The Institutes — Book V

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.