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A SELECT LIBRARY 
 
 NICENE AND POST-NICENE FATHERS 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH. 
 
 TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH WITH PROLEGOMENA AND EXPLANATORY NOTES. 
 
 VOLUMES I.-VII. 
 UNDER THE EDITORIAL SUPERVISION OF 
 
 PHILIP SCHAFF, D.D., LL.D., 
 
 Professor of Church History in the 
 Union Tlieological Seminary, New York. 
 
 HENRY WACE, D.D., 
 
 Principal of King's College, 
 London. 
 
 IN CONNECTION WITH A NUMBER OF PATRISTIC SCHOLARS OF EUROPE 
 
 AND AMERICA. /5 j 
 
 VOLUME XI. 
 
 SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 VINCENT OF LERINS. 
 
 JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 • S9 
 itfo 
 
 v,ll 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN LITERATURE COMPANY. 
 
 OXFORD AND LONDON: 
 
 PARKER & COMPANY. 
 
 1894. 
 
Copyright, 1894, 
 By THE CHRISTIAN LITERATURE COMrANY 
 
 Press of J. J. Little & Co. 
 Astor Place, New York. 
 
CONTENTS OF VOLUME XL 
 
 SULPITIUS SEVERUS. Pace 
 By Alexander Roberts, D.D., Professor of Humanity, St. Andrews, Scotland. 
 
 Life i 
 
 Life of St. Martin 3 
 
 Letters 18 
 
 Dialogues 24 
 
 Doubtful Letters 55 
 
 Sacred History 71 
 
 VINCENT OF LfiRINS. 
 
 By C. A. Heurtley, D.D., Lady Margaret's Professor of Divinity in the University 
 of Oxford and Canon of Christ Church. 
 
 Introduction 127 
 
 a commonitory 1 3 1 
 
 Appendices 15 7-1 59 
 
 JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 By Edgar C. S. Gibson, M.A. Principal of the Theological College, Wells, Somerset. 
 
 Prolegomena 183 
 
 The Twelve Books on the Institutes of the Coenobia 201 
 
 The Conferences, Part I. (i.-x.) 291 
 
 The Conferences, Part II. (xi.-xvii.) 411 
 
 The Conferences, Part III. (xviii.-xxiv.) 475 
 
 The Seven Books on the Incarnation of the Lord, Against Nestorius 547 
 
 0© 
 
 — > 
 
THE WORKS of SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 TRANSLATED, 
 
 WITH PREFACE, AND NOTES, 
 
 REV. ALEXANDER ROBERTS, D. D., 
 
 PROFESSOR OF HUMANITY, UNIVERSITY OF ST. ANDREWS, SCOTLAND. 
 
LIFE AND WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 Sulpitius (or Sulpicius) Severus was bom in Aquitania about a.d. 363, and died, as is gener- 
 ally supposed, in a.d. 420. He was thus a contemporary of the two great Fathers of the Church, 
 St. Jerome and St. Augustine. The former refers to him in his Commentary on the 36th chapter 
 of Ezekiel as " our friend Severus." St. Augustine, again, having occasion to allude to him in 
 his 205th letter, describes him as "a man excelling in learning and wisdom." Sulpitius belonged 
 to an illustrious family. He was very carefully educated, and devoted himself in his early years 
 to the practice of oratory. He acquired a high reputation at the bar ; but, while yet in the 
 prime of life, he resolved to leave it, and seek, in company with some pious friends, contentment 
 and peace in a life of retirement and religious exercises. The immediate occasion of this resolu- 
 tion was the premature death of his wife, whom he had married at an early age, and to whom he 
 was deeply attached. His abandonment of the pleasures and pursuits of the world took place 
 about a.d. 392 ; and, notwithstanding all the entreaties and expostulations of his father, he 
 continued, from that date to his death, to lead a life of the strictest seclusion. Becoming a 
 Presbyter of the Church, he attached himself to St. Martin of Tours, for whom he ever after- 
 wards cherished the profoundest admiration and affection, and whose extraordinary career he has 
 traced with a loving pen in by far the most interesting of his works. 
 
 It is stated by some ancient writers that Sulpitius ultimately incurred the charge of heresy, 
 having, to some extent, embraced Pelagian opinions. And there have not been wanting those in 
 modern times who thought they could detect traces of such errors in his works. But it seems to 
 us that there is no ground for any such conclusion. Sulpitius constantly presents himself to us 
 as a most strenuous upholder of " catholic " or " orthodox " doctrines. It is evident that his 
 whole heart was engaged in the love and maintenance of these doctrines : he counts as his 
 "friends" those only who consistently adhered to them; and, while by no means in favor of 
 bitterly prosecuting or severely punishing "heretics," he shrunk with abhorrence from all thought 
 of communion with them. Perhaps the most striking impression we receive from a perusal of 
 his writings is his sincerity. We may often feel that he is over-credulous in his acceptance of the 
 miraculous ; and we may lament his narrowness in clinging so tenaciously to mere ecclesiastical 
 formulas ; but we are always impressed with the genuineness of his convictions, and with his 
 fervent desire to bring what he believed to be truth under the attention of his readers. 
 
 The style of Sulpitius is, upon the whole, marked by a considerable degree of classical purity 
 and clearness. He has been called " the Christian Sallust," and there are not a few obvious 
 resemblances between the two writers. But some passages occur in Sulpitius which are almost, 
 if not entirely, unintelligible. This is owing partly to the uncertainty of the text, and partly to 
 the use of terms which had sprung up since classical times, and the exact import of which it is 
 impossible to determine. In executing our version of this author (now for the first time, we 
 believe, translated into English), we have had constantly before us the editions of Sigonius 
 (1609), of Hornius (1664), of Vorstius (1709), and of Halm (1866). We have also consulted 
 a very old French translation of the Historic/, Sacra, published at Rouen in 1580. 
 
2 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 The order in which we have arranged the writings of Sulpitius is as follows : — 
 
 i. Life of St. Martin. 
 
 2. Letters (undoubted). 
 
 3. Dialogues. 
 
 4. Letters (doubtful). 
 
 5. Sacred History. 
 
 By far the most attractive of these works are those bearing on the life and achievements of 
 St. Martin. Sulpitius delights to return again and again to this wonderful man, and cannot find 
 language sufficiently strong in which to extol his merits. Hence, not only in the professed 
 Life, but also in the Letters and Dialogues, we have him brought very fully before us. The 
 reader will find near the beginning of the Vita as translated by us, a note bearing upon the 
 solemn asseverations of Sulpitius as to the reality of the miracles which Martin performed. 
 
 Most of the Letters here given are deemed spurious by Halm, the latest editor of our author. 
 He has, nevertheless, included the whole of them in his edition, and we have thought it desirable 
 to follow his example in our translation. 
 
 The Saered History of Sulpitius has for its object to present a compendious history of the 
 world from the Creation down to the year a.d. 400. The first and longer portion of the work is 
 simply an abridgment of the Scripture narrative. The latter part is more interesting and 
 valuable, as it deals with events lying outside of Scripture, and respecting which we are glad to 
 obtain information from all available sources. Unfortunately, however, Sulpitius is not always 
 a trustworthy authority. His inaccuracies in the first part of his work are very numerous, and will 
 be found pointed out in our version. 
 
 The following are some of the Estimates which have been formed of our author. 
 
 Paulinus, a contemporary of Sulpitius, and bishop of Nola, addressed to him about fifty letters, 
 in the fifth of which he thus writes : " It certainly would not have been given to thee to draw 
 up an account of Martin, unless by a pure heart thou hadst rendered thy mouth worthy of uttering 
 his sacred praises. Thou art blessed, therefore, of the Lord, inasmuch as thou hast been able, in 
 worthy style, and with proper feeling, to complete the history of so great a priest, and so 
 illustrious a confessor. Blessed, too, is he, in accordance with his merits, who has obtained a 
 historian worthy of his faith and of his life ; and who has become consecrated to the Divine 
 glory by his own virtues, and to human memory by thy narrative regarding him." 
 
 Gennadius (died a.d. 496), in his "Catalogue of illustrious men," says: "The Presbyter 
 Severus, whose cogn'omen was Sulpitius, belonged to the province of Aquitania. He was a man 
 distinguished both for his family and learning, and was remarkable for his love of poverty and 
 humility. He was also a great friend of some holy men, such as Martin, bishop of Tours, and 
 Paulinus, bishop of Nola; and his works are by no means to be neglected." 
 
 In modern times, J. J. Scaliger has said of Sulpitius, "He is the purest of all the ecclesiastical 
 writers." And Vossius, referring to some remarks of Baronius on Sulpitius, says : " I differ 
 from him (Baronius) in this, that, without sufficient care, he calls Gennadius the contemporary of 
 Severus, since Gennatlius flourished seventy years, more or less, after Severus. For he dedicated 
 his book ' On Faith ' (as he himself tells us) to Pope Gelasius, who became bishop of Rome in 
 a.d. 492. But he greatly extols the holiness of Sulpitius; and in the Roman martyrology his 
 memory (i.e. of Sulpitius) is celebrated on the 29th of January." 
 
 Archdeacon Farrar has recently remarked concerning Martin and Sulpitius, " Owing partly to 
 the eloquent and facile style of his (Martin's) biographer, Sulpicius Severus, his name was known 
 from Armenia to Egypt more widely than that of any other monk or bishop of his day." — Lives 
 of the Fathers, i. 628. 
 
SULPITIUS SEVERUS ON THE LIFE OF ST. MARTIN. 
 
 PREFACE TO DESIDERIUS. 
 
 Severus to his dearest brother Desiderius 
 sendeth greeting. I had determined, my like- 
 minded brother, to keep private, and confine 
 within the walls of my own house, the little trea- 
 tise which I had written concerning the life of 
 St. Martin. I did so, as I am not gifted with 
 much talent, and shrank from the criticisms of 
 the world, lest (as I think will be the case) my 
 somewhat unpolished style should displease my 
 readers, and I should be deemed highly worthy 
 of general reprehension for having too boldly 
 laid hold of a subject which ought to have been 
 reserved for truly eloquent writers. But I have 
 not been able to refuse your request again and 
 again presented. For what could there be which 
 I would not grant in deference to your love, even 
 at the expense of my own modesty? However, 
 I have submitted the work to you on the sure 
 understanding that you will reveal it to no other, 
 having received your promise to that effect. 
 Nevertheless, I have my fears that you will be- 
 come the means of its publication to the world ; 
 and I well know that, once issued, it can never 1 
 be recalled. If this shall happen, and you come 
 to know that it is read by some others, you will, 
 I trust, kindly ask the readers to attend to the 
 facts related, rather than the language in which 
 they are set forth. You will beg them not to 
 be offended if the style chances unpleasantly to 
 affect their ears, because the kingdom of God 
 consists not of eloquence, but faith. Let them 
 also bear in mind that salvation was preached 
 to the world, not by orators, but by fishermen, 
 although God could certainly have adopted the 
 other course, had it been advantageous. For 
 my part, indeed, when I first applied my mind 
 to writing what follows, because I thought it dis- 
 graceful that the excellences of so great a man 
 should remain concealed, I resolved with my- 
 self not to feel ashamed on account of sole- 
 cisms of language. This I did because I had 
 never attained to any great knowledge of such 
 things ; or, if I had formerly some taste of 
 
 " Delere licebit 
 Quod non edideris: nescit vox missa reverti." 
 
 — Hor. A rt Poet. 389-90. 
 
 studies of the kind, I had lost the whole of that, 
 through having neglected these matters for so 
 long a course of time. But, after all, that I may 
 not have in future to adopt such an irksome 
 mode of self-defense, the best way will be that 
 the book should be published, if you think right, 
 with the author's name suppressed. In order that 
 this may be done, kindly erase the title which 
 the book bears on its front, so that the page 
 may be silent; and (what is quite enough) let 
 the book proclaim its subject-matter, while it 
 tells nothing of the author. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Reasons for writing the Life of St. Martin. 
 
 Most men being vainly devoted to the pursuit 
 of worldly glory, have, as they imagined, acquired 
 a memorial of their own names from this source ; 
 viz. devoting their pens to the embellishment of 
 the lives of famous men. This course, although 
 it did not secure for them a lasting reputation, 
 still has undoubtedly brought them some fulfil- 
 ment of the hope they cherished. It has done 
 so, both by preserving their own memory, though 
 to no purpose, and because, through their having 
 presented to the world the examples of great 
 men, no small emulation has been excited in 
 the bosoms of their readers. Yet, notwithstand- 
 ing these things, their labors have in no degree 
 borne upon the blessed and never-ending life to 
 which we look forward. For what has a glory, 
 destined to perish with the world, profited those 
 men themselves who have written on mere secu- 
 lar matters? Or what benefit has posterity 
 derived from reading of Hector as a warrior, or 
 Socrates as an expounder of philosophy? There 
 can be no profit in such things, since it is not 
 only folly to imitate the persons referred to, but 
 absolute madness not to assail them with the 
 utmost severity. For, in truth, those persons 
 who estimate human life only by present actions, 
 have consigned their hopes to fables, and their 
 souls to the tomb. In fact, they gave themselves 
 up to be perpetuated simply in the memory of 
 mortals, whereas it is the duty of man rather to 
 
LIFE OF ST. MARTIN. 
 
 seek after eternal life than an eternal memorial, 
 and that, not by writing, or fighting, or philoso- 
 phizing, but by living a pious, holy, and religious 
 life. This erroneous conduct of mankind, being 
 enshrined in literature, has prevailed to such an 
 extent that it has found many who have been 
 emulous either of the vain philosophy or the 
 foolish excellence which has been celebrated. 
 For this reason, I think I will accomplish some- 
 thing well worth the necessary pains, if I write 
 the life of a most holy man, which shall serve in 
 future as an example to others ; by which, indeed, 
 the readers shall be roused to the pursuit of true 
 knowledge, and heavenly warfare, and divine 
 virtue. In so doing, we have regard also to our 
 own advantage, so that we may look for, not a 
 vain remembrance among men, but an eternal 
 reward from God. For, although we ourselves 
 have not lived in such a manner that we can 
 serve for an example to others, nevertheless, we 
 have made it our endeavor that he should not 
 remain unknown who was a man worthy of imi- 
 tation. I shall therefore set about writing the 
 life of St. Martin, and shall narrate both what 
 he did previous to his episcopate, and what he 
 performed as a bishop. At the same time, I 
 cannot hope to set forth all that he was or did. 
 Those excellences of which he alone was con- 
 scious are completely unknown, because, as he 
 did not seek for honor from men, he desired, as 
 much as he could accomplish it, that his virtues 
 should be concealed. And even of those which 
 had become known to us, we have omitted a 
 great number, because we have judged it enough 
 if only the more striking and eminent should be 
 recorded. At the same time, I had in the inter- 
 ests of readers to see to it that, no undue amount 
 of instances being set before them should make 
 them weary of the subject. But I implore those 
 who are to read what follows to give full faith to 
 the things narrated, and to believe that I have 
 written nothing of which I had not certain 
 knowledge and evidence. I should, in fact, 
 have preferred to be silent rather than to narrate 
 things which are false. 1 
 
 1 This is a remarkable asseveration in view of the many miracu- 
 lous accounts which follow. When we remember, on the one hand, 
 how intimate Sulpitius was with St. Martin, and how strongly, as 
 in this passage, he avouches the truth of all he narrates, it is ex- 
 tremely difficult to decide as to the real value of his narrative. It 
 has been said (Smith's Diet. II. 967) that Sulpitius' Life of St. 
 Martinus is " filled with the most puerile fables," and undoubtedly 
 many of the stories recorded are of that character. But whether, 
 considering the close relation in which the two men stood to each 
 other, all the miraculous accounts are to be discredited, must be 
 left to the judgment of the reader. The following valuable remarks 
 may be quoted on this interesting question. " Some forty years 
 ago," writes Dr. Cazenove, " an audience in Oxford was listening 
 to a professor of modern history (Dr. Arnold of Rugby), who dis- 
 cussed this subject. After pointing out the difference between the 
 Gospel miracles and those recorded by ecclesiastical historians, the 
 lecturer proceeded as follows: ' Some appear to be unable to con- 
 ceive of belief or unbelief, except, as having some ulterior object: 
 " We believe this because we love it; we disbelieve it because we 
 wish it to be disproved." There is, however, in minds more health- 
 fully constituted a belief and a disbelief, founded solely upon the 
 evidence of the case, arising neither out of partiality, nor out of 
 prejudice against the supposed conclusions, which may result from 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Military Service of St. Martin. 
 
 Martin, then, was born at Sabaria 1 in Pan- 
 nonia, but was brought up at Ticinum, 2 which is 
 situated in Italy. His parents were, according 
 to the judgment of the world, of no mean rank, 
 but were heathens. His father was at first sim- 
 ply a soldier, but afterwards a military tribune. 
 He himself in his youth following military pur- 
 suits was enrolled in the imperial guard, first 
 under king Constantine, and then under Julian 
 Caesar. This, however, was not done of his own 
 free will, for, almost from his earliest years, the 
 holy infancy of the illustrious boy aspired rather 
 to the service of God. 3 For, when he was of 
 the age of ten years, he betook himself, against 
 the wish of his parents, to the Church, and 
 begged that he might become a catechumen. 
 Soon afterwards, becoming in a wonderful man- 
 ner completely devoted to the service of God, 
 when he was twelve years old, he desired to en- 
 ter on the life of a hermit ; and he would have 
 followed up that desire with the necessary vows, 
 had not his as yet too youthful age prevented. 
 His mind, however, being always engaged on 
 matters pertaining to the monasteries or the 
 Church, already meditated in his boyish years 
 what he afterwards, as a professed servant of 
 
 its truth or falsehood. And in such a spirit the historical student 
 will consider the case of Bede's and other historians' miracles. He 
 will, I think, as a general rule, disbelieve them; for the immense 
 multitude which he finds recorded, and which, I suppose, no credu- 
 lity could believe in, shows sufficiently that on this point there was 
 a total want of judgment and a blindness of belief generally existing 
 which make the testimony wholly insufficient; and, while the ex- 
 ternal evidence in favor of these alleged miracles is so unsatisfactory, 
 there are, for the most part, strong internal evidence against them. 
 But with regard to some miracles, he will see that there is no strong 
 a priori improbability in their occurrence, but rather the contrary; 
 as, for instance, when the first missionaries of the Gospel in a bar- 
 barous country are said to have been assisted by a manifestation of 
 the spirit of power; and, if the evidence appears to warrant his 
 belief, he will readily and gladly yield it. And in doing so he will 
 have the countenance of a great man (Burke) who in his fragment 
 of English history has not hesitated to express the same sentiments. 
 Nor will he be unwilling, but most thankful, to find sufficient 
 grounds for believing that not only at the beginning of the Gospel, 
 but in ages long afterwards, believing prayer has received extraor- 
 dinary answers; that it has been heard even in more than it might 
 have dared to ask for. Yet, again, if the gift of faith — the gift as 
 distinguished from the grace — of the faith which removes moun- 
 tains, has been given to any in later times in remarkable measure, 
 the mighty works which such faith may have wrought cannot be 
 incredible in themselves to those who remember our Lord's promise, 
 and if it appears from satisfactory evidence that they were wrought 
 actually, we shall believe them, — and believe with joy. Only as it 
 is in most cases impossible to admit the trustworthiness of the evi- 
 dence, our minds must remain at the most in a state of suspense; 
 and I do not know why it is necessary to come to any positive decis- 
 ion.'" — "The Fathers for English Readers": St. Hilary 0/ Poi- 
 tiers and St. Martin of Tours, p. 191. 
 
 On this subject it has lately been said: " Most, if not all, of the 
 so-called miracles which were supposed to surround Martin with a 
 blaze of glory were either absolutely and on the face of them false; 
 or were gross exaggerations of natural events; or were subjective 
 impressions clothed in objective images; or were the distortions of 
 credulous rumor; or at the best cannot claim in their favor a 
 single particle of trustworthy evidence. They cannot be narrated 
 as though they were actual events. Martin was an eminent bishop, 
 but half of the wonderful deeds attributed to him are unworthy and 
 absurd." — Farrar's Lives of the Fathers, I. 644. 
 
 1 Sarwar. 2 Pavia. 
 
 3 The text is here corrupt and uncertain, but the general mean- 
 ing is plain to the above effect. Hahn has adopted " divinam ser- 
 vitutem," instead of the common " divina servitute." 
 
LIFE OF ST. MARTIN. 
 
 Christ, fulfilled. But when an edict was issued 
 by the ruling powers 4 in the state, that the sons 
 of veterans should be enrolled for military ser- 
 vice, and he, on the information furnished by his 
 father, (who looked with an evil eye on his blessed 
 actions) having been seized and put in chains, 
 when he was fifteen years old, was compelled to 
 take the military oath, then showed himself con- 
 tent with only one servant as his attendant. And 
 even to him, changing places as it were, he often 
 acted as though, while really master, he had been 
 inferior ; to such a degree that, for the most 
 part, he drew off his [servant's] boots and cleaned 
 them with his own hand ; while they took their 
 meals together, the real master, however, gener- 
 ally acting the part of servant. During nearly 
 three years before his baptism, he was engaged 
 in the profession of arms, but he kept completely 
 free from those vices in which that class of men 
 become too frequently involved. He showed 
 exceeding kindness towards his fellow-soldiers, 
 and held them in wonderful affection ; while his 
 patience and humility surpassed what seemed 
 possible to human nature. There is no need to 
 praise the self-denial which he displayed : it was 
 so great that, even at that date, he was regarded 
 not so much as being a soldier as a monk. By 
 all these qualities he had so endeared himself to 
 the whole body of his comrades, that they es- 
 teemed him while they marvelously loved him. 
 Although not yet made a new creature 5 in Christ, 
 he, by his good works, acted the part of a can- 
 didate for baptism. This he did, for instance, 
 by aiding those who were in trouble, by furnish- 
 ing assistance to the wretched, by supporting the 
 needy, by clothing the naked, while he reserved 
 nothing for himself from his military pay except 
 what was necessary for his daily sustenance. 
 Even then, far from being a senseless hearer of 
 the Gospel, he so far complied with its precepts 
 as to take no thought about the morrow. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Christ appears to St. Martin. 
 
 Accordingly, at a certain period, when he 
 had nothing except his arms and his simple 
 military dress, in the middle of winter, a winter 
 which had shown itself more severe than ordi- 
 nary, so that the extreme cold was proving fatal 
 to many, he happened to meet at the gate of 
 
 4 Sulpitius uses reges instead of the more common expression 
 imperatores. 
 
 s Sulpitius manifestly refers to baptism in these words. How- 
 ever mistakenly, several others of the early Fathers held that regen- 
 eration does not take place before baptism, and that baptism is, in 
 fact, absolutely necessary to regeneration. St. Ambrose has the 
 following strong statement on the subject: "Credit catechumenus; 
 sed nisi baptizetur, remissionem peccatorum non potest obtinere." 
 — Libri de his, qui initiantur mysteriis, chap. 4. 
 
 the city of Amiens l a poor man destitute of 
 clothing. He was entreating those that passed 
 by to have compassion upon him, but all passed 
 the wretched man without notice, when Martin, 
 that man full of God, recognized that a being to 
 whom others showed no pity, was, in that re- 
 spect, left to him. Yet, what should he do? 
 He had nothing except the cloak in which he 
 was clad, for he had already parted with the 
 rest of his garments for similar purposes. Tak- 
 ing, therefore, his sword with which he was girt, 
 he divided his cloak into two equal parts, and 
 gave one part to the poor man, while he again 
 clothed himself with the remainder. Upon this, 
 some of the by-standers laughed, because he 
 was now an unsightly object, and stood out as 
 but partly dressed. Many, however, who were 
 of sounder understanding, groaned deeply be- 
 cause they themselves had done nothing similar. 
 They especially felt this, because, being pos- 
 sessed of more than Martin, they could have 
 clothed the poor man without reducing them- 
 selves to nakedness. In the following night, 
 when Martin had resigned himself to sleep, he 
 had a vision of Christ arrayed in that part of his 
 cloak with which he had clothed the poor man. 
 He contemplated the Lord with the greatest 
 attention, and was told to own as his the robe 
 which he had given. Ere long, he heard Jesus 
 saying with a clear voice to the multitude of 
 angels standing round — " Martin, who is still 
 but a catechumen, clothed 2 me with this robe." 
 The Lord, truly mindful of his own words (who 
 had said when on earth — "Inasmuch 3 as ye 
 have done these things to one of the least of 
 these, ye have done them unto me), declared 
 that he himself had been clothed in that poor 
 man ; and to confirm the testimony he bore to 
 so good a deed, he condescended to show him 
 himself in that very dress which the poor man had 
 received. After this vision the sainted man was 
 not puffed up with human glory, but, acknowledg- 
 ing the goodness of God in what had been done, 
 and being now of the age of twenty years, he 
 hastened to receive baptism. He did not, how- 
 ever, all at once, retire from military service, 
 yielding to the entreaties of his tribune, whom he 
 admitted to be his familiar tent-companion. 4 For 
 the tribune promised that, after the period of 
 his office had expired, he too would retire from 
 the world. Martin, kept back by the expecta- 
 tion of this event, continued, although but in 
 name, to act the part of a soldier, for nearly two 
 years after he had received baptism. 
 
 1 The place here called by Sulpitius " Ambianensium civitas " 
 was also known as " Samarobriva," and is supposed to be the modern 
 Amiens. 2 St. Matt. xxv. 40. 
 
 3 There is a peculiar use of guamdiu in the old Latin rendering 
 of the passage here quoted. It is used as an equivalent for the 
 Greek h\>' 6<rov, no doubt with the meaning " inasmuch as." 
 
 4 Comp. Tacitus, Agric. chap. 5, " electus, quern contubernio 
 aestimaret." 
 
LIFE OF ST. MARTIN. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Martin retires from Military Service. 
 
 In the meantime, as the barbarians were 
 rushing within the two divisions of Gaul, Ju- 
 lian Caesar, 1 bringing an army together at the 
 city 2 of the Vaugiones, began to distribute a 
 donative to the soldiers. As was the custom in 
 such a case, they were called forward, one by 
 one, until it came to the turn of Martin. Then, 
 indeed, judging it a suitable opportunity for 
 seeking his discharge — for he did not think it 
 would be proper for him, if he were not to con- 
 tinue in the service, to receive a donative — he 
 said to Caesar, " Hitherto I have served you as 
 a soldier : allow me now to become a soldier 
 to God : let the man who is to serve thee re- 
 ceive thy donative : I am the soldier of Christ : 
 it is not lawful for me to fight." Then truly the 
 tyrant stormed on hearing such words, declaring 
 that, from fear of the battle, which was to take 
 place on the morrow, and not from any religious 
 feeling, Martin withdrew from the service. But 
 Martin, full of courage, yea all the more reso- 
 lute from the danger that had been set before 
 him, exclaims, " If this conduct of mine is 
 ascribed to cowardice, and not to faith, I will 
 take my stand unarmed before the line of battle 
 to-morrow, and in the name of the Lord Jesus, 
 protected by the sign of the cross, and not by 
 shield or helmet, I will safely penetrate the 
 ranks of the enemy." He is ordered, therefore, 
 to be thrust back into prison, determined on 
 proving his words true by exposing himself un- 
 armed to the barbarians. But, on the following 
 day, the enemy sent ambassadors to treat about 
 peace and surrendered both themselves and all 
 their possessions. In these circumstances who 
 can doubt that this victory was due to the saintly 
 man ? It was granted him that he should not 
 be sent unarmed to the fight. And although 
 the good Lord could have preserved his own 
 soldier, even amid the swords and darts of the 
 enemy, yet that his blessed eyes might not be 
 pained by witnessing the death of others, he 
 removed all necessity for fighting. For Christ 
 did not require to secure any other victory in 
 behalf of his own soldier, than that, the enemy 
 being subdued without bloodshed, no one should 
 suffer death. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Martin converts a Robber to the Faith. 
 
 From that time quitting military service, 
 Martin earnestly sought after the society of 
 
 1 Commonly known as Julian the Apostate. 
 
 - This city was called Borbetomagus, and is represented by the 
 modern Worms. 
 
 Hilarius, bishop of the city Pictava, 1 whose faith 
 in the things of God was then regarded as of 
 high renown, and in universal esteem. For 
 some time Martin made his abode with him. 
 Now, this same Hilarius, having instituted him 
 in the office of the diaconate, endeavored still 
 more closely to attach him to himself, and to 
 bind him by leading him to take part in Divine 
 service. But when he constantly refused, cry- 
 ing out that he was unworthy, Hilarius, as being 
 a man of deep penetration, perceived that he 
 could only be constrained in this way, if he 
 should lay that sort of office upon him, in dis- 
 charging which there should seem to be a kind 
 of injury done him. He therefore appointed 
 him to be an exorcist. Martin did not refuse 
 this appointment, from the fear that he might 
 seem to have looked down upon it as somewhat 
 humble. Not long after this, he was warned in 
 a dream that he should visit his native land, and 
 more particularly his parents, who were still in- 
 volved in heathenism, with a regard for their 
 religious interests. He set forth in accordance 
 with the expressed wish of the holy Hilarius, 
 and, after being adjured by him with many 
 prayers and tears, that he would in due time re- 
 turn. According to report Martin entered on 
 that journey in a melancholy frame of mind, 
 after calling the brethren to witness that many 
 sufferings lay before him. The result fully 
 justified this prediction. For, first of all, hav- 
 ing followed some devious paths among the 
 Alps, he fell into the hands of robbers. And 
 when one of them lifted up his axe and poised 
 it above Martin's head, another of them met 
 with his right hand the blow as it fell ; never- 
 theless, having had his hands bound behind his 
 back, he was handed over to one of them to be 
 guarded and stripped. The robber, having led 
 him to a private place apart from the rest, began 
 to enquire of him who he was. Upon this, 
 Martin replied that he was a Christian. The 
 robber next asked him whether he was afraid. 
 Then indeed Martin most courageously replied 
 that he never before had felt so safe, because he 
 knew that the mercy of the Lord would be es- 
 pecially present with him in the midst of trials. 
 He added that he grieved rather for the man in 
 whose hands he was, because, by living a life of 
 robbery, he was showing himself unworthy of the 
 mercy of Christ. And then entering on a dis- 
 course concerning Evangelical truth, he preached 
 the word of God to the robber. Why should I 
 delay stating the result ? The robber believed ; 
 and, after expressing his respect for Martin, he 
 restored him to the way, entreating him to pray 
 the Lord for him. That same robber was after- 
 
 1 This was a city of the Pictones (or Pictavi) who are mentioned 
 by Caesar, Bell Gall. iii. n. Their territory corresponded to the 
 modern diocese of Poitiers. 
 
LIFE OF ST. MARTIN. 
 
 wards seen leading a religious life ; so that, in 
 fact, the narrative I have given above is based 
 upon an account furnished by himself. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The Devil throws himself in the Way of Martin. 
 
 Martin, then, having gone on from thence, 
 after he had passed Milan, the devil met him in 
 the way, having assumed the form of a man. 
 The devil first asked him to what place he was 
 going. Martin having answered him to the ef- 
 fect that he was minded to go whithersoever the 
 Lord called him, the devil said to him, " Wher- 
 ever you go, or whatever you attempt, the devil 
 will resist you." Then Martin, replying to him 
 in the prophetical word, said, " The Lord is my 
 helper ; I will not fear what man can do unto 
 me." l Upon this, his enemy immediately van- 
 ished out of his sight ; and thus, as he had in- 
 tended in his heart and mind, he set free his 
 mother from the errors of heathenism, though 
 his father continued to cleave to its evils. How- 
 ever, he saved many by his example. 
 
 After this, when the Arian heresy had spread 
 through the whole world, and was especially 
 powerful in Illyria, and when he, almost single- 
 handed, was fighting most strenuously against 
 the treachery of the priests, and had been sub- 
 jected to many punishments (for he was publicly 
 scourged, and at last was compelled to leave the 
 city), again betaking himself to Italy, and hav- 
 ing found the Church in the two divisions of Gaul 
 in a distracted condition through the departure 
 also of the holy Hilarius, whom the violence 
 of the heretics had driven into exile, he estab- 
 lished a monastery for himself at Milan. There, 
 too, Auxentius, the originator and leader of the 
 Arians, bitterly persecuted him ; and, after he 
 had assailed him with many injuries, violently 
 expelled him from the city. Thinking, there- 
 fore, that it was necessary to yield to circum- 
 stances, he withdrew to the island Gallinaria, 2 
 with a certain presbyter as his companion, a 
 man of distinguished excellences. Here he sub- 
 sisted for some time on the roots of plants ; and, 
 while doing so, he took for food hellebore, which 
 is, as people say, a poisonous kind of grass. But 
 when he perceived the strength of the poison 
 increasing within him, and death now nearly at 
 hand, he warded off the imminent danger by 
 means of prayer, and immediately all his pains 
 were put to flight. And not long after having 
 discovered that, through penitence on the part of 
 the king, permission to return had been granted 
 
 1 Comp. Ps. cxviii. 6. 
 
 2 An island near Albium Ingaunum — the modern Allenga, on 
 the Gulf of Genoa. The island was so named from abounding in 
 fowls in a half-tamed state. It still bears the name of Gallinaria. 
 
 to holy Hilarius, he made an effort to meet him 
 at Rome, and, with this view, set out for that 
 city. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Martin restores a Catechumen to Life. 
 
 As Hilarius had already gone away, so Martin 
 followed in his footsteps ; and having been most 
 joyously welcomed by him, he established for 
 himself a monastery not far from the town. At 
 this time a certain catechumen joined him, being 
 desirous of becoming instructed in the doctrines 1 
 and habits of the most holy man. But, after the 
 lapse only of a few days, the catechumen, seized 
 with a languor, began to suffer from a violent 
 fever. It so happened that Martin had then left 
 home, and having remained away three days, he 
 found on his return that life had departed from 
 the catechumen ; and so suddenly had death oc- 
 curred, that he had left this world without re- 
 ceiving baptism. The body being laid out in 
 public was being honored by the last sad offices 
 on the part of the mourning brethren, when 
 Martin hurries up to them with tears and lamen- 
 tations. But then laying hold, as it were, of the 
 Holy Spirit, with the whole powers of his mind, 
 he orders the others to quit the cell in which 
 the body was lying ; and bolting the door, he 
 stretches himself at full length on the dead limbs 
 of the departed brother. Having given himself 
 for some time to earnest prayer, and perceiving 
 by means of the Spirit of God that power was 
 present, 2 he then rose up for a little, and gazing 
 on the countenance of the deceased, he waited 
 without misgiving for the result of his prayer 
 and of the mercy of the Lord. And scarcely 
 had the space of two hours elapsed, when he saw 
 the dead man begin to move a little in all his 
 members, and to tremble with his eyes opened 
 for the practice of sight. Then indeed, turning 
 to the Lord with a loud voice and giving thanks, 
 he filled the cell with his ejaculations. Hearing 
 the noise, those who had been standing at the 
 door immediately rush inside. And truly a mar- 
 velous spectacle met them, for they beheld the 
 man alive whom they had formerly left dead. 
 Thus being restored to life, and having immedi- 
 ately obtained baptism, he lived for many years 
 afterwards ; and he was the first who offered 
 himself to us both as a subject that had experi- 
 enced the virtues 3 of Martin, and as a witness 
 to their existence. The same man was wont to 
 relate that, when he left the body, he was brought 
 before the tribunal of the Judge, and being as- 
 signed to gloomy regions and vulgar crowds, he 
 
 1 All this seems to be implied in the words " institui disciplinis." 
 
 2 " adesse virtutem." 
 
 3 Or " powers" according to the use of the Greek word SuVajiis 
 in St. Luke viii. 46. 
 
LIFE OF ST. MARTIN. 
 
 received a severe 4 sentence. Then, however, he 
 added, it was suggested by two angels of the 
 Judge that he was the man for whom Martin 
 was praying ; and that, on this account, he was 
 ordered to be led back by the same angels, and 
 given up to Martin, and restored to his former 
 life. From this time forward, the name of the 
 sainted man became illustrious, so that, as being 
 reckoned holy by all, he was also deemed pow- 
 erful and truly apostolical. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Martin restores one that had been strangled. 
 
 Not long after these events, while Martin was 
 passing by the estate of a certain man named 
 Lupicinus, who was held in high esteem according 
 to the judgment of the world, he was received 
 with shouting and the lamentations of a wailing 
 crowd. Having, in an anxious state of mind, 
 gone up to that multitude, and enquired what 
 such weeping meant, he was told that one of the 
 slaves of the family had put an end to his life by 
 hanging. Hearing this, Martin entered the cell 
 in which the body was lying, and, excluding all 
 the multitude, he stretched himself upon the 
 body, and spent some little time in prayer. 
 Ere long, the deceased, with life beaming in his 
 countenance, and with his drooping eyes fixed 
 on Martin's face, is aroused ; and with a gentle 
 effort attempting to rise, he laid hold of the 
 right hand of the saintly man, and by this means 
 stood upon his feet. In this manner, while the 
 whole multitude looked on, he walked along 
 with Martin to the porch of the house. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 High Esteem in which Martin was held. 
 
 Nearly about the same time, Martin was 
 called upon to undertake the episcopate of the 
 church at Tours ; l but when he could not 
 easily be drawn forth from his monastery, a 
 certain Ruricius, one of the citizens, pretending 
 that his wife was ill, and casting himself down 
 at his knees, prevailed on him to go forth. 
 Multitudes of the citizens having previously been 
 posted by the road on which he traveled, he is 
 thus under a kind of guard escorted to the city. 
 An incredible number of people not only from 
 that town, but also from the neighboring cities, 
 had, in a wonderful mariner, assembled to give 
 
 * Here again it is to be noted what fatal consequences were sup- 
 posed to flow from dying without receiving baptism. 
 
 1 The Turones occupied territory on both sides of the river 
 Loire. Caesar refers to them {Bell. Gall. ii. 35, &c). Their chief 
 town was named Caesarodunum, the modern Tours. 
 
 their votes. 2 There was but one wish among all, 
 there were the same prayers, and there was the 
 same fixed opinion to the effect that Martin was 
 most worthy of the episcopate, and that the 
 church would be happy with such a priest. A 
 few persons, however, and among these some of 
 the bishops, who had been summoned to appoint 
 a chief priest, were impiously offering resistance, 
 asserting forsooth that Martin's person was con- 
 temptible, that he was unworthy of the episco- 
 pate, that he was a man despicable in counte- 
 nance, that his clothing was mean, and his hair 
 disgusting. This madness of theirs was ridiculed 
 by the people of sounder judgment, inasmuch as 
 such objectors only proclaimed the illustrious 
 character of the man, while they sought to 
 slander him. Nor truly was it allowed them to 
 do anything else, than what the people, follow- 
 ing the Divine will, desired 3 to be accomplished. 
 Among the bishops, however, who had been 
 present, a certain one of the name Defensor is 
 said to have specially offered opposition ; and 
 on this account it was observed that he was at 
 the time severely censured in the reading from 
 the prophets. For when it so happened that the 
 reader, whose duty it was to read in public 
 that day, being blocked out by the people, 
 failed to appear, the officials falling into con- 
 fusion, while they waited for him who never 
 came, one of those standing by, laying hold of 
 the Psalter, seized upon the first verse which 
 presented itself to him. Now, the Psalm ran 
 thus : " Out of the mouth of babes and suck- 
 lings thou hast perfected praise because of thine 
 enemies, that thou mightest destroy the enemy 
 and the avenger." 4 On these words being read, 
 a shout was raised by the people, and the oppo- 
 site party were confounded. It was believed 
 that this Psalm had been chosen by Divine 
 ordination, that Defensor 5 might hear a testi- 
 mony to his own work, because the praise of the 
 Lord was perfected out of the mouth of babes 
 and sucklings in the case of Martin, while the 
 enemy was a£ the same time both pointed out 
 and destroyed. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Martin as Bishop of Tours. 
 
 And now having entered on the episcopal 
 office, it is beyond my power fully to set forth 
 how Martin distinguished himself in the dis- 
 charge of its duties. For he remained with the 
 utmost constancy, the same as he had been 
 
 - It is clear from this passage that the people at large were 
 accustomed in ancient times to give their votes on the appointment 
 of a bishop. 
 
 3 We here adopt Halm's reading " cogitabat," in preference to 
 the usual " cogebat." 4 Ps. viii. 3. 
 
 5 The word translated " avenger " in the English A. V. is " de- 
 fensor " in the Vulgate, and thus the man referred to would have 
 seemed to be expressly named. 
 
LIFE OF ST. MARTIN. 
 
 9 
 
 before. There was the same humility in his 
 heart, and the same homeliness in his garments. 
 Full alike of dignity and courtesy, he kept up 
 the position of a bishop properly, yet in such a 
 way as not to lay aside the objects and virtues 
 of a monk. Accordingly he made use, for some 
 time, of the cell connected with the church ; 
 but afterwards, when he felt it impossible to 
 tolerate the disturbance caused by the numbers 
 of those visiting it, he established a monastery 
 for himself about two miles outside the city. 
 This spot was so secret and retired that he en- 
 joyed in it the solitude of a hermit. For, on 
 one side, it was surrounded by a precipitous 
 rock of a lofty mountain, while the river Loire 
 had shut in the rest of the plain by a bay ex- 
 tending back for a little distance ; and the place 
 could be approached only by one, and that a 
 very narrow passage. Here, then, he possessed 
 a cell constructed of wood. Many also of the 
 brethren had, in the same manner, fashioned re- 
 treats for themselves, but most of them had 
 formed these out of the rock of the overhanging 
 mountain, hollowed into caves. There were 
 altogether eighty disciples, who were being dis- 
 ciplined after the example of the saintly master. 
 No one there had anything which was called his 
 own ; all things were possessed in common. It 
 was not allowed either to buy or to sell anything, 
 as is the custom among most monks. No art 
 was practiced there, except that of transcribers, 
 and even this was assigned to the brethren of 
 younger years, while the elders spent their time 
 in prayer. Rarely did any one of them go be- 
 yond the cell, unless when they assembled at 
 the place of prayer. They all took their food 
 together, after the hour of fasting was past. No 
 one used wine, except when illness compelled 
 them to do so. Most of them were clothed in 
 garments of camels' hair. 1 Any dress approach- 
 ing to softness 2 was there deemed criminal, and 
 this must be thought the more remarkable, be- 
 cause many among them were such as are 
 deemed of noble rank. These, though far dif- 
 ferently brought up, had forced themselves down 
 to this degree of humility and patient endurance, 
 and we have seen numbers of these afterwards 
 made bishops. For what city or church would 
 there be that would not desire to have its priests 
 from among those in the monastery of Martin ? 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Martin demolishes an Altar consecrated to a 
 Robber. 
 
 But let me proceed to a description of other 
 
 1 Cf. St. Matt. iii. 4. 
 
 2 * n St. M att ; xi. 8, there is a reference to those " that wear soft 
 clothing," — oi -a /xaAaxa (^opoOvTe?. 
 
 excellences which Martin displayed as a bishop. 
 There was, not far from the town, a place very 
 close to the monastery, which a false human 
 opinion had consecrated, on the supposition that 
 some martyrs had been buried together there. 
 For it was also believed that an altar had been 
 placed there by former bishops. But Martin, 
 not inclined to give a hasty belief to things un- 
 certain, often asked from those who were his 
 elders, whether among the presbyters or clerics, 
 that the name of the martyr, or the time when 
 he suffered, should be made known to him. He 
 did so, he said, because he had great scruples 
 on these points, inasmuch as no steady tradition 
 respecting them had come down from antiquity. 
 Having, therefore, for a time kept away from 
 the place, by no means wishing to lessen the 
 religious veneration with which it was regarded, 
 because he was as yet uncertain, but, at the 
 same time not lending his authority to the 
 opinion of the multitude, lest a mere supersti- 
 tion should obtain a firmer footing, he one day 
 went out to the place, taking a few brethren 
 with him as companions. There standing above 
 the very sepulchre, Martin prayed to the Lord 
 that he would reveal who the man in question 
 was, and what was his character or desert. Next 
 turning to the left-hand side, he sees standing 
 very near a shade of a mean and cruel appear- 
 ance. Martin commands him to tell his name 
 and character. Upon this, he declares his name, 
 and confesses his guilt. He says that he had 
 been a robber, and that he was beheaded on 
 account of his crimes ; that he had been hon- 
 ored simply by an error of the multitude ; that 
 he had nothing in common with the martyrs, 
 since glory was their portion, while punishment 
 exacted its penalties from him. Those who 
 stood by heard, in a wonderful way, the voice 
 of the speaker, but they beheld no person. 
 Then Martin made known what he had seen, 
 and ordered the altar which had been there to 
 be removed, and thus he delivered the people 
 from the error of that superstition. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Martin causes the Bearers of a Dead Body to 
 
 Now, it came to pass some time after the 
 above, that while Martin was going a journey, 
 he met the body of a certain heathen, which was 
 being carried to the tomb with superstitious fu- 
 neral rites. Perceiving from a distance the crowd 
 that was approaching, and being ignorant as to 
 what was going on, he stood still for a little 
 while. For there was a distance of nearly half 
 a mile between him and the crowd, so that it 
 
IO 
 
 LIFE OF ST. MARTIN. 
 
 was difficult to discover what the spectacle he 
 beheld really was. Nevertheless, because he 
 saw it was a rustic gathering, and when the linen 
 clothes spread over the body were blown about 
 by the action of the wind, he believed that some 
 profane rites of sacrifice were being performed. 
 This thought occurred to him, because it was the 
 custom of the Gallic rustics in their wretched 
 folly to carry about through the fields the im- 
 ages of demons veiled with a white covering. 
 Lifting up, therefore, the sign of the cross oppo- 
 site to them, he commanded the crowd not to 
 move from the place in which they were, and to 
 set down the burden. Upon this, the miserable 
 creatures might have been seen at first to be- 
 come stiff like rocks. Next, as they endeavored, 
 with every possible effort, to move forward, but 
 were not able to take a step farther, they began 
 to whirl themselves about in the most ridiculous 
 fashion, until, not able any longer to sustain the 
 weight, they set down the dead body. Thunder- 
 struck, and gazing in bewilderment at each other, 
 as not knowing what had happened to them, 
 they remained sunk in silent thought. But when 
 the saintly man discovered that they were simply 
 a band of peasants celebrating funeral rites, and 
 not sacrifices to the gods, again raising his hand, 
 he gave them the power of going away, and of 
 lifting up the body. Thus he both compelled 
 them to stand when he pleased, and permitted 
 them to depart when he thought good. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Martin escapes from a Falling Pine-tree. 
 
 Again, when in a certain village he had de- 
 molished a very ancient temple, and had set 
 about cutting down a pine-tree, which stood 
 close to the temple, the chief priest of that place, 
 and a crowd of other heathens began to oppose 
 him. And these people, though, under the in- 
 fluence of the Lord, they had been quiet while 
 the temple was being overthrown, could not 
 patiently allow the tree to be cut down. Martin 
 carefully instructed them that there was nothing 
 sacred in the trunk of a tree, and urged them 
 rather to honor God whom he himself served. 
 He added that there was a moral necessity why 
 that tree should be cut down, because it had 
 been dedicated to a demon. Then one of them 
 who was bolder than the others says, " If you 
 have any trust in thy God, whom you say you 
 worship, we ourselves will cut down this tree, 
 and be it your part to receive it when falling ; 
 for if, as you declare, your Lord is with you, 
 you will escape all injury." Then Martin, cour- 
 ageously trusting in the Lord, promises that he 
 would do what had been asked. Upon this, all 
 
 that crowd of heathen agreed to the condition 
 named ; for they held the loss of their tree a 
 small matter, if only they got the enemy of their 
 religion buried beneath its fall. Accordingly, 
 since that pine-tree was hanging over in one 
 direction, so that there was no doubt to what 
 side it would fall on being cut, Martin, having 
 been bound, is, in accordance with the decision 
 of these pagans, placed in that spot where, as no 
 one doubted, the tree was about to fall. They 
 began, therefore, to cut down their own tree, 
 with great glee and joyfulness, while there was 
 at some distance a great multitude of wondering 
 spectators. And now the pine-tree began to 
 totter, and to threaten its : own ruin by falling. 
 The monks at a distance grew pale, and, terri- 
 fied by the danger ever coming nearer, had lost 
 all hope and confidence, expecting only the 
 death of Martin. But he, trusting in the Lord, 
 and waiting courageously, when now the falling 
 pine had uttered its expiring crash, while it was 
 now falling, while it was just rushing upon him, 
 simply holding up his hand against it, he put in 
 its way the sign of salvation. Then, indeed, 
 after the manner of a spinning-top (one might 
 have thought it driven 2 back), it swept round 
 to the opposite side, to such a degree that it 
 almost crushed the rustics, who had taken their 
 places there in what was deemed a safe spot. 
 Then truly, a shout being raised to heaven, the 
 heathen were amazed by the miracle, while the 
 monks wept for joy ; and the name of Christ 
 was in common extolled by all. The well-known 
 result was that on that day salvation came to 
 that region. For there was hardly one of that 
 immense multitude of heathens who did not 
 express a desire for the imposition of hands, and 
 abandoning his impious errors, made a profession 
 of faith in the Lord Jesus. Certainly, before 
 the times of Martin, very few, nay, almost none, 
 in those regions had received the name of Christ ; 
 but through his virtues and example that name 
 has prevailed to such an extent, that now there 
 is no place thereabouts which is not filled either 
 with very crowded churches or monasteries. 
 For wherever he destroyed heathen temples, 
 there he used immediately to build either 
 churches or monasteries. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Alartin destroys Heathen Temples and Altars. 
 
 Nor did he show less eminence, much about 
 the same time, in other transactions of a like 
 
 1 Perhaps " suam " here stands for "ejus," as in other passages 
 of our author. The meaning will then be, *' and to threaten his 
 (Martin's) destruction by falling." 
 
 2 It seems better to preserve the parenthesis than to translate 
 the words as they stand in Halm's text, " turn vero — velut tur- 
 binis modo retro actam putares — diversam in partem ruit." 
 
LIFE OF ST. MARTIN. 
 
 1 1 
 
 kind. For, having in a certain village set fire 
 to a very ancient and celebrated temple, the 
 circle of flames was carried by the action of the 
 wind upon a house which was very close to, yea, 
 connected with, the temple. When Martin per- 
 ceived this, he climbed by rapid ascent to the 
 roof of the house, presenting himself in front of 
 the advancing flames. Then indeed might the 
 fire have been seen thrust back in a wonderful 
 manner against the force of the wind, so that 
 there appeared a sort of conflict of the two ele- 
 ments fighting together. Thus, by the influence 
 of Martin, the fire only acted in the place where 
 it was ordered to do so. But in a village which 
 was named Leprosum, when he too wished to 
 overthrow a temple which had acquired great 
 wealth through the superstitious ideas enter- 
 tained of its sanctity, a multitude of the heathen 
 resisted him to such a degree that he was driven 
 back not without bodily injury. He, therefore, 
 withdrew to a place in the vicinity, and there 
 for three days, clothed in sackcloth 1 and ashes, 
 fasting and praying the whole time, he besought 
 the Lord, that, as he had not been able to over- 
 throw that temple by human effort, Divine power 
 might be exerted to destroy it. Then two angels, 
 with spears and shields after the manner of heav- 
 enly warriors, suddenly presented themselves to 
 him, saying that they were sent by the Lord to 
 put to flight the rustic multitude, and to furnish 
 protection to Martin, lest, while the temple was 
 being destroyed, any one should offer resistance. 
 They told him therefore to return, and complete 
 the blessed work which he had begun. Accord- 
 ingly Martin returned to the village ; and while 
 the crowds of heathen looked on in perfect quiet 
 as he razed the pagan temple even to the foun- 
 dations, he also reduced all the altars and images 
 to dust. At this sight the rustics, when they 
 perceived that they had been so astounded and 
 terrified by an intervention of the Divine will, 
 that they might not be found fighting against 
 the bishop, almost all believed in the Lord Jesus. 
 They then began to cry out openly and to con- 
 fess that the God of Martin ought to be wor- 
 shiped, and that the idols should be despised, 
 which were not able to help them. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Martin offers his Neck to an Assassin. 
 
 I shall also relate what took place in the vil- 
 lage of the zEdui. When Martin was there over- 
 throwing a temple, a multitude of rustic heathen 
 rushed upon him in a frenzy of rage. And when 
 one of them, bolder than the rest, made an attack 
 
 1 Literally " a covering made of Cilician goats' hair.' 
 called Cilicium, and was worn by soldiers and others. 
 
 upon him with a drawn sword, Martin, throwing 
 back his cloak, offered his bare neck to the assas- 
 sin. Nor did the heathen delay to strike, but in 
 the very act of lifting up his right arm, he fell to 
 the ground on his back, and being overwhelmed 
 by the fear of God, he entreated for pardon. 
 Not unlike this was that other event which hap- 
 pened to Martin, that when a certain man had 
 resolved to wound him with a knife as he was 
 destroying some idols, at the very moment of 
 fetching the blow, the weapon was struck out of 
 his hands and disappeared. Very frequently, too, 
 when the pagans were addressing him to the 
 effect that he would not overthrow their temples, 
 he so soothed and conciliated the minds of the 
 heathen by his holy discourse that, the light of 
 truth having been revealed to them, they them- 
 selves overthrew their own temples. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Cures effected by St. Afar tin. 
 
 Moreover, the gift 1 of accomplishing cures 
 was so largely possessed by Martin, that scarcely 
 any sick person came to him for assistance with- 
 out being at once restored to health. This will 
 clearly appear from the following example. A 
 certain girl at Treves 2 was so completely pros- 
 trated by a terrible paralysis that for a long time 
 she had been quite unable to make use of her 
 body for any purpose, and being, as it were, 
 already dead, only the smallest breath of life 
 seemed still to remain in her. Her afflicted 
 relatives were standing by, expecting nothing 
 but her death, when it was suddenly announced 
 that Martin had come to that city. When the 
 father of the girl found that such was the case, 
 he ran to make a request in behalf of his all but 
 lifeless child. It happened that Martin had 
 already entered the church. There, while the 
 people were looking on, and in the presence of 
 many other bishops, the old man, uttering a cry 
 of grief, embraced the saint's knees and said : 
 " My daughter is dying of a miserable kind of 
 infirmity ; and, what is more dreadful than death 
 itself, she is now alive only in the spirit, her flesh 
 being already dead before the time. I beseech 
 thee to go to her, and give her thy blessing ; for 
 I believe that through you she will be restored 
 to health." Martin, troubled by such an address, 
 was bewildered, and shrank back, saying that 
 this was a matter not in his own hands ; that 
 the old man was mistaken in the judgment he 
 
 1 The Latin word gratia here corresponds to the Greek ydpicr)ja. 
 St. Paul says much respecting the various x a P'0>aTa in i Cor. xii._. 
 and speaks, among others, of yapCtr/xaTa ia/narar (v. 9). 
 
 2 The name Treveri at first denoted the people (as often in 
 Caesar, Bell. Gall. i. 37, &c), and was afterwards -applied to their 
 chief city, the modern Treves. 
 
12 
 
 LIFE OF ST. MARTIN. 
 
 had formed ; and that he was not worthy to be 
 the instrument through whom the Lord should 
 make a display of his power. The father, in 
 tears, persevered in still more earnestly pressing 
 the case, and entreated Martin to visit the dying 
 girl. 'At last, constrained by the bishops stand- 
 ing by to go as requested, he went down to the 
 home of the girl. An immense crowd was wait- 
 ing at the doors, to see what the servant of the 
 Lord would do. And first, betaking himself to 
 his familiar arms in affairs of that kind, he cast 
 himself down on the ground and prayed. Then 
 gazing earnestly upon the ailing girl, he requests 
 that oil should be given him. After he had re- 
 ceived and blessed this, he poured the powerful 
 sacred liquid into the mouth of the girl, and im- 
 mediately her voice returned to her. Then gradu- 
 ally, through contact with him, her limbs began, 
 one by one, to recover life, till, at last, in the 
 presence of the people, she arose with firm steps. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 Martin casts out Several Devils. 
 
 At the same time the servant of one Tetra- 
 dius, a man of proconsular rank, having been 
 laid hold of by a demon, was tormented with 
 the most miserable results. Martin, therefore, 
 having been asked to lay his hands on him, or- 
 dered the servant to be brought to him ; but the 
 evil spirit could, in no way, be brought forth from 
 the cell in which he was : he showed himself so 
 fearful, with ferocious teeth, to those who at- 
 tempted to draw near. Then Tetradius throws 
 himself at the feet of the saintly man, imploring 
 that he himself would go down to the house in 
 which the possessed of the devil was kept. But 
 Martin then declared that he could not visit the 
 house of an unconverted heathen. For Tetra- 
 dius, at that time, was still involved in the errors 
 of heathenism. He, therefore, pledges his word 
 that if the demon were driven out of the boy, 
 he would become a Christian. Martin, then, 
 laying his hand upon the boy, cast the evil spirit 
 out of him. On seeing this, Tetradius believed 
 in the Lord Jesus, and immediately became a 
 catechumen, while, not long after, he was bap- 
 tized ; and he always regarded Martin with ex- 
 traordinary affection, as having been the author 
 of his salvation. 
 
 About the same time, having entered the 
 dwelling of a certain householder in the same 
 town, he stopped short at the very threshold, and 
 said, that he perceived a horrible demon in the 
 court-yard of the house. When Martin ordered 
 it to depart, it laid hold of a certain member of 
 
 the family, who was staying in the inner part of 
 the house ; and the poor wretch began at once to 
 rage with his teeth, and to lacerate whomsoever 
 he met. The house was thrown into disorder ; 
 the family was in confusion ; and the people 
 present took to flight. Martin threw himself in 
 the way of the frenzied creature, and first of all 
 commanded him to stand still. But when he 
 continued to gnash with his teeth, and, with 
 gaping mouth, was threatening to bite, Martin 
 inserted his fingers into his mouth, and said, 
 " If you possess any power, devour these." But 
 then, as if red-hot iron had entered his jaws, 
 drawing his teeth far away he took care not to 
 touch the fingers of the saintly man ; and when 
 he was compelled by punishments and tortures, 
 to flee out of the possessed body, while he had 
 no power of escaping by the mouth, he was cast 
 out by means of a defluxion of the belly, leaving 
 disgusting traces behind him. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 Martin performs Various Miracles. 
 
 I>r the meanwhile, as a sudden report had 
 troubled the city as to the movement and 
 inroad of the barbarians, Martin orders a pos- 
 sessed person to be set before him, and com- 
 manded him to declare whether this message 
 was true or not. Then he confessed that there 
 were sixteen demons who had spread this report 
 among the people, in order that by the fear thus 
 excited, Martin might have to flee from the city, 
 but that, in fact, nothing was less in the minds 
 of the barbarians than to make any inroad. 
 When the unclean spirit thus acknowledged these 
 things in the midst of the church, the city was 
 set free from the fear and tumult which had at 
 the time been felt. 
 
 At Paris, again, when Martin was entering the 
 gate of the city, with large crowds attending 
 him, he gave a kiss to a leper, of miserable ap- 
 pearance, while all shuddered at seeing him do 
 so ; and Martin blessed him, with the result 
 that he was instantly cleansed from all his mis- 
 ery. On the following day, the man appearing 
 in the church with a healthy skin, gave thanks 
 for the soundness of body which he had recov- 
 ered. This fact, too, ought not to be passed 
 over in silence, that threads from Martin's gar- 
 ment, or such as had been plucked from the 
 sackcloth which he wore, wrought frequent mir- 
 acles upon those who were sick. For, by either 
 being tied round the fingers or placed about the 
 neck, they very often drove away diseases from 
 the afflicted. 
 
 
LIFE OF ST. MARTIN. 
 
 13 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A Letter of Martin effects a Cure, with Other 
 Miracles. 
 
 Further, Arborius, an ex-prefect, and a man 
 of a very holy and faithful character, while his 
 daughter was in agony from the burning fever 
 of a quartan ague, inserted in the bosom of the 
 girl, at the very paroxysm of the heat, a letter 
 of Martin which happened to have been brought 
 to him, and immediately the fever was dispelled. 
 This event had such an influence upon Arborius, 
 that he at once consecrated the girl to God, and 
 devoted her to perpetual virginity. Then, pro- 
 ceeding to Martin, he presented the girl to him, 
 as an obvious living example of his power of 
 working miracles, inasmuch as she had been 
 cured by him though absent ; and he would not 
 suffer her to be consecrated by any other than 
 Martin, through his placing upon her the dress 
 characteristic of virginity. 
 
 Paulinus, too, a man who was afterwards to 
 furnish a striking example of the age, having be- 
 gun to suffer grievously in one of his eyes, and 
 when a pretty thick skin * having grown over it 
 had already covered up its pupil, Martin touched 
 his eye with a painter's brush, and, all pain 
 being removed, thus restored it to its former 
 soundness. He himself also, when, by a certain 
 accident, he had fallen out of an upper room, 
 and tumbling down a broken, uneven stair, had 
 received many wounds, as he lay in his cell at 
 the point of death, and was tortured with griev- 
 ous sufferings, saw in the night an angel appear 
 to him, who washed his wounds, and applied 
 healing ointment to the bruised members of his 
 body. As the effect of this, he found himself on 
 the morrow restored to soundness of health, so 
 that he was not thought to have suffered any 
 harm. But because it would be tedious to go 
 through everything of this kind, let these ex- 
 amples suffice, as a few out of a multitude ; and 
 let it be enough that we do not in striking cases 
 [of miraculous interposition] detract from the 
 truth, while, having so many to choose from, we 
 avoid exciting weariness in the reader. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 How Martin acted tozuards the Emperor 
 Maxim us. 
 
 And here to insert some smaller matters 
 among things so great (although such is the 
 nature of our times in which all things have 
 fallen into decay and corruption, it is almost a 
 pre-eminent virtue for priestly firmness not to 
 
 1 " Nubes," lit. " a cloud.' 
 
 have yielded to royal flattery), when a number 
 of bishops from various parts had assembled to 
 the Emperor Maximus, a man of fierce charac- 
 ter, and at that time elated with the victory hfc 
 had won in the civil wars, and when the dis- 
 graceful flattery of all around the emperor was 
 generally remarked, while the priestly dignity 
 had, with degenerate submissiveness, taken a 
 second place to the royal retinue, in Martin 
 alone, apostolic authority continued to assert 
 itself. For even if he had to make suit to the 
 sovereign for some things, he commanded rather 
 than entreated him ; and although often invited, 
 he kept away from his entertainments, saying 
 that he could not take a place at the table of 
 one who, out of two emperors, had deprived 
 one of his kingdom, and the other of his life. 
 At last, when Maximus maintained that he had 
 not of his own accord assumed the sovereignty, 
 but that he had simply defended by arms the 
 necessary requirements l of the empire, regard to 
 which had been imposed upon him by the sol- 
 diers, according to the Divine appointment, and 
 that the favor of God did not seem wanting to 
 him who, by an event seemingly so incredible, 
 had secured the victory, adding to that the 
 statement that none of his adversaries had been 
 slain except in the open field of battle, at 
 length, Martin, overcome either by his reasoning 
 or his entreaties, came to the royal banquet. 
 The king was wonderfully pleased because he 
 had gained this point. Moreover, there were 
 guests present who had been invited as if to a 
 festival ; men of the highest and most illustrious 
 rank, — the prefect, who was also consul, named 
 Evodius, one of the most righteous men that 
 ever lived ; two courtiers possessed of the great- 
 est power, the brother and uncle of the king, 
 while between these two, the presbyter of Mar- 
 tin had taken his place ; but he himself occupied 
 a seat which was set quite close to the king. 
 About the middle of the banquet, according to 
 custom, one of the servants presented a goblet 
 to the king. He orders it rather to be given to 
 the very holy bishop, expecting and hoping that 
 he should then receive the cup from his right 
 hand. But Martin, when he had drunk, handed 
 the goblet to his own presbyter, as thinking no 
 one worthier to drink next to himself, and hold- 
 ing that it would not be right for him to prefer 
 either the king himself, or those who were next 
 the king, to the presbyter. And the emperor, 
 as well as all those who were then present, ad- 
 mired this conduct so much, that this very thing, 
 by which they had been undervalued, gave them 
 pleasure. The report then ran through the 
 whole palace that Martin had done, at the 
 king's dinner, what no bishop had dared to do 
 
 1 " Regni necessitatera " — an awkward expression. 
 
14 
 
 LIFE OF ST. MARTIN. 
 
 at the banquets of the lowest judges. And 
 Martin predicted to the same Maximus long 
 before, that if he went into Italy to which he 
 then desired to go, waging war, against the 
 Emperor Valentinianus, it would come to pass 
 that he should know he would 2 indeed be victo- 
 rious in the first attack, but would perish a short 
 time afterwards. And we have seen that this 
 did in fact take place. For, on his first arrival, 
 Valentinianus had to betake himself to flight ; 
 but recovering his strength about a year after- 
 wards, Maximus was taken and slain by him 
 within the walls of Aquileia. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Martin has to do both with Angels and Devils. 
 
 It is also well known that angels were very 
 often seen by him, so that they spoke in turns 
 with him in set speech. As to the devil, Martin 
 held him so visible and ever under the power of 
 his eyes, that whether he kept himself in his 
 proper form, or changed himself into different 
 shapes of spiritual wickedness, he was perceived 
 by Martin, under whatever guise he appeared. 
 The devil knew well that he could not escape 
 discovery, and therefore frequently heaped in- 
 sults upon Martin, being unable to beguile him 
 by trickery. On one occasion the devil, hold- 
 ing in his hand the bloody horn of an ox, 
 rushed into Martin's cell with great noise, and 
 holding out to him his bloody right hand, while 
 at the same time he exulted in the crime he 
 had committed, said : " Where, O Martin, is thy 
 power? I have just slain one of your people." 
 Then Martin assembled the brethren, and related 
 to them what the devil had disclosed, while he 
 ordered them carefully to search the several 
 cells in order to discover who had been visited 
 with this calamity. They report that no one of 
 the monks was missing, but that one peasant, 
 hired by them, had gone to the forest to bring 
 home wood in his wagon. Upon hearing this, 
 Martin instructs some of them to go and meet 
 him. On their doing so, the man was found 
 almost dead at no great distance from the mon- 
 astery. Nevertheless, although just drawing his 
 last breath, he made known to the brethren the 
 cause of his wound and death. He said that, 
 while he was drawing tighter the thongs which 
 had got loose on the oxen yoked together, one 
 of the oxen, throwing his head free, had wounded 
 him with his horn in the groin. And not long 
 after the man expired. You 1 see with what 
 judgment of the Lord this power was given to 
 the devil. This was a marvelous feature in 
 
 2 There is considerable confusion in this sentence. 
 1 Halm reads the imperative " videris," " consider." 
 
 Martin that not only on this occasion to which 
 I have specially referred, but on many occasions 
 of the same kind, in fact as often as such things 
 occurred, he perceived them long beforehand, 
 and 2 disclosed the things which had been re- 
 vealed to him to the brethren. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Martin preaches Repentance even to the Devil. 
 
 Now, the devil, while he tried to impose upon 
 the holy man by a thousand injurious arts, often 
 thrust himself upon him in a visible form, but in 
 very various shapes. For sometimes he pre- 
 sented himself to his view changed into the per- 
 son of Jupiter, often into that of Mercury and 
 Minerva. Often, too, were heard words of re- 
 proach, in which the crowd of demons assailed 
 Martin with scurrilous expressions. But know- 
 ing that all were false and groundless, he was 
 not affected by the charges brought against him. 
 Moreover, some of the brethren bore witness 
 that they had heard a demon reproaching Mar- 
 tin in abusive terms, and asking why he had 
 taken back, on their subsequent repentance, 
 certain of the brethren who had, some time 
 previously, lost their baptism by falling into 
 various errors. The demon set forth the crimes 
 of each of them ; but they added that Martin, 
 resisting the devil firmly, answered him, that 
 by-past sins are cleansed away by the leading 
 of a better life, and that through the mercy of 
 God, those are to be absolved from their sins 
 who have given up their evil ways. The devil 
 saying in opposition to this that such guilty men 
 as those referred to did not come within the 
 pale of pardon, and that no mercy was extended 
 by the Lord to those who had once fallen away, 
 Martin is said to have cried out in words to the 
 following effect : " If thou, thyself, wretched 
 being, wouldst but desist from attacking mankind, 
 and even, at this period, when the day of judg- 
 ment is at hand, wouldst only repent of your 
 deeds, I, with a true confidence in the Lord, 
 would promise you the mercy of Christ." 1 O 
 what a holy boldness with respect to the loving- 
 kindness of the Lord, in which, although he 
 could not assert authority, he nevertheless showed 
 the feelings dwelling within him ! And since 
 our discourse has here sprung up concerning 
 the devil and his devices, it does not seem away 
 from the point, although the matter does not 
 
 2 Halm reads " aut sibi nuntiata fratribus indicabat." 
 1 This is a truly noteworthy passage. It anticipates a well- 
 known sentiment of Burns, the national bard of Scotland. In his 
 Address to the Deil, Burns has said that if the great enemy would 
 only " tak a thocht an' men'," he might still have a chance of safety, 
 and this idea seems very much in accordance with the opinion of 
 St. Martin as expressed above. Hornius, however, is very indig- 
 nant on account of it, and exclaims: " Intolerabilis hie Martini 
 error. Nee Sulpicius excusatione sua demit, sed auget. Orig^nes 
 primus ejus erroris author." 
 
LIFE OF ST. MARTIN. 
 
 15 
 
 bear immediately upon Martin, to relate what 
 took place ; both because the virtues of Martin 
 do, to seme extent, appear in the transaction, 
 and the incident, which was worthy of a miracle, 
 will properly be put on record, with the view of 
 furnishing a caution, should anything of a similar 
 character subsequently occur. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 A Case of Diabolic Deception. 
 
 There was a certain man, Claims by name, a 
 most noble youth, who afterwards became a 
 presbyter, and who is now, through his happy 
 departure from this world, numbered among the 
 saints. He, leaving all others, betook himself 
 to Martin, and in a short time became distin- 
 guished for the most exalted faith, and for all 
 sorts of excellence. Now, it came to pass that, 
 when he had erected an abode for himself not 
 far from the monastery of the bishop, and many 
 brethren were staying with him, a certain youth, 
 Anatolius by name, having, under the profession 
 of a monk, falsely assumed every appearance of 
 humility and innocence, came to him, and lived 
 for some time on the common store along with 
 the rest. Then, as time went on, he began to 
 affirm that angels were in» the habit of talking 
 with him. As no one gave any credit to his 
 words, he urged a number of the brethren to 
 believe by certain signs. At length he went to 
 such a length as to declare that angels passed 
 between him and God ; and now he wished that 
 he should be regarded as one of the prophets. 
 Clarus, however, could by no means be induced 
 to believe. He then began to threaten Clarus 
 with the anger of God and present afflictions, 
 because he did not believe one of the saints. 
 At the last, he is related to have burst forth with 
 the following declaration : " Behold, the Lord 
 will this night give me a white robe out of 
 heaven, clothed in which, I will dwell in the 
 midst of you ; and that will be to you a sign 
 that I am the Power of God, inasmuch as I 
 have been presented with the garment of God." 
 Then truly the expectation of all was highly 
 raised by this profession. Accordingly, about the 
 middle of the night, it was seen, by the noise of 
 people moving eagerly about, that the whole 
 monastery in the place was excited. It might 
 be seen, too, that the cell in which the young 
 man referred to lived was glittering with numer- 
 ous lights ; and the whisperings of those moving 
 about in it, as well as a kind of murmur of many 
 voices, could be heard. Then, on silence being 
 secured, the youth coming forth calls one of the 
 brethren, Sabatius by name, to himself, and shows 
 him the robe in which he had been clothed. He 
 
 again, filled with amazement, gathers the rest 
 together, and Clarus himself also runs up ; and 
 a light being obtained, they all carefully inspect 
 the garment. Now, it was of the utmost soft- 
 ness, of marvelous brightness, and of glittering 
 purple, and yet no one could discover what was 
 its nature, or of what sort of fleece it had been 
 formed. However, when it was more minutely 
 examined by the eyes or fingers, it seemed nothing 
 else than a garment. In the meantime, Clarus 
 urges upon the brethren to be earnest in prayer, 
 that the Lord would show them more clearly 
 what it really was. Accordingly, the rest of the 
 night was spent in singing hymns and psalms. 
 But when day broke, Clarus wished to take the 
 young man by the hand, and bring him to Mar- 
 tin, being well aware that he could not be de- 
 ceived by any arts of the devil. Then, indeed, 
 the miserable man began to resist and refuse, 
 and affirmed that he had been forbidden to show 
 himself to Martin. And when they compelled 
 him to go against his will, the garment vanished 
 from among the hands of those who were con- 
 ducting him. Wherefore, who can doubt that 
 this, too, was an illustration of the power of 
 Martin, so that the devil could no longer dis- 
 semble or conceal his own deception, when it 
 was to be submitted to the eyes of Martin? 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Martin is tempted by the Wiles of the Devil. 
 
 It was found, again, that about the same time 
 there was a young man in Spain, who, having by 
 many signs obtained for himself authority among 
 the people, was puffed up to such a pitch that 
 he gave himself out as being Elias. And when 
 multitudes had too readily believed this, he went 
 on to say that he was actually Christ ; and he 
 succeeded so well even in this delusion that a 
 certain bishop named Rufus worshiped him as 
 being the Lord. For so doing, we have seen 
 this bishop at a later date deprived of his office. 
 Many of the brethren have also informed me 
 that at the same time one arose in the East, who 
 boasted that he was John. We may infer from 
 this, since false prophets of such a kind have 
 appeared, that the coming of Antichrist is at 
 hand ; for he is already practicing in these per- 
 sons the mystery of iniquity. And truly I think 
 this point should not be passed over, with what 
 arts the devil about this very time tempted Mar- 
 tin. For, on a certain day, prayer 1 having been 
 previously offered, and the fiend himself being 
 surrounded by a purple light, in order that he 
 might the more easily deceive people by the 
 brilliance of the splendor assumed, clothed also 
 
 1 " Prece " for the usual reading " prae se." 
 
i6 
 
 LIFE OF ST. MARTIN. 
 
 in a royal robe, and with a crown of precious 
 stones and gold encircling his head, his shoes 
 too being inlaid with gold, while he presented a 
 tranquil countenance, and a generally rejoicing 
 aspect, so that no such thought as that he was 
 the devil might be entertained — he stood by 
 the side of Martin as he was praying in his cell. 
 The saint being dazzled by his first appearance, 
 both preserved a long and deep silence. This 
 was first broken by the devil, who said : " Ac- 
 knowledge, Martin, who it is that you behold. 
 I am Christ ; and being just about to descend 
 to earth, I wished first to manifest myself to 
 thee." When Martin kept silence on hearing 
 these words, and gave no answer whatever, the 
 devil dared to repeat his audacious declaration : 
 " Martin, why do you hesitate to believe, when 
 you see? I am Christ." Then Martin, the 
 Spirit revealing the truth to him, that he might 
 understand it was the devil, and not God, re- 
 plied as follows : "The Lord Jesus did not pre- 
 dict that he would come clothed in purple, and 
 with a glittering crown upon his head. I will 
 not believe that Christ has come, unless he ap- 
 pears with that appearance and form in which 
 he suffered, and openly displaying the marks of 
 his wounds upon the cross." On hearing these 
 words, the devil vanished like smoke, and filled 
 the cell with such a disgusting smell, that he left 
 unmistakable evidences of his real character. 
 This event, as I have just related, took place in 
 the way which I have stated, and my informa- 
 tion regarding it was derived from the lips of 
 Martin himself; therefore let no one regard it 
 as fabulous. 2 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Intercourse of Sulpitius with Martin. 
 
 For since I, having long heard accounts of 
 his faith, life and virtues, burned with a desire 
 of knowing him, I undertook what was to me a 
 pleasant journey for the purpose of seeing him. 
 At the same time, because already my mind was 
 inflamed with the desire of writing his life, I 
 obtained my information partly from himself, in 
 so far as I could venture to question him, and 
 partly from those who had lived with him, or 
 well knew the facts of the case. And at this 
 time it is scarcely credible with what humility 
 and with what kindness he received me ; while 
 he cordially wished me joy, and rejoiced in the 
 Lord that he had been held in such high estima- 
 tion by me that I had undertaken a journey 
 owing to my desire of seeing him. Unworthy 
 me ! (in fact, I hardly dare acknowledge it), that 
 
 2 In spite of the combined testimony of Martin and Sulpitius 
 here referred to, few will have any doubt as to the real character of 
 this narrative. 
 
 he should have deigned to admit me to fellow- 
 ship with him ! He went so far as in person to 
 present me with water to wash my hands, and 
 at eventide he himself washed my feet ; nor had 
 I sufficient courage to resist or oppose his doing 
 so. In fact, I felt so overcome by the authority 
 he unconsciously exerted, that I deemed it un- 
 lawful to do anything but acquiesce in his ar- 
 rangements. His conversation with me was all 
 directed to such points as the following : that the 
 allurements of this world and secular burdens 
 were to be abandoned in order that we might 
 be free and unencumbered in following the Lord 
 Jesus ; and he pressed upon me as an admirable 
 example in present circumstances the conduct 
 of that distinguished man Paulinus, of whom I 
 have made mention above. Martin declared of 
 him that, by parting with his great possessions 
 and following Christ, as he did, he showed him- 
 self almost the only one who in these times had 
 fully obeyed the precepts of the Gospel. He 
 insisted strongly that that was the man who 
 should be made the object of our imitation, 
 adding that the present age was fortunate in 
 possessing such a model of faith and virtue. 
 For Paulinus, being rich and having many pos- 
 sessions, by selling them all and giving them to 
 the poor according to the expressed will of the 
 Lord, had, he said, made possible by actual 
 proof what appeared ^impossible of accomplish- 
 ment. What power and dignity there were in 
 Martin's words and conversation ! How active 
 he was, how practical, and how prompt and 
 ready in solving questions connected with 
 Scripture ! And because I know that many are 
 incredulous on this point, — for indeed I have met 
 with persons who did not believe me when I re- 
 lated such things, — I call to witness Jesus, and 
 our common hope as Christians, that I never 
 heard from any other lips than those of Martin 
 such exhibitions of knowledge and genius, or 
 such specimens of good and pure speech. But 
 yet, how insignificant is all such praise when 
 compared with the virtues which he possessed ! 
 Still, it is remarkable that' in a man who had no 
 claim to be called learned, even this attribute 
 [of high intelligence] was not wanting. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Words cannot describe the Excellences of Martin. 
 
 But now my book must be brought to an end, 
 and my discourse finished. This is not because 
 all that was worthy of being said concerning 
 Martin is now exhausted, but because I, just as 
 sluggish poets grow less careful towards the end 
 of their work, give over, being baffled by the 
 immensity of the matter. For, although his 
 
LIFE OF ST. MARTIN. 
 
 17 
 
 outward deeds could in some sort of way be set 
 forth in words, no language, I truly own, can 
 ever be capable of describing his inner life and 
 daily conduct, and his mind always bent upon 
 the things of heaven. No one can adequately 
 make known his perseverance and self-mastery 
 in abstinence and fastings, or his power in 
 watchings and prayers, along with the nights, as 
 well as days, which were spent by him, while not 
 a moment was separated from the service of 
 God, either for indulging in ease, or engaging in 
 business. But, in fact, he did not indulge either 
 in food or sleep, except in so far as the necessi- 
 ties of nature required. I freely confess that, 
 if, as the saying is, Homer himself were to as- 
 cend from the shades below, he could not do 
 justice to this subject in words ; to such an ex- 
 tent did all excellences surpass in Martin the 
 possibility of being embodied in language. Never 
 did a single hour or moment pass in which he 
 was not either actually engaged in prayer ; or, 
 if it happened that he was occupied with some- 
 thing else, still he never let his mind loose from 
 prayer. In truth, just as it is the custom of 
 blacksmiths, in the midst of their work to beat 
 their own anvil as a sort of relief to the laborer, 
 so Martin even when he appeared to be doing 
 something else, was still engaged in prayer. O 
 truly blessed man in whom there was no guile — 
 judging no man, condemning no man, returning 
 evil for evil to no man ! He displayed indeed 
 such marvelous patience in the endurance of 
 injuries, that even when he was chief 1 priest, he 
 allowed himself to be wronged by the lowest 
 clerics with impunity ; nor did he either remove 
 them from the office on account of such con- 
 duct, or, as far as in him lay, repel them from a 
 place in his affection. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Wonderful Piety of Martin. 
 
 No one ever saw him enraged, or excited, or 
 lamenting, or laughing ; he was always one and 
 the same : displaying a kind of heavenly happi- 
 ness in his countenance, he seemed to have 
 passed the ordinary limits of human nature. 
 Never was there any word on his lips but Christ, 
 
 1 " Summus sacerdos " : " that is," remarks Hornius, " bishop. 
 They were also in those ages styled Popes (Papae). This is clear 
 from Cyprian, Jerome, and others of a much later age." 
 
 and never was there a feeling in his heart except 
 piety, peace, and tender mercy. Frequently, too, 
 he used to weep for the sins of those who showed 
 themselves his revilers — those who, as he led 
 his retired and tranquil life, slandered him with 
 poisoned tongue and a viper's mouth. And truly 
 we have had experience of some who were envi- 
 ous of his virtues and his life — who really hated 
 in him what they did not see in themselves, 
 and what they had not power to imitate. And 
 — O wickedness worthy of deepest grief and 
 groans ! — some of his calumniators, although 
 very few, some of his maligners, I say, were re- 
 ported to be no others than bishops ! Here, 
 however, it is not necessary to name any one, 
 although a good many of these people are still 
 venting 1 their spleen against myself. I shall 
 deem it sufficient that, if any one of them reads 
 this account, and perceives that he is himself 
 pointed at, he may have the grace to blush. But 
 if, on the other hand, he shows anger, he will, 
 by that very fact, own that he is among those 
 spoken of, though all the time perhaps I have 
 been thinking of some other person. I shall, 
 however, by no means feel ashamed if any peo- 
 ple of that sort include myself in their hatred 
 along with such a man as Martin. I am quite 
 persuaded of this, that the present little work 
 will give pleasure to all truly good men. And I 
 shall only say further that, if any one read this 
 narrative in an unbelieving spirit, he himself will 
 fall into sin. I am conscious to myself that I 
 have been induced by belief in the facts, and by 
 the love of Christ, to write these things ; and 
 that, in doing so, I have set forth what is well 
 known, and recorded what is true ; and, as I 
 trust, that man will have a reward prepared by 
 God, not who shall read these things, but who 
 shall believe them. 2 
 
 1 Lit. " are barking round about." 
 
 2 It seems extremely difficult (to recur to the point once more), 
 after reading this account of St. Martin by Sulpitius, to form any 
 certain conclusion regarding it. The writer so frequently and sol- 
 emnly assures us of his good faith, and there is such a verisimilitude 
 about the style, that it appears impossible to accept the theory of 
 willful deception on the part of the writer. And then, he was so 
 intimately acquainted with the subject of his narrative, that he 
 could hardly have accepted fictions for facts, or failed in his estimate 
 of the friend he so much admired and loved. Altogether, this Life 
 of St. Martin seems to bring before us one of the puzzles of history. 
 The saint himself must evidently have been a very extraordinary 
 man, to impress one of the talents and learning of Sulpitius so 
 remarkably as he did; but it is extremely hard to say how far the 
 miraculous narratives, which enter so largely into the account before 
 us, were due to pure invention, or unconscious hallucination. Milner 
 remarks {Church History, II. 193), " I should be ashamed, as well 
 as think the labor ill spent, to recite the stories at length which 
 Sulpitius gives us." See, on the other side, Cardinal Newman's 
 Essays on Miracles, p. 127, 209, &c. 
 
THE LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 aXKc 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 TO EUSEBIUS. 
 
 Against Some Envious Assailants of Martin. 
 
 Yesterday a number of monks having come 
 to me, it happened that amid endless fables, and 
 much tiresome discourse, mention was made of 
 the little work which I published concerning the 
 life of that saintly man Martin, and I was most 
 happy to hear that it was being eagerly and care- 
 fully read by multitudes. In the meantime, how- 
 ever, I was told that a certain person, under the 
 influence of an evil spirit, had asked why Martin, 
 who was said to have raised the dead and to 
 have rescued houses from the flames, had him- 
 self recently become subject to the power of fire, 
 and thus been exposed to suffering of a danger- 
 ous character. Wretched man, whoever he is, 
 that expressed himself thus ! We recognize his 
 perfidious talk in the words of the Jews of old, 
 who reviled the Lord, when hanging upon the 
 cross, in the following terms : " He saved others ; 
 himself he cannot save." * Truly it is clear that, 
 whoever be the person referred to, if he had 
 lived in those times, he would have been quite 
 prepared to speak against the Lord in these 
 terms, inasmuch as he blasphemes a saint of the 
 Lord, after a like fashion. How then, I ask 
 thee, whosoever thou art, how does the case 
 stand? Was Martin really not possessed of 
 power, and not a partaker of holiness, because 
 he became exposed to danger from fire? O 
 thou blessed man, and in all things like to the 
 Apostles, even in the reproaches which are thus 
 heaped upon thee ! Assuredly those Gentiles 
 are reported to have entertained the same sort 
 of thought respecting Paul also, when the viper 
 had bitten him, for they said, " This man must 
 be a murderer, whom, although saved from the 
 sea, the fates do not permit to live." 2 But he, 
 shaking off the viper into the fire, suffered no 
 harm. They, however, imagined that he would 
 suddenly fall down, and speedily die ; but when 
 they saw that no harm befell him, changing their 
 minds, they said that he was a God. But, O 
 
 1 St. Matt, xxvii. 42. 
 
 2 Acts xxviii. 4. 
 
 thou most miserable of men, you ought, even 
 from that example to have yourself been con- 
 vinced of your falsity ; so that, if it had proved 
 a stumbling-block to thee that Martin appeared 
 touched by the flame of fire, you should, on 
 the other hand, have ascribed his being merely 
 touched to his merits and power, because, though 
 surrounded by flames, he did not perish. For 
 acknowledge, thou miserable man, acknowledge 
 what you seem ignorant of, that almost all the 
 saints have been more remarkable for 3 the dangers 
 they encountered, than even for the virtues they 
 displayed. I see, indeed, Peter strong in faith, 
 walking over the waves of the sea, in opposition 
 to the nature of things, and that he pressed the 
 unstable waters with his footprints. But not 
 on that account does the preacher of the Gen- 
 tiles 4 seem to me a smaller man, whom the 
 waves swallowed up ; and, after three days s and 
 three nights, the water restored him emerging 
 from the deep. Nay, I am almost inclined to 
 think that it was a greater thing to have lived in 
 the deep, than to have walked along the depths of 
 the sea. But, thou foolish man, you had not, as 
 I suppose, read these things ; or, having read 
 them, had not understood them. For the 
 blessed Evangelist would not have recorded in 
 holy writ an incident of that kind — under divine 
 guidance — (except that, from such cases, the 
 human mind might be instructed as to the dan- 
 gers connected with shipwrecks and serpents !) 
 and, as the Apostle relates, who gloried in his 
 nakedness, and hunger, and perils from robbers, 
 all these things are indeed to be endured in 
 common by holy men, but that it has always 
 been the chief excellence of the righteous in 
 enduring and conquering such things, while amid 
 all their trials, being patient and ever uncon- 
 querable, they overcame them all the more 
 courageously, the heavier was the burden which 
 they had to bear. Hence this event which is 
 ascribed to the infirmity of Martin is, in reality, 
 full of dignity and glory, since indeed, being tried 
 
 3 " magis insignes periculorum suorum " : such is the construc- 
 tion of insignis with later writers. 
 
 4 This refers to St. Paul, being an echo of the Apostle's own 
 words in Rom. xi. 13 — eyi> iQvuv ojtocttoAo?. 
 
 The writer here supposes that St. Paul was sunk for three days 
 and three nights in the sea — a mistaken inference from 2 Cor. xi. 25. 
 The construction of the very long sentence which soon follows is 
 very confused, and has not been rigidly followed in our translation. 
 
 
LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Undoubted). 
 
 19 
 
 by a most dangerous calamity, he came forth a 
 conqueror. But let no one wonder that the 
 incident referred to was omitted by me in that 
 treatise which I wrote concerning his life, since 
 in that very work I openly acknowledged that I 
 had not embraced all his acts ; and that for the 
 good reason that, if I had been minded to nar- 
 rate them all, I must have presented an enor- 
 mous volume to my readers. And indeed, his 
 achievments were not of so limited a number 
 that they could all be comprehended in a book. 
 Nevertheless, I shall not leave this incident, 
 about which a question has arisen, to remain in 
 obscurity, but shall relate the whole affair as it 
 occurred, lest I should appear perchance to have 
 intentionally passed over that which might be 
 put forward in calumniation of the saintly man. 
 Martin having, about the middle of winter, 
 come to a certain parish, 6 according to the usual 
 custom for the bishops to visit the churches in 
 the diocese, the clerics had prepared an abode 
 for him in the private 7 part of the church, and 
 had kindled a large fire beneath the floor which 
 was decayed and very thin. 8 They also erected 
 for him a couch consisting of a large amount of 
 straw. Then, when Martin betook himself to 
 rest, he was annoyed with the softness of the too 
 luxurious bed, inasmuch as he had been accus- 
 tomed to lie on the bare ground with only a piece 
 of sackcloth stretched over him. Accordingly, 
 influenced by the injury which had, as it were, 
 been done him, he threw aside the whole of the 
 straw. Now, it so happened that part of the straw 
 which he had thus removed fell upon the stove. 
 He himself, in the meantime, rested, as was his 
 wont, upon the bare ground, tired out by his 
 long journey. About midnight, the fire bursting 
 up through the stove which, as I have said, was 
 far from sound, laid hold of the dry straw. 
 Martin, being wakened out of sleep by this 
 unexpected occurrence, and being prevented by 
 the pressing danger, but chiefly, as he afterwards 
 related, by the snares and urgency of the devil, 
 was longer than he ought to have been in having 
 recourse to the aid of prayer. For, desiring to 
 get outside, he struggled long and laboriously 
 with the bolt by which he had secured the door. 
 Ere long he perceived that he was surrounded 
 by a fearful conflagration ; and the fire had even 
 laid hold of the garment with which he was 
 clothed. At length recovering his habitual con- 
 viction that his safety lay not in flight, but in the 
 Lord, and seizing the shield of faith and prayer, 
 
 6 " ad dicecesim quandam " : it seems certain that diocesis has 
 here the meaning of " parish." 
 
 7 "in secretario ecclesiae": it is very difficult to sav what is 
 here meant by " secretarium." It appears from Dial. II. 1, that 
 there might be two or more secretario. in one church. 
 
 8 "pavimento": this word usually means " a floor," or " pave- 
 ment," but some take it here to be the same as fornax. This, 
 however, can hardly be the case; and the meaning probably is that 
 the church was heated, as the baths were, by means of a hypo- 
 caustum, or flue running below the pavement. 
 
 committing himself entirely to the Lord, he lay 
 down in the midst of the flames. Then truly, 
 the fire having been removed by divine interpo- 
 sition, he continued to pray amid a circle of 
 flames that did him no harm. But the monks, 
 who were before the door, hearing the sound of 
 the crackling and struggling fire, broke open the 
 barred door ; and, the fire being extinguished, 
 they brought forth Martin from the midst of the 
 flames, all the time supposing that he must ere 
 then have been burnt to ashes by a fire of so 
 long continuance. Now, as the Lord is my 
 witness, he himself related to me, and not with- 
 out groans, confessed that he was in this matter 
 beguiled by the arts of the devil ; in that, when 
 roused from sleep, he did not take the wise 
 course of repelling the danger by means of faith 
 and prayer. He also added that the flames 
 raged around him all the time that, with a dis- 
 tempered mind, he strove to throw open the 
 door. But he declared that as soon as he again 
 sought assistance from the cross, and tried the 
 weapons of prayer, the central flames gave way, 
 and that he then felt them shedding a dewy 
 refreshment over him, after having just experi- 
 enced how cruelly they burned him. Consider- 
 ing all which, let every one who reads this letter 
 understand that Martin was indeed tried by 
 that danger, but passed through it with true 
 acceptance. a 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 TO THE DEACON AURELIUS. 
 
 Sulpitius has a Vision of St. Martin. 
 
 Sulpitius Severus to Aurelius the Deacon 
 sendeth greeting, — 1 
 
 After you had departed from me in the morn- 
 ing, I was sitting alone in my cell ; and there 
 occurred to me, as often happens, that hope of 
 the future which I cherish, along with a weari- 
 ness of the present world, a terror of judgment, 
 a fear of punishment, and, as a consequence, in- 
 deed as the source from which the whole train of 
 thought had flowed, a remembrance of my sins, 
 which had rendered me worn and miserable. 
 Then, after I had placed on my couch my limbs 
 fatigued with the anguish of my mind, sleep crept 
 upon me, as frequently happens from melan- 
 choly; and such sleep, as it is always somewhat 
 light and uncertain in the morning hours, so it 
 pervaded my members only in a hovering and 
 doubtful manner. Thus it happens, what does 
 not occur in a different kind of slumber, that 
 one can feel he is dreaming while almost awake. 
 In these circumstances, I seemed suddenly to 
 see St. Martin appear to me in the character of 
 
 9 Halm here inserts " vere." 
 
 1 This salutation is omitted by Halm. 
 
20 
 
 LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Undoubted). 
 
 a bishop, clothed in a white robe, with a coun- 
 tenance as of fire, with eyes like stars, and with 
 purple hair. 2 He thus appeared to me with 
 that aspect and form of body which I had 
 known, so that I find it almost difficult to say 
 what I mean — he could not be steadfastly be- 
 held, though he could be clearly recognized. 
 Well, directing a gentle smile towards me, he 
 held out in his right hand the small treatise 
 which I had written concerning his life. I, for 
 my part, embraced his sacred knees, and begged 
 for his blessing according to custom. Upon 
 this, I felt his hand placed on my head with the 
 sweetest touch, while, amid the solemn words of 
 benediction, he repeated again and again the 
 name of the cross so familiar to his lips. Ere 
 long, while my eyes were earnestly fixed upon 
 him, and when I could not satisfy myself with 
 gazing upon his countenance, he was suddenly 
 taken away from me and raised on high. At 
 last, having passed through the vast expanse of 
 the air, while my straining eyes followed him 
 ascending in a rapidly moving cloud, he could 
 no longer be seen by me gazing after him. And 
 not long after, I saw the holy presbyter Clarus, 
 a disciple of Martin's who had lately died, as- 
 cend in the same way as I had seen his master. 
 I, impudently desiring to follow, while I aim at 
 and strive after such lofty steps, suddenly wake 
 up ; and, being roused from sleep, I had begun 
 to rejoice over the vision, when a boy, a servant 
 in the family, enters to me with a countenance 
 sadder than is usual with one who gives utter- 
 ance to his grief in words. "What," I enquire 
 of him, " do you wish to tell me with so melan- 
 choly an aspect?" "Two monks," he replied, 
 " have just been here from Tours, and they have 
 brought word that Martin is dead." I confess 
 that I was cut to the heart ; and bursting into 
 tears, I wept most abundantly. Nay, even now, 
 as I write these things to you, brother, my tears 
 are flowing, and I find no consolation for my all 
 but unbearable sorrow. And I should wish you, 
 when this news reaches you, to be a partaker in my 
 grief, as you were a sharer with me in his love. 
 Come then, I beg of you, to me without delay, 
 that we may mourn in common him whom in 
 common we love. And yet I am well aware 
 that such a man ought not to be mourned over, 
 to whom, after his victory and triumph over the 
 world, there has now at last been given the 
 crown of righteousness. Nevertheless, I cannot 
 so command myself as to keep from grieving. 
 I have, no doubt, sent on before me one who 
 will plead my cause in heaven, but I have, at 
 the same time, lost my great source of con- 
 solation in this present life ; yet if grief would 
 yield to the influence of reason, I certainly ought 
 
 2 " crine purpureo ' 
 which is intended. 
 
 it is impossible to tell the exact color 
 
 to rejoice. For he is now mingling among the 
 Apostles and Prophets, and (with all respect for 
 the saints on high be it said) he is second to 
 no one in that assembly of the righteous as I 
 firmly hope, believe, and trust, being joined es- 
 pecially to those who washed their robes in the 
 blood of the 3 Lamb. He now follows the Lamb 
 as his guide, free from all spot of defilement. 
 For although the character 4 of our times could 
 not ensure him the honor of martyrdom, yet he 
 will not remain destitute of the glory of a martyr, 
 because both by vow and virtues he was alike 
 able and willing to be a martyr. But if he had 
 been permitted, in the times of Nero and of 
 Decius, 5 to take part in the struggle which then 
 went on, I take to witness the God of heaven 
 and earth that he would freely have submitted 6 
 to the rack of torture, and readily surrendered 
 himself to the flames : yea, worthy of being com- 
 pared to the illustrious Hebrew youths, amid the 
 circling flames, and though in the very midst of 
 the furnace, he would have sung a hymn of the 
 Lord. But if perchance it had pleased the per- 
 secutor to inflict upon him the punishment which 
 Isaiah endured, he would never have shown 
 himself inferior to the prophet, nor would have 
 shrunk from having his members torn in pieces 
 by saws and swords. And if impious fury had 
 preferred to drive the blessed man over precip- 
 itous rocks or steep mountains, I maintain that, 
 clinging 7 to the testimony of truth he would 
 willingly have fallen. But if, after the example 
 of the teacher of the Gentiles, 8 as indeed often 
 happened, he had been included among other 
 victims who were condemned 9 to die by the 
 sword, he would have been foremost to urge on 
 the executioner to his work that he might obtain 
 the crown 10 of blood. And, in truth, far from 
 shrinking from a confession of the Lord, in the 
 face of all those penalties and punishments, 
 which frequently prove too much for human in- 
 firmity, he would have stood so immovable as to 
 have smiled with joy and gladness over the suf- 
 ferings and torments he endured, whatever 
 might have been the tortures inflicted upon 
 him. But although he did in fact suffer none 
 of these things, yet he fully attained to the 
 honor of martyrdom without shedding his blood. 
 For what agonies of human sufferings did he not 
 endure in behalf of the hope of eternal life, in 
 hunger, in watchings, in nakedness, in fastings, 
 
 3 Compare Rev. vii. 14. 
 
 4 As being peaceful, the imperial power having now passed into 
 the hands of Christians. 
 
 B Roman emperor, a.d. 249-251 ; his full name was C. Messius 
 Quintus Trajanus Decius. 
 
 " equileum ascendisset ": lit. "would have mounted the 
 wooden horse," an instrument of torture. 
 
 " Some read " perhibeo confisus testimonium veritati," and 
 others " veritatis"; in either case, the construction is confused and 
 irregular. 
 
 8 St. Paul is referred to: tradition bears that he was beheaded. 
 
 9 A late use of the verb defiutare. 
 
 10 i.e. martyrdom, " palmam sanguinis." 
 
LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Undoubted). 
 
 2 I 
 
 in reproachings of the malignant, in persecutions 
 of the wicked, in care for the weak, in anxiety for 
 those in danger ? For who ever suffered but Mar- 
 tin suffered along with him? Who was made to 
 stumble and he burnt not? Who perished, and he 
 did not mourn deeply ? Besides those daily strug- 
 gles which he carried on against the various con- 
 flicts with human and spiritual wickedness, while 
 invariably, as he was assailed with divers temp- 
 tations, there prevailed in his case fortitude in 
 conquering, patience in waiting, and placidity in 
 enduring. O man, truly indescribable in piety, 
 mercy, love, which daily grows cold even in 
 holy men through the coldness of the world, but 
 which in his case increased onwards to the end, 
 and endured from day to day ! I, for my part, 
 had the happiness of enjoying this grace in him 
 even in an eminent degree, for he loved me in a 
 special manner, though I was far from meriting 
 such affection. And, on the remembrance, yet 
 again my tears burst forth, while groans issue 
 from the bottom of my heart. In what man 
 shall I for the future find such repose for my 
 spirit as I did in him? and in whose love shall 
 I enjoy like consolation? Wretched being that 
 I am, sunk in affliction, can I ever, if life be 
 spared me, cease to lament that I have sur- 
 vived Martin ? Shall there in future be to me 
 any pleasure in life, or any day or hour free 
 from tears ; or can I ever, my dearest brother, 
 make mention of him to you without lamenta- 
 tion? And yet, in conversing with you, can I 
 ever talk of any other subject than him? But 
 why do I stir you up to tears and lamentations ? 
 So I now desire you to be comforted, although 
 I am unable to console myself. He will not be 
 absent from us ; believe me, he will never, never 
 forsake us, but will be present with us as we 
 discourse regarding him, and will be near to us 
 as we pray ; and the happiness which he has 
 even to-day deigned to bestow, even that of 
 seeing him in his glory, he will frequently in 
 future afford ; and he will protect us, as he did 
 but a little while ago, with his unceasing bene- 
 diction. Then again, according to the arrange- 
 ment of the vision, he showed that heaven was 
 open to those following him, and taught us to 
 what we ought to follow him ; he instructed us 
 to what objects our hope should be directed, 
 and to what attainment our mind should be 
 turned. Yet, my brother, what is to be done ? 
 For, as I am myself well aware, I shall never be 
 able to climb that difficult ascent, and penetrate 
 into those blessed regions. To such a degree 
 does a miserable burden press me down ; and 
 while I cannot, through the load of sin which 
 overwhelms me, secure an ascent to heaven, the 
 cruel pressure rather sinks me in my misery to 
 the place of despair. 11 Nevertheless, hope re- 
 
 mains, one last and solitary hope, that, what I 
 cannot obtain of myself, I may, at any rate, be 
 thought worthy of, through the prayers of Martin 
 in my behalf. But why, brother, should I longer 
 occupy your time with a letter which has turned 
 out so garrulous, and thus delay you from coming 
 to me? At the same time, my page being now 
 filled, can admit no more. This, however, was 
 my object in prolonging my discourse to a some- 
 what undue extent, that, since this letter con- 
 veys to you a message of sorrow, it might also 
 furnish you with consolation, through my sort of 
 friendly conversation with you. 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 TO BASSULA, HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW. 
 
 How St. Martin passed from this Life to Life 
 Eternal. 
 
 Sulpitius Severus to Bassula, his venerable 
 parent, sendeth greeting. 
 
 If it were lawful that parents should be sum- 
 moned to court by their children, clearly I might 
 drag you with a righteous thong 1 before the tri- 
 bunal of the praetor, on a charge of robbery and 
 plunder. For why should I not complain of the 
 injury which I have suffered at your hands? 
 You have left me no little bit of writing at home, 
 no book, not even a letter — to such a degree 
 do you play the thief with all such things and 
 publish them to the world. If I write anything 
 in familiar style to a friend ; if, as I amuse my- 
 self I dictate anything with the wish at the same 
 time that it should be kept private, all such things 
 seem to reach you almost before they have been 
 written or spoken. Surely you have my secre- 
 taries 2 in your 3 debt, since through them any 
 trifles I compose are made known to you. And 
 yet I cannot be moved with anger against them 
 if they really obey you, and have invaded my 
 rights under the special influence of your gener- 
 osity to them, and ever bear in mind that they 
 belong to you rather than to me. Yes, thou 
 alone art the culprit — thou alone art to blame — 
 inasmuch as you both lay your snares for me, 
 and cajole them with your trickery, so that with- 
 out making any 4 selection, pieces written famil- 
 iarly, or let out of hand without care, are sent 
 to thee quite unelaborated and unpolished. For, 
 to say nothing about other writings, I beg to ask 
 how that letter could reach you so speedily, which 
 I recently wrote to Aurelius the Deacon. For, 
 
 1 Instead of " justo loro," Halm reads, " justo dolore," i.e. " with 
 just resentment." 
 
 2 "notarios": shorthand writers, who wrote from dictation. 
 
 3 Halm here reads " obarratos," with what sense I know not: 
 the reading " ob«eratos," followed in the text seems to yield a very- 
 good meaning. 
 
 4 The reading " sine dilectu ullo," adopted by Halm, seems pref- 
 erable to the old reading, " sine delicto ullo." 
 
22 
 
 LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Undoubted). 
 
 as I was situated at Toulouse, 5 while you .were 
 dwelling at Treves, and were so far distant from 
 your native land, owing to the anxiety felt on 
 account of your son, what opportunity, I should 
 like to know, did you avail yourself of, to get 
 hold of that familiar 6 epistle? For I have re- 
 ceived your letter in which you write that I 
 ought in the same epistle in which I made men- 
 tion of the death of our master, Martin, to have 
 described the manner in which that saintly man 
 left this world. As if, indeed, I had either given 
 forth that epistle with the view of its being read 
 by any other except him to whom it purported 
 to be sent ; or as if I were fated to undertake 
 so great a work as that all things which should 
 be known respecting Martin are to be made 
 public through me particularly as the writer. 
 Therefore, if you desire to learn anything con- 
 cerning the end of the saintly bishop, you should 
 direct your enquiries rather to those who were 
 present when his death occurred. I for my part 
 have resolved to write nothing to you lest you 
 publish me 7 everywhere. Nevertheless if you 
 pledge your word that you will read to no one 
 what I send you, I shall satisfy your desire in a 
 few words. Accordingly I shall communicate 8 
 to you the following particulars which are com- 
 prised within my own knowledge. 
 
 I have to state, then, that Martin was aware 
 of the period of his own death long before it 
 occurred, and told the brethren that his depart- 
 ure from the body was at hand. In the mean- 
 time, a reason sprang up which led him to visit 
 the church at Condate. a For, as the clerics of 
 that church were at variance among themselves, 
 Martin, wishing to restore peace, although he 
 well knew that the end of his own days was at 
 hand, yet he did not shrink from undertaking 
 the journey, with such an object in view. He 
 did, in fact, think that this would be an excellent 
 crown to set upon his virtues, if he should leave 
 behind him peace restored to a church. Thus, 
 then, having set out with that very numerous 
 and holy crowd of disciples who usually accom- 
 panied him, he perceives in a river a number of 
 water-fowl busy in capturing fishes, and notices 
 that a voracious appetite was urging them on to 
 frequent seizures of their prey. " This," ex- 
 claimed he, " is a picture of how the demons 
 act : they lie in wait for the unwary and capture 
 
 5 The identity of Tolosa, mentioned in the text with the modern 
 Toulouse, is uncertain. 
 
 c Of course, this is all jocular, and shows the best relations as 
 existing between Sulpitius and his mother-in-law. 
 
 7 There is clearly some affectation in the horror which Sulpitius 
 expresses in this and other passages at the thought of his writings 
 being published. It is obvious that he derived gratification from the 
 fact of their being widely read. 
 
 8 " praestabo his participem- " : the construction is peculiar, but 
 the meaning is obvious. 
 
 9 There were several towns of this name in Gaul. The one 
 probably here referred to was on the road from Augustodunum 
 (Autun) to Paris. It corresponds to the modern Cosne, at the junc- 
 tion of the stream Nonain with the river Loire. 
 
 them before they know it : they devour their 
 victims when taken, and they can never be satis- 
 fied with what they have devoured." Then 
 Martin, with a miraculous 10 power in his words, 
 commands the birds to leave the pool in which 
 they were swimming, and to betake themselves 
 to dry and desert regions ; .using with respect to 
 those birds that very same authority with which 
 he had been accustomed to put demons to 
 flight. Accordingly, gathering themselves to- 
 gether, all those birds formed a single body, and 
 leaving the river, they made for the mountains 
 and woods, to no small wonder of many who 
 perceived such power in Martin that he could 
 even rule the birds. Having then delayed some 
 time in that village or church to which he had 
 gone, and peace having been restored among 
 the clerics, when he was now meditating a re- 
 turn to his monastery, he began suddenly to 
 fail in bodily strength, and, assembling the 
 brethren, he told them that he was on the point 
 of dissolution. Then indeed, sorrow and grief 
 took possession of all, and there was but one 
 voice of them lamenting, and saying : " AYhy, 
 dear father, will you leave us? Or to whom 
 can you commit us in our desolation ? Fierce 
 wolves will speedily attack thy flock, and who, 
 when the shepherd has been smitten, will save 
 us u from their bites? We know, indeed, that 
 you desire to be with Christ ; but thy reward 
 above is safe, and will not be diminished by 
 being delayed ; rather have pity upon us, whom 
 you are leaving desolate." Then Martin, affected 
 by these lamentations, as he was always, in truth, 
 full 12 of compassion, is said to have burst into 
 tears ; and, turning to the Lord, he replied to 
 those weeping round him only in the following 
 words, " O Lord, if I am still necessary to 
 thy people, I do not shrink from toil : thy will 
 be done." Thus hovering as he did between 13 
 desire and love, he almost doubted which he 
 preferred ; for he neither wished to leave us, 
 nor to be longer separated from Christ. How- 
 ever, he placed no weight upon his own wishes, 
 nor reserved anything to his own will, but com- 
 mitted himself wholly to the will and power of 
 the Lord. Do you not think you hear him 
 speaking in the following few words which I re- 
 peat? "Terrible, indeed, Lord, is the struggle 
 of bodily warfare, and surely it is now enough 
 that I have continued the fight till now ; but, if 
 thou dost command me still to persevere in the 
 same toil for the defense M of thy flock, I do not 
 refuse, nor do I plead against such an appoint- 
 
 10 " potenti virtute verborum": Halm reads simply " potenli 
 verbo." 
 
 11 A singular and obviously corrupt reading is " quis eos a 
 morsibus nostris prohibebit?" Halm's reading has been followed 
 in the text. 
 
 12 Lit. " as he always flowed with bowels of mercy in the Lord." 
 
 13 " spes " seems here to mean " longing of heart." 
 
 14 "pro castris tuorum." 
 
LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Undoubted). 
 
 2 3 
 
 ment my declining years. Wholly given to 
 thee, I will fulfill whatever duties thou dost as- 
 sign me, and I will serve under thy standard as 
 long as thou shalt prescribe. Yea, although re- 
 lease is sweet to an old man after lengthened 
 toil, yet my mind is a conqueror over my years, 
 and I have no desire 15 to yield to old age. But 
 if now thou art merciful to my many years, 
 good, O Lord, is thy will to me ; and thou thy- 
 self wilt guard over those for whose safety I fear." 
 O man, whom no language can describe, uncon- 
 quered by toil, and unconquerable even by 
 death, who didst show no personal preference 
 for either alternative, and who didst neither fear 
 to die nor refuse to live ! Accordingly, though 
 he was for some days under the influence of a 
 strong fever, he nevertheless did not abandon 
 the work of God. Continuing in supplications 
 and watchings through whole nights, he com- 
 pelled his worn-out limbs to do service to his 
 spirit as he lay on his glorious 1G couch upon 
 sackcloth and ashes. And when his disciples 
 begged of him that at least he should allow 
 some common straw to be placed beneath him, 
 he replied : " It is not fitting that a Christian 
 should die except among ashes ; and I have 
 sinned if I leave you a different example." 
 However, with his hands and eyes steadfastly 
 directed towards heaven, he never released his 
 unconquerable spirit from prayer. And on 
 being asked by the presbyters who had then 
 gathered round him, to relieve his body a little 
 by a change of side, he exclaimed : " Allow me, 
 dear brother, to fix my looks rather on heaven 
 than on earth, so that my spirit which is just 
 about to depart on its own journey may be di- 
 rected towards the Lord." Having spoken 
 these words, he saw the devil standing close at 
 hand, and exclaimed : " Why do you stand here, 
 thou bloody monster? Thou shalt find nothing 
 in me, thou deadly one : Abraham's bosom is 
 about to receive me." 
 
 As he uttered these words, his spirit fled ; and 
 those who were there present have testified to 
 us that they saw his face as if it had been the 
 face u of an angel. His limbs too appeared white 
 as snow, so that people exclaimed, " Who would 
 ever believe that man to be clothed in sackcloth, 
 or who would imagine that he was enveloped 
 with ashes? " For even then he presented such 
 an appearance, as if he had been manifested in 
 
 13 Or, "I am not one to yield," nesci'us cedere. 
 
 16 " nobili illo strata suo"; nobilis in one sense, though so 
 humble in another. 
 
 17 There is a great variety of readings here; Halm has been 
 followed in the text. 
 
 the glory of the future resurrection, and with 
 the nature of a body which had been changed. 
 But it is hardly credible what a multitude of 
 human beings assembled at the performance of 
 his funeral rites : the whole city poured forth 
 to meet his body ; all the inhabitants of the dis- 
 trict and villages, along with many also from the 
 neighboring cities, attended. O how great was 
 the grief of all ! how deep the lamentations in 
 particular of the sorrowing monks ! They are 
 said to have assembled on that day almost to 
 Ae number of two thousand, — a special glory 
 of Martin, — through his example so numerous 
 plants had sprung up for the service of the Lord. 
 Undoubtedly the shepherd was then driving his 
 own flocks before him — the pale crowds of that 
 saintly multitude — bands arrayed in cloaks, 
 either old men whose life-labor was finished, or 
 young soldiers who had just taken the oath of 
 allegiance to Christ. Then, too, there was the 
 choir of virgins, abstaining out of modesty from 
 weeping ; and with what holy joy did they con- 
 ceal the fact of their affliction ! No doubt faith 
 would prevent the shedding of tears, yet affec- 
 tion forced out groans. For there was as sacred 
 an exultation over the glory to which he had 
 attained, as there was a pious sorrow on account 
 of his death. One would have been inclined to 
 pardon those who wept, as well as to congratu- 
 late those who rejoiced, while each single per- 
 son preferred that he himself should grieve, but 
 that another should rejoice. Thus then this 
 multitude, singing hymns of heaven, attended 
 the body of the sainted man onwards to the 
 place of sepulture. Let there be compared with 
 this spectacle, I will not say the worldly 18 pomp 
 of a funeral, but even of a triumph ; and what 
 can be reckoned similar to the obsequies of 
 Martin? Let your worldly great men lead before 
 their chariots captives with their hands bound 
 behind their backs. Those accompanied the body 
 of Martin who, under his guidance, had overcome 
 the world. Let madness honor these earthly 
 warriors with the united praises of nations. 
 Martin is praised with the divine psalms, Martin 
 is honored in heavenly hymns. Those worldly 
 men, after their triumphs here are over, shall be 
 thrust into cruel Tartarus, while Martin is joy- 
 fully received into the bosom of Abraham. Mar- 
 tin, poor and insignificant on earth, has a rich 
 entrance granted him into heaven. From that 
 blessed region, as I trust, he looks upon me, as 
 my guardian, while I am writing these things, 
 and upon you while you read them. 19 
 
 18 Or, " the pomp of a worldly funeral." 
 
 19 Halm inserts this last sentence in brackets. 
 
THE DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 o*»<c 
 
 DIALOGUE I. 
 
 CONCERNING THE VIRTUES OF THE MONKS OF THE 
 EAST. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 When I and a Gallic friend had assembled in 
 one place, this Gaul being a man very dear to 
 me, both on account of his remembrance of 
 Martin (for he had been one of his disciples), 
 and on account of his own merits, my friend 
 Postumianus joined us. He had just, on my 
 account, returned from the East, to which, leav- 
 ing his native country, he had gone three years 
 before. Having embraced this most affection- 
 ate friend, and kissed both his knees and his 
 feet, we were for a moment or two, as it were, 
 astounded ; and, shedding mutual tears of joy, 
 we walked about a good deal. But by and by 
 we sat down on our garments of sackcloth laid 
 upon the ground. Then Postumianus, directing 
 his looks towards me is the first to speak, and 
 says, — 
 
 " When I was in the remote parts of Egypt, I 
 felt a desire to go on as far as the sea. I there 
 met with a merchant vessel, which was ready to 
 set sail with the view of making for Narbonne. 1 
 The same night you seemed in a dream to stand 
 beside me, and laying hold of me with your 
 hand, to lead me away that I should go on 
 board that ship. Ere long, when the dawn 
 dispersed the darkness, and when I rose up in 
 the place in which I had been resting, as I 
 revolved my dream in my mind, I was suddenly 
 seized with such a longing after you, that with- 
 out delay I went on board the ship. Landing 
 on the thirtieth day at Marseilles, I came on 
 from that and arrived here on the tenth day — 
 so prosperous a voyage was granted to my duti- 
 ful desire of seeing you. Do thou only, for 
 whose sake I have sailed over so many seas, and 
 have traversed such an extent of land, yield 
 yourself over to me to be embraced and enjoyed 
 apart from all others." 
 
 "I truly," said I, "while you were still stay- 
 
 1 Narbona, more commonly called Narbo Martius; the modern 
 Narbonne. 
 
 ing in Egypt, was ever holding fellowship with 
 you in my mind and thoughts, and affection for 
 you had full possession of me as I meditated 
 upon you day and night. Surely then, you can- 
 not imagine that I will now fail for a single 
 moment to gaze with delight upon you, as I 
 hang upon your lips. I will listen to you, I will 
 converse with you, while no one at all is admitted 
 to our retirement, which this remote cell of 
 mine furnishes to us. For, as I suppose, you 
 will not take amiss the presence of this friend 
 of ours, the Gaul, who, as you perceive, rejoices 
 with his whole heart over this arrival of yours, 
 even as I do myself." 
 
 "Quite right," said Postumianus, "that Gaul 
 will certainly be retained in our company ; who, 
 although I am but little acquainted with him, 
 yet for this very reason that he is greatly beloved 
 by you, cannot fail also to be dear to me. This 
 must especially be the case, since he is of the 
 school of Martin ; nor will I grudge, as you 
 desire, to talk with you in connected discourse, 
 since I came hither for this very purpose, that 
 I should, even at the risk of being tedious, 
 respond to the desire of my dear Sulpitius " — 
 and in so speaking he affectionately took hold 
 of me with both his hands. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 "Truly," said I, "you have clearly proved 
 how much a sincere love can accomplish, inas- 
 much as, for my sake, you have traveled over so 
 many seas, and such an extent of land, journey- 
 ing, so to speak, from the rising of the sun in 
 the East to where he sets in the West. Come, 
 then, because we are here in a retired spot by 
 ourselves, and not being otherwise occupied, 
 feel it our duty to attend to your discourse, 
 come, I pray thee, relate to us the whole history 
 of your wanderings. Tell us, if you please, how 
 the faith of Christ is flourishing in the East; 
 what peace the saints enjoy ; what are the cus- 
 toms of the monks ; and with what signs and 
 miracles Christ is working in his servants. For 
 assuredly, because in this region of ours and 
 amid the circumstances in which we are placed, 
 
DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 25 
 
 life itself has become a weariness to us, we shall 
 gladly hear from you, if life is permitted to 
 Christians even in the desert." 
 
 In reply to these words, Postumianus declares, 
 " I shall do as I see you desire. But I beg you 
 first to tell me, whether all those persons whom 
 I left here as priests, continue the same as I 
 knew them before taking my departure." 
 
 Then I exclaim, " Forbear, I beseech thee, 
 to make any enquiry on such points, which you 
 either, I think, know as well as I do, or if you 
 are ignorant of them, it is better that you should 
 hear nothing regarding them. I cannot, how- 
 ever, help saying, that not only are those, of 
 whom you enquire, no better than they were 
 when you knew them, but even that one man, 
 who was formerly a great friend of mine, and in 
 whose affection I was wont to find some conso- 
 lation from the persecutions of the rest, has 
 shown himself more unkind towards me than he 
 ought to have been. However, I shall not say 
 anything harsher regarding him, both because I 
 once esteemed him as a friend, and loved him 
 even when he was deemed my enemy. I shall 
 only add that while I was silently meditating on 
 these things in my thoughts, this source of grief 
 deeply afflicted me, that I had almost lost the 
 friendship of one who was both a wise and a 
 religious man. But let us turn away from these 
 topics which are full of sorrow, and let us rather 
 listen to you, according to the promise which 
 you gave some time ago." 
 
 " Let it be so," exclaimed Postumianus. And 
 on his saying this, we all kept silence, while, 
 moving his robe of sackcloth, on which he had 
 sat down, a little nearer me, he thus began. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " Three years ago, Sulpitius, at which time, 
 leaving this neighborhood, I bade thee farewell, 
 after setting sail from Narbonne, on the fifth day 
 we entered a port of Africa : so prosperous, by 
 the will of God, had been the voyage. I had 
 in my mind a great desire to go to Carthage, to 
 visit those localities connected with the saints, 
 and, above all, to worship at the tomb 1 of the 
 martyr Cyprian. On the fifth day we returned 
 to the harbor, and launched forth into the deep. 
 Our destination was Alexandria ; but as the 
 south wind was against us, we were almost driven 
 upon the Syrtis ; 2 the cautious sailors, however, 
 guarding against this, stopped the ship by cast- 
 ing anchor. The continent of Africa then lay 
 
 1 " Ad sepulchrum Cypriani martyris adorare." 
 - This was probably the Syrtis Minor, a dangerous sandbank in 
 the sea on the northern coast of Africa; it is now known as the Gulf 
 of Cabes. The Syrtis Major lay farther to the east, and now bears 
 the lame of the Gulf of Sidra. 
 
 before our eyes ; and, landing on it in boats, 
 when we perceived that the whole country round 
 was destitute of human cultivation, I penetrated 
 farther inland, for the purpose of more carefully 
 exploring the locality. About three miles from 
 the sea-coast, I beheld a small hut in the midst 
 of the sand, the roof of which, to use the ex- 
 pression 3 of Sallust, was like the keel of a ship. 
 It was close to 4 the earth, and was floored with 
 good strong boards, not because any very heavy 
 rains are there feared (for, in fact, such a thing 
 as rain has there never even been heard of), but 
 because, such is the strength of the winds in that 
 district, that, if at any time only a little breath of 
 air begins there to be felt, even when the weather 
 is pretty mild, a greater wreckage takes place in 
 those lands than on any sea. No plants are 
 there, and no seeds ever spring up, since, in such 
 shifting soil, the dry sand is swept along with 
 every motion of the winds. But where some 
 promontories, back from the sea, act as a check 
 to the winds, the soil, being somewhat more 
 firm, produces here and there some prickly grass, 
 and that furnishes fair pasturage for sheep. The 
 inhabitants live on milk, while those of them that 
 are more skillful, or, so to speak, more wealthy, 
 make use of barley bread. That is the only kind 
 of grain which flourishes there, for barley, by 
 the quickness of its growth in that sort of soil, 
 generally escapes the destruction caused by the 
 fierce winds. So rapid is its growth that we are 
 told it is ripe on the thirtieth day after the sow- 
 ing of the seed. But there is no reason why 
 men should settle there, except that all are free 
 from the payment of taxes. The sea-coast of 
 the Cyrenians is indeed the most remote, border- 
 ing upon that desert which lies between Egypt 
 and Africa, 5 and through which Cato formerly, 
 when fleeing from Caesar, led an army. 6 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 I therefore bent my steps toward the hut 
 which I had beheld from a distance. There I 
 find an old man, in a garment made of skins, 
 turning a mill with his hand. He saluted and 
 received us kindly. We explain to him that we 
 had been forced to land on that coast, and were 
 prevented by the continued raging of the sea 1 
 from being able at once to pursue our voyage ; 
 that, having made our way on shore, we had 
 desired, as is in keeping with ordinary human 
 
 3 "j^dificia Numidarum agrestium, quae mapalia illi vocant, 
 oblonga, incurvis lateribus tecta, quasi navium carina: sunt." — 
 Sail. Jug. XVIII. 8. 
 
 4 The hut was perhaps built on piles rising slightly above the 
 ground. 
 
 5 The term Africa is here used in its more restricted sense to 
 denote the territory of Carthage. 
 
 This took place in the spring of the year B.C. 47. 
 
 1 " maris mollitie." 
 
26 
 
 DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 nature, to become acquainted with the character 
 of the locality, and the manners of the inhabi- 
 tants. We added that we were Christians, and 
 that the principal object of our enquiry was 
 whether there were any Christians amid these 
 solitudes. Then, indeed, he, weeping for joy, 
 throws himself at our feet ; and, kissing us over 
 and over again, invites us to prayer, while, 
 spreading on the ground the skins of sheep, he 
 makes us sit down upon them. He then serves 
 up a breakfast truly luxurious, 2 consisting of the 
 half of a barley cake. Now, we were four, while 
 he himself constituted the fifth. He also brought 
 in a bundle of herbs, of which I forget the name, 
 but they were like mint, were rich in leaves, and 
 yielded a taste like honey. We were delighted 
 with the exceedingly sweet taste of this plant, 
 and our hunger was fully satisfied." 
 
 Upon this I smiled, and said to my friend the 
 Gaul, "What, Gaul, do you think of this? Are 
 you pleased with a bundle of herbs and half a 
 barley cake as a breakfast for five men? " 
 
 Then he, being an exceedingly modest person, 
 and blushing somewhat, while he takes my 3 joke 
 in good part, says, " You act, Sulpitius, in a way 
 like yourself, for you never miss any opportunity 
 which is offered you of joking us on the subject of 
 our fondness for eating. But it is unkind of you 
 to try to force us Gauls to live after the fashion 
 of angels ; and yet, through my own liking for 
 eating, I could believe that even the angels are in 
 the habit of eating ; for such is my appetite that 
 I would be afraid even singly to attack that half 
 barley cake. However, let that man of Cyrene 
 be satisfied with it, to whom it is either a matter 
 of necessity or nature always to feel hungry ; or, 
 again, let those be content with it from whom, I 
 suppose, their tossing at sea had taken away all 
 desire for food. We, on the other hand, are at 
 a distance from the sea ; and, as I have often 
 testified to you, we are, in one word, Gauls. But 
 instead of wasting time over such matters, let 
 our friend here rather go on to complete his 
 account of the Cyrenian." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " Assuredly," continues Postumianus, " I 
 shall take care in future not to mention the 
 abstinence of any one, in case the difficult ex- 
 ample should quite offend our friends the Gauls. 
 I had intended, however, to give an account 
 also of the dinner of that man of Cyrene — for 
 we were seven days with him — or some of the 
 subsequent feasts ; but these things had better 
 be passed over, lest the Gaul should think that 
 
 2 " Prandium sane locupletissimum " : of course, there is a 
 friendly irony in the words. 
 
 3 " fatigationem," a late sense of the word. 
 
 he was jeered at. However, on the following 
 day, when some of the natives had come to- 
 gether to visit us, we discovered that that host 
 of ours was a Presbyter — a fact which he had 
 concealed from us with the greatest care. We 
 then went with him to the church, which was 
 about two miles distant, and was concealed from 
 our view by an intervening mountain. We 
 found that it was constructed of common and 
 worthless trees, and was not much more impos- 
 ing than the hut of our host, in which one could 
 not stand without stooping. On enquiring into 
 the customs of the men of the district, we found 
 that they were not in the habit of either buying 
 or selling anything. They knew not the mean- 
 ing of either fraud or theft. As to gold and 
 silver, which mankind generally deem the most 
 desirable of all things, they neither possess them, 
 nor do they desire to possess them. For when 
 I offered that Presbyter ten gold coins, he 
 refused them, declaring, with profound wisdom, 
 that the church was not benefited but rather 1 
 injured by gold. We presented him, however, 
 with some pieces of clothing. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " After he had kindly accepted our gifts, on 
 the sailors calling us back to the sea, we 
 departed ; and after a favorable passage, we 
 arrived at Alexandria on the seventh day. 
 There we found a disgraceful strife raging be- 
 tween the bishops and monks, the cause or 
 occasion of which was that the priests were 
 known when assembled together often to have 
 passed decrees in crowded synods to the effect 
 that no one should read or possess the books of 
 Origen. He was, no doubt, regarded as a most 
 able disputant on the sacred Scriptures. But 
 the bishops maintained that there were certain 
 things in his books of an unsound character ; 
 and his supporters, not being bold enough to 
 defend these, rather took the line of declaring 
 that they had been inserted by the heretics. 
 They affirmed, therefore, that the other portions 
 of his writings were not to be condemned on 
 account of those things which justly fell under 
 censure, since the faith of readers could easily 
 make a distinction, so that they should not 
 follow what had been forged, and yet should 
 keep hold of those points which were handled 
 in accordance with the Catholic faith. They 
 remarked that there was nothing wonderful if, 
 in modern and recent writings, heretical guile 
 had been at work ; since it had not feared in 
 certain places to attack even Gospel truth. 
 The bishops, struggling against these positions 
 
 1 " non instrui, sed potius destrui." 
 
DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 .27 
 
 to the utmost extent of their power, insisted that 
 what was quite correct in the writings of Origen 
 should, along with the author himself, and even 
 his whole works, be condemned, because those 
 books were more than sufficient which the 
 church had received. They also said that the 
 reading was to be avoided of such works as 
 would do more harm to the unwise than they 
 would benefit the wise. For my part, on being led 
 by curiosity to investigate some portions of these 
 writings, I found very many things which pleased 
 me, but some that were to be blamed - . I think 
 it is cjear that the author himself really enter- 
 tained these impious opinions, though his de- 
 fenders maintain that the passages have been 
 forged. I truly wonder that one and the same 
 man could have been so different from himself 
 as that, in the portion which is approved, he 
 has no equal since the times of the Apostles, 
 while in that which is justly condemned, no one 
 can be shown to have erred more egregiously. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ' For while many things in his books which were 
 extracted from them by the bishops were read 
 to show that they were written in opposition to 
 the Catholic faith, that passage especially ex- 
 cited bad feeling against him, in which we read 
 in his published works that the Lord Jesus, as 
 he had come in the flesh for the redemption 
 of mankind, and suffering upon the cross for the 
 salvation of man, had tasted death to procure 
 eternal life for the human race, so he was, by 
 the same course of suffering, even to render the 
 devil a partaker of redemption. He maintained 
 this on the ground that such a thing would be 
 in harmony with his goodness and beneficence, 
 inasmuch as he who had restored fallen and 
 ruined man, would thus also set free an angel 
 who had previously fallen. When these and 
 other things of a like nature were brought 
 forward by the bishops, a tumult arose owing 
 to the zeal of the different parties ; and when 
 this could not be quelled by the authority of 
 the priests, the governor of the city was called 
 upon to regulate the discipline of the church by 
 a perverse precedent ; and through the terror 
 which he inspired, the brethren were dispersed, 
 while the monks took to flight in different direc- 
 tions ; so that, on the decrees being published, 
 they were not permitted to find lasting accept- 
 ance 1 in any place. This fact influenced me 
 greatly, that Hieronymus, a man truly Catholic 
 and most skillful in the holy law, was thought at 
 first to have been a follower of Origen, yet now, 
 above most others, went the length of condemn- 
 ing the whole of his writings. Assuredly, I am 
 
 1 " in nulla consistere sede sinerentur.' 
 
 not inclined to judge rashly in regard to any 
 one ; but even the most learned men were said 
 to hold different opinions in this controversy. 
 However, whether that opinion of Origen was 
 simply an error, as I think, or whether it was a 
 heresy, as is generally supposed, it not only 
 could not be suppressed by multitudes of cen- 
 sures on the part of the priests, but it never 
 could have spread itself so far and wide, had it 
 not gathered strength from their contentions. 
 Accordingly, when I came to Alexandria, I 
 found that city in a ferment from disturbances 
 connected with the matter in question. The 
 Bishop, indeed, of that place received me very 
 kindly, and in a better spirit than I expected, 
 and even endeavored to retain me with him. 
 But I was not at all inclined to settle there, 
 where a recent outbreak of ill-will had resulted 
 in a destruction of the brethren. For, although 
 perhaps it may seem that they ought to have 
 obeyed the bishops, yet such a multitude of 
 persons, all living in an open confession of 
 Christ, ought not for that reason to have been 
 persecuted, especially by bishops. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Accordingly, setting out from that place, I 
 made for the town of Bethlehem, which is six 
 miles distant from Jerusalem, but requires six- 
 teen stoppages 1 on the part of one journeying 
 from Alexandria. The presbyter Jerome 2 rules 
 the church of this place ; for it is a parish of the 
 bishop who has possession of Jerusalem. Hav- 
 ing already in my former journey become ac- 
 quainted with Hieronymus, he had easily brought 
 it about that I with good reason deemed no one 
 more worthy of my regard and love. For, be- 
 sides the merit due to him on account of his 
 faith, and the possession of many virtues, he is 
 a man learned not only in Latin and Greek, but 
 also Hebrew, to such a degree that no one dare 
 venture to compare himself with him in all 
 knowledge. I shall indeed be surprised if he 
 is not well known to you also through means of 
 the works which he has written, since he is, in 
 fact, read the whole world over." 
 
 " Well," says the Gaul at this point, " he is, in 
 truth, but too well known to us. For, some five 
 years ago, I read a certain book of his, in which 
 the whole tribe of our monks is most vehemently 
 assaulted and reviled by him. For this reason, 
 our Belgian friend is accustomed to be very 
 angry, because he has said that we are in the 
 habit of cramming ourselves even to repletion. 
 But I, for my part, pardon the eminent man ; 
 and am of opinion that he had made the remark 
 rather about Eastern than Western monks. For 
 
 1 " mansionibus." 
 
 2 Otherwise, " Hieronymus.' 5 
 
28 
 
 DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 the love of eating is gluttony in the case of the 
 Greeks, whereas among the Gauls it is owing to 
 the nature they possess." 
 
 Then exclaimed I, " You defend your nation, 
 my Gallic friend, by means of rhetoric ; but I 
 beg to ask whether that book condemns only 
 this vice in the case of the monks? " 
 
 " No indeed," replies he ; " the writer passed 
 nothing over, which he did not blame, scourge, 
 and expose : in particular, he inveighed against 
 avarice and no less against arrogance. He dis- 
 coursed much respecting pride, and not a little 
 about superstition ; and I will freely own that 
 he seemed to me to draw a true picture of the 
 vices of multitudes." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " But as to familiarities which take place 
 between virgins and monks, or even clerics, how 
 true and how courageous were his words ! And, 
 on account of these, he is said not to stand high 
 in favor with certain people whom I am un- 
 willing to name. For, as our Belgian friend is 
 angry that we were accused of too great fond- 
 ness for eating, so those people, again, are said 
 to express their rage when they find it written in 
 that little work, — 'The virgin despises her true 
 unmarried brother, and seeks a stranger.' " 
 
 Upon this I exclaim, "You are going too far, 
 my Gallic friend : take heed lest some one who 
 perhaps owns to these things, hear what you are 
 saying, and begin to hold you, along with Hie- 
 ronymus, in no great affection. For, since you 
 are a learned 1 man, not unreasonably will I ad- 
 monish you in the verse of that comic poet 
 who says, — ' Submission procures friends, while 
 truth gives rise to hatred.' Let rather, Postu- 
 mianus, your discourse to us about the East, so 
 well begun, now be resumed." 
 
 " Well," says he, " as I had commenced to 
 relate, I stayed with Hieronymus six months, 
 who carried on an unceasing warfare against the 
 wicked, and a perpetual struggle in opposition 
 to the deadly hatred of ungodly men. The 
 heretics hate him, because he never desists from 
 attacking them ; the clerics hate him, because 
 he assails their life and crimes. But beyond 
 doubt, all the good admire and love him ; for 
 those people are out of their senses, who sup- 
 pose that he is a heretic. Let me tell the truth 
 on this point, which is that the knowledge of 
 the man is Catholic, and that his doctrine is 
 sound. He is always occupied in reading, al- 
 ways at his books with his whole heart : he takes 
 no rest day or night ; he is perpetually either 
 reading or writing something. In fact, had I 
 not been resolved in mind, and had promised 
 
 1 " scholasticus.'' 
 
 to God first to visit 2 the desert previously referred 
 to, I should have grudged to depart even for the 
 shortest time from so great a man. Handing 
 over, then, and entrusting to him all my pos- 
 sessions and my whole family, which having fol- 
 lowed me against my own inclination, kept me 
 in a state of embarrassment, and thus being, in 
 a sort of way delivered from a heavy burden, 
 and restored to freedom of action, I returned to 
 Alexandria, and having visited the brethren 
 there I set out from the place for upper Thebais, 
 that is for the farthest off confines of Egypt. 
 For a great multitude of monks were said to 
 inhabit the widely extending solitudes of that 
 wilderness. But here it would be tedious, were 
 I to seek to narrate all the things which I wit- 
 nessed : I shall only touch lightly on a few 
 points. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " Not far from the desert, and close to the 
 Nile, there are numerous monasteries. P'or the 
 most part, the monks there dwell together in 
 companies of a hundred ; and their highest rule is 
 to live under the orders of their Abbot, to do 
 nothing by their own inclination, but to depend 
 in all things on his will and authority. If it so 
 happens that any of them form in their minds 
 a lofty ideal of virtue, so as to wish to betake 
 themselves to the desert to live a solitary life, 
 they do not venture to act on this desire except 
 with the permission of the Abbot. In fact, this 
 is the first of virtues in their estimation, — to 
 live in obedience to the will of another. To 
 those who betake themselves to the desert, bread 
 or some other kind of food is furnished by the 
 command of that Abbot. Now, it so happened 
 that, in those days during which I had come 
 thither, the Abbot had sent bread to a certain 
 person who had withdrawn to the desert, and 
 had erected a tent for himself not more than six 
 miles from the monastery. This bread was sent 
 by the hands of two boys, the elder of whom 
 was fifteen, and the younger twelve years of age. 
 As these boys were returning home, an asp of 
 remarkable size encountered them, but they 
 were not the least afraid on meeting it ; and 
 moving up to their very feet, as if charmed by 
 some melody, it laid down its dark-green neck 
 before them. The younger of the boys laid hold 
 of it with his hand, and, wrapping it in his dress, 
 went on his way with it. Then, entering the 
 monastery with the air of a conqueror, and 
 meeting with the brethren, while all looked on, 
 he opened out his dress, and set down the im- 
 prisoned beast, not without some appearance of 
 boastfulness. But while the rest of the spec- 
 tators extolled the faith and virtue of the chil- 
 
 2 " propositam eremura." 
 
DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 29 
 
 dren, the Abbot, with deeper insight, and to pre- 
 vent them at such a tender age from being puffed 
 up with pride, subjected both to punishment. 
 This he did after blaming them much for having 
 publicly revealed what the Lord had wrought 
 through their instrumentality. He declared that 
 that was not to be attributed to their faith, but to 
 the Divine power ; and added that they should 
 rather learn to serve God in humility, and not 
 to glory in signs and wonders ; for that a sense 
 of their own weakness was better than any vain- 
 glorious exhibition of power. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 "When the monk whom I have mentioned 
 heard of this, — when he learned both that the 
 children had encountered danger through meet- 
 ing the snake, and that moreover, having got the 
 better of the serpent, they had received a sound 
 beating, — he implored the Abbot that henceforth 
 no bread or food of any kind should be sent to 
 him. And now the eighth day had passed since 
 that man of Christ had exposed himself to the 
 danger of perishing from hunger ; his limbs were 
 growing dry with fasting, but his mind fixed 
 upon heaven could not fail ; his body was wear- 
 ing away with abstinence, but his faith remained 
 firm. In the meantime, the Abbot was admon- 
 ished by the Spirit to visit that disciple. Under 
 the influence of a pious solicitude, he was eager 
 to learn by what means of preserving life that 
 faithful man was supported, since he had de- 
 clined any human aid in ministering to his ne- 
 cessities. Accordingly, he sets out in person to 
 satisfy himself on the subject. When the recluse 
 saw from a distance the old man coming to him, 
 he ran to meet him : he thanks him for the 
 visit, and conducts him to his cell. As they 
 enter the cell together, they behold a basket of 
 palm branches, full of hot bread, hanging fixed 
 at the door-post. And first the smell of the hot 
 bread is perceived ; but on touching it, it ap- 
 pears as if just a little before it had been taken 
 from the oven. At the same time, they do not 
 recognize the bread as being of the shape com- 
 mon in Egypt. Both are filled with amazement, 
 and acknowledge the gift as being from heaven. 
 On the one side, the recluse declared that this 
 event was due to the arrival of the Abbot ; 
 while, on the other side, the Abbot ascribed it 
 rather to the faith and virtue of the recluse ; but 
 both broke the heaven-sent bread with exceed- 
 ing joy. And when, on his return to the mon- 
 astery, the old man reported to the brethren 
 what had occurred, such enthusiasm seized the 
 minds of all of them, that they vied with each 
 other in their haste ,to betake themselves to the 
 desert, and its sacred seclusion; while they 
 
 declared themselves miserable in having made 
 their abode only too long amid a multitude, 
 where human fellowship had to be carried on 
 and endured. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " In this monastery I saw two old men who 
 were said to have already lived there for forty 
 years, and in fact never to have departed from 
 it. I do not think that I should pass by all 
 mention of these men, since, indeed, I heard the 
 following statement made regarding their vir- 
 tues on the testimony of the Abbot himself, and 
 all the brethren, that in the case of one of 
 them, the sun never beheld him feasting, and in 
 the case of the other, the sun never saw him 
 angry." 
 
 Upon this, the Gaul looking at me exclaims : 
 " Would that a friend of yours — I do not wish 
 to mention his name — were now present; I 
 should greatly like him to hear of that example, 
 since we have had too much experience of his 
 bitter anger in the persons of a great many peo- 
 ple. Nevertheless, as I hear, he has lately for- 
 given his enemies ; and, in these circumstances, 
 were he to hear of the conduct of that man, he 
 would be more and more strengthened in his 
 forgiving course by the example thus set before 
 him, and would feel that it is an admirable vir- 
 tue not to fall under the influence of anger. I 
 will not indeed deny that he had just reasons 
 for his wrath ; but where the battle is hard, the 
 crown of victory is all the more glorious. For 
 this reason, I think, if you will allow me to say 
 so, that a certain man was justly to be praised, 
 because when an ungrateful freedman abandoned 
 him he rather pitied than inveighed against the 
 fugitive. And, indeed, he was not even angry 
 with the man by whom he seems to have been 
 carried off." J 
 
 Upon this I remarked : " Unless Postumianus 
 had given us that example of overcoming anger, 
 I would have been very angry on account of the 
 departure of the fugitive ; but since it is not 
 lawful to be angry, all remembrance of such 
 things, as it annoys us, ought to be blotted from 
 our minds. Let us rather, Postumianus, listen to 
 what you have got to say." 
 
 " I will do," says he, " Sulpitius, what you 
 request, as I see you are all so desirous of hear- 
 ing me. But remember that I do not address 
 my speech to you without hope of a larger 
 recompense ; I shall gladly perform what you 
 require, provided that, when ere long my turn 
 comes, you do not refuse what I ask." 
 
 " We indeed," said I, " have nothing by 
 
 1 It appears impossible to give 
 words — "a quo videtur abductus." 
 
 a certain rendering of these 
 
3Q 
 
 DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 means of which we can return the obligation we 
 shall lie under to you even without a larger 
 return. 2 However, command us as to anything 
 you have thought about, provided you satisfy 
 our desires, as you have already begun to do, 
 for your speech conveys to us true delight." 
 
 " I will stint nothing," said Postumianus, " of 
 your desires ; and inasmuch as you have recog- 
 nized the virtue of one recluse, I shall go on to 
 relate to you some few things about more such 
 persons. 
 
 CHAPTER XJII. 
 
 " Well then, when I entered upon the near- 
 est parts of the desert, about twelve miles from 
 the Nile, having as my guide one of the brethren 
 who was well acquainted with the localities, we 
 arrived at the residence of a certain old monk 
 who dwelt at the foot of a mountain. In that 
 place there was a well, which is a very rare thing 
 in these regions. The monk had one ox, the 
 whole labor of which consisted in drawing 
 water by moving a machine worked with a 
 wheel. This was the only way of getting at the 
 water, for the well was said to be a thousand or 
 more feet deep. There was also a garden there 
 full of a variety of vegetables. This, too, was 
 contrary to what might have been expected in 
 the desert where, all things being dry and burnt 
 up by the fierce rays of the sun produce not 
 even the slenderest root of any plant. But the 
 labor which in common with his ox, the monk 
 performed, as well as his own special industry, 
 produced such a happy state of things to the 
 holy man ; for the frequent irrigation in which 
 he engaged imparted such a fertility to the sand 
 that we saw the vegetables in his garden flour- 
 ishing and coming to maturity in a wonderful 
 manner. On these, then, the ox lived as well as 
 its master ; and from the abundance thus sup- 
 plied, the holy man provided us also with a din- 
 ner. There I saw what ye Gauls, perchance, 
 may not believe — a pot boiling without fire ' 
 with the vegetables which were being got ready 
 for our dinner : such is the power of the sun in 
 that place that it is sufficient for any cooks, even 
 for preparing the dainties of the Gauls. Then 
 after dinner, when the evening was coming on, our 
 host invites us to a palm-tree, the fruit of which 
 he was accustomed to use, and which was at a 
 distance of about two miles. For that is the 
 only kind of tree found in the desert, and even 
 these are rare, though they do occur. I am not 
 sure whether this is owing to the wise foresight 
 of former ages, or whether the soil naturally 
 
 2 " vel sine fsenore." 
 
 1 Hornius strangely remarks on this, " Frequens id in Africa. 
 Quin et ferrum nimio solis ardore mollescere scribunt qui interiorem 
 Libyam perlustrarunt." 
 
 produces them. It may indeed be that God, 
 knowing beforehand that the desert was one day 
 to be inhabited by the saints, prepared these 
 things for his servants. For those who settle 
 within these solitudes live for the most part on 
 the fruit of such trees, since no other kinds of 
 plants thrive in these quarters. Well, when we 
 came up to that tree to which the kindness of 
 our host conducted us, we there met with a lion ; 
 and on seeing it, both my guide and myself 
 began to tremble ; but the holy man went up 
 to it without delay, while we, though in great 
 terror, followed him. As if commanded by 
 God, the beast modestly withdrew and stood 
 gazing at us, while our friend, the monk, plucked 
 some fruit hanging within easy reach on the 
 lower branches. And, on his holding out his 
 hand filled with dates, the monster ran up to 
 him and received them as readily as any domes- 
 tic animal could have done ; and having eaten 
 them, it departed. We, beholding these things, 
 and being still under the influence of fear, could 
 not but perceive how great was the power of 
 faith' in his case, and how weak it was in our- 
 selves. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " We found another equally remarkable man 
 living in a small hut, capable only of containing 
 a single person. Concerning him we were told 
 that a she-wolf was accustomed to stand near 
 him at dinner ; and that the beast could by no 
 means be easily deceived so as to fail to be with 
 him at the regular hour when he took refresh- 
 ment. It was also said that the wolf waited at 
 the door until he offered her the bread which 
 remained over his own humble dinner ; that 
 she was accustomed to lick his hand, and then, 
 her duty being, as it were, fulfilled, and her re- 
 spects paid to him, she took her departure. 
 But it so happened that that holy man, while he 
 escorted a brother who had paid him a visit, on 
 his way home, was a pretty long time away, and 
 only returned under night. 1 In the meanwhile, 
 the beast made its appearance at the usual din- 
 ner time. Having entered the vacant cell and 
 perceived that its benefactor was absent, it be- 
 gan to search round the hut with some curiosity 
 to discover, if possible, the inhabitant. Now 
 it so happened that a basket of palm-twigs was 
 hanging close at hand with five loaves of bread 
 in it. Taking one of these, the beast devoured 
 it, and then, having committed this evil deed, 
 went its way. The recluse on his return found 
 the basket in a state of disorder, and the num- 
 ber of loaves less than it should have been. 
 
 1 "sub nocte " : this may be used tor the usual classical form 
 sub noctem," towards evening. 
 
 , 
 
DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 3i 
 
 He is aware of the loss of his household goods, 
 and observes near the threshold some fragments 
 of the loaf which had been stolen. Consider- 
 ing all this, he had little doubt as to the author 
 of the theft. Accordingly, when on the follow- 
 ing days the beast did not, in its usual way, 
 make its appearance (undoubtedly hesitating 
 from a consciousness of its audacious deed to 
 come to him on whom it had inflicted injury), 
 the recluse was deeply grieved at being deprived 
 of the happiness he had enjoyed in its society. 
 At last, being brought back through his prayers, 
 it appeared to him as usual at dinner time, after 
 the lapse of seven days. But to make clear to 
 every one the shame it felt, through regret for 
 what had been done, not daring to draw very 
 near, and with its eyes, from profound self- 
 abasement, cast upon the earth, it seemed, as 
 was plain to the intelligence of every one, to beg 
 in a sort of way, for pardon. The recluse, pity- 
 ing its confusion, bade it come close to him, and 
 then, with a kindly hand, stroked its head ; 
 while, by giving it two loaves instead of the 
 usual one, he restored the guilty creature to its 
 former position ; and, laying aside its misery on 
 'thus having obtained forgiveness, it betook it- 
 self anew to its former habits. Behold, I beg of 
 you, even in this case, the power of Christ, to 
 whom all is wise that is irrational, and to whom 
 all is mild that is by nature savage. A wolf dis- 
 charges duty ; a wolf acknowledges the crime 
 of theft ; a wolf is confounded with a sense of 
 shame : when called for, it presents itself; it 
 offers its head to be stroked ; and it has a per- 
 ception of the pardon granted to it, just as if it 
 had a feeling of shame on account of its mis- 
 conduct, — this is thy power, O Christ — these, 
 O Christ, are thy marvelous works. For in 
 truth, whatever things thy servants do in thy 
 name are thy doings ; and in this only we find 
 cause for deepest grief that, while wild beasts 
 acknowledge thy majesty, intelligent beings fail 
 to do thee reverence. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " But lest this should perchance seem incred- 
 ible to any one, I shall mention still greater 
 things. I call Christ 1 to witness that I invent 
 nothing, nor will I relate things published by 
 uncertain authors, but will set forth facts which 
 have been vouched for to me by trustworthy 
 men. 
 
 " Numbers of those persons live in the desert 
 without any roofs over their heads, whom people 
 call anchorites. 2 They subsist on the roots of 
 
 1 " Fides Christi adest ": lit. " the faith of Christ is present." 
 
 2 Also spelt " anchoret " : it means "one who has retired from 
 the world " (a^a^wpew). 
 
 plants ; they settle nowhere in any fixed place, 
 lest they should frequently have men visiting 
 them ; wherever night compels them they choose 
 their abode. Well, two monks from Nitria 
 directed their steps towards a certain man living 
 in this style, and under these conditions. They 
 did so, although they were from a very different 
 quarter, because they had heard of his virtues, 
 and because he had formerly been their dear 
 and intimate friend, while a member of the same 
 monastery. They sought after him long and 
 much ; and at length, in the seventh month, 
 they found him staying in that far-distant wilder- 
 ness which borders upon Memphis. He was 
 said already to have dwelt in these solitudes for 
 twelve years ; but although lie shunned inter- 
 course with all men, yet he did not shrink from 
 meeting these friends ; on the contrary, he 
 yielded himself to their affection for a period 
 of three days. On the fourth day, when he had 
 gone some distance escorting them in their 
 return journey, they beheld a lioness of remark- 
 able size coming towards them. The animal, 
 although meeting with three persons, showed no 
 uncertainty as to the one she made for, but 
 threw herself down at the feet of the anchorite : 
 and, lying there with a kind of weeping and 
 lamentation, she manifested mingled feelings of 
 sorrow and supplication. The sight affected all, 
 and especially him who perceived that he was 
 sought for : he therefore sets out, and the others 
 follow him. For the beast stopping from time 
 to time, and, from time to time looking back, 
 clearly wished it to be understood that the an- 
 chorite should follow wherever she led. What 
 need is there of many words ? We arrived at 
 the den of the animal, where she, the unfortu- 
 nate mother, was nourishing five whelps already 
 grown up, which, as they had come forth with 
 closed eyes from the womb of their dam, so 
 they had continued in persistent blindness. 
 Bringing them out, one by one, from the hollow 
 of the rock, she laid them down at the feet of 
 the anchorite. Then at length the holy man 
 perceived what the creature desired ; and having 
 called upon the name of God, he touched with 
 his hand the closed eyes of the whelps ; and 
 immediately their blindness ceased, while light, 
 so long denied them, streamed upon the open 
 eyes of the animals. Thus, those brethren, 
 having visited the anchorite whom they were 
 desirous of seeing, returned with a very precious 
 reward for their labor, inasmuch as, having been 
 permitted to be eye-witnesses of such power, 
 they had beheld the faith of the saint, and the 
 glory of Christ, to which they will in future 
 bear testimony. But I have still more marvels 
 to tell : the lioness, after five days, returned to 
 the man who had done her so great a kindness, 
 and brought him, as a gift, the skin of an un- 
 
32 
 
 DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 common animal. Frequently clad in this, as if 
 it were a cloak, that holy man did not disdain to 
 receive that gift through the instrumentality of 
 the beast ; while, all the time, he rather regarded 
 Another as being the giver. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " There was also an illustrious name of an- 
 other anchorite in those regions, a man who 
 dwelt in that part of the desert which is about 
 Syene. This man, when first he betook himself 
 to the wilderness, intended to live on the roots 
 of plants which the sand here and there pro- 
 duces, of a very sweet and delicious flavor ; but 
 being ignorant of the nature of the herbs, he 
 often gathered those which were of a deadly 
 character. And, indeed, it was not easy to dis- 
 criminate between the kind of the roots by the 
 mere taste, since all were equally sweet, but 
 many of them, of a less known nature, contained 
 within them a deadly poison. When, therefore, 
 the poison within tormented him on eating 
 these, and all his vitals were tortured with ter- 
 rific pains, while frequent vomitings, attended 
 by excruciating agonies, were shattering the 
 very citadel of life, his stomach being completely 
 exhausted, he was in utter terror of all that had 
 to be eaten for sustaining existence. Having 
 thus fasted for seven days, he was almost at the 
 point of death, when a wild animal called an 
 Ibex came up to him. To this creature stand- 
 ing by him, he offered a bundle of plants which 
 he had collected on the previous day, yet had 
 not ventured to touch ; but the beast, casting 
 aside with its mouth those which were poisonous, 
 picked out such as it knew to be harmless. In 
 this way, that holy man, taught by its conduct 
 what he ought to eat, and what to reject, both 
 escaped the danger of dying of hunger and of 
 being poisoned by the plants. But it would be 
 tedious to relate all the facts which we have 
 either had personal knowledge of, or have heard 
 from others, respecting those who inhabit the 
 desert. I spent a whole year, and nearly seven 
 months more, of set purpose, within these soli- 
 tudes, being, however, rather an admirer of the 
 virtues of others, than myself making any at- 
 tempt to manifest the extraordinary endurance 
 which they displayed. For the greater part of 
 the time I lived with the old man whom I have 
 mentioned, who possessed the well and the ox. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 " I visited two monasteries of St. Anthony, 
 which are at the present day occupied by his 
 disciples. I also went to that place in which 
 
 the most blessed Paul, the first of the eremites, 
 had his abode. I saw the Red Sea and the 
 ridges of Mount Sinai, the top of which almost 
 touches heaven, and cannot, by any human 
 effort, be reached. An anchorite was said to 
 live somewhere within its recesses : and I sought 
 long and much to see him, but was unable to do 
 so. He had for nearly fifty years been removed 
 from all human fellowship, and used no clothes, 
 but was covered with bristles growing on his 
 own body, while, by Divine gift, he knew not of 
 his own nakedness. As often as any pious men 
 desired to visit him, making hastily for the path- 
 less wilderness, he shunned all meeting with his 
 kind. To one man only, about five years before 
 my visit, he was said to have granted an inter- 
 view ; and I believe that man obtained the 
 favor through the power of his faith. Amid 
 much talk which the two had together, the 
 recluse is said to have replied to the question 
 why he shunned so assiduously all human beings, 
 that the man who was frequently visited by 
 mortals like himself, could not often be visited 
 by angels. From this, not without reason, the 
 report had spread, and was accepted by multi- 
 tudes, that that holy man enjoyed angelic fellow- 
 ship. Be this as it may, I, for my part, departed 
 from Mount Sinai, and returned to the river Nile, 
 the banks of which, on both sides, I beheld 
 dotted over with numerous monasteries. I saw 
 that, for the most part, as I have already said, 
 the monks resided together in companies of a 
 hundred ; but it was well known that so many 
 as two or three thousand sometimes had their 
 abode in the same villages. Nor indeed would 
 one have any reason to think that the virtue of 
 the monks there dwelling together in great num- 
 bers, was less than that of those was known to 
 be, who kept themselves apart from human 
 fellowship. The chief and foremost virtue in 
 these places, as I have already said, is obedience. 
 In fact, any one applying for admission is not 
 received by the Abbot of the monastery on any 
 other condition than that he be first tried 
 and proved ; it being understood that he will 
 never afterwards decline to submit to any in- 
 junction of the Abbot, however arduous and 
 difficult, and though it may seem something 
 unworthy to be endured. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " I will relate two wonderful examples of 
 almost incredible obedience, and two only, 
 although many present themselves to my recol- 
 lection ; but if, in any case, a few instances do 
 not suffice to rouse readers to an imitation of 
 the like virtues, many would be of no advantage. 
 Well then, when a certain man having laid aside 
 
DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 33 
 
 all worldly business, and having entered a mon- 
 astery of very * strict discipline, begged that he 
 might be accepted as a member, the Abbot be- 
 gan to place many considerations before him, — 
 that the toils of that order were severe ; that his 
 own requirements were heavy, and such as no 
 one's endurance could easily comply with ; that 
 he should rather enquire after another monas- 
 tery where life was carried on under easier con- 
 ditions ; and that he should not try to attempt 
 that which he was unable to accomplish. But 
 he was in no degree moved by these terrors ; 
 on the contrary, he all the more promised 
 obedience, saying that if the Abbot should 
 order him to walk into the fire, he would not 
 refuse to enter it. The Master then, having 
 accepted that profession of his, did not delay 
 putting it to the test. It so happened that an 
 iron vessel was close at hand, very hot, as it was 
 being got ready by a powerful fire for cooking 
 some loaves of bread : the flames were bursting 
 forth from the oven broken open, and fire raged 
 without restraint within the hollows of that fur- 
 nace. The Master, at this stage of affairs, 
 ordered the stranger to enter it, nor did he 
 hesitate to obey the command. Without a 
 moment's delay he entered into the midst of the 
 flames, which, conquered at once by so bold a 
 display of faith, subsided at his approach, as 
 happened of old to the well-known Hebrew 
 children. Nature was overcome, and the fire 
 gave way ; so that he, of whom it was thought 
 that he would be burned to death, had reason to 
 marvel at himself, besprinkled, as it were, with 
 a cooling dew. But what wonder is it, O Christ, 
 that that fire did not touch thy youthful soldier? 
 The result was that, neither did the Abbot 
 regret having issued such harsh commands, nor 
 did the disciple repent having obeyed the 
 orders received. He, indeed, on the very day 
 on which he came, being tried in his weakness, 
 was found perfect ; deservedly happy, deservedly 
 glorious, having been tested in obedience, he 
 was glorified through suffering. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 " In the same monastery, the fact which I am 
 about to narrate was said to have occurred 
 within recent memory. A certain man had 
 come to the same Abbot in like manner with 
 the former, in order to obtain admission. When 
 the first law of obedience was placed before 
 him, and he promised an unfailing patience for 
 the endurance of all things however extreme, it 
 so happened that the Abbot was holding in his 
 hand a twig of storax already withered. This 
 
 1 " monasterium magnae dispositionis." 
 
 the Abbot fixed in the ground, and imposed this 
 work upon the visitor, that he should continue 
 to water the twig, until (what was against every 
 natural result) that dry piece of wood should 
 grow green in the sandy soil. Well, the stranger, 
 being placed under the authority of unbending 
 law, conveyed water every day on his own 
 shoulders — water which had to be taken from 
 the river Nile, at almost two miles' distance. 
 And now, after a year had run its course, the 
 labor of that workman had not yet ceased, but 
 there could be no hope of the good success of 
 his undertaking. However, the grace of obedi- 
 ence continued to be shown in his labor. The 
 following year also mocked the vain labor of the 
 (by this time) weakened brother. At length, 
 as the third annual circle was gliding by, while 
 the workman ceased not, night or day, his 
 labor in watering, the twig began to show signs 
 of life. I have myself seen a small tree sprung 
 from that little rod, which, standing at the 
 present day with green branches in the court 
 of the monastery, as if for a witness of what has 
 been stated, shows what a reward obedience 
 received, and what a power faith can exert. 
 But the day would fail me before I could fully 
 enumerate the many different miracles which 
 have become known to me in connection with 
 the virtues of the saints. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 " I will, however, still further give you an 
 account of two extraordinary marvels. The one 
 of these will be a notable warning against the 
 inflation of wretched vanity, and the other will 
 serve as no mean guard against the display of a 
 spurious righteousness. 
 
 " A certain saint, then, endowed with almost 
 incredible power ' in casting out demons from 
 the bodies of those possessed by them, was, day 
 by day, performing unheard-of miracles. For, 
 not only when present, and not merely by his 
 word, but while absent also, he, from time to 
 time, cured possessed bodies, by some threads 
 taken from his garment, or by letters which he 
 sent. He, therefore, was to a wonderful degree 
 visited by people who came to him from every 
 part of the world. I say nothing about those 
 of humbler rank ; but prefects, courtiers, and 
 judges of various ranks often lay at his doors. 
 Most holy bishops also, laying aside their priestly 
 dignity, and humbly imploring him to touch and 
 bless them, believed with good reason that they 
 were sanctified, and illumined with a divine 
 gift, as often as they touched his hand and gar- 
 ment. He was reported to abstain always and 
 utterly from every kind of drink, and for food 
 (I will whisper this, Sulpitius, into your ear lest 
 
34 
 
 DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 our friend the Gaul hear it), to subsist upon 
 only six dried figs. But in the meantime, just 
 as honor accrued to the holy man from his 
 excellence, 1 so vanity began to steal upon him 
 from the honor which was paid him. When 
 first he perceived that this evil was growing upon 
 him, he struggled long and earnestly to shake it 
 off, but it could not be thoroughly got rid of by 
 all his efforts, since he still had a secret con- 
 sciousness of being under the influence of vanity. 
 Everywhere did the demons acknowledge his 
 name, while he was not able to exclude from 
 his presence the number of people who flocked 
 to him. The hidden poison was, in the mean- 
 time, working in his breast, and he, at whose 
 beck demons were expelled from the bodies of 
 others, was quite unable to cleanse himself from 
 the hidden thoughts of vanity. Betaking him- 
 self, therefore, with fervent supplication to God, 
 he is said to have prayed that, power being 
 given to the devil over him for five months, he 
 might become like to those whom he himself 
 had cured. Why should I delay with many 
 words ? That most powerful man, — he, re- 
 nowned for his miracles and virtues through all 
 the East, he, to whose threshold multitudes had 
 gathered, and at whose door the highest digni- 
 taries of that age had prostrated themselves — 
 laid hold of by a demon, was kept fast in 
 chains. It was only after having suffered all 
 those things which the possessed are wont to 
 endure, that at length in the fifth month he was 
 delivered, not only from the demon, but (what 
 was to him more useful and desirable) from the 
 vanity which had dwelt within him. 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 " But to me reflecting on these things, there 
 occurs the thought of our own unhappiness and 
 our own infirmity. For who is there of us, 
 whom if one despicable creature of a man has 
 humbly saluted, or one woman has praised with 
 foolish and flattering words, is not at once elated 
 with pride and puffed up with vanity? This 
 will bring it about that even though one does 
 not possess a consciousness of sanctity, yet, be- 
 cause through the flattery, or, it may be, the 
 mistake of fools, he is said to be a holy man, 
 he will, in fact, deem himself most holy ! And 
 then, if frequent gifts are sent to him, he will 
 maintain that he is so honored by the munifi- 
 cence of God, inasmuch as all necessary things 
 are bestowed upon him when sleeping and at 
 rest. But further, if some signs of any kind 
 of power fall to him even in a low degree, he 
 
 1 " virtute," perhaps power, as in many other places. 
 
 will think himself no less than an angel. And 
 even if he is not marked out from others either 
 by acts or excellence, but is simply made a 
 cleric, he instantly enlarges the fringes of his 
 dress, delights in salutations, is puffed up by 
 people visiting him, and himself gads about 
 everywhere. Nay, the man who had been pre- 
 viously accustomed to travel on foot, or at most 
 to ride on the back of an ass, must needs now 
 ride proudly on frothing steeds ; formerly con- 
 tent to dwell in a small and humble cell, he 
 now builds a lofty fretted ceiling ; he constructs 
 many rooms ; he cuts and carves doors ; he 
 paints wardrobes ; he rejects the coarser kind 
 of clothing, and demands soft garments ; and he 
 gives such orders as the following to dear wid- 
 ows and friendly virgins, that the one class weave 
 for him an embroidered cloak, and the other a 
 flowing robe. But let us leave all these things 
 to be described more pungently by that blessed 
 man Hieronymus ; and let us return to the ob- 
 ject more immediately in view." 
 
 " Well," says our Gallic friend upon this, " I 
 know not indeed what you have left to be said 
 by Hieronymus ; you have within such brief 
 compass comprehended all our practices, that I 
 think these few words of yours, if they are taken 
 in good part, and patiently considered, will 
 greatly benefit those in question, so that they 
 will not require in future to be kept in order by 
 the books of Hieronymus. But do thou rather 
 go on with what you had begun, and bring for- 
 ward an example, as you said you would do, 
 against spurious righteousness ; for to tell you 
 the truth, we are subject to no more destructive 
 evil than this within the wide boundaries of 
 Gaul." 
 
