one, in order to
   escape poverty, desired to take back what he had forsaken; the others,
   for fear lest they might become poor, tried to keep back something out
   of their property, which they should have either offered to the Apostle
   in good faith, or have given entirely to the brethren. And so in each
   case there follows the judgment of death; because each sin sprang from
   the root of covetousness. And so if against those who did not covet
   other persons' goods, but tried to be sparing of their own, and had no
   desire to acquire, but only the wish to retain, there went forth so
   severe a sentence, what should we think of those who desire to amass
   wealth, without ever having had any of their own, and, making a show of
   poverty before men, are before God convicted of being rich, through the
   passion of avarice?
     __________________________________________________________________

   [904] Cf. Acts v.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVI.

   That covetousness brings upon the soul a spiritual leprosy.

   And such are seen to be lepers in spirit and heart, after the likeness
   of Gehazi, who, desiring the uncertain riches of this world, was
   covered with the taint of foul leprosy, through which he left us a
   clear example that every soul which is defiled with the stain of
   cupidity is covered with the spiritual leprosy of sin, and is counted
   as unclean before God with a perpetual curse.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVII.

   Scripture proofs by which one who is aiming at perfection is taught not
   to take back again what he has given up and renounced.

   If then through the desire of perfection you have forsaken all things
   and followed Christ who says to thee, "Go sell all that thou hast, and
   give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come
   follow me," [905] why, having put your hand to the plough, do you look
   back, so that you will be declared by the voice of the same Lord not to
   be fit for the kingdom of heaven? [906] When secure on the top of the
   gospel roof, why do you descend to carry away something from the house,
   from those things, namely, which beforetime you despised? When you are
   out in the field and working at the virtues, why do you run back and
   try to clothe yourself again with what belongs to this world, which you
   stripped off when you renounced it? [907] But if you were hindered by
   poverty from having anything to give up, still less ought you to amass
   what you never had before. For by the grace of the Lord you were for
   this purpose made ready that you might hasten to him the more readily,
   being hampered by no snares of wealth. But let no one who is wanting in
   this be disappointed; for there is no one who has not something to give
   up. He has renounced all the possessions of this world, whoever has
   thoroughly eradicated the desire to possess them.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [905] Matt. xix. 21.

   [906] Cf. S. Luke ix. 62.

   [907] Cf. S. Luke xvii. 31.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVIII.

   That the victory over covetousness can only be gained by stripping
   one's self bare of everything.

   This then is the perfect victory over covetousness: not to allow a
   gleam from the very smallest scrap of it to remain in our heart, as we
   know that we shall have no further power of quenching it, if we cherish
   even the tiniest bit of a spark of it in us.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIX.

   How a monk can retain his poverty.

   And we can only preserve this virtue unimpaired if we remain in a
   monastery, and as the Apostle says, having food and clothing, are
   therewith content. [908]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [908] 1 Tim. vi. 8.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXX.

   The remedies against the disease of covetousness.

   Keeping then in mind the judgment of Ananias and Sapphira let us dread
   keeping back any of those things which we gave up and vowed utterly to
   forsake. Let us also fear the example of Gehazi, who for the sin of
   covetousness was chastised with the punishment of perpetual leprosy.
   From this let us beware of acquiring that wealth which we never
   formerly possessed. Moreover also dreading both the fault and the death
   of Judas, let us with all the power that we have avoid taking back any
   of that wealth which once we cast away from us. Above all, considering
   the state of our weak and shifty nature, let us beware lest the day of
   the Lord come upon us as a thief in the night, [909] and find our
   conscience defiled even by a single penny; for this would make void all
   the fruits of our renunciation of the world, and cause that which was
   said to the rich man in the gospel to be directed towards us also by
   the voice of the Lord: "Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be
   required of thee: then whose shall those things be which thou hast
   prepared?" [910] And taking no thought for the morrow, let us never
   allow ourselves to be enticed away from the rule of the Coenobium.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [909] 1 Thess. v. 4.

   [910] S. Luke xii. 20.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXI.

   That no one can get the better of covetousness unless he stays in the
   Coenobium: and how one can remain there.

   But we shall certainly not be suffered to do this, nor even to remain
   under the rule of a system, unless the virtue of patience, which can
   only spring from humility as its source, is first securely fixed and
   established in us. For the one teaches us not to trouble any one else;
   the other, to endure with magnanimity wrongs offered to us.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Book VIII.

    Of the Spirit of Anger.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   How our fourth conflict is against the sin of anger, and how many evils
   this passion produces.

   In our fourth combat the deadly poison of anger has to be utterly
   rooted out from the inmost comers of our soul. For as long as this
   remains in our hearts, and blinds with its hurtful darkness the eye of
   the soul, we can neither acquire right judgment and discretion, nor
   gain the insight which springs from an honest gaze, or ripeness of
   counsel, nor can we be partakers of life, or retentive of
   righteousness, or even have the capacity for spiritual and true light:
   "for," says one, "mine eye is disturbed by reason of anger." [911] Nor
   can we become partakers of wisdom, even though we are considered wise
   by universal consent, for "anger rests in the bosom of fools." [912]
   Nor can we even attain immortal life, although we are accounted prudent
   in the opinion of everybody, for "anger destroys even the prudent."
   [913] Nor shall we be able with clear judgment of heart to secure the
   controlling power of righteousness, even though we are reckoned perfect
   and holy in the estimation of all men, for "the wrath of man worketh
   not the righteousness of God." [914] Nor can we by any possibility
   acquire that esteem and honour which is so frequently seen even in
   worldlings, even though we are thought noble and honourable through the
   privileges of birth, because "an angry man is dishonoured." [915] Nor
   again can we secure any ripeness of counsel, even though we appear to
   be weighty, and endowed with the utmost knowledge; because "an angry
   man acts without counsel." [916] Nor can we be free from dangerous
   disturbances, nor be without sin, even though no sort of disturbances
   be brought upon us by others; because "a passionate man engenders
   quarrels, but an angry man digs up sins." [917]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [911] Ps. xxx. (xxxi.) 10.

   [912] Eccl. vii. 10 (LXX.).

   [913] Prov. xv. 1 (LXX.).

   [914] S. James i. 20.

   [915] Prov. xi. 25 (LXX.).

   [916] Prov. xiv. 17 (LXX.).

   [917] Prov. xxix. 22 (LXX.).  'Aner thumodes egeirei neikos, aner de
   orgilos exoruxen hamartian. The old Latin as given by Sabatier has "Vir
   animosus parit zixas: vir autem iracundus effodit peccata." The verse
   is quoted by Gregory the Great in a passage which seems a reminiscence
   of Cassian's words with the reading effundit for effodit (Moral V.
   xxxi.). Jerome's rendering in the Vulgate is quite different: "Vir
   iracundus provocat zixas: et qui ad indignandum facilis est erit ad
   peccandum proclivior."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   Of those who say that anger is not injurious, if we are angry with
   those who do wrong, since God Himself is said to be angry.

   We have heard some people trying to excuse this most pernicious disease
   of the soul, in such a way as to endeavour to extenuate it by a rather
   shocking way of interpreting Scripture: as they say that it is not
   injurious if we are angry with the brethren who do wrong, since, say
   they, God Himself is said to rage and to be angry with those who either
   will not know Him, or, knowing Him, spurn Him, as here: "And the anger
   of the Lord was kindled against His people;" [918] or where the prophet
   prays and says, "O Lord, rebuke me not in thine anger, neither chasten
   me in thy displeasure;" [919] not understanding that, while they want
   to open to men an excuse for a most pestilent sin, they are ascribing
   to the Divine Infinity and Fountain of all purity a taint of human
   passion.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [918] Ps. cv. (cvi.) 40.

   [919] Ps. vi. 2.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   Of those things which are spoken of God anthropomorphically.

   For if when these things are said of God they are to be understood
   literally in a material gross signification, then also He sleeps, as it
   is said, "Arise, wherefore sleepest thou, O Lord?" [920] though it is
   elsewhere said of Him: "Behold he that keepeth Israel shall neither
   slumber nor sleep." [921] And He stands and sits, since He says,
   "Heaven is my seat, and earth the footstool for my feet:" [922] though
   He "measure out the heaven with his hand, and holdeth the earth in his
   fist." [923] And He is "drunken with wine" as it is said, "The Lord
   awoke like a sleeper, a mighty man, drunken with wine;" [924] He "who
   only hath immortality and dwelleth in the light which no man can
   approach unto:" [925] not to say anything of the "ignorance" and
   "forgetfulness," of which we often find mention in Holy Scripture: nor
   lastly of the outline of His limbs, which are spoken of as arranged and
   ordered like a man's; e.g., the hair, head, nostrils, eyes, face,
   hands, arms, fingers, belly, and feet: if we are willing to take all of
   which according to the bare literal sense, we must think of God as in
   fashion with the outline of limbs, and a bodily form; which indeed is
   shocking even to speak of, and must be far from our thoughts.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [920] Ps. xliii. (xliv.) 23.

   [921] Ps. cxx. (cxxi.) 4.

   [922] Isa. lxvi. 1.

   [923] Isa. xl. 12.

   [924] Ps. lxxvii. (lxxviii.) 65.

   [925] 1 Tim. vi. 16.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   In what sense we should understand the passions and human arts which
   are ascribed to the unchanging and incorporeal God.

   And so as without horrible profanity these things cannot be understood
   literally of Him who is declared by the authority of Holy Scripture to
   be invisible, ineffable, incomprehensible, inestimable, simple, and
   uncompounded, so neither can the passion of anger and wrath be
   attributed to that unchangeable nature without fearful blasphemy. For
   we ought to see that the limbs signify the divine powers and boundless
   operations of God, which can only be represented to us by the familiar
   expression of limbs: by the mouth we should understand that His
   utterances are meant, which are of His mercy continually poured into
   the secret senses of the soul, or which He spoke among our fathers and
   the prophets: by the eyes we can understand the boundless character of
   His sight with which He sees and looks through all things, and so
   nothing is hidden from Him of what is done or can be done by us, or
   even thought. By the expression "hands," we understand His providence
   and work, by which He is the creator and author of all things; the arms
   are the emblems of His might and government, with which He upholds,
   rules and controls all things. And not to speak of other things, what
   else does the hoary hair of His head signify but the eternity and
   perpetuity of Deity, through which He is without any beginning, and
   before all times, and excels all creatures? So then also when we read
   of the anger or fury of the Lord, we should take it not anthropopathos
   ; i.e., according to an unworthy meaning of human passion, [926] but in
   a sense worthy of God, who is free from all passion; so that by this we
   should understand that He is the judge and avenger of all the unjust
   things which are done in this world; and by reason of these terms and
   their meaning we should dread Him as the terrible rewarder of our
   deeds, and fear to do anything against His will. For human nature is
   wont to fear those whom it knows to be indignant, and is afraid of
   offending: as in the case of some most just judges, avenging wrath is
   usually feared by those who are tormented by some accusation of their
   conscience; not indeed that this passion exists in the minds of those
   who are going to judge with perfect equity, but that, while they so
   fear, the disposition of the judge towards them is that which is the
   precursor of a just and impartial execution of the law. And this, with
   whatever kindness and gentleness it may be conducted, is deemed by
   those who are justly to be punished to be the most savage wrath and
   vehement anger. It would be tedious and outside the scope of the
   present work were we to explain all the things which are spoken
   metaphorically of God in Holy Scripture, with human figures. Let it be
   enough for our present purpose, which is aimed against the sin of
   wrath, to have said this that no one may through ignorance draw down
   upon himself a cause of this evil and of eternal death, out of those
   Scriptures in which he should seek for saintliness and immortality as
   the remedies to bring life and salvation.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [926] On the heresy of the Anthropomorphites see the notes on
   Conference X. c. ii.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   How calm a monk ought to be.

   And so a monk aiming at perfection, and desiring to strive lawfully in
   his spiritual combat, should be free from all sin of anger and wrath,
   and should listen to the charge which the "chosen vessel" gives him.
   "Let all anger," says he, "and wrath, and clamour, and evil speaking,
   be taken away from among you, with all malice." [927] When he says,
   "Let all anger be taken away from you," he excepts none whatever as
   necessary or useful for us. And if need be, he should at once treat an
   erring brother in such a way that, while he manages to apply a remedy
   to one afflicted with perhaps a slight fever, he may not by his wrath
   involve himself in a more dangerous malady of blindness. For he who
   wants to heal another's wound ought to be in good health and free from
   every affection of weakness himself, lest that saying of the gospel
   should be used to him, "Physician, first heal thyself;" [928] and lest,
   seeing a mote in his brother's eye, he see not the beam in his own eye,
   for how will he see to cast out the mote from his brother's eye, who
   has the beam of anger in his own eye? [929]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [927] Eph. iv. 31.

   [928] S. Luke iv. 23.

   [929] Cf. S. Matt. vii. 3-5.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   Of the righteous and unrighteous passion of wrath.

   From almost every cause the emotion of wrath boils over, and blinds the
   eyes of the soul, and, bringing the deadly beam of a worse disease over
   the keenness of our sight, prevents us from seeing the sun of
   righteousness. It makes no difference whether gold plates, or lead, or
   what metal you please, are placed over our eyelids, the value of the
   metal makes no difference in our blindness.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   Of the only case in which anger is useful to us.

   We have, it must be admitted, a use for anger excellently implanted in
   us for which alone it is useful and profitable for us to admit it,
   viz., when we are indignant and rage against the lustful emotions of
   our heart, and are vexed that the things which we are ashamed to do or
   say before men have risen up in the lurking places of our heart, as we
   tremble at the presence of the angels, and of God Himself, who pervades
   all things everywhere, and fear with the utmost dread the eye of Him
   from whom the secrets of our hearts cannot possibly be hid.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Instances from the life of the blessed David in which anger was rightly
   felt.

   And at any rate (this is the case), when we are agitated against this
   very anger, because it has stolen on us against our brother, and when
   in wrath we expel its deadly incitements, nor suffer it to have a
   dangerous lurking place in the recesses of our heart. To be angry in
   this fashion even that prophet teaches us who had so completely
   expelled it from his own feelings that he would not retaliate even on
   his enemies and those delivered by God into his hands: when he says "Be
   ye angry and sin not." [930] For he, when he had longed for water from
   the well of Bethlehem, and had been given it by his mighty men, who had
   brought it through the midst of the hosts of the enemy, at once poured
   it out on the ground: and thus in his anger extinguished the delicious
   feeling of his desire, and poured it out to the Lord, without
   satisfying the longing that he had expressed, saying: "That be far from
   me that I should do this! Shall I drink the blood of those men who went
   forth on the danger of their souls?" [931] And when Shimei threw stones
   at King David and cursed him, in his hearing, before everybody, and
   Abishai, the son of Zeruiah, the captain of the host, wished to cut off
   his head and avenge the insult to the king, the blessed David moved
   with pious wrath against this dreadful suggestion of his, and keeping
   the due measure of humility and a strict patience, said with
   imperturbable gentleness, "What have I to do with you, ye sons of
   Zeruiah? Let him alone that he may curse. For the Lord hath commanded
   him to curse David. And who is he who shall dare to say, Why hast thou
   done this? Behold my son, who came forth from my loins, seeks my life,
   and how much more this son of Benjamin? Let him alone, that he may
   curse, according to the command of the Lord. It may be the Lord will
   look upon my affliction, and return to me good for this cursing
   to-day." [932]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [930] Ps. iv. 5.

   [931] 2 Sam. xxiii. 17.

   [932] 2 Sam. xvi. 10-12.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   Of the anger which should be directed against ourselves.

   And some are commanded to "be angry" after a wholesome fashion, but
   with our own selves, and with evil thoughts that arise, and "not to
   sin," viz., by bringing them to a bad issue. Finally, the next verse
   explains this to be the meaning more clearly: "The things you say in
   your hearts, be sorry for them on your beds:" [933] i.e., whatever you
   think of in your hearts when sudden and nervous excitements rush in on
   you, correct and amend with wholesome sorrow, lying as it were on a bed
   of rest, and removing by the moderating influence of counsel all noise
   and disturbance of wrath. Lastly, the blessed Apostle, when he made use
   of the testimony of this verse, and said, "Be ye angry and sin not,"
   added, "Let not the sun go down upon your wrath, neither give place to
   the devil." [934] If it is dangerous for the sun of righteousness to go
   down upon our wrath, and if when we are angry we straightway give place
   to the devil in our hearts, how is it that above he charges us to be
   angry, saying, "Be ye angry, and sin not"? Does he not evidently mean
   this: be ye angry with your faults and your tempers, lest, if you
   acquiesce in them, Christ, the sun of righteousness, may on account of
   your anger begin to go down on your darkened minds, and when He departs
   you may furnish a place for the devil in your hearts?
     __________________________________________________________________

   [933] Ps. iv. 5.

   [934] Eph. iv. 26.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   Of the sun, of which it is said that it should not go down upon your
   wrath.

   And of this sun God clearly makes mention by the prophet, when He says,
   "But to those that fear my name the sun of righteousness shall arise
   with healing in His wings." [935] And this again is said to "go down"
   at midday on sinners and false prophets, and those who are angry, when
   the prophet says, "Their sun is gone down at noon." [936] And at any
   rate "tropically" [937] the mind, that is the nous or reason, which is
   fairly called the sun because it looks over all the thoughts and
   discernings of the heart, should not be put out by the sin of anger:
   lest when it "goes down" the shadows of disturbance, together with the
   devil their author, fill all the feelings of our hearts, and,
   overwhelmed by the shadows of wrath, as in a murky night, we know not
   what we ought to do. In this sense it is that we have brought forward
   this passage of the Apostle, handed down to us by the teaching of the
   elders, because it was needful, even at the risk of a somewhat lengthy
   discourse, to show how they felt with regard to anger, for they do not
   permit it even for a moment to effect an entrance into our heart:
   observing with the utmost care that saying of the gospel: "Whosoever is
   angry with his brother is in danger of the judgment." [938] But if it
   be lawful to be angry up till sunset, the surfeit of our wrath and the
   vengeance of our anger will be able to give full play to passion and
   dangerous excitement before that sun inclines towards its setting.
   [939]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [935] Mal. iv. 2.

   [936] Amos viii. 9.

   [937] On the different senses of Scripture see the note on Conference
   XIV. viii.

   [938] S. Matt. v. 22.

   [939] Petschenig's text is as follows: Ceterum si usque ad occasum
   solis licitur sit irasci, ante furoris satietas et ultrices
   irae--commotionem poterunt noxiae perturbationis explere, quam sol iste
   ad locum sui vergat occasus. That of Gazaeus has "ante perturbationes
   noxiae poterunt furoris satietatem et ultricis irae commotionem
   explere, etc."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   Of those to whose wrath even the going down of the sun sets no limit.

   But what am I to say of those (and I cannot say it without shame on my
   own part) to whose implacability even the going down of the sun sets no
   bound: but prolonging it for several days, and nourishing rancorous
   feelings against those against whom they have been excited, they say in
   words that they are not angry, but in fact and deed they show that they
   are extremely disturbed? For they do not speak to them pleasantly, nor
   address them with ordinary civility, and they think that they are not
   doing wrong in this, because they do not seek to avenge themselves for
   their upset. But since they either do not dare, or at any rate are not
   able to show their anger openly, and give place to it, they drive in,
   to their own detriment, the poison of anger, and secretly cherish it in
   their hearts, and silently feed on it in themselves; without shaking
   off by an effort of mind their sulky disposition, but digesting it as
   the days go by, and somewhat mitigating it after a while.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   How this is the end of temper and anger when a man carries it into act
   as far as he can.

   But it looks as if even this was not the end of vengeance to every one,
   but some can only completely satisfy their wrath or sulkiness if they
   carry out the impulse of anger as far as they are able; and this we
   know to be the case with those who restrain their feelings, not from
   desire of calming them, but simply from want of opportunity of revenge.
   For they can do nothing more to those with whom they are angry, except
   speak to them without ordinary civility: or it looks as if anger was to
   be moderated only in action, and not to be altogether rooted out from
   its hiding place in our bosom: so that, overwhelmed by its shadows, we
   are unable not only to admit the light of wholesome counsel and of
   knowledge, but also to be a temple of the Holy Spirit, so long as the
   spirit of anger dwells in us. For wrath that is nursed in the heart,
   although it may not injure men who stand by, yet excludes the splendour
   of the radiance of the Holy Ghost, equally with wrath that is openly
   manifested.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   That we should not retain our anger even for an instant.

   Or how can we think that the Lord would have it retained even for an
   instant, since He does not permit us to offer the spiritual sacrifices
   of our prayers, if we are aware that another has any bitterness against
   us: saying, "If then thou bringest thy gift to the altar and there
   rememberest that thy brother hath aught against thee, leave there thy
   gift at the altar and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy brother,
   and then come and offer thy gift." [940] How then may we retain
   displeasure against our brother, I will not say for several days, but
   even till the going down of the sun, if we are not allowed to offer our
   prayers to God while he has anything against us? And yet we are
   commanded by the Apostle: "Pray without ceasing;" [941] and "in every
   place lifting up holy hands without wrath and disputing." [942] It
   remains then either that we never pray at all, retaining this poison in
   our hearts, and become guilty in regard of this apostolic or evangelic
   charge, in which we are bidden to pray everywhere and without ceasing;
   or else if, deceiving ourselves, we venture to pour forth our prayers,
   contrary to His command, we must know that we are offering to God no
   prayer, but an obstinate temper with a rebellious spirit.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [940] S. Matt. v. 23, 24.

   [941] 1 Thess. v. 17.

   [942] 1 Tim. ii. 8.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   Of reconciliation with our brother.

   And because we often spurn the brethren who are injured and saddened,
   and despise them, and say that they were not hurt by any fault of ours,
   the Healer of souls, who knows all secrets, wishing utterly to
   eradicate all opportunities of anger from our hearts, not only commands
   us to forgive if we have been wronged, and to be reconciled with our
   brothers, and keep no recollection of wrong or injuries against them,
   but He also gives a similar charge, that in case we are aware that they
   have anything against us, whether justly or unjustly, we should leave
   our gift, that is, postpone our prayers, and hasten first to offer
   satisfaction to them; and so when our brother's cure is first effected,
   we may bring the offering of our prayers without blemish. For the
   common Lord of all does not care so much for our homage as to lose in
   one what He gains in another, through displeasure being allowed to
   reign in us. For in any one's loss He suffers some loss, who desires
   and looks for the salvation of all His servants in one and the same
   way. And therefore our prayer will lose its effect, if our brother has
   anything against us, just as much as if we were cherishing feelings of
   bitterness against him in a swelling and wrathful spirit.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   How the Old Law would root out anger not only from the actions but from
   the thoughts.

   But why should we spend any more time over evangelic and apostolic
   precepts, when even the old law, which is thought to be somewhat slack,
   guards against the same thing, when it says, "Thou shalt not hate thy
   brother in thine heart;" and again, "Be not mindful of the injury of
   thy citizens;" [943] and again, "The ways of those who preserve the
   recollection of wrongs are towards death"? [944] You see there too that
   wickedness is restrained not only in action, but also in the secret
   thoughts, since it is commanded that hatred be utterly rooted out from
   the heart, and not merely retaliation for, but the very recollection
   of, a wrong done.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [943] Lev. xix. 17, 18.

   [944] Prov. xii. 28 (LXX.).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   How useless is the retirement of those who do not give up their bad
   manners.

   Sometimes when we have been overcome by pride or impatience, and we
   want to improve our rough and bearish manners, we complain that we
   require solitude, as if we should find the virtue of patience there
   where nobody provokes us: and we apologize for our carelessness, and
   say that the reason of our disturbance does not spring from our own
   impatience, but from the fault of our brethren. And while we lay the
   blame of our fault on others, we shall never be able to reach the goal
   of patience and perfection.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   That the peace of our heart does not depend on another's will, but lies
   in our own control.

   The chief part then of our improvement and peace of mind must not be
   made to depend on another's will, which cannot possibly be subject to
   our authority, but it lies rather in our own control. And so the fact
   that we are not angry ought not to result from another's perfection,
   but from our own virtue, which is acquired, not by somebody else's
   patience, but by our own long-suffering.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   Of the zeal with which we should seek the desert, and of the things in
   which we make progress there.

   Further, it is those who are perfect and purified from all faults who
   ought to seek the desert, and when they have thoroughly exterminated
   all their faults amid the assembly of the brethren, they should enter
   it not by way of cowardly flight, but for the purpose of divine
   contemplation, and with the desire of deeper insight into heavenly
   things, which can only be gained in solitude by those who are perfect.
   For whatever faults we bring with us uncured into the desert, we shall
   find to remain concealed in us and not to be got rid of. For just as
   when the character has been improved, solitude can lay open to it the
   purest contemplation, and reveal the knowledge of spiritual mysteries
   to its clear gaze, so it generally not only preserves but intensifies
   the faults of those who have undergone no correction. For a man appears
   to himself to be patient and humble, just as long as he comes across
   nobody in intercourse; but he will presently revert to his former
   nature, whenever the chance of any sort of passion occurs: I mean that
   those faults will at once appear on the surface which were lying hid,
   and, like unbridled horses diligently fed up during too long a time of
   idleness, dash forth from the barriers the more eagerly and fiercely,
   to the destruction of their charioteer. For when the opportunity for
   practising them among men is removed, our faults will more and more
   increase in us, unless we have first been purified from them. And the
   mere shadow of patience, which, when we mixed with our brethren, we
   seemed fancifully to possess, at least out of respect for them and
   publicity, we lose altogether through sloth and carelessness.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   An illustration to help in forming an opinion on those who are only
   patient when they are not tried by any one.

   But it is like all poisonous kinds of serpents or of wild beasts,
   which, while they remain in solitude and their own lairs, are still not
   harmless; [945] for they cannot really be said to be harmless, because
   they are not actually hurting anybody. For this results in their case,
   not from any feeling of goodness, but from the exigencies of solitude,
   and when they have secured an opportunity of hurting some one, at once
   they produce the poison stored up in them, and show the ferocity of
   their nature. And so in the case of men who are aiming at perfection,
   it is not enough not to be angry with men. For we recollect that when
   we were living in solitude a feeling of irritation would creep over us
   against our pen because it was too large or too small; against our
   penknife when it cut badly and with a blunt edge what we wanted cut;
   and against a flint if by chance when we were rather late and hurrying
   to the reading, a spark of fire flashed out, so that we could not
   remove and get rid of our perturbation of mind except by cursing the
   senseless matter, or at least the devil. Wherefore for a method of
   perfection it will not be of any use for there to be a dearth of men
   against whom our anger might be roused: since, if patience has not
   already been acquired, the feelings of passion which still dwell in our
   hearts can equally well spend themselves on dumb things and paltry
   objects, and not allow us to gain a continuous state of peacefulness,
   or to be free from our remaining faults: unless perhaps we think that
   some advantage and a sort of cure may be gained for our passion from
   the fact that inanimate and speechless things cannot possibly reply to
   our curses and rage, nor provoke our ungovernable temper to break out
   into a worse madness of passion.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [945] Reading non innoxia (Petschenig).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   Of the way in which auger should be banished according to the gospel.

   Wherefore if we wish to gain the substance of that divine reward of
   which it is said, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see
   God," [946] we ought not only to banish it from our actions, but
   entirely to root it out from our inmost soul. For it will not be of any
   good to have checked anger in words, and not to have shown it in deeds,
   if God, from whom the secrets of the heart are not hid, sees that it
   remains in the secret recesses of our bosom. For the word of the gospel
   bids us destroy the roots of our faults rather than the fruits; for
   these, when the incitements are all removed, will certainly not put
   forth shoots any more; and so the mind will be able to continue in all
   patience and holiness, when this anger has been removed, not from the
   surface of acts and deeds, but from the very innermost thoughts. And,
   therefore to avoid the commission of murder, anger and hatred are cut
   off, without which the crime of murder cannot possibly be committed.
   For "whosoever is angry with his brother, is in danger of the
   judgment;" [947] and "whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer;"
   [948] viz., because in his heart he desires to kill him, whose blood we
   know that he has certainly not shed among men with his own hand or with
   a weapon; yet, owing to his burst of anger, he is declared to be a
   murderer by God, who renders to each man, not merely for the result of
   his actions, but for his purpose and desires and wishes, either a
   reward or a punishment; according to that which He Himself says through
   the prophet: "But I come that I may gather them together with all
   nations and tongues;" [949] and again: [950] "Their thoughts between
   themselves accusing or also defending one another, in the day when God
   shall judge the secrets of men." [951]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [946] S. Matt. v. 8.

   [947] Ib. ver. 22.

   [948] 1 John iii. 15.

   [949] Isaiah lxvi. 18.

   [950] Et rursum (Petschenig): et Apostolus (Gazaeus).

   [951] Rom. ii. 15, 16.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   Whether we ought to admit the addition of "without a cause," in that
   which is written in the Gospel, "whosoever is angry with his brother,"
   etc.

   But you should know that in this, which is found in many copies,
   "Whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause, is in danger of
   the judgment," [952] the words "without a cause" are superfluous, and
   were added by those who did not think that anger for just causes was to
   be banished: since certainly nobody, however unreasonably he is
   disturbed, would say that he was angry without a cause. Wherefore it
   appears to have been added by those who did not understand the drift of
   Scripture, which intended altogether to banish the incentive to anger,
   and to reserve no occasion whatever for indignation; lest while we were
   commanded to be angry with a cause, an opportunity for being angry
   without a cause might occur to us. For the end and aim of patience
   consists, not in being angry with a good reason, but in not being angry
   at all. Although I know that by some this very expression, "without a
   cause," is taken to mean that he is angry without a cause who when he
   is angered is not allowed to seek for vengeance. But it is better so to
   take it as we find it written in many modern copies and all the ancient
   ones.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [952] S. Matt. v. 22. The word eike is said by Westcott and Host to be
   "Western and Syrian." It is wanting in ', B, Origen, and was not
   admitted by Jerome in the Vulgate.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   The remedies by which we can root out anger from our hearts.

   Wherefore the athlete of Christ who strives lawfully ought thoroughly
   to root out the feeling of wrath. And it will be a sure remedy for this
   disease, if in the first place we make up our mind that we ought never
   to be angry at all, whether for good or bad reasons: as we know that we
   shall at once lose the light of discernment, and the security of good
   counsel, and our very uprightness, and the temperate character of
   righteousness, if the main light of our heart has been darkened by its
   shadows: next, that the purity of our soul will presently be clouded,
   and that it cannot possibly be made a temple for the Holy Ghost while
   the spirit of anger resides in us; lastly, that we should consider that
   we ought never to pray, nor pour out our prayer to God, while we are
   angry. And above all, having before our eyes the uncertain condition of
   mankind, we should realize daily that we are soon to depart from the
   body, and that our continence and chastity, our renunciation of all our
   possessions, our contempt of wealth, our efforts in fastings and vigils
   will not help us at all, if solely on account of anger and hatred
   eternal punishments are awarded to us by the judge of the world.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Book IX.

    Of the Spirit of Dejection.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   How our fifth combat is against the spirit of dejection, and of the
   harm which it inflicts upon the soul.

   In our fifth combat we have to resist the pangs of gnawing dejection:
   for if this, through separate attacks made at random, and by haphazard
   and casual changes, has secured an opportunity of gaining possession of
   our mind it keeps us back at all times from all insight in divine
   contemplation, and utterly ruins and depresses the mind that has fallen
   away from its complete state of purity. It does not allow it to say its
   prayers with its usual gladness of heart, nor permit it to rely on the
   comfort of reading the sacred writings, nor suffer it to be quiet and
   gentle with the brethren; it makes it impatient and rough in all the
   duties of work and devotion: and, as all wholesome counsel is lost, and
   steadfastness of heart destroyed, it makes the feelings almost mad and
   drunk, and crushes and overwhelms them with penal despair.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   Of the care with which the malady of dejection must be healed.

   Wherefore if we are anxious to exert ourselves lawfully in the struggle
   of our spiritual combat we ought with no less care to set about healing
   this malady also. For "as the moth injures the garment, and the worm
   the wood, so dejection the heart of man." [953] With sufficient
   clearness and appropriateness has the Divine Spirit expressed the force
   of this dangerous and most injurious fault.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [953] Prov. xxv. 20 (LXX.).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   To what the soul may be compared which is a prey to the attacks of
   dejection.

   For the garment that is moth-eaten has no longer any commercial value
   or good use to which it can be put; and in the same way [954] the wood
   that is worm-eaten is no longer worth anything for ornamenting even an
   ordinary building, but is destined to be burnt in the fire. So
   therefore the soul also which is a prey to the attacks of gnawing
   dejection will be useless for that priestly garment which, according to
   the prophecy of the holy David, the ointment of the Holy Spirit coming
   down from heaven, first on Aaron's beard, then on his skirts, is wont
   to assume: as it is said, "It is like the ointment upon the head which
   ran down upon Aaron's beard, which ran down to the skirts of his
   clothing." [955] Nor can it have anything to do with the building or
   ornamentation of that spiritual temple of which Paul as a wise master
   builder laid the foundations, saying, "Ye are the temple of God, and
   the Spirit of God dwelleth in you:" [956] and what the beams of this
   are like the bride tells us in the Song of Songs: "Our rafters are of
   cypress: the beams of our houses are of cedar." [957] And therefore
   those sorts of wood are chosen for the temple of God which are fragrant
   and not liable to rot, and which are not subject to decay from age nor
   to be worm-eaten.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [954] Totidem is used here by Cassian for itidem, as in III. ix.

   [955] Ps. cxxxii. (cxxxiii.) 2.

   [956] 1 Cor. iii. 16; vi. 16.

   [957] Cant. i. 16 (LXX.).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   Whence and in what way dejection arises.

   But sometimes it is found to result from the fault of previous anger,
   or to spring from the desire of some gain which has not been realized,
   when a man has found that he has failed in his hope of securing those
   things which he had planned. But sometimes without any apparent reason
   for our being driven to fall into this misfortune, we are by the
   instigation of our crafty enemy suddenly depressed with so great a
   gloom that we cannot receive with ordinary civility the visits of those
   who are near and dear to us; and whatever subject of conversation is
   started by them, we regard it as ill-timed and out of place; and we can
   give them no civil answer, as the gall of bitterness is in possession
   of every corner of our heart.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   That disturbances are caused in us not by the faults of other people,
   but by our own.

   Whence it is clearly proved that the pains of disturbances are not
   always caused in us by other people's faults, but rather by our own, as
   we have stored up in ourselves the causes of offence, and the seeds of
   faults, which, as soon as a shower of temptation waters our soul, at
   once burst forth into shoots and fruits.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   That no one comes to grief by a sudden fall, but is destroyed by
   falling through a long course of carelessness. [958]

   For no one is ever driven to sin by being provoked through another's
   fault, unless he has the fuel of evil stored up in his own heart. Nor
   should we imagine that a man has been deceived suddenly when he has
   looked on a woman and fallen into the abyss of shameful lust: but
   rather that, owing to the opportunity of looking on her, the symptoms
   of disease which were hidden and concealed in his inmost soul have been
   brought to the surface.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [958] Incuriam (Petschenig): Injuriam (Gazaeus).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   That we ought not to give up intercourse with our brethren in order to
   seek after perfection, but should rather constantly cultivate the
   virtue of patience.

   And so God, the creator of all things, having regard above everything
   to the amendment of His own work, and because the roots and causes of
   our falls are found not in others, but in ourselves, commands that we
   should not give up intercourse with our brethren, nor avoid those who
   we think have been hurt by us, or by whom we have been offended, but
   bids us pacify them, knowing that perfection of heart is not secured by
   separating from men so much as by the virtue of patience. Which when it
   is securely held, as it can keep us at peace even with those who hate
   peace, so, if it has not been acquired, it makes us perpetually differ
   from those who are perfect and better than we are: for opportunities
   for disturbance, on account of which we are eager to get away from
   those with whom we are connected, will not be wanting so long as we are
   living among men; and therefore we shall not escape altogether, but
   only change the causes of dejection on account of which we separated
   from our former friends.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   That if we have improved our character it is possible for us to get on
   with everybody.

   We must then do our best to endeavour to amend our faults and correct
   our manners. And if we succeed in correcting them we shall certainly be
   at peace, I will not say with men, but even with beasts and the brute
   creation, according to what is said in the book of the blessed Job:
   "For the beasts of the field will be at peace with thee;" [959] for we
   shall not fear offences coming from without, nor will any occasion of
   falling trouble us from outside, if the roots of such are not admitted
   and implanted within in our own selves: for "they have great peace who
   love thy law, O God; and they have no occasion of falling." [960]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [959] Job v. 23.

   [960] Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 165.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   Of another sort of dejection which produces despair of salvation.

   There is, too, another still more objectionable sort of dejection,
   which produces in the guilty soul no amendment of life or correction of
   faults, but the most destructive despair: which did not make Cain
   repent after the murder of his brother, or Judas, after the betrayal,
   hasten to relieve himself by making amends, but drove him to hang
   himself in despair.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   Of the only thing in which dejection is useful to us.

   And so we must see that dejection is only useful to us in one case,
   when we yield to it either in penitence for sin, or through being
   inflamed with the desire of perfection, or the contemplation of future
   blessedness. And of this the blessed Apostle says: "The sorrow which is
   according to God worketh repentance steadfast unto salvation: but the
   sorrow of the world worketh death." [961]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [961] 2 Cor. vii. 10.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   How we can decide what is useful and the sorrow according to God, and
   what is devilish and deadly.

   But that dejection and sorrow which "worketh repentance steadfast unto
   salvation" is obedient, civil, humble, kindly, gentle, and patient, as
   it springs from the love of God, and unweariedly extends itself from
   desire of perfection to every bodily grief and sorrow of spirit; and
   somehow or other rejoicing and feeding on hope of its own profit
   preserves all the gentleness of courtesy and forbearance, as it has in
   itself all the fruits of the Holy Spirit of which the same Apostle
   gives the list: "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace,
   forbearance, goodness, benignity, faith, mildness, modesty." [962] But
   the other kind is rough, impatient, hard, full of rancour and useless
   grief and penal despair, and breaks down the man on whom it has
   fastened, and hinders him from energy and wholesome sorrow, as it is
   unreasonable, and not only hampers the efficacy of his prayers, but
   actually destroys all those fruits of the Spirit of which we spoke,
   which that other sorrow knows how to produce.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [962] Gal. v. 22, 23.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   That except that wholesome sorrow, which springs up in three ways, all
   sorrow and dejection should be resisted as hurtful.

   Wherefore except that sorrow which is endured either for the sake of
   saving penitence, or for the sake of aiming at perfection, or for the
   desire of the future, all sorrow and dejection must equally be
   resisted, as belonging to this world, and being that which "worketh
   death," and must be entirely expelled from our hearts like the spirit
   of fornication and covetousness and anger.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   The means by which we can root out dejection from our hearts.

   We should then be able to expel this most injurious passion from our
   hearts, so that by spiritual meditation we may keep our mind constantly
   occupied with hope of the future and contemplation of the promised
   blessedness. For in this way we shall be able to get the better of all
   those sorts of dejection, whether those which flow from previous anger
   or those which come to us from disappointment of gain, or from some
   loss, or those which spring from a wrong done to us, or those which
   arise from an unreasonable disturbance of mind, or those which bring on
   us a deadly despair, if, ever joyful with an insight into things
   eternal and future, and continuing immovable, we are not depressed by
   present accidents, or over-elated by prosperity, but look on each
   condition as uncertain and likely soon to pass away.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Book X.

    Of the Spirit of Accidie. [963]
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   How our sixth combat is against the spirit of accidie, and what its
   character is.

   Our sixth combat is with what the Greeks call akedia, which we may term
   weariness or distress of heart. This is akin to dejection, and is
   especially trying to solitaries, and a dangerous and frequent foe to
   dwellers in the desert; and especially disturbing to a monk about the
   sixth hour, like some fever which seizes him at stated times, bringing
   the burning heat of its attacks on the sick man at usual and regular
   hours. Lastly, there are some of the elders who declare that this is
   the "midday demon" spoken of in the ninetieth Psalm. [964]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [964] Ps. xc. (xci.) 6, where the Latin "et daemonio meridiano" follows
   the LXX. kai daimoniou mesembrinou, instead of "the destruction that
   wasteth at noonday."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   A description of accidie, and the way in which it creeps over the heart
   of a monk, and the injury it inflicts on the soul.

   And when this has taken possession of some unhappy soul, it produces
   dislike of the place, disgust with the cell, and disdain and contempt
   of the brethren who dwell with him or at a little distance, as if they
   were careless or unspiritual. It also makes the man lazy and sluggish
   about all manner of work which has to be done within the enclosure of
   his dormitory. It does not suffer him to stay in his cell, or to take
   any pains about reading, and he often groans because he can do no good
   while he stays there, and complains and sighs because he can bear no
   spiritual fruit so long as he is joined to that society; and he
   complains that he is cut off from spiritual gain, and is of no use in
   the place, as if he were one who, though he could govern others and be
   useful to a great number of people, yet was edifying none, nor
   profiting any one by his teaching and doctrine. He cries up distant
   monasteries and those which are a long way off, and describes such
   places as more profitable and better suited for salvation; and besides
   this he paints the intercourse with the brethren there as sweet and
   full of spiritual life. On the other hand, he says that everything
   about him is rough, and not only that there is nothing edifying among
   the brethren who are stopping there, but also that even food for the
   body cannot be procured without great difficulty. Lastly he fancies
   that he will never be well while he stays in that place, unless he
   leaves his cell (in which he is sure to die if he stops in it any
   longer) and takes himself off from thence as quickly as possible. Then
   the fifth or sixth hour brings him such bodily weariness and longing
   for food that he seems to himself worn out and wearied as if with a
   long journey, or some very heavy work, or as if he had put off taking
   food during a fast of two or three days. Then besides this he looks
   about anxiously this way and that, and sighs that none of the brethren
   come to see him, and often goes in and out of his cell, and frequently
   gazes up at the sun, as if it was too slow in setting, and so a kind of
   unreasonable confusion of mind takes possession of him like some foul
   darkness, [965] and makes him idle and useless for every spiritual
   work, so that he imagines that no cure for so terrible an attack can be
   found in anything except visiting some one of the brethren, or in the
   solace of sleep alone. Then the disease suggests that he ought to show
   courteous and friendly hospitalities to the brethren, and pay visits to
   the sick, whether near at hand or far off. He talks too about some
   dutiful and religious offices; that those kinsfolk ought to be inquired
   after, and that he ought to go and see them oftener; that it would be a
   real work of piety to go more frequently to visit that religious woman,
   devoted to the service of God, who is deprived of all support of
   kindred; and that it would be a most excellent thing to get what is
   needful for her who is neglected and despised by her own kinsfolk; and
   that he ought piously to devote his time to these things instead of
   staying uselessly and with no profit in his cell.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [965] Velut taetra suppletur caligine (Petschenig); the text of Gazaeus
   reads terra for taetra.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   Of the different ways in which accidie overcomes a monk.

   And so the wretched soul, embarrassed by such contrivances of the
   enemy, is disturbed, until, worn out by the spirit of accidie, as by
   some strong battering ram, it either learns to sink into slumber, or,
   driven out from the confinement of its cell, accustoms itself to seek
   for consolation under these attacks in visiting some brother, only to
   be afterwards weakened the more by this remedy which it seeks for the
   present. For more frequently and more severely will the enemy attack
   one who, when the battle is joined, will as he well knows immediately
   turn his back, and whom he sees to look for safety neither in victory
   nor in fighting but in flight: until little by little he is drawn away
   from his cell, and begins to forget the object of his profession, which
   is nothing but meditation and contemplation of that divine purity which
   excels all things, and which can only be gained by silence and
   continually remaining in the cell, and by meditation, and so the
   soldier of Christ becomes a runaway from His service, and a deserter,
   and "entangles himself in secular business," without at all pleasing
   Him to whom he engaged himself. [966]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [966] 2 Tim. ii. 4.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   How accidie hinders the mind from all contemplation of the virtues.

   All the inconveniences of this disease are admirably expressed by David
   in a single verse, where he says, "My soul slept from weariness," [967]
   that is, from accidie. Quite rightly does he say, not that his body,
   but that his soul slept. For in truth the soul which is wounded by the
   shaft of this passion does sleep, as regards all contemplation of the
   virtues and insight of the spiritual senses.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [967] Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 28, where the LXX. has enustaxen he psuche
   mou apo akedias.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   How the attack of accidie is twofold.

   And so the true Christian athlete who desires to strive lawfully in the
   lists of perfection, should hasten to expel this disease also from the
   recesses of his soul; and should strive against this most evil spirit
   of accidie in both directions, so that he may neither fall stricken
   through by the shaft of slumber, nor be driven out from the monastic
   cloister, even though under some pious excuse or pretext, and depart as
   a runaway.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   How injurious are the effects of accidie.

   And whenever it begins in any degree to overcome any one, it either
   makes him stay in his cell idle and lazy, without making any spiritual
   progress, or it drives him out from thence and makes him restless and a
   wanderer, and indolent in the matter of all kinds of work, and it makes
   him continually go round, the cells of the brethren and the
   monasteries, with an eye to nothing but this; viz., where or with what
   excuse he can presently procure some refreshment. For the mind of an
   idler cannot think of anything but food and the belly, until the
   society of some man or woman, equally cold and indifferent, is secured,
   and it loses itself in their affairs and business, and is thus little
   by little ensnared by dangerous occupations, so that, just as if it
   were bound up in the coils of a serpent, it can never disentangle
   itself again and return to the perfection of its former profession.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   Testimonies from the Apostle concerning the spirit of accidie.

   The blessed Apostle, like a true and spiritual physician, either seeing
   this disease, which springs from the spirit of accidie, already
   creeping in, or foreseeing, through the revelation of the Holy Spirit,
   that it would arise among monks, is quick to anticipate it by the
   healing medicines of his directions. For in writing to the
   Thessalonians, and at first, like a skilful and excellent physician,
   applying to the infirmity of his patients the soothing and gentle
   remedy of his words, and beginning with charity, and praising them in
   that point, that [968] this deadly wound, having been treated with a
   milder remedy, might lose its angry festering and more easily bear
   severer treatment, he says: "But concerning brotherly charity ye have
   no need that I write to you: for you yourselves are taught of God to
   love one another. For this ye do toward all the brethren in the whole
   of Macedonia." [969] He first began with the soothing application of
   praise, and made their ears submissive and ready for the remedy of the
   healing words. Then he proceeds: "But we ask you, brethren, to abound
   more." Thus far he soothes them with kind and gentle words; for fear
   lest he should find them not yet prepared to receive their perfect
   cure.  Why is it that you ask, O Apostle, that they may abound more in
   charity, of which you had said above, "But concerning brotherly charity
   we have no need to write to you"? And why is it necessary that you
   should say to them: "But we ask you to abound more," when they did not
   need to be written to at all on this matter? especially as you add the
   reason why they do not need it, saying, "For you yourselves have been
   taught of God to love one another." And you add a third thing still
   more important: that not only have they been taught of God, but also
   that they fulfil in deed that which they are taught. "For ye do this,"
   he says, not to one or two, but "to all the brethren;" and not to your
   own citizens and friends only, but "in the whole of Macedonia." Tell us
   then, I pray, why it is that you so particularly begin with this. Again
   he proceeds, "But we ask you, brethren, to abound the more." And with
   difficulty at last he breaks out into that at which he was driving
   before: "and that ye take pains to be quiet." He gave the first aim.
   Then he adds a second, "and to do your own business;" and a third as
   well: "and work with your own hands, as we commanded you;" a fourth:
   "and to walk honestly towards those that are without;" a fifth: "and to
   covet no man's goods." Lo, we can see through that hesitation, which
   made him with these preludes put off uttering what his mind was full
   of: "And that ye take pains to be quiet;" i.e., that you stop in your
   cells, and be not disturbed by rumours, which generally spring from the
   wishes and gossip of idle persons, and so yourselves disturb others.
   And, "to do your own business," you should not want to require
   curiously of the world's actions, or, examining the lives of others,
   want to spend your strength, not on bettering yourselves and aiming at
   virtue, but on depreciating your brethren. "And work with your own
   hands, as we charged you;" to secure that which he had warned them
   above not to do; i.e., that they should not be restless and anxious
   about other people's affairs, nor walk dishonestly towards those
   without, nor covet another man's goods, he now adds and says, "and work
   with your own hands, as we charged you." For he has clearly shown that
   leisure the reason why those things were done which he blamed above.
   For no one can be restless or anxious about other people's affairs, but
   one who is not satisfied to apply himself to the work of his own hands.
   He adds also a fourth evil, which springs also from this leisure, i.e.,
   that they should not walk dishonestly: when he says: "And that ye walk
   honestly towards those without." He cannot possibly walk honestly, even
   among those who are men of this world, who is not content to cling to
   the seclusion of his cell and the work of his own hands; but he is sure
   to be dishonest, while he seeks his needful food; and to take pains to
   flatter, to follow up news and gossip, to seek for opportunities for
   chattering and stories by means of which he may gain a footing and
   obtain an entrance into the houses of others. "And that you should not
   covet another man's goods." He is sure to look with envious eyes on
   another's gifts and boons, who does not care to secure sufficient for
   his daily food by the dutiful and peaceful labour of his hands. You see
   what conditions, and how serious and shameful ones, spring solely from
   the malady of leisure. Lastly, those very people, whom in his first
   Epistle he had treated with the gentle application of his words, in his
   second Epistle he endeavours to heal with severer and sterner remedies,
   as those who had not profited by more gentle treatment; and he no
   longer applies the treatment of gentle words, no mild and kindly
   expressions, as these, "But we ask you, brethren," but "We adjure you,
   brethren, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that ye withdraw from
   every brother that walketh disorderly." [970] There he asks; here he
   adjures. There is the kindness of one who is persuading; here the
   sternness of one protesting and threatening. "We adjure you, brethren:"
   because, when we first asked you, you scorned to listen; now at least
   obey our threats. And this adjuration he renders terrible, not by his
   bare word, but by the imprecation of the name of our Lord Jesus Christ:
   for fear lest they might again scorn it, as merely man's word, and
   think that it was not of much importance. And forthwith, like a
   well-skilled physician with festering limbs, to which he could not
   apply the remedy of a mild treatment, he tries to cure by an incision
   with a spiritual knife, saying, "that ye withdraw yourselves from every
   brother that walketh disorderly, and not according to the tradition
   which ye received of us." And so he bids them withdraw from those who
   will not make time for work, and to cut them off like limbs tainted
   with the festering sores of leisure: lest the malady of idleness, like
   some deadly contagion, might infect even the healthy portion of their
   limbs, by the gradual advance of infection. And when he is going to
   speak of those who will not work with their own hands and eat their
   bread in quietness, from whom he urges them to withdraw, hear with what
   reproaches he brands them at starting. First he calls them
   "disorderly," and "not walking according to the tradition." In other
   words, he stigmatizes them as obstinate, since they will not walk
   according to his appointment; and "dishonest," i.e., not keeping to the
   right and proper times for going out, and visiting, and talking. For a
   disorderly person is sure to be subject to all those faults. "And not
   according to the tradition which they received from us." And in this he
   stamps them as in some sort rebellious, and despisers, who scorned to
   keep the tradition which they had received from him, and would not
   follow that which they not only remembered that the master had taught
   in word, but which they knew that he had performed in deed. "For you
   yourselves know how ye ought to be followers of us." He heaps up an
   immense pile of censure when he asserts that they did not observe that
   which was still in their memory, and which not only had they learned by
   verbal instruction, but also had received by the incitement of his
   example in working.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [968] Quousque is used as equivalent to donec, again in Conf. XXIII.
   xii.

   [969] 1 Thess. iv. 9, 10.

   [970] 2 Thess. iii. 6.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   That he is sure to be restless who will not be content with the work of
   his own hands.

   "Because we were not restless among you." When he wants to prove by the
   practice of work that he was not restless among them, he fully shows
   that those who will not work are always restless, owing to the fault of
   idleness. "Nor did we eat any man's bread for nought." By each
   expression the teacher of the Gentiles advances a step in the rebuke.
   [971] The preacher of the gospel says that he has not eaten any man's
   bread for nought, as he knows that the Lord commanded that "they who
   preach the gospel should live of the gospel:" [972] again, "The
   labourer is worthy of his meat." [973] And so if he who preached the
   gospel, performing a work so lofty and spiritual, did not venture in
   reliance on the Lord's command to eat his bread for nought, what shall
   we do to whom not merely is there no preaching of the word intrusted,
   but no cure of souls except our own committed? with what confidence
   shall we dare with idle hands to eat our bread for nought, when the
   "chosen vessel," constrained by his anxiety for the gospel and his work
   of preaching, did not venture to eat without labouring with his own
   hands? "But in labour," he says "and weariness, working night and day
   lest we should be burdensome to any of you." [974] Up to this point he
   amplifies and adds to his rebuke. For he did not simply say, "We did
   not eat bread for nought from any of you," and then stop short. For it
   might have been thought that he was supported by his own private means,
   and by money which he had saved, or by other people's, though not by
   their collections and gifts. "But in labour," he says, "and weariness,
   working night and day;" that is, being specially supported by our own
   labour. And this, he says, we did not of our own wish, and for our own
   pleasure, as rest and bodily exercise suggested, but as our necessities
   and the want of food compelled us to do, and that not without great
   bodily weariness. For not only throughout the whole day, but also by
   night, which seems to be granted for bodily rest, I was continually
   plying the work of my hands, through anxiety for food.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [971] Increpationis (Petschenig). Interpretationis (Gazaeus).

   [972] 1 Cor. ix. 14.

   [973] S. Matt. x. 10.

   [974] 2 Thess. iii. 8.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   That not the Apostle only, but those two who were with him laboured
   with their own hands.

   And he testifies that it was not he alone who so lived among them, lest
   haply this method might not seem important or general if he depended
   only on his example. But he declares that all those who were appointed
   with him for the ministry of the gospel, i.e., Silvanus and Timothy,
   who wrote this with him, worked in the same fashion. For by saying,
   "lest we should be burdensome to any of you, he covers them with great
   shame. For if he who preached the gospel and commended it by signs and
   mighty works, did not dare to eat bread for nought, lest he should be
   burdensome to any, how can those men help thinking that they are
   burdensome who take it every day in idleness and at their leisure?
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   That for this reason the Apostle laboured with his own hands, that he
   might set us an example of work.

   "Not as if we had not power; but that we might give ourselves a pattern
   to you to imitate us." He lays bare the reason why he imposed such
   labour on himself: "that we might," says he, "give a pattern to you to
   imitate us, that if by chance you become forgetful of the teaching of
   our words which so often passes through your ears, you may at least
   keep in your recollection the example of my manner of life given to you
   by ocular demonstration. There is here too no slight reproof of them,
   where he says that he has gone through this labour and weariness by
   night and day, for no other reason but to set an example, and that
   nevertheless they would not be instructed, for whose sakes he, although
   not obliged to do it, yet imposed on himself such toil. "And indeed,"
   he says, "though we had the power, and opportunities were open to us of
   using all your goods and substance, and I knew that I had the
   permission [975] of our Lord to use them: yet I did not use this power,
   lest what was rightly and lawfully done on my part might set an example
   of dangerous idleness to others. And therefore when preaching the
   gospel, I preferred to be supported by my own hands and work, that I
   might open up the way of perfection to you who wish to walk in the path
   of virtue, and might set an example of good life by my work."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [975] Permissum (Petschenig). Promissum (Gazaeus).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   That he preached and taught men to work not only by his example, but
   also by his words.

   But lest haply it might be thought that, while he worked in silence and
   tried to teach them by example, he had not instructed them by precepts
   and warnings, he proceeds to say: "For when we were with you, this we
   declared to you, that if a man will not work neither should he eat."
   Still greater does he make their idleness appear, for, though they knew
   that he, like a good master, worked with his hands for the sake of his
   teaching and in order to instruct them, yet they were ashamed to
   imitate him; and he emphasizes our diligence and care by saying that he
   did not only give them this for an example when present, but that he
   also proclaimed it continually in words; saying that if any one would
   not work, neither should he eat.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   Of his saying: "If any will not work, neither shall he eat."

   And now he no longer addresses to them the advice of a teacher or
   physician, but proceeds with the severity of a judicial sentence, and,
   resuming his apostolic authority, pronounces sentence on his despisers
   as if from the judgment seat: with that power, I mean, which, when
   writing with threats to the Corinthians, he declared was given him of
   the Lord, when he charged those taken in sin, that they should make
   haste and amend their lives before his coming: thus charging them, "I
   beseech you that I may not be bold when I am present, against some,
   with that power which is given to me over you." And again: "For if I
   also should boast somewhat of the power which the Lord has given me
   unto edification, and not for your destruction, I shall not be
   ashamed." [976] With that power, I say, he declares, "If a man will not
   work, neither let him eat." Not punishing them with a carnal sword, but
   with the power of the Holy Ghost forbidding them the goods of this
   life, that if by chance, thinking but little of the punishment of
   future death, they still should remain obstinate through love of ease,
   they may at last, forced by the requirements of nature and the fear of
   immediate death, be compelled to obey his salutary charge.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [976] 2 Cor. x. 2, 8.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   Of his saying: "We have heard that some among you walk disorderly."

   Then after all this rigour of gospel severity, he now lays bare the
   reason why he put forward all these matters. "For we have heard that
   some among you walk disorderly, working not at all, but curiously
   meddling." He is nowhere satisfied to speak of those who will not give
   themselves up to work, as if they were victims of but a single malady.
   For in his first Epistle [977] he speaks of them as "disorderly," and
   not walking according to the traditions which they had received from
   him: and he also asserts that they were restless, and ate their bread
   for nought. Again he says here, "We have heard that there are some
   among you who walk disorderly." And at once he subjoins a second
   weakness, which is the root of this restlessness, and says, "working
   not at all;" a third malady as well he adds, which springs from this
   last like some shoot: "but curiously meddling."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [977] A mistake on Cassian's part: the reference being to 2 Thess. iii.
   6.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   How manual labour [978] prevents many faults.

   And so he loses no time in at once applying a suitable remedy to the
   incentive to so many faults, and laying aside that apostolic power of
   his which he had made use of a little before, he adopts once more the
   tender character of a good father, or of a kind physician, and, as if
   they were his children or his patients, applies by his healing counsel
   remedies to cure them, saying: "Now we charge them that are such, and
   beseech them by the Lord Jesus, that working with silence they would
   eat their own bread." The cause of all these ulcers, which spring from
   the root of idleness, he heals like some well-skilled physician by a
   single salutary charge to work; as he knows that all the other bad
   symptoms, which spring as it were from the same clump, will at once
   disappear when the cause of the chief malady has been removed.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [978] The text of Gazaeus has oratio, but the reading which Petschenig
   gives, operatio manuum, is clearly so.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   How kindness should be shown even to the idle and careless.

   Nevertheless, like a far-sighted and careful physician, he is not only
   anxious to heal the wounds of the sick, but gives suitable directions
   as well to the whole, that their health may be preserved continually,
   and says: "But be not ye weary in well doing:" ye who following us,
   i.e., our ways, copy the example given to you by imitating us in work,
   and do not follow their sloth and laziness: "Do not be weary in well
   doing;" i.e., do you likewise show kindness towards them if by chance
   they have failed to observe what we said. As then he was severe with
   those who were weak, for fear lest being enervated by laziness they
   might yield to restlessness and inquisitiveness, so he admonishes those
   who are in good health neither to restrain that kindness which the
   Lord's command bids us show to the good and evil, [979] even if some
   bad men will not turn to sound doctrine; nor to desist from doing good
   and encouraging them both by words of consolation and by rebuke as well
   as by ordinary kindness and civility.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [979] S. Matt. v. 43-45.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   How we ought to admonish those who go wrong, not out of hatred, but out
   of love.

   But again in case some might be encouraged by this gentleness, and
   scorn to obey his commands, he proceeds with the severity of an
   apostle: "But if any man obey not our word by this Epistle, note that
   man and do not keep company with him that he may be ashamed." And in
   warning them of what they ought to observe out of regard for him and
   for the good of all, and of the care with which they should keep the
   apostolic commands, at once he joins to the warning the kindness of a
   most indulgent father; and teaches them as well, as if they were his
   children, what a brotherly disposition they should cultivate towards
   those mentioned above, out of love. "Yet do not esteem him as an enemy,
   but admonish him as a brother." With the severity of a judge he
   combines the affection of a father, and tempers with kindness and
   gentleness the sentence delivered with apostolic sternness. For he
   commands them to note that man who scorns to obey his commands, and not
   to keep company with him; and yet he does not bid them do this from a
   wrong feeling of dislike, but from brotherly affection and out of
   consideration for their amendment. "Do not keep company," he says,
   "with him that he may be ashamed;" so that, even if he is not made
   better by my mild charges, he may at last be brought to shame by being
   publicly separated from all of you, and so may some day begin to be
   restored to the way of salvation.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   Different passages in which the Apostle declares that we ought to work,
   or in which it is shown that he himself worked.

   In the Epistle to the Ephesians also he thus gives a charge on this
   subject of work, saying: "He that stole, let him now steal no more, but
   rather let him labour, working with his hands the thing that is good,
   that he may have something to give to him that suffereth need." [980]
   And in the Acts of the Apostles too we find that he not only taught
   this, but actually practised it himself. For when he had come to
   Corinth, he did not permit himself to lodge anywhere except with Aquila
   and Priscilla, because they were of the same trade which he himself was
   accustomed to practise. For we thus read: "After this, Paul departing
   from Athens came to Corinth; and finding a certain Jew named Aquila,
   born in Pontus, and Priscilla his wife, he came to them because they
   were of the same trade; and abode with them, and worked: for they were
   tent-makers by trade." [981]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [980] Eph. iv. 28.

   [981] Acts xviii. 1-3.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   That the Apostle wrought what he thought would be sufficient for him
   and for others who were with him.

   Then going to Miletus, and from thence sending to Ephesus, and
   summoning to him the elders of the church of Ephesus, he charged them
   how they ought to rule the church of God in his absence, and said: "I
   have not coveted any man's silver and gold; you yourselves know how for
   such things as were needful for me and them that are with me these
   hands have ministered. I have showed you all things, how that so
   labouring you ought to support the weak, and to remember the words of
   the Lord Jesus, how he said: It is more blessed to give than to
   receive." [982] He left us a weighty example in his manner of life, as
   he testifies that he not only wrought what would supply his own bodily
   wants alone, but also what would be sufficient for the needs of those
   who were with him: those, I mean, who, being taken up with necessary
   duties, had no chance of procuring food for themselves with their own
   hands. And as he tells the Thessalonians that he had worked to give
   them an example that they might imitate him, so here too he implies
   something of the same sort when he says: "I have showed you all things,
   how that so labouring you ought to support the weak," viz., whether in
   mind or body; i.e., that we should be diligent in supplying their
   needs, not from the store of our abundance, or money laid by, or from
   another's generosity and substance, but rather by securing the
   necessary sum by our own labour and toil.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [982] Acts xx. 33-35.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   How we should understand these words: "It is more blessed to give than
   to receive."

   And he says that this is a command of the Lord: "For He Himself,"
   namely the Lord Jesus, said he, "said it is more blessed to give than
   to receive." That is, the bounty of the giver is more blessed than the
   need of the receiver, where the gift is not supplied from money that
   has been kept back through unbelief or faithlessness, nor from the
   stored-up treasures of avarice, but is produced from the fruits of our
   own labour and honest toil. And so "it is more blessed to give than to
   receive," because while the giver shares the poverty of the receiver,
   yet still he is diligent in providing with pious care by his own toil,
   not merely enough for his own needs, but also what he can give to one
   in want; and so he is adorned with a double grace, since by giving away
   all his goods he secures the perfect abnegation of Christ, and yet by
   his labour and thought displays the generosity of the rich; thus
   honouring God by his honest labours, and plucking for him the fruits of
   his righteousness, while another, enervated by sloth and indolent
   laziness, proves himself by the saying of the Apostle unworthy of food,
   as in defiance of his command he takes it in idleness, not without the
   guilt of sin and of obstinacy.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   Of a lazy brother who tried to persuade others to leave the monastery.

   We know a brother, whose name we would give if it would do any good,
   who, although he was remaining in the monastery and compelled to
   deliver to the steward his fixed task daily, yet for fear lest he might
   be led on to some larger portion of work, or put to shame by the
   example of one labouring more zealously, when he had seen some brother
   admitted into the monastery, who in the ardour of his faith wanted to
   make up the sale of a larger piece of work, if he found that he could
   not by secret persuasion check him from carrying out his purpose, he
   would by bad advice and whisperings persuade him to depart thence. And
   in order to get rid of him more easily he would pretend that he also
   had already been for many reasons offended, and wanted to leave, if
   only he could find a companion and support for the journey. And when by
   secretly running down the monastery he had wheedled him into
   consenting, and arranged with him the time at which to leave the
   monastery, and the place to which he should go before, and where he
   should wait for him, he himself, pretending that he would follow,
   stopped where he was. And when the other out of shame for his flight
   did not dare to return again to the monastery from which he had run
   away, the miserable author of his flight stopped behind in the
   monastery. It will be enough to have given this single instance of this
   sort of men in order to put beginners on their guard, and to show
   clearly what evils idleness, as Scripture says, [983] can produce in
   the mind of a monk, and how "evil communications corrupt good manners."
   [984]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [983] The reference is probably to Ecclus xxiii. 29, "Idleness hath
   taught much evil."

   [984] 1 Cor. xv. 33.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   Different passages from the writings of Solomon against accidie.

   And Solomon, the wisest of men, clearly points to this fault of
   idleness in many passages, as he says: "He that followeth idleness
   shall be filled with poverty," [985] either visible or invisible, in
   which an idle person and one entangled with different faults is sure to
   be involved, and he will always be a stranger to the contemplation of
   God, and to spiritual riches, of which the blessed Apostle says: "For
   in all things ye were enriched in him, in all utterance and in all
   knowledge." [986] But concerning this poverty of the idler elsewhere he
   also writes thus: "Every sluggard shall be clothed in torn garments and
   rags." [987] For certainly he will not merit to be adorned with that
   garment of incorruption (of which the Apostle says, "Put ye on the Lord
   Jesus Christ," [988] and again: "Being clothed in the breastplate of
   righteousness and charity," [989] concerning which the Lord Himself
   also speaks to Jerusalem by the prophet: "Arise, arise, O Jerusalem,
   put on the garments of thy glory)," [990] whoever, overpowered by lazy
   slumber or by accidie, prefers to be clothed, not by his labour and
   industry, but in the rags of idleness, which he tears off from the
   solid piece and body of the Scriptures, and fits on to his sloth no
   garment of glory and honour, but an ignominious cloak and excuse. For
   those, who are affected by this laziness, and do not like to support
   themselves by the labour of their own hands, as the Apostle continually
   did and charged us to do, are wont to make use of certain Scripture
   proofs by which they try to cloak their idleness, saying that it is
   written, "Labour not for the meat that perisheth, but for that which
   remains to life eternal;" [991] and "My meat is to do the will of my
   Father." [992] But these proofs are (as it were) rags, from the solid
   piece of the gospel, which are adopted for this purpose, viz., to cover
   the disgrace of our idleness and shame rather than to keep us warm, and
   adorn us with that costly and splendid garment of virtue which that
   wise woman in the Proverbs, who was clothed with strength and beauty,
   is said to have made either for herself or for her husband; of which
   presently it is said: "Strength and beauty are her clothing, and she
   rejoices in the latter days." [993] Of this evil of idleness Solomon
   thus makes mention again: "The ways of the idlers are strewn with
   thorns;" [994] i.e., with these and similar faults, which the Apostle
   above declared to spring from idleness. And again: "Every sluggard is
   always in want." [995] And of these the Apostle makes mention when he
   says, "And that you want nothing of any man's." [996] And finally: "For
   idleness has been the teacher of many evils:" [997] which the Apostle
   has clearly enumerated in the passage which he expounded above:
   "Working not at all, but curiously meddling." To this fault also he
   joins another: "And that ye study to be quiet;" and then, "that ye
   should do your own business and walk honestly towards them that are
   without, and that you want nothing of any man's." Those also whom he
   notes as disorderly and rebellious, from these he charges those who are
   earnest to separate themselves: "That ye withdraw yourselves," says he,
   "from every brother that walketh disorderly and not according to the
   tradition which they received from us." [998]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [985] Prov. xxviii. 19.

   [986] 1 Cor. i. 5.

   [987] Prov. xxiii. 21. (LXX.).

   [988] Rom. xiii. 14.

   [989] 1 Thess. v. 8.

   [990] Is. lii. 1.

   [991] S. John vi. 27.

   [992] S. John iv. 34.

   [993] Prov. xxxi. 25. (LXX.).

   [994] Prov. xv. 19 (LXX.).

   [995] Prov. xiii. 4 (LXX.).

   [996] 1 Thess. iv. 11.

   [997] Ecclus. xxxiii. 29.

   [998] 2 Thess. iii. 11, 6; 1 Thess. iv. 11.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   How the brethren in Egypt work with their hands, not only to supply
   their own needs, but also to minister to those who are in prison.

   And so taught by these examples the Fathers in Egypt never allow monks,
   and especially the younger ones, to be idle, [999] estimating the
   purpose of their hearts and their growth in patience and humility by
   their diligence in work; and they not only do not allow them to receive
   anything from another to supply their own wants, but further, they not
   merely refresh pilgrims and brethren who come to visit them by means of
   their labours, but actually collect an enormous store of provisions and
   food, and distribute it in the parts of Libya which suffer from famine
   and barrenness, and also in the cities, to those who are pining away in
   the squalor of prison; as they believe that by such an offering of the
   fruit of their hands they offer a reasonable and true sacrifice to the
   Lord.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [999] The monks of Egypt were famous for their labours, and Cassian's
   language might be illustrated from many passages in the Fathers; e.g.,
   Epiphanius, in his third book against heresies, compares the monks, and
   especially those in Egypt, to bees, because of their diligence. So S.
   Jerome, writing to Rusticus (Ep. cxxv.), says that no one is received
   in a monastery in Egypt unless he will work, and that this rule is made
   for the good of the soul rather than for the sake of providing food.
   Compare also Sozomen H. E. VI. xxviii., where it is said of Serapion
   and his followers in the neighbourhood of Arsinoee that "they lived on
   the produce of their labour and provided for the poor. During
   harvest-time they busied themselves in reaping: they set aside
   sufficient corn for their own use, and furnished grain gratuitously for
   the other monks." S. Basil also, in his Monastic Constitutions cc. iv.
   and v., speaks strongly of the value of labour and the Rule of S.
   Benedict (c. xlviii.) enjoins that "as idleness is the enemy of the
   soul, the brethren are to be employed alternately in manual labour and
   pious reading."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIII.

   That idleness is the reason why there are not monasteries for monks in
   the West.

   Hence it is that in these countries we see no monasteries found with
   such numbers of brethren: for they are not supported by the resources
   of their own labour in such a way that they can remain in them
   continually; and if in some way or other, through the liberality of
   another, there should be a sufficient provision to supply them, yet
   love of ease and restlessness of heart does not suffer them to continue
   long in the place. Whence this saying has been handed down from the old
   fathers in Egypt: that a monk who works is attacked by but one devil;
   but an idler is tormented by countless spirits.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIV.

   Abbot Paul [1000] who every year burnt with fire all the works of his
   hands.

   Lastly, Abbot Paul, one of the greatest of the Fathers, while he was
   living in a vast desert which is called the Porphyrian desert, [1001]
   and being relieved from anxiety by the date palms and a small garden,
   had plenty to support himself, and an ample supply of food, and could
   not find any other work to do, which would support him, because his
   dwelling was separated from towns and inhabited districts by seven
   days' journey, [1002] or even more, through the desert, and more would
   be asked for the carriage of the goods than the price of the work would
   be worth; he collected the leaves of the palms, and regularly exacted
   of himself his daily task, as if he was to be supported by it. And when
   his cave had been filled with a whole year's work, each year he would
   burn with fire that at which he had so diligently laboured: thus
   proving that without manual labour a monk cannot stop in a place nor
   rise to the heights of perfection: so that, though the need for food
   did not require this to be done, yet he performed it simply for the
   sake of purifying his heart, and strengthening his thoughts, and
   persisting in his cell, and gaining a victory over accidie and driving
   it away.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1000] This Paul is perhaps the same as the one mentioned in connection
   with Abbot Moses in Conference VII. xxvi. As he was a contemporary of
   Cassian he must be carefully distinguished from his more illustrious
   namesakes, the first hermit and the disciple of S. Antony.

   [1001] Also called the desert of Calamus, Conference XXIV. iv., but its
   position has not been ascertained.

   [1002] Mansio used here and again in Conference XXIV. iv. for the stage
   of a day's journey.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXV.

   The words of Abbot Moses which he said to me about the cure of accidie.

   When I was beginning my stay in the desert, and had said to Abbot
   Moses, the chief of all the saints, that I had been terribly troubled
   yesterday by an attack of accidie, and that I could only be freed from
   it by running at once to Abbot Paul, he said, "You have not freed
   yourself from it, but rather have given yourself up to it as its slave
   and subject. For the enemy will henceforth attack you more strongly as
   a deserter and runaway, since it has seen that you fled at once when
   overcome in the conflict: unless on a second occasion when you join
   battle with it you make up your mind not to dispel its attacks and
   heats for the moment by deserting your cell, or by the inactivity of
   sleep, but rather learn to triumph over it by endurance and conflict."
   Whence it is proved by experience that a fit of accidie should not be
   evaded by running away from it, but overcome by resisting it. [1003]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1003] This Abbot Moses is probably the one to whom the first two
   Conferences are attributed (cf. also Conference VII. xxvi.); and
   possibly the second of this name (Moses the Libyan) mentioned by
   Sozomen, H. E. VI. xxix. Cf. also Palladius, the Lausiac History. c.
   xxii.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [963] See the note on Bk. V. c. i.
     __________________________________________________________________

  Book XI.

    Of the Spirit of Vainglory.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   How our seventh combat is against the spirit of vainglory, and what its
   nature.

   Our seventh combat is against the spirit of kenodoxia, which we may
   term vain or idle glory: a spirit that takes many shapes, and is
   changeable and subtle, so that it can with difficulty, I will not say
   be guarded against, but be seen through and discovered even by the
   keenest eyes.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   How vainglory attacks a monk not only on his carnal, but also on his
   spiritual side.

   For not only does this, like the rest of his faults, attack a monk on
   his carnal side, but on his spiritual side as well, insinuating itself
   by craft and guile into his mind: so that those who cannot be deceived
   by carnal vices are more grievously wounded through their spiritual
   proficiency; and it is so much the worse to fight against, as it is
   harder to guard against. For the attack of all other vices is more open
   and straightforward, and in the case of each of them, when he who stirs
   them up is met by a determined refusal, he will go away the weaker for
   it, and the adversary who has been beaten will on the next occasion
   attack his victim with less vigour. But this malady when it has
   attacked the mind by means of carnal pride, and has been repulsed by
   the shield of reply, again, like some wickedness that takes many
   shapes, changes its former guise and character, and under the
   appearance of the virtues tries to strike down and destroy its
   conqueror.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   How many forms and shapes vainglory takes.

   For our other faults and passions may be said to be simpler and of but
   one form: but this takes many forms and shapes, and changes about and
   assails the man who stands up against it from every quarter, and
   assaults its conqueror on all sides. For it tries to injure the soldier
   of Christ in his dress, in his manner, his walk, his voice, his work,
   his vigils, his fasts, his prayers, when he withdraws, when he reads,
   in his knowledge, his silence, his obedience, his humility, his
   patience; and like some most dangerous rock hidden by surging waves, it
   causes an unforeseen and miserable shipwreck to those who are sailing
   with a fair breeze, while they are not on the lookout for it or
   guarding against it.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   How vainglory attacks a monk on the right had and on the left.

   And so one who wishes to go along the King's highway by means of the
   "arms of righteousness which are on the right hand and on the left,"
   ought by the teaching of the Apostle to pass through "honour and
   dishonour, evil report and good report," [1004] and with such care to
   direct his virtuous course amid the swelling waves of temptation, with
   discretion at the helm, and the Spirit of the Lord breathing on us,
   since we know that if we deviate ever so little to the right hand or to
   the left, we shall presently be dashed against most dangerous crags.
   And so we are warned by Solomon, the wisest of men: "Turn not aside to
   the right hand or to the left;" [1005] i.e., do not flatter yourself on
   your virtues and be puffed up by your spiritual achievements on the
   right hand; nor, swerving to the path of vices on the left hand, seek
   from them for yourself (to use the words of the Apostle) "glory in your
   shame." [1006] For where the devil cannot create vainglory in a man by
   means of his well-fitting and neat dress, he tries to introduce it by
   means of a dirty, cheap, and uncared-for style. If he cannot drag a man
   down by honour, he overthrows him by humility. If he cannot make him
   puffed up by the grace of knowledge and eloquence, he pulls him down by
   the weight of silence. If a man fasts openly, he is attacked by the
   pride of vanity. If he conceals it for the sake of despising the glory
   of it, he is assailed by the same sin of pride. In order that he may
   not be defiled by the stains of vainglory he avoids making long prayers
   in the sight of the brethren; and yet because he offers them secretly
   and has no one who is conscious of it, he does not escape the pride of
   vanity.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1004] 2 Cor. vi. 7, 8.

   [1005] Prov. iv. 27 (LXX.).

   [1006] Phil. iii. 19.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   A comparison which shows the nature of vainglory.

   Our elders admirably describe the nature of this malady as like that of
   an onion, and of those bulbs which when stripped of one covering you
   find to be sheathed in another; and as often as you strip them, you
   find them still protected.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   That vainglory is not altogether got rid of by the advantages of
   solitude.

