De Vitis Patrum, Book IX By Theodoretus, bishop of Cyrus Translated into Latin by Gentianus Hervetus Prologue It is a beautiful thing indeed

to read about the battles of those exemplary men who famously strove to acquire virtues. Such feasts for the eyes are of great be nefit to us, for to understand them is to realise they are worthy of emulation. They stand out as examples to be embraced and imitated, compelling the readers t o measure up to them. Those who know the stories of such great and virtuous deed s can bring no greater gift than this to the ears of those who have never heard of them. Some say that these stories are for the ears of the faithful only, but from hearing comes faith, (Romans 10.17) as long as the narrators are trusted to be telling the truth. Just as the tongue and the palate can be relied upon to make a judgment and form an opinion on bitterness or sweetness or other such qualities, so the power of understanding speech is committed to the ear, which knows how to distinguish bet ween things beneficial and things harmful. And as long as these useful narrative s remain whole and incorrupt in the memory, and if a veil of darkness does not s catter them, causing them to vanish from the mind, it might seem to be superfluo us to write them down, for whatever benefit there is in them can be conveyed to others fairly easily. But it seems to me that in time, as the body declines towa rds old age and death, great and virtuous deeds fall into oblivion, and the memo ry of them is lost. So therefore, let no one rebuke us for being eager to write down the way that devout men, lovers of God, lived their lives. Those to whom is entrusted the care of our bodies prepare medicines to fight aga inst disease and bring help to those who are suffering - just so do those who bu sy themselves in writing these stories provide wholesome medicines, so that thin gs which were threatened with oblivion may kept in mind. Poets and writers quite normally celebrate the brave and famous things done in war, playwrights in thei r tragedies offer to the public calamitous events which would otherwise have rem ained hidden, some of the others produce works of comedy and suchlike trivial af fairs, so should we then allow oblivion to be the fate of those men who in their mortal passionate flesh achieved passionlessness by striving after a nature whi ch was not of this world? What punishments should we not deservedly incur if ins tead of remembering those deeds worthy of admiration we neglect them as being of nothing worth? If the memory of those who in old times strove after the highest teachings of the saints has been preserved not in speech or writing but in life like pictures and statues which express all their virtues, what blame would dese rvedly be given to us if we did not pay due honour to their outstanding lives in writing also? The athletes and contortionists who compete at the Olympics are h onoured with statues, even the charioteers in the races are given the same disti nction. Not only this, but there are men and women - as well as effeminate peopl e whose gender is uncertain - who delight in making spectacles of themselves, wh o get themselves into the record books, forever striving to keep their fame aliv e for as long as possible, even though the memory of them is not beneficial to t he soul but debilitating. So then, those worthy of admiration are honoured by on e sort of picture, those who can only bring harm by another. And since death bri ngs destruction to every mortal nature, they think that by producing judiciously coloured pictures of themselves their fame will last longer than a long life. We, however, shall be writing about lives governed by a love of wisdom ['philoso phia', and translated thus passim], ways of life directed towards the heavenly, worthy of imitation. We shall not be describing bodily features and faces, nor s hall we be offering anything from anyone who speaks from ignorance, but we shall be outlining the working of souls which is not normally open to view, and we sh all lay bare hidden battles and conflicts which are not outwardly apparent. This was the armour with which Paul, the general of his army and leader in battl e, clothed his troops: 'Put on', he said, 'the armour of God, that you may be ab le to withstand in the evil day and having done all, to stand.' And again, 'Stan d therefore with your loins girded about with truth, wearing the breastplate of

justice, your feet shod with the preparation of the Gospel of peace, at all time s taking up the shield of faith, with which you may quench all the fiery darts o f the wicked. And put on the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit whi ch is the word of God.' (Ephesians 6.13-17). And having clothed them in this arm our he sent them forth to battle. The nature of the enemy is incorporeal, diffic ult to discern, obscurely invasive, secretly insidious, suddenly attacking when least expected. Our general gave the same instructions to his troops, saying, 'O ur struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and power s, against the rulers of the world and the darkness of this age, against the spi rits of wickedness in high places.' (Ibid. 12). This band of saints had a grea t number of enemies like that; each one of them was surrounded by many powerful enemies (not that they all attacked at once - some of them attacked now one lot, now another), so their victory was all the more famous when their adversaries f led. And when they had been put to flight and scattered, the flag of victory cou ld be raised without any possible objection from anybody. It was not mortal human nature, full of countless contradictions, which won them that victory, but the divine grace which filled their souls. For they burned wi th love for the divine beauty, and were resolved to do all things and suffer all things for the sake of him whom they loved. With a strong and generous spirit t hey bore the attacks of their own contradictions and agitations, they repulsed t he violence of the devil with the sort of javelin which in apostolic terms consi sts of 'punishing the body and bringing it into subjection' (1 Corinthians 9.27) . They quenched the fires of anger, they compelled raging greed to be still; by fasting and staying quietly at home they settled their troubled states of mind a nd banished all exaggerated flights of fancy, and compelled their vile bodies in to harmony with their souls, thus winning the battle against their inborn nature . Once peace had been established in all these things, they were able to expel t he whole crowd of adversaries, for they had no inner thoughts of which the devil s might take advantage. Deprived of any help which the human senses might give t hem the demons were unable to carry on their war. For the devil makes use of our senses as his weapons; if we ignore the sights that dazzle and the tempting sou nds we hear, if our sense of feeling is not titillated by luxurious softness, if our minds give no admittance to depraved devices, then their labour is in vain who prepare assaults against us. No enemy can capture a city built on a hill, fortified with strong defences and surrounded by deep ditches, for as long as no one inside helps the enemy by open ing the gates. Just so, it is not possible for the demons, who wage war from out side us, to overcome a soul surrounded by divine grace, unless some slothfulness of thought opens some window in our senses which allows the enemy to enter in. Those whose praises we are celebrating learned this from opening the divine scri ptures to hear God saying through the Prophet. 'Death has come up through the wi ndows' (Jeremiah 9.21). So for them the laws of God served as bolts and bars to prevent their senses from straying, and they entrusted the keys to the rational mind; so that unless the mind gave the command, the tongue and lips did not open , nor was the eye permitted to range abroad; and the mind shut the door to all f oolish and worthless voices as soon as they were heard approaching with threaten ing and vicious sounds. Only such voices as the mind approved of were allowed in . And thus they taught that the sense of smell should not hanker after sweet per fumes whose inbuilt nature was softening and relaxing. They taught that the stom ach should not be fully satisfied but be fed of practical necessity not for plea sure, and never given more than what was sufficient to keep them from death by s tarvation. Likewise they defeated the sweet tyranny of sleep; they escaped from being the slaves of their eyelids, and for servitude substituted domination, in that they made use of sleep not when sleep overcame them but when they briefly s ummoned sleep in order to satisfy the needs of nature. So then, having taken care to guard the gates and walls and bring harmony to the ir inner thoughts, they could laugh at the invading adversaries outside, who wer e unable to get in by force because the grace of God overruled them, nor was any traitor to be found who was willing to let them in. Even though these enemies w ere by nature hidden from sight, they still had no power over a visible body sub

ject to the needs of nature. For the mind, the governing charioteer of this body , skilfully and harmoniously holding the reins, directed the horses accurately a nd well; it continuously plucked the strings of the senses, producing elegant an d agreeable harmony in every part; by its skill in handling the rudder it withst ood the pounding of the waves and broke the force of the winds. These men therefore entered into life through countless labours, they subdued th e body by hardships and sweat, they knew no laughter or relaxation, their whole life was one of tears and mourning, they reckoned their fasts as Sybaritic delig hts, their protracted vigils as the sweetest of slumbers, the hard ground as the gentlest of bedding, a life of praying and singing psalms as the greatest and m ost inexhaustible of pleasures. Who can fail to admire these men who embraced ev ery kind of virtue? Who will not praise and celebrate their worthiness? I know i ndeed that no speeches can adequately portray their virtues; nevertheless we can but try. They had an eager longing for their love of true wisdom to be perfected, but it would not nevertheless be right to neglect the praise of lesser lights. So I sha ll not assign one common measure of praise to all in what I write, for the gifts God gave them were varied, as the blessed Paul taught: 'To some is given by the Spirit a word of wisdom, to others a word of knowledge by the same Spirit, to o thers faith by the same Spirit, to others gifts of healing by the same Spirit, t o others the working of miracles, to others prophecy, to others the gift of tong ues, to others the interpretation of tongues.' (1 Corinthians 12. 8-10). And in order to show the origin of them all he adds, 'But at work in all these is one a nd the same Spirit, dividing to each one separately how he will' (Ibid. 11). Sin ce therefore the gifts they have been given are all different, it is right that I should make a separate story out of each one of them. I shall not itemise ever y single thing that they did, for a whole lifetime would be needed to do that, b ut to illustrate their manner of life I shall tell of a few things that each one has done. Having outlined just a few things illustrating the character and shap e of the life of each one, I shall then go on to the next. I shall not try to put into writing the history of every holy person who ever ex isted, and not even those whose fame we know to have been universally acknowledg ed, for it is not possible that one man could write about everyone. I shall desc ribe only the lives of those who were like lights shining in the East sending ou t their rays to the ends of the earth. But let my storytelling issue in prayer; judge it not by the laws of eulogising, but gather from it a few things that are true. This is a religious history, or description of monastic discipline (call it what you will, as long as you do not give less credence to the stories becaus e you read of things which are beyond your own capabilities). And I beg whosoeve r lights upon it not to weigh its virtues up against what they themselves are ca pable of, but to recognise clearly that it is God from on high who measures out the gifts of the most holy Spirit on the souls of the devout, and more abundantl y to those who are closer to perfection. I say this for the benefit of those who are not yet fully initiated into the mysteries of divine things. It is the prie sts of the inner sanctum of the Spirit who know the glory of the Spirit and reco gnise the miracles which he performs among human beings through the ministration s of human beings, drawing the unbelieving towards the knowledge of God. It is c lear that whoever does not believe the things which I am about to relate would n ot believe what Moses did either, or what Joshua did, or Elijah or Elisha, and h olds as fables the deeds of the holy apostles. But if they do accept those thing s to be true let them also give credence to these things. For the grace that wor ked in them is the same grace which enabled these others to do what they did. Gr ace is eternal, and chooses those who are worthy of it, passing over some, but p ouring out over others the fulness of its working. I witnessed myself many of the things I shall tell about, and what I did not wit ness myself I heard from those who did, men who loved virtue and were found wort hy to be their witnesses and profit from their teachings. Matthew and John are f irst and foremost among the Evangelists, for they actually saw the Lord's miracl es, but Luke and Mark are also trustworthy gospel writers. They were taught by t hose who were from the beginning 'witnesses and ministers of the Word', (Luke 1.

2) passing on accurate knowledge of what the Lord suffered and did, and what he constantly taught. And so although the blessed Luke did not actually see the Lor d, he made it quite clear in the beginning of his gospel that he was telling of those things which had been delivered unto him (Ibid). So then we also, if we ha ve listened to someone who did not actually see what he is talking about but lea rnt about it from someone else, are able to give no less credence to him and to Mark than we do to Matthew and John. The narrative of one as well as the other i s worthy of belief for they learned from those who were there. We therefore shall tell of some things which we actually saw, and other things t rusting in the stories of those who did see, and who emulated them in their own lives. But I shall go into a bit more detail when I want to be convincing about the truth of what I am saying. And so, here I begin my story. Chapter I JACOBUS of Nisibis Moses the divine lawgiver, who laid bare the bottom of the sea, caused water to flow in the barren desert and did many other miracles, wrote down the deeds of t hose saints who were of old. He was not prompted by the wisdom of the Egyptians, but by the splendour of grace given him from above. For unless he had been insp ired by the all-knowing divine Spirit, how could he have learned about the virtu es of Abel, Enoch's love of righteousness, the devout priesthood of Melchisedech , the calling of Abraham, and his faith, his courage, his meticulous attention t o the duties of hospitality, the sacrifice of his son for the benefit of the wor ld, and the whole catalogue of all the other deeds which he performed? I likewis e need help in this present work, trying as I am to describe the lives of those holy people who shone both in our own times and in the times a little before us, and whom I would wish to portray as examples for those who would wish to emulat e them. I beg your prayers for this, and so I begin my tale. Nisibis is a state on the borders between the Romans and the Persians. At one ti me it was subject to the Romans and paid taxes to them. This is where the great Jacobus came from to embrace the quietness of a solitary life. He chose the peak s of the highest mountains as his abode. In summer and autumn he frequented the woods, with only the sky for a roof over his head; in the winter he made use of a cave, which gave him some sort of shelter. His food was not such as is laborio usly sown and cultivated, but what grew naturally; he gathered the fruits which grew of their own accord on the trees of the woods, and edible herbs which serve d him as vegetables. He ate them raw, providing his body with sufficient to pres erve life. He found it quite unnecessary for his clothing to be of wool; he used instead the prickly hair of goatskins, from which he made a tunic and simple cl oak. By afflicting his body thus, he was able to feed his body with spiritual food, b y contemplation he purified the faculty of thought, wherein as in a clear mirror of the divine Spirit, with open face looking to the glory of God, he was transf ormed into the same image from glory unto glory, as by the spirit of the Lord. ( 2 Corinthians 3.18). Hence, his trust in God which came from God increased daily , and asking from God only what it was right to ask he immediately received what he asked for. As a result he was able to see the future prophetically, and by t he grace of the most holy Spirit received the power of doing miracles. I shall t ell of some of them, and make known the brightness of his apostolic splendour to those who were previously unaware. An insane attraction to idols was flourishing among people at that time, the cul t of worshipping inanimate statues was being promoted, and many neglected the wo rship of God. Anyone who did not wish to join in their drunkenness was held in c ontempt, but those given above all to the pursuit of virtue saw things as they r eally were, and mocked the senselessness of idols while worshipping the maker of the universe. He had travelled into Persia at that time in order to see the new signs of true religion there, and what was equally important, to bring them some pastoral care . He happened to be passing by a pond where some girls were washing clothes by p ounding them with their feet. Far from showing the respect due to him not only a

s a stranger but as one wearing the habit with modesty and dignity, the girls sh amelessly cast burning looks and impudent glances at the holy man, nor did they cover their heads or let fall the garments which they had tucked up round their waists. This made the man of God angry, and he called down a curse upon the pond, choosi ng this opportune moment to make manifest the power of God, and by performing a miracle to drive out wickedness. The pond immediately dried up. He also cursed t he girls and punished their youthful impudence by turning their hair prematurely grey. The lesson he drew from this was that the changed colour of their hair wa s like what had recently happened to the trees, which were now crowned with autu mn leaves. The girls watched the waters drying up and stared at each other's hea ds. They knew these sudden changes were their punishment, and they fled back to the town to tell of what had happened. The townspeople ran out and soon met up w ith the great Jacobus, whom they begged to restrain his anger and remove the pun ishment. Jacobus did not keep them waiting long, but prayed to God and commanded the waters to flow once more. They immediately began to gush up out of the dept hs again, obedient to the holy man's command. Having made that request they then begged that the colour of the girls' hair should be restored. He granted this e ven though the girls had not returned, for he sought them out and lifted the pun ishment from them. This was a lesson to them that they should in future be tempe rate and well disciplined, and remember always how divine power had been shown f orth on them. Such was the miracle of this latter-day Moses, performed not by striking with a rod, but by making the sign of the cross. Quite apart from the miracle I am asto nished at his gentleness. For unlike the great Elisha he did not hand those impu dent girls into the power of savage bears, (2 Kings 2.24), but shamed them by me ans of a fairly harmless punishment, and at the same time taught them to be resp ectful and restrained. I say this, not to condemn the prophet for savagery (far be it from me to be so presumptuous!), but to demonstrate how Jacobus possessed the same sort of power, but used it in a manner compatible with the New Testamen t and the greatness of Christ. On another occasion he was present when a Persian judge handed down a judgment w hich was manifestly unjust, so Jacobus laid a curse on a large rock nearby, orde ring it to be broken into fragments, showing by this how worthless the judgment was. All those present were terrified at seeing the stone shattered into a thous and pieces, and it was such a shock to the judge himself that he overturned his previous judgment and issued a just one. In this likewise Jacobus was imitating the Lord, who when wishing to show that he was going cheerfully to his passion o f his own free will, refrained from punishing his persecutors but showed that he had power to do so by withering the fig tree (Matthew 21.19). In imitation of s uch clemency Jacobus did not punish the judge, but by destroying the rock induce d him to judge justly. His deeds became known, and made him so loved and respected by all that he was e levated to the bishopric of his own country. So through no desire of his own he was thrust into a very exalted way of life and social position. But he did not w ear any different clothing or change his diet; his circumstances may have change d but his rule of life was not modified in the slightest. His labours increased, and were much greater than they were before. He was already fasting, sleeping o n the ground and wearing rough clothing; to these labours were added the care of the poor, the widows and the orphans, and he also opposed those who dealt unjus tly while supporting those who had suffered injustice. But what a task it would be to enlighten all those who are unaware of the benefits received by those he c ared for! His great distinction is that he went about his work as one who above all feared and loved him who was the master of his sheep. The greater his acts of kindness grew in number, so much the greater was the gra ce given to him by the most holy Spirit. On one occasion he was travelling throu gh some village or town (I'm not quite sure where), when some poor people approa ched him carrying one of their number who they said was dead. They humbly begged him for money to pay for his burial, but he simply prayed to God to forgive him the sins he had committed in life and count him worthy to be admitted into the

company of the just. At the very moment when these words were being spoken, the soul departed from the man pretending to be dead, while Jacobus gave them money for a shroud. As soon as this admirable man had gone a little further on his way the perpetrat ors of this deed told the recumbent form to get up. Receiving no response they s uddenly realised that what they had been pretending had come true, the playactin g had become real. They rushed back to Jacobus and threw themselves at his feet, protesting that it was poverty which had driven them to do what they had rashly done. They humbly begged him to pardon their transgression and restore the dead man to life. And in imitation of the mercy of the Lord he did offer prayers and perform a miracle, so that as life had been taken through prayer even so life t hrough prayer was restored. This all seems to have certain similarities to the miracle performed by the grea t Peter, who handed over to death those thieves and liars, Ananias and Saphiras (Acts 5,1-10), for Jacobus also brought death to him who murdered truth and trad ed in lies. But whereas Peter inflicted the punishment having become aware of th e theft by the Spirit, Jacobus knew nothing of what those men were trying to ach ieve, but simply offered the prayers which brought about the pretender's death. The divine Apostle did nothing to snatch back the dead from their fate, because he needed to inculcate some fear before could begin to preach salvation. Jacobus , overflowing with apostolic grace, brought about an opportune punishment, but a lso later remitted the punishment, for the need here was to bring enlightenment to the offenders.

Chapter I, Jacobus (continued) Book IX (Julianus Sabas begins further down pag e) But we need to move on to other matters which should be briefly mentioned. After Arius created uproar and confusion in Egypt, the great Emperor Constantine gath ered all the leaders of the churches together at Nicaea. Arius was the father an d instigator of curse and blasphemy against the only begotten Son and the most h oly Spirit, whereas Constantine was like a Zorobabel to our flock (Zorobabel bro ught the universal captivity of the righteous back from exile and rebuilt the ho ly temple which had been razed to the ground [Ezra 3.2].) The great Jacobus was also among those who came to Nicaea, determined to stand up for revealed truth l ike the brave army-leader he was, for Nisibis at that time was a Roman dependenc y. When the gathering was over and everyone returned home, he too came back like a brave man who had won a victory, rejoicing that true devotion had prevailed. Some time after this, that great and highly regarded Emperor departed this life acknowledged by all to be a saint [lit. with crowns of piety], and his sons inhe rited the rulership of the world. But Sapores, the king of the Persians, had no respect for Constantine's sons, deeming them to be nowhere near as powerful as t heir father, and he sent a great army of cavalry and infantry, together with a g reat number of elephants, to war against Nisibis. He deployed his army to besiege the city and completely surrounded it. He brough t his siege engines forward, built towers and dug ditches, barricaded the space between them with hurdles built out of branches, and ordered his soldiers to bui ld mounds so that his towers would rival those of the city. He then placed his a rchers in them, ordering them to direct their fire on those manning the battleme nts. He ordered others to dig below and undermine the walls. But all these plans were of no effect and a waste of time, for they were all brought to naught by t he prayers of Jacobus, that divine man. At last, however, Sapores came to a bold decision [lit. forbade weakness] and, confident that the numbers of his men wer e like a river in flood, built earthworks and constructed retaining barriers so

that he was able to divert a real river of great quantity which he directed agai nst the fortifications. It proved to be a most mighty device, for the walls were unable to withstand this attack and were struck with such force that at that po int they began to crumble from beneath. A great shout went up from the besieging army, for now the city was on the point of being taken. They did not fully real ise, however, the wall of defence which the citizens of that city still possesse d. For a time they deferred entering the city, unable to approach it because of the waters. They moved back some distance and thinking that their labours were almo st over, they relaxed and took thought for their horses. But those who lived in the city turned to prayer, with the great Jacobus as their intercessor. Every ab le-bodied person worked as hard as they possibly could to rebuild, not worrying about whether the structure would be pretty and pleasing, but piling everything up at random, stones and bricks and whatever anyone could carry, to such effect that in the space of one night they had built high enough to prevent an attack b y cavalry, and by infantry unless using ladders. They then all begged the man of God to show himself on the walls and hurl the weapon of cursing at the enemy. I n response to their request he went up, and as he looked out over the multitude of them he begged God to send a cloud of mosquitoes and gnats upon them. Even as he spoke God responded, answering the prayer of Jacobus as he did the prayer of Moses. Men were pierced by these spears from God, horses and elephants broke th eir chains, bolted and scattered hither and thither, unable to bear the stings. The wicked king realised that all his stratagems had failed; the flooding with w ater had achieved nothing, for the wall which had been destroyed had been rebuil t. His whole army was worn out by their labours and was under the curse of God, plagued by the snares of God. He saw the man of God walking upon the walls and t hought it must have been the Emperor who had been in charge of all the work, for Jacobus seemed to be dressed in purple and crowned with a diadem. He was theref ore enraged with those who had urged him into this battle, deceiving him by tell ing him that the Emperor would not be there. He condemned them to execution, dis missed the army and returned to his own kingdom as quickly as possible. These miracles are in no way inferior to those which God performed through Hezek iah (2 Kings 19.35) - even greater, it seems to me, in that the city was not tak en even though the walls had been undermined. But what I admire even more than t hat is that when he had recourse to cursing he did not call down thunder and lig htning from heaven as the great Elijah did when each captain of fifty with his f ifty men advanced towards him (2 Kings I.14). For Jacobus had understood what th e Lord said to James and John when they wanted to do this: 'You do not know what manner of spirit you are of' (Luke 9. 55). So he did not ask for the earth to s wallow them up, or that they should be consumed by fire, but just that they shou ld be plagued by insects. Knowing the power of God he understood that disciplesh ip had to be developed into the true way of worshipping God. Great indeed was th e trust which this divine man had in God, great was the grace given him from abo ve. His face was ever turned heavenwards, and having grown daily in the knowledg e of God he at last laid down his life with great glory and departed from our mi dst. Some time later, this city was handed over from its then rulers to the kingdom o f Persia. Those who used to live there had to leave, but they took with them the body of their prince and defender, grieving and scarcely able to bear having to be exiled, yet singing and celebrating the power of this great conqueror. For i f he had lived they would have had but a small chance of falling into the hands of the barbarians. I have now come to the end of my account of this divine man, and so move on to a nother story, praying that his blessing may follow me. Chapter II JULIANUS SABAS Julianus lived in the region formerly known as the land of the Persians, but lat terly of the Ofroeni, where he set up a little dwelling-place in which to follow

the monastic life. The local people honoured him with the name Sabas, which mea ns presbyter in Greek, or senis in Latin [or 'old man' or 'elder' in English]. O n one side, to the West, his cell was bounded by the banks of the River Euphrate s; on the other, towards the rising sun, lay the border of the Roman Empire. Ass yria conquered the Persians, and the western border of the kingdom of the Persia ns was called Adiabenis by those who came after. In this country there were man y great and populous cities, and a great part of the country was inhabited. But there was also a great deal of uninhabited desert. This divine man went to the furthest parts of this solitary place and found a na turally formed cave, which although not very beautiful or commodious, neverthele ss provided some barely sufficient shelter for those who came to him. He was per fectly happy to live here, reckoning it to be more magnificent than kingdoms gli ttering with gold and silver. He settled in there, eating only once a week, his food, bread made from barley, and that of the bran only, his only relish salt, h is drink the purest water which flowed from a natural spring [lit. drink however the most pure, waters of floods by themselves natural], which he did not use to excess but only according to a predetermined measure. But he enjoyed the unmeasured delights of an unlimited banquet in the shape of s inging the psalms of David, and having constant converse with God. He made use o f them constantly, he could never get enough of them, he was always full of them , he was forever crying, 'How sweet are your words to my tongue, more than honey and honeycomb to my mouth' (Psalms 119.103). And again he heard these words of the blessed David, 'The judgments of the Lord are true, justified in themselves, more to be desired than gold and many precious stones, sweeter than honey and t he honeycomb' (Psalms 19.10-11). And again, 'Delight in the Lord and he will giv e you your heart's desire,' (ibid. 37.4). And again, 'Let the heart of them rejo ice that seek the Lord' (ibid. 105.3). And 'Let my heart rejoice that it might f ear your name' (ibid.86.11). And 'Taste and see how gracious the Lord is' (ibid. 34.8). And 'My soul thirsts for the living God' (ibid.42.2). And 'My soul longs after you' (ibid. 42.1) And he grafted into himself the love which inspired the writer of all these words. This is how the great David by his songs taught him that he would build up many companions who would rival him in the love they showed for God. His hope for thi s was not in vain. For not this man only but countless others were thus pierced by the love of God. He was consumed by such a great fire of love, he was so into xicated by desire, that he ceased to have any care for anything of this earth. H e dreamed only of his beloved by night and sought only the sight of him by day. And many people heard about his exceptional quest for wisdom [philosophia], and came to him from far and near. As his fame spread everywhere abroad, so they ran to him begging to benefit from his training. The came to him as to a master tra iner, to be a family of children who would live on after him. Just as singing bi rds are used in hunting to call others of the same breed in order to catch them in nets, so do human beings chase after other human beings, sometimes for the pu rpose of destroying them, but sometimes in order to be saved. So very soon there were ten others with him, then twice and even three times more than that. Altho ugh there were so many of them the cave accommodated them all. They learned from the old man how to care little for the comfort of the body, they dressed alike as children of the same family, sustained by barley bread and salt. Later on they collected wild herbs and mixed them in dolia [i.e. large globular water jars] with a sufficient amount of salt brine, to be used as remedies for those who were ill. The place where these herbs were stored was extremely damp a nd it eventually happened that they followed their natural inclination to develo p mould and rot, for the cave was very damp in every part of it. So the brothers asked the old man if he would let them build a little shelter big enough to tak e the vessels containing these remedies. At first he was very unwilling to acced e to their request, but was eventually persuaded by St Paul not to seek his own (1 Corinthians 13.5) but to make concessions and accommodate himself to the humb le. He therefore specified the measurements to which a small shelter might be bu ilt and left the cave to offer up his usual prayers to God. (For he was accustom ed to go off into the desert, often for 50 stadia [= 5.7 miles approx] but somet

imes for twice as far, to cut himself off from all human company, retire into hi mself and there to meet and converse with God and gaze upon his divine and ineff able beauty.) As soon as they had time, the men whom the old man had considered capable of see ing to this matter began to build a little shed of a size compatible with what i t was to be used for, but bigger than they had been told. And on the tenth day, like Moses coming down from the mountain and from such contemplation as cannot b e expressed in words, the old man saw this building, much bigger than he had all owed. "I fear," he said, "that you men may be so attached to earthly buildings that yo u lose the heavenly. For the earthly are but for a time and are of use to us for but a moment, whereas the heavenly are for ever and cannot come to an end." And this he said to lead his group of people into a knowledge of the more perfect w ay, while yet bearing in mind the voice of the apostle saying, 'I seek not after what is profitable for myself but for many, that they may be saved.' (1 Corinth ians 10.33) He also taught them how to offer heartfelt hymnody to God in common. Two of them should go off together into the desert at dawn; one of them should prostrate hi mself to give the Lord due adoration, the other should stand and sing fifteen of the psalms of David. This done they should change places; one of them to get up and sing, the other to prostrate himself and adore. And they should continue do ing this attentively from morning till the evening. Before sunset they should re st for a little while in the cave, some here, some there, but all should then co me together from wherever they are in the cave to offer the vespertide hymns to God together. The old man was accustomed to choose one of the juniors to share t he duties of leading the prayers. One of his more assiduous followers was a man of Persia, a big man with a beauti ful body, but whose soul was even more beautiful still. His name was Jacobus, wh o continued to shine with every virtue after Julianus' death. He was famous and respected not only in Persia but also in the Syrian monasteries or schools of p hilosophy, where he ended his life at the age, it is said, of a hundred and four . He often accompanied Julianus, that great old man, into the desert, but was al ways kept at a distance. The master did not allow anyone to come too close to hi m lest some possible occasion of disagreement arise between them, for conversati on takes the mind away from the contemplation of God. One day as Jacobus was following on behind him he saw an enormous wild beast [dr aco] in the path ahead. He looked at it wondering whether he dared go on any fur ther. At first fear urged him to avoid the beast, but then he summoned up his co urage. He bent down and picked up a stone, which he threw, but found that the be ast stayed still, unable to move at all. He realised that the beast was dead and wondered whether that was not the old man's doing. They continued on their rout ine, and when they had finished their routine of prayer and singing the old man sat down for a time of quiet, telling Jacobus also to be silent for a little whi le, which he did until the old man with a smile began some gentle conversation. Jacob then asked for enlightenment upon a point about which he was ignorant. "You may ask, if you wish," the old man said. "As I was coming along the path," said Jacobus, "I saw an enormous wild beast ly ing there. I was very frightened at first, thinking it was alive, but then I saw that it was dead, and I was able to keep on going in safety. Tell me, father, w ho killed it? You had been ahead of me, and no one else had passed by." "Stop being inquisitive about such things. You won't be any the better off for k nowing the answer." But Jacobus is to be admired for abating not one whit in his desire to know the truth. The old man tried for quite a while to keep his counsel but in the end co uld not bear to keep his companion in suspense any longer. "Well, I will tell you, if you really want to know," he said at last, "but only on one condition, that you tell nobody else as long as I am alive. For anything which might encourage pride and arrogance should always be kept secret. But afte r I have departed this life I shall be free from such spiritual temptations, so I would not entirely forbid you to reveal it, at least as a proof of the power o

