Tag: Ascetical Writings

BY ST. JOHN CASSIAN

BY ST. JOHN CASSIAN

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.

SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.

Abbot Moses' introduction on the grace of discretion.

Abbot Moses' introduction on the grace of discretion.

After we had enjoyed our morning sleep and the delightful dawn shone upon us again, we began once more to ask for the talk he had promised. Then the blessed Moses began: I see that you are burning with such eager desire that I don't believe the very short rest period—which I wanted to take from our spiritual discussion and devote to bodily rest—has been any use at all for refreshing your bodies. When I notice your enthusiasm, I feel an even greater responsibility pressing on me. I must give all the more care and devotion in fulfilling my obligation, in proportion to how earnestly you are asking for it, according to the saying: When you sit to eat with a ruler, consider carefully what is set before you, and reach out your hand, knowing that you ought to prepare such things. Therefore, since we are going to speak about the excellent quality of discretion and its virtue—the subject our conversation last night had begun to address at the end of our discussion—we think it best to first establish its excellence by the opinions of the fathers. Once we have shown what our predecessors thought and said about it, we will bring forward some ancient and modern examples of shipwrecks and disasters involving various people who were destroyed and hopelessly ruined because they paid too little attention to it. Then, as well as we can, we must treat its advantages and uses. After discussing all this, we will better understand how we ought to seek and practice it by considering how important and valuable this grace is. For this is no ordinary virtue, nor one that can be gained freely by merely human efforts unless they are aided by divine blessing. We read that this is also counted 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 completing the catalogue of spiritual gifts he adds: But all these works one and the same Spirit, dividing to every man individually as He wills. You see, then, that the gift of discretion is no earthly thing and no small matter, but the greatest prize of divine grace. And unless a monk has pursued it with all diligence and secured a power of discerning with unerring judgment the spirits that rise up in him, he is sure to go astray, as if in the darkness of night and thick blackness. He will not only fall down dangerous pits and cliffs, but also make frequent mistakes in matters that are plain and straightforward.

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 you sit to eat with a ruler consider diligently what is put before you, and put forth your hand, knowing that you ought to prepare such things. 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 works one and the selfsame Spirit, dividing to every man severally as He will. 1 Corinthians 12:8-11 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.

What discretion alone can give to a monk, and a discourse of blessed Antony on this subject.

What discretion alone can give a monk; and a discourse of the blessed Antony on this subject.

I remember when I was still a boy in the region of Thebaid, where the blessed Antony lived, the elders came to him to ask about perfection. The conference lasted from evening until morning, and most of the night was spent on this question. They discussed at great length what virtue or practice could keep a monk always safe from the devil's snares and deceits, and guide him on a sure and right path with steady steps to the heights of perfection. Each person gave his opinion according to his own inclination. Some said it consisted in zealous fasting and keeping vigils, because a soul humbled by these practices gains purity of heart and body and is more easily united to God. Others said it was despising all things, so that the mind, completely freed from possessions, would come more freely to God without any snares to trap it. Others thought withdrawal from the world was necessary—that is, solitude and the privacy of a hermit's life, in which a person could more readily commune with God and cling especially to Him. Others emphasized the duties of charity, that is, acts of kindness, because the Lord in the gospel promised especially to give the kingdom to those who practice these, saying, "Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave Me food, I was thirsty and you gave Me drink," and so on (Matthew 25:35-36). When they had declared in this way that different virtues could provide a more certain approach to God, and most of the night had been spent in this discussion, the blessed Antony finally spoke and said: All these things you have mentioned are indeed necessary and helpful to those who thirst for God and desire to approach Him. But countless experiences and the testimony of many people will not allow us to say that the most important gift consists in these things. For we have often seen men who were very strict in fasting or vigils, who withdrew nobly into solitude, and who aimed to deprive themselves of all their possessions so completely that they would not keep even a day's food or a single penny, and who fulfilled all the duties of kindness with the utmost devotion—yet we have seen them suddenly deceived, so that they could not bring the work they had begun to a proper conclusion, but brought their exalted fervor and praiseworthy way of life to a terrible end. Therefore we will be able to recognize clearly what chiefly leads to God if we trace out more carefully the reason for their downfall and deception. For though the works of the virtues mentioned above were abundant in them, discretion alone was lacking, and this prevented them from continuing to the end. No other reason for their falling away can be found except that, not being sufficiently instructed by their elders, they could not obtain judgment and discretion, which avoids excess on either side and teaches a monk always to walk along the royal road. It does not allow him to be puffed up on the right hand of virtue—that is, through excessive zeal to transgress the bounds of proper moderation in foolish presumption—nor does it allow him to become attracted to slackness and turn aside to the vices on the left hand—that is, under the pretext of controlling the body, to grow slack with the opposite spirit of lukewarmness. For this is discretion, which is called in the gospel the eye and light of the body, according to the Savior's saying: "The light of your body is your eye: but if your eye be single, your whole body will be full of light, but if your eye be evil, your whole body will be full of darkness" (Matthew 6:22-23). Because discretion discerns all the thoughts and actions of people, it sees and oversees all things that should be done. But if this is evil in anyone—that is, not strengthened by sound judgment and knowledge, or deceived by some error and presumption—it will make our whole body full of darkness. That is, it will darken all our mental vision and our actions, as they will be wrapped in the darkness of vices and the gloom of disturbances. For He says, "If the light which is in you be darkness, how great will that darkness be!" (Matthew 6:23). 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 result from deliberation and discretion, must be involved in the darkness of still greater sins.

And so I remember that while I was still a boy, in the region of Thebaid, where the blessed Antony lived, the elders came to him to inquire about perfection: and though the conference lasted from evening till 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 you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was an hungred and you gave Me to eat, I was thirsty and you gave Me to drink, etc.: Matthew 25:35-36 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 allow 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 your body is your eye: but if your eye be single, your whole body will be full of light, but if your eye be evil, your whole body will be full of darkness: Matthew 6:22-23 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 you be darkness, how great will that darkness be! Matthew 6:22-23 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.

The error of Saul and of Ahab, through which they were deceived because they lacked discretion.

Of the error of Saul and of Ahab, by which they were deceived through lack of discretion.

Lastly, the man who in God's judgment was the first to be worthy of the kingdom of His people Israel—because he lacked this eye of discretion—was actually cast down from the kingdom as if his whole body were full of darkness. Deceived by the darkness of this light and in error, he imagined that his own offerings were more acceptable to God than obedience to Samuel's command, and he met with an occasion of falling in the very matter in which he had hoped to please the Divine Majesty. And I say that ignorance of this discretion led Ahab the king of Israel, after a triumph and splendid victory that had been granted to him by God's favor, to imagine that his own mercy was better than the strict execution of God's command and what seemed to him a cruel rule. Moved by this consideration, while he desired to temper a bloody victory with mercy, he was rendered full of darkness in his whole body because of his indiscriminate clemency, and was irreversibly condemned to death.

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. 1 Samuel xv 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. 1 Kings xx

What Holy Scripture says about the value of discretion.

What is said of the value of discretion in Holy Scripture.

This is discretion, which is not only the light of the body but also called the sun by the Apostle, as it says Let not the sun go down upon your wrath. It is also called the guidance of our life, as it says Those who have no guidance fall like leaves. It is most truly named counsel, without which the authority of Scripture allows us to do nothing, so that we are not even permitted to take that spiritual wine which gladdens the heart of man without its regulating control, as it says Do everything with counsel, drink your wine with counsel, and again like a city that has its walls destroyed and is not fenced in, so is a man who does anything without counsel. And how harmful the absence of this is to a monk is shown by the illustration and figure in the passage quoted, which compares it to a city that is destroyed and without walls. In this lies wisdom, in this lies intelligence and understanding, without which our inner house cannot be built, nor can spiritual riches be gathered together, as it says 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. This, I say, is solid food, which can only be taken by those who are fully grown and strong, as it says But solid food is for full grown men, who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern good and evil. And it is shown to be useful and necessary for us only insofar as it is in accordance with the word of God and its powers, as it says 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. 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 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 highest 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.

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. Ephesians 4:26 It is also called the guidance of our life: as it said Those who have no guidance, fall like leaves. It is most truly named counsel, without which the authority of Scripture allows us to do nothing, so that we are not even permitted to take that spiritual wine which makes glad the heart of man without its regulating control: as it is said Do everything with counsel, drink your wine with counsel, and again like a city that has its walls destroyed and is not fenced in, so is a man who does anything without counsel. 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. 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. Hebrews 5:14 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: Hebrews 4:12 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.

Concerning the death of the old man Heron.

Of the death of the old man Heron.

And to support this judgment delivered long ago by the blessed Antony and the other fathers with a recent example, as we promised to do, remember what you recently saw happen before your very eyes—I mean how the old man Heron, only a very few days ago, was cast down by a delusion of the devil from the heights to the depths. This was a man whom we remember to have lived for fifty years in this desert and to have maintained strict continence with exceptional severity, and who pursued the privacy of solitude with remarkable fervor beyond all those who live here. By what trick or method was he deceived by the deceiver after so many labors? And why did his fall, a most terrible downfall, strike profound grief into 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 advice and discussions of the brethren and the regulations of the elders? He had always practiced unceasing abstinence and fasting with such severity, and persisted in the privacy of solitude and his 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, he alone would not join them for fear that he might seem to relax somewhat from his purpose by eating even a little porridge. 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 threw himself down a well so deep that the eye could not see to its bottom, not doubting at all the promise of the angel who had assured him that the merits of his virtues and labors were such that he could not possibly run any risk. And so that he might prove the truth of this most certainly by testing 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 from there unharmed. And when by great efforts on the part of the brethren he had been pulled out already almost dead, on the third day afterward he died, and what was still worse, he persisted in his obstinate delusion so that not even the experience of his death could persuade him that he had been deceived by the trickery of devils. Therefore, despite the merits of his great labors and the number of years which he had spent in the desert, those who with compassion and the greatest kindness pitied his end could hardly obtain from Abbot Paphnutius that he should not be counted among suicides and be deemed unworthy of the memorial and offering for those at rest.

And to support this judgment delivered of old by the blessed Antony and the other fathers by a modern instance, as we promised to do, remember what you lately saw happen before your very eyes, I mean, how the old man Heron, only a very few days ago was cast down by an illusion of the devil from the heights to the depths, a man whom we remember to have lived for fifty years in this desert and to have preserved a strict continence with special 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 that he should not be reckoned among suicides, and be deemed unworthy of the memorial and oblation for those at rest.

On the destruction of two brethren for lack of discretion.

Of the destruction of two brethren for lack of discretion.

What shall I say of those two brothers who lived beyond the desert of the Thebaid, where the blessed Antony once lived? Not being sufficiently guided by careful discernment, when they were traveling through the vast and extended wilderness, they decided not to take any food with them except what the Lord Himself might provide for them. As they wandered through the deserts and were already fainting from hunger, they were spotted at a distance by the Mazices, a race even more savage and ferocious than almost all wild tribes. These people are not driven to shed blood, as other tribes are, by desire for plunder, but by simple ferocity of mind. Yet acting contrary to their natural ferocity, they met the brothers with bread. One of the two, as discernment 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. Though this situation arose in the first place from a blameworthy conviction, one of them, with the help of discernment, overcame the idea he had rashly and carelessly conceived. But the other, persisting in his obstinate foolishness and being utterly lacking in discernment, brought upon himself that death which the Lord would have prevented, since 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.

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 (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.

A delusion that someone else fell into because they lacked good judgment.

Of an illusion into which another fell for lack of discretion.

Why should I even speak of someone (whose name I'd rather not mention since he is still alive) who for a long time received a devil disguised in the brightness of an angelic form, and was repeatedly deceived by countless revelations from him, believing he was a messenger of righteousness? During this time, every night he was provided light in his cell without needing any lamp. Finally, the devil ordered him to offer up his own son, who was living with him in the monastery, as a sacrifice to God, so that his merits might equal those of the patriarch Abraham through this sacrifice. He was so completely deceived by this persuasion that he would actually have committed the murder if his son had not seen him preparing the knife and sharpening it with unusual care, and searching for the chains he intended to use to tie him up for the sacrifice when he was going to offer him up. The son fled away in terror, sensing the crime that was about to happen.

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.

On the Fall and Deception of a Monk from Mesopotamia.

Of the fall and deception of a monk of Mesopotamia.

It would take too long to tell the full story of how a monk from Mesopotamia was deceived. This monk had practiced an extreme form of fasting that few in that region could match, and he had done this for many years while hidden away in his cell. Eventually, he was so misled by revelations and dreams sent by the devil that after all his labors and good works—in which he had exceeded all others living in those parts—he tragically fell back into Judaism and underwent circumcision of the flesh. The devil's strategy was this: by getting him used to visions and wanting to trick him into believing a lie in the end, the devil acted like a truthful messenger and for a long time revealed to him things that were completely true. Finally, the devil showed him Christian people along with the leaders of our religion and faith—namely, the Apostles and Martyrs—in darkness and filth, foul and disfigured with all manner of squalor. On the other hand, he showed him the Jewish people with Moses, the patriarchs and prophets, dancing with complete joy and shining with dazzling light. In this way, the devil convinced him that if he wanted to share in their reward and happiness, he must immediately submit to circumcision. None of these people would have been so miserably deceived if they had tried to acquire the power of discretion. The misfortunes and trials of many demonstrate how dangerous it is to lack the grace of discretion.

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.

A question about acquiring true discretion.

A question about the acquirement of true discretion.

To this Germanus replied: It has been fully and completely shown, both by recent examples and by the decisions of the ancients, that discretion is in a certain sense the source and root of all virtues. We want to learn, then, how it should be gained, or how we can tell whether it is genuine and from God or spurious and from the devil. In this way, using the image from that gospel parable you discussed on an earlier occasion—in which we are commanded to become good money changers—we may be able to see the image of the true king stamped on the coin and to detect what is not properly stamped on currency that is in circulation. As you said in yesterday's discussion using an ordinary expression, we may reject it as counterfeit, guided by that skill which you treated with enough fullness and detail and showed ought to belong to the man who is spiritually a good money changer of the gospel. For what good will it be to have recognized the value of that virtue and grace if we do not know how to seek it and to gain it?

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) 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 fullness 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?

I notice you've provided a heading/title ("The answer how true discretion may be gained") but no paragraph text to rewrite.

Could you please provide the actual paragraph content that you'd like me to rewrite in modern English?

The answer how true discretion may be gained.

True discretion, he said, is only secured by true humility. The first proof of this humility is shown by submitting everything—not only what you do but also what you think—to the examination of the elders, so that you do not trust your own judgment at all but accept their decisions in all matters, and acknowledge what should be considered good or bad based on their teaching. This practice will not only teach a young man to walk the right path through true discretion, but will also protect him from all the schemes and deceits of the enemy. A person cannot possibly be deceived who lives not by his own judgment but according to the example of the elders, nor will our cunning enemy be able to exploit the ignorance of someone who is not accustomed out of false modesty to hide all the thoughts that arise in his heart, but either rejects them or allows them to remain according to the mature judgment of the elders. A wrong thought loses its power the moment it is revealed, and even before discretion passes judgment on it, the foul serpent is by the power of confession dragged out, so to speak, from his dark underground hiding place, exposed, and sent away in disgrace. Evil thoughts will dominate us only as long as they are hidden in the heart. To help you understand even more clearly the power of this judgment, I will tell you what Abbot Serapion did and what he often used to tell the younger brothers for their instruction.

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. 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, and what he used often to tell to the younger brethren for their edification.

The words of Abbot Serapion on the decline of thoughts that are exposed to others, and also on the danger of self-confidence.

The words of Abbot Serapion on the decline of thoughts that are exposed to others, and also on the danger of self-confidence.

While I was still a young man and staying with Abbot Theonas, he said, this habit was forced on me by the attacks of the enemy: after I had eaten supper with the old man at the ninth hour, I would secretly hide a biscuit in my clothes every day and eat it later on the sly without his knowledge. Though I was constantly guilty of this theft with the consent of my will and the lack of restraint that comes from desire grown habitual, yet when my unlawful desire was satisfied I would come to my senses and torment myself over the theft I had committed in a way that outweighed the pleasure I had enjoyed in eating it. When I was forced to carry out this heavy task day after day, not without grief of heart, as if required by Pharaoh's taskmasters instead of making bricks, and I could not escape from this cruel tyranny, yet I was ashamed to disclose the secret theft to the old man. But by the will of God it happened that I was delivered from the yoke of this voluntary captivity when certain brothers came to the old man's cell seeking instruction from him. After supper, when the spiritual conference had begun and the old man was answering their questions by speaking about the sin of gluttony and the power of secret thoughts, showing their nature and the terrible power they have as long as they are kept secret, I was overcome by the force of his teaching. I was struck by conscience and terrified, thinking that he mentioned these things because the Lord had revealed my secret sins to the old man. First I began to sigh quietly, and then my heart's compunction increased until I openly burst into sobs and tears. I pulled out from the folds of my clothes, which had shared in and received my theft, the biscuit I had carried off in my bad habit to eat secretly. I laid it in the middle of the group and, lying on the ground and begging for forgiveness, confessed how I used to eat one every day in secret. With many tears I begged them to ask the Lord to free me from this dreadful slavery. Then the old man said: Have faith, my child. Without any words of mine, your confession frees you from this slavery. Today you have triumphed over your victorious adversary by laying him low through your confession, more than making up for the way you were overthrown by him through your former silence. You never confronted him with your own answer or that of another, but allowed him to lord it over you, according to Solomon's saying: "Because sentence is not speedily pronounced against the evil, the heart of the children of men is full within them to do evil." Therefore, after this exposure of him, that evil spirit will no longer be able to trouble you, nor will that foul serpent continue to make his hiding place in you, since he has been dragged out into the light from the darkness by your life-giving confession. The old man had not finished speaking when suddenly a burning lamp came out from the folds of my clothing and filled the cell with a sulfurous smell so strong that we could barely stay there. The old man resumed his instruction and said: Look! The Lord has visibly confirmed to you the truth of my words, so that you can see with your eyes how the one who was the author of your 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, since his expulsion has been made visible. And so, as the old man declared, he said, the power of that diabolical tyranny over me was destroyed by the force of this confession and stilled forever, so that the enemy has never even tried to force on me again the memory of this desire, nor have I ever felt myself gripped by the passion of that secret longing. We can see this meaning neatly expressed in a figure in Ecclesiastes: "If a serpent bite without hissing there is no sufficiency for the charmer," showing that the bite of a serpent in silence is dangerous. That is, if a suggestion or thought coming from the devil is not shown through confession to some charmer—I mean some spiritually minded person who knows how to heal the wound at once with charms from Scripture and 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 we will easily arrive at the knowledge of true discretion, so that by following the example of the elders we never do anything novel or decide anything by our own authority, but walk in all things as we are taught by their tradition and upright life. The person who is strengthened by this system will not only reach the perfect method of discretion but will also remain perfectly safe from all the tricks of the enemy. For the devil drags down a monk so rapidly and leads him to death by no other fault so much as when he persuades him to despise the counsel of the elders and to rely on his own opinion and judgment. If all the arts and skills discovered by human ingenuity, even those useful only for the conveniences of this temporary life, though they can be felt with the hand and seen with the eye, yet cannot be understood by anyone without lessons from a teacher, how foolish it is to imagine that there is no need for an instructor in this one thing alone which is invisible and secret and can only be seen by the purest heart—a mistake which brings about not merely a temporary loss or one that can easily be repaired, but the destruction of the soul and everlasting death. For this concerns 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 this conflict is more dangerous to everyone in proportion as the foe is fiercer and the attack more secret. Therefore we should always follow the footsteps of the elders with the utmost care and bring to them everything that rises in our hearts, removing the veil of shame.

While, said he, I was still a lad, and stopping with Abbot Theonas, this habit was forced upon me by the assaults of the enemy, that after I had supped with the old man at the ninth hour, I used every day secretly to hide a biscuit in my dress, which I would eat on the sly later on without his knowing it. And though I was constantly guilty of the theft with the consent of my will, and the want of restraint that springs from desire that has grown inveterate, yet when my unlawful 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:' 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, 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.

A confession of the modesty that made us ashamed to reveal our thoughts to the elders.

A confession of the modesty which made us ashamed to reveal our thoughts to the elders.

Germanus: The basis of that harmful modesty, through which we try to hide evil thoughts, is especially due to this reason: we have heard of a superior among the Elders in the region of Syria who, as was believed, when one of the brothers had revealed his thoughts to him in a genuine confession, was afterwards extremely angry and harshly rebuked him for them. The result is that while we keep these thoughts to ourselves and are ashamed to make them known to the Elders, we cannot obtain the remedies that would heal them.

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.

The answer about crushing shame underfoot, and the danger facing someone who lacks repentance.

The answer concerning the trampling down of shame, and the danger of one without contrition.

Just as all young men are not alike in their spiritual fervor or equally trained in learning and good character, we cannot find that all old men are equally perfect and excellent. For the true riches of old men are not measured by grey hair but by their diligence in youth and the rewards of their past labors. For as one says, the things you have not gathered in your youth, how will you find them in your 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 hair, and a spotless life is old age. Therefore we should not follow in the footsteps or embrace the traditions and advice of every old man whose head is covered with grey hair and whose age is his only 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 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 laziness, and so obtain authority not from the maturity of their character but simply from the number of their years. Against these that reproof of the Lord is especially aimed by the prophet: Strangers have devoured his strength and he knew it not: yes, grey hair also is spread about upon him, and he is ignorant of it. 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 hair to deceive the younger men, by a wrongful appeal to their authority, and tries 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 he drags them down by means of their teaching and practice either into a harmful 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 person, lest we might be guilty of something similar to the man who publicized 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 desires and the spirit of fornication, expecting 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, unworthy of the name of monk, while he could be affected by such a sin and lust. And instead of helping him he 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 about how to cure his passion but how to gratify his lust, the Abbot Apollos, the most skillful of the Elders, met him, and seeing by his appearance and gloominess his trouble and the violence of the assault which he was secretly revolving in his heart, asked him the reason for 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 appearance, 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 calmed 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 which he would overcome 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 are 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 saw a filthy Ethiopian standing opposite his cell and aiming fiery darts at him, with which he was immediately wounded, and came out of his cell and ran about here and there 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 produced in him this mental aberration and confusion of the understanding. And so he came up to him and asked Where 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?

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 you have not gathered in your youth, how shall you find them in your 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. 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. Hosea 7:9 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, 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 here and there 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, because of his guilty conscience and confused by this disgraceful excitement, imagined that the lust of his heart had been discovered, and since the secrets of his heart were known to the old man, he did not dare to give any answer to his questions, the old man said: Return to your cell, and finally recognize that until now you have been ignored or despised by the devil, and not counted among 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 the Lord has allowed you to be wounded with this so that you may at least learn in your old age to sympathize with weaknesses that are foreign to you, and may know from your own case and experience how to show understanding toward the frailties of the young. Yet when you received a young man troubled by an attack from the devil, you did not encourage him with any consolation, but instead 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 certainly would never have attacked him with such a fierce assault, with which he has until now scorned to attack you, unless in his jealousy at the progress the young man was to make, he had tried to overcome that virtue which he saw lay in his character, and to destroy it with his fiery darts, since he knew without any doubt that he was the stronger, because he considered it worthwhile to attack him with such violence. 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 harsh words, but rather restore them with gentle and kind consolations. As the wise Solomon says, spare not to deliver those who are led forth to death, and to redeem those who are to be killed, and after the example of our Savior, do not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax, and ask of the Lord that grace by which you yourself may faithfully learn both in deed and power to sing: the Lord has given me a learned tongue that I should know how to uphold by word the one who is weary. For no one could bear the devices of the enemy, or extinguish or suppress those carnal fires which burn with a kind of natural flame, unless God's grace assisted our weakness, or protected and supported it. And therefore, since the reason for this beneficial 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 makes sorry and cures, He strikes and His hands heal, He humbles and exalts, He kills and makes alive, He brings down to the grave and brings up. May He extinguish with the abundant dew of His Spirit the fiery darts of the devil, which at my request 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 allowed 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, even if our crafty enemy makes a wrongful use of their grey hairs in order to deceive younger men. Instead, without any cloak of shame, everything should be disclosed to the elders, and remedies for wounds should be faithfully received from them together with examples of life and conduct. From these we will find similar help and the same kind of result, if we try to do nothing at all on our own authority and judgment.

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, Proverbs 24:11 and after the example of our Saviour, break not the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax, Matthew 12:20 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 has given me a learned tongue that I should know how to uphold by word him that is weary: Isaiah 50:4 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 makes sorry and cures: he strikes and his hands heal. He humbles and exalts, he kills and makes alive: he brings down to the grave and brings up), and may extinguish with the abundant dew of His Spirit the fiery darts of the devil, which at my desire He allowed to wound you. And although the Lord removed this temptation at a single prayer of the old man with the same speed with which He had suffered it to come upon him, yet He showed by a clear proof that a man's faults when laid bare were not merely not to be scolded, but that the grief of one in trouble ought not to be lightly despised. And therefore never let the clumsiness or shallowness of one old man or of a few deter you and keep you back from that life-giving way, of which we spoke earlier, or from the 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.

Samuel's Call

Samuel was raised in the temple and served the Lord under Eli the priest. One night, the Lord called Samuel by name. Samuel thought Eli was calling him and ran to him, saying "Here I am, for you called me." But Eli said "I did not call; go back and lie down." This happened three times. Then Eli understood that the Lord was calling the boy. He told Samuel, "Go, lie down, and if He calls you, say 'Speak, Lord, for your servant hears.'" When the Lord called again, Samuel answered as Eli had instructed him. The Lord revealed to Samuel that He would judge Eli's house because Eli knew his sons were blaspheming God, yet he did not restrain them. In the morning, Eli asked Samuel what the Lord had said. Samuel told him everything, hiding nothing. Eli replied, "It is the Lord; let Him do what seems good to Him." Samuel grew, and the Lord was with him, and none of his words fell to the ground. All Israel from Dan to Beersheba knew that Samuel was established as a prophet of the Lord.

Of the call of Samuel.

Finally, this view has been shown to be so pleasing to God that we see this practice reasonably holds a place in Holy Scripture. When the Lord chose the boy Samuel for judgment, He did not instruct him directly through divine conversation. Instead, He allowed him to run to the old man once or twice, and He willed that the one He was calling to speak with Him should be taught even by someone who had offended God—since he was an old man. He preferred that the one He had deemed worthy to be called by Him should be trained by the elder, in order to test the humility of the one called to divine office and to set an example for younger men through the manner of his submission.

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.

Of the call of the Apostle Paul.

Of the call of the Apostle Paul.

When Christ personally called and spoke to Paul, although He could have immediately revealed to him the complete way of perfection, He chose instead to send 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 you what you ought to do" (Acts 9:6). So He sends him to an older man and considers it better to have him instructed by that man's teaching rather than His own, to prevent what might have been rightly done in Paul's case from setting a bad example of self-sufficiency. Otherwise, each person might convince himself that he too should be trained by God's government and teaching alone rather than by the instruction of the Elders. The apostle himself teaches, not only through his letters but through his actions and deeds, that this self-sufficiency ought to be avoided with all possible care. He says that he went up to Jerusalem solely for this reason: to communicate in a private and informal conference with his fellow apostles and those who came before him concerning the Gospel which he preached to the Gentiles, even though the grace of the Holy Spirit accompanied 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" (Galatians 2:2). 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 needed conference with his fellow apostles? From this we clearly see that the Lord does not Himself show the way of perfection to anyone who, having the opportunity of learning, despises the teaching and training of the Elders, paying no heed to that saying which ought most carefully to be observed: "Ask your father and he will show it to you: your Elders and they will tell you" (Deuteronomy 32:7).

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 you what you ought to do. Acts 9:6 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. Galatians 2:2 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 your father and he will show it to you: your Elders and they will tell you. Deuteronomy 32:7

How to Seek Discretion

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 unharmed by either extreme. There is an old saying, akrotetes isotetes, meaning that extremes meet. For excessive fasting and gluttony lead to the same result, and unlimited vigils are just as harmful to a monk as the lethargy of deep sleep. When a man is weakened by excessive abstinence, he is sure to fall back into the same condition that comes from carelessness and negligence. We have often seen those who could not be deceived by gluttony destroyed by excessive fasting and, because of their weakness, become vulnerable to the very passion they had previously overcome. Unreasonable vigils and nighttime watchings have also been the ruin of some whom sleep could not defeat. Therefore, as the apostle says, with the arms of righteousness on the right hand and on the left (2 Corinthians 6:7), we proceed with due moderation and walk between the two extremes, under the guidance of discretion, so that we may not consent to be led away from the path of continence marked out for us, nor fall through undue carelessness into the pleasures of the palate and belly.

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 ἀκρότητες ἰσότητες, 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, 2 Corinthians 6:7 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.

On excessive fasts and vigils.

On excessive fasts and vigils.

I remember that I had resisted the desire for food so often that after going without eating for two or three days, my mind was not even troubled by the thought of any food. I also remember that sleep was so completely driven from my eyes by the devil's attacks that for several days and nights I used to pray to the Lord to grant me a little sleep. At those times I felt I was in greater danger from the lack of food and sleep than from battling sloth and gluttony. Therefore, just as we must be careful not to fall into dangerous weakness through craving bodily pleasure, and not eat before the proper time or consume too much, we must also refresh ourselves with food and sleep at the appropriate time even if we don't feel like it. In both cases, the struggle is caused by the enemy's schemes. Excessive abstinence is even more harmful to us than careless overeating, because from overeating a healthy sense of remorse will raise us to the right level of discipline, but not from excessive abstinence.

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.

A question on the right measure of abstinence and refreshment.

A question on the right measure of abstinence and refreshment.

Germanus: What then is the right measure of abstinence that, by maintaining it with proper balance, will allow us to pass safely between these two extremes?

Germanus: What then is the measure of abstinence by keeping which with even balance we shall succeed in passing unharmed between the two extremes?

Concerning the Best Plan for Our Daily Food

Of the best plan for our daily food.

We know this matter has been frequently discussed among our Elders. When they debated the abstinence of some who lived continuously on nothing but beans or only on vegetables and fruits, they recommended to all of them to eat bread alone, setting the proper measure at two biscuits so small that they barely weighed a pound.

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.

An objection concerning the ease of that abstinence in which a person is sustained by two biscuits.

An objection on the ease of that abstinence in which a man is sustained by two biscuits.

We gladly accepted this and answered that we would hardly consider this limit to be abstinence, since we could not possibly reach it completely.

And this we gladly embraced, and answered that we should scarcely consider this limit as abstinence, as we could not possibly reach it entirely.

The answer concerning the value and standard of well-tested abstinence.

The answer concerning the value and measure of well-proved abstinence.

If you want to test the power of this rule, stick to this limit constantly, never departing from it by taking any cooked food even on Sunday or Saturday, or when any of the brethren arrive. The flesh, refreshed by these exceptions, is able not only to sustain itself through the rest of the week on a smaller amount, but can also delay all refreshment without difficulty, since it is supported by the extra food it has received beyond the limit. But the person who has always been content with the full amount of the measure mentioned above will never be able to do this, nor to put off eating until the next day. I remember that our elders (and I recall that we ourselves also often had the same experience) found it so hard and difficult to practice this abstinence, and kept the rule 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.

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.

What is the usual limit for both fasting and eating food.

What is the usual limit both of abstinence and of partaking food.

But this is the usual limit of abstinence: for everyone to allow himself food according to the requirements of his strength or bodily constitution or age, in such quantity as is needed to support the flesh, and not to satisfy a feeling of fullness. For a man will suffer the greatest harm on both sides if, having no fixed rule, at one time he restricts his stomach with meager food and fasting, and at another time stuffs it by overeating. When the mind is weakened for lack of food, it loses strength in praying, since it is worn out with excessive bodily weakness and forced to fall asleep. But when it is weighed down with overeating, it cannot pour out pure and free prayers to God. Nor will it succeed in preserving the purity of its chastity without interruption, because even on those days when it seems to discipline the flesh with stricter abstinence, it feeds the fire of carnal desire with the fuel of the food it has already consumed.

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.

How the abundance of genital fluids is to be restrained.

Quemadmodum abundantia umorum genitalium castigetur.

For what has once been accumulated in the marrow through excessive food must necessarily be expelled and driven out by the very law of nature itself, which does not allow any overflow of superfluous fluid to remain within itself as something harmful and contrary to it. Therefore our body must always be disciplined by reasonable and moderate restraint, so that if, dwelling in the flesh by this natural necessity, we cannot be entirely free of it, at least the course of the entire year may find us affected by this discharge no more than three times at most—and this only what quiet sleep expels without any stimulation, not what a deceptive image, revealing hidden pleasure, draws forth.

Nam quod semel per escarum abundantian concretus fuerit in medullis, necesse est egeri atque ab ipsa naturæ lege propelli, quæ exuberantiam cujuslibet umoris superflui velut noxiam sibi atque contrariam in semet ipsa residere non patitur ideoque rationabili semper et æquali 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 occultæ voluptatis eliciat.

Therefore this is the moderate and balanced rule and measure of abstinence which we have described, which also has the approval of the fathers' judgment: namely, that daily hunger should accompany our daily meals, preserving both body and soul in one and the same condition, and not allowing the mind either to grow weak through exhaustion from fasting or to be weighed down by overeating. For it results in such a restrained diet that sometimes a person neither notices nor remembers in the evening that he has eaten.

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.

# Chapter 24

On the difficulty of maintaining uniformity in eating, and on the gluttony of brother Benjamin.

Of the difficulty of uniformity in eating; and of the gluttony of brother Benjamin.

This is so difficult that those who lack perfect discernment would rather fast for two days and save today's food for tomorrow, so that when they finally eat, they can enjoy as much as they want. You know that your fellow citizen Benjamin stubbornly clung to this practice. He refused to eat his two biscuits every day or to maintain his modest diet with consistent self-discipline. Instead, he preferred to fast for two days so that when he ate, he could fill his greedy stomach with a double portion, enjoy a comfortable feeling of fullness by eating four biscuits, and manage to fill his belly through a two-day fast. You surely remember what became of this man who stubbornly and persistently relied on his own judgment rather than on the traditions of the Elders. He abandoned the desert and returned to the empty philosophy of this world and earthly vanities. By his downfall he confirmed the Elders' opinion mentioned above, and by his destruction he teaches the lesson that no one who trusts in his own opinion and judgment can possibly reach the heights of perfection or avoid being deceived by the dangerous tricks of the devil.

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.

A question: how is it possible to always observe one and the same measure?

A question how is it possible always to observe one and the same measure.

Germanus: How then can we maintain this measure without ever breaking it? For sometimes at the ninth hour when the Station fast is over, brothers come to visit us, and then we must either add something to our fixed and customary portion for their sake, or else fail in that courtesy which we are told to show to everyone.

Germanus: How then can we observe this measure without ever breaking it? For sometimes at the ninth hour when the Station fast is over, brethren come to see us and then we must either for their sakes add something to our fixed and customary portion, or certainly fail in that courtesy which we are told to show to everybody.

The answer on how we should not go beyond the proper limit of food.

The answer how we should not exceed the proper measure of food.

Both duties must be observed in the same way and with equal care: we ought to preserve our proper allowance of food most carefully for the sake of our abstinence, and likewise show courtesy and encouragement out of charity to any brothers who may arrive. It is absolutely ridiculous when you offer food to a brother—indeed, to Christ Himself—not to eat it with him, but to make yourself a stranger to his meal. We shall keep clear of guilt on both sides if we follow this plan: at the ninth hour, eat one of the two biscuits that form our proper canonical allowance, and keep the other until evening in anticipation of something like this—that if any of the brothers comes to see us, we may eat it with him, and so add nothing to our own customary allowance. By this arrangement, the arrival of our brother, which ought to give us pleasure, will cause us no inconvenience, since we shall show him the courtesies that hospitality requires in a way that relaxes nothing of the strictness of our abstinence. But if no one comes, we may freely take this last biscuit as belonging to us according to our canonical rule. Through this frugality—since a single biscuit was taken at the ninth hour—our stomach will not be overloaded in the evening, which often happens with those who, thinking they are observing a stricter abstinence, put off all their food until evening. The fact that we have only recently eaten prevents our intellect from being bright and keen both in our evening and in our nocturnal prayers. Therefore, a convenient and suitable time has been allowed for food at the ninth hour, when a monk can refresh himself and find that he is not only fresh and alert during his nocturnal vigils, but also perfectly ready for his evening prayers, as his food is already digested.

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 this two-course banquet, so to speak, the holy Moses instructed us, showing us not only the grace and power of discretion through his learned speech, but also the method of renunciation and the goal and purpose of the monastic life through the discussion held earlier. He made clearer than daylight what we had previously pursued simply with fervor of spirit and zeal for God but with closed eyes, and made us realize how far we had wandered until then from purity of heart and the straight path of our course, since the practice of all visible skills belonging to this life cannot possibly exist without understanding their purpose, nor can it be undertaken without a clear vision of a definite goal.

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.

BY ST. JOHN CASSIAN

BY ST. JOHN CASSIAN

FIRST CONFERENCE WITH ABBOT MOSES.

FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.

The obligation I promised to the blessed Pope Castor in the preface to those volumes—which with God's help I wrote in twelve books on the Institutes of the Coenobia and the remedies for the eight principal faults—has now been fulfilled to the best of my limited ability. I would certainly like to know what opinion you and he fairly reached about this work: whether we have produced anything worthy of your attention and of the eager desire of all the holy brothers on so profound and lofty a matter, one which has never before been the subject of a treatise. But now, since the aforementioned Bishop has left us and departed to be with Christ, I have decided to dedicate these ten Conferences of the greatest of the fathers—namely, the Anchorites who lived in the desert of Scete—especially to you, blessed Pope Leontius and holy brother Helladius. He had asked me, fired with an incomparable desire for holiness, to write these Conferences for him in the same style, not considering in his great affection what a burden he was placing on shoulders too weak to bear it. One of you was united to the man I mentioned by the bonds of brotherhood and the rank of priesthood and, what matters more, by fervor in sacred study, and so has an inherited right to demand the debt owed to his brother. The other has ventured to follow the sublime customs of the Anchorites—not presumptuously on his own like some others, but seizing on the right path of doctrine at the inspiration of the Holy Spirit almost before being taught, and choosing to learn from their traditions rather than from his own ideas. Just as I had anchored in the harbor of Silence, a wide sea now opens before me, so that I must venture to hand down for posterity some of the Institutes and teaching of these great men. For the boat 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 greater than that of the Coenobium, and the contemplation of God to which those invaluable men constantly devoted themselves is more sublime than ordinary practical life. It is therefore for you to assist our efforts with your devout prayers, lest so sacred a subject that is to be treated in an untried but faithful manner should be endangered 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 way of life of the monks, 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 rise to that continuance in unceasing prayer which the Apostle commands, so that whoever has through reading our former work already spiritually gained the name of Jacob by casting out his fleshly faults may now, by receiving the Institutes which are not mine but the fathers', rise by a pure insight to the merits and, so to speak, the dignity of Israel, and in the same way be taught what he should observe on these lofty heights of perfection. And so may your prayers obtain from Him who has deemed us worthy both to see them and to learn from them and to live with them, that He will grant us a perfect recollection of their teaching and a ready tongue to tell it, so that we may explain them as beautifully and as accurately 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 matters more, speaking in the Latin tongue. However, we wish above all to advise the reader of these conferences as well as of our earlier works that if there happens to be anything here which, because of his condition and the character of his profession, or because of custom and the common way 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. He should first consider their zeal and purpose, as they were truly dead to this worldly life and so hampered by no feelings for their relatives 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 lived: how they lived in a vast desert and were cut off from contact 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 ordinary character of their habits. But if anyone wants to give a true opinion on this matter and is eager to try whether such perfection can be attained, let him first try to make their purpose his own with the same zeal and the same way of life, and then in the end he will find that those things which used to seem beyond human powers are not only possible but really delightful. But now let us proceed at once to their Conferences and Institutes.