   In solitude also it does not cease from pursuing him who has for the
   sake of glory fled from intercourse with all men. And the more
   thoroughly a man has shunned the whole world, so much the more keenly
   does it pursue him. It tries to lift up with pride one man because of
   his great endurance of work and labour, another because of his extreme
   readiness to obey, another because he outstrips other men in humility.
   One man is tempted through the extent of his knowledge, another through
   the extent of his reading, another through the length of his vigils.
   Nor does this malady endeavour to wound a man except through his
   virtues; introducing hindrances which lead to death by means of those
   very things through which the supplies of life are sought. For when men
   are anxious to walk in the path of holiness and perfection, the enemies
   do not lay their snares to deceive them anywhere except in the way
   along which they walk, in accordance with that saying of the blessed
   David: "In the way wherein I walked have they laid a snare for me;"
   [1007] that in this very way of virtue along which we are walking, when
   pressing on to "the prize of our high calling," [1008] we may be elated
   by our successes, and so sink down, and fall with the feet of our soul
   entangled and caught in the snares of vainglory. And so it results that
   those of us who could not be vanquished in the conflict with the foe
   are overcome by the very greatness of our triumph, or else (which is
   another kind of deception) that, overstraining the limits of that
   self-restraint which is possible to us, we fail of perseverance in our
   course on account of bodily weakness.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1007] Ps. cxli. (cxlii.) 4.

   [1008] Phil. iii. 14.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   How vainglory, when it has been overcome, rises again keener than ever
   for the fight.

   All vices when overcome grow feeble, and when beaten are day by day
   rendered weaker, and both in regard to place and time grow less and
   subside, or at any rate, as they are unlike the opposite virtues, are
   more easily shunned and avoided: but this one when it is beaten rises
   again keener than ever for the struggle; and when we think that it is
   destroyed, it revives again, the stronger for its death. The other
   kinds of vices usually only attack those whom they have overcome in the
   conflict; but this one pursues its victors only the more keenly; and
   the more thoroughly it has been resisted, so much the more vigorously
   does it attack the man who is elated by his victory over it. And herein
   lies the crafty cunning of our adversary, namely, in the fact that,
   where he cannot overcome the soldier of Christ by the weapons of the
   foe, he lays him low by his own spear.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   How vainglory is not allayed either in the desert or through advancing
   years.

   Other vices, as we said, are sometimes allayed by the advantages of
   position, and when the matter of the sin and the occasion and
   opportunity for it are removed, grow slack, and are diminished: but
   this one penetrates the deserts with the man who is flying from it, nor
   can it be shut out from any place, nor when outward material for it is
   removed does it fail. For it is simply encouraged by the achievements
   of the virtues of the man whom it attacks. For all other vices, as we
   said above, are sometimes diminished by the lapse of time, and
   disappear: to this one length of life, unless it is supported by
   skilful diligence and prudent discretion, is no hindrance, but actually
   supplies it with new fuel for vanity.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   That vainglory is the more dangerous through being mixed up with
   virtues.

   Lastly, other passions which are entirely different from the virtues
   which are their opposites, and which attack us openly and as it were in
   broad daylight, are more easily overcome and guarded against: but this
   being interwoven with our virtues and entangled in the battle, fighting
   as it were under cover of the darkness of night, deceives the more
   dangerously those who are off their guard and not on the lookout.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   An instance showing how King Hezekiah was overthrown by the dart of
   vainglory.

   For so we read that Hezekiah, King of Judah, a man of most perfect
   righteousness in all things, and one approved by the witness of Holy
   Scripture, after unnumbered commendations for his virtues, was
   overthrown by a single dart of vainglory. And he who by a single prayer
   of his was able to procure the death of a hundred and eighty-five
   thousand of the army of the Assyrians, whom the angel destroyed in one
   night, is overcome by boasting and vanity. Of whom--to pass over the
   long list of his virtues, which it would take a long time to unfold--I
   will say but this one thing. He was a man who, after the close of his
   life had been decreed and the day of his death determined by the Lord's
   sentence, prevailed by a single prayer to extend the limits set to his
   life by fifteen years, the sun returning by ten steps, on which it had
   already shone in its course towards its setting, and by its return
   dispersing those lines which the shadow that followed its course had
   already marked, and by this giving two days in one to the whole world,
   by a stupendous miracle contrary to the fixed laws of nature. [1009]
   Yet after signs so great and so incredible, after such immense proofs
   of his goodness, hear the Scripture tell how he was destroyed by his
   very successes. "In those days," we are told, "Hezekiah was sick unto
   death: and he prayed to the Lord, and He heard him and gave him a
   sign," that, namely of which we read in the fourth book of the
   kingdoms, which was given by Isaiah the prophet through the going back
   of the sun. "But," it says, "he did not render again according to the
   benefits which he had received, for his heart was lifted up; and wrath
   was kindled against him and against Judah and Jerusalem: and he humbled
   himself afterwards because his heart had been lifted up, both he and
   the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and therefore the wrath of the Lord came
   not upon them in the days of Hezekiah." [1010] How dangerous, how
   terrible is the malady of vanity! So much goodness, so many virtues,
   faith and devotion, great enough to prevail to change nature itself and
   the laws of the whole world, perish by a single act of pride! So that
   all his good deeds would have been forgotten as if they had never been,
   and he would at once have been subject to the wrath of the Lord unless
   he had appeased Him by recovering his humility: so that he who, at the
   suggestion of pride, had fallen from so great a height of excellence,
   could only mount again to the height he had lost by the same steps of
   humility. Do you want to see another instance of a similar downfall?
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1009] Cf. 2 Kings xx.

   [1010] 2 Chron. xxxii. 24-26.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   The instance of King Uzziah who was overcome by the taint of the same
   malady.

   Of Uzziah, the ancestor of this king of whom we have been speaking,
   himself also praised in all things by the witness of the Scripture,
   after great commendation for his virtue, after countless triumphs which
   he achieved by the merit of his devotion and faith, learn how he was
   cast down by the pride of vainglory. "And," we are told, "the name of
   Uzziah went forth, for the Lord helped him and had strengthened him.
   But when he was made strong, his heart was lifted up to his
   destruction, and he neglected the Lord his God." [1011] You behold
   another instance of a most terrible downfall, and see how two men so
   upright and excellent were undone by their very triumphs and victories.
   Whence you see how dangerous the successes of prosperity generally are,
   so that those who could not be injured by adversity are ruined, unless
   they are careful, by prosperity; and those who in the conflict of
   battle have escaped the danger of death fall before their own trophies
   and triumphs.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1011] 2 Chron. xxvi. 15, 16.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   Several testimonies against vainglory.

   And so the Apostle warns us: "Be not desirous of vainglory." [1012] And
   the Lord, rebuking the Pharisees, says, "How can ye believe, who
   receive glory from one another, and seek not the glory which comes from
   God alone?" [1013] Of these too the blessed David speaks with a threat:
   "For God hath scattered the bones of them that please men." [1014]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1012] Gal. v. 26.

   [1013] S. John v. 44.

   [1014] Ps. lii. (liii.) 6.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   Of the ways in which vainglory attacks a monk.

   In the case also of beginners and of those who have as yet made but
   little progress either in powers of mind or in knowledge it usually
   puffs up their minds, either because of the quality of their voice
   because they can sing well, or because their bodies are emaciated,
   [1015] or because they are of a good figure, or because they have rich
   and noble kinsfolk, or because they have despised a military life and
   honours. Sometimes too it persuades a man that if he had remained in
   the world he would easily have obtained honours and riches, which
   perhaps could not possibly have been secured, and inflates him with a
   vain hope of uncertain things; and in the case of those things which he
   never possessed, puffs him up with pride and vanity, as if he were one
   who had despised them.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1015] viz., by fasting.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   How it suggests that a man may seek to take holy orders.

   But sometimes it creates a wish to take holy orders, and a desire for
   the priesthood or diaconate. And it represents that if a man has even
   against his will received this office, he will fulfil it with such
   sanctity and strictness that he will be able to set an example of
   saintliness even to other priests; and that he will win over many
   people, not only by his manner of life, but also by his teaching and
   preaching. It makes a man, even when alone and sitting in his cell, to
   go round in mind and imagination to the dwellings and monasteries of
   others, and to make many conversions under the inducements of imaginary
   exultation.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   How vainglory intoxicates the mind.

   And so the miserable soul is affected by such vanity--as if it were
   deluded by a profound slumber--that it is often led away by the
   pleasure of such thoughts, and filled with such imaginations, so that
   it cannot even look at things present, or the brethren, while it enjoys
   dwelling upon these things, of which with its wandering thoughts it has
   waking dreams, as if they were true.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   Of him whom the superior came upon and found in his cell, deluded by
   idle vainglory.

   I remember an elder, when I was staying in the desert of Scete, who
   went to the cell of a certain brother to pay him a visit, and when he
   had reached the door heard him muttering inside, and stood still for a
   little while, wanting to know what it was that he was reading from the
   Bible or repeating by heart (as is customary) while he was at work. And
   when this most excellent eavesdropper diligently applied his ear and
   listened with some curiosity, he found that the man was induced by an
   attack of this spirit to fancy that he was delivering a stirring sermon
   to the people. And when the elder, as he stood still, heard him finish
   his discourse and return again to his office, and give out the
   dismissal of the catechumens, as the deacon does, [1016] then at last
   he knocked at the door, and the man came out, and met the elder with
   the customary reverence, and brought him in and (for his knowledge of
   what had been his thoughts made him uneasy) asked him when he had
   arrived, for fear lest he might have taken some harm from standing too
   long at the door: and the old man joking pleasantly replied, "I only
   got here while you were giving out the dismissal of the catechumens."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1016] Celebrare velut diaconum catechumenis missam. Missa is here used
   for the dismissal of the catechumens, which it was the deacon's office
   to proclaim. The whole service was divided into two parts, (1) the mass
   of the catechumens, containing the Scripture lessons, sermon, and
   prayers for the catechumens; and (2) the mass of the faithful, or the
   Eucharist proper. At the end of the first part the deacon warned the
   catechumens to depart, in words varying slightly in different churches,
   but substantially the same in all, both east and west: e.g. in the
   Liturgy of S. Chrysostom the form is "Let all the catechumens depart:
   let not any of the catechumens--Let all the faithful--"; in that of S.
   Mark it is still briefer: "Look lest any of the catechumens." The Roman
   missal does not now contain this feature, but it was certainly
   originally found in it for it is alluded to by Gregory the Great (Dial.
   Book II. c. xxiii.), who gives the form as follows: "Si quis non
   communicat det locum." It was also customary in Spain and Gaul, as well
   as in Africa, being alluded to by Augustine in Sermon xlix.: "Ecce post
   sermonen fit missa catechumenis: manebunt fideles, venietur ad locum
   orationis."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   How faults cannot be cured unless their roots and causes have been
   discovered.

   I thought it well to insert these things in this little work of mine,
   that we might learn, not only by reason, but also by examples, about
   the force of temptations and the order of the sins which hurt an
   unfortunate soul, and so might be more careful in avoiding the snares
   and manifold deceits of the enemy. For these things are
   indiscriminately brought forward by the Egyptian fathers, that by
   telling them, as those who are still enduring them, they may disclose
   and lay bare the combats with all the vices, which they actually do
   suffer, and those which the younger ones are sure to suffer; so that,
   when they explain the illusions arising from all the passions, those
   who are but beginners and fervent in spirit may know the secret of
   their struggles, and seeing them as in a glass, may learn both the
   causes of the sins by which they are troubled, and the remedies for
   them, and instructed beforehand concerning the approach of future
   struggles, may be taught how they ought to guard against them, or to
   meet them and to fight with them. As clever physicians are accustomed
   not only to heal already existing diseases, but also by a wise skill to
   seek to obviate future ones, and to prevent them by their prescriptions
   and healing draughts, so these true physicians of the soul, by means of
   spiritual conferences, like some celestial antidote, destroy beforehand
   those maladies of the soul which would arise, and do not allow them to
   gain a footing in the minds of the juniors, as they unfold to them the
   causes of the passions which threaten them, and the remedies which will
   heal them.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   How a monk ought to avoid women and bishops.

   Wherefore this is an old maxim of the Fathers that is still
   current,--though I cannot produce it without shame on my own part,
   since I could not avoid my own sister, nor escape the hands of the
   bishop,--viz., that a monk ought by all means to fly from women and
   bishops. For neither of them will allow him who has once been joined in
   close intercourse any longer to care for the quiet of his cell, or to
   continue with pure eyes in divine contemplation through his insight
   into holy things.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   Remedies by which we can overcome vainglory.

   And so the athlete of Christ who desires to strive lawfully in this
   true and spiritual combat, should strive by all means to overcome this
   changeable monster of many shapes, which, as it attacks us on every
   side like some manifold wickedness, we can escape by such a remedy as
   this; viz., thinking on that saying of David: "The Lord hath scattered
   the bones of those who please men." [1017] To begin with we should not
   allow ourselves to do anything at the suggestion of vanity, and for the
   sake of obtaining vainglory. Next, when we have begun a thing well, we
   should endeavour to maintain it with just the same care, for fear lest
   afterwards the malady of vainglory should creep in and make void all
   the fruits of our labours. And anything which is of very little use or
   value in the common life of the brethren, we should avoid as leading to
   boasting; and whatever would render us remarkable amongst the others,
   and for which credit would be gained among men, as if we were the only
   people who could do it, this should be shunned by us. For by these
   signs the deadly taint of vainglory will be shown to cling to us: which
   we shall most easily escape if we consider that we shall not merely
   lose the fruits of those labours of ours which we have performed at the
   suggestion of vainglory, but that we shall also be guilty of a great
   sin, and as impious persons undergo eternal punishments, inasmuch as we
   have wronged God by doing for the favour of men what we ought to have
   done for His sake, and are convicted by Him who knows all secrets of
   having preferred men to God, and the praise of the world to the praise
   of the Lord.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1017] Ps. lii. (liii.) 6.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Book XII.

    Of the Spirit of Pride.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   How our eighth combat is against the spirit of pride, and of its
   character.

   Our eighth and last combat is against the spirit of pride, which evil,
   although it is the latest in our conflict with our faults and stands
   last on the list, yet in beginning and in the order of time is the
   first: an evil beast that is most savage and more dreadful than all the
   former ones, chiefly trying those who are perfect, and devouring with
   its dreadful bite those who have almost attained the consummation of
   virtue.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   How there are two kinds of pride.

   And of this pride there are two kinds: the one, that by which we said
   that the best of men and spiritually minded ones were troubled; the
   other, that which assaults even beginners and carnal persons. And
   though each kind of pride is excited with regard to both God and man by
   a dangerous elation, yet that first kind more particularly has to do
   with God; the second refers especially to men. Of the origin of this
   last and the remedies for it we will by God's help treat as far as
   possible in the latter part of this book. We now propose to say a few
   things about that former kind, by which, as I mentioned before, those
   who are perfect are especially tried.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   How pride is equally destructive of all virtues.

   There is then no other fault which is so destructive of all virtues,
   and robs and despoils a man of all righteousness and holiness, as this
   evil of pride, which like some pestilential disease attacks the whole
   man, and, not content to damage one part or one limb only, injures the
   entire body by its deadly influence, and endeavours to cast down by a
   most fatal fall, and destroy those who were already at the top of the
   tree of the virtues. For every other fault is satisfied within its own
   bounds and limits, and though it clouds other virtues as well, yet it
   is in the main directed against one only, and specially attacks and
   assaults that. And so (to make my meaning clearer) gluttony, i.e., the
   appetites of the belly and the pleasures of the palate, is destructive
   of strict temperance: lust stains purity, anger destroys patience: so
   that sometimes a man who is in bondage to some one sin is not
   altogether wanting in other virtues: but being simply deprived of that
   one virtue which in the struggle yields to the vice which is its rival
   and opposed to it, can to some extent preserve his other virtues: but
   this one when once it has taken possession of some unfortunate soul,
   like some most brutal tyrant, when the lofty citadel of the virtues has
   been taken, utterly destroys and lays waste the whole city; and
   levelling with the ground of vices the once high walls of saintliness,
   and confusing them together, it allows no shadow of freedom henceforth
   to survive in the soul subject to it. And in proportion as it was
   originally the richer, so now will the yoke of servitude be the
   severer, through which by its cruel ravages it will strip the soul it
   has subdued of all its powers of virtue.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   How by reason of pride Lucifer was turned from an archangel into a
   devil.

   And that we may understand the power of its awful tyranny we see that
   that angel who, for the greatness of his splendour and beauty was
   termed Lucifer, was cast out of heaven for no other sin but this, and,
   pierced with the dart of pride, was hurled down from his grand and
   exalted position as an angel into hell. If then pride of heart alone
   was enough to cast down from heaven to earth a power that was so great
   and adorned with the attributes of such might, the very greatness of
   his fall shows us with what care we who are surrounded by the weakness
   of the flesh ought to be on our guard. But we can learn how to avoid
   the most deadly poison of this evil if we trace out the origin and
   causes of his fall. For weakness can never be cured, nor the remedies
   for bad states of health be disclosed unless first their origin and
   causes are investigated by a wise scrutiny. For as he (viz., Lucifer)
   was endowed with divine splendour, and shone forth among the other
   higher powers by the bounty of his Maker, he believed that he had
   acquired the splendour of that wisdom and the beauty of those powers,
   with which he was graced by the gift of the Creator, by the might of
   his own nature, and not by the beneficence of His generosity. And on
   this account he was puffed up as if he stood in no need of divine
   assistance in order to continue in this state of purity, and esteemed
   himself to be like God, as if, like God, he had no need of any one, and
   trusting in the power of his own will, fancied that through it he could
   richly supply himself with everything which was necessary for the
   consummation of virtue or for the perpetuation of perfect bliss. This
   thought alone was the cause of his first fall. On account of which
   being forsaken by God, whom he fancied he no longer needed, he suddenly
   became unstable and tottering, and discovered the weakness of his own
   nature, and lost the blessedness which he had enjoyed by God's gift.
   And because he "loved the words of ruin," with which he had said, "I
   will ascend into heaven," and the "deceitful tongue," with which he had
   said of himself, "I will be like the Most High," [1018] and of Adam and
   Eve, "Ye shall be as gods," therefore "shall God destroy him forever
   and pluck him out and remove him from his dwelling place and his root
   out of the land of the living." Then "the just," when they see his
   ruin, "shall fear, and shall laugh at him and say" (what may also be
   most justly aimed at those who trust that they can obtain the highest
   good without the protection and assistance of God): "Behold the man
   that made not God his helper, but trusted in the abundance of his
   riches, and prevailed in his vanity." [1019]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1018] Is. xiv. 13, 14.

   [1019] Ps. li. (lii.) 6-9.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   That incentives to all sins spring from pride.

   This is the reason of the first fall, and the starting point of the
   original malady, which again insinuating itself into the first man,
   [1020] through him who had already been destroyed by it, produced the
   weaknesses and materials of all faults. For while he believed that by
   the freedom of his will and by his own efforts he could obtain the
   glory of Deity, he actually lost that glory which he already possessed
   through the free gift of the Creator.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1020] Protoplastum cf. Wisdom vii. 1; x. 1 where Adam is called
   protoplastos. From these passages the term came to be commonly used as
   the designation of our first parents. So Clem. Alex. Strom. iii. 17:
   and in its Latin form it is found in the early translation of Irenaeus.
   Haer. III. xxi. 20.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   That the sin of pride is last in the actual order of the combat, but
   first in time and origin.

   And so it is most clearly established by instances and testimonies from
   Scripture that the mischief of pride, although it comes later in the
   order of the combat, is yet earlier in origin, and is the beginning of
   all sins and faults: nor is it (like the other vices) simply fatal to
   the virtue opposite to it (in this case, humility), but it is also at
   the same time destructive of all virtues: nor does it only tempt
   ordinary folk and small people, but chiefly those who already stand on
   the heights of valour. [1021] For thus the prophet speaks of this
   spirit, "His meat is choice." [1022] And so the blessed David, although
   he guarded the recesses of his heart with the utmost care, so that he
   dared to say to Him from whom the secrets of his conscience were not
   hid, "Lord, my heart is not exalted, nor are my eyes lofty: neither
   have I walked in great matters, nor in wonderful things above me. If I
   was not humbly minded;" [1023] and again, "He that worketh pride shall
   not dwell in the midst of my house;" [1024] yet, as he knew how hard is
   that watchfulness even for those that are perfect, he did not so
   presume on his own efforts, but prayed to God and implored His help,
   that he might escape unwounded by the darts of this foe, saying, "Let
   not the foot of pride come to me," [1025] for he feared and dreaded
   falling into that which is said of the proud, viz., "God resisteth the
   proud;" [1026] and again: "Every one that exalteth his heart is unclean
   before the Lord." [1027]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1021] Cf. Milton's "last infirmity of noble minds." (Lycidas.)

   [1022] Hab. i. 16 (LXX.).

   [1023] Ps. cxxx. (cxxxi.) 1, 2.

   [1024] Ps. c. (ci.) 1, 2.

   [1025] Ps. xxxv. (xxxvi.) 1, 2.

   [1026] S. James iv. 6.

   [1027] Prov. xvi. 5 (LXX.).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   That the evil of pride is so great that it rightly has even God Himself
   as its adversary.

   How great is the evil of pride, that it rightly has no angel, nor other
   virtues opposed to it, but God Himself as its adversary! Since it
   should be noted that it is never said of those who are entangled in
   other sins that they have God resisting them; I mean it is not said
   that God is opposed "to the gluttonous, fornicators, passionate, or
   covetous," but only "to the proud." For those sins react only on those
   who commit them, or seem to be committed against those who share in
   them, i.e., against other men; but this one has more properly to do
   with God, and therefore it is especially right that it should have Him
   opposed to it.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   How God has destroyed the pride of the devil by the virtue of humility,
   and various passages in proof of this.

   And so God, the Creator and Healer of all, knowing that pride is the
   cause and fountain head of evils, has been careful to heal opposites
   with opposites, that those things which were ruined by pride might be
   restored by humility. For the one says, "I will ascend into heaven;"
   [1028] the other, "My soul was brought low even to the ground." [1029]
   The one says, "And I will be like the most High;" the other, "Though He
   was in the form of God, yet He emptied Himself and took the form of a
   servant, and humbled Himself and became obedient unto death." [1030]
   The one says, "I will exalt my throne above the stars of God;" the
   other, "Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly of heart." [1031] The one
   says, "I know not the Lord and will not let Israel go;" [1032] the
   other, "If I say that I know Him not, I shall be a liar like unto you:
   but I know Him, and keep His commandments." [1033] The one says, "My
   rivers are mine and I made them:" [1034] the other: "I can do nothing
   of myself, but my Father who abideth in me, He doeth the works." [1035]
   The one says, "All the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them are
   mine, and to whomsoever I will, I give them;" [1036] the other, "Though
   He were rich yet He became poor, that we through His poverty might be
   made rich." [1037] The one says, "As eggs are gathered together which
   are left, so have I gathered all the earth: and there was none that
   moved the wing or opened the mouth, or made the least noise;" [1038]
   the other, "I am become like a solitary pelican; I watched and became
   as a sparrow alone upon the roof." [1039] The one says, "I have dried
   up with the sole of my foot all the rivers shut up in banks;" [1040]
   the other, "Cannot I ask my Father, and He shall presently give me more
   than twelve legions of angels?" [1041] If we look at the reason of our
   original fall, and the foundations of our salvation, and consider by
   whom and in what way the latter were laid and the former originated, we
   may learn, either through the fall of the devil, or through the example
   of Christ, how to avoid so terrible a death from pride.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1028] Is. xiv. 13.

   [1029] Ps. xliii. (xliv.) 25.

   [1030] Phil. ii. 6-8.

   [1031] S. Matt. xi. 29.

   [1032] Exod. v. 2.

   [1033] S. John viii. 55.

   [1034] Ezek. xxix. 3. (LXX.)

   [1035] S. John v. 30; xiv. 10.

   [1036] S. Luke iv. 6.

   [1037] 2 Cor. viii. 9.

   [1038] Is. x. 14.

   [1039] Ps. ci. (cii.) 7, 8.

   [1040] Is. xxxvii. 25.

   [1041] S. Matt. xxvi. 53.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   How we too may overcome pride.

   And so we can escape the snare of this most evil spirit, if in the case
   of every virtue in which we feel that we make progress, we say these
   words of the Apostle: "Not I, but the grace of God with me," and "by
   the grace of God I am what I am;" [1042] and "it is God that worketh in
   us both to will and to do of His good pleasure." [1043] As the author
   of our salvation Himself also says: "If a man abide in me and I in him,
   the same beareth much fruit; for without me ye can do nothing." [1044]
   And "Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build
   it. Except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain."
   And "Vain is it for you to rise up before light." [1045] For "it is not
   of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that hath
   mercy." [1046]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1042] 1 Cor. xv. 10.

   [1043] Phil. ii. 13.

   [1044] S. John xv. 5.

   [1045] Ps. cxxvi. (cxxvii.) 1, 2.

   [1046] Rom. ix. 16.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   How no one can obtain perfect virtue and the promised bliss by his own
   strength alone.

   For the will and course of no one, however eager and anxious, [1047] is
   sufficiently ready for him, while still enclosed in the flesh which
   warreth against the spirit, to reach so great a prize of perfection,
   and the palm of uprightness and purity, unless he is protected by the
   divine compassion, so that he is privileged to attain to that which he
   greatly desires and to which he runs. For "every good gift and every
   perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights."
   [1048] "For what hast thou which thou didst not receive? But if thou
   hast received it, why dost thou glory as if thou hadst not received
   it?" [1049]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1047] Quamvis ferventis et cupientis (Petschenig): Quamvis volentis et
   currentis (Gazaeus).

   [1048] S. James i. 17.

   [1049] 1 Cor. iv. 7.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   The case of the thief and of David, and of our call in order to
   illustrate the grace of God.

   For if we recall that thief who was by reason of a single confession
   admitted into paradise, [1050] we shall feel that he did not acquire
   such bliss by the merits of his life, but obtained it by the gift of a
   merciful God. Or if we bear in mind those two grievous and heinous sins
   of King David, blotted out by one word of penitence, [1051] we shall
   see that neither here were the merits of his works sufficient to obtain
   pardon for so great a sin, but that the grace of God superabounded, as,
   when the opportunity for true penitence was taken, He removed the whole
   weight of sins through the full confession of but one word. If we
   consider also the beginning of the call and salvation of mankind, in
   which, as the Apostle says, we are saved not of ourselves, nor of our
   works, but by the gift and grace of God, we can clearly see how the
   whole of perfection is "not of him that willeth nor of him that
   runneth, but of God that hath mercy," who makes us victorious over our
   faults, without any merits of works and life on our part to outweigh
   them, or any effort of our will availing to scale the difficult heights
   of perfection, or to subdue the flesh which we have to use:  since no
   tortures of this body, and no contrition of heart, can be sufficient
   for the acquisition of that true chastity of the inner man so as to be
   able to gain that great virtue of purity (which is innate in the angels
   alone and indigenous as it were to heaven) merely by human efforts,
   i.e., without the aid of God: for the performance of everything good
   flows from His grace, who by multiplying His bounty has granted such
   lasting bliss, and vast glory to our feeble will and short and petty
   course of life.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1050] Cf. S. Luke xxiii. 40.

   [1051] Cf. 2 Sam. xii. 13.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   That no toil is worthy to be compared with the promised bliss.

   For all the long years of this present life disappear when you have
   regard to the eternity of the future glory: and all our sorrows vanish
   away in the contemplation of that vast bliss, and like smoke melt away,
   and come to nothing, and like ashes are no more seen.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   The teaching of the elders on the method of acquiring purity.

   Wherefore it is now time to produce, in the very words in which they
   hand it down, the opinion of the Fathers; viz., of those who have not
   painted the way of perfection and its character in high-sounding words,
   but rather, possessing it in deed and truth, and in the virtue of their
   spirit, have passed it on by their own experience and sure example. And
   so they say that no one can be altogether cleansed from carnal sins,
   unless he has realized that all his labours and efforts are
   insufficient for so great and perfect an end; and unless, taught, not
   by the system handed down to him, but by his feelings and virtues and
   his own experience, he recognizes that it can only be gained by the
   mercy and assistance of God. For in order to acquire such splendid and
   lofty prizes of purity and perfection, however great may be the efforts
   of fastings and vigils and readings and solitude and retirement applied
   to it, they will not be sufficient to secure it by the merits of the
   actual efforts and toil. For a man's own efforts and human exertions
   will never make up for the lack of the divine gift, unless it is
   granted by divine compassion in answer to his prayer.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   That the help of God is given to those who labour. [1052]

   Nor do I say this to cast a slight on human efforts, or in the
   endeavour to discourage any one from his purpose of working and doing
   his best. But clearly and most earnestly do I lay down, not giving my
   own opinion, but that of the elders, that perfection cannot possibly be
   gained without these, but that by these only without the grace of God
   nobody can ever attain it. For when we say that human efforts cannot of
   themselves secure it without the aid of God, we thus insist that God's
   mercy and grace are bestowed only upon those who labour and exert
   themselves, and are granted (to use the Apostle's expression) to them
   that "will" and "run," according to that which is sung in the person of
   God in the eighty-eighth Psalm: "I have laid help upon one that is
   mighty, and have exalted one chosen out of my people." [1053] For we
   say, in accordance with our Saviour's words, that it is given to them
   that ask, and opened to them that knock and found by them that seek;
   [1054] but that the asking, the seeking, and the knocking on our part
   are insufficient unless the mercy of God gives what we ask, and opens
   that at which we knock, and enables us to find that which we seek. For
   He is at hand to bestow all these things, if only the opportunity is
   given to Him by our good will. For He desires and looks for our
   perfection and salvation far more than we do ourselves. And the blessed
   David knew so well that by his own efforts he could not secure the
   increase of his work and labour, that he entreated with renewed prayers
   that he might obtain the "direction" of his work from the Lord, saying,
   "Direct thou the work of our hands over us; yea, the work of our hands
   do thou direct;" [1055] and again: "Confirm, O God, what thou hast
   wrought in us." [1056]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1052] The language in this chapter is perilously near
   semi-Pelagianism, on which compare the Introduction p. 190, sq.

   [1053] Ps. lxxxviii. (lxxxix.) 20.

   [1054] S. Matt. vii. 7.

   [1055] Ps. lxxxix. (xc.) 17.

   [1056] Ps. lxvii. (lxiii.) 29.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   From whom we can learn the way of perfection.

   And so, if we wish in very deed and truth to attain to the crown of
   virtues, we ought to listen to those teachers and guides who, not
   dreaming with pompous declamations, but learning by act and experience,
   are able to teach us as well, and direct us likewise, and show us the
   road by which we may arrive at it by a most sure pathway; and who also
   testify that they have themselves reached it by faith rather than by
   any merits of their efforts. And further, the purity of heart that they
   have acquired has taught them this above all; viz., to recognize more
   and more that they are burdened with sin (for their compunction for
   their faults increases day by day in proportion as their purity of soul
   advances), and to sigh continually from the bottom of their heart
   because they see that they cannot possibly avoid the spots and
   blemishes of those faults which are ingrained in them through the
   countless triflings of the thoughts. And therefore they declared that
   they looked for the reward of the future life, not from the merits of
   their works, but from the mercy of the Lord, taking no credit to
   themselves for their great circumspection of heart in comparison with
   others, since they ascribed this not to their own exertions, but to
   divine grace; and without flattering themselves on account of the
   carelessness of those who are cold, and worse than they themselves are,
   they rather aimed at a lasting humility by fixing their gaze on those
   whom they knew to be really free from sin and already in the enjoyment
   of eternal bliss in the kingdom of heaven, and so by this consideration
   they avoided the downfall of pride, and at the same time always saw
   both what they were aiming at and what they had to grieve over: as they
   knew that they could not attain that purity of heart for which they
   yearned while weighed down by the burden of the flesh.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   That we cannot even make the effort to obtain perfection without the
   mercy and inspiration of God.

   We ought therefore, in accordance with their teaching and instruction,
   so to press towards it, and to be diligent in fastings, vigils,
   prayers, and contrition of heart and body, for fear lest all these
   things should be rendered useless by an attack of this malady. For we
   ought to believe not merely that we cannot secure this actual
   perfection by our own efforts and exertions, but also that we cannot
   perform those things which we practise for its sake, viz., our efforts
   and exertions and desires, without the assistance of the divine
   protection, and the grace of His inspiration, chastisement, and
   exhortation, which He ordinarily sheds abroad in our hearts either
   through the instrumentality of another, or in His own person coming to
   visit us.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   Various passages which clearly show that we cannot do anything which
   belongs to our salvation without the aid of God.

   Lastly, the Author of our salvation teaches us what we ought not merely
   to think, but also to acknowledge in everything that we do. "I can," He
   says, "of mine own self do nothing, but the Father which abideth in me,
   He doeth the works." [1057] He says, speaking in the human nature which
   He had taken, [1058] that He could do nothing of Himself; and shall we,
   who are dust and ashes, think that we have no need of God's help in
   what pertains to our salvation? And so let us learn in everything, as
   we feel our own weakness, and at the same time His help, to declare
   with the saints, "I was overturned that I might fall, but the Lord
   supported me. The Lord is my strength and my praise: and He is become
   my salvation." [1059] And "Unless the Lord had helped me, my soul had
   almost dwelt in hell. If I said, My foot is moved: Thy mercy, O Lord,
   assisted me. According to the multitude of my sorrows in my heart, Thy
   comforts have given joy to my soul." [1060] Seeing also that our heart
   is strengthened in the fear of the Lord, and in patience, let us say:
   "And the Lord became my protector; and He brought me forth into a large
   place." [1061] And knowing that knowledge is increased by progress in
   work, let us say: "For thou lightest my lamp, O Lord: O my God,
   enlighten my darkness, for by Thee I shall be delivered from
   temptation, and through my God I shall go over a wall." Then, feeling
   that we have ourselves sought for courage and endurance, and are being
   directed with greater ease and without labour in the path of the
   virtues, let us say, "It is God who girded me with strength, and made
   my way perfect; who made my feet like hart's feet, and setteth me up on
   high: who teacheth my hands to war." And having also secured
   discretion, strengthened with which we can dash down our enemies, let
   us cry aloud to God: "Thy discipline hath set me up [1062] unto the
   end, and Thy discipline the same shall teach me. Thou hast enlarged my
   steps under me, and my feet are not weakened." And because I am thus
   strengthened with Thy knowledge and power, I will boldly take up the
   words which follow, and will say, "I will pursue after my enemies and
   overtake them: and I will not turn again till they are consumed. I will
   break them, and they shall not be able to stand: they shall fall under
   my feet." [1063] Again, mindful of our own infirmity, and of the fact
   that while still burdened with the weak flesh we cannot without His
   assistance overcome such bitter foes as our sins are, let us say,
   "Through Thee we will scatter our enemies: [1064] and through Thy name
   we will despise them that rise up against us. For I will not trust in
   my bow: neither shall my sword save me. For Thou hast saved us from
   them that afflict us: and hast put them to shame that hate us." [1065]
   But further: "Thou hast guided me with strength unto the battle, and
   hast subdued under me them that rose up against me. And Thou hast made
   mine enemies turn their backs upon me, and hast destroyed them that
   hated me." [1066] And reflecting that with our own arms alone we cannot
   conquer, let us say, "Take hold of arms and shield: and rise up to help
   me. Bring out the sword and stop the way against them that persecute
   me: say to my soul, I am thy salvation." [1067] And Thou hast made my
   arms like a brazen bow. And Thou hast given me the protection of Thy
   salvation: and Thy right hand hath held me up." [1068] "For our fathers
   got not the possession of the land through their own sword; neither did
   their own arm save them: but Thy right hand and Thine arm and the light
   of Thy countenance because Thou wast pleased with them." [1069] Lastly,
   as with anxious mind we regard all His benefits with thankfulness, let
   us cry to Him with the inmost feelings of our heart, for all these
   things, because we have fought, and have obtained from Him the light of
   knowledge, and self-control and discretion, and because He has
   furnished us with His own arms, and strengthened us with a girdle of
   virtue, and because He has made our enemies turn their backs upon us,
   and has given us the power of scattering them like the dust before the
   wind: "I will love Thee, O Lord my Strength; the Lord is my stronghold,
   my refuge and my deliverer. My God is my helper, and in Him will I put
   my trust. My protector and the horn of my salvation, and my support.
   Praising I will call upon the name of the Lord; and I shall be saved
   from mine enemies." [1070]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1057] S. John xiv. 10; v. 30.

   [1058] Ex persona hominis assumpti. See the note on Against Nestorius,
   I. v.

   [1059] Ps. cxvii. (cxviii.) 13, 14.

   [1060] Ps. xciii. (xciv.) 17-19.

   [1061] Ps. xvii. (xviii.) 20 sq.

   [1062] Erexit (Petschenig). Gazaeus reads correxit, with the Vulgate.

   [1063] Ps. xvii. (xviii.) 33 sq.

   [1064] Gazaeus adds cornu after the Vulgate.

   [1065] Ps. xliii. (xliv.) 6-8.

   [1066] Ps. xvii. (xviii.) 40, 41.

   [1067] Ps. xxxiv. (xxxv.) 2-4.

   [1068] Ps. xvii. (xviii.) 35.

   [1069] Ps. xliii. (xliv.) 4, 5.

   [1070] Ps. xvii. (xviii.) 2-4.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   How we are protected by the grace of God not only in our natural
   condition, but also by His daily Providence.

   Not alone giving thanks to Him for that He has created us as reasonable
   beings, and endowed us with the power of free will, and blessed us with
   the grace of baptism, and granted to us the knowledge and aid of the
   law, but for these things as well, which are bestowed upon us by His
   daily providence; viz., that He delivers us from the craft of our
   enemies; that He works with us so that we can overcome the sins of the
   flesh, that, even without our knowing it, He shields us from dangers;
   that He protects us from falling into sin; that He helps us and
   enlightens us, so that we can understand and recognize the actual help
   which He gives us, (which some will have it is what is meant by the
   law); [1071] that, when we are through His influence secretly struck
   with compunction for our sins and negligences, He visits us with His
   regard and chastens us to our soul's health; that even against our will
   we are sometimes drawn by Him to salvation; lastly that this very free
   will of ours, which is more readily inclined to sin, is turned by Him
   to a better purpose, and by His prompting and suggestion, bent towards
   the way of virtue.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1071] The allusion is to the Pelagians. Cf. S. Jerome Contra Pelag. I.
   c. ix.; and in Jerem. c. xxv.; and S. Augustine De Gratia Christi
   contra Pelag.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   How this faith concerning the grace of God was delivered to us by the
   ancient Fathers.

   This then is that humility towards God, this is that genuine faith of
   the ancient fathers which still remains intact among their successors.
   And to this faith, the apostolic virtues, which they so often showed,
   bear an undoubted witness, not only among us but also among infidels
   and unbelievers: for keeping in simplicity of heart the simple faith of
   the fishermen they did not receive it in a worldly spirit through
   dialectical syllogisms or the eloquence of a Cicero, but learnt by the
   experience of a pure life, and stainless actions, and by correcting
   their faults, and (to speak more truly) by visible proofs, that the
   character of perfection is to be found in that faith without which
   neither piety towards God, nor purification from sin, nor amendment of
   life, nor perfection of virtue can be secured.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   Of one who for his blasphemy was given over to a most unclean spirit.

   I knew one of the number of the brethren, whom I heartily wish I had
   never known; since afterwards he allowed himself to be saddled with the
   responsibilities of my order: [1072] who confessed to a most admirable
   elder that he was attacked by a terrible sin of the flesh: for he was
   inflamed with an intolerable lust, with the unnatural desire of
   suffering rather than of committing a shameful act: then the other like
   a true spiritual physician, at once saw through the inward cause and
   origin of this evil. And, sighing deeply, said: "Never would the Lord
   have suffered you to be given over to so foul a spirit unless you had
   blasphemed against Him." And he, when this was discovered, at once fell
   at his feet on the ground, and, struck with the utmost astonishment, as
   if he saw the secrets of his heart laid bare by God, confessed that he
   had blasphemed with evil thoughts against the Son of God. Whence it is
   clear that one who is possessed by the spirit of pride, or who has been
   guilty of blasphemy against God,--as one who offers a wrong to Him from
   whom the gift of purity must be looked for--is deprived of his
   uprightness and perfection, and does not deserve the sanctifying grace
   of chastity.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1072] Viz., that of the priesthood.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   The instance of Joash, King of Judah, showing what was the consequence
   of his pride.

   Some such thing we read of in the book of Chronicles. For Joash the
   king of Judah at the age of seven was summoned by Jehoiada the priest
   to the kingdom and by the witness of Scripture is commended for all his
   actions as long as the aforesaid priest lived. But hear what Scripture
   relates of him after Jehoiada's death, and how he was puffed up with
   pride and given over to a most disgraceful state. "But after the death
   of Jehoiada the princes went in and worshipped the king: and he was
   soothed by their services and hearkened unto them. And they forsook the
   temple of the Lord, the God of their fathers, and served groves and
   idols, and great wrath came upon Judah and Jerusalem because of this
   sin." And after a little: "When a year was come about, the army of
   Syria came up against him: and they came to Judah and Jerusalem, and
   killed all the princes of the people, and they sent all the spoils to
   the king to Damascus. And whereas there came a very small number of the
   Syrians, the Lord delivered into their hands an infinite multitude,
   because they had forsaken the Lord the God of their fathers: and on
   Joash they executed shameful judgments. And departing they left him in
   great diseases." [1073] You see how the consequence of pride was that
   he was given over to shocking and filthy passions. For he who is puffed
   up with pride and has permitted himself to be worshipped as God, is (as
   the Apostle says) "given over to shameful passions and a reprobate mind
   to do those things which are not convenient." [1074] And because, as
   Scripture says, "every one who exalts his heart is unclean before God,"
   [1075] he who is puffed up with swelling pride of heart is given over
   to most shameful confusion to be deluded by it, that when thus humbled
   he may know that he is unclean through impurity of the flesh and
   knowledge of impure desires,--a thing which he had refused to recognize
   in the pride of his heart; and also that the shameful infection of the
   flesh may disclose the hidden impurity of the heart, which he
   contracted through the sin of pride, and that through the patent
   pollution of his body he may be proved to be impure, who did not
   formerly see that he had become unclean through the pride of his
   spirit.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1073] 2 Chr. xxiv. 17, 18, 23-25.

   [1074] Rom. i. 26, 28.

   [1075] Prov. xvi. 5 (LXX).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   That every proud soul is subject to spiritual wickedness to be deceived
   by it.

   And this clearly shows that every soul of which the swellings of pride
   have taken possession, is given over to the Syrians of the soul, [1076]
   i.e., to spiritual wickedness, and that it is entangled in the lusts of
   the flesh, that the soul being at last humbled by earthly faults, and
   carnally polluted, may recognize its uncleanness, though while it stood
   erect in the coldness of its heart, it could not understand that
   through pride of heart it was rendered unclean in the sight of God; and
   by this means being humbled, a man may get rid of his former coldness,
   and being cast down and confused with the shame of his fleshly lusts,
   may thenceforward hasten to betake himself the more eagerly towards
   fervour and warmth of spirit.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1076] Intellectuales.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIII.

   How perfection can only be attained through the virtue of humility.

   And so it is clearly shown that none can attain the end of perfection
   and purity, except through true humility, which he displays in the
   first instance to the brethren, and shows also to God in his inmost
   heart, believing that without His protection and aid extended to him at
   every instant, he cannot possibly obtain the perfection which he
   desires and to which he hastens so eagerly.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIV.

   Who are attacked by spiritual and who by carnal pride.

   Thus much let it suffice to have spoken, as far as, by God's help, our
   slender ability was able, concerning spiritual pride of which we have
   said that it attacks advanced Christians. And this kind of pride is not
   familiar to or experienced by most men, because the majority do not aim
   at attaining perfect purity of heart, so as to arrive at the stage of
   these conflicts; nor have they secured any purification from the
   preceding faults of which we have here explained both the character and
   the remedies in separate books. But it generally attacks those only who
   have conquered the former faults and have already almost arrived at the
   top of the tree in respect of the virtues. And because our most crafty
   enemy has not been able to destroy them through a carnal fall, he
   endeavours to cast them down and overthrow them by a spiritual
   catastrophe, trying by this to rob them of the prizes of their ancient
   rewards secured as they were with great labour. But as for us, who are
   still entangled in earthly passions, he never deigns to tempt us in
   this fashion, but overthrows us by a coarser and what I called a carnal
   pride. And therefore I think it well, as I promised, to say a few
   things about this kind of pride by which we and men of our stamp are
   usually affected, and the minds especially of younger men and beginners
   are endangered.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXV.

   A description of carnal pride, and of the evils which it produces in
   the soul of a monk.

   This carnal pride therefore, of which we spoke, when it has gained an
   entrance into the heart of a monk, which is but lukewarm, and has made
   a bad start in renouncing the world, does not suffer him to stoop from
   his former state of worldly haughtiness to the true humility of Christ,
   but first of all makes him disobedient and rough; then it does not let
   him be gentle and kindly; nor allows him to be on a level with and like
   his brethren: nor does it permit him to be stripped and deprived of his
   worldly goods, as God and our Saviour commands: and, though
   renunciation of the world is nothing but the mark of mortification and
   the cross, and cannot begin or rise from any other foundations, but
   these; viz., that a man should recognize that he is not merely
   spiritually dead to the deeds of this world, but also should realize
   daily that he must die in the body--it makes him on the contrary hope
   for a long life, and sets before him many lengthy infirmities, and
   covers him with shame and confusion. If when stripped of everything he
   has begun to be supported by the property of others and not his own, it
   persuades him that it is much better for food and clothing to be
   provided for him by his own rather than by another's means according to
   that text (which, as was before said, [1077] those who are rendered
   dense through such dulness and coldness of heart, cannot possibly
   understand), "It is more blessed to give than to receive." [1078]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1077] See Book X. c. xviii.

   [1078] Acts xx. 35.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVI.

   That a man whose foundation is bad, sinks daily from bad to worse.

   Those then who are possessed by such distrust of mind, and who through
   the devil's own want of faith fall away from that spark of faith, by
   which they seemed in the early days of their conversion to be
   enkindled, begin more anxiously to watch over the money which before
   they had begun to give away, and treasure it up with greater avarice,
   as men who cannot recover again what they have once wasted: or--what is
   still worse--take back what they had formerly cast away: or else (which
   is a third and most disgusting kind of sin), collect what they never
   before possessed, and thus are convicted of having gone no further in
   forsaking the world than merely to take the name and style of monk.
   With this beginning therefore, and on this bad and rotten foundation,
   it is a matter of course that the whole superstructure of faults must
   rise, nor can anything be built on such villainous foundations, except
   what will bring the wretched soul to the ground with a hopeless
   collapse.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVII.

   A description of the faults which spring from the evil of pride.

   The mind then that is hardened by such feelings, and which begins with
   this miserable coldness is sure to go daily from bad to worse and to
   conclude its life with a more hideous end: and while it takes delight
   in its former desires, and is overcome, as the apostle says, by impious
   avarice (as he says of it "and covetousness, which is idolatry, or the
   worship of idols," and again "the love of money," says he, "is the root
   of all evils" [1079] ) can never admit into the heart the true and
   unfeigned humility of Christ, while the man boasts himself of his high
   birth, or is puffed up by his position in the world (which he has
   forsaken in body but not in mind) or is proud of his wealth which he
   retains to his own destruction; and because of this he is no longer
   content to endure the yoke of the monastery, or to be instructed by the
   teaching of any of the elders, and not only objects to observe any rule
   of subjection or obedience, but will not even listen to teaching about
   perfection; and such dislike of spiritual talk grows up in his heart
   that if such a conversation should happen to arise, he cannot keep his
   eyes fixed on one spot, but his gaze wanders blankly about here and
   there, and his eyes shift hither and thither, as the custom is. Instead
   of wholesome coughs, he spits from a dry throat: he coughs on purpose
   without any need, he drums with his fingers, and twiddles them and
   scribbles like a man writing: and all his limbs fidget so that while
   the spiritual conversation is proceeding, you would think that he was
   sitting on thorns, and those very sharp ones, or in the midst of a mass
   of worms: and if the conversation turns in all simplicity on something
   which is for the good of the hearers, he thinks that it is brought
   forward for his especial benefit. And all the time that the examination
   of the spiritual life is proceeding, he is taken up with his own
   suspicious thoughts, and is not on the watch for something to take home
   for his good, but is anxiously seeking the reason why anything is said,
   or is quietly turning over in his mind, how he can raise objections to
   it, so that he cannot at all take in any of those things which are so
   admirably brought forward, or be done any good to by them. And so the
   result is that the spiritual conference is not merely of no use to him,
   but is positively injurious, and becomes to him an occasion of greater
   sin. For while he is conscience stricken and fancies that everything is
   being aimed at him he hardens himself more stubbornly in the obstinacy
   of his heart, and is more keenly affected by the stings of his wrath:
   then afterwards his voice is loud, his talk harsh, his answers bitter
   and noisy, his gait lordly and capricious; his tongue too ready, he is
   forward in conversation and no friend to silence except when he is
   nursing in his heart some bitterness against a brother, and his silence
   denotes not compunction or humility, but pride and wrath: so that one
   can hardly say which is the more objectionable in him, that
   unrestrained and boisterous merriment, or this dreadful and deadly
   solemnity. [1080] For in the former we see inopportune chattering,
   light and frivolous laughter, unrestrained and undisciplined mirth. In
   the latter a silence that is full of wrath and deadly; and which simply
   arises from the desire to prolong as long as possible the rancorous
   feelings which are nourished in silence against some brother, and not
   from the wish to obtain from it the virtues of humility and patience.
   And as the man who is a victim to passion readily makes everybody else
   miserable and is ashamed to apologize to the brother whom he has
   wronged, so when the brother offers to do so to him, he rejects it with
   scorn. And not only is he not touched or softened by the advances of
   his brother; but is the rather made more angry because his brother
   anticipates him in humility. And that wholesome humiliation and
   apology, which generally puts an end to the devil's temptation, becomes
   to him an occasion of a worse outbreak.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1079] Col. iii. 5; 1 Tim. vi. 10.

   [1080] Serietas (Petschenig): Taciturnitas (Gazaeus).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVIII.

   On the pride of a certain brother.

   I have heard while I have been in this district a thing which I shudder
   and am ashamed to recall; viz., that one of the juniors--when he was
   reproved by his Abbot because he had shown signs of throwing off the
   humility, of which he had made trial for a short time at his
   renunciation of the world, and of being puffed up with diabolical
   pride--most impertinently answered, "Did I humiliate myself for a time
   on purpose to be always in subjection?" And at this wanton and wicked
   reply of his the elder was utterly aghast, and could say nothing, as if
   he had received this answer from old Lucifer himself and not from a
   man; so that he could not possibly utter a word against such impudence,
   but only let fall sighs and groans from his heart; turning over in
   silence in his mind that which is said of our Saviour: "Who being in
   the form of God humbled Himself and became obedient"--not, as the man
   said who was seized with a diabolical spirit of pride, "for a time,"
   but "even to death." [1081]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1081] Phil. ii. 6, 8.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIX.

   The signs by which you can recognize the presence of carnal pride in a
   soul.

   And to draw together briefly what has been said of this kind of pride,
   by collecting, as well as we can, some of its signs that we may somehow
   convey to those who are thirsting for instruction in perfection, an
   idea of its characteristics from the movements of the outward man: I
   think it well to unfold them in a few words that we may conveniently
   recognize the signs by which we can discern and detect it, that when
   the roots of this passion are laid bare and brought to the surface, and
   seen and traced out with ocular demonstration, they may be the more
   easily plucked up and avoided. For only then will this most pestilent
   evil be altogether escaped, and if we do not begin too late in the day,
   when it has already got the mastery over us, to be on our guard against
   its dangerous heat and noxious influence, but if, recognizing its
   symptoms (so to speak) beforehand, we take precautions against it with
   wise and careful forethought. For, as we said before, you can tell a
   man's inward condition from his outward gait.  By these signs, then,
   that carnal pride, of which we spoke earlier, is shown. To begin with,
   in conversation the man's voice is loud: in his silence there is
   bitterness: in his mirth his laughter is noisy and excessive: when he
   is serious he is unreasonably gloomy: in his answers there is rancour:
   he is too free with his tongue, his words tumbling out at random
   without being weighed. He is utterly lacking in patience, and without
   charity: impudent in offering insults to others, faint-hearted in
   bearing them himself: troublesome in the matter of obedience except
   where his own wishes and likings correspond with his duty: unforgiving
   in receiving admonition: weak in giving up his own wishes: very
   stubborn about yielding to those of others: always trying to compass
   his own ends, and never ready to give them up for others: and thus the
   result is that though he is incapable of giving sound advice, yet in
   everything he prefers his own opinion to that of the elders.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXX.

   How when a man has grown cold through pride he wants to be put to rule
   other people.

   And when a man whom pride has mastered has fallen through these stages
   of descent, he shudders at the discipline of the coenobium, and--as if
   the companionship of the brethren hindered his perfection, and the sins
   of others impeded and interfered with his advance in patience and
   humility--he longs to take up is abode in a solitary cell; else is
   eager to build a monastery and gather together some others to teach and
   instruct, as if he would do good to many more people, and make himself
   from being a bad disciple a still worse master. For when through this
   pride of heart a man has fallen into this most dangerous and injurious
   coldness, he can neither be a real monk nor a man of the world, and
   what is worse, promises to himself to gain perfection by means of this
   wretched state and manner of life of his.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXI.

   How we can overcome pride and attain perfection.

   Wherefore if we wish the summit of our building to be perfect and to
   rise well-pleasing to God, we should endeavour to lay its foundations
   not in accordance with the desires of our own lust, but according to
   the rules of evangelical strictness: which can only be the fear of God
   and humility, proceeding from kindness and simplicity of heart. But
   humility cannot possibly be acquired without giving up everything: and
   as long as a man is a stranger to this, he cannot possibly attain the
   virtue of obedience, or the strength of patience, or the serenity of
   kindness, or the perfection of love; without which things our hearts
   cannot possibly be a habitation for the Holy Spirit: as the Lord says
   through the prophet: "Upon whom shall My spirit rest, but on him that
   is humble and quiet and hears My words," or according to those copies
   which express the Hebrew accurately: "To whom shall I have respect, but
   to him that is poor and little and of a contrite spirit and that
   trembleth at My words?" [1082]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1082] Is. lxvi. 2. It is noteworthy that Cassian after giving a
   rendering which differs but slightly from that of the old Latin, as
   given in Sabbatier's great work, adds the version of "those copies
   which express the Hebrew accurately," and thus shows his acquaintance
   with Jerome's new translation which he quotes. He does the same thing
   again in the Conferences, XXIII. viii.; and On the Incarnation Against
   Nestorius IV. iii.; V. ii., xv. Compare also Institutes VIII. xxi., and
   Conf. VIII. x.; where he also betrays a knowledge of the Vulgate. As a
   general rule, however, his translations are taken from the old Latin,
   or possibly in some cases are made by him from the LXX.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXII.

   How pride which is so destructive of all virtues can itself be
   destroyed by true humility.

   Wherefore the Christian athlete who strives lawfully in the spiritual
   combat and desires to be crowned by the Lord, should endeavour by every
   means to destroy this most fierce beast, which is destructive of all
   virtues, knowing that as long as this remains in his breast he not only
   will never be free from all kinds of evils, but even if he seems to
   have any good qualities, will lose them by its malign influence. For no
   structure (so to speak) of virtue can possibly be raised in our soul
   unless first the foundations of true humility are laid in our heart,
   which being securely laid may be able to bear the weight of perfection
   and love upon them in such a way that, as we have said, we may first
   show to our brethren true humility from the very bottom of our heart,
   in nothing acquiescing in making them sad or in injuring them: and this
   we cannot possibly manage unless true self-denial, which consists in
   stripping and depriving ourselves of all our possessions, is implanted
   in us by the love of Christ. Next the yoke of obedience and subjection
   must be taken up in simplicity of heart without any pretence, so that,
   except for the commands of the Abbot, no will of our own is alive in
   us. But this can only be ensured in the case of one who considers
   himself not only dead to this world, but also unwise and a fool; and
   performs without any discussion whatever is enjoined him by his
   seniors, believing it to be divine and enjoined from heaven.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXIII.

   Remedies against the evil of pride.

   And when men remain in this condition, there is no doubt that this
   quiet and secure state of humility will follow, so that considering
   ourselves inferior to every one else we shall bear everything offered
   to us, even if it is hurtful, and saddening, and damaging--with the
   utmost patience, as if it came from those who are our superiors. And
   these things we shall not only bear with the greatest ease, but we
   shall consider them trifling and mere nothings, if we constantly bear
   in mind the passion of our Lord and of all His Saints: considering that
   the injuries by which we are tried are so much less than theirs, as we
   are so far behind their merits and their lives: remembering also that
   we shall shortly depart out of this world, and soon by a speedy end to
   our life here become sharers of their lot. For considerations such as
   these are a sure end not only to pride but to all kinds of sins. Then,
   next after this we must keep a firm grasp of this same humility towards
   God: which we must so secure as not only to acknowledge that we cannot
   possibly perform anything connected with the attainment of perfect
   virtue without His assistance and grace, but also truly to believe that
   this very fact that we can understand this, is His own gift.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

                        The Conferences of John Cassian.

Part I.

  Containing Conferences I-X.
     __________________________________________________________________

  Preface.
     __________________________________________________________________

   The obligation, which was promised to the blessed Pope Castor in the
   preface to those volumes which with God's help I composed in twelve
   books on the Institutes of the Coenobia, and the remedies for the eight
   principal faults, has now been, as far as my feeble ability permitted,
   satisfied. I should certainly like to see what was the opinion fairly
   arrived at on this work both by his judgment and yours, whether, on a
   matter so profound and so lofty, and one which has never yet been made
   the subject of a treatise, we have produced anything worthy of your
   notice, and of the eager desire of all the holy brethren. But now as
   the aforesaid Bishop has left us and departed to Christ, meanwhile
   these ten Conferences of the grandest of the fathers, viz., the
   Anchorites who dwelt in the desert of Scete, which he, fired with an
   incomparable desire for saintliness, had bidden me write for him in the
   same style (not considering in the greatness of his affection, what a
   burden he placed on shoulders too weak to bear it)--these Conferences I
   have thought good to dedicate to you in particular, O blessed Pope,
   [1083] Leontius, [1084] and holy brother Helladius. [1085] For one of
   you was united to him whom I have mentioned, by the ties of
   brotherhood, and the rank of the priesthood, and (what is more to the
   point) by fervour in sacred study, and so has an hereditary right to
   demand the debt due to his brother: while the other has ventured to
   follow the sublime customs of the Anchorites, not like some others,
   presumptuously on his own account, but seizing, at the inspiration of
   the Holy Ghost, on the right path of doctrine almost before he had been
   taught and choosing to learn not so much from his own ideas as from
   their traditions. Wherein just as I had anchored in the harbour of
   Silence, a wide sea opens out before me, so that I must venture to hand
   down for posterity some of the Institutes and teaching of these great
   men. For the bark of my slender abilities will be exposed to the
   dangers of a longer voyage on the deep, in proportion as the
   Anchorite's life is grander than that of the Coenobium, and the
   contemplation of God, to which those inestimable men ever devoted
   themselves, more sublime than ordinary practical life. It is yours
   therefore to assist our efforts by your pious prayers for fear lest so
   sacred a subject that is to be treated in an untried but faithful
   manner, should be imperilled by us, or lest our simplicity should lose
   itself in the depths of the subject matter. Let us therefore pass from
   what is visible to the eye and the external mode of life of the monks,
   of which we treated in the former books, to the life of the inner man,
   which is hidden from view; and from the system of the canonical
   prayers, let our discourse mount to that continuance in unceasing
   prayer, which the Apostle enjoins, that whoever has through reading our
   former work already spiritually gained the name of Jacob by ousting his
   carnal faults, may now by the reception of the Institutes which are not
   mine but the fathers', mount by a pure insight to the merits and (so to
   speak) the dignity of Israel, and in the same way be taught what it is
   that he should observe on these lofty heights of perfection. [1086] And
   so may your prayers gain from Him, Who has deemed us worthy both to see
   them and to learn from them and to dwell with them, that He will
   vouchsafe to grant us a perfect recollection of their teaching, and a
   ready tongue to tell it, that we may explain them as beautifully and as
   exactly as we received them from them and may succeed in setting before
   you the men themselves incorporated, as it were, in their own
   Institutes, and what is more to the point, speaking in the Latin
   tongue. Of this however we wish above all to advertise the reader of
   these conferences as well as of our earlier works, that if there
   chances to be anything herein which by reason of his condition and the
   character of his profession, or owing to custom and the common mode of
   life seems to him either impossible or very difficult, he should
   measure it not by the limits of his own powers but by the worth and
   perfection of the speakers, whose zeal and purpose he should first
   consider, as they were truly dead to this worldly life, and so hampered
   by no feelings for their kinsmen according to the flesh, and by no ties
   of worldly occupations. Next let him bear in mind the character of the
   country in which they dwelt, how they lived in a vast desert, and were
   cut off from intercourse with all their fellow-men, and thus were able
   to have their minds enlightened, and to contemplate, and utter those
   things which perhaps will seem impossibilities to the uninitiated and
   uninstructed, because of their way of life and the commonplace
   character of their habits. But if any one wants to give a true opinion
   on this matter, and is anxious to try whether such perfection can be
   attained, let him first endeavour to make their purpose his own, with
   the same zeal and the same mode of life, and then in the end he will
   find that those things which used to seem beyond the powers of men, are
   not only possible, but really delightful. But now let us proceed at
   once to their Conferences and Institutes.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1083] Papa. See note on the Preface to the Institutes.

   [1084] The see of which Leontius was Bishop is uncertain, possibly
   Frejus.

   [1085] Helladius was afterwards raised to the Episcopate, but of what
   see is unknown. See the Preface to Conf. XVIII.

   [1086] The allusion is rather forced and strained. But Cassian means to
   say that those who have got the better of their carnal sins by perusing
   his former work, are already fit to be named Jacob (the supplanter),
   who got the better of his brother: and he hopes that this new work of
   his will give them such a view of God and insight into His dealings
   that they may be worthy to have their name changed, as Jacob's was, to
   Israel, which he takes to mean the man seeing God. Cf. the note on
   Against Nestorius, VII. ix. (intelligibilis here = spiritualis, cf.
   intellectualis. Conf. XII. xi., and elsewhere).
     __________________________________________________________________

Cassian's Conferences.
     __________________________________________________________________

  I. First Conference of Abbot Moses.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   Of our stay in Scete, and that which we proposed to Abbot Moses.

   When I was in the desert of Scete, where are the most excellent
   monastic fathers and where all perfection flourishes, in company with
   the holy father Germanus (who had since the earliest days and
   commencement of our spiritual service been my closest companion both in
   the Coenobium and in the desert, so that to show the harmony of our
   friendship and aims, everybody would say that a single heart and soul
   existed in our two bodies), I sought out Abbot Moses, [1087] who was
   eminent amid those splendid flowers, not only in practical but also in
   contemplative excellence, in my anxiety to be grounded by his
   instruction: and together we implored him to give us a discourse for
   our edification; not without tears, for we knew full well his
   determination never to consent to open the gate of perfection, except
   to those who desired it with all faithfulness, and sought it with all
   sorrow of heart; for fear lest if he showed it at random to those who
   cared nothing for it, or only desired it in a half-hearted way, by
   opening what is necessary, and what ought only to be discovered to
   those seeking perfection, to unworthy persons, and such as accepted it
   with scorn, he might appear to lay himself open either to the charge of
   bragging, or to the sin of betraying his trust; and at last being
   overcome by our prayers he thus began.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1087] On this Moses see the note on Institutes, Book X. xxv.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   Of the question of Abbot Moses, who asked what was the goal and what
   the end of the monk.

   All the arts and sciences, said he, have some goal or mark; and end or
   aim of their own, on which the diligent pursuer of each art has his
   eye, and so endures all sorts of toils and dangers and losses,
   cheerfully and with equanimity, e.g., the farmer, shunning neither at
   one time the scorching heat of the sun, nor at another the frost and
   cold, cleaves the earth unweariedly, and again and again subjects the
   clods of his field to his ploughshare, while he keeps before him his
   goal; viz., by diligent labour to break it up small like fine sand, and
   to clear it of all briers, and free it from all weeds, as he believes
   that in no other way can he gain his ultimate end, which is to secure a
   good harvest, and a large crop; on which he can either live himself
   free from care, or can increase his possessions. Again, when his barn
   is well stocked he is quite ready to empty it, and with incessant
   labour to commit the seed to the crumbling furrow, thinking nothing of
   the present lessening of his stores in view of the future harvest.
   Those men too who are engaged in mercantile pursuits, have no dread of
   the uncertainties and chances of the ocean, and fear no risks, while an
   eager hope urges them forward to their aim of gain. Moreover those who
   are inflamed with the ambition of military life, while they look
   forward to their aim of honours and power take no notice of danger and
   destruction in their wanderings, and are not crushed by present losses
   and wars, while they are eager to obtain the end of some honour held
   out to them. And our profession too has its own goal and end, for which
   we undergo all sorts of toils not merely without weariness but actually
   with delight; on account of which the want of food in fasting is no
   trial to us, the weariness of our vigils becomes a delight; reading and
   constant meditation on the Scriptures does not pall upon us; and
   further incessant toil, and self-denial, and the privation of all
   things, and the horrors also of this vast desert have no terrors for
   us. And doubtless for this it was that you yourselves despised the love
   of kinsfolk, and scorned your fatherland, and the delights of this
   world, and passed through so many countries, in order that you might
   come to us, plain and simple folk as we are, living in this wretched
   state in the desert. Wherefore, said he, answer and tell me what is the
   goal and end, which incite you to endure all these things so
   cheerfully.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   Of our reply.

   And when he insisted on eliciting an opinion from us on this question,
   we replied that we endured all this for the sake of the kingdom of
   heaven.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   Of Abbot Moses' question on the aforesaid statement.

   To which he replied: Good, you have spoken cleverly of the (ultimate)
   end. But what should be our (immediate) goal or mark, by constantly
   sticking close to which we can gain our end, you ought first to know.
   And when we frankly confessed our ignorance, he proceeded: The first
   thing, as I said, in all the arts and sciences is to have some goal,
   i.e., a mark for the mind, and constant mental purpose, for unless a
   man keeps this before him with all diligence and persistence, he will
   never succeed in arriving at the ultimate aim and the gain which he
   desires. For, as I said, the farmer who has for his aim to live free
   from care and with plenty, while his crops are springing has this as
   his immediate object and goal; viz., to keep his field clear from all
   brambles, and weeds, and does not fancy that he can otherwise ensure
   wealth and a peaceful end, unless he first secures by some plan of work
   and hope that which he is anxious to obtain. The business man too does
   not lay aside the desire of procuring wares, by means of which he may
   more profitably amass riches, because he would desire gain to no
   purpose, unless he chose the road which leads to it: and those men who
   are anxious to be decorated with the honours of this world, first make
   up their minds to what duties and conditions they must devote
   themselves, that in the regular course of hope they may succeed in
   gaining the honours they desire. And so the end of our way of life is
   indeed the kingdom of God. But what is the (immediate) goal you must
   earnestly ask, for if it is not in the same way discovered by us, we
   shall strive and wear ourselves out to no purpose, because a man who is
   travelling in a wrong direction, has all the trouble and gets none of
   the good of his journey. And when we stood gaping at this remark, the
   old man proceeded: The end of our profession indeed, as I said, is the
   kingdom of God or the kingdom of heaven: but the immediate aim or goal,
   is purity of heart, without which no one can gain that end: fixing our
   gaze then steadily on this goal, as if on a definite mark, let us
   direct our course as straight towards it as possible, and if our
   thoughts wander somewhat from this, let us revert to our gaze upon it,
   and check them accurately as by a sure standard, which will always
   bring back all our efforts to this one mark, and will show at once if
   our mind has wandered ever so little from the direction marked out for
   it.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   A comparison with a man who is trying to hit a mark.

   As those, whose business it is to use weapons of war, whenever they
   want to show their skill in their art before a king of this world, try
   to shoot their arrows or darts into certain small targets which have
   the prizes painted on them; for they know that they cannot in any other
   way than by the line of their aim secure the end and the prize they
   hope for, which they will only then enjoy when they have been able to
   hit the mark set before them; but if it happens to be withdrawn from
   their sight, however much in their want of skill their aim may vainly
   deviate from the straight path, yet they cannot perceive that they have
   strayed from the direction of the intended straight line because they
   have no distinct mark to prove the skilfulness of their aim, or to show
   up its badness: and therefore while they shoot their missiles idly into
   space, they cannot see how they have gone wrong or how utterly at fault
   they are, since no mark is their accuser, showing how far they have
   gone astray from the right direction; nor can an unsteady look help
   them to correct and restore the straight line enjoined on them. So then
   the end indeed which we have set before us is, as the Apostle says,
   eternal life, as he declares, "having indeed your fruit unto holiness,
   and the end eternal life;" [1088] but the immediate goal is purity of
   heart, which he not unfairly terms "sanctification," without which the
   afore-mentioned end cannot be gained; as if he had said in other words,
   having your immediate goal in purity of heart, but the end life
   eternal. Of which goal the same blessed Apostle teaches us, and
   significantly uses the very term, i.e., skopos, saying as follows,
   "Forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those
   that are before, I press toward the mark, for the prize of the high
   calling of the Lord:" [1089] which is more clearly put in Greek kata
   skopon dioko, i.e., "I press toward the mark," as if he said, "With
   this aim, with which I forget those things that are behind, i.e., the
   faults of earlier life, I strive to reach as the end the heavenly
   prize." Whatever then can help to guide us to this object; viz., purity
   of heart, we must follow with all our might, but whatever hinders us
   from it, we must shun as a dangerous and hurtful thing. For, for this
   we do and endure all things, for this we make light of our kinsfolk,
   our country, honours, riches, the delights of this world, and all kinds
   of pleasures, namely in order that we may retain a lasting purity of
   heart. And so when this object is set before us, we shall always direct
   our actions and thoughts straight towards the attainment of it; for if
   it be not constantly fixed before our eyes, it will not only make all
   our toils vain and useless, and force them to be endured to no purpose
   and without any reward, but it will also excite all kinds of thoughts
   opposed to one another. For the mind, which has no fixed point to which
   it may return, and on which it may chiefly fasten, is sure to rove
   about from hour to hour and minute to minute in all sorts of wandering
   thoughts, and from those things which come to it from outside, to be
   constantly changed into that state which first offers itself to it.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1088] Rom. vi. 22.

   [1089] Phil. iii. 13, 14.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   Of those who in renouncing the world, aim at perfection without love.

   For hence it arises that in the case of some who have despised the
   greatest possessions of this world, and not only large sums of gold and
   silver, but also large properties, we have seen them afterwards
   disturbed and excited over a knife, or pencil, or pin, or pen. Whereas
   if they kept their gaze steadily fixed out of a pure heart they would
   certainly never allow such a thing to happen for trifles, while in
   order that they might not suffer it in the case of great and precious
   riches they chose rather to renounce them altogether. For often too
   some guard their books so jealously that they will not allow them to be
   even slightly moved or touched by any one else, and from this fact they
   meet with occasions of impatience and death, which give them warning of
   the need of acquiring the requisite patience and love; and when they
   have given up all their wealth for the love of Christ, yet as they
   preserve their former disposition in the matter of trifles, and are
   sometimes quickly upset about them, they become in all points barren
   and unfruitful, as those who are without the charity of which the
   Apostle speaks: and this the blessed Apostle foresaw in spirit, and
   "though," says he, "I give all my goods to feed the poor, and give my
   body to be burned, but have not charity, it profiteth me nothing."
   [1090] And from this it clearly follows that perfection is not arrived
   at simply by self-denial, and the giving up of all our goods, and the
   casting away of honours, unless there is that charity, the details of
   which the Apostle describes, which consists in purity of heart alone.
   For "not to be envious," "not to be puffed up, not to be angry, not to
   do any wrong, not to seek one's own, not to rejoice in iniquity, not to
   think evil" etc., what is all this except ever to offer to God a
   perfect and clean heart, and to keep it free from all disturbances?
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1090] 1 Cor. xiii. 3.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   How peace of mind should be sought.

   Everything should be done and sought after by us for the sake of this.
   For this we must seek for solitude, for this we know that we ought to
   submit to fastings, vigils, toils, bodily nakedness, reading, and all
   other virtues that through them we may be enabled to prepare our heart
   and to keep it unharmed by all evil passions, and resting on these
   steps to mount to the perfection of charity, and with regard to these
   observances, if by accident we have been employed in some good and
   useful occupation and have been unable to carry out our customary
   discipline, we should not be overcome by vexation or anger, or passion,
   with the object of overcoming which, we were going to do that which we
   have omitted. For the gain from fasting will not balance the loss from
   anger, nor is the profit from reading so great as the harm which
   results from despising a brother. Those things which are of secondary
   importance, such as fastings, vigils, withdrawal from the world,
   meditation on Scripture, we ought to practise with a view to our main
   object, i.e., purity of heart, which is charity, and we ought not on
   their account to drive away this main virtue, for as long as it is
   still found in us intact and unharmed, we shall not be hurt if any of
   the things which are of secondary importance are necessarily omitted;
   since it will not be of the slightest use to have done everything, if
   this main reason of which we have spoken be removed, for the sake of
   which everything is to be done. For on this account one is anxious to
   secure and provide for one's self the implements for any branch of
   work, not simply to possess them to no purpose, nor as if one made the
   profit and advantage, which is looked for from them, to consist in the
   bare fact of possession but that by using them, one may effectually
   secure practical knowledge and the end of that particular art of which
   they are auxiliaries. Therefore fastings, vigils, meditation on the
   Scriptures, self-denial, and the abnegation of all possessions are not
   perfection, but aids to perfection: because the end of that science
   does not lie in these, but by means of these we arrive at the end. He
   then will practise these exercises to no purpose, who is contented with
   these as if they were the highest good, and has fixed the purpose of
   his heart simply on them, and does not extend his efforts towards
   reaching the end, on account of which these should be sought: for he
   possesses indeed the implements of his art, but is ignorant of the end,
   in which all that is valuable resides. Whatever then can disturb that
   purity and peace of mind--even though it may seem useful and
   valuable--should be shunned as really hurtful, for by this rule we
   shall succeed in escaping harm from mistakes and vagaries, and make
   straight for the desired end and reach it.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Of the main effort towards the contemplation of things and an
   illustration from the case of Martha and Mary.

   This then should be our main effort: and this steadfast purpose of
   heart we should constantly aspire after; viz., that the soul may ever
   cleave to God and to heavenly things. Whatever is alien to this,
   however great it may be, should be given the second place, or even
   treated as of no consequence, or perhaps as hurtful. We have an
   excellent illustration of this state of mind and condition in the
   gospel in the case of Martha and Mary: for when Martha was performing a
   service that was certainly a sacred one, since she was ministering to
   the Lord and His disciples, and Mary being intent only on spiritual
   instruction was clinging close to the feet of Jesus which she kissed
   and anointed with the ointment of a good confession, she is shown by
   the Lord to have chosen the better part, and one which should not be
   taken away from her: for when Martha was toiling with pious care, and
   was cumbered about her service, seeing that of herself alone she was
   insufficient for such service she asks for the help of her sister from
   the Lord, saying: "Carest Thou not that my sister has left me to serve
   alone: bid her therefore that she help me"--certainly it was to no
   unworthy work, but to a praiseworthy service that she summoned her: and
   yet what does she hear from the Lord? "Martha, Martha, thou art anxious
   and troubled about many things: but few things are needful, or only
   one. Mary hath chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from
   her." [1091] You see then that the Lord makes the chief good consist in
   meditation; i.e., in divine contemplation: whence we see that all other
   virtues should be put in the second place, even though we admit that
   they are necessary, and useful, and excellent, because they are all
   performed for the sake of this one thing. For when the Lord says: "Thou
   art careful and troubled about many things, but few things are needful
   or only one," He makes the chief good consist not in practical work
   however praiseworthy and rich in fruits it may be, but in contemplation
   of Him, which indeed is simple and "but one"; declaring that "few
   things" are needful for perfect bliss, i.e., that contemplation which
   is first secured by reflecting on a few saints: from the contemplation
   of whom, he who has made some progress rises and attains by God's help
   to that which is termed "one thing," i.e., the consideration of God
   alone, so as to get beyond those actions and services of Saints, and
   feed on the beauty and knowledge of God alone. "Mary" therefore "chose
   the good part, which shall not be taken away from her." And this must
   be more carefully considered. For when He says that Mary chose the good
   part, although He says nothing of Martha, and certainly does not appear
   to blame her, yet in praising the one, He implies that the other is
   inferior. Again when He says "which shall not be taken away from her,"
   He shows that from the other her portion can be taken away (for a
   bodily ministry cannot last forever with a man), but teaches that this
   one's desire can never have an end.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1091] S. Luke x. 40-42. The reading which Cassian here follows is
   found in 'BC,^2 but has not much Latin authority. It is however
   followed by Jerome Ep: ad Eustochium, xxii. 24, though the Vulgate has
   simply Porro unum est necessarium. For Mary as the type of the
   contemplative life, and Martha of the practical, compare S. Gregory the
   Great. Moralia VI. c. xxviii.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   A question how it is that the practice of virtue cannot remain with a
   man.