f divine grace. So then you should know that this beast met me as I walked along the path, looking as if it was going to devour me, but I called upon Jesus and made the sign of the cross at him, completely free from fear. Immediately I saw the beast fall to the ground, and with a commonly used prayer of praise for the Saviour I jumped over him." And having spoken thus he returned to the cave. On another occasion there was a nobly born young man, rather delicately brought up, whose confidence in his own willing eagerness of spirit was not matched by h is physical strength, for he begged the old man to let him be his companion as h e journeyed into the desert, not merely for the one-day visit that everyone did, but for the longer journey which often lasted for eight to ten days. This man w as the famous Asterius. The divine old man discouraged the youth, pointing out t hat the desert was scorching hot and waterless, but he persisted in begging for his request to be granted. His pleadings eventually persuaded the old man, and he did indeed follow the old man out. He was quite vigorous at first, but when the first day, the second day and then the third day had passed, he began to feel dried up by the rays of the sun, and to suffer continually from thirst. (It was summertime, and of course t he flames of the sun are even stronger at the height of summer.) At first he fel t ashamed to admit to suffering any discomfort, turning over in his mind what th e old man had said to him beforehand. At last however he gave in, and in a state of near collapse begged the old man to have pity on him. But the old man simply reminded him of what he had already said, and told him to go back home. "But I don't know the way back to the cave," said the youth. "And even if I did I couldn't manage it. My strength has almost vanished because of thirst." The old man then took pity on the young man's condition, realising how weak his body was. He prostrated himself and prayed to the Lord. He watered the ground wi th hot tears and begged for the young man's safety. And he who answers the praye rs and fulfils the desires of those who fear him took the teardrops falling on t he sand and turned them into a fountain of water. The young man was revived by t his flowing water and the old man urged him to keep on going. The spring is stil l there to this day, a witness to the Mosaic power of the old man's prayer. For just as Moses of old struck the bare rock with his rod and produced an abundant flow of water sufficient to satisfy the thirst of thousands of people (Exodus 17 .6), so did this man produce a flowing fountain by watering the driest of sand w ith his tears, not for the sake of many thousands, but to satisfy the thirst of one single youth. Inspired by divine grace he foresaw the future perfection of t his youth, who many years later, spurred on by divine grace to lead many others into the same state of grace, built a monastic school of excellence near Gendaru m, the city next in size to Antioch. Here, he attracted to himself many other at hletic lovers of wisdom. One of those drawn to him was the great Acacius, an outstanding man in my view, and justly famous. He was exceptional in his monastic life, and shone with such splendid virtues that he was held worthy to be made a bishop and given pastoral care of Berhoea. During the fifty-eight years he cared for his flock he never re laxed his monastic routine, but combined the best qualities both monastic and se cular. In his monasticism he continued in the search for perfection, in his civi l life he administered the affairs of a large household, thus combining things w hich in themselves were very different from each other. Asterius also strove to practise this kind of virtue. He had such a great affect ion for the great old man Julianus that he would visit him sometimes twice a yea r sometimes thrice. He would come with three or four beasts of burden laden with dried figs for the community (sodalibus), and put together two measures of them which he carried on his own shoulders, enough to last the old man a year. He ca lled himself a camel-driver, and so he was. And he carried this load not just fo r a mile or two, but for a seven day's journey. Once when the old man saw him st ruggling along, loaded up with dried figs on his shoulders he said that he shoul d stop bringing this food to him. "It is not right that you should undergo all this labour," Julianus said, "so th at I can profit in luxury from your sweat." "I won't unload anything at all," said Asterius, "unless you agree to take a sha

re in this food that I have brought." "I'll do as you ask," he said. "Only please put that burden down as soon as poss ible." In this he was like the chief of the apostles who demurred at first when the Lor d offered to wash his feet, loudly asserting that that would never happen (John 13.8). But then as soon as he was told that unless he agreed he would be parted from fellowship with the Lord, he begged that the Lord would wash not only his f eet but also his hands and his head. Likewise, this divine man was worried that he should enjoy the fruit of someone else's labour, but recognizing the burning eagerness of his disciple's soul, he abandoned his objections in favour of accep ting his ministry. People who take pleasure in other people being blamed, and who have learned only how to laugh at all things honest, may well say that this story was not worth r emembering. But I think it is a profitable story, and have included it in the ac count of this man's miracles not only to show how his piety was typical of all g reat men, but also to demonstrate what an attractive and reasonable man he was. For his great virtues were of such a kind that he considered himself to be unwo rthy of even the slightest honour, so he therefore rebuffed [Asterius' offering] as being quite inappropriate. But later he accepted him, to signify his support for those who do such things. It was obvious that the more he tried to distance himself from everyone, the mor e his reputation attracted people who were lovers of all things wholesome and ho nest. So he escaped with some of his closer companions to Mt Sinai, without goin g into any of the towns or villages, but by journeying through the trackless des ert. They carried their food with them on their shoulders, bread and salt in fac t, and also a flask, a wooden ladle, and a sponge on the end of a line, so that if they came to deep well they would be able to lower the sponge, and squeeze it out into the ladle from which they drank. After many days' journeying they came at last to the long looked-for mountain, where they praised the Lord and remain ed for quite a long time, taking pleasure in the solitude and enjoying great pea ce of mind. On that rocky place where Moses, chief of prophets, was found worthy to see God (in so far as it is possible for anyone to see God), he built a chur ch and consecrated a holy altar, which remain to this day. This done, he returne d to his own place. At this time his namesake, the wicked Emperor Julian, was threatening to destroy the Christians root and branch. He came into Persia, and those who thought as h e did confidently expected to witness his return [in safety], but Julianus began to pray to God with great zeal and burning desire, which he kept up for ten day s, until he heard a voice saying that that accursed and filthy pig had been remo ved. But he did not stop praying; he joyfully continued by turning his prayer in to a song of thanksgiving to the gentle Saviour of his own people who were oppos ed to this powerful enemy. He had long been gentle and forbearing towards this w icked man, but at last his gentleness and tolerance of his crimes turned to ange r, and brought down upon him the punishment he deserved. When he had finished his prayer he returned to his companions, and it was obviou s to them that he was in a tranquil and happy frame of mind, for the cheerfulnes s of his heart showed in the happiness of his face. They who knew him so well we re astonished at this unwonted sight, for whereas he was usually solemn of count enance now he was seen to be smiling. They asked him what he was so happy about and he replied, "The present time, my brothers, is one of joy, for the wicked ha s been cast down, as Isaiah says (Isaiah 24.21), and the aggression he began has met with its just reward. He who defied the God who made and preserved him has been justly destroyed by the power of him who is the source of power. So I am gl addened to see the churches rejoicing which he had oppressed, and to know that t he demons now infest him who used to seek their help, and no help now can he fin d." This was how he foresaw the fall of the wicked.

Chapter II, Julianus Sabas (continued), Book IX (Marcianus begins further down page) Valens took up the reins of Roman power after Julian, departed from the truth of the gospel and decided to impose the erroneous teaching of Arius. A great campa ign against the Church began, the leaders were everywhere driven into exile, and replaced by hostile plunderers. I won't go into the whole course of that traged y at present, but omit everything except just one event which plainly shows how the grace of the divine Spirit flourished in that old man. Now the great Meletius had been driven out of the church of Antioch, the pastora l care of which it was believed had been given him by the God of all. People of the same opinion as himself, professing belief in the one essence of the Trinity , together with some of the clergy, were also expelled from the holy churches. T hey came to a hollow in the mountains to celebrate the holy mysteries. They made the river bank an oratory, which at one time had been an army training ground i n front of the northern gate. But the enemy would not permit these pious people to gather together all in one place, and infiltrated them with lying adherents o f theirs who spread rumours among them that Julianus himself was in communion wi th those who held to this false teaching. Now Flavianus and Diodorus, those blessed divine men, had the honour of being th e priestly leaders of the people [at that time]. Together with Aphraates, whose life I intend to give you an account of, if God wills [see chapter VIII], they p ersuaded the great Acacius (whom I have already mentioned) to make an approach t o the illustrious Asterius, his teacher and, of course, the disciple of Julianus . Their aim was to go as quickly as possible to Julianus, that splendid example of devotion and upholder of gospel teaching, to beg him to put aside his predile ction for solitude and come to the aid of the thousands of people in danger from false teaching, in the hope that his arrival would be the means of extinguishin g the flames of Arianism. Acacius hastened on his way, taking with him as reques ted the great Asterius, and came to Julianus. "Tell me, father," he said after greeting him, "what are your reasons for all th ese great labours that you gladly undergo?" "The worship of God," he replied, "is more precious to me than body and soul and life itself, than everything to do with life. So I try, as far as I am able, to serve him free from all stain and please him in all things." "Let me put it to you," said Acacius, "that there is a way in which you can serv e him even more greatly than you do at present. I shall not be giving you any lo gical argument, but simply put to you what I learn from the Lord's own teaching. For he asked Peter if he loved him more than the others (John.21.15), and then heard Peter say (what he knew already): 'Lord, you know that I love you.' The Lo rd then showed him what he must do to serve him even more. 'If you love me then' he said, 'feed my sheep, feed my lambs.' This also is what you must do, father. For the sheep are in great danger from the wolves, and he whom you love so grea tly also loves the sheep. It is right for lovers to do things which, when done, are pleasing to the beloved. Moreover, if you by your silence negligently allow the truth to be vigorously attacked, and do nothing to prevent the followers of truth being led astray, there is a great danger that all their many great achiev ements will be brought to naught. Your great name should be brought to the suppo rt of them in their persecution. For the leaders of the Arian abominations boast fully assert that you are on their side." On hearing this, the old man cautioned them that although silence was to be cher ished in its due context, nevertheless he would not steer clear of the noise of the city. And he set off to Antioch. After journeying through the desert for two or three days they came at nightfall to a farmhouse belonging to a rich woman. When she heard this holy band of people coming she ran out to ask their blessing , fell at their feet and begged that they should refresh themselves at her house . The old man agreed, even though he had not enjoyed such accommodation for the

previous forty years. While this admirable woman was emulating the hospitality o f Sarah (Genesis 18.6), and ministering to the needs of these holy men, her only son aged seven fell into the well in the darkness of the evening. As might be e xpected he cried out loudly, but when his mother heard she bade everyone not to worry about it but put a lid on the well while she carried on with her ministrat ions. She put the meal before the holy men, and the old man bade her to bring he r son to receive a blessing. She said he was not feeling well, but the old man p ersisted that he should be brought in. At last the woman told him what had happe ned. The old man immediately left the table, ran to the well and lifted the lid. Having called for a light to be brought he could see the boy sitting on the sur face of the water and splashing the water about childishly with his hand, thinki ng that it was all a game, when really he ought to have been dead. Ropes were br ought and let down to him so that he could be lifted up out of the well, and at once he ran to the feet of the old man. "I could see you below me in the water," he said, "lifting me up and preventing me from sinking." What a reward the woman received from the blessed man for her hospitality! I won't say any more about what happened on their journey, but when they arrived at Antioch, people came running towards him from everywhere wanting to see the man of God, each of them seeking a cure for their ills. He was living in a cave on the side of the mountain where the divine apostle Paul is said to have lived in hiding. But no sooner had they realised that he was the man they were looking for than he was struck down by a violent fever. When the great Acacius saw how ill he was and then looked at the vast crowd of people who had gathered, he wond ered whether they would all be worried about catching a disease from one who the y hoped would be able to heal them. "Don't worry," the old man said, "God will give me health if health is what is n ecessary." Having said this, he straightaway turned to prayer, according to his custom, kne eling and touching the ground with his forehead. He begged God to restore him to health if that would be of benefit to those who had gathered there. He had bare ly finished his prayer when he began to sweat profusely, which extinguished the flames of his fever. When he had freed many people from all kinds of diseases, he then went to a conv ent of religious, and as he was going through the gate a beggar who could only w alk by dragging himself along on his buttocks stretched out his hand and touched the old man's cloak. By faith his illness left him, and he jumped up and ran ab out just as well as he could before he was disabled, imitating the lame man whom Peter and John had healed. (Acts 3.8). This deed caused the whole population t o gather together; the army training ground was crowded out. The liars and decei vers were covered in shame, while the followers of truth rejoiced with tranquil minds. And from here, those who had come seeking healing carried the light of tr uth back to their own homes. A man who held one of the most important public off ices, that of signalling the beginning of each day, then sent Julianus a message asking him to come and heal him urgently of an illness. He went without delay, poured out his prayers to God and with a courteous word delivered him from his i llness, adjuring him to give all his thanks to God. After doing this and other such deeds he decided to go back to the monastic obse rvances of his cell. As he was travelling through Cyrus (about two days' journey from Antioch), he turned aside to the church of the blessed martyr Dionysius. T he people there were outstanding in the true and proper religion and worship of God, and they begged for protection from a calamity which had been foretold and which they were daily expecting. The people there were well known to be of the o rthodox [recta] religion and true worship of God, but they could foresee that a disaster was about to come upon them and they were asking him to help them avert it. For they said that Asterius, who had joined the heretical faction, had succ eeded in becoming bishop. He was well versed in the art of clever but false argu ment, was a vigorous advocate for erroneous teaching and was mounting vicious at tacks on the truth. "We fear," they said, "that many of the more simple among us may be deceived by

the way he hides his lies beneath many layers of eloquence, and throws out a web of syllogisms like a net. This is the reason why those opposed to him have call ed for help." "Don't worry," said the old man. "Join with us in beseeching God, and mingle som e bodily mortification and eloquence into your prayers." They all engaged in prayer, and on the eve of a popular feast day when that enem y of truth and defender of falsehood was planning to make a speech, he suffered a stroke, sent by God. Over the course of the day his condition worsened till he departed this life, doubtless hearing a voice saying, 'You fool, this day your life is required of you (Luke 12.20), and you will be ensnared in the coils and traps that you have prepared for others.' A similar tale is told of Balaam, who when summoned by the wicked Balak to utter curses against the people of God prop hesied that he would instead be killed by the right hand of Israel (Numbers 24.1 7). So likewise Asterius, thinking to propagate his deceitful opinions among the people of God, by the God of the people was deprived of his life. This delivera nce was granted to Cyrus through prayer. It was the great Acacius who told me all these events which I have related, to m y mind a truly divine story. He was acutely aware of everything that Julianus di d. He went away from there and returned to his companions, living among them for so me time before moving on gladly and willingly to a trouble-free life of old age. As one who had prayed for passionlessness in this life he was looking forward t o immortality of the body. But I shall now turn from him to someone else, standi ng in prayer and begging that all who read this tale will by their prayers obtai n for me a blessing from heaven. Chapter III MARCIANUS So glorious was his life, how can I possibly have enough time to do justice to t hat celebrated Marcianus? For he along with Elijah and John and the like are to be reckoned among those who wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, being in want, afflicted, tormented, of whom the world was not worthy, wandering in dese rts, in mountains, in caves and in hidden places of the earth (Hebrews 11.37). His native land was that Cyrus which we were writing about earlier. Later he liv ed in the desert. He has now departed from both native land and desert and has h is dwelling in heaven. His native land gave birth to him, the desert nourished h im and gave him the victory, and heaven accepted him as a crowned king who had h eld as naught his exalted family rank. For he came from a noble family of royal splendour, among whom he prospered, nature's handiwork having given him a magnif icent bodily appearance and a mind adorned with the marks of genius. But he tran sferred all his love towards God and everything to do with him. He cherished all God's commandments, he laid hold on the lifeline offered by sol itude, and built himself a little shelter, barely big enough for his bodily need s, which he surrounded with a wall. There he purposefully shut himself up, cut o ff from all human intercourse, conversing however with the God of all, and liste ning for his sweet voice. For as he practised divine eloquence so he reckoned to hear the divine voice. He conversed with God in prayer and supplications, and a lthough always enjoying great delights was always thirsting for more [lit. never accepted satiety]. For he listened to what the great David sang about in his ps alms: 'He who meditates on the law of the Lord day and night is like a tree plan ted by the waterside, which shall bring forth its fruit in due season and its le aves shall not wither' (Psalms 1.3). He longed for this fruit and joyfully embra ced the work. His psalmody led on to prayer, and prayer led on to psalmody, and both led on to reading the wisdom of the divines. He ate nothing but bread, whic h he measured out exactly; and the amount he allowed himself would scarcely have satisfied a newly-weaned child. They say that he divided a pound of bread into four portions which he shared out over four days, one part to each day. His dail y meal was at eventide. He never fully satisfied either his hunger or his thirst ; he allowed his body only sufficient to support life. He used to say that to ta

ke food only after many days fasting meant that the work of God could not be pro perly performed during the time of fasting, and that when the time came to eat, a greater amount than usual was taken, weighing down the stomach, and making the mind less vigilant. So that it was better to eat daily, but never to satisfy th e appetite fully. True fasting consists in perpetual deprivation. This divine ma n always kept to this regimen, and although he had a large body, and was the tal lest and most handsome of all the men of his time, he survived on that small rat ion of food. After some time he accepted two attendants, Eusebius who inherited his holy shel ter, and Agapetus who introduced all these angelic rules into Apamea. There is a large and densely populated town there called Nicerte, where he established two schools of wisdom [gymnasia philosophiae], one of which is named after him, the other after the greatly admired Simeon who was a shining light of wisdom there for a space of fifty years. At the present day there are more than forty men liv ing there, athletes striving after virtue, and lovers of the religion and worshi p of the one true God, and who are scaling the heights of heaven by their labour s. Agapetus and Simeon were the legislators of this republic, establishing the l aws which they had learnt from the great Marcianus. It would be difficult to enu merate the many settlements, founded in pursuit of the virtues, and governed by these same laws and institutions, which these two founded. But the founder of al l these later ones was that divine Marcianus, for he who sows the goodliest seed may rightly be recognised as the author of the good fruits that spring from it.

Chapter III, Marcianus (continued) Book IX (Eusebius begins further down page) At first, as I have said, he willingly lived alone in his prison, and when he ad mitted those other two they did not live in the same cell, for it was hardly big enough for him alone, it was so small. It needed a great effort for him both to stand up and lie down, for when he stood his head and neck touched the roof, an d he could not stretch out his legs when lying down because the length of the ce ll did not match the length of his body. So he let them build another shelter an d told them to live there and pray and sing hymns and read the wisdom of the div ines by themselves. When even more wanted to share in this profitable way of lif e he ordered another dwelling to be erected further off and bade those live in i t who would. Eusebius was their leader, handing on the teaching of the great Mar cianus. But when the divine Agapetus had become well trained and established, he went back home, as I have said, and sowed the seed which he had been given by t hat divine Marcianus. However, he became so well known and famous that he was he ld to be worthy of pontifical honour. Pastoral care was committed to his charge, the care of his native land was entrusted to his faithfulness. Eusebius however, that admirable man, leader of a gathered flock, undertook the role of teacher, and alone was allowed the honour of visiting Marcianus as often as he wished, to consult him on whatever he wanted. One night he was bold enoug h to approach Marcianus' window, because he wanted to know what he was doing, an d as he bent down to peer in, he saw a light of supernal beauty shining round th e head of his guide, a light not caused by human hand but by God, teaching him h ow to understand the divine eloquence of the sacred Scriptures. For he was holdi ng a book in his hand, searching for the most holy treasures of the will of God. This sight filled the admirable Eusebius with enormous awe and fear as he was b eing taught how grace was poured out upon this minister of God, and witnessed th e good will of God towards his servants. Once while the great Marcianus was praying just outside his door, a reptile [dra co] crawled over the eastern wall and looked down from the top of the wall on Ma

rcianus. It was hissing, and looked most horrible as it threatened to attack. Eu sebius was standing some way off, terrified by this sight. Suspecting that his t eacher was not aware of the beast he shouted out a warning, and begged him to fl ee. But Marcianus rebuked him and told him not to be afraid, (for to be afraid w as a most injurious defect). Then he made the sign of the cross with his finger, and blew with his mouth at the beast, and poured out upon it all the enmity of the ages. It sizzled up immediately at Marcianus' breath as if scorched by fire, and was blown into fragments like sparks among the stubble. See now how this se rvant of goodwill was imitating the Lord. For when the Lord was at sea in the di sciples' boat he saw how anxious and troubled they were, and did not still the t empest before he had rebuked the disciples for their little faith (Matthew 8.26) . Following this example, the admirable Marcianus first quelled his disciple's f ear, then punished the beast. Such was the wisdom of the great Marcianus, and hi s performing of miracles and faithfulness towards God. But although he was honou red with such grace as to be able to perform great miracles, he tried always to conceal his power, ever wary of the tricks of that plunderer of virtue who might subtly sow the vice of arrogance in an endeavour to snatch away the harvest gat hered with so much labour. But although he wanted to hide the graces given him, miracles flowed forth from him unbidden; the splendour of his deeds rightly shon e out, and laid bare his hidden powers. Sometimes, something like this happened: There was a man of honourable estate, a military commander, whose daughter had f or a long time been raving in her speech, driven mad by the attack of an evil de mon. This man had already had some contact with the great Marcianus, and came ou t into the desert hoping that in view of his former acquaintance he would be per mitted to meet him and ask for help. But it was a false hope. He was prevented f rom getting an interview by the old man who at that time had been given the task of serving Marcianus. So he asked this servant if he would just take a small fl ask of oil and put it outside the door of Marcianus' little cell. The servant re peatedly said he would not do it, and the request was just as often repeated, un til at last he gave way. But when the great Marcianus heard a little noise outsi de he asked who it was, where did he come from and what did he want. And the ser vant suppressed the truth, and simply said he had come to see whether Marcianus wanted anything. He had scarcely uttered the words before Marcianus sent him awa y. Next morning the girl's father asked if he could have the flask of oil back. In some trepidation the servant went as quietly as possible, and tried to reach out his hand and pick up the flask without being heard. But Marcianus once again as ked him what he wanted. But when he gave the same reply as he had given the even ing before, the man of God would not accept it, seeing that it was quite unusual for him to come as often as that. He demanded to be told the truth. Realising t hat it was impossible to deceive someone so full of grace, the servant in fear a nd trembling told him who it was who had been seeking help because of this tragi c disease, and showed him the flask. Marcianus was angry, because it stood to re ason that he was unwilling to display his power. "If I hear of anything like this again," he threatened, "going against my usual customs as you are, I shall take your ministry away from you." (For anyone who k new how to make money out of it, that would be a great loss.) He then dismissed him, telling him to return the flask to the owner. And he also issued commands: and the demon who was four days' journey away bellowed because of the power of t hose commands. For Marcianus was acting like a judge in Berhoea, and using some of his lictors against the demon. That wicked wretch was expelled, and the girl delivered completely from what was possessing her. The girl's father was inform ed about this as he returned. For while still a few miles from the city, a serva nt sent from the girl's mother came running towards him and told him that a mira cle had occurred about four days earlier. Taking account of the time, he calcula ted that that was exactly when the old man had given him back the flask. It occu rs to me to wonder what this great man might not have done if he had really set his mind to doing miracles. If such glory shone out when he was trying to concea l the powers that he had been given, what miracles might he not have done if rea

lly tried! When he finally allowed people to visit him, on the day after celebrating the sa cred passion and resurrection of the Lord, all were very eager to see him. The l eading bishops gathered around him, the great Flavianus, whose faith was believe d to have saved Antioch, the divine Acacius whom we mentioned earlier, Eusebius the bishop of Chalcedon, and Isodorus who at that time had charge of Cyrus, all of whom were men of great renown. Theodotus also joined them, he who held the re ins of the church of Hierapolis, famous for his monastic discipline and gentlene ss. Many from among the judiciary also came, burning with faithful zeal. As they were all sitting around silently, waiting to hear his sacred voice, he also sat there for quite some time without saying anything, 'slow to speak, but swift to hear' (James 1.19). At last one of those sitting around spoke up. Marcianus kne w him well for he had come to Marcianus for spiritual guidance, and was well kno wn in other ways for his authority and worthiness. "Father," he said, "all these divine fathers are hopefully thirsting for the swe et streams of your teaching. Please do not dam up the rivers of your kindness, b ut favour all those here with something of benefit to us." He sighed deeply and then spoke. "The God of all", he said, "speaks to us daily through his creation, and through the divine Scriptures he teaches what we need, and forewarns us; he alarms with threats of punishment, and encourages us by his promises; and yet we do not pro fit by them." What was the purpose of Marcianus speaking like this, not only forbearing to be of use to others but also losing the benefits that others could have given him? He did it to encourage the other fathers to speak; but I feel it would be superf luous to bring what they said into my narrative. When they had all stood up to p ray, they wanted to lay hands on Marcianus to ordain him to the priesthood, but they were apprehensive of doing so. They all urged each other to do it, but none of them was willing. And so they all departed. I would like to add another story to the above, as an illustration of his divine prudence. A certain Avitus had gone into the desert earlier than Marcianus, and built a hut in which to carry out his monastic exercises. He had begun his labo urs at an earlier time than the great Marcianus, a lover of wisdom, and well tra ined in a hard ascetic life. When he heard of the virtues of Marcianus who was b eing talked about everywhere, he thought that such an example was very beneficia l in the cause of silence and restfulness and set out to visit this attractive m an. When the great Marcianus knew he had come he opened his door and welcomed hi m in, giving instructions to the admirable Eusebius to prepare some lentils and vegetables for him to eat. After they had satisfied their desire to have a conve rsation and learned about each other's virtues they said the office of Nones tog ether. Eusebius then brought in some bread for their meal. "Come now, my most dear friend," the great Marcianus said to the divine Avitus, " Let us share this meal together." "Indeed," said Avitus, "I don't know whether I have ever eaten before Vespers, a nd sometimes I go two or three days without eating at all." "But for my sake," said the great Marcianus, "let your custom be relaxed today, for I have rather a weak body and I cannot wait until Vespers." But these words had no effect whatsoever on the admirable Avitus. Marcianus sighed and went on t o say: "I am vexed in spirit and take it very hard that you have gone to such trouble t o come and see a man whom you thought to be such a hard worker and lover of wisd om only to be disappointed of your hope and find a petty innkeeper living in del icate luxury." Avitus was cut to the quick. "I would rather eat flesh," he said, "than to hear you say such things." "Well, my friend," said the great Marcianus, "I too follow the same life as you do, and embrace the same code of behaviour, and prefer work to idleness, and fas ting to feasting, and do not usually eat till nightfall, but we know that charit y is more important than fasting. Charity is prescribed by divine law, fasting i s for us to make our own decision about. We must hold that the divine laws are m

ore important for us." And so they discussed these things among themselves, and took a little food, and praised God, and spent three days together before taking their leave of each ot her, knowing that they were united in spirit. How can anyone not admire the wisd om that governed everything this man did? He knew when it was a time for fasting and when for fraternal charity, he understood how one virtue differed from anot her, and which one should give way to the other and gain the victory in any give n set of circumstances. There is something else I can tell you to illustrate his perfect grasp of things divine. His sister came to visit him from their native land, bringing her son w ith her who was a leading citizen of the city of Cyrus. They brought an abundanc e of gifts for him to enjoy. He refused to see his sister, but seeing that it wa s at the time which he had definitely set aside for meeting people, he did admit the son, who begged him to accept the gifts they had brought. "How many monasteries have you visited on the way," he asked, "and how much of w hat you bring have you shared out with them?" "Nothing," he replied. "Well, you can go, and take your gifts with you. I have no need of any of them, and even if I did need them I would not accept them, for you are doing this kind ness simply because I am a relation of yours, and not with any intention of godl y piety and service. You would not have singled me out for these gifts had you n ot had no care whatsoever for the general need." And so he sent away his sister and her son, having given instructions that nothi ng which they had brought should be accepted from them. To act thus is of course contrary to nature, but he had been completely converted to a heavenly style of living. What more convincing evidence could there be brought that he was a wort hy follower of God, conformed to the voice of God himself, who said 'For whosoev er does not renounce father and mother, and sisters and brothers and wife and ch ildren is not worthy of me.' (Matthew 10.37)? If someone who renounces not is un worthy, someone who does renounce, especially in such exact and demanding terms, must obviously be considered worthy indeed. Even more than this I admire how completely perfected he was in the matter of di vine teaching. For he abhorred the infamies of Arius, who at that time was in th e ascendant because of the power of the Emperor. He detested also the madness of Apollinaris and strenuously opposed those who agreed with Sabellius that the th ree persons or hypostases were not individually distinct. He brought strong argu ments to bear on the people called 'Euchitae', who, wearing monastic habits, wer e infected with Manichaeism. And he was so zealous for ecclesiastical regulation s that he could undertake a justifiable dispute even against a man who was a gre atly respected divine. For there was a certain Abraham in that desert, with silv ered hair but even more silvery in prudence, well known for every virtue, and co ntinually pouring forth fruitful tears of compunction. Endowed with a certain si mplicity he had from the beginning kept up the earlier celebration of Easter. Un aware, it seems, of what the Nicaean fathers had decreed on this matter, he was happily keeping to the old custom. There were many others at that time who were unwittingly doing the same. But the great Marcianus brought many arguments to be ar as he attempted to persuade Abraham (for so he was called by those who lived in that region) to come into agreement with the Church. When he continued to be disobedient, Marcianus excommunicated him. But as time went on that divine man t hrew off that stain on his character, and fell into line with the customs of the Church in celebrating this feast, singing 'Blessed are the undefiled in the way , who walk in the law of the Lord' (Psalms 119.1). Such was the effect of the gr eat Marcianus' teaching. There were many people building oratories in various places: Alypius, his sister 's son, in Cyrus, Zenobia, a famous one in Chalcedon, which was noted for its po wer and very rich. And there were quite a few others who were competing with eac h other in making plans to snatch that illustrious athlete's body, once he had o btained the victory [i.e. 'died']. When the man of God got to know about that he made the admirable Eusebius swear a terrifying oath that he would bury him in a place where nobody except the two companions who were living with him would dis

cover where his grave was until many years later. The admirable Eusebius fulfill ed this oath to the letter. For when the end of this remarkable, victorious life came at last, and the chorus of Angels had translated his divine and sacred sou l to the heavenly regions, Eusebius did not announce his death until with two co mpanions he had dug a grave, put the body in it, and smoothed out the earth abov e it. For more than fifty years many people came searching for his body, but his grave remained undiscovered. Now one of the oratories which I just mentioned, dedicated to the apostles, rece ived the relics of some other martyrs, thereby signifying that they were inherit ors of the teaching and worship of those martyrs. The sole survivor of the three who buried Marcianus then revealed the place where he was buried, and the membe rs of the oratory placed the remains of his precious body in a stone coffin whic h they had prepared two years earlier. The admirable Eusebius had long been emulating the virtues of Marcianus, and nev er ceased disciplining his body. He carried around on his body a hundred and twe nty Roman pounds of iron, then added on first another fifty which belonged to th e divine Agapetus, then eighty belonging to the great Marcianus. He had an orato ry in a hollow, from which the waters of a lake had been drained. He carried on this way of life for three years. I have digressed into talking about these things because I wanted to show how gr eat and how many were the deeds meticulously and virtuously carried out, of whic h Marcianus was the instigator and inspiration. The fruit resulting from his lov e of wisdom was also recognised by that splendid man Basil, who much later built a monastery at Seleucobelum, a city in Syria. He was famous for all kinds of vi rtues, but especially for those things most pleasing to God, namely the possessi on of charity and the godly work of hospitality. But who could count up, without boasting, how many workmen there were who 'handled rightly the word of truth', as the apostle puts it? (2 Timothy 2.15). For the moment I shall pass over many who were worthy of praise, lest they make this story too long. I shall just make mention of one only: There was one whom they called Sabinus who used to come to Marcianus regularly. He used to subject his body to many labours. He never ate bread, nor anything wh ich usually went with it; his sole food was flour mixed with water. His custom w as to mix enough for a month, and it became mouldy and stank. By this diet he wa nted to weaken the desires of the flesh, and make sure that the stench of the fo od saved him from taking any pleasure in it. [lit. enjoyment grew weaker through the stench of the food). This was his regime when on his own, but when any of h is companions visited him he would with complete simplicity and lack of fuss eat whatever it was they brought with them. As an example of how blessed he was by God's grace, a certain woman of Antioch, very influential because of her wealth and family, came to him begging his help for her daughter who was vexed with a demon. "I saw in a dream," she said, "someone telling me to come here so that the praye rs of the top person of the monastery might heal my child." "The top person of the monastery," said the gatekeeper, "is not in the habit of talking with women." But the woman persisted, weeping and howling and making a very loud noise until the prior [praefectus] came out. "This is not the man," she said. "It was someone else that was shown to me in my dream, someone with a ruddy face and hard patches of skin on his knees." Then they knew who it was she was looking for, and they persuaded him to come ou t and see the woman. No sooner had she recognised his face than the evil demon w ent out of the girl with a loud cry. Such were the marvellous deeds done by the disciples of Marcianus' disciples; so many flowers did this best of gardeners pr opagate everywhere. But here I must bring this story to an end, and I beg and pray that all these di sciples may plead for me, and bring me help from heaven. Chapter IV EUSEBIUS

In the tales that I have written so far I have shown how the sterile desert has brought forth fruits unto God, fruits ripe and beautiful, pleasing to him who ma de them grow, splendid and greatly to be sought after by people who are wise. Le st anyone should think that such virtue is circumscribed by place and that only the desert is suitable for bringing forth such a harvest, let us now go on to tr eat prayerfully of places which are inhabited and show that such places provide no impediment to developing a love of wisdom. There is a high mountain to the east of Antioch and to the west of Berhoea, whic h is higher than all the other mountains nearby. The very top of it is shaped li ke a crown [uncertain text here], called thus because of its height. People livi ng nearby call it korufhn, that is, vertex [= 'whirlpool, summit or crown']. At the highest point there was once a temple to the demons, held in greatest honou r by the local people. But underneath it, to the South, a plain opens up, or rat her, a valley, bounded on each side by gentle slopes. These slopes which are cut through on each side from south to North to provide footpaths, spread out to a road which can be ridden along on horseback. Country houses both large and small have been built here, near the mountains on each side. Hard by the edge of the highest part of the mountain there is a large, well populated village. The local people call it Teleda. Higher up still on the side of the mountain is a mountai n valley, not very steep but gently sloping, facing the plain and the south wind . Here a certain Ammianus built a school for lovers of wisdom [i.e, a monastery]. He was a man well known for his many virtues and surpassed all others in modesty , and sufficient proof of that lies in that he often had recourse to the great E usebius in order to provide satisfactory teaching material not only for his fell ows but for twice as many others as well. He begged and prayed that Eusebius wou ld consent to be helper, trainer and schoolmaster for this establishment which h e had founded. Now Eusebius lived twenty-five miles away, shut up in his tiny little dwelling w hich did not even have any windows. It was Marcianus who had inspired him to thi s pitch of endeavour, Marcianus who had nurtured him, Marcianus the faithful ser vant of God, given the same name (1 Chronicles 6.49) as the Lord honoured the gr eat Moses with. And once Marcianus had tasted for himself the divine love, he di d not want to be the only one to enjoy such good things but caused many others t o become his companions in this love. He attracted Eusebius to him and also his brother who accompanied him. For he thought it would be unreasonable to encourag e people to be virtuous who were not related, if he did not treat brothers the s ame. He drew both of them into his little household, and trained them in living according to the gospel. But their training was interrupted when the brother fel l ill, and death followed soon after. A few days after his brother had departed the great Eusebius came completely to terms with the fact that his life had ende d, and remained with Marcianus throughout his life, speaking to no one, hidden f rom public view, totally enclosed. He continued to embrace this life after Marci anus' death, until the admirable Ammianus came to him with many persuasive argum ents. "Tell me, O best of men," said Ammianus, "Whom do you think you are pleasing by following this laborious, mean and squalid lifestyle?" "God," replied Eusebius, speaking to him as an equal, "for God is the lawgiver a nd guide to all virtue."