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 Cœnobia, 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, Leontius, and holy brother Helladius. For one of you was united to him whom I have mentioned, by the ties of brotherhood, and the rank of the priesthood, and (what is more to the point) by fervour in sacred study, and so has an hereditary right to demand the debt due to his brother: while the other has ventured to follow the sublime customs of the Anchorites, not like some others, presumptuously on his own account, but seizing, at the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, on the right path of doctrine almost before he had been taught and choosing to learn not so much from his own ideas as from their traditions. Wherein just as I had anchored in the harbour of Silence, a wide sea opens out before me, so that I must venture to hand down for posterity some of the Institutes and teaching of these great men. For the bark of my slender abilities will be exposed to the dangers of a longer voyage on the deep, in proportion as the Anchorite's life is grander than that of the Cœnobium, 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. 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.

During our stay in Scete, we presented our proposal to Abbot Moses.

Of our stay in Scete, and that which we proposed to Abbot Moses.

When I was in the desert of Scete, where the most excellent monastic fathers live and where all perfection flourishes, I was accompanied by the holy father Germanus. He had been my closest companion from the earliest days and beginning of our spiritual service, both in the community monastery and in the desert. Our friendship and purposes were so united that everyone would say a single heart and soul existed in our two bodies. I sought out Abbot Moses, who stood out among those splendid figures, not only in practical matters but also in contemplative excellence, because I was eager to be grounded by his instruction. Together we begged him to give us a discourse for our spiritual growth, and we did so with tears. We knew very well that he had made it his practice never to agree to open the gate of perfection except to those who desired it with complete faithfulness and sought it with heartfelt sorrow. He feared that if he revealed it carelessly to those who did not care about it or only wanted it half-heartedly, by disclosing what is necessary and what should only be shown to those seeking perfection—if he revealed this to unworthy people who would receive it with scorn—he might appear either to be guilty of boasting or guilty of betraying his trust. At last, overcome by our prayers, he began speaking as follows.

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 Cœnobium and in the desert, so that to show the harmony of our friendship and aims, everybody would say that a single heart and soul existed in our two bodies), I sought out Abbot Moses, who was eminent amid those splendid flowers, not only in 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.

Concerning the question of Abbot Moses, who asked what the goal and what the end of the monk are.

Of the question of Abbot Moses, who asked what was the goal and what the end of the monk.

All the arts and sciences, he said, have some goal or mark, and an end or aim of their own, on which the diligent pursuer of each art fixes his eye, and so endures all sorts of toils and dangers and losses, cheerfully and calmly. For example, the farmer, avoiding neither the scorching heat of the sun at one time nor the frost and cold at another, tirelessly breaks up the earth and again and again runs the plough through the clods of his field, keeping before him his goal: to break it up fine like sand through diligent labor, to clear it of all briars, and to free it from all weeds, because he believes that only in this way can he achieve his ultimate end, which is to get a good harvest and a large crop, on which he can either live without worry or increase his possessions. Again, when his barn is well stocked, he is quite ready to empty it and with constant labor to commit the seed to the crumbling furrow, thinking nothing of the present reduction of his stores in view of the future harvest. Those who are engaged in business have no fear of the uncertainties and risks of the ocean, and fear no dangers, while an eager hope drives them forward to their goal of profit. Moreover, those who are driven by the ambition of military life, while they look forward to their goal of honors and power, take no notice of danger and destruction in their campaigns, and are not crushed by present losses and wars, while they are eager to obtain the end of some honor 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 this, the lack 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 become tiresome to us, and further, incessant toil and self-denial and the deprivation of all things and the horrors also of this vast desert have no terrors for us. And surely it was for this that you yourselves despised the love of family and scorned your homeland and the pleasures of this world and passed through so many countries in order to come to us, plain and simple folk as we are, living in this wretched state in the desert. Therefore, he said, answer and tell me what is the goal and end that move you to endure all these things so cheerfully.

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.

Our response:

Of our reply.

When he kept pressing us to give our opinion on this question, we answered that we endured all this for the sake of the kingdom of heaven.

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.

Moses the Abbot asked: How can the mind remain unwavering in its concentration on God, and how can it keep hold of the thought of him without interruption, so that throughout the entire day it may never be separated from contemplating him? For although I have heard from you that the mind cannot remain fixed on a single thought without wandering, I would still like to learn how it might be kept focused on God, since we know that God alone can and ought to be contemplated by the pure in heart continuously and without distraction.

Of Abbot Moses' question on the aforesaid statement.

To this he replied: Good, you have spoken skillfully about the ultimate end. But you should first understand what our immediate goal or target should be—the one we must constantly stay close to in order to reach our end. When we frankly admitted we didn't know, he continued: The first thing in all arts and sciences, as I said, is to have some goal, that is, a target for the mind and a constant mental focus, because unless a person keeps this before him with complete diligence and persistence, he will never succeed in reaching the ultimate aim and the benefit he desires. For, as I said, the farmer whose aim is to live without worry and with abundance, while his crops are growing, has this as his immediate objective and goal: to keep his field clear of all thorns and weeds. He doesn't imagine he can ensure wealth and a peaceful outcome unless he first secures through some plan of work and expectation what he is eager to obtain. The merchant too doesn't abandon his desire to acquire goods through which he can more profitably accumulate wealth, because he would want profit pointlessly unless he chose the road that leads to it. And those who are eager to be honored with worldly distinctions first decide what duties and conditions they must commit themselves to, so that through the normal course of expectation they may succeed in gaining the honors they desire. And so the end of our way of life is indeed the kingdom of God. But you must earnestly ask what the immediate goal is, because if we don't discover it in the same way, we will struggle and exhaust ourselves for nothing, since a person who is traveling in the wrong direction has all the trouble but gets none of the benefit of his journey. When we stood there amazed at this statement, the old man continued: 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 reach that end. So fixing our gaze steadily on this goal, as if on a specific target, let us direct our course toward it as straight as possible. And if our thoughts wander at all from this, let us return our gaze to it and check them accurately as by a reliable standard, which will always bring all our efforts back to this one target and will show immediately if our mind has strayed even slightly from the direction marked out for it.

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.

A comparison with a person who is trying to hit a target.

A comparison with a man who is trying to hit a mark.

Just as those whose work involves military weapons try to demonstrate their skill before an earthly king by shooting their arrows or spears at small targets marked with prizes, they know they can only achieve their desired goal and prize by maintaining a straight line of aim. They can only obtain the prize when they successfully hit the target set before them. But if the target is removed from view, no matter how much their unskilled aim wanders from the straight path, they cannot tell that they have strayed from the intended straight line because they have no clear target to prove their aim's accuracy or reveal its failure. As they shoot their weapons aimlessly into empty space, they cannot see how they have missed or how completely they have failed, since no target stands to accuse them and show how far they have deviated from the right direction. Without a fixed point to look at, they cannot correct themselves or restore the straight line they were supposed to follow.

In the same way, our ultimate goal is, as the Apostle says, eternal life, as he declares: "having indeed your fruit unto holiness, and the end eternal life." But the immediate target is purity of heart, which he appropriately calls sanctification, and without this the ultimate goal cannot be reached. It is as if he had said in other words: having your immediate target in purity of heart, but the goal eternal life. The same blessed Apostle teaches us about this target, and significantly uses the very term, that is, skopos, saying: "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." This is more clearly expressed in Greek as kata skopon dioko—that is, "I press toward the mark"—as if he said: With this aim, by which I forget what lies behind (namely, the sins of my former life), I strive to reach the heavenly prize as my goal.

Whatever can help guide us toward this target—purity of heart—we must pursue with all our strength. But whatever hinders us from it, we must avoid as dangerous and harmful. For this purpose we do and endure everything; for this we count as nothing our relatives, our homeland, honors, riches, worldly pleasures, and all kinds of delights—namely, so that we may maintain lasting purity of heart. When this target is set before us, we will always direct our actions and thoughts straight toward achieving it. If it is not constantly kept before our eyes, not only will it make all our efforts vain and useless and force us to endure them without purpose or reward, but it will also stir up all kinds of contradictory thoughts. For the mind that has no fixed point to return to and to focus on primarily is certain to wander constantly from hour to hour and minute to minute through all sorts of aimless thoughts, and will be continually transformed by external influences into whatever state first presents itself.

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; Romans 6:22 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., σκοπός, 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: Philippians 3:13-14 which is more clearly put in Greek κατὰ σκοπὸν διώκω, 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.

Those who, in renouncing the world, aim at perfection without love.

Of those who in renouncing the world, aim at perfection without love.

This is why we have seen some people who have renounced the greatest possessions of this world—not only large amounts of gold and silver, but also extensive properties—later become disturbed and agitated over a knife, a pencil, a pin, or a pen. If they kept their gaze steadily fixed from a pure heart, they would certainly never allow such a thing to happen over trifles, when they chose to renounce great and valuable riches entirely precisely to avoid suffering this over them. Often some guard their books so possessively that they will not allow anyone else to even slightly move or touch them, and from this they encounter occasions of impatience and death, which warn them of their need to acquire the necessary patience and love. Even though they have given up all their wealth for the love of Christ, because they preserve their former disposition regarding trivial things and are sometimes quickly upset about them, they become completely barren and unfruitful—like those who lack the charity the Apostle speaks of. The blessed Apostle foresaw this in spirit and said, "Though I give all my goods to feed the poor, and give my body to be burned, but have not charity, it profits me nothing" (1 Corinthians 13:3). From this it clearly follows that perfection is not achieved simply by self-denial, giving up all our possessions, and rejecting honors, unless there is that charity whose details 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—what is all this except to continually offer God a perfect and clean heart, and to keep it free from all disturbances?

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 profits me nothing. 1 Corinthians 13:3 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?

How to Seek Peace of Mind

We should look for peace of mind not by changing our location, but by improving our character. Wherever we go, we carry our faults with us, and unless we first uproot them from our hearts through genuine humility, we will never find true peace. Even if we move to another place, we will face the same struggles we tried to escape, because we have not addressed the root cause within ourselves. The person who learns to control their thoughts and desires, and who submits to God's will with patient endurance, will find peace wherever they are. But the person who is restless and undisciplined in their inner life will be troubled no matter where they go.

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 solitude, for this we know we ought to submit to fastings, vigils, labors, bodily deprivation, reading, and all other virtues, so that through them we may be able to prepare our heart and keep it unharmed by all evil passions, and resting on these steps climb to the perfection of love. Regarding these practices, if by accident we have been occupied with some good and useful work and have been unable to carry out our customary discipline, we should not be overcome by frustration or anger or passion—the very things we were going to do what we omitted in order to overcome. For the benefit from fasting will not outweigh the damage from anger, nor is the profit from reading as great as the harm that results from despising a brother. Those things that are of secondary importance, such as fastings, vigils, withdrawal from the world, meditation on Scripture, we ought to practice with a view to our main goal, that is, purity of heart, which is love, and we ought not on their account to drive away this main virtue. For as long as it remains in us intact and unharmed, we shall not be hurt if any of the secondary things are necessarily omitted, since it will not be of the slightest use to have done everything if this main purpose of which we have spoken is removed—the purpose for the sake of which everything is to be done. For this is why someone is anxious to secure and provide the tools for any line of work: not simply to possess them for no purpose, nor as if the profit and advantage expected from them consisted in merely possessing them, but so that by using them one may effectively gain practical knowledge and achieve the goal of that particular craft for which they are aids. Therefore fastings, vigils, meditation on the Scriptures, self-denial, and the renunciation of all possessions are not perfection, but aids to perfection, because the goal of that discipline does not lie in these things, but through these we arrive at the goal. Anyone who practices these exercises to no purpose is content with these as if they were the highest good, has fixed the purpose of his heart simply on them, and does not extend his efforts toward reaching the goal for which these should be sought. He possesses the tools of his craft but is ignorant of the goal in which all value resides. Whatever can disturb that purity and peace of mind—even though it may seem useful and valuable—should be avoided as truly harmful, for by this rule we shall succeed in escaping harm from errors and wanderings, and make straight for the desired goal and reach it.

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.

Concerning the primary striving toward the contemplation of divine things, and an example from the case of Martha and Mary.

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 we should constantly aspire after this steadfast purpose of heart: that the soul may always cleave to God and to heavenly things. Whatever is alien to this, however great it may be, should be given second place, or even treated as of no consequence, or perhaps as harmful. We have an excellent illustration of this state of mind and condition in the Gospel in the case of Martha and Mary. When Martha was performing a service that was certainly sacred, since she was ministering to the Lord and His disciples, and Mary was intent only on spiritual instruction and clinging close to the feet of Jesus, which she kissed and anointed with the ointment of a good confession, the Lord shows that she has chosen the better part, one which should not be taken away from her. When Martha was laboring with devout care and was burdened by her service, seeing that she alone was insufficient for such service, she asks the Lord for her sister's help, saying: Do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her therefore to 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, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but few things are needful, or only one. Mary has chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her. You see then that the Lord makes the chief good consist in meditation—that is, in divine contemplation. From this we see that all other virtues should be put in second place, even though we admit that they are necessary, useful, and excellent, because they are all performed for the sake of this one thing. For when the Lord says: You are 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 one. He declares that few things are needful for perfect blessedness—that is, that contemplation which is first secured by reflecting on a few saints. From the contemplation of these, the one who has made some progress rises and attains by God's help to what is termed one thing—that is, 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.

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: Do You not care 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, you are anxious and troubled about many things: but few things are needful, or only one. Mary has chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her. 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: You are 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.

A question: how is it that the practice of virtue cannot remain with a man.

A question how it is that the practice of virtue cannot remain with a man.

To this we replied, deeply troubled: What then? Will the effort of fasting, diligence in reading, works of mercy, justice, piety, and kindness be taken away from us and not remain with those who do them? This is especially troubling since the Lord Himself promises the reward of the kingdom of heaven for these works when He says: Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the beginning of the world. For I was hungry, and you gave Me to eat; I was thirsty and you gave Me to drink, etc. How then can these works be taken away when they admit those who do them into the kingdom of heaven?

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, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the beginning of the world. For I was an hungred, and you gave Me to eat; I was thirsty and you gave Me to drink: etc. Matthew 25:34-35 How then shall these works be taken away, which admit the doers of them into the kingdom of heaven?

The answer is that not the reward, but the doing of them will come to an end.

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" (Matthew 10:42). But I maintain that the doing of a thing, which either bodily necessity, or the assault of the flesh, or the inequalities of this world compel us to do, will be taken away. For diligence in reading and self-denial in fasting are usefully practiced for purifying the heart and disciplining the flesh in this life only, as long as the flesh lusts against the spirit (Galatians 5:17). And sometimes we see that even in this life they are taken away from those who are worn out with excessive labor, or bodily infirmity or old age, and cannot be practiced by them. How much more then will they come to an end hereafter, when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption (1 Corinthians 15:53), and the body which is now a natural body shall have risen a spiritual body (1 Corinthians 15:44), 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 (1 Timothy 4:8). This clearly shows that what is said to be useful for a little is not to be practiced for all time, and cannot possibly by itself alone confer the highest state of perfection on the person who labors at it. For the phrase "for a little" may mean either of two things: it may refer to the shortness of time, because bodily exercise cannot possibly last with a person both in this life and in the world to come; or it may refer to the smallness of the benefit that 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 consider 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 would not need them to be performed unless such a large number of poor, needy, and sick people abounded, which is brought about by the wickedness of men—namely, of those who have seized and kept for their own use (without even 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 person who practices 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 no longer be inequality on account of which these things must be done. Instead, all people will pass from these manifold practical works to the love of God and contemplation of heavenly things in continual purity of heart. Those who are eager to devote themselves to knowledge and purifying the heart have chosen to give themselves up to this with all their might and strength, dedicating 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 Savior, which says "Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God" (Matthew 5:8).

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: Matthew 10:42 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 lusts against the spirit, Galatians 5:17 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, 1 Corinthians 15:53 and the body which is now a natural body shall have risen a spiritual body 1 Corinthians 15:44 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. 1 Timothy 4:8 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. Matthew 5:8

On the enduring nature of love.

On the abiding character of love.

And why are you surprised that the duties listed above will come to an end, when the holy Apostle tells us that even the higher gifts of the Holy Spirit will pass away, and points out that love alone will remain forever, 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 "Love never fails." For all gifts are given temporarily as use and need require, but when that dispensation is finished they will undoubtedly pass away immediately. But love will never be destroyed. For it not only works usefully in us in this world, but also in the world to come, when the burden of bodily needs is cast off, it will continue with far greater strength and excellence, and will never be weakened by any defect. Rather, through its perpetual incorruption it will cling to God more intently and earnestly.

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 fails. 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. 1 Corinthians 13:8

A question on perseverance in spiritual contemplation.

A question on perseverance in spiritual contemplation.

Germanus. Who then, while burdened with our frail flesh, can be so constantly focused on this contemplation as never to think about the arrival of a brother, visiting the sick, manual labor, or at least showing kindness to strangers and visitors? And finally, who is not interrupted by providing for the body and looking after it? We would like to learn how and in what way the mind can cling to the invisible and incomprehensible God.

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.

The answer concerning the direction of the heart toward God and concerning the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the devil.

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, hold fast to meditation on Him in an unbreakable way is impossible for a person while still in this weak flesh of ours. But we ought to be aware of what the purpose of our mind should be fixed on, and toward what goal we should always direct the gaze of our soul. When the mind can secure this, it should rejoice; when it is withdrawn from this, it should grieve and sigh. As often as the mind discovers that it has fallen away from gazing on Him, it should acknowledge 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 even a little from Him, let us turn the eyes of the soul back to Him and recall our mental gaze in a perfectly straight direction. For everything depends on the inward state of mind, and when the devil has been expelled from it and sins no longer reign in it, it follows that the kingdom of God is established in us. As the Evangelist says, "The kingdom of God comes not with observation, nor shall people say 'Look here' or 'Look there,' for truly I say to you that the kingdom of God is within you." But nothing else can be within you except 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. The Apostle describes the character of this kingdom when he says, "For the kingdom of God is not food and drink, but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit." And so if the kingdom of God is within us, and the actual kingdom of God is righteousness and peace and joy, then the person who abides in these is most certainly in the kingdom of God. On the contrary, those who live in unrighteousness, discord, and the sorrow that produces death have their place in the kingdom of the devil, in hell and death. For by these signs the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the devil are distinguished. In truth, if we lift up our mental gaze on high and consider the state in which the heavenly powers live above, who are truly in the kingdom of God, what should we imagine it to be except perpetual and lasting joy? For what is so especially peculiar and appropriate to true blessedness as constant calm and eternal joy? And so that you may be entirely certain that what 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," He says, "I create new heavens and a new earth, and the former things shall not be remembered nor come into mind. But you shall be glad and rejoice forever in that which I create." And again, "Joy and gladness shall be found in it, thanksgiving and the voice of praise, and there shall be month after month and Sabbath after Sabbath." And again, "They shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away." And if you want to know more definitely about that life and the city of the saints, hear what the voice of the Lord proclaims to the heavenly Jerusalem herself: "I will make," He says, "your officers peace and your overseers righteousness. Violence shall no more be heard in your land, desolation nor destruction within your borders. And salvation shall take possession of your walls and praise of your gates. The sun shall be no more your light by day, neither shall the brightness of the moon give light to you, but the Lord shall be your everlasting light and your God your glory. Your sun shall no more go down, neither shall your moon withdraw itself, but the Lord shall be your everlasting light, and the days of your mourning shall be ended." Therefore the holy Apostle does not say generally or without qualification that every joy is the kingdom of God, but emphatically that only the joy which is in the Holy Spirit. For he was perfectly aware of another detestable joy, of which we hear, "The world shall rejoice," and "Woe to you that laugh, for you shall mourn." In fact, the kingdom of heaven must be taken in a threefold sense: either that the heavens shall reign—that is, the saints over other things subdued—according to this text, "You be over five cities, and you over ten," and what is said to the disciples, "You shall sit upon twelve thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel"; or that the heavens themselves shall begin to be reigned over by Christ when all things are subdued to Him and God begins to be all in all; or else that the saints shall reign in heaven with the Lord.

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 comes 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. Luke 17:20-21 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. Romans 14:17 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 works 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 you shall be glad and rejoice forever in that which I create. Isaiah 65:17-18 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. And again: they shall obtain joy and gladness; and sorrow and sighing shall flee away. Isaiah 35:10 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, your officers peace and your overseers righteousness. Violence shall no more be heard in your land, desolation nor destruction within your borders. And salvation shall take possession of your walls, and praise of your gates. The sun shall be no more your light by day, neither shall the brightness of the moon give light to you: but the Lord shall be your everlasting light, and your God your glory. Your sun shall no more go down, neither shall your moon withdraw itself: but the Lord shall be your everlasting light, and the days of your mourning shall be ended: Isaiah 60:17-20 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. Romans 14:17 For he was perfectly aware of another detestable joy, of which we hear the world shall rejoice, John 16:20 and woe unto you that laugh, for you shall mourn. Luke 6:25 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, You be over five cities, and you over ten; and this which is said to the disciples: You shall sit upon twelve thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel: Matthew 19:28 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: 1 Corinthians 15:28 or else that the saints shall reign in heaven with the Lord.

On the continuance of the soul.

Of the continuance of the soul.

Therefore, everyone while still living in this body should already be aware that he must be assigned to the state and condition of which he made himself a participant and follower while in this life. No one should doubt that in that eternal world he will be a companion of the one whose servant and minister he chose to become here, according to our Lord's words: If any man serve Me, let him follow Me, and where I am, there shall My servant also be. John 12:26 For just as the kingdom of the devil is gained by consenting to sin, so the kingdom of God is attained by practicing 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. The person who is in this condition cannot praise the Lord, according to the prophet's saying: The dead cannot praise You, O Lord; neither all they that go down into the grave (clearly of sin). But we, he says, who live (not to sin nor to this world but to God) will bless the Lord, from this time forth for evermore: for in death no man remembers God: but in the grave (of sin) who will confess to the Lord? That is, no one will. For no one, even though he were to call himself a Christian a thousand times over, or a monk, confesses God when he is sinning. No one who allows things that the Lord hates remembers God, nor can truthfully call himself the servant of Him whose commands he scorns with obstinate recklessness. In this death the blessed Apostle declares that the widow is involved who gives herself to pleasure, saying a widow who gives herself to pleasure is dead while she lives. 1 Timothy 5:6 There are then many who while still living in this body are dead, and lying in the grave cannot praise God. Conversely, there are many who though they are dead in the body yet bless God in the spirit and praise Him, according to this: O you spirits and souls of the righteous, bless the Lord: and every spirit shall praise the Lord. In the Apocalypse the souls of those who are slain are not only said to praise God but to address Him also. Revelation 6:9-10 In the gospel too the Lord says with even greater clarity to the Sadducees: Have you 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. Matthew 22:31-32 Of whom also the Apostle says: wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God: for He has prepared for them a city. Hebrews 11:16 That they are not idle after separation from this body, and are not incapable of feeling, the gospel parable shows, which tells us of the beggar Lazarus and the rich man clothed in purple, one of whom obtained a position of bliss, that is, Abraham's bosom, while the other is consumed with the dreadful heat of eternal fire. If you also want to understand the words spoken to the thief Today you shall be with Me in Paradise, Luke 23:43 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 merits? 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 dissolved 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, because they do not believe that Christ could be found in Paradise on the same day on which He descended into hell, punctuate it as Verily, I say unto you today, and making a stop apply you shall be with Me in Paradise, in such a way that they imagine this promise was not fulfilled at once after he departed from this life, but will be fulfilled after the resurrection. They do not understand what He declared before the time of His resurrection to the Jews, who fancied that He was hampered by human difficulties and weakness of the flesh as they were: No man has ascended into heaven, but He who came down from heaven, even the Son of man who is in heaven: John 3:13 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 are already beginning to taste beforehand something of what is reserved for them at the last judgment, and that they are not as some unbelievers hold dissolved into nothing after their departure from this life. Rather, they live a more real life and are even more earnest in attending to the praises of God. Indeed, to put aside Scripture proofs for a little, and to discuss, as far as our ability permits, a little about the nature of the soul itself: is it not beyond the bounds of—I will not say the folly, but the madness of all stupidity—even to have the slightest suspicion that the nobler part of man, in which as the blessed Apostle shows, the image and likeness of God consists, will, when the burden of the body with which it is oppressed in this world is laid aside, become insensible? For it contains in itself all the power of reason and 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. So far did the blessed Apostle recognize that what we say is true, that he actually wished to depart from this flesh so 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. 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 you have 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. Hebrews 12:22-23 Of these 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?

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. John 12:26 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 You, 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 remembers God: but in the grave (of sin) who will confess to the Lord? i.e., no one will. For no man even though he were to call himself a Christian a thousand times over, or a monk, confesses God when he is sinning: no man who allows those things which the Lord hates, remembers 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 gives herself to pleasure is dead while she lives. 1 Timothy 5:6 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 you spirits and souls of the righteous, bless the Lord: and every spirit shall praise the Lord. And in the Apocalypse the souls of them that are slain are not only said to praise God but to address Him also. Revelation 6:9-10 In the gospel too the Lord says with still greater clearness to the Sadducees: Have you 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. Matthew 22:31-32 Of whom also the Apostle says: wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God: for He has prepared for them a city. Hebrews 11:16 For that they are not idle after the separation from this body, and are not incapable of feeling, the parable in the gospel shows, which tells us of the beggar Lazarus and Dives clothed in purple, one of whom obtained a position of bliss, i.e., Abraham's bosom, the other is consumed with the dreadful heat of eternal fire. But if you care too to understand the words spoken to the thief Today you shall be with Me in Paradise, Luke 23:43 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 today, and making a stop apply you shall 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, 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 has ascended into heaven, but He who came down from heaven, even the Son of man who is in heaven: John 3:13 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: 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, 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; 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 you have 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. Hebrews 12:22-23 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?

We must understand that God is beyond all perception, for He is beyond essence and being itself, unreachable by thought or any nature. He is incomprehensible and ineffable to all, known only to Himself. God alone has knowledge of Himself perfectly, for no one knows the Father except the Son, nor the Son except the Father. The Holy Spirit too knows the things of God just as the human spirit knows what is in man. After the first and blessed nature, however, no one has ever known God except through His revelation—not only among humans, but even among the supramundane powers themselves, the very Cherubim and Seraphim. Yet God has not left us in complete ignorance, for knowledge of God's existence has been planted in everyone by nature. Creation itself, its maintenance and governance, proclaim the majesty of the divine physis. Moreover, the law and the prophets first, and afterwards His only-begotten Son, our Lord and God and Savior Jesus Christ, have made knowledge of Him possible to the degree we can receive it. Therefore, we receive everything handed down to us through the law, the prophets, the apostles, and the evangelists, and we know and honor these things, seeking nothing beyond them. For God, being good, is the cause of all good things, subject to neither envy nor any other passion—for envy is far removed from the divine physis, which is passionless and alone good. Since He knows all things and provides what is beneficial for each, He has revealed what it is profitable for us to know, while keeping silent about what we cannot bear.

How we must meditate on God.

But contemplation of God is gained in various ways. We discover God not only by admiring His incomprehensible essence—something that still lies hidden in the hope of the promise—but we also see Him through the greatness of His creation, through considering His justice, and through the help of His daily providence. With pure minds we contemplate what He has done with His saints in every generation. With trembling hearts we admire His power by 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 hidden. We consider the sand of the sea and the number of the waves measured and known by Him. 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. We gaze in unbounded admiration on that ineffable mercy of His, which with unwearied patience endures countless sins that are committed every moment under His very eyes. We contemplate the call by which, not from any previous merits of ours but by the free grace of His pity, He receives us. We consider the countless opportunities of salvation which He grants to those whom He is going to adopt—that He made us be born in such a way 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, and that finally He undertook the dispensation of His Incarnation for our salvation and extended the marvels of His sacraments to all nations. But there are countless other considerations of this sort that 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. Certainly no one will preserve these considerations lastingly if anything of carnal affections still survives in him, because, as the Lord says, you cannot see My face, for no man shall see Me and live (Exodus 33:20)—that is, live to this world and to earthly affections.

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 hidden, 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 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 you can not, says the Lord, see My face: for no man shall see Me and live; Exodus 33:20 viz., to this world and to earthly affections.

A question about the changing nature of thoughts.

A question on the changing character of the thoughts.

Germanus. How is it, then, that even against our will—and indeed without our awareness—idle thoughts creep in upon us so subtly and secretly that it is terribly difficult not only to drive them away, but even to recognize and catch hold of them? Can a mind ever be found free from them and never attacked by illusions of this kind?

Germanus. How is it then, that even against our will, aye and without our knowledge idle thoughts steal upon us so subtly 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?

The answer: what the mind can do and what it cannot do regarding the state of its thoughts.

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 person either to admit them or to reject them. Just as their arising 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 blame everything on the assault itself, or on those spirits who strive to plant these thoughts in us, otherwise there would be no free will remaining in humanity, nor would efforts for our improvement be in our power. Rather, it is, I say, to a great extent in our power to improve the character of our thoughts and to allow either holy and spiritual thoughts or earthly ones to grow up in our hearts. For this purpose we employ frequent reading and continual meditation on the Scriptures, so that from there an opportunity for spiritual recollection may be given to us. Therefore the frequent singing of Psalms is used, so that from there constant feelings of compunction may be provided, along with earnest vigils and fasts and prayers, so that the mind may be humbled and not focus on earthly things, but contemplate heavenly things. For if these practices are abandoned and carelessness creeps in, the mind being hardened with the foulness of sin is certain to incline in a carnal direction and fall away.

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.

Comparison of a soul and a millstone.

Comparison of a soul and a millstone.

This movement of the heart can be fittingly illustrated by comparing it to a millstone, which the rushing force of water spins around with revolving momentum and which cannot stop working as long as the water drives it. However, it is up to the person operating it to decide whether to grind wheat, barley, or weeds with it. Whatever is put into the mill by the person in charge must be crushed by it. In the same way, the mind is driven about by the torrents of temptations that pour in from all sides through the trials of this present life, and it cannot be free from the flow of thoughts. But the kind of thoughts it should either reject or accept depends on its own effort, earnestness, and diligence. For if, as we said, we constantly return to meditating on the Holy Scriptures and lift our memory toward recalling spiritual things, the desire for perfection, and the hope of future blessedness, spiritual thoughts will surely arise from this and cause the mind to dwell on what we have been meditating on. But if we are overcome by laziness or carelessness and waste our time in idle talk, or are entangled in worldly concerns and unnecessary worries, the result will be that a kind of weed will spring up and provide harmful occupation for our hearts. As our Lord and Savior says, wherever the treasure of our works or intentions may be, there our heart is sure to remain as well. Matthew 6:21

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. Matthew 6:21

Of the three origins of our thoughts.

Of the three origins of our thoughts.

Above all, we should at least know that our thoughts have three origins: from God, from the devil, and from ourselves. They come from God when He graciously visits us with the illumination of the Holy Spirit, lifting us up to a higher level of progress. When we have made little progress or have been overcome through laziness, He corrects us with most beneficial compunction. He may also reveal heavenly mysteries to us or turn our purpose and will toward better actions, as happened when King Ahasuerus, moved by the Lord, was prompted to ask for the record books. These reminded him of Mordecai's good deeds, and he promoted him to the highest honor and immediately revoked his cruel decree ordering the slaughter of the Jews. Or when the prophet says: I will listen to what the Lord God will say in me. Another also tells us: And an angel spoke and said in me. Or when the Son of God promised that He would come with His Father and make His dwelling in us, and: It is not you who speak, but the Spirit of your Father who speaks in you. And the chosen vessel says: You seek proof of Christ who speaks in me. But a whole range of thoughts springs from the devil when he tries to destroy us either through the pleasures of sin or through secret attacks. In his crafty schemes he deceitfully shows us evil as good, transforming himself into an angel of light for us, as when the evangelist tells us: And when supper was ended, the devil had already put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray the Lord. And again, after the morsel of bread, he says Satan entered into him. Peter also says to Ananias: Why has Satan tempted your heart to lie to the Holy Spirit? And what we read in the gospel was predicted much earlier by Ecclesiastes: If the spirit of the ruler rises up against you, do not leave your place. There is also what is said to God against Ahab in the third book of Kings, in the character of an unclean spirit: I will go forth and will be a lying spirit in the mouth of all his prophets. But thoughts arise from ourselves when, in the natural course of things, we recall what we are doing or have done or have heard. The blessed David speaks of this: 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. And again: The Lord knows the thoughts of man, that they are vain; and the thoughts of the righteous are judgments. In the gospel too, the Lord says to the Pharisees: Why do you think evil in your hearts?

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. Or when the prophet says: I will hearken what the Lord God will say in me. Another too tells us And an angel spoke, and said in me, Zechariah 1:14 or when the Son of God promised that He would come with His Father, and make His abode in us, John 14:23 and It is not you that speak, but the Spirit of your Father which speaks in you. Matthew 10:20 And the chosen vessel: You seek a proof of Christ that speaks in me. 2 Corinthians 13:3 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: 2 Corinthians 11:4 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 John 13:2 the Lord: and again also after the sop, he says, Satan entered into him. Peter also says to Ananias: Why has Satan tempted your heart, to lie to the Holy Ghost? Acts 5:3 And that which we read in the gospel much earlier as predicted by Ecclesiastes: If the spirit of the ruler rise up against you, leave not your place. Ecclesiastes 10:4 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. 1 Kings 22:22 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. And again: the Lord knows the thoughts of man, that they are vain: and the thoughts of the righteous are judgments. Proverbs 12:5 In the gospel too the Lord says to the Pharisees: why do you think evil in your hearts? Matthew 9:4

Concerning the discernment of thoughts, with an illustration from a good money-changer.

About discerning the thoughts, with an illustration from a good money-changer.

We should carefully observe this threefold order and analyze with wise discernment the thoughts that arise in our hearts, tracing their origin, cause, and author from the beginning. This way we can consider how we ought to respond to them according to what those who suggest them deserve. As the Lord's command tells us, we should become good money-changers whose highest skill and training is to test what is perfectly pure gold, what is commonly called tested gold, and what has not been sufficiently purified by fire. With unerring skill, we must not be deceived by a common brass coin that has been coated with bright gold to look like a valuable coin. We need to shrewdly recognize coins stamped with the heads of usurpers, and with even sharper skill detect those that have the image of the right king but are improperly made. Finally, we must carefully use a balance to check that they are not underweight. The gospel saying that uses this figure shows us that we ought to observe all these things spiritually as well. First, whatever has entered our hearts and whatever doctrine we have received should be most carefully examined to see whether it has been purified by the divine and heavenly fire of the Holy Spirit, or whether it belongs to Jewish superstition, or whether it comes from the pride of worldly philosophy and only makes an outward show of religion. We can do this if we follow the Apostle's advice: "Believe not every spirit, but prove the spirits whether they are of God" (1 John 4:1). By this kind of deception, men who have professed themselves as monks are also deceived when they are enticed by elegant writing style and certain doctrines of philosophers. At first glance, because of some pious meanings that seem compatible with religion, these teachings deceive their hearers with the glitter of gold and superficially attract them, but they make them poor and miserable forever, like people deceived by false copper money. They either bring them back to the busyness of this world or entice them into the errors of heretics and inflated pride. We read of this happening to Achan in the book of Joshua the Son of Nun (Joshua 7), when he coveted a golden weight from the camp of the Philistines and stole it, and was struck with a curse and condemned to eternal death. Second, we should be careful that no wrong interpretation attached to the pure gold of Scripture deceives us about the value of the metal. By this means the devil in his craftiness tried to deceive our Lord and Savior as if He were a mere man, when he twisted what should be understood generally about all good people and tried to apply it specifically to Him, who had no need of the angels' care. He said, "For He shall give His angels charge concerning You, to keep You in all Your ways: and in their hands they shall bear You up, lest at any time You dash Your foot against a stone." By skillful manipulation he gave a twist to the precious sayings of Scripture and bent them into a dangerous sense, the very opposite of their true meaning, so as to offer us the image and face of a usurper under cover of a gold coating that might deceive us. Or he tries to cheat us with counterfeits, for instance by urging that we take up some work of piety which, since it does not come from the true minds of the fathers, leads us under the form of virtue to vice. He deceives us either by immoderate or impossible fasts, or by excessively long vigils, or by inordinate prayers, or by unsuitable reading, and brings us to a bad end. Or when he persuades us to give ourselves over to meddling in others' affairs and to pious visits, by which he may drive us away from the spiritual enclosure of the monastery and the privacy of its friendly peacefulness, and suggests that we take on the anxieties and cares of religious women who are in need, so that when a monk is hopelessly entangled in snares of this sort, he may distract him with most harmful occupations and worries. Or 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 these things, although they are opposed to our salvation and our profession, when covered with a sort of veil of compassion and religion easily deceive those who lack skill and care. For they imitate the coins of the true king, because they seem at first full of piety, but they are not stamped by those who have the right to coin—that is, the approved Catholic fathers—nor do they proceed from the legitimate public office for receiving them. Instead, they are made secretly and by the fraud of the devil, and passed off on the unskilled and ignorant, causing them serious harm. And even if these things seem useful and necessary at first, if they later begin to interfere with the soundness of our profession and somehow weaken the whole body of our purpose, it is good that they should be cut off and cast away from us like a member that may be necessary but offends us and seems to perform the office of the right hand or foot. For it is better, without one member of a command—that is, its working or result—to remain safe and sound in other parts and to enter weak into the kingdom of heaven, rather than with the whole mass of commands to fall into some error which, through evil habit, separates us from our strict rule and the system we planned and adopted, and leads to such loss that it will never outweigh the harm that follows. Instead, it will cause all our past fruits and the whole body of our work to be burned in hell fire (Matthew 18:8). About this kind of illusion it is well said in Proverbs: "There are ways which seem to be right to a man, but their latter end will come into the depths of hell," and again, "An evil man is harmful when he attaches himself to a good man"—that is, the devil deceives when he is covered with an appearance of holiness—"but he hates the sound of the watchman"—that is, the power of discretion which comes from the words and warnings of the fathers.

We ought then carefully to notice this threefold order, and with a wise discretion to analyse the thoughts which arise in our hearts, tracking out their origin and cause and author in the first instance, that we may be able to consider how we ought to yield ourselves to them in accordance with the desert of those who suggest them so that we may, as the Lord's command bids us, become good money-changers, whose highest skill and whose training is to test what is perfectly pure gold and what is commonly termed tested, or what is not sufficiently purified in the fire; and also with unerring skill not to be taken in by a common brass denarius, if by being colored 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. 1 John 4:1 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, Joshua vii 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 You, to keep You in all Your ways: and in their hands they shall bear You up, lest at any time You dash Your foot against a stone, by a skilful assumption on his part giving a turn to the precious sayings of Scripture and twisting them into a dangerous sense, the very opposite of their true meaning, so as to offer to us the image and face of an usurper under cover of the gold color 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. Matthew 18:8 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, and again An evil man is harmful when he attaches himself to a good man, i.e., the devil deceives when he is covered with an appearance of sanctity: but he hates the sound of the watchman, i.e., the power of discretion which comes from the words and warnings of the fathers.

Concerning the illusion of Abbot John.

Of the illusion of Abbot John.

We have heard that Abbot John, who lived at Lycon, was recently deceived in this way. His body was exhausted and failing because he had gone without food for two days of fasting. On the third day, as he was on his way to take some refreshment, the devil came in the form of a filthy Ethiopian and fell at his feet, crying out, "Forgive me, because I imposed this labor on you." This great man, who was so accomplished in the practice of discretion, understood that he had been deceived by the devil's trickery under the pretense of practicing an unsuitable form of abstinence. He had engaged in a fast that affected his worn-out body with unnecessary and even spiritually harmful weariness. He had been deceived by a counterfeit coin—while he honored the image of the true king stamped on it, he had not been alert enough to examine whether it was properly cut and minted. But the final duty of a good money-changer, which we mentioned before, concerns examining the weight. This will be fulfilled if, whenever our thoughts suggest that something should be done, we carefully think it over and, placing it on the scales of our heart, weigh it with the most precise balance. We must determine whether it is full of good for all, or weighty with the fear of God, or whole and sound in meaning. Or is it light with human show or some notion of novelty? Has the pride of foolish vainglory diminished or lessened the weight of its merit? Therefore, immediately weighing these matters on the public scales—that is, testing them by the actions and evidence of the Apostles and Prophets—let us accept them as whole, perfect, and of full weight, or else carefully and diligently reject them as imperfect, counterfeit, and of insufficient weight.

In this manner we have heard that Abbot John who lived at Lycon, 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.

Regarding the fourfold method of distinction.

Of the fourfold method of discrimination.