   To which we, being deeply moved, replied what then? will the effort of
   fasting, diligence in reading, works of mercy, justice, piety, and
   kindness, be taken away from us, and not continue with the doers of
   them, especially since the Lord Himself promises the reward of the
   kingdom of heaven to these works, when He says: "Come, ye blessed of My
   Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the beginning of the
   world. For I was an hungred, and ye gave Me to eat; I was thirsty and
   ye gave Me to drink:" etc. [1092] How then shall these works be taken
   away, which admit the doers of them into the kingdom of heaven?
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1092] S. Matt. xxv. 34, 35.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   The answer that not the reward, but the doing of them will come to an
   end.

   Moses. I did not say that the reward for a good work would be taken
   away, as the Lord Himself says: "Whosoever shall give to one of the
   least of these, a cup of cold water only in the name of a disciple,
   verily I say unto you, he shall not lose his reward:" [1093] but I
   maintain that the doing of a thing, which either bodily necessity, or
   the onslaught of the flesh, or the inequalities of this world, compel
   to be done, will be taken away. For diligence in reading, and
   self-denial in fasting, are usefully practised for purifying the heart
   and chastening the flesh in this life only, as long as "the flesh
   lusteth against the spirit," [1094] and sometimes we see that even in
   this life they are taken away from those men who are worn out with
   excessive toil, or bodily infirmity or old age, and cannot be practised
   by them. How much more then will they come to an end hereafter, when
   "this corruptible shall have put on incorruption," [1095] and the body
   which is now "a natural body" shall have risen "a spiritual body"
   [1096] and the flesh shall have begun to be such that it no longer
   lusts against the spirit? And of this the blessed Apostle also clearly
   speaks, when he says that "bodily exercise is profitable for a little:
   but godliness" (by which he certainly means love) "is profitable for
   all things, having the promise of the life that now is and of that
   which is to come." [1097] This clearly shows that what is said to be
   useful for a little, is not to be practised for all time, and cannot
   possibly by itself alone confer the highest state of perfection on the
   man who slaves at it. For the term "for a little" may mean either of
   the two things, i.e., it may refer to the shortness of the time,
   because bodily exercise cannot possibly last on with man both in this
   life and in the world to come: or it may refer to the smallness of the
   profit which results from exercising the flesh, because bodily
   austerities produce some sort of beginnings of progress, but not the
   actual perfection of love, which has the promise of the life that now
   is and of that which is to come: and therefore we deem that the
   practice of the aforesaid works is needful, because without them we
   cannot climb the heights of love. For what you call works of religion
   and mercy are needful in this life while these inequalities and
   differences of conditions still prevail; but even here we should not
   look for them to be performed, unless such a large proportion of poor,
   needy, and sick folk abounded, which is brought about by the wickedness
   of men; viz., of those who have grasped and kept for their own use
   (without however using them) those things which were granted to all by
   the Creator of all alike. As long then as this inequality lasts in this
   world, this sort of work will be needful and useful to the man that
   practises it, as it brings to a good purpose and pious will the reward
   of an eternal inheritance: but it will come to an end in the life to
   come, where equality will reign, when there will be no longer
   inequality, on account of which these things must be done, but all men
   will pass from these manifold practical works to the love of God, and
   contemplation of heavenly things in continual purity of heart: to which
   those men who are urgent in devoting themselves to knowledge and
   purifying the heart, have chosen to give themselves up with all their
   might and main, betaking themselves, while they are still in the flesh,
   to that duty, in which they are to continue, when they have laid aside
   corruption, and when they come to that promise of the Lord the Saviour,
   which says "Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God."
   [1098]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1093] S. Matt. x. 42.

   [1094] Gal. v. 17.

   [1095] 1 Cor. xv. 53.

   [1096] 1 Cor. xv. 44.

   [1097] 1 Tim. iv. 8.

   [1098] S. Matt. v. 8.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   On the abiding character of love.

   And why do you wonder that those duties enumerated above will cease,
   when the holy Apostle tells us that even the higher gifts of the Holy
   Spirit will pass away: and points out that charity alone will abide
   without end, saying "whether there be prophecies, they shall fail;
   whether there be tongues, they shall cease: whether there be knowledge,
   it will come to an end," but of this he says "Charity never faileth."
   For all gifts are given for a time as use and need require, but when
   the dispensation is ended they will without doubt presently pass away:
   but love will never be destroyed. For not only does it work usefully in
   us in this world; but also in that to come, when the burden of bodily
   needs is cast off, it will continue in far greater vigour and
   excellence, and will never be weakened by any defect, but by means of
   its perpetual incorruption will cling to God more intently and
   earnestly. [1099]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1099] 1 Cor. xiii. 8.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   A question on perseverance in spiritual contemplation.

   Germanus. Who then, while he is burdened with our frail flesh, can be
   always so intent on this contemplation, as never to think about the
   arrival of a brother, or visiting the sick, or manual labour, or at
   least about showing kindness to strangers and visitors? And lastly, who
   is not interrupted by providing for the body, and looking after it? Or
   how and in what way can the mind cling to the invisible and
   incomprehensible God, this we should like to learn.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   The answer concerning the direction of the heart towards and concerning
   the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the devil.

   Moses. To cling to God continually, and as you say inseparably to hold
   fast to meditation on Him, is impossible for a man while still in this
   weak flesh of ours. But we ought to be aware on what we should have the
   purpose of our mind fixed, and to what goal we should ever recall the
   gaze of our soul: and when the mind can secure this it may rejoice; and
   grieve and sigh when it is withdrawn from this, and as often as it
   discovers itself to have fallen away from gazing on Him, it should
   admit that it has lapsed from the highest good, considering that even a
   momentary departure from gazing on Christ is fornication. And when our
   gaze has wandered ever so little from Him, let us turn the eyes of the
   soul back to Him, and recall our mental gaze as in a perfectly straight
   direction. For everything depends on the inward frame of mind, and when
   the devil has been expelled from this, and sins no longer reign in it,
   it follows that the kingdom of God is founded in us, as the Evangelist
   says "The kingdom of God cometh not with observation, nor shall men say
   Lo here, or lo there: for verily I say unto you that the kingdom of God
   is within you." [1100] But nothing else can be "within you," but
   knowledge or ignorance of truth, and delight either in vice or in
   virtue, through which we prepare a kingdom for the devil or for Christ
   in our heart: and of this kingdom the Apostle describes the character,
   when he says "For the kingdom of God is not meat and drink, but
   righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost." [1101] And so if
   the kingdom of God is within us, and the actual kingdom of God is
   righteousness and peace and joy, then the man who abides in these is
   most certainly in the kingdom of God, and on the contrary those who
   live in unrighteousness, and discord, and the sorrow that worketh
   death, have their place in the kingdom of the devil, and in hell and
   death. For by these tokens the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the
   devil are distinguished: and in truth if lifting up our mental gaze on
   high we would consider that state in which the heavenly powers live on
   high, who are truly in the kingdom of God, what should we imagine it to
   be except perpetual and lasting joy? For what is so specially peculiar
   and appropriate to true blessedness as constant calm and eternal joy?
   And that you may be quite sure that this, which we say, is really so,
   not on my own authority but on that of the Lord, hear how very clearly
   He describes the character and condition of that world: "Behold," says
   He, "I create new heavens and a new earth: and the former things shall
   not be remembered nor come into mind. But ye shall be glad and rejoice
   forever in that which I create." [1102] And again "joy and gladness
   shall be found therein: thanksgiving and the voice of praise, and there
   shall be month after month, and Sabbath after Sabbath." [1103] And
   again: "they shall obtain joy and gladness; and sorrow and sighing
   shall flee away." [1104] And if you want to know more definitely about
   that life and the city of the saints, hear what the voice of the Lord
   proclaims to the heavenly Jerusalem herself: "I will make," says He,
   "thine officers peace and thine overseers righteousness. Violence shall
   no more be heard in thy land, desolation nor destruction within thy
   borders. And salvation shall take possession of thy walls, and praise
   of thy gates. The sun shall be no more thy light by day, neither shall
   the brightness of the moon give light to thee: but the Lord shall be
   thine everlasting light, and thy God thy glory. Thy sun shall no more
   go down, neither shall thy moon withdraw itself: but the Lord shall be
   thine everlasting light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended:"
   [1105] and therefore the holy Apostle does not say generally or without
   qualification that every joy is the kingdom of God, but markedly and
   emphatically that joy alone which is "in the Holy Ghost." [1106] For he
   was perfectly aware of another detestable joy, of which we hear "the
   world shall rejoice," [1107] and "woe unto you that laugh, for ye shall
   mourn." [1108] In fact the kingdom of heaven must be taken in a
   threefold sense, either that the heavens shall reign, i.e., the saints
   over other things subdued, according to this text, "Be thou over five
   cities, and thou over ten;" [1109] and this which is said to the
   disciples: "Ye shall sit upon twelve thrones judging the twelve tribes
   of Israel:" [1110] or that the heavens themselves shall begin to be
   reigned over by Christ, when "all things are subdued unto Him," and God
   begins to be "all in all:" [1111] or else that the saints shall reign
   in heaven with the Lord.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1100] S. Luke xvii. 20, 21.

   [1101] Rom. xiv. 17.

   [1102] Is. lxv. 17, 18.

   [1103] Is. li. 3; lxvi. 23.

   [1104] Is. xxxv. 10.

   [1105] Is. lx. 17-20.

   [1106] Cf. Rom. xiv. 17.

   [1107] S. John xvi. 20.

   [1108] S. Luke vi. 25.

   [1109] S. Luke xix. 17, 19.

   [1110] S. Matt. xix. 28.

   [1111] 1 Cor. xv. 28.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   Of the continuance of the soul.

   Wherefore every one while still existing in this body should already be
   aware that he must be committed to that state and office, of which he
   made himself a sharer and an adherent while in this life, nor should he
   doubt that in that eternal world he will be partner of him, whose
   servant and minister he chose to make himself here: according to that
   saying of our Lord which says "If any man serve Me, let him follow Me,
   and where I am, there shall My servant also be." [1112] For as the
   kingdom of the devil is gained by consenting to sin, so the kingdom of
   God is attained by the practice of virtue in purity of heart and
   spiritual knowledge. But where the kingdom of God is, there most
   certainly eternal life is enjoyed, and where the kingdom of the devil
   is, there without doubt is death and the grave. And the man who is in
   this condition, cannot praise the Lord, according to the saying of the
   prophet which tells us: "The dead cannot praise Thee, O Lord; neither
   all they that go down into the grave (doubtless of sin). But we," says
   he, "who live (not forsooth to sin nor to this world but to God) will
   bless the Lord, from this time forth for evermore: for in death no man
   remembereth God: but in the grave (of sin) who will confess to the
   Lord?" [1113] i.e., no one will. For no man even though he were to call
   himself a Christian a thousand times over, or a monk, confesses God
   when he is sinning: no man who allows those things which the Lord
   hates, remembereth God, nor calls himself with any truth the servant of
   Him, whose commands he scorns with obstinate rashness: in which death
   the blessed Apostle declares that the widow is involved, who gives
   herself to pleasure, saying "a widow who giveth herself to pleasure is
   dead while she liveth." [1114] There are then many who while still
   living in this body are dead, and lying in the grave cannot praise God;
   and on the contrary there are many who though they are dead in the body
   yet bless God in the spirit, and praise Him, according to this: "O ye
   spirits and souls of the righteous, bless ye the Lord:" [1115] and
   "every spirit shall praise the Lord." [1116] And in the Apocalypse the
   souls of them that are slain are not only said to praise God but to
   address Him also. [1117] In the gospel too the Lord says with still
   greater clearness to the Sadducees: "Have ye not read that which was
   spoken by God, when He said to you: I am the God of Abraham, and the
   God of Isaac and the God of Jacob. He is not the God of the dead but of
   the living: for all do live unto Him." [1118] Of whom also the Apostle
   says: "wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God: for He hath
   prepared for them a city." [1119] For that they are not idle after the
   separation from this body, and are not incapable of feeling, the
   parable in the gospel shows, which tells us of the beggar Lazarus and
   Dives clothed in purple, one of whom obtained a position of bliss,
   i.e., Abraham's bosom, the other is consumed with the dreadful heat of
   eternal fire. [1120] But if you care too to understand the words spoken
   to the thief "To-day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise," [1121] what do
   they clearly show but that not only does their former intelligence
   continue with the souls, but also that in their changed condition they
   partake of some state which corresponds to their actions and deserts?
   For the Lord would certainly never have promised him this, if He had
   known that his soul after being separated from the flesh would either
   have been deprived of perception or have been resolved into nothing.
   For it was not his flesh but his soul which was to enter Paradise with
   Christ. At least we must avoid, and shun with the utmost horror, that
   wicked punctuation of the heretics, who, as they do not believe that
   Christ could be found in Paradise on the same day on which He descended
   into hell, thus punctuate "Verily, I say unto you to-day," and making a
   stop apply "thou shalt be with Me in Paradise," in such a way that they
   imagine that this promise was not fulfilled at once after he departed
   from this life, but that it will be fulfilled after the resurrection,
   [1122] as they do not understand what before the time of His
   resurrection He declared to the Jews, who fancied that He was hampered
   by human difficulties and weakness of the flesh as they were: "No man
   hath ascended into heaven, but He who came down from heaven, even the
   Son of man who is in heaven:" [1123] by which He clearly shows that the
   souls of the departed are not only not deprived of their reason, but
   that they are not even without such feelings as hope and sorrow, joy
   and fear, and that they already are beginning to taste beforehand
   something of what is reserved for them at the last judgment, and that
   they are not as some unbelievers hold resolved into nothing after their
   departure from this life: [1124] but that they live a more real life,
   and are still more earnest in waiting on the praises of God. And indeed
   to put aside for a little Scripture proofs, and to discuss, as far as
   our ability permits us, a little about the nature of the soul itself,
   is it not beyond the bounds of I will not say the folly, but the
   madness of all stupidity, even to have the slightest suspicion that the
   nobler part of man, in which as the blessed Apostle shows, the image
   and likeness of God consists, [1125] will, when the burden of the body
   with which it is oppressed in this world is laid aside, become
   insensible, when, as it contains in itself all the power of reason, it
   makes the dumb and senseless material flesh sensible, by participation
   with it: especially when it follows, and the order of reason itself
   demands that when the mind has put off the grossness of the flesh with
   which it is now weighed down, it will restore its intellectual powers
   better than ever, and receive them in a purer and finer condition than
   it lost them. But so far did the blessed Apostle recognize that what we
   say is true, that he actually wished to depart from this flesh; that by
   separation from it, he might be able to be joined more earnestly to the
   Lord; saying: "I desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ, which is
   far better, for while we are in the body we are absent from the Lord:"
   and therefore "we are bold and have our desire always to be absent from
   the body, and present with the Lord. Wherefore also we strive, whether
   absent or present, to be pleasing to Him;" [1126] and he declares
   indeed that the continuance of the soul which is in the flesh is
   distance from the Lord, and absence from Christ, and trusts with entire
   faith that its separation and departure from this flesh involves
   presence with Christ. And again still more clearly the same Apostle
   speaks of this state of the souls as one that is very full of life:
   "But ye are come to Mount Sion, and the city of the living God, the
   heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels, and the
   church of the first born, who are written in heaven, and the spirits of
   just men made perfect." [1127] Of which spirits he speaks in another
   passage, "Furthermore we have had instructors of our flesh, and we
   reverenced them: shall we not much more be subject to the Father of
   spirits and live?" [1128]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1112] S. John xii. 26.

   [1113] Ps. cxiii. 17, 18; vi. 6.

   [1114] 1 Tim. v. 6.

   [1115] Dan. iii. 86 (LXX).

   [1116] Ps. cl. 6.

   [1117] Cf. Rev. vi. 9, 10.

   [1118] S. Matt. xxii. 31, 32.

   [1119] Heb. xi. 16.

   [1120] Cf. S. Luke xvi. 19 sq.

   [1121] S. Luke xxiii. 43.

   [1122] The punctuation which Cassian here mentions only to reject and
   which is rightly characterized by Alford as "worse than silly," is also
   mentioned by Theophylact. Com. in loc.

   [1123] S. John iii. 13.

   [1124] Augustine (De Haeres. c. lix.) speaks of "Seleuciani" or
   "Hermiani" as denying a visible Paradise, and a future resurrection;
   and again in c. lxxxiii. he speaks of some Arabian heretics, as
   teaching that the soul died and was dissolved (dissolvi) with the body
   and that it would at the end of the world be revived and rise again.
   These were the heretics of whom Eusebius speaks in his Eccl. History
   Book VI. c. xxxvii., where he tells us that they were successfully
   refuted by Origen. It is probably to this last error that Cassian is
   here making allusion.

   [1125] Cf. 1 Cor. xi. 7; Col. iii. 10.

   [1126] Phil. i. 23; 2 Cor. v. 6.

   [1127] Heb. xii. 22, 23.

   [1128] Ibid., ver. 9.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   How we must meditate on God.

   But the contemplation of God is gained in a variety of ways. For we not
   only discover God by admiring His incomprehensible essence, a thing
   which still lies hid in the hope of the promise, but we see Him through
   the greatness of His creation, and the consideration of His justice,
   and the aid of His daily providence: when with pure minds we
   contemplate what He has done with His saints in every generation, when
   with trembling heart we admire His power with which He governs,
   directs, and rules all things, or the vastness of His knowledge, and
   that eye of His from which no secrets of the heart can lie hid, when we
   consider the sand of the sea, and the number of the waves measured by
   Him and known to Him, when in our wonder we think that the drops of
   rain, the days and hours of the ages, and all things past and future
   are present to His knowledge; when we gaze in unbounded admiration on
   that ineffable mercy of His, which with unwearied patience endures
   countless sins which are every moment being committed under His very
   eyes, or the call with which from no antecedent merits of ours, but by
   the free grace of His pity He receives us; or again the numberless
   opportunities of salvation which He grants to those whom He is going to
   adopt--that He made us be born in such a way as that from our very
   cradles His grace and the knowledge of His law might be given to us,
   that He Himself, overcoming our enemy in us simply for the pleasure of
   His good will, rewards us with eternal bliss and everlasting rewards,
   when lastly He undertook the dispensation of His Incarnation for our
   salvation, and extended the marvels of His sacraments [1129] to all
   nations. But there are numberless other considerations of this sort,
   which arise in our minds according to the character of our life and the
   purity of our heart, by which God is either seen by pure eyes or
   embraced: which considerations certainly no one will preserve
   lastingly, if anything of carnal affections still survives in him,
   because "thou canst not," saith the Lord, "see My face: for no man
   shall see Me and live;" [1130] viz., to this world and to earthly
   affections.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1129] Mysteriorum.

   [1130] Exod. xxxiii. 20.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   A question on the changing character of the thoughts.

   Germanus. How is it then, that even against our will, aye and without
   our knowledge idle thoughts steal upon us so subtilely and secretly
   that it is fearfully hard not merely to drive them away, but even to
   grasp and seize them? Can then a mind sometimes be found free from
   them, and never attacked by illusions of this kind?
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   The answer what the mind can and what it cannot do with regard to the
   state of its thoughts.

   Moses. It is impossible for the mind not to be approached by thoughts,
   but it is in the power of every earnest man either to admit them or to
   reject them. As then their rising up does not entirely depend on
   ourselves, so the rejection or admission of them lies in our own power.
   But because we said that it is impossible for the mind not to be
   approached by thoughts, you must not lay everything to the charge of
   the assault, or to those spirits who strive to instil them into us,
   else there would not remain any free will in man, nor would efforts for
   our improvement be in our power: but it is, I say, to a great extent in
   our power to improve the character of our thoughts and to let either
   holy and spiritual thoughts or earthly ones grow up in our hearts. For
   for this purpose frequent reading and continual meditation on the
   Scriptures is employed that from thence an opportunity for spiritual
   recollection may be given to us, therefore the frequent singing of
   Psalms is used, that thence constant feelings of compunction may be
   provided, and earnest vigils and fasts and prayers, that the mind may
   be brought low and not mind earthly things, but contemplate things
   celestial, for if these things are dropped and carelessness creeps on
   us, the mind being hardened with the foulness of sin is sure to incline
   in a carnal direction and fall away.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   Comparison of a soul and a millstone.

   And this movement of the heart is not unsuitably illustrated by the
   comparison of a mill wheel, which the headlong rush of water whirls
   round, with revolving impetus, and which can never stop its work so
   long as it is driven round by the action of the water: but it is in the
   power of the man who directs it, to decide whether he will have wheat
   or barley or darnel ground by it. That certainly must be crushed by it
   which is put into it by the man who has charge of that business. So
   then the mind also through the trials of the present life is driven
   about by the torrents of temptations pouring in upon it from all sides,
   and cannot be free from the flow of thoughts: but the character of the
   thoughts which it should either throw off or admit for itself, it will
   provide by the efforts of its own earnestness and diligence: for if, as
   we said, we constantly recur to meditation on the Holy Scriptures and
   raise our memory towards the recollection of spiritual things and the
   desire of perfection and the hope of future bliss, spiritual thoughts
   are sure to rise from this, and cause the mind to dwell on those things
   on which we have been meditating. But if we are overcome by sloth or
   carelessness and spend our time in idle gossip, or are entangled in the
   cares of this world and unnecessary anxieties, the result will be that
   a sort of species of tares will spring up, and afford an injurious
   occupation for our hearts, and as our Lord and Saviour says, wherever
   the treasure of our works or purpose may be, there also our heart is
   sure to continue. [1131]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1131] Cf. S. Matt. vi. 21.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   Of the three origins of our thoughts.

   Above all we ought at least to know that there are three origins of our
   thoughts, i.e., from God, from the devil, and from ourselves. They come
   from God when He vouchsafes to visit us with the illumination of the
   Holy Ghost, lifting us up to a higher state of progress, and where we
   have made but little progress, or through acting slothfully have been
   overcome, He chastens us with most salutary compunction, or when He
   discloses to us heavenly mysteries, or turns our purpose and will to
   better actions, as in the case where the king Ahasuerus, being
   chastened by the Lord, was prompted to ask for the books of the annals,
   by which he was reminded of the good deeds of Mordecai, and promoted
   him to a position of the highest honour and at once recalled his most
   cruel sentence concerning the slaughter of the Jews. [1132] Or when the
   prophet says: "I will hearken what the Lord God will say in me." [1133]
   Another too tells us "And an angel spoke, and said in me," [1134] or
   when the Son of God promised that He would come with His Father, and
   make His abode in us, [1135] and "It is not ye that speak, but the
   Spirit of your Father which speaketh in you." [1136] And the chosen
   vessel: "Ye seek a proof of Christ that speaketh in me." [1137] But a
   whole range of thoughts springs from the devil, when he endeavours to
   destroy us either by the pleasures of sin or by secret attacks, in his
   crafty wiles deceitfully showing us evil as good, and transforming
   himself into an angel of light to us: [1138] as when the evangelist
   tells us: "And when supper was ended, when the devil had already put it
   into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray" [1139] the
   Lord: and again also "after the sop," he says, "Satan entered into
   him." [1140] Peter also says to Ananias: "Why hath Satan tempted thine
   heart, to lie to the Holy Ghost?" [1141] And that which we read in the
   gospel much earlier as predicted by Ecclesiastes: "If the spirit of the
   ruler rise up against thee, leave not thy place." [1142] That too which
   is said to God against Ahab in the third book of Kings, in the
   character of an unclean spirit: "I will go forth and will be a lying
   spirit in the mouth of all his prophets." [1143] But they arise from
   ourselves, when in the course of nature we recollect what we are doing
   or have done or have heard. Of which the blessed David speaks: "I
   thought upon the ancient days, and had in mind the years from of old,
   and I meditated, by night I exercised myself with my heart, and
   searched out my spirit." [1144] And again: "the Lord knoweth the
   thoughts of man, that they are vain:" [1145] and "the thoughts of the
   righteous are judgments." [1146] In the gospel too the Lord says to the
   Pharisees: "why do ye think evil in your hearts?" [1147]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1132] Cf. Esth. vi. 1 sq.

   [1133] Ps. lxxxiv. (lxxxv.) 9.

   [1134] Zech. i. 14.

   [1135] Cf. S. John xiv. 23.

   [1136] S. Matt. x. 20.

   [1137] 2 Cor. xiii. 3.

   [1138] Cf. 2 Cor. xi. 4.

   [1139] S. John xiii. 2.

   [1140] Ibid., ver. 27.

   [1141] Acts v. 3.

   [1142] Eccl. x. 4.

   [1143] 1 Kings xxii. 22.

   [1144] Ps. lxxvi. (lxxvii.) 6, 7. Scobebam(which Petschenig edits from
   the mss.) = scopebam, which is found in the Gallican Psalter as in the
   old Latin in this passage. It is merely a Latinized form of skopein.

   [1145] Ps. xciii. (xciv.) 11.

   [1146] Prov. xii. 5.

   [1147] S. Matt. ix. 4.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   About discerning the thoughts, with an illustration from a good
   money-changer.

   We ought then carefully to notice this threefold order, and with a wise
   discretion to analyse the thoughts which arise in our hearts, tracking
   out their origin and cause and author in the first instance, that we
   may be able to consider how we ought to yield ourselves to them in
   accordance with the desert of those who suggest them so that we may, as
   the Lord's command bids us, become good money-changers, [1148] whose
   highest skill and whose training is to test what is perfectly pure gold
   and what is commonly termed tested, [1149] or what is not sufficiently
   purified in the fire; and also with unerring skill not to be taken in
   by a common brass denarius, if by being coloured with bright gold it is
   made like some coin of great value; and not only shrewdly to recognize
   coins stamped with the heads of usurpers, but with a still shrewder
   skill to detect those which have the image of the right king, but are
   not properly made, and lastly to be careful by the test of the balance
   to see that they are not under proper weight. All of which things the
   gospel saying, which uses this figure, shows us that we ought also to
   observe spiritually; first that whatever has found an entrance into our
   hearts, and whatever doctrine has been received by us, should be most
   carefully examined to see whether it has been purified by the divine
   and heavenly fire of the Holy Ghost, or whether it belongs to Jewish
   superstition, or whether it comes from the pride of a worldly
   philosophy and only externally makes a show of religion. And this we
   can do, if we carry out the Apostle's advice, "Believe not every
   spirit, but prove the spirits whether they are of God." [1150] But by
   this kind those men also are deceived, who after having been professed
   as monks are enticed by the grace of style, and certain doctrines of
   philosophers, which at the first blush, owing to some pious meanings
   not out of harmony with religion, deceive as with the glitter of gold
   their hearers, whom they have superficially attracted, but render them
   poor and miserable for ever, like men deceived by false money made of
   copper: either bringing them back to the bustle of this world, or
   enticing them into the errors of heretics, and bombastic conceits: a
   thing which we read of as happening to Achan in the book of Joshua the
   son of Nun, [1151] when he coveted a golden weight from the camp of the
   Philistines, and stole it, and was smitten with a curse and condemned
   to eternal death. In the second place we should be careful to see that
   no wrong interpretation fixed on to the pure gold of Scripture deceives
   us as to the value of the metal: by which means the devil in his craft
   tried to impose upon our Lord and Saviour as if He was a mere man, when
   by his malevolent interpretation he perverted what ought to be
   understood generally of all good men, and tried to fasten it specially
   on to Him, who had no need of the care of the angels: saying, "For He
   shall give His angels charge concerning Thee, to keep Thee in all Thy
   ways: and in their hands they shall bear Thee up, lest at any time Thou
   dash Thy foot against a stone," [1152] by a skilful assumption on his
   part giving a turn to the precious sayings of Scripture and twisting
   them into a dangerous sense, the very opposite of their true meaning,
   so as to offer to us the image and face of an usurper under cover of
   the gold colour which may deceive us. Or whether he tries to cheat us
   with counterfeits, for instance by urging that some work of piety
   should be taken up which as it does come from the true minds of the
   fathers, leads under the form of virtue to vice; and, deceiving us
   either by immoderate or impossible fasts, or by too long vigils, or
   inordinate prayers, or unsuitable reading, brings us to a bad end. Or,
   when he persuades us to give ourselves up to mixing in the affairs of
   others, and to pious visits, by which he may drive us away from the
   spiritual cloisters of the monastery, and the secrecy of its friendly
   peacefulness, and suggests that we take on our shoulders the anxieties
   and cares of religious women who are in want, that when a monk is
   inextricably entangled in snares of this sort he may distract him with
   most injurious occupations and cares. Or else when he incites a man to
   desire the holy office of the clergy under the pretext of edifying many
   people, and the love of spiritual gain, by which to draw us away from
   the humility and strictness of our life. All of which things, although
   they are opposed to our salvation and to our profession, yet when
   covered with a sort of veil of compassion and religion, easily deceive
   those who are lacking in skill and care. For they imitate the coins of
   the true king, because they seem at first full of piety, but are not
   stamped by those who have the right to coin, i.e., the approved
   Catholic fathers, nor do they proceed from the head public office for
   receiving them, but are made by stealth and by the fraud of the devil,
   and palmed off upon the unskilful and ignorant not without serious
   harm. And even although they seem to be useful and needful at first,
   yet if afterwards they begin to interfere with the soundness of our
   profession, and as it were to weaken in some sense the whole body of
   our purpose, it is well that they should be cut off and cast away from
   us like a member which may be necessary, but yet offends us and which
   seems to perform the office of the right hand or foot. For it is
   better, without one member of a command, i.e., its working or result,
   to continue safe and sound in other parts, and to enter as weak into
   the kingdom of heaven rather than with the whole mass of commands to
   fall into some error which by an evil custom separates us from our
   strict rule and the system purposed and entered upon, and leads to such
   loss, that it will never outweigh the harm that will follow, but will
   cause all our past fruits and the whole body of our work to be burnt in
   hell fire. [1153] Of which kind of illusions it is well said in the
   Proverbs: "There are ways which seem to be right to a man, but their
   latter end will come into the depths of hell," [1154] and again "An
   evil man is harmful when he attaches himself to a good man," [1155]
   i.e., the devil deceives when he is covered with an appearance of
   sanctity: "but he hates the sound of the watchman," [1156] i.e., the
   power of discretion which comes from the words and warnings of the
   fathers.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1148] Ut efficiamur secundum proeceptum Domini probabiles trapezitoe.
   The saying to which Cassian here alludes, ginesthe trapexitai dokimoi,
   is not found anywhere in the Gospels, but "is the most commonly quoted
   of all Apocryphal sayings, and seems to be genuine." Westcott, Introd.
   to the Gospels, p. 454. It is quoted among others by Origen in Joann.
   xix., and Jerome Ep. 152. See these and other reff. in Anger's
   Synopsis, p. 274; and cf. the note of Gazaeus here.

   [1149] Obrizum. The word occurs in the Vulgate five times for "pure
   gold." See 2 Chr. iii. 5; Job xxviii. 15; xxxi. 24; Isa. xiii. 12; Dan.
   x. 5; and is akin to the Greek obruzon. Cf. Pliny Nat. Hist. xxxiii. c.
   3, and Jerome De Nom. Hebr. s. v. Ophaz.

   [1150] 1 John iv. 1.

   [1151] Cf. Josh. vii.

   [1152] S. Matt. iv. 6; Ps. xc. 11, 12.

   [1153] Cf. S. Matt. xviii. 8.

   [1154] Prov. xvi. 25 (LXX.).

   [1155] Prov. xi. 15 (LXX.).

   [1156] Prov. xi. 15 (LXX.).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   Of the illusion of Abbot John.

   In this manner we have heard that Abbot John who lived at Lycon, [1157]
   was recently deceived. For when his body was exhausted and failing as
   he had put off taking food during a fast of two days, on the third day
   while he was on his way to take some refreshment the devil came in the
   shape of a filthy Ethiopian, and falling at his feet, cried "Pardon me
   because I appointed this labour for you." And so that great man, who
   was so perfect in the matter of discretion, understood that under
   pretence of an abstinence practised unsuitably, he was deceived by the
   craft of the devil, and engaged in a fast of such a character as to
   affect his worn out body with a weariness that was unnecessary, indeed
   that was harmful to the spirit; as he was deceived by a counterfeit
   coin, and, while he paid respect to the image of the true king upon it,
   was not sufficiently alive to the question whether it was rightly cut
   and stamped. But the last duty of this "good money-changer," which, as
   we mentioned before, concerns the examination of the weight, will be
   fulfilled, if whenever our thoughts suggest that anything is to be
   done, we scrupulously think it over, and, laying it in the scales of
   our breast, weigh it with the most exact balance, whether it be full of
   good for all, or heavy with the fear of God: or entire and sound in
   meaning; or whether it be light with human display or some conceit of
   novelty, or whether the pride of foolish vain glory has not diminished
   or lessened the weight of its merit. And so straightway weighing them
   in the public balance, i.e., testing them by the acts and proofs of the
   Apostles and Prophets let us hold them as it were entire and perfect
   and of full weight, or else with all care and diligence reject them as
   imperfect and counterfeit, and of insufficient weight.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1157] On this John of Lycon or Lycopolis see the note on Inst. IV.
   xxiii.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   Of the fourfold method of discrimination.

   This power of discriminating will then be necessary for us in the
   fourfold manner of which we have spoken; viz., first that the material
   does not escape our notice whether it be of true or of painted gold:
   secondly, that those thoughts which falsely promise works of religion
   should be rejected by us as forged and counterfeit coins, as they are
   those which are not rightly stamped, and which bear an untrue image of
   the king; and that we may be able in the same way to detect those which
   in the case of the precious gold of Scripture, by means of a false and
   heretical meaning, show the image not of the true king but of an
   usurper; and that we refuse those whose weight and value the rust of
   vanity has depreciated and not allowed to pass in the scales of the
   fathers, as coins that are too light, and are false and weigh too
   little; so that we may not incur that which we are warned by the Lord's
   command to avoid with all our power, and lose the value and reward of
   all our labour. "Lay not up for yourselves treasures on the earth,
   where rust and moth corrupt and where thieves break through and steal."
   [1158] For whenever we do anything with a view to human glory we know
   that we are, as the Lord says, laying up for ourselves treasure on
   earth, and that consequently being as it were hidden in the ground and
   buried in the earth it must be destroyed by sundry demons or consumed
   by the biting rust of vain glory, or devoured by the moths of pride so
   as to contribute nothing to the use and profits of the man who has
   hidden it. We should then constantly search all the inner chambers of
   our hearts, and trace out the footsteps of whatever enters into them
   with the closest investigation lest haply some beast, if I may say so,
   relating to the understanding, either lion or dragon, passing through
   has furtively left the dangerous marks of his track, which will show to
   others the way of access into the secret recesses of the heart, owing
   to a carelessness about our thoughts. And so daily and hourly turning
   up the ground of our heart with the gospel plough, i.e., the constant
   recollection of the Lord's cross, we shall manage to stamp out or
   extirpate from our hearts the lairs of noxious beasts and the lurking
   places of poisonous serpents.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1158] S. Matt. vi. 19.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIII.

   Of the discourse of the teacher in regard to the merits of his hearers.

   At this the old man seeing that we were astonished, and inflamed at the
   words of his discourse with an insatiable desire, stopped his speech
   for a little in consequence of our admiration and earnestness, and
   presently added: Since your zeal, my sons, has led to so long a
   discussion, and a sort of fire supplies keener zest to our conference
   in proportion to your earnestness, as from this very thing I can
   clearly see that you are truly thirsting after teaching about
   perfection, I want still to say something to you on the excellence of
   discrimination and grace which rules and holds the field among all
   virtues, and not merely to prove its value and usefulness by daily
   instances of it, but also from former deliberations and opinions of the
   fathers. For I remember that frequently when men were asking me with
   sighs and tears for a discourse of this kind, and I myself was anxious
   to give them some teaching I could not possibly manage it, and not
   merely my thoughts but even my very power of speech failed me so that I
   could not find how to send them away with even some slight consolation.
   And by these signs we clearly see that the grace of the Lord inspires
   the speakers with words according to the deserts and zeal of the
   hearers. And because the very short night which is before us does not
   allow me to finish the discourse, let us the rather give it up to
   bodily rest, in which the whole of it will have to be spent, if a
   reasonable portion is refused, and let us reserve the complete scheme
   of the discourse for unbroken consideration on a future day or night.
   For it is right for the best counsellors on discretion to show the
   diligence of their minds in the first place in this, and to prove
   whether they are or can be possessors of it by this evidence and
   patience, so that in treating of that virtue which is the mother of
   moderation they may by no means fall into the vice which is opposite to
   it; viz., that of undue length, by their actions and deeds destroying
   the force of the system and nature which they recommend in word. In
   regard then to this most excellent discretion, on which we still
   propose to inquire, so far as the Lord gives us power, it may in the
   first instance be a good thing, when we are disputing about its
   excellence and the moderation which we know exists in it as the first
   of virtues, not to allow ourselves to exceed the due limit of the
   discussion and of our time.

   And so with this the blessed Moses put a stop to our talk, and urged
   us, eager though we were and hanging on his lips, to go off to bed for
   a little, advising us to lie down on the same mats on which we were
   sitting, and to put our bundles [1159] under our heads instead of
   pillows, as these being tied evenly to thicker leaves of papyrus
   collected in long and slender bundles, six feet apart, at one time
   provide the brethren when sitting at service with a very low seat
   instead of a footstool, at another time being put under their necks
   when they go to bed furnish a support for their heads, that is not too
   hard, but comfortable and just right. For which uses of the monks these
   things are considered especially fit and suitable not only because they
   are somewhat soft, and prepared at little cost of money and labour, as
   the papyrus grows everywhere along the banks of the Nile, but also
   because they are of a convenient stuff and light enough to be removed
   or fetched as need may require. And so at last at the bidding of the
   old man we settled ourselves down to sleep in deep stillness, both
   excited with delight at the conference we had held, and also buoyed up
   with hope of the promised discussion.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1159] Embrimium. The word is possibly of Egyptian origin. It occurs
   also in Cyril in Vita S. Euthymii Abbatt, n. 90, and in Apophthegm,
   Patrum num. 7, and is possibly the same word as "Ebymium," which occurs
   in the Rule of Pachomius, c. xiv. See Ducange, sub voce.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  II. Second Conference of Abbot Moses.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   Abbot Moses' introduction on the grace of discretion.

   And so when we had enjoyed our morning sleep, when to our delight the
   dawn of light again shone upon us, and we had begun to ask once more
   for his promised talk, the blessed Moses thus began: As I see you
   inflamed with such an eager desire, that I do not believe that that
   very short interval of quiet which I wanted to subtract from our
   spiritual conference and devote to bodily rest, has been of any use for
   the repose of your bodies, on me too a greater anxiety presses when I
   take note of your zeal. For I must give the greater care and devotion
   in paying my debt, in proportion as I see that you ask for it the more
   earnestly, according to that saying: "When thou sittest to eat with a
   ruler consider diligently what is put before thee, and put forth thine
   hand, knowing that thou oughtest to prepare such things." [1160]
   Wherefore as we are going to speak of the excellent quality of
   discretion and the virtue of it, on which subject our discourse of last
   night had entered at the termination of our discussion, we think it
   desirable first to establish its excellence by the opinions of the
   fathers, that when it has been shown what our predecessors thought and
   said about it, then we may bring forward some ancient and modern
   shipwrecks and mischances of various people, who were destroyed and
   hopelessly ruined because they paid but little attention to it, and
   then as well as we can we must treat of its advantages and uses: after
   a discussion of which we shall know better how we ought to seek after
   it and practise it, by the consideration of the importance of its value
   and grace. For it is no ordinary virtue nor one which can be freely
   gained by merely human efforts, unless they are aided by the Divine
   blessing, for we read that this is also reckoned among the noblest
   gifts of the Spirit by the Apostle: "To one is given by the Spirit the
   word of wisdom, to another the word of knowledge by the same Spirit, to
   another faith by the same Spirit, to another the gift of healing by the
   same Spirit," and shortly after, "to another the discerning of
   spirits." Then after the complete catalogue of spiritual gifts he
   subjoins: "But all these worketh one and the selfsame Spirit, dividing
   to every man severally as He will." [1161] You see then that the gift
   of discretion is no earthly thing and no slight matter, but the
   greatest prize of divine grace. And unless a monk has pursued it with
   all zeal, and secured a power of discerning with unerring judgment the
   spirits that rise up in him, he is sure to go wrong, as if in the
   darkness of night and dense blackness, and not merely to fall down
   dangerous pits and precipices, but also to make frequent mistakes in
   matters that are plain and straightforward.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1160] Prov. xxiii. 1, 2 (LXX.).

   [1161] 1 Cor. xii. 8-11.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   What discretion alone can give a monk; and a discourse of the blessed
   Antony on this subject.

   And so I remember that while I was still a boy, in the region of
   Thebaid, where the blessed Antony lived, [1162] the elders came to him
   to inquire about perfection: and though the conference lasted from
   evening till morning, the greatest part of the night was taken up with
   this question. For it was discussed at great length what virtue or
   observance could preserve a monk always unharmed by the snares and
   deceits of the devil, and carry him forward on a sure and right path,
   and with firm step to the heights of perfection. And when each one gave
   his opinion according to the bent of his own mind, and some made it
   consist in zeal in fasting and vigils, because a soul that has been
   brought low by these, and so obtained purity of heart and body will be
   the more easily united to God, others in despising all things, as, if
   the mind were utterly deprived of them, it would come the more freely
   to God, as if henceforth there were no snares to entangle it: others
   thought that withdrawal from the world was the thing needful, i.e.,
   solitude and the secrecy of the hermit's life; living in which a man
   may more readily commune with God, and cling more especially to Him;
   others laid down that the duties of charity, i.e., of kindness should
   be practised, because the Lord in the gospel promised more especially
   to give the kingdom to these; when He said "Come ye blessed of My
   Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the
   world. For I was an hungred and ye gave Me to eat, I was thirsty and ye
   gave Me to drink, etc.:" [1163] and when in this fashion they declared
   that by means of different virtues a more certain approach to God could
   be secured, and the greater part of the night had been spent in this
   discussion, then at last the blessed Antony spoke and said: All these
   things which you have mentioned are indeed needful, and helpful to
   those who are thirsting for God, and desirous to approach Him. But
   countless accidents and the experience of many people will not allow us
   to make the most important of gifts consist in them. For often when men
   are most strict in fasting or in vigils, and nobly withdraw into
   solitude, and aim at depriving themselves of all their goods so
   absolutely that they do not suffer even a day's allowance of food or a
   single penny to remain to them, and when they fulfil all the duties of
   kindness with the utmost devotion, yet still we have seen them suddenly
   deceived, so that they could not bring the work they had entered upon
   to a suitable close, but brought their exalted fervour and praiseworthy
   manner of life to a terrible end. Wherefore we shall be able clearly to
   recognize what it is which mainly leads to God, if we trace out with
   greater care the reason of their downfall and deception. For when the
   works of the above mentioned virtues were abounding in them, discretion
   alone was wanting, and allowed them not to continue even to the end.
   Nor can any other reason for their falling off be discovered except
   that as they were not sufficiently instructed by their elders they
   could not obtain judgment and discretion, which passing by excess on
   either side, teaches a monk always to walk along the royal road, and
   does not suffer him to be puffed up on the right hand of virtue, i.e.,
   from excess of zeal to transgress the bounds of due moderation in
   foolish presumption, nor allows him to be enamoured of slackness and
   turn aside to the vices on the left hand, i.e., under pretext of
   controlling the body, to grow slack with the opposite spirit of
   luke-warmness. For this is discretion, which is termed in the gospel
   the "eye," "and light of the body," according to the Saviour's saying:
   "The light of thy body is thine eye: but if thine eye be single, thy
   whole body will be full of light, but if thine eye be evil, thy whole
   body will be full of darkness:" [1164] because as it discerns all the
   thoughts and actions of men, it sees and overlooks all things which
   should be done. But if in any man this is "evil," i.e., not fortified
   by sound judgment and knowledge, or deceived by some error and
   presumption, it will make our whole body "full of darkness," i.e., it
   will darken all our mental vision and our actions, as they will be
   involved in the darkness of vices and the gloom of disturbances. For,
   says He, "if the light which is in thee be darkness, how great will
   that darkness be!" [1165] For no one can doubt that when the judgment
   of our heart goes wrong, and is overwhelmed by the night of ignorance,
   our thoughts and deeds, which are the result of deliberation and
   discretion, must be involved in the darkness of still greater sins.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1162] Cf. the note on the Institutes, V. iv.

   [1163] S. Matt. xxv. 35, 36.

   [1164] S. Matt. vi. 22, 23.

   [1165] S. Matt. vi. 22, 23.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   Of the error of Saul and of Ahab, by which they were deceived through
   lack of discretion.

   Lastly, the man who in the judgment of God was the first to be worthy
   of the kingdom of His people Israel, because he was lacking in this
   "eye" of discretion, was, as if his whole body were full of darkness,
   actually cast down from the kingdom while, being deceived by the
   darkness of this "light," and in error, he imagined that his own
   offerings were more acceptable to God than obedience to the command of
   Samuel, and met with an occasion of falling in that very matter in
   which he had hoped to propitiate the Divine Majesty. [1166] And
   ignorance, I say, of this discretion led Ahab the king of Israel after
   a triumph and splendid victory which had been granted to him by the
   favour of God to fancy that mercy on his part was better than the stern
   execution of the divine command, and, as it seemed to him, a cruel
   rule: and moved by this consideration, while he desired to temper a
   bloody victory with mercy, he was on account of his indiscriminating
   clemency rendered full of darkness in his whole body, and condemned
   irreversibly to death. [1167]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1166] Cf. 1 Sam. xv.

   [1167] Cf. 1 Kings xx.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   What is said of the value of discretion in Holy Scripture.

   Such is discretion, which is not only the "light of the body," but also
   called the sun by the Apostle, as it said "Let not the sun go down upon
   your wrath." [1168] It is also called the guidance of our life: as it
   said "Those who have no guidance, fall like leaves." [1169] It is most
   truly named counsel, without which the authority of Scripture allows us
   to do nothing, so that we are not even permitted to take that spiritual
   "wine which maketh glad the heart of man" [1170] without its regulating
   control: as it is said "Do everything with counsel, drink thy wine with
   counsel," [1171] and again "like a city that has its walls destroyed
   and is not fenced in, so is a man who does anything without counsel."
   [1172] And how injurious the absence of this is to a monk, the
   illustration and figure in the passage quoted shows, by comparing it to
   a city that is destroyed and without walls. Herein lies wisdom, herein
   lies intelligence and understanding without which our inward house
   cannot be built, nor can spiritual riches be gathered together, as it
   is said: "A house is built with wisdom, and again it is set up with
   intelligence. With understanding the storehouses are filled with all
   precious riches and good things." [1173] This I say is "solid food,"
   which can only be taken by those who are full grown and strong, as it
   is said: "But solid food is for full grown men, who by reason of use
   have their senses exercised to discern good and evil." [1174] And it is
   shown to be useful and necessary for us, only in so far as it is in
   accordance with the word of God and its powers, as is said "For the
   word of God is quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged
   sword, and reaching even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, of
   both joints and marrow, and a discerner of the thoughts and intents of
   the heart:" [1175] and by this it is clearly shown that no virtue can
   possibly be perfectly acquired or continue without the grace of
   discretion. And so by the judgment of the blessed Antony as well as of
   all others it has been laid down that it is discretion which leads a
   fearless monk by fixed stages to God, and preserves the virtues
   mentioned above continually intact, by means of which one may ascend
   with less weariness to the extreme summit of perfection, and without
   which even those who toil most willingly cannot reach the heights of
   perfection. For discretion is the mother of all virtues, as well as
   their guardian and regulator.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1168] Eph. iv. 26.

   [1169] Prov. xi. 14 (LXX.).

   [1170] Ps. ciii. (civ.) 15.

   [1171] Prov. xxxi. 3 (LXX.).

   [1172] Prov. xxv. 28 (LXX.).

   [1173] Prov. xxiv. 3, 4 (LXX.).

   [1174] Heb. v. 14.

   [1175] Heb. iv. 12.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   Of the death of the old man Heron.

   And to support this judgment delivered of old by the blessed Antony and
   the other fathers by a modern instance, as we promised to do, remember
   what you lately saw happen before your very eyes, I mean, how the old
   man Heron, [1176] only a very few days ago was cast down by an illusion
   of the devil from the heights to the depths, a man whom we remember to
   have lived for fifty years in this desert and to have preserved a
   strict continence with especial severity, and who aimed at the secrecy
   of solitude with marvellous fervour beyond all those who dwell here. By
   what device then or by what method was he deluded by the deceiver after
   so many labours, and falling by a most grievous downfall struck with
   profound grief all those who live in this desert? Was it not because,
   having too little of the virtue of discretion he preferred to be guided
   by his own judgment rather than to obey the counsels and conference of
   the brethren and the regulations of the elders? Since he ever practised
   incessant abstinence and fasting with such severity, and persisted in
   the secrecy of solitude and a monastic cell so constantly that not even
   the observance of the Easter festival could ever persuade him to join
   in the feast with the brethren: when in accordance with the annual
   observance, all the brethren remained in the church and he alone would
   not join them for fear lest he might seem to relax in some degree from
   his purpose by taking only a little pulse. And deceived by this
   presumption he received with the utmost reverence an angel of Satan as
   an angel of light and with blind slavishness obeyed his commands and
   cast himself down a well, so deep that the eye could not pierce its
   depths, nothing doubting of the promise of the angel who had assured
   him that the merits of his virtues and labours were such that he could
   not possibly run any risk. And that he might prove the truth of this
   most certainly by experimenting on his own safety, in the dead of night
   he was deluded enough to cast himself into the above mentioned well, to
   prove indeed the great merit of his virtue if he should come out thence
   unhurt. And when by great efforts on the part of the brethren he had
   been got out already almost dead, on the third day afterward he
   expired, and what was still worse, persisted in his obstinate delusion
   so that not even the experience of his death could persuade him that he
   had been deceived by the craft of devils. Wherefore in spite of the
   merits of his great labours and the number of years which he had spent
   in the desert those who with compassion and the greatest kindness
   pitied his end, could hardly obtain from Abbot Paphnutius [1177] that
   he should not be reckoned among suicides, and be deemed unworthy of the
   memorial and oblation for those at rest. [1178]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1176] Gazaeus thinks that this is a different person from the man of
   the same name mentioned by Palladius, Hist. Laus. c. xxxii.

   [1177] On Paphnutius see the note on III. i.

   [1178] Pausantium, i.e., those at rest. The word is used for the
   departed in a similar way in the 6th Canon of the Council of Aurelia
   (Orleans) a.d. 511. "Quando recitantur pausantium nomina." And the
   phrase "Pausat in pace" is occasionally found in sepulchral
   inscriptions. Inscr. Boldetti Cimeter. p. 399; Inscr. Maff. Gall.
   Antiq. p. 55.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   Of the destruction of two brethren for lack of discretion.

   What shall I say of those two brethren who lived beyond that desert of
   the Thebaid where once the blessed Antony dwelt, and, not being
   sufficiently influenced by careful discrimination, when they were going
   through the vast and extended waste determined not to take any food
   with them, except such as the Lord Himself might provide for them. And
   when as they wandered through the deserts and were already fainting
   from hunger they were spied at a distance by the Mazices [1179] (a race
   which is even more savage and ferocious than almost all wild tribes,
   for they are not driven to shed blood, as other tribes are, from desire
   of spoil but from simple ferocity of mind), and when these acting
   contrary to their natural ferocity, met them with bread, one of the two
   as discretion came to his aid, received it with delight and
   thankfulness as if it were offered to him by the Lord, thinking that
   the food had been divinely provided for him, and that it was God's
   doing that those who always delighted in bloodshed had offered the
   staff of life to men who were already fainting and dying; but the other
   refused the food because it was offered to him by men and died of
   starvation. And though this sprang in the first instance from a
   persuasion that was blame-worthy yet one of them by the help of
   discretion got the better of the idea which he had rashly and
   carelessly conceived, but the other persisting in his obstinate folly,
   and being utterly lacking in discretion, brought upon himself that
   death which the Lord would have averted, as he would not believe that
   it was owing to a Divine impulse that the fierce barbarians forgot
   their natural ferocity and offered them bread instead of a sword.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1179] Mazices: a people of Mauritania Caesariensis, who joined in the
   revolt of Firmus, but submitted to Theodosius in 373. See Ammianus
   Marcellinus XXIX. v. S: 17.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   Of an illusion into which another fell for lack of discretion.

   Why also should I speak of one (whose name we had rather not mention as
   he is still alive), who for a long while received a devil in the
   brightness of an angelic form, and was often deceived by countless
   revelations from him and believed that he was a messenger of
   righteousness: for when these were granted, every night he provided a
   light in his cell without the need of any lamp. At last he was ordered
   by the devil to offer up to God his own son who was living with him in
   the monastery, in order that his merits might by this sacrifice be made
   equal to those of the patriarch Abraham. And he was so far seduced by
   his persuasion that he would really have committed the murder unless
   his son had seen him getting ready the knife and sharpening it with
   unusual care, and looking for the chains with which he meant to tie him
   up for the sacrifice when he was going to offer him up; and had fled
   away in terror with a presentiment of the coming crime.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Of the fall and deception of a monk of Mesopotamia.

   It is a long business too to tell the story of the deception of that
   monk of Mesopotamia, who observed an abstinence that could be imitated
   by but few in that country, which he had practised for many years
   concealed in his cell, and at last was so deceived by revelations and
   dreams that came from the devil that after so many labours and good
   deeds, in which he had surpassed all those who dwelt in the same parts,
   he actually relapsed miserably into Judaism and circumcision of the
   flesh. For when the devil by accustoming him to visions through the
   wish to entice him to believe a falsehood in the end, had like a
   messenger of truth revealed to him for a long while what was perfectly
   true, at length he showed him Christian folk together with the leaders
   of our religion and creed; viz. Apostles and Martyrs, in darkness and
   filth, and foul and disfigured with all squalor, and on the other hand
   the Jewish people with Moses, the patriarchs and prophets, dancing with
   all joy and shining with dazzling light; and so persuaded him that if
   he wanted to share their reward and bliss, he must at once submit to
   circumcision. And so none of these would have been so miserably
   deceived, if they had endeavoured to obtain a power of discretion. Thus
   the mischances and trials of many show how dangerous it is to be
   without the grace of discretion.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   A question about the acquirement of true discretion.

   To this Germanus: It has been fully and completely shown both by recent
   instances and by the decisions of the ancients how discretion is in
   some sense the fountain head and the root of all virtues. We want then
   to learn how it ought to be gained, or how we can tell whether it is
   genuine and from God, or whether it is spurious and from the devil: so
   that (to use the figure of that gospel parable which you discussed on a
   former occasion, in which we are bidden to become good money changers
   [1180] ) we may be able to see the figure of the true king stamped on
   the coin and to detect what is not stamped on coin that is current, and
   that, as you said in yesterday's talk using an ordinary expression, we
   may reject it as counterfeit, under the teaching of that skill which
   you treated of with sufficient fulness and detail, and showed ought to
   belong to the man who is spiritually a good money changer of the
   gospel. For of what good will it be to have recognized the value of
   that virtue and grace if we do not know how to seek for it and to gain
   it?
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1180] Cf. I. xx.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   The answer how true discretion may be gained.

   Then Moses: True discretion, said he, is only secured by true humility.
   And of this humility the first proof is given by reserving everything
   (not only what you do but also what you think), for the scrutiny of the
   elders, so as not to trust at all in your own judgment but to acquiesce
   in their decisions in all points, and to acknowledge what ought to be
   considered good or bad by their traditions. [1181] And this habit will
   not only teach a young man to walk in the right path through the true
   way of discretion, but will also keep him unhurt by all the crafts and
   deceits of the enemy. For a man cannot possibly be deceived, who lives
   not by his own judgment but according to the example of the elders, nor
   will our crafty foe be able to abuse the ignorance of one who is not
   accustomed from false modesty to conceal all the thoughts which rise in
   his heart, but either checks them or suffers them to remain, in
   accordance with the ripened judgment of the elders. For a wrong thought
   is enfeebled at the moment that it is discovered: and even before the
   sentence of discretion has been given, the foul serpent is by the power
   of confession dragged out, so to speak, from his dark under-ground
   cavern, and in some sense shown up and sent away in disgrace. For evil
   thoughts will hold sway in us just so long as they are hidden in the
   heart: and that you may gather still more effectually the power of this
   judgment I will tell you what Abbot Serapion did, [1182] and what he
   used often to tell to the younger brethren for their edification.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1181] Cf. what is said on this subject in the Institutes, Book IV. c.
   ix.

   [1182] Probably the author of Conference V., where see the note on c.
   i.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   The words of Abbot Serapion on the decline of thoughts that are exposed
   to others, and also on the danger of self-confidence.

   While, said he, I was still a lad, and stopping with Abbot Theonas,
   [1183] this habit was forced upon me by the assaults of the enemy, that
   after I had supped with the old man at the ninth hour, I used every day
   secretly to hide a biscuit in my dress, which I would eat on the sly
   later on without his knowing it. And though I was constantly guilty of
   the theft with the consent of my will, and the want of restraint that
   springs from desire that has grown inveterate, yet when my unlawful
   desire was gratified I would come to myself and torment myself over the
   theft committed in a way that overbalanced the pleasure I had enjoyed
   in the eating. And when I was forced not without grief of heart to
   fulfil day after day this most heavy task required of me, so to speak,
   by Pharaoh's taskmasters, instead of bricks, and could not escape from
   this cruel tyranny, and yet was ashamed to disclose the secret theft to
   the old man, it chanced by the will of God that I was delivered from
   the yoke of this voluntary captivity, when certain brethren had sought
   the old man's cell with the object of being instructed by him. And when
   after supper the spiritual conference had begun to be held, and the old
   man in answer to the questions which they had propounded was speaking
   about the sin of gluttony and the dominion of secret thoughts, and
   showing their nature and the awful power which they have so long as
   they are kept secret, I was overcome by the power of the discourse and
   was conscience stricken and terrified, as I thought that these things
   were mentioned by him because the Lord had revealed to the old man my
   bosom secrets; and first I was moved to secret sighs, and then my
   heart's compunction increased and I openly burst into sobs and tears,
   and produced from the folds of my dress which shared my theft and
   received it, the biscuit which I had carried off in my bad habit to eat
   on the sly; and I laid it in the midst and lying on the ground an
   begging for forgiveness confessed how I used to eat one every day in
   secret, and with copious tears implored them to intreat the Lord to
   free me from this dreadful slavery. Then the old man: "Have faith, my
   child," said he, "Without any words of mine, your confession frees you
   from this slavery. For you have today triumphed over your victorious
   adversary, by laying him low by your confession in a manner which more
   than makes up for the way in which you were overthrown by him through
   your former silence, as when, never confuting him with your own answer
   or that of another, you had allowed him to lord it over you, according
   to that saying of Solomon's: Because sentence is not speedily
   pronounced against the evil, the heart of the children of men is full
   within them to do evil:' [1184] and therefore after this exposure of
   him that evil spirit will no longer be able to vex you, nor will that
   foul serpent henceforth make his lurking place in you, as he has been
   dragged out into light from the darkness by your life-giving
   confession." The old man had not finished speaking when lo! a burning
   lamp proceeding from the folds of my dress filled the cell with a
   sulphureous smell so that the pungency of the odour scarcely allowed us
   to stay there: and the old man resuming his admonition said Lo! the
   Lord has visibly confirmed to you the truth of my words, so that you
   can see with your eyes how he who was the author of His Passion has
   been driven out from your heart by your life-giving confession, and
   know that the enemy who has been exposed will certainly no longer find
   a home in you, as his expulsion is made manifest. And so, as the old
   man declared, said he, the sway of that diabolical tyranny over me has
   been destroyed by the power of this confession and stilled for ever so
   that the enemy has never even tried to force upon me any more the
   recollection of this desire, nor have I ever felt myself seized with
   the passion of that furtive longing. And this meaning we see is neatly
   expressed in a figure in Ecclesiastes. "If" says he "a serpent bite
   without hissing there is no sufficiency for the charmer," [1185]
   showing that the bite of a serpent in silence is dangerous, i.e., if a
   suggestion or thought springing from the devil is not by means of
   confession shown to some charmer, I mean some spiritually minded person
   who knows how to heal the wound at once by charms from the Scripture,
   and to extract the deadly poison of the serpent from the heart, it will
   be impossible to help the sufferer who is already in danger and must
   soon die. In this way therefore we shall easily arrive at the knowledge
   of true discretion, so as by following the steps of the Elders never to
   do anything novel nor to decide anything by or on our own
   responsibility, but to walk in all things as we are taught by their
   tradition and upright life. And the man who is strengthened by this
   system will not only arrive at the perfect method of discretion, but
   also will remain perfectly safe from all the wiles of the enemy: for by
   no other fault does the devil drag down a monk so precipitately and
   lead him away to death, as when he persuades him to despise the counsel
   of the Elders and to rely on his own opinion and judgment: for if all
   the arts and contrivances discovered by man's ingenuity and those which
   are only useful for the conveniences of this temporary life, though
   they can be felt with the hand and seen with the eye, can yet not be
   understood by anyone, without lessons from a teacher, how foolish it is
   to fancy that there is no need of an instructor in this one alone which
   is invisible and secret and can only be seen by the purest heart, a
   mistake in which brings about no mere temporary loss or one that can
   easily be repaired, but the destruction of the soul and everlasting
   death: for it is concerned with a daily and nightly conflict against no
   visible foes, but invisible and cruel ones, and a spiritual combat not
   against one or two only, but against countless hosts, failure in which
   is the more dangerous to all, in proportion as the foe is the fiercer
   and the attack the more secret. And therefore we should always follow
   the footsteps of the Elders with the utmost care, and bring to them
   everything which rises in our hearts, by removing the veil of shame.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1183] See the note on Conf. xxi. i.

   [1184] Eccl. vii. 11 (LXX.).

   [1185] Eccl. x. 11 (LXX.).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   A confession of the modesty which made us ashamed to reveal our
   thoughts to the elders.

   Germanus: The ground of that hurtful modesty, through which we
   endeavour to hide bad thoughts, is especially owing to this reason;
   viz., that we have heard of a superior of the Elders in the region of
   Syria, as it was believed, who, when one of the brethren had laid bare
   his thoughts to him in a genuine confession, was afterwards extremely
   indignant and severely chid him for them. Whence it results that while
   we press them upon our selves and are ashamed to make them known to the
   Elders, we cannot obtain the remedies that would heal them.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   The answer concerning the trampling down of shame, and the danger of
   one without contrition.

   Moses: Just as all young men are not alike in fervour of spirit nor
   equally instructed in learning and good morals, so too we cannot find
   that all old men are equally perfect and excellent. For the true riches
   of old men are not to be measured by grey hairs but by their diligence
   in youth and the rewards of their past labours. "For," says one, "the
   things that thou hast not gathered in thy youth, how shalt thou find
   them in thy old age?" "For venerable old age is not that of long time,
   nor counted by the number of years: but the understanding of a man is
   grey hairs, and a spotless life is old age." [1186] And therefore we
   are not to follow in the steps or embrace the traditions and advice of
   every old man whose head is covered with grey hairs, and whose age is
   his sole claim to respect, but only of those whom we find to have
   distinguished themselves in youth in an approved and praiseworthy
   manner, and to have been trained up not on self-assurance but on the
   traditions of the Elders. For there are some, and unhappily they form
   the majority, who pass their old age in a lukewarmness which they
   contracted in youth, and in sloth, and so obtain authority not from the
   ripeness of their character but simply from the number of their years.
   Against whom that reproof of the Lord is specially aimed by the
   prophet: "Strangers have devoured his strength and he knew it not: yea,
   grey hairs also are spread about upon him, and he is ignorant of it."
   [1187] These men, I say, are not pointed out as examples to youth from
   the uprightness of their lives, nor from the strictness of their
   profession, which would be worthy of praise and imitation, but simply
   from the number of their years; and so the subtle enemy uses their grey
   hairs to deceive the younger men, by a wrongful appeal to their
   authority, and endeavours in his cunning craftiness to upset and
   deceive by their example those who might have been urged into the way
   of perfection by their advice or that of others; and drags them down by
   means of their teaching and practice either into a baneful
   indifference, or into deadly despair. And as I want to give you an
   instance of this, I will tell you a fact which may supply us with some
   wholesome teaching, without giving the name of the actor, lest we might
   be guilty of something of the same kind as the man who published abroad
   the sins of the brother which had been disclosed to him. When this one,
   who was not the laziest of young men, had gone to an old man, whom we
   know very well, for the sake of the profit and health of his soul, and
   had candidly confessed that he was troubled by carnal appetites and the
   spirit of fornication, fancying that he would receive from the old
   man's words consolation for his efforts, and a cure for the wounds
   inflicted on him, the old man attacked him with the bitterest
   reproaches, and called him a miserable and disgraceful creature, and
   unworthy of the name of monk, while he could be affected by a sin and
   lust of this character, and instead of helping him so injured him by
   his reproaches that he dismissed him from his cell in a state of
   hopeless despair and deadly despondency. And when he, oppressed with
   such a sorrow, was plunged in deep thought, no longer how to cure his
   passion, but how to gratify his lust, the Abbot Apollos, [1188] the
   most skilful of the Elders, met him, and seeing by his looks and
   gloominess his trouble and the violence of the assault which he was
   secretly revolving in his heart, asked him the reason of this upset;
   and when he could not possibly answer the old man's gentle inquiry, the
   latter perceived more and more clearly that it was not without reason
   that he wanted to hide in silence the cause of a gloom so deep that he
   could not conceal it by his looks, and so began to ask him still more
   earnestly the reasons for his hidden grief. And by this he was forced
   to confess that he was on his way to a village to take a wife, and
   leave the monastery and return to the world, since, as the old man had
   told him, he could not be a monk, if he was unable to control the
   desires of the flesh and to cure his passion. And then the old man
   smoothed him down with kindly consolation, and told him that he himself
   was daily tried by the same pricks of desire and lust, and that
   therefore he ought not to give way to despair, nor be surprised at the
   violence of the attack of which he would get the better not so much by
   zealous efforts, as by the mercy and grace of the Lord; and he begged
   him to put off his intention just for one day, and having implored him
   to return to his cell, went as fast as he could to the monastery of the
   above mentioned old man--and when he had drawn near to him he stretched
   forth his hands and prayed with tears, and said "O Lord, who alone art
   the righteous judge and unseen Physician of secret strength and human
   weakness, turn the assault from the young man upon the old one, that he
   may learn to condescend to the weakness of sufferers, and to sympathize
   even in old age with the frailties of youth." And when he had ended his
   prayer with tears, he sees a filthy Ethiopian standing over against his
   cell and aiming fiery darts at him, with which he was straightway
   wounded, and came out of his cell and ran about hither and thither like
   a lunatic or a drunken man, and going in and out could no longer
   restrain himself in it, but began to hurry off in the same direction in
   which the young man had gone. And when Abbot Apollos saw him like a
   madman driven wild by the furies, he knew that the fiery dart of the
   devil which he had seen, had been fixed in his heart, and had by its
   intolerable heat wrought in him this mental aberration and confusion of
   the understanding; and so he came up to him and asked "Whither are you
   hurrying, or what has made you forget the gravity of years and
   disturbed you in this childish way, and made you hurry about so
   rapidly"?

   And when he owing to his guilty conscience and confused by this
   disgraceful excitement fancied that the lust of his heart was
   discovered, and, as the secrets of his heart were known to the old man,
   did not venture to return any answer to his inquiries, "Return," said
   he, "to your cell, and at last recognize the fact that till now you
   have been ignored or despised by the devil, and not counted in the
   number of those with whom he is daily roused to fight and struggle
   against their efforts and earnestness,--you who could not--I will not
   say ward off, but not even postpone for one day, a single dart of his
   aimed at you after so many years spent in this profession of yours. And
   with this the Lord has suffered you to be wounded that you may at least
   learn in your old age to sympathize with infirmities to which you are a
   stranger, and may know from your own case and experience how to
   condescend to the frailties of the young, though when you received a
   young man troubled by an attack from the devil, you did not encourage
   him with any consolation, but gave him up in dejection and destructive
   despair into the hands of the enemy, to be, as far as you were
   concerned, miserably destroyed by him. But the enemy would certainly
   never have attacked him with so fierce an onslaught, with which he has
   up till now scorned to attack you, unless in his jealousy at the
   progress he was to make, he had endeavoured to get the better of that
   virtue which he saw lay in his disposition, and to destroy it with his
   fiery darts, as he knew without the shadow of a doubt that he was the
   stronger, since he deemed it worth his while to attack him with such
   vehemence. And so learn from your own experience to sympathize with
   those in trouble, and never to terrify with destructive despair those
   who are in danger, nor harden them with severe speeches, but rather
   restore them with gentle and kindly consolations, and as the wise
   Solomon says, "Spare not to deliver those who are led forth to death,
   and to redeem those who are to be slain," [1189] and after the example
   of our Saviour, break not the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking
   flax, [1190] and ask of the Lord that grace, by means of which you
   yourself may faithfully learn both in deed and power to sing: "the Lord
   hath given me a learned tongue that I should know how to uphold by word
   him that is weary:" [1191] for no one could bear the devices of the
   enemy, or extinguish or repress those carnal fires which burn with a
   sort of natural flame, unless God's grace assisted our weakness, or
   protected and supported it. And therefore, as the reason for this
   salutary incident is over, by which the Lord meant to set that young
   man free from dangerous desires and to teach you something of the
   violence of their attack, and of the feeling of compassion, let us
   together implore Him in prayer, that He may be pleased to remove that
   scourge, which the Lord thought good to lay upon you for your good (for
   "He maketh sorry and cureth: he striketh and his hands heal. He
   humbleth and exalteth, he killeth and maketh alive: he bringeth down to
   the grave and bringeth up") [1192] , and may extinguish with the
   abundant dew of His Spirit the fiery darts of the devil, which at my
   desire He allowed to wound you. And although the Lord removed this
   temptation at a single prayer of the old man with the same speed with
   which He had suffered it to come upon him, yet He showed by a clear
   proof that a man's faults when laid bare were not merely not to be
   scolded, but that the grief of one in trouble ought not to be lightly
   despised. And therefore never let the clumsiness or shallowness of one
   old man or of a few deter you and keep you back from that life-giving
   way, of which we spoke earlier, or from the tradition of the Elders, if
   our crafty enemy makes a wrongful use of their grey hairs in order to
   deceive younger men: but without any cloak of shame everything should
   be disclosed to the Elders, and remedies for wounds be faithfully
   received from them together with examples of life and conversation:
   from which we shall find like help and the same sort of result, if we
   try to do nothing at all on our own responsibility and judgment.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1186] Ecclus. xxv. 5; Wisdom iv. 8, 9.

   [1187] Hos. vii. 9.

   [1188] Apollos or Apollonius was a most celebrated hermit of the fourth
   century, who finally became the head of a monastery of five hundred
   brethren in the Thebaid. Some account of him is given by Palladius
   (Hist. Laus. c. lii.) and Rufinus (Hist. Monach. c. vii.). Cf. also
   Sozomen III. xiv.; and VI. xx., whence we learn that his life was
   written by Timothy, Bishop of Alexandria. Cassian relates another story
   of him in XXIV. ix.

   [1189] Prov. xxiv. 11.

   [1190] Cf. S. Matt. xii. 20.

   [1191] Is. l. 4.

   [1192] Job v. 18; 1 Sam. ii. 6, 7.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   Of the call of Samuel.

   Lastly so far has this opinion been shown to be pleasing to God that we
   see that this system not without reason finds a place in holy
   Scripture, so that the Lord would not of Himself instruct by the method
   of a Divine colloquy the lad Samuel, when chosen for judgment, but
   suffered him to run once or twice to the old man, and willed that one
   whom He was calling to converse with Him should be taught even by one
   who had offended God, as he was an old man, and preferred that he whom
   He had deemed worthy to be called by Him should be trained by the Elder
   in order to test the humility of him who was called to a Divine office,
   and to set an example to the younger men by the manner of his
   subjection.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   Of the call of the Apostle Paul.

   And when Christ in His own Person called and addressed Paul, although
   He might have opened out to him at once the way of perfection, yet He
   chose rather to direct him to Ananias and commanded him to learn the
   way of truth from him, saying: "Arise and go into the city and there it
   shall be told thee what thou oughtest to do." [1193] So He sends him to
   an older man, and thinks good to have him instructed by his teaching
   rather than His own, lest what might have been rightly done in the case
   of Paul might set a bad example of self-sufficiency, if each one were
   to persuade himself that he also ought in like manner to be trained by
   the government and teaching of God alone rather than by the instruction
   of the Elders. And this self-sufficiency the apostle himself teaches,
   not only by his letters but by his acts and deeds, ought to be shunned
   with all possible care, as he says that he went up to Jerusalem solely
   for this reason; viz., to communicate in a private and informal
   conference with his co-apostles and those who were before him that
   Gospel which he preached to the Gentiles, the grace of the Holy Spirit
   accompanying him with powerful signs and wonders: as he says "And I
   communicated with them the Gospel which I preach among the Gentiles
   lest perhaps I had run or should run in vain." [1194] Who then is so
   self-sufficient and blind as to dare to trust in his own judgment and
   discretion when the chosen vessel confesses that he had need of
   conference with his fellow apostles. Whence we clearly see that the
   Lord does not Himself show the way of perfection to anyone who having
   the opportunity of learning depises the teaching and training of the
   Elders, paying no heed to that saying which ought most carefully to be
   observed: "Ask thy father and he will show it to thee: thine Elders and
   they will tell thee." [1195]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1193] Acts ix. 6.

   [1194] Gal. ii. 2.

   [1195] Deut. xxxii. 7.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   How to seek for discretion.

   We ought then with all our might to strive for the virtue of discretion
   by the power of humility, as it will keep us uninjured by either
   extreme, for there is an old saying akrotetes isotetes, i.e., extremes
   meet. For excess of fasting and gluttony come to the same thing, and an
   unlimited continuance of vigils is equally injurious to a monk as the
   torpor of a deep sleep: for when a man is weakened by excessive
   abstinence he is sure to return to that condition in which a man is
   kept through carelessness and negligence, so that we have often seen
   those who could not be deceived by gluttony, destroyed by excessive
   fasting and by reason of weakness liable to that passion which they had
   before overcome. Unreasonable vigils and nightly watchings have also
   been the ruin of some whom sleep could not get the better of: wherefore
   as the apostle says "with the arms of righteousness on the right hand
   and on the left," [1196] we pass on with due moderation, and walk
   between the two extremes, under the guidance of discretion, that we may
   not consent to be led away from the path of continence marked out for
   us, nor fall by undue carelessness into the pleasures of the palate and
   belly.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1196] 2 Cor. vi. 7.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   On excessive fasts and vigils.

   For I remember that I had so often resisted the desire for food, that
   having abstained from taking any for two or three days, my mind was not
   troubled even by the recollection of any eatables and also that sleep
   was by the assaults of the devil so far removed from my eyes, that for
   several days and nights I used to pray the Lord to grant a little sleep
   to my eyes; and then I felt that I was in greater peril from the want
   of food and sleep than from struggling against sloth and gluttony. And
   so as we ought to be careful not to fall into dangerous effeminacy
   through desire for bodily gratification, nor indulge ourselves with
   eating before the right time nor take too much, so also we ought to
   refresh ourselves with food and sleep at the proper time even if we
   dislike it. For the struggle in each case is caused by the devices of
   the enemy; and excessive abstinence is still more injurious to us than
   careless satiety: for from this latter the intervention of a healthy
   compunction will raise us to the right measure of strictness, and not
   from the former.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   A question on the right measure of abstinence and refreshment.

   Germanus: What then is the measure of abstinence by keeping which with
   even balance we shall succeed in passing unharmed between the two
   extremes?
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   Of the best plan for our daily food.

   Moses: On this matter we are aware that there have been frequent
   discussions among our Elders. For in discussing the abstinence of some
   who supported their lives continually on nothing but beans or only on
   vegetables and fruits, they proposed to all of them to partake of bread
   alone, the right measure of which they fixed at two biscuits, so small
   that they assuredly scarcely weighed a pound.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   An objection on the ease of that abstinence in which a man is sustained
   by two biscuits.

   And this we gladly embraced, and answered that we should scarcely
   consider this limit as abstinence, as we could not possibly reach it
   entirely.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   The answer concerning the value and measure of well-proved abstinence.

   Moses: If you want to test the force of this rule, keep to this limit
   continually, never departing from it by taking any cooked food even on
   Sunday or Saturday, or on the occasions of the arrival of any of the
   brethren; for the flesh, refreshed by these exceptions, is able not
   only to support itself through the rest of the week on a smaller
   quantity, but can also postpone all refreshment without difficulty, as
   it is sustained by the addition of that food which it has taken beyond
   the limit; while the man who has always been satisfied with the full
   amount of the above-mentioned measure will never be able to do this,
   nor to put off breaking his fast till the morrow. For I remember that
   our Elders (and I recollect that we ourselves also often had the same
   experience) found it so hard and difficult to practise this abstinence,
   and observed the rule laid down with such pain and hunger that it was
   almost against their will and with tears and lamentation that they set
   this limit to their meals.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   What is the usual limit both of abstinence and of partaking food.