Chapter IV, Eusebius (continued), Book IX (Publius begins further down page) "If you love God," said Ammianus, "I will show you a way whereby you may burn wi

th love even more, and serve him whom you love. For it seems to me that all your care and industry is directed towards yourself, and lays you open to the charge of too great a self-love. But the divine law bids us love our neighbour. This i s the essence of the true gift of charity, however many works you undertake to p erform (Romans 13.9-10). And Paul calls this the fulfilment of the law (Galatian s 5.14). Indeed the Lord himself in the sacred Gospel urged Peter, who professe d to love him more than the others, to feed his sheep (John 21.15). And he rebuk es those who do not do this, saying through the Prophet, 'You shepherds, is it n ot yourselves you are feeding, not the sheep?' (Ezekiel 34.2). It was on that ac count that he commanded the great Elijah to turn from the life of solitude and g o among the ungodly (1 Kings 18.1), and following Elijah, he sent John, famous f or so many works, to the banks of the Jordan, where he baptised and preached (Ma tthew 3.1). So then seeing that you too are an ardent lover of God who made you, bring on many others to be lovers of God along with you, for this would be grea tly pleasing to the family of God. Moreover he also called Ezekiel to be a watch man and to testify to the wicked (Ezekiel 3.17); Jonah he commanded to hasten to Nineveh, and when he refused took him there under duress." This and similar arguments softened the divine man's resistance. He abandoned hi s prison of his own accord, and Ammianus led him out and took him away and entru sted to him the care of his fellow-monks. I don't know which to admire more, the self effacing nature of the one, or the obedience of the other and the fact tha t he was willing to be persuaded. The one forbore the leadership, preferring rat her to be among those who obeyed, avoiding the dangers of high position; the gre at Eusebius, who had turned away from mixing with the multitude, gave that up, a nd, conquered by the demands of charity, accepted the oversight of the flock and guided their common life. He did not need to make use of long speeches in his t eaching; his look was often enough sufficient to restore quickly even the lazies t to the path of virtue, for those who knew him say that he was always of a grav e countenance, able to strike fear into those who confronted him. He himself took food only every third or fourth day, but those living with him h e bade to eat every other day. He urged everyone to pray assiduously to God and to fill every minute with this work. The set offices should be said in common, a nd in the intervening spaces of the day each one should pray to God and seek for salvation, whether under the shade of some tree, or near some rock or wherever they might be, either standing up or lying down. And he taught that each part of the body should be trained to do only such things as were according to reason. To make this more obvious to everyone I shall just mention one story about him: He and the admirable Ammianus would sit on a rock, and one would read out storie s from the divine gospels while the other would explain the meaning of some of t he more difficult bits. On one occasion Eusebius' attention was distracted by ga zing at some farmers working in a field below. When Ammianus had read a portion of the gospel and asked for his comments, Eusebius asked him to read it again. "It's obvious," said Ammianus, " that you have been so taken up with looking at the ploughmen that you have not heard a word I have said." From that time onwards he made a rule for his eyes that they should not gaze out over the fields, or enjoy the beauty of the heavens and the sight of the starry skies, but keep them directed to a narrow path, traditionally of only a handbre adth's width, which would be conducive to prayer. From then on he did not allow himself to stray from this path, and they say that he lived according to this la w for the next forty years. In order to force himself to keep to this intention, he constructed an iron chain to put round his neck in addition to the chain whi ch he already wore round his loins, so that weighed down by them he would carefu lly keep his eyes always directed to the ground. This was the punishment he infl icted on himself for gazing at those farmers. Many more things besides were told me by those who knew him and understood his w ay of life. That great old Acacius whom I have mentioned before also told me tha t when he saw how curved his back was he asked him what was the point of never a llowing himself to look at the sky or look out over the fields, and never to dev iate from this narrow way. "I started these things up against the machinations of the evil enemy," he repli

ed. "I was trying to distract his attention towards things of lesser importance in order to prevent him from making war against me in the big things, such as tr ying to rob me of temperance and justice, stirring up anger in me, making me bur n with lust, making me arrogant and swell with pride and anything else he might devise against my soul. For if he had conquered me in these lesser things it wou ld not have caused me any great harm, but if he had been conquered it would have made him look the more ridiculous for not having been able to come out on top e ven in matters so trifling. I realised that this type of warfare was less danger ous, for I would not have been seriously damaged if I slipped up slightly. So I transferred to this type of warfare, as I would not be very greatly damaged if I did slip up and look at the fields or the sky; he could not strike me down or d estroy me in such matters, there are not any death dealing weapons in them, lack ing any sharp iron points as they do." The great Acacius assured me he had heard Eusebius say all this, to the admirati on of his wisdom, warlike virtue and experience. Therefore he repeated it to any one who wanted to learn about such things, as being something admirable and wort hy of being committed to memory. His reputation spread into all parts and attracted many lovers of virtue to him, especially Agrippa and Jacobus Persa, outstanding leaders of the flock, divine men who succeeded the old man Julianus whose story we have told above. After Jul ianus came to the end of this life and passed to the life above they hastened to the great Eusebius, rightly considering it better to be ruled than to rule in a position of superiority. In what I have already said about Jacobus I briefly summed up his virtues, but n ow I shall show more plainly how great was his love of wisdom. For as the divine Eusebius was on the point of leaving this world he asked Jacobus to take on the leadership of the flock. But he refused this responsibility, and unable to sati sfy those who wanted him to take it on, went to another flock, preferring to be fed rather than to feed, and came thus to the end of his life after many years. It was Agrippa who took this leadership on, a man adorned with many good qualiti es, especially purity of soul by means of which he eagerly sought after the visi on of divine beauty and burned with the fire of love. His cheeks were perpetuall y furrowed by tears. After feeding that chosen, divine flock for many years he d eparted this life, and the divine David took on the leadership. I myself was abl e to profit from his personality. He was a man who truly followed the injunction of the Apostle to 'mortify his me mbers which were on earth' (Colossians 3.5). He had benefited so much from the t eaching of the great Eusebius that he lived for forty-five years in the monaster y without any outbursts of anger in all that time. Even after he had taken on th e leadership no one ever saw him in a state of agitation, even though there were many things that might have upset him. A hundred and fifty men were nurtured by his skill. Some, helped by his excellent and unsurpassed virtue, were able to i mitate him in 'having his conversation in heaven' (Philippians 3.20). Others too k wings for the first time and were taught how to rise above the world and fly. But if it became obvious that out of the many who were taught such divine things some were failing (for it is hardly possible that those attempting this life sh ould always be faultless), that divine man remained completely unmoved; nothing that happened could make him lose his temper. I know this not merely by hearsay but from experience. I had long desired to visit this community, and when I did so with several other pilgrims who followed the same way of life as I did, we st ayed a whole week with this divine man and never saw his expression change once. He was never either convulsed with mirth or bowed down by sorrow. His eyes like wise were never sometimes screwed up and savage, sometimes twinkling, but mainta ined unwaveringly a serene and straightforward expression. I think I have said enough to demonstrate his tranquillity of soul, and some mig ht think that nothing ever moved him at all. So I must needs tell you something which happened while we were there. That divine man was having a session with us expounding on the love of wisdom, and considering the question of what was the highest form of living the evangelical life, when the presentation of his opinio ns was interrupted by one Publius, a Roman by race, a man of impeccable morals,

endowed with the honour of the priesthood and holding the second highest positio n in that hierarchy [illius praefecturae secundas partes obtinens]. He spoke for cefully against the divine David, saying that his mildness was a common scandal, and that his clemency was disastrous for everyone, and that his idea of the hig hest form of the love of wisdom was not good sense [modestia] but madness [ament ia]. But David's composure was rock-like. He listened to the argument, was not i n the least bit injured by such words, which by their very nature are designed t o cause injury. The expression on his face did not change, he did not refuse to continue with the conference, but answered his opponent with a calm voice and ge ntle words which gave outward expression to his serenity of soul. He spoke as on e who could bring healing to whoever wanted it. Along with those who came with m e, I speak, as you can see, as one who thinks healing was needed. How could anyone have shown greater gentleness of spirit? As one of the highest rank he put up with insults from one of the second rank in the presence of many guests who heard these insults, and yet was not subject to any angry outburst or upset which might have overcome the equanimity of even the greatest and highest spiritual virtue. The divine Apostle himself, when dealing with the weakness of human nature, controlled though it should be by laws appropriate to that nature , said 'Be angry and sin not; let not the sun go down upon your wrath' (Ephesian s 4.26 & Psalms 4.4). For he knew that it is part of our nature to be moved by a nger even when we do not want to be, and that the law does not help us in making difficult decisions which we might not even be able to carry out. He allowed a whole day in which to be moved by the natural storms of anger, expecting it be c onstrained by reason, to be held in as with a bridle, and not allowed to be give n its full expression. But this divine man contended with the law as laid down a nd 'leapt over the wall' (Psalms 18.29). Not content with allowing his anger to last till evening, he did not allow himself to be angry at all. Such was the res ult of having been taught by the great Eusebius. I saw many others in that house who loved and emulated his love of wisdom, some in the flower of youth, others in extreme old age. Even those who had got to the age of ninety were reluctant to modify their laborious way of life, but maintai ned with great credit the disciplines of their youth, praising God day and night , and performing their sacred duties, surviving on unattractive food taken every two days. To prevent this story becoming unduly prolonged let me omit some who do not real ly deserve to be passed over, but are worthy of being praised and celebrated. I will just mention one more who lived in that divine place, a man called Amman wh o hailed from the tribe of Ishmael. He had not, however, been driven out from th e house of Abraham as had he from whom his tribe is named (Genesis 16.11), but s hared in the inheritance of his father Isaac, or rather, he had taken the kingdo m of heaven by storm (Matthew 11.12). He had persevered in the practice of monas tic discipline under someone called Marosas, whose life in the desert gave them both an excellent opportunity to develop. Marosas gave up acting as superior to others, and with Amman came to this monastery [sc. Eusebius' monastery], where h e lived for but a short while with diligent discipline and outstanding distincti on before departing this life. Amman however lived for another thirty-eight year s. His enthusiasm for the work was as great as if he had only just begun. Day by day he never wore shoes. In wintertime he would sit in the shade, in the heat o f summer he would sit in the sun, and would endure the scorching fire of it as i f it were the gentlest of Zephyr breezes. He did not allow himself to drink any water, he did not even eat the sort of food which was used by others who abstain ed from water (for they used to eat food which was well soaked in water), but at e the sane food as everyone else. Eating such small quantities, sufficient to gi ve him a reasonable amount of energy, he deemed water to be superfluous. His loi ns were bound with heavy iron chains, he rarely sat down, night and day he eithe r stood or knelt, offering the Lord the sacrifice of prayer. He never reclined [ sc. at meals], and no one night or day ever saw him lying down completely. And i ndeed, when he was made leader of the choir, did he not apply himself to this la bour with prompt and eager attention, giving an example of his love of wisdom to those under him?

This is what those outstanding warriors were like whom the divine Eusebius, as t heir schoolmaster and trainer, was able to offer to the Lord. He produced many m ore like that, and sent them as teachers to other monasteries, where they filled those sacred landscapes with spiritual meadows, giving off a sweet scented odou r. So although this house of monastic training was originally in the East, it se ems to have become an embryonic love of wisdom, coming to birth in the West and South, as if forming a choir of stars encircling the moon, giving praise to thei r creator, some in Greek, some in the language of the place where they lived. Bu t I am attempting things beyond my capabilities in my desire to portray all the noble deeds which sprang from that divine soul. So I put a stop to this narrative and turn to another, confident of the benefits to be gained as I beg to share in blessings from these great men. Chapter V PUBLIUS At that same time there was a certain Publius who was very comely to look upon, and blessed with a soul appropriate for such a body, or rather, giving proof in the body of the admirable qualities of his soul. He was of a senatorial family, born in Zeugma, a city associated with Xerxes, whose fame is everywhere known. X erxes while fighting in a Grecian war and wanting to send his army across the Ri ver Euphrates gathered a great number of ships, joined them together and thus ma de a bridge over the river. He called the place Zeugma, that is, 'Bridge', and t he city takes its name from that. Coming from such a city and born into such a family, Publius took possession of a site high up about thirty miles from the city, where he built himself a little dwelling place, and then sold everything left to him by his father: house, poss essions, flocks, clothing, vessels both of silver and bronze, and everything els e there was. In accordance with the divine law he shared it all out among the ne edy and freed himself from all worldly cares, taking upon himself one single car e only, to serve him who had called him. Night and day he turned things over in his mind, planning and devising means of growing in this service, with the resul t that he daily took on more and more. Each day became fuller and more intense, which he found to be sweet and pleasurable, though never enough to satisfy him c ompletely. No one ever saw him idle at any time during the day. If he wasn't pra ying he was psalmodising, if not psalmodising he was praying, both of these thin gs alternating with the reading of the divine scriptures. Besides this, he saw t o the needs of visitors who came to him and carried out other necessary tasks. A s he went on in this kind of life he became an example of virtue to anyone who h ad a mind to follow him, and like a singing bird he enticed into his saving net many others like him. Right from the beginning, however, he did not let anyone share his dwelling plac e but built little huts for them at a suitable distance nearby. He bade each per son who came to him to live by himself, constantly visiting them, and keeping a sharp eye out lest anyone should be changing this custom. They say also that he took with him a pair of scales and carefully weighed out the bread, and if he fo und anyone with more of it than he should he would be very angry and call them g luttons. He taught that they should never eat and drink to satiety but take only so much as was necessary to sustain the life of the body. And if ever he found anyone using flour instead of bran, he labelled them accursed as if they had bee n enjoying Sybaritic delights. And at night he would appear unexpectedly outside the door and if he found anyone to be awake and praising God he went away again , but if he found anyone asleep he would bang on the door and give him a tonguelashing, telling him he was taking far more care of his body than he needed. This was a great labour for him, and on this account some of those who were of t he same mind and opinion as he made a suggestion that he should build one house for all of them. They urged that those who were scattered about could be much mo re closely and carefully governed, and he would be freed from a considerable bur den of care. The plan was approved by this most wise man. He gathered them all t ogether, pulling down their small huts and building one house for the whole comp

any, so that they could live together and encourage each other. While one strove to be gentle, another might season his gentleness with zeal; one who could demo nstrate the value of keeping vigil might also take on the discipline of fasting. "In this way," he said, "each of us may make up for what is lacking in the other s, and strive towards the perfecting of our virtues." In the same way, while one sold bread in the market place of the city, another s old vegetables, one had clothes to sell, another made shoes. Each one contribute d to the smoothness of the life by seeing to the needs of the other. Someone who had clothes to spare could receive shoes in exchange, another who needed vegeta bles could buy them with bread. We all of us need to share our best attributes w ith each other. They all fought the ascetic battle using the same language, praising God in Gree k. But when some of those using the local language were smitten with a desire to take part in this organised life they came in a body to ask that they might als o be admitted to the community and benefit from their teaching. Their request wa s granted, and mindful of the saying of the Lord, 'Go and teach all nations' (Ma tthew 28.19), he built another house next to the first for them to live in. He t hen built a chapel and divided them into two choirs, but bade them offer the mor ning and evening prayers together at the same time at the beginning and end of e ach day, each section using their own language, but singing the psalms alternate ly. This arrangement continued up to the present day. The passing of time, which often tends to bring changes, in fact brought no alteration, for those who late r came to be in charge never took it into their heads to make any changes in wha t Publius had laid down. And this stayed the same throughout not just two or thr ee but many changes of leadership. When Publius finally won the victory and passed on to realms free from all strif e, the leadership went to Theotecnus who spoke Greek and Aphthonius who spoke Sy rian, both of whom were of such virtue as to be living icons or statues. But in dealing with those who were already there as well as those who came in from outs ide, neither of them would claim that Publius' death meant that they were puttin g themselves forward as express copies of the sort of life he had lived. Theotec nus did not live very long, and his leadership passed to Theodotus. Aphthonius h owever lasted for a long time, caring for the flock and ruling according to the laws already laid down. Theodotus came from Armenia, and when he saw how the mon astic life was ordered became the first of those who were ruled by the great The otecnus, after whose death, as I have said, he took on the leadership. He was su ch an adornment to this position that he almost eclipsed the fame of those who h ad gone before. The Love of God so filled his being and wounded him with fiery darts, that day a nd night he poured forth tears of compunction. He was so full of spiritual grace that when he was praying everyone else who was present fell silent, in order to listen only to his sacred words, reckoning that just to listen to him was a goo d prayer. Who could be so obstinate as not to be won over by those genuine words so sincerely uttered, softening all disobedience and hardness of heart and lead ing towards the service of God? He daily increased his labours, opening his trea sures full of such good things. After feeding the flock for twenty-five years he was gathered to his fathers in a good old age, as the Scriptures put it (Genesi s 25.8), having taken up the reins from Theotecnus, whose nephew he was, althoug h a brother in the way he behaved. After the divine Aphthonius had presided over the choir for forty years he was m ade a bishop [sedem accepit pontificalem], but he did not change his monastic ha bit, nor his woven tunic, nor his goatskin cloak, and he kept to the same diet a s he had always been used to. And although he had accepted this great pastoral r esponsibility he by no means neglected his own flock. He frequently came back to them, now settling a quarrel which had arisen among them, now consoling someone who had suffered an injury, now giving spiritual teaching to his companions. An d he shared in all the common tasks: sewing, cleansing lentils, washing the harv ested grain, and all the other things of that sort. He was a great ornament to t he pontificate, and when he departed to the gate of heaven it was with a full lo ad of virtues.

And what should I say about Theotecnus, and Gregory who followed him! The latter from his youth up gathered to himself all kinds of virtues, exceeding all his p redecessors in glory, and even to this day he continues to labour in his extreme old age, just as if he were still in the flower of youth. Throughout his life h e steadfastly refused to eat fruit, and would not even accept sour wine or dried grapes, and drank no milk either fresh or in the form of cheese. For this was t he way in which the great Publius had decided to live. They approved of using ol ive oil at Pentecost, but refused it at other times. These are the things I have learnt about the great Publius, some by hearsay. and some from the disciples of his that I met. In these disciples I recognised the teacher, in these athletes I learned about the trainer. I think it would be a shame to have remained silent about a man of such value to the world. I have told his story for those who have never heard of him, so that I can enable them to derive benefit from it, and also that I might prepare a me morial for myself. For I have taken to heart what the Lord said: 'Whoever confes ses me before men, him shall I also confess before my father in heaven' (Matthew 10.32), and I am in no doubt that since I have made the memory of them known am ong men they also will remember me before the God of all.

Book IX (continued) (Palladius and Aphraates also further down this page) Chapter VI SIMEON PRISCUS If anyone were to think of leaving Simeon out, and consigning th e memory of his wisdom (philosophia) to oblivion, they could well be accused of being vindictive and envious of his merits. Such a person would be seen as unwil ling to praise things worthy of praise, unwilling to promote goals worthy of bei ng sought after. But it is not so much that I am afraid of being so accused, as from a simple desire to sing this man's praises, that I am describing the sort o f life that he lived. He lived the solitary life for a very long time in a small cave, with no human c ompanionship, preferring to live completely alone. He communed steadfastly with the God of all. The labour of growing edible greens for his food took up a lot o f his time. He was so copiously endowed with grace from on high that he was able to tame even the fiercest and boldest of wild beasts, and this power was manife sted not only to the faithful but even to unbelieving Jews. For some of that race were making a business journey in foreign parts to a fortr ess outside the bounds of our empire when a severe rainstorm occurred. They miss ed the pathway, not being able to see either before or behind, and wandered abou t in the desert with no sign of any village, shelter or fellow traveller. Cast o ut into this vast country, as if negotiating the waves of the rolling seas, they suddenly espied a place of refuge in the shape of Simeon's cave, together with Simeon himself, ill-kempt and unwashed, with a scanty cloak of goatskin hanging from his shoulders. When he saw them he greeted them (he was a kindly man), and asked them how it was they were passing by that way. They told him what had happ ened and asked him the way to the fortress. "If you wait for a while," he replied, "I shall soon be able to give you some gu ides to take you where you want to go." They relaxed, glad of the rest, and were sitting down, when two lions appeared, not with fierce and savage looks, but with the submissive looks of those who ack nowledge the presence of a master. Simeon made signs to them, directing them to take his guests back to the path from which they had strayed. Let no one think that this is a fairy tale, even though it is those who are comm only held to be the enemies of truth who are here bearing witness to the truth. They benefited from Simeon's act, and sang his praises everywhere. The great Jac

obus himself told me that he was there when they were talking of this miracle to the blessed Maronus. Can anyone not be deservedly held to be even more faithles s than the Jews, if he does not believe Jews bearing witness to Christian miracl es? If those who are hostile towards us can be convinced by the rays of truth, s urely those who are kindly disposed towards us, fellow citizens in the faith, ma y believe even enemies when they bear witness to the power of grace. Simeon became so famous because of his miracles that many of the neighbouring ba rbarians were attracted towards him (the desert dwellers there gloried in being of the tribe of Ishmael). But his love of silence led him to desert his cave and travel through many pathways till he arrived at the mountain called Amanus. Thi s is the place which was formerly known for the unreasoning worship of many gods , but he performed many miracles of all kinds, and planted the seeds of the devo ut and true religion which is now practised there. It would be an immense labour to tell of everything about him, and probably beyo nd my powers. But I shall have mentioned one example to show the shape and chara cter of his apostolic and prophetic miracle-working, leaving the rest to the ima gination of those readers who accept the power of this man's grace. It was summer, and harvest time, and bundles of corn were being carried into the threshing floors. And there was one man, not content with the fruits of his own labours, who coveted those of his neighbour and stole some bundles of corn in h is desire to increase his own stores. But divine judgment fell immediately upon this theft, for a bolt of lightning fell upon his threshing floor and set fire t o it. This miserable man then rushed off to the man of God, who had pitched his tent not far from the village, and told him of the calamity which had befallen h im without mentioning the theft. But when Simeon urged him to tell the truth he confessed his crime, for the very circumstances of the case proclaimed his guilt . That divine man then decreed that he would not be punished if he made amends. "If you," he said, "will return the bundles of corn to the man you stole it from , the fire sent from God will be put out." And as soon as he ran back and returned the stolen sheaves to their rightful own er the fire was extinguished without the need of any water, but simply by the pr ayers and intercessions of that divine old man. This event not only filled the local inhabitants with awe but the whole city as well - that's Antioch I am talk ing about (for the farm fell under the jurisdiction of that city) - and it made them gravitate towards him, one seeking to be liberated from a rabid demon, anot her seeking relief from a fever, others seeking medicines for whatever it was th ey were being plagued with. And he allowed the rivers of his grace to flow abund antly over those who lived there. But in his unabated love for silence he decide d to go to Mount Sinai. There were many people who also shared his love of wisdom, and when they got to know about his travels they decided to join him. After a journey of many days th ey had got as far as the desert of Sodom, when they saw in the distance a man li fting up his hands high above his head. They thought at first it was a deceit of the devil, so they prayed with deep concentration of the mind. When they looked again and saw the same thing they hurried towards the place, but found a hole s uch as wolves make when they are seeking to construct a den to hide in, but ther e was no sign of any person outside it. For when the man holding up his hands ha d heard the sound of their footsteps he had hidden himself inside it. Simeon sto pped outside and called upon him to show himself if he was really human and not a deceiving demon who had taken human shape. "For we also," he said, "follow the monastic way of life and are seekers after s ilence, travelling through this desert in the hope of adoring the God of all in Mount Sinai, where he appeared to his servant Moses and delivered to him the tab les of the law. Not that we think that God is circumscribed by considerations of place, for we hear him saying, 'I fill the heavens and the earth, saith the Lor d, and all that the circle of the earth contains. and those who live in them in number as the locusts' (Jeremiah 23.24 & 46.23). It is just that those who earne stly love God not only desire to seek out those people whom God loves, but also those places which were favourable and pleasant for them when they came there, a nd in which they dwelt."