This power of discernment will be necessary for us in the fourfold manner we have described. First, so that the material does not escape our notice—whether it is true gold or merely painted gold. Second, so that we may reject as forged and counterfeit coins those thoughts that falsely promise works of religion, since they are not properly stamped and bear a false image of the king. In the same way, we must be able to detect those thoughts that take the precious gold of Scripture and, through a false and heretical interpretation, display the image not of the true king but of a usurper. We must also refuse those thoughts whose weight and value the rust of vanity has diminished, preventing them from passing in the scales of the fathers, since they are too light, false, and lacking in proper weight. In this way we will not fall into what the Lord commands us to avoid with all our strength, and we will not lose the value and reward of all our labor: "Lay not up for yourselves treasures on the earth, where rust and moth corrupt and where thieves break through and steal" (Matthew 6:19). Whenever we do anything for human glory, we know that, as the Lord says, we are laying up treasure on earth. Consequently, being hidden in the ground and buried in the earth, it must be destroyed by various demons, consumed by the biting rust of vainglory, or devoured by the moths of pride, so that it contributes nothing to the benefit and profit of the one who has hidden it. We should therefore constantly examine all the inner chambers of our hearts and trace out the footsteps of whatever enters them with the closest investigation, lest perhaps some beast—if I may call it that—relating to the understanding, whether lion or dragon, has passed through and secretly left the dangerous marks of its tracks. These marks will show others the way of access into the secret recesses of the heart due to carelessness about our thoughts. And so, daily and hourly turning up the ground of our heart with the gospel plough—that is, the constant remembrance of the Lord's cross—we shall manage to stamp out and extirpate from our hearts the lairs of harmful beasts and the hiding places of poisonous serpents.

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. Matthew 6:19 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.

Concerning the teacher's discussion about the qualities of his listeners.

Of the discourse of the teacher in regard to the merits of his hearers.

When the old man saw that we were astonished and filled with an insatiable desire by the words of his teaching, he paused his speech for a moment because of our admiration and eagerness, and then added: Since your zeal, my sons, has led to such a long discussion, and a kind of fire gives sharper intensity to our conversation in proportion to your earnestness—from which I can clearly see that you are truly thirsting for instruction about perfection—I want to say something more to you about the excellence of discretion and the grace that rules and holds first place among all virtues. I want not only to demonstrate its value and usefulness through daily examples, but also from earlier deliberations and opinions of the fathers. For I remember that often when men were asking me with sighs and tears for this kind of teaching, and I myself was eager to give them some instruction, I could not possibly manage it. Not only my thoughts but even my very ability to speak failed me, so that I could not find a way to send them away with even some small consolation. From these signs we clearly see that the grace of the Lord inspires speakers with words according to the merits and zeal of the hearers. And because the very short night ahead of us does not allow me to finish this teaching, let us instead give it over to bodily rest—otherwise the whole night will be spent if we refuse to set aside a reasonable portion—and let us save the complete plan of this teaching for uninterrupted consideration on a future day or night. For it is right that the best teachers on discretion should demonstrate the diligence of their minds first of all in this matter, and prove whether they are or can be possessors of it by this evidence and patience, so that in treating that virtue which is the mother of moderation they may in no way fall into the vice opposite to it—namely, excessive length—thereby destroying by their actions and deeds the force of the system and nature they recommend in words. Therefore, concerning this most excellent discretion, about which we still intend to inquire as far as the Lord gives us ability, it may first of all be a good thing, when we are discussing its excellence and the moderation we know exists in it as the first of virtues, not to allow ourselves to exceed the proper limit of the discussion and of our time.

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 blessed Moses ended our conversation and urged us, eager though we were and hanging on his words, to go to bed for a little while. He told us to lie down on the same mats where we had been sitting and to use our bundles as pillows instead of regular ones. These bundles were tied evenly with thicker papyrus leaves gathered into long, narrow bundles spaced six feet apart. They served the brothers in two ways: when sitting at prayer they provided a very low seat like a footstool, and when lying down to sleep they could be placed under the neck to support the head—not too hard, but comfortable and just right. The monks found these especially practical and suitable not only because they were somewhat soft and made at little cost of money and effort, since papyrus grew everywhere along the Nile's banks, but also because they were made of convenient material and light enough to be moved or fetched as needed. And so finally, at the old man's instruction, we settled down to sleep in deep stillness, both excited with delight at the conversation we had held and also filled with hope for the promised discussion to come.

And so with this the blessed Moses put a stop to our talk, and urged us, eager though we were and hanging on his lips, to go off to bed for a little, advising us to lie down on the same mats on which we were sitting, and to put our bundles under our heads instead of pillows, as these being tied evenly to thicker leaves of papyrus collected in long and 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.

Chapter 1.

Our eighth combat is against the spirit of pride, and what it is like.

How our eighth combat is against the spirit of pride, and of its character.

Our eighth and final combat is against the spirit of pride. Although this evil comes last in our struggle with our faults and stands at the end of the list, it is actually first in origin and in the order of time. It is a savage beast more terrible than all the previous ones, attacking especially those who are perfect and destroying with its dreadful bite those who have nearly reached the completion of virtue.

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.

There are two kinds of pride.

How there are two kinds of pride.

And of this pride there are two kinds: the first, which we said troubles even the best and spiritually minded people; the second, which attacks even beginners and carnal persons. And though each kind of pride is stirred up in relation to both God and man through a dangerous sense of superiority, that first kind has more particularly to do with God, while the second relates especially to men. We will, by God's help, discuss the origin of this second kind and its remedies as thoroughly as possible in the latter part of this book. We now intend to say a few things about that first kind, by which, as I mentioned before, those who are perfect are especially tested.

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.

How pride is equally destructive of all virtues.

How pride is equally destructive of all virtues.

No other fault is as destructive of all virtues, robbing and stripping a person of all righteousness and holiness, as this evil of pride. Like some pestilential disease, it attacks the whole person, and not content to damage just one part or one limb, it injures the entire body with its deadly influence. It tries to cast down and destroy through a fatal fall those who had already reached the top of the tree of virtues. Every other fault is satisfied within its own boundaries and limits. Though it may cloud other virtues as well, it is mainly directed against one only, and specifically attacks and assaults that one. So, to make my meaning clearer, gluttony—that is, the appetites of the belly and the pleasures of the palate—is destructive of strict temperance. Lust stains purity. Anger destroys patience. Sometimes a person who is enslaved to one particular sin is not completely lacking in other virtues. Being simply deprived of that one virtue which yields in the struggle to the vice that is its rival and opposite, he can to some extent preserve his other virtues. But pride, once it has taken possession of some unfortunate soul, acts like a brutal tyrant. When the lofty citadel of the virtues has been captured, it utterly destroys and lays waste the whole city. Leveling the once high walls of saintliness down to the ground of vices and confusing them together, it allows no shadow of freedom to survive in the soul subject to it. The richer the soul was originally, the more severe the yoke of servitude will be, through which pride will strip the subdued soul of all its powers of virtue by its cruel ravages.

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.

How Lucifer was changed from an archangel into a devil because of pride.

How by reason of pride Lucifer was turned from an archangel into a devil.

And that we may understand the power of its terrible tyranny, we see that the angel who was called Lucifer because of the greatness of his splendor and beauty was cast out of heaven for no other sin but this. Pierced by the dart of pride, he was hurled down from his grand and exalted position as an angel into hell. If pride of heart alone was enough to cast down from heaven to earth a power so great and adorned with such mighty attributes, the very greatness of his fall shows us how carefully 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 can the remedies for unhealthy conditions be revealed unless their origin and causes are first investigated by wise scrutiny. For since he, Lucifer, was endowed with divine splendor and shone forth among the other higher powers by the generosity of his Maker, he believed that he had acquired the splendor 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 kindness of God's generosity. And for this reason he was puffed up as if he needed no 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 anyone. Trusting in the power of his own will, he imagined that through it he could richly supply himself with everything necessary for the perfection of virtue or for the perpetuation of perfect blessedness. This thought alone was the cause of his first fall. Because of this, being forsaken by God, whom he imagined 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," and of Adam and Eve, "You shall be as gods," therefore God shall 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."

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, Isaiah 14:13-14 and of Adam and Eve, You 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.

That all incentives to sin spring from pride.

That incentives to all sins spring from pride.

This is the reason for the first fall and the starting point of the original disease. Pride worked its way into the first man through the one who had already been destroyed by it, and produced the weaknesses and sources of all faults. By believing that through the freedom of his will and his own efforts he could obtain the glory of divinity, man actually lost the glory he already possessed as a free gift from the Creator.

This is the reason of the first fall, and the starting point of the original malady, which again insinuating itself into the first man, through him who had already been destroyed by it, produced the weaknesses and materials of all faults. For while he believed that by 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.

The sin of pride is last in the actual order of combat, but first in time and origin.

That the sin of pride is last in the actual order of the combat, but first in time and origin.

Scripture clearly establishes through examples and testimonies that the evil of pride, though it comes later in the sequence of spiritual combat, is earlier in origin and is the beginning of all sins and faults. Unlike the other vices, it is not merely fatal to its opposing virtue—in this case, humility—but is also destructive of all virtues at the same time. Nor does it only tempt ordinary people and the lowly, but especially those who already stand at the heights of courage. The prophet speaks of this spirit, saying, "His meat is choice." So the blessed David, though he guarded the innermost parts of his heart with the greatest care, so that he dared to say to Him from whom the secrets of his conscience were not hidden, "Lord, my heart is not exalted, nor are my eyes lofty: neither have I walked in great matters, nor in wonderful things above me. If I was not humbly minded"; and again, "He that works pride shall not dwell in the midst of my house"—yet, because he knew how difficult such watchfulness is even for the perfect, he did not rely on his own efforts but prayed to God and begged for His help, so that he might escape unwounded by the attacks of this enemy, saying, "Let not the foot of pride come to me." He feared and dreaded falling into what is said of the proud: "God resists the proud" (James 4:6); and again: "Every one that exalts his heart is unclean before the Lord."

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. For thus the prophet speaks of this spirit, His meat is choice. 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; and again, He that works pride shall not dwell in the midst of my house; yet, as he knew how hard is that watchfulness even for those that are perfect, he did not so presume on his own efforts, but prayed to God and implored His help, that he might escape unwounded by the darts of this foe, saying, Let not the foot of pride come to me, for he feared and dreaded falling into that which is said of the proud, viz., God resists the proud; James 4:6 and again: Every one that exalts his heart is unclean before the Lord.

The evil of pride is so great that it rightly has even God Himself as its adversary.

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 or other virtues opposed to it, but God Himself as its adversary! We should note that it is never said of those entangled in other sins that they have God resisting them. I mean, it is not said that God opposes the gluttonous, fornicators, the passionate, or the covetous, but only the proud. Those other sins affect only those who commit them, or seem to be committed against those who share in them—that is, against other people. But this sin has more properly to do with God, and therefore it is especially right that it should have Him opposed to it.

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.

How God has destroyed the pride of the devil through the virtue of humility, and various passages in proof of this.

How God has destroyed the pride of the devil by the virtue of humility, and various passages in proof of this.

God, the Creator and Healer of all, knows that pride is the cause and source of evils, so he has been careful to heal opposites with opposites, so that what was ruined by pride might be restored by humility. For the one says, "I will ascend into heaven," while the other says, "My soul was brought low even to the ground." The one says, "And I will be like the most High," while the other, "Though He was in the form of God, yet He emptied Himself and took the form of a servant, and humbled Himself and became obedient unto death." The one says, "I will exalt my throne above the stars of God," while the other says, "Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly of heart." The one says, "I know not the Lord and will not let Israel go," while the other says, "If I say that I know Him not, I shall be a liar like you: but I know Him, and keep His commandments." The one says, "My rivers are mine and I made them," while the other says, "I can do nothing of myself, but my Father who abides in me, He does the works." The one says, "All the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them are mine, and to whomsoever I will, I give them," while the other says, "Though He were rich yet He became poor, that we through His poverty might be made rich." The one says, "As eggs are gathered together which are left, so have I gathered all the earth: and there was none that moved the wing or opened the mouth, or made the least noise," while the other says, "I have become like a solitary pelican; I watched and became as a sparrow alone upon the roof." The one says, "I have dried up with the sole of my foot all the rivers shut up in banks," while the other says, "Cannot I ask my Father, and He shall presently give me more than twelve legions of angels?" If we look at the reason for 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 can learn, either through the fall of the devil or through the example of Christ, how to avoid such a terrible death from pride.

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; Isaiah 14:13 the other, My soul was brought low even to the ground. The one says, And I will be like the most High; the other, Though He was in the form of God, yet He emptied Himself and took the form of a servant, and humbled Himself and became obedient unto death. Philippians 2:6-8 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. Matthew 11:29 The one says, I know not the Lord and will not let Israel go; Exodus 5:2 the other, If I say that I know Him not, I shall be a liar like you: but I know Him, and keep His commandments. John 8:55 The one says, My rivers are mine and I made them: the other: I can do nothing of myself, but my Father who abides in me, He does the works. The one says, All the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them are mine, and to whomsoever I will, I give them; Luke 4:6 the other, Though He were rich yet He became poor, that we through His poverty might be made rich. 2 Corinthians 8:9 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; Isaiah 10:14 the other, I have become like a solitary pelican; I watched and became as a sparrow alone upon the roof. The one says, I have dried up with the sole of my foot all the rivers shut up in banks; Isaiah 37:25 the other, Cannot I ask my Father, and He shall presently give me more than twelve legions of angels? Matthew 26:53 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.

How we too can overcome pride.

How we too may overcome pride.

We can escape the trap of this most evil spirit if, whenever we sense that we are making progress in any virtue, we speak these words of the Apostle: Not I, but the grace of God with me, and by the grace of God I am what I am; and it is God that works in us both to will and to do of His good pleasure. As the author of our salvation Himself also says: If a man abide in me and I in him, the same bears much fruit; for without me you can do nothing. And Unless the Lord builds the house, they labour in vain that build it. Unless the Lord keeps the city, the watchman wakes but in vain. And Vain is it for you to rise up before light. For it is not of him that wills, nor of him that runs, but of God that has mercy.

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; 1 Corinthians 15:10 and it is God that works in us both to will and to do of His good pleasure. Philippians 2:13 As the author of our salvation Himself also says: If a man abide in me and I in him, the same bears much fruit; for without me you can do nothing. John 15:5 And Unless the Lord builds the house, they labour in vain that build it. Unless the Lord keeps the city, the watchman wakes but in vain. And Vain is it for you to rise up before light. For it is not of him that wills, nor of him that runs, but of God that has mercy. Romans 9:16

No one can attain perfect virtue and the promised blessedness by their own strength alone.

How no one can obtain perfect virtue and the promised bliss by his own strength alone.

No one's will and effort, no matter how eager and anxious, is sufficient by itself—while still living in the flesh that wars against the spirit—to reach such a great prize of perfection and the crown of uprightness and purity, unless he is protected by divine compassion, so that he may be granted the privilege of attaining what he greatly desires and pursues. For every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights. James 1:17 For what do you have which you did not receive? But if you have received it, why do you boast as if you had not received it? 1 Corinthians 4:7

For the will and course of no one, however eager and anxious, is sufficiently ready for him, while still enclosed in the flesh which wars 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 comes down from the Father of lights. James 1:17 For what do you have which you did not receive? But if you have received it, why do you glory as if you had not received it? 1 Corinthians 4:7

The case of the thief and of David, and of our calling, are used to illustrate the grace of God.

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 admitted into paradise because of a single confession, 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, 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 also consider 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 the one who wills nor of the one who runs, but of God who has mercy. He 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. For no tortures of this body, and no contrition of heart, can be sufficient for acquiring that true chastity of the inner man so as 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, that is, 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.

For if we recall that thief who was by reason of a single confession admitted into paradise, Luke 23:40 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, 2 Samuel 12:13 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 wills nor of him that runs, but of God that has 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.

No labor is worthy to be compared with the promised bliss.

That no toil is worthy to be compared with the promised bliss.

For all the long years of this present life disappear when you consider the eternity of future glory, and all our sorrows vanish away when we contemplate that vast happiness. They melt away like smoke, come to nothing, and like ashes are no longer seen.

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.

The teaching of the elders on the method of acquiring purity.

The teaching of the elders on the method of acquiring purity.

The time has come to present the opinion of the Fathers in their own words—those who did not simply describe the way of perfection and its nature with lofty language, but who actually possessed it in deed and truth and in the virtue of their spirit, and passed it on through their own experience and reliable example. They say that no one can be completely cleansed from bodily sins unless he has understood that all his labors and efforts are insufficient for such a great and perfect goal. He must be taught not merely by the system handed down to him, but by his own feelings and virtues and personal experience, so that he recognizes this can only be achieved through God's mercy and help. To gain such splendid and lofty prizes of purity and perfection, no matter how great one's efforts of fasting, vigils, reading, solitude, and withdrawal may be, these will not be enough to secure it through the merit of the actual efforts and work themselves. A person'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 response to his prayer.

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

The help of God is given to those who work diligently.

That the help of God is given to those who labour.

I am not saying this to belittle human efforts or to discourage anyone from their goal of working and doing their best. Rather, I clearly and earnestly lay down—not my own opinion, but that of the elders—that perfection cannot possibly be attained without these efforts, but that these efforts alone, without God's grace, can never achieve it. When we say that human efforts by themselves cannot secure perfection without God's help, we are insisting that God's mercy and grace are given only to those who labor and work hard, and are granted (to use the Apostle's expression) to those who will and run, as is sung in the voice of God in the eighty-eighth Psalm: "I have laid help upon one that is mighty, and have exalted one chosen out of my people." For we say, following our Savior's words, that it is given to those who ask, opened to those who knock, and found by those who seek (Matthew 7:7). But the asking, seeking, and knocking on our part are not enough unless God's mercy gives what we ask, opens what we knock at, and enables us to find what we seek. For He is ready to grant all these things, if only our good will gives Him the opportunity. He desires and looks for our perfection and salvation far more than we ourselves do. And the blessed David knew so well that he could not by his own efforts secure the growth of his work and labor that he repeatedly prayed for the Lord's direction of his work, saying, "Direct the work of our hands over us; yes, direct the work of our hands," and again: "Confirm, O God, what you have wrought in us."

Nor do I say this to cast a slight on human efforts, or in the endeavour to discourage any one from his purpose of working and doing his best. But clearly and most earnestly do I lay down, not giving my own opinion, but that of the elders, that perfection cannot possibly be gained without these, but that by these only without the grace of God nobody can ever attain it. For when we say that human efforts cannot of themselves secure it without the aid of God, we thus insist that God's mercy and grace are bestowed only upon those who labour and exert themselves, and are granted (to use the Apostle's expression) to them that will and run, according to that which is sung in the person of God in the eighty-eighth Psalm: I have laid help upon one that is mighty, and have exalted one chosen out of my people. For we say, in accordance with our Saviour's words, that it is given to them that ask, and opened to them that knock and found by them that seek; Matthew 7:7 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 the work of our hands over us; yea, the work of our hands do you direct; and again: Confirm, O God, what you have wrought in us.

From whom we can learn the way of perfection.

From whom we can learn the way of perfection.

If we truly want to reach the highest level of virtue, we should listen to those teachers and guides who do not merely give impressive speeches but have learned through actual practice and experience. They can teach us, direct us, and show us the most reliable path to reach this goal. They also testify that they themselves have reached it through faith rather than through any merit of their own efforts. Moreover, the purity of heart they have gained has taught them this above all: to recognize more and more that they are burdened with sin (for their remorse for their sins grows daily as their purity of soul increases), and to sigh constantly from the depths of their hearts because they see they cannot possibly avoid the stains and flaws of those sins that are deeply rooted in them through countless trivial thoughts. Therefore, they declared that they looked for the reward of eternal life not from the merit of their works, but from the Lord's mercy. They took no credit for their greater vigilance of heart compared to others, since they attributed this not to their own efforts but to divine grace. Rather than flattering themselves because of the negligence of those who are lukewarm and worse than themselves, they aimed at lasting humility by fixing their eyes on those whom they knew to be truly free from sin and already enjoying eternal blessedness in the kingdom of heaven. Through this perspective they avoided the downfall of pride, and at the same time always saw both what they were striving for and what they had to grieve over: they knew they could not attain that purity of heart for which they longed while weighed down by the burden of the flesh.

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.

We cannot even make the effort to obtain perfection without the mercy and inspiration of God.

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, to press toward it and be diligent in fasting, vigils, prayers, and contrition of heart and body, lest all these things be rendered useless by an attack of this illness. For we ought to believe not only that we cannot achieve this actual perfection by our own efforts and hard work, but also that we cannot perform those things which we practice for its sake—namely, our efforts, hard work, and desires—without the help of divine protection and the grace of His inspiration, discipline, and encouragement, which He ordinarily pours out in our hearts either through the agency of another person or by coming to visit us Himself.

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.

Various passages that clearly show we cannot do anything that belongs to our salvation without the aid of God.

Various passages which clearly show that we cannot do anything which belongs to our salvation without the aid of God.

Finally, the Author of our salvation teaches us what we ought not merely to think, but also to acknowledge in everything we do. "I can do nothing of my own self," He says, "but the Father who abides in me, He does the works." He says this speaking in the human nature He had taken. If He says He could do nothing of Himself, shall we, who are dust and ashes, think we have no need of God's help in what pertains to our salvation? 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 pushed back that I might fall, but the Lord supported me. The Lord is my strength and my praise, and He has become my salvation." And "Unless the Lord had helped me, my soul had almost dwelt in hell. If I said, my foot is moved, Your mercy, O Lord, assisted me. According to the multitude of my sorrows in my heart, Your comforts have given joy to my soul." Seeing also that our heart is strengthened in the fear of the Lord and in patience, let us say, "And the Lord became my protector, and He brought me forth into a large place." And knowing that knowledge is increased by progress in work, let us say, "For You light my lamp, O Lord; O my God, enlighten my darkness, for by You I shall be delivered from temptation, and through my God I shall go over a wall." Then, feeling that we have ourselves sought courage and endurance and are being directed with greater ease and without labor 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 sets me up on high; who teaches my hands to war." And having also secured discretion, strengthened with which we can dash down our enemies, let us cry aloud to God, "Your discipline has set me up unto the end, and Your discipline the same shall teach me. You have enlarged my steps under me, and my feet are not weakened." And because I am thus strengthened with Your knowledge and power, I will boldly take up the words that 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." Again, mindful of our own weakness 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 You we will scatter our enemies, and through Your 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 You have saved us from them that afflict us and have put them to shame that hate us." But further, "You have guided me with strength unto the battle and have subdued under me them that rose up against me. And You have made my enemies turn their backs upon me and have destroyed them that hated me." 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 your salvation. And You have made my arms like a brazen bow. And You have given me the protection of Your salvation, and Your right hand has held me up. For our fathers got not the possession of the land through their own sword; neither did their own arm save them, but Your right hand and Your arm and the light of Your countenance because You were pleased with them." Finally, 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 You, 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 my enemies."

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 my own self do nothing, but the Father which abides in me, He does the works. He says, speaking in the human nature which He had taken, that He could do nothing of Himself; and shall we, who are dust and ashes, think that we have no need of God's help in what pertains to our salvation? And so let us learn in everything, as we feel our own weakness, and at the same time His help, to declare with the saints, I was overturned that I might fall, but the Lord supported me. The Lord is my strength and my praise: and He has become my salvation. And Unless the Lord had helped me, my soul had almost dwelt in hell. If I said, My foot is moved: Your mercy, O Lord, assisted me. According to the multitude of my sorrows in my heart, Your comforts have given joy to my soul. Seeing also that our heart is strengthened in the fear of the Lord, and in patience, let us say: And the Lord became my protector; and He brought me forth into a large place. And knowing that knowledge is increased by progress in work, let us say: For you light my lamp, O Lord: O my God, enlighten my darkness, for by You 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 sets me up on high: who teaches my hands to war. And having also secured discretion, strengthened with which we can dash down our enemies, let us cry aloud to God: Your discipline has set me up unto the end, and Your discipline the same shall teach me. You have enlarged my steps under me, and my feet are not weakened. And because I am thus strengthened with Your 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. 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 You we will scatter our enemies: and through Your 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 You have saved us from them that afflict us: and hast put them to shame that hate us. But further: You have guided me with strength unto the battle, and hast subdued under me them that rose up against me. And You have made mine enemies turn their backs upon me, and hast destroyed them that hated me. 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 your salvation. And You have made my arms like a brazen bow. And You have given me the protection of Your salvation: and Your right hand has held me up. For our fathers got not the possession of the land through their own sword; neither did their own arm save them: but Your right hand and Your arm and the light of Your countenance because You were pleased with them. Lastly, as with anxious mind we regard all His benefits with thankfulness, let us cry to Him with the inmost feelings of our heart, for all these things, because we have fought, and have 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 You, 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.

How we are protected by the grace of God not only in our natural condition, but also by His daily providence.

How we are protected by the grace of God not only in our natural condition, but also by His daily Providence.

Not only do we give thanks to Him because He has created us as reasonable beings and given us the power of free will, and blessed us with the grace of baptism, and granted us the knowledge and help of the law, but also for these things that are given to us by His daily providence: that He delivers us from the schemes 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 He gives us (which some claim is what is meant by the law); that when we are secretly struck with remorse for our sins and failures through His influence, He attends to us with His care and disciplines us for the health of our soul; that even against our will we are sometimes drawn by Him to salvation; and finally that this very free will of ours, which is more readily inclined to sin, is turned by Him toward a better purpose and, by His prompting and suggestion, bent toward the way of virtue.

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); 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.

How this faith concerning the grace of God was handed down to us by the ancient Fathers.

How this faith concerning the grace of God was delivered to us by the ancient Fathers.

This is the humility toward God and the genuine faith of the ancient fathers that still remains intact among their successors. The apostolic virtues they so often demonstrated bear undeniable witness to this faith, not only among us but also among unbelievers and infidels. Keeping in simplicity of heart the simple faith of the fishermen, they did not receive it in a worldly spirit through dialectical arguments or the eloquence of a Cicero, but learned it through the experience of a pure life, blameless actions, and the correction of their faults—or more truly, through visible proofs—that the character of perfection is found in that faith without which neither devotion toward God, nor cleansing from sin, nor amendment of life, nor perfection of virtue can be secured.

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 learned 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.

A person who was handed over to an extremely unclean spirit because of his blasphemy.

Of one who for his blasphemy was given over to a most unclean spirit.

I knew one of the brothers, whom I sincerely wish I had never known, since he later allowed himself to take on the responsibilities of my order. He confessed to a most admirable elder that he was attacked by a terrible sin of the flesh: he was inflamed with an intolerable lust, with the unnatural desire of suffering rather than committing a shameful act. Then the elder, like a true spiritual physician, immediately saw through the inward cause and origin of this evil. Sighing deeply, he said: The Lord would never have allowed you to be handed over to such a foul spirit unless you had blasphemed against Him. When this was revealed, the man 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, he confessed that he had blasphemed with evil thoughts against the Son of God. From this 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 an offense to Him from whom the gift of purity must be sought—is deprived of his uprightness and perfection, and does not deserve the sanctifying grace of chastity.

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: 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.

The example of Joash, King of Judah, demonstrates what resulted from his pride.

The instance of Joash, King of Judah, showing what was the consequence of his pride.

We read about something like this in the book of Chronicles. Joash, king of Judah, was called to the kingdom at age seven by Jehoiada the priest, and Scripture commends all his actions as long as this priest was alive. But listen to what Scripture says about him after Jehoiada's death, and how he became puffed up with pride and fell into a most disgraceful condition. "But after the death of Jehoiada the princes went in and worshipped the king, and he was soothed by their services and listened to 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 had passed, 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 in Damascus. And whereas there came a very small number of 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." You see how the result of pride was that he was handed over to shocking and filthy passions. For he who is puffed up with pride and has allowed 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 appropriate. And because, as Scripture says, everyone who exalts his heart is unclean before God, he who is puffed up with swelling pride of heart is given over to most shameful confusion to be deluded by it, so that when humbled in this way 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. Also, the shameful infection of the flesh may reveal the hidden impurity of the heart, which he contracted through the sin of pride, and through the obvious pollution of his body he may be proved to be impure, who did not previously see that he had become unclean through the pride of his spirit.

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 had 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. 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. And because, as Scripture says, every one who exalts his heart is unclean before God, 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.

Every proud soul is subject to spiritual wickedness and can be deceived by it.

That every proud soul is subject to spiritual wickedness to be deceived by it.

This clearly shows that every soul possessed by the swellings of pride is handed over to the Syrians of the soul—that is, to spiritual wickedness—and becomes entangled in the lusts of the flesh. This happens so that the soul, finally humbled by earthly faults and carnally polluted, may recognize its uncleanness, though while it stood upright in the coldness of its heart, it could not understand that through pride of heart it was rendered unclean in the sight of God. By this means, being humbled, a person may get rid of his former coldness, and being cast down and confused with the shame of his fleshly lusts, may from that point forward hasten to devote himself more eagerly to fervor and warmth of spirit.

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, 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.

How perfection can only be attained through the virtue of humility.

How perfection can only be attained through the virtue of humility.

And so it is clearly shown that no one can reach the goal of perfection and purity except through true humility. A person demonstrates this humility first to the brethren, and also shows it to God in his innermost heart, believing that without God's protection and help given to him at every moment, he cannot possibly obtain the perfection he desires and toward which he strives so eagerly.

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.

Who are attacked by spiritual pride and who by carnal pride.

Who are attacked by spiritual and who by carnal pride.

We have now said enough, to the best of our limited ability with God's help, about spiritual pride, which we said attacks advanced Christians. This kind of pride is not familiar to or experienced by most people, because the majority do not seek to attain perfect purity of heart and so never reach the stage where they face these struggles. Nor have they gained any purification from the earlier faults whose nature and remedies we have already explained in separate books. Rather, it usually attacks only those who have conquered the earlier faults and have nearly reached the summit of the virtues. Because our most cunning enemy has been unable to destroy them through a physical fall, he tries to cast them down and overthrow them by a spiritual disaster, attempting in this way to rob them of the rewards they earned through great effort in the past. But as for us, who are still trapped in earthly passions, he never bothers to tempt us in this way. Instead, he overthrows us by a coarser kind of pride, what I called carnal pride. Therefore I think it good, as I promised, to say a few things about this kind of pride by which we and people like us are usually affected, and by which the minds especially of younger people and beginners are put at risk.

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.

A description of carnal pride, and of the evils which it produces in the soul of a monk.

A description of carnal pride, and of the evils which it produces in the soul of a monk.

This carnal pride we spoke of, when it enters the heart of a monk who is lukewarm and has made a poor start in renouncing the world, does not allow him to lower himself from his former worldly arrogance to the true humility of Christ. First, it makes him disobedient and harsh. Then it prevents him from being gentle and kind. It does not allow him to be equal to his brothers and to share their way of life. Nor does it permit him to be stripped and deprived of his worldly possessions, as God and our Savior commands. Although renunciation of the world is nothing but the mark of mortification and the cross, and can only begin and grow from these foundations—that a person should recognize he is not merely spiritually dead to the deeds of this world, but also should realize daily that he must die in the body—this pride instead makes him hope for a long life, and puts before him many lengthy illnesses, and covers him with shame and confusion. If, having been 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 by his own means rather than by another's, according to that text (which, as was said before, those who are made dull through such stupidity and coldness of heart cannot possibly understand): It is more blessed to give than to receive. Acts 20:35

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 allow 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, those who are rendered dense through such dulness and coldness of heart, cannot possibly understand), It is more blessed to give than to receive. Acts 20:35

A person whose foundation is bad sinks daily from bad to worse.

That a man whose foundation is bad, sinks daily from bad to worse.

Those who are possessed by such distrust and who, through the devil's own lack of faith, fall away from that spark of faith by which they seemed in the early days of their conversion to be kindled, begin more anxiously to watch over the money they had previously started to give away, and hoard it with greater greed—as people who cannot recover what they have once wasted. Or, what is even worse, they take back what they had formerly given up. Or else, which is a third and most disgusting kind of sin, they collect what they never before possessed, and are thus shown to have gone no further in renouncing the world than merely taking the name and title of monk. With this beginning, then, and on this bad and rotten foundation, the whole structure of faults must inevitably rise, nor can anything be built on such evil foundations except what will bring the wretched soul to the ground in a hopeless collapse.

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.

A description of the faults that arise from the evil of pride.

A description of the faults which spring from the evil of pride.

A mind hardened by such feelings and gripped by this miserable coldness is certain to deteriorate daily and end its life in a more dreadful state. While it delights in its former desires and is overcome, as the apostle says, by impious greed (which he calls idolatry or idol worship, and elsewhere says "the love of money is the root of all evils"), it can never admit into the heart the true and genuine humility of Christ. Instead, the person boasts of his noble birth, is puffed up by his worldly status (which he has abandoned physically but not mentally), or takes pride in wealth that he keeps to his own destruction. Because of this, he is no longer willing to endure the discipline of the monastery or to be instructed by any of the elders. He not only refuses to observe any rule of submission or obedience but will not even listen to teaching about perfection. Such an aversion to spiritual conversation develops in his heart that if such a discussion should arise, he cannot keep his eyes fixed on one place. Instead, his gaze wanders blankly here and there, and his eyes shift constantly, as is typical. Instead of natural coughs, he spits from a dry throat, coughs deliberately without any need, drums his fingers, fidgets with them, scribbles as if writing, and fidgets with all his limbs so that while spiritual conversation is taking place, you would think he was sitting on thorns—very sharp ones—or in the midst of a swarm of worms. If the conversation turns simply to something beneficial for the listeners, he thinks it is directed specifically at him. Throughout the entire discussion of the spiritual life, he is preoccupied with his own suspicious thoughts. He is not watching for something to take away for his benefit but is anxiously wondering why anything is being said or quietly planning how he can raise objections to it, so that he cannot absorb any of the excellent points being made or benefit from them at all. The result is that the spiritual conference is not merely useless to him but actually harmful, becoming an occasion for greater sin. Because he feels convicted and imagines that everything is aimed at him, he hardens himself more stubbornly in his obstinacy and is more sharply affected by the stings of his anger. Later his voice becomes loud, his speech harsh, his responses bitter and noisy, his manner arrogant and erratic. His tongue is too ready, he is pushy in conversation and no friend to silence—except when he is harboring some bitterness against a brother in his heart. Then his silence indicates not compunction or humility but pride and anger, so that one can hardly say which is more objectionable in him: that unrestrained and boisterous merriment or this dreadful and deadly seriousness. In the former we see inappropriate chatter, light and frivolous laughter, unrestrained and undisciplined mirth. In the latter, a silence full of anger and deadly poison, arising simply from the desire to prolong as long as possible the bitter feelings nourished in silence against some brother, not from any wish to gain the virtues of humility and patience. And just as a person overcome by passion readily makes everyone else miserable and is ashamed to apologize to the brother he has wronged, so when the brother offers to apologize to him, he rejects it with contempt. Not only is he not moved or softened by his brother's overtures, but he is made even angrier because his brother surpasses him in humility. And that wholesome humiliation and apology, which usually puts an end to the devil's temptation, becomes for him an occasion for an even worse outburst.

The mind then that is hardened by such feelings, and which begins with this miserable coldness is sure to go daily from bad to worse and to conclude its life with a more hideous end: and while it takes delight in its former desires, and is overcome, as the apostle says, by impious avarice (as he says of it and covetousness, which is idolatry, or the worship of idols, and again the love of money, says he, is the root of all evils) can never admit into the heart the true and unfeigned humility of Christ, while the man boasts himself of his high birth, or is puffed up by his position in the world (which he has 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 there, 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 special 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. 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.

On the pride of a certain brother.

On the pride of a certain brother.

During my time in this region, I heard something that makes me shudder and feel ashamed even to mention: one of the younger brothers was reproved by his Abbot because he had shown signs of abandoning the humility he had practiced for only a short time when he renounced the world, and of being puffed up with diabolical pride. He responded with shocking impertinence: "Did I humiliate myself for a while just so I could remain in subjection forever?" At this reckless and wicked reply, the elder was completely stunned and could say nothing, as if he had received this answer from old Lucifer himself rather than from a man. He found it impossible to speak against such insolence, but could only let out sighs and groans from his heart. He silently turned over in his mind what is said of our Savior: Who being in the form of God humbled Himself and became obedient—not for a time, as this man said who was possessed by a diabolical spirit of pride, but even to death. Philippians 2:6, 8

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. Philippians 2:6, 8

The signs by which you can recognize the presence of carnal pride in a soul.

The signs by which you can recognize the presence of carnal pride in a soul.

To briefly summarize what has been said about this type of pride and to collect, as best we can, some of its signs—so that we might somehow convey to those thirsting for instruction in perfection an understanding of its characteristics through the movements of the outward man—I think it good to explain them in a few words. This way we can easily recognize the signs by which we can identify and detect it. When the roots of this passion are exposed and brought to the surface, seen and traced out with visible evidence, they can be more easily pulled up and avoided. For only then will this most destructive evil be completely escaped—not if we begin too late, when it has already gained control over us, to guard against its dangerous heat and harmful influence, but if we recognize its symptoms in advance and take precautions against it with wise and careful foresight. For, as we said before, you can tell a person's inner condition from his outward behavior. The carnal pride we spoke of earlier is shown by these signs: First, in conversation the man's voice is loud. In his silence there is bitterness. In his joy his laughter is noisy and excessive. When he is serious he is unreasonably gloomy. In his answers there is spite. He is too free with his tongue, his words tumbling out randomly without being weighed. He completely lacks patience and is without charity. He is bold in insulting others but weak-hearted in bearing insults himself. He is difficult when it comes to obedience, except where his own wishes and preferences align with his duty. He is resistant to receiving correction, weak in giving up his own desires, very stubborn about yielding to the desires of others. He is always trying to achieve his own goals and never ready to give them up for others. The result is that, though he is incapable of giving sound advice, he nevertheless prefers his own opinion to that of the elders in everything.

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.

When a person has become cold in spirit through pride, he desires to be placed in authority over others.

How when a man has grown cold through pride he wants to be put to rule other people.

And when a person mastered by pride has fallen through these stages of descent, he recoils at the discipline of the coenobium (community monastery), and—as if the companionship of the brothers hindered his perfection, and the sins of others impeded and interfered with his progress in patience and humility—he longs to live in a solitary cell, or is eager to build a monastery and gather others to teach and instruct, as if he would do good to many more people, and make himself from being a bad disciple into an even worse master. For when through this pride of heart a person has fallen into this most dangerous and harmful coldness, he can be neither a true monk nor a man of the world, and what is worse, he promises himself that he will gain perfection through this wretched state and way of life.

And when a man whom pride has mastered has fallen through these stages of descent, he shudders at the discipline of the cœnobium, 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.

How we can overcome pride and attain perfection.

How we can overcome pride and attain perfection.

Therefore, if we want the summit of our building to be perfect and to rise up pleasing to God, we should strive to lay its foundations not according to the desires of our own lust, but according to the rules of evangelical strictness. This foundation can only be the fear of God and humility, which come from kindness and simplicity of heart. But humility cannot possibly be acquired without giving up everything, and as long as a person 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 these things, our hearts cannot possibly be a dwelling place 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 accurately express the Hebrew: "To whom shall I have respect, but to him that is poor and little and of a contrite spirit and that trembles at My words?"

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 trembles at My words?

How pride, which is so destructive of all virtues, can itself be destroyed by true humility.

How pride which is so destructive of all virtues can itself be destroyed by true humility.

Therefore, the Christian athlete who competes lawfully in the spiritual struggle and desires to be crowned by the Lord should try by every means to destroy this most savage beast that destroys all virtues. He should know that as long as this remains in his heart, he will not only never be free from all kinds of evils, but even if he seems to have any good qualities, he will lose them through its evil influence. For no structure of virtue can possibly be built in our soul unless we first lay the foundations of true humility in our heart. Once these foundations are securely laid, they will be able to support the weight of perfection and love upon them. As we have said, we must first show our brothers true humility from the very bottom of our heart, never consenting to make them sad or to injure them. We cannot possibly do this unless true self-denial is planted in us by the love of Christ—self-denial that consists in stripping and depriving ourselves of all our possessions. Next, we must take up the yoke of obedience and submission with simplicity of heart, without any pretense, 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 someone who considers himself not only dead to this world, but also unwise and a fool, and who performs without any questioning whatever his elders command him, believing it to be divine and commanded from heaven.