   But this is the usual limit of abstinence; viz., for everyone to allow
   himself food according to the requirements of his strength or bodily
   frame or age, in such quantity as is required for the support of the
   flesh, and not for the satisfactory feeling of repletion. For on both
   sides a man will suffer the greatest injury, if having no fixed rule at
   one time he pinches his stomach with meagre food and fasts, and at
   another stuffs it by over-eating himself; for as the mind which is
   enfeebled for lack of food loses vigour in praying, while it is worn
   out with excessive weakness of the flesh and forced to doze, so again
   when weighed down with over-eating it cannot pour forth to God pure and
   free prayers: nor will it succeed in preserving uninterruptedly the
   purity of its chastity, while even on those days on which it seems to
   chastise the flesh with severer abstinence, it feeds the fire of carnal
   desire with the fuel of the food that it has already taken.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIII.

   Quemadmodum abundantia umorum genitalium castigetur. [1197]

   Nam quod semel per escarum abundantian concretus fuerit in medullis,
   necesse est egeri atque ab ipsa naturae lege propelli, quae
   exuberantiam cujuslibet umoris superflui velut noxiam sibi atque
   contrariam in semet ipsa residere non patitur ideoque rationabili
   semper et aequali est corpus nostrum parsimonia castigandum, ut si
   naturali hac necessitate commorantes in carne omnimodis carere non
   possumus, saltim rarius nos et non amplius quamtrina vice ista
   conluvione respersos totius anni cursus inveniat, quod tamen sine ullo
   pruritu quietus egerat sopor, non fallax imago index occultae
   voluptatis eliciat.

   Wherefore this is the moderate and even allowance and measure of
   abstinence, of which we spoke, which has the approval also of the
   judgment of the fathers; viz., that daily hunger should go hand in hand
   with our daily meals, preserving both body and soul in one and the same
   condition, and not allowing the mind either to faint through weariness
   from fasting, nor to be oppressed by over-eating, for it ends in such a
   sparing diet that sometimes a man neither notices nor remembers in the
   evening that he has broken his fast.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1197] It has been thought best to leave the first part of the
   following chapter untranslated.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIV.

   Of the difficulty of uniformity in eating; and of the gluttony of
   brother Benjamin.

   And so far is this not done without difficulty, that those who know
   nothing of perfect discretion would rather prolong their fasts for two
   days, and reserve for tomorrow what they should have eaten today, so
   that when they come to partake of food they may enjoy as much as they
   can desire.  And you know that lastly your fellow citizen Benjamin most
   obstinately stuck to this: as he would not every day partake of his two
   biscuits, nor, continually take his meagre fare with uniform
   self-discipline, but preferred always to continue his fasts for two
   days that when he came to eat he might fill his greedy stomach with a
   double portion, and by eating four biscuits enjoy a comfortable sense
   of repletion, and manage to fill his belly by means of a two days'
   fast. And you doubtless remember what sort of an end there was to the
   life of this man who obstinately and pertinaciously relied on his own
   judgment rather than on the traditions of the Elders, for he forsook
   the desert and returned back to the vain philosophy of this world and
   earthly vanities, and so confirmed the above mentioned opinion of the
   Elders by the example of his downfall, and by his destruction teaches a
   lesson that no one who trusts in his own opinion and judgment can
   possibly climb the heights of perfection, nor fail to be deceived by
   the dangerous wiles of the devil.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXV.

   A question how is it possible always to observe one and the same
   measure.

   Germanus: How then can we observe this measure without ever breaking
   it? for sometimes at the ninth hour when the Station fast [1198] is
   over, brethren come to see us and then we must either for their sakes
   add something to our fixed and customary portion, or certainly fail in
   that courtesy which we are told to show to everybody.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1198] On the Statio see the note on the Institutes V. xx.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVI.

   The answer how we should not exceed the proper measure of food.

   Moses: Both duties must be observed in the same way and with equal
   care: for we ought most scrupulously to preserve the proper allowance
   of food for the sake of our abstinence, and in like manner out of
   charity to show courtesy and encouragement to any of the brethren who
   may arrive; because it is absolutely ridiculous when you offer food to
   a brother, nay, to Christ Himself, not to partake of it with him, but
   to make yourself a stranger to his repast. And so we shall keep clear
   of guilt on either hand if we observe this plan; viz., at the ninth
   hour to partake of one of the two biscuits which form our proper
   canonical allowance, and to keep back the other to the evening, in
   expectation of something like this, that if any of the brethren comes
   to see us we may partake of it with him, and so add nothing to our own
   customary allowance: and by this arrangement the arrival of our brother
   which ought to be a pleasure to us will cause us no inconvenience:
   since we shall show him the civilities which courtesy requires in such
   a way as to relax nothing of the strictness of our abstinence. But if
   no one should come, we may freely take this last biscuit as belonging
   to us according to our canonical rule, and by this frugality of ours as
   a single biscuit was taken at the ninth hour, our stomach will not be
   overloaded at eventide, a thing which is often the case with those who
   under the idea that they are observing a stricter abstinence put off
   all their repast till evening; for the fact that we have but recently
   taken food hinders our intellect from being bright and keen both in our
   evening and in our nocturnal prayers, and so at the ninth hour a
   convenient and suitable time has been allowed for food, in which a monk
   can refresh himself and so find that he is not only fresh and bright
   during his nocturnal vigils, but also perfectly ready for his evening
   prayers, as his food is already digested.

   With such a banquet of two courses, as it were, the holy Moses feasted
   us, showing us not only the grace and power of discretion by his
   present learned speech, but also the method of renunciation and the end
   and aim of the monastic life by the discussion previously held; so as
   to make clearer than daylight what we had hitherto pursued simply with
   fervour of spirit and zeal for God but with closed eyes, and to make us
   feel how far we had up till then wandered from purity of heart and the
   straight line of our course, since the practice of all visible arts
   belonging to this life cannot possibly stand without an understanding
   of their aim, nor can it be taken in hand without a clear view of a
   definite end.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  III. Conference of Abbot Paphnutius.

    On the Three Sorts of Renunciations.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   Of the life and conduct of Abbot Paphnutius.

   In that choir of saints who shine like brilliant stars in the night of
   this world, we have seen the holy Paphnutius, [1199] like some great
   luminary, shining with the brightness of knowledge. For he was a
   presbyter of our company, I mean of those whose abode was in the desert
   of Scete, where he lived to extreme old age, without ever moving from
   his cell, of which he had taken possession when still young, and which
   was five miles from the church, even to nearer districts; nor was he
   when worn out with years hindered by the distance from going to Church
   on Saturday or Sunday. But not wanting to return from thence empty
   handed he would lay on his shoulders a bucket of water to last him all
   the week, and carry it back to his cell, and even when he was past
   ninety would not suffer it to be fetched by the labour of younger men.
   He then from his earliest youth threw himself into the monastic
   discipline with such fervour that when he had spent only a short time
   in it, he was endowed with the virtue of submission, as well as the
   knowledge of all good qualities. For by the practice of humility and
   obedience he mortified all his desires, and by this stamped out all his
   faults and acquired every virtue which the monastic system and the
   teaching of the ancient fathers produces, and, inflamed with desire for
   still further advances, he was eager to penetrate into the recesses of
   the desert, so that, with no human companions to disturb him, he might
   be more readily united to the Lord, to whom he longed to be inseparably
   joined, even while he still lived in the society of the brethren. And
   there once more in his excessive fervour he outstripped the virtues of
   the Anchorites, and in his eager desire for continual divine meditation
   avoided the sight of them: and he plunged into solitary places yet
   wilder and more inaccessible, and hid himself for a long while in them,
   so that, as the Anchorites themselves only with great difficulty caught
   a glimpse of him every now and then, the belief was that he enjoyed and
   delighted in the daily society of angels, and because of this
   remarkable characteristic of his [1200] he was surnamed by them the
   Buffalo.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1199] Paphnutius. The name is not uncommon in the annals of the fourth
   century: (1) A Deacon who bore it suffered in the persecution of
   Diocletian; and (2) a Bishop of the same name, who had been a
   confessor, was mainly instrumental in preventing the rule of celibacy
   being forced on the clergy by the Council of Nicaea; (3) another was a
   prominent member of the Meletian schism; while (4) a fourth was
   present, as Bishop of Sais in Lower Egypt at the Council of Alexandria
   in 362; and (5) the life of a fifth is given by Palladius (Hist. Laus.
   lxii.-lxv.) and Rufinus (Hist. Monach. c. xvi.). The one whom Cassian
   here mentions, surnamed the Buffalo, is apparently a different person
   from the last mentioned. Further details of his history are given in
   the Institutes IV. c. xxx. xxxi., and in Conference X. ii., iii.
   Cassian tells the interesting story of his share in the
   Anthropomorphite controversy, and the beneficial influence which he
   then exercised.

   [1200] i e., his solitariness.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   Of the discourse of the same old man, and our reply to it.

   As then we were anxious to learn from his teaching, we came in some
   agitation to his cell towards evening. And after a short silence he
   began to commend our undertaking, because we had left our homes, and
   had visited so many countries out of love for the Lord, and were
   endeavouring with all our might to endure want and the trials of the
   desert, and to imitate their severe life, which even those who had been
   born and bred in the same state of want and penury, could scarcely put
   up with; and we replied that we had come for his teaching and
   instruction in order that we might be to some extent initiated in the
   customs of so great a man, and in that perfection which we had known
   from many evidences to exist in him, not that we might be honoured by
   any commendations to which we had no right, or be puffed up with any
   elation of mind, (with which we were sometimes exercised in our own
   cells at the suggestion of our enemy) in consequence of any words of
   his. Wherefore we begged him rather to lay before us what would make us
   humble and contrite, and not what would flatter us and puff us up.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   The statement of Abbot Paphnutius on the three kinds of vocations, and
   the three sorts of renunciations.

   Then The Blessed Paphnutius: There are, said he, three kinds of
   vocations. And we know that there are three sorts of renunciations as
   well, which are necessary to a monk, whatever his vocation may be. And
   we ought diligently to examine first the reason for which we said that
   there were three kinds of vocations, that when we are sure that we are
   summoned to God's service in the first stage of our vocation, we may
   take care that our life is in harmony with the exalted height to which
   we are called, for it will be of no use to have made a good beginning
   if we do not show forth an end corresponding to it. But if we feel that
   only in the last resort have we been dragged away from a worldly life,
   then, as it appears that we rest on a less satisfactory beginning as
   regards religion, so must we proportionately make the more earnest
   endeavours to rouse ourselves with spiritual fervour to make a better
   end. It is well too on every ground for us to know secondly the manner
   of the threefold renunciations because we shall never be able to attain
   perfection, if we are ignorant of it or if we know it, but do not
   attempt to carry it out in act.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   An explanation of the three callings.

   To make clear therefore the main differences between these three kinds
   of calling, the first is from God, the second comes through man, the
   third is from compulsion. And a calling is from God whenever some
   inspiration has taken possession of our heart, and even while we are
   asleep stirs in us at desire for eternal life and salvation, and bids
   us follow God and cleave to His commandments with life-giving
   contrition: as we read in Holy Scripture that Abraham was called by the
   voice of the Lord from his native country, and all his dear relations,
   and his father's house; when the Lord said "Get thee out from thy
   country and from thy kinsfolk and from thy father's house." [1201] And
   in this way we have heard that the blessed Antony also was called,
   [1202] the occasion of whose conversion was received from God alone.
   For on entering a church he there heard in the Gospel the Lord saying:
   "Whoever hateth not father and mother and children and wife and lands,
   yea and his own soul also, cannot be my disciple;" and "if thou wilt be
   perfect, go sell all that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou
   shalt have treasure in heaven, and come, follow me:" [1203] And with
   heartfelt contrition he took this charge of the Lord as if specially
   aimed at him, and at once gave up everything and followed Christ,
   without any incitement thereto from the advice and teaching of men. The
   second kind of calling is that which we said took place through man;
   viz., when we are stirred up by the example of some of the saints, and
   their advice, and thus inflamed with the desire of salvation: and by
   this we never forget that by the grace of the Lord we ourselves were
   summoned, as we were aroused by the advice and good example of the
   above-mentioned saint, to give ourselves up to this aim and calling;
   and in this way also we find in Holy Scripture that it was through
   Moses that the children of Israel were delivered from the Egyptian
   bondage. But the third kind of calling is that which comes from
   compulsion, when we have been involved in the riches and pleasures of
   this life, and temptations suddenly come upon us and either threaten us
   with peril of death, or smite us with the loss and confiscation of our
   goods, or strike us down with the death of those dear to us, and thus
   at length even against our will we are driven to turn to God whom we
   scorned to follow in the days of our wealth. And of this compulsory
   call we often find instances in Scripture, when we read that on account
   of their sins the children of Israel were given up by the Lord to their
   enemies; and that on account of their tyranny and savage cruelty they
   turned again, and cried to the Lord. And it says: "The Lord sent them a
   Saviour, called Ehud, the son of Gera, the son of Jemini, who used the
   left hand as well as the right:" and again we are told, "they cried
   unto the Lord, who raised them up a Saviour and delivered them, to wit,
   Othniel, the son of Kenaz, Caleb's younger brother." [1204] And it is
   of such that the Psalm speaks: "When He slew them, then they sought
   Him: and they returned and came to Him early in the morning: and they
   remembered that God was their helper, and the most High God their
   redeemer." And again: "And they cried unto the Lord when they were
   troubled, and He delivered them out of their distress." [1205]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1201] Gen. xii. 1.

   [1202] The story, to which allusion is here made, is given in the Vita
   Antonii of Athanasius. We are there told that six months after the
   death of his parents Antony, then a young man of eighteen, chanced to
   enter a church just as the gospel for the day was being read: and
   hearing the words, "If thou wilt be perfect," etc., he took them as
   addressed specially to himself, and at once proceeded to act upon them,
   selling all that he had except a small portion which he reserved for
   his sister's maintenance. Shortly after, he was struck by the words,
   "Take no thought for the morrow," which he heard in church, and acting
   upon this, made away with the little property which was left, committed
   his sister to the care of certain faithful virgins, and betook himself
   to the ascetic life.

   [1203] S. Luke xiv. 12; S. Matt. xix. 21.

   [1204] Judg. iii. 15, 9.

   [1205] Ps. lxxvii. (lxxviii.) 34, 35; cvi. (cvii.) 19.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   How the first of these calls is of no use to a sluggard, and the last
   is no hindrance to one who is in earnest.

   Of these three calls then, although the two former may seem to rest on
   better principles, yet sometimes we find that even by the third grade,
   which seems the lowest and the coldest, men have been made perfect and
   most earnest in spirit, and have become like those who made an
   admirable beginning in approaching the Lord's service, and passed the
   rest of their lives also in most laudable fervour of spirit: and again
   we find that from the higher grade very many have grown cold, and often
   have come to a miserable end. And just as it was no hindrance to the
   former class that they seemed to be converted not of their own free
   will, but by force and compulsion, in as much as the loving kindness of
   the Lord secured for them the opportunity for repentance, so too to the
   latter it was of no avail that the early days of their conversion were
   so bright, because they were not careful to bring the remainder of
   their life to a suitable end. For in the case of Abbot Moses, [1206]
   who lived in a spot in the wilderness called Calamus, [1207] nothing
   was wanting to his merits and perfect bliss, in consequence of the fact
   that he was driven to flee to the monastery through fear of death,
   which was hanging over him because of a murder; for he made such use of
   his compulsory conversion that with ready zeal he turned it into a
   voluntary one and climbed the topmost heights of perfection. As also on
   the other hand; to very many, whose names I ought not to mention, it
   has been of no avail that they entered on the Lord's service with
   better beginning than this, as afterwards sloth and hardness of heart
   crept over them, and they fell into a dangerous state of torpor, and
   the bottomless pit of death, an instance of which we see clearly
   indicated in the call of the Apostles. For of what good was it to Judas
   that he had of his own free will embraced the highest grade of the
   Apostolate in the same way in which Peter and the rest of the Apostles
   had been summoned, as he allowed the splendid beginning of his call to
   terminate in a ruinous end of cupidity and covetousness, and as a cruel
   murderer even rushed into the betrayal of the Lord? Or what hindrance
   was it to Paul that he was suddenly blinded, and seemed to be drawn
   against his will into the way of salvation, as afterwards he followed
   the Lord with complete fervour of soul, and having begun by compulsion
   completed it by a free and voluntary devotion, and terminated with a
   magnificent end a life that was rendered glorious by such great deeds?
   Everything therefore depends upon the end; in which one who was
   consecrated by a noble conversion at the outset may through
   carelessness turn out a failure, and one who was compelled by necessity
   to adopt the monastic life may through fear of God and earnestness be
   made perfect.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1206] Moses. This Abbot is possibly a different person from the author
   of the first two Conferences, who had in his youth been a pupil of
   Antony; whereas the one here mentioned only took the monastic life out
   of fear of death on a charge of murder. He is mentioned again in
   Conferences VII. xxvi., XIX. xi., and some account of him is given in
   Sozomen H.E. VI. xxix.

   [1207] Calamus, mentioned again in the Institutes X. xxiv. (where see
   note), and cf. Conf. VII. xxvi.; XXIV. iv.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   An account of the three sorts of renunciations.

   We must now speak of the renunciations, of which tradition and the
   authority of Holy Scripture show us three, and which every one of us
   ought with the utmost zeal to make complete. The first is that by which
   as far as the body is concerned we make light of all the wealth and
   goods of this world; the second, that by which we reject the fashions
   and vices and former affections of soul and flesh; the third, that by
   which we detach our soul from all present and visible things, and
   contemplate only things to come, and set our heart on what is
   invisible. And we read that the Lord charged Abraham to do all these
   three at once, when He said to him "Get thee out from thy country, and
   thy kinsfolk, and thy father's house." [1208] First He said "from thy
   country," i.e., from the goods of this world, and earthly riches:
   secondly, "from thy kinsfolk," i.e., from this former life and habits
   and sins, which cling to us from our very birth and are joined to us as
   it were by ties of affinity and kinship: thirdly, "from thy father's
   house," i.e., from all the recollection of this world, which the sight
   of the eyes can afford. For of the two fathers, i.e., of the one who is
   to be forsaken, and of the one who is to be sought, David thus speaks
   in the person of God: "Hearken, O daughter, and consider, and incline
   thine ear: forget also thine own people and thy father's house:" [1209]
   for the person who says "Hearken, O daughter," is certainly a Father;
   and yet he bears witness that the one, whose house and people he urges
   should be forgotten, is none the less father of his daughter. And this
   happens when being dead with Christ to the rudiments of this world, we
   no longer, as the Apostle says, regard "the things which are seen, but
   those which are not seen, for the things which are not seen are
   eternal," [1210] and going forth in heart from this temporal and
   visible home, turn our eyes and heart towards that in which we are to
   remain for ever. And this we shall succeed in doing when, while we walk
   in the flesh, we are no longer at war with the Lord according to the
   flesh, proclaiming in deed and actions the truth of that saying of the
   blessed Apostle "Our conversation is in heaven." [1211] To these three
   sorts of renunciations the three books of Solomon suitably correspond.
   For Proverbs answers to the first renunciation, as in it the desires
   for carnal things and earthly sins are repressed; to the second
   Ecclesiastes corresponds, as there everything which is done under the
   sun is declared to be vanity; to the third the Song of Songs, in which
   the soul soaring above all things visible, is actually joined to the
   word of God by the contemplation of heavenly things.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1208] Gen. xii. 1.

   [1209] Ps. xliv. (xlv.) 11.

   [1210] 2 Cor. iv. 18.

   [1211] Phil. iii. 20.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   How we can attain perfection in each of these sorts of renunciations.

   Wherefore it will not be of much advantage to us that we have made our
   first renunciation with the utmost devotion and faith, if we do not
   complete the second with the same zeal and ardour. And so when we have
   succeeded in this, we shall be able to arrive at the third as well, in
   which we go forth from the house of our former parent, (who, as we know
   well, was our father from our very birth, after the old man, when we
   were "by nature children of wrath, as others also," [1212] ) and fix
   our whole mental gaze on things celestial. And of this father Scripture
   says to Jerusalem which had despised God the true Father, "Thy father
   was an Amorite, and thy mother a Hittite;" [1213] and in the gospel we
   read "Ye are of your father the devil and the lusts of your father ye
   love to do." [1214] And when we have left him, as we pass from things
   visible to things unseen we shall be able to say with the Apostle: "But
   we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle is dissolved we
   have a habitation from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the
   heavens," [1215] and this also, which we quoted a little while ago:
   "But our conversation is in heaven, whence also we look for the
   Saviour, the Lord Jesus, who will reform the body of our low estate
   made like to the body of His glory," [1216] and this of the blessed
   David: "For I am a sojourner upon the earth," and "a stranger as all my
   fathers were;" [1217] so that we may in accordance with the Lord's word
   be made like those of whom the Lord speaks to His Father in the gospel
   as follows: "They are not of the world, as I am not of the world,"
   [1218] and again to the Apostles themselves: "If ye were of this world,
   the world would love its own: but because ye are not of this world,
   therefore the world hateth you." [1219] Of this third renunciation then
   we shall succeed in reaching the perfection, whenever our soul is
   sullied by no stain of carnal coarseness, but, all such having been
   carefully eliminated, it has been freed from every earthly quality and
   desire, and by constant meditation on things Divine, and spiritual
   contemplation has so far passed on to things unseen, that in its
   earnest seeking after things above and things spiritual it no longer
   feels that it is prisoned in this fragile flesh, and bodily form, but
   is caught up into such an ecstasy as not only to hear no words with the
   outward ear, or to busy itself with gazing on the forms of things
   present, but not even to see things close at hand, or large objects
   straight before the very eyes. And of this no one can understand the
   truth and force, except one who has made trial of what has been said,
   under the teaching of experience; viz., one, the eyes of whose soul the
   Lord has turned away from all things present, so that he no longer
   considers them as things that will soon pass away, but as things that
   are already done with, and sees them vanish into nothing, like misty
   smoke; and like Enoch, "walking with God," and "translated" from human
   life and fashions, not "be found" amid the vanities of this life. And
   that this actually happened corporeally in the case of Enoch the book
   of Genesis thus tells us. "And Enoch walked with God, and was not
   found, for God translated him." And the Apostle also says: "By faith
   Enoch was translated that he should not see death," the death namely of
   which the Lord says in the gospel: "He that liveth and believeth in me
   shall not die eternally." [1220] Wherefore, if we are anxious to attain
   true perfection, we ought to look to it that as we have outwardly with
   the body made light of parents, home, the riches and pleasures of the
   world, we may also inwardly with the heart forsake all these things and
   never be drawn back by any desires to those things which we have
   forsaken, as those who were led up by Moses, though they did not
   literally go back, are yet said to have returned in heart to Egypt;
   viz., by forsaking God who had led them forth with such mighty signs,
   and by worshipping the idols of Egypt of which they had thought scorn,
   as Scripture says: "And in their hearts they turned back into Egypt,
   saying to Aaron: Make us gods to go before us," [1221] for we should
   fall into like condemnation with those who, while dwelling in the
   wilderness, after they had tasted manna from heaven, lusted after the
   filthy food of sins, and of mean baseness, and should seem together
   with them to murmur in the same way: "It was well with us in Egypt,
   when we sat over the flesh pots and ate the onions, and garlic, and
   cucumbers, and melons:" [1222] A form of speech, which, although it
   referred primarily to that people, we yet see fulfilled today in our
   own case and mode of life: for everyone who after renouncing this world
   turns back to his old desires, and reverts to his former likings
   asserts in heart and act the very same thing that they did, and says
   "It was well with me in Egypt," and I am afraid that the number of
   these will be as large as that of the multitudes of backsliders of whom
   we read under Moses, for though they were reckoned as six hundred and
   three thousand armed men who came out of Egypt, of this number not more
   than two entered the land of promise. Wherefore we should be careful to
   take examples of goodness from those who are few and far between,
   because according to that figure of which we have spoken in the gospel
   "Many are called but few" are said to be "chosen." [1223] A
   renunciation then in body alone, and a mere change of place from Egypt
   will not do us any good, if we do not succeed in achieving that
   renunciation in heart, which is far higher and more valuable. For of
   that mere bodily renunciation of which we have spoken the apostle
   declares as follows: "Though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor,
   and give my body to be burned, but have not charity, it profiteth me
   nothing." [1224] And the blessed Apostle would never have said this had
   it not been that he foresaw by the spirit that some who had given all
   their goods to feed the poor would not be able to attain to evangelical
   perfection and the lofty heights of charity, because while pride or
   impatience ruled over their hearts they were not careful to purify
   themselves from their former sins, and unrestrained habits, and on that
   account could never attain to that love of God which never faileth, and
   these, as they fall short in this second stage of renunciation, can
   still less reach that third stage which is most certainly far higher.
   But consider too in your minds with great care the fact that he did not
   simply say "If I bestow my goods." For it might perhaps be thought that
   he spoke of one who had not fulfilled the command of the gospel, but
   had kept back something for himself, as some half-hearted persons do.
   But he says "Though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor," i.e., even
   if my renunciation of those earthly riches be perfect. And to this
   renunciation he adds something still greater: "And though I give my
   body to be burned, but have not charity, I am nothing:" As if he had
   said in other words, though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor in
   accordance with that command in the gospel, where we are told "If thou
   wilt be perfect, go sell all that thou hast, and give to the poor, and
   thou shalt have treasure in heaven," [1225] renouncing them so as to
   keep back nothing at all for myself, and though to this distribution
   (of my goods) I should by the burning of my flesh add martyrdom so as
   to give up my body for Christ, and yet be impatient, or passionate or
   envious or proud, or excited by wrongs done by others, or seek what is
   mine, or indulge in evil thoughts, or not be ready and patient in
   bearing all that can be inflicted on me, this renunciation and the
   burning of the outer man will profit me nothing, while the inner man is
   still involved in the former sins, because, while in the fervour of the
   early days of my conversion I made light of the mere worldly substance,
   which is said to be not good or evil in itself but indifferent, I took
   no care to cast out in like manner the injurious powers of a bad heart,
   or to attain to that love of the Lord which is patient, which is "kind,
   which envieth not, is not puffed up, is not soon angry, dealeth not
   perversely, seeketh not her own, thinketh no evil," which "beareth all
   things, endureth all things," [1226] and which lastly never suffers him
   who follows after it to fall by the deceitfulness of sin.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1212] Eph. ii. 3.

   [1213] Ezek. xvi. 3.

   [1214] S. John viii. 44.

   [1215] 2 Cor. v. 1.

   [1216] Phil. iii. 20, 21.

   [1217] Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 19; Ps. xxxviii. (xxxix.) 13.

   [1218] S. John xvii. 16.

   [1219] S. John xv. 19.

   [1220] Gen. v. 24 (LXX.); Heb. xi. 5; S. John xi. 26.

   [1221] Acts vii. 39, 40.

   [1222] Numb. xi. 18; Exod. xvi. 3; Numb. xi. 5.

   [1223] S. Matt. xxii. 14.

   [1224] 1 Cor. xiii. 3.

   [1225] S. Matt. xix. 21.

   [1226] 1 Cor. xiii. 4-7.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Of our very own possessions in which the beauty of the soul is seen or
   its foulness.

   We ought then to take the utmost care that our inner man as well may
   cast off and make away with all those possessions of its sins, which it
   acquired in its former life: which as they continually cling to body
   and soul are our very own, and, unless we reject them and cut them off
   while we are still in the flesh, will not cease to accompany us after
   death. For as good qualities, or charity itself which is their source,
   may be gained in this world, and after the close of this life make the
   man who loves it lovely and glorious, so our faults transmit to that
   eternal remembrance a mind darkened and stained with foul colours. For
   the beauty or ugliness of the soul is the product of its virtues or its
   vices, the colour it takes from which either makes it so glorious, that
   it may well hear from the prophet "And the king shall have pleasure in
   thy beauty," [1227] or so black, and foul, and ugly, that it must
   surely acknowledge the stench of its shame, and say "My wounds stink
   and are corrupt because of my foolishness," [1228] and the Lord Himself
   says to it "Why is not the wound of the daughter of my people closed?"
   [1229] And therefore these are our very own possessions, which
   continually remain with the soul, which no king and no enemy can either
   give or take away from us. These are our very own possessions which not
   even death itself can part from the soul, but by renouncing which we
   can attain to perfection, and by clinging to which we shall suffer the
   punishment of eternal death.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1227] Ps. xliv. (xlv.) 12.

   [1228] Ps. xxxvii. (xxxviii.) 6.

   [1229] Jer. viii. 22.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   Of three sorts of possessions.

   Riches and possessions are taken in Holy Scripture in three different
   ways, i.e., as good, bad, and indifferent. Those are bad, of which it
   is said: "The rich have wanted and have suffered hunger," [1230] and
   "Woe unto you that are rich, for ye have received your consolation:"
   [1231] and to have cast off these riches is the height of perfection;
   and a distinction which belongs to those poor who are commended in the
   gospel by the Lord's saying: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for
   theirs is the kingdom of heaven;" [1232] and in the Psalm: "This poor
   man cried, and the Lord heard him," [1233] and again: "The poor and
   needy shall praise thy name." [1234] Those riches are good, to acquire
   which is the work of great virtue and merit, and the righteous
   possessor of which is praised by David who says "The generation of the
   righteous shall be blessed: glory and riches are in his house, and his
   righteousness remaineth for ever:" [1235] and again "the ransom of a
   man's life are his riches." [1236] And of these riches it is said in
   the Apocalypse to him who has them not and to his shame is poor and
   naked: "I will begin," says he, "to vomit thee out of my mouth. Because
   thou sayest I am rich and wealthy and have need of nothing: and knowest
   not that thou art wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked,
   I counsel thee to buy of me gold fire-tried, that thou mayest be made
   rich, and mayest be clothed in white garments, and that the shame of
   thy nakedness may not appear." [1237] There are some also which are
   indifferent, i.e., which may be made either good or bad: for they are
   made either one or the other in accordance with the will and character
   of those who use them: of which the blessed, Apostle says "Charge the
   rich of this world not to be high-minded nor to trust in the
   uncertainty of riches, but in God (who giveth us abundantly all things
   to enjoy), to do good, to give easily, to communicate to others, to lay
   up in store for themselves a good foundation that they may lay hold on
   the true life." [1238] These are what the rich man in the gospel kept,
   and never distributed to the poor,--while the beggar Lazarus was lying
   at his gate and desiring to be fed with his crumbs; and so he was
   condemned to the unbearable flames and everlasting heat of hell-fire.
   [1239]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1230] Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 11.

   [1231] S. Luke vi. 24.

   [1232] S. Matt. v. 3.

   [1233] Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 7.

   [1234] Ps. lxxiii. (lxxiv.) 21.

   [1235] Ps. cxi. (cxii.) 2, 3.

   [1236] Prov. xiii. 8.

   [1237] Rev. iii. 16-18.

   [1238] 1 Tim. vi. 17-19.

   [1239] Cf. S. Luke xiv. 19 sq.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   That none can become perfect merely through the first grade of
   renunciation.

   In leaving then these visible goods of the world we forsake not our own
   wealth, but that which is not ours, although we boast of it as either
   gained by our own exertions or inherited by us from our forefathers.
   For as I said nothing is our own, save this only which we possess with
   our heart, and which cleaves to our soul, and therefore cannot be taken
   away from us by any one. But Christ speaks in terms of censure of those
   visible riches, to those who clutch them as if they were their own, and
   refuse to share them with those in want. "If ye have not been faithful
   in what is another's, who will give to you what is your own?" [1240]
   Plainly then it is not only daily experience which teaches us that
   these riches are not our own, but this saying of our Lord also, by the
   very title which it gives them. But concerning visible [1241] and
   worthless riches Peter says to the Lord: "Lo, we have left all and
   followed thee. What shall we have therefore?" [1242] when it is clear
   that they had left nothing but their miserable broken nets. And unless
   this expression "all" is understood to refer to that renunciation of
   sins which is really great and important, we shall not find that the
   Apostles had left anything of any value, or that the Lord had any
   reason for bestowing on them the blessing of so great glory, that they
   were allowed to hear from Him that "in the regeneration, when the Son
   of Man shall sit on the throne of His glory, ye also shall sit upon
   twelve thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel." [1243] If then
   those, who have completely renounced their earthly and visible goods,
   cannot for sufficient reason attain to Apostolic charity, nor climb
   with readiness and vigour to that third stage of renunciation which is
   still higher and belongs to but few, what should those think of
   themselves, who do not even make that first step (which is very easy) a
   thorough one, but keep together with their old want of faith, their
   former sordid riches, and fancy that they can boast of the mere name of
   monks? The first renunciation then of which we spoke is of what is not
   our own, and therefore is not enough of itself to confer perfection on
   the renunciant, unless he advances to the second, which is really and
   truly a renunciation of what belongs to us. And when we have made sure
   of this by the expulsion of all our faults, we shall mount to the
   heights of the third renunciation also, whereby we rise above not
   merely all those things which are done in this world or specially
   belong to men, but even that whole universe around us which is esteemed
   so glorious, and shall with heart and soul look down upon it as subject
   to vanity and destined soon to pass away; as we look, as the Apostle
   says, "not on those things which are seen, but on those which are not
   seen: for the things that are seen, are temporal, and the things which
   are not seen are eternal;" [1244] that so we may be found worthy to
   hear that highest utterance, which was spoken to Abraham: "and come
   into a land which I will show thee," [1245] which clearly shows that
   unless a man has made those three former renunciations with all
   earnestness of mind, he cannot attain to this fourth, which is granted
   as a reward and privilege to one whose renunciation is perfect, that he
   may be found worthy to enter the land of promise which no longer bears
   for him the thorns and thistles of sins; which after all the passions
   have been driven out is acquired by purity of heart even in the body,
   and which no good deeds or exertions of man's efforts (can gain), but
   which the Lord Himself promises to show, saying "And come into the land
   which I will show to thee:" which clearly proves that the beginning of
   our salvation results from the call of the Lord, Who says "Get thee out
   from thy country," and that the completion of perfection and purity is
   His gift in the same way, as He says "And come into the land which I
   will show thee," i.e., not one you yourself can know or discover by
   your own efforts, but one which I will show not only to one who is
   ignorant of it, but even to one who is not looking for it. And from
   this we clearly gather that as we hasten to the way of salvation
   through being stirred up by the inspiration of the Lord, so too it is
   under the guidance of His direction and illumination that we attain to
   the perfection of the highest bliss.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1240] S. Luke xvi. 12.

   [1241] The mss. vary between visibilibus and invisibilibus.

   [1242] S. Matt. xix. 27.

   [1243] Ib. ver. 28.

   [1244] 2 Cor. iv. 18.

   [1245] Gen. xii. 1.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   A question on the free will of man and the grace of God.

   Germanus: Where then is there room for free will, and how is it
   ascribed to our efforts that we are worthy of praise, if God both
   begins and ends everything in us which concerns our salvation?
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   The answer on the economy of Divine Grace, with free will still
   remaining in us.

   Paphnutius: This would fairly influence us, if in every work and
   practice, the beginning and the end were everything, and there were no
   middle in between. And so as we know that God creates opportunities of
   salvation in various ways, it is in our power to make use of the
   opportunities granted to us by heaven more or less earnestly. For just
   as the offer came from God Who called him "get thee out of thy
   country," so the obedience was on the part of Abraham who went forth;
   and as the fact that the saying "Come into the land" was carried into
   action, was the work of him who obeyed, so the addition of the words
   "which I will show thee" came from the grace of God Who commanded or
   promised it. But it is well for us to be sure that although we practise
   every virtue with unceasing efforts, yet with all our exertions and
   zeal we can never arrive at perfection, nor is mere human diligence and
   toil of itself sufficient to deserve to reach the splendid reward of
   bliss, unless we have secured it by means of the co-operation of the
   Lord, and His directing our heart to what is right. And so we ought
   every moment to pray and say with David "Order my steps in thy paths
   that my footsteps slip not:" [1246] and "He hath set my feet upon a
   rock and ordered my goings:" [1247] that He Who is the unseen ruler of
   the human heart may vouchsafe to turn to the desire of virtue that will
   of ours, which is more readily inclined to vice either through want of
   knowledge of what is good, or through the delights of passion. And we
   read this in a verse in which the prophet sings very plainly: "Being
   pushed I was overturned that I might fall," where the weakness of our
   free will is shown. And "the Lord sustained me:" [1248] again this
   shows that the Lord's help is always joined to it, and by this, that we
   may not be altogether destroyed by our free will, when He sees that we
   have stumbled, He sustains and supports us, as it were by stretching
   out His hand. And again: "If I said my foot was moved;" viz., from the
   slippery character of the will, "Thy mercy, O Lord, helped me." [1249]
   Once more he joins on the help of God to his own weakness, as he
   confesses that it was not owing to his own efforts but to the mercy of
   God, that the foot of his faith was not moved. And again: "According to
   the multitude of the sorrows which I had in my heart," which sprang
   most certainly from my free will, "Thy comforts have refreshed my
   soul," [1250] i.e., by coming through Thy inspiration into my heart,
   and laying open the view of future blessings which Thou hast prepared
   for them who labour in Thy name, they not only removed all anxiety from
   my heart, but actually conferred upon it the greatest delight. And
   again: "Had it not been that the Lord helped me, my soul had almost
   dwelt in hell." [1251] He certainly shows that through the depravity of
   this free will he would have dwelt in hell, had he not been saved by
   the assistance and protection of the Lord. For "By the Lord," and not
   by free-will, "are a man's steps directed," and "although the righteous
   fall" at least by free will, "he shall not be cast away." And why?
   because "the Lord upholdeth him with His hand:" [1252] and this is to
   say with the utmost clearness: None of the righteous are sufficient of
   themselves to acquire righteousness, unless every moment when they
   stumble and fall the Divine mercy supports them with His hands, that
   they may not utterly collapse and perish, when they have been cast down
   through the weakness of free will.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1246] Ps. xvi. (xvii.) 5.

   [1247] Ps. xxxix. (xl.) 3.

   [1248] Ps. cxvii. (cxviii.) 13.

   [1249] Ps. xciii. (xciv.) 18.

   [1250] Ib. ver. 19.

   [1251] Ib. ver. 17.

   [1252] Ps. xxxvi. (xxxvii.) 23, 24.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   That the ordering of our way comes from God.

   And truly the saints have never said that it was by their own efforts
   that they secured the direction of the way in which they walked in
   their course towards advance and perfection of virtue, but rather they
   prayed for it from the Lord, saying "Direct me in Thy truth," and
   "direct my way in thy sight." [1253] But someone else declares that he
   discovered this very fact not only by faith, but also by experience,
   and as it were from the very nature of things: "I know, O Lord, that
   the way of man is not his: neither is it in a man to walk and to direct
   his steps." [1254] And the Lord Himself says to Israel: "I will direct
   him like a green fir-tree: from Me is thy fruit found." [1255]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1253] Ps. xxiv. (xxv.) 5; vi. 9.

   [1254] Jer. x. 23.

   [1255] Hos. xiv. 9.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   That knowledge of the law is given by the guidance and illumination of
   the Lord.

   The knowledge also of the law itself they daily endeavour to gain not
   by diligence in reading, but by the guidance and illumination of God as
   they say to Him: "Show me Thy ways, O Lord, and teach me Thy paths:"
   and "open Thou mine eyes: and I shall see the wondrous things of Thy
   law:" and "teach me to do Thy will, for Thou art my God;" and again:
   "Who teacheth man knowledge." [1256]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1256] Ps. xxiv. (xxv.) 4; cxviii. (cxix.) 18; cxlii. (cxliii.) 10;
   xciii. (xciv.) 10.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   That the understanding, by means of which we can recognize God's
   commands, and the performance of a good will are both gifts from the
   Lord.

   Further the blessed David asks of the Lord that he may gain that very
   understanding, by which he can recognize God's commands which, he well
   knew, were written in the book of the law, and he says "I am Thy
   servant: O give me understanding that I may learn Thy commandments."
   [1257] Certainly he was in possession of understanding, which had been
   granted to him by nature, and also had at his fingers' ends a knowledge
   of God's commands which were preserved in writing in the law: and still
   he prayed the Lord that he might learn this more thoroughly as he knew
   that what came to him by nature would never be sufficient for him,
   unless his understanding was enlightened by the Lord by a daily
   illumination from Him, to understand the law spiritually and to
   recognize His commands more clearly, as the "chosen vessel" also
   declares very plainly this which we are insisting on. "For it is God
   which worketh in you both to will and to do according to good will."
   [1258] What could well be clearer than the assertion that both our good
   will and the completion of our work are fully wrought in us by the
   Lord? And again "For it is granted to you for Christ's sake, not only
   to believe in Him but also to suffer for Him." [1259] Here also he
   declares that the beginning of our conversion and faith, and the
   endurance of suffering is a gift to us from the Lord. And David too, as
   he knows this, similarly prays that the same thing may be granted to
   him by God's mercy. "Strengthen, O God, that which Thou hast wrought in
   us:" [1260] showing that it is not enough for the beginning of our
   salvation to be granted by the gift and grace of God, unless it has
   been continued and ended by the same pity and continual help from Him.
   For not free will but the Lord "looseth them that are bound." No
   strength of ours, but the Lord "raiseth them that are fallen:" no
   diligence in reading, but "the Lord enlightens the blind:" where the
   Greeks have kurios sophoi tuphlous, i.e., "the Lord maketh wise the
   blind:" no care on our part, but "the Lord careth for the stranger:" no
   courage of ours, but "the Lord assists (or supports) all those who are
   down." [1261] But this we say, not to slight our zeal and efforts and
   diligence, as if they were applied unnecessarily and foolishly, but
   that we may know that we cannot strive without the help of God, nor can
   our efforts be of any use in securing the great reward of purity,
   unless it has been granted to us by the assistance and mercy of the
   Lord: for "a horse is prepared for the day of battle: but help cometh
   from the Lord," [1262] "for no man can prevail by strength." [1263] We
   ought then always to sing with the blessed David: "My strength and my
   praise is" not my free will, but "the Lord, and He is become my
   salvation." [1264] And the teacher of the Gentiles was not ignorant of
   this when he declared that he was made capable of the ministry of the
   New Testament not by his own merits or efforts but by the mercy of God.
   "Not" says he, "that we are capable of thinking anything of ourselves
   as of ourselves, but our sufficiency is of God, which can be put in
   less good Latin but more forcibly, "our capability is of God," and then
   there follows: "Who also made us capable ministers of the New
   Testament." [1265]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1257] Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 125.

   [1258] Phil. ii. 13.

   [1259] Phil. i. 29.

   [1260] Ps. lxvii. (lxviii.) 29.

   [1261] Ps. cxlv. (cxlvi.) 7, 8, 9; cxliv. (cxlv.) 16.

   [1262] Prov. xxi. 31.

   [1263] 1 Sam. ii. 9.

   [1264] Ps. cxvii. (cxviii.) 14.

   [1265] 2 Cor. iii. 5, 6.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   That faith itself must be given us by the Lord.

   But so thoroughly did the Apostles realize that everything which
   concerns salvation was given them by the Lord, that they even asked
   that faith itself should be granted from the Lord, saying: "Add to us
   faith" [1266] as they did not imagine that it could be gained by free
   will, but believed that it would be bestowed by the free gift of God.
   Lastly the Author of man's salvation teaches us how feeble and weak and
   insufficient our faith would be unless it were strengthened by the aid
   of the Lord, when He says to Peter "Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath
   desired to have you that he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed to
   my Father that thy faith fail not." [1267] And another finding that
   this was happening in his own case, and seeing that his faith was being
   driven by the waves of unbelief on the rocks which would cause a
   fearful shipwreck, asks of the same Lord an aid to his faith, saying
   "Lord, help mine unbelief." [1268] So thoroughly then did those
   Apostles and men in the gospel realize that everything which is good is
   brought to perfection by the aid of the Lord, and not imagine that they
   could preserve their faith unharmed by their own strength or free will
   that they prayed that it might be helped or granted to them by the
   Lord. And if in Peter's case there was need of the Lord's help that it
   might not fail, who will be so presumptuous and blind as to fancy that
   he has no need of daily assistance from the Lord in order to preserve
   it? Especially as the Lord Himself has made this clear in the gospel,
   saying: "As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself except it abide in
   the vine, so no more can ye, except ye abide in me." [1269] And again:
   "for without me ye can do nothing." [1270] How foolish and wicked then
   it is to attribute any good action to our own diligence and not to
   God's grace and assistance, is clearly shown by the Lord's saying,
   which lays down that no one can show forth the fruits of the Spirit
   without His inspiration and co-operation. For "every good gift and
   every perfect boon is from above, coming down from the Father of
   lights." [1271] And Zechariah too says, "For whatever is good is His,
   and what is excellent is from Him." [1272] And so the blessed Apostle
   consistently says: "What hast thou which thou didst not receive? But if
   thou didst receive it, why boastest thou as if thou hadst not received
   it?" [1273]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1266] S. Luke xvii. 5.

   [1267] S. Luke xxii. 31, 32.

   [1268] S. Mark ix. 23.

   [1269] S. John xv. 4.

   [1270] Ib. ver. 5.

   [1271] S. James i. 17.

   [1272] Zech. ix. 17 (LXX.).

   [1273] 1 Cor. iv. 7.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   That temperateness and the endurance of temptations must be given to us
   by the Lord.

   And that all the endurance, with which we can bear the temptations
   brought upon us, depends not so much on our own strength as on the
   mercy and guidance of God, the blessed Apostle thus declares: "No
   temptation hath come upon you but such as is common to man. But God is
   faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able,
   but will with the temptation make also a way of escape, that ye may be
   able to bear it." [1274] And that God fits and strengthens our souls
   for every good work, and worketh in us all those things which are
   pleasing to Him, the same Apostle teaches: "May the God of peace who
   brought out of darkness the great Shepherd of the sheep, Jesus Christ,
   in the blood of the everlasting Testament, fit you in all goodness,
   working in you what is well-pleasing in His sight." [1275] And that the
   same thing may happen to the Thessalonians he prays as follows, saying:
   "Now our Lord Jesus Christ Himself and God our Father who hath loved us
   and hath given us everlasting consolation and good hope in grace,
   exhort your hearts, and confirm you in every good word and work."
   [1276]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1274] 1 Cor. x. 13.

   [1275] Heb. xiii. 20, 21.

   [1276] 2 Thess. ii. 15, 16.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   That the continual fear of God must be bestowed on us by the Lord.

   And lastly the prophet Jeremiah, speaking in the person of God, clearly
   testifies that even the fear of God, by which we can hold fast to Him,
   is shed upon us by the Lord: saying as follows: "And I will give them
   one heart, and one way, that they may fear Me all days: and that it may
   be well with them and with their children after them. And I will make
   an everlasting covenant with them and will not cease to do them good:
   and I will give My fear in their hearts that they may not revolt from
   Me." [1277] Ezekiel also says: "And I will give them one heart, and
   will put a new spirit in their bowels: and I will take away the stony
   heart out of their flesh and will give them a heart of flesh: that they
   may walk in My commandments, and keep My judgments and do them: and
   that they may be My people, and I may be their God." [1278]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1277] Jerem. xxxii. 39, 40.

   [1278] Ezek. xi. 19, 20.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   That the beginning of our good will and its completion comes from God.

   And this plainly teaches us that the beginning of our good will is
   given to us by the inspiration of the Lord, when He draws us towards
   the way of salvation either by His own act, or by the exhortations of
   some man, or by compulsion; and that the consummation of our good deeds
   is granted by Him in the same way: but that it is in our own power to
   follow up the encouragement and assistance of God with more or less
   zeal, and that accordingly we are rightly visited either with reward or
   with punishment, because we have been either careless or careful to
   correspond to His design and providential arrangement made for us with
   such kindly regard. And this is clearly and plainly described in
   Deuteronomy. "When," says he, "the Lord thy God shall have brought thee
   into the land which thou art going to possess, and shall have destroyed
   many nations before thee, the Hittite, and the Gergeshite, and the
   Amorite, the Canaanite, and the Perizzite, the Hivite, and the
   Jebusite, seven nations much more numerous than thou art and stronger
   than thou, and the Lord thy God shall have delivered them to thee, thou
   shalt utterly destroy them. Thou shalt make no league with them.
   Neither shalt thou make marriage with them." [1279] So then Scripture
   declares that it is the free gift of God that they are brought into the
   land of promise, that many nations are destroyed before them, that
   nations more numerous and mightier than the people of Israel are given
   up into their hands. But whether Israel utterly destroys them, or
   whether it preserves them alive and spares them, and whether or no it
   makes a league with them, and makes marriages with them or not, it
   declares lies in their own power. And by this testimony we can clearly
   see what we ought to ascribe to free will, and what to the design and
   daily assistance of the Lord, and that it belongs to divine grace to
   give us opportunities of salvation and prosperous undertakings and
   victory: but that it is ours to follow up the blessings which God gives
   us with earnestness or indifference. And this same fact we see is
   plainly taught in the healing of the blind men. For the fact that Jesus
   passed by them, was a free gift of Divine providence and condescension.
   But the fact that they cried out and said "Have mercy on us, Lord, thou
   son of David," [1280] was an act of their own faith and belief. That
   they received the sight of their eyes was a gift of Divine pity. But
   that after the reception of any blessing, the grace of God, and the use
   of free will both remain, the case of the ten lepers, who were all
   healed alike, shows us. For when one of them through goodness of will
   returned thanks, the Lord looking for the nine, and praising the one,
   showed that He was ever anxious to help even those who were unmindful
   of His kindness. For even this is a gift of His visitation; viz., that
   he receives and commends the grateful one, and looks for and censures
   those who are thankless.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1279] Deut. vii. 1-3.

   [1280] S. Matt. xx. 31.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   That nothing can be done in this world without God.

   But it is right for us to hold with unswerving faith that nothing
   whatever is done in this world without God. For we must acknowledge
   that everything is done either by His will or by His permission, i.e.,
   we must believe that whatever is good is carried out by the will of God
   and by His aid, and whatever is the reverse is done by His permission,
   when the Divine Protection is withdrawn from us for our sins and the
   hardness of our hearts, and suffers the devil and the shameful passions
   of the body to lord it over us. And the words of the Apostle most
   assuredly teach us this, when he says: "For this cause God delivered
   them up to shameful passions:" and again: "Because they did not like to
   have God in their knowledge, God delivered them up to a reprobate
   sense, to do those things which are not convenient." [1281] And the
   Lord Himself says by the prophet: "But My people did not hear My voice
   and Israel did not obey me: Wherefore I gave them up unto their own
   hearts' lusts. They shall walk after their own inventions." [1282]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1281] Rom. i. 26, 28.

   [1282] Ps. lxxx. (lxxxi.) 12, 13.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   An objection on the power of free will.

   Germanus: This passage very clearly shows the freedom of the will,
   where it is said "If My people would have hearkened unto Me," and
   elsewhere "But My people would not hear My voice." [1283] For when He
   says "If they would have heard" He shows that the decision to yield or
   not to yield lay in their own power. How then is it true that our
   salvation does not depend upon ourselves, if God Himself has given us
   the power either to hearken or not to hearken?
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1283] Ps. lxxx. (lxxxi.) 12, 13.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   The answer; viz., that our free will always has need of the help of the
   Lord.

   Paphnutius: You have shrewdly enough noticed how it is said "If they
   would have hearkened to Me:" but have not sufficiently considered
   either who it is who speaks to one who does or does not hearken; or
   what follows: "I should soon have put down their enemies, and laid My
   hand on those that trouble them." [1284] Let no one then try by a false
   interpretation to twist that which we brought forward to prove that
   nothing can be done without the Lord, nor take it in support of free
   will, in such a way as to try to take away from man the grace of God
   and His daily oversight, through this test: "But My people did not hear
   My voice," and again: "If My people would have hearkened unto Me, and
   if Israel would have walked in My ways, etc.:" but let him consider
   that just as the power of free will is evidenced by the disobedience of
   the people, so the daily oversight of God who declares and admonishes
   him is also shown. For where He says "If My people would have hearkened
   unto Me" He clearly implies that He had spoken to them before. And this
   the Lord was wont to do not only by means of the written law, but also
   by daily exhortations, as this which is given by Isaiah: "All day long
   have I stretched forth My hands to a disobedient and gain-saying
   people." [1285] Both points then can be supported from this passage,
   where it says: "If My people would have hearkened, and if Israel had
   walked in My ways, I should soon have put down their enemies, and laid
   My hand on those that trouble them." For just as free will is shown by
   the disobedience of the people, so the government of God and His
   assistance is made clear by the beginning and end of the verse, where
   He implies that He had spoken to them before, and that afterwards He
   would put down their enemies, if they would have hearkened unto Him.
   For we have no wish to do away with man's free will by what we have
   said, but only to establish the fact that the assistance and grace of
   God are necessary to it every day and hour. When he had instructed us
   with this discourse Abbot Paphnutius dismissed us from his cell before
   midnight in a state of contrition rather than of liveliness; insisting
   on this as the chief lesson in his discourse; viz., that when we
   fancied that by making perfect the first renunciation (which we were
   endeavouring to do with all our powers), we could climb the heights of
   perfection, we should make the discovery that we had not yet even begun
   to dream of the heights to which a monk can rise, since after we had
   learnt some few things about the second renunciation, we should find
   out that we had not before this even heard a word of the third stage,
   in which all perfection is comprised, and which in many ways far
   exceeds these lower ones.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1284] Ib. ver. 15.

   [1285] Is. lxv. 2.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  IV. Conference of Abbot Daniel.

    On the Lust of the Flesh and of the Spirit.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   Of the life of Abbot Daniel.

   Among the other heroes of Christian philosophy we also knew Abbot
   Daniel, who was not only the equal of those who dwelt in the desert of
   Scete in every sort of virtue, but was specially marked by the grace of
   humility. This man on account of his purity and gentleness, though in
   age the junior of most, was preferred to the office of the diaconate by
   the blessed Paphnutius, presbyter in the same desert: for the blessed
   Paphnutius was so delighted with his excellent qualities, that, as he
   knew that he was his equal in virtue and grace of life, he was anxious
   also to make him his equal in the order of the priesthood. And since he
   could not bear that he should remain any longer in an inferior office,
   and was also anxious to provide a worthy successor to himself in his
   lifetime, he promoted him to the dignity of the priesthood. [1286] He
   however relinquished nothing of his former customary humility, and when
   the other was present, never took upon himself anything from his
   advance to a higher order, but when Abbot Paphnutius was offering
   spiritual sacrifices, ever continued to act as a deacon in the office
   of his former ministry. However, the blessed Paphnutius though so great
   a saint as to possess the grace of foreknowledge in many matters, yet
   in this case was disappointed of his hope of the succession and the
   choice he had made, for he himself passed to God no long time after him
   whom he had prepared as his successor.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1286] Nothing further appears to be known of Daniel than what is here
   told us by Cassian. There has been some discussion as to the action of
   Paphnutius in having him raised to the priesthood, as Cassian here
   narrates. Was Paphnutius really a bishop, or is it a case of
   presbyterian orders, or do Cassian's expressions merely mean that
   Paphnutius procured his ordination first to the Diaconate and then to
   the Priesthood? Probably the latter, for (1) all the evidence goes to
   show that presbyters had not the power of ordination; and (2) there are
   many instances, in which it is said even of the laity that they
   "ordained" men to the ministry when all that can possibly be meant is
   that they "procured their ordination;" further (3) it will be noticed
   that it is not even said that Paphnutius ordained Daniel but merely
   that he "promoted" him to the priesthood; an expression which might
   equally well be used of nomination as of actual ordination. See the
   subject discussed in Bingham's Antiquities, Book II. c. iii. S: 7, and
   C. Gore's "Church and the Ministry," p. 374.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   An investigation of the origin of a sudden change of feeling from
   inexpressible joy to extreme dejection of mind.

   So then we asked this blessed Daniel why it was that as we sat in the
   cells we were sometimes filled with the utmost gladness of heart,
   together with inexpressible delight and abundance of the holiest
   feelings, so that I will not say speech, but feeling could not follow
   it, and pure prayers were readily breathed, and the mind being filled
   with spiritual fruits, praying to God even in sleep could feel that its
   petitions rose lightly and powerfully to God: and again, why it was
   that for no reason we were suddenly filled with the utmost grief, and
   weighed down with unreasonable depression, so that we not only felt as
   if we ourselves were overcome with such feelings, but also our cell
   grew dreadful, reading palled upon us, aye and our very prayers were
   offered up unsteadily and vaguely, and almost as if we were
   intoxicated: so that while we were groaning and endeavouring to restore
   ourselves to our former disposition, our mind was unable to do this,
   and the more earnestly it sought to fix again its gaze upon God, so was
   it the more vehemently carried away to wandering thoughts by shifting
   aberrations and so utterly deprived of all spiritual fruits, as not to
   be capable of being roused from this deadly slumber even by the desire
   of the kingdom of heaven, or by the fear of hell held out to it. To
   this he replied.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   His answer to the question raised.

   A threefold account of this mental dryness of which you speak has been
   given by the Elders. For it comes either from carelessness on our part,
   or from the assaults of the devil, or from the permission and allowance
   of the Lord. From carelessness on our part, when through our own
   faults, coldness has come upon us, and we have behaved carelessly and
   hastily, and owing to slothful idleness have fed on bad thoughts, and
   so make the ground of our heart bring forth thorns and thistles; which
   spring up in it, and consequently make us sterile, and powerless as
   regards all spiritual fruit and meditation. From the assaults of the
   devil when, sometimes, while we are actually intent on good desires,
   our enemy with crafty subtilty makes his way into our heart, and
   without our knowledge and against our will we are drawn away from the
   best intentions.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   How there is a twofold reason for the permission and allowance of God.

   But for God's permission and allowance there is a twofold reason.
   First, that being for a short time forsaken by the Lord, and observing
   with all humility the weakness of our own heart, we may not be puffed
   up on account of the previous purity of heart. granted to us by His
   visitation; and that by proving that when we are forsaken by Him we
   cannot possibly recover our former state of purity and delight by any
   groanings and efforts of our own, we may also learn that our previous
   gladness of heart resulted not from our own earnestness but from His
   gift, and that for the present time it must be sought once more from
   His grace and enlightenment. But a second reason for this allowance, is
   to prove our perseverance, and steadfastness of mind, and real desires,
   and to show in us, with what purpose of heart, or earnestness in prayer
   we seek for the return of the Holy Spirit, when He leaves us, and also
   in order that when we discover with what efforts we must seek for that
   spiritual gladness--when once it is lost--and the joy of purity, we may
   learn to preserve it more carefully, when once it is secured, and to
   hold it with firmer grasp. For men are generally more careless about
   keeping whatever they think can be easily replaced.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   How our efforts and exertions are of no use without God's help.

   And by this it is clearly shown that God's grace and mercy always work
   in us what is good, and that when it forsakes us, the efforts of the
   worker are useless, and that however earnestly a man may strive, he
   cannot regain his former condition without His help, and that this
   saying is constantly fulfilled in our case: that it is "not of him that
   willeth or runneth but of God which hath mercy." [1287] And this grace
   on the other hand sometimes does not refuse to visit with that holy
   inspiration of which you spoke, and with an abundance of spiritual
   thoughts, even the careless and indifferent; but inspires the unworthy,
   arouses the slumberers, and enlightens those who are blinded by
   ignorance, and mercifully reproves us and chastens us, shedding itself
   abroad in our hearts, that thus we may be stirred by the compunction
   which He excites, and impelled to rise from the sleep of sloth. Lastly
   we are often filled by His sudden visitation with sweet odours, beyond
   the power of human composition--so that the soul is ravished with these
   delights, and caught up, as it were, into an ecstasy of spirit, and
   becomes oblivious of the fact that it is still in the flesh.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1287] Rom. ix. 16.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   How it is sometimes to our advantage to be left by God.

   But the blessed David recognizes that sometimes this departure of which
   we have spoken, and (as it were) desertion by God may be to some extent
   to our advantage, so that he was unwilling to pray, not that he might
   not be absolutely forsaken by God in anything (for he was aware that
   this would have been disadvantageous both to himself and to human
   nature in its course towards perfection) but he rather entreated that
   it might be in measure and degree, saying "Forsake me not utterly"
   [1288] as if to say in other words: I know that thou dost forsake thy
   saints to their advantage, in order to prove them, for in no other way
   could they be tempted by the devil, unless they were for a little
   forsaken by Thee. And therefore I ask not that Thou shouldest never
   forsake me, for it would not be well for me not to feel my weakness and
   say "It is good for me that Thou hast brought me low" [1289] nor to
   have no opportunity of fighting. And this I certainly should not have,
   if the Divine protection shielded me incessantly and unbrokenly. For
   the devil will not dare to attack me while supported by Thy defence, as
   he brings both against me and Thee this objection and complaint, which
   he ever slanderously brings against Thy champions, "Does Job serve God
   for nought? Hast not Thou made a fence for him and his house and all
   his substance round about?" [1290] But I rather entreat that Thou
   forsake me not utterly--what the Greeks call heos sphodra, i.e., too
   much. For, first, as it is advantageous to me for Thee to forsake me a
   little, that the steadfastness of my love may be tried, so it is
   dangerous if Thou suffer me to be forsaken excessively in proportion to
   my faults and what I deserve, since no power of man, if in temptation
   it is forsaken for too long a time by Thine aid, can endure by its own
   steadfastness, and not forthwith give in to the power of the enemy's
   side, unless Thou Thyself, as Thou knowest the strength of man, and
   moderatest his struggles, "Suffer us not to be tempted above that we
   are able, but makest with the temptation a way of escape that we may be
   able to bear it." [1291] And something of this sort we read in the book
   of Judges was mystically designed in the matter of the extermination of
   the spiritual nations which were opposed to Israel: "These are the
   nations, which the Lord left that by them He might instruct Israel,
   that they might learn to fight with their enemies," and again shortly
   after: "And the Lord left them that He might try Israel by them,
   whether they would hear the commandments of the Lord, which He had
   commanded their fathers by the hand of Moses, or not." [1292] And this
   conflict God reserved for Israel, not from envy of their peace, or from
   a wish to hurt them, but because He knew that it would be good for them
   that while they were always oppressed by the attacks of those nations
   they might not cease to feel themselves in need of the aid of the Lord,
   and for this reason might ever continue to meditate on Him and invoke
   His aid, and not grow careless through lazy ease, and lose the habit of
   resisting, and the practice of virtue. For again and again, men whom
   adversity could not overcome, have been cast down by freedom from care
   and by prosperity.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1288] Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 8.

   [1289] Ib. ver. 71.

   [1290] Job i. 9, 10.

   [1291] 1 Cor. x. 13.

   [1292] Judg. iii. 1-4.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   Of the value of the conflict which the Apostle makes to consist in the
   strife between the flesh and the spirit.

   This conflict too we read in the Apostle has for our good been placed
   in our members: "For the flesh lusteth against the spirit: and the
   spirit against the flesh. But these two are opposed to each other so
   that ye should not do what ye would." [1293] You have here too a
   contest as it were implanted in our bodies, by the action and
   arrangement of the Lord. For when a thing exists in everybody
   universally and without the slightest exception, what else can you
   think about it except that it belongs to the substance of human nature,
   since the fall of the first man, as it were naturally: and when a thing
   is found to be congenital with everybody, and to grow with their
   growth, how can we help believing that it was implanted by the will of
   the Lord, not to injure them but to help them? But the reason of this
   conflict; viz., of flesh and spirit, he tells us is this: that ye
   should not do what ye would." And so, if we fulfil what God arranged
   that we should not fulfil, i.e., that we should not do what we liked,
   how can we help believing that it is bad for us? And this conflict
   implanted in us by the arrangement of the Creator is in a way useful to
   us, and calls and urges us on to a higher state: and if it ceased, most
   surely there would ensue on the other hand a peace that is fraught with
   danger.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1293] Gal. v. 17.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   A question, how it is that in the Apostle's chapter, after he has
   spoken of the lusts of the flesh and spirit opposing one another, he
   adds a third thing; viz., man's will.

   Germanus: Although some glimmer of the sense now seems clear to us, yet
   as we cannot thoroughly grasp the Apostle's meaning, we want you to
   explain this more clearly to us. For the existence of three things
   seems to be indicated here: first, the struggle of the flesh against
   the spirit, secondly the desire of the spirit against the flesh, and
   thirdly our own free will, which seems to be placed between the two,
   and of which it is said: "Ye should not do what ye will." And on this
   subject though as I said we can gather some hints, from what you have
   explained of the meaning, yet--since this conference gives the
   opportunity--we are anxious to have it more fully explained to us.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   The answer on the understanding of one who asks rightly.

   Daniel: It belongs to the understanding to discern the distinctions and
   the drift of questions; and it is a main part of knowledge to
   understand how ignorant you are. Wherefore it is said that "if a fool
   asks questions, it will be accounted wisdom," [1294] because, although
   one who asks questions is ignorant of the answer to the question
   raised, yet as he wisely asks, and learns what he does not know, this
   very fact will be counted as wisdom in him, because he wisely discovers
   what he was ignorant of. According then to this division of yours, it
   seems that in this passage the Apostle mentions three things, the lust
   of the flesh against the spirit, and of the spirit against the flesh,
   the mutual struggle of which against each other appears to have this as
   its cause and reason; viz., "that," says he, "we should not do what we
   would." There remains then a fourth case, which you have overlooked;
   viz., that we should do what we would not. Now then, we must first
   discover the meaning of those two desires, i.e., of the flesh and
   spirit, and so next learn to discuss our free will, which is placed
   between the two, and then lastly in the same way we can see what cannot
   belong to our free will.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1294] Prov. xvii. 28. (LXX.).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   That the word flesh is not used with one single meaning only.

   We find that the word flesh is used in holy Scripture with many
   different meanings: for sometimes it stands for the whole man, i.e.,
   for that which consists of body and soul, as here "And the Word was
   made flesh," [1295] and "All flesh shall see the salvation of our God."
   [1296] Sometimes it stands for sinful and carnal men, as here "My
   spirit shall not remain in those men, because they are flesh." [1297]
   Sometimes it is used for sins themselves, as here: "But ye are not in
   the flesh but in the spirit," [1298] and again "Flesh and blood shall
   not inherit the kingdom of God:" lastly there follows, "Neither shall
   corruption inherit incorruption." [1299] Sometimes it stands for
   consanguinity and relationship, as here: "Behold we are thy bone and
   thy flesh," [1300] and the Apostle says: "If by any means I may provoke
   to emulation them who are my flesh, and save some of them." [1301] We
   must therefore inquire in which of these four meanings we ought to take
   the word flesh in this place, for it is clear that it cannot possibly
   stand as in the passage where it is said "The Word was made flesh," and
   "All flesh shall see the salvation of God." Neither can it have the
   same meaning as where it is said "My Spirit shall not remain in those
   men because they are flesh," because the word flesh is not used here as
   it is there where it stands simply for a sinful man--when he says" The
   flesh lusteth against the spirit and the spirit against the flesh."
   [1302] Nor is he speaking of things material, but of realities which in
   one and the same man struggle either at the same time or separately,
   with the shifting and changing of time.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1295] S. John i. 14.

   [1296] S. Luke iii. 6.

   [1297] Gen. vi. 3.

   [1298] Rom. viii. 9.

   [1299] 1 Cor. xv. 50.

   [1300] 2 Sam. v. 1.

   [1301] Rom. xi. 14.

   [1302] Gal. v. 17.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   What the Apostle means by flesh in this passage, and what the lust of
   the flesh is.

   Wherefore in this passage we ought to take "flesh" as meaning not man,
   i.e., his material substance, but the carnal will and evil desires,
   just as "spirit" does not mean anything material, but the good and
   spiritual desires of the soul: a meaning which the blessed Apostle has
   clearly given just before, where he begins: "But I say, walk in the
   spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the desires of the flesh; for the flesh
   lusteth against the spirit and the spirit against the flesh: but these
   are contrary the one to the other, that ye may not do what ye would."
   And since these two; viz., the desires of the flesh and of the spirit
   co-exist in one and the same man, there arises an internal warfare
   daily carried on within us, while the lust of the flesh which rushes
   blindly towards sin, revels in those delights which are connected with
   present ease. And on the other hand the desire of the spirit is opposed
   to these, and wishes to be entirely absorbed in spiritual efforts, so
   that it actually wants to be rid of even the necessary uses of the
   flesh, longing to be so constantly taken up with these things as to
   desire to have no share of anxiety about the weakness of the flesh. The
   flesh delights in wantonness and lust: the spirit does not even
   tolerate natural desires. The one wants to have plenty of sleep, and to
   be satiated with food: the other is nourished with vigils and fasting,
   so as to be unwilling even to admit of sleep and food for the needful
   purposes of life. The one longs to be enriched with plenty of
   everything, the other is satisfied even without the possession of a
   daily supply of scanty food. The one seeks to look sleek by means of
   baths, and to be surrounded every day by crowds of flatterers, the
   other delights in dirt and filth, and the solitude of the inaccessible
   desert, and dreads the approach of all mortal men. The one lives on the
   esteem and applause of men, the other glories in injuries offered to
   it, and in persecutions.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   What is our free will, which stands in between the lust of the flesh
   and the spirit.

   Between these two desires then the free will of the soul stands in an
   intermediate position somewhat worthy of blame, and neither delights in
   the excesses of sin, nor acquiesces in the sorrows of virtue. Seeking
   to restrain itself from carnal passions in such a way as not
   nevertheless to be willing to undergo the requisite suffering, and
   wanting to secure bodily chastity without chastising the flesh, and to
   acquire purity of heart without the exertion of vigils, and to abound
   in spiritual virtues together with carnal ease, and to attain the grace
   of patience without the irritation of contradiction, and to practise
   the humility of Christ without the loss of worldly honour, to aim at
   the simplicity of religion in conjunction with worldly ambition, to
   serve Christ not without the praise and favour of men, to profess the
   strictness which truth demands without giving the slightest offence to
   anybody: in a word, it is anxious to pursue future blessings in such a
   way as not to lose present ones. And this free will would never lead us
   to attain true perfection, but would plunge us into a most miserable
   condition of lukewarmness, and make us like those who are rebuked by
   the Lord's remonstrance in the Apocalypse: "I know thy works, that thou
   art neither hot nor cold. I would that thou wert hot or cold. But now
   thou art lukewarm, and I will forthwith spue thee out of my mouth;"
   [1303] were it not that these contentions which rise up on both sides
   disturb and destroy this condition of lukewarmness. For when we give in
   to this free will of ours and want to let ourselves go in the direction
   of this slackness, at once the desires of the flesh start up, and
   injure us with their sinful passions, and do not suffer us to continue
   in that state of purity in which we delight, and allure us to that cold
   and thorny path of pleasure which we have to dread. Again, if inflamed
   with fervour of spirit, we want to root out the works of the flesh, and
   without any regard to human weakness try to raise ourselves altogether
   to excessive efforts after virtue, the frailty of the flesh comes in,
   and recalls us and restrains us from that over excess of spirit which
   is bad for us: and so the result is that as these two desires are
   contradicting each other in a struggle of this kind, the soul's free
   will, which does not like either to give itself up entirely to carnal
   desires, nor to throw itself into the exertions which virtue calls for,
   is tempered as it were by a fair balance, while this struggle between
   the two hinders that more dangerous free will of the soul, and makes a
   sort of equitable balance in the scales of our body, which marks out
   the limits of flesh and spirit most accurately, and does not allow the
   mind inflamed with fervour of spirit to sway to the right hand, nor the
   flesh to incline through the pricks of sin, to the left. And while this
   struggle goes on day after day in us to our profit, we are driven most
   beneficially to come to that fourth stage which we do not like, so as
   to gain purity of heart not by ease and carelessness, but by constant
   efforts and contrition of spirit; to retain our chastity of the flesh
   by prolonged fastings, hunger, thirst, and watchfulness; to acquire
   purpose of heart by reading, vigils, constant prayer and the
   wretchedness of solitude; to preserve patience by the endurance of
   tribulation; to serve our Maker in the midst of blasphemies and
   abounding insults; to follow after truth if need be amid the hatred of
   the world and its enmity; and while, with such a struggle going on in
   our body, we are secured from slothful carelessness, and incited to
   that effort which is against the grain, and to the desire for virtue,
   our proper balance is admirably secured, and on one side the languid
   choice of our free will is tempered by fervour of spirit, and on the
   other the frigid coldness of the flesh is moderated by a gentle warmth,
   and while the desire of the spirit does not allow the mind to be
   dragged into unbridled licence, neither does the weakness of the flesh
   allow the spirit to be drawn on to unreasonable aspirations after
   holiness, lest in the one case incentives to all kinds of sins might
   arise, or in the other the earliest of all sins might lift its head and
   wound us with a yet more fatal dart of pride: but a due equilibrium
   will result from this struggle, and open to us a safe and secure path
   of virtue between the two, and teach the soldier of Christ ever to walk
   on the King's highway. And thus the result will be that when, in
   consequence of the lukewarmness arising from this sluggish will of
   which we have spoken, the mind has been more easily entangled in carnal
   desires, it is checked by the desire of the spirit, which by no means
   acquiesces in earthly sins; and again, if through over much feeling our
   spirit has been carried in unbounded fervour and towards ill-considered
   and impossible heights, it is recalled by the weakness of the flesh to
   sounder considerations and rising above the lukewarm condition of our
   free will with due proportion and even course proceeds along the way of
   perfection. Something of this sort we hear that the Lord ordained in
   the case of the building of that tower in the book of Genesis, where a
   confusion of tongues suddenly sprang up, and put a stop to the
   blasphemous and wicked attempts of men. For there would have remained
   there in opposition to God, aye and against the interest of those who
   had begun to assail His Divine Majesty, an agreement boding no good,
   unless by God's providence the difference of languages, raising
   disturbances among them, had forced them because of the variations of
   their words to go on to a better condition, and a happy and valuable
   discord had recalled to salvation those whom a ruinous union had driven
   to destruction, as when divisions arose they began to experience human
   weakness of which when puffed up by their wicked plots they had
   hitherto known nothing.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1303] Rev. iii. 15, 16.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   Of the advantage of the delay which results from the struggle between
   flesh and spirit.

   But from the differences which this conflict causes, there arises a
   delay that is so far advantageous to us, and from this struggle an
   adjournment that is for our good, so that while through the resistance
   of the material body we are hindered from carrying out those things
   which we have wickedly conceived with our minds, we are sometimes
   recalled to a better mind either by penitence springing up, or by some
   better thoughts which usually come to us when delay in carrying out
   things, and time for reflection intervene. Lastly, those who, as we
   know, are not prevented from carrying out the desires of their free
   will by any hindrances of the flesh, I mean devils and spiritual
   wickednesses, these, since they have fallen from a higher and angelical
   state, we see are in a worse plight than men, much in as much as (owing
   to the fact that opportunity is always present to gratify their
   desires) they are not delayed from irrevocably performing whatever evil
   they have imagined because as their mind is quick to conceive it, so
   their substance is ready and free to carry it out; and while a short
   and easy method is given them of doing what they wish, no salutary
   second thoughts come in to amend their wicked intention.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   Of the incurable depravity of spiritual wickednesses.

   For a spiritual substance and one that is not tied to any material
   flesh has no excuse for an evil thought which arises within, and also
   shuts out forgiveness for its sin, because it is not harassed as we are
   by incentives of the flesh without, to sin, but is simply inflamed by
   the fault of a perverse will. And therefore its sin is without
   forgiveness and its weakness without remedy. For as it falls through
   the allurements of no earthly matter, so it can find no pardon or place
   for repentance. And from this we can clearly gather that this struggle
   which arises in us of the flesh and spirit against each other is not
   merely harmless, but actually extremely useful to us.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   Of the value of the lust of the flesh against the spirit in our case.

   To begin with, because it is an immediate reproof of our sloth and
   carelessness, and like some energetic schoolmaster who never allows us
   to deviate from the line of strict discipline, and if our carelessness
   has ever so little exceeded the limits of due gravity which become it,
   it immediately excites us by the stimulus of desire, and chides us and
   recalls us to due moderation. Secondly, because, in the matter of
   chastity and perfect purity, when by God's grace we see that we have
   been for some time kept from carnal pollution, in order that we may not
   imagine that we can no longer be disturbed by the motions of the flesh
   and thereby be elated and puffed up in our secret hearts as if we no
   longer bore about the corruption of the flesh, it humbles and checks
   us, and reminds us by its pricks that we are but men. [1304] For as we
   ordinarily fall without much thought into other kinds of sins and those
   worse and more harmful, and are not so easily ashamed of committing
   them, so in this particular one the conscience is especially humbled,
   and by means of this illusion it is stung by the recollection of
   passions that have been neglected, as it sees clearly that it is
   rendered unclean by natural emotions, of which it knew nothing while it
   was still more unclean through spiritual sins; and so coming back at
   once to the cure of its former sluggishness, it is warned both that it
   ought not to trust in the attainments of purity in the past, which it
   sees to be lost by ever so small a falling away from the Lord, and also
   that it cannot attain the gift of this purity except by God's grace
   alone, since actual experience somehow or other teaches us that if we
   are anxious to reach abiding perfection of heart we must constantly
   endeavour to obtain the virtue of humility.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1304] Suo nos rursum quamvis quieto ac simplici visitans fluxu.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   Of the excitements of the flesh, without the humiliation of which we
   should fall more grievously.

   To the fact then that the pride which results from this purity would be
   more dangerous than all sins and wickednesses, and that we should on
   that account gain no reward for any height of perfect chastity, we may
   call as witnesses those powers of which we spoke before, which since it
   is believed that they experience no such fleshly lusts, were cast down
   from their high and heavenly estate in everlasting destruction simply
   from pride of heart. And so we should be altogether hopelessly
   lukewarm, since we should have no warning of carelessness on our part
   implanted either in our body or in our mind, nor should we ever strive
   to reach the glow of perfection, or even keep to strict frugality and
   abstinence, were it not that this excitement of the flesh springs up
   and humbles us and baffles us and makes us keen and anxious about
   purifying ourselves from spiritual sins.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   Of the lukewarmness of eunuchs.