When he had finished saying this, and much else along the same lines, the person hiding in the cave came out. He was of wild appearance, with scruffy hair, line d face, dried up and wizened in every member of his body. He was dressed in unsi ghtly garments made of palm leaves woven together. He greeted them and gave them a word of peace, and then asked them who they were, where they had come from an d where they were going. The leader replied to this request by asking him in his turn who he was, and where he had come from and where he was going, and why he was living like this. "I had the same desire as you have," he replied, "to go where you are all going. And to share this life with me I took a companion who thought as I did and had the same intention of being watchful and disciplined. And we swore an oath toget her that not even death should part us. But it has come to pass that he has come to the end of his earthly pilgrimage in this place. Bound by my oath I have dug out a tomb for him as far as I am able and buried his body in it. Because I hav e made this sepulchre for him, I have also dug out one for myself, and hope to e nd my days here, offering to the Lord the accustomed prayers. I feed on figs, wh ich are brought to me by a certain brother at the behest of him who cares for al l." As he was speaking, a lion appeared in the distance. All except the old man were frightened to death, but when he noticed it he went forward and motioned to the animal to go away, but it came closer, bringing with it a bunch of dates. It th en departed as it had been told to do, lay down some distance away and went to s leep. They all shared in the dates, said some prayers and psalms together, and a t the end of this morning office he let them go, stupefied by the strangeness of what they had witnessed. If there should be anyone who does not believe this story, let him call to mind the life of the renowned Elijah, and the ministry of the ravens who brought him bread in the morning and meat in the evening (1 Kings 17.6). It is, after all, a simple matter for the ruler of the universe to use any possible means of provid ing for the needs of his own. Likewise he preserved Jonah for three days and thr ee nights in the belly of the whale (Jonah 1.17), caused the lions to shut their mouths before Daniel in the lions' den (Daniel 6.16), and in the same manner ch anged the power of the fire so that those in the midst of it were illuminated, w hile those outside it were burnt. (Daniel 3.21-22). But really it should not be necessary for me to bring forward arguments to prove the power of God. Simeon eventually arrived at the mountain where Moses was found worthy to see Go d (or rather, saw as much of God as human nature is capable of), and they say th at he knelt there determined not to rise till he had heard the voice of God givi ng him a blessing. After staying in this position for a week, having taken no fo od, he heard a voice commanding him to pick up what had been put before him and to eat it with a keen and eager mind. He reached out his hand and found three ap ples and ate them as he had been told. His strength returned to him, and with a joyful spirit, as you might expect, he called out to his companions, and came ba ck to them jubilantly, as one who had heard the divine voice and eaten food give n him by God. He then constructed two places for the purpose of training people in the love of wisdom., the first at the top of the mountain (the place we have already mentio ned), the other one further down at the foot of the mountain. He gathered togeth er in each one athletes in pursuit of virtue, for whom he was trainer and coach. He taught them how to attack the enemy, and strengthened those who were struggl ing, bidding them be of good heart, not lazy and weak. He treated his own discip les with great discretion, but was bold of spirit towards the enemy. Thus teachi ng, living, doing miracles, displaying his glory in all kinds of ways, he at len gth came to the end of his labours in this life, and passed over to that life wh ich is free from strife and decay, leaving behind him a glory which can never be overshadowed and a memory which remains in perpetuity. My blessed and thrice bl essed mother received a blessing from him while he was still alive and has often told me many things about him. And I pray that I may benefit from the intercessions which he is able to make fo r me. I know I shall have them, and that he will surely present my petitions to

God, showing forth the compassion of God himself. Chapter VII PALLADIUS Palladius, the subject of many a discourse, was in his time Simeon's equal. His way of life was similar, he was well known as being one of the same kind [notus et familiaris]. They say that many people came to him one after another, and tha t they in turn derived great benefit from him, and that they spurred one another on in inspiring a zeal for God. He lived alone in a small dwelling, not far fro m a fairly large village called Iemme, with quite a numerous population. I need hardly say that he practised great restraint in what he ate; he fasted and lived abstemiously, with vigils and perpetual prayer. He committed himself to the sam e kind of yoke as the blessed Simeon. I thought it would be well worthwhile to t ell the story of a great miracle that he wrought both with his voice and his ges tures, and which is still celebrated to this very day. In Iemme there was a very busy market which attracted merchants from all directi ons and a numberless crowd of people. There was one merchant who decided one nig ht to go home, taking with him the money for the things he had sold. But somebod y had noticed how much money he had gathered, and in a murderous and hateful fra me of mind, banished sleep from his eyes and watched vindictively to see when th e merchant would set out. He decided to go just after cockcrow, as being a safe time, but the thief went on before him, and hid in an ideal place for an ambush. He suddenly jumped out and killed him with one blow. To this wicked deed he ad ded another, for, having stolen the money, he threw the corpse down at Palladius ' door. When daylight came, the crime was discovered and all the market was talking abou t it. They came in a body and broke the divine Palladius' door down, demanding t hat he pay the penalty for the murder, and one of the people in this mob was in fact the man who had done the murder. But although surrounded by such a crowd of people, Palladius simply gazed up at the sky, and projected his mind into the h eavens, praying to God that he would refute such a scandalous lie and reveal the hidden truth. After his prayer he took the hand of the recumbent corpse and sai d, "Speak, man. Who has inflicted this fatal blow? Show us who has committed this d readful deed and free the innocent from this false calumny." This exhortation produced results. For the dead man sat up, looked round at all those present, and pointed at the murderer. A great shout arose from the crowd, astonished at this miracle which had brought the intended false accusation to na ught. They grabbed hold of that wicked man, and found blood on his sword, and al so the money which had been the motive for the deed. If the divine Palladius had ever been worthy of admiration before, this deed makes him even more admirable. And let this miracle be quite enough to demonstrate the confidence that the man had in God. He was the same kind of person as the admirable Abraham who built Paratomon, for he shed the splendour of his virtues abroad into every land. The miracles perfo rmed after his death bear witness to the beauty of his life, for the cures of al l kinds of diseases flow from his tomb right up until the present day. The testi monies of those who have through faith abundantly enjoyed them are innumerable. I have dedicated my power of speech to maintaining the memory of them. May his a id also be given to me. Chapter VIII APHRAATES Whether you are Greek or barbarian or any other nationality, it is obvious that human nature is one and the same everywhere, and that anyone can be turned towar ds a love of wisdom. A sufficient example of this is to be found in Aphraates wi thout looking any further. For he was born and brought up in Persia, an uncivili sed nation, but in spite of his parentage and the laws under which he was educat

ed he arrived at such a peak of virtue as to overshadow even those born of devou t parents and nourished in the true faith from an early age. He was the first of that contemptible family, influential and well known though they were, to imita te his ancestors the Magi by coming to worship the Lord. Sickened by the impiety of his own nation he preferred a foreign land to his own. He came to Edessa, a great city enjoying a great number of people of deep devotion. Just outside the city he built a small dwelling for a hermitage and devoted himself to the develo pment of his spirituality, like the best of farmers weeding out the thorns of vi ce at their roots, cultivating the crop, and offering the ripened fruits of the Gospel to the Lord. From there he went to Antioch, which was then in the grip of a tempestuous heres y, and learned something of the Greek language in a school of philosophy outside the city. He attended as many lectures in divinity as possible, and using a mix ture of Greek and his own barbarian language he gave birth to a multitude of ing enious and brilliant orations, which flowed from his acceptance of the grace of the divine Spirit. Was there ever anyone who could better this unlearned, barbar ian voice from among those who peddled their own eloquence, arrogantly disputing in a high flown and decorative language, childishly glorying in their flood of syllogisms? He met their reasonings with reasoning, and overturned the arguments of the philosophers with an eloquence divine, claiming with Paul that though 'r ude in speech he was not in knowledge' (2 Corinthians 11.6). In the words of the Apostle he never ceased refuting them, 'casting down every high thing that exal ts itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every though t into the obedience of Christ' (2 Corinthians 10.5). Magistrates could be seen coming to him, military men, people learning a way of life from him, and - let me say it once for all - civilians and soldiers, learne d and illiterate, rich and poor, some who accepted in silence what was offered t hem and some who asked pertinent questions and talked a lot. And although he too k such labour upon himself he would not allow anyone else to come and live with him; he preferred doing all his own work to accepting assistance and service fro m others. People gathered together wanting to speak with him, and when they appe ared at his door he opened up to them himself, and as they were leaving he saw t hem out and bade them farewell. He took no payment from anyone, no bread, no swe ets, no clothing; all his personal needs were seen to by one person only whom he knew very well. Even in extreme old age he was accustomed to eating nothing til l after sunset, and then vegetables only. There is a story that Anthemius, who later became prefect and consul, had been t o Persia when serving as a legate, and brought to Aphraates a tunic woven in Per sia. "I know how dear each person's native land is," he said, "and how much they appr eciate anything that has been produced there, so I have brought this tunic for y ou from your native land. I beg you will accept it and give me your blessing." He bade Anthemius to put the tunic down on one of the benches, and took part in several different conversations before replying. "I am rather troubled in spirit," he said, "and find myself in two minds." "Why is that?" asked Anthemius. "I have always settled for having one person only to live with me," he said. "I made this rule for myself and won't have two people with me. After having had on e person with me who suited me very well, a fellow countryman came to me asking me to let him live with me. This bothered me. I couldn't put up with two. I was delighted to see my fellow countryman, as a fellow countryman, but I thought it would be seriously wrong to get rid of the man I already had and who suited me v ery well." "Quite right, father," said Anthemius. "You could not possibly drive out someone who had served you for such a long time, even if he had not been well-suited, a nd take in someone whose character you had not tested, simply because he was of the same nationality as yourself." "In the same way," said Aphraates, "much as I appreciate your kindness, I cannot accept your tunic. I could not abide having two of them, and I am delighted tha t your opinion is the same as mine, that the one who has served me for such a lo

ng time is the better." With these mollifying words he escaped the attentions of Anthemius, showing a mi raculously shrewd cleverness in doing so, and made sure that no one would argue with him about that tunic. I have told this story to highlight two points at once. Firstly that he would ha ve one person only to see to his personal needs, and secondly to illustrate his ingenuity in getting the would-be donor of the gift to provide from his own mout h the reason for refusing it. But I shall tell you an even greater thing than th is and other things of that sort. After Julian, the enemy of God, had paid the penalty for his wickedness in the l ands of the barbarians, there was peace for a while among the ranks of the pious while Jovinianus was Emperor of Rome, but he only reigned for a short while. Af ter he came to the end of his life [AD 364], he was succeeded by Valens, at a ti me when terrible hurricanes and storms were ravaging the Mediterranean, causing extremely high seas and many shipwrecks. The dismissal of many of those in posit ions of authority, however, caused an even greater storm. For the Emperor sent i nto exile anyone who defied him by practising the one and only true religion. Hi s wickedness and irreverence knew no bounds. He expelled and scattered abroad th e company of the faithful like a gigantic wild animal attacking and scattering t he flock. He not only drove them out from all the churches but from the mountain sides and riverbanks and the military training fields. He altered the character of those places forever where with his iron hand he happened to direct his wrath . The people all rested secure in Scythia and other barbarian places, and in Thr ace from the Danube to Propontis. He would give them a hearing with his ears twi tching, as the saying goes, but against his own kith and kin, celebrated for the ir religious devotion, he brought arms to bear. The people of God wept for the misfortunes fallen upon them, singing the song of David: 'By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept when we remembered thee, O Sion' (Psalms 137.1). But they did not find the next verse of the psalms suita ble for them ['We hanged our harps upon the willows thereof'], for Aphraates, Fl avianus and Diodorus refused to hang up the harp of their teaching on the willow trees, and would not sing: 'How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land ?' (Psalms 137.4). On the mountains and on the plains, in the city and in the su burbs, indoors and out of doors, they sang the Lord's song with all their heart. They learned from David what to sing: 'The earth is the Lord's and the fulness thereof, the circle of the world and all that live therein' (Psalms 24.1). And a gain from the same Prophet: 'Bless the Lord, all you works of his, in every plac e of his dominion' (Psalms 103.22). They heard also the divine Paul bidding the men 'to pray everywhere, lifting up holy hands free from anger and controversy' (1 Timothy 2.8). Furthermore, the Lord himself in speaking with the Samaritan wo man made it clearer still: 'Amen, I say to you, woman, that the hour is coming, and now is, that not in this place, not even in Jerusalem, but throughout the wh ole world they shall worship the Father' (John 4.21)

Chapter VIII, Aphraates (continued). Book IX (Peter begins further down this page) Acting on this, they bore witness without ceasing, at home and in the market pla ce, or, as the apostle says, 'publicly and from house to house' (Acts 20.20), an d just like the most outstanding Emperors, provided ammunition for their own peo ple and discredited their adversaries. And the great Flavianus and the divine Th eodorus, who were held in high honour in the second most important see, did like wise. What they did was certainly admirable and praiseworthy. Nevertheless they acted as officially appointed generals of an army, subject to army rules, wherea s Aphraates in his great wisdom entered into battle of his own free will. School

ed in quietness, living in solitude, secure from the threat of hostile attack, h e nevertheless saw quietness as being a valid option only when circumstances per mitted, and chose not to remain in sheltered isolation when he saw how savage th e war had become. So he became a leading light in the ranks of the faithful, pur suing the battle by his way of life, his oratory and his miracles, all that with out coming to harm himself. Now the Emperor (who was foolish in all sorts of ways) had come to understand th at Aphraates was in the habit of going to the military training fields where the company of those who joined in the true worship of the Trinity used to meet. So meone pointed Aphraates out to him walking on the banks of the river in full vie w of the Emperor, who asked him what he thought he was up to. "I am on my way to pray for the world and the Empire," he replied. "If you profess to be living the monastic life, how is it that you have abandone d your silence and quietness to wander about freely in public?" "Tell me, O Emperor," he said, speaking in parables in imitation of the Lord, "i f I were an enclosed virgin and I saw someone setting fire to the family home, w hat would you advise me to do? Just watch the flames, and the burning house, and sit there with no thought for the house being burnt? If I did that I would peri sh in the flames as well. But if you were to say that I should make haste and fe tch water, and run up and down putting out the flames, then don't reproach me, O Emperor, for doing the same sort of thing. I who profess the monastic life am c ompelled to act in the same way as you would advise the enclosed virgin. You rep roach me for abandoning my quietness. Rather direct your reproaches at yourself for setting fire to the household of God, and not at me for trying to put the fi re out. You have admitted yourself that it is right to try and save the family h ome from burning, but God is a truer and closer father than any father on earth. That is obvious, even to anyone who has not been fully instructed in matters di vine. I have not done anything unreasonable, O Emperor, or contrary to my rule, by meeting with the followers of the true religion, and cherishing them, and pro viding them with heavenly food." To these words the Emperor could not but give consent, as to a speech for the de fence which was just. Now one particular person began to declaim loudly against the divine man in publ ic places, threatening to kill him. He was one of that tribe who are neither man nor woman, who had been deprived of the ability to achieve fatherhood, and who therefore was favoured by the Emperor as someone to whom he could speak confiden tially. It was not long, however, before he paid the penalty for his malice. For when the Emperor decided to take a bath this wretch went to make sure that the bathwater was the right temperature, and in a fit of folly jumped into it, unawa re that the water was very hot indeed. There was no one else about, for he had c ome all by himself to get the bath ready, so there he stayed, cooked and done fo r! Some time passed by and the Emperor sent someone after him, who reported back to him that he was nowhere to be found. Many more joined in the searching throu gh all the bathrooms and eventually found the one in which he was lying lifeless . There was great consternation, everybody wept. Some drained the water out of the bath, others lifted the miserable man's body out. The Emperor, and all those wh o were opposing the true faith, were filled with fear as a result of this, for t he rumour spread through the whole city that the unfortunate man had suffered th is fate because of his opposition to Aphraates. Everyone was singing the praises of the God of Aphraates. Those who were against him were demanding that at the very least the man of God should be sent into exile. But the Emperor, even thoug h terrified, avoided those who tried to persuade him of this, for he had a great respect for the man. Later he had occasion to experience his power from another quarter. For he had a favourite horse, a thoroughbred, a well trained horse for riding, who fell ill, much to the Emperor's grief. The horse was constipated, and those who had skill in this field were summoned to try and effect a cure. But when the illness rema ined unbeaten the Emperor was greatly troubled, as was also the stable boy who h ad charge of the horse. This boy was devout and of a firm faith, and he brought

the horse to Aphraates in the middle of the day, identified himself as one of th e faithful, explained what the trouble was and begged Aphraates to effect a cure by his prayers. Without delay Aphraates prayed to God and ordered water to be d rawn from the well. He signed it with the saving cross and ordered that it be gi ven to the horse who drank of it even more deeply than usual. Then he invoked th e blessing of God upon some oil and anointed the horse's stomach. At the touch o f his hands the illness was immediately cured. The stable boy rejoicingly took t he horse back to the stable. That evening the Emperor came to the stable at his usual time and asked him how the horse was faring. He told him he was cured, and brought the horse out in obv ious good health, neighing and prancing and stretching out his fine neck. "How did this cure come about?" the Emperor asked. The boy hesitated to answer, for he was afraid to reveal who the doctor was, kn owing that the Emperor was in dispute with him, but at last he could not avoid t elling him how the cure came about. "I am absolutely astonished," said the Emperor, "and I must confess that he real ly is a remarkable man." Nevertheless he did not abate the mad tirades which he furiously issued against the Only begotten Son right up to the time when at last he was committed to the barbaric rite of cremation, a funeral rite beneath the dignity of even a slave o r a beggar. But the divine Aphraates throughout all those stormy times gave cons tant proof of his virtue, and when peace was restored carried on exactly as he h ad done before. He did many other miracles besides, of which I will mention one or two. There was a certain noblewoman, yoked in matrimony to a totally unreasonable hus band, who came to that blessed man, weeping over her distressing situation. For she told him that her husband was completely engrossed in keeping company with a concubine because of magic spells which had been uttered, and that he held in c ontempt his legally wedded wife. She said all this standing outside the porch. T his was his usual custom in dealing with women, none of whom were ever admitted inside. He took pity on the weeping woman, and aborted the effect of the incanta tion by his prayers, for he blessed with godly prayer a small portion of oil tha t she had brought with her, and told her to anoint her husband with it. After th e woman had done this she drew her husband's love back to her, and he chose to s leep legally rather than illegally. The story is also told about him during a time when locusts suddenly invaded the region and consumed everything as if by fire, standing crops, trees, meadows an d groves. One of the faithful approached him who possessed a farm which provided food for himself and his wife and children and the rest of the household, and w hich was the subject of an imperial tax. Again, he showed compassion in a manner similar to that of the Lord; he asked for a congius of water [about six pints] to be brought to him. His petitioner brought the water and Aphraates then laid h is hand on it, and prayed that God might imbue it with his divine power. After t he prayer he instructed the man to sprinkle it around the boundaries of the esta te. He did so, and it was as if a defensive palisade had been placed around the boundaries of his fields, sacrosanct and inviolable, for the crawling mass of lo custs, flying about everywhere like an army, drew back, fearful of the blessing which had been poured out on the fields, restrained as if by a physical barrier, preventing them from going any further. What need to say anything further about the deeds of this blessed soul? I have s aid quite sufficient to demonstrate the splendour of the grace that was in him. I saw him myself and received a blessing from his holy right hand, for my mother had taken me there with her while I was still a youth at the time when he was n ear to death. He opened his door and showed his favour to her by giving her a bl essing and a short homily, then he took me inside and bestowed on me the grace o f his prayers. I still enjoy that blessing, believing as I do that he lives with the choirs of Angels, closer to the Love of God than ever before. Before, his f aithfulness was kept within bounds by his mortal flesh, in order to avoid the si n of arrogance. Now, having laid aside the fight against all turbulence of spiri t, like an athlete enjoying the fruits of victory, his faithfulness and freedom

of conversation may be used on behalf of all who suffer. I pray therefore that I may continue to be aided by his prayers. Chapter IX PETER We understand he was a Gaul from Western Europe. But we know also that they orig inated from those in Asia around the Euxine Sea. From this stock blessed Peter c ame, indeed three times and four times blessed. For they say that he was brought up by his parents until he was seven, when he then dedicated his whole life to the struggle in the search for wisdom. He is said to have died at the age of nin ety-nine. Who can adequately praise this man who battled victoriously for ninety-two years , night and day? What tongue is sufficient to describe his glorious and virtuous deeds, in childhood, youth, middle age and extreme old age? Who can tell the ex tent of his sufferings? Who can count the struggles he endured over such a long time? What power of speech can do justice to the seeds he sowed and the sheaves he reaped? Who is endowed with such a brilliant mind as to be able to comprehend all the benefits and dividends accruing from such an outstanding investment? I know that the effect of his deeds is as vast as the ocean, and I fear to underta ke this account of his history, lest my words fail me. So I shall walk as one on the seashore in front of the sea, describing and marvelling at what is done on the continent, but leaving the depths to him who searches the deep and hidden th ings. (Daniel 2.22 & 1 Corinthians 2.10) He lived first in Galatia, but left there in order to see Palestine, where he vi ewed the places of the saving Passion, and worshipped there the God he served, n ot as though God might be circumscribed by place (for he knew that the nature of God has no limits), but simply to feast his eyes on the sights which he had lon g desired to see. It was not just the mental faculty with which he gazed; quite apart from sight, he enjoyed nourishment for his spirit by faith. It is natural for those courting a lover to take pleasure not only in her face but also to thi nk with great joy about her house, her clothes, her shoes. It is with love for t he bridegroom such as this that the bride sings in the Song of Songs: 'Like an a pple tree among the trees of the woods, so is my beloved among the sons of men. With great desire I sat under his shade, and his fruit was sweet in my mouth' (S ong of Songs 2.3). This divine man was not doing anything strange or unusual in seeking this same kind of love for the bridegroom, for he was using the same wor ds as the bride: 'I am wounded by love' (Songs of Songs 2.5). Since he longed to gaze, as it were, under the shadow of the bridegroom, he went off to those plac es whence flow the waters of salvation for humankind. Having enjoyed what he had longed for, he went to Antioch, where having seen the devout religion of the city he preferred it even though it was not his native l and. Rather than being a citizen of his own country among his own family, he pre ferred those who thought like him and who were of the company of the faithful an d bore the same yoke of devotion and religion. Although he decided to stay there he did not pitch a tent, or construct a shelter, or build a small house. He spe nt all his time there in an uncomfortable tomb. A platform here was set before h im to which was attached a ladder inviting those who would to climb up it. He re mained enclosed there for a long time, drinking tepid water and eating nothing b ut bread, and that not every day. He did not touch it one day but took it the ne xt. A certain madman came to him raging furiously, in the grip of a most malignant d emon, whom he cured by prayer, freeing him from the demon's anger. Unwilling to leave, he begged to become Peter's servant, in exchange for his cure, and Peter let him stay and live with him. I knew Daniel (for that was his name) and rememb er the miracle, and I saw how he paid for his cure, and I listened to what he sa id about me, which was that I too would become part of this wonderful ministry. But that divine man would not agree to that, mindful of the love which my parent s had for me. But he regularly fed me on my knees with grapes and bread. For my mother bade me enjoy this blessing since she too had experienced his spiritual g

race. This is how she came to know about him. She had developed a disease in one of he r eyes, resistant to all medical knowledge. There was nothing in the writings of old time or of those who came later which had not been used against the disease . She had tried everything to no effect, when a friend of the family came and to ld her about the divine man and the miracle he had done. "When my wife had the same illness as this," he said, "he cured her with prayer and the sign of the cross." She went to the divine man immediately after hearing this, wearing her usual ear rings and bracelets and necklets and a few more golden ornaments about her perso n, not to mention a multi-coloured dress of fine silk. She had not yet set out o n a search for perfection, though she was well on in years, a mature woman behav ing like an adolescent. When this chief of men had taken all that in, overflowin g with love he brought healing to her primary problem in these words (I repeat t hem exactly, I shall not change one word of what this holy man said): "Tell me, my daughter, suppose there was a painter well skilled in his art, who painted a picture according to the laws of his art and put it on view for anyone to see, and then someone came along with very rudimentary knowledge and rashly decided to paint over it without asking anyone, holding of no account a picture painted with skill, and added extra lines to the eyelashes and eyebrows, and mad e the skin look whiter, and put red colouring on the cheeks, wouldn't you expect the original painter to be rightfully furious because his artistry had been tre ated with insults and contempt, and altered unskilfully by someone who had no ri ght to do so? "Therefore you should believe that the universal workman, the creator and decora tor of our own nature, has a right to be angry, when you accuse of poor quality that nature and wisdom which is beyond the power of human description. You would not have added red and white and black colouring unless you have thought the or iginal was lacking in some way. By thinking to improve the body by these means y ou are accusing the creator of reckless negligence. You need to understand that he has the power of reacting to your own will in just proportion. For as David s ays, 'The Lord does all things according to his will' (Psalms 115.3 & 135.6) He it is who takes thought for everything that will be of benefit for all; he is no t the author of anything leading to damnation. So then, don't deface the image o f God, don't try and add things which in his wisdom he did not give you, don't i magine that this false appearance is beautiful. All it does is suggest to anyone who looks at you that modesty has gone out the door." She was really a lovely woman in every way, and as she listened to this she was caught up in Peter's net (for he was in the habit of going fishing in the same w ay as he whose name he bore). She fell at his feet, and cried, and begged him to cure her eye. "But I am only a human being with the same nature as you," he said, "carrying a great burden of sin which deprives me of any influence with God." "I shan't leave you," she said, weeping and begging, "till you have restored me to health." "God is our only healer," he said, "and he hears the prayers of those who believ e in him. He will hear now also, not as a favour to me but as he looks upon your faith. So if your faith is sincere and true and free from all doubt, and if you earnestly desire the doctors and medicines sent by God to be effective, take no w to yourself this medicine." So saying he laid his hand upon her eye, made the sign of the cross, and the dis ease was cured. When she got home she washed herself in the medicine he had given her, by divest ing herself of all her ornaments, and beginning to live according to the rules t he doctor ordered. No more multicoloured dresses, no more fancy earrings and nec klaces. And this even though she was still quite a young woman, in her twenty-th ird year, not even yet a mother, for it was seven years after this that I was bo rn, her first and only son. What great fruit she gained from the great Peter's t eaching! It was a double cure. She was seeking medicine for the body, but he pre pared for her a wholesome condition for the soul. Such were the sort of things h

e said, and such was the potency of his prayer. On another occasion she took him a certain steward, grievously vexed with a demo n, in the hope that he would be able to help. The divine man prayed, and then ch arged the demon to tell him how it was that it had power over this creature of G od. It stood there like a murderer or burglar or highway robber standing before the judge, ordered to own up to what he had done, and it felt so pressurised tha t quite unusually it was compelled to tell the truth. "The master of this steward fell ill in Heliopolis," it said, "and his wife who was sitting with him in his illness, told her servant maids about the life of th e monks who were following the life of wisdom (philosobantur) at Antioch, and wh at power they had against the demons. Now these servant maids had been made by m e into insane demoniacs, but this steward, dressed up in a goatskin as a monk, w as brought in to exorcise them in a monastic manner. I was standing nearby all t his time, and, unable to put up with what they were saying about the monks, I re solved to test the power they were boasting about. So I left the servant maids a nd entered into this steward, to see whether I could be driven out by monks. And now I have learned the truth, I need no further test. For at your command I now depart." And as it said this it fled, and the steward was liberated. My maternal grandmother took one of her farm workers to this monk who was able t o drive out evil, asking for his help. "Where do you come from," he asked, "and who has given you power over this creat ure of God? " There was no reply. Peter fell on his knees and prayed to God that he might show the power of the servants of God by bringing down a curse on this demon. He sto od upright, but there was still no reply. And this went on until the ninth hour. He poured out more prayer to God even more earnestly, until at last he arose an d spoke to the demon. "It is not Peter who commands you, but Peter's God." he said. "Answer! Whose pow er is it that drives you?" Notwithstanding the shamelessness of this pernicious demon, it was overawed by t he gentle authority of this holy man. "I come from Mount Amanus," it cried in a loud voice, "and when I saw this worke r drawing water from the well and drinking it I resolved to make him my dwelling place." "Depart!" said the man of God. "It is he who was crucified for the sake of the w hole world who gives you this command." It heard, and fled. Freed from its fury, the worker was restored to my grandmoth er. I could tell you any amount of similar stories about this blessed soul, but I sh all omit most of them for fear of the scorn it might provoke among ignorant peop le so wrapped. up in themselves that they simply would not believe in this man's miracles. But I shall just relate one or two more before passing on to another athlete of the Lord. There was a certain dissolute man, a former army commander, who numbered among h is household a very attractive, unmarried girl. This girl left her mother and fa mily and joined a community of women living an ascetic life. For women also ente r into battle like men, striving to become perfect in virtue. When the commander learned of her flight, he had the girl's mother imprisoned and whipped, vowing never to let her go free until she had revealed where the house of religious wom en was. In a furious frenzy he seized the girl and brought her back to his house , intending, wretched man, to have his will with her. But just as Sarah, Abraham 's wife, kept her modesty untarnished in the face of the many great temptations of Pharaoh, (Genesis 12.17), just as the Sodomites were struck with blindness wh en they tried to indecently assault the angels who were guests in Lot's house (G enesis 19.11), so also was he who was making an attempt upon the girl's virtue s truck with blindness. When he went into her bedroom, the Lord took care of her. She slipped past him, for he was unable to see her, and she hastily escaped back to the house of religious women. This coarse man realised that he was unable to subdue her who had chosen God for a bridegroom, and was compelled to restrain h

imself, and make no further attempt on her whom he had captured, but who had esc aped. But after a short time she fell ill with the grievous disease of cancer, sufferi ng increasing pain from a swelling in her breast. When the pain got excessively severe she called on the great Peter, and she testified that when his holy voice fell upon her ears all her pain was taken away, and she was unable to feel any trace of illness. She was often able to get help from him when she visited him. From that time to this, her pains receded. But having given this testimony, and poured forth praise for her victory, she followed it by departing from this life . Again, he snatched my mother from the hands of death, when, at my grandmother's request, he came to her when she was mortally ill after giving birth to me. I ha ve been told that she was despaired of by the doctors, the family all weeping in expectation of the end, as she just lay there with her eyes closed, suffering w ith a violent fever, not recognising anybody at all. But Peter came to her, wort hy of being called an apostle, with an apostle's grace.