 "I will do so," replied Postumianus, " nor 
 will I any longer keep you in a state of expec- 
 tation. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 " A certain young man from Asia, exceed- 
 ingly wealthy, of distinguished family, and hav- 
 ing a wife and little son, happening to have been 
 a tribune in Egypt, and in frequent campaigns 
 against the Blembi to have touched on some 
 parts of the desert, and having also seen several 
 tents of the saints, heard the word of salvation 
 from the blessed John. And he did not then 
 delay to show his contempt for an unprofitable 
 military life with its vain honor. Bravely enter- 
 ing into the wilderness, he in a short time be- 
 came distinguished as being perfect in every 
 kind of virtue. Capable of lengthened fasting, 
 conspicuous for humility, and steadfast in faith, 
 he had easily obtained a reputation in the pur- 
 
DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 suit of virtue equal to that of the monks of old. 
 But by and by, the thought (proceeding from 
 the devil) entered his mind that it would be 
 more proper for him to return to his native land 
 and be the means of saving his only son and his 
 family along with his wife ; which surely would 
 be more acceptable to God than if he, content 
 with only rescuing himself from the world, 
 should, not without impiety, neglect the salva- 
 tion of his friends. Overcome by the plausible 
 appearance of that kind of spurious righteous- 
 ness, the recluse, after a period of nearly four 
 years, forsook his cell and the end to which he 
 had devoted his life. But on arriving at the 
 nearest monastery, which was inhabited by 
 many brethren, he made known to them, in 
 reply to their questionings, the reason of his de- 
 parture and the object he had in view. All of 
 them, and especially the Abbot of that place, 
 sought to keep him back ; but the intention he 
 had unfortunately formed could not be rooted 
 out of his mind. Accordingly with an unhappy 
 obstinacy he went forth, and, to the grief of all, 
 departed from the brethren. But scarcely had 
 he vanished from their sight, when he was taken 
 possession of by a demon, and vomiting bloody 
 froth from his mouth, he began to lacerate him- 
 self with his own teeth. Then, having been 
 carried back to the same monastery on. the 
 shoulders of the brethren, when the unclean 
 spirit could not be restrained within its walls, he 
 was, from dire necessity, loaded with iron fet- 
 ters, being bound both in hands and feet — a 
 punishment not undeserved by a fugitive, in- 
 asmuch as chains now restrained him whom 
 faith had not restrained. At length, after two 
 years, having been set free from the unclean 
 spirit by the prayers of the saints, he immedi- 
 ately returned to the desert from which he had 
 departed. In this way he was both himself cor- 
 rected and was rendered a warning to others, 
 that the shadow of a spurious righteousness 
 might neither delude any one, nor a shifting 
 fickleness of character induce any one, with un- 
 profitable inconstancy, to forsake the course on 
 which he has once entered. And now let it 
 suffice for you to learn these things respecting 
 the various operations of the Lord which he 
 has carried on in the persons of his servants ; 
 with the view either of stimulating others to a 
 like kind of conduct, or of deterring them 
 from particular actions, But since I have by 
 this time fully satisfied your ears — have, in fact, 
 been more lengthy than I ought to have been — 
 do you now (upon this he addressed himself to 
 me) — pay me the recompense you owe, by 
 letting us hear you, after your usual fashion, 
 discoursing about your friend Martin, for my 
 longings after this have already for a long time 
 been strongly excited." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 "What," replied I, "is there not enough 
 about my friend Martin in that book of mine 
 which you know that I published respecting his 
 life and virtues? " 
 
 "I own it," said Postumianus, "and that 
 book of yours is never far from my right hand. 
 For if you recognize it, look here — (and so 
 saying he displayed the book which was con- 
 cealed in his dress) — here it is. This book," 
 added he, " is my companion both by land and 
 sea : it has been my friend and comforter in all 
 my wanderings. But I will relate to you to what 
 places that book has penetrated, and how there 
 is almost no spot upon earth in which the sub- 
 ject of so happy a history is not possessed as a 
 well-known narrative. Paulinus, a man who has 
 the strongest regard for you, was the first to 
 bring it to the city of Rome ; and then, as it 
 was greedily laid hold of by the whole city, I 
 saw the booksellers rejoicing over it, inasmuch 
 as nothing was a source of greater gain to them, 
 for nothing commanded a readier sale, or fetched 
 a higher price. This same book, having got a 
 long way before me in the course of my travel- 
 ing, was already generally read through all 
 Carthage, when I came into Africa. Only that 
 presbyter of Cyrene whom I mentioned did not 
 possess it ; but he wrote down its contents from 
 my description. And why should I speak about 
 Alexandria? for there it is almost better known 
 to all than it is to yourself. It has passed 
 through Egypt, Nitria, the Thebaid, and the 
 whole of the regions of Memphis. I found it 
 being read by a certain old man in the desert ; 
 and, after I told him that I was your intimate 
 friend, this commission was given me both by 
 him and many other brethren, that, if I should 
 ever again visit this country, and find you well, 
 I should constrain you to supply those particu- 
 lars which you stated in your book you had 
 passed over respecting the virtues of the sainted 
 man. Come then, as I do not desire you to 
 repeat to me those things which are already 
 sufficiently known from what you have written, 
 let those other points, at my request and that of 
 many others, be fully set forth, which at the 
 time of your writing you passed over, to pre- 
 vent, as I believe, any feeling of weariness on 
 the part of your readers." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 " Indeed, Postumianus," replied I, " while I 
 was listening attentively, all this time, to you 
 talking about the excellences of the saints, in 
 my secret thoughts I had my mind turned to my 
 friend Martin, observing on the best of grounds 
 
3^ 
 
 DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 that all those things which different individuals 
 had done separately, were easily and entirely ac- 
 complished by that one man alone. For, although 
 you certainly related lofty deeds, I really heard 
 nothing from your lips (may I say it, without of- 
 fence to these holy men), in which Martin was 
 inferior to any one of them. And while I hold 
 that the excellence of no one of these is ever to 
 be compared with the merits of that man, still 
 this point ought to be attended to, that it is un- 
 fair he should be compared, on the same terms, 
 with the recluses of the desert, or even with the 
 anchorites. For they, at freedom from every 
 hindrance, with heaven only and the angels as 
 witnesses, were clearly instructed to perform ad- 
 mirable deeds ; he, on the other hand, in the 
 midst of crowds and intercourse with human 
 beings — among quarrelsome clerics, and among 
 furious bishops, while he was harassed with al- 
 most daily scandals on all sides, nevertheless 
 stood absolutely firm with unconquerable virtue 
 against all these things, and performed such won- 
 ders as not even those accomplished of whom 
 we have heard that they are, or at one time were, 
 in the wilderness. But even had they done 
 things equal to his, what judge would be so un- 
 just as not, on good grounds, to decide that he 
 was the more powerful? For put the case that 
 he was a soldier who fought on unfavorable 
 ground, and yet turned out a conqueror, and 
 compare them, in like manner, to soldiers, who, 
 however, contended on equal terms, or even on 
 favorable terms, with the enemy. What then? 
 Although the victory of all is one and the same, 
 the glory of all certainly cannot be equal. And 
 even though you have narrated marvelous things, 
 still you have not stated that a dead man was 
 recalled to life by any one. In this one particu- 
 lar undoubtedly, it must be owned that no one 
 is to be compared with Martin. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 " For, if it is worthy of admiration that the 
 flames did not touch that Egyptian of whom 
 ) r ou have spoken, Martin also not infrequently 
 proved his power over fire. If you remind us 
 that the savagery of wild beasts was conquered 
 by, and yielded to, the anchorites, Martin, for 
 his part, was accustomed to keep in check both 
 the fury of wild beasts and the poison of ser- 
 pents. But, if you bring forward for compari- 
 son him who cured those possessed of unclean 
 spirits, by the authority of his word, or even 
 through the instrumentality of threads from his 
 dress, there are many proofs that Martin was 
 not, even in this respect, inferior. Nay, should 
 you have recourse to him, who, covered with his 
 own hair instead of a garment, was thought to 
 
 be visited by angels, with Martin angels were 
 wont to hold daily discourse. Moreover, he 
 bore so unconquerable a spirit against vanity and 
 boastfulness, that no one more determinedly dis- 
 dained these vices, and that, although he often, 
 while absent, cured those who were filled with 
 unclean spirits, and issued his commands not 
 only to courtiers or prefects, but also to kings 
 themselves. This was indeed a very small 
 thing amid his other virtues, but I should wish 
 you to believe that no one ever contended more 
 earnestly than he did against not only vanity, 
 but also the causes and the occasions of vanity. 
 I shall also mention what is indeed a small 
 point, but should not be passed over, because it 
 is to the credit of a man who, being possessed 
 of the highest power, manifested such a pious 
 desire to show his regard for the blessed Martin. 
 I remember, then, that Vincentius the prefect, 
 an illustrious man, and one of the most eminent 
 in all Gaul for every kind of virtue, when he had 
 occasion to be in the vicinity of Tours, often 
 begged of Martin that he would allow him to 
 stay with him in the monastery. In making 
 this request, he brought forward the example of 
 Saint Ambrose, the bishop, who was generally 
 spoken of at that time as being in the habit of 
 entertaining both consuls and prefects. But 
 Martin, with deeper judgment, refused so to act, 
 lest by so doing some vanity and inflation of 
 spirit might steal upon him. You, therefore, 
 must acknowledge that there existed in Martin 
 the virtues of all those men whom you have 
 mentioned, but there were not found in all of 
 them the virtues by which Martin was distin- 
 guished." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 " Why do you," here exclaimed Postumianus, 
 " speak to me in such a manner? As if I did 
 not hold the same opinion as yourself, and had 
 not always been of the same mind. I, indeed, 
 as long as I live, and retain my senses, will ever 
 celebrate the monks of Egypt : I will praise the 
 anchorites ; I will admire the eremites ; but I 
 will place Martin in a position of his own : I do 
 not venture to compare to him any one of the 
 monks, far less any of the bishops. Egypt owns 
 this : Syria and ^Ethiopia have discovered this : 
 India has heard this ; Parthia and Persia have 
 known this ; not even Armenia is ignorant of it ; 
 the remote Bosphorus is aware of it ; and in a 
 word, those are acquainted with it who visit 
 the Fortunate Islands or the Arctic Ocean. All 
 the more wretched on this account is this coun- 
 try of ours, which has not been found worthy to 
 be acquainted with so great a man, although he 
 was in its immediate vicinity. However, I will 
 
DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 37 
 
 not include the people at large in this censure : 
 only the clerics, only the priests know nothing 
 of him ; and not without reason were they, in 
 their ill-will, disinclined to know him, inasmuch 
 as, had they become acquainted with his virtues, 
 they must have recognized their own vices. I 
 shudder to state what I have lately heard, that 
 a miserable man (I know him not), has said 
 that you have told many lies in that book of 
 yours. This is not the voice of a man, but of 
 the devil ; and it is not Martin who is, in this 
 way, injured, but faith is taken from the Gospels 
 themselves. For, since the Lord himself testi- 
 fied of works of the kind which Martin accom- 
 plished, that they were to be performed by all 
 the faithful, he who does not believe that Martin 
 accomplished such deeds, simply does not be- 
 lieve that Christ uttered such words. But the 
 miserable, the degenerate, the somnolent, are 
 put to shame, that the things which they them- 
 selves cannot do, were done by him, and prefer 
 rather to deny his virtues than to confess their 
 own inertness. But let us, as we hasten on to 
 other matters, let go all remembrance of such 
 persons : and do you rather, as I have for a long 
 time desired, proceed to narrate the still untold 
 deeds of Martin." 
 
 " Well," said I, " I think that your request 
 would more properly be directed to our friend 
 the Gaul, since he is acquainted with more of 
 Martin's doings than I am — for a disciple could 
 not be ignorant of the deeds of his master — and 
 who certainly owes a return of kindness, not 
 only to Martin, but to both of us, inasmuch as 
 I have already published my book, and you have, 
 so far, related to us the doings of our brethren 
 in the East. Let then, our friend the Gaul 
 commence that detailed account which is due 
 from him : because, as I have said, he both 
 owes us a return in the way of speaking, and 
 will, I believe, do this much for his friend Mar- 
 tin — that he shall, not unwillingly, give a nar- 
 rative of his deeds." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 "Well," said the Gaul, "I, for my part, 
 though I am unequal to so great a task, feel 
 constrained by those examples of obedience 
 which have been related above by Postumianus, 
 not to refuse that duty which you impose upon 
 me. But when I reflect that I, a man of Gaul, 1 
 am about to speak in the presence of natives of 
 Aquitania, I fear lest my somewhat rude form 
 of speech should offend your too delicate ears. 
 
 l The word Gaul must here be taken in its more limited sense 
 as denoting only the country of the Celtae. See the well-known 
 nrst sentence of Caesar's Gallic War. 
 
 However, you will listen to me as a foolish sort 2 
 of man, who says nothing in an affected or stilted 
 fashion. For if you have conceded to me that 
 I was a disciple of Martin, grant me this also 
 that I be allowed, under the shelter of his ex- 
 ample, to despise the vain trappings of speech 
 and ornaments of words." 
 
 "Certainly," replied Postumianus, "speak either 
 in Celtic, or in Gaulish, if you prefer it, provided 
 only you speak of Martin. But for my part, I 
 believe, that, even though you were dumb, 
 words would not be wanting to you, in which 
 you might speak of Martin with eloquent lips, 
 just as the tongue of Zacharias was loosed at the 
 naming of John. But as you are, in fact, an 
 orator, 3 you craftily, like an orator, begin by 
 begging us to excuse your unskillfulness, because 
 you really excel in eloquence. But it is not 
 fitting either that a monk should show such cun- 
 ning, or that a Gaul should be so artful. But to 
 work rather, and set forth what you have still 
 got to say, for we have wasted too much time 
 already in dealing with other matters ; and the 
 lengthening shadow of the declining sun warns 
 us that no long portion of day remains till night 
 be upon us. Then, after we had all kept silence 
 for a little, the Gaul thus begins — "I think I 
 must take care in the first place not to repeat 
 those particulars about the virtues of Martin, 
 which our friend Sulpitius there has related in 
 his book. For this reason, I shall pass over his 
 early achievements, when he was a soldier ; nor 
 will I touch on those things which he did as a 
 layman and a monk. At the same time, I shall 
 relate nothing which I simply heard from others, 
 but only events of which I myself was an eye- 
 witness." 
 
 DIALOGUE II. 
 
 CONCERNING THE VIRTUES OF ST. MARTIN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Well then, when first, having left the schools, 
 I attached myself to the blessed man, a few 
 days after doing so, we followed him on his way 
 to the church. In the way, a poor man, half- 
 naked in these winter-months, met him, and 
 begged that some clothing might be given him. 
 Then Martin, calling for the chief-deacon, gave 
 orders that the shivering creature should be 
 clothed without delay. After that, entering a 
 private apartment, and sitting down by himself, 
 as his custom was — for he secured for himself 
 this retirement even in the church, liberty being 
 
 2 " Gurdonicus ": a word said to have been derived from the name 
 of a people in Spain noted for their stolidity. 
 
 3 " Scholasticus. " 
 
38 
 
 DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 granted to the clerics, since indeed the pres- 
 byters were seated in another apartment, either 
 spending their time in mutual x courtesies, or 
 occupied in listening to affairs of business. But 
 Martin kept himself in his own seclusion up to 
 the hour at which custom required that the 
 sacred rites should be dispensed to the people. 
 And I will not pass by this point that, when 
 sitting in his retirement, he never used a chair ; 
 and, as to the church, no one ever saw him 
 sitting there, as I recently saw a certain man 
 (God is my witness), not without a feeling of 
 shame at the spectacle, seated on a lofty throne, 
 yea, in its elevation, a kind of royal tribunal ; 
 but Martin might be seen sitting on a rude little 
 stool, such as those in use by the lowest of 
 servants, which we Gallic country-people call 
 tripets, 2 and which you men of learning, or those 
 at least who are from Greece, call tripods. Well, 
 that poor man who had been chanced upon, as 
 the chief-deacon delayed to give him the gar- 
 ment, rushed into this private apartment of the 
 blessed man, complaining that he had not been 
 attended to by the cleric, and bitterly mourning 
 over the cold he suffered. No delay took place : 
 the holy man, while the other did not observe, 
 secretly drew off his tunic which was below his 
 outer 3 garment, and clothing the poor man with 
 this, told him to go on his way. Then, a little 
 after, the chief-deacon coming in informs him, 
 according to custom, that the people were wait- 
 ing in the church, and that it was incumbent on 
 him to proceed to the performance of the sacred 
 rites. Martin said to him in reply that it was 
 necessary that the poor man — referring to him- 
 self — should be clothed, and that he could not 
 possibly proceed to the church, unless the poor 
 man received a garment. But the deacon, not 
 understanding the true state of the case — that 
 Martin, while outwardly clad with a cloak, was 
 not seen by him to be naked underneath, at 
 last begins to complain that the poor man does 
 not make his appearance. ' Let the garment 
 which has been got ready,' said Martin, ' be 
 brought to me ; there will not be wanting the 
 poor man requiring to be clothed.' Then, at 
 length, the cleric, constrained by necessity, and 
 now in not the sweetest temper, hurriedly pro- 
 cures a rough 4 garment out of the nearest shop, 
 short and shaggy, and costing only five pieces 
 of silver, and lays it, in wrath, at the feet of 
 Martin. 'See,' cries he, 'there is the garment, 
 but the poor man is not here.' Martin, nothing 
 moved, bids him go to the door for a little, thus 
 
 this 
 
 the original, a very 
 
 1 " salutationibus vacantes 
 confused and obscure sentence. 
 
 2 Halm edits " tripeccias," which may have been the local 
 fatois for " tripetias " (ter-pes), corresponding to the Greek -pi;roi>s, 
 and meaning " a three-legged stool." 
 
 3 " Amphibalum ": a late Latin word corresponding to the more 
 classical toga. 
 
 * " bigerricam vestem." 
 
 obtaining secrecy, while, in his nakedness, he 
 clothes himself with the garment, striving with 
 all his might to keep secret what he had done. 
 But when do such things remain concealed in 
 the case of the saints desiring that they should 
 be so ? Whether they will or not, all are brought 
 to light. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " Martin, then, clothed in this garment, pro- 
 ceeds to offer the sacrifice 1 to God. And then 
 on that very day — I am about to narrate some- 
 thing wonderful — when he was engaged in 
 blessing the altar, as is usual, we beheld a globe 
 of fire dart from his head, so that, as it rose on 
 high, the flame produced a hair of extraordinary 
 length. And, although we saw this take place 
 on a very famous day in the midst of a great 
 multitude of people, only one of the virgins, one 
 of the presbyters, and only three of the monks, 
 witnessed the sight : but why the others did not 
 behold it is a matter not to be decided by our 
 judgment. 
 
 " About the same time, when my uncle Evan- 
 thius, a highly Christian man, although occupied 
 in the affairs of this world, had begun to be 
 afflicted with a very serious illness, to the ex- 
 treme danger of his life, he sent for Martin. 
 And, without any delay, Martin hastened towards 
 him ; but, before the blessed man had com- 
 pleted the half of the distance between them, 
 the sick man experienced the power of him that 
 was coming ; and, being immediately restored 
 to health, he himself met us as we were ap- 
 proaching. With many entreaties, he detained 
 Martin, who wished to return home on the fol- 
 lowing day ; for, in the meantime, a serpent had 
 struck with a deadly blow a boy belonging to 
 my uncle's family; and Evanthius himself, on 
 his own shoulders, carried him all but lifeless 
 through the force of the poison, and laid him at 
 the feet of the holy man, believing that nothing 
 was impossible to him. By this time, the ser- 
 pent had diffused its poison through all the 
 members of the boy : one could see his skin 
 swollen in all his veins, and his vitals strung up 
 like a leather-bottle. Martin stretched forth 
 his hand, felt all the limbs of the boy, and 
 placed his finger close to the little wound, at 
 which the animal had instilled the poison. 
 Then in truth — I am going to tell things won- 
 derful — we saw the whole poison, drawn from 
 every part of the body, gather quickly together 
 to Martin's finger ; and next, we beheld the 
 poison mixed with blood press through the 
 small puncture of the wound, just as a long line 
 
 1 " oblaturus sacrificium.' 
 
DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 39 
 
 of abundant milk is wont to flow forth from the 
 teats of goats or sheep, when these are squeezed 
 by the hand of shepherds. The boy rose up quite 
 well. We were amazed by so striking a miracle ; 
 and we acknowledged — as, indeed, truth com- 
 pelled us to do — that there was no one under 
 heaven who could equal the deeds of Martin. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " In the same way, some time afterwards, we 
 made a journey with him while he visited the 
 various parishes in his diocese. He had gone 
 forward a little by himself, some necessity or 
 other, I know not what, compelling us to keep 
 behind. In the meantime, a state-conveyance, 
 full of military men, was coming along the pub- 
 lic highway. But when the animals near the 
 side beheld Martin in his shaggy garment, with 
 a long black cloak over it, being alarmed, they 
 swerved a little in the opposite direction. Then, 
 the reins getting entangled, they threw into con- 
 fusion those extended lines in which, as you 
 have often seen, those wretched creatures are 
 held together ; and as they were with difficulty 
 rearranged, delay, of course, was caused to those 
 people hastening forward. Enraged by this in- 
 jury, the soldiers, with hasty leaps, made for the 
 ground. And then they began to belabor Mar- 
 tin with whips and staves ; and as he, in silence 
 and with incredible patience, submitted his back 
 to them smiting him, this roused the greater 
 fury in these wretches, for they became all the 
 more violent from the fact, that he, as if he did 
 not feel the blows showered upon him, seemed 
 to despise them. He fell almost lifeless to the 
 earth ; and we, ere long, found him covered 
 with blood, and wounded in every part of his 
 body. Lifting him up without delay, and plac- 
 ing him upon his own ass, while we execrated 
 the place of that cruel bloodshed, we hastened 
 off as speedily as possible. In the meantime, 
 the soldiers having returned to their conveyance, 
 after their fury, was satisfied, urge the beasts to 
 proceed in the direction in which they had been 
 going. But they all remained fixed to the spot, 
 as stiff as if they had been brazen statues, and 
 although their masters shouted at them, and the 
 sound of their whips echoed on every side, still 
 the animals never moved. These men next all 
 fall to with lashes; in fact, while punishing the 
 mules, they waste all the Gallic whips they had. 
 The whole of the neighboring wood is laid hold 
 of, and the beasts are beaten with enormous 
 cudgels ; but these cruel hands still effected 
 nothing : the animals continued to stand in one 
 and the same place like fixed effigies. The 
 wretched men knew not what to do, and they 
 could no longer conceal from themselves that, 
 
 in some way or other, there was a higher power 
 at work in the bosoms of these brutes, so that 
 they were, in fact, restrained by the interposition 
 of a deity. At length, therefore, returning to 
 themselves, they began to enquire who he was 
 whom but a little before they had scourged at 
 the same place ; and when, on pursuing the 
 investigation, they ascertained from those on 
 the way that it was Martin who had been so 
 cruelly beaten by them, then, indeed, the cause 
 of their misfortune appeared manifest to all ; 
 and they could no longer doubt that they were 
 kept back on account of the injury done to that 
 man. Accordingly, they all rush after us at full 
 speed, and, conscious of what they had done 
 and deserved, overwhelmed with shame, weep- 
 ing, and having their heads and faces smeared 
 with the dust with which they themselves had 
 besprinkled their bodies, they cast themselves 
 at Martin's feet, imploring his pardon, and 
 begging that he would allow them to proceed. 
 They added that they had been sufficiently pun- 
 ished by their conscience alone, and that they 
 deeply felt that the earth might swallow them 
 alive in that very spot, or that rather, they, losing 
 all sense, might justly be stiffened into immov- 
 able rocks, just as they had seen their beasts of 
 burden fixed to the places in which they stood ; 
 but they begged and entreated him to extend 
 to them pardon for their crime, and to allow 
 them to go on their way. The blessed man had 
 been aware, before they came up to us, that they 
 were in a state of detention, and had already 
 informed us of the fact ; however, he kindly 
 granted them forgiveness ; and, restoring their 
 animals, permitted them to pursue their journey. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " I have often noticed this, Sulpitius, that 
 Martin was accustomed to say to you, that such 
 an abundance x of power was by no means 
 granted him while he was a bishop, as he re- 
 membered to have possessed before he obtained 
 that office. Now, if this be true, or rather since 
 it is true, we may imagine how great those 
 things were which, while still a monk, he ac- 
 complished, and which, without any witness, he 
 effected apart by himself; since we have seen 
 that, while a bishop, he performed so great won- 
 ders before the eyes of all. Many, no doubt, of 
 his former achievements were known to the 
 world, and could not be hid, but those are said 
 to have been innumerable which, while he 
 avoided boastfulness, he kept concealed and 
 did not allow to come to the knowledge of man- 
 kind ; for, inasmuch as he transcended the capa- 
 
 1 " earn virtutum gratiam." 
 
40 
 
 DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 bilities of mere man, in a consciousness of his 
 own eminence, and trampling upon worldly 
 glory, he was content simply to have heaven as 
 a witness of his deeds. That this is true we 
 can judge even from these things which are well 
 known to us, and could not be hid ; since e.g. 
 before he became a bishop he restored two dead 
 men to life, facts of which your book has treated 
 pretty fully, but, while he was bishop, he raised 
 up only one, a point which I am surprised you 
 have not noticed. I myself am a witness to this 
 latter occurrence ; but, probably, you have no 
 doubts about the matter being duly testified. 
 At any rate, I will set before you the affair as it 
 happened. For some reason, I know not what, 
 we were on our way to the town of the Carnutes. 2 
 In the meantime, as we pass by a certain village 
 most populous in inhabitants, an enormous crowd 
 went forth to meet us, consisting entirely of 
 heathen ; for no one in that village was ac- 
 quainted with a Christian. Nevertheless, owing 
 to the report of the approach of so great a man, 
 a multitude of those streaming to one point had 
 filled all the widely spreading plains. Martin 
 felt that some work was to be performed ; and 
 as the spirit within him was thus moving him, 
 he was deeply excited. He at once began to 
 preach to the heathen the word of God, so 
 utterly different from that of man, often groaning 
 that so great a crowd should be ignorant of the 
 Lord the Saviour. In the meantime, while an 
 incredible multitude had surrounded us, a cer- 
 tain woman, whose son had recently died, began 
 to present, with outstretched hands, the lifeless 
 body to the blessed man, saying, "We know 
 that you are a friend of God : restore me my 
 son, who is my only one." The rest of the mul- 
 titude joined her, and added their entreaties to 
 those of the mother. Martin perceiving, as he 
 afterwards told us, that he could manifest power, 
 in order to the salvation of those waiting for its 
 display, received the body of the deceased into 
 his own hands ; and when, in the sight of all, he 
 had fallen on his knees, and then arose, after 
 his prayer was finished, he restored to its mother 
 the child brought back to life. Then, truly, the 
 whole multitude, raising a shout to heaven, ac- 
 knowledged Christ as God, and finally began to 
 rush in crowds to the knees of the blessed man, 
 sincerely imploring that he would make them 
 Christians. Nor did he delay to do so. As 
 they were in the middle of the plain, he made 
 them all catechumens, by placing his hand upon 
 the whole of them ; while, at the same time, 
 turning to us, he said that, not without reason, 
 were these made catechumens in that plain 
 where the martyrs were wont to be consecrated." 
 
 2 The Carnutes dwelt on both sides of the Loire, and their chief 
 town, here referred to, was Autricum, now Chartres. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 "You have conquered, O Gaul," said Postu- 
 mianus, " you have conquered, although cer- 
 tainly not me, who am, on the contrary, an 
 upholder of Martin, and who have always known 
 and believed all these things about that man ; 
 but you have conquered all the eremites and 
 anchorites. For no one of them, like your 
 friend, or rather our friend, Martin, ruled over 
 deaths of all 1 kinds. And Sulpitius there justly 
 compared him to the apostles and prophets, 
 inasmuch as the power of his faith, and the 
 works accomplished by his power, bear witness 
 that he was, in all points, like them. But go 
 on, I beg of you, although we can hear nothing 
 more striking than we have heard — still, go on, 
 O Gaul, to set forth what still remains of what 
 you have to say concerning Martin. For the 
 mind is eager to know even the least and com- 
 monest of his doings, since there is no doubt 
 that the least of his actions surpass the greatest 
 deeds of others." 
 
 "I will do so," replies the Gaul, "but I did 
 not myself witness what I am about to relate, 
 for it took place before I became an associate 
 of Martin's ; still, the fact is well known, having 
 been spread through the world by the accounts 
 given by faithful brethren, who were present on 
 the occasion. Well, just about the time when 
 he first became a bishop, a necessity arose for 
 his visiting the imperial 2 court. Valentinian, 
 the elder, then was at the head of affairs. 
 When he came to know that Martin was asking 
 for things which he did not incline to grant, he 
 ordered him to be kept from entering the doors 
 of the palace. Besides his own unkind and 
 haughty temper, his wife Arriana had urged 
 him to this course, and had wholly alienated 
 him from the holy man, so that he should not 
 show him the regard which was due to him. 
 Martin, accordingly, when he had once and 
 again endeavored to procure an interview with 
 the haughty prince, had recourse to his well- 
 known weapons — he clothes himself in sack- 
 cloth, scatters ashes upon his person, abstains 
 from food and drink, and gives himself, night 
 and day, to continuous prayer. On the seventh 
 day, an angel appeared to him, and tells him to 
 go with confidence to the palace, for that the 
 royal doors, although closed against him, would 
 open of their own accord, and that the haughty 
 spirit of the emperor would be softened. Mar- 
 tin, therefore, being encouraged by the address 
 of the angel who thus appeared to him, and 
 trusting to his assistance, went to the palace. 
 The doors stood open, and no one opposed his 
 
 1 " mortibus." 
 
 2 " adire comitatum" 
 in writers of the period. 
 
 this is a common meaning of comitatus 
 
DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 41 
 
 entrance ; so that, going in, he came at last into 
 the presence of the king, without any one seek- 
 ing to hinder him. The king, however, seeing 
 him at a distance as he approached, and gnash- 
 ing his teeth that he had been admitted, did not, 
 by any means, condescend to rise up as Martin 
 advanced, until fire covered the royal seat, and 
 until the flames seized on a part of the royal 
 person. In this way the haughty monarch is 
 driven from his throne, and, much against his 
 will, rises up to receive Martin. He even gave 
 many embraces to the man whom he had 
 formerly determined to despise, and, coming to 
 a better frame of mind, he confessed that he 
 perceived the exercise of Divine power ; without 
 waiting even to listen to the requests of Martin, 
 he granted all he desired before being asked. 
 Afterwards the king often invited the holy man 
 both to conferences and entertainments ; and, 
 in the end, when he was about to depart, offered 
 him many presents, which, however, the blessed 
 man, jealously maintaining his own poverty, 
 totally refused, as he did on all similar occa- 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "And as we have, once for all, entered the 
 palace, I shall string together events which there 
 took place, although they happened at different 
 times. And, indeed, it does not seem to me 
 right that I should pass unmentioned the ex- 
 ample of admiration for Martin which was 
 shown by a faithful queen. Maximus then ruled 
 the state, a man worthy of being extolled in * his 
 whole life, if only he had been permitted to re- 
 ject a crown thrust upon him by the soldiery in 
 an illegal tumult, or had been able to keep out of 
 civil war. But the fact is, that a great empire 
 can neither be refused without danger, nor can 
 be preserved without war. He frequently sent 
 for Martin, received him into the palace, and 
 treated him with honor ; his whole speech with 
 him was concerning things present, things to 
 come, the glory of the faithful, and the immor- 
 tality of the saints ; while, in the meantime, the 
 queen hung upon the lips of Martin, and not 
 inferior to her mentioned in the Gospel, washed 
 the feet of the holy man with tears and wiped 
 them with the hairs of her head. Martin, 
 though no woman had hitherto touched him, 
 could not escape her assiduity, or rather her 
 servile attentions. She did not think of the 
 wealth of the kingdom, the dignity of the em- 
 pire, the crown, or the purple ; only stretched 
 upon the ground, she could not be torn away 
 from the feet of Martin. At last she begs of 
 
 1 Halm's text is here followed. The older texts, which read " vir 
 omni vitae merito praedicandus," seem hardly intelligible. 
 
 her husband (saying that both of them should 
 constrain Martin to agree) that all other attend- 
 ants should be removed from the holy man, and 
 that she alone should wait upon him at meals. 
 Nor could the blessed man refuse too obsti- 
 nately. His modest entertainment is got up by 
 the hands of the queen ; she herself arranges 
 his seat for him ; places his table ; furnishes 
 him with water for his hands ; and serves up the 
 food which she had herself cooked. While he 
 was eating, she, with her eyes fixed on the 
 ground, stood motionless at a distance, after 
 the fashion of servants, displaying in all points 
 the modesty and humility of a ministering ser- 
 vant. She herself mixed for him his drink and 
 presented it. When the meal was over, she 
 collected the fragments and crumbs of the 
 bread that had been used, preferring with true 
 faithfulness these remains to imperial banquets. 
 Blessed woman ! worthy, by the display of so 
 great piety, of being compared to her who came 
 from the ends of the earth to hear Solomon, if 
 we merely regard the plain letter of the history. 
 But the faith of the two queens is to be com- 
 pared (and let it be granted me to say this, 
 setting aside the majesty of the secret 2 truth 
 implied): the one obtained her desire to hear 
 a wise man ; the other was thought worthy not 
 only to hear a wise man, but to wait upon 
 him." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 To these sayings Postumianus replies : " While 
 listening to you, O Gaul, I have for a long time 
 been admiring the faith of the queen ; but to 
 what does that statement of yours lead, that no 
 woman was ever said to have stood more close 
 to Martin? For let us consider that that queen 
 not only stood near him, but even ministered 
 unto him. I really fear lest those persons who 
 freely mingle among women should to some ex- 
 tent defend themselves by that example." 
 
 Then said the Gaul : " Why do you not notice, 
 as grammarians are wont to teach us, the place, 
 the time, and the person? For only set before 
 your eyes the picture of one kept in the palace 
 of the emperor importuned by prayers, con- 
 strained by the faith of the queen, and bound 
 by the necessities of the time, to do his utmost 
 that he might set free those shut up in prison, 
 might restore those who had been sent into 
 exile, and might recover goods that had been 
 taken away, — of how much importance do you 
 think that these things should have appeared to 
 a bishop, so as to lead him, in order to the 
 accomplishment of them all, to abate not a lit- 
 tle of the rigor of his general scheme of life? 
 
 " Quod mini liceat separata mysterii majestate dixisse." 
 
42 
 
 DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 However, as you think that some will make a 
 bad use of the example thus furnished them, I 
 shall only say that those will be truly happy if 
 they do not fall short of the excellence of the 
 example in question. For let them consider 
 that the facts of the case are these : once in 
 his life only, and that when in his seventieth 
 year, was Martin served and waited upon at his 
 meals, not by a free sort of widow, nor by a 
 wanton virgin, but by a queen, who lived under 
 the authority of a husband, and who was sup- 
 ported in her conduct by the entreaties of her 
 husband, that she might be allowed so to act. 
 It is further to be observed that she did not re- 
 cline with Martin at the entertainment, nor did 
 she venture even to partake in the feast, but 
 simply gave her services in waiting upon him. 
 Learn, therefore, the proper course ; let a ma- 
 tron serve thee, and not rule thee ; and let 
 her serve, but not recline along with thee ; just 
 as Martha, of whom we read, waited upon the 
 Lord without being called to partake in the 
 feast : nay, she who chose rather simply to hear 
 the word was preferred to her that served. But 
 in the case of Martin, the queen spoken of ful- 
 filled both parts : she both served like Martha, 
 and listened like Mary. If any one, then, de- 
 sires to make use of this example, let him keep 
 to it in all particulars ; let the cause be the 
 same, the person the same, the service the 
 same, and the entertainment the same, — and 
 let the thing occur once only in one's whole life." 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 "Admirably," exclaimed Postumianus, "does 
 your speech bind those friends of ours from 
 going beyond the example of Martin ; but I own 
 to you my belief that these remarks of yours will 
 fall upon deaf ears. For if we were to follow the 
 ways of Martin, we should never need to defend 
 ourselves in the case of kissing, and we should be 
 free from all the reproaches of sinister opinion. 
 But as you are wont to say, when you are ac- 
 cused of being too fond of eating, 'We are 
 Gauls,' so we, for our part, who dwell in this 
 district, will never be reformed either by the ex- 
 ample of Martin, or by your dissertations. But 
 while we have been discussing these points at so 
 great length, why do you, Sulpitius, preserve such 
 an obstinate silence?" 
 
 " Well, for my part," replied I, " I not only 
 keep silence, but for a long time past I have 
 determined to be silent upon such points. For, 
 because I rebuked a certain spruce gadding- 
 about widow, who dressed expensively, and 
 lived in a somewhat loose manner, and also a 
 virgin, who was following somewhat indecently 
 a certain young man who was dear to me, — al- 
 
 though, to be sure, I had often heard her blam- 
 ing others who acted in such a manner, — I 
 raised up against me such a degree of hatred on 
 the part of all the women and all the monks, 
 that both bands entered upon sworn war against 
 me. Wherefore, be quiet, I beg of you, lest 
 even what we are saying should tend to increase 
 their animosity towards me. Let us entirely blot 
 out these people from our memory, and let us 
 rather return to Martin. Do thou, friend Gaul, 
 as you have begun, carry out the work you have 
 taken in hand." 
 
 Then says he : "I have really related al- 
 ready so many things to you, that my speech 
 ought to have satisfied your desires ; but, because 
 I am not at liberty to refuse compliance with 
 your wishes, I shall continue to speak as long as 
 the day lasts. For, in truth, when I glance at 
 that straw, which is being prepared for our beds, 
 there comes into my mind a recollection re- 
 specting the straw on which Martin had lain, 
 that a miracle was wrought in connection with 
 it. The affair took place as follows. Claudio- 
 magus is a village on the confines of the Bituri- 
 ges and the Turoni. The church there is cele- 
 brated for the piety of the saints, and is not less 
 illustrious for the multitude of the holy virgins. 
 Well, Martin, being in the habit of passing that 
 way, had an apartment in the private part of the 
 church. After he left, all the virgins used to 
 rush into that retirement : they kiss 1 every place 
 where the blessed man had either sat or stood, 
 and distribute among themselves the very straw 
 on which he had lain. One of them, a few days 
 afterwards, took a part of the straw which she 
 had collected for a blessing to herself, and hung 
 it from the neck of a possessed person, whom a 
 spirit of error was troubling. There was no 
 delay ; but sooner than one could speak the 
 demon was cast out, and the person was cured. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " About the same time, a cow which a demon 
 harassed met Martin as he was returning from 
 Treves. That cow, leaving its proper herd, was 
 accustomed to attack human beings, and had 
 already seriously gored many with its horns. 
 Now, when she was coming near us, those who 
 followed her from a distance began to warn us, 
 with a loud voice, to beware of her. But after 
 she had in great fury come pretty near to us, 
 with rage in her eyes, Martin, lifting up his 
 hand, ordered the animal to halt, and she im- 
 mediately stood stock-still at his word. Upon 
 this, Martin perceived a demon sitting upon her 
 back, and reproving it, he exclaimed, ' Begone, 
 
 l "adlambunt": perhaps only " touch." 
 
DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 43 
 
 thou deadly being ; leave the innocent beast, and 
 cease any longer to torment it.' The evil spirit 
 obeyed and departed. And the heifer had sense 
 enough to understand that she was set free ; for, 
 peace being restored to her, she fell at the feet 
 of the holy man ; and on Martin directing her, 
 she made for her own herd, and, quieter than 
 any sheep, she joined the rest of the band. 
 This also was the time at which he had no sen- 
 sation of being burnt, although placed in the 
 midst of the flames ; but I do not think it nec- 
 essary for me to give an account of this, because 
 Sulpitius there, though passing over it in his 
 book, has nevertheless pretty fully narrated it in 
 the epistle which he sent to Eusebius, who was 
 then a presbyter, and is now a bishop. I believe, 
 Postumianus, you have either read this letter, or, 
 if it is still unknown to you, you may easily ob- 
 tain it, when you please, from the bookcase. 
 I shall simply narrate particulars which he has 
 omitted. 
 
 " Well, on a certain occasion, when he was 
 going round the various parishes, we came upon 
 a band of huntsmen. The dogs were pursuing 
 a hare, and the little animal was already much 
 exhausted by the long run it had had. When 
 it perceived no means of escape in the plains 
 spreading far on every side, and was several 
 times just on the point of being captured, it tried 
 to delay the threatened death by frequent doub- 
 lings. Now the blessed man pitied the danger 
 of the creature with pious feelings, and com- 
 manded the dogs to give up following it, and to 
 permit it to get safe away. Instantly, at the 
 first command they heard, they stood quite 
 still : one might have thought them bound, or 
 rather arrested, so as 'to stand immovable in 
 their own footprints. In this way, through her 
 pursuers being stopped as if tied together, the 
 hare got safe away. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " Moreover, it will be worth while to relate 
 also some of his familiar sayings, since they 
 were all salted with spiritual instruction. He 
 happened to see a sheep 1 that had recently 
 been sheared ; and, ' See,' says he, ' she has 
 fulfilled the precept of the Gospel : she had two 
 coats, and one of them she has given to him 
 who had none : thus, therefore, ye ought also to 
 do.' Also, when he perceived a swineherd in 
 a garment of skin, cold and, in fact, all but 
 naked, he exclaimed : ' Look at Adam, cast out 
 of Paradise, how he feeds his swine in a gar- 
 ment of skin ; but let us, laying aside that old 
 Adam, who still remains in that man, rather put 
 
 1 Halm has here an unintelligible reHing, probably a misprint 
 — " quem recens tonsam forte conspexerat." 
 
 on the new Adam.' Oxen had, in one part, 
 eaten up the grass of the meadows ; pigs also 
 had dug up some portions of them with their 
 snouts ; while the remaining portion, which 
 continued uninjured, flourished, as if painted 
 with variously tinted flowers. 'That part,' said 
 he, ' which has been eaten down by cattle, al- 
 though it has not altogether lost the beauty of 
 grass, yet retains no grandeur of flowers, con- 
 veys to us a representation of marriage ; that 
 part, again, which the pigs, unclean animals, had 
 dug up, presents a loathsome picture of fornica- 
 tion ; while the remaining portion, which had 
 sustained no injury, sets forth the glory of vir- 
 ginity ; — it flourishes with abundance of grass ; 
 the fruits of the field abound in it ; and, decked 
 with flowers to the very extreme of beauty, it 
 shines as if adorned with glittering gems. 
 Blessed is such beauty and worthy of God ; for 
 nothing is to be compared with virginity. Thus, 
 then, those who set marriage side by side with 
 fornication grievously err ; and those who think 
 that marriage is to be placed on an equal foot- 
 ing with virginity are utterly wretched and 
 foolish. But this distinction must be maintained 
 by wise people, that marriage belongs to those 
 things which may be excused, while virginity 
 points to glory, and fornication must incur pun- 
 ishment unless its guilt is purged away through 
 atonement.' 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 " A certain soldier had renounced the mili- 
 tary * life in the Church, having professed him- 
 self a monk, and had erected a cell for himself 
 at a distance in the desert, as if with the pur- 
 pose of leading the life of an eremite. But 
 in course of time the crafty adversary harassed 
 his unspiritual 2 nature with various thoughts, to 
 the effect that, changing his mind, he should 
 express a desire that his wife, whom Martin had 
 ordered to have a place in the nunnery 3 of the 
 young women, should rather dwell along with 
 him. The courageous eremite, therefore, visits 
 Martin, and makes known to him what he had 
 in his mind. But Martin denied very strongly 
 that a woman could, in inconsistent fashion, be 
 joined again to a man who was now a monk, 
 and not a husband. At last, when the soldier 
 was insisting on the point in question ; asserting 
 that no evil would follow from carrying out his 
 purpose ; that he simply desired to possess the 
 solace of his wife's company ; and that there 
 was no fear of his again returning to his own 
 
 1 "cingulum": lit. a girdle, or sword-belt, and then put for 
 military service. 
 
 2 " brutum pectus": the words seem to refer to the man as 
 i//vx"<05, in opposition to iri'eu/j.aTtKOS. 
 
 3 " monasterio." 
 
44 
 
 DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 pursuits ; adding that he was a soldier of Christ, 
 and that she also had taken the oath of alle- 
 giance in the same service ; and that the bishop 
 therefore should allow to serve as soldiers to- 
 gether people who were saints, and who, in vir- 
 tue of their faith, totally ignored the question of 
 sex, — -then Martin (I am going to repeat his 
 very words to you) exclaimed : ' Tell me if you 
 have ever been in war, and if you have ever 
 stood in the line of battle?' In answer he 
 said, ' Frequently ; I have often stood in line of 
 battle, and been present in war.' On this 
 Martin replies : ' Well, then, tell me, did you 
 ever in a line which was prepared with arms 
 for battle, or, having already advanced near, 
 was fighting against a hostile army with drawn 
 sword — did you ever see any woman standing 
 there, or fighting ? ' Then at length the soldier 
 became confused and blushed, while he gave 
 thanks that he had not been permitted to fol- 
 low his own evil counsel, and at the same time 
 had not been put right by the use of any harsh 
 language, but by a true and rational analogy, 
 connected with the person of a soldier. Mar- 
 tin, for his part, turning to us (for a great 
 crowd of brethren had surrounded him), said : 
 ' Let not a woman enter the camp of men, but 
 let the line of soldiers remain separate, and let 
 the females, dwelling in their own tent, be re- 
 mote from that of men. For this renders an 
 army ridiculous, if a female crowd is mixed with 
 the regiments of men. Let the soldier occupy 
 the line, let the soldier fight in the plain, but 
 let the woman keep herself within the protection 
 of the walls. She, too, certainly has her own 
 glory, if, when her husband is absent, she main- 
 tains her chastity ; and the first excellence, as 
 well as completed victory of that, is, that she 
 should not be seen.' 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " I believe, my dear Sulpitius, that you re- 
 member with what emphasis he extolled to us 
 (when you too were present) that virgin who 
 had so completely withdrawn herself from the 
 eyes of all men, that she did not admit to her 
 presence Martin himself, when he wished to visit 
 her in the discharge of duty. For when he was 
 passing by the little property, within which for 
 several years she had chastely confined herself, 
 having heard of her faith and excellence, he 
 turned out of his way that, as a bishop, he might 
 honor, with pious respect, a girl of such eminent 
 merit. We who journeyed with him thought 
 that that virgin would rejoice, inasmuch as she 
 was to obtain such a testimony to her virtue, 
 while a priest of so great reputation, departing 
 from his usual rigor of conduct, paid her a visit. 
 
 But she did not relax those bonds of a most 
 severe method of lifej which she had imposed 
 upon herself, even by allowing herself to see 
 Martin. And thus the blessed man, having 
 received, through another woman, her praise- 
 worthy apology, joyfully departed from the 
 doors of her who had not permitted herself to 
 be seen or saluted. O glorious virgin, who did 
 not allow herself to be looked upon even by 
 Martin ! O blessed Martin, who did not regard 
 that repulse as being any insult to himself, but, 
 extolling with exultant heart her excellence, 
 rejoiced in an example only too rare in that 
 locality ! Well, when approaching night had 
 compelled us to stay at no great distance from 
 her humble dwelling, that same virgin sent a 
 present to the blessed man ; and Martin did 
 what he had never done before (for he accepted 
 a present or gift from nobody), he refused none 
 of those things which the estimable virgin had 
 sent him, declaring that her blessing was by no 
 means to be rejected by a priest, since she was 
 indeed to be placed before many priests. Let, 
 I beg, virgins listen to that example, so that they 
 shall, if they desire to close their doors to the 
 wicked, even shut them against the good ; and 
 that the ill-disposed may have no free access to 
 them, they shall not fear even to exclude priests 
 from their society. Let the whole world listen 
 attentively to this : a virgin did not permit her- 
 self to be looked upon by Martin. And it was 
 no common l priest whom she repulsed, but the 
 girl refused to come under the eyes of a man 
 whom it was the salvation of onlookers to be- 
 hold. But what priest, besides Martin, would 
 not have regarded this as doing an injury to 
 him? What irritation and fury would he have 
 conceived in his mind against that virgin? He 
 would have deemed her a heretic ; and would 
 have resolved that she should be laid under an 
 anathema. And how surely would such a man 
 have preferred to that blessed soul those virgins 
 who are always throwing themselves in the way 
 of the priest, who get up sumptuous entertain- 
 ments, and who recline at table with the rest ! 
 But whither is my speech carrying me ? That 
 somewhat too free manner of speaking must be 
 checked, lest perchance it may give offense to 
 some ; for words of reproach will not profit the 
 unfaithful, while the example quoted will be 
 enough for the faithful. At the same time, I 
 wish so to extol the virtue of this virgin, as 
 nevertheless to think that no deduction is to be 
 made from the excellence of those others, who 
 often came from remote regions for the purpose 
 of seeing Martin, since indeed, with the same 
 object in view, even angels ofttimes visited the 
 blessed man. 
 
 1 " quemcumque," in the sense of qualemcumque, which is, in 
 fact, found in some of the MSS. 
 
DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 45 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " But in what I am now about to narrate, I 
 possess you, Sulpitius " (here he looked at me) 
 " as a fellow-witness. One day, I and Sulpitius 
 there were watching before Martin's door, and 
 had already sat in silence for several hours. We 
 did so with deep reverence and awe, as if we 
 were carrying out a watch prescribed to us 
 before the tent of an angel ; while, all the time, 
 the door of his cell being closed, he did not 
 know that we were there. Meanwhile, we heard 
 the sound of people conversing, and by and by 
 we were filled with a kind of awe and amaze- 
 ment, for we could not help perceiving that 
 something divine was going on. After nearly 
 two hours, Martin comes out to us ; and then 
 our friend Sulpitius (for no one was accustomed 
 to speak to him more familiarly) began to en- 
 treat him to make known to us, piously enquiring 
 on the subject, what meant that sort of Divine 
 awe which we confessed we had both felt, and 
 with whom he had been conversing in his cell. 
 We added that, as we stood before the door, we 
 had undoubtedly heard a feeble sound of people 
 talking, but had scarcely understood it. Then 
 he after a long delay (but there was really noth- 
 ing which Sulpitius could not extort from him 
 even against his will : I am about to relate things 
 somewhat difficult of belief, but, as Christ is my 
 witness, I lie not, unless any one is so impious 
 as to think that Martin himself lied) saicL: ' I 
 will tell you, but I beg you will not speak of it to 
 any one else. Agnes, Thecla, and Mary were 
 there with me.' He proceeded to describe to 
 us the face and general aspect of each. And 
 he acknowledged that, not merely on that day, 
 but frequently, he received visits from them. 
 Nor did he deny that Peter also and Paul, the 
 Apostles, were pretty frequently seen by him. 
 Moreover, he was in the habit of rebuking the 
 demons by their special names, according as they 
 severally came to him. He found Mercury a 
 cause of special annoyance, while he said that 
 Jupiter was stupid and doltish. I am aware 
 that these things seemed incredible even to 
 many who dwelt in the same monastery ; and 
 far less can I expect that all who simply hear of 
 them will believe them. For unless Martin had 
 lived such an inestimable life, and displayed 
 such excellence, he would by no means be re- 
 garded among us as having been endowed with so 
 great glory. And yet it is not at all wonderful 
 that human infirmity doubted concerning the 
 works of Martin, when we see that many at the 
 present day do not even believe the Gospels. 
 But we have ourselves had personal knowledge 
 and experience, that angels often appeared and 
 spoke familiarly with Martin. As bearing upon 
 
 this, I am to narrate a matter, of small impor- 
 tance indeed, but still I will state it. A synod, 
 composed of bishops, was held at Nemausus, 
 and while he had refused to attend it, he wass 
 nevertheless desirous of knowing what was done 
 at it. It so happened that our friend Sulpitiu? 
 was then on board ship with him, but, as was 
 his custom, he kept his place at a distance from 
 the rest, in a retired part of the vessel. There 
 an angel announced to him what had taken 
 place in the synod. And when, afterwards, we 
 carefully enquired into the time at which the 
 council was held, we found, beyond all doubt, 
 that that was the very day of the council, and 
 that those things were there decreed by the 
 bishops which the angel had announced to 
 Martin. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " But when we questioned him concerning the 
 end of the world, he said to us that Nero and 
 Antichrist have first to come ; that Nero will 
 rule in the Western portion of the world, after 
 having subdued ten kings ; and that a persecu- 
 tion will be carried on by him, with the view of 
 compelling men to worship the idols of the 
 Gentiles. He also said that Antichrist, on the 
 other hand, would first seize upon the empire of 
 the East, having his seat and the capital of his 
 kingdom at Jerusalem ; while both the city and 
 the temple would be restored by him. He 
 added that his persecution would have for its 
 object to compel men to deny Christ as God, 
 while he maintained rather that he himself was 
 Christ, and ordered all men to be circumcised, 
 according to the law. He further said that 
 Nero was to be destroyed by Antichrist, and 
 that the whole world, and all nations, were to 
 be reduced under the power of Antichrist, until 
 that impious one should be overthrown by the 
 coming of Christ. He told us, too, that there 
 was no doubt but that Antichrist, having been 
 conceived by an evil spirit, was already born, 
 and had, by this time, reached the years of boy- 
 hood, while he would assume power as soon as 
 he reached the proper age. Now, this is the 
 eighth year since we heard these words from his 
 lips : you may conjecture, then, how nearly 
 about to happen are those things which are 
 feared in the future." 
 
 As our friend the Gaul was emphatically 
 speaking thus, and had not yet finished what he 
 intended to relate, a boy of the family entered 
 with the announcement that the presbyter Re- 
 frigerius was standing at the door. We began 
 to doubt whether it would be better to hear the 
 Gaul further, or to go and welcome that man 
 whom we so greatly loved, and who had come 
 
4 6 
 
 DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 to pay his respects to us, when our friend the 
 Gaul remarked : " Even although this most holy 
 priest had not arrived, this talk of ours would 
 have had to be cut short, for the approach of 
 night was itself urging us to finish the discourse 
 which has been so far continued. But inas- 
 much as all things bearing upon the excellences 
 of Martin have by no means yet been men- 
 tioned, let what you have heard suffice for 
 to-day : to-morrow we shall proceed to what re- 
 mains." This promise of our Gallic friend 
 being equally acceptable to us all, we rose up. 
 
 DIALOGUE III. 
 
 THE VIRTUES OF MARTIN CONTINUED. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " It is daylight, our Gallic friend, and you 
 must get up. For, as you see, both Postumi- 
 anus is urgent, and this presbyter, who was yes- 
 terday admitted to hear what was going on, ex- 
 pects that what you put off narrating with regard 
 to our beloved Martin till to-day, you should 
 now, in fulfillment of your promise, proceed to 
 tell. He is not, indeed, ignorant of all the 
 things which are to be related, but knowledge is 
 sweet and pleasant even to one who goes over 
 again things already known to him ; since, in- 
 deed, it has been so arranged by nature that 
 one rejoices with a better conscience in his 
 knowledge of things which he is sure, through 
 the testimony borne to them by many, are not 
 in any degree uncertain. For this man, too, 
 having been a follower of Martin from his early 
 youth, has indeed been acquainted with all his 
 doings ; but he gladly hears over again things 
 already known. And I will confess to thee, O 
 Gaul, that the virtues of Martin have often been 
 heard of by me, since, in fact, I have committed 
 to writing many things regarding him ; but 
 through the admiration I feel for his deeds, 
 those things are always new to me which, al- 
 though I have already heard them, are, over and 
 over again, repeated concerning him. Where- 
 fore, we congratulate you that Refrigerius has 
 been added to us as a hearer, all the 1 more 
 earnestly that Postumianus is manifesting such 
 eagerness, because he hastens, as it were, to con- 
 vey a knowledge of these things to the East, 
 and is now to hear the truth from you confirmed, 
 so to speak, by witnesses." 
 
 As I was saying these words, and as the Gaul 
 was now ready to resume his narrative, there 
 rushes in upon us a crowd of monks, Evagrius 
 the presbyter, xAper, Sabbatius, Agricola ; and, a 
 
 1 The original is here very obscuve. 
 
 little after, there enters the presbyter ^Etherius, 
 with Calupio the deacon, and Amator the sub- 
 deacon ; lastly, Aurelius the presbyter, a very 
 dear friend of mine, who came from a longer 
 distance, rushes up out of breath. " Why," I 
 enquire, " do you so suddenly and unexpectedly 
 run together to us from so many different quar- 
 ters, and at so early an hour in the morning? " 
 " We," they reply, " heard yesterday that your 
 friend the Gaul spent the whole day in narrating 
 the virtues of Martin, and, as night overtook 
 him, put off the rest until to-day : wherefore, we 
 have made haste to furnish him with a crowded 
 audience, as he speaks about such interesting 
 matters." In the meantime, we are informed 
 that a multitude of lay people are standing at 
 the door, not venturing to enter, but begging, 
 nevertheless, that, they might be admitted. 
 Then Aper declares, " It is by no means proper 
 that these people should be mixed up with us, 
 for they have come to hear, rather from curi- 
 osity than piety." I was grieved for the sake 
 of those who ought not, as he thought, to be 
 admitted, but all that I could obtain, and with 
 difficulty, was that they should admit Eucher- 
 ius from among the lieutenants, 2 and Celsus, a 
 man of consular rank, while the rest were kept 
 back. We then place the Gaul in the middle 
 seat ; and he, after long keeping silence, in har- 
 mony with his well-known modesty, at length 
 began as follows. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " You have assembled, my pious and eloquent 
 friends, to hear me ; but, as I presume, you 
 have brought to the task religious rather than 
 learned ears ; for you are to listen to me simply 
 as a witness to the faith, and not as speaking 
 with the fluency of an orator. Now, I shall not 
 repeat the things which were spoken yesterday : 
 those who did not hear them can become ac- 
 quainted with them by means of the written 
 records. Postumianus expects something new, 
 intending to make known what he hears to the 
 East, that it may not, when Martin is brought 
 into comparison, esteem itself above the West. 
 And first, my mind inclines to set forth an inci- 
 dent respecting which Refrigerius has just whis- 
 pered in my ear : the affair took place in the 
 city of Carnutes. A certain father of a family 
 ventured to bring to Martin his daughter of 
 twelve years old, who had been dumb from her 
 birth, begging that the blessed man would loose, 
 by his pious merits, her tongue, which was thus 
 tied. He, giving way to the bishops Valentinus 
 and Victricius, who then happened to be by his 
 
 ex vicarns. 
 
DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 47 
 
 side, declared that he was unequal to so great 
 an undertaking, but that nothing was impossible 
 to them, as if holier than himself. But they, 
 adding their pious entreaties, with suppliant 
 voices, to those of the father, begged Martin to 
 accomplish what was hoped for. He made no 
 further delay, — being admirable in both re- 
 spects, in the display, first of all, of humility, 
 and then in not putting off a pious duty, — but 
 orders the crowd of people standing round to 
 be removed ; and while the bishops only, and 
 the father of the girl, were present, he pros- 
 trates himself in prayer, after his usual fashion. 
 He then blesses a little oil, while he utters the 
 formula of exorcism ; and holding the tongue 
 of the girl with his fingers, he thus pours the 
 consecrated liquid into her mouth. Nor did 
 the result of the power thus exerted disappoint 
 the holy man. He asks her the name of her 
 father, and she instantly replied. The father 
 cries out, embracing the knees of Martin, with 
 a mixture of joy and tears ; and while all 
 around are amazed, he confesses that then for 
 the first time he listened to the voice of his 
 daughter. And that this may not appear in- 
 credible to any one, let Evagrius, who is here, 
 furnish you with a testimony of its truth ; for 
 the thing took place in his very presence. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 "The following is a small matter which I 
 learned lately from the narration of Arpagius 
 the presbyter, but I do not think it ought to be 
 passed over. The wife of the courtier Avitianus 
 had sent some oil to Martin, that he might bless 
 it (such is the custom) so as to be ready when 
 needful to meet different causes of disease. It 
 was contained in a glass jar of a shape which, 
 round throughout, gradually bulges : out towards 
 the middle, with a long neck ; but the hol- 
 low of the extended neck was not filled, be- 
 cause it is the custom to fill vessels of the kind 
 in such a way that the top may be left free 
 for the knobs which stop up the jar. The pres- 
 byter testified that he saw the oil increase under 
 the blessing of Martin, so much that, the abun- 
 dance of it overflowing the jar, it ran down from 
 the top in every direction. He added that it 
 bubbled up with the same 2 effect, while the vessel 
 was being carried back to the mistress of the 
 household ; for the oil so steadily flowed over in 
 the hands of the boy carrying it, that the abun- 
 dance of the liquid, thus pouring down, covered 
 all his garment. He said, moreover, that the 
 lady received the vessel so full even to the brim, 
 
 1 The text of this sentence is very uncertain, and the meaning 
 somewhat obscure. 
 
 2 Here, again, the text is in confusion. 
 
 that (as the same presbyter tells 3 us at the pres- 
 ent day) there was no room in that jar for insert- 
 ing the stopper by which people are accustomed 
 to close those vessels, the contents of which are 
 to be preserved with special care. That, too, 
 was a remarkable thing that happened to this 
 man." Here he looked at me. " He had set down 
 a glass vessel containing oil blessed by Martin in 
 a pretty high window ; and a boy of the family, 
 not knowing that a jar was there, drew towards 
 him the cloth covering' it, with rather much vio- 
 lence. The vessel, in consequence, fell down 
 on the marble pavement. Upon this, all were 
 filled with dread lest the blessing of God, be- 
 stowed on the vessel by Martin, had been lost ; 
 but the jar was found as safe as ever, just as if 
 it had fallen on the softest feathers. Now, this 
 result should be ascribed, not so much to chance, 
 as to the power of Martin, whose blessing could 
 not possibly perish. 
 
 " There is this, too, which was effected by a 
 certain person, whose name, because he is pres- 
 ent, and has forbidden it to be mentioned, shall 
 be suppressed : Saturninus too, who is now with 
 us, was present on the occasion referred to. A 
 dog was barking at us in a somewhat disagree- 
 able manner. ■ ' I command thee,' said the per- 
 son in question, ' in the name of Martin, to be 
 quiet.' The dog — his barking seemed to stick 
 in his throat, and one might have thought that 
 his tongue had been cut out — was silent. 
 Thus it is really a small matter that Martin him- 
 self performed miracles : believe me that other 
 people also have accomplished many things in 
 his name. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " You knew the too barbarous and, beyond 
 measure, bloody ferocity of Avitianus, a former 
 courtier. He enters the city of the Turones 
 with a furious spirit, while rows of people, laden 
 with chains, followed him with melancholy looks, 
 orders various kinds of punishments to be got 
 ready for slaying them ; and to the grave amaze- 
 ment of the city, he arranges them for the sad 
 work on the following day. When this became 
 known to Martin, he set out all alone, a little 
 before midnight, for the palace of that beast. 
 But when, in the silence of the depths of the 
 night, and as all were at rest, no entrance was 
 possible through the bolted doors, he lays him- 
 self down before that cruel threshold. In the 
 meantime, Avitianus, buried in deep sleep, is 
 smitten by an assailing angel, who says to him, 
 ' Does the servant of God lie at your threshold, 
 and do you continue sleeping ? ' He, on listen- 
 ing to these words, rises, in much disturbance, 
 from his bed ; and calling his servants, he ex- 
 
 3 Text and meaning both very obscure. 
 
48 
 
 DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 claims in terror, ' Martin is at the door : go 
 immediately, and undo the bolts, that the ser- 
 vant of God may suffer no harm.' But they, in 
 accordance with the tendency of all servants, 
 having scarcely stepped beyond the first thresh- 
 old, and laughing at their master as having 
 been mocked by a dream, affirm that there was 
 no one at the door. This they did as simply 
 inferring from their own disposition, that no one 
 could be keeping watch through the night, while 
 far less did they believe that a priest was lying 
 at the threshold of another man during the 
 horror of that night. Well, they easily per- 
 suaded Avitianus of the truth of their story. 
 He again sinks into sleep ; but, being ere long 
 struck with greater violence than before, he ex- 
 claimed that Martin was standing at the door, 
 and that, therefore, no rest either of mind or 
 body was allowed him. As the servants delayed, 
 he himself went forward to the outer threshold ; 
 and there he found Martin, as he had thought 
 he would. The wretched man, struck by the 
 display of so great excellence, exclaimed, ' Why, 
 sir, have you done this to me? There is no 
 need for you to speak : I know what you wish : 
 I see what you require : depart as quickly as 
 possible, lest the anger of heaven consume me 
 on account of the injury done you : I have 
 already suffered sufficient punishment. Believe 
 me, that I have firmly determined in my own 
 mind how I should now proceed.' So then, 
 after the departure of the holy man, he calls for 
 his officials and orders all the prisoners to be 
 set free, while presently he himself went his way. 
 Thus Avitianus being put to flight, the city 
 rejoiced, and felt at liberty. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " While these are certain facts, since Avitianus 
 related them to many persons, they are further 
 confirmed on this ground that Refrigerius the 
 presbyter, whom you see here present, lately had 
 them narrated to him, under an appeal to the 
 Divine majesty, by Dagridus, a faithful man 
 among the tribunes, who swore that the account 
 was given him by Avitianus himself. But I do 
 not wish you to wonder that I do to-day what 
 I did not do yesterday ; viz. that I subjoin to the 
 mention of every individual wonder the names 
 of witnesses, and mention persons to whom, if 
 any one is inclined to disbelieve, he may have 
 recourse, because they are still in the body. 
 The unbelief of very many has compelled that ; 
 for they are said to hesitate about some things 
 which were related yesterday. Let these people, 
 then, accept as witnesses persons who are still 
 alive and well, and let them give more credit to 
 such, inasmuch as they doubt our good faith. 
 
 But really, if they are so unbelieving, I give it 
 as my opinion that they will not believe even 
 the witnesses named. And yet I am surprised 
 that any one, who has even the least sense of 
 religion, can venture on such wickedness as to 
 think that any one could tell lies concerning 
 Martin. Be that far from every one who lives 
 in obedience to God ; for, indeed, Martin does 
 not require to be defended by falsehoods. But, 
 O Christ, we lay the truth of our whole discourse 
 before thee, to the effect that we neither have 
 said, nor will say, anything else than what either 
 we ourselves have witnessed, or have learned 
 from undoubted authorities, and, indeed, very 
 frequently from Martin himself. But although 
 we have adopted the form of a dialogue, in 
 order that the style might be varied to prevent 
 weariness, still we affirm that we are really set- 
 ting forth 1 a true history in a dutiful spirit. The 
 unbelief of some has compelled me, to my great 
 regret, to insert in my narrative these remarks 
 which are apart from the subject in hand. But 
 let the discourse now return to our assembly ; 
 in which since I saw that I was listened to so 
 eagerly, I found it necessary to acknowledge that 
 Aper acted properly in keeping back the un- 
 believing, under the conviction he had that those 
 only ought to be allowed to hear who were of a 
 believing spirit. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " I am enraged in heart, believe me, and, 
 through vexation, I seem to lose my senses : do 
 Christian men not believe in the miraculous 
 powers of Martin, which the demons acknowl- 
 edged ? 
 
 " The monastery of the blessed man was at 
 two miles' distance from the city ; but if, as 
 often as he was to come to the church, he only 
 had set his foot outside the threshold of his 
 cell, one could perceive the possessed roaring 
 through the whole church, and the bands of 
 guilty 1 ones trembling as if their judge were 
 coming, so that the groanings of the demons 
 announced the approach of the bishop to the 
 clerics, who were not previously aware that he 
 was coming. I saw a certain man snatched up 
 into the air on the approach of Martin, and 
 suspended there with his hands stretched up- 
 wards, so that he could in no way touch the 
 ground with his feet. But if at any time Mar- 
 tin undertook the duty of exorcising the de- 
 mons, he touched no one with his hands, and 
 reproached no one in words, as a multitude of 
 expressions is generally rolled forth by the 
 clerics ; but the possessed, being brought up to 
 
 ' nos pie prasstruere profitemur historiae veritatem." 
 1 agmina damnanda." 
 
DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 49 
 
 him, he ordered all others to depart, and the 
 doors being bolted, clothed in sackcloth and 
 sprinkled with ashes, he stretched himself on the 
 ground in the midst of the church, and turned 
 to prayer. Then truly might one behold the 
 wretched beings tortured with various results — 
 some hanging, as it were, from a cloud, with 
 their feet turned upwards, and yet their gar- 
 ments did not fall down over their faces, lest 
 the part of their body which was exposed 
 should give rise to shame ; while in another part 
 of the church one could see them tortured with- 
 out any question being addressed to them, and 
 confessing their crimes. They revealed their 
 names, too, of their own accord ; one acknowl- 
 edged that he was Jupiter, and another that he 
 was Mercury. Finally, one could see all the 
 servants of the devil suffering agony, along with 
 their master, so that we could not help acknowl- 
 edging that in Martin there was fulfilled that 
 which is written that ' the saints shall judge 
 angels.' 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " There was a certain village in the country 
 of the Senones which was every year annoyed 
 with hail. The inhabitants, constrained by an 
 extreme of suffering, sought help from Martin. 
 A highly respectable embassy was sent to him 
 by Auspicius, a man of the rank of prefect, 
 whose fields the storm had been wont to smite 
 more severely than it did those of others. But 
 Martin, having there offered up prayer, so com- 
 pletely freed the whole district from the pre- 
 vailing plague, that for twenty .years, in which 
 he afterwards remained in the body, no one in 
 those places suffered from hail. And that this 
 may not be thought to be accidental, but rather 
 effected by Martin, the tempest, returning afresh, 
 once more fell upon the district in the year in 
 which he died. The world thus felt the de- 
 parture of a believing man to such a degree, 
 that, as it justly rejoiced in his life, so it also 
 bewailed his death. But if any hearer, weak in 
 faith, demands also witnesses to prove those 
 things which we have said, I will bring forward, 
 not one man, but many thousands, and will even 
 summon the whole region of the Senones to 
 bear witness to the power which was experi- 
 enced. But not to speak of this, you, presby- 
 ter Refrigerius, remember, I believe, that we 
 lately had a conversation, concerning the matter 
 referred to, with Romulus, the son of that 
 Auspicius I mentioned, an honored and religious 
 man. He related the points in question to us, 
 as if they had not been previously known ; and 
 as he was afraid of constant losses in future har- 
 vests, he did, as you yourself beheld, regret, 
 
 with much lamentation, that Martin was not 
 preserved up to this time. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " But to return to Avitianus : while at every 
 other place, and in all other cities, he displayed 
 marks of horrible cruelty, at Tours alone he did 
 no harm. Yes, that beast, which was nourished 
 by human blood, and by the slaughter of un- 
 fortunate creatures, showed himself meek and 
 peaceable in the presence of the blessed man. 
 I remember that Martin one day came to him, 
 and having entered his private apartment, he 
 saw a demon of marvelous size sitting behind 
 his back. Blowing upon him from a distance 
 (if I may, as a matter of necessity, make use 
 of a word which is hardly Latin 1 ), Avitianus 
 thought that he was blowing at him, and ex- 
 claimed, ' Why, thou holy man, dost thou 
 treat me thus ? ' But then Martin said, ' It is 
 not at you, but at him who, in all his terrible- 
 ness, leans over your neck.' The devil gave 
 way, and left his familiar seat ; and it is well 
 known that, ever after that day, Avitianus was 
 milder, whether because he now understood that 
 he had always been doing the will of the devil 
 sitting by him, or because the unclean spirit, 
 driven from his seat by Martin, was deprived of 
 the power of attacking him ; while the servant 
 was ashamed of his master, and the master did 
 not force on his servant. 
 
 " In a village of the Ambatienses, that is in 
 an old stronghold, which is now largely inhabited 
 by brethren, you know there is a great idol- 
 temple built up with labor. The building had 
 been constructed of the most polished stones 
 and furnished with turrets ; and, rising on high 
 in the form of a cone, it preserved the super- 
 stition of the place by the majesty of the work. 
 The blessed man had often enjoined its de- 
 struction on Marcellus, who was there settled as 
 presbyter. Returning after the lapse of some 
 time, he reproved the presbyter, because the 
 edifice of the idol-temple was still standing. 
 He pleaded in excuse that such an immense 
 structure could with difficulty be thrown down 
 by a band of soldiers, or by the strength of a 
 large body of the public, and far less should Mar- 
 tin think it easy for that to be effected by means 
 of weak clerics or helpless monks. Then Martin, 
 having recourse to his well-known auxiliaries, 
 spent the whole night in watching and prayer — 
 with the result that, in the morning, a storm 
 arose, and cast down even to its foundations the 
 idol-temple. Now let this narrative rest on the 
 testimony of Marcellus. 
 
 1 " exsufflans." 
 
5o 
 
 DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " I will make use of another not dissimilar 
 marvel in a like kind of work, having the con- 
 currence of Refrigerius in doing so. Martin 
 was prepared to throw down a pillar of immense 
 size, on the top of which an idol stood, but 
 there was no means by which effect could be 
 given to his design. Well, according to his 
 usual practice, he betakes himself to prayer. It 
 is undoubted that then a column, to a certain 
 degree like the other, rushed down from heaven, 
 and falling upon the idol, it crushed to powder 
 the whole of the seemingly indestructible mass : 
 this would have been a small matter, had he 
 only in an invisible way made use of the 
 powers of heaven, but these very powers were 
 beheld by human eyes serving Martin in a 
 visible manner. 
 
 " Again, the same Refrigerius is my witness 
 that a woman, suffering from an issue of blood, 
 when she had touched the garment of Martin, 
 after the example of the woman mentioned in 
 the Gospel, was cured in a moment of time. 
 
 " A serpent, cutting its way through a river, 
 was swimming towards the bank on which we 
 had taken our stand. ' In the name of the 
 Lord,' said Martin, ' I command thee to return.' 
 Instantly, at the word of the holy man, the 
 venomous beast turned round, and while we 
 looked on, swam across to the farther bank. 
 As we all perceived that this had not happened 
 without a miracle, he groaned deeply, and ex- 
 claimed, ' Serpents hear me, but men will not 
 hear. ' 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " Being accustomed to eat fish at the time of 
 Easter, he enquired a little before the hour for 
 refreshment, whether it was in readiness. Then 
 Cato, the deacon, to whom the outward man- 
 agement of the monastery belonged, and who 
 was himself a skillful fisher, tells him that no 
 capture had fallen to his lot the whole day, and 
 that other fishers, who used to sell what they 
 caught, had also been able to do nothing. 
 ' Go,' said he, ' let down your line, and a cap- 
 ture will follow.' As Sulpitius there has already 
 described, we had our dwelling close to the 
 river. We all went, then, as these were holidays, 
 to see our friend fishing, with the hopes of all 
 on the stretch, that the efforts would not be in 
 vain by which, under the advice of Martin him- 
 self, it was sought to obtain fish for his use.* At 
 the first throw the deacon drew out, in a very 
 small net, an enormous pike, and ran joyfully 
 back to the monastery, with the feeling un- 
 
 doubtedly to which some poet gave utterance 
 (for we use a learned verse, inasmuch as we are 
 conversing with learned people) — 
 
 ' And brought his captive boar ! to wondering Argos.' 
 
 " Truly that disciple of Christ, imitating the 
 miracles performed by the Saviour, and which 
 he, by way of example, set before the view of 
 his saints, showed Christ also working in him,, 
 who, glorifying his own holy follower everywhere, 
 conferred upon that one man the gifts of vari- 
 ous graces. Arborius, of the imperial body- 
 guard, testifies that he saw the hand of Martin 
 as he was offering sacrifice, clothed, as it seemed, 
 with the noblest gems, while it glittered with a 
 purple light ; and that, when his right hand was 
 moved, he heard the clash of the gems, as they 
 struck together. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 " I will now come to an event which he al- 
 ways concealed, owing to the character of the 
 times, but which he could not conceal from us. 
 In the matter referred to, there is this of a 
 miraculous nature, that an angel conversed, face 
 to face, with him. The Emperor Maximus, 
 while in other respects doubtless a good man, 
 was led astray by the advices of some priests 
 after Priscillian had been put to death. He, 
 therefore, protected by his royal power Ithacius 
 the bishop, who had been the accuser of Pris- 
 cillian, and others of his confederates, whom it 
 is not necessary to name. The emperor thus 
 prevented every one from bringing it as a charge 
 against Ithacius, that, by his instrumentality, a 
 man of any sort had been condemned to death. 
 Now Martin, constrained to go to the court by 
 many serious causes of people involved in suf- 
 fering, incurred the whole force of the storm 
 which was there raging. The bishops who had 
 assembled at Treves were retained in that city, 
 and daily communicating with Ithacius, they had 
 made common cause with him. When it was 
 announced to them expecting no such informa- 
 tion, that Martin was coming, completely losing 
 courage, they began to mutter and tremble 
 among themselves. And it so happened that 
 already, under their influence, the emperor had 
 determined to send some tribunes armed with 
 absolute power into the two Spains, to search 
 out heretics, and, when found, to deprive them 
 of their life or goods. Now there was no doubt 
 that that tempest would also make havoc of 
 multitudes of the real saints, little distinction 
 being made between the various classes of in- 
 
 1 " captivum suera." Probably there is here an allusion to the 
 capture of the Erymanthian boar by Hercules, with a punning 
 reference to a secondary meaning of sus as a kind of fish. 
 
DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 51 
 
 dividuals. For in such circumstances, a judg- 
 ment was formed simply by appearances, so that 
 one was deemed a heretic rather on his turning 
 pale from fear, or wearing a particular garment, 
 than by the faith which he professed. And the 
 bishops were well aware that such proceedings 
 would by no means please Martin ; but, con- 
 scious of evil as they were, this was a subject 
 of deep anxiety to them, lest when he came, he 
 should keep from communion with them ; know- 
 ing well as they did, that others would not be 
 wanting who, with his example to guide them, 
 would follow the bold course adopted by so 
 great a man. They therefore form a plan with 
 the emperor, to this effect, that, officials of the 
 court being sent on to meet him, Martin should 
 be forbidden to come any nearer to that city, 
 unless he should declare that he would maintain 
 peace with the bishops who were living there. 
 But he skillfully frustrated their object, by declar- 
 ing that he would come among them with the 
 peace of Christ. And at last, having entered 
 during the night, he went to the church, simply 
 for the purpose of prayer. On the following 
 day he betakes himself to the palace. Besides 
 many other petitions which he had to present, 
 and which it would be tedious to describe, the 
 following were the principal : entreaties in be- 
 half of the courtier Narses, and the president 
 Leucadius, both of whom had belonged to the 
 party of Gratianus, and that, with more than 
 ordinary zeal, upon which this is not the time to 
 dilate, and who had thus incurred the anger of 
 the conqueror ; but his chief request was, that 
 tribunes, with the power of life and death, 
 should not be sent into the Spains. For Martin 
 felt a pious solicitude not only to save from 
 danger the true Christians in these regions, who 
 were to be persecuted in connection with that 
 expedition, but to protect even heretics them- 
 selves. But on the first and second day the 
 wily emperor kept the holy man in suspense, 
 whether that he might impress on him the 
 importance of the affair, or because, being ob- 
 noxious to the bishops, he could not be recon- 
 ciled to them, or because, as most people 
 thought at the time, the emperor opposed his 
 wishes from avarice, having cast a longing eye 
 on the property of the persons in question. 
 For we are told that he was really a man dis- 
 tinguished by many excellent actions, but that 
 he was not successful in contending against 
 avarice. This may, however, have been due to 
 the necessities of the empire at the time, for 
 the treasury of the state had been exhausted by 
 former rulers ; and he, being almost constantly 
 in the expectation of civil wars, or in a state of 
 preparation for them, may easily be excused for 
 having, by all sorts of expedients, sought re- 
 sources for the defense of the empire. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " In the meantime, those bishops with whom 
 Martin would not hold communion went in ter- 
 ror to the king, complaining that they had been 
 condemned beforehand ; that it was all over 
 with them as respected the status of every one 
 of them, if the authority of Martin was now to 
 uphold the pertinacity of Theognitus, who alone 
 had as yet condemned them by a sentence pub- 
 licly pronounced ; that the man ought not to 
 have been received within the walls ; that he 
 was now not merely the defender of heretics, 
 but their vindicator ; and that nothing had 
 really been accomplished by the death of Pris- 
 cillian, if Martin were to act the part of his 
 avenger. Finally, prostrating themselves with 
 weeping and lamentation, they implored the 
 emperor 1 to put forth his power against this one 
 man. And the emperor was not far from being 
 compelled to assign to Martin, too, the doom 
 of heretics. But after all, although he was dis- 
 posed to look upon the bishops with too great 
 favor, he was not ignorant that Martin excelled 
 all other mortals in faith, sanctity, and excel- 
 lence : he therefore tries another way of get- 
 ting the better of the holy man. And first he 
 sends for him privately, and addresses him in 
 the kindest fashion, assuring him that the here- 
 tics were condemned in the regular course of 
 public trials, rather than by the persecutions of 
 the priests ; and that there was no reason why 
 he should think that communion with Ithacius 
 and the rest of that party was a thing to be 
 condemned. He added that Theognitus had , 
 created disunion, rather by personal hatred, than 
 by the cause he supported ; and that, in fact, he 
 was the only person who, in the meantime, had 
 separated himself from communion : while no 
 innovation had been made by the rest. He 
 remarked further that a synod, held a few days 
 previously, had decreed that Ithacius was not 
 chargeable with any fault. When Martin was 
 but little impressed by these statements, the 
 king then became inflamed with anger, and hur- 
 ried out of his presence ; while, without delay, 
 executioners are appointed for those in whose 
 behalf Martin had made supplication. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " When this became known to Martin, he 
 rushed to the palace, though it was now night. 
 He pledges himself that, if these people were 
 spared, he would communicate ; only let the 
 tribunes, who had already been sent to the 
 Spains for the destruction of the churches, be 
 
 1 " potestatem regiam." 
 
52 
 
 DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 recalled. There is no delay : Maximus grants 
 all his requests. On the following day, the or- 
 dination of Felix as bishop was being arranged, 
 a man undoubtedly of great sanctity, and truly 
 worthy of being made a priest in happier times. 
 Martin took part in the communion of that day, 
 judging it better to yield for the moment, than 
 to disregard the safety of those over whose 
 heads a sword was hanging. Nevertheless, al- 
 though the bishops strove to the uttermost to 
 get him to confirm the fact of his communi- 
 cating by signing his name, he could not be 
 induced to do so. On the following day, hur- 
 rying away from that place, as he was on the 
 way returning, he was filled with mourning and 
 lamentation that he had even for an hour been 
 mixed up with the evil communion, and, not far 
 from a village named Andethanna, where remote 
 woods stretch 1 far and wide with profound soli- 
 tude, he sat down while his companions went 
 on a little before him. There he became in- 
 volved in deep thought, alternately accusing and 
 defending the cause of his grief and conduct. 
 Suddenly, an angel stood by him and said, 
 ' Justly, O Martin, do you feel compunction, but 
 you could not otherwise get out of your diffi- 
 culty. Renew your virtue, resume your courage, 
 lest you not only now expose your fame, but 
 your very salvation, to danger.' Therefore, from 
 that time forward, he carefully guarded against 
 being mixed up in communion with the party 
 of Ithacius. But when it happened that he 
 cured some of the possessed more slowly and 
 with less grace than usual, he at once confessed 
 to us with tears that he felt a diminution of his 
 power on account of the evil of that commun- 
 ion in which he had taken part for a moment, 
 through necessity, and not with a cordial spirit. 
 He lived sixteen years after this, but never again 
 did he attend a synod, and kept carefully aloof 
 from all assemblies of bishops. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " But very clearly, as we experienced, he re- 
 paired, with manifold interest, his grace, which 
 had been diminished for a time. I saw after- 
 wards a possessed person brought to him at the 
 gats J of the monastery ; and that, before the 
 man touched the threshold, he was cured. 
 
 " I lately heard one testifying that, when he 
 was sailing on the Tuscan Sea, following that 
 course which leads to Rome, whirlwinds having 
 suddenly arisen, all on board were in extreme 
 
 1 The text is here very corrupt: we have followed a conjecture 
 of Halm's. 
 
 1 " Pseudothyrum " ; Halm prefers the form " pseudoforum," but 
 the meaning is the same. 
 
 peril of their lives. In these circumstances, a 
 certain Egyptian merchant, who was not yet a 
 Christian, cried out, ' Save us, O God of Mar- 
 tin,' upon which the tempest was immediately 
 stilled, and they held their desired course, 
 while the pacified ocean continued in perfect 
 tranquillity. 
 
 " Lycontius, a believing man belonging to the 
 lieutenants, when a violent disease was afflicting 
 his family, and sick bodies were lying all through 
 his house in sad proof of unheard-of calamity, 
 implored the help of Martin by a letter. At 
 this time the blessed man declared that the 
 thing asked was difficult to be obtained, for he 
 knew in his spirit that that house was then being 
 scourged by Divine appointment. Yet he did 
 not give up an unbroken course of prayer and 
 fasting for seven whole days and as many nights, 
 so that he at last obtained that which he aimed 
 at in his supplications. Speedily, Lycontius, 
 having experienced the Divine kindness, flew 
 to him, at once reporting the fact and giving 
 thanks, that his house had been delivered from 
 all danger. He also offered a hundred pounds 
 of silver, which the blessed man neither rejected 
 nor accepted ; but before the amount of money 
 touched the threshold of the monastery, he had, 
 without hesitation, destined it for the redemp- 
 tion of captives. And when it was suggested to 
 him by the brethren, that some portion of it 
 should be reserved for the expenses of the 
 monastery, since it was difficult for all of them 
 to obtain necessary food, while many of them 
 were sorely in need of clothing, he replied, ' Let 
 the church both feed and clothe us, as long as 
 we do not appear to have provided, in any way, 
 for our own wants.' 
 
 " There occur to my mind at this point many 
 miracles of that illustrious man, which it is more 
 easy for us to admire than to narrate. You all 
 doubtless recognize the truth of what I say : 
 there are many doings of his which cannot be 
 set forth in words. For instance, there is the 
 following, which I rather think cannot be re- 
 lated by us just as it took place. A certain one 
 of the brethren (you are not ignorant of his 
 name, but his person must be concealed, lest 
 we should cause shame to a godly man), — a 
 certain one, I say, having found abundance of 
 coals for his stove, drew a stool to himself, and 
 was sitting, with outspread legs and exposed 
 person, beside that fire, when Martin at once 
 perceived that an improper thing was done 
 under the sacred roof, and cried out with a loud 
 voice, ' Who, by exposing his person, is dis- 
 honoring our habitation?' When our brother 
 heard this, and felt from his own conscience, 
 that it was he who was rebuked, he immediately 
 ran to us almost in a fainting condition, and 
 acknowledged his shame ; which was done, how- 
 
DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 53 
 
 ever, only through the forth-putting of the power 
 of Martin. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " Again, on a certain day, after he had sat 
 down on that wooden seat of his (which you 
 all know), placed in the small open court 
 which surrounded his abode, he perceived two 
 demons sitting on the lofty rock which over- 
 hangs the monastery. He then heard them, in 
 eager and gladsome tones, utter the following 
 invitation, ' Come hither, Brictio, come hither, 
 Brictio.' I believe they perceived the miser- 
 able man approaching from a distance, being 
 conscious how great frenzy of spirit they had 
 excited within him. Nor is there any delay : 
 Brictio rushes in in absolute fury ; and there, 
 full of madness, he vomits forth a thousand re- 
 proaches against Martin. For he had been 
 reproved by him on the previous day, because 
 he who had possessed nothing before he entered 
 the clerical office, having, in fact, been brought 
 up in the monastery by Martin himself, was now 
 keeping horses and purchasing slaves. For at 
 that time, he was accused by many of not only 
 having bought boys belonging to barbarous 
 nations, but girls also of a comely appearance. 
 The miserable man, moved with bitter rage on 
 account of these things, and, as I believe, chiefly 
 instigated by the impulse received from those 
 demons, made such an onset upon Martin as 
 scarcely to refrain from laying hands upon him. 
 The holy man, on his part, with a placid coun- 
 tenance and a tranquil mind, endeavored by 
 gentle words to restrain the madness of the un- 
 happy wretch. But the spirit of wickedness so 
 prevailed within him, that not even his own 
 mind, at best a very vain one, was under his 
 control. With trembling lips, and a changing 
 countenance, pale with rage, he rolled forth the 
 words of sin, asserting that he was a holier man 
 than Martin who had brought him up, inasmuch 
 as from his earliest years he had grown up in 
 the monastery amid the sacred institutions of 
 the Church, while Martin had at first, as he could 
 not deny, been tarnished with the life of a sol- 
 dier, and had now entirely sunk into dotage by 
 means of his baseless superstitions, and ridiculous 
 fancies about visions. After he had uttered 
 many things like these, and others of a still more 
 bitter nature, which it is better not to mention, 
 going out, at length, when his rage was satisfied, 
 he seemed to feel as if he had completely vin- 
 dicated his conduct. But with rapid steps he 
 rushed back by the way he had gone out, the 
 demons having, I believe, been, in the mean- 
 time, driven from his heart by the prayers of 
 Martin, and he was now brought back to re- 
 
 pentance. Speedily, then, he returns, and throws 
 himself at the feet of Martin, begging for pardon 
 and confessing his error, while, at length restored 
 to a better mind, he acknowledges that he had 
 been under the influence of a demon. It was 
 no difficult business for Martin to forgive the 
 suppliant. And then the holy man explained 
 both to him and to us all, how he had seen him 
 driven on by demons, and declared that he was 
 not moved by the reproaches which had been 
 heaped upon him ; for they had, in fact, rather 
 injured the man who uttered them. And sub- 
 sequently, when this same Brictio was often 
 accused before him of many and great crimes, 
 Martin could not be induced to remove him 
 from the presbyterate, lest he should be sus- 
 pected of revenging the injury done to himself, 
 while he often repeated this saying : ' If Christ 
 bore with Judas, why should not I bear with 
 Brictio?'" 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Upon this, Postumianus exclaims, " Let that 
 well-known man in our immediate neighborhood, 
 listen to that example, who, when he is wise, 
 takes no notice either of things present or future, 
 but if he has been offended, falls into utter fury, 
 having no control over himself. He then rages 
 against the clerics, and makes bitter attacks 
 upon the laity, while he stirs up the whole world 
 for his own revenge. He will continue in this 
 state of contention for three years without inter- 
 mission, and refuse to be mollified either by 
 time or reason. The condition of the man is to 
 be lamented and pitied, even if this were the 
 only incurable evil by which he is afflicted. But 
 you ought, my Gallic friend, to have frequently 
 recalled to his mind such examples of patience 
 and tranquillity, that he might know both how to 
 be angry and how to forgive. And if he hap- 
 pens to hear of this speech of mine which has 
 been briefly interpolated into our discourse, and 
 directed against himself, let him know that I 
 spoke, not more with the lips of an enemy than 
 the mind of a friend ; because I should wish, if 
 the thing were possible, that he should be spoken 
 of rather as being like the bishop Martin, than 
 the tyrant Phalaris. But let us pass away from 
 him, since the mention of him is far from pleas- 
 ant, and let us return, O Gaul, to our friend 
 Martin." 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Then said I, since I perceived by the setting 
 sun that evening was at hand : " The day is 
 gone, Postumianus ; we must rise up ; and at 
 the same time some refreshment is due to these 
 
54 
 
 DIALOGUES OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 so zealous listeners. And as to Martin, you 
 ought not to expect that there is any limit to 
 one talking about him : he extends too far to be 
 comprised fully in any conversation. In the 
 meantime, you will convey to the East the 
 things you have now heard about that famous 
 man ; and as you retrace your steps to your 
 former haunts, and pass along by various coasts, 
 places, harbors, islands, and seas, see that you 
 spread among the peoples the name and glory of 
 Martin. Especially remember that you do not 
 omit Campania ; and although your route will 
 take you far off the beaten track, still any ex- 
 penditure from delay will not be to you of so 
 much importance as to keep you from visiting 
 in that quarter Paulinus, a man renowned and 
 praised throughout the whole world. I beg you 
 first to unroll to him the volume of discourse 
 which we either completed yesterday, or have 
 said to-day. You will relate all to him ; you 
 will repeat all to him ; that in due time, by 
 his means, Rome may learn the sacred merits 
 of this man, just as he spread that first little 
 book of ours not only through Italy, but even 
 through the whole of Illyria. He, not jealous 
 of the glories of Martin, and being a most pious 
 admirer of his saintly excellences in Christ, will 
 not refuse to compare our leading man with his 
 own friend Felix. Next, if you happen to cross 
 over to Africa, you will relate what you have 
 heard to Carthage ; and, although, as you 
 yourself have said, it already knows the man, 
 yet now pre-eminently it will learn more respect- 
 ing him, that it may not admire its own martyr 
 Cyprian alone, although consecrated by his sa- 
 cred blood. And then, if carried down a little 
 to the left, you enter the gulf of Achaia, let 
 Corinth know, and let Athens know, that Plato 
 in the academy was not wiser, and that Socrates 
 in the prison was not braver, than Martin. You 
 will say to them that Greece was indeed happy 
 which was thought worthy to listen to an apostle 
 pleading, but that Christ has by no means for- 
 saken GauL since he has granted it to possess 
 
 such a man as Martin. But when you have 
 come as far as Egypt, although it is justly proud 
 of the numbers and virtues of its own saints, 
 yet let it not disdain to hear how Europe will 
 not yield to it, or to all Asia, in having only 
 Martin. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " But when you have again set sail from that 
 place with the view of making for Jerusalem, I 
 enjoin upon you a duty connected with our 
 grief, that, if you ever come to the shore of re- 
 nowned Ptolemais, you enquire most carefully 
 where Pomponius, that friend of ours, is buried, 
 and that you do not refuse to visit his remains 
 on that foreign soil. There shed many tears, as 
 much from the working of your own feelings, as 
 from our tender affection ; and although it is 
 but a worthless gift, scatter the ground there 
 with purple flowers and sweet-smelling grass. 
 And you will say to him, but not roughly, and 
 not harshly, — with the address of one who sym- 
 pathizes, and not with the tone of one who re- 
 proaches, — that if he had only been willing to 
 listen to you at one time, or to me constantly, 
 and if he had invited Martin rather than that 
 man whom I am unwilling to name, he would 
 never have been so cruelly separated from me, 
 or covered by a heap of unknown dust, having 
 suffered death in the midst of the sea with the 
 lot of a ship-wrecked pirate, and with difficulty 
 securing burial on a far-distant shore. Let those 
 behold this as their own work, who, in seeking 
 to revenge him, have wished to injure me, let 
 them behold their own glory, and being avenged, 
 let them henceforth cease to make any attacks 
 upon me." 
 
 Having uttered these sad words in a very 
 mournful voice, and while the tears of all the 
 others were drawn forth by our laments, we at 
 length departed, certainly with a profound ad- 
 miration for Martin, but with no less sorrow from 
 our own lamentations. 
 
THE DOUBTFUL LETTERS OF SULPITIUS 
 
 SEVERUS. 
 
 aXKc 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 A LETTER OF THE HOLY PRESBYTER SEVERUS TO 
 HIS SISTER CLAUDIA CONCERNING THE LAST 
 JUDGMENT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 On reading your letters, my feelings were, 
 in many ways, deeply moved, and I could not 
 refrain from tears. For I both wept for joy 
 because I could perceive from the very language 
 of your letters, that you were living according 
 to the precepts of the Lord God, and out of 
 my exceeding desire after you, I could not help 
 lamenting that, without any fault on my part, I 
 was parted from you ; and I would have felt 
 this still more strongly had you not sent me a 
 letter. Should I not, then, enjoy the company 
 of such a sister? But I call your salvation to 
 witness, that I have very often wished to come 
 to you, but have up till now been prevented, 
 through the opposition of him x who is accus- 
 tomed to hinder us. For, in my eager desire, 
 I was both urgent to satisfy my wishes by seeing 
 you ; and we seemed, if we should meet, likely 
 to accomplish more effectually the work of the 
 Lord, since by comforting one another we should 
 live with the heavy load of this world trodden 
 under our feet. But I do not now fix the day 
 or time of visiting you, because, as often as I 
 have done so, I have not been able to fulfil my 
 purpose. I shall wait on the will of the Lord, 
 and hope that, by my supplications and your 
 prayers, he may bring it about that we reap 
 some advantage from our perseverance. 2 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 But because you have desired from me in all 
 my letters which I had sent to you precepts to 
 nourish your life and faith, it has come to pass 
 
 _ l . It is obvious that, in this whole passage, Sulpitius has in his 
 mind the language of St. Paul, Rom. i. 9-12. 
 
 3 Halm reads pmsentia, instead of the old reading perseve- 
 rantia, but apparently without good grounds. 
 
 that, through the frequency of my writings to 
 you, I have now exhausted language of that 
 kind ; and I can really write nothing new to you, 
 so as to avoid what I have written before. And 
 in truth, through the goodness of God, you do 
 not now need to be exhorted, inasmuch as, per- 
 fecting your faith at the very beginning of your 
 saintly life, you display a devoted love in Christ. 
 One thing, however, I do press upon you, that 
 you do not go back on things you have already 
 passed away from, that you do not long again 
 for things you have already scorned, and that, 
 having put your hand to the plow, you do not 
 look back 1 again, retracing your steps; for, un- 
 doubtedly, by falling into this fault, your furrow 
 will lose its straightness, and the cultivator will 
 not receive his own proper reward. Moreover, 
 he does not secure even a measure of the 
 reward, if he has, in a measure, failed. For, as 
 we must flee from sin to righteousness, so he 
 who has entered on the practice of righteousness 
 must beware lest he lay himself open to sin. 
 For it is written that " his righteousness shall 
 not profit the righteous on the day on which he 
 has gone astray." 2 For this, then, we must take 
 our stand, for this we must labor, that we, who 
 have escaped from sins, do not lose the pre- 
 pared rewards. For the enemy stands ready 
 against us, that he may at once strike the man 
 who has been stripped of the shield of faith. 
 Our shield, therefore, is not to be cast aside, lest 
 our side be exposed to attack ; and our sword 
 is not to be put away, lest the enemy then begin 
 to give up all fear : moreover, we know that if 
 he sees a man fully armed, he will retreat. Nor 
 are we ignorant that it is a hard and difficult 
 thing daily to fight against the flesh and the 
 world. But if you reflect upon eternity, and if 
 you consider the kingdom of heaven, which un- 
 doubtedly the Lord will condescend to bestow 
 upon us although we are sinners, what suffering, 
 I ask, is sufficiently great, by which we may 
 merit such things? And besides, our struggle 
 in this world is but for a short time ; for al- 
 though death do not speedily overtake us, old 
 
 1 Luke ix. 62. 
 
 2 Ezek. xviii. 24. 
 
56 
 
 LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful). 
 
 age will come. The years flow on, and time 
 glides by ; while, as I hope, the Lord Jesus will 
 speedily call us to himself, as being dear to his 
 heart. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 O how happy shall be that departure of ours, 
 when Christ shall receive us into his own abode 
 after we have been purged x from the stains of 
 sin through the experience 2 of a better life! 
 Martyrs and prophets will meet with us, apostles 
 will join themselves td us, angels will be glad, 
 archangels will rejoice, and Satan, being con- 
 quered, will look pale, though still retaining his 
 cruel countenance, inasmuch as he will lose all 3 
 advantage from our sins which he had secured 
 for himself in us. He will see glory granted us 
 through mercy, and merits honored by means of 
 glory. We shall triumph over our conquered 
 foe. Where shall now the wise men of the world 
 appear? Where shall the covetous man, where 
 shall the adulterer, where shall the irreligious, 
 where shall the drunkard, where shall the evil- 
 speaker be recognized? What shall these 
 wretched beings say in their own defense ? " We 
 did not know thee, Lord ; we did not see that 
 thou wast in the world : thou didst not send the 
 prophets : thou didst not give the law to the 
 world : we did not see the patriarchs : we did 
 not read the lives of the saints. Thy Christ 
 never was upon the earth : Peter was silent : 
 Paul refused to preach : no Evangelist taught. 
 There were no martyrs whose example we should 
 follow : no one predicted thy future judgment : 
 no one commanded us to clothe the poor : no 
 one enjoined us to restrain lust : no one per- 
 suaded us to fight against covetousness : we fell 
 through ignorance, not knowing what we did." 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Against these, from among the company of 
 the saints, righteous Noah shall first proclaim, 
 " I, Lord, predicted that a deluge was about to 
 come on account of the sins of men, and after 
 the deluge I set an example to the good in my 
 own person ; since I did not perish with the 
 wicked who perished, that they might know both 
 what was the salvation of the innocent, and what 
 the punishment of sinners." After him, faithful 
 Abraham will say in opposition to them, " I, 
 
 1 Clericus here remarks that " these words clearly teach us that 
 Severus knew of no other purgation than that by which we are 
 cleansed in this life from sin by a change of character, and which 
 change if we steadily maintain, then, when life is ended, we are 
 received into the abode of Christ, without any dread of the fire of 
 purgatory." 
 
 2 " conversatione." 
 
 3 Having led us into sin that we might be condemned along with 
 himself. The meaning, however, is obscure. 
 
 Lord, about the mid-time ' of the age of the 
 world, laid the foundation of the faith by which 
 the human race should believe in thee ; I was 
 chosen as the father of the nations, that they 
 might follow my example ; I did not hesitate, 
 Lord, to offer Isaac, while yet a youth, as a sac- 
 rifice to thee, that they might understand that 
 there is nothing which ought not to be presented 
 to the Lord, when they perceived that I did not 
 spare even my only son : I left, Lord, my coun- 
 try, and my family, at thy command, that they 
 also might have an example teaching them to 
 leave the wickedness of the world and the age : 
 I, Lord, was the first to recognize thee, though 
 under a corporeal 2 form, nor did I hesitate to 
 believe who it was that I beheld, although thou 
 didst appear to me in a different form from 
 thine own, that these might learn to judge, not ac- 
 cording to the flesh, but according to the spirit." 
 Him the blessed Moses will support in his plead- 
 ings, saying : " I Lord, delivered the law to all 
 these, at thy command, that those whom a free 3 
 faith did not influence, the spoken law at least 
 might restrain : I said, ' Thou shalt not 4 com- 
 mit adultery,' in order that I might prevent the 
 licentiousness of fornication : I said, ' Thou shalt 
 love 5 thy neighbor,' that affection might abound ; 
 I said, ' Thou shalt worship the Lord alone,' 7 
 in order that these might not sacrifice to idols, 
 or allow temples to exist ; I commanded that 
 false witness should not be spoken, that I might 
 shut the lips of these people against all falsehood. 
 I set forth the things which had been done and 
 said from the beginning of the world, through 
 the working within me of the spirit of thy 
 power, that a knowledge of things past might 
 convey to these people instruction about things 
 to come. I predicted, O Lord Jesus, thy com- 
 ing, that it might not be an unexpected thing to 
 these people, when they were called to acknowl- 
 edge him whom I had before announced as 
 about to come." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 After him, there will stand up David worthy 
 of his descendant the Lord, and declare : " I, 
 Lord, proclaimed thee by every means ; I set 
 forth that only thy name was to be worshiped ; 
 I said, ' Blessed is the man ' who fears the 
 Lord'; I said too, 'The saints shall 2 be joyful 
 in glory ' ; and I said, ' The desire of the 
 
 1 Abraham lived (in round numbers) about 2000 years B.C., and 
 assuming the beginning of the world to have been about 4000 years 
 B.C., he may thus be said to have lived about " the mid-time." The 
 note of Clericus which refers the words to the end of the world 
 seems quite mistaken. 
 
 2 The reference is to Gen. xviii. 
 
 3 A faith having no regard to either rewards or punishments. 
 
 4 Ex. xx. 14. "" " Ex. xx. 3, &c. 
 
 5 Lev. xix. 18. J Ps. cxi. 1. 
 
 c Deut. vi. 13. 2 Ps. cxlix. 5. 
 
LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful). 
 
 57 
 
 wicked 3 shall perish,' that these people might 
 acknowledge thee and cease to sin. I, when 
 I had become possessed of royal power, clothed 
 in sackcloth, with dust spread beneath me, and 
 with the emblems of my greatness laid aside, lay 
 down in my clothes, that an example might be 
 given to these people of gentleness and humility. 
 I spared my enemies who desired to slay me, 
 that these people might approve of my merciful- 
 ness, as worthy of being imitated." After him, 
 Isaiah, who was worthy of the Spirit of God, 
 will not be silent ; but will say : " I, Lord, 
 whilst thou wast speaking through my mouth, 
 gave this warning, — ' Woe to those 4 who join 
 house to house,' that I might set a limit to 
 covetousness. I bore witness that thine anger 
 came upon the wicked, that at any rate fear of 
 punishment, if not hope of reward, might keep 
 back these people from their evil deeds." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 After these, and several others who have 
 discharged for us the duties of instruction, the 
 Son of God himself will speak thus : " I, cer- 
 tainly, exalted on a lofty seat, holding heaven 
 in my hand, and the earth in my fist, extended 
 within and without, in the inside of all things 
 which are produced, and on the outside of all 1 
 things that move, inconceivable, infinite in the 
 power 2 of nature, invisible to sight, inaccessible 
 to touch, in order that I might exist as the least 
 of you (for the purpose of subduing the hard- 
 ness of your heart and for softening your faith- 
 lessness by sound doctrines), condescended to 
 be born in flesh, and, having laid aside the glory 
 of God, I assumed the form of a servant, so that, 
 sharing with you in bodily infirmity, I might in 
 turn bring you to a participation in my glory, 
 through obedience to the precept of salvation. 
 I restored health to the sick and infirm, hearing 
 to the deaf, sight to the blind, the power of 
 speech to the dumb, and the use of their feet 
 to the lame ; that I might influence you, by 
 heavenly signs, all the more easily to believe in 
 me, and in those things which I had announced, 
 I promised you the kingdom of heaven ; I also, 
 in order that you might have an example of 
 escape from punishment, placed in Paradise the 
 robber who acknowledged me almost at the 
 moment of his death, that ye might follow even 
 the faith of him who had been thought worthy 
 of having his sins forgiven him. And that by 
 my example in your behalf, ye yourselves also 
 might be able to suffer ; I suffered for you, that 
 
 3 Ps. cxii. 10. * Isa. v. 8. 
 
 1 The divine omnipresence is here denoted. 
 . 2 .O r » according to another punctuation, " inconceivable in nature, 
 infinite in power." 
 
 no man might hesitate to suffer for himself what 
 God 3 had endured for man. I showed myself 
 after my resurrection, in order that your faith 
 might not be overthrown. I admonished the 
 Jews in the person of Peter ; I preached to the 
 Gentiles in the person of Paul ; and I do 
 not regret doing so, for good results followed. 
 The good have understood my work ; the faith- 
 ful have perfected it ; the righteous have com- 
 pleted it ; the merciful have consummated it : 
 there have been a large number of martyrs, and 
 a large number of saints. Those to whom I 
 thus refer were undoubtedly in the same body 
 and in the same world as you. Why, then, do 
 I find no good work in you, ye descendants of 
 vipers ? Ye have shown no repentance for your 
 wicked deeds, even at the very end of your 
 earthly course. And what does it profit that ye 
 honor me with your lips, when you deny me by 
 your deeds and works? Where are now your 
 riches, where your honors, where your powers, 
 and where your pleasures ? I pronounce no 
 new sentence over you : you simply incur the 
 judgment which I formerly predicted." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Then will the Evangelist repeat this to the 
 wretched beings, " Go ye l into outer dark- 
 ness, where shall be weeping and gnashing of 
 teeth." O ye miserable men, whom these words 
 do not now impress ! They shall then see their 
 own punishment, and the glory of others. Let 
 them use this present world, provided they do 
 not enjoy that eternity which is prepared for the 
 saints. Let them abound in riches : let them 
 rest on gold ; provided that there they be found 
 needy and destitute. Let them be wealthy in 
 this world, provided they be poor in eternity, 
 for it is written regarding them, " The rich were 
 in 2 want, and suffered hunger." But the Scrip- 
 ture has added what follows respecting the good, 
 — " but those who seek the Lord shall not want 
 any good thing." 
 
 Therefore, my sister, although those people 
 mock at us, and although they call us foolish 
 and unhappy, let us all the more joyfully exult 
 in such reproaches, by which glory is heaped up 
 for us, and punishment for them. And do not 
 let us laugh at their folly, but rather grieve over 
 their unhappiness ; because there is among 
 them a large number of our own people, whom 
 if we win over, our glory shall be increased. 
 But however they may conduct themselves, let 
 
 3 Clericus thinks this expression unscriptural, and fitted to sup- 
 port heresy. But it may be justified by such a passage as Acts xx. 
 28, if 0eov be accepted as the correct reading, which is now generally 
 agreed upon. 
 
 1 St. Matt. xxii. 13. 
 
 2 Ps. xxxiv. 10: the above rendering entirely departs from the 
 Hebrew text. 
 
58 
 
 LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful). 
 
 them be to us as Gentiles and publicans ; but 
 let us keep ourselves safe and sound. If they 
 rejoice now over us lamenting, it will be our 
 turn afterwards to rejoice over their suffering. 
 Farewell, dearest sister, and tenderly beloved in 
 Christ. 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 A LETTER OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS TO HIS SISTER 
 CLAUDIA CONCERNING VIRGINITY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 How great blessedness, among heavenly gifts, 
 belongs to holy virginity, besides the testimonies 
 of the Scriptures, we learn also from the prac- 
 tice of the Church, by which we are taught that 
 a peculiar merit belongs to those who have de- 
 voted themselves to it by special consecration. 
 For while the whole multitude of those that 
 believe receive equal gifts of grace, and all re- 
 joice in the same blessings of the sacraments, 
 those who are virgins possess something above 
 the rest, since, out of the holy and unstained 
 company of the Church, they are chosen by the 
 Holy Spirit, and are presented by the bishop 1 
 at the altar of God, as if being more holy and 
 pure sacrifices, on account of the merits of their 
 voluntary dedication. This is truly a sacrifice 
 worthy of God, inasmuch as it is the offering of 
 so precious a being, and none will please him 
 more than the sacrifice of his own image. For 
 I think that the i\postle especially referred to a 
 sacrifice of this kind, when he said, " Now, I 
 beseech you, brethren, by the mercy of God, 
 that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, 
 holy and acceptable 2 to God." Virginity, there- 
 fore, possesses both that which others have, and 
 that which others have not ; while it obtains 
 both common and special grace, and rejoices 
 (so to speak) in its own peculiar privilege of 
 consecration. For ecclesiastical authority per- 
 mits us to style virgins also the brides of Christ ; 
 while, after the manner of brides, it veils those 
 whom it consecrates to the Lord, openly exhib- 
 iting those as very especially about to possess 
 spiritual marriage who have fled away from car- 
 nal fellowship. And those are worthily united, 
 after a spiritual manner, to God, in accordance 
 with the analogy of marriage, who, from love to 
 him, have set at nought human alliances. In 
 their case, that saying of the apostle finds its 
 fullest possible fulfillment, " He who is joined 
 to the Lord, 3 is one spirit." 
 
 1 " per summum sacerdotem." 
 
 2 Rom. xii. i. 
 
 3 i Cor. vi. 17. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 For it is a great and a divine thing, almost 
 beyond a corporeal nature, to lay aside 1 luxury, 
 and to extinguish, by strength of mind, the 
 flame of concupiscence, kindled by the torch of 
 youth ; to put down by spiritual effort the force 
 of natural delight ; to live in opposition to the 
 practice of the human race ; to despise the 
 comforts of wedlock ; to disdain the sweet en- 
 joyments derived from children ; and to regard 
 as nothing, in the hope of future blessedness, 
 everything that is reckoned among the advan- 
 tages of this present -life. This is, as I have 
 said, a great and admirable virtue, and is not 
 undeservedly destined to a vast reward, in pro- 
 portion to the greatness of its labor. The 
 Scripture says, " I will give to the eunuchs, saith 
 the Lord, a place in my house and within my 
 walls, a place counted better than 2 sons and 
 daughters ; I will give them an eternal name, 
 and it shall not 3 fail." The Lord again speaks 
 concerning such enunchs in the Gospel, saying, 
 " For there are eunuchs who have made them- 
 selves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven's 
 sake." 4 Great, indeed, is the struggle con- 
 nected with chastity, but greater is the reward ; 
 the restraint is temporal, but the reward will 
 be eternal. For the blessed Apostle John also 
 speaks concerning these, saying that " they fol- 
 low the Lamb whithersoever he goeth." 5 This, 
 I think, is to be understood to the following 
 effect, that there will be no place in the court of 
 heaven closed against them, but that all the 
 habitations of the divine mansions will be thrown 
 open before them. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 But that the merit of virginity may shine 
 forth more clearly, and that there may be a 
 better understanding as to how worthy it is of 
 God, let this be considered, that the Lord God, 
 our Saviour, when, for the salvation of the human 
 race, he condescended to assume mankind, chose 
 no other than a virgin's womb, that he might 
 show how virtue of this kind especially pleased 
 him ; and that he might point out the blessed- 
 ness of chastity to both sexes, he had a virgin 
 mother, while he himself was ever to remain in 
 a like condition. He thus furnished in his own 
 person to men, and in the person of his mother 
 to women, an example of virginity, by which it 
 might be proved, with respect to both sexes, 
 that the blessed state of purity possessed the 
 
 1 " sopire luxuriam," lit. to put to sleep. 
 
 2 " a filiis et filiabus": a mistaken rendering of the Hebrew 
 text. 
 
 3 Isa. lvi. 5. * Matt. xix. 12. ° Rev. xiv. 4. 
 
LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful). 
 
 mllness of divinity, 1 for whatever dwelt in the Son 
 was also wholly in the mother. But why should 
 I take pains to make known the excellent and 
 surpassing merit of chastity, and to set forth the 
 glorious good of virginity, when I am not igno- 
 rant that many have discoursed on this subject, 
 and have proved its blessedness by most con- 
 clusive reasons, and since it can never be a mat- 
 ter of doubt to any reflecting mind, that a thing 
 has all the more merit, the more difficult it is of 
 accomplishment? For if any one judges chas- 
 tity to be of no moment or only of small con- 
 sequence, it is certain that he is either ignorant 
 of the matter, or is not willing to incur the 
 trouble it implies. Hence it comes to pass 
 that those always derogate from the importance 
 of chastity, who either do not possess it, or who 
 are unwillingly compelled to maintain it. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Now, therefore, since we have set forth, al- 
 though in few words, both the difficulty and the 
 merit of purity, great care must be taken lest a 
 matter which in itself implies great virtue, and 
 is also destined to a vast reward, should fail to 
 produce its proper fruits. For the more pre- 
 cious every sort of thing is, the more it is 
 guarded with anxious solicitude. And since 
 there are many things which fail to secure their 
 proper excellence, unless they are assisted by 
 the aid of other things, as is, for instance, the 
 case with honey, which, unless it is preserved by 
 the protection of wax, and by the cells of the 
 honeycombs, and is indeed, to state the matter 
 more truly, sustained by these, loses its delicious- 
 ness and cannot exist apart by itself; and 
 again as it is with wine, which, unless it be kept 
 in vessels of a pleasant odor, and with the pitch 
 frequently renewed, loses the power of its 
 natural sweetness ; so, great care must be taken 
 lest perchance some things may be necessary 
 also to virginity, without which it can by no 
 means produce its proper fruits, and thus a 
 matter of so great difficulty may be of no advan- 
 tage (while all the time it is believed to be of 
 advantage), because it is possessed without the 
 other necessary adjuncts. For unless I am 
 mistaken, chastity is preserved in its entirety, for 
 the sake of the reward to be obtained in the 
 kingdom of heaven, which it is perfectly certain 
 no one can obtain who does * not deserve eternal 
 life. But that eternal life cannot be merited 
 except by the keeping of all the divine com- 
 mandments, the Scripture testifies, saying, " If 
 thou wilt enter into life, keep the command- 
 
 1 The text is here most uncertain; that adopted by Halm seems 
 unintelligible. 
 
 1 " quod sine aeternse vitae merito neminem consequi posse satis 
 certum est." 
 
 ments." 2 Therefore no one has that life, except 
 the man who has kept all the precepts of the 
 law, and he who has not such life cannot be a 
 possessor of the kingdom of heaven, in which it 
 is not the dead, but the living who shall reign. 
 Therefore virginity, which hopes for the glory of 
 the kingdom of heaven, will profit nothing by 
 itself, unless it also possess that to which eternal 
 life is promised, by means of which the reward 
 of the kingdom of heaven is possessed. Above 
 all things, therefore, the commandments which 
 have been enjoined upon us must be kept by 
 those who preserve chastity in its entireness, and 
 who are hoping for its reward from the justice of 
 God, lest otherwise the pains taken to maintain 
 a glorious chastity and continence come to 
 nothing. No one acquainted with the law does 
 not know that virginity is above s the command- 
 ment or precept, as the Apostle says, " Now, 
 as to virgins, I have no precept of the Lord, but 
 I give my advice." 4 When, therefore, he simply 
 gives advice about maintaining virginity, and 
 lays down no precept, he acknowledges that it 
 is above the commandment. Those, therefore, 
 who preserve virginity, do more than the com- 
 mandment requires. But it will then oidy profit 
 you to have done more than was commanded, if 
 you also do that which is commanded. For 
 how can you boast that you have done more, if, 
 in respect to some point, you do less ? Desiring 
 to fulfill the Divine counsel, see that, above all 
 things, you keep the commandment : wishing to 
 attain to the reward of virginity, see that you 
 keep fast hold of what is necessary to merit life, 
 that your chastity may be such as can receive 
 a recompense. For as the observance of the 
 commandments ensures life, so, on the other 
 hand, does the violation give rise to death. 
 And he who through disobedience has been 
 doomed to death cannot hope for the crown 
 pertaining to virginity ; nor, when really handed 
 over to punishment, can he expect the reward 
 promised to chastity. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Now, there are three kinds of virtue, by 
 means of which the possession of the kingdom 
 of heaven is secured. The first is chastity, the 
 second, contempt of the world, and the third, 
 righteousness, which, as when joined together, 
 they very greatly benefit their possessors, so, 
 when separated, they can hardly be of any 
 advantage, since every one of them is required, 
 not for its own sake only, but for the sake of 
 another. First of all, then, chastity is demanded, 
 
 2 Matt. xix. 17. 
 
 3 " supra mandatum ": Clericus remarks on this, " Non supra, 
 sedpr&t/'r, nam ea de re nihil prsscepit Christus." 
 
 4 1 Cor. vii. 25. 
 
6o 
 
 LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful). 
 
 that contempt of the world may more easily 
 follow, because the world can be more easily 
 despised by those who are not held fast in the 
 bonds of matrimony. Contempt of the world, 
 again, is required, in order that righteousness 
 may be maintained, which those can with diffi- 
 culty fully preserve who are involved in desires 
 after worldly advantages, and in the pursuit of 
 mundane pleasures. Whosoever, therefore, pos- 
 sesses the first kind of virtue, chastity, but does 
 not, at the same time, have the second, which 
 is contempt of the world, possesses the first 
 almost to no purpose, since he does not have 
 the second, for the sake of which the first was 
 required. And if any one possesses the first 
 and second, but is destitute of the third which 
 is righteousness, he labors in vain, since the 
 former two are principally required for the sake 
 of the third. For what profits it to possess 
 chastity in order to contempt of the world, and 
 yet not to have that on account of which you 
 have the other? Or why should you despise 
 the things of the world, if you do not observe 
 righteousness, for the sake of which it is fitting 
 that you should possess chastity, as well as con- 
 tempt for the world? For as the first kind of 
 virtue is on account of the second, and the sec- 
 ond on account of the third, so the first and the 
 second are on account of the third ; and if it 
 does not exist, neither the first nor the second 
 will prove of any advantage. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 But you perhaps say here, " Teach me, 
 then, what righteousness is, so that knowing it, 
 I may be able more easily to fully practice it." 
 Well, I shall briefly explain it to you, as I am 
 able, and shall use the simplicity of common 
 words, seeing that the subject of which we treat 
 is such as ought by no means to be obscured by 
 attempts at eloquent description, but should be 
 opened up by the simplest forms of expression. 
 For a matter which is necessary to all in common 
 ought to be set forth in a common sort of speech. 
 Righteousness, then, is nothing else than not to 
 commit sin ; and not to commit sin is just to 
 keep the precepts of the law. Now, the ob- 
 servance of these precepts is maintained in a 
 two-fold way — thus, that one do none of those 
 things which are forbidden, and that he strive to 
 fulfill the things which are commanded. This is 
 the meaning of the following statement : " De- 
 part from evil, and do 1 good." For I do not 
 wish you to think that righteousness consists 
 simply in not doing evil, since not to do good is 
 also evil, and a transgression of the law takes 
 place in both, since he who said, " Depart from 
 evil " said also, " and do good." If you depart 
 
 1 Ps. xxxiv. 14. 
 
 from evil, and do not do good, you are a trans- 
 gressor of the law, which is fulfilled, not simply 
 by abhorring all evil deeds, but also by the 
 performance of good works. For, indeed, you 
 have not merely received this commandment, 
 that you should not deprive one who is clothed 
 of his garments, but that you should cover with 
 your own the man who has been deprived of 
 his ; nor that you should not take away bread 
 of his own from one who has it, but that you 
 should willingly impart of your bread to him 
 who has none ; nor that you should not simply 
 not drive away a poor man from a shelter of his 
 own, but that you should receive him when he 
 has been driven out, and has no shelter, into 
 your own. For the precept which has been 
 given us is "to weep with them that 2 weep." 
 But how can we weep with them, if we share in 
 none of their necessities, and afford no help to 
 them in those matters on account of which they 
 lament? For God does not call for the fruit- 
 less moisture of our tears; but, because tears 
 are an indication of grief, he wishes you to feel 
 the distresses of another as if they were your 
 own. And just as you would wish aid to be 
 given you if you were in such tribulation, so 
 should you help another in accordance with the 
 statement, " Whatsoever ye would that men 
 should do unto you, do ye even so 3 to them." 
 For to weep with one that weeps, and at the 
 same time to refuse to help, when you can, him 
 that weeps, is a proof of mockery, and not of 
 piety. In short, our Saviour wept with Mary 
 and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus, and proved 
 the feeling of infinite compassion within him by 
 the witness of his tears. But works, as the 
 proofs of true affection soon followed, when 
 Lazarus, for whose sake the tears were shed, was 
 raised up and restored to his sisters. This was 
 sincerely to weep with those who wept, when the 
 occasion of the weeping was removed. But he 
 did it, you will say, as having the power. Well, 
 nothing is demanded of you which it is impos- 
 sible for you to perform : he has fulfilled his 
 entire duty who has done what he could. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 But (as we had begun to remark) it is not 
 sufficient for a Christian to keep himself from 
 wickedness, unless he also has fulfilled the duties 
 implied in good works, as is very distinctly 
 proved by that statement in which the Lord 
 threatened that those will be doomed to eternal 
 fire, who, although they have done no evil, have 
 not done all that is good, declaring " Then 
 will the king say to those who are on his right 
 hand : depart from me, ye cursed, into eternal 
 
 2 Rom. xii. 15. 3 Matt. vii. 12. 
 
LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful). 
 
 61 
 
 fire, which ray Father has prepared for the devil 
 and his angels ; for I was hungry, and ye gave 
 me not to eat ; I was thirsty, and ye gave me 
 no * drink," with what follows. He did not say, 
 "Depart from me, ye cursed, because ye have 
 committed murder, or adultery, or theft " ; for 
 it is not because they had done evil, but because 
 they had not done good, that they are con- 
 demned, and doomed to the punishments of 
 the eternal Gehenna ; nor because they had 
 committed things which were forbidden, but 
 because they had not been willing to do those 
 things which had been commanded. And from 
 this it is to be observed what hope those can 
 have, who, in addition, do some of those things 
 which are forbidden, when even such are doomed 
 to eternal fire as have simply not done the things 
 which are commanded. For I do not wish you 
 to flatter yourself in this way, — if you have not 
 done certain things, because you have done cer- 
 tain other things, since it is written, " Whoso- 
 ever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in 
 one point, has become guilty of all." 2 For 
 Adam sinned once, and died ; and do you think 
 that you can live, when you are often doing that 
 which killed another person, when he had only 
 done it once? Or do you imagine that he com- 
 mitted a great crime, and was therefore justly 
 condemned to a severer punishment? Let us 
 consider, then, what it was he really did. He 
 ate of the fruit of the tree, contrary to the com- 
 mandment. What then? Did God punish man 
 with death for the sake of the fruit of a tree? 
 No : not on account of the fruit of the tree, but 
 on account of the contempt of the command- 
 ment. The question, therefore, is not about the 
 nature of the offense, but about the trans- 
 gression of the commandment. And the same 
 being who told Adam not to eat of the fruit of 
 the tree, has commanded you not to speak evil, 
 not to lie, not to detract, not to listen to a de- 
 tractor, to swear not at all, not to covet, not to 
 envy, not to be drunken, not to be greedy, not 
 to render evil for evil to any one, to love your 
 enemies, to bless them that curse you, to pray 
 for them that malign and persecute you, to turn 
 the other cheek to one smiting you, and not to 
 go to law before a worldly tribunal, so that, if 
 any one seeks to take away your goods, you 
 should joyfully lose them, to flee from the charge 
 of avarice, to beware of the sin of all pride and 
 boastfulness, and live, humble and meek, after 
 the example of Christ, avoiding fellowship with 
 the wicked so completely that you will not even 
 eat with fornicators, or covetous persons, or 
 those that speak evil of others, or the envious, 
 or detractors, or the drunken, or the rapacious. 
 Now, if you despise him in any such matter. 
 
 1 Matt. x.w. 41. 
 
 2 James ii. io- 
 
 then, if he spared Adam, he will also spare you. 
 Yea, he might have been spared with better 
 reason than you, inasmuch as he was still igno- 
 rant and inexperienced, and was restrained by 
 the example of no one who had previously 
 sinned, and who had died on account of his sin. 
 But after such examples as you possess, after 
 the law, after the prophets, after the gospels, and 
 after the apostles, if you still set your mind on 
 transgressing, I see not in what way pardon can 
 be extended to you. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Do you flatter yourself on account of the at- 
 tribute of virginity? Remember Adam and 
 Eve fell when they were virgins, and that the 
 perfect purity of their bodies did not profit them 
 when they sinned. The virgin who sins is to be 
 compared to Eve, and not to Mary. We do not 
 deny that, in the present life, there is the rem- 
 edy of repentance, but we remind you rather to 
 hope for reward, than to look for pardon. For 
 it is disgraceful that those should ask for indul- 
 gence who are expecting the crown of virginity, 
 and that those should commit anything unlawful 
 who have even cut themselves off from things 
 lawful ; for it must be remembered that it is law- 
 ful to contract an alliance by marriage. And 
 as those are to be praised who, from love to 
 Christ, and for the glory of the kingdom oi 
 heaven, have despised the tie of wedlock, sc 
 those are to be condemned who, through the 
 pleasure of incontinence, after they have vowed 
 themselves to God, have recourse to the Apostolic 
 remedy. Therefore, as we have said, those who 
 decline marriage despise not things unlawful, 
 but things lawful. And if that class of people 
 swear, if they speak evil of others, if they are 
 detractors, or if they patiently listen to detract- 
 ors, if they return evil for evil, if they incur the 
 charge of covetousness with respect to other 
 people's property, or of avarice in regard to 
 their own, if they cherish the poison of revenge 
 or envy, if they either say or think anything 
 unbefitting against the institutions of the law or 
 the Apostles, if with a desire of pleasing in the 
 flesh, they exhibit themselves dressed up and 
 adorned, if they do any other unlawful things, 
 as is only too common, what will it profit them 
 to have spurned what is lawful, while they prac- 
 tice what is not lawful? If you wish it to be of 
 advantage to you, that you have despised things 
 lawful, take care that you do not any of those 
 things which are not lawful. For, it is foolish 
 to have dreaded that which is in its nature less, 
 and not to dread that which is intrinsically more 
 [or not to avoid those things J which are inter- 
 
 1 The genuineness of this clause is very doubtful, and the text 
 is, at best, exceedingly corrupt. 
 
62 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 dieted, while such things as are permitted meet 
 with contempt]. For the Apostle says, "She 
 that is unmarried careth for the things of the 
 Lord, how she may please God, that she may 
 be holy both in body and spirit ; but she who is 
 married careth for the things of this world, how 
 she may please 2 her husband." He thus affirms 
 that the married woman pleases her husband by 
 thinking of worldly things, while the unmarried 
 woman pleases God, inasmuch as she has no 
 anxiety about the things of the world. Let him 
 tell me, then, whom she desires to please, who 
 has no husband, and yet cares for the things of 
 the world ? Shall not the married woman, in 
 such a case, be preferred to her? Yes, since 
 she by caring for the things of the world pleases 
 at least her husband, but the other neither 
 pleases her husband, since she does not have 
 one, nor can she please God. 3 But it is not 
 fitting that we should pass over in silence that 
 which he said : " The unmarried woman careth 
 for the things of the Lord, how she may please 
 God, that she may be holy both in body and 
 spirit " [she careth, he says, for the things of the 
 Lord ; she does not care for the things of the 
 world, or of men, but for the things of God]. 
 What, then, are the things of the Lord? Let 
 the Apostle tell : "Whatsoever 4 things are holy, 
 whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are 
 lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if 
 there be any virtue, and if there be any praise of 
 doctrine " : these are the things of the Lord, 
 which holy and truly apostolic virgins meditate 
 upon, and think of, day and night, without any 
 interval of time. Of the Lord is the resurrec- 
 tion of the dead, of the Lord is immortality, of 
 the Lord is incorruption, of the Lord is that 
 splendor of the sun which is promised to the 
 saints, as it is written in the Gospel, "Then 
 shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the 
 kingdom of their Father" : 5 of the Lord are the 
 many mansions of the righteous in the heavens, 
 of the - Lord is the fruit which is produced, 
 whether thirty fold, or sixty fold,*or an hundred 
 fold. Those virgins who think on these things, 
 and by what works they may be able to merit 
 them, think of the things of the Lord. Of the 
 Lord, too, is the law of the new and old tes- 
 tament, in which shine forth the holy utterances 
 of his lips ; and if any virgins meditate without 
 intermission on these things, they think of the 
 things of the Lord. In that case, there is ful- 
 filled in them the saying of the prophet : " The 
 eternal 6 foundations are upon a solid rock, and 
 the commands of God are in the heart of the 
 holv woman." 
 
 2 i Cor. vii. 34. 
 
 3 The text is here very uncertain; we have followed that of 
 Halm, but with hesitation. 
 
 4 Phil. iv. 8, with the addition of €7rtcrT77/j.ij5. 
 
 5 Matt. xiii. 43. ° Eccl. xxvi. 24. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 There follows the clause " how she may 
 please God," — God, I say, not men, — " that she 
 may be holy both in body and spirit." He does 
 not say that she may be holy only in a member 
 or in the body, but that she may be holy in 
 body and spirit. For a member is only one 
 part of the body, but the body is a union of all 
 the members. When, therefore, he says that 
 she may be holy in the body, he testifies that 
 she ought to be sanctified in all her members, 
 because the sanctification of the other members 
 will not avail, if corruption be found remaining 
 in one. Also, she will not be holy in body 
 (which consists of all the members), who is de- 
 filed by the pollution of even one of them. 
 But in order that what I say may be made more 
 obvious and clear, suppose the case of a woman 
 who is purified by the sanctification of all her 
 other members, and sins only with her tongue, 
 inasmuch as she either speaks evil 1 of people or 
 bears false testimony, will all her other members 
 secure the acquittal of one, or will all the rest 
 be judged on account of the one ? If, there- 
 fore, the sanctification of the other members 
 will not avail, even when one only is at fault, 
 how much more, if all are corrupted by the 
 guilt of various sins, will the perfection of one 
 be of no avail ? 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Wherefore, I beseech you, O virgin, do not 
 flatter yourself on the ground of your purity 
 alone, and do not trust in the perfection of one 
 member ; but according to the Apostle, main- 
 tain the sanctity of your body throughout. 
 Cleanse thy head from all defilement, because 
 it is a disgrace that it, after the sanctifying oil 
 has been applied to it, should be polluted with 
 the juice or powder of either crocus, or any 
 other pigment, or should be adorned with gold 
 or gems or any other earthly ornament, because 
 it already shines with the radiance of heavenly 
 adornment. It is undoubtedly a grave insult to 
 Divine grace to prefer to it any mundane and 
 worldly ornament. And next, cleanse thy fore- 
 head, that it may blush at human, and not at 
 Divine works, and may display that shame which 
 gives rise not to sin, but to the favor of God, 
 as the sacred Scripture declares, "There is a 
 shame that causes sin, and there is a shame that 
 brings with it the favor 1 of God." Cleanse, 
 too, thy neck, that it may not carry thy 2 locks 
 in a golden net and necklaces hung round it, 
 
 1 " Elasphemet." 
 1 Eccl. iv. 21. 
 
 - The text is here most uncertain: Halm's " ut non aurea reti- 
 cula capillus portet " is " that thy hair may not carry golden nets." 
 
LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful). 
 
 but may rather bear about it those ornaments 
 of which the Scripture says, "Let not 3 mercy 
 and faith depart from thee," and hang them 
 upon thy heart as upon thy neck. Cleanse thine 
 eyes, whilst thou dost withdraw them from all 
 concupiscence, and dost never turn them away 
 from the sight of the poor, and dost keep them 
 from all dyes, in that purity in which they were 
 made by God. Cleanse thy tongue from false- 
 hood, because " a mouth i which tells lies de- 
 stroys the soul " : cleanse it from detraction, from 
 swearing, and from perjury. I beg you not to 
 think it is an inverted order that I have said the 
 tongue should be cleansed from swearing be- 
 fore perjury, for one will then the more easily 
 escape perjury, if he swears not at all, so that 
 there may be fulfilled in him that statement, 
 " Keep 5 thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from 
 speaking guile." And be mindful of the Apostle 
 who says, "Bless, and G curse not." But often 
 call to mind the following words, " See that 
 no one render evil for evil to any man, or curs- 
 ing for cursing, but on the contrary, do ye bless 
 them, because to this ye have been called, that 
 ye should possess a blessing 7 by inheritance " ; 
 and this other passage, " If any 8 one offend 
 not in tongue, he is a perfect man." For it is 
 shameful that those lips, by which you confess 
 God, pray to him, bless him, and praise him, 
 should be defiled by the pollution of any sin. 
 I know not with what conscience any one can 
 pray to God with that tongue with which he 
 either speaks falsehood, or calumniates, or de- 
 tracts: God listens to holy lips, and speedily 
 answers those prayers which an unpolluted 
 tongue pours forth. Cleanse also thine ears, so 
 that they may not listen except to holy and true 
 discourse, that they never admit into them ob- 
 scene, or infamous, or worldly words, or tolerate 
 any one detracting from another, on account of 
 that which is written, " Hedge up 9 thine ears 
 with thorns, and do not listen to a wicked 
 tongue, that you may have your part with him, 
 of whom it is said, that he was 10 righteous in 
 hearing and seeing ; i.e. he sinned neither with 
 his eyes nor his ears. Cleanse, too, thy hands, 
 " that they u be not stretched out to receive, but 
 shut against giving," and that they be not prompt 
 to strike, but ever ready for all the works of 
 mercy and piety. In fine, cleanse thy feet, that 
 they follow not the broad and ample way which 
 leads to grand and costly worldly banquets, but 
 that they tread rather the difficult and narrow 
 path, which guides to heaven, for it is written, 
 "Make a 12 straight path for your feet." Ac- 
 knowledge that your members were formed for 
 
 3 Prov. iii. 3. 
 
 4 Wisd. i. 11. 
 
 5 Ps. xxxiv. 13. 
 Rom. xii. 14. 
 
 7 1 Thess. v. 15; 1 Pet. iii. 9. 
 
 8 James iii. 2. 
 
 Eccl. xxviii. 24. 
 
 10 2 Pet. ii. 8. 
 
 11 Eccles. iv. 31. 
 
 12 Prov. iv. 26. 
 
 you by God the Maker, not for vices, but for 
 virtues ; and, when you have cleansed the whole 
 of your limbs from every stain of sin, and they 
 have become sanctified throughout your whole 
 body, then understand that this purity will profit 
 you, and look forward with all confidence to the 
 prize of virginity. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 I believe that I have now set forth, briefly 
 indeed, but, at the same time, fully, what is im- 
 plied in a woman's purity of body : it remains 
 that we should learn what it is to be pure also 
 in spirit ; i.e. that what it is unlawful for one to 
 do in act, it is also unlawful for one even to 
 imagine in thought. For she is holy, alike in 
 body and in spirit, who sins neither in mind nor 
 heart, knowing that God is one who examines 
 also the heart ; and, therefore, she takes every 
 pains to possess a mind as well as a body free 
 from sin. Such a person is aware that it is 
 written, "Keep thy 1 heart with all diligence"; 
 and again, " God loveth 2 holy hearts, and all 
 the undefiled are acceptable to him " ; and else- 
 where, " Blessed 3 are those of a pure heart ; for 
 they shall see God." I think that this last 
 statement is made regarding those whom con- 
 science accuses of the guilt of no sin ; concern- 
 ing whom I think that John also spoke in his 
 Epistle when he said, " If our heart 4 condemn 
 us not, then have we confidence towards God, 
 and whatsoever we ask we shall receive from 
 him." I do not wish you to think that you have 
 escaped the accusation of sin, although act does 
 not follow desire, since it is written, " Whoso- 
 ever 5 looketh on a woman to lust after her, 
 hath already committed adultery with her in his 
 heart." And do not say, " I had the thought, 
 indeed, but I did not carry it out in act " ; for 
 it is unlawful even to desire that which it is 
 unlawful to do. Wherefore also blessed Peter 
 issues a precept to this effect : " purify your 6 
 souls " ; and if he had not been aware of such 
 a thing as defilement of the soul, he would not 
 have expressed a desire that it should be puri- 
 fied. But we should also very carefully con- 
 sider that passage which says, " These "' are 
 they who did not defile themselves with women, 
 for they remained virgins, and they follow the 
 Lamb whithersoever he goeth " ; and should re- 
 flect whether, if these are joined to the Divine 
 retinue, and traverse all the regions of the 
 heavens, through the merit of chastity and 
 purity alone, there may be also other means by 
 which virginity being assisted may attain to the 
 
 1 Prov. iv. 23. 
 
 2 Prov. xvii. 3; xi. 
 
 3 Matt. v. 8. 
 
 4 1 John iii, 21. 
 
 Matt. v. 28. 
 1 Pet. i. 22. 
 Rev. xiv. 4. 
 
64 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 glory of so great blessedness. But whence 
 shall we be able to know this? From the fol- 
 lowing passages (if I mistake not) in which it is 
 written, "These were 8 purchased from among 
 men as the first fruits to God and the Lamb, 
 and in their mouth there was found no false- 
 hood, for they are without spot before the throne 
 of God." You see, then, that they are spoken 
 of as closely following in the footsteps of the 
 Lord, not in virtue of one member only, but 
 those are said to do so, who, besides virginity, 
 had passed a life freed from all the pollution of 
 sin. Wherefore, let the virgin especially despise 
 marriage on this account, that, while she is safer 
 than others, she may the more easily accomplish 
 what is also required from those who are mar- 
 ried ; viz. keep herself from all sin, and obey 
 all the commandments of the law. For if she 
 does not marry, and nevertheless indulges in 
 those things from which even married women 
 are enjoined to keep themselves free, what will 
 it profit her not to have married ? For although 
 it is not allowed to any Christian to commit sin, 
 and it befits all without exception who are puri- 
 fied through the sanctification of the spiritual 
 bath, to lead an unstained life, that they may be 
 thoroughly identified 9 with the Church, which 
 is described as being "without 10 spot, or wrinkle, 
 or any such thing," much more is it requisite 
 that a virgin should reach this standard, whom 
 neither the existence of a husband, nor of sons, 
 nor of any other necessity, prevents from fully 
 carrying out the demands of holy Scripture ; nor 
 shall she be able, if she fail, to defend herself 
 by any sort of excuse. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 O virgin, maintain thy purpose which is des- 
 tined for a great reward. Eminent with the 
 Lord is the virtue of virginity and purity, if it 
 be not disfigured by other kinds of lapses into 
 sins and wickedness. Realize your state, realize 
 your position, realize your purpose. You are 
 called the bride of Christ ; see that you commit 
 no act which is unworthy of him to whom you 
 profess to be betrothed. He will quickly write 
 a bill of divorcement, if he perceive in you even 
 one act of unfaithfulness. Accordingly, whoso- 
 ever receives those gifts which, as an earnest, 
 are bestowed in the case of human betrothals, 
 immediately begins earnestly and diligently to 
 enquire of domestics, intimates, and friends, 
 what is the character of the young man, what 
 he especially loves, what he receives, in what 
 style he lives, what habits he practices, what lux- 
 uries he indulges in, and in what pursuits he 
 
 8 Rev. xiv. 4 ff. 
 
 " visceribus intimari." 
 
 Eph. v. 27. 
 
 finds his chief pleasure and delight. And when 
 she has learned these things, she so conducts 
 herself, in all respects, that her service, her 
 cheerfulness, her diligence, and her whole mode 
 of life, may be in harmony with the char- 
 acter of her betrothed. And do thou, who 
 hast Christ as thy bridegroom, enquire from 
 the domestics and intimates of that bridegroom 
 of thine what is his character ; yes, do thou 
 zealously and skillfully enquire in what things he 
 specially delights, what sort of arrangement he 
 loves in thy dress, and what kind of adornment 
 he desires. Let his most intimate associate 
 Peter tell thee, who does not allow personal 
 adorning even to married women, as he has 
 written in his epistle, " Let wives, 1 in like 
 manner, be subject to their own husbands, so 
 that, if any believe not the word, they may, 
 without the word, be won over by the conduct 
 of their wives, contemplating their chaste be- 
 havior in the fear of God ; and let theirs not be 
 an outward adornment of the hair, or the put- 
 ting on of gold, or elegance in the apparel which 
 is adopted, but let there be the hidden man of 
 the heart in the stainlessness 2 of a peaceful 
 and modest spirit, which is in the sight of God 
 of great price." Let another apostle also tell 
 thee, the blessed Paul, who, writing to Timothy, 
 gives his approval to the same things in regard 
 to the conduct of believing women : " Let 
 wives 3 in like manner adorn themselves with the 
 ornament of a habit of modesty and sobriety, 
 not with curled hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly 
 array, but as becomes women that profess 
 chastity, with good and upright behavior." 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 But perhaps you say, "Why did not the 
 Apostles enjoin these things on virgins?" Be- 
 cause they did not think that necessary, lest such 
 an exhortation, if given to them, might rather 
 seem an insult than a means of edification. Nor, 
 in fact, would they have believed that virgins 
 could ever proceed to such an extreme of har- 
 dihood, as to claim for themselves carnal and 
 worldly ornaments, not permitted even to mar- 
 ried women. Undoubtedly, the virgin ought to 
 adorn and array herself; for how can she be 
 able to please her betrothed, if she does not 
 come forth in a neat and ornamental form? 
 Let her be adorned by all means, but let her 
 ornaments be of an internal and spiritual kind, 
 and not of a carnal nature ; for God desires in 
 her a beauty not of the body, but of the soul. 
 Do thou, therefore, who desirest that thy soul 
 
 1 1 Pet. iii. 1 ff. 
 - " incorruptibilitate." 
 
 3 1 Tim. ii. 9, 10; chastity is here unwarrantably read in place 
 of godliness. 
 
LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful). 
 
 65 
 
 should be loved and dwelt in by God, array it 
 with all diligence, and adorn it with spiritual 
 garments. Let nothing unbecoming, nothing 
 repulsive, be seen in it. Let it shine with the 
 gold of righteousness, and gleam with the gems 
 of holiness, and glitter with the most precious 
 pearl of purity ; instead of fine linen and silk, let 
 it be arrayed in the robe of mercifulness and 
 piety, according to what is written, " Put ye 1 on, 
 therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, 
 bowels of mercy, kindness, humility," and so 
 forth. And let the virgin not ask for the beauty 
 due to ceruse, 2 or any other pigment, but let her 
 have the brightness of innocence and simplicity, 
 the rosy hue of modesty, and the purple glow of 
 honorable shamefacedness. Let her be washed 
 with the nitre of heavenly doctrine, and purified 
 by all spiritual lavements. 3 Let no stain of 
 malice or sin be left in her. And lest, at any 
 time, she should give forth the evil odor of sin, 
 let her be imbued, through and through, with 
 the most pleasant ointment of wisdom and 
 knowledge. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 God seeks for adornment of this kind, and 
 desires a soul arrayed in such a manner. Re- 
 member that you are called the daughter of 
 God, according to what he says, " Hearken, 1 O 
 daughter, and consider." But you yourself also, 
 as often as you call God your Father, bear wit- 
 ness that you are the daughter of God. Where- 
 fore, if you are the daughter of God, take care 
 that you do none of those things which are un- 
 worthy of God, your Father ; but do all things 
 as being the daughter of God. Reflect how the 
 daughters of nobles in this world conduct them- 
 selves, to what habits they are accustomed and 
 by what exercises they train themselves. In 
 some of them, there is so great modesty, so great 
 dignity, so great self-restraint, that they excel 
 the habits of other human beings in regard to 
 human nobleness, and, lest they should attach 
 any mark of disgrace on their honorable parents 
 by their failure, they strive to acquire another - 
 nature for themselves by the mode of their 
 acting in the world. And do you, therefore, 
 have regard to your origin, consider your de- 
 scent, attend to the glory of your nobility. 
 Acknowledge that you are not merely the 
 daughter of man, but of God, and adorned with 
 the nobility of a divine birth. So present your- 
 self to the world that your heavenly birth be 
 
 1 Col. iii. 12. 
 
 2 "cerussEe": white lead, used by women to whiten their 
 skins. 
 
 3 "lomentis": a mixture of bean-meal and rice, used as a 
 lotion to preserve the smoothness of the skin. 
 
 1 Ps. xlv. 10. 
 
 2 Only a guess can here be made at the meaning; the text is in 
 utter confusion. 
 
 seen in you, and your divine nobleness shine 
 clearly forth. Let there be in you a new dignity, 
 an admirable virtue, a notable modesty, a mar- 
 velous patience, a gait becoming a virgin with a 
 bearing of true shamefacedness, speech always 
 modest, and such as is uttered only at the 
 proper time, so that whosoever beholds you may 
 admiringly exclaim : "What is this exhibition of 
 new dignity among men? What is this striking 
 modesty, what this well-balanced excellence, 
 what this ripeness of wisdom ? This is not the 
 outcome of human training or of mere human 
 discipline. Something heavenly sheds its fra- 
 grance on me in that earthly body. I really 
 believe that God does reside in some human 
 beings." And when he comes to know that you 
 are a handmaid of Christ, he will be seized with 
 the greater amazement, and will reflect how 
 marvelous must be the Master, when his hand- 
 maid manifests such excellence. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 If you wish, then, to be with Christ, you must 
 live according to the example of Christ, who was 
 so far removed from all evil and wickedness, 
 that he did not render a recompense even to 
 his enemies, but rather even prayed for them. 
 For I do not wish you to reckon those souls 
 Christian, who (I do not say) hate either their 
 brothers or sisters, but who do not, before God 
 as a witness, love their neighbors with their 
 whole heart and conscience, since it is a bounden 
 duty for Christians, after the example of Christ 
 himself, even to love their enemies. If you 
 desire to possess fellowship with the saints, 
 cleanse your heart from the thought of malice 
 and sin. Let no one circumvent you ; let no 
 one delude you by beguiling speech. The court 
 of heaven will admit none except the holy, and 
 righteous, and simple, and innocent, and pure. 
 Evil has no place in the presence of God. It is 
 necessary that he who desires to reign with 
 Christ should be free from all wickedness and 
 guile. Nothing is so offensive, and nothing so 
 detestable to God, as to hate any one, to wish 
 to harm any one ; while nothing is so acceptable 
 to him as to love all men. The prophet know- 
 ing this bears witness to it when he teaches, 
 "Ye who 1 love the Lord, hate evil." 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Take heed that ye love not human glory in 
 any respect, lest your portion also be reckoned 
 among those to whom it was said, " How x can 
 ye believe, who seek glory, one from another?" 
 
 1 Ps. xcvii. 10. 
 
 1 John v. 44. 
 
66 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 and of whom it is said through the prophet, 
 " Increase 2 evils to them ; increase evils to the 
 boastful of the earth " ; and elsewhere, " Ye are 
 confounded 3 from your boasting, from your re- 
 proaching in the sight of the Lord." For I do 
 not wish you to have regard to those, who are 
 virgins of the world, and not of Christ ; who un- 
 mindful of their purpose and profession, rejoice 
 in delicacies, are delighted with riches, and boast 
 of their descent from a merely carnal nobility ; 
 who, if they assuredly believed themselves to be 
 the daughters of God, would never, after their 
 divine ancestry, admire mere human nobility, 
 nor glory in any honored earthly father : if they 
 felt that they had God as their Father, they 
 would not love any nobility connected with the 
 flesh. Why, thou foolish woman, dost thou 
 flatter thyself about the nobleness of thy descent, 
 and take delight in it? God, at the beginning, 
 created two human beings, from whom the whole 
 multitude of the human race has descended ; 
 and thus it is not the equity of nature, but the 
 ambition of evil desire, which has given rise to 
 worldly nobility. Unquestionably, we are all 
 rendered equal by the grace of the divine 4 bath, 
 and there can be no difference among those, 
 whom the second birth has generated, by means 
 of which alike the rich man and the poor man, 
 the free man and the slave, the nobly born and 
 the lowly born, is rendered a son of God. Thus 
 mere earthly rank is overshadowed by the bril- 
 liance of heavenly glory, and henceforth is taken 
 no account of, while those who formerly had 
 been unequal in worldly honors are now equally 
 arrayed in the glory of a heavenly and divine 
 nobility. There is now among such no place 
 for lowness of birth ; nor is any one inferior to 
 another whom the majesty of the divine birth 
 adorns ; except in the estimation of those who 
 do not think that the things of heaven are to be 
 preferred to those of earth. There can be no 
 worldly boasting among them, if they reflect how 
 vain a thing it is that they should, in smaller mat- 
 ters, prefer themselves to those whom they know 
 to be equal to themselves in greater matters, and 
 should regard, as placed below themselves on 
 earth, those whom they believe to be equal to 
 themselves in what relates to heaven. But do 
 thou, who art a virgin of Christ, and not of the 
 world, flee from all the glory of this present life, 
 that thou mayest attain to the glory which is 
 promised in the world to come. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Avoid words of contention and causes of ani- 
 mosity : flee also from all occasions of discord 
 
 2 Isa. xxvi. 15, after the LXX. 
 
 3 Jer. xii. 13, after the LXX. 
 
 i " divini lavacri " : referring to baptism. 
 
 and strife. For if, according to the doctrine of 
 the Apostle " the servant : of the Lord must not 
 strive," how much more does this become the 
 handmaid of the Lord, whose mind ought to be 
 more gentle, as her sex is more bashful and 
 retiring. Restrain thy tongue from evil speak- 
 ing, and put the bridle of the law upon thy 
 mouth ; so that you shall speak, if you speak at 
 all, only when it would be a sin to be silent. 
 Beware lest you utter anything which might be 
 justly found fault with. A word once spoken is 
 like a stone which has been thrown : wherefore 
 it should be long thought over before it is 
 uttered. Blessed, assuredly, are the lips, which 
 never utter what they would wish to recall. 
 The talk of a chaste mind ought itself also to be 
 chaste, such as may always rather edify than 
 injure the hearers, according to that command- 
 ment of the Apostle when he says, " Let no 2 
 corrupt communications proceed out of your 
 mouth, but that which is good for the edification 
 of faith, that it may convey grace to them that 
 hear." Precious to God is that tongue which 
 knows not to form words except about divine 
 things, and holy is that mouth from which 
 heavenly utterances continually flow forth. Put 
 down by the authority of Scripture calumniators 
 of those who are absent, as being evil-minded 
 persons, because the prophet mentions this also 
 as among the virtues of a perfect man, if, in the 
 presence of the righteous an evil-minded man, 
 who brings forward things against his neighbor 
 which cannot be proved, is brought down to 
 nothing. For it is not lawful for you patiently 
 to listen to evil-speaking against another, inas- 
 much as you would not wish that to be done by 
 others when directed against yourself. Certainly, 
 everything is unrighteous which goes against the 
 Gospel of Christ, and that is the case, if you 
 quietly permit anything to be done to another, 
 which you would feel painful, if done by any 
 one to yourself. Accustom your tongue always 
 to speak about those who are good, and lend 
 your ears rather to listen to the praises of good 
 men than to the condemnation of such as are 
 wicked. Take heed that all the good actions 
 you perform are done for the sake of God, 
 knowing that for every such deed you will only 
 receive a reward, so far as you have done it out 
 of regard to his fear and love. Study rather to 
 be holy than to appear so, because it is of no 
 avail to be reckoned what you are not ; and the 
 guilt of a twofold sin is contracted when you do 
 not have what you are credited with having, and 
 when you pretend to possess what you do not 
 possess. 
 
 1 2 Tim. ii. 24. 
 
 Eph. iv. 29. 
 
LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful). 
 
 67 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Delight thyself rather in fastings than in 
 feastings, mindful of that widow who did not 
 depart from the temple, but served God with 
 fastings and prayers day and night. Now, if 
 she who was a widow, and a Jewish widow, 
 proved herself such, what is it fitting that a vir- 
 gin of Christ should now attain to ? Love more 
 than any other thing the feast of the divine 
 word, and desire that you be filled with spiritual 
 dainties, while you seek for such food as re- 
 freshes the soul, rather than for that which only 
 pleases the body. Flee from all kinds of flesh 
 and wine, as being the sources of heat and 
 provocatives to lust. And only then, if need be, 
 use a little wine, when the stomach's uneasiness, 
 or great infirmity of body, requires you to do' 
 so. Subdue anger, restrain enmity, and what- 
 ever there may be which gives rise to remorse 
 when it is done, avoid as an abomination giving 
 rise 1 to immediate sin. It is fitting that that 
 mind should be very tranquil and quiet, as well 
 as free from all the tumults of anger, which 
 desires to be the dwelling-place of God, as he 
 testifies through the prophet, saying, " Upon 2 
 what other man shall I rest than upon him who 
 is humble and quiet, and who trembleth at my 
 words?" Believe that God is a witness of all 
 thy deeds and thoughts, and take good heed lest 
 you either do or think anything which is un- 
 worthy of the divine eyesight. When you de- 
 sire to engage in prayer, show yourself in such 
 a frame of mind as becomes one who is to speak 
 with the Lord. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 When you repeat 1 a psalm, consider whose 
 words you are repeating and delight yourself 
 more with true contrition of soul, than with the 
 pleasantness of a trilling voice. For God sets a 
 higher value on the tears of one thus praising 2 
 him, than on the beauty of his voice ; as the 
 prophet says, " Serve 3 the Lord with fear, and 
 rejoice with trembling." Now, where there are 
 fear and trembling, there is no lifting up of the 
 voice, but humility of mind with lamentation 
 and tears. Display diligence in all thy doings ; 
 for it is written, " Cursed 4 is the man who 
 carelessly performs the work of the Lord." 
 Let grace grow in you with years ; let righteous- 
 ness increase with age ; and let your faith ap- 
 pear the more perfect the older you become ; 
 
 1 " velut proximi criminis abominationem declina": the text 
 and construction are both very uncertain, so that we can only make 
 a guess at the meaning. 
 
 2 Isa. lxvi. 2. 
 
 1 " dicis " : the reference seems to be to singing or chanting. 
 
 2 " psallentis." 3 p s . u . ri _ 4 j er . x i vu i. IO , 
 
 for Jesus, who has left us an example how to 
 live, increased not only in years as respected 
 his body, but in wisdom and spiritual grace be- 
 fore God and men. Reckon all the time in 
 which you do not perceive yourself growing 
 better as positively lost. Maintain to the last 
 that purpose of virginity which you have formed ; 
 for it is the part of virtue not merely to begin, 
 but to finish, as the Lord says in the Gospel, 
 "Whosoever 5 shall endure to the end, the same 
 shall be saved." Beware, therefore, lest you 
 furnish to any one an occasion even of evil 
 desire, because thy God, betrothed to thee, is 
 jealous ; for an adulteress against Christ is more 
 guilty than one against her husband. Be thou, 
 therefore, a model of life to all ; be an example ; 
 and excel in actual conduct those whom you 
 precede in your consecration e to chastity. 
 Show thyself in all respects a virgin ; and let 
 no stain of corruption be brought as a charge 
 against thy person. And let one whose body is 
 perfect in its purity be also irreproachable in 
 conduct. Now, as we said in the beginning of 
 this letter, that you have become a sacrifice per- 
 taining to God, such a sacrifice as undoubtedly 
 imparts its own sanctity also to others, that, as 
 every one worthily receives from it, he himself 
 also may be a partaker of sanctification, so 
 then, let the other virgins also be sanctified 
 through you, as by means of a divine offering. 
 Show yourself to them so holy in all things, 
 that, whosoever comes in contact with thy life, 
 whether by hearing or seeing, may experience 
 the power of sanctification, and may feel that 
 such an amount of grace passes to him from 
 your manner of acting, that, while he desires to 
 imitate thee, he himself becomes worthy of being 
 a sacrifice devoted to God. 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 A LETTER OF SEVERUS TO HOLY PAUL THE 
 BISHOP. 
 
 After I learned that all thy cooks had given 1 
 up thy kitchen (I believe because they felt in- 
 dignant at having to fulfill the duty towards cheap 
 dishes of pulse"), I sent a little boy to you out 
 of our own workshop. He is quite skillful enough 
 to cook pale beans and to pickle homely beet- 
 root, with vinegar and sauce, as well as to pre- 
 pare cheap porridge for the jaws of the hungry 
 monks. He knows nothing, however, of pepper 
 or of laser, 3 but he is quite at home with cumin, 
 
 5 Matt. x. 22. 
 
 e The text and meaning are here somewhat uncertain. 
 
 1 " renuntiasse." 
 
 2 " pulmentariis " : this word generally means some sort of 
 relish, but here it seems to denote a kind of pottage. 
 
 a Laser was the juice of a plant called laserpitium. 
 
68 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 and is especially clever in plying the noisy mor- 
 tar with sweetly smelling plants. He has one 
 fault, that he is no kindly foe to admit to any 
 garden ; for if let in, he will mow down with a 
 sword all things within his reach, and he will 
 never be satisfied with the slaughter simply of 
 mallows. However, in furnishing himself with 
 fuel he will not swindle you. He will burn what- 
 ever comes in his way ; he will cut down and 
 not hesitate to lay hands upon buildings, and to 
 carry off old beams from the household. We 
 present him, then, to you, with this character 
 and these virtues ; and we wish you to regard 
 him not as a servant, but as a son, because you 
 are not ashamed to be the father of very small 
 creatures. I myself would have wished to serve 
 you instead of him ; but if good-will may be 
 taken as in some measure standing for the deed, 
 do you only, in return, take care to remember 
 me amid your breakfasts and delightful dinners, 
 because it is more proper to be your slave, than 
 the master of others. Pray for me. 4 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 TO THE SAME, ON HIS WISDOM AND GENTLENESS. 
 
 The faithful exponent of our holy religion so 
 arranges all things that no place be found in 
 future for transgressors : for what else do you, 
 for instance, promise us by so great sanctity of 
 character, than that, all errors being laid aside, 
 we should lead a blessed life ? In this matter, 
 I see that the greatest praise befits thy virtues, 
 because you have changed even an uninstructed 
 mind by your exhortations, and drawn it over to 
 an excellent condition. But it would not seem 
 so wonderful, if you had simply strengthened 
 educated minds by instilling wisdom into them ; 
 for intelligent men have a sort of relationship to 
 devotion, but rustic natures are not easily won 
 over to the side of severity. 1 Just as those who 
 shape the forms of animals out of stone, under- 
 take a business of a pretty difficult kind, when 
 they strike very hard rocks with their chisels, 
 while those who make their attempts on sub- 
 stances of a softer nature feel that their hands 
 are aided by the ease of fashioning these mate- 
 rials, and it is deemed proper that the labor of 
 the workman, when difficult, should be held in 
 -the highest honor, so, Sir, singular commenda- 
 tion ought so be given to you, because you have 
 made unpolished and rustic minds, set free from 
 the darkness of sin, both to think what is human, 
 and to understand what is divine. 
 
 4 Clericus remarks, " Jocosa. haec est epistola," but the fun is 
 certainly of a very ponderous kind. We are, by no means, sure of 
 the sense in some parts of the letter. 
 
 1 " crudelitati," which, as Clericus remarks, must here be 
 equivalent to severitati. 
 
 No less is Xenocrates, by far the most learned 
 of the philosophers, held in estimation, who suc- 
 ceeded by severe exhortations in having luxury 
 conquered. For when a certain Polemo, heavy 
 with wine, staggered openly out of a nocturnal 
 revel at the time when his hearers were flocking 
 to the school of Xenocrates, he, too, entered the 
 place, and impudently took his seat among the 
 crowd of disciples, in that dress in which he had 
 come forth from the banquet. A chaplet of 
 flowers covered his head, and yet he did not 
 feel ashamed that he would seem unlike all the 
 others, because, in truth, indulgence in a long 
 drinking-bout had upset his brains, which are 
 the seat of reason. As the rest of those there 
 present began to murmur grievously, because so 
 unsuitable a hearer had found his way in among 
 a multitude of men of letters, the master him- 
 self was not in the slightest degree disturbed, 
 but, on the contrary, began to discourse on the 
 science of morals, and the laws of moderation. 
 And so powerful proved the influence of the 
 teacher that the mind of that impudent intruder 
 was persuaded to the love of modesty. First of 
 all, then, Polemo, in utter confusion, took off 
 the chaplet from his head, and professed himself 
 a disciple. And in course of time he con- 
 formed himself so thoroughly to the duties im- 
 plied in dignity, and surrendered himself so 
 entirely to the exhibition of modesty, that a. 
 glorious amendment of character threw a cloak 
 over the habits of his former life. Now we 
 admire this very thing in your instructions, that, 
 without the use of any threats, and without 
 having recourse to terrors of any kind, you have 
 turned infatuated minds to the worship of God ; 
 so that even a badly ordered intellect should 
 believe it preferable 2 to live well and happily 
 with all, rather than to hold unrighteous opinions 
 with a few. 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 TO AN UNKNOWN PERSON, ENTREATING HIM TO 
 DEAL GENTLY WITH HIS BROTHER. 
 
 Although my lord and brother has already 
 begged of your nobleness that you would see 
 that Tutus should be most 1 safe, yet it has been 
 allowed to me to commend the same person in 
 a letter, in order that, by the petition being 
 doubled, he may be held all the safer. For let 
 it be granted that a youthful fault and error of a 
 yet unsettled age has injured him, so as to in- 
 flict a stain on his early years ; still one, who did 
 not yet know what was due to right conduct, 
 
 2 " rectissimum," where rectius might have been expected. 
 1 There is a play upon the words — " Tutum esse tutissimum.' 
 
LETTERS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS (Doubtful). 
 
 69 
 
 has gone wrong almost without contracting 
 blame. For when he came to a right state of 
 mind and to reflection, he understood on better 
 thoughts that a theatrical life was to be con- 
 demned. However, he could not be completely 
 cleared of his fault, unless he should wash its 
 guilt away by the aid 2 of Deity, since, by the 
 remedy obtained through the Catholic religion, 
 changing his views, he has denied himself the 
 enjoyment of a less honorable place, and has 
 withdrawn himself from the eyes of the people. 
 
 OF THE MASTER AS ABOVE. 3 
 
 Since, therefore, both divine and state laws 
 do not permit a faithful body and sanctified 
 minds to exhibit disgraceful though pleasing 
 spectacles, and to set forth vulgar means of en- 
 joyment, especially since an injury seems in 
 some degree to accrue to the chaste dedication 
 of one's self, in case any one who has been re- 
 newed by holy baptism should fall back upon 
 his old licentiousness, it behooves your Excel- 
 lency to show favor to good intentions, so that 
 he who, by the goodness of God, has entered on 
 a pious duty, should not be forced to sink into 
 the pitfall of the theatre. He does not, how- 
 ever, refuse compliance with the judgment of 
 you all, if you enjoin other fitting actions on his 
 part in behalf of the requirements of our com- 
 mon country. 4 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 TO SALVIUS : A COMPLAINT THAT THE COUNTRY 
 PEOPLE WERE HARASSED, AND THEIR POSSES- 
 SIONS PLUNDERED. 
 
 Forensic excitement ought to be at full heat 
 during the time of business in the law-courts ; for 
 it is fitting that the arms of industry, as it strug- 
 gles daily, should display energetic movements. 
 But when loud-toned eloquence has sounded 
 a retreat, and has retired to peaceful groves 
 and pleasant dwelling-places, it is right that one 
 lay aside idle murmurs, and cease to utter 
 ineffectual threats. For we know that palm- 
 bearing steeds, when they have retired from the 
 circus, rest with the utmost quietness in their 
 stables. Neither constant fear nor doubtful 
 palms of victory distress them, but at length, 
 haltered to the peaceful cribs, they now no 
 longer stand in awe of the master urging them 
 on, enjoying sweet oblivion of the restless rivalry 
 
 2 " divinitatis accessu ": the context is almost unintelligible. 
 
 3 This probably denotes that what follows is the substance of 
 the Master's petition. 
 
 1 Clericus, while accepting most of the letters with which we are 
 now dealing, doubts, from the difference of style, whether this is 
 an epistle of Sulpitius. It is certainly very different from his usual 
 clearness and correctness. 
 
 which had prevailed. In like manner, let it 
 delight the boastful soldier after his term of ser- 
 vice is completed, to hang up his trophies, and 
 patiently to bear the burden of age. 
 
 But I do not quite understand why you should 
 take a delight in terrifying miserable husband- 
 men ; and I do not comprehend why you wish 
 to harass my rustics with the fear of want of 
 sustenance ; : as if, indeed, I did not know how 
 to console them, and to deliver them from fear, 
 and to show them that there is not so great a 
 reason to fear as you pretend. I confess that, 
 while we were occupied in the plain, I was often 
 frightened by the arms of your eloquence, but 
 frequently I returned you corresponding blows, 
 as far as I was able. I certainly learned along 
 with you, by what right, and in what order, the 
 husbandmen are demanded back, to whom a 
 legal process is competent, and to whom the 
 issue of a process is not competent. You say 
 that the Volusians wished you brought back, and 
 frequently, in your wrath, you repeat that you 
 will withdraw the country people from my little 
 keep ; and you, the very man, as I hope and 
 desire, bound to me by the ties of old rela- 
 tionship, now rashly threaten that, casting our 
 agreement to the winds, you will lay hold upon 
 my men. I ask of your illustrious knowledge, 
 whether there is one law for advocates, and an- 
 other for private persons, whether one thing is 
 just at Rome, and quite another thing at Mat- 
 arum. 
 
 In the meantime, I do not know that you 
 were ever lord of the Volusian property, since 
 Dionysius is said to have preserved the jight of 
 possession to it, and he never wanted heirs ; 
 who, while he lived, was accustomed to hurl 
 the envenomed jibes of his low language upon 
 a multitude of individuals. 2 There was, at that 
 time, one Porphyrius, the son of Zibberinus, and 
 yet he was not properly named the son of Zib- 
 berinus. He kept hidden, by military service, 
 the question as to his birth, and, that he might 
 dispel the cloud from his forehead, he took 
 part in officious services and willing acts of 
 submission. He was much with me both at 
 home and in the forum, having often employed 
 me as his defender with my father, and as his 
 advocate before the judge. Sometimes I even 
 kept back Dionysius, feeling that he ought not, 
 for the sake of twenty acres to discharge vulgar 
 abuse upon Porphyrius. 
 
 See, here is the reason why thy remarkable 
 prudence threatened my agents, so that, though 
 you are not the owner of the place, you every- 
 where make mention of my husbandmen. 
 But if you give yourself out as the successor 
 of Porphyrius, you must know that the narrow 
 
 1 " exhibitionis formidine " — a strange phrase. 
 
 2 The text is uncertain, and the meaning very obscure. 
 
7o 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 space of twenty acres cannot certainly be man- 
 aged by one cultivator, or, if mindful of your 
 proper dignity and determined to maintain it, 
 you shrink from naming yourself the heir of 
 Porphyrius, it is certain and obvious that he can 
 commence proceedings, 3 to whom the right of 
 doing so belongs, so as to go to law with those 
 who have no property in that land. But if you 
 diligently look into the matter, you will see that 
 the endeavor to recover it most especially de- 
 volves on rne. Wherefore, my much esteemed 
 lord and brother, it behooves you to be at peace, 
 and to return to friendship with me, while you 
 condescend to come to a private conference. 
 Cease, I pray you, to disturb inactive and 
 easily frightened persons, and utter your boastful 
 words at a distance. Believe me, however, that 
 I am delighted with your high spirit, and by no 
 means offended ; for we are neither of a harsh 
 
 3 " posse proponere." 
 
 4 We thoroughly agree with Clericus that this letter is, in style, 
 more alien even than the preceding from the genuine epistles of 
 Sulpitius. It is barbarous as regards composition, and in several 
 places not intelligible. 
 
 disposition, nor destitute of learning, Let Max- 
 imums at least render you gentle. 4 
 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 TO AN UNKNOWN PERSON, BEGGING THE FAVOR 
 OF A LETTER. 
 
 The faith and piety of souls, no doubt, re- 
 main, but this should be made known by the 
 evidence of a letter, in order that an increase of 
 affection may be gained ' by such mutual cour- 
 tesy. For just as a fertile field cannot bring 
 forth abundant fruits, if its cultivation has been 
 neglected, and the good qualities of soil are lost 
 through the indolence of one who rests, instead 
 of working, so I think that the love and kindly 
 feelings of the mind grow feeble, unless those 
 who are absent are visited, as if present, by 
 means of a letter. 1 
 
 1 Most editions add " Deo gratias, Amen." 
 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 o>3<c 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 I address myself to give a condensed account 
 of those things which are set forth in the sacred 
 Scriptures from the beginning of the world, 
 and to tell of them, with distinction of dates, 
 and according to 1 their importance, down to a 
 period within our own remembrance. Many 
 who were anxious to become acquainted with 
 divine things by means of a compendious treat- 
 ise, have eagerly entreated me to undertake this 
 work. I, seeking to carry out their wish, have 
 not spared my labor, and have thus succeeded 
 in comprising in two short books things which 
 elsewhere filled many volumes. At the same 
 time, in studying brevity, I have omitted hardly 
 any of the facts. Moreover, it seemed to me 
 not out of place that, after I had run through 
 the sacred history down to the crucifixion of 
 Christ, and the doings of the Apostles, I should 
 add an account of events which subsequently 
 took place. I am, therefore, to tell of the de- 
 struction of Jerusalem, the persecutions of the 
 Christian people, the times of peace which fol- 
 lowed, and of all things again thrown into con- 
 fusion by the intestine dangers of the churches. 
 But I will not shrink from confessing that, wher- 
 ever reason required, I have made use of pro- 
 fane historians to fix dates and preserve the 
 series of events unbroken, and have taken out 
 of these what was wanting to a complete knowl- 
 edge of the facts, that I might both instruct the 
 ignorant and carry conviction to the learned. 
 Nevertheless, as to those things which I have 
 condensed from the sacred books, I do not wish 
 so to present myself as an author to my readers, 
 that they, neglecting the source from which my 
 materials have been derived, should be satisfied 
 with what I have written. My aim is that one 
 who is already familiar with the original should 
 recognize here what he has read there ; for all 
 the mysteries of divine things cannot be brought 
 out except from the fountain-head itself. I 
 shall now enter upon my narrative. 
 
 1 _" carptim " : such seems to be the meaning of the word here, 
 as Sigonius has noted. His words are " Carptim — profecto innuit 
 se non singulas res eodem modo persecuturum, sed quse memoratu 
 digniores visa? fuerint, selecturum." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The world was created by God nearly six 1 
 thousand years ago, as we shall set forth in the 
 course of this book ; although those who have 
 entered upon and published a calculation of the 
 dates, but little agree among themselves. As, 
 however, this disagreement is due either to the 
 will of God or to the fault of antiquity, it ought 
 not to be a matter of censure. After the forma- 
 tion of the world man was created, the male 
 being named Adam, and the female Eve. Hav- 
 ing been placed in Paradise, they ate of the tree 
 from which they were interdicted, and therefore 
 were cast forth as exiles into our earth. 2 To 
 them were born Cain and Abel ; but Cain, being 
 an impious man, slew his brother. He had a 
 son called Enoch, by whom a city was first 
 built, 8 and was called after the name of its 
 founder. From him Irad, and from him again 
 Maiiiahel was descended. He had a son called 
 Mathusalam, and he, in turn, begat Lamech, by 
 whom a young man is said to have been slain, 
 without, however, the name of the slain man 
 being mentioned — a fact which is thought by the 
 wise to have presaged a future mystery. Adam, 
 then, after the death of his younger son, begat 
 another son called Seth, when he was now two 
 hundred and thirty years old : he lived alto- 
 gether eight hundred and thirty years. Seth 
 begat Enos, Enos Cainan, Cainan Malaleel, Ma- 
 laleel Jared, and Jared Enoch, who on account 
 of his righteousness is said to have been trans- 
 lated by God. His son was called Mathusalam 
 who begat Lamech ; from whom Noah was de- 
 scended, remarkable for his righteousness, and 
 above all other mortals dear and acceptable to 
 God. When by this time the human race had 
 increased to a great multitude, certain angels, 
 whose habitation was in heaven, were captivated 
 by the appearance of some beautiful virgins, and 
 cherished illicit desires after them, so much so, 
 that falling beneath their own proper nature and 
 origin, they left the higher regions of which they 
 
 1 Sulpitius follows the Greek version, which ascribes many more 
 years to the fathers of mankind than does the original Hebrew. 
 
 2 Many of the ancients (among whom our author is apparently 
 to be reckoned) believed that Paradise was situated outside our 
 world altogether. 
 
 3 An obvious mistake. The first city was built, not by Enoch, 
 but by Cain. Gen. iv. 17. 
 
7 2 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 were inhabitants, and allied themselves in earthly 
 marriages. These angels gradually spreading 
 wicked habits, corrupted the human family, and 
 from their alliance giants are said to have 
 sprung, for the mixture with them of beings of 
 a different nature, as a matter of course, gave 
 birth to monsters. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 God being offended by these things, and es- 
 pecially by the wickedness of mankind, which 
 had gone beyond measure, had determined to 
 destroy the whole human race. But he ex- 
 empted Noah, a righteous man and of blameless 
 life, from the destined doom. He being warned 
 by God that a flood was coming upon the earth, 
 built an ark of wood of immense size, and 
 covered it with pitch so as to render it im- 
 pervious to water. He was shut into it along 
 with his wife, and his three sons and his three 
 daughters-in-law. Pairs of birds also and of 
 the different kinds of beasts were likewise re- 
 ceived into it, while all the rest were cut off by a 
 flood. Noah then, when he understood that the 
 violence of the rain had ceased, and that the 
 ark was quietly floating on the deep, thinking 
 (as really was the case) that the waters were 
 decreasing, sent forth first a raven for the pur- 
 pose of enquiring into the matter, and on its 
 not returning, having settled, as I conjecture, on 
 the dead bodies, he then sent forth a dove. 
 It, not finding a place of rest, returned to him, 
 and being again sent out, it brought back an 
 olive leaf, in manifest proof that the tops of the 
 trees were now to be seen. Then being sent 
 forth a third time, it returned no more, from 
 which it was understood that the waters had 
 subsided ; and Noah accordingly went out from 
 the ark. This was done, as I reckon, two thou- 
 sand two hundred * and forty-two years after 
 the beginning of the world. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Then Noah first of all erected an altar to 
 God, and offered sacrifices from among the 
 birds. 1 Immediately afterwards he was blessed 
 by God along with his sons, and received a 
 command that he should not eat blood, or shed 
 the blood of any human being, because Cain, 
 having no such precept, had stained the first 
 age of the world. Accordingly, the sons of 
 Noah were alone left in the then vacant world ; 
 for he had three. Shem, Ham, and Japhet. But 
 Ham, because he had mocked his father when 
 
 1 After the LXX, as usual. 
 
 1 Not of birds only, but other animals also. Gen. viii. 20. 
 
 senseless with wine, incurred his father's curse. 
 His son, Chas by name, begat the giant Neb- 
 roth, 2 by whom the city of Babylon is said to 
 have been built. Many other towns are related 
 to have been founded at that time, which I do 
 not here intend to name one by one. But 
 although the human race was now multiplied, 
 and men occupied different places and islands, 
 nevertheless all made use of one tongue, as long 
 as the multitude, afterwards to be scattered 
 through the whole world, kept itself in one 
 body. These, after the manner of human na- 
 ture, formed the design of obtaining a great 
 name by constructing some great work before 
 they should be separated from one another. 
 They therefore attempted to build a tower 
 which should reach up to heaven. But by the 
 ordination of God, in order that the labors of 
 those engaged in the work might be hindered, 
 they began to speak in a kind of languages very 
 different from their accustomed form of speech, 
 while no one understood the others. This led 
 to their being all the more readily dispersed, 
 because, regarding each other as foreigners, they 
 were easily induced to separate. And the world 
 was so divided to the sons of Noah, that Shem 
 occupied the East, Japhet the West, and Ham 
 the intermediate parts. After this, till the time 
 of Abraham, 3 their genealogy presented nothing 
 very remarkable or worthy of record. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Abraham, whose father was Thara, was born in 
 the one thousand and seventeenth year after the 
 deluge. His wife was called Sara, and his dwel- 
 ling-place was at first in the country 1 of the Chal- 
 daeans. He then dwelt along with his father at 
 Chame. Being at this time spoken to by God, 
 he left his country and his father, and taking 
 with him Lot, the son of his brother, he came 
 into the country of the Canaanites, and settled 
 at a place named Sychem. Ere long, owing to 
 the want of corn, he went into Egypt, and again 
 returned. Lot, owing to the size of the house- 
 hold, parted from his uncle, that he might take 
 advantage of more spacious territories in what 
 was then a vacant region, and settled at Sodom. 
 That town was infamous on account of its in- 
 habitants, males forcing themselves upon males, 
 and it is said on that account to have been hate- 
 ful to God. At that period the kings of the 
 neighboring peoples were in arms, though pre- 
 viously there had been no 2 Avar among man- 
 
 2 This is the Nim rod of the A. V.: he is called Ncbrod by the 
 LXX. We have, for the most part, given the proper names as they 
 appear in the edition of Halm. 
 
 3 Such is the form of the name as given by Halm, though Abram 
 would be expected. 
 
 1 The LXX has ywoa, instead of Ur. 
 
 2 A most improbable statement. 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 73 
 
 kind. But the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah 
 and of the adjacent territories went forth to 
 battle against those who were making war upon 
 the regions round about, and being routed at 
 the first onset, yielded the victory to the oppo- 
 site side. Then Sodom was plundered and 
 made a spoil of by the victorious enemy, while 
 Lot was led into captivity. When Abraham 
 heard of this, he speedily armed his servants, to 
 the number of three hundred and eighteen, and, 
 stripping of their spoils and arms the kings 
 flushed with victory, he put them to flight. 
 Then he was blessed by Melchisedech the priest, 
 and gave him tithes of the spoil. He restored 
 the remainder to those from whom it had been 
 taken. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 At the same time God spoke to Abraham, 
 and promised that his seed was to be multiplied 
 as the sand of the sea ; and that his predicted 
 seed would live in a land not his own, while his 
 posterity would endure slavery in a hostile 
 country for four hundred years, but would after- 
 wards be restored to liberty. Then his name 
 was changed, as well as that of his wife, by the 
 addition of one letter ; so that instead of Abram x 
 he was called Abraham, and, instead of Sara, 
 she was called Sarra. The mystery involved in 
 this is by no means trifling, but it is not the part 
 of this work to treat of it. At the same time, 
 the law of circumcision was enjoined on Abra- 
 ham, and he had by a maid-servant a son called 
 Ishmael. Moreover, when he himself was a 
 hundred years old, and his wife ninety, God 
 promised that they should have a son Isaac, the 
 Lord having come to him along with two angels. 
 Then the angels being sent to Sodom, found Lot 
 sitting in the gate of the city. He supposed 
 them to be human beings, and welcomed them 
 to share in his hospitality, and provided an en- 
 tertainment for them in his house, but the wicked 
 youth of the town demanded the new arrivals 
 for impure purposes. Lot offered them his 
 daughters in place of his guests, but they did 
 not accept the offer, having a desire rather for 
 things forbidden, and then Lot himself was laid 
 hold of with vile designs. The angels, however, 
 speedily rescued him from danger, by causing 
 blindness to fall upon the eyes of these unchaste 
 sinners. Then Lot, being informed by his guests 
 that the town was to be destroyed, went away 
 from it with his wife and daughters ; but they 
 were commanded not to look back upon it. 
 His wife, however, not obeying this precept (in 
 accordance with that evil tendency of human 
 nature which renders it difficult to abstain from 
 
 1 In the Greek of the LXX. the name appears as Abraat 
 that, as our author says, there is only a change of one letter. 
 
 things forbidden), turned back her eyes, and is 
 said to have been at once changed into a monu- 
 ment. As for Sodom, it was burned to ashes 
 by fire from heaven. And the daughters of 
 Lot, imagining that the whole human race had 
 perished, sought a union with their father while 
 he was intoxicated, and hence sprung the race 
 of Moab and Ammon. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Almost at the same time, when Abraham was 
 now a hundred years old, his son Isaac was born. 
 Then Sara expelled the maid-servant by whom 
 Abraham had had a son ; and she is said to 
 have dwelt in the desert along with her son, and 
 defended by the help of God. Not long after 
 this, God tried the faith of Abraham, and required 
 that his son Isaac should be sacrificed to him 
 by his father. Abraham did not hesitate to 
 offer him, and had already laid the lad upon 
 the altar, and was drawing the sword to slay 
 him, when a voice came from heaven command- 
 ing him to spare the young man ; and a ram 
 was found at hand to be for a victim. When 
 the sacrifice was offered, God spoke to Abraham, 
 and promised him those things which he had 
 already said he would bestow. But Sara died 
 in her one hundred and twenty-seventh year, 
 and her body was, through the care of her hus- 
 band, buried in Hebron, a town of the Canaanites, 
 for Abraham was staying in that place. Then 
 Abraham, seeing that his son Isaac was now of 
 youthful * age, for he was, in fact, in his fortieth 
 year, enjoined his servant to seek a wife for 
 him, but only from that tribe and territory from 
 which he himself was known to be descended. 
 He was instructed, however, on finding the girl, 
 to bring her into the land of the Canaanites, and 
 not to suppose that Isaac would return into the 
 country of his father for the purpose of obtaining 
 a wife. In order that the servant might carry 
 out those instructions zealously, Abraham ad- 
 ministered an oath to him, while his hand rested 
 on the thigh of his master. The servant accord- 
 ingly set out for Mesopotamia, and came to the 
 town of Nachor, the brother of Abraham. He 
 entered into the house of Bathuel, the Syrian, 
 son of Nachor ; and having seen Rebecca, a 
 beautiful virgin, the daughter of Nachor, he 
 asked for her, and brought her to his master. 
 After this, Abraham took a wife named Kethurah, 
 who is called in the Chronicles his concubine, 
 and begat children by her. But he left his 
 possessions to Isaac, the son of Sara, while, at 
 the same time, he distributed gifts to those 
 whom he had begotten by his concubines ; and 
 thus they were separated from Isaac. Abraham 
 
 1 "juvenilis Ktatis": the meaning is that he had ceased to be 
 mere adolesccns, and had reached she flower of his age. 
 
74 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 died after a life of a hundred and seventy-five 
 years ; and his body was laid in the tomb of 
 Sara his wife. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Now, Rebecca, having long been barren, at 
 length, through the unceasing prayers of her 
 husband to the Lord, brought forth twins about 
 twenty years after the time of her marriage. 
 These are said to have often leaped 1 in the 
 womb of their mother ; and it was announced 
 by the answer of the Lord on this subject, that 
 two peoples were foretold in these children, and 
 that the elder would, in rank, be inferior to the 
 younger. Well, the first that was born, bristling 
 over with hair, was called Esau, while Jacob was 
 the name given to the younger. At that time, a 
 grievous famine had taken place. Under the 
 pressure of this necessity, Isaac went to Gerar, 
 to King Abimelech, having been warned by the 
 Lord not to go down into Egypt. There he is 
 promised the possession of the whole land, and 
 is blessed, and having been greatly increased 
 in cattle and every kind of substance, he is, 
 under the influence of envy, driven out by the 
 inhabitants. Thus expelled from that region, he 
 sojourned by the well, known as " the well 2 of 
 the oath." By and by, being advanced in years, 
 and his eyesight being gone, as he made ready 
 to bless his son Esau, Jacob through the coun- 
 sel of his mother, Rebecca, presented himself 
 to be blessed in the place of his brother. Thus 
 Jacob is set before his brother as the one to be 
 honored by the princes and the peoples. Esau, 
 enraged by these occurrences, plotted the death 
 of his brother. Jacob, owing to the fear thus 
 excited, and by the advice of his mother, fled 
 into Mesopotamia, having been urged by his 
 father to take a wife of the house of Laban, 
 Rebecca's brother: so great was their, care, 
 while they dwelt in a strange country, that their 
 children should marry within their own kindred. 
 Thus Jacob, setting out for Mesopotamia, is said 
 in sleep to have had a vision of the Lord ; and 
 on that account regarding the place of his dream 
 as sacred, he took a stone from it ; and he 
 vowed that, if he returned in prosperity, the 
 name 3 of the pillar should be the " house of the 
 Lord," and that he would devote to God the 
 tithes of all the possessions he had gained. 
 Then he betook himself to Laban, his mother's 
 brother, and was kindly received by him to 
 share in his hospitality as the acknowledged son 
 of his sister. 
 
 i So in LXX. 
 
 2 This is the meaning of the Hebrew word, Brersheha. 
 
 3 " Titulum sibi domus Dei futurum": the rendering of the 
 Hebrew original is here obviously faulty, and the words, as they 
 stand, are scarcely intelligible. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Laban had two daughters, Leah and Rachel ; 
 but Leah had tender eyes, while Rachel is said 
 to have been beautiful. Jacob, captivated by 
 her beauty, burned with love for the virgin, and, 
 asking her in marriage from the father, gave 
 himself up to a servitude of seven years. But 
 when the time was fulfilled, Leah was foisted 
 upon him, and he was subjected to another 
 servitude of seven years, after which Rachel was 
 given him. But we are told that she was long 
 barren, while Leah was fruitful. Of the sons 
 whom Jacob had by Leah, the following are the 
 names : Reuben, Symeon, Levi, Judah, Issachar, 
 Zebulon, and a daughter Dinah ; while there 
 were born to him by the handmaid of Leah, 
 Gad and Asher, and by the handmaid of Rachel, 
 Dan and Naphtali. But Rachel, after she had 
 despaired of offspring, bare Joseph. Then 
 Jacob, being desirous of returning to his father, 
 when Laban his father-in-law had given him a 
 portion of the flock as a reward for his service, and 
 Jacob the son-in-law, thinking him not to be act- 
 ing justly in that matter, while he [also] suspected 
 deceit on his part, privately departed about the 
 thirtieth year after his arrival. Rachel, without 
 the knowledge of her husband, stole the idols : of 
 her father, and on account of this injury Laban 
 followed his son-in-law, but not finding his idols, 
 returned, after being reconciled, having straitly 
 charged his son-in-law not to take other wives 
 in addition to his daughters. Then Jacob, going 
 on his way, is said to have had a vision of angels 
 and of the army 2 of the Lord. But, as he 
 directed his journey past the region of Edom, 
 which his brother Esau inhabited, suspecting 
 the temper of Esau, he first sent messengers and 
 gifts to try him. Then he went to meet his 
 brother, but Jacob took care not to trust him 
 beyond what he could help. On the day before 
 the brothers were to meet, God, taking a human 
 form, is said to have wrestled with Jacob. And 
 when he had prevailed with God, still he was 
 not ignorant that his adversary was no mere 
 mortal ; and therefore begged to be blessed by 
 him. Then his name was changed by God, so 
 that from Jacob he was called Israel. But 
 when he, in turn, inquired of God the name of 
 God, he was told that that should not be asked 
 after because it was wonderful. 3 Moreover, from 
 that wrestling, the breadth 4 of Jacob's thigh 
 shrank. 
 
 1 eiSwAo. is the Septuagint rendering of the Hebrew Terafihim. 
 Perhaps the original word should simply be transliterated into 
 English as has been done in the Revised Version. 
 
 - The rendering of the LXX. 
 
 3 " Admirabile." 
 
 4 " Latitudo": Vorstius says this refers to the broad bone, or 
 broad nerve of the thigh. 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 75 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Israel, therefore, avoiding the house of his 
 brother, sent forward his company to Salem, a 
 town of the Shechemites, and there he pitched 
 his tent on a spot which he had purchased. 
 Emor, a Chorrsean prince, was the ruler of that 
 town. His son Sychem defiled Dinah, the 
 daughter of Jacob by Leah. Symeon and Levi, 
 the brothers of Dinah, discovering this, cut off 
 by a stratagem all those of the male sex in the 
 town, and thus terribly avenged the injury done 
 to their sister. The town was plundered by the 
 sons of Jacob, and all the spoil carried off. 
 Jacob is said to have been much displeased with 
 these proceedings. Soon after being instructed 
 by God, he went to Bethel, and there erected 
 an altar to God. Then he fixed his tent in a 
 part of the territory belonging to the tower 1 
 Gader. Rachel died in childbirth : the boy 
 she bore was called Benjamin. Israel died at 
 the age of one hundred and eighty years. Now, 
 Esau was mighty in wealth, and had taken to 
 himself wives of the nation of the Canaanites. 
 I do not think that, in a work so concise as the 
 present, I am called upon to mention his de- 
 scendants, and, if any one is curious on the 
 subject, he may turn to the original. After the 
 death of his father, Jacob stayed on in the place 
 where Isaac had lived. His other sons occa- 
 sionally left him along with the flocks, for the 
 sake of pasturage, but Joseph and the little 
 Benjamin remained at home. Joseph was much 
 beloved by his father, and on that account was 
 hated by his brethren. There was this further 
 cause for their aversion, that by frequent dreams 
 of his it seemed to be indicated that he would 
 be greater than all of them. Accordingly, 
 having been sent by his father to inspect the 
 flocks and pay a visit to his brothers, there 
 seemed to them a fitting opportunity for doing 
 him harm. For, on seeing their brother, they 
 took counsel to slay him. But Reuben, whose 
 mind shuddered at the contemplation of such a 
 crime, opposing their plan, Joseph was let down 
 into a well. 2 Afterwards, by the persuasions of 
 Judah, they were brought to milder measures, 
 and sold him to merchants, who were on their 
 way to Egypt. And by them he was delivered 
 to Petifra, a governor of Pharaoh. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 About this same time, Judah, the son of Ja- 
 cob, took in marriage Sava, 1 a woman of Canaan. 
 By her he had three sons, — Her, Onan, and 
 
 1 "In parte turris Gadir": this is a strange rendering of the 
 Hebrew. The LXX has "beyond the tower Gader"; while the 
 Revised English Version has " beyond the tower of Eder." 
 
 2 " Lacum." 
 
 1 Called Shuah in A. V. 
 
 Sela. Her was allied by concubinage 2 to 
 Thamar. On his death, Onan took his brother's 
 wife ; and he is related to have been destroyed 
 by God, because he spilled his seed upon the 
 earth. Then Thamar, assuming the garb of a 
 harlot, united with her brother-in-law, and bore 
 him two sons. But when she brought them 
 forth, there was this remarkable fact, that, when 
 on one of the boys being born, the midwife had 
 bound his hand with a scarlet thread to indicate 
 which of them was born first, he, drawing back 
 again into the womb of his mother, was born 3 
 the last boy of the two. The names of Fares 
 and Zarah were given to the children. But 
 Joseph, being kindly treated by the royal gov- 
 ernor who had obtained him for a sum of money, 
 and having been made manager of his house 
 and family, had drawn the eyes of his master's 
 wife upon himself through his remarkable beauty. 
 And as she was madly laboring under that base 
 passion, she made advances to him oftener than 
 once, and when he would not yield to her desires, 
 she disgraced him by the imputation of a false 
 crime, and complained to her husband that he 
 had made an attempt upon her virtue. Accord- 
 ingly, Joseph was thrown into prison. There 
 were ju the same place of confinement two of 
 the king's servants, who made known their 
 dreams to Joseph, and he, interpreting these as 
 bearing upon the future, declared that one of 
 them would be put to death, and the other would 
 be pardoned. And so it came to pass. Well, 
 after the lapse of two years, the king also had a 
 dream. And when this could not be explained 
 by the wise men among the Egyptians, that 
 servant of the king who was liberated from 
 prison informs the king that Joseph was a won- 
 derful interpreter of dreams. Accordingly, 
 Joseph was brought out of prison, and interpreted 
 to the king his dream, to this effect, that, for 
 the next seven years, there would be the greatest 
 fertility in the land ; but in those that followed, 
 famine. The king being alarmed by this terror, 
 and seeing that there was a divine spirit in 
 Joseph, set him over the department of food- 
 supply, and made him equal with himself in the 
 government. Then Joseph, while corn was 
 abundant throughout all Egypt, gathered to- 
 gether an immense quantity, and, by increasing 
 the number of granaries, took measures against 
 the future famine. At that time, the hope and 
 safety of Egypt were placed in him alone. About 
 the same period, Aseneh bore him two sons, 
 Manasseh and Ephraim. He himself, when he 
 received the chief power from the king, was 
 thirty years old ; for he was sold by his brothers 
 when he was seventeen years of age. 
 
 2 Or perhaps, rather, marriage of a sort, as appears from what 
 follows. 
 
 3 A different reading gives, " was born on the following day." 
 
7 6 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 In the mean time, affairs having been well 
 settled in Egypt to meet the famine, a grievous 
 want of corn began to distress the world. Jacob, 
 constrained by this necessity, sent his sons into 
 Egypt, keeping only Benjamin with himself at 
 home. Joseph, then, being at the head of 
 affairs, and having complete power over the 
 corn-supplies, his brothers come to him, and 
 pay the same honor to him as to a king. He, 
 when he saw them, craftily concealed his recog- 
 nition of them, and accused them of having 
 come as enemies, subtly to spy out the land. 
 But he was annoyed that he did not see among 
 them his brother Benjamin. Matters, then, are 
 brought to this point, that they promised he 
 should be present, specially that he might be 
 asked whether they had entered Egypt for the 
 purpose of spying out the land. In order to 
 secure the fulfillment of this promise, Symeon 
 was retained as hostage, while to them corn was 
 given freely. Accordingly, they returned, bring- 
 ing Benjamin with them as had been arranged. 
 Then Joseph made himself known to his brothers, 
 to the shame of these evil-deservers. Thus, he 
 sent them home again, laden with corn, and 
 presented with many gifts, forewarning them 
 that there were still five years of famine to come, 
 and advising them to come down with their 
 father, their children, and their whole connec- 
 tions to Egypt. Sd Jacob went down to Egypt, 
 to the great joy of the Egyptians and of the 
 king himself, while he was tenderly welcomed 
 by his son. That took place in the hundred 
 and thirtieth year of the life of Jacob, and one 
 thousand three hundred and sixty years r after 
 the deluge. But from the time when Abraham 
 settled in the land of the Canaanites, to that 
 when Jacob entered Egypt, there are to be 
 reckoned two hundred and fifteen years. After 
 this, Jacob, in the seventeenth year of his resi- 
 dence in Egypt, suffering severely from illness, 
 entreated Joseph to see his remains placed in 
 the tomb. Then Joseph presented his sons to 
 be blessed ; 2 and when this had been done, but 
 so that he set the younger before the elder as to 
 the value of the blessing given, Jacob then blessed 
 all his sons in order. He died at the age of 
 one hundred and forty-seven years. His funeral 
 was of a most imposing character, and Joseph 
 laid his remains in the tomb of his fathers. He 
 continued to treat his brothers with kindness, 
 although, after the death of their father, they 
 felt alarmed from a consciousness of the wrong 
 they had done. Joseph himself died in his one 
 hundred and tenth year. 
 
 1 The chronology of the LXX is, as usual, here followed. 
 
 2 _ The original is, " quibus benedictis, cum tamen benedictionis 
 merito majori minorem praeposuisset, filios omnes benedictione lus- 
 travit." 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 It is almost incredible to relate how the He- 
 brews who had come down into Egypt so soon 
 increased in numbers, and filled Egypt with 
 their numerous descendants. But on the death 
 of the king, who kindly cherished them on 
 account of the services of Joseph, they were 
 kept down by the government of the succeeding 
 kings. For both the heavy labor of building 
 cities was laid upon them, and because their 
 abounding numbers were now feared, lest some 
 day they should secure their independence by 
 arms, they were compelled by a royal edict to 
 drown their newly-born male children. And no 
 permission was granted to evade this cruel order. 
 Well, at that time, the daughter of Pharaoh 
 found an infant in the river, and caused it to be 
 brought up as her own son, giving the boy the 
 name of Moses. This Moses, when he had come 
 to manhood, saw a Hebrew being assaulted by 
 an Egyptian ; and, filled with sorrow at the 
 sight, he delivered his brother from injury, and 
 killed the Egyptian with a stone. Soon after, 
 fearing punishment on account of what he had 
 done, he fled into the land of Midian, and, 
 taking up his abode with Jothor the priest of 
 that district, he received his daughter Sepphora 
 in marriage, who bore him two sons, Gersam 
 and Eliezer. At this epoch lived Job, who had 
 acquired both the knowledge of God and all 
 righteousness simply from the law 1 of nature. 
 He was exceedingly rich, and on that account 
 all the more illustrious, because he was neither 
 corrupted by that wealth while it remained entire, 
 nor perverted by it when it was lost. For, 
 when, through the agency of the devil, he was 
 stripped of his goods, deprived of his children, 
 and finally covered in his own person with ter- 
 rible boils, he could not be broken down, so as, 
 from impatience of his sufferings, in any way, to 
 commit sin. At length he obtained the reward 
 of the divine approval, and being restored to 
 health, he got back doubled all that he had lost. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 But the Hebrews, oppressed by the multiplied 
 evils of slavery, directed their complaints to 
 heaven, and cherished the hope of assistance 
 from God. Then, as Moses was feeding his 
 sheep, suddenly a bush appeared to him burning, 
 but, what was surprising, the flames did it no 
 harm. Astonished at such an extraordinary 
 sight, he drew nearer to the bush, and immedi- 
 
 1 This somewhat remarkable statement is supported by the text 
 of Halm, who reads, " lege naturae." But other editions have 
 " legem naturae," and the meaning will then be " who had learned 
 the law of nature, and the knowledge of God," &c 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 77 
 
 ately God spoke to him in words to this effect, 
 that he was the Lord of Abraham, Isaac, and 
 Jacob, and that he desired that their descendants, 
 who were kept down under the tyranny of the 
 Egyptians, should be delivered from their suffer- 
 ings, and that he, therefore, should go to the 
 king of Egypt, and present himself as a leader 
 for restoring them to liberty. When he hesitated, 
 God strengthened him with power, and imparted 
 to him the gift of working miracles. Thus 
 Moses, going into Egypt, after he had first 
 performed miracles in the presence of his own 
 people, and having associated his brother Aaron 
 with him, went to the king, declaring that he had 
 been sent by God, and that he now told him in 
 the words of God to let the Hebrew people go. 
 But the king, affirming that he did not know 
 the Lord, refused to obey the command ad- 
 dressed to him. And when Moses, in proof that 
 the orders he issued were from God, changed 
 his rod into a serpent, 1 and soon after converted 
 all the water into blood, while he filled the 
 whole land with frogs, as the Chaldaeans were 
 doing similar things, the king declared that the 
 wonders performed by Moses were simply due 
 to the arts of magic, and not to the power of 
 God, until the land was covered with stinging 
 insects brought over it, when the Chaldseans 
 confessed that this was done by the divine 
 majesty. Then the king, constrained by his 
 sufferings, called to him Moses and Aaron, and 
 gave the people liberty to depart, provided that 
 the calamity brought upon the kingdom were 
 removed. But, after the suffering was put an 
 end to, his mind, having no control over itself, 
 returned to its former state, and did not allow 
 the Israelites to depart, as had been agreed 
 upon. Finally, however, he was broken down 
 and conquered by the ten plagues which were 
 sent upon his person and his kingdom. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 But on the day : before the people went out 
 of Egypt, being as yet unacquainted with dates, 
 they were instructed by the command of God 
 to acknowledge that month which was then 
 passing by as the first of all months ; and were 
 told that the sacrifice of the day was to be 
 solemnly and regularly offered in coming ages, 
 so that, on the fourteenth day of the month, a 
 la|^b without blemish, one year old, should be 
 slain as a victim, and that the door-posts should 
 be sprinkled with its blood ; that its flesh was 
 wholly to be eaten, but not a bone of it was to 
 be broken ; that they should abstain from what 
 was leavened for seven days, using only un- 
 
 1 " Draconem." 
 
 1 Such is Halm's reading; another is simply "before." 
 
 leavened bread ; and that they should hand 
 down the observance to their posterity. Thus 
 the people went forth rich, both by their own 
 wealth, and still more by the spoils of Egypt. 
 Their number had grown from those seventy- 
 five 2 Hebrews, who had first gone down into 
 Egypt, to six hundred thousand men. Now, 
 there had elapsed from the time when Abraham 
 first reached the land of the Canaanites a period 
 of four hundred and thirty years, but from the 
 deluge a period of five hundred and seventy- 
 five 3 years. Well, as they went forth in haste, 
 a pillar of cloud by day, and a pillar of fire by 
 night, marched before them. But since, owing 
 to the fact that the gulf of the Red Sea lay 
 between, the way led by 4 the land of the Philis- 
 tines, in order that an opportunity might not 
 afterwards be offered to the Hebrews, shrinking 
 from the desert, of returning into Egypt by a 
 well-known road through a continuous land- 
 journey, by the command of God they turned 
 aside, and journeyed towards the Red Sea, 
 where they stopped and pitched their camp. 
 When it was announced to the king that the 
 Hebrew people, through mistaking the road, 
 had come to have the sea right before them, 
 and that they had no means of escape since the 
 deep would prevent them, vexed and furious 
 that so many thousand men should escape from 
 his kingdom and power, he hastily led forth his 
 army. And already the arms, and standards, 
 and the lines drawn up in the widespreading plains 
 were visible, when, as the Hebrews were in a 
 state of terror, and gazing up to heaven, Moses 
 being so instructed by God, struck the sea with 
 his rod, and divided it. Thus a road was 
 opened to the people as on firm land, the waters 
 giving way on both sides. Nor did the king of 
 Egypt hesitate to follow the Israelites going 
 forward, for he entered the sea where it had 
 opened ; and, as the waters speedily came 
 together again, he, with all his host, was de- 
 stroyed. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Then Moses, exulting in the safety of his own 
 people, and in the destruction of the enemy, by 
 such a miracle, 1 sang a song of praise to God. 
 and the whole multitude, both of males and 
 females, took part in it. But, after they had 
 entered the desert, and advanced a journey of 
 three days, want of water distressed them ; and, 
 when it was found, it proved of no use on 
 
 " The Hebrew text has " seventy," but our author, as usual, 
 follows the LXX. 
 
 3 Again after the LXX. 
 
 4 The text here is uncertain and obscure. 
 1 " Virtute." 
 
78 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 account of its bitterness. And then for the first 
 time the stubbornness of the impatient people 
 showed itself, and burst forth against Moses ; 
 when, as instructed by God, he cast some wood 
 into the waters, and its power was such that it 
 rendered the taste of the fluid sweet. Thence 
 advancing, the multitude found at Elim twelve 
 fountains of waters, with seventy palm-trees, and 
 there they encamped. Again the people, com- 
 plaining of famine, heaped reproaches upon 
 Moses, and longed for the slavery of Egypt, 
 accompanied as it was with abundance to please 
 their appetite, when a flock of quails was di- 
 vinely sent, and filled the camp. Besides, on 
 the following day, those who had gone forth 
 from the camp perceived that the ground was 
 covered with a sort of pods, 2 the appearance of 
 which was like a coriander-seed of snowy white- 
 ness, as we often see the earth in the winter 
 months covered with the hoar-frost that has 
 been spread over it. Then the people were 
 informed, through Moses, that this bread had 
 been sent them by the gift of God ; that every 
 one should gather in vessels prepared for the 
 purpose only so much of it as would be sufficient 
 for each, according to their number, during one 
 day ; but that on the sixth day they should 
 gather double, because it was not lawful to 
 collect it on the Sabbath. The people, however, 
 as they were never prone to obedience, did not, 
 in accordance with human nature, restrain their 
 desires, providing in their stores not merely for 
 one, but also for the following day. But that 
 which was thus laid up swarmed with worms, 
 while its fetid odor was dreadful, yet that which 
 was laid up on the sixth day with a view to the 
 Sabbath remained quite untainted. The He- 
 brews made use of this food for forty years ; its 
 taste was very like that of honey ; and its name 
 is handed down as being manna. Moreover, 
 as an abiding witness to the divine gift, Moses 
 is related to have laid up a full gomer of it in a 
 golden vessel. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The people going on from thence, and being 
 again tried with want of water, hardly restrained 
 themselves from destroying their leader. Then 
 Moses, under divine orders, striking with his 
 rod the rock at the place which is called Horeb, 
 brought forth an abundant supply of water. 
 But when they came to Raphidin, the Amalekites 
 destroyed numbers of the people by their 
 attacks. Moses, leading out his men to battle, 
 placed Joshua at the head of the army ; and, in 
 
 2 This is a somewhat strange description of the manna. Hornius 
 remarks upon it that there may be a reference to the dew in which 
 the Hebrews believed the manna to have been enveloped, but that 
 seems a far-fetched explanation. 
 
 company with Aaron and Hur, was himself simply 
 to be a spectator of the fight, while, at the same 
 time, for the purpose of praying to the Lord, he 
 went up to the top of a mountain. But when 
 the armies had met with doubtful issue, through 
 the prayers of Moses, Joshua slew the enemy 
 until nightfall. At the same time, Jothor, Moses' 
 father-in-law, with his daughter Sepphora (who, 
 having been married to Moses, had remained at 
 home when her husband went into Egypt), and 
 his children, having learned the things which 
 were being done by Moses, came to him. By 
 his advice Moses divided the people into various 
 ranks ; and, setting tribunes, centurions', and 
 decurions x over them, thus furnished a mode of 
 discipline and order to posterity. Jothor then 
 returned to his own country, while the Israelites 
 came on to Mount Sinai. There Moses was 
 admonished by the Lord that the people should 
 be sanctified, since they were to hearken to the 
 words of God ; and that was carefully seen to. 
 But when God rested on the mountain, the air 
 was shaken with the loud sounds of trumpets, 
 and thick clouds rolled around with frequent 
 flashes of lightning. But Moses and Aaron were 
 on the top of the mountain beside the Lord, 
 while the people stood around the bottom of 
 the mountain. Thus a law was given, manifold 
 and full of the words of God, and frequently 
 repeated ; but if any one is desirous of knowing 
 particulars regarding it, he must consult the 
 original, as we here only briefly touch upon 
 it. "There shall not be," said God, " any 
 strange gods among you, but ye shall worship 
 me alone ; thou shalt not make to thee any idol ; 
 thou shalt not take the name of thy God in vain ; 
 thou shalt do no work upon the Sabbath ; honor 
 thy father and thy mother ; thou shalt not kill ; 
 thou shalt not commit adultery ; thou shalt not 
 steal ; thou shalt not bear false witness against 
 thy neighbor ; thou shalt not covet anything 
 belonging to thy neighbor." 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 These things being said by God, while the 
 trumpets uttered their voices, the lamps blazed, 
 and smoke covered the mountain, the people 
 trembled from terror ; and begged of Moses 
 that God should speak to him alone, and that 
 he would report to the people what he thus 
 heard. Now, the commandments of God $o 
 Moses were as follows : A Hebrew servant pur- 
 chased with money shall serve six years, and 
 after that he shall be free ; but his ear shall be 
 bored, should he willingly remain in slavery. 
 Whosoever slays a man shall be put to death ; 
 
 1 These words denote what is expressed in the Greei 
 thousands, of hundreds, and of tens." 
 
 rulers of 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 79 
 
 he who does so unwittingly shall in due form be 
 banished. Whosoever shall beat his father or 
 his mother, and utter evil sayings against them, 
 shall suffer death. If any one sell a Hebrew 
 who has been stolen, he shall be put to death. 
 If any one strike his own man-servant or maid- 
 servant, and he or she die of the blow, he shall be 
 put on his trial for doing so. If any one cause a 
 woman 1 to miscarry, he shall be put to death. If 
 any one knock out the eye or the tooth of his 
 servant, that servant shall receive his liberty in due 
 form. If a bull kill a man, it shall be stoned ; and 
 if its master, knowing the vicious temper of the 
 animal, did not take precautions in connection 
 with it, he also shall be stoned, or shall redeem 
 himself by a price as large as the accuser shall 
 demand. If a bull kill a servant, money to the 
 amount of thirty double- drachmas shall be paid 
 to his master. If any one does not cover up a 
 pit which has been dug, and an animal fall into 
 that pit, he shall pay the price of the animal to 
 its master. If a bull kill the bull of another 
 man, the animal shall be sold, and the two 
 masters shall share the price ; they shall also 
 divide the animal that has been killed. But if 
 a master, knowing the vicious temper of the 
 bull, did not take precautions in connection 
 with it, he shall give up the bull. If any one 
 steals a calf, he shall restore five ; if he steals a 
 sheep, the penalty shall be fourfold ; and if the 
 animals be found alive in the hands of him who 
 drove them off, he shall restore double. It 
 shall be lawful to kill a thief by night, but not 
 one by day. If the cattle of any one has eaten 
 up the corn of another, the master of the cattle 
 shall restore what has been destroyed. If a 
 deposit disappears, he, in whose hands it was 
 deposited, shall swear that he has not been 
 guilty of any deceit. A thief who is caught 
 shall pay double. An animal given in trust, if 
 devoured by a wild beast, shall not be made 
 good. If any one defile a virgin not yet be- 
 trothed, he shall bestow a dowry on the girl, 
 and thus take her to wife ; but, if the father of 
 the girl shall refuse to give her in marriage, then 
 the ravisher shall give her a dowry. If any one 
 shall join himself to a beast, he shall be put to 
 death. Let him who sacrifices to idols perish. 
 The widow and orphan are not to be oppressed ; 
 the poor debtor is not to be hardly treated, nor 
 is usury to be demanded : the garment of the 
 poor is not to be taken as a pledge. A ruler of 
 the people is not to be evil spoken of. All the 
 first-born are to be offered to God. Flesh 
 taken from a wild beast is not to be eaten. 
 Agreements to bear false witness, or for any evil 
 purpose, are not to be made. Thou shalt not 
 pass by any animal of thine enemy which has 
 
 1 Some words seem to have been lost here. 
 
 strayed, but shalt bring it back. If you find an 
 animal of your enemy fallen down under a 
 burden, it will be your duty to raise it up. Thou 
 shalt not slay the innocent and the righteous. 
 Thou shalt not justify the wicked for rewards. 
 Gifts are not to be accepted. A stranger is to 
 be kindly treated. Work is to be done on six 
 days : rest is to be taken on the Sabbath. The 
 crops of the seventh year are not to be reaped, 
 but are to be left for the poor and needy. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Moses reported these words of God to the 
 people, and placed an altar of twelve stones at 
 the foot of the mountain. Then he again as- 
 cended the mountain on which the Lord had 
 taken his place, bringing with him Aaron, Nabad, 
 and seventy of the elders. But these were not 
 able to look upon the Lord ; nevertheless, they 
 saw the place 1 in which God stood, whose form 
 is related to have been wonderful, and his splen- 
 dor glorious. Now, Moses, having been called 
 by God, entered the inner cloud which had 
 gathered round about God, and is related to 
 have remained there forty days and forty nights. 
 During this time, he was taught in the words 
 of God about building the tabernacle and the 
 ark, and about the ritual of sacrifice — things 
 which I, as they were obviously told at great 
 length, have not thought proper to be in- 
 serted in such a concise work as the present. 
 But as Moses stayed away a long time, since he 
 spent forty days in the presence of the Lord, 
 the people, despairing of his return, compelled 
 Aaron to construct images. Then, out of metals 
 which had been melted together, there came 
 forth the head of a calf. The people, unmindful 
 of God, having offered sacrifices to this, and 
 given themselves up to eating and drinking, 
 God, looking upon these things, would in his 
 righteous indignation, have destroyed the wicked 
 people, had he not been entreated by Moses 
 not to do so. But Moses, on his return, bringing 
 down the two tables of stone which had been 
 written by the hand of God, and seeing the 
 people devoted to luxury and sacrilege, broke 
 the tables, thinking the nation unworthy of having 
 the law of the Lord delivered to them. He 
 then called around himself the Levites, who had 
 been assailed with many insults, and commanded 
 them to smite the people with drawn swords. 
 In this onset twenty-three thousand 2 men are 
 said to have been slain. Then Moses set up 
 the tabernacle outside the camp ; and, as often 
 
 1 The Hebrew text is here different. 
 
 2 Curiously enough, our author here reads, " twenty-three thou- 
 sand," in opposition alike to the Greek and Hebrew text, both of 
 which have " three thousand." 
 
So 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 as he entered it, the pillar of cloud was observed 
 to stand before the door ; and God spoke, face 
 to face, with Moses. But when Moses en- 
 treated that he might see the Lord in his pe- 
 culiar majesty, he was answered that the form 
 of God could not be seen by mortal eyes ; yet 
 it was allowed to see his back parts ; and the 
 tables which Moses had formerly broken were 
 constructed afresh. And Moses is reported, 
 during this conference with God, to have stayed 
 forty days with the Lord. Moreover, when he 
 descended from the mountain, bringing with 
 him the tables, his face shone with so great 
 brightness, that the people were not able to look 
 upon him. It was arranged, therefore, that 
 when he was to make known to them the com- 
 mands of God, he covered his face with a veil, 
 and thus spoke to the people in the words of 
 God. In this part of the history an account is 
 given 3 of the tabernacle, and the building of its 
 inner parts. Which having been finished, the 
 cloud descended from above, and so over- 
 shadowed the tabernacle that it prevented Moses 
 himself from entering. These are the principal 
 matters contained in the two books of Genesis 
 and Exodus. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Then follows the book of Leviticus, in which 
 the precepts bearing upon sacrifice are set forth ; 
 commandments also are added to the law 
 formerly given ; and almost the whole is full of 
 instructions connected with the priests. If any 
 one wishes to become acquainted with these, he 
 will obtain fuller information from that source. 
 For we, keeping within the limits of the work 
 undertaken, touch upon the history only. The 
 tribe of Levi, then, being set apart for the priest- 
 hood, the rest of the tribes were numbered, and 
 were found to amount to six hundred and three 
 thousand five hundred persons. 1 When, there- 
 fore, the people made use of the manna for 
 food, as we have related above, even amid so 
 many and so great kindnesses of God, showing 
 themselves, as ever, ungrateful, they longed after 
 the worthless viands to which they had been 
 accustomed in Egypt. Then the Lord brought 
 an enormous supply of quails into the camp ; 
 and as they were eagerly tearing these to pieces, 
 as soon as their lips touched the flesh, they 
 perished. There was indeed on that day a great 
 destruction in the camp, so that twenty and 
 three thousand men are said to have died. 
 Thus the people were punished by the very food 
 which they desired. Thence the company went 
 forward, and came to Faran ; and looses was 
 
 3 Halm here reads " referetur," but " refertur," another reading, 
 seems preferable. 
 
 1 The text here varies: we have followed Halm. 
 
 instructed by the Lord that the land was now 
 near, the possession of which the Lord had 
 promised them. Spies, accordingly, having been 
 sent into it, they report that it was a land blessed 
 with all abundance, but that the nations were 
 powerful, and the towns fortified with immense 
 walls. When this was made known to the people, 
 fear seized the minds of all ; and to such a pitch 
 of wickedness did they come, that, despising 
 the authority of Moses, they prepared to appoint 
 for themselves a leader, under whose guidance 
 they might return to Egypt. Then Joshua and 
 Caleb, who had been of the number of the spies, 
 rent their garments with tears, and implored the 
 people not to believe the spies relating such 
 terrors ; for that they themselves had been with 
 them, and had found nothing dreadful in that 
 country ; and that it behooved them to trust 
 the promises of God, that these enemies would 
 rather become their prey than prove their de- 
 struction. But that stiff-necked race, setting 
 themselves against every good advice, rushed 
 upon them to destroy them. And the Lord, 
 angry on account of these things, exposed a 
 part of the people to be slain by the enemy, 
 while the spies were slain for having excited 
 fear among the people. 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 There followed the revolt of those, who, with 
 Dathan and Abiron as leaders, endeavored to 
 set themselves up against Moses and Aaron ; 
 but the earth, opening, swallowed them alive. 
 And not long after, a revolt of the whole people 
 arose against Moses and Aaron, so that they 
 rushed into the tabernacle, which it was not 
 lawful for any but the priests to enter. Then 
 truly death mowed them down in heaps • and 
 all would have ^perished in a moment, had not 
 the Lord, appeased by the prayers of Moses, 
 turned aside the disaster. Nevertheless, the 
 number of those slain amounted to seven hun- 
 dred and fourteen thousand. 1 And not long 
 after, as had already often happened, a revolt 
 of the people arose on account of the want of 
 water. Then Moses, instructed by God to strike 
 the rock with his rod, with a kind of trial now 
 familiar to him, since he had already done that 
 before, struck the rock once and again, and 
 thus water flowed out of it. In regard, however, 
 to this point, Moses is said to have been reproved 
 by God, that, through want of faith, he did not 
 bring out the water except by repeated blows ; 
 in fact, on account of this transgression, he did 
 not enter the land promised to him, as I shall 
 show farther on. Moses, then, moving away 
 from that place, as he was preparing to lead his 
 
 1 " septingenti et xiiii milia." 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 company along by the borders of Edom, sent 
 ambassadors to the king to beg liberty to pass 
 by ; for he thought it right to abstain from war 
 on account of the connection by blood ; for that 
 nation was descended from Esau. But the 
 king despised the suppliants, and refused them 
 liberty to pass by, being ready to contend in 
 arms. Then Moses directed his march towards 
 the mountain, Or, keeping clear of the forbid- 
 den road, that he might not furnish any cause 
 of war between those related by blood, and on 
 that route he destroyed the king of the nation of 
 the Canaanites. He smote also Seon the king 
 of the Amorites, and possessed himself of all 
 their towns : he conquered, too, Basan and Balac. 
 He pitched his camp beyond Jordan, not far 
 from Jericho. Then a battle took place against 
 the Midianites, and they were conquered and 
 subdued. Moses died, after he had ruled the 
 people forty years in the wilderness. But the 
 Hebrews are said to have remained in the wil- 
 derness for so long a time, with this view, until 
 all those who had not believed the words of 
 God perished. For, except Joshua and Caleb, 
 not one of those who were more than twenty 
 years old on leaving Egypt passed over Jordan. 
 That Moses himself only saw the promised land, 
 and did not reach it, is ascribed to his sin, 
 because, at that time when he was ordered to 
 strike the rock, and bring forth water, he doubted, 
 even after so many proofs of his miraculous 
 power. He died in the one hundred and 
 twentieth year of his age. Nothing is known 
 concerning the place of his burial. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 ArrER the death of Moses, the chief power 
 passed into the hands of Joshua the son of Nun, 
 for Moses had appointed him his successor, 
 being a man very like himself in the good qualities 
 which he displayed. Now, at the commence- 
 ment of his rule, he sent messengers through 
 the camp to instruct the people to make ready 
 supplies of corn, and announces that they should 
 march on the third day. But the river Jordan, 
 a very powerful stream, hindered their crossing, 
 because they did not have a supply of vessels 
 for the occasion, and the stream could not be 
 crossed by fords, as it was then rushing on in 
 full flood. He, therefore, orders the ark to be 
 carried forward by the priests, and that they 
 should take their stand against the current of 
 the river. On this being done, Jordan is said 
 to have been divided, and thus the army was 
 led over on dry ground. There was in these 
 places a town called Jericho, fortified with very 
 strong walls, and not easy to be taken, either by 
 storm or blockade. But Joshua, putting his 
 
 trust in God, did not attack the city either by 
 arms or force ; he simply ordered the ark of 
 God to be carried round the walls, while the 
 priests walked before the ark, and sounded 
 trumpets. But when the ark had been carried 
 round seven times, the walls and the towers fell ; 
 and the city was plundered and burnt. Then 
 Joshua is said to have addressed the Lord, and 1 
 to have called down a curse upon any one who 
 should attempt to restore the town which had 
 thus by divine help been demolished. Next, 
 the army was led against Geth, and an ambus- 
 cade having been placed behind the city, Joshua, 
 pretending fear, fled before the enemy. On 
 seeing this, those who were in the town, opening 
 the gates, began to press upon the enemy giving 
 way. Thus, the men who were in ambush took 
 the city, and all the inhabitants were slain, without 
 one escaping : the king also was taken, and 
 suffered capital punishment. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 When this became known to the kings of the 
 neighboring nations, they made a warlike alliance 
 to put down the Hebrews by arms. But the 
 Gibeonites, a powerful nation with a wealthy 
 city, spontaneously yielded to the Hebrews, 
 promising to do what they were ordered, and 
 were received under protection, while they were 
 told to bring in wood and water. But their 
 surrender had roused the resentment of the 
 kings of the nearest cities. Accordingly, moving 
 up their troops, they surround with a blockade 
 their town, which was called Gabaoth. The 
 townspeople, therefore, in their distress, send 
 messengers to Joshua, that he would help them 
 in their state of siege. Accordingly, he by a 
 forced march came upon the enemy at unawares, 
 and many thousands of them were completely 
 destroyed. When day failed the victors, and it 
 seemed that night would furnish protection to 
 the vanquished, the Hebrew general, through the 
 power of his faith, kept off the night, and the 
 day continued, so that there was no means of 
 escape for the enemy. Five kings who were 
 taken suffered death. By the same attack, 
 neighboring cities also were brought under the 
 power of Joshua, and their kings were cut off. 
 But as it was not my design, studious as I am 
 of brevity, to follow out all these things in order, 
 I only carefully observe this, that twenty-nine 
 kingdoms were brought under the yoke of the 
 Hebrews, and that their territory was distributed 
 among eleven tribes, to man after man. For to 
 the Levites, who had been set apart for the 
 priesthood, no portion was given, in order that 
 
 1 Some words have here been lost, but are conjecturally supplied 
 in the text. 
 
THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 they might the more freely serve God. I desire 
 not, in silence, to pass over the example thus 
 set, but I would earnestly bring it forward as 
 well worthy of being read by the ministers of 
 the Church. For these seem to me not only 
 unmindful of this precept, but even utterly igno- 
 rant of it — such a lust for possessing has, in 
 this age, seized, like an incurable disease, upon 
 their minds. They gape upon possessions ; they 
 cultivate estates ; they repose upon gold ; they 
 buy and sell ; they study gain by every possible 
 means. And even, if any of them seem to have 
 a better aim in life, neither possessing nor 
 trading, still (what is much more disgraceful) 
 remaining inactive, they look for gifts, and have 
 corrupted the whole glory of life by their mer- 
 cenary dispositions, while they present an ap- 
 pearance of sanctity, as if even that might be 
 made a source of gain. But I have gone farther 
 than I intended in expressing my loathing and 
 disgust over the character of our times ; and I 
 hasten to return to the subject in hand. The 
 vanquished territory, then, as I have already 
 said, having been divided among the tribes, the 
 Hebrews enjoyed profound peace ; their neigh- 
 bors, being terrified by war, did not venture to 
 attempt hostilities against those distinguished by 
 so many victories. At the same period died 
 Joshua in the hundred and tenth year of his 
 age. I do not express any definite opinion as 
 to the length of time he ruled : the prevalent 
 view, however, is, that he was at the head of the 
 Hebrew affairs during twenty-seven years. If 
 this were so, then three thousand eight hundred 
 and eighty-four years had elapsed from the 
 beginning of the world to his death. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 After the death of Joshua, the people acted 
 without a leader. But a necessity of making 
 war with the Canaanites having arisen, Judah 
 was appointed as general in the war. Under 
 his guidance, matters were successfully con- 
 ducted : there was the greatest tranquillity both 
 at home and abroad : the people ruled over the 
 nations which had either been subdued or re- 
 ceived under terms of surrender. Then, as 
 almost always happens in a time of prosperity, 
 becoming unmindful of morals and discipline, 
 they began to contract marriages from among 
 the conquered, and by and by to adopt foreign 
 customs, yea, even in a sacrilegious manner to 
 offer sacrifice to idols : so pernicious is all 
 alliance with foreigners. God, foreseeing these 
 things long before, had, by a wholesome precept 
 enjoined upon the Hebrews to give over the 
 conquered nations to utter destruction. But 
 
 the people, through lust for power, preferred 
 (to their own ruin) to rule over those who were 
 conquered. Accordingly, when, forsaking God, 
 they worshiped idols, they were deprived of 
 the divine assistance, and, being vanquished and 
 subdued by the king of Mesopotamia, they paid 
 the penalty of eight years' captivity, until, with 
 Gothoniel as their leader, they were restored to 
 liberty, and enjoyed independence for fifty 
 years. Then again, corrupted by the evil effect 
 of a lengthened peace, they began to sacrifice 
 to idols. And speedily did retribution fall upon 
 them thus sinning. Conquered by Eglon, king 
 of the Moabites, they served him eighteen years, 
 until, by a divine impulse, Aod slew the enemies' 
 king by a stratagem, and, gathering together a 
 hasty army, restored thefm to liberty by force of 
 arms. The same man ruled the Hebrews in 
 peace for forty years. To him Semigar suc- 
 seeded, and he, engaging in battle with the 
 Philistines, 1 secured a decisive victory. But 
 again, the king of the Canaanites, Jabin by 
 name, subdued the Hebrews who were once 
 more serving idols, and exercised over them a 
 grievous tyranny for twenty years, until Deborah, 
 a woman, restored them to their former condi- 
 tion. They had to such a degree lost confidence 
 in their generals, that they were now protected 
 by means of a woman. But it is worthy of 
 notice, that this form of deliverance was arranged 
 beforehand, as a type of the Church, by whose 
 aid captivity to the devil is escaped. The He- 
 brews were forty years under this leader or 
 judge. And being again delivered over to the 
 Midianites for their sins, they were kept under 
 hard rule ; and, being afflicted by the evils of 
 slavery, they implored the divine help. Thus 
 always when in prosperity they were unmindful 
 of the kindnesses of heaven, and prayed to idols ; 
 but in adversity they cried to God. Wherefore, 
 as often as I reflect that those people who lay 
 under so many obligations to the goodness of 
 God, being chastised with so many disasters when 
 they sinned, and experiencing both the mercy 
 and the severity of God, yet were by no means 
 rendered better, and that, though they always 
 obtained pardon for their transgressions, yet 
 they as constantly sinned again after being par- 
 doned, it can appear nothing wonderful that 
 Christ when he came was not received by them, 
 since already, from the beginning, they were 
 found so often rebelling against the Lord. It is, 
 in fact, far more wonderful that the clemency of 
 God never failed them when they sinned, if only 
 they called upon his name. 2 
 
 1 " Allophylos ": lit. strangers. 
 
 2 Many of the proper names occurring in this and other chapters 
 are very different in form from those with which we are familiar in 
 the O. T. But they have generally been given as they stand in the 
 text of our author, and they can easily be identified by any readers 
 who think it worth while to do so. 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 83 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Accordingly, when the Midianites, as we have 
 related above, ruled over them, they turned to 
 the Lord, imploring his wonted tender mercy, 
 and obtained it. There was then among the 
 Hebrews one Gideon by name, a righteous man, 
 who was dear and acceptable to God. The 
 angel stood by him as he was returning home 
 from the harvest-field, and said unto him, " The 
 Lord is with thee, thou mighty man of valor." 
 But he in a humble voice complained that the 
 Lord was not 1 with him, because captivity 
 pressed sore upon his people, and he remem- 
 bered with tears the miracles wrought by the 
 Lord, who had brought them out of the land of 
 Egypt. Then the angel said, " Go, in this spirit 
 in which you have spoken, and deliver the people 
 from captivity." But he declared that he could 
 not, with his" feeble strength, since he was a 
 man of very small importance, undertake such 
 a heavy task. The angel, however, persisted in 
 urging him not to doubt that those things could 
 be done which the Lord said. So then, having 
 offered sacrifice, and overthrown the altar which 
 the Midianites had consecrated to the image of 
 Baal, he went to his own people, and pitched 
 his camp near the camp of the enemy. But the 
 nation of the Amalekites had also joined them- 
 selves to the Midianites, while Gideon had not 
 gathered more than an army of thirty-two thou- 
 sand men. But before the battle began, God 
 said to him that this was a larger number than 
 he wished him to lead forth to the conflict ; 
 that, if he did make use of so many, the Hebrews 
 would, in accordance with their usual wickedness, 
 ascribe the result of the fight, not to God, but to 
 their own bravery ; he should therefore furnish an 
 opportunity of leaving to those who desired to do 
 so. When this was made known to the people, 
 twenty and two thousand left the camp. But 
 of the ten thousand who had remained, Gideon, 
 as instructed by God, did not retain more than 
 three hundred : the rest he dismissed from the 
 field. Thus, entering the camp of the enemy 
 in the middle watch of the night, and having 
 ordered all his men to sound their trumpets, he 
 caused great terror to the enemy ; and no one 
 had courage to resist ; but they made off in a 
 disgraceful flight wherever they could. The 
 Hebrews, however, meeting them in every direc- 
 tion, cut the fugitives to pieces. Gideon pur- 
 sued the kings beyond Jordan, and having cap- 
 tured them, gave them over to death. In that 
 battle, a hundred and twenty thousand of the 
 enemy are said to have been slain, and fifteen 
 thousand captured. Then, by universal con- 
 
 1 " Non esse in se." 
 
 2 " Infractis viribus": Vorstius well remarks that ' 
 here used with the sense of the simple " fractis." 
 
 infractis " is 
 
 sent, a proposal was made to Gideon that he 
 should be king of the people. But he rejected 
 this proposal, and preferred rather to live on 
 equal terms with his fellow-citizens than to be 
 their ruler. Having, therefore, escaped from 
 their captivity, which had pressed upon the 
 people for seven years, they now enjoyed peace 
 for a period of forty years. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 But on the death of Gideon, his son Abime- 
 lech, whose mother was a concubine, having 
 slain his brothers with the concurrence of a 
 multitude of wicked men, and especially by the 
 help of the chief men among the Shechemites, 
 took possession of the kingdom. And he, being 
 harassed by civil strife, while he pressed hard 
 upon his people by war, attempted to storm a 
 certain tower, into which they, after losing the 
 town, had betaken themselves by flight. But, as 
 he approached the place without sufficient cau- 
 tion, he was slain by a stone which a woman threw, 
 after holding the government for three years. 
 To him succeeded Thola, who reigned two and 
 twenty years. After him came Jair ; and after 
 he had held the chief place for a like period of 
 twenty-two years, the people, forsaking God, 
 gave themselves up to idols. On this account, 
 the Israelites were subdued by the Philistines 
 and Ammonites, and remained under their power 
 for eighteen years. At the end of this period, 
 they began to call upon God ; but the divine 
 answer to them was that they should rather in- 
 voke the aid of their images, for that he would 
 no longer extend his mercy to those who had 
 been so ungrateful. But they with tears con- 
 fessed their fault, and implored forgiveness ; 
 while, throwing away their idols, and earnestly 
 calling upon God, they obtained the divine com- 
 passion, though it had been at first refused. 
 Accordingly, under Jephtha as general, they 
 assembled in great numbers for the purpose of 
 recovering their liberty by arms, having first 
 sent ambassadors to King Ammon, begging that, 
 content with his own territories, he should keep 
 from warring against them. But he, far from 
 declining battle, at once drew up his army. 
 Then Jephtha, before the signal for battle was 
 given, is said to have vowed that, if he obtained 
 the victory, the person who first met him as he 
 returned home, should be offered to God as a 
 sacrifice. Accordingly, on the enemy being 
 defeated, as Jephtha was returning home, his 
 daughter met him, having joyfully gone forth 
 with drums and dances to receive her father as 
 a conqueror. Then Jephtha, being overwhelmed 
 with sorrow, rent his clothes in his affliction, 
 and made known to his daughter the stringent 
 
THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 obligation of his vow. But she, with a courage 
 not to be expected from a woman, did not 
 refuse to die ; she only begged that her life 
 might be spared for two months, that she might 
 before dying have the opportunity of seeing the 
 friends of her own age. This being done, she 
 willingly returned to her father, and fulfilled 
 the vow to God. Jephtha held the chief power 
 for six years. To him Esebon succeeded, and 
 having ruled in tranquillity for seven years, then 
 died. After him, Elon the Zebulonite ruled for 
 ten years, and Abdon also for eight years ; but, 
 as their rule was peaceful, they performed nothing 
 which history might record. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 The Israelites yet again turned to idols ; and, 
 being deprived of the divine protection, were 
 subdued by the Philistines, and paid the penalty 
 of their unfaithfulness by forty years of captivity. 
 At that time, Samson is related to have been 
 born. His mother, after being long barren, had 
 a vision of an angel, and was told to abstain 
 from wine, and strong drink, and everything 
 unclean ; for that she should bear a son who 
 would be the restorer of liberty to the Israelites, 
 and their avenger upon their enemies. He, 
 with unshorn locks, is said to have been pos- 
 sessed of marvelous strength, so much so that 
 he tore to pieces with his hands a lion which met 
 him in the way. He had a wife from the Philis- 
 tines, and when she, in the absence of her hus- 
 band, had entered into marriage with another, he, 
 through indignation on account of his wife being 
 thus taken from him, wrought destruction to her 
 nation. Trusting in God and his own strength, 
 he openly brought disaster on those hitherto 
 victors. For, catching three hundred foxes, he 
 tied burning torches to their tails, and sent them 
 into the fields of the enemy. It so happened 
 that at the time the harvest was ripe, and thus 
 the fire easily caught, while the vines and olive- 
 trees were burnt to ashes. He was thus seen 
 to have avenged the injury done him in taking 
 away his wife, by a great loss inflicted on the 
 Philistines. And they, enraged at this disaster, 
 destroyed by fire the woman who had been the 
 cause of so great a calamity, along with her 
 house and her father. But Samson, thinking 
 himself as yet but poorly avenged, ceased not 
 to harass the heathen race with all sorts of evil 
 devices. Then the Jews, being compelled to it, 
 handed him over as a prisoner to the Philistines ; 
 but, when thus handed over, he burst his bonds, 
 and seizing the jaw-bone : of an ass, which chance 
 offered him as a weapon, he slew a thousand of 
 his enemies. And, as the heat of the day grew 
 
 1 Simply " osse asini " in text. 
 
 violent, and he began to suffer from thirst, he 
 called upon God, and water flowed forth from - 
 the bone which he held in his hand. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 At that time Samson ruled over the Hebrews, 
 the Philistines having been subdued by the 
 prowess of a single individual. They, therefore, 
 sought his life by stratagem, not daring to assail 
 him openly, and with this view they bribe his 
 wife (whom he had received after what has been 
 stated took place) to betray to them wherein 
 the strength of her husband lay. She attacked 
 him with female blandishments ; and, after he 
 had deceived her, and staved off her purpose 
 for a long time, she persuaded him to tell that 
 his strength was situated in his hair. Presently 
 she cut off his hair stealthily while he was asleep, 
 and thus delivered him up to the Philistines ; 
 for although he had often before been given 
 up to them, they had not been able to hold him 
 fast. Then they, having put out his eyes, bound 
 him with fetters, and cast him into prison. 
 But, in course of time, his hair which had been 
 cut off began to grow again, and his strength to 
 return with it. And now Samson, conscious of 
 his recovered strength, was only waiting for an 
 opportunity of righteous revenge. The Philis- 
 tines had a custom on their festival days of pro- 
 ducing Samson as if to make a public spectacle 
 of him, while they mocked their illustrious cap- 
 tive. Accordingly, on a certain day, when they 
 were making a feast in honor of their idol, they 
 ordered Samson to be exhibited. Now, the 
 temple, in which all the people and all the 
 princes of the Philistines feasted, rested on two 
 pillars of remarkable size ; and Samson, when 
 brought out, was placed between these pillars. 
 Then he, having first called upon the Lord, 
 seized his opportunity, and threw down the 
 pillars. The whole multitude was overwhelmed 
 in the ruins of the building, and Samson himself 
 died along with his enemies, not without having 
 avenged himself upon them, after he had ruled 
 the Hebrews twenty years. To him Simmichar 
 succeeded, of whom Scripture relates nothing 
 more than that simple fact. For I do not find 
 that even the time when his rule came to an 
 end is mentioned, and I see that the people 
 was for some time without a leader. Accordingly, 
 when civil war arose against the tribe of Benja- 
 min, Judah was chosen as a temporary leader 
 in the war. But most of those who have writ- 
 ten about these times note that his rule was 
 only for a single year. On this account, many 
 
 - This is clearly the meaning, and Halm's punctuation, " invo- 
 cato Deo ex osse, quod manu tenebat, aqua fluxit," is obviously 
 wrong. 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 85 
 
 pass him by altogether, and place Eli, the priest, 
 immediately after Samson. We shall leave that 
 point doubtful, as one not positively ascertained. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 About these times, civil war, as we have said, 
 had broken out ; and the following was the 
 cause of the tumult. A certain Levite was on a 
 journey along with his concubine, and, con- 
 strained by the approach of night, he took up 
 his abode in the town of Gabaa, which was in- 
 habited by men of Benjamin. A certain old 
 man having kindly admitted him to hospitality, 
 the young men of the town surrounded the 
 guest, with the view of subjecting him to im- 
 proper treatment. After being much chidden 
 by the old man, and with difficulty dissuaded 
 from their purpose, they at length received for 
 their wanton sport the person of his concubine as 
 a substitute for his own ; and they thus spared 
 the stranger, but abused her through the whole 
 night, and only restored her on the following day. 
 But she (whether from the injury their vile con- 
 duct had inflicted on her, or from shame, I do not 
 venture to assert) died on again seeing * her hus- 
 band. Then the Levite, in testimony of the hor- 
 rible deed, divided her members into twelve parts, 
 and distributed them among the twelve tribes, 
 that indignation at such conduct might the more 
 readily be excited in them all. And when this 
 became known to all of them, the other eleven 
 tribes entered into a warlike confederacy against 
 Benjamin. In this war, Judah, as we have said, 
 was the general. But they had bad success in 
 the first two battles. At length, however, in the 
 third, the Benjamites were conquered, and cut 
 off to a man ; thus the crime of a few was pun- 
 ished by the destruction of a multitude. These 
 things also are contained in the Book of Judges : 
 the Books of Kings follow. But to me who am 
 following the succession of the years, and the 
 order of the dates, the history does not appear 
 marked by strict chronological accuracy. For, 
 since after Samson as judge, there came Semi- 
 gar, and a little later the history certifies that 
 the people lived without judges, Eli the priest is 
 related in the Books of Kings to have also been 
 a judge, 2 but the Scripture has not stated how 
 many years there were between Eli and Samson. 
 I see that there was some portion of time be- 
 tween these two, which is left in obscurity. 
 But, from the day of the death of Joshua up to 
 the time at which Samson died, there are 
 reckoned four hundred and eighteen years, and 
 from the beginning of the world, four thousand 
 
 1 A clear mistake of memory in our author. The whole narra- 
 tive is confused. 
 
 2 The meaning is here doubtful. 
 
 three hundred and three. Nevertheless, I am 
 not ignorant that others differ from this reckon- 
 ing of ours ; but I am at the same time conscious 
 that I have, not without some care, set forth the 
 order of events in the successive years (a thing 
 hitherto left in obscurity), until I have fallen 
 upon these times, concerning which I confess 
 that I have my doubts. Now I shall go on to 
 what remains. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 The Hebrews, then, as I have narrated above, 
 were living according to their own will, without 
 any judge or general. Eli was priest ; and in 
 his days Samuel was born. His father's name 
 was Elchana, and his mother's, Anna. She 
 having long been barren, is said, when she asked 
 a child from God, to have vowed that, if it were 
 a boy, it should be dedicated to God. Accord- 
 ingly, having brought forth a boy, she delivered 
 him to Eli the priest. By and by, when he had 
 grown up, God spoke to him. He denounced 
 wrath against Eli the priest on account of the 
 life of his sons, who had made the priesthood 
 of their father a means of gain to themselves, 
 and exacted gifts from those who came to 
 sacrifice ; and, although their father is related 
 to have often reproved them, yet his reproofs 
 were too gentle to serve the purpose of discipline. 
 Well, the Philistines made an incursion into 
 Judsea, and were met by the Israelites. But the 
 Hebrews, being beaten, prepare to renew the 
 contest : they carry the ark of the Lord with 
 them into battle, and the sons of the priests go 
 forth with it, because he himself, being burdened 
 with years, and afflicted with blindness, could 
 not discharge that duty. But, when the ark 
 was brought within sight of the enemy, terrified 
 as if by the majesty of God's presence, they 
 were ready to take to flight. But again recover- 
 ing courage, and changing their minds (not 
 without a divine impulse), they rush into battle 
 with their whole strength. The Hebrews were 
 conquered ; the ark was taken ; the sons of the 
 priest fell. Eli, when the news of the calamity 
 was brought to him, being overwhelmed with 
 grief, breathed his last, after he had held the 
 priesthood for twenty 1 years. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 The Philistines, victorious in this prosperous 
 battle, brought the ark of God, which had fallen 
 into their hands, into the temple of Dagon in 
 the town of Azotus. But the image, dedicated 
 to a demon, fell down when the ark was brought 
 in there ; and, on their setting the idol up again 
 
 1 The Hebrew text has forty years. 
 
86 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 in its place, in the following night it was torn in 
 pieces. Then mice, springing up throughout all 
 the country, caused by their venomous bites the 
 death of many thousand persons. 1 The men of 
 Azotus, constrained by this source of suffering, 
 in order to escape the calamity, removed the ark 
 to Gath. But the people there being afflicted 
 with the same evils, conveyed the ark to Asca- 
 lon. The inhabitants, however, of that place, 
 the chief men of the nation having been called 
 together, formed the design of sending back the 
 ark to the Hebrews. Thus, in accordance with 
 the opinion of the chiefs, and augurs, and priests, 
 it was placed upon a cart, and sent back with 
 many gifts. This remarkable thing then hap- 
 pened, that when they had yoked heifers to the 
 conveyance, and had retained their calves at 
 home, these cattle took their course, without 
 any guide, towards Judasa, and showed no desire 
 of returning, from affection toward their young 
 left behind. The rulers of the Philistines, who 
 had followed the ark into the territory of the 
 Hebrews, were so struck by the marvelousness 
 of this occurrence that they performed a relig- 
 ious service. But the Jews, when they saw the 
 ark brought back, vied with each other in joy- 
 ously rushing forth from the town of Betsamis to 
 meet it, and in hurrying, exulting, and returning 
 thanks to God. Presently, the Levites, whose 
 business it was, perform a sacrifice to God, and 
 offer those heifers which had brought the ark. 
 But the ark could not be kept in the town which 
 I have named above, and thus severe illness fell, 
 by the appointment of God, upon the whole city. 
 The ark was then transferred to the town of 
 Cariathiarim, 2 and there it remained twenty 
 years. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 At this time, Samuel the priest x ruled over 
 the Hebrews ; and there being a cessation of all 
 war, the people lived in peace. But this tran- 
 quillity was disturbed by an invasion of the Phil- 
 istines, and all ranks were in a state of terror 
 from their consciousness of guilt. Samuel, 
 having first offered sacrifice, and trusting in God, 
 led his men out to battle, and the enemy being 
 routed at the first onset, victory declared for the 
 Hebrews. But when the fear of the enemy was 
 thus removed, and affairs were now prosperous 
 and peaceful, the people, changing their views 
 for the worse, after the manner of the mob, who 
 are always weary of what they have, and long 
 for things of which they have had no experience, 
 expressed a desire for the kingly name — a name 
 
 1 No reference to this occurs in the Hebrew text, but it is found 
 in the Greek, and is also noticed by Josephus. See the LXX. 
 i Sam. v. 6, and Josephus, Antzg. vi. i. 
 
 2 Called Kirjatk-jearitn in the English version. 
 1 Samuel was a Levite, but not a priest 
 
 greatly disliked by almost all free nations. Yes, 
 with an example of madness certainly very re- 
 markable, they now preferred to exchange liberty 
 for slavery. They, therefore, come in great 
 numbers to Samuel, in order that, as he himself 
 was now an old man, he might make for them a 
 king. But he endeavored in a useful address, 
 quietly to deter the people from their insane 
 desire ; he set forth the tyranny and haughty 
 rule of kings, while he extolled liberty, and de- 
 nounced slavery ; finally, he threatened them 
 with the divine wrath, if they should show them- 
 selves men so corrupt in mind as that, when 
 having God as their king, they should demand 
 for themselves a king from among men. Hav- 
 ing spoken these and other words of a like nature 
 to no purpose, finding that the people persisted 
 in the determination, he consulted God. And 
 God, moved by the madness of that insane 
 nation, replied that nothing was to be refused to 
 them asking against their own interests. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 Accordingly, Saul, having been first anointed 
 by Samuel with the sacerdotal oil, was appointed 
 king. He was of the tribe of Benjamin, and his 
 father's name was Kish. He was modest in 
 mind, and of a singularly handsome figure, so 
 that the dignity of his person worthily corre- 
 sponded to the royal dignity. But in the be- 
 ginning of his reign, some portion of the people 
 had revolted from him, refusing to acknowledge 
 his authority, and had joined themselves to 
 the Ammonites. Saul, however, energetically 
 wreaked his vengeance on these people ; the 
 enemy were conquered, and pardon was granted 
 to the Hebrews. Then Saul is said to have 
 been anointed by Samuel a second time. Next, 
 a bloody war arose by an invasion of the 
 Philistines ; and Saul had appointed Gilgal as 
 the place where his army was to assemble. 
 As they waited there seven days for Samuel, 
 that he might offer sacrifice to God, the people 
 gradually dropped away owing to his delay, and 
 the king, with unlawful presumption, presented 
 a burnt-offering, thus taking upon him the duty 
 of a priest. For this he was severely rebuked 
 by Samuel, and acknowledged his sin with a 
 penitence that was too late. For, as a result of 
 the king's sin, fear had pervaded the whole 
 army. The camp of the enemy lying at no 
 great distance showed them how actual the 
 danger was, and no one had the courage to 
 think of going forth to battle : most had be- 
 taken themselves to the marshes. 1 For besides 
 the want of courage on the part of those who 
 
 1 The text here is very uncertain; we have followed the reading 
 of Halm, " lamas," but others have " lacrimas " or " latebras." 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 87 
 
 felt that God was alienated from them on 
 account of the king's sin, the army was in the 
 greatest want of iron weapons ; so much so that 
 nobody, except Saul and Jonathan his son, is 
 said to have possessed either sword or spear. 
 For the Philistines, as conquerors in the former 
 wars, had deprived the Hebrews of the use of 
 arms, 2 and no one had had the power of forging 
 any weapon of war, or even making any imple- 
 ment for rural purposes. In these circum- 
 stances, Jonathan, with an audacious design, and 
 with his armor-bearer as his only companion, 
 entered the camp of the enemy, and having 
 slain about twenty of them, spread a terror 
 throughout the whole army. And then, through 
 the appointment of God, betaking themselves to 
 flight, they neither carried out orders nor kept 
 their ranks, but placed all the hope of safety in 
 flight. Saul, perceiving this, hastily drew forth 
 his men, and pursuing the fugitives, obtained a 
 victory. The king is said on that day to have 
 issued a proclamation that no one should help 
 himself to food until the enemy were destroyed. 
 But Jonathan, knowing nothing of this prohibi- 
 tion, found a honey-comb, and, dipping the 
 point of his weapon in it, ate up the honey. 
 When that became known to the king through 
 the anger of God which followed, he ordered 
 his son to be put to death. But by the help 
 of the people, he was saved from destruction. 
 At that time, Samuel, being instructed by God, 
 went to the king, and told him in the words 
 of God to make, war on the nation of the 
 Amalekites, who had of old hindered the He- 
 brews when they were coming out of Egypt ; 
 and the prohibition was added that they should 
 not covet any of the spoils of the conquered. 
 Accordingly, an army was led into the territory 
 of the enemy, the king was taken, and the 
 nation subdued. But Saul, unable to resist 
 the magnitude of the spoil, and unmindful of the 
 divine injunctions, ordered the booty to be 
 saved and gathered together. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 God, displeased with what had been done, 
 spoke to Samuel, saying that he repented that 
 he had made Saul king. The priest reports 
 what he had heard to the king. And ere long, 
 being instructed by God, he anointed David 
 with the royal oil, while he was as yet only a 
 little boy 1 living under the care of his father, 
 and acting as a shepherd, while he was accus- 
 tomed often to play upon the harp. For this 
 reason, he was taken afterwards by Saul, and 
 
 2 " Armorum " is here supplied, but some prefer " cotis," accord- 
 ing to 1 Sam. xiii. 20. 
 
 1 This is a mistake : David was undoubtedly then a grown-up 
 young man. 
 
 reckoned among the servants of the king. And 
 the Philistines and Hebrews being at this time 
 hotly engaged in war, as the armies were sta- 
 tioned opposite to each other, a certain man of 
 the Philistines named Goliath, a man of marvel- 
 ous size and strength, passing along the ranks 
 of his countrymen, cast insults, in the fiercest 
 terms, upon the enemy, and challenged any one 
 to engage in single combat with him. Then the 
 king promised a great reward and his daughter 
 in marriage to any one who should bring home 
 the spoils of that boaster ; but no one out of so 
 great a multitude ventured to make the attempt. 
 In these circumstances, though still a youth, 2 
 David offered himself for the contest, and reject- 
 ing the arms by which his yet tender age was 
 weighed down, simply with a staff and five stones 
 which he had taken, advanced to the battle. And 
 by the first blow, having discharged one of the 
 stones from a sling, he overthrew the Philistine ; 
 then he cut off the head of his conquered foe, 
 carried off his spoils, and afterwards laid up his 
 sword in the temple. In the meanwhile, all the 
 Philistines, turning to flight, yielded the victory 
 to the Hebrews. But the great favor shown to 
 David as they were returning from the battle 
 excited the envy of the king. Fearing, how- 
 ever, that if he put to death one so beloved by 
 all, that might give rise to hatred against himself 
 and prove disastrous, he resolved, under an 
 appearance of doing him honor, to expose him 
 to danger. First then he made him a captain, 
 that he might be charged with the affairs of war ; 
 and next, although he had promised him his 
 daughter, he broke his word, and gave her to 
 another. Ere long, a younger daughter of the 
 king, Melchol by name, fell violently in love 
 with David. Accordingly, Saul sets before 
 David as the condition of obtaining her in mar- 
 riage the following proposal : that if he should 
 bring in a hundred foreskins of the enemy, the 
 royal maiden would be given him in marriage ; 
 for he hoped that the youth, venturing on so 
 great dangers, would probably perish. But the 
 result proved very different from what he im- 
 agined, for David, according to the proposal 
 made to him, speedily brought in a hundred 
 foreskins of the Philistines ; and thus he ob- 
 tained the daughter of the king in marriage. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 The hatred of the king towards him increased 
 daily, under the influence of jealousy, for the 
 wicked always persecute the good. He, there- 
 fore, commanded his servants and Jonathan his 
 son, to prepare snares against his life. But 
 Jonathan had even from the first had a great 
 
 '"Puer": another mistake. 
 
88 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 regard and affection for David ; and therefore 
 the king, being taken to task by his son, sup- 
 pressed the cruel order he had given. But the 
 wicked are not long good. For, when Saul was 
 afflicted by a spirit of error, and David stood by 
 him, soothing him with the harp under his 
 trouble, Saul tried to pierce him with a spear, 
 and would have done so, had not he rapidly 
 evaded the deadly blow. From this time forth, 
 the king no longer secretly but openly sought to 
 compass his death; and David no longer trusted 
 himself in his power. He fled, and first betook 
 himself to Samuel, then to Abimelech, and finally 
 fled to the king of Moab. By-and-by, under 
 the instructions of the prophet Gad, he returned 
 into the land of Judah, and there ran in danger 
 of his life. At that time, Saul slew Abimelech 
 the priest because he had received David ; and 
 when none of the king's servants ventured to lay 
 hands upon the priest, Doeg, the Syrian, fulfilled 
 the cruel duty. After that, David made for the 
 desert. Thither Saul also followed him, but his 
 efforts at his destruction were in vain, for God 
 protected him. There was a cave in the desert, 
 opening with a vast recess. David had thrown 
 himself into the inner parts of this cave. Saul, 
 not knowing that he was there, had gone into it 
 for the purpose of taking 1 bodily refreshment, 
 and there, overcome by sleep, he was resting. 
 When David perceived this, although all urged 
 him to avail himself of the opportunity, he 
 abstained from slaying the king, and simply took 
 away his mantle. Presently going out, he ad- 
 dressed the king from a safe position behind, 
 recounting the services he had done him, how 
 often he had exposed his life to peril for the 
 sake of the kingdom, and how last of all, he had 
 not, on the present occasion, sought to kill him 
 when he was given over to him by God. Upon 
 hearing these things, Saul confessed his fault, 
 entreated pardon, shed tears, extolled the piety 
 of David, and blamed his own wickedness, while 
 he addressed David as king and son. He was 
 so much changed from his former ferocious 
 character, that no one could now have thought 
 he would make any further attempt against his 
 son-in-law. But David, who had thoroughly 2 
 tested and known his evil disposition, did not 
 think it safe to put himself in the power of the 
 king, and kept himself within the desert. Saul, 
 almost mad with rage, because he was unable to 
 capture his son-in-law, gave in marriage to one 
 Faltim his daughter Melchol, who, as we have 
 related above, had been married to David. 
 David fled to the Philistines. 
 
 1 " Reficiendi corporis gratia": different from the Hebrew 'ext. 
 
 2 The text is uncertain, but the meaning is clear. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 At that time Samuel died. Saul, when the 
 Philistines made war upon him, consulted God, 
 and no answer was returned to him. Then, by 
 means of a woman whose entrails a spirit of 
 error 1 had filled, he called up and consulted 
 Samuel. Saul was informed by him that on the 
 following day he with his sons, being overcome 
 by the Philistines, would fall in the battle. The 
 Philistines, accordingly, having pitched their 
 camp on the enemy's territory, drew up their 
 army in battle array on the following day, David, 
 however, being sent away from the camp, 
 because they did not believe that he would be 
 faithful to them against his own people. But 
 the battle taking place, the Hebrews were routed 
 and the sons of the king fell ; Saul, having sunk 
 down from his horse, that he might not be taken 
 alive by the enemy, fell on his own sword. We 
 do not find any certain statements as to the 
 length of his reign, unless that he is said in the 
 Acts of the Apostles to have reigned forty 
 years. As to this, however, I am inclined to 
 think that Paul, who made the statement in his 
 preaching, then meant to include also the years 
 of Samuel under the length of that king's reign. 2 
 Most of those, however, who have written about 
 these times, remark that he reigned thirty years. 
 I can, by no means, agree with this opinion, for 
 at the time when the ark of God was transferred 
 to the town of Cariathiarim, Saul had not yet 
 begun to reign, and it is related that the ark 
 was removed by David the king out of that town 
 after it had been there twenty years. There- 
 fore, since Saul reigned and died within that 
 period, he must have held the government only 
 for a very brief space of time. We find the 
 same obscurity concerning the times of Samuel, 
 who, having been born under the priesthood of 
 Eli, is related, when very old, to have fulfilled 
 the duties of a priest. By some, however, who 
 have written about these times (for the sacred 
 history has recorded almost nothing about his 
 years), 3 but by most he is said to have ruled the 
 people seventy years. I have, however, been 
 unable to discover what authority there is for 
 this assumption. Amid such variety of error, 
 we have followed the account of the Chronicles, 4 
 because we think that it was taken (as said 
 above) from the Acts of the Apostles, and we 
 repeat that Samuel and Saul together held the 
 government for forty years. 
 
 1 The witch of Endor seems here to be referred to as if she had 
 practised ventriloquism, this being regarded as a form of demoniacal 
 possession. 
 
 2 See Alford on Acts xiii. 21. 
 
 8 Halm here inserts the usual mark of a lacuna in the text : 
 others omit the words " a plerisque autem." 
 
 4 He here specially refers to the well-known Chronicles of 
 Eusebius, which were translated into Latin, and supplemented by 
 Saint Jerome. 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 89 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 Saul having thus been cut off, David, when the 
 news of his death was brought to him in the land 
 of the Philistines, is related to have wept, and 
 to have given a marvelous proof of his affection. 
 He then betook himself to Hebron, a town of 
 Judaea ; and, being there again anointed with 
 the royal oil, received the title of king. But 
 Abenner, who had been master of the host of 
 King Saul, despised David, and made Isbaal 
 king, the son of King Saul. Various battles 
 then took place between the generals of the 
 kings. Abenner was generally routed ; yet in 
 his flight he cut off the brother of Joab, who 
 had the command of the army on the side of 
 David. Joab, on account of the sorrow he felt 
 for this, afterwards, when Abenner had surren- 
 dered to King David, ordered him to be mur- 
 dered, not without regret on the part of the 
 king, whose honor he had thus tarnished. At 
 the same time, almost all the older men of the 
 Hebrews conferred on him by public consent 
 the sovereignty of the whole nation ; for during 
 seven years he had reigned only in Hebron. 
 Thus, he was anointed king for the third time, 
 being about thirty years of age. He repulsed 
 in successful battles the Philistines making in- 
 roads upon his kingdom. And at that time, he 
 transferred to Zion the ark of God, which, as I 
 have said above, was in the town of Cariathiarim. 
 And when he had formed the intention of build- 
 ing a temple to God, the divine answer was 
 given him to the effect, that that was reserved 
 for his son. He then conquered the Philistines 
 in war, subjugated the Moabites, and subdued 
 Syria, imposing tribute upon it. He brought 
 back with him an enormous amount of booty in 
 gold and brass. Next, a war arose against the 
 Ammonites on account of the injury which had 
 been done by their king, Annon. And when 
 the Syrians again rebelled, having formed a con- 
 federacy for war with the Ammonites, David 
 intrusted the chief command of the war to 
 Joab, the master of his host, and he himself 
 remained in Jerusalem far from the scene of 
 strife. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 At this time, he knew in a guilty way Bersabe, 
 a woman of remarkable beauty. She is said to 
 have been the wife of a certain man called 
 Uriah, who was then in the camp. David caused 
 him to be slain by exposing him to the enemy 
 at a dangerous place in the battle. In this way, 
 he added to the number of his wives the woman 
 who was now free from the bond of marriage, 
 but who was already pregnant through adultery. 
 
 Then David, after being severely reproved by 
 Nathan the prophet, although he confessed his 
 sin, did not escape the punishment of God. 
 For he lost in a few days the son who was born 
 from the clandestine connection, and many 
 terrible things happened in respect to his house 
 and family. At last his son Absalom lifted im- 
 pious arms against his father, with the desire of 
 driving him from the throne. Joab encountered 
 him in the field of battle, and the king entreated 
 him to spare the young man when conquered ; 
 but he, disregarding this command, avenged 
 with the sword his parricidal attempts. That 
 victory is said to have been a mournful one to 
 the king : so great was his natural affection that 
 he wished even his parricidal son to be forgiven. 
 This war seemed hardly finished when another 
 arose, under a certain general called Sabaea, 
 who had stirred up all the wicked to arms. 
 But the whole commotion was speedily checked 
 by the death of the leader. David then engaged 
 in several battles against the Philistines with 
 favorable results ; and all being subdued by war, 
 both foreign and home disturbances having been 
 brought to accord, he possessed in peace a most 
 flourishing kingdom. Then a sudden desire 
 seized him of numbering the people, in order to 
 ascertain the strength of his empire ; and accord- 
 ingly they were numbered by Joab, the master 
 of the host, and were found to amount to one 
 million three hundred thousand * citizens. David 
 soon regretted and repented of this proceeding, 
 and implored pardon of God for having lifted 
 up his thoughts to this, that he should reckon 
 the power of his kingdom rather by the multi- 
 tude of his subjects than by the divine favor. 
 Accordingly, an angel was sent to him to reveal 
 to him a threefold punishment, and to give him 
 the power of choosing either one or another. 
 Well, when a famine for three years was set 
 before him, and flight before his enemies for 
 three months, and a pestilence for three days, 
 shunning both flight and famine, he made choice 
 of pestilence, and, almost in a moment of time, 
 seventy thousand men perished. Then David, 
 beholding the angel by whose right hand the 
 people were overthrown, implored pardon, and 
 offered himself singly to punishment instead of 
 all, saying that he deserved destruction inasmuch 
 as it was he who had sinned. Thus, the punish- 
 ment of the people was turned aside ; and David 
 built an altar to God on the spot where he had 
 beheld the angel. After this, having become 
 infirm through years and illness, he appointed 
 Solomon, who had been born to him by Bersabe, 
 the wife of Uriah, his successor in the kingdom. 
 He, having been anointed with the royal oil by 
 
 1 As is often the case with respect to numbers, there are discrep' 
 ancies in the various accounts given of this census. 
 
go 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 Sadoc the priest, received the title of king, 
 while his father was still alive. David died, 
 after he had reigned forty years. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 Solomon in the beginning of his reign sur- 
 rounded the city with a wall. To him while 
 asleep God appeared standing by him, and gave 
 him the choice of whatever things he desired. 
 But he asked that nothing more than wisdom 
 should be granted him, deeming all other things 
 of little value. Accordingly, when he arose from 
 sleep, taking his stand before the sanctuary of 
 God, he gave a proof of the wisdom which had 
 been bestowed upon him by God. For two women 
 who dwelt in one house, having given birth to 
 male children at the same time, and one of these 
 having died in the night three days afterwards, 
 the mother of the dead child, while the other 
 woman slept, insidiously substituted her child, 
 and took away the living one. Then there arose 
 an altercation between them, and the matter 
 was at length brought before the king. As no 
 witness was forthcoming, it was a difficult matter 
 to give a judgment between both denying guilt. 
 Then Solomon, in the exercise of his gift of 
 divine wisdom, ordered the child to be slain, 
 and its body to be divided between the two 
 doubtful claimants. Well, when one of them 
 acquiesced in this judgment, but the other 
 wished rather to give up the boy than that he 
 should be cut in pieces, Solomon, concluding 
 from the feeling displayed by this woman that 
 she was the true mother, adjudged the child to 
 her. The bystanders could not repress their 
 admiration at this decision, since he had in such 
 a way brought out the hidden truth by his sa- 
 gacity. Accordingly, the kings of the neighbor- 
 ing nations, out of admiration for his ability and 
 wisdom, courted his friendship and alliance, 
 being prepared to carry out his commands. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 Trusting in these resources, Solomon set 
 about erecting a temple of immense size to God, 
 funds for the purpose having been got together 
 during three years, and laid the foundation of 
 it about the fourth year of his reign. This was 
 about the five hundred and eighty-eighth year 
 after the departure of the Hebrews from Egypt, 
 although in the third Book of Kings the years 
 are reckoned at four hundred and forty. 1 This 
 is by no means accurate ; for it would have been 
 more likely that, in the order of dates I have 
 
 1 Here, again, there is much discrepancy in the accounts. 
 
 given above, I should perhaps reckon fewei 
 years than more. But I do not doubt that the 
 truth had been falsified by the carelessness of 
 copyists, especially since so many ages inter- 
 vened, rather than that the sacred - writer erred. 
 In the same way, in the case of this little work 
 of ours, we believe it will happen that, through 
 the negligence of transcribers, those things which 
 have been put together, not without care on our 
 part, should be corrupted. Well, then, Solomon 
 finished his work of building the temple in the 
 twentieth year from its commencement. Then, 
 having offered sacrifice in that place, as well as 
 uttered a prayer, by which he blessed the people 
 and the temple, God spoke to him, declaring 
 that, if at any time they should sin and forsake 
 God, their temple should be razed to the ground. 
 We see that this has a long time ago been ful- 
 filled, and in due time we shall set forth the 
 connected order of events. In the meantime, 
 Solomon abounded in wealth, and was, in fact, 
 the richest of all the kings that ever lived. But, 
 as always takes place in such circumstances, he 
 sunk from wealth into luxury and vice, forming 
 marriages (in spite of the prohibition of God) 
 with foreign women, until he had seven hundred 
 wives, and three hundred concubines. As a 
 consequence, he set up idols for them, after the 
 manner of their nations, to which they might 
 offer sacrifice. God, turned away from him by 
 such doings, reproved him sharply, and made 
 known to him as a punishment, that the greater 
 part of his kingdom would be taken from his 
 son, and given to a servant. And that happened 
 accordingly. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 For, on the death of Solomon in the fortieth 
 year of his reign, Roboam his son having suc- 
 ceeded to the throne of his father in the sixteenth 
 year of his age, a portion of the people, taking 
 offense, revolted from him. For, having asked 
 that the very heavy tribute which Solomon had 
 imposed upon them might be lessened, he re- 
 jected the entreaties of these suppliants, and 
 thus alienated from him the favor of the whole 
 people. Accordingly, by universal consent, the 
 government was bestowed on Jeroboam. He, 
 sprung from a family of middle rank, had for 
 some time been in the service of Solomon. But 
 when the king found that the sovereignty of the 
 Hebrews had been promised to him by a re- 
 sponse of the prophet Achia, he had resolved 
 privately to cut him off. Jeroboam, under the 
 influence of this fear, fled into Egypt, and there 
 married a wife of the royal family. But, when 
 at length he heard of the death of Solomon, he 
 
 " Propheta.' 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 91 
 
 returned to his native land, and, by the wish of 
 the people, as we have said above, he assumed 
 the government. Two tribes, however, Judah 
 and Benjamin, had remained under the sway of 
 Roboam ; and from these he got ready an army 
 of thirty thousand men. But when the two hosts 
 advanced, the people were instructed by the 
 words of God to abstain from fighting, for that 
 Jeroboam had received the kingdom by divine 
 appointment. Thus the army disdained the 
 command of the king, and dispersed, while the 
 power of Jeroboam was increased. But, since 
 Roboam held Jerusalem, where the people had 
 been accustomed to offer sacrifice to God in the 
 temple built by Solomon, Jeroboam, fearing lest 
 their religious feelings might alienate the people 
 from him, resolved to fill their minds with super- 
 stition. Accordingly, he set up one golden calf 
 at Bethel, and another at Dan, to which the 
 people might offer sacrifice ; and, passing by the 
 tribe of Levi, he appointed priests from among 
 the people. But censure followed this guilt 
 so hateful to God. Frequent battles then took 
 place between the kings, and so they retained 
 their respective kingdoms on doubtful condi- 
 tions. Roboam died at the close of the seven- 
 teenth year of his reign. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 In his room Abiud his son held the kingdom 
 at Jerusalem for six years, although he is said in 
 the Chronicles l to have reigned three years. 
 Asab his son succeeded him, being the fifth 
 from David, as he was his great-great-grandson. 
 He was a pious worshiper of God ; for, de- 
 stroying the altars and the groves of the idols, he 
 removed the traces of his father's faithlessness. 
 He formed an alliance with die king of Syria, 
 and by his help inflicted much loss on the king- 
 dom of Jeroboam, which was then held by his 
 son, and often, after conquering the enemy, 
 carried off spoil as the result of victory. After 
 forty-one years he died, afflicted with disease in 
 his feet. To him sin of a three-fold kind is 
 ascribed ; first, that he trusted too much to his 
 alliance with the king of Syria ; secondly, that 
 he cast into prison a prophet of God who 
 rebuked him for this ; and thirdly, that, when 
 suffering from disease in his feet, he sought a 
 remedy, not from God, but from the physicians. 
 In the beginning of his reign died Jeroboam, 
 king of the ten tribes, and left his throne to his 
 son Nabath. He, from his wicked works, and, 
 both by his own and his 2 father's doings, hateful 
 to God, did not possess the kingdom more than 
 two years, and his children, as being unworthy, 
 
 1 The Chronictm of Eusebius is referred to. 
 
 2 Many editors here read " maternis," instead of " paternis." 
 
 were deprived"' of the government. He had 
 for his successor Baasa, the son of Achia, and 
 he proved himself equally estranged from God. 
 He died in the twenty-sixth year of his reign : 
 and his power passed to Ela his son, but was 
 not retained more than two years. For Zam- 
 bri, leader of his cavalry, killed him at a ban- 
 quet, and seized the kingdom, — a man equally 
 odious to God and men. A portion of the 
 people revolted from him, and the royal power 
 was conferred on one Thamnis. But Zambri 
 reigned before him seven years, and at the same 
 time with him twelve years. And, on the death 
 of Asab, Josaphat his son began to reign over 
 part of the tribe of Judah, a man deservedly 
 famous for his pious virtues. He lived at peace 
 with Zambri ; and he died, after a reign of 
 twenty-five years. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 In the time of his reign, Ahab, the son of 
 Ambri, was king of the ten tribes, impious above 
 all against God. For having taken in marriage 
 Jezebel, the daughter of Basa, king of Sidon, he 
 erected an altar and groves to the idol Bahal, 
 and slew the prophets of God. At this time, 
 Elijah the prophet by prayer shut up heaven, 
 that it should not give any rain to the earth, and 
 revealed that to the king, in order that he, in 
 his impiety, might know himself to be the cause 
 of the evil. The waters of heaven, therefore, 
 being restrained, and since the whole country, 
 burned up by the heat of the sun, did not 
 furnish food either for man or beast, the prophet 
 had even exposed himself to the side of perish- 
 ing from hunger. At that time, when he betook 
 himself to the desert, he depended for life on 
 the ravens furnishing him with food, while a 
 neighboring rivulet furnished him with water, 
 until it was dried up. Then, being instructed 
 by God, he went to the town of Saraptas, and 
 turned aside to lodge with a widow-woman. 
 And when, in his hunger, he begged food from 
 her, she complained that she had only a handful 
 of meal and a little oil, on the consumption of 
 which she expected death along with her chil- 
 dren. 1 But when Elijah promised in the words 
 of God that neither should the meal lessen in 
 the barrel nor the oil in the vessel, the woman 
 did not hesitate to believe the prophet demand- 
 ing faith, and obtained - the fulfillment of what 
 was promised, since by daily increase as much 
 
 3 It is remarkable, as Hornius has observed after Ligonius, that, 
 while in the kingdom of Judah the sovereignty remained in the 
 same family, in the kingdom of Ephraim the scepter was hardly 
 ever transmitted to son or grandson. 
 
 1 "Cum filiis": after the Greek; the Hebrew text speaks of 
 only one son. 
 
 - Such seems clearly to be the meaning of the somewhat strange 
 phrase, " promissorum fidem consecuta est." 
 
9 2 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 was added as was day by day taken away. At 
 the same time, Elijah restored to life the dead 
 son of the same widow. Then, by the command 
 of God, he went to the king, and having re- 
 proved his impiety, he ordered all the people to 
 be gathered together to himself. When these 
 had hastily assembled, the priests of the idols 
 and of the groves to the number of about four 
 hundred and fifty, were also summoned. Then 
 there arose a dispute between them, Elijah set- 
 ting forth the honor of God, while they upheld 
 their own superstitions. At length they agreed 
 that a trial should be made to this effect, that, 
 if fire sent down from heaven should consume 
 the slain victim of either of them, that religion 
 should be accepted as the true one which per- 
 formed the miracle. Accordingly, the priests, 
 having slain a calf, began to call upon the idol 
 Bahal ; and, after wasting their invocations to 
 no purpose, they tacitly acknowledged the help- 
 lessness of their God. Then Elijah mocked 
 them and said, " Cry aloud more vehemently, 
 lest perchance he sleeps, and that thus you may 
 rouse him from the slumber in which he is sunk." 
 The wretched men could do nothing but shudder 
 and mutter to themselves, but still they waited 
 to see what Elijah would do. Well, he slew a 
 calf and laid it upon the altar, having first of all 
 filled the sacred place with water ; and then, 
 calling upon the name of the Lord, fire fell from 
 heaven in the sight of all, and consumed alike 
 the water and the victim. Then truly the peo- 
 ple, casting themselves upon the earth, confessed 
 God and execrated the idols ; while finally, by 
 the command of Elijah, the impious priests were 
 seized, and, being brought down to the brook, 
 were there slain. The prophet followed the 
 king as he returned from that place ; but as 
 Jezebel, the wife of the king, was devising means 
 for taking his life, he retired to a more remote 
 spot. There God addressed him, telling him 
 that there were still seven thousand men who 
 had not given themselves up to idols. That was 
 to Elijah a marvelous statement, for he had 
 supposed that he himself was the only one who 
 had kept free from impiety. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 At that time, Ahab, king of Samaria, coveted 
 the vineyard of Naboth, which was adjacent to 
 his own. And as Naboth was unwilling to sell 
 it to him, he was cut off by the wiles of Jezebel. 
 Thus Ahab got possession of the vineyard, 
 though he is said at the same time to have 
 regretted the death of Naboth. Acknowledging 
 his crime, he is related to have done 1 penance 
 clothed in sackcloth ; and in this wav he turned 
 
 Egisse paenitentiam." 
 
 aside threatening punishment. For the king of 
 Syria with a great army, having formed a military 
 confederacy with thirty-two kings, entered the 
 territories of Samaria, and began to besiege the 
 city with its king. The affairs of the besieged 
 being then in a state of great distress, the Syrian 
 king offers these conditions in the war, — if they 
 should give up their gold and silver and women, 
 he would spare their lives. But, with such in- 
 iquitous conditions offered, it seemed better to 
 suffer the greatest extremities. And now when 
 the safety of all was despaired of, a prophet sent 
 by God went to the king, encouraged him to 
 go forth to battle, and when he hesitated, 
 strengthened his confidence in many ways. Ac- 
 cordingly making a sally, the enemy were routed, 
 and an abundant store of booty was secured. 
 But; after a year, the Syrian king returned with 
 recruited strength into Samaria, burning to 
 avenge the defeat he had received, but was 
 again overthrown. In that battle one hundred 
 and twenty thousand of the Syrians perished ; 
 the king was pardoned, and his kingdom and 
 former position were granted him. Then Ahab 
 was reproved by the prophet in the words of 
 God, for having abused the divine kindness, and 
 spared the enemy delivered up to him. The 
 Syrian king, therefore, after three years, made 
 war upon the Hebrews. Against him Ahab, 
 under the advice of some false prophet, went 
 forth to battle, having spurned the words of 
 Michea the prophet and cast him into prison, 
 because the prophet had warned him that the 
 fight would prove disastrous to him. Thus, 
 then, Ahab, being slain in that battle, left the 
 kingdom to his son Ochozia. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 He being sick in body, and having sent some 
 of his servants to consult an idol about his 
 recovery, Elijah, as instructed by God, met them 
 in the way, and, after rebuking them ordered 
 them to inform the king that his death would 
 follow from that disease. Then the king 
 ordered him to be seized and brought into his 
 presence, but those who were sent for this pur- 
 pose were consumed by fire from heaven. The 
 king died, as the prophet had predicted. To 
 him there succeeded his brother Joram ; and he 
 held the government for the space of twelve 
 years. But on the side of the two tribes, Josa- 
 phat the king having died, Joram his son pos- 
 sessed the kingdom for eighteen years. He had 
 the daughter of Ahab to wife, and proved him- 
 self more like his father-in-law than his father. 
 After him, Ochozias his son obtained the king- 
 dom. During his reign, Elijah is related to have 
 been taken up to heaven. At the same time, 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 93 
 
 Elisha his disciple showed himself powerful by 
 working many miracles, which are all too well 
 known to need any description from my pen. By 
 him the son of a widow was restored to life, a 
 leper of Syria was cleansed, at a time of famine 
 abundance of all things was brought into the city 
 by the enemy having been put to flight, water 
 was furnished for the use of three armies, and 
 from a little oil the debt of a woman was paid 
 by the oil being immensely multiplied, and suffi- 
 cient means for a livelihood was provided for 
 herself. In his times, as we have said, Ochozia 
 was king of the two tribes, while Joram, as we 
 have related above, ruled over the ten ; and an 
 alliance was formed between them. For war 
 was carried on by them with combined forces 
 both against the Syrians/and against Jeu, who 
 had been anointed by the prophet as king of 
 the ten tribes ; and having gone forth to battle 
 in company, they both perished in the same 
 fight. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 But Jeu possessed the kingdom of Joram. 
 After the death of Ochozia in Judaea, when he 
 had reigned one year, his mother, Gotholiah, 
 seized the supreme power, having deprived her 
 grandson (whose name was Joas) of the gov- 
 ernment, he being at the time but a little child. 
 But the power thus snatched from him by his 
 grandmother was, after eight years, restored to 
 him through means of the priests and people, 
 while his grandmother was driven into exile. 
 He, at the beginning of his reign, was most de- 
 voted to the divine worship, and embellished 
 the temple at great expense ; afterwards, how- 
 ever, being corrupted by the flattery of the 
 chief men, and unduly honored by them, he 
 incurred wrath. For Azahel, king of Syria, 
 made war upon him ; and, as things went badly 
 with him, he purchased peace with the gold of 
 the temple. He did not, however, obtain it ; 
 but through resentment for what he had done, 
 he was slain by his own people in the fortieth 
 year of his reign. He was succeeded by his son 
 Amassia. But, on the side of the ten tribes, 
 Jeu having died, Joachas his son began to reign, 
 displeasing to God on account of his wicked 
 works, in punishment of which his kingdom was 
 ravaged by the Syrians, until, through the mercy 
 of God, the enemy was driven back, and the 
 inhabitants of the land began to occupy their 
 former position. Joachas, having ended his 
 days, left the kingdom to his son Joa. He 
 raised civil war against Amassia, king of the two 
 tribes ; and, having obtained the victory, con- 
 veyed much spoil into his own kingdom. That 
 is related to have occurred to Amassia as a 
 
 punishment of his sin, for, having entered as 
 a conqueror the territories of the Idumaeans, he 
 had adopted the idols of that nation. He is 
 described as having reigned nine years, so far 
 as I find it stated in the Books of Kings. But 
 in the Chronicles ' of Scripture, as well as in the 
 Chronicles 2 of Eusebius, he is affirmed to have 
 held the government twenty-nine years ; and 
 the mode of reckoning which may easily be 
 perceived in these Books of Kings undoubtedly 
 leads to that conclusion. For Jeroboam is said 
 to have begun to reign as king of the ten tribes 
 in the eighth year of the reign of Amassia, and 
 to have held the government forty-one years, 
 and to have at length died in the fourth year of 
 the reign of Ozia, son of Amassia. By this mode 
 of reckoning, the reign of Amassia is made to 
 extend over twenty-eight years. Accordingly, 
 we, following out this, inasmuch as it is our pur- 
 pose to adhere in this work to the dates in their 
 proper order, have accepted the authority of the 
 Chronicles. 3 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 Ozias, then, the son of Amassia, succeeded to 
 him. For, on the side of the ten tribes, Joas, 
 reaching the end of his days, had given place to 
 his son Jeroboa, and after him, again, his son 
 Zacharias began to reign. Of these kings, and 
 of all who ruled over Samaria on the side of the 
 ten tribes, we have not thought it necessary to 
 note the dates, because, aiming at brevity, we 
 have omitted everything superfluous ; and we 
 have thought that the years should be carefully 
 traced for a knowledge especially of the times 
 of that portion J of the Jews, which being carried 
 into captivity at a later period than the other, 
 passed through a longer time as a kingdom. 
 Ozias, then, having obtained the kingdom of 
 Judah, gave his principal care to knowing the 
 Lord, making great use of Zachariah the prophet 
 (Isaiah, too, is said to have first prophesied 
 under this king) ; and, on this account, he 
 carried on war against his neighbors with de- 
 servedly prosperous results, while he also con- 
 quered the Arabians. And already he had 
 shaken Egypt with the terror of his name ; but, 
 being elated by prosperity, he ventured on what 
 was forbidden, and offered incense to God, a 
 thing which it was the established custom for 
 the priests alone to do. Being, then, rebuked 
 by Azaria the priest, and compelled to leave the 
 sacred place, he burst out into a rage, but was, 
 when he finally withdrew, covered with leprosy. 
 Under the influence of this disease he ended his 
 
 1 " Paralipomenis." 
 
 2 " Chronicis," i.e. of Eusebius. 
 
 3 " Chronicorum," i.e. of Eusebius. 
 
 1 There is a reference in these words to the two tribes, or kingdom 
 of Judah. 
 
94 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 days, after having reigned fifty-two years. Then 
 tne kingdom was given to Joathas his son ; and 
 he is related to have been very pious, and carried 
 on the government with success : he subdued in 
 war the nation of the Ammonites, and compelled 
 them to pay tribute. He reigned sixteen years, 
 and his son Achaz succeeded him. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 The remarkable faith of the Ninevites is re- 
 lated to have been manifested about these times. 
 That town, founded of old by Assure, the son 
 of Sem, was the capital of the kingdom of the 
 Assyrians. It was then full of a multitude of 
 inhabitants, sustaining one hundred and twenty 
 thousand men, and abounding in wickedness, as 
 is usually the case among a vast concourse of 
 people. God, moved by their sinfulness, com- 
 manded the prophet Jonah to go from Judaea, 
 and denounce destruction upon the city, as 
 Sodom and Gomorrah had of old been con- 
 sumed by fire from heaven. But the prophet 
 declined that office of preaching, not out of 
 contumacy, but from foresight, which enabled 
 him to behold God reconciled through the re- 
 pentance of the people ; and he embarked on 
 board a ship which was bound for Tharsus, in a 
 very different direction. But, after they had 
 gone forth into the deep, the sailors, constrained 
 by the violence of the sea, inquired by means 
 of the lot who was the cause of that suffering. 
 And when the lot fell upon Jonah, he was cast 
 into the sea, to be, as it were, a sacrifice for 
 stilling the tempest, and he was seized and 
 swallowed by a whale — a monster of the deep. 
 Cast out three days afterwards on the shores of 
 the x Ninevites, he preached as he had been 
 commanded, namely that the city would be 
 destroyed in three 2 days, as a punishment for 
 the sins of the people. The voice of the prophet 
 was listened to, not in a hypocritical fashion, as 
 at Sodom of old ; and immediately by the order, 
 and after the example, of the king, the whole 
 people, and even those infants newly born, are 
 commanded to abstain from meat and drink : 
 the very beasts of burden in the place, and 
 animals of different kinds, being forced by 
 hunger and thirst, presented an appearance of 
 those who lamented along with the human in- 
 habitants. In this way, the threatened evil was 
 averted. To Jonah, complaining to God, that 
 his words had not been fulfilled, it was answered 
 that pardon could never be denied to the peni- 
 tent. 
 
 1 Surely a blunder; for, as has been well asked, how could Jonah, 
 who was swallowed by a whale in the Mediterranean, have been cast 
 out by the fish on the shores of the Ninevites? The Hebrew text 
 has simply " the dryland." 
 
 2 After the Greek; the Hebrew has " forty days." 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 But in Samaria, Zacharia the king, who was 
 very wicked, and whom we have spoken of 
 above as occupying the throne, was slain by a 
 certain Sella, who seized the kingdom. He, in 
 turn, perished by the treachery of Mane, who 
 simply repeated the conduct of his predecessor. 
 Mane held the government which he had taken 
 from Sella, and left it to his son Pache. But a 
 certain person of the same name slew Pache, 
 and seized the kingdom. Ere long being cut off 
 by Osee, he lost the sovereignty by the same 
 crime by which he had received it. This man, 
 being ungodly beyond all the kings who had 
 preceded him, brought punishment upon himself 
 from God, and a perpetual captivity on his 
 nation. For Salmanasar, king of the Assyrians, 
 made war with him, and when conquered ren- 
 dered him tributary. But when, with secret 
 plans, he was preparing for rebellion, and had 
 asked the king of the Ethiopians, who then had 
 possession of Egypt for his assistance, Salman- 
 asar, on discovering that, cast him into prison 
 with fetters never taken off, while he destroyed 
 the city, and carried off the whole people into 
 his own kingdom, Assyrians being placed in the 
 enemy's country to guard it. Hence that district 
 was called Samaria, because in the language of 
 the Assyrians guards are called Samaritse. 1 Very 
 many of their settlers accepted the divine rite* 
 of the Jewish religion, while others remained in 
 the errors of heathenism. In this war, Tobias 
 was carried into captivity. But on the side of 
 the two tribes, Achaz, who was displeasing to God 
 on account of his impiety, finding he had fre- 
 quently the worst of it in wars with his neigh- 
 bors, resolved to worship the gods of the 
 heathen, undoubtedly because by their help his 
 enemies had proved victorious in frequent 
 battles. He ended his days with this crime 2 in 
 his wicked mind, after a reign of sixteen years. 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 To him succeeded Ezekias his son, a man 
 very unlike his father in character. For, in the 
 beginning of his reign, urging the people and the 
 priests to the worship of God, he discoursed to 
 them in many words, showing how often, after 
 being chastened by the Lord, they had obtained 
 mercy, and how the ten tribes, having been at 
 last carried away into captivity, as had lately 
 happened, were now paying the penalty of their 
 impiety. He added that their duty was care- 
 fully to be on their guard lest they should de- 
 serve to suffer the same things. Thus, the 
 
 1 Vorstius remarks that this is a totally erroneous statement. 
 
 2 " Piaculo": a very old meaning is here attached to the word. 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 95 
 
 minds of all being turned to religion, he ap- 
 pointed the Levites and all the priests to offer 
 sacrifices according to the law, and arranged 
 that the Passover, which had for a long time 
 been neglected, should be celebrated. And 
 when the holy day was at hand, he proclaimed 
 the special day of assembly by messengers sent 
 throughout all the land, so that, if any had 
 remained in Samaria, after the removal of the 
 ten tribes, they might gather together for the 
 sacred observance. Thus, in a very full assem- 
 blage, the sacred day was spent with public 
 rejoicing, and, after a long interval, the proper 
 religious rites were restored by means of Ezekias. 
 He then carried on military affairs with the 
 same diligence with which he had attended to 
 divine things, and defeated the Philistines in 
 frequent battles ; until Sennacherim, king of the 
 Assyrians, made war against him, having entered 
 his territories with a large army ; and then, when 
 the country had been laid waste without any 
 opposition, he laid siege to the city. For Eze- 
 kias, being inferior in numbers, did not venture 
 to come to an engagement with him, but kept 
 himself safe within the walls. The king of 
 Assyria, thundering at the gates, threatened de- 
 struction, and demanded surrender, exclaiming 
 that in vain did Ezekias put his trust in God, for 
 that he rather had taken up arms by the appoint- 
 ment of God ; and that the conqueror of all 
 nations, as well as the overthrower of Samaria, 
 could not be escaped, unless the king secured 
 his own safety by a speedy surrender. In this 
 state of affairs, Ezekias, trusting in God, con- 
 sulted the prophet Isaiah, and from his answer 
 he learned that there would be no danger from 
 the enemy, and that the divine assistance would 
 not fail him. And, in fact, not long after, 
 Tarraca, king of Ethiopia, invaded the kingdom 
 of the Assyrians. 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 By this news Sennacherim was led to return 
 in order to defend his own territories, and he 
 gave up the war, at the same time murmuring 
 and crying out that victory was snatched from 
 him the victor. He also sent letters to Ezekias, 
 declaring, with many insulting words, that he, 
 after settling his own affairs, would speedily 
 return for the destruction of Judsea. But Eze- 
 kias, in no wise disturbed by these threats, is 
 said to have prayed to God that he would not 
 allow the so great insolence of this man to pass 
 unavenged. Accordingly, in the same night, 
 an angel attacking the camp of the Assyrians, 
 caused 1 the death of many thousand men. The 
 
 1 Our author is here guilty of omission and consequent inaccu- 
 racy. Comp. Isa. chap. 37. 
 
 king in terror fled to the town of Nineveh, and 
 being there slain by his sons, met with an end 
 worthy of himself. At the same time, Ezekias, 
 sick in body, lay suffering from disease. And 
 when Isaiah had announced to him in the words 
 of the Lord that the end of his life was at hand, 
 the king is related to have wept ; and thus he 
 got fifteen years added to his life. These com- 
 ing to an end, he died in the twenty-ninth year 
 of his reign, and left the kingdom to his son 
 Manasse. He, degenerating much from his 
 father, forsook God, and took to the practice of 
 impious worship ; and being, as a punishment 
 for this, delivered into the power of the Assyr- 
 ians, he was by his sufferings constrained to 
 acknowledge his error, and exhorted the people 
 that, forsaking their idols, they should worship 
 God. He accomplished nothing worthy of 
 special mention, but reigned for fifty-five years. 
 Then Amos his son obtained the kingdom, but 
 possessed it only two years. He was the heir 
 of his father's impiety, and showed himself re- 
 gardless of God : being entrapped by some 
 stratagems of his friends, he perished. 
 
 CHAPTER LIE 
 
 The government then passed to his son Josia. 
 He is related to have been very pious, and to 
 have attended to divine things with the utmost 
 care, profiting largely by the aid of the priest 
 Helchia. Having read a book written with the 
 words of God, and which had been found in 
 the temple by the priest, in which it was stated 
 that the Hebrew nation would be destroyed on 
 account of their frequent acts of impiety and 
 sacrilege, by his pious supplications to God, 
 and constant tears, he averted the impending 
 overthrow. When he learned through Olda the 
 prophetess that this favor was granted him, he 
 then with still greater care set himself to prac- 
 tice the worship of God, inasmuch as he was 
 now under obligation to the divine goodness. 
 Accordingly, he burned all the vessels which 
 had by the superstitions of former kings been 
 consecrated to idols. For to such a height had 
 profane observances prevailed, that they used to 
 pay divine honors to the sun and moon, and 
 even erected shrines made of metal to these 
 fancied deities. Josia reduced these to powder, 
 and also slew the priests of the profane temples. 
 He did not even spare the tombs of the im- 
 pious ; and it was observed that thus was ful- 
 filled what had of old been predicted by the 
 prophet. In the eighteenth year of his reign, 
 the Passover was celebrated. And about three 
 years afterwards, having gone forth to battle 
 against Nechao, king of Egypt, who was making 
 war upon the Assyrians, before the armies prop- 
 
g6 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 erly engaged, he was wounded by an arrow. 
 And being carried back to the city, he died of 
 that wound, after he had reigned twenty and one 
 years. 
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 Joachas, his son, having then obtained the 
 kingdom, held it for three months, being doomed 
 to captivity on account of his impiety. For 
 Nechao, king of Egypt, bound him and led him 
 away captive, and not long after, while still a 
 prisoner, he ended his days. An annual tribute 
 was demanded of the Jews, and a king was given 
 them at the will of the victor. His name was 
 Eliakim, but he afterwards changed it to Joa- 
 chim. He was the brother of Joacha, and the 
 son of Josia, but liker his brother than his father, 
 displeasing God by his impiety. Accordingly, 
 while he was in subjection to the king of Egypt, 
 and in token thereof paid him tribute, Na- 
 buchodonosor, the king of Babylon, seized the 
 land of Judaea, and as victor held it by the right 
 of war for three years. For the king of Egypt 
 now giving way, and the boundaries of their 
 empire being fixed between them, it had been 
 agreed that the Jews should belong to Babylon. 
 Thus after Joachim, having finished his reign of 
 eleven years, had given place to his son of the 
 same name, and he had excited against himself 
 the wrath of the king of Babylon (God undoubt- 
 edly overruling everything, having resolved to 
 give the nation of the Jews up to captivity and 
 destruction), Nabuchodonosor entered Jerusa- 
 lem with an army, and leveled the walls and the 
 temple to the ground. He also carried off an 
 immense amount of gold, with sacred ornaments 
 either public or private, and all of mature age 
 both of the male and female sex, those only 
 being left behind whose weakness or age caused 
 trouble to the conquerors. This useless crowd 
 had the task assigned them of working and cul- 
 tivating the fields in slavery, in order that the 
 soil might not be neglected. Over them a king 
 called Sedechias was appointed ; but while the 
 empty shadow of the name of king was allowed 
 him, all real power was taken away. Joachim, 
 for his part, possessed the sovereignty only for 
 three months. He was carried away, along with 
 the people, to Babylon, and was there thrown 
 into prison ; but being, after a period of thirty 
 years released, while he was admitted by the 
 king to his friendship, and made a partaker with 
 him at his table and in his counsels, he died at 
 last, not without some consolation in that his 
 misfortunes had been removed. 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 Meanwhile Sedechias, the king of the useless 
 multitude, although without power, being of an 
 unfaithful disposition and neglectful of God, 
 and not understanding that captivity had been 
 brought upon them on account of the sins of the 
 nation, becoming at length ripe for suffering the 
 last evils he could endure, offended the mind of 
 the king. Accordingly, after a period of nine 
 years, Nabuchodonosor made war against him, 
 and having forced him to flee within the walls, 
 besieged him for three years. At this time, he 
 consulted Jeremia the prophet, who had already 
 often proclaimed that captivity impended over 
 the city, to discover if perhaps there might still 
 be some hope. But he, not ignorant of the 
 anger of heaven, having frequently had the same 
 question put to him, at length gave an answer, 
 denouncing special punishment upon the king. 
 Then Sedechias, roused to resentment, ordered 
 the prophet to be thrust into prison. Ere long, 
 however, he regretted this cruel act, but, as the 
 chief men of the Jews (whose practice it had 
 been even from the beginning to afflict the 
 righteous) opposed him, he did not venture to 
 release the innocent man. Under coercion from 
 the same persons, the prophet was let down 
 into a pit 1 of great depth, and which was dis- 
 gusting from its filth and squalor, while a deadly 
 stench issued from it. This was done that he 
 might not simply die by a common death. But 
 the king, impious though he was, yet showed 
 himself somewhat more merciful than the priests, 
 and ordered the prophet to be taken out of the 
 pit, and restored to the safekeeping of the prison. 
 In the meantime the force of the enemy and 
 want began to press the besieged hard, and 
 everything being consumed that could be eaten, 
 famine took a firm hold of them. Thus, its de- 
 fenders being worn out with want of food, the 
 town was taken and burnt. The king, as the 
 prophet had declared, had his eyes put out, and 
 was carried away to Babylon, while Jeremia, 
 through the mercy of the enemy, was taken out 
 of his prison. When Nabuzardan, one of the 
 royal princes, was leading him away captive with 
 the rest, the choice was granted by him to the 
 prophet, either to remain in his deserted and 
 desolated native country, or to go along with 
 him in the possession of the highest honors ; 
 and Jeremia preferred to abide in his native 
 land. Nabuchodonosor, having carried away 
 the people, appointed as governor over those 
 left behind by the conquerors (either from the 
 circumstances attending the war, or from an ab- 
 solute weariness of accumulating spoil) Godolia, 
 who belonged to the same nation. He gave 
 
 1 " Lacum," as once before. 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 97 
 
 him, however, no royal ensign, or even the name 
 of governor, because there was really no honor 
 in ruling over these few wretched persons. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The times of the captivity have been rendered 
 illustrious by the predictions and deeds of the 
 prophets, and especially by the remarkable per- 
 sistency of Daniel in upholding the law, and by 
 the deliverance of Susanna through the divine 
 wisdom, as well as by the other things which it 
 accomplished, and which we shall now relate in 
 their order. Daniel was made a prisoner under 
 King Joachim, and was brought to Babylon, 
 while still a very little child. Afterwards, on 
 account of the beauty of his countenance, he 
 had a place given him among the king's servants, 
 and along with, him, Annanias, Misael, and Aza- 
 rias. But, when the king had ordered them to 
 be supplied with the finer kinds of food, and 
 had imposed it as a duty on Asphane the eunuch 
 to attend to that matter, Daniel, mindful of the 
 traditions of his fathers which forbade him to 
 partake of food from the table of a king of the 
 Gentiles, begged of the eunuch to be allowed 
 to use a diet of pulse only. Asphane objected 
 that the leanness which would follow might reveal 
 the fact that the king's commandment had been 
 disobeyed ; but Daniel, putting his trust in God, 
 promised that he would have greater beauty of 
 countenance from living on pulse than from the 
 use of the king's dainties. And his words were 
 made good, so that the faces of those who were 
 cared for at the public expense were regarded 
 as by no means comparable to those of Daniel 
 and his friends. Accordingly, being promoted 
 by the king to honor and favor, they were, in a 
 short time, by their prudence and wise conduct, 
 preferred to all those that stood nearest to the 
 king. About the same time, Susanna, the wife 
 of a certain man called Joachis, a woman of 
 remarkable beauty, was desired by two elders, 
 and, when she would not listen to their unchaste 
 proposals, was assailed by a false accusation. 
 These elders reported that a young man was 
 found with her in a retired place, but escaped 
 their hands by his youthful nimbleness, while 
 they were enfeebled with age. Credit, accord- 
 ingly, was given to these elders, and Susanna 
 was condemned by the sentence of the people. 
 And, as she was being led away to punishment 
 according to the law, Daniel, who was then 
 twelve years old, after having rebuked the Jews 
 for delivering the innocent to death, demanded 
 that she should be brought back to trial, and 
 
 that her cause should be heard afresh. For the 
 multitude of the Jews who were then present, 
 thought that a boy of an age so little command- 
 ing respect, had not ventured to take such a 
 bold step without a divine impulse, and, granting 
 him the favor which was asked, returned anew 
 to council. The trial, then, is entered upon 
 once more ; and Daniel was allowed to take his 
 place among the elders. Upon this, he orders 
 the two accusers to be separated from each 
 other., and inquires of each of them in turn, 
 under what kind of a tree he had discovered the 
 adulteress. From the difference of answers 
 which they gave, their falsehood was detected : 
 Susanna was acquitted ; and the elders, who had 
 brought the innocent into danger, were con- 
 demned to death. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 At that time, Nabuchodonosor had a dream 
 marvelous for that insight 1 into the future which 
 it implied. As he could not of himself bring 
 out its interpretation, he sent for the Chaldseans 
 who were supposed by magic arts and by the 
 entrails of victims to know secret things, and to 
 predict the future, in order to its interpretation. 
 Presently becoming apprehensive lest, in the 
 usual manner of men, they should extract from 
 the dream not what was true, but what would 
 be acceptable to the king, he suppresses the 
 things he had seen, and demands of them that, 
 if a real power of divination was in them, they 
 should relate to him the dream itself; saying 
 that he would then believe their interpretation,- 
 if they should first make proof of their skill by 
 relating the dream. But they declined attempt- 
 ing so great a difficulty, and confessed that such 
 a thing was not within the reach of human 
 power. The king, enraged because, under a 
 false profession of divination, they were mocking 
 men with their errors, while they were compelled 
 by the present case to acknowledge that they 
 had no such knowledge as was pretended, made 
 an exposure of them by means of a royal edict ; 
 and all the men professing that art were publicly 
 put to death. When Daniel heard of that, he 
 spoke to one of those nearest to the king, and 
 promised to give an account of the dream, as 
 well as supply its interpretation. The thing is 
 reported to the king, and Daniel is sent for. 
 The mystery had already been revealed to him 
 by God j and so he relates the vision of the 
 king, as well as interprets it. But this matter 
 demands that we set forth the dream of the 
 king and its interpretation, along with the fulfill- 
 ment of his words by what followed. The king, 
 
 1 " mysterio futurorum mirabile." 
 
98 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 then, had seen in his sleep an image with a 
 head of gold, with a breast and arms of silver, 
 with a belly and thighs of brass, with legs of 
 iron, and which in its feet ended partly with iron, 
 and partly with clay. But the iron and the clay 
 when blended together could not adhere to each 
 other. At last, a stone cut out without hands 
 broke the image to pieces, and the whole, being 
 reduced to dust, was carried away by the wind. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Accordingly, as the prophet interpreted the 
 matter, the image which was seen furnished a 
 representation of the world. The golden head 
 is the empire of the Chaldseans ; for we have 
 understood that it was the first and wealthiest. 
 The breast and the arms of silver represent the 
 second kingdom ; for Cyrus, after the Chaldse- 
 ans and the Medes were conquered, conferred 
 the empire on the Persians. In the brazen 
 belly it is said that the third sovereignty was 
 indicated ; and we see that this was fulfilled, for 
 Alexander took the empire from the Persians, 
 and won the sovereignty for the Macedonians. 
 The iron legs point to a fourth power, and that 
 is understood of the Roman empire, which is 
 more powerful 1 than all the kingdoms which 
 were before it. But the fact that the feet were 
 partly of iron and partly clay, indicates that the 
 Roman empire is to be divided, so as never to 
 be united. This, too, has been fulfilled, for the 
 Roman state is ruled not by one emperor but 
 by several, and these are always quarreling 
 among themselves, either in actual warfare or 
 by factions. Finally, by the clay and the iron 
 being mixed together, yet never in their sub- 
 stance thoroughly uniting, are shadowed forth 
 those future mixtures of the human race which 
 disagree among themselves, though apparently 
 combined. For it is obvious that the Roman 
 territory is occupied by foreign nations, or 
 rebels, or that it has been given over to those 
 who have surrendered themselves under an 
 appearance " of peace. And it is also evident 
 that barbarous nations, and especially Jews, 
 have been commingled with our armies, cities, 
 and provinces; and we thus behold them living 
 among us, yet by no means agreeing to adopt 
 our customs. And the prophets declare that 
 these are the last times. But in the stone cut 
 out without hands, which broke to pieces the 
 gold, silver, brass, iron, and clay, there is a 
 figure of Christ. For he, not born under human 
 conditions (since he was born not of the will of 
 man, but of the will of God), will reduce to 
 
 1 Such is clearly the meaning, but it is strangely expressed by 
 the words " omnibus ante regnis validissimum." 
 
 2 The text is here very uncertain and obscure. 
 
 nothing that world in which exist earthly king- 
 doms, and will establish another kingdom, 
 incorruptible and everlasting, that is, the future 
 world, which is prepared for the saints. The 
 faith of some still hesitates about this point only, 
 while they do not believe about things yet to 
 come, though they are convinced of the things 
 that are past. Daniel, then, was presented with 
 many gifts by the king, was set over Babylon 
 and the whole empire, and was held in the 
 highest honor. By his influence, Annanias, 
 Azarias, and Misael, were also advanced to the 
 highest dignity and power. About the same 
 time, the remarkable prophecies of Ezekiel 
 came out, the mystery of future things and of 
 the resurrection :i having been revealed to him. 
 His book is one of great weight, and deserves to 
 be read with care. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 But in Judaea, over which, as we have related 
 above, Godolia was set after the destruction of 
 Jerusalem, the Jews taking it very ill that a 
 ruler not of the royal race had been assigned 
 them by the mere will of the conqueror, with a 
 certain Ismael as their leader and instigator of 
 the execrable conspiracy, cut off Godolia by 
 means of treachery while he was at a banquet. 
 Those, however, who had no part in the plot, 
 wishing to take steps for avenging the deed, 
 hastily take up arms against Ismael. But when 
 he learned that destruction threatened him, 
 leaving the army which he had collected, and 
 with not more than eight companions he fled to 
 the Ammonites. Fear, therefore, fell upon the 
 whole people, lest the king of Babylon should 
 avenge the guilt of a few by the destruction of 
 all ; for, in addition to Godolia, they had slain 
 many of the Chaldseans along with him. They, 
 therefore, form a plan of fleeing into Egypt, but 
 they first go in a body to Jeremia, requesting of 
 him divine counsel. He then exhorted them 
 all in the words of God to remain in their 
 native country, telling them that if they did so, 
 they would be protected by the power of God, 
 and that no danger would accrue from the 
 Babylonians, but that, if they went into Egypt, 
 they would all perish there by sword, and 
 famine, and different kinds of death. The 
 rabble, however, with the usual evil tendency 
 they show, being unaccustomed to yield to 
 useful advice and the divine power, did go into 
 Egypt. The sacred Scriptures are silent as to 
 their future fate ; and I have not been able 
 to discover anything regarding it. 
 
 3 " resurrectionis," referring probably not to the rising again of 
 the dead, but to the restoration of the Jews. See Ezek. chap. 37. 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 99 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 At this period of time, Nabuchodonosor, 
 elated with prosperity, erected a golden statue 
 to himself of enormous size, and ordered it to 
 be worshiped as a sacred image. And when 
 this was zealously gone about by all, inasmuch 
 as their minds had been corrupted by the uni- 
 versal flattery which prevailed, Annanias, Azarias, 
 and Misael kept aloof from the profane observ- 
 ance, being well aware that that honor was due to 
 God alone. They were therefore, according to 
 an edict of the king, regarded as criminals, and 
 there was set before them, as the means of 
 punishment, a fiery furnace, in order that, by 
 present terror, they might be compelled to 
 worship the statue. But they preferred to be 
 swallowed up by the flames rather than to com- 
 mit such a sin. Accordingly, they were bound, 
 and cast into the midst of the fire. But the 
 flames laid hold of the agents in this execrable 
 work, as they were forcing, with all eagerness, the 
 victims into the fire ; while — wonderful to say, 
 and indeed incredible to all but eye-witnesses — 
 the fire did not touch the Hebrews at all. They 
 were seen by the spectators walking in the midst 
 of the furnace, and singing a song of praise to 
 God, while there was also beheld along with 
 them a fourth person having the appearance of 
 an angel, and whom Nabuchodonosor, on obtain- 
 ing a nearer view of him, acknowledged to be 
 the 1 Son of God. Then the king having no 
 doubt that the divine power was present in the 
 event which had taken place, sent proclamations 
 throughout his whole kingdom making known 
 the miracle which had taken place, and confess- 
 ing that honor was to be paid to God alone. 
 Not long after, being instructed by a vision 
 which presented itself to him, and presently also 
 by a voice which reached him from heaven, he 
 is said to have done penance by laying aside his 
 kingly power, retiring from all intercourse with 
 mankind, and to have sustained life by herbs 
 alone. However, his empire was kept for him 
 by the will of God, until the time was fulfilled, 
 and at length duly acknowledging God, he was, 
 after seven years, restored to his kingdom and 
 former position. He is related, after having 
 conquered Sedechia (whom he carried away 
 captive to Babylon), as we have said above, to 
 have reigned twenty-six years, although I do not 
 find that recorded in the sacred history. But it 
 has perhaps happened that, while I was engaged 
 in searching out many points, I found this re- 
 mark in the work of some anonymous author 
 which had become interpolated in course of 
 time, and in which the dates of the Babylonish 
 kings were contained. I did not think it risrht 
 
 1 Or, " confessed that he had seen a son of God.' 
 
 to pass the remark unnoticed, since it does in 
 fact harmonize with the Chronicles, and dius its 
 account agrees with us, to the effect that, 
 through the succession of the kings, whose dates 
 the record contained, it completed seventy years 
 up to the first year of king Cyrus, and such in 
 fact is the number of years which is stated in 
 the sacred history to have elapsed from the cap- 
 tivity up to the time of Cyrus. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 After Nabuchodonosor, the kingdom fell to 
 his son, whom I find called Euilmarodac in the 
 Chronicles. He died in the twelfth year of his 
 reign, and made room for his younger brother, 
 who was called Balthasar. He, when in the 
 fourteenth year he gave a public feast to his 
 chief men and rulers, ordered the sacred vessels 
 (which had been taken away by Nabuchodo- 
 nosor from the temple at Jerusalem, yet had not 
 been employed for any uses of the king, but 
 were kept laid up in the treasury) to be brought 
 forth. And when all persons, both of the male 
 and female sex, with his wives and concubines, 
 were using these amid the luxury and licentious- 
 ness of a royal banquet, suddenly the king ob- 
 served fingers writing upon the wall, and the 
 letters were perceived to be formed into words. 1 
 But no one could be found who was able to read 
 the writing. The king, therefore, in perturba- 
 tion called for the magi and the Chaldaeans. 
 When these simply muttered among themselves 
 and answered nothing, the queen reminded the 
 king that there was a certain Hebrew, Daniel by 
 name, who had formerly revealed to Nabucho- 
 donosor a dream containing a secret mystery, 
 and had then, on account of his remarkable wis- 
 dom, been promoted to the highest honors. 
 Accordingly, he, being sent for, read and inter- 
 preted the writing, to the effect that, on account 
 of the sin of the king, who had profaned vessels 
 sacred to God, destruction impended over him, 
 and that his kingdom was given to the Medes 
 and Persians. And this presently took place. 
 For, on the same night, Balthasar perished, and 
 Darius, a Mede by nation, took possession of his 
 kingdom. He again, finding that Daniel was 
 held in the highest reputation, placed him at 
 the head of the whole empire, in this following 
 the judgment of the kings who had preceded 
 him. For Nabuchodonosor had also set him 
 over the kidgdom, and Balthasar had presented 
 him with a purple robe and a golden chain, 
 while he also constituted him the third ruler in 
 the kin axiom. 
 
 1 "in versum ductae literae": various emendations have been 
 proposed, but the text may stand. The meaning appears to be that 
 the letters were not thrown together at random, but so placed as to 
 form words. 
 
IOO 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Those, therefore, who were possessed of power 
 along with him, stimulated by envy, because a 
 foreigner belonging to a captive nation had been 
 placed on a footing of equality with them, con- 
 strain the king, who had been corrupted by flat- 
 tery, to enact that divine honors should be paid 
 to him for the next thirty days, and that it should 
 not be lawful for any one to pray to a god except 
 the king. Darius was easily persuaded to that, 
 through the folly of all kings who claim for 
 themselves divine honors. In these circum- 
 stances, Daniel being not unacquainted with 
 what had happened, and not being ignorant that 
 prayer ought to be addressed to God, and not to 
 man, is accused of not having obeyed the king's 
 commandment. And much against the will of 
 Darius, to whom he had always been dear and 
 acceptable, the rulers prevailed that he should 
 be let down into a den. 1 But no harm came to 
 him when thus exposed to the wild beasts. And 
 on the king discovering this, he ordered his ac- 
 cusers to be given over to the lions. They, how- 
 ever, did not pass through a similar experience, 
 for they were instantly devoured to satisfy the 
 hunger of the savage beasts. Daniel, who had 
 been famous before, was now esteemed still 
 more famous ; and the king, repealing his for- 
 mer edict, issued a new one to the effect that, 
 all errors and superstitions being abandoned, the 
 God of Daniel was to be worshiped. There 
 exists also a record of visions of Daniel, in 
 which he revealed the order of events in com- 
 ing ages, embracing in them also the number of 
 the years, within which he announced that Christ 
 would descend to earth (as has taken place), 
 and clearly set forth the future coming of Anti- 
 christ. If any one is eager to inquire into these 
 points, he will find them more fully treated of in 
 the book of Daniel : our design is simply to 
 present a connected statement of events. Darius 
 is related to have reigned eighteen years ; after 
 which date Astyages began to rule over the 
 Medes. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Him Cyrus, his grandson by his daughter, ex- 
 pelled from the kingdom, having used the arms 
 of the Persians for the purpose ; and hence the 
 chief power was transferred to the Persians. 
 The Babylonians also fell under his power and 
 government. It happened at the beginning of 
 his reign that, by the issue of public edicts, he 
 gave permission to the Jews to return into their 
 own country ; and he also restored the sacred 
 
 lacum " : twice used before in the sense of ///. 
 
 vessels which Nabuchodonosor had carried away 
 from the temple at Jerusalem. Accordingly, a 
 few then returned into Judaea ; as to the others, 
 we have not been able to discover whether the 
 desire of returning, or the power of doing so, 
 was wanting. There was at that time among 
 the Babylonians a brazen image of Belus, a very 
 ancient king, whom Virgil also has mentioned. 1 
 This having been deemed sacred by the super- 
 stition of the people, Cyrus also had been ac- 
 customed to worship, being deceived by the 
 trickery of its priests. They affirmed that the 
 image ate and drank, while they themselves 
 secretly carried off the daily portion which was 
 offered to the idol. Cyrus, then, being on inti- 
 mate terms with Daniel, asked him why he did 
 not worship the image, since it was a manifest 
 symbol of the living God, as consuming those 
 things which were offered to it. Daniel, laugh- 
 ing at the mistake of the man, replied that it 
 could not possibly be the case, that that work 
 of brass — mere insensate matter — could use 
 either meat or drink. The king, therefore, or- 
 dered the priests to be called (they were about 
 seventy in number) ; and, bringing terror to 
 bear upon them, he reprovingly asked them who 
 was in the way of consuming what was offered, 
 since Daniel, a man distinguished for his wis- 
 dom, maintained that that could not be done by 
 an insensate image. Then they, trusting in their 
 ready-made trick, ordered the usual offering to 
 be made, and the temple to be sealed up by the 
 king, on the understanding that, unless on the 
 following day the whole offering were found to 
 have been consumed, they should suffer death, 
 while, on the opposite being discovered, the 
 same fate awaited Daniel. Accordingly, the 
 temple was sealed up by the signet of the king ; 
 but Daniel had previously, without the knowl- 
 edge of the priests, covered the floor of it with 
 ashes, so that their footprints might betray the 
 clandestine approaches of those who entered. 
 The king, then, having entered the temple on 
 the following day, perceived that those things 
 had been taken away, which he had ordered to 
 be served up to the idol. Then Daniel lays open 
 the secret fraud by the betraying footprints, 
 showing that the priests, with their wives and 
 children, had entered the temple by a hole 
 opened from below, and had devoured those 
 things which were served up to the idol. Ac- 
 cordingly, all of them were put to death by the 
 order of the king, while the temple and image 
 were submitted to the power of Daniel, and 
 were destroyed at his command. 
 
 1 The reference is to JEn. I. 729, but Sigonius and others have 
 suspected the words as being a gloss. They are, however, probably 
 genuine. Virgil's words are, — 
 
 " Hie regina gravem gemmis auroque poposcit 
 Implevitque mero paternam, quam Belus et omnes 
 A Belo soliti; turn facta silentia tectis." 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 IOI 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 In the meantime, those Jews, who, as we have 
 said above, returned into their native land by 
 the permission of Cyrus, attempted to restore 
 their city and temple. But, being few and poor, 
 they made but little progress, until, at last, after 
 the lapse of about a hundred years, while Arta- 
 xerxes the king ruled over the Persians, they 
 were absolutely deterred from building by those 
 who had local authority. For, at that time, 
 Syria and all Judaea was ruled under the empire 
 of the Persians by magistrates and governors. 
 Accordingly, these took counsel to write to king 
 Artaxerxes, that it was not fitting that opportu- 
 nity should be granted to the Jews of rebuilding 
 their city, lest, in accordance with their stubborn 
 character, and being accustomed to rule over 
 other nations, they should, on recovering their 
 strength, not submit to live under the sway of a 
 foreign power. Thus, the plan of the rulers 
 being approved of by the king, the building of 
 the city was put a stop to, and delayed until the 
 second year of Darius the king. But, who were 
 kings of Persia throughout this period of time, 
 we shall here insert, in order that the succession 
 of the dates may be set forth in a regular and 
 fixed order. Well, then, after Darius the Mede, 
 who, as we have said above, reigned eighteen 
 years, Cyrus held the supreme power for thirty- 
 one years. While making war upon the Scyth- 
 ians, he fell in battle, in the second year after 
 Tarquinius Superbus began to reign at Rome. 
 To Cyrus succeeded his son Cambyses, and 
 reigned eight years. He, after harassing with 
 war Egypt and Ethiopia, and subduing these 
 countries, returned as victor to Persia, but acci- 
 dentally hurt himself, and died from that wound. 
 After his death, two brothers, who were magi, 
 and Medes by nation, held rule over the Per- 
 sians for seven months. To slay these, seven 
 of the most noble of the Persians formed a con- 
 spiracy, of whom the leader was Darius, the son 
 of Hystaspes, who was a cousin of Cyrus, and 
 by unanimous consent the kingdom was bestowed 
 on him : he reigned thirty and six years. He, 
 four years before his death, fought at Marathon, 
 in a battle greatly celebrated both in Creek and 
 Roman history. That took place about the two 
 hundred and sixtieth year after the founding of 
 Rome, while Macerinus and Augurinus were 
 consuls, that is, eight hundred and eighty-eight 
 years ago, provided the research I have made 
 into the succession of Roman consuls does not 
 deceive me ; for I have made the entire reckon- 
 ing down to the time of Stilico. 1 After Darius 
 came Xerxes, and he is said to have reigned 
 twenty-one years, although I have found that 
 
 1 Stilico was consul during the lifetime of Sulpitius. 
 
 the length of his rule is, in most copies, 2 set 
 down at twenty and five years. To him suc- 
 ceeded Artaxerxes,, of whom we have made 
 mention above. Since he ordered the building 
 of the Jewish city and temple to be stopped, 
 the work was suspended to the second year of 
 king Darius. But that the succession of dates 
 may be completed up to him, I have to state 
 that Artaxerxes reigned forty-one years, Xerxes 
 two months, and that, after him, Sucdianus 
 ruled for seven months. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Next, Darius, under whom the temple was 
 restored, obtained the kingdom, his name being 
 at that time Ochus. He had three Hebrew 
 youths of tried fidelity as his body-guard, and 
 one of these had, from the proof of his prudence 
 which he had given, attracted towards himself 
 the admiration of the king. The choice, then, 
 being given him of asking for anything which 
 he had formed a desire for in his heart, groaning 
 over the ruins of his country, he begged permis- 
 sion to restore the city, and obtained an order 
 from the king to urge the lieutenants and rulers 
 to hurry forward the building of the holy temple, 
 and furnish the expense needful to that end. 
 Accordingly, the temple was completed in four 
 years ; that is, in the sixth year after Darius 
 began to reign, and that seemed, for the time, 
 enough to the people of the Jews. For, as it 
 was a work of great labor to restore the city, 
 distrusting their own resources, they did not 
 venture at the time to begin an undertaking of 
 so great difficulty, but were content with having 
 rebuilt the temple. At the same time, Esdras 
 the scribe, who was skilled in the law, about 
 twenty years after the temple had been com- 
 pleted (Darius being now dead who had pos- 
 sessed the sovereignty for nineteen years), by 
 the permission of Artaxerxes the second (not he 
 who had a place between the two Xerxes, but 
 he who had succeeded to Darius Ochus), set 
 out from Babylon with many following him, and 
 they carried to Jerusalem the vessels of various 
 workmanship, as well as the gifts which the king 
 had sent for the temple of God. Along with 
 them were but twelve Levites ; for with difficulty 
 that number of the tribe is related then to have 
 been found. He, having found that the Jews 
 had united in marriage with the Gentiles, rebuked 
 them severely on that account, and ordered 
 them to renounce all connections of that kind, 
 as well as to put away the children which had 
 been the issue of such marriages ; and all yielded 
 obedience to his word. The people, then, being 
 
 2 "in plerisque exemplaribus ": the MSS. varying, as they so 
 often do, with respect to numbers. 
 
102 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 sanctified, performed the rites sanctioned by 
 the ancient law. But I do not find that Esdras 
 did anything with the view of restoring the 
 city ; because he thought, as I imagine, that a 
 more urgent duty was to reform the people 
 from the corrupt habits which they had con- 
 tracted. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 There was at that time at Babylon one Nehe- 
 miah, a servant of the king, a Jew by birth, and 
 very much beloved by Artaxerxes on account of 
 the services he had rendered. He, having in- 
 quired of his fellow-countrymen the Jews, what 
 was the condition of their ancestral city ; and 
 having learned that his native land remained in 
 the same fallen condition as before, is said to 
 have been disturbed with all his heart, and 
 to have prayed to God with groans and many 
 tears. He also called to mind the sins of his 
 nation, and urgently entreated the divine com- 
 passion. Accordingly, the king noticing that he, 
 while waiting at table, seemed more sorrowful 
 than usual, asked him to explain the reasons of 
 his grief. Then he began to bewail the misfor- 
 tunes of his nation, and the ruin of his ancestral 
 city, which now, for almost two hundred and fifty 
 years, being leveled with the ground, furnished 
 a proof of the evils which had been endured, 
 and a gazing-stock to their enemies. He there- 
 fore begged the king to grant him the liberty 
 of going and restoring it. The king yielded to 
 these dutiful entreaties, and immediately sent 
 him away with a guard Of cavalry, that he might 
 the more safely accomplish his journey, giving 
 him, at the same time, letters to the rulers re- 
 questing them to furnish him with all that was 
 necessary. When he arrived at Jerusalem, he 
 distributed the work connected with the city to 
 the people, man by man ; and all vied with each 
 other in carrying out the orders which they 
 received. And already the work of rebuilding l 
 had been half accomplished, when the jealousy 
 of the surrounding heathen burst out, and the 
 neighboring cities conspired to interrupt the 
 works, and to deter the Jews from building. 
 But Nehemiah, having stationed guards against 
 those making assaults upon the people, was in 
 no degree alarmed, and carried out what he 
 had begun. And thus, after the wall was com- 
 pleted, and the entrances of the gates finished, 
 he measured out the city for the construction 
 by families of houses within it. He reckoned, 
 also, that the people were not adequate in num- 
 bers to the size of the city ; for there were not 
 more of them than fiftv thousand of both sexes 
 
 1 " jamque ad medium machinae processerant." 
 
 and of all ranks — to such an extent had their 
 formerly enormous numbers been reduced by 
 frequent wars, and by the multitude kept in 
 captivity. For, of old, those two tribes, of 
 whom the remaining people were all that sur- 
 vived, had, when the ten tribes were separated 
 from them, be-en able to furnish three hundred 
 and twenty thousand armed men. But being 
 given up by God, on account of their sin, to 
 death and captivity, they had sunk down to the 
 miserably small number which they now pre- 
 sented. This company, however, as I have 
 said, consisted only of the two tribes : the ten 2 
 which had previously been carried away being 
 scattered among the Parthians, Medes, Indians, 
 and Ethiopians never returned to their native 
 country, and are to this day held under the 
 sway of barbarous nations. But the completion 
 of the restored city is related to have been 
 effected in the thirty-second year of the reign 
 of Artaxerxes. From that time to the crucifixion 
 of Christ ; that is, to the time when Fufius Gem- 
 inus and Rubellius were consuls, there elapsed 
 three hundred and ninety and eight years. But 
 from the restoration of the temple to its de- 
 struction, which was completed by Titus under 
 Vespasian, when Augustus was consul, there was 
 a period of four hundred and eighty-three years. 
 That was formerly predicted by Daniel, who 
 announced that from the restoration of the 
 temple to its overthrow there would elapse 
 seventy and nine weeks. Now, from the date 
 of the captivity of the Jews until the time of the 
 restoration of the city, there were two hundred 
 and sixty years. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 At this period of time we think Esther and 
 Judith lived, but I confess that I cannot easily 
 perceive with what kings especially I should 
 connect the actions of their lives. For, while 
 Esther is said to have lived under King Arta- 
 xerxes, I find that there were two Persian kings 
 of that name, and there is much hesitation in 
 concluding to which of these her date is to be 
 assigned. However, it has seemed preferable 
 to me to connect the history of Esther with 
 that Artaxerxes under whom Jerusalem was 
 restored, because it is not likely that, if she had 
 lived under the former Artaxerxes, whose times 
 Esdras has given an account of, he would have 
 made no mention of such an illustrious woman. 
 This is all the more convincing since we know 
 
 2 Our author here touches upon a most interesting question — 
 the ultimate destiny of the ten tribes. He seems to imply that none 
 of them returned to Palestine, but were wholly absorbed among the 
 Gentile nations. That, however, cannot be correct, for it was still 
 possible, in the time of Christ, to speak of some as connected with 
 the tribe of Asher, one of the ten tribes. See Luke ii. 36. 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 103 
 
 that the building of the temple was (as we have 
 related above) prohibited by that Artaxerxes, 
 and Esther would not have allowed that had 
 she then been united with him in marriage. 
 But I will now repeat what things she accom- 
 plished. There was at that time a certain 
 Vastis connected with the king in marriage, a 
 woman of marvelous beauty. Being accus- 
 tomed to extol her loveliness to all, he one day, 
 when he was giving a public entertainment, 
 ordered the queen to attend for the purpose of 
 exhibiting her beauty. But she, more prudent 
 than the foolish king, and being too modest to 
 make a show of her person before the eyes of 
 men, refused compliance with his orders. His 
 savage mind was enraged by this insult, and he 
 drove her forth, both from her condition of 
 marriage with him and from the palace. Con- 
 sequently, when a young woman was sought 
 after to take her place as the wife of the king, 
 Esther was found to excel all others in beauty. 
 She being a Jewess of the tribe of Benjamin, 
 and an orphan, without father or mother, had 
 been brought up by her cousin-german, 1 Mar- 
 dochseus. On being espoused to the king, she, 
 by the instructions of him who had brought her 
 up, concealed her nation and fatherland, and 
 was also admonished by him not to become 
 forgetful of her ancestral traditions, nor, though 
 as a captive she had entered into marriage with 
 a foreigner, to take part in the food of the 
 heathen. Thus, then, being united to the king, 
 she, in a short time, as was to be expected, 
 easily captivated his whole mind by the power 
 of her beauty, so that, equalizing her with him- 
 self in the emblem of sovereign power, he pre- 
 sented her with a purple robe. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 At this time, Mardochseus was among those 
 nearest to the king, having entirely under his 
 charge the affairs of the household. He had 
 made known to the king a plot which had been 
 formed by two eunuchs, and, on that account, 
 had become a greater favorite, while he was pre- 
 sented with the highest honors. There was at 
 that period one Haman, a very confidential 
 friend of the king, whom he had made equal to 
 himself and, after the manner of sovereign rulers, 
 had ordered to be worshiped. Mardochseus 
 being the one man among all who refused to do 
 that, had greatly kindled the wrath of the Per- 
 sian against himself. Accordingly, Haman set- 
 ting his mind to work the ruin of the Hebrew, 
 went to the king, and affirmed that there was in 
 
 1 " patruele patre "; words which have much perplexed the 
 editors. 
 
 his kingdom a race of men of wicked supersti- 
 tions, and hateful alike to God and men. He 
 said that, as they lived according to foreign laws, 
 they deserved to be destroyed ; and that it was 
 a righteous thing to hand over the whole of this 
 nation to death. At the same time, he promised 
 the king immense wealth out of their posses- 
 sions. The barbarous prince was easily per- 
 suaded, and an edict was issued for the slaughter 
 of the Jews, while men were at once sent out to 
 publish it through the whole kingdom from 
 India even to Ethiopia. When Mardoch?eus 
 heard of this, he rent his clothes, clothed him- 
 self in sackcloth, scattered ashes upon his head, 
 and, going to the palace, he there made the 
 whole place resound with his wailing and com- 
 plaints, crying out that it was an unworthy thing 
 that an innocent nation should perish, while 
 there existed no ground for its destruction. 
 Esther's attention was attracted by the voice of 
 lamentation, and she learned how the case really 
 stood. But she was then at a loss what step she 
 should take (for, according to the custom of the 
 Persians, the queen is not permitted access to 
 the king, unless she has been sent for, and 
 indeed is not admitted at any time the king 
 may please, but only at a fixed period) ; and it 
 happened at the time, that by this rule, Esther 
 was held as separated from the presence of the 
 king for the next thirty days. However, think- 
 ing that she ought to run some risk in behalf of 
 her fellow-countrymen, even should sure destruc- 
 tion await her, she was prepared to encounter 
 death in such a noble cause, and, after having 
 called upon God, she entered the court of the 
 king. But the barbarian, though at first amazed 
 at this unusual occurrence, was gradually won 
 over by female blandishments, and at length 
 went so far as to accompany the queen to a ban- 
 quet which she had prepared. Along with him 
 also went Haman, the favorite of the king, but 
 a deadly enemy of the nation of the Jews. 
 Well, when after the feasting the banquet began 
 to become jovial through the many cups which 
 were drank, Esther cast herself down at the 
 knees of the king, and implored him to stay the 
 destruction which threatened her nation. Then 
 the king promised to refuse nothing to her 
 entreaties, if she had any further request to 
 make. Esther at once seized the opportunity, 
 and demanded the death of Haman as a satis- 
 faction to her nation, which he had desired to 
 see destroyed. But the king could not forget 
 his friend, and hesitating a little, he withdrew 
 for a short time for the purpose of considering 
 the matter. He then returned, and when he 
 saw Haman grasping the knees of the queen, 
 excited with rage, and, crying out that violence 
 was being applied to the queen, he ordered him 
 to be put to death. It then came to the knowl- 
 
io4 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 edge of the king that a cross 1 had been got 
 ready by Hainan on which Mardochteus was to 
 suffer. Thus, Hainan was fixed to that very 
 cross, and all his goods were handed over to 
 Mardochseus, while the Jews at large were set 
 free. Artaxerxes reigned sixty and two years, 
 and was succeeded by Ochus. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 To this series of events it will be right that 
 I should append an account of the doings of 
 Judith ; for she is related to have lived after the 
 captivity, but the sacred history has not revealed 
 who was king of the Persians in her day. It, 
 however, calls the king under whom her exploits 
 were performed by the name of Nabuchodo- 
 nosor, and that was certainly not the one who 
 took Jerusalem. But I do not find that any one 
 of that name reigned over the Persians after the 
 captivity, unless it be that, on account of the 1 
 wrath and like endeavors which he manifested, 
 any king acting so was styled Nabuchodonosor 
 by the Jews. Most persons, however, think that 
 it was Cambyses, the son of Cyrus, on this 
 ground that he, as a conqueror, penetrated into 
 Egypt and Ethiopia. But the sacred history is 
 opposed to this opinion ; for Judith is described 
 as having lived in the twelfth year of the king in 
 question. Now, Cambyses did not possess the 
 supreme power for more than eight years. 
 Wherefore, if it is allowable to make a conjec- 
 ture on a point of history, I should be inclined 
 to believe that her exploits were performed 
 under king Ochus, who came after the second 
 Artaxerxes. I found this conjecture on the 
 fact that (as I have read in profane histories) 
 he is related to have been by nature cruel and 
 fond of war. For he both engaged in hostilities 
 with his neighbors, and recovered by wars Egypt, 
 which had revolted many years before. At that 
 time, also, he is related to have ridiculed • the 
 sacred rites of the Egyptians and Apis, who 
 was regarded by them as a god ; a tiling which 
 Baguas, one of his eunuchs, an Egyptian by 
 nation, and indignant at the king's conduct, 
 afterwards avenged by the death of the king, 
 considering that the king had insulted the race 
 to which he belonged. Now, the inspired 2 his- 
 tory makes mention of this Baguas ; for, when 
 Holofernes by the order of the king led an 
 army against the Jews, it has related that Baguas 
 was among the host. Wherefore, not without 
 reason may I bring it forward in proof of the 
 opinion I have expressed that that king who 
 
 1 " poenam crucis": after the Greek. 
 ■ 1 The text is here uncertain. 
 - " historia divina " : the writer applies these words to the 
 book of Judith. 
 
 was named Nabuchodonosor was really Ochus, 
 since profane historians have related that Baguas 
 lived in his reign. But this ought not to be 
 felt at all remarkable by any one, that mere 
 worldly writers have not touched on any of 
 those points which are recorded in the sacked 
 writings. The spirit of God thus took care that 
 the history should be strictly confined within its 
 own mysteries, unpolluted by any corrupt mouth, 
 or that which mingled truth with fiction. That 
 history being, in fact, separated from the affairs 
 of the world, and of a kind to be expressed only 
 in sacred words, clearly ought not to have been 
 mixed up with other histories, as being on a 
 footing of equality with them. For it would 
 have been most unbecoming that this history 
 should be commingled with others treating of 
 other things, or pursuing different inquiries. But 
 I will now proceed to what remains, and will 
 narrate in as few words as I can the acts per- 
 formed by Judith. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The Jews, then, having returned, as we have 
 narrated above, to their native land, and the 
 condition of their affairs and of their city being 
 not yet properly settled, the king of the Persians 
 made war on the Medes, and engaged in a suc- 
 cessful battle against their king, who was named 
 Arphaxad. That monarch being slain, he added 
 the nation to his empire. He did the same to 
 other nations, having sent before him Holofernes 
 whom he had appointed master of his host, with 
 a hundred and twenty thousand foot-soldiers, 
 and twelve thousand cavalry. He, after having 
 ravaged in war, Cilicia and Arabia, took many 
 cities by force, or compelled them through fear 
 to surrender. And now the army, having moved 
 on to Damascus, had struck the Jews with great 
 terror. But as they were unable to resist, and 
 as, at the same time, they could not bring their 
 minds to acquiesce in the thought of surrender, 
 since they had previously known from experi- 
 ence the miseries of slavery, they betook them- 
 selves in crowds to the temple. There, with a 
 general groaning and commingled wailing, they 
 implored the divine assistance ; saying that they 
 had been sufficiently punished by God for their 
 sins and offenses ; and begging him to spare 
 the remnant of them who had recently been de- 
 livered from slavery. In the meantime, Holo- 
 fernes had admitted the Moabites to surrender, 
 and joined them to himself as allies in the war 
 against the Jews. He inquired of their chief 
 men what was the power on which the Hebrews 
 relied in not bringing their minds to submit to 
 the thought of submission. In reply, a certain 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 105 
 
 
 man called Achior stated to him the facts, viz. : 
 that the Jews being worshipers of God, and 
 trained by their fathers to pious observances, 
 had formerly passed through a period of slavery 
 in Egypt, and that, brought out from that coun- 
 try by the divine aid, and having passed over on 
 foot the sea which was dried up before them, 
 they had at last conquered all the opposing na- 
 tions, and recovered the territory inhabited by 
 their ancestors. That subsequently, with various 
 fluctuations in their affairs, they had either pros- 
 pered or the reverse, that, when they did sink 
 into adversity, they had again escaped from their 
 sufferings, finding that God was, in turn, either 
 angry against them, or reconciled towards them, 
 according to their deserts, so that, when they 
 sinned, they were chastised by the attacks of 
 enemies or by being sent into captivity, but were 
 always unconquerable when they enjoyed the 
 divine favor. So then, if at the present time 
 they are free from guilt, they cannot possibly be 
 subdued ; but if they are otherwise situated, they 
 will easily be conquered. Upon this, Holofernes, 
 flushed with many victories, and thinking that 
 everything must give way before him, was roused 
 to wrath, because victory on his part was re- 
 garded as principally depending on the sin of 
 the Jews, and ordered Achior to be pushed for- 
 ward into the camp of the Hebrews, that he 
 might perish in company with those who he had 
 affirmed could not be conquered. Now, the 
 Jews had then made for the mountains ; and 
 those to whom the business had been assigned, 
 proceeded to the foot of the mountains, and 
 there left Achior in chains. When the Jews 
 perceived that, they freed him from his bonds 
 and conducted him up the hill. On their in- 
 quiring the reason of what had happened, he 
 explained it to them, and, being received in 
 peace, awaited the result. I may add that, after 
 the victory, he was circumcised and became a 
 Jew. Well, Holofernes, perceiving the difficulty 
 of the localities, because he could not reach the 
 heights, surrounded the mountains with soldiers, 
 and took the greatest pains to cut off the He- 
 brews from all water supplies. On that account, 
 they, felt all the sooner the misery of a siege. 
 Being therefore overcome through want of 
 water, they went in a company to Ozias, their 
 leader, all inclined to make a surrender. But 
 he replied that they should wait a little, and 
 look for the divine assistance, so that the time 
 of surrender was fixed for the fifth day after- 
 wards. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 When this became known to Judith (a widow 
 woman of great wealth, and remarkable for 
 
 beauty, but still more distinguished for her 
 virtue than her beauty), who was then in the 
 camp, she thought that, in the distressed cir- 
 cumstances of her people, some bold effort 
 ought to be made by her, even though it should 
 lead to her own destruction. She therefore 
 decks her head and beautifies her countenance, 
 and then, attended by a single maid-servant, 
 she enter§ the camp of the enemy. She was 
 immediately conducted to Holofernes, and tells 
 him that the affairs of her countrymen were 
 desperate, so that she had taken precautions for 
 her life by flight. Then she begs of the general 
 the right of a free egress from the camp during 
 night, for the purpose of saying her prayers. 
 That order was accordingly given to the senti- 
 nels and keepers of the gates. But when by 
 the practice of three days she had established 
 for herself the habit of going out and returning, 
 and had also in this way inspired belief in he^ 
 into the barbarians, the desire took possession 
 of Holofernes of abusing the person of his cap- 
 tive ; for, being of surpassing beauty, she had 
 easily impressed the Persian. Accordingly, she 
 was conducted to the tent of the general by 
 Baguas, the eunuch ; and, commencing a ban- 
 quet, the barbarian stupefied himself with a great 
 deal of wine. Then, when the servants with- 
 drew, before he offered violence to the woman, 
 he fell asleep. Judith, seizing the opportunity, 
 cut off the head of the enemy and carried it 
 away with her. Being regarded as simply going 
 out of the camp according to her usual custom, 
 she returned to her own people in safety. On 
 the following day the Hebrews held forth for 
 show the head of Holofernes from the heights ; 
 and, making a sally, marched upon the camp of 
 the enemy. And then the barbarians assemble 
 in crowds at the tent of their general, waiting 
 for the signal of battle. When his mutilated 
 body was discovered, they turned to flight 
 under the influence of a disgraceful panic, and 
 fled before the enemy. The Jews, for their 
 part, pursued the fugitives, and after slaying 
 many thousands, took possession of the camp 
 and the booty within it. Judith was extolled 
 with the loftiest praises, and is said to have 
 lived one hundred and five years. If these 
 things took place, as we believe, under king 
 Ochus, in the twelfth year of his reign, then 
 from the date of the restoration of Jerusalem up 
 to that war there elapsed two and twenty years. 
 Now Ochus reigned in all twenty-three years. 
 And he was beyond all others cruel, and more 
 than of a barbarous disposition. Baguas, the 
 eunuch, took him off by poison on an occasion 
 of his suffering from illness. After him, Arses. 
 his son held the government for three years, and 
 Darius for four. 
 
io6 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Against him Alexander of Macedon engaged 
 in war. And on his being conquered, the sover- 
 eign power was taken from the Persians, after 
 having lasted, from the time of its establish- 
 ment by Cyrus, two hundred and fifty years. 
 Alexander, the conqueror of almost all nations, 
 is said to have visited the temple at Jerusalem, 
 and to have conveyed gifts into it ; and he pro- 
 claimed throughout the whole territory which he 
 had reduced under his sway that it should be 
 free to the Jews living in it to return to their 
 own country. At the end of the twelfth year of 
 his reign, and seven years after he had con- 
 quered Darius, he died at Babylon. His friends 
 who, along with him, had carried on those very 
 important wars, divided his empire among them- 
 selves. For some time they administered the 
 charges they had undertaken without making 
 use of the name of king, while a certain Arridaeus 
 Philippus, the brother of Alexander, reigned, to 
 whom, being of a very weak character, the 
 sovereignty was nominally and in appearance 
 given, but the real power was in the hands of 
 those who had divided among themselves the 
 army and the provinces. And indeed this 
 state of things did not long continue, but all 
 preferred that they should be called by the 
 name of kings. In Syria Seleucus was the first 
 king after Alexander, Persia and Babylon being 
 also subject to his sway. At that time the Jews 
 paid an annual tribute of three hundred talents 
 of silver to the king ; but they were governed 
 not by foreign magistrates but by their own 
 priests. And they lived according to the fash- 
 ions of their ancestors until very many of them, 
 again corrupted by a long peace, began to 
 mingle all things with seditions, and to create 
 disturbances, while they aimed at the high- 
 priesthood under the influence of lust, avarice, 
 and the desire of power. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 For, first of all, under king Seleucus, the son 
 of Antiochus the great, a certain man called 
 Simon accused to the king on false charges 
 Onias the priest, a holy and uncorrupted man, 
 and thus tried, but in vain, to overthrow him. 
 Then, after an interval of time, Jason, the 
 brother of Onias, went to Antiochus the king, 
 who had succeeded his brother Seleucus, and 
 promised him an increase of tribute, if the high- 
 priesthood were transferred to him. And al- 
 though it was an unusual, and indeed, until now, 
 an unpermitted thing for a man to enjoy the 
 high-priesthood year after year, still the eager 
 mind of the king, diseased with avarice, was 
 
 easily persuaded. Accordingly, Onias was driven 
 from office, and the priesthood bestowed on 
 Jason. He harassed his countrymen and his 
 country in the most shameful manner. Then, 
 as he had sent through a certain Menelaus (the 
 brother of that Simon who has been mentioned) 
 the money he had promised to the king, a way 
 being once laid open to his ambition, Menelaus 
 obtained the priesthood by the same arts which 
 Jason had employed before. But not long after, 
 as he had not furnished the promised amount 
 of money, he was driven from his position, and 
 Lysimachus substituted in his stead. Then there 
 arose disgraceful conflicts between Jason and 
 Menelaus, until Jason, as an exile, left the coun- 
 try. By examples like these, the morals of the 
 people became corrupted to such an extent, that 
 numbers of the natives begged permission from 
 Antiochus to live after the fashion of the Gen- 
 tiles. And when the king granted their request, 
 all the most worthless vied with each other in 
 their endeavors to construct temples, to sacrifice 
 to idols, and to profane the law. In the mean- 
 time, Antiochus returned from Alexandria (for 
 he had then made war upon the king of Egypt, 
 which, however, he gave up by the orders of the 
 senate and Roman people, when Paulus and 
 Crassus were consuls), and went to Jerusalem. 
 Finding the people at variance from the diverse 
 superstitions they had adopted, he destroyed the 
 law of God, and showed favor to those who fol- 
 lowed impious courses, while he carried off all 
 the ornaments of the temple, and wasted it with 
 much destruction. That came to pass in the 
 hundred and fiftieth year after the death of 
 Alexander, Paulus and Crassus being, as we 
 have said, consuls, about five years after Antio- 
 chus besmn to reism. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 But that the order of the dates may be cor- 
 rectly preserved, and that it may appear more 
 clearly who this Antiochus was, Ave shall enu- 
 merate both the names and times of the kings 
 who came after Alexander in Syria. Well, then, 
 king Alexander having died, as we have related 
 above, his whole empire was portioned out by 
 his friends, and was governed for some time by 
 them under the name of the king. 1 Seleucus, 
 after the lapse of nine years, was himself styled 
 king in Syria, and reigned thirty-two years. 
 After him came Antiochus, his son, with a reign 
 of twenty-one years. Then came Antiochus, the 
 son of Antiochus, who was surnamed Theus, and 
 he reigned fifteen years. After him, his son 
 
 1 They did not themselves, for a time, assume the name of king, 
 but, as said above, professed to rule under the authority of king 
 Arridaeus, brother of Alexander. 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 107 
 
 Seleucus, surnamed Callinicus, reigned twenty- 
 one years. Another Seleucus, the son of Calli- 
 nicus, reigned three years. After his death, 
 Antiochus, the brother of Callinicus, held Asia 
 and' Syria for thirty-seven years. This is the 
 Antiochus against whom Lucius Scipio Asiaticus 
 made war ; and he, being worsted in the war, 
 was stripped of a part of his empire. He had 
 two sons, Seleucus and Antiochus, the latter of 
 whom he had given as a hostage to the Romans. 
 Thus, then, Antiochus the great having died, his 
 younger son Seleucus obtained the kingdom, 
 under whom, as we have said, Onias the priest 
 had an accusation brought against him by Simon. 
 Then Antiochus was set free by the Romans, 
 and there was given in his place as hostage 
 Demetrius, the son of Seleucus, who was at that 
 time reigning. Seleucus dying in the twelfth 
 year of his reign, his brother Antiochus, who 
 had been a hostage at Rome, seized the king- 
 dom. He, five years after the beginning of his 
 reign, did, as we have shown above, lay waste 
 Jerusalem. For, as he had to pay a heavy trib- 
 ute to the Romans, he was almost of necessity 
 compelled, in order to meet that enormous ex- 
 pense, to provide himself with money by rapine, 
 and to neglect no opportunity of plundering. 
 Then, after two years, the Jews being again 
 visited by a similar disaster to that which they 
 had suffered before, lest it should happen that, 
 driven on by their numerous miseries, they should 
 commence war, he placed a garrison in the cita- 
 del. Next, with the view of overturning the 
 holy law, he published an edict, that all, forsak- 
 ing the traditions of their ancestors, should live 
 after the manner of the Gentiles. And there 
 were not wanting those who readily obeyed this 
 profane enactment. Then truly there was a hor- 
 rible spectacle presented ; through all the cities 
 sacrifices were publicly offered in the streets, 
 while the sacred volumes of the law and the 
 prophets were consumed with fire. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 At that time, Matthathias, the son of John, 
 was high-priest. When he was being forced by 
 the servants of the king to obey the edict, with 
 marvelous courage he set at naught the profane 
 enactments, and slew, in the presence of all, a 
 Hebrew who was publicly performing profane 
 acts. A leader having thus been found, rebel- 
 lion at once took place. Matthathias left the 
 town ; and as many flocked to him, he got up 
 the appearance of a regular army. The object' 
 of every man in that host was to defend himself 
 by arms against a profane government, and 
 rather even to fall in war than to take part in 
 impious ceremonies. In the meantime, Anti- 
 
 ochus was compelling those Jews who were 
 found in the Greek cities in his dominions to 
 offer sacrifice, and was visiting with unheard-of 
 torments those who refused. At this time, there 
 occurred that well-known and remarkable suffer- 
 ing of the seven brothers and their mother. 
 All of the brothers, when they were being 
 forced to violate the law of God, and the cus- 
 toms of their ancestors, preferred rather to die. 
 At last, their mother, too, accompanied them 
 both in their sufferings and death. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 In the meantime, Matthathias dies, having 
 appointed in his own place his son Judah, as 
 general of the army which he had brought to- 
 gether. Under his leadership, several success- 
 ful battles took place against the royal forces. 
 For first of all, he destroyed, along with his 
 whole army, Apollonius, the enemy's general, 
 who had entered on the conflict with a large 
 number of troops. When a certain man, named 
 Seron, who was then the ruler of Syria, heard 
 of this, he increased his forces, and attacked 
 Judah with much spirit as being superior in 
 numbers, but when a battle took place, he was 
 routed and put to flight ; and with the loss of 
 nearly eight hundred men, he returned to Syria. 
 On this becoming known to Antiochus, he was 
 filled with rage and regret, inasmuch as it vexed 
 him that his generals had been conquered, not- 
 withstanding their large armies. He therefore 
 gathers aid from his whole empire, and bestows 
 a donative on the soldiers, almost to the ex- 
 haustion of his treasury. For he was then suf- 
 fering in a very special manner from the want 
 of money. The reason of this was, on the one 
 side, that the Jews, who had been accustomed 
 to pay him an annual tribute of more than three 
 hundred talents of silver, were now in a state 
 of rebellion against him ; and on the other side, 
 that many of the Greek cities and countries 
 were unsettled by the evil of persecution. For 
 Antiochus had not spared even the Gentiles, 
 whom he had sought to persuade to abandon 
 their long- established superstitions, and to 
 draw over to one kind of religious observance. 
 And no doubt, those of them who regarded 
 nothing as sacred, easily were induced to give 
 up their ancient forms of worship,' but at the 
 same time all were in a state of alarm and dis- 
 aster. ■ For these reasons, then, the taxes had 
 ceased to be paid. Boiling with wrath on these 
 grounds (for he who had of old been the richest 
 of kings now deeply felt the poverty due to his 
 own wickedness), he divided his forces with 
 Lysias, and committed to him Syria and the 
 war against the Jews, while he himself set out 
 
io8 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 against the Persians, to collect the taxes among 
 them. Lysias, then, selected Ptolemy, Gorgias, 
 Doro, and Nicanor, as generals in the war ; and 
 to these he gave forty thousand infantry, and 
 seven thousand cavalry. At the first onset, 
 these caused great alarm among the Jews. 
 Then Judah, when all were in despair, exhorted 
 his men to go with courageous hearts to battle — 
 that, if they put their trust in God, everything 
 would give way before them ; for that often 
 before then the victory had been won by a few 
 fighting against many. A fast was proclaimed, 
 and sacrifice was offered, after which they went 
 down to battle. The result was that the forces 
 of the enemy were scattered, and Judah, taking 
 possession of their camp, found in it both much 
 gold and Tyrian treasures. For merchants 
 from Syria, having no doubt as to victory, had 
 followed the king's army with the hope of pur- 
 chasing prisoners, and now were themselves 
 spoiled. When these things were reported to 
 Lysias by messengers, he got together troops 
 with still greater efforts, and in a year after 
 again attacked the Jews with an enormous 
 army ; but being defeated, he retreated to 
 Antioch. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Judah, on the defeat of the enemy, returned 
 to Jerusalem, and bent his mind on the purifi- 
 cation and restoration of the temple, which hav- 
 ing been overthrown by Antiochus, and profaned 
 by the Gentiles, presented a melancholy specta- 
 cle. But as the Syrians held the citadel, which 
 being connected with the temple, but standing 
 above it in position, was really impregnable, the 
 lower parts proved inaccessible, as frequent 
 sallies from above prevented persons from ap- 
 proaching them. But Judah placed against 
 these assailants a very powerful body of his- men. 
 Thus the work of the sacred building was pro- 
 tected, and the temple was surrounded with a 
 wall, while armed men were appointed to main- 
 tain a perpetual defence. And Lysias, having 
 again returned into Judaea with increased forces, 
 was once more defeated with a great loss both 
 of his own army and of the auxiliaries, which 
 being sent to him by various states had com- 
 bined with him in the war. In the meantime, 
 Antiochus, who, as we have said above, had 
 marched into Persia, endeavored to plunder the 
 town of Elymus, the wealthiest in the country, 
 and a temple situated there which was filled 
 with gold ; but, as a multitude flocked together 
 from all sides for the defense of the place, he 
 was put to flight. Moreover, he received news 
 of the want of success which had attended the 
 
 efforts of Lysias. 1 Thus, from distress of mind, 
 he fell into bodily disease. But as he was then 
 tormented with internal sufferings, he remem- 
 bered the miseries which he had inflicted on 
 the people of God, and acknowledged that these 
 evils had deservedly been sent upon him. 
 Then, after a few days, he died, having reigned 
 eleven years. He left the kingdom to his son 
 Antiochus, to whom the name of Eupator was 
 given. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 At that time Judah besieged the Syrians who 
 were posted in the citadel. They, being sore 
 pressed with famine and want of all things, sent 
 messengers to the king to implore assistance. 
 Accordingly, Eupator came to their aid with a 
 hundred thousand infantry and twenty thousand 
 cavalry, while elephants marched in front of his 
 line, causing immense terror to the onlookers. 
 Then Judah, abandoning the siege, went to 
 meet the king, and routed the Syrians in the 
 first battle. The king begged for peace, which, 
 because x he, with his treacherous disposition, 
 made a bad use of, vengeance followed his 
 treachery. For Demetrius, the son of Seleucus, 
 who, we have said above, was handed over as 
 a hostage to the Romans, when he heard that 
 Antiochus had departed, begged that they would 
 send him to take possession of the kingdom. 
 And when this was refused to him, he secretly 
 fled from Rome, came into Syria, and seized the 
 supreme power, having slain the son of Anti- 
 ochus, who had reigned one year and six 
 months. It was during his reign that the Jews 
 first begged the friendship of the Roman people, 
 and alliance with them ; and the embassy to 
 this effect having been kindly received, they 
 were, by a decree of the senate, styled allies 
 and friends. In the meantime Demetrius was, 
 by means of his generals, carrying on war against 
 Judah. And first the army was led by a certain 
 man named Bacchides, and by Alcimus, a Jew ; 
 Nicanor, being afterwards placed at the head of 
 the war, fell in battle. Then Bacchides and 
 Alcimus, recovering power, and having increased 
 their forces, fought against Judah. The Syrians, 
 turning out victorious in that battle, cruelly 
 abused their victory. The Hebrews elect Jona- 
 than, the brother of Judah, in his place. In the 
 meantime, Alcimus, after he had fearfully deso- 
 lated Jerusalem, dies ; Bacchides, being thus de- 
 prived of his ally, returns to the king. Then, 
 after an interval of two years, Bacchides again 
 made war upon the Jews, and being beaten, he 
 
 1 Some add the words, " or of Lysimachus," but this appears to 
 have been a gloss. 
 
 1 The text is here in utter confusion; we have followed that 
 suggested by Vorstius. 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 109 
 
 begged for peace. This was granted him on 
 certain conditions, to the effect that he should 
 give up the deserters and prisoners, along with 
 all that he had taken in war. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 While these things are going on in Judaea, a 
 certain young man educated at Rhodes, by 
 name Alexander, gave himself out as being the 
 son of Antiochus (which was false), and assisted 
 by the power of Ptolemy, king of Alexan- 
 dria, came into Syria with an army. He con- 
 quered Demetrius in war, and slew him after 
 he had reigned twelve years. This Alexander, 
 before he made war against Demetrius, had 
 formed an alliance with Jonathan, and had pre- 
 sented him with a purple robe and royal ensigns. 
 For this reason Jonathan had assisted him with 
 auxiliary forces ; and on the defeat of Deme- 
 trius, had been the very first to meet him with 
 congratulations. Nor did Alexander afterwards 
 violate the faith which he had pledged. Accord- 
 ingly, in the five years during which he held the 
 chief power, the affairs of the Jews were peace- 
 ful. In these circumstances, Demetrius, the 
 son of Demetrius, who, after the death of his 
 father, had betaken himself to Crete, at the in- 
 stigation of Lasthenes, general of the Cretans, 
 tried by war to recover the kingdom of his 
 father, but finding his power unequal to the 
 task, he implored Ptolemy Philometor, king of 
 Egypt, the father-in-law of Alexander, but who 
 was then on bad terms with his son-in-law, to 
 give him assistance. But he, induced not so 
 much by the entreaties of the suppliant as by 
 the hope of seizing Syria, joined his forces with 
 those of Demetrius, and gives him his daughter, 
 who had been married to Alexander. Against 
 these two Alexander fought a pitched battle. 
 Ptolemy fell in the fight, but Alexander was de- 
 feated ; and he was soon afterwards slain, after 
 he had reigned five, or as I find it stated in 
 many authors, nine years. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Demetrius, having thus obtained the king- 
 dom, treated Jonathan with kindness, made a 
 treaty with him, and restored the Jews to their 
 own laws. In the meantime, Tryphon, who had 
 belonged to the party of Alexander, was ap- 
 pointed 1 governor of Syria, to keep him in 
 check by war. Jonathan, 2 on the other hand, 
 
 1 Some words have here been lost, but the critics are not agreed 
 as to what should be supplied. 
 
 2 As Vorstius suggests, we have here taken Jonathan as a nomi- 
 native, but the passage is very obscure. 
 
 descended to battle, formidable with an army of 
 forty thousand men. Tryphon, when he saw 
 himself unequal to the contest, pretended a 
 desire for peace, and s,lew Ptolemais who had 
 been received and invited into friendship with 
 him. After Jonathan, the chief power was con- 
 ferred on his brother Simon. He celebrated 
 the funeral of his brother with great pomp, and 
 built those well-known seven pyramids of most 
 noble workmanship, in which he buried the 
 remains both of his brothers and of his father. 
 Then Demetrius renewed his treaty with the 
 Jews ; and in consideration of the loss caused 
 to them by Tryphon (for after the death of 
 Jonathan he had wasted by war their cities and 
 territories), he remitted to them their annual 
 tribute forever ; for up to that time, they had 
 paid tribute to the kings of Syria, except when 
 they resisted by force of arms. That took place 
 in the second year of king Demetrius ; and we 
 have noted that, because up to this year we have 
 run through the times of the Asiatic kings, that 
 the series of dates being given in order might 
 be perfectly clear. But now we shall arrange 
 the order of events through the times of those, 
 who were either high-priests or kings among the 
 Jews, up to the period of the birth of Christ. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Well, then, after Jonathan, his brother Simon, 
 as has been said above, ruled over the Hebrews 
 with the power of high-priest. For that honor 
 was then bestowed upon him both by his own 
 countrymen and by the Roman people. He 
 began to rule over his countrymen in the second 
 year of king Demetrius, but eight years after- 
 wards, being deceived by a plot of Ptolemy, he 
 met his death. He was succeeded by his son 
 John. And he, on the ground that he had 
 fought with distinction against the Hyrcani, a 
 very powerful nation, received the surname of 
 Hyrcanus. He died, after having held the 
 supreme power for twenty-six years. After him, 
 Aristobulus being appointed high-priest, was the 
 first of all living after the captivity to assume the 
 name of king, and to have a crown placed upon 
 his head. At the close of a year, he died. 
 Then Alexander, his son, who was both king 
 and high-priest, reigned twenty-seven years ; 
 but I have found nothing in his doings worthy 
 of mention, except his cruelty. He having left 
 two young sons named Aristobulus and Hyrca- 
 nus, Salina or Alexandra, his wife, held the sov- 
 ereignty for three years. After his decease, 
 frightful conflicts about the supreme power arose 
 between the two brothers. And first of all, 
 Hyrcanus held the government ; but being by 
 and by defeated by his brother Aristobulus, he 
 
I IO 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 fled to Pompey. That Roman general, having 
 finished the war with Mithridates, and settled 
 Armenia and Pontus, being, in fact, the con- 
 queror of all the nations which he had visited, 
 desired to march inwards, 1 and to add all the 
 neighboring regions to the Roman empire. He 
 therefore inquired into the causes of the war, 
 and the means of obtaining 2 the mastery. Ac- 
 cordingly he readily received Hyrcanus, and, 
 under his guidance, attacked the Jews ; but 
 when the city was taken and destroyed, he 
 spared the temple. He sent Aristobulus in 
 chains to Rome, and restored the right of the 
 high-priesthood to Hyrcanus. Settling the trib- 
 ute to be paid by the Jews, he placed over them 
 as governor a certain Antipater of Askelon. 
 Hyrcanus held the chief power for thirty-four 
 years ; but while he carried on war against the 
 Parthians, he was taken prisoner. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Then Herod, a foreigner, the son of Antipater 
 of Askelon, asked and received the sovereignty 
 of Judaea from the senate and people of Rome. 
 Under him, the Jews began for the first time to 
 have a foreigner as king. For as now the ad- 
 vent of Christ was at hand, it was necessary, 
 according to the predictions of the prophets, that 
 they should be deprived of their own rulers, that 
 they might not look for anything beyond Christ. 
 Under this Herod, in the thirty-third year of his 
 reign, Christ was born on the twenty-fifth of 
 December in the consulship of Sabinus and 
 Rufinus. But we do not venture to touch on 
 these things which are contained in the Gospels, 
 and subsequently in the Acts of the Apostles, 
 lest the character of our condensed work should, 
 in any measure, detract from the dignity of the 
 events ; and I shall proceed to what remains. 
 Herod reigned four years after the birth of the 
 Lord ; for the whole period of his reign com- 
 prised thirty-seven years. After him, came 
 Archelaus the tetrarch, for eight years, and 
 Herod for twenty-four years. Under him, in 
 the eighteenth year of his reign, the Lord was 
 crucified, Fufius Geminus and Rubellius Gem- 
 inus being consuls ; from which date up to the 
 consulship of Stilico, there have elapsed three 
 hundred and seventy-two years. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Luke made known the doings of the apostles 
 up to the time when Paul was brought to Rome 
 under the emperor Nero. As to Nero, I shall 
 
 1 " Introrsum," towards home ; another reading is 
 sum," farther oniuards. 
 
 - "vincendi": others read " incendii." 
 
 ultror- 
 
 not say that he was the worst of kings, but that 
 he was worthily held the basest of all men, and 
 even of wild beasts. It was he who first began a 
 persecution ; and I am not sure but he will be 
 the last also to carry it on, if, indeed, we admit, 
 as many are inclined to believe, that he will yet 
 appear immediately before the coming of Anti- 
 christ. Our subject would induce me to set 
 forth his vices at some length, if it were not in- 
 consistent with the purpose of this work to enter 
 upon so vast a topic. I content myself with the 
 remark, that he showed himself in every way 
 most abominable and cruel, and at length even 
 went so far as to be the murderer of his own 
 mother. After this, he also married a certain 
 Pythagoras in the style of solemn alliances, the 
 bridal veil being put upon the emperor, while 
 the usual dowry, and the marriage couch, and 
 wedding torches, and, in short, all the other 
 observances were forthcoming — things which 
 even in the case of women are not looked upon 
 without some feeling of modesty. But as to his 
 other actions, I doubt whether the description 
 of them would excite greater shame or sorrow. 
 He first attempted to abolish the name of Chris- 
 tian, in accordance with the fact that vices are 
 always inimical to virtues, and that all good men 
 are ever regarded by the wicked as casting re- 
 proach upon them. For, at that time, our divine 
 religion had obtained a wide prevalence in the 
 city. Peter was there executing the office of 
 bishop, and Paul, too, after he had been brought 
 to Rome, on appealing to Caesar from the un- 
 just judgment of the governor. Multitudes then 
 came together to hear Paul, and these, influenced 
 by the truth which they were given to know, and 
 by the miracles 1 of the apostles, which they then 
 so frequently performed, turned to the worship 
 of God. For then took place the well-known 
 and celebrated encounter of Peter and Paul with 
 Simon. 2 He, after he had flown up into the air 
 by his magical arts, and supported by two de- 
 mons (with the view of proving that he was a 
 god), the demons being put to flight by the 
 prayers of the apostles, fell to the earth in the 
 sight of all the people, and was dashed to pieces. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 In the meantime, the number of the Christians 
 being now very large, it happened that Rome 
 was destroyed by fire, while Nero was stationed 
 at Antium. But the opinion of all cast the 
 odium of causing the fire upon the emperor, 
 and he was believed in this way to have sought 
 for the glory of building a new city. And in 
 fact, Nero could not by any means he tried 
 
 1 " virtutibus." 
 
 2 Generally spoken of as Simon Magus 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 in 
 
 escape from the charge that the fire had been 
 caused by his orders. He therefore turned the 
 accusation against the Christians, and the most 
 cruel tortures were accordingly inflicted upon 
 the innocent. Nay, even new kinds of death 
 were invented, so that, being covered in the 
 skins of wild beasts, they perished by being de- 
 voured by dogs, while many were crucified or 
 slain by fire, and not a few were set apart for 
 this purpose, that, when the day came to a close, 
 they should be consumed to serve for light dur- 
 ing the night. In this way, cruelty first began 
 to be manifested against the Christians. After- 
 wards, too, their religion was prohibited by laws 
 which were enacted ; and by edicts openly set 
 forth it was proclaimed unlawful to be a Chris- 
 tian. At that time Paul and Peter were con- 
 demned to death, the former being beheaded 
 with a sword, while Peter suffered crucifixion. 
 And while these things went on at Rome, the 
 Jews, not able to endure the injuries they suffered 
 under the rule of Festus Florus, began to rebel. 
 Vespasian, being sent by Nero against them, with 
 proconsular power, defeated them in numerous 
 important battles, and compelled them to flee 
 within the walls of Jerusalem. In the mean- 
 while Nero, now hateful even to himself from a 
 consciousness of his crimes, disappears from 
 among 1 men, leaving it uncertain whether or not 
 he had laid violent hands upon himself: cer- 
 tainly his body was never found. It was accord- 
 ingly believed that, even if he did put an end to 
 himself with a sword, his wound was cured, and 
 his life preserved, according to that which was 
 written regarding him, — "And his mortal 2 
 wound was healed," — to be sent forth again 
 near the end of the world, in order that he may 
 practice the mystery of iniquity. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 So then, after the departure of Nero, Galba 
 seized the government ; and ere long, on Galba 
 being slain, Otho secured it. Then Vitellius from 
 Gaul, trusting to the armies which he com- 
 manded, entered the city, and having killed 
 Otho, assumed the sovereignty. This afterwards 
 passed to Vespasian, and although that was ac- 
 complished by evil means, yet it had the good 
 effect of rescuing the state from the hands of 
 the wicked. While Vespasian was besieging 
 Jerusalem, he took possession of the imperial 
 power ; and as the fashion is, he was saluted as 
 emperor by the army, with a diadem placed 
 upon his head. He made his son Titus, Csesar ; 
 and assigned him a portion of the forces, along 
 with the task of continuing the siege of Jerusa- 
 lem. Vespasian set out for Rome, and was re- 
 
 1 " humanis rebu= eximitur. 
 
 Rev. xiii. 3. 
 
 ceived with the greatest favor by the senate and 
 people ; and Vitellius having killed himself, his 
 hold of the sovereign power was fully confirmed. 
 The Jews, meanwhile, being closely besieged, as 
 no chance either of peace or surrender was 
 allowed them, were at length perishing from 
 famine, and the streets began everywhere to be 
 filled with dead bodies, for the duty of burying 
 them could no longer be performed. Moreover, 
 they ventured on eating all things of the most 
 abominable nature, and did not even abstain 
 from human bodies, except those which putre- 
 faction had already laid hold of and thus 
 excluded from use as food. The Romans, 
 accordingly, rushed in upon the exhausted 
 defenders of the city. And it so happened 
 that the whole multitude from the country, 
 and from other towns of Judaea, had then as- 
 sembled for the day of the Passover : doubt- 
 less, because it pleased God that the impious 
 race should be given over to destruction at the 
 very time of the year at which they had cruci- 
 fied the Lord. The Pharisees for a time main- 
 tained their ground most boldly in defense of 
 the temple, and at length, with minds obsti- 
 nately bent on death, they, of their own accord, 
 committed themselves to the flames. The num- 
 ber of those who suffered death is related to 
 have been eleven hundred thousand, and one 
 hundred thousand were taken captive and sold. 
 Titus is said, after calling a council, to have 
 first deliberated whether he should destroy the 
 temple, a structure of such extraordinary work. 
 For it seemed good to some that a sacred edi- 
 fice, distinguished above all human achieve- 
 ments, ought not to be destroyed, inasmuch 
 as, if preserved, it would furnish an evidence of 
 Roman moderation, but, if destroyed, would 
 serve for a perpetual proof of Roman cruelty. 
 But on the opposite side, others and Titus him- 
 self thought that the temple ought specially to 
 be overthrown, in order that the religion of the 
 Jews and of the Christians might more thor- 
 oughly be subverted ; for that these religions, 
 although contrary to each other, had nevertheless 
 proceeded from the same authors ; that the 
 Christian's had sprung up from among the Jews ; 
 and that, if the root were extirpated, the off- 
 shoot would speedily perish. Thus, according 
 to the divine will, the minds of all being in- 
 flamed, the temple was destroyed, three hun- 
 dred and thirty-one years ago. And this last 
 overthrow of the temple, and final captivity of 
 the Jews, by which, being exiles from their na- 
 tive land, they are beheld scattered through the 
 whole world, furnish a daily demonstration to 
 the world, that they have been punished on no 
 other account than for the impious hands which 
 they laid upon Christ. For though on other 
 occasions they were often given over to captivity 
 
112 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 on account of their sins, yet they never paid the 
 penalty of slavery beyond a period of seventy 
 j'ears. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Then, after an interval, Domitian, the son of 
 Vespasian, persecuted the Christians. At this 
 date, he banished John the Apostle and Evan- 
 gelist to the island of Patmos. There he, secret 
 mysteries having been revealed to him, wrote 
 and published his book of the holy Revelation, 
 which indeed is either foolishly or impiously 
 not accepted by many. And with no great 
 interval there then occurred the third persecu- 
 tion under Trajan. But he, when after torture 
 and racking he found nothing in the Christians 
 worthy of death or punishment, forbade any 
 further cruelty to be " put forth against them. 
 Then under Adrian the Jews attempted to rebel, 
 and endeavored to plunder both Syria and 
 Palestine ; but on an army being sent against 
 them, they were subdued. At this time Adrian, 
 thinking that he would destroy the Christian 
 faith by inflicting an injury upon the place, set 
 up the images of demons both in the temple 
 and in the place where the Lord suffered. And 
 because the Christians were thought principally 
 to consist of Jews (for the church at Jerusalem 
 did not then have a priest except of the circum- 
 cision), he ordered a cohort of soldiers to keep 
 constant guard in order to prevent all Jews from 
 approaching to Jerusalem. This, however, 
 rather benefited l the Christian faith, because 
 almost all then believed in Christ as God while 
 continuing 2 in the observance of the law. Un- 
 doubtedly that was arranged by the over-ruling 
 care of the Lord, in order that the slavery of 
 the law might be taken away from the liberty of 
 the faith and of the church. In this way, Mark 
 from among the Gentiles was then, first of all, 
 bishop at Jerusalem. A fourth persecution is 
 reckoned as having taken place under Adrian, 
 which, however, he afterwards forbade to be 
 carried on, declaring it to be unjust that any 
 one should be put on his trial without a charge 
 being specified against him. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 After Adrian, the churches had peace under 
 the rule of Antoninus Pius. Then the fifth 
 persecution began under Aurelius, the son of 
 Antoninus. And then, for the first time, mar- 
 
 1 How so? Because, according to Drusius, the Christian Jews 
 were thus first taught to cast off the yoke of the law, which they 
 had observed up to this time. 
 
 - These were half-Jews and half-Christians, and were known at 
 a later date under the name of Nazarites. They made use of what 
 was called the Gospel according to the Hebrews. 
 
 tyrdoms were seen taking place in Gaul, for the 
 religion of God had been accepted somewhat 
 late beyond the Alps. Then the sixth persecu- 
 tion of the Christians took place under the 
 emperor Severus. At this time Leonida, the 
 father of Origen, poured forth his sacred blood 
 in martyrdom. Then, during an interval of 
 thirty-eight years, the Christians enjoyed peace, 
 except that at the middle of that time Maxi- 
 minus persecuted the clerics of some churches. 
 Ere long, under Decius as emperor, the seventh 
 bloody persecution broke out against the Chris- 
 tians. Next, Valerian proved himself the eighth 
 enemy of the saints. After him, with an interval 
 of about fifty years, there arose, under the em- 
 perors Diocletian and Maximian, a most bitter 
 persecution which, for ten continuous years, 
 wasted the people of God. At this period, 
 almost the whole world was stained with the 
 sacred blood of the martyrs. In fact, they vied 
 with each other in rushing upon these glorious 
 struggles, and martyrdom by glorious deaths 
 was then much more keenly sought after than 
 bishoprics are now attempted to be got by 
 wicked ambition. Never more than at that 
 time was the world exhausted by wars, nor did 
 we ever achieve victory with a greater triumpn 
 than when we showed that we could not be 
 conquered by the slaughters of ten long years. 
 There survive also accounts of the sufferings of 
 the martyrs at that time which were committed 
 to writing ; but I do not think it suitable to 
 subjoin these lest I should exceed the limits 
 prescribed to this work. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 Well, the end of the persecutions was reached 
 eighty- eight years ago, at which date the em- 
 perors began to be Christians. For Constantine 
 then obtained the sovereignty, and he was the 
 first Christian of all the Roman rulers. At that 
 time, it is true, Licinius, who was a rival of 
 Constantine for the empire, had commanded 
 his soldiers to sacrifice, and was expelling from 
 the service those who refused to do so. But 
 that is not reckoned among the persecutions ; it 
 was an affair of too little moment to be able to 
 inflict any wound upon the churches. From 
 that time, we have continued to enjoy tranquil- 
 lity ; nor do I believe that there will be any 
 further persecutions, except that which Anti- 
 christ will carry on just before the end of the 
 world. For it has been proclaimed in divine 
 words, that the world was to be visited by ten 
 afflictions ; ' and since nine of these have already 
 been endured, the one which remains must be 
 
 1 " decern plagis. " 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 1 1 
 
 the last. During this period of time, it is mar- 
 velous how the Christian religion has prevailed. 
 For Jerusalem which had presented a horrible 
 mass of ruins was then adorned with most numer- 
 ous and magnificent churches. And Helena, the 
 mother of the emperor Constantine (who reigned 
 along with her son as Augusta), having a strong 
 desire to behold Jerusalem, cast down the idols 
 and the temples which were found there ; and 
 in course of time, through the exercise of her 
 royal powers, she erected churches 2 on the site 
 of the Lord's passion, resurrection, and ascen- 
 sion. It is a remarkable fact that the spot on 
 which the divine footprints had last been left, 
 when the Lord was carried up in a cloud to 
 heaven, could not be joined by a pavement with 
 the remaining part of the street. For the earth, 
 unaccustomed to mere human contact, rejected 
 all the appliances laid upon it, and often threw 
 back the blocks of marble in the faces of those 
 who were seeking to place them. Moreover, it 
 is an enduring ' proof of the soil of that place 
 having been trodden by God, that the footprints 
 are still to be seen ; and although the faith of 
 those who daily flock to that place, leads them 
 to vie with each other in seeking to carry away 
 what had been trodden by the feet of the Lord, 
 yet the sand of the place suffers no injury ; and 
 the earth still preserves the same appearance 
 which it presented of old, as if it had been 
 sealed by the footprints impressed upon it. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Through the kind efforts of the same queen, 
 the cross of the Lord was then found. It could 
 not, of course, be consecrated at the beginning, 
 owing to the opposition of the Jews, and after- 
 wards it had been covered over by the rubbish 
 of the ruined city. And now, it would never have 
 been revealed except to one seeking for it in 
 such a believing spirit. Accordingly, Helena 
 having first got information about the place of 
 our Lord's passion, caused a band of soldiers to 
 be brought l up to it, while the whole multitude 
 of the inhabitants of the locality vied with each 
 other in seeking to gratify the desires of the 
 queen, and ordered the earth to be dug up, and 
 all the adjacent most extensive- ruins to be 
 cleared out. Ere long, as the reward of her 
 faith and labor, three crosses (as of old they 
 had been fixed for the Lord and the two rob- 
 bers) were discovered. But upon this, the 
 greater difficulty of distinguishing the gibbet on 
 which the Lord had hung, disturbed the minds 
 and thoughts of all, lest by a mistake, likely 
 
 2 "basilicas": edifices, which, in size and grandeur, had some 
 resemblance to a royal palace. 
 
 1 " admota militari manu atque omnium provincialium multitu- 
 dine in studia reginae certantium." 
 
 enough to be committed by mere mortals, they 
 might perhaps consecrate as the cross of the 
 Lord, that which belonged to one of the robbers. 
 They form then the plan of placing one who 
 had recently died in contact with the crosses. 
 Nor is there any delay in carrying out this pur- 
 pose ; for just as if by the appointment of God, 
 the funeral of a dead man was then being con- 
 ducted with the usual ceremonies, and all rush- 
 ing up took the body from the bier. It was 
 applied in vain to the first two crosses, but when 
 it touched that of Christ, wonderful to tell, 
 while all stood trembling, the dead body was 2 
 shaken off, and stood up in the midst of those 
 looking at it. The cross was thus discovered, 
 and was consecrated with all due ceremony. 3 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 Such were the things accomplished by Helena, 
 while, under a Christian prince, the world had 
 both attained to liberty, and possessed in him 
 an exemplar of faith. But a far more dreadful 
 danger than all that had preceded fell upon all 
 the churches from that state of tranquillity. For 
 then the Arian heresy burst forth, and disturbed 
 the whole world by the error which it instilled. 
 For by means of the two J Ariuses, who were 
 the most active originators of this unfaithfulness, 
 the emperor himself was led astray, and while 
 he seemed to himself to fulfill a religious duty, 
 he proceeded to a violent exercise of persecu- 
 tion. The bishops were driven into exile : 
 cruelty was exerted against the clerics ; and 
 even the laity were punished, who had separated 
 from the communion of the Arians. Now, the 
 doctrines which the Arians proclaimed were of 
 the following nature, — that God the Father 
 had begotten his Son for the purpose of creating 
 the world ; and that, by his power, he had 
 made 2 out of nothing into a new and second 
 substance, a new and second God ; and that 
 there was a time when the Son had no existence. 
 To meet this evil, a synod was convened from 
 the whole world to meet at Nicsea. Three 
 hundred and eighteen bishops were there as- 
 sembled : the faith was fully set forth in writing ; 
 the Arian heresy was condemned ; and the em- 
 peror confirmed the whole by an imperial de- 
 cree. The Arians, then, not daring to make any 
 further attempt against the orthodox faith, mixed 
 themselves among the churches, as if they 
 acquiesced in the conclusions which had been 
 reached, and did not hold any different opinions. 
 
 2 " funus excussum ": a singular expression. 
 
 " "ambitu": apparently used here with the meaning which 
 sometimes belongs to " ambitione." 
 
 1 The one of these was Arius, the author of the heresy, and the 
 other a presbyter of Alexandria bearing the same name. 
 
 2 Both the text and meaning are here obscure. We have read, 
 with Halm, " fecisse " for the usual " factum." 
 
ii4 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 There remained, however, in their hearts, a 
 deep-seated hatred against the Catholics, and 
 they assailed, with suborned accusers and 
 trumped-up charges, those with whom they 
 could not contend in argument on matters of 
 faith. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 Accordingly, they first attack and condemn 
 in his absence Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria, 
 a holy man, who had been present as deacon at 
 the Synod of Nicaea. For they added to the 
 charges which false witnesses had heaped up 
 against him, this one, that, with wicked inten- 
 tions, he had received ] Marcellus and Photinus, 
 heretical priests who had been condemned by a 
 sentence of the Synod. Now, it was not doubt- 
 ful as to Photinus that he had been justly con- 
 demned. But in the case of Marcellus, it 
 seemed that nothing had then been found 
 worthy of condemnation, and 2 a belief in his 
 innocence was above all strengthened by the 
 animus of that party, inasmuch as no one 
 doubted that those same judges were hereti- 
 cal by whom he had been condemned. But 
 the Arians did not so much desire to get these 
 persons out of the way as Athanasius him- 
 self. Accordingly, "they constrain the emperor 
 to go so far as this, that Athanasius should be 
 sent as an exile into Gaul. But ere long, eighty 
 bishops, assembling together in Egypt, declare 
 that Athanasius had been unjustly condemned. 
 The matter is referred to Constantine : he 
 orders 3 bishops from the whole world to assem- 
 ble at Sardes, and that the entire process by 
 which Athanasius had been condemned, should 
 be reconsidered by the council. In the mean- 
 time, Constantine dies, but the Synod, called 
 together while he was yet emperor, acquits 
 Athanasius. Marcellus, too, is restored to his 
 bishopric, but the sentence on Photinus, bishop 
 of Sirmion, was not rescinded ; for even 4 in the 
 judgment of our friends, he is regarded as a 
 heretic. However, even this result chagrined 
 Marcellus, because Photinus was known to have 
 been his disciple in his youth. But this, too, 
 tended to secure an acquittal for Athanasius, 
 that Ursatius and Valens, leading men among 
 the Arians, when they were openly separated 
 from the communion of the Church after the 
 Synod at Sardes, entering into the presence of 
 
 1 Different periods and events are here mixed up by our author. 
 
 2 The text is in utter confusion, and we can only make a prob- 
 able guess at the meaning. 
 
 3 It has been remarked that Sulpitius is in error in ascribing the 
 summoning of this council to Constantine the Great, instead of his 
 son Constantine II. The curious thing is that he should have made 
 a mistake regarding an event so near his own time. 
 
 4 " qui etiam nostrorum judicio hsreticus probatur." 
 
 Julius, bishop of Rome, asked pardon of him 
 for having condemned the innocent, and publicly 
 declared that he had been justly acquitted by 
 the decree of the Council of Sardes. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 When, after an interval of some time had 
 elapsed, Athanasius, finding that Marcellus was 
 by no means sound in the faith, suspended him 
 from communion. And he had this degree of 
 modesty, that, being censured by the judgment 
 of so great a man, he voluntarily gave way. But 
 though at a former period innocent, yet con- 
 fessedly afterwards becoming heretical, it may 
 be allowed to conclude that he was really then 
 guilty when judgment was pronounced regard- 
 ing him. The Arians, then, finding an oppor- 
 tunity of that kind, conspire to subvert alto- 
 gether the decrees of the Synod of Sardes. For 
 a certain coloring of right seemed to be fur- 
 nished them in this fact, that a favorable judg- 
 ment had as unjustly been formed on the side 
 of Athanasius, as Marcellus had been improp- 
 erly acquitted, since now, even in the opinion 
 of Athanasius himself, he was deemed a heretic. 
 For Marcellus had stood forward as an upholder 
 of the Sabellian heresy. 1 But Photinus had 
 already brought forward a new heresy, differing 
 indeed from Sabellius with respect to the union 
 of the divine persons, but proclaiming that 
 Christ had his beginning in Mary. The Arians, 
 therefore, with cunning design, mix up what 
 was harmless with what was blameworthy, and 
 embrace, under the same judgment, the con- 
 demnation of Photinus, and Marcellus, and 
 Athanasius. They undoubtedly did this with 
 the view of leading the minds of the ignorant to 
 conclude, that those had not judged incorrectly 
 regarding Athanasius, who, it was admitted, had 
 expressed a well-based opinion respecting Mar- 
 cellus and Photinus. At that time, however, 
 the Arians concealed their treachery ; and 
 not daring openly to proclaim their erroneous 
 doctrines, they professed themselves Catholics. 
 They thought that their first great object should 
 be to get Athanasius turned out of the church, 
 who had always presented a wall of opposition 
 to their endeavors, and they hoped that, if he 
 were removed, the rest would pass over to their 
 evil 2 opinion. Now, that part of the bishops 
 which followed the Arians accepted the con- 
 demnation of Athanasius with delight. Another 
 part, constrained by fear and faction, yielded to 
 the wish of the Arian party ; and only a few, to 
 
 1 As Epiphanius remarks, Sabellius taught that the Father, 
 Son, and Holy Ghost were all the same person, only under different 
 appellations. 
 
 2 " libidinem." 
 
-THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 "5 
 
 whom the true faith was dearer than any other 
 consideration, refused to accept their unjust 
 judgment. Among these was Paulinus, the 
 bishop of Treves. It is related that he, when 
 a letter on the subject was placed before him, 
 thus wrote, that he gave his consent to the con- 
 demnation of Photinus and Marcellus, but did 
 not approve that of Athanasius. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 But then the Arians, seeing that stratagem 
 did not succeed, determined to proceed by 
 force. For it was easy for those to attempt 
 and carry out anything who were supported by 
 the favor of the monarch, whom they had 
 thoroughly won over to themselves by wicked 
 flatteries. Moreover, they were by the consent 
 of all unconquerable ; for almost all the bishops 
 of the two Pannonias, and many of the Eastern 
 bishops, and those throughout all Asia, had 
 joined in their unfaithfulness. But the chief 
 men in that evil company were Ursatius of 
 Singidunum, Valens of Mursa, Theodorus of 
 Heraclia, Stephanus of Antioch, Acatius 
 of Caesarea, Menofantus of Ephesus, Georgius 
 of Laodicia, and Narcissus of Neronopolis. 
 These had got possession of the palace to such 
 an extent that the emperor did nothing without 
 their concurrence. He was indeed at the beck 
 of all of them, but was especially under the in- 
 fluence of Valens. For at that time, when a 
 battle was fought at Mursa against Magnentius, 
 Constantius had not the courage to go down to 
 witness for himself the conflict, but took up his 
 abode in a church of the martyrs which stood 
 outside the town, Valens who was then the 
 bishop of the place being with him to keep up 
 his courage. But Valens had cunningly ar- 
 ranged, through means of his agents, that he 
 should be the first to be made acquainted with 
 the result of the battle. He did this either to 
 gain the favor of the king, if he should be the 
 first to convey to him good news, or with a view 
 to saving his own life, since he would obtain 
 time for flight, should the issue prove unfortu- 
 nate. Accordingly, the few persons who were 
 with the king being in a state of alarm, and the 
 emperor himself being a prey to anxiety, Valens 
 was the first to announce to them the flight of 
 the enemy. When Constantius requested that 
 the person who had brought the news should be 
 introduced to his presence, Valens, to increase 
 the reverence felt for himself, said that an angel 
 was the messenger who had come to him. The 
 emperor, who was easy of belief, was accustomed 
 afterwards openly to declare that he had won 
 the victory through the merits of Valens, and 
 not by the valor of his army. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 From this first proof that the prince had 
 been won over to their side, the Arians plucked 
 up their courage, knowing that they could make 
 use of the power of the king, when they could 
 make little impression by their own authority. 
 Accordingly, when our friends did not accept of 
 the judgment which they had pronounced in 
 regard to Athanasius, an edict was issued by the 
 emperor to the effect that those who did not sub- 
 scribe to the condemnation of Athanasius should 
 be sent into banishment. But, at that time, 
 councils of bishops were held by our friends at 
 Aries and Bitterae, towns situated in Gaul. They 
 requested that before any were compelled to sub- 
 scribe against Athanasius, they should rather enter 
 on a discussion as to the true faith ; and main- 
 tained that only then was a decision to be come 
 to respecting the point in question, when they 
 had agreed as to the person of the judges. 1 But 
 Valens and his confederates not venturing on 
 a discussion respecting the faith, first desired 
 to secure by force the condemnation of Athan- 
 asius. Owing to this conflict of parties, Pauli- 
 nus was driven into banishment. In the mean- 
 time, an assembly was held at Milan, where the 
 emperor then was ; but the same controversy was 
 there continued without any relaxation of its bit- 
 terness. Then Eusebius, bishop of the Vercel- 
 lenses, and Lucifer, bishop of Caralis 2 in Sardinia, 
 were exiled. Dionysius, however, priest of Milan, 
 subscribed to the condemnation of Athanasius, on 
 the condition that there should be an investiga- 
 tion among the bishops as to the true faith. But 
 Valens and Ursatius, with the rest of that party, 
 through fear of the people, who maintained the 
 Catholic faith with extraordinary enthusiasm, 
 did not venture to set forth in public their 
 monstrous 3 doctrines, but assembled within the 
 palace. From that place, and under the name of 
 the emperor, they issued a letter full 4 of all sorts 
 of wickedness, with this purpose, no doubt, that, 
 if the people gave it a favorable hearing, they 
 should then bring forward, under public au- 
 thority, the things which they desired ; but if it 
 should be received otherwise, that all the ill feel- 
 ing might be directed against the king, while his 
 mistake might be regarded as excusable, because 
 being then only a catechumen, he might readily 
 be supposed to have erred concerning the mys- 
 teries of the faith. Well, when the letter was 
 read in the church, the people expressed their 
 aversion to it. And Dionysius, because he did 
 not concur with them, was banished from the 
 city, while Auxentius was immediately chosen as 
 
 1 The text is here in utter confusion and uncertainty. Some for 
 " ac turn" read "nee turn," and some, instead of "judicum " read 
 "judicium." The meaning therefore can only be guessed at. 
 
 2 The modern Cagliari. 3 " Piacula profiteri." 
 4 Instead of " refertam," some read " infectam. " 
 
n6 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 bishop in his place. Liberius, too, bishop of 
 the city of Rome, and Hilarius, bishop of Poic- 
 tiers, were driven into exile. Rhodanius, also, 
 bishop of Toulouse (who, being by nature of a 
 softer disposition, had resisted the Arians, not 
 so much from his own powers as from his fellow- 
 ship with Hilarius) was involved in the same 
 punishment. All these persons, however, were 
 prepared to suspend Athanasius from commun- 
 ion, only in order that an inquiry mignt be in- 
 stituted among the bishops as to the true faith. 
 But it seemed best to the Arians to withdraw the 
 most celebrated men from the controversy. Ac- 
 cordingly, those whom we have mentioned above 
 were driven into exile, forty-five years ago, when 
 Arbitio and Lollianus were consuls. Liberius, 
 however, was, a little afterwards, restored to the 
 city, in consequence of the disturbances at 
 Rome. But it is well known that the persons 
 exiled were celebrated by the admiration of the 
 whole world, and that abundant supplies of 
 money were collected to meet their wants, while 
 they were visited by deputies of the Catholic 
 people from almost all the provinces. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 In the meantime, the Arians, not secretly, as 
 before, but openly and publicly proclaimed their 
 monstrous heretical doctrines. Moreover, they 
 interpreted after their own views the Synod of 
 Nicsea, and by the addition of one letter to its 
 finding, threw a sort of obscurity over the truth. 
 For where the expression Homoousion had been 
 written, which denotes " of one substance," they 
 maintained that it was written Homoiousion, 
 which simply means " of like substance." They 
 thus granted a likeness, but took away unity ; 
 for likeness is very different from unity ; just as, 
 for illustration's sake, a picture of a human body 
 might be like a man, and yet possess nothing of 
 the reality of a man. But some of them went 
 even farther, and maintained Anomoiousia, that 
 is, an unlike substance. And to such a pitch 
 did these controversies extend, that the wide 
 world was involved in these monstrous errors. 
 For Valens and Ursatius, with their supporters, 
 whose names we have stated, infected Italy, 
 Illyria, and the East with these opinions. Satur- 
 ninus, bishop of Aries, a violent and factious 
 man, harassed our country of Gaul in like man- 
 ner. There was also a prevalent belief that 
 Osius from Spain had gone over to the same 
 unfaithful party, which appears all the more 
 wonderful and incredible on this account, that 
 he had been, almost during his whole life, the 
 most determined upholder of our views, and the 
 Synod of Nice was regarded as having been held 
 at his instigation. If he did go over, the reason 
 
 may have been that in his extreme old age (for 
 he was then more than a centenarian, as St. 
 Hilarius relates in his epistles) he had fallen 
 into dotage. While the world was disturbed by 
 these things, and the churches were languishing 
 as if from a sort of disease, an anxiety, less 
 exciting indeed, but no less serious, pressed 
 upon the emperor, that although the Arians, 
 whom he favored, appeared the stronger, yet 
 there was still no agreement among the bishops 
 concerning; the faith. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 Accordingly, the emperor orders a Synod to 
 assemble at Ariminum, a city of Italy, and in- 
 structs Taurus the prefect, not to let them sepa- 
 rate, after they were once assembled, until they 
 should agree as to one faith, at the same time 
 promising him the consulship, if he carried the 
 affair to a successful termination. Imperial ' 
 officers, therefore, being sent through Illyria, 
 Italy, Africa, and the two Gauls, four hundred 
 and rather more Western bishops were sum- 
 moned or compelled to assemble at Ariminum ; 
 and for all of these the emperor had ordered 
 provisions 2 and lodgings to be provided. But 
 that appeared unseemly to the men of our part 
 of the world, that is, to the Aquitanians, the 
 Gauls, and Britons, so that refusing the public 
 supplies, they preferred to live at their own 
 expense. Three only of those from Britain, 
 through want of means of their own, made use 
 of the public bounty, after having refused con- 
 tributions offered by the rest ; for they thought 
 it more dutiful to burden the public treasury 
 than individuals. I have heard that Gavidius, 
 our bishop, was accustomed to refer to this con- 
 duct in a censuring sort of way, but I would be 
 inclined to judge far otherwise ; and I hold it 
 matter of admiration that the bishops had noth- 
 ing of their own, while they did not accept 
 assistance from others rather than from the 
 public treasury, so that they burdened nobody. 
 In both points, they thus furnished us with a 
 noble example. Nothing worthy of mention is 
 recorded of the others ; but I return to the sub- 
 ject in hand. After all the bishops had been 
 collected together, as we have said, a separation 
 of parties took place. Our friends 3 take pos- 
 session of the church, while the Arians select, as 
 a place for prayer, a temple which was then in- 
 tentionally standing empty. But these did not 
 amount to more than eighty persons : the rest 
 belonged to our party. Well, after frequent 
 meetings had been held, nothing was really 
 
 1 " magistris officialibus ": Halm reads " magistri." 
 
 2 " annonas et cellaria." 
 
 3 Of course, the Catholics, or orthodox. 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 117 
 
 accomplished, our friends continuing in the 
 faith, and the others not abandoning their un- 
 faithfulness. At length it was resolved to send 
 ten deputies to the emperor, that he might learn 
 what was the faith or opinion of the parties, and 
 might know that there could be no peace with 
 heretics. The Arians do the same thing, and 
 send a like number of deputies, who should con- 
 tend with our friends in the presence of the 
 emperor. But on the part of our people, young 
 men of but little learning and little prudence 
 had been selected ; while, on the side of the 
 Arians, old men were sent, skillful and abounding 
 in talent, thoroughly imbued, too, with their old 
 unfaithful doctrines ; and these easily got the 
 upper hand with the prince. But our friends 
 had been specially charged not to enter into any 
 kind of communion with the Arians, and to 
 reserve every point, in its entirety, for discussion 
 in a Synod. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 IjST the meantime in the East, after the example 
 of the West, the emperor ordered almost all the 
 bishops to assemble at Seleucia, a town of 
 Isauria. x\t that time, Hilarius, who was now 
 spending the fourth year of his exile in Phrygia, 
 is compelled to be present among the other 
 bishops, the means of a public conveyance 
 being furnished to him by the lieutenant l and 
 governor. As, however, the emperor had given 
 no special orders regarding him, the judges, 
 simply following the general order by which 
 they were commanded to gather all bishops to 
 the council, sent him also among the rest who 
 were willing to go. This was done, as I imagine, 
 by the special ordination of God, in order that 
 a man who was most deeply instructed in divine 
 things, might be present when a discussion was 
 to be carried on respecting the faith. He, on 
 arriving at Seleucia, was received with great 
 favor, and drew the minds and affections of all 
 towards himself. His first inquiry was as to the 
 real faith of the Gauls, because at that time the 
 Arians had spread evil reports regarding us, and 
 we were held suspected by the Easterns as hav- 
 ing embraced the belief of Sabellius, to the 
 effect that the unity of the one God was simply 
 distinguished 2 by a threefold name. But after 
 he had set forth his faith in harmony with those 
 conclusions which had been reached by the 
 fathers at Nicaea, he bore his testimony in 
 favor of the Westerns. Thus the minds of all 
 having been satisfied, he was admitted to com- 
 
 1 " per vicarium ac prsesidem": as Vorstius remarks, these were 
 the two magistrates of Phrygia. 
 
 2 " trionymam solitarii Dei unionem": Hornius here remarks 
 that" Sabellius believed that the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
 Spirit were the same, and differed among themselves only in name." 
 
 munion, and being also received into alliance, 
 was added to the council. They then pro- 
 ceeded to actual work, and the originators of 
 the wicked heresy being discovered, were sepa- 
 rated from the body of the Church. In that 
 number were Georgius of Alexandria, Acacius, 
 Eudoxius, Vranius, Leontius, Theodosius, Eva- 
 grius, Theodulus. But when the Synod was 
 over, an embassy was appointed to go to the 
 emperor and make him acquainted with what 
 had been done. Those who had been con- 
 demned also went to the prince, relying upon 
 the power of their confederates, and a common 
 cause with the monarch. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 In the meantime, the emperor compels those 
 deputies of our party who had been sent from 
 the council at Ariminum to join in communion 
 with the heretics. At the same time, he hands 
 them a confession of faith which had been 
 drawn up by these wicked men, and which, 
 being expressed in deceptive terms, seemed to 
 exhibit the Catholic faith, while unfaithfulness 
 secretly lay hid in it. For under an appearance 
 of false reasoning, it abolished the use of the 
 word Ousia as being ambiguous, and as having 
 been too hastily adopted by the fathers, while 
 it rested upon no Scriptural authority. The 
 object of this was that the Son might not be 
 believed to be of one substance with the Father. 
 The same confession of faith acknowledged that 
 the Son was like the Father. But deception was 
 carefully prepared within the words, in order 
 that he might be like, but not equal. Thus, 
 the deputies being sent away, orders were given 
 to the prefect that he should not dissolve the 
 Synod, until all professed by their subscriptions 
 their agreement to the declaration of faith which 
 had been drawn up ; and if any should hold 
 back with excessive obstinacy, they should be 
 driven into banishment, provided their number 
 did not amount to fifteen. But when the depu- 
 ties returned, they were refused communion, 
 although they pleaded the force which had been 
 brought to bear upon them by the king. For 
 when it was discovered what had been decreed, 
 greater disturbance arose in their affairs and 
 purposes. Then by degrees numbers of our 
 people, partly overcome through the weakness 
 of their character, and partly influenced by the 
 thought of a weary journeying into foreign lands, 
 surrendered to the opposite party. These were 
 now, on the return of the deputies, the stronger 
 of the two bodies, and had taken possession 
 of the church, our friends being driven out of 
 it. And when the minds of our people once 
 began to incline in that direction, they rushed 
 
II! 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 in flocks over to the other side, until the num- 
 ber of our friends was diminished down to 
 twenty. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 But these, the fewer they became, showed 
 themselves all the more powerful ; as the most 
 steadfast among them was to be reckoned our 
 friend Foegadius, and Servatio, bishop of the 
 Tungri. As these had not yielded to threats 
 and terrors, Taurus assails them with entreaties, 
 and beseeches them with tears to adopt milder 
 counsels. He argued that the bishops were 
 now in the seventh month since they had been 
 shut up within one city — that no hope of 
 returning home presented itself to them, worn 
 out by the inclemency of winter and positive 
 want ; and what then would be the end ? He 
 urged them to follow the example of the ma- 
 jority, and to derive authority for so doing at 
 least from the numbers who had preceded them. 
 For Foegadius openly declared that he was pre- 
 pared for banishment, and for every kind of 
 punishment that might be assigned him, but 
 would not accept that confession of faith which 
 had been drawn up by the Arians. Thus several 
 days passed in this sort of discussion. And when 
 they made little progress towards a pacification, 
 by degrees Foegadius began to yield, and at the 
 last was overcome by a proposal which was made 
 to him. For Valens and Ursatius affirmed that 
 the present confession of faith was drawn up on 
 the lines of Catholic doctrine, and having been 
 brought forward by the Easterns at the instiga- 
 tion of the emperor, could not be rejected with- 
 out impiety ; and what possible end of strife 
 could there be if a confession which satisfied 
 the Easterns was rejected by those of the West? 
 Finally, if there appeared anything less fully 
 stated in the present confession than was de- 
 sirable, they themselves should add what they 
 thought ought to be added, and that they, for 
 their part, would acquiesce in those things which 
 might be added. This friendly profession was 
 received with favorable minds by all. Nor did 
 our people venture any longer to make opposi- 
 tion, desiring as they did in some way or other 
 now to put an end to the business. Then con- 
 fessions drawn up by Foegadius and Servatio 
 began to be published ; and in these first Arius 
 and his whole unfaithful scheme was condemned, 
 while the Son of God also was l pronounced equal 
 to the Father, and without beginning, [that is] 
 without any commencement 2 in time. Then 
 
 1 The text is very uncertain; we have followed that of Halm, 
 but the common text inserts a" non," and reads thus: " but the Son 
 of God is not pronounced equal to the Father, and without begin- 
 ning," etc. 
 
 2 " sine tempore." 
 
 Valens, as if assisting our friends, subjoined the 
 statement (in which there lurked a secret guile) 
 that the Son of God was not a creature like the 
 other creatures ; and the deceit involved in this 
 declaration escaped the notice of the hearers. 
 For in these words, in which the Son was denied 
 to be like the other creatures, he was neverthe- 
 less pronounced a creature, only superior to the 
 rest. Thus neither party could hold that it had 
 wholly conquered or had wholly been conquered, 
 since the confession itself was in favor of the 
 Arians, but the declarations afterwards added 
 were in favor of our friends. That one, how- 
 ever, must be excepted which Valens had sub- 
 joined, and which, not being at the time under- 
 stood, was at length comprehended when it was 
 too late. In this way, at any rate, the council 
 was brought to an end, a council which had a 
 good beginning but a disgraceful conclusion. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 Thus, then, the Arians, with their affairs in a 
 very flourishing condition, and everything turn- 
 ing out according to their wishes, go in a body 
 to Constantinople where the emperor was. 
 There they found the deputies from the Synod 
 of Seleucia, and compel them by an exercise of 
 the royal power to follow the example of the 
 Westerns, and accept that heretical confession 
 of faith. Numbers who refused were tortured 
 with painful imprisonment and hunger, so that 
 at length they yielded their conscience captive. 
 But many who resisted more courageously, 
 being deprived of their bishoprics, were driven 
 into exile, and others substituted in their place. 
 Thus, the best priests being either terrified by 
 threats, or driven into exile, all gave way before 
 the unfaithfulness of a few. Hilarius was there 
 at the time, having followed the deputies from 
 Seleucia ; and as no certain orders had been 
 given regarding him, he was waiting on the will 
 of the emperor to see whether perchance he 
 should be ordered to return into banishment. 
 When he perceived the extreme danger into 
 which the faith had been brought, inasmuch as 
 the Westerns had been beguiled, and the East- 
 erns were being overcome by means of wicked- 
 ness, he, in three papers publicly presented, 
 begged an audience of the king, in order that 
 he might debate on points of faith in the pres- 
 ence of his adversaries. But the Arians opposed 
 that to the utmost extent of their ability. Fi- 
 nally, Hilarius was ordered to return to Gaul, as 
 being a sower * of discord, and a troubler of the 
 East, while the sentence of exile against him 
 remained uncanceled. But when he had wan- 
 dered over almost the whole earth which was in- 
 
 1 " seminarium": lit. seed-plot. 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 119 
 
 fected with the evil of unfaithfulness, his mind 
 was full of doubt and deeply agitated with the 
 mighty burden of cares which pressed upon it. 
 Perceiving that it seemed good to many not to 
 enter into communion with those who had ac- 
 knowledged the Synod of Ariminum, he thought 
 the best thing he could do was to bring back all 
 to repentance and reformation. In frequent 
 councils within Gaul, and while almost all the 
 bishops publicly owned the error that had been 
 committed, he condemns the proceedings at 
 Ariminum, and frames anew the faith of the 
 churches after its pristine form. Saturninus, 
 however, bishop of Aries, who was, in truth, a 
 very bad man, of an evil and corrupt character, 
 resisted these sound measures. He was, in fact, 
 a man who, besides the infamy of being a here- 
 tic, was convicted of many unspeakable crimes, 
 and cast out of the Church. Thus, having lost 
 its leader, the strength of the party opposed to 
 Hilarius was broken. Paternus also of Petro- 
 corii, 2 equally infatuated, and not shrinking from 
 openly professing unfaithfulness, was expelled 
 from the priesthood : pardon was extended to 
 the others. This fact is admitted by all, that 
 our regions of Gaul were set free from the guilt 
 of heresy through the kind efforts of Hilarius 
 alone. But Lucifer, who was then at Antioch, 
 held a very different opinion. For he con- 
 demned those who assembled at Ariminum to 
 such an extent, that he even separated him- 
 self from the communion of those who had 
 received them as friends, after they had made 
 satisfaction or exhibited penitence. Whether 
 this resolution of his was right or wrong, I will 
 not take upon me to say. Paulinus and Rho- 
 danius died in Phrygia ; Hilarius died in his 
 native country in the sixth year after his return. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 There follow the times of our own day, both 
 difficult and dangerous. In these the churches 
 have been defiled with no ordinary evil, and all 
 things thrown into confusion. For then, for the 
 first time, the infamous heresy of the Gnostics 
 was detected in Spain — a deadly : supersti- 
 tion which concealed itself under mystic 2 rites. 
 The birthplace of that mischief was the East, 
 and specially Egypt, but from what beginnings 
 it there sprang up and increased is not easy to 
 explain. Marcus was the first to introduce it 
 into Spain, having set out from Egypt, his birth- 
 place being Memphis. His pupils were a cer- 
 tain Agape, a woman of no mean origin, and a 
 
 2 The modern Periviii>iix. 
 
 1 "superstitio exitiahilis ": the very words which Tacitus em- 
 ploys^ when speaking of Christianity itself {Anna!, xv. 44). 
 ^ - " arcanis occultata secretis": it is impossible to say what is 
 tne exact meaning of these words. 
 
 rhetorician named Helpidius. By these again 
 Priscillian was instructed, a man of noble birth, 
 of great riches, bold, restless, eloquent, learned 
 through much reading, very ready at debate and 
 discussion — in fact, altogether a happy man, if 
 he had not ruined an excellent intellect by 
 wicked studies. Undoubtedly, there were to 
 be seen in him many admirable qualities both 
 of mind and body. He was aide to spend much 
 time in watchfulness, and to endure both hunger 
 and thirst ; he had little desire for amassing 
 wealth, and he was most economical in the use 
 of it. Put at the same time he was a very vain 
 man, and was much more puffed up than he 
 ought to have been with the knowledge of mere 
 earthly 3 things: moreover, it was believed that 
 he had practised magical arts from his boyhood. 
 He, after having himself adopted the pernicious 
 system referred to, drew into its acceptance 
 many persons of noble rank and multitudes of 
 the common people by the arts of persuasion 
 and flattery which he possessed. Besides this, 
 women who were fond of novelties and of un- 
 stable faith, as well as of a prurient curiosity in 
 all things, flocked to him in crowds. It in- 
 creased this tendency that he exhibited, a kind 
 of humility in his countenance and manner, and 
 thus excited in all a greater honor and respect 
 for himself. And now by degrees the wasting 
 disorder of that heresy 4 had pervaded the most 
 of Spain, and even some of the bishops came 
 under its depraving influence. Among these, 
 Instantius and Salvianus had taken up the cause 
 of Priscillian, not only by expressing their con- 
 currence in his views, but even by binding them- 
 selves to him with a kind of oath. This went on 
 until Hyginus, bishop of Cordova, who dwelt in 
 the vicinity, found out how matters stood, and 
 reported the whole to Ydacius, priest of Eme- 
 rita. But he, by harassing Instantius and his 
 confederates without measure, and beyond what 
 the occasion called for, applied, as it were, a 
 torch to the growing conflagration, so that he 
 rather exasperated than suppressed these evil 
 men. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI I. 
 
 So, then, after many controversies among them, 
 which are not worthy of mention, a Synod was 
 assembled at Saragossa, at which even the Aqui- 
 tanian bishops were present. But the heretics 
 did not venture to submit themselves to the judg- 
 ment of the council ; sentence, however, was 
 passed against them in their absence, and In- 
 stantius and Salivanus, bishops, with Helpidius 
 and Priscillian, laymen, were condemned. It 
 was also added that if any one should admit the 
 
 3 " profanarum rerum." 
 
 : perfidise istius." 
 
120 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 condemned persons to communion, he should 
 understand that the same sentence would be 
 pronounced against himself. And the duty was 
 entrusted to Ithacius, bishop of Sossuba, of 
 seeing that the decree of the bishops was brought 
 to the knowledge of all, and that Hyginus es- 
 pecially should be excluded from communion, 
 who, though he had been the first to commence 
 open proceedings against the heretics, had after- 
 wards fallen away shamefully and admitted them 
 to communion. In the meantime, Instantius 
 and Salvianus, having been condemned by the 
 judgment of the priests, appoint as bishop in the 
 "town of Aries, Priscillian, a layman indeed, but 
 the leader in all these troubles, and who had 
 been condemned along with themselves in the 
 Synod at Saragossa. This they did with the 
 view of adding to their strength, doubtless im- 
 agining that, if they armed with sacerdotal au- 
 thority a man of bold and subtle character, they 
 would find themselves in a safer position. But 
 then Ydacius and Ithacius pressed forward their 
 measures more ardently, in the belief that the 
 mischief might be suppressed at its beginning. 
 With unwise counsels, however, they applied to 
 secular judges, that by their decrees and prose- 
 cutions the heretics might be expelled from the 
 cities. Accordingly, after many disgraceful 
 squabbles, a rescript was, on the entreaty of 
 Ydacius, obtained from Gratianus, who was then 
 emperor, in virtue of which all heretics were 
 enjoined not only to leave churches or cities, but 
 to be driven forth beyond all the territory under 1 
 his jurisdiction. When this edict became known, 
 the Gnostics, distrusting their own affairs, did 
 not venture to oppose the judgment, but those 
 of them who bore the name of bishops gave way 
 of their own accord, while fear scattered the 
 rest. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 And then Instantius, Salvianus, and Priscillian 
 set out for Rome, in order that before Damasus, 
 who was at that time the bishop of the city, they 
 might clear themselves of the charges brought 
 against them. Well, their journey led them 
 through the heart of Aquitania, and being there 
 received with great pomp by such as knew no 
 better, they spread the seeds of their heresy. 
 Above all, they perverted by their evil teachings 
 the people of Elusa, who were then of a good 
 and religious disposition. They were driven 
 forth from Bordeaux by Delfinus, yet lingering 
 for a little while in the territory of Euchrotia, 1 
 they infected some with their errors. They then 
 pursued the journey on which they had entered, 
 attended by a base and shameful company, among 
 
 1 The text has merely " extra omnes terras." 
 - Some read Euclirocia, and so afterwards. 
 
 whom were their wives and even strange women. 
 In the number of these was Euchrotia and her 
 daughter Procula, of the latter of whom there 
 was a common report that, when pregnant through 
 adultery with Priscillian, she procured abortion 
 by the use of certain plants. When they reached 
 Rome with the wish of clearing themselves be- 
 fore Damasus, they were not even admitted to 
 his presence. Returning to Milan, they found 
 that Ambrose was equally opposed to them. 
 Then they changed their plans, with the view 
 that, as they had not got the better of the two 
 bishops, who were at that time possessed of the 
 highest authority, they might, by bribery and 
 flattery, obtain what they desired from the em- 
 peror. Accordingly, having won over Macedo- 
 nius, who was the master 2 of public services, 
 they procured a rescript, by which, those decrees 
 which had formerly been made being trampled 
 under foot, they were ordered to be restored to 
 their churches. Relying upon this, Instantius 
 and Priscillian made their way back to Spain 
 (for Salvianus had died in the city) ; and they 
 then, without any struggle, recovered the churches 
 over which they had ruled. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 But the power, not the will, to resist, failed 
 Ithacius ; for the heretics had won over by bribes 
 Voluentius, the proconsul, and thus consolidated 
 their own power. Moreover, Ithacius was put 
 on his trial, by these men as being a disturber 
 of the churches, and he having been ordered as 
 the result of a fierce prosecution, to be carried 
 off 1 as a prisoner, fled in terror into Gaul, where 
 he betook himself to Gregory the prefect. He, 
 after he learned what had taken place, orders 
 the authors of these tumults to be brought before 
 himself, and makes a report on all that had 
 occurred to the emperor, in order that he might 
 close against the heretics every means of flattery 
 or bribery. But that was done in vain ; because, 
 through the licentiousness and power of a few, 
 all things were there to be purchased. Accord- 
 ingly, the heretics by their artifices, having 
 presented Macedonius with a large sum of 
 money, secure that, by the imperial authority, 
 the hearing of the trial was taken from the pre- 
 fect, and transferred to the lieutenant in Spain. 
 By that time, the Spaniards had ceased to have 
 a proconsul as ruler, and officials were sent 
 by the Master to bring back to Spain Ithacius 
 who was then living at Treves. He, however, 
 craftily escaped them, and being subsequently de- 
 fended by the bishop Pritannius, he set them at 
 
 2 " magistro officiorum." 
 
 1 This appears to be the meaning, but the text is obscure. 
 
THE SACRED HISTORY OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 121 
 
 defiance. Then, too, a faint 2 rumor had spread 
 that Maximus had assumed imperial power in 
 Britain, and would, in a short time, make an 
 incursion into Gaul. Accordingly, Ithacius then 
 resolved, although his affairs were in a ticklish 
 state, to wait the arrival of the new emperor ; 
 and that, in the meantime, no step should on 
 his part be taken. When therefore Maximus, 
 as victor, entered the town of the Treveri, he 
 poured forth entreaties full of ill-will and accusa- 
 tions against Priscillian and his confederates. 
 The emperor influenced by these statements, 
 sent letters to the prefeet of Gaul and to the 
 lieutenant in Spain, ordering that all whom that 
 disgraceful 3 heresy had affected should be 
 brought to a Synod at Bordeaux. Accordingly, 
 Instantius and Priscillian were escorted thither, 
 and, of these, Instantius was enjoined to plead 
 his cause ; and after he was found unable to 
 clear himself, he was pronounced unworthy of 
 the office of a bishop. But Priscillian, in order 
 that he might avoid being heard by the bishops, 
 appealed to the emperor. And that was per- 
 mitted to be done through the want of resolution 
 on the part of our friends, who ought either to 
 have passed a sentence even against one who 
 resisted it, or, if they were regarded as them- 
 selves suspicious persons, should have reserved 
 the hearing for other bishops, and should not 
 have transferred to the emperor a cause involv- 
 ing such manifest offences. 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 Thus, then, all whom the process embraced 
 were brought before the king. The bishops 
 Ydacius and Ithacius followed as accusers ; and 
 I would by no means blame their zeal in over- 
 throwing heretics, if they had not contended 
 for victory with greater keenness than was fitting. 
 And my feeling indeed is, that the accusers were 
 as distasteful to me as the accused. I certainly 
 hold that Ithacius had no worth or holiness 
 about him. For he was a bold, loquacious, 
 impudent, and extravagant man ; excessively 
 devoted to the pleasures of sensuality. He 
 proceeded even to such a pitch of folly as to 
 charge all those men, however holy, who either 
 took delight in reading, or made it their object 
 to vie with each other in the practice of fasting, 
 with being friends or disciples of Priscillian. 
 The miserable wretch even ventured publicly to 
 bring forward a disgraceful charge of heresy 
 against Martin, who was at that time a bishop, 
 and a man clearly worthy of being compared to 
 the Apostles. For Martin, being then settled at 
 Treves, did not cease to importune Ithacius, 
 
 2 " clemens " : some read " Clementen," and join it with " Max- 
 imum." 3 "labes ilia." 
 
 that he should give up his accusations, or to 
 implore Maximus that he should not shed the 
 blood of the unhappy persons in question. He 
 maintained that it was quite sufficient punish- 
 ment that, having been declared heretics by a 
 sentence of the bishops, they should have been 
 expelled from the churches ; and that it was, 
 besides, a foul and unheard-of indignity, that a 
 secular ruler should be judge in an ecclesiastical 
 cause. And, in fact, as long as Martin survived, 
 the trial was put off; while, when he was about 
 to leave this world, he, by his remarkable influ- 
 ence, obtained a promise from Maximus, that 
 no cruel measure would be resolved on with 
 respect to the guilty persons. But subsequently, 
 the emperor being led astray by Magnus and 
 Rufus, and turned from the milder course which 
 Martin had counseled, entrusted the case to the 
 prefect Evodius, a man of stern and severe 
 character. He tried Priscillian in two assemblies, 
 and convicted him of evil conduct. In . fact, 
 Priscillian did not deny that he had given him- 
 self up to lewd doctrines ; had been accustomed 
 to hold, by night, gatherings . of vile women, 
 and to pray in a state of nudity. Accordingly, 
 Evodius pronounced him guilty, and sent him 
 back to prison, until he had time to consult 
 the emperor. The matter, then, in all its de- 
 tails, was reported to the palace, and the em- 
 peror decreed that Priscillian and his friends 
 should be put to death. 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 But Ithacius, seeing how much ill-will it 
 would excite against him among the bishops, if 
 he should stand forth as accuser also at the last 
 trial on a capital charge (for it was requisite that 
 the trial should be repeated), withdrew from the 
 prosecution. His cunning, however, in thus 
 acting was in vain, as the mischief was already 
 accomplished. Well, a certain Patricius, an ad- 
 vocate connected with the treasury, was then 
 appointed accuser by Maximus. Accordingly, 
 under him as prosecutor, Priscillian was con- 
 demned to death, and along with him, Felicissi- 
 mus and Armenius, who, when they were clerics, 
 had lately adopted the cause of Priscillian, and 
 revolted from the Catholics. Latronianus, too, 
 and Euchrotia were beheaded. Instantius, who, 
 as we have said above, had been condemned by 
 the bishops, was transported to the island of 
 Sylina 1 which lies beyond Britain. A process 
 was then instituted against the others in trials 
 which followed, and Asarivus, and Aurelius the 
 deacon, were condemned to be beheaded, while 
 Tiberianus was deprived of his goods, and ban- 
 
 1 Halm prefers the form " Sylinancim" to " Sylinam. 
 erence is probably to the Scilly Isles. 
 
 The ref- 
 
122 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 ished to the island of Sylina. Tertullus, Pota- 
 mius, and Joannes, as being persons of less con- 
 sideration, and worthy of some merciful treat- 
 ment, inasmuch as before the trial they had 
 made a confession, both as to themselves and 
 their confederates, were sentenced to a tem- 
 porary banishment into Gaul. In this sort of 
 way, men who were most unworthy of the light 
 of day, were, in order that they might serve as 
 a terrible example to others, either put to death 
 or punished with exile. That conduct 2 which 
 he had at first defended by his right of appeal 
 to the tribunals, and by regard to the public 
 good, Ithacius, harassed 3 with invectives, and 
 at last overcome, threw the blame of upon 
 those, by whose direction and counsels he had 
 effected his object. Yet he was the only one of 
 all of them who was thrust out of the episcopate. 
 For Ydacius, although less guilty, had voluntarily 
 resigned his bishopric : that was wisely and 
 respectfully done, had he not afterward spoiled 
 the credit of such a step by endeavoring to re- 
 
 2 The meaning seems to be, that Ithacius being blamed for bring- 
 ing accusations against his brethren, at first defended his conduct by 
 an appeal to the laws and the public weal, both of which justified 
 the prosecution of heretics; but being at last driven from this posi- 
 tion, he turned round and cast the blame upon those for whom 
 he had acted. 
 
 3 Some read " solitus," instead of " sollicitus." 
 
 cover the position which had been lost. Well, 
 after the death of Priscillian, not only was the 
 heresy not suppressed, which, under him, as its 
 author, had burst forth, but acquiring strength, 
 it became more widely spread. For his follow- 
 ers who had previously honored him as a saint, 
 subsequently began to reverence him as a mar- 
 tyr. The bodies of those who had been put to 
 death were conveyed to Spain, and their funerals 
 were celebrated with great pomp. Nay, it came 
 to be thought the highest exercise of religion to 
 swear by Priscillian. But between them and 
 our friends, a perpetual war of quarreling has 
 been kept up. And that conflict, after being 
 sustained for fifteen years with horrible dissen- 
 sion, could not by any means be set at rest. 
 And now all things were seen to be disturbed 
 and confused by the discord, especially of the 
 bishops, while everything was corrupted by them 
 through their hatred, partiality, fear, faithless- 
 ness, envy, factiousness, lust, avarice, pride, 
 sleepiness, and inactivity. In a word, a large 
 number were striving with insane plans and ob- 
 stinate inclinations against a few giving wise 
 counsel : while, in the meantime, the people of 
 God, and all the excellent of the earth were 
 exposed to mockery and insult. 
 
THE COMMONITORY 
 
 OF 
 
 VINCENT OF LERINS, 
 
 FOR THE ANTIQUITY AND UNIVERSALITY OF THE CATHOLIC FAITH 
 AGAINST THE PROFANE NOVELTIES OF ALL HERESIES: 
 
 TRANSLATED BY 
 
 THE REV. C. A. HEURTLEY, D.D., 
 
 THE LADY MARGARET'S PROFESSOR OF DIVINITY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD, 
 AND CANON OF CHRIST CHURCH. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 INTRODUCTION 127 
 
 Chapter I. — The Object of the Following Treatise 131 
 
 Chapter II. — A General Rule for distinguishing the Truth of the Catholic Faith from the 
 
 Falsehood of Heretical Pravity 132 
 
 Chapter III. — A difficulty solved 133 
 
 Chapter IV. — The evil resulting from the introduction of Novel Doctrine exemplified in the 
 
 instances of the Donatists and Arians 133 
 
 Chapter V. — The Example of the Martyrs whom no force could deter from maintaining the 
 
 Faith of their Predecessors 134 
 
 Chapter VI. — The example of Pope Stephen in resisting the Iteration of Baptism ..... 134 
 Chapter VII. — How Heretics craftily cite obscure passages in ancient writers in support of 
 
 their novelties m . . 136 
 
 Chapter VIII. — Exposition of St. Paul's words, Gal. i 136 
 
 Chapter IX. — St. Paul's warning to the Galatians a warning to all 137 
 
 Chapter X. — Why God permits Eminent Men to become Authors of Novelties 137 
 
 Chapter XI. — The words of Moses, Deut. xiii. 1, exemplified in the History of the Church . . 138 
 
 Chapter XII. — The Heresies of Photinus, Apollinaris, and Nestorius 139 
 
 Chapter XIII. — The Catholic Doctrine of the Trinity and of the Incarnation 140 
 
 Chapter XIV. — Jesus Christ very Man 141 
 
 Chapter XV. — The Word took our Nature in the Womb of the Blessed Virgin, whence She is 
 
 truly " Theotocos," the Mother of God 142 
 
 Chapter XVI. — Recapitulation of Chapters XIII., XIV., and XV 143 
 
 Chapter XVI I. — The Error of Origen a great Trial to the Church 143 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — Tertullian 145 
 
 Chapter XIX. — The Lessons taught by the foregoing Examples 145 
 
 Chapter XX. — The Characteristics of a true Catholic 146 
 
 Chapter XXI. — Exposition of 1 Tim. vi. 20 146 
 
 Chapter XXII. — The same continued 147 
 
 Chapter XXIII. — Of Development in Religious Doctrine 147 
 
 Chapter XXIV. — Renewed consideration of 1 Tim. vi. 20 149 
 
 Chapter XXV. — Heretics appeal to Scripture 150 
 
 Chapter XXVI. — Following therein the example of Satan 151 
 
 Chapter XXVII. — Rule for the Interpretation of Scripture 152 
 
 Chapter XXVIII. — Rules for the Detection of Heretical Novelties 152 
 
 Chapter XXIX. — Recapitulation of the subject matter of both Commonitories 153 
 
 Chapter XXX. — The Council of Ephesus 154 
 
 Chapter XXXI. — The Example set by the Fathers of the Council of Ephesus 155 
 
 Chapter XXXII. — The Example of Popes Celestine and Sixtus 155 
 
 Chapter XXXIII. — Conclusion '. 156 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Very little is known of the author of the following Treatise. He writes under the 
 assumed name of Peregrinus, but Gennadius of Marseilles, 1 who flourished a.d. 495, some 
 sixty years after its date, ascribes it to Vincentius, an inmate of the famous monastery of 
 Lerins, in the island of that name, 2 and his ascription has been universally accepted. 
 
 Vincentius was of Gallic nationality. In earlier life he had been engaged in secular 
 pursuits, whether civil or military is not clear, though the term he uses, "secularis militia," 
 might possibly imply the latter. He refers to the Council of Ephesus, held in the summer 
 and early autumn of 431, as having been held some three years previously to the time at 
 which he was writing " ante triennium ferine." 3 This gives the date of the Commonitory 
 434. Cyril, bishop of Alexandria, was still living. 4 Sixtus the Third had succeeded to 
 the See of Rome; 5 his predecessor, Celestine, having died in 432. Gennadius says that 
 Vincentius died, "Theodosio et Valentiniano regnantibus. " 6 Theodosius died, leaving 
 Valentinian still reigning, in July, 450. Vincentius' death, therefore, must have occurred in 
 or before that year. 
 
 Baronius places his name in the Roman Martyrology, Tillemont doubts whether with 
 sufficient reason. 7 He is commemorated on the 24th of May. 
 
 Vincentius has been charged with Semipelagianism. Whether he actually held the 
 doctrine which was afterwards called by that name is not clear. Certainly the express 
 enunciation of it is nowhere to be found in the Commonitory. But it is extremely probable 
 that at least his sympathies were with those who held it. For not only does he omit the 
 name of St. Augustine, who was especially obnoxious to them, when making honorable 
 mention at any time of the champions of the faith, but he denounces his doctrine, though 
 under a misrepresentation of it, as one of the forms of that novel error which he reprobates. 8 
 Indeed, whoever will compare what he says in § 70 of the heresy which he describes but 
 forbears to name, with Prosper's account of the charges brought against Augustine by 
 certain Semipelagian clergymen of Marseilles, 9 will have little doubt that Vincentius and 
 they had the same teacher in view, and were of the same mind with regard to his teaching. 
 
 1 De Scrifitoribus Ecclesiasticis. Gennadius's work is to be found at the end of the second volume of Vallarsius's edition of St. 
 Jerome's works. 
 
 2 Now St. Honorat, so called from St. Honoratus, the founder of the monastery. 
 
 The monastery seems at first to have consisted of an aggregation of separate cells, each of which, according to the usage of that time, 
 would be called a " monasterium." " Tota ubique insula, exstructis cellulis, unum velut monasterium evasit." — Cardinal Noris, Histor. 
 Pelag. p. 251. "Monasterium potest unius monachi habitaculum nominari." — Cassian. Collat. xvii. iS. 
 
 Among its more prominent members, contemporary with Vincentius, were Honoratus and Hilary, afterwards successively bishops of 
 Aries, and Faustus, afterwards bishop of Riez, all of them in sympathy with the neighbouring clergy of Marseilles, opposed to St. Augustine's 
 later teaching, and holding what was afterwards called Semipelagian doctrine. 
 
 The adjoining islet of St. Marguerite, one of the LeVins group, has acquired notoriety of late, from having been the place to which Mar- 
 shal Bazaine, the betrayer of Metz, was banished in 1S73. 
 
 3 § 79- 4 § So. 6 § 85. c De Illustr. Eccles. Scrip, c. 84. 7 xv. p. 146. 
 
 8 Cardinal Noris does not hesitate to say of him, " Non modo Semipelagianum se prodit, sed disertis verbis Augustini discipuros 
 tanquam hasreticos traducit." — Historia Pelagiana, p. 245. See below, Appendix II. 
 
 9 See Prosper's letter to Augustine in Augustine's works, Ep. 225, Tom. ii. Ed. Paris, 1836, etc. 
 
 127 
 
128 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Be this however as it may, when it is considered that the monks of Lerins, in common with 
 the general body of the churchmen of Southern Gaul, were strenuous upholders of Semipela- 
 gianism, it will not be thought surprising that Vincentius should have been suspected of at 
 least a leaning in that direction. Tillemont, who forbears to express himself decidedly, but 
 evidently inclines to that view, says "L'opinion qui le condamne et l'abandonne aux Semi- 
 pelagiens passe aujourd'hui pour la plus commune parmi les savans." 1 
 
 It has been matter of question whether Vincentius is to be credited with the authorship 
 of the "Objectiones Vincentianae," a collection of Sixteen Inferences alleged to be dedu- 
 cible from St. Augustine's writings, which has come down to us in Prosper's Reply. 
 
 Its date coincides so nearly with that of the Commonitory as to preclude all doubt 
 as to the identity of authorship on that score, 2 and it must be confessed that its animus 
 and that of the 70th and 86th sections of the Commonitory are too much in keeping to make 
 it difficult to believe that both are from the same pen. 
 
 Vincentius's object in the following treatise is to provide himself, as he states, with a 
 general rule whereby to distinguish Catholic truth from heresy; and he commits what he has 
 learnt, he adds, to writing, that he may have it by him for reference as a Commonitory, or 
 Remembrancer, to refresh his memory. 
 
 This rule, in brief, is the authority of Holy Scripture. By that all questions must be 
 tried in the first instance. And it would be abundantly sufficient, but that, unfortunately, 
 men differ in the interpretation of Holy Scripture. The rule, therefore, must be supple- 
 mented by an appeal to that sense of Holy Scripture which is supported by universality, 
 antiquity, and consent: by universality, when it is the faith of the whole Church; by 
 antiquity, when it is that which has been held from the earliest times; by consent, when it 
 has been the acknowledged belief of all, or of almost all, whose office and character gave 
 authority to their determinations. This is the famous "Quod ubique, quod semper, quod ab 
 omnibus," with which Vincentius's name is associated." 8 The body of the work is taken 
 up with its illustration and application. 
 
 The work consisted originally of two books; but unfortunately the second was lost, or 
 rather, as Gennadius says, was stolen, while the author was still alive; and there remains 
 to us nothing but a recapitulation of its contents, which the authour, unwilling to encounter 
 the labour of re-writing the whole, has drawn up. 4 
 
 In prosecution of his purpose Vincentius proceeds to show how his rule applies for the 
 detection of error in the instances of some of the more notorious heretics and schismatics 
 who up to his time had made havoc of the Church, — the Donatists and the Arians, for 
 instance, and the maintainers of the iteration of Baptism; and how the great defenders of 
 the Faith were guided in their maintenance of the truth by its observance. 5 
 
 But the perplexing question occurs: Wherefore, in God's providence, were persons, 
 eminent for their attainments and their piety, such as Photinus, Apollinaris, and Nestorius, 
 permitted to fall into heresy? 6 To which the answer is, For the Church's trial. And 
 Vincentius proceeds to show, in the case of each of these, how great a trial to the Church 
 his fall was. This leads him to give an account of their erroneous teaching severally, 7 from 
 which he turns aside for a while to expound the Catholic doctrine of the Trinity as opposed 
 to the heresy of Photinus, and of the Incarnation as opposed to the heresies of Apollinaris 
 and Nestorius, in an exposition remarkable for its clearness and precision. 8 It contains so 
 much in common with the so-called Athanasian Creed, both as to the sentiments and the 
 
 1 T. xv. p. 146. 
 
 - The Objectiones Vincentianae must have been published at some time between the publication of St. Augustine's Antipelagian Treatises 
 and the death of Prosper. They are to be found in Prosper's Reply, contained in St. Augustine's works, Appendix, Tom. x. coll. 2535 
 et seq. Paris, 1S36, etc. 
 
 3 § 6. * §§ 77-SS. 5 §§ 9 m , 6 §§ 2? sqq . T §§ 32 sgq . t §§ 36 sgq. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 129 
 
 language, that some have inferred from it, that Vincentius was the author of that Formu- 
 lary. 1 
 
 Returning from this digression, Vincentius proceeds, after promising to deal with these 
 subjects more fully on a future occasion,' 2 to two other very signal instances of heretical 
 defection caused by the disregard of antiquity and universality; those of Origen 3 and 
 Tertullian, 4 of both of whom he draws a vivid picture, contrasting them, such as they were 
 before their fall with what they became afterwards, and enlarging on the grievous injury to 
 the Church generally, and the distressing trial to individuals in particular, consequent 
 upon their defection. 
 
 But it will be asked, Is Christian doctrine to remain at a standstill? Is there to be 
 no progresss, as in other sciences? 5 Undoubtedly there is to be progress; but it must be 
 real progress, analogous, for instance, to the growth of the human body from infancy to 
 childhood, from childhood to mature age; or to the development of a plant from the seed 
 to the full-grown vegetable or tree; it must be such as the elucidation of what was before 
 obscure, the following out into detail of what was before expressed only in general terms, 
 not the addition of new doctrine, not the rejection of old. 
 
 One difficulty which is not unlikely to perplex a simple Christian is the readiness with 
 which heretics appeal to Scripture, following therein the example of their arch-leader, who, 
 in his temptation of our Lord, dared to make use of arms drawn from that armoury. 7 This 
 leads to the question, How are we to ascertain the true sense of Scripture? And, in the 
 answer to it, to a more detailed exposition of the general rule given at the outset. 
 
 Scripture, then, must be interpreted in accordance with the tradition of the Catholic 
 Church, our guide being antiquity, universality, consent. 
 
 With regard to antiquity, that interpretation must be held to which has been handed 
 down from the earliest times; with regard to universality, that which has always been held, 
 if not by all, at least by the most part, in preference to that which has been held only by a 
 few; with regard to consent, the determination of a General Council on any point will of 
 course be of summary authority, and will hold the first place ; next to this, the interpre- 
 tation which has been held uniformly and persistently by all those Fathers, or by a majority 
 of them, who have lived and died in the communion of the Catholic Church. Accordingly, 
 whatsoever interpretation of Holy Scripture is opposed to an interpretation thus authenti- 
 cated, even though supported by the authority of one or another individual teacher, how- 
 ever eminent, whether by his position, or his attainments, or his piety, or by all of these 
 together, must be rejected as novel and unsound. 
 
 Here the first Commonitory ends; but it ends with a promise of a still further and more 
 detailed inquiry, to be prosecuted in the Commonitory which is to follow, into the way in 
 which the opinions of the ancient Fathers are to be collected, and the rule of faith deter- 
 mined in accordance with them. 
 
 Unfortunately that promise, however fulfilled according to the author's intention, has 
 been frustrated to his readers. The second Commonitory, as was said above, was lost, or 
 rather stolen, and all that remains to us is a brief and apparently partial recapitulation of 
 its contents and of the contents of the preceding. 
 
 1 Antelmi, Nova de Symbolo Athanasiano Disquisitio. See the note on § 42, Appendix I. 
 
 2 42. 3 §§ 44-46. 4 § 47 . 6 § 55 . 
 
 §§ 55 _6 °- For instances in point, he might have referred to the enlargement and expansion of the earlier Creed, first in the Nicene, 
 afterward in the Constantinopolitan Formulary. Thus, in the Definition of the Faith of the Council of Chnlcedon, the Fathers are careful 
 to explain that they are making no addition to the original deposit, but simply unfolding and rendering more intelligible what before had 
 been less distinctly set forth : " Teaching in its fulness the doctrine which from the beginning hath remained unshaken, it decrees, in the 
 first place, that the Creed of the 31S (the original Nicene Creed) remain untouched; and on account of those who impugn the Holy Spirit, 
 it ratifies and confirms the doctrine subsequently delivered, concerning the essence of the Holy Spirit, by the hundred and fifty holy 
 Fathers, (the Constantinopolitan Creed), which they promulgated for universal acceptance, not as though they were supplying some 
 omission of their predecessors, but testifying in express words in writing their own minds concerning the Holy Spirit." 
 
 7 §§ 65 Sqq. 
 
130 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 In this Vincentius repeats the rule for ascertaining the Catholic doctrine which he had 
 laid down at the outset, enlarging especially upon the way in which the consent of the 
 Fathers is to be arrived at, and illustrating what he says by the course pursued by the 
 Council of Ephesus in the matter of Nestorius, — how the Fathers of the Council, instead 
 of resting upon their own judgment, eminent as many of them were, collected together the 
 opinions of the most illustrious of their predecessors, and following their consentient belief, 
 determined the question before them. To this most noteworthy example he adds the 
 authority of two bishops of Rome, Sixtus III., then occupying the Papal Chair, and 
 Celestine, his immediate predecessor, — the gist of the whole being the confirmation of the 
 rule which it had been his object to enforce throughout the Treatise — that profane novel- 
 ties must be rejected, and that faith alone adhered to which the universal Church has held 
 consentiently from the earliest times, Quod ubique, quod semper, quod ab omnibus. 
 
A COMMONITORY" 
 
 FOR THE ANTIQUITY AND UNIVERSALITY OF THE CATHOLIC FAITH 
 AGAINST THE PROFANE NOVELTIES OF ALL HERESIES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The Object of the Following Treatise. 
 
 [i.] I, Peregrinus, 2 who am the least of all 
 the servants of God, remembering the admo- 
 nition of Scripture, "Ask thy fathers and 
 they will tell thee, thine elders and they will 
 declare unto thee," 3 and again, "Bow down 
 thine ear to the words of the wise," 4 and 
 once more, "My son, forget not these instruc- 
 tions, but let thy heart keep my words : " 5 
 remembering these admonitions, I say, I, Pere- 
 grinus, am persuaded, that, the Lord helping 
 me, it will be of no little use and certainly as 
 regards my own feeble powers, it is most neces- 
 sary, that I should put down in writing the 
 things which I have truthfully received from 
 the holy Fathers, since I shall then have ready 
 at hand wherewith by constant reading to make 
 amends for the weakness of my memory. 
 
 [2.] To this I am incited not only by 
 regard to the fruit to be expected from my 
 labour but also by the consideration of time 
 and the opportuneness of place: 
 
 By the consideration of time, — for seeing 
 that time seizes upon all things human, we 
 also in turn ought to snatch from it some- 
 thing which may profit us to eternal life, 
 
 1 Commonitory. I have retained the original title in its angli- 
 cised form, already familiar to English ears in connection with the 
 name of Vincentius. Its meaning, as he uses it, is indicated suffi- 
 ciently, in § 3, "An aid to memory." Technically, it meant a Paper 
 of Instructions given to a person charged with a commission, to assist 
 his memory as to its details. 
 
 2 Peregrinus. It does not appear why Vincentius writes under an 
 assumed name. Vossius, with whom Cardinal Noris evidently agrees, 
 supposes that his object was to avoid openly avowing himself the author 
 of a work which covertly attacked St. Augustine. Vossius, Histor. 
 Pelag. p. 40. Ego quidem ad Vossii sententiam plane accessissem, 
 nisi tot delataa a sapientissimis Scriptoribus Commonitorio laudes 
 religionem mihi pene injecissent. —Noris, Histor. Pelag. p. 246. 
 
 3 Deut. xxxii. 7. 
 
 4 Prov. xxii. 17. 
 6 Prov. iii. 1. 
 
 especially since a certain awful expectation of 
 the approach of the divine judgment importu- 
 nately demands increased earnestness in reli- 
 gion, while the subtle craftiness of new heretics 
 calls for no ordinary, care and attention. 
 
 I am incited also by the opportuneness of 
 place, in that, avoiding the concourse and 
 crowds of cities, I am dwelling in the seclu- 
 sion of a Monastery, situated in a remote 
 grange, 6 where, I can follow without distrac- 
 tion the Psalmist's 7 admonition, "Be still, 
 and know that I am God." 
 
 Moreover, it suits well with my purpose 
 in adopting this life; for, whereas I was at 
 one time involved in the manifold and de- 
 plorable tempests of secular warfare, I have 
 now at length, under Christ's auspices, cast 
 anchor in the harbour of religion, a harbour 
 to all always most safe, in order that, having 
 there been freed from the blasts of vanity and 
 pride, and propitiating God by the sacrifice 
 of Christian humility, I may be able to 
 escape not only the shipwrecks of the present 
 life, but also the flames of the world to come. 
 
 [3.] But now, in the Lord's name, I will 
 set about the object I have in view; that is to 
 say, to record with the fidelity of a narrator 
 rather than the presumption of an author, the 
 things which our forefathers have handed 
 down to us and committed to our keeping, 
 yet observing this rule in what I write, that I 
 
 6 Noris, from this word, " villula," a grange or country house, 
 concludes that Vincentius, at the time of writing, though a monk, 
 was not a monk of Lerins, for there could be no "villula" there 
 then, Honoratus having found the island desolate and without 
 inhabitant, when he settled on it but a few years previously, " vacan- 
 tem insulam ob nimictatem squaloris, et inaccessam venenatorum 
 animalium metu." Histor. Pelag. p. 251. Why, however, may not 
 the " villula " have been built subsequently to Honoratus's settlement, 
 and indeed, as a part of it? Whether Vincentius was an inmate of 
 the monastery of Lerins at the time of writing the Commonitory or 
 not, he was so eventually, and died there. 
 
 7 Ps. xlvi. 10. 
 
 3 [ 
 
132 
 
 VINCENT OF LERINS. 
 
 shall by no means touch upon everything that 
 might be said, but only upon what is neces- 
 sary; nor yet in an ornate and exact style, but 
 in simple and ordinary language, 1 so that the 
 most part may seem to be intimated, rather 
 than set forth in detail. Let those cultivate 
 elegance and exactness who are confident of 
 their ability or are moved by a sense of duty. 
 For me it will be enough to have provided a 
 Commonitory (or Remembrancer) for myself, 
 such as may aid my memory, or rather, pro- 
 vide against my forgetfulness : which same 
 Commonitory however, I shall endeavor, the 
 Lord helping me, to amend and make more 
 complete by little and little, day by day, by 
 recalling to mind what I have learnt. I men- 
 tion this at the outset, that if by chance what 
 I write should slip out of my possession and 
 come into the hands of holy men, they may for- 
 bear to blame anything therein hastily, when 
 they see that there is a promise that it will yet 
 be amended and made more complete. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A General Rule for distinguishing the Truth of the Catholic 
 Faith from the Falsehood of Heretical Pravity. 
 
 [4.] I have often then inquired earn- 
 estly and attentively of very many men 
 eminent for sanctity and learning, how and 
 by what sure and so to speak universal rule 
 I may be able to distinguish the truth of 
 Catholic faith from the falsehood of heretical 
 pravity; and I have always, and in almost 
 every instance, received an answer to this 
 effect : That whether I or any one else should 
 wish to detect the frauds and avoid the snares 
 of heretics as they rise, and to continue sound 
 and complete in the Catholic faith, we must, 
 the Lord helping, fortify our own belief in 
 two ways; first, by the authority of the Divine 
 Law, and then, by the Tradition of the Catholic 
 Church. 
 
 [5.] But here some one perhaps will ask, 
 Since the canon of Scripture is complete, and 
 sufficient of itself for everything, and more 
 than sufficient, what need is there to join with 
 it the authority of the Church's interpretation? 
 For this reason, — because, owing to the depth 
 of Holy Scripture, all do not accept it in one 
 and the same sense, but one understands its 
 words in one way, another in another; so that 
 it seems to be capable of as many interpreta- 
 tions as there are interpreters. For Novatian 
 expounds it one way, Sabellius another, Dona- 
 tus another, Arius, Eunomius, Macedonius, 
 
 1 " II dit qu'il l'a voulu £crire d'un style facile et commun, sans le 
 vouloir orner et polir; et je voudrois que les ouvrages qu'on a pris le 
 plus de peine a polir dans ce siecle (le 4me) et dans le suivant, ressem- 
 blassent a celui-ci." — TiLUmont, T. xv. p. 144. 
 
 another, Photinus, Apollinaris, Priscillian, an- 
 other, Iovinian, Pelagius, Celestius, another, 
 lastly, Nestorius another. Therefore, it is very 
 necessary, on account of so great intricacies 
 of such various error, that the rule for the 
 right understanding of the prophets and apos- 
 tles should be framed in accordance with 
 the standard of Ecclesiastical and Catholic 
 interpretation. 
 
 [6.] Moreover, in the Catholic Church 
 itself, all possible care must be taken, that we 
 hold that faith which has been believed every- 
 where, always, by all. For that is truly and 
 in the strictest sense "Catholic," which, as 
 the name itself and the reason of the thing 
 declare, comprehends all universally. This 
 rule we shall observe if we follow universality, 
 antiquity, consent. We* shall follow univer- 
 sality if we confess that one faith to be true, 
 which the whole Church throughout the world 
 confesses; antiquity, if we in no wise depart 
 from those interpretations which it is manifest 
 were notoriously held by our holy ancestors 
 and fathers; consent, in like manner, if in 
 antiquity itself we adhere to the consentient 
 definitions and determinations of all, or at the 
 least of almost all priests and doctors. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 What is to be done if one or more dissent from the rest. 
 
 [7.] What then will a Catholic Christian 
 do, if a small portion of the Church have cut 
 itself off from the communion of the universal 
 faith? What, surely, but prefer the sound- 
 ness of the whole body to the unsoundness 
 of a pestilent and corrupt member? What, 
 if some novel contagion seek to infect not 
 merely an insignificant portion of the Church, 
 but the whole? Then it will be his care to 
 cleave to antiquity, which at this day cannot 
 possibly be seduced by any fraud of novelty. 
 
 [8.] But what, if in antiquity itself there be 
 found error on the part of two or three men, 
 or at any rate of a city or even of a province ? 
 Then it will be his care by all means, to 
 prefer the decrees, if such there be, of an 
 ancient General Council to the rashness and 
 ignorance of a few. But what, if some error 
 should spring up on which no such decree is 
 found to bear? Then he must collate and 
 consult and interrogate the opinions of the 
 ancients, of those, namely, who, though living 
 in divers times and places, yet continuing 
 in the communion and faith of the one 
 Catholic Church, stand forth acknowledged 
 and approved authorities : and whatsoever he 
 shall ascertain to have been held, written, 
 taught, not by one or two of these only, but 
 
A COMMONITORY. 
 
 133 
 
 by all, equally, with one consent, openly, 
 frequently, persistently, that he must under- 
 stand that he himself also is to believe with- 
 out any doubt or hesitation. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The evil resulting from the bringing in of Novel Doctrine shown 
 in the instances of the Donatists and Arians. 
 
 [9.] But that we may make what we say 
 more intelligible, we must illustrate it by 
 individual examples, and enlarge upon it 
 somewhat more fully, lest by aiming at too 
 great brevity important matters be hurried 
 over and lost sight of. 
 
 In the time of Donatus, 1 from whom his 
 followers were called Donatists, when great 
 numbers in Africa were rushing headlong into 
 their own mad error, and unmindful of their 
 name, their religion, their profession, were pre- 
 ferring the sacrilegious temerity of one man 
 before the Church of Christ, then they alone 
 throughout Africa were safe within the sacred 
 precincts of the Catholic faith, who, detest- 
 ing the profane schism, continued in com- 
 munion with the universal Church, leaving to 
 posterity an illustrious example, how, and 
 how well in future the soundness of the whole 
 body should be preferred before the madness 
 of one, or at most of a few. 
 
 [10.] So also when the Arian poison had 
 infected not an insignificant portion of the 
 Church but almost the whole world, 2 so that 
 
 1 There were two persons of this name, both intimately connected 
 with the schism, — the earlier one, bishop of Casa Nigra in Numidia, 
 the other the successor of Majorinus, whom in the year 311 the party 
 had elected to be bishop of Carthage in opposition to Cecilian, the 
 Catholic bishop, the ground of the opposition being that the princi- 
 pal timong Cecilian's consecrators lay under the charge of having 
 delivered up the sacred books to the heathen magistrates in the 
 Dioclesian persecution, and of having thereby rendered his ministerial 
 acts invalid. It was from the last-mentioned probably that the sect 
 was called. 
 
 The Donatists affected great strictness of life, and ignoring the 
 plain declarations of Scripture, and notably the prophetic representa- 
 tions contained in our Lord's parables of the Tares, the Draw-net, and 
 others, they held that no church could be a true church which endured 
 the presence of evil men in its society. Accordingly they broke off 
 communion with the rest of the African Church and with all who 
 held communion with it, which was in effect the rest of Christendom, 
 denying the validity of their sacraments, rebaptizing those who came 
 over to them from other Christian bodies, and reordaming their clergy. 
 The sect became so powerful that for some time it formed the 
 stronger party in the church of North Western Africa, its bishops 
 exceeding four hundred in number; but partly checked through the 
 exertions of Augustine in the first years of the fifth century, and of 
 Pope Gregory the Great at the close of the sixth, and partly weakened 
 by divisions among themselves, they dwindled away and became 
 extinct. 
 
 2 The rise of Arianism was nearly contemporaneous with that of 
 Donatism. It originated with Arius, a presbyter of Alexandria, a man 
 of a subtle wit and a fluent tongue. He began by calling in question 
 the teaching of his bishop, when discoursing on a certain occasion 
 on the subject of the Trinity. For himself he denied our blessed 
 Lord's coeternity and consubstantiality with the Father, which was in 
 effect to deny that He is God in any true sense, though he made no 
 scruple of giving Him the name. His doctrine may be best inferred 
 from the anathema directed against it, appended to the original 
 Nicene Creed: "Those who say, that once the Son of God did not 
 exist, and that before He was begotten He did not exist, or who 
 affirm that He is of a different substance or essence (from that of the 
 Father), or that His nature is mutable or alterable, those the Catholic 
 and Apostolic Church anathematises." 
 
 a sort of blindness had fallen upon almost all 
 the bishops 3 of the Latin tongue, circum- 
 vented partly by force partly by fraud, and 
 was preventing them from seeing what was 
 most expedient to be done in the midst of so 
 much confusion, then whoever was a true 
 lover and worshipper of Christ, preferring the 
 ancient belief to the novel misbelief, escaped 
 the pestilent infection. 
 
 [n.] By the peril of which time was 
 abundantly shown how great a calamity the 
 introduction of a novel doctrine causes. For 
 then truly not only interests of small account, 
 but others of the very gravest importance, were 
 subverted. For not only affinities, relation- 
 ships, friendships, families, but moreover, 
 cities, peoples, provinces, nations, at last 
 the whole Roman Empire, were shaken to 
 their foundation and ruined. 
 
 For when this same profane Arian novelty, 
 like a Bellona or a Fury, had first taken 
 captive the Emperor, 4 and had then subjected 
 all the principal persons of the palace to new 
 laws, from that time it never ceased to involve 
 everything in confusion, disturbing all things, 
 public and private, sacred and profane, pay- 
 ing no regard to what was good and true, but, 
 as though holding a position of authority, 
 smiting whomsoever it pleased. Then wives 
 were violated, widows ravished, virgins pro- 
 faned, monasteries demolished, clergymen 
 ejected, the inferior clergy scourged, priests 
 driven into exile, jails, prisons, mines, filled 
 with saints, of whom the greater part, for- 
 bidden to enter into cities, thrust forth from 
 their homes to wander in deserts and caves, 
 among rocks and the haunts of wild beasts, 
 exposed to nakedness, hunger, thirst, were 
 worn out and consumed. Of all of which 
 was there any other cause than that, while 
 
 Arianism spread with great rapidity; and though condemned by 
 the Council of Nicaea in 325, it gained fresh strength on the death 
 of Constantine and the accession of Constantms, so that for many 
 years thenceforward the history of the Church is occupied with noth- 
 ing so much as with accounts of its struggle for supremacy. 
 
 " Arians and Donatists began both about one time, which heresies, 
 according to the different strength of their own sinews, wrought, as 
 the hope of success led them, the one with the choicest wits, the 
 other with the multitude, so far, that after long and troublesome 
 experience, the perfectest view that men could take of both was 
 hardly able to induce any certain determinate resolution, whether 
 error may do more by the curious subtlety of sharp discourse, or else 
 by the mere appearance of zeal and devout affection." — Hooker, 
 Eccles. Pol. v. 62. § 8. 
 
 3 The Catholic bishops, in number more than four hundred, who 
 at Ariminum, in 359, after having subscribed the Creed of Nica;a, 
 were induced, partly by fraud, partly by threats, to repudiate its 
 crucial terms and sign an Arian Formulary. It was in reference to 
 this that St. Jerome wrote, " lngemuit orbis, et Arium seesse miratus 
 est." " The world groaned and marvelled to find itself Arian." He 
 continues, " The vessel of the apostles was in extreme danger. The 
 storm raged, the waves beat upon the ship, all hope was gone. The 
 Lord awakes, rebukes the tempest, the monster (Constantius) dies, 
 tranquillity is restored. The bishops who had been thrust out from 
 their sees return, through the clemency of the new emperor. Then 
 did Egypt receive Athanasius in triumph, then did the Church of 
 Gaul receive Hilary returning from battle, then did Italy put off her 
 mourning garments at the return of Eusebius(of Vercellsj." — Advers. 
 Luciferianos, § 10. 
 
 4 Constantius, the Emperor of the West. 
 
134 
 
 VINCENT OF LERINS. 
 
 human superstitions are being brought in to 
 supplant heavenly doctrine, while well estab- 
 lished antiquity is being subverted by wicked 
 novelty, while the institutions of former ages 
 are being set at naught, while the decrees of 
 our fathers are being rescinded, while the de- 
 terminations of our ancestors are being torn in 
 pieces, the lust of profane and novel curiosity 
 refuses to restrict itself within the most 
 chaste limits of hallowed and uncorrupt 
 antiquity? : 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The Example set us by the Martyrs, whom no force could 
 hinder from defending the Faith of their Predecessors. 
 
 [12.] But it may be, we invent these 
 charges out of hatred to novelty and zeal for 
 antiquity. Whoever is disposed to listen to 
 such an insinuation, let him at least believe 
 the blessed Ambrose, who, deploring the acer- 
 bity of the time, says, in the second book of 
 his work addressed to the Emperor Gratian : - 
 "Enough now, O God Almighty! have we 
 expiated with our own ruin, with our own 
 blood, the slaughter of Confessors, the banish- 
 ment of priests, and the wickedness of such 
 extreme impiety. It is clear, beyond ques- 
 tion, that they who have violated the faith 
 cannot remain in safety." 
 
 And again in the third book of the same 
 work, 3 "Let us observe the precepts of our 
 predecessors, and not transgress with rude 
 rashness the landmarks which we have in- 
 herited from them. That sealed Book of 
 Prophecy no Elders, no Powers, no Angels, 
 no Archangels, dared to open. To Christ 
 alone was reserved the prerogative of explain- 
 ing it. 4 Who of us may dare to unseal the 
 Sacerdotal Book sealed by Confessors, and 
 consecrated already by the martyrdom of 
 numbers, which they who had been compelled 
 by force to unseal afterwards resealed, con- 
 demning the fraud which had been practised 
 
 1 Though Vincentius' account of the Arian persecutions refers to 
 those under the Arian emperors, Constantius and Valens, the former 
 especially, yet he could not but have had in mind the atrocious cruel- 
 ties which were being perpetrated, at the time when he was writing, 
 by the Arian Vandals in Africa. Possidius, in his life of St. Augustine, 
 who lay on his death-bed in Hippo while the fierce Vandal host was 
 encamped round the city (c. xxviii.), gives a detailed account of them, 
 belonging to a date some four years earlier, entirely of a piece with 
 Vincentius' description in the text. Victor, bishop of Vite, himself a 
 sufferer, has left a still ampler relation, De Persecutione Vandalorum. 
 
 2 St. Ambrose. De Fide, 1. 2, c. 15, § 141. See also St. Jerome 
 adv. Luciferianos, § 19. 
 
 3 Ibid. 1. 3, § 128, St. Ambrose speaks of the Gothic war as a 
 judgment upon Valens, both for his Arianism and for his persecution 
 of the Catholics. He had permitted the Goths to cross the Danube, 
 and settle in Thrace and the adjoining parts, with the understanding 
 that they should embrace Christianity in its Arian form. They had 
 now turned against him, and Gratian was on the eve of setting out 
 to carry aid to him. St. Ambrose's book, De Fide, was written to 
 confirm Gratian in the Catholic faith, in view especiallv of the Arian 
 influence to which he might be subjected in his intercourse with 
 Valens. Valens was killed the following year, 378, at the battle of 
 Adrianople. 
 
 4 Rev. v. 1-;. 
 
 upon them ; while they who had not ventured 
 to tamper with it proved themselves Con- 
 fessors and martyrs ? How can we deny the 
 faith of those whose victory we proclaim? " 
 
 [13.] We proclaim it truly, O venerable 
 Ambrose, we proclaim it, and applaud and 
 admire. For who is there so demented, who, 
 though not able to overtake, does not at least 
 earnestly desire to follow those whom no 
 force could deter from defending the faith of 
 their ancestors, no threats, no blandishments, 
 not life, not death, not the palace, not the 
 Imperial Guards, not the Emperor, not the 
 empire itself, not men, not demons ? — whom, 
 I say, as a recompense for their steadfastness 
 in adhering to religious antiquity, the Lord 
 counted worthy of so great a reward, that by 
 their instrumentality He restored churches 
 which had been destroyed, quickened with 
 new life peoples who were spiritually dead, 
 replaced on the heads of priests the crowns 
 which had been torn from them, washed out 
 those abominable, I will not say letters, but 
 blotches ()ion literas, sed lituras) of novel impi- 
 ety, with a fountain of believing tears, which 
 God opened in the hearts of the bishops ? — 
 lastly, when almost the whole world was over- 
 whelmed by a ruthless tempest of unlooked 
 for heresy, recalled it from novel misbelief to 
 the ancient faith, from the madness of novelty 
 to the soundness of antiquity, from the blind- 
 ness of novelty to pristine light? 
 
 [14.] But in this divine virtue, as we may 
 call it, exhibited by these Confessors, we must 
 note especially that the defence which they 
 then undertook in appealing to the Ancient 
 Church, was the defence, not of a part, but of 
 the whole body. For it was not right that 
 men of such eminence should uphold with so 
 huge an effort the vague and conflicting 
 notions of one or two men, or should exert 
 themselves in the defence of some ill-advised 
 combination of some petty province; but 
 adhering to the decrees and definitions of the 
 universal priesthood of Holy Church, the 
 heirs of Apostolic and Catholic truth, they 
 chose rather to deliver up themselves than to 
 betray the faith of universality and antiquity. 
 For which cause they were deemed worthy of 
 so great glory as not only to be accounted 
 Confessors, but rightly and deservedly to be 
 accounted foremost among Confessors. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The example of Pope Stephen in resisting the Iteration of 
 Baptism. 
 
 [15.] Great then is the example of these 
 same blessed men, an example plainly divine, 
 and worthy to be called to mind, and medi- 
 
A COMMONITORY. 
 
 J 35 
 
 tated upon continually by every true Catho- 
 lic, who, like the seven-branched candlestick, 
 shining with the sevenfold light of the Holy 
 Spirit, showed to posterity how thenceforward 
 the audaciousness of profane novelty, in all 
 the several rantings of error, might be crushed 
 by the authority of hallowed antiquity. 
 
 Nor is there anything new in this? For 
 it has always been the case in the Church, 
 that the more a man is under the influ- 
 ence of religion, so much the more prompt 
 is he to oppose innovations. Examples there 
 are without number: but to be brief, we 
 will take one, and that, in preference to 
 others, from the Apostolic See, 1 so that it 
 may be clearer than day to every one with 
 how great energy, with how great zeal, with 
 how great earnestness, the blessed successors 
 of the blessed apostles have constantly de- 
 fended the integrity of the religion which 
 they have once received. 
 
 [16.] Once on a time then, Agrippinus, 2 
 bishop of Carthage, of venerable memory, 
 held the doctrine — and he was the first who 
 held it — that Baptism ought to be repeated, 
 contrary to the divine canon, contrary to the 
 rule of the universal Church, contrary to the 
 customs and institutions of our ancestors. 
 This innovation drew after it such an amount 
 of evil, that it not only gave an example of 
 sacrilege to heretics of all sorts, but proved 
 an occasion of error to certain Catholics 
 even. 
 
 When then all men protested against the 
 novelty, and the priesthood everywhere, each 
 as his zeal prompted him, opposed it, Pope 
 Stephen of blessed memory, Prelate of the 
 Apostolic See, in conjunction indeed with his 
 colleagues but yet himself the foremost, with- 
 stood it, thinking it right, I doubt not, that 
 as he exceeded all others in the authority of 
 his place, so he should also in the devotion 
 of his faith. In fine, in an epistle sent at 
 the time to Africa, he laid down this rule : 
 "Let there be no innovation — nothing but 
 what has been handed down." 3 For that 
 
 1 " The Apostolic see " (Sedes Apostolica) here means Rome 
 of course. But the title was not restricted to Rome. It was com- 
 mon to all sees which could claim an apostle as their Founder. 
 Thus St. Augustine, suggesting a rule for determining what books are 
 to be regarded as Canonical, says, " In Canonicis Scripturis Eccle- 
 siarum Catholicarum quamplurium auctoritatem sequatur, inter quas 
 sane ilia? sint quas Apostolicas Sedes habere et Epistolas accipere 
 meruerunt."_ "Let him follow the authority of those Catholic 
 Churches which have been counted worthy to have Apostolic Sees; 
 i.e., to have been founded by Apostles, and to have been the recipi- 
 ents of Apostolic Epistles." — De Doctr. Christiana, II. § 13. But 
 the title, even in St. Augustine's time, had even a wider meaning. 
 
 ' Anciently every bishop's see was dignified with the title of Sedes 
 Apostolica, which in those days was no peculiar title of the bishop 
 of Rome, but given to all bishops in general, as deriving their 
 origin and counting their succession from the apostles." — Bingham, 
 Antiq. II., c. 2, § 3. 
 
 2 Agrippinus. See note 4, below. 
 
 8 Stephen's letter has not come down to us, happily perhaps for 
 
 holy and prudent man well knew that true 
 piety admits no other rule than that whatso- 
 ever things have been faithfully received 
 from our fathers the same are to be faithfully 
 consigned to our children; and that it is our 
 duty, not ito lead religion whither we would, 
 but rather to follow religion whither it leads; 
 and that it is the part of Christian modesty 
 and gravity not to hand down our own beliefs 
 or observances to those who come after us, 
 but to preserve and keep what we have 
 received from those who went before us. 
 What then was the issue of the whole matter? 
 What but the usual and customary one? 
 Antiquity was retained, novelty was rejected. 
 
 [17.] But it may be, the cause of innovation 
 at that time lacked patronage. On the con- 
 trary, it had in its favor such powerful talent, 
 such copious eloquence, such a number of 
 partisans, so much resemblance to truth, such 
 weighty support in Scripture (only interpreted 
 in a novel and perverse sense), that it seems 
 to me that that whole conspiracy could not 
 possibly have been defeated, unless the sole 
 cause of this extraordinary stir, the very 
 novelty of what was so undertaken, so de- 
 fended, so belauded, had proved wanting to 
 it. In the end, what result, under God, 
 had that same African Council or decree? 4 
 None whatever. The whole affair, as though 
 a dream, a fable, a thing of no possible 
 account, was annulled, cancelled, and trodden 
 underfoot. 
 
 [18.] And O marvellous revolution! The 
 authors of this same doctrine are judged 
 Catholics, the followers heretics; the teachers 
 are absolved, the disciples condemned; the 
 writers of the books will be children of the 
 Kingdom, the defenders of them will have 
 their portion in Hell. For who is so de- 
 mented as to doubt that that blessed light 
 among all holy bishops and martyrs, Cyprian, 
 together with the rest of his colleagues, will 
 reign with Christ; or, who on the other 
 hand so sacrilegious as to deny that the 
 Donatists and those other pests, who boast 
 the authority of that council for their iteration 
 of baptism, will be consigned to eternal fire 
 with the devil? 5 
 
 his credit, judging by the terms in which Cyprian speaks of it in the 
 letter in which he quotes the passage in the text. — Ad Pompeian, 
 Ep. 74. 
 
 4 The Council held under the presidency of Cyprian in 256. Its 
 acts are contained in Cyprian's works, Ed. Fell. pp. 15S, etc. An 
 earlier council had been held in the same city in the beginning of the 
 century under Agrippinus. Both had affirmed the necessity of 
 rebaptizing heretics, or, as they would rather have said, of baptizing 
 them. The controversy was set at rest by a decision of the council 
 of Aries, in 314, which ordered, in its Eighth Canon, that if the bap- 
 tism had been administered in the name of the Trinity, converts 
 should be admitted simply by the imposition of hands that they might 
 receive the Holy Ghost. 
 
 s See Hooker's reference to this passage. — Eccles. Pol. v, 62, § 9. 
 
136 
 
 VINCENT OF LERINS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 How Heretics, craftily cite obscure passages in ancient 
 writers in support of their own novelties. 
 
 [19.] This condemnation, indeed, 1 seems 
 to have been providentially promulgated as 
 though with a special view to the fraud of those 
 who, contriving to dress up a heresy under a 
 name other than its own, get hold often of the 
 works of some ancient writer, not very clearly 
 expressed, which, owing to the very obscurity 
 of their own doctrine, have the appearance of 
 agreeing with it, so that they get the credit 
 of being neither the first nor the only persons 
 who have held it. This wickedness of theirs, 
 in my judgment, is doubly hateful: first, 
 because they are not afraid to invite others to 
 drink of the poison of heresy; and secondly, 
 because with profane breath, as though fanning 
 smouldering embers into flame, they blow upon 
 the memory of each holy man, and spread an 
 evil report of what ought to be buried in silence 
 by bringing it again under notice, thus tread- 
 ing in the footsteps of their father Ham, who 
 not only forebore to cover the nakedness 
 of the venerable Noah, but told it to the 
 others that they might laugh at it, offend- 
 jng thereby so grievously against the duty of 
 filial piety, that even his descendants were 
 involved with him in the curse which he drew 
 down, widely differing from those blessed 
 brothers of his, who would neither pollute 
 their own eyes by looking upon the nakedness 
 of their revered father, nor would suffer others 
 to do so, but went backwards, as the Scrip- 
 ture says, and covered him, that is, they neither 
 approved nor betrayed the fault of the holy 
 man, for which cause they were rewarded 
 with a benediction on themselves and their 
 posterity. 2 
 
 [20.] But to return to the matter in hand: 
 It behoves us then to have a great dread of 
 the crime of perverting the faith and adulter- 
 ating religion, a crime from which we are 
 deterred not only by the Church's discipline, 
 but also by the censure of apostolical author- 
 ity. For every one knows how gravely, how 
 severely, how vehemently, the blessed apostle 
 Paul inveighs against certain, who, with mar- 
 vellous levity, had " been so soon removed from 
 him who had called them to the grace of Christ 
 to another Gospel, which was not another;" 3 
 "who had heaped to themselves teachers 
 after their own lusts, turning away their ears 
 from the truth, and being turned aside unto 
 fables ; " 4 " having damnation because they 
 
 1 Tlie condemnation of St. Cyprian's practice of rebaptism. 
 
 2 Gen. ix. 22. 
 
 3 Gal. 1. 6. 
 
 had cast off their first faith ; " 5 who had 
 been deceived by those of whom the same 
 apostle writes to the Roman Christians, 
 "Now, I beseech you, brethren, mark them 
 which cause divisions and offences, contrary 
 to the doctrine which ye have learned, and 
 avoid them. For they that are such serve 
 not the Lord Christ, but their own belly, and 
 by good words and fair speeches deceive the 
 hearts of the simple;" 6 "who enter into 
 houses, and lead captive silly women laden 
 with sins, led away with diverse lusts, ever 
 learning and never able to come to the know- 
 ledge of the truth;" 7 "vain talkers and 
 deceivers, who subvert whole houses, teaching 
 things which they ought not, for filthy lucre's 
 sake ; " 8 " men of corrupt minds, reprobate 
 concerning the faith ; " e " proud knowing 
 nothing, but doting about questions and strifes 
 of words, destitute of the truth, supposing 
 that godliness is gain," 10 "withal learning to 
 be idle, wandering about from house to house, 
 and not only idle, but tattlers also and busy- 
 bodies, speaking things which they ought 
 not," u "who having put away a good con- 
 science have made shipwreck concerning the 
 faith;" 12 "whose profane and vain babblings 
 increase unto more ungodliness, and their 
 word doth eat as doth a cancer." 13 Well, 
 also, is it written of them: "But they shall 
 proceed no further: for their folly shall be 
 manifest unto all men, as their's also was." 14 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Exposition of St. Paul's Words, Gal. i. 8. 
 
 [21.] When therefore certain of this sort 
 wandering about provinces and cities, and 
 carrying with them their venal errors, had 
 found their way to Galatia, and when the 
 Galatians, on hearing them, nauseating the 
 truth, and vomiting up the manna of Apos- 
 tolic and Catholic doctrine, were delighted 
 with the garbage of heretical novelty, the 
 apostle putting in exercise the authority of 
 his office, delivered his sentence with the 
 utmost severity, "Though we," he says, "or 
 an angel from heaven, preach any other Gospel 
 unto you than that which we have preached 
 unto you, let him be accursed." 15 
 
 [22.] Why does he say "Though we"? 
 why not rather " though I " ? He means, 
 "though Peter, though Andrew, though John, 
 
 4 2 Tim. iv. 3, 4. 
 
 5 i Tim. v. 12. 
 
 6 Rom. xvi. 17, iS 
 
 7 2 Tim. iii. 6. 
 
 8 Tit. i. 10. 
 
 2 Tim. iii. S. 
 
 10 1 Tim. vi. 4. 
 
 11 1 Tim. v. 13. 
 
 12 i Tim. i. 19. 
 
 13 2 Tim. ii. 16, 17. 
 
 14 2 Tim. iii. 9. 
 
 15 Gal. i. 8. 
 
A COMMONITORY. 
 
 137 
 
 in a word, though the whole company of 
 apostles, preach unto you other than we have 
 preached unto you, let him be accursed." 
 Tremendous severity! He spares neither 
 himself nor his fellow apostles, so he may 
 preserve unaltered the faith which was at first 
 delivered. Nay, this is not all. He goes on: 
 " Even though an angel from heaven preach 
 unto you any other Gospel than that which 
 we have preached unto you, let him be 
 accursed." It was not enough for the preser- 
 vation of the faith once delivered to have 
 referred to man; he must needs comprehend 
 angels also. "Though we," he says, "or an 
 angel from heaven." Not that the holy 
 angels of heaven are now capable of sinning. 
 But what he means is : Even if that were to 
 happen which cannot happen, — if any one, be 
 he who he may, attempt to alter the faith 
 once for all delivered, let him be accursed. 
 
 [23.] But it may be, he spoke thus in the 
 first instance inconsiderately, giving vent to 
 human impetuosity rather than expressing 
 himself under divine guidance. Far from 
 it. He follows up what he had said, and 
 urges it with intense reiterated earnestness, 
 "As we said before, so say I now again, If 
 any man preach any other Gospel to you 
 than that ye have received, let him be 
 accursed." He does not say, "If any man 
 deliver to you another message than that you 
 have received, let him be blessed, praised, 
 welcomed," — no; but "let him be accursed," 
 \anathema\ i.e., separated, segregated, ex- 
 cluded, lest the dire contagion of a single 
 sheep contaminate the guiltless flock of Christ 
 by his poisonous intermixture with them. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 His warning to the Galatians a warning to all. 
 
 [24.] But, possibly, this warning was 
 intended for the Galatians only. Be it so; 
 then those other exhortations which follow in 
 the same Epistle were intended for the Gala- 
 tians only, such as, "If we live in the Spirit, 
 let us also walk in the Spirit; let us not 
 be desirous of vain glory, provoking one 
 another, envying one another," etc. ; 1 which 
 alternative if it be absurd, and the injunctions 
 were meant equally for all, then it follows, 
 that as these injunctions which relate to 
 morals, so those warnings which relate to faith 
 are meant equally for all; and just as it is 
 unlawful for all to provoke one another, or to 
 envy one another, so, likewise, it is unlawful 
 
 for all to receive any other Gospel than that 
 which the Catholic Church preaches every- 
 where. 
 
 [25.] Or perhaps the anathema pronounced 
 on any one who should preach another Gospel 
 than that which had been preached was 
 meant for those times, not for the present. 
 Then, also, the exhortation, "Walk in the 
 Spirit and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the 
 flesh," 2 was meant for those times, not for 
 the present. But if it be both impious and 
 pernicious to believe this, then it follows 
 necessarily, that as these injunctions are to be 
 observed by all ages, so those warnings also 
 which forbid alteration of the faith are warn- 
 ings intended for all ages. To preach any doc- 
 trine therefore to Catholic Christians other 
 than what they have received never was lawful, 
 never is lawful, never will be lawful : and to 
 anathematize those who preach anything other 
 than what has once been received, always was 
 a duty, always is a duty, always will be a duty. 
 
 [26.] Which being the case, is there any 
 one either so audacious as to preach any 
 other doctrine than that which the Church 
 preaches, or so inconstant as to receive any 
 other doctrine than that which he has received 
 from the Church? That elect vessel, that 
 teacher of the Gentiles, that trumpet of the 
 apostles, that preacher whose commission 
 was to the whole earth, that man who was 
 caught up to heaven, 3 cries and cries again in 
 his Epistles to all, always, in all places, "If 
 any man preach any new doctrine, let him be 
 accursed." On the other hand, an ephemeral, 
 moribund set of frogs, fleas, and flies, such as 
 the Pelagians, call out in opposition, and 
 that to Catholics, "Take our word, follow our 
 lead, accept our exposition, condemn what 
 you used to hold, hold what you used to 
 condemn, cast aside the ancient faith, the 
 institutes of your fathers, the trusts left for 
 you by your ancestors and receive instead, 
 — what? I tremble to utter it: for it is so full 
 of arrogance and self-conceit, that it seems 
 to me that not only to affirm it, but even to 
 refute it, cannot be done without guilt in 
 some sort. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Why Eminent Men are permitted by God to become Authors 
 of Novelties in the Church. 
 
 [27.] But some one will ask, How is it 
 then, that certain excellent persons, and of 
 position in the Church, are often permitted 
 by God to preach novel doctrines to 
 Catholics? A proper question, certainly, 
 
 1 Gal. v. 25. 
 
 ' Gal. v. 16. 
 
 3 2 Cor. xii. 2. 
 
138 
 
 VINCENT OF LERINS. 
 
 and one which ought to be very carefully 
 and fully dealt with, but answered at the 
 same time, not in reliance upon one's own 
 ability, but by the authority of the divine 
 Law, and by appeal to the Church's deter- 
 mination. 
 
 Let us listen, then, to Holy Moses, and let 
 him teach us why learned men, and such as 
 because of their knowledge are even called 
 Prophets by the apostle, are sometimes per- 
 mitted to put forth novel doctrines, which the 
 Old Testament is wont, by way of allegory, 
 to call " strange scods," forasmuch as heretics 
 pay the same sort of reverence to their notions 
 that the Gentiles do to their gods. 
 
 [28.] Blessed Moses, then, writes thus in 
 Deuteronomy : * "If there arise among you a 
 prophet or a dreamer of dreams," that is, one 
 holding office as a Doctor in the Church, who 
 is believed by his disciples or auditors to 
 teach by revelation: well, — what follows? 
 "and giveth thee a sign or a wonder, and the 
 sign or the wonder come to pass whereof he 
 spake," — he is pointing to some eminent 
 doctor, whose learning is such that his fol- 
 lowers believe him not only to know things 
 human, but, moreover, to foreknow things 
 superhuman, such as, their disciples commonly 
 boast, were Valentinus, Donatus, Photinus, 
 Apollinaris, and the rest of that sort! What 
 next? "And shall say to thee, Let us go after 
 other gods, whom thou knowest not, and serve 
 them. " What are those other gods but strange 
 errors which thou knowest not, that is, new 
 and such as were never heard of before ? " And 
 let us serve them;" that is, "Let us believe 
 them, follow them." What last? "Thoushalt 
 not hearken to the words of that prophet or 
 dreamer of dreams." And why, I pray thee, 
 does not God forbid to be taught what God 
 forbids to be heard? "For the Lord, your 
 God, trieth you, to know whether you love Him 
 with all your heart and with all your soul." 
 The reason is clearer than day why Divine 
 Providence sometimes permits certain doctors 
 of the Churches to preach new doctrines — 
 "That the Lord your God may try you," he 
 says. And assuredly it is a great trial when 
 one whom thou believest to be a prophet, a 
 disciple of prophets, a doctor and defender of 
 the truth, whom thou hast folded to thy breast 
 with the utmost veneration and love, when 
 such a one of a sudden secretly and furtively 
 brings in noxious errrors, which thou canst 
 neither quickly detect, being held by the 
 prestige of former authority, nor lightly think 
 it right to condemn, being prevented by affec- 
 tion for thine old master. 
 
 1 Deut. xiii. 1, etc. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Examples from Church History, confirming the words of 
 Moses, — Nestorius, Photinus, Apollinaris. 
 
 [29.] Here, perhaps, some one will require 
 us to illustrate the words of holy Moses by 
 examples from Church History. The demand 
 is a fair one, nor shall it wait long for satis- 
 faction. 
 
 For to take first a very recent and very 
 plain case: what sort of trial, think we, was 
 that which the Church had experience of the 
 other day, when that unhappy Nestorius, 2 all 
 at once metamorphosed from a sheep into a 
 wolf, began to make havoc of the flock of 
 Christ, while as yet a large proportion of 
 those whom he was devouring believed him 
 to be a sheep, and consequently were the 
 more exposed to his attacks ? For who would 
 readily suppose him to be in error, who was 
 known to have been elected by the high choice 
 of the Emperor, and to be held in the greatest 
 esteem by the priesthood? who would readily 
 suppose him to be in error, who, greatly 
 beloved by the holy brethren, and in high 
 favor with the populace, expounded the Scrip- 
 tures in public daily, and confuted the 
 pestilent errors both of Jews and Heathens? 
 Who could choose but believe that his teach- 
 ing was Orthodox, his preaching Orthodox, 
 his belief Orthodox, who, that he might 
 open the way to one heresy of his own, was 
 zealously inveighing against the blasphemies 
 of all heresies? But this was the very thing 
 which Moses says: "The Lord your God doth 
 try you that He may know whether you love 
 Him or not." 
 
 [30.] Leaving Nestorius, in whom there 
 was always more that men admired than they 
 were profited by, more of show than of reality, 
 whom natural ability, rather than divine 
 grace, magnified for a time in the opinion of 
 the common people, let us pass on to speak 
 of those who,- being persons of great attain- 
 ments and of much industry, proved no small 
 trial to Catholics. Such, for instance, was 
 Photinus, in Pannonia, 3 who, in the memory 
 
 2 Nestorius was a native of Germanicia, a town in the patriarchate 
 of Antioch, of which Church he became a Presbyter. On the See of 
 Constantinople becoming vacant by the death of Sisinnius, the 
 Emperor Theodosius sent for him and caused him to be consecrated 
 Archbishop. He was at first extremely popular, and so eloquent that 
 people said of him (what was much to be said of a successor of 
 Chrysostom), that there had never before been such a bishop. He 
 was condemned by the Council of Ephesus, in 431. The emperor, 
 after ordering him to return to the monastery to which he formally 
 belonged, eventually banished him to the great Oasis, whence he 
 was harried from place to place till death put an end to his suffer- 
 ings, in 440. Evagrius, 1. 7. 
 
 3 Photinus, bishop of Sirmium in Pannonia, was a native of 
 Galatia, and a disciple of Marcellus of Ancyra. Bishop Pearson (on 
 the Creed, Art. ir) has an elaborate note, in which he collects 
 together many notices of him left by the ancients. These agree with 
 Vincentius in representing him as a man of extraordinary abilitv and 
 of consummate eloquence. His heresy consisted in the denial of 
 
A COMMONITORY. 
 
 139 
 
 of our fathers, is said to have been a trial 
 to the Church of Sirmium, where, when he 
 had been raised to the priesthood with uni- 
 versal approbation, and had discharged the 
 office for some time as a Catholic, all of a 
 sudden, like that evil prophet or dreamer of 
 dreams whom Moses refers to, he began to 
 persuade the people whom God had intrusted 
 to his charge, to follow "strange gods," that 
 is, strange errors, which before they knew not. 
 But there was nothing unusual in this: the 
 mischief of the matter was, that for the perpe- 
 tration of so great wickedness he availed 
 himself of no ordinary helps. For he 
 was of great natural ability and of powerful 
 eloquence, and had a wealth of learning, 
 disputing and writing copiously and forcibly 
 in both languages, as his books which remain, 
 composed partly in Greek, partly in Latin, 
 testify. But happily the sheep of Christ 
 committed to him, vigilant and wary for the 
 Catholic faith, quickly turned their eyes to 
 the premonitory words of Moses, and, though 
 admiring the eloquence of their prophet and 
 pastor, were not blind to the trial. For from 
 thenceforward they began to flee from him as 
 a wolf, whom formerly they had followed as 
 the ram of the flock. 
 
 [31.] Nor is it only in the instance of 
 Photinus that we learn the danger of this 
 trial to the Church, and are admonished 
 withal of the need of double diligence in 
 guarding the faith. Apollinaris 1 holds out a 
 like warning. For he gave rise to great 
 burning questions and sore peplexities among 
 his disciples, the Church's authority drawing 
 them one way, their Master's influence the 
 opposite; so that, wavering and tossed hither 
 and thither between the two, they were at a 
 loss what course to take. 
 
 But perhaps he was a person of no weight 
 of character. On the contrary, he was so 
 eminent and so highly esteemed that his word 
 would only too readily be taken on whatsoever 
 subject. For what could exceed his acute- 
 
 our blessed Lord's divine nature, whom he regarded as man, and 
 nothing more, i//i>d{ avd/jvyirns, and as having had no existence 
 before his birth of the Virgin. He was condemned in several synods, 
 the fifth of which, a Council of the Western bishops, held at Sir- 
 mium, in 350, deposed him. But in spite of the deposition, so great 
 was his popularity, that he could not even yet be removed. The 
 following year however he was by another council, held at the same 
 place, again condemned, and sent into banishment. He died in 
 Galatia, in 377. See Cave, Hist. Lit., who refers with praise to a 
 learned dissertation on Photinus by Larroque. 
 
 1 Apollinaris the younger (a contemporary of Photinus), bishop 
 of Laodicea in Syria, was one of the most distinguished men of the 
 age in which he lived. Epiphanius {Hcsr. lxxvii. 2), referring to his 
 fall into heresy, says that when it first began to be spoken of, people 
 would hardly credit it, so great was the estimation in which he was 
 held. His heresy, which consisted in the denial of the verity of our 
 Lord's human nature, the Divine Word supplying the place of the 
 rational soul, and in the assertion that his flesh was not derived from 
 the Virgin, but was brought down from heaven, was condemned by 
 the Council of Constantinople, in 381 (Canon I.). It was in reference 
 to the latter form of it that the clause "of the Holy Ghost and the 
 Virgin Mary " was inserted in the Nicene Creed. 
 
 ness, his adroitness, his learning? How 
 many heresies did he, in many volumes, anni- 
 hilate! How many errors, hostile to the 
 faith, did he confute! A proof of which is 
 that most noble and vast work, of not less 
 than thirty books, in which, with a great 
 mass of arguments, he repelled the insane 
 calumnies of Porphyry. 2 It would take a 
 long time to enumerate all his works, which 
 assuredly would have placed him on a level 
 with the very chief of the Church's builders, 
 if that profane lust of heretical curiosity had 
 not led him to devise I know not what novelty 
 which as though through the contagion of a sort 
 of leprosy both defiled all his labours, and 
 caused his teachings to be pronounced the 
 Church's trial instead of the Church's edifi- 
 cation. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A fuller account of the Errors of Photinus, Apollinaris 
 and Nestorius. 
 
 [32.] Here, possibly, I may be asked for 
 some account of the above mentioned 
 heresies; those, namely, of Nestorius, Apol- 
 linaris, and Photinus. This, indeed, does 
 not belong to the matter in hand: for our ob- 
 ject is not to enlarge upon the errors of indi- 
 viduals, but to produce instances of a few, in 
 whom the applicability of Moses' words may 
 be evidently and clearly seen; that is to 
 say, that if at any time some Master in 
 the Church, himself also a prophet in inter- 
 preting the mysteries of the prophets, should 
 attempt to introduce some novel doctrine 
 into the Church of God, Divine Providence 
 permits this to happen in order to try us. It 
 will be useful, therefore, by way of digres- 
 sion, to give a brief account of the opin- 
 ions of the above-named heretics, Photinus, 
 Apollinaris, Nestorius. 
 
 [33.] The heresy of Photinus, then, is as 
 follows: He says that God is singular and 
 sole, and is to be regarded as the Jews 
 regarded Him. He denies the completeness 
 of the Trinity, and does not believe that 
 there is any Person of God the Word, or any 
 Person of the Holy Ghost. Christ he affirms 
 to be a mere man, whose original was from 
 Mary. Hence he insists with the utmost 
 obstinacy that we are to render worship only 
 to the Person of God the Father, and that we 
 are to honour Christ as man only. This is the 
 doctrine of Photinus. 
 
 [34.] Apollinaris, affecting to agree with the 
 Church as to the unity of the Trinity, though 
 
 2 This work, of which St. Jerome speaks in high terms {de Viris 
 Illiistr., c. 104), has not come down to us, nor indeed have his other 
 writings, except in fragments. 
 
140 
 
 VINCENT OF LERINS. 
 
 not this even with entire soundness of belief, 1 
 as to the Incarnation of the Lord, blas- 
 phemes openly. For he says that the flesh 
 of our Saviour was either altogether devoid of 
 a human soul, or, at all events, was devoid 
 of a rational soul. Moreover, he says that 
 this same flesh of the Lord was not received 
 from the flesh of the holy Virgin Mary, but 
 came down from heaven into the Virgin ; and, 
 ever wavering and undecided, he preaches 
 one while that it was co-eternal with God the 
 Word, another that it was made of the divine 
 nature of the Word. For, denying that there 
 are two substances in Christ, one divine, 
 the other human, one from the Father, the 
 other from his mother, he holds that the very 
 nature of the Word was divided, as though 
 one part of it remained in God, the other was 
 converted into flesh : so that whereas the truth 
 says that of two substances there is one 
 Christ, he affirms, contrary to the truth, that 
 of the one divinity of Christ there are become 
 two substances. This, then, is the doctrine 
 of Apollinaris. 
 
 [35.] Nestorius, whose disease is of an 
 opposite kind, while pretending that he holds 
 two distinct substances in Christ, brings in of 
 a sudden two Persons, and with unheard of 
 wickedness would have two sons of God, two 
 Christs, — one, God, the other, man, one, be- 
 gotten of his Father, the other, born of his 
 mother. For which reason he maintains that 
 Saint Mary ought to be called, not Theotocos 
 (the mother of God), but Christotocos (the 
 mother of Christ), seeing that she gave birth 
 not to the Christ who is God, but to the 
 Christ who is man. But if any one supposes 
 that in his writings he speaks of one Christ, 
 and preaches one Person of Christ, let him 
 not lightly credit it. For either this is a 
 crafty device, that by means of good he may 
 the more easily persuade evil, according to 
 that of the apostle, "That which is good 
 was made death to me," 2 — either, I say, he 
 craftily affects in some places in his writ- 
 ings to believe one Christ and one Person of 
 Christ, or else he says that after the Virgin 
 had brought forth, the two Persons were 
 united into one Christ, though at the time of 
 her conception or parturition, and for some 
 short time afterwards, there were two Christs ; 
 so that forsooth, though Christ was born at 
 first an ordinary man and nothing more, and 
 not as yet associated in unity of Person with 
 the Word of God, yet afterwards the Person 
 of the Word assuming descended upon Him; 
 and though now the Person assumed remains 
 
 1 " Et hoc ipsum non plena fidei sanitate." — The Cambridge 
 Ed., 16S7, with Baluzius's notes appended, reads, " et hoc ipsum plena 
 fidei sanctitate." 
 
 2 Rom. vii. 13. 
 
 in the glory of God, yet once there would 
 seem to have been no difference between 
 Him and all other men. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The Catholic Doctrine of the Trinity and the Incarnation 
 explained. 
 
 [36.] In these ways then do these rabid 
 dogs, Nestorius, Apollinaris, and Photinus, 
 bark against the Catholic faith: Photinus, 
 by denying the Trinity; Apollinaris, by teach- 
 ing that the nature of the Word is mutable, and 
 refusing to acknowledge that there are two 
 substances in Christ, denying moreover either 
 that Christ had a soul at all, or, at all events, 
 that he had a rational soul, and asserting that 
 the Word of God supplied the place of the 
 rational soul; Nestorius, by affirming that there 
 were always or at any rate that once there 
 were two Christs. But the Catholic Church, 
 holding the right faith both concerning God 
 and concerning our Saviour, is guilty of blas- 
 phemy neither in the mystery of the Trinity, 
 nor in that of the Incarnation of Christ. For 
 she worships both one Godhead in the plenitude 
 of the Trinity, and the equality of the Trinity 
 in one and the same majesty, and she confesses 
 one Christ Jesus, not two ; the same both God 
 and man, the one as truly as the other. 8 
 One Person indeed she believes in Him, but 
 two substances; two substances but one 
 Person: Two substances, because the Word 
 of God is not mutable, so as to be converti- 
 ble into flesh ; one Person, lest by acknow- 
 ledging two sons she should seem to worship 
 not a Trinity, but a Quaternity 
 
 [37.] But it will be well to unfold this same 
 doctrine more distinctly and explicitly again 
 and again. 
 
 In God there is one substance, but three 
 Persons; in Christ two substances, but one 
 Person. In the Trinity, another and another 
 Person, not another and another substance 
 (distinct Persons, not distinct substances) ; 4 
 in the Saviour another and another substance, 
 not another and another Person, (distinct 
 substances, not distinct Persons. How in 
 the Trinity another and another Person 
 (distinct Persons) not another and another 
 substance (distinct substances) ? 5 Because 
 there is one Person of the Father, another 
 
 3 TJnum Christum Jesum non duos, eundemque Deum pariter 
 atque Hominem confitetur. Compare the Athanasian Creed, "Est 
 ergo fides recta et credamus et confiteamur, quia Dominus Noster 
 Jesus Christus. Dei Filius, Deus pariter et Homo est." 
 
 * In Trinitate alius atque alius, non aliud atque aliud. In Salvatore 
 aliud atque aliud, non alius atque alius. 
 
 6 Aliud atque aliud, non alius atque alius. 
 
A COMMONITORY. 
 
 141 
 
 of the Son, another of the Holy Ghost; 1 
 but yet there is not another and another 
 nature (distinct natures) but one and the 
 same nature. How in the Saviour another 
 and another substance, not another and an- 
 other Person (two distinct substances, not 
 two distinct Persons) ? Because there is one 
 substance of the Godhead, another of the 
 manhood. But yet the Godhead and the 
 manhood are not another and another Person 
 (two distinct Persons), but one and the same 
 Christ, one and the same Son of God, and 
 one and the same Person of one and the 
 same Christ and Son of God, in like manner 
 as in man the flesh is one thing and the soul 
 another, but one and the same man, both soul 
 and flesh. In Peter and Paul the soul is 
 one thing, the flesh another; yet there are not 
 two Peters, — one soul, the other flesh, or two 
 Pauls, one soul, the other flesh, — but one and 
 the same Peter, and one and the same Paul, con- 
 sisting each of two diverse natures, soul and 
 body. Thus, then, in one and the same Christ 
 there are two substances, one divine, the 
 other human ; one of (ex) God the Father, the 
 other of (ex) the Virgin Mother; one co- 
 eternal with and co-equal with the Father, the 
 other temporal and inferior to the Father; 
 one consubstantial with his Father, the other 
 consubstantial with his Mother, but one and 
 the same Christ in both substances. There 
 is not, therefore, one Christ God, the other 
 man, not one uncreated, the other created; 
 not one impassible, the other passible ; not 
 one equal to the Father, the other inferior to 
 the Father; not one of his Father (ex), the 
 other of his Mother (ex), but one and the same 
 Christ, God and man, the same uncreated and 
 created, the same unchangeable and incapable 
 of suffering, the same acquainted by experi- 
 ence with both change and suffering, the same 
 equal to the Father and inferior to the Father, 
 the same begotten of the Father before time, 
 ("before the world"), the same born of his 
 mother in time ("in the world"), 2 perfect 
 God, perfect Man. In God supreme divinity, 
 in man perfect humanity. Perfect humanity, 
 I say, forasmuch as it hath both soul and 
 flesh; the flesh, very flesh; our flesh, his 
 mother's flesh; the soul, intellectual, endowed 
 with mind and reason. There is then in 
 Christ the Word, the soul, the flesh; but the 
 whole is one Christ, one Son of God, and 
 
 1 Quia scilicet alia est Persona Patris, alia Filii, alia Spiritus Sancti 
 sed tamen Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti non alia et alia sed una 
 cadunque natura. So the Athanasian Creed, " Alia est enim Persona 
 Patris, alia Filii, alia Spiritus Sancti, sed Patris et Filii et Spiritus 
 Sancti una est Divinitas, etc." The coincidence between the whole 
 of this context and the Athanasian Creed is very observable, though 
 the agreement is not always exact to the very letter. 
 
 2 Idem ex Patre ante saecula genitus, Idem in saeculo ex matre 
 generatus. Compare the Athanasian Creed, " Deus est ex substantia 
 Patris ante saecula genitus; Homo ex substantia Matris in sseculo 
 natus." See Apper.dix I. 
 
 one our Saviour and Redeemer: One, not by I 
 know not what corruptible confusion of God- 
 head and manhood, but by a certain entire and 
 singular unity of Person. For the conjunc- 
 tion hath not converted and changed the one 
 nature into the other, (which is the character- 
 istic error of the Arians), but rather hath in 
 such wise compacted both into one, that while 
 there always remains in Christ the singularity 
 of one and the self-same Person, there abides 
 eternally withal the characteristic property of 
 each nature; whence it follows, that neither 
 doth God (i.e., the divine nature) ever begin 
 to be body, nor doth the body ever cease to be 
 body. The which may be illustrated in human 
 nature : for not only in the present life, but 
 in the future also, each individual man will 
 consist of soul and body; nor will his body 
 ever be converted into soul, or his soul into 
 body; but while each individual man will 
 live for ever, the distinction between the two 
 substances will continue in each individual 
 man for ever. So likewise in Christ each 
 substance will for ever retain its own char- 
 acteristic property, yet without prejudice to 
 the unity of Person. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Jesus Christ Man in Truth, not in Semblance. 
 
 [38.] But when we use the word "Person," 
 and say that God became man by means of a 
 Person, there is reason to fear that our mean- 
 ing may be taken to be, that God the Word 
 assumed our nature merely in imitation, and 
 peformed the actions of man, being man not 
 in reality, but only in semblance, just as in a 
 theatre, one man within a brief space repre- 
 sents several persons, not one of whom him- 
 self is. For when one undertakes to sustain 
 the part of another, he performs the offices, or 
 does the acts, of the person whose part he sus- 
 tains, but he is not himself that person. So, 
 to take an illustration from secular life and 
 one in high favour with the Manichees, when 
 a tragedian represents a priest or a king, he is 
 not really a priest or a king. For, as soon as 
 the play is over, the person or character whom 
 he represented ceases to be. God forbid that 
 we should have anything to do with such nefa- 
 rious and wicked mockery. Be it the infatu- 
 ation of the Manichees, those preachers of 
 hallucination, who say that the Son of God, 
 God, was not a human person really and truly, 
 but that He counterfeited the person of a man 
 in feigned conversation and manner of life. 
 
 [39.] But the Catholic Faith teaches that 
 the Word of God became man in such wise, 
 that He took upon Him our nature, not feign- 
 
142 
 
 VINCENT OF LERINS. 
 
 edly and in semblance, but in reality and 
 truth, and performed human actions, not ^as 
 though He were imitating the actions of 
 another, but as performing His own, and as 
 being in reality the person whose part He 
 sustained. Just as we ourselves also, when 
 we speak, reason, live, subsist, do not imitate 
 men, but are men. Peter and John, for in- 
 stance, were men, not by imitation, but by 
 being men in reality. Paul did not counter- 
 feit an apostle, or feign himself to be Paul, 
 but was an apostle, was Paul. So, also, that 
 which God the Word did, in His condescen- 
 sion, in assuming and having flesh, in speak- 
 ing, acting, and suffering, through the instru- 
 mentality of flesh, yet without any marring 
 of His own divine nature, came in one word 
 to this: — He did not imitate or feign Himself 
 to be perfect man, but He shewed Himself to 
 be very man in reality and truth. There- 
 fore, as the soul united to the flesh, but yet 
 not changed into flesh, does not imitate man, 
 but is man, and man not feignedly but sub- 
 stantially, so also God the Word, without any 
 conversion of Himself, in uniting Himself to 
 man, became man, not by confusion, not by 
 imitation, but by actually being and subsist- 
 ing. Away then, once and for all, with the 
 notion of His Person as of an assumed ficti- 
 tious character, where always what is is one 
 thing, what is counterfeited another, where 
 the man who acts never is the man whose part 
 he acts. God forbid that we should believe 
 God the Word to have taken upon Himself 
 the person of a man in this illusory way. 
 Rather let us acknowledge that while His own 
 unchangeable substance remained, and while 
 He took upon Himself the nature of perfect 
 man, Himself actually was flesh, Himself actu- 
 ally was man, Himself actually was personally 
 man; not feignedly, but in truth, not in imita- 
 tion, but in substance; not, finally, so as to 
 cease to be when the performance was over, 
 but so as to be, and continue to be substantially 
 and permanently. 1 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The Union of the Divine with the Human Nature took place in 
 the very Conception of the Virgin. The appellation "The 
 Mother of God. 
 
 [40.] This unity of Person, then, in Christ 
 is not effected after His birth of the Virgin, 
 t was compacted and perfected in her very 
 
 1 The word " Person " is used in this and the preceding section 
 in a way which might seem at variance with Catholic truth. Christ 
 did not assume the Person of a man ; but, being God, He united in 
 his one divine Person, the Godhead and the Manhood. This Vin- 
 centius himself teaches most explicitly. But his object here is to 
 show that our blessed Lord, while conversant among us as man, and 
 being to all appearance man, did not personate man, but was man in 
 deed and in truth. The misconception against which Vincentius 
 seeks to guard arises from the ambiguity of the Latin Persona, an 
 
 womb. For we must take most especial heed 
 that we confess Christ not only one, but 
 always one. For it were intolerable blas- 
 phemy, if while thou dost confess Him one 
 now, thou shouldst maintain that once He was 
 not one, but two; one forsooth since His bap- 
 tism, but two at His birth. Which monstrous 
 sacrilege we shall assuredly in no wise avoid 
 unless we acknowledge the manhood united to 
 the Godhead (but by unity of Person), not from 
 the ascension, or the resurrection, or the bap- 
 tism, but even in His mother, even in the 
 womb, even in the Virgin's very conception. 2 
 In consequence of which unity of Person, both 
 those attributes which are proper to God are 
 ascribed to man, and those which are proper 
 to the flesh to God, indifferently and promis- 
 cuously. 3 For hence it is written by divine 
 guidance, on the one hand, that the Son of 
 man came down from heaven ; 4 and on the 
 other, that the Lord of glory was crucified on 
 earth. 5 Hence it is also that since the 
 Lord's flesh was made, since the Lord's 
 flesh was created, the very Word of God is 
 said to have been made, the very omniscient 
 Wisdom of God to have been created, just as 
 prophetically His hands and His feet are 
 described as having been pierced. 6 From this 
 unity of Person it follows, by reason of a like 
 mystery, that, since the flesh of the Word was 
 born of an undefiled mother, God the Word 
 Himself is most Catholicly believed, most 
 impiously denied, to have been born of the 
 Virgin; which being the case, God forbid that 
 any one should seek to defraud Holy Mary 
 of her prerogative of divine grace and her 
 special glory. For by the singular gift of 
 Him who is our Lord and God, and withal, 
 her own son, she is to be confessed most 
 truly and most blessedly — The mother of God 
 
 ambiguity which is not continued in our derived word Person. Per- 
 sona signifies not only Person, in our sense of the word, but also an 
 assumed cJtaracter. Though however we have not this sense in 
 Person, we have it in Personate. 
 
 2 If the Son of God had taken to Himself a man now made and 
 already perfected, it would of necessity follow that there are in 
 Christ two persons, the one assuming and the other assumed; 
 whereas, the Son of God did not assume a man's person unto His 
 own, but a man's nature to His own person, and therefore took 
 semen, the seed of Abraham, the very first original element of our 
 nature, before it was come to have any personal human subsistence. 
 The flesh, and the conjunction of the flesh with God, began both in 
 one instant. His making and taking to Himself our flesh was but one 
 act, so that in Christ there is no personal subsistence but one, and 
 that from everlasting. By taking only the nature of man He still 
 continueth one person, andchangeth but the manner of His subsisting, 
 which was before in the mere glory of the Son of God, and is now 
 in the habit of our flesh. — Hooker, Eccl. Pol. v. 52, § 3. 
 
 3 "A kind of mutual commutation there is, whereby those con- 
 crete names, God and man, when we speak of Christ, do take inter- 
 changeably one another's room, so that for truth of speech, it skill- 
 eth not, whether we say that the Son of God hath created the world, 
 and the Son of man by His death hath saved it, or else, that the Son 
 of man did create, and the Son of God die to save the world. How- 
 beit, as oft as we attribute to God what the manhood of Christ claim- 
 eth, or to man what His Deity hath right unto, we understand by the 
 name of God and the name of man neither the one nor the other 
 nature, but the whole person of Christ, in whom both natures are." 
 — Hooker, Eccl. Polity, v. 53, § 4. This is technically called "The 
 Communication of Properties," Communicatio idiomatum. 
 
 4 St. John iii. 13. ° 1 Cor. ii. 8. 6 Ps. xxii. 16. 
 
A COMMONITORY. 
 
 H3 
 
 "Theotocos," but not in the sense in which it 
 is imagined by a certain impious heresy which 
 maintains, that she is to be called the Mother 
 of God for no other reason than because she 
 gave birth to that man who afterwards became 
 God, just as we speak of a woman as the 
 mother of a priest, or the mother of a bishop, 
 meaning that she was such, not by giving 
 birth to one already a priest or a bishop, but 
 by giving birth to one who afterwards became 
 a priest or a bishop. Not thus, I say, was 
 the holy Mary "Theotocos," the mother of 
 God, but rather, as was said before, because 
 in her sacred womb was wrought that most 
 sacred mystery whereby, on account of the 
 singular and unique unity of Person, as the 
 Word in flesh is flesh, so Man in God is God. 1 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Recapitulation of what was said of the Catholic Faith and 
 of divers Heresies, Chapters xi-xv. 
 
 [41.] But now that we may refresh our 
 remembrance of what has been briefly said 
 concerning either the afore-mentioned heresies 
 or the Catholic Faith, let us go over it again 
 more briefly and concisely, that being repeated 
 it may be more thoroughly understood, and 
 being pressed home more firmly held. 
 
 Accursed then be Photinus, who does not 
 receive the Trinity complete, but asserts that 
 Christ is mere man. 
 
 Accursed be- Apollinaris, who affirms that 
 the Godhead of Christ is marred by conver- 
 sion, and defrauds Him of the property of 
 perfect humanity. 
 
 Accursed be Nestorius, who denies that 
 God was born of the Virgin, affirms two 
 Christs, and rejecting the belief of the 
 Trinity, brings in a Quaternity. 
 
 But blessed be the Catholic Church, which 
 worships one God in the completeness of the 
 Trinity, and at the same time adores the 
 equality of the Trinity in the unity of the 
 Godhead, so that neither the singularity of 
 substance confounds the propriety of the Per- 
 sons, not the distinction of the Persons in the 
 Trinity separates the unity of the Godhead. 
 
 Blessed, I say, be the Church, which be- 
 lieves that in Christ there are two true and 
 perfect substances but one Person, so that 
 neither doth the distinction of natures divide 
 the unity of Person, nor the unity of Person 
 confound the distinction of substances. 
 
 Blessed, I say, be the Church, which under- 
 stands God to have become Man, not by con- 
 version of nature, but by reason of a Person, 
 
 1 Sicut Verbum in came caro, ita Homo in Deo Deus est. Com- 
 pare the Atlianasian Creed, v. 33, in what is probably the true read- 
 ing, " Unus autem, non conversione Divinitatis in came, sed 
 assumptione Humanitatis in Deo." _ 
 
 but of a Person not feigned and transient, 
 but substantial and permanent. 
 
 Blessed, I say, be the Church, which de- 
 clares this unity of Person to be so real and 
 effectual, that because of it, in a marvellous 
 and ineffable mystery, she ascribes divine at- 
 tributes to man, and human to God ; because 
 of it, on the one hand, she does not deny that 
 Man, as God, came down from heaven, on 
 the other, she believes that God, as Man, was 
 created, suffered, and was crucified on earth ; 
 because of it, finally, she confesses Man the 
 Son of God, and God the Son of the Virgin. 
 
 Blessed, then, and venerable, blessed and 
 most sacred, and altogether worthy to be com- 
 pared with those celestial praises of the 
 Angelic Host, be the confession which ascribes 
 glory to the one Lord God with a threefold 
 ascription of holiness. For this reason more- 
 over she insists emphatically upon the oneness 
 of the Person of Christ, that she may not go 
 beyond the mystery of the Trinity (that is 
 by making in effect a Quaternity.) 
 
 Thus much by way of digression. On 
 another occasion, please God, we will deal 
 with the subject and unfold it more fully. 2 
 Now let us return to the matter in hand. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The Error of Origen a great Trial to the Church. 
 
 [42.] We said above that in the Church of 
 God the teacher's error is the people's trial, 
 a trial by so much the greater in proportion 
 to the greater learning of the erring teacher. 
 This we showed first by the authority of 
 Scripture, and then by instances from Church 
 History, of persons who having at one time 
 had the reputation of being sound in the faith, 
 eventually either fell away to some sect already 
 in existence, or else founded a heresy of their 
 own. An important fact truly, useful to be 
 learnt, and necessary to be remembered, and 
 to be illustrated and enforced again and again, 
 by example upon example, in order that all 
 true Catholics may understand that it be- 
 hoves them with the Church to receive Teach- 
 ers, not with Teachers to desert the faith of 
 the Church. 
 
 [43.] My belief is, that among many 
 instances of this sort of trial which might be 
 produced, there is not one to be compared 
 with that of Origen, 3 in whom there were 
 
 2 Anrtelmi, who ascribed the Athanasian Creed to Vincentius, 
 thought that document a fulfilment of the promise here made. Nova 
 de Symbolo Athanasiano Disquisitio. — See Appendix I. 
 
 3 Origen was born of Christian parents, at Alexandria, about the 
 year 186. His father, Leonidas, suffered martyrdom in the perse- 
 cution under Severus, in 202 ; and the family estate having been con- 
 fiscated, his mother, with six younger children, became dependent 
 upon him for her support, At the age of eighteen he was appointed 
 by the bishop Demetrius over the Catechetical School of Alexandria, 
 
1 44 
 
 VINCENT OF LERINS. 
 
 many things so excellent, so unique, so 
 admirable, that antecedently any one would 
 readily deem that implicit faith was to be 
 placed in all his assertions. For if the con- 
 versation and manner of life carry authority, 
 great was his industry, great his modesty, his 
 patience, his endurance; if his descent or his 
 erudition, what more noble than his birth of 
 a house rendered illustrious by martyrdom? 
 Afterwards, when in the cause of Christ he 
 had been deprived not only of his father, but 
 also of all his property, he attained so high a 
 standard in the midst of the straits of holy 
 poverty, that he suffered several times, it is 
 said, as a Confessor. Nor were these the 
 only circumstances connected with him, all of 
 which afterwards proved an occasion of trial. 
 He had a genius so powerful, so profound, so 
 acute, so elegant, that there was hardly any 
 one whom he did not very far surpass. The 
 splendour of his learning, and of his erudition 
 generally, was such that there were few points 
 of divine philosophy, hardly any of human, 
 which he did not thoroughly master. When 
 Greek had yielded to his industry, he made 
 himself a proficient in Hebrew. What shall I 
 say of his eloquence, the style of which was 
 so charming, so soft, so sweet, that honey 
 rather than words seemed to flow from his 
 mouth! What subjects were there, however 
 difficult, which he did not render clear and per- 
 spicuous by the force of his reasoning? What 
 undertakings, however hard to accomplish, 
 which he did not make to appear most easy? 
 But perhaps his assertions rested simply on in- 
 geniously woven argumentation? On the con- 
 trary, no teacher ever used more proofs drawn 
 from Scripture. Then I suppose he wrote 
 little? No man more, so that, if I mistake 
 not, his writings not only cannot all be read 
 through, they cannot all be found ; x for that 
 nothing might be wanting to his opportunities 
 of obtaining knowledge, he had the additional 
 advantage of a life greatly prolonged. 2 But 
 perhaps he was not particularly happy in his 
 disciples? Who ever more so? From his 
 school came forth doctors, priests, confessors, 
 
 the duties of which place he discharged with eminent ability and 
 success. He remained a layman till the age of forty-three, when he 
 was admitted to priest's orders at Ca?sarea, greatly to the displeasure 
 of Demetrius, by whose hand, according to the Church's rule, the office 
 ought to have been conferred, and he was in consequence banished 
 from Alexandria. Returning to Cssarea, he taught there with great 
 reputation, and had many eminent persons among his disciples. He 
 suffered much in the Decian persecution in 250, when he was thrown 
 into prison and subjected to severe tortures. His works, as Vincen- 
 tuis says, were very numerous, including among them the Hexapla, 
 a revised edition of the Hebrew Scriptures and of the Septuagint ver- 
 sion, together with three other versions, the Hebrew being set forth 
 in both Hebrew and Greek characters. His writings were corrupted 
 in many instances, so that, as Vincentius says, opinions were often 
 imputed to him which he would not have acknowledged. He died in 
 his sixty-ninth year at Tyre, and was buried there. 
 
 1 " Quis nostrum," says St. Jerome, " potest tanta legere quanta 
 llle conscripsit." — Hieron. ad Pam. et Ocean. 
 
 2 He died, as was said in the preceding note, in his sixty-ninth 
 year. 
 
 martyrs, without number. 3 Then who can 
 express how much he was admired by all, 
 how great his renown, how wide his influ- 
 ence? Who was there whose religion was at 
 all above the common standard that did not 
 hasten to him from the ends of the earth? 
 What Christian did not reverence him almost 
 as a prophet; what philosopher as a master? 
 How great was the veneration with which he 
 was regarded, not only by private persons, but 
 also by the Court, is declared by the histories 
 which relate how he was sent for by the 
 mother of the Emperor Alexander, 4 moved by 
 the heavenly wisdom with the love of which 
 she, as he, was inflamed. To this also his 
 letters bear witness, which, with the authority 
 which he assumed as a Christian Teacher, he 
 wrote to the Emperor Philip, 5 the first Roman 
 prince that was a Christian. As to his in- 
 credible learning, if any one is unwilling to 
 receive the testimony of Christians at our 
 hands, let him at least accept that of heathens 
 at the hands of philosophers. For that im- 
 pious Porphyry says that when he was little 
 more than a boy, incited by his fame, he 
 went to Alexandria, and there saw him, then 
 an old man, but a man evidently of so great 
 attainments, that he had reached the summit 
 of universal knowledge. 
 
 [44.] Time would fail me to recount, even 
 in a very small measure, the excellencies of 
 this man, all of which, nevertheless, not 
 only contributed to the glory of religion, but 
 also increased the magnitude of the trial. 
 For who in the world would lightly desert a 
 man of so great genius, so great learning, so 
 great influence, and would not rather adopt 
 that saying, That he would rather be wrong 
 with Origen, than be right with others. 6 
 
 What shall I say more? The result was 
 that very many were led astray from the 
 integrity of the faith, not by any human 
 excellencies of this so great man, this so 
 great doctor, this so great prophet, but, as 
 the event showed, by the too perilous trial 
 which he proved to be. Hence it came to 
 pass, that this Origen, such and so great as 
 he was, wantonly abusing the grace of God, 
 rashly following the bent of his own genius, 
 and placing overmuch confidence in himself, 
 making light account of the ancient simplicity 
 of the Christian religion, presuming that he 
 knew more than all the world besides, de- 
 
 3 Among these were Gregory Thaumaturgus, Bishop of Neo- 
 Caesarea in Pontus, and Firmihan, Bishop of Cssarea in Cappa- 
 docia. 
 
 4 Mammea. 
 
 B These are St. Jerome's words, from whose book, De Viris illus- 
 tribus c. 54, Vincentius's account of Origen is taken. The vexed 
 question of Philip's claim to be ranked as a Christian is discussed by 
 Tillemont. — Histoire cits Empereurs, T. iii. pp. 494 sgq. 
 
 B Errare malo cum Platone quam cum istis vera sentire. — Cicero, 
 Tuscul. Quasi. 1. 
 
A COMMONITORY. 
 
 '45 
 
 spising the traditions of the Church and the 
 determinations of the ancients, and interpret- 
 ing certain passages of Scripture in a novel 
 way, deserved for himself the warning given 
 to the Church of God, as applicable in his 
 case as in that of others, " If there arise a 
 prophet in the midst of thee," . . . "thou shalt 
 not hearken to the words of that prophet," 
 . . . "because the Lord your God doth make 
 trial of you, whether you love Him or 
 not." 1 Truly, thus of a sudden to seduce the 
 Church which was devoted to him, and hung 
 upon him through admiration of his genius, 
 his learning, his eloquence, his manner of 
 life and influence, while she had no fear, no 
 suspicion for herself, — thus, I say, to seduce 
 the Church, slowly and little by little, from 
 the old religion to a new profaneness, was 
 not only a trial, but a great trial. 2 
 
 [45.] But some one will say, Origen's 
 books have been corrupted. I do not deny 
 it; nay, I grant it readily. For that such is 
 the case has been handed down both orally 
 and in writing, not only by Catholics, but by 
 heretics as well. But the point is, that though 
 himself be not, yet books published under his 
 name are, a great trial, which, abounding in 
 many hurtful blasphemies, are both read and 
 delighted in, not as being some one else's, 
 but as being believed to be his, so that, 
 although there was no error in Origen's origi- 
 nal meaning, yet Origen's authority appears 
 to be an effectual cause in leading people to 
 embrace error. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Tertullian a great Trial to the Church. 
 
 [46.] The case is the same with Tertullian. 3 
 For as Origen holds by far the first place 
 
 1 Deuteronomy xiii. 1. 
 
 2 " The great Origen died after his many labors in peace. His 
 immediate pupils were saints and rulers in the Church. He has the 
 praise of St. Athanasius, St. Basil, and St. Gregory Nazianzen, and 
 furnishes materials to St. Ambrose and St. Hilary; yet, as time pro- 
 ceeded, a definite heterodoxy was the growing result of his theology, 
 and at length, three hundred years after his death, he was condemned, 
 and, as has generally been considered, in an Oecumenical Council." — 
 Newman on Development, p. 85, First Edition. 
 
 3 Hardly anything is known of Tertullian, besides what may be 
 gathered from his works, in addition to the following account given 
 by St. Jerome (De Viris Ilhistribus), which I quote from Bishop 
 Kaye's work on Tertullian and his writings: "Tertullian, a pres- 
 byter, the first Latin writer after Victor and Apollonius, was a native 
 of the province of Africa and city of Carthage, the son of a procon- 
 sular centurion. He was a man of a sharp and vehement temper, 
 flourished under Severus and Caracalla, and wrote numerous works, 
 which, as they are generally known, I think it unnecessary to par- 
 ticularize, f saw at Concordia, in Italy, an old man named Paulus, 
 who said that, when young, he had met at Rome with an aged 
 amanuensis of the blessed Cyprian, who told him that Cyprian never 
 passed a day without reading some portion of Tertullian's works, and 
 used frequently to say, 'Give me my master,' meaning Tertullian. 
 After remaining a presbyter of the Church till he had attained the 
 middle of life, Tertullian was by the cruel and contumelious treatment 
 of the Roman clergy driven to embrace the opinions of Montanus, 
 which he has mentioned in several of his works, under the title of 
 'The New Prophecy.' He is reported to have lived to a very 
 advanced age." He was born about the middle of the second cen- 
 tury, and flourished, according to the dates indicated above, between 
 the years 190 and 216. 
 
 among the Greeks, so does Tertullian among 
 the Latins. For who more learned than he, 
 who more versed in knowledge whether divine 
 or human? With marvellous capacity of mind 
 he comprehended all philosophy, and had a 
 knowledge of all schools of philosophers, and 
 of the founders and upholders of schools, and 
 was acquainted with all their rules and ob- 
 servances, and with their various histories 
 and studies. Was not his genius of such un- 
 rivalled strength and vehemence that there 
 was scarcely any obstacle which he proposed 
 to himself to overcome, that he did not pene- 
 trate by acuteness, or crush by weight? As 
 to his style, who can sufficiently set forth its 
 praise? It was knit together with so much 
 cogency of argument that it compelled assent, 
 even where it failed to persuade. Every word 
 almost was a sentence; every sentence a vic- 
 tory. This know the Marcions, the Apelleses, 
 the Praxeases, the Hermogeneses, the Jews, 
 the Heathens, the Gnostics, and the rest, 
 whose blasphemies he overthrew by the force 
 of his many and ponderous volumes, as with 
 so many thunderbolts. Yet this man also, 
 notwithstanding all that I have mentioned, 
 this Tertullian, I say, too little tenacious of 
 Catholic doctrine, that is, of the universal 
 and ancient faith, more eloquent by far than 
 faithful, 4 changed his belief, and justified what 
 the blessed Confessor, Hilary, writes of him, 
 namely, that "by his subsequent error he 
 detracted from the authority of his approved 
 writings." 5 He also was a great trial in the 
 Church. But of Tertullian I am unwilling to 
 say more. This only I will add, that, contrary 
 to the injunction of Moses, by asserting the 
 novel furies of Montanus 6 which arose in the 
 Church, and those mad dreams of new doc- 
 trine dreamed by mad women, to be true 
 prophecies, he deservedly made both himself 
 and his writings obnoxious to the words, 
 " If there arise a prophet in the midst of 
 thee,". . . "thou shalt not hearken to the 
 words of that prophet." For why? "Because 
 the Lord your God doth make trial of you, 
 whether you love Him or not." 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 What we ought to learn from these Examples. 
 
 [47.] It behoves us, then, to give heed to 
 these instances from Church History, so 
 many and so great, and others of the same 
 
 4 Fidelior, Baluz, Felicior, others. 6 In Mat. v. 
 
 6 Montanus, with his two prophetesses, professed that he was 
 intrusted with a new dispensation, — a dispensation in advance of 
 the Gospel, as the Gospel was in advance of the Law. His system 
 was a protest against the laxity which had grown up in the Church, 
 as has repeatedly been the case after revivals of religious fervor, veri- 
 fying Tertullian's apophthegm, " Christiani fiunt, non nascuntur " 
 (men become Christians, they are not born such). Its characteristics 
 
146 
 
 VINCENT OF LfiRINS. 
 
 description, and to understand distinctly, 
 in* accordance with the rule laid down in 
 Deuteronomy, that if at any time a Doctor in 
 the Church have erred from the faith, Divine 
 Providence permits it in order to make trial 
 of us, whether or not we love God with all 
 our heart and with all our mind. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The Notes of a true Catholic. 
 
 [48.] This being the case, he is the true 
 and genuine Catholic who loves the truth of 
 God, who loves the Church, who loves the 
 Body of Christ, who esteems divine religion 
 and the Catholic Faith above every thing, 
 above the authority, above the regard, above 
 the genius, above the eloquence, above the 
 philosophy, of every man whatsoever; who 
 sets light by all of these, and continuing 
 steadfast and established in the faith, resolves 
 that he will believe that, and that only, which 
 he is sure the Catholic Church has held uni- 
 versally and from ancient time; but that what- 
 soever new and unheard-of doctrine he shall 
 find to have been furtively introduced by some 
 one or another, besides that of all, or contrary 
 to that of all the saints, this, he will under- 
 stand, does not pertain to religion, but is per- 
 mitted as a trial, being instructed especially 
 by the words of the blessed Apostle Paul, who 
 writes thus in his first Epistle to the Cor- 
 inthians, "There must needs be heresies, that 
 they who are approved may be made manifest 
 among you:" 1 as though he should say, This 
 is the reason why the authors of Heresies are 
 not forthwith rooted up by God, namely, that 
 they who are approved may be made manifest; 
 that is, that it may be apparent of each indi- 
 vidual, how tenacious and faithful and stead- 
 fast he is in his love of the Catholic faith. 
 
 [49.] And in truth, as each novelty springs 
 up incontinently is discerned the difference 
 between the weight of the wheat and the 
 lightness of the chaff. Then that which had 
 no weight to keep it on the floor is without 
 difficulty blown away. For some at once fly 
 off entirely; others having been only shaken 
 out, afraid of perishing, wounded, half alive, 
 half dead, are ashamed to return. They have, 
 in fact swallowed a quantity of poison — not 
 enough to kill, yet more than can be got rid 
 of; it neither causes death, nor suffers to 
 .live. O wretched condition! With what 
 
 were extreme ascetism, rigorous fasting, the exaltation of celibacy, the 
 absolute prohibition of second marriage, the expectation of our Lord's 
 second advent as near at hand, the disparagement of the clergy in 
 comparison with its own Paraclete-inspired teachers. It had its rise 
 in Phrygia, and from thence spread throughout Asia Minor, thence it 
 found its way to Southern Gaul, to Rome, to North Western Africa, 
 in which last for a time it had many followers. 
 1 1 Cor. ii. 9. 
 
 surging tempestuous cares are they tossed 
 about! One while, the error being set in 
 motion, they are hurried whithersoever the 
 wind drives them ; another, returning upon 
 themselves like refluent waves, they are dashed 
 back : one while, with rash presumption, they 
 give their approval to what seems uncertain; 
 another, with irrational fear, they are fright- 
 ened out of their wits at what is certain, 
 in doubt whither to go, whither to return, 
 what to seek, what to shun, what to keep, 
 what to throw away. 
 
 [50.] This affliction, indeed, of a hesitating 
 and miserably vacillating mind is, if they 
 are wise, a medicine intended for them by 
 God's compassion. For therefore it is that 
 outside the most secure harbour of the Cath- 
 olic Faith, they are tossed about, beaten, and 
 almost killed, by divers tempestuous cogita- 
 tions, in order that they may take in the sails 
 of self-conceit, which, they had with ill 
 advice unfurled to the blasts of novelty, 
 and may betake themselves again to, and 
 remain stationary within, the most secure 
 harbour of their placid and good mother, and 
 may begin by vomiting up those bitter and 
 turbid floods of error which they had swal- 
 lowed, that thenceforward they may be able 
 to drink the streams of fresh and living water. 
 Let them unlearn well what they had learnt 
 not well, and let them receive so much of the 
 entire doctrine of the Church as they can 
 understand : what they cannot understand let 
 them believe. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Exposition of St. Paul's Words. — 1 Tim. vi. 20. 
 
 [51.] Such being the case, when I think 
 over these things, and revolve them in my mind 
 again and again, I cannot sufficiently wonder 
 at the madness of certain men, at the impiety 
 of their blinded understanding, at their lust 
 of error, such that, not content with the rule 
 of faith delivered once for all, and received 
 from the times of old, they are every day 
 seeking one novelty after another, and are 
 constantly longing to add, change, take away, 
 in religion, as though the doctrine, "Let what 
 has once for all been revealed suffice," were 
 not a heavenly but an earthly rule, — a rule 
 which could not be complied with except by 
 continual emendation, nay, rather by con- 
 tinual fault-finding; whereas the divine 
 Oracles cry aloud, "Remove not the land- 
 marks, which thy fathers have set," 2 and "Go 
 not to law with a Judge," 3 and "Whoso 
 breaketh through a fence a serpent shall bite 
 him," 4 and that saying of the Apostle where- 
 
 5 Prov. xxii. 28. 3 Ecclus. viii. 14. 4 Eccles. x. 8. 
 
A COMMONITORY. 
 
 H7 
 
 with, as with a spiritual sword, all the wicked 
 novelties of all heresies often have been, 
 and will always have to be, decapitated, " O 
 Timothy, keep the deposit, shunning pro- 
 fane novelties of words and oppositions of the 
 knowledge falsely so called, which some pro- 
 fessing have erred concerning the faith." 1 
 
 [52.] After words such as these, is there 
 any one of so hardened a front, such anvil- 
 like impudence, such adamantine pertinacity, 
 as not to succumb to so huge a mass, not to 
 be crushed by so ponderous a weight, not to be 
 shaken in pieces by such heavy blows, not 
 to be annihilated by such dreadful thunder- 
 bolts of divine eloquence? "Shun profane 
 novelties," he says. He does not say shun 
 "antiquity." But he plainly points to what 
 ought to follow by the rule of contrary. For if 
 novelty is to. be shunned, antiquity is to be 
 held fast; if novelty is profane, antiquity is 
 sacred. He adds, " And oppositions of science 
 falsely so called." "Falsely called" indeed, 
 as applied to the doctrines of heretics, where 
 ignorance is disguised under the name of 
 knowledge, fog of sunshine, darkness of light. 
 "Which some professing have erred concern- 
 ing the faith." Professing what? What but 
 some (I know not what) new and unheard-of 
 doctrine. For thou mayest hear some of these 
 same doctors say, "Come, O silly wretches, 
 who go by the name of Catholics, come and 
 learn the true faith, which no one but our- 
 selves is acquainted with, which same has lain 
 hid these many ages, but has recently been 
 revealed and made manifest. But learn it by 
 stealth and in secret, for you will be delighted 
 with it. Moreover, when you have learnt it, 
 teach it furtively, that the world may not hear, 
 that the Church may not know. For there 
 are but few to whom it is granted to receive 
 the secret of so great a mystery." Are not 
 these the words of that harlot who, in the 
 proverbs of Solomon, calls to the passengers 
 who go right on their ways, "Whoso is 
 simple let him turn in hither." And as for 
 them that are void of understanding, she 
 exhorts them saying: "Drink stolen waters, 
 
 »for they are sweet, and eat bread in secret for 
 it is pleasant." What next? "But he know- 
 eth not that the sons of earth perish in her 
 house." 1 Who are those "sons of earth"? 
 Let the apostle explain: "Those who have 
 erred concerning the faith." 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A more particular Exposition of 1 Tim. vi. 20. 
 
 [53.] But it is worth while to expound the 
 whole of that passage of the apostle more 
 
 . im. vi. 20. 
 
 2 Prov. ix. 16-1S. 
 
 fully, "O Timothy, keep the deposit, avoid- 
 ing profane novelties of words." 
 
 "O! " The exclamation implies fore-know- 
 ledge as well as charity. For he mourned in 
 anticipation over the errors which he foresaw. 
 Who is the Timothy of to-day, but either gener- 
 ally the Universal Church, or in particular, the 
 whole body of The Prelacy, whom it behoves 
 either themselves to possess or to communicate 
 to others a complete knowledge of religion? 
 What is "Keep the deposit"? "Keep it," 
 because of thieves, because of adversaries, 
 lest, while men sleep, they sow tares over that 
 good wheat which the Son of Man had sown 
 in his field. "Keep the deposit." What is 
 "The deposit"? That which has been in- 
 trusted to thee, not that which thou hast 
 thyself devised : a matter not of wit, but of 
 learning; not of private adoption, but of 
 public tradition; a matter brought to thee, not 
 put forth by thee, wherein thou art bound to be 
 not an author but a keeper, not a teacher 
 but a disciple, not a leader but a follower. 
 "Keep the deposit." Preserve the talent of 
 Catholic Faith inviolate, unadulterate. That 
 which has been intrusted to thee, let it con- 
 tinue in thy possession, let it be handed 
 on by thee. Thou hast received gold; give 
 gold in turn. Do not substitute one thing 
 for another. Do not for gold impudently 
 substitute lead or brass. Give real gold, not 
 counterfeit. 
 
 O Timothy! O Priest! O Expositor! O 
 Doctor! if the divine gift hath qualified 
 thee by wit, by skill, by learning, be thou a 
 Bazaleel of the spiritual tabernacle, 3 engrave 
 the precious gems of divine doctrine, fit them 
 in accurately, adorn them skilfully, add splen- 
 dor, grace, beauty. Let that which formerly 
 was believed, though imperfectly apprehend- 
 ed, as expounded by thee be clearly under- 
 stood. Let posterity welcome, understood 
 through thy exposition, what antiquity vener- 
 ated without understanding. Yet teach still 
 the same truths which thou hast learnt, so that 
 though thou speakest after a new fashion, what 
 thou speakest may not be new. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 On Development in Religious Knowledge. 
 
 [54.] But some one will say perhaps, 
 Shall there, then, be no progress in Christ's 
 Church? Certainly; all possible progress. 
 For what being is there, so envious of men, 
 so full of hatred to God, who would seek to 
 forbid it? Yet on condition that it be real 
 
 3 Exod. xxxi. 1, etc. 
 
148 
 
 VINCENT OF LfiRINS. 
 
 progress, not alteration of the faith. For 
 progress requires that the subject be enlarged 
 in itself, alteration, that it be transformed 
 into something else. The intelligence, then, 
 the knowledge, the wisdom, as well of indi- 
 viduals as of all, as well of one man as of the 
 whole Church, ought, in the course of ages 
 and centuries, to increase and make much 
 and vigorous progress; but yet only in its 
 own kind ; that is to say, in the same doc- 
 trine, in the same sense, and in the same 
 meaning. 
 
 [55.] The growth of religion in the soul 
 must be analogous to the growth of the body, 
 which, though in process of years it is 
 developed and attains its full size, yet 
 remains still the same. There is a wide dif- 
 erence between the flower of youth and the 
 maturity of age ; yet they who were once young 
 are still the same now that they have become 
 old, insomuch that though the stature and 
 outward form of the individual are changed, 
 yet his nature is one and the same, his person 
 is one and the same. An infant's limbs are 
 small, a young man's large, yet the infant 
 and the young man are the same. Men when 
 full grown have the same number of joints 
 that they had when children ; and if there be 
 any to which maturer age has given birth, 
 these were already present in embryo, so 
 that nothing new is produced in them when 
 old which was not already latent in them 
 when children. This, then, is undoubtedly 
 the true and legitimate rule of progress, this 
 the established and most beautiful order of 
 growth, that mature age ever develops in the 
 man those parts and forms which the wisdom 
 of the Creator had already framed beforehand 
 in the infant. Whereas, if the human form 
 were changed into some shape belonging to 
 another kind, or at any rate, if the number of 
 its limbs were increased or diminished, the 
 result would be that the whole body would 
 become either a wreck or a monster, or, at the 
 least, would be impaired and enfeebled. 
 
 [56.] In like manner, it behoves Christian 
 doctrine to follow the same laws of progress, 
 so as to be consolidated by years, enlarged by 
 time, refined by age, and yet, withal, to con- 
 tinue uncorrupt and unadulterate, complete 
 and perfect in all the measurement of its 
 parts, and, so to speak, in all its proper 
 members and senses, admitting no change, no 
 waste of its distinctive property, no variation 
 in its limits. 
 
 [57.] For example: Our forefathers in the 
 old time sowed wheat in the Church's field. 
 It would be most unmeet and iniquitous if 
 we, their descendants, instead of the genuine 
 truth of corn, should reap the counterfeit 
 error of tares. This rather should be the 
 
 result, — there should be no discrepancy be- 
 tween the first and the last. From doctrine 
 which was sown as wheat, we should reap, in 
 the increase, doctrine of the same kind — 
 wheat also; so that when in process of time 
 any of the original seed is developed, and 
 now flourishes under cultivation, no change 
 may ensue in the character of the plant. 
 There may supervene shape, form, variation 
 in outward appearance, but the nature of each 
 kind must remain the same. God forbid that 
 those rose-beds of Catholic interpretation 
 should be converted into thorns and thistles. 
 God forbid that in that spiritual paradise 
 from plants of cinnamon and balsam darnel 
 and wolfsbane should of a sudden shoot 
 forth. 
 
 Therefore, whatever has been sown by the 
 fidelity of the Fathers in this husbandry of 
 God's Church, the same ought to be culti- 
 vated and taken care of by the industry of 
 their children, the same ought to flourish and 
 ripen, the same ought to advance and go for- 
 ward to perfection. For it is right that those 
 ancient doctrines of heavenly philosophy 
 should, as time goes on, be cared for, 
 smoothed, polished; but not that they should 
 be changed, not that they should be maimed, 
 not that they should be mutilated. They 
 may receive proof, illustration, definiteness; 
 but they must retain withal their complete- 
 ness, their integrity, their characteristic 
 properties. 
 
 [58.] For if once this license of impious 
 fraud be admitted, I dread to say in how 
 great danger religion will be of being utterly 
 destroyed and annihilated. For if any one 
 part of Catholic truth be given up, another, 
 and another, and another will thenceforward 
 be given up as a matter of course, and the 
 several individual portions having been 
 rejected, what will follow in the end but the 
 rejection of the whole? On the other hand, 
 if what is new begins to be mingled with 
 what is old, foreign with domestic, profane 
 with sacred, the custom will of necessity 
 creep on universally, till at last the Church 
 will have nothing left untampered with, 
 nothing unadulterated, nothing sound, nothing 
 pure ; but where formerly there was a sanctuary 
 of chaste and undefiled truth, thenceforward 
 there will be a brothel of impious and base 
 errors. May God's mercy avert this wicked- 
 ness from the minds of his servants; be it 
 rather the frenzy of the ungodly. 
 
 [59.] But the Church of Christ, the careful 
 and watchful guardian of the doctrines depos- 
 ited in her charge, never changes anything 
 in them, never diminishes, never adds, does 
 not cut off what is necessary, does not add 
 what is superfluous, does not lose her own, 
 
A COMMONITORY. 
 
 149 
 
 does not appropriate what is another's, but 
 while dealing faithfully and judiciously with 
 ancient doctrine, keeps this one object care- 
 fully in view, — if there be anything which 
 antiquity has left shapeless and rudimentary, 
 to fashion and polish it, if anything already 
 reduced to shape and developed, to consoli- 
 date and strengthen it, if any already ratified 
 and defined to keep and guard it. Finally, 
 what other object have Councils ever aimed at 
 in their decrees, than to provide that what 
 was before believed in simplicity should in 
 future be believed intelligently, that what was 
 before preached coldly should in future be 
 preached earnestly, that what was before prac- 
 tised negligently should thenceforward be 
 practised with double solicitude? This, I say, 
 is what the Catholic Church, roused by the 
 novelties of heretics, has accomplished by the 
 decrees of her Councils, — this, and nothing 
 else, — she has thenceforward consigned to 
 posterity in writing what she had received 
 from those of olden times only by tradition, 
 comprising a great amount of matter in a few 
 words, and often, for the better understanding, 
 designating an old article of the faith by the 
 characteristic of a new name. 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Continuation of the Exposition of 1 Tim. vi. 20. 
 
 [60.] But let us return to the apostle. 
 "O Timothy," he says, "Guard the deposit, 
 shunning profane novelties of words." 
 " Shun them as you would a viper, as you 
 would a scorpion, as you would a basilisk, lest 
 they smite you not only with their touch, but 
 even with their eyes and breath. " What is " to 
 shun " ? Not even to eat 2 with a person of this 
 sort. What is " shun " ? " If anyone," says St. 
 John, "come to you and bring not this doc- 
 trine." What doctrine? What but the Catholic 
 and universal doctrine, which has continued 
 one and the same through the several succes- 
 sions of ages by the uncorrupt tradition of 
 the truth, and so will continue for ever — " Re- 
 ceive him not into your house, neither bid him 
 Godspeed, for he that biddeth him Godspeed 
 communicates with him in his evil deeds." 8 
 
 [61.] "Profane novelties of words." 
 What words are these? Such as have noth- 
 ing sacred, nothing religious, words utterly 
 remote from the inmost sanctuary of the 
 Church, which is the temple of God. " Pro- 
 fane novelties of words," that is, of doctrines, 
 
 1 For instance, the proper Deity of our Blessed Lord by the 
 word " Homousios," consubstantial, of one substance, essence, 
 nature. 
 
 2 Cor. v. 11. 
 
 3 2 John 10 
 
 subjects, opinions, such as are contrary to 
 antiquity and the faith of the olden time. 
 Which if they be received, it follows neces- 
 sarily that the faith of the blessed fathers is 
 violated either in whole, or at all events in 
 great part; it follows necessarily that all the 
 faithful of all ages, all the saints, the chaste, 
 the continent, the virgins, all the clergy, 
 Deacons and Priests, so many thousands 
 of Confessors, so vast an army of martyrs, . 
 such multitudes of cities and of peoples, so 
 many islands, provinces, kings, tribes, king- 
 doms, nations, in a word, almost the whole 
 earth, incorporated in Christ the Head, 
 through the Catholic faith, have been ignorant 
 for so long a tract of time, have been mis- 
 taken, have blasphemed, have not known what 
 to believe, what to confess. 
 
 [62.] " Shun prof ane novelties of words," 
 which to receive and follow was never the 
 part of Catholics; of heretics always was. 
 In sooth, what heresy ever burst forth save 
 under a definite name, at a definite place, at 
 a definite time? Who ever originated a heresy 
 that did not first dissever himself from the 
 consentient agreement of the universality and 
 antiquity of the Catholic Church? ' That this 
 is so is demonstrated in the clearest way by 
 examples. For who ever before that profane 
 Pelagius 4 attributed so much antecedent 
 strength to Free-will, as to deny the necessity 
 of God's grace to aid it towards good in every 
 
 i Pelagius, a monk, a Briton by birth, but resident in Rome, 
 where by the strictness of his life he had acquired a high reputation 
 for sanctity, was led, partly perhaps by opposition to St. Augustine's 
 teaching on the subject of election and predestination, partly by 
 indignation at the laxity of professing Christians, who pleaded, in 
 excuse for their low standard, the weakness of human nature, to 
 insist upon man's natural power, and to deny his need of divine grace. 
 
 Pelagius was joined by another monk, Ccelestius, a younger man, 
 with whom about the year 410, the year in which Rome was taken 
 by the Goths, he began to teach openly and in public what before he 
 had held and taught in private. After the sack of Rome, the two 
 friends passed over into Africa, and from thence Pelagius proceeded 
 to Palestine, where he was in two separate synods acquitted of the 
 charge of heresy, which had been brought against him by Orosius, a 
 Spanish monk, whom Augustine had sent for that purpose. But in 
 416, two African synods condemned his doctrine, and Zosimus, 
 bishop of Rome, whom he had appealed to, though he had set aside 
 their decision, was eventually obliged to yield to the firmness with 
 which they held their ground, and not only to condemn Pelagius, 
 but to take stringent measures against his adherents. "In 418, an- 
 other African synod of two hundred and fourteen bishops passed nine 
 cano*ns, which were afterwards generally accepted throughout the 
 Church, and came to be regarded as the most important bulwark 
 against Pelagianism." The heresy was formally condemned, in 431, 
 by the General Council of Ephesus. Canons 2 and 4. 
 
 The Pelagians denied the corruption of man's nature, and the 
 necessity of divine grace. They held that infants new-born are in 
 the same state in which Adam was before his fall; that Adam's 
 sin injured no one but himself, and affected his posterity no other 
 wise than by the evil example which it afforded; they held also that 
 men may live without sin if they will, and that some have so lived. 
 
 Those who were afterwards called semi-Pelagians (they belonged 
 chiefly to the churches of Southern Gaul) were orthodox except in 
 one particular : In their anxiety to justify, as they thought, Gt.-d's 
 dealings with man, they held that the first step in the way of salva- 
 tion must be from ourselves : we must ask that we may receive, seek 
 that we may find, knock that it may be opened to us; thenceforward 
 in every stage of the road, our strenuous efforts must be aided by 
 divine grace. They did not understand, or did not grant, that to that 
 same grace must be referred even the disposition to ask, to seek, to 
 knock. See Prosper's letter to Augustine, August. Opera, Tom. x. 
 
 The semi- Pelagian doctrine was condemned in the second Council 
 of Orange (a.d. 529), the third and fifth canons of which are directed 
 against it. 
 
150 
 
 VINCENT OF LERINS. 
 
 single act? Who ever before his monstrous 
 disciple Coelestius denied that the whole 
 human race is involved in the guilt of Adam's 
 sin? Who ever before sacrilegious Arius 
 dared to rend asunder the unity of the 
 Trinity? Who before impious Sabellius was 
 so audacious as to confound the Trinity of 
 the Unity? Who before cruellest Novatian 
 represented God as cruel in that He had 
 rather the wicked should die than that he 
 should be converted and live? Who before 
 Simon Magus, who was smitten by the apos- 
 tle's rebuke, and from whom that ancient sink 
 of every thing vile has flowed by a secret con- 
 tinuous succession even to Priscillian of our 
 own time, — ■ who, I say, before this Simon 
 Magus, dared to say that God, the Creator, 
 is the author of evil, that is, of our wicked- 
 nesses, impieties, flagitiousnesses, inasmuch as 
 he asserts that He created with His own hands 
 a human nature of such a description, that of 
 its own motion, and by the impulse of its 
 necessity-constrained will, it can do nothing 
 else, can will nothing else, but sin, seeing 
 that tossed to and fro, and set on fire by 
 the furies of all sorts of vices, it is hurried 
 away by unquenchable lust into the utmost 
 extremes of baseness ? 
 
 [63.] There are innumerable instances of 
 this kind, which for brevity's sake, pass over; 
 by all of which, however, it is manifestly 
 and clearly shown, that it is an established 
 law, in the case of almost all heresies, 
 that they evermore delight in profane novel- 
 ties, scorn the decisions of antiquity, and, 
 through oppositions of science falsely so 
 called, make shipwreck of the faith. On the 
 other hand, it is the sure characteristic of 
 Catholics to keep that which has been com- 
 mitted to their trust by the holy Fathers, to con- 
 demn profane novelties, and, in the apostle's 
 words, once and again repeated, to anathema- 
 tize every one who preaches any other doctrine 
 than that which has been received. 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Heretics appeal to Scripture that they may more easily 
 succeed in deceiving. 
 
 [64.] Here, possibly, some one may ask, 
 Do heretics also appeal to Scripture? They 
 do indeed, and with a vengeance ; for you may 
 see them scamper through every single book 
 of Holy Scripture, — through the books of 
 Moses, the books of Kings, the Psalms, the 
 Epistles, the Gospels, the Prophets. Whether 
 among their own people, or among strangers, in 
 
 1 Gal. ii. 9. 
 
 private or in public, in speaking or in writing, 
 at convivial meetings, or in tha streets, hardly 
 ever do they bring forward anything of their 
 own which they do not endeavour to shelter 
 under words of Scripture. Read the works of 
 Paul of Samosata, of Priscillian, of Eunomius, 
 of Jovinian, and the rest of those pests, and 
 you will see an infinite heap of instances, 
 hardly a single page, which does not bristle 
 with plausible quotations from the New Tes- 
 ment or the Old. 
 
 [65.] But the more secretly they conceal 
 themselves under shelter of the Divine Law, 
 so much the more are they to be feared and 
 guarded against. For they know that the evil 
 stench of their doctrine will hardly find accept- 
 ance with any one if it be exhaled pure and 
 simple. They sprinkle it over, therefore, with 
 the perfume of heavenly language, in order 
 that one who would be ready to despise human 
 error, may hesitate to condemn divine words. 
 They do, in fact, what nurses do when they 
 would prepare some bitter draught for chil- 
 dren; they smear the edge of the cup all 
 round with honey, that the unsuspecting 
 child, having first tasted the sweet, may have 
 no fear of the bitter. So too do these act, 
 who disguise poisonous herbs and noxious 
 juices under the names of medicines, so that 
 no one almost, when he reads the label, sus- 
 pects the poison. 
 
 [66.] It was for this reason that the 
 Saviour cried, " Beware of false prophets 
 who come to you in sheep's clothing, but 
 inwardly they are ravening wolves." 2 What 
 is meant by "sheep's clothing"? What but 
 the words which prophets and apostles with 
 the guilelessness of sheep wove beforehand 
 as fleeces, for that immaculate Lamb which 
 taketh away the sin of the world? What are 
 the ravening wolves? What but the savage 
 and rabid glosses of heretics, who continu- 
 ally infest the Church's folds, and tear in 
 pieces the flock of Christ wherever they are 
 able? But that they may with more success- 
 ful guile steal upon the unsuspecting sheep, 
 retaining the ferocity of the wolf, they put off 
 his appearance, and wrap themselves, so to 
 say, in the language of the Divine Law, as in 
 a fleece, so that one, having felt the softness 
 of wool, may have no dread of the wolf's 
 fangs. But what saith the Saviour? "By 
 their fruits ye shall know them ; " that is, 
 when they have begun not only to quote those 
 divine words, but also to expound them, not 
 as yet only to make a boast of them as on their 
 side, but also to interpret them, then will that 
 bitterness, that acerbity, that rage, be under- 
 stood; then will the ill-savour of that novel 
 
 Matt. 
 
A COMMONITORY. 
 
 151 
 
 poison be perceived, then will those profane 
 novelties be disclosed, then may you see first 
 the hedge broken through, then the landmarks 
 of the Fathers removed, then the Catholic 
 faith assailed, then the doctrine of the Church 
 torn in pieces. 
 
 [67.] Such were they whom the Apostle 
 Paul rebukes in his Second Epistle to the 
 Corinthians, when he says, "For of this sort 
 are false apostles, deceitful workers, trans- 
 forming themselves into apostles of Christ." 1 
 The apostles brought forward instances from 
 Holy Scripture; these men did the same. 
 The apostles cited the authority of the 
 Psalms; these men did so likewise. The 
 apostles brought forward passages from the 
 prophets; these men still did the same. But 
 when they began to interpret in different 
 senses the passages which both had agreed 
 in appealing to, then were discerned the 
 guileless from the crafty, the genuine from 
 the counterfeit, the straight from the crooked, 
 then, in one word, the true apostles from 
 the false apostles. "And no wonder," he 
 says, "for Satan himself transforms himself 
 into an angel of light. It is no marvel then 
 if his servants are transformed as the servants 
 of righteousness." Therefore, according to 
 the authority of the Apostle Paul, as often as 
 either false apostles or false teachers cite 
 passages from the Divine Law, by means of 
 which, misinterpreted, they seek to prop up 
 their own errors, there is no doubt that they 
 are following the cunning devices of their 
 father, which assuredly he would never have 
 devised, but that he knew that where he 
 could fraudulently and by stealth introduce 
 error, there is no easier way of effecting his 
 impious purpose than by pretending the 
 authority of Holy Scripture. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Heretics, in quoting Scripture, follow the example of the 
 Devil. 
 
 [68.] But some one will say, What proof 
 have we that the Devil is wont to appeal to 
 Holy Scripture? Let him read the Gospels 
 wherein it is written, "Then the Devil took 
 Him (the Lord the Saviour) and set Him 
 upon a pinnacle of the Temple, and said unto 
 Him: If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself 
 down, for it is written, He shall give His 
 angels charge concerning thee, that they may 
 keep thee in all thy ways: In their hands 
 
 1 2 Cor. xi. 12. 
 
 they shall bear thee up, lest perchance thou 
 dash thy foot against a stone." 2 What sort of 
 treatment must men, insignificant wretches that 
 they are, look for at the hands of him who as- 
 sailed even the Lord of Glory with quotations 
 from Scripture? "If thou be the Son of God," 
 saith he, "cast thyself down." Wherefore? 
 "For," saith he, "it is written." It behoves 
 us to pay special attention to this passage and 
 bear it in mind, that, warned by so important 
 an instance of Evangelical authority, we may 
 be assured beyond doubt, when we find peo- 
 ple alleging passages from the Apostles or 
 Prophets against the Catholic Faith, that the 
 Devil speaks through their mouths. For as 
 then the Head spoke to the Head, so now 
 also the members speak to the members, the 
 members of the Devil to the members of 
 Christ, misbelievers to believers, sacrilegious 
 to religious, in one word, Heretics to Catholics. 
 [69.] But what do they say? "If thou be 
 the Son of God, cast thyself down ; " that is, If 
 thou wouldst be a son of God, and wouldst 
 receive the inheritance of the Kingdom of 
 Heaven, cast thyself down ; that is, cast thy- 
 self down from the doctrine and tradition of 
 that sublime Church, which is imagined to be 
 nothing less than the very temple of God. And 
 if one should ask one of the heretics who 
 gives this advice, How do you prove? What 
 ground have you, for saying, that I ought to 
 cast away the universal and ancient faith of 
 the Catholic Church? he has the answer 
 ready, " For it is written ; " and forthwith he 
 produces a thousand testimonies, a thousand 
 examples, a thousand authorities from the 
 Law, from the Psalms, from the apostles, from 
 the Prophets, by means of which, interpreted 
 on a new and wrong principle, the unhappy 
 soul may be precipitated from the height of 
 Catholic truth to the lowest abyss of heresy. 
 Then, with the accompanying promises, the 
 heretics are wont marvellously to beguile the 
 incautious. For they dare to teach and 
 promise, that in their church, that is, in the 
 conventicle of their communion, there is a 
 certain great and special and altogether 
 personal grace of God, so that whosoever 
 pertain to their number, without any labour, 
 without any effort, without any industry, even 
 though they neither ask, nor seek, nor knock, 
 have such a dispensation from God, that, 
 borne up by angel hands, that is, preserved 
 by the protection of angels, it is impossible 
 they should ever dash their feet against a 
 stone, that is, that they should ever be 
 offended. 3 
 
 2 Matt. iv. 5, etc. 
 
 3 See Appendix II. 
 
152 
 
 VINCENT OF LERINS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 What Rule is to be observed in the Interpretation of 
 Scripture. 
 
 [70.] But it will be said, If the words, the 
 sentiments, the promises of Scripture, are 
 appealed to by the Devil and his disciples, of 
 whom some are false apostles, some false 
 prophets and false teachers,, and all without 
 exception heretics, what are Catholics and the 
 sons of Mother Church to do ? How are they to 
 distinguish truth from falsehood in the sacred 
 Scriptures? They must be very careful to 
 pursue that course which, in the beginning 
 of this Commonitory, we said that holy and 
 learned men had commended to us, that is 
 to say, they must interpret the sacred Canon 
 according to the traditions of the Universal 
 Church and in keeping with the rules of 
 Catholic doctrine, in which Catholic and Uni- 
 versal Church, moreover, they must follow 
 universality, antiquity, consent. And if at 
 any time a part opposes itself to the whole, 
 novelty to antiquity, the dissent of one or a 
 few who are in error to the consent of all or 
 at all events of the great majority of Catho- 
 lics, then they must prefer the soundness of 
 the whole to the corruption of a part; in 
 which same whole they must prefer the 
 religion of antiquity to the profaneness of 
 novelty; and in antiquity itself in like manner, 
 to the temerity of one or of a very few they 
 must prefer, first of all, the general decrees, 
 if such there be, of a Universal Council, or 
 if there be no such, then, what is next best, 
 they must follow the consentient belief of 
 many and great masters. Which rule having 
 been faithfully, soberly, and scrupulously 
 observed, we shall with little difficulty 
 detect the noxious errors of heretics as they 
 arise. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 In what Way, on collating the consentient opinions of the 
 Ancient Masters, the Novelties of Heretics may be detected 
 and condemned. 
 
 [71.] And here I perceive that, as a neces- 
 sary sequel to the foregoing, I ought to show 
 by examples in what way, by collating the 
 consentient opinions of the ancient masters, 
 the profane novelties of heretics may be de- 
 tected and condemned. Yet in the investi- 
 gation of this ancient consent of the holy 
 Fathers we are to bestow our pains not on 
 every minor question of the Divine Law, but 
 only, at all events especially, where the Rule 
 
 of Faith is concerned. Nor is this way of 
 dealing with heresy to be resorted to always, 
 or in every instance, but only in the case of 
 those heresies which are new and recent, and 
 that on their first arising, before they have 
 had time to deprave the Rules of the Ancient 
 Faith, and before they endeavour, while the 
 poison spreads and diffuses itself, to corrupt 
 the writings of the ancients. But heresies 
 already widely diffused and of old standing are 
 by no means to be thus dealt with, seeing that 
 through lapse of time they have long had 
 opportunity of corrupting the truth. And 
 therefore, as to the more ancient schisms or 
 heresies, we ought either to confute them, if 
 need be, by the sole authority of the Scrip- 
 tures, or at any rate, to shun them as having 
 been already of old convicted and condemned 
 by universal councils of the Catholic Priest- 
 hood. 
 
 [72.] Therefore, as soon as the corruption 
 of each mischievous error begins to break 
 forth, and to defend itself by filching certain 
 passages of Scripture, and expounding them 
 fraudulently and deceitfully, forthwith, the 
 opinions of the ancients in the interpretation 
 of the Canon are to be collected, whereby the 
 novelty, and consequently the profaneness, 
 whatever it may be, that arises, may both with- 
 out any doubt be exposed, and without any ter- 
 giversation be condemned. But the opinions 
 of those Fathers only are to be used for com- 
 parison, who living and teaching, holily, 
 wisely, and with constancy, in the Catholic 
 faith and communion, were counted worthy 
 either to die in the faith of Christ, or to 
 suffer death happily for Christ. Whom yet 
 we are to believe on this condition, that that 
 only is to be accounted indubitable, certain, 
 established, which either all, or the more part, 
 have supported and confirmed manifestly, 
 frequently, persistently, in one and the same 
 sense, forming, as it were, a consentient 
 council of doctors, all receiving, holding, 
 handing on the same doctrine. But whatso- 
 ever a teacher holds, other than all, or con- 
 trary to all, be he holy and learned, be he a 
 bishop, be he a Confessor, be he a martyr, 
 let that be regarded as a private fancy of his 
 own, and be separated from the authority of 
 common, public, general persuasion, lest, after 
 the sacrilegious custom of heretics and schis- 
 matics, rejecting the ancient truth of the uni- 
 versal Creed, we follow, at the utmost peril 
 of our eternal salvation, the newly devised 
 error of one man. 
 
 [73.] Lest any one perchance should 
 rashly think the holy and Catholic consent 
 of these blessed fathers to be despised, 
 the Apostle says, in the First Epistle to the 
 Corinthians, "God hath placed some in the 
 
A COMMONITORY. 
 
 153 
 
 Church, first Apostles," 1 of whom himself was 
 one; " secondly Prophets," such as Agabus, 
 of whom we read in the Acts of the Apostles ; 2 
 "then doctors," who are now called Hom- 
 ilists, Expositors, 3 whom the same apostle 
 sometimes calls also "Prophets," because by 
 them the mysteries of the Prophets are opened 
 to the people. Whosoever, therefore, shall 
 despise these, who had their appointment of 
 God in His Church in their several times 
 and places, when they are unanimous in 
 Christ, in the interpretation of some one 
 point of Catholic doctrine, despises not man, 
 but God, from whose unity in the truth, 
 lest any one should vary, the same Apostle 
 earnestly protests, " I beseech you, brethren, 
 that ye all speak the same thing, and that 
 there be no divisions among you, but that ye 
 be perfectly joined together in the same mind 
 and in the same judgment." 4 But if any one 
 dissent from their unanimous decision, let 
 him listen to the words of the same apostle," 
 " God is not the God of dissension but of 
 peace ; " 5 that is, not of him who departs 
 from the unity of consent, but of those who 
 remain steadfast in the peace of consent; 
 "as," he continues, "I teach in all Churches 
 of the saints," that is, of Catholics, which 
 churches are therefore churches of the saints, 
 because they continue steadfast in the com- 
 munion of the faith. 
 
 [74.] And lest any one, disregarding every 
 one else, should arrogantly claim to be lis- 
 tened to himself alone, himself alone to be 
 believed, the Apostle goes on to say, "Did the 
 word of God proceed from you, or did it 
 come to you only? " And, lest this should be 
 thought lightly spoken, he continues, " If any 
 man seem to be a prophet or a spiritual person, 
 let him acknowledge that the things which I 
 write unto you are the Lord's commands." 
 As to which, unless a man be a prophet or a 
 spiritual person, that is, a master in spiritual 
 matters, let him be as observant as possible 
 of impartiality and unity, so as neither to 
 prefer his own opinions to those of every one 
 besides, nor to recede from the belief of 
 the whole* body. Which injunction, whoso 
 ignores, shall be himself ignored; 6 that is, 
 he who either does not learn what he does 
 not know, or treats with contempt what he 
 knows, shall be ignored, that is, shall be 
 deemed unworthy to be ranked of God with 
 those who are united to each other by faith, 
 and equalled with each other by humility, 
 than which I cannot imagine a more terrible 
 evil. This it is however which, according to 
 
 1 1 Cor. xii. 27, 28. * Acts xi. 28. 
 
 3 " Tractatores." St. Augustine's Expository Lectures on St. 
 John's Gospel are entitled " Tractatus." 
 
 * 1 Cor. i. 10. 6 1 Cor. xiv. 33. 8 1 Cor. xiv. 33. 
 
 the Apostle's threatening, we see to have 
 befallen Julian the Pelagian, 7 who either neg- 
 lected to associate himself with the belief 
 of his fellow Christians, or presumed to dis- 
 sociate himself from it. 
 
 [75.] But it is now time to bring forward the 
 exemplification which we promised, where and 
 how the sentences of the holy Fathers have 
 been collected together, so that in accordance 
 with them, by the decree and authority of a 
 council, the rule of the Church's faith may be 
 settled. Which that it may be done the more 
 conveniently, let this present Commonitory end 
 here, so that the remainder which is to follow 
 may be begun from a fresh beginning. 
 
 [The Second Book of the Commonitory is lost. Noth- 
 ing of it remains but the conclusion : in other words, 
 the recapitulation which follows-] 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Recapitulation. 
 
 [76.] This being the case, it is now time 
 that we should recapitulate, at the close of 
 this second Commonitory, what was said in 
 that and in the preceding. 
 
 We said above, that it has always been the 
 custom of Catholics, and still is, to prove 
 the true faith in these two ways ; first by the 
 authority of the Divine Canon, and next by 
 the tradition of the Catholic Chnrch. Not 
 that the Canon alone does not of itself suffice 
 for every question, but seeing that the more 
 part, interpreting the divine words according 
 to their own persuasion, take up various erro- 
 neous opinions, it is therefore necessary that 
 the interpretation of divine Scripture should 
 be ruled according to the one standard of 
 the Church's belief, especially in those arti- 
 cles on which the foundations of all Catholic 
 doctrine rest. 
 
 [77.] We said likewise, that in the Church 
 itself regard must be had to the consentient 
 voice of universality equally with that of 
 antiquity, lest we either be torn from the 
 integrity of unity and carried away to schism, 
 or be precipitated from the religion of an- 
 tiquity into heretical novelties. We said, 
 further, that in this same ecclesiastical 
 antiquity two points are very carefully and 
 earnestly to be held in view by those who 
 
 7 Julian, bishop of Eclanum, a small town in Apulia or Campania, 
 was one of nineteen bishops, who, having espoused the cause of 
 Pelagius, and having refused to subscribe a circular letter issued by 
 Zosimus, now adopting the decisions of the African Council (see 
 above note p. 147) were deposed and banished. St. Augustine at his 
 death left a work against Julian unfinished, " Opus imperfectum 
 contra Julianum" in which he had been engaged till the sickness 
 of which he died put an end to his labours. 
 
T 54 
 
 VINCENT OF LERINS. 
 
 would keep clear of heresy: first, they should 
 ascertain whether any decision has been 
 given in ancient times as to the matter in 
 question by the whole priesthood of the 
 Catholic Church, with the authority of a 
 General Council : and, secondly, if some new 
 question should arise on which no such de- 
 cision has been given, they should then have 
 recourse to the opinions of the holy Fathers, 
 of those at least, who, each in his own time 
 and place, remaining in the unity of com- 
 munion and of the faith, were accepted as 
 approved masters; and whatsoever these may 
 be found to have held, with one mind and, with 
 one consent, this ought to be accounted the 
 true and Catholic doctrine of the Church, 
 without any doubt or scruple. 
 
 [78.] Which lest we should seem to allege 
 presumptuously on our own warrant rather 
 than on the authority of the Church, we 
 appealed to the example of the holy council 
 which some three years ago was held at 
 Ephesus 1 in Asia, in the consulship of Bassus 
 and Antiochus, where, when question was 
 raised as to the authoritative determining of 
 rules of faith, lest, perchance, any profane 
 novelty should creep in, as did the perversion 
 of the truth at Ariminum, 2 the whole body 
 of priests there assembled, nearly two hun- 
 dred in number, approved of this as the 
 most Catholic, the most trustworthy, and the 
 best course, viz., to bring forth into the midst 
 the sentiments of the holy Fathers, some of 
 whom it was well known had been martyrs, 
 some Confessors, but all had been, and con- 
 tinued to the end to be, Catholic priests, in 
 order that by their consentient determina- 
 tion the reverence due to ancient truth might 
 be duly and solemnly confirmed, and the 
 blasphemy of profane novelty condemned. 
 Which having been done, that impious Nes- 
 torius was lawfully and deservedly adjudged 
 to be opposed to Catholic antiquity, and con- 
 trariwise blessed Cyril to be in agreement 
 with it. And that nothing might be wanting 
 to the credibility of the matter, we recorded the 
 names and the number (though we had for- 
 gotten the order) of the Fathers, according 
 to whose consentient and unanimous judg- 
 ment, both the sacred preliminaries of judi- 
 cial procedure were expounded, and the rule 
 of divine truth established. Whom, that we 
 may strengthen our memory, it will be no 
 superfluous labour to mention again here 
 also. 
 
 1 The Council of Ephesus, summoned by the Emperor Theodo- 
 sius to meet at Whitsuntide, 431 (June 7), held its first sitting on 
 June 22, in the Church of St. Mary, where the blessed Virgin was 
 believed to have been buried. 
 
 2 See note above, p. 131, a. 3. 
 
 CHAPTR XXX. 
 
 The Council of Ephesus. 
 
 [79.] These then are the men whose writ 
 ings, whether as judges or as witnesses, were 
 recited in the Council: St. Peter, bishop of 
 Alexandria, a most excellent Doctor and most 
 blessed martyr, Saint Athanasius, bishop of 
 the same city, a most faithful Teacher, and 
 most eminent Confessor, Saint Theophilus, 
 also bishop of the same city, a man illus- 
 trious for his faith, his life, his knowl- 
 edge, whose successor, the revered Cyril, 
 now 3 adorns the Alexandrian Church. And 
 lest perchance the doctrine ratified by the 
 Council should be thought peculiar to one 
 city and province, there were added also 
 those lights of Cappadocia, St. Gregory of 
 Nazianzus, bishop and Confessor, St. Basil 
 of Caesarea in Cappadocia, bishop and Con- 
 fessor, and the other St. Gregory, St. Gregory 
 of Nyssa, for his faith, his conversation, 
 his integrity, and his wisdom, most worthy 
 to be the brother of Basil. And lest Greece 
 or the East should seem to stand alone, to 
 prove that the Western and Latin world 
 also have always held the same belief, there 
 were read in the Council certain Epistles 
 of St. Felix, martyr, and St. Julius, both 
 bishops of Rome. And that not only the 
 Head, but the other parts, of the world also 
 might bear witness to the judgment of the 
 council, there was added from the South the 
 most blessed Cyprian, bishop of Carthage and 
 martyr, and from the North St. Ambrose, 
 bishop of Milan. 
 
 [80.] These all then, to the sacred num- 
 ber of the decalogue, 4 were produced at Eph- 
 
 3 This marks Vincentius's date within very narrow limits, viz. 
 after the Council of Ephesus, and before Cyril's death. Cyril died 
 in 444-. 
 
 4 Vincentius's copy of the acts of the Council appears to have con- 
 tained extracts from no more than ten Fathers. But the Fathers 
 from whose writings extracts were read were twelve in number; the 
 two omitted by Vincentius being Atticus, bishop of Constantinople, 
 and Amphilochius, bishop of Iconium. In Labbe's Concilia, where 
 the whole are given, it is remarked that in one manuscript the two 
 last mentioned occupy a different place from the other*. 
 
 Dean Milman {Latin Christianity, vol. 1, p. 164) speaks of the 
 passages read, " as of very doubtful bearing on the question raised by 
 Nestorius." It is true only two, those from Athanasius and Gregory 
 Nazianzen, contain the crucial term " Theotocos " but all express the 
 truth which "Theotocos" symbolizes. That the word was not of 
 recent introduction, Bishop Pearson {Creed, Art. 3) shows by quota- 
 tions from other writers besides those produced at the Council, going 
 back as far as to Origen. 
 
 The Fathers cited may certainly be said to fulfil to some extent 
 Vincentius's requirement of universality. They represent the teach- 
 ing of Alexandria, Rome, Carthage, Milan, Constantinople, and Asia 
 Minor; but his appeal would hare been more to his purpose if antiq- 
 uity had been more expressly represented. With the exception of 
 Cyprian, all the passages cited were from writers of comparatively 
 recent date at the time, though, as Vincentius truly remarks, others 
 might have been produced. 
 
 Petavius {De Incarn. 1. xiv. c. 15), in defending the cultus of the 
 blessed Virgin and of the saints generally, lays much stress on this 
 omission of citations from earlier Fathers at the Council, as he does 
 'also on similar omissions in the case of the fourth, fifth, and sixth 
 
A COMMONITORY. 
 
 J 55 
 
 esus as doctors, councillors, witnesses, judges. 
 And that blessed council holding their doc- 
 trine, following their counsel, believing their 
 witness, submitting to their judgment without 
 haste, without foregone conclusion, without 
 partiality, gave their determination concerning 
 the Rules of Faith. A much greater number 
 of the ancients might have been adduced; but 
 it was needless, because neither was it fit that 
 the time should be occupied by a multitude of 
 witnesses, nor does any one suppose that those 
 ten were really of a different mind from the 
 rest of their colleagues. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 The Constancy of the Ephesine Fathers in driving away 
 Novelty and maintaining Antiquity. 
 
 [8 1.] After the preceding we added also 
 the sentence of blessed Cyril, which is con- 
 tained in these same Ecclesiastical Proceed- 
 ings. For when the Epistle of Capreolus, 1 
 bishop of Carthage, had been read, wherein he 
 earnestly intreats that novelty may be driven 
 away and antiquity maintained, Cyril made 
 and carried the proposal, which it may not be 
 out of place to insert here : For says he, at the 
 close of the proceedings, "Let the Epistle of 
 Capreolus also, the reverend and very reli- 
 gious bishop of Carthage, which has been read, 
 be inserted in the acts. His mind is obvi- 
 ous, for he intreats that the doctrines of the 
 ancient faith be confirmed, such as are 
 novel, wantonly devised, and impiously pro- 
 mulgated, reprobated and condemned." All 
 the bishops cried out, "These are the words 
 of all; this we all say, this we all desire." 
 What mean "the words of all," what mean 
 "the desires of all," but that what has 
 been handed down from antiquity should be 
 retained, what has been newly devised, re- 
 jected with disdain? 
 
 [82.] Next we expressed our admiration of 
 the humility and sanctity of that Council, 
 
 Councils, with what object is sufficiently obvious. Bishop Bull 
 points out Petavius's disposition to disparage or misrepresent the 
 teaching of the earlier Fathers, in another and still more important 
 instance. (De/ens. Fid. Alic.) Introd. § 8. 
 
 1 The letter of Capreolus is given in Labbe's Concilia, vol. 3, col. 
 . J29 sqq. The Emperor Theodosius had written to Augustine, requir- 
 ing his presence at the Council which he had summoned to meet at 
 Ephesus in the matter of Nestorius. But Augustine having died 
 while the letter was on its way, it was brought to Capreolus, bishop 
 of Carthage and Metropolitan. Capreolus would have summoned a 
 meeting of the African bishops, that they might appoint a delegate to 
 represent them at the Council ; but the presence of the hostile Van- 
 dals, who were laying waste the country in all directions, made it 
 impossible for the bishops to travel to any place of meeting. Cap- 
 reolus therefore could do no more than send his deacon Besula to 
 represent him and the African Church, bearing with him the letter 
 referred to in the text. The letter, after having been read before the 
 Council, both in the original Latin and in a Greek translation, was, 
 on the motion of Cyril, inserted in the acts. 
 
 such that, though the number of priests was 
 so great, almost the more part of them metro- 
 politans, so erudite, so learned, that almost 
 all were capable of taking part in doctrinal 
 discussions, whom the very circumstance of 
 their being assembled for the purpose, might 
 seem to embolden to make some determi- 
 nation on their own authority, yet they inno- 
 vated nothing, presumed nothing, arrogated 
 to themselves absolutely nothing, but used 
 all possible care to hand down nothing to 
 posterity but what they had themselves re- 
 ceived from their Fathers. And not only 
 did they dispose satisfactorily of the matter 
 presently in hand, but they also set an ex- 
 ample to those who should come after them, 
 how they also should adhere to the determi- 
 nations of sacred antiquity, and condemn the 
 devices of profane novelty. 
 
 [83.] We inveighed also against the wicked 
 presumption of Nestorius in boasting that 
 he was the first and the only one who under- 
 stood holy Scripture, and that all those 
 teachers were ignorant, who before him had 
 expounded the sacred oracles, forsooth, the 
 whole body of priests, the whole body of Con- 
 fessors and martyrs, of whom some had pub- 
 lished commentaries upon the Law of God, 
 others had agreed with them in their com- 
 ments, or had acquiesced in them. In a word, 
 he confidently asserted that the whole Church 
 was even now in error, and always had been in 
 error, in that, as it seemed to him, it had 
 followed, and was following, ignorant and 
 misguided teachers. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 The zeal of Celestine and Sixtus, bishops of Rome, in oppos- 
 ing Novelty. 
 
 [84.] The foregoing would be enough and 
 very much more than enough, to crush and 
 annihilate every profane novelty. But yet 
 that nothing might be wanting to such com- 
 pleteness of proof, we added, at the close, 
 the twofold authority of the Apostolic See, 
 first, that of holy Pope Sixtus, the venerable 
 prelate who now adorns the Roman Church ; 
 and secondly that of his predecessor, Pope 
 Celestine of blessed memory, which same we 
 think it necessary to insert here also. 
 
 Holy Pope Sixtus 2 then says in an Epistle 
 which he wrote on Nestorius's matter to the 
 bishop of Antioch, "Therefore, because, as 
 the Apostle says, the faith is one, — evidently 
 the faith which has obtained hitherto, — let 
 
 2 Sixtus III. See the Epistle in Labbe's Concilia, T. 
 Col. 1262. 
 
156 
 
 VINCENT OF LfiRINS. 
 
 us believe the things that are to be said, and 
 say the things that are to be held." What 
 are the things that are to be believed and to 
 be said? He goes on: "Let no license be 
 allowed to novelty, because it is not fit that 
 any addition should be made to antiquity. 
 Let not the clear faith and belief of our fore- 
 fathers be fouled by any muddy admixture." 
 A truly apostolic sentiment! He enhances 
 the belief of the Fathers by the epithet of 
 clearness; profane novelties he calls muddy. 
 
 [85.] Holy Pope Celestine also expresses 
 himself in like manner and to the same 
 effect. For in the Epistle which he wrote to 
 the priests of Gaul, charging them with con- 
 nivance with error, in that by their silence 
 they failed in their duty to the ancient 
 faith, and allowed profane novelties to spring 
 up, he says : " We are deservedly to blame if 
 we encourage error by silence. Therefore 
 rebuke these people. Restrain their liberty 
 of preaching." But here some one may 
 doubt who they are whose liberty to preach 
 as they list he forbids, — the preachers of 
 antiquity or the devisers of novelty. Let 
 himself tell us; let himself resolve the 
 reader's doubt. For he goes on: "If the 
 case be so (that is, if the case be so as 
 certain persons complain to me touching your 
 cities and provinces, that by your hurtful 
 dissimulation you cause them to consent to 
 certain novelties), if the case be so, let 
 novelty cease to assail antiquity." This, 
 then, was the sentence of blessed Celestine, 
 not that antiquity should cease to subvert nov- 
 elty, but that novelty should cease to assail 
 antiquity. 2 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 The Children of the Catholic Church ought to adhere to the 
 Faith of their Fathers and die for it. 
 
 [86.] Whoever then gainsays these Apos- 
 tolic and Catholic determinations, first of all 
 necessarily insults the memory of holy Celes- 
 tine, who decreed that novelty should cease 
 to assail antiquity; and in the next place sets 
 at naught the decision of holy Sixtus, whose 
 sentence was, "Let no license be allowed to 
 novelty, since it is not fit that any addition 
 be made to antiquity;" moreover, he con- 
 temns the determination of blessed Cyril, 
 who extolled with high praise the zeal of 
 
 1 Celestine's letter will be found in the appendix to Vol. x., Part 
 II., of St. Augustine's Works, col. 2403, Paris, 1838. See the 
 remarks on Vincentius's mode of dealing with Celestine's letter, 
 Appendix III. 
 
 the venerable Capreolus, in that he would fain 
 have the ancient doctrines of the faith con- 
 firmed, and novel inventions condemned; yet 
 more, he tramples upon the Council of 
 Ephesus, that is, on the decisions of the holy 
 bishops of almost the whole East, who de- 
 creed, under divine guidance, that nothing 
 ought to be believed by posterity save what 
 the sacred antiquity of the holy Fathers, 
 consentient in Christ, had held, who with one 
 voice, and with loud acclaim, testified that 
 these were the words of all, this was the 
 wish of all, this was the sentence of all, 
 that as almost all heretics before Nestorius, 
 despising antiquity and upholding novelty, 
 had been condemned, so Nestorius, the 
 author of novelty and the assailant of antiq- 
 uity, should be condemned also. Whose 
 consentient determination, inspired by the 
 gift of sacred and celestial grace, whoever 
 disapproves must needs hold the profaneness 
 of Nestorius to have been condemned un- 
 justly; finally, he despises as vile and 
 worthless the whole Church of Christ, and its 
 doctors, apostles, and prophets, and especially 
 the blessed Apostle Paul : he despises the 
 Church, in that she hath never failed in 
 loyalty to the duty of cherishing and preserv- 
 ing the faith once for all delivered to her; 
 he despises St. Paul, who wrote, "O Timothy, 
 guard the deposit intrusted to thee, shunning 
 profane novelties of words;" 2 and again, "If 
 any man preach unto you other than ye have 
 received, let him be accursed." 8 But if 
 neither apostolical injunctions nor ecclesias- 
 tical decrees may be violated, by which, in 
 accordance with the sacred consent of univer- 
 sality and antiquity, all heretics always, and, 
 last of all, Pelagius, Ccelestius, and Nestorius 
 have been rightly and deservedly condemned, 
 then assuredly it is incumbent on all Catho- 
 lics who are anxious to approve themselves 
 genuine sons of Mother Church, to adhere 
 henceforward to the holy faith of the holy 
 Fathers, to be wedded to it, to die in it; 
 but as to the profane novelties of profane men 
 — to detest them, abhor them, oppose them, 
 give them no quarter. 
 
 [87.] These matters, handled more at large 
 in the two preceding Commonitories, I have 
 now put together more briefly by way of 
 recapitulation, in order that my memory, to 
 aid which I composed them, may, on the one 
 hand, be refreshed by frequent reference, and, 
 on the other, may avoid being wearied by 
 prolixity. 
 
 2 Tim. vi. 20. 
 
 Gal. 
 
APPENDIX I. 
 
 Note on Section 41, Page 143. 
 
 There is so close an agreement, both in substance and often in the form of expression, 
 between the preceding sections (36-42) and the so-called Athanasian Creed, that it led 
 Antelmi {Nova de Symb. Athanas. Disquisitio,) to ascribe that document to Vincentius 
 as its author, and to suppose that in it we have the fulfilment of the promise here referred 
 to. If, however, the Creed was the work of Vincentius, it cannot well be the work promised 
 at the close of § 41, for Vincentius's words point to a fuller and more explicit treatment of 
 the subjects referred to, whereas in the Athanasian Creed, though the subjects are the same, 
 the treatment of them is very much briefer and more concise. 
 
 Whoever was the author however, if it was not Vincentius, he must at feast, as the sub- 
 joined extracts seem to prove, have been familiar with the Commonitory, as also with St. 
 Augustine's writings, of which, as well as of the Commonitory, the Creed bears evident traces. 
 
 I subjoin the following instances of agreement between the Commonitory and the 
 Creed: Antelmi gives several others. 
 
 COMMONITORY. 
 
 ATHANASIAN CREED. 
 
 Unum Christum Jesum, non duos, eum- 
 demque Deum pariter atque Hominem con- 
 fitetur. § 36. 
 
 Est ergo Fides recta, ut credamus et con- 
 fiteamur, quia Dominus noster Jesus Christus, 
 Dei Filius, Deus pariter et Homo est. v. 28. 
 
 Alia est Persona Patris, alia Filii, 
 Spiritus Sancti. § 37. 
 
 ilia Alia est Persona Patris, 
 Spiritus Sancti. v. 5. 
 
 alia Filii, alia 
 
 Unus idemque Christus, Deus et Homo, Deus ex substantia Patris, ante saecula 
 
 Idem Patri et eequalis et minor, Idem ex Patre genitus, Homo ex substantia Matris, in 
 
 ante saecula genitus, Idem in saeculo ex Matre sseculo natus; perfectus Deus perfectus Homo, 
 
 generatus, perfectus Deus, perfectus Homo. vv. 29, 30. 
 § 37- 
 
 Unus, non corruptibili nescio qua Divini- Unus omnino, non conversione substantias, 
 tatis et Humanitatis confusione, sed integra et sed unitate Personae. v. 34. 
 singulari quadam unitate Personae. § 37. 
 
 Sicut Verbum in carne caro, ita Homo in Unus, non conversione Divinitatis in carne, 
 Deo Deus est. § 40. sed Adsumptione Humanitatis in Deo. 1 v. 33. 
 
 1 This is probably the true reading. 
 
 157 
 
APPENDIX II. 
 
 Note on Section 69, Page 149. 
 
 That Vincentius had Augustine and his adherents in view in this description will hardly be 
 doubted by any one who will compare it with the following extracts, the first from Prosper's 
 letter to Augustine, 1 giving him an account of the complaints made against his doctrine by 
 the Massilian clergy; the second from St. Augustine's treatise, " De dono Perseveranti " 2 
 written in consequence of it. 
 
 COMMONITORY, § 69. PROSPER TO AUGUSTINE. 
 
 "Si quis interroget quempiam haereticorum "The Massilian clergy complain," he says, 
 sibi talia persuadentem, Unde probas, unde " Romoveri omnem industriam, tollique vir- 
 doces quod Ecclesiae Catholicae universalem tutes, si Dei constitutio humanus praeveniat 
 et antiquam fidem dimittere debeam ? Statim voluntates." §3. 
 
 ille, ' Scriptum est enim,' et continuo milk tes- Then referring to the teaching of the Massil- 
 timonia, milk exempla, milk auctoritates parat ians themselves, Prosper continues, 
 de Lege, de Psalmis, de Apostolis, de Prophetis, " Ad conditionemhanc velint uniuscujusque 
 quibus, novo et malo more interpretatis, ex hominis pertinere, ut ad cognitionem Dei et 
 arce Catholica in haereseos barathrum infelix ad obedientiam mandatorum Ejus possit suam 
 anima praecipitetur. Audent enim polliceri dirigere voluntatem, et ad hanc gratiam qua 
 et docere, quod in Ecclesia sua, id est, in in Christo renascimur pervenire, per natu- 
 communionis suae conventiculo, magna et ralem scilicet facultatem, petendo, qticerendo, 
 specialis ac plane personalis quaedam sit Dei pulsando." 
 
 gratia, adeo ut sine ullo labore, sine ullo Referring to the line of argument pursued 
 studio, sine ulla industria, etiamsi nee petant, by himself and others of Augustine's friends 
 nee qucerant, nee pulsent, quicunque illi ad and the Massilian way of dealing with it, he 
 numerum suum pertinent, tamen ita divinitus says, " Et cum contra eos Scripta Beatitudinis 
 dispensentur, ut, angel icis evecti manibus, id tuas validissimis et innutneris testimoniis Divi- 
 est, angelica protectione servati, nunquam naram Seripturarum instructa proferimus, 
 possint offendere ad lapidem pedem suum, id ... obstinationem suam vetustate defendant" 
 est, nunquam scandal izari." § 3. 
 
 St. Augustine replies to Prosper not in an 
 ordinary letter, but in two short Treatises, 
 which must have been written immediately 
 after its receipt, for he died in August 430, 
 the first entitled "De Prasdestinatione Sanc- 
 torum," the second " De Dono Perseverantiae." 
 The following extract is from the latter: 
 " Attendant ergo quomodo falluntur qui pu- 
 tant Esse a nobis, non dari nobis, ut petamus, 
 quceramus, pulsemus. Et hoc esse, dicunt, 
 quod gratia praeceditur merito nostro, ut 
 sequatur ilia cum aceipimus petentes, et inveni- 
 mus quczrentes, aperiturque pulsantibus. Nee 
 volunt intelligere etiam hoc divini muneris 
 esse ut oremus, hoc est, petamus, qutzramus, 
 atque pulsamus. " — De Dono Persev. c. 23, § 64. 
 
 Vincentius's language is in keeping with that of others of St. Augustine's opponents, as 
 Cassian and Faustus, extracts from whom are given by Noris; only, as he observes, while 
 Vincentius uses the term "heresy" of the doctrine impugned, — they are content to use 
 the milder term "error." — Histor. Pelag. p. 246. 
 
 1 Inter Epistolas S. August. Ep. 225. Tom. ii. and again Tom. x. col. 1327. ' Opera ix. col. 1S33. 
 
 158 
 
APPENDIX III. 
 
 Note on Section 85, Page 156. 
 
 Celestine's letter was addressed to certain Bishops of Southern Gaul, who are particular- 
 ized by name. 
 
 It appears that Prosper and Hilary had made a journey to Rome, where they then were, 
 for the purpose of complaining to Celestine of the connivance of certain bishops of South- 
 ern Gaul with the unsound teaching of their clergy. They complained too of the disre- 
 spectful manner in which these same clergy treated the memory of Augustine, then recently 
 deceased. 
 
 Celestine writes to these bishops: blames their connivance with a fault, which, says he, 
 by their silence they make their own, and then proceeds to charge them, as in the passage 
 quoted in the text, "Rebuke these people: restrain their liberty of preaching. If the case 
 be so, let novelty cease to assail antiquity, let restlessness cease to disturb the Church's 
 peace." Then, after some further exhortation, he adds, "We cannot wonder at their thus 
 assailing the living, when they do not shrink from seeking to asperse the memory of the 
 departed. With Augustine, whom all men everywhere loved and honoured, we ever held 
 communion. Let a stop be put to this spirit of disparagement, which unhappily is on the 
 increase." 
 
 The manner in which Vincentius deals with this letter has been very commonly thought, 
 and with reason, to indicate a Semipelagian leaning. 1 His "si ita est," "if the case be 
 so," emphasized by being repeated again and again, quite in an excited manner, as we 
 should say, shows an evident wish to shift the charge of novelty from those against whom it 
 had been brought, and fix it upon the opposite party. "Who are the introducers of novelty? 
 The Massilians, as Prosper represents them, or their calumniators? Not the Massilians: 
 they notoriously appeal to antiquity, — not the Massilians, but Prosper and the rest of 
 Augustine's followers." 
 
 The feeling with regard to Augustine, on the part of the Massilian clergy, as indicated 
 in Celestine's letter, is quite in accordance with the animus of § 69 above. See the note 
 on that place, and see Noris's remarks, pp. 246-248. 
 
 1 E' g. " Hunc locum Vincentius Lirinensis sic a vero sensu contra Prosperum et Hilarium detorquet, ut ipse haud injuria in erroris 
 Semipelagiani suspicionem veniat." The Benedictine editor of St. Augustine's works on Celestine's letter, Tom. x. col. 2403. To the 
 same purpose, among others, Card. Norris, Histor. Pelag., 246. Vossius, Histor. Pelag. Tillemont, T. xv. pp. 145, 862. 
 Neander, Church History, iv. p. 388. 
 
 159 
 
THE WORKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 TRANSLATED, 
 
 WITH PROLEGOMENA, PREFACES, AND NOTES, 
 
 REV. EDGAR C. S. GIBSON, M.A., 
 
 PRINCIPAL OF THE THEOLOGICAL COLLEGE, WELLS, SOMERSET. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF THE CCENOBIA. 
 BOOK I. 
 
 OF THE DRESS OF THE MONKS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chapter I. — Of the monk's girdle 201 
 
 Chapter II. — Of the monk's robe 202 
 
 Chapter III. — Of the hoods of the Egyptians 202 
 
 Chapter IV. — Of the tunics of the Egyptians 203 
 
 Chapter V. — Of their cords 203 
 
 Chapter VI. — Of their capes 203 
 
 Chapter VII. — Of the sheepskin and the goatskin 203 
 
 Chapter VIII. — Of the staff of the Egyptians 203 
 
 Chapter IX. — Of their shoes 204 
 
 Chapter X. — Of the modification in the observances which may be permitted in accordance with the char- 
 acter of the climate or the custom of the district 204 
 
 Chapter XI. — Of the spiritual girdle and its mystical meaning 204 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 OF THE CANONICAL SYSTEM OF THE NOCTURNAL PRAYERS AND PSALMS. 
 
 Chapter I. — Of the canonical system of the nocturnal prayers and Psalms. 205 
 
 Chapter II. — Of the difference of the number of Psalms appointed to be sung in all the provinces 205 
 
 Chapter III. — Of the observance of one uniform rule throughout the whole of Egypt, and of the election 
 
 of those who are set over the brethren 205 
 
 Chapter IV. — How throughout the whole of Egypt and the Thebaid the number of Psalms is fixed at 
 
 twelve ' 206 
 
 Chapter V. — How the fact that the number of the Psalms was to be twelve was received from the teaching 
 
 of an angel 206 
 
 Chapter VI. — Of the custom of having twelve prayers 207 
 
 Chapter VII. — Of their method of praying 207 
 
 Chapter VIII. — Of the prayer which follows the Psalm 208 
 
 Chapter IX. — Of the characteristics of the prayer, the fuller treatment of which is reserved for the Con- 
 ferences of the Elders 208 
 
 Chapter X. — Of the silence and conciseness with which the Collects are offered up by the Egyptians 209 
 
 Chapter XI. — Of the system according to which the Psalms are said among the Egyptians 209 
 
 Chapter XII. — Of the reason why while one sings the Psalms the rest sit down during the service; and of 
 
 the zeal with which they afterwards prolong their vigils in their cells till daybreak 210 
 
 Chapter XIII. — The reason why they are not allowed to go to sleep after the night service 2IO 
 
 Chapter XIV. — Of the way in which they devote themselves in their cells equally to manual labour and to 
 
 prayer 211 
 
 Chapter XV. — Of the discreet rule by which every one must retire to his cell after the close of the prayers; 
 
 and of the rebuke to which any one who does otherwise is subject 211 
 
 Chapter XVI. — How no one is allowed to pray with one who has been suspended from prayer 211 
 
 Chapter XVII. — How he who rouses them for prayer ought to call them at the usual time 212 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — How they do not kneel from the evening of Saturday till the evening of Sunday 212 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 OF THE CANONICAL SYSTEM OF THE DAILY PRAYERS AND PSALMS. 
 
 Chapter I. — Of the services of the Third, Sixth, and Ninth hours, which are observed in the regions of 
 
 Syria 212 
 
 Chapter II. — How among the Egyptians they apply themselves all daylong to prayer and Psalms con- 
 tinually with the addition of work, without distinction of hours 212 
 
 163 
 
1 64 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chapter III. — How throughout all the East the services of Tierce, Sext and None are ended with only 
 three Psalms and prayers each; and the reasons why these spiritual offices are assigned more particularly 
 to those hours 213 
 
 Chapter IV. — How the Mattin Office was not appointed by an ancient tradition, but was started in our own 
 
 day for a definite reason 215 
 
 Chapter V. — How they ought not to go back to bed again after the Mattin prayers 215 
 
 Chapter VI. — How no change was made by the Elders in the ancient system of Psalms when the Mattin 
 
 office was instituted 216 
 
 Chapter VII. — How one who does not come to the daily prayer before the end of the first Psalm is not 
 allowed to enter the Oratory; but at Nocturns a late arrival up to the end of the second Psalm can be 
 overlooked 216 
 
 Chapter VIII. — Of the Vigil service which is celebrated on the evening preceding the Sabbath; of its 
 
 length, and the manner in which it is observed 216 
 
 Chapter IX. — The reason why a vigil is appointed as the Sabbath day dawns, and why a dispensation from 
 
 fasting is enjoyed on the Sabbath all through the East 217 
 
 Chapter X. — How it was brought about that they fast on the Sabbath in the city 218 
 
 Chapter XI. — Of the points in which the service held on Sunday differs from what is customary on other days 
 
 Chapter XII. — Of the days on which, when supper is provided for the brethren, a Psalm is not said as they 
 
 assemble for the meal, as is usual at dinner 218 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 OF THE INSTITUTES OF THE RENUNCIANTS. 
 
 Chapter I. — Of the training of those who renounce this world, and of the way in which those are taught 
 
 among the monks of Tabenna and the Egyptians who are received into the monasteries 219 
 
 Chapter II. — Of the way in which among them men remain in the monasteries even to extreme old age. • •• 219 
 
 Chapter III. — Of the ordeal by which one who is to be received in the monastery is tested 219 
 
 Chapter IV. — The reason why those who are received in the monastery are not allowed to bring anything in 
 
 with them 219 
 
 Chapter V. — The reason why those who give up the world, when they are received in the monasteries, must 
 
 lay aside their own clothes and be clothed in others by the Abbot 220 
 
 Chapter VI. — The reason why the clothes of the renunciants with which they joined the monastery are pre- 
 served by the steward 220 
 
 Chapter VII. — The reason why those who are admitted to a monastery are not permitted to mix at once with 
 
 the congregation of the brethren, but are first committed to the guest house 220 
 
 Chapter VIII. — Of the practices in which the juniors are first exercised that they may become proficient in 
 
 overcoming all their desires 221 
 
 Chapter IX. — The reason why the juniors are enjoined not to keep back any of their thoughts from the 
 
 seniors 221 
 
 Chapter X. — How thorough is the obedience of the juniors even in those things which are matters of 
 
 common necessity 221 
 
 Chapter XI. — The kind of food which is considered the greatest delicacy among them. 222 
 
 Chapter XII. — How they leave off every kind of work at the sound of some one knocking at the door, in 
 
 their eagerness to answer at once 222 
 
 Chapter XIII. — How wrong it is considered for any one to say that anything, however trifling, is his own. 222 
 Chapter XIV. — How, even if a large sum of money is amassed by the labour of each, still no one may ven- 
 ture to exceed the moderate limit of what is appointed as adequate 222 
 
 Chapter XV. — Of the excessive desire of possession among us 223 
 
 Chapter XVI. — Of the rules for various rebukes 223 
 
 Chapter XVII. — Of those who introduced the plan that the holy Lessons should be read in the Ccenobia 
 
 while the brethren are eating, and of the strict silence which is kept among the Egyptians 224 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — How it is against the rule for anyone to take anything to eat or drink except at the 
 
 common table 224 
 
 Chapter XIX. — How throughout Palestine and Mesopotamia a daily service is undertaken by the brethren.. 224 
 
 Chapter XX. — Of the three lentil beans which the steward found 225 
 
 Chapter XXI. — Of the spontaneous service of some of the brethren 225 
 
 Chapter XXII. — Of the system of the Egyptians, which is appointed for the daily exercise of the brethren. 226 
 Chapter XXIII. — Of the obedience of Abbot John by which he was exalted even to the grace of prophecy. 226 
 Chapter XXIV. — Of the dry stick which, at the bidding of his senior, Abbot John kept on watering as if it 
 
 would grow 226 
 
 Chapter XXV. — Of the unique vase of oil thrown away by Abbot John at his senior's command 227 
 
 Chapter XXVI. — How Abbot John obeyed his senior by trying to roll a huge stone, which a large number 
 
 of men were unable to move 227 
 
 Chapter XXVII. — Of the humility and obedience of Abbot Patermucius, which he did not hesitate to make 
 
 perfect by throwing his little boy into the river at the command of his senior. 227 
 
 Chapter XXVIII. — How it was revealed to the Abbot concerning Patermucius, that he had done the deed 
 
 of Abraham; and how when the same Abbot died, Patermucius succeeded to the charge of the monastery. 228 
 
CONTENTS. 165 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chapter XXIX. — Of the obedience of a brother who, at the Abbot's bidding, carried about in public ten 
 
 baskets and sold them by retail 228 
 
 Chapter XXX. — Of the humility of Abbot Pinufius, who left a very famous Ccenobium over which he pre- 
 sided as Presbyter, and out of the love of subjection, sought a distant monastery where he could be received 
 as a novice 228 
 
 Chapter XXXI. — How when Abbot Pinufius was brought back to his monastery he stayed there for a 
 
 little while, and then fled again into the regions of Syrian Palestine 229 
 
 Chapter XXXII. — The charge which the same Abbot Pinufius gave to a brother whom he admitted into 
 
 his monastery in our presence 230 
 
 Chapter XXXIII. — How it is that, just as a great reward is due to the monk who labours according to 
 the regulations of the fathers, so likewise punishment must be inflicted on an idle one; and therefore 
 no one should be admitted into a monastery too easily 230 
 
 Chapter XXXIV. — Of the way in which our renunciation is nothing but mortification and the image of the 
 
 Crucified 230 
 
 Chapter XXXV. — How the fear of the Lord is our Cross 230 
 
 Chapter XXXVI. — How our renunciation of the world is of no use if we are again entangled in those 
 
 things which we have renounced .231 
 
 Chapter XXXVII. — How the devil always lies in wait for our end, and how we ought continually to 
 
 watch his head 23 1 
 
 Chapter XXXVIII. — Of the renunciant's preparation against temptation, and of the few who are worthy 
 
 of imitation 231 
 
 Chapter XXXIX. — Of the way in which we should mount towards perfection, whereby we may afterwards 
 
 ascend from the fear of God up to love 232 
 
 Chapter XL. — That the monks should seek for examples of perfection not from many instances, but from 
 
 one or a very few 232 
 
 Chapter XLI. — The appearance of what infirmities one who lives in a Ccenobium ought to exhibit 232 
 
 Chapter XLII. — How a monk should not look for the blessing of patience in his own case as a result of 
 
 the virtue of others, but rather as a consequence of his own long suffering 233 
 
 Chapter XLIII. — Recapitulation of the explanation how a monk can mount up towards perfection 233 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 OF THE SPIRIT OF GLUTTONY. 
 
 Chapter I. — The transition from the Institutes of the monks to the struggle against the eight principal 
 
 faults 233 
 
 Chapter II. — How the occasions of these faults, being found in everybody, are ignored by everybody; and 
 
 how we need the Lord's help to make them plain 234 
 
 Chapter III. — How our first struggle must be against the spirit of gluttony; i.e., the pleasures of the 
 
 palate 234 
 
 Chapter IV. —The testimony of Abbot Antony in which he teaches that each virtue ought to be sought for 
 
 from him who possesses it in a special degree 234 
 
 Chapter V. — How that one and the same rule of fasting cannot be observed by everybody 235 
 
 Chapter VI. — That the mind is not intoxicated by wine alone. 235 
 
 Chapter VII . — How bodily weakness need not interfere with purity of heart 236 
 
 Chapter VIII. — How food should be taken with regard to the aim of perfect continence 236 
 
 Chapter IX. — Of the measure of the chastisement to be undertaken, and the remedy of fasting 236 
 
 Chapter X. — That abstinence from food is not of itself sufficient for preservation of bodily and mental 
 
 purity 237 
 
 Chapter XL — That bodily lusts are not extinguished except by the entire rooting out of vices 237 
 
 Chapter XII. — That in our spiritual contest we ought to draw an example from the carnal contests 237 
 
 Chapter XIII. — That we cannot enter the battle of the inner man unless we have been set free from the 
 
 vice of gluttony 238 
 
 Chapter XIV. — How gluttonous desires can be overcome 238 
 
 Chapter XV. — How a monk must always be eager to preserve his purity of heart 239 
 
 Chapter XVI. — How, after the fashion of the Olympian games, a monk should not attempt spiritual 
 
 conflicts unless he has won battles over the flesh 239 
 
 Chapter XVII. — That the foundation and basis of the spiritual combat must be laid in the struggle against 
 
 gluttony 239 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — Of the number of different conflicts and victories through which the blessed apostles 
 
 ascended to the crown of the highest combat 240 
 
 Chapter XIX. ■ — That the athlete of Christ, so long as he is in the body, is never without a battle 240 
 
 Chapter XX. — How a monk should not overstep the proper hours for taking food, if he wants to proceed 
 
 to the struggle of interior conflicts 24 1 
 
 Chapter XXI. — Of the inward peace of a monk, and of spiritual abstinence 241 
 
 Chapter XXII. — That we should for this reason practise bodily abstinence, that we may by this fasting 
 
 attain to purity of heart 242 
 
 Chapter XXIII. — What should be the character of the monk's food 242 
 
166 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chapter XXIV. — How in Egypt we saw that the daily fast was broken without scruple on an arrival 242 
 
 Chapter XXV. — Of the abstinence of one old man, who took food six times so sparingly that he was still 
 
 hungry • • • 243 
 
 Chapter XXVI. — Of another old man, who never partook of food alone in his cell 243 
 
 Chapter XXVII. — What the two Abbots, Pcesius and John, said of the fruits of their zeal 243 
 
 Chapter XXVIII. — The Lessons and example which Abbot John when dying left to his disciples 243 
 
 Chapter XXIX. — Of Abbot Machetes, who never slept during the spiritual conferences, but always went 
 
 to sleep during earthly tales 243 
 
 Chapter XXX. — A saying of the same old man about not judging any one 244 
 
 Chapter XXXI. — The same old man's rebuke when he saw how the brethren went to sleep during the 
 
 spiritual conferences, and woke up when some idle story was told 244 
 
 Chapter XXXII. — Of the letters which were burnt without being read 244 
 
 Chapter XXXIII. — Of the solution of a question which Abbot Theodore obtained by prayer 245 
 
 Chapter XXXIV. — Of the saying of the same old man through which he taught by what efforts a monk 
 
 can acquire a knowledge of the Scriptures 245 
 
 Chapter XXXV. — A rebuke of the same old man, when he had come to my cell in the middle of the 
 
 night 245 
 
 Chapter XXXVI. — A description of the desert in Diolcos, where the Anchorites live 246 
 
 Chapter XXXVII. — Of the cells which Abbot Archebius gave up to us with their furniture 246 
 
 Chapter XXXVIII. — The same Archebius paid a debt of his mother's by the labours of his own hands 246 
 
 Chapter XXXIX. — Of the device of a certain old man by which some work was found for Abbot Simeon, 
 
 when he had nothing to do 247 
 
 Chapter XL. — Of the boys, who, when bringing to a sick man some figs, died in the desert from hunger, 
 
 without having tasted them 247 
 
 Chapter XLI. — The saying of the Abbot Macarius of the behaviour of a monk, as one who was to live for a 
 
 long while, and as one who was daily at the point of death 248 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 ON the spirit of fornication. 1 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 OF the spirit of covetousness. 
 
 Chapter I. — How our warfare with covetousness is a foreign one, and how this fault is not a natural one in 
 
 man, as the other faults are 248 
 
 Chapter II. — How dangerous is the disease of covetousness 248 
 
 Chapter III. — What is the usefulness of those vices which are natural to us 249 
 
 Chapter IV. — That we can say that there exist in us some natural faults without wronging the Creator. . • . 249 
 
 Chapter V. — Of the faults which are contracted through our own fault, without natural impulses 249 
 
 Chapter VI. — How difficult the evil of covetousness is to drive away when once it has been admitted 249 
 
 Chapter VII. — Of the source from which covetousness springs, and of the evils of which it is itself the 
 
 mother 250 
 
 Chapter VIII. — How covetousness is a hindrance to all virtues 250 
 
 Chapter IX. — How a monk who has money cannot stay in the monastery 251 
 
 Chapter X. — Of the toils which a deserter from a monastery must undergo through covetousness, though he 
 
 used formerly to murmur at the very slightest tasks 25 1 
 
 Chapter XL — That, under pretence of keeping the purse, women have to be sought to dwell with them. .. 251 
 
 Chapter XII. — An instance of a lukewarm monk caught in the snares of covetousness 251 
 
 Chapter XIII. — What the elders relate to the juniors in the matter of stripping off sins 252 
 
 Chapter XIV. — Instances to show that the disease of covetousness is threefold 252 
 
 Chapter XV. — Of the difference between one who renounces the world badly, and one who does not 
 
 renounce it at all 252 
 
 Chapter XVI. — Of the authority under which those shelter themselves, who object to stripping themselves 
 
 of their goods 253 
 
 Chapter XVII. — Of the renunciation of Apostles and the primitive Church 253 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — That if we want to imitate the Apostles we ought not to live according to our own pre- 
 scriptions, but to follow their examples ° 254 
 
 Chapter XIX. — A saying of S. Basil, the Bishop, directed against Syncletius 254 
 
 Chapter XX. — How contemptible it is to be overcome by covetousness 254 
 
 Chapter XXI. — How covetousness can be conquered 255 
 
 1 Omitted in the translation. 
 
CONTENTS. 167 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chapter XXII. — That one who actually has no money may still be deemed covetous 255 
 
 Chapter XXIII. — An example drawn from the case of Judas 255 
 
 Chapter XXIV. — That covetousness cannot be overcome except by stripping one's self of everything 255 
 
 Chapter XXV. — Of the deaths of Ananias and Sapphira and of Judas, which they underwent, through the 
 
 impulse of covetousness 256 
 
 Chapter XXVI. — That covetousness brings upon the soul a spiritual leprosy 256 
 
 Chapter XXVII. — Scripture proofs by which one who is aiming at perfection is taught not to take back 
 
 again what he has given up and renounced 256 
 
 Chapter XXVIII. — That the victory over covetousness can only be gained by stripping one's self bare of 
 
 everything 256 
 
 Chapter XXIX. — How a monk can retain his poverty 256 
 
 Chapter XXX. — The remedies against the disease of covetousness 257 
 
 Chapter XXXI. — That no one can get the better of covetousness unless he stays in the Ccenobium; and 
 
 how one can remain there 257 
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 
 OF THE SPIRIT OF ANGER. 
 
 Chapter I. — How our fourth conflict is against the sin of anger, and how many evils this passion produces. 257 
 Chapter II. — Of those who say that anger is not injurious, if we are angry with those who do wrong, since 
 
 God Himself is said to be angry 258 
 
 Chapter III. — Of those things which are spoken of God anthropomorphically 258 
 
 Chapter IV. — In what sense we should understand the Passion and human parts which are ascribed to the 
 
 unchanging and incorporeal God 258 
 
 Chapter V. — How calm a monk ought to be ■ 259 
 
 Chapter VI. — Of the righteous and unrighteous passion of wrath 259 
 
 Chapter VII. — Of the only case in which anger is useful to us 259 
 
 Chapter VIII. — Instances from the life of the blessed David in which anger was rightly felt 259 
 
 Chapter IX. — Of the anger which should be directed against ourselves 260 
 
 Chapter X. — Of the sun, of which it is said that it should not go down upon your wrath 260 
 
 Chapter XI. — Of those, to whose wrath even the going down of the sun sets no limit 260 
 
 Chapter XII. — How this is one end of temper and anger when a man carries it into action as far as he 
 
 can 261 
 
 Chapter XIII. — That we should not retain our anger even for an instant 261 
 
 Chapter XIV. — Of reconciliation with our brother 261 
 
 Chapter XV. — How the old Law would root out anger, not only from the actions, but from the thoughts •• 261 
 
 Chapter XVI. — How useless is the retirement of those who do not give up their bad manners 262 
 
 Chapter XVII. — That the peace of our heart does not depend on another's will, but lies in our own 
 
 control 262 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — Of the zeal with which we should seek the desert, and of the things in which we make 
 
 progress there 262 
 
 Chapter XIX. — An illustration to help in forming an opinion on those who are only patient when they are 
 
 not tried by any one • 262 
 
 Chapter XX. — How anger should be banished according to the Gospel 263 
 
 Chapter XXI. — Whether we ought to admit the addition of " without a cause " in that which is written in 
 
 the Gospel " whoever is angry with his brother," etc 263 
 
 Chapter XXII. — The remedies by which we can root out anger from our hearts 263 
 
 BOOK IX. 
 
 OF THE SPIRIT OF DEJECTION. 
 
 Chapter I. — How our fifth combat is against the spirit of dejection, and of the harm which it inflicts upon 
 
 the soul 264 
 
 Chapter II. — Of the care with which the malady of dejection must be healed 264 
 
 Chapter III. — To what the soul may be compared, which is a prey to the attacks of dejection. 264 
 
 Chapter IV. — Whence and in what way dejection arises 265 
 
 Chapter V. — That disturbances are caused in us not by the faults of other people but by our own. 265 
 
 Chapter VI. — That no one comes to grief by a sudden fall, but is destroyed by falling through a long 
 
 course of carelessness 265 
 
 Chapter VII. — That we ought not to give up intercourse with our brethren in order to seek after perfection, 
 
 but should rather constantly cultivate the virtue of patience 265 
 
 Chapter VIII. — That if we have improved our character it is possible for us to get on with everybody 265 
 
 Chapter IX. — Of another sort of dejection which produces despair of salvation 265 
 
1 68 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chapter X. — Of the only thing in which dejection is useful to us 266 
 
 Chapter XI. — How we can decide what is useful, and the sorrow according to God, and what is devilish 
 
 and deadly 266 
 
 Chapter XII. — That except that wholesome sorrow, which springs up in three ways, all sorrow and dejec- 
 tion should be resisted as hurtful 266 
 
 Chapter XIII. 1 — The means by which we can root out dejection from our hearts 266 
 
 BOOK X. 
 
 OF THE SPIRIT OF ACCIDIE. 
 
 Chapter I. — How our sixth combat is against the spirit of Accidie, and what its character is 266 
 
 Chapter II. — A description of Accidie, and the way in which it creeps over the heart of a monk, and the 
 
 injury it inflicts on the soul 267 
 
 Chapter III. — Of the different ways in which Accidie overcomes a monk 267 
 
 Chapter IV. — How Accidie hinders the mind from all contemplation of the virtues 267 
 
 Chapter V. — How the attack of Accidie is twofold 268 
 
 Chapter VI. — How injurious are the effects of Accidie 268 
 
 Chapter VII. — Testimonies from the apostle concerning the spirit of Accidie 268 
 
 Chapter VIII. — That he is sure to be restless who will not be content with the work of his own hands- • • • 269 
 Chapter IX. — That not the Apostle only, but those too who were with him, laboured with their own hands. 270 
 Chapter X. — That for this reason the Apostle laboured with his own hands that he might set us an example 
 
 of work 270 
 
 Chapter XI. — That he preached and taught men to work, not only by his example, but also by his words.. 270 
 
 Chapter XII. — Of his saying, " If any will not work neither shall he eat " 271 
 
 Chapter XIII. — Of his saying, " We have heard that some among you walk disorderly " 271 
 
 Chapter XIV. — How manual labour prevents many faults. 271 
 
 Chapter XV. — How kindness should be shown even to the idle and careless 271 
 
 Chapter XVI. — How we ought to admonish those who go wrong, not out of hatred, but out of love 272 
 
 Chapter XVII. — Different passages in which the Apostle declares that we ought to work, or in which it is 
 
 shown that he himself worked 272 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — That the Apostle wrought what he thought would be sufficient for him and for others 
 
 who were with him 272 
 
 Chapter XIX. — How we should understand these words: " It is more blessed to give than to receive." . . • 272 
 
 Chapter XX. — Of a lazy brother who tried to persuade others to leave the monastery 273 
 
 Chapter XXI. — Different passages from the writings of Solomon against Accidie 273 
 
 Chapter XXII. — How the brethren in Egypt work with their hands, not only to supply their own needs, 
 
 but also to minister to those who are in prison 274 
 
 Chapter XXIII. — That idleness is the reason why there are not monasteries for monks in the West 274 
 
 Chapter XXIV. — Of Abbot Paul, who every year burnt with fire all the works of his hands 274 
 
 Chapter XXV. — The words of Abbot Moses which he said to me about the cure of Accidie 275 
 
 BOOK XI. 
 
 OF THE SPIRIT OF VAIN-GLORY. 
 
 Chapter I. — How our seventh combat is against the spirit of vain-glory, and what its nature is 275 
 
 Chapter II. — How vain-glory attacks a monk, not only on his carnal, but also on his spiritual side 275 
 
 Chapter III. — How many forms and shapes vain-glory takes. 275 
 
 Chapter IV. —How vain-glory attacks a monk on the right hand and on the left. 276 
 
 Chapter V. — A comparison which shows the nature of vain-glory 276 
 
 Chapter VI. — That vain-glory is not altogether got rid of by the advantages of solitude 276 
 
 Chapter VII. — How vain-glory, when it has been overcome, rises again keener than ever for the fight 276 
 
 Chapter VIII. — How vain-glory is not allayed either in the desert or through advancing years 277 
 
 Chapter IX. — That vain-glory is the more dangerous through being mixed up with virtues. 277 
 
 Chapter X. — An instance showing how King Hezekiah was overtaken by the dart of vain-glory 277 
 
 Chapter XI. — The instance of King Uzziah, who was overcome by the taint of the same malady 277 
 
 Chapter XII. — Several testimonies against vain-glory 278 
 
 Chapter XIII. — Of the ways in which vain-glory attacks a monk • • 278 
 
 Chapter XIV. — How it suggests that a man may seek to take holy orders • 278 
 
 Chapter XV. — How vain-glory intoxicates the mind 278 
 
 Chapter XVI. — Of one whom the superior came upon, and found in his cell deluded by idle vain-glory. • • • 278 
 
 Chapter XVII. — How faults cannot be cured unless their roots and causes have been discovered 279 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — How a monk ought to avoid women and bishops 279 
 
 Chapter XIX. — Remedies by which we can overcome vain-glory 279 
 
CONTENTS. 169 
 
 BOOK XII. 
 
 OF THE SPIRIT OF PRIDE. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chapter I. — How our eighth combat is against the spirit of pride, and of its character 280 
 
 Chapter II. — How there are two kinds of pride 280 
 
 Chapter III. — How pride is equally destructive of all virtues 280 
 
 Chapter IV. — How by reason of pride Lucifer was turned from an archangel into a devil 280 
 
 Chapter V. — That incentives to all sins spring from pride 281 
 
 Chapter VI. — That the sin of pride is last in the actual order of the combat, but first in time and origin- .. 281 
 
 Chapter VII. — That the evil of pride is so great that it rightly has even God Himself as its adversary 281 
 
 Chapter VIII. — How God has destroyed the pride of the devil by the virtue of humility, and various 
 
 passages in proof of this 282 
 
 Chapter IX. — How we too may overcome pride 282 
 
 Chapter X. — How no one can obtain perfect virtue and the promised bliss by his own strength alone 282 
 
 Chapter XI. — The case of the thief and of David and of our call in order to illustrate the grace of God-. . . 283 
 
 Chapter XII. — That no evil is worthy to be compared with the promised bliss 283 
 
 Chapter XIII. — The teaching of the elders on the method of acquiring purity 283 
 
 Chapter XIV. — That the help of God is given to those who labour 283 
 
 Chapter XV. — From whom we can learn the way of perfection 284 
 
 Chapter XVI. — That we cannot even make the effort to obtain perfection without the mercy and inspiration 
 
 of God 284 
 
 Chapter XVII. — Various passages, which clearly show that we cannot do anything which belongs to our 
 
 salvation without the aid of God 284 
 
 Chapter XVIII, — How we are protected by the grace of God, not only in our natural condition, but also by 
 
 His Providence 285 
 
 Chapter XIX. — How this faith concerning the grace of God was delivered to us by the ancient Fathers. • . . 286 
 
 Chapter XX. — Of one who for his blasphemy was given over to a most unclean spirit 286 
 
 Chapter XXI. — The instance of Joash King of Judah, showing what was the consequence of his pride- • .. 286 
 
 Chapter XXII. — That every proud soul is subject to spiritual wickedness, to be deceived by it 287 
 
 Chapter XXIII. — How perfection can only be attained through the grace of humility 287 
 
 Chapter XXIV. ■ — Who are attacked by spiritual and who by carnal pride. 287 
 
 Chapter XXV. ■ — ■ A description of carnal pride, and of the evils which it produces in the soul of a monk. . . 287 
 
 Chapter XXVI. — That a man whose foundation is bad sinks daily from bad to worse 288 
 
 Chapter XXVII. — A description of the faults which spring from the evil of pride.' 288 
 
 Chapter XXVIII. — Of the pride of a certain brother 289 
 
 Chapter XXIX. — The signs by which you can recognize the presence of carnal pride in a soul 289 
 
 Chapter XXX. — How when a man has grown cold through pride, he wants to be put to rule over other 
 
 people 289 
 
 Chapter XXXI. — How we can overcome pride and attain perfection. 290 
 
 Chapter XXXII. — How pride which is so destructive of all virtues can itself be destroyed by true 
 
 humility 290 
 
 Chapter XXXIII. — Remedies against the evil of pride 290 
 
 THE FIRST PART OF THE CONFERENCES OF JOHN CASSIAN, CONTAINING CONFERENCES 
 
 I-X. PREFACE. 
 
 I. — First Conference of Abbot Moses; on the Goal or Aim of the Monk. 
 
 Chapter I. — Of our stay in Scete, and that which we proposed to Abbot Moses 295 
 
 Chapter II. — Of the question of Abbot Moses, who asked what was the goal and what the end of the 
 
 monk 295 
 
 Chapter III. — Of our reply 296 
 
 Chapter IV. — Of Abbot Moses' question on the aforesaid statement 296 
 
 Chapter V. — A comparison with a man who is trying to hit a mark 296 
 
 Chapter VI. — Of those who in renouncing the world, aim at perfection without love. 297 
 
 Chapter VII. — How peace of mind should be sought 297 
 
 Chapter VIII. — Of the main effort towards the contemplation of heavenly things, and an illustration from 
 
 the case of Martha and Mary 298 
 
 Chapter IX. — A question how it is that the practice of virtue cannot remain with a man 298 
 
 Chapter X. — The answer that not the reward, but the doing of the works will come to an end 299 
 
 Chapter XI. — Of the abiding character of love. 299 
 
 Chapter XII. — A question on perseverance in spiritual contemplation 300 
 
 Chapter XIII. — The answer concerning the direction of the heart 300 
 
 Chapter XIV. — Of the continuance of the soul 301 
 
 Chapter XV. — How we must meditate on God 302 
 
 Chapter XVI. — A question on the changing character of the thoughts 303 
 
170 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chapter XVII. — The answer what the mind can, and what it cannot do with regard to the state of its 
 
 thoughts 303 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — Comparison of a soul and a mill-stone 303 
 
 Chapter XIX. — Of the threefold origin of our thoughts 304 
 
 Chapter XX. — About discerning the thoughts, with an illustration from a good money changer 304 
 
 Chapter XXI. — Of the illusion of Abbot John 306 
 
 Chapter XXII. — Of the fourfold method of discrimination 306 
 
 Chapter XXIII. — Of the discourse of the teacher in regard to the merits of his hearers 306 
 
 II. — The Second Conference of Abbot Moses; on Discretion. 
 
 Chapter I. — Abbot Moses' introduction on the grace of discretion. 307 
 
 Chapter II. — What discretion alone can give a monk; and a discourse of the blessed Antony on this 
 
 subject 30S 
 
 Chapter III. — Of the error of Saul and of Ahab, by which they were deceived through lack of discretion.. 309 
 
 Chapter IV. — What is said of the value of discretion in Holy Scripture 309 
 
 Chapter V. — Of the death of the old man Heron 310 
 
 Chapter VI. — Of the destruction of two brethren for lack of discretion 310 
 
 Chapter VII. — Of an illusion into which another fell for lack of discretion 311 
 
 Chapter VIII. — Of the fall and deception of a monk of Mesopotamia 311 
 
 Chapter IX. — A question about the acquirement of discretion 311 
 
 Chapter X. — The answer how true discretion may be gained 311 
 
 Chapter XI. — The words of Abbot Serapion on the decline of thoughts that are exposed to others, and 
 
 also on the danger of self-confidence 312 
 
 Chapter XII. — A confession of the modesty which made us ashamed to reveal our thoughts to the elders... 313 
 Chapter XIII. — The answer concerning the trampling down of shame, and the danger of one without 
 
 contrition 313 
 
 Chapter XIV. — Of the call of Samuel 315 
 
 Chapter XV. — Of the call of the Apostle Paul 316 
 
 Chapter XVI. — How to seek for discretion 316 
 
 Chapter XVII. — On excessive fasts and vigils 316 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — A question on the right measure of abstinence and refreshment 316 
 
 Chapter XIX. — Of the best plan for our daily food 317 
 
 Chapter XX. — An objection, on the case of that abstinence, in which a man is sustained by two biscuits... 317 
 
 Chapter XXI. — The answer concerning the value and measure of well proved abstinence 317 
 
 Chapter XXII. — What is the usual limit both of abstinence, and of partaking food 317 
 
 Chapter XXIII. — Quemadmodum abundantia umorem genitalium castigetur 317 
 
 Chapter XXIV. — Of the difficulty of uniformity in eating, and of the gluttony of Brother Benjamin 317 
 
 Chapter XXV. — A question how it is possible always to observe one and the same measure 31S 
 
 Chapter XXVI. — The answer how we Should not exceed the proper measure of food 318 
 
 III. — Conference of Abbot Paphnutius ; on the Three Sorts of Renunciations. 
 
 Chapter I. — Of the life and conduct of Abbot Paphnutius 319 
 
 Chapter II. — Of the discourse of the same old man, and our reply to it 319 
 
 Chapter III. — The statement of Abbot Paphnutius on the three kinds of vocations, and the three sorts of 
 
 renunciations 320 
 
 Chapter IV. — An explanation of the three callings. 320 
 
 Chapter V. — How the first of these calls is of no use to a sluggard, and the last is no hindrance to one 
 
 who is in earnest 321 
 
 Chapter VI. — An account of the three sorts of renunciations 321 
 
 Chapter VII. — How we can attain perfection in each of these sorts of renunciations 322 
 
 Chapter VIII. — Of our very own possessions, in which the beauty of the soul is seen or its foulness 323 
 
 Chapter IX. — Of three sorts of possessions 324 
 
 Chapter X. — That no one can become perfect merely through the first grade of renunciation 324 
 
 Chapter XI — A question on the free-will of man and the grace of God 325 
 
 Chapter XII. — The answer on the economy of Divine grace with free-will still remaining in us 325 
 
 Chapter XIII. — That the ordering of our way comes from God 326 
 
 Chapter XIV. — That knowledge of the law is given by the guidance and illumination of the Lord 326 
 
 Chapter XV. — That the understanding, by means of which we can recognize God's commands and the 
 
 performance of a good will, are gifts from the Lord 326 
 
 Chapter XVI. — That faith itself must be given us by the Lord 327 
 
 Chapter XVII. — That temperateness and the endurance of temptations must be given us by the Lord 328 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — That the continual fear of God must be bestowed on us by the Lord 328 
 
 Chapter XIX. — That the beginning of our good-will and its completion come from God 328 
 
 Chapter XX. — That nothing can be done in this world without God 329 
 
 Chapter XXI. — An objection on the power of free-will 329 
 
 Chapter XXII. — The answer, viz., that our free-will always has need of the help of the Lord 329 
 
CONTENTS. 171 
 
 IV. — Conference of Abbot Daniel; on the Lust of the Flesh and of the Spirit. 
 
 PACE 
 
 Chapter I. — Of the life of Abbot Daniel 330 
 
 Chapter II. — An investigation of the origin of a sudden change of feeling from inexpressible joy to 
 
 extreme dejection of mind. ' 331 
 
 Chapter III. — His answer to the question raised 331 
 
 Chapter IV. — How there is a twofold reason for the permission and allowance of God 331 
 
 Chapter V. — How our efforts and exertions are of no use without God's help 331 
 
 Chapter VI. — How it is sometimes to our advantage to be left by God 332 
 
 Chapter VII. — Of the value of the conflicts which the Apostle makes to consist in the struggle between the 
 
 flesh and the spirit 332 
 
 Chapter VIII. — A question how it is that in the Apostle's chapter, after he has spoken of the lusts of the 
 
 flesh and spirit opposing one another, he adds a third thing, viz., man's will 333 
 
 Chapter IX. — The answer on the understanding of one who asks rightly 333 
 
 Chapter X. — That the word " flesh " is not used with one single meaning only 333 
 
 Chapter XI. — What the Apostle means by flesh in this passage; and what the lust of the flesh is 333 
 
 Chapter XII. — What is our free-will which stands in between the lust of the flesh and the spirit 334 
 
 Chapter XIII. — Of the advantage of the delay which results from the struggle between the flesh and spirit. 335 
 
 Chapter XIV. — Of the incurable depravity of spiritual wickedness 335 
 
 Chapter XV. — Of the value of the lust of the flesh against the spirit in our case.. 336 
 
 Chapter XVI. — Of the excitement of the flesh, without the humiliation of which we should fall more 
 
 grievously 336 
 
 Chapter XVII. — Of the lukewarmness of eunuchs 336 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — The question what is the difference between the carnal and natural man 336 
 
 Chapter XIX. — ■ Answer concerning the threefold condition of souls 336 
 
 Chapter XX. — ■ Of those who renounce the world but ill 338 
 
 Chapter XXI. — Of those who having made light of great things busy themselves about trifles 338 
 
 V. — Conference of Abbot Serapion; on the Eight Principal Faults. 
 
 Chapter I. — Our arrival at Abbot Serapion's cell, and inquiry on the different kinds of faults, and the way 
 
 to overcome them ' , 339 
 
 Chapter II. — Abbot Serapion's enumeration of the eight principal faults 339 
 
 Chapter III. — Of the two classes of faults, and their fourfold manner of acting upon us 339 
 
 Chapter IV. — A review of the passions of gluttony and fornication, and their remedies 339 
 
 Chapter V. — How our Lord alone was tempted without sin 340 
 
 Chapter VI. — Of the manner of the temptation in which our Lord was attacked by the devil 341 
 
 Chapter VII. — How vain-glory and pride can be consummated without any assistance from the body 342 
 
 Chapter VIII. — Of covetousness, which is something outside our nature, and of the difference between it 
 
 and those faults which are natural to us 342 
 
 Chapter IX. — How dejection and Accidie generally arise without any external provocation, as in the case 
 
 of other faults 342 
 
 Chapter X. — How six of these faults are related, and the two which differ from them are akin to one 
 
 another 343 
 
 Chapter XI. — Of the origin and character of each of these faults 343 
 
 Chapter XII. — How vain-glory may be useful to us 344 
 
 Chapter XIII. — Of the different ways in which all these faults assault us 345 
 
 Chapter XIV. — Of the struggle into which we must enter against our faults when they attack us 345 
 
 Chapter XV. — How we can do nothing against our faults without the help of God, and how we should not 
 
 be puffed up by victories over them . . .' 346 
 
 Chapter XVI. — Of the meaning of the seven nations of whose lands Israel took possession, and the reason 
 
 why they are sometimes spoken of as " seven " and sometimes as " many " 347 
 
 Chapter XVII. — A question with regard to the comparison of seven nations with eight faults 348 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — The answer how the number of eight nations is made up in accordance with the eight 
 
 faults 348 
 
 Chapter XIX. — The reason why one nation is to be forsaken, while seven are commanded to be destroyed. 348 
 
 Chapter XX. — Of the nature of gluttony, which may be illustrated by the simile of the eagle 349 
 
 Chapter XXI. — Of the lasting character of gluttony as upheld against some philosophers 349 
 
 Chapter XXII. — How it was that God foretold to Abraham that Israel would have to drive out ten nations. 349 
 
 Chapter XXIII. — How it is useful for us to take possession of their lands 349 
 
 Chapter XXIV. — How the lands from which the Canaanites were expelled had been assigned to the seed of 
 
 Shem 350 
 
 Chapter XXV. — Different passages of Scripture on the meaning of the eight faults 350 
 
 Chapter XXVI. — How, when we have got the better of the passion of gluttony, we must take pains to gain 
 
 all the other virtues 350 
 
 Chapter XXVII. — That our battles are not fought with our faults in the same order as that in which they 
 
 stand in the list 351 
 
172 CONTENTS. 
 
 VI. — Conference of Abbot Theodore; on the Death of the Saints. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chapter I. —Description of the wilderness, and the question about the death of the saints 351 
 
 Chapter II. — Abbot Theodore's answer to the question proposed to him 352 
 
 Chapter III. — Of the three kinds of things that there are in the world, viz., good, bad, and indifferent.. . . 352 
 
 Chapter IV. ■ — How evil cannot be forced on any one by another against his will 353 
 
 Chapter V. — An objection, how God Himself can be said to create evil 354 
 
 Chapter VI. — The answer to the question proposed 354 
 
 Chapter VII. — A question whether the man who causes the death of a good man is guilty, if the gopd man 
 
 is the gainer by his death. 354 
 
 Chapter VIII. — The answer to the foregoing question 355 
 
 Chapter IX. — The case of Job who was tempted by the devil, and of the Lord who was betrayed by Judas, 
 
 and how prosperity as well as adversity is advantageous to a good man 355 
 
 Chapter X. — Of the excellence of the perfect man who is figuratively spoken of as ambidextrous 356 
 
 Chapter XI. — Of the two kinds of trials which come upon us in a threefold way 357 
 
 Chapter XII. — How the upright man ought to be like a stamp, not of wax, but of hard steel 359 
 
 Chapter XIII. — A question whether the man can constantly continue in one and the same condition 359 
 
 Chapter XIV. — The answer to the points raised by the questioner 359 
 
 Chapter XV. — How one loses by going away from one's cell 360 
 
 Chapter XVI. — How even celestial powers above are capable of change 360 
 
 Chapter XVII. — That no one is dashed to the ground by a sudden fall 361 
 
 VII. — First Conference of Abbot Serenus ; on Inconstancy of Mind and Spiritual Wickedness. 
 
 Chapter I. — Of the chastity of Abbot Serenus 361 
 
 Chapter II. — The question of the aforesaid old man on the state of our thoughts 361 
 
 Chapter III. — Our answer on the fickle character of our thoughts 362 
 
 Chapter fV. — The discourse of the old man on the state of the soul and its excellence 363 
 
 Chapter V. ■ — Of the perfection of the soul, as drawn from the comparison of the centurion in the Gospel.. 363 
 
 Chapter VI. — Of perseverance as regards care of the thoughts 365 
 
 Chapter VII. — A question on the roving tendency of the mind, and the attacks of spiritual wickedness... 365 
 
 Chapter VIII. — The answer on the help of God and the power of free-will 365 
 
 Chapter IX. — A question on the union of the soul with devils 366 
 
 Chapter X. — The answer how unclean spirits are united with human souls 366 
 
 Chapter XI. — An objection whether unclean spirits can be present in or united with the souls of those 
 
 whom they have filled ' 366 
 
 Chapter XII. — The answer how it is that unclean spirits can lord it over the possessed 366 
 
 Chapter XIII. — How spirits cannot be penetrated by spirits, and how God alone is incorporeal 366 
 
 Chapter XIV. — An objection as to how we ought to believe that devils see into the thoughts of men 367 
 
 Chapter XV. ■ — The answer, what devils can, and what they cannot do, in regard to the thoughts of men. . . 367 
 
 Chapter XVI. — An illustration showing how we are taught that unclean spirits know the thoughts of men.. 367 
 
 Chapter XVII. — Of the fact that not every devil has the power of suggesting every passion to men 368 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — A question whether among the devils there is any order observed in the attack, or system 
 
 in its changes 368 
 
 Chapter XIX. — The answer, how far an agreement exists among devils about the attack and its changes. •• 368 
 Chapter XX. — Of the fact that opposite powers are not of the same boldness, and that the occasions of 
 
 temptation are not under their own control 36S 
 
 Chapter XXI. — Of the fact that devils struggle with men not without effort on their part 369 
 
 Chapter XXII. — Of the fact that the power to hurt does not depend upon the will of the devils 370 
 
 Chapter XXIII. — Of the diminished power of the devils 370 
 
 Chapter XXIV. — Of the way in which the devils prepare for themselves an entrance into the bodies of 
 
 those whom they are going to possess 371 
 
 Chapter XXV. — Of the fact that those men are more wretched who are possessed by sins than those who 
 
 are possessed by devils 371 
 
 Chapter XXVI. — Of the death of the prophet who was led astray, and of the infirmity of the Abbot Paul, 
 
 with which he was visited for the sake of his cleansing 371 
 
 Chapter XXVII. — Of the temptation of Abbot Moses 372 
 
 Chapter XXVIII. — How we ought not to despise those who are delivered up to unclean spirits 372 
 
 Chapter XXIX. — An objection, asking why those who are tormented by unclean spirits are separated from 
 
 the Lord's communion 372 
 
 Chapter XXX. — The answer to the question raised 373 
 
 Chapter XXXI. — Of the fact that those men are more to be pitied to whom it is not given to be subjected 
 
 to those temporal temptations 373 
 
 Chapter XXXII. — Of the different desires and wishes which exist in the powers of the air 374 
 
 Chapter XXXIII. — A question as to the origin of such differences in powers of evil in the sky 374 
 
 Chapter XXXIV. — The postponement of the answer to the question raised 375 
 
CONTENTS. 173 
 
 VIII. — The Second Conference of Abbot Serenus; on Principalities. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chapter I. — Of the hospitality of Abbot Serenus 375 
 
 Chapter II. — A question propounded on the different kinds of spiritual wickedness 375 
 
 Chapter III. — The answer on the many kinds of food provided in Holy Scripture 376 
 
 Chapter IV. —Of the double sense in which Holy Scripture may be taken 377 
 
 Chapter V. — Of the fact that the question suggested ought to be included among those things to be held in 
 
 a neutral or doubtful way 377 
 
 Chapter VI. — Of the fact that nothing is created evil by God 377 
 
 Chapter VII. — Of the origin of principalities or powers 377 
 
 Chapter VIII. — Of the fall of the devil and the angels 378 
 
 Chapter IX. — An objection stating that the fall of the devil took its origin from the deception of Eve.. -. 378 
 
 Chapter X. ■ — The answer about the beginning of the devil's fall 378 
 
 Chapter XL — The punishment of the deceiver and the deceived 379 
 
 Chapter XII. — Of the crowd of the devils, and the disturbance which they always raise in our 
 
 atmosphere 3 79 
 
 Chapter XIII. — Of the fact that opposing powers turn the attack which they aim at men, even against each 
 
 other 380 
 
 Chapter XIV. — How it is that spiritual wickedness obtained the names of powers or principalities 380 
 
 Chapter XV. — Of the fact that it is not without reason that the names of angels and archangels are given 
 
 to holy and heavenly powers 381 
 
 Chapter XVI. — Of the subjection of the devils, which they show to their own princes, as seen in a 
 
 brother's vision. 381 
 
 Chapter XVII.- — Of the fact that two angels always cling to every man 381 
 
 Chapter XVIII.— Of the degrees of wickedness which exist in hostile spirits, as shown in the case of two 
 
 philosophers 382 
 
 Chapter XIX. — Of the fact that devils cannot prevail at all against men unless they have first secured 
 
 possession of their minds ; 382 
 
 Chapter XX. — A question about the fallen angels who are said in Genesis to have had intercourse with* the 
 
 daughters of men 382 
 
 Chapter XXI. — The answer to the question raised 383 
 
 Chapter XXII. — An objection as to how an unlawful intermingling with the daughters of Cain could be 
 
 charged against the line of Seth before the prohibition of the law 384 
 
 Chapter XXIII. — The answer that by the law of nature men were from the beginning liable to judgment 
 
 and punishment 3S4 
 
 Chapter XXIV. — Of the fact that they were justly punished who sinned before the flood 385 
 
 Chapter XXV. — How this that is said of the devil in the Gospel is to be understood, viz., that " he is a liar 
 
 and his father " ■ 386 
 
 IX. — The First Conference of Abbot Isaac; on Prayer. 
 
 Chapter I. — Introduction to the Conference. 387 
 
 Chapter II. — The words of Abbot Isaac on the nature of prayer 387 
 
 Chapter III. — How pure and sincere prayer can be gained 388 
 
 Chapter IV. — Of the lightness of the soul which may be compared to a wing or feather 3^8 
 
 Chapter V. — Of the ways in which our soul is weighed down 388 
 
 Chapter VI. — Of the vision which a certain elder saw concerning the restless work of a brother 3^9 
 
 Chapter VII. - — ■ A question how it is that it is harder work to preserve than to originate good thoughts 390 
 
 Chapter VIII. — The answer on the different characters of prayer 390 
 
 Chapter IX. — Of the four kinds of prayer 391 
 
 Chapter X. — Of the order of the different kinds laid down with regard to the character of prayer 391 
 
 Chapter XI. — Of supplication 391 
 
 Chapter XII. —Of prayer 391 
 
 Chapter XIII. — Of intercession. 391 
 
 Chapter XIV. — Of thanksgiving. • 392 
 
 Chapter XV. — Whether these four kinds of prayers are necessary for every one to offer all at once or 
 
 separately and in turns. 392 
 
 Chapter XVI. — Of the kinds of prayer to which we ought to direct ourselves 392 
 
 Chapter XVII. — How the four kinds of supplication were originated by the Lord 393 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — Of the Lord's Prayer 393 
 
 Chapter XIX. — Of the clause "Thy kingdom come " 394 
 
 Chapter XX. — Of the clause "Thy will be done" 394 
 
 Chapter XXI. — Of our supersubstantial or daily bread 394 
 
 Chapter XXII. — Of the clause "Forgive us our debts, etc." 395 
 
 Chapter XXIII. — Of the clause ' ' Lead us not into temptation " 395 
 
 Chapter XXIV. — How we ought not to ask for other things, except only those which are contained in the 
 
 limits of the Lord's Prayer 396 
 
 Chapter XXV. — Of the character of the sublimer prayer 396 
 
 Chapter XXVI. — Of the different causes of conviction 396 
 
174 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Chapter XXVII. — Of the different sorts of conviction 396 
 
 Chapter XXVIII. — A question about the fact that a plentiful supply of tears is not in our own power 397 
 
 Chapter XXIX. — The answer on the varieties of conviction which spring from tears 397 
 
 Chapter XXX. — How tears ought not to be squeezed out, when they do not flow spontaneously 397 
 
 Chapter XXXI. — The opinion of Abbot Antony on the condition of prayer 398 
 
 Chapter XXXII. — Of the proof of prayer being heard 398 
 
 Chapter XXXIII. — An objection that the confidence of being heard as described belongs only to saints- . • 398 
 
 Chapter XXXIV. — The answer on the different reasons for prayer being heard 398 
 
 Chapter XXXV. — Of prayer to be. offered within the chamber and with the door shut 400 
 
 Chapter XXXVI. — Of the value of short and silent prayer 400 
 
 X. — The Second Conference of Abbot Isaac; on Prayer. 
 
 Chapter I. — Introduction 401 
 
 Chapter II. — Of the custom which is kept up in the Province of Egypt for signifying the time of Easter.. 401 
 Chapter III. — Of Abbot Serapion, and the heresy of the Anthropomorphites, into which he fell in the 
 
 error of simplicity. 402 
 
 Chapter IV. — Of our return to Abbot Isaac and question concerning the error into which the aforesaid old 
 
 man had fallen 402 
 
 Chapter V. — The answer on the origin of the heresy described above 403 
 
 Chapter VI. — Of the reasons why Jesus Christ appears to each one of us either in His humility or in His 
 
 glorified condition 403 
 
 Chapter VII. — What constitutes our end and perfect bliss 404 
 
 Chapter VIII. — A question on the training in perfection by which we can arrive at perpetual recollection 
 
 of God 404 
 
 Chapter IX. — The answer on the efficacy of understanding which is gained by experience 405 
 
 Chapter X. — Of the method of continual prayer 405 
 
 Chapter XL — Of the perfection of prayer, to which we can rise by the system described 407 
 
 Chapter XII. — A question as to how spiritual thoughts can be retained without losing them 408 
 
 Chapter XIII. — Of the lightness of thoughts 408 
 
 Chapter XIV. — The answer how we can gain stability of hearts or of thoughts 409 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF TPIE CONFERENCES OF JOHN CASSIAN, CONTAINING XI.- 
 
 XVII. PREFACE. 
 
 XI. — The First Conference of Abbot Chceremon; on Perfection. 
 
 Chapter I. — Description of the town of Thennesus 415 
 
 Chapter II. — Of Bishop Archebius 415 
 
 Chapter III. — Description of the desert where Chceremon, Nesteros, and Joseph lived 416 
 
 Chapter IV. — Of Abbot Chceremon and his- excuse about the teaching which we asked for 416 
 
 Chapter V. — Of our answer to his excuse 416 
 
 Chapter VI. — Abbot Chceremon's statements that faults can be overcome in three ways 416 
 
 Chapter VII. — By what steps we can ascend to the heights of love, and what permanence there is in it. ■ • . 417 
 
 Chapter VIII. — How greatly those excel who depart from sin through the feeling of love 418 
 
 Chapter IX. — That love not only makes sons out of servants, but also bestows the image and likeness of 
 
 God 41S 
 
 Chapter X. — How it is the perfection of love to pray for one's enemies, and by what signs we may recog- 
 nize a mind that is not yet purified 419 
 
 Chapter XI. — A question why he has called the feeling of fear and hope imperfect 419 
 
 Chapter XII. — The answer on the different kinds of perfection 420 
 
 Chapter XIII. — Of the fear which is the outcome of the greatest love 421 
 
 Chapter XIV. — A question about complete chastity 422 
 
 Chapter XV. — The postponement of the explanation which is asked for 422 
 
 XII. — The Second Conference of Abbot Chceremon; on Chastity. 1 
 
 XIII. — The Third Conference of Abbot Chceremon; on the Protection of God. 
 
 Chapter I. — Introduction 422 
 
 Chapter II. — A question why the merit of good deeds may not be ascribed to the exertions of the man 
 
 who does them 423 
 
 Chapter III. — The answer that without God*s help, not only perfect chastity, but good of every kind, 
 
 cannot be performed 423 
 
 1 Omitted in the translation. 
 
CONTENTS. 175 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chapter IV. — An objection, asking how the Gentiles can be said to have chastity without the grace of God, 424 
 
 Chapter V. — The answer on the imaginary chastity of the philosophers 424 
 
 Chapter VI. — That without the grace of God we cannot make any diligent efforts 424 
 
 Chapter VII. — Of the main purpose of God, and His daily providence 425 
 
 Chapter VIII. — Of the grace of God and the freedom of the will 426 
 
 Chapter IX. — Of the power of our good will, and the grace of God 426 
 
 Chapter X. — Of the weakness of free-will 427 
 
 Chapter XI. — Whether the grace of God precedes or follows our good will 427 
 
 Chapter XII. — That a good will should not always be attributed to grace, nor always to man himself 428 
 
 Chapter XIII. — How human efforts cannot be set against the grace of God 430 
 
 Chapter XIV. — How God makes trial of the strength of man's will by means of his temptations 430 
 
 Chapter XV. — Of the manifold grace of men's calls 432 
 
 Chapter XVI. — Of the grace of God, to the effect that it transcends the narrow limits of human faith .... 433 
 
 Chapter XVII. — Of the inscrutable providence of God 433 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — The decision of the Fathers that free-will is not equal to save a man 434 
 
 XIV. — The First Conference of Abbot Nesteros ; on Spiritual Knowledge. 
 
 Chapter I. — The words of Abbot Nesteros on the knowledge of the religious 435 
 
 Chapter II. — Of grasping the knowledge of spiritual things *. 435 
 
 Chapter III. — How practical perfection depends on a double system 435 
 
 Chapter IV. — How practical life is distributed among many different professions and interests 436 
 
 Chapter V. — Of perseverance in the line that has been chosen 436 
 
 Chapter VI. — How the weak are easily moved 436 
 
 Chapter VII. — An instance of chastity which teaches us that all men should not be emulous of all things.. 437 
 
 Chapter VIII. — Of spiritual knowledge 437 
 
 Chapter IX. — How from practical knowledge we must proceed to spiritual 438 
 
 Chapter X. — How to embrace the system of true knowledge 439 
 
 Chapter XI. — Of the manifold meaning of Holy Scripture 440 
 
 Chapter XII. — A question how we can attain to forgetfulness of the cares of this world 441 
 
 Chapter XIII. — Of the method by which we can remove the dross from our memory 441 
 
 Chapter XIV. — How an unclean soul can neither give nor receive spiritual knowledge 442 
 
 Chapter XV. — An objection owing to the fact that many impure persons have knowledge while saints have 
 
 not 442 
 
 Chapter XVI. — The answer to the effect that bad men cannot possess true knowledge 443 
 
 Chapter XVII. — To whom the method of perfection shall be laid open 444 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — Of the reasons for which spiritual learning is unfruitful.. 445 
 
 Chapter XIX. — How often even those who are not worthy can receive the grace of the saving word 445 
 
 XV. — The Second Conference of Abbot Nesteros; on Divine Gifts. 
 
 Chapter I. — Discourse of Abbot Nesteros on the threefold system of gifts 445 
 
 Chapter II. — Wherein one ought to admire the saints 446 
 
 Chapter III. — Of a dead man raised to life by Abbot Macarius 446 
 
 Chapter IV. — Of the miracle which Abbot Abraham wrought on the breasts of a woman 447 
 
 Chapter V. — Of the cure of a lame man which the same saint wrought 447 
 
 Chapter VI. — How the merits of each man should not be judged by his miracles 447 
 
 Chapter VII. — How the excellence of gifts consists, not in miracles, but in humility 448 
 
 Chapter VIII. — How it is more wonderful to have cast out one's faults from one's self than devils from 
 
 another 448 
 
 Chapter IX. — How uprightness of life is of more importance than the working of miracles 449 
 
 Chapter X. — A revelation on the trial of perfect chastity ■ 449 
 
 XVI. — The First Conference of Abbot Joseph; on Friendship. 
 
 Chapter I. — What Abbot Joseph asked us in the first instance 450 
 
 Chapter II. — Discourse of the same elder on the untrustworthy sort of friendship 450 
 
 Chapter III. — How friendship is indissoluble 450 
 
 Chapter IV. — A question whether anything that is really useful should be performed even against a 
 
 brother's wish 451 
 
 Chapter V. — The answer, how a lasting friendship can only exist among those who are perfect 451 
 
 Chapter VI. — By what means union can be preserved unbroken 45 1, 
 
 Chapter VII. — How nothing should be put before love or after anger 452 
 
 Chapter VIII. — On what grounds a dispute can arise among spiritual persons 453 
 
 Chapter IX. — How to get rid even of spiritual grounds of discord 453 
 
 Chapter X. — Of the best test of truth 453 
 
 Chapter XI. — How it is impossible for one who trusts to his own judgment to escape being deceived by the 
 
 devil's illusion 453 
 
176 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Chapter XII. - — Why inferiors should not be despised in conference 454 
 
 Chapter XIII. — How love does not only belong to God, but is God 454 
 
 Chapter XIV. — On the different grades of love 454 
 
 Chapter XV. — Of those who only increase their own or their brother's grievances by hiding them 455 
 
 Chapter XVI. — How it is that if our brother has any grudge against us, the gifts of our prayers are 
 
 rejected by the Lord 455 
 
 Chapter XVII. — Of those who hold that patience should be shown to worldly people rather than to the 
 
 brethren 455 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — Of those who pretend to patience, but excite their brethren to anger by their silence • • • • 456 
 
 Chapter XIX. — Of those who fast put of rage 457 
 
 Chapter XX. — Of the feigned patience of some who offer the other cheek to be smitten 457 
 
 Chapter XXI. — A question how if we obey the commands of Christ we can fail of evangelical perfection.. 457 
 
 Chapter XXII. — The answer that Christ looks not only at the action, but also at the will 457 
 
 Chapter XXIII. — How he is the strong and vigorous man, who yields to the will of another 458 
 
 Chapter XXIV. — How the weak are harmful and cannot bear wrongs 45S 
 
 Chapter XXV. — A question how he can be strong who does not always support the weak 458 
 
 Chapter XXVI. — The answer that the weak does not always allow himself to be borne 458 
 
 Chapter XXVII. — How anger should be repressed 459 
 
 Chapter XXVIII. — How friendships entered upon by conspiracy cannot be lasting ones 460 
 
 XVII. — The Second Conference of Abbot Joseph; on Making Promises. 
 
 Chapter I. — Of the vigils which we endured. 460 
 
 Chapter II. — Of the anxiety of Abbot Germanus at the recollection of our promise 460 
 
 Chrpter III. — My ideas on this subject 460 
 
 Chapter IV. — Abbot Joseph's question, and our answer on the origin of our anxiety 461 
 
 Chapter V. — The explanation of Abbot Germanus why we wanted to stay in Egypt, and were drawn back 
 
 to Syria 461 
 
 Chapter VI. — Abbot Joseph's question whether we got more good in Egypt than in Syria. 461 
 
 Chapter VII. — The answer on the difference of customs in the two countries 461 
 
 Chapter VIII. — How those who are perfect ought not to make any promises absolutely, and whether 
 
 decisions can be reversed without sin 462 
 
 Chapter IX. — How it is often better to break one's engagements than to fulfil them 462 
 
 Chapter X. — Our question about our fear of the oath which we gave in the monastery in Syria 462 
 
 Chapter XI. — The answer that we must take into account the purpose of the doer rather than the execution 
 
 of the business 463 
 
 Chapter XII. — How a fortunate issue will be of no avail to evil-doers, while bad deeds will not injure 
 
 good men 463 
 
 Chapter XIII. — Our answer as to the reason which demanded an oath from us 463 
 
 Chapter XIV. — The discourse of the elder, showing how the plan of action may be changed without fault 
 
 provided that one keeps to the carrying-out of a good intention 464 
 
 Chapter XV. —A question whether it can be without sin that our knowledge affords to weak brethren an 
 
 opportunity for lying 464 
 
 Chapter XVI. — The answer that Scripture truth is not to be altered on account of an offence given to the 
 
 weak 464 
 
 Chapter XVII. — How the saints have profitably employed a lie like hellebore 464 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — An objection that only those men employed lies with impunity who lived under the law.. 465 
 Chapter XIX. — The answer that leave to lie, which was not even granted under the old Covenant, has 
 
 rightly been taken by many 466 
 
 Chapter XX. — How even Apostles thought that a lie was often useful, and the truth injurious 467 
 
 Chapter XXI. — Whether secret abstinence ought to be made known, without telling a lie about it, to those 
 
 who ask, and whether what has once been declined may be taken in hand 468 
 
 Chapter XXII. — An objection that abstinence ought to be concealed, but that things that have been 
 
 declined should not be received 469 
 
 Chapter XXIII. — The answer that obstinacy in this decision is unreasonable - 469 
 
 Chapter XXIV. — How Abbot Piamun chose to hide his abstinence 469 
 
 Chapter XXV. — The evidence of Scripture on changes of determination 469 
 
 Chapter XXVI. — How saintly men cannot be hard and obstinate 472 
 
 Chapter XXVII. — A question whether the saying, "I have sworn and am purposed," is opposed to the 
 
 view given above 472 
 
 Chapter XXVIII. — The answer telling in what cases the determination is to be kept fixedly, and in what 
 
 cases it may be broken if need be 473 
 
 Chapter XXIX. — How we ought to do those things which are to be kept secret 473 
 
 Chapter XXX. — That no determination should be made on those things which concern the needs of the 
 
 common life 473 
 
CONTENTS. 177 
 
 THE THIRD PART OF THE CONFERENCES OF JOHN CASSIAN, CONTAINING XVIII.-XXIV. 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 XVIII. — Conference of Abbot Piamun; on the Three Sorts of Monks. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chapter I. — How we came to Diolcos and were received by Abbot Piamun 479 
 
 Chapter II. — The words of Abbot Piamun, how monks who were novices ought to be taught by the 
 
 example of their elders 479 
 
 Chapter III. — How the juniors ought not to discuss the orders of the seniors 480 
 
 Chapter IV. — Of the three sorts of monks which there are in Egypt 480 
 
 Chapter V. — Of the founders who originated the order of Ccenobites 480 
 
 Chapter VI. — Of the system of the Anchorites and its beginning 481 
 
 Chapter VII. — Of the origin of the Sarabaites, and their mode of life 482 
 
 Chapter VIII. — Of a fourth sort of monks 483 
 
 Chapter IX. — A question as to what is the difference between a Ccenobium and a monastery 483 
 
 Chapter X. — The answer 483 
 
 Chapter XI. — Of true humility; and how Abbot Serapion exposed the mock humility of a certain man. . . . 483 
 
 Chapter XII. — A question how true patience can be gained 484 
 
 Chapter XIII. — The answer 484 
 
 Chapter XIV. — Of the example of patience given by a certain religious woman 485 
 
 Chapter XV. — Of the example of patience given by Abbot Paphnutius * . . . . 486 
 
 Chapter XVI. — Of the perfection of patience 487 
 
 XIX. — Conference of Abbot John; on the Aim of the Ccenobite and Hermit. 
 
 Chapter I. — Of the Ccenobium of Abbot Paul, and the patience of a certain brother 489 
 
 Chapter II. — Of Abbot John's humility, and our question 490 
 
 Chapter III. — Abbot John's answer why he had left the desert 490 
 
 Chapter IV. — Of the excellence which the aforesaid old man showed in the system of the Anchorites 490 
 
 Chapter V. — Of the advantages of the desert 491 
 
 Chapter VI. — Of the conveniences of the Ccenobium 491 
 
 Chapter VII. — A question on the fruits of the Ccenobium and the desert 492 
 
 Chapter VIII. — The answer to the question proposed 492 
 
 Chapter IX. — Of true and complete perfection 493 
 
 Chapter X. — Of those who while still imperfect retire into the desert 493 
 
 Chapter XI. — A question how to cure those who have hastily left the congregation of the Ccenobium 493 
 
 Chapter XII. — The answer telling how a solitary can discover his faults 494 
 
 Chapter XIII. — A question how a man can be cured who has entered on solitude without having his faults 
 
 eradicated 494 
 
 Chapter XIV. — The answer on their remedies 494 
 
 Chapter XV. — A question whether chastity ought to be ascertained just as the other feelings 495 
 
 Chapter XVI. — The answer, giving the proofs by which it can be recognized 496 
 
 XX. — Conference of Abbot Pinufius; on the End of Penitence and the Marks of Satisfaction. 
 
 Chapter I. — Of the humility of Abbot Pinufius, and of his hiding-place 496 
 
 Chapter II. — Of our coming to him 497 
 
 Chapter III. — A question on the end of penitence and the marks of satisfaction 497 
 
 Chapter IV. — The answer on the humility shown by our request 498 
 
 Chapter V. — Of the method of penitence and the proof of pardon 498 
 
 Chapter VI. — A question whether our sins ought to be remembered out of contrition of heart 498 
 
 Chapter VII. — The answer showing how far we ought to preserve the recollection of previous actions' .... 499 
 
 Chapter VIII. — Of the various fruits of penitence 499 
 
 Chapter IX. — How valuable to the perfect is the forgetfulness of sin 501 
 
 Chapter X. — How the recollection of our sin should be avoided 501 
 
 Chapter XI. — Of the marks of satisfaction, and the removal of past sins 502 
 
 Chapter XII. — Wherein we must do penance for a time only, and wherein it can have no end 502 
 
 XXI. — The First Conference of Abbot Theonas; on the Relaxation during the Fifty Days. 
 
 Chapter I. — How Theonas came to Abbot John 503 
 
 Chapter II. — The exhortation of Abbot John to Theonas, and the others who had come together with him. 503 
 
 Chapter III. — Of the offering of tithes and first-fruits 503 
 
 Chapter IV. — How Abraham, David, and other saints went beyond the requirements of the law 504 
 
 Chapter V. — How those who live under the grace of the Gospel ought to go beyond the requirements of 
 the law 504 
 
1 7 3 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chapter VI. — How the grace of the Gospel supports the weak so that they can obtain pardon, as it 
 
 secures to the perfect the kingdom of God 5°5 
 
 Chapter VII. — How it lies in our own power to choose whether to remain under the grace of the Gospel, 
 
 or under the terror of the law 505 
 
 Chapter VIII. — How Theonas exhorted his wife that she too should make her renunciation 505 
 
 Chapter IX. — How he fled to a monastery when his wife would not consent 506 
 
 Chapter X. — An explanation that we may not appear to recommend separation from wives 507 
 
 Chapter XI. — An inquiry why in Egypt they do not fast during all the fifty days (of Easter), nor bend 
 
 their knees in prayer. 5°7 
 
 Chapter XII. — The answer on the nature of things good, bad, and indifferent 507 
 
 Chapter XIII. — What kind of good fasting is 508 
 
 Chapter XIV. — How fasting is not good in its own nature 508 
 
 Chapter XV. — How a thing that is good in its own nature ought not to be done for the sake of some lesser 
 
 good • • 509 
 
 Chapter XVI. — How what is good in its own nature can be distinguished from other things that are good- . 510 
 
 Chapter XVII. — Of the reason for fasting and its value 510 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — How fasting is not always suitable 510 
 
 Chapter XIX. — A question why we break the fast all through Eastertide 511 
 
 Chapter XX. — The answer 511 
 
 Chapter XXI. — A question whether the relaxation of the fast is not prejudicial to the chastity of the body. 511 
 
 Chapter XXII. — The answer on the way to keep control over abstinence 511 
 
 Chapter XXIII. — Of the time and measure of refreshment 512 
 
 Chapter XXIV. — A question on the different ways of keeping Lent 513 
 
 Chapter XXV. — The answer to the effect that the fast of Lent has reference to the tithe of the year 513 
 
 Chapter XXVI. — How we ought also to offer our first fruits to the Lord 513 
 
 Chapter XXVII. — Why Lent is kept by many with a different number of days 514 
 
 Chapter XXVIII. — Why it is called Quadragesima, when the fast is only kept for thirty-six days 514 
 
 Chapter XXIX. — How those who are perfect go beyond the fixed rule of Lent 515 
 
 Chapter XXX. — Of the origin and beginning of Lent 515 
 
 Chapter XXXI. — A question how we ought to understand the Apostle's words: "Sin shall not have 
 
 dominion over you "••? 5 J 6 
 
 Chapter XXXII. — The answer on the difference between grace and the commands of the law 516 
 
 Chapter XXXIII. — Of the fact that the precepts of the Gospel are milder than those of the law 516 
 
 Chapter XXXIV. — How a man can be shown to be under grace 517 
 
 Chapter XXXV. — A question why some times, when we are fasting more strictly than usual, we are 
 
 troubled by carnal desires more keenly than usual 518 
 
 Chapter XXXVI. — The answer telling that this question should be reserved for a future conference 518 
 
 XXII. — The Second Conference of Abbot Theonas; on Nocturnal Illusions. 1 
 
 XXIII. — The Third Conference of Abbot Theonas; on Sinlessness. 
 
 Chapter I. — Discourse of Abbot Theonas on the Apostle's words: " For I do not the good that I would ". . 519 
 
 Chapter II. — How the Apostle completed many good actions 520 
 
 Chapter III. — What is the really good which the Apostle testifies that he could not perform 520 
 
 Chapter IV. — How man's goodness and righteousness are not good if compared with the goodness and 
 
 righteousness of God 521 
 
 Chapter V. ■ — How no one can be continually intent upon that highest good 521 
 
 Chapter VI. — How those who think that they are without sin are like purblind people 523 
 
 Chapter VII. — How those who maintain that a man can be without sin are charged with a twofold error.. 523 
 
 Chapter VIII. — How it is given to but few to understand what sin is 524 
 
 Chapter IX. — Of the care with which a monk should preserve the recollection of God 524 
 
 Chapter -X. — How those who are on the way to perfection are truly humble, and feel that they always 
 
 stand in need of God's grace 525 
 
 Chapter XI. — Explanation of the phrase: " For I delight in the law of God after the inner man, etc." 525 
 
 Chapter XII. — Of this also: " But we know that the law is spiritual, etc." 526 
 
 Chapter XIII. — Of this also: " But I know that in me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing " — . 526 
 Chapter XIV. — An objection that the saying, "For I do not the good that I would, etc.," applies to the 
 
 persons neither of unbelievers nor of saints 527 
 
 Chapter XV. — The answer to the objection raised 527 
 
 Chapter XVI. — What is the body of sin 528 
 
 Chapter XVII. — How all the saints have confessed with truth that they were unclean and sinful 529 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — That even good and holy men are not without sin 530 
 
 Chapter XIX. — How even in the hour of prayer it is almost impossible to avoid sin 530 
 
 Chapter XX. — From whom we can learn the destruction of sin, and perfection of goodness 531 
 
 Chapter XXI. — That, although we acknowledge that we cannot be without sin, yet still we ought not to 
 
 suspend ourselves from the Lord's communion 531 
 
 1 Omitted in the translation. 
 
CONTENTS. 179 
 
 XXIV. — Conference of Abbot Abraham; on Mortification. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chapter I. — How we laid bare the secrets of our thoughts to Abbot Abraham 531 
 
 Chapter II. — How the old man exposed our errors 532 
 
 Chapter III. — Of the character of the districts which Anchorites ought to seek 533 
 
 Chapter IV. — What sorts of work should be chosen by Solitaries 533 
 
 Chapter V. ■ — -That anxiety of heart is made worse rather than better by restlessness of body 533 
 
 Chapter VI. — A comparison showing how a monk ought to keep guard over his thoughts 534 
 
 Chapter VII. — A question why the neighbourhood of our kinsfolk is considered to interfere with us, 
 
 whereas it does not interfere in the case of those living in Egypt 534 
 
 Chapter VIII. — The answer that all things are not suitable for all men 534 
 
 Chapter IX. — -That those need not fear the neighbourhood of their kinsfolk, who can emulate the mortifica- 
 tion of Abbot Apollos 535 
 
 Chapter X. — A question whether it is bad for a monk to have his wants supplied by his kinsfolk 535 
 
 Chapter XI. — The answer stating what Saint Antony laid down on this matter 536 
 
 Chapter XII. — Of the value of work, and the harm of idleness 536 
 
 Chapter XIII. — A story of a barber's payments, introduced for the sake of recognizing the devil's 
 
 illusions 
 
 537 
 
 Chapter XIV. — ■ A question how such wrong notions can creep into us 538 
 
 Chapter XV. — The answer on the threefold movement of the soul 538 
 
 Chapter XVI. — That the rational part of our soul is corrupt. 538 
 
 Chapter XVII. — How the weaker part of the soul is the first to yield to the devil's temptations 538 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — A question whether we should be drawn back to our country by a proper desire for 
 
 greater silence 535 
 
 Chapter XIX. ■ — The answer on the devil's illusion, because he promises us the peace of a vaster solitude.. 539 
 
 Chapter XX. — How useful is relaxation on the arrival of brethren 540 
 
 Chapter XXI. — - How the Evangelist John is said to have shown the value of relaxation 540 
 
 Chapter XXII. — -A question how we ought to understand what the Gospel says: " My yoke is easy, and 
 
 my burden is light " 541 
 
 Chapter XXIII. — The answer, with the explanation of the saying 541 
 
 Chapter XXIV. — Why the Lord's yoke is felt grievous and His burden heavy 541 
 
 Chapter XXV. — Of the good which an attack of temptations brings about 542 
 
 Chapter XXVI. — How the promise of an hundredfold in this life is made to those whose renunciation is 
 
 perfect 543 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN ON THE INCARNATION OF THE LORD AGAINST 
 
 NESTORIUS. PREFACE. 
 
 Book I. 
 
 Chapter I. — The heresy compared to the hydra of the poets 55 1 
 
 Chapter II. — Description of the different heretical monsters which spring from one another 551 
 
 Chapter III. — He describes the pestilent error of the Pelagians 552 
 
 Chapter IV. — Leporius, together with some others, recants his Pelagianism 553 
 
 Chapter V. — By the case of Leporius he establishes the fact that an open sin ought to be expiated by an 
 
 open confession, and also teaches from his words what is the right view to be held on the Incarnation. . . • 553 
 
 Chapter VI. — The united doctrine of the orthodox is to be received as the Catholic faith 555 
 
 Book II. 
 
 Chapter I. — How the errors of later heretics have been condemned and refuted in the persons of their 
 
 authors and originators 555 
 
 Chapter II. — Proof that the Virgin Mother of God was not only Christotocos but also Theotocos, and that 
 
 Christ is truly God 556 
 
 Chapter III. — He follows up the same argument with passages from the Old Testament 557 
 
 Chapter IV. ■ — He produces testimonies to the same doctrine from the Apostle Paul 559 
 
 Chapter V. — From the gifts of Divine grace which we receive through Christ he infers that He is truly God. 560 
 Chapter VI. — That the power of bestowing Divine grace did not come to Christ in the course of time, but 
 
 was innate in Him from His very birth 561 
 
 Chapter VII. — How in Christ Divinity, Majesty, Might and Power have existed in perfection from eternity, 
 
 and will continue 562 
 
i8o CONTENTS. 
 
 Book III. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chapter I. — That Christ, who is God and man in unity of person, sprang from Israel and the Virgin Mary 
 
 according to the flesh 562 
 
 Chapter II. — The title of God is given in one sense to Christ, in another to men 563 
 
 Chapter III. — He explains the Apostle's saying, " From henceforth we know no man according to the 
 
 flesh," etc 563 
 
 Chapter IV. — From the Epistle to the Galatians he brings forward a passage to show that the weakness of 
 
 the flesh in Christ was absorbed by His Divinity 564 
 
 Chapter V. — As it is blasphemy to pare away the Divinity of Christ, so also is it blasphemous to deny that 
 
 He is true man 564 
 
 Chapter VI.-— < -He shows from the appearance of Christ vouchsafed to the Apostle when persecuting the 
 
 Church, the existence of both natures in Him 565 
 
 Chapter VII. — He shows once more by other passages of the Apostle that Christ is God 566 
 
 Chapter VIII. — When confessing the Divinity of Christ we ought not to pass over in silence the Confession 
 
 of the Cross 567 
 
 Chapter IX. — How the Apostle's preaching was rejected by Jews and Gentiles because it confessed that 
 
 the crucified Christ was God 567 
 
 Chapter X. — How the Apostle maintains that Christ is the power of God and the wisdom of God . — . 568 
 
 Chapter XI. — He supports the same doctrine by proofs from the Gospel 569 
 
 Chapter XII. — He proves from the renowned confession of the blessed Peter that Christ is God 569 
 
 Chapter XIII. — The confession of the blessed Peter receives a testimony to its truth from Christ Himself.. 570 
 
 Chapter XIV. — How the confession of the blessed Peter is the faith of the whole Church 570 
 
 Chapter XV. — St. Thomas also confessed the same faith as Peter after the Lord's resurrection 571 
 
 Chapter XVI. — He brings forward the witness of God the Father to the Divinity of the Son 572 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 Chapter I. — That Christ was before the Incarnation God from everlasting 573 
 
 Chapter II. — He infers from what he has said that the Virgin Mary gave birth to a son who had pre-existed 
 
 and was greater than she herself was 574 
 
 Chapter III. — He proves from the Epistle to the Romans the eternal Divinity of Christ 574 
 
 Chapter IV. — He brings forward other testimonies to the same view 575 
 
 Chapter V. — How in virtue of the hypostatic union of the two natures in Christ the Word is rightly termed 
 
 the Saviour or incarnate man, and the Son of God 575 
 
 Chapter VI. — That there is in Christ but one hypostasis 576 
 
 Chapter VII. — He returns to the former subject in order to show against the Nestorians that those things 
 are said of the man which belong to the Divine nature, as it were, of a person of Divine nature, and 
 conversely that those things are said of God which belong to the human nature, as it were, of a person 
 
 of human nature, because there is in Christ but one and a single personal self 577 
 
 Chapter VIII. — How this interchange of titles does not interfere with His Divine power 577 
 
 Chapter IX. — He corroborates this statement by the authority of the old prophets 578 
 
 Chapter X. — He proves Christ's Divinity from the blasphemy of Judaizing Jews, as well as from the con- 
 fession of converts to the faith of Christ 579 
 
 Chapter XI. — He returns to the prophecy of Isaiah 579 
 
 Chapter XII. — How the title of Saviour is given to Christ in one sense, and to riien in another 5S0 
 
 Chapter XIII. — He explains who are those in whose person the prophet Isaiah says: "Thou art our God, 
 
 and we knew thee not " 580 
 
 Book V. 
 
 Chapter I. — He vehemently inveighs against the error of the Pelagians who declared that Christ was a • 
 mere man 5^° 
 
 Chapter II. — That the doctrine of Nestorius is closely connected with the error of the Pelagians .... 581 
 
 Chapter III. — How this participation in Divinity which the Pelagians and Nestorius attribute to Christ is 
 
 common to all holy men • 5^2 
 
 Chapter IV. — ■ What the difference is between Christ and the saints 5& 2 
 
 Chapter V. — That before His birth in time Christ was always called God by the prophets. 583 
 
 Chapter VI. — He illustrates the same doctrine by passages from the New Testament 584 
 
 Chapter VII. — He shows again from the union in Christ of two natures in one person that what belongs 
 
 to the Divine nature may rightly be ascribed to man, and what belongs to the human nature to God 584 
 
 Chapter VIII. — He confirms the judgment of the Apostle by the authority of the Lord . 586 
 
 Chapter IX. — Since those marvellous works which from the days of Moses were shown to the children of 5S6 
 
 Israel are attributed to Christ, it follows that He must have existed long before His birth in time 
 
 Chapter X. — He explains what it means to confess, and what it means to dissolve Jesus 587 
 
 Chapter XL — The mystery of the Lord's Incarnation clearly implies the Divinity of Christ 5S8 
 
 Chapter XII. — He explains more fully what the mystery is, which is signified under the name of man and 
 
 wife 5 8 9 
 
CONTENTS. 181 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chapter XIII. — Of the longing with which the old patriarchs desired to see the revelation of that 
 
 mystery 589 
 
 Chapter XIV. — He refutes the wicked and blasphemous notion of the heretics who said that God dwelt 
 
 and spoke in Christ as in an instrument or a statue 590 
 
 Chapter XV. — What the prayers of the saints for the coming of Messiah contained ; and what was the 
 
 nature of that longing of theirs 590 
 
 Book VI. 
 
 Chapter I. — From the miracle of the feeding of the multitude from the five barley loaves and two fishes he 
 
 shows the majesty of Divine power 591 
 
 Chapter II. — The author adapts the mystery of the number seven (made up of ihejive loaves and the two 
 
 fishes) to his own work 591 
 
 Chapter III. — He refutes his opponent by the testimony of the Council of Antioch 592 
 
 Chapter IV. — ■ How the Creed has authority divine as well as human 593 
 
 Chapter V. — ■ He proceeds against his opponent with the choicest arguments, and shows that we ought to 
 
 hold fast to the religion which we have received from our fathers 593 
 
 Chapter VI. — Once more he challenges him to the profession of the Creed of Antioch 594 
 
 Chapter VII. — He continues the same line of argument drawn from the Creed of Antioch 595 
 
 Chapter VIII. — How it can be said that Christ came and was born of a Virgin 595 
 
 Chapter IX. — Again he convicts his opponent of deadly heresy by his own confession 596 
 
 Chapter X. — He inveighs against him because though he has forsaken the Catholic religion, he nevertheless 
 
 presumes to teach in the Church, to sacrifice, and to give decisions 596 
 
 Chapter XI. — He removes the silent objection of heretics who want to recant the profession of their faith 
 
 made in childhood 597 
 
 Chapter XII. — Christ crucified is an offence and foolishness to those who declare that He was a mere man • . 598 
 Chapter XIII. — He replies to the objection in which they say that the child born ought to be of one 
 
 substance with the mother 598 
 
 Chapter XIV. — He compares this erroneous view with the teaching of the Pelagians 598 
 
 Chapter XV. — He shows that those who patronize this false teaching acknowledge two Christs. 599 
 
 Chapter XVI. — He shows further that this teaching is destructive of the confession of the Trinity 599 
 
 Chapter XVII. — Those who are under an error in one point of the Catholic religion lose the whole faith, 
 
 and all the value of the faith 600 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — He directs his discourse upon his antagonist with whom he is disputing, and begs him to 
 
 return to his senses. The sacrament of reconciliation is necessary for the lapsed for their salvation 600 
 
 Chapter XIX. ■ — -That the birth of Christ in time diminished nothing of the glory and power of His Deity- - . 600 
 Chapter XX. ■ — ■ He shows from what has been said that we do not mean that God was mortal or of flesh 
 
 before the worlds, although Christ, who is God from eternity and was made man in time, is but one 
 
 person 60 1 
 
 Chapter XXI. — The authority of Holy Scripture teaches that Christ existed from all eternity 601 
 
 Chapter XXII. — The hypostatic union enables us to ascribe to God what belongs to the flesh in Christ- ■ •• 602 
 Chapter XXIII. — That the figure synecdoche, in which the part stands for the whole, is very familiar to the 
 
 Holy Scripture 602 
 
 Book VII. 
 
 Chapter I. — As he is going to reply to the slanders of his opponents, he implores the aid of Divine Grace to 
 
 teach a prayer to be used by those who undertake to dispute with heretics 603 
 
 Chapter II. — He meets the objection taken from these words: No one gave birth to one who had existed 
 
 before her 604 
 
 Chapter III. — He replies to the cavil that the one who is born must be of one substance with the one who 
 
 bears. 605 
 
 Chapter IV. — ■ How God has shown His omnipotence in His birth in time as well as in everything else. . . . 606 
 Chapter V. — - He shows by proofs drawn from nature itself, that the law which his opponents lay down, 
 
 viz., that the one born ought to be of one substance with the one who bears, fails to hold good in 
 
 many cases 606 
 
 Chapter VI. — He refutes another argument of Nestorius, in which he tried to make out that Christ was like 
 
 Adam in every point • 607 
 
 Chapter VII. — Heretics usually cover their doctrines with a cloak of Holy Scripture 608 
 
 Chapter VIII. — The heretics attribute to Christ only the shadow of Divinity, and so assert that He is to be 
 
 worshipped together with God but not as God. 608 
 
 Chapter IX. — How those are wrong who say that the birth of Christ was a secret, since it was clearly 
 
 shown even to the patriarch Jacob 609 
 
 Chapter X. — He collects more witnesses of the same fact 610 
 
 Chapter XI. — How the devil was forced by many reasons to the view that Christ was God 610 
 
 Chapter XII. — He compares this notion and reasonable suspicion of the devil with the obstinate and 
 
 inflexible idea of his opponents, and shows that this last is worse and more blasphemous than the 
 
 former 610 
 
 Chapter XIII. — How the devil always retained this notion of Christ's Divinity (because of His secret 
 
 working which he experienced) even up to His cross and death 610 
 
182 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chapter XIV. — He shows how heretics pervert Holy Scripture, by replying to the argument drawn from 
 
 the Apostle's words " without father, without mother, etc." — Heb. viii 61 1 
 
 Chapter XV. — How Christ could be said by the Apostle to be without genealogy 612 
 
 Chapter XVI. — He shows that like the devil when tempting Christ, the heretics garble and pervert Holy 
 
 Scripture 612 
 
 Chapter XVII. —That the glory and honour of Christ is not to be ascribed to the Holy Ghost in such a way 
 
 as to deny that it proceeds from Christ Himself, as if all that excellency, which was in Him, was 
 
 another's and proceeded from another source 613 
 
 Chapter XVIII. — How we are to understand the Apostle's words " He appeared in the flesh, was justified 
 
 in the spirit, etc." 614 
 
 Chapter XIX. — That it was not only the Spirit, but Christ Himself also, who made Him to be feared 614 
 
 Chapter XX. — He tries by stronger and weightier arguments to destroy that notion 615 
 
 Chapter XXI. — That it must be ascribed equally to Christ and the Holy Ghost that His flesh and 
 
 humanity became the temple of God '. 615 
 
 Chapter XXII. — That the'raising up of Christ into heaven is not to be ascribed to the Spirit alone 616 
 
 Chapter XXIII. — He continues the same argument to show that Christ had no need of another's glory as 
 
 He had glory of His own 616 
 
 Chapter XXIV. ■ — He supports this doctrine by the authority of the blessed Hilary 617 
 
 Chapter XXV. — He shows. that Ambrose agrees with S. Hilary 617 
 
 Chapter XXVI. — He adds to the foregoing the testimony of S. Jerome 618 
 
 Chapter XXVII. — To the foregoing he adds Rufinus and the blessed Augustine 618 
 
 Chapter XXVIII. — As he is going to produce the testimony of Greek or Eastern Bishops, he brings 
 
 forward in the first place S. Gregory Nazianzen 619 
 
 Chapter XXIX. — In the next place he puts the authority of S. Athanasius 619 
 
 Chapter XXX. — He adds also S. John Chrysostom 619 
 
 Chapter XXXI. — He bemoans the unhappy lot of Constantinople owing to the misfortune which has 
 
 overtaken it from that heretic; and at the same time he urges the citizens to stand fast in the ancient 
 
 Catholic and ancestral faith 620 
 
PROLEGOMENA. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The Life of Cassian. 
 
 " Cassianus natione Scytha " is the description given by Gennadius * of the writer whose 
 works are now for the first time translated into English. In spite, however, of the precision of 
 this statement, considerable doubt hangs over Cassian's nationality, and it is hard to believe 
 that he was in reality a Scythian. Not only is his language and style free from all trace of 
 barbarism, but as a boy he certainly received a liberal education; for in his Conferences he 
 laments that the exertions of his tutor and his own attention to continual study had so weak- 
 ened him that his mind was so filled with songs of the poets that even at the hour of 
 prayer it was thinking of those trifling fables and stories of battles with which it had from 
 earliest infancy been stored; "and," he adds, "when singing Psalms or asking forgiveness 
 of sins, some wanton recollection of the poems intrudes itself or the image of heroes fighting 
 presents itself before the eyes; and an imagination of such phantoms is always haunting 
 me." 2 Further evidence of the character of his education is also supplied by the fact 
 that in his work on the Incarnation against Nestorius he manifests an acquaintance not only 
 with the works of earlier Christian Fathers, but also with those of such writers as Cicero 
 and Persius. 3 
 
 These considerations are sufficient to make us hesitate before accepting the statement of 
 Gennadius in what would at first sight be its natural meaning; although from the fact of his 
 connection with Marseilles, where so much of Cassian's life was spent, as well as the early 
 date at which he wrote (a. d. 495), it is dangerous to reject his authority altogether. It 
 is, however, possible that the term " Scytha " is not really intended to denote a Scythian, 
 but to refer to the desert of Scete, or Scitis, 4 injCgypt, where Cassian passed many years of 
 his life, and with which his fame was closely associated; and, therefore, without going to the 
 length of rejecting the authority of Gennadius altogether, we are free to look for some other 
 country as the birthplace of our author. But little light is thrown on this subject by the 
 statements of other writers. Photius 5 (a.d. 800) calls him 'Pwuulog, which need mean no 
 more than born within the Roman Empire; while Ffonorius of Autun (a.d. 1130) speaks 
 of him as Afer. The last-mentioned writer is, however, of too late a date to be of any author- 
 ity; and it is just possible that the term "Afer," like the "Scytha" of Gennadius, may be 
 owing to his lengthy residence in Egypt. 6 In the writings of Cassian himself there is nothing 
 to enable us to identify the country of his birth with certainty; but, in describing the 
 situation of his ancestral home, he speaks of the delightful pleasantness of the neighbour- 
 hood, and the recesses of the woods, which would not only delight the heart of a monk 
 but would also furnish him with a plentiful supply of food; 7 while in a later passage he 
 says that in his own country it was impossible to find any one who had adopted the monastic 
 life. 8 From these notices, compared with a passage in the Preface to the Institutes, where 
 
 1 Gennadius Catalogus, c. lxii. 
 
 2 Conference XIV. xii. 
 
 3 On the Incarnation, VI. ix., x. 
 
 4 2kiix0is, and S/ciafliKr; (v. 1. 2ki#kik7)) x^P a are tne forms of the name given by Ptolemy. The Greek Fathers speak of the dis- 
 trict as 2/c>)Ti9, while in Latin writers the name appears as Sc.ythia, or Scythis ; and, though the printed texts of Cassian give the form as 
 Scitium, heremus Scitii, and heremus Scitiotica, yet we learn from Petschenig that in the MSS. of his works it is not seldom written as 
 Scythium. It should be added that in the text of Gennadius the reading is not absolutely free from doubt, as there is some slight authority 
 for reading " natus Serta." 
 
 5 Bibliotheca, cod. cxcvii. 
 
 6 Dr. Gregory Smith {Dictionary of Christian Biography, art. Cassian) thinks that 'Cassianus' possibly points to Casius, a small 
 town in Syria; but, apart from the fact that the name was not uncommon in the West as well as in the East, the description of his home 
 as being in a country where there were no monasteries is quite fatal to this idea. 
 
 7 Conference XXIV. i. 
 
 8 c. xviii. 
 
 i3 3 
 
1 84 
 
 PROLEGOMENA. 
 
 the diocese of Apta Julia in Gallia Narbonensis is spoken of as still without monasteries, 
 some ground is given for the conjecture that Cassian was really a native of Gaul, whither 
 he returned in mature age after his wanderings were ended, and where most of his friends of 
 whom we have any knowledge were settled. On the whole, then, it appears to the present 
 writer to be the most probable view that Cassian was of Western origin, and, perhaps, a 
 native of Provence, although it must be freely acknowledged that it is impossible to speak 
 with certainty on this subject. 1 
 
 Once more: not only is there this doubt about his nationality, but questions have also 
 been raised concerning his original name. Gennadius and Cassiodorus 2 speak of him 
 simply as Cassianus. In his own writings he represents himself as addressed by the monks 
 in Egypt more than once by the name of John. 3 Prosper of Aquitaine (his contemporary 
 and antagonist) combines both names, and speaks of him as "Joannes cognomento Cas- 
 sianus." 4 In the titles of the majority of the MSS. of his own writing he is merely 
 "Cassianus," though in one case the work is entitled "Beatissimi Joannis qui et Cassiani." 5 
 Are we, then, with the writer of the last-mentioned MS., to suppose that the names John and 
 Cassian are alternatives; or, with Prosper, that John was his nomen and Cassianus his 
 cognomen, or, more strictly, agnomen? The former view is, perhaps, the more probable, as 
 he may well have taken the name of John at his baptism or at his admission to the mon- 
 astic life. The theory which has sometimes been advocated — that he received it at his 
 ordination by S. John Chrysostom — falls to the ground when we notice that he represents him- 
 self as called John during his residence in Egypt, several years before his ordination and 
 intercourse with S. Chrysostom. 
 
 To pass now from the question of his name and nationality to the narrative of Cassian's 
 life. Various considerations point to the date of his birth as about the year 360. Of his 
 family we know nothing, except that in one passage of his writings he incidentally makes 
 mention of a sister; 6 while the language which he uses of his parents would imply that they 
 were well-to-do and pious. 7 As we have already seen, he received a liberal education 
 as a boy, but while still young forsook the world, and was received, together with his 
 friend Germanus, into a monastery at Bethlehem, 8 where he spent several years and became 
 thoroughly familiar with the customs and traditions of the monasteries of Syria. Eager, 
 however, to make further progress in the perfect life, the two friends finally determined to 
 visit Egypt, 9 where, as it was the country in which the monastic life originated, the most 
 famous monasteries existed, and the most illustrious Anchorites were to be found. Per- 
 mission to undertake the journey was sought and obtained from their superiors, a pledge 
 being required of a speedy return when the object of their visit was gained. 10 Sailing from 
 some port of Syria, perhaps Joppa, the friends arrived at Thennesus, a town at the mouth of 
 the Tanitic branch of the Nile, near Lake Menzaleh. Here they fell in with a celebrated 
 Anchorite named Archebius, bishop of the neighbouring town of Panephysis, who had come 
 to Thennesus on business connected with the election of a bishop. He, on hearing the object 
 of their visit to Egypt, at once offered them an introduction to some celebrated Anchorites 
 in his own neighbourhood. The offer was gladly accepted, and under his guidance they 
 made their way through a dreary district of salt marshes, many of the villages being in ruins 
 and deserted by their inhabitants owing to the floods which had inundated the country and 
 turned the rising grounds into islands, " and thus afforded the desired solitudes to the holy An- 
 chorites, among whom three old men — Chaeremon, Nesteros, and Joseph — were famed as the 
 Anchorites of the longest standing." 11 Archebius brought them first to Chaeremon, who had 
 already passed his hundredth year, and was so far bent with age and constant prayer that he 
 could no longer walk upright, but crawled upon his hands and knees. The saint's hesita- 
 tion at allowing himself to be thus interviewed by strangers was soon overcome, and he finally 
 
 1 No difficulty need be felt on the score of his thorough knowledge of Greek, for this could easily be accounted for by his education at 
 Bethlehem, and prolonged residence in the East. 
 
 2 De Div. Lect. Pref., and c. xxix. 
 
 3 Conference XIV. ix.; Institute V. xxxv. 
 
 4 Chronicle. 
 
 5 Parisinus. Nouv. acquis. Lat. 260, of the eighth or ninth century. 
 
 6 Institutes XI. xviii. 
 
 7 Conference XXIV. i. 
 
 8 See the Institutes III. iv. ; IV. xix.-xxi., xxxi. Conferences I. i. ; XI. i. v. ; XIX. i. ; XX. i. The date is too early for this to have 
 been S. Jerome's famous monastery, as that father only settled at Bethlehem towards the close of 3S6, by which time Cassian himself 
 must have been already in Egypt ; nor does he anywhere in his writings make any allusion to Jerome as his teacher, although he mentions 
 him with great respect in his work on the Incarnation, Book VII. c. xxvi. 
 
 9 Conference XI. i. A good account of Cassian's visits to Egypt is given in Fleury's Ecclesiastical History, Book XX., c. iii.-vii. 
 
 10 Conference XVII. ii. 
 
 11 Conference XI. i.-iii., and compare VII. xxvi. for another description of the same district. 
 
PROLEGOMENA. 
 
 gratified their curiosity by delivering three discourses, on the subjects of Perfection, Chas- 
 tity, and the Protection of God. 1 From the cell of Chaeremon Cassian and his companion 
 proceeded to that of Abbot Nesteros, who honoured them with two discourses, on Spiritual 
 Knowledge, and Divine Gifts; 2 and from him they repaired to Joseph, who belonged to a 
 noble family, and before his renunciation of the world had been "primarius" of his native 
 city, Thmuis. He was naturally better educated than the others, and was able to converse with 
 them in Greek instead of being obliged to have recourse to the help of an interpreter, as had 
 been the case with Chaeremon and Nesteros. 3 His first question referred to the relationship 
 between Cassian and Germanus: were they brothers ? And their reply — that the brotherhood 
 was spiritual and not carnal — furnished the old man with a text for his first discourse, which 
 was on Friendship, and which was followed up on the next day by one on the Obligation of 
 Promises, 4 called forth by the perplexity in which the travellers found themselves owing to 
 their promise to return to Bethlehem, — a promise which they were loth to break, and which 
 yet they could not fulfil without losing a grand opportunity of making progress in the spirit- 
 ual life. In their difficulty they consulted Joseph; and, fortified by his authority and advice, 
 they determined to break the letter of their promise and make a longer stay in Egypt, where 
 they accordingly remained for seven years in spite of their brethren at Bethlehem, whose 
 displeasure at their conduct, Cassian tells us, was not removed by their frequent letters 
 home. 5 
 
 It was while Cassian and his fellow-traveller were still in the neighbourhood of Panephysis 
 that these energetic precursors of the modern "interviewers'' paid a visit to Abbot Pinufius, 
 a priest who presided over a large monastery. This man was an old friend of theirs, whose 
 acquaintance they had previously made at Bethlehem, whither (after an ineffectual attempt 
 to conceal himself in a monastery in the island of Tabenna) he had fled in order to escape 
 the responsibilities of his office. There he had been received as a novice, and had been 
 assigned by the abbot as an inmate of Cassian's cell, until he was recognized by a visitor 
 from Egypt and brought back in triumph to his own monastery. 6 To him, therefore, Cassian 
 and Germanus made their way; and by him they were warmly welcomed; the old man repay- 
 ing their former hospitality by giving them quarters in his own cell. While staying in this 
 monastery they were so fortunate as to be present at the admission of a novice, and heard the 
 charge which Pinufius made to the new-comer on the occasion; 7 and afterwards the abbot 
 favoured them with a discourse '"on the end of penitence and the marks of satisfaction." 8 
 After this, resisting his pressing invitation to remain with him in the monastery, they pro- 
 ceeded once more on their travels, and, crossing the river, came to Diolcos, a town 
 hard by the Sebennytic mouth of the Nile. Here was a barren tract of land between the 
 river and the sea, rendered unfit for cultivation by the saltness of the soil and the dryness of 
 the sand. It was, therefore, eagerly seized upon by the monks, who congregated here in great 
 numbers in spite of the absence of water; the river from which it had to be fetched being 
 some three miles distant. 9 In this neighbourhood they made the acquaintance of Abbot 
 Piamun, a most celebrated Anchorite, who explained to them with great care the character- 
 istics of the three kinds of monks; viz., the Coenobites, the Anchorites, and the Sarabaites. 10 
 This discourse had the effect of exciting their desire more keenly than ever for the Anchor- 
 ites' life in preference to that of the Coenobite, — a desire which was afterwards confirmed by 
 what they saw and heard in the desert of Scete. They next visited a large monastery in the 
 same neighbourhood, which was governed by the Abbot Paul, and which ordinarily accom- 
 modated two hundred monks, but was at that moment filled with a much larger number, who 
 had come from the surrounding monasteries to celebrate the "depositio" of the late abbot. 11 
 Here they met a certain Abbot John, whose humility had led him to give up the life of an 
 Anchorite for that of a Coenobite, in order that he might have the opportunity of practising 
 the virtues of obedience and subjection, which seemed out of the reach of the solitary. He 
 was accordingly well qualified to speak of the subject which he selected for his discourse: 
 viz., the aims of the Anchorite and Coenobite life. 12 Another well-known abbot, whose 
 acquaintance they now made, was Theonas, who, when quite a young man, had been married 
 by his parents, and later on, on failing to obtain the consent of his wife to a separation, in 
 
 1 Conferences XI., XII., XIII. 1 Institute V. xxxii.-xlii. 
 
 2 Conferences XIV., XV. « Conference XX. 
 
 3 Conference XVI. i. 9 institute V. xxxvi. 
 
 * Conferences XVI., XVII. w Conference XVIII. On the Sarabaites, see the note on c. vii. 
 
 B See Conference XVII. i.-v. and xxx. « Conference XIX. i. 
 
 Conference XX. i., ii. The story is also told in the Institutes, « Conference XIX. i. 
 IV. xxx. 
 
186 PROLEGOMENA. 
 
 order that they might devote themselves to the monastic life, had deserted her and fled away 
 into a monastery, where after a time he had been promoted to the office of almoner. From 
 him they heard a discourse on the relaxation of the fast during Easter-tide and Pentecost, 1 
 and, later on, one concerning Nocturnal Illusions, 2 and another on Sinlessness. 3 By these 
 various discourses the two friends were rendered more desirous than ever of adopting the 
 Anchorite. life, and less inclined than before to return to the subjection of the monastery at 
 Bethlehem. A far better course seemed to them to return to their own home, probably (as 
 we have seen) in Gaul, where they would be free to practice what austerities they pleased 
 without let or hindrance. 4 In their perplexity they consulted Abbot Abraham, who threw 
 cold water on their plan in a discourse on Mortification, 5 which was entirely successful in 
 persuading them to relinquish their half-formed intention. They, therefore, remained in 
 Egypt for some years longer; and it is to the time of their stay in the neighbourhood of 
 Diolcos that their acquaintance with Abbot Archebius must be assigned. This man, so Cas- 1 
 sian tells us, 6 having discovered their desire to make some stay in the place, offered them 
 the use of his cell, pretending that he was about to go off on a journey. They gladly accepted 
 his offer. He went away for a few days, collected materials, and then returned and proceeded 
 to build a new cell for himself. Shortly afterwards some more brethren came. He at once 
 gave up to them his newly built cell, and once more set to work to build another for himself. 
 It is difficult to determine whether a stay in the desert of Scete was comprised in 
 the seven years which the two friends now spent in Egypt, or whether they visited it for the 
 first time during their second tour, after their return from Bethlehem. On the one hand, the 
 language used in Conference XVIII. cc. i. and xvi. would almost suggest that they made 
 their way into this remote district during their first sojourn in Egypt; and, on the other hand, 
 that employed in Conference I. c. i. might imply a distinct journey to Egypt for the sake 
 of visiting this region: and in XVII. xxx. Cassian distinctly asserts that they did visit Scete 
 after their return to Bethlehem in fulfilment of their promise. On the whole, it appears the 
 more natural view to suppose that their first tour was not extended beyond the Delta, more 
 distant expeditions being reserved for a future occasion. Adopting, then, this view, we follow 
 the travellers, after a seven years' absence, back to the monastery at Bethlehem, where they 
 managed to pacify the irate brethren, and, strange to say, obtained leave to return to Egypt 
 a second time. 7 On this occasion they penetrated farther into the country than they had 
 previously done. The region which they now visited was the desert of Scete, or Scitis ; that 
 is, the southern part of the famous Nitrian Valley, a name which is well known to all 
 students from the rich treasure of Syrian MSS. brought home from thence by the Hon. 
 Robert Curzon and Archdeacon Tattam now more than forty years ago. The district lies 
 "to the northwest of Cairo, three days' journey in the Libyan desert," 8 and gains its name 
 of Nitria from the salt lakes which still furnish abundance of nitre, which has been worked 
 for fully two thousand years. The valley has some claims to be considered the original 
 home of monasticism. Some have thought that a colony of Therapeutae was settled here 
 in the earliest days; and hither S. Frontonius is said to have retired with seventy brethren, to 
 lead the life of ascetics, about the middle of the second century. 9 Less doubtful is the fact 
 that S. Ammon, a contemporary and friend of S. Antony, organized the monastic system here 
 in the fourth century, and "filled the same place in lower Egypt as Antony in the The- 
 baid. " 10 Towards the close of the fourth century the valley was crowded with cells and 
 monasteries. Rufinus, who visited it about 372, mentions fifty monasteries; 11 and the 
 same number is given by Sozomen, who says that "some were inhabited by monks who live 
 together in society, others by monks who have adopted a solitary mode of existence." 12 About 
 twenty years later Palladius passed a considerable time here, and reckons the total number 
 of monks and ascetics at five thousand. 13 They were also visited by S. Jerome about 
 the same time, and various details of the life of the monks are given by him in his Epistles. 14 
 Some few monks still linger on to the present day to keep up the traditions of nearly eighteen 
 centuries. They were visited (among others) by the Hon. Robert Curzon in 1833; and an 
 interesting account of them is given by him in his volume on "the monasteries of the 
 Levant: " 1& but the latest and best account of them is that given by Mr. A. J. Butler, who 
 
 I Conference XXT. - Conference XXII. 3 Conference XXIII. 
 
 4 Conference XXIV. i. s Conference XXIV. 6 Institute V. xxxvi. so. 
 
 7 Conference XVII. xxx. 8 Butler's Coptic Churches, Vol. I., p. 287. 
 
 9 Rosweyd, Vitae Patrum; and the Bollandist Acta Sanctorum, 14 April, Vol. II., 201-3. 
 
 10 Dictionary of Christian Biography , art. Ammon ; cf. Rufinus, Hist. : Monach, xxx.; and Palladius, Hist. : Lausiaca, viii. 
 
 II Hist., Monach, c. xxi. 12 Sozomen, H. E. VI. xxxi. ^ Hist., Laus., c. vii. 
 14 Epp. : ad Eustochium, ad Rustic. 15 Part I., cc. vii., viii. 
 
PROLEGOMENA. 187 
 
 succeeded in gaining permission to visit them in 1883, and has described his journey in 
 his excellent work on " the ancient Coptic Churches of Egypt." 1 Four monasteries alone 
 remain, known as Dair Abu Makar, Dair Anba Bishoi, Dair es Suriani, and Dair al 
 Baramus; but the ruins of many others may still be traced in the desert tracts on the west 
 side of the Natron lakes, and the valley of the waterless river which at some very remote 
 period is supposed to have formed the bed of one of the branches of the Nile." 2 The mon- 
 asteries are all built on the same general plan, so that, as Mr. Butler tells us, a description 
 of one will more or less accurately describe the others. Dair Abu Makar (the monastery 
 of S. Macarius), the first which he visited, which lies strictly within the desert of Scete, 
 is spoken of as " a veritable fortress, standing about one hundred and fifty yards square, with 
 blind, lofty walls rising sheer out of the sand." " Each monastery has also, either detached or 
 not, a large keep, or tower, standing four-square, and approached only by a draw-bridge. 
 The tower contains the library, store-rooms for the vestments and sacred vessels, cellars 
 for oil and corn, and many strange holes and hiding-places of the monks in the last resort, 
 if their citadel should be taken by the enemy. Within the monastery in enclosed one 
 principal and one or two smaller court -yards, around which stand the cells of the monks, 
 domestic buildings, such as the mill-room, the oven, the refectory, and the like, and the 
 churches." 3 The outward aspect can have changed but little since the fourth century. 
 The buildings are perhaps stronger and more adapted to resist hostile attacks, but the 
 general plan is probably identical with that adopted in the earliest monasteries erected in 
 this remote region. Such, then, was the district to which Cassian and Germanus now made 
 their way. Here they first sought and obtained an interview with Abbot Moses, who had 
 formerly dwelt in the Thebaid near S. Antony, and was now living at a spot in the desert 
 of Scete known as Calamus, 4 and was famous not only for practical goodness but also for 
 contemplative excellence. After much persuasion he yielded to their entreaties and dis- 
 coursed to them "on the goal or aim of a monk," 5 and, on the following day, on Discre- 
 tion. 6 They next visited Abbot Paphnutius, or "the Buffalo," as he was named, from his 
 love of solitude. He was an aged priest who had lived for years the life of an Anchorite, 
 only leaving his cell for the purpose of going to the church, which was five miles off, on 
 Saturday and Sunday, and returning with a large bucket of water on his shoulders to last him 
 for the week. From him they heard of the " three kinds of renunciation " necessary for a 
 monk. 7 They also visited his disciple Daniel, who had been ordained priest through the 
 instrumentality of Paphnutius, but was so humble that he would never perform priestly 
 functions in the presence of his master. The subject of his discourse in answer to the inquiry 
 of the two friends was "the lust of the flesh and the spirit." 8 The next ascetic interviewed 
 was Serapion, who spoke of the "eight principal faults" to which a monk was exposed; 
 viz., gluttony, fornication, covetousness, anger, dejection, "accidie," vainglory, and pride. 9 
 After this they proceeded on a journey of some eighty miles to Cellae, a place that lay 
 between the desert of Scete (properly so called) and the Nitrian Valley, in order to consult 
 Abbot Theodore on a difficulty which the recent massacre of a number of monks in Palestine 
 by the Saracens had brought forcibly before them ; viz. , why was it that men of such illustrious 
 merits and so great virtues should be slain by robbers, and why should God permit so great 
 a crime to be committed? The difficulty was solved by Abbot Theodore in a discourse on 
 "the death of the saints; " 10 and thus the journey was not taken in vain. Two other cele- 
 brated monks were also visited by the friends, whose discourses are recorded by Cassian : 
 viz., Abbot Serenus, who spoke of "Inconstancy of mind, and Spiritual wickedness," 11 as 
 well as of the nature of evil spirits, in a Conference on " Principalities ; " 12 and Abbot Isaac, 
 who delivered two discourses on the subject of Prayer. 13 A few days after the first of these 
 was delivered there arrived in the desert the "festal letters" of Theophilus, Bishop of 
 Alexandria, in which he denounced the heresy of the Anthropomorphites. This caused a 
 great commotion among the monks of Scete; and Abbot Paphnutius, who presided over the 
 monastery where Cassian was staying, was the only one who would allow the letters to be 
 publicly read in the congregation. Finally, however, owing to the conciliatory firmness of 
 Paphnutius, the great body of the monks was won over to a sounder and less materialistic 
 view of the nature of the Godhead than had hitherto been prevalent among them. 14 
 
 1 The Ancient Coptic Churches of Egypt, by Alfred J. Butler. 2 vols. (Oxford, 1884). 
 
 2 Curzon, p. 79. 1 Conference III. 12 Conference VIII. 
 
 3 Butler, Vol. I., pp. 295, 6, 7. 8 Conference IV. ]3 Conference IX. x. 
 
 4 Conference II. ii. ; III. v. 9 Conference V. " See Conference X. cc. i-iii. 
 8 Conference I. 10 Conference VI. 
 
 6 Conference II. u Conference VII. 
 
188 PROLEGOMENA. 
 
 These are all the details that can be gathered from Cassian's writings of his stay in 
 Scete, further than which he does not appear to have penetrated, as, when he speaks of the 
 Thebaid and the monasteries there, it is only from hearsay and not from personal knowledge, 
 although his original intention had certainly been to visit this district among others. 1 
 
 In considering the date of Cassian's visit to Egypt there are various indications to guide 
 us. In Conference XVIII. c. xiv., S. Athanasius is spoken of by Abbot Piamun as "of 
 blessed memory; " and the language used of the Emperor Valens in c. vii. is such as to 
 imply that he was already dead. The former died in 373, and the latter in 378. Again, in 
 Conference XXIV. c. xxvi. Abbot Abraham is made to speak of John of Lycopolis as so 
 famous that he was consulted by the very lords of creation, who sought his advice, and 
 entrusted to his prayers and merits the crown of their empire and the fortunes of war. These 
 expressions evidently allude to John's announcement to Theodosius of his victory over 
 Maxentius in 388, and his success against Eugenius in 395. " If they stood alone, we could 
 scarcely rely on these indications of date with any great confidence because the Conferences 
 were not written till many years later, and it is impossible to determine with certainty how 
 far they really represent the discourses actually spoken by the Egyptian Fathers, or how 
 far they are the ideal compositions of Cassian himself. But, as we have seen, it is certain 
 that Cassian was actually in Egypt at the time of the Anthropomorphite controversy raised 
 by the letters of Theophilus in 399 ; and, as the other notices of events previously mentioned 
 coincide very fairly with this, we cannot be far wrong in placing the two visits to Egypt 
 between 380 and 400. About the last-named date Cassian must have finally left the country; 
 and we next hear of him in Constantinople, where he was ordained deacon by S. Chrysostom, 3 
 and, together with his friend Germanus, put in charge of the treasury, the only part of the 
 Cathedral which escaped the flames in the terrible conflagration of 404. Thus Cassian was 
 a witness of all the troublous scenes which attended the persecution of S. Chrysostom, whose 
 side he warmly espoused in the controversy which rent the East asunder. And when the 
 Saint was violently deposed and removed from Constantinople, the two friends — Germanus, 
 who was by this time raised to the priesthood, and Cassian, who was still in deacon's orders 
 — were chosen as the bearers of a letter to Pope Innocent I. from the clergy who adhered to 
 Chrysostom, detailing the scandalous scenes that had taken place, and the trials to which 
 they had been exposed. 4 Of the length of Cassian's stay in Rome we have no information, 
 but it is likely that it was of some considerable duration; and it may have been at this time 
 that he was ordained priest by Innocent. Possibly, also, it was now that he made the acquaint- 
 ance of one who was then quite young, but was destined afterwards to become famous as 
 Pope Leo the Great; for some years afterwards (a.d. 430) it was at the request of Leo, then 
 Archdeacon of Rome, that Cassian wrote his work on the Incarnation against Nestorius. 
 Leaving Rome, Cassian is next found in Gaul, 5 which (if we are right in the supposition that 
 it was his birthplace) he must have quitted when scarcely more than a child. When he left 
 it monasticism was a thing almost if not quite unknown there, but during his absence in 
 the East a few monasteries had been founded in the district of the Loire by S. Martin and 
 S. Hilary of Poictiers. Liguge' was founded shortly after 360, and Marmoutier rather later, 
 after 371 ; and about the time of his return similar institutions were beginning to spring up 
 in Provence. In 410 S. Honoratus founded the monastery which will ever be associated 
 with his name, in the island of Lerins, and, in the eloquent words of the historian of the 
 monks of the West, "opened the arms of his love to the sons of all countries who desired to 
 love Christ. A multitude of disciples of all nations joined him. The West could no longer 
 envy the East; and shortly that retreat, destined in the intentions of its founder to renew 
 upon the coasts of Provence the austerities of the Thebaid, became a celebrated school of 
 theology and Christian philosophy, a citadel inaccessible to the waves of barbarian inva- 
 sion, an asylum for literature and science, which had fled from Italy invaded by the Goths; — 
 in short, a nursery of bishops and saints, who were destined to spread over the whole of Gaul 
 the knowledge of the gospel and the glory of Le'rins." 6 
 
 It must have been about the same time — a little earlier or a little later — that Cassian 
 settled at Marseilles; and there, "in the midst of those great forests which had supplied the 
 
 1 See Conference XI. i. 2 Compare the Institutes, IV. xxiii. 3 On the Incarnation, VII. xxxi. 
 
 4 Palladius Dial. iii. ; Sozomen, H. E. VIII. xxvi. 
 
 5 It is highly precarious to infer from the language used in the Institutes, III. that Cassian visited Mesopotamia before settling in Gaul. 
 His departure from Rome may perhaps have been occasioned by the Gcthic invasion of Italy and Alaric's sieges of Rome, 408-410. 
 
 6 Montalembert's Monks of tlie West, Vol. I. p. 464 (Eng. Translation). The names of Hilary of ArleSj Vincent of Lerins, Salvian, 
 Eucherius of Lyons, Lupus of Troyes, and Cssarius of Aries, are alone sufficient to render the monastery of Lerins illustrious in the annals 
 of the Church of ,G-aul. 
 
PROLEGOMENA. 189 
 
 Phoenician navy, which in the time of Caesar reached as far as the sea-coast, and the myste- 
 rious obscurity of which had so terrified the Roman soldiers that the conqueror, to embolden 
 them, had himself taken an axe and struck down an old oak," 1 two monasteries were now 
 established, — one for men, built it is said over the tomb of S. Victor, a martyr in the persecu- 
 tion of Diocletian, 2 and the other for women. Cassian's long residence in the East and his 
 intimate knowledge of the monastic system in vogue in Egypt made him at once looked up 
 to as an authority, and practically as the head of the movement which was so rapidly taking 
 root in Provence; and, although his fame has been overshadowed by that of the greatest of 
 Western monks, S. Benedict of Nursia, yet his is really the credit of being, not indeed the 
 actual founder, but the first organizer and systematizer, of Western monachism : and it is 
 hoped that the copious illustrations from the Benedictine rule given in the notes to the first 
 four books of the Institutes will serve to show how much the founder of the greatest order in 
 the West was really indebted to his less-known predecessor. "He brought to bear upon the 
 organization of Gallic monasteries lessons learnt in the East. Although S. Martin and 
 others were before him, yet his life must be regarded as a new departure for monasticism in 
 the land. The religious communities of S. Martin and S. Victricius in the centre of France 
 were doubtless rudimentary and half-developed in discipline when compared with that 
 established by Cassian at Marseilles, and with the many others which speedily arose mod- 
 elled upon his elaborate rules." 3 The high estimation in which his work was held through- 
 out the Middle Ages is shown not only by the immense number of MSS. of the Institutes and 
 Conferences which still remain scattered throughout the libraries of Europe, but also by the 
 recommendation of them by Cassiodorus, and by S. Benedict himself, who enjoins that the 
 Conferences should be read daily by the monks of his order. 
 
 At Marseilles, then, Cassian settled; and here it was that he wrote his three great works, 
 — the Institutes, the Conferences, and On the Incarnation against Nestorius ; the two former 
 being written for the express purpose of encouraging and developing the monastic life. Of 
 these the Institutes was the earliest, being composed in "twelve books on the institutes of 
 the monasteries and the remedies for the eight principal faults," 4 at the request of Castor, 
 Bishop of Apta Julia, some forty miles due north of Marseilles, who was desirous of intro- 
 ducing the monastic life into his diocese, where it was still a thing unknown. 5 As Castor 
 died in 426,° and the work is dedicated to him, it must have been written some time between 
 the years 419 and 426. When it was first undertaken Cassian's design already was to follow 
 it up by a second treatise containing the Conferences of the Fathers, to which he several 
 times alludes in the Institutes as a forthcoming work, 7 and which, like the companion 
 volume, was undertaken at Castor's instigation. But, before even the first part of it was ready 
 for publication, the Bishop of Apta was dead; and thus, to Cassian's sorrow, he was unable 
 to dedicate it to him, as he had hoped to do. He therefore dedicated Conferences L— X. (the 
 first portion of the work) to Leontius, Bishop (probably) of Frejus, and Helladius, who is 
 termed " frater " in the Preface to this work, though, as we see from the Preface to Conference 
 .XVIII., he was afterwards raised to the episcopate. 8 
 
 This portion of Cassian's work must have been completed shortly after the death of 
 Castor in 426. It was speedily followed by Part II., containing Conferences XL to XVII. 
 This is dedicated to Honoratus and Eucherius, who are styled "fratres." Eucherius did 
 not become Bishop of Lyons till 434; but, as Honoratus was raised to the see of Aries in 
 426, the volume must have been published not later than that year, or he would have been 
 termed "Episcopus," as he is in the Preface to Conference XVIII. , instead of "frater." 
 
 The third and last part of the work, containing Conferences XVIII. to XXIV., is dedi- 
 cated to jovinian, Minervius, Leontius, and Theodore, who are collectively styled "fratres." 
 Leontius must, therefore, be a different person from the bishop to whom Conferences I.-X. 
 were dedicated; and nothing further is known of him, or of Minervius and Jovinian. Theo- 
 dore was afterwards raised to the Episcopate, and succeeded Leontius in the see of Frejus in 
 432. This third part of Cassian's work was ready before the death of Honoratus, Bishop of 
 
 1 Montalembert, 1. c. 
 
 1 The Acts of_S. Victor's martyrdom given by Ruinart, Acta Sincera, p. 225, have been attributed by Tillemont and others to Cassian, 
 but without sufficient reason. 
 
 3 The Church in Roman Gaul, by R. Travers Smith, p. 245. 
 
 4 This_ is the title which Cassian himself gives to the work 111 his Preface to the Conferences. 
 
 6 Institutes, Preface. 
 
 B Castor is commemorated on the twenty-first of September. See the Bollandist Acta Sanctorum, Sept. VI. 249. 
 
 7 See the Institutes II. i., ix., xviii. ; V. iv. 
 
 8 With Papa Leonti et Sancte frater Helladi, in the Preface to Conference I., compare beatissimis Episcopis Helladio ac Leontio, in 
 the Preface to Conference XVIII. 
 
190 PROLEGOMENA. 
 
 Aries, who is spoken of in the Preface as if still living; and, therefore, its publication cannot 
 be later than 428, as Honoratus died in January, 429. 
 
 Thus the whole work was completed between the years 426 and 428; and now Cassian, 
 who was growing old, was desirous of rest, feeling as if his life's work was nearly over. 1 
 But the repose which he sought was not to be granted to him, for the remaining years of his 
 life were troubled by two controversies, — the Nestorian, and the Pelagian, — or, rather, its 
 offshoot, the Semi-Pelagian. Into the history of the former of these there is no need to enter 
 here in detail. It broke out at Constantinople, where Nestorius had become bishop in suc- 
 cession to Sisinnius, in 428. The immediate occasion which gave rise to the controversy was 
 a sermon by Anastasius, the Bishop's chaplain, in which he inveighed against the title 
 Theotocos, as given to the Blessed Virgin Mary. This at once created a great sensation, as 
 Nestorius warmly supported his chaplain, and proceeded to develop the heresy connected 
 with his name, in a course of sermons. News of the controversy was brought to Egypt, and 
 Cyril of Alexandria at once entered into the fray. After some correspondence between the 
 two bishops, both parties endeavoured to gain the adherence of the Church of Rome early in 
 the year 430; and now it was that Cassian became mixed up with the dispute. Greek learn- 
 ing was evidently at a low ebb in the Roman Church at this time; 2 and it was, perhaps, 
 partly owing to Cassian's familiar acquaintance with this language, as well as owing to his 
 connexion with Constantinople, where the trouble had now arisen, that Celestine's Archdeacon 
 Leo turned to him at this crisis for help. Anyhow, whatever was the reason, an earnest 
 appeal from Rome reached him, begging him to write a refutation of the new heresy. After 
 some hesitation he consented, and the result of his labours is seen in the seven books on the 
 Incarnation against Nestorius. The work was evidently done in haste, and published in 430, 
 before the Council of Ephesus (for Cassian speaks of Nestorius throughout as still Bishop 
 of Constantinople), and, judging from the way in which Augustine is spoken of in VII. 
 xxvii., before the death of that Father, which took place in August, 430. A great part of the 
 work is occupied with Scripture proof of our Lord's Divinity and unity of Person; but, taken 
 as a whole, the treatise is distinctly of less value than Cassian's earlier writings, and betrays 
 the haste in which it was composed by the occasional use of inaccurate language on the 
 subject of the Incarnation, and of terms and phrases which the mature judgment of the 
 Church has rejected. But the writer's keen penetration is seen by the quickness with which 
 he connects the new heresy with the teaching of Pelagius, the connecting link between the 
 two being found in the errors of Leporius of Treves, who, in propagating Pelagian views of 
 man's sufficiency and strength, had applied them to the case of our Lord, not shrinking from 
 the conclusion that He was a mere man who had used his free will so well as to have lived 
 without sin, and had only been made Christ in virtue of His baptism, whereby the Divine 
 and human were associated in such manner that virtually there were two Christs. 3 The 
 connexion between Nestorian ism and Pelagian ism has often been noticed by later writers, 
 but to Cassian belongs the credit of having been the first to point it out. Of the impression 
 produced by his book we have no record. He appears to have taken no further part in the 
 controversy, which, indeed, must have been to him an episode, coming in the midst of that 
 other controversy with which his name is inseparably associated; viz., that on Semi-Pela- 
 gianism, on which something must now be said. 
 
 The controversy arose in the following way. During the struggle with Pelagianism 
 between the years 410 and 420, Augustine's views on the absolute need of grace were gradu- 
 ally hardening into a theory that grace was irresistible and therefore indefectible. " Intent 
 above all things on magnifying the Divine Sovereignty, he practically forgot the complexity' 
 of the problem in hand and failed to do justice to the human element in the mysterious pro- 
 cess of man's salvation." 4 The view of an absolute predestination irrespective of foreseen 
 character, and of the irresistible and indefectible character of grace, was put forward by him, 
 in a letter to a Roman priest, Sixtus, in the year 418. 5 Some years afterwards this letter fell 
 into the hands of the monks of Adrumetum, some of whom were puzzled by its teaching; 
 and, in order to allay the disputes among them, the matter was referred to Augustine himself. 
 Thinking that the monks had misunderstood his teaching, he not only explained the letter 
 but also wrote afresh treatise, — " De Gratia et Libero Arbitrio " (426) ; and, when that failed 
 
 1 See the Preface to the work On the hicarnation against Nestorius. 
 
 2 See the Epistle of Celestine to Nestorius in Mansi IV. 1026, in which he apologizes for delay by saying that the letter and other docu- 
 ments sent by Nestorius had had to be translated into Latin. 
 
 3 See On the Incarnation, Book I. c. ii. sq. 
 
 4 The Anti-Pelagian Treatises of S. Augustine ; with an Introduction by William Bright, D.D. (Oxford), 1S89, p. 1. 
 6 Epistle xciv. 
 
PROLEGOMENA. 191 
 
 to satisfy the malcontents, he followed it up with his work " De Correptione et Gratia" (426), 
 which, so far as the monks of Adrumetum were concerned, seems to have ended the contro- 
 versy. Elsewhere, however, hesitation was felt in going the full length of Augustine's teach- 
 ing; and, in the South of Gaul especially, many were seriously disturbed at the turn which 
 the controversy had lately taken, and were prepared to reject Augustine's teaching, as not 
 merely novel, but also practically dangerous. "They said, in effect," to quote Canon 
 Bright's lucid summary of their position, "to treat predestination as irrespective of foreseen 
 conduct, and to limit the Divine good-will to a fixed number of persons thus selected, who, 
 as such, are assured of perseverance, is not only to depart from the older theology, and from 
 the earlier teaching of the Bishop of Hippo himself, but to cut at the root of religious effort, 
 and to encourage either negligence or despair. They insisted that whatever theories might 
 be devised concerning this mystery, which was not a fit subject for popular discussion, the 
 door of salvation should be regarded as open to all, because the Saviour ' died for .all. ' To 
 explain away the Scriptural assurance was, they maintained, to falsify the Divine promise 
 and to nullify human responsibility. They believed in the doctrine of the Fall; they 
 acknowledged the necessity of real grace in order to man's restoration; they even admitted 
 that this grace must be 'prevenient ' to such acts of will as resulted in Christian good 
 works: but some of them thought — and herein consisted the error called Semi-Pelagian — 
 that nature, unaided, could take the first step towards its recovery, by desiring to be healed 
 through faith in Christ. If it could not, — if the very beginning of all gocd were strictly a 
 Divine act, — exhortations seemed to them to be idle, and censure unjust, in regard to those 
 on whom no such act had been wrought, and who, therefore, until it should be wrought, were 
 helpless, and so far guiltless, in the matter." x Of the party which took up this position 
 Cassian was the recognized head. True, he did not directly enter into the controversy him- 
 self, nor is he the author of any polemical works upon the subject; but it is impossible to 
 doubt that the thirteenth Conference, containing the teaching of Abbot Chaeremon on the 
 Protection of God, was intended to meet what he evidently regarded as a serious error; viz., 
 the implicit denial by the Augustinians of the need of effort on man's part. 
 
 Augustine was informed of the teaching of the School of Marseilles, as it was called, by 
 one Hilary (a layman, not to be confounded with his namesake, the Bishop of Aries), who 
 wrote to him two letters, of which the former is lost. The latter is still existing, and con- 
 tains a careful account of what was maintained at Marseilles. Towards the close of it 
 Hilary says that, as he was pressed for time, he had prevailed upon a friend to write as well, 
 and would attach his letter to his own. This friend was Prosper of Aquitaine, also a layman 
 and an ardent Augustinian, whose epistle has been preserved as well as Hilary's. 2 From these 
 letters, and from the works which Augustine wrote in reply, we learn that the " Massilians " 
 had been first disturbed by some of Augustine's earlier writings, as the Epistle to Paulinus; 
 and that their distrust of his teaching on the subjects of Grace, Predestination, and Freewill 
 had been increased by the receipt of his work "De Correptione et Gratia," although in other 
 matters they agreed with him entirely, and were great admirers of his. 8 Personally, they are 
 spoken of with great respect as men of no common virtue, and of wide influence ; and, though 
 Cassian's name is never mentioned in the correspondence, yet it is easy to read between the 
 lines and see that he is referred to. 4 
 
 Augustine replied to his correspondents by writing what proved to be almost his latest 
 works, — the treatises "De Prasdestinatione Sanctorum" and " De dono Perseverantiae." In 
 these volumes Augustine, while freely acknowledging the great difference between his oppo- 
 nents and the Pelagians, yet maintained as strongly as ever his own position, and " did not 
 abate an iota of the contention that election and rejection were arbitrary, and that salvation 
 was not really within the reach of all Christians." 5 Thus the books naturally failed to satisfy 
 the recalcitrant party, or to convince those who thought that the denial of the freedom of 
 the will tended to destroy man's responsibility. Prosper, however, was delighted with the 
 treatises, and proceeded to follow them up with a work of his own, a poem of a thousand lines, 
 
 1 Anti-Pelagian Treatises, p. Hv., lv. 
 
 2 Epp. ccxxv., ccxxvi., in the correspondence of S. Augustine. Works, Vol. II. S20, in the Benedictine Edition. 
 
 ^ Cassian himself quotes Augustine as an authority for the Catholic doctrine of the Incarnation in his work against Nestorius, VII. 
 xxvn. But it is remarkable that, whereas on all the other authorities quoted (Hilary, Ambrose, Jerome, Rufinus, Gregory, Nazianzen, 
 Athanasius, and Chrysostom) a high encomium is passed, Augustine alone is alluded to with no words of praise, being simply spoken of 
 as priest (sacerdos) of Hippo Regius. There is no authority for the reading " magnus sacerdos," found in the editions of Cuyck and Gazet, 
 which misled Neander. Ch. Hist. Vol. IV. p. 376, E. T. 
 
 The only person referred to by name is Hilary, who had just succeeded Honoratus as Bishop of Aries. This fixes the date of the 
 correspondence as 429. 
 
 6 Bright's A nti- Pelagian Treatises, 1. c. 
 
192 PROLEGOMENA. 
 
 "De Ingratis," by which he designates the Pelagians and Semi-Pelagians, whose opinions he 
 speaks of as spreading with alarming rapidity. The date of this publication was probably the 
 early part of 430. It was certainly written before the death of Augustine, which took place 
 on August 28 of the same year. The removal from this life of the great champion of Grace 
 did not bring to an end the controversy to which his writings had given birth. The school 
 of Marseilles continued to propagate its views with unabated vigour, in spite of the protests of 
 Prosper and Hilary, who finally took the important step of appealing to Pope Celestine, from 
 whom they succeeded in obtaining a letter addressed to the Gallican Bishops, Venerius of 
 Marseilles, Leontius of Frejus, Marinus, Auxonius, Arcadius, Filtanius, and the rest. 1 Ce- 
 lestine speaks strongly of their negligence in not having suppressed what he regarded as a 
 public scandal, and says that "priests ought not to teach so as to invade the episcopal pre- 
 rogative," an expression in which we may well see an allusion to Cassian, the leading presbyter, 
 of the diocese of Marseilles, whose Bishop is named first in the opening salutation; and 
 the letter concludes with some words of eulogium on Augustine u of holy memory.'' Never, 
 perhaps, was Gallican independence shown in a more striking manner than in the sturdy way 
 in which the Massilians clung to their views in spite of the authority of the Pope now brought 
 to bear upon them. Prosper and Hilary on their return found the obnoxious teaching daily 
 spreading, so that the former of them finally determined to put down, if possible, the upholders 
 of the objectionable tenets by a direct criticism of Cassian's Conferences. This was the ori- 
 gin of Prosper's work " Contra Collatorem," against the author of the Conferences, a treatise of 
 considerable power and force, although not scrupulously fair. 2 The respect in which Cassian 
 was held is strikingly shown by the fact that his antagonist never once names him directly, 
 but merely speaks of him as a man of priestly rank who surpassed all his companions in 
 power of arguing. The work consists of an examination of the thirteenth Conference, that 
 of Abbot Chasremon, on the Protection of God, from which Prosper extracts twelve proposi- 
 tions, the first of which "he says is orthodox while all the others are erroneous 3 . He concludes 
 
 1 The letter is given in full in Gazet's edition of Cassian, with certain doctrinal articles appended, which really belong to a later date. 
 See Dr. Newman's note to the English translation of Fleury, Book. XXV I. c. xi. 
 
 2 The treatise is given in Gazet's edition of Cassian. 
 
 3 The propositions extracted by Prosper are the following : — 
 
 (1) That the initiative not only of our actions but also of our good thoughts comes from God, who inspires us with a good will to begin 
 with, and supplies us with the opportunity of carrying out what we rightly desire ; for " every good gift and every perfect gift cometb down 
 from above, from the Father of light," who both begins what is good, and continues it and completes it in us. c. iii. This proposition 
 Prosper allows to be catholic and orthodox. 
 
 (2) The Divine protection is inseparably present with us, and so great is the kindness of the Creator towards His creatures that His 
 Providence not only accompanies it, but even constantly precedes it, as the prophet experienced and plainly confessed, saying, " My God 
 will prevent me with His mercy." And when He sees in us some beginnings of a good will, He at once enlightens and strengthens it, and 
 urges it on towards salvation, increasing that which He Himself implanted, or which He sees to have arisen from our own efforts, c. viii. 
 
 (3) Only in all these there is a declaration of the grace of God and the freedom of the will, because even of his own motion a man can 
 be led to the quest of virtue, but always stands in need of the help of the Lord. For neither does any one enjoy good health whenever he 
 likes, nor is he of his own will and pleasure set free from disease and sickness, c. ix. 
 
 (4) That it may be still clearer that, through the excellence of nature, which is granted by the goodness of the Creator, sometimes the 
 first beginnings of a good will arise, which, however, cannot attain to the complete performance of what is good unless they are guided 
 by the Lord, the apostle bears witness, and says, " For to will is present with me, but to perform what is good I find not." lb. 
 
 (5) And so these are somehow mixed up and indiscriminately confused, so that, among many persons, the question which depends upon 
 the other is involved in great difficulty; i.e., does God have compassion upon us because we have shown the beginning of a good will, or 
 does the beginning of a good will follow because God has had compassion upon us ? For many, believing each of these alternatives, and 
 asserting them more broadly than is right, are entangled in all kinds of opposite errors. For if we say that the beginning of free will is in 
 our own power, what about Paul the persecutor, what about Matthew the publican, of whom the one was drawn to salvation while eager 
 for bloodshed and the punishment of the innocent, the other while eager for violence and rapine? But, if we say that the beginning of our 
 free will is always due to the inspiration of the grace of God, what about the faith of Zacchaeus, or what are we to say of the goodness of 
 the thief on the cross, who by their own desires brought violence to bear on the kingdom of heaven, and prevented the special leadings of 
 their vocation ? c. xi. 
 
 (6) These two, then, viz., the grace of God and Free-will, seem opposed to each other, but really are in harmony ; and we gather from, 
 natural piety that we ought to have both alike, lest if we withdraw one of them from men we should seem to have broken the rule of the 
 Church's faith. lb. . 
 
 (7) Adam, therefore, after the fall, conceived a knowledge of evil which he had not previously, but did not lose the knowledge of good 
 which lie already possessed, c. xii. 
 
 (S) Wherefore we must take care not to refer all the merits of the saints to the Lord in such a way as to ascribe nothing but what is evil 
 and perverse to human nature. lb. 
 
 (9) It cannot be doubted that there are by nature some seeds of goodness implanted by the kindness of the Creator, but unless they are 
 quickened by the assistance of God they cannot attain an increase of perfection. lb. 
 
 (10) And for this, too, we read that in the case of Job, his well-tried athlete, when the Devil had challenged him to single combat, the 
 Divine righteousness had made provision. For, if he had advanced against his foe not with his own strength, but solely with the protection 
 of God's grace, and, supported only by Divine aid, without any virtue of patience on his own part, had borne that manifold weight of tempta- 
 tions and losses, contrived with all the cruelty of his foe might not the Devil have repeated with some justice that slanderous speech which 
 he had previously uttered, " Doth Job serve God for nought? Hast Thou not hedged him in, and all his substance round about? But 
 take away thine hand," ie., allow him to fight with me in his own strength, " and he will curse Thee to Thy face." But, as after the 
 struggle the slanderous foe dared not give vent to any such murmur as this, he admitted that he was vanquished by his (i.e., Job's) strength, 
 and not by that of God: although, too, we must not hold that the grace of God was altogether wanting to him, which gave to the tempter a 
 power of tempting in proportion to that which he had of resisting, c. xiv. 
 
 (11) The Lord marvelled at him (viz., the centurion), and praised him, and put him before all those of the people of Israel who had 
 believed, saying, "Verily, I say unto you, I have not found so great faith in Israel." For there would have been no ground for praise or 
 merit if Christ had only preferred in him what He Himself had given. lb. 
 
 (12) Hence it comes that in our prayers we proclaim God as not only our protector and Saviour, but actually as our helper and sponsor. 
 For whereas He first calls us to Him, and while we are still ignorant and unwilling draws us towards salvation, He is our protector and 
 
PROLEGOMENA. 193 
 
 by warning his antagonist of the danger of Pelagianism, and expresses a hope that his doctrine 
 may be condemned by Pope Sixtus as it had been by Celestine and his predecessors. The 
 last statement fixes the date of the book as not earlier than 432 ; for Celestine only died in 
 April in that year. 
 
 Cassian was evidently still living when this attack upon him was made; but, so far as we 
 know, he made no reply to it. Its publication is the last event in his life of which we have 
 any knowledge. He probably died shortly afterwards, as the expression used by Gennadius 
 in speaking of his work against Nestorius would seem to imply that it preceded his death by 
 no long interval ; for he says that with this he brought to a close his literary labours and his 
 life in the reign of Theodosius and Valentinian. 1 
 
 The controversy on Grace and Freewill lingered on for nearly a century longer, and was 
 only finally disposed of by the wise moderation shown by Caesarius of Aries and those who 
 acted with him at the Council of Orange (Arausio), in the year 529. 2 
 
 While it cannot be denied that the teaching of Cassian and his school in denying the 
 necessity of initial and prevenient grace is erroneous and opens a door at which Pelagianism 
 may easily creep in, yet it was an honest attempt to vindicate human responsibility; and it 
 must be frankly admitted that the teaching of Augustine was one-sided and required to be 
 balanced: nor would the question have ever been brought into prominence had it not been 
 for the hard and rigorous way in which the doctrine of Predestination was taught, and the 
 denial that the possibility of salvation lay within the reach of all men. While, then, it is 
 granted that a verdict of guilty must be returned on the charge of Semi-Pelagianism in Cas- 
 sian's case, we are surely justified in claiming that a recommendation to mercy be attached 
 to it on the plea of extenuating circumstances. Since his death Cassian has ever occupied a 
 somewhat ambiguous position in the mind of the Church. Never formally canonized, his 
 name is not found in the Calendars of the West; nor is he honoured with the title of " Saint." 
 He is, however, generally spoken of as " the blessed Cassian," holding in this respect the 
 same position as Theodoret, of whom Dr. Newman says that, though he "has the responsi- 
 bility of acts which have forfeited to him that oecumenical dignity," yet he is "not without 
 honorary title in the Church's hagiology; for he has ever been known as the ' blessed Theo- 
 doret. ' " 3 In the East Cassian's position is somewhat better. He is there regarded as a saint, 
 and may possibly be intended by the Cassian who is commemorated on February 29. 4 It is 
 only natural that this difference should be made, for the Eastern Church has always held a 
 milder view of the effect of the Fall than that which has been current in the West since the 
 days of Augustine ; and, indeed, Cassian, in making his protest againt the rising tide of Augus- 
 tinianism, was in the main only handing on the teaching which he had received from his 
 Eastern instructors. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF CASSIAN'S WRITINGS, MSS., AND EDITIONS. 
 
 The literary history of Cassian's works is not without an interest of its own. We have 
 already seen the estimation in which they were held in spite of their Semi-Pelagian doctrines. 
 These were naturally accounted a blemish, and it is not surprising that those who most 
 admired their excellences were anxious to avoid propagating their errors. Hence they were 
 often "expurgated," and in many MSS. the text has suffered considerably from the changes 
 made by copyists in the interests of orthodoxy. As early as the fifth century we find two 
 revised versions of portions of his works existing. His friend Eucherius, Bishop of Lyons, 
 
 Saviour; but whereas, when we are already striving, He is wont to bring us help, and to receive and defend those who fly to Him for refuge, 
 He is deemed our sponsor and refuge, c. xvii. 
 
 This last extract is in itself perfectly orthodox, and might be thought merely to express the distinction between "preventing" and 
 'co-operating" grace; but the context makes it clear that Cassian means that in some cases grace "prevents," while in others the initial 
 movement towards salvation comes from man, and grace is only needed to " co-operate." 
 
 1 Gennadius, in Catal., c. lxii. Ad extremum rogatus a Leone Archidiacono, posteaurbis Roma Episcopo, scripsit adversus Nestorium 
 De Incarnatione Domini " libros septem, et in his scribendi apud Massiliam et vivendi finem fecit Theodosio et Valentiniano regnantibus. 
 
 The local commemoration of Cassian is on July 23. 
 
 2 On the history of Semi-Pelagianism see 'Brighl's, Anti-Pelagum Treatises of S. Augustine, Introd.,pp. xlix.-lxviii., and the Christian 
 Remembrancer, Vol. XXXI. pp. 155-162. 
 
 3 Historical Sketches, Vol. III., p. 307. 
 
 4 The identification is anything but certain, for though there is no difficulty in the term 'Pwftalos, as that is also applied to our author 
 by Photius, yet the additional statement made in the Horologion, that he was originally o-rpaTnoTiKo? Tt\v xafii', suggests that a different 
 person is alluded to, possibly the same as the Cassian commemorated in the Roman martyrology on August 13. 
 
 A list of some twenty-five churches where Cassian is honoured as a saint is given in Guesnay's Cassianus Illustratus. 
 
194 PROLEGOMENA. 
 
 was the author of an epitome of the Institutes, which still exists; 1 and although this was 
 compiled for convenience' sake because of the length of the original work, rather than from 
 any suspicion of his teaching, the case is different with a recension made for use in Africa 
 by Victor, Bishop of Martyrites. This is no longer extant, but Cassiodorus distinctly tells us 
 that it was made in the interests of orthodoxy by means of expurgation as well as addition of 
 what was wanting. 2 Yet another epitome of three of the Conferences (I., II., VII.) was made 
 at some time before the tenth century. It was translated into Greek, and known to Photius, 
 who speaks 3 of three works of Cassian as translated into Greek: viz., (i) an Epitome of the 
 Institutes, Books I. -IV. ; (2) Epitome of the Institutes, Books V.-XII. ; and (3) one of the 
 Conferences I., II., VII. 
 
 Thus in very early days the fashion was set of expurgating and emending the writings of 
 Cassian; and Leuwis de Ryckel, better known as Dionysius Carthusianus, might have quoted 
 several precedents for his method of dealing with the text. This famous divine, — the doctor 
 exstaticus of the fifteenth century, — shocked as others had been before him at the Semi-Pela- 
 gianism of the Conferences, and yet sensible of their real value in spite of sundry blemishes, 
 took in hand to correct them, and gave to the world a free paraphrase both of the Institutes 
 and of the Conferences, in a somewhat simple style and one more easy to be understood than 
 the original. The greatest alterations, as might be expected, are visible in the thirteenth 
 Conference ; as Dionysius, in his endeavour to make Cassian orthodox, omits all that savours 
 of Semi-Pelagianism; and from c. viii. onward there are large omissions and various sugges- 
 tive alterations in the text. 4 
 
 Incidental mention has been already made of the esteem in which the Institutes and 
 Conferences were held by S. Benedict and Cassiodorus. In the Rule of the former (c. xlii.) 
 it is ordered that after supper the brethren should assemble together, and one of them 
 should read the Conferences, or Lives of the Fathers, or any other book calculated to edify. 
 And again, in the closing chapter of the same rule, the study of them is recommended to those 
 who are desirous of perfection ; for " what are the Conferences of the Fathers, the Institutes, 
 and the lives of them; what, too, the Rule of our holy father, S. Basil, but examples of 
 virtuous and obedient monks, and helps to the attainment of virtue? " Equally strong is the 
 recommendation of Cassiodorus : " Sedulo legite, frequenter audite; " but at the same time 
 he reminds his readers that Cassian was very properly censured by Prosper for his teaching on 
 Freewill, and that, therefore, he is to be read with caution whenever he touches on this subject. 
 With testimonies such as these to their value it is no wonder that copies were rapidly multi- 
 plied, so that scarcely a monastery was without a copy of some part of them; and existing 
 MSS. of the Institutes and Conferences are very numerous. But none of the oldest MSS. 
 contain the complete work. The Institutes were often regarded as made up of two separate 
 treatises, — (1) the Institutes of the Coenobia, containing Books I. -IV., and (2) On the 
 Eight Principal Faults, comprising Books V.-XII. So, too, with the Conferences, and their 
 three divisions: they are often found separately in different MSS. 
 
 The MSS. being so numerous, it was found impossible to collate them all for the latest 
 edition of Cassian's works; viz., that edited by Petschenig for the Vienna Corpus Scriptorum 
 Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum. The Editor therefore confined his attention to a limited num- 
 ber, of which the following is the list. 
 
 I. The Institutes. 
 
 1. Codex Casinensis Rescriptus, 295. A Palimpsest with the Epistles of S. Jerome written over Cassian's 
 work. The date of this MS. is the seventh or eighth century, and it contains portions only of the Institutes, 
 nothing remaining of Books I.— IV., or of VIII. and IX. 
 
 2. Codex Majoris Seminarii CEduensis (Autun), 24. Seventh century, containing portions of Books V.-XII. 
 
 3. Caroliruhensis, 87. Eighth century, containing all twelve books. 
 
 4. Sangallensis, 183. Ninth century. 
 
 5. Parisinus, 12292. Tenth century. 
 
 6. Laudunensis (Laon), 328 bis. Ninth century. 
 
 7. Caroliruhensis, 164. Ninth century. 
 
 1 Gennadius, Catal. lxiv. In the Dictionary of Christian Antiguities, art. Eucherius, this is said to be lost. But see Migne, Vol. L. 
 p. S67 sg ; and cf. Petschenig's Introduction to Cassian, p. xcvi. 
 
 2 _ Div. Lect. c. xxix. Cujus (Cassiani) dicta Victor Mattaritanus Episcopus Afer ita Domino juvante purgavit et quse minus erant 
 addidit ut ei rerum istarum palma merito couferatur : quem inter alios de Africa parlibus cito nobis credimus esse dirigendum. 
 
 3 Bibiioth, Cod. 197. 
 
 4 The " Doctrina Catholica Beati Dionysii Richelii Carthusiani precedenti Collationi ab ipso substituta," given in Gazet's edition, 
 and hence in Migne's, as c. xix.,'is only the latter part of the paraphrase of this Conference, beginning in c. viii., with the words, " Adest 
 igiiur inseparabititer nobis," etc. 
 
 The paraphrase may be found in Vol. III. of the edition of the works of Dionysius, published at Cologne in 1540. Of this there is a 
 copy in the British Museum which was formerly in the possession of Archbishop Cranmer, and which still contains his autograph. 
 
PROLEGOMENA. 195 
 
 II. Conferences I.-X. 
 
 1. Vaticanus, 5766. Eighth century. 
 
 2. Parisinus, Bibl. Nat., 13384. Ninth century. 
 
 3. Vercellensis (Chapter Library), 187, 44. Cent. S-10. 
 
 4. Parisinus. Bibl. Nat. nouv. fonds, 2170. Ninth century. This (with a few lacunae) contains all the Con- 
 ferences, being the only one* of Petschenig's MSS. of which this can be said. 
 
 5. Vaticanus, Bibl. Palat., 560. Tenth century. 
 
 6. Sangallensis, 574. Cent. 9-10. n 
 
 Of these MSS. the last two contain many errors and interpolations, some of which are followed in the editions 
 of Cassian published at Basle, 1485-1495. 
 
 III. Conferences XI.-XVII. 
 
 1. Sessorianus (Rome), 55. Cent. 7-8. 
 
 2. Petropolitanus, Bibl. Imp. O. 1, 4. Seventh or eighth century. 
 
 3. Sangallensis, 576. Ninth century. 
 
 4. Parisinus, Bibl. Nat. nouv. fonds., 2170 (as above). 
 
 5. Vindobonensis, 397. Tenth century. This Vienna MS. contains Prosper's work Contra Collatorem, the 
 passages of Cassian being written in the margin. 
 
 IV. Conferences XVIII.-XXIV. 
 
 1. Monacensis, 4549. Cent. 8-9. 
 
 2. Monacensis, 6343. Ninth century. 
 
 3. Parisinus, Bibl. Nat. nouv. fonds., 2170 (as above). 
 
 4. Vaticanus, Bibl. Regina2 Suecise, 140. Cent. 9-10. 
 
 5. Caroliruhensis, 92. Ninth century. 
 
 6. Sangallensis, 575. Ninth century. 
 
 Passing now from the Institutes and Conferences to the work "On the Incarnation 
 against Nestorius," we are no longer encumbered by the number of MSS. There was not the, 
 same reason for the multiplication of copies of it as there was in the case of those writings 
 which bore on the monastic life. It appears never to have obtained any special popularity, 
 and, so far as is known, only seven MSS. of it are still in existence. The following are those 
 of which Petschenig made use for his edition : — 
 
 1. Codex Bibl. Armentarii Parisiensis (Bibl. de l'Arsenal), 483. Cent. 10-11. 
 
 2. British Museum addl., 16414. Cent. 11-12. 
 
 3. Parisinus, Bibl. Nat., 14860. Thirteenth century. 
 
 4. Bibl. Coloniensium Augustinianorum. This MS. is now lost, but was used by Cuyck for his edition of 
 Cassian, and from this Petschenig is able to give selected readings. 
 
 The remaining MSS. known to exist, but not used by Petschenig, are these: — 
 
 Matritensis, Bibl. Nat., Q. 106. Twelfth century. 
 
 Laurentianus (Laurentian Library at Florence), XXVI., 13. Fifteenth century. 
 Bibl. Leop. Medici Foesulana? (also at Florence), 48. Fifteenth century. 
 Parisinus, 2143. Fourteenth century. 1 
 
 It only remains to give some account of the various editions of the printed text. 
 
 It has generally been stated that the earliest edition of the Institutes was that printed at 
 Venice in 1481, of which only a single copy is known to exist, viz., in the Laurentian Library 
 at Florence; and that the first edition which included the Conferences was that published by 
 Amerbach at Basle in 1485. This statement, however, appears to be erroneous, as there still 
 exists in the British Museum a single copy of a very early black-letter edition of the Confer- 
 ences. The title-page is gone, and there is no colophon ; and, therefore, the date cannot be 
 given with certainty, but the work is assigned by the authorities of the Museum to the year 
 1476, and is thought to have proceeded from the press of the Brothers of the Common life at 
 Brussels. The first page of the work begins as follows: "Ut Valeas cor in opere isto citius 
 invenire qd requiris hsec tibi concapitulatio breviter demostrabit quis unde in singulis col- 
 lationibus disputaverit." Then follows a list of the twenty-four Conferences with their 
 authors, and the page ends with these words : " Prologus cassiani sup. collationes patru ad 
 leontiu etelladiu epos. In nomine Domini ihu cristi dei nostri feliciter. " 
 
 This, then, in all probability was the first edition of the Latin text of the Conferences. But 
 it is a curious fact that at a still earlier date a free German translation or paraphrase of them 
 had already been published. This, like the work just mentioned, has been overlooked by all 
 the editors of Cassian, but two copies of it still remain in the British Museum, beginning as 
 follow: " Hie liber a quodam egregio sacrarum literarum professore magistro Johane Nide 
 ordis pdicatorum fratre de latino in vulgarem Nuremberge translatus est." The colophon 
 
 1 On all these MSS. see Petschenig's introduction, Cassian, VoL I. pp. xiv.-lxxviii. 
 
196 PROLEGOMENA. 
 
 in one copy gives the date as 1472, and the place at which it was printed as Augsberg. The 
 other copy has no date but is assigned by the authorities of the Museum to a still earlier 
 year; viz., 1470. 
 
 The Basle edition of 1485 was reprinted at the press of Amerbach in 1497 ; and at Venice 
 there was issued a second edition of the Institutes, to which the Conferences were added, in 
 1491. 1 Subsequent early editions are those of Lyons, in 15 16 and 1525, and Bologna 1521. 
 But not till 1534 were the seven books on the Incarnation against Nestorius published. They 
 appear for the first time in the edition which was issued in this year from the press of Cra- 
 tander at Basle. 
 
 Far superior to all these early editions, which were very faulty, was that published by 
 Christopher Plantin at Antwerp in 1578, edited by H. Cuyck, Professor at Louvain and after- 
 ward Bishop of Ruremonde. It was undertaken at the suggestion of Cardinal Carafa, and its 
 full title is the following: "D. Ioannis Cassiani Eremitae Monasticarum Institutionum libri 
 IIII. De Capitalibus vitiis libri VIII. Collationes SS. Patrum XXIIII. De Verbi Incar- 
 natione libri VII. Nunc demum post varias editiones ad complurium MS. fidem a non pancis 
 mendarum milibus incredibili labore expurgati: id quod ex subiectis ad calcem castiga- 
 tionibus facile cognosci poterit: additis etiam ad quaedam loca censoriis notationibus, et 
 obscurarum vocum ac sententiarun elucidatione, un a cum duobus Indicibus locupletissimis. 
 Accesserunt quoque Regulae SS. Patrum ex antiquissimo Affliginiensis monasterii MS. 
 codice desumptie. Opera et studio Henrici Cuyckii Sacrae Theologian Licentiati." 
 
 Cuyck' s work was supplemented, also at Carafa's desire, by Petrus Ciacconius, a priest of 
 Toledo, who died in 1581, before it was ready for the press. A new edition was, however, pub- 
 lished at Rome in 1588 "ex Edibus Dominica? Basae," in which the notes and emendations 
 of Ciacconius were embodied. Unfortunately this edition does not contain the books on the 
 Incarnation. Its full title is as follows: "Ioannis Cassiani Eremitae de institutis renuntian- 
 tium Libri XII. Collationes Sanctorum Patrum XXIIII. Adiectae sunt quarundam obscura- 
 rum dictionum interpretationes ordine alphabeti dispositas: et observationes in loca ambigua 
 et minus tuta. Prasterea Indices duo testimoniorum sacrae Scripturae, quae a Cassiano vel 
 explicantur, vel aliter quam vulgata editio habet, citantur: ac postremo verum memorabi- 
 lium Index copiosissimus. Accedit Regula S. Pachomii, quae a S. Hieronymo in Latinum 
 sermonem conversa est: Omnia multo quam antehac, auxilio vetustissimorum codicum, emen- 
 datiora, et ad suam integritatem restituta." This edition, as well as the previous one, con- 
 tained a dissertation on a number of passages (some thirty in all) of doubtful orthodoxy, in 
 order to put the reader on his guard against following Cassian in his errors. 
 
 In 1616 there was published at Douay in two volumes what has remained until the present 
 day the standard edition of Cassian's works, prepared with loving care by a Benedictine 
 monk of the Abbey of St. Vaast at Arras, named Gazet. This edition is enriched throughout 
 with copious annotations, containing an immense amount of illustrative matter; and besides the 
 text of Cassian's works it contains several other documents of importance for a right under- 
 standing of them: The full title is this: "Ioannis Cassiani presbyteri, quern alii eremitam, 
 alii abbatem nuncupant, opera omnia. Novissime recognita, repurgata et notis amplissi- 
 mis illustrata. Quibus accessere alia ejusdem argumenti opuscula, quorum elenchum sequens 
 pagina exhibebit. Studio et opera D. Alardi Gazaei ccenobitaa Vedastini ord. Benedicti." 
 
 Besides the Institutes, Conferences, and the work on the Incarnation against Nestorius, 
 these volumes contained the following among other material : — 
 
 The Rule of St. Pachomius. 
 
 The Catholic doctrine substituted for the latter part of Conference XIII. by Dionysius 
 Carthusianus. 
 
 Prosper "Contra Collatorem." 
 
 This edition has been frequently reprinted, 2 some of the later reprints containing still 
 more illustrative material. It still remains indispensable to the student of Cassian's works 
 by reason of the valuable commentary with which it is throughout enriched. But for the mere 
 text it is now altogether superseded by the fine edition prepared by Petschenig for the Vienna 
 Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum, in two volumes. 
 
 Vol. I. — Ioannis Cassiani De Institutis Ccenobiorum et de octo Principalium Vitiorum 
 Remediis Libri XII. De Incarnatione Domini Contra Nestorium Libri VII. recensuit et 
 commentario critico instruxit Michael Petschenig. Accedunt Prolegomena et Indices (Vin- 
 dobonae, 1888). 
 
 1 Of this edition there is a copy in the British Museum which formerly belonged to the Convent of S. Mark at Florence, and is enriched 
 with marginal notes in the handwriting of Girolamo Savonarola. 
 
 2 Gazet himself prepared a revised edition, which was brought out after his death, at Arras, in 162S. 
 
PROLEGOMENA. 197 
 
 Vol. II. — Ioannis Cassiani Conlationes XXIIII. (Vindobonae, 1886). Petschenig's work 
 is admirably done, and the text of this edition is vastly superior to that of all its predeces- 
 sors. In the present translation it has been used throughout the Conferences. The volume 
 containing the Institutes and the work on the Incarnation unfortunately appeared too late for 
 the translation to be made from it. It has, however, been carefully compared with the text of 
 Ciacconius, which Gazet merely repeats, 1 and attention is called to the chief variations in 
 the notes. 
 
 Mention has already been made of the early German paraphrase or translation, dating from 
 1470 or 1472; and the popularity of the Cassian's works is evinced by the number of other 
 early translations made into the various languages of Europe. Of these next in order of time 
 is one in Flemish. In the copy of this in the British Museum the title is wanting, the book 
 beginning as follows : " Hier beghint der ouder vader collacie. Hi hyetede Ioannes Cassianus 
 die dese vieretwintich navolgende vad, collacien ghemaect hevet. " The colophon is this: 
 " Hier eyndet een seer goede en profitelike leeringhe. En is ghenoemt der ouder vaders col- 
 lacien. Michiel hiller van Hoochstraten. Tantwerpen 1506. fol." 
 
 Very little later is the first of several French translations, with the following curious title : 
 " Les Collacions des sains Peres anciens translateez de Grec en latin. Par Cassiodorus tres 
 sainct docteur en theologie et translateez de latin en francoys par maistre ieha gosein aussy 
 docteur en theologie de l'ordre des freres de la Montaigne du carme et imprimees nouvelle- 
 ment a paris." No date is given, but the work is assigned by the Museum authorities to the 
 year 15 10. 
 
 Later French translations are the following: — 
 
 Paris. Chez Charles Savreux. 8° les Confe'rences de Cassien traduites en francois par 
 De Saligny. 1663. (This edition altogether omits the thirteenth Conference.) 
 
 Paris, Chez Charles Savreux. 8° les Institutions de Cassien traduites en francois par 
 De Saligny. 1667. 
 
 Institutions de Cassien traduites par E. Cartier. Paris, Tours, 1872. 
 
 There are also two Italian translations, one as early as 1563 (Opera. Tradottaper B. Buffi. 
 Venetia. 1563. 4 ), and one of the present century, — Volgarizzamento delle collazioni dei 
 SS. Padri del venerabile G. C. [By Bartolommeo da San Concordio?] Testo di lingua in 
 edito [edited by T. Bini]. Lucca. 1854. 8°. 
 
 It is remarkable that England has till now stood almost alone in possessing no transla- 
 tion, Cassian's works having never yet appeared in an English press. It is hoped that the 
 version now offered to the reader may do something to make the works of this interesting and 
 most instructive writer more widely known than they appear to be at present. 
 
 1 The edition used is that published at Leipsic in 1733. It cannot, however, be recommended, as it is full of misprints. 
 

PREFACE. 
 
 The history of the Old Testament tells us that the most wise Solomon received from 
 heaven "wisdom and understanding exceeding much, and largeness of heart even as the sand 
 that is on the seashore that cannot be counted; " 1 so that by the Lord's testimony we may say 
 that no one either has arisen in time past equal to him or will arise after him : and afterward, 
 when wishing to raise that magnificent temple to the Lord, we are told that he asked the help 
 of a foreigner, the king of Tyre. And when there was sent to him one Hiram, the son of a 
 widow woman, 2 it was by his means and ministration that he executed all the glorious things 
 which he devised by the suggestion of the Divine wisdom either for the temple of the Lord or 
 for the sacred vessels. If, then, that power that was higher than all the kingdoms of the earth, 
 and that noble and illustrious scion of the race of Israel, and that divinely inspired wisdom 
 which excelled the training and customs of all the Easterns and Egyptians, by no means 
 disdained the advice of a poor man and a foreigner, rightly also do you, most blessed Pope 8 
 Castor, taught by these examples, deign to call in me, a worthless creature though I am, 
 and in every respect as poor as possible, to a share in so great a work. When you are plan- 
 ning to build a true and reasonable temple for God, not with inanimate stones but with a 
 congregation of saints, and no temporal or corruptible building, but one that is eternal and 
 cannot be shaken; and desiring also to consecrate to the Lord mcst precious vessels not forged 
 of dumb 4 metal, of gold or silver, which a Babylonish monarch may afterwards take and devote 
 to the pleasures of his concubines and princes, 5 but fashioned of holy souls which shine with 
 the uprightness of innocence, righteousness, and purity, and bear about Christ abiding in 
 themselves as King; — since, then, you are anxious that the institutions of the East and 
 especially of Egypt should be established in your province, which is at present without mon- 
 asteries, although you are yourself perfect in all virtues and knowledge and so filled with all 
 spiritual riches that not only your talk but even your life alone is amply sufficient for an 
 example to those who are seeking perfection, — ■ yet you ask me, not knowing what to say, and 
 feeble in speech and knowledge, to contribute something from the scanty supply of my 
 thoughts toward the satisfaction of your desire; and you charge me to declare, although with 
 inexpert pen, the customs of the monasteries which we have seen observed throughout Egypt 
 and Palestine, as they were there delivered to us by the Fathers; not looking for graceful 
 speech, in which you yourself are especially skilled, but wanting the simple life of holy men to 
 be told in simple language to the brethren in your new monastery. But in proportion as a 
 dutiful desire of granting your request urges me to obey, so do manifold difficulties and 
 embarrassments deter me when wishing to comply. First, because my merits are not so pro- 
 portioned to my age as .for me to trust that I can worthily comprehend with my mind and 
 heart matters so difficult, so obscure, and so sacred. Secondly, because that which we either 
 tried to do or learnt or saw when from our earliest youth we lived among them and were 
 urged on by their daily exhortations and examples, — this we can scarcely retain in its entirety 
 when we have been for so many years withdrawn from intercourse with them and from fol- 
 lowing their mode of life; especially as the method of these things cannot possibly be taught 
 or understood or kept in the memory by idle meditation and verbal teaching, for it depends 
 entirely "upon experience and practice. And, as these things cannot be taught save by one 
 
 1 Kings iv. 29. . * lb. vii. 13. 
 
 3 Papa.. The title was at an early period confined to bishops in the West, but was not limited to the Bishop of Rome till a later date. 
 
 4 Petschenig's text reads muto. Another reading is multo. 
 B Cf. Dan. v. 2. 
 
 6 Castor, at whose request this work was written, was Bishop of Apta Julia in Gallia Narbonensis. 
 
 199 
 
200 PREFACE. 
 
 who has had experience of them, so they cannot even be learnt or understood except by one 
 who has tried with equal care and pains to grasp them; while, unless they are often discussed 
 and well worn in frequent conferences with spiritual men, they quickly fade away through 
 carelessness of mind. Thirdly, because a discourse that is lacking in skill cannot properly 
 expound those things which we can' recall to mind, not as the things themselves deserve, but 
 as our condition allows us. To this it must be added that on this very subject men who were 
 noble in life and eminent for speech and knowledge have already put forth several little books, 
 I mean Basil and Jerome, and some others, the former of whom, when the brethren asked 
 about various rules and questions, replied in language that was not only eloquent but rich in 
 testimonies from Holy Scripture; while the latter not only published works that were the off- 
 spring of his own genius, but also translated into Latin works that had been written in Greek. 1 
 And, after such abundant streams of eloquence, I might not unfairly be accused of presumption 
 for trying to produce this feeble rill, were it not that the confidence of your holiness encour- 
 aged me, and the assurance that these trifles would be acceptable to you, whatever they were 
 like, and that you would send them to the congregation of the brethren dwelling in your newly 
 founded monastery. And if by chance I have said anything without sufficient care, may they 
 kindly overlook it and endure it with a somewhat indulgent pardon, asking rather for trust- 
 worthiness of speech than for grace of style on my part. Wherefore, most blessed Pope, remark- 
 able example of religion and humility, encouraged by your prayers, I will to the best of my 
 ability approach the work which you enjoin; and those matters which were altogether left 
 untouched by those who preceded us, since they endeavoured to describe what they had heard 
 rather than what they had experienced, these things I will tell as to an inexperienced mon- 
 astery, and to men who are indeed 2 athirst. Nor certainly shall I try to weave a tale of 
 God's miracles and signs, although we have not only heard of many such among our elders, 
 and those past belief, but have also seen them fulfilled under our very eyes; yet, leaving out 
 all these things which minister to the reader nothing but astonishment and no instruction in the 
 perfect life, I shall try, so far as I can, with the help of God, faithfully to explain only their 
 institutions and the rules of their monasteries, and especially the origin and causes of the 
 principal faults, of which they reckon eight, and the remedies for them according to their 
 traditions, — since my purpose is to say a few words not about God's miracles, but about the 
 way to improve our character, and the attainment of the perfect life, in accordance with that 
 which we received from our elders. In this, too, I will try to satisfy your directions, so that, 
 if I happen to find that anything has been either withdrawn or added in those countries not 
 in accordance with the example of the elders established by ancient custom, but according 
 to the fancy of any one who has founded a monastery, I will faithfully add it or omit it, in 
 accordance with the rule which I have seen followed in the monasteries anciently founded 
 throughout Egypt and Palestine, as I do not believe that a new establishment in the West, in 
 the parts of Gaul could find anything more reasonable or more perfect than are those customs, 
 in the observance of which the monasteries that have been founded by holy and spiritually 
 minded fathers since the rise of apostolic preaching endure even to our own times. I shall, 
 however, venture to exercise this discretion in my work, — that where I find anything in the 
 rule of the Egyptians which, either because of the severity of the climate, or owing to some 
 difficulty or diversity of habits, is impossible in these countries, or hard and difficult, I shall 
 to some extent balance it by the customs of the monasteries which are found throughout 
 Pontus and Mesopotamia; because, if due regard be paid to what things are possible, there 
 is the same perfection in the observance although the power may be unequal. 
 
 1 The reference is to Basil's opoi icari n-AaTo; (the greater monastic rules), and Spot Kara e7rc.TOfi»ii' (the lesser rules), written in the form 
 of answers to questions of the monks. Jerome translated the rule of Pachomius, besides writing the lives of the hermits Paul, Malchus, 
 and Hilarion. 
 
 2 in veritate. Another reading is veritatem. 
 
THE TWELVE BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN 
 
 INSTITUTES OF THE COENOBIA, 
 
 AND THE 
 
 REMEDIES FOR THE EIGHT PRINCIPAL FAULTS. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 OF THE DRESS OF THE MONKS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Of the Monk's Girdle. 
 
 As we are going to speak of the customs and 
 rules of the monasteries, how by God's grace 
 can we better begin than with the actual dress 
 of the monks, for we shall then be able to ex- 
 pound in due course their interior life when we 
 have set their outward man before your eyes. 
 A monk, then, as a soldier of Christ ever ready 
 for battle, ought always to walk with his loins 
 girded. For in this fashion, too, the authority 
 of Holy Scripture shows that they walked who 
 in the Old Testament started the original of 
 this life, — I mean Elijah and Elisha; and, 
 moreover, we know that the leaders and auth- 
 ors of the New Testament, viz., John, Peter, 
 and Paul, and the others of the same rank, 
 walked in the same manner. And of these 
 the first-mentioned, who even in the Old Tes- 
 tament displayed the flowers of a virgin life 
 and an example of chastity and continence, 
 when he had been sent by the Lord to rebuke 
 the messengers of Ahaziah, the wicked king of 
 Israel, because when confined by sickness he 
 had intended to consult Beelzebub, the god of 
 Ekron, on the state of his health, and there- 
 upon the said prophet had met them and said 
 that he should not come down from the bed 
 on which he lay, — this man was made known 
 to the bed-ridden king by the description of 
 the character of his clothing. For when the 
 
 1 Cf. Basil's Greater Monastic Rules, Q. xxii., from which a con- 
 siderable portion of this chapter is taken. 
 
 messengers returned to him and brought back 
 the prophet's message, he asked what the man 
 who had met them and spoken such words was 
 like and how he was dressed. " An hairy man," 
 they said, " and girt with a girdle of leather 
 about his loins;" and by this dress the king 
 at once saw that it was the man of God, and 
 said: "It is Elijah the Tishbite:" 1 i.e., by 
 the evidence of the girdle and the look of the 
 hairy and unkempt body he recognized with- 
 out the slightest doubt the man of God, be- 
 cause this was always attached to him as he 
 dwelt among so many thousands of Israelites, 
 as if it were impressed as some special sign of 
 his own particular style. Of John also, who 
 came as a sort of sacred boundary between the 
 Old and New Testament, being both a begin- 
 ning and an ending, we know by the testimony 
 of the Evangelist that "the same John had his 
 raiment of camel's hair and a girdle of skin 
 about his loins." 2 When Peter also had been 
 put in prison by Herod and was to be brought 
 forth to be slain on the next day, when the 
 angel stood by him he was charged : " Gird 
 thyself and put on thy shoes." 3 And the angel 
 of the Lord would certainly not have charged 
 him to do this had he not seen that for the sake 
 of his night's rest he had for a while freed his 
 wearied limbs from the girdle usually tied 
 round them. Paul also, going up to Jerusalem 
 and soon to be put in chains by the Jews, was 
 met at Cassarea by the prophet Agabus, who 
 took his girdle and bound his hands and feet 
 
 1 2 Kings i, i.-S. 
 
 2 S. Matt. iii. 4. 
 
 s Acts xii. 8. 
 
202 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 to show by his bodily actions the injuries which 
 he was to suffer, and said: " So shall the Jews 
 in Jerusalem bind the man whose girdle this is, 
 and deliver him into the hands of the Gen- 
 tiles." x And surely the prophet would never 
 have brought this forward, or have said " the 
 man whose girdle this is," unless Paul had 
 always been accustomed to fasten it round his 
 loins. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Of the Monk's Robe. 
 
 Let the robe also of the monk be such as 
 may merely cover the body and prevent the 
 disgrace of nudity, and keep off harm from 
 cold, not such as may foster the seeds of vanity 
 and pride ; for the same apostle tells us : " Hav- 
 ing food and covering, with these let us be con- 
 tent." 2 "Covering," he says, not "raiment," 
 as is wrongly found in some Latin copies : 
 that is, what may merely cover the body, not 
 what may please the fancy by the splendour of 
 the attire ; commonplace, so that it may not be 
 thought remarkable for novelty of colour or 
 fashion among other men of the same profes- 
 sion ; and quite free from anxious carefulness, 
 yet not discoloured by stains acquired through 
 neglect. Lastly, let them be so far removed 
 from this world's fashions as to remain alto- 
 gether common property for the use of the 
 servants of God. For whatever is claimed by 
 one or a few among the servants of God and is 
 not the common property of the whole body of 
 the brethren alike is either superfluous or vain, 
 and for that reason to be considered harmful, 
 and affording an appearance of vanity rather 
 than virtue. And, therefore, whatever models 
 we see were not taught either by the saints of 
 old who laid the foundations of the monastic 
 life, or by the fathers of our own time who in 
 their turn keep up at the present day their 
 customs, these we also should reject as super- 
 fluous and useless : wherefore they utterly dis- 
 approved of a robe of sackcloth as being 
 visible to all and conspicuous, and what from 
 this very fact will not only confer no benefit 
 on the soul but rather minister to vanity and 
 pride, and as being inconvenient and unsuit- 
 able for the performance of necessary work for 
 which a monk ought always to go ready and 
 unimpeded. But even if we hear of some re- 
 spectable persons who have been dressed in 
 
 1 Acts xxi. ii. 
 
 2 i Tim. vi. 8. The Greek is crK^rrda-ixaTa, for which Jerome's 
 version has " quibus tegamur." Sabbatier gives "victumet vesti- 
 tum " as the rendering of the old Latin, but it is often quoted as 
 " victus et tegumentum " by Augustine. " Alimenta et openmenta " 
 must be Cassian's own rendering from the Greek. " Vestimenta," 
 which he speaks of as being found in some Latin copies, is not given 
 by Sabbatier at all, though Jerome quotes the text with " vestimen- 
 tum " in Ep. ad Titum, III. 
 
 this garb, a rule for the monasteries is not, 
 therefore, to be passed by us, nor should the 
 ancient decrees of the holy fathers be upset 
 because we do not think that a few men, pre- 
 suming on the possession of other virtues, are 
 to be blamed even in regard of those things 
 which they have- practised not in accordance 
 with the Catholic rule. For the opinion of a 
 few ought not to be preferred to or to interfere 
 with the general rule for all. For we ought 
 to give unhesitating allegiance and unques- 
 tioning obedience, not to those customs and 
 rules which the will of a few have intro- 
 duced, but to those which a long standing 
 antiquity and numbers of the holy fathers have 
 passed on by an unanimous decision to those 
 that come after. Nor, indeed, ought this to 
 influence us as a precedent for our daily life, 
 that Joram, the wicked king of Israel, when 
 surrounded by bands of his foes, rent his 
 clothes, and is said to have had sackcloth in- 
 side them; 3 or that the Ninevites, in order to 
 mitigate the sentence of God, which had been 
 pronounced against them by the prophet, were 
 clothed in rough sackcloth. 4 The former is 
 shown to have been clothed with it secretly 
 underneath, so that unless the upper garment 
 had been rent it could not possibly have been 
 known by any one, and the latter tolerated a 
 covering of sackcloth at a time when, since all 
 were mourning over the approaching destruc- 
 tion of the city and were clothed with the same 
 garments, none could be accused of ostenta- 
 tion. For where there is no special difference 
 and all are alike no harm is done. 5 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Of the Hoods of the Egyptians. 
 
 There are some things besides in the dress 
 of the Egyptians which concern not the care 
 of the body so much as the regulation of the 
 character, that the observance of simplicity and 
 innocence may be preserved by the very char- 
 acter of the clothing. For they constantly use 
 both by day and by night very small hoods 
 coming down to the end of the neck and 
 shoulders, which only cover the head, in order 
 that they may constantly be moved to pre- 
 serve the simplicity and innocence of little 
 children by imitating their actual dress. 6 And 
 
 3 2 Kings vi. 30. 4 Jonah iii. 8. 
 
 5 Quia nisi insolens sit diversitas, non offendit asqualitas (Petsche- 
 nig). The text of Gazasus has inoequalitas. 
 
 6 The hood, or cowl (cuculla), was anciently worn by children and 
 peasants, and thus was said to symbolize humility. Compare the 
 account of the Egyptian monks given by Sozomen, Hist. III. xiv.: 
 " They wore a covering on their heads called a cowl, to show that 
 they ought to live with the same innocence and purity as infants who 
 are nourished with milk and wear a covering of the same form." 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 203 
 
 these men have returned to childhood in Christ 
 and sir.g at all hours with heart and soul: 
 •'Lord, my heart is not exalted nor are mine 
 eyes lofty. Neither have I walked in great 
 matters nor in wonderful things above me. If 
 I was not humbly minded, but exalted my 
 soul : as a child that is weaned is towards his 
 mother." 1 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Of the Tunics of the Egyptians. 
 
 They wear also linen tunics 2 which scarcely 
 reach to the elbows, and for the rest leave their 
 hands bare, that the cutting off of the sleeves 
 may suggest that they have cut off all the deeds 
 and works of this world, and the garment of 
 linen teach that they are dead to all earthly 
 conversation, and that hereby they may hear 
 the Apostle saying day by day to them : " Mor- 
 tify your members which are upon the earth ;" 
 their very dress also declaring this: "For ye 
 are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in 
 God;" and again: "And I live, yet now not I 
 but Christ liveth in me. To me indeed the 
 world is crucified, and I to the world." 3 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Of their Cords. 4 
 
 They also wear double scarves 5 woven of 
 woollen yarn which the Greeks call bvaluBoi, 
 but which we should name girdles 6 or strings, 7 
 or more properly cords. 8 These falling down 
 over the top of the neck and divided on either 
 side of the throat go round the folds (of the 
 robe) at the armpits and gather them up on 
 either side, so that they can draw up and tuck 
 in close to the body the wide folds of the dress, 
 and so with their arms girt they are made active 
 and ready for all kinds of work, endeavouring 
 with all their might to fulfil the Apostle's 
 charge : " For these hands have ministered not 
 only to me but to those also who are with me," 
 "Neither have we eaten any man's bread for 
 
 1 Ps. cxxx. (cxxxi.) i, 2. 
 
 2 Colobium (koA60ioi'), a tunic with very short sleeves. Cf. Doro- 
 theus (Migne, Patrol. Gra:ca lxxxviii. 163 1). To axyv-a ° 4>opoiip.ev 
 KoiVo/3ioi' eo-rt, /U.T) e\ov \eipiSia, kcu £Jjvti Sep^arivq ko.1 c.va.Xaflo'; 
 Ka\ kovkov\lov. 
 
 3 Col. iii. 5, 3. Gal. ii. 20; vi. 14. Cf. Sozomen 1. c. : "They 
 wore their tunics without sleeves in order to teach that the hands 
 ought not to be ready to do evil." 
 
 * Rebracchiatoria. The whole passage is somewhat obscure, and 
 the various synonyms do not help us much in the elucidation of it. 
 AvdAapot. is given in Petschenig's text, but dvafioAdi has some MS. 
 authority. 'AvafSokev; is the word used by Sozomen, who also men- 
 tions this cord. " Their girdle also and cord, the former girding the 
 loins, the latter going round the shoulders and arms, admonish them 
 that they ought always to be ready for the service of God and their 
 work." 
 
 6 Resticuhe. c Succinctoria. 
 
 7 Redimicula. 8 Rebracchiatoria. 
 
 nought, but with labour and toil working night 
 and day that we should not be burdensome to 
 any of you." And: "If any will not work 
 neither let him eat." 9 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Of their Capes. 10 
 
 Next they cover their necks and shoulders 
 with a narrow cape, aiming at modesty of dress 
 as well as cheapness and economy; and this 
 is called in our language as well as theirs 
 mafors\ and so they avoid both the expense 
 and the display of cloaks and great coats. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Of the Sheepskin and the Goatskin. U 
 
 The last article of their dress is the goat- 
 skin, wnich is called melotes, or pera, 12 and a 
 staff, which they carry in imitation of those 
 who foreshadowed the lines of the monastic 
 life in the Old Testament, of whom the Apostle 
 says: "They wandered about in sheepskins 
 and goatskins, being in want, distressed, af- 
 flicted; of whom the world was not worthy; 
 wandering in deserts, and in mountains, and 
 in dens, and in caves of the earth." 13 And this 
 garment of goatskin signifies that having de- 
 stroyed all wantonness of carnal passions they 
 ought to continue in the utmost sobriety of 
 virtue, and that nothing of the wantonness or 
 heat of youth, or of their old lightmindedness, 
 should remain in their bodies. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Of the Staff of the Egyptians. 
 
 For Elisha, himself one of them, teaches 
 that the same men used to carry a staff; as he 
 says to Gehazi, his servant, when sending him 
 to raise the woman's son to life: "Take my 
 staff and run and go and place it on the lad's 
 face that he may live." M And the prophet 
 
 9 Acts xx. 34; 2 Thess. iii. 8, 10 
 
 10 The mafors ( /xa^uipiov or p.a<t>6pLov) is the monkish scapular, 
 or working-dress. Cf. the Rule of S. Benedict, c. 55 : " Scapulare 
 propter opera." In form it was a large, coarse cape, or hood. 
 
 11 The melotes (^tjAojtiJs), a sheepskin garment hanging down on 
 one side, was the usual dress of monks. S. Anthony bequeathed his, 
 at his death, to S. Athanasius. Ath. Vita Anton, 91. 
 
 12 Pera can hardly be used here in its ordinary sense of scrip or wallet 
 n-Tjpa. Gazsus suggests that it may be a transcriber's error for pce- 
 nula, while Ducange would read, " qua? melotes appellatur, vel pera, 
 et baculus." Mr. Sinker, in the Dictionary of Christian Antiqui- 
 ties (Vol. II. p. 1619), suggests that possibly the word may be Egyp- 
 tian. 
 
 1 3 Heb. xi. 37, 38. 
 
 14 2 Kings iv. 29. 
 
204 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 would certainly not have given it to him to 
 take unless he had been in the habit of con- 
 stantly carrying it about in his hand. And the 
 carrying of the staff spiritually teaches that 
 they ought never to walk unarmed among so 
 many barking dogs of faults and invisible 
 beasts of spiritual wickedness (from which the 
 blessed David, in his longing to be free, says: 
 ''Deliver not, O Lord, to the beasts the soul 
 that trusteth in Thee"), 1 but when they attack 
 them they ought to beat them off with the sign 
 of the cross and drive them- far away; and 
 when the)'' rage furiously against them they 
 should annihilate them by the constant recol- 
 lection of the Lord's passion and by follow- 
 ing the example of His mortified life. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Of their Shoes. 
 
 But refusing shoes, as forbidden by the 
 command of the gospel, if bodily weakness or 
 the morning cold in winter or the scorching 
 heat of midday compels them, they merely 
 protect their feet with sandals, explaining that 
 by the use of them and the Lord's permission 
 it is implied that if, while we are still in this 
 world we cannot be completely set free from 
 care and anxiety about the flesh, nor can we be 
 altogether released from it, we should at least 
 provide for the wants of the body with as little 
 fuss and as slight an entanglement as possible : 
 and as for the feet of our soul which ought to 
 be ready for our spiritual race and always 
 prepared for preaching the peace of the gos- 
 pel (with which feet we run after the odour of 
 the ointments of Christ, and of which David 
 says: "I ran in thirst," and Jeremiah: "But I 
 am not troubled, following Thee"), 2 we ought 
 not to suffer them to be entangled in the deadly 
 cares of this world, filling our thoughts with 
 those things which concern not the supply of 
 the wants of nature, but unnecessary and harm- 
 ful pleasures. And this we shall thus fulfil 
 if, as the Apostle advises, we "make not pro- 
 vision for the flesh with its lusts." 3 But 
 though lawfully enough they make use of these 
 sandals, as permitted by the Lord's command, 
 yet they never suffer them to remain on their 
 feet when they approach to celebrate or to 
 receive the holy mysteries, as they think that 
 they ought to observe in the letter that which 
 was said to Moses and to Joshua, the son of 
 Nun : " Loose the latchet of thy shoe : for the 
 place whereon thou standest is holy ground. " 4 
 
 1 Ps. lxxiii. (lxxiv.) 19. ' 
 
 2 Ps. lxi. (lxii.) 5 ; Jer. xvii. 16 (lxx.). 
 8 Rom. xiii. 14. 
 
 4 Exod. iii. 5 ; Josh. v. 16. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Of the modification in the observances which may be per- 
 mitted in accordance with the character of the climate or the 
 custom of the district. 
 
 So much may be said, that we may not ap- 
 pear to have left out any article of the dress 
 of the Egyptians. But we need only keep to 
 those which the situation of the place and the 
 customs of the district permit. For the severity 
 of the winter does not allow us to be satisfied 
 with slippers 6 or tunics or a single frock; and 
 the covering of tiny hoods or the wearing of a 
 sheepskin would afford a subject for derision 
 instead of edifying the spectators. Wherefore 
 we hold that we ought to introduce only those 
 things which we have described above, and 
 which are adapted to the humble character of 
 our profession and the nature of the climate, 
 that the chief thing about our dress maybe not 
 the novelty of the garb, which might give some 
 offence to men of the world, but its honourable 
 simplicity. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Of the Spiritual Girdle and its Mystical Meaning. 7 
 
 Clad, therefore, in these vestments, the sol- 
 dier of Christ should know first of all that he 
 is protected by the girdle tied round him, not 
 only that he may be ready in mind for all the 
 work and business of the monastery, but also 
 that he may always go without being hindered 
 by his dress. For he will be proved to be the 
 more ardent in purity of heart for spiritual 
 progress and the knowledge of Divine things 
 in proportion as he is the more earnest in his 
 zeal for obedience and work. Secondly, he 
 should realize that in the actual wearing of. the 
 girdle there is no small mystery declaring 
 what is demanded of him. For the girding of 
 the loins and binding them round with a dead 
 skin signifies that he bears about the mortifi- 
 cation of those members in which are contained 
 the seeds of lust and lasciviousness, always 
 knowing that the command of the gospel, which 
 says, " Let your loins be girt abou*p' & is applied 
 to him by the Apostle's interpretation; to wit, 
 " Mortify your members which are upon the 
 earth; fornication, uncleanness, lust, evil con- 
 cupiscence." 9 And so we find in Holy Scrip- 
 ture that only those were girt with the girdle 
 in whom the seeds of carnal lust are found to 
 
 5 This and the following chapter are altogether omitted in the 
 edition of Gaz:eus. 
 
 6 Gallica. 
 
 7 Sacramentum. 
 
 8 S. Luke xii. 35. 
 8 Col. iii. 5. 
 
 I 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 205 
 
 be destroyed, and who sing with might and 
 main this utterance of the blessed David : " For 
 I am become like a bottle in the frost," l be- 
 cause when the sinful flesh is destroyed in the 
 inmost parts they can distend by the power of 
 the spirit the dead skin of the outward man. 
 And therefore he significantly adds "in the 
 frost," because they are never satisfied merely 
 with the mortification of the heart, but also 
 have the motions of the outward man and the 
 incentives of nature itself frozen by the ap- 
 
 1 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) S3. 
 
 proach of the frost of continence from without, 
 if only, as, the Apostle says, they no longer 
 allow any reign of sin in their mortal body, 
 nor wear a flesh that resists the spirit." 2 
 
 2 Cf. Rom. vi. 12 ; Gal. v. 17. S. Benedict's rule about the dress 
 of the monks is as follows : " Let the dress of the brethren be adapted 
 to the character of the place or climate in which they live, as more 
 clothing is required in cold than in hot countries. Hence we leave 
 this to the abbot to determine. However, in temperate climates we 
 are of opinion that it will be enough for each monk to have a hood 
 and a frock, a rough one for the winter, and in the summer a simple 
 or old one ; a scapular also for work ; and the covering of the feet, 
 shoes and socks. And the monks are not to complain of the colour 
 or size of these articles, but to be satisfied with whatever can be found 
 or got cheapest in the country where they live." Regula S. Bened. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 OF THE CANONICAL SYSTEM OF THE NOCTURNAL 
 PRAYERS AND PSALMS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Of the Canonical System of the Nocturnal Prayers and Psalms. 
 
 Girt, therefore, with this twofold girdle of 
 which we have spoken, 3 the soldier of Christ 
 should next learn the system of the canonical 
 prayers and Psalms which was long ago ar- 
 ranged by the holy fathers in the East. Of 
 their character, however, and of the way in 
 which we can pray, as the Apostle directs, 
 "without ceasing," 4 we shall treat, as the Lord 
 may enable us, in the proper place, when we 
 begin to relate the Conferences of the Elders. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Of the difference of the number of Psalms appointed to be 
 sung in all the provinces. 
 
 For we have found that many in different 
 countries, according to the fancy of their mind 
 (having, indeed, as the Apostle says, " a zeal 
 for God but not according to knowledge" 5 ), 
 have made for themselves different rules and 
 arrangements in this matter. For some have 
 appointed that each night twenty or thirty 
 Psalms should be said, and that these should 
 be prolonged by the music of antiphonal sing- 
 ing, 6 and by the addition of some modulations 
 
 s See Book I. c. xi. 
 
 4 1 Thess. v. 17. 
 
 c Rom. x. 2. 
 
 6 Antiphona. In this passage the word appears to mean the act- 
 ual Psalms sung antiphonally, rather than what is generally meant in 
 later writings by the term. Cf. the Rule of Aurelian, "Dicite ma- 
 tutinarios, i.e., primo canticum in antiphona, deinde directaneum, 
 judica me Deus ... in antiphona dicite hymnum, splendor pa- 
 tuds gloria." And see the use of the word later on by Cassian him- 
 self, c. vii. 
 
 as well. Others have even tried to go beyond 
 this number. Some use eighteen. And in 
 this way we have found different rules ap- 
 pointed in different places, and the system 
 and regulations that we have seen are almost 
 as many in number as the monasteries and 
 cells which we have visited. There are some, 
 too, to whom it has seemed good that in the 
 day offices of prayer, viz., Tierce, Sext, and 
 Nones, 7 the number of Psalms and prayers 
 should be made to correspond exactly to the 
 number of the hours at which the services are 
 offered up to the Lord. 8 Some have thought 
 fit that six Psalms Should be assigned to each 
 service of the day. And so I think it best to 
 set forth the most ancient system of the fathers 
 which is still observed by the servants of God 
 throughout the whole of Egypt, so that your 
 new monastery in its untrained infancy in 
 Christ 9 may be instructed in the most ancient 
 institutions of the earliest fathers. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Of the observance of one uniform rule throughout the whole 
 of Egypt, and of the election of those who are set over the 
 brethren. 
 
 And so throughout the whole of Egypt and 
 the Thebaid, where monasteries are not found- 
 ed at the fancy of every man who renounces 
 
 7 The third, sixth, and ninth hours were observed as hours of 
 prayer from the earliest days. Cf. Tertullian De Oratione, c. 25 ; 
 Clem. Alex. Stromata, VII., c. 7, § 40. 
 
 8 I.e., that at Tierce there should be three Psalms, at Sext six, 
 and at Nones nine. 
 
 9 Castor had founded a monastery about the year 420. 
 
206 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 the world, but through a succession of fathers 
 and their traditions last even to the present 
 day, or are founded so to last, in these we have 
 noticed that a prescribed system of prayers is 
 observed in their evening assemblies and noc- 
 turnal vigils. For no one is allowed to preside 
 over the assembly of the brethren, or even over 
 himself, before he has not only deprived him- 
 self of all his property but has also learnt the 
 fact that he is not his own maker and has no 
 authority over his own actions. For one who 
 renounces the world, whatever property or 
 riches he may possess, must seek the common 
 dwelling of a Coenobium, that he may not 
 flatter himself in any way with what he has 
 forsaken or what he has brought into the mon- 
 astery. He must also be obedient to all, so as 
 to learn that he must, as the Lord says, l be- 
 come again a little child, arrogating nothing to 
 himself on the score of his age and the number 
 of the years which he now counts as lost while 
 they were spent to no purpose in the world ; 
 and, as he is only a beginner, and because 
 of the novelty of the apprenticeship, which he 
 knows he is serving in Christ's service, he 
 should not hesitate to submit himself even to 
 his juniors. Further, he is obliged to habit- 
 uate himself to work and toil, so as to prepare 
 with his own hands, in accordance with the 
 Apostle's command, 2 a daily supply of food, 
 either for his own use or for the wants of 
 strangers ; and that he may also forget the pride 
 and luxury of his past life, and gain by grind- 
 ing toil humility of heart. And so no one is 
 chosen to be set over a congregation of breth- 
 ren before that he who is to be placed in author- 
 ity has learnt by obedience what he ought to 
 enjoin on those who are to submit to him, and 
 has discovered from the rules of the Elders 
 what he ought to teach to his juniors. For 
 they say that to rule or to be ruled well needs 
 a wise man, and they call it the greatest gift 
 and grace of the Holy Spirit, since no one 
 can enjoin salutary precepts on those who 
 submit to him but one who has previously 
 been trained in all the rules of virtue; nor can 
 any one obey an Elder but one who has been 
 filled with the love of God and perfected in 
 the virtue of humility. And so we see that 
 there is a variety of rules and regulations in 
 use throughout other districts, because we 
 often have the audacity to preside over a mon- 
 astery without even having learnt the system 
 of the Elders, and appoint ourselves Abbots 
 before we have, as we ought, professed our- 
 selves disciples, and are readier to require the 
 observance of our own inventions than to pre- 
 serve the well-tried teaching of our predeces- 
 
 1 Cf. S. Matt, xviii. 3. 
 - Cf. 1 Thess. iv. 11. 
 
 sors. But, while we meant to explain the best 
 system of prayers to be observed, we have in 
 our eagerness for the institutions of the fathers 
 anticipated by a hasty digression the account 
 which we were keeping back for its proper 
 place. And so let us now return to the subject 
 before us. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 How throughout the whole of Egypt and the Thebaid the 
 number of Psalms is fixed at twelve. 
 
 So, as we said, throughout the whole of 
 Egypt and the Thebaid the number of Psalms 
 is fixed at twelvefboth at Vespers and in the 
 office of Nocturns, 3 in such a way that at the 
 close two lessons follow, one from the Old and 
 the other from the New Testament. 4 And this 
 arrangement, fixed ever so long ago, has con- 
 tinued unbroken to the present day throughout 
 so many ages, in all the monasteries of those 
 districts, because it is said that it was no ap- 
 pointment of man's invention, but was brought 
 down from heaven to the fathers by the minis- 
 try of an angel. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 How the fact that the number of the Psalms was to be twelve 
 was received from the teaching of an angel. 
 
 For in the early days of the faith when 
 only a few, and those the best of men, were 
 known by the name of monks, who, as they 
 received that mode of life from the Evangelist 
 Mark of blessed memory, the first to preside 
 over the Church of Alexandria as Bishop, not 
 only preserved those grand characteristics for 
 which we read, in the Acts of the Apostles, 
 that the Church and multitude of believers in 
 primitive times was famous ("The multitude 
 of believers had one heart and one soul. Nor 
 did any of them say that any of the things 
 which he possessed was his own : but they 
 had all things common ; for as many as were 
 owners of lands or houses sold them, and 
 brought the price of the things which they sold, 
 and laid it at the feet of the Apostles, and 
 distribution was made to every man as he had 
 need"), 5 but they added to these characteristics 
 others still more sublime. For withdrawing 
 into more secluded spots outside the cities they 
 led a life marked by such rigorous abstinence 
 
 3 The rule of Caesariu.; also prescribes twelve Psalms on every 
 Sabbath, Lord's day, and festival (c. 25); so also, according to the 
 Benedictine rule, there are iwelve Psalms at mattins, besides the fixed 
 ones, iii. and xcv. (see c. g &nd 10), as there are still in the Roman 
 Breviary on ordinary week-cays. 
 
 4 The custom of having two lessons only appears to have been 
 peculiar to Egypt. Most of the early Western rules give three, e.g., 
 those of Cssarius and Benedict, while in the Eastern daily offices 
 there are no lections from Holy Scripture. 
 
 Acts iv. 32-34. 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 207 
 
 that even to those of another creed the exalted 
 character of their life was a standing marvel. 
 For they gave themselves up to the reading of 
 Holy Scripture and to prayers and to manual 
 labour night and day with such fervour that 
 they had no desire or thoughts of food — un- 
 less on the second or third day bodily hunger ] 
 reminded them, and they took their meat and 
 drink not so much because they wished for it 
 as because it was necessary for life; and even 
 then they took it not before sunset, in order 
 that they might connect the hours of daylight 
 with the practice of spiritual meditations, and 
 the care of the body with the night, and might 
 perform other things much more exalted than 
 these. And about these matters, one who has 
 never heard anything from one who is at home 
 in such things, may learn from ecclesiastical 
 history. 2 At that time, therefore, when the 
 perfection of the primitive Church remained 
 unbroken, and was still preserved fresh in the 
 memory by their followers and successors, and 
 when the fervent faith of the few had not yet 
 grown lukewarm by being dispersed among the 
 many, the venerable fathers with watchful care 
 made provision for those to come after them, 
 and met together to discuss what plan should 
 be adopted for the daily worship throughout 
 the whole body of the brethren; that they 
 might hand on to those who should succeed 
 them a legacy of piety and peace that was free 
 from all dispute and dissension, for they were 
 afraid that in regard of the daily services some 
 difference or dispute might arise among those 
 who joined together in the same worship, and 
 at some time or other it might send forth a 
 poisonous root of error or jealousy or schism 
 among those who came after. And when each 
 man in proportion to his own fervour — and 
 unmindful of the weakness of others — thought 
 that that should be appointed which he judged 
 was quite easy by considering his own faith 
 and strength, taking too little account of what 
 would be possible for the great mass of the 
 brethren in general (wherein a very large pro- 
 portion of weak ones is sure to be found) ; and 
 when in different degrees they strove, each 
 according to his own powers, to fix an enor- 
 mous number of Psalms, and some were for 
 fifty, others sixty, and some, not content with 
 this number, thought that they actually ought 
 to go beyond it, — there was such a holy differ- 
 ence of opinion in their pious discussion on 
 the rule of their religion that the time for their 
 Vesper office came before the sacred question 
 was decided; and, as they were going to cele- 
 brate their daily rites and prayers, one rose 
 
 1 Petschenig's text has inedia, others inediam. 
 
 2 Cf. Eusebius, Book II.c.xv., xvi. Sozomen, Book I. c. xii., xiii. 
 
 up in the midst to chant the Psalms to the 
 Lord. And while they were all sitting (as is 
 still the custom in Egypt 3 ;, with their minds 
 intently fixed on the words of the chanter, 
 when he had sung eleven Psalms, separated by 
 prayers introduced between them, verse after 
 verse being evenly enunciated, 4 he finished 
 the twelfth with a response of Alleluia, 5 and 
 then, by his sudden disappearance from the 
 eyes of all, put an end at once to their dis- 
 cussion and their service. 6 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Of the Custom of having Twelve Prayers. 
 
 Whereupon the venerable assembly of the 
 Fathers understood that by Divine Providence 
 a general rule had been fixed for the congre- 
 gations of the brethren through the angel's 
 direction, and so decreed that this number 
 should be preserved both in their evening and 
 in their nocturnal services; and when they 
 added to these two lessons, one from the Old 
 and one from the New Testament, they added 
 them simply as extras and of their own ap- 
 pointment, only for those who liked, and who 
 were eager to gain by constant study a mind 
 well stored with Holy Scripture. But on 
 Saturday and Sunday they read them both 
 from the New Testament; viz., one from the 
 Epistles 7 or the Acts of the Apostles, and one 
 from the Gospel. 8 And this also those do 
 whose concern is the reading and the recollec- 
 tion of the Scriptures, from Easter to Whit- 
 suntide. 9 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Of their Method of Praying. 
 
 These aforesaid prayers, then, they begin 
 and finish in such a way that when the Psalm is 
 ended they do not hurry at once to kneel down, 
 as some of us do in this country, who, before 
 
 s Cf. below, c. xii. 
 
 4 Cumque . . . uiidecim Psalmos orationum interjectione dis- 
 tinctos contiguis versibus parili pronunciatione cantassat. 
 
 s So, according to the Benedictine rule, the Psalms at mattins are 
 ended with Alleluia (c. ix.): "After these three lessons with their 
 responds there shall follow the remaining six Psalms with the 
 Alleluia." Cf. c. xi. and xv. 
 
 6 This story is referred to in the Eighteenth Canon of the Second 
 Council of Tours, a.d. 567. "The statutes of the Fathers have pre- 
 scribed that twelve Psalms be said at the Twelfth (i.e., Vespers), with 
 Alleluia, which, moreover, they learnt from the showing of an angel." 
 
 7 Apostolus, the regular name for the book of the Epistles. 
 
 8 Cf. the note above on c. v. 
 
 9 Teh's Quinquagessimce diebus; i.e., the whole period of fifty days 
 between Easter and Whitsuntide (cf. c. xviii. and the Conferences 
 XXI. viii., xi., xx.). This is the usual meaning of the term Pentecost 
 in early writers, though it is also used more strictly for the actual fes- 
 tival of Whitsunday. Cf. the Twentieth Canon of the Council of 
 Nicsa, and see Canon Bright's Notes on the Canons, p. 72, for other 
 instances. 
 
2 08 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 the Psalm is fairly ended, make haste to pro- 
 strate themselves for prayer, in their hurry to 
 finish the service 1 as quickly as possible. 
 For though we have chosen to exceed the limit 
 which was anciently fixed by our predecessors, 
 supplying the number of the remaining Psalms, 
 we are anxious to get to the end of the ser- 
 vice, thinking of the refreshment of the wearied 
 body rather than looking for profit and benefit 
 from the prayer. Among them, therefore, it is 
 not so, but before they bend their knees they 
 pray for a few moments, and while they are 
 standing up spend the greater part of the time 
 •in prayer. And so after this, for the briefest 
 space of time, they prostrate themselves to the 
 ground, as if but adoring the Divine Mercy, 
 and as soon as possible rise up, and again 
 standing erect with outspread hands — just as 
 they had been standing to pray before — re- 
 main with thoughts intent upon their prayers. 
 For when you lie prostrate for any length of 
 time upon the ground you are more open to 
 an attack, they say, not only of wandering 
 thoughts but also of slumber. And would that 
 we too did not know the truth of this by experi- 
 ence and daily practice — we who when pros- 
 trating ourselves on the ground too often wish 
 for this attitude to be prolonged for some time, 
 not for the sake of our prayer so much as for 
 the sake of resting. But when he who is to 
 ''collect" the prayer 2 rises from the ground 
 they all start up at once, so that no one would 
 venture to bend the knee before he bows down, 
 nor to delay when he has risen from the 
 ground, lest it should be thought that he has 
 offered his own prayer independently instead 
 of following; the leader to the close. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Of the Prayer which follows the Psalm. 
 
 That practice too which we have observed 
 in this country — viz., that while one sings to 
 the end of the Psalm, all standing up sing 
 together with a loud voice, " Glory be to the 
 Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost " 
 — we have never heard anywhere throughout 
 the East, but there, while all keep silence when 
 
 1 Ad celeritatem 7nissce. The word " missa " is here used for the 
 breaking up of the congregation after service, as it is again in Book 
 III. c. vii., where Cassian says that one who came late for prayer 
 had to wait, standing before the door, for the "missa " of the whole 
 assembly. Cf. III. c. viii., "post vigiliarum missam," and the rule 
 of S. Benedict (c. xvii.) : "After the three Psalms are finished, let 
 one lesson be read, a verse, and Kyrie Eleison : et missce fiant." A 
 full account of the various meanings given to the word will be found 
 in the Dictionary of Christian Antiquities, Vol. II. p. 1193 sq. 
 
 2 Colligere orationem. The phrase corresponds to the Greek 
 cvvo-TTTtiv, but Ducange gives -but few instances of its use in Latin. 
 It is found, however, in Canon xxx. of the Council of Agde. " Plebs 
 coilecta oratione ad vesperam ab Episcopo cum benedictione dimit- 
 tatur." 
 
 the Psalm is finished, the prayer that follows 
 is offered up by the singer. But with this 
 hymn in honour of the Trinity only the whole 
 Psalmody 8 is usually ended. 4 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Of the characteristics of the prayer, the fuller treatment of 
 which is reserved for the Conferences of the Elders. 
 
 And as the plan of these Institutes leads us 
 to the system of the canonical prayers, the 
 fuller treatment of which we will however 
 reserve for the Conferences of the Elders(where 
 we shall speak of them at greater length when 
 we have begun to tell in their own words of the 
 character of their prayers, and how continuous 
 they are), still I think it well, as far as the place 
 and my narrative permit, as the occasion offers 
 itself, to glance briefly for the present at a few 
 points, so that by picturing in the meanwhile 
 the movements of the outer man, and by now 
 laying the foundations, as it were, of the prayer, 
 we may afterwards, when we come to speak of 
 the inner man, with less labour build up the 
 complete edifice of his prayers; providing, 
 above all for this, that if the end of life should 
 overtake us and cut us off from finishing the 
 narration which we are anxious (D.V.) fitly 
 to compose, we may at least leave in this work 
 the beginnings of so necessary a matter to you, 
 to whom everything seems a delay, by reason 
 of the fervour of your desire : so that, if a 
 few more years of life are granted to us, we 
 may at least mark out for you some outlines 
 of their prayers, that those above all who live 
 in monasteries may have some information 
 about them; providing also, at the same time, 
 that those who perhaps may meet only with 
 this book, and be unable to procure the other, 
 may find that they are supplied with some sort 
 of information about the nature of their 
 prayers; and as they are instructed about the 
 dress and clothing of the outer man, so too 
 they may not be ignorant what his behaviour 
 ought to be in offering spiritual sacrifices. 
 
 3 Antiphona. The word must certainly be used here not in the 
 later sense of "antiphon," but as descriptive of the whole of the 
 Psalmody of the office. Cf. note on c. i. 
 
 4 In the Eastern offices the Psalter is divided into twenty sections 
 called Kadicrfxara, each of which is subdivided into three crratrei?, at 
 the close of each of which the Gloria is said, and not, as in the West, 
 after every Psalm. This Western custom whicli Cassian here notices 
 seems to have originated in Gaul, and thence spread toother churches, 
 as, according to Walafrid Strabo, at Rome it was used but rarely 
 after the Psalms in the ninth century. See Walafrid Strabo, c. 
 xxv. ap. Hittorp. 6SS. The earliest certain indications of the use 
 of the hymn itself are found in the fourth century. See S. Basil, 
 De Spiritu Sancto, c. xxix. ; Theodoret, Eccl. Hist., II. xxiv.; So- 
 zomen, Eccl. Hist., III. xx. The Greek form is Ao£a Tra-rpi icai 
 v'uS Kal ayiui irvevixari Kai vvi' ko.l act koll eis tovs cuun'a? rmv 
 ait»i'u>v, a/j-iji-. The additional words in use in the West, " sicut 
 erat in principio," were first adopted in the sixth century, being 
 ordered by the Council of Vaison, a.d. 529, " after the example of 
 the apostolic see." 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 !C9 
 
 Since, though these books, which we are now 
 arranging with the Lord's help to write, are 
 mainly taken up with what belongs to the outer 
 man and the customs of the Ccenobia, yet 
 those will rather be concerned with the training 
 of the inner man and the perfection of the 
 heart, and the life and doctrine of the An- 
 chorites. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Of the silence and conciseness with which the Collects are 
 offered up by the Egyptians. 
 
 When, then, they meet together to celebrate 
 the aforementioned rites, which they term. 
 synaxes, 1 they are all so perfectly silent that, 
 though so large a number of the brethren is 
 assembled together, you would not think a 
 single person was present except the one who 
 stands up and chants the Psalm in the midst ; 
 and especially is this the case when the prayer 
 is offered up, 1 * for then there is no spitting, no 
 clearing of the throat, or noise of coughing, no 
 sleepy yawning with open mouths, and gaping, 
 and no groans or sighs are uttered, likely to dis- 
 tract those standing near. No voice is heard 
 save that of the priest concluding the prayer, ex- 
 cept perhaps one that escapes the lips through 
 aberration of mind and unconsciously takes 
 the heart by surprise, inflamed as it is with 
 an uncontrollable and irrepressible fervour of 
 spirit, while that which the glowing mind is 
 unable to keep to itself strives through a sort 
 of unutterable groaning to make its escape 
 from the inmost chambers of the breast. But 
 if any one infected with coldness of mind prays 
 out loud or emits any of those sounds we have 
 mentioned, or is overcome by a fit of yawning, 
 they declare that he is guilty of a double fault. 
 
 He is blameworthy, first, as regards his own 
 prayer because he offers it to God in a careless 
 way; and, secondly, because by his unmannerly 
 noise he disturbs the thoughts of another who 
 would otherwise perhaps have been able to 
 pray with greater attention. And so their 
 rule is that the prayer ought to be brought to an 
 end with a speedy conclusion, lest while we are 
 lingering over it some superfluity of spittle or 
 phlegm should interfere with the close of our 
 prayer. And, therefore, while it is still glow- 
 ing the prayer is to be snatched as speedily 
 as possible out of the jaws of the enemy, who, 
 although he is indeed always hostile to us, is 
 yet never, more hostile than when he sees that 
 we are anxious to offer up prayers to God 
 against his attacks ; and by exciting wander- 
 
 1 Syiiaxis (criWf is), a general name for the course of the ecclesi- 
 astical offices. 
 
 2 Consuminatur. 
 
 ing thoughts and all sorts of rheums he en- 
 deavours to distract our minds from attending 
 to our prayers, and by this means tries to make 
 it grow cold, though begun with fervour. 
 Wherefore they think it best for the prayers to 
 be short and offered up very frequently: 3 on 
 the one hand that by so often praying to the 
 Lord we may be able to cleave to Him contin- 
 ually; on the other, that when the devil is 
 lying in wait for us, we may by their terse 
 brevity avoid the darts with which he endeav- 
 ours to wound us especially when we are saying 
 our prayers. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Of the system according to which the Psalms are said among 
 the Egyptians. 
 
 And, therefore, they do not even attempt to 
 finish the Psalms, which they sing in the ser- 
 vice, by an unbroken and continuous recita- 
 tion. But they repeat them separately and 
 bit by bit, divided into two or three sections, 
 according to the number of verses, with prayers 
 in between. 4 For they do not care about the 
 quantity of verses, but about the intelligence 
 of the mind; aiming with all their might at 
 this: "I will sing with the spirit: I will sing 
 also with the understanding." 5 And so they 
 consider it better for ten verses to be sung with 
 understanding and thought 6 than for a whole 
 Psalm to be poured forth with a bewildered 
 mind. And this is sometimes caused by the 
 hurry of the speaker, when, thinking of the 
 character and number of the remaining Psalms 
 to be sung, he takes no pains to make the 
 meaning clear to his hearers, but hastens on 
 to get to the end of the service. Lastly, if any 
 of the younger monks, either through fervour 
 of spirit or because he has not yet been properly 
 
 3 Cf. Augustine, Ep. cxxx., § 20 (Vol. II. 3S9) : " Dicuntur 
 fratres in jEgypto crebras quidem habere orationes, sed eas tamen 
 brevissimas, et raptim quodammodo jaculatas, ne ilia vigilantes 
 erecta, qua? oranti plurimum necessaria est, per productiores moras 
 evanescat atque hebetetur intentio;" and Hooker, Eccl. Polity, 
 Book V. c. xxxiii. : " The brethren in Egypt (saith S. Augustine) are 
 reported to have many prayers, but every of them very short, as if 
 they were darts thrown out with a kind of sudden quickness, lest that 
 vigilant and erect attention of mind which in prayer is very necessary 
 should be wasted or dulled through continuance, if their prayers were 
 few and long. . . . Those prayers whereunto devout minds have 
 added a piercing kind of brevity, as well in that respect which we 
 have already mentioned, as also thereby the better to express that 
 quick and speedy expedition wherewith ardent affections, the very 
 wings of prayer, are delighted to present our suits in heaven, even 
 sooner than our tongues can devise to utter them," etc. 
 
 4 This plan of dividing some of the longer Psalms (as is still done 
 with the 119th in the English Psalter) was adopted sometimes in the 
 West also. Cf. the Rule of S. Benedict, c. xviii., and the Third 
 Council of Narbonne (a.d. 5S9), Canon 2 : " Ut in psallendis ordir.i- 
 bus per quemque Psalmum Gloria dicatur Omnipotent! Deo, per ma- 
 jores vero Psalmos, prout f uerint prolixius, pausationes fiant, et 
 per quamque pausationem Gloria Trinitatis Domino decantetur." 
 Further, the rule that prayers should be intermingled with Psalms, 
 which was perhaps introduced into the West by Cassian, was widely 
 adopted both in Gaul and in Spain. 
 
 6 1 Cor. xiv. 15. 
 
 6 Cum rationabili assignatione. 
 
2IO 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 taught, goes beyond the proper limit of what is 
 to be sung, the one who is singing the Psalm is 
 stopped by the senior clapping his hands where 
 he sits in his stall, and making them all rise 
 for prayer. Thus they take every possible care 
 that no weariness may creep in among them 
 as they sit through the length of the Psalms, 
 as thereby not only would the singer himself 
 lose the fruits of understanding, but also loss 
 would be incurred by those whom he made to 
 feel the service a weariness by going on so long. 
 They also observe this with the greatest care; 
 viz., that no Psalm should be said with the 
 response of Alleluia except those which are 
 marked with the inscription of Alleluia in 
 their title. 1 But the aforesaid number of 
 twelve Psalms they divide in such a way that 
 if there are two brethren they each sing six; 
 if there are three, then four ; and if four, three 
 each. A smaller number than this they never 
 sing in the congregation, and accordingly, 
 however large a congregation is assembled, 
 not more than four brethren sing in the service. 2 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Of the reason why while one sings the Psalms the rest sit 
 down during the service ; and of the zeal with which they 
 afterwards prolong their vigils in 'their cells till daybreak. 
 
 This canonical system of twelve Psalms, of 
 which we have spoken, they render easier by 
 such bodily rest that when, after their custom, 
 they celebrate these services, they all, except 
 the one who stands up in the midst to recite 
 the Psalms, sit in very low stalls and follow 
 the voice of the singer with the utmost attention 
 of heart. For they are so worn out with fasting 
 and working all day and night that, unless they 
 were helped by some such indulgence, they 
 could not possibly get through this number 
 standing up. For they allow no time to pass 
 idly without the performance of some work, 
 because not only do they strive with all earn- 
 estness to do with their hands those things 
 which can be done in daylight, but also with 
 anxious minds they examine into those sorts 
 of work which not even the darkness of night 
 can put a stop to, as they hold that they will 
 gain a far deeper insight into subjects of spir- 
 itual contemplation with purity of heart, the 
 more earnestly that they devote themselves to 
 work and labour. And therefore they consider 
 that a moderate allowance of canonical prayers 
 was divinely arranged in order that for those 
 
 1 Viz. : Pss. civ., cv., cvi., ex., cxi., cxii., cxiii., cxiv., cxv., 
 cxvi., cxvii. , cxviii., exxxiv., exxxv., cxiv., cxlvi., cxlvii., cxlviii., cxlix., 
 cl., in the LXX. and the Latin. 
 
 2 This arrangement by which the Psalm was sung by a single 
 ivoice, while the rest of the congregation listened, is that which was 
 
 afterwards known by the name of Tractus. 
 
 who are very ardent in faith room might be left 
 in which their never-tiring flow of virtue might 
 spend itself, and notwithstanding no loathing 
 arise in their wearied and weak bodies from 
 too large a quantity. And so, when the offices 
 of the canonical prayers have been duly fin- 
 ished, every one returns to his own cell (which 
 he inhabits alone, or is allowed to share with 
 only one other whom partnership in work or 
 training in discipleship and learning has 
 joined with him, or perhaps similarity of 
 character has made his companion), and again 
 they offer with greater earnestness the same 
 service of prayer, as their special private sacri- 
 fice, as it were ; nor do any of them give them- 
 selves up any further to rest and sleep till 
 when the brightness of day comes on the 
 labours of the day succeed the labours and 
 meditations of the nigfht. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The reason why they are not allowed to go to sleep after the 
 night service. 3 
 
 And these labours they keep up for two rea- 
 sons, besides this consideration, — that they 
 believe that when they are diligently exerting 
 themselves they are offering to God a sacrifice 
 of the fruit of their hands. And, if we are 
 aiming at perfection, we also ought to observe 
 this with the same diligence. First, lest our 
 envious adversary, jealous of our purity against 
 which he is always plotting, and ceaselessly 
 hostile to us, should by some illusion in a 
 dream pollute the purity which has been 
 gained by the Psalms and prayers of the night: 
 for after that satisfaction which we have offered 
 for our negligence and ignorance, and the 
 absolution implored with profuse sighs in our 
 confession, he anxiously tries, if he finds some 
 time given to repose, to defile us; then above 
 all endeavouring to overthrow and weaken our 
 trust in God when he sees by the purity of our 
 prayers that we are making most fervent efforts 
 towards God : so that sometimes, when he has 
 been unable to injure some the whole night 
 long, he does his utmost to disgrace them in 
 that short hour. Secondly, because, even if 
 no such dreaded illusion of the devil arises, 
 even a pure sleep in the interval produces 
 laziness in the case of the monk who ought 
 soon to wake up ; and, bringing on a sluggish 
 torpor in the mind, it dulls his vigour through- 
 out the whole day, and deadens that keenness 
 
 3 Missis. The use of this word for the offices of the Canonical 
 Hours, though not common, is found also in the Thirtieth Canon of 
 the Council of Agde, A.D. 506. " At the end of the morning and 
 evening misscc, after the hymns, let the little chapters from the 
 Psalms be said." 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 21 I 
 
 
 of perception and exhausts that energy 1 of 
 heart which would be capable of keeping us 
 all day long more watchful against all the 
 snares of the enemy and more robust. Where- 
 fore to the Canonical Vigils there are added 
 these private watchings, and they submit to 
 them with the greater care, both in order that 
 the purity which has been gained by Psalms 
 and prayers may not be lost, and also that a 
 more intense carefulness to guard us diligently 
 through the day may be secured beforehand 
 by the meditation of the night. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Of the way in which they devote themselves in their cells 
 equally to manual labour and to prayer. 
 
 And therefore they supplement their prayer 
 by the addition of labour, lest slumber might 
 steal upon them as idlers. For as they scarcely 
 enjoy any time of leisure, so there is no limit 
 put to their spiritual meditations. For prac- 
 tising equally the virtues of the body and of 
 the soul, they balance what is due to the outer 
 by what is profitable to the inner man ; 2 steady- 
 ing the slippery motions of the heart and the 
 shifting fluctuations of the thoughts by the 
 weight of labour, like some strong and im- 
 moveable anchor, by which the changeableness 
 and wanderings of the heart, fastened within 
 the barriers of the cell, may be shut up in some 
 perfectly secure harbour, and so, intent only on 
 spiritual meditation and watchfulness over the 
 thoughts, may not only forbid the watchful mind 
 to give a hasty consent to any evil suggestions, 
 but may also keep it safe from any unnecessary 
 and idle thoughts : so that it is not easy to say 
 which depends on the other — I mean, whether 
 they practise their incessant manual labour for 
 the sake of spiritual meditation, or whether it 
 is for the sake of their continuous labours that 
 they acquire such remarkable spiritual profi- 
 ciency and light of knowledge. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Of the discreet rule by which every one must retire to his cell 
 after the close of the prayers ; and 3 of the rebuke to which 
 any one who does otherwise is subject. 
 
 And so, when the Psalms are finished, and 
 the daily assembly, as we said above, is broken 
 up, none of them dares to loiter ever so little 
 or to gossip with another : nor does he presume 
 even to leave his cell throughout the whole 
 
 1 Pinguetudo. 
 
 2 Exterioris hominis stipendia cum emolumentis interioris exoe- 
 quant. 
 
 3 Post orationum ntissam. See note on c. vii. 
 
 day, or to forsake the work which he is wont 
 to carry on in it, except when they happen to 
 be called out for the performance of some 
 necessary duty, which they fulfil by going 
 out of doors so that there may not be any 
 chattering at all among them. But every one 
 does the work assigned to him in such a way 
 that, by repeating by heart some Psalm or 
 passage of Scripture, he gives no opportunity 
 or time for dangerous schemes or evil designs, 
 or even for idle talk, as both mouth and heart 
 are incessantly taken up with spiritual medita- 
 tions. For they are most particular in observ- 
 ing this rule, that none of them, and especially 
 of the younger ones, may be caught stopping 
 even for a moment or going anywhere together 
 with another, or holding his hands in his. But, 
 if they discover any who in defiance of the 
 discipline of this rule have perpetrated any of 
 these forbidden things, they pronounce them 
 guilty of no slight fault, as contumacious and 
 disobedient to the rules ; nor are they free from 
 suspicion of plotting and nefarious designs. 
 And, unless they expiate their fault by public 
 penance when all the brethren are gathered 
 together, none of them is allowed to be present 
 at the prayers of the brethren. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 How no one is allowed to pray with one who has been sus- 
 pended from prayer. 
 
 Further, if one of them has been suspended 
 from prayer for some fault which he has com- 
 mitted, no one has any liberty of praying with 
 him before he performs his penance on the 
 ground, 4 and reconciliation and pardon for his 
 offence has been publicly granted to him by 
 the Abbot before all the brethren. For by a 
 plan of this kind they separate and cut them- 
 selves off from fellowship with him in prayer 
 for this reason — because they believe that one 
 who is suspended from prayer is, as the Apostle 
 says, " delivered unto Satan :" 5 and if any one, 
 moved by an ill-considered affection, dares to 
 hold communion with him in prayer before 
 he has been received by the Elder, he makes 
 himself partaker of his damnation, and deliv- 
 ers himself up of his own free will to Satan, to 
 whom the other had been consigned for the 
 correction of his guilt. And in this he falls 
 into a more grievous offence because, by unit- 
 ing with him in fellowship either in talk or 
 in prayer, he gives him grounds for still greater 
 arrogance, and only encourages and makes 
 worse the obstinacy of the offender. For, by 
 
 4 Cf. III. vii., and the description of this penance in IV. xvi. 
 
 5 i Cor. v. 5 ; i Tim. i. 20. 
 
212 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 giving him a consolation that is only hurtful, 
 he will make his heart still harder, and not 
 let him humble himself for the fault for which 
 he was excommunicated; and through this he 
 will make him hold the Elder's rebuke as of no 
 consequence, and harbour deceitful thoughts 
 about satisfaction and absolution. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 How he who rouses them for prayer ought to call them at 
 the usual time. 
 
 But he who has been entrusted with the 
 office of summoning the religious assembly and 
 with the care of the service should not presume 
 to rouse the brethren for their daily vigils 
 irregularly, as he pleases, or as he may wake 
 up in the night, or as the accident of his own 
 sleep or sleeplessness may incline him. But, 
 although daily habit may constrain him to 
 wake at the usual hour, yet by often and 
 anxiously ascertaining by the course of the 
 stars the right hour for service, he should 
 summon them to the office of prayer, lest he 
 
 be found careless in one of two ways: either 
 if, overcome with sleep, he lets the proper 
 hour of the night go by, or if, wanting to go 
 to bed and impatient for his sleep, he antici- 
 pates it, and so maybe thought to have secured 
 his own repose instead of attending to the 
 spiritual office and the rest of all the others. * 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 How they do not kneel from the evening of Saturday till the 
 evening of Sunday. 
 
 This, too, we ought to know, — that from the 
 evening of Saturday which precedes the Sun- 
 day, 2 up to the following evening, among the 
 Egyptians they never kneel, nor from Easter 
 to Whitsuntide; 3 nor do they at these times 
 observe a rule of fasting, 4 the reason for 
 which shall be explained in its proper place 
 in the Conferences of the Elders, 5 if the Lord 
 permits. At present we only propose to run 
 through the causes very briefly, lest our book 
 exceed its due limits and prove tiresome or 
 burdensome to the reader. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 OF THE CANONICAL SYSTEM OF THE DAILY PRAYERS AND PSALMS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Of the services of the third, sixth, and ninth hours, which are 
 observed in the regions of Syria. 
 
 The nocturnal system of prayers and Psalms 
 as observed throughout Egypt has been, I 
 think, by God's help, explained so far as our 
 slender ability was able; and now we must 
 speak of the services of Tierce, Sext, and 
 None, according to the rule of the monas- 
 teries of Palestine and Mesopotamia, 6 as we 
 said in the Preface, and must moderate by the 
 customs of these the perfection and inimitable 
 rigour of the discipline of the Egyptians. 
 
 1 The rule of S. Benedict is similarly careful that the brethren 
 may not oversleep themselves. See c. xi. and xlvii. 
 
 2 Qua: lucescit imn die dominicum. The phrase is borrowed by 
 Cassian from the Latin of S. Matt, xxviii. i. 
 
 3 Tot is Qui71quagesim.ee digitus. See above on c. vi. 
 
 4 That this was the rule of the primitive Church is shown by 
 Tertulhan, De Corona A/iiitis, c. iii. " We count fasting or kneel- 
 ing in worship on the Lord's day to be unlawful. We rejoice in the 
 same privilege, also, from Easter to Whitsunday." And even earlier, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 How among the Egyptians they apply themselves all day 
 long to prayer and Psalms continually, with the addition of 
 work, without distinction of hours. 
 
 For among them (viz., the Egyptians) these 
 offices which we are taught to render to the 
 Lord at separate hours and at intervals of 
 time, with a reminder from the convener, are 
 celebrated continuously throughout the whole 
 
 in a fragment of Irenajus, there is a mention of the fact that Chris- 
 tians abstained from kneeling on Sunday in token of the resurrec- 
 tion. For later testimonies see Ambrose, Efi. 119, adjanuarium. 
 Epiphanius, on Heresies, Book III. (Vol. 111. p. 5S3, ed. Dindorf). 
 Jerome, Dial: Adv. Lucif. c. iv. ; and the Twentieth Canon of the 
 Council of Nicsa, with Canon Bright's notes (Notes on the Canons 
 of tlie First Four General Councils, p. 72). 
 
 6 Cf. the Conferences XXI. xi. 
 
 c According to S. Jerome, Hilarion was the first to introduce the 
 monastic life into Palestine (Vita Hilar.). His work was carried on 
 by his companion and pupil Hesycas, and Epiphanius, afterwards 
 Bishop of Salamis in Cyprus. In Asia Minor S. Basil was the 
 greater organizer of monasticism, though, as he tells us, there were 
 already many monks, not only in Egypt, but also in Palestine, 
 Ccelosyria, and Mesopotamia (Ep. cexxiii.). See also on the early 
 monks' of Palestine and the East, Sozomen, H. E., Book VI., cc. 
 xxxii.-xxxv. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 213 
 
 day, with the addition of work, and that of 
 their own free will. For manual labour is 
 incessantly practised by them in their cells in 
 such a way that meditation on the Psalms and 
 the rest of the Scriptures is never entirely 
 omitted. And as with it at every moment 
 they mingle suffrages and prayers, they spend 
 the whole day in those offices which we cele- 
 brate at fixed times. Wherefore, except Ves- 
 pers and Nocturns, there are no public services 
 among them in the day except on Saturday and 
 Sunday, when they meet together at the third 
 hour for the purpose of Holy Communion. 1 
 For that which is continuously offered is more 
 than what is rendered at intervals of time; 
 and more acceptable as a free gift than the 
 duties which are performed by the compulsion 
 of a rule : as David for this rejoices somewhat 
 exultingly when he says, " Freely will I sacri- 
 fice unto Thee;" and, "Let the free will offer- 
 ings of my mouth be pleasing to Thee, O 
 Lord." 2 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 How throughout all the East the services of Tierce, Sext, 
 and None are ended with only three Psalms and prayers 
 each ; and the reason why these spiritual offices are assigned 
 more particularly to those hours. 
 
 And so in the monasteries of Palestine and 
 Mesopotamia and all the East the services of 
 the above-mentioned hours are ended each day 
 with three Psalms apiece, so that constant 
 prayers may be offered to God at the appointed 
 times, and yet, the spiritual duties being com- 
 pleted with due moderation, the necessary of- 
 fices of work may not be in any way interfered 
 with : for at these three seasons we know that 
 Daniel the prophet also poured forth his 
 prayers to God day by day in his chamber 
 with the windows open. 3 Nor is it without 
 good reasons that these times are more particu- 
 larly assigned to religious offices, since at them 
 what completed the promises and summed up 
 our salvation was fulfilled. For we can show 
 that at the third hour the Holy Spirit, who had 
 been of old promised by the prophets, de- 
 scended in the first instance on the Apostles 
 assembled together for prayer. For when in 
 their astonishment at the speaking with 
 tongues, which proceeded from them through 
 
 1 The Saturday Communion (in addition to that of Wednesday 
 and Friday, as well as Sunday) is also mentioned by S. Basil (Ep. 
 xciii.), and cf. the Forty-ninth Canon of the Council of Laodica;a 
 (circa 360 a.d.): " During; Lent the bread shall not be offered except 
 on Saturday and Sunday." In the West there is no trace of a spe- 
 cial Saturday celebration of the Holy Communion. 
 
 The third hour was the ordinary time for Holy Communion, as 
 may be seen from the decree (falsely) ascribed to Pope Telesphorus 
 (a.d. 127-138), in the Liber Po7itificalis: " Ut nullus ante horam 
 tertiam sacrificium offere prasumeret," and many other testimonies. 
 
 2 Ps. liii. (liv.) 8; cxviii. (cxix.) 108. 
 
 3 Cf. Daniel vi. 10. 
 
 the outpouring of the Holy Ghost upon them, 
 the unbelieving people of the lews mocked 
 and said that they were full of new wine, then 
 Peter, standing up in the midst of them, said: 
 ''Men of Israel, and all ye who dwell at Jeru- 
 salem, let this be known unto you, and consider 
 my words. For these men are not, as ye 
 imagine, drunk, since it is the third hour of 
 the day; but this is that which was spoken by 
 the prophet Joel : and it shall come to pass in 
 the last days, saith the Lord, I will pour out 
 of my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and 
 your daughters shall prophesy, and your young 
 men shall see visions and your old men shall 
 dream dreams. And indeed upon my servants 
 and my handmaids in those days I will pour 
 out of my Spirit, and they shall prophesy." 4 
 And all of this was fulfilled at the third hour, 
 when the Holy Spirit, announced before by the 
 prophets, came at that hour and abode upon 
 the Apostles. But at the sixth hour the spotless 
 Sacrifice, our Lord and Saviour, was offered 
 up to the Father, and, ascending the cross for 
 the salvation of the whole world, made atone- 
 ment for the sins of mankind, and, despoiling 
 principalities and powers, led them away 
 openly; and all of us who were liable to death 
 and bound by the debt of the handwriting that 
 could not be paid, He freed, by taking it away 
 out of the midst and affixing it to His cross 
 for a trophy. 5 At the same hour, too, to Peter, 
 in an ecstasy of mind, there was divinely re- 
 vealed both the calling of the Gentiles by the 
 letting down of the Gospel vessel from heaven, 
 and also the cleansing of all the living crea- 
 tures contained in it, when a voice came to 
 him and said to him: "Rise, Peter; kill and 
 eat; " 6 which vessel, let down from heaven by 
 the four corners, is plainly seen to signify 
 nothing else than the Gospel. For although, 
 as it is divided by the fourfold narrative of 
 the Evangelists, it seems to have "four cor- 
 ners" (or beginnings), yet the body of the 
 Gospel is but one ; embracing, as it does, the 
 birth as well as the Godhead, and the miracles 
 as well as the passion of one and the same 
 Christ. Excellently, too, it says not "of 
 linen " but " as if of linen. " For linen signifies 
 death. Since, then, our Lord's death and pas- 
 sion were not undergone by the law of human 
 nature, but of His own free will, it says " as if 
 of linen." For when dead according to the 
 flesh He was not dead according to the spirit, 
 because "His soul was notieft in hell, neither 
 
 4 Acts ii. 14-18. 
 
 5 The whole passage is alluding to Col. ii. 14, 15, which runs as 
 follows in the Vulgate : " Delens quod adversum nos erat chirograf- 
 fum decretis, quod erat contrarium nobis, et ipse tulit de medio, affi- 
 gens illud cruci, expolians principatus et potestates traduxit confiden- 
 ter, palam triumphans illos in semet ipso." 
 
 6 Acts x. 11 sg. 
 
214 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 did His flesh see corruption." 1 And again 
 He says: "No man taketh My life from Me : 
 but I lay it down of Myself. I have power to 
 lay it down, and I have power to take it 
 again." 2 And so in this vessel of the Gospels 
 let down from heaven, that is written by the 
 Holy Ghost, all the nations which were for- 
 merly outside the observance of the law and 
 reckoned as unclean now flow together through 
 belief in the faith that they may to their sal- 
 vation be turned away from the worship of 
 idols and be serviceable for health-giving food, 
 and are brought to Peter and cleansed by the 
 voice of the Lord. But at the ninth hour, 
 penetrating to hades, He there by the bright- 
 ness of His splendour extinguished the inde- 
 scribable darkness of hell, and, bursting its 
 brazen gates and breaking the iron bars, 
 brought away with Him to the skies the captive 
 band of saints which was there shut up and 
 detained in the darkness of inexorable hell, 3 
 and, by taking away the fiery sword, restored 
 to paradise its original inhabitants by his pious 
 confession. At the same hour, too, Cornelius, 
 the centurion, continuing with his customary 
 devotion in his prayers, is made aware through 
 the converse of the angel with him that his 
 prayers and alms are remembered before the 
 Lord, and at the ninth hour the mystery 4 of 
 the calling of the Gentiles is clearly shown to 
 him, which had been revealed to Peter in his 
 ecstasy of mind at the sixth hour. In another 
 passage, too, in the Acts of the Apostles, we are 
 told as follows about the same time: "But 
 Peter and John went up into the temple at the 
 hour of prayer, the ninth hour." 5 And by 
 these notices it is clearly proved that these 
 hours were not without good reason conse- 
 crated with religious services by holy and 
 apostolic men, and ought to be observed in 
 like manner by us, who, unless we are com- 
 pelled, as it were, by some rule to discharge 
 these pious offices at least at stated times, 
 either through sloth or through forgetfulness, 
 or being absorbed in business, spend the whole 
 day without engaging in prayer. But concern- 
 ing the evening sacrifices what is to be said, 
 since even in the Old Testament these are 
 
 1 Ps. xv. (xvi.) 10. 
 
 1 S. John x. iS. 
 
 3 The belief that by the descent into hell our Lord released some 
 who were there detained was almost, if not quite, universal in the 
 early ages, and is recognized by a large number of the Fathers. It 
 is alluded to by so early a writer as Ignatius (Ad Magn. ix.), and 
 appears in Irenaeus (IV. c. xlii.) as a tradition of those who had seen 
 the Apostles. See also Tertullian, De Anuria, c. lv., and a host of 
 later writers. 
 
 1 Sacramentum. This word is used by Cassian, as by other 
 Latin writers, as the regular equivalent of the Greek fiucrTijpioi', ar >d 
 as such is applied to sacred truths equally with sacred rites. See 
 Book V. xxxiv.: " Sacramentascriptorum ; " Conferences IX. xxxiv. : 
 " Sacramentum resurrectionis Domimcae." And again and again the 
 word is used of the mystery of the Incarnation in the books against 
 Nestorius. 
 
 Acts iii. i. 
 
 ordered to be offered continually by the law 
 of Moses? For that the morning whole-burnt 
 offerings and evening sacrifices were offered 
 every day continually in the temple, although 
 with figurative offerings, we can show from 
 that which is sung by David: " Let my prayer 
 be set forth in Thy sight as the incense, and 
 let the lifting up of my hands be an evening 
 sacrifice," 6 in which place we can understand 
 it in a still higher sense of that true evening 
 sacrifice which was given by the Lord our 
 Saviour in the evening to the Apostles at the 
 Supper, when He instituted the holy mysteries 
 of the Church, and of that evening sacrifice 
 which He Himself, on the following day, in 
 the end of the ages, offered up to the Father 
 by the lifting up of His hands for the salva- 
 tion of the whole world; which spreading 
 forth of His hands on the Cross is quite 
 correctly called a "lifting up." For when 
 we were all lying in hades He raised us to 
 heaven, according to the word of His own 
 promise when He says: "When I am lifted 
 up from the earth, I will draw all men unto 
 Me." 7 But concerning Mattins, that also 
 teaches us which it is customary every day to 
 sing at it: "O God, my God, to Thee do I 
 watch at break of day ; " and " I will meditate 
 on Thee in the morning;" and "I prevented 
 the dawning of the day and cried ; " and again, 
 " Mine eyes to Thee have prevented the morn- 
 ing, that I might meditate on Thy words." 8 At 
 these hours too that householder in the Gospel 
 hired labourers into his vineyard. For thus 
 also is he described as having hired them in 
 the early morning, which time denotes the Mat- 
 tin office; then at the third hour; then at the 
 sixth; after this, at the ninth; and last of all, 
 at the eleventh, 9 by which the hour of the 
 lamps 10 is denoted. 11 
 
 6 Ps. cxl. (cxli.) 2. 
 
 7 S. John xii. 32. 
 
 8 Pss. lxii. (lxiii.) 2, 7; cxviii. (cxix.) 147, 8. In both East and 
 West Ps. lxii. (lxiii.) has from very early times been used as a morn- 
 ing hymn. See the Apost. Constitutions II. lix., VIII. xxxvii. In 
 the East it is still one of the fixed Psalms at Lauds, as it is also in 
 the West, according to the Roman use. But in Cassian's time it 
 had apparently been transferred from Lauds to Prime. See below, 
 c. vi. 
 
 9 S. Matt. xx. 1-6. 
 
 10 Lucernaris hora; i.e., the hour for Vespers, which is some- 
 times called lucernarium or lucernalis. S. Jerome in Ps. cxix. S. 
 Augustine, Scrmo i ad fratres in er. 
 
 11 It will be noticed that in this chapter Cassian alludes to five 
 offices: (1) A morning office; (2) the third hour; (3) the sixth ; (4) 
 the ninth ; and (5) Vespers ; and gives the grounds for their observ- 
 ance. Similar grounds are given by Cyprian, De Orat. Dominica sub 
 
 fine: "For upon the disciples, at the third hour, the Holy Spirit 
 
 descended, who fulfilled the grace of the Lord's promise. Moreover, 
 
 at the sixth hour, Peter, going up to the housetop, was instructed as 
 
 well by the sign as by the word of God, admonishing him to receive 
 
 all to the grace of salvation, whereas he was previously doubtful of 
 
 the receiving of the Gentiles to baptism. And from the sixth hour 
 
 to the ninth the Lord, being crucified, washed away our sins by His 
 
 j blood ; and that He might redeem and quicken us, He then accom- 
 
 I plished His victory by His passion. But for us, beloved brethren, 
 
 J besides the hours of prayer observed of old, both the times and the 
 
 sacraments have now increased in number. For we must also pray 
 
 in the morning, that the Lord's resurrection may be celebrated by 
 
 I morning prayer. . . . Also at the sun-setting and decline of day we 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 215 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 How the Mattin office was not appointed by an ancient tra- 
 dition but was started in our own day for a definite reason. 
 
 But you must know that this Mattins, which 
 is now very generally observed in Western 
 countries, was appointed as a canonical office 
 in our own day, and also in our own monastery, 
 where our Lord Jesus Christ was born of a 
 Virgin and deigned to submit to growth in 
 infancy as man, and where by His Crace He 
 supported our own infancy, still tender in 
 religion, and, as it were, fed with milk. 1 For 
 up till that time we find that when this office 
 of Mattins (which is generally celebrated after 
 a short interval after the Psalms and prayers 
 of Nocturns in the monasteries of Gaul) was 
 finished, together with the daily vigils, the re- 
 maining hours were assigned by our Elders to 
 bodily refreshment. But when some rather 
 carelessly abused this indulgence and pro- 
 longed their time for sleep too long, as they 
 were not obliged by the requirements of any 
 service to leave their cells or rise from their 
 beds till the third hour; and when, as well 
 as losing their labour, they were drowsy from 
 excess of sleep in the daytime, when they ought 
 to have been applying themselves to some 
 duties, (especially on those days when an un- 
 usually oppressive weariness was caused by 
 their keeping watch from the evening till 
 the approach of morning), a complaint was 
 brought to the Elders by some of the brethren 
 who were ardent in spirit and in no slight 
 measure disturbed by this carelessness, and it 
 was determined by them after long discussion 
 and anxious consideration that up till sunrise, 
 when they could without harm be ready to read 
 or to undertake manual labour, time for rest 
 should be given to their wearied bodies, and 
 after this they should all be summoned to the 
 observance of this service and should rise from 
 their beds, and by reciting three Psalms and 
 prayers (after the order anciently fixed for the 
 
 must pray again. For since Christ is the true Sun and the true Day, 
 as the worldly sun and day depart, when we prav and ask that light 
 may return to us again, we pray for the advent of Christ, which shall 
 give us the grace of everlasting light." Cf . also S. Basil, The Greater 
 Monastic Rules, Q. xxxvii., where the same subject is discussed, and 
 Apost. Const. Book VIII. c. xxxiv. In later times the Seven Canoni- 
 cal Hours were all connected with the events of our Lord's Passion, 
 and supposed to commemorate His sufferings, as the following 
 stanzas show : — 
 
 At Mattins bound, at Prime reviled, 
 
 Condemned to death at Tierce, 
 Nailed to the Cross at Sext, at Nones 
 
 His blessed side tr ey pierce. 
 
 They take Him down at Vesper-tide, 
 
 In grave at Compline lay; 
 Who thenceforth bids His Church observe 
 
 Her sevenfold hours alway. 
 
 1 The allusion is to the monastery at Bethlehem, where Cassian 
 had himself been educated. See the Introduction. 
 
 observance of Tierce and Sext, to signify the 
 confession of the Trinity) 2 should at the same 
 time by an uniform arrangement put an end to 
 their sleep and make a beginning to their 
 work. And this form, although it may seem 
 to have arisen out of an accident and to have 
 been appointed within recent memory for the 
 reason given above, yet it clearly makes up 
 according to the letter that number which the 
 blessed David indicates (although it can be 
 taken spiritually) : " Seven times a day do I 
 praise Thee because of Thy righteous judg- 
 ments." 3 For by the addition of this service 
 we certainly hold these spiritual assemblies 
 seven times a day, and are shown to sing 
 praises to God seven times in it. 4 Lastly, 
 though this same form, starting from the East, 
 has most beneficially spread to these parts, 
 yet still in some long-established monasteries 
 in the East, which will not brook the slight- 
 est violation of the old rules of the Fathers, 
 it seems never to have been introduced. 5 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 How they ought not to go back to bed again after the Mattin 
 prayers. 
 
 But some in this province, not knowing the 
 reason why this office was appointed and in- 
 troduced, go back again to bed after their 
 Mattin prayers are finished, and in spite of it 
 fall into that very habit to check which our 
 Elders instituted this service. For they are 
 eager to finish it at that hour, that an opportu- 
 nity may be given, to those who are inclined to 
 be indifferent and not careful enough, to go 
 back to bed again, which most certainly ought 
 not to be done (as we showed more fully in 
 the previous book when describing the service 
 of the Egyptians), 6 for fear least the force of 
 
 2 Trina? confessionis exemflo. The words appear to mean that 
 the three Psalms used at these offices are significant of the Persons 
 of the Holy Trinity. So somewhat similarly Cyprian (on the Lord's 
 Prayer) speaks of the third, sixth, and ninth hours being observed as 
 a sacrament of the Trinity. 
 
 3 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 164. 
 
 4 This second " Mattins" of which Cassian has been speaking is 
 the service which the later Church called Prime, Cassian's first 
 Mattins corresponding to Lauds, and his Nocturns, or " Vigiliae," 
 to Mattins. Thus the "seven hours" are made up as follows: (1) 
 Nocturns or Mattins, (2) Lands, (3) Prime, (4) Tierce, (5) Sext, (6) 
 None, (7) Vespers. Compline, it will be noticed, had not yet been 
 introduced. This appears for the first time in the Rule of S. Bene- 
 dict (c. xvi.), a century later. By its introduction the " day hours " 
 were made up to seven, Nocturns belonging strictly to the night, 
 and answering to the Psalmist's words, " At midnight will I rise to 
 give thanks to Thee." Ps. cxix. 62. 
 
 5 The introduction of Prime appears to have been very gradual, 
 even in the West; for, though an office for it is prescribed in S. Bene- 
 dict (c. xix.), yet there is no mention of it in the Rule of Caesarius of 
 Aries for monks, nor in that of Isidore of Seville, and it is omitted 
 by Cassiodorus in his enumeration of the seven hours observed by 
 the monks. After Benedict the next to mention it appears to be 
 Aurelius, a successor of Caesarius at Aries, and by degrees it made 
 its way to universal adoption in the West. In the Greek Church the 
 office for it is said continuously with Lauds (to bpOpov). 
 
 6 Book II. c. xiii. 
 
216 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 our natural passions should be aroused and 
 stain that purity of ours which was gained by 
 humble confession and prayers before the 
 dawn, or some illusion of the enemy pollute 
 us, or even the repose of a pure and natural 
 sleep interfere with the fervour of our spirit 
 and make us lazy and slothful throughout the 
 whole day, as we are chilled by the slug- 
 gishness caused by sleep. And to avoid this 
 the Egyptians, and especially as they are in 
 the habit of rising at fixed times even before 
 the cock-crow, when the canonical office * has 
 been celebrated, afterwards prolong their vigils 
 even to daylight, that the morning light when 
 it comes on them may find them established 
 in fervour of spirit, and keep them still more 
 careful and fervent all through the day, as it 
 has found them prepared for the conflict and 
 strengthened against their daily struggle with 
 the devil by the practice of nocturnal vigils 
 and spiritual meditation. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 How no change was made by the Elders in the ancient system 
 of Psalms when the Mattin office was instituted. 
 
 But this too we ought to know, viz., that no 
 change was made in the ancient arrangement 
 of Psalms by our Elders who decided that this 
 Mattin service should be added ; 2 but that 
 office 8 was always celebrated in their nocturnal 
 assemblies according to the same order as it 
 had been before. For the hymns which in 
 this country they used at the Mattin service at 
 the close of the nocturnal vigils, which they 
 are accustomed to finish after the cock-crowing 
 and before dawn, these they still sing in 
 like manner; viz., Ps. 148, beginning "O 
 praise the Lord from heaven," and the rest 
 which follow; but the 50th Psalm and the 
 62nd, and the 89th have, we know, been 
 
 1 Missa. 
 
 2 I.e., Prime. Some confusion is likely to be caused by the fact 
 that Cassian speaks of both " Lauds " and " Prime " by the same title 
 of Mattins. Immediately below, where he speaks of the " Mattin 
 service at the close of the nocturnal vigils " he is referring to Lauds, 
 which always followed immediately (or after a very short interval) 
 after Nocturns, or Mattins. At this service Pss. cxlviii.-cl. have 
 always been sung ; indeed, they form the characteristic feature which 
 
 fives the service its name of " Lauds " (oi atvot). Of the other three 
 'salms, 1. (li.), lxii. (lxiii.), and lxxxix. (xc), which Cassian says had 
 been transferred from Lauds to the newly instituted service of Prime, 
 lxii. has been already spoken of as a morning hymn of the early 
 Church (see the notes on c. iii.), and we learn from S. Basil that in 
 his day Ps. 1. (6 t?js ef o/uoAoy?/crews ii/aA/u.6?) was regularly sung after 
 Mattins when the dav began to break {Efi. ccvii. ad clericos Neo- Cces.}, 
 and it is still a Laauds Psalm in both East and West, lxxxix. (xc.) is 
 now one of the fixed Psalms at Prime in the East, but in the West 
 it is, according to the Roman rule, sung at Lauds on Thursdays 
 only. Thus it would appear that the transfer of these three Psalms 
 from Lauds to Prime, of which Cassian speaks, never obtained 
 widely, but that the older arrangement, whereby, at any rate, 1. and 
 lxii. were assigned to Lauds, has generally been adhered to both in 
 the East and West. Cf. the Rule of S. Benedict, according to which 
 Ps. 1. is sung daily at Lauds, and lxii. as well on Sundays (c. xii., xiii.). 
 
 3 Missa. 
 
 assigned to this new service. Lastly, through- 
 out Italy at this day, when the Mattin hymns 
 are ended, the 50th Psalm is sung in all the 
 churches, which I have no doubt can only 
 have been derived from this source. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 How one who does not come to the daily prayer before the 
 end of the first Psalm is not allowed to enter the Oratory ; 
 but at Nocturns a late arrival up to the end of the second 
 Psalm can be overlooked. 
 
 But one who at Tierce, Sext, or None has 
 not come to prayer before the Psalm is begun 
 and finished does not venture further to enter 
 the Oratory nor to join himself to those sing- 
 ing the Psalms; but, standing outside, he 
 awaits the breaking-up of the congregation, 4 
 and while they are all coming out does penance 
 lying on the ground, and obtains absolution 
 for his carelessness and lateness, knowing that 
 he' can in no other way expiate the fault of his 
 sloth, nor can ever be admitted to the service 
 which will follow three hours later, unless he 
 has been quick to make satisfaction at once 
 for his present negligence by the help of true 
 humility. But in the nocturnal assemblies a 
 late arrival up to the second Psalm is allowed, 
 provided that before the Psalm is finished and 
 the brethren bow down in prayer he makes 
 haste to take his place in the congregation 
 and join them; but he will most certainly be 
 subjected to the same blame and penance 
 which we mentioned before if he has delayed 
 ever so little beyond the hour permitted for a 
 late arrival. 5 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Of the Vigil service which is celebrated on the evening pre- 
 ceding the Sabbath ; of its length, and the manner in which 
 it is observed. 
 
 In the winter time, however, when the nights 
 are longer, the Vigils, 6 which are celebrated 
 every week on the evening at the commencing 
 the Sabbath, are arranged by the elders in the 
 monasteries to last till the fourth cock-crow- 
 
 4 Congregationis missam. 
 
 5 The Rule of S. Benedict has similar provisions, allowing a late 
 arrival at Mattins till the Gloria after the Venite (the second Psalm, 
 as it is preceded by Ps. iii.), and at the other services till the Gloria 
 after the first Psalm. " If any come later than this, he is not to take 
 his usual place in the choir, but stand last of all, or take whatever 
 place the Abbot may have appointed for those who are guilty of a 
 similar neglect, so that he may be seen of all_; and in this place he is 
 to remain until he shall have made public satisfaction, at the end of 
 the office. We deem it necessary," the Rule proceeds, " to place 
 such offenders thus apart, that, being thus exposed to the view of 
 all their brethren, they may be shamed into a sense of duty. More- 
 over, if such were allowed to remain outside the church, they might 
 either sit down at their ease, or while away their time in chatting, or 
 perhaps return to the dormitory and compose themselves to sleep, 
 and thus expose themselves to the temptations of the enemy." Rule 
 of S. Benedict, c. xliii. 
 
 6 Vigiliot is here used as the equivalent of Nocturns. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 217 
 
 ing, for this reason, viz., that after the watch 
 through the whole night they may, by resting 
 their bodies for the remaining time of nearly 
 two hours, avoid flagging through drowsiness 
 the whole day long, and be content with repose 
 for this short time instead of resting the whole 
 night. And it is proper for us, too, to observe 
 this with the utmost care, that we may be con- 
 tent with the sleep which is allowed us after 
 the office of Vigils up to daybreak, — i.e., till 
 the Mattin Psalms, 1 — and afterwards spend 
 the whole day in work and necessary duties, lest 
 through weariness from the Vigils, and feeble- 
 ness, we might be forced to take by day the 
 sleep which we cut off from the night, and so 
 be thought not to have cut short our bodily 
 rest so much as to have changed our time for 
 repose and nightly retirement. For our feeble 
 flesh could not possibly be defrauded of the 
 whole night's rest and yet keep its vigour un- 
 shaken throughout the following day without 
 sleepiness of mind and heaviness of spirit, as 
 it will be hindered rather than helped by this 
 unless after Vigils are over it enjoys a short 
 slumber. And, therefore, if, as we have sug- 
 gested, at least an hour's sleep is snatched 
 before daybreak, we shall save all the hours 
 of Vigils which we have spent all through the 
 night in prayer, granting to nature what is due 
 to it, and having no necessity of taking back 
 by day what we have cut off from the night. 
 For a man will certainly have to give up every- 
 thing to this flesh if he tries, not in a rational 
 manner to withhold a part only, but to refuse 
 the whole, and (to speak candidly) is anxious 
 to cut off not what is superfluous but what is 
 necessary. Wherefore Vigils have to be made 
 up for with greater interest if they are pro- 
 longed with ill-considered and unreasonable 
 length till daybreak. And so they divide them 
 into an office in three parts, that by this variety 
 the effort may be distributed and the exhaus- 
 tion of the body relieved by some agreeable 
 relaxation. For when standing they have 
 sung three Psalms antiphonally, 2 after this, 
 sitting on the ground or in very low stalls, 
 one of them repeats three Psalms, while the 
 rest respond, each Psalm being assigned to 
 one of the brethren, who succeed each other 
 in turn; and to these they add three lessons 
 while still sitting quietly. And so, by lessen- 
 ing their bodily exertion, they manage to ob- 
 serve their Vigils with greater attention of 
 mind. 8 
 
 1 I.e., the office of Lauds. 
 
 2 Tria Antiphona. The word is here used (as above, II. c. ii.), 
 not in the modern sense of antiphon, but to denote a Psalm or Psalms 
 sung antiphonally. 
 
 3 In this chapter Cassian describes two of the different methods 
 of Psalmody employed in the ancient Church: (1) Antiphonal sing- 
 ing, where the congregation was divided into two parts, or choirs, 
 which sang alternate verses ; (2) the method according to which one 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The reason why a Vigil is appointed as the Sabbath day 
 dawns, and why a dispensation from fasting is enjoyed on 
 the Sabbath all through the East. 
 
 And throughout the whole of the East it 
 has been settled, ever since the time of the 
 preaching of the Apostles, when the Christian 
 faith and religion was founded, that these 
 Vigils should be celebrated as the Sabbath 
 dawns, 4 for this reason, — because, when our 
 Lord and Saviour had been crucified on the 
 sixth day of the week, the disciples, over- 
 whelmed by the freshness of His sufferings, 
 remained watching throughout the whole 
 night, giving no rest or sleep to their eyes. 
 Wherefore, since .that time, a service of Vigils 
 has been appointed for this night, and is stillt 
 observed in the same way up to the presene 
 day all through the East. And so, after the 
 exertion of the Vigil, a dispensation from fast- 
 ing, appointed in like manner for the Sabbath 
 by apostolic men, 5 is not without reason en- 
 joined in all the churches of the East, in 
 accordance with that saying of Ecclesiastes, 
 which, although it has another and a mystical 
 sense, is not misapplied to this, by which we 
 are charged to give to both days — that is, to 
 the seventh and eighth equally — the same 
 share of the service, as it says : " Give a portion 
 to these seven and also to these eight." 6 For 
 this dispensation from fasting must not be un- 
 derstood as a participation in the Jewish fes- 
 tival by those above all who are shown to be 
 free from all Jewish superstition, but as con- 
 tributing to that rest of the wearied body of 
 which we have spoken; which, as it fasts con- 
 tinually for five days in the week all through 
 the year, would easily be worn out and fail, 
 unless it were revived by an interval of at 
 least two days. 
 
 voice alone sang the first part of the verse, and the rest of the con- 
 gregation joined in at the close. Both methods are described in a 
 well-known passage in an Epistle of S. Basil (Ep. ccvii. ad clericos 
 Neocoas), where he tells us that in the morning service, at one time, 
 the people divide themselves into two parties, and sing antiphonally 
 to each other (avTi^aWovaiv aAAjjAois), while at another time they 
 entrust to one person the duty of beginning the strain, and the rest 
 respond (vrn]\ov<Ti). This latter method seems to have been a very 
 favourite one, the Psalms which were thus sung being called Respon- 
 soria. See Isidore, De Offic, i. S; and compare the Dictionary 0/ 
 Christian Antiquities, Vol. II. p. 1745; and Bingham, Antiquities, 
 Book XIV. c. 1. A third method has been already described by 
 Cassian in Book II. c. xi. ; viz., that called Tractus, where the Psalm 
 was executed by a single voice, while all the rest of the congregation 
 listened. 
 
 4 The observance of a vigil for the whole or greater part of the 
 night was a regular part of the preparation for the greater festivals, 
 and as such was usual in the East before the Sabbath (Saturday) and 
 Lord's Day, as well as Pentecost and Easter. See Socrates, H. E., 
 VI. viii., where there is an allusion to this. 
 
 6 Saturday, as well as Sunday, was long regarded as a festival in 
 the East, and, indeed, originally in most churches of the West as 
 well. See the Apost. Const. II. lix. 1; VIII. xxxiii. 1. 
 Canons lxvi.; Council of Laodicasa, Canons xvi., xlix., Ii. 
 
 6 Eccl. xi. 2. 
 
218 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 How it was brought about that they fast on the Sabbath in 
 the city. 
 
 But some people in some countries of the 
 West, and especially in the city, 1 not knowing 
 the reason of this indulgence, think that a dis- 
 pensation from fasting ought certainly not to 
 be allowed on the Sabbath, because they say 
 that on this day the Apostle Peter fasted be- 
 fore his encounter with Simon." But from 
 this it is quite clear that he did this not in 
 accordance with a canonical rule, but rather 
 through the needs of his impending struggle. 
 Since there, too, for the same purpose, Peter 
 seems to have imposed on his disciples not a 
 general but a special fast, which he certainly 
 would not have done if he had known that it 
 was wont to be observed by canonical rule ; 
 just as he would surely have been ready to 
 appoint it even on Sunday, if the occasion of 
 his struggle had fallen upon it: but no canon- 
 ical rule of fasting would have been made 
 general from this, because it was no general 
 observance that led to it, but a matter of 
 necessity, which forced it to be observed on a 
 single occasion. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Of the points in which the service held on Sunday differs 
 from what is customary on other days. 
 
 But we ought to know this, too, that on 
 Sunday only one office 3 is celebrated before 
 dinner, at which, out of regard for the actual 
 service 4 and the Lord's communion, they use 
 
 1 Viz., Rome. 
 
 2 The Saturday fast was observed at Rome in verv early days, 
 being noticed by Tertullian, who seems to suggest that it originated 
 in the prolongation of the Friday fast (on Fasting, c. xiv). But it 
 seems to have been almost peculiar to Rome, and at Milan, in the 
 time of S. Ambrose, the Eastern custom prevailed. See the impor- 
 tant letter of Augustine to Casulanus (Efi. xxxvi.), where the whole 
 subject of the difference of usage on this matter is fully discussed. 
 The reason here given by Cassian for the origin of the local Roman 
 custom (viz., that S. Peter's traditional encounter with Simon 
 Magus took place on Sunday, and was prepared for by the apostle 
 with a Saturday fast) is also there alluded to bv Augustine as being 
 the opinion of very mauy, though he tells us candidlv that most o'f 
 the Romans thought it false. " Est quidem et haec opinio plurimo- 
 rum, quamvis earn perhibeant esse falsam plerique Romani, quod 
 Apostolus Petrus cum Simone Mago die dominico certaturo, propter 
 ipsum magna? tentationis periculum, pridie cum ejusdem urbis ecclesia 
 jejunaverit, etconsecuto tarn prospero gloriosoque successu, eundem 
 morem tenuerit, eumque imitate sunt nonnulls Occidentis ecclesia;." 
 Cf. also Augustine, Ep. arfjamuirium, liv. 
 
 s Missa. 
 
 4 Collecta. This word, from which our word " Collect " is possi- 
 bly derived, is used for an assembly for worship in the Vulgate in 
 Lev. xxiii. 36; Deut. xvi. 8; 2 Chrori. vii. 9 ; Neh. viii. 18: arid com- 
 pare the phrase, " Ad Collectam," in the Sacramentary of Gregory 
 for the Feast of the Purification. 
 
 a more solemn and a longer service of Psalms 
 and prayers and lessons, and so consider 
 that Tierce and Sext are included in it. And 
 hence it results that, owing to the addition of 
 the lessons, there is no diminution of the 
 amount of their devotions, and yet some differ- 
 ence is made, and an indulgence over other 
 times seems to be granted to the brethren out 
 of reverence for the Lord's resurrection; and 
 this seems to lighten the observance all 
 through the week, and, by reason of the 
 difference which is interposed, it makes the 
 day to be looked forward to more solemnly as 
 a festival, and owing to the anticipation of it 
 the fasts of the coming week are less felt. 
 For any weariness is always borne with greater 
 equanimity, and labour undertaken without 
 aversion, if some variety is interposed or 
 change of work succeeds. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Of the days on which, when supper is provided for the breth- 
 ren, a Psalm is not said as they assemble for the meal, as 
 is usual at dinner. 
 
 Lastly, also, on those days, — i.e., on Satur- 
 day and Sunday, — and on holy days, on 
 which it is usual for both dinner and supper to 
 be provided for the brethren, a Psalm is not 
 said in the evening, either when they come to 
 supper or when they rise from it, as is usual 
 at their ordinary dinner 5 and the canonical re- 
 freshment on fast days, which the customary 
 Psalms usually precede and follow. But they 
 simply make a plain prayer and come to sup- 
 per, and again, when they rise from it, con- 
 clude with prayer alone ; because this repast 
 is something special among the monks : nor 
 are they all obliged to come to it, but it is only 
 for strangers who have come to see the breth- 
 ren, and those whom bodily weakness or their 
 own inclination invites to it. 
 
 c In sollemnihus frandiis. The phrase must here refer to their 
 dinner on ordinary days (cf. solemnitatem ciborum, "their usual 
 food," Book IV. c. xxi.). Among the early monks it was the custom 
 ordinarily to have but one meal a day on the fast days (viz., Wednes- 
 day and Fridav) ; this was at the ninth hour; on other days, at the 
 sixth (i.e., midday). Cf. the Conferences XXI. c. xxiii. On festivals 
 (viz., Saturday, Sunday, and holy days), beside the midday meal, 
 a supper was allowed as well. And on these days, as we learn from 
 the passage before us, the ordinary grace before and after meat was 
 shortened by the omission of the customary Psalms at other times in- 
 cluded in it. On the meals of the monks, cf. S. Jerome's Preface to 
 the Rule of Pachomius and the Rule of S. Benedict, cc. xxxix.-xli., 
 the former of which tells us that, except on Wednesday and Friday, 
 dinner was at midday, and a table was also set for labourers, old men, 
 and children, and (apparently) for all, in the height of summer. For 
 the use of Psalms at grace, see Clement of Alexandria, Poedag. II. 
 iv. 44; Stromateis VII. vii. 49. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 219 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 OF THE INSTITUTES OF THE RENUNCIANTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Of the training of those who renounce this world, and of the 
 way in which those are taught among the monks of Tabenna 
 - and the Egyptians who are received into the monasteries. 
 
 From the canonical system of Psalms and 
 prayers which ought to be observed in the 
 daily services throughout the monasteries, we 
 pass, in the due course of our narrative, to the 
 training of one who renounces this world; 
 endeavouring first, as well as we can, to em- 
 brace, in a short account, the terms on which 
 those who desire to turn to the Lord can be 
 received in the monasteries; adding some 
 things from the rule of the Egyptians, some 
 from that of the monks of Tabenna, 1 whose 
 monastery in the Thebaid is better filled as 
 regards numbers, as it is stricter in the rigour 
 of its system, than all others, for there are in 
 it more than five thousand brethren under the 
 rule of one Abbot; and the obedience with 
 which the whole number of monks is at all 
 times subject to one Elder is what no one 
 among us would render to another even for a 
 short time, or would demand from him. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Of the way in which among them men remain in the mon- 
 asteries even to extreme old age. 
 
 And I think that before anything else we 
 ought to touch on their untiring perseverance 
 and humility and subjection, — how it lasts for 
 so long, and by what system it is formed, 
 through which they remain in the monasteries 
 till they are bent double with old age ; for it 
 is so great that we cannot recollect any one 
 who joined our monasteries keeping it up 
 unbroken even for a year: so that when we 
 have seen the beginning of their renunciation 
 of the world, we shall understand how it came 
 .about that, starting from such a commence- 
 ment, they reached such a height of perfec- 
 tion. 
 
 1 Tabenna, or Tabenna?, was an island in the Nile, where was 
 founded a flourishing monastery by Pachomius c. 330 a.d. Of 
 Pachomius there is a notice in Sozomen H. E., Book III. c. xiv., 
 and his Rule was translated into Latin, with a preface by S. Jerome, 
 who mentions his fame in Ef>. cxxvii. There is a Life of Pachomius 
 given by Rosweyde ( Vitae Patrum), which is said to be a translation 
 of a work by a contemporary of his. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Of the ordeal by which one who is to be received in the mon- 
 astery is tested. 
 
 One, then, who seeks to be admitted to the 
 discipline of the monastery is never received 
 before he gives, by lying outside the doors for 
 ten days or even longer, an evidence of his 
 perseverance and desire, as well as of humility 
 and patience. And when, prostrate at the feet 
 of all the brethren that pass by, and of set 
 purpose repelled and scorned by all of them, 
 as if he was wanting to enter the monastery 
 not for the sake of religion but because he 
 was obliged; and when, too, covered with many 
 insults and affronts, he has given a practical 
 proof of his steadfastness, and has shown what 
 he will be like in temptations by the way he 
 has borne the disgrace ; and when, with the 
 ardour of his soul thus ascertained, he is ad- 
 mitted, then they enquire with the utmost care 
 whether he is contaminated by a single coin 
 from his former possessions clinging to him. 
 For they know that he cannot stay for long 
 under the discipline of the monastery, nor ever 
 learn the virtue of humility and obedience, 
 nor be content with the poverty and difficult 
 life of the monastery, if he knows that ever 
 so small a sum of money has been kept hid; 
 but, as soon as ever a disturbance arises on 
 some occasion or other, he will at once dart 
 off from the monastery like a stone from a 
 sling, impelled to this by trusting in that 
 sum of money. 2 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The reason why those who are received in the monastery are 
 not allowed to bring anything in with them. 
 
 And for these reasons they do not agree to 
 take from him money to be used even for .the 
 
 2 Cf. the Rule of Pachomius, c. xxvi.: " If any one comes to the 
 door of the monastery wanting to renounce the world, and to )oin 
 the number of the brethren, he shall not be allowed to enter, but the 
 Abbot of the monastery must first be told, and he shall stay for a few 
 days outside before the gate, and shall be taught the Lord's Prayer, 
 and as many Psalms as he can learn, and shall diligently give proof 
 of himself that he has not done any thing wrong and fled 111 trouble 
 for the time, and that he is not in any one's power, and that he can 
 forsake his relations and disregard his property. And if they see 
 that he is apt for everythiug, then he shall be taught the rest of the 
 rules of the monastery, — what he ought to do, whom he is to obey," 
 etc.; and, finally, he is to be admitted, See also the Rule of S. 
 Benedict, c. lviii., which is to much the same effect ; and S. Basil's 
 Longer Monastic Rules, Q. x. 
 
220 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 good of the monastery: First, in case he may- 
 be puffed up with arrogance, owing to this 
 offering, and so not deign to put himself on a 
 level with the poorer brethren ; and next, lest 
 he fail through this pride of his to stoop to the 
 humility of Christ, and so, when he cannot 
 hold out under the discipline of the monastery, 
 leave it, and afterwards, when he has cooled 
 down, want in a bad spirit to receive and get 
 back — not without loss to the monastery — 
 what he had contributed in the early days of 
 his renunciation, when he was aglow with 
 spiritual fervour. And that this rule should 
 always be kept they have been frequently 
 taught by many instances. For in some mon- 
 asteries where they are not so careful some who 
 have been received unreservedly have after- 
 wards tried most sacrilegiously to demand a 
 return of that which they had contributed and 
 which had been spent on God's work. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The reason why those who give up the world, when they are 
 received in the monasteries, must lay aside their own clothes 
 and be clothed in others by the Abbot. 
 
 . Wherefore each one on his admission is 
 stripped of all his former possessions, so that 
 he is not allowed any longer to keep even the 
 clothes which he has on his back: but in the 
 council of the brethren he is brought forward 
 into the midst and stripped of his own clothes, 
 and clad by the Abbot's hands in the dress of 
 the monastery, so that by this he may know 
 not only that he has been despoiled of all 
 his old things, but also that he has laid aside 
 all worldly pride, and come down to the want 
 and poverty of Christ, and that he is now to 
 be supported not by wealth sought for by the 
 world's arts, nor by anything reserved from 
 his former state of unbelief, but that he is to 
 receive out of the holy and sacred funds of 
 the monastery his rations for his service; and 
 that, as he knows that he is thence to be 
 clothed and fed and that he has nothing of 
 his own, he may learn, nevertheless, not to be 
 anxious about the morrow, according to the 
 saying of the Gospel, and may not be ashamed 
 to be on a level with the poor, that is with the 
 body of the brethren, with whom Christ was 
 not ashamed to be numbered, and to call him- 
 self their brother, but that rather he may glory 
 that he has been made to share the lot of his 
 own servants. 1 
 
 1 So the Rule of Pachomius (c.xxvi.) orders that on the admission 
 of a monk " they shall strip him of his secular dress, and put on him 
 the garb of the monks;" and that of S.Benedict (c. lviii.), "He 
 shall then be clothed in the' religious habit, and his secular clothes 
 deposited in the wardrobe, that if, at the instigation of the devil, he 
 should ever leave the monastery, they may be given back to him, 
 and the religious dress be taken from him." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The reason why the clothes of the renunciants with which 
 they joined the monastery are preserved by the steward. 
 
 But those clothes, which he laid aside, are 
 consigned to the care of the steward and kept 
 until by different sorts of temptations and 
 trials they can recognize the excellence of his 
 progress and life and endurance. And if they 
 see that he can continue therein as time goes 
 on, and remain in that fervour with which he 
 began, they give them away to the poor. But 
 if they find that he has been guilty of any fault 
 of murmuring, or of even the smallest piece of 
 disobedience, then they strip off from him the 
 dress of the monastery in which he had been 
 clad, and reclothe him in his old garments 
 which had been confiscated, and send him 
 away. 2 For it is not right for him to go away 
 with those which he had received, nor do they 
 allow any one to be any longer dressed in them 
 if they have seen him once grow cold in regard 
 to the rule of their institution. Wherefore, 
 also, the opportunity of going out openly is 
 not given to any one, unless he escapes like 
 a runaway slave by taking advantage of the 
 thickest shades of night, or is judged unworthy 
 of this order and profession and lays aside 
 the dress of the monastery and is expelled with 
 shame and disgrace before all the brethren. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The reason why those who are admitted to a monastery are 
 not permitted to mix at once with the congregation of the 
 brethren, but are first committed to the guest house. 
 
 When, then, any one has been received and 
 proved by that persistence of which we have 
 spoken, and, laying aside his own garments, 
 has been clad in those of the monastery, he 
 is not allowed to mix at once with the congre- 
 gation of the brethren, but is given into the 
 charge of an Elder, who lodges apart not far 
 from the entrance of the monastery, and is en- 
 trusted with the care of strangers and guests, 
 and bestows all his diligence in receiving 
 them kindly. And when he has served there 
 for a whole year without any complaint, and 
 has given evidence of service towards strang- 
 ers, 3 being thus initiated in the first rudiments 
 
 a See the quotation from the Rule of S. Benedict in the note on 
 the last chapter. 
 
 3 In the same way the Rule of S. Benedict (c. lviii.) directs that 
 the novice is to be placed in the guest house for a few days, while 
 that of S. Isidore is more precise in ordering him to be placed there 
 " for three months," and to wait on the guests there. Two months 
 is the period fixed by other rules, but a few days was all that was 
 ultimately required, and Cassian stands alone in mentioning a full 
 year as the duration of this service, though Sozomen speaks of the 
 monks of Tabenna as having to undergo a probation of three vears. 
 H. E., III. xiv. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 221 
 
 of humility and patience, and by long practice 
 in it acknowledged, when he is to be admitted 
 from this into the congregation of the breth- 
 ren he is handed over to another Elder, who 
 is placed over ten of the juniors, who are en- 
 trusted to him by the Abbot, and whom he both 
 teaches and governs in accordance with the 
 arrangement which we read of in Exodus as 
 made by Moses. 1 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Of the practices in which the juniors are first exercised that 
 they may become proficient in overcoming all their desires. 
 
 And his anxiety and the chief part of his in- 
 struction — through which the juniors brought 
 to him may be able in due course to mount to 
 the greatest heights of perfection — will be to 
 teach him first to conquer his own wishes; 
 and, anxiously and diligently practising him 
 in this, he will of set purpose contrive to give 
 him such orders as he knows to be contrary 
 to his liking; for, taught by many examples, 
 they say that a monk, and especially the 
 younger ones, cannot bridle the desire of his 
 concupiscence unless he has first learnt by 
 obedience to mortify his wishes. And so they 
 lay it down that the man who has not first 
 learnt to overcome his desires cannot possibly 
 stamp out anger or sulkiness, or the spirit of 
 fornication; nor can he preserve true humility 
 of heart, or lasting unity with the brethren, or 
 a stable and continuous concord; nor remain 
 for any length of time in the monastery. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The reason why the juniors are enjoined not to keep back 
 any of their thoughts from the senior. 
 
 By: these practices, then, they hasten to im- 
 press and instruct those whom they are train- 
 ing with the alphabet, as it were, and first 
 syllables in the direction of perfection, as 
 they can clearly see by these whether they are 
 grounded in a false and imaginary or in a true 
 humility. And, that they may easily arrive 
 at this, they are next taught not to conceal by 
 a false shame any itching thoughts in their 
 hearts, but, as soon as ever such arise, to lay 
 them bare to the senior, and, in forming a 
 judgment about them, not to trust anything 
 to their own discretion, but to take it on trust 
 that that is good or bad which is considered 
 
 1 Cf. Exod. xviii. 25. The office of "Dean" (Decamis), which is 
 here spoken of by Cassian, is also referred to by Augustine (De Mor. 
 Eccl. xxxi.) and Jerome (Ep. xxii. ad Eustoc'h.), and recognized by 
 the Rule of S. Benedict, c. xxi., where directions for his appoint- 
 ment are driven. 
 
 and pronounced so by the examination of the 
 senior. Thus it results that our cunning ad- 
 versary cannot in any way circumvent a young 
 and inexperienced monk, or get the better of 
 his ignorance, or by any craft deceive one 
 whom he sees to be protected not by his own 
 discretion but by that of his senior, and who 
 cannot be persuaded to hide from his senior 
 those suggestions of his which like fiery darts 
 he has shot into his heart; since the devil, 
 subtle as he is, cannot ruin or destroy a junior 
 unless he has enticed him either through pride 
 or through shame to conceal his thoughts. 
 For they lay it down as an universal and clear 
 proof that a thought is from the devil if we 
 are ashamed to disclose it to the senior. 2 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 How thorough is the obedience of the juniors even in those 
 things which are matters of common necessity. 
 
 Next, the rule is kept with such strict obe- 
 dience that, without the knowledge and per- 
 mission of their superior, the juniors not only 
 do not dare to leave their cell but on their 
 own authority do not venture to satisfy their 
 common and natural needs. And so they are 
 quick to fulfil without any discussion all those 
 things that are ordered by him, as if they were 
 commanded by God from heaven ; s so that 
 sometimes, when impossibilities are com- 
 manded them, they undertake them with such 
 faith and devotion as to strive with all their 
 powers and without the slightest hesitation to 
 fulfil them and carry them out ; and out of rev- 
 erence for their senior they do not even con- 
 sider whether a command is an impossibility. 4 
 But of their obedience I omit at present to 
 speak more particularly, for we propose to 
 speak of it in the proper place a little later on, 
 with instances of it, if through your prayers 
 the Lord carry us safely through. We now pro- 
 ceed to the other regulations, passing over all 
 account of those which cannot be imposed on 
 
 2 Compare the Conferences, Book 1 1, c. x., where Cassian returns 
 to the same subject. A similar rule that the brethren are to lay bare 
 all the secrets of their hearts to their superior is given by S. Basil in 
 the Longer Monastic Rules, Q. xxvi., and in the Rule of S. Isaiah 
 (cc. vi., xliii.), printed in Holsten's Codex Regularzim, Vol. I. 
 
 3 Cf. the Rule of S. Benedict, c. v., where it is said that "the 
 first degree of humility is ready obedience. This is peculiar to those 
 who . . . prefer nothing to Christ, and fulfil the injunctions of their 
 superiors as promptly as if God Himself had given them the com- 
 mand," etc. 
 
 * The Rule of S. Benedict has a chapter to explain what is to be 
 done if a brother is commanded to perform impossibilities Cc. lxviii.). 
 " If a brother is commanded to do anything that is difficult, or even 
 impossible, let him receive the command with all meekness and obedi- 
 ence ; meanwhile, should he see that he is utterly unequal to the 
 task laid upon him, let him represent the matter to his superior calmly 
 and respectfully, without pride, resistance, or contradiction. If the 
 superior, after hearing what he has to say, still insists on the execu- 
 tion of the command, let the junior be persuaded that it is for his 
 spiritual good, and accordingly, trusting in God's assistance, let him 
 for His love undertake the work." 
 
222 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN.^ 
 
 or kept in the monasteries in this country, 
 as we promised to do in our Preface ; for in- 
 stance, how they never use woollen garments, 
 but only cotton, and these not double, changes 
 of which each superior gives out to the ten 
 monks under his care when he sees that those 
 which they are wearing are dirty. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 The kind of food which is considered the greatest delicacy by 
 them. 
 
 I pass over, too, that difficult and sublime 
 sort of self-control, through which it is con- 
 sidered the greatest luxury if the plant called 
 cherlock, 1 prepared with salt and steeped in 
 water, is set on the table for the repast of the 
 brethren; and many other things like this, 
 which in this country neither the climate nor 
 the weakness of our constitution would permit. 
 And I shall only follow up those matters which 
 cannot be interfered with by any weakness of 
 the flesh or local situation, if only no weak- 
 ness of mind or coldness of spirit gets rid of 
 them. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 How they leave off every kind of work at the sound of some 
 one knocking at the door, in their eagerness to answer at once. 
 
 And so, sitting in their cells and devoting 
 their energies equally to work and to medita- 
 tion, when they hear the sound of some one 
 knocking at the door and striking on the cells 
 of each, summoning them to prayer or some 
 work, every one eagerly dashes out from his 
 cell, so that one who is practising the writer's 
 art, although he may have just begun to form 
 a letter, does not venture to finish it, but runs 
 out with the utmost speed, at the very moment 
 when the sound of the knocking reaches his 
 ears, without even waiting to finish the letter 
 he has begun; but, leaving the lines of the 
 letter incomplete, he aims not at abridging 
 and saving his labour, but rather hastens with 
 the utmost earnestness and zeal to attain the 
 virtue of obedience, which they put not merely 
 before manual labour and reading and silence 
 and quietness in the cell, but even before all 
 virtues, so that they consider that everything 
 should be postponed to it, and are content to 
 undergo any amount of inconvenience if only 
 it may be seen that they have in no way neg- 
 lected this virtue. 2 
 
 1 Labsanion. Cf. below, c. xxiii., where cherlock is mentioned 
 again, together with other delicacies (!) of the Egyptians. 
 
 2 Cf. the Rule of S. Benedict, c. v. : "Those who choose to tread 
 the path that leads to life eternal immediately quit their private occu- 
 pations at the call of obedience, and, renouncing their own will so 
 far as to cast away unfinished out of their hands whatever they may 
 be occupied with, hasten to execute the orders of their superiors," etc. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 How wrong it is considered for any one to say that anything, 
 however trifling, is his own. 
 
 Among their other practices I fancy that it 
 is unnecessary even to mention this virtue, 
 viz., that no one is allowed to possess a box or 
 basket as his special property, nor any such 
 thing which he could keep as his own and 
 secure with his own seal, as we are well aware 
 that they are in all respects stripped so bare 
 that they have nothing whatever except their 
 shirt, cloak, shoes, sheepskin, and rush mat; 8 
 for in other monasteries as well, where some 
 indulgence and relaxation is granted, we see 
 that this rule is still most strictly kept, so that 
 no one ventures to say even in word that any- 
 thing is his own: and it is a great offence if 
 there drops from the mouth of a monk such 
 an expression as "my book," " my tablets," 
 " my pen," " my coat," or " my shoes.; " and 
 for this he would have to make satisfaction 
 by a proper penance, if by accident some such 
 expression escaped his lips through thought- 
 lessness or ignorance. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 How, even if a large sum of money is amassed by the labour 
 of each, still no one may venture to exceed the moderate 
 limit of what is appointed as adequate. 
 
 And although each one of them may bring 
 in daily by his work and labour so great a 
 return to the monastery that he could out of 
 it not only satisfy his own moderate demands 
 but could also abundantly supply the wants of 
 many, yet he is no way puffed up, nor does he 
 flatter himself on account of his toil and this 
 large gain from his labour, but, except two 
 biscuits, 4 which are sold there for scarcely 
 threepence, no one thinks that he has a right 
 to anything further. And among them there 
 is nothing (and I am ashamed to say this, and 
 heartily wish it was unknown in our own mon- 
 asteries) which is claimed by any of them, I 
 will not say in deed but even in thought, as 
 
 3 Psiathium. The rush mats which served as a seat by day and 
 a bed by night for the monks. See Book V. xxxv., and the Confer- 
 ences I. xxiii. ; XV. i. ; XVII. iii. ; XVIII.xi. S. Jerome mentions 
 it in his preface to the Rule of Pachomius as one of the very few 
 articles contained in the cells of the monks of Tabenna. "They 
 have nothing in their cells except a mat and what is described below: 
 two ' lebitonaria,' a kind of garment without sleeves which the Egyp- 
 tian monks use (the colobium, or shirt), one old one for sleeping or 
 working, a linen garment and two hoods, a sheepskin, a linen girdle, 
 shoes, and a staff." 
 
 4 Paxamatium, a biscuit. The word comes from the Greek 
 7rafafia8co>', and is said to be derived from the name of a baker, 
 nafaMO? (see Liddell and Scott, c. v.). These biscuits formed an im- 
 portant part of the diet of the Egyptian monks, as we see from the 
 Conferences, where they are often mentioned; e.g., II. xi., xix., 
 xxiv., xxvi. ; XII. xv. ; XIX. iv. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 223 
 
 his special property. And though he believes 
 that the whole granary of the monastery forms 
 his substance, and, as lord of all, devotes his 
 whole care and energy to it all, yet never- 
 theless, in order to maintain that excellent 
 state of want and poverty which he has secured 
 and which he strives to preserve to the very 
 last in unbroken perfection, he regards him- 
 self as a foreigner and an alien to them all, so 
 that he conducts himself as a stranger and a 
 sojourner in this world, and considers himself 
 a pupil of the monastery and a servant instead 
 of imagining that he is lord and master of 
 anything. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Of the excessive desire of possession among us. 
 
 To this what shall we wretched creatures 
 say, who though living in Ccenobia and estab- 
 lished under the government and care of an 
 Abbot yet carry about our own keys, and 
 trampling under foot all feeling of shame and 
 disgrace which should spring from our pro- 
 fession, are not ashamed actually to wear 
 openly upon our fingers rings with which to 
 seal what we have stored up ; and in whose 
 case not merely boxes and baskets, but not 
 even chests and closets are sufficient for those 
 things which we collect or which we reserved 
 when we forsook the world; and who some- 
 times get so angry over trifles and mere noth- 
 ings (to which however we lay claim as if they 
 were our own) that if any one dares to lay a 
 finger on any of them, we are so filled with rage 
 against him that we cannot keep the wrath of 
 our heart from being expressed on our lips and 
 in bodily excitement. But, passing by our 
 faults and treating with silence those things of 
 which it is a shame even to speak, according 
 to this saying: "My mouth shall not speak the 
 deeds of men," x let us in accordance with the 
 method of our narration which we have begun 
 proceed to those virtues which are practised 
 among them, and which we ought to aim at with 
 all earnestness; and let us briefly and hastily 
 set down the actual rules and systems that 
 afterwards, coming to some of the deeds and 
 acts of the elders which we propose carefully 
 to preserve for recollection, we may support 
 by the strongest testimonies what we have set 
 forth in our treatise, and still further confirm 
 everything that we have said by examples and 
 instances from life. 
 
 1 Ps. xvi. (xvii.) 4. 
 
 2 From this passage we gather that in Egypt two mottks were often 
 the joint occupants of a single cell. Cf. Il.xii. and Conference XX. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 On the rules for various rebukes. 
 
 If then any one by accident breaks an 
 earthenware jar (which they call "baucalis"), 
 he can only expiate his carelessness by public 
 penance; and when all the brethren are assem- 
 bled for service he must lie on the ground 
 and ask for absolution until the service of the 
 prayers is finished; and will obtain it when 
 by the Abbot's command he is bidden to rise 
 from the ground. The same satisfaction must 
 be given by one who when summoned to some 
 work or to the usual service comes rather late, 
 or who when singing a Psalm hesitates ever so 
 little. Similarly if he answers unnecessarily 
 or roughly or impertinently, if he is careless 
 in carrying out the services enjoined to him, 
 if he makes a slight complaint, if preferring 
 reading to work or obedience he is slow in 
 performing his appointed duties, if when ser- 
 vice is over he does not make haste to go back 
 at once to his cell, if he stops for ever so 
 short a time with some one else, if he goes 
 anywhere else even for a moment, if he takes 
 any one else by the hand, if he ventures to dis- 
 cuss anything however small with one who is 
 not the joint-occupant of his cell, 2 if he prays 
 with one who is suspended from prayer, if he 
 sees any of his relations or friends in the world 
 and talks with them without his senior, if he 
 tries to receive a letter from any one or to write 
 back without his Abbot's leave. 3 To such an 
 extent does spiritual censure proceed and in 
 such matters and faults like these. But as 
 for other things which when indiscriminately 
 committed among us are treated by us too as 
 blameworthy, viz. : open wrangling, manifest 
 contempt, arrogant contradictions, going out 
 from the monastery freely and without check, 
 familiarity with women, wrath, quarrelling, 
 jealousies, disputes, claiming something as 
 
 3 Many of these faults are noticed in the Rule of Pachomius as 
 deserving censure e.g., unpunctuality at or carelessness in service 
 (c. viii. ix.), breaking anything (c. cxxv.), murmuring (lxxxvii.), taking 
 the hand of another (xliv.). So also in the Rule of S. Benedict 
 (cc. xliii.-xlvi.) similar directions are given, while in c. xliv. the 
 nature of the penance is more fully described. He who in pun- 
 ishment of a grievous fault has been excluded from the Refectory 
 and the Church, shall lie prostrate at the door of the latter at the end 
 of each office, and shall there remain in silence with his forehead 
 touching the ground, until the brethren retiring from church have all 
 walked over him. This penance he shall continue to perform till it 
 be announced to him that he has made due satisfaction. When com- 
 manded by the Abbot to appear before him, he shall go and cast him- 
 self at his feet and then at the feet of all the brethren, begging of them 
 to pray for him. He shall then be admitted to the choir, if the 
 Abbot so order, and shall take there whatever place he may assign 
 him : but let him not presume to intone a Psalm, read a lesson or 
 perform any similar duty, without the special permission of the 
 Abbot. He shall, moreover, prostrate himself in his place in choir 
 at the end of every office, until the Abbot tells him to discontinue 
 this penance. Those who for light faults are excluded merely from 
 the common table, shall make satisfaction in the church according as 
 the Abbot shall direct, and shall continue to do so until he gives 
 them his blessing and tells them that they have made sufficient atone- 
 ment. 
 
224 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 one's own property, the infection of covetous- 
 ness, the desire and acquisition of unnecessary 
 things which are not possessed by the rest of 
 the brethren, taking food between meals and 
 by stealth, and things like these — they are 
 dealt with not by that spiritual censure of 
 which we spoke, but by stripes; or are atoned 
 for by expulsion. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Of those who introduced the plan that the holy Lessons 
 should be read in the Ccenobia while the brethren are eating, 
 and of the strict silence which is kept among the Egyptians. 
 
 But we have been informed that the plan 
 that, while the brethren are eating, the holy 
 lessons should be read in the Ccenobia did 
 not originate in the Egyptian system but in 
 the Cappadocian. And there is no doubt that 
 they meant to establish it not so much for the 
 sake of the spiritual exercise as for the sake 
 of putting a stop to unnecessary and idle con- 
 versation, and especially discussions, which so 
 often arise at meals ; since they saw that these 
 could not be prevented among them in any 
 other way. 1 For among the Egyptians and 
 especially those of Tabenna so strict a silence 
 is observed by all that when so large a number 
 of the brethren has sat down together to a 
 meal, no one ventures to talk even in a low 
 tone except the dean, who however if he sees 
 that anything is wanted to be put on or taken 
 off the table, 'signifies it by a sign rather 
 than a word. And while they are eating, the 
 rule of this silence is so strictly kept that with 
 their hoods drawn down over their eyelids 
 (to prevent their roving looks having the op- 
 portunity of wandering inquisitively) they can 
 see nothing except the table, and the food that 
 is put on it, and which they take from it; so 
 that no one notices what another is eating. 2 
 
 1 It is quite in keeping with what is here said by Cassian that in 
 the Rule of Pachomius there is no mention of reading at meals, but 
 only of the strict silence observed, so that anything wanted might not 
 be asked for but only indicated by a sign (cc. xxxi., xxxiii.), while in 
 the shorter Monastic Rules of S. Basil the custom of reading at 
 meals is distinctly alluded to (Q. clxxx.). It is of course also ordered 
 in most of the later monastic rules, e.g. that of Cesarius of Aries 
 " ad Monachos " c. xlix., " ad Virgines " c. xvi. ; that of S. Aure- 
 lian, c. xlix.; S. Isidore, c. x., and S. Benedict, c. xxxviii. The 
 regulations in the last mentioned are as follows : — "A book should 
 be read in the Refectory while the brethren are at meals. Let no 
 one presume to read of his own accord ; but let there be one appointed 
 to perform that duty, who, commencing on Sunday, will read during 
 the entire week. . . Profound silence shall be observed during 
 meals, so that no voice save that of the reader may be heard. The 
 brethren will so help each other to what is necessary as regards food 
 and drink that no one may have occasion to ask for anything ; should, 
 however, anything be wanted, let it be asked for by sign rather than 
 word. Let no one presume to make any observation either on what 
 is being read or on any other subject, lest occasion be given to the 
 enemy. The Prior, however, should he think fit, may say a few 
 words to edify the brethren." 
 
 2 So Pachomius (c. xxix.). While they are eating they shall sit in 
 their right places and shall cover their heads. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 How it is against the rule for any one to take anything to eat or 
 drink except at the common table. 
 
 In between their regular meals in common 
 they are especially careful that no one should 
 presume to gratify his palate with any food : 3 
 so that when they are walking casually 
 through gardens or orchards, when the fruit 
 hanging enticingly on the trees not only knocks 
 against their breasts as they pass through, but 
 is also lying on the ground and offering itself 
 to be trampled under foot, and (as it is all 
 ready to be gathered) would easily be able to 
 entice those who see it to gratify their appetite, 
 and by the chance offered to them and the 
 quantity of the fruit, to excite even the most 
 severe and abstemious to long for it; still they 
 consider it wrong not merely to taste a single 
 fruit, but even to touch one with the hand, 
 except what is put on the table openly for the 
 common meal of all, and supplied publicly 
 by the steward's catering through the service 
 of the brethren, for their enjoyment. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 How throughout Palestine and Mesopotamia a daily service 
 is undertaken by the brethren. 
 
 In order that we may not appear to omit any 
 of the Institutes of the Ccenobia I think that 
 it should be briefly mentioned that in other 
 countries as well there is a daily service un- 
 dertaken by the brethren. For throughout the 
 whole of Mesopotamia, Palestine, and Cappa- 
 docia and all the East the brethren succeed 
 one another in turn every week for the per- 
 formance of certain duties, so that the number 
 serving is told off according to the whole num- 
 ber of monks in the Ccenobium. And they 
 hasten to fulfil these duties with a zeal and 
 humility such as no slave bestows on his ser- 
 vice even to a most harsh and powerful mas- 
 ter; so that not satisfied only with these 
 services which are rendered by canonical rule, 
 they actually rise by night in their zeal and 
 relieve those whose special duty this is; and 
 secretly anticipating them try to finish those 
 duties which these others would have to do. 
 But each one who undertakes these weeks is 
 on duty and has to serve until supper on 
 
 3 Similarly we find in the Rule of Pachomius that no one is allowed 
 to keep any food in his ceil besides what he receives from the steward 
 (c. lxxix.) ; and the Benedictine Rule also says: "Let no one pre- 
 sume to take anv food or drink out of the regular hours of meals " 
 (c. xliii). Cf. also the Rule of Pachomius cc. lxxv. and lxxviii., S. 
 Basil's longer Monastic Rules Q. xv.,'A\(/a.TO PpupaTuiv napa. 
 Kaipov ; e77i 7r/V6icrTov xij? r)fj.ipa<; d7rbcn.Tos ecrrio, the Rule of Aure- 
 lian (c. lii. ), that of Isidore (c. xiii.), etc 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 225 
 
 Sunday, and when this is done, his duty for 
 the whole week is finished, so that, when all 
 the brethren come together to chant the Psalms 
 (which according to custom they sing before 
 going to bed) those whose turn is over wash 
 the feet of all in turn, seeking faithfully from 
 them the reward of this blessing for their work 
 during the whole week, that the prayers offered 
 up by all the brethren together may accompany 
 them as they fulfil the command of Christ, 
 the prayer, to wit, that intercedes for their 
 ignorances and for their sins committed through 
 human frailty, and may commend to God the 
 complete service of their devotion like some 
 rich offering. And so on Monday after the 
 Mattin hymns they hand over to others who 
 take their place the vessels and utensils with 
 which they have ministered, which these re- 
 ceive and keep with the utmost care and anxi- 
 ety, that none of them may be injured or 
 destroyed, as they believe that even for the 
 smallest vessels they must give an account, as 
 sacred things, not only to a present steward, 
 but to the Lord, if by chance any of them is 
 injured through their carelessness. And what 
 limit there is to this discipline, and what fidel- 
 ity and care there is in keeping it up, you may 
 see from one instance which I will give as an 
 example. For while we are anxious to satisfy 
 that fervour of yours through which you ask 
 for a full account of everything, and want even 
 what you know perfectly well to be repeated 
 to you in this treatise, we are also afraid of 
 exceeding the limits of brevity. 1 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Of the three lentil beans which the Steward found. 
 
 During the week of a certain brother the 
 steward passing by saw lying on the ground 
 three lentil beans which had slipped out of the 
 hand of the monk on duty for the week * as 
 he was hastily preparing them for cooking, 
 together with the water in which he was wash- 
 ing them; and immediately he consulted the 
 Abbot on the subject; and by him the monk 
 was adjudged a pilferer and careless about 
 sacred property, and so was suspended from 
 
 J- The weekly officers here spoken of were termed " Hebdoma- 
 darii " (see the next chapter). According to most rules their duties 
 included cooking, serving, and reading at meals. They are men- 
 tioned in S. Jerome's preface to the Rule of Pachomius (cf. also 
 Ep. xxii. ad Eustochium), but it would appear from what Cassian says 
 below in c. xxii. that in Egypt the office of cook was assigned to 
 some one brother and not undertaken by all in turn. According to 
 Cassian they entered upon office on Monday morning, but the Bene- 
 dictine (c. xxxv.) and other rules speak of them as beginning their 
 duties on Sunday morning. The custom of washing the feet of the 
 brethren, which Cassian here describes, is also mentioned by S. 
 Benedict. 1. c. 
 
 2 Hebdomadarius. 
 
 prayer. And the offence of his negligence 
 was only pardoned when he had atoned for it 
 by public penance. For they believe not only 
 that they themselves are not their own, but also 
 that everything that they possess is conse- 
 crated to the Lord. Wherefore if anything 
 whatever has once been brought into the mon- 
 astery they hold that it ought to be treated 
 with the utmost reverence as an holy thing. 
 And they attend to and arrange everything 
 with great fidelity, even in the case of 
 things which are considered unimportant or 
 regarded as common and paltry, so that if they 
 change their position and put them in a better 
 place, or if they fill a bottle with water, or 
 give anybody something to drink out of it, or 
 if they remove a little dust from the oratory or 
 from their cell they believe with implicit faith 
 that they will receive a reward from the Lord. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Of the spontaneous service of some of the brethren. 
 
 We have been told of brethren in whose 
 week there was such a scarcity of wood that 
 they had not enough to prepare the usual 
 food for the brethren ; and when it had been 
 ordered by the Abbot's authority that until 
 more could be brought and fetched, they 
 should content themselves with dried food, 3 
 though this was agreed to by all and no one 
 could expect any cooked food; still these -men 
 as if they were cheated of the fruit and reward 
 of their labour and service, if they did not 
 prepare the food for their brethren according 
 to custom in the order of their turn — imposed 
 upon themselves such uncalled-for labour and 
 care that in those dry and sterile regions 
 where wood cannot possibly be procured un- 
 less it is cut from the fruit trees (for there are 
 no wild shrubs found there as with us), they 
 wander about through the wide deserts, and 
 traversing the wilderness which stretches 
 towards the Dead Sea, 4 collect in their lap 
 and the folds of their dress the scanty stubble 
 and brambles which the wind carries hither 
 and thither, and so by their voluntary service 
 prepare all their usual food for the brethren, 
 so that they suffer nothing to be diminished of 
 the ordinary supply; discharging these duties 
 of theirs towards their brethren with such fidel- 
 ity that though the scarcity of wood and the 
 
 3 Xerophagia (^rfpo<j>ayia), "dried food," distinguished from 
 what is raw {omophagia) in the next chapter. Cf. for the word, 
 Tertullian on Fasting c. i. and xvii. 
 
 4 This shows that Cassian is here writing about the monks of 
 Palestine, not those of Egypt, who (according to the next chapter) 
 had a permanent cook- There is a further allusion to and description 
 of this desert in the Conference VI. i. 
 
226 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 Abbot's order would be a fair excuse for them, 
 yet still out of regard for their profit and re- 
 ward they will not take advantage of this 
 liberty. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Of the system of the Egyptians, which is appointed for the 
 daily service of the brethren. 
 
 These things have been told in accordance 
 with the system, as we remarked before, of 
 the whole East, which also we say should be 
 observed as a matter of course in our own 
 country. But among the Egyptians whose 
 chief care is for work there is not the mutual 
 change of weekly service, for fear lest owing 
 to the requirements of office they might all 
 be hindered from keeping the rule of work. 
 But one of the most approved brethren is given 
 the care of the larder and kitchen, and he 
 takes charge of that office for good and all 
 as long as his strength and years permit. For 
 he is exhausted by no great bodily labour, 
 because no great care is expended among them 
 in preparing food or in cooking, as they so 
 largely make use of dried and uncooked food, 1 
 and among them the leaves of leeks cut each 
 month, and cherlock, table salt, 2 olives, tiny 
 little salt fish which they call sardines, 3 form 
 the greatest delicacy. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Of the obedience of Abbot John by which he was exalted 
 even to the grace of prophecy. 
 
 And since this book is about the training of 
 one who renounces this world, whereby, mak- 
 ing a beginning of true humility and perfect 
 obedience, he may be enabled to ascend the 
 heights of the other virtues as well, I think it 
 well to set down just by way of specimen, as 
 we promised, some of the deeds of the elders 
 whereby they excelled in this virtue, selecting 
 a few only out of many instances, that, if any 
 are anxious to aim at still greater heights, 
 they may not only receive from these an in- 
 citement towards the perfect life, but may also 
 be furnished with a model of what they pur- 
 
 1 The distinction between the xeropliagia and omophagia is 
 shown by the following passage from S. Jerome's Life of Hilarion, 
 describing his food: " From his twenty-first year to his twenty- 
 seventh for three years .... his food was dry bread and water 
 (xeropliagia). Further from his twenty-seventh to his thirtieth year 
 he supported himself on wild herbs, and the raw roots of certain 
 plants (omophagia)." 
 
 1 Sal/rictum, " rubbed salt," i.e., table salt as distinct from 
 rough or block salt. 
 
 3 Mcenome7iia (Petschenig) or Mcenidia (Gazasus). The word 
 comes from the Greek fxa.ivoy.iva. or fj.aiviSi.ov, dimin. from fj-aivrj, a 
 small salted fish. 
 
 pose. Wherefore, to make this book as short 
 as possible we will produce and set down two 
 or three out of the whole number of the 
 Fathers; and first of all Abbot John who 
 lived near Lycon 4 which is a town in the 
 Thebaid ; and who was exalted even to the 
 grace of prophecy for his admirable obedience, 
 and was so celebrated all the world over that 
 he was by his merits rendered famous even 
 among kings of this world. For though, as we 
 said, he lived in the most remote parts of the 
 Thebaid, still the Emperor Theodosius did 
 not venture to declare war against the most 
 powerful tyrants before he was encouraged by 
 his utterances and replies: trusting in which 
 as if they had been brought to him from 
 heaven he gained victories over his foes in 
 battles which seemed hopeless. 5 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Of the dry stick which, at the bidding of his senio^ Abbot 
 John kept on watering as if it would grow. 
 
 And so this blessed John from his youth up 
 even to a full and ripe age of manhood was 
 subject to his senior as long as he continued 
 living in this world, and carried out his com- 
 mands with such humility that his senior him- 
 self was utterly astounded at his obedience ; 
 and as he wanted to make sure whether this 
 virtue came from genuine faith and profound 
 simplicity of heart, or whether it was put on 
 and as it were constrained and only shown in 
 the presence of the bidder, he often laid upon 
 him many superfluous and almost unnecessary 
 or even impossible commands. From which 
 I will select three to show to those who wish 
 to know how perfect was his disposition and 
 subjection. For the old man took from his 
 woodstack a stick which had previously been 
 cut and got ready to make the fire with, and 
 which, as no opportunity for cooking had 
 come, was lying not merely dry but even 
 mouldy from the lapse of time. And when 
 he had stuck it into the ground before his very 
 eyes, he ordered him to fetch water and to 
 
 4 Lycon or Lvcopoiis in the Thebaid is the modern El Syout on 
 the west banks of the Nile, S.E. of Hermopolis ( = Minieh). 
 
 5 This John of Lycopolis was one of the most celebrated hermits 
 of the fourth century. Originally a carpenter, he retired at the age 
 of twenty-five into the wilderness, and after the death of his instructor 
 settled near Lycopolis. Here, as Cassian tells us, he received as a 
 reward for his obedience the gift of prophecy ; and was consulted by 
 crowds who came to him for this purpose and among others by the 
 Emperor Theodosius, to whom he foretold (i) his victory over the 
 usurper Maximus (a.d. 388), and (2) his success against Eugenius 
 in a.d. 395. He is mentioned again by Cassian in the Conferences 
 I. xxi., XXIV. xxvi., etc. A full account of him is given by Rufinus 
 in his history of the monks c. i., and by Palladius in the Lausiac 
 History 43-60; he is also mentioned by Augustine De Civitate Dei, 
 Book V.c. xxvi; De Cura pro mortuisgerenda, c. xvii., and Jerome 
 Ep. cxxxiii. ad Ctesiphontem, as well as by Theodoret H.E. V. xxiv. 
 and Sozomen H.E. VI. xxvhi. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 227 
 
 water it twice a day that by this daily watering 
 it might strike roots and be restored to life as 
 a tree, as it was before, and spread out its 
 branches and afford a pleasant sight to the 
 eyes as well as a shade for those who sat under 
 it in the heat of summer. And this order the 
 lad received with his customary veneration, 
 never considering its impossibility, and day 
 by day carried it out so that he constantly 
 carried water for nearly two miles and never 
 ceased to water the stick; and for a whole 
 year no bodily infirmity, no festival services, 
 no necessary business (which might fairly have 
 excused him from carrying out the command), 
 and lastly no severity of winter could interfere 
 and hinder him from obeying this order. And 
 when the old man had watched this zeal of his 
 on the sly without saying anything for several 
 days and had seen that he kept this command 
 of his with simple willingness of heart, as if 
 it had come from heaven, without any change 
 of countenance or consideration of its reason- 
 ableness — approving the unfeigned obedience 
 of his humility and at the same time commis- 
 erating his tedious labour which in the zeal 
 of his devotion he had continued for a whole 
 year — he came to the dry stick, and, "John," 
 said he, " has this tree put forth roots or no ? " 
 And when the other said that he did not know, 
 then the old man as if seeking the truth of 
 the matter and trying whether it was yet de- 
 pending on its roots, pulled up the stick be- 
 fore him with a slight disturbance of the earth, 
 and throwing it away told him that for the 
 future he might stop watering it. 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Of the unique vase of oil thrown away by Abbot John at his 
 senior's command. 
 
 Thus the youth, trained up by exercises of 
 this sort, daily increased in this virtue of 
 obedience, and shone forth more and more 
 with the grace of humility; and when the sweet 
 odour of his obedience spread throughout all 
 the monasteries, some of the brethren, coming 
 to the elder for the sake of testing him or 
 rather of being edified by him, marvelled at 
 his obedience of which they had heard; and 
 so the elder called him suddenly, and said, 
 " Go up and take this cruse of oil " 2 (which was 
 the only one in the desert and which furnished 
 
 1 A somewhat similar story is told by Sulpitius Severus (Dialogi 
 If c. xiii.) of an Egyptian monk, only in that case the story terminates 
 in a more satisfactory manner, as in the third year the stick took root 
 and sprouted! 
 
 2 Lenticula ; the word is used for a cruse of oil in the Vulgate. 
 1 Sam. x. 1 ; 2 Kings ix. i, 3. 
 
 a very scanty supply of the rich liquid for their 
 own use and for that of strangers) " and throw 
 it down out of window." And he flew up 
 stairs when summoned and threw it out of 
 window and cast it down to the ground and 
 broke it in pieces without any thought or con- 
 sideration of the folly of the command, or 
 their daily wants, and bodily infirmity, or of 
 their poverty, and the trials and difficulties of 
 the wretched desert in which, even if they had 
 got the money for it, oil of that quality, once 
 lost, could not be procured or replaced. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 How Abbot John obeyed his senior by trying to roll a huge 
 stone, which a large number of men were unable to move. 
 
 Again, when some others were anxious to 
 be edified by the example of his obedience, 
 the elder called him and said: "John, run 
 and roll that stone hither as quickly as pos- 
 sible ; " and he forthwith, applying now his 
 neck, and now his whole body, tried with all 
 his might and main to roll an enormous stone 
 which a great crowd of men would not be 
 able to move, so that not only were his clothes 
 saturated with sweat from his limbs, but the 
 stone itself was wetted by his neck; in this 
 too never weighing the impossibility of the 
 command and deed, out of reverence for the 
 old man and the unfeigned simplicity of his 
 service, as he believed implicitly that the old 
 man could not command him to do anything 
 vain or without reason. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Of the humility and obedience of Abbot Patermucius,^ which he 
 did not hesitate to make perfect by throwing his little boy 
 into the river at the command of his senior. 
 
 So far let it suffice for me to have told a few 
 things out of many concerning Abbot John: 
 now I will relate a memorable deed of Abbot 
 Patermucius. For he, when anxious to re- 
 nounce the world, remained lying before the 
 doors of the monastery for a long time until 
 by his dogged persistence he induced them — 
 contrary to all the rules of the Coenobia — to 
 receive him together with his little boy who 
 was about eight years old. And when they 
 were at last admitted they were at once not 
 
 3 Patermucius (Petschenig) or Mucius (Gazasus) ; probably _ a 
 different person from the man of this name of whom we read in 
 Rufinus, History of the Monks, c. ix. ; as there is no allusion 
 there to the narrative which Cassian gives here, nor any hint that 
 that Patermucius had a son. 
 
228 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 only committed to the care of different supe- 
 riors, but also put to live in separate cells 
 that the father might not be reminded by the 
 constant sight of the little one that out of all 
 his possessions and carnal treasures, which he 
 had cast off and renounced, at least his son re- 
 mained to him; and that as he was already 
 taught that he was no longer a rich man, so 
 he might also forget the fact that he was a 
 father. And that it might be more thoroughly 
 tested whether he would make affection and 
 love 1 for his own flesh and blood of more ac- 
 count than obedience and Christian mortifi- 
 cation (which all who renounce the world 
 ought out of love to Christ to prefer), the child 
 was on purpose neglected and dressed in rags 
 instead of proper clothes; and so covered and 
 disfigured with dirt that he would rather dis- 
 gust than delight the eyes of his father when- 
 ever he saw him. And further, he was 
 exposed to blows and slaps from different 
 people, which the father often saw inflicted 
 without the slightest reason on his innocent 
 child under his very eyes, so that he never 
 saw his cheeks without their being stained 
 with the dirty marks of tears. And though 
 the child was treated thus day after day before 
 his eyes, yet still out of love for Christ and 
 the virtue of obedience the father's heart stood 
 firm and unmoved. For he no longer regarded 
 him as his own son, as he had offered him 
 equally with himself to Christ; nor was he con- 
 cerned about his present injuries, but rather re- 
 joiced because he saw that they were endured, 
 not without profit; thinking little of his son's 
 tears, but anxious about his own humility and 
 perfection. And when the Superior of the 
 Coenobium saw his steadfastness of mind and 
 immovable inflexibility, in order thoroughly 
 to prove the constancy of his purpose, one 
 day when he had seen the child crying, he 
 pretended that he was annoyed with him and 
 told the father to throw him into the river. 
 Then he, as if this had been commanded him 
 by the Lord, at once snatched up the child as 
 quickly as possible, and carried him in his 
 arms to the river's bank to throw him in. And 
 straightway in the fervour of his faith and obe- 
 dience this would have been carried out in 
 act, had not some of the brethren been pur- 
 posely set to watch the banks of the river very 
 carefully, and when the child was thrown in, 
 had somehow snatched him from the bed of 
 the stream, and prevented the command, which 
 was really fulfilled by the obedience and devo- 
 tion of the father, from being consummated in 
 act and result. 
 
 1 Affcctionem .... ckaritatem. — Petschenig 
 Gazaeus reads the ablative. 
 
 The text of 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 How it was revealed to the Abbot concerning Patermucius 
 that he had done the deed of Abraham ; and how when the 
 same Abbot died, Patermucius succeeded to the charge of 
 the monastery. 
 
 And this man's faith and devotion was so 
 acceptable to God that it was immediately 
 approved by a divine testimony. For it was 
 forthwith revealed to the Superior that by this 
 obedience of his he had copied the deed of the 
 patriarch Abraham. And when shortly after- 
 wards the same Abbot of the monastery de- 
 parted out of this life to Christ, he preferred 
 him to all the brethren, and left him as his 
 successor and as Abbot to the monastery. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 01 the obedience of a brother who at the Abbot's bidding carried 
 about in public ten baskets and sold them by retail. 
 
 We will also not be silent about a brother 
 whom we knew, who belonged to a high family 
 according to the rank of this world, for he was 
 sprung from a father who was a count and 
 extremely wealthy, and had been well brought 
 up with a liberal education. This man, when 
 he had left his parents and fled to the monas- 
 tery, in order to prove the humility of his dis- 
 position and the ardour of his faith was at 
 once ordered by his superior to load his 
 shoulders with ten baskets (which there was 
 no need to sell publicly), and to hawk them 
 about through the streets for sale : this condi- 
 tion being attached, so that he might be kept 
 longer at the work, viz. : that if any one should 
 chance to want to buy them all together, he 
 was not to allow it, but was to sell them to 
 purchasers separately. And this he carried 
 out with the utmost zeal, and trampling under 
 foot all shame and confusion, out of love for 
 Christ, and for His Name's sake, he put the 
 baskets on his shoulders and sold them by 
 retail at the price fixed and brought back the 
 money to the monastery; not in the least upset 
 by the novelty of so mean and unusual a duty, 
 and paying no attention to the indignity of 
 the thing and the splendour of his birth, and 
 the disgrace of the sale, as he was aiming at 
 gaining through the grace of obedience that 
 humility of Christ which is the true nobility. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Of the humility of Abbot Pinufius, who left a very famous 
 Coenobium over which he presided as Presbyter, and out of 
 the love of subjection sought a distant monastery where he 
 could be received as a novice. 
 
 The limits of the book compel us to draw 
 to a close; but the virtue of obedience, which 
 holds the first place among other good qual- 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 229 
 
 
 ities, will not allow us altogether to pass over 
 in silence the deeds of those who have ex- 
 celled by it. Wherefore aptly combining 
 these two together, I mean, consulting brevity 
 as well as the wishes and profit of those who 
 are in earnest, we will only add one example 
 of humility, which, as it was shown by no 
 novice but one already perfect and an Abbot, 
 may not only instruct the younger, but also 
 incite the elders to the perfect virtue of hu- 
 mility, as they read it. Thus we saw Abbot 
 Pinufius 1 who when he was presbyter of a huge 
 Ccenobium which is in Egypt not far from the 
 city of Panephysis, 2 was held in honour and 
 respect by all men out of reverence either for 
 his life or for his age or for his priesthood; 
 and when he saw that for this reason he could 
 not practise that humility which he longed for 
 with all the ardour of his disposition, and had 
 no opportunity of exercising the virtue of sub- 
 jection which he desired, he fled secretly from 
 the Ccenobium and withdrew alone into the 
 furthest parts of the Thebaid, and there laid 
 aside the habit of the monks and assumed a 
 secular dress, and thus sought the Ccenobium 
 of Tabenna, which he knew to be the strictest 
 of all, and in which he fancied that he would 
 not be known owing to the distance of the 
 spot, or else that he could easily lie hid there 
 in consequence of the size of the monastery 
 and the number of brethren. There he re- 
 mained for a long time at the entrance, and 
 as a suppliant at the knees of the brethren 
 sought with most earnest prayers to gain ad- 
 mission. And when he was at last with much 
 scorn admitted as a feeble old man who had 
 lived all his life in the world, and had asked 
 in his old age to be allowed to enter a Cceno- 
 bium when he could no longer gratify his 
 passions, — as they said that he was seeking 
 this not for the sake of religion but because 
 he was compelled by hunger and want, they 
 gave him the care and management of the 
 garden, as he seemed an old man and not 
 specially fitted for any particular work. And 
 this he performed under another and a younger 
 brother who kept him by him as intrusted to 
 him, and he was so subordinate to him, and 
 cultivated the desired virtue of humility so 
 obediently that he daily performed with the 
 utmost diligence not only everything that had 
 to do with the care and management of the 
 garden, but also all those duties which were 
 
 1 Cassian repeats this story in the Conferences XX. c. i., as an 
 introduction to the Conference " On the End of Penitence and the 
 Marks of Satisfaction," which he gives as the work of the said 
 Abbot Pinufius. 
 
 * Panephysis is more fully described in the Conferences VII. 
 xxvi.; XI. iii. It is mentioned by Ptolemy (IV. v. § 52), but not by 
 many other ancient writers. It was situated in the Delta between 
 the Tanitic and Mendesian arms of the Nile, and was identified by 
 Champollion with the modern Menzaleh. 
 
 looked on by the other as hard and degrad- 
 ing, and disagreeable. Rising also by night 
 he did many things secretly, without any 
 one looking on or knowing it, when darkness 
 concealed him so that no one could discover 
 the author of the deed. And when he had 
 hidden himself there for three years and had 
 been sought for high and low by the brethren 
 all through Egypt, he was at last seen by one 
 who had come from the parts of Egypt, but 
 could scarcely be recognized owing to the 
 meanness of his dress and the humble char- 
 acter of the duty he was performing. For he 
 was stooping down and hoeing the ground for 
 vegetables and bringing dung on his shoulders 
 and laying it about their roots. And seeing 
 this the brother for a long time hesitated about 
 recognizing him, but at last he came nearer, 
 and taking careful note not only of his looks 
 but also of the tone of his voice, straightway 
 fell at his feet : and at first all who saw it were 
 struck with the greatest astonishment why he 
 should do this to one who was looked upon 
 by them as the lowest of all, as being a novice 
 and one who had but lately forsaken the world : 
 but afterwards they were struck with still 
 greater wonder when he forthwith announced 
 his name, which was one that had been well 
 known amongst them also by repute. And 
 all the brethren asking his pardon for their 
 former ignorance because they had for so long 
 classed him with the juniors and children, 
 brought him back to his own Ccenobium, 
 against his will and in tears because by the 
 envy of the devil he had been cheated out of 
 a worthy mode of life and the humility which 
 he was rejoicing in having discovered after 
 his long search, and because he had not suc- 
 ceeded in ending his life in that state of sub- 
 jection which he had secured. And so they 
 guarded him with the utmost care lest he 
 should slip away again in the same sort of 
 way and escape from them also. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 How when Abbot Pinufius was brought back to his monastery 
 he stayed there for a little while and then fled again into the 
 regions of Syrian Palestine. 
 
 And when he had stopped there for a little 
 while, again he was seized with a longing and 
 desire for humility, and, taking advantage of 
 the silence of night, made his escape in such 
 a way that this time he sought no neighbouring 
 district, but regions which were unknown and 
 strange and separated by a wide distance. 
 For embarking in a ship he managed to travel 
 to Palestine, believing that* he would more 
 
230 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 securely lie hid if he betook himself to those 
 places in which his name had never been 
 heard. And when he had come thither, at 
 once he sought out our own monastery l which 
 was at no great distance from the cave 2 in 
 which our Lord vouchsafed to be born of a 
 virgin. And though he concealed himself 
 here for some time, yet like " a city set on an 
 hill " 3 (to use our Lord's expression) he could 
 not long be hid. For presently some of the 
 brethren who had come to the holy places 
 from Egypt to pray there recognized him and 
 recalled him with most fervent prayers to his 
 own Ccenobium. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 The charge which the same Abbot Pinufius gave to a brother 
 whom he admitted into his monastery in our presence. 
 
 This old man, then, we afterwards diligently 
 sought out in Egypt because we had been in- 
 timate with him in our own monastery; and 
 I propose to insert in this work of mine an 
 exhortation which he gave in our presence to 
 a brother whom he admitted into the monas- 
 tery, because I think that it may be useful. 
 You know, said he, that after lying for so 
 many days at the entrance you are to-day to 
 be admitted. And to begin with you ought to 
 know the reason of the difficulty put in your 
 way. For it may be of great service to you 
 in this road on which you are desirous to 
 enter, if you understand the method of it and 
 approach the service of Christ accordingly, 
 and as you ought. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 How it is that, just as a great reward is due to the monk who 
 labours according to the regulations of the fathers, so like- 
 wise punishment must be inflicted on an idle one ; and there- 
 fore no one should be admitted into a monastery too easily. 
 
 For as unbounded glory hereafter is prom- 
 ised to those who faithfully serve God and 
 cleave to Him according to the rule of this 
 system ; so the severest penalties are in store 
 for those who have carried it out carelessly 
 and coldly, and have failed to show to Him 
 fruits of holiness corresponding to what they 
 professed or what they were believed by men 
 to be. For "it is better," as Scripture says, 
 "that a man should not vow rather than that 
 he should vow and not pay; " and "Cursed is 
 he that doeth the work of the Lord care- 
 
 1 On Cassian's connection with the monastery at Bethlehem, see 
 the Introduction. 
 
 2 On the Cave of the Nativity, see Justin Martyr Dialogue with 
 Trvpho, c. lxxviii. Origen against Celsus, I. c. li. 
 
 3 S. Matt. v. 14. 
 
 lessly." 4 Therefore you were for a long while 
 declined by us, not as if we did not desire 
 with all our hearts to secure your salvation and 
 the salvation of all, nor as if we did not care 
 to go to meet even afar off those who are long- 
 ing to be converted to Christ; but for fear 
 lest if we received you rashly we might make 
 ourselves guilty in the sight of God of levity, 
 and make you incur a yet heavier punishment, 
 if, when you had been too easily admitted by 
 us without realizing the responsibility of this 
 profession, you had afterwards turned out a 
 deserter or lukewarm. Wherefore you ought 
 in the first instance to learn the actual reason 
 for the renunciation of the world, and when 
 you have seen this, you can be taught more 
 plainly what you ought to do, from the reason 
 for it. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Of the way in which our renunciation is nothing but mortifica- 
 tion and the image of the Crucified. 
 
 Renunciation is nothing but the evidence 
 of the cross and of mortification. And so 
 you must know that to-day you are dead to this 
 world and its deeds and desires, and that, as 
 the Apostle says, you are crucified to this 
 world and this world to you. 5 Consider there- 
 fore the demands of the cross under the sign 9 
 of which you ought henceforward to live in 
 this life; because you no longer live but He 
 lives in you who was crucified for you. 7 We 
 must therefore pass our time in this life in 
 that fashion and form in which He was cruci- 
 fied for us on the cross so that (as David 
 says) piercing our flesh with the fear of the 
 Lord, 8 we may have all our wishes and desires 
 not subservient to our own lusts but fastened 
 to His mortification. For so shall we fulfil 
 the command of the Lord which says: "He 
 that taketh not up his cross and followeth me 
 is not worthy of me." 9 But perhaps you will 
 say: How can a man carry his cross continu- 
 ally? or how can any one who is alive be cru- 
 cified? Hear briefly how this is. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 How the fear of the Lord is our cross. 
 
 The fear of the Lord is our cross. As then 
 one who is crucified no longer has the power 
 of moving or turning his limbs in any direc- 
 
 * Eccl. v. 4 (LXX.); Jer. xlviii. 10 (LXX.). 
 
 6 Cf. Gal. vi. 14. 
 
 6 Sacratnentum. 
 
 7 Cf. Gal. ii. 20. 
 
 8 Cf. Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 120, where the Gallican Psalter has " Con- 
 fige timore tuo carries meas." 
 
 9 S. Matt. x. 3S- 
 
 , 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 23 r 
 
 tion as he pleases, so we also ought to affix 
 our wishes and desires — not in accordance 
 with what is pleasant and delightful to us now, 
 but in accordance with the law of the Lord, 
 where it constrains us. And as he who is fas- 
 tened to the wood of the cross no longer con- 
 siders things present, nor thinks about his lik- 
 ings, nor is perplexed by anxiety and care for 
 the morrow, nor disturbed by any desire of 
 possession, nor inflamed by any pride or strife 
 or rivalry, grieves not at present injuries, 
 remembers not past ones, and while he is still 
 breathing in the body considers that he is dead 
 to all earthly things, 1 sending the thoughts of 
 his heart on before to that place whither he 
 doubts not that he is shortly to come : so we 
 also, when crucified by the fear of the Lord 
 ought to be dead indeed to all these things, i.e. 
 not only to carnal vices but also to all earthly 
 things, 1 having the eye of our minds fixed there 
 whither we hope at each moment that we are 
 soon to pass. For in this way we can have all 
 our desires and carnal affections mortified. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 How our renunciation of the world is of no use if we are 
 again entangled in those things which we have renounced. 
 
 Beware therefore lest at any time you take 
 again any of those things which you renounced 
 and forsook, and, contrary to the Lord's com- 
 mand, return from the field of evangelical 
 work, and be found to have clothed yourself 
 again in your coat which you had stripped off; 2 
 neither sink back to the low and earthly lusts 
 and desires of this world, and in defiance 
 of Christ's word come down from the roof of 
 perfection and dare to take up again any 
 of those things which you have renounced and 
 forsaken. Beware that you remember nothing 
 of your kinsfolk or of your former affections, 
 and that you are not called back to the cares 
 and anxieties of this world, and (as our Lord 
 says) putting your hand to the plough and 
 looking back be found unfit for the kingdom 
 of heaven. 3 Beware lest at any time, when 
 you have begun to dip into the knowledge of 
 the Psalms and of this life, you be little by 
 little puffed up and think of reviving that 
 pride which now at your beginning you have 
 trampled under foot in the ardour of faith 
 and in fullest humility; and thus (as the 
 Apostle says) building again those things 
 which you had destroyed, you make yourself 
 a backslider. 4 But rather take heed to con- 
 
 1 Elementa. 
 
 2 Cf. S. Matt. xxiv. 
 
 3 S. Luke ix. 62. 
 
 4 Cf. Gal. ii. 18. 
 
 tinue even to the end in that state of naked- 
 ness of which you made profession in the 
 sight of God and of his angels. In this hu- 
 mility too and patience, with which you per- 
 severed for ten days before the doors and 
 entreated with many tears to be admitted into 
 the monastery, you should not only continue 
 but also increase and go forward. For it is 
 too bad that when you ought to be carried on 
 from the rudiments and beginnings, and go 
 forward to perfection, you should begin to 
 fall back from these to worse things. For not 
 he who begins these things, but he who en- 
 dures in them to the end, shall be saved. 5 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 How the ''evil always lies in wait for our end, and. how we 
 ought continually to watch his head.'' 
 
 For the subtle serpent is ever "watching 
 our heel," that is, is lying in wait for the 
 close, and endeavouring to trip us up right to 
 the end of our life. And therefore it will not 
 be of any use to have made a good beginning 
 and to have eagerly taken the first step towards 
 renouncing the world with all fervour, if a 
 corresponding end does not likewise set it off 
 and conclude it, and if the humility and pov- 
 erty of Christ, of which you have now made 
 profession in His sight, are not preserved by 
 you even to the close of your life, as they were 
 first secured. And that you may succeed in 
 doing this, do you ever "watch his head," 
 i.e. Jhe first rise of thoughts, by bringing them 
 at once to your superior. For thus you will 
 learn to "bruise" his dangerous beginnings, 
 if you are not ashamed to disclose any of them 
 to your superior. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 Of the renunciant's preparation against temptation, and of the 
 few who are worthy of imitation. 
 
 Wherefore, as Scripture says, "when you 
 go forth to serve the Lord stand in the fear 
 of the Lord, and prepare your mind " 7 not 
 for repose or carelessness or delights, but 
 for temptations and troubles. For ' ' through 
 much tribulation we must enter into the king- 
 dom of God." For "strait is the gate and 
 narrow is the way which leadeth unto life, and 
 
 5 Cf. S. Matt. xxiv. 13. 
 
 6 All through this chapter Cassian is alluding to Gen. iii. 15 : "I 
 will put enmity between thee and the woman jnd between thy seed 
 and her seed ; it shalt bruise thy head and thou shalt bruise his 
 heel : " the last clause of which is rendered by the LXX. avros <rov 
 TTjprjcrei Ktfyahriv kou <tv T7)prjcreis avTov irrepvav, where the Vulgate 
 has " Ipsa conteret caput tuum et tu insidiaberis calcaneo ejus." 
 
 1 Ecclus. ii. 1. 
 
232 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 few there be which find it." 1 Consider there- 
 fore that you belong to the few and elect ; and 
 do not grow cold after the examples of the 
 lukewarmness of many: but live as the few, 
 that with the few you may be worthy of a 
 place in the kingdom of God: for "many are 
 called, but few chosen," and it is a "little 
 flock to which it is the Father's good pleasure 
 to give " 2 an inheritance. You should there- 
 fore realize that it is no light sin for one who 
 has made profession of perfection to follow 
 after what is imperfect. And to this state of 
 perfection you may attain by the following 
 steps and in the following way. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 Of the way in which we shall mount towards perfection, where- 
 by we may afterwards ascend from the fear of God up to 
 love. 
 
 "The beginning" of our salvation and the 
 safeguard of it is, as I said, " the fear of the 
 Lord. " 3 For through this those who are 
 trained in the way of perfection can gain a 
 start in conversion as well as purification 
 from vices and security in virtue. And when 
 this has gained an entrance into a man's heart 
 it produces contempt of all things, and begets 
 a forgetfulness of kinsfolk and an horror of the 
 world itself. But by the contempt for the 
 loss- of all possessions humility is gained. 
 And humility is attested by these signs : First 
 of all if a man has all his desires mortified; 
 secondly, if he conceals none of his actions 
 or even of his thoughts from his superior; 
 thirdly, if he puts no trust in his own opinion, 
 but all in the judgment of his superior, and 
 listens eagerly and willingly to his directions; 
 fourthly, if he maintains in everything obedi- 
 ence and gentleness and constant patience; 
 fifthly, if he not only hurts nobody else, but 
 also is not annoyed or vexed at wrongs done 
 to himself; sixthly, if he does nothing and 
 ventures on nothing to which he is not urged 
 by the Common Rule or by the example of 
 our elders; seventhly, if he is contented with 
 the lowest possible position, and considers 
 himself as a bad workman and unworthy in 
 the case of everything enjoined to him; 
 eighthly, if he does not only outwardly pro- 
 fess with his lips that he is inferior to all, but 
 really believes it in the inmost thoughts of his 
 heart; ninthly, if he governs his tongue, and 
 is not over talkative; tenthly, if he is not 
 easily moved or too ready to laugh. For by 
 such signs and the like is true humility recog- 
 nised. And when this has once been genu- 
 
 1 Acts xiv. 22; S. Matt. vii. 14. 
 
 2 S. Matt. xx. 16 ; S. Luke xii. 32. 
 
 3 Prov. ix. 10. 
 
 inely secured, then at once it leads you on by 
 a still higher step to love which knows no fear ; 4 
 and through this you begin, without any effort 
 and as it were naturally, to keep up everything 
 that you formerly observed not without fear 
 of punishment ; no longer now from regard of 
 punishment or fear of it but from love of good- 
 ness itself, and delight in virtue. 5 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 That the monk should seek for examples of perfection not 
 from many instances but from one or a very few. 
 
 And that you may the more easily arrive at 
 this, the examples of the perfect life of one 
 dwelling in the congregation, which you may 
 imitate, should be sought from a very few or 
 indeed from one or two only and not from too 
 many. For apart from the fact that a life 
 which is tested and refined and purified is only 
 to be found in a few, there is this also to be 
 gained, viz. : that a man is more thoroughly 
 instructed and formed by the example of some 
 one, towards the perfection which he sets before 
 him, viz. : that of the Coenobite life. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 The appearance of what infirmities one who lives in a Cceno- 
 bium ought to exhibit.6 
 
 And that you maybe able to attain all this, 
 and continually remain subject to this spiritual 
 rule, you must observe these three things in 
 the congregation: viz.: that as the Psalmist 
 says: "I was like a deaf man and heard not 
 and as one that is dumb who doth not open 
 his mouth; and I became as a man that hear- 
 eth not, and in whose mouth there are no 
 reproofs," 7 so you also should walk as one that 
 is deaf and dumb and blind, so that- — putting 
 aside the contemplation of him who has been 
 rightly chosen by you as your model of per- 
 fection — you should be like a blind man and 
 not see "any of those things which you find 
 to be unedifying, nor 8 be influenced by. the 
 authority or fashion of those who do these 
 things, and give yourself up to what is worse 
 and what you formerly condemned. If you 
 hear any one disobedient or insubordinate or 
 disparaging another or doing anything differ- 
 ent from what was taught to you, you should 
 not go wrong and be led astray by such an 
 
 ■» Cf. 1 John iv. 18. 
 
 5 With this chapter there should be compared the Rule of S. 
 Benedict c. vii., where a very similar description is given of twelve 
 grades " on the mystic ladder [of humility] which Jacob saw," 
 evidently suggested by the chapter before us. 
 
 6 Qttarum debilitatum similitudincm si/seiflcre debeat qui in 
 ccenobio commoratur. — Petschenig. The text of Gazaeus gives as the 
 title of this chapter: "In congrcgativne ccenobitica constituti quid 
 to/erare ac susiinere debeant." 
 
 7 Ps. xxxvii. (xxxviii.) 14, 15. 
 
 8 Nee (Petschenig) . Gaza;us reads tie. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 example to imitate him ; but, " like a deaf 
 man," as if you had never heard it, you should 
 pass it all by. If insults are offered to you 
 or to any one else, or wrongs done, be immov- 
 able, and as far as an answer in retaliation is 
 concerned be silent "as one that is dumb," 
 always singing in your heart this verse of the 
 Psalmist : " J said I will take heed to my ways 
 that I offend not with my tongue. I set a 
 guard to my mouth when the sinner stood be- 
 fore me. I was dumb and was humbled and 
 kept silence from good things." 1 But cultivate 
 above everything this fourth thing which adorns 
 and graces those three of which we have spoken 
 above ; viz. : make yourself, as the Apostle 
 directs, 2 a fool in this world that you may 
 become wise, exercising no discrimination 
 and judgment of your own on any of those 
 matters which are commanded to you, but 
 always showing obedience with all simplicity 
 and faith, judging that alone to be holy, use- 
 ful, and wise which God's law or the decision 
 of your superior declares to you to be such. 
 For built up on such a system of instruction 
 you may continue forever under this discipline, 
 and not fall away from the monastery in con- 
 sequence of any temptations or devices of the 
 enemy. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 How a monk should not look for the blessing of patience in his 
 own case as a result of the virtue of others, but rather as a 
 consequence of his own longsuffering. 
 
 You should therefore not look for patience 
 in your own case from the virtue of others, 
 
 thinking that then only can you secure it wr>en 
 you are not irritated by any (for it is not in 
 your own power to prevent this from happen- 
 ing) ; but rather you should look for it as the 
 consequence of your own humility and long- 
 suffering which does depend on your own will. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 Recapitulation of the explanation how a monk can mount up 
 towards perfection. 
 
 And in order that all these things which 
 have been set forth in a somewhat lengthy 
 discourse may be more easily stamped on your 
 heart and may stick in your thoughts with all 
 tenacity, I will make a summary of them so 
 that you may be able to learn all the changes 
 by heart by reason of their brevity and con- 
 ciseness. Hear then in few words how you 
 can mount up to the heights of perfection with- 
 out any effort or difficulty. " The beginning " 
 of our salvation and " of wisdom " is, according 
 to Scripture, "the fear of the Lord." 3 From 
 the fear of the Lord arises salutary compunc- 
 tion. From compunction of heart springs re- 
 nunciation, i.e. nakedness and contempt of all 
 possessions. From nakedness is begotten 
 humility; from humility the mortification of 
 desires. Through mortification of desires all 
 faults are extirpated and decay. By driving 
 out faults virtues shoot up and increase. By. 
 the budding of virtues purity of heart is 
 gained. By purity of heart the perfection of 
 apostolic love is acquired. 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 OF THE SPIRIT OF GLUTTONY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The transition from the Institutes of the monks to the struggle 
 against the eight principal faults. 
 
 This fifth book of ours is now by the help 
 of God to be produced. For after the four 
 books which have been composed on the cus- 
 toms of the monasteries, we now propose, be- 
 ing strengthened by God through your prayers, 
 to approach the struggle against the eight prin- 
 
 cipal faults, i.e. first, Gluttony or the pleasures 
 of the palate; secondly, Fornication; thirdly, 
 Covetousness, which means Avarice, or, as it 
 may more properly be called, the love of 
 money, fourthly, Anger; fifthly, Dejection; 
 sixthly, "Accidie," 4 which is heaviness or 
 
 1 Ps. xxxviii. (xxxix.) 2, 3. 
 
 Z Cf. 1 Cor. iii. 18, 
 
 3 Ps. cxi. 10. 
 
 4 Acedia. It is much to be regretted that the old English word 
 " Accidie " has entirely dropped out of use. It is used by Chaucer 
 and other early writers' for the sin of spiritual sloth or sluggishness. 
 See " The Persone's Tale," where it is thus described: " After the 
 sinne of wrath, now wol I speke of the sinne of accidie or slouth : 
 for envie blindeth the herte of a man, and ire troubleth a man, and 
 accidie maketh him hevy, thoughtful, and wrawe. Envie and ire 
 
234 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 weariness of heart; seventhly, xevotio$la which 
 means foolish or vain glory; eighthly, pride. 
 And on entering upon this difficult task we 
 need your prayers, O most blessed Pope Cas- 
 tor, more than ever; that we may be enabled 
 in the first place worthily to investigate the 
 nature of these in all points however trifling 
 or hidden or obscure: and next to explain 
 with sufficient clearness the causes of them; 
 and thirdly to bring forward fitly the cures and 
 remedies for them. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 How the occasions of these faults, being found in everybody, 
 are ignored by everybody; and how we need the Lord's help 
 to make them plain. 
 
 And of these passions as the occasions are 
 recognized by everybody as soon as they are 
 laid open by the teaching of the elders, so 
 before they are revealed, although we are all 
 overcome by them, and they exist in every one, 
 yet nobody knows of them. But we trust that 
 we shall be able in some measure to explain 
 them, if by your prayers that word of the 
 Lord, which was announced by Isaiah, may 
 apply to us also — "I will go before thee, and 
 bring low the mighty ones of the land, I will 
 break the gates of brass, and cut asunder the 
 iron bars, and I will open to thee concealed 
 treasures and hidden secrets " * — so that the 
 word of the Lord may go before us also, and 
 first may bring low the mighty ones of our 
 land, i.e. these same evil passions which we 
 are desirous to overcome, and which claim 
 for themselves dominion and a most horrible 
 tyranny in our mortal body; and may make 
 them yield to our investigation and expla- 
 nation, and thus breaking the gates of our 
 ignorance, and cutting asunder the bars of 
 vices which shut us out from true knowledge, 
 may lead to the hidden things of our secrets, 
 and reveal to us who have been illuminated, 
 according to the Apostle's word, "the hidden 
 things of darkness, and may make manifest 
 
 maken bitternesse in herte, which bitternesse is mother of accidie, and 
 benimeth him the love of alle goodnesse ; than is accidie the an- 
 guish of a troubled herte." The English word lingered on till 
 the seventeenth century, as it is used by Bishop Hall(Serm.V. 
 140)1 in the form "Acedy," which is etymologically more correct 
 as being nearer the Latin Acedia and the Greek 'AktjSi'o, a 
 word which occurs in the LXX. version of the Old Testament 
 in Isaiah lxi. 3; Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 2S; Baruch iii. 1; Ecclus. 
 xxix. 6 (cf. the use of the verb aKijSia^u in Ps. lx. (lxi.) 2; 
 ci._(cii.) 1; cxlii. (cxliii.) 4 ; Ecclus. xxii. 14). In ecclesiastical 
 writers the term Acedia is a favourite one to denote primarily the 
 mental prostiation induced by fasting and other physical causes, and 
 afterwards spiritual sloth and sluggishness in general. It forms the 
 subject of the tenth book of the Institutes, and is treated of again by 
 Cassian in the Conferences V. iii. sq.; cf. also the " Summa " of S. 
 Thomas, II. ii. q. xxxv. , where there is a full discussion of its nature 
 and character. — cf. Dr. Paget's essay "Concerning Accidie" in 
 " The Spirit of Discipline." 
 1 Isa. xlv. 2, 3. 
 
 the counsels of the hearts, " 2 that thus pene- 
 trating with pure eyes of the mind to the foul 
 darkness of vices, we may be able to dis- 
 close them and drag them forth to light; and 
 may succeed in explaining their occasions and 
 natures to those who are either free from them, 
 or are still tied and bound by them, and so 
 passing as the prophet says, 3 through the fire 
 of vices which terribly inflame our minds, we 
 may be able forthwith to pass also through 
 the water of virtues which extinguish them 
 unharmed, and being bedewed (as it were) 
 with spiritual remedies may be found worthy 
 to be brought in purity of heart to the conso- 
 lations of perfection. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 How our first struggle must be against the spirit of gluttony, 
 i.e. the pleasures of the palate. 
 
 And so the first conflict we must enter 
 upon is that against gluttony, which we have 
 explained as the pleasures of the palate: and 
 in the first place as we are going to speak of 
 the system of fasts, and the quality of food, 
 we must again recur to the traditions and 
 customs of the Egyptians, as everybody knows 
 that they contain a more advanced discipline 
 in the matter of self-control, and a perfect 
 method of discrimination. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The testimony of Abbot Antony in which he teaches that each 
 virtue ought to be sought for from him who professes it in a 
 special degree. 
 
 For it is an ancient and excellent saying of 
 the blessed Antony 4 that when a monk is en- 
 deavouring after the plan of the monastic life 
 to reach the heights of a more advanced 
 perfection, and, having learned the considera- 
 tion of discretion, is able now to stand in his 
 own judgment, and to arrive at the very 
 summit of the anchorite's life, he ought by 
 no means to seek for all kinds of virtues from 
 one man however excellent. For one is 
 adorned with flowers of knowledge, . another 
 is more strongly fortified with methods of 
 discretion, another is established in the dig- 
 nity of patience, another excels in the virtue 
 of humility, another in that of continence, 
 another is decked with the grace of simplicity. 
 
 2 1 Cor. iv. 5. 
 
 3 Ps. lxv. (Ixvi.) 12. 
 
 4 S. Antony, the " founder of asceticism " and one of the most 
 famous of the early monks, was born about 250 A.D. at Coma, on 
 the borders of Egypt, and died about 355, at the great age of 105. 
 He is frequently mentioned by Cassian in the Conferences. 
 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 2 35 
 
 This one excels all others in magnanimity, 
 that one in pity, another in vigils, another 
 in silence, another in earnestness of work. 
 And therefore the monk who desires to gather 
 spiritual honey, ought like a most careful bee, 
 to suck out virtue from those who specially 
 possess it, and should diligently store it up 
 in the vessel of his own breast: nor should he 
 investigate what any one is lacking in, but 
 only regard and gather whatever virtue he has. 
 For if we want to gain all virtues from some 
 one person, we shall with great difficulty or 
 perhaps never at all find suitable examples for 
 us to imitate. For though we do not as yet 
 see that even Christ is made "all things in 
 all," as the Apostle says; 1 still in this way 
 we can find Him bit by bit in all. For it is said 
 of Him, " Who was made of God to you wis- 
 dom and righteousness and sanctification and 
 redemption."' 2 While then in one there is 
 found wisdom, in another righteousness, in 
 another sanctification, in another kindness, 
 in another chastity, in another humility, in 
 another patience, Christ is at the present time 
 divided, member by member, among all of 
 the saints. But when all come together into 
 the unity of the faith and virtue, He is formed 
 into the "perfect man," 3 completing the ful- 
 ness of His body, in the joints and proper- 
 ties of all His members. Until then that time 
 arrives when God will be "all in all," for 
 the present God can in the way of which we 
 have spoken be "in all," through particular 
 virtues, although He is not yet "all in all" 
 through the fulness of them. For although 
 our religion has but one end and aim, yet 
 there are different ways by which we ap- 
 proach God, as will be more fully shown in 
 the Conferences of the Elders. 4 And so we 
 must seek a model of discretion and con- 
 tinence more particularly from those from 
 whom we see that those virtues flow forth 
 more abundantly through the grace of the 
 Holy Spirit; not that any one can alone ac- 
 quire those things which are divided among 
 many, but in order that in those good quali- 
 ties of which we are capable we may advance 
 towards the imitation of those who especially 
 have acquired them. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 That one and the same rule of fasting cannot be observed by 
 everybody. 
 
 And so on the manner of fasting a uniform 
 rule cannot easily be observed, because every- 
 body has not the same strength; nor is it 
 
 i Cor. xv. 28. 2 1 Cor. i. 30. 3 Eph. iv. 13. 
 
 4 See especially Conferences XVIII. and XIX. 
 
 like the rest of the virtues, acquired by stead- 
 fastness of mind alone. And therefore, be- 
 cause it does not depend only on mental 
 firmness, since it has to do with the possibili- 
 ties of the body, we have received this ex- 
 planation concerning it which has been handed 
 down to us, viz. : that there is a difference of 
 time, manner, and quality of the refreshment 
 in proportion to the difference of condition of 
 the body, the age, and sex: but that there is 
 one and the same rule of restraint to every- 
 body as regards continence of mind, and the 
 virtue of the spirit. For it is impossible for 
 every one to prolong his fast for a week, or 
 to postpone taking refreshment during a two 
 or three days' abstinence. By many people 
 also who are worn out with sickness and 
 especially with old age, a fast even up to sun- 
 set cannot be endured without suffering. The 
 sickly food of moistened beans does not agree 
 with everybody: nor does a sparing diet of 
 fresh vegetables suit all, nor is a scanty meal 
 of dry bread permitted to all alike. One man 
 does not feel satisfied with two pounds, for 
 another a meal of one pound, or six ounces, 
 is too much; but there is one aim and object 
 of continence in the case of all of these, viz. : 
 that no one may be overburdened beyond the 
 measure of his appetite, by gluttony. For it 
 is not only the quality, but also the quantity 
 of food taken which dulls the keenness of the 
 mind, and when the soul as well as the flesh 
 is surfeited, kindles the baneful and fiery in- 
 centive to vice. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 That the mind is not intoxicated by wine alone. 
 
 The belly when filled with all kinds of food 
 gives birth to seeds of wantonness, nor 
 can the mind, when choked with the weight 
 of food, keep the guidance and government of 
 the thoughts. For not only is drunkenness 
 with wine wont to intoxicate the mind, but 
 excess of all kinds of food makes it weak and 
 uncertain, and robs it of all its power of pure 
 and clear contemplation. The cause of the 
 overthrow and wantonness of Sodom was not 
 drunkenness through wine, but fulness of bread. 
 Hear the Lord rebuking Jerusalem through the 
 prophet. "For how did thy sister Sodom sin, 
 except in that she ate her bread in fulness and 
 abundance? " 5 And because through fulness 
 of bread they were inflamed with uncontrol- 
 lable lust of the flesh, they were burnt up by 
 the judgment of God with fire and brimstone 
 from heaven. But if excess of bread alone 
 
 5 Ezek. xvi. 49. 
 
236 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 drove them to such a headlong downfall into 
 sin through the vice of satiety, what shall we 
 think of those who with a vigorous body dare 
 to partake of meat and wine with unbounded 
 licence, taking not just what their bodily 
 frailty demands, but what the eager desire of 
 the mind suggests. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 How bodily weakness need not interfere with purity of heart. 
 
 Bodily weakness is no hindrance to purity 
 of heart, if only so much food is taken as the 
 bodily weakness requires, and not what pleas- 
 ure asks for. It is easier to find men who 
 altogether abstain from the more fattening 
 kinds of foods than men who make a moderate 
 use of what is allowed to our necessities; and 
 men who deny themselves everything out of 
 love of continence than men who taking food 
 on the plea of weakness preserve the due 
 measure of what is sufficient. 1 For bodily 
 weakness has its glory of self-restraint, where 
 though food is permitted to the failing body, 
 a man deprives himself of his refreshment, 
 although he needs it, and only indulges in 
 just so much food as the strict judgment of 
 temperance decides to be sufficient for the 
 necessities of life, and not what the longing 
 appetite asks for. The more delicate foods, 
 as they conduce to bodily health, so they 
 need not destroy the purity of chastity, if they 
 are taken in . moderation. For whatever 
 strength 2 is gained by partaking of them is 
 used up in the toil and waste of care. Where- 
 fore as no state of life can be deprived of the 
 virtue of abstinence, so to none is the crown 
 of perfection denied. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 How food should be taken with regard to the aim at perfect 
 continence.^ 
 
 And so it is a very true and most excellent 
 saying of the Fathers that the right method 
 of fasting and abstinence lies in the measure 
 
 1 Petschenig's text in this passage is as follows: " Facilius vidi- 
 mus viros qui ab esciscorpuleutioribus omnimodis temperarent, quam 
 moderate usos pro necessitate concessis, et qui totum sibi pro amore 
 continentiaj denegarent, quam qui eas sub infirmitatis occasione 
 sumentes mensuram sufficiently custodirent." Gazaeus gives some- 
 thing quite different : " Facilius vidimus victos qui ab esciscorpuleu- 
 tioribus omnimodis temperarent, quas moderate usus pro necessitate 
 concedit, et qui totum sibi pro continentiaj amore denegarent ; quam 
 qui eas sub infirmitatis occasione sumentes mensuram sufficientias 
 custodirent." 
 
 2 Quidquid enim fortitudinis. — Petschenig. Gaza?us has "Quid 
 quid enim fortitudinis causii." 
 
 3 Quod pro fierfectce continentite fine esca sumenda sit. — Pet- 
 schenig. Quomodo cibum appetere, ac sumere liceat is the title as 
 given by Gazjeus. 
 
 of moderation and bodily chastening; and 
 that this is the aim of perfect virtue for all 
 alike, viz. : that though we are still forced to 
 desire it, yet we should exercise self-restraint 
 in the matter of the food, which we are obliged 
 to take owing to the necessity of supporting 
 the body. For even if one is weak in body, 
 he can attain to a perfect virtue and one equal 
 to that of those who are thoroughly strong and 
 healthy, if with firmness of mind he keeps a 
 check upon the desires and lusts which are 
 not due to weakness of the flesh. For the 
 Apostle says: "And take not care for the flesh 
 in its lusts." 4 He does not forbid care for it 
 in every respect : but says that care is not to 
 be taken in regard to its desires and lusts. 
 He cuts away the luxurious fondness for the 
 flesh: he does not exclude the control neces- 
 sary for life : he does the former, lest through 
 pampering the flesh we should be involved in 
 dangerous entanglements of the desires; the 
 latter lest the body should be injured by our 
 fault and unable to fulfil its spiritual and ne- 
 cessary duties. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Of the measure of the chastisment to be undertaken, and the 
 remedy of fasting. 
 
 The perfection then of abstinence is not to 
 be gathered from calculations of time alone, nor 
 only from the quality of the food; but beyond 
 everything from the judgment of conscience. 
 For each one should impose such a sparing 
 diet on himself as the battle of his bodily 
 struggle may require. The canonical obser- 
 vance of fasts is indeed valuable and by all 
 means to be kept. But unless this is followed 
 by a temperate partaking of food, one will not 
 be able to arrive at the goal of perfection. ■ 
 For the abstinence of prolonged fasts — where 
 repletion of body follows — produces weari-, 
 ness for a time rather than purity and chastity. 
 Perfection of mind indeed depends upon the 
 abstinence of the belly. He has no lasting 
 purity and chastity, who is not contented 
 always to keep to a well-balanced and temper- 
 ate diet. Fasting, although severe, yet if 
 unnecessary relaxation follows, is rendered 
 useless, and presently leads to the vice of 
 gluttony. A reasonable supply of food par- 
 taken of daily with moderation, is better than 
 a severe and long fast at intervals. Excessive 
 fasting has been known not only to undermine 
 the constancy of the mind, but also to weaken 
 the power of prayers through sheer weariness 
 of body. 
 
 4 Rom. xiii. 14. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 237 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 That abstinence from food is not of itself sufficient for preser- 
 vation of bodily and mental purity. 
 
 In order to preserve the mind and body in 
 a perfect condition abstinence from food is 
 not alone sufficient: unless the other virtues 
 of the mind as well are joined to it. And so 
 humility must first be learned by the virtue of 
 obedience, and grinding toil l and bodily ex- 
 haustion. The possession of money must not 
 only be avoided, but the desire for it must be 
 utterly rooted out. For it is not enough not 
 to possess it, — a thing which comes to many 
 as a matter of necessity: but we ought, if by 
 chance it is offered, not even to admit the 
 wish to have it. The madness of anger should 
 be controlled; the downcast look of dejec- 
 tion be overcome ; vainglory should be de- 
 spised, the disdainfulness of pride trampled 
 under foot, and the shifting and wandering 
 thoughts of the mind restrained by continual 
 recollection of God. And the slippery wan- 
 derings of our heart should be brought back 
 again to the contemplation of God as often 
 as our crafty enemy, in his endeavour to 
 lead away the mind a captive from this con- 
 sideration, creeps into the innermost recesses 
 of the heart. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 That bodily lusts are not extinguished except by the entire 
 rooting out of vice. 
 
 For it is an impossibility that the fiery 
 motions of the body can be extinguished, be- 
 fore the incentives of the other chief vices are 
 utterly rooted out: concerning which we will 
 speak in their proper place, if God permits, 
 separately, in different books. But now we 
 have to deal with Gluttony, that is the desire 
 of the palate, against which our first battle is. 
 He then will never be able to check the mo- 
 tions of a burning lust, who cannot restrain the 
 desires of the appetite. The chastity of the 
 inner man is shown by the perfection of this 
 virtue. For you will never feel sure that he 
 can strive against the opposition of a stronger 
 enemy, whom you have seen overcome by 
 weaker ones in a higher conflict. For of all 
 virtues the nature is but one and the same, 
 although they appear to be divided into many 
 different kinds and names: just as there is 
 but one substance of gold, although it raav 
 
 1 Operis contritione (Petschenig) : cordis cantritione (Gazaeus). 
 
 seem to be distributed through many different 
 kinds of jewelry according to the skill of the 
 goldsmith. And so he is proved to possess 
 no virtue perfectly, who is known to have 
 broken down in some part of them. For Kow 
 can we believe that that man has extinguished 
 the burning heats of concupiscence (which are 
 kindled not only by bodily incitement but by 
 vice of the mind), who could not assuage the 
 sharp stings of anger which break out from 
 intemperance of heart alone ? Or how can. we 
 think that he has repressed the wanton desires 
 of the flesh and spirit, who has not been able 
 to conquer the simple fault of pride? Or how 
 can we believe that one has trampled under 
 foot a wantonness which is ingrained in the 
 flesh, who has not been able to disown the 
 love of money, which is something external 
 and outside our own substance ? In what way 
 will he triumph in the war of flesh and spirit, 
 who . has not been man enough to cure the 
 disease of dejection? However great a city 
 may be protected by the height of its walls 
 and the strength of its closed gates, yet it is 
 laid waste by the giving up of one postern 
 however small. For what difference does it 
 make whether a dangerous foe makes his way 
 into the heart of the city over high walls, and 
 through the wide spaces of the gate, or through 
 secret and narrow passages ? 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 That in our spiritual contest we ought to draw an example from 
 the carnal contests. 
 
 "One who strives in the games is not 
 crowned unless he has contended lawfully." 2 
 One who wants to extinguish the natural 
 desires of the flesh, should first hasten to 
 overcome those vices whose seat is outside 
 our nature. For if we desire to make trial of 
 the force of the Apostle's saying, we ought first 
 to learn what are the laws and what the disci- 
 pline of the world's contest, so that finally by 
 a comparison with these, we may be able to 
 know what the blessed Apostle meant to teach 
 to us who are striving in a spiritual contest 
 by this illustration. For in these conflicts, 
 which, as the same Apostle says, hold out " a 
 corruptible crown" 3 to the victors, this rule is 
 kept, that he who aims at preparing himself 
 for the crown of glory, which js embellished 
 with the privilege of exemption, and who is 
 anxious to enter the highest struggle in the 
 
 2 2 Tim. ii. 5. 
 
 3 1 Cor. ix. 25. 
 
THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 contest, should first in the Olympic and Pyth- 
 ian games give evidence of his abilities as a 
 youth, and his strength in its first beginnings ; 
 since in these the younger men who want to 
 practise this training are tested as to whether 
 they deserve or ought to be admitted to it, by 
 the judgment both of the president of the 
 games and of the whole multitude. And when 
 any one has been carefully tested, and has first 
 been proved to be stained by no infamy of life, 
 and then has been adjudged not ignoble 
 through the yoke of slavery, and for this 
 reason unworthy to be admitted to this train- 
 ing and to the company of those who practise 
 it, and when thirdly he produces sufficient 
 evidence of his ability and prowess and by 
 striving with the younger men and his own 
 compeers has shown both his skill and valour 
 as a youth, and going forward from the con- 
 tests of boys has been by the scrutiny of the 
 president permitted to mix with full-grown 
 men and those of approved experience, and 
 has not only shown himself their equal in 
 valour by constant striving with them, but has 
 also many a time carried off the prize of vic- 
 tory among them, then at last he is allowed to 
 approach the most illustrious conflict of the 
 games, permission to contend in which is 
 granted to none but victors and those who are 
 decked with many crowns and prizes. If we 
 understand this illustration from a carnal 
 contest, we ought by a comparison with it to 
 know what is the system and method of our 
 spiritual conflict as well. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 That we cannot enter the battle of the inner man unless we 
 have been set free from the vice of gluttony. 
 
 We also ought first to give evidence of our 
 freedom from subjection to the iLsh. For 
 " of whom a man is overcome, of the same is 
 he the slave. " x And " every one that doeth sin 
 is the slave of sin." 2 And when the scrutiny 
 of the president of the contest finds that we 
 are stained by no infamy of disgraceful lust, 
 and when we are judged by him not to be 
 slaves of the flesh, and ignoble and unworthy 
 of the Olympic struggle against our vices, 
 then we shall be able to enter the lists against 
 our equals, that is the lusts of the flesh and 
 the motions and disturbances of the soul. 
 For it is impossible for a full belly to make 
 trial of the combat of the inner man: nor is 
 he worthy to be tried in harder battles, who 
 can be overcome in a slight skirmish. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 How gluttonous desires can be overcome. 
 
 First then we must trample under foot glut- 
 tonous desires, and to this end the mind must 
 be reduced not only by fasting, but also by 
 vigils, by reading, and by frequent compunc- 
 tion of heart for those things in which perhaps 
 it recollects that it has been deceived or over- 
 come, sighing at one time with horror at sin, 
 at another time inflamed with the desire of 
 perfection and saintliness: until it is fully 
 occupied and possessed by such cares and 
 meditations, and recognizes the participation 
 of food to be not so much a concession to 
 pleasure, as a burden laid upon it; and con- 
 siders it to be rather a necessity for the body 
 than anything desirable for the soul. And, 
 preserved by this zeal of mind and continual 
 compunction, we shall beat down the wanton- 
 ness of the flesh (which becomes more proud 
 and haughty by being fomented with food) 
 and its dangerous incitement, and so by the 
 copiousness of our tears and the weeping of 
 our heart we shall succeed in extinguishing 
 the fiery furnace of our body, which is kindled 
 by the Babylonish king 8 who continually fur- 
 nishes us with opportunities for sin, and vices 
 with which we burn more fiercely, instead of 
 naphtha and pitch — until, through the grace 
 of God, instilled like dew by His Spirit in 
 our hearts, the heats of fleshly lusts can be 
 altogether deadened. This then is our first 
 contest, this is as it were our first trial in the 
 Olympic games, to extinguish the desires of 
 the palate and the belly by the longing for 
 perfection. On which account we must not 
 only trample down all unnecessary desire for 
 food by the contemplation of the virtues, 
 but also must take what is necessary for the 
 support of nature, not without anxiety of heart, 
 as if it were opposed to chastity. And so at 
 length we may enter on the course of our life, 
 so that there may be no time in which we feel 
 that we are recalled from our spiritual studies, 
 further than when we are obliged by the weak- 
 ness of the body to descend for the needful 
 care of it. And when we are subjected to 
 this necessity — of attending to the wants of 
 life rather than the desires of the soul — we 
 should hasten to withdraw as quickly as pos- 
 sible from it, as if it kept us back from really 
 health-giving studies. For we cannot pos- 
 sibly scorn the gratification of food presented 
 to us, unless the mind is fixed on the contem- 
 plation of divine things, and is the rather 
 
 1 2 Pet. ii. 19. 
 
 2 John viii. 34 
 
 3 Cf. Dan. iii.6; and see below Book VI. c. xvii. where Cassian 
 once more speaks of the devil as the Babylonish king. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 239 
 
 entranced with the love of virtue and the 
 delight of things celestial. And so a man 
 will despise all things present as transitory, 
 when he has securely fixed his mental gaze on 
 those things which are immovable and eternal, 
 and already contemplates in heart — though 
 still in the flesh — the blessedness of his 
 future life. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 How a monk must always be eager to preserve his purity of 
 heart. 
 
 It is like the case when one endeavours to 
 strike some mighty prize of virtue on high 
 pointed out by some very small mark; with 
 the keenest eyesight he points the aim of his 
 dart, knowing that large rewards of glory and 
 prizes depend on his hitting it; and he 
 turns away his gaze from every other consid- 
 eration, and must direct it thither, where he 
 sees that the reward and prize is placed, be- 
 cause he would be sure to lose the prize of his 
 skill and the reward of his prowess if the 
 keenness of his gaze should be diverted ever 
 so little. 1 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 How, after the fashion of the Olympic games, a monk should 
 not attempt spiritual conflicts unless he has won battles over 
 the flesh. 
 
 And so when the desires of the belly and of 
 the palate have been by these considerations 
 overcome, and when we have been declared, 
 as in the Olympic contests, neither slaves of 
 the flesh nor infamous through the brand of sin, 
 we shall be adjudged to be worthy of the con- 
 test in higher struggles as well, and, leaving 
 behind lessons of this kind, may be believed 
 capable of entering the lists against spiritual 
 wickednesses, against which only victors and 
 those who are allowed to contend in a spiritual 
 conflict are deemed worthy to struggle. For 
 this is so to speak a most solid foundation of 
 all the conflicts, viz. : that in the first instance 
 the impulses of carnal desires should be 
 destroyed. For no one can lawfully strive 
 unless his own flesh has been overcome. And 
 one who does not strive lawfully certainly 
 cannot take a share in the contest, nor win a 
 crown of glory and the grace of victory. But 
 if we have been overcome in this battle, hav- 
 ing been proved as it were slaves of carnal 
 lusts, and thus displaying the tokens neither of 
 
 1 Compare a similar illustration in the Conferences I. v. 
 
 freedom nor of strength, we shall be straight- 
 way repulsed from the conflicts with spiritual 
 hosts, as unworthy and as slaves, with every 
 mark of confusion. For " every one that doeth 
 sin is the servant of sin." 2 And this will be 
 addressed to us by the blessed Apostle, to- 
 gether with those among whom fornication is 
 named. "Temptation does not overtake you, 
 except such as is human." 3 For if we do not 
 seek for strength of mind i we shall not deserve 
 to make trial of severer contest against wicked- 
 ness on high, if we have been unable to sub- 
 due our weak flesh which resists the spirit. 
 And some not understanding this testimony of 
 the Apostle, have read the subjunctive instead 
 of the indicative mood, i.e., " Let no tempta- 
 tion overcome you, except such as is human." 6 
 But it is clear that it is rather said by him 
 with the meaning not of a wish but of a dec- 
 laration or rebuke. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 That the foundation and basis of the spiritual combat must be 
 laid in the struggle against gluttony. 
 
 Would you like to hear a true athlete of 
 Christ striving according to the rules and 
 laws of the conflict? "I," said he, "so run, 
 not as uncertainly; I so fight, not as one that 
 beateth the air: but I chastise my body and 
 bring it into subjection, lest by any means when 
 I have preached to others I myself should be a 
 castaway." 6 You see how he made the chief 
 part of the struggle depend upon himself, that is 
 upon his flesh, as if on a most sure foundation, 
 and placed the result of the battle simply in 
 the chastisement of the flesh and the subjec- 
 tion of his body. " I then so run not as un- 
 certainly." He does not run uncertainly, 
 because, 7 looking to the heavenly Jerusalem, 
 he has a mark set, towards which his heart is 
 swiftly directed without swerving. He does 
 not run uncertainly, because, "forgetting those 
 things which are behind, he reaches forth to 
 those that are before, pressing towards the 
 mark for the prize of the high calling of God 
 in Christ Jesus," 8 whither he ever directs his 
 mental gaze, and hastening towards it with 
 all speed 9 of heart, proclaims with confidence, 
 "I have fought a good fight, I have finished 
 
 2 S. John viii. 34. 
 
 3 1 Cor. x. 13. 
 
 * Mentis robore non qucesito. — Petschenig. Gazasus omits the 
 negative and reads conquisito. 
 
 5 S. Jerome's version, which was certainly known to Cassian (cf. 
 Conferences XXIII. viii.) has " Temptatio vos non apprehendat 
 nisi humana." 
 
 6 1 Cor. ix. 26, 27. 
 
 7 Quia (Petschenig) : Qui (Gazseus). 
 
 8 Phil. iii. 13, 14. 
 
 9 Properatione, others Prceparatione. 
 
240 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 my course, I have kept the faith." 1 And 
 because he knows he has run unweariedly 
 "after the odour of the ointment" 2 of Christ 
 with ready devotion of heart, and has won the 
 battle of the spiritual combat by the chastise- 
 ment of the flesh, he boldly concludes and says, 
 " Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown 
 of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous 
 judge, will give to me in that day." And that 
 he might open up to us also a like hope of 
 reward, if we desire to imitate him in the 
 struggle of his course, he added: "But not to 
 me only, but to all also who love His com- 
 ing ; " 3 declaring that we shall be sharers of his 
 crown in the day of judgment, if we love the 
 coming of Christ — not that one only which 
 will be manifest to men even against their 
 will; but also this one which daily comes to 
 pass in holy souls — and if we gain the victory 
 in the fight by chastising the body. And of 
 this coming it is that the Lord speaks in the 
 Gospel. "I," says He, "and my Father will 
 come to him, and will make our abode with 
 him." 4 And again: "Behold, I stand at the 
 door and knock : if any man hear my voice and 
 open the gate, I will come in to him and will 
 sup with him, and he with me." 6 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Of the number of different conflicts and victories through which 
 the blessed Apostle ascended to the crown of the highest 
 combat. 
 
 But he does not mean that he has only 
 finished the contest of a race when he says " I 
 so run, not as uncertainly " (a phrase which 
 has more particularly to do with the intention 
 of the mind and fervour of his spirit, in which 
 he followed Christ with all zeal, cjying out 
 with the Bride, "We will run after thee for 
 the odour of thine ointments;" 6 and again, 
 " My soul cleaveth unto thee : " 7 but he also 
 testifies that he has conquered in another kind 
 of contest, saying, " So fight I, not as one that 
 beateth the air, but I chastise my body and 
 bring it into subjection." And this properly 
 has to do with the pains of abstinence, and 
 bodily fasting and affliction of the flesh: as he 
 means by this that he is a vigorous bruiser of 
 his own flesh, and points out that not in vain 
 has he planted his blows of continence against 
 it; but that he has gained a battle triumph by 
 mortifying his own body; for when it is chas- 
 tised with the blows of continence and struck 
 down with the boxing-gloves of fasting, he has 
 
 1 2 Tim. iv. 7. 
 
 2 Cant. i. 3. 
 
 3 2 Tim. iv. S. 
 
 4 John xiv. 23. 
 
 5 Rev. iii. 20. 
 
 6 Cant. i. 3. 
 
 7 Ps. lxii. (lxiii.) 9. 
 
 secured for his victorious spirit the crown 
 of immortality and the prize of incorruption. 
 You see the orthodox method of the contest, 
 and consider the issue of spiritual combats : 
 how the athlete of Christ having gained a 
 victory over the rebellious flesh, having cast 
 it as it were under his feet, is carried forward 
 as triumphing on high. And therefore "he 
 does not run uncertainly," because he trusts 
 that he will forthwith enter the holy city, the 
 heavenly Jerusalem. He "so fights," that is 
 with fasts and humiliation of the flesh, "not 
 as one that beateth the air," that is, striking 
 into space with blows of continence, through 
 which he struck not the empty air, but those 
 spirits who inhabit it, by the chastisement of 
 his body. For one who says "not as one that 
 beateth the air," shows that he strikes — not 
 empty and void air, but certain beings in the 
 air. And because he had overcome in this 
 kind of contest, and marched on enriched with 
 the rewards of many crowns, not undeservedly 
 does he begin to enter the lists against still 
 more powerful foes, and having triumphed over 
 his former rivals, he boldly makes proclama- 
 tion and says, " Now our striving is not against 
 flesh and blood, but against principalities, 
 against powers, against world-rulers of this 
 darkness, against spiritual wickedness in 
 heavenly places." 8 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 That the athlete of Christ, so long as he is in the body, is 
 never without a battle. 
 
 The athlete of Christ, as long as he is in 
 the body, is never in want of a victory to 
 be gained in contests : but in proportion as 
 he grows by triumphant successes, so does a 
 severer kind of struggle confront him. For 
 when the flesh is subdued and conquered, 
 what swarms of foes, what hosts of enemies 
 are incited by his triumphs and rise up against 
 the victorious soldier of Christ ! for fear lest 
 in the ease of peace the soldier of Christ might 
 relax his efforts and begin to forget the glori- 
 ous struggles of his contests, and be rendered 
 slack through the idleness which is caused by 
 immunity from danger, and be cheated of the 
 reward of his prizes and the recompense of his 
 triumphs. And so if we want to rise with ever- 
 growing virtue to these stages of triumph we 
 ought also in the same way to enter the lists of 
 battle and begin by saying with the Apostle : 
 " I so fight, not as one that beateth the air, 
 but I chastise my body and bring it into sub- 
 
 Eph. vi. 12. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 241 
 
 jection," 1 that when this conflict is ended 
 we may once more be able to say with him : 
 "we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but 
 against principalities, against powers, against 
 world-rulers of this darkness, against spiritual 
 wickedness in heavenly places." 2 For other- 
 wise we cannot possibly join battle with them 
 nor deserve to make trial of spiritual combats 
 if we are baffled in a carnal contest, and smit- 
 ten down in a struggle with the belly: and 
 /deservedly will it be said of us by the Apostle 
 'in the language of blame : " Temptation does 
 not overtake you, except what is common to 
 man." 3 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 How a monk should not overstep the proper hours for taking 
 food, if he wants to proceed to the struggle of interior 
 conflicts. 
 
 A monk therefore who wants to proceed to 
 the struggle of interior conflicts should lay 
 down this as a precaution for himself to begin 
 with: viz. : that he will not in any case allow 
 himself to be overcome by any delicacies, or 
 ,take anything to eat or drink before the fast 4 
 |is over and the proper hour for refreshment 
 /has come, outside meal times; 5 nor, when the 
 meal is over, will he allow himself to take a 
 morsel however small; and likewise that he 
 will observe the canonical time and measure 
 of sleep. For that self-indulgence must be 
 cut off in the same way that the sin of un- 
 ohastity has to be rooted out. For if a man 
 is unable to check the unnecessary desires of 
 the appetite how will he be able to extinguish 
 the fire of carnal lust? And if a man is not 
 able to control passions, which are openly 
 manifest and are but small, how will he be 
 able with temperate discretion to fight against 
 those which are secret, and excite him, when 
 none are there to see ? And therefore strength 
 of mind is tested in separate impulses and in 
 any sort of passion : and if it is overcome in 
 the case of very small and manifest desires, 
 how it will endure in those that are really 
 great and powerful and hidden, each man's 
 conscience must witness for himself. 
 
 1 1 Cor. ix. 26, 27. 
 
 2 Eph. vi. 12. 
 
 3 1 Cor. x. 13. 
 
 4 Statio. This is properly the term for the weekly fasts on Wed- 
 nesday and Friday, observed by the early Church in memory of our 
 Lord's betrayal and crucifixion. See Tertullian on Prayer c. xix. ; 
 on Fasting c. i. x. In this place the word appears to be used by 
 Cassian for the close of the fast ; while elsewhere he uses it for fast- 
 ing generally (not specially on Wednesday and Friday,) as in c. xxiv. 
 of the present book, and in the Conferences, II. xxv. ; XXI. xxi. 
 The origin of the word is somewhat uncertain (a) because the fast 
 was observed on stated days (statis diebus) ; or (b), as S. Ambrose 
 suggests, because " our fasts are our encampments which protect us 
 from the devil's attacks : in short, they are called stationes, because 
 standing {stantes) and staying in them we repel our plotting foe " 
 (Serm. 25). See Dictionary of Christian Antiquities, vol. ii. p. 192S. 
 
 5 Extra metisam. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Of the inward peace of a monk, and of spiritual abstinence. 
 
 For it is not an external enemy whom we 
 have to dread. Our foe is shut up within 
 ourselves : an internal warfare is daily waged 
 by us: and if we are victorious in this, all 
 external things will be made weak, and every- 
 thing will be made peaceful and subdued for 
 the soldier of Christ. We shall have no ex- 
 ternal enemy to fear, if what is within is over- 
 come and subdued to the spirit. And let us 
 not believe that that external fast from visible 
 food alone can possibly be sufficient for per- 
 fection of heart and purity of body unless 
 with it there has also been united a fast of 
 the soul. For the soul also has its foods 
 which are harmful, fattened on which, even 
 without superfluity of meats, it is involved in 
 a downfall of wantonness. Slander is its food, 
 and indeed one that is very dear to it. A 
 burst of anger also is its food, even if it be a 
 very slight one; yet supplying it with miser- 
 able food for an hour, and destroying it as 
 well with its deadly savour. Envy is a food 
 of the mind, corrupting it with its poisonous 
 juices and never ceasing to make it wretched 
 and miserable at the prosperity and success 
 of another. Kenodoxia, i.e., vainglory is its 
 food, which gratifies it with a delicious meal 
 for a time ; but afterwards strips it clear and 
 bare of all virtue, and dismisses it barren and 
 void of all spiritual fruit, so that it makes it 
 not only lose the rewards of huge labours, but 
 also makes it incur heavier punishments. All 
 lust and shifty wanderings of heart are a sort 
 of food for the soul, nourishing it on harmful 
 meats, but leaving it afterwards without share 
 of the heavenly bread and of really solid food. 
 If then, with all the powers we have, we ab- 
 stain from these in a most holy fast, our obser- 
 vance of the bodily fast will be both useful 
 and profitable. For labour of the flesh, when 
 joined with contrition of the spirit, will pro- 
 duce a sacrifice that is most acceptable to 
 God, and a worthy shrine of holiness in the 
 pure and undefiled inmost chambers of the 
 heart. But if, while fasting as far as the body 
 is concerned, we are entangled in the most 
 dangerous vices of the soul, our humiliation 
 of the flesh will do us no good whatever, while 
 the most precious part of us is defiled: since 
 we go wrong through that substance by virtue 
 of which we are made a shrine of the Holy 
 Ghost. For it is not so much the corruptible 
 flesh as the clean heart, which is made a 
 shrine for God, and a temple of the Holy 
 Ghost. We ought therefore, whenever the 
 outward man fasts, to restrain the inner man 
 
242 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 as well from food which is bad for him: that 
 inner man, namely, which the blessed Apostle 
 above all urges us to present pure before God, 
 that it may be found worthy to receive Christ 
 as a guest within, saying "that in the inner 
 man Christ may dwell in your hearts through 
 faith." 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 That we should for this reason practise bodily abstinence that 
 we may by it attain to a spiritual fast. 
 
 And so we know that we ought therefore to 
 bestow attention on bodily abstinence, that we 
 may by this fasting attain to purity of heart. 
 Otherwise our labours will be spent in vain, if 
 we endure this without weariness, in contem- 
 plating the end, but are unable to reach the 
 end for which we have endured such trials; 
 and it would have been better to have ab- 
 stained from the forbidden foods of the soul, 
 than to have fasted with the body from things 
 indifferent and harmless, for in the case of 
 these latter there is a simple and harmless 
 reception of a creature of God, which in itself 
 has nothing wrong about it: but in the case 
 of the former there is at the very first a danger- 
 ous tendency to devour the brethren; of which 
 it is said, " Do not love backbiting lest thou 
 be rooted out." 2 And concerning anger and 
 jealousy the blessed Job says : " For anger 
 slayeth a fool, and envy killeth a child." 3 And 
 at the same time it should be noticed that he 
 who is angered is set down as a fool; and 
 he who is jealous, as a child. For the former 
 is not undeservedly considered a fool, since of 
 his own accord he brings death upon himself, 
 being goaded by the stings of anger; and the 
 latter, while he is envious, proves that he is a 
 child and a minor, for while he envies another 
 he shows that the one at whose prosperity he 
 is vexed, is greater than he. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 What should be the character of the monk's food. 
 
 We should then choose for our food, not 
 only that which moderates the heat of burn- 
 ing lust, and avoids kindling it; but what is 
 easily got ready, and what is recommended 
 by its cheapness, and is suitable to the life of 
 the brethren and their common use. For the 
 nature of gluttony is threefold: first, there is 
 that which forces us to anticipate the proper 
 
 1 Eph. iii. 16, 17. a Prov. xx. 13. (LXX.). 3 Job v. 2. 
 
 hour for a meal, next that which delights in 
 stuffing the stomach, and gorging all kinds of 
 food ; thirdly, that which takes pleasure in more 
 refined and delicate feasting. And so against 
 it a monk should observe a threefold watch : 
 first, he should wait till the proper time for 
 breaking the fast; secondly, he should not 
 give way to gorging; thirdly, he should be con- 
 tented with any of the commoner sorts of food. 
 For anything that is taken over and above 
 what is customary and the common use of all, 
 is branded by the ancient tradition of the 
 fathers as defiled with the sin of vanity and 
 glorying and ostentation. Nor of those whom 
 we have seen to be deservedly eminent for 
 learning and discretion, or whom the grace of 
 Christ has singled out as shining lights for 
 every one to imitate, have we known any who 
 have abstained from eating bread which is 
 accounted cheap and easily to be obtained 
 among them ; nor have we seen that any one 
 who has rejected this rule and given up the use 
 of bread and taken to a diet of beans or herbs 
 or fruits, has been reckoned among the most 
 esteemed, or even acquired the grace of know- 
 ledge and discretion. For not only do they 
 lay it down that a monk ought not to ask for 
 foods which are not customary for others, lest 
 his mode of life should be exposed publicly 
 to all and rendered vain and idle and so be 
 destroyed by the disease of vanity; but they 
 insist that the common chastening disci- 
 pline of fasts ought not lightly to be disclosed 
 to any one, but as far as possible concealed 
 and kept secret. But when any of the breth- 
 ren arrive they rule that we ought to show the 
 virtues of kindness and charity instead of 
 observing a severe abstinence and our strict 
 daily rule : nor should we consider what our 
 own wishes and profit or the ardour of our 
 desires may require, but set before us and 
 gladly fulfil whatever the refreshment of the 
 guest, or his weakness may demand from us. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 How in Egypt we saw that the daily fast was broken without 
 scruple on our arrival. 
 
 When we had come from the region of Syria 
 and had sought the province of Egypt, in Our 
 desire to learn the rules of the Elders, we were 
 astonished at the alacrity of heart with which 
 we were there received so that no rule forbid- 
 ding refreshment till the appointed hour of 
 the fast was over was observed, such as we 
 had been brought up to observe in the monas- 
 teries of Palestine; but except in the case of 
 the regular days, Wednesdays and Fridays, 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 243 
 
 wherever we went the daily fast 1 was broken : 2 
 and when we asked why the daily fast was 
 thus ignored by them without scruple one of 
 the elders replied: "The opportunity for fast- 
 ing is always with me. But as I am going 
 to conduct you on your way, I cannot always 
 keep you with me. And a fast, although it 
 is useful and advisable, is yet a free-will offer- 
 ing. But the exigencies of a command require 
 the fulfilment of a work of charity. And so 
 receiving Christ in you I ought to refresh Him : 
 but when I have sent you on your way I shall 
 be able to balance the hospitality offered for 
 His sake by a stricter fast on my own account. 
 For ' the children of the bridegroom cannot 
 fast while the bridegroom is with them : ' 3 but 
 when he has departed, then they will rightly 
 fast." 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Of the abstinence of one old man who took food six times so 
 sparingly that he was still hungry. 
 
 When one of the elders was pressing me to 
 eat a little more as I was taking refreshment, 
 and I said that I could not, he replied: "I 
 have already laid my table six times for differ- 
 ent brethren who had arrived, and, pressing 
 each of them, I partook of food with him, and 
 am still hungry, and do you, who now partake 
 of refreshment for the first time, say that you 
 cannot eat any more ? " 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Of another old man, who never partook of food alone in his cell. 
 
 We have seen another who lived alone, who 
 declared that he had never enjoyed food by 
 himself alone, but that even if for five days 
 running none of the brethren came to his cell 
 he constantly put off taking food until on 
 Saturday or Sunday he went to church for ser- 
 vice and found some stranger whom he brought 
 
 1 Statio. 
 
 2 The allusion is here to the sparing diet and voluntary fasts of 
 the monks, among whom but one meal a day was usual (see the note 
 on III. xiii.) ; and though this was ordinarily taken at midday, yet 
 many of the more celebrated anchorites never broke their fast till 
 the evening; e.g. S. Antony is said never to have eaten till sunset 
 (Vita Anton.), and S. Jerome gives a similar account of Hilarion (Vita 
 Hil. § 4), while other instances of voluntary fasts are given by Cas- 
 sian in the following chapters, xxv.-xxvii. The " station " days, how- 
 ever, viz., Wednesday and Friday, being of ecclesiastical authority, 
 were strictly observed as a matter of rule, but these other voluntary 
 fasts at other times were to be freely broken through on account of 
 the arrival of visitors. See the Conferences II. xxvi., XXI. xiv., 
 XXIV. xxi., andcf. Rufinus, History of the Monks 1 1, vii., Palladius, 
 the Lausiac History, c. lii. So the Rule of S. Benedict (c. liii.) 
 orders that on the arrival of visitors the Superior is to sit at table 
 with them and break his fast, unless it be a special fast day which 
 may not be broken ; but the brethren are to observe the regular fasts. 
 
 3 S. Matt. ix. 15. The Latin has sponsus in each clause. 
 
 home at once to his cell, and together with 
 him partook of refreshment for the body not 
 so much by reason of his own needs, as for 
 the sake of kindness and on his brother's 
 account. And so as they know that the daily 
 fast is broken without scruple on the arrival 
 of brethren, when they leave, they compen- 
 sate for the refreshment which has been en- 
 joyed on their account by a greater abstinence, 
 and sternly make up for the reception of even 
 a very little food by a severer chastisement 
 not only as regards bread, but also by lessen- 
 ing their usual amount of sleep. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIL 
 
 What the two Abbots Pffisius and John said of the fruits of 
 their zeal. 
 
 When the aged John, who was superior of 
 a large monastery and of a quantity of breth- 
 ren, had come to visit the aged Paesius, who 
 was living in a vast desert, and had been asked 
 of him as of a very old friend, what he had 
 done in all the forty years in which he had 
 been separated from him and had scarcely 
 ever been disturbed in his solitude by the 
 brethren : " Never," said he, " has the sun seen 
 me eating," "nor me angry," said the other. 4 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 The lesson and example which Abbot John when dying left to 
 his disciples. 
 
 When the same old man, as one who was 
 readily going to depart to his own, was lying 
 at his last gasp, and the brethren were stand- 
 ing round, they implored and intreated that 
 he would leave them, as a sort of legacy, some 
 special charge by which they could attain to 
 the height of perfection, the more easily from 
 the brevity of the charge : he sighed and said, 
 " I never did my own will, nor taught any one 
 what I had not first done myself." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Of Abbot Machetes, who never slept during the spiritual con- 
 ferences, but always went to sleep during earthly tales. 
 
 We knew an old man, Machetes by name, 
 who lived at a distance from the crowds of the 
 brethren, and obtained by his daily prayers 
 
 4 There is a Pajsius mentioned by Palladius in the Lausiac 
 History, but it is not clear whether he is the same man whom Cas- 
 sian mentions. John is a different person from the one already 
 mentioned in Book IV. xxiii. He is mentioned again below in xl., 
 and the Nineteenth Conference is assigned to him. 
 
244 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 this grace from the Lord, that as often as 
 a spiritual conference was held, whether by 
 day or by night, he never was at all overcome 
 by sleep: but if any one tried to introduce a 
 word of detraction, or idle talk, he dropped 
 off to sleep at once as if the poison of slander 
 could not possibly penetrate to pollute his 
 ears. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 A saying of the same old man about not judging any one. 
 
 The same old man, when he was teaching 
 us that no one ought to judge another, re- 
 marked that there were three points on which 
 he had charged and rebuked the brethren, viz. : 
 because some allowed their uvula to be cut 
 off, or kept a cloak in their cell, or blessed oil 
 and gave it to those dwelling in the world who 
 asked for it: and he said that he had done all 
 these things himself. For having contracted 
 some malady of the uvula, I wasted away, said 
 he, for so long, through its weakness, that at 
 last I was driven by stress of the pain, and by 
 the persuasion of all the elders, to allow it to 
 be cut off. And I was forced too by reason of 
 this' illness, to keep a cloak. And I was also 
 compelled to bless oil and give it to those who 
 prayed for it — a thing which I execrated 
 above everything, since that I thought that it 
 proceeded from great presumption of heart — 
 when suddenly many who were living in the 
 world surrounded me, so that I could not 
 possibly escape them in any other way, had 
 they not extorted from me with no small vio- 
 lence, and entreaties that I would lay my hand 
 on a vessel offered by them, and sign it with 
 the sign of the cross: and so believing that 
 they had secured blessed oil, at last they let 
 me go. And by these things I plainly discov- 
 ered that a monk was in the same case and 
 entangled in the same faults for which he had 
 ventured to judge others. Each one therefore 
 ought only to judge himself, and to be on the 
 watch, with care and circumspection in all 
 things not to judge the life and conduct of 
 others in accordance with the Apostle's charge, 
 "But thou, why dost thou judge thy brother? 
 to his own master he standeth or falleth." 
 And this: "Judge not, that ye be not judged. 
 For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall 
 be judged." 1 For besides the reason of which 
 we have spoken, it is for this cause also danger- 
 ous to judge concerning others because in those 
 matters in which we are offended — as we do 
 not know the need or the reason for which 
 they are really acting either rightly in the 
 
 1 Rom. xiv. 10, 4; S. Matt. vii. 1, 2. 
 
 sight of God, or at any rate in a pardonable 
 manner — we are found to have judged them 
 rashly and in this commit no light sin, by 
 forming an opinion of our brethren different 
 from what we ought. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 The same old man's rebuke when he saw how the brethren 
 went to sleep during the spiritual conferences, and woke up 
 when some idle story was told. 
 
 The same old man made clear by this 
 proof that it was the devil "who encouraged 
 idle tales, and showed himself always as the 
 enemy of spiritual conferences. For when 
 he was discoursing to some of the brethren on 
 necessary matters and spiritual things, and 
 saw that they were weighed down with a sound 
 slumber, and could not drive away the weight 
 of sleep from their eyes, he suddenly intro- 
 duced an idle tale. And when he saw that 
 at once they woke up, delighted with it, and 
 pricked up their ears, he groaned and said, 
 "Up till now we were speaking of celestial 
 things and all your eyes were * overpowered 
 with a sound slumber; but as soon as an idle 
 tale was introduced, we all woke up and shook 
 off the drowsiness of sleep which had over- 
 come us. And from this therefore consider 
 who is the enemy of that spiritual conference, 
 and who has shown himself the suggester of 
 that useless and carnal talk. For it is most 
 evidently shown that it is he who, rejoicing in 
 evil, never ceases to encourage the latter and 
 to oppose the former." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 Of the letters which were burnt without being read. 
 
 Nor do I think it less needful to relate this 
 act of a brother who was intent on purity of 
 heart, and extremely anxious with regard to 
 the contemplation of things divine. When 
 after an interval of fifteen years a large number 
 of letters had been brought to him from his 
 father and mother and many friends in the 
 province of Pontus, he received the huge packet 
 of letters, and turning over the matter in his 
 own mind for some time, "What thoughts," 
 said he, "will the reading of these suggest to 
 me, which will incite me either to senseless 
 joy or to useless sadness ! for how many days 
 will they draw off the attention of my heart 
 from the contemplation I have set before me, 
 by the recollection of those who wrote them! 
 How long will it take for the disturbance of 
 mind thus created to be calmed, and what an 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 245 
 
 effort will it cost for that former state of 
 peacefulness to be restored, if the mind is 
 once moved by the sympathy of the letters, 
 and by recalling the words and looks of those 
 whom it has left for so long begins once more 
 in thought and spirit to revisit them, to dwell 
 among them and to be with them. And it will 
 be of no use to have forsaken them in the body, 
 if one begins to look on them with the heart, 
 and readmits and revives that memory which 
 on renouncing this world every one gave up, 
 as if he were dead. Turning this over in his 
 mind, he determined not only not to read a 
 single letter, but not even to open the packet, 
 for fear lest, at the sight of the names of the 
 writers, or on recalling their appearance, the 
 purpose of his spirit might give way. And so 
 he threw it into the fire to be burnt, all tied 
 up just as he had received it, crying, "Away, 
 O ye thoughts of my home, be ye burnt up, 
 and try no further to recall me to those things 
 from which I have fled." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 Of the solution of a question which Abbot Theodore obtained 
 by prayer. 
 
 We knew also Abbot Theodore, 1 a man 
 gifted with the utmost holiness and with per- 
 fect knowledge not only in practical life, but 
 also in understanding the Scriptures, which 
 he had not acquired so much by study and 
 reading, or worldly education, as by purity of 
 heart alone : since he could with difficulty un- 
 derstand and speak but a very few words of 
 the Greek language. This man when he was 
 seeking an explanation of some most diffi- 
 cult question, continued without ceasing for 
 seven days and nights in prayer until he dis- 
 covered by a revelation from the Lord the 
 solution of the question propounded. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Of the saying of the same old man, through which he taught 
 by what efforts a monk can acquire a knowledge of the 
 Scriptures. 
 
 This man therefore, when some of the 
 brethren were wondering at the splendid light 
 of his knowledge and were asking of him some 
 meanings of Scripture, said that a monk who 
 wanted to acquire a knowledge of the Scrip- 
 tures ought not to spend his labour on the 
 
 1 Nothing further is known for certain of this Theodore. He 
 may be the author of the Vlth of the Conferences ; but must be 
 carefully distinguished from his more celebrated namesake, the 
 friend of Pachomius, and third Abbot of Taberma, who died before 
 Cassian's visit to Egypt. 
 
 works of commentators, but rather to keep all 
 the efforts of his mind and intentions of his 
 heart set on purifying himself from carnal 
 vices: for when these are driven out, at once 
 the eyes of the heart, as if the veil of the pas- 
 sions were removed, will begin as it were 
 naturally to gaze on the mysteries 2 of Scrip- 
 ture: since they were not declared to us by the 
 grace of the Holy Spirit in order that they 
 should remain unknown and obscure ; but they 
 are rendered obscure by our fault, as the veil 
 of our sins covers the eyes of the heart, and 
 when these are restored to their natural state 
 of health, the mere reading of Holy Scripture 
 is by itself amply sufficient for beholding 
 the true knowledge, nor do they need the aid 
 of commentators, just as these eyes of flesh 
 need no man's teaching how to see, provided 
 that they are free from dimness or the dark- 
 ness of blindness. For this reason there have 
 arisen so great differences and mistakes among 
 commentators because most of them, paying 
 no sort of attention towards purifying the 
 mind, rush into the work of interpreting the 
 Scriptures, and in proportion to the density 
 or impurity of their heart form opinions that 
 are at variance with and contrary to each 
 other's and to the faith, and so are unable to 
 take in the light of truth. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 A rebuke of the same old man, when he had come to my cell 
 in the middle of the night. 
 
 The same Theodore came unexpectedly to 
 my cell in the dead of night, with paternal 
 inquisitiveness seeking what I — an unformed 
 anchorite as I was — might be doing by my- 
 self ; and when he had found me there already, 
 as I had finished my vesper office, beginning 
 to refresh my wearied body, and lying down 
 on a mat, he sighed from the bottom of his 
 heart, and calling me byname, said, "Plow 
 many, O John, are at this hour communing 
 with God, and embracing Him, and detaining 
 Him with them, while you are deprived of so 
 great light, enfeebled as you are with lazy- 
 sleep ! " 
 
 And since the virtues of the fathers and the 
 grace given to them have tempted us to turn 
 aside to a story like this, I think it well to 
 record in this volume a noteworthy deed of 
 charity, which we experienced from the kind- 
 ness of that most excellent man Archebius, 
 that the purity of continence grafted on to a 
 work of charity may more readily shine forth, 
 being embellished with a pleasing variety. 
 
 2 Sacramento.. 
 
246 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 For the duty of fasting is then rendered accept- 
 able to God, when it is made perfect by the 
 fruits of charity. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 A description of the desert in Diolcos, where the anchorites live. 
 
 And so when we had come, while still begin- 
 ners, from the monasteries of Palestine, to a 
 city of Egypt called Diolcos, * and were contem- 
 plating a large number of monks bound by the 
 discipline of the Ccenobium, and trained in 
 that excellent system of monasteries, which is 
 also the earliest, we were also eager to see 
 with all wisdom of heart another system as 
 well which is still better, viz. : that of the an- 
 chorites, as we were incited thereto by the 
 praises of it by everybody. For these men, 
 having first lived for a very long time in Cceno- 
 bia, and having diligently learnt all the rules 
 of patience and discretion, and acquired the 
 virtues of humility and renunciation, and hav- 
 ing perfectly overcome all their faults, in order 
 to engage in most fearful conflicts with devils, 
 penetrate the deepest recesses of the desert. 
 Finding then that men of this sort were living 
 near the river Nile in a place which is sur- 
 rounded on one side by the same river, on the 
 other by the expanse of the sea, and forms an 
 island, habitable by none but monks seeking 
 such recesses, since the saltness of the soil and 
 dryness of the sand make it unfit for any culti- 
 vation — to these men, I say, we eagerly has- 
 tened, and were beyond measure astonished at 
 their labours which they endure in the contem- 
 plation of the virtues and their love of solitude. 
 For they are hampered by such a scarcity even 
 of water that the care and exactness with which 
 they portion it out is such as no miser would 
 bestow in preserving and hoarding the most 
 precious kind of wine. For they carry it three 
 miles or even further from the bed of the 
 above-mentioned river, for all necessary pur- 
 poses; and the distance, great as it is, with 
 sandy mountains in between, is doubled by 
 the very great difficulty of the task. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 Of the cells which Abbot Archebius gave up to us with their 
 furniture. 
 
 Having then seen this, as we were inflamed 
 with the desire of imitating them, the afore- 
 said Archebius, the most famous among them 
 
 1 Diolcos is mentioned again in the Conferences XVIII. i. Sozo- 
 men (VI. xxix.) speaks of two celebrated monasteries near there 
 presided over by Piamun and John. 
 
 for the grace of kindness, drew us into his cell, 
 and having discovered our desire, pretended 
 that he wanted to leave the place, and to offer 
 his cell to us, as if he were going away, de- 
 claring that he would have done it, even if 
 we had not come. And we, inflamed with the 
 desire of remaining there, and putting unhesi- 
 tating faith in the assertions of so great a man, 
 willingly agreed to this, and took over his cell 
 with all its furniture and belongings. And so 
 having succeeded in his pious fraud, he left 
 the place for a few days in which to procure 
 the means for constructing a cell, and after 
 this returned, and with the utmost labour built 
 another cell for himself. And after some little 
 time, when some other brethren came inflamed 
 with the same desire to stay there, he deceived 
 them by a similar charitable falsehood, and 
 gave this one up with everything pertaining to 
 it. But he, unweariedly persevering in his act 
 of charity, built for himself a third cell to 
 dwell in. 2 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 The same Archebius paid a debt of his mother's by the labour 
 of his own hands. 
 
 It seems to me worth while to hand down 
 another charitable act of the same man, that 
 the monks of our land may be taught by the 
 example of one and the same man to maintain 
 not only a rigorous continence, but also the 
 most unfeigned affection of love. For he, 
 sprung from no ignoble family, while yet a 
 child, scorning the love of this world and of 
 his kinsfolk, fled to the monastery which is 
 nearly four miles distant from the aforemen- 
 tioned town, where he so passed all his life, 
 that never once throughout the whole of fifty 
 years did he enter or see the village from which 
 he had come, nor even look upon the face of 
 any woman, not even his own mother. In the 
 mean while his father was overtaken by death, 
 and left a debt of a hundred solidi. And 
 though he himself was entirely free from all 
 annoyances, since he had been disinherited 
 of all his father's property, yet he found that 
 his mother was excessively annoyed by the 
 creditors. Then he through consideration of 
 duty somewhat moderated that gospel severity 
 through which formerly, while his parents 
 were prosperous, he did not recognize that he 
 possessed a father or mother on earth; and 
 acknowledged that he had a mother, and hast- 
 ened to relieve her in her distress, without 
 relaxing anything of the austerity he had set 
 
 1 Somewhat similar stories are told of others by Palladius, 
 (Lausiac History, cc.ii. i,lxx.); and Rufinus, History of the Monks, 
 I. xxiii. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 247 
 
 himself. For remaining within the cloister of 
 the monastery he asked that the task of his 
 usual work might be trebled. And there for 
 a whole year toiling night and day alike he 
 paid to the creditors the due measure of the 
 debt secured by his toil and labour, and 
 relieved his mother from all annoyance and 
 anxiety; ridding her of the burden of the debt 
 in such a way as not to suffer aught of the 
 severity he had set himself to be diminished, 
 on plea of duteous necessity. Thus did he 
 preserve his wonted austerities, without ever 
 denying to his mother's heart the work which 
 duty demanded, as, though he had formerly 
 disregarded her for the love of Christ, he now 
 acknowledged her again out of consideration 
 of duty. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 Of the device of a certain old man by which some work was 
 found for Abbot Simeon when he had nothing; to do. 
 
 When a brother who was very dear to us, 
 Simeon by name, a man utterly ignorant of 
 Greek, had come from the region of Italy, one 
 of the elders, anxious to show to him, as he 
 was a stranger, a work of charity, with some 
 pretence of the benefit being mutual, asked him 
 why he sat doing nothing in his cell, guessing 
 from this that he would not be able to stay 
 much longer in it both because of the roving 
 thoughts which idleness produces and because 
 of his want of the necessities of life; well 
 knowing that no one can endure the assaults 
 made in solitude, but one who is contented to 
 procure food for himself by the labour of his 
 hands. And when the other replied that he 
 could not do or manage any of the things 
 which were usually done by the brethren there, 
 except write a good hand, if any one in Egypt 
 wanted a Latin book for his use, then he at 
 length seized the opportunity to secure the 
 long wished for work of charity, under colour 
 of its being a mutual benefit; and said, "From 
 God this opportunity comes, for I was just 
 looking for some one to write out for me the 
 Epistles 1 in Latin; for I have a brother who 
 is bound in the chains of military service, and 
 is a good Latin scholar, to whom I want to 
 send something from Scripture for him to read 
 for his edification." And so when Simeon 
 gratefully took this as an opportunity offered 
 to him by God, the old man also gladly seized 
 the pretext, under colour of which he could 
 freely carry out his work of charity, and at 
 once not only brought him as a matter of busi- 
 ness everything he could want for a whole 
 
 1 Apostolus. 
 
 year, but also conveyed to him parchment and 
 everything requisite for writing, and received 
 afterwards the manuscript, which was not of 
 the slightest use (since in those parts they 
 were all utterly ignorant of this language), 
 and did no good to anybody except that which 
 resulted from this device and large outlay, as 
 the one, without shame or confusion, procured 
 his necessary food and sustenance by the re- 
 ward of his work and labour, and the other car- 
 ried out his kindness and bounty as it were by 
 the compulsion of a debt: securing for himself 
 a more abundant reward proportioned to the 
 zeal with which he procured for his foreign 
 brother not only his necessary food, but als 
 materials for writing, and an opportunity of 
 work. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 Of the boys who when bringing to a sick man some figs, died 
 in the desert from hunger, without having tasted them. 
 
 But since in the section in which we pro- 
 posed to say something about the strictness of 
 fasting and abstinence, kindly acts and deeds 
 of charity seem to have been intermingled, 
 again returning to our design we will insert 
 in this little book a noteworthy deed of some 
 who were boys in years though not in their 
 feelings. For when, to their great surprise, 
 some one had brought to Abbot John, the stew- 
 ard in the desert of Scete, some figs from Libya 
 Mareotis, 2 as being a thing never before seen 
 in those districts, — (John) who had the man- 
 agement of the church in the days of the 
 blessed Presbyter Paphnutius, 3 by whom it 
 had been intrusted to him, at once sent them 
 by the hands of two lads to an old man who 
 was laid up in ill health in the further parts 
 of the desert, and who lived about eighteen 
 miles from the church. And when they had 
 I received the fruit, and set off for the cell of 
 the above-mentioned old man, they lost the 
 I right path altogether — a thing which there 
 easily happens even to elders — as a thick fog 
 suddenly came on. And when all day and 
 night they had wandered about the trackless 
 waste of the desert, and could not possibly find 
 the sick man's cell, worn out at last both by 
 weariness from their journey, and from hunger 
 and thirst, they bent their knees and gave up 
 their souls to God in the very act of prayer. 
 And afterwards, when they had been for a 
 
 2 The Mareotic nome is the district round Lake Mareotis, a lake 
 in the north of the delta bordering upon the Libyan desert (the 
 modern Birket el Marioiit), and running parallel to the Mediter- 
 ranean, from which it is separated by a long and narrow ridge of 
 sand. 
 
 3 On Paphnutius see the note on the Conference III. i. 
 
248 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 long while sought for by the marks of their 
 footsteps which in those sanely regions are 
 impressed as if on snow, until a thin coating 
 of sand blown about even by a slight breeze 
 covers them up again, it was found that they 
 had preserved the figs untouched, just as they 
 had received them; choosing rather to give up 
 their lives, than their fidelity to their charge, 
 and to lose their life on earth than to violate 
 the commands of their senior. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 The saying of Abbot Macarius of the behaviour of a monk as 
 one who was to live for a long while, and as one who was 
 daily at the point of death. 
 
 There is still one valuable charge of the 
 blessed Macarius to be brought forward by us, 
 so that a saying of so great a man may close 
 
 this book of fasts and abstinence. He said 
 then that a monk ought to bestow attention on 
 his fasts, just as if he were going to remain in 
 the flesh for a hundred years ; and to curb the 
 motions of the soul, and to forget injuries, and 
 to loathe sadness, and despise sorrows and 
 losses, as if he were daily at the point of 
 death. For in the former case discretion is 
 useful and proper as it causes a monk always 
 to walk with well-balanced care, and does not 
 suffer him by reason of a weakened body to 
 fall from the heights over most dangerous pre- 
 cipices: in the other high-mindedness is most 
 valuable as it will enable him not only to de- 
 spise the seeming prosperity of this present 
 world, but also not to be crushed by adversity 
 and sorrow, and to despise them as small and 
 paltry matters, since he has the gaze of his 
 mind continually fixed there, whither daily at 
 each moment he believes that he is soon to be 
 summoned. 1 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 ON THE SPIRIT OF FORNICATION. 
 We have thought best to omit altogether the translation of this book. 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 OF THE SPIRIT OF COVETOUSNESS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 How our warfare with covetousness is a foreign one, and how 
 this fault is not a natural one in man, as the other faults are. 
 
 Our third- conflict is against covetousness 
 which we can describe as the love of money; 
 a foreign warfare, and one outside of our 
 nature, and in the case of a monk originat- 
 ing only from the state of a corrupt and slug- 
 gish mind, and often from the beginning of 
 his renunciation being unsatisfactory, and his 
 love towards God being lukewarm at its 
 foundation. For the rest of the incitements 
 to sin planted in human nature seem to have 
 their commencement as it were congenital with 
 us, and somehow being deeply rooted in our 
 flesh, and almost coeval with our birth, anti- 
 cipate our powers of discerning good and 
 
 evil, and although in very early days they at- 
 tack a man, yet they are overcome with a long 
 struggle. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 How dangerous is the disease of covetousness. 
 
 But this disease coming upon us at a later 
 period, and approaching the soul from with- 
 
 1 Socrates (H.E. Book IV. c. xxiii.) gives an account of two 
 monks of the name of Macarius, one of whom was from Upper 
 Egypt, and the other from Alexandria. Compare also Rufinus, 
 History of the Monks, cc. xxviii., xxix. It is not certain to which 
 of them Cassian's stories refer, here and in the Conferences V. xii., 
 VII. xxvii., XXIV. xiii. The story told in Conference XV. iii. 
 refers to the " Egyptian" Macarius (cf. Sozomen H. E. III. xiy., 
 where the miracle is expressly assigned to him) : that in XIV. iv. 
 evidently belongs to the "Alexandrian" Macarius. The two are 
 mentioned together in Conference XIX. ix., and by various other 
 I writers. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 249 
 
 out, as it can be the more easily guarded 
 against and resisted, so, if it is disregarded 
 and once allowed to gain an entrance into the 
 heart, is the more dangerous to everyone, and 
 with the greater difficulty expelled. For it 
 becomes ''a root of all evils," x and gives rise 
 to a multiplicity of incitements to sin. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 What is the usefulness of those vices which are natural to us. 
 
 For example, do not we see those natural 
 impulses of the flesh not only in boys in whom 
 innocence still anticipates the discernment of 
 good and evil, but even in little children and 
 infants, who although they have not even the 
 slightest approach to lust within them, yet 
 show that the impulses of the flesh exist in 
 them and are naturally excited ? Do not we 
 also see that the deadly pricks of anger already 
 exist in full vigour likewise in little children? 
 and before they have learnt the virtue of 
 patience, we see that they are disturbed by 
 wrongs, and feel affronts offered to them even 
 by way of a joke; and sometimes, although 
 strength is lacking to them, the desire to 
 avenge themselves is not wanting, when anger 
 excites them. Nor do I say this to lay the 
 blame on their natural state, but to point out 
 that of these impulses which proceed from us, 
 some are implanted in us for a useful purpose, 
 while some are introduced from without, 
 through the fault of carelessness and the desire 
 of an evil will. For these carnal impulses, 
 of which we spoke above, were with a useful 
 purpose implanted in our bodies by the provi- 
 dence of the Creator, viz. : for perpetuating 
 the race, and raising up children for posterity : 
 and not for committing adulteries and de- 
 baucheries, which the authority of the law 
 also condemns. The pricks of anger too, do 
 we not see that they have been most wisely 
 given to us, that being enraged at our sins 
 and mistakes, we may apply ourselves the 
 rather to virtues and spiritual exercises, show- 
 ing forth all love towards God, and patience 
 towards our brethren? We know too how 
 great is the use of sorrow, which is reckoned 
 among the other vices, when it is turned to an 
 opposite use. For on the one hand, when it 
 is in accordance with the fear of God it is 
 most needful, and on the other, when it is in 
 accordance with the world, most pernicious; 
 as the Apostle teaches us when he says that 
 "the sorrow which is according to God work- 
 eth repentance that is steadfast unto salvation, 
 but the sorrow of the world worketh death." 2 
 
 1 1 Tim. vi. 10. 
 
 2 Cor. vii. 10. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 That we can say that there exist in us some natural faults, 
 without wronging the Creator. 
 
 If then we say that these impulses were im- 
 planted in us by the Creator, He will not on 
 that account seem blameworthy, if we choose 
 wrongly to abuse them, and to pervert them 
 to harmful purposes, and are ready to be 
 made sorry by means of the useless Cains of 
 this world, and not by means of showing peni- 
 tence and the correction of our faults : or at 
 least if we are angry not with ourselves (which 
 would be profitable) but with our brethren in 
 defiance of God's command. For in the case 
 of iron, which is given us for good and useful 
 purposes, if any one should pervert it for mur- 
 dering the innocent, one would not therefore 
 blame the maker of the metal because man had 
 used to injure others that which he had pro- 
 vided for good and useful purposes of living 
 happily. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Of the faults which are contracted through our own fault, with- 
 out natural impulses. 
 
 But we affirm that some faults grow up 
 without any natural occasion giving birth to 
 them, but simply from the free choice of a 
 corrupt and evil will, as envy and this very 
 sin of covetousness ; which are caught (so to 
 speak) from without, having no origination in 
 us from natural instincts. But these, in pro- 
 portion as they are easily guarded against 
 and readily avoided, just so do they make 
 wretched the mind that they have got hold of 
 and seized, and hardly do they suffer it to get 
 at the remedies which would cure it: either be- 
 cause these who are wounded by persons whom 
 they might either have ignored, or avoided, 
 or easily overcome, do not deserve to be healed 
 by a speedy cure, or else because, having laid 
 the foundations badly, they are unworthy to 
 raise an edifice of virtue and reach the summit 
 of perfection. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 How difficult the evil of covetousness is to drive away when 
 once it has been admitted. 
 
 Wherefore let not this evil seem of no 
 account or unimportant to anybody : for as it 
 can easily be avoided, so if it has once got 
 hold of any one, it scarcely suffers him to get 
 at the remedies for curing: it. For it is a 
 
2^0 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 regular nest of sins, and a "root of all kinds 
 of evil," and becomes a hopeless incitement 
 to wickedness, as the Apostle says, " Covet- 
 ousness," i.e. the love of money, "is a root of 
 all kinds of evil." 1 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Of the source from which covetousness springs, and of the evils 
 of which it is itself the mother. 
 
 When then this vice has got hold of the 
 slack and lukewarm soul of some monk, it 
 begins by tempting him in regard of a small 
 sum of money, giving him excellent and 
 almost reasonable excuses why he ought to 
 retain some money for himself. For he com- 
 plains that what is provided in the monastery 
 is not sufficient, and can scarcely be endured 
 by a sound and sturdy body. What is he to 
 do if ill health comes on, and he has no special 
 store of his own to support him in his weak- 
 ness ? He says that the allowance of the mon- 
 astery is but meagre, and that there is the 
 greatest carelessness about the sick: and if 
 he has not something of his own so that he 
 can look after the wants of his body, he will 
 perish miserably. The dress which is allowed 
 him is insufficient, unless he has provided 
 something with which to procure another. 
 Lastly, he says that he cannot possibly remain 
 for long in the same place and monastery, 
 and that unless he has secured the money for 
 his journey, and the cost of his removal over 
 the sea, he cannot move when he wants to, 
 and, detained by the compulsion of want, will 
 henceforth drag out a wretched and wearisome 
 existence without making the slightest ad- 
 vance : that he cannot without indignity be 
 supported by another's substance, as a pauper 
 and one in want. And so when he has bam- 
 boozled himself with such thoughts as these, 
 he racks his brains to think how he can acquire 
 at least one penny. Then he anxiously 
 searches for some special work which he can 
 do without the Abbot knowing anything about 
 it. And selling it secretly, and so securing 
 the coveted coin, he torments himself worse 
 and worse in thinking how he can double it: 
 puzzled as to where to deposit it, or to whom 
 to intrust it. Then he is oppressed with a 
 still weightier care as to what to buy with it, 
 or by what transaction he can double it. And 
 when this has turned out as he wished, a still 
 more greedy craving for gold springs up, and is 
 more and more keenly excited, as his store of 
 money grows larger and larger. For with the 
 
 1 i Tim. vi. 10. 
 
 increase of wealth the mania of covetousness 
 increases. Then next he has forebodings of a 
 long life, and an enfeebled old age, and in- 
 firmities of all sorts, and long drawn out, 
 which will be insupportable in old age, unless 
 a large store of money has been laid by in 
 youth. And so the wretched soul is agitated, 
 and held fast, as it were, in a serpent's toils, 
 while it endeavours to add to that heap which 
 it has unlawfully secured, by still more un- 
 lawful care, and itself gives birth to plagues 
 which inflame it more sorely, and being en- 
 tirely absorbed in the quest of gain, pays atten- 
 tion to nothing but how to get money with 
 which to fly' 2 as quickly as possible from the 
 discipline of the monastery, never keeping 
 faith where there is a gleam of hope of money 
 to be got. For this it shrinks not from the 
 crime of lying, perjury, and theft, of breaking 
 a promise, of giving way to injurious bursts 
 of passion. If the man has dropped away at 
 all from the hope of gain, he has no scruples 
 about transgressing the bounds of humility, 
 and through it all gold and the love of gain 
 become to him his god, as the belly does to 
 others. Wherefore the blessed Apostle, look- 
 ing out on the deadly poison of this pest, not 
 only says that it is a root of all kinds of evil, 
 but also calls it the worship of idols, saying 
 "And covetousness (which in Greek is called 
 cpdugyvfjlu) which is the worship of idols." 3 
 You see then to what a downfall this madness 
 step by step leads, so that by the voice of the 
 Apostle it is actually declared to be the wor- 
 ship of idols and false gods, because passing 
 over the image and likeness of God (which 
 one who serves God with devotion ought to pre- 
 serve undefiled in himself), it chooses to love 
 and care for images stamped on gold instead 
 of God. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 How covetousness is a hindrance to all virtues. 
 
 With such strides then in a downward direc- 
 tion he goes from bad to worse, and at last 
 cares not to retain I will not say the virtue but 
 even the shadow of humility, charity, and obe- 
 dience; and is displeased with everything, and 
 murmurs and groans over every work; and now 
 having cast off all reverence, like a bad-tem- 
 pered horse, dashes off headlong and unbridled : 
 and discontented with his daily food and 
 usual clothing, announces that he will not put 
 
 2 The same danger is strongly spoken of by S. Basil in the 
 "Monastic Constitutions " c. xxxiv., a passage which should be 
 compared with the one above. 
 
 3 Col. ill. 5. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 251 
 
 up with it any longer. He declares that God 
 is not only there, and that his salvation is not 
 confined to that place, where, if he does not 
 take himself off pretty quickly from it, he 
 deeply laments that he will soon die. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 How a monk who has money cannot stay in the monastery. 
 
 And so having money to provide for his 
 wanderings, with the assistance of which he 
 has fitted himself as it were with wings, and 
 now being quite ready for his move, he 
 answers impertinently to all commands, and 
 behaves himself like a stranger and a visitor, 
 and whatever he sees needing improvement, 
 he despises and treats with contempt. And 
 though he has a supply of money secretly 
 hidden, yet he complains that he has neither 
 shoes nor clothes, and is indignant that they 
 are given out to him so slowly. And if it 
 happens that through the management of the 
 superior some of these are given first to one 
 who is known to have nothing whatever, he is 
 still more inflamed with burning rage, and 
 thinks that he is despised as a stranger; nor 
 is he contented to turn his hand to any work, 
 but finds fault with everything which the needs 
 of the monastery require to be done. Then of 
 set purpose he looks out for opportunities 
 of being offended and angry, lest he might 
 seem to have gone forth from the discipline of 
 the monastery for a trivial reason. And not 
 content to take his departure by himself alone, 
 lest it should be thought that he has left as 
 it were from his own fault, he never stops 
 corrupting as many as he can by clandestine 
 conferences. But if the severity of the weather 
 interferes with his journey and travels, he re- 
 mains all the time in suspense and anxiety of 
 heart, and never stops sowing and exciting 
 discontent; as he thinks that he will only find 
 consolation for his departure and an excuse 
 for his fickleness in the bad character and 
 defects of the monastery. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Of tho toils which a deserter from a monastery must undergo 
 through covetousness, though he used formerly to murmur 
 at the very slightest tasks. 
 
 And so he is driven about, and more and 
 more inflamed with the love of his money, 
 which when it is acquired, never allows a 
 monk either to remain in a monastery or to 
 live under the discipline of a rule. And when 
 separating him like some wild beast from the 
 
 rest of the herd, it has made him through want 
 of companions an animal fit for prey, and 
 caused him to be easily eaten up, as he is 
 deprived of fellow lodgers, it forces him, who 
 once thought it beneath him to perform the 
 slight duties of the monastery, to labour with- 
 out stopping night and day, through hope of 
 gain; it suffers him to keep no services of 
 prayer, no system of fasting, no rule of vigils : 
 it does not allow him to fulfil the duties of 
 seemly intercession, if only he can satisfy the 
 madness of avarice, and supply his daily 
 wants; inflaming the more the fire of covet- 
 ousness, while believing that it will be ex- 
 tinguished by getting. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 That under pretence of keeping the purse women have to be 
 sought to dwell with them. 
 
 Hence many are led on over an abrupt pre- 
 cipice, and by an irrevocable fall, to death, 
 and not content to possess by themselves that 
 money which they either never had before, 
 or which by a bad beginning they kept back, 
 they seek for women to dwell with them, to 
 preserve what they have unjustifiably amassed 
 or retained. And they implicate themselves 
 in so many harmful and dangerous occupa- 
 tions, that they are cast down even to the 
 depths of hell, while they refuse to acquiesce 
 in that saying of the Apostle, that "having 
 food and clothing they should be content " 
 with that which the thrift of the monastery 
 supplied, but "wishing to become rich they 
 fall into temptation and the snare of the devil, 
 and many unprofitable and hurtful desires, 
 which drown men in destruction and perdi- 
 tion. For the love of money,'" i.e. covetous- 
 ness, " is a root of all kinds of evil, which 
 some coveting have erred from the faith, and 
 have entangled themselves in many sorrows." 1 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 An instance of a lukewarm monk caught in the snares of 
 covetousness. 
 
 I know of one, who thinks himself a monk, 
 and what is worse flatters himself on his per- 
 fection, who had been received into a mon- 
 astery, and when charged by his Abbot not to 
 turn his thoughts back to those things which 
 he had given up and renounced, but to free 
 himself from covetousness, the root of all 
 kinds of evil, and from earthly snares; and 
 
 1 1 Tim. vi. 8-10. 
 
252 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 when told that if he wished to be cleansed 
 from his former passions, by which he saw that 
 he was from time to time grievously oppressed, 
 he should cease from caring about those 
 things which even formerly were not his own, 
 entangled in the chains of which he certainly 
 could not make progress towards purifying 
 himself of his faults: with an angry expression 
 he did not hesitate to answer, " If you have 
 that with which you can support others, why 
 do you forbid me to have it as well ? " 1 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 What the elders relate to the juniors in the matter of 
 stripping off sins. 
 
 But let not this seem superfluous or objec- 
 tionable to any one. For unless the different 
 kinds of sins are first explained, and the origin 
 and causes of diseases, traced out, the proper 
 healing remedies cannot be applied to the sick, 
 nor can the preservation of perfect health 
 be secured by the strong. For both these 
 matters and many others besides these are 
 generally put forward for the instruction of 
 the younger brethren by the elders in their 
 conferences, as they have had experience 
 of numberless falls and the ruin of all sorts of 
 people. And often recognizing in ourselves 
 many of these things, when the elders ex- 
 plained and showed them, as men who were 
 themselves disquieted 2 by the same passions, 
 we were cured without any shame or confu- 
 sion on our part, since without saying anything 
 we learnt both the remedies and the causes of 
 the sins which beset us, which we have passed 
 over and said nothing about, not from fear of 
 the brethren, but lest our book should chance 
 to fall into the hands of some who have had 
 no instruction in this way of life, and might 
 disclose to inexperienced persons what ought 
 to be known only to those who are toiling and 
 striving to reach the heights of perfection. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Instances to show that the disease of covetousness is threefold. 
 
 And so this disease and unhealthy state is 
 threefold, and is condemned with equal abhor- 
 rence by all the fathers. One feature is this, 
 of which we described the taint above, which 
 by deceiving wretched folk persuades them to 
 hoard though they never had anything of their 
 own when they lived in the world. Another, 
 
 1 Cur prohibes (Petschenig). Gazaeus omits Cur. 
 
 1 Puharcntur (Petschenig). The text of Gazaeus \\a.s pulsaremur. 
 
 which forces men afterwards to resume and 
 once more desire those things which in the 
 early days of their renunciation of the world 
 they gave up. A third, which springing from 
 a faulty and hurtful beginning and making 
 a bad start, does not suffer those whom it has 
 once infected with this lukewarmness of mind 
 to strip themselves of all their worldly goods, 
 through fear of poverty and want of faith; 
 and those who keep back money and property 
 which they certainly ought to have renounced 
 and forsaken, it never allows to arrive at 
 the perfection of the gospel. And we find 
 in Holy Scripture instances of these three 
 catastrophes which were visited with no light 
 punishment. For when Gehazi wished to 
 acquire what he had never had before, not only 
 did he fail to obtain the gift of prophecy which 
 it would have been his to receive from his 
 master by hereditary succession, but on the 
 contrary he was covered by the curse of the 
 holy Elisha with a perpetual leprosy: -while 
 Judas, wanting to resume the possession of the 
 wealth which he had formerly cast away when 
 he followed Christ, not only fell into betraying 
 the Lord, and lost his apostolic rank, but also 
 was not allowed to close his life with the com- 
 mon lot of all but ended it by a violent death. 
 But Ananias and Sapphira, keeping back a 
 part of that which was formerly their own, were 
 at the Apostle's word punished with death. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Of the difference between one who renounces the world badly 
 and one who does not renounce it at all. 
 
 Of those then who say that they have re- 
 nounced this world, and afterwards being over- 
 come by want of faith are afraid of losing their 
 worldly goods, a charge is given mystically 
 in Deuteronomy. " If any man is afraid and 
 of a fearful heart let him not go forth to war: 
 let him go back and return home, lest he make 
 the hearts of his brethren to fear as he himself 
 is timid and frightened." 3 What can one 
 want plainer than this testimony? Does not 
 Scripture clearly prefer that they should not 
 take on them even the earliest stages of this 
 profession and its name, rather than by their 
 persuasion and bad example turn others back 
 from the perfection of the' gospel, and weaken 
 them by their faithless terror. And so they 
 are bidden to withdraw from the battle and 
 return to their homes, because a man cannot 
 fight the Lord's battle with a double heart. 
 For "a double-minded man is unstable in all 
 his ways." 4 And thinking, according to that 
 
 3 Deut. xx. S. 
 
 * S. James i. 8. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 2 53 
 
 Parable in the Gospel, 1 that he who goes forth 
 with ten thousand men against a king who 
 comes with twenty thousand, cannot possibly 
 fight, they should, while he is yet a great way 
 off, ask for peace ; that is, it is better for them 
 not even to take the first step towards renun- 
 ciation, rather than afterwards following it up 
 coldly, to involve themselves in still greater 
 dangers. For " it is better not to vow, than 
 to vow and not pay." " But finely is the one 
 described as coming with ten thousand and 
 the other with twenty. For the number of 
 sins which attack us is far larger than that of 
 the virtues which fight for us. But "no man 
 can serve God and Mammon." 3 And "no 
 man putting his hand to the plough and look- 
 ing back is fit for the kingdom of God." 4 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Of the authority under which those shelter themselves who 
 object to stripping themselves of their goods. 
 
 These then try to make out a case for their 
 original avarice, by some authority from Holy 
 Scripture, which they interpret with base in- 
 genuity, in their desire to wrest and pervert 
 to their own purposes a saying of the Apostle 
 or rather of the Lord Himself: and, not 
 adapting their own life or understanding to 
 the meaning of the Scripture, but making the 
 meaning of Scripture bend to the desires of 
 their own lust, they try to make it to cor- 
 respond to their own views, and say that it is 
 written, " It is more blessed to give than to 
 receive. " 5 And by an entirely wrong interpre- 
 tation of this they think that they can weaken 
 the force of that saying of the Lord in which 
 he says: "If thou wilt be perfect, go sell all 
 that thou hast and give to the poor, and thou 
 shalt have treasure in heaven ; and come, fol- 
 low me." 6 And they think that under colour 
 of this they need not deprive themselves of 
 their riches : declaring indeed that they are 
 more blessed if, supported by that which 
 originally belonged to them, they give to 
 others also out of their superabundance. And 
 while they are shy of embracing with the 
 Apostle that glorious state of abnegation for 
 Christ's sake, they will not be content either 
 with manual labour or the sparing diet of the 
 monastery. And the only thing is that these 
 must either know that they are deceiving 
 themselves, and have not really renounced 
 the world while they are clinging to their 
 former riches; or, if they really and truly 
 
 1 S. Luke xiv. 31, 32. 
 
 2 Eccl. v. 4 (LXX.). 
 8 S. Matt. vi. 24. 
 
 * S. Luke ix. 62. 
 
 c Acts xx. 35. 
 
 S. Matt. xix. 21. 
 
 want to make trial of the monastic life, they 
 must give up and forsake all these things and 
 keep back nothing of that which they have 
 renounced, and, with the Apostle, glory " in 
 hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness." 7 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Of the renunciation of the apostles and the primitive church. 
 
 As if he (who, by his assertion that he was 
 endowed with the privileges of a Roman citizen 
 from his birth, testifies that he was no mean 
 person according to this world's rank) might 
 not likewise have been supported by the prop- 
 erty which formerly belonged to him! And 
 as if those men who were possessors of lands 
 and houses in Jerusalem and sold everything 
 and kept back nothing whatever for them- 
 selves, and brought the price of them and laid 
 it at the feet of the apostles, might not have 
 supplied their bodily necessities from their 
 own property, had this been considered the 
 best plan by the apostles, or had they them- 
 selves deemed it preferable ! But they gave 
 up all their property at once, and preferred 
 to be supported by their own labour, and by 
 the contributions of the Gentiles, of whose 
 collection the holy Apostle speaks in writing 
 to the Romans, and declaring his own office 
 in this matter to them, and urging them on 
 likewise to make this collection: "But now I 
 go to Jerusalem to minister to the saints. 
 For it has pleased them of Macedonia and 
 Achaia to make a certain contribution for the 
 poor saints who are at Jerusalem : it has 
 pleased them indeed, and their debtors they 
 are. For if the Gentiles are made partakers 
 of their spiritual things, they ought also to 
 minister to them in carnal things." 8 To the 
 Corinthians also he shows the same anxiety 
 about this, and urges them the more diligently 
 to prepare before his arrival a collection, 
 which he was intending to send for their 
 needs. " But concerning the collection for 
 the saints, as I appointed to the churches of 
 Galatia, so also do ye. Let each one of you 
 on the first day of the week put apart with 
 himself, laying up what it shall well please 
 him, that when I come the collections be not 
 then to be made. But when I come whomso- 
 ever you shall approve by your letters, them 
 I will send to carry your grace to Jerusalem." 
 And that he may stimulate them to make a 
 larger collection, he adds, "But if it be meet 
 that I also go, they shall go with me : " 9 mean- 
 ing if your offering is of such a character as 
 
 7 2 Cor. ii. 27. 8 Rom. xv. 25-27. 
 
 1 Cor. xvi. 
 
254 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 to deserve to be taken there by my ministra- 
 tion. To the Galatians too, he testifies that 
 when he was settling the division of the minis- 
 try of preaching with the apostles, he had 
 arranged this with James, Peter, and John : 
 that he should undertake the preaching to the 
 Gentiles, but should never repudiate care and 
 anxious thought for the poor who were at 
 Jerusalem, who for Christ's sake gave up all 
 their goods, and submitted to voluntary pov- 
 erty. "And when they saw," said he, "the 
 grace of God which was given to me, James 
 and Cephas and John, who seemed to be pillars, 
 gave to me and to Barnabas the right hand 
 of fellowship, that we should preach to the 
 Gentiles, but they to those of the circum- 
 cision : only they would that we should be 
 mindful of the poor." A matter which he 
 testifies that he attended to most carefully, 
 saying, "which also I was anxious of myself to 
 do." 1 Who then are the more blessed, those 
 who but lately were gathered out of the number 
 of the heathen, and being unable to climb to 
 the heights of the perfection of the gospel, 
 clung to their own property, in whose case it 
 was considered a great thing by the Apostle if 
 at least they were restrained from the worship 
 of idols, and from fornication, and from things 
 strangled, and from blood, 2 and had embraced 
 the faith of Christ, with their goods and all : 
 or those who live up to the demands of the 
 gospel, and carry the Lord's cross daily, and 
 want nothing out of their property to remain 
 for their own use? And if the blessed Apostle 
 himself, bound with chains and fetters, or 
 hampered by the difficulties of travelling, 
 and for these . reasons not being able to pro- 
 vide with his hands, as he generally did, for 
 the supply of his food, declares that he re- 
 ceived that which supplied his wants from the 
 brethren who came from Macedonia; "For 
 that which was lacking tome," he says, "the 
 brethren who came from Macedonia sup- 
 plied : " 3 and to the Philippians he says : " For 
 ye Philippians know also that in the begin- 
 ning of the gospel, when I came from Mace- 
 donia, no church communicated with me in 
 the matter of giving and receiving, except you 
 only; because even in Thessalonica once and 
 again you sent to supply my needs : " 4 (if this 
 was so) then, according to the notion of these 
 men, which they have formed in the coldness 
 of their heart, will those men really be more 
 blessed than the Apostle, because it is found 
 that they have ministered to him of their sub- 
 stance? But this no one will venture to as- 
 sert, however big a fool he may be. 
 
 1 Gal. ii. g, io. 
 1 Acts xv. 20. 
 
 s 2 Cor. xi. q. 
 4 Phil. iv. 15, 16. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 That if we want to imitate the apostles we ought not to live 
 according to our own prescriptions, but to follow their 
 example. 
 
 Wherefore if we want to obey the gospel 
 precept, and to show ourselves the followers 
 of the Apostle and the whole primitive church, 
 or of the fathers who in our own days suc- 
 ceeded to their virtues and perfection, we 
 should not acquiesce in our own prescrip- 
 tions, promising ourselves perfection from this 
 wretched and lukewarm condition of ours: 
 but following their footsteps, we should by 
 no means aim at looking after our own inter- 
 ests, but should seek out the discipline and 
 system of a monastery, that we may in very 
 truth renounce this world; preserving nothing 
 of those things which we have despised 
 through the temptation of want of faith ; and 
 should look for our daily food, not from any 
 store of money of our own, but from our own 
 labours. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A saying of S. Basil, the Bishop, directed against Syncletius.5 
 
 There is current a saying of S. Basil, 
 Bishop of Cassarea, directed against a certain 
 Syncletius, who was growing indifferent with 
 the sort of lukewarmness of which we have 
 spoken ; who, though he professed to have re- 
 nounced this world, had yet kept back for 
 himself some of his property, not liking to be 
 supported by the labour of his own hands, 
 and to acquire true humility by stripping 
 himself and by grinding toil, and the subjec- 
 tion of the monastery: "You have," said he, 
 " spoilt Syncletius, and not made a monk." 
 
 ' CHAPTER XX. 
 
 How contemptible it is to be overcome by covetousness. 
 
 And so if we want to strive lawfully in our 
 spiritual combat, let us expel this dangerous 
 enemy also from our hearts. For to overcome 
 him does not so much show great virtue, as to 
 be beaten by him is shameful and disgraceful. 
 For when you are overpowered by a strong 
 man; though there is grief in being overthrown, 
 and distress at the loss of victory, yet some 
 consolation may be derived by the vanquished 
 
 5 Petschemg's text has Syncletium as a proper narfie. Gazaeus, 
 however, thinks that it should be Syncleticum ; i.e. SvykAtjtikos or 
 Senator : and in the saying of S. Basil at the close of the chapter actu- 
 ally reads (apparently without any MS. authority), Et Senatorem, 
 inquit, perdidisti. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 2 55 
 
 from the strength of their opponent. But if 
 the enemy is a poor creature, and the struggle 
 a feeble one, besides the grief for defeat there 
 is confusion of a more disgraceful character, 
 and a shame which is worse than loss. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 How covetousness can bs conquered. 
 
 And in this case it will be the greatest 
 victory and a lasting triumph, if, as is said, 
 the conscience of the monk is not defiled by 
 the possession of the smallest coin. For it 
 is an impossibility for him who, overcome in 
 the matter of a small possession, has once 
 admitted into his heart a root of evil desire, 
 not to be inflamed presently with the heat of 
 a still greater desire. For the soldier of 
 Christ will be victorious and in safety, and 
 free from all the attacks of desire, so long as 
 this most evil spirit does not implant in his 
 heart a seed of this desire. Wherefore, though 
 in the matter of all kinds of sins we ought 
 ordinarily to watch the serpent's head, 1 yet in 
 this above all we should be more keenly on 
 our guard. For if it has been admitted it will 
 grow by feeding on itself, and will kindle for 
 itself a worse fire. And so we must not only 
 guard against the possession of money, but also 
 must expel from our souls the desire for it. 
 For we should not so much avoid the results 
 of covetousness, as cut off by the roots all 
 disposition towards it. For it will do no good 
 not to possess money, if there exists in us the 
 desire for getting it. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 That one who actually has no money may still be deemed 
 covetous. 
 
 For it is possible even for one who has no 
 money to be by no means free from the malady 
 of covetousness, and for the blessing of pen- 
 ury to do him no good, because he has not 
 been able to root out the sin of cupidity: 
 delighting in the advantages of poverty, not 
 in the merit of the virtue, and satisfied with 
 the burden of necessity, not without coldness 
 of heart. For just as the word of the gospel 
 declares of those who are not defiled in body, 
 that they are adulterers in heart; 2 so it is 
 possible that those who are in no way pressed 
 down with the weight of money may be con- 
 demned with the covetous in disposition and 
 intent. For it was the opportunity of possess- 
 
 1 Gen. iii. 15. 
 
 5 S. Matt. v. 28. 
 
 ing which was wanting in their case, and not 
 the will for it: which latter is always crowned 
 by God, rather than compulsion. And so we 
 must use all diligence lest the fruits of our 
 labours should be destroyed to no purpose. 
 For it is a wretched thing to have endured the 
 effects of poverty and want, but to have lost 
 their fruits, through the fault of a shattered 
 will. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 An example drawn from the case of Judas. 
 
 Would you like to know how dangerously 
 and harmfully that incitement, unless it has 
 been carefully eradicated, will shoot up for the 
 destruction of its owner, and put forth all 
 sorts of branches of different sins ? Look at 
 Judas, reckoned among the number of the 
 apostles, and see how because he would not 
 bruise the deadly head of this serpent it de- 
 stroyed him with its poison, and how when 
 he was caught in the snares of concupiscence, 
 it drove him into sin and a headlong downfall, 
 so that he was persuaded to sell the Redeemer 
 of the world and the author of man's salva- 
 tion for thirty pieces of silver. And he could 
 never have been impelled to this heinous sin 
 of the betrayal if he had not been contami- 
 nated by the sin of covetousness: nor would 
 he have made himself wickedly guilty of be- 
 traying 3 the Lord, unless he had first accus- 
 tomed himself to rob the bag intrusted to him. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 That covetousness cannot be overcome except by stripping 
 one's self of everything. 
 
 This is a sufficiently dreadful and clear in- 
 stance of this tyranny, which, when once the 
 mind is taken prisoner by it, allows it to keep 
 to no rules of honesty, nor to be satisfied with 
 any additions to its gains. For we must seek 
 to put an end to this madness, not by riches, 
 but by stripping ourselves of them. Lastly, 
 when he (viz. Judas) had received the bag set 
 apart for the distribution to the poor, and in- 
 trusted to his care for this purpose, that he 
 might at least satisfy himself with plenty of 
 money, and set a limit to his avarice, yet his 
 plentiful supply only broke out into a still 
 greedier incitement of desire, so that he was 
 ready no longer secretly to rob the bag, but 
 actually to sell the Lord Himself. For the 
 madness of this avarice is not satisfied with 
 any amount of riches. 
 
 Negaticnis (Petschenig). Another reading is necationis. 
 
'56 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Of the deaths of Ananias and Sapphira, and Judas, which they 
 underwent through the impulse of covetousness. 
 
 Lastly, the chief of the apostles, taught by 
 these instances, and knowing that one who 
 has any avarice cannot bridle it, and that it 
 cannot be put an end to by a large or small 
 sum of money, but only by the virtue of renun- 
 ciation of everything, punished with death 
 Ananias and Sapphira, who were mentioned 
 before, because they had kept back something 
 out of their property, that that death which 
 Judas had voluntarily met with for the sin of 
 betraying the Lord, they might also undergo 
 for their lying avarice. 1 How closely do the 
 sin and punishment correspond in each case ! 
 In the one case treachery, in the other false- 
 hood, was the result of covetousness. In the 
 one case the truth is betrayed, in the other 
 the sin of lying is committed. For though 
 the issues of their deeds may appear different, 
 yet they coincide in having one and the same 
 aim. For the one, in order to escape poverty, 
 desired to take back what he had forsaken; 
 the others, for fear lest they might become 
 poor, tried to keep back something out of 
 their property, which they should have either 
 offered to the Apostle in good faith, or have 
 given entirely to the brethren. And so in 
 each case there follows the judgment of death; 
 because each sin sprang from the root of 
 covetousness. And so if against those who 
 did not covet other persons' goods, but tried 
 to be sparing of their own, and had no desire 
 to acquire, but only the wish to retain, there 
 went forth so severe a sentence, what should 
 we think of those who desire to amass wealth, 
 without ever having had any of their own, and, 
 making a show of poverty before men, are 
 before God convicted of being rich, through 
 the passion of avarice ? 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 That covetousness brings upon the soul a spiritual leprosy. 
 
 And such are seen to be lepers in spirit and 
 heart, after the likeness of Gehazi, who, desir- 
 ing the uncertain riches of this world, was 
 covered with the taint of foul leprosy, through 
 which he left us a clear example that every 
 soul which is defiled with the stain of cupid- 
 ity is covered with the spiritual leprosy of 
 sin, and is counted as unclean before God 
 with a perpetual curse. 
 
 1 Cf. Acts v. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Scripture proofs by which one who is aiming at perfection is 
 taught not to take back again what he has given up and 
 renounced. 
 
 If then through the desire of perfection you 
 have forsaken all things and followed Christ 
 who says to thee, " Go sell all that thou hast, 
 and give to the poor, and thou shalt have 
 treasure in heaven: and come follow me," 2 
 why, having put your hand to the plough, do 
 you look back, so that you will be declared 
 by the voice of the same Lord not to be fit 
 for the kingdom of heaven ? 3 When secure on 
 the top of the gospel roof, why do you descend 
 to carry away something from the house, from 
 those things, namely, which beforetime you 
 despised? When you are out in the field 
 and working at the virtues, why do you run 
 back and try to clothe yourself again with 
 what belongs to this world, which you stripped 
 off when you renounced it? 4 But if you were 
 hindered by poverty from having anything to 
 give up, still less ought you to amass what 
 you never had before. For by the grace of 
 the Lord you were for this purpose made ready 
 that you might hasten to him the more readily, 
 being hampered by no snares of wealth. But 
 let no one who is wanting in this be disap- 
 pointed ; for there is no one who has not some- 
 thing to give up. He has renounced all the 
 possessions of this world, whoever has thor- 
 oughly eradicated the desire to possess them. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 That the victory over covetousness can only be gained by 
 stripping one's self bare of everything. 
 
 This then is the perfect victory over covet- 
 ousness : not to allow a gleam from the very 
 smallest scrap of it to remain in our heart, as 
 we know that we shall have no further power 
 of quenching it, if we cherish even the tiniest 
 bit of a spark of it in us. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 How a monk can retain his poverty. 
 
 And we can only preserve this virtue unim- 
 paired if we remain in a monastery, and as 
 the Apostle says, having food and clothing, 
 are therewith content. 5 
 
 - Matt. xix. 21. 
 
 3 Cf. S. Luke ix. 62. 
 
 Cf. S. Luke xvii. 31. 
 1 Tim. vi. 8. 
 
BOOK VIII. 
 
 257 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 The remedies against the disease of covetousness. 
 
 Keeping then in mind the judgment of 
 Ananias and Sapphira let us dread keeping 
 back any of those things which we gave up 
 and vowed utterly to forsake. Let us also 
 fear the example of Gehazi, who for the sin 
 of covetousness was chastised with the pun- 
 ishment of perpetual leprosy. From this let 
 us beware of acquiring that wealth which 
 we never formerly possessed. Moreover also 
 dreading both the fault and the death of Judas, 
 let us with all the power that we have avoid 
 taking back any of that wealth which once we 
 cast away from us. Above all, considering 
 the state of our weak and shifty nature, let us 
 beware lest the day of the Lord come upon us 
 as a thief in the night, 1 and find our conscience 
 defiled even by a single penny; for this would 
 make void all the fruits of our renunciation 
 of the world, and cause that which was said 
 
 to the rich man in the gospel to be directed 
 towards us also by the voice of the Lord: 
 "Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be re- 
 quired of thee: then whose shall those things 
 be which thou hast prepared? " 4 And taking 
 no thought for the morrow, let us never allow 
 ourselves to be enticed away from the rule of 
 the Coenobium. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 That no one can get the better of covetousness unless he stays 
 in the Ccenobium : and how one can remain there. 
 
 But we shall certainly not be suffered to 
 do this, nor even to remain under the rule of 
 a system, unless the virtue of patience, which 
 can only spring from humility as its source, 
 is first securely fixed and established in us. 
 For the one teaches us not to trouble any one 
 else; the other, to endure with magnanimity 
 wrongs offered to us. 
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 
 OF THE SPIRIT OF ANGER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 How our fourth conflict is against the sin of anger, and how 
 many evils this passion produces. 
 
 In our fourth combat the deadly poison of 
 anger has to be utterly rooted out from the 
 inmost corners of our soul. For as long as 
 this remains in our hearts, and blinds with its 
 hurtful darkness the eye of the soul, we can 
 neither acquire right judgment and discre- 
 tion, nor gain the insight which springs from 
 an honest gaze, or ripeness of counsel, nor 
 can we be partakers of life, or retentive of 
 righteousness, or even have the capacity for 
 spiritual and true light: "for," says one, 
 "mine eye is disturbed by reason of anger." 2 
 Nor can we become partakers of wisdom, even 
 though we are considered wise by universal 
 consent, for "anger rests in the bosom of 
 fools." 8 Nor can we even attain immortal 
 
 1 1 Thcss. v. 4. 2 p s . xxx . (xxxi.) 10. 3 Eccl. vii. 10 (LXX.). 
 
 life, although we are accounted prudent in the 
 opinion of everybody, for "anger destroys 
 even the prudent." 5 Nor shall we be able 
 with clear judgment of heart to secure the con- 
 trolling power of righteousness, even though 
 we are reckoned perfect and holy in the esti- 
 mation of all men, for "the wrath of man 
 worketh not the righteousness of God." 6 Nor 
 can we by any possibility acquire that esteem 
 and honour which is so frequently seen even in 
 worldlings, even though we are thought noble 
 and honourable through the privileges of birth, 
 because "an angry man is dishonoured." 7 Nor 
 again can we secure any ripeness of counsel, 
 even though we appear to be weighty, and 
 endowed with the utmost knowledge ; because 
 "an angry man acts without counsel." 8 Nor 
 can we be free from dangerous disturbances, 
 nor be without sin, even though no sort of 
 disturbances be brought upon us by others; 
 
 4 S. Luke xii. 20. 
 
 5 Prov. xv. 1 (LXX.). 
 
 6 S. James i. 20. 
 
 ^ Prov. xi. 25 (LXX.). 
 8 Prov. xiv. 17 (LXX.) 
 
258 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 because " a passionate man engenders quarrels, 
 but an angry man digs up sins." * 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Of those who say that anger is not injurious, if we are angry 
 with those who do wrong, since God Himself is said to be 
 angry. 
 
 We have heard some people trying to excuse 
 this most pernicious disease of the soul, in 
 such a way as to endeavour to extenuate it by a 
 rather shocking way of interpreting Scripture: 
 as they say that it is not injurious if we are 
 angry with the brethren who do wrong, since, 
 say they, God Himself is said to rage and to 
 be angry with those who either will not know 
 Him, or, knowing Him, spurn Him, as here: 
 " And the anger of the Lord was kindled against 
 His people ; " a or where the prophet prays and 
 says, " O Lord, rebuke me not in thine anger, 
 neither chasten me in thy displeasure;" 3 not 
 understanding that, while they want to open 
 to men an excuse for a most pestilent sin, they 
 are ascribing to the Divine Infinity and Foun- 
 tain of all purity a taint of human passion. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Of those things which are spoken of God anthropomorphically. 
 
 For if when these things are said of God 
 they are to be understood literally in a mate- 
 rial and gross signification, then also He sleeps, 
 as it is said, "Arise, wherefore sleepest thou, 
 O Lord?" 4 though it is elsewhere said of 
 Him: " Behold he that keepeth Israel shall 
 neither slumber nor sleep." 5 And He stands 
 and sits, since He says, " Heaven is my seat, 
 and earth the footstool for my feet : " 6 though 
 He "measure out the heaven with his hand, 
 and holdeth the earth in his fist." 7 And He 
 is "drunken with wine" as it is said, "The 
 Lord awoke like a sleeper, a mighty man, 
 drunken with wine;" 8 He "who only hath 
 immortality and dwelleth in the light which 
 no man can approach unto : " 9 not to say any- 
 thing of the " ignorance " and " forgetfulness," 
 
 1 Prov. xxix. 22 (LXX.) 'Aviqp 0U|U.io8r)s iyeipei v(iko<;, a.v'r)p &k 
 opyiAo? efiopi*£ei' afxapTLav. The old Latin as given by Sabatier 
 has " Vir animosus parit zixas : virautem iracundus effodit peccata." 
 The verse is quoted by Gregory the Great in a passage which seems 
 a reminiscence of Cassian's words, with the reading effundit for 
 effodit (Moral V. xxxi.) Jerome's rendering in the Vulgate is quite 
 different: " Vir iracundus provocat zixas; et qui ad indignandum 
 facilis est erit ad peccandum proclivior." 
 
 2 Ps. cv. (cvi.) 40. 
 
 3 Ps. vi. 2. 
 
 4 Ps. xliii. (xliv.) 23. 
 
 5 Ps. cxx. (exxi.) 4. 
 
 6 Isa. lxvi. 1. 
 
 7 Isa. xl. 12. 
 
 8 Ps. lxxvii. (lxxviii.) 65. 
 
 9 1 Tim. vi. 16. 
 
 of which we often find mention in Holy Scrip- 
 ture: nor lastly of the outline of His limbs, 
 which are spoken of as arranged and ordered 
 like a man's; e.g., the hair, head, nostrils, 
 eyes, face, hands, arms, fingers, belly, and 
 feet: if we are willing to take all of which 
 according to the bare literal sense, we must 
 think of God as in fashion with the outline 
 of limbs, and a bodily form; which indeed is 
 shocking even to speak of, and must be far 
 from our thoughts. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 In what sense we should understand the passions and human 
 parts which are ascribed to the unchanging and incorporeal 
 God. 
 
 And so as without horrible profanity these 
 things cannot be understood literally of Him 
 who is declared by the authority of Holy 
 Scripture to be invisible, ineffable, incompre- 
 hensible, inestimable, simple, and uncom- 
 pounded, so neither can the passion of anger 
 and wrath be attributed to that unchangeable 
 nature without fearful blasphemy. For we 
 ought to see that the limbs signify the divine 
 powers and boundless operations of God, 
 which can only be represented to us by the 
 familiar expression of limbs: by the mouth 
 we should understand that His utterances are 
 meant, which are of His mercy continually 
 poured into the secret senses of the soul, or 
 which He spoke among our fathers and the 
 prophets : by the eyes we can understand the 
 boundless character of His sight with which 
 He sees and looks through all things, and so 
 nothing is hidden from Him of what is done 
 or can be done by us, or even thought. By 
 the expression "hands," we understand His 
 providence and work, by which He is the cre- 
 ator and author of all things; the arms are 
 the emblems of His might and government, 
 with which He upholds, rules and controls all 
 things. And not to speak of other things, 
 what else does the hoary hair of His head sig- 
 nify but the eternity and perpetuity of Deity, 
 through which He is without any beginning, 
 and before all times, and excels all creatures? 
 So then also when we read of the anger or fury 
 of the Lord, we should take it not &vdooinonud<as ; 
 i.e., according to an unworthy meaning of 
 human passion, 10 but in a sense worthy of God, 
 who is free from all passion; so that by this 
 we should understand that He is the judge 
 and avenger of all the unjust things which are 
 done in this world; and by reason of these 
 
 10 On the heresy of the Anthropomorphites see the notes on Con- 
 ference X. c. ii. 
 
BOOK VIII. 
 
 259 
 
 terms and their meaning we should dread 
 Him as the terrible rewarder of our deeds, 
 and fear to do anything against His will. For 
 human nature is wont to fear those whom it 
 knows to be indignant, and is afraid of offend- 
 ing: as in the case of some most just judges, 
 avenging wrath is usually feared by those who 
 are tormented by some accusation of their 
 conscience; not indeed that this passion 
 exists in the minds of those who are going to 
 judge with perfect equity, but that, while they 
 so fear, the disposition of the judge towards 
 them is that which is the precursor ot a just 
 and impartial execution of the law. And this, 
 with whatever kindness and gentleness it may 
 be conducted, is deemed by those who are 
 justly to be punished to be the most savage 
 wrath and vehement anger. It would be tedi- 
 ous and outside the scope of the present work 
 were we to explain all the things which are 
 spoken metaphorically of God in Holy Scrip- 
 ture, with human figures. Let it be enough 
 for our present purpose, which is aimed against 
 the sin of wrath, to have said this that no one 
 may through ignorance draw down upon him- 
 self a cause of this evil and of eternal death, 
 out of those Scriptures in which he should 
 seek for saintliness and immortality as the 
 remedies to bring life and salvation. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 How calm a monk ought to be. 
 
 And so a monk aiming at perfection, and 
 desiring to strive lawfully in his spiritual 
 combat, should be free from all sin of anger 
 and wrath, and should listen to the charge 
 which the "chosen vessel" gives him. "Let 
 all anger," says he, and wrath, and clamour, 
 and evil speaking, be taken away from among 
 you, with all malice." 1 When he says, "Let 
 all anger be taken away from you, ' ' he excepts 
 none whatever as necessary or useful for us. 
 And if need be, he should at once treat an 
 erring brother in such a way that, while he 
 manages to apply a remedy to one afflicted 
 with perhaps a slight fever, he may not by 
 his wrath involve himself in a more dangerous 
 malady of blindness. For he who wants to 
 heal another's wound ought to be in good 
 health and free from every affection of weak- 
 ness himself, lest that saying of the gospel 
 should be used to him, " Physician, first heal 
 thyself;" 2 and lest, seeing a mote in his 
 brother's eye, he see not the beam in his own 
 eye, for how will he see to cast out the mote 
 from his brother's eye, who has the beam of 
 anger in his own eye ? 3 
 
 1 Eph. iv. 31. 2 S. Luke iv. 23. 3 Cf. S. Matt. vii. 3-5. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Of the righteous and unrighteous passion of wrath. 
 
 From almost every cause the emotion of 
 wrath boils over, and blinds the eyes of the 
 soul, and, bringing the deadly beam of a 
 worse disease over the keenness of our sight, 
 prevents us from seeing the sun of righteous- 
 ness. It makes no difference whether gold 
 plates, or lead, or what metal you please, are 
 placed over our eyelids, the value of the metal 
 makes no difference in our blindness. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Of the only case in which anger is useful to us. 
 
 We have, it must be admitted, a use for 
 anger excellently implanted in us for which 
 alone it is useful and profitable for us to ad- 
 mit it, viz., when we are indignant and rage 
 against the lustful emotions of our heart, and 
 are vexed that the things which we are ashamed 
 to do or say before men have risen up in 
 the lurking places of our heart, as we tremble 
 at the presence of the angels, and of God 
 Himself, who pervades all things everywhere, 
 and fear with the utmost dread the eye of Him 
 from whom the secrets of our hearts cannot 
 possibly be hid. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Instances from the life of the blessed David in which anger 
 was rightly felt. 
 
 And at any rate (this is the case), when we 
 are agitated against this very anger, because 
 it has stolen on us against our brother, and 
 when in wrath we expel its deadly incitements, 
 nor suffer it to have a dangerous lurking place 
 in the recesses of our heart. To bs angry in 
 this fashion even that prophet teaches us who 
 had so completely expelled it from his own 
 feelings that he would not retaliate even on 
 his enemies and those delivered by God into 
 his hands: when he says "Be ye angry and 
 sin not." 4 For he, when he had longed for 
 water from the well of Bethlehem, and had 
 been given it by his mighty men. who had 
 brought it through the midst of the hosts of 
 the enemy, at once poured it .out on the 
 ground: and thus in his anger extinguished 
 the delicious feeling of his desire, and poured 
 it out to the Lord, without satisfying the long- 
 ing that he had expressed, saying: "That be 
 
 4 Ps. iv. 5. 
 
 ill 
 
260 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 far from me that I should do this! Shall I 
 drink the blood of those men who went forth, 
 on the danger of their souls?" 1 And when 
 Shimei threw stones at King David and cursed 
 him, in his hearing, before everybody, and 
 Abishai, the son of Zeruiah, the captain of the 
 host, wished to cut off his head and avenge 
 the insult to the king, the blessed David, 
 moved with pious wrath against this dreadful 
 suggestion of his, and keeping the due meas- 
 ure of humility and a strict patience, said with 
 imperturbable gentleness, "What have I to 
 do with you, ye sons of Zeruiah? Let him 
 alone that he may curse. For the Lord hath 
 commanded him to curse David. And who 
 is he who shall dare to say, Why hast thou 
 done this? Behold my son, who came forth 
 from my loins, seeks my life, and how much 
 more this son of Benjamin? Let him alone, 
 that he may curse, according to the command 
 of the Lord. It may be the Lord will look 
 upon my affliction, and return to me good for 
 this cursing to-day." 2 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Of the anger which should be directed against ourselves. 
 
 And some are commanded to "be angry" 
 after a wholesome fashion, but with our own 
 selves, and with evil thoughts that arise, and 
 "not to sin," viz., by bringing them to a bad 
 issue. Finally, the next verse explains this to 
 be the meaning more clearly: "The things you 
 say in your hearts, be sorry for them on your 
 beds:" 3 i.e., whatever you think of in your 
 hearts when sudden and nervous excitements 
 rush in on you, correct and amend with whole- 
 some sorrow, lying as it were on a bed of rest, 
 and removing by the moderating influence of 
 counsel all noise and disturbance of wrath. 
 Lastly, the blessed Apostle, when he made use 
 of the testimony of this verse, and said, "Be 
 ye angry and sin iiot," added, "Let not the 
 sun go down upon your wrath, neither give 
 place to the devil." 4 If it is dangerous for 
 the sun of righteousness to go down upon our 
 wrath, and if when we are angry we straight- 
 way give place to the devil in our hearts, how 
 is it that above he charges us to be angry, 
 saying, " Be ye angry, and sin not " ? Does he 
 not evidently mean this : be ye angry with 
 your faults and your tempers, lest, if you ac- 
 quiesce in them, Christ, the sun of righteous- 
 ness, may on account of your anger begin to 
 go down on your darkened minds, and when 
 He departs you may furnish a place for the 
 devil in your hearts? 
 
 1 2 Sam. xxiii. 17. 
 
 2 2 Sam. xvi. 10-12. 
 
 3 Ps. iv. 5. 
 
 4 Eph. iv. 26. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Of the sun, of which it is said that it should not go down upon 
 your wrath. 
 
 And of this sun God clearly makes mention 
 by the prophet, when He says, " But to those 
 that fear my name the sun of righteousness 
 shall arise with healing in His wings." 5 And 
 this again is said to "go down " at midday on 
 sinners and false prophets, and those who are 
 angry, when the prophet says, "Their sun is 
 gone down at noon." 6 And at any rate 
 "tropically" 7 the mind, that is the vovg or ;. 
 reason, which is fairly called the sun because f 
 it looks over all the thoughts and discernings 
 of the heart, should not be put out by the sin 
 of anger: lest when it "goes down" the shad- 
 ows of disturbance, together with the devil 
 their author, fill all the feelings of our hearts, 
 and, overwhelmed by the shadows of wrath, 
 as in a murky night, we know not what we 
 ought to do. In this sense it is that we have 
 brought forward this passage of the Apostle, 
 handed down to us by the teaching of the 
 elders, because it was needful, even at the 
 risk of a somewhat lengthy discourse, to show 
 how they felt with regard to anger, for they 
 do not permit it even for a moment to effect 
 an entrance into our heart: observing with the 
 utmost care that saying of the gospel: "Who- 
 soever is angry with his brother is in danger 
 of the judgment." 8 But if it be lawful to be 
 angry up till sunset, the surfeit of our wrath 
 and the vengeance of our anger will be able to 
 give full play to passion and dangerous ex- 
 citement before that sun inclines towards its 
 setting. 9 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Of those to whose wrath even the going down of the sun sets 
 no limit. 
 
 But what am I to say of those (and I can- 
 not say it without shame on my own part) to 
 whose implacability even the going down of 
 the sun sets no bound : but prolonging it for 
 several days, and nourishing rancorous feel- 
 ings against those against whom they have 
 been excited, they say in words that they are 
 not angry, but in fact and deed they show that 
 
 5 Mai. iv. 2. 
 
 6 Amos viii. 9. 
 
 7 On the different senses of Scripture see the note on Conference 
 XIV. viii. 
 
 8 S. Matt. v. 22. 
 
 9 Petschenig's text is as follows: Cetemm si usque ad occasum 
 solis licitur sit irasci, ante furor is satietas et uttrices irce commo- 
 tionent fioterunt noxiiE perturbationis explere, quam sot iste ad 
 tecum sui vergat occasus. That of Gazsus has " ante pcrturba- 
 t tones noxioe fioterunt furoris satietatem et ultricis irce commotionem 
 explere, etc. 
 
BOOK VIII. 
 
 261 
 
 they are extremely disturbed? For they do 
 not speak to them pleasantly, nor address them 
 with ordinary civility, and they think that they 
 are not doing wrong in this, because they do not 
 seek to avenge themselves for their upset. But 
 since they either do not dare, or at any rate 
 are not able to show their anger openly, and 
 give place to it, they drive in, to their own 
 detriment, the poison of anger, and secretly 
 cherish it in their hearts, and silently feed on 
 it in themselves; without shaking off by an 
 effort of mind their sulky disposition, but di- 
 gesting it as the days go by, and somewhat 
 mitigating it after a while. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 How this is the end of temper and anger when a man carries 
 it into act as far as he can. 
 
 But it looks as if even this was not the end 
 of vengeance to every one, but some can only 
 completely satisfy their wrath or sulkiness if 
 they carry out the impulse of anger as far as 
 they are able ; and this we know to be the case 
 with those who restrain their feelings, not 
 from desire of calming them, but simply from 
 •want of opportunity of revenge. For they can 
 do nothing more to those with whom they are 
 angry, except speak to them without ordinary 
 civility: or it looks as if anger was to be 
 moderated only in action, and not to be alto- 
 gether rooted out from its hiding place in our 
 bosom : so that, overwhelmed by its shadows, 
 we are unable not only to admit the light of 
 wholesome counsel and of knowledge, but also 
 to be a temple of the Holy Spirit, so long as 
 the spirit of anger dwells in us. For wrath 
 that is nursed in the heart, although it may 
 not injure men who stand by, yet excludes the 
 splendour of the radiance of the Holy Ghost, 
 equally with wrath that is openly manifested. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 That we should not retain our anger even for an instant. 
 
 Or how can we think that the Lord would 
 have it retained even for an instant, since He 
 does not permit us to offer the spiritual sacri- 
 fices of our prayers, if we are aware that an- 
 other has any bitterness against us: saying, 
 " If then thou bringest thy gift to the altar and 
 there rememberest that thy brother hath aught 
 against thee, leave there thy gift at the altar 
 and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy 
 brother, and then come and offer thy gift. " * 
 How then may we retain displeasure against 
 ■ — __ — _ — _ — 
 
 1 S. Matt. v. 23, 24. 
 
 our brother, I will not say for several days, 
 but even till the going down of the sun, if we 
 are not allowed to offer our prayers to God 
 while he has anything against us ? And yet 
 we are commanded by the Apostle: "Pray 
 without ceasing;" 2 and "in every place lift- 
 ing up holy hands without wrath and disput- 
 ing." 3 It remains then either that we never 
 pray at all, retaining this poison in our hearts, 
 and become guilty in regard of this apostolic 
 or evangelic charge, in which we are bidden 
 to pray everywhere and without ceasing; or 
 else if, deceiving ourselves, we venture to 
 pour forth our prayers, contrary to His com- 
 mand, we must know that we are offering to 
 God no prayer, but an obstinate temper with 
 a rebellious spirit. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Of reconciliation with our brother. 
 
 And because we often spurn the brethren 
 who are injured and saddened, and despise 
 them, and say that they were not hurt by any 
 fault of ours, the Healer of souls, who knows 
 all secrets, wishing utterly to eradicate all 
 opportunities of anger from our hearts, not 
 only commands us to forgive if we have been 
 wronged, and to be reconciled with our broth- 
 ers, and keep no recollection of wrong or inju- 
 ries against them, but He also gives a similar 
 charge, that in case we are aware that they 
 have anything against us, whether justly or 
 unjustly, we should leave our gift, that is, 
 postpone our prayers, and hasten first to offer 
 satisfaction to them; and so when our brother's 
 cure is first effected, we may bring the offer- 
 ing of our prayers without blemish. For the 
 common Lord of all does not care so much for 
 our homage as to lose in one what He gains in 
 another, through displeasure being allowed to 
 reign in us. For in anyone's loss He suffers 
 some loss, who desires and looks for the sal- 
 vation of all His servants in one and the same 
 way. And therefore our prayer will lose its 
 effect, if our brother has anything against us, 
 just as much as if we were cherishing feelings 
 of bitterness against him in a swelling and 
 wrathful spirit. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 How the Old Law would root out anger not only from the 
 actions but from the thoughts. 
 
 But why should we spend any more time 
 over evangelic and apostolic precepts, when 
 even the old law, which is thought to be some- 
 
 2 1 Thess. v. 17. 3 1 Tim. ii. S. 
 
262 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 what slack, guards against the same thing, 
 when it says, "Thou shalt not hate thy brother 
 in thine heart;" and again, "Be not mindful 
 of the injury of thy citizens;" 1 and again, 
 " The ways of those who preserve the recollec- 
 tion of wrongs are towards death " ? 2 You see 
 there too that wickedness is restrained not 
 only in action, but also in the secret thoughts, 
 since it is commanded that hatred be utterly 
 rooted out from the heart, and not merely 
 retaliation for, but the very recollection of, a 
 wrong done. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 How useless is the retirement of those who do not give up 
 their bad manners. 
 
 Sometimes when we have been overcome by 
 pride or impatience, and we want to improve 
 our rough and bearish manners, we complain 
 that we require solitude, as if we should find 
 the virtue of patience there where nobody pro- 
 vokes us: and we apologize for our careless- 
 ness, and say that the reason of our disturbance 
 does not spring from our own impatience, but 
 from the fault of our brethren. And while we 
 lay the blame of our fault on others, we shall 
 never be able to reach the goal of patience 
 and perfection. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 That the peace of our heart does not depend on another's 
 will, but lies in our own control. 
 
 The chief part then of our improvement and 
 peace of mind must not be made to depend 
 on another's will, which cannot possibly be 
 subject to our authority, but it lies rather in 
 our own control. And so the fact that we are 
 not angry ought not to result from another's 
 perfection, but from our own virtue, which is 
 acquired, not by somebody else's patience, 
 but by our own long-suffering. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Of the zeal with which we should seek the desert, and of the 
 things in which we make progress there. 
 
 Further, it is those who are perfect and 
 purified from all faults who ought to seek the 
 desert, and when they have thoroughly exter- 
 minated all their faults amid the assembly of 
 the brethren, they should enter it not by way 
 of cowardly flight, but for the purpose of 
 divine contemplation, and with the desire 
 
 1 Lev. xix. 17, 18. 
 
 2 Prov. xii.2S(LXX.). 
 
 of deeper insight into heavenly things, which 
 can only be gained in solitude by those who 
 are perfect. For whatever faults we bring 
 with us uncured into the desert, we shall find 
 to remain concealed in us and not to be got 
 rid of. For just as when the character has 
 been improved, solitude can lay open to it the 
 purest contemplation, and reveal the knowl- 
 edge of spiritual mysteries to its clear gaze, 
 sd it generally not only preserves but intensi- 
 fies the faults of those who have undergone 
 no correction. For a man appears to himself 
 to be patient and humble, just as long as he 
 comes across nobody in intercourse; but 
 he will presently revert to his former nature, 
 whenever the chance of any sort of passion 
 occurs: I mean that those faults will at once 
 appear on the surface which were lying hid, 
 and, like unbridled horses diligently fed up 
 during too long a time of idleness, dash forth 
 from the barriers the more eagerly and fiercely, 
 to the destruction of their charioteer. For 
 when the opportunity for practising them 
 among men is removed, our faults will more 
 and more increase in us, unless we have first 
 been purified from them. And the mere shadow 
 of patience, which, when we mixed with our 
 brethren, we seemed fancifully to possess, at 
 least out of respect for them and publicity, we 
 lose altogether through sloth and carelessness. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 An illustration to help in forming an opinion on those who are 
 only patient when they are not tried by any one. 
 
 \ 
 
 But it is like all poisonous kinds of serpents 
 or of wild beasts, which, while they remain 
 in solitude and their own lairs, are still not 
 harmless ; 3 for they cannot really be said to 
 be harmless, because they are not actually 
 hurting anybody. For this results in their 
 case, not from any feeling of goodness, but 
 from the exigencies of solitude, and when they 
 have secured an opportunity of hurting some 
 one, at once they produce the poison stored 
 up in them, and show the ferocity of their 
 nature. And so in the case of men who are 
 aiming at perfection, it is not enough not to 
 be angry with men. For we recollect that 
 when we were living in solitude a feeling of 
 irritation would creep over us against our pen 
 because it was too large or too small; against 
 our penknife when it cut badly and with a 
 blunt edge what we wanted cut; and against 
 a flint if by chance when we were rather 
 late and hurrying to the reading, a spark of 
 fire flashed out, so that we could not remove 
 
 Reading iwn innoxia (Petschenig). 
 
BOOK VIII. 
 
 263 
 
 and get rid of our perturbation of mind except 
 by cursing the senseless matter, or at least 
 the devil. Wherefore for a method of perfec- 
 tion it will not be of any use for there to be a 
 dearth of men against whom our anger might 
 be roused : since, if patience has not already 
 been acquired, the feelings of passion which 
 still dwell in our hearts can equally well 
 spend themselves on dumb things and paltry 
 objects, and not allow us to gain a continuous 
 state of peacefulness, or to be free from our 
 remaining faults: unless perhaps we think 
 that some advantage and a sort of cure may 
 be gained for our passion from the fact that 
 inanimate and speechless things cannot pos- 
 sibly reply to our curses and rage, nor provoke 
 our ungovernable temper to break out into a 
 worse madness of passion. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Of the way in which anger should be banished according to the 
 gospel. 
 
 Wherefore if we wish to gain the substance 
 of that divine reward of which it is said, 
 "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall 
 see God," 1 we ought not only to banish it 
 from our actions, but entirely to root it out 
 from our inmost soul. For it will not be of 
 any good to have checked anger in words, and 
 not to have shown it in deeds, if God, from 
 whom the secrets of the heart are not hid, sees 
 that it remains in the secret recesses of our 
 bosom. For the word of the gospel bids us 
 destroy the roots of our faults rather than the 
 fruits; for these, when the incitements are all 
 removed, will certainly not put forth shoots 
 any more; and so the mind will be able to 
 continue in all patience and holiness, when 
 this anger has been removed, not from the 
 surface of acts and deeds, but from the very 
 innermost thoughts. And, therefore to avoid 
 the commission of murder, anger and hatred are 
 cut off, without which the crime of murder 
 cannot possibly be committed. For "whoso- 
 ever is angry with his brother, is in danger of 
 the judgment ; " J and " whosoever hateth his 
 brother is a murderer;" 3 viz., because in his 
 heart he desires to kill him, whose blood we 
 know that he has certainly not shed among 
 men with his own hand or with a weapon ; 
 yet, owing to his burst of anger, he is declared 
 to be a murderer by God, who renders to each 
 man, not merely for the result of his actions, 
 but for his purpose and desires and wishes, 
 either a reward or a punishment; according 
 to that which He Himself says through the 
 
 1 S. Matt. v. 8. 
 
 2 lb. ver. 22. 
 
 3 1 John iii. 15. 
 
 prophet : " But I come that I may gather them 
 together with all nations and tongues; " 4 and 
 again: 5 "Their thoughts between themselves 
 accusing or also defending one another, in 
 the day when God shall judge the secrets of 
 men." 6 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Whether we ought to admit the addition of " without a 
 cause," in that which is written in the Gospel, "whosoever 
 is angry with his brother," etc. 
 
 But you should know that in this, which is 
 found in many copies, " Whosoever is angry 
 with his brother without a cause, is in danger 
 of the judgment," 7 the words "without a 
 cause " are superfluous, and were added by 
 those who did not think that anger for just 
 causes was to be banished : since certainly 
 nobody, however unreasonably he is disturbed, 
 would say that he was angry without a cause. 
 Wherefore it appears to have been added 
 by those who did not understand the drift of 
 Scripture, which intended altogether to ban- 
 ish the incentive to anger, and to reserve no 
 occasion whatever for indignation; lest while 
 we were commanded to be angry with a cause, 
 an opportunity for being angry without a cause 
 might occur to us. For the end and aim of 
 patience consists, not in being angry with a 
 good reason, but in not being angry at all. 
 Although I know that by some this very ex- 
 pression, "without a cause," is taken to mean 
 that he is angry without a cause who when 
 he is angered is not allowed to seek for ven- 
 geance. But it is better so to take it as we 
 find it written in many modern copies and all 
 the ancient ones. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 The remedies by which we can root out anger from our hearts. 
 
 Wherefore the athlete of Christ who strives 
 lawfully ought thoroughly to root out the 
 feeling of wrath. And it will be a sure rem- 
 edy for this disease, if in the first place we 
 make up our mind that we ought never to be 
 angry at all, whether for good or bad reasons : 
 as we know that we shall at once lose the 
 light of discernment, and the security of good 
 counsel, and our very uprightness, and the 
 temperate character of righteousness, if the 
 
 4 Isaiah lxvi. 18. 
 
 5 Et rursum (Petschenig): et Apostolus (Gazseus). 
 
 6 Rom. ii. 15, 16. 
 
 7 S. Matt. v. 22. The word Wk>7 is said by Westcott and' Host 
 to be " Western and Syrian." It is wanting in H, B, Origen, and 
 was not admitted by Jerome in the Vulgate. 
 
264 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 main light of our heart has been darkened by 
 its shadows : next, that the purity of our soul 
 will presently be clouded, and that it cannot 
 possibly be made a temple for the Holy Ghost 
 while the spirit of anger resides in us; lastly, 
 that we should consider that we ought never 
 to pray, nor pour out our prayer to God, 
 while we are angry. And above all, having 
 before our eyes the uncertain condition of 
 
 mankind, we should realize daily that 
 we are soon to depart from the body, 
 and that our continence and chastity, our 
 renunciation of all our possessions, our 
 contempt of wealth, our efforts in fastings 
 and vigils will not help us at all, if solely on 
 account of anger and hatred eternal pun- 
 ishments are awarded to us by the judge of 
 the world. 
 
 BOOK IX. 
 
 OF THE SPIRIT OF DEJECTION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 How our fifth combat is against the spirit of dejection, and of 
 the harm which it inflicts upon the soul. 
 
 In our fifth combat we have to resist the 
 pangs of gnawing dejection: for if this, through 
 separate attacks made at random, and by hap- 
 hazard and casual changes, has secured an 
 opportunity of gaining possession of our mind, 
 it keeps us back at all times from all insight 
 in divine contemplation, and utterly ruins 
 and depresses the mind that has fallen away 
 from its complete state of purity. It does not 
 allow it to say its prayers with its usual glad- 
 ness of heart, nor permit it to rely on the 
 comfort of reading the sacred writings, nor 
 suffer it to be quiet and gentle with the breth- 
 ren; it makes it impatient and rough in all 
 the duties of work and devotion : and, as all 
 wholesome counsel is lost, and steadfastness 
 of heart destroyed, it makes the feelings 
 almost mad and drunk, and crushes and over- 
 whelms them with penal despair. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Of the care with which the malady of dejection must be healed. 
 
 Wherefore if we are anxious to exert our- 
 selves lawfully in the struggle of our spiritual 
 combat we ought with no less care to set about 
 healing this malady also. For "as the moth 
 injures the garment, and the worm the wood, 
 so dejection the heart of man." l With suffi- 
 cient clearness and appropriateness has the 
 
 1 Prov. xxv. 20 (LXX.). 
 
 Divine Spirit expressed the force of this dan- 
 gerous and most injurious fault. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 To what the soul may be compared which is a prey to the 
 attacks of dejection. 
 
 For the garment that is moth-eaten has no 
 longer any commercial value or good use to 
 which it can be put; and in the same way 2 
 the wood that is worm-eaten is no longer worth 
 anything for ornamenting even an ordinary 
 building, but is destined to be burnt in the 
 fire. So therefore the soul also which is a 
 prey to the attacks of gnawing dejection will 
 be useless for that priestly garment which, 
 according to the prophecy of the holy David, 
 the ointment of the Holy Spirit coming down 
 from heaven, first on Aaron's beard, then on 
 his skirts, is wont to assume: as it is said, 
 "It is like the ointment upon the head which 
 ran down upon Aaron's beard, which ran down 
 to the skirts of his clothing. 3 Nor can it have 
 anything to do with the building or ornamen- 
 tation of that spiritual temple of which Paul 
 as a wise master builder laid the foundations, 
 saying, "Ye are the temple of God, and the 
 Spirit of God dwelleth in you:" 4 and what 
 the beams of this are like the bride tells us in 
 the Song of Songs : " Our rafters are of cy- 
 press : the beams of our houses are of cedar." 6 
 And therefore those sorts of wood are chosen 
 for the temple of God which are fragrant and 
 not liable to rot, and which are not subject to 
 decay from age nor to be worm-eaten. 
 
 2 ToticUm is used here by Cassiau for itidem, as in III. ix. 
 
 3 Ps. cxxxii. (cxxxiii.) 2. 
 
 4 1 Cor. iii. 16 ; vi. 16. 
 
 5 Cant. i. 16 (LXX.). 
 
BOOK IX. 
 
 265 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Whence and in what way dejection arises. 
 
 But sometimes it is found to result from 
 the fault of previous anger, or to spring from 
 the desire of some gain which has not been 
 realized, when a man has found that he has 
 failed in his hope of securing those things 
 which he had planned. But sometimes with- 
 out any apparent reason for our being driven 
 to fall into this misfortune, we are by the 
 instigation of our crafty enemy suddenly de- 
 pressed with so great a gloom that we cannot 
 receive with ordinary civility the visits of 
 those who are near and dear to us ; and what- 
 ever subject of conversation is started by them, 
 we regard it as ill-timed and out of place ; and 
 we can give them no civil answer, as the gall 
 of bitterness is in possession of every corner of 
 our heart. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 That disturbances are caused in us not by the faults of other 
 people, but by our own. 
 
 Whence it is clearly proved that the pains 
 of disturbances are not always caused in us 
 by other people's faults, but rather by our 
 own, as we have stored up in ourselves the 
 causes of offence, and the seeds of faults, 
 which, as soon as a shower of temptation 
 waters our soul, at once burst forth into shoots 
 and fruits. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 That no one comes to grief by a sudden fall, but is destroyed 
 by falling through a long course of carelessness. 1 
 
 For no one is ever driven to sin by being 
 provoked through another's fault, unless he 
 has the fuel of evil stored up in his own heart. 
 Nor should we imagine that a man has been 
 deceived suddenly when he has looked on a 
 woman and fallen into the abyss of shameful 
 lust : but rather that, owing to the opportunity 
 of looking on her, the symptoms of disease 
 which were hidden and concealed in his in- 
 most soul have been brought to the surface. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 That we ought not to give up intercourse with our brethren 
 in order to seek after perfection, but should rather constantly 
 cultivate the virtue of patience. 
 
 And so God, the creator of all things, hav- 
 ing regard above everything to the amendment 
 of His own work, and because the roots and 
 
 1 Incuriam (Petschenig) : Injuriam (Gazaeus). 
 
 causes of our falls are found not in others, but 
 in ourselves, commands that we should not 
 give up intercourse with our brethren, nor 
 avoid those who we think have been hurt by 
 us, or by whom we have been offended, but 
 bids us pacify them, knowing that perfection 
 of heart is not secured by separating from men 
 so much as by the virtue of patience. Which 
 when it is securely held, as it can keep us at 
 peace even with those who hate peace, so, if 
 it has not been acquired, it makes us perpet- 
 ually differ from those who are perfect and 
 better than we are: for opportunities for dis- 
 turbance, on account of which we are eager to 
 get away from those with whom we are con-* 
 nected, will not be wanting so long as we are 
 living among men; and therefore we shall not 
 escape altogether, but only change the causes 
 of dejection on account of which we separated 
 from our former friends. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 That if we have improved our character it is possible for us to 
 get on with everybody. 
 
 We must then do our best to endeavour to 
 amend our faults and correct our manners. 
 And if we succeed in correcting them we shall 
 certainly be at peace, I will not say with men, 
 but even with beasts and the brute creation, 
 according to what is said in the book of the 
 blessed Job: "For the beasts of the field will 
 be at peace with thee; " 2 for we shall not fear 
 offences coming from without, nor will any 
 occasion of falling trouble us from outside, if 
 the roots of such are not admitted and im- 
 planted within in our own selves: for "they 
 have great peace who love thy law, O God; 
 and they have no occasion of falling." 3 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Of another sort of dejection which produces despair of 
 salvation. 
 
 There is, too, another still more objection- 
 able sort of dejection, which produces in the 
 guilty soul no amendment of life or correction 
 of faults, but the most destructive despair : 
 which did not make Cain repent after the 
 murder of his brother, or Judas, after the be- 
 trayal, hasten to relieve himself by making 
 amends, but drove him to hang himself in 
 despair. 
 
 2 Job v. 23. 
 
 3 Ps. cxviii. (cxix. ) 165. 
 
266 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Of the only thing in which dejection is useful to us. 
 
 And so we must see that dejection is only 
 useful to us in one case, when we yield to it 
 either in penitence for sin, or through being 
 inflamed with the desire of perfection, or the 
 contemplation of future blessedness. And of 
 this the blessed Apostle says: "The sorrow 
 which is according to God worketh repentance 
 steadfast unto salvation : but the sorrow of the 
 world worketh death. " x 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 How we can decide what is useful and the sorrow according to 
 God, and what is devilish and deadly. 
 
 But that dejection and sorrow which "work- 
 eth repentance steadfast unto salvation " is 
 obedient, civil, humble, kindly, gentle, and 
 patient, as it springs from the love of God, 
 and unweariedly extends itself from desire of 
 perfection to every bodily grief and sorrow of 
 spirit; and somehow or other rejoicing and 
 feeding on hope of its own profit preserves all 
 the gentleness of courtesy and forbearance, as 
 it has in itself all the fruits of the Holy Spirit 
 of which the same Apostle gives the list : " But 
 the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, for- 
 bearance, goodness, benignity, faith, mildness, 
 aodesty." 2 But the other kind is rough, 
 impatient, hard, full of rancour and useless 
 grief and penal despair, and breaks down the 
 man on whom it has fastened, and hinders 
 him from energy and wholesome sorrow, as it 
 is unreasonable, and not only hampers the 
 efficacy of his prayers, but actually destroys 
 
 all those fruits of the Spirit of which we spoke, 
 which that other sorrow knows how to pro- 
 duce. 
 
 CHAPTER XII.- 
 
 That except that wholesome sorrow, which springs up in three 
 ways, all sorrow and dejection should be resisted as hurtful. 
 
 Wherefore except that sorrow which is 
 endured either for the sake of saving peni- 
 tence, or for the sake of aiming at perfection, 
 or for the desire of the future, all sorrow and 
 dejection must equally be resisted, as belong- 
 ing to this world, and being that which " work- 
 eth death, " and must be entirely expelled from 
 our hearts like the spirit of fornication and 
 covetousness and anger. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The means by which we can root out dejection from our hearts. 
 
 We should then be able to expel this most 
 injurious passion from our hearts, so that by 
 spiritual meditation we may keep our mind 
 constantly occupied with hope of the future 
 and contemplation of the promised blessed- 
 ness. For in this way we shall be able to 
 get the better of all those sorts of dejection, 
 whether those which flow from previous anger 
 or those which come to us from disappoint- 
 ment of gain, or from some loss, or those 
 which spring from a wrong done to us, or those 
 which arise from an unreasonable disturbance 
 of mind, or those which bring on us a deadly 
 despair, if, ever joyful with an insight into 
 things eternal and future, and continuing 
 immovable, we are not depressed by present 
 accidents, or over-elated by prosperity, but 
 look on each condition as uncertain and likely 
 soon to pass away. 
 
 BOOK X. 
 
 OF THE SPIRIT OF ACCIDIE? 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 How our sixth combat is against the spirit of accidie, and what 
 its character is. 
 
 Our sixth combat is with what the Greeks 
 call uy.ijdia, which we may term weariness or 
 distress of heart. This is akin to dejection, 
 and is especially trying to solitaries, and a 
 dangerous and frequent foe to dwellers in the 
 
 1 2 Cor. vii. io, 2 Gal. v. 22, 23. 3 See the note on Bk. V. c. i. 
 
 desert; and especially disturbing to a monk 
 about the sixth hour, like some fever which 
 seizes him at stated times, bringing the burn- 
 ing heat of its attacks on the sick man at 
 usual and regular hours. Lastly, there are 
 some of the elders who declare that this is 
 the "midday demon" spoken of in the nine- 
 tieth Psalm. 4 
 
 4 Ps. xc. (xci.) 6., where the Latin " et dsemonio meridiano " 
 follows the LXX. KaX Saifioviou ^ecrrj^^pivoii, instead of " the de- 
 struction that wasteth at noonday." 
 
BOOK X. 
 
 267 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A description of accidie, and the way in which it creeps over 
 the heart of a monk, and the injury it inflicts on the soul. 
 
 And when this has taken possession of 
 some unhappy soul, it produces dislike of the 
 place, disgust with the cell, and disdain and 
 contempt of the brethren who dwell with him 
 or at a little distance, as if they were careless 
 or unspiritual. It also makes the man lazy 
 and sluggish about all manner of work which 
 has to be done within the enclosure of his 
 dormitory. It does not suffer him to stay in 
 his cell, or to take any pains about reading, 
 and he often groans because he can do no 
 good while he stays there, and complains and 
 sighs because he can bear no spiritual fruit 
 so long as he is joined to that society; and he 
 complains that he is cut off from spiritual 
 gain, and is of no use in the place, as if he 
 were one who, though he could govern others 
 and be useful to a great number of people, 
 yet was edifying none, nor profiting any one 
 by his teaching and doctrine. He cries up 
 distant monasteries and those which are a 
 long way off, and describes such places as 
 more profitable and better suited for salvation; 
 and besides this he paints the intercourse 
 with the brethren there as sweet and full of 
 spiritual life. On the other hand, he says 
 that everything about him is rough, and not 
 only that there is nothing edifying among the 
 brethren who are stopping there, but also that 
 even food for the body cannot be procured 
 without great difficulty. Lastly he fancies 
 that he will never be well while he stays in 
 that place, unless he leaves his cell (in which 
 he is sure to die if he stops in it any longer) 
 and takes himself off from thence as quickly 
 as possible. Then the fifth or sixth hour 
 brings him such bodily weariness and longing 
 for food that he seems to himself worn out 
 and wearied as if with a long journey, or some 
 very heavy work, or as if he had put off taking 
 food during a fast of two or three days. Then 
 besides this he looks about anxiously this way 
 and that, and sighs that none of the brethren 
 come to see him, and often goes in and out of 
 his cell, and frequently gazes up at the sun, 
 as if it was too slow in setting, and so a kind 
 of unreasonable confusion of mind takes pos- 
 session of him like some foul darkness, 1 and 
 makes him idle and useless for every spiritual 
 work, so that he imagines that no cure for so 
 terrible an attack can be found in anything 
 except visiting some one of the brethren, or 
 in the solace of sleep alone. Then the disease 
 
 1 Velut tcetra suppletur caligine (Petschenig) ; the text of Ga- 
 zseus reads terra for tcetra. 
 
 suggests that he ought to show courteous and 
 friendly hospitalities to the brethren, and pay 
 visits to the sick, whether near at hand or far 
 off. He talks too about some dutiful and 
 religious offices; that those kinsfolk ought to 
 be inquired after, and that he ought to go and 
 see them oftener; that it would be a real work 
 of piety to go more frequently to visit that 
 religious woman, devoted to the service of 
 God, who is deprived of all support of kindred ; 
 and that it would be a most excellent thing to 
 get what is needful for her who is neglected 
 and despised by her own kinsfolk ; and that 
 he ought piously to devote his time to these 
 things instead of staying uselessly and with 
 no profit in his cell. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Of the different ways in which accidie overcomes a monk. 
 
 And so the wretched soul, embarrassed by 
 such contrivances of the enemy, is disturbed, 
 until, worn out by the spirit of accidie, as by 
 some strong battering ram, it either learns to 
 sink into slumber, or, driven out from the 
 confinement of its cell, accustoms itself to 
 seek for consolation under these attacks in 
 visiting some brother, only to be afterwards 
 weakened the more by this remedy which it 
 seeks for the present. For more frequently 
 and more severely will the enemy attack one 
 who, when the battle is joined, will as he well 
 knows immediately turn his back, and whom he 
 sees to look for safety neither in victory nor 
 in fighting but in flight: until little by little 
 he is drawn away from his cell, and begins to 
 forget the object of his profession, which is 
 nothing but meditation and contemplation of 
 that divine purity which excels all things, and 
 which can only be gained by silence and con- 
 tinually remaining in the cell, and by medita- 
 tion, and so the soldier of Christ becomes a 
 runaway from His service, and a deserter, and 
 " entangles himself in secular business," with- 
 out at all pleasing Him to whom he engaged 
 himself. 2 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 How accidie hinders the mind from all contemplation of the 
 virtues. 
 
 All the inconveniences of this disease are 
 admirably expressed by David in a single 
 verse, where he says, " My soul slept from 
 weariness," 3 that is, from accidie. Quite 
 
 2 2 Tim. ii. 4. 
 
 3 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 28, where the LXX. has kvxxna^tv rj 4 /v XV 
 jlcou airb aK7)5tas. 
 
268 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 rightly does he say, not that his body, but that 
 his soul slept. For in truth the soul which 
 is wounded by the shaft of this passion does 
 sleep, as regards all contemplation of the vir- 
 , tues and insight of the spiritual senses. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 How the attack of accidie is twofold. 
 
 And so the true Christian athlete who de- 
 sires to strive lawfully in the lists of perfec- 
 tion, should hasten to expel this disease also 
 trom the recesses of his soul; and should 
 strive against this most evil spirit of accidie 
 in both directions, so that he may neither fall 
 stricken through by the shaft of slumber, nor 
 be driven out from the monastic cloister, even 
 though under some pious excuse or pretext, 
 and depart as a runaway. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 How injurious are the effects of accidie. 
 
 And whenever it begins in any degree to 
 overcome any one, it either makes him stay in 
 his cell idle and lazy, without making any 
 spiritual progress, or it drives him out from 
 thence and makes him restless and a wan- 
 derer, and indolent in the matter of all kinds 
 of work, and it makes him continually go 
 round the cells of the brethren and the mon- 
 asteries, with an eye to nothing but this; viz., 
 where or with what excuse he can presently 
 procure some refreshment. For the mind of 
 an idler cannot think of anything but food 
 and the belly, until the society of some man 
 or woman, equally cold and indifferent, is 
 secured, and it loses itself in their affairs and 
 business, and is thus little by little ensnared 
 by dangerous occupations, so that, just as if 
 it were bound up in the coils of a serpent, it 
 can never disentangle itself again and return 
 to the perfection of its former profession. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Testimonies from the Apostle concerning the spirit of accidie. 
 
 The blessed Apostle, like a true and spir- 
 itual physician, either seeing this disease, 
 which springs from the spirit of accidie, al- 
 ready creeping in, or foreseeing, through the 
 revelation of the .Holy Spirit, that it would 
 arise among monks, is quick to anticipate it 
 by the healing medicines of his directions. 
 
 For in writing to the Thessalonians, and at 
 first, like a skilful and excellent physician, 
 applying to the infirmity of his patients the 
 soothing and gentle remedy of his words, and 
 beginning with charity, and praising them in 
 that point, that 1 this deadly wound, having 
 been treated with a milder remedy, might lose 
 its angry festering and more easily bear severer 
 treatment, he says : " But concerning brotherly 
 charity ye have no need that I write to you : 
 for you yourselves are taught of God to love 
 one another. For this ye do toward all the 
 brethren in the whole of Macedonia." 12 He 
 first began with the soothing application of 
 praise, and made their ears submissive and 
 ready for the remedy of the healing words. 
 Then he proceeds : " But we ask you, brethren, 
 to abound more." Thus far he soothes them 
 with kind and gentle words; for fear lest he 
 should find them not yet prepared to receive 
 their perfect cure. Why is it that you ask, 
 O Apostle, that they may abound more in 
 charity, of which you had said above, " But 
 concerning brotherly charity we have no need 
 to write to you " ? And why is it necessary 
 that you should say to them: "But we ask 
 you to abound more," when they did not need 
 to be written to at all on this matter? especially 
 as you add the reason why they do not need 
 it, saying, " For you yourselves have been 
 taught of God to love one another." And 
 you add a third thing still more important: 
 that not only have they been taught of God, 
 but also that they fulfil in deed that which 
 they are taught. "For ye do this," he says, 
 not to one or two, but "to all the brethren; " 
 and not to your own citizens and friends only, 
 but " in the whole of Macedonia." Tell us 
 then, I pray, why it is that you so particularly 
 begin with this. Again he proceeds, "But 
 we ask you, brethren, to abound the more." 
 And with difficulty at last he breaks out into 
 that at which he was driving before: "and 
 that ye take pains to be quiet." He gave the 
 first aim. Then he adds a second, "and to 
 do your own business; " and a third as well: 
 "and work with your own hands, as we com- 
 manded you ; " a fourth : " and to walk hon- 
 estly towards those that are without ; " a fifth : 
 "and to covet no man's goods." Lo ; . we can 
 see through that hesitation, which made him 
 with these preludes put off uttering what his 
 mind was full of: "And that ye take pains to 
 be quiet;" i.e., that you stop in your cells, and 
 be not disturbed by rumours, which generally 
 spring from the wishes and gossip of idle 
 persons, and so yourselves disturb others. 
 
 1 Qtiottsque is used as equivalent to donee, again in Conf. XXIII. 
 xii. 
 
 2 i Thess. iv. 9, 10. 
 
 
BOOK X. 
 
 269 
 
 And, "to do your own business," you should 
 not want to inquire curiously of the world's 
 actions, or, examining the lives of others, 
 want to spend your strength, not on bettering 
 yourselves and aiming at virtue, but on depre- 
 ciating your brethren. " And work with your 
 own hands, as we charged you ; " to secure that 
 which he had warned them above not to do ; 
 i.e., that they should not be restless and 
 anxious about other people's affairs, nor walk 
 dishonestly towards those without, nor covet 
 another man's goods, he now adds and says, 
 " and work with your own hands, as we charged 
 you." For he lias clearly shown that leisure 
 is the reason why those things were done which 
 he blamed above. For no one can be restless 
 or anxious about other people's affairs, but 
 one who is not satisfied to apply himself to 
 the work of his own hands. He adds also 
 a fourth evil, which springs also from this 
 leisure, i.e., that they should not walk dis- 
 honestly : when he says : " And that ye walk 
 honestly towards those without." He cannot 
 possibly walk honestly, even among those who 
 are men of this world, who is not content to 
 cling to the seclusion of his cell and the 
 work of his own hands ; but he is sure to be 
 dishonest, while he seeks his needful food; 
 and to take pains to flatter, to follow up news 
 and gossip, to seek for opportunities for chat- 
 tering and stories by means of which he may 
 gain a footing and obtain an entrance into the 
 houses of others. "And that you should not 
 covet another man's goods." He is sure to 
 look with envious eyes on another's gifts and 
 boons, who does not care to secure sufficient 
 for his daily food by the dutiful and peaceful 
 labour of his hands. You see what conditions, 
 and how serious and shameful ones, spring 
 solely from the malady of leisure. Lastly, 
 those very people, whom in his first Epistle 
 he had treated with the gentle application 
 of his words, in his second Epistle he en- 
 deavours to heal with severer and sterner 
 remedies, as those who had not profited by 
 more gentle treatment; and he no longer 
 applies the treatment of gentle words, no mild 
 and kindly expressions, as these, " But we 
 ask you, brethren," but "We adjure you, breth- 
 ren, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
 that ye withdraw from every brother that 
 walketh disorderly." 1 There he asks; here 
 he adjures. There is the kindness of one 
 who is persuading; here the sternness of one 
 protesting and threatening. "We adjure you, 
 brethren : " because, when ve first asked you, 
 you scorned to listen; now at least obey our 
 threats. And this adjuration he renders ter- 
 
 1 2 Thess. iii. 6. 
 
 rible, not by his bare word, but by the impre- 
 cation of the name of our Lord Jesus Christ: 
 for fear lest they might again scorn it, as 
 merely man's word, and think that it was not 
 of much importance. And forthwith, like a 
 well-skilled physician with festering limbs, to 
 which he could not apply the remedy of a mild 
 treatment, he tries to cure by an incision with 
 a spiritual knife, saying, "that ye withdraw 
 yourselves from every brother that walketh 
 disorderly, and not according to the tradition 
 which ye received of us." And so he bids 
 them withdraw from those who will not make 
 time for work, and to cut them off like limbs 
 tainted with the festering sores of leisure : lest 
 the malady of idleness, like some deadly con- 
 tagion, might infect even the healthy portion 
 of their limbs, by the gradual advance of in- 
 fection. And when he is going to speak of 
 those who will not work with their own hands 
 and eat their bread in quietness, from whom 
 he urges them to withdraw, hear with what 
 reproaches he brands them at starting. First 
 he calls them "disorderly," and "not walking 
 according to the tradition." In other words, 
 he stigmatizes them as obstinate, since they 
 will not walk according to his appointment; 
 and "dishonest," i.e., not keeping to the right 
 and proper times for going out, and visiting, 
 and talking. For a disorderly person is sure 
 to be subject to all those faults. "And not 
 according to the tradition which they received 
 from us." And in this he stamps them as 
 in some sort rebellious, and despisers, who 
 scorned to keep the tradition which they had 
 received from him, and would not follow that 
 which they not only remembered that the 
 master had taught in word, but which they 
 knew that he had performed in deed. " For 
 you yourselves know how ye ought to be fol- 
 lowers of us." He heaps up an immense pile 
 of censure when he asserts that they did not 
 observe that which was still in their memory, 
 and which not only had they learned by verbal 
 instruction, but also had received by the in- 
 citement of his example in working. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 That he is sure to be restless who will not be content with the 
 work of his own hands. 
 
 " Because we were not restless among you." 
 When he wants to prove by the practice of 
 work that he was not restless among them, he 
 fully shows that those who will not work are 
 always restless, owing to the fault of idleness. 
 " Nor did we eat any man's bread for nought." 
 By each expression the teacher of the Gentiles 
 
270 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 advances a step in the rebuke. 1 The preacher 
 of the gospel says that he has not eaten any 
 man's bread for nought, as he knows that the 
 Lord commanded that "they who preach the 
 gospel should live of the gospel : " 2 and again, 
 "The labourer is worthy of his meat." 3 And 
 so if he who preached the gospel, performing 
 a work so lofty and spiritual, did not venture 
 in reliance on the Lord's command to eat his 
 bread for nought, what shall we do to whom 
 not merely is there no preaching of the word 
 intrusted, but no cure of souls except our own 
 committed ? with what confidence shall we dare 
 with idle hands to eat our bread for nought, 
 when the "chosen vessel," constrained by his 
 anxiety for the gospel and his work of preach- 
 ing, did not venture to eat without labouring 
 with his own hands? "But in labour," he 
 says, "and weariness, working night and day 
 lest we should be burdensome to any of you." 4 
 Up to this point he amplifies and adds to his 
 rebuke. For he did not simply say, "We did 
 not eat bread for nought from any of you," 
 and then stop short. For it might have been 
 thought that he was supported by his own pri- 
 vate means, and by money which he had saved, 
 or by other people's, though not by their col- 
 lections and gifts. "But in labour," he says, 
 "and weariness, working night and day; " that 
 is, being specially supported by our own 
 labour. And this, he says, we did not of our 
 own wish, and for our own pleasure, as rest 
 and bodily exercise suggested, but as our 
 necessities and the want of food compelled 
 us to do, and that not without great bodily 
 weariness. For not only throughout the whole 
 day, but also by night, which seems to be 
 granted for bodily rest, I was continually ply- 
 ing the work of my hands, through anxiety for 
 food. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 That not the Apostle only, but those two who were with him 
 laboured with their own hands. 
 
 And he testifies that it was not he alone 
 who so lived among them, lest haply this 
 method might not seem important or general 
 if he depended only on his example. But he 
 declares that all those who were appointed 
 with him for the ministry of the gospel, i.e., 
 Silvanus and Timothy, who wrote this with 
 him, worked in the same fashion. For by 
 saying, " lest we should be burdensome to 
 any of you, " he covers them with great shame. 
 For if he who preached the gospel and com- 
 
 1 Increpationis (Petschenig). 
 
 2 1 Cor. ix. 14. 
 
 3 S. Matt. x. 10. 
 
 4 2 Thess. iii. 8. 
 
 hiterpretationis (Gazseus). 
 
 mended it by signs and mighty works, did not 
 dare to eat bread for nought, lest he should 
 be burdensome to any, how can those men 
 help thinking that they are burdensome who 
 take it every day in idleness and at their 
 leisure? 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 That for this reason the Apostle laboured with his own hands, 
 that he might set us an example of work. 
 
 " Not as if we had not power ; but that we 
 might give ourselves a pattern to you to imi- 
 tate us." He lays bare the reason why he 
 imposed such labour on himself: "that we 
 might," says he, "give a pattern to you to 
 imitate us," that if by chance you become for- 
 getful of the teaching of our words which so 
 often passes through your ears, you may at 
 least keep in your recollection the example of 
 my manner of life given to you by ocular dem- 
 onstration. There is here too no slight reproof 
 of them, where he says that he has gone through 
 this labour and weariness by night and day, 
 for no other reason but to set an example, and 
 that nevertheless they would not be instructed, 
 for whose sakes he, although not obliged to do 
 it, yet imposed on himself such toil. "And 
 indeed," he says, "though we had the power, 
 and opportunities were open to us of using all 
 your goods and substance, and I knew that I 
 had the permission 5 of our Lord to use them: 
 yet I did not use this power, lest what was 
 rightly and lawfully done on my part might 
 set an example of dangerous idleness to others. 
 And therefore when preaching the gospel, I 
 preferred to be supported by my own hands 
 and work, that I might open up the way of 
 perfection to you who wish to walk in the path 
 of virtue, and might set an example of good 
 life by my work." 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 That he preached and taught men to work not only by his 
 example, but also by his words. 
 
 But lest haply it might be thought that, 
 while he worked in silence and tried to teach 
 them by example, he had not instructed them 
 by precepts and warnings, he proceeds to say : 
 " For when we were with you, this we declared 
 to you, that if a man will not work neither 
 should he eat." Still greater does he make 
 their idleness appear, for, though they knew 
 that he, like a good master, worked with his 
 hands for the sake of his teaching and in order 
 to instruct them, yet they were ashamed to 
 
 5 Permissum (Petschenig). Promissvm (Gazsus). 
 
BOOK X. 
 
 271 
 
 imitate him; and he emphasizes our diligence 
 and care by saying that he did not only give 
 them this for an example when present, but 
 that he also proclaimed it continually in 
 words; saying that if any one would not 
 work, neither should he eat. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Of his saying : " If any will not work, neither shall he eat." 
 
 And now he no longer addresses to them 
 the advice of a teacher or physician, but pro- 
 ceeds with the severity of a judicial sentence, 
 and, resuming his apostolic authority, pro- 
 nounces sentence on his despisers as if from 
 the judgment seat: with that power, I mean, 
 which, when writing with threats to the Co- 
 rinthians, he declared was given him of the 
 Lord, when* he charged those taken in sin, 
 that they should make haste and amend their 
 lives before his coming : thus charging them, 
 " I beseech you that I may not be bold when 
 I am present, against some, with that power 
 which is given to me over you." And again: 
 " For if I also should boast somewhat of the 
 power which the Lord has given me unto edi- 
 fication, and not for your destruction, I shall 
 not be ashamed." 1 With that power, I say, 
 he declares, " If a man will not work, neither 
 let him eat. " Not punishing them with a car- 
 nal sword, but with the power of the Holy 
 Ghost forbidding them the goods of this life, 
 that if by chance, thinking but little of the 
 punishment of future death, they still should 
 remain obstinate through love of ease, they 
 may at last, forced by the requirements of 
 nature and the fear of immediate death, be 
 compelled to obey his salutary charge. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Of his saying : " We have heard that some among you walk 
 disorderly." 
 
 Then after all this rigour of gospel severity, 
 he now lays bare the reason why he put for- 
 ward all these matters. " For we have heard 
 that some among you walk disorderly, working 
 not at all, but curiously meddling." He is 
 nowhere satisfied to speak of those who will 
 not give themselves up to work, as if they were 
 victims of but a single malady. For in his 
 first Epistle 2 he speaks of them as " disorderly, " 
 and not walking according to the traditions 
 which they had received from him: and he 
 
 1 Cor. x. 2, 8. 
 
 2 A mistake on Cassian's part : the reference being to 2 Thess. 
 iii. 6. 
 
 also asserts that they were restless, and ate 
 their bread for nought. Again he says here, 
 " We have heard that there are some among 
 you who walk disorderly." And at once he 
 subjoins a second weakness, which is the root 
 of this restlessness, and says, "working not 
 at all ; " a third malady as well he adds, which 
 springs from this last like some shoot: "but 
 curiously meddling." 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 How manual labour 3 prevents many faults. 
 
 And so he loses no time in at once apply- 
 ing a suitable remedy to the incentive to so 
 many faults, and laying aside that apostolic 
 power of his which he had made use of a little 
 before, he adopts once more the tender char- 
 acter of a good father, or of a kind physician, 
 and, as if they were his children or his pa- 
 tients, applies by his healing counsel remedies 
 to cure them, saying : " Now we charge them 
 that are such, and beseech them by the Lord 
 Jesus, that working with silence they would 
 eat their own bread." The cause of all these 
 ulcers, which spring from the root of idleness, 
 he heals like some well-skilled physician by 
 a single salutary charge to work; as he knows 
 that all the other bad symptoms, which spring 
 as it were from the same clump, will at once 
 diappear when the cause of the chief malady 
 has been removed. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 How kindness should be shown even to the idle and careless. 
 
 Nevertheless, like a far-sighted and care- 
 ful physician, he is not only anxious to heal 
 the wounds of the sick, but gives suitable 
 directions as well to the whole, that their 
 health maybe preserved continually, and says: 
 " But be not ye weary in well doing: " ye who 
 following us, i.e., our ways, copy the example 
 given to you by imitating us in work, and do 
 not follow their sloth and laziness: "Do not 
 be weary in well doing;" i.e., do you like- 
 wise show kindness towards them if by chance 
 they have failed to observe what we said. As 
 then he was severe with those who were 
 weak, for fear lest being enervated by laziness 
 they might yield to restlessness and inquisi- 
 tiveness, so he admonishes those who are in 
 good health neither to restrain that kindness 
 
 3 The text of Gazaeus has oratio, but the reading which Pet- 
 schenig gives, operatio manuum, is clearly so. 
 
272 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 which the Lord's command bids us show to 
 the good and evil, 1 even if some bad men will 
 not turn to sound doctrine; nor to desist from 
 doing good and encouraging them both by 
 words of consolation and by rebuke as well 
 as by ordinary kindness and civility. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 How we ought to admonish those who go wrong, not out of 
 hatred, but out of love. 
 
 But again in case some might be encouraged 
 by this gentleness, and scorn to obey his com- 
 mands, he proceeds with the severity of an 
 apostle : " But if any man obey not our word 
 by this Epistle, note that man and do not keep 
 company with him that he may be ashamed." 
 And in warning them of what they ought to 
 observe out of regard for him and for the good 
 of all, and of the care with which they should 
 keep the apostolic commands, at once he joins 
 to the warning the kindness of a most indul- 
 gent father; and teaches them as well, as if 
 they were his children, what a brotherly dis- 
 position they should cultivate towards those 
 mentioned above, out of love. "Yet do not 
 esteem him as an enemy, but admonish him 
 as a brother." With the severity of a judge 
 he combines the affection of a father, and 
 tempers with kindness and gentleness the sen- 
 tence delivered with apostolic sternness. For 
 he commands them to note that man who 
 scorns to obey his commands, and not to keep 
 company with him; and yet he does not bid 
 them do this from a wrong feeling of dislike, 
 but from brotherly affection and out of consid- 
 eration for their amendment. " Do not keep 
 company," he says, "with him that he may 
 be ashamed; " so that, even if he is not made 
 better by my mild charges, he may at last be 
 brought to shame by being publicly separated 
 from all of you, and so may some day begin 
 to be restored to the way of salvation. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Different passages in which the Apostle declares that we ought 
 to work, or in which it is shown that he himself worked. 
 
 In the Epistle to the Ephesians also he thus 
 gives a charge on this subject of work, saying: 
 " He that stole, let him now steal no more, 
 but rather let him labour, working with his 
 hands the thing that is good, that he may have 
 something to give to him that suffereth need." " 
 And in the Acts of the Apostles too we find 
 
 1 S. Matt. v. 43-45- 
 
 2 Eph. iv. 28. 
 
 that he not only taught this, but actually prac- 
 tised it himself. For when he had come to 
 Corinth, he did not permit himself to lodge 
 anywhere except with Aquila and Priscilla, 
 because they were of the same trade which he 
 himself was accustomed to practise. For we 
 thus read: "After this, Paul departing from 
 Athens came to Corinth; and finding a certain 
 Jew named Aquila, born in Pontus, and Pris- 
 cilla his wife, he came to them because they 
 were of the same trade ; and abode with them, 
 and worked: for they were tent-makers by 
 trade." 3 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 That the Apostle wrought what he thought would be sufficient 
 for him and for others who were with him. 
 
 Then going to Miletus, and from thence 
 sending to Ephesus, and summoning to him 
 the elders of the church of Ephesus, he 
 charged them how they ought to rule the 
 church of God in his absence, and said: "I 
 have not coveted any man's silver and gold; 
 you yourselves know how for such things as 
 were needful for me and them that are with 
 me these hands have ministered. I have 
 showed you all things, how that so labouring 
 you ought to support the weak, and to remem- 
 ber the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said : 
 It is more blessed to give than to receive." 4 
 He left us a weighty example in his manner 
 of life, as he testifies that he not only wrought 
 what would supply his own bodily wants alone, 
 but also what would be sufficient for the needs 
 of those who were with him: those, I mean, 
 who, being taken up with necessary duties, 
 had no chance of procuring food for themselves 
 with their own hands. And as he tells the 
 Thessalonians that he had worked to give 
 them an example that they might imitate him, 
 so here too he implies something of the same 
 sort when he says : "I have showed you all 
 things, how that so labouring you ought to 
 support the weak, " viz., whether in mind or 
 body; i.e., that we should be diligent in sup- 
 plying their needs, not from the store of our 
 abundance, or money laid by, or from another's 
 generosity and substance, but rather by secur- 
 ing the necessary sum by our own labour and 
 toil. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 How we should understand these words : " It is more blessed 
 to give than to receive." 
 
 And he says that this is a command of the 
 Lord: "For He Himself," namely the Lord 
 
 3 Acts xviii. 1-3. 
 
 i Acts xx. 33-35. 
 
BOOK X. 
 
 27; 
 
 Jesus, said he, "said it is more blessed to 
 give than to receive." That is, the bounty of 
 the giver is more blessed than the need of the 
 receiver, where the gift is not supplied from 
 money that has been kept back through unbe- 
 lief or faithlessness, nor from the stored-up 
 treasures of avarice, but is produced from the 
 fruits of our own labour and honest toil. And 
 so "it is more blessed to give than to receive, " 
 because while the giver shares the poverty of 
 the receiver, yet still he is diligent in provid- 
 ing with pious care by his own toil, not merely 
 enough for his own needs, but also what he 
 can give to one in want ; and so he is adorned 
 with a double grace, since by giving away all 
 his goods he secures the perfect abnegation of 
 Christ, and yet by his labour and thought dis- 
 plays the generosity of the rich ; thus honouring 
 God by his honest labours, and plucking for 
 him the fruits of his righteousness, while an- 
 other, enervated by sloth and indolent laziness, 
 proves himself by the saying of the Apostle 
 unworthy of food, as in defiance of his com- 
 mand he takes it in idleness, not without the 
 guilt of sin and of obstinacy. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Of a lazy brother who tried to persuade others to leave the 
 monastery. 
 
 We know a brother, whose name we would 
 give if it would do any good, who, although he 
 was remaining in the monastery and compelled 
 to deliver to the steward his fixed task daily, 
 yet for fear lest he might be led on to some 
 larger portion of work, or put to shame by the 
 example of one labouring more zealously, when 
 he had seen some brother admitted into the 
 monastery, who in the ardour of his faith wanted 
 to make up the sale of a larger piece of work, 
 if he found that he could not by secret persua- 
 sion check him from carrying out his purpose, 
 he would by bad advice and whisperings per- 
 suade him to depart thence. And in order to 
 get rid of him more easily he would pretend 
 that he also had already been for many reasons 
 offended, and wanted to leave, if only he could 
 find a companion and support for the journey. 
 And when by secretly running down the mon- 
 astery he had wheedled him into consenting, 
 and arranged with him the time at which to 
 leave the monastery, and the place to which 
 he should go before, and where he should wait 
 for him, he himself, pretending that he would 
 follow, stopped where he was. And when the 
 other out of shame for his flight did not dare 
 to return again to the monastery from which 
 he had run away, the miserable author of his 
 
 flight stopped behind in the monastery. It 
 will be enough to have given this single in- 
 stance of this sort of men in order to put 
 beginners on their guard, and to show clearly 
 what evils idleness, as Scripture says, 1 can 
 produce in the mind of a monk, and how "evil 
 communications corrupt good manners." 2 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 Different passages from the writings of Solomon against accidie. 
 
 And Solomon, the wisest of men, clearly 
 points to this fault of idleness in many pas- 
 sages, as he says : " He that followeth idleness 
 shall be filled with poverty," 3 either visible 
 or invisible, in which an idle person and one 
 entangled with different faults is sure to be 
 involved, and he will always be a stranger to 
 the contemplation of God, and to spiritual 
 riches, of which the blessed Apostle says : 
 "For in all things ye were enriched in him, 
 in all utterance and in all knowledge." 4 But 
 concerning this poverty of the idler elsewhere 
 he also writes thus: "Every sluggard shall be 
 clothed in torn garments and rags." 5 For 
 certainly he will not merit to be adorned with 
 that garment of incorruption (of which the 
 Apostle says, " Put ye on the Lord Jesus 
 Christ," 6 and again: "Being clothed in the 
 breastplate of righteousness and charity," 7 
 concerning which the Lord Himself also speaks 
 to Jerusalem by the prophet: "Arise, arise, O 
 Jerusalem, put on the garments of thyglory)," 8 
 whoever, overpowered by lazy slumber or by 
 accidie, prefers to be clothed, not by his labour 
 and industry, but in the rags of idleness, which 
 he tears off from the solid piece and body of 
 the Scriptures, and fits on to his sloth no gar- 
 ment of glory and honour, but an ignominious 
 cloak and excuse. For those, who are affected 
 by this laziness, and do not like to support 
 themselves by the labour of their own hands, 
 as the Apostle continually did and charged us 
 to do, are wont to make use of certain Scrip- 
 ture proofs by which they try to cloak their 
 idleness, saying that it is written, " Labour 
 not for the meat that perisheth, but for that 
 which remains to life eternal;" 9 and "My 
 meat is to do the will of my Father." 10 But 
 these proofs are (as it were) rags, from the 
 
 1 The reference is probably to Ecclus. xxiii. 29, 
 taught much evil." 
 
 2 1 Cor. xv. 33. 
 
 3 Prov. xxviii. 19. 
 
 4 1 Cor. i. 5. 
 
 5 Prov. xxiii. 21 (LXX.). 
 
 6 Rom. xiii. 14. 
 
 7 1 Thess. v. 8. 
 
 8 Is. Hi. 1. 
 
 9 S. John vi. 27. 
 10 S. John iv. 34. 
 
 Idleness hath 
 
2 74 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 solid piece of the gospel, which are adopted 
 for this purpose, viz., to cover the disgrace of 
 our idleness and shame rather than to keep 
 us warm, and adorn us with that costly and 
 splendid garment of virtue which that wise 
 woman in the Proverbs, who was clothed with 
 strength and beauty, is said to have made 
 either for herself or for her husband; of which 
 presently it is said: " Strength and beauty are 
 her clothing, and she rejoices in the latter 
 days." 1 Of this evil of idleness Solomon 
 thus makes mention again : " The ways of the 
 idlers are strown with thorns;" 2 i.e., with 
 these and similar faults, which the Apostle 
 above declared to spring from idleness. And 
 again: "Every sluggard is always in want." 8 
 And of these the Apostle makes mention when 
 he says, " And that you want nothing of any 
 man's." 4 And finally: "For idleness has 
 been the teacher of many evils : " 5 which the 
 Apostle has clearly enumerated in the passage 
 which he expounded above: "Working not at 
 all, but curiously meddling." To this fault 
 also he joins another: "And that ye study to 
 be quiet;" and then, "that ye should do your 
 own business and walk honestly towards them 
 that are without, and that you want nothing 
 of any man's." Those also whom he notes 
 as disorderly and rebellious, from these he 
 charges those who are earnest to separate 
 themselves: " That ye withdraw yourselves," 
 says he, "from every brother that walketh 
 disorderly and not according to the tradition 
 which they received from us." 6 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 How the brethren in Egypt work with their hands, not only to 
 supply their own needs, but also to minister to those who are 
 in prison. 
 
 And so taught by these examples the Fathers 
 in Egypt never allow monks, and especially 
 the younger ones, to be idle, 7 estimating the 
 purpose of their hearts and their growth in 
 
 1 Prov. xxxi. 25 (LXX.). 
 
 2 Prov. xv. 19 (LXX.). 
 
 3 Prov. xiii. 4 (LXX.). 
 
 4 1 Thess. iv. n. 
 
 5 Ecclus. xxxiii. 29. 
 
 6 2 Thess. iii. 11; 6; 1 Thess. iv. n. 
 
 1 The monks of Egypt were famous for their labours, and Cas- 
 sian's language might be illustrated from many passages in the 
 leathers ; e.g., Epiphanius, in his third book against heresies, com- 
 pares the monks, and especially those in Egypt, to bees, because of 
 their diligence. So S. Jerome, writing to Rusticus (Ep. cxxv.), 
 says that no one is received in a monaster)' in Egypt unless he will 
 work, and that this rule is made for the good of the soul rather than 
 for the sake of providing food. Compare also Sozomen H. E. VI. 
 xxviii., where it is said of Serapion and his followers in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Arsinoe that "they lived on the produce of their 
 labour and provided for the poor. During harvest-time they busied 
 themselves in reaping : they set aside sufficient com for their own 
 use, and furnished grain gratuitously for the other monks." S. 
 Basil also, in his Monastic Constitutions cc. iv. and v., speaks 
 strongly of the value of labour; and the Rule of S. Benedict 
 (c. xlviii.) enjoins that "as idleness is the enemy of the soul, the 
 brethren are to be employed alternately in manual labour and pious 
 reading." 
 
 patience and humility by their diligence in 
 work; and they not only do not allow them to 
 receive anything from another to supply their 
 own wants, but further, they not merely refresh 
 pilgrims and brethren who come to visit them 
 by means of their labours, but actually collect 
 an enormous store of provisions and food, and 
 distribute it in the parts of Libya which suf- 
 fer from famine and barrenness, and also in 
 the cities, to those who are pining away in the 
 squalor of prison; as they believe that by 
 such an offering of the fruit of their hands 
 they offer a reasonable and true sacrifice to 
 the Lord. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 That idleness is the reason why there are not monasteries for 
 monks in the West. 
 
 Hence it is that in these countries we see 
 no monasteries found with such numbers of 
 brethren : for they are not supported by the 
 resources of their own labour in such a way 
 that they can remain in them continually ; and 
 if in some way or other, through the liberality 
 of another, there should be a sufficient pro- 
 vision to supply them, yet love of ease and 
 restlessness of heart does not suffer them to 
 continue long in the place. Whence this 
 saying has been handed down from the old 
 fathers in Egypt: that a monk who works is 
 attacked by but one devil; but an idler is 
 tormented by countless spirits. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Of Abbot Paul 8 who every year burnt with fire all the works 
 of his hands. 
 
 Lastly, Abbot Paul, one of the greatest 
 of the Fathers, while he was living in a vast 
 desert which is called the Porphyrian desert, 9 
 and being relieved from anxiety by the date 
 palms and a small garden, had plenty to sup- 
 port himself, and an ample supply of food, 
 and could not find any other work to do, 
 which would support him, because his dwell- 
 ing was separated from towns and inhabited 
 districts by seven days 'journey, 10 or even more, 
 through the desert, and more would be asked 
 for the carriage of the goods than the price of 
 the work would be worth; he collected the 
 leaves of the palms, and regularly exacted of 
 himself his daily task, as if he was to be sup- 
 
 8 This Paul is perhaps the same as the one mentioned in connec- 
 tion with Abbot Moses in Conference VII. xxvi. As he was a con- 
 temporary of Cassian he must be carefully distinguished fromhis 
 more illustrious namesakes, the first hermit and the disciple of S. 
 Antonv. 
 
 9 Also called the desert of Calamus, Conference XXIV. iv., but 
 its position has not been ascertained. 
 
 10 Mansio used here and again in Conference XXIV. iv. for the 
 stage of a day's journey. 
 
BOOK XL 
 
 275 
 
 ported by it. And when his cave had been 
 filled with a whole year's work, each year he 
 would burn with fire that at which he had so 
 diligently laboured : thus proving that without 
 manual labour a monk cannot stop in a place 
 nor rise to the heights of perfection : so that, 
 though the need for food did not require this 
 to be done, yet he performed it simply for the 
 sake of purifying his heart, and strengthening 
 his thoughts, and persisting in his cell, and 
 gaining a victory over accidie and driving it 
 away. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 The words of Abbot Moses which he said to me about the cure 
 of accidie. 
 
 When I was beginning my stay in the desert, 
 and had said to Abbot Moses, the chief of all 
 
 the saints, that I had been terribly troubled 
 yesterday by an attack of accidie, and that I 
 could only be freed from it by running at once 
 to Abbot Paul, he said, "You have not freed 
 yourself from it, but rather have given your- 
 self up to it as its slave and subject. For the 
 enemy will henceforth attack you more strongly 
 as a deserter and runaway, since it has seen 
 that you fled at once when overcome in the 
 conflict: unless on a second occasion when 
 you join battle with it you make up your mind 
 not to dispel its attacks and heats for the 
 moment by deserting your cell, or by the in- 
 activity of sleep, but rather learn to triumph 
 over it by endurance and conflict." Whence 
 it is proved by experience that a fit of accidie 
 should not be evaded by running away from 
 it, but overcome by resisting it. 1 
 
 BOOK XL 
 
 OF THE SPIRIT OF VAINGIORY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 How our seventh combat is against the spirit of vainglory, 
 and what its nature is. 
 
 Our seventh combat is against the spirit of 
 xsvodo£;iu, which we may term vain or idle 
 glory: a spirit that takes many shapes, and 
 is changeable and subtle, so that it can with 
 difficulty, I will not say be guarded against, 
 but be seen through and discovered even by 
 the keenest eyes. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 How vainglory attacks a monk not only on his carnal, but 
 also on his spiritual side. 
 
 For not only does this, like the rest of his 
 faults, attack a monk on his carnal side, but 
 on his spiritual side as well, insinuating itself 
 by craft and guile into his mind : so that those 
 who cannot be deceived by carnal vices are 
 more grievously wounded through their spir- 
 itual proficiency; and it is so much the worse 
 to fight against, as it is harder to guard against. 
 For the attack of all other vices is more open 
 and straightforward, and in the case of each 
 of them, when he who stirs them up is met 
 by a determined refusal, he will go away the 
 weaker for it, and the adversary who has been 
 beaten will on the next occasion attack his 
 victim with less vigour. But this malady 
 
 when it has attacked the mind by means of 
 carnal pride, and has been repulsed by the 
 shield of reply, again, like some wickedness 
 that takes many shapes, changes its former 
 guise and character, and under the appear- 
 ance of the virtues tries to strike down and 
 destroy its conqueror. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 How many forms and shapes vainglory takes. 
 
 For our other faults and passions may be 
 said to be simpler and of but one form : but 
 this takes many forms and shapes, and changes 
 about and assails the man who stands up 
 against it from every quarter, and assaults its 
 conqueror on all sides. For it tries to injure 
 the soldier of Christ in his dress, in his man- 
 ner, his walk, his voice, his work, his vigils, 
 his fasts, his prayers, when he withdraws, 
 when he reads, in his knowledge, his silence, 
 his obedience, his humility, his patience; and 
 like some most dangerous rock hidden by 
 surging waves, it causes an unforeseen and 
 miserable shipwreck to those who are sailing 
 with a fair breeze, while they are not on the 
 lookout for it or guarding against it. 
 
 1 This Abbot Moses is probably the one to whom the first two 
 Conferences are attributed (cf. also Conference Vll.xxvi.); and 
 possibly the second of this name (Moses the Libyan) mentioned by 
 Sozomen, H. E. VI. xxix. Cf. also Palladius, the Lausiac His- 
 tory, c. xxii. 
 
276 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 How vainglory attacks a monk on the right hand and on the 
 left. 
 
 And so one who wishes to go along the 
 King's highway by means of the "arms of 
 righteousness which are on the right hand and 
 on the left," ought by the teaching of the 
 Apostle to pass through "honour and dis- 
 honour, evil report and good report," 1 and 
 with such care to direct his virtuous course 
 amid the swelling waves of temptation, with 
 discretion at the helm, and the Spirit of the 
 Lord breathing on us, since we know that if 
 we deviate ever so little to the right hand or 
 to the left, we shall presently be dashed against 
 most dangerous crags. And so we are warned 
 by Solomon, the wisest of men : " Turn not 
 aside to the right hand or to the left; " 2 i.e., 
 do not flatter yourself on your virtues and be 
 puffed up by your spiritual achievements on 
 the right hand ; nor, swerving to the path of 
 vices on the left hand, seek from them for 
 yourself (to use the words of the Apostle) 
 "glory in your shame." 3 For where the devil 
 cannot create vainglory in a man by means of 
 his well-fitting and neat dress, he tries to in- 
 troduce it by means of a dirty, cheap, and 
 uncared-for style. If he cannot drag a man 
 down by honour, he overthrows him by humil- 
 ity. If he cannot make him puffed up by the 
 grace of knowledge and eloquence, he pulls 
 him down by the weight of silence. If a man 
 fasts openly, he is attacked by the pride of 
 vanity. If he conceals it for the sake of de- 
 spising the glory of it, he is assailed by the 
 same sin of pride. In order that he may not 
 be defiled by the stains of vainglory he avoids 
 making long prayers in the sight of the breth- 
 ren ; and yet because he offers them secretly 
 and has no one who is conscious of it, he does 
 not escape the pride of vanity. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A comparison which shows the nature of vainglory. 
 
 Our elders admirably describe the nature 
 of this malady as like that of an onion, and 
 of those bulbs which when stripped of one 
 covering you find to be sheathed in another ; 
 and as often as you strip them, you find them 
 still protected. 
 
 1 2 Cor. vi. 7, 8. 
 
 2 Prov.jv. 27 (LXX.). 
 
 3 Phil, iii. 19. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 That vainglory is not altogther got rid of by the advantages of 
 solitude. 
 
 In solitude also it does not cease from pur- 
 suing him who has for the sake of glory fled 
 from intercourse with all men. And the more 
 thoroughly a man has shunned the whole world, 
 so much the more keenly does it pursue him. 
 It tries to lift up with pride one man because 
 of his great endurance of work and labour, 
 another because of his extreme readiness to 
 obey, another because he outstrips other men 
 in humility. One man is tempted through 
 the extent of his knowledge, another through 
 the extent of his reading, another through the 
 length of his vigils. Nor does this malady 
 endeavour to wound a man except through his 
 virtues; introducing hindrances which lead to 
 death by means of those very things through 
 which the supplies of life are sought. For 
 when men are anxious to walk in the path of 
 holiness and perfection, the enemies do not 
 lay their snares to deceive them anywhere 
 except in the way along which they walk, in 
 accordance with that saying of the blessed 
 David : " In the way wherein I walked have 
 they laid a snare for me; " 4 that in this very 
 way of virtue along which we are walking, 
 when pressing on to "the prize of our high 
 calling," 5 we may be elated by our successes, 
 and so sink down, and fall with the feet of 
 our soul entangled and caught in the snares 
 of vainglory. And so it results that those of 
 us who could not be vanquished in the con- 
 flict with the foe are overcome by the very 
 greatness of our triumph, or else (which is 
 another kind of deception) that, overstraining 
 the limits of that self-restraint which is pos- 
 sible to us, we fail of perseverance in our 
 course on account of bodily weakness. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 How vainglory, when it has been overcome, rises again keener 
 than ever for the fight. 
 
 All vices when overcome grow feeble, and 
 when beaten are day by day rendered weaker, 
 and both in regard to place and time grow 
 less and subside, or at any rate, as they are 
 unlike the opposite virtues, are more easily 
 shunned and avoided: but this one when it is 
 beaten rises again keener than ever for the 
 struggle; and when we think that it is de- 
 stroyed, it revives again, the stronger for its 
 
 * Ps. cxli. (cxlii.) 4. 
 5 Phil. iii. 14. 
 
 
BOOK XI. 
 
 277 
 
 death. The other kinds of vices usually only 
 attack those whom they have overcome in the 
 conflict; but this one pursues its victors only 
 the more keenly; and the more thoroughly it 
 has been resisted, so much the more vigorously 
 does it attack the man who is elated by his 
 victory over it. And herein lies the crafty 
 cunning of our adversary, namely, in the fact 
 that, where he cannot overcome the soldier of 
 Christ by the weapons of the foe, he lays him 
 low by his own spear. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 How vainglory is not allayed either in the .desert or through 
 advancing years. 
 
 Other vices, as we said, are sometimes 
 allayed by the advantages of position, and 
 when the matter of the sin and the occasion 
 and opportunity for it are removed, grow slack, 
 and are diminished: but this one penetrates 
 the deserts with the man who is flying from 
 it, nor can it be shut out from any place, nor 
 when outward material for it is removed' does 
 it fail. For it is simply encouraged by the 
 achievements of the virtues of the man whom 
 it attacks. For all other vices, as we said 
 above, are sometimes diminished by the lapse 
 of time, and disappear: to this one length of 
 life, unless it is supported by~skilful diligence 
 and prudent discretion, is no hindrance, but 
 actually supplies it with new fuel for vanity. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 That vainglory is the more dangerous through being mixed 
 up with virtues. 
 
 Lastly, other passions which are entirely 
 different from the virtues which are their op- 
 posites, and which attack us openly and as it 
 were in broad daylight, are more easily over- 
 come and guarded against: but this being 
 interwoven with our virtues and entangled in 
 the battle; fighting as it were under cover of 
 the darkness of night, deceives the more dan- 
 gerously those who are off their guard and not 
 on the lookout. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 An instance showing how King Hezekiah was overthrown by 
 the dart of vainglory. 
 
 For so we read that Hezekiah, King of 
 Judah, a man of most perfect righteousness in 
 all things, and one approved by the witness 
 of Holy Scripture, after unnumbered com- 
 mendations for his virtues, was overthrown by 
 a singl-e dart of vainglory. And he who by a 
 single prayer of his was able to procure the 
 
 death of a hundred and eighty-five thousand 
 of the army of the Assyrians, whom the angel 
 destroyed in one night, is overcome by boast- 
 ing and vanity. Of whom — to pass over the 
 long list of his virtues, which it would take a 
 long time to unfold — I will say but this one 
 thing. He was a man who, after the close of 
 his life had been decreed and the day of his 
 death determined, by the Lord's sentence, pre- 
 vailed by a single prayer to extend the limits 
 set to his life by fifteen years, the sun return- 
 ing by ten steps, on which it had already 
 shone in its course towards its setting, and by 
 its return dispersing those lines which the 
 shadow that followed its course had already 
 marked, and by this giving two days in one to 
 the whole world, by a stupendous miracle con- 
 trary to the fixed laws of nature. 1 Yet after 
 signs so great and so incredible, after such im- 
 mense proofs of his goodness, hear the Scripture 
 tell how he was destroyed by his very successes. 
 "In those days," we are told, ''Hezekiah was 
 sick unto death : and he prayed to the Lord, 
 and He heard him and gave him a sign," that, 
 namely of which we read in the fourth book of 
 the kingdoms, which was given by Isaiah the 
 prophet through the going back of the sun. 
 "But," it says, "he did not render again 
 according to the benefits which he had re- 
 ceived, for his heart was lifted up; and wrath 
 was kindled against him and against Judah 
 and Jerusalem : and he humbled himself after- 
 wards because his heart had been lifted up, 
 both he and the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and 
 therefore the wrath of the Lord came not upon 
 them in the days of Hezekiah." 2 How dan- 
 gerous, how terrible is the malady of vanity! 
 So much goodness, so many virtues, faith and 
 devotion, great enough to prevail to change 
 nature itself and the laws of the whole world, 
 perish by a single act of pride! So that all 
 his good deeds would have been forgotten as 
 if they had never been, and he would at once 
 have been subject to the wrath of the Lord 
 unless he had appeased Him by recovering 
 his humility: so that he who, at the sugges- 
 tion of pride, had fallen from so great a height 
 of excellence, could only mount again to the 
 height he had lost by the same steps of humil- 
 ity. Do you want to see another instance of 
 a similar downfall? 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The instance of King Uzziah who was overcome by the taint 
 of the same malady. 
 
 Of Uzziah, the ancestor of this king of 
 whom we have been speaking, himself also 
 praised in . all things by the witness of the 
 
 1 Cf. 2 Kings xx. 
 
 2 2 Chron. xxxii. 24-26. 
 
278 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 Scripture, after great commendation for his 
 virtue, after countless triumphs which he 
 achieved by the merit of his devotion and 
 faith, learn how he was cast down by the pride 
 of vainglory. "And," we are told, "the name 
 of Uzziah went forth, for the Lord helped him 
 and had strengthened him. But when he was 
 made strong, his heart was lifted up to his 
 destruction, and he neglected the Lord his 
 God." 1 You behold another instance of 
 a most terrible downfall, and see how two 
 men so upright and excellent were undone by 
 their very triumphs and victories. Whence 
 you see how dangerous the successes of pros- 
 perity generally are, so that those who could 
 not be injured by adversity are ruined, unless 
 they are careful, by prosperity; and those who 
 in the conflict of battle have escaped the danger 
 of death fall before their own trophies and 
 triumphs. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Several testimonies against vainglory. 
 
 And so the Apostle warns us: "Be noc de- 
 sirous of vainglory." 2 And the Lord, rebuk- 
 ing the Pharisees, says, "How can ye believe, 
 who receive glory from one another, and seek 
 not the glory which comes from God alone ? " 8 
 Of these too the blessed David speaks with a 
 threat : " For God hath scattered the bones of 
 them that please men." 4 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Of the ways in which vainglory attacks a monk. 
 
 In the case also of beginners and of those 
 who have as yet made but little progress either 
 in powers of mind or in knowledge it usually 
 puffs up their minds, either because of the 
 quality of their voice because they can sing 
 well, or because their bodies are emaciated, 5 
 or because they are of a good figure, or because 
 they have rich and noble kinsfolk, or because 
 they have despised a military life and honours. 
 Sometimes too it persuades a man that if he 
 had remained in the world he would easily 
 have obtained honours and riches, which per- 
 haps could not possibly have been secured, 
 and inflates him with a vain hope of uncertain 
 things ; and in the case of those things which 
 he never possessed, puffs him up with pride 
 and vanity, as if he were one who had despised 
 them. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 How it suggests that a man may seek to take holy orders. 
 
 
 1 2 Chron. xxvi. 15, 16. 
 
 2 Gal. v. 26. 
 
 3 S. John v. 44. 
 
 * Ps. lii. (Hii.) 6. 
 6 viz., by fasting 
 
 But sometimes it creates a wish to take 
 holy orders, and a desire for the priesthood or 
 diaconate. And it represents that if a man 
 has even against his will received this office, 
 he will fulfil it with such sanctity and strict- 
 ness that he will be able to set an example of 
 saintliness even to other priests; and that he 
 will win over many people, not only by his 
 manner of life, but also by his teaching and 
 preaching. It makes a man, even when alone 
 and sitting in his cell, to go round in mind 
 and imagination to the dwellings and monas- 
 teries of others, and to make many conversions 
 under the inducements of imaginary exulta- 
 tio 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 How vainglory intoxicates the mind. 
 
 And so the miserable soul is affected by 
 such vanity — as if it were deluded by a pro- 
 found slumber — that it is often led away by 
 the pleasure of such thoughts, and filled with 
 such imaginations, so that it cannot even look 
 at things present, or the brethren, while it 
 enjoys dwelling upon these things, of which 
 with its wandering thoughts it has waking 
 dreams, as if they were true. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Of him whom the superior came upon and found in his cell, 
 deluded by idle vainglory. 
 
 I remember an elder, when I was staying 
 in the desert of Scete, who went to the celj of 
 a certain brother to pay him a visit, and when 
 he had reached the door heard him muttering 
 inside, and stood still for a little while, want- 
 ing to know what it was that he was reading 
 from the Bible or repeating by heart (as is 
 customary) while he was at work. And when 
 this most excellent eavesdropper diligently ap- 
 plied his ear and listened with some curiosity, 
 he found that the man was induced by an 
 attack of this spirit to fancy that he was de- 
 livering a stirring sermon to the people. And 
 when the elder, as he stood still, heard him 
 finish his discourse and return again to his 
 office, and give out the dismissal of the cate- 
 chumens, as the deacon does, 6 then at last he 
 
 6 Celebrare vehrt diaconum catechumenis missam. Missa is 
 here used for the dismissal of the catechumens, which it was the 
 deacon's office to proclaim. The whole service was divided into 
 two parts, (1) the mass of the catechumens, containing the Scrip- 
 
BOOK XI. 
 
 279 
 
 Knocked at the door, and the man came out, 
 and met the elder with the customary rever- 
 ence, and brought him in and (for his knowl- 
 edge of what had been his thoughts made him 
 uneasy) asked him when he had arrived, for 
 fear lest he might have taken some harm from 
 standing too long at the door: and the old 
 man joking pleasantly replied, "I only got 
 here while you were giving out the dismissal 
 of the catechumens." 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 How faults cannot be cured unless their roots and causes have 
 been discovered. 
 
 I thought it well to insert these things in 
 this little work of mine, that we might learn, 
 not only by reason, but also by examples, 
 about the force of temptations and the order 
 of the sins which hurt an unfortunate soul, 
 and so might be more careful in avoiding the 
 snares and manifold deceits of the enemy. 
 For these things are indiscriminately brought 
 forward by the Egyptian fathers, that by telling 
 them, as those who are still enduring them, 
 they may disclose and lay bare the combats 
 with all the vices, which they actually do suf- 
 fer, and those which the younger ones are sure 
 to suffer; so that, when they explain the illu- 
 sions arising from all the passions, those who 
 are but beginners and fervent in spirit may 
 know the secret of their struggles, and seeing 
 them as in a glass, may learn both the causes 
 of the sins by which they are troubled, and 
 the remedies for them, and instructed before- 
 hand concerning the approach of future strug- 
 gles, may be taught how they ought to guard 
 against them, or to meet them and to fight with 
 them. As clever physicians are accustomed 
 not only to heal already existing diseases, but 
 also by a wise skill to seek to obviate future 
 ones, and to prevent them by their prescrip- 
 tions and healing draughts, so these true 
 physicians of the soul, by means of spiritual 
 conferences, like some celestial antidote, de- 
 stroy beforehand those maladies of the soul 
 which would arise, and do not allow them to 
 gain a footing in the minds of the juniors, as 
 they unfold to them the causes of the passions 
 
 ture lessons, sermon, and prayers for the catechumens; and (2) 
 the mass of the faithful, or the Eucharist proper. At the end of 
 the first part the deacon warned the catechumens to depart, in 
 words varying slightly in different churches, but substantially the 
 same in all, both east and west : e.g. in the Liturgy of S. Chrysostom 
 the form is " Let all the catechumens depart: let not any of the 
 catechumens — Let all the faithful — "; in that of S. Mark it is 
 still briefer: "Look lest any of the catechumens." The Roman 
 missal does not now contain this feature, but it was certainly origi- 
 nally found in it, for it is alluded to by Gregory the Great (Dial. 
 Book fl. c. xxiii.), who gives the form as follows : " Si quis non 
 communicat det locum." It was also customary in Spain and Gaul, 
 as well as in Africa, being alluded to by Augustine in Sermon xlix. : 
 " Ecce post sermonen fit missa catechumenis: manebunt fideles, 
 venietur ad locum orationis." 
 
 which threaten them, and the remedies which 
 will heal them. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 How a monk ought to avoid women and bishops. 
 
 Wherefore this is an old maxim of the 
 Fathers that is still current, — though I can- 
 not produce it without shame on my own part, 
 since I could not avoid my own sister, nor 
 escape the hands of the bishop, — viz., that 
 a monk ought by all means to fly from women 
 and bishops. For neither of them will allow 
 him who has once been joined in close inter- 
 course any longer to care for the quiet of his 
 cell, or to continue with pure eyes in divine 
 contemplation through his insight into holy 
 things. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Remedies by which we can overcome vainglory. 
 
 And so the athlete of Christ who desires to 
 strive lawfully in this true and spiritual com- 
 bat, should strive by all means to overcome 
 this changeable monster of many shapes, 
 which, as it attacks us on every side like some 
 manifold wickedness, we can escape by such 
 a remedy as this; viz., thinking on that say- 
 ing of David : " The Lord hath scattered the 
 bones of those who please men." x To begin 
 with we should not allow ourselves to do any- 
 thing at the suggestion of vanity, and for the 
 sake of obtaining vainglory. Next, when we 
 have begun a thing well, we should endeavour 
 to maintain it with just the same care, for fear 
 lest afterwards the malady of vainglory should 
 creep in and make void all the fruits of our 
 labours. And anything which is of very little 
 use or value in the common life of the breth- 
 ren, we should avoid as leading to boasting; 
 and whatever would render us remarkable 
 amongst the others, and for which credit would 
 be gained among men, as if we were the only 
 people who could do it, this should be shunned 
 by us. For by these signs the deadly taint of 
 vainglory will be shown to cling to us: which 
 we shall most easily escape if we consider that 
 we shall not merely lose the fruits of those 
 labours of ours which we have performed at 
 the suggestion of vainglory, but that we shall 
 also be guilty of a great sin, and as impious 
 persons undergo eternal punishments, inas- 
 much as we have wronged God by doing for 
 the favour of men what we ought to have done 
 for His sake, and are convicted by Him who 
 knows all secrets of having preferred men to 
 God, and the praise of the world to the praise 
 of the Lord. 
 
 1 Ps. lii. (liii.) 6. 
 
2 8o 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 BOOK XII. 
 
 OF THE SPIRIT OF PRIDE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 How our eighth combat is againSt the spirit of pride, and of 
 its character. 
 
 Our eighth and last combat is against the 
 spirit of pride, which evil, although it is the 
 latest in our conflict with our faults and 
 stands last on the list, yet in beginning and 
 in the order of time is the first : an evil beast 
 that is most savage and more dreadful than 
 all the former ones, chiefly trying those who 
 are perfect, and devouring with its dreadful 
 bite those who have almost attained the con- 
 summation of virtue. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 How there are two kinds of pride. 
 
 And of this pride there are two kinds : the 
 one, that by which we said that the best of 
 men and spiritually minded ones were trou- 
 bled; the other, that which assaults even be- 
 ginners and carnal persons. And though each 
 kind of pride is excited with regard to both 
 God and man by a dangerous elation, yet 
 that first kind more particularly has to do with 
 God ; the second refers especially to men. Of 
 the origin of this last and the remedies for it 
 we will by God's help treat as far as possible 
 in the latter part of this book. We now pro- 
 pose to say a few things about that former 
 kind, by which, as I mentioned before, those 
 who are perfect are especially tried. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 How pride is equally destructive of all virtues. 
 
 There is then no other fault which is so 
 destructive of all virtues, and robs and de- 
 spoils a man of all righteousness and holiness, 
 as this evil of pride, which like some pesti- 
 lential disease attacks the whole man, and, 
 not content to damage one part or one limb 
 only, injures the entire body by its deadly 
 influence, and endeavours to cast down by a 
 most fatal fall, and destroy those who were 
 already at the top of the tree of the virtues. 
 For every other fault is satisfied within its 
 
 own bounds and limits, and though it clouds 
 other virtues as well, yet it is in the main 
 directed against one only, and specially attacks 
 and assaults that. And so (to make my mean- 
 ing clearer) gluttony, i.e., the appetites of 
 the belly and the pleasures of the palate, is 
 destructive of strict temperance : lust stains 
 purity, anger destroys patience : so that some- 
 times a man who is in bondage to some one 
 sin is not altogether wanting in other virtues: 
 but being simply deprived of that one virtue 
 which in the struggle yields to the vice which 
 is its rival and opposed to it, can to some 
 extent preserve his other virtues : but this one 
 when once it has taken possession of some 
 unfortunate soul, like some most brutal tyrant, 
 when the lofty citadel of the virtues has been 
 taken, utterly destroys and lays waste the whole 
 city; and levelling with the ground of vices 
 the once high walls of saintliness, and confus- 
 ing them together, it allows no shadow of 
 freedom henceforth to survive in the soul 
 subject to it. And in proportion as it was 
 originally the richer, so now will the yoke of 
 servitude be the severer, through which by its 
 cruel ravages it will strip the soul it has sub- 
 dued of all its powers of virtue. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 How by reason of pride Lucifer was turned from an archangel 
 into a devil. 
 
 And that we may understand the power 
 of its awful tyranny we see that that angel 
 who, for the greatness of his splendour and 
 beauty was termed Lucifer, was cast out of 
 heaven for no other sin but this, and, pierced 
 with the dart of pride, was hurled down from 
 his grand and exalted position as an angel 
 into hell. If then pride of heart alone was 
 enough to cast down from heaven to earth a 
 power that was so great and adorned with the 
 attributes of such might, the very greatness of 
 his fall shows us with what care we who are 
 surrounded by the weakness of the flesh ought 
 to be on our guard. But we can learn how to 
 avoid the most deadly poison of this evil if 
 we trace out the origin and causes of his fall. 
 For weakness can never be cured, nor the 
 remedies for bad states of health be disclosed 
 
BOOK XII. 
 
 281 
 
 unless first their origin and causes are investi- 
 gated by a wise scrutiny. For as he (viz., 
 Lucifer) was endowed with divine splendour, 
 and shone forth among the other higher powers 
 by the bounty of his Maker, he believed that 
 he had acquired the splendour of that wisdom 
 and the beauty of those powers, with which 
 he was graced by the gift of the Creator, by 
 the might of his own nature, and not by the 
 beneficence of His generosity. And on this 
 account he was puffed up as if he stood in no 
 need of divine assistance in order to continue 
 in this state of purity, and esteemed himself 
 to be like God, as if, like God, he had no 
 need of any one, and trusting in the power of 
 his own will, fancied that through it he could 
 richly supply himself with everything which 
 was necessary for the consummation of virtue 
 or for the perpetuation of perfect bliss. This 
 thought alone was the cause of his first fall. 
 On account of which being forsaken by God, 
 whom he fancied he no longer needed, he 
 suddenly became unstable and tottering, and 
 discovered the weakness of his own nature, 
 and lost the blessedness which he had enjoyed 
 6y God's gift. And because he " loved the 
 words of ruin," with which he had said, "I 
 will ascend into heaven," and the "deceitful 
 tongue," with which he had said of himself, 
 "I will be like the Most High," 1 and of Adam 
 and Eve, "Ye shall be as gods," therefore 
 "shall God destroy him forever and pluck him 
 out and remove him from his dwelling place 
 and his root out of the land of the living." 
 Then " the just, " when they see his ruin, " shall 
 fear, and shall laugh at him and say " (what 
 may also be most justly aimed at those who 
 trust that they can obtain the highest good 
 without the protection and assistance of God) : 
 "Behold the man that made not God his 
 helper, but trusted in the abundance of his 
 riches, and prevailed in his vanity." 2 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 That incentives to all sins spring from pride. 
 
 This is the reason of the first fall, and the 
 starting point of the original malady, which 
 again insinuating itself into the first man, 3 
 through him who had already been destroyed 
 
 the freedom of his will and by his own efforts 
 he could obtain the glory of Deity, he actually 
 lost that glory which he already possessed 
 through the free gift of the Creator. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 That the sin of pride is last in the actual order of the combat, 
 but first in time and origin. 
 
 And so it is most clearly established by 
 instances and testimonies from Scripture that 
 the mischief of pride, although it comes later 
 in the order of the combat, is yet earlier in 
 origin, and is the beginning of all sins and 
 faults: nor is it (like the other vices) simply 
 fatal to the virtue opposite to it (in this case, 
 humility), but it is also at the same time de- 
 structive of all virtues : nor does it only tempt 
 ordinary folk and small people, but chiefly 
 those who already stand on the heights of 
 valour.* For thus the prophet speaks of this 
 spirit, "His meat is choice." 6 And so the 
 blessed David, although he guarded the re- 
 cesses of his heart with the utmost care, so 
 that he dared to say to Him from whom the 
 secrets of his conscience were not hid, " Lord, 
 my heart is not exalted, nor are my eyes lofty: 
 neither have I walked in great matters, nor 
 in wonderful things above me. If I was not 
 humbly minded;" 6 and again, "He that 
 worketh pride shall not dwell in the midst of 
 my house ; " 7 yet, as he knew how hard is that 
 watchfulness even for those that are perfect, 
 he did not so presume on his OAvn efforts, but 
 prayed to God and implored His help, that 
 he might escape unwounded by the darts of 
 this foe, saying, "Let not the foot of pride 
 come to me," 8 for he feared and dreaded fall- 
 ing into that which is said of the proud, viz., 
 "God resisteth the proud;" 9 and again: 
 " Every one that exalteth his heart is unclean 
 before the Lord." 10 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 That the evil of pride is so great that it rightly has even God 
 Himself as its adversary. 
 
 How great is the evil of pride, that it rightly 
 has no angel, nor other virtues opposed to it, 
 
 by it, produced the weaknesses and materials \ but God Himself as its adversary! Since it 
 of all faults. For while he believed that by should be noted that it is never said of those 
 
 1 Is. xiv. 13, 14. 
 
 2 Ps. li. (lii.) 6-9. 
 
 3 Protoplastum cf. Wisdom vii.i; x. 1. where Adam is called 
 jrpMTd;rAacrTos. From these passages the term came to be com- 
 monly used as the designation of our first parents. So Clem. Alex. 
 Strrm. iii. 17 : and in its Latin form it is found in the early transla- 
 tion of Irenaeus. Hir. III. xxi. 20. 
 
 4 Cf. Milton's " last infirmity of noble minds 
 o Hab. i. i6(LXX.). 
 
 6 Ps. cxxx. (cxxxi.) 1, 2. 
 
 7 Ps. c. (ci.) 1, 2. 
 
 8 Ps. xxxv. (xxxvi.) 1, 2. 
 
 9 S. James iv. 6. 
 
 10 Prov. xvi. 5 (LXX.). 
 
 (Lycidas.) 
 
282 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 who are entangled in other sins that they have 
 God resisting them ; I mean it is not said that 
 God is opposed " to the gluttonous, fornicators, 
 passionate, or covetous," but only "to the 
 proud." For those sins react only on those 
 who commit them, or seem to be committed 
 against those who share in them, i.e., against 
 other men; but this one has more properly 
 to do with God, |and therefore it is especially 
 right that it should have Him opposed to it. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 How God has destroyed the pride of the devil by the virtue of 
 humility, and various passages in proof of this. 
 
 And so God, the Creator and Healer of all, 
 knowing that pride is the cause and fountain 
 head of evils, has been careful to heal oppo- 
 sites with opposites, that those things which 
 were ruined by pride might be restored by 
 humility. For the one says, " I will ascend 
 into heaven ; " x the other, " My soul was 
 brought low even to the ground." 2 The one 
 says, "And I will be like the most High;" 
 the other, "Though He was in the form of 
 God, yet He emptied Himself and took the 
 form of a servant, and humbled Himself and 
 became obedient unto death." 3 The one says, 
 " I will exalt my throne above the stars of 
 God ; " the other, " Learn of me, for I am 
 meek and lowly of heart." 4 The one says, 
 " I know not the Lord and will not let Israel 
 go;" 5 the other, "If I say that I know Him 
 not, I shall be a liar like unto you: but I 
 know Him, and keep His commandments." 6 
 The one says, " My rivers are mine and I made 
 them: " 7 the other: "I can do nothing of my- 
 self, but my Father who abideth in me, He 
 doeth the works." 8 The one says, "All the 
 kingdoms of the world and the glory of them 
 are mine, and to whomsoever I will, I give 
 them;" 9 the other, "Though He were rich, 
 yet He became poor, that we through His 
 poverty might be made rich. ' ' 10 The one says, 
 "As eggs are gathered together which are left, 
 so have I gathered all the earth: and there 
 was none that moved the wing or opened the 
 mouth, or made the least noise; " u the other, 
 "I am become like a solitary pelican; I 
 watched and became as a sparrow alone upon 
 the roof." 12 The one says, "I have dried up 
 with the sole of my foot all the rivers shut 
 up in banks; " ls the other, "Cannot I ask my 
 
 1 Is. xiv. 13. 
 
 - Ps. xliii. (xliv.) 25. 
 
 3 Phil. ii. 6-8. 
 
 4 S. Matt. xi. 29. 
 '•> Exod. v. 2. 
 
 fi S. John viii, 55. 
 
 ' Ezek. xxix. 3 .'(LXX.) 
 
 8 S. John v. 30; xiv. 10. 
 3 S. Luke iv. 6. 
 
 10 2 Cor. viii. 9. 
 
 11 Is. x. 14. 
 
 12 Ps. ci. (cii.) 7, 8. 
 
 13 Is. xxxvii. 25. 
 
 Father, and Fie shall presently give me mon 
 than twelve legions of angels?" 14 If we look at 
 the reason of our original fall, and the foun- 
 dations of our salvation, and consider by 
 whom and in what way the latter were laid 
 and the former originated, we may learn, 
 either through the fall of the devil, or through 
 the example of Christ, how to avoid so terrible 
 a death from pride. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 How we too may overcome pride. 
 
 And so we can escape the snare of this most 
 evil spirit, if in the case of every virtue in 
 which we feel that we make progress, we say 
 these words of the Apostle: "Not I, but the 
 grace of God with me," and "by the grace of 
 God I am what I am; " 15 and "it is God that 
 worketh in us both to will and to do of His 
 good pleasure. " 16 As the author of our salva- 
 tion Himself also says: "If a man abide in 
 me and I in him, the same beareth much fruit; 
 for without me ye can do nothing." 17 And 
 "Except the Lord build the house, they la- 
 bour in vain that build it. Except the Lord 
 keep the city, the watchman waketh but in 
 vain." And "Vain is it for you to rise up 
 before light. " 18 For " it is not of him that 
 willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God 
 that hath mercy. ' ' 19 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 How no one can obtain perfect virtue and the promised bliss 
 by his own strength alone. 
 
 For the will and course of no one, however 
 eager and anxious, 20 is sufficiently ready for 
 him, while still enclosed in the flesh which 
 warreth against the spirit, to reach so great a 
 prize of perfection, and the palm of upright- 
 ness and purity, unless he is protected by the 
 divine compassion, so that he is privileged 
 to attain to that which he greatly desires and 
 to which he runs. For "every good gift and 
 every perfect gift is from above, and cometh 
 down from the Father of lights." 21 " For what 
 hast thou which thou didst not receive ? But 
 if thou hast received it, why dost thou glory 
 as if thou hadst not received it ? " 22 
 
 « S. Matt. xxvi. 53. 17 S. John xv. 5. 
 
 18 1 Cor. xv. 10. ls Ps. cxxvi. (cxxvii.) 1, 2. 
 
 10 Phil. ii. 13. w Rom. ix. 16. 
 
 !0 Quamvis ferventis et cupientis (Petschenig) : Quamvis vo- 
 lent is et current is (Gazaeus). 
 
 21 S. James i. 17. "■ 1 Cor. iv. 7. 
 
 \ 
 
BOOK XII. 
 
 283 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The case of the thief and of David, and of our call in order to 
 illustrate the grace of God. 
 
 For if we recall that thief who was by reason 
 of a single confession admitted into paradise, 1 
 we shall feel that he did not acquire such bliss 
 by the merits of his life, but obtained it by 
 the gift of a merciful God. Or if we bear in 
 mind those two grievous and heinous sins of 
 King David, blotted out by one word of peni- 
 tence, 2 we shall see that neither here were the 
 merits of his works sufficient to obtain pardon 
 for so great a sin, but that the grace of God 
 superabounded, as, when the opportunity for 
 true penitence was taken, He removed the 
 whole weight of sins through the full confes- 
 sion of but one word. If we consider also the 
 beginning of the call and salvation of man- 
 kind, in which, as the Apostle says, we are 
 saved not of ourselves, nor of our works, but 
 by the gift and grace of God, we can clearly 
 see how the whole of perfection is " not of 
 him that willeth nor of him that runneth, but 
 of God that hath mercy," who makes us vic- 
 torious over our faults, without any merits of 
 works and life on our part to outweigh them, 
 or any effort of our will availing to scale the 
 difficult heights of perfection, or to subdue the 
 flesh which we have to use : since no tortures 
 of this body, and no contrition of heart, can 
 be sufficient for the acquisition of that true 
 chastity of the inner man so as to be able to 
 gain that great virtue of purity (which is innate 
 in the angels alone and indigenous as it were 
 to heaven) merely by human efforts, i.e., with- 
 out the aid of God: for- the performance of 
 everything good flows from His grace, who by 
 multiplying His bounty has granted such last- 
 ing bliss, and vast glory to our feeble will 
 and short and petty course of life. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 That no toil is worthy to be compared with the promised 
 
 bliss. 
 
 For all the long years of this present life 
 disappear when you have regard to the eternity 
 of the future glory : and all our sorrows vanish 
 away in the contemplation of that vast bliss, 
 and like smoke melt away, and come to noth- 
 ing, and like ashes are no more seen. 
 
 Cf. S. Luke xxiii. 40. 
 
 Cf. 2 Sam. xii. 13. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The leaching of the elders on the method of acquiring purity. 
 
 Wherefore it is now time to produce, in 
 the very words in which they hand it down, 
 the opinion of the Fathers; viz., of those who 
 have not painted the way of perfection and its 
 character in high-sounding words, but rather, 
 possessing it in deed and truth, and in the 
 virtue of their spirit, have passed it on by 
 their own experience and sure example. And 
 so they say that no one can be altogether 
 cleansed from carnal sins, unless he has real- 
 ized that all his labours and efforts are insuffi- 
 cient for so great and perfect an end: and 
 unless, taught, not by the system handed down 
 to him, but by his feelings and virtues and 
 his own experience, he recognizes that it can 
 only be gained by the mercy and assistance of 
 God. For in order to acquire such splendid 
 and lofty prizes of purity and perfection, how- 
 ever great may be the efforts of fastings and 
 vigils and readings and solitude and retire- 
 ment applied to it, they will not be sufficient 
 to secure it by the merits of the actual efforts 
 and toil For a man's own efforts and human 
 exertions will never make up for the lack of 
 the divine gift, unless it is granted by divine 
 compassion in answer to his prayer. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 That the help of God is given to those who labour .8 
 
 Nor do I say this to cast a slight on human 
 efforts, or in the endeavour to discourage any 
 one from his purpose of working and doing his 
 best. But clearly and most earnestly do I lay 
 down, not giving my own opinion, but that of 
 the elders, that perfection cannot possibly be 
 gained without these, but that by these only 
 without the grace of God nobody can ever 
 attain it. For when we say that human efforts 
 cannot of themselves secure it without the aid 
 of God, we thus insist that God's mercy and 
 grace are bestowed only upon those who labour 
 and exert themselves, and are granted (to use 
 the Apostle's expression) to them that "will " 
 and "run," according to that which is sung in 
 the person of God in the eighty-eighth Psalm; 
 " I have laid help upon one that is mighty, 
 and have exalted one chosen out of my 
 people." 4 For we say, in accordance with 
 
 3 The language in this chapter is perilously near semi- Pelagian- 
 ism, on which compare the Introduction p. 190, sq. 
 
 4 Ps. lxxxviii. (lxxxix.) 20. 
 
284 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 our Saviour's words, that it is given to them 
 that ask, and opened to them that knock; and 
 found by them that seek; * but that the asking, 
 the seeking, and the knocking on our part are 
 insufficient unless the mercy of God gives what 
 we ask, and opens that at which we knock, 
 and enables us to find that which we seek. 
 For He is at hand to bestow all these things, 
 if only the opportunity is given to Him by our 
 good will. For He desires and looks for our 
 perfection and salvation far more than we do 
 ourselves. And the blessed David knew so 
 well that by his own efforts he could not secure 
 the increase of his work and labour, that he 
 entreated with renewed prayers that he might 
 obtain the "direction" of his work from the 
 Lord, saying, "Direct thou the work of our 
 hands over us ; yea, the work of our hands do 
 thou direct; " 2 and again: "Confirm, O God, 
 what thou hast wrought in us." 3 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 From whom we can learn the way of perfection. 
 
 And so, if we wish in very deed and truth 
 to attain to the crown of virtues, we ought to 
 listen to those teachers and guides who, not 
 dreaming with pompous declamations, but 
 learning by act and experience, are able to 
 teach us as well, and direct us likewise, and 
 show us the road by which we may arrive at 
 it by a most sure pathway; and who also testify 
 that they have themselves reached it by faith 
 rather than by any merits of their efforts. And 
 further, the purity of heart that they have ac- 
 quired has taught them this above all; viz., 
 to recognize more and more that they are bur- 
 dened with sin (for their compunction for their 
 faults increases day by day in proportion as 
 their purity of soul advances), and to sigh con- 
 tinually from the bottom of their heart because 
 they see that they cannot possibly avoid the 
 spots and blemishes of those faults which are 
 ingrained in them through the countless tri- 
 flings of the thoughts. And therefore they 
 declared that they looked for the reward of the 
 future life, not from the merits of their works, 
 but from the mercy of the Lord, taking no 
 credit to themselves for their great circum- 
 spection of heart in comparison with others, 
 since they ascribed this not to their own exer- 
 tions, but to divine grace; and without flatter- 
 ing themselves on account of the carelessness 
 of those who are cold, and worse than they 
 themselves are, they rather aimed at a lasting 
 humility by fixing their gaze on those whom 
 
 1 S. Matt. vii. 7. 
 
 Ps. lxxxix. (xc.) 17. 3 Ps. lxvii. (Ixiii.) 29. 
 
 they knew to be really free from sin and al- 
 ready in the enjoyment of eternal bliss in the 
 kingdom of heaven, and so by this considera- 
 tion they avoided the downfall of pride, and 
 at the same time always saw both what they 
 were aiming at and what they had to grieve 
 over . as they knew that they could not attain 
 that purity of heart for which they yearned 
 while weighed down by the burden of the 
 flesh. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 That we cannot even make the effort to obtain perfection with- 
 out the mercy and inspiration of God. 
 
 We ought therefore, in accordance with their 
 teaching and instruction, so to press towards 
 it, and to be diligent in fastings, vigils, prayers, 
 and contrition of heart and body, for fear lest 
 all these things should be rendered useless by 
 an attack of this malady. For we ought to 
 believe not merely that we cannot secure this 
 actual perfection by our own efforts and exer- 
 tions, but also that we cannot perform those 
 things which we practise for its sake, viz., our 
 efforts and exertions and desires, without the 
 assistance of the divine protection, and the 
 grace of His inspiration, chastisement, and 
 exhortation, which He ordinarily sheds abroad 
 in our hearts either through the instrumen- 
 tality of another, or in His own person coming 
 to visit us. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Various passages which clearly show that we cannot do any- 
 thing which belongs to our salvation without the aid of God. 
 
 Lastly, the Author of our salvation teaches 
 us what we ought not merely to think, but also 
 to acknowledge in everything that we do. " I 
 can," He says, "of mine own self do nothing, 
 but the Father which abideth in me, He doeth 
 the works." 4 He says, speaking in the human 
 nature which He had taken, 5 that He could 
 do nothing of Himself; and shall we, who are 
 dust and ashes, think that we have no need of 
 God's help in what pertains to our salvation? 
 And so let us learn in everything, <is we feel 
 our own weakness, and at the same time His 
 help, to declare with the saints, "I was over- 
 turned that I might fall, but the Lord sup- 
 ported me. The Lord is my strength and my 
 praise: and He is become my salvation." 6 
 And "Unless the Lord had helped me, my 
 
 4 S. John xiv. 10; v. 30. 
 
 B Ex persona, liominis assumpti. Seethe note on Against Nesto- 
 rius, I. v. 
 
 Ps. cxvii. (cxviii.) 13, 14. 
 
BOOK -XII. 
 
 285 
 
 soul had almost dwelt in hell. If I said. My 
 foot is moved: Thy mercy, O Lord, assisted 
 me. According to the multitude of my sor- 
 rows in my heart, Thy comforts have given joy 
 to my soul." 1 Seeing also that our heart ,is 
 strengthened in the fear of the Lord, and in 
 patience, let us say: "And the Lord became 
 my protector; and He brought me forth into 
 a large place." 2 And knowing that knowledge 
 is increased by progress in work, let us say : 
 "For thou lightest my lamp, O Lord: O my 
 God, enlighten my darkness, for by Thee 
 I shall be delivered from temptation, and 
 through my God I shall go over a wall." 
 Then, feeling that we have ourselves sought 
 for courage and endurance, and are being 
 directed with greater ease and without labour 
 in the path of the virtues, let us say, " It is 
 God who girded me with strength, and made 
 my way perfect ; who made my feet like hart's 
 feet, and setteth me up on high : who teacheth 
 my hands to war." And having also secured 
 discretion, strengthened with which we can 
 dash down our enemies, let us cry aloud to 
 God: "Thy discipline hath set me up 3 unto 
 the end, and Thy discipline the same shall 
 teach me. Thou hast enlarged my steps under 
 me, and my feet are not weakened." And 
 because I am thus strengthened with Thy 
 knowledge and power, I will boldly take up 
 the words which follow, and will say, "I will 
 pursue after my enemies and overtake them : 
 and I will not turn again till they are con- 
 sumed. I will break them, and they shall 
 not be able to stand: they shall fall under my 
 feet." 4 Again, mindful of our own infirmity, 
 and of the fact that while still burdened with 
 the weak flesh we cannot without His assist- 
 ance overcome such bitter foes as our sins are, 
 let us say, "Through Thee we will scatter our 
 enemies : 5 and through Thy name we will 
 despise them that rise up against us. For I 
 will not trust in my bow: neither shall my 
 sword save me. For Thou hast saved us from 
 them that afflict us : and hast put them to 
 shame that hate us." 6 But further: "Thou 
 hast guided me with strength unto the battle, 
 and hast subdued under me them that rose 
 up against me. And Thou hast made mine 
 enemies turn their backs upon me, and hast 
 destroyed them that hated me." 7 And reflect- 
 ing that with our own arms alone we cannot 
 conquer, let us say, " Take hold of arms and 
 shield: and rise up to help me. Bring out 
 
 1 Ps. xciii. (xciv. ) 17-19. . 
 
 2 Ps. xvii. (xviii.) 20 sq. 
 
 3 Erexit (Petschenig). Gazaeus reads correxit, with the Vulgate. 
 
 4 Ps. xvii. (xviii.) 33 sq. 
 
 5 Gazanis adds cornu after the Vulgate. 
 
 6 Ps. xliii. (xliv.) 6-8. 
 
 7 Ps. xvii. (xviii.) 40, 41. 
 
 the sword and stop the way against them that 
 persecute me : say to my soul, I am thy salva- 
 tion." 8 "And Thou hast made my arms like 
 a brazen bow. And Thou hast given me the 
 protection of Thy salvation : and Thy right 
 hand hath held me up. " 9 " For our fathers got 
 not the possession of the land through their 
 own sword: neither did their own arm save 
 them : but Thy right hand and Thine arm and 
 the light of Thy countenance because Thou 
 wast pleased with them." 10 Lastly, as with 
 anxious mind we regard all His benefits 
 with thankfulness, let us cry to Him with the 
 inmost feelings of our heart, for all these 
 things, because we have fought, and have ob- 
 tained from Him the light of knowledge, and 
 self-control and discretion, and because He 
 has furnished us with His own arms, and 
 strengthened us with a girdle of virtue, and 
 because He has made our enemies turn their 
 backs upon us, and has given us the power of 
 scattering them like the dust before the wind: 
 " I will love Thee, O Lord my strength ; the 
 Lord is my stronghold, my refuge and my de- 
 liverer. My God is my helper, and in Him 
 will I put my trust. My protector and the 
 horn of my salvation, and my support. 
 Praising I will call upon the name of the 
 Lord; and I shall be saved from mine ene- 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 How we are protected by the grace of God not only in our 
 natural condition, but also by His daily Providence. 
 
 Not alone giving thanks to Him for that He 
 has created us as reasonable beings, and en- 
 dowed us with the power of free will, and 
 blessed us with the grace of baptism, and 
 granted to us the knowledge and aid of the 
 law, but for these things as well, which are 
 bestowed upon us by His daily providence; 
 viz., that He delivers us from the craft of our 
 enemies; that He works with us so that we 
 can overcome the sins of the flesh, that, even 
 without our knowing it, He shields us from 
 dangers; that He protects us from falling 
 into sin; that He helps us and enlightens us, 
 so that we can understand and recognize the 
 actual help which He gives us, (which some 
 will have it is what is meant by the law) ; 12 
 that, when we are through His influence se- 
 cretly struck with compunction for our sins 
 and negligences, He visits us with His regard 
 
 8 Ps. xxxiv. (xxxv.) 2-4. 
 Ps. xvii. (xviii.) 35. 
 ™ Ps. xliii. (xliv.) 4, 5. 
 
 11 Ps. xvii. (xviii.) 2-4. 
 
 12 The allusion is to the Pelagians. Cf. S. Jerome Contra Pelag. 
 I. c. ix.; and in Jerem. c. xxv. ; and S.Augustine De Gratia Christi 
 contra Pelag. 
 
286 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 and chastens us to our soul's health ; that even 
 against our will we are sometimes drawn by 
 Him to salvation; lastly that this very free 
 will of ours, which is more readily inclined 
 to sin, is turned by Him to abetter purpose, 
 and by His prompting and suggestion, bent 
 towards the way of virtue. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 How this faith concerning the grace of God was delivered to 
 us by the ancient Fathers. 
 
 This then is that humility towards God, 
 this is that genuine faith of the ancient fa- 
 thers which still remains intact among their 
 successors. And to this faith, the apostolic 
 virtues, which they so often showed, bear an 
 undoubted witness, not only among us but 
 also among infidels and unbelievers: for keep- 
 ing in simplicity of heart the simple faith of 
 the fishermen they did not receive it in a 
 worldly spirit through dialectical syllogisms 
 or the eloquence of a Cicero, but learnt by the 
 experience of a pure life, and stainless actions, 
 and by correcting their faults, and (to speak 
 more truly) by visible proofs, that the character 
 of perfection is to be found in that faith with- 
 out which neither piety towards God, nor 
 purification from sin, nor amendment of life, 
 nor perfection of virtue can be secured. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Of one who for his blasphemy was given over to a most un- 
 clean spirit. 
 
 I knew one of the number of the brethren, 
 whom I heartily wish I had never known; 
 since afterwards he allowed himself to be 
 saddled with the responsibilities of my or- 
 der: 1 who confessed to a most admirable elder 
 that he was attacked by a terrible sin of the 
 flesh : for he was inflamed with an intolerable 
 lust, with the unnatural desire of suffering 
 rather than of committing a shameful act: 
 then the other like a true spiritual physician, at 
 once saw through the inward cause and ori- 
 gin of this evil. And, sighing deeply, said: 
 "Never would the Lord have suffered you 
 to be given over to so foul a spirit unless 
 you had blasphemed against Him. " And he, 
 when this was discovered, at once fell at his 
 feet on the ground, and, struck with the ut- 
 most astonishment, as if he saw the secrets of 
 his heart laid bare by God, confessed that he 
 had blasphemed with evil thoughts against 
 the Son of God. Whence it is clear that one 
 
 1 Viz., that of the priesthood. 
 
 who is possessed by the spirit of pride, or 
 who has been guilty of blasphemy against 
 God,- — as one who offers a wrong to Him 
 from whom the gift of purity must be looked 
 for — is deprived of his uprightness and per- 
 fection, and does not deserve the sanctifying 
 grace of chastity. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 The instance of Joash, King of Judith, showing what was the 
 consequence of his pride. 
 
 Some such thing we read of in the book of 
 Chronicles. For Joash the king of Judah at 
 the age of seven was summoned by Jehoiada 
 the priest to the kingdom and by the witness 
 of Scripture is commended for all his actions 
 as long as the aforesaid priest lived. But hear 
 what Scripture relates of him after Jehoiada's 
 death, and how he was puffed up with pride 
 and given over to a most disgraceful state. 
 " But after the death of Jehoiada the princes 
 went in and worshipped the king: and he was 
 soothed by their services and hearkened unto 
 them. And they forsook the temple of the 
 Lord, the God of their fathers, and served 
 groves and idols, and great wrath came upon 
 Judah and Jerusalem because of this sin." 
 And after a little: " When a year was come 
 about, the army of Syria came up against him: 
 and they came to Judah and Jerusalem, and 
 killed all the princes of the people, and they 
 sent all the spoils to the king to Damascus. 
 And whereas there came a very small number 
 of the Syrians, the Lord delivered into their 
 hands an infinite multitude, because they had 
 forsaken the Lord the God of their fathers: 
 and on Joash they executed shameful judg- 
 ments. And departing they left him in great 
 diseases. " 2 You see how the consequence of 
 pride was that he was given over to shocking 
 and filthy passions. For he who is puffed 
 up with pride and has permitted himself to be 
 worshipped as God, is (as the Apostle says) 
 "given over to shameful passions and a repro- 
 bate mind to do those things which are not 
 convenient." a And because, as Scripture says, 
 "every one who exalts his heart is unclean be- 
 fore God," 4 he who is puffed up with swelling 
 pride of heart is given over to most shameful 
 confusion to be deluded by it, that when thus 
 humbled he may know that he is unclean 
 through impurity of the flesh and knowledge 
 of impure desires, — a thing which he had 
 refused to recognize in the pride of his heart; 
 and also that the shameful infection of the 
 
 2 2 Chr. xxiv. 17, iS ; 23-25. 
 
 3 Rom. i. 26, 28. 
 
 * Prov. xvi. 5 (LXX.). 
 
BOOK XII. 
 
 287 
 
 flesh may disclose the hidden impurity of the 
 heart, which he contracted through the sin of 
 pride, and that through the patent pollution 
 of his body he may be proved to be impure, 
 who did not formerly see that he had become 
 unclean through the pride of his spirit. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 That every proud soul is subject to spiritual wickedness to be 
 deceived by it. 
 
 And this clearly shows that every soul of 
 which the swellings of pride have taken pos- 
 session, is given over to the Syrians of the 
 soul, 1 i.e., to spiritual wickedness, and that it 
 is entangled in the lusts of the flesh, that the 
 soul being at last humbled by earthly faults, 
 and carnally polluted, may recognize its un- 
 cleanness, though while it stood erect in the 
 coldness of its heart, it could not understand 
 that through pride of heart it was rendered 
 unclean in the sight of God; and by this 
 means being humbled, a man may get rid of 
 his former coldness, and being cast down and 
 confused with the shame of his fleshly lusts, 
 may thenceforward hasten to betake himself 
 the more eagerly towards fervour and warmth 
 of spirit. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 How perfection can only be attained through the virtue of 
 humility. 
 
 And so it is clearly shown that none can 
 attain the end of perfection and purity, ex- 
 cept through true humility, which he displays 
 in the first instance to the brethren, and shows 
 also to God in his inmost heart, believing 
 that without His protection and aid extended 
 to him at every instant, he cannot possibly 
 obtain the perfection which he desires and to 
 which he hastens so eagerly. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Who are attacked by spiritual and who by carnal pride. 
 
 Thus much let it suffice to have spoken, as 
 far as, by God's help, our slender ability was 
 able, concerning spiritual pride of which we 
 have said that it attacks advanced Christians. 
 And this kind of pride is not familiar to or 
 experienced by most men, because the ma- 
 jority do not aim at attaining perfect purity 
 of heart, so as to arrive at the stage of these 
 
 1 Intellectuals. 
 
 conflicts; nor have they secured any purifica- 
 tion from the preceding faults of which we 
 have here explained both the character and 
 the remedies in separate books. But it gen- 
 erally attacks those only who have conquered 
 the former faults and have already almost ar- 
 rived at the top of the tree in respect of the 
 virtues. And because our most crafty enemy 
 has not been able to destroy them through a 
 carnal fall, he endeavours to cast them down 
 and overthrow them by a spiritual catastrophe, 
 trying by this to rob them of the prizes of 
 their ancient rewards secured as they were 
 with great labour. But as for us, who are still 
 entangled in earthly passions, he never deigns 
 to tempt us in this fashion, but overthrows 
 us by a coarser and what I called a carnal 
 pride. And therefore I think it well, as I 
 promised, to say a few things about this 
 kind of pride by which we and men of our 
 stamp are usually affected, and the minds 
 especially of younger men and beginners are 
 endangered. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 A description of carnal pride, and of the evils which it pro- 
 duces in the soul of a monk. 
 
 This carnal pride therefore, of which we 
 spoke, when it has gained an entrance into 
 the heart of a monk, which is but lukewarm, 
 and has made a bad start in renouncing the 
 world, does not suffer him to stoop from his 
 former state of worldly haughtiness to the true 
 humility of Christ, but first of all makes him 
 disobedient and rough; then it does not let 
 him be gentle and kindly; nor allows him to 
 be on a level with and like his brethren: nor 
 does it permit him to be stripped and de- 
 prived of his worldly goods, as God and our 
 Saviour commands: and, though renunciation 
 of the world is nothing but the mark of mor- 
 tification and the cross, and cannot begin or 
 rise from any other foundations, but these; viz., 
 that a man should recognize that he is not 
 merely spiritually dead to the deeds of this 
 world, but also should realize daily that he 
 must die in the body — it makes him on the 
 contrary hope for a long life, and sets before 
 him many lengthy infirmities, and covers him 
 with shame and confusion. If when stripped of 
 everything he has begun to be supported by 
 the property of others and not his own, it per- 
 suades him that it is much better for food and 
 clothing to be provided for him by his own 
 rather than by another's means according to 
 that text (which, as was before said, 2 those 
 
 2 See Book X. c. xviii. 
 
288 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 who are rendered dense through such dulness 
 and coldness of heart, cannot possibly under- 
 stand.) "It is more blessed to give than to 
 receive." 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 That a man whose foundation is bad, sinks daily from bad to 
 worse. 
 
 Those then who are possessed by such dis- 
 trust of mind, and who through the devil's 
 own want of faith fall away from that spark 
 of faith, by which they seemed in the early 
 days of their conversion to be enkindled, begin 
 more anxiously to watch over the money which 
 before they had begun to give away, and 
 treasure it up with greater avarice, as men 
 who cannot recover again what they have 
 once wasted : or — what is still worse — 
 take back what they had formerly cast away : 
 or else (which is a third and most disgusting 
 kind of sin), collect what they never before 
 possessed, and thus are convicted of having 
 gone no further in forsaking the world than 
 merely to take the name and style of monk. 
 With this beginning therefore, and on this 
 bad and rotten foundation, it is a matter of 
 course that the whole superstructure of faults 
 must rise, nor can anything be built on such 
 villanous foundations, except what will bring 
 the wretched soul to the ground with a hope- 
 less collapse. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 A description of the faults which spring from the evil of pride. 
 
 The mind then that is hardened by such 
 feelings, and which begins with this miserable 
 coldness is sure to go daily from bad to worse 
 and to conclude its life with a more hideous 
 end: and while it takes delight in its former 
 desires, and is overcome, as the apostle says, 
 by impious avarice (as he says of it "and 
 .covetousness, which is idolatry, or the worship 
 of idols," and again "the love of money," 
 says he, "is the root of all evils " *) can never 
 admit into the heart the true and unfeigned 
 humility of Christ, while the man boasts 
 himself of his high birth, or is puffed up by 
 his position in the world (which he has for- 
 saken in body but not in mind) or is proud 
 of his wealth which he retains to his own 
 destruction ; and because of this he is no 
 longer content to endure the yoke of the 
 monastery, or to be instructed by the teach- 
 ing of any of the elders, and not only objects 
 
 to observe any rule of subjection or obedience, 
 but will not even listen to teaching about 
 perfection ; and such dislike of spiritual talk 
 grows up in his heart that if such a conversa- 
 tion should happen to arise, he cannot keep 
 his eyes fixed on one spot, but his gaze wan- 
 ders blankly about here and there, and his 
 eyes shift hither and thither, as the custom is. 
 Instead of wholesome coughs, he spits from 
 a dry throat: he coughs on purpose without 
 any need, he drums with his fingers, and twid- 
 dles them and scribbles like a man writing: 
 and all his limbs fidget so that whiie the spir- 
 itual conversation is proceeding, you would 
 think that he was sitting on thorns, and those 
 very sharp ones, or in the midst of a mass of 
 worms : and if the conversation turns in all 
 simplicity on something which is for the good 
 of the hearers, he thinks that it is brought 
 forward for his especial benefit. And all the 
 time that the examination of the spiritual life 
 is proceeding, he is taken up with his own 
 suspicious thoughts, and is not on the watch 
 for something to take home for his good, but 
 is anxiously seeking the reason why anything 
 is said, or is quietly turning over in his mind, 
 how he can raise objections to it, so that he 
 cannot at all take in any of those things 
 which are so admirably brought forward, or 
 be done any good to by them. And so the 
 result is that the spiritual conference is not 
 merely of no. use to him, but is positively 
 injurious, and becomes to him an occasion 
 of greater sin. For while he is conscience 
 stricken and fancies that everything is being 
 aimed at him he hardens himself more stub- 
 bornly in the obstinacy of his heart, and is 
 more keenly affected by the stings of his 
 wrath: then afterwards his voice is loud, his 
 talk harsh, his answers bitter and noisy, 
 his gait lordly and capricious ; his tongue too 
 ready, he is forward in conversation and no 
 friend to silence except when he is nursing in 
 his heart some bitterness against a brother, 
 and his silence denotes not compunction or 
 humility, but pride and wrath: so that one 
 can hardly say which is the more objection- 
 able in him, that unrestrained and boisterous 
 merriment, or this dreadful and deadly solem- 
 nity. 3 For in the former we see inopportune 
 chattering, light and frivolous laughter, unre- 
 strained and undisciplined mirth. In the 
 latter a silence that is full of wrath and deadly; 
 and which simply arises from the desire to 
 prolong as long as possible the rancorous 
 feelings which are nourished in silence against 
 some brother, and not from the wish to obtain 
 from it the virtues of humility and patience. 
 
 1 Acts xx. 35. 
 
 2 Col. iii. 5 ; 1 Tim. vi. 10. 
 
 3 Serietas (Petschenig) : Taciturnitas (Gaz^us). 
 
BOOK XII. 
 
 289 
 
 And as the man who is a victim to passion 
 readily makes everybody else miserable and is 
 ashamed to apologize to the brother whom he 
 has wronged, so when the brother offers to do 
 so to him, he rejects it with scorn. And not 
 only is he not touched or softened by the ad- 
 vances of his brother ; but is the rather made 
 more angry because his brother anticipates 
 him in humility. And that wholesome hu- 
 miliation and apology, which generally puts 
 an end to the devil's temptation, becomes to 
 him an occasion of a worse outbreak. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 On the pride of a certain brother. 
 
 I have heard while I have been in this dis- 
 trict a thing which I shudder and am ashamed 
 to recall; viz., that one of the juniors — when he 
 was reproved by his Abbot because he had 
 shown signs of throwing off the humility, of 
 which he had made trial for a short time at 
 his renunciation of the world, and of being 
 puffed up with diabolical pride — most im- 
 pertinently answered " Did I humiliate myself 
 for a time on purpose to be always in subjec- 
 tion? " And at this wanton and wicked reply 
 of his the elder was utterly aghast, and could 
 say nothing, as if he had received this answer 
 from old Lucifer himself and not from a man; 
 so that he could not possibly utter a word 
 against such impudence, but only let fall sighs 
 and groans from his heart; turning over in 
 silence in his mind that which is said of our 
 Saviour: "Who being in the form of God 
 humbled Himself and became obedient" — 
 not, as the man said who was seized with a 
 diabolical spirit of pride, "for a time," but 
 " even to death." x 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 The signs by which you can recognize the presence of carnal 
 pride in a soul. 
 
 And to draw together briefly what has been 
 said of this kind of pride, by collecting, as well 
 as we can, some of its signs that we may some- 
 how convey to those who are thirsting for in- 
 struction in perfection, an idea of its charac- 
 teristics from the movements of the outward 
 man: I think it well to unfold them in a few 
 words that we may conveniently recognize the 
 signs by which we can discern and detect it, 
 that when the roots of this passion are laid 
 bare and brought to the surface, and seen and 
 
 Phil. ii. 6, 8. 
 
 traced out with ocular demonstration, they 
 may be the more easily plucked up and 
 avoided. For only then will this most pesti- 
 lent evil be altogether escaped, and if we do 
 not begin too late in the day, when it has 
 already got the mastery over us, to be on our 
 guard against its dangerous heat and noxious 
 influence, but if, recognizing its symptoms 
 (so to speak) beforehand, we take precautions 
 against it with wise and careful forethought. 
 For, as we said before, you can tell a man's 
 inward condition from his outward gait. By 
 these signs, then, that carnal pride, of which 
 we spoke earlier, is shown. To begin with, 
 in conversation the man's voice is loud: in 
 his silence there is bitterness : in his mirth 
 his laughter is noisy and excessive: when he 
 is serious he is unreasonably gloomy: in his 
 answers there is rancour : he is too free with 
 his tongue, his words tumbling out at random 
 without being weighed. He is utterly lacking 
 in patience, and without charity : impudent in 
 offering insults to others, faint-hearted in 
 bearing them himself: troublesome in the 
 matter of obedience except where his own 
 wishes and likings correspond with his duty: 
 unforgiving in receiving admonition : weak in 
 giving up his own wishes : very stubborn about 
 yielding to those of others : always trying to 
 compass his own ends, and never ready to 
 give them up for others : and thus the result 
 is that though he is incapable of giving sound 
 advice, yet in everything he prefers his own 
 opinion to that of the elders. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 How when a man has grown cold through pride he wants to 
 be put to rule other people. 
 
 And when a man whom pride has mastered 
 has fallen through these stages of descent, he 
 shudders at the discipline of the ccenobium, 
 and — as if the companionship of the brethren 
 hindered his perfection, and the sins of others 
 impeded and interfered with his advance in 
 patience and humility — he longs to take up 
 his abode in a solitary cell ; or else is eager to 
 build a monastery and gather together some 
 others to teach and instruct, as if he would do 
 good to many more people, and make him- 
 self from being a bad disciple a still worse 
 master. For when through this pride of heart 
 a man has fallen into this most dangerous and 
 injurious coldness, he can neither be a real 
 monk nor a man of the world, and what is 
 worse, promises to himself to gain perfection 
 by means of this wretched state and manner 
 of life of his. 
 
290 
 
 THE INSTITUTES OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 How we can overcome pride and attain perfection. 
 
 Wherefore if we wish the summit of our 
 building to be perfect and to rise well-pleas- 
 ing to God, we should endeavour to lay its 
 foundations not in accordance with the desires 
 of our own lust, but according to the rules 
 of evangelical strictness : which can only be 
 the fear of God and humility, proceeding from 
 kindness and simplicity of heart. But hu- 
 mility cannot possibly be acquired without 
 giving up everything : and as long as a man is 
 a stranger to this, he cannot possibly attain 
 the virtue of obedience, or the strength of 
 patience, or the serenity of kindness, or the 
 perfection of love ; without which things our 
 hearts cannot possibly be a habitation for the 
 Holy Spirit: as the Lord says through the 
 prophet: " Upon whom shall My spirit rest, 
 but on him that is humble and quiet and fears 
 My words, " or according to those copies which 
 express the Hebrew accurately: "To whom 
 shall I have respect, but to him that is poor 
 and little and of a contrite spirit and that 
 trembleth at My words?" 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 How pride which is so destructive of all virtues can itself be 
 destroyed by true humility. 
 
 Wherefore the Christian athlete who 
 strives lawfully in the spiritual combat and 
 desires to be crowned by the Lord, should 
 endeavour by every means to destroy this most 
 fierce beast, which is destructive of all virtues, 
 knowing that as long as this remains in his 
 breast he not only will never be free from all 
 kinds of evils, but even if he seems to have 
 any good qualities, will lose them by its ma- 
 lign influence. For no structure (so to speak) 
 of virtue can possibly be raised in our soul un- 
 less first the foundations of true humility are 
 
 1 Is. lxvi. 2. It is noteworthy that Cassian after giving a render- 
 ing which differs but slightly from that of the old Latin, as given in 
 Sabbatier's great work, adds the version of "those copies which 
 express the Hebrew accurately," and thus shows his acquaintance 
 with Jerome's new translation which he quotes. He does the same 
 thing again in the Conferences, XXIII. viii.; and On the Incarnation 
 Against Nestorius IV. iii. ; V. ii. : xv. Compare also Institutes 
 VIII. xxi., and Coilf. VIII. x., where he also betrays a knowledge 
 of the Vulgate. As a general rule, however, his translations are taken 
 from the old Latin, or possiblv in some cases are made by him from 
 the LXX. 
 
 laid in our heart, which being securely laid 
 may be able to bear the weight of perfection 
 and love upon them in such a way that, as we 
 have said, we may first show to our brethren 
 true humility from the very bottom of our 
 heart, in nothing acquiescing in making them 
 sad or in injuring them: and this we cannot 
 possibly manage unless true self-denial, which 
 consists in stripping and depriving ourselves 
 of all our possessions, is implanted in us by 
 the love of Christ. Next the yoke of obedience 
 and subjection must be taken up in simplicity 
 of heart without any pretence, so that, except 
 for the commands of the Abbot, no will of our 
 own is alive in us. But this can only be en- 
 sured in the case of one who considers himself 
 not only dead to this world, but also unwise 
 and a fool ; and performs without any discus- 
 sion whatever is enjoined him by his seniors, 
 believing it to be divine and enjoined from 
 heaven. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 Remedies against the evil of pride. 
 
 And when men remain in this condition, 
 there is no doubt that this quiet and secure 
 state of humility will follow, so that consider- 
 ing ourselves inferior to every one else we shall 
 bear everything offered to us, even if it is 
 hurtful, and saddening, and damaging — with 
 the utmost patience, as if it came from those 
 who are our superiors. And these things we 
 shall not only bear with the greatest ease, but 
 we shall consider them trifling and mere 
 nothings, if we constantly bear in mind the 
 passion of our Lord and of all His Saints: 
 considering that the injuries by which we are 
 tried are so much less than theirs, as we are 
 so far behind their merits and their lives: 
 remembering also that we shall shortly depart 
 out of this world, and soon by a speedy end 
 to our life here become sharers of their lot. 
 For considerations such as these are a sure 
 end not only to pride but to all kinds of sins. 
 Then, next after this we must keep a firm grasp 
 of this same humility towards God: which we 
 must so secure as not only to acknowledge 
 that we cannot possibly perform anything con- 
 nected with the attainment of perfect virtue 
 without His assistance and grace, but also 
 truly to believe that this very fact that we can 
 understand this, is His own gift. 
 
THE CONFERENCES OF JOHN CASSIAN 
 
 PART I. 
 
 CONTAINING CONFERENCES l-X. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The obligation, which was promised to the blessed Pope Castor in the preface to those 
 volumes which with God's help I composed in twelve books on the Institutes of the Cceno- 
 bia, and the remedies for the eight principal faults, has now been, as far as my feeble ability 
 permitted, satisfied. I should certainly like to see what was the opinion fairly arrived at on 
 this work both by his judgment and yours, whether, on a matter so profound and so lofty, 
 and one which has never yet been made the subject of a treatise, we have produced anything 
 worthy of your notice, and of the eager desire of all the holy brethren. But now as the afore- 
 said Bishop has left us and departed to Christ, meanwhile these ten Conferences of the grand- 
 est of the fathers, viz., the Anchorites who dwelt in the desert of Scete, which he, fired with 
 an incomparable desire for saintliness, had bidden me write for him in the same style (not 
 considering in tha greatness of his affection, what a burden he placed on shoulders too weak 
 to bear it) — these Conferences I have thought good to dedicate to you in particular, O blessed 
 Pope, : Leontius, 2 and holy brother Helladius. 3 For one of you was united to him whom I 
 have mentioned, by the ties of brotherhood, and the rank of the priesthood, and (what is 
 more to the point) by fervour in sacred study, and so has an hereditary right to demand 
 the debt due to his brother: while the other has ventured to follow the sublime customs of 
 the Anchorites, not like some others, presumptuously on his own account, but seizing, at the 
 inspiration of the Holy Ghost, on the right path of doctrine almost before he had been taught 
 and choosing to learn not so much from his own ideas as from their traditions. Wherein 
 just as I had anchored in the harbour of Silence, a wide sea opens out before me, so that I 
 must venture to hand down for posterity some of the Institutes and teaching of these great men. 
 For the bark of my slender abilities will be exposed to the dangers of a longer voyage on the 
 deep, in proportion as the Anchorite's life is grander than that of the Ccenobium, and the con- 
 templation of God, to which those inestimable men ever devoted themselves, more sublime 
 than ordinary practical life. It is yours therefore to assist our efforts by your pious prayers 
 for fear lest so sacred a subject that is to be treated in an untried but faithful manner, should 
 be imperilled by us, or lest our simplicity should lose itself in the depths of the subject 
 matter. Let us therefore pass from what is visible to the eye and the external mode of life of 
 the monks, of which we treated in the former books, to the life of the inner man, which is 
 hidden from view; and from the system of the canonical prayers, let our discourse mount to 
 that continuance in unceasing prayer, which the Apostle enjoins, that whoever has through 
 reading our former work already spiritually gained the name of Jacob by ousting his car- 
 nal faults, may now by the reception of the Institutes which are not mine but the fathers', 
 mount by a pure insight to the merits and (so to speak) the dignity of Israel, and in the 
 
 1 Papa. See note on the Preface to the Institutes. 
 
 2 The see of which Leontius was Bishop is uncertain, possibly Frejus. 
 
 3 Helladius was afterwards raised to the Episcopate, but of what see is unknown. See the Preface to Conf. XVIII. 
 
 ^93 
 
294 PREFACE. 
 
 same way be taught what it is that he should observe on these lofty heights of perfection. 1 
 And so may your prayers gain from Him, Who has deemed us worthy both to see them and to 
 learn from them and to dwell with them, that He will vouchsafe to grant us a perfect recol- 
 lection of their teaching, and a ready tongue to tell it, that we may explain them as 
 beautifully and as exactly as we received them from them and may succeed in setting before 
 you the men themselves incorporated, as it were, in their own Institutes, and what is more to 
 the point, speaking in the Latin tongue. Of this however we wish above all to advertise the 
 reader of these Conferences as well as of our earlier works, that if there chances to be any- 
 thing herein which by reason of his condition and the character of his profession, or owing 
 to custom and the common mode of life seems to him either impossible or very difficult, he 
 should measure it not by the limits of his own powers but by the worth and perfection of 
 the speakers, whose zeal and purpose he should first consider, as they were truly dead to 
 this worldly life, and so hampered by no feelings for their kinsmen according to the flesh, 
 and by no ties of worldly occupations. Next let him bear in mind the character of the country 
 in which they dwelt, how they lived in a vast desert, and were cut off from intercourse 
 with all their fellow-men, and thus were able to have their minds enlightened, and to con- 
 template, and utter those things which perhaps will seem impossibilities to the uninitiated 
 and uninstructed, because of their way of life and the commonplace character of their habits. 
 But if any one wants to give a true opinion on this matter, and is anxious to try whether 
 such perfection can be attained, let him first endeavour to make their purpose his own, with 
 the same zeal and the same mode of life, and then in the end he will find that those things 
 which used to seem beyond the powers of men, are not only possible, but really delightful. 
 But now let us proceed at once to their Conferences and Institutes. 
 
 1 The allusion is rather forced and strained. But Cassian means to say that those who have got the better of their carnal sins by 
 perusing'his former work, are already fit to be named Jacob (the supplanter), who got the better of his brother: and he hopes that 
 this new work of his will give them such a view of God and insight into His dealings that they may be worthy to have their name 
 changed, as Jacob's was, to Israel, which he takes to mean the man seeing God. Cf. the note on Against Nestorius, VII. ix. (intelligi- 
 bilis here = spiritualis, cf. iutellectualis. Conf. XII. xi., and elsewhere). 
 
CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES. 
 
 Of our stay in Scete, and that which we proposed to Abbot 
 Moses. 
 
 When I was in the desert of Scete, where 
 are the most excellent monastic fathers and 
 where all perfection flourishes, in company 
 with the holy father Germanus (who had since 
 the earliest days and commencement of our 
 
 CHAPTER I. own, on which the diligent pursuer of each art 
 
 has his eye, and so endures all sorts of toils 
 and dangers and losses, cheerfully and with 
 equanimity, e.g., the farmer, shunning nei- 
 ther at one time the scorching heat of the sun, 
 nor at another the frost and cold, cleaves the 
 earth unweariedly, and again and again sub- 
 jects the clods of his field to his ploughshare, 
 while he keeps before him his goal; viz., by 
 
 spiritual service been my closest companion ! dili f ent \ abou ' to break '* JP. sma11 \ ike fine 
 both in the ccenobium and in the desert, so ! f nd ' and to clear lt of a11 bners ' and free xt 
 
 that to show the harmony of our friendship 
 and aims, everybody would say that a single 
 heart and soul existed in our two bodies), I 
 sought out Abbot Moses, 1 who was eminent 
 amid those splendid flowers, not only in practi- 
 cal but also in contemplative excellence, in 
 my anxiety to be grounded by his instruction : 
 and together we implored him to give us a dis- 
 course for our edification ; not without tears, 
 for we knew full well his determination never 
 to consent to open the gate of perfection, ex 
 
 from all weeds, as he believes that in no 
 other way can he gain his ultimate end, which 
 is to secure a good harvest, and a large crop ; 
 on which he can either live himself free from 
 care, or can increase his possessions. Again, 
 when his barn is well stocked he is quite 
 ready to empty it, and with incessant labour 
 to commit the seed to the crumbling furrow, 
 thinking nothing of the present lessening of 
 his stores in view of the future harvest. Those 
 men too who are engaged in mercantile pur- 
 
 cept to those who desired it with all faithful- j suks ' hav J £° dread of *% uncertainties and 
 
 ness, and sought it with all sorrow of heart; 
 for fear lest if he showed it at random to 
 those who cared nothing for it, or only desired 
 it in a half-hearted way, by opening what is 
 necessary, and what ought only to be discov- 
 ered to those seeking perfection, to unworthy 
 persons, and such as accepted it with scorn, he 
 might appear to lay himself open either to the 
 charge of bragging, or to the sin of betraying 
 his trust; and at last being overcome by our 
 prayers he thus began. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Of the question of Abbot Moses, who asked what was the goal 
 and what the end of the monk. 
 
 All the arts and sciences, said he, have 
 some goal or mark; and end or aim of their 
 
 1 On this Moses see the note on the Institutes, Book X. xxv. 
 
 chances of the ocean, and fear no risks, while 
 an eager hope urges them forward to their aim 
 of gain. Moreover those who are inflamed with 
 the ambition of military life, while they look 
 forward to their aim of honours and power take 
 no notice of danger and destruction in their 
 wanderings, and are not crushed by present 
 losses and wars, while they are eager to obtain 
 the end of some honour held out to them. 
 And our profession too has its own goal and 
 end, for which we undergo all sorts of toils 
 not merely without weariness but actually 
 with delight; on account of which the want of 
 food in fasting is no trial to us, the weariness 
 of our vigils becomes a delight; reading and 
 constant meditation on the Scriptures does not 
 pall upon us; and further incessant toil, and 
 self-denial, and the privation of all things, 
 and the horrors also of this vast desert have 