   Lastly, on this account in those who are Eunuchs, we often detect the
   existence of this lukewarmness of mind, because, as they are so to
   speak free from the needs of the flesh, they fancy that they have no
   need either of the trouble of bodily abstinence, or of contrition of
   heart; and being rendered slack by this freedom from anxiety, they make
   no efforts either truly to seek or to acquire perfection of heart or
   even purity from spiritual faults. And this condition which is the
   result of their state in the flesh, becomes natural, which is
   altogether a worse state. For he who passes from the state of coldness
   to that of lukewarmness is branded by the Lord's words as still more
   hateful.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   The question what is the difference between the carnal and natural man.

   Germanus: You have, it seems to us, very clearly shown the value of the
   struggle which is raised between the flesh and spirit, so that we can
   believe that it can in a sort of way be grasped by us; and therefore we
   want to have this also explained to us in the same way; viz., what is
   the difference between the carnal and the natural man, or how the
   natural man can be worse than the carnal.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   The answer concerning the threefold condition of souls.

   Daniel: There are, according to the statements of Scripture, three
   kinds of souls; the first is the carnal, the second the natural, and
   the third the spiritual: which we find are thus described by the
   Apostle. For of the carnal he says: "I gave you milk to drink, not
   meat: for you were not able as yet. But neither indeed are you now
   able; for you are yet carnal." And again: "For whereas there is among
   you envying and contention, are you not carnal?" [1305] Concerning the
   natural he also speaks as follows: "But the natural man perceiveth not
   the things that are of the spirit of God; for it is foolishness to
   him." But concerning the spiritual: "But the spiritual man judgeth all
   things: and he himself is judged by no man." [1306] And again "You who
   are spiritual instruct such ones in the spirit of meekness." [1307] And
   so, though at our renunciation we ceased to be carnal, i.e., we began
   to separate ourselves from intercourse with those in the world, and to
   have nothing to do with open pollution of the flesh, we must still be
   careful to strive with all our might to attain forthwith a spiritual
   condition, lest haply we flatter ourselves because we seem as far as
   the outer man is concerned to have renounced this world and got rid of
   the defilement of carnal fornication, as if by this we had reached the
   heights of perfection; and thence become careless and indifferent about
   purifying ourselves from other affections, and so being kept back
   between these two, become unable to reach the stage of spiritual
   advancement; either because we think that it is amply sufficient for
   our perfection if we seem to separate ourselves, as regards the outward
   man, from intercourse with this world and from its pleasure, or because
   we are free from corruption and carnal intercourse, and thus we find
   ourselves in that lukewarm condition which is considered the worst of
   all, and discover that we are spued out of the mouth of the Lord, in
   accordance with these words of His: "I would that thou wert hot or
   cold. But now thou art lukewarm and I will begin to spue thee out of My
   mouth." [1308] And not without good reason does the Lord declare that
   those whom he has previously received in the bowels of His love, and
   who have become shamefully lukewarm, shall be spued out and rejected
   from His bosom: in as much as, though they might have yielded Him some
   health-giving subsistence, they preferred to be torn away from His
   heart: thus becoming far worse than those who had never found their way
   into the Lord's mouth as food, just as we turn away with loathing from
   that which nausea compels us to bring up. For whatever is cold is
   warmed when received into the mouth and is received with satisfaction
   and good results. But whatever has been once rejected owing to its
   miserable luke-warmness, we cannot--I will not say touch with the
   lips--but even look on from a distance without the greatest disgust.
   Rightly then is he said to be worse, because the carnal man, i.e., the
   worldly man and the heathen, is more readily brought to saving
   conversion and to the heights of perfection than one who has been
   professed as a monk, but has not, as his rule directs, laid hold on the
   way of perfection, and so has once for all drawn back from that fire of
   spiritual fervour. For the former is at last broken down by the sins of
   the flesh, and acknowledges his uncleanness, and in his compunction
   hastens from carnal pollution to the fountain of true cleansing, and
   the heights of perfection, and in his horror at that cold state of
   infidelity in which he finds himself, he is kindled with the fire of
   the spirit and flies the more readily to perfection. For one who has,
   as we said, once started with a lukewarm beginning, and has begun to
   abuse the name of monk, and who has not laid hold on the way of this
   profession with the humility and fervour that he ought, when once he is
   infected by this miserable plague, and is as it were unstrung by it,
   can no longer of himself discern what is perfect nor learn from the
   admonitions of another. For he says in his heart that which the Lord
   tells us: "Because I am rich and wealthy and want nothing;" and so this
   which follows is at once applied to him: "But thou art wretched, and
   miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked:" [1309] and he is so far in
   a worse condition than a worldly man, because he has no idea that he is
   wretched or blind or naked or requires cleansing, or needs to be
   directed and taught by any one; and on this account he receives no
   sound advice as he does not realise that he is weighted with the name
   of monk, and is lowered in the judgment of all, whereas, though
   everybody believes him to be a saint and regards him as a servant of
   God, he must hereafter be subjected to a stricter judgment and
   punishment. Lastly, why should we any longer linger over those things
   which we have sufficiently discovered and proved by experience? We have
   often seen those who were cold and carnal, i.e., worldly men and
   heathen, attain spiritual warmth: but lukewarm and "natural" men never.
   And these too we read in the prophet are hated of the Lord, so that a
   charge is given to spiritual and learned men to desist from warning and
   teaching them, and not to sow the seed of the life-giving word in
   ground that is barren and unfruitful and choked by noxious thorns; but
   that they should scorn this, and rather cultivate fallow ground, i.e.,
   that they should transfer all their care and teaching, and their zeal
   in the life-giving word to pagans and worldly men: as we thus read:
   "Thus saith the Lord to the men of Judah and inhabitants of Jerusalem:
   break up your fallow ground, and sow not among thorns." [1310]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1305] 1 Cor. iii. 2, 3.

   [1306] 1 Cor. ii. 14, 15.

   [1307] Gal. vi. 1.

   [1308] Rev. iii. 15, 16.

   [1309] Rev. iii. 17.

   [1310] Jerem. iv. 3.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   Of those who renounce the world but ill.

   In the last place I am ashamed to say how we find that a large number
   have made their renunciation in such a way that we find that they have
   altered nothing of their former sins and habits, but only their state
   of life and worldly garb. For they are eager in amassing wealth which
   they never had before, or else do not give up that which they had, or
   which is still sadder, they actually strive to augment it under this
   excuse; viz., that they assert that it is right that they should always
   support with it their relations or the brethren, or they hoard it under
   pretence of starting congregations which they imagine that they can
   preside over as Abbots. But if only they would sincerely seek after the
   way of perfection, they would rather endeavour with all their might and
   main to attain to this: viz., that they might strip themselves not only
   of their wealth but of all their former likings and occupations, and
   place themselves unreservedly and entirely under the guidance of the
   Elders so as to have no anxiety not merely about others, but even about
   themselves. But on the contrary we find that while they are eager to be
   set over their brethren, they are never subject to their Elders
   themselves, and, with pride for their starting point, while they are
   quite ready to teach others they take no trouble to learn themselves or
   to practise what they are to teach: and so it is sure to end in their
   becoming, as the Saviour said, "blind leaders of the blind" so that
   "both fall into the ditch." [1311] And this pride though there is only
   one kind of it, yet takes a twofold form. One form continually puts on
   the appearance of seriousness and gravity, the other breaks out with
   unbridled freedom into silly giggling and laughing. The former delights
   in not talking: the latter thinks it hard to be kept to the restraint
   of silence, and has no scruples about talking freely on matters that
   are unsuitable and foolish, while it is ashamed to be thought inferior
   to or less well informed than others. The one on account of pride seeks
   clerical office, the other looks down upon it, since it fancies that it
   is unsuitable or beneath its former dignity and life and the deserts of
   its birth. And which of these two should be accounted the worse each
   man must consider and decide for himself. At any rate the kind of
   disobedience is one and the same, if a man breaks the Elder's commands
   whether it be owing to zeal in work, or to love of ease: and it is as
   hurtful to upset the rules of the monastery for the sake of sleep, as
   it is for the sake of vigilance, and it is just the same to transgress
   the Abbot's orders in order to read, as it is to slight them in order
   to sleep: nor is there any difference in the incentive to pride if you
   neglect a brother, whether it is because of your fast or because of
   your breakfast: except that those faults which seem to show themselves
   under the guise of virtues and in the form of spirituality are worse
   and less likely to be cured than those which arise openly and from
   carnal pleasures. For these latter, like sicknesses which are perfectly
   plain and visible, are grappled with and cured, while the former, since
   they are covered under the cloak of virtue, remain uncured, and cause
   their victims to fall into a more dangerous and deadly state of ill
   health.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1311] Cf. S. Matt. xv. 14.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   Of those who having made light of great things busy themselves about
   trifles.

   For how can we show how absurd it is that we see that some men after
   their first enthusiasm of renunciation in which they forsook their
   estates and vast wealth and the service of the world, and betook
   themselves to the monasteries, are still earnestly devoted to those
   things which cannot altogether be cut off, and which we cannot do
   without in this state of life, even though they are small and trifling
   things; so that in their case the anxiety about these trifles is
   greater than their love of all their property. And it certainly will
   not profit them much that they have disregarded greater riches and
   property, if they have only transferred their affections (on account of
   which they were to make light of them) to small and trifling things.
   For the sin of covetousness and avarice of which they cannot be guilty
   in the matter of really valuable things, they retain with regard to
   commoner matters, and so show that they have not got rid of their
   former greed but only changed its object. For if they are too careful
   about their mats, baskets, blankets, books, and other trifles such as
   these, the same passion holds them captive as before. And they actually
   guard and defend their rights over them so jealously as to get angry
   with their brethren about them, and, what is worse, they are not
   ashamed to quarrel over them. And being still troubled by the bad
   effects of their former covetousness, they are not content to possess
   those things which the needs and requirements of the body compel a monk
   to have, according to the common number and measure, but here too they
   show the greediness of their heart, as they try to have those things
   which they are obliged to use, better got up than the others; or,
   exceeding all due bounds, keep as their special and peculiar property
   and guard from the touch of others that which ought to belong to all
   the brethren alike. As if the difference of metals, and not the passion
   of covetousness was what mattered; and as if it was wrong to be angry
   about big things, while one might innocently be about trifling matters:
   and as if we had not given up all our precious things just in order
   that we might learn more readily to think nothing about trifles! For
   what difference does it make whether one gives way to covetousness in
   the matter of large and splendid things, or in the matter of the merest
   trifles, except that we ought to think a man so far worse if he has
   made light of great things and then is a slave to little things? And so
   that sort of renunciation of the world does not attain perfection of
   heart, because though it ranks as poverty it still keeps the mind of
   wealth.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  V. Conference of Abbot Serapion.

    On the Eight Principal Faults.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   Our arrival at Abbot Serapion's cell, and inquiry on the different
   kinds of faults and the way to overcome them.

   In that assembly of Ancients and Elders was a man named Serapion,
   [1312] especially endowed with the grace of discretion, whose
   Conference I think it is worth while to set down in writing. For when
   we entreated him to discourse of the way to overcome our faults, so
   that their origin and cause might be made clearer to us, he thus began.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1312] Serapion when young was a pupil of Theonas, and an anecdote of
   his youthful indulgence in good things in secret has been already told
   in II. c. xi. Another story of him is given in XVIII. xi. One of this
   name is mentioned by Palladius in the Lausiac History, c. lxxvi., and
   by Rufinus in the History of the Monks, c. xviii., where we are told
   that he lived at Arsinoee, and that he had ten thousand monks subject
   to his rule; a number which Sozomen also gives (H.E. VI. xxviii.). It
   is however, doubtful whether this Serapion of Arsinoee is the person
   whose Conference Cassian here gives. Gazet identifies, Tillemont
   distinguishes the two. Jerome, it should be noticed, speaks in Ep.
   cviii. (Epitaphium Paulae) as if there was not only one of this name
   famous among the monks of Egypt at that time.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   Abbot Serapion's enumeration of eight principal faults.

   There are eight principal faults which attack mankind; viz., first
   gastrimargia, which means gluttony, secondly fornication, thirdly
   philargyria, i.e., avarice or the love of money, fourthly anger,
   fifthly dejection, sixthly acedia, i.e., listlessness or low spirits,
   seventhly cenodoxia, i.e., boasting or vain glory; and eighthly pride.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   Of the two classes of faults and their fourfold manner of acting on us.

   Of these faults then there are two classes. For they are either natural
   to us as gluttony, or arise outside of nature as covetousness. But
   their manner of acting on us is fourfold. For some cannot be
   consummated without an act on the part of the flesh, as gluttony and
   fornication, while some can be completed without any bodily act, as
   pride and vainglory. Some find the reasons for their being excited
   outside us, as covetousness and anger; others are aroused by internal
   feelings, as accidie [1313] and dejection.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1313] For this word see the note on the Institutes V. i.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   A review of the passions of gluttony and fornication and their
   remedies.

   And to make this clearer not only by a short discussion to the best of
   my ability, but by Scripture proof as well, gluttony and fornication,
   though they exist in us naturally (for sometimes they spring up without
   any incitement from the mind, and simply at the motion and allurement
   of the flesh) yet if they are to be consummated, must find an external
   object, and thus take effect only through bodily acts. For "every man
   is tempted of his own lust. Then lust when it has conceived beareth
   sin, and sin when it is consummated begets death." [1314] For the first
   Adam could not have fallen a victim to gluttony unless he had had
   material food at hand, and had used it wrongly, nor could the second
   Adam be tempted without the enticement of some object, when it was said
   to Him: "If Thou art the Son of God, command that these stones be made
   bread." [1315] And it is clear to everybody that fornication also is
   only completed by a bodily act, as God says of this spirit to the
   blessed Job: "And his force is in his loins, and his strength in the
   navel of his belly." [1316] And so these two faults in particular,
   which are carried into effect by the aid of the flesh, especially
   require bodily abstinence as well as spiritual care of the soul; since
   the determination of the mind is not in itself enough to resist their
   attacks (as is sometimes the case with anger or gloominess or the other
   passions, which an effort of the mind alone can overcome without any
   mortification of the flesh); but bodily chastisement must be used as
   well, and be carried out by means of fasting and vigils and acts of
   contrition; and to this must be added change of scene, because since
   these sins are the results of faults of both mind and body, so they can
   only be overcome by the united efforts of both. And although the
   blessed Apostle says generally that all faults are carnal, since he
   enumerates enmities and anger and heresies among other works of the
   flesh, [1317] yet in order to cure them and to discover their nature
   more exactly we make a twofold division of them: for we call some of
   them carnal, and some spiritual. And those we call carnal, which
   specially have to do with pampering the appetites of the flesh, and
   with which it is so charmed and satisfied, that sometimes it excites
   the mind when at rest and even drags it against its will to consent to
   its desire. Of which the blessed Apostle says: "In which also we all
   walked in time past in the desires of our flesh, fulfilling the will of
   the flesh and of our thoughts, and were by nature children of wrath
   even as the rest." [1318] But we call those spiritual which spring only
   from the impulse of the mind and not merely contribute no pleasure to
   the flesh, but actually bring on it a weakness that is harmful to it,
   and only feed a diseased mind with the food of a most miserable
   pleasure. And therefore these need a single medicine for the heart: but
   those which are carnal can only be cured, as we said, by a double
   remedy. Whence it is extremely useful for those who aspire to purity,
   to begin by withdrawing from themselves the material which feeds these
   carnal passions, through which opportunity for or recollection of these
   same desires can arise in a soul that is still affected by the evil.
   For a complicated disease needs a complicated remedy. For from the body
   the object and material which would allure it must be withdrawn, for
   fear lest the lust should endeavour to break out into act; and before
   the mind we should no less carefully place diligent meditation on
   Scripture and watchful anxiety and the withdrawal into solitude, lest
   it should give birth to desire even in thought. But as regards other
   faults intercourse with our fellows is no obstacle, or rather it is of
   the greatest possible use, to those who truly desire to get rid of
   them, because in mixing with others they more often meet with rebuke,
   and while they are more frequently provoked the existence of the faults
   is made evident, and so they are cured with speedy remedies.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1314] S. James i. 14, 15.

   [1315] S. Matt. iv. 3.

   [1316] Job xl. 16.

   [1317] Cf. Gal. v. 19.

   [1318] Eph. ii. 3.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   How our Lord alone was tempted without sin.

   And so our Lord Jesus Christ, though declared by the Apostle's word to
   have been tempted in all points like as we are, is yet said to have
   been "without sin," [1319] i.e., without the infection of this
   appetite, as He knew nothing of incitements of carnal lust, with which
   we are sure to be troubled even against our will and without our
   knowledge; [1320] for the archangel thus describes the manner of His
   conception: "The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee and the power of the
   Most High shall overshadow thee: therefore that which shall be born of
   thee shall be called holy, the Son of God." [1321]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1319] Heb. iv. 15.

   [1320] The following from D. Mozley's profound work on the Augustinian
   Theory of Predestination may serve to illustrate the remarks in the
   text: "Scripture says that our Lord was in all points tempted like as
   we are. But the Church has not considered it consistent with piety to
   interpret this text to mean that our Lord had the same direct
   propension to sin that we have, or that which is called by divines
   concupiscence. Such direct appetite for what is sinful is the
   characteristic of our fallen and corrupt nature, and our Lord did not
   assume a corrupt, but a sound humanity. Indeed, concupiscence, even
   prior to and independent of its gratification has of itself the nature
   of sin; and therefore could not belong to a perfect Being. Our Lord had
   all the passions and affections that legitimately belong to man; which
   passions and affections, tending as they do in their own natures to
   become inordinate, constituted of themselves a state of trial; but the
   Church has regarded our Lord's trial as consisting in preserving
   ordinate affections from becoming inordinate, rather than in
   restraining desire proximate to sin from gratification" (p. 97).

   [1321] S. Luke i. 35.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   Of the manner of the temptation in which our Lord was attacked by the
   devil.

   For it was right that He who was in possession of the perfect image and
   likeness of God should be Himself tempted through those passions,
   through which Adam also was tempted while he still retained the image
   of God unbroken, that is, through gluttony, vainglory, pride; and not
   through those in which he was by his own fault entangled and involved
   after the transgression of the commandment, when the image and likeness
   of God was marred. For it was gluttony through which he took the fruit
   of the forbidden tree, vainglory through which it was said "Your eyes
   shall be opened," and pride through which it was said "Ye shall be as
   gods, knowing good and evil." [1322] With these three sins then we read
   that the Lord our Saviour was also tempted; with gluttony when the
   devil said to Him: "Command these stones that they be made bread:" with
   vainglory: "If Thou art the Son of God cast Thyself down:" with pride,
   when he showed him all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them
   and said: "All this will I give to Thee if Thou wilt fall down and
   worship me:" [1323] in order that He might by His example teach us how
   we ought to vanquish the tempter when we are attacked on the same lines
   of temptation as He was. And so both the former and the latter are
   spoken of as Adam; the one being the first for destruction and death,
   and the other the first for resurrection and life. Through the one the
   whole race of mankind is brought into condemnation, through the other
   the whole race of mankind is set free. The one was fashioned out of raw
   and unformed earth, the other was born of the Virgin Mary. In His case
   then though it was fitting that He should undergo temptation, yet it
   was not necessary that He should fail under it. Nor could He who had
   vanquished gluttony be tempted by fornication, which springs from
   superfluity and gluttony as its root, with which even the first Adam
   would not have been destroyed unless before its birth he had been
   deceived by the wiles of the devil and fallen a victim to passion. And
   therefore the Son of God is not said absolutely to have come "in the
   flesh of sin," but "in the likeness of the flesh of sin," because
   though His was true flesh and He ate and drank and slept, and truly
   received the prints of the nails, there was in Him no true sin
   inherited from the fall, but only what was something like it. For He
   had no experience of the fiery darts of carnal lust, which in our case
   arise even against our will, from the constitution of our natures, but
   He took upon Him something like this, by sharing in our nature. For as
   He truly fulfilled every function which belongs to us, and bore all
   human infirmities, He has consequently been considered to have been
   subject to this feeling also, that He might appear through these
   infirmities to bear in His own flesh the state even of this fault and
   sin. Lastly the devil only tempted Him to those sins, by which he had
   deceived the first Adam, inferring that He as man would similarly be
   deceived in other matters if he found that He was overcome by those
   temptations by which he had overthrown His predecessor. But as he was
   overthrown in the first encounter he was not able to bring upon Him the
   second infirmity which had shot up as from the root of the first fault.
   For he saw that He had not even admitted anything from which this
   infirmity might take its rise, and it was idle to hope for the fruit of
   sin from Him, as he saw that He in no sort of way received into Himself
   seeds or roots of it. Yet according to Luke, who places last that
   temptation in which he uses the words "If Thou art the Son of God, cast
   Thyself down," [1324] we can understand this of the feeling of pride,
   so that that earlier one, which Matthew places third, in which, as Luke
   the evangelist says, the devil showed Him all the kingdoms of the world
   in a moment of time and promised them to Him, may be taken of the
   feeling of covetousness, because after His victory over gluttony, he
   did not venture to tempt Him to fornication, but passed on to
   covetousness, which he knew to be the root of all evils, [1325] and
   when again vanquished in this, he did not dare attack Him with any of
   those sins which follow, which, as he knew full well, spring from this
   as a root and source; and so he passed on to the last passion; viz.,
   pride, by which he knew that those who are perfect and have overcome
   all other sins, can be affected, and owing to which he remembered that
   he himself in his character of Lucifer, and many others too, had fallen
   from their heavenly estate, without temptation from any of the
   preceding passions. In this order then which we have mentioned, which
   is the one given by the evangelist Luke, there is an exact agreement
   between the allurements and forms of the temptations by which that most
   crafty foe attacked both the first and the second Adam. For to the one
   he said "Your eyes shall be opened;" to the other "he showed all the
   kingdoms of the world and the glory of them." In the one case he said
   "Ye shall be as gods;" in the other, "If Thou art the Son of God."
   [1326]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1322] Gen. iii. 5.

   [1323] Imaginarium.

   [1324] S. Luke iv. 9.

   [1325] 1 Tim. vi. 10.

   [1326] Cf. Gen. iii. 5 with S. Matt. iv. 6, 8.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   How vainglory and pride can be consummated without any assistance from
   the body.

   And to go on in the order which we proposed, with our account of the
   way in which the other passions act (our analysis of which was obliged
   to be interrupted by this account of gluttony and of the Lord's
   temptation) vainglory and pride can be consummated even without the
   slightest assistance from the body. For in what way do those passions
   need any action of the flesh, which bring ample destruction on the soul
   they take captive simply by its assent and wish to gain praise and
   glory from men? Or what act on the part of the body was there in that
   pride of old in the case of the above mentioned Lucifer; as he only
   conceived it in his heart and mind, as the prophet tells us: "Who
   saidst in thine heart: I will ascend into heaven, I will set my throne
   above the stars of God. I will ascend above the heights of the clouds,
   I will be like the most High." [1327] And just as he had no one to stir
   him up to this pride, so his thoughts alone were the authors of the sin
   when complete and of his eternal fall; especially as no exercise of the
   dominion at which he aimed followed.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1327] Is. xiv. 13, 14.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Of covetousness, which is something outside our nature, and of the
   difference between it and those faults which are natural to us.

   Covetousness and anger, although they are not of the same character
   (for the former is something outside our nature, while the latter seems
   to have as it were its seed plot within us) yet they spring up in the
   same way, as in most instances they find the reasons for their being
   stirred in something outside of us. For often men who are still rather
   weak complain that they have fallen into these sins through irritation
   and the instigation of others, and are plunged headlong into the
   passions of anger and covetousness by the provocation of other people.
   But that covetousness is something outside our nature, we can clearly
   see from this; viz., that it is proved not to have its first starting
   point inside us, nor does it originate in what contributes to keeping
   body and soul together, and to the existence of life. For it is plain
   that nothing belongs to the actual needs and necessities of our common
   life except our daily meat and drink: but everything else, with
   whatever zeal and care we preserve it, is shown to be something
   distinct from the wants of man by the needs of life itself. And so this
   temptation, as being something outside our nature, only attacks those
   monks who are but lukewarm and built on a bad foundation, whereas those
   which are natural to us do not cease from troubling even the best of
   monks and those who dwell in solitude. And so far is this shown to be
   true, that we find that there are some nations who are altogether free
   from this passion of covetousness, because they have never by use and
   custom received into themselves this fault and infirmity. And we
   believe that the old world before the flood was for long ages ignorant
   of the madness of this desire. And in the case of each one of us who
   makes his renunciation of the world a thorough one, we know that it is
   extirpated without any difficulty, if, that is, a man gives up all his
   property, and seeks the monastic discipline in such a way as not to
   allow himself to keep a single farthing. And we can find thousands of
   men to bear witness to this, who in a single moment have given up all
   their property, and have so thoroughly eradicated this passion as not
   to be in the slightest degree troubled by it afterwards, though all
   their life long they have to fight against gluttony, and cannot be safe
   from it without striving with the utmost watchfulness of heart and
   bodily abstinence.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   How dejection and accidie generally arise without any external
   provocation, as in the case of other faults. [1328]

   Dejection and accidie generally arise without any external provocation,
   like those others of which we have been speaking: for we are well aware
   that they often harass solitaries, and those who have settled
   themselves in the desert without any intercourse with other men, and
   this in the most distressing way. And the truth of this any one who has
   lived in the desert and made trial of the conflicts of the inner man,
   can easily prove by experience.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1328] Such is the heading which Gazet gives. Petschenig edits "De ira
   atque tristitia, quod inter accedentia vitia plerumque [non]
   inveniantur;" where "non" is his own insertion, and as he frankly tells
   us, the heading does not suit the chapter.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   How six of these faults are related, and the two which differ from them
   are akin to one another.

   Of these eight faults then, although they are different in their origin
   and in their way of affecting us, yet the six former; viz., gluttony,
   fornication, covetousness, anger, dejection, accidie, have a sort of
   connexion with each other, and are, so to speak, linked together in a
   chain, so that any excess of the one forms a starting point for the
   next. For from superfluity of gluttony fornication is sure to spring,
   and from fornication covetousness, from covetousness anger, from anger,
   dejection, and from dejection, accidie. And so we must fight against
   them in the same way, and with the same methods: and having overcome
   one, we ought always to enter the lists against the next. For a tall
   and spreading tree of a noxious kind will the more easily be made to
   wither if the roots on which it depends have first been laid bare or
   cut; and a pond of water which is dangerous will be dried up at once if
   the spring and flowing channel which produce it are carefully stopped
   up. Wherefore in order to overcome accidie, you must first get the
   better of dejection: in order to get rid of dejection, anger must first
   be expelled: in order to quell anger, covetousness must be trampled
   under foot: in order to root out covetousness, fornication must be
   checked: and in order to destroy fornication, you must chastise the sin
   of gluttony. But the two remaining faults; viz., vainglory and pride,
   are connected together in a somewhat similar way as the others of which
   we have spoken, so that the growth of the one makes a starting point
   for the other (for superfluity of vainglory produces an incentive to
   pride); but they are altogether different from the six former faults,
   and are not joined in the same category with them, since not only is
   there no opportunity given for them to spring up from these, but they
   are actually aroused in an entirely different way and manner. For when
   these others have been eradicated these latter flourish the more
   vigorously, and from the death of the others they shoot forth and grow
   up all the stronger: and therefore we are attacked by these two faults
   in quite a different way. For we fall into each one of those six faults
   at the moment when we have been overcome by the ones that went before
   them; but into these two we are in danger of falling when we have
   proved victorious, and above all after some splendid triumph. In the
   cases then of all faults just as they spring up from the growth of
   those that go before them, so are they eradicated by getting rid of the
   earlier ones. And in this way in order that pride may be driven out
   vainglory must be stifled, and so if we always overcome the earlier
   ones, the later ones will be checked; and through the extermination of
   those that lead the way, the rest of our passions will die down without
   difficulty. And though these eight faults of which we have spoken are
   connected and joined together in the way which we have shown, yet they
   may be more exactly divided into four groups and sub-divisions. For to
   gluttony fornication is linked by a special tie: to covetousness anger,
   to dejection accidie, and to vainglory pride is closely allied.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   Of the origin and character of each of these faults.

   And now, to speak about each kind of fault separately: of gluttony
   there are three sorts: (1) that which drives a monk to eat before the
   proper and stated times; (2) that which cares about filling the belly
   and gorging it with all kinds of food, and (3) that which is on the
   lookout for dainties and delicacies. And these three sorts give a monk
   no little trouble, unless he tries to free himself from all of them
   with the same care and scrupulousness. For just as one should never
   venture to break one's fast before the right time so we must utterly
   avoid all greediness in eating, and the choice and dainty preparation
   of our food: for from these three causes different but extremely
   dangerous conditions of the soul arise. For from the first there
   springs up dislike of the monastery, and thence there grows up disgust
   and intolerance of the life there, and this is sure to be soon followed
   by withdrawal and speedy departure from it. By the second there are
   kindled the fiery darts of luxury and lasciviousness. The third also
   weaves the entangling meshes of covetousness for the nets of its
   prisoners, and ever hinders monks from following the perfect
   self-abnegation of Christ. And when there are traces of this passion in
   us we can recognize them by this; viz., if we are kept to dine by one
   of the brethren we are not content to eat our food with the relish
   which he has prepared and offers to us, but take the unpardonable
   liberty of asking to have something else poured over it or added to it,
   a thing which we should never do for three reasons: (1) because the
   monastic mind ought always to be accustomed to practise endurance and
   abstinence, and like the Apostle, to learn to be content in whatever
   state he is. [1329] For one who is upset by taking an unsavoury morsel
   once and in a way, and who cannot even for a short time overcome the
   delicacy of his appetite will never succeed in curbing the secret and
   more important desires of the body; (2) because it sometimes happens
   that at the time our host is out of that particular thing which we ask
   for, and we make him feel ashamed of the wants and bareness of his
   table, by exposing his poverty which he would rather was only known to
   God; (3) because sometimes other people do not care about the relish
   which we ask for, and so it turns out that we are annoying most of them
   while intent on satisfying the desires of our own palate. And on this
   account we must by all means avoid such a liberty. Of fornication there
   are three sorts: (1) that which is accomplished by sexual intercourse;
   (2) that which takes place without touching a woman, for which we read
   that Onan the son of the patriarch Judah was smitten by the Lord; and
   which is termed by Scripture uncleanness: of which the Apostle says:
   "But I say to the unmarried and to widows, that it is good for them if
   they abide even as I. But if they do not contain let them marry: for it
   is better to marry than to burn;" [1330] (3) that which is conceived in
   heart and mind, of which the Lord says in the gospel: "Whosoever
   looketh on a woman to lust after her hath already committed adultery
   with her in his heart." [1331] And these three kinds the blessed
   Apostle tells us must be stamped out in one and the same way.
   "Mortify," says he, "your members which are upon the earth,
   fornication, uncleanness, lust, etc." [1332] And again of two of them
   he says to the Ephesians: "Let fornication and uncleanness be not so
   much as named among you:" and once more: "But know this that no
   fornicator or unclean person, or covetous person who is an idolater
   hath inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God." [1333] And just
   as these three must be avoided by us with equal care, so they one and
   all shut us out and exclude us equally from the kingdom of Christ. Of
   covetousness there are three kinds: (1) That which hinders renunciants
   from allowing themselves of be stripped of their goods and property;
   (2) that which draws us to resume with excessive eagerness the
   possession of those things which we have given away and distributed to
   the poor; (3) that which leads a man to covet and procure what he never
   previously possessed. Of anger there are three kinds: one which rages
   within, which is called in Greek thumos; another which breaks out in
   word and deed and action, which they term orge: of which the Apostle
   speaks, saying "But now do ye lay aside all anger and indignation;"
   [1334] the third, which is not like those in boiling over and being
   done with in an hour, but which lasts for days and long periods, which
   is called menis. And all these three must be condemned by us with equal
   horror. Of dejection there are two kinds: one, that which springs up
   when anger has died down, or is the result of some loss we have
   incurred or of some purpose which has been hindered and interfered
   with; the other, that which comes from unreasonable anxiety of mind or
   from despair. Of accidie there are two kinds: one of which sends those
   affected by it to sleep; while the other makes them forsake their cell
   and flee away. Of vainglory, although it takes various forms and
   shapes, and is divided into different classes, yet there are two main
   kinds: (1) when we are puffed up about carnal things and things
   visible, and (2) when we are inflamed with the desire of vain praise
   for things spiritual and unseen.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1329] Cf. Phil. iv. 11.

   [1330] 1 Cor. vii. 8, 9.

   [1331] S. Matt. v. 28.

   [1332] Col. iii. 5.

   [1333] Eph. v. 3-5.

   [1334] Col. iii. 8.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   How vainglory may be useful to us.

   But in one matter vainglory is found to be a useful thing for
   beginners. I mean by those who are still troubled by carnal sins, as
   for instance, if, when they are troubled by the spirit of fornication,
   they formed an idea of the dignity of the priesthood, or of reputation
   among all men, by which they may be thought saints and immaculate: and
   so with these considerations they repell the unclean suggestions of
   lust, as deeming them base and at least unworthy of their rank and
   reputation; and so by means of a smaller evil they overcome a greater
   one. For it is better for a man to be troubled by the sin of vainglory
   than for him to fall into the desire for fornication, from which he
   either cannot recover at all or only with great difficulty after he has
   fallen. And this thought is admirably expressed by one of the prophets
   speaking in the person of God, and saying: "For My name's sake I will
   remove My wrath afar off: and with My praise I will bridle thee lest
   thou shouldest perish," [1335] i.e., while you are enchained by the
   praises of vainglory, you cannot possibly rush on into the depths of
   hell, or plunge irrevocably into the commission of deadly sins. Nor
   need we wonder that this passion has the power of checking anyone from
   rushing into the sin of fornication, since it has been again and again
   proved by many examples that when once a man has been affected by its
   poison and plague, it makes him utterly indefatigable, so that he
   scarcely feels a fast of even two or three days. And we have often
   known some who are living in this desert, confessing that when their
   home was in the monasteries of Syria they could without difficulty go
   for five days without food, while now they are so overcome with hunger
   even by the third hour, that they can scarcely keep on their daily fast
   to the ninth hour. And on this subject there is a very neat answer of
   Abbot Macarius [1336] to one who asked him why he was troubled with
   hunger as early as the third hour in the desert, when in the monastery
   he had often scorned food for a whole week, without feeling hungry.
   "Because," said he, "here there is nobody to see your fast, and feed
   and support you with his praise of you: but there you grew fat on the
   notice of others and the food of vainglory." And of the way in which,
   as we said, the sin of fornication is prevented by an attack of
   vainglory, there is an excellent and significant figure in the book of
   Kings, where, when the children of Israel had been taken captive by
   Necho, King of Egypt, Nebuchadnezzar, King of Assyria, came up and
   brought them back from the borders of Egypt to their own country, not
   indeed meaning to restore them to their former liberty and their native
   land, but meaning to carry them off to his own land and to transport
   them to a still more distant country than the land of Egypt in which
   they had been prisoners. And this illustration exactly applies to the
   case before us. For though there is less harm in yielding to the sin of
   vainglory than to fornication, yet it is more difficult to escape from
   the dominion of vainglory. For somehow or other the prisoner who is
   carried off to a greater distance, will have more difficulty in
   returning to his native land and the freedom of his fathers, and the
   prophet's rebuke will be deservedly aimed at him: "Wherefore art thou
   grown old in a strange country? [1337] since a man is rightly said to
   have grown old in a strange country, if he has not broken up the ground
   of his faults. Of pride there are two kinds: (1) carnal, and (2)
   spiritual, which is the worse. For it especially attacks those who are
   seen to have made progress in some good qualities.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1335] Is. xlviii. 9.

   [1336] Cf. note on the Institutes V. xli.

   [1337] Baruch iii. 11.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   Of the different ways in which all these faults assault us.

   Although then these eight faults trouble all sorts of men, yet they do
   not attack them all in the same way. For in one man the spirit of
   fornication holds the chief place: wrath rides rough shod over another:
   over another vainglory claims dominion: in an other pride holds the
   field: and though it is clear that we are all attacked by all of them,
   yet the difficulties come to each of us in very different ways and
   manners.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   Of the struggle into which we must enter against our faults, when they
   attack us.

   Wherefore we must enter the lists against these faults in such a way
   that every one should discover his besetting sin, and direct his main
   attack against it, directing all his care and watchfulness of mind to
   guard against its assault, directing against it daily the weapons of
   fasting, and at all times hurling against it the constant darts of
   sighs and groanings from the heart, and employing against it the
   labours of vigils and the meditation of the heart, and further pouring
   forth to God constant tears and prayers and continually and expressly
   praying to be delivered from its attack. For it is impossible for a man
   to win a triumph over any kind of passion, unless he has first clearly
   understood that he cannot possibly gain the victory in the struggle
   with it by his own strength and efforts, although in order that he may
   be rendered pure he must night and day persist in the utmost care and
   watchfulness. And even when he feels that he has got rid of this fault,
   he should still search the inmost recesses of his heart with the same
   purpose, and single out the worst fault which he can see among those
   still there, and bring all the forces of the Spirit to bear against it
   in particular, and so by always overcoming the stronger passions, he
   will gain a quick and easy victory over the rest, because by a course
   of triumphs the soul is made more vigorous, and the fact that the next
   conflict is with weaker passion insures him a readier success in the
   struggle: as is generally the case with those who are wont to face all
   kinds of wild beasts in the presence of the kings of this world, out of
   consideration for the rewards--a kind of spectacle which is generally
   called "pancarpus." [1338] Such men, I say, direct their first assault
   against whatever beasts they see to be the strongest and fiercest, and
   when they have despatched these, then they can more easily lay low the
   remaining ones, which are not so terrible and powerful. So too, by
   always overcoming the stronger passions, as weaker ones take their
   place, a perfect victory will be secured for us without any risk. Nor
   need we imagine that if any one grapples with one fault in particular,
   and seems too careless about guarding against the attacks of others, he
   will be easily wounded by a sudden assault, for this cannot possibly
   happen. For where a man is anxious to cleanse his heart, and has
   steeled his heart's purpose against the attack of any one fault, it is
   impossible for him not to have a general dread of all other faults as
   well, and take similar care of them. For if a man renders himself
   unworthy of the prize of purity by contaminating himself with other
   faults, how can he possibly succeed in gaining the victory over that
   one passion from which he is longing to be freed? But when the main
   purpose of our heart has singled out one passion as the special object
   of its attack, we shall pray about it more earnestly, and with special
   anxiety and fervour shall entreat that we may be more especially on our
   guard against it and so succeed in gaining a speedy victory. For the
   giver of the law himself teaches us that we ought to follow this plan
   in our conflicts and not to trust in our own power; as he says: "Thou
   shalt not fear them because the Lord thy God is in the midst of thee, a
   God mighty and terrible: He will consume these nations in thy sight by
   little and little and by degrees. Thou wilt not be able to destroy them
   altogether: lest perhaps the beasts of the earth should increase upon
   thee. But the Lord thy God shall deliver them in thy sight; and shall
   slay them until they be utterly destroyed." [1339]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1338] Pancarpus (pankarpos). The word originally applied to an
   offering of all kinds of fruit. Cf. Tertullian ad Valent. xii. It is
   also used in the general sense "of all sorts" by Augustine, Adv.
   Secund. xxiii. Cassian here speaks as if it had become the popular name
   for the conflicts of the gladiators with all kinds of beasts, though
   there is apparently no other authority for this.

   [1339] Deut. vii. 21-23.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   How we can do nothing against our faults without the help of God, and
   how we should not be puffed up by victories over them.

   And that we ought not to be puffed up by victories over them he
   likewise charges us; saying, "Lest after thou hast eaten and art
   filled, hast built goodly houses and dwelt in them, and shalt have
   herds of oxen and flocks of sheep, and plenty of gold and of silver,
   and of all things, thy heart be lifted up and thou remember not the
   Lord thy God, who brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the
   house of bondage; and was thy leader in the great and terrible
   wilderness." [1340] Solomon also says in Proverbs: "When thine enemy
   shall fall be not glad, and in his ruin be not lifted up, lest the Lord
   see and it displease Him, and He turn away His wrath from him," [1341]
   i.e., lest He see thy pride of heart, and cease from attacking him, and
   thou begin to be forsaken by Him and so once more to be troubled by
   that passion which by God's grace thou hadst previously overcome. For
   the prophet would not have prayed in these words, "Deliver not up to
   beasts, O Lord, the soul that confesseth to Thee," [1342] unless he had
   known that because of their pride of heart some were given over again
   to those faults which they had overcome, in order that they might be
   humbled. Wherefore it is well for us both to be certified by actual
   experience, and also to be instructed by countless passages of
   Scripture, that we cannot possibly overcome such mighty foes in our own
   strength, and unless supported by the aid of God alone; and that we
   ought always to refer the whole of our victory each day to God Himself,
   as the Lord Himself also gives us instruction by Moses on this very
   point: "Say not in thine heart when the Lord thy God shall have
   destroyed them in thy sight: For my righteousness hath the Lord brought
   me in to possess this land, whereas these nations are destroyed for
   their wickedness. For it is not for thy righteousness, and the
   uprightness of thine heart, that thou shalt go in to possess their
   lands: but because they have done wickedly they are destroyed at thy
   coming in." [1343] I ask what could be said clearer in opposition to
   that impious notion and impertinence of ours, in which we want to
   ascribe everything that we do to our own free will and our own
   exertions? "Say not," he tells us, "in thine heart, when the Lord thy
   God shall have destroyed them in thy sight: For my righteousness the
   Lord hath brought me in to possess this land." To those who have their
   eyes opened and their ears ready to hearken does not this plainly say:
   When your struggle with carnal faults has gone well for you, and you
   see that you are free from the filth of them, and from the fashions of
   this world, do not be puffed up by the success of the conflict and
   victory and ascribe it to your own power and wisdom, nor fancy that you
   have gained the victory over spiritual wickedness and carnal sins
   through your own exertions and energy, and free will? For there is no
   doubt that in all this you could not possibly have succeeded, unless
   you had been fortified and protected by the help of the Lord.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1340] Deut. viii. 12-15.

   [1341] Prov. xxiv. 17, 18 (LXX.).

   [1342] Ps. lxxiii. (lxxiv.) 19.

   [1343] Deut. ix. 4, 5.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   Of the meaning of the seven nations of whose lands Israel took
   possession, and the reason why they are sometimes spoken of as "seven,"
   and sometimes as "many."

   These are the seven nations whose lands the Lord promised to give to
   the children of Israel when they came out of Egypt. And everything
   which, as the Apostle says, happened to them "in a figure" [1344] we
   ought to take as written for our correction. For so we read: "When the
   Lord thy God shall have brought thee into the land, which thou art
   going in to possess, and shall have destroyed many nations before thee,
   the Hittite, and the Girgashites, and the Amorite, the Canaanite, and
   the Perizzite, and the Hivite, and the Jebusite, seven nations much
   more numerous than thou art and much stronger than thou: and the Lord
   thy God shall have delivered them to thee, thou shalt utterly destroy
   them." [1345] And the reason that they are said to be much more
   numerous, is that faults are many more in number than virtues and so in
   the list of them the nations are reckoned as seven in number, but when
   the attack upon them is spoken of they are set down without their
   number being given, for thus we read "And shall have destroyed many
   nations before thee." For the race of carnal passions which springs
   from this sevenfold incentive and root of sin, is more numerous than
   that of Israel. For thence spring up murders, strifes, heresies,
   thefts, false witness, blasphemy, surfeiting, drunkenness, back-biting,
   buffoonery, filthy conversation, lies, perjury, foolish talking,
   scurrility, restlessness, greediness, bitterness, clamour, wrath,
   contempt, murmuring, temptation, despair, and many other faults, which
   it would take too long to describe. And if we are inclined to think
   these small matters, let us hear what the Apostle thought about them,
   and what was his opinion of them: "Neither murmur ye," says he, "as
   some of them murmured, and were destroyed of the destroyer:" and of
   temptation: "Neither let us tempt Christ as some of them tempted and
   perished by the serpents." [1346] Of backbiting: "Love not backbiting
   lest thou be rooted out." [1347] And of despair: "Who despairing have
   given themselves up to lasciviousness unto the working of all error, in
   uncleanness." [1348] And that clamour is condemned as well as anger and
   indignation and blasphemy, the words of the same Apostle teach us as
   clearly as possible when he thus charges us: "Let all bitterness, and
   anger, and indignation, and clamour, and blasphemy be put away from you
   with all malice," [1349] and many more things like these. And though
   these are far more numerous than the virtues are, yet if those eight
   principal sins, from which we know that these naturally proceed, are
   first overcome, all these at once sink down, and are destroyed together
   with them with a lasting destruction. For from gluttony proceed
   surfeiting and drunkenness. From fornication filthy conversation,
   scurrility, buffoonery and foolish talking. From covetousness, lying,
   deceit, theft, perjury, the desire of filthy lucre, false witness,
   violence, inhumanity, and greed. From anger, murders, clamour and
   indignation. From dejection, rancor, cowardice, bitterness, despair.
   From accidie, laziness, sleepiness, rudeness, restlessness, wandering
   about, instability both of mind and body, chattering, inquisitiveness.
   From vainglory, contention, heresies, boasting and confidence in
   novelties. From pride, contempt, envy, disobedience, blasphemy,
   murmuring, backbiting. And that all these plagues are stronger than we,
   we can tell very plainly from the way in which they attack us. For the
   delight in carnal passions wars more powerfully in our members than
   does the desire for virtue, which is only gained with the greatest
   contrition of heart and body. But if you will only gaze with the eyes
   of the spirit on those countless hosts of our foes, which the Apostle
   enumerates where he says: "For we wrestle not against flesh and blood,
   but against principalities, against powers, against the world-rulers of
   this darkness, against spiritual wickedness in heavenly places," [1350]
   and this which we find of the righteous man in the nineteenth Psalm: "A
   thousand shall fall beside thee and ten thousand at thy right hand,"
   [1351] then you will clearly see that they are far more numerous and
   more powerful than are we, carnal and earthly creatures as we are,
   while to them is given a substance which is spiritual and incorporeal.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1344] Cf. 1 Cor. x. 6.

   [1345] Deut. vii. 1, 2.

   [1346] 1 Cor. x. 9, 10.

   [1347] Prov. xx. 13 (LXX.).

   [1348] Eph. iv. 19.

   [1349] Eph. iv. 31.

   [1350] Ibid., iv. 12.

   [1351] Ps. xc. (xci.) 7.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   A question with regard to the comparison of seven nations with eight
   faults.

   Germanus: How then is it that there are eight faults which assault us,
   when Moses reckons the nations opposed to the people of Israel as
   seven, and how is it well for us to take possession of the territory of
   our faults?
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   Serapion: Everybody is perfectly agreed that there are eight principal
   faults which affect a monk. And all of them are not included in the
   figure of the nations for this reason, because in Deuteronomy Moses, or
   rather the Lord through him, was speaking to those who had already gone
   forth from Egypt and been set free from one most powerful nation, I
   mean that of the Egyptians. And we find that this figure holds good
   also in our case, as when we have got clear of the snares of this world
   we are found to be free from gluttony, i.e., the sin of the belly and
   palate; and like them we have a conflict against these seven remaining
   nations, without taking account at all of the one which has been
   already overcome. And the land of this nation was not given to Israel
   for a possession, but the command of the Lord ordained that they should
   at once forsake it and go forth from it. And for this cause our fasts
   ought to be made moderate, that there may be no need for us through
   excessive abstinence, which results from weakness of the flesh and
   infirmity, to return again to the land of Egypt, i.e., to our former
   greed and carnal lust which we forsook when we made our renunciation of
   this world. And this has happened in a figure, in those who after
   having gone forth into the desert of virtue again hanker after the
   flesh pots over which they sat in Egypt.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   The reason why one nation is to be forsaken, while seven are commanded
   to be destroyed.

   But the reason why that nation in which the children of Israel were
   born, was bidden not to be utterly destroyed but only to have its land
   forsaken, while it was commanded that these seven nations were to be
   completely destroyed, is this: because however great may be the ardour
   of spirit, inspired by which we have entered on the desert of virtues,
   yet we cannot possibly free ourselves entirely from the neighbourhood
   of gluttony or from its service and, so to speak, from daily
   intercourse with it. For the liking for delicacies and dainties will
   live on as something natural and innate in us, even though we take
   pains to cut off all superfluous appetites and desires, which, as they
   cannot be altogether destroyed, ought to be shunned and avoided. For of
   these we read "Take no care for the flesh with its desires." [1352]
   While then we still retain the feeling for this care, which we are
   bidden not altogether to cut off, but to keep without its desires, it
   is clear that we do not destroy the Egyptian nation but separate
   ourselves in a sort of way from it, not thinking anything about
   luxuries and delicate feasts, but, as the Apostle says, being "content
   with our daily food and clothing." [1353] And this is commanded in a
   figure in the law, in this way: "Thou shalt not abhor the Egyptian,
   because thou wast a stranger in his land." [1354] For necessary food is
   not refused to the body without danger to it and sinfulness in the
   soul. But of those seven troublesome faults we must in every possible
   way root out the affections from the inmost recesses of our souls. For
   of them we read: "Let all bitterness and anger and indignation and
   clamour and blasphemy be put away from you with all malice:" and again:
   "But fornication and all uncleanness and covetousness let it not so
   much as be named among you, or obscenity or foolish talking or
   scurrility." [1355] We can then cut out the roots of these faults which
   are grafted into our nature from without while we cannot possibly cut
   off occasions of gluttony. For however far we have advanced, we cannot
   help being what we were born. And that this is so we can show not only
   from the lives of little people like ourselves but from the lives and
   customs of all who have attained perfection, who even when they have
   got rid of incentives to all other passions, and are retiring to the
   desert with perfect fervour of spirit and bodily abnegation, yet still
   cannot do without thought for their daily meal and the preparation of
   their food from year to year.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1352] Rom. xiii. 14.

   [1353] Cf. 1 Tim. vi. 8.

   [1354] Deut. xxiii. 7.

   [1355] Eph. iv. 31; v. 3, 4.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   Of the nature of gluttony, which may be illustrated by the simile of
   the eagle.

   An admirable illustration of this passion, with which a monk, however
   spiritual and excellent, is sure to be hampered, is found in the simile
   of the eagle. For this bird when in its flight on high it has soared
   above the highest clouds, and has withdrawn itself from the eyes of all
   mortals and from the face of the whole earth, is yet compelled by the
   needs of the belly to drop down and descend to the earth and feed upon
   carrion and dead bodies. And this clearly shows that the spirit of
   gluttony cannot be altogether extirpated like all other faults, nor be
   entirely destroyed like them, but that we can only hold down and check
   by the power of the mind all incentives to it and all superfluous
   appetites.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   Of the lasting character of gluttony as described to some philosophers.

   For the nature of this fault was admirably expressed under cover of the
   following puzzle by one of the Elders in a discussion with some
   philosophers, who thought that they might chaff him like a country
   bumpkin because of his Christian simplicity. "My father," said he,
   "left me in the clutches of a great many creditors. All the others I
   have paid in full, and have freed myself from all their pressing
   claims; but one I cannot satisfy even by a daily payment." And when
   they could not see the meaning of the puzzle, and urgently begged him
   to explain it: "I was," said he, "in my natural condition, encompassed
   by a great many faults. But when God inspired me with the longing to be
   free, I renounced this world, and at the same time gave up all my
   property which I had inherited from my father, and so I satisfied them
   all like pressing creditors, and freed myself entirely from them. But I
   was never able altogether to get rid of the incentives to gluttony. For
   though I reduce the quantity of food which I take to the smallest
   possible amount, yet I cannot avoid the force of its daily
   solicitations, but must be perpetually dunned' by it, and be making as
   it were interminable payments by continually satisfying it, and pay
   never ending toll at its demand." Then they declared that this man,
   whom they had till now despised as a booby and a country bumpkin, had
   thoroughly grasped the first principles of philosophy, i.e., training
   in ethics, and they marvelled that he could by the light of nature have
   learnt that which no schooling in this world could have taught him,
   while they themselves with all their efforts and long course of
   training had not learnt this. This is enough on gluttony in particular.
   Now let us return to the discourse in which we had begun to consider
   the general relation of our faults to each other.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   How it was that God foretold to Abraham that Israel would have to drive
   out ten nations.

   When the Lord was speaking with Abraham about the future (a point which
   you did not ask about) we find that He did not enumerate seven nations,
   but ten, whose land He promised to give to his seed. [1356] And this
   number is plainly made up by adding idolatry, and blasphemy, to whose
   dominion, before the knowledge of God and the grace of Baptism, both
   the irreligious hosts of the Gentiles and blasphemous ones of the Jews
   were subject, while they dwelt in a spiritual Egypt. But when a man has
   made his renunciation and come forth from thence, and having by God's
   grace conquered gluttony, has come into the spiritual wilderness, then
   he is free from the attacks of these three, and will only have to wage
   war against those seven which Moses enumerates.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1356] Cf. Gen. xv. 18-21.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIII.

   How it is useful for us to take possession of their lands.

   But the fact that we are bidden for our good to take possession of the
   countries of those most wicked nations, may be understood in this way.
   Each fault has its own especial corner in the heart, which it claims
   for itself in the recesses of the soul, and drives out Israel, i.e.,
   the contemplation of holy and heavenly things, and never ceases to
   oppose them. For virtues cannot possibly live side by side with faults.
   "For what participation hath righteousness with unrighteousness? Or
   what fellowship hath light with darkness?" [1357] But as soon as these
   faults have been overcome by the people of Israel, i.e., by those
   virtues which war against them, then at once the place in our heart
   which the spirit of concupiscence and fornication had occupied, will be
   filled by chastity. That which wrath had held, will be claimed by
   patience. That which had been occupied by a sorrow that worketh death,
   will be taken by a godly sorrow and one full of joy. That which had
   been wasted by accidie, will at once be tilled by courage. That which
   pride had trodden down will be ennobled by humility: and so when each
   of these faults has been expelled, their places (that is the tendency
   towards them) will be filled by the opposite virtues which are aptly
   termed the children of Israel, that is, of the soul that seeth God:
   [1358] and when these have expelled all passions from the heart we may
   believe that they have recovered their own possessions rather than
   invaded those of others.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1357] 2 Cor. vi. 14.

   [1358] Cf. the note on "Against Nestorius" VII. ix.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIV.

   How the lands from which the Canaanites were expelled, had been
   assigned to the seed of Shem.

   For, as an ancient tradition tells us, [1359] these same lands of the
   Canaanites into which the children of Israel were brought, had been
   formerly allotted to the children of Shem at the division of the world,
   and afterward the descendants of Ham wickedly invading them with force
   and violence took possession of them. And in this the righteous
   judgment of God is shown, as He expelled from the land of others these
   who had wrongfully taken possession of them, and restored to those
   others the ancient property of their fathers which had been assigned to
   their ancestors at the division of the world. And we can perfectly well
   see that this figure holds good in our own case. For by nature God's
   will assigned the possession of our heart not to vices but to virtues,
   which, after the fall of Adam were driven out from their own country by
   the sins which grew up, i.e., by the Canaanites; and so when by God's
   grace they are by our efforts and labour restored again to it, we may
   hold that they have not occupied the territory of another, but rather
   have recovered their own country.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1359] The "ancient tradition" to which Cassian here alludes is given
   in the Clementine Recognitions I. xxix., xxx.; and in Epiphanius
   "Heresies," c. lxvi. S: 83, sq., where it is given as an answer to the
   Manichaean objection against the cruelty and injustice of the
   extermination of the Canaanites by the Israelites.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXV.

   Different passages of Scripture on the meaning of the eight faults.

   And in reference to these eight faults we also have the following in
   the gospel: "But when the unclean spirit is gone out from a man, he
   walketh through dry places seeking rest and findeth none. Then he
   saith, I will return to my house from whence I came out: and coming he
   findeth it empty, swept, and garnished: then he goeth and taketh seven
   other spirits worse than himself, and they enter in and dwell there:
   and the last state of that man is made worse than the first." [1360]
   Lo, just as in the former passages we read of seven nations besides
   that of the Egyptians from which the children of Israel had gone forth,
   so here too seven unclean spirits are said to return beside that one
   which we first hear of as going forth from the man. And of this
   sevenfold incentive of sins Solomon gives the following account in
   Proverbs: "If thine enemy speak loud to thee, do not agree to him
   because there are seven mischiefs in his heart;" [1361] i.e., if the
   spirit of gluttony is overcome and begins to flatter you with having
   humiliated it, asking in a sort of way that you would relax something
   of the fervour with which you began, and yield to it something beyond
   what the due limits of abstinence, and measure of strict severity would
   allow, do not you be overcome by its submission, nor return in fancied
   security from its assaults, as you seem to have become for a time freed
   from carnal desires, to your previous state of carelessness or former
   liking for good things. For through this the spirit whom you have
   vanquished is saying "I will return to my house from whence I came
   out," and forthwith the seven spirits of sins which proceed from it
   will prove to you more injurious than that passion which in the first
   instance you overcame, and will presently drag you down to worse kinds
   of sins.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1360] S. Matt. xii. 43-45.

   [1361] Prov. xxvi. 25. (lxx.).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVI.

   How when we have got the better of the passion of gluttony we must take
   pains to gain all the other virtues.

   Wherefore while we are practising fasting and abstinence, we must be
   careful when we have got the better of the passion of gluttony never to
   allow our mind to remain empty of the virtues of which we stand in
   need; but we should the more earnestly fill the inmost recesses of our
   heart with them for fear lest the spirit of concupiscence should return
   and find us empty and void of them, and should not be content to secure
   an entrance there for himself alone, but should bring in with him into
   our heart this sevenfold incentive of sins and make our last state
   worse than the first. For the soul which boasts that it has renounced
   this world with the eight faults that hold sway over it, will
   afterwards be fouler and more unclean and visited with severer
   punishments, than it was when formerly it was at home in the world,
   when it had taken upon itself neither the rules nor the name of monk.
   For these seven spirits are said to be worse than the first which went
   forth, for this reason; because the love of good things, i.e., gluttony
   would not be in itself harmful, were it not that it opened the door to
   other passions; viz, to fornication, covetousness, anger, dejection,
   and pride, which are clearly hurtful in themselves to the soul, and
   domineering over it. And therefore a man will never be able to gain
   perfect purity, if he hopes to secure it by means of abstinence alone,
   i.e., bodily fasting, unless he knows that he ought to practise it for
   this reason that when the flesh is brought low by means of fasting, he
   may with greater ease enter the lists against other faults, as the
   flesh has not been habituated to gluttony and surfeiting.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVII.

   That our battles are not fought with our faults in the same order as
   that in which they stand in the list.

   But you must know that our battles are not all fought in the same
   order, because, as we mentioned that the attacks are not always made on
   us in the same way, each one of us ought also to begin the battle with
   due regard to the character of the attack which is especially made on
   him so that one man will have to fight his first battle against the
   fault which stands third on the list, another against that which is
   fourth or fifth. And in proportion as faults hold sway over us, and the
   character of their attack may demand, so we too ought to regulate the
   order of our conflict, in such a way that the happy result of a victory
   and triumph succeeding may insure our attainment of purity of heart and
   complete perfection.

   Thus far did Abbot Serapion discourse to us of the nature of the eight
   principal faults, and so clearly did he expound the different sorts of
   passions which are latent within us--the origin and connexion of which,
   though we were daily tormented by them, we could never before
   thoroughly understand and perceive--that we seemed almost to see them
   spread out before our eyes as in a mirror.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  VI. Conference of Abbot Theodore. [1362]

    On the Death of the Saints.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   Description of the wilderness, and the question about the death of the
   saints.

   In the district of Palestine near the village of Tekoa which had the
   honour of producing the prophet Amos, [1363] there is a vast desert
   which stretches far and wide as far as Arabia and the dead sea, into
   which the streams of Jordan enter and are lost, and where are the ashes
   of Sodom. In this district there lived for a long while monks of the
   most perfect life and holiness, who were suddenly destroyed by an
   incursion of Saracen robbers: [1364] whose bodies we knew were seized
   upon with the greatest veneration [1365] both by the Bishops of the
   neighbourhood and by the whole populace of Arabia, and deposited among
   the relics of the martyrs, so that swarms of people from two towns met,
   and made terrible war upon each other, and in their struggle actually
   came to blows for the possession of the holy spoil, while they strove
   among themselves with pious zeal as to which of them had the better
   claim to bury them and keep their relics--the one party boasting of
   their vicinity to the place of their abode, the other of the fact that
   they were near the place of their birth. But we were upset by this and
   being disturbed either on our own account or on account of some of the
   brethren who were in no small degree scandalized at it, inquired why
   men of such illustrious merits and of so great virtues should be thus
   slain by robbers, and why the Lord permitted such a crime to be
   committed against his servants, so as to give up into the hands of
   wicked men those who were the admiration of everybody: and so in our
   grief we came to the holy Theodore, a man who excelled in practical
   common sense. For he was living in Cellae, [1366] a place that lies
   between Nitria and Scete, and is five miles distant from the
   monasteries of Nitria, and cut off by eighty intervening miles of
   desert from the wilderness of Scete where we were living. And when we
   had made our complaint to him about the death of the men mentioned
   above, and expressed our surprise at the great patience of God, because
   He suffered men of such worth to be killed in this way, so that those
   who ought to be able by the weight of their sanctity to deliver others
   from trials of this kind, could not save themselves from the hands of
   wicked men (and asked) why it was that God allowed so great a crime to
   be committed against his servants, then the blessed Theodore replied.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1363] Cf. Amos i. 1.

   [1364] Saraceni (Sarakenoi) a name given by the classical geographers
   to a tribe of Arabia Felix, famous for its predatory propensities.
   Jerome speaks of the "mons et desertum Saracenorum quod vocatur Pharan"
   (Liber de situ et nominibus sub voce Choreb) and elsewhere describes
   their predatory habits (Liber Heb. Quaest in Genesim) "Saracenos
   vagos...qui universas gentes...incursant." By the seventh century the
   name had become a merely general term equivalent to Arab, and was
   accordingly adopted and applied indifferently to all the followers of
   Mohammed by the writers of the middle ages (cf. the Dictionary of Greek
   and Roman Geography, sub voce).

   [1365] There is no mention of these martyrs in the so-called
   Martyrologium Hieronymianum, but they are commemorated on May 28, in
   the Roman Martyrology.

   [1366] Cellae, which was, according to the passage before us, between
   the deserts of Scete and Nitria, apparently derived its name from the
   cells of the monks who congregated there. This at least is the
   explanation of the name given by Sozomen (H.E. VI. xxxi.) who speaks of
   a region called kellia, throughout which numerous little dwellings
   (oikemata) are dispersed, whence it obtains its name. Sozomen also
   speaks (c. xxix.) of Macarius as priest of Cellae, a fact which gives
   some ground for conjecturing that Cellae may be identified with Dair
   Abu Makar, one of the four monasteries still existing in the deserts of
   Nitria and Scete, probably founded by the saint whose name it bears
   (Macarius). See A. J. Butler's "Coptic Churches of Egypt," vol. i. c.
   vii.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   Abbot Theodore's answer to the question proposed to him.

   This question often exercises the minds of those who have not much
   faith or knowledge, and imagine that the prizes and rewards of the
   saints (which are not given in this world, but laid up for the future)
   are bestowed in the short space of this mortal life. But we whose hope
   in Christ is not only in this life, for fear lest, as the Apostle says,
   we should be "of all men most miserable" [1367] (because as we receive
   none of the promises in this world we should for our unbelief lose them
   also in that to come) ought not wrongly to follow their ideas, lest
   through ignorance of the true real explanation, we should hesitate and
   tremble and fail in temptation, if we find ourselves given up to such
   men; and should ascribe to God injustice or carelessness about the
   affairs of mankind--a thing which it is almost a sin to
   mention--because He does not protect in their temptations men who are
   living an upright and holy life, nor requite good men with good things
   and evil men with evil things in this world; and so we should deserve
   to fall under the condemnation of those whom the prophet Zephaniah
   rebukes, saying "who say in their hearts the Lord will not do good, nor
   will He do evil:" [1368] or at least be found among those of whom we
   are told that they blaspheme God with such complaints as this: "Every
   one that doeth evil is good in the sight of the Lord, and such please
   Him: for surely where is the God of judgment?" [1369] Adding further
   that blasphemy which is described in the same way in what follows: "He
   laboureth in vain that serveth God, and what profit is it that we have
   kept His ordinances, and walked sorrowful before the Lord? Wherefore
   now we call the proud happy, for they that work wickedness are
   enriched, and they have tempted God, and are preserved." [1370]
   Wherefore that we may avoid this ignorance which is the root and cause
   of this most deadly error, we ought in the first place to know what is
   really good, and what is bad, and so finally if we grasp the true
   scriptural meaning of these words, and not the false popular one, we
   shall escape being deceived by the errors of unbelievers.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1367] 1 Cor. xv. 19.

   [1368] Zeph. i. 12.

   [1369] Mal. ii. 17.

   [1370] Mal. iii. 14, 15.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   Of the three kinds of things there are in the world; viz., good, bad,
   and indifferent.

   Altogether there are three kinds of things in the world; viz., good,
   bad, and indifferent. And so we ought to know what is properly good,
   and what is bad, and what is indifferent, that our faith may be
   supported by true knowledge and stand firm in all temptations. We must
   then believe that in things which are merely human there is no real
   good except virtue of soul alone, which leads us with unfeigned faith
   to things divine, and makes us constantly adhere to that unchanging
   good. And on the other hand we ought not to call anything bad, except
   sin alone, which separates us from the good God, and unites us to the
   evil devil. But those things are indifferent which can be appropriated
   to either side according to the fancy or wish of their owner, as for
   instance riches, power, honour, bodily strength, good health, beauty,
   life itself, and death, poverty, bodily infirmities, injuries, and
   other things of the same sort, which can contribute either to good or
   to evil as the character and fancy of their owner directs. For riches
   are often serviceable for our good, as the Apostle says, who charges
   "the rich of this world to be ready to give, to distribute to the
   needy, to lay up in store for themselves a good foundation against the
   time to come, that" by this means "they may lay hold on the true life."
   [1371] And according to the gospel they are a good thing for those who
   "make to themselves friends of the unrighteous mammon." [1372] And
   again, they can be drawn in the direction of what is bad when they are
   amassed only for the sake of hoarding them or for a life of luxury, and
   are not employed to meet the wants of the poor. And that power also and
   honour and bodily strength and good health are indifferent and
   available for either (good or bad) can easily be shown from the fact
   that many of the Old Testament saints enjoyed all these things and were
   in positions of great wealth and the highest honour, and blessed with
   bodily strength, and yet are known to have been most acceptable to God.
   And on the contrary those who have wrongfully abused these things and
   perverted them for their own purposes are not without good reason
   punished or destroyed, as the Book of Kings shows us has often
   happened. And that even life and death are in themselves indifferent
   the birth of S. John and of Judas proves. For in the case of the one
   his life was so profitable to himself that we are told that his birth
   brought joy to others also, as we read "And many shall rejoice at his
   birth;" [1373] but of the life of the other it is said: "It were good
   for that man if he had never been born." [1374] Further it is said of
   the death of John and of all saints "Right dear in the sight of the
   Lord is the death of His saints:" [1375] but of that of Judas and men
   like him "The death of the wicked is very evil." [1376] And how useful
   bodily sickness sometimes may be the blessing on Lazarus, the beggar
   who was full of sores, shows us. For Scripture makes mention of no
   other good qualities or deserts of his, but it was for this fact alone;
   viz., that he endured want and bodily sickness with the utmost
   patience, that he was deemed worthy of the blessed lot of a place in
   Abraham's bosom. [1377] And with regard to want and persecution and
   injuries which everybody thinks to be bad, how useful and necessary
   they are is clearly proved by this fact; viz., that the saints not only
   never tried to avoid them, but actually either sought them with all
   their powers or bravely endured them, and thus became the friends of
   God, and obtained the reward of eternal life, as the blessed Apostle
   chants: "For which cause I delight myself in my infirmities, in
   reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ.
   For when I am weak, then I am strong, for power is made perfect in
   infirmity." [1378] And therefore those who are exalted with the
   greatest riches and honours and powers of this world, should not be
   deemed to have secured their chief good out of them (for this is shown
   to consist only in virtue) but only something indifferent, because just
   as to good men who use them well and properly they will be found to be
   useful and convenient (for they afford them opportunities for good
   works and fruits which shall endure to eternal life), so to those who
   wrongfully abuse their wealth, they are useless and out of place, and
   furnish occasions of sin and death.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1371] 1 Tim. vi. 17-19.

   [1372] S. Luke xvi. 9.

   [1373] S. Luke i. 14.

   [1374] S. Matt. xxvi. 24.

   [1375] Ps. cxv. 6 (cxvi. 15).

   [1376] Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 32.

   [1377] Cf. S. Luke xvi. 20.

   [1378] 2 Cor. xii. 9, 10.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   How evil cannot be forced on any one by another against his will.

   Preserving then these distinctions clear and fixed, and knowing that
   there is nothing good except virtue alone, and nothing bad except sin
   alone and separation from God, let us now carefully consider whether
   God ever allows evil to be forced on his saints either by Himself or by
   some one else. And you will certainly find that this never happens. For
   another can never possibly force the evil of sin upon anyone, who does
   not consent and who resists, but only on one who admits it into himself
   through sloth and the corrupt desire of his heart. Finally, when the
   devil having exhausted all his wicked devices had tried to force upon
   the blessed Job this evil of sin, and had not only stripped him of all
   his worldly goods, but also after that terrible and utterly unlooked
   for calamity of bereavement through the death of his seven children,
   had heaped upon him dreadful wounds and intolerable tortures from the
   crown of his head to the sole of his foot, he tried in vain to fasten
   on him the stain of sin, because he remained steadfast through it all,
   never brought himself to consent to blasphemy.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   An objection, how God Himself can be said to create evil.

   Germanus: We often read in holy Scripture that God has created evil or
   brought it upon men, as is this passage: "There is none beside Me. I am
   the Lord, and there is none else: I form the light and create darkness,
   I make peace, and create evil." [1379] And again: "Shall there be evil
   in a city which the Lord hath not done?" [1380]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1379] Is. xlv. 6, 7.

   [1380] Amos iii. 6.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   The answer to the question proposed.

   Theodore: Sometimes holy Scripture is wont by an improper use of terms
   to use "evils" for "affliction;" not that these are properly and in
   their nature evils, but because they are imagined to be evils by those
   on whom they are brought for their good. For when divine judgment is
   reasoning with men it must speak with the language and feelings of men.
   For when a doctor for the sake of health with good reason either cuts
   or cauterizes those who are suffering from the inflammation of ulcers,
   it is considered an evil by those who have to bear it. Nor are the spur
   and the whip pleasant to a restive horse. Moreover all chastisement
   seems at the moment to be a bitter thing to those who are chastised, as
   the Apostle says: "Now all chastisement for the present indeed seemeth
   not to bring with it joy but sorrow; but afterwards it will yield to
   them that are exercised by it most peaceable fruits of righteousness,"
   and "whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom
   He receiveth: for what son is there whom the father doth not correct?"
   [1381] And so evils are sometimes wont to stand for afflictions, as
   where we read: "And God repented of the evil which He had said that He
   would do to them and He did it not." [1382] And again: "For Thou, Lord,
   are gracious and merciful, patient and very merciful and ready to
   repent of the evil," [1383] i.e., of the sufferings and losses which
   Thou art forced to bring upon us as the reward of our sins. And another
   prophet, knowing that these are profitable to some men, and certainly
   not through any jealousy of their safety, but with an eye to their
   good, prays thus: "Add evils to them, O Lord, add evils to the haughty
   ones of the earth;" [1384] and the Lord Himself says "Lo, I will bring
   evils upon them," [1385] i.e., sorrows, and losses, with which they
   shall for the present be chastened for their soul's health, and so
   shall be at length driven to return and hasten back to Me whom in their
   prosperity they scorned. And so that these are originally evil we
   cannot possibly assert: for to many they conduce to their good and
   offer the occasions of eternal bliss, and therefore (to return to the
   question raised) all those things, which are thought to be brought upon
   us as evils by our enemies or by any other people, should not be
   counted as evils, but as things indifferent. For in the end they will
   not be what he thinks, who brought them upon us in his rage and fury,
   but what he makes them who endures them. And so when death has been
   brought upon a saint, we ought not to think that an evil has happened
   to him but a thing indifferent; which is an evil to a wicked man, while
   to the good it is rest and freedom from evils. "For death is rest to a
   man whose way is hidden." [1386] And so a good man does not suffer any
   loss from it, because he suffers nothing strange, but by the crime of
   an enemy he only receives (and not without the reward of eternal life)
   that which would have happened to him in the course of nature, and pays
   the debt of man's death, which must be paid by an inevitable law, with
   the interest of a most fruitful passion, and the recompense of a great
   reward.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1381] Heb. xii. 6-11.

   [1382] Jonah iii. 10 (LXX.).

   [1383] Joel ii. 13 (LXX.).

   [1384] Is. xxvi. 15 (LXX.).

   [1385] Jer. xi. 11.

   [1386] Job iii. 23 (LXX.).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   A question whether the man who causes the death of a good man is
   guilty, if the good man is the gainer by his death.

   Germanus: Well then, if a good man does not only suffer no evil by
   being killed, but actually gains a reward from his suffering, how can
   we accuse the man who has done him no harm but good by killing him?
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   The answer to the foregoing question.

   Theodore: We are talking about the actual qualities of things good and
   bad, and what we call indifferent; and not about the characters of the
   men who do these things. Nor ought any bad or wicked man to go
   unpunished because his evil deed was not able to do harm to a good man.
   For the endurance and goodness of a righteous man are of no profit to
   the man who is the cause of his death or suffering, but only to him who
   patiently endures what is inflicted on him. And so the one is justly
   punished for savage cruelty, because he meant to injure him, while the
   other nevertheless suffers no evil, because in the goodness of his
   heart he patiently endures his temptation and sufferings, and so causes
   all those things, which were inflicted upon him with evil intent, to
   turn out to his advantage, and to conduce to the bliss of eternal life.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   The case of Job who was tempted by the devil and of the Lord who was
   betrayed by Judas: and how prosperity as well as adversity is
   advantageous to a good man.

   For the patience of Job did not bring any gain to the devil, through
   making him a better man by his temptations, but only to Job himself who
   endured them bravely; nor was Judas granted freedom from eternal
   punishment, because his act of betrayal contributed to the salvation of
   mankind. For we must not regard the result of the deed, but the purpose
   of the doer. Wherefore we should always cling to this assertion; viz.,
   that evil cannot be brought upon a man by another, unless a man has
   admitted it by his sloth or feebleness of heart: as the blessed Apostle
   confirms this opinion of ours in a verse of Scripture: "But we know
   that all things work together for good to them that love God." [1387]
   But by saying "All things work together for good," he includes
   everything alike, not only things fortunate, but also those which seem
   to be misfortunes: through which the Apostle tells us in another place
   that he himself has passed, when he says: "By the armour of
   righteousness on the right hand and on the left," i.e., "Through honour
   and dishonour, through evil report and good report, as deceivers and
   yet true, as sorrowful but always rejoicing, as needy and yet enriching
   many:" [1388] All those things then which are considered fortunate, and
   are called those "on the right hand," which the holy Apostle designates
   by the terms honour and good report; and those too which are counted
   misfortunes, which he clearly means by dishonour and evil report, and
   which he describes as "on the left hand," become to the perfect man
   "the armour of righteousness," if when they are brought upon him, he
   bears them bravely: because, as he fights with these, and uses those
   very weapons with which he seems to be attacked, and is protected by
   them as by bow and sword and stout shield against those who bring these
   things upon him, he secures the advantage of his patience and goodness,
   and obtains a grand triumph of steadfastness by means of those very
   weapons of his enemies which are hurled against him to kill him; and if
   only he is not elated by success or cast down by failure, but ever
   marches straightforward on the king's highway, and does not swerve from
   that state of tranquillity as it were to the right hand, when joy
   overcomes him, nor let himself be driven so to speak to the left hand,
   when misfortunes overwhelm him, and sorrow holds sway. For "Much peace
   have they that love Thy law, and to them there is no stumbling block."
   [1389] But of those who shift about according to the character and
   changes of the several chances which happen to them, we read: "But a
   fool will change like the moon." [1390] For just as it is said of men
   who are perfect and wise: "To them that love God all things work
   together for good," [1391] so of those who are weak and foolish it is
   declared that "everything is against a foolish man," [1392] for he gets
   no profit out of prosperity, nor does adversity make him any better.
   For it requires as much goodness to bear sorrows bravely, as to be
   moderate in prosperity: and it is quite certain that one who fails in
   one of these, will not bear up under the other. But a man can be more
   easily overcome by prosperity than by misfortunes: for these sometimes
   restrain men against their will and make them humble and through most
   salutary sorrow cause them to sin less, and make them better: while
   prosperity puffs up the mind with soothing but most pernicious
   flatteries and when men are secure in the prospect of their happiness
   dashes them to the ground with a still greater destruction.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1387] Rom. viii. 28.

   [1388] 2 Cor. vi. 7-10.

   [1389] Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 165.

   [1390] Ecclus. xxvii. 11.

   [1391] Rom. viii. 28.

   [1392] Prov. xiv. 7 (LXX.).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   Of the excellence of the perfect man who is figuratively spoken of as
   ambidextrous.