Chapter IX Peter (continued) Book IX s further down)

(Theodosius, Romanus, Zeno and Macedoniu

"Peace be with you, my daughter", he said. (This was his usual salutation.) I w as told that she then opened her eyes, looked at him fixedly, and returned his b lessing. The women around were all weeping, a mixture of joy and anxiety making them cry out aloud. The divine man urged them to join in prayer with him. For he said that Tabitha was restored to health in the same way, with the widows weepi ng as the great Peter offered to God their tears (Acts 9.39). They did as he had asked, and prayed as requested, and as the prayer came to an end so did her fev er. Her body was suddenly bathed in sweat, her temperature subsided and she bega n to look better. God even now in our times performs such miracles through his d evoted servants. The touch of his clothing also worked in the same way as that of the most divine Paul. For I can tell you, without any exaggeration, but knowing that I speak th e truth, that he divided his girdle in two (it was long and broad, woven of thic k linen); he kept half for his own loins, and the rest he wound round me. My mot her often laid it on me when I was ill, and on my father also, in order to drive away any illness. It was often used as a health giving medicine. Many of our fr iends also got to know about this girdle and made use of it as a cure for illnes s, and so Peter's grace worked in many places. There was one person who borrowed it and did not give it back, showing gross ingratitude to those who had been he lping him. And so we lost this great gift. Peter himself shone with glory and illuminated Antioch with his rays of brightne ss, until at length he was taken up from the battle, in expectation of receiving the crown laid up for those who overcome. I received his blessing while he was yet with us, and I pray that I may receive it even now, as I bring his tale to a n end. Chapter X THEODOSIUS Rosus is a town on the right hand side of Cilicia as you look at it from the Cil ician Sea. To the North and East of Rosus there is a high mountain, spread out o ver a wide area, forested, a home for wild beasts. The great and widely celebrat ed Theodosius found a grove in this mountain facing the sea, and built himself a little shelter where he embraced as a solitary the evangelical way of life. He came originally from Antioch, a distinguished member of a famous family, but he

left his home and relations and all his possessions, in order, as the gospel say s, to 'buy the pearl of great price' (Matthew 13.46). To anyone who has seen his disciples and companions, it would be superfluous to say anything about his abs tinence from food, his sleeping on the ground and his rough clothing, for they a ll mirror his way of living. He carried out these disciplines conscientiously, p roviding an example to his followers. He also wore an iron yoke on his neck and iron bracelets on his wrists as well as having his loins girded with iron. His h air was untidy and unwashed, and stretched down to his feet and even longer, so that he had to tie it up to his middle. By the assiduous practice of prayer and hymnody he subdued the passions of avari ce and anger and arrogance and other spiritual diseases. He piled labour upon la bour, not only doing the manual work of weaving baskets in osier wickerwork, but also converting some of the woodland into a little bit of cultivated ground, wh ere he sowed seed which produced sufficient food for himself. As time went on his fame spread abroad to such an extent that many people from m any different places gathered around him, wanting to share his dwelling place, a nd his labours, and indeed his whole enterprise. He accepted them all and traine d them in that way of life. Some could be seen manufacturing sails, some sheepsk in cloaks, others wickerwork baskets, others tilling the soil. Because it was ne ar the sea they built a small boat for transport, which they used to bring in a ny necessary materials, and carry out the products of those who lived there. The y were mindful of the words of the apostle, 'Working night and day lest we be a burden to any of you' (2 Thessalonians 3.8), and 'These hands have supplied what I need' (Acts 20.34). He worked himself and urged on his companions that spirit ual labour and bodily labour were two sides of the same coin. "Those who live in the world," he said, "work hard to support wives and children , and pay taxes and commissions, and offer to God their first fruits, and allevi ate the needs of beggars according to their ability; it would be absurd therefor e if we did not provide for our needs by our own labour, however cheap and spari ng our food and however inferior our clothing, but sat here with folded arms enj oying the fruits of someone else's labour." With these and similar words he encouraged their manual work and the regular per formance of the divine offices, the periods of time running seamlessly into each other. They took great care of guests, deputing men to provide for their needs who were gentle and kindly and experienced in taking thought for others. He hims elf oversaw and directed everything, to ensure that each person should do his du ty within the rules laid down. So famous and widely known became the fame of his doings, that sailors a thousan d miles away would call upon the God of Theodosius when they were in danger, and by calling upon him could lessen the power of the storm. Even the bold and crue l brigands who were laying waste a great part of the East were afraid of him. Is there anyone in our habitable world who has not heard of the things that were b eing done at that time by those who used to be called 'Solymi', but are now know n as Isauri'? They spared neither town nor village, they tortured their captives and consigned them to the flames; but they feared the wisdom for which Theodosi us was famed, and from him they demanded nothing but food while at the same time begging him to pray for them. They left his monastery unharmed, and this not on ce but even twice. But the leaders of the church were frightened that these barbarians sent from th e devil might take this great luminary prisoner because of their greed. For it c ould quite easily happen that a great deal of money might be demanded as his ran som from all those who valued things divine. So they persuaded him to go to Anti och. (The barbarians had already taken two church leaders prisoner, and only all owed them to go back to where they had come from after being paid fourteen thous and gold pieces for each one.) In Antioch he lived in a house which he found nea r the river, and continued to attract the attention of those who had a nose for people like him. I have got so carried away by my story that I have almost forgotten to tell you about a miracle which the divine man performed. Many will see it as having been something incredible, but the evidence of is still there to this very day, still

talked about as proof of the grace and confidence which this admirable man enjo yed in the sight of God. There was a steep rocky face overhanging the monastery that he had built, comple tely dry, without a trace of any moisture. He carved out a channel capable of ca rrying water from the top of the rock right down to the monastery. Full of confi dence towards God, and believing without possibility of denial that God looked f avourably on him, he ascended to the top of what is now an aqueduct with a faith that brooked not the slightest doubt. Here, before the brothers had got out of bed to say their usual prayers, he prayed to God, trusting in him who 'fulfils t he desires of those who fear him' (Psalms 145.19), and struck the rock with the staff he had with him. The rock was shattered, water gushed out like a river, fl owing down in the aqueduct to the monastery, supplying abundantly enough water f or all their needs, with what was left over flowing on down to the sea. It works to this day, proof of how Theodosius enjoyed the same grace as Moses (Exodus 17 .6). This alone should be sufficient to show the favour which this man had in th e eyes of God. He lived at Antioch for only a short time before passing over to the choirs of A ngels. His holy body was carried through the midst of the city, decorated on its bier with what looked like golden crowns. All the leading men were present, and those of the administration who had placed great trust in his faith. There was great discussion and contention about who should carry the coffin, in the hope o f gathering great blessings and benefits from it. The funeral procession carried him to the shrine of the holy martyrs, since he had been a companion of Julianu s in his victory, and renowned for his athletic piety. He rests in the same plac e as the divine and blessed Aphraates. The admirable Helladius took over the leadership of the monastery. He had been t here continuously for sixty years. He then was elected to be the spiritual leade r of Cilicia, but abated nothing of his former way of life. He simply added the daily responsibilities of the pontificate to the labours he was already undergo ing. After him the blessed Romulus, who had sat at Helladius' feet, was made leader o f this great flock. The monastery is there to this present day, pursuing its regular life. It is nea r the village called in Syriac Maratus. And so I bring this story to an end, praying that Theodosius may give me a bless ing. Chapter XI ROMANUS The great Theodosius began in Antioch and lived his ascetic life in the mountain s near Rosus, before returning to Antioch where his life ended. The divine Roman us, was born in Rosus where he had his early education, but he first began to st rive after virtue at Antioch, pitching his tent outside the city boundaries on t he side of the mountain, and in this little dwelling place he lived out his whol e life. Right up to extreme old age he made no use of either fire or lantern. Hi s food was bread and salt, his drink a flowing spring. His hair was like that of Theodosius, as were the items of iron which he wore. He displayed great simplicity of life, and gave evidence of the splendour of div ine grace in his gentleness and self-control. For 'to whom shall I look,' he sai d, 'if not to those who are meek and quiet and tremble at my words?' (Isaiah 66. 2) He also said to his disciples, 'Learn of me, for I am meek and humble of hear t and you will find rest unto your souls' (Matthew 11.29) And again, 'Blessed ar e the meek for they shall inherit the earth' (Matthew 5.5). He was as well favou red a man as Moses the Lawgiver, for 'Moses', he said, 'was the most meek of all men that are upon the earth' (Numbers 12.3). And the most holy Spirit testifies of the prophet David: 'Remember David, O Lord, and all his meekness' (Psalms 13 2.1). And concerning the patriarch Jacob we learn that 'he had not been accustom ed to living in a house' (Genesis 25.27). All these virtues he collected like a bee from the meadows of divine Scripture, and converted them into the honey of t

rue wisdom. His virtues overflowed most happily into other people, for in his gentle, sweet voice he urged all who came to him to love the brethren in harmony and peace. By his looks alone he persuaded many to become lovers of things divine. Who could not greatly admire this remarkable man in view of his bodily labours, his flowin g hair, the iron weights he carried about his person, his hair shirt, and his cu stom of eating only sufficient to prevent him dying of hunger? Grace poured into him in proportion to the greatness and number of his labours, persuading everyone to admire and honour him. He cured many deep-rooted diseases , and brought it to pass that many sterile women bore children. He gave ample ev idence of being filled with the power of the divine spirit, but he described him self as a needy beggar. However many people kept on coming to him, he helped the m all by speech and example all the days of his life. When at length he departed and was translated into the angelic choirs, he left b ehind him a memory that did not go down into the grave with him, but which grows and flowers and produces seeds and which cannot be uprooted, but which remains forever for the assistance of all who will. Praying that I too may obtain his bl essing, I now move on to narrate the doings of some of the other athletes, to th e best of my ability. Chapter XII ZENO Not many people know about the admirable Zeno, but those who do know him cannot praise his worthiness enough. He gave up great riches in his native land of Pont us, in order to drink at the fountains of Basil the Great, as he is called, who lived nearby, pouring out the waters of life to the whole Cappadocian region, an d bringing forth admirable fruit thereby. Zeno had been a member of the Emperor Valens' swift courier service, from which he resigned after Valens was taken fro m our midst. From living at court he went to live as a solitary in a tomb (of which there wer e many in the mountains) not far from Antioch. There he began to purify his soul , continually rebuking it by the practice of contemplation, seeking the vision o f God, finding in his heart a way of ascending to God (Psalms 84.5), longing to possess the wings of a dove that he might fly off and be at rest (Psalms 55.6). This was the reason that he had no bed, no lantern, no hearth, no storage jar, n o oil flask, no chest, no books or anything else; he was clothed in old rags, hi s shoes had no buckles, and their leather soles were torn and worn to shreds. On e of his family brought him what food he needed, which consisted of one loaf whi ch he made to last two days. He carried water himself from some distance away. S omeone who realised what a burden it was to carry this water offered to lighten his load. He refused immediately, maintaining that he could not bring himself to drink water brought to him by some else. Unable to make Zeno change his mind he nevertheless gave him some pots of water, which he left in the doorway. But Zen o poured the water out and let it run away, before going back to the spring agai n, thus confirming what he had said. Later on, I climbed up the mountain myself in order to see him, and I came acros s him carrying the water pots in his hands. I asked where was the cell of that a dmirable man, Zeno, but he replied that he knew no monk of that name. But from t he graciousness of his speech I realised who he was, and I followed him. When I got inside his dwelling I saw a bed of straw, and a rush mat laid over the stone s, providing a minimum amount of comfort for anyone seated on it. I had a long c onversation with him on the subject of true wisdom, and when it was time for me to return home I asked him to speed me on my way with a blessing, but he would n ot agree to that, saying that it would be fairer for each of us to pray for each other. He said that he was just a private citizen, whereas I belonged to the ar my - for I was at that time a Reader for the people of God. I replied that I was very young and immature (I had only just begun to produce a little down on my c heeks), and that I would not feel able to come back again if I were obliged to s ay the prayers. In the end in response to my many requests, he did offer interce

ssion to God, but made many excuses for doing so, saying that he was only doing it for love's sake and out of a sense of obedience. But I had, however, heard hi m praying as I was approaching earlier. Who could adequately pay tribute to the deep love of wisdom, the modesty and sel f-control, of this old man? (For he had then been following a monastic disciplin e for forty years.) Who could find sufficient words of praise to acknowledge the magnitude of his achievements? He possessed a great wealth of virtue, while liv ing in extreme material poverty, but he worshipped on Sundays in the church of G od with God's people, listening to sermons and sharing in the mystical banquet, but returning afterwards to his dwelling which had no lock or key, no one to gu ard it. Possessing nothing but one rush mat he was immune from evildoers, who ne vertheless held him to be sacrosanct anyway. He would borrow one book from his f amily, and having read it would return it in exchange for another. But although he had no locks or bars he was protected by grace from above, as we clearly lear ned from our own experience. For the Isauri treacherously captured the citadel b y night, and in the morning advanced up the mountain, cruelly threatening the ma ny men and women living the monastic life. But the divine man, sensing this disa ster, prayed to God and they were all struck blind, so that having found the way in they could not see where to go next. And he bore witness to having clearly s een three youths driving out the whole crowd of them. God had openly poured fort h his grace. I think I have said sufficient to show what sort of a life this divine man led a nd how filled he was with divine grace. But I must add just one more thing. He w as worried and distressed that he still possessed property and had not sold it a nd distributed it according to the evangelical precept. The reason for this was that his brothers were still very young. The money and other goods they all owne d in common, but he was unwilling to return home in order to divide it up and he feared to sell his share of the estate to anyone, lest the buyers greedily chea t his brothers and humiliate them. He put off doing anything about it for a long time as he turned it over in his mind, but when eventually he sold everything t o someone he knew he was able to give away the greater part of it. But then he f ell ill, which compelled him to take counsel about the rest of it. So he approac hed the leader of the church in Antioch, the great Alexander who was a splendid example of true religion and virtue, and an exact and accurate image of a true l over of wisdom. "I would like you, " he said, "O divine leader, to act as steward of these money s, sharing them out in virtue of your divine office according to your best judgm ent. I have distributed most of it myself as seemed best to me. I would like you to distribute the rest in a similar manner. Since I am like to be called out of this life, I appoint you as the one to share it all out, for you are the pontif f, and you exercise your pontificate justly in accordance with the laws." He handed over his money as if it had been required of him by God. He lived for forty years after this, and then like an Olympic victor he departed from his enc losed place, covered in glory not only by men but also by Angels. I beg that he will intercede for me before God, and continue my tale in another direction. Chapter XIII MACEDONIUS Macedonius was called krithophalos, that is, 'barley-eater', and he was known a s this throughout Phoenicia and Syria and Cilicia. The name was given him becaus e of the food that he ate. People near and far knew about him, some because they had seen his miracles, others because they had heard their fame being celebrate d. Not everyone knew everything about him, some knew this, some knew that, but w hat they knew they deservedly wondered at. I know more about this divine outstan ding man than others (for I had heard many things which led me to go to him and be with him for quite some time), and I shall tell you a few things as far as I am able. I am putting him in this position in my narrative, after telling you of many other people, not because he was inferior in virtue to the others (for he

was indeed the equal of the greatest and best), but because he lived a long life which did not come to an end until long after the others whose tale I have told . He made the top of a mountain his palace and arena, but never always in the same spot. He did not stay long in one place before going on to another. This was no t because of any dislike for any particular place, but because he was forever fl eeing from the crowds of people who followed him and gathered about him. Forty-f ive years he lived like this, with no tent, not even a hut, content with a deep cleft in the rock, for which reason he was also known as Gubba. This name when t ranslated from the Syrian into Greek means lakkos, that is, 'hollow'. When he go t to be a bit older, he gave in to people's urging and built a hut for himself. Later, in response to his followers' entreaties, he made use of little cottages, which did not belong to him, but to others. Twenty-five years he lived in hut a nd cottage, making a total of seventy years during which he lived his life of co nstant struggle. He ate no bread, but only clear barley, and drank only the water it was steeped in. For a long time it was my mother who supplied him with this food. She was a follower of his. Once when she was suffering an illness, he heard that she was r efusing to eat the sort of food which would be best for her in her illness (for she too had embraced a monastic discipline), and he advised that she should do w hat her doctors ordered, and consider that food not to be a luxury but a medicin e, taken because it was necessary. "You know perfectly well," he said, "that I have eaten only barley for forty yea rs, but when I was ill the other day I told the person living with me to bake so me bread and bring it to me. For it occurred to me that if I were to die, I woul d have to explain to the just judge of the universe why I had fled from the batt lefield and spoiled my work of serving him. For if a little bit of food could sa ve me from death and let me live a little longer to work and discipline myself, gathering the rewards that go with it, I decided that it was better to avoid dyi ng from hunger than stick to my rigid rule. With some apprehension, therefore, I 'kicked against the pricks' of my thoughts (Acts 26.14), and ordered bread to b e brought, and when brought I ate it. And now I ask you to show me barley no lon ger, but bread." It was from what he said here that we learned beyond any possibility of someone else's lies that he had eaten only barley for the last forty years. And that in itself should be sufficient to show how strenuously and laboriously he worked in his monastic discipline. There are other things we can tell you as proof of his integrity and simplicity of life. After the great Flavian was consecrated to the pastoral care of the gre at flock of God he soon heard about Macedonius, that man of great virtue, and or dered him to be carried off from his mountaintop as if some accusation had been laid against him. In the course of offering the mystical sacrifice he caused Mac edonius to be brought up to the altar and ordained him to the priesthood. He was entirely ignorant of what was actually happening, and when someone enlightened him after the end of the service he railed against them all at first with many h ard words and reproaches. Then he took his staff (for he walked about leaning on a staff because of his great age), and complained to the pontiff and those who were with him. He feared that ordination would mean he had to leave his mountain top and change his preferred manner of life. But none of the bishop's entourage could calm his anger. Chapter XIII, Macedonius (continued) Book IX (Maesymas further down this page) When Sunday came round again at the end of the week, the great Flavianus sent me ssengers inviting him to share the celebration with him. "Haven't you done enough," he said "that you want to ordain me as presbyter all over again?" When they told him that he could not be ordained twice, he still would not give

way, and refused to attend right up to the moment when those around him told him that it was time. I am aware that many may find this story not particularly edifying, but I have i ncluded it because I do think it worthy of being recorded insofar as it shows hi s simplicity of mind and purity of heart. To such as these the Lord promised the kingdom of heaven: 'Amen, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven.' (Matthew 18.3). S o you must realise that in trying to sum up in a general way his manner and char acter, I am portraying him as he really was. There was a certain military commander who in pursuit of his pastime of hunting came up into the mountain with his dogs and soldiers and all the paraphernalia o f the hunt. He caught sight of Macedonius in the distance and his followers told him who it was. He immediately jumped off his horse and went up to speak to him "Is there anything lacking in what I do?" he asked. Macedonius replied with anot her question. "What have you come up here for?" "To hunt," he said. "I am a hunter too," he said. "I hunt for my God. I hope to capture him. I long to contemplate him, and I shall never cease from this beautiful quest." The commander acknowleged that what he had heard deserved respect, and so depart ed. There was a certain city which a demon inspired to run riot and deface the statu es of the Emperor. As a result of this, some of the top military commanders came to the city with orders to put the citizens to the sword. Macedonius came down from the mountain and accosted the commanders in the market place. When they lea rned who he was they jumped off their horses, and embraced his hands and knees a nd wished him well. "Tell your Emperor," he said, " that I am human with the same nature as those wh o have offered him injury, and although it is part of that nature to show anger, the anger he has used in this case is quite immoderate. To revenge what has bee n done to the images of himself, he proposes to kill the images of God. Does the destruction of bronze statues merit the death of human bodies? It is a simple a nd quick matter to refashion bronze statues, but can he, for all that he is the Emperor, bring back to life any bodies he has killed?" He said all this in the Syrian tongue, but when they had heard an interpreter tr anslating it into Greek they trembled, and signified their intention of passing the message on to the Emperor. Now I am sure that you must all agree that these words came from the grace of th e divine Spirit. How else could he have spoken in the way he did, a man of no le arning, who had spent his life on the top of a mountain, completely simple in sp irit, who had in no way been trained in divine eloquence? Now that I have made c lear his spiritual wisdom, and how faithfully he adhered to the principles of ju stice (for he trusted in justice with the strength of a lion), I shall pass on t o his miracles. The wife of a certain wealthy nobleman was afflicted with a grievous eating diso rder. Some said that this disease was the work of a vexatious demon, others that it was simply physical weakness, but whether this or that, the fact is that she was eating thirty chickens a day. She was simply unable to restrain her appetit e, but kept on asking for more. Her whole life was directed towards this end, un til her family, in pity for her, begged the help of that divine man. He came and prayed. With his right hand he made the saving sign over some water, which he t hen commanded her to drink. Her illness was cured, her immoderate appetite was r estrained, and from then on she ate only a small portion of chicken per day. Suc h was the disease, such the cure. When a certain girl took to her bed vexed by an evil demon her father hastened t o the divine man, praying and crying and begging that he cure his daughter. He p rayed and ordered the demon to leave the girl, but it replied that it was not th ere of its own will but at the command of a powerful magician. It also told him the name of the one who was behind it and said that his desire to possess the gi rl was his motivation. Hearing this did nothing to lessen the father's anger for

he thought that his daughter could not be cured. So he went to the highest judg e of all, the one who presided over the whole panel of judges, made his accusati on and described the whole affair. The accused man denied everything when brought to trial and declared that the ac cusation was slanderous. But he could not bring forward anybody to testify on hi s behalf except the very demon that was bound by the incantation, so he begged t he judge to have recourse to that divine man and hear his testimony. The judge s aid that it would not be right and proper for him to hear the case in a monaster y, so the girl's father said he would bring Macedonius down to the court, hasten ed up to him, managed to persuade him, and brought him back. The judge moved out of the judgment seat; he became a spectator and not a judge . It was Macedonius who took on the function of being a judge, exercising his ow n inner authority. He ordered the demon to lay aside its usual mendacity and tel l the whole truth about the tragedy. Vanquished by the greatest possible superio r power, the demon named the man who had bound it with magic spells, and also th e maid who had administered a potion to the girl. It went on to admit to other t hings it had done at the commands of others, burning a house, killing a beast of burden, putting a curse on somebody. The man of God then ordered it to be silen t and depart at once from the girl and from the city. In obedience to the law of God the demon did what it was told and fled far off. So the divine man freed the girl from her demonic possession, exonerated the poo r wretch who had been accused, and enabled the judge to abandon the death senten ce which he had been considering. These events should be enough to demonstrate t he abundance of divine power which had been given to him, but I still have yet m ore to tell. There was a woman called Assyria from a noble family, very wealthy, who became s o mentally disturbed that she no longer recognised her own family and refused to take either food or drink. In the course of time she began to rave; some said s he was possessed by a demon, the doctors said it was mental illness. After every possible remedy had been tried and had not brought her any relief, her husband, whose name was Abrodianus, a magistrate held in high honour, went to that divin e fountainhead Macedonius, told him of his wife's illness, and begged him to eff ect a cure. The divine man agreed, came to the house and with great zeal offered urgent prayer to God. After praying he asked for some water, made the sacred si gn over it, and asked her to drink it. The doctors protested that to drink cold water would only make the illness worse, but he drove the whole lot of them out, and offered the water to the woman. As soon as she had drunk it she came to her self, completely free from all illness. She recognised the divine man, asked him to give her his right hand and moved it to her mouth to shower it with kisses. From that time on she was completely sane. The kind of life that Macedonius led began to spread through the mountains. One very dark night when snow was falling, a shepherd came looking for his wandering sheep near the place where the man of God was. He relates that he saw him surro unded in flames with two men in white garments stoking the fire. He quickly real ised that the man of God was enjoying assistance from God. He was no less gifted in respect of prophecy. A leading citizen came to him once , a man well known for his devotion and true religion (who has not heard of the virtues of Lupicianus?), and said that he was very worried about certain goods w hich were being transported to him by sea from the capital city. It was now fift y days since they left port and he had heard nothing from them. "One ship," said Macedonius immediately, "has perished, but the other one will a rrive tomorrow at the port of Seleucuia." He listened to what Macedonius had to say, and experience later proved the truth of what he had heard. Whatever else I might miss out, I must tell you about things to do with me. My m other had lived with my father for thirteen years without being blessed with any children, for she was sterile, naturally unfruitful. She did not grieve excessi vely about this, for she was well instructed in the ways of God and believed tha t it must be for her benefit. Nevertheless, while bearing patiently her sorrow o f not having children, wherever she went she asked the servants of God to pray t

hat children be given her from God. Some promised to do so, but urged her to be content with the will of God. Macedonius said quite plainly that he would pray t o the creator of the universe, and promised that his prayer would be heard. But when three years went by and the promise had not been fulfilled, my father went to see him and reminded him of his promise. He was asked to send his wife to see him. When she came, the divine man told her that he would pray and that she wou ld have the gift of a son, and that he must be dedicated to the giver of the gif t. She was living her life seeking salvation for her soul and deliverance from t he pains of eternal death. "God will give you a son over and above that," said Macedonius, "for he is gener ous and bountiful and rewards twofold those who pray to him in sincerity and tru th." My mother went home blessed by that promise. And in the fourth year she conceive d and her womb was quickened, and she hastened to the man of God and blessed him profusely. But in the fifth month of her pregnancy she found herself in danger of having a miscarriage. She was too ill to go anywhere herself, so she sent a message to th is new Elijah (cf. 2 Kings 4.16) to remind him of how she wished to have childre n and of what he had promised. He saw the messenger coming and knew why, for the Lord had revealed to him in a dream both the illness and the remedy. So he came , leaning on his staff, and gave his usual blessing of peace when he entered the house. "Be of good cheer and fear not," he said then. "The giver of the gift will not d eprive you of the gift, so long as you do not fail to keep faith with what has b een agreed between you. For you have promised to give back to him the gift he wi ll give you by consecrating him to the sacred ministry." "That is what I choose and promise," said my mother, "though my thoughts are mor e on seeking the survival of this half-formed foetus than on the education of a son apart from God." The divine man took water and blessed it. "Drink this water," he said, " and be assured of the help of God." She drank it as he had asked, and the danger of miscarriage passed. Such were th e miracles of our own Elijah. I often benefited from his blessing and teaching. "My son," he would say, "your birth was brought about through much hard work. I spent many nights beseeching God that your parents would ensure that you would l ive up to the name given you when you were born. See that you live a diligent li fe as befitting one who had been dedicated by promises made before you were born . What is dedicated to God and is separate from the world is universally venerat ed, so it follows that you must not give room to thoughts of evil, but think and do only such things as are pleasing to God, the fount of all virtue." The divine man often gave me lessons, and I learned to remember what he told me and that I was a gift from God. I won't go into details about everything he taug ht me, but I pray that through his prayers the assistance of God may be always w ith me, and that I may continue to follow his precepts for what remains of my li fe. I trust that what I have said is sufficient to show what his life was like a nd how his labours drew down the grace of God upon him. His departure from this world was marked by honours worthy of his laborious life , for not only all the citizens and people from far and wide were there, but a n umber of important government officials, to whom was entrusted the task of carry ing his sacred coffin on their shoulders. They carried it to the shrine of the s acred martyrs, renowned for their victories, where his sacred body, blest by God , was laid to rest along with the divine Aphraate and Theodosius. His glory is s till with us and cannot be extinguished. But now I put an end to this tale, know ing what a beautiful inspiration can be drawn from his story. Chapter XIV MAESYMAS We know of many other shining lights of devotion and true religion in the city o

f Antioch, the great Severus, Peter the Egyptian, Eutyches, Cyril, Moses and Mal chus, and many others who walked this same path. But if I tried to describe the deeds of them all, all the time there is would not be sufficient. Besides, to re ad about an excessive number of them would be far too much for many people. But great praise is due to those who have been written about, as also indeed to thos e whose life we can only guess at. They are to be imitated, they bring great ben efits. I, however, shall wander through the meadows of Cyrus [near Antioch], and describe the beauties of the fragrant and beautiful flowers to be found there, to the best of my ability. In former times there was one Maesymas who displayed every kind of virtue. He wa s a country dweller whose first language was Syrian. When the quality of his lif e became known he was entrusted with the pastoral care of the village. He offere d the sacrifice, and cared for the flock of God, and said and did all that the l aw of God required. They say he never had a new tunic or mantle, but mended tear s in them with patches of old rags, and this was his way right up to the end of his life. He happily cared for the poor, and travellers; his doors were open to all who came. He is said to have had two dolia [large storage jars], one filled with grain, the other with oil. From these he supplied all the wants of the need y, for the blessing given to the widow of Sarepta (1 Kings 17, 9&14) was granted also to those two dolia. The Lord hears the prayers of all who call upon him, and the sharing out of his water supply brought forth a harvest from the seeds of his hospitality, insofar as a plentiful supply was granted in response to the zeal of his spirit. From the God of all he received the grace of doing miracles. I will mention one or two of them, but pass over the rest in order to hasten on to other people. There was a faithful woman of noble family whose son of tender years became ill. She had several doctors come to see him, but when they had tried every remedy t hey could with no result they despaired, and declared that he was near to death. But the woman had hope of better things, and in imitation of the Shunamite woma n (2 Kings 4.24) she ordered that a litter should be harnessed to her mules. She and the boy both arrived at the house of that divine man, showing her grief in weeping, and begging for his help. He took the boy and laid him at the foot of t he altar and prostrated himself in prayer for healing both of body and soul. His prayer was accepted, and the boy was restored to his mother whole. I was told t his story by her who witnessed the miracle and obtained healing for her son. The ruler of the village was one Latoius, who was one of the chief senators of A ntioch. He was totally godless, and demanded excessive dues from the local farme rs. The divine man counselled clemency, and preached to him of the virtue of mer cy, but he was obdurate, unwilling to suffer the loss of anything which could ha ve been got for him. When it was time for him to go and collect his taxes, his c hariot was got ready, he got into it and ordered the driver to set the horses go ing. They pulled with all their force, endeavouring vigorously to make the vehic le move, until it was noticed that the wheels of the chariot were tied up with i ron chains and pieces of lead. When even a team of farm workers were unable to m ove the vehicle, one of Latoius' company realised why this was happening, and to ld him that the old priest had put a curse on him, and that he would have to pla cate him and get him to change his mind. He jumped out of his chariot and came as a suppliant to him whom he had previous ly spurned. He fell at his feet, embraced him, dirty old clothes and all, and be gged him to abate his anger. He listened to his plea, and offered his prayers to God. The chains on the wheels were loosened which before were firmly fixed, and the chariot was able to move as normal. Many other things like this could be told about this outstanding divine person. But the chief lesson to be learnt by those who would pronounce otherwise, is tha t there is no reason why living in towns or villages should be a spiritual disad vantage. For this man shows that anyone who like him takes charge of the worship of God in the midst of crowds of people is equally able to achieve the heights of virtue. Would that I also, aided by their prayers, might be lifted up to at l east some small share in their virtues.

Chapter XV ACEPSIMAS Acepsimas was a contemporary of Maesymas, and his fame was widely spread through out the East. For sixty years he was enclosed within his little dwelling, seeing and speaking to no one. He looked inwards where he might seek the vision of God , and this was all his delight, as the prophet said: 'Delight in the Lord and pr ay to him, and he will grant you all the petitions of your heart' (Psalms 37.4). He received the food brought to him through a sort of narrow gap in the bank ar ound his cell, which was not straight in front of the cell so that he would not be directly opposite anyone who might be trying to catch sight of him. It went a t an angle, and so constructed that it was in the shape of a curve. The food bro ught to him was lentils soaked in water, and once a week he would go out at nigh t and draw up from a nearby well as much water as he needed. A shepherd tending his sheep once saw him in the distance moving through the dar kness and thought he was a wolf, for he was bent over with all that he was carry ing. The shepherd picked up his sling, intending to throw a stone at him, but fo und that he was unable to move his hand in order to throw the stone, until the d ivine man had finished drawing his water and returned on the way home. He then r ealised his ignorance, and next morning he went to the little house where Acepsi mas was training himself in virtues, and in a loud voice described what had happ ened and begged for pardon. He was forgiven for his sin, not by hearing any voic e, but by the sight of Acepsimas' hand moving in a gesture of absolution. Another person, with an ill-mannered curiosity and a desire of discovering what Acepsimas was doing all the time, climbed up into a plane tree beside the passag eway, and immediately suffered the penalty of his audacity. For he became paraly sed in a kneeling position from the middle of his body down to his feet, which m ade his wickedness very obvious. But Acepsimas, having first cut down the plane tree, indicated that all would be well. He had the tree cut down so that no one else could do the same thing and suffer a similar fate, but the rescue of the kn eeling person followed the cutting down of the tree. Such was the strength of ch aracter and tolerance of this divine man. Through his struggles, however, he enj oyed much grace. Not long before he departed this life, he predicted that his end would come in a bout fifty days' time, and he allowed inside all who wanted to see him. The bish op came to see him and urged him to accept the yoke of the presbyterate. "I know, father," said the bishop, "how exalted is your way of life, as compared with my own poverty, but to me has been entrusted the pontificate, and it is by virtue of that that I lay hands on anyone to ordain them, not by any virtue of mine. So accept the gift of priesthood through the laying on my right hand and t he grace supplied by the most holy Spirit." "Seeing that I am about to depart this life in a few more days," replied Acepsim as, "I won't argue with your decision. But if I had been going to live much long er I would have fled from the grave and serious burden of priesthood, in fear of how I might be required to give an account of what had been entrusted to me. Ho wever, I've only got a few more days to go, so for the space of what time is lef t to me I gladly submit to your wishes." And at once with no further prompting he knelt down in expectation of the grace of the Spirit, which would be administered to him by the laying on of hands. He lived only a few days as a priest, and then exchanged a life of burdensome respo nsibility for a life freed from senility and care. There was a contention among the people about who should take possession of his body, everybody wanting to take it to their own villages. But the contention was silenced when someone revealed an oath concerning the holy man. "This holy man," he said, "made me swear an oath that he would be buried right h ere." So it is that even in death the true citizens of heaven manage to preserve their asceticism and simplicity. While they were alive it never occurred to them that anything would turn them into important characters, while in death they had no desire for human honour, for all their love was directed towards the bridegroom.