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.

Remedies against the evil of pride.

Remedies against the evil of pride.

When people remain in this condition, there is no doubt that this quiet and secure state of humility will follow. We will consider ourselves inferior to everyone else and will bear everything that comes to us—even if it is hurtful, saddening, and damaging—with the utmost patience, as if it came from those who are our superiors. We will not only bear these things with the greatest ease, but we will consider them trifling and mere nothings if we constantly keep in mind the passion of our Lord and of all His saints. We should consider that the injuries we endure are so much less than theirs, just as we fall so far behind their merits and their lives. We should also remember that we will shortly depart from this world and soon, through a speedy end to our life here, become sharers in their lot. For considerations such as these are a sure way to end not only pride but all kinds of sins. Then, after this, we must keep a firm grasp of this same humility toward God. We must secure it so that we not only acknowledge that we cannot possibly accomplish anything connected with attaining perfect virtue without His assistance and grace, but also truly believe that the very fact that we can understand this is His own gift.

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.

How our seventh combat is against the spirit of vainglory, and what its nature is.

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 call vain or idle glory: a spirit that takes many forms and is changeable and subtle, so that it is difficult—I won't even say to guard against it—but even to see through it and discover it, even with the sharpest vision.

Our seventh combat is against the spirit of κενοδοξία, 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.

How vainglory attacks a monk not only on his carnal side, but also on his spiritual side.

How vainglory attacks a monk not only on his carnal, but also on his spiritual side.

For this vice does not attack a monk only on his carnal side, like his other faults, but on his spiritual side as well, working its way into his mind through craft and guile. Those who cannot be deceived by carnal vices are more seriously wounded through their spiritual progress, and this makes vainglory much worse to fight against, since it is harder to guard against. The attack of all other vices is more open and direct, and when the one who stirs them up meets a determined refusal, he goes away weaker, and the adversary who has been beaten will attack his victim with less strength the next time. But when this sickness attacks the mind through carnal pride and is pushed back by a defensive reply, it changes form like some evil that takes many shapes. It shifts its former appearance and character, and under the guise of the virtues, it tries to strike down and destroy its conqueror.

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.

How many forms and shapes vainglory takes.

How many forms and shapes vainglory takes.

While our other faults and passions can be said to be simpler and take only one form, this one takes many forms and shapes, constantly changing and attacking the person who resists it from every direction, assaulting its opponent on all sides. It tries to harm the soldier of Christ through his clothing, his behavior, his way of walking, his voice, his work, his vigils, his fasts, his prayers, his withdrawal from others, his reading, his knowledge, his silence, his obedience, his humility, his patience. Like a dangerous rock hidden beneath crashing waves, it causes an unexpected and disastrous shipwreck for those who are sailing along smoothly, precisely because they are not watching for it or protecting themselves against it.

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.

How vainglory attacks a monk from the right hand and from the left.

How vainglory attacks a monk on the right had and on the left.

Anyone who wishes to travel along the King's highway by means of the weapons of righteousness on the right hand and on the left must, following the Apostle's teaching, pass through honor and dishonor, bad reputation and good reputation. With the Spirit of the Lord breathing upon us and discretion guiding us like a rudder, we must steer our virtuous course through the surging waves of temptation with great care, knowing that if we veer even slightly to the right or left, we will immediately crash against extremely dangerous rocks. Solomon, the wisest of men, warns us: "Do not turn aside to the right hand or to the left." That is, do not congratulate yourself on your virtues and become inflated by your spiritual accomplishments on the right hand, nor by turning to the path of vices on the left hand, seek from them—to use the Apostle's words—glory in your shame. When the devil cannot create vainglory in a person through well-fitting and neat clothing, he attempts to introduce it through dirty, cheap, and neglected clothing. If he cannot bring a person down through honor, he overthrows him through humility. If he cannot make him proud through the gift of knowledge and eloquence, he drags him down by the burden of silence. If someone fasts publicly, he is attacked by the pride of vanity. If he hides it to avoid the glory of it, he is assaulted by the same sin of pride. To avoid being contaminated by the stains of vainglory, he avoids offering long prayers in the sight of the brothers; yet because he offers them secretly with no one aware of it, he still does not escape the pride of vanity.

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, 2 Corinthians 6:7-8 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; 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. Philippians 3:19 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.

A comparison that shows the nature of vainglory.

A comparison which shows the nature of vainglory.

Our elders provide an excellent description of the nature of this disease by comparing it to an onion, or to those bulbs where, when you peel off one layer, you discover another layer underneath. No matter how many times you peel them, you find they are still covered.

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.

That vainglory is not completely eliminated by the benefits of solitude.

That vainglory is not altogether got rid of by the advantages of solitude.

Even in solitude, vainglory does not stop pursuing the person who has fled from all human contact for the sake of glory. The more completely someone has abandoned the whole world, the more fiercely it chases him. It tries to puff up one person with pride over his great capacity for work and labor, another over his exceptional obedience, another because he surpasses other men in humility. One man is tempted through the breadth of his knowledge, another through the extent of his reading, another through the length of his vigils. This sickness only attempts to wound a person through his virtues, introducing obstacles that lead to death by means of the very things through which the resources for life are sought. For when people are eager to walk in the path of holiness and perfection, the enemies do not set their traps to deceive them anywhere except on the very path where they walk, in keeping with the saying of the blessed David: In the way wherein I walked have they laid a snare for me. In this very path of virtue along which we are walking, as we press on toward the prize of our high calling (Philippians 3:14), we may become elated by our successes and consequently sink down and fall with the feet of our soul entangled and caught in the snares of vainglory. The result is that those of us who could not be defeated in the struggle with the enemy are overcome by the very greatness of our triumph, or else (which is another kind of deception) by pushing beyond the limits of the self-restraint that is possible for us, we fail to persevere in our course because of bodily weakness.

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; that in this very way of virtue along which we are walking, when pressing on to the prize of our high calling, Philippians 3:14 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.

How vainglory, when it has been defeated, rises up again more fiercely than before for the battle.

How vainglory, when it has been overcome, rises again keener than ever for the fight.

All vices, when overcome, grow weak, and when beaten are weakened day by day. They decrease with respect to both place and time, or at least, since they are unlike the virtues that oppose them, they are more easily avoided and shunned. But this vice, when beaten, rises again even more fiercely for the struggle. When we think it has been destroyed, it revives stronger through its very death. Other vices usually attack only those they have already defeated in battle, but this one pursues its victors even more aggressively. The more thoroughly it has been resisted, the more vigorously it attacks the person who is proud of his victory over it. Here lies the cunning craftiness of our adversary: where he cannot overcome Christ's soldier with the enemy's weapons, he strikes him down with his own spear.

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.

How vainglory is not reduced either in the desert or through advancing years.

How vainglory is not allayed either in the desert or through advancing years.

Other vices, as we said, are sometimes reduced by the advantages of location, and when the subject matter of the sin and the occasion and opportunity for it are removed, they weaken and diminish. But this one follows into the deserts the person who is fleeing from it, and it cannot be shut out from any place. Even when outward material for it is removed, it does not fail. For it is actually fueled by the virtuous achievements of the person it attacks. All other vices, as we said above, are sometimes diminished by the passage of time and disappear. But for this one, length of life—unless it is supported by skillful diligence and prudent discretion—is no obstacle, but actually supplies it with new fuel for vanity.

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.

That vainglory is more dangerous because it is mixed up with virtues.

That vainglory is the more dangerous through being mixed up with virtues.

Other passions are entirely different from the virtues that oppose them, and they attack us openly, as if in broad daylight. These are more easily overcome and guarded against. But vainglory is interwoven with our virtues and entangled in the struggle, fighting under cover of darkness at night. It deceives all the more dangerously those who are off their guard and not watching carefully.

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.

An example showing how King Hezekiah was brought down by the arrow of vainglory.

An instance showing how King Hezekiah was overthrown by the dart of vainglory.

We read that Hezekiah, King of Judah, was a man of complete righteousness in all things and approved by the testimony of Holy Scripture. Yet after countless commendations for his virtues, he was overthrown by a single dart of vainglory. This man who by a single prayer was able to bring about the death of one hundred eighty-five thousand soldiers from the Assyrian army, whom the angel destroyed in one night, was overcome by boasting and vanity. Setting aside the long list of his virtues, which would take too long to describe, I will mention just one thing. He was a man who, after the end of his life had been decreed and the day of his death determined by the Lord's sentence, succeeded through a single prayer in extending the limits set to his life by fifteen years. The sun went back ten steps on which it had already shone in its course toward setting, and by its return erased those lines which the shadow following its course had already marked, giving two days in one to the whole world through a tremendous miracle contrary to the fixed laws of nature. Yet after signs so great and so incredible, after such immense proofs of his goodness, listen to how Scripture tells us he was destroyed by his very successes. In those days, we are told, Hezekiah was sick to the point of death, and he prayed to the Lord, and He heard him and gave him a sign—the one we read about in the fourth book of the kingdoms, which was given through Isaiah the prophet by the going back of the sun. But, it says, he did not give back according to the benefits he had received, for his heart was lifted up, and wrath was kindled against him and against Judah and Jerusalem. He humbled himself afterward because his heart had been lifted up, both he and the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and therefore the wrath of the Lord did not come upon them in the days of Hezekiah. How dangerous, how terrible is the disease of vanity! So much goodness, so many virtues, faith and devotion great enough to change nature itself and the laws of the whole world, perish through a single act of pride! All his good deeds would have been forgotten as if they had never been, and he would immediately have been subject to the wrath of the Lord if he had not appeased Him by recovering his humility. He who had fallen from so great a height of excellence at the suggestion of pride could only climb back to the height he had lost by the same steps of humility. Do you want to see another instance of a similar downfall?

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. 2 Kings xx 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. 2 Chronicles 32:24-26 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?

The example of King Uzziah, who was afflicted by the same disease.

The instance of King Uzziah who was overcome by the taint of the same malady.

Of Uzziah, the ancestor of this king we have been discussing, who was also praised in every way by Scripture's testimony, learn how he was brought down by the pride of vainglory after receiving great commendation for his virtue and after countless victories that he won through the merit of his devotion and faith. We are told that Uzziah's name spread far and wide, for the Lord helped him and had strengthened him. But when he became strong, his heart was lifted up to his own destruction, and he neglected the Lord his God. 2 Chronicles 26:15-16 You see here another example of a most terrible fall, and you observe how two such upright and excellent men were destroyed by their very triumphs and victories. From this you can see how dangerous the successes of prosperity usually are, so that those who could not be harmed by adversity are ruined by prosperity, unless they are careful; and those who escaped the danger of death in the conflict of battle fall before their own trophies and triumphs.

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. 2 Chronicles 26:15-16 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.

Several testimonies against vainglory.

Several testimonies against vainglory.

The Apostle warns us: Do not desire vainglory. And the Lord, rebuking the Pharisees, says, How can you believe, when you accept glory from one another and do not seek the glory that comes from God alone? The blessed David also speaks of these people with a threat: For God has scattered the bones of those who please men.

And so the Apostle warns us: Be not desirous of vainglory. Galatians 5:26 And the Lord, rebuking the Pharisees, says, How can you believe, who receive glory from one another, and seek not the glory which comes from God alone? John 5:44 Of these too the blessed David speaks with a threat: For God has scattered the bones of them that please men.

The ways in which vainglory attacks a monk.

Of the ways in which vainglory attacks a monk.

In the case of beginners and those who have made only a little progress in either mental abilities or knowledge, vainglory usually puffs up their minds for various reasons: perhaps because of the quality of their voice or their ability to sing well, or because their bodies are thin, or because they have a good appearance, or because they have wealthy and noble relatives, or because they have rejected military service and positions of honor. Sometimes it persuades a person that if he had stayed in the world, he would easily have gained honors and riches—things that perhaps could never actually have been obtained—and it inflates him with empty hope for uncertain things. And regarding things he never possessed, it fills him with pride and vanity, as though he were someone who had actually despised them.

In the case also of beginners and of those who have as yet made but little progress either in powers of mind or in knowledge it usually puffs up their minds, either because of the quality of their voice because they can sing well, or because their bodies are emaciated, or because they are of a good figure, or because they have rich and noble kinsfolk, or because they have despised a military life and honours. Sometimes too it persuades a man that if he had remained in the world he would easily have obtained honours and riches, which 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.

How it suggests that a man may seek to take holy orders.

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 suggests that if a man receives this office, even against his will, he will fulfill it with such holiness 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 way of life, but also by his teaching and preaching. It makes a man, even when alone and sitting in his cell, to go around in mind and imagination to the dwellings and monasteries of others, and to make many conversions under the influence of imaginary exultation.

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.

How vainglory intoxicates the mind.

Vainglory intoxicates the mind in such a way that it makes a person appear to himself as if he were something great, even when he is nothing. It puffs up the soul with empty pride and causes it to be filled with foolish presumption. Through various forms of imagination, it leads the mind to believe that it possesses virtues which it does not actually have, and to think that it has already attained perfection in holiness, when in reality it has barely begun to make progress in the spiritual life.

How vainglory intoxicates the mind.

The miserable soul is affected by such vanity—as if deluded by a deep sleep—that it is often carried away by the pleasure of such thoughts and filled with such imaginations, so that it cannot even look at present realities or at the brethren. Instead, it enjoys dwelling on these things, which it dreams about while awake through its wandering thoughts, as if they were true.

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.

About a monk whom the superior discovered in his cell, deceived by empty vainglory.

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 visit a certain brother at his cell. When he reached the door, he heard him muttering inside and stood still for a moment, wanting to know whether he was reading from the Bible or reciting something from memory (as is the custom) while working. This excellent eavesdropper carefully listened with some curiosity and discovered that the man, under the influence of this spirit, was imagining himself delivering a stirring sermon to the people. The elder stood there and heard him finish his discourse, then return to his liturgical duties and announce the dismissal of the catechumens, just as the deacon does. Only then did he knock at the door. The man came out, greeted the elder with the usual reverence, and brought him inside. Because he was uneasy, knowing what his thoughts had been, he asked when the elder had arrived, fearing he might have been harmed by standing too long at the door. The old man replied pleasantly with a joke: I only got here while you were announcing the dismissal of the catechumens.

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, 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.

How faults cannot be cured unless their roots and causes have been discovered.

How faults cannot be cured unless their roots and causes have been discovered.

I thought it important to include these things in this small work of mine so that we might learn—not only through reason but also through examples—about the power of temptations and the sequence of sins that harm an unfortunate soul. In this way we might be more careful in avoiding the traps and varied deceptions of the enemy. The Egyptian fathers present these matters without distinction so that by describing them as people who are still experiencing them, they might reveal and expose the battles against all the vices—both those they actually suffer and those the younger monks are certain to suffer. When they explain the deceptions that arise from all the passions, those who are just beginners and eager in spirit can understand the hidden nature of their struggles. Seeing these struggles as if in a mirror, they can learn both the causes of the sins that trouble them and the remedies for those sins. Instructed beforehand about the approach of future struggles, they can be taught how to guard against them, how to face them, and how to fight against them. Just as skilled physicians are accustomed not only to heal diseases that already exist but also through wise skill to prevent future ones and to ward them off through their prescriptions and healing medicines, so these true physicians of the soul, through spiritual teachings, use what is like a heavenly antidote to destroy beforehand those diseases of the soul that would otherwise develop. They do not allow these diseases to take hold in the minds of the younger monks, as they explain to them the causes of the passions that threaten them and the remedies that will heal them.

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.

How a monk should avoid women and bishops.

How a monk ought to avoid women and bishops.

Therefore this is an ancient maxim of the Fathers that is still in use—though I cannot repeat it without shame on my own part, since I could not avoid my own sister or escape the hands of the bishop—namely, that a monk ought by all means to flee from women and bishops. For neither of them will allow someone who has once been drawn into close association 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.

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.

Remedies by which we can overcome vainglory.

Remedies by which we can overcome vainglory.

The athlete of Christ who wishes to strive lawfully in this true and spiritual combat should strive by every means to overcome this changeable monster of many shapes. Since it attacks us on every side like some manifold wickedness, we can escape it by this remedy: thinking on that saying of David: "The Lord has scattered the bones of those who please men." 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 something well, we should work to maintain it with just the same care, lest the disease of vainglory creep in afterward and make void all the fruit of our labors. And anything that is of very little use or value in the common life of the brothers, we should avoid as leading to boasting. Whatever would make us stand out among the others, and for which we would gain credit among people as if we were the only ones who could do it, we should shun. These signs show that the deadly taint of vainglory clings to us. We will most easily escape it if we consider that we will not merely lose the fruit of those labors of ours which we have performed at the suggestion of vainglory, but that we will also be guilty of a great sin and, as impious persons, undergo eternal punishments. This is because we have wronged God by doing for the favor of people what we ought to have done for His sake, and are convicted by Him who knows all secrets of having preferred people to God, and the praise of the world to the praise of the Lord.

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 has scattered the bones of those who please men. 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 among 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.

How our sixth combat is against the spirit of accidie (spiritual listlessness), and what its character is.

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 similar to dejection, and is especially trying to those who live alone, and a dangerous and frequent enemy to those who dwell in the desert. It particularly disturbs a monk around the sixth hour, like a fever that strikes him at fixed times, bringing the burning heat of its attacks on the sick person at customary and regular hours. Finally, there are some of the elders who declare that this is the midday demon spoken of in the ninetieth Psalm.

Our sixth combat is with what the Greeks call ἀκηδία, 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.

A description of accidie, and the way in which it creeps over the heart of a monk, and the harm it inflicts on the soul.

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.

When accidie takes hold of an unfortunate soul, it creates a dislike for the place, disgust with the cell, and disdain and contempt for the brothers who live with him or nearby, as if they were careless or unspiritual. It also makes the person lazy and sluggish about all kinds of work that needs to be done within his living quarters. It does not let him stay in his cell or put any effort into reading, and he often groans that he can do nothing good while he stays there. He complains and sighs that he can produce no spiritual fruit as long as he remains with that community, and he complains that he is cut off from spiritual progress and is useless in that place, as if he were someone who could lead others and benefit many people, yet is building up no one and helping no one through his teaching and instruction. He praises distant monasteries and those that are far away, describing such places as more beneficial and better suited for salvation. Beyond this, he portrays the fellowship with the brothers there as sweet and full of spiritual life. On the other hand, he says that everything around him is difficult, and not only is there nothing edifying among the brothers who are staying there, but even bodily food cannot be obtained without great trouble. Finally, he imagines that he will never be well while he stays in that place, unless he leaves his cell (in which he is certain to die if he remains any longer) and gets away from there as quickly as possible. Then around noon he experiences such physical weariness and hunger that he feels exhausted and worn out as if from a long journey or some very heavy work, or as if he had gone without food for two or three days of fasting. Then in addition to this, he looks around anxiously in every direction and sighs that none of the brothers come to visit him. He often goes in and out of his cell and frequently stares up at the sun, as if it is setting too slowly. And so a kind of irrational confusion of mind takes hold of him like some foul darkness, making him idle and useless for every spiritual work, so that he imagines no cure for such a terrible attack can be found in anything except visiting one of the brothers or in the comfort of sleep alone. Then the disease suggests that he should show courteous and friendly hospitality to the brothers and pay visits to the sick, whether nearby or far away. He also talks about certain dutiful and religious obligations: that relatives ought to be checked on, and that he should go see them more often; that it would be a genuine work of piety to visit more frequently that religious woman devoted to God's service who has no family support; and that it would be most excellent to obtain what is necessary for her since she is neglected and despised by her own relatives; and that he should devote his time piously to these things instead of remaining uselessly and unprofitably in his cell.

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 allow 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, 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.

On the different ways in which accidie overcomes a monk.

Of the different ways in which accidie overcomes a monk.

The wretched soul, troubled by these schemes of the enemy, is disturbed until—worn down by the spirit of accidie like a powerful battering ram—it either gives in to sleep or is driven from its cell and seeks relief by visiting another brother. But this supposed remedy only weakens the soul further. The enemy will attack more often and more fiercely someone who flees as soon as the battle begins, someone who looks for safety not in victory or fighting but in running away. Gradually the monk is drawn away from his cell and begins to forget the purpose of his calling, which is simply meditation and contemplation of that divine purity which surpasses all things and can only be attained through silence, staying constantly in the cell, and through meditation. In this way, the soldier of Christ becomes a deserter from His service and gets entangled in worldly affairs, failing to please the one to whom he pledged himself.

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. 2 Timothy 2:4

How accidie hinders the mind from all contemplation of the virtues.

How accidie hinders the mind from all contemplation of the virtues.

All the problems caused by this disease are perfectly described by David in a single verse, where he says, "My soul slept from weariness"—that is, from accidie. He rightly says that his soul slept, not his body. For truly, the soul that is wounded by the arrow of this passion does sleep when it comes to all contemplation of the virtues and understanding through the spiritual senses.

All the inconveniences of this disease are admirably expressed by David in a single verse, where he says, My soul slept from weariness, that is, from accidie. Quite 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.

How the Attack of Accidie is Twofold.

How the attack of accidie is twofold.

The true Christian athlete who wants to compete lawfully in the pursuit of perfection should hurry to drive out this disease from the depths of his soul. He should fight against this most evil spirit of accidie in both ways, so that he neither falls down struck by the arrow of laziness, nor gets driven out from the monastery, even if it happens under some supposedly pious reason or excuse, and leaves as a deserter.

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.

How harmful are the effects of accidie.

How injurious are the effects of accidie.

When this vice begins to gain control over someone, it either makes him remain idle and inactive in his cell without making any spiritual progress, or it drives him out and makes him restless, wandering, and lazy in every kind of work. It makes him constantly go around visiting the cells of the brothers and the monasteries, with only one goal: figuring out where or by what excuse he can immediately get something to eat. The mind of an idle person can think of nothing but food and the stomach, until he finds the company of some man or woman who is equally spiritually cold and indifferent. Then he becomes absorbed in their concerns and activities, and gradually becomes trapped by dangerous occupations. Just as if he were caught in a serpent's coils, he can never free himself again and return to the perfection of his former calling.

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.

Testimonies from the Apostle concerning the spirit of accidie.

Testimonies from the Apostle concerning the spirit of accidie.

The blessed Apostle, like a true and spiritual physician, either seeing this disease that 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 with the healing medicines of his instructions. When writing to the Thessalonians, he first applies, like a skilled and excellent physician, the soothing and gentle remedy of his words to the infirmity of his patients. He begins with charity and praises them on that point, so that this deadly wound, having been treated with a milder remedy, might lose its angry festering and more easily bear severer treatment. He says: "But concerning brotherly charity you have no need that I write to you, for you yourselves are taught of God to love one another. For this you do toward all the brethren in the whole of Macedonia" (1 Thessalonians 4:9-10). 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 that he might find them not yet prepared to receive their complete cure. Why is it that you ask, O Apostle, that they may abound more in charity, when 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 since 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 fulfill in deed what they are taught. "For you do this," he says, not to one or two, but to all the brethren, and not only to your own citizens and friends, 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 what he was driving at before: "and that you 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." Look, we can see through that hesitation, which made him with these preliminaries put off uttering what his mind was full of: "And that you take pains to be quiet"—that is, that you remain in your cells and not be disturbed by rumors, which generally spring from the wishes and gossip of idle persons, and so disturb others yourselves. "And to do your own business"—you should not want to inquire curiously into 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 criticizing your brethren. "And work with your own hands, as we charged you"—to secure what he had warned them above not to do. That is, 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 idleness is the reason why those things were done which he blamed above. For no one can be restless or anxious about other people's affairs except one who is not satisfied to apply himself to the work of his own hands. He adds also a fourth evil that springs from this idleness: that they should not walk dishonestly, when he says, "And that you walk honestly towards those without." He cannot possibly walk honestly, even among those who are people of this world, who is not content to cling to the seclusion of his cell and the work of his own hands. Rather, he is sure to be dishonest while he seeks his necessary food, and to take pains to flatter, to follow up news and gossip, to seek 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 possessions, who does not care to secure enough for his daily food by the dutiful and peaceful labor of his hands. You see what conditions, and how serious and shameful ones, spring solely from the malady of idleness. Finally, those very people whom in his first letter he had treated with the gentle application of his words, in his second letter he endeavors to heal with severer and sterner remedies, as those who had not profited by more gentle treatment. He no longer applies the treatment of gentle words, no mild and kindly expressions like these: "But we ask you, brethren," but "We adjure you, brethren, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you withdraw from every brother that walks disorderly" (2 Thessalonians 3:6). 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 invocation of the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, for fear that they might again scorn it as merely man's word and think that it was not of much importance. And immediately, 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 you withdraw yourselves from every brother that walks disorderly, and not according to the tradition which you received of us." And so he commands them to withdraw from those who will not make time for work, and to cut them off like limbs tainted with the festering sores of idleness, 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 the start. 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 instruction, and dishonest—that is, not keeping to the right and proper times for going out, 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 sense rebellious and despisers, who scorned to keep the tradition they had received from him and would not follow what they not only remembered that the teacher had taught in word, but which they knew that he had performed in deed. "For you yourselves know how you ought to be followers of us." He heaps up an immense pile of censure when he asserts that they did not observe what 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.

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 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 you 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. 1 Thessalonians 4:9-10 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 you 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 you 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 you 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 you 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 you withdraw from every brother that walks disorderly. 2 Thessalonians 3:6 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 immediately, 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 you withdraw yourselves from every brother that walks disorderly, and not according to the tradition which you 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 you 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.

Someone who refuses to be satisfied with what they have made with their own hands is certain to be restless.

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 nothing. With each statement the teacher of the Gentiles advances a step further in his rebuke. The preacher of the gospel says that he has not eaten anyone's bread for nothing, since he knows that the Lord commanded that those who preach the gospel should live from the gospel, and again, The laborer is worthy of his food. So if he who preached the gospel, performing such a lofty and spiritual work, did not dare—even relying on the Lord's command—to eat his bread for nothing, what shall we do, to whom not only is no preaching of the word entrusted, but no care of souls except our own is committed? With what confidence shall we dare with idle hands to eat our bread for nothing, when the chosen vessel, driven by his concern for the gospel and his work of preaching, did not dare to eat without laboring with his own hands? But in labor, he says, and weariness, working night and day lest we should be burdensome to any of you. Up to this point he amplifies and adds to his rebuke. For he did not simply say, We did not eat bread for nothing from any of you, and then stop. For it might have been thought that he was supported by his own private resources, by money he had saved, or by other people's means, though not by their collections and gifts. But in labor, he says, and weariness, working night and day—that is, being specifically supported by our own labor. And we did this, he says, not by our own choice and for our own pleasure, as rest and physical exercise might suggest, but as our necessities and the lack of food compelled us to do, and that not without great physical weariness. For not only throughout the whole day, but also by night, which seems to be granted for bodily rest, I was continually working with my hands, driven by my need for food.

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. 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: 1 Corinthians 9:14 again, The labourer is worthy of his meat. Matthew 10:10 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 entrusted, 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. 2 Thessalonians 3:8 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.

Not only the Apostle, but also the two who were with him labored with their own hands.

That not the Apostle only, but those two who were with him laboured with their own hands.

Paul testifies that he was not the only one who lived this way among them, in case this approach might not seem significant or applicable to everyone if it relied only on his own example. Instead, he makes clear that all those who were appointed with him for the ministry of the gospel—that is, Silvanus and Timothy, who wrote this letter with him—worked in the same manner. For by saying "lest we should be burdensome to any of you," he brings great shame upon them. For if Paul, who preached the gospel and confirmed it through signs and mighty works, did not dare to eat bread without cost, lest he should be burdensome to anyone, how can those people avoid recognizing that they are burdensome when they receive it every day while idle and at their leisure?

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?

The Apostle labored with his own hands for this reason: so that he might set an example of work for us.

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 as a pattern to you to imitate us. He reveals the reason why he imposed such labor on himself: that we might, he says, give a pattern to you to imitate us, so 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 memory the example of my way of life given to you by what you saw with your own eyes. There is also here no small rebuke of them, where he says that he has gone through this labor 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 sake he, although not obliged to do it, still 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 possessions, and I knew that I had the permission of our Lord to use them, yet I did not use this power, lest what was rightly and lawfully done on my part might set an example of dangerous idleness to others. And therefore when preaching the gospel, I preferred to be supported by my own hands and work, so 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.

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 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.

That he preached and taught people to work not only by his example, but also by his words.

That he preached and taught men to work not only by his example, but also by his words.

But in case anyone might think that, while he worked in silence and tried to teach them by example, he had not instructed them through commands and warnings, he goes on to say: For when we were with you, this we declared to you, that if a man will not work neither should he eat. He makes their idleness appear even greater, because although they knew that he, like a good master, worked with his hands for the sake of his teaching and in order to instruct them, they were still ashamed to imitate him. And he emphasizes our diligence and care by saying that he not only gave them this example when he was present, but that he also proclaimed it continually in words, saying that if anyone would not work, neither should he eat.

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.

Concerning his statement: If anyone is not willing to work, neither shall he eat.

Of his saying: If any will not work, neither shall he eat.

And now he no longer addresses them with the advice of a teacher or physician, but proceeds with the severity of a judicial sentence. Resuming his apostolic authority, he pronounces sentence on those who despise him as if from the judgment seat, with that power which he declared was given to him by the Lord when he wrote with threats to the Corinthians. He charged those caught in sin to hurry and change their lives before his arrival, saying: "I beg you that when I am present I may not have to be bold against some with that power which is given to me over you." And again: "For if I should boast somewhat of the power which the Lord has given me for building up and not for tearing down, I will not be ashamed." With that power, I say, he declares: "If a man will not work, neither let him eat." He is not punishing them with a physical sword, but by the power of the Holy Spirit he forbids them the goods of this life, so that if by chance they think little of the punishment of future death and remain stubborn through love of laziness, they may at last—forced by the demands of nature and the fear of immediate death—be compelled to obey his saving command.

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. 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.

Regarding his statement: We have heard that some among you walk disorderly.

Of his saying: We have heard that some among you walk disorderly.

Then after all this strict application of gospel discipline, he now reveals the reason why he brought up all these matters. For we have heard that some among you walk disorderly, working not at all, but curiously meddling. He is never content to speak of those who refuse to devote themselves to work as if they suffered from only a single problem. For in his first letter he describes them as disorderly and not walking according to the traditions they had received from him, and he also states that they were restless and ate their bread for nothing. Again he says here, We have heard that there are some among you who walk disorderly. And immediately he adds a second weakness, which is the root of this restlessness, saying, working not at all. He also adds a third problem, which grows from this last one like a shoot: but curiously meddling.

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 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.

How manual labor prevents many faults.

How manual labour prevents many faults.

And so he wastes no time in immediately applying a suitable remedy to the source of so many faults. Setting aside the apostolic authority he had just used a moment before, he takes on again the gentle character of a good father or a kind physician. As if they were his children or his patients, he applies remedies through his healing advice 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." He heals the cause of all these sores, which grow from the root of idleness, like a skilled physician with a single beneficial command to work. He knows that all the other harmful symptoms, which spring from the same source, will immediately disappear once the cause of the main disease has been removed.

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.

How kindness should be shown even to the idle and careless.

How kindness should be shown even to the idle and careless.

Nevertheless, like a far-sighted and careful physician, he is not only concerned with healing the wounds of the sick, but also gives proper instructions to those who are healthy, so their health may be continually preserved, and he says: But be not weary in well doing—you who follow us, that is, our ways, and copy the example we have given you by imitating us in our work, and do not follow their laziness and idleness. Do not be weary in well doing, meaning you should likewise show kindness toward them if they happen to have failed to observe what we said. Just as he was stern with those who were weak, for fear that being weakened by laziness they might give in to restlessness and excessive curiosity, so he urges those who are healthy not to hold back the kindness that the Lord's command requires us to show to both the good and the evil, even if some bad people will not turn to sound teaching. Nor should they stop doing good and encouraging them both through comforting words and through rebuke, as well as through ordinary kindness and courtesy.

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 weary in well doing: you 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, Matthew 5:43-45 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.

How we should correct those who do wrong, not from hatred, but from love.

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. He also teaches them, as if they were his children, what a brotherly disposition they should cultivate toward 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 he 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 tell them to do this from a wrong feeling of dislike, but from brotherly affection and out of concern for their correction. Do not keep company with him, he says, 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 someday begin to be restored to the way of salvation.

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.

Various passages where the Apostle declares that we ought to work, or where it is shown that he himself worked.

Different passages in which the Apostle declares that we ought to work, or in which it is shown that he himself worked.

In the letter to the Ephesians, Paul also gives instructions on this subject of work, saying: "The one who stole must steal no longer, but instead must work, doing good with his own hands, so that he may have something to share with anyone who is in need." And in the Acts of the Apostles we also find that he not only taught this but actually practiced it himself. When he came to Corinth, he chose to stay only with Aquila and Priscilla because they practiced the same trade that he himself was accustomed to practice. For we read: "After this, Paul left Athens and went to Corinth. There he found a Jew named Aquila, a native of Pontus, and his wife Priscilla. He went to them because they were of the same trade, and he stayed with them and worked, for they were tentmakers by trade."

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 suffers need. Ephesians 4:28 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. Acts 18:1-3

The Apostle did what he considered would be enough for himself and for the others who were with him.

That the Apostle wrought what he thought would be sufficient for him and for others who were with him.

Then, going to Miletus and sending from there to Ephesus and summoning the elders of the church of Ephesus to him, he instructed them how they ought to govern the church of God in his absence, and said: "I have not coveted anyone's silver and gold; you yourselves know how these hands have provided for such things as were necessary for me and those who are with me. I have shown you all things, how that by working in this way 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" (Acts 20:33-35). He left us a powerful example in his way of life, as he testifies that he not only worked to supply his own physical needs alone, but also worked enough to meet the needs of those who were with him—those, I mean, who were occupied with necessary duties and had no opportunity to obtain food for themselves with their own hands. And just 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 shown you all things, how that by working in this way you ought to support the weak," whether weak in mind or body; that is, we should be diligent in providing for their needs, not from the store of our surplus, or from money laid aside, or from another's generosity and resources, but rather by obtaining the necessary amount through our own labor and hard work.

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. Acts 20:33-35 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.

How we should understand these words: It is more blessed to give than to receive.

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 it is more blessed to give than to receive. That is, the generosity of the giver is more blessed than the need of the receiver, when the gift is not supplied from money that has been held back through unbelief or faithlessness, nor from the hoarded treasures of greed, but is produced from the fruits of our own labor and honest work. And so it is more blessed to give than to receive, because while the giver shares the poverty of the receiver, he is still diligent in providing with godly care through his own work, not merely enough for his own needs, but also what he can give to one in need; and so he is adorned with a double grace, since by giving away all his goods he secures the perfect self-denial of Christ, and yet by his labor and care displays the generosity of the rich; thus honoring God by his honest labors and gathering for Him the fruits of his righteousness, while another, weakened by laziness and idle sloth, 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 stubbornness.

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.

A lazy brother who tried to persuade others to leave the monastery.

Of a lazy brother who tried to persuade others to leave the monastery.

We know of a brother—we would give his name if it would serve any purpose—who remained in the monastery and was required to deliver his assigned daily work to the steward. Yet he feared being pushed toward a greater amount of work or being shamed by the example of someone working more diligently. Whenever he saw a new brother admitted to the monastery who, in his fervent faith, wanted to complete and sell a larger piece of work, he would try to stop him. If he couldn't discourage him through secret persuasion from carrying out his plan, he would use bad advice and whispering to convince him to leave the monastery. To get rid of him more easily, he would pretend that he too had been offended for many reasons and wanted to leave, if only he could find a traveling companion for support. Once he had secretly criticized the monastery enough to manipulate the brother into agreeing to leave, he would arrange with him the time to depart, the place to go beforehand, and where to wait for him. But he himself, pretending he would follow, stayed behind. When the other brother was too ashamed of his flight to dare return to the monastery he had abandoned, the wretched instigator of his flight remained in the monastery. It is enough to have given this single example of such men in order to warn beginners and to show clearly what evils idleness can produce in a monk's mind, as Scripture says, and how evil communications corrupt good manners. 1 Corinthians 15:33

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, can produce in the mind of a monk, and how evil communications corrupt good manners. 1 Corinthians 15:33

Different passages from the writings of Solomon against accidie.

Different passages from the writings of Solomon against accidie.

Solomon, the wisest of men, clearly points to this fault of idleness in many passages. He says: "He that follows idleness shall be filled with poverty" (Proverbs 28:19), either visible or invisible. An idle person entangled with different faults is sure to be involved in this poverty, 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 you were enriched in him, in all utterance and in all knowledge" (1 Corinthians 1:5). Concerning this poverty of the idle person, Solomon also writes elsewhere: "Every sluggard shall be clothed in torn garments and rags" (Proverbs 23:21). Certainly, anyone who is overpowered by lazy slumber or by accidie and prefers to be clothed not by his labor and hard work but in the rags of idleness will not deserve to be adorned with that garment of incorruption. Of this garment the Apostle says, "Put on the Lord Jesus Christ" (Romans 13:14), and again: "Being clothed in the breastplate of righteousness and charity" (1 Thessalonians 5:8). Concerning this the Lord Himself also speaks to Jerusalem through the prophet: "Arise, arise, O Jerusalem, put on the garments of your glory" (Isaiah 52:1). Such a person tears off these rags from the solid fabric and body of the Scriptures and fits them to his laziness, putting on no garment of glory and honor but a shameful cloak and excuse. Those who are affected by this laziness and do not want to support themselves by the labor of their own hands—as the Apostle continually did and commanded us to do—commonly use certain Scripture proofs to try to cover their idleness, saying it is written: "Labor not for the meat that perishes, but for that which remains to life eternal" (John 6:27), and "My meat is to do the will of my Father" (John 4:34). But these proofs are like rags from the solid fabric of the gospel, adopted 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. This is the garment that the wise woman in Proverbs, who was clothed with strength and beauty, is said to have made either for herself or for her husband, of which it is said: "Strength and beauty are her clothing, and she rejoices in the latter days" (Proverbs 31:25). Solomon mentions this evil of idleness again: "The ways of the idlers are strewn with thorns," that is, with these and similar faults which the Apostle declared spring from idleness. Again: "Every sluggard is always in want." The Apostle mentions these when he says, "And that you want nothing of any man's" (1 Thessalonians 4:11). Finally: "For idleness has been the teacher of many evils" (Sirach 33:29), which the Apostle clearly listed in the passage he explained above: "Working not at all, but curiously meddling." To this fault he also joins another: "And that you study to be quiet," and then, "that you should do your own business and walk honestly towards them that are without, and that you want nothing of any man's." He also identifies those who are disorderly and rebellious, and he commands those who are earnest to separate themselves from them: "That you withdraw yourselves," he says, "from every brother that walks disorderly and not according to the tradition which they received from us."

And Solomon, the wisest of men, clearly points to this fault of idleness in many passages, as he says: He that follows idleness shall be filled with poverty, Proverbs 28:19 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 you were enriched in him, in all utterance and in all knowledge. 1 Corinthians 1:5 But concerning this poverty of the idler elsewhere he also writes thus: Every sluggard shall be clothed in torn garments and rags. Proverbs 23:21 For certainly he will not merit to be adorned with that garment of incorruption (of which the Apostle says, Put on the Lord Jesus Christ, Romans 13:14 and again: Being clothed in the breastplate of righteousness and charity, 1 Thessalonians 5:8 concerning which the Lord Himself also speaks to Jerusalem by the prophet: Arise, arise, O Jerusalem, put on the garments of your glory), Isaiah 52:1 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 perishes, but for that which remains to life eternal; John 6:27 and My meat is to do the will of my Father. John 4:34 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. Proverbs 31:25 Of this evil of idleness Solomon thus makes mention again: The ways of the idlers are strewn with thorns; i.e., with these and similar faults, which the Apostle above declared to spring from idleness. And again: Every sluggard is always in want. And of these the Apostle makes mention when he says, And that you want nothing of any man's. 1 Thessalonians 4:11 And finally: For idleness has been the teacher of many evils: Sirach 33:29 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 you study to be quiet; and then, that you 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 you withdraw yourselves, says he, from every brother that walks disorderly and not according to the tradition which they received from us.

How the brothers in Egypt work with their hands, not only to provide for their own needs, but also to serve those who are in prison.