   Those are they then who are figuratively spoken of in holy Scripture as
   amphoterodexion , i.e., ambidextrous, as Ehud is described in the book
   of Judges "who used either hand as the right [1393] hand." And this
   power we also can spiritually acquire, if by making a right and proper
   use of those things which are fortunate, and which seem to be "on the
   right hand," as well as of those which are unfortunate and as we call
   it "on the left hand," we make them both belong to the right side, so
   that whatever turns up proves in our case, to use the words of the
   Apostle, "the armour of righteousness." For we see that the inner man
   consists of two parts, and if I may be allowed the expression, two
   hands, nor can any of the saints do without that which we call the left
   hand: but by means of it the perfection of virtue is shown, where a man
   by skilful use can turn both hands into right hands. And in order to
   make our meaning clearer, the saint has for his right hand his
   spiritual achievements, in which he is found when with fervent spirit
   he gets the better of his desires and passions, when he is free from
   all attacks of the devil, and without any effort or difficulty rejects
   and cuts off all carnal sins, when he is exalted above the earth and
   regards all things present and earthly as light smoke or vain shadows,
   and scorns them as what is about to vanish away, when with an
   overflowing heart he not only longs most intensely for the future but
   actually sees it the more clearly, when he is more effectually fed on
   spiritual contemplations, when he sees heavenly mysteries more brightly
   laid open to him, when he pours forth his prayers to God with greater
   purity and readiness, when he is so inflamed with fervent of spirit as
   to pass with the utmost readiness of soul to things invisible and
   eternal, so as scarcely to believe that he any longer remains in the
   flesh. He has also a left hand, when he is entangled in the toils of
   temptation, when he is inflamed with the heat of desire for carnal
   lusts, when he is set on fire by emotion towards rage and anger, when
   he is overcome by being puffed up with pride or vainglory, when he is
   oppressed by a sorrow that worketh death, when he is shaken to pieces
   by the contrivances and attacks of accidie, and when he has lost all
   spiritual warmth, and grows indifferent with a sort of lukewarmness and
   unreasonable grief so that not only is he forsaken by good and kindling
   thoughts, but actually Psalms, prayer, reading, and retirement in his
   cell all pall upon him, and all virtuous exercises seem by an
   intolerable and horrible loathing to have lost their savour. And when a
   monk is troubled in this way, then he knows that he is attacked "on the
   left hand." Anyone therefore who is not at all puffed up through the
   aid of vainglory by any of those things on the right hand which we have
   mentioned, and who struggles manfully against those on the left hand,
   and does not yield to despair and give in, but rather on the other hand
   seizes the armour of patience to practise himself in virtue--this man
   can use both hands as right hands, and in each action he proves
   triumphant and carries off the prize of victory from that condition on
   the left hand as well as that on the right. Such, we read, was the
   reward which the blessed Job obtained who was certainly crowned (for a
   victory) on the right hand, when he was the father of seven sons and
   walked as a rich and wealthy man, and yet offered daily sacrifices to
   the Lord for their purification, in his anxiety that they might prove
   acceptable and dear to God rather than to himself, when his gates stood
   open to every stranger, when he was "feet to lame and eyes to blind,"
   [1394] when the shoulders of the suffering were kept warm by the wool
   of his sheep, when he was a father to orphans and a husband to widows,
   when he did not even in his heart rejoice at the fall of his enemy. And
   again it was the same man who with still greater virtue triumphed over
   adversity on the left hand, when deprived in one moment of his seven
   sons he was not as a father overcome with bitter grief but as a true
   servant of God rejoiced in the will of his Creator. When instead of
   being a wealthy man he became poor, naked instead of rich, pining away
   instead of strong, despised and contemptible instead of famous and
   honourable, and yet preserved his fortitude of mind unshaken, when,
   lastly, bereft of all his wealth and substance he took up his abode on
   the dunghill, and like some stern executioner of his own body scraped
   with a potsherd the matter that broke out, and plunging his fingers
   deep into his wounds dragged out on every side masses of worms from his
   limbs. And in all this he never fell into despair and blasphemy, nor
   murmured at all against his Creator. Moreover also so little was he
   overcome by such a weight of bitter temptations that the cloak which
   out of all his former property remained to cover his body, and which
   alone could be saved from destruction by the devil because he was
   clothed with it, he rent and cast off, and covered with it his
   nakedness which he voluntarily endured, which the terrible robber had
   brought upon him. The hair of his head too, which was the only thing
   left untouched out of all the remains of his former glory, he shaved
   and cast to his tormentor, and cutting off even that which his savage
   foe had left to him he exulted over him and mocked him with that
   celestial cry of his: "If we have received good at the hand of the
   Lord, should we not also receive evil? Naked came I out of my mother's
   womb, and naked shall I return thither. The Lord gave and the Lord hath
   taken away; as it hath pleased the Lord, so is it done; blessed be the
   name of the Lord." [1395] I should also with good reason call Joseph
   ambidextrous, as in prosperity he was very dear to his father,
   affectionate to his brethren, acceptable to God; and in adversity was
   chaste, and faithful to the Lord, in prison most kind to the prisoners,
   forgetful of wrongs, generous to his enemies; and to his brethren who
   were envious of him and as far as lay in their powers, his murderers,
   he proved not only affectionate but actually munificent. These men then
   and those who are like them are rightly termed amphoterodexion , i.e.,
   ambidextrous. For they can use either hand as the right hand, and
   passing through those things which the Apostle enumerates can fairly
   say: "Through the armour of righteousness on the right hand and on the
   left, through honour and dishonour, through evil report and good
   report, etc." And of this right and left hand Solomon speaks as follows
   in the Song of songs, in the person of the bride: "His left hand is
   under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me." [1396] And while
   this passage shows that both are useful, yet it puts one under the
   head, because misfortunes ought to be subject to the control of the
   heart, since they are only useful for this; viz., to train us for a
   time and discipline us for our salvation and make us perfect in the
   matter of patience. But the right hand she hopes will ever cling to her
   to cherish her and hold her fast in the blessed embrace of the
   Bridegroom, and unite her to him indissolubly. We shall then be
   ambidextrous, when neither abundance nor want affects us, and when the
   former does not entice us to the luxury of a dangerous carelessness,
   while the latter does not draw us to despair, and complaining; but
   when, giving thanks to God in either case alike, we gain one and the
   same advantage out of good and bad fortune. And such that truly
   ambidextrous man, the teacher of the Gentiles, testifies that he
   himself was, when he says: "For I have learnt in whatsoever state I am,
   to be content therewith. I know both how to be brought low and I know
   how to abound: everywhere and in all things I am instructed both to be
   full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all
   things in Him which strengtheneth me." [1397]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1393] Judg. iii. 15, where the LXX. has amphoterodexion.

   [1394] Job xxix. 15.

   [1395] Job ii. 10; i. 21.

   [1396] Cant. ii. 6.

   [1397] Phil. iv. 11-13.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   Of the two kinds of trials, which come upon us in a three-fold way.

   Well then, though we say that trial is twofold, i.e., in prosperity and
   in adversity, yet you must know that all men are tried in three
   different ways. Often for their probation, sometimes for their
   improvement, and in some cases because their sins deserve it. For their
   probation indeed, as we read that the blessed Abraham and Job and many
   of the saints endured countless tribulations; or this which is said to
   the people in Deuteronomy by Moses: "And thou shalt remember all the
   way through which the Lord thy God hath brought thee for forty years
   through the desert, to afflict thee and to prove thee, and that the
   things that were in thy heart might be made known, whether thou wouldst
   keep His Commandments or no:" [1398] and this which we find in the
   Psalms: "I proved thee at the waters of strife." [1399] To Job also:
   "Thinkest thou that I have spoken for any other cause than that thou
   mightest be seen to be righteous?" [1400] But for improvement, when God
   chastens his righteous ones for some small and venial sins, or to raise
   them to a higher state of purity, and delivers them over to various
   trials, that He may purge away all their unclean thoughts, and, to use
   the prophet's word, the "dross," which he sees to have collected in
   their secret parts, and may thus transmit them like pure gold, to the
   judgment to come, as He allows nothing to remain in them for the fire
   of judgment to discover when hereafter it searches them with penal
   torments according to this saying: "Many are the tribulations of the
   righteous." [1401] And: "My son, neglect not the discipline of the
   Lord, neither be thou wearied whilst thou art rebuked by Him. For whom
   the Lord loveth He chastiseth, and scourgeth every son whom He
   receiveth. For what son is there whom the father doth not correct? But
   if ye are without chastisement, whereof all are partakers, then are ye
   bastards, and not sons." [1402] And in the Apocalypse: "Those whom I
   love, I reprove and chasten." [1403] To whom under the figure of
   Jerusalem the following words are spoken by Jeremiah, in the person of
   God: "For I will utterly consume all the nations among which I
   scattered thee: but I will not utterly consume thee: but I will
   chastise thee in judgment, that thou mayest not seem to thyself
   innocent." [1404] And for this life-giving cleansing David prays when
   he says: "Prove me, O Lord, and try me; turn my reins and my heart."
   [1405] Isaiah also, well knowing the value of this trial, says "O Lord,
   correct us but with judgment: not in Thine anger." [1406] And again: "I
   will give thanks to thee, O Lord, for thou wast angry with me: Thy
   wrath is turned away, and Thou hast comforted me." [1407] But as a
   punishment for sins, the blows of trial are inflicted, as where the
   Lord threatens that He will send plagues upon the people of Israel: "I
   will send the teeth of beasts upon them, with the fury of creatures
   that trail upon the ground:" [1408] and "In vain have I struck your
   children: they have not received correction." [1409] In the Psalms
   also: "Many are the scourges of the sinners:" [1410] and in the gospel:
   "Behold thou art made whole: now sin no more, lest a worse thing happen
   unto thee." [1411] We find, it is true, a fourth way also in which we
   know on the authority of Scripture that some sufferings are brought
   upon us simply for the manifestation of the glory of God and His works,
   according to these words of the gospel: "Neither did this man sin nor
   his parents, but that the works of God might be manifested in him:"
   [1412] and again: "This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory
   of God that the Son of God may be glorified by it." [1413] There are
   also other sorts of vengeance, with which some who have overpassed the
   bounds of wickedness are smitten in this life, as we read that Dathan
   and Abiram or Korah were punished, or above all, those of whom the
   Apostle speaks: "Wherefore God gave them up to vile passions and a
   reprobate mind:" [1414] and this must be counted worse than all other
   punishments. For of these the Psalmist says: "They are not in the
   labours of men; neither shall they be scourged like other men." [1415]
   For they are not worthy of being healed by the visitation of the Lord
   which gives life, and by plagues in this world, as "in despair they
   have given themselves over to lasciviousness, unto the working of all
   error unto uncleanness," [1416] and as by hardening their hearts, and
   by growing accustomed and used to sin they have got beyond cleansing in
   this brief life and punishment in the present world: men, who are thus
   reproved by the holy word of the prophet: "I destroyed some of you, as
   God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah, and you were as a firebrand plucked
   out of the burning: yet you returned not to Me, saith the Lord," [1417]
   and Jeremiah: "I have killed and destroyed thy people, and yet they are
   not returned from their ways." [1418] And again: "Thou hast smitten
   them and they have not grieved: Thou hast bruised them and they refused
   to receive correction: they have made their faces harder than the rock,
   they have refused to return." [1419] And the prophet seeing that all
   the remedies of this life will have been applied in vain for their
   healing, and already as it were despairing of their life, declares:
   "The bellows have failed in the fire, the founder hath melted in vain:
   for their wicked deeds are not consumed. Call them reprobate silver,
   for the Lord hath rejected them." [1420] And the Lord thus laments that
   to no purpose has He applied this salutary cleansing by fire to those
   who are hardened in their sins, in the person of Jerusalem crusted all
   over with the rust of her sins, when He says: "set it empty upon
   burning coals, that it may be hot, and the brass thereof may be melted;
   and let the filth of it be melted in the midst thereof. Great pains
   have been taken, and the great rust thereof is not gone out, no not
   even by fire. Thy uncleanness is execrable: because I desired to
   cleanse thee, and thou art not cleansed from thy filthiness." [1421]
   Wherefore like a skilful physician, who has tried all saving cures, and
   sees there is no remedy left which can be applied to their disease, the
   Lord is in a manner overcome by their iniquities and is obliged to
   desist from that kindly chastisement of His, and so denounces them
   saying: "I will no longer be angry with thee, and thy jealousy has
   departed from thee." [1422] But of others, whose heart has not grown
   hard by continuance in sin, and who do not stand in need of that most
   severe and (if I may so call it) caustic remedy, but for whose
   salvation the instruction of the life-giving word is sufficient--of
   them it is said: "I will improve them by hearing of their suffering."
   [1423] We are well aware that there are other reasons also of the
   punishment and vengeance which is inflicted on those who have sinned
   grievously--not to expiate their crimes, nor wipe out the deserts of
   their sins, but that the living may be put in fear and amend their
   lives. And these we plainly see were inflicted on Jeroboam the son of
   Nebat, and Baasha the son of Ahiah, and Ahab and Jezebel, when the
   Divine reproof thus declares: "Behold, I will bring evil upon thee, and
   will cut down thy posterity, and will kill of Ahab every male, and him
   that is shut up and the last in Israel. And I will make thy house like
   the house of Jeroboam the son of Nebat and like the house of Baasha the
   son of Ahiah: for that which thou hast done to provoke Me to anger, and
   for making Israel to sin. The dogs also shall eat Jezebel in the field
   of Jezreel. If Ahab die in the city, the dogs shall eat him: but if he
   die in the field the birds of the air shall eat him," [1424] and this
   which is threatened as the greatest threat of all: "Thy dead body shall
   not be brought to the sepulchre of thy fathers." [1425] It was not that
   this short and momentary punishment would suffice to purge away the
   blasphemous inventions of him who first made the golden calves and led
   to the lasting sin of the people, and their wicked separation from the
   Lord,--or the countless and disgraceful profanities of those others,
   but it was that by their example the fear of those punishments which
   they dreaded might fall on others also, who, as they thought little of
   the future or even disbelieved in it altogether, would only be moved by
   consideration of things present; and that owing to this proof of His
   severity they might acknowledge that there is no lack of care for the
   affairs of men, and for their daily doings, in the majesty of God on
   high, and so through that which they greatly feared might the more
   clearly see in God the rewarder of all their deeds. We find, it is
   true, that even for lighter faults some men have received the same
   sentence of death in this world, as that with which those men were
   punished who, as we said before, were the authors of a blasphemous
   falling away: as happened in the case of the man who gathered sticks on
   the Sabbath, [1426] and in that of Ananias and Sapphira, who through
   the sin of unbelief kept back some portion of their goods: not that the
   guilt of their sins was equal, but because they were the first found
   out in a new kind of transgression, and so it was right that as they
   had given to others an example of sin, so also they should give them an
   example of punishment and of fear, that anyone, who should attempt to
   copy them, might know that (even if his punishment were postponed in
   this life) he would be punished in the same way that they were at the
   trial of the judgment hereafter. And, since in our desire to run
   through the different kinds of trials and punishments we seem to have
   wandered somewhat from our subject, on which we were saying that the
   perfect man will always remain steadfast in either kind of trial, now
   let us return to it once more.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1398] Deut. viii. 2.

   [1399] Ps. lxxx. (lxxxi.) 7.

   [1400] Job xl. 3 (LXX.).

   [1401] Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 19.

   [1402] Heb. xii. 5-8.

   [1403] Rev. iii. 19.

   [1404] Jer. xxx. 11.

   [1405] Ps. xxv. (xxvi.) 2.

   [1406] The passage is not from Isaiah, but from Jer. x. 24.

   [1407] Is. xii. 1.

   [1408] Deut. xxxii. 24.

   [1409] Jer. ii. 30.

   [1410] Ps. xxxi. (xxxii.) 10.

   [1411] S. John v. 14.

   [1412] S. John ix. 3.

   [1413] S. John xi. 4.

   [1414] Rom. i. 26, 28.

   [1415] Ps. lxxii. (lxxiii.) 5.

   [1416] Eph. iv. 19.

   [1417] Amos iv. 11.

   [1418] Jer. xv. 7.

   [1419] Jer. v. 3.

   [1420] Jer. vi. 29, 30.

   [1421] Ezek. xxiv. 11-13.

   [1422] Ezek. xvi. 42.

   [1423] Hos. vii. 12 (LXX.).

   [1424] 1 Kings xxi. 21-24.

   [1425] 1 Kings xiii. 22.

   [1426] Cf. Numb. xv. 32.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   How the upright man ought to be like a stamp not of wax but of hard
   steel.

   And so the mind of the upright man ought not to be like wax or any
   other soft material which always yields to the shape of what presses on
   it, and is stamped with its form and impress and keeps it until it
   takes another shape by having another seal stamped upon it; and so it
   results that it never retains its own form but is turned and twisted
   about to correspond to whatever is pressed upon it. But he should
   rather be like some stamp of hard steel, that the mind may always keep
   its proper form and shape inviolate, and may stamp and imprint on
   everything which occurs to it the marks of its own condition, while
   upon it itself nothing that happens can leave any mark.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   A question whether the mind can constantly continue in one and the same
   condition.

   Germanus: But can our mind constantly preserve its condition unaltered,
   and always continue in the same state?
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   The answer to the point raised by the questioner.

   Theodore: It is needful that one must either, as the Apostle says, "be
   renewed in the spirit of the mind," [1427] and daily advance by
   "pressing forward to those things which are before," [1428] or, if one
   neglects to do this, the sure result will be to go back, and become
   worse and worse. And therefore the mind cannot possibly remain in one
   and the same state. Just as when a man, by pulling hard, is trying to
   force a boat against the stream of a strong current he must either stem
   the rush of the torrent by the force of his arms, and so mount to what
   is higher up, or letting his hands slacken be whirled headlong down
   stream. Wherefore it will be a clear proof of our failure if we find
   that we have gained nothing more, nor should we doubt but that we have
   altogether gone back, whenever we find that we have not advanced
   upwards, because, as I said, the mind of man cannot possibly continue
   in the same condition, nor so long as he is in the flesh will any of
   the saints ever reach the height of all virtues, so that they continue
   unalterable. For something must either be added to them or taken away
   from them, and in no creature can there be such perfection, as not to
   be subject to the feeling of change; as we read in the book of Job:
   "What is man that he should be without spot, and he that is born of a
   woman that he should appear just? Behold among His saints none is
   unchangeable, and the heavens are not pure in His sight." [1429] For we
   confess that God only is unchangeable, who alone is thus addressed by
   the prayer of the holy prophet "But Thou art the same," [1430] and who
   says of Himself "I am God, and I change not," [1431] because He alone
   is by nature always good, always full and perfect, and one to whom
   nothing can ever be added, or from whom nothing can be taken away. And
   so we ought always with incessant care and anxiety to give ourselves up
   to the acquirement of virtue, and constantly to occupy ourselves with
   the practice of it, lest, if we cease to go forward, the result should
   immediately be a going back. For, as we said, the mind cannot continue
   in one and the same condition, I mean without receiving addition to or
   diminution of its good qualities. For to fail to gain new ones, is to
   lose them, because when the desire of making progress ceases, there the
   danger of going back is present.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1427] Eph. iv. 23.

   [1428] Phil. iii. 13.

   [1429] Job xv. 14, 15.

   [1430] Ps. ci. (cii.) 27.

   [1431] Mal. iii. 6.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   How one loses by going away from one's cell.

   And so we ought always to remain shut up in our cell. For whenever a
   man has strayed from it and returns fresh to it and begins again to
   live there he will be upset and disturbed. For if he has let it go he
   cannot without difficulty and pains recover that fixed purpose of mind,
   which he had gained when he remained in his cell; and as through this
   he has gone back, he will not think anything of the advance which he
   has missed, and which he would have secured if he had not allowed
   himself to leave his cell, but he will rather congratulate himself if
   he finds that he has regained that condition from which he fell away.
   For just as time once lost and gone cannot any more be recovered, so
   neither can those advantages which have been missed be restored: for
   whatever earnest purpose of the mind there may be afterwards, it will
   be the profit of the day then present, and the gain that belongs to the
   time that then is, and will not make up for the gain that has been once
   for all lost.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   How even celestial powers above are capable of change.

   But that even the powers above are, as we said, subject to change is
   shown by those who fell from their ranks through the fault of a corrupt
   will. Wherefore we ought not to think that the nature of those is
   unchangeable, who remain in the blessed condition in which they were
   created, simply because they were not in like manner led astray to
   choose the worse part. For it is one thing to have a nature incapable
   of change, and another thing for a man through the efforts of his
   virtue, and by guarding what is good through the grace of the
   unchangeable God, to be kept from change. For everything that is
   secured or preserved by care, can also be lost by carelessness. And so
   we read: "Call no man blessed before his death," [1432] because so long
   as a man is still engaged in the struggle, and if I may use the
   expression, still wrestling--even though he generally conquers and
   carries off many prizes of victory,--yet he can never be free from
   fear, and from the suspicion of an uncertain issue. And therefore God
   alone is called unchangeable and good, as His goodness is not the
   result of effort, but a natural possession, and so He cannot be
   anything but good. No virtue then can be acquired by man without the
   possibility of change, but in order that when it once exists it may be
   continually preserved, it must be watched over with the same care and
   diligence with which it was acquired.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1432] Ecclus. xi. 30.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   That no one is dashed to the ground by a sudden fall.

   But we must not imagine that anyone slips and comes to grief by a
   sudden fall, but that he falls by a hopeless collapse either from being
   deceived by beginning his training badly, or from the good qualities of
   his soul failing through a long course of carelessness of mind, and so
   his faults gaining ground upon him little by little. For "loss goeth
   before destruction, and an evil thought before a fall," [1433] just as
   no house ever falls to the ground by a sudden collapse, but only when
   there is some flaw of long standing in the foundation, or when by long
   continued neglect of its inmates, what was at first only a little drip
   finds its way through, and so the protecting walls are by degrees
   ruined, and in consequence of long standing neglect the gap becomes
   larger, and break away, and in time the drenching storm and rain pours
   in like a river: for "by slothfulness a building is cast down, and
   through the weakness of hands the house shall drop through." [1434] And
   that the same thing happens spiritually to the soul the same Solomon
   thus tells us in other words, when he says: "water dripping drives a
   man out of the house on a stormy day." [1435] Elegantly then does he
   compare carelessness of mind to a roof, and to tiles that have not been
   looked after, through which in the first instance only very slight
   drippings (so to speak) of the passions make their way to the soul: but
   if these are not heeded, as being but small and trifling, then the
   beams of virtues will decay and be carried away by a great tempest of
   sins, through which "on a stormy day," i.e., in the time of temptation,
   the devil's attack will assail us, and the soul will be driven forth
   from the abode of virtue, in which, as long as it preserved all
   watchful diligence, it had remained as in a house that belonged to it.

   And so when we had heard this, we were so immensely delighted with our
   spiritual repast, that the mental pleasure with which we were filled by
   this conference outweighed the sorrow which we had experienced before
   from the death of the saints. For not only were we instructed in things
   about which we had been puzzled, but we also learnt from the raising of
   that question some things, which our understanding had been too small
   for us to ask about.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1433] Prov. xvi. 18 (LXX.).

   [1434] Eccl. x. 18 (LXX.).

   [1435] Prov. xxvii. 15 (LXX.).
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1362] This Abbot Theodore is probably the same person as the one
   mentioned in the Institutes, Book V. cc. xxxiii.-xxxv.; but nothing
   further is known of him, and there is no reason for identifying him
   with any of the other monks of this name of the fourth century.
     __________________________________________________________________

  VII. First Conference of Abbot Serenus.

    On Inconstancy of Mind, and Spiritual Wickedness.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   On the chastity of Abbot Serenus. [1436]

   As we desire to introduce to earnest minds the Abbot Serenus, a man of
   the greatest holiness and continence, and one who answers like a mirror
   to his name, whom we admired above all others with peculiar veneration,
   we think that we only carry out our desire by the attempt to insert his
   conferences in our book. To this man beyond all other virtues, which
   shone forth not merely in his actions and manners, but by God's grace
   in his very look as well, there was granted by a special blessing the
   gift of continence, so that he never felt himself disturbed even by
   natural incitements even in sleep. And how it was that by the
   assistance of God's grace he attained such wondrous purity of the
   flesh, as it seems beyond the conditions of human nature, I think that
   I ought first of all to explain.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1436] Very little is known of Serenus but what is here told. Cf. the
   Vitae Patrum, c. l.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   The question of the aforesaid old man on the state of our thoughts.

   This man then in his prayers by day and night, and in fasts and vigils
   unweariedly entreated for inward chastity of heart and soul, and seeing
   that he had obtained what he wished and prayed for, and that all the
   passions of carnal concupiscence in his heart were dead, was roused as
   it were by the sweetest taste of purity, and inflamed by his zeal for
   chastity towards a yet more ardent desire, and began to apply himself
   to stricter fasts and prayers that the mortification of this passion
   which by God's grace had been granted to his inner man, might be
   extended also so as to include external purity, to such an extent that
   he might no longer be affected by any simple and natural movement, such
   as is excited even in children and infants. And by the experience of
   the gift he had obtained, which he knew he had secured by no merit of
   his labours, but by the grace God, he was the more ardently stimulated
   to obtain this also in like manner, as he believed that God could much
   more easily tear up by the roots this incitement of the flesh, (which
   even by man's art and skill is sometimes destroyed by potions and
   remedies or by the use of the knife) since He had of His own free gift
   conferred that purity of spirit which is a still greater thing, and
   which cannot be acquired by human efforts and exertions. And when with
   unceasing supplications and tears he was applying himself unweariedly
   to the petition he had commenced, there came to him an angel in a
   vision by night, and seemed to open his belly, and to remove from his
   bowels a sort of fiery fleshly humour, and to cast it away, and restore
   everything to its place as before; and "lo" he said, "the incitements
   of your flesh are removed, and you may be sure that you have this day
   obtained that lasting purity of body for which you have faithfully
   asked." It will be enough thus briefly to have told this of the grace
   of God which was granted to this famous man in a special way. But I
   deem it unnecessary to say anything of those virtues which he possessed
   in common with other good men, for fear lest that particular narrative
   on this man's name might seem to deprive others of that which is
   specially mentioned of him. Him therefore, as we were inflamed with the
   greatest eagerness for conference with and instruction from him, we
   arranged to visit in Lent; and when he had very quietly inquired of us
   of the character of our thoughts and the state of our inner man, and
   what help we had got towards its purity from our long stay in the
   desert, we approached him with these complaints:
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   Our answer on the fickle character of our thoughts.

   The time spent here, and the dwelling in solitude, and meditation,
   through which you think that we ought to have attained perfection of
   the inner man, has only done this for us; viz., teach us that which we
   are unable to be, without making us what we are trying to be. Nor do we
   feel that by this knowledge we have acquired any fixed steadfastness of
   the purity which we long for, or any strength and firmness; but only an
   increase of confusion and shame: for though our meditation in all our
   discipline aims at this in our daily studies, and endeavours from
   trembling beginnings to reach a sure and unwavering skill, and to begin
   to know something of what originally it knew but vaguely or was
   altogether ignorant of, and by advancing by sure steps (so to speak)
   towards the condition of that discipline, to habituate itself perfectly
   to it without any difficulty, I find on the contrary that while I am
   struggling in this desire for purity, I have only got far enough to
   know what I cannot be. And hence I feel that nothing but trouble
   results to me from all this contrition of heart, so that matter for
   tears is never wanting, and yet I do not cease to be what I ought not
   to be. And so what is the good of having learnt what is best, if it
   cannot be attained even when known? for when we have been feeling that
   the aim of our heart was directed towards what we purposed, insensibly
   the mind returns to its previous wandering thoughts and slips back with
   a more violent rush, and is taken up with daily distractions and
   incessantly drawn away by numberless things that take it captive, so
   that we almost despair of the improvement which we long for, and all
   these observances seem useless. Since the mind which every moment
   wanders off vaguely, when it is brought back to the fear of God or
   spiritual contemplation, before it is established in it, darts off and
   strays; and when we have been roused and have discovered that it has
   wandered from the purpose set before it, and want to recall it to the
   meditation from which it has strayed, and to bind it fast with the
   firmest purpose of heart, as if with chains, while we are making the
   attempt it slips away from the inmost recesses of the heart swifter
   than a snake. Wherefore we being inflamed by daily exercises of this
   kind, and yet not seeing that we gain from them any strength and
   stability in heart are overcome and in despair driven to this opinion;
   viz., to believe that it is from no fault of our own but from a fault
   of our nature that these wanderings of mind are found in mankind.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   The discourse of the old man on the state of the soul and its
   excellence.

   Serenus: It is dangerous to jump to a conclusion and lay down the law
   hastily on the nature of anything before you have properly discussed
   the subject and considered its true character. Nor should you, looking
   only at your own weakness, hazard a conjecture instead of pronouncing a
   judgment based on the character and value of the practice itself, and
   others' experience of it. For if anyone, who was ignorant of swimming
   but knew that the weight of his body could not be supported by water,
   wished from the proof which his inexperience afforded, to lay down that
   no one composed of solid flesh could possibly be supported on the
   liquid element, we ought not therefore to think his opinion a true one,
   which he seemed to bring forward in accordance with his own experience,
   since this can be shown to be not merely not impossible but actually
   extremely easily done by others, by the clearest proofs and ocular
   demonstration. And so the nous, i.e., the mind, is defined as
   aeikinetos kai polukinetos, i.e., ever shifting and very shifting: as
   it is thus described in the so called wisdom of Solomon in other words:
   kai geodes skenos brithei noun poluphrontida , i.e., "And the earthly
   tabernacle weigheth down the mind that museth on many things." [1437]
   This then in accordance with its nature can never remain idle, but
   unless provision is made where it may exercise its motions and have
   what will continually occupy it, it must by its own fickleness wander
   about and stray over all kinds of things until, accustomed by long
   practice and daily use--in which you say that you have toiled without
   result--it tries and learns what food for the memory it ought to
   prepare, toward which it may bring back its unwearied flight and
   acquire strength for remaining, and thus may succeed in driving away
   the hostile suggestion of the enemy by which it is distracted, and in
   persisting in that state and condition which it yearns for. We ought
   not then to ascribe this wandering inclination of our heart either to
   human nature or to God its Creator. For it is a true statement of
   Scripture, that "God made man upright; but they themselves found out
   many thoughts." [1438] The character of these then depends on us
   ourselves, for it says "a good thought comes near to those that know
   it, but a prudent man will find it." [1439] For where anything is
   subject to our prudence and industry so that it can be found out, there
   if it is not found out, we ought certainly to set it down to our own
   laziness or carelessness and not to the fault of our nature. And with
   this meaning the Psalmist also is in agreement, when he says: "Blessed
   is the man whose help is from Thee: in his heart he hath disposed his
   ascents." [1440] You see then that it lies in our power to dispose in
   our hearts either ascents, i.e., thoughts that belong to God, or
   descents; viz., those that sink down to carnal and earthly things. And
   if this was not in our power the Lord would not have rebuked the
   Pharisees, saying "Why do ye think evil in your hearts?" [1441] nor
   would He have given this charge by the prophet, saying: "Take away the
   evil of your thoughts from mine eyes;" and "How long shall wicked
   thoughts remain in you?" [1442] Nor would the character of them as of
   our works be taken into consideration in the day of judgment in our
   case as the Lord threatens by Isaiah: "Lo, I come to gather together
   their works and thoughts together with all nations and tongues;" [1443]
   nor would it be right that we should be condemned or defended by their
   evidence in that terrible and dreadful examination, as the blessed
   Apostle says: "Their thoughts between themselves accusing or also
   defending one another, in the day when God shall judge the secrets of
   men according to my gospel." [1444]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1437] Wisdom ix. 15.

   [1438] Eccl. vii. 29 (LXX.).

   [1439] Prov. xix. 7 (LXX.).

   [1440] Ps. lxxxiii. (lxxxiv.) 6.

   [1441] S. Matt. ix. 4.

   [1442] Is. i. 16; Jer. iv. 14.

   [1443] Is. lxvi. 18.

   [1444] Rom. ii. 15, 16.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   On the perfection of the soul, as drawn from the comparison of the
   Centurion in the gospel.

   Of this perfect mind then there is an excellent figure drawn in the
   case of the centurion in the gospel; whose virtue and consistency,
   owing to which he was not led away by the rush of thoughts, but in
   accordance with his own judgment either admitted such as were good, or
   easily drove away those of the opposite character, are described in
   this tropical form: "For I also am a man under authority, having
   soldiers under me: and I say to this man, Go, and he goeth; and to
   another, Come, and he cometh; and to my servant, Do this, and he doeth
   it." [1445] If then we too strive manfully against disturbances and
   sins and can bring them under our own control and discretion, and fight
   and destroy the passions in our flesh, and bring under the sway of
   reason the swarm of our thoughts, and drive back from our breast the
   terrible hosts of the powers opposed to us by the life-giving standard
   of the Lord's cross, we shall in reward for such triumphs be promoted
   to the rank of that centurion spiritually understood, who, as we read
   in Exodus, was mystically pointed to by Moses: "Appoint for thee rulers
   of thousands, and of hundreds, and of fifties and of tens." [1446] And
   so we too when raised to the height of this dignity shall have the same
   right and power to command, so that we shall not be carried away by
   thoughts against our will, but shall be able to continue in and cling
   to those which spiritually delight us, commanding the evil suggestions
   to depart, and they will depart, while to good ones we shall say
   "Come," and they will come: and to our servant also, i.e., the body, we
   shall in like manner enjoin what belongs to chastity and continence,
   and it will serve us without any gainsaying, no longer arousing in us
   the hostile incitements of concupiscence, but showing all subservience
   to the spirit. And what is the character of the arms of this centurion,
   and for what use in battle they are, hear the blessed Apostle
   declaring: "The arms," he says "of our warfare are not carnal, but
   mighty to God." He tells us their character; viz., that they are not
   carnal or weak, but spiritual and mighty to God. Then he next suggests
   in what struggles they are to be used: "Unto the pulling down of
   fortifications, purging the thoughts, and every height that exalteth
   itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every
   understanding unto the obedience of Christ, and having in readiness to
   avenge all disobedience, when your obedience shall be first fulfilled."
   [1447] And since though useful, it yet belongs to another time to run
   through these one by one, I only want you to see the different sorts of
   these arms and their characteristics, as we also ought always to walk
   with them girt upon us if we mean to fight the Lord's battles and to
   serve among the centurions of the gospel. "Take," he says "the shield
   of faith, wherewith ye may be able to quench all the fiery darts of the
   evil one." [1448] Faith then is that which intercepts the flaming darts
   of lust, and destroys them by the fear of future judgment, and belief
   in the heavenly kingdom. "And the breastplate," he says, "of charity."
   [1449] This indeed is that which going round the vital parts of the
   breast and protecting what is exposed to the deadly wounds of swelling
   thoughts, keeps off the blows opposed to it, and does not allow the
   darts of the devil to penetrate to our inner man. For it "endureth all
   things, suffereth all things, beareth all things." [1450] "And for an
   helmet the hope of salvation." [1451] The helmet is what protects the
   head. As then Christ is our head, we ought always in all temptations
   and persecutions to protect it with the hope of future good things to
   come, and especially to keep faith in Him whole and undefiled. For it
   is possible for one who has lost other parts of the body, weak as he
   may be, still to survive: but even a short time of living is extended
   to no one without a head. "And the sword of the Spirit which is the
   word of God." [1452] For it is "sharper than any two-edged sword, and
   piercing even to the dividing of soul and spirit, and of the joints and
   marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart:"
   [1453] as it divides and cuts off whatever carnal and earthly things it
   may find in us. And whosoever is protected by these arms will ever be
   defended from the weapons and ravages of his foes, and will not be led
   away bound in the chains of his spoilers, a captive and a prisoner, to
   the hostile land of vain thoughts, nor hear the words of the prophet:
   "Why art thou grown old in a strange country?" [1454] But he will stand
   like a triumphant conqueror in the land of thoughts which he has
   chosen. Would you understand too the strength and courage of this
   centurion, by which he bears these arms of which we spoke before as not
   carnal but mighty to God? Hear of the selection by which the King
   himself marks and approves brave men when he summons them to the
   spiritual combat. "Let," says He, "the weak say that I am strong;" and:
   "Let him who is the sufferer become a warrior." [1455] You see then
   that none but sufferers and weak people can fight the Lord's battles,
   weak indeed with that weakness, founded on which that centurion of ours
   in the gospel said with confidence: "For when I am weak, then am I
   strong," and again, "for strength is made perfect in weakness." [1456]
   Of which weakness one of the prophets says: "And he that is weak among
   them shall be as the house of David." [1457] For the patient sufferer
   shall fight these wars, with that patience of which it is said
   "patience is necessary for you that doing the will of God you may
   receive the reward." [1458]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1445] S. Matt. viii. 9.

   [1446] Exod. viii. 21.

   [1447] 1 Cor. x. 4-6.

   [1448] Eph. vi. 16.

   [1449] 1 Thess. v. 8.

   [1450] 1 Cor. xiii. 7.

   [1451] 1 Thess. v. 8.

   [1452] Eph. vi. 17.

   [1453] Heb. iv. 12.

   [1454] Baruch iii. 11.

   [1455] Joel ii. 10, 11 (LXX.).

   [1456] 2 Cor. xii. 9, 10.

   [1457] Zech. xii. 8.

   [1458] Heb. x. 36.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   Of perseverance as regards care of the thoughts.

   But we shall find out by our own experience that we can and ought to
   cling to the Lord if we have our wills mortified and the desires of
   this world cut off, and we shall be taught by the authority of those
   who in converse with the Lord say in all confidence: "My soul hath
   stuck close to Thee;" and: "I have stuck unto Thy testimonies, O Lord;"
   and: "It is good for me to stick fast to God;" and: "He who cleaveth to
   the Lord, is one spirit." [1459] We ought not then to be wearied out by
   these wanderings of mind and relax from our fervour: for "he that
   tilleth his ground shall be filled with bread: but he that followeth
   idleness shall be filled with poverty." [1460] Nor should we be drawn
   away from being intent on this watchfulness through a dangerous
   despair, for "in every one who is anxious there is abundance, for he
   who is pleasant and free from grief will be in want;" and again: "a man
   in grief labours for himself, and forcibly brings about his own
   destruction." [1461] Moreover also: "the kingdom of heaven suffereth
   violence and the violent take it by force," [1462] for no virtue is
   acquired without effort, nor can anyone attain to that mental stability
   which he desires without great sorrow of heart, for "man is born to
   trouble," [1463] and in order that he may be able to attain to "the
   perfect man, the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ"
   [1464] he must ever be on the watch with still greater intentness, and
   toil with ceaseless carefulness. But to the fulness of this measure no
   one will ever attain, but one who has considered it beforehand and been
   trained to it now and has had some foretaste of it while still in this
   world, and being marked a most precious member of Christ, has possessed
   in the flesh an earnest of that "joint" [1465] by which he can be
   united to His body: desiring one thing alone, thirsting for but one
   thing, ever bringing not only his acts but even his thoughts to bear on
   one thing alone; viz., that he may even now keep as an earnest that
   which is said of the blessed life of the saints hereafter; viz., that
   "God may be" to him "all in all." [1466]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1459] Ps. xlii. (lxiii.) 9; cxviii. (cxix.) 31; lxxi. (lxxiii.) 28; 1
   Cor. vi. 17.

   [1460] Prov. xxviii. 19.

   [1461] Prov. xiv. 23; xvi. 26 (LXX.).

   [1462] S. Matt. xi. 12.

   [1463] Job v. 7.

   [1464] Eph. iv. 13.

   [1465] Ibid.

   [1466] 1 Cor. xv. 28.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   A question on the roving tendency of the mind and the attacks of
   spiritual wickedness.

   Germanus: Perhaps this tendency of the mind to rove might to some
   extent be checked were it not that so great a swam of enemies
   surrounded it, and ceaselessly urged it toward what it has no wish for,
   or rather whither the roving character of its own nature drives it. And
   since such numberless foes, and those so powerful and terrible,
   surround it, we should not fancy that it was possible for them to be
   withstood especially by this weak flesh of ours, were we not encouraged
   to this view by your words as if by oracles from heaven.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   The answer on the help of God and the power of free will.

   Serenus: No one who has experienced the conflicts of the inner man, can
   doubt that our foes are continually lying in wait for us. But we mean
   that they oppose our progress in such a way that we can think of them
   as only inciting to evil things and not forcing. But no one could
   altogether avoid whatever sin they were inclined to imprint upon our
   hearts, if a strong impulse was present to force (evil) upon us, just
   as it is to suggest it. Wherefore as there is in them ample power of
   inciting, so in us there is a supply of power of rejection, and of
   liberty of acquiescing. But if we are afraid of their power and
   assaults, we may also claim the protection and assistance of God
   against them, of which we read: "For greater is He who is in us than he
   who is in this world:" [1467] and His aid fights on our side with much
   greater power than their hosts fight against us; for God is not only
   the suggester of what is good, but the maintainer and insister of it,
   so that sometimes He draws us towards salvation even against our will
   and without our knowing it. It follows then that no one can be deceived
   by the devil but one who has chosen to yield to him the consent of his
   own will: as Ecclesiastes clearly puts it in these words: "For since
   there is no gainsaying by those who do evil speedily, therefore the
   heart of the children of men is filled within them to do evil." [1468]
    It is therefore clear that each man goes wrong from this; viz., that
   when evil thoughts assault him he does not immediately meet them with
   refusal and contradiction, for it says: "resist him, and he will flee
   from you." [1469]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1467] 1 John iv. 4.

   [1468] Eccl. viii. 11 (LXX.).

   [1469] S. James iv. 7.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   A question on the union of the soul with devils.

   Germanus: What, I pray you, is that indiscriminate and common union of
   the soul with those evil spirits, by which it is possible for them to
   be (I will not say joined with but) united to it in such a way that
   they can imperceptibly talk with it, and find their way into it and
   suggest to it whatever they want, and incite it to whatever they like,
   and look into and see its thoughts and movements; and the result is so
   close a union between them and the soul that it is almost impossible
   without God's grace to distinguish between what results from their
   instigation, and what from our free will.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   The answer how unclean spirits are united with human souls.

   Serenus: It is no wonder that spirit can be imperceptibly joined with
   spirit, and exercise an unseen power of persuasion toward what is
   allowed to it. For there is between them (just as between men) some
   sort of similarity and kinship of substance, since the description
   which is given of the nature of the soul, applies equally well to their
   substance. But it is impossible for spirits to be implanted in spirits
   inwardly or united with them in such a way that one can hold the other;
   for this is the true prerogative of Deity alone, which is the only
   simple and incorporeal nature.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   An objection whether unclean spirits can be present in or united with
   the souls of those whom they have filled.

   Germanus: To this idea we think that what we see happen in the case of
   those possessed is sufficiently opposed, when they say and do what they
   know not under the influence of the spirits. How then are we to refuse
   to believe that their souls are not united to those spirits, when we
   see them made their instruments, and (forsaking their natural
   condition) yielding to their movements and moods, in such a way that
   they give expression no longer to their own words and actions and
   wishes, but to those of the demons?
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   The answer how it is that unclean spirits can lord it over those
   possessed.

   Serenus: What you speak of as taking place in the case of demoniacs is
   not opposed to our assertion; viz., that those possessed by unclean
   spirits say and do what they do not want to, and are forced to utter
   what they know not; for it is perfectly clear that they are not subject
   to the entrance of the spirits all in the same way: for some are
   affected by them in such a way as to have not the slightest conception
   of what they do and say, while others know and afterwards recollect it.
   But we must not imagine that this is done by the infusion of the spirit
   in such a way that it penetrates into the actual substance of the soul
   and, being as it were united to it and somehow clothed with it, utters
   words and sayings through the mouth of the sufferer. For we ought not
   to believe that this can possibly be done by them. For we can clearly
   see that this results from no loss of the soul but from weakness of the
   body, when the unclean spirit seizes on those members in which the
   vigour of the soul resides, and laying on them an enormous and
   intolerable weight overwhelms it with foulest darkness, and interferes
   with its intellectual powers: as we see sometimes happen also from the
   fault of wine and fever or excessive cold, and other indispositions
   affecting men from without; and it was this which the devil was
   forbidden to attempt to inflict on the blessed Job, though he had
   received power over his flesh, when the Lord commanded him saying: "Lo,
   I give him into thine hands: only preserve his soul," [1470] i.e., do
   not weaken the seat of his soul and make him mad, and overpower the
   understanding and wisdom of what remains, by smothering the ruling
   power in his heart with your weight.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1470] Job ii. 6 (LXX.).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   How spirit cannot be penetrated by spirit, and how God alone is
   incorporeal.

   For even if spirit is mingled with this crass and solid matter; viz.,
   flesh (as very easily happens), should we therefore believe that it can
   be united to the soul, which is in like manner spirit, in such a way as
   to make it also receptive in the same way of its own nature: a thing
   which is possible to the Trinity alone, which is so capable of
   pervading every intellectual nature, that it cannot only embrace and
   surround it but even insert itself into it and, incorporeal though it
   is, be infused into a body? For though we maintain that some spiritual
   natures exist, such as angels, archangels and the other powers, and
   indeed our own souls and the thin air, yet we ought certainly not to
   consider them incorporeal. For they have in their own fashion a body in
   which they exist, though it is much finer than our bodies are, in
   accordance with the Apostle's words when he says: "And there are bodies
   celestial, and bodies terrestrial:" and again: "It is sown a natural
   body, it is raised a spiritual body;" [1471] from which it is clearly
   gathered that there is nothing incorporeal but God alone, and therefore
   it is only by Him that all spiritual and intellectual substances can be
   pervaded, because He alone is whole and everywhere and in all things,
   in such a way as to behold and see the thoughts of men and their inner
   movements and all the recesses of the soul; since it was of Him alone
   that the blessed Apostle spoke when he said: "For the word of God is
   quick and powerful and sharper than any two-edged sword, and piercing
   even to the dividing of soul and spirit and of the joints and marrow;
   and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart; and there
   is no creature invisible in His sight, but all things are naked and
   open to His eyes." [1472] And the blessed David says: "Who fashioneth
   their hearts one by one;" and again: "For He knoweth the secrets of the
   heart;" [1473] and Job too: "Thou who alone knowest the hearts of men."
   [1474]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1471] 1 Cor. xv. 40, 44.

   [1472] Heb. iv. 12, 13.

   [1473] Ps. xxxii. (xxxiii.) 15; xliii. (xliv.) 22.

   [1474] 2 Chron. vi. 30.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   An objection, as to how we ought to believe that devils see into the
   thoughts of men.

   Germanus: In this way, which you describe, those spirits cannot
   possibly see into our thoughts. But we think it utterly absurd to hold
   such an opinion, when Scripture says: "If the spirit of him that hath
   power ascend upon thee;" [1475] and again: "When the devil had put it
   into the heart of Simon Iscariot to betray the Lord." [1476] How then
   can we believe that our thoughts are not open to them, when we feel
   that for the most part they spring up and are nursed by their
   suggestions and instigation?
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1475] Eccl. x. 4.

   [1476] S. John xiii. 2.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   The answer what devils can and what they cannot do in regard to the
   thoughts of men.

   Serenus: Nobody doubts that unclean spirits can influence the character
   of our thoughts, but this is by affecting them from without by sensible
   influences, i.e., either from our inclinations or from our words, and
   those likings to which they see that we are especially disposed. But
   they cannot possibly come near to those which have not yet come forth
   from the inmost recesses of the soul. And the thoughts too, which they
   suggest, whether they are actually or in a kind of way embraced, are
   discovered by them not from the nature of the soul itself, i.e., that
   inner inclination which lies concealed so to speak in the very marrow,
   but from motions and signs given by the outward man, as for example,
   when they suggest gluttony, if they have seen a monk raising his eyes
   anxiously to the window or to the sun, or inquiring eagerly what
   o'clock it is, they know that he has admitted the feeling of
   greediness. If when they suggest fornication they find him calmly
   submitting to the attack of lust, or see him perturbed in body, or at
   any rate not groaning as he ought under the wantonness of an impure
   suggestion, they know that the dart of lust is already fixed in his
   very soul. If they stir up incitements to grief, or anger, or rage,
   they can tell whether they have taken root in the heart by the
   movements of the body, and visible disturbances, when, for instance,
   they have noticed him either groaning silently, or panting with
   indignation or changing colour; and so they cunningly discover the
   fault to which he is given over. For they know that every one of us is
   enticed in a regular way by that one, to the incitement of which they
   see, by a sort of assenting motion of the body, that he has yielded his
   consent and agreement. And it is no wonder that this is discovered by
   those powers of the air, when we see that even clever men can often
   discover the state of the inner man from his mien and look and external
   bearing. How much more surely then can this be discovered by those who
   as being of a spiritual nature are certainly much more subtle and
   cleverer than men.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   An illustration showing how we are taught that unclean spirits know the
   thoughts of men.

   For just as some thieves are in the habit of examining the concealed
   treasures of the men in those houses which they mean to rob, and in the
   dark shades of night sprinkle with careful hands little grains of sand
   and discover the hidden treasures which they cannot see by the tinkling
   sound with which they answer to the fall of the sand, and so arrive at
   certain knowledge of each thing and metal, which betrays itself in a
   way by the voice elicited from it; so these too, in order to explore
   the treasures of our heart, scatter over us the sand of certain evil
   suggestions, and when they see some bodily affection arise
   corresponding to their character, they recognize as if by a sort of
   tinkling sound proceeding from the inmost recesses, what it is that is
   stored up in the secret chamber of the inner man.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   On the fact that not every devil has the power of suggesting every
   passion to men.

   But we ought to know this, that not all devils can implant all the
   passions in men, but that certain spirits brood over each sin, and that
   some gloat over uncleanness and filthy lusts, others over blasphemy,
   others are more particularly devoted to anger and wrath, others thrive
   on gloominess, others are pacified with vainglory and pride; and each
   one implants in the hearts of men that sin, in which he himself revels,
   and they cannot implant their special vices all at one time, but in
   turn, according as the opportunity of time or place, or a man, who is
   open to their suggestions, excites them.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   A question whether among the devils there is any order observed in the
   attack, or system in its changes.

   Germanus: Must we then believe that wickedness is arranged and so to
   speak systematized among them in such a way that there is some order in
   the changes observed by them, and a regular plan of attack carried out,
   though it is clear that method and system can only exist among good and
   upright men, as Scripture says: "Thou shalt seek wisdom among the
   ungodly and shalt not find it; and: "our enemies are senseless;" and
   this: "There is neither wisdom, nor courage, nor counsel among the
   ungodly." [1477]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1477] Prov. xiv. 6; Deut. xxxii. 31; Prov. xxi. 30 (LXX.).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   The answer how far an agreement exists among devils about the attack
   and its changes.

   Serenus: It is a true assertion that there is no lasting concord among
   bad men, and that perfect harmony cannot exist even in regard to those
   particular faults which have attractions for them all in common. For,
   as you have said, it can never be that system and discipline are
   preserved among undisciplined things. But in some matters, where
   community of interests, and necessity enforces it, or participation in
   some gain recommends it, they must arrange for some agreement for the
   time being. And we see very clearly that this is so in the case of this
   war of spiritual wickedness; so that not only do they observe times and
   changes among themselves, but actually are known specially to occupy
   some particular spots and to haunt them persistently: for since they
   must make their attacks through certain fixed temptations and well
   defined sins, and at particular times, we clearly infer from this that
   no one can at one and at the same time be deluded by the emptiness of
   vainglory and inflamed by the lust of fornication, nor at one and the
   same time be puffed up by the outrageous haughtiness of spiritual
   pride, and subject to the humiliation of carnal gluttony. Nor can
   anyone be overcome by silly giggling and laughter and at the same time
   be excited by the stings of anger, or at any rate filled with the pains
   of gnawing grief: but all the spirits must one by one advance to attack
   the soul, in such a way that when one has been vanquished and
   retreated, he must make way for another spirit to attack it still more
   vehemently, or if he has come forth victorious, he will none the less
   hand it over to be deceived by another.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   Of the fact that opposite powers are not of the same boldness, and that
   the occasions of temptation are not under their control.

   We ought also not to be ignorant of this, that they have not all the
   same fierceness and energy, nor indeed the same boldness and malice,
   and that with beginners and feeble folk only the weaker spirits join
   battle, and when these spiritual wickednesses are beaten, then
   gradually the assaults of stronger ones are made against the athlete of
   Christ. For in proportion to a man's strength and progress, is the
   difficulty of the struggle made greater: for none of the saints could
   possibly be equal to the endurance of the malice of so many and so
   great foes, or meet their attacks, or even bear their cruelty and
   savagery, were it not that the merciful judge of our contest, and
   president of the games, Christ Himself, equalized the strength of the
   combatants, and repelled and checked their excessive attacks, and made
   with the temptation a way of escape as well that we might be able to
   bear it. [1478]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1478] 1 Cor. x. 13.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   Of the fact that devils struggle with men not without effort on their
   part.

   But our belief is that they undertake this struggle not without effort
   on their part. For in their conflict they themselves have some sort of
   anxiety and depression, and especially when they are matched with
   stronger rivals, i.e., saints and perfect men. Otherwise no contest or
   struggle, but only a simple deception of men, and one free from anxiety
   on their part would be assigned to them. And how then would the
   Apostle's words stand, where he says: "We wrestle not against flesh and
   blood, but against principalities, against powers, against world-rulers
   of this darkness, against spiritual wickedness in heavenly places;" and
   this too: "So fight I, not as one that beateth the air;" and again: "I
   have fought a good fight"? [1479] For where it is spoken of as a fight,
   and conflict, and battle, there must be effort and exertion and anxiety
   on both sides, and equally there must either be in store for them
   chagrin and confusion for their failure, or delight consequent upon
   their victory. But where one fights with ease and security against
   another who struggles with great effort, and in order to overthrow his
   rival makes use of his will alone as his strength, there it ought not
   to be called a battle, struggle, or strife, but a sort of unfair and
   unreasonable assault and attack. But they certainly have to labour, and
   when they attack men, exert themselves in no lesser degree in order to
   secure from each one that victory which they want to obtain, and there
   is hurled back upon them the same confusion which was awaiting us had
   we been worsted by them; as it is said: "The head of their compassing
   me about, the labour of their own lips shall overwhelm them;" and: "His
   sorrow shall be turned on his own head;" and again: "Let the snare
   which he knoweth not come upon him, and let the net which he hath
   hidden catch him, and into that very snare let him fall;" [1480] viz.,
   that which he contrived for the deception of men. They then themselves
   also come to grief, and as they damage us so are they also in like
   manner damaged by us, nor when they are worsted do they depart without
   confusion, and seeing these defeats of theirs and their struggles, one
   who had good eyes in his inner man, seeing also that they gloated over
   the downfall and mischances of individuals, and fearing lest his own
   case might furnish them with this kind of delight, prayed to the Lord
   saying: "Lighten mine eyes that I sleep not in death: lest mine enemy
   say, I have prevailed against him. They that trouble me will rejoice if
   I be moved;" and: "O My God, let them not rejoice over me; let them not
   say in their hearts, Aha, Aha, our very wish; neither let them say; we
   have devoured him;" and: "They gnashed their teeth upon me. Lord, how
   long wilt Thou look on this?" for: "he lieth in wait secretly as a lion
   in his den: he lieth in wait to ravish the poor;" and: "He seeketh from
   God his meat." [1481] And again when all their efforts are exhausted,
   and they have failed to secure our deception, they must "be confounded
   and blush" at the failure of their efforts, "who seek our souls to
   destroy them: and let them be covered with shame and confusion who
   imagine evil against us." [1482] Jeremiah also says: "Let them be
   confounded, and let not me be confounded: let them be afraid, and let
   not me be afraid: bring upon them the fury of Thy wrath, and with a
   double destruction destroy them." [1483] For no one can doubt that when
   they are vanquished by us they will be destroyed with a double
   destruction: first, because while men are seeking after holiness, they,
   though they possessed it, lost it, and became the cause of man's ruin;
   secondly, because being spiritual existences, they have been vanquished
   by carnal and earthly ones. Each one then of the saints when he looks
   on the destruction of his foes and his own triumphs, exclaims with
   delight: "I will follow after mine enemies and overtake them: and I
   will not turn until they are destroyed. I will break them and they
   shall not be able to stand: they shall fall under my feet," [1484] and
   in his prayers against them the same prophet says: "Judge thou, O Lord,
   them that wrong me: overthrow them that fight against me. Take hold of
   arms and shield: and rise up to help me. Bring out the sword and shut
   up the way against them that persecute me: say to my soul, I am thy
   salvation." [1485] And when by subduing and destroying all our passions
   we have vanquished these, we shall then be permitted to hear those
   words of blessing: "Thy hand shall be exalted over thine enemies, and
   all thine enemies shall perish." [1486] And so when we read or chant
   all these and such like passages found in holy writ, unless we take
   them as written against those spiritual wickednesses which lie in wait
   for us night and day, we shall not only fail to draw from them any
   edification to make us gentle and patient, but shall actually meet with
   some dreadful consequence and one that is quite contrary to evangelical
   perfection. For we shall not only not be taught to pray for or to love
   our enemies, but actually shall be stirred up to hate them with an
   implacable hatred, and to curse them and incessantly to pour forth
   prayers against them. And it is terribly wrong and blasphemous to think
   that these words were uttered in such a spirit by holy men and friends
   of God, on whom before the coming of Christ the law was not imposed for
   the very reason that they went beyond its commands, and chose rather to
   obey the precepts of the gospel and to aim at apostolical perfection,
   though they lived before the dispensation of the time.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1479] Eph. vi. 12; 1 Cor. ix. 26; 2 Tim. iv. 7.

   [1480] Ps. cxxxix. (cxl.) 10; vii. 17; xxxiv. (xxxv.) 8.

   [1481] Ps. xii. (xiii.) 4, 5; xxxiv. (xxxv.) 24, 28; 16, 17; ix. (x.)
   9; ciii. (civ.) 21.

   [1482] Ps. xxxix. (xl.) 15; xxxiv. (xxxv.) 26; xxxix. (xl.) 15.

   [1483] Jer. xvii. 18.

   [1484] Ps. xvii. (xviii.) 38, 39.

   [1485] Ps. xxiv. (xxxv.) 1-3.

   [1486] Micah v. 9.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   On the fact that the power to hurt does not depend upon the will of the
   devils.

   But that they have not the power of hurting any man is shown in a very
   clear way by the instance of the blessed Job, where the enemy did not
   venture to try him beyond what was allowed to him by the Divine
   permission; and it is evidenced by the confession of the same spirits
   contained in the records of the gospel, where they say: "If Thou cast
   us out, suffer us to go into the herd of swine." [1487] And far more
   must we hold that they cannot of their own free will enter into any one
   of men who are created in the image of God, if they have not power to
   enter into dumb and unclean animals without the permission of God. But
   no one--I will not say of the younger men, whom we see living most
   steadfastly in this desert, but even of those who are perfect--could
   live alone in the desert, surrounded by such swarms of foes of this
   kind, if they had unlimited power and freedom to hurt and tempt us: and
   still more clearly is this supported by the words of our Lord and
   Saviour, which in the lowliness of the manhood He had assumed, He
   uttered to Pilate, when He said: "Thou couldest have no power against
   Me at all, unless it were given thee from above." [1488]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1487] S. Matt. viii. 31.

   [1488] S. John xix. 11.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIII.

   Of the diminished power of the devils.

   But we have thoroughly discovered both by our own experience and by the
   testimony of the Elders that the devils have not now the same power as
   they had formerly during the early days of the anchorites, when yet
   there were only a few monks living in the desert. For such was their
   fierceness that it was with difficulty that a few very steadfast men,
   and those advanced in years were able to endure a life of solitude.
   Since in the actual monasteries where eight or ten men used to live,
   their violence attacked them so and their assaults were experienced so
   frequently, and so visibly, that they did not dare all to go to bed at
   once by night, but took turns and while some snatched a little sleep,
   others kept watch and devoted themselves to Psalms and prayer and
   reading. And when the wants of nature compelled them to sleep, they
   awoke the others, and committed to them in like manner the duty of
   keeping watch over those who were going to bed. Whence we cannot doubt
   that one of two things has brought about this result not only in the
   case of us who seem to be fairly strong from the experience which our
   age gives us, but also in the case of younger men as well. For either
   the malice of the devils has been beaten back by the power of the cross
   penetrating even to the desert, and by its grace which shines
   everywhere; or else our carelessness makes them relax something of
   their first onslaught, as they scorn to attack us with the same energy
   with which they formerly raged against those most admirable soldiers of
   Christ; and by this deceit and ceasing from open attacks they do us
   still more damage. For we see that some have fallen into so sluggish a
   condition that they have to be coaxed by too gentle exhortations for
   fear lest they should forsake their cells and fall into more dangerous
   troubles, and wander and stray about and be entangled in what I would
   call grosser sins; and it is thought that a great thing is got from
   them if they can even with some listlessness remain in the desert, and
   the Elders often say to them as a great relief: Stop in your cells, and
   eat and drink and sleep as much as you like, [1489] if only you will
   stay in them always.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1489] So centuries later it is told of a Jesuit father that when one
   wanted to relax the strictness of his fast, he replied, "Eat an ox, but
   be a Christian."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIV.

   Of the way in which the devils prepare for themselves an entrance into
   the bodies of those whom they are going to possess.

   It is clear then that unclean spirits cannot make their way into those
   whose bodies they are going to seize upon, in any other way than by
   first taking possession of their minds and thoughts. And when they have
   robbed them of fear and the recollection of God and spiritual
   meditation, they boldly advance upon them, as if they were dispossessed
   of all protection and Divine safeguard, and could easily be bound, and
   then take up their dwelling in them as if in a possession given over to
   them.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXV.

   On the fact that those men are more wretched who are possessed by sins
   than those who are possessed by devils.

   Although it is a fact that those men are more grievously and severely
   troubled, who, while they seem to be very little affected by them in
   the body, are yet possessed in spirit in a far worse way, as they are
   entangled in their sins and lusts. For as the Apostle says: "Of whom a
   man is overcome, of him he is also the servant." Only that in this
   respect they are more dangerously ill, because though they are their
   slaves, yet they do not know that they are assaulted by them, and under
   their dominion. But we know that even saintly men have been given over
   in the flesh to Satan and to great afflictions for some very slight
   faults, since the Divine mercy will not suffer the very least spot or
   stain to be found in them on the day of judgment, and purges away in
   this world every spot of their filth, as the prophet, or rather God
   Himself says, in order that He may commit them to eternity as gold or
   silver refined and needing no penal purification. "And," says He, "I
   will clean purge away thy dross, and I will take away all thy sin; and
   after this thou shalt be called the city of the just, a faithful city."
   And again: "Like as silver and gold are tried in the furnace, so the
   Lord chooseth the hearts;" And again: "The fire tries gold and silver;
   but man is tried in the furnace of humiliation;" and this also: "For
   whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom He
   receiveth." [1490]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1490] Is. i. 25, 26; Prov. xvii. 3 (LXX.); Ecclus. ii. 5; Heb. xii. 6.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVI.

   Of the death of the prophet who was led astray, and of the infirmity of
   the Abbot Paul, with which he was visited for the sake of his
   cleansing.

   And we see clear instance of this in the case of that prophet and man
   of God in the third book of Kings, who was straightway destroyed by a
   lion for a single fault of disobedience, in which he was implicated not
   of set purpose nor by the fault of his own will but by the enticement
   of another, as the Scripture speaks thus of him: "It is the man of God,
   who was disobedient to the mouth of the Lord, and the Lord delivered
   him to the lion, and it tare him according to the word of the Lord,
   which He spake." [1491] In which case the punishment of the present
   offence and carelessness together with the reward of his righteousness,
   for which the Lord gave over his prophet in this world to the
   destroyer, are shown by the moderation and abstinence of the beast of
   prey, as that most savage creature did not dare even to taste the
   carcass that was given over to him. And of the same thing a very clear
   and plain proof has been given in our own days in the case of the
   Abbots Paul and Moses who lived in a spot in this desert called
   Calamus, [1492] for the former had formerly dwelt in the wilderness
   which is hard by the city of Panephysis, [1493] which we know had only
   recently been made a wilderness by an inundation of salt water; which
   whenever the north wind blew, was driven from the marshes and spreading
   over the adjacent fields covered the face of the whole district, so as
   to make the ancient villages, which on this very account had been
   deserted by all their inhabitants, look like islands. Here, then, the
   Abbot Paul had made such progress in purity of heart in the stillness
   and silence of the desert, that he did not suffer, I will not say a
   woman's face, but even the clothes of one of that sex to appear in his
   sight. For when as he was going to the cell of one of the Elders
   together with Abbot Archebius [1494] who lived in the same desert, by
   accident a woman met him, he was so disgusted at meeting her that he
   dropped the business of his friendly visit which he had taken in hand
   and dashed back again to his own monastery with greater speed than a
   man would flee from the face of a lion or terrible dragon; so that he
   was not moved even by the shouts and prayers of the aforesaid Abbot
   Archebius who called him back to go on with the journey they had
   undertaken to ask the old man what they had proposed to do. But though
   this was done in his eagerness for chastity and desire for purity, yet
   because it was done not according to knowledge, and because the
   observance of discipline, and the methods of proper strictness were
   overstrained, for he imagined that not merely familiarity with a woman
   (which is the real harm,) but even the very form of that sex was to be
   execrated, he was forthwith overtaken by such a punishment that his
   whole body was struck with paralysis, and none of his limbs were able
   to perform their proper functions, since not merely his hands and feet,
   but even the movements of the tongue, which enables us to frame our
   words, (were affected) and his very ears lost the sense of hearing, so
   that there was left in him nothing more of his manhood than an
   immovable and insensible figure. But he was reduced to such a condition
   that the utmost care of men was unable to minister to his infirmity,
   but only the tender service of women could attend to his wants: for
   when he was taken to a convent of holy virgins, food and drink, which
   he could not ask for even by signs, were brought to him by female
   attendants, and for the performance of all that nature required he was
   ministered to by the same service for nearly four years, i.e., to the
   end of his life. And though he was affected by such weakness of all his
   members that none of his limbs retained their keen power of motion and
   feeling, nevertheless such grace of goodness proceeded from him that
   when sick persons were anointed with the oil which had touched what
   should be called his corpse rather than his body, they were instantly
   healed of all diseases, so that as regards his own malady it was made
   clearly and plainly evident even to unbelievers that the infirmity of
   all his limbs was caused by the providence and love of the Lord, and
   that the grace of these healings was granted by the power of the Holy
   Ghost as a witness of his purity and a manifestation of his merits.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1491] 1 Kings xiii. 26.

   [1492] Cf. on the Institutes X. xxiv.

   [1493] Cf. on the Institutes IV. xxx.

   [1494] On Archebius cf. the note on XI. ii.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVII.

   On the temptation of Abbot Moses.

   But the second person whom we mentioned as living in this desert,
   although he was also a remarkable and striking man, yet, in order to
   punish a single word, to which in a dispute with Abbot Macarius, [1495]
   he had given utterance somewhat too sharply, as he was anticipated in
   some opinion, he was instantly delivered to so dreadful a demon that he
   filled his mouth with filth [1496] which he supplied, and the Lord
   showed by the quickness of his cure, and the author of his healing,
   that He had brought this scourge upon him to purify him, that there
   might not remain in him any stain from his momentary error: for as soon
   as Abbot Macarius committed himself to prayer, quicker than a word the
   evil spirit fled away from him and departed.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1495] On Macarius see the note on the Institutes V. xli.

   [1496] Humanas egestiones.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVIII.

   How we ought not to despise those who are delivered up to unclean
   spirits.

   From which it plainly results that we ought not to hate or despise
   those whom we see to be delivered up to various temptations or to those
   spirits of evil, because we ought firmly to hold these two points:
   first, that none of them can be tempted at all by them without God's
   permission, and secondly that all things which are brought upon us by
   God, whether they seem to us at the present time to be sad or joyful,
   are inflicted for our advantage as by a most kind father and most
   compassionate physician, and that therefore men are, as it were, given
   into the charge of schoolmasters, and humbled in order that when they
   depart out of this world they may be removed in a state of greater
   purity to the other life, or have a lighter punishment inflicted on
   them, as they have been, as the Apostle says, delivered over at the
   present time "to Satan for the destruction of the flesh that the spirit
   may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus." [1497]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1497] 1 Cor. v. 5.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIX.

   An objection, asking why those who are tormented by unclean spirits are
   separated from the Lord's communion.

   Germanus:  And how is it that we see them not only scorned and shunned
   by everybody, but actually always kept away from the Lord's communion
   in our provinces, in accordance with these words of the gospel: "Give
   not that which is holy to the dogs, neither cast your pearls before
   swine;" [1498] while you tell us that somehow we ought to hold that the
   humiliation of this temptation is brought upon them with a view to
   their purification and profit?
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1498] S. Matt. vii. 6.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXX.

   The answer to the question raised.

   Serenus: If we had this knowledge, or rather faith, of which I treated
   above; viz., to believe that all things were brought about by God, and
   ordered for the good of our souls, we should not only never despise
   them, but rather pray without ceasing for them as our own members, and
   sympathize with them with all our hearts and the fullest affection (for
   "when one member suffers, all the members suffer with it" [1499] ), as
   we know that we cannot possibly be perfected without them inasmuch as
   they are members of us, just as we read that our predecessors could not
   attain the fulness of promise without us, as the Apostle speaks of them
   as follows: "And these all being approved by the testimony of faith,
   received not the promise, God providing some better thing for us that
   they should not be perfected without us." [1500] But we never remember
   that holy communion was forbidden them; nay rather if it were possible,
   they thought that it ought to be given to them daily; nor indeed
   according to the words of the gospel which you incongruously apply in
   this sense "Give not that which is holy to dogs," [1501] ought we to
   believe that holy communion becomes food for the demon, and not a
   purification and safeguard of body and soul; for when it is received by
   a man it, so to speak, burns out and puts to flight the spirit which
   has its seat in his members or is trying to lurk in them. For in this
   way we have lately seen Abbot Andronicus and many others cured. For the
   enemy will more and more abuse the man who is possessed, if he sees him
   cut off from the heavenly medicine, and will tempt him more often and
   more fearfully, as he sees him removed the further from this spiritual
   remedy. [1502]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1499] 1 Cor. xii. 26.

   [1500] Heb. xi. 39, 40.

   [1501] S. Matt. vii. 6.

   [1502] The question whether the Holy Communion should ever be given to
   those possessed is discussed by S. Thomas Aquinas, in the Summa III. Q.
   lxxx. Art. 9, and answered in the affirmative, the authorities quoted
   in its favour being this passage from Cassian, and the third Canon of
   the 1st Council of Orange (a.d. 441).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXI.

   On the fact that those men are more to be pitied to whom it is not
   given to be subjected to those temporal temptations.

   But we ought to consider those men truly wretched and miserable in
   whose case, although they defile themselves with all kinds of sins and
   wickedness, yet not only is there no visible sign of the devil's
   possession shown in them, nor is any temptation proportionate to their
   actions, nor any scourge of punishment brought to bear upon them. For
   they are vouchsafed no swift and immediate remedy in this world, whose
   "hardness and impenitent heart," being too much for punishment in this
   life, "heapeth up for itself wrath and indignation in the day of wrath
   and revelation of the righteous judgment of God," "where their worm
   dieth not, and their fire is not quenched." [1503] Against whom the
   prophet as if perplexed at the affliction of the saints, when he sees
   them subject to various losses and temptations, and on the other hand
   sees sinners not only passing through the course of this world without
   any scourge of humiliation, but even rejoicing in great riches, and the
   utmost prosperity in everything, inflamed with uncontrollable
   indignation and fervour of spirit, exclaims: "But as for me, my feet
   had almost gone, my treadings had well nigh slipped. For I was grieved
   at the wicked, when I saw the peace of sinners. For there is no regard
   to their death, nor is there strength in their stripes. They are not in
   the labour of men, neither shall they be scourged like other men,"
   [1504] since hereafter they shall be punished with the devils, to whom
   in this world it was not vouchsafed to be scourged in the lot and
   discipline of sons, together with men. Jeremiah also, when conversing
   with God on this prosperity of sinners, although he never professes to
   doubt about the justice of God, as he says "for Thou art just, O Lord,
   if I dispute with Thee," yet in his inquiry as to the reasons of this
   inequality, proceeds to say: "But yet I will speak what is just to
   Thee. Why doth the way of the wicked prosper? Why is it well with all
   them that transgress and do wickedly? Thou hast planted them and they
   have taken root: they prosper and bring forth fruit. Thou art near in
   their mouth and far from their reins." [1505] And when the Lord mourns
   for their destruction by the prophet, and anxiously directs doctors and
   physicians to heal them, and in a manner urges them on to a similar
   lamentation and says: "Babylon is suddenly fallen: she is destroyed.
   Howl for her: take balm for her pain, if so she may be healed;" then,
   in their despair, the angels, to whom is entrusted the care of man's
   salvation, make reply; or at any rate the prophet in the person of the
   Apostles and spiritual men and doctors who see the hardness of their
   soul, and their impenitent heart: "We have healed Babylon: but she is
   not cured. Let us forsake her, and let us go every man to his own land
   because her judgment hath reached even to the heavens, and is lifted up
   to the clouds." [1506] Of their desperate feebleness then Isaiah speaks
   in the Person of God to Jerusalem: From the sole of the foot unto the
   top of the head there is no soundness therein: wounds and bruises and
   swelling sores: they are not bound up nor dressed nor fermented with
   oil." [1507]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1503] Rom. ii. 5; Is. lxvi. 24.

   [1504] Ps. lxxii. (lxxiii.) 2-5.

   [1505] Jer. xii. 1, 2.

   [1506] Jer. li. 8, 9.

   [1507] Is. i. 6.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXII.

   Of the different desires and wishes which exist in the powers of the
   air.

   But it is clearly proved that there exist in unclean spirits as many
   desires as there are in men. For some of them, which are commonly
   called Plani, [1508] are shown to be so seductive and sportive that,
   when they have taken continual possession of certain places or roads,
   they delight themselves not indeed with tormenting the passers by whom
   they can deceive, but, contenting themselves merely with laughing at
   them and mocking them, try to tire them out rather than to injure them:
   while some spend the night merely by harmlessly taking possession of
   men, though others are such slaves to fury and ferocity that they are
   not simply content with hurting the bodies of those of whom they have
   taken possession, by tearing them in a dreadful manner, but actually
   are eager to rush upon those who are passing by at a distance, and to
   attack them with most savage slaughter: like those described in the
   gospel, for fear of whom no man dared to pass by that way. And there is
   no doubt that these and such as these in their insatiable fury delight
   in wars and bloodshed. Others we find affect the hearts of those whom
   they have seized with empty pride, (and these are commonly called
   Bacucei [1509] ) so that they stretch themselves up beyond their proper
   height and at one time puff themselves up with arrogance and pomposity,
   and at another time condescend in an ordinary and bland manner, to a
   state of calmness and affability: and as they fancy that they are great
   people and the wonder of everybody, at one time show by bowing their
   body that they are worshipping higher powers, while at another time
   they think that they are worshipped by others, and so go through all
   those movements which express true service either proudly or humbly.
   Others we find are not only keen for lies, but also inspire men with
   blasphemies. And of this we ourselves can testify as we have heard a
   demon openly confessing that he had proclaimed a wicked and impious
   doctrine by the mouths of Arius and Eunomius. And the same thing we
   read that one of them openly proclaimed in the fourth book of Kings: "I
   will go forth," he said, "and will be a lying spirit in the mouth of
   all his prophets." [1510] On which the Apostle, when reproving those
   who are deceived by them, adds as follows: "giving heed to seducing
   spirits and doctrines of devils speaking lies in hypocrisy." [1511] And
   that there are other kinds of devils which are deaf and dumb the
   gospels testify. And that some spirits incite to lust and wantonness
   the prophet maintains saying: "The spirit of fornication deceived them
   and they went astray from their God." [1512] In the same way the
   authority of Scripture teaches us that there are demons of the night
   and of the day and of the noonday: [1513] But it would take too long to
   search through the whole of Scripture and run through the different
   kinds of them, as they are termed by the prophets onocentaurs, satyrs,
   sirens, witches, howlers, ostriches, urchins; and asps and basilisks in
   the Psalms; and are called lions, dragons, scorpions in the gospel, and
   are named by the Apostle the prince of this world, rulers of this
   darkness, and spirits of wickedness. [1514] And all these names we
   ought not to take as given at random or hap-hazard, but as alluding to
   their fierceness and madness under the sign of those wild beasts which
   are more or less harmful and dangerous among us, and by comparing them
   to the poisonous wickedness or power which among other beasts or
   serpents, some pre-eminence in evil confers on them, they are called by
   their names, in such a way that to one is assigned the name of lion
   because of the fury of his rage and the madness of his anger, to
   another that of basilisk because of his deadly poison, which kills a
   person before it is perceived, and to another that of onocentaur or
   urchin or ostrich because of his sluggish malice.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1508] "Planoi," "Seducers," if the reading be correct: but some mss.
   have "Fauni."

   [1509] The origin of this term is obscure.

   [1510] 1 Kings xxii. 22.

   [1511] 1 Tim. iv. 1, 2.

   [1512] Hos. iv. 12.

   [1513] Ps. xc. (xci.) 5, 6.

   [1514] Cf. Is. xiii. 21, 22; xxxiv. 13, 15; Ps. xc. (xci.) 13; S. Luke
   x. 19; S. John xiv. 30; Eph. vi. 12.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXIII.

   A question as to the origin of such differences in powers of evil in
   the sky.

   Germanus: We certainly do not doubt that those orders which the Apostle
   enumerates refer to them: "For we wrestle not against flesh and blood,
   but against principalities, against powers, against the world-rulers of
   this darkness, against spirits of wickedness in heavenly places:"
   [1515] but we want to know whence comes such a difference between them,
   or how such grades of wickedness exist? Were they created for this, to
   meet with these orders of evil, and in some way to serve this
   wickedness?
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1515] Eph. vi. 12.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXIV.

   The postponement of the answer to the question raised.

   Serenus: Although your proposals would rob us of our whole night's
   rest, so that we should not notice the approach of the rising dawn, and
   should be tempted greedily to prolong our conference till sunrise, yet
   since the solving of the question raised, if we began to trace it out,
   would launch us on a wide and deep sea of questions, which the
   shortness of the time at our disposal would not permit us to traverse,
   I think it will be more convenient to reserve it for consideration
   another night, when by the raising of this question I shall receive
   from your very ready converse some spiritual joy and richer fruit, and
   we shall be able if the Holy Spirit grants us a prosperous breeze to
   penetrate more freely into the intricacies of the questions raised.
   Wherefore let us enjoy a little sleep, and so shake off the drowsiness
   that steals over our eyes, as the dawn approaches, and then we will go
   together to church, for the observance of Sunday bids us do this, and
   after service will come back, and as you wish, discuss with redoubled
   delight what the Lord may have given to us for our common improvement.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  VIII. The Second Conference of Abbot Serenus.

    On Principalities.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   Of the hospitality of Abbot Serenus.

   When we had finished the duties of the day, and the congregation had
   been dismissed from Church we returned to the old man's cell, and
   enjoyed a most sumptuous repast. For instead of the sauce which with a
   few drops of oil spread over it was usually set on the table for his
   daily meal, he mixed a little decoction and poured over it a somewhat
   more liberal allowance of oil than usual; for each of them when he is
   going to partake of his daily repast, pours those drops of oil on, not
   that he may receive any enjoyment from the taste of it (for so limited
   is the supply that it is hardly enough I will not say to line the
   passage of his throat and jaws, but even to pass down it) but that
   using it, he may keep down the pride of his heart (which is certain to
   creep in stealthily and surely if his abstinence is any stricter) and
   the incitements to vainglory, for as his abstinence is practised with
   the greater secrecy, and is carried on without anyone to see it, so
   much the more subtly does it never cease to tempt the man who conceals
   it. Then he set before us table salt, and three olives each: after
   which he produced a basket containing parched vetches which they call
   trogalia, [1516] from which we each took five grains, two prunes and a
   fig apiece. For it is considered wrong for anyone to exceed that amount
   in that desert. And when we had finished this repast and had begun to
   ask him again for his promised solution of the question, "Let us hear,"
   said the old man, "your question, the consideration of which we
   postponed till the present time."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1516] Cf. Horace, De Arte Poetica, l. 249.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   Statements on the different kinds of spiritual wickednesses.

   Then Germanus: We want to know what is the origin of the great variety
   of hostile powers opposed to men, and the difference between them,
   which the blessed Apostle sums up as follows: "We wrestle not against
   flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against
   the world-rulers of this darkness, against spiritual wickedness in
   heavenly places:" [1517] and again: "Neither angels nor principalities
   nor powers nor any other creature, can separate us from the love of God
   which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." [1518] Whence then arises the
   enmity of all this malice jealous of us? Are we to believe that those
   powers were created by the Lord for this; viz., to fight against men in
   these grades and orders?
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1517] Eph. vi. 12.

   [1518] Rom. viii. 38, 39.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   The answer on the many kinds of food provided in holy Scripture.

   Serenus: The authority of holy Scripture says on those points on which
   it would inform us some things so plainly and clearly even to those who
   are utterly void of understanding, that not only are they not veiled in
   the obscurity of any hidden meaning, but do not even require the help
   of any explanation, but carry their meaning and sense on the surface of
   the words and letters: but some things are so concealed and involved in
   mysteries as to offer us an immense field for skill and care in the
   discussion and explanation of them. And it is clear that God has so
   ordered it for many reasons: first for fear lest the holy mysteries, if
   they were covered by no veil of spiritual meaning, should be exposed
   equally to the knowledge and understanding of everybody, i.e., the
   profane as well as the faithful and thus there might be no difference
   in the matter of goodness and prudence between the lazy and the
   earnest: next that among those who are indeed of the household of
   faith, while immense differences of intellectual power open out before
   them, there might be the opportunity of reproving the slothfulness of
   the idle, and of proving the keenness and diligence of the earnest. And
   so holy Scripture is fitly compared to a rich and fertile field, which,
   while bearing and producing much which is good for man's food without
   being cooked by fire, produces some things which are found to be
   unsuitable for man's use or even harmful unless they have lost all the
   roughness of their raw condition by being tempered and softened down by
   the heat of fire. But some are naturally fit for use in both states, so
   that even when uncooked they are not unpleasant from their raw
   condition, but still are rendered more palatable by being cooked and
   heated by fire. Many more things too are produced only fit for the food
   of irrational creatures, and cattle, and wild animals and birds, but
   utterly useless as food for men, which while still in their rough state
   without being in any way touched by fire, conduce to the health and
   life of cattle. And we can clearly see that the same system holds good
   in that most fruitful garden of the Scriptures of the Spirit, in which
   some things shine forth clear and bright in their literal sense, in
   such a way that while they have no need of any higher interpretation,
   they furnish abundant food and nourishment in the simple sound of the
   words, to the hearers: as in this passage: "Hear, O Israel, the Lord
   thy God is one Lord;" and: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all
   thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength." [1519]
   But there are some which, unless they are weakened down by an
   allegorical interpretation, and softened by the trial of the fire of
   the spirit cannot become wholesome food for the inner man without
   injury and loss to him; and damage rather than profit will accrue to
   him from receiving them: as with this passage: "But let your loins be
   girded up and your lights burning;" and: "whosoever has no sword, let
   him sell his coat and buy himself a sword;" and: "whosoever taketh not
   up his cross and followeth after Me is not worthy of Me;" [1520] a
   passage which some most earnest monks, having "indeed a zeal for God,
   but not according to knowledge" [1521] understood literally, and so
   made themselves wooden crosses, and carried them about constantly on
   their shoulders, and so were the cause not of edification but of
   ridicule on the part of all who saw them. But some are capable of being
   taken suitable and properly in both ways, i.e., the historical and
   allegorical, so that either explanation furnishes a healing draught to
   the soul; as this passage: "If any one shall smite thee on the right
   cheek, turn to him the other also;" and: "when they persecute you in
   one city, flee to another;" and: "if thou wilt be perfect, go, sell all
   that thou hast and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in
   heaven, and come follow Me." [1522] It produces indeed "grass for the
   cattle" also, (and of this food all the fields of Scripture are full);
   viz., plain and simple narratives of history, by which simple folk, and
   those who are incapable of perfect and sound understanding (of whom it
   is said "Thou, Lord, wilt save both man and beast") [1523] may be made
   stronger and more vigorous for their hard work and the labour of actual
   life, in accordance with the state and measure of their capacity.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1519] Deut. vi. 4, 5.

   [1520] S. Luke xii. 35; xxii. 36; S. Matt. x. 38.

   [1521] Rom. x. 2.

   [1522] S. Matt. v. 39; x. 23; xix. 21.

   [1523] Ps. xxxv. (xxxvi.) 7.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   Of the double sense in which Holy Scripture may be taken.

   Wherefore on those passages which are brought forward with a clear
   explanation we also can constantly lay down the meaning and boldly
   state our own opinions. But those which the Holy Spirit, reserving for
   our meditation and exercise, has inserted in holy Scripture with veiled
   meaning, wishing some of them to be gathered from various proofs and
   conjectures, ought to be step by step and carefully brought together,
   so that their assertions and proofs may be arranged by the discretion
   of the man who is arguing or supporting them. For sometimes when a
   difference of opinion is expressed on one and the same subject, either
   view may be considered reasonable and be held without injury to the
   faith either firmly, or doubtfully, i.e., in such a way that neither is
   full belief nor absolute rejection accorded to it, and the second view
   need not interfere with the former, if neither of them is found to be
   opposed to the faith: as in this case: where Elias came in the person
   of John, [1524] and is again to be the precursor of the Lord's Advent:
   and in the matter of the "Abomination of desolation" which "stood in
   the holy place," by means of that idol of Jupiter which, as we read,
   was placed in the temple in Jerusalem, and which is again to stand in
   the Church through the coming of Antichrist, [1525] and all those
   things which follow in the gospel, which we take as having been
   fulfilled before the captivity of Jerusalem and still to be fulfilled
   at the end of this world. In which matters neither view is opposed to
   the other, nor does the first interpretation interfere with the second.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1524] Cf. S. Matt. xi. 14.

   [1525] See Dan. ix. 27; 2 Macc. vi. 2; S. Matt. xxiv. 15 sq.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   Of the fact that the question suggested ought to be included among
   those things to be held in a neutral or doubtful way.

   And therefore since the question raised by us, does not seem to have
   been sufficiently or often ventilated among men, and is clear to most
   people, and from this fact what we bring forward may perhaps appear to
   some to be doubtful, we ought to regulate our own view (since it does
   not interfere with faith in the Trinity) so that it may be included
   among those things which are to be held doubtfully; although they rest
   not on mere opinions such as are usually given to guesses and
   conjectures, but on clear Scripture proof.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   Of the fact that nothing is created evil by God.

   God forbid that we should admit that God has created anything which is
   substantially evil, as Scripture says "everything that God had made was
   very good." [1526] For if they were created by God such as they are
   now, or made for this purpose; viz., to occupy these positions of
   malice, and ever to be ready for the deception and ruin of men, we
   should in opposition to the view of the above quoted Scripture slander
   God as the Creator and author of evil, as having Himself formed utterly
   evil wills and natures, creating them for this very purpose; viz., that
   they might ever persist in their wickedness and never pass over to the
   feeling of a good will. The following reason then of this diversity is
   what we received from the tradition of the fathers, being drawn from
   the fount of Holy Scripture.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1526] Gen. i. 31.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   Of the origin of principalities or powers.

   None of the faithful question the fact that before the formation of
   this visible creation God made spiritual and celestial powers, in order
   that owing to the very fact that they knew that they had been formed
   out of nothing by the goodness of the Creator for such glory and bliss,
   they might render to Him continual thanks and ceaselessly continue to
   praise Him. For neither should we imagine that God for the first time
   began to originate His creation and work with the formation of this
   world, as if in those countless ages beforehand He had taken no thought
   of Providence and the divine ordering of things, and as if we could
   believe that having none towards whom to show the blessings of His
   goodness, He had been solitary, and a stranger to all bountifulness; a
   thing which is too poor and unsuitable to fancy of that boundless and
   eternal and incomprehensible Majesty; as the Lord Himself says of these
   powers: "When the stars were made together, all my angels praised Me
   with a loud voice." [1527] Those then who were present at the creation
   of the stars, are most clearly proved to have been created before that
   "beginning" in which it is said that heaven and earth were made,
   inasmuch as they are said with loud voices and admiration to have
   praised the Creator because of all those visible creatures which, as
   they saw, proceeded forth from nothing. Before then that beginning in
   time which is spoken of by Moses, and which according to the historic
   and Jewish interpretation denotes the age of this world (without
   prejudice to our interpretation, according to which we explain that the
   "beginning," of all things is Christ, in whom the Father created all
   things, as it is said "All things were made by him, and without Him was
   not anything made,") [1528] before, I say, that beginning of Genesis in
   time there is no question that God had already created all those powers
   and heavenly virtues; which the Apostle enumerates in order and thus
   describes: "For in Christ were created all things both in heaven and on
   earth, visible and invisible, whether they be angels or archangels,
   whether they be thrones or dominions, whether they be principalities or
   powers. All things were made by Him and in Him." [1529]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1527] Job xxxviii. 7 (LXX.).

   [1528] S. John i. 3.

   [1529] Col. i. 16.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Of the fall of the devil and the angels.

   And so we are clearly shown that out of that number of them some of the
   leaders fell, by the lamentations of Ezekiel and Isaiah, in which we
   know that the prince of Tyre or that Lucifer who rose in the morning is
   lamented with a doleful plaint: and of him the Lord speaks as follows
   to Ezekiel: "Son of man, take up a lamentation over the prince of Tyre,
   and say to him: Thus saith the Lord God: Thou wast the seal of
   resemblance, full of wisdom, perfect in beauty. Thou wast in the
   pleasures of the paradise of God: every precious stone was thy
   covering: the sardius, the topaz and the jasper, the chrysolyte and the
   onyx and the beryl, the sapphire and the carbuncle and the emerald:
   gold the work of thy beauty, and thy pipes were prepared in the day
   that thou wast created. Thou wast a cherub stretched out and
   protecting, and I set thee in the holy mountain of God, thou hast
   walked in the midst of the stones of fire. Thou wast perfect in thy
   ways from the day of thy creation, until iniquity was found in thee. By
   the multitude of thy merchandise thy inner parts were filled with
   iniquity and thou hast sinned; and I cast thee out from the mountain of
   God, and destroyed thee, O covering cherub, out of the midst of the
   stones of fire. And thy heart was lifted up with thy beauty: thou hast
   lost thy wisdom in thy beauty, I have cast thee to the ground: I have
   set thee before the face of kings, that they might behold thee. Thou
   hast defiled thy sanctuaries by the multitude of thy iniquities and by
   the iniquity of thy traffic." [1530] Isaiah also says of another: "How
   art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, who didst rise in the morning?
   how art thou fallen to the ground, that didst wound the nations? and
   thou saidst in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my
   throne above the stars of God, I will sit in the mountain of the
   covenant, in the sides of the north. I will ascend above the heights of
   the clouds. I will be like the Most High." [1531] But Holy Scripture
   relates that these fell not alone from that summit of their station in
   bliss, as it tells us that the dragon dragged down together with
   himself the third part of the stars. [1532] One of the Apostles too
   says still more plainly: "But the angels who kept not their first
   estate, but left their own dwelling, He hath reserved in everlasting
   chains under darkness to the judgment of the great day." [1533] This
   too which is said to us: "But ye shall die like men and fall like one
   of the princes," [1534] what does it imply but that many princes have
   fallen? And by these testimonies we can gather the reason for this
   diversity; viz., either that they still retain those differences of
   rank (which adverse powers are said to possess, after the manner of
   holy and heavenly virtues) from the station of their former rank in
   which they were severally created, or else that, though themselves cast
   down from heavenly places, yet, as a reward for that wickedness of
   theirs in which they have graduated in evil, they claim in perversity
   these grades and titles of rank among themselves, by way of copying
   those virtues which have stood firm there.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1530] Ezek. xxviii. 11-18.

   [1531] Is. xiv. 12-14.

   [1532] Cf. Rev. xii. 4.

   [1533] Ep. of S. Jude, ver. 6.

   [1534] Ps. lxxxi. (lxxx.) 7.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   An objection stating that the fall of the devil took its origin from
   the deception of God.

   Germanus: Up till now we used to believe that the reason and
   commencement of the ruin and fall of the devil, in which he was cast
   out from his heavenly estate, was more particularly envy, when in his
   spiteful subtlety he deceived Adam and Eve.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   The answer about the beginning of the devil's fall.

   Serenus: The passage in Genesis shows that that was not the beginning
   of his fall and ruin, as before their deception it takes the view that
   he had already been branded with the ignominy of the name of the
   serpent, where it says: "But the serpent was wiser" or as the Hebrew
   copies express it, "more subtle than all the beasts of the earth, which
   the Lord God had made." [1535] You see then that he had fallen away
   from his angelic holiness even before he deceived the first man, so
   that he not only deserved to be stamped with the ignominy of this
   title, but actually excelled all other beasts of the earth in the
   subterfuges of wickedness. For Holy Scripture would not have designated
   a good angel by such a term, nor would it say of those who were still
   continuing in that state of bliss: "But the serpent was wiser than all
   the beasts of the earth." For this title could not possibly be applied
   I say not to Gabriel or Michael, but it would not even be suitable to
   any good man. And so the title of serpent and the comparison to beasts
   most clearly suggests not the dignity of an angel but the infamy of an
   apostate. Finally the occasion of the envy and seduction, which led him
   to deceive man, arose from the ground of his previous fall, in that he
   saw that man, who had but recently been formed out of the dust of the
   ground, was to be called to that glory, from which he remembered that
   he himself, while still one of the princes, had fallen. And so that
   first fall of his, which was due to pride, and which obtained for him
   the name of the serpent, was followed by a second owing to envy: and as
   this one found him still in the possession of something upright so that
   he could enjoy some interchange of conference and counsel with man, by
   the Lord's sentence he was very properly cast down to the lowest depth,
   that he might no longer walk as before erect, and looking up on high,
   but should cleave to the ground and creep along, and be brought low
   upon his belly and feed upon the earthly food and works of sins, and
   henceforward proclaim his secret hostility, and put between himself and
   man an enmity that is to our advantage, and a discord that is to our
   profit, so that while men are on their guard against him as a dangerous
   enemy, he can no longer injure them by a deceptive show of friendship.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1535] Gen. iii. 1.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   The punishment of the deceiver and the deceived.

   But we ought in this matter, in order that we may shun evil counsels,
   to learn a special lesson from the fact that though the author of the
   deception was visited with a fitting punishment and condemnation, yet
   still the one who was led astray did not go scot free from punishment,
   although it was somewhat lighter than that of him who was the author of
   the deception. And this we see was very plainly expressed. For Adam who
   was deceived, or rather (to use the Apostle's words) "was not deceived"
   but, acquiescing in the wishes of her who was deceived, seems to have
   come to yield a consent that was deadly, is only condemned to labour
   and the sweat of his brow, which is assigned to him not by means of a
   curse upon himself, but by means of a curse upon the ground, and its
   barrenness. But the woman, who persuaded him to this, is visited with
   an increase of anguish, and pains and sorrow, and also given over to
   the yoke of perpetual subjection. But the serpent who was the first to
   incite them to this offence, is punished by a lasting curse. Wherefore
   we should with the utmost care and circumspection be on our guard
   against evil counsels, for as they bring punishment upon their authors,
   so too they do not suffer those who are deceived by them to go free
   from guilt and punishment.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   Of the crowd of the devils, and the disturbance which they always raise
   in our atmosphere.

   But the atmosphere which extends between heaven and earth is ever
   filled with a thick crowd of spirits, which do not fly about in it
   quietly or idly, so that most fortunately the divine providence has
   withdrawn them from human sight. For through fear of their attacks, or
   horror at the forms, into which they transform and turn themselves at
   will, men would either be driven out of their wits by an insufferable
   dread, and faint away, from inability to look on such things with
   bodily eyes, or else would daily grow worse and worse, and be corrupted
   by their constant example and by imitating them, and thus there would
   arise a sort of dangerous familiarity and deadly intercourse between
   men and the unclean powers of the air, whereas those crimes which are
   now committed among men, are concealed either by walls and enclosures
   or by distance and space, or by some shame and confusion: but if they
   could always look on them with open face, they would be stimulated to a
   greater pitch of insanity, as there would not be a single moment in
   which they would see them desist from their wickedness, since no bodily
   weariness, or occupation in business or care for their daily food (as
   in our case) forces them sometimes even against their will to desist
   from the purposes they have begun to carry out.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   Of the fact that opposing powers turn the attack, which they aim at
   men, even against each other.

   For it is quite clear that they aim these attacks, with which they
   assault men, even against each other, for in like manner they do not
   cease to promote with unwearied strife the discords and struggles which
   they have undertaken for some peoples because of a sort of innate love
   of wickedness which they have: and this we read of as being very
   clearly set forth in the vision of Daniel the prophet, where the angel
   Gabriel speaks as follows: "Fear not, Daniel: for from the first day
   that thou didst set thy heart to understand, to afflict thyself in the
   sight of thy God, thy words have been heard: and I am come for thy
   words. But the prince of the kingdom of the Persians resisted me one
   and twenty days: and behold Michael one of the chief princes came to
   help me, and I remained there by the king of the Persians. But I am
   come to teach thee what things shall befall thy people in the latter
   days." [1536] And we can not possibly doubt that this prince of the
   kingdom of the Persians was a hostile power, which favoured the nation
   of the Persians an enemy of God's people; for in order to hinder the
   good which it saw would result from the solution of the question for
   which the prophet prayed the Lord, by the archangel, in its jealousy it
   opposed itself to prevent the saving comfort of the angel from reaching
   Daniel too speedily, and from strengthening the people of God, over
   which the archangel Gabriel was: and the latter said that even then,
   owing to the fierceness of his assaults, he would not have been able to
   come to him, had not Michael the archangel come to help him, and met
   the prince of the kingdom of the Persians, and joined battle with him,
   and intervened, and defended him from his attack, and so enabled him to
   come to instruct the prophet after twenty-one days. And a little later
   on it says: "And the angel said: Dost thou know wherefore I am come to
   thee? And now I will return to fight against the prince of the
   Persians. For when I went forth, there appeared the prince of the
   Greeks coming. But I will tell thee what is written down in the
   Scriptures of truth: and none is my helper in all these things but
   Michael your prince." [1537] And again: "At that time shall Michael
   rise up, the great prince, who standeth for the children of thy
   people." [1538] So then we read that in the same way another was called
   the prince of the Greeks, who since he was patron of that nation which
   was subject to him seems to have been opposed to the nation of the
   Persians as well as to the people of Israel. From which we clearly see
   that antagonistic powers raise against each other those quarrels of
   nations, and conflicts and dissensions, which they show among
   themselves at their instigation, and that they either exult at their
   victories or are cast down at their defeats, and thus cannot live in
   harmony among themselves, while each of them is always striving with
   restless jealousy on behalf of those whom he presides over, against the
   patron of some other nation.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1536] Dan. x. 12-14.

   [1537] Dan. x. 20, 21.

   [1538] Dan. xii. 1.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   How it is that spiritual wickednesses obtained the names of powers or
   principalities.

   We can then see clear reasons, in addition to those ideas which we
   expounded above, why they are called principalities or powers; viz.,
   because they rule and preside over different nations, and at least hold
   sway over inferior spirits and demons, of which the gospels give us
   evidence by their own confession that there exist legions. For they
   could not be called lords unless they had some over whom to exercise
   the sway of lordship; nor could they be called powers or
   principalities, unless there were some over whom they could claim
   power: and this we find pointed out very clearly in the gospel by the
   Pharisees in their blasphemy: "He casteth out devils by Beelzebub the
   prince of the devils," [1539] for we find that they are also called
   "rulers of darkness," [1540] and that one of them is styled "the prince
   of this world." [1541] But the blessed Apostle declares that hereafter,
   when all things shall be subdued to Christ, these orders shall be
   destroyed, saying: "When He shall have delivered up the kingdom to God
   even the Father, when He shall have destroyed all principalities and
   powers and dominions." [1542] And this certainly can only take place if
   they are removed from the sway of those over whom we know that powers
   and dominions and principalities take charge in this world.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1539] S. Luke xi. 15.

   [1540] Eph. vi. 12.

   [1541] S. John xiv. 30.

   [1542] 1 Cor. xv. 24.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   Of the fact that it is not without reason that the names of angels and
   archangels are given to holy and heavenly powers.

   For no one doubts that not without cause or reason are the same titles
   of rank assigned to the better sort, and that they are names of office
   and of worth or dignity, for it is plain that they are termed angels,
   i.e., messengers from their office of bearing messages, and the
   appropriateness of the name teaches that they are "archangels" because
   they preside over angels, "dominions" because they hold dominion over
   certain persons, and "principalities" because they have some to be
   princes over, and "thrones" because they are so near to God and so
   privy and close to Him that the Divine Majesty specially rests in them
   as in a Divine throne, and in a way reclines surely on them.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   Of the subjection of the devils, which they show to their own princes,
   as seen in a brother's victim.

   But that unclean spirits are ruled over by worse powers and are subject
   to them we not only find from those passages of Scripture, recorded in
   the gospels when the Pharisees maligned the Lord, and He answered "If I
   by Beelzebub the prince of the devils cast out devils," [1543] but we
   are also taught this by clear visions and many experiences of the
   saints, for when one of our brethren was making a journey in this
   desert, as day was now declining he found a cave and stopped there
   meaning to say his evening office in it, and there midnight passed
   while he was still singing the Psalms. And when after he had finished
   his office he sat down a little before refreshing his wearied body, on
   a sudden he began to see innumerable troops of demons gathering
   together on all sides, who came forward in an immense crowd, and a long
   line, some preceding and others following their prince; who at length
   arrived, being taller and more dreadful to look at than all the others;
   and, a throne having been placed, he sat down as on some lofty
   tribunal, and began to investigate by a searching examination the
   actions of each one of them; and those who said that they had not yet
   been able to circumvent their rivals, he commanded to be driven out of
   his sight with shame and ignominy as idle and slothful, rebuking them
   with angry wrath for the waste of so much time, and for their labour
   thrown away: but those who reported that they had deceived those
   assigned to them, he dismissed before all with the highest praise
   amidst the exultation and applause of all, as most brave warriors, and
   most renowned as an example to all the rest: and when in this number
   some most evil spirit had presented himself, in delight at having to
   relate some magnificent triumph, he mentioned the name of a very well
   known monk, and declared that after having incessantly attacked him for
   fifteen years, he had at last got the better of him, so as to destroy
   him that very same night by the sin of fornication, for that he had not
   only impelled him to commit adultery with some consecrated maid, but
   had actually persuaded him to keep her and marry her. And when there
   arose shouts of joy at this narrative, he was extolled with the highest
   praise by the prince of darkness, and departed crowned with great
   honours. And so when at break of day the whole swarm of demons had
   vanished from his eyes, the brother being doubtful about the assertion
   of the unclean spirit, and rather thinking that he had desired to
   entice him by an ancient customary deceit, and to brand an innocent
   brother with the crime of incest, being mindful of those words of the
   gospel; viz., that "he abode not in the truth because there is no truth
   in him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own, for he is a
   liar, and its father," [1544] he made his way to Pelusium, where he
   knew that the man lived, whom the evil spirit declared to be destroyed:
   for the brother was very well known to him, and when he had asked him,
   he found that on the same night on which that foul demon had announced
   his downfall to his company and prince, he had left his former
   monastery, and sought the town, and had gone astray by a wretched fall
   with the girl mentioned.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1543] S. Luke xi. 19.

   [1544] S. John viii. 44.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   Of the fact that two angels always cling to every man.

   For Holy Scripture bears witness that two angels, a good and a bad one,
   cling to each one of us. And of the good ones the Saviour says: "Do not
   despise one of these little ones; for I say unto you that their angels
   in heaven do always behold the face of thy Father which is in heaven:"
   [1545] and this also: "the angel of the Lord shall encamp round about
   them that fear Him, and deliver them." [1546] Moreover this also which
   is said in the Acts of the Apostles, of Peter, that "it is his angel."
   [1547] But of both sorts the book of the Shepherd teaches us very
   fully. [1548] But if we consider about him who attacked the blessed Job
   we shall clearly learn that it was he who always plotted against him
   but never could entice him to sin, and that therefore he asked for
   power from the Lord, as he was worsted not by his (Job's) virtue but by
   the Lord's protection which ever shielded him. Of Judas also it is
   said: "And let the devil stand at his right hand." [1549]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1545] S. Matt. xviii. 10.

   [1546] Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 8.

   [1547] Acts xii. 15.

   [1548] The reference is to the Pastor or Shepherd of Hermas, a work of
   the second century. The passage to which Cassian alludes is found in
   Book II. Commandm. vi.; where it is said that "there are two angels
   with a man, one of righteousness and the other of iniquity," and
   suggestions are given how to recognize each of them and to distinguish
   the suggestions of the one from those of the other. The passage is also
   alluded to by Origen, De Principiis, Book III. c. ii. and Hom. xxxv. in
   (Lucam); and Cassian refers to it again in Conf. XIII. c. xii.

   [1549] Ps. cviii. (cix.) 6.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   Of the degrees of wickedness which exist in hostile spirits, as shown
   in the case of two philosophers.

   But of the difference that there is between demons we have learnt a
   great deal by means of those two philosophers who formerly by acts of
   magic had oftentimes great experience both of their laziness and of
   their courage and savage wickedness. For these looking down on the
   blessed Antony as a boor and rustic, and wanting, if they could not
   injure him any further, at least to drive him from his cell by
   illusions of magic and the devices of demons, despatched against him
   most foul spirits, for they were impelled to this attack upon him by
   the sting of jealousy because enormous crowds came daily to him as the
   servant of God. And when these most savage demons did not even venture
   to approach him as he was now signing his breast and forehead with the
   sign of the cross, and, now devoting himself to prayer and
   supplication, they returned without any result to those who had
   directed them; and these again sent against him others more desperate
   in wickedness, and when these too had spent their strength in vain, and
   returned without having accomplished anything, and others still more
   powerful were nevertheless told off against the victorious soldier of
   Christ, and could prevail nothing against him, all these great plots of
   theirs devised with all the arts of magic were only useful in proving
   the great value that there is in the profession of Christians, so that
   those fierce and powerful shadows, which they thought would veil the
   sun and moon if they were directed towards them, could not only not
   injure him, but not even draw him forth from his monastery for a single
   instant.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   Of the fact that devils cannot prevail at all against men unless they
   have first secured possession of their minds.

   And when in their astonishment at this they came straight to Abbot
   Antony and disclosed the extent of their attacks and the reason of them
   and their plots, they dissembled their jealousy and asked that they
   might forthwith be made Christians. But when he had asked of them the
   day when the assault was made, he declared that at that time he had
   been afflicted with the most bitter pangs of thought. And by this
   experience the blessed Antony proved and established the opinion which
   we expressed yesterday in our Conference, that demons cannot possibly
   find an entrance into the mind or body of anyone, nor have they the
   power of overwhelming the soul of anyone, unless they have first
   deprived it of all holy thoughts, and made it empty and free from
   spiritual meditation. But you must know that unclean spirits are
   obedient to men in two ways. For either they are by divine grace and
   power subject to the holiness of the faithful, or they are captivated
   by the sacrifices of sinners, and certain charms, and are flattered by
   them as their worshippers. And the Pharisees too were led astray by
   this notion and fancied that by this device even the Lord the Saviour
   gave commands to devils, and said "By Beelzebub the prince of the
   devils He casteth out devils," in accordance with that plan by which
   they knew that their own magicians and enchanters--by invoking his name
   and offering sacrifices, with which they know he is pleased and
   delighted--have as his servants power even over the devils who are
   subject to him.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   A question about the fallen angels who are said in Genesis to have had
   intercourse with the daughters of men.

   Germanus: Since a passage of Genesis was a little while ago by the
   providence of God brought forward in our midst, and happily reminded us
   that we can now conveniently ask about a point which we have always
   longed to learn, we want to know what view we ought to take about those
   fallen angels who are said to have had intercourse with the daughters
   of men, and whether such a thing can literally take place with a
   spiritual nature. And also with regard to this passage of the gospel
   which you quoted of the devil a little while back, "for he is a liar
   and his father," [1550] we should like in the same way to hear who is
   to be understood by "his father."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1550] S. John viii. 44. We find from Augustin (Tract. xxiv. in Johan.)
   that the Manichees interpreted this text as implying that the devil had
   a father, translating it "For he is a liar, and so is his father."
   Augustine himself explains it as Abbot Serenus does below in c. xxv.;
   viz., that the devil is not only a liar himself but the parent of lies.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   The answer to the question raised.

   Serenus: You have propounded two not unimportant questions, to which I
   will reply, to the best of my ability, in the order in which you have
   raised them. We cannot possibly believe that spiritual existences can
   have carnal intercourse with women. But if this could ever have
   literally happened how is it that it does not now also sometimes take
   place, and that we do not see some in the same way born of women by the
   agency of demons without intercourse with men? especially when it is
   clear that they delight in the pollution of lust, which they would
   certainly prefer to bring about through their own agency rather than
   through that of men, if they could possibly manage it, as Ecclesiastes
   declares: "What is it that hath been? The same that is. And what is it
   that hath been done? The same that is done. And there is nothing new
   that can be said under the sun, so that a man can say: Behold this is
   new; for it hath already been in the ages which were before us." [1551]
   But the question raised may be resolved in this way. After the death of
   righteous Abel, in order that the whole human race might not spring
   from a wicked fratricide, Seth was born in the place of his brother who
   was slain, to take the place of his brother not only as regards
   posterity, but also as regards justice and goodness. And his offspring,
   following the example of their father's goodness, always remained
   separate from intercourse with and the society of their kindred
   descended from the wicked Cain, as the difference of the genealogy very
   clearly tells us, where it says: "Adam begat Seth, Seth begat Enos,
   Enos begat Cainan, but Cainan begat Mahalaleel, but Mahalaleel begat
   Jared, Jared begat Enoch, Enoch begat Methuselah, Methuselah begat
   Lamech, Lamech begat Noah." [1552] And the genealogy of Cain is given
   separately as follows: "Cain begat Enoch, Enoch begat Cainan, Cainan
   begat Mahalaleel, Mahalaleel begat Methuselah, Methuselah begat Lamech,
   Lamech begat Jabal and Jubal." [1553] And so the line which sprang from
   the seed of righteous Seth always mixed with its own kith and kin, and
   continued for a long while in the holiness of its fathers and
   ancestors, untouched by the blasphemies and the wickedness of an evil
   offspring, which had implanted in it a seed of sin as it were
   transmitted by its ancestors. As long then as there continued that
   separation of the lines between them, the seed of Seth, as it sprang
   from an excellent root, was by reason of its sanctity termed "angels of
   God," or as some copies have it "sons of God;" [1554] and on the
   contrary the others by reason of their own and their fathers'
   wickedness and their earthly deeds were termed "children of men."
   Though then there was up to this time that holy and salutary separation
   between them, yet after this the sons of Seth who were the sons of God
   saw the daughters of those who were born of the line of Cain, and
   inflamed with the desire for their beauty took to themselves from them
   wives who taught their husbands the wickedness of their fathers, and at
   once led them astray from their innate holiness and the
   single-mindedness of their forefathers. To whom this saying applies
   with sufficient accuracy: "I have said: Ye are Gods, and ye are all the
   children of the Most High. But ye shall die like men, and fall like one
   of the princes;" [1555] who fell away from that true study of natural
   philosophy, handed down to them by their ancestors, which the first man
   who forthwith traced out the study of all nature, could clearly attain
   to, and transmit to his descendants on sure grounds, inasmuch as he had
   seen the infancy of this world, while still as it were tender and
   throbbing and unorganized; and as there was in him not only such
   fulness of wisdom, but also the grace of prophecy given by the Divine
   inspiration, so that while he was still an untaught inhabitant of this
   world he gave names to all living creatures, and not only knew about
   the fury and poison of all kinds of beasts and serpents, but also
   distinguished between the virtues of plants and trees and the natures
   of stones, and the changes of seasons of which he had as yet no
   experience, so that he could well say: "The Lord hath given me the true
   knowledge of the things that are, to know the disposition of the whole
   world, and the virtues of the elements, the beginning and the ending
   and the midst of times, the alterations of their courses and the
   changes of their seasons, the revolutions of the year and the
   disposition of the stars, the natures of living creatures and the rage
   of wild beasts, the force of winds, and the reasonings of men, the
   diversities of plants and the virtues of roots, and all such things as
   are hid and open I have learnt." [1556] This knowledge then of all
   nature the seed of Seth received through successive generations, handed
   down from the fathers, so long as it remained separate from the wicked
   line, and as it had received it in holiness, so it made use of it to
   promote the glory of God and the needs of everyday life. But when it
   had been mingled with the evil generation, it drew aside at the
   suggestion of devils to profane and harmful uses what it had innocently
   learnt, and audaciously taught by it the curious arts of wizards and
   enchantments and magical superstitions, teaching its posterity to
   forsake the holy worship of the Divinity and to honour and worship
   either the elements or fire or the demons of the air. How it was then
   that this knowledge of curious arts of which we have spoken, did not
   perish in the deluge, but became known to the ages that followed,
   should, I think, be briefly explained, as the occasion of this
   discussion suggests, although the answer to the question raised
   scarcely requires it. And so, as ancient traditions tell us, Ham the
   son of Noah, who had been taught these superstitions and wicked and
   profane arts, as he knew that he could not possibly bring any handbook
   on these subjects into the ark, into which he was to enter with his
   good father and holy brothers, inscribed these nefarious arts and
   profane devices on plates of various metals which could not be
   destroyed by the flood of waters, and on hard rocks, and when the flood
   was over he hunted for them with the same inquisitiveness with which he
   had concealed them, and so transmitted to his descendants a seed-bed of
   profanity and perpetual sin. In this way then that common notion,
   according to which men believe that angels delivered to men
   enchantments and diverse arts, is in truth fulfilled. From these sons
   of Seth then and daughters of Cain, as we have said, there were born
   still worse children who became mighty hunters, violent and most fierce
   men who were termed giants by reason of the size of their bodies and
   their cruelty and wickedness. For these first began to harass their
   neighbours and to practise pillaging among men, getting their living
   rather by rapine than by being contented with the sweat and labour of
   toil, and their wickedness increased to such a pitch that the world
   could only be purified by the flood and deluge. So then when the sons
   of Seth at the instigation of their lust had transgressed that command
   which had been for a long while kept by a natural instinct from the
   beginning of the world, it was needful that it should afterwards be
   restored by the letter of the law: "Thou shalt not give thy daughter to
   his son to wife, nor shalt thou take a wife of his daughters to thy
   son; for they shall seduce your hearts to depart from your God, and to
   follow their gods and serve them." [1557]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1551] Eccl. i. 9, 10.

   [1552] Gen. v. 4-30.

   [1553] Gen. iv. 17-21.

   [1554] In Gen. vi. 2 the mss. of the LXX. fluctuate between angeloi tou
   theou and huioi tou theou. The interpretation of the passage which
   Cassian here rejects is adopted by Philo and Josephus, the book of
   Enoch, and several of the early fathers, including Justin Martyr,
   Tertullian, Clement of Alexandria, Lactantius and others. The
   explanation, which Cassian here gives, taking the "sons of God" of the
   Sethites, and the "daughters of men" of the line of Cain, is apparently
   first found in Julius Africanus (oi apo tou Seth dikaioi), and is
   adopted among others by Augustine, De Civitate Dei, Book XV. xxiii.,
   where the passage is fully discussed.

   [1555] Ps. lxxxi. (lxxxii.) 6, 7.

   [1556] Wis. vii. 17-21.

   [1557] Deut. viii. 3; Exod. xxxiv. 16: cf. 1 Kings xi. 2.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   An objection, as to how an unlawful intermingling with the daughters of
   Cain could be charged against the line of Seth before the prohibition
   of the law.

   Germanus: If that command had been given to them, then the sin of
   breaking it might fairly have been brought against them for their
   audacity in so marrying. But since the observance of that separation
   had not yet been established by any rule, how could that intermingling
   of races be counted wrong in them, as it had not been forbidden by any
   command? For a law does not ordinarily forbid crimes that are past, but
   those that are future.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIII.

   The answer, that by the law of nature men were from the beginning
   liable to judgment and punishment.

   Serenus: God at man's creation implanted in him naturally complete
   knowledge of the law, and if this had been kept by man, as at the
   beginning, according to the Lord's purposes, there would not have been
   any need for another law to be given, which He afterwards proclaimed in
   writing: for it were superfluous for an external remedy to be offered,
   where an internal one was still implanted and vigorous. But since this
   had been, as we have said, utterly corrupted by freedom and the
   opportunity of sinning, the severe restrictions of the law of Moses
   were added as the executor and vindicator of this (earlier law) and to
   use the expressions of Scripture, as its helper, that through fear of
   immediate punishment men might be kept from altogether losing the good
   of natural knowledge, according to the word of the prophet who says "He
   gave the law to help them:" [1558] and it is also described by the
   Apostle as having been given as a schoolmaster [1559] to little
   children, as it instructs and guards them to prevent them from
   departing through sheer forgetfulness from the teaching in which they
   had been instructed by the light of nature: for that the complete
   knowledge of the law was implanted in man at his first creation, is
   clearly proved from this; viz., that we know that before the law, aye,
   and even before the flood, all holy men observed the commands of the
   law without having the letter to read. For how could Abel, without the
   command of the law, have known that he ought to offer to God a
   sacrifice of the firstlings of his flock and of the fat thereof, [1560]
   unless he had been taught by the law which was naturally implanted in
   him? How could Noah have distinguished what animals were clean and what
   were unclean, [1561] when the commandment of the law had not yet made a
   distinction, unless he had been taught by a natural knowledge? Whence
   did Enoch learn how to "walk with God," [1562] having never acquired
   any light of the law from another? Where had Shem and Japheth read
   "Thou shalt not uncover the nakedness of thy father," so that they went
   backwards and covered the shame of their father? [1563] How was Abraham
   taught to abstain from the spoils of the enemy which were offered to
   him, that he might not receive any recompense for his toil, or to pay
   to the priest Melchizedec the tithes which are ordered by the law of
   Moses? [1564] How was it too that the same Abraham and Lot also humbly
   offered to passers by and strangers offices of kindness and the washing
   of their feet, while yet the Evangelic command had not shone forth?
   [1565] Whence did Job obtain such earnestness of faith, such purity of
   chastity, such knowledge of humility, gentleness, pity and kindness, as
   we now see shown not even by those who know the gospels by heart? Which
   of the saints do we read of as not having observed some commandment of
   the law before the giving of the law? Which of them failed to keep
   this: "Hear, O Israel, the Lord thy God is one Lord?" [1566] Which of
   them did not fulfil this: "Thou shalt not make to thyself any graven
   image, nor the likeness of anything which is in heaven or in the earth
   or under the earth?" Which of them did not observe this: "Honour thy
   father and thy mother," or what follows in the Decalogue: "Thou shalt
   do no murder; Thou shalt not commit adultery; Thou shalt not steal;
   Thou shalt not bear false witness; Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's
   wife," [1567] and many other things besides, in which they anticipated
   the commands not only of the law but even of the gospel?
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1558] Is. viii. 20 (LXX.).

   [1559] Cf. Gal. iii. 24.

   [1560] Gen. iv. 4.

   [1561] Gen. vii. 2.

   [1562] Gen. v. 22.

   [1563] Gen. ix. 23; Lev. xviii. 7.

   [1564] Gen. xiv. 20, 22.

   [1565] Gen. xviii., xix.; cf. S. John xiii. 34.

   [1566] Deut. vi. 4.

   [1567] Exod. xx. 4-17.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIV.

   Of the fact that they were justly punished, who sinned before the
   flood.

   And so then we see that from the beginning God created everything
   perfect, nor would there have been need for anything to have been added
   to His original arrangement--as if it were shortsighted and
   imperfect--if everything had continued in that state and condition in
   which it had been created by Him. And therefore in the case of those
   who sinned before the law and even before the flood we see that God
   visited them with a righteous judgment, because they deserved to be
   punished without any excuse, for having transgressed the law of nature;
   nor should we fall into the blasphemous slanders of those who are
   ignorant of this reason, and so depreciate the God of the Old
   Testament, and run down our faith, and say with a sneer: Why then did
   it please your God to will to promulgate the law after so many thousand
   years, while He suffered such long ages to pass without any law? But if
   He afterwards discovered something better, then it appears that at the
   beginning of the world His wisdom was inferior and poorer, and that
   afterwards as if taught by experience He began to provide for something
   better, and to amend and improve His original arrangements. A thing
   which certainly cannot happen to the infinite foreknowledge of God, nor
   can these assertions be made about Him by the mad folly of heretics
   without grievous blasphemy, as Ecclesiastes says: "I have learnt that
   all the words which God hath made from the beginning shall continue
   forever: nothing can be added to them, and nothing can be taken away
   from them," [1568] and therefore "the law is not made for the
   righteous, but for the unrighteous, and insubordinate, for the ungodly
   and sinners, for the wicked and profane." [1569] For as they had the
   sound and complete system of natural laws implanted in them they had no
   need of this external law in addition, and one committed to writing,
   and what was given as an aid to that natural law. From which we infer
   by the clearest of reasonings that that law committed to writing need
   not have been given at the beginning (for it was unnecessary for this
   to be done while the natural law still remained, and was not utterly
   violated) nor could evangelical perfection have been granted before the
   law had been kept. For they could not have listened to this saying: "If
   a man strikes thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other also,"
   [1570] who were not content to avenge wrongs done to them with the even
   justice of the lex talionis, but repaid a very slight touch with deadly
   kicks and wounds with weapons, and for a single truth sought to take
   the life of those who had struck them. Nor could it be said to them,
   "love your enemies," [1571] among whom it was considered a great thing
   and most important if they loved their friends, but avoided their
   enemies and dissented from them only in hatred without being eager to
   oppress and kill them.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1568] Eccl. iii. 14. (LXX.).

   [1569] 1 Tim. i. 9.

   [1570] S. Matt. v. 39.

   [1571] Ib. ver. 44.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXV.

   How this that is said of the devil in the gospel is to be understood;
   viz., that "he is a liar, and his father."

   But as for this which disturbed you about the devil, that "he is a liar
   and his father," [1572] as if it seemed that he and his father were
   pronounced by the Lord to be liars, it is sufficiently ridiculous to
   imagine this even cursorily. For as we said a little while ago spirit
   does not beget spirit just as soul cannot procreate soul, though we do
   not doubt that the compacting of flesh is formed from man's seed, as
   the Apostle clearly distinguishes in the case of both substances; viz.,
   flesh and spirit, what should be ascribed to whom as its author, and
   says: "Moreover we have had fathers of our flesh for instructors, and
   we reverenced them: shall we not much more be in subjection to the
   Father of spirits and live?" [1573] What could show more clearly than
   this distinction, that he laid down that men were the fathers of our
   flesh, but always taught that God alone was the Father of souls.
   Although even in the actual compacting of this body a ministerial
   office alone must be attributed to men, but the chief part of its
   formation to God the Creator of all, as David says: "Thy hands have
   made me and fashioned me:" [1574] And the blessed Job: "Hast thou not
   milked me as milk, and curdled me as cheese? Thou hast put me together
   with bones and sinews;" [1575] and the Lord to Jeremiah: "Before I
   formed thee in the womb, I knew thee." [1576] But Ecclesiastes very
   clearly and accurately gathers the nature of either substance, and its
   beginning, by an examination of the rise and commencement, from which
   each originated, and by a consideration of the end to which each is
   tending, and decides also of the division of this body and soul, and
   discourses as follows: "Before the dust returns to the earth as it was,
   and the spirit returns unto God who gave it." [1577] But what could be
   said with greater plainness than that he declares that the matter of
   the flesh which he styled dust, because it springs from the seed of
   man, and seems to be sown by his ministration, must, as it was taken
   from the earth, again return to the earth, while he points out that the
   spirit which is not begotten by intercourse between the sexes, but
   belongs to God alone in a special way, returns to its creator? And this
   also is clearly implied in that breathing by God, through which Adam in
   the first instance received his life. And so from these passages we
   clearly infer that no one can be called the Father of spirits but God
   alone, who makes them out of nothing whenever He pleases, while men can
   only be termed the fathers of our flesh. So then the devil also in as
   much as he was created a spirit or an angel and good, had no one as his
   Father but God his Maker. But when he had become puffed up by pride and
   had said in his heart: "I will ascend above the heights of the clouds,
   I will be like the Most High," [1578] he became a liar, and "abode not
   in the truth;" [1579] but brought forth a lie from his own storehouse
   of wickedness and so became not only a liar, but also the father of the
   actual lie, by which when he promised Divinity to man and said "Ye
   shall be as gods," [1580] he abode not in the truth, but from the
   beginning became a murderer, both by bringing Adam into a state of
   mortality, and by slaying Abel by the hand of his brother at his
   suggestion. But already the approach of dawn is bringing to a close our
   discussion, which has occupied nearly two whole nights, and our brief
   and simple words have drawn our bark of this Conference from the deep
   sea of questions to a safe harbour of silence, in which deep indeed, as
   the breath of the Divine Spirit drives us further in, so is there ever
   opened out a wider and boundless space reaching beyond the sight of our
   eye, and, as Solomon says, "It will become much further from us than it
   was, and a great depth; who shall find it out?" [1581] Wherefore let us
   pray the Lord that both His fear and His love, which cannot fail, may
   continue steadfast in us, and make us wise in all things, and ever
   shield us unharmed, from the darts of the devil. For with these guards
   it is impossible for anyone to fall into the snares of death. But there
   is this difference between the perfect and imperfect, that in the case
   of the former love is steadfast, and so to speak riper and lasts more
   abidingly and so makes them persevere in holiness more steadfastly and
   more easily, while in the case of the latter its position is weaker and
   it more easily grows cold, and so quickly and more frequently allows
   them to be entangled in the snares of sin. And when we heard this, the
   words of this Conference so fired us that when we went away from the
   old man's cell we longed with a keener ardour of soul than when we
   first came, for the fulfilment of his teaching.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1572] S. John viii. 44.

   [1573] Heb. xii. 9.

   [1574] Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 73.

   [1575] Job x. 10, 11.

   [1576] Jer. i. 5.

   [1577] Eccl. xii. 7.

   [1578] Is. xiv. 14.

   [1579] S. John viii. 44.

   [1580] Gen. iii. 5.

   [1581] Eccl. vii. 25.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  IX. The First Conference of Abbot Isaac.

    On Prayer.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   Introduction to the Conference.

   What was promised in the second book of the Institutes [1582] on
   continual and unceasing perseverance in prayer, shall be by the Lord's
   help fulfilled by the Conferences of this Elder, whom we will now bring
   forward; viz., Abbot Isaac: [1583] and when these have been propounded
   I think that I shall have satisfied the commands of Pope Castor of
   blessed memory, and your wishes, O blessed Pope Leontius and holy
   brother Helladius, and the length of the book in its earlier part may
   be excused, though, in spite of our endeavour not only to compress what
   had to be told into a brief discourse, but also to pass over very many
   points in silence, it has been extended to a greater length than we
   intended. For having commenced with a full discourse on various
   regulations which we have thought it well to curtail for the sake of
   brevity, at the close the blessed Isaac spoke these words.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1582] See the Institutes Book II. c. ix.

   [1583] Isaac was, as we gathered from c. xxxi., a disciple of St.
   Antony, and is mentioned by Palladius Dial. de vita Chrysost. There are
   also a few stories of him in the Apophegmata Patrum (Migne, Vol. lxv.
   p. 223); and see the Dictionary of Christian Biography, Vol. iii. p.
   294.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   The words of Abbot Isaac on the nature of prayer.

   The aim of every monk and the perfection of his heart tends to
   continual and unbroken perseverance in prayer, and, as far as it is
   allowed to human frailty, strives to acquire an immovable tranquillity
   of mind and a perpetual purity, for the sake of which we seek
   unweariedly and constantly to practise all bodily labours as well as
   contrition of spirit. And there is between these two a sort of
   reciprocal and inseparable union. For just as the crown of the building
   of all virtues is the perfection of prayer, so unless everything has
   been united and compacted by this as its crown, it cannot possibly
   continue strong and stable. For lasting and continual calmness in
   prayer, of which we are speaking, cannot be secured or consummated
   without them, so neither can those virtues which lay its foundations be
   fully gained without persistence in it. And so we shall not be able
   either to treat properly of the effect of prayer, or in a rapid
   discourse to penetrate to its main end, which is acquired by labouring
   at all virtues, unless first all those things which for its sake must
   be either rejected or secured, are singly enumerated and discussed,
   and, as the Parable in the gospel teaches, [1584] whatever concerns the
   building of that spiritual and most lofty tower, is reckoned up and
   carefully considered beforehand. But yet these things when prepared
   will be of no use nor allow the lofty height of perfection to be
   properly placed upon them unless a clearance of all faults be first
   undertaken, and the decayed and dead rubbish of the passions be dug up,
   and the strong foundations of simplicity and humility be laid on the
   solid and (so to speak) living soil of our breast, or rather on that
   rock of the gospel, [1585] and by being built in this way this tower of
   spiritual virtues will rise, and be able to stand unmoved, and be
   raised to the utmost heights of heaven in full assurance of its
   stability. For if it rests on such foundations, then though heavy
   storms of passions break over it, though mighty torrents of
   persecutions beat against it like a battering ram, though a furious
   tempest of spiritual foes dash against it and attack it, yet not only
   will no ruin overtake it, but the onslaught will not injure it even in
   the slightest degree.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1584] Cf. S. Luke xiv. 28.

   [1585] Cf. S. Luke vi. 48.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   How pure and sincere prayer can be gained.

   And therefore in order that prayer may be offered up with that
   earnestness and purity with which it ought to be, we must by all means
   observe these rules. First all anxiety about carnal things must be
   entirely got rid of; next we must leave no room for not merely the care
   but even the recollection of any business affairs, and in like manner
   also must lay aside all backbitings, vain and incessant chattering, and
   buffoonery; anger above all and disturbing moroseness must be entirely
   destroyed, and the deadly taint of carnal lust and covetousness be torn
   up by the roots. And so when these and such like faults which are also
   visible to the eyes of men, are entirely removed and cut off, and when
   such a purification and cleansing, as we spoke of, has first taken
   place, which is brought about by pure simplicity and innocence, then
   first there must be laid the secure foundations of a deep humility,
   which may be able to support a tower that shall reach the sky; and next
   the spiritual structure of the virtues must be built up upon them, and
   the soul kept free from all conversation and from roving thoughts that
   thus it may by little and little begin to rise to the contemplation of
   God and to spiritual insight. For whatever our mind has been thinking
   of before the hour of prayer, is sure to occur to us while we are
   praying through the activity of the memory. Wherefore what we want to
   find ourselves like while we are praying, that we ought to prepare
   ourselves to be before the time for prayer. For the mind in prayer is
   formed by its previous condition, and when we are applying ourselves to
   prayer the images of the same actions and words and thoughts will dance
   before our eyes, and make us either angry, as in our previous
   condition, or gloomy, or recall our former lust and business, or make
   us shake with foolish laughter (which I am ashamed to speak of) at some
   silly joke, or smile at some action, or fly back to our previous
   conversation. And therefore if we do not want anything to haunt us
   while we are praying, we should be careful before our prayer, to
   exclude it from the shrine of our heart, that we may thus fulfill the
   Apostle's injunction: "Pray without ceasing;" and: "In every place
   lifting up holy hands without wrath or disputing." [1586] For otherwise
   we shall not be able to carry out that charge unless our mind, purified
   from all stains of sin, and given over to virtue as to its natural
   good, feed on the continual contemplation of Almighty God.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1586] 1 Thess. v. 17; 1 Tim. ii. 8.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   Of the lightness of the soul which may be compared to a wing or
   feather.

   For the nature of the soul is not inaptly compared to a very fine
   feather or very light wing, which, if it has not been damaged or
   affected by being spoilt by any moisture falling on it from without, is
   borne aloft almost naturally to the heights of heaven by the lightness
   of its nature, and the aid of the slightest breath: but if it is
   weighted by any moisture falling upon it and penetrating into it, it
   will not only not be carried away by its natural lightness into any
   aerial flights but will actually be borne down to the depths of earth
   by the weight of the moisture it has received. So also our soul, if it
   is not weighted with faults that touch it, and the cares of this world,
   or damaged by the moisture of injurious lusts, will be raised as it
   were by the natural blessing of its own purity and borne aloft to the
   heights by the light breath of spiritual meditation; and leaving things
   low and earthly will be transported to those that are heavenly and
   invisible. Wherefore we are well warned by the Lord's command: "Take
   heed that your hearts be not weighed down by surfeiting and drunkenness
   and the cares of this world." [1587] And therefore if we want our
   prayers to reach not only the sky, but what is beyond the sky, let us
   be careful to reduce our soul, purged from all earthly faults and
   purified from every stain, to its natural lightness, that so our prayer
   may rise to God unchecked by the weight of any sin.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1587] S. Luke xxi. 34.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   Of the ways in which our soul is weighed down.

   But we should notice the ways in which the Lord points out that the
   soul is weighed down: for He did not mention adultery, or fornication,
   or murder, or blasphemy, or rapine, which everybody knows to be deadly
   and damnable, but surfeiting and drunkenness, and the cares or
   anxieties of this world: which men of this world are so far from
   avoiding or considering damnable that actually some who (I am ashamed
   to say) call themselves monks entangle themselves in these very
   occupations as if they were harmless or useful. And though these three
   things, when literally given way to weigh down the soul, and separate
   it from God, and bear it down to things earthly, yet it is very easy to
   avoid them, especially for us who are separated by so great a distance
   from all converse with this world, and who do not on any occasion have
   anything to do with those visible cares and drunkenness and surfeiting.
   But there is another surfeiting which is no less dangerous, and a
   spiritual drunkenness which it is harder to avoid, and a care and
   anxiety of this world, which often ensnares us even after the perfect
   renunciation of all our goods, and abstinence from wine and all
   feastings and even when we are living in solitude--and of such the
   prophet says: "Awake, ye that are drunk but not with wine;" [1588] and
   another: "Be astonished and wonder and stagger: be drunk and not with
   wine: be moved, but not with drunkenness." [1589] And of this
   drunkenness the wine must consequently be what the prophet calls "the
   fury of dragons": and from what root the wine comes you may hear: "From
   the vineyard of Sodom," he says, "is their vine, and their branches
   from Gomorrha." Would you also know about the fruit of that vine and
   the seed of that branch? "Their grape is a grape of gall, theirs is a
   cluster of bitterness" [1590] for unless we are altogether cleansed
   from all faults and abstaining from the surfeit of all passions, our
   heart will without drunkenness from wine and excess of any feasting be
   weighed down by a drunkenness and surfeiting that is still more
   dangerous. For that worldly cares can sometimes fall on us who mix with
   no actions of this world, is clearly shown according to the rule of the
   Elders, who have laid down that anything which goes beyond the
   necessities of daily food, and the unavoidable needs of the flesh,
   belongs to worldly cares and anxieties, as for example if, when a job
   bringing in a penny would satisfy the needs of our body, we try to
   extend it by a longer toil and work in order to get twopence or
   threepence; and when a covering of two tunics would be enough for our
   use both by night and day, we manage to become the owners of three or
   four, or when a hut containing one or two cells would be sufficient, in
   the pride of worldly ambition and greatness we build four or five
   cells, and these splendidly decorated, and larger than our needs
   required, thus showing the passion of worldly lusts whenever we can.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1588] Joel i. 5.

   [1589] Is. xxix. 9.

   [1590] Deut. xxxii. 32, 33.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   Of the vision which a certain Elder saw concerning the restless work of
   a brother.

   And that this is not done without the prompting of devils we are taught
   by the surest proofs, for when one very highly esteemed Elder was
   passing by the cell of a certain brother who was suffering from this
   mental disease of which we have spoken, as he was restlessly toiling in
   his daily occupations in building and repairing what was unnecessary,
   he watched him from a distance breaking a very hard stone with a heavy
   hammer, and saw a certain Ethiopian standing over him and together with
   him striking the blows of the hammer with joined and clasped hands, and
   urging him on with fiery incitements to diligence in the work: and so
   he stood still for a long while in astonishment at the force of the
   fierce demon and the deceitfulness of such an illusion. For when the
   brother was worn out and tired and wanted to rest and put an end to his
   toil, he was stimulated by the spirit's prompting and urged on to
   resume his hammer again and not to cease from devoting himself to the
   work which he had begun, so that being unweariedly supported by his
   incitements he did not feel the harm that so great labour was doing
   him. At last then the old man, disgusted at such a horrid mystification
   by a demon, turned aside to the brother's cell and saluted him, and
   asked "what work is it, brother, that you are doing?" and he replied:
   "We are working at this awfully hard stone, and we can hardly break it
   at all." Whereupon the Elder replied: "You were right in saying we
   can,' for you were not alone, when you were striking it, but there was
   another with you whom you did not see, who was standing over you not so
   much to help you as urge you on with all his force." And thus the fact
   that the disease of worldly vanity has not got hold of our hearts, will
   be proved by no mere abstinence from those affairs which even if we
   want to engage in, we cannot carry out, nor by the despising of those
   matters which if we pursued them would make us remarkable in the front
   rank among spiritual persons as well as among worldly men, but only
   when we reject with inflexible firmness of mind whatever ministers to
   our power and seems to be veiled in a show of right. And in reality
   these things which seem trivial and of no consequence, and which we see
   to be permitted indifferently by those who belong to our calling, none
   the less by their character affect the soul than those more important
   things, which according to their condition usually intoxicate the
   senses of worldly people and which do not allow [1591] a monk to lay
   aside earthly impurities and aspire to God, on whom his attention
   should ever be fixed; for in his case even a slight separation from
   that highest good must be regarded as present death and most dangerous
   destruction. And when the soul has been established in such a peaceful
   condition, and has been freed from the meshes of all carnal desires,
   and the purpose of the heart has been steadily fixed on that which is
   the only highest good, he will then fulfil this Apostolic precept:
   "Pray without ceasing;" and: "in every place lifting up holy hands
   without wrath and disputing:" [1592] for when by this purity (if we can
   say so) the thoughts of the soul are engrossed, and are re-fashioned
   out of their earthly condition to bear a spiritual and angelic
   likeness, whatever it receives, whatever it takes in hand, whatever it
   does, the prayer will be perfectly pure and sincere.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1591] Sinentes, though the reading of almost all mss. must be an error
   either of the author or of a copyist for sinentia.

   [1592] 1 Thess. v. 17; 1 Tim. ii. 8.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   A question how it is that it is harder work to preserve than to
   originate good thoughts.

   Germanus: If only we could keep as a lasting possession those spiritual
   thoughts in the same way and with the same ease with which we generally
   conceive their germs! for when they have been conceived in our hearts
   either through the recollection of the Scriptures or by the memory of
   some spiritual actions, or by gazing upon heavenly mysteries, they
   vanish all too soon and disappear by a sort of unnoticed flight. And
   when our soul has discovered some other occasions for spiritual
   emotions, different ones again crowd in upon us, and those which we had
   grasped are scattered, and lightly fly away so that the mind retaining
   no persistency, and keeping of its own power no firm hand over holy
   thoughts, must be thought, even when it does seem to retain them for a
   while, to have conceived them at random and not of set purpose. For how
   can we think that their rise should be ascribed to our own will, if
   they do not last and remain with us? But that we may not owing to the
   consideration of this question wander any further from the plan of the
   discourse we had commenced, or delay any longer the explanation
   promised of the nature of prayer, we will keep this for its own time,
   and ask to be informed at once of the character of prayer, especially
   as the blessed Apostle exhorts us at no time to cease from it, saying
   "Pray without ceasing." And so we want to be taught first of its
   character, i.e., how prayer ought always to be offered up, and then how
   we can secure this, whatever it is, and practise it without ceasing.
   For that it cannot be done by any light purpose of heart both daily
   experience and the explanation of four holiness show us, as you have
   laid it down that the aim of a monk, and the height of all perfection
   consist in the consummation of prayer.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Of the different characters of prayer.

   Isaac: I imagine that all kinds of prayers cannot be grasped without
   great purity of heart and soul and the illumination of the Holy Spirit.
   For there are as many of them as there can be conditions and characters
   produced in one soul or rather in all souls. And so although we know
   that owing to our dulness of heart we cannot see all kinds of prayers,
   yet we will try to relate them in some order, as far as our slender
   experience enables us to succeed. For according to the degree of the
   purity to which each soul attains, and the character of the state in
   which it is sunk owing to what happens to it, or is by its own efforts
   renewing itself, its very prayers will each moment be altered: and
   therefore it is quite clear that no one can always offer up uniform
   prayers. For every one prays in one way when he is brisk, in another
   when he is oppressed with a weight of sadness or despair, in another
   when he is invigorated by spiritual achievements, in another when cast
   down by the burden of attacks, in another when he is asking pardon for
   his sins, in another when he asks to obtain grace or some virtue or
   else prays for the destruction of some sin, in another when he is
   pricked to the heart by the thought of hell and the fear of future
   judgment, in another when he is aglow with the hope and desire of good
   things to come, in another when he is taken up with affairs and
   dangers, in another when he is in peace and security, in another when
   he is enlightened by the revelation of heavenly mysteries, and in
   another when he is depressed by a sense of barrenness in virtues and
   dryness in feeling.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   Of the fourfold nature of prayer.

   And therefore, when we have laid this down with regard to the character
   of prayer, although not so fully as the importance of the subject
   requires, but as fully as the exigencies of time permit, and at any
   rate as our slender abilities admit, and our dulness of heart enables
   us,--a still greater difficulty now awaits us; viz., to expound one by
   one the different kinds of prayer, which the Apostle divides in a
   fourfold manner, when he says as follows: "I exhort therefore first of
   all that supplications, prayers, intercessions, thanksgivings be made."
   [1593] And we cannot possibly doubt that this division was not idly
   made by the Apostle. And to begin with we must investigate what is
   meant by supplication, by prayer, by intercession, and by thanksgiving.
   Next we must inquire whether these four kinds are to be taken in hand
   by him who prays all at once, i.e., are they all to be joined together
   in every prayer,--or whether they are to be offered up in turns and one
   by one, as, for instance, ought at one time supplications, at another
   prayers, at another intercessions, and at another thanksgivings to be
   offered, or should one man present to God supplications, another
   prayers, another intercessions, another thanksgivings, in accordance
   with that measure of age, to which each soul is advancing by
   earnestness of purpose?
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1593] 1 Tim. ii. 1.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   Of the order of the different kinds laid down with regard to the
   character of prayer.

   And so to begin with we must consider the actual force of the names and
   words, and discuss what is the difference between prayer and
   supplication and intercession; then in like manner we must investigate
   whether they are to be offered separately or all together; and in the
   third place must examine whether the particular order which is thus
   arranged by the Apostle's authority has anything further to teach the
   hearer, or whether the distinction simply is to be taken, and it should
   be considered that they were arranged by him indifferently in such a
   way: a thing which seems to me utterly absurd. For one must not believe
   that the Holy Spirit uttered anything casually or without reason
   through the Apostle. And so we will, as the Lord grants us, consider
   them in the same order in which we began.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   Of Supplications.

   "I exhort therefore first of all that supplications be made."
   Supplication is an imploring or petition concerning sins, in which one
   who is sorry for his present or past deeds asks for pardon.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   Of Prayer.

   Prayers are those by which we offer or vow something to God, what the
   Greeks call euke, i.e., a vow. For where we read in Greek ias eukas mou
   to kurio apodoso, in Latin we read: "I will pay my vows unto the Lord;"
   [1594] where according to the exact force of the words it may be thus
   represented: "I will pay my prayers unto the Lord." And this which we
   find in Ecclesiastes: "If thou vowest a vow unto the Lord do not delay
   to pay it," is written in Greek likewise: ean euxe euchen to kurio,
   i.e., "If thou prayest a prayer unto the Lord, do not delay to pay it,"
   [1595] which will be fulfilled in this way by each one of us. We pray,
   when we renounce this world and promise that being dead to all worldly
   actions and the life of this world we will serve the Lord with full
   purpose of heart. We pray when we promise that despising secular
   honours and scorning earthly riches we will cleave to the Lord in all
   sorrow of heart and humility of spirit. We pray when we promise that we
   will ever maintain the most perfect purity of body and steadfast
   patience, or when we vow that we will utterly root out of our heart the
   roots of anger or of sorrow that worketh death. And if, enervated by
   sloth and returning to our former sins we fail to do this we shall be
   guilty as regards our prayers and vows, and these words will apply to
   us: "It is better not to vow, than to vow and not to pay," which can be
   rendered in accordance with the Greek: "It is better for thee not to
   pray than to pray and not to pay." [1596]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1594] Ps. cxv. 4 (cxvi. 14).

   [1595] Eccl. v. 3.

   [1596] Ibid. ver. 4.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   Of Intercession.

   In the third place stand intercessions, which we are wont to offer up
   for others also, while we are filled with fervour of spirit, making
   request either for those dear to us or for the peace of the whole
   world, and to use the Apostle's own phrase, we pray "for all men, for
   kings and all that are in authority." [1597]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1597] 1 Tim. ii. 1, 2.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   Of Thanksgiving.

   Then in the fourth place there stand thanksgivings which the mind in
   ineffable transports offers up to God, either when it recalls God's
   past benefits or when it contemplates His present ones, or when it
   looks forward to those great ones in the future which God has prepared
   for them that love Him. And with this purpose too sometimes we are wont
   to pour forth richer prayers, while, as we gaze with pure eyes on those
   rewards of the saints which are laid up in store hereafter, our spirit
   is stimulated to offer up unspeakable thanks to God with boundless joy.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   Whether these four kinds of prayers are necessary for everyone to offer
   all at once or separately and in turns.

   And of these four kinds, although sometimes occasions arise for richer
   and fuller prayers (for from the class of supplications which arises
   from sorrow for sin, and from the kind of prayer which flows from
   confidence in our offerings and the performance of our vows in
   accordance with a pure conscience, and from the intercession which
   proceeds from fervour of love, and from the thanksgiving which is born
   of the consideration of God's blessings and His greatness and goodness,
   we know that oftentimes there proceed most fervent and ardent prayers
   so that it is clear that all these kinds of prayer of which we have
   spoken are found to be useful and needful for all men, so that in one
   and the same man his changing feelings will give utterance to pure and
   fervent petitions now of supplications, now of prayers, now of
   intercessions) yet the first seems to belong more especially to
   beginners, who are still troubled by the stings and recollection of
   their sins; the second to those who have already attained some
   loftiness of mind in their spiritual progress and the quest of virtue;
   the third to those who fulfil the completion of their vows by their
   works, and are so stimulated to intercede for others also through the
   consideration of their weakness, and the earnestness of their love; the
   fourth to those who have already torn from their hearts the guilty
   thorns of conscience, and thus being now free from care can contemplate
   with a pure mind the beneficence of God and His compassions, which He
   has either granted in the past, or is giving in the present, or
   preparing for the future, and thus are borne onward with fervent hearts
   to that ardent prayer which cannot be embraced or expressed by the
   mouth of men. Sometimes however the mind which is advancing to that
   perfect state of purity and which is already beginning to be
   established in it, will take in all these at one and the same time, and
   like some incomprehensible and all-devouring flame, dart through them
   all and offer up to God inexpressible prayers of the purest force,
   which the Spirit Itself, intervening with groanings that cannot be
   uttered, while we ourselves understand not, pours forth to God,
   grasping at that hour and ineffably pouring forth in its supplications
   things so great that they cannot be uttered with the mouth nor even at
   any other time be recollected by the mind. And thence it comes that in
   whatever degree any one stands, he is found sometimes to offer up pure
   and devout prayers; as even in that first and lowly station which has
   to do with the recollection of future judgment, he who still remains
   under the punishment of terror and the fear of judgment is so smitten
   with sorrow for the time being that he is filled with no less keenness
   of spirit from the richness of his supplications than he who through
   the purity of his heart gazes on and considers the blessings of God and
   is overcome with ineffable joy and delight. For, as the Lord Himself
   says, he begins to love the more, who knows that he has been forgiven
   the more. [1598]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1598] Cf. S. Luke vii. 47.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   Of the kinds of prayer to which we ought to direct ourselves.

   Yet we ought by advancing in life and attaining to virtue to aim rather
   at those kinds of prayer which are poured forth either from the
   contemplation of the good things to come or from fervour of love, or
   which at least, to speak more humbly and in accordance with the measure
   of beginners, arise for the acquirement of some virtue or the
   extinction of some fault. For otherwise we shall not possibly attain to
   those sublimer kinds of supplication of which we spoke, unless our mind
   has been little by little and by degrees raised through the regular
   course of those intercessions.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   How the four kinds of supplication were originated by the Lord.

   These four kinds of supplication the Lord Himself by His own example
   vouchsafed to originate for us, so that in this too He might fulfil
   that which was said of Him: "which Jesus began both to do and to
   teach." [1599] For He made use of the class of supplication when He
   said: "Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me;" or this
   which is chanted in His Person in the Psalm: "My God, My God, look upon
   Me, why hast Thou forsaken me," [1600] and others like it. It is prayer
   where He says: "I have magnified Thee upon the earth, I have finished
   the work which Thou gavest Me to do," and this: "And for their sakes I
   sanctify Myself that they also may be sanctified in the truth." [1601]
   It is intercession when He says: "Father, those Whom Thou hast given
   me, I will that they also may be with Me that they may see My glory
   which Thou hast given Me;" or at any rate when He says: "Father,
   forgive them for they know not what they do." [1602] It is thanksgiving
   when He says: "I confess to Thee, Father, Lord of heaven and earth,
   that Thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast
   revealed them unto babes. Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in Thy
   sight:" or at least when He says: "Father, I thank Thee that Thou hast
   heard Me. But I knew that Thou hearest Me always." [1603] But though
   our Lord made a distinction between these four kinds of prayers as to
   be offered separately and one by one according to the scheme which we
   know of, yet that they can all be embraced in a perfect prayer at one
   and the same time He showed by His own example in that prayer which at
   the close of S. John's gospel we read that He offered up with such
   fulness. From the words of which (as it is too long to repeat it all)
   the careful inquirer can discover by the order of the passage that this
   is so. And the Apostle also in his Epistle to the Philippians has
   expressed the same meaning, by putting these four kinds of prayers in a
   slightly different order, and has shown that they ought sometimes to be
   offered together in the fervour of a single prayer, saying as follows:
   "But in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let
   your requests be made known unto God." [1604] And by this he wanted us
   especially to understand that in prayer and supplication thanksgiving
   ought to be mingled with our requests.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1599] Acts i. 1.

   [1600] S. Matt. xxvi. 39; Ps. xxi. (xxii.) 2.

   [1601] S. John xvii. 4, 19.

   [1602] Ib. 24; S. Luke xxiii. 34.

   [1603] S. Matt. xi. 25, 26; S. John xi. 41, 42.

   [1604] Phil. iv. 6.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   Of the Lord's Prayer.

   And so there follows after these different kinds of supplication a
   still more sublime and exalted condition which is brought about by the
   contemplation of God alone and by fervent love, by which the mind,
   transporting and flinging itself into love for Him, addresses God most
   familiarly as its own Father with a piety of its own. And that we ought
   earnestly to seek after this condition the formula of the Lord's prayer
   teaches us, saying "Our Father." When then we confess with our own
   mouths that the God and Lord of the universe is our Father, we profess
   forthwith that we have been called from our condition as slaves to the
   adoption of sons, adding next "Which art in heaven," that, by shunning
   with the utmost horror all lingering in this present life, which we
   pass upon this earth as a pilgrimage, and what separates us by a great
   distance from our Father, we may the rather hasten with all eagerness
   to that country where we confess that our Father dwells, and may not
   allow anything of this kind, which would make us unworthy of this our
   profession and the dignity of an adoption of this kind, and so deprive
   us as a disgrace to our Father's inheritance, and make us incur the
   wrath of His justice and severity. To which state and condition of
   sonship when we have advanced, we shall forthwith be inflamed with the
   piety which belongs to good sons, so that we shall bend all our
   energies to the advance not of our own profit, but of our Father's
   glory, saying to Him: "Hallowed be Thy name," testifying that our
   desire and our joy is His glory, becoming imitators of Him who said:
   "He who speaketh of himself, seeketh his own glory. But He who seeks
   the glory of Him who sent Him, the same is true and there is no
   unrighteousness in Him." [1605] Finally the chosen vessel being filled
   with this feeling wished that he could be anathema from Christ [1606]
   if only the people belonging to Him might be increased and multiplied,
   and the salvation of the whole nation of Israel accrue to the glory of
   His Father; for with all assurance could he wish to die for Christ as
   he knew that no one perished for life. And again he says: "We rejoice
   when we are weak but ye are strong." [1607] And what wonder if the
   chosen vessel wished to be anathema from Christ for the sake of
   Christ's glory and the conversion of His own brethren and the privilege
   of the nation, when the prophet Micah wished that he might be a liar
   and a stranger to the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, if only the people
   of the Jews might escape those plagues and the going forth into
   captivity which he had announced in his prophecy, saying: "Would that I
   were not a man that hath the Spirit, and that I rather spoke a lie;"
   [1608] --to pass over that wish of the Lawgiver, who did not refuse to
   die together with his brethren who were doomed to death, saying: "I
   beseech Thee, O Lord; this people hath sinned a heinous sin; either
   forgive them this trespass, or if Thou do not, blot me out of Thy book
   which Thou hast written." [1609] But where it is said "Hallowed be Thy
   name," it may also be very fairly taken in this way: "The hallowing of
   God is our perfection." And so when we say to Him "Hallowed be Thy
   name" we say in other words, make us, O Father, such that we maybe able
   both to understand and take in what the hallowing of Thee is, or at any
   rate that Thou mayest be seen to be hallowed in our spiritual converse.
   And this is effectually fulfilled in our case when "men see our good
   works, and glorify our Father Which is in heaven." [1610]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1605] S. John vii. 18.

   [1606] Cf. Rom. ix. 3.

   [1607] 2 Cor. xiii. 9.

   [1608] Micah ii. 11.

   [1609] Exod. xxxii. 31, 32.

   [1610] S. Matt. v. 16.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   Of the clause "Thy kingdom come."

   The second petition of the pure heart desires that the kingdom of its
   Father may come at once; viz., either that whereby Christ reigns day by
   day in the saints (which comes to pass when the devil's rule is cast
   out of our hearts by the destruction of foul sins, and God begins to
   hold sway over us by the sweet odour of virtues, and, fornication being
   overcome, charity reigns in our hearts together with tranquillity, when
   rage is conquered; and humility, when pride is trampled under foot) or
   else that which is promised in due time to all who are perfect, and to
   all the sons of God, when it will be said to them by Christ: "Come ye
   blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the
   foundation of the world;" [1611] (as the heart) with fixed and
   steadfast gaze, so to speak, yearns and longs for it and says to Him
   "Thy kingdom come." For it knows by the witness of its own conscience
   that when He shall appear, it will presently share His lot. For no
   guilty person would dare either to say or to wish for this, for no one
   would want to face the tribunal of the Judge, who knew that at His
   coming he would forthwith receive not the prize or reward of his merits
   but only punishment.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1611] S. Matt. xxv. 34.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   Of the clause "Thy will be done."

   The third petition is that of sons: "Thy will be done as in heaven so
   on earth." There can now be no grander prayer than to wish that earthly
   things may be made equal with things heavenly: for what else is it to
   say "Thy will be done as in heaven so on earth," than to ask that men
   may be like angels and that as God's will is ever fulfilled by them in
   heaven, so also all those who are on earth may do not their own but His
   will? This too no one could say from the heart but only one who
   believed that God disposes for our good all things which are seen,
   whether fortunate or unfortunate, and that He is more careful and
   provident for our good and salvation than we ourselves are for
   ourselves. Or at any rate it may be taken in this way: The will of God
   is the salvation of all men, according to these words of the blessed
   Paul: "Who willeth all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of
   the truth." [1612] Of which will also the prophet Isaiah says in the
   Person of God the Father: "And all Thy will shall be done." [1613] When
   we say then "Thy will be done as in heaven so on earth," we pray in
   other words for this; viz., that as those who are in heaven, so also
   may all those who dwell on earth be saved, O Father, by the knowledge
   of Thee.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1612] 1 Tim. ii. 4.

   [1613] Is. xlvi. 10.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   Of our supersubstantial or daily bread.

   Next: "Give us this day our bread which is epiousion," i.e.,
   "supersubstantial," which another Evangelist calls "daily." [1614] The
   former indicates the quality of its nobility and substance, in virtue
   of which it is above all substances and the loftiness of its grandeur
   and holiness exceeds all creatures, while the latter intimates the
   purpose of its use and value. For where it says "daily" it shows that
   without it we cannot live a spiritual life for a single day. Where it
   says "today" it shows that it must be received daily and that
   yesterday's supply of it is not enough, but at it must be given to us
   today also in like manner. And our daily need of it suggests to us that
   we ought at all times to offer up this prayer, because there is no day
   on which we have no need to strengthen the heart of our inner man, by
   eating and receiving it, although the expression used, "today" may be
   taken to apply to his present life, i.e., while we are living in this
   world supply us with this bread. For we know that it will be given to
   those who deserve it by Thee hereafter, but we ask that Thou wouldest
   grant it to us today, because unless it has been vouchsafed to a man to
   receive it in this life he will never be partaker of it in that.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1614] Here Cassian is relying entirely on Jerome's revised text of the
   Latin, which has supersubstantialis  in S. Matt. vi. 11, as the
   rendering of epiousios but translates the same word by quotidianum in
   the parallel passage in S. Luke xi. 3. It is curious that Cassian
   should have been thus misled, with his knowledge of Greek, as well as
   his acquaintance with the old Latin version which has quotidianum in
   both gospels. Cf. Bishop Lightfoot "On a Fresh Revision of the New
   Testament," p. 219.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   Of the clause: "Forgive us our debts, etc."

   "And forgive us our debts as we also forgive our debtors." O
   unspeakable mercy of God, which has not only given us a form of prayer
   and taught us a system of life acceptable to Him, and by the
   requirements of the form given, in which He charged us always to pray,
   has torn up the roots of both anger and sorrow, but also gives to those
   who pray an opportunity and reveals to them a way by which they may
   move a merciful and kindly judgment of God to be pronounced over them
   and which somehow gives us a power by which we can moderate the
   sentence of our Judge, drawing Him to forgive our offences by the
   example of our forgiveness: when we say to Him: "Forgive us as we also
   forgive." And so without anxiety and in confidence from this prayer a
   man may ask for pardon of his own offences, if he has been forgiving
   towards his own debtors, and not towards those of his Lord. For some of
   us, which is very bad, are inclined to show ourselves calm and most
   merciful in regard to those things which are done to God's detriment,
   however great the crimes may be, but to be found most hard and
   inexorable exactors of debts to ourselves even in the case of the most
   trifling wrongs. Whoever then does not from his heart forgive his
   brother who has offended him, by this prayer calls down upon himself
   not forgiveness but condemnation, and by his own profession asks that
   he himself may be judged more severely, saying: Forgive me as I also
   have forgiven. And if he is repaid according to his own request, what
   else will follow but that he will be punished after his own example
   with implacable wrath and a sentence that cannot be remitted? And so if
   we want to be judged mercifully, we ought also to be merciful towards
   those who have sinned against us. For only so much will be remitted to
   us, as we have remitted to those who have injured us however
   spitefully. And some dreading this, when this prayer is chanted by all
   the people in church, silently omit this clause, for fear lest they may
   seem by their own utterance to bind themselves rather than to excuse
   themselves, as they do not understand that it is in vain that they try
   to offer these quibbles to the Judge of all men, who has willed to show
   us beforehand how He will judge His suppliants. For as He does not wish
   to be found harsh and inexorable towards them, He has marked out the
   manner of His judgment, that just as we desire to be judged by Him, so
   we should also judge our brethren, if they have wronged us in anything,
   for "he shall have judgment without mercy who hath shown no mercy."
   [1615]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1615] S. James ii. 13.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIII.

   Of the clause: "Lead us not into temptation."

   Next there follows: "And lead us not into temptation," on which there
   arises no unimportant question, for if we pray that we may not be
   suffered to be tempted, how then will our power of endurance be proved,
   according to this text: "Every one who is not tempted is not proved;"
   [1616] and again: "Blessed is the man that endureth temptation?" [1617]
   The clause then, "Lead us not into temptation," does not mean this;
   viz., do not permit us ever to be tempted, but do not permit us when we
   fall into temptation to be overcome. For Job was tempted, but was not
   led into temptation. For he did not ascribe folly to God nor blasphemy,
   nor with impious mouth did he yield to that wish of the tempter toward
   which he was drawn. Abraham was tempted, Joseph was tempted, but
   neither of them was led into temptation for neither of them yielded his
   consent to the tempter. Next there follows: "But deliver us from evil,"
   i.e., do not suffer us to be tempted by the devil above that we are
   able, but "make with the temptation a way also of escape that we may be
   able to bear it." [1618]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1616] Ecclus. xxxiv. 11.

   [1617] S. James i. 12.

   [1618] 1 Cor. x. 13.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIV.

   How we ought not to ask for other things, except only those which are
   contained in the limits of the Lord's Prayer.

   You see then what is the method and form of prayer proposed to us by
   the Judge Himself, who is to be prayed to by it, a form in which there
   is contained no petition for riches, no thought of honours, no request
   for power and might, no mention of bodily health and of temporal life.
   For He who is the Author of Eternity would have men ask of Him nothing
   uncertain, nothing paltry, and nothing temporal. And so a man will
   offer the greatest insult to His Majesty and Bounty, if he leaves on
   one side these eternal petitions and chooses rather to ask of Him
   something transitory and uncertain; and will also incur the indignation
   rather than the propitiation of the Judge by the pettiness of his
   prayer.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXV.

   Of the character of the sublimer prayer.

   This prayer then though it seems to contain all the fulness of
   perfection, as being what was originated and appointed by the Lord's
   own authority, yet lifts those to whom it belongs to that still higher
   condition of which we spoke above, and carries them on by a loftier
   stage to that ardent prayer which is known and tried by but very few,
   and which to speak more truly is ineffable; which transcends all human
   thoughts, and is distinguished, I will not say by any sound of the
   voice, but by no movement of the tongue, or utterance of words, but
   which the mind enlightened by the infusion of that heavenly light
   describes in no human and confined language, but pours forth richly as
   from copious fountain in an accumulation of thoughts, and ineffably
   utters to God, expressing in the shortest possible space of time such
   great things that the mind when it returns to its usual condition
   cannot easily utter or relate. And this condition our Lord also
   similarly prefigured by the form of those supplications which, when he
   retired alone in the mountain He is said to have poured forth in
   silence, and when being in an agony of prayer He shed forth even drops
   of blood, as an example of a purpose which it is hard to imitate.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVI.

   Of the different causes of conviction.

   But who is able, with whatever experience he may be endowed, to give a
   sufficient account of the varieties and reasons and grounds of
   conviction, by which the mind is inflamed and set on fire and incited
   to pure and most fervent prayers? And of these we will now by way of
   specimen set forth a few, as far as we can by God's enlightenment
   recollect them. For sometimes a verse of any one of the Psalms gives us
   an occasion of ardent prayer while we are singing. Sometimes the
   harmonious modulation of a brother's voice stirs up the minds of
   dullards to intense supplication. We know also that the enunciation and
   the reverence of the chanter adds greatly to the fervour of those who
   stand by. Moreover the exhortation of a perfect man, and a spiritual
   conference has often raised the affections of those present to the
   richest prayer. We know too that by the death of a brother or some one
   dear to us, we are no less carried away to full conviction. The
   recollection also of our coldness and carelessness has sometimes
   aroused in us a healthful fervour of spirit. And in this way no one can
   doubt that numberless opportunities are not wanting, by which through
   God's grace the coldness and sleepiness of our minds can be shaken off.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVII.

   Of the different sorts of conviction.

   But how and in what way those very convictions are produced from the
   inmost recesses of the soul it is no less difficult to trace out. For
   often through some inexpressible delight and keenness of spirit the
   fruit of a most salutary conviction arises so that it actually breaks
   forth into shouts owing to the greatness of its incontrollable joy; and
   the delight of the heart and greatness of exultation makes itself heard
   even in the cell of a neighbour. But sometimes the mind hides itself in
   complete silence within the secrets of a profound quiet, so that the
   amazement of a sudden illumination chokes all sounds of words and the
   overawed spirit either keeps all its feelings to itself or loses [1619]
   them and pours forth its desires to God with groanings that cannot be
   uttered. But sometimes it is filled with such overwhelming conviction
   and grief that it cannot express it except by floods of tears.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1619] Petschenig's text reads "amittat." v. l. emittat.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVIII.

   A question about the fact that a plentiful supply of tears is not in
   our own power.

   Germanus: My own poor self indeed is not altogether ignorant of this
   feeling of conviction. For often when tears arise at the recollection
   of my faults, I have been by the Lord's visitation so refreshed by this
   ineffable joy which you describe that the greatness of the joy has
   assured me that I ought not to despair of their forgiveness. Than which
   state of mind I think there is nothing more sublime if only it could be
   recalled at our own will. For sometimes when I am desirous to stir
   myself up with all my power to the same conviction and tears, and place
   before my eyes all my faults and sins, I am unable to bring back that
   copiousness of tears, and so my eyes are dry and hard like some hardest
   flint, so that not a single tear trickles from them. And so in
   proportion as I congratulate myself on that copiousness of tears, just
   so do I mourn that I cannot bring it back again whenever I wish.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIX.

   The answer on the varieties of conviction which spring from tears.

   Isaac: Not every kind of shedding of tears is produced by one feeling
   or one virtue. For in one way does that weeping originate which is
   caused by the pricks of our sins smiting our heart, of which we read:
   "I have laboured in my groanings, every night I will wash my bed; I
   will water my couch with my tears." [1620] And again: "Let tears run
   down like a torrent day and night: give thyself no rest, and let not
   the apple of thine eye cease." [1621] In another, that which arises
   from the contemplation of eternal good things and the desire of that
   future glory, owing to which even richer well-springs of tears burst
   forth from uncontrollable delights and boundless exultation, while our
   soul is athirst for the mighty Living God, saying, "When shall I come
   and appear before the presence of God? My tears have been my meat day
   and night," [1622] declaring with daily crying and lamentation: "Woe is
   me that my sojourning is prolonged;" and: "Too long hath my soul been a
   sojourner." [1623] In another way do the tears flow forth, which
   without any conscience of deadly sin, yet still proceed from the fear
   of hell and the recollection of that terrible judgment, with the terror
   of which the prophet was smitten and prayed to God, saying: "Enter not
   into judgment with Thy servant, for in Thy sight shall no man living be
   justified." [1624] There is too another kind of tears, which are caused
   not by knowledge of one's self but by the hardness and sins of others;
   whereby Samuel is described as having wept for Saul, and both the Lord
   in the gospel and Jeremiah in former days for the city of Jerusalem,
   the latter thus saying: "Oh, that my head were water and mine eyes a
   fountain of tears! And I will weep day and night for the slain of the
   daughter of my people." [1625] Or also such as were those tears of
   which we hear in the hundred and first Psalm: "For I have eaten ashes
   for my bread, and mingled my cup with weeping." [1626] And these were
   certainty not caused by the same feeling as those which arise in the
   sixth Psalm from the person of the penitent, but were due to the
   anxieties of this life and its distresses and losses, by which the
   righteous who are living in this world are oppressed. And this is
   clearly shown not only by the words of the Psalm itself, but also by
   its title, which runs as follows in the character of that poor person
   of whom it is said in the gospel that "blessed are the poor in spirit,
   for theirs is the kingdom of heaven:" [1627] "A prayer of the poor when
   he was in distress and poured forth his prayer to God." [1628]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1620] Ps. vi. 7.

   [1621] Lam. ii. 18.

   [1622] Ps. xii. (xliii.) 3, 4.

   [1623] Ps. cix. (cxix.) 5, 6.

   [1624] Ps. cxlii. (cxliii.) 2.

   [1625] Jer. ix. 1.

   [1626] Ps. ci. (cii.) 10.

   [1627] S. Matt. v. 3.

   [1628] Ps. ci. (cii.) 1.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXX.

   How tears ought not to be squeezed out, when they do not flow
   spontaneously.

   From these tears those are vastly different which are squeezed out from
   dry eyes while the heart is hard: and although we cannot believe that
   these are altogether fruitless (for the attempt to shed them is made
   with a good intention, especially by those who have not yet been able
   to attain to perfect knowledge or to be thoroughly cleansed from the
   stains of past or present sins), yet certainly the flow of tears ought
   not to be thus forced out by those who have already advanced to the
   love of virtue, nor should the weeping of the outward man be with great
   labour attempted, as even if it is produced it will never attain the
   rich copiousness of spontaneous tears. For it will rather cast down the
   soul of the suppliant by his endeavours, and humiliate him, and plunge
   him in human affairs and draw him away from the celestial heights,
   wherein the awed mind of one who prays should be steadfastly fixed, and
   will force it to relax its hold on its prayers and grow sick from
   barren and forced tears.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXI.

   The opinion of Abbot Antony on the condition of prayer.

   And that you may see the character of true prayer I will give you not
   my own opinion but that of the blessed Antony: whom we have known
   sometimes to have been so persistent in prayer that often as he was
   praying in a transport of mind, when the sunrise began to appear, we
   have heard him in the fervour of his spirit declaiming: Why do you
   hinder me, O sun, who art arising for this very purpose; viz., to
   withdraw me from the brightness of this true light? And his also is
   this heavenly and more than human utterance on the end of prayer: That
   is not, said he, a perfect prayer, wherein a monk understands himself
   and the words which he prays. And if we too, as far as our slender
   ability allows, may venture to add anything to this splendid utterance,
   we will bring forward the marks of prayer which are heard from the
   Lord, as far as we have tried them.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXII.

   Of the proof of prayer being heard.

   When, while we are praying, no hesitation intervenes and breaks down
   the confidence of our petition by a sort of despair, but we feel that
   by pouring forth our prayer we have obtained what we are asking for, we
   have no doubt that our prayers have effectually reached God. For so far
   will one be heard and obtain an answer, as he believes that he is
   regarded by God, and that God can grant it. For this saying of our Lord
   cannot be retracted: "Whatsoever ye ask when ye pray, believe that you
   shall receive, and they shall come to you." [1629]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1629] S. Mark xi. 24.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXIII.

   An objection that the confidence of being thus heard as described
   belongs only to saints.

   Germanus: We certainly believe that this confidence of being heard
   flows from purity of conscience, but for us, whose heart is still
   smitten by the pricks of sins, how can we have it, as we have no merits
   to plead for us, whereby we might confidently presume that our prayers
   would be heard?
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXIV.

   Answer on the different reasons for prayer being heard.

   Isaac: That there are different reasons for prayer being heard in
   accordance with the varied and changing condition of souls the words of
   the gospels and of the prophets teach us. For you have the fruits of an
   answer pointed out by our Lord's words in the case of the agreement of
   two persons; as it is said: "If two of you shall agree upon earth
   touching anything for which they shall ask, it shall be done for them
   of my Father which is in heaven." [1630] You have another in the
   fulness of faith, which is compared to a grain of mustard-seed. "For,"
   He says, "if you have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say
   unto this mountain: Be thou removed, and it shall be removed; and
   nothing shall be impossible to you." [1631] You have it in continuance
   in prayer, which the Lord's words call, by reason of unwearied
   perseverance in petitioning, importunity: "For, verily, I say unto you
   that if not because of his friendship, yet because of his importunity
   he will rise and give him as much as he needs." [1632] You have it in
   the fruits of almsgiving: "Shut up alms in the heart of the poor and it
   shall pray for thee in the time of tribulation." [1633] You have it in
   the purifying of life and in works of mercy, as it is said: "Loose the
   bands of wickedness, undo the bundles that oppress;" and after a few
   words in which the barrenness of an unfruitful fast is rebuked, "then,"
   he says, "thou shalt call and the Lord shall hear thee; thou shalt cry,
   and He shall say, Here am I." [1634] Sometimes also excess of trouble
   causes it to be heard, as it is said: "When I was in trouble I called
   unto the Lord, and He heard me;" [1635] and again: "Afflict not the
   stranger for if he crieth unto Me, I will hear him, for I am merciful."
   [1636] You see then in how many ways the gift of an answer may be
   obtained, so that no one need be crushed by the despair of his
   conscience for securing those things which are salutary and eternal.
   For if in contemplating our wretchedness I admit that we are utterly
   destitute of all those virtues which we mentioned above, and that we
   have neither that laudable agreement of two persons, nor that faith
   which is compared to a grain of mustard seed, nor those works of piety
   which the prophet describes, surely we cannot be without that
   importunity which He supplies to all who desire it, owing to which
   alone the Lord promises that He will give whatever He has been prayed
   to give. And therefore we ought without unbelieving hesitation to
   persevere, and not to have the least doubt that by continuing in them
   we shall obtain all those things which we have asked according to the
   mind of God. For the Lord, in His desire to grant what is heavenly and
   eternal, urges us to constrain Him as it were by our importunity, as He
   not only does not despise or reject the importunate, but actually
   welcomes and praises them, and most graciously promises to grant
   whatever they have perseveringly hoped for; saying, "Ask and ye shall
   receive: seek and ye shall find: knock and it shall be opened unto you.
   For every one that asketh receiveth, and he that seeketh findeth, and
   to him that knocketh it shall be opened;" [1637] and again: "All things
   whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer believing ye shall receive, and
   nothing shall be impossible to you." [1638] And therefore even if all
   the grounds for being heard which we have mentioned are altogether
   wanting, at any rate the earnestness of importunity may animate us, as
   this is placed in the power of any one who wills without the
   difficulties of any merits or labours. But let not any suppliant doubt
   that he certainly will not be heard, so long as he doubts whether he is
   heard. But that this also shall be sought from the Lord unweariedly, we
   are taught by the example of the blessed Daniel, as, though he was
   heard from the first day on which he began to pray, he only obtained
   the result of his petition after one and twenty days. [1639] Wherefore
   we also ought not to grow slack in the earnestness of the prayers we
   have begun, if we fancy that the answer comes but slowly, for fear lest
   perhaps the gift of the answer be in God's providence delayed, or the
   angel, who was to bring the Divine blessing to us, may when he comes
   forth from the Presence of the Almighty be hindered by the resistance
   of the devil, as it is certain that he cannot transmit and bring to us
   the desired boon, if he finds that we slack off from the earnestness of
   the petition made. And this would certainly have happened to the above
   mentioned prophet unless he had with incomparable steadfastness
   prolonged and persevered in his prayers until the twenty-first day. Let
   us then not be at all cast down by despair from the confidence of this
   faith of ours, even when we fancy that we are far from having obtained
   what we prayed for, and let us not have any doubts about the Lord's
   promise where He says: "All things, whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer
   believing, ye shall receive." [1640] For it is well for us to consider
   this saying of the blessed Evangelist John, by which the ambiguity of
   this question is clearly solved: "This is," he says, "the confidence
   which we have in Him, that whatsoever we ask according to His will, He
   heareth us." [1641] He bids us then have a full and undoubting
   confidence of the answer only in those things which are not for our own
   advantage or for temporal comforts, but are in conformity to the Lord's
   will. And we are also taught to put this into our prayers by the Lord's
   Prayer, where we say "Thy will be done,"--Thine not ours. For if we
   also remember these words of the Apostle that "we know not what to pray
   for as we ought" [1642] we shall see that we sometimes ask for things
   opposed to our salvation and that we are most providentially refused
   our requests by Him who sees what is good for us with greater right and
   truth than we can. And it is clear that this also happened to the
   teacher of the Gentiles when he prayed that the messenger of Satan who
   had been for his good allowed by the Lord's will to buffet him, might
   be removed, saying: "For which I besought the Lord thrice that he might
   depart from me. And He said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee,
   for strength is made perfect in weakness." [1643] And this feeling even
   our Lord expressed when He prayed in the character [1644] of man which
   He had taken, that He might give us a form of prayer as other things
   also by His example; saying thus: "Father, if it be possible, let this
   cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will but as Thou wilt," [1645]
   though certainly His will was not discordant with His Father's will,
   "For He had come to save what was lost and to give His life a ransom
   for many;" [1646] as He Himself says: "No man taketh my life from Me,
   but I lay it down of Myself. I have power to lay it down and I have
   power to take it again." [1647] In which character there is in the
   thirty-ninth Psalm the following sung by the blessed David, of the
   Unity of will which He ever maintained with the Father: "To do Thy
   will: O My God, I am willing." [1648] For even if we read of the
   Father: "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten
   Son," [1649] we find none the less of the Son: "Who gave Himself for
   our sins." [1650] And as it is said of the One: "Who spared not His own
   Son, but gave Him for all of us," [1651] so it is written of the other:
   "He was offered because He Himself willed it." [1652] And it is shown
   that the will of the Father and of the Son is in all things one, so
   that even in the actual mystery of the Lord's resurrection we are
   taught that there was no discord of operation. For just as the blessed
   Apostle declares that the Father brought about the resurrection of His
   body, saying: "And God the Father, who raised Him from the dead,"
   [1653] so also the Son testifies that He Himself will raise again the
   Temple of His body, saying: "Destroy this temple, and in three days I
   will raise it up again." [1654] And therefore we being instructed by
   all these examples of our Lord which have been enumerated ought to end
   our supplications also with the same prayer, and always to subjoin this
   clause to all our petitions: "Nevertheless not as I will, but as Thou
   wilt." [1655] But it is clear enough that one who does not [1656] pray
   with attention of mind cannot observe that threefold reverence [1657]
   which is usually practised in the assemblies of the brethren at the
   close of service.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1630] S. Matt. xviii. 19.

   [1631] S. Matt. xvii. 19.

   [1632] S. Luke xi. 8.

   [1633] Ecclus. xxix. 15.

   [1634] Is. lviii. 6, 9.

   [1635] Ps. cxix. (cxx.) 1.

   [1636] Exod. xxii. 21, 27.

   [1637] S. Luke xi. 9, 10.

   [1638] S. Matt. xxi. 22; xvii. 20.

   [1639] Cf. Dan. x. 2 sq.

   [1640] S. Matt. xxi. 22.

   [1641] 1 John v. 16.

   [1642] Rom. viii. 26.

   [1643] 2 Cor. xii. 8, 9.

   [1644] Ex persona hominis assumpti. The language is scarcely accurate,
   but it must be remembered that the Conferences were written before the
   rise of the Nestorian heresy had shown the need for exactness of
   expression on the subject of the Incarnation. Compare the note on
   "Against Nestorius," Book III. c. iii.

   [1645] S. Matt. xxvi. 39.

   [1646] S. Matt. xviii. 11; xx. 28.

   [1647] S. John x. 18.

   [1648] Ps. xxxix. (xl.) 9.

   [1649] 1 John iii. 16.

   [1650] Gal. i. 4.

   [1651] Rom. viii. 32.

   [1652] Is. liii. 7. (Lat.)

   [1653] Gal. i. 1.

   [1654] S. John ii. 19.

   [1655] S. Matt. xxvi. 39.

   [1656] "Non" though wanting in most mss. must be read in the text.

   [1657] Reading "curvationis" with Petschenig: the text of Gazaeus has
   "orationis."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXV.

   Of prayer to be offered within the chamber and with the door shut.

   Before all things however we ought most carefully to observe the
   Evangelic precept, which tells us to enter into our chamber and shut
   the door and pray to our Father, which may be fulfilled by us as
   follows: We pray within our chamber, when removing our hearts inwardly
   from the din of all thoughts and anxieties, we disclose our prayers in
   secret and in closest intercourse to the Lord. We pray with closed
   doors when with closed lips and complete silence we pray to the
   searcher not of words but of hearts. We pray in secret when from the
   heart and fervent mind we disclose our petitions to God alone, so that
   no hostile powers are even able to discover the character of our
   petition. Wherefore we should pray in complete silence, not only to
   avoid distracting the brethren standing near by our whispers or louder
   utterances, and disturbing the thoughts of those who are praying, but
   also that the purport of our petition may be concealed from our enemies
   who are especially on the watch against us while we are praying. For so
   we shall fulfil this injunction: "Keep the doors of thy mouth from her
   who sleepeth in thy bosom." [1658]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1658] Micah vii. 5.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXXVI.

   Of the value of short and silent prayer.

   Wherefore we ought to pray often but briefly, lest if we are long about
   it our crafty foe may succeed in implanting something in our heart. For
   that is the true sacrifice, as "the sacrifice of God is a broken
   spirit." This is the salutary offering, these are pure drink offerings,
   that is the "sacrifice of righteousness," the "sacrifice of praise,"
   these are true and fat victims, "holocausts full of marrow," which are
   offered by contrite and humble hearts, and which those who practise
   this control and fervour of spirit, of which we have spoken, with
   effectual power can sing: "Let my prayer be set forth in Thy sight as
   the incense: let the lifting up of my hands be an evening sacrifice."
   [1659] But the approach of the right hour and of night warns us that we
   ought with fitting devotion to do this very thing, of which, as our
   slender ability allowed, we seem to have propounded a great deal, and
   to have prolonged our conference considerably, though we believe that
   we have discoursed very little when the magnificence and difficulty of
   the subject are taken into account.

   With these words of the holy Isaac we were dazzled rather than
   satisfied, and after evening service had been held, rested our limbs
   for a short time, and intending at the first dawn again to return under
   promise of a fuller discussion departed, rejoicing over the acquisition
   of these precepts as well as over the assurance of his promises. Since
   we felt that though the excellence of prayer had been shown to us,
   still we had not yet understood from his discourse its nature, and the
   power by which continuance in it might be gained and kept.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1659] Ps. l. (li.) 19, 21; xlix. (l.) 23; lxv. (lxvi.) 15; cxl.
   (cxli.) 2.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  X. The Second Conference of Abbot Isaac.

    On Prayer.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   Introduction.

   Among the sublime customs of the anchorites which by God's help have
   been set forth although in plain and unadorned style, the course of our
   narration compels us to insert and find a place for something, which
   may seem so to speak to cause a blemish on a fair body: although I have
   no doubt that by it no small instruction on the image of Almighty God
   of which we read in Genesis will be conferred on some of the simpler
   sort, especially when the grounds are considered of a doctrine so
   important that men cannot be ignorant of it without terrible blasphemy
   and serious harm to the Catholic faith.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   Of the custom which is kept up in the Province of Egypt for signifying
   the time of Easter.

   In the country of Egypt this custom is by ancient tradition observed
   that--when Epiphany is past, which the priests of that province regard
   as the time, both of our Lord's baptism and also of His birth in the
   flesh, and so celebrate the commemoration of either mystery not
   separately as in the Western provinces but on the single festival of
   this day, [1660] --letters are sent from the Bishop of Alexandria
   through all the Churches of Egypt, by which the beginning of Lent, and
   the day of Easter are pointed out not only in all the cities but also
   in all the monasteries. [1661] In accordance then with this custom, a
   very few days after the previous conference had been held with Abbot
   Isaac, there arrived the festal letters of Theophilus [1662] the Bishop
   of the aforesaid city, in which together with the announcement of
   Easter he considered as well the foolish heresy of the
   Anthropomorphites [1663] at great length, and abundantly refuted it.
   And this was received by almost all the body of monks residing in the
   whole province of Egypt with such bitterness owing to their simplicity
   and error, that the greater part of the Elders decreed that on the
   contrary the aforesaid Bishop ought to be abhorred by the whole body of
   the brethren as tainted with heresy of the worst kind, because he
   seemed to impugn the teaching of holy Scripture by the denial that
   Almighty God was formed in the fashion of a human figure, though
   Scripture teaches with perfect clearness that Adam was created in His
   image. Lastly this letter was rejected also by those who were living in
   the desert of Scete and who excelled all who were in the monasteries of
   Egypt, in perfection and in knowledge, so that except Abbot Paphnutius
   the presbyter of our congregation, not one of the other presbyters, who
   presided over the other three churches in the same desert, would suffer
   it to be even read or repeated at all in their meetings.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1660] The observance of Epiphany can be traced back in the Christian
   Church to the second century, and, as Cassian tells us here, in the
   East (in which its observance apparently originated) it was in the
   first instance a double festival commemorating both the Nativity and
   the Baptism of our Lord. From the East its observance passed over to
   the West, where however the Nativity was already observed as a separate
   festival, and hence the special reference of Epiphany was somewhat
   altered, and the manifestation to the Magi was coupled with that at the
   Baptism: hence the plural Epiphaniorum dies. Meanwhile, as the West
   adopted the observance of this festival from the East, so the East
   followed the West in observing a separate feast of the Nativity.
   Cassian's words show us that when he wrote the two festivals were both
   observed separately in the West, though apparently not yet (to the best
   of his belief) in the East, but the language of a homily by S.
   Chrysostom (Vol. ii. p. 354 Ed. Montfaucon) delivered in a.d. 386 shows
   that the separation of the two festivals had already begun at Antioch,
   and all the evidence goes to show that "the Western plan was being
   gradually adopted in the period which we may roughly define as the last
   quarter of the 4th and the first quarter of the 5th century."
   Dictionary of Christian Antiquities, Vol. i. p. 361. See further
   Origines du Culte Chretien, par L'Abbe Duchesne, p. 247 sq.

   [1661] The "Festal letters" (heotastikai epistolai, Euseb. VII. xx.,
   xxi.) were delivered by the Bishop of Alexandria as Homilies, and then
   put into the form of an Epistle and sent round to all the churches of
   Egypt; and, according to some late writers, to the Bishops of all the
   principal sees, in accordance with a decision of the Council of Nicaea,
   in order to inform them of the right day on which Easter should be
   celebrated. Cassian here speaks of them as sent immediately after
   Epiphany, and this was certainly the time at which the announcement of
   the date of Easter was made in the West shortly after his day (so the
   Council of Orleans, Canon i., a.d. 541); that of Braga a.d. 572, Canon
   ix., and that of Auxerre a.d. 572, Canon ii.), but there is ample
   evidence in the Festal letters both of S. Athanasius and of S. Cyril
   that at Alexandria the homilies were preached on the previous Easter,
   and it is difficult to resist the inference that Cassian's memory is
   here at fault as to the exact time at which the incident related really
   occurred, and that he is transferring to Egypt the custom with which he
   was familiar in the West, assigning to the festival of Epiphany what
   really must have taken place at Easter.

   [1662] Theophilus succeeded Timothy as Bishop of Alexandria in the
   summer of 385. The festal letters of which Cassian here speaks were
   issued by him in the year 399.

   [1663] The Anthropomorphite heresy, into which the monks of Egypt had
   fallen, "supposed that God possesses eyes, a face, and hands and other
   members of a bodily organization." It arose from taking too literally
   those passages of the Old Testament in which God is spoken of in human
   terms, out of condescension to man's limited powers of grasping the
   Divine nature and appears historically to have been a recoil from the
   allegorism of Origen and others of the Alexandrian school. The Festal
   letter of Theophilus in which he condemned these views, and maintained
   the incorporeal nature of God is no longer extant, but is alluded to
   also by Sozomen, H. E. VIII. xi., where an account is given of the
   Origenistic controversy of which it was the occasion, and out of which
   Theophilus came so badly. On the heresy see also Epiphanius, Haer.
   lxx.; Augustine. Haer. l. and lxxvi.; and Theodoret, H. E. IV. x.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   Of Abbot Sarapion and the heresy of the Anthropomorphites into which he
   fell in the error of simplicity.

   Among those then who were caught by this mistaken notion was one named
   Sarapion, a man of long-standing strictness of life, and one who was
   altogether perfect in actual discipline, whose ignorance with regard to
   the view of the doctrine first mentioned was so far a stumbling block
   to all who held the true faith, as he himself outstripped almost all
   the monks both in the merits of his life and in the length of time (he
   had been there). And when this man could not be brought back to the way
   of the right faith by many exhortations of the holy presbyter
   Paphnutius, because this view seemed to him a novelty, and one that was
   not ever known to or handed down by his predecessors, it chanced that a
   certain deacon, a man of very great learning, named Photinus, arrived
   from the region of Cappadocia with the desire of visiting the brethren
   living in the same desert: whom the blessed Paphnutius received with
   the warmest welcome, and in order to confirm the faith which had been
   stated in the letters of the aforesaid Bishop, placed him in the midst
   and asked him before all the brethren how the Catholic Churches
   throughout the East interpreted the passage in Genesis where it says
   "Let us make man after our image and likeness." [1664] And when he
   explained that the image and likeness of God was taken by all the
   leaders of the churches not according to the base sound of the letters,
   but spiritually, and supported this very fully and by many passages of
   Scripture, and showed that nothing of this sort could happen to that
   infinite and incomprehensible and invisible glory, so that it could be
   comprised in a human form and likeness, since its nature is incorporeal
   and uncompounded and simple, and what can neither be apprehended by the
   eyes nor conceived by the mind, at length the old man was shaken by the
   numerous and very weighty assertions of this most learned man, and was
   drawn to the faith of the Catholic tradition. And when both Abbot
   Paphnutius and all of us were filled with intense delight at his
   adhesion, for this reason; viz., that the Lord had not permitted a man
   of such age and crowned with such virtues, and one who erred only from
   ignorance and rustic simplicity, to wander from the path of the right
   faith up to the very last, and when we arose to give thanks, and were
   all together offering up our prayers to the Lord, the old man was so
   bewildered in mind during his prayer because he felt that the
   Anthropomorphic image of the Godhead which he used to set before
   himself in prayer, was banished from his heart, that on a sudden he
   burst into a flood of bitter tears and continual sobs, and cast himself
   down on the ground and exclaimed with strong groanings: "Alas! wretched
   man that I am! they have taken away my God from me, and I have now none
   to lay hold of; and whom to worship and address I know not." By which
   scene we were terribly disturbed, and moreover with the effect of the
   former Conference still remaining in our hearts, we returned to Abbot
   Isaac, whom when we saw close at hand, we addressed with these words.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1664] Gen. i. 26.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   Of our return to Abbot Isaac and question concerning the error into
   which the aforesaid old man had fallen.

   Although even besides the fresh matter which has lately arisen, our
   delight in the former conference which was held on the character of
   prayer would summon us to postpone everything else and return to your
   holiness, yet this grievous error of Abbot Sarapion, conceived, as we
   fancy, by the craft of most vile demons, adds somewhat to this desire
   of ours. For it is no small despair by which we are cast down when we
   consider that through the fault of this ignorance he has not only
   utterly lost all those labours which he has performed in so
   praiseworthy a manner for fifty years in this desert, but has also
   incurred the risk of eternal death. And so we want first to know why
   and wherefore so grievous an error has crept into him. And next we
   should like to be taught how we can arrive at that condition in prayer,
   of which you discoursed some time back not only fully but splendidly.
   For that admirable Conference has had this effect upon us, that it has
   only dazzled our minds and has not shown us how to perform or secure
   it.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   The answer on the heresy described above.

   Isaac: We need not be surprised that a really simple man who had never
   received any instruction on the substance and nature of the Godhead
   could still be entangled and deceived by an error of simplicity and the
   habit of a longstanding mistake, and (to speak more truly) continue in
   the original error which is brought about, not as you suppose by a new
   illusion of the demons, but by the ignorance of the ancient heathen
   world, while in accordance with the custom of that erroneous notion, by
   which they used to worship devils formed in the figure of men, they
   even now think that the incomprehensible and ineffable glory of the
   true Deity should be worshipped under the limitations of some figure,
   as they believe that they can grasp and hold nothing if they have not
   some image set before them, which they can continually address while
   they are at their devotions, and which they can carry about in their
   mind and have always fixed before their eyes. And against this mistake
   of theirs this text may be used: "And they changed the glory of the
   incorruptible God into the likeness of the image of corruptible man."
   [1665] Jeremiah also says: "My people have changed their glory for an
   idol. [1666] Which error although by this its origin, of which we have
   spoken, it is engrained in the notions of some, yet none the less is it
   contracted in the hearts also of those who have never been stained with
   the superstition of the heathen world, under the colour of this passage
   where it is said "Let us make man after our image and our likeness,"
   [1667] ignorance and simplicity being its authors, so that actually
   there has arisen owing to this hateful interpretation a heresy called
   that of the Anthropomorphites, which maintains with obstinate
   perverseness that the infinite and simple substance of the Godhead is
   fashioned in our lineaments and human configuration. Which however any
   one who has been taught the Catholic doctrine will abhor as heathenish
   blasphemy, and so will arrive at that perfectly pure condition in
   prayer which will not only not connect with its prayers any figure of
   the Godhead or bodily lineaments (which it is a sin even to speak of),
   but will not even allow in itself even the memory of a name, or the
   appearance of an action, or an outline of any character.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1665] Rom. i. 23.

   [1666] Jer. ii. 11.

   [1667] Gen. i. 26.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   Of the reasons why Jesus Christ appears to each one of us either in His
   humility or in His glorified condition.

   For according to the measure of its purity, as I said in the former
   Conference, each mind is both raised and moulded in its prayers if it
   forsakes the consideration of earthly and material things so far as the
   condition of its purity may carry it forward, and enable it with the
   inner eyes of the soul to see Jesus either still in His humility and in
   the flesh, or glorified and coming in the glory of His Majesty: for
   those cannot see Jesus coming in His Kingdom who are still kept back in
   a sort of state of Jewish weakness, and cannot say with the Apostle:
   "And if we have known Christ after the flesh, yet now we know Him so no
   more;" [1668] but only those can look with purest eyes on His Godhead,
   who rise with Him from low and earthly works and thoughts and go apart
   in the lofty mountain of solitude which is free from the disturbance of
   all earthly thoughts and troubles, and secure from the interference of
   all sins, and being exalted by pure faith and the heights of virtue
   reveals the glory of His Face and the image of His splendour to those
   who are able to look on Him with pure eyes of the soul. But Jesus is
   seen as well by those who live in towns and villages and hamlets, i.e.,
   who are occupied in practical affairs and works, but not with the same
   brightness with which He appeared to those who can go up with Him into
   the aforesaid mount of virtues, i.e., Peter, James, and John. For so in
   solitude He appeared to Moses and spoke with Elias. And as our Lord
   wished to establish this and to leave us examples of perfect purity,
   although He Himself, the very fount of inviolable sanctity, had no need
   of external help and the assistance of solitude in order to secure it
   (for the fulness of purity could not be soiled by any stain from
   crowds, nor could He be contaminated by intercourse with men, who
   cleanses and sanctifies all things that are polluted) yet still He
   retired into the mountain alone to pray, thus teaching us by the
   example of His retirement that if we too wish to approach God with a
   pure and spotless affection of heart, we should also retire from all
   the disturbance and confusion of crowds, so that while still living in
   the body we may manage in some degree to adapt ourselves to some
   likeness of that bliss which is promised hereafter to the saints, and
   that "God may be" to us "all in all." [1669]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1668] 2 Cor. v. 16.

   [1669] 1 Cor. xv. 28.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   What constitutes our end and perfect bliss.

   For then will be perfectly fulfilled in our case that prayer of our
   Saviour in which He prayed for His disciples to the Father saying "that
   the love wherewith Thou lovedst Me may be in them and they in us;" and
   again: "that they all may be one as Thou, Father, in Me and I in Thee,
   that they also may be one in us," [1670] when that perfect love of God,
   wherewith "He first loved us" [1671] has passed into the feelings of
   our heart as well, by the fulfilment of this prayer of the Lord which
   we believe cannot possibly be ineffectual. And this will come to pass
   when God shall be all our love, and every desire and wish and effort,
   every thought of ours, and all our life and words and breath, and that
   unity which already exists between the Father and the Son, and the Son
   and the Father, has been shed abroad in our hearts and minds, so that
   as He loves us with a pure and unfeigned and indissoluble love, so we
   also may be joined to Him by a lasting and inseparable affection, since
   we are so united to Him that whatever we breathe or think, or speak is
   God, since, as I say, we attain to that end of which we spoke before,
   which the same Lord in His prayer hopes may be fulfilled in us: "that
   they all may be one as we are one, I in them and Thou in Me, that they
   also may be made perfect in one;" and again: "Father, those whom Thou
   hast given Me, I will that where I am, they may also be with Me."
   [1672] This then ought to be the destination of the solitary, this
   should be all his aim that it may be vouchsafed to him to possess even
   in the body an image of future bliss, and that he may begin in this
   world to have a foretaste of a sort of earnest of that celestial life
   and glory. This, I say, is the end of all perfection, that the mind
   purged from all carnal desires may daily be lifted towards spiritual
   things, until the whole life and all the thoughts of the heart become
   one continuous prayer.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1670] S. John xvii. 26, 21.

   [1671] 1 John iv. 16.

   [1672] S. John xvii. 22-24.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   A question on the training in perfection by which we can arrive at
   perpetual recollection of God.

   Germanus: The extent of our bewilderment at our wondering awe at the
   former Conference, because of which we came back again, increases still
   more. For in proportion as by the incitements of this teaching we are
   fired with the desire of perfect bliss, so do we fall back into greater
   despair, as we know not how to seek or obtain training for such lofty
   heights. Wherefore we entreat that you will patiently allow us (for it
   must perhaps be set forth and unfolded with a good deal of talk) to
   explain what while sitting in the cell we had begun to revolve in a
   lengthy meditation, although we know that your holiness is not at all
   troubled by the infirmities of the weak, which even for this reason
   should be openly set forth, that what is out of place in them may
   receive correction. Our notion then is that the perfection of any art
   or system of training must begin with some simple rudiments, and grow
   accustomed first to somewhat easy and tender beginnings, so that being
   nourished and trained little by little by a sort of reasonable milk, it
   may grow up and so by degrees and step by step mount up from the lowest
   depths to the heights: and when by these means it has entered on the
   plainer principles and so to speak passed the gates of the entrance of
   the profession, it will consequently arrive without difficulty at the
   inmost shrine and lofty heights of perfection. For how could any boy
   manage to pronounce the simplest union of syllables unless he had first
   carefully learnt the letters of the alphabet? Or how can any one learn
   to read quickly, who is still unfit to connect together short and
   simple sentences? But by what means will one who is ill instructed in
   the science of grammar attain eloquence in rhetoric or the knowledge of
   philosophy? Wherefore for this highest learning also, by which we are
   taught even to cleave to God, I have no doubt that there are some
   foundations of the system, which must first be firmly laid and
   afterwards the towering heights of perfection may be placed and raised
   upon them. And we have a slight idea that these are its first
   principles; viz., that we should first learn by what meditations God
   may be grasped and contemplated, and next that we should manage to keep
   a very firm hold of this topic whatever it is which we do not doubt is
   the height of all perfection. And therefore we want you to show us some
   material for this recollection, by which we may conceive and ever keep
   the idea of God in the mind, so that by always keeping it before our
   eyes, when we find that we have dropped away from Him, we may at once
   be able to recover ourselves and return thither and may succeed in
   laying hold of it again without any delay from wandering around the
   subject and searching for it. For it happens that when we have wandered
   away from our spiritual speculations and have come back to ourselves as
   if waking from a deadly sleep, and, being thoroughly roused, look for
   the subject matter, by which we may be able to revive that spiritual
   recollection which has been destroyed, we are hindered by the delay of
   the actual search before we find it, and are once more drawn aside from
   our endeavour, and before the spiritual insight is brought about, the
   purpose of heart which had been conceived, has disappeared. And this
   trouble is certain to happen to us for this reason because we do not
   keep something special firmly set before our eyes like some principle
   to which the wandering thoughts may be recalled after many digressions
   and varied excursions; and, if I may use the expression, after long
   storms enter a quiet haven. And so it comes to pass that as the mind is
   constantly hindered by this want of knowledge and difficulty, and is
   always tossed about vaguely, and as if intoxicated, among various
   matters, and cannot even retain firm hold for any length of time of
   anything spiritual which has occurred to it by chance rather than of
   set purpose: while, as it is always receiving one thing after another,
   it does not notice either their beginning and origin or even their end.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   The answer on the efficacy of understanding, which is gained by
   experience.

   Isaac: Your minute and subtle inquiry affords an indication of purity
   being very nearly reached. For no one would be able even to make
   inquiries on these matters, I will not say to look within and
   discriminate,--except one who had been urged to sound the depths of
   such questions by careful and effectual diligence of mind, and watchful
   anxiety, and one whom the constant aim after a well controlled life had
   taught by practical experience to attempt the entrance to this purity
   and to knock at its doors. And therefore as I see you, I will not say,
   standing before the doors of that true prayer of which we have been
   speaking, but touching its inner chambers and inward parts as it were
   with the hands of experience, and already laying hold of some parts of
   it, I do not think that I shall find any difficulty in introducing you
   now within what I may call its hall, for you to roam about its
   recesses, as the Lord may direct; nor do I think that you will be
   hindered from investigating what is to be shown you by any obstacles or
   difficulties. For he is next door to understanding who carefully
   recognizes what he ought to ask about, nor is he far from knowledge,
   who begins to understand how ignorant he is. And therefore I am not
   afraid of the charge of betraying secrets, and of levity, if I divulge
   what when speaking in my former discourse on the perfection of prayer I
   had kept back from discussing, as I think that its force was to be
   explained to us who are occupied with this subject and interest even
   without the aid of my words, by the grace of God.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   Of the method of continual prayer.

   Wherefore in accordance with that system, which you admirably compared
   to teaching children (who can only take in the first lessons on the
   alphabet and recognize the shapes of the letters, and trace out their
   characters with a steady hand if they have, by means of some copies and
   shapes carefully impressed on wax, got accustomed to express their
   figures, by constantly looking at them and imitating them daily), we
   must give you also the form of this spiritual contemplation, on which
   you may always fix your gaze with the utmost steadiness, and both learn
   to consider it to your profit in unbroken continuance, and also manage
   by the practice of it and by meditation to climb to a still loftier
   insight. This formula then shall be proposed to you of this system,
   which you want, and of prayer, which every monk in his progress towards
   continual recollection of God, is accustomed to ponder, ceaselessly
   revolving it in his heart, having got rid of all kinds of other
   thoughts; for he cannot possibly keep his hold over it unless he has
   freed himself from all bodily cares and anxieties. And as this was
   delivered to us by a few of those who were left of the oldest fathers,
   so it is only divulged by us to a very few and to those who are really
   keen. And so for keeping up continual recollection of God this pious
   formula is to be ever set before you. "O God, make speed to save me: O
   Lord, make haste to help me," [1673] for this verse has not
   unreasonably been picked out from the whole of Scripture for this
   purpose. For it embraces all the feelings which can be implanted in
   human nature, and can be fitly and satisfactorily adapted to every
   condition, and all assaults. Since it contains an invocation of God
   against every danger, it contains humble and pious confession, it
   contains the watchfulness of anxiety and continual fear, it contains
   the thought of one's own weakness, confidence in the answer, and the
   assurance of a present and ever ready help. For one who is constantly
   calling on his protector, is certain that He is always at hand. It
   contains the glow of love and charity, it contains a view of the plots,
   and a dread of the enemies, from which one, who sees himself day and
   night hemmed in by them, confesses that he cannot be set free without
   the aid of his defender. This verse is an impregnable wall for all who
   are labouring under the attacks of demons, as well as impenetrable coat
   of mail and a strong shield. It does not suffer those who are in a
   state of moroseness and anxiety of mind, or depressed by sadness or all
   kinds of thoughts to despair of saving remedies, as it shows that He,
   who is invoked, is ever looking on at our struggles and is not far from
   His suppliants. It warns us whose lot is spiritual success and delight
   of heart that we ought not to be at all elated or puffed up by our
   happy condition, which it assures us cannot last without God as our
   protector, while it implores Him not only always but even speedily to
   help us. This verse, I say, will be found helpful and useful to every
   one of us in whatever condition we may be. For one who always and in
   all matters wants to be helped, shows that he needs the assistance of
   God not only in sorrowful or hard matters but also equally in
   prosperous and happy ones, that he may be delivered from the one and
   also made to continue in the other, as he knows that in both of them
   human weakness is unable to endure without His assistance. I am
   affected by the passion of gluttony. I ask for food of which the desert
   knows nothing, and in the squalid desert there are wafted to me odours
   of royal dainties and I find that even against my will I am drawn to
   long for them. I must at once say: "O God, make speed to save me: O
   Lord, make haste to help me." I am incited to anticipate the hour fixed
   for supper, or I am trying with great sorrow of heart to keep to the
   limits of the right and regular meagre fare. I must cry out with
   groans: "O God, make speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me."
   Weakness of the stomach hinders me when wanting severer fasts, on
   account of the assaults of the flesh, or dryness of the belly and
   constipation frightens me. In order that effect may be given to my
   wishes, or else that the fire of carnal lust may be quenched without
   the remedy of a stricter fast, I must pray: "O God, make speed to save
   me: O Lord, make haste to help me." When I come to supper, at the
   bidding of the proper hour I loathe taking food and am prevented from
   eating anything to satisfy the requirements of nature: I must cry with
   a sigh: "O God, make speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me."
   When I want for the sake of steadfastness of heart to apply myself to
   reading a headache interferes and stops me, and at the third hour sleep
   glues my head to the sacred page, and I am forced either to overstep or
   to anticipate the time assigned to rest; and finally an overpowering
   desire to sleep forces me to cut short the canonical rule for service
   in the Psalms: in the same way I must cry out: "O God, make speed to
   save me: O Lord, make haste to help me." Sleep is withdrawn from my
   eyes, and for many nights I find myself wearied out with sleeplessness
   caused by the devil, and all repose and rest by night is kept away from
   my eyelids; I must sigh and pray: "O God, make speed to save me: O
   Lord, make haste to help me." While I am still in the midst of a
   struggle with sin suddenly an irritation of the flesh affects me and
   tries by a pleasant sensation to draw me to consent while in my sleep.
   In order that a raging fire from without may not burn up the fragrant
   blossoms of chastity, I must cry out: "O God, make speed to save me: O
   Lord, make haste to help me." I feel that the incentive to lust is
   removed, and that the heat of passion has died away in my members: In
   order that this good condition acquired, or rather that this grace of
   God may continue still longer or forever with me, I must earnestly say:
   "O God, make speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me." I am
   disturbed by the pangs of anger, covetousness, gloominess, and driven
   to disturb the peaceful state in which I was, and which was dear to me:
   In order that I may not be carried away by raging passion into the
   bitterness of gall, I must cry out with deep groans: "O God, make speed
   to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me." I am tried by being puffed
   up by accidie, vainglory, and pride, and my mind with subtle thoughts
   flatters itself somewhat on account of the coldness and carelessness of
   others: In order that this dangerous suggestion of the enemy may not
   get the mastery over me, I must pray with all contrition of heart: "O
   God, make speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me." I have
   gained the grace of humility and simplicity, and by continually
   mortifying my spirit have got rid of the swellings of pride: In order
   that the "foot of pride" may not again "come against me," and "the hand
   of the sinner disturb me," [1674] and that I may not be more seriously
   damaged by elation at my success, I must cry with all my might, "O God,
   make speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me." I am on fire
   with innumerable and various wanderings of soul and shiftiness of
   heart, and cannot collect my scattered thoughts, nor can I even pour
   forth my prayer without interruption and images of vain figures, and
   the recollection of conversations and actions, and I feel myself tied
   down by such dryness and barrenness that I feel I cannot give birth to
   any offspring in the shape of spiritual ideas: In order that it may be
   vouchsafed to me to be set free from this wretched state of mind, from
   which I cannot extricate myself by any number of sighs and groans, I
   must full surely cry out: "O God, make speed to save me: O Lord, make
   haste to help me." Again, I feel that by the visitation of the Holy
   Spirit I have gained purpose of soul, steadfastness of thought,
   keenness of heart, together with an ineffable joy and transport of
   mind, and in the exuberance of spiritual feelings I have perceived by a
   sudden illumination from the Lord an abounding revelation of most holy
   ideas which were formerly altogether hidden from me: In order that it
   may be vouchsafed to me to linger for a longer time in them I must
   often and anxiously exclaim: "O God, make speed to save me: O Lord,
   make haste to help me." Encompassed by nightly horrors of devils I am
   agitated, and am disturbed by the appearances of unclean spirits, my
   very hope of life and salvation is withdrawn by the horror of fear.
   Flying to the safe refuge of this verse, I will cry out with all my
   might: "O God, make speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me."
   Again, when I have been restored by the Lord's consolation, and,
   cheered by His coming, feel myself encompassed as if by countless
   thousands of angels, so that all of a sudden I can venture to seek the
   conflict and provoke a battle with those whom a while ago I dreaded
   worse than death, and whose touch or even approach I felt with a
   shudder both of mind and body: In order that the vigour of this courage
   may, by God's grace, continue in me still longer, I must cry out with
   all my powers: "O God, make speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to
   help me." We must then ceaselessly and continuously pour forth the
   prayer of this verse, in adversity that we may be delivered, in
   prosperity that we may be preserved and not puffed up. Let the thought
   of this verse, I tell you, be conned over in your breast without
   ceasing. Whatever work you are doing, or office you are holding, or
   journey you are going, do not cease to chant this. When you are going
   to bed, or eating, and in the last necessities of nature, think on
   this. This thought in your heart maybe to you a saving formula, and not
   only keep you unharmed by all attacks of devils, but also purify you
   from all faults and earthly stains, and lead you to that invisible and
   celestial contemplation, and carry you on to that ineffable glow of
   prayer, of which so few have any experience. Let sleep come upon you
   still considering this verse, till having been moulded by the constant
   use of it, you grow accustomed to repeat it even in your sleep. When
   you wake let it be the first thing to come into your mind, let it
   anticipate all your waking thoughts, let it when you rise from your bed
   send you down on your knees, and thence send you forth to all your work
   and business, and let it follow you about all day long. This you should
   think about, according to the Lawgiver's charge, "at home and walking
   forth on a journey," [1675] sleeping and waking. This you should write
   on the threshold and door of your mouth, this you should place on the
   walls of your house and in the recesses of your heart so that when you
   fall on your knees in prayer this may be your chant as you kneel, and
   when you rise up from it to go forth to all the necessary business of
   life it may be your constant prayer as you stand.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1673] Ps. lxix. (lxx.) 2. It is not impropable that this chapter
   suggested to S. Benedict the use of these words as the opening versicle
   of the hour services, a position which it has ever since occupied in
   the West. See the rule of S. Benedict, cc. ix., xvii., and xviii.

   [1674] Ps. xxxv. (xxxvi.) 12.

   [1675] Deut. vi. 7.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   Of the perfection of prayer to which we can rise by the system
   described.

   This, this is the formula which the mind should unceasingly cling to
   until, strengthened by the constant use of it and by continual
   meditation, it casts off and rejects the rich and full material of all
   manner of thoughts and restricts itself to the poverty of this one
   verse, and so arrives with ready ease at that beatitude of the gospel,
   which holds the first place among the other beatitudes: for He says
   "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."
   [1676] And so one who becomes grandly poor by a poverty of this sort
   will fulfil this saying of the prophet: "The poor and needy shall
   praise the name of the Lord." [1677] And indeed what greater or holier
   poverty can there be than that of one who knowing that he has no
   defence and no strength of his own, asks for daily help from another's
   bounty, and as he is aware that every single moment his life and
   substance depend on Divine assistance, professes himself not without
   reason the Lord's bedesman, and cries to Him daily in prayer: "But I am
   poor and needy: the Lord helpeth me." [1678] And so by the illumination
   of God Himself he mounts to that manifold knowledge of Him and begins
   henceforward to be nourished on sublimer and still more sacred
   mysteries, in accordance with these words of the prophet: "The high
   hills are a refuge for the stags, the rocks for the hedgehogs," [1679]
   which is very fairly applied in the sense we have given, because
   whosoever continues in simplicity and innocence is not injurious or
   offensive to any one, but being content with his own simple condition
   endeavours simply to defend himself from being spoiled by his foes, and
   becomes a sort of spiritual hedgehog and is protected by the continual
   shield of that rock of the gospel, i.e., being sheltered by the
   recollection of the Lord's passion and by ceaseless meditation on the
   verse given above he escapes the snares of his opposing enemies. And of
   these spiritual hedgehogs we read in Proverbs as follows: "And the
   hedgehogs are a feeble folk, who have made their homes in the rocks."
   [1680] And indeed what is feebler than a Christian, what is weaker than
   a monk, who is not only not permitted any vengeance for wrongs done to
   him but is actually not allowed to suffer even a slight and silent
   feeling of irritation to spring up within? But whoever advances from
   this condition and not only secures the simplicity of innocence, but is
   also shielded by the virtue of discretion, becomes an exterminator of
   deadly serpents, and has Satan crushed beneath his feet, and by his
   quickness of mind answers to the figure of the reasonable stag, this
   man will feed on the mountains of the prophets and Apostles, i.e., on
   their highest and loftiest mysteries. And thriving on this pasture
   continually, he will take in to himself all the thoughts of the Psalms
   and will begin to sing them in such a way that he will utter them with
   the deepest emotion of heart not as if they were the compositions of
   the Psalmist, but rather as if they were his own utterances and his
   very own prayer; and will certainly take them as aimed at himself, and
   will recognize that their words were not only fulfilled formerly by or
   in the person of the prophet, but that they are fulfilled and carried
   out daily in his own case. For then the Holy Scriptures lie open to us
   with greater clearness and as it were their very veins and marrow are
   exposed, when our experience not only perceives but actually
   anticipates their meaning, and the sense of the words is revealed to us
   not by an exposition of them but by practical proof. For if we have
   experience of the very state of mind in which each Psalm was sung and
   written, we become like their authors and anticipate the meaning rather
   than follow it, i.e., gathering the force of the words before we really
   know them, we remember what has happened to us, and what is happening
   in daily assaults when the thoughts of them come over us, and while we
   sing them we call to mind all that our carelessness has brought upon
   us, or our earnestness has secured, or Divine Providence has granted or
   the promptings of the foe have deprived us of, or slippery and subtle
   forgetfulness has carried off, or human weakness has brought about, or
   thoughtless ignorance has cheated us of. For all these feelings we find
   expressed in the Psalms so that by seeing whatever happens as in a very
   clear mirror we understand it better, and so instructed by our feelings
   as our teachers we lay hold of it as something not merely heard but
   actually seen, and, as if it were not committed to memory, but
   implanted in the very nature of things, we are affected from the very
   bottom of the heart, so that we get at its meaning not by reading the
   text but by experience anticipating it. And so our mind will reach that
   incorruptible prayer to which in our former treatise, as the Lord
   vouchsafed to grant, the scheme of our Conference mounted, and this is
   not merely not engaged in gazing on any image, but is actually
   distinguished by the use of no words or utterances; but with the
   purpose of the mind all on fire, is produced through ecstasy of heart
   by some unaccountable keenness of spirit, and the mind being thus
   affected without the aid of the senses or any visible material pours it
   forth to God with groanings and sighs that cannot be uttered.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1676] S. Matt. v. 3.

   [1677] Ps. lxxiii. (lxxiv.) 21.

   [1678] Ps. xxxix. (xl.) 17 (LXX.).

   [1679] Ps. ciii. (civ.) 18.

   [1680] Prov. xxx. 26 (LXX.).
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   A question as to how spiritual thoughts can be retained without losing
   them.

   Germanus: We think that you have described to us not only the system of
   this spiritual discipline for which we asked, but perfection itself;
   and this with great clearness and openness. For what can be more
   perfect and sublime than for the recollection of God to be embraced in
   so brief a meditation, and for it, dwelling on a single verse, to
   escape from all the limitations of things visible, and to comprise in
   one short word the thoughts of all our prayers. And therefore we beg
   you to explain to us one thing which still remains; viz., how we can
   keep firm hold of this verse which you have given us as a formula, in
   such a way that, as we have been by God's grace set free from the
   trifles of worldly thoughts, so we may also keep a steady grasp on all
   spiritual ones.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   On the lightness of thoughts.

   For when the mind has taken in the meaning of a passage in any Psalm,
   this insensibly slips away from it, and ignorantly and thoughtlessly it
   passes on to a text of some other Scripture. And when it has begun to
   consider this with itself, while it is still not thoroughly explored,
   the recollection of some other passage springs up, and shuts out the
   consideration of the former subject. From this too it is transferred to
   some other, by the entrance of some fresh consideration, and the soul
   always turns about from Psalm to Psalm and jumps from a passage in the
   Gospels to read one in the Epistles, and from this passes on to the
   prophetic writings, and thence is carried to some spiritual history,
   and so it wanders about vaguely and uncertainly through the whole body
   of the Scriptures, unable, as it may choose, either to reject or keep
   hold of anything, or to finish anything by fully considering and
   examining it, and so becomes only a toucher or taster of spiritual
   meanings, not an author and possessor of them. And so the mind, as it
   is always light and wandering, is distracted even in time of service by
   all sorts of things, as if it were intoxicated, and does not perform
   any office properly. For instance, while it is praying, it is recalling
   some Psalm or passage of Scripture. While it is chanting, it is
   thinking about something else besides what the text of the Psalm itself
   contains. When it repeats a passage of Scripture, it is thinking about
   something that has to be done, or remembering something that has been
   done. And in this way it takes in and rejects nothing in a disciplined
   and proper way, and seems to be driven about by random incursions,
   without the power either of retaining what it likes or lingering over
   it. It is then well for us before everything else to know how we can
   properly perform these spiritual offices, and keep firm hold of this
   particular verse which you have given us as a formula, so that the rise
   and fall of our feelings may not be in a state of fluctuation from
   their own lightness, but may lie under our own control.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   The answer how we can gain stability of heart or of thoughts.

   Isaac: Although, in our former discussion on the character of prayer,
   enough was, as I think, said on this subject, yet as you want it
   repeated to you again, I will give you a brief instruction on
   steadfastness of heart. There are three things which make a shifting
   heart steadfast, watchings, meditation, and prayer, diligence in which
   and constant attention will produce steadfast firmness of mind. But
   this cannot be secured in any other way unless all cares and anxieties
   of this present life have been first got rid of by indefatigable
   persistence in work dedicated not to covetousness but to the sacred
   uses of the monastery, that we may thus be able to fulfil the Apostle's
   command: "Pray without ceasing." [1681] For he prays too little, who is
   accustomed only to pray at the times when he bends his knees. But he
   never prays, who even while on his bended knees is distracted by all
   kinds of wanderings of heart. And therefore what we would be found when
   at our prayers, that we ought to be before the time of prayer. For at
   the time of its prayers the mind cannot help being affected by its
   previous condition, and while it is praying, will be either transported
   to things heavenly, or dragged down to earthly things by those thoughts
   in which it had been lingering before prayer.

   Thus far did Abbot Isaac carry on his Second Conference on the
   character of Prayer to us astonished hearers; whose instruction on the
   consideration of that verse quoted above (which he gave as a sort of
   outline for beginners to hold) we greatly admired, and wished to follow
   very closely, as we fancied that it would be a short and easy method;
   but we have found it even harder to observe than that system of ours by
   which we used formerly to wander here and there in varied meditations
   through the whole body of the Scriptures without being tied by any
   chains of perseverance. It is then certain that no one is kept away
   from perfection of heart by not being able to read, nor is rustic
   simplicity any hindrance to the possession of purity of heart and mind,
   which lies close at hand for all, if only they will by constant
   meditation on this verse keep the thoughts of the mind safe and sound
   towards God.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1681] 1 Thess. v. 17.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

                        The Conferences of John Cassian.

Part II.

  Containing Conferences XI-XVII.
     __________________________________________________________________

  Preface.
     __________________________________________________________________

   Although many of the saints who are taught by your example can scarcely
   emulate the greatness of your perfection, with which you shine like
   great luminaries with marvellous brightness in this world, yet still
   you, O holy brothers Honoratus and Eucherius, [1682] are so stirred by
   the great glory of those splendid men from whom we received the first
   principles of monasticism, that one of you, presiding as he does over a
   large monastery of the brethren, is hoping that his congregation, which
   learns a lesson from the daily sight of your saintly life, may be
   instructed in the precepts of those fathers, while the other has been
   anxious to make his way to Egypt to be edified by the sight of these in
   the flesh, that he might leave this province that is frozen as it were
   with the cold of Gaul, and like some pure turtle dove fly to those
   lands on which the sun of righteousness looks and to which it
   approaches nearest, and which abound with the ripe fruits of virtues.
   As a matter of course the greatness of my love wrings this from me;
   viz., that considering the desire of the one and the labour of the
   other, I should not decline the danger and peril of writing, if only to
   the one there may be added authority among his children, and from the
   other may be removed the necessity for so risky a journey. Further
   since neither the Institutes of the Coenobia which we wrote to the best
   of our ability in twelve books for Bishop Castor of blessed memory, nor
   the ten Conferences of the fathers living in the desert of Scete, which
   we composed somehow or other at the bidding of Saints Helladius and
   Leontius the Bishops, [1683] were able to satisfy your faith and zeal,
   now in order that the reason for our journey may be also known, I have
   thought that seven Conferences of the three fathers whom we first saw
   living in another desert, might be written in the same style and
   dedicated to you, in which whatever has been in our previous works
   perhaps obscurely explained or even omitted on the subject of
   perfection, may be supplied. But if even this is not enough to satisfy
   the holy thirst of your desires, seven other Conferences, which are to
   be sent to the holy brethren living in the islands of the Stoechades,
   [1684] will, I fancy, satisfy your wants and your ardour.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1682] On Honoratus and Eucherius, see the Introduction, p. 189.

   [1683] Cf. the Preface to Conference I.

   [1684] A group of islands off the coast of France opposite Marseilles;
   mentioned by Pliny, H. N. III. V., now known as Les Isles d'Hieres.
     __________________________________________________________________

The Second Part of the Conferences

of John Cassian.
     __________________________________________________________________

  XI. The First Conference of Abbot Chaeremon.

    On Perfection.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter I.

   Description of the town of Thennesus.

   When we were living in a monastery in Syria after our first infancy in
   the faith, and when after we had grown somewhat we had begun to long
   for some greater grace of perfection, we determined straightway to seek
   Egypt and penetrating even to the remotest desert of the Thebaid,
   [1685] to visit very many of the saints, whose glory and fame had
   spread abroad everywhere, with the wish if not to emulate them at any
   rate to know them. And so we came by a very lengthy voyage to a town of
   Egypt named Thennesus, [1686] whose inhabitants are so surrounded
   either by the sea or by salt lakes that they devote themselves to
   business alone and get their wealth and substance by naval commerce as
   the land fails them, so that indeed when they want to build houses,
   there is no soil sufficient for this, unless it is brought by boat from
   a distance.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1685] It is very doubtful whether Cassian ever carried out the
   intention, of which he here speaks, of visiting the Thebaid. So far as
   we can trace the course of his wanderings, he does not seem to have
   penetrated farther into Egypt than the desert of Scete.

   [1686] Thennesus, a town at the Tanitic mouth of the Nile near Lake
   Menzaleh. For the description of the neighbouring country compare
   Conference VII. c. xxvi.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter II.

   Of Bishop Archebius.

   And when we arrived there, God gratified our wishes, and had brought
   about the arrival of that most blessed and excellent man Bishop
   Archebius, [1687] who had been carried off from the assembly of
   anchorites and given as Bishop to the town of Panephysis, [1688] and
   who kept all his life long to his purpose of solitude with such
   strictness that he relaxed nothing of the character of his former
   humility, nor flattered himself on the honour that had been added to
   him (for he vowed that he had not been summoned to that office as fit
   for it, but complained that he had been expelled from the monastic
   system as unworthy of it because though he had spent thirty-seven years
   in it he had never been able to arrive at the purity so high a
   profession demands); he then when he had received us kindly and most
   graciously in the aforesaid Thennesus whither the business of electing
   a Bishop there had brought him, as soon as he heard of our wish and
   desire to inquire of the holy fathers even in still more remote parts
   of Egypt: "Come," said he, "see in the meanwhile the old men who live
   not far from our monastery, the length of whose service is shown by
   their bent bodies, as their holiness shines forth in their appearance,
   so that even the mere sight of them will give a great lesson to those
   who see them: and from them you can learn not so much by their words as
   by the actual example of their holy life, what I grieve that I have
   lost, and having lost cannot give to you. But I think that my poverty
   will be somewhat lessened by this zeal of mine, if when you are seeking
   that pearl of the Gospel which I have not, I at least provide where you
   can conveniently procure it."
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1687] Archebius has already been mentioned in Conference VII. xxvi;
   and in the Institutes V. xxxvii., xxxviii., two stories are told
   illustrative of his kindness and goodness of disposition; but he is not
   known to us from any other source except Cassian's writings.

   [1688] For the situation of Panephysis, see the note on the Institutes,
   Book IV. c. xxx.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter III.

   Description of the desert where Chaeremon, Nesteros, and Joseph lived.

   And so he took his staff and scrip, as is there the custom for all
   monks starting on a journey, and himself led us as guide of our road to
   his own city, i.e., Panephysis, the lands of which and indeed the
   greater part of the neighbouring region (formerly an extremely rich one
   since from it, as report says, everything was supplied for the royal
   table), had been covered by the sea which was disturbed by a sudden
   earthquake and overflowed its banks, and so (almost all the villages
   being in ruins) covered what were formerly rich lands with salt
   marshes, so that you might think that what is spiritually sung in the
   psalm was a literal prophecy of that region. "He hath turned rivers
   into a wilderness; and the springs of waters into a thirsty land: a
   fruitful land into saltness for the wickedness of them that dwell
   therein." [1689] In these districts then many towns perched in this way
   on the higher hills were deserted by their inhabitants and turned by
   the inundation into islands, and these afforded the desired solitude to
   the holy anchorites, among whom three old men; viz., Chaeremon,
   Nesteros and Joseph, stood out as anchorites of the longest standing.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1689] Ps. cvi. (cvii.) 33 sq.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IV.

   Of Abbot Chaeremon and his excuse about the teaching which we asked
   for.

   And so the blessed Archebius thought it best to take us first to
   Chaeremon, [1690] because he was nearer to his monastery, and because
   he was more advanced than the other two in age: for he had passed the
   hundredth year of his life, vigorous only in spirit, but with his back
   bowed with age and constant prayer, so that, as if he were once more in
   his childhood he crawled with his hands hanging down and resting on the
   ground. Gazing then at one and the same time on this man's wonderful
   face and on his walk (for though all his limbs had already failed and
   were dead yet he had lost none of the severity of his previous
   strictness) when we humbly asked for the word and doctrine, and
   declared that longing for spiritual instruction was the only reason for
   our coming, he sighed deeply and said: What doctrine can I teach you, I
   in whom the feebleness of age has relaxed my former strictness, as it
   has also destroyed my confidence in speaking? For how could I presume
   to teach what I do not do, or instruct another in what I know I now
   practise but feebly and coldly? Wherefore I do not allow any of the
   younger men to live with me now that I am of such an advanced age, lest
   the other's strictness should be relaxed owing to my example. For the
   authority of a teacher will never be strong unless he fixes it in the
   heart of his hearer by the actual performance of his duty.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1690] Chaeremon is perhaps the same person of whom a short account is
   given in the Lausiac History of Palladius, c. xcii.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter V.

   Of our answer to his excuse.

   At this we were overwhelmed with no slight confusion and replied as
   follows: Although both the difficulty of the place and the solitary
   life itself, which even a robust youth could scarcely put up with,
   ought to be sufficient to teach us everything (and indeed without your
   saying anything they do teach and impress us a very great deal) yet
   still we ask you to lay aside your silence for a little and in a more
   worthy manner implant in us those principles by which we may be able to
   embrace, not so much by imitating it as by admiring it, that goodness
   which we see in you. For even if our coldness is known to you, and does
   not deserve to obtain what we are asking for, yet at least the trouble
   of so long a journey ought to be repaid by it, as we made haste to come
   here after our first beginning in the monastery of Bethlehem, owing to
   a longing for your instruction, and a yearning for our own good.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   Abbot Chaeremon's statement that faults can be overcome in three ways.

   Then the blessed Chaeremon: There are, said he, three things which
   enable men to control their faults; viz., either the fear of hell or of
   laws even now imposed; or the hope and desire of the kingdom of heaven;
   or a liking for goodness itself and the love of virtue. For then we
   read that the fear of evil loathes contamination: "The fear of the Lord
   hateth evil." [1691] Hope also shuts out the assaults of all faults:
   for "all who hope in Him shall not fail." [1692] Love also fears no
   destruction from sins, for "love never faileth;" [1693] and again:
   "love covers a multitude of sins." [1694] And therefore the blessed
   Apostle confines the whole sum of salvation in the attainment of those
   three virtues, saying "Now abideth faith, hope, love, these three."
   [1695] For faith is what makes us shun the stains of sin from fear of
   future judgment and punishment; hope is what withdraws our mind from
   present things, and despises all bodily pleasures from its expectation
   of heavenly rewards; love is what inflames us with keenness of heart
   for the love of Christ and the fruit of spiritual goodness, and makes
   us hate with a perfect hatred whatever is opposed to these. And these
   three things although they all seem to aim at one and the same end (for
   they incite us to abstain from things unlawful) yet they differ from
   each other greatly in the degrees of their excellence. For the two
   former belong properly to those men who in their aim at goodness have
   not yet acquired the love of virtue, and the third belongs specially to
   God and to those who have received into themselves the image and
   likeness of God. For He alone does the things that are good, with no
   fear and no thanks or reward to stir Him up, but simply from the love
   of goodness. For, as Solomon says, "The Lord hath made all things for
   Himself." [1696] For under cover of His own goodness He bestows all the
   fulness of good things on the worthy and the unworthy because He cannot
   be wearied by wrongs, nor be moved by passions at the sins of men, as
   He ever remains perfect goodness and unchangeable in His nature.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1691] Prov. viii. 13.

   [1692] Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 23.

   [1693] 1 Cor. xiii. 8.

   [1694] 1 Pet. iv. 8.

   [1695] 1 Cor. xiii. 13.

   [1696] Prov. xvi. 4.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   By what steps we can ascend to the heights of love and what permanence
   there is in it.

   If then any one is aiming at perfection, from that first stage of fear
   which we rightly termed servile (of which it is said: "When ye have
   done all things say: we are unprofitable servants," [1697] ) he should
   by advancing a step mount to the higher path of hope--which is compared
   not to a slave but to a hireling, because it looks for the payment of
   its recompense, and as if it were free from care concerning absolution
   of its sins and fear of punishment, and conscious of its own good
   works, though it seems to look for the promised reward, yet it cannot
   attain to that love of a son who, trusting in his father's kindness and
   liberality, has no doubt that all that the father has is his, to which
   also that prodigal who together with his father's substance had lost
   the very name of son, did not venture to aspire, when he said: "I am no
   more worthy to be called thy son;" for after those husks which the
   swine ate, satisfaction from which was denied to him, i.e., the
   disgusting food of sin, as he "came to himself," and was overcome by a
   salutary fear, he already began to loathe the uncleanness of the swine,
   and to dread the punishment of gnawing hunger, and as if he had already
   been made a servant, desires the condition of a hireling and thinks
   about the remuneration, and says: "How many hired servants of my father
   have abundance of bread, and I perish here with hunger. I will then
   return to my father and will say unto him, Father I have sinned against
   heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son:
   make me as one of thy hired servants.'" [1698] But those words of
   humble penitence his father who ran to meet him received with greater
   affection than that with which they were spoken, and was not content to
   allow him lesser things, but passing through the two stages without
   delay restored him to his former dignity of sonship. We also ought
   forthwith to hasten on that by means of the indissoluble grace of love
   we may mount to that third stage of sonship, which believes that all
   that the father has is its own, and so we may be counted worthy to
   receive the image and likeness of our heavenly Father, and be able to
   say after the likeness of the true son: "All that the Father hath is
   mine." [1699] Which also the blessed Apostle declares of us, saying:
   "All things are yours, whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas, or the world,
   or life, or death, or things present, or things to come; all are
   yours." [1700] And to this likeness the commands of our Saviour also
   summon us: "Be ye," says He, "perfect, even as your Father in heaven is
   perfect." [1701] For in these persons sometimes the love of goodness is
   found to be interrupted, when the vigour of the soul is relaxed by some