It is the same thing with women who have the virtue of modesty. They desire to be loved and praised only by their husbands; they have no time for the praises o f anyone else. And the husband for that reason declares how outstanding and beau tiful she is, even if she does not want this, and so she shares in his glory in overflowing abundance. When anyone seeking God petitions heaven for anything he receives much more besides; his petitions are answered in overflowing measure. T his is the rule he gives us in the Gospel: 'Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and his justice and all these things shall be added to you' (Luke 12.31). And again : 'He who leaves father, mother, brother and children for the sake of my gospel will receive a hundredfold in this life and in the world to come life everlastin g' (Matthew 19.29). Acepsimas followed these precepts in word and deed. And in word and deed he is present with us as our teacher. We rely on his prayer s to watch over us as we strive to attain the reward of our heavenly calling whi ch is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Book IX (continued) Chapter XVI MARO (Abraames, Eusebius, Salamanus, Maris and Jacobus further down this page) Maro is my next subject, for he also was an adornment to the divine choir of sai nts. Having embraced a life dedicated to God, he took possession of a mountainto p which used to be venerated by the pagans, and where there was a shrine to the demons. He consecrated it to God and went to live there, pitching a small tent i nside it, which, however, he rarely used. He not only exercised himself in the u sual labours, but thought up others as well, building up a great store of wisdom . His whole life of struggle measured out the grace which sprang from his labour s. God in his liberal generosity gave him the gift of healing, so that his fame spread everywhere and people came from all parts to find from experience that hi s reputation was genuine. For they saw fevers extinguished by the dew of his ble ssing, trembling fits stilled and demons put to flight and various diseases of a ll kinds cured by his one universal remedy. Doctors supply medicines suitable fo r each kind of illness, but the prayer of the saints is the common remedy for a ll diseases. He not only treated sicknesses of the body but also illnesses associated with th e soul; curing avarice in one case, anger in another, to one person advocating t he virtue of self-control, to another the exercising of justice, condemning inte mperance in this person, stirring up the laziness of that person. By the use of this husbandry he brought forth many shoots of wisdom, and cultivated for God th e garden which now flourishes in the region of Cyrus. This garden was originally the work of the great Jacobus, to whom may be applied the words of the prophet: 'He shall be multiplied as the cedars of Lebanon' (Psalms 92.12), and indeed al l the other individual people whom I shall mention, God willing. He kept on giving all his care to this divine agriculture of making both bodies and souls grow, until after a brief illness, in the course of which he suffered the weakness of nature with bravery of spirit, he departed this life. A fierce dispute broke out over his body among people round about. But among all the villages nearby, one with a greater population poured out en masse and drov e all the others off. They seized the much-desired treasure of his body and buil t a large shrine for it. They are aware of the benefit they draw from it, which they continue to enjoy to this day, honouring that outstanding victor with a pub licly celebrated feast. But we also enjoy his blessing, even at a distance. The memory of him is for us a sufficient monument. Chapter XVII ABRAAMES

It would not be right to pass over the admirable Abraames on the pretext that af ter his monastic life it was the pontifical see of which he became the ornament. Indeed he is all the more worthy of being commemorated by name for the simple r eason that he did not change his way of life even though he had been compelled t o change the circumstances in which his life was lived. For he carried over with him the burden of his monastic exercises, and lived all the rest of his life in maintaining his monastic labours in the midst of his pontifical responsibilitie s. He was one more fruitful product springing from the region of Cyrus. Here he was born and educated and began to put together a collection of monastic virtues . Those who lived with him say that he so subdued his body by fasting and keepin g vigil standing up that he could remain completely motionless for extremely lon g periods. By divine providence he was liberated from that kind of helplessness, so that by divine grace he could undergo more serious testing. He went to Lebanon, where he had heard there was a village covered in a cloud of godlessness. He changed his monastic appearance for the disguise of a merchant. He and his companions carried wicker baskets in which to put the nuts which the y proposed to buy (for this was the chief product of this village). He leased a house and agreed a certain price with the owners, after which they stayed there quietly for two or three days. Then little by little they began to sing the divi ne offices, but in a very quiet voice. But their psalmody was heard by someone who declaimed against it in a loud voice , and everyone came running to the spot, a crowd of men and women and children. They broke down the door, they climbed on the roof, and between them made such a pile of rubbish that Abraames and his companions were almost buried and suffoca ted. There was nothing they could do or say except pray to God. The older people of the village then prevailed upon the rest of them to cease from this madness. Through the open doors they pulled Abraames and his companions out of the rubbi sh and told them to get out of the village. But then the debt collectors turned up demanding payment of their rent. They tied some of them up, the others they abused and beat with rods. But that divine man took no account of the things that were being done to them, and in imitation of the Lord on the cross had compassion on them, urging them to use self-control and clemency in making their demands. They demanded sureties, and Abraames said he himself would be the surety and promised to provide a hundr ed pieces of gold within the next few days. And then the dignity of the man arou sed such admiration that those who had been most fierce against them began to as k pardon of these men who were so brave. They even asked that he would become th e ruler of the village, for at present they were simply farmers and householders with no one in charge. He went to the city, Emesa by name, and borrowed a hundred gold pieces from some people whom he knew, then returned to the village and fulfilled his promise. Wh en they saw how conscientious he was, they repeated their request even more vigo rously. He promised that he would agree if they in their turn would promise to b uild a church. They asked him to come with them immediately and took the blessed man to a suitable site. Someone else suggested another place, others somewhere different, but at last they agreed on the best situation. Foundations were laid, and it was not very long before they were able to put the roof on. Once it was finished he said they ought to have a priest. They replied that they would not h ave anyone else to be their priest except himself. They begged him to be their f ather and pastor. And so he submitted to be being given the grace of priesthood. He lived there for three years, instructing them beautifully in the things of G od, until he had ensured that one from among their number could take charge inst ead of him, after which he returned to his monastic dwelling. My story would become too long if I were to include everything about him, but I must make mention of the fact that he became bishop of Carrae, since in this he was quite outstanding. Carrae had been a city submerged in the most ungodly diss oluteness, given to drunken, demonic orgies. But it showed itself worthy of his husbandry, for it accepted his fiery teaching and was rescued from its former th orn bushes, and began to bring forth a fruitful harvest of the Spirit, offering

to God its sheaves of ripened grain. This harvesting was not accomplished withou t hard work on the part of the divine man. He undertook countless labours, and, imitating the art of those who prescribe medicine for the body, he used sweet pe rsuasiveness in some cases, but in others bitter medicines, and in some cases he used burning and cutting tactics in order to bring about good health. The brill iance of his life and discipline lent support to his teachings. People were enli ghtened by these things, and listened to what he said and freely accepted what h e did. During all the time that he was bishop he never ate bread, he never drank water, he had no use for a bed, and never lit a fire. They said forty psalms antiphona lly at night and double that number of prayers in between. For the rest of the n ight he sat, and allowed his eyelids to rest a little. Moses, who saw God, said that man should not live by bread alone (Deuteronomy 8.3), and the Lord in his t urn kept this in mind when he rejected the temptations of the devil (Matthew 4.4 ). There is no place in Scripture, however, which says that it is possible to do without water; even the great Elijah drank water from the stream, and when he v isited the widow at Sarepta he bade her bring water and bread (1 Kings 17.6-11). But this admirable man, during the whole time of his pontificate, ate no bread or cooked vegetables, and drank no water which those learned in such matters rec kon to be the most important of the elements because of its usefulness. Lettuce, watercress and parsley served him for food and drink, demonstrating that the sk ills of millers and cooks were for him superfluous. In the autumn he also ate a little fruit. But he never ate before Vespers. At the same time as treating his body to such rigours, he was indefatigable in caring for others. He was always r eady to give hospitality to all comers; he would offer them the best bread which he had chosen himself and fragrant wines, and fish and vegetables, and everythi ng else that goes with them. He would even sit with guests at noonday, offering each one of them a helping of what was set before them, giving each one a cup an d bidding them drink, imitating him whose name he shared, that patriarch who pre pared food for his guests but ate nothing himself (Genesis 18.8). Sometimes he sat in judgment between those who were in legal disputes with each other, some he persuaded to be reconciled, the one with the other, with others h e was more forceful when they seemed unwilling to accept his gentle and benign s uggestions. No person in the wrong could ever by his own audacity ever gain a vi ctory over the person in the right, because he always took the part of the one i n the right who had suffered some injury, making sure that his case was unassail able, and impossible for the troublemaker to overcome. He was just like the best of doctors, who always inhibit the humours which are too active, and ensure a b alance between all the faculties. The Emperor himself wanted to see him, for he had heard that Abraames could alwa ys discern what was good and what was bad. He visited him and greeted him and em braced him, and declared that his country-style garments were more elegant than his own purple. A group of noble ladies also shook his hand and bowed to him [li t. 'seized his hands and knees'], and asked questions of this man who could not even understand the Greek language. This is a measure of how his way of life was held to be worthy of honour and respect by rulers and all kinds of people. Is it not true that after God's lovers and followers have died they acquire an e ven greater glory? This can be borne out in many cases, but especially in the ca se of those who were associated with this divine man. For when the Emperor heard about his death he proposed that his body should be put into a sacred shrine, b ut then he realised that it would be right and proper to give the body of the sh epherd into the care of his flock. The Emperor himself, therefore, led the funer al procession, followed by a chorus of noble ladies and everyone over whom he ha d ruled, all the people, military and civilian, together with the government off icials. The city of Antioch and those associated with it gave him great respect, until he arrived at the great river Euphrates. But then on the riverbank people from the city all crowded together, both citizens and visitors, together with p eople from the country and even some from neighbouring lands, eager to get a ble ssing. The bier was protected by many lictors beating back those who were trying to denude the body in order to take away a rag of his clothing. On all sides co

uld be heard some singing psalms, some weeping, a woman here mourning him as lea der, another there as one who had provided spiritual nourishment, another as pas tor and judge, a man weeping because he had lost a father, another a helper and healer. And so they committed that holy and sacred body to the tomb amid a vast cry of praises and tears. For myself I admire him because after having to change the circumstances of his life he did not change his way of life. When he was a bishop he did not lapse in to a relaxed and careless way of life, but even increased the rigour of his mona stic exercises. I judge his place in history to be monastic, and I have taken no thing away from that holy company which was precious to him. I also desire his blessing. Chapter XVIII EUSEBIUS To the holy men I have already mentioned I must now add the great Eusebius, who died not so very long ago. Even when he got quite old he gave just as much time as usual to his labours, and his labours were matched by his virtues. The rewar ds which he generated were manifold, the magnitude of his benefits are a measure of the struggles in which he won the victory. In the beginning he entrusted the development of his faith to others, and where they led he followed. Those divin e men were athletes in the exercises of virtue, and when he had spent some time with them, and well and truly acquired the knowledge of how to seek for wisdom, he embraced a solitary life and went to live on the side of a mountain near a la rge village called Asicha. He dug a ditch and built a dry-stone wall, and spent the rest of his life in the open air, subduing his body, clothed in skins, subsi sting on chickpeas and beans soaked in water. Sometimes however he did wear garm ents woven from reed grass as a protection for the weakness of his body. When he got so old that he had lost most of his teeth he still made no alteratio ns to either his diet or his dwelling. Freezing in the winter, burning in the su mmer, he bore all the vagaries of the weather with fortitude. His face was lined and his limbs were shrunken. His body was so wasted away by all his labours tha t he could not even keep a girdle from falling away from his loins. There was no thing that would stop it; his hips and buttocks were so thin that a girdle just slipped downwards. So he fixed the girdle to his tunic, thinking by this means t o make it stay in position. He could not abide a lot of conversation. For when he was caught up in contempla tion of the divine he was reluctant to tear his mind away, but even though given primarily to this deep love, he did allow some people whom he knew to remove th e barriers to his door and come in. After giving them the benefit of his divine teaching he would beg them to replace the barriers as they went away. There came a time when he felt he had had enough of that, and wanted to avoid even the min imum of human company, so he blocked up the approach to his cell completely, by piling up as many stones as possible into the entrance. But he left a gap throug h which he could talk to his friends without being seen, and though which he was able to receive his meagre supply of food. I was the only one to whom he then did not deny the benefit of his conversation, in that sweet voice of his so pleasing to God. In fact he would often keep me w ith him discussing heavenly matters, when I wanted to get away. But many people still came to him wanting his blessing. He could not bear crowds, however, so in spite of his age, and with no consideration at all for his physical weakness, h e climbed over the ditch and bank, which even a strong and healthy person would have found difficult to do, and went to a nearby monastery where he built himsel f a ditch and bank in the angle of a wall, and continued in his usual labours. The superior of this monastery said that he brought an end to seven weeks of fas ting by eating only fifteen figs. He came to the end of his earthly strife when he had lived more than ninety years. His bodily weakness it would be impossible to describe, but it was overcome by his keenness of mind. His love of God made e verything easy and straightforward for him. In the midst of his labours he came to the winning post of his race, the end of his struggles in sight, longing for

his crown. I ask that I may know of the benefit of his intercession coming hither now, even though he is in heaven above. For I do believe that he lives even now in a more intimate relationship with God. Chapter XIX SALAMANUS I believe I would be failing in my duty if I were not to leave for posterity an account of the life of the admirable Salamanus. I shall rescue him from oblivion by giving a short summary of his life. There is a village on the western bank of the river Euphrates called Capersana, where he was born. In embracing a life of silence he found a small dwelling with no door or windows near the village on the other side of the river, where he sh ut himself up. He dug his garden once a year, from which he obtained a year's su pply of food, but spoke to nobody. He persevered in this not just for a brief pe riod but for many years. When the bishop of the city within whose jurisdiction t he village lay heard about him he visited him with the intention of bestowing up on him the gift of priesthood. He entered the little house by making a gap in th e bank, laid his hands upon him and said the prayers, and explained to him sever al times over the meaning of the grace that had been bestowed on him. He got no word in reply from Salamanus, before he went away leaving Salamanus to build up the ditch and bank again. Not much later people who lived in the village from which he came crossed over t he river by night, came into his house and carried him back to his own village. He made no protest or resistance. They built him a little house like the one on the eastern bank and forthwith installed him it. And still he kept complete sile nce in all their doings with him. After a few days the people of the village on the opposite bank came by night, entered his house and carried him off without h is making any objection, or contention that he should stay where he was. But nor did he go back eagerly and happily, either. The point is that he had decided th at he was completely dead to the world, illustrating what the Apostle had said: 'I am crucified with Christ. I live, but not I, it is Christ who lives in me. An d the life that I now live in Christ, is lived in the living faith in the son of God who loves me and gave himself for me' (Galatians 2.20). That is what he was like. And that should be enough to show what the whole course of his life was l ike. And now, in the hope of a blessing from him, I shall pass on to someone else. Chapter XX MARIS There is a village in Homer which we know by the name of Netis. The divine Maris built a little dwelling near there and lived enclosed in it for thirty-seven ye ars. Being so close to a mountain this house was very damp; in winter time the m oisture dripped off the walls. Villagers and farm workers alike knew how harmful this was to the body, and how many diseases it gave rise to, but none of that c ould persuade that sacred exemplar to move house. He stayed there with fortitude and without interruption till his life's end. Even in his early life he had laboured to acquire the virtues, especially chasti ty of body and soul; he told me quite plainly himself that his body remained as whole and incorrupt as when it came from his mother's womb. When he was a young man celebrating the feasts of the martyrs, the people were charmed by the beaut y of his singing voice. He was often called upon to sing the psalms, and he was physically very beautiful. And yet the beauty of his soul never came to any kind of harm in spite of the beauty of his body, the purity of his voice, or the cro wds of people who approached him with their many requests. He lived exactly like all those who are enclosed, developing the care of his own soul. He increased i n virtue in proportion to the labours which he underwent. I often used to see him. His door was always open to me. He would welcome me whe

never I came and would talk with me freely at great length on the search for wis dom. Moreover he lived in complete simplicity. He detested any variation in his routi nes. He much preferred to live with want than with an overabundant supply. Even at the age of ninety he still wore a shirt of goat's hair. When at length he wan ted to be present at the offering of the spiritual and mystical sacrifice, he as ked that the offering of the divine gift be brought to him. I was very happy to agree to that. I ordered the sacred vessels to be brought (the village was not a ll that far away), and using the hands of the deacons as an altar I offered the saving sacrifice. He took part with the greatest of spiritual pleasure, assertin g that he had seen heaven, and that never before had he experienced such joy. Having experienced his immense love towards me I would have thought it a great i njury to him not to praise him now he is dead, and hold up his love of wisdom to others as an exceptional way to follow. I now pray that I shall always enjoy hi s help, and bring this story to an end. Chapter XXI JACOBUS I have given an account of the struggles of those athletes of virtue who have wo n the victory. I shall now turn to the way of life of those who even now are eng aged in labour, who are suffering the trials of the battle, winning brilliant an d very famous victories while yet with us, and striving to outdo with their labo urs those who have gone before us. I shall endeavour to keep their memory alive for the benefit of those who are coming after. The way of life of the saints who shone in their times is of enormous benefit to those who come after. May their stories be of benefit to those who come after us. I shall take my cue from Jacobus the Great [see Chapter I], who was the first of all the others, both in order of time and in the amount of work he did. And the admirable things done by those who emulated him are beyond dispute. I don't kno w how it comes about that of those who are dead and those who are still with us, the name that stands out is Jacobus. Indeed in writing about these lives I bega n with that divine Jacobus who put to flight the Persian army with his prayers. When they attacked the walls around the city he prevented the city from being ta ken and put to flight the enemy by calling down on them a plague of mosquitoes a nd gnats. And he who by chance bears the same name is like him in his way of lif e, and takes pride of place among those of that athletic company who are alive n ow, not simply because he has the same name, but because he emulates him in virt ue and has himself become an exemplar of those who search for wisdom.

Chapter XXI Jacobus (continued), Book IX He lived for some time with the incomparable Maro [see Chapter XVI], and absorbe d his divine teaching, but soon outshone his teacher by even greater works. He s heltered within the walls of a former pagan temple, where he constructed a tent out of skins which he used as protection against the rain and snow. He was able to make use of the tent, the temple and the shelter of the walls, but the only r oof he had was the sky. All the winds of heaven beat down upon him; now he was s oaked by the rain, now frozen by ice and snow, now scorched and burnt by the ray s of the sun, always enduring all these things with fortitude, as if wrestling w ith the body of someone else, striving to subdue the nature of that body by the power of his mind. Clad in this mortal and vulnerable [passibile] body, he lived a life beyond suffering [impassibile], concentrating on the spiritual life dwel ling in his flesh [vitam incorpoream in corpore], and therefore able to proclaim with St Paul: 'We walk in the flesh but we do not fight according to the flesh,

for our weapons are not of the flesh but of the power of God for the destructio n of our defences, destroying the thoughts and every other high thing which vaun t themselves against the knowledge of God, but rather taking captive the whole mind into obedience towards God' (2 Corinthians 10.4-5). He fought these superna tural battles by attending to every least detail of everything he did. Shut up i n his narrow dwelling, freeing his mind from the tumult of external affairs, fix ing his mind securely on the memory of God, he thus contrived to move towards pe rfect and absolute virtue. After working hard for a while and getting used to the idea that such works were good for him, he began to enter into more severe testings. For he moved on to t his mountain thirty miles from the city, where his reputation as someone to be v enerated began to grow. Whereas before he had been unknown and quite unproductiv e, now he was believed to have received such blessings that the topsoil was almo st all gone because the crowds of people who came to him were in the habit of ca rrying off handfuls of it as holy relics. All who came to him could see that he lived there with no cave, no tent, no shelter, no ditch and bank, no protective hedge around him, but in full view of everyone he prayed or stood in silence, th en sat, then stood, in sickness or in health, so that it was plain to all who sa w him that he had conquered all his natural impulses. Nor would anybody, however freely brought up, find it easy to discharge their bodily waste in the presence of other people unless they were exercised in the very highest way of life. And I say this not as having learnt it from anyone else, for I saw him myself. Fourteen years ago he fell seriously ill. It affected him like everyone else who is provided with a mortal body. It was a time of fierce summer heat, and the ra ys of the sun burnt even more fiercely, for the winds had died down and the air was absolutely still. His illness was caused by a superfluity of yellow bile, wh ich pressed down on his intestine and infected it. Then I saw how great was his patience. For a great number of villagers had gathered in order to meet this glo rious man, but he just sat there not quite sure what to do: whether to obey the force of nature which was compelling him to go apart, or whether consideration for the people should lead him to stay where he was in the same state and diffic ulty. Realising his dilemma I urged the people to go away; some needed a lot of encouragement to do so, some less, but in the end I had to order them solemnly o n my authority as a priest. The divine man, however, even before they had all go ne, was overcome by the force of nature, but he remained perfectly unworried. It was nightfall before they were compelled to go home. The next day when I went to him the heat was even greater than before, and his f ever was being fed and increased by this exterior heat, so pretending to have a headache I told him I could hardly bear the force of the sun's rays, and begged him to let me have some kind of shelter. He took three long reeds and fixed two woven blankets to them, thus providing some shade. "Go in under that," he said. "It would not be right, father," I said, "for a strong young man like me to take advantage of such a shelter while you are suffering such a violent fever. It is you who could do with the shelter, but you sit there suffering the full force o f the sun. If you want me to enjoy the shade come and keep me company in this li ttle tent, for I would like to stay with you but the force of the sun's rays pre vents me." He yielded to my request at these words, and accepted the remedy I had planned f or him. When we were enjoying the shade together, I spoke to him again. "I think I shall have to lie down," I said. "My buttocks can't put up with sitti ng down for long without becoming sore." "Well, lie down then," he said. "I don't think I could allow myself to lie down if you stayed sitting up," I sai d. "So if you want me to take advantage of that relief, let us lie down together , father. Then I shan't have to blush because I am the only one lying down." By these words I undermined his resistance and got him to rest himself by lying down. I used those deceiving words only because he was ill, in the hope of lift ing his spirits. I put my hand inside his clothing in order to rub his back, and found that he was carrying a considerable weight of iron hanging from his neck

and loins. There were also other circular chains hanging from his neck, two in f ront and two behind, at an angle from the lower chains, so that where the two ci rcles met they formed a letter X. He also had some chains from his elbows down t o his hands. At the sight of these burdens weighing many talents, I begged him t o give his body some respite. "You can't go on wearing these voluntary burdens at the same time as bearing thi s involuntary illness," I said. "Let the fever fulfil for now the same function as the iron. When the fever is gone then you might return to imposing on the bod y the labour of carrying the iron." He agreed to this as well, taking them off to an accompaniment of many short pra yers. But then, after a few more days of illness he began to get better. Later on, he fell into a much more serious illness, and many people gathered fro m various different places in the hope of being able to carry off his body. When news of this reached the city, soldiers and civilians all came rushing out, the soldiers armed with their military weapons, the civilians with any other weapon they could find. They drew up in an ordered line of battle, throwing spears and hurling stones, not deliberately wounding but trying to instil fear. Having dri ven them off they put that athlete of famous victories on to a litter and brough t him into the city. He was completely unaware of what they were doing; nor had he been conscious when the people were coming after relics. They came to the chu rch of the prophets and put his litter in the monastery next door. Somebody came to Berhoea, which is where I was then, to tell me about everything that had happened, and he told me Jacobus was dead. I hastened away and journey ed all night until at dawn I met up with him at last. He did not speak, nor was he aware of anyone about him. I spoke to him and prayed for his good health in t he name of the great Acacius. At once he opened his eyes and asked what had happ ened to him and how long I had been there. When I replied to him he closed his e yes again. Towards evening on the third day he asked where he was, and when we told him he became quite agitated, and asked to be taken back to his mountain immediately. Since I was wanting to stay with him for good and serve him, I ordered the litte r to be brought for him to be taken back to where he wanted to be. Then I witnes sed how completely alien to this beloved leader of mine was any ambition or desi re for glory. For next day I offered him some broth made from barley- groats to build up his strength a little. He refused to take it, for he never ate anything hot as he had forbidden himself the use of fire. When he refused I spoke to him . "Do this for our sake, father," I said, "for we are united in wanting nothing bu t your good health. For you are not only set before us as an example, but you ai d us through your prayers and mediate the goodness of God to us. If you find it difficult to accept something which you are not used to, try and put up with it all the same, father. For this also is a part of the search for wisdom. In takin g thought for your food while in good health, you have conquered any inordinate appetites; Now that you don't seem to want anything, show some flexibility by ha ving something to eat." As I was speaking, the man of God, Polychronius [see Chapter XXIV] arrived, and he backed me up in what I was saying. He said that he would be willing to try so me first, even though it was still morning, and he was one who often went for a week before taking any food. Jacobus was convinced by what we were saying, and d id drink a bowlful of the broth, though he did so with eyes screwed up, as one d oes when drinking something bitter. He was unable to walk because of his weakness, but we persuaded him to wash his feet, and I think that the result of this task was that our eyes were opened fur ther into the way of his wisdom. One of those who were ministering to him wanted to put a screen round the bath to shield him from view "Why are you putting a screen round the bath?" he asked. "So that you won't be seen by those coming to visit you," was the reply. "God forbid, my son," he said, "that you should conceal from men what is open to the God of all. Him alone do I wish to serve, I care nothing for human glory. W hat use is it to me if they should think that there is more due to my hard works

and practices than to God himself? They will not give me any reward for my labo urs, it is God from whom comes all." Who can refrain from admiring both his teaching and the mind which produced them , so far above any thought of human glory? I remember something else that happened once. It was long past vesper time, and he was sitting with his plate in front of him eating his lentils steeped in wate r, which was his usual food, when he saw in the distance someone coming. It was the man from the city in charge of collecting military taxes. Jacobus did not pu t his food down, but continued to eat as usual. He had a vision which led him to believe that his visitor was a demon, whom he therefore berated as an enemy. Bu t he kept on eating his lentils to show that he was not afraid. The visitor begg ed for mercy, even while still being vigorously cursed. "I am only human," he said, "and I swear on oath that I have just left the city before vespers to get here now at this time." "Well, be of good heart, then and stop looking so frightened. Come, be my guest and share my meal, as long as you will go away again when asked." And he gave him his right hand and offered him some lentils. It was in acts like this that he drove from his heart any trace of vainglory. I hardly need mention how he was able to bear all kinds of testings. Sometimes h e would lie prone, buried under a snowfall of three days and nights, praying to God, but unwilling to be seen in anything other than the rags which he customari ly wore. Sometimes his neighbours had to dig him out with shovels and mattocks f rom the snow which was covering him, and then wake him up and get him moving aga in. Labours like this brought him gifts of divine grace which everyone wished to have a share in. His blessing drove out many fevers, many illnesses ceased and totally disappeared, many demons were put to flight, and water which he had bles sed was a powerful remedy. Is there anyone who has not heard about the boy whom he raised from the dead by prayer? His parents lived in one of the city's suburbs and had had many children who had all died an early death. When this last son was born the father ran to the man of God praying that he might have a long life and promising to dedicate him to God should he live. But when he was four years old the boy died. The fath er was absent at the time, but as he came back he saw the boy's body being carri ed out, and snatched him up out of the litter. "I have to fulfil my promise," he said, "and give him to the man of God even tho ugh he is dead." He carried him away and laid him down before those holy feet, repeating what he had earlier said to the bearers of the litter. The divine man placed the body be fore him, bent his knees and lay prone, praying to the God of the living and the dead. In the evening the boy uttered a cry and called for his father. The divin e man knew that God had heard his prayers and restored the boy to life, and he w orshipped him who listens to those who fear him and hears their prayers. He fini shed his prayers and returned the boy to his father. I am a witness to this; I h eard the father telling the tale. He told this apostolic miracle to many others knowing that the more people who heard it, the more it would be passed on to oth ers. Later on I also enjoyed his help. I will mention one or two things, which I thin k it would be ungenerous of me to pass over in silence, without sharing the bene fit of them. That accursed Marcion was planting many thornbushes of false doctrine about in t he region of Cyrus at this time, and I was trying to pluck them out by the roots , and it was causing me a lot of hard work as I used every device I possibly cou ld. There were those in my flock who ought to have loved me but who poured scorn on anything I might say prophetically; I was praying, but they were returning e vil for good and hatred in exchange for my love. They were using powerful magic, relying on the aid of malignant demons, but not trying to wage war by way of vi sions. For a demon bent on destruction came to me by night and simply shouted in the Syrian language. "Why are you fighting with Marcion? What have you taken up arms against him for ? What harm has he ever done you? Give up your warfare. Stop being so malevolent

. Discover the advantages of peace. You must know that I have dug a defensive di tch around you, to prevent me from seeing the chorus of martyrs and the great Ja cob protecting you." "Did you hear that?" I said to one of our company sleeping next to me. "Yes, indeed," he said. "I heard everything. And I got up and looked around to s ee if I could find out who was talking. And then for your sake I stopped, becaus e I thought you were asleep." So then we both got up and looked around, but we could not see anyone moving, an d we could no longer hear anyone talking. The others living with us had also hea rd what was said. We understood that the "chorus of martyrs" referred to a flask hanging near my b ed, which contained oil which had been collected from many martyrs, and which wa s a source of blessing. And around my shoulders was the short cloak which had be longed to the great Jacob. For me it was more powerful than any adamantine lock. I tried to go into the village, and found that there were many forces preventin g me from going in. I sent a message to my 'Isaiah', begging him to give me his divine help. " Be of good heart," was his reply. "All those encumbrances like spider webs hav e been wiped out. I have had a revelation from the Lord tonight, not in a dream, but in actual fact. For when I had begun singing the psalms I saw a large serpe nt in the place where you are, breathing out a kind of fire in front of it, stre tching from the West to the East, flying through the air. When I had completed t hree prayers I saw it turn and form itself into a circle, with its tail in its m outh. When I had come to the end of the eighth prayer I saw it split in two and disappear in a cloud of smoke." That was his vision. We saw how it worked out in practice. For in the morning, a t the command of the chief of demons, there appeared those who were of the Marci on sect (though now they belong to the apostolic band), stretching out from the West, with their swords bared against us. At the third hour of the day, on a sud den impulse, they seemed to be concerned only with the safety of their own skins , like a serpent with its tail in its mouth, and at the eighth hour they scatter ed, leaving us free to go into the village. There we found a serpent made out of brass which they had been worshipping. When they had taken up arms against the maker and creator of the universe, they had begun to make a cult out of this dre adful serpent as being the enemy of God. This tale shows the blessings I receive d from this venerable chief among men. Now that my tale has entered the realms of divine revelation, well then, I shall tell you what I heard from his own lips - lips which cannot tell a lie. He did not tell me these things from any desire to boast (for his divine soul was not r emotely sullied by any vice), but simply because the usefulness of it compelled him to disclose what he would much rather have kept secret. I was humbly begging him to pray to the God of all to provide me with a harvest free from weeds and liberate me completely from the seeds of heresy. For the errors of the abominabl e Marcion vexed me greatly, and were becoming very strong. "You don't need me or anyone else to intercede for you," he said in answer to my plea, "when you have the glorious John Baptist, precursor of the Word, offering prayers for you without ceasing. " "But I have faith in your prayers," I said, "just as much as in the prayers of o ther holy apostles and prophets whose relics we have recently been given." "Be of good heart," he said. "All you need are the prayers of John the Baptist." But I would not be silenced, and kept on questioning him more closely. "Why John the Baptist, particularly?" I asked. "How I would love to embrace and kiss his adorable relics," he said. "I won't bring them to you," I said, "unless you promise to tell me what you see ." And he promised, and next day I brought to him what he wanted. He sent everyone away and spoke to me alone. "It was you who accepted these relics to be the defenders of our city when they came here from Phoenicia and Palestine, accompanied by a choir singing psalms, b ut it did occur to me to wonder whether they really were relics of the Baptist o

r of some other martyr with the same name. Next day I was standing to sing the p salms when I saw a figure dressed in white who spoke to me: "'Brother Jacobus, why did you not come out to meet us?' "'Who are you?' I asked. "'We came recently from Phoenicia and Palestine, and everyone welcomed us eagerl y, pastor and people, citizens and country dwellers. You were the only one who d id not take part in the welcome, and what's more you sowed doubts in the minds o f other people.' "'I may not have been present with you and the others. but I do honour you and I worship the God of all.' "He came again the next day at the same time. "'Look, brother Jacobus,' he said, 'at the figure standing nearby, dressed in cl othing as white as snow.' "This figure was wearing vestments and gesturing as if he was baptising, and I d ivined it was John the Baptist. "'Yes, it is John the Baptist, as you realised,' he said. 'And when you went to the village that night to confront those traitors, you had prayed that I should offer earnest prayers to God, and I spent all night beseeching the Lord.' "Then I heard a voice saying, 'Fear not, Jacobus, it is indeed John the Baptist praying for you all night to the God of all. If the audacity of the devil had no t been put to flight by his intercessions, there would have been a great slaught er.'" Having told me this he then urged that I should be the only one to know about it , and that I was not to tell anyone else. But because it is such a beneficial st ory I have told many people, and now I even write it down. He also said that he had seen the patriarch Joseph, his hair and beard grey, shi ning brightly in his old age, famed as the greatest in virtue among the saints. "When I named him as the greatest among those who were with him in procession," said Jacobus, "he himself said he was the least." He also told me about the great number of various kinds of attack made on him by the demons. "On my first encounter with these beings," he said, "I saw a naked shape like an Ethiopian, shooting flames out of his eyes. As I looked at him I was terrified, but turned immediately to prayer. And during the whole time he appeared to me I was completely unable to take any food. After seven or eight days I was still f asting, until at last I felt able to despise his filthy insults. I sat down and took some food. He was infuriated by the strength of my spirit, and threatened t o beat me with rods. "'If that is what the God of all allows you to do', I said, 'strike, and I will gladly accept the blow as coming from God. But if it is not permitted to you, st op persecuting the soldiers of Christ immediately.' "At this he fled. But he continued to keep on attacking me secretly. For there w as someone who brought me water twice a week, and the demon met him disguised as me, took the water from him and then poured it out. After this had happened not just twice but thrice I was suffering grievously from thirst. I asked my usual water carrier why he had not brought me any water for the last fifteen days, and he told me he had brought it three or four times and I had taken it from him. "'And where was I, when I took it from you,' I asked. "And he named the spot. "'Even if you see me coming to meet you a thousand times', I said, 'don't hand t he water pot over except in this place that you see me now.' "After these open and irritating attacks, he tried some other methods as well. H e shouted loudly at me by night. "'I will make you stink so foully, and inflict such slanderous reputation on you that nobody will want to come near you,' "'Thank you very much,' I said. 'You have unwittingly bestowed a great benefit o n me, for you have seen to it that I shall be all the more occupied with the rem embrance of God. The more leisure time I have the more time I can spend in perpe tual contemplation of the divine beauty.'