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. They evaluate the purpose of their hearts and their growth in patience and humility by their diligence in work. Not only do they not allow them to receive anything from another to supply their own needs, but further, they not only refresh pilgrims and fellow Christians who come to visit them through their labors, but actually gather an enormous store of provisions and food. They distribute it in the parts of Libya that suffer from famine and barrenness, and also in the cities, to those who are wasting away in the squalor of prison. They believe that by such an offering of the fruit of their hands they offer a reasonable and true sacrifice to the Lord.

And so taught by these examples the Fathers in Egypt never allow monks, and especially the younger ones, to be idle, estimating the purpose of their hearts and their growth in 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.

Idleness is the reason why there are no monasteries for monks in the West.

That idleness is the reason why there are not monasteries for monks in the West.

This is why we do not see monasteries with large numbers of brothers in these regions. They are not supported by the income from their own labor in a way that would allow them to stay there permanently. Even if, somehow, through someone else's generosity, there is enough provision to sustain them, still laziness and restlessness of heart prevent them from remaining long in that place. This is why the old fathers in Egypt passed down this saying: a monk who works is attacked by only one devil, but an idle monk is tormented by countless spirits.

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.

Abbot Paul, who every year burned with fire all the works of his hands.

Abbot Paul who every year burnt with fire all the works of his hands.

Lastly, Abbot Paul, one of the greatest of the Fathers, lived in a vast desert called the Porphyrian desert. He was sustained by date palms and a small garden, which gave him plenty to support himself and an ample supply of food. He could not find any other work to support himself, because his dwelling was separated from towns and inhabited areas by seven days' journey or more through the desert, and the cost of transporting goods would be more than the work would be worth. He collected palm leaves and regularly required himself to complete his daily task, as if he depended on it for his support. When his cave had been filled with a whole year's work, each year he would burn with fire what he had so diligently labored on. In this way he proved that without manual labor a monk cannot remain in a place or rise to the heights of perfection. Though the need for food did not require him to do this, he performed it simply for the sake of purifying his heart, strengthening his thoughts, persisting in his cell, and gaining a victory over accidie and driving it away.

Lastly, Abbot Paul, one of the greatest of the Fathers, while he was living in a vast desert which is called the Porphyrian desert, and being relieved from anxiety by the date palms and a small garden, had plenty to 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, 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.

The words of Abbot Moses that he spoke to me concerning the remedy for accidie.

The words of Abbot Moses which he said to me about the cure of accidie.

When I was beginning my stay in the desert, I told Abbot Moses, the chief of all the saints, that I had been terribly troubled the day before by an attack of accidie, and that I could only be freed from it by running immediately to Abbot Paul. He said to me, "You have not freed yourself from it, but rather have given yourself up to it as its slave and subject. From now on, the enemy will attack you more forcefully as a deserter and runaway, since it has seen that you fled immediately when you were overcome in the fight. Unless the next time you battle with it you make up your mind not to dispel its attacks and intensity for the moment by abandoning your cell or by the idleness of sleep, but rather learn to triumph over it by endurance and struggle." From this, experience proves that a fit of accidie should not be avoided by running away from it, but overcome by resisting it.

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.

Our fifth struggle is against the spirit of dejection, and the harm it causes to the soul.

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 must resist the attacks of gnawing dejection. If this vice, through separate attacks made at random and through haphazard and casual changes, manages to gain control of our mind, it holds us back at all times from every insight into divine contemplation and completely ruins and depresses the mind that has fallen away from its full state of purity. It does not allow us to say our prayers with our usual gladness of heart, nor does it permit us to rely on the comfort of reading the sacred writings, nor does it let us be quiet and gentle with the brethren. It makes us impatient and rough in all our duties of work and devotion. And when all wholesome counsel is lost and steadfastness of heart destroyed, it makes our feelings nearly mad and intoxicated, crushing and overwhelming them with punishing despair.

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.

We must carefully treat the illness of dejection.

Of the care with which the malady of dejection must be healed.

Therefore, if we want to engage properly in our spiritual battle, we must take just as much care to heal this sickness as well. For just as a moth damages clothing and a worm damages wood, so dejection damages the human heart. The Holy Spirit has expressed the power of this dangerous and extremely harmful fault with complete clarity and appropriateness.

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. With sufficient clearness and appropriateness has the Divine Spirit expressed the force of this dangerous and most injurious fault.

The soul that falls prey to the attacks of dejection may be compared to the following.

To what the soul may be compared which is a prey to the attacks of dejection.

For a garment that is moth-eaten no longer has any commercial value or useful purpose to which it can be put. Similarly, wood that is worm-eaten is no longer worth anything for decorating even an ordinary building, but is destined to be burned in the fire. In the same way, the soul that 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 assumes—first on Aaron's beard, then on his skirts—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." Nor can such a soul have anything to do with the building or decoration of that spiritual temple of which Paul, as a wise master builder, laid the foundations, saying: "You are the temple of God, and the Spirit of God dwells in you." What the beams of this temple are like, the bride tells us in the Song of Songs: "Our rafters are of cypress; the beams of our houses are of cedar." Therefore those kinds 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 being worm-eaten.

For the garment that is moth-eaten has no longer any commercial value or good use to which it can be put; and in the same way the wood that is worm-eaten is no longer worth anything for ornamenting even an ordinary building, but is destined to be burnt in the fire. So therefore the soul also which is a prey to the attacks of gnawing dejection will be useless for that priestly garment which, according to the prophecy of the holy David, the ointment of the Holy Spirit coming down from heaven, first on Aaron's beard, then on his skirts, is wont to assume: as it is said, It is like the ointment upon the head which ran down upon Aaron's beard, which ran down to the skirts of his clothing. Nor can it have anything to do with the building or ornamentation of that spiritual temple of which Paul as a wise master builder laid the foundations, saying, You are the temple of God, and the Spirit of God dwells in you: 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. 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.

From what source and in what manner does dejection arise.

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 person has discovered that he has failed in his hope of obtaining those things he had planned. But sometimes without any clear reason for our being driven to fall into this misfortune, we are by the scheming of our cunning enemy suddenly overcome with such great gloom that we cannot receive with normal courtesy the visits of those who are close and dear to us; and whatever topic of conversation they bring up, we regard it as poorly timed and inappropriate; and we cannot give them any courteous answer, since the bitterness of gall has taken possession of every part of our heart.

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.

Disturbances arise in us not from other people's faults, but from our own.

That disturbances are caused in us not by the faults of other people, but by our own.

Therefore it is clearly proven that the pains of disturbances are not always caused in us by other people's faults, but rather by our own, since we have stored up within ourselves the causes of offense and the seeds of faults. As soon as a shower of temptation waters our soul, these immediately burst forth into shoots and fruits.

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 offense, and the seeds of faults, which, as soon as a shower of temptation waters our soul, at once burst forth into shoots and fruits.

No one comes to ruin through a sudden fall, but rather is destroyed by falling through a long period of carelessness.

That no one comes to grief by a sudden fall, but is destroyed by falling through a long course of carelessness.

No one is ever driven to sin by being provoked through another person's fault unless he already has the fuel of evil stored up in his own heart. We should not imagine that a man has been deceived suddenly when he looks at a woman and falls into the abyss of shameful lust. Rather, the opportunity of looking at her has brought to the surface the symptoms of disease that were hidden and concealed in his inmost soul.

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.

We should not abandon fellowship with our brothers in order to pursue perfection, but should instead continually cultivate the virtue of patience.

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.

God, the creator of all things, cares above all about the correction of His own work. Since the roots and causes of our sins are found not in others but in ourselves, He commands that we should not give up fellowship with our brothers or avoid those we think we have hurt or who have offended us. Instead, He tells us to make peace with them, knowing that perfection of heart is not achieved by separating from people but by the virtue of patience. When patience is firmly established, it can keep us at peace even with those who hate peace. But if we have not acquired it, it makes us constantly quarrel with those who are more perfect and better than we are. As long as we are living among people, there will always be opportunities for conflict—the very reasons we want to get away from those we are connected to. Therefore, we will not escape these difficulties altogether, but will only exchange the causes of distress that made us leave our former friends for new ones.

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.

If we have improved our character, it is possible for us to get along with everyone.

That if we have improved our character it is possible for us to get on with everybody.

We must then do our best to try to correct our faults and improve our behavior. And if we succeed in correcting them, we will certainly be at peace—not only with other people, but even with wild animals and beasts—as it says in the book of blessed Job: "For the beasts of the field will be at peace with you" (Job 5:23). We will not fear offenses coming from outside, nor will any external occasion for falling trouble us, if we do not allow the roots of such things to be admitted and planted within ourselves. For "they have great peace who love your law, O God, and they have no occasion of falling."

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 you; Job 5:23 for we shall not fear offenses 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 your law, O God; and they have no occasion of falling.

Concerning another kind of dejection which produces despair of salvation.

Of another sort of dejection which produces despair of salvation.

There is also another even more harmful kind of dejection, which produces in the guilty soul no improvement in life or correction of sins, but the most destructive despair. This kind did not make Cain repent after murdering his brother, nor did it cause Judas after his betrayal to hurry to find relief by making things right, but instead drove him to hang himself in despair.

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.

On the one thing in which dejection is useful to us.

Of the only thing in which dejection is useful to us.

We must recognize that dejection is useful to us in only one case: when we yield to it either in repentance for sin, or when inflamed with the desire for perfection, or when contemplating future blessedness. About this the blessed Apostle says: The sorrow which is according to God works repentance steadfast unto salvation, but the sorrow of the world works death. 2 Corinthians 7:10

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 works repentance steadfast unto salvation: but the sorrow of the world works death. 2 Corinthians 7:10

How we can determine what is beneficial sorrow according to God, and what is devilish and deadly.

How we can decide what is useful and the sorrow according to God, and what is devilish and deadly.

But the dejection and sorrow that produces repentance steadfast unto salvation is obedient, respectful, humble, kind, gentle, and patient, because it springs from the love of God. It extends itself tirelessly from the desire for perfection to every bodily hardship and spiritual sorrow. Somehow it rejoices and feeds on the hope of its own benefit, preserving all the gentleness of courtesy and forbearance, as it contains in itself all the fruits of the Holy Spirit which the same Apostle lists: "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, goodness, benignity, faith, mildness, modesty" (Galatians 5:22-23). But the other kind is harsh, impatient, hard, full of bitterness and useless grief and destructive despair. It breaks down the person it has seized and prevents him from energy and wholesome sorrow, because it is unreasonable. It not only hinders the effectiveness of his prayers, but actually destroys all those fruits of the Spirit of which we spoke, which that other sorrow knows how to produce.

But that dejection and sorrow which works 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. Galatians 5:22-23 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.

Except for that beneficial sorrow which arises in three ways, all sorrow and dejection should be resisted as harmful.

That except that wholesome sorrow, which springs up in three ways, all sorrow and dejection should be resisted as hurtful.

Therefore, except for that sorrow which is endured either for the sake of saving penitence, or for the sake of striving for perfection, or for desire of the future, all sorrow and dejection must equally be resisted as belonging to this world and being that which brings death, and must be completely expelled from our hearts just like the spirit of fornication and covetousness and anger.

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 works death, and must be entirely expelled from our hearts like the spirit of fornication and covetousness and anger.

The ways by which we can uproot dejection from our hearts.

The means by which we can root out dejection from our hearts.

We should then be able to drive out this extremely harmful passion from our hearts so that through spiritual meditation we may keep our minds constantly focused on hope for the future and contemplation of the promised blessedness. In this way we will be able to overcome all kinds of dejection—whether those that come from earlier anger, or those that arise from disappointed hopes of gain or from some loss, or those that spring from a wrong done to us, or those that come from unreasonable disturbance of mind, or those that bring upon us a deadly despair—if, always joyful with insight into eternal and future realities and remaining steadfast, we are neither depressed by present troubles nor overly excited by prosperity, but view each condition as uncertain and likely to pass away soon.

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.

How our fourth conflict is against the sin of anger, and how many evils this passion produces.

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 must be completely rooted out from the deepest corners of our soul. For as long as this remains in our hearts and blinds the eye of the soul with its harmful darkness, we can neither acquire right judgment and discernment, nor gain the insight that comes from an honest gaze or maturity of counsel. We cannot be partakers of life or retain righteousness, or even have the capacity for spiritual and true light, for as one says, my eye is disturbed by reason of anger. We cannot become partakers of wisdom, even if everyone considers us wise, for anger rests in the bosom of fools. We cannot even attain immortal life, although everyone may think us prudent, for anger destroys even the prudent. We will not be able to secure the controlling power of righteousness with clear judgment of heart, even if everyone considers us perfect and holy, for the wrath of man works not the righteousness of God. We cannot by any means acquire the esteem and honor that is often seen even in worldly people, even if we are thought noble and honorable through the privileges of birth, because an angry man is dishonored. Nor can we secure any maturity of counsel, even if we appear to be serious and endowed with the greatest knowledge, because an angry man acts without counsel. Nor can we be free from dangerous disturbances or be without sin, even if no disturbances are brought upon us by others, because a passionate man engenders quarrels, but an angry man digs up sins.

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, my eye is disturbed by reason of anger. Nor can we become partakers of wisdom, even though we are considered wise by universal consent, for anger rests in the bosom of fools. Nor can we even attain immortal life, although we are accounted prudent in the opinion of everybody, for anger destroys even the prudent. Nor shall we be able with clear judgment of heart to secure the controlling power of righteousness, even though we are reckoned perfect and holy in the estimation of all men, for the wrath of man works not the righteousness of God. James 1:20 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. 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. 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.

Those who say that anger is not harmful claim this is the case when we are angry with people who do wrong, since God Himself is said to be angry.

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 destructive disease of the soul by attempting to minimize it through a rather disturbing interpretation of Scripture. They say that it is not harmful if we are angry with brothers who do wrong, since, they claim, God Himself is said to rage and be angry with those who either refuse to know Him or, knowing Him, reject Him. For example, they point to the passage: "And the anger of the Lord was kindled against His people," or where the prophet prays and says, "O Lord, rebuke me not in your anger, neither chasten me in your displeasure." They do not understand that while they want to provide people with an excuse for a most deadly sin, they are attributing to the Divine Infinity and Fountain of all purity the stain of human passion.

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; or where the prophet prays and says, O Lord, rebuke me not in your anger, neither chasten me in your displeasure; not understanding that, while they want to open to men an excuse for a most pestilent sin, they are ascribing to the Divine Infinity and Fountain of all purity a taint of human passion.

Concerning those things which are spoken about God in human terms.

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, crude sense, then He also sleeps, as it says, "Arise, why do you sleep, O Lord?"—though elsewhere it says of Him: "Behold, he who keeps Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep." And He stands and sits, since He says, "Heaven is my seat, and earth the footstool for my feet," though He measures out the heaven with his hand and holds the earth in his fist. And He is drunk with wine, as it says, "The Lord awoke like a sleeper, a mighty man, drunk with wine"—He who alone has immortality and dwells in the light which no one can approach—to say nothing of the ignorance and forgetfulness of which we often find mention in Holy Scripture, nor finally of the outline of His limbs, which are described as arranged and ordered like a man's: for example, hair, head, nostrils, eyes, face, hands, arms, fingers, belly, and feet. If we are willing to take all of these according to the bare literal sense, we must think of God as having the form and outline of limbs, and a bodily shape—which is shocking even to speak of and must be kept far from our thoughts.

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 do you sleep, O Lord? though it is elsewhere said of Him: Behold he that keeps Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep. And He stands and sits, since He says, Heaven is my seat, and earth the footstool for my feet: Isaiah 66:1 though He measure out the heaven with his hand, and holds the earth in his fist. Isaiah 40:12 And He is drunken with wine as it is said, The Lord awoke like a sleeper, a mighty man, drunken with wine; He who only has immortality and dwells in the light which no man can approach unto: 1 Timothy 6:16 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.

In what sense we should understand the emotions and human activities that are attributed to the unchanging and incorporeal God.

In what sense we should understand the passions and human arts which are ascribed to the unchanging and incorporeal God.

And so, just as we cannot understand these things literally of God—who by the authority of Holy Scripture is declared to be invisible, ineffable, incomprehensible, inestimable, simple, and uncompounded—without terrible profanity, neither can we attribute the passion of anger and wrath to that unchangeable nature without fearful blasphemy. 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 His utterances, which are continually poured by His mercy 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, so that nothing is hidden from Him—nothing we do, nothing we can do, not even what we think. 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, before all times, and excels all creatures? So then when we read of the anger or fury of the Lord, we should take it not ἀνθρωποπαθῶς (according to human passion)—that is, according to an unworthy meaning of human passion—but in a sense worthy of God, who is free from all passion. By this we should understand that He is the judge and avenger of all the unjust things 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 accustomed to fear those it knows to be indignant and is afraid of offending them, just as in the case of some very just judges, avenging wrath is usually feared by those who are tormented by some accusation of their conscience. Not that this passion exists in the minds of those who are going to judge with perfect equity, but while they fear in this way, the disposition of the judge towards them is that which precedes a just and impartial execution of the law. And this, however kindly and gently it may be conducted, is considered 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 to explain all the things 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, so that no one through ignorance may draw down upon himself a cause of this evil and of eternal death from those Scriptures in which he should seek saintliness and immortality as the remedies to bring life and salvation.

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 ἀνθρωποπαθῶς; i.e., according to an unworthy meaning of human passion, but in a sense worthy of God, who is free from all passion; so that by this we should understand that He is the judge and avenger of all the unjust things which are done in this world; and by reason of these 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.

How calm a monk ought to be.

How calm a monk ought to be.

A monk who aims at perfection and desires to fight lawfully in his spiritual combat should be free from all sin of anger and wrath, and should listen to the instruction that the chosen vessel gives him: "Let all anger, wrath, clamor, and evil speaking be taken away from among you, with all malice." When he says, "Let all anger be taken away from you," he makes no exception for any kind of anger as necessary or useful for us. And if it becomes necessary, he should immediately deal with a brother who has gone astray in such a way that, while he manages to apply a remedy to someone suffering from perhaps a slight fever, he does not by his own wrath involve himself in a more dangerous disease of blindness. For whoever wants to heal another's wound ought to be in good health and free from every trace of weakness himself, or else that saying of the gospel might be applied to him: "Physician, first heal yourself." He must not be like someone who sees a speck in his brother's eye but fails to see the beam in his own eye, for how will he see to remove the speck from his brother's eye when he has the beam of anger in his own eye?

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. Ephesians 4:31 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 yourself; Luke 4:23 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? Matthew 7:3-5

Concerning Righteous and Unrighteous Anger

There are two kinds of anger: one is righteous and the other is unrighteous. Righteous anger is a zeal without disturbance that acts against evil. This is the anger the Lord showed when He drove out those who were buying and selling in the temple, and when He cursed the fig tree. The saints also experience this kind of anger when they are stirred up against sin. Unrighteous anger, however, is a disturbance that seeks revenge. This kind is further divided into two types: one that quickly flares up and just as quickly subsides, which is called a fit of rage; and another that persists and becomes deeply rooted, which is called resentment or hatred. This latter type is worse because it harbors the memory of injury for a long time and waits for the right moment to take revenge, becoming an implacable enemy. This is the kind of anger we must completely reject.

Of the righteous and unrighteous passion of wrath.

From nearly every cause, the emotion of anger boils over and blinds the eyes of the soul. By bringing the deadly beam of a worse disease over the sharpness of our vision, it prevents us from seeing the sun of righteousness. It makes no difference whether gold plates, lead, or any other metal you choose are placed over our eyelids—the value of the metal makes no difference to our blindness.

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.

Of the only case in which anger is useful to us.

Of the only case in which anger is useful to us.

We must admit that we have one use for anger that has been excellently implanted in us, for which alone it is useful and profitable to allow it: when we are indignant and rage against the lustful emotions of our heart, and are troubled that things have arisen in the hidden places of our heart that we would be ashamed to do or say in front of other people—especially as we tremble before the presence of the angels and of God Himself, who fills all things everywhere, and as we fear with the greatest dread the eye of Him from whom the secrets of our hearts cannot possibly be hidden.

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.

Examples from the life of blessed David where anger was properly experienced.

Instances from the life of the blessed David in which anger was rightly felt.

This is certainly the case when we become agitated against anger itself because it has crept up on us against our brother, and when in our wrath we drive out its deadly impulses and do not allow it to have a dangerous hiding place in the inner chambers of our heart. That prophet teaches us to be angry in this way—the same one who had so completely driven anger from his own emotions that he would not take revenge even on his enemies whom God had delivered into his hands—when he says, "Be angry and sin not." For when he had desired water from the well of Bethlehem and his mighty men had given it to him, bringing it through the middle of the enemy armies, he immediately poured it out on the ground. In this way he angrily extinguished the pleasant feeling of his desire and poured it out to the Lord without satisfying the longing he had expressed, saying, "Far be it from me that I should do this! Shall I drink the blood of these men who went at the risk of their lives?" And when Shimei threw stones at King David and cursed him in his hearing before everyone, and Abishai the son of Zeruiah, the commander of the army, wanted to cut off his head and avenge the insult to the king, blessed David was moved with godly anger against this terrible suggestion of his. Maintaining the proper measure of humility and strict patience, he said with unshakable gentleness, "What have I to do with you, you sons of Zeruiah? Let him alone so he may curse. For the Lord has commanded him to curse David. And who is he who will dare to say, 'Why have you done this?' Look, my son who came from my own body seeks my life, and how much more this son of Benjamin? Let him alone so he may curse, according to the Lord's command. Perhaps the Lord will look upon my affliction and return good to me for this cursing today."

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 angry and sin not. For he, when he had longed for water from the well of Bethlehem, and had been given it by his mighty men, who had brought it through the midst of the hosts of the enemy, at once poured it out on the ground: and thus in his anger extinguished the delicious feeling of his desire, and poured it out to the Lord, without satisfying the 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? 2 Samuel 23:17 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, you sons of Zeruiah? Let him alone that he may curse. For the Lord has commanded him to curse David. And who is he who shall dare to say, Why have you 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 today. 2 Samuel 16:10-12

On the anger that should be directed against ourselves.

Of the anger which should be directed against ourselves.

Some people are commanded to be angry in a healthy way, but with ourselves and with the evil thoughts that arise in us, and not to sin—that is, by letting those thoughts lead to bad outcomes. The next verse makes this meaning clearer: "The things you say in your hearts, be sorry for them on your beds." In other words, whatever thoughts come to you when sudden and anxious impulses rush in, you should correct and fix them with healthy sorrow while lying in a bed of rest, removing all the noise and disturbance of anger through the calming influence of good judgment. Finally, when the blessed Apostle quoted this verse and said, "Be angry and sin not," he added, "Let not the sun go down upon your wrath, neither give place to the devil." If it is dangerous for the sun of righteousness to set on our anger, and if being angry immediately gives the devil a place in our hearts, then how can Paul command us to be angry by saying, "Be angry, and sin not"? Clearly he means this: be angry with your faults and your bad impulses, so that if you give in to them, Christ, the sun of righteousness, will not begin to set on your darkened minds because of your anger, and when He leaves, you will not make room for the devil in your hearts.

And some are commanded to be angry after a wholesome fashion, but with our own selves, and with evil thoughts that arise, and not to sin, viz., by bringing them to a bad issue. Finally, the next verse explains this to be the meaning more clearly: The things you say in your hearts, be sorry for them on your beds: i.e., whatever you think of in your hearts when sudden and nervous excitements rush in on you, correct and amend with 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 angry and sin not, added, Let not the sun go down upon your wrath, neither give place to the devil. Ephesians 4:26 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 angry, and sin not? Does he not evidently mean this: be 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?

Concerning the sun, about which it is said that it should not set upon your anger.

Of the sun, of which it is said that it should not go down upon your wrath.

God clearly refers to this sun through the prophet when He says, "But to those that fear my name the sun of righteousness shall arise with healing in His wings." And this sun is said to go down at midday on sinners, false prophets, and those who are angry, when the prophet says, "Their sun is gone down at noon." In any case, figuratively speaking, the mind—that is, the nous (reason)—which can rightly be called the sun because it surveys all the thoughts and discernments of the heart, should not be extinguished by the sin of anger. Otherwise, when it goes down, the shadows of disturbance, along with the devil who authors them, will fill all the feelings of our hearts. Overwhelmed by the shadows of wrath as if in a dark night, we will not know what we ought to do. It is in this sense that we have presented this passage from the Apostle, handed down to us by the teaching of the elders, because it was necessary, even at the risk of a somewhat lengthy discussion, to show how they understood anger. They do not permit it even for a moment to gain entrance into our heart, carefully observing that saying of the gospel: "Whosoever is angry with his brother is in danger of the judgment." But if it is lawful to be angry until sunset, the excess of our wrath and the vengeance of our anger will be able to give full expression to passion and dangerous agitation before that sun moves toward its setting.

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. Malachi 4:2 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. Amos 8:9 And at any rate tropically the mind, that is the νοῦς 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. Matthew 5:22 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.

Of those whose anger continues without limit, even beyond the setting of the sun.

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) whose unwillingness to forgive continues even beyond the setting of the sun? They prolong their anger for several days and feed bitter feelings against those who provoked them, yet they claim in words that they are not angry. However, in fact and action they show that they are extremely disturbed. They do not speak pleasantly to them or address them with ordinary courtesy, and they think they are doing nothing wrong in this because they are not seeking revenge for their distress. But since they either do not dare or are not able to show their anger openly and give vent to it, they drive the poison of anger inward to their own harm. They secretly harbor it in their hearts and silently nurture it within themselves, without shaking off their resentful attitude through mental effort. Instead, they digest it as days pass and somewhat lessen it after a while.

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.

This is how temper and anger reach their completion: when a person acts on them as fully as possible.

How this is the end of temper and anger when a man carries it into act as far as he can.

But it seems that even this is not the final outcome of revenge for everyone. Some people can only fully satisfy their anger or resentment if they carry out the impulse of anger as far as they are able. We know this is true of those who restrain their feelings, not because they want to calm them, but simply because they lack the opportunity for revenge. They can do nothing more to those with whom they are angry except speak to them without normal politeness. Or it appears as if anger is to be moderated only in our actions, and not to be completely rooted out from its hiding place in our hearts. As a result, overwhelmed by its darkness, we are unable not only to receive the light of wholesome counsel and knowledge, but also to be a temple of the Holy Spirit, as long as the spirit of anger lives in us. For anger that is nurtured in the heart, even though it may not harm people who are present, still shuts out the brilliance of the radiance of the Holy Spirit, just as much as anger that is openly expressed.

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.

That we should not hold on to our anger even for a single moment.

That we should not retain our anger even for an instant.

How can we think that the Lord would allow anger to be 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? He says, "If then you bring your gift to the altar and there remember that your brother has anything against you, leave there your gift at the altar and go your way; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift" (Matthew 5:23-24). How then can we retain displeasure against our brother—I will not say for several days, but even until the setting 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" (1 Thessalonians 5:17), and "in every place lifting up holy hands without wrath and disputing" (1 Timothy 2:8). It follows, then, that either we never pray at all, keeping this poison in our hearts, and become guilty of violating this apostolic and evangelical command in which we are told to pray everywhere and without ceasing; or else, if we deceive ourselves and dare to pour forth our prayers contrary to His command, we must know that we are offering to God not prayer, but an obstinate temper with a rebellious spirit.

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 you bring your gift to the altar and there rememberest that your brother has anything against you, leave there your gift at the altar and go your way; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift. Matthew 5:23-24 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; 1 Thessalonians 5:17 and in every place lifting up holy hands without wrath and disputing. 1 Timothy 2:8 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.

On Reconciliation with Our Brother

If we are offering our gift at the altar and remember that our brother has something against us, we must leave our gift there before the altar, go first to be reconciled with our brother, and then come back to offer our gift. For if we are still at odds with our brother, our gift cannot be acceptable to God. The Lord does not want our worship while we remain in conflict with our brother. He requires us first to be reconciled, and only then to return and offer our sacrifice. This shows that love and peace with our neighbor are more important to God than any offering we might bring to the altar. We cannot truly love God if we hate our brother, for John says that anyone who claims to love God but hates his brother is a liar. Therefore, we must quickly seek peace and reconciliation with anyone we have offended or who has been offended by us, so that our prayers and worship may be acceptable to God.

Of reconciliation with our brother.

And because we often reject our brothers who have been hurt and saddened, and dismiss them, claiming that they were not injured by any fault of ours, the Healer of souls, who knows all secrets, wanting to completely remove all occasions for anger from our hearts, not only commands us to forgive when we have been wronged and to be reconciled with our brothers, keeping no memory of wrongs or injuries against them, but He also gives a similar command: if we know that they have anything against us, whether justly or unjustly, we should leave our gift—that is, postpone our prayers—and hurry first to make things right with them. Then, once our brother's healing is accomplished, we may bring our prayers without fault. For the common Lord of all does not care so much about our worship that He would lose one person while gaining another by allowing displeasure to remain in us. For He suffers some loss in anyone's loss, since He desires and seeks the salvation of all His servants equally. Therefore our prayer will be ineffective if our brother has anything against us, just as much as if we were harboring feelings of bitterness against him in an angry and resentful spirit.

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.

How the Old Law would root out anger not only from actions but from thoughts.

How the Old Law would root out anger not only from the actions but from the thoughts.

But why should we spend more time on the precepts of the gospels and apostles when even the Old Law, which is thought to be somewhat lenient, guards against the same thing? It says, "You shall not hate your brother in your heart," and again, "Be not mindful of the injury of your citizens," and again, "The ways of those who preserve the recollection of wrongs are towards death." You see there too that wickedness is restrained not only in action but also in the secret thoughts, since it is commanded that hatred be utterly rooted out from the heart, and not merely retaliation for, but the very recollection of a wrong done.

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, You shall not hate your brother in your heart; and again, Be not mindful of the injury of your citizens; Leviticus 19:17-18 and again, The ways of those who preserve the recollection of wrongs are towards death? You see there too that wickedness is restrained not only in action, but also in the secret thoughts, since it is commanded that hatred be utterly rooted out from the heart, and not merely retaliation for, but the very recollection of, a wrong done.

How useless is the withdrawal of those who do not abandon their bad habits.

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 crude behavior, we complain that we need solitude, as if we would find the virtue of patience there where no one provokes us. We make excuses for our negligence and say that the cause of our agitation does not come from our own impatience, but from the faults of our brothers. And as long as we blame others for our fault, we will never be able to reach the goal of patience and perfection.

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.

The peace of our heart does not depend on another person's will, but is within our own control.

That the peace of our heart does not depend on another's will, but lies in our own control.

The most important part of our spiritual growth and inner peace must not depend on someone else's will, which can never be under our control, but rather lies within our own power. Therefore, the fact that we are not angry should not result from another person's perfection, but from our own virtue, which is gained not by someone else's patience, but by our own long-suffering.

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.

Concerning the eagerness with which we ought to pursue the desert, and the things in which we make progress there.

Of the zeal with which we should seek the desert, and of the things in which we make progress there.

Those who are perfect and purified from all faults ought to seek the desert. They should thoroughly eliminate all their faults while living among the community of brothers and sisters, and then enter the desert not as a cowardly escape, but for the purpose of divine contemplation and with the desire for deeper insight into heavenly things—insights that can only be gained in solitude by those who are perfect. Whatever faults we bring with us uncured into the desert will remain concealed within us and will not be eliminated. Just as solitude can reveal the purest contemplation to someone whose character has been improved and disclose knowledge of spiritual mysteries to their clear vision, it generally not only preserves but intensifies the faults of those who have undergone no correction. A person appears to himself to be patient and humble only as long as he encounters no one in daily interactions. But he will immediately revert to his former nature whenever any occasion for passion occurs. I mean that those faults which were lying hidden will immediately appear on the surface, and like unbridled horses carefully fed during too long a period of idleness, they will rush out from the starting gates all the more eagerly and fiercely, leading to their charioteer's destruction. When the opportunity to practice our faults among other people is removed, they will increasingly grow within us unless we have first been purified from them. And the mere shadow of patience which we seemed to possess when we interacted with our brothers and sisters—at least out of respect for them and the public nature of community life—we lose altogether through laziness and carelessness.

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.

An example to help in forming a judgment about those who are patient only when no one puts them to the test.

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 wild beasts which, while they remain in solitude and their own lairs, are still not harmless; for they cannot really be said to be harmless simply because they are not actually hurting anybody. This results in their case not from any feeling of goodness, but from the circumstances of solitude, and when they get an opportunity to hurt someone, they immediately 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 simply not to be angry with other people. For we remember 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 with a blunt edge, and against a flint if by chance when we were rather late and hurrying to the reading, a spark of fire would not come out, so that we could not remove and get rid of our mental disturbance except by cursing the senseless object, or at least the devil. Therefore, for a method of perfection it will be useless for there to be a lack of people against whom our anger might be aroused, since if patience has not already been acquired, the feelings of passion that still dwell in our hearts can equally well spend themselves on inanimate things and trivial 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.

But it is like all poisonous kinds of serpents or of wild beasts, which, while they remain in solitude and their own lairs, are still not harmless; for they cannot really be said to be harmless, because they are not actually 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.

On the way in which anger should be banished according to the gospel.

Of the way in which auger should be banished according to the gospel.

Therefore, 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," we ought not only to banish anger from our actions, but entirely to root it out from our inmost soul. For it will not do 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 hidden, sees that it remains in the secret recesses of our heart. For the word of the gospel commands us to destroy the roots of our faults rather than the fruits; for these, when the incitements are all removed, will certainly not put forth shoots anymore. And so the mind will be able to continue in complete 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 whoever is angry with his brother is in danger of the judgment, and whoever hates his brother is a murderer, because in his heart he desires to kill him, whose blood we know 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 person, not merely for the result of his actions, but for his purpose and desires and wishes, either a reward or a punishment, according to what He Himself says through the prophet: "But I come that I may gather them together with all nations and tongues," and again: "Their thoughts between themselves accusing or also defending one another, in the day when God shall judge the secrets of men."

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, Matthew 5:8 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; and whosoever hates his brother is a murderer; 1 John 3:15 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; Isaiah 66:18 and again: Their thoughts between themselves accusing or also defending one another, in the day when God shall judge the secrets of men. Romans 2:15-16

Whether we ought to accept the addition of "without a cause" in what is written in the Gospel, "whosoever is angry with his brother," etc.

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.

You should know that in the passage found in many copies, "Whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause is in danger of the judgment," the words "without a cause" are superfluous and were added by those who did not think that anger for just reasons should be eliminated. After all, no one, no matter how unreasonably disturbed, would say he was angry without a cause. Therefore, it appears these words were added by those who did not understand Scripture's purpose, which was to completely banish the impulse toward anger and to leave no occasion whatsoever for indignation. This is to prevent a situation where, while being commanded to be angry with good reason, we might find an opportunity to be angry without good reason. The end and goal of patience is not to be angry with good reason, but not to be angry at all. However, I know that some interpret this very expression "without a cause" to mean that someone is angry without a cause when, despite being angered, he is not permitted to seek vengeance. But it is better to understand it as we find it written in many modern copies and all the ancient ones.

But you should know that in this, which is found in many copies, Whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause, is in danger of the judgment, the words without a cause are superfluous, and were added by those who did not think that anger for just causes was to be banished: since certainly nobody, however unreasonably he is disturbed, would say that he was angry without a cause. Wherefore it appears to have been added by those who did not understand the drift of Scripture, 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.

The remedies by which we can root out anger from our hearts.

The remedies by which we can root out anger from our hearts.

Therefore, the athlete of Christ who competes according to the rules must completely root out the feeling of anger. There will be a reliable cure for this disease if, first of all, we decide that we should never be angry at all, whether for good or bad reasons. We must understand that we will immediately lose the light of discernment, the security of good judgment, our integrity, and the balanced character of righteousness if the central light of our heart has been darkened by anger's shadows. Second, the purity of our soul will soon be clouded, and it cannot possibly become a temple for the Holy Spirit while the spirit of anger lives in us. Finally, we should recognize that we should never pray or offer our prayer to God while we are angry. And above all, keeping before our eyes the uncertain condition of human life, we should realize daily that we will soon depart from the body, and that our self-control and chastity, our renunciation of all our possessions, our contempt of wealth, our efforts in fasting and keeping vigil will not help us at all if eternal punishments are given to us by the judge of the world solely because of anger and hatred.

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.

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.

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. This is a foreign warfare, one that comes from outside our nature. In the case of a monk, it originates only from a corrupt and sluggish state of mind, and often from an unsatisfactory beginning to his renunciation, with his love toward God being lukewarm from the start. The other incitements to sin that are planted in human nature seem to have their beginning as though they were inborn with us. They are somehow deeply rooted in our flesh and almost coeval with our birth, appearing before we can discern good and evil. Although they attack a person from very early days, they are overcome only through a long struggle.

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 cœval 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.

How dangerous is the disease of covetousness.

How dangerous is the disease of covetousness.

But this disease comes upon us at a later period and approaches the soul from outside. Just as it can be more easily guarded against and resisted, so also, if it is disregarded and once allowed to gain entrance into the heart, it is the more dangerous to everyone and expelled with greater difficulty. For it becomes a root of all evils, 1 Timothy 6:10 and gives rise to a multiplicity of incitements to sin.

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, 1 Timothy 6:10 and gives rise to a multiplicity of incitements to sin.

What is the usefulness of those vices which are natural to us.

What is the usefulness of those vices which are natural to us.

We see these natural impulses of the flesh not only in boys whose innocence still comes before any discernment of good and evil, but even in small children and infants. Though they have not the slightest trace of lust within them, they nevertheless show that the impulses of the flesh exist in them and are naturally aroused. We also see that the deadly stings of anger are already present and fully active in small children. Before they have learned the virtue of patience, we see that they are disturbed by wrongs and feel offended even by things done in jest. Sometimes, though they lack the strength, they do not lack the desire to take revenge when anger stirs them. I do not say this to condemn their natural state, but to show that among these impulses which come from us, some are planted in us for a useful purpose, while others are introduced from outside through carelessness and the desire of an evil will. These carnal impulses we mentioned above were implanted in our bodies by the Creator's providence for a useful purpose: to continue the human race and raise up children for future generations, not for committing adultery and sexual immorality, which the law's authority also condemns. The stings of anger, too—do we not see that they have been most wisely given to us so that, becoming enraged at our sins and mistakes, we may apply ourselves more earnestly to virtues and spiritual disciplines, showing forth all love toward God and patience toward our brothers? We also know how great is the usefulness of sorrow, which is counted among the other vices when it is turned to the opposite use. On the one hand, when it is according to the fear of God, it is most necessary; on the other hand, when it is according to the world, it is most destructive. The Apostle teaches us this when he says that sorrow which is according to God produces repentance that is steadfast unto salvation, but the sorrow of the world produces death.

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 learned 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 works repentance that is steadfast unto salvation, but the sorrow of the world works death. 2 Corinthians 7:10

We can say that certain natural faults exist in us without doing any wrong to the Creator.

That we can say that there exist in us some natural faults, without wronging the Creator.

If we say that these impulses were planted in us by the Creator, He will not seem blameworthy on that account, if we choose wrongly to misuse them and pervert them to harmful purposes, and are ready to be grieved by the useless Cains of this world rather than by showing penitence and correcting our faults—or at least if we are angry not with ourselves (which would be profitable) but with our brothers in defiance of God's command. In the case of iron, which is given to us for good and useful purposes, if someone perverts it to murder the innocent, one would not blame the maker of the metal because a person has used for injuring others what he provided for the good and useful purposes of living happily.

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.

Faults that are acquired through our own actions, without being caused by natural impulses.

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, such as envy and this very sin of covetousness. These are caught, so to speak, from outside, having no origin in us from natural instincts. Yet in proportion to how easily they can be guarded against and readily avoided, they make the mind they have seized all the more wretched, and they hardly allow it to reach the remedies that would cure it. This is either because those who are wounded by things they could have ignored, avoided, or easily overcome do not deserve to be healed by a quick cure, or else because, having laid their foundations badly, they are unworthy to raise an edifice of virtue and reach the summit of perfection.

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.

How difficult the evil of covetousness is to drive away once it has been admitted.

How difficult the evil of covetousness is to drive away when once it has been admitted.

Therefore, no one should consider this evil to be insignificant or trivial: for just as it can easily be avoided, so if it once takes hold of someone, it hardly allows him to access the remedies for healing it. For it is a breeding ground of sins and a root of all kinds of evil, and it becomes an incurable incitement to wickedness, as the Apostle says, "Covetousness, that is, the love of money, is a root of all kinds of evil." 1 Timothy 6:10

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. 1 Timothy 6:10

On the source from which covetousness springs, and on the evils of which it is itself the mother.

Of the source from which covetousness springs, and of the evils of which it is itself the mother.

When this vice takes hold of the lazy and halfhearted soul of some monk, it begins by tempting him over a small sum of money, giving him excellent and almost reasonable excuses for why he should keep some money for himself. He complains that what the monastery provides is not enough and can hardly be endured even by a healthy and strong body. What will he do if illness comes and he has no personal supply to support him in his weakness? He says the monastery's provisions are meager and that there is great negligence toward the sick, and if he doesn't have something of his own to care for his body's needs, he will die miserably. The clothing given to him is inadequate unless he has set aside something to obtain more. Finally, he says he cannot possibly stay in the same place and monastery for long, and unless he has secured money for travel and the cost of moving overseas, he cannot leave when he wants to. Held back by poverty, he will drag out a miserable and wearisome existence without making any progress. He cannot be supported by another's resources without dishonor, like a pauper or beggar. And so when he has deceived himself with such thoughts, he racks his brain thinking how to acquire at least one coin. Then he anxiously searches for some special work he can do without the abbot knowing. Selling it secretly and obtaining the desired coin, he torments himself even more thinking how he can double it, puzzled over where to store it or to whom to entrust it. Then he is burdened with even heavier worry about what to buy with it or what business deal might double it. When this succeeds as he hoped, an even greedier craving for gold springs up and grows more intense as his store of money increases. For as wealth increases, the madness of covetousness increases. Then he starts imagining a long life, a feeble old age, and all sorts of prolonged illnesses that will be unbearable in old age unless a large store of money has been laid up in youth. So the wretched soul is troubled and held fast, as if in a serpent's coils, while it tries to add to that pile it has unlawfully gained through even more unlawful efforts. It gives birth to troubles that inflame it more severely, and being completely absorbed in the pursuit of gain, it pays attention to nothing except how to get money with which to flee as quickly as possible from the monastery's discipline. It never keeps faith when there is any prospect of getting money. For this it does not shrink from the crimes of lying, perjury, theft, breaking promises, or giving way to harmful outbursts of anger. If there is any chance of gaining profit, the man has no qualms about crossing the boundaries of humility, and through it all, gold and the love of gain become his god, just as the belly does for others. Therefore the blessed Apostle, seeing the deadly poison of this plague, not only says 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 philargyria) which is the worship of idols" (Colossians 3:5). You see then what a downfall this madness leads to step by step, so that by the Apostle's own words it is actually declared to be the worship of idols and false gods, because ignoring the image and likeness of God (which one who serves God with devotion ought to preserve undefiled in himself), it chooses instead to love and care for images stamped on gold rather than God.

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 entrust 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 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 φιλαργυρία) which is the worship of idols. Colossians 3:5 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.

How covetousness is a hindrance to all virtues.

How covetousness is a hindrance to all virtues.

With such rapid strides downward, he goes from bad to worse, and at last he no longer cares to maintain—I will not even say the virtue itself—but even the outward appearance of humility, charity, and obedience. He is displeased with everything and murmurs and groans over every task. Having now cast off all reverence, like an ill-tempered horse, he rushes forward headlong and without restraint. Discontented with his daily food and usual clothing, he announces that he will no longer tolerate it. He declares that God is not only present there, and that his salvation is not limited to that place, from which, if he does not quickly remove himself, he deeply laments that he will soon die.

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.

How a monk who has money cannot remain in the monastery.

How a monk who has money cannot stay in the monastery.

And so, having money to fund his wandering, with which he has equipped himself with wings so to speak, and now being completely ready to leave, he responds rudely to all commands and behaves like a stranger and a visitor. Whatever he sees needing improvement, he despises and treats with contempt. Though he has a supply of money secretly hidden away, he still complains that he has neither shoes nor clothes, and becomes indignant that they are given to him so slowly. And if it happens that through the superior's management some of these items are given first to someone who is known to have absolutely nothing, he becomes even more inflamed with burning rage and thinks he is being despised as a stranger. Nor is he willing to turn his hand to any work, but finds fault with everything the monastery's needs require to be done. Then he deliberately looks for opportunities to be offended and angry, lest it appear he left the discipline of the monastery for a trivial reason. And not content to leave by himself alone, lest it be thought he left because of his own fault, he never stops corrupting as many people as he can through secret conversations. But if severe weather interferes with his journey and travels, he remains in a state of constant suspense and anxiety of heart, and never stops sowing and stirring up discontent, since he thinks he will only find consolation for his departure and an excuse for his fickleness in the bad character and defects of 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.

Of the hardships which someone who leaves a monastery must endure because of covetousness, even though he used to complain about the smallest tasks.

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, increasingly inflamed with love of his money. Once acquired, this money never allows a monk either to stay in a monastery or to live under the discipline of a rule. When it has separated him like a wild beast from the rest of the herd and made him, through lack of companions, an animal fit for prey, causing him to be easily devoured since he is deprived of fellow lodgers, it forces him—who once thought it beneath him to perform the slight duties of the monastery—to labor without stopping night and day through hope of gain. It permits him to keep no services of prayer, no system of fasting, no rule of vigils. It does not allow him to fulfill the duties of proper intercession, so long as he can satisfy the madness of avarice and supply his daily needs. All the while, it inflames the fire of covetousness even more, though he believes it will be extinguished by acquiring more.

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.

Under the pretext of managing finances, women are persuaded to live with them.

That under pretence of keeping the purse women have to besought to dwell with them.

Many people are driven over a steep cliff by an irrevocable fall to their death. Not content to possess by themselves the money which they either never had before or which they wrongfully kept back from the beginning, they seek women to live with them in order to preserve what they have unjustly accumulated or retained. They entangle themselves in so many harmful and dangerous pursuits that they are cast down even to the depths of hell, refusing to accept the Apostle's saying that having food and clothing they should be content with what the monastery's economy provides. Instead, wishing to become rich, they fall into temptation and the snare of the devil, and into many unprofitable and harmful desires which plunge men into destruction and perdition. For the love of money—that is, covetousness—is a root of all kinds of evil. Some who have coveted it have wandered away from the faith and have entangled themselves in many sorrows. 1 Timothy 6:8-10

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. 1 Timothy 6:8-10

An example of a lukewarm monk trapped in the snares of covetousness.

An instance of a lukewarm monk caught in the snares of covetousness.

I know of one man who thinks of himself as a monk and, worse still, flatters himself on his perfection. He had been received into a monastery, and his Abbot charged him not to turn his thoughts back to the things he had given up and renounced, but to free himself from covetousness, the root of all kinds of evil, and from earthly snares. The Abbot told him that if he wished to be cleansed from his former passions, by which he saw he was from time to time grievously oppressed, he should stop caring about those things which even formerly were not his own. Entangled in the chains of these things, he certainly could not make progress toward purifying himself of his faults. With an angry expression, he did not hesitate to answer, "If you have what you need to support others, why do you forbid me to have it as well?"

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?

What the elders teach the younger members about the matter of putting off sins.

What the elders relate to the juniors in the matter of stripping off sins.

No one should consider this unnecessary or problematic. Unless the different types of sins are first explained and the origin and causes of diseases are traced out, proper healing remedies cannot be applied to the sick, nor can those who are strong maintain perfect health. These matters and many others are regularly presented for the instruction of younger brothers by the elders in their conferences, since they have experienced countless falls and the destruction of all kinds of people. Often, when the elders explained and revealed these things, we recognized many of them in ourselves. As people troubled by the same passions, we were healed without any shame or embarrassment on our part, since without saying anything we learned both the remedies and the causes of the sins that afflicted us. We have passed over these matters and said nothing about them, not because we feared the brothers, but because our book might happen to fall into the hands of people who have had no training in this way of life, and it might reveal to inexperienced persons what should be known only to those who are laboring and striving to reach the heights of perfection.

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 by the same passions, we were cured without any shame or confusion on our part, since without saying anything we learned 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.

Examples that demonstrate the disease of covetousness has three forms.

Instances to show that the disease of covetousness is threefold.

This disease and unhealthy condition takes three forms, and all the fathers condemn it with equal horror. The first feature is the one we described above, which deceives miserable people and convinces them to hoard possessions even though they never owned anything when they lived in the world. The second forces people to take back and desire again those things they gave up in the early days when they renounced the world. The third springs from a faulty and harmful beginning and makes a bad start—it prevents those it has infected with this lukewarmness of mind from stripping themselves of all their worldly goods because they fear poverty and lack faith. Those who keep back money and property that they should have renounced and abandoned can never arrive at the perfection of the gospel. We find examples of these three disasters in Holy Scripture, and they were punished severely. When Gehazi wanted to acquire what he had never owned before, he not only failed to receive the gift of prophecy that would have been his by hereditary succession from his master, but instead was covered by the curse of the holy Elisha with perpetual leprosy. Judas, wanting to reclaim the wealth he had formerly cast away when he followed Christ, not only fell into betraying the Lord and lost his apostolic rank, but was also not permitted to die a natural death like everyone else—instead he ended his life violently. Ananias and Sapphira, who kept back part of what had formerly been their own, were punished with death at the Apostle's word.

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.

On the difference between one who renounces the world badly and one who does not renounce it at all.

Of the difference between one who renounces the world badly and one who does not renounce it at all.

Regarding those who claim they have renounced this world but later, overcome by lack of faith, become afraid of losing their worldly possessions, a charge is given mystically in Deuteronomy: "If anyone is afraid and has a fearful heart, let him not go out to war. Let him go back and return home, so that he does not make the hearts of his brothers fearful, since he himself is timid and frightened" (Deuteronomy 20:8). What could be plainer than this testimony? Does not Scripture clearly indicate that it would be better for them not to take on 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 commanded to withdraw from the battle and return to their homes, because a person cannot fight the Lord's battle with a divided heart. For "a double-minded man is unstable in all his ways" (James 1:8). And thinking, according to that parable in the Gospel (Luke 14:31-32), that the one who goes out with ten thousand men against a king who comes with twenty thousand cannot possibly fight, they should, while he is still far off, ask for peace. That is, it is better for them not even to take the first step toward renunciation, rather than pursuing it halfheartedly afterward and involving themselves in still greater dangers. For it is better not to vow than to vow and not pay. But the one is finely described as coming with ten thousand and the other with twenty thousand, for the number of sins that attack us is far larger than that of the virtues that fight for us. But "no one can serve God and mammon" (Matthew 6:24). And "no one putting his hand to the plow and looking back is fit for the kingdom of God" (Luke 9:62).

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. Deuteronomy 20:8 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. James 1:8 And thinking, according to that Parable in the Gospel, Luke 14:31-32 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. 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. Matthew 6:24 And no man putting his hand to the plough and looking back is fit for the kingdom of God. Luke 9:62

Concerning the authority that those people rely on when they refuse to give up their possessions.

Of the authority under which those shelter themselves who object to stripping themselves of their goods.

These people try to justify their original greed by using some authority from Holy Scripture, which they interpret with dishonest cleverness. They want to twist and distort a saying of the Apostle—or rather of the Lord Himself—to suit their own purposes. Instead of adapting their own life or understanding to the meaning of Scripture, they bend the meaning of Scripture to fit the desires of their own lust. They try to make it conform to their own views, saying that it is written, "It is more blessed to give than to receive." Through a completely wrong interpretation of this, they think they can weaken the force of that saying of the Lord in which he says: "If you will be perfect, go sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you shall have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me." They think that under the cover of this verse they do not need to deprive themselves of their riches, claiming instead that they are more blessed if, supported by what originally belonged to them, they also give to others out of their surplus. While they are reluctant to embrace with the Apostle that glorious state of renunciation for Christ's sake, they are also unwilling to accept either manual labor or the modest diet of the monastery. The only thing is that these people must either know that they are deceiving themselves and have not really renounced the world while they cling to their former riches, or, if they really and truly want to experience the monastic life, they must give up and abandon all these things and keep back nothing of what they have renounced, and, with the Apostle, glory in hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness.

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. Acts 20:35 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 you will be perfect, go sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you shall have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me. Matthew 19:21 And they think that under color 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. 2 Corinthians 2:27

On the renunciation practiced by the apostles and the early church.

Of the renunciation of the apostles and the primitive church.

As if Paul (who by claiming that he possessed the rights of a Roman citizen from birth demonstrates that he was not an insignificant person according to worldly status) could not also have been supported by the property that had previously belonged to him! And as if those men who owned lands and houses in Jerusalem and sold everything, keeping back absolutely nothing for themselves, and brought the proceeds and laid them at the apostles' feet, could not have provided for their physical needs from their own property, had the apostles considered this the best plan, or had they themselves thought it preferable! But they gave up all their property at once and chose instead to be supported by their own labor and by the contributions of the Gentiles. The holy Apostle speaks of this collection in his letter to the Romans, declaring his own role in this matter to them and urging them also 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. He shows the same concern about this to the Corinthians and urges them more diligently to prepare a collection before his arrival, which he intended to send for their needs. But concerning the collection for the saints, as I appointed to the churches of Galatia, so also do. 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 to encourage them to make a larger collection, he adds, But if it be meet that I also go, they shall go with me, meaning if your offering is of such quality as to deserve to be taken there through my own service. To the Galatians he also testifies that when he was settling the division of preaching ministry with the apostles, he had arranged this with James, Peter, and John: that he would undertake the preaching to the Gentiles but would never abandon care and anxious concern for the poor who were at Jerusalem, who for Christ's sake gave up all their possessions and submitted to voluntary poverty. And when they saw, he said, 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. He testifies that he attended to this matter most carefully, saying, which also I was anxious of myself to do. Who then are the more blessed: those who only recently were gathered from among the heathen and, being unable to rise to the heights of gospel perfection, clung to their own property, in whose case it was considered a great thing by the Apostle if they were at least restrained from the worship of idols, and from fornication, and from things strangled, and from blood, and had embraced the faith of Christ along with their possessions and everything; or those who live up to the demands of the gospel and carry the Lord's cross daily and want nothing from their property to remain for their own use? And if the blessed Apostle himself, bound with chains and fetters, or hindered by the difficulties of traveling, and for these reasons unable to provide with his hands, as he generally did, for his food supply, declares that he received what supplied his needs from the brethren who came from Macedonia—For that which was lacking to me, he says, the brethren who came from Macedonia supplied, and to the Philippians he says: For you 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—if this was so, then according to the notion these men 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 from their substance? But no one will venture to claim this, however much a fool he may be.

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. Romans 15:25-27 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. 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: 1 Corinthians 16:1-4 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. Galatians 2:9-10 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, Acts 15:20 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: 2 Corinthians 11:9 and to the Philippians he says: For you 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: Philippians 4:15-16 (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.

If we want to imitate the apostles, we ought not to live according to our own prescriptions, but to follow their example.

That if we want to imitate the apostles we ought not to live according to our own prescriptions, but to follow their example.

Therefore if we want to obey the gospel command and show ourselves to be followers of the Apostle and the whole early church, or of the fathers who in our own time have succeeded to their virtues and perfection, we should not settle for our own rules, promising ourselves perfection from this miserable and lukewarm state of ours. Rather, following their example, we should not aim at looking after our own interests at all, but should seek out the discipline and rule of a monastery, so that we may truly renounce this world. We should preserve nothing of those things we have renounced through the temptation of unbelief, and should look for our daily food not from any store of our own money, but from our own labor.

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.

A statement by Saint Basil the Bishop, directed against Syncletius.

A saying of S. Basil, the Bishop, directed against Syncletius.

There is a well-known saying of Saint Basil, Bishop of Caesarea, directed against a certain Syncletius, who was becoming indifferent with the kind of lukewarmness we have been discussing. Though he claimed to have renounced this world, he had nevertheless held back some of his property for himself, unwilling to support himself through the work of his own hands, to acquire true humility by giving up everything, through hard labor, and through submitting to the discipline of the monastery. Basil said to him: You have ruined Syncletius and not made him a monk.

There is current a saying of S. Basil, Bishop of Cæsarea, 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.

How contemptible it is to be overcome by covetousness.

How contemptible it is to be overcome by covetousness.

If we want to fight lawfully in our spiritual combat, we must drive this dangerous enemy from our hearts as well. Defeating him doesn't demonstrate great virtue so much as being defeated by him is shameful and disgraceful. When you are overpowered by a strong opponent, although there is grief in being overthrown and distress at losing the victory, the defeated person can at least find some consolation in the strength of their adversary. But if the enemy is worthless and the struggle is weak, besides the grief of defeat there is a more disgraceful kind of humiliation and a shame that is worse than the loss itself.

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.

How covetousness can be conquered.

How covetousness can be conquered.

And in this case, the greatest victory and lasting triumph will come if the monk's conscience is not corrupted by possessing even the smallest coin. For it is impossible for someone who has been defeated in the matter of a small possession and has allowed a root of evil desire to enter his heart not to be inflamed soon after with the heat of an even greater desire. For the soldier of Christ will be victorious, safe, and free from all attacks of desire, as long as this most evil spirit does not plant a seed of this desire in his heart. Therefore, although we should normally watch the serpent's head in regard to all kinds of sins (Genesis 3:15), we must be especially alert in this matter above all. For if it has been admitted, it will grow by feeding on itself and will kindle an even worse fire for itself. And so we must not only guard against possessing money, but also expel from our souls the desire for it. For we should not merely avoid the results of covetousness, but cut off by the roots all inclination toward it. For it will do no good to avoid possessing money if the desire to acquire it still exists in us.

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, Genesis 3:15 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.

A person who actually has no money may still be considered covetous.

That one who actually has no money may still be deemed covetous.

For it is possible even for someone who has no money to be far from free of the disease of covetousness, and for the blessing of poverty to do him no good, because he has not been able to uproot the sin of greed: taking pleasure in the benefits 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 that those who are not defiled in body are adulterers in heart (Matthew 5:28), so it is possible that those who are in no way weighed down by money may be condemned along with the covetous in disposition and intention. For in their case it was the opportunity to possess that was lacking, not the desire for it—and it is the latter that God always rewards, rather than compulsion. And so we must use all diligence so that the fruits of our labors should not be destroyed for nothing. 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 broken will.

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; Matthew 5:28 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.

An example taken from the case of Judas.

An example drawn from the case of Judas.

Would you like to know how dangerously and harmfully that temptation, unless it has been carefully rooted out, will spring up to destroy its owner and produce all kinds of branches bearing different sins? Look at Judas, counted among the number of the apostles, and see how because he would not crush the deadly head of this serpent, it destroyed him with its poison. When he was caught in the snares of desire, it drove him into sin and a catastrophic fall, so that he was persuaded to sell the Redeemer of the world and the author of mankind's salvation for thirty pieces of silver. And he could never have been driven to this terrible sin of betrayal if he had not been corrupted by the sin of greed. Nor would he have wickedly made himself guilty of betraying the Lord unless he had first gotten into the habit of stealing from the money bag entrusted to him.

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 the Lord, unless he had first accustomed himself to rob the bag entrusted to him.

Greed cannot be conquered except by giving up everything completely.

That covetousness cannot be overcome except by stripping one's self of everything.

This is a sufficiently dreadful and clear example of this tyranny, which, once it captures the mind, allows no adherence to any rules of honesty and permits no satisfaction with any increase in wealth. We must seek to end this madness not by acquiring riches, but by stripping ourselves of them. Finally, when Judas received the bag set aside for distribution to the poor and entrusted to his care for this purpose—so that he might at least satisfy himself with an abundance of money and set a limit to his greed—his plentiful supply only inflamed his desire even more intensely, so that he was ready no longer merely to steal secretly from the bag, but actually to sell the Lord Himself. For the madness of this greed is not satisfied with any amount of riches.

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 entrusted 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.

Concerning the deaths of Ananias and Sapphira, and Judas, which they suffered due to the impulse of greed.

Of the deaths of Ananias and Sapphira, and Judas, which they underwent through the impulse of covetousness.

Finally, the leader of the apostles, taught by these examples and knowing that anyone who has any avarice cannot control it, and that it cannot be ended by any amount of money, whether large or small, but only by the virtue of renouncing everything, punished Ananias and Sapphira with death—those who were mentioned earlier—because they had held back part of their property. This was so that the same death Judas had voluntarily brought upon himself for the sin of betraying the Lord, they too might suffer for their deceitful avarice. How closely the sin and punishment match in each case! In one instance treachery, in the other falsehood, both resulted from covetousness. In one case the truth is betrayed, in the other the sin of lying is committed. Though the outcomes of their actions may appear different, they agree in having one and the same goal. For Judas, in order to escape poverty, wanted to take back what he had given up; the others, fearing they might become poor, tried to keep back part of their property, which they should have either offered to the apostle in good faith or given entirely to the brothers. And so in each case the judgment of death follows, because each sin sprang from the root of covetousness. Therefore, if such a severe sentence was pronounced against those who did not covet other people's possessions but tried to hold onto their own, and who had no desire to acquire but only the wish to keep what they had, what should we think of those who desire to accumulate wealth without ever having had any of their own, and who make a show of poverty before people but are convicted before God of being rich through the passion of avarice?

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. Acts v 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?

Covetousness brings a spiritual leprosy upon the soul.

That covetousness brings upon the soul a spiritual leprosy.

Those who are infected with covetousness are seen to be lepers in spirit and heart, like Gehazi. He desired the uncertain riches of this world and was covered with the stain of foul leprosy. Through this, he left us a clear example that every soul defiled with the stain of greed is covered with the spiritual leprosy of sin and is counted as unclean before God with a perpetual curse.

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.

Scripture proofs by which someone who aims at perfection is taught not to take back what he has given up and renounced.

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 through the desire for perfection you have forsaken all things and followed Christ, who says to you, "Go sell all that you have, and give to the poor, and you shall have treasure in heaven: and come follow me" (Matthew 19:21), why, having put your hand to the plow, 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 (Luke 9:62)? When you are secure on the top of the gospel roof, why do you descend to carry away something from the house—namely, from those things which you previously despised? When you are out in the field 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 (Luke 17:31)? But if you were prevented by poverty from having anything to give up, you should even less seek to accumulate what you never had before. For by the grace of the Lord you were made ready for this purpose: that you might hasten to him more readily, being unhindered by any snares of wealth. But let no one who lacks this be discouraged, for there is no one who does not have something to give up. Anyone who has thoroughly eradicated the desire to possess them has renounced all the possessions of this world.

If then through the desire of perfection you have forsaken all things and followed Christ who says to you, Go sell all that you have, and give to the poor, and you shall have treasure in heaven: and come follow me, Matthew 19:21 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? Luke 9:62 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? Luke 17:31 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.

The victory over covetousness can only be achieved by completely stripping oneself of everything.

That the victory over covetousness can only be gained by stripping one's self bare of everything.

This, then, is the complete victory over covetousness: not to allow even the slightest trace of it to remain in our heart, knowing that we will have no power to extinguish it if we nurture even the smallest spark of it within us.

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.

How a monk can maintain his poverty.

How a monk can retain his poverty.

We can only preserve this virtue unimpaired if we remain in a monastery and, as the Apostle says, having food and clothing, are content with these things.

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. 1 Timothy 6:8

The remedies for the disease of greed.

The remedies against the disease of covetousness.

Keeping in mind the judgment of Ananias and Sapphira, let us dread holding back any of those things which we gave up and vowed completely to forsake. Let us also fear the example of Gehazi, who for the sin of greed was punished with perpetual leprosy. From this let us beware of acquiring wealth which we never previously possessed. Moreover, dreading both the fault and the death of Judas, let us with all our power avoid taking back any of that wealth which we once cast away from ourselves. Above all, considering the condition of our weak and unstable nature, let us beware lest the day of the Lord come upon us as a thief in the night (1 Thessalonians 5:4) and find our conscience defiled even by a single penny. For this would cancel all the fruits of our renunciation of the world and cause what was said to the rich man in the gospel to be directed toward us also by the voice of the Lord: "You fool, this night your soul shall be required of you: then whose shall those things be which you have prepared?" (Luke 12:20). And taking no thought for tomorrow, let us never allow ourselves to be enticed away from the rule of the Coenobium.

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, 1 Thessalonians 5:4 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: You fool, this night your soul shall be required of you: then whose shall those things be which you have prepared? Luke 12:20 And taking no thought for the morrow, let us never allow ourselves to be enticed away from the rule of the Cœnobium.

No one can overcome covetousness unless they remain in the coenobium, and here is how one can stay there.

That no one can get the better of covetousness unless he stays in the Cœnobium: and how one can remain there.

However, we will certainly not be allowed to do this, or even to remain under the rule of a system, unless the virtue of patience, which can only arise from humility as its source, is first firmly fixed and established in us. For one teaches us not to trouble anyone else; the other teaches us to endure with courage the wrongs done to us.

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.

The transition from the Institutes of the monks to the struggle against the eight principal faults.

The transition from the Institutes of the monks to the struggle against the eight principal faults.

With God's help, we are now going to produce this fifth book. After completing four books on the customs of the monasteries, we now propose—strengthened by God through your prayers—to take up the struggle against the eight principal faults. These are: first, Gluttony or the pleasures of the palate; second, Fornication; third, Covetousness, which means Avarice or, more properly, the love of money; fourth, Anger; fifth, Dejection; sixth, Accidie (heaviness or weariness of heart); seventh, κενοδοξία (foolish or vain glory); eighth, Pride. As we begin this difficult task, we need your prayers, most blessed Pope Castor, more than ever. We need them so that we may be able, first, to properly investigate the nature of these faults in all respects, however small, hidden, or obscure; second, to explain their causes with sufficient clarity; and third, to present appropriate cures and remedies for them.

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, which is heaviness or weariness of heart; seventhly, κενοδοξία 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.

How the occasions of these faults are found in everyone yet overlooked by everyone, and how we need the Lord's help to make them clear.

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.

Everyone recognizes these passions as soon as they are revealed by the teaching of the elders. But before they are revealed, even though we are all overcome by them and they exist in everyone, no one knows about them. We trust that we will be able to explain them to some extent if, through your prayers, the word of the Lord announced by Isaiah may apply to us also: "I will go before you, 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 you concealed treasures and hidden secrets" (Isaiah 45:2-3). Then the word of the Lord may go before us also, and first bring low the mighty ones of our land—that is, these same evil passions which we desire to overcome and which claim for themselves dominion and a most terrible tyranny in our mortal body. He may make them yield to our investigation and explanation, and by breaking the gates of our ignorance and cutting asunder the bars of vices that shut us out from true knowledge, may lead us to the hidden things of our secrets. He may 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" (1 Corinthians 4:5). Thus, penetrating with pure eyes of the mind into 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 still tied and bound by them. And so, passing as the prophet says through the fire of vices which terribly inflame our minds, we may be able immediately to pass also through the water of virtues which extinguish them unharmed. Being refreshed as it were with spiritual remedies, we may be found worthy to be brought in purity of heart to the consolations of perfection.

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 you, 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 you concealed treasures and hidden secrets Isaiah 45:2-3 — 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, 1 Corinthians 4:5 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, through the fire of vices which terribly inflame our minds, we may be able immediately 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.

How our first struggle must be against the spirit of gluttony, that is, the pleasures of the palate.

How our first struggle must be against the spirit of gluttony, i.e. the pleasures of the palate.

Our first conflict must be against gluttony, which we have explained as the pleasures of the palate. Since we are going to discuss the system of fasts and the quality of food, we must return to the traditions and practices of the Egyptians, because everyone knows they possess a more advanced discipline in self-control and a perfect method of discernment.

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.

The testimony of Abbot Antony, in which he teaches that each virtue should be sought from the person who practices it to an exceptional degree.

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.

The blessed Antony had an ancient and excellent saying: when a monk is working toward the monastic life and trying to reach the heights of more advanced perfection, and has learned the practice of discretion so that he can now stand by his own judgment and arrive at the very summit of the hermit's life, he should not try to seek all kinds of virtues from one man, however excellent that man may be. For one person is adorned with the 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 continence, another is decorated with the grace of simplicity. This one excels all others in magnanimity, that one in compassion, another in keeping vigils, another in silence, another in earnestness of work. Therefore the monk who desires to gather spiritual honey should, like a very careful bee, suck out virtue from those who especially possess it, and should diligently store it up in the container of his own heart. He should not investigate what anyone is lacking, but only regard and gather whatever virtue that person has. For if we want to gain all virtues from one person, we will find suitable examples to imitate with great difficulty, or perhaps never at all. Though we do not yet see that Christ is made all things in all, as the Apostle says, still in this way we can find Him bit by bit in all. For it is said of Him that He was made by God to you wisdom and righteousness and sanctification and redemption. So while in one person 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 the saints. But when all come together into the unity of the faith and virtue, He is formed into the perfect man, completing the fullness of His body in the joints and individual characteristics of all His members. Until that time arrives when God will be all in all, for now God can, in the way we have described, be in all through particular virtues, although He is not yet all in all through the fullness of them. For although our religion has one end and goal, there are different ways by which we approach God, as will be shown more fully in the Conferences of the Elders. And so we must seek a model of discretion and continence especially from those from whom we see these virtues flowing forth more abundantly through the grace of the Holy Spirit—not that anyone can alone acquire those things which are divided among many, but so that in those good qualities we are capable of, we may advance toward imitating those who have especially acquired them.

For it is an ancient and excellent saying of the blessed Antony 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; 1 Corinthians 15:28 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. 1 Corinthians 1:30 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, Ephesians 4:13 completing the fullness 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 fullness 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. 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.

That one and the same rule of fasting cannot be observed by everybody.

That one and the same rule of fasting cannot be observed by everybody.

A uniform rule for fasting cannot easily be observed because not everyone has the same strength. Unlike the other virtues, fasting is not acquired by mental determination alone. Therefore, since it depends not only on mental strength but also on the body's capabilities, we have received this explanation that has been handed down to us: the time, manner, and quality of food vary according to differences in bodily condition, age, and sex. However, there is one and the same rule of restraint for everyone regarding continence of mind and the virtue of the spirit. It is impossible for everyone to extend their fast for a week or to go without food for two or three days. Many people who are weakened by illness and especially by old age cannot endure fasting even until sunset without suffering. The thin food of soaked beans does not agree with everyone, nor does a spare diet of fresh vegetables suit all, nor is a meager meal of dry bread suitable for everyone alike. One person is not satisfied with two pounds of food, while for another, one pound or six ounces is too much. But there is one aim and goal of continence for all of these people: that no one should be overburdened beyond the measure of their appetite by gluttony. For it is not only the quality but also the quantity of food consumed that dulls the sharpness of the mind, and when both the soul and the flesh are overfed, it kindles the harmful and fiery incentive to vice.

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.

The mind is not made drunk by wine alone.

That the mind is not intoxicated by wine alone.

When the belly is filled with all kinds of food, it gives birth to seeds of wantonness, and the mind, when choked with the weight of food, cannot maintain guidance and control over thoughts. For drunkenness with wine is not the only thing that intoxicates the mind—excess of all kinds of food also makes it weak and uncertain, robbing it of all power for pure and clear contemplation. The cause of Sodom's overthrow and wantonness was not drunkenness from wine, but fullness of bread. Hear the Lord rebuking Jerusalem through the prophet: "For how did your sister Sodom sin, except in that she ate her bread in fullness and abundance?" (Ezekiel 16:49). And because through fullness of bread they were inflamed with uncontrollable lust of the flesh, they were burned up by God's judgment with fire and brimstone from heaven. But if excess of bread alone drove them to such a headlong plunge into sin through the vice of satiety, what should we think of those who, with vigorous bodies, dare to partake of meat and wine without restraint, taking not just what their bodily frailty demands, but what the eager desire of the mind suggests?

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 fullness of bread. Hear the Lord rebuking Jerusalem through the prophet. For how did your sister Sodom sin, except in that she ate her bread in fullness and abundance? Ezekiel 16:49 And because through fullness 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.

How bodily weakness need not interfere with purity of heart.

How bodily weakness need not interfere with purity of heart.

Bodily weakness is no obstacle to purity of heart, as long as a person takes only as much food as the bodily weakness requires, and not what pleasure demands. It is easier to find men who completely abstain from richer kinds of foods than men who use what is necessary for our needs with moderation; and easier to find men who deny themselves everything out of love for continence than men who, while taking food because of weakness, maintain the proper measure of what is sufficient. For bodily weakness has its own glory of self-restraint when, though food is permitted to the failing body, a man deprives himself of refreshment even though he needs it, and only takes as much food as the strict judgment of temperance determines to be sufficient for the necessities of life, and not what his craving appetite asks for. The more delicate foods, just as they contribute to bodily health, need not destroy the purity of chastity if they are taken in moderation. For whatever strength is gained by eating them is used up in the work and exhaustion of daily concerns. Therefore, just as no state of life can be deprived of the virtue of abstinence, so to none is the crown of perfection denied.

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. For bodily weakness has its glory of self-restraint, where though food is permitted to the failing body, a man deprives himself of his refreshment. although he needs it, and only indulges in just so much food as the strict judgment of temperance decides to be sufficient for the necessities of life, and not what the longing appetite asks for. The more delicate foods, as they conduce to bodily health, so they need not destroy the purity of chastity, if they are taken in moderation. For whatever strength is gained by partaking of them is used up in the toil and waste of care. Wherefore as no state of life can be deprived of the virtue of abstinence, so to none is the crown of perfection denied.

How food should be taken in relation to the goal of perfect continence.

How food should be taken with regard to the aim at perfect continence.

The Fathers' statement that the proper approach to fasting and abstinence lies in measured moderation and bodily discipline is truly excellent. The goal of perfect virtue for everyone is this: even though we are still compelled to desire food, we should exercise self-control regarding the food we must take to sustain our bodies. Even someone physically weak can achieve perfect virtue equal to that of the completely strong and healthy, if he firmly controls the desires and cravings that do not come from bodily weakness. The Apostle says: "And take not care for the flesh in its lusts" (Romans 13:14). He does not forbid all care for the flesh, but says we should not care for its desires and cravings. He removes self-indulgent attention to the flesh, but does not exclude the care necessary for life. He does the former so that pampering the flesh does not entangle us in dangerous desires; he does the latter so that we do not harm the body through our fault and make it unable to fulfill its spiritual and necessary duties.

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. Romans 13:14 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.

Concerning the extent of discipline to be undertaken, and the remedy of fasting.

Of the measure of the chastisement to be undertaken, and the remedy of fasting.

The perfection of abstinence cannot be determined by calculations of time alone, nor only by the type of food, but above all by the judgment of conscience. Each person should impose on himself the kind of limited diet that his bodily struggle requires. The canonical observance of fasts is certainly valuable and should definitely be kept. But unless this is followed by moderate eating, one will not be able to reach the goal of perfection. For the abstinence of prolonged fasts—when followed by overeating—produces weariness for a time rather than purity and chastity. Perfection of mind truly depends on restraint of the belly. A person has no lasting purity and chastity who is not content to always maintain a well-balanced and moderate diet. Fasting, however severe, becomes useless if unnecessary indulgence follows, and soon leads to the vice of gluttony. A reasonable amount of food eaten daily with moderation is better than a severe and long fast at intervals. Excessive fasting has been known not only to undermine the stability of the mind, but also to weaken the power of prayers through sheer physical exhaustion.

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.

That abstinence from food is not by itself sufficient for preserving purity of body and mind.

That abstinence from food is not of itself sufficient for preservation of bodily and mental purity.

To preserve the mind and body in a perfect condition, abstinence from food alone is not sufficient unless the other virtues of the mind are joined to it as well. And so humility must first be learned through the virtue of obedience, and through grinding toil 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 simply not to possess it—a situation that comes to many out 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 should be overcome; vainglory should be despised, the disdainfulness of pride trampled underfoot, and the shifting and wandering thoughts of the mind restrained by continual remembrance 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 effort to lead the mind away captive from this focus, creeps into the innermost recesses of the heart.

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 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.

Bodily desires are not eliminated except by completely removing vice at its root.

That bodily lusts are not extinguished except by the entire rooting out of vice.

It is impossible to extinguish the fiery motions of the body before the incentives of the other chief vices are completely rooted out. We will discuss these separately in different books in their proper place, if God permits. But now we must deal with Gluttony, that is, the desire of the palate, against which we fight our first battle. A person who cannot restrain the desires of the appetite will never be able to check the motions of burning lust. The chastity of the inner person is demonstrated by the perfection of this virtue. You can never be confident that someone can fight against a stronger enemy when you have seen him overcome by weaker ones in a less difficult conflict. The nature of all virtues is one and the same, although they appear to be divided into many different kinds and names, just as there is only one substance of gold, although it may seem to be distributed through many different kinds of jewelry according to the goldsmith's skill. Therefore, someone who is known to have broken down in some part of the virtues is proved to possess no virtue perfectly. How can we believe that a man has extinguished the burning heats of concupiscence, which are kindled not only by bodily incitement but by vice of the mind, when he could not calm the sharp stings of anger which break out from intemperance of heart alone? How can we think that someone has repressed the wanton desires of the flesh and spirit when he has not been able to conquer the simple fault of pride? How can we believe that someone has trampled under foot a wantonness which is ingrained in the flesh when he has not been able to renounce the love of money, which is something external and outside our own substance? In what way will someone triumph in the war of flesh and spirit when he has not been strong 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, it is still laid waste by the surrender of even one small postern. What difference does it make whether a dangerous foe enters the heart of the city over high walls and through the wide spaces of the gate, or through secret and narrow passages?

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?

In our spiritual struggle, we should take our example from physical contests.

That in our spiritual contest we ought to draw an example from the carnal contests.

Someone who competes in athletic contests is not crowned unless he has competed according to the rules. 2 Timothy 2:5 Anyone who wants to extinguish the natural desires of the flesh should first hurry to overcome those vices whose origin lies outside our nature. If we want to test the force of the Apostle's statement, we should first learn what the laws and discipline are in worldly contests, so that by comparing them we may finally understand what the blessed Apostle meant to teach us who are engaged in spiritual combat through this illustration. In these worldly conflicts, which, as the same Apostle says, offer a perishable crown 1 Corinthians 9:25 to the winners, this rule is observed: whoever aims to prepare himself for the crown of glory, which is adorned with the privilege of exemption, and who wants to enter the highest level of competition, should first demonstrate his abilities and developing strength as a young man in the Olympic and Pythian games. In these games, younger men who want to pursue this training are tested to determine whether they deserve or should be admitted to it, by the judgment of both the games' president and the entire crowd. When someone has been carefully examined and has first been proven to be stained by no disgraceful conduct in life, and then has been judged not to be ignoble through the burden of slavery—which would make him unworthy of admission to this training and to the company of those who practice it—and when third he produces sufficient evidence of his skill and prowess, and by competing with younger men and his peers has demonstrated both his technique and youthful valor, and advancing from boys' contests has been permitted by the president's scrutiny to compete with full-grown men and those of proven experience, and has not only shown himself their equal in courage through constant competition with them but has also often won the prize of victory among them, then at last he is allowed to approach the most distinguished contest of the games, which only victors and those decorated with many crowns and prizes are permitted to enter. If we understand this illustration from physical competition, we should use the comparison to learn what the system and method of our spiritual conflict is as well.

One who strives in the games is not crowned unless he has contended lawfully. 2 Timothy 2:5 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 1 Corinthians 9:25 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.

We cannot enter into the battle of the inner man unless we have been set free from the vice of gluttony.

That we cannot enter the battle of the inner man unless we have been set free from the vice of gluttony.

We must first demonstrate that we are free from being subject to the flesh. For a person is enslaved to whatever overcomes him. 2 Peter 2:19 And everyone who commits sin is a slave of sin. John 8:34 When the president of the contest examines us and finds that we are not stained by any disgrace of shameful lust, and when he judges that we are not slaves of the flesh—ignoble and unworthy of the Olympic struggle against our vices—then we will be able to enter the contest against our equals, that is, the lusts of the flesh and the movements and disturbances of the soul. For it is impossible for a full belly to engage in the combat of the inner man. Nor is anyone worthy to be tested in harder battles who can be overcome in a minor skirmish.

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. 2 Peter 2:19 And every one that does sin is the slave of sin. John 8:34 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.

How gluttonous desires can be overcome.

How gluttonous desires can be overcome.