Chapter XXI, Jacobus (continued) Book IX (Thalassius, Limnaeus, Johannes,Moses, Antiochus, Antonius, Zebinus and Polychro nius also on this page "A few days later as I was saying my midday office, I saw two women coming down the mountain. Contrary to my usual custom I was apprehensive about their approac h, and thought I had better throw stones at them, but then I remembered the thre ats of that accursed demon. For I understood that this would have led to the 'sl anderous reputation' he was talking about. So I shouted out in a loud voice that even if they should wrap themselves around my shoulders I would not throw stone s at them but simply give myself to prayer. They just vanished when I said that; my words had put an end to that showpiece of a vision." He told me also about something which happened at the time when that pernicious band of robbers were descending on us out of Isauria, plundering and laying wast e many parts of the East. He was very frightened, not that he might be killed (f or he had no great love for his body), but that he might be taken captive, led i nto slavery and forced to witness scenes of godless wickedness. When the devil s ensed his fear (for he had often been observing him, and this had come to his at tention), he imitated at night the ululation of women. "And I seemed to hear," he said, "the noise of a great army approaching, setting the village on fire. I immediately parted my hair, half to the right and half t o the left, and drew it all down to my chest, so that my neck would be more easi ly exposed to the sword and I would be liberated from this abominable spectacle by one swift stroke. This went on all night; I was expecting to be attacked at a ny minute, but when daylight came and I asked some visitors what they had heard about the Isauri, they said they had not heard anything about them for days. So then I knew that it had all been a vision from the devil". At other times he would take on the appearance of a vigorous and sprightly youth , devastatingly beautiful, with lovely blond hair, who would come to him smiling playfully. "I was very angry," he said, "and I rejected him and cursed him. But he just sta yed there, seductively giggling and talking and inviting me to have a good time. I was even more annoyed still. "'How is it,' I asked, 'that you can wander about through the whole world, pract ising these deceptions on everybody?' "'It's not me alone' he replied. 'There are thousands of us scattered about the world, who play about with a serious intent, for by this playfulness we intend t o bring the whole human race down to perdition.' "'You,' I said, 'be off. It is Christ who commands you, he who drove the whole h erd of swine into the deep' (Matthew 8.32). He heard, and vanished, unable to be ar the power of the name of the Lord, nor strong enough to bear the wisdom of hi s servants." There is a great deal more I could tell you, but I am unwilling to write too muc h about it, lest the sheer amount of it provoke unbelief in the minds of the wea ker brethren. For those who know this divine man nothing that is said about him could appear incredible, because the virtue that they see in him authenticates w hat they have heard about him. But when it is only the written word which brings these stories to posterity, we must needs temper our story in line with the wea kness of those who listen, for the ear is much more liable to incredulity than t he eye. Others were putting up a large building for him in the neighbouring village, not many miles away. And I set aside a small area in this building in honour of the victories of the glorious martyrs. When Jacobus heard about this he told me tha t his own body should be buried in the mountain. But I told him that for someone who took no thought for the needs of this present life he was out of order in w orrying about where he should be buried. I saw that he took this to heart, and I

nodded my agreement, and caused a small cell to be divided off. When I saw that the rock was broken up by hoarfrost, I asked if he would allow this cell to be made into a small dwelling. He agreed, the walls were completed and we put a roo f on it. "I don't want this to be known as Jacobus' tomb," he said. "I want this building to commemorate the victories of the glorious martyrs. Let me be put like some s tranger in a separate tomb, although as one held worthy to be put near them." He not only said this but made sure that it would be carried out. For he collect ed relics of a great number of prophets, apostles and martyrs, and placed them a ll in one shrine, so that he would remain in the company of the saints, and rise with them, and be found worthy of the contemplation of God. That should be sufficient to show how modest he was. He who had gathered togethe r such great riches in the midst of extreme poverty, desired to travel like a po or pilgrim in the midst of rich merchants. The labours of my beloved leader, the number of his contests, the divine graces that he received, the number of times he drank the victor's cup and was crowned with many crowns must by this be suff iciently depicted. Some people find fault with his severe and difficult customs, and find it hard t o understand why he delighted so much in solitude and silence. I shall now say a few things about that as I bring my story to an end. As I have already said, he lived in full view of everyone, surrounded by no ditch and bank, with no hut or tent for covering. There were no locked doors confronting anyone who came to hi m. They all had immediate access to him and could say to him whatever they wante d. Others who loved this way of searching for wisdom did have locked doors in th eir enjoyment of silence, but they differed in their measure of enclosure, and i n how often and for how long they decided to open their doors, and how much time they wished to spend in divine contemplation. Jacobus was not like any of those . But he did object if anyone bothered him during his times of prayer. They would usually back off if he protested to them, and he would then resume his prayers. If they persisted in bothering him more than once or twice, he would get very an gry and speak to them very sharply. I remonstrated with him once about this. "These people are naturally very upset," I said, "when you drive them away witho ut having the benefit of your blessing. Since many of them have journeyed here f or many days for that very purpose wouldn't it be better if they did not go away in an indignant frame of mind, but filled with joy in their hearts, and therefo re more likely to be able to enlighten the ignorance of others, by giving them f riendly accounts of this way of life?" "I did not come to this mountain," he replied, "for the sake of anybody else exc ept myself. I am so full of the most vicious sins, that my need for medicine is overwhelming. Therefore I lay siege to the mercy of God that he may provide me w ith the medicine for my vices. Wouldn't it be reprehensible and stupid of me to interrupt my course of prayer to hold converse with humans? If I were the servan t of another human being, of the same nature as myself, and instead of serving h im by bringing him his food and drink at the appointed time, I were to go into a long conversation with my fellow servants, would I not be rightly liable to be beaten? Or if I were to come before the magistrate to make a formal complaint ab out some injury I had received, and then interrupted my speech in the middle of it in order to talk with someone else who was there, wouldn't you agree that the magistrate would not put up with that, and would not give me the help I needed, but whip me out of court? It is right and proper that a servant in his master's presence and a plaintiff in the presence of the judge should behave themselves correctly. But I am coming before God the eternal Lord, the most just Judge, and King of the universe; shouldn't I behave in a similar manner, and not turn away to my fellow servants and carry on a long conversation with them, when I should be praying?" All this that I heard I passed on to those who were annoyed with him. It seemed to me that what he had said was good and even beautiful. To make a further point , it is characteristic of someone in love to have no feelings for anyone except the person whom they love and admire, and dream about at night, and long to see

again soon. So it seems to me that if someone desires to be given to contemplati on, it would be very hard that he should be hindered from fulfilling his search for that most excellent beauty which is all his desire. We have not written this as a formal eulogy, for we have tried to be as brief as possible lest we bore the reader with our prolixity. Even if somebody wishes to add more to this story and bring forward many other famous deeds to add to what has already been written, and to write them down, nevertheless I think it right to stop here. May the outcome of his godly struggles bring the reward that thos e struggles deserve, may the rest of his life be consonant with what has gone be fore, may he may be victorious at the winning post, and sustain and suffuse us w ith his prayers, so that we too may be strengthened and bring about many victori es for those who have learned about them from us, and that we may all be victors as we pass out of this life. Chapter XXII THALASSIUS AND LIMNAEUS Helimna is a village near us which formerly offered its soil to the seeds of tha t ungodly Marcion, but which now enjoys the agriculture of the gospel. To the No rth there is a hill, neither too steep or too gentle, where that admirable man, Thalassius, built a monastery. He was a man adorned with many good qualities, b ut excelled everyone else in simplicity of life, gentleness and self-control. I say this, not only because of what I have heard, but because I have seen it for myself. I have often visited him, and had gratifying conversation with him. In this place he trained Limnaeus, whose praises are now sung by all. He came to this monastery while still a youth and initiated into their beautiful way of se arching for wisdom. He soon realised that language could be dangerous, and opted for total silence, even while still so young; for a long time he went without s peaking to anyone. After imbibing as much as possible of the divine teaching of the older man, he had become the living image of all his virtues, after which he went to Maro, whom we have already mentioned [see Chapter XVI]. He went there a t the same time as the divine Jacobus. After learning a great deal from Maro, an d emulating him in his life under God, he took possession of the top of another mountain hanging over a village called Targalla. Here he lives to this day, with no cottage, no tent, no hut, simply surrounded by a wall which he built out of stones. There is just one little opening in this wall, carefully blocked-up by c lay, which he never clears away for visitors, although he does allow me to clear it away in order to visit him. That is why many people come from all directions if they know that I am going to visit him, hoping that they will also be able t o go in with me. Usually when people come to him he speaks to them through anoth er small opening and gives them his blessing. To many of them his blessing bring s healing. He calls himself our servant, and heals diseases, expels demons and f ollows the apostles in performing miracles. He not only brought healing to those who came to him; time and time again he bro ught healing to his own body. Quite some time ago he suffered a severe digestive disorder. Only those who have experienced this illness can fully know how sever e are the griping pains they suffer, but just to observe them is also to know ho w they twist and turn in a frenzy, turning this way and that way, repeatedly str etching and contracting their feet, they sit down, get up again and walk about, sometimes finding that sitting in a bath gives them some relief. But why go on e numerating all these symptoms when they are quite generally known? When Limnaeus was in the throes of this illness, suffering so many intense pains, he would no t accept the help of any medicine, would not make use of a bed, but lay down on a board on the bare ground, and was cured only by prayer and the sign of the cro ss, and in the midst of his suffering he dulled the pain by the repetition of th e holy name. Later, while walking about one night, he trod on a viper. The viper in defence f ixed its teeth in his foot. Limnaeus moved his hand down towards his foot in ord er to massage it, and the viper bit his hand. He then tried to use his left hand to protect himself and the viper bit that as well. He had more than ten bites b

efore the viper was satisfied and went away to seek its own den. He was in consi derable pain as a result of all this, but even so he would not use any medicines , but trusted solely to the medicine of faith, the sign of the cross, prayer and the invocation of God. I can only suppose that the God of all allowed this beas t to attack his sacred body so that the ability of his divine soul to bear suffe ring might be made manifest to all. And that of course was the remedy used by th e brave and generous Job, who was more than willing to be tossed about by the gr eatest storms of all kinds, as long as he could demonstrate to everyone the wisd om of his master. We would not otherwise have known either the bravery of the on e or the long-suffering of the other, unless a space for throwing all kinds of w eapons at them had been allowed to the enemy of godliness. I think I have said enough to show his long-suffering. But I will also add somet hing about his clemency and kindness. For he gathered up many blind people and b eggars, and built little dwelling places for them both to the East and to the We st, where he bade them live and praise God. He urged his visitors to supply thei r food and other necessities. He however remained enclosed in the midst of them, encouraging both his visitors and the blind and the beggars in singing psalms, to make their regular praising of God to be heard. Such was his kindness to peop le of that sort. He and the great Jacobus both spent the same amount of time in this godly battle They completed thirty-eight years. Chapter XXIII JOHANNES, MOSES, ANTIOCHUS, ANTONIUS Johannes also took up this kind of life, a man famous above all for his gentlene ss and kindness. He occupied a rather rugged cliff, exposed to the storms coming from the North, where he has already lived for twenty-five years, buffeted by t he winds of heaven. For the rest, there is no need for me to itemise his food, h is clothing and his iron weights, for they are all similar to what I have alread y described. He was above other human beings in this, that he would not accept a ny comforting solace from anybody, as the following incident demonstrates. For s omeone kindly planted an almond seedling to provide him with his only bit of gre enery, so that as it grew into a tree he could enjoy its shade and feast his eye s, but he ordered that it should be taken out to avoid having to take any pleasu re in it. Moses also embraced this way of life, living on the top of a high mountain overh anging the village of Rome. And Antiochus, an older man, who built a small enclosure in a very remote mounta in. And Antonius, who even in old age rivalled the deeds of those much younger. They all had the same sort of clothing and food, the same reputation, the same o rder of fixed prayers, labouring night and day. Neither length of service, nor o ld age nor natural weakness is able to diminish their powers of fortitude, which continue to flourish and keep alive their desire to keep working. This difficul t life of striving for virtue is embraced by many other athletes in the mountain s and fields of God. It would be difficult to number them all and describe the l ife of each one. I have said sufficient to be of use to those who wish to benefit from it, and I will now turn to another kind of story, praying that I too may share in their bl essings. Chapter XXIV ZEBINAS AND POLYCHRONIUS Even to the present day, those who have seen Zebinas count themselves fortunate. For they say that even in extreme old age he carried out the same routine right up to the end. He did not allow the heavy weight of age to take anything away f rom the struggles of his youth. They say that his tirelessness in prayer exceede d that of any other human being of that time. He would pray far into the night; he never could have enough of it but was always eagerly desiring more. Even when

engaging with those who came to see him he was not able to force himself to dra g his thoughts away fully from the things of heaven, but as soon they had gone, he would renew his prayer as if there was hardly anything which separated him fr om the God of all. When old age would not longer allow him to stand continuously without doing himself an injury he used a staff for support. He would lean on i t, praying and praising God. Although above all he had a deep love of hospitalit y, he would ask many of those who came to see him to wait until evening. Many fe ared that they might have to wait there all night and made a pretext that they h ad other business to attend to and excused themselves from sharing in his labour of prayer. The great Maro was one of his admirers, and he always suggested to those who cam e to see him that they should go to Zebinas for a blessing. He called him his fa ther and teacher, and an example of every virtue. He wanted them to be buried in the same tomb, but those who snatched away his body and buried him in the place which I have described prevented that [see Chapter XVI]. He died before the div ine Zebinas in a neighbouring village called Cirtica, but Zebinas accepted what happened to his body and built a great shrine over his tomb, which brought many healings of different kinds to those who visited it in faith. So now all the mar tyrs who strove against the Persians are together under the same roof, and are h onoured with great celebrations every year. The great Polychronius sat at the feet of Zebinas. Even the most divine Jacobus said that he had been given a hair shirt by Zebinas. I never saw him myself, for he died before I was born, but in the marvellous way that Polychronius lived I could see that Zebinas lived again, not that he was like a wax tablet taking the impression and character of whatever shape the writer makes upon it, but I pass on what I saw myself and what was said about him by those who were with him. Fo r he was consumed by the same desire for God, rising far above earthly things. H is mind was untrammelled by his body, carried upwards through the air and the ae ther, higher than the heavens. He was perpetually caught up in the contemplation of God, and it was impossible for him to drag his mind away from that. Even whe n talking with those who came to see him, his mind was fixed on things above. He stood keeping vigil all night through, and this is how I learnt about it. For when I saw that he was suffering from old age and bodily weakness, and taking n o care of his body, I began more and more to urge him to agree to take two compa nions to live with him and look after him. And he did ask for two men of obvious virtue to come from another monastery. And I persuaded these admirable men to p ut the care of the divine man before everything else. They had not lived with hi m for very long before they wanted to leave, because they could not cope with st aying up all night. I remonstrated with the divine man that he should temper his labours to the weakness of his body. "I did not compel them," he replied, "to stand resolutely with me all night, but I repeatedly urged them to go to bed. But they asked how could they possibly go to bed, being in good health and the prime of life as they were, when they saw someone else despising his bodily weakness adopting such a laborious stance." Thus I learnt about the nocturnal labours of that venerable chief among men. And in due course those companions also developed so greatly in virtue that they to o adopted the same way of life as the great man. And Moses, too (that was the name of one of them) remains to this present day, l oyal to Polychronius his father and teacher, giving clear and perfect expression to the virtues which shone forth from that sacred soul. Damianus (the name of the other one) went to a village not far away called Niara and found a little dwelling where he lives now, carrying on with the same sort of life. Those who have known them both say that as they look at Damianus it is like looking at the blessed Polychronius clothed in another body. They both had the same simplicity, gentleness and self-control, the same placid way of talking , the same sweetness in conversation, the same vigilance of spirit and knowledge of God, the same ordering of work and vigils and food, and the same divine law of poverty and owning nothing. Apart from one bowl containing lentils steeped in water there was nothing else inside his dwelling. He owed such a great debt to the customs of the great Polychronius.

However, let me leave the disciple and return to the teacher; it is from the sou rce that the flowing streams arise. Along with the other vices he cast out from his soul the desire for admiration, and trod underfoot the tyranny of empty fame by trying to conceal the full extent of his labours. So he rejected the idea of wearing iron weights lest he incur some spiritual damage if it led to his soul becoming inflamed by arrogance. But he asked for a heavy oak tree root to be bro ught to him as if he wanted it for some other purpose, and then placed it on his shoulders at night time when he prayed. If anyone came and knocked on his door he hid it. Someone who saw this told me about it and in trying to see how heavy it was I found that I could scarcely lift it up with both hands. He caught me do ing so and told me to put it down, but I asked him to let me take it away, hopin g to lighten his load. But when I saw that he carried it quite easily I yielded to his desire for the victory. Grace divine flowed from his labours, and many miracles from his prayers. When a grievous drought was afflicting the human race and calling forth many prayers, a number of priests came to see him. Among them was one who was in charge of the food supply for all the villages of the Antiochene region. He asked the seniors present to persuade Polychronius to lay hands on the vessel he used for oil. Th ey replied that he would not do that, but he kept on asking and begged Polychron ius himself, who at last did spread out his hands over the oil vessel. It immedi ately began to overflow with oil, so that two or three others of those present h eld out their hands, and their vessels were filled likewise. But although he radiated divine grace, and was full of wonderful acts of kindnes s, and deeds done with power, daily scattering about him the fruits of his searc h for wisdom, he still remained modest and discreet. He embraced the feet of eac h one who came to him, bowing his forehead down to the ground, whether they were solders, workmen or farmers. I will tell you something else to illustrate his simplicity and discretion. When a certain good man belonging to the prefect class came to Cyrus he asked me to show him some of these great athletes. I took him to several people and then to Polychronius. I told him that the man with me was a prefect, and one who loved j ustice and fairness, whereupon the divine man stretched out his hands and embrac ed both his feet. "Will you grant me a petition I would like to make to you?" he asked Chapter XXIV, Zebinas and Polychronius (continued), Book IX The prefect was embarrassed and begged him to get up, at the same time promising to agree to his request, thinking that he probably wanted to ask a favour for s omeone over whom he had jurisdiction. "Since you have made a promise," said the divine man, "and confirmed it with an oath, please offer fervent and vigorous prayer to God for me." The prefect beat his forehead and begged to be released from his oath, as somebo dy who was not worthy to offer prayers for him to God. How can any amount of tal king praise him enough to do justice to his wisdom and modesty and discretion? Various different illnesses might attack him but had no effect on his zeal for t he labours he undertook. His routine was exactly the same however many illnesses he suffered. It was only after a long argument with him soon after building his little dwelling that we succeeded in introducing a little heating into it, for his body was freezing cold. Many people offered him money, or left it behind wit h him as they went out, but he refused always to accept any of it. Instead he a sked them to share it out to others. Later, the great Jacobus gave him a cloak w hich someone had given him, but he sent it back, saying it was too thick and ele gant. He always wore the plainest and cheapest clothing. He rated so highly the poverty in which to seek the kingdom of heaven that often he did not even have e nough food. I know I have often been there to seek his blessing and found that a ll he had was two figs. The honey of his words was highly sought after by those who came to see him, and was highly pleasant and full of joy for those who heard . I have never known anyone except the shallow and sarcastic who have ever been

able to find fault with him. Everyone praises him and celebrates him, and when t hey come to see him are always reluctant to leave. Chapter XXV ASCLEPIUS AND JACOBUS, HERMITS Asclepius was of this same category, and emulated his style of life ten miles aw ay. He had similar food and clothing and habits of self-control, charity towards brothers and guests, gentleness and kindness, and conversation with God, extrem e poverty and an abundance of virtues, the fruits of his search for wisdom, and all the other things which I have told you concerning Polychronius, that chief o f men. They say that when he was numbered among the brothers living in community he embraced the monastic, ordered life, and never did anything wrong in spite o f being in the midst of such a crowd of people. So then, he conducted himself so well in both lives, that is, the community life and the solitary life, that he is worthy of a double crown. Later, many others followed his path of virtue. Not just our own state but neigh bouring states and countries too are full of such seekers after wisdom. The divi ne Jacobus is one of them, enclosed in a little dwelling just outside a village called Duzan. Even towards the end of his life (he is ninety years old), he stil l lives alone within his ditch and rampart, shaped in a curve. He gives answers to people but will not allow himself to be seen, except that twice he has told m e to break through the wall and come in, which was a great honour for me, to hav e him show me such good will. People who are still living at this time do not need my writings; they can go an d witness his search for wisdom for themselves if they want to. But what I have written should be sufficient for those who come after and who did not actually s ee him to be able to grasp the nature of his way of life. So I leave him now, an d say no more, but asking the blessing of his prayers, go on to talk about someo ne else. Chapter XXVI SIMEON STYLITES (who lived on a column for nearly forty years. There is another account of his l ife in Book I) Every subject of the Roman Empire knows of the famous Simeon, the great wonder o f the world. The Persians know of him as well, as do the Indians and Ethiopians; in fact his fame has spread even as far as the Nomads of Scythia, where they ha ve learnt about his diligence and way of life. Let me say at once that if I did not have so many witnesses, I would hesitate to describe his battles, which are greater than it is possible to tell, lest posterity should hold them as mere fab les destitute of all truth. For they are greater than you would think possible f or human nature, and human beings, of course, are apt to judge of what they hear according to the limits of human nature. And if what they hear exceeds those li mits, those who are not partakers of the divine mysteries judge it to be false. But the earth and sea are full of godly members of the true religion, well instr ucted in divine matters, who are aware of the grace of the holy Spirit and are s o far from disbelieving what I am about to narrate that their faith will become even greater, and they will readily accept my tale with keen interest. It is on that basis that I will begin by describing how he was worthy of a vocation from above. He was born in a village called Sefa on the border between our country and Cilic ia, where his parents taught him to keep sheep. In this respect he was in the go od company of the patriarch Jacob, the disciplined Joseph, the legislator Moses, the king and prophet David, and all those other divine men like them. Once when it had been snowing heavily the sheep had to be kept inside, and in this period of rest from active shepherding he went to church with his parents. His own hol y tongue told me this next bit. For he said that he heard the voice of the gospe l saying 'blessed are they who weep and mourn, wretched are they who mock, bless

ed are the pure in heart', and the rest of this passage. (Matthew 5.4ff). He ask ed one of those present what one should do to follow all these things, and was t old about the solitary life and its high way of searching for wisdom. He said that after receiving these seeds of the divine word, fruitfully planted in the deepest furrow of his heart, he went to a nearby shrine of the holy marty rs, bent his knees and touched the ground with his forehead, and prayed to him w ho 'wills all people to be saved' (1 Timothy 2.4), begging that he might be led into the perfect way of godliness and true religion. Not long after this he was sleeping peacefully when he had a dream. "I seemed to be digging foundations," he said, "and I heard someone standing nea rby telling me that I must dig much deeper. When I had dug deeper as he asked, I tried to have a rest, but he told me to keep on digging and not to cease from m y labour. This happened three or four times, until at last he told me I was deep enough. He then told me to build but use no labour, for the labour had ceased, and the future building would appear without labour." Future events proved this prediction to be true, for what happened was beyond th e power of human nature. When he awoke he went to a nearby house of monks. He stayed there for two years, seized by a deep desire to become perfect in virtue, then went to the village o f Teleda, which we have already mentioned (see Chapter IV), where the great and divine men Ammianus and Eusebius had built their monastic dwelling. But he did n ot join them; he went instead to another house which was an offshoot, a training ground in the search for wisdom built by Eusebonas and Abiton after they had be en sufficiently instructed by Eusebius. These two spent their whole life in harm ony with each other in mind and deed. They were like one soul in two bodies, and had many others with them who were gripped by a love for this kind of life. After they had departed this life, Heliodorus was in charge. He was greatly admi red by his companions. At the age of sixty-five he had lived an enclosed life fo r sixty-two years, for his parents had looked after him for only three years bef ore he entered this community, so that he had never set eyes on many things in t his world. He used to say that he did not know what pigs looked like, or cockere ls or other such animals. I often saw him, and I admired his simplicity of life and likewise valued his marvellous purity of soul. That outstanding athlete of godliness, Simeon, fought the battle among them for ten years. There were eighty of them, but he overshadowed them all. Whereas the others ate every second day, he fasted for the whole week, which those superior to him by no means approved of. They argued with him, saying that he was upsetti ng the regular order of things, though nothing that they said made him change hi s mind, or succeeded in putting checks upon his spiritual zeal. The present superior of this community told me that Simeon once made a rope out of palm leaves, which are the most sharp and prickly things, and wound it round his loins, not outwardly but next to his skin, and pulled it so tight that where ver it touched him he became quite ulcerous. After wearing it for ten days the u lcers began to bleed, and someone who noticed this asked him why he was bleeding . He said it was nothing, but his companion forcefully put his hand inside his c lothing and discovered the reason. He reported it to the superior, who scolded h im and entreated him and emphasised the cruelty of it, and managed to persuade h im to desist only with great difficulty. Later on, when it was discovered that h e was doing other things of this sort he was expelled from the monastery, lest o thers who did not have such bodily endurance should try to emulate him, to their great detriment. He went to a more solitary place on the mountain where he found a very deep gull y, without any water supply, into which he lowered himself down and began to off er to God his hymns of praise. Meanwhile the seniors in the monastery began to s uffer a few pangs of conscience, and they sent two of the brothers out to find h im and bring him back. They wandered over the mountain telling the shepherds wha t he looked like and how he was dressed and asking them if they had seen him. Th e shepherds pointed out the gully, and when they saw it they cried out in astoni shment, and they had to get a rope in order to draw him out after a great deal o f trouble, as it was a place much easier to get into than to get out of.