First, we must trample underfoot gluttonous desires. To this end, the mind must be subdued not only by fasting, but also by vigils, by reading, and by frequent compunction of heart for those things in which it perhaps remembers being deceived or overcome—sighing at one time with horror at sin, at another time inflamed with the desire for perfection and holiness. This continues until the mind is fully occupied and possessed by such concerns and meditations, and recognizes that eating is not so much a concession to pleasure as a burden laid upon it. It should consider eating a necessity for the body rather than anything desirable for the soul. Preserved by this zeal of mind and continual compunction, we will beat down the wantonness of the flesh—which becomes more proud and haughty when nourished with food—and its dangerous incitement. By the abundance of our tears and the weeping of our heart, we will succeed in extinguishing the fiery furnace of our body, which is kindled by the Babylonish king who continually furnishes us with opportunities for sin and vices with which we burn more fiercely, instead of naphtha and pitch. This continues 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 is our first contest, our first trial in the Olympic games, so to speak—to extinguish the desires of the palate and the belly by the longing for perfection. For this reason, 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 with anxiety of heart, as if it were opposed to chastity. In this way we may eventually enter on the course of our life so that there is no time when we feel recalled from our spiritual studies, except when we are obliged by the weakness of the body to descend to its necessary care. When we are subjected to this necessity—attending to the needs of life rather than the desires of the soul—we should hasten to withdraw from it as quickly as possible, as if it kept us back from truly health-giving studies. We cannot possibly scorn the gratification of food presented to us unless the mind is fixed on the contemplation of divine things and is entranced with the love of virtue and the delight of heavenly things. Thus a person will despise all present things 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.

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 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.

How a monk must always be eager to preserve his purity of heart.

How a monk must always be eager to preserve his purity of heart.

It is like the case when someone tries to strike some lofty prize of virtue positioned high up, marked by a very small target. With the sharpest eyesight, he aims his dart, knowing that great rewards of glory and prizes depend on hitting it. He turns his gaze away from every other consideration and must direct it there, where he sees the reward and prize placed, because he would certainly lose the prize of his skill and the reward of his strength if the sharpness of his gaze were diverted even slightly.

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 there, 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.

Just as in the Olympic games, a monk should not attempt spiritual conflicts unless he has already won battles over the flesh.

How, after the fashion of the Olympic games, a monk should not attempt spiritual conflicts unless he has won battles over the flesh.

When we have conquered the desires of the belly and the palate through these considerations, and when we have been declared—as in the Olympic contests—neither slaves of the flesh nor disgraced by the mark of sin, we will be judged worthy to compete in higher struggles as well. Leaving behind lessons of this kind, we may be considered capable of entering the contest against spiritual wickednesses, against which only victors and those permitted to engage in spiritual conflict are deemed worthy to struggle. For this is, so to speak, the most solid foundation of all conflicts: that the impulses of fleshly desires should first be destroyed. No one can lawfully compete unless he has overcome his own flesh. And one who does not compete lawfully certainly cannot take part in the contest or win a crown of glory and the grace of victory. But if we have been defeated in this battle, having been proven to be slaves of fleshly lusts, and thus showing the marks neither of freedom nor of strength, we will immediately be rejected from the conflicts with spiritual hosts as unworthy and as slaves, with every mark of shame. For everyone who commits sin is the servant of sin. John 8:34 And the blessed Apostle will address this to us, along with those among whom fornication is named: Temptation does not overtake you, except such as is human. 1 Corinthians 10:13 For if we do not seek strength of mind, we will not deserve to undergo the more severe contest against wickedness on high, since 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 mood instead of the indicative mood, that is, Let no temptation overcome you, except such as is human. But it is clear that he spoke it rather with the meaning not of a wish but of a statement or rebuke.

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 does sin is the servant of sin. John 8:34 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. 1 Corinthians 10:13 For if we do not seek for strength of mind 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. But it is clear that it is rather said by him with the meaning not of a wish but of a declaration or rebuke.

The foundation and basis of spiritual combat must be established in the struggle against gluttony.

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 beats the air: but I chastise my body and bring it into subjection, lest by any means when I have preached to others I myself should be a castaway." You see how he made the chief part of the struggle depend upon himself, that is upon his flesh, as if on a most sure foundation, and placed the result of the battle simply in the chastisement of the flesh and the subjection of his body. "I then so run not as uncertainly." He does not run uncertainly, because, looking to the heavenly Jerusalem, he has a goal 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 goal for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus, towards which he constantly directs his mental focus, and hastening towards it with all speed of heart, proclaims with confidence, "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith." And because he knows he has run tirelessly after the fragrance of the ointment 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 so that he might open up to us also a similar 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"; 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." 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."

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 beats 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. 1 Corinthians 9:26-27 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, 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, Philippians 3:13-14 whither he ever directs his mental gaze, and hastening towards it with all speed of heart, proclaims with confidence, I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith. 2 Timothy 4:7 And because he knows he has run unweariedly after the odour of the ointment Song of Songs 1:3 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; 2 Timothy 4:8 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. John 14:23 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. Revelation 3:20

Concerning the number of different struggles and victories through which the blessed Apostle ascended to the crown of the highest combat.

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 his mind and the fervor of his spirit, in which he followed Christ with all zeal, crying out with the Bride, "We will run after you for the odor of your ointments" (Song of Songs 1:3), and again, "My soul clings to you." He also testifies that he has conquered in another kind of contest, saying, "So fight I, not as one that beats the air, but I chastise my body and bring it into subjection." This properly has to do with the labors of abstinence and bodily fasting and affliction of the flesh. By this he means that he is a vigorous striker of his own flesh, and he points out that he has not planted his blows of continence against it in vain, but that he has gained a battle triumph by putting his own body to death. For when his body 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 true method of the contest and consider the outcome of spiritual combats: how the athlete of Christ, having gained a victory over the rebellious flesh and having cast it under his feet, is carried forward as one triumphing on high. And therefore he does not run uncertainly, because he trusts that he will immediately enter the holy city, the heavenly Jerusalem. He so fights, that is with fasts and humiliation of the flesh, not as one that beats 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 beats 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" (Ephesians 6:12).

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 you for the odour of your ointments; Song of Songs 1:3 and again, My soul cleaves unto you: but he also testifies that he has conquered in another kind of contest, saying, So fight I, not as one that beats 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 immediately enter the holy city, the heavenly Jerusalem. He so fights, that is with fasts and humiliation of the flesh, not as one that beats 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 beats 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. Ephesians 6:12

The athlete of Christ, as long as he is in the body, is never without a battle.

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, never lacks a victory to win in contests. But in proportion to his growth through triumphant successes, he faces an even more severe kind of struggle. For when the flesh is subdued and conquered, what swarms of foes, what armies of enemies are stirred up by his triumphs and rise against the victorious soldier of Christ! This happens so that the soldier of Christ will not relax his efforts in the ease of peace and begin to forget the glorious struggles of his contests, becoming slack through the idleness that comes from being safe from danger, and thus be cheated of the reward of his prizes and the payment for his triumphs. And so if we want to rise with ever-growing virtue to these stages of triumph, we must also enter the contests of battle in the same way and begin by saying with the Apostle: I so fight, not as one that beats the air, but I discipline my body and bring it into subjection, so that when this conflict is ended we may once more be able to say with him: we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against world rulers of this darkness, against spiritual wickedness in heavenly places. For otherwise we cannot possibly join battle with them or deserve to engage in spiritual combats if we are defeated in a fleshly contest and struck down in a struggle with the belly. And deservedly the Apostle will say of us in the language of blame: Temptation does not overtake you, except what is common to man.

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 beats the air, but I chastise my body and bring it into subjection, 1 Corinthians 9:26-27 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. Ephesians 6:12 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. 1 Corinthians 10:13

How a monk should not go beyond the proper times for eating if he wants to advance to the struggle of interior conflicts.

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 who wants to proceed to the struggle of interior conflicts should therefore establish this as a basic safeguard for himself: he will not under any circumstances allow himself to be overcome by any delicacies or take anything to eat or drink before the fast is over and the proper hour for refreshment has come, outside meal times. Nor, when the meal is finished, will he allow himself to take even the smallest morsel. Likewise, he will observe the established time and measure of sleep. For this self-indulgence must be cut off in the same way that the sin of unchastity has to be rooted out. If a man is unable to check the unnecessary desires of his appetite, how will he be able to extinguish the fire of carnal lust? And if a man is not able to control passions that are openly visible and small, how will he be able to fight with temperate discretion against those that are secret and excite him when no one is watching? Therefore, strength of mind is tested in individual impulses and in every kind of passion. If it is overcome in the case of very small and visible desires, each man's conscience must witness for himself how it will endure in those that are truly great, powerful, and hidden.

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 is over and the proper hour for refreshment has come, outside meal times; 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.

On the inner peace of a monk and spiritual abstinence.

Of the inward peace of a monk, and of spiritual abstinence.

For it is not an external enemy that we have to fear. Our foe is locked up inside ourselves: we wage an internal battle daily, and if we are victorious in this, all external things will become weak, and everything will be made peaceful and subdued for the soldier of Christ. We will have no external enemy to fear if what is within is overcome and made subject to the spirit. And let us not think that an external fast from visible food alone can possibly be sufficient for perfection of heart and purity of body unless it is also joined with a fast of the soul. For the soul also has foods that are harmful; when fattened on these, even without excess of meat, it falls into wantonness. Slander is its food, and indeed one that is very appealing to it. An outburst of anger is also its food, even if it is very slight; yet it supplies the soul with wretched nourishment for a time and destroys it with its deadly taste. Envy is a food of the mind, corrupting it with its poisonous juices and never ceasing to make it wretched and miserable at another's prosperity and success. Kenodoxia, that is, vainglory, is its food, which satisfies it with a delicious meal for a time but afterward strips it completely bare of all virtue and leaves it barren and empty of all spiritual fruit, so that it not only causes the loss of rewards from great labors but also brings heavier punishments. All lust and restless wanderings of heart are a kind of food for the soul, nourishing it on harmful meals but afterward leaving it without any share of the heavenly bread and truly solid food. If then we abstain from these with all our strength in a most holy fast, our observance of the bodily fast will be both useful and profitable. For labor of the flesh, when joined with contrition of the spirit, will produce a sacrifice most acceptable to God and a worthy shrine of holiness in the pure and undefiled inner 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 at all, since the most precious part of us is defiled: for we go wrong through that substance by which we are made a shrine of the Holy Spirit. For it is not so much the corruptible flesh as the clean heart that is made a shrine for God and a temple of the Holy Spirit. Therefore, whenever the outward man fasts, we must also restrain the inner man from food that is bad for him: that inner man whom the blessed Apostle above all urges us to present pure before God, that he 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. Ephesians 3:16-17

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 within, saying that in the inner man Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. Ephesians 3:16-17

We should therefore practice bodily fasting so that through it we may achieve a spiritual fast.

That we should for this reason practise bodily abstinence that we may by it attain to a spiritual fast.

We know that we should give attention to bodily abstinence so that through this fasting we may attain purity of heart. Otherwise our efforts will be wasted if we endure this without complaint while focusing on the goal, but are unable to reach the goal for which we have endured such struggles. It would have been better to abstain from the forbidden foods of the soul than to fast bodily from things that are indifferent and harmless. In the case of these latter things, there is a simple and harmless reception of a creature of God, which has nothing wrong with it in itself. But in the case of the former, there is from the very start a dangerous tendency to devour the brethren, about which it is said, Do not love backbiting lest you be rooted out. Proverbs 20:13 And concerning anger and jealousy the blessed Job says: For anger slays a fool, and envy kills a child. Job 5:2 At the same time it should be noted that the one who is angered is called a fool, and the one who is jealous, a child. The former is rightly considered a fool, since he willingly brings death upon himself, being driven by the stings of anger. The latter, while he is envious, proves that he is a child and immature, for while he envies another he shows that the one whose prosperity troubles him is greater than himself.

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 you be rooted out. Proverbs 20:13 And concerning anger and jealousy the blessed Job says: For anger slays a fool, and envy kills a child. Job 5:2 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.

What the monk's food should be like.

What should be the character of the monk's food.

We should choose food that not only moderates the heat of burning lust and avoids stirring it up, but also is easy to prepare, inexpensive, and suitable for the brothers' common use in their shared life. The nature of gluttony has three forms: first, the kind that drives us to eat before the proper mealtime; second, the kind that delights in stuffing the stomach and gorging on all kinds of food; third, the kind that takes pleasure in more refined and delicate meals. A monk must therefore keep a threefold watch against it: first, he should wait until the proper time to break his fast; second, he should not give in to gorging; third, he should be content with any common types of food. Anything taken beyond what is customary and in common use by everyone is marked by the ancient tradition of the fathers as tainted with the sin of vanity, boasting, and ostentation. Among those we have seen who are deservedly distinguished for learning and discretion, or whom the grace of Christ has marked out as shining examples for everyone to imitate, we have never known any who abstained from eating bread, which is considered cheap and easily obtained among them. Nor have we seen anyone who rejected this practice, gave up eating bread, and turned instead to a diet of beans, herbs, or fruits ever be counted among the most respected or acquire the grace of knowledge and discretion. They teach not only that a monk should not request foods that are unusual for others, lest his way of life be exposed publicly to everyone and become vain and empty and thus be destroyed by the disease of vanity, but also that the common discipline of fasting should not be casually revealed to anyone but should be concealed and kept secret as much as possible. However, when any of the brothers arrive, they require that we demonstrate the virtues of kindness and charity instead of maintaining our severe abstinence and strict daily routine. We should not consider what our own wishes, benefit, or passionate desires may demand, but instead cheerfully set before them and provide whatever refreshment their need or weakness may require from us.

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, or his weakness may demand from us.

How in Egypt we saw that the daily fast was broken without hesitation upon our arrival.

How in Egypt we saw that the daily fast was broken without scruple on our arrival.

When we arrived from the region of Syria and reached the province of Egypt, wanting to learn the practices of the elders, we were amazed at the warm-hearted eagerness with which we were received there. No rule requiring us to wait until the appointed hour of fasting was over was observed, unlike what we had been taught to practice in the monasteries of Palestine. Except for the regular fast days of Wednesdays and Fridays, wherever we went the daily fast was broken. When we asked why they ignored the daily fast so freely, one of the elders answered: The opportunity for fasting is always available to me. But since I am going to accompany you on your journey, I cannot always keep you with me. Fasting, although it is useful and beneficial, is still a voluntary offering. But the demands of a command require that we fulfill a work of charity. So by receiving you, I am receiving Christ in you and ought to refresh Him. But when I have sent you on your way, I will be able to make up for the hospitality offered for His sake by fasting more strictly on my own. For the children of the bridegroom cannot fast while the bridegroom is with them, but when he has departed, then they will rightly fast.

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 was broken: and when we asked why the daily fast was thus ignored by them without scruple one of the elders replied: The opportunity for 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:' but when he has departed, then they will rightly fast.

Concerning an old man's self-discipline: he ate six times but so moderately that he remained hungry afterward.

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 urging me to eat a little more while I was having my meal, I said I couldn't. He replied: I have already set my table six times for different brothers who arrived, and urging each of them to eat, I ate with each one, and I'm still hungry. And yet you, who are eating for the first time today, say you can't eat any more?

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?

Concerning another old man who never ate food alone in his cell.

Of another old man, who never partook of food alone in his cell.

We have seen another monk who lived alone and said that he had never eaten food by himself. If no brothers came to his cell for five days in a row, he would continually postpone eating until Saturday or Sunday, when he went to church for worship. There he would find some stranger whom he immediately brought home to his cell, and together with that person he would take bodily refreshment—not so much because of his own needs, but for the sake of kindness and on account of his brother. And so, since they know that the daily fast is broken without hesitation when brothers arrive, when the brothers leave, they compensate for the refreshment that has been enjoyed on their account by practicing greater abstinence, and they strictly make up for receiving even a very small amount of food by imposing a harsher discipline on themselves, not only regarding bread, but also by reducing their usual amount of sleep.

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.

What the two Abbots Paesius and John said about the results of their zeal.

What the two Abbots Pæsius and John said of the fruits of their zeal.

When the aged John, who was the superior of a large monastery and many brothers, came to visit the aged Pæsius, who was living in a vast desert, he asked him as a very old friend what he had accomplished in all the forty years since they had been separated—years in which Pæsius had scarcely ever been disturbed in his solitude by the brothers. Pæsius replied, "The sun has never seen me eating." John responded, "Nor has it seen me angry."

When the aged John, who was superior of a large monastery and of a quantity of brethren, had come to visit the aged Pæsius, 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.

The lesson and example that Abbot John left to his disciples when he was dying.

The lesson and example which Abbot John when dying left to his disciples.

When the same old man was lying on his deathbed, ready to depart to his own, and the brothers were standing around him, they implored and begged him to leave them, as a kind of legacy, some special instruction by which they could reach the height of perfection more easily because of its brevity. He sighed and said, "I never did my own will, nor taught anyone what I had not first done myself."

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.

Concerning Abbot Machetes, who never fell asleep during spiritual discussions, but always dozed off during worldly conversations.

Of Abbot Machetes, who never slept during the spiritual conferences, but always went to sleep during earthly tales.

We knew an old man named Machetes who lived away from the crowds of the brethren and obtained this grace from the Lord through his daily prayers: whenever a spiritual conference was held, whether by day or night, he was never overcome by sleep at all. But if anyone tried to introduce a word of criticism or idle talk, he would immediately fall asleep, as if the poison of slander could not possibly reach and pollute his ears.

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.

A saying of the same old man about not judging anyone.

A saying of the same old man about not judging any one.

The same old man, when he was teaching us that no one should judge another, mentioned that there were three things for which he had criticized and rebuked the brothers: some had allowed their uvula to be cut off, some kept a cloak in their cell, or some blessed oil and gave it to people living in the world who asked for it. He said that he himself had done all these things. He explained: "Because I developed a disease of the uvula, I wasted away for so long through its weakness that finally I was driven by the severity of the pain and by the urging of all the elders to allow it to be cut off. I was also forced by this illness to keep a cloak. And I was compelled to bless oil and give it to those who asked for it—something I hated more than anything, since I thought it came from great arrogance—when suddenly many people living in the world surrounded me, so that I could not possibly escape them in any other way unless they forcibly extracted from me, with considerable pressure and pleas, that I would lay my hand on a vessel they offered and mark it with the sign of the cross. Believing they had obtained blessed oil, they finally let me go." He said: "Through these things I clearly discovered that a monk was in the same situation and caught up in the same faults for which he had dared to judge others. Each person therefore should only judge himself and be watchful, with care and attention in all things, not to judge the life and conduct of others, according to the Apostle's command: 'But you, why do you judge your brother? To his own master he stands or falls.' And this: 'Judge not, that you be not judged. For with what judgment you judge, you shall be judged.' For besides the reason we have mentioned, it is also dangerous to judge others because in those matters that offend us—since we do not know the necessity or the reason for which they are truly acting either rightly in God's sight or at least in a pardonable way—we are found to have judged them rashly, and in this we commit no small sin by forming an opinion of our brothers different from what we should."

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 you, why do you judge your brother? To his own master he stands or falls. And this: Judge not, that you be not judged. For with what judgment you judge, you shall be judged. 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.

The same old man rebuked the brethren when he saw how they fell asleep during the spiritual conferences, but woke up when some idle story was told.

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 demonstrated through this proof that it was the devil who promoted idle tales and constantly showed himself as the enemy of spiritual conferences. When he was speaking to some of the brothers about necessary matters and spiritual things, and saw that they were overcome with deep sleep and could not shake off the heaviness of sleep from their eyes, he suddenly brought up an idle tale. When he saw that they immediately woke up, delighted by it, and became alert, he groaned and said, "Until now we were speaking of heavenly things and all your eyes were overcome with deep sleep, but as soon as an idle tale was brought up, we all woke up and shook off the drowsiness of sleep that had overcome us. From this, therefore, consider who is the enemy of that spiritual conference and who has shown himself to be the one suggesting that useless and worldly talk. For it is most clearly shown that it is he who, rejoicing in evil, never stops encouraging the latter and opposing the former."

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.

Regarding the letters that were burned without being read.

Of the letters which were burnt without being read.

Nor do I think it less necessary to tell this story about a brother who was devoted to purity of heart and deeply concerned with the contemplation of divine things. After fifteen years, a large bundle of letters arrived for him from his father, mother, and many friends in the province of Pontus. When he received this huge packet of letters, he thought it over for some time and said, What thoughts will reading these create in me? They will stir up either pointless joy or useless sadness! For how many days will they pull my heart's attention away from the contemplation I have committed myself to, by making me remember those who wrote them! How long will it take for the mental disturbance they cause to settle down, and how much effort will it require to restore my former peaceful state, if my mind is once stirred by the feelings these letters provoke, and by recalling the words and faces of those I left so long ago, begins once more in thought and spirit to visit them, to live among them, and to be with them. And it will be useless to have left them physically if I begin to look at them with my heart and readmit and revive that memory which, when renouncing this world, everyone gave up as if they were dead. Thinking this over, he decided not only not to read a single letter but not even to open the packet, fearing that at the sight of the writers' names or upon recalling their faces, his spiritual resolve might weaken. And so he threw the whole thing into the fire to be burned, still tied up just as he had received it, crying out, Away, you thoughts of my home, be burned up, and try no more to recall me to those things from which I have fled.

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 you thoughts of my home, be burnt up, and try no further to recall me to those things from which I have fled.

Regarding how Abbot Theodore obtained the solution to a question through prayer.

Of the solution of a question which Abbot Theodore obtained by prayer.

We also knew Abbot Theodore, a man gifted with the greatest holiness and perfect knowledge, not only in practical life but also in understanding the Scriptures. He had acquired this knowledge not so much through study and reading or worldly education, but through purity of heart alone, since he could understand and speak only a very few words of the Greek language with difficulty. When this man was seeking an explanation of some extremely difficult question, he continued without ceasing for seven days and nights in prayer until he discovered the solution to the question through a revelation from the Lord.

We knew also Abbot Theodore, 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.

Concerning the teaching of the same elder, through which he showed by what efforts a monk can gain knowledge of the Scriptures.

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, when some of the brothers were amazed at the brilliant light of his knowledge and were asking him about the meanings of Scripture, said that a monk who wants to acquire knowledge of the Scriptures should not spend his effort on the works of commentators, but rather should keep all the efforts of his mind and intentions of his heart focused on purifying himself from fleshly vices. When these are driven out, the eyes of the heart will immediately begin to gaze naturally on the mysteries of Scripture, as if the veil of the passions had been removed. These mysteries were not declared to us by the grace of the Holy Spirit in order to remain unknown and obscure; rather, they are made obscure by our fault, since the veil of our sins covers the eyes of the heart. When the eyes of the heart are restored to their natural state of health, the simple reading of Holy Scripture is by itself fully sufficient for seeing the true knowledge, and they do not need the help of commentators—just as our physical eyes need no one to teach them how to see, provided they are free from cloudiness or the darkness of blindness. For this reason so many differences and errors have arisen among commentators: because most of them, paying no attention to purifying the mind, rush into the work of interpreting the Scriptures, and in proportion to the thickness or impurity of their heart, they form opinions that contradict each other and contradict the faith, and so they are unable to receive the light of truth.

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 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.

A rebuke from the same old man when he came to my cell in the middle of the night.

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 fatherly concern wanting to see what I—an inexperienced hermit as I was—might be doing by myself. When he found me there, having already finished my evening prayers and beginning to rest my tired body by lying down on a mat, he sighed deeply from his heart. Calling me by name, he said, "How many people, O John, are at this very hour conversing with God, embracing Him, and keeping Him with them, while you are deprived of such great light, weakened as you are by lazy sleep!"

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 led us to digress into a story like this, I think it good to record in this volume a remarkable act of charity that we experienced from the kindness of that most excellent man Archebius, so that the purity of self-control joined to a work of charity may shine forth more readily, being made beautiful with pleasing variety. For the practice of fasting is made acceptable to God when it is perfected by the fruits of charity.

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.

A description of the desert in Diolcos, where the anchorites live.

A description of the desert in Diolcos, where the anchorites live.

When we came as beginners from the monasteries of Palestine to an Egyptian city called Diolcos, we observed a large number of monks living under the discipline of the coenobium and trained in that excellent monastic system, which is also the earliest. However, we were also eager to see with complete wisdom of heart another system that is even better: that of the anchorites. We were motivated to do this by everyone's praises of it. These men had first lived for a very long time in coenobia and had carefully learned all the rules of patience and discretion. They had acquired the virtues of humility and renunciation and had completely overcome all their faults. In order to engage in the most fearful conflicts with demons, they penetrated the deepest parts of the desert. We found that men of this kind were living near the Nile River in a place that is surrounded on one side by the river itself and on the other by the open sea, forming an island that is inhabitable by no one except monks seeking such remote places. The saltiness of the soil and dryness of the sand make it unsuitable for any cultivation. We eagerly hurried to these men and were extremely astonished at the labors they endure in the contemplation of the virtues and in their love of solitude. They are hindered by such a scarcity of water that the care and precision with which they ration it is greater than any miser would use in preserving and hoarding the most precious kind of wine. They must carry water three miles or even farther from the bed of the river mentioned above for all necessary purposes. The distance, already great, is made twice as difficult by the sandy mountains in between.

And so when we had come, while still beginners, from the monasteries of Palestine, to a city of Egypt called Diolcos, and were contemplating a large number of monks bound by the discipline of the Cœnobium, 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 Cœnobia, and having diligently learned 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.

Concerning the cells that Abbot Archebius gave to us along with their furnishings.

Of the cells which Abbot Archebius gave up to us with their furniture.

Having seen this, we were filled with a desire to imitate them. Archebius, the most renowned among them for his gracious kindness, brought us into his cell. After learning of our desire, he pretended that he intended to leave the place and offered his cell to us as if he were departing, claiming that he would have done this even if we had not come. We, eager to remain there and placing complete trust in the claims of such a great man, readily agreed to this and took possession of his cell with all its furnishings and possessions. Having succeeded in his devout deception, he left the place for a few days to obtain the means for building a cell. After this he returned and with great effort constructed another cell for himself. A short time later, when other brothers arrived with the same desire to stay there, he tricked them with a similar charitable lie and gave up this cell along with everything in it. Tirelessly continuing in his charitable work, he built a third cell for himself to live in.

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.

The same Archebius paid off a debt that his mother owed by working with his own hands.

The same Archebius paid a debt of his mother's by the labour of his own hands.

It seems worthwhile to me to pass on another charitable deed by this same man, so that the monks of our region may learn from this one person's example how to maintain not only strict self-control but also the most genuine love. Though he came from a respectable family, he despised worldly affections and family ties even as a child and fled to the monastery located about four miles from the town mentioned earlier. He lived there his entire life in such a way that throughout fifty years he never once entered or even saw the village he came from, nor did he ever look at the face of any woman, not even his mother. Meanwhile, his father died and left behind a debt of one hundred gold coins. Although he himself was completely free from any legal obligation, having been disinherited from all his father's property, he discovered that his mother was being severely harassed by the creditors. Out of a sense of duty, he then somewhat relaxed that strict gospel severity by which he had previously refused to acknowledge having any earthly father or mother while his parents were well off. He now acknowledged his mother and hurried to help her in her distress, while not giving up any of the strict discipline he had adopted. Remaining inside the monastery walls, he asked that his usual work assignment be tripled. For an entire year, working day and night alike, he paid off the full debt to the creditors through his toil and labor, and freed his mother from all harassment and worry. He lifted the burden of debt from her in such a way that his commitment to the strict discipline he had set for himself was not weakened by his sense of family duty. In this way he preserved his customary austerities without ever denying his mother the help that duty required, for though he had once disregarded her for the love of Christ, he now acknowledged her again out of a sense of duty.

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 anything 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.

Concerning the plan of a certain old man by which some work was obtained for Abbot Simeon when he had nothing to do.

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 very dear to us named Simeon, a man completely ignorant of Greek, came from the region of Italy, one of the elders wanted to show him a work of charity as a stranger. Pretending that it would be mutually beneficial, he asked Simeon why he sat doing nothing in his cell. The elder guessed that Simeon would not be able to stay much longer because idleness produces wandering thoughts and because he lacked the necessities of life. The elder knew well that no one can endure the attacks that come in solitude except someone who is content to provide food for himself by working with his hands. When Simeon replied that he could not do or manage any of the tasks usually done by the brothers there, except write well, if anyone in Egypt wanted a Latin book for their use, the elder finally seized the opportunity to carry out his long-desired work of charity under the pretense that it would benefit both of them. He said: "This opportunity comes from God, because I was just looking for someone to write out the Epistles in Latin for me. I have a brother who is bound in the chains of military service and is a good Latin scholar, and I want to send him something from Scripture to read for his edification." So when Simeon gratefully accepted this as an opportunity offered to him by God, the old man also gladly seized the pretext through which he could freely carry out his work of charity. He immediately brought Simeon everything he could need for a whole year as a business matter, and also provided him with parchment and everything required for writing. Afterward he received the manuscript, which was not of the slightest use (since in those parts they were all completely ignorant of this language) and did no good to anyone except for the benefit that resulted from this scheme and large expenditure. Through it, the one brother procured his necessary food and sustenance without shame or confusion through the payment for his work and labor, while the other carried out his kindness and generosity as if compelled by a debt, securing for himself a more abundant reward proportioned to the zeal with which he provided his foreign brother not only with necessary food, but with writing materials and an opportunity to work.

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 color 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 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 color 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.

Regarding the boys who, while bringing figs to a sick man, died in the desert from hunger without having tasted them.

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 where we proposed to discuss the strictness of fasting and abstinence, acts of kindness and charitable deeds seem to have been mixed in, let us return to our original plan and include in this little book a remarkable story about some who were boys in age but not in character. Someone had brought some figs from Libya Mareotis to Abbot John, the steward in the desert of Scete, and this was a great surprise since such a thing had never been seen in those regions before. John, who managed the church in the days of the blessed Presbyter Paphnutius, by whom this responsibility had been entrusted to him, immediately sent the figs with two young boys to an elderly man who was sick and bedridden in the far reaches of the desert, about eighteen miles from the church. After receiving the fruit and setting out for the old man's cell, the boys completely lost their way—something that easily happens even to older people in that place—when a thick fog suddenly rolled in. After wandering all day and night through the trackless wilderness of the desert, unable to find the sick man's cell, they were finally overcome by exhaustion from their journey and from hunger and thirst. They knelt down and gave up their souls to God in the very act of prayer. Later, when they had been searched for by following their footprints—which in those sandy regions are imprinted as if in snow until a thin coating of sand blown by even a slight breeze covers them up again—it was discovered that they had kept the figs untouched, exactly as they had received them. They had chosen to give up their lives rather than abandon their faithfulness to their assignment, preferring to lose their earthly life rather than violate the commands of their elder.

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, 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, by whom it had been entrusted 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.

The saying of Abbot Macarius concerning the conduct of a monk: he should live both as one who will live for a long time and as one who is at the point of death every day.

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.

Here is one more valuable teaching from blessed Macarius that we should present, so that a saying from such a great man may conclude this book on fasting and self-control. He said that a monk should pay attention to his fasts as if he were going to live in the body for a hundred years, and at the same time should restrain the impulses of his soul and let go of injuries and reject sadness and dismiss sorrows and losses as if he were on the point of death every single day. In the first approach, careful judgment is useful and fitting because it helps a monk always to live with well-balanced care and prevents him from falling off dangerous cliffs because of a weakened body. In the second approach, spiritual courage is extremely valuable because it allows him not only to look down on the apparent success of this present world, but also to avoid being crushed by hardship and grief, and to treat these things as small and insignificant, since he keeps his mind's attention constantly focused on the place where he believes he will soon be called at any moment each day.

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 allow 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.

Concerning the training of those who renounce this world, and the way in which those who are received into the monasteries are taught among the monks of Tabenna and the Egyptians.

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.

Having discussed the canonical system of Psalms and prayers that should be observed in the daily services throughout the monasteries, we now move forward in our account to the training of those who renounce this world. We will first try to give a brief description of the conditions under which those who wish to turn to the Lord can be received into the monasteries. We will add some things from the rule of the Egyptians and some from the rule of the monks of Tabenna, whose monastery in the Thebaid is larger in numbers and stricter in its discipline than all others. There are more than five thousand brothers in it under the rule of one Abbot, and the obedience that this entire community of monks shows at all times to one Elder is greater than what any of us would give to another even for a short time, or would expect from him.

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, 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.

On the way in which among them men remain in the monasteries even to extreme old age.

Of the way in which among them men remain in the monasteries even to extreme old age.

I believe we should first address their tireless perseverance, humility, and submission—how these qualities endure for so long, and by what system they are developed, enabling them to remain in the monasteries until they are stooped with old age. These qualities are so remarkable that we cannot remember anyone who joined our monasteries maintaining them unbroken even for a year. By observing the beginning of their renunciation of the world, we will understand how they were able to reach such a height of perfection from such a starting point.

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.

Concerning the trial by which someone who is to be received into the monastery is tested.

Of the ordeal by which one who is to be received in the monastery is tested.

Someone who seeks to be admitted to the discipline of the monastery is never received before he demonstrates his perseverance and desire, as well as his humility and patience, by lying outside the doors for ten days or even longer. Prostrate at the feet of all the brothers who pass by, and deliberately rejected and scorned by all of them as if he wanted to enter the monastery not for religious reasons but out of necessity, and having endured many insults and affronts, he must give practical proof of his steadfastness and show what he will be like in temptations by the way he has endured the disgrace. Once the fervor of his soul has been confirmed in this way and he is admitted, they then investigate with the greatest care whether he is tainted by even a single coin from his former possessions clinging to him. For they know that he cannot remain long under the discipline of the monastery, nor ever learn the virtue of humility and obedience, nor be content with the poverty and harsh life of the monastery, if he knows that even the smallest sum of money has been kept hidden. Rather, as soon as a disturbance arises for whatever reason, he will immediately flee from the monastery like a stone from a sling, driven to do so by his reliance on that sum of money.

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 hidden; 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.

The reason why those who are received into the monastery are not permitted to bring anything in with them.

The reason why those who are received in the monastery are not allowed to bring anything in with them.

For these reasons they do not agree to take money from him even for the benefit of the monastery. First, he might become puffed up with arrogance because of this offering and not consider himself equal to the poorer brothers. Second, this pride might prevent him from submitting to the humility of Christ, and when he cannot endure the monastery's discipline and leaves, he might later—after cooling down—want in a bad spirit to reclaim what he had contributed in the early days of his renunciation when he was filled with spiritual fervor. This would cause loss to the monastery. They have been taught to maintain this rule consistently through many examples. In some monasteries where they are less careful about this, some who were received without restriction have later tried most sacrilegiously to demand back what they had contributed and which had been spent on God's work.

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.

The reason why those who renounce the world, when they are received into the monasteries, must remove their own clothes and be clothed in different ones by the Abbot.

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.

When someone is admitted to the monastery, he is stripped of all his former possessions, so that he is not even allowed to keep the clothes he is wearing. Instead, he is brought forward into the assembly of the brothers and stripped of his own clothes, and the Abbot clothes him with his own hands in the monastery's garments. This shows him not only that he has been deprived of all his old belongings, but also that he has put aside all worldly pride and descended to the neediness and poverty of Christ. From now on, he will be supported not by wealth obtained through worldly pursuits, nor by anything he kept from his former life of unbelief, but will receive his provisions for his service from the monastery's holy and sacred resources. Since he knows he will be clothed and fed from this source and has nothing of his own, he should learn not to be anxious about tomorrow, as the Gospel says, and should not be ashamed to be equal with the poor—that is, with the community of brothers—among whom Christ was not ashamed to be numbered and whom he called his brothers. Rather, he should take pride in being made to share the condition of Christ's own servants.

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.

The reason why the steward preserves the clothes that the renunciants wore when they joined the monastery.

The reason why the clothes of the renunciants with which they joined the monastery are preserved by the steward.

The clothes he set aside are given to the steward for safekeeping until, through various temptations and trials, they can assess the quality of his progress, life, and endurance. If they see that he can continue in this way as time passes and maintain the same enthusiasm with which he began, they give the clothes to the poor. But if they find that he has committed any fault of complaining or even the slightest act of disobedience, they remove from him the monastic clothing he had been wearing, dress him again in his old clothes that had been confiscated, and send him away. For it is not right for him to leave with the clothes he had received, nor do they allow anyone to continue wearing them once they have seen him lose his commitment to the rule of their community. Therefore, no one is given permission to leave openly, unless he runs away like a fugitive slave under cover of the darkest night, or is judged unworthy of this order and calling and removes the monastic clothing and is expelled in shame and disgrace before all the brethren.

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. 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.

The reason why those who are admitted to a monastery are not permitted to mix immediately with the congregation of the brethren, but are first assigned to the guesthouse.

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 house.

When someone has been received and tested through the persistence we have spoken of, and has laid aside his own clothes and been dressed in the monastery's garments, he is not allowed to mix immediately with the congregation of the brethren. Instead, he is placed under the care of an Elder who lives separately, not far from the monastery's entrance, and is responsible for strangers and guests, devoting all his attention to receiving them kindly. After serving there for a full year without any complaint and demonstrating service toward strangers, he is thus trained in the first elements of humility and patience. Once his long practice in this has been recognized and he is to be admitted into the congregation of the brethren, he is handed over to another Elder who is in charge of ten junior monks. These are entrusted to him by the Abbot, and he both teaches and governs them according to the arrangement we read about in Exodus that was made by Moses.

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, 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.

Regarding the practices in which beginners are first trained so they may become skilled at overcoming all their desires.

Of the practices in which the juniors are first exercised that they may become proficient in overcoming all their desires.

His primary concern and the main part of his teaching—through which the younger monks brought to him may eventually be able to rise to the greatest heights of perfection—will be to teach them first to conquer their own desires. He will anxiously and carefully train them in this by deliberately giving them orders that he knows are contrary to what they want. Taught by many examples, they say that a monk, especially the younger ones, cannot control the desire of his concupiscence unless he has first learned through obedience to mortify his desires. Therefore they establish that a person who has not first learned 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 stable and continuous harmony. Nor can he remain for any length of time in the monastery.

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 learned by obedience to mortify his wishes. And so they lay it down that the man who has not first learned 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.

The reason why younger monks are instructed not to hide any of their thoughts from the elder.

The reason why the juniors are enjoined not to keep back any of their thoughts from the senior.

By these practices, then, they hurry to impress upon and instruct those they are training with what amounts to the alphabet and first syllables in the direction of perfection, since they can clearly see from these whether the trainees are grounded in a false and imaginary humility or in a true one. And so that they may easily arrive at this goal, they are next taught not to conceal any troubling thoughts in their hearts out of false shame, but as soon as such thoughts arise, to reveal them to the senior. In forming a judgment about these thoughts, they are not to trust anything to their own discretion, but to accept on trust that what the senior's examination considers and pronounces to be good or bad is indeed so. The result is that our cunning adversary cannot in any way deceive a young and inexperienced monk or get the better of his ignorance, nor can he use any trick to mislead someone whom he sees is protected not by his own discretion but by the senior's. The devil cannot persuade such a monk to hide from his senior those suggestions which the devil has shot into his heart like fiery darts, since the devil, subtle as he is, cannot ruin or destroy a junior monk unless he has enticed him through either pride or shame to conceal his thoughts. For they lay down as a universal and clear proof that a thought is from the devil if we are ashamed to disclose it to 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.

How complete is the obedience of the younger monks even in those things that are matters of common necessity.

How thorough is the obedience of the juniors even in those things which are matters of common necessity.

The rule is kept with such strict obedience that the juniors do not dare to leave their cell without the knowledge and permission of their superior. They do not even venture on their own authority to satisfy their common and natural needs. They are quick to fulfill without any discussion everything their superior orders, as if God from heaven had commanded it. Sometimes, when impossible things are commanded, they undertake them with such faith and devotion that they strive with all their strength and without the slightest hesitation to fulfill and carry them out. Out of reverence for their senior, they do not even consider whether a command is impossible. But I will not speak more specifically about their obedience right now, since I plan to discuss it in the proper place a little later with examples, if the Lord carries us safely through with your prayers. We now move on to the other regulations, passing over any account of those which cannot be imposed on or kept in the monasteries in this country, as I promised to do in the Preface. For instance, they never use woolen garments, but only cotton ones, and these are not doubled. The superior gives out changes of clothing to the ten monks under his care when he sees that what they are wearing is dirty.

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; 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. 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.

The type of food that they consider to be the greatest delicacy.

The kind of food which is considered the greater delicacy by them.

I will also pass over that difficult and exalted form of self-control in which it is considered the greatest luxury if the plant called cherlock, prepared with salt and soaked in water, is served at the brothers' meal. I will skip over many other similar practices which neither the climate nor the frailty of our physical constitution would allow in this region. I will focus only on those matters that cannot be prevented by any bodily weakness or local conditions, as long as no weakness of mind or coldness of spirit abandons 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, 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.

How they stop every kind of work at the sound of someone knocking at the door, in their eagerness to answer at once.

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.

So when they are sitting in their cells and devoting their energies equally to work and to meditation, and they hear the sound of someone knocking at the door and striking on each person's cell, summoning them to prayer or some work, everyone eagerly rushes out from his cell. Even someone who is practicing the writer's art, though 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 the sound of the knocking reaches his ears, without even waiting to complete the letter he has begun. Instead, leaving the lines of the letter incomplete, he does not aim to shorten and save his labor, but rather hurries with the utmost earnestness and zeal to attain the virtue of obedience, which they place not merely before manual labor and reading and silence and quietness in the cell, but even before all virtues. They consider that everything should be postponed to it, and they are content to undergo any amount of inconvenience if only it may be seen that they have in no way neglected this virtue.

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.

How wrong it is considered for anyone to say that anything, no matter how trifling, is his own.

How wrong it is considered for any one to say that anything, however trifling, is his own.

Among their other practices, I think it is unnecessary even to mention this virtue: 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. We are well aware that they are stripped so completely that they have nothing at all except their shirt, cloak, shoes, sheepskin, and rush mat. In other monasteries as well, where some indulgence and relaxation is permitted, we see that this rule is still very strictly kept, so that no one dares to say even in words that anything is his own. It is a serious offense if such an expression as "my book," "my tablets," "my pen," "my coat," or "my shoes" slips from a monk's mouth, and for this he would have to make satisfaction by a proper penance if by chance some such expression escaped his lips through carelessness or ignorance.

Among their other practices I fancy that it is unnecessary even to mention this virtue, viz., that no one is allowed to possess a box or basket as his special property, nor any such thing which he could keep as his own and secure with his own seal, as we are well aware that they are in all respects stripped so bare that they have nothing whatever except their shirt, cloak, shoes, sheepskin, and rush mat; for in other monasteries as well, where some indulgence and relaxation is granted, we see that this rule is still most strictly kept, so that no one ventures to say even in word that anything is his own: and it is a great offense 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.

How, even if a large sum of money is gathered through each person's labor, no one may dare to go beyond the moderate limit of what has been established as sufficient.

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 through his work and labor such a great return to the monastery that he could from it not only satisfy his own moderate needs but could also abundantly supply the needs of many, yet he is in no way puffed up, nor does he flatter himself because of his toil and this large gain from his labor. Apart from two biscuits, which are sold there for scarcely threepence, no one thinks he has a right to anything more. And among them there is nothing (and I am ashamed to say this, and heartily wish it were unknown in our own monasteries) which is claimed by any of them—I will not say in deed but even in thought—as his own special property. And though he believes that the whole granary of the monastery forms his livelihood, and, as lord of all, devotes his whole care and energy to it all, yet nevertheless, in order to maintain that excellent state of need 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.

And although each one of them may bring in daily by his work and labour so great a return to the monastery that he could out of it not only satisfy his own moderate demands but could also abundantly supply the wants of many, yet he is no way puffed up, nor does he flatter himself on account of his toil and this large gain from his labour, but, except two biscuits, which are sold there for scarcely threepence, no one thinks that he has a right to anything further. And among them there is nothing (and I am ashamed to say this, and heartily wish it was unknown in our own 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.

Of the excessive desire for possessions among us.

Of the excessive desire of possession among us.

To this, what can we wretched people say? We live in monasteries and are established under the government and care of an abbot, yet we carry our own keys. Trampling underfoot all the shame and disgrace that should come from our profession, we are not ashamed to openly wear rings on our fingers to seal what we have stored up. Not only boxes and baskets, but even chests and closets are not enough for the things we collect or kept back when we renounced the world. We sometimes get so angry over trivial and worthless things—which we nevertheless claim as our own—that if anyone dares to touch any of them, we become so filled with rage that we cannot keep the anger in our hearts from showing itself in our words and physical agitation. But, passing over our faults and treating with silence those things which are shameful even to mention, according to this saying: "My mouth shall not speak the deeds of men," let us follow the method of narration we have begun and proceed to those virtues practiced among them, which we ought to pursue with all earnestness. Let us briefly and quickly set down the actual rules and systems so that afterward, coming to some of the deeds and acts of the elders which we intend to carefully preserve for remembrance, we may support with the strongest testimonies what we have presented in our treatise, and further confirm everything we have said by examples and instances from life.

To this what shall we wretched creatures say, who though living in Cœnobia 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, 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.

On the Rules for Various Rebukes

On the rules for various rebukes.

If someone accidentally breaks an earthenware jar (which they call a baucalis), he can only make up for his carelessness through public penance. When all the brothers are gathered for the service, he must lie on the ground and ask for forgiveness until the prayers are finished, and he will receive it when the Abbot commands him to rise from the ground. The same satisfaction must be given by someone who arrives rather late when called to some work or to the usual service, or who hesitates even slightly when singing a Psalm. The same applies if he answers unnecessarily or roughly or disrespectfully, if he is careless in carrying out the tasks assigned to him, if he makes even a slight complaint, if he is slow in performing his appointed duties because he prefers reading to work or obedience, if he does not hurry back to his cell immediately when service is over, if he stops for even a short time with someone else, if he goes anywhere else even for a moment, if he takes anyone else by the hand, if he dares to discuss anything however small with someone who is not his cellmate, if he prays with someone who is suspended from prayer, if he sees any of his relatives or friends from the world and talks with them without his superior's permission, if he tries to receive a letter from anyone or to write back without his Abbot's permission. Spiritual discipline extends to such matters and faults like these. But as for other things which, when committed indiscriminately among us, are also treated by us as blameworthy—namely: open quarreling, obvious contempt, arrogant contradictions, freely leaving the monastery without restraint, familiarity with women, anger, fighting, jealousies, disputes, claiming something as one's own property, the infection of greed, the desire and acquisition of unnecessary things that the other brothers do not possess, taking food between meals and secretly, and things like these—these are dealt with not by that spiritual discipline we spoke of, but by beatings, or are atoned for by expulsion.

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, if he prays with one who is suspended from prayer, if he sees any of his relations or friends in the world and talks with them without his senior, if he tries to receive a letter from any one or to write back without his Abbot's leave. To such an extent does spiritual censure proceed and in such matters and faults like these. But as for other things which when indiscriminately committed among us are treated by us too as blameworthy, viz.: open wrangling, manifest contempt, arrogant contradictions, going out from the monastery freely and without check, familiarity with women, wrath, quarrelling, jealousies, disputes, claiming something as 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.

Concerning those who introduced the practice that the holy Scriptures should be read in the monasteries while the brothers are eating, and concerning the strict silence that is maintained among the Egyptians.

Of those who introduced the plan that the holy Lessons should be read in the Cœnobia while the brethren are eating, and of the strict silence which is kept among the Egyptians.

But we have been informed that the practice of reading the holy lessons while the brethren are eating in the monasteries did not originate in the Egyptian system but in the Cappadocian. And there is no doubt that they intended to establish it not so much for spiritual training as to stop unnecessary and idle conversation, and especially arguments, which so often arise at meals. They saw that these could not be prevented among them in any other way. For among the Egyptians, and especially those of Tabenna, such strict silence is observed by everyone that when so large a number of brethren has sat down together to eat, no one dares to talk even in a low voice except the dean. However, if he sees that anything needs to be put on or taken off the table, he indicates it with a gesture rather than a word. And while they are eating, the rule of this silence is kept so strictly that with their hoods drawn down over their eyelids to prevent their wandering eyes from having the opportunity to look around inquisitively, they can see nothing except the table and the food that is placed on it and which they take from it, so that no one notices what another is eating.

But we have been informed that the plan that, while the brethren are eating, the holy lessons should be read in the Cœnobia 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. 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.

How it is against the rule for anyone to take anything to eat or drink except at the common table.

How it is against the rule for any one to take anything to eat or drink except at the common table.

Between their regular common meals, they are especially careful that no one should presume to gratify his appetite with any food. So when they walk casually through gardens or orchards, where fruit hanging enticingly on the trees not only brushes against their chests as they pass through but also lies on the ground offering itself to be trampled underfoot, and where (since it is all ready to be gathered) it could easily entice those who see it to satisfy their appetite, and through the opportunity presented and the abundance of fruit, excite even the strictest and most abstemious to desire it—still they consider it wrong not merely to taste a single piece of fruit, but even to touch one with their hand, except what is placed on the table openly for the common meal of all and supplied publicly by the steward's provision through the service of the brothers for their enjoyment.

In between their regular meals in common they are especially careful that no one should presume to gratify his palate with any food: so that when they are walking casually through gardens or orchards, when the fruit hanging enticingly on the trees not only knocks against their breasts as they pass through, but is also lying on the ground and offering itself to be trampled under foot, and (as it is all ready to be gathered) would easily be able to entice those who see it to gratify their appetite, and by the chance offered to them and the quantity of the fruit, to excite even the most severe and abstemious to long for it; still they consider it wrong not merely to taste a single fruit, but even to touch one with the hand, except what is put on the table openly for the common meal of all, and supplied publicly by the steward's catering through the service of the brethren, for their enjoyment.

How throughout Palestine and Mesopotamia a daily service is undertaken by the brethren.

How throughout Palestine and Mesopotamia a daily service is undertaken by the brethren.

To avoid leaving out any of the practices of the monastic communities, I think it's worth briefly mentioning that in other countries as well, the brothers maintain a daily service. Throughout all of Mesopotamia, Palestine, Cappadocia, and the entire East, the brothers take turns each week performing certain duties, with the number serving determined by the total number of monks in the community. They carry out these duties with such zeal and humility that no slave shows this level of service even to the harshest and most powerful master. Not content with only the services required by the canonical rule, they actually get up at night in their zeal to help those whose specific duty it is, and secretly go ahead of them to complete the tasks those others would have had to do. Each person who takes on these weekly duties serves until supper on Sunday, and when that meal is finished, his duty for the entire week is complete. Then, when all the brothers gather to chant the Psalms (which they customarily sing before going to bed), those whose turn has ended wash the feet of everyone in turn, faithfully seeking from them the reward of this blessing for their week's work—namely, that the prayers offered up together by all the brothers may accompany them as they fulfill Christ's command, the prayer that intercedes for their ignorances and for sins committed through human weakness, and may commend to God their complete devotional service like a rich offering. So on Monday after the morning hymns, they hand over to the others who replace them the vessels and utensils they have used in their ministry. Those who receive them keep them with the utmost care and concern, so that none of them may be damaged or destroyed, since they believe they must give an account for even the smallest vessels as sacred objects, not only to the present steward but to the Lord, if any are damaged through their carelessness. You can see from one example I'll give just how strictly this discipline is maintained and how faithfully and carefully it is kept. For while we want to satisfy your enthusiasm, which leads you to ask for a full account of everything and to have even what you already know perfectly well repeated in this treatise, we're also concerned about exceeding the proper limits of brevity.

In order that we may not appear to omit any of the Institutes of the Cœnobia 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 Cœnobium. 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.

Concerning the three lentil beans that the Steward discovered.

Of the three lentil beans which the Steward found.

During the week when a certain brother was serving, the steward happened to pass by and saw three lentil beans lying on the ground. These had slipped from the hand of the monk on duty for the week as he was hurriedly preparing them for cooking, along with the water in which he was washing them. The steward immediately brought this matter to the abbot, who judged the monk to be a thief and careless with sacred property, and so suspended him from prayer. The offense of his negligence was only pardoned after he had made amends for it through public penance. For they believe not only that they themselves do not belong to themselves, but also that everything they possess is consecrated to the Lord. Therefore, if anything whatsoever has once been brought into the monastery, they hold that it must be treated with the greatest reverence as a holy thing. They handle and arrange everything with great faithfulness, even in the case of things considered unimportant or regarded as common and worthless, so that if they change something's position and put it in a better place, or if they fill a bottle with water, or give someone something to drink from it, or if they remove a little dust from the oratory or from their cell, they believe with complete faith that they will receive a reward from the Lord.

During the week of a certain brother the steward passing by saw lying on the ground three lentil beans which had slipped out of the hand of the monk on duty for the week as he was hastily preparing them for cooking, together with the water in which he was 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 offense 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.

On the Voluntary Service of Some of the Brothers.

Of the spontaneous service of some of the brethren.

We have heard of brethren whose week of service faced such a shortage of wood that they did not have enough to prepare the usual food for the community. The Abbot ordered them to make do with uncooked food until more wood could be brought and gathered. Everyone agreed to this, and no one could expect cooked meals. Yet these men felt as though they were being robbed of the fruit and reward of their labor and service if they did not prepare food for their brethren in the customary way during their assigned turn. They took on this unnecessary labor and concern: in those dry and barren regions where wood cannot possibly be obtained unless cut from fruit trees (since there are no wild shrubs there as we have), they wandered through the vast deserts, traveling across the wilderness that extends toward the Dead Sea. They gathered in their laps and the folds of their clothing the sparse stubble and brambles that the wind scattered here and there. Through this voluntary service, they prepared all the usual food for the brethren, ensuring that nothing was taken away from the ordinary provision. They carried out these duties toward their brethren with such faithfulness that although the wood shortage and the Abbot's order gave them a legitimate excuse, they still refused to take advantage of this permission out of concern for their own spiritual profit and reward.

We have been told of brethren in whose week there was such a scarcity of wood that they had not enough to prepare the usual food for the brethren; and when it had been ordered by the Abbot's authority that until more could be brought and fetched, they should content themselves with dried food, though this was agreed to by all and no one could expect any cooked food; still these men as if they were cheated of the fruit and reward of their labour and service, if they did not prepare the food for their brethren according to custom in the order of their turn — imposed upon themselves such uncalled-for labour and care that in those dry and sterile regions where wood cannot possibly be procured 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, collect in their lap and the folds of their dress the scanty stubble and brambles which the wind carries hither and there, 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.

The system of the Egyptians, which is established for the daily service of the brothers.

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 we also say should be observed as a matter of course in our own country. But among the Egyptians, whose chief concern is for work, there is no rotation of weekly service, for fear that the demands of office might hinder everyone from keeping the rule of work. Instead, one of the most approved brothers is given responsibility for the pantry and kitchen, and he holds that office permanently as long as his strength and age allow. For he is not worn out by great physical labor, because no great effort is spent among them in preparing or cooking food, since they rely so heavily on dried and uncooked food. Among them, leek leaves cut each month, along with cherlock, table salt, olives, and tiny little salt fish which they call sardines, form the greatest delicacy.

These things have been told in accordance with the system, as we remarked before, of the whole East, which also we say should be observed as a matter of course in our own country. But among the Egyptians whose chief care is for work there is not the mutual change of weekly service, for fear lest owing to the requirements of office they might all be hindered from keeping the rule of work. But one of the most approved brethren is given the care of the larder and kitchen, and he takes charge of that office for good and all as long as his strength and years permit. For he is exhausted by no great bodily labour, because no great care is expended among them in preparing food or in cooking, as they so largely make use of dried and uncooked food, and among them the leaves of leeks cut each month, and cherlock, table salt, olives, tiny little salt fish which they call sardines, form the greatest delicacy.

The obedience of Abbot John, through which he was raised up even to the grace of prophecy.

The obedience of Abbot John by which he was exalted even to the grace of prophecy.

Since this book is about training someone who renounces the world—how, by starting with true humility and perfect obedience, he can go on to reach the heights of other virtues as well—I think it is good to include some examples of the deeds of the elders by which they excelled in this virtue, as we promised. I will select just a few cases out of many, so that if anyone desires to aim for even greater heights, they can not only receive encouragement toward the perfect life from these examples, but can also have a model of what they intend to pursue. Therefore, to keep this book as short as possible, we will present and record two or three examples from among all the Fathers. First of all is Abbot John, who lived near Lycon, a town in the Thebaid. He was raised even to the grace of prophecy because of his remarkable obedience, and became so famous throughout the whole world that through his merits he became renowned even among earthly kings. For although, as we said, he lived in the most remote parts of the Thebaid, the Emperor Theodosius still did not dare to declare war against the most powerful tyrants before being encouraged by his words and answers. Trusting in these as if they had been brought to him from heaven, he gained victories over his enemies in battles that seemed hopeless.

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 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.

Of the dry stick which, at the command of his elder, Abbot John kept watering as if it would grow.

Of the dry stick which, at the bidding of his senior, Abbot John kept on watering as if it would grow.

This blessed John, from his youth until full maturity, was subject to his elder as long as the elder lived, and carried out his commands with such humility that the elder himself was utterly amazed at his obedience. Because the elder wanted to verify whether this virtue came from genuine faith and deep simplicity of heart, or whether it was merely pretended and forced, only displayed in the presence of the one giving commands, he often gave him many unnecessary and almost pointless or even impossible tasks. From these I will select three examples to show those who want to know how perfect his attitude and submission were. The old man took from his woodpile a stick that had been cut and prepared earlier for making fire, which had been lying around unused for so long that it was not just dry but moldy from the passage of time. He stuck it into the ground right in front of John and ordered him to bring water and water it twice a day so that through this daily watering it might take root and come back to life as a tree, as it had been before, spreading out its branches and providing a pleasant sight for the eyes as well as shade for those sitting under it in the summer heat. The young man received this order with his usual reverence, never questioning its impossibility, and day after day carried it out, constantly hauling water for nearly two miles and never stopping his watering of the stick. For an entire year, no physical illness, no festival services, no necessary business that might reasonably have excused him from carrying out the command, and finally no harsh winter weather could interfere with or prevent him from obeying this order. The old man secretly watched his dedication for several days without saying anything and saw that he kept this command with sincere willingness of heart, as if it had come from heaven, without any change of expression or thought about whether it made sense. Approving the genuine obedience shown by his humility and at the same time feeling compassion for his tedious labor, which in his devoted zeal he had continued for a whole year, the old man came to the dry stick and said, "John, has this tree put down roots or not?" When John said he did not know, the old man, as if seeking the truth of the matter and testing whether it was yet held by its roots, pulled up the stick in front of him with a slight disturbance of the earth, threw it away, and told him that from now on he could stop watering it.

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.

Of the unique vase of oil thrown away by Abbot John at his senior's command.

Of the unique vase of oil thrown away by Abbot John at his senior's command.

The young man, trained through exercises of this kind, grew daily in this virtue of obedience and shone forth more and more with the grace of humility. When the sweet fragrance of his obedience spread throughout all the monasteries, some of the brothers came to the elder either to test him or rather to be edified by him, and they marveled at his obedience about which they had heard. The elder suddenly called him and said, "Go up and take this jar of oil"—which was the only one in the desert and provided a very meager supply of the precious liquid for their own use and for visitors—"and throw it out the window." When summoned, he rushed upstairs and threw it out the window, casting it to the ground and breaking it into pieces without any thought or consideration of the foolishness of the command, their daily needs, bodily weakness, their poverty, or the hardships and difficulties of the harsh desert where, even if they had money for it, oil of that quality, once lost, could not be obtained or replaced.

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 (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.

How Abbot John obeyed his elder by trying to roll a huge stone that a large number of men were unable to move.

How Abbot John obeyed his senior by trying to roll a huge stone, which a large number of men were unable to move.

When some other people wanted to learn from his example of obedience, the elder called him and said: John, run and roll that stone over here as quickly as possible. He immediately used his neck and then his whole body, trying with all his strength to roll an enormous stone that a large crowd of men would not be able to move. Not only were his clothes soaked with sweat from his body, but the stone itself was wetted by his neck. In doing this, he never considered how impossible the command and task were, because of his reverence for the old man and the genuine simplicity of his service, since he believed completely that the old man could not command him to do anything pointless or without reason.

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 immediately, 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.

Concerning the humility and obedience of Abbot Patermucius, which he did not hesitate to make complete by throwing his little boy into the river at the command of his superior.

Of the humility and obedience of Abbot Patermucius, which he did not hesitate to make perfect by throwing his little boy into the river at the command of his senior.

I have already told you a few stories out of many concerning Abbot John. Now I will share a memorable deed of Abbot Patermucius. When he wanted to renounce the world, he lay for a long time outside the monastery doors until his persistent determination convinced them to receive him together with his little son, who was about eight years old—contrary to all the rules of the community. When they were finally admitted, they were immediately placed under the care of different supervisors and assigned to separate cells. This was so that the father would not be constantly reminded by seeing his child that, out of all his possessions and earthly treasures he had given up and renounced, at least his son still remained to him. Just as he was already learning that he was no longer a wealthy man, so too he might forget that he was a father. To test more thoroughly whether he would value affection and love for his own flesh and blood more than obedience and Christian self-denial—which all who renounce the world should prefer out of love for Christ—the child was deliberately neglected and dressed in rags instead of proper clothes. He was so covered and disfigured with dirt that he would disgust rather than delight his father's eyes whenever he saw him. Moreover, the child was subjected to blows and slaps from different people. The father often saw these inflicted without any reason on his innocent child right before his eyes, and he never saw his son's cheeks without dirty tear stains. Although the child was treated this way day after day before his eyes, the father's heart remained firm and unmoved out of love for Christ and the virtue of obedience. He no longer regarded the boy as his own son, since he had offered him equally with himself to Christ. He was not concerned about his present sufferings but rather rejoiced because he saw they were endured with profit. He gave little thought to his son's tears but was anxious about his own humility and perfection. When the Superior of the community saw his steadfastness of mind and unshakable constancy, and in order to thoroughly test the firmness of his resolve, one day when he saw the child crying, he pretended to be annoyed with him and told the father to throw him into the river. The father, as if this command had come from the Lord himself, immediately snatched up the child as quickly as possible and carried him in his arms to the riverbank to throw him in. In the fervor of his faith and obedience, this would have been carried out in deed had not some of the brothers been deliberately stationed to watch the riverbanks very carefully. When the child was thrown in, they somehow snatched him from the riverbed and prevented the command—which was truly fulfilled by the obedience and devotion of the father—from being completed in actual result.

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 Cœnobia — 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 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 Cœnobium 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.

How it was revealed to the Abbot concerning Patermucius that he had performed the same deed as Abraham; and how when that Abbot died, Patermucius succeeded him in leadership of the monastery.

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.

This man's faith and devotion were so pleasing to God that they were immediately confirmed by divine testimony. For it was immediately revealed to the Superior that through his obedience he had imitated the deed of the patriarch Abraham. And when shortly afterward the same Abbot of the monastery departed from this life to Christ, he chose him over all the other brothers and left him as his successor and as Abbot 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 immediately 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.

About a brother's obedience who, at the Abbot's command, carried ten baskets around in public and sold them one at a time.

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 speak of a brother we knew who came from a high-ranking family in worldly terms, for his father was a count and extremely wealthy, and he had received a liberal education. When he left his parents and fled to the monastery, his superior immediately ordered him to load his shoulders with ten baskets (which did not need to be sold publicly) and carry them through the streets for sale, in order to test the humility of his character and the fervor of his faith. This condition was added to keep him at the work longer: if anyone wanted to buy all the baskets at once, he was not to allow it, but had to sell them to buyers one at a time. He carried this out with the greatest zeal, and trampling underfoot all shame and embarrassment out of love for Christ and for His name's sake, he put the baskets on his shoulders and sold them individually at the set price, bringing the money back to the monastery. He was not at all troubled by the strangeness of such a lowly and unusual task, and paid no attention to the degrading nature of the work, the nobility of his birth, or the disgrace of selling in this way, since he was aiming to gain through the grace of obedience that humility of Christ which is the true nobility.

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.

Concerning the humility of Abbot Pinufius, who left a very famous coenobium where he served as presbyter and leader, and out of love for being subject to others sought a distant monastery where he could be received as a beginner.

Of the humility of Abbot Pinufius, who left a very famous Cœnobium 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 this book force us to draw to a close, but the virtue of obedience, which holds the first place among other good qualities, will not allow us to pass over in complete silence the deeds of those who have excelled in it. Therefore, appropriately combining these two things—consulting both brevity and the wishes and benefit of those who are earnest—we will add just one example of humility. Since it was demonstrated by someone who was not a novice but already perfect and an abbot, it may not only instruct the younger but also stir the elders toward the perfect virtue of humility as they read it. We saw Abbot Pinufius, who was presbyter of a huge monastery in Egypt not far from the city of Panephysis. He was held in honor and respect by everyone out of reverence for his life, his age, or his priesthood. When he saw that for this reason he could not practice the humility he longed for with all the passion of his character, and had no opportunity to exercise the virtue of subjection he desired, he fled secretly from the monastery and withdrew alone to the furthest parts of the Thebaid. There he laid aside the habit of the monks and put on secular dress, and sought out the monastery of Tabenna, which he knew to be the strictest of all. He thought that he would not be recognized there because of the distance, or else that he could easily remain hidden because of the monastery's size and the number of brothers. He remained for a long time at the entrance, and as a suppliant at the knees of the brothers, he sought with most earnest prayers to gain admission. When he was at last admitted with much scorn 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 monastery when he could no longer gratify his passions—they said he was seeking this not for the sake of religion but because he was compelled by hunger and need—they gave him the care and management of the garden, since he seemed an old man not especially fitted for any particular work. He performed this under another and younger brother who kept him as one entrusted to him. 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 that were looked on by the other as hard, degrading, and disagreeable. Rising also by night, he did many things secretly without anyone looking on or knowing, when darkness concealed him so that no one could discover who had done the deed. When he had hidden himself there for three years and had been sought high and low by the brothers all through Egypt, he was at last seen by someone who had come from the parts of Egypt, but could scarcely be recognized because of the meanness of his dress and the humble character of the duty he was performing. He was stooping down and hoeing the ground for vegetables and bringing dung on his shoulders and laying it around their roots. Seeing this, the brother hesitated for a long time 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, he immediately fell at his feet. At first all who saw it were struck with the greatest astonishment that he should do this to one who was looked upon by them as the lowest of all, being a novice and one who had only lately forsaken the world. But afterward they were struck with still greater wonder when he immediately announced his name, which had been well known among them also by reputation. All the brothers asked his pardon for their former ignorance because they had for so long classed him with the juniors and children, and brought him back to his own monastery 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. So they guarded him with the utmost care lest he should slip away again in the same way and escape from them also.

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 who when he was presbyter of a huge Cœnobium which is in Egypt not far from the city of Panephysis, was held in honour and respect by all men out of reverence either for his life or for his age or for his priesthood; and when he saw that for this reason he could not practise that humility which he longed for with all the ardour of his disposition, and had no opportunity of exercising the virtue of subjection which he desired, he fled secretly from the Cœnobium 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 Cœnobium 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 hidden 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 Cœnobium 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 entrusted 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 immediately announced his name, which was one that had been well known among 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 Cœnobium, 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.

When Abbot Pinufius was brought back to his monastery, he stayed there for a short time and then fled again to the regions of Syrian Palestine.

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 stayed there for a little while, he was again seized with a longing and desire for humility. Taking advantage of the silence of night, he escaped in such a way that this time he did not seek a neighboring area, but regions that were unknown and strange and separated by a wide distance. He boarded a ship and managed to travel to Palestine, believing that he would be more safely hidden if he went to places where his name had never been heard. When he arrived there, he immediately sought out our own monastery, which was not far from the cave in which our Lord consented to be born of a virgin. Although he concealed himself there for some time, yet like a city set on a hill (to use our Lord's expression) he could not long be hidden. Soon some of the brothers who had come from Egypt to the holy places to pray there recognized him and recalled him with the most fervent prayers to his own community.

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 hidden if he betook himself to those places in which his name had never been heard. And when he had come there, at once he sought out our own monastery which was at no great distance from the cave in which our Lord vouchsafed to be born of a virgin. And though he concealed himself here for some time, yet like a city set on an hill Matthew 5:14 (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 Cœnobium.

The instruction that Abbot Pinufius himself gave to a brother whom he admitted into his monastery while we were present.

The charge which the same Abbot Pinufius gave to a brother whom he admitted into his monastery in our presence.

This old man we later carefully sought out in Egypt because we had been close to him in our own monastery, and I intend to include in this work an exhortation he gave in our presence to a brother he admitted into the monastery, because I think it may be useful. You know, he said, that after lying for so many days at the entrance you are today to be admitted. First of all, you ought to know the reason for the difficulty put in your way. This may be of great service to you on this path you desire to enter, if you understand the method of it and approach the service of Christ accordingly, and as you ought.

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 today 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.

How a great reward is due to the monk who labors according to the regulations of the fathers, and likewise punishment must be inflicted on an idle one; and therefore no one should be admitted into a monastery too easily.

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 just as unlimited glory is promised in the future to those who faithfully serve God and hold fast to Him according to the rule of this way of life, so the most severe penalties await those who have carried it out carelessly and halfheartedly, and have failed to show Him fruits of holiness that match what they professed or what people believed them to be. For it is better, as Scripture says, that a person should not make a vow than that he should make a vow and not fulfill it; and "Cursed is the one who does the Lord's work carelessly." Therefore, we declined your admission for a long time—not because we did not desire with all our hearts to secure your salvation and the salvation of all, nor because we did not care to go out and meet even from far away those who are longing to turn to Christ, but because we feared that if we received you hastily we might make ourselves guilty before God of being irresponsible, and we might cause you to face an even heavier punishment if, after being too easily admitted by us without understanding the responsibility of this profession, you later turned out to be a deserter or lukewarm. Therefore you should first learn the actual reason for renouncing the world, and once you have grasped this, you can be taught more clearly what you ought to do, based on that reason.

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 does the work of the Lord carelessly. 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.

Concerning how our renunciation is nothing other than mortification and the image of the Crucified.

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 today you are dead to this world and its deeds and desires, and that, as the Apostle says, you are crucified to this world and this world to you. Consider therefore the demands of the cross under whose sign you ought from now on to live in this life, because you no longer live but He lives in you who was crucified for you. We must therefore spend our time in this life in the same manner 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, we may have all our wishes and desires not subject to our own lusts but fastened to His mortification. For in this way we shall fulfill the command of the Lord which says: He that does not take up his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. But perhaps you will say: How can a person carry his cross continually? Or how can anyone who is alive be crucified? Hear briefly how this is.

Renunciation is nothing but the evidence of the cross and of mortification. And so you must know that today 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. Galatians 6:14 Consider therefore the demands of the cross under the sign 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. Galatians 2:20 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, 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 takes not up his cross and follows me is not worthy of me. Matthew 10:38 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.

How the fear of the Lord is our cross.

How the fear of the Lord is our cross.

The fear of the Lord is our cross. Just as someone who is crucified no longer has the power to move or turn his limbs in any direction as he pleases, so we also ought to fix our wishes and desires—not according to what is pleasant and delightful to us now, but according to the law of the Lord, wherever it directs us. And just as someone who is fastened to the wood of the cross no longer considers present things, nor thinks about his preferences, nor is troubled by anxiety and worry for tomorrow, nor disturbed by any desire for possessions, nor inflamed by any pride or conflict or competition, does not grieve over present injuries, does not remember past ones, and while he is still breathing in the body considers himself dead to all earthly things, sending the thoughts of his heart ahead to that place where he has no doubt he will soon arrive: so we also, when crucified by the fear of the Lord, ought to be dead indeed to all these things—that is, not only to fleshly vices but also to all earthly things—having the eye of our mind fixed on the place where we hope at every moment we will soon pass. For in this way we can have all our desires and fleshly affections put to death.

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, sending the thoughts of his heart on before to that place whither he doubts not that he is shortly to come: so we also, when crucified by the fear of the Lord ought to be dead indeed to all these things, i.e. not only to carnal vices but also to all earthly things, having the eye of our minds fixed there whither we hope at each moment that we are soon to pass. For in this way we can have all our desires and carnal affections mortified.

How our renunciation of the world is of no use if we become entangled again in those things which we have renounced.

How our renunciation of the world is of no use if we are again entangled in those things which we have renounced.

Be careful, then, that you never take back any of those things you renounced and abandoned. Do not go against the Lord's command by returning from the field of gospel work and clothing yourself again in the coat you had stripped off. Do not sink back into the low and earthly lusts and desires of this world, and in defiance of Christ's word, do not come down from the roof of perfection and dare to take up again any of those things you have renounced and forsaken. Be careful that you remember nothing of your relatives or your former attachments, and that you are not called back to the cares and anxieties of this world. As our Lord says, do not put your hand to the plow and look back, making yourself unfit for the kingdom of heaven. Be careful that when you have begun to gain knowledge of the Psalms and of this life, you do not little by little become puffed up and think of reviving that pride which you have now trampled underfoot at your beginning in the fervor of faith and in complete humility. Otherwise, as the Apostle says, by building again those things you had destroyed, you make yourself a transgressor. Instead, take care to continue even to the end in that state of renunciation which you professed in the sight of God and of his angels. You should not only continue in this humility and patience with which you persevered for ten days before the doors and begged with many tears to be admitted into the monastery, but also increase and go forward in them. For it is shameful that when you ought to be carried on from the basics and beginnings and go forward to perfection, you should instead begin to fall back from these to worse things. For not the one who begins these things, but the one who endures in them to the end, shall be saved.

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; Matthew 24:18 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. Luke 9:62 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. Galatians 2:18 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. Matthew 24:13

How the devil always lies in wait for our end, and how we ought continually to watch his head.

How the devil always lies in wait for our end, and how we ought continually to watch his head.

The cunning serpent is always watching our heel—that is, lying in wait for the end—and trying to make us stumble right up to the last moment of our life. Therefore, it will not help to have made a good beginning and eagerly taken the first step in renouncing the world with great enthusiasm, if a matching end does not also honor and complete it, and if you do not preserve the humility and poverty of Christ, which you have now professed before Him, all the way to the end of your life, just as you first embraced them. And to succeed in doing this, you must always watch his head—that is, the first rise of thoughts—by immediately bringing them to your superior. In this way you will learn to crush his dangerous beginnings, if you are not ashamed to reveal any of them to your superior.

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.

Concerning the preparation of the renunciant against temptation, and concerning the few who are worthy of imitation.

Of the renunciant's preparation against temptation, and of the few who are worthy of imitation.

Therefore, as Scripture says, when you go out to serve the Lord, stand in the fear of the Lord, and prepare your mind—not for rest or carelessness or pleasures, but for temptations and troubles. For through much tribulation we must enter into the kingdom of God. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and few there are who find it. Consider therefore that you belong to the few and elect, and do not grow cold following the examples of the lukewarmness of many. Instead, live as the few, so that with the few you may be worthy of a place in the kingdom of God. For many are called, but few chosen, and it is a little flock to which it is the Father's good pleasure to give an inheritance. You should therefore realize that it is no light sin for one who has made profession of perfection to follow after what is imperfect. And you may attain to this state of perfection by the following steps and in the following way.

Wherefore, as Scripture says, when you go forth to serve the Lord stand in the fear of the Lord, and prepare your mind Sirach 2:1 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 leads unto life, and few there be which find it. 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 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.

Concerning the way by which we should ascend toward perfection, through which we may afterward rise from the fear of God up to love.

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 its safeguard is, as I said, the fear of the Lord. For through this, those who are being trained in the way of perfection can make a start in conversion, as well as gain purification from vices and security in virtue. And when this has entered a person's heart, it produces contempt for all things and creates a forgetfulness of family and a horror of the world itself. But through contempt for the loss of all possessions, humility is gained. And humility is shown by these signs: first, if a person has mortified all his desires; second, if he hides none of his actions or even his thoughts from his superior; third, if he places no trust in his own opinion but entirely in the judgment of his superior, and listens eagerly and willingly to his directions; fourth, if he maintains obedience, gentleness, and constant patience in everything; fifth, if he not only hurts nobody else but is also not annoyed or upset at wrongs done to himself; sixth, if he does nothing and attempts nothing that he is not urged to do by the common rule or by the example of our elders; seventh, if he is content with the lowest possible position and considers himself a bad worker and unworthy in the case of everything assigned to him; eighth, if he not only outwardly professes with his lips that he is inferior to all but truly believes it in the inmost thoughts of his heart; ninth, if he controls his tongue and is not overly talkative; tenth, if he is not easily moved or too quick to laugh. For true humility is recognized by such signs and others like them. And when this has once been genuinely secured, it immediately leads you by a still higher step to love that knows no fear, and through this you begin, without any effort and as if naturally, to keep up everything that you formerly observed with fear of punishment; no longer now out of concern for punishment or fear of it but from love of goodness itself and delight in virtue.

The beginning of our salvation and the safeguard of it is, as I said, the fear of the Lord. Proverbs 9:10 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; 1 John 4:18 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.

A monk should seek examples of perfection not from many instances but from one or very few.

That the monk should seek for examples of perfection not from many instances but from one or a very few.

To reach this goal more easily, you should look for examples of the perfect life from just one or two people living in the community whom you can imitate, rather than from too many. This is because, apart from the fact that a life that has been tested, refined, and purified is found only in a few people, there is also this benefit: a person is more thoroughly instructed and shaped toward the perfection he has set before himself—namely, that of the coenobite life—by following the example of one specific person.

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 Cœnobite life.

The outward signs of weakness that someone living in a coenobium (communal monastery) should display.

The appearance of what infirmities one who lives in a Cœnobium ought to exhibit.

To be able to attain all this and continually remain subject to this spiritual rule, you must observe these three things in the congregation: as the Psalmist says, "I was like a deaf man and heard not, and as one that is dumb who does not open his mouth; and I became as a man that hears not, and in whose mouth there are no reproofs." You should walk in the same way—as one who is deaf and dumb and blind. Setting aside your focus on the one you have rightly chosen as your model of perfection, you should be like a blind man and not see any of those things you find to be unedifying. Do not be influenced by the authority or example of those who do these things, and do not give yourself over to what is worse and what you formerly condemned. If you hear anyone being disobedient or insubordinate or disparaging another or doing anything different from what was taught to you, do not go wrong and be led astray by such an example to imitate him. Instead, 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 anyone else, or wrongs are done, be unmoved, and as far as answering in retaliation is concerned, be silent as one who 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." But cultivate above everything this fourth thing that adorns and graces those three of which we have spoken above: make yourself, as the Apostle directs in 1 Corinthians 3:18, a fool in this world so 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 complete 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 because of any temptations or devices of the enemy.

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 does not open his mouth; and I became as a man that hears not, and in whose mouth there are no reproofs, so you also should walk as one that is deaf and dumb and blind, so that — putting aside the contemplation of him who has been rightly chosen by you as your model of perfection — you should be like a blind man and not see any of those things which you find to be unedifying, nor be influenced by the authority or fashion of those who do these things, and give yourself up to what is worse and what you formerly condemned. If you hear any one disobedient or insubordinate or disparaging another or doing anything 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. 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, 1 Corinthians 3:18 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.

How a monk should not expect to receive the blessing of patience in his own life as a result of the virtue of others, but rather as a consequence of his own longsuffering.

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 not expect to have patience by depending on the virtue of others, thinking you can only achieve it when no one irritates you (since you cannot control whether this happens). Instead, you should seek patience as a result of your own humility and longsuffering, which do depend on your own will.

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.

Summary of the explanation of how a monk can ascend toward perfection.

Recapitulation of the explanation how a monk can mount up towards perfection.

To ensure that everything set forth in this rather lengthy discussion may be more easily impressed on your heart and firmly fixed in your mind, I will summarize it so that you can memorize all these stages because of their brevity and conciseness. Hear then in few words how you can ascend to the heights of perfection without strain or difficulty. The beginning of our salvation and of wisdom is, according to Scripture, the fear of the Lord. From the fear of the Lord comes salutary compunction. From compunction of heart springs renunciation, that is, nakedness and contempt for all possessions. From nakedness is born humility; from humility comes the mortification of desires. Through mortification of desires all faults are rooted out and destroyed. By driving out faults, virtues spring up and grow. By the budding of virtues, purity of heart is gained. Through purity of heart, the perfection of apostolic love is acquired.

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. 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.