He stayed with them for a while longer before going to the village of Tellanessu s, near Antioch, where he took possession of the mountaintop where he now lives. He found a little dwelling there in which he spent three years completely enclo sed. And then in an attempt to augment his store of virtue, he decided to fast comple tely for forty days like those divine men Moses and Elijah. He tried to persuade the admirable Bassus, who administered many communities in his capacity of lead er among the ranks of the priesthood, to block up with clay the entrance to his dwelling, leaving nothing behind inside. Bassus objected that a self-inflicted d eath should by no means be accounted a virtue, but rather was a crime first and foremost. "All right, father," said Simeon, "leave me ten loaves, and a jar of water, and if I see that my body is in need of some nourishment I will take some of it." It was done as he asked. The food was brought in, and the entrance was blocked u p with clay. At the end of the forty days, that admirable man of God, Bassus, ca me and removed the clay, went inside, and found the same number of loaves as bef ore, the jar still full of water, and Simeon himself lying down, scarcely breath ing, unable to speak or move. He found a sponge and moistened and washed his mou th with it, after which he brought him the elements of the divine Sacrament. St rengthened by this, he revived, and took a little food, some lettuce and watercr ess, which he ate a little at a time, and managed to swallow. The great Bassus was astonished, and came back to tell his own flock of this gre at miracle. He had more than two hundred companions, who were allowed to possess neither a beast of burden nor a mill. They were not allowed to accept gold from anyone, not go out at all to buy what was necessary, but stayed in, content wit h what food was given them by divine grace. They maintain that rule to this day, and however much they may increase in numbers, they do not transgress against t he rule they have been given. But let me return to the great Simeon. From that time right up to the present day, that is, for twenty-eight years, he has practised fasting for forty days. For the first few days he would stand to p raise God, but by keeping at it and as the time went by he had to modify that la bour. Weakness of body would not permit him to keep standing. Then he would have to sit to say the divine office, and in the last few days he would lie down. An d as little by little his natural forces got weaker and weaker, he had no option but to lie there half dead. But after he went up onto his column he never once thought of coming down and devised a means of remaining there standing. For he s et up a large beam of timber on top of his column and fastened himself to it wit h ropes, and spent the whole forty days like that. From that time onwards his su periors tolerated what he was doing and accepted that he did not need any help. He stood for the whole forty days, taking no food, but with the liveliness of hi s soul strengthened by divine grace. As we have said, he spent three years in that little dwelling before coming to t he top of that mountain which has since been so famously celebrated. He caused a fence to be built around the place, and took a chain of twenty cubits length, o ne end of which he fixed to a large stone, and the other to his ankle, so that e ven if he wanted to, it was impossible for him to go beyond the limit he had set . There he stayed, seeking the vision of heaven, drawing strength from the conte mplation of those things which are above the heavens, the flight of his mind in no way impeded by his chains of iron. But later that admirable man Meletius was given the episcopal care of the city o f Antioch and the region roundabout, a judicious man, famous for his prudence an d adorned with unusual brilliance. He declared that Simeon's chain was superfluo us, for it was quite enough that the mind should impose upon the body the limita tion imposed by the chain. So in obedience to the bishop he agreed to cease usin g the chain. A smith was called and instructed to remove it. Now there was a pie ce of leather next to his shinbone sewn together round the chain for bodily prot ection, and when of necessity that was cut apart, they say that they found twent y great insects hiding in its folds. Meletius himself attested that that was wha t he saw. I have mentioned this to demonstrate what great fortitude this man had , for he could easily have turned back the leather and destroyed the insects. Bu

t he preferred to put up with their fierce bites, and aspire to higher things by enduring the small things. His fame spread through all the region roundabout, and people came from near and far, some bringing with them people with paralysis, some seeking healing of the ir own illnesses, others asking to become patres [monks?], for what naturally th ey found hard to accept they willingly accepted from him. When all these people had obtained what they had asked for they went away rejoicing, telling every one about the benefits they had received, and sending back many more to seek for th e same sort of things. All these people coming from everywhere were like rivers flowing down every road, and they gathered together in that place like a human o cean filling up with streams from all directions. There was a flood of people no t only locally but there were Ishmaelites, and Persians and Armenians and Iberes , and Homerites, and others from further away still. Many came even from the far West, Spaniards and Britons, and Gauls. It is hardly necessary to add that they came also from Italy; they say that at Rome, by far the greatest city, he was s o eulogised in sermons that people placed little images of him in all their porc hes and doorways, to make themselves safe through his protection. People without number kept on coming to him, trying to touch him in order to rec eive a blessing from his clothing of skins. At first he just thought it was ridi culous and unnecessary for such high honour to be paid to him, but eventually he found that he could hardly bear all the extra vexation it caused. So he organis ed that column to stand on, at first ordering it to be of six cubits, then twelv e, and later twenty, and finally thirty-six which is what it is today. It was pa rt of his desire to fly away into the heavens and free himself from things of th e earth. I don't believe that the building of this column is contrary to the divine plan, and I urge those who delight in pouring scorn on it to hold their tongue and no t let it wag so thoughtlessly. They should rather remember that the Lord has arr anged many things like that for the benefit of the slothful. He ordered Isaiah t o walk naked and barefoot (Isaiah 20.2), Jeremiah to put a girdle about his loin s as a prophetic act for the benefit of the unbelieving (Jeremiah 13.1), and lat er to put yokes of wood and steel on his neck (Jeremiah 27.2). He ordered Hosea to take back his fornicating wife and show his love for that fornicating and adu lterous woman (Hosea 1.2), and Ezekiel to lie on his right side for forty days, and then on his left side for a hundred and fifty days (Ezekiel 4.5-6), to dig t hrough the walls (Ibid. 12.7), to go forth as of one going into captivity (Ibid. 12.4), and even to take a sharp blade to shave his head, and divide his hair int o four parts, giving some to these people and some to those, so that no one woul d be able to count them completely (Ibid. 5.1). The Ruler of the universe ordere d all these things to be done in order to bring to their senses those who did n ot obey his word or listen to the prophets, convincing them by these extraordina ry spectacles, and making them pay heed to the oracles of God. Who would not be utterly astonished at the sight of the divine man going naked? Who would not won der why he was doing that? Who would not want to know how a prophet could allow a fornicating woman to live with him? But the God of all ordered each one of these things to be done because of his gr eat concern for those who were living disgracefully and slothfully. And so he pr ovided this wonderful new spectacle [of Simeon on his column], drawing everybody to come and see it for its sheer novelty and wonder, making sure that those who came would get a lesson they could believe in. The novelty of the spectacle was in itself a pledge of true teaching, and anyone who came to see it went away ha ving learnt something of the nature of God. For just as human kings from time to time change the images on their coins, putting a lion on some, stars on another , Angels on another, making the gold more valuable because of the image stamped upon it, so does the high King of the universe add to the godliness of the true religion many new ways of living, as if imprinting pictures and seals, not just for the sake of those who are of the household of the faith, but to encourage th e tongues of all those who suffer under the disease of unbelief to turn towards the praise of God. It was not just words that persuaded them of this, but the sight of the column i

tself, which itself spoke volumes. This simple fact of a man standing on a colum n enlightened countless thousands of Ishmaelites who had been slaves to a blind ungodliness. For just like a very bright candle placed on a lamp stand, he shed his rays all about like the sun, and, as I have said, he saw the Iberes, the Per sians and the Armenians all coming to receive divine Baptism. The Ishmaelites al so came in crowds, two or three hundred at a time, sometimes even a thousand, sh outing their rejection of the errors of their forefathers. In the face of that g reat source of light they utterly did away with the idols they used to worship, and denounced the orgies of Venus, for they accepted that this was the worship o f demons, as Simeon repeated from on high time after time. They received the div ine Sacraments, and accepted the rules which that divine tongue laid down. They gave their assent to the rites of the fathers, and renounced the barbaric cult o f asses and camels. I saw and heard all this myself, as they condemned the ungod liness of their native land and accepted the teaching of the gospels. I once got into a very dangerous situation, for Simeon suggested to them that th ey should come to me for a priestly blessing, from which he said they would rece ive a great benefit. When this great mass of barbarians came rushing towards me a little later, some of them dragged me forwards, some backwards, some sideways. Those on the outskirts of the crowd pushed in, stretching out their hands to to uch my beard or seize my garments, so that truly I would have been suffocated by the way they crowded around so violently, if Simeon had not shouted out for the m all to move away. Such was the kind of power, ridiculed by the spiteful, which flowed from that column, as Simeon radiated the light of the knowledge of God i nto the minds of the barbarians. There is another thing which I saw happening like this: one tribe of people pres ent begged him to say a prayer and give a blessing to their leader, but the peop le of another tribe which was there objected, saying that he ought not to bless the leader of that tribe but give a blessing to the leader of their own tribe, f or the other leader was a tyrant, whereas their own was absolutely just. The arg ument was so great and barbarous that they eventually began to attack each other . I stepped in with a prolonged appeal, and tried to persuade them to desist, on the grounds that the divine man was perfectly able to give a blessing to both o f them. But some still continued to complain that the others should not be inclu ded, and the others still tried to prevent a blessing being given to their oppon ents. It was not until Simeon scolded them from above, likening them to baying d ogs, that the quarrel subsided. I tell you this to show how deeply their belief had taken hold of their minds, for they would not have quarrelled among themselv es if they had not believed in the great power of his blessing. I saw another greatly celebrated miracle. The leader of one of the Saracen tribe s came to ask help for one of his company whose limbs had been stricken with par alysis when they were in the great fortress of Callinicus in the course of their journey. The paralysed man was brought forward, Simeon asked him if he would re nounce the ungodliness of his people, he freely consented and did what he was as ked, Simeon asked him if he believed in the Father, the only-begotten Son and ho ly Spirit, and he replied that he did. "By your belief in these names," said Simeon, "arise!" He got up, and immediately offered to carry the leader of his tribe back to his tent on his own shoulders. The leader agreed, and they departed. All those prese nt lifted up their voices in praise to God. It was in imitation of the Lord who ordered the paralysed man to pick up his bed that he did this (Matthew 9.6). Let no one call this action some sort of arbitrary power. For his own voice tells u s, 'whosoever believes in me shall do the same works as I do, and even greater' (John 14.12). And we have seen the fulfilment of this promise. For whereas there were no miracles done by the Lord's shadow, yet the mere shadow of the great Pe ter broke the power of death, healed the sick and drove out demons (Acts 5.15). The Lord did miracles through his disciples, and now likewise the divine Simeon did many miracles by the use of the divine name.

Chapter XXVI, Simeon Stylites (continued), Book IX (Baradatus, Thalalaeus, Marana & Cyra also on this page) There was another miracle that he did, hardly less wonderful than the other. Amo ng those who had come to believe in the saving name of the Lord Christ was an Is hmaelite from a quite well known place who made a vow to God, with the divine ma n as witness, that he would abstain from that time onwards from eating the flesh of any living creature. Somehow or other there came an occasion when he transgr essed against his promise, and attempted to eat something that had been killed. But God wished to rebuke him and make him change his mind, in honour of his serv ant who had been a witness of the promise which had now been transgressed, so he turned the flesh of the chicken to stone. Even if he had wanted to, he was no l onger able to eat it. How could he indeed, when the flesh which he wanted to eat had been turned to stone? This barbarian was stupefied by this amazing and unbe lievable sight, and went to the holy man as quickly as possible, bringing his hi dden sin into the light of day, confessing his transgression in the hearing of a ll, and seeking pardon of God for his offence, and the assistance of the holy ma n that by his all-powerful prayers he might loose him from the chains of his sin . There were many who witnessed this miracle, for they saw about his person some of the chicken bone turned into stone. I not only witnessed miracles, I also heard him predicting the future. Two years before it happened he predicted a drought and consequent harvest failure, toget her with the famine and pestilence that went with it. He said he had seen a grea t rod lifted up against the human race, with whips attached to punish them. At a nother time he said there would be a plague of locusts, but that they would not cause a great deal of harm as the divine mercy would be poured out in response t o prayer. Thirty days later a numberless multitude of them descended on us, such as to block out the rays of the sun and overshadow us all. We all saw this plai nly and clearly. But only the animals' pasture suffered any loss; human food too k no harm whatsoever. And also when I was in a dispute with somebody he told me that the dispute would come to an end fifteen days before experience proved the truth of his predictio n. He also saw two rods coming down from the heavens, one falling in the East and t he other in the West. The divine man interpreted these as incursions against Rom an rule by the Persians and the Scythians, and he explained the vision to those who were present with him, and with many tears and earnest prayers he turned asi de those blows which were threatening the world. For the Persians were already a rmed and ready to attack the Romans, when with the will of God against them they were hindered right from the beginning, torn apart by their own internal argume nts. I know of a whole lot more incidents like this, but I pass over them to avo id being accused of prolixity. What I have told you is sufficient to establish t he spiritual vision his mind was capable of. He was so highly thought of by the king of Persia, that he sent envoys to Simeon , wanting to know about his life and miracles. It is also said that the queen of Persia asked that he might bless some oil for her, which she accepted as a very valuable gift. All the king's court attendants were very excited when they hear d about this, in spite of hearing calumnies about him from the learned magicians . They asked innumerable questions about him, and having learnt as much as they could, made the name of that divine man even more widely known. Crowds of other people approached the muleteers, the servants and the soldiers, offering money t o be given a share in the blessed oil. The queen of the Ishmaelites was sterile but longed for children. She sent someo ne of dignity an authority to him to ask that she might become a mother. He made his petition, she gave birth as she had desired, and the king took the child an d brought him to the divine old man (for women were not allowed to approach him) , and asked if this had happened because of his blessing.

"No, it was your act that did it," said Simeon. "I simply poured out with tears the seed of prayer. It was your seed that resulted in the harvest when you drew down the shower of divine grace through prayer." But why should I attempt to measure the depth of the Atlantic ocean? Human being s cannot measure it, just as the deeds he did daily defy the telling of them. He stood night and day in full view of all. He had no doors, he could be approache d from all directions, providing a novel and wonderful sight for everybody, now standing for a long time, now bending frequently to offer adoration to God. Many of those present counted his adorations; somebody who was with me once counted up to twelve hundred and fifty-four before he made a mistake and lost count. As a result of so much bending he was able to move his forehead very close to his t oes. For since his stomach took food only once a week, and that only a small amo unt, about as much as sharing in the divine Sacraments, it meant that his back c ould bend very easily. They say that as a result of standing on one leg he devel oped an ulcer which exuded matter, but nothing that happened to him impeded his way of life. He endured with a brave and generous heart both voluntary and invol untary sufferings, triumphing over them all by the devotion of his soul. On one occasion he was compelled to show this ulcer to somebody. What happened w as this: a good man, highly thought of in the ministry of Christ visited him fro m Arabena . "Tell me the truth," he said, "what sort of a man is it who changes his life as you have done. Are you really human, or are you an incorporeal spirit?" The bystanders were annoyed at his interrogation and told him to hold his tongue , but Simeon answered him. "Why are you interrogating me like this?" he asked. "Because I hear it commonly said that you neither eat nor sleep, but both are ne cessary for human beings. No one clothed in human nature can live without food a nd sleep." "Get a ladder and come up here," said Simeon. And as soon as his hand appeared over the top of the ladder he lifted the hem of his long robe and guided the hand to his feet, where the man saw not only Simeo n's feet but also that grievous ulcer. He was amazed at the size of it. Simeon a lso told him how he was nourished, and when the man came back down the ladder he came to me and told me all about it. On public feast days he demonstrated another example of his powers of endurance. From the setting of the sun till the time when it once more approached the west ern horizon he stood with his hands raised in prayer, sleepless, bearing the lab our of it without difficulty. In all his labours, notwithstanding the magnitude of all the deeds he performed, he was gifted with a modesty and self-control whi ch made him the most dignified of all human beings. To go with his modesty, he m ade it easy for people to approach him, for he was pleasantly friendly, and gave equal attention to all who spoke to him, whether they were workmen, beggars or agricultural workers. He was given the gift of teaching by a generous and bounti ful God. Twice daily he gave little homilies, pouring the water of life into the ears of his audience. He spoke quite beautifully, showing the discipline of a d ivine spirit, urging them to look upwards and open their wings, leaving the worl d far behind, to seek for the vision of the expected kingdom, to stand in fear o f the punishment of hell, to despise the things of the earth and to look for the world to come. He could also be seen acting as a judge, whose verdicts were alw ays right and proper. It was always after the ninth hour that he did things of that nature. The whole night, and the day up to the ninth hour he gave to perpetual prayer. First of al l at the ninth hour he would preach to those present, then he would listen to in dividual requests, curing some, giving judgments to others among whom there was some dispute. At sunset he would begin to turn towards the Lord. But along with all these things he did not fail in care and forethought for the holy churches, now confronting the ungodliness of the pagans, now confuting the impudence of th e Jews, now vanquishing and putting to flight the hordes of heretics, and, what is more, writing letters to the Emperor about them. He would write also to commu nity leaders and magistrates, inciting them to zeal for the Lord, and sometimes

to the chief pastors of the churches, urging them to take greater care for their flock. By describing to you these few raindrops I hope to have given readers some idea of a life-giving shower of rain, or what it is like to taste the sweetest honey. But there are a great deal more things than these to be sung about and celebrat ed. However, I did not promise to write down everything, but just a few things i n his life to show his style and character. Let others write much more about him as they will. [It is thought that Simeon's Life from here to the end has been added by someone other than Theodoretus after the death of Simeon.] He lived for a long time after this, with many miracles and labours, in the heat of the sun, in the ice of winter, buffeted by the gales, in the weakness of his human nature, remaining alone invincible out of all who ever were, until at las t it behoved him to be with Christ and receive the crown for his immense labours , confirming to unbelievers by his death that he was but human. Even after death he remained immoveable, for although his soul had gone to heaven his body was n ot allowed to fall, but stayed upright on his battlefield, an unconquered athlet e, none of his members willing to touch the earth, proclaiming the victory of th e athlete of Christ even in his death. His cures of various diseases, his miracles, the power of his holy work are all just as much celebrated now in various holy reliquaries, as they were at the tim e, but above all now in that monument to his high virtue and daily strife, that great and celebrated column, proclaiming, I say, Simeon's righteousness and prai se. I hope that I may share in his holy intercessions, that I may persevere in holy labours, and I pray to God who provides for us all, the God who is the splendour of devotion and true religion, to govern my life, and shape me into the mould o f the gospel. Chapter XXVII BARADATUS The common enemy of human beings has many paths of vice through which he strives to lead to perdition the whole human race, whereas the followers of the true re ligion think up many different ladders whereby they may ascend to heaven. Some s trive together in communities, of which there is a countless number, to enjoy th e crown incorruptible by ascending to heaven together. Others choose the monasti c [i.e solitary] life aiming to speak with God alone and enjoying no human conso lation. Their victories are publicly renowned. Some of these praise God living i n tents, some in huts, some choose life in caves and caverns. But there are many others among those we have mentioned who have decided not to use either cavern, tent, cave or hut, but to commit their bodies to the open air, enduring all con ditions, the most rock-hard ice equally with the burning rays of the sun. Among them again there are various modes of living. Some always stand, some divide the ir time between standing and sitting, some shut themselves in behind fences, fle eing from human company, others use none of these devices, but are available for all who want to see them. It is as one of this latter sort that I now need to d escribe the life of the admirable Baradatus, for he found quite different ways o f showing endurance. At first he enclosed himself for quite a long time in a little dwelling, enjoyin g solitary contemplation. From there he went to a cliff face, where he built for himself a small box-like structure, which was in no way conformed to the dimens ions of a human body, but in which he had to live bent double, for neither its d epth nor its length was of a convenient size. Nor was it of a single wooden surf ace, but constructed more like the latticework of an open window letting in the light. So he was not protected from the force of the rain nor was there any shad e from the heat of the sun, both of which had as free entry there as to anywhere else under the sun. But he was concerned with overcoming only in those matters concerned with the work of being enclosed. Having spent a long time like this he at last came out in response to the entrea

ties of Theodoret, the bishop of Antioch. But he still stood diligently lifting up his hands in praise to the God of all, his whole body hidden beneath a tunic of skins. Only around his nose and mouth was there an opening left for the entry of the spirit as he breathed, using the air common to all, without which human nature is not able to survive. He endured all this work in a body which was not very robust, but liable to ill health because of various ailments. But he was fe rvent and eager of spirit, he burned with the love of God, compelling him to lab our even though he should not really have been capable of labouring. He was gifted with wisdom and intelligence, seeking always the best things and r esponding to them. The force of his reasoning ability was often better and more compelling than those who read the labyrinthine books of Aristotle. Although he reached a high level of competence in this ability, he did not let his spirit be carried away by arrogance, which he simply ordered to creep away downwards arou nd the side of the mountain. So his mind did not take a great deal of harm from any kind of bursting burning insolence. And that sums up his character. It was given to him to travel in his pilgrimage to the very furthest limits, tha t is, to the glory of those who have obtained the victory, a cause of joy to all the faithful. May it be granted to me, that supported by their prayers, I may b e found not far from that high peak, where ascending little by little I may find fulfilment in the joy of the contemplation which is theirs. Chapter XXVIII THALELAEUS I will not keep silent about Thalelaeus, who offers us the sight of many miracle s. I not only heard about him from others, but saw him myself, an undeniably mar vellous sight. He built his little hut on a mound about twenty miles from Gabala , a small but very elegant city. There was a temple on this mound dedicated to d emons, to whom were offered many sacrifices by the ungodly of old times, it is s aid, as they sought to propitiate by their worship the cruelty of those wretched and accursed spirits. They caused a great deal of harm to many people, not only those who lived there but to neighbouring people as well. and not only to human beings, but to asses and mules and oxen and sheep, not that they waged war agai nst animals but that they used them to prepare traps for human beings. When they saw him coming they tried very hard to frighten him, but had no succes s because he was fortified against them by faith and carried the war to them by grace. Filled with rage and madness, they attacked some trees which were planted there, for the mound had a number of flourishing figs and olives. They say that more than fifty of them were suddenly torn up. I heard this from several farmer s nearby, who had formerly been bound under the yoke of ungodliness, but had now received the light of the knowledge of God through the teaching and miracles of Thalelaeus. When the pernicious and wretched demons failed to terrify this athl ete seeking for wisdom, they prepared some other tricks against him. At night th ey would howl and flash lights in an effort to terrify him and send him mad. But he laughed at all their insults, until at last they were forced to leave him al one and flee. He constructed two separate wheels of two cubits diameter, without spokes, and t hen using wedges and nails joined them together with boards in such a way as to form a barrel. He took three large beams to form a tripod which he fixed in the ground in the open air, and suspended the barrel in it by a rope tied round the boards. The space which he had inside was of two cubits high and one cubit depth . Sitting in it, or rather suspended in it, he spent ten years without a break., Since he had a very large body, when sitting down he could not keep his neck er ect, but always sat in a curved position, with his knees against his face. When I visited him I found him drawing inspiration from reading the Gospels. I a sked him a few questions, wanting to know why he had started to live in this way . He spoke in Greek, for he came from Cilix. "Liable to sin in many ways as I am," he said, "and believing in the threatened punishments which hang over me, I thought out this way of life so that by punish ing my body with some fairly hard penalties I might escape from the enormous siz

e of the punishment to come. These punishments are involuntary, more severe not only in quantity but in quality. Punishments of the involuntary sort are very bi tter. But voluntary punishments, even if very laborious, are much less grievous, because they are undertaken of one's own free will; they are not a labour which has been violently forced upon one. And if by means of these small penances I c an diminish the punishment I deserve it is a great gain for me." I could not but admire the ingenuity of what he told me. He had not only broken out of the fenced enclosure which he had already made, but had thought up differ ent ways of waging war. It was not just that he battled in this particular way, but that he understood the reasons for it and was able to teach others about it. His followers say that many miracles were performed through his prayers. He care d not only for humans but also for camels, asses and mules. A whole community of people who had formerly been imprisoned in ungodliness were thus enabled to ren ounce the errors of their forefathers and accept the splendour of the divine lig ht. With their help he destroyed the temple of the demons and built a great shri ne to the victory of the glorious martyrs, proclaiming that those gods who were falsely called gods were dead. May it be granted through their prayers that when battle is consummated in victo ry, we may be aided by both Thalelaeus and the martyrs to embrace more diligentl y the struggle of the search for wisdom. Chapter XXIX MARANA AND CYRA Having written about the lives of the best and most outstanding men, I think I s hould mention the valuable work of women who have striven no less valiantly, if not more so. They are indeed more worthy of being praised, for in spite of being physically weaker, they display the same diligence of spirit as the men in libe rating the human race from the disgrace which was inflicted on our first parent. I will now write about Marana and Cyra, who surpassed all the others in endurin g the strife. They were born of a prominent family in Berhoea, and educated in a manner befitt ing their status. But despising all that, they occupied a narrow gully outside t he city, and once inside blocked up the entrance with stones and clay. They wish ed their servants also to share in this kind of life, so they built a separate d welling outside their enclosure for them to live in. The two women had a small w indow through which they could see what the others were doing, and they regularl y urged them to prayer and to rise up to the love of God. They themselves had no house or even a hut, but of their own free will lived in the open air. There wa s a small hatch in their doorway through which they received such food as was ne cessary, and through which they conversed with any women who came to see them. T he season of Pentecost was assigned to these conversations, at other times they preserved silence. It was only Marana who spoke to visitors, Cyra never heard an y human voices at all. They wore iron about their persons, which was so heavy th at Cyra, who was the weaker physically, was bent down under its weight, to the e xtent that she could barely stand upright. They wore long veils which trailed be hind them, entirely covering their feet, and were tied down to their girdles in front to cover their faces, necks, breasts and hands. I often was allowed in through their door to visit them. They ordered their door to be opened to me in deference to the dignity of the priesthood. I saw that th e weight of iron they carried was more than many a brave and strong man would be able to carry. By making a forceful request I was able to see them removed, but after I had gone they put them back on again, a collar around the neck, chains around their loins, hands and feet also similarly weighed down. They lived like this not just for ten or even twenty years, but for forty-two. In their striving over such a long period they always felt as if they were just beginning their b attle, and they found joy in their labours. They had grasped hold of the beauty of their bridegroom, which made all their labour easy, and urged them on to the goal of their struggle, for they found their delight in it, and earned the crown of victory. The forces of rain and snow and the heat of the sun caused them nei

ther sorrow nor suffering, but they rejoiced in spirit because of these seeming hindrances. And they emulated Moses in his fasting. Three times a year they went without food for forty days except for a very small amount. Three times a year they emulated the way Daniel abstained from food, fasting for three weeks. (Dani el 10.2) They once fulfilled a wish to see the holy places of the passion of Christ, and on the way to Jerusalem they ate nothing, and even after they had arrived they did not eat until they had completed their adoration. On the way back they also fasted, and it is a journey of not less than twenty days. When they wanted to visit the shrine to the victory of the wonderful Thecla in I sauria, so that they might fuel the flames of their love towards God in every po ssible place, they went and came back fasting in exactly the same way. Their lov e towards God made them celebrate with a sort of divine passion, the divine love they had for their bridegroom increased their enthusiasm. And these two ornaments of the female sex by living such lives have become examp les to others, and have been crowned by the Lord with the crown of victory. I ho pe what I have written may be found useful, and having begged for their blessing , I pass on to write about someone else.

Book IX (continued) Chapter XXX DOMNINA In emulating the life of the divine Maro, whom I have already written about (see Chapter XVI), the admirable Domnina built a small hut in the garden of her moth er's house. She made it out of reeds. With floods of tears she not only watered her cheeks but also the garment made of hair with which she covered her body. Ar ound cock-crow she would go to the nearby church, along with other men and women , to offer praise to the God of all. She did this not only at the beginning of e ach day but at the end, setting an example to others by her conviction that a pl ace consecrated to God was more suitable for worship than any other. By doing th is she exerted a widespread influence, as well as persuading her mother and brot hers that they should given themselves to this discipline. Her food was lentils soaked in water. She undertook such labours that her body w as dried up and only half alive. A lightweight skin garment, almost as thin as p iece of paper, was what she threw over her slender bones, from which the flesh a nd fat was all wasted away because of her labours. She would not look at the fac es of anyone who came to see her, whether they were men or women, nor would she show her face for anyone else to see. She was almost entirely concealed beneath her garment, and she would bend forward almost down to her knees when speaking i n a very small, indistinct voice. Often, when she took my right hand and turned her eyes towards it, it was thoroughly soaked by the time she let it go before s haking the tears off her own hand. What can I say in praise of the great works she undertook in her search for wisd om, her weeping, her lamenting, her groaning as if she were in the depths of pov erty. The force of her love for God brought forth her tears, ignited her desire for divine contemplation, goaded her with pangs of remorse, and urged her onward s to her future departure from this earth. But however much she was occupied night and day in such exercises, she did not o verlook her concern for other schools of virtue, but encouraged the development of the most pre-eminent athletes, both those whom I have written about and those I have not. She took thought also for those who came to visit her, getting some

of them to live near the pastor of the community, while she herself supplied al l their necessities. She also persuaded her mother and brothers to gain a blessi ng by subsidising this venture. She even provided me with bread and fruit and st eeped lentils when I came to this district (it is in the southern part of our re gion). I have carried on my writings as far as this in an endeavour to describe all the se kinds of virtue, since it behoves us to have examples offered us of lives whi ch can be imitated, such as Domnina and the others whom I have mentioned. There are many other women, some of whom have embraced the solitary life, some who hav e chosen to live with groups of between two and five hundred or more, and a few who dine together, but who sleep on rush mats outside the institution, turning t heir hands to spinning, and consecrating their tongues to psalmody. There are co untless schools of wisdom like this, not only in this region but indeed througho ut all the East. Palestine, Egypt, Asia, Pontus and the whole of Europe are full of them. Christ the Lord holds virginity in great respect, and fertilises the n atural flowers that are born of virginity, gently anointing them, and offering t o the Creator flowers that will not fade away. He makes no distinction between m ale and female, nor allows any differences in their search for wisdom; there is a difference of bodies but not of souls. In Christ Jesus, as the Apostle says, t here is neither male nor female (Galatians 3.28). There is one faith for both wo men and men, 'there is one Lord, one faith, one baptism, on God and father of al l, who is over all, and through all, and in us all' (Ephesians 4.5). The lifelon g battle promises one kingdom of heaven to the victors, this is the reward for a ll who take up the struggle. So, as I have said, there are many establishments of godliness both for men and for women not only among us, but also in the whole of Syria. Palestine and Cilic ia, and in the land between the two rivers. They say that in Egypt there are mor e than five thousand men who have functioning monasteries, where they praise Go d and celebrate him with psalmody, not only providing for their own necessary fo od by the work of their hands, but also providing hospitality, and giving alms to the needy. But neither I nor all the writers in the world could possibly tell it all, and I think that it is unnecessary for everything possible to be recorded. Such a des ire springs from those to whom the opportunity of fame has not been given. What has already been written is quite sufficient to set forth what is needed by tho se who are seeking for guidance. So we have described a diverse selection of lives, both of men and of women, so that old men, young men and women might have set before them examples of the sea rch for wisdom, and let each individual person choose the life story which most nearly gives expression to what is in their own heart, and make of that life a r ule and benchmark for their own life. Let them imagine what their chosen example was like, let them imitate his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his forehead, his he ad and the hairs of his beard, the way he sits and the way he stands, even the e xpression of his eyes whether they are happy and keen, or severe and angry. This is what everyone who reads these writings must do if they wish to imitate any p articular life and make it their own. Carpenters mark their boards in red and cu t off what they do not need, until they can see that their boards correspond to what is in their plans. In the same way, anyone wishing to imitate the life of a nother should set a plan before himself, cut off his superfluous vices, and deve lop the virtues in which he is lacking. This is the only reason we have undertak en these writings, in the hope of being of some use to anyone who will. I beg all my readers to take pleasure without any effort in the labours of other s, and to add their prayers to those labours. And I pray to those whose lives I have written that they do not forget me, living as I do far from their spiritual choirs, but draw me after them, raise me to the heights of virtue and make me a member of their choir, so that not only I may praise the riches of others, but that I may also have the opportunity of giving praise, glorifying in deed and wo rd and thought the Saviour of all, to whom with the Father and the holy Spirit b e glory now and for ever and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

End of Book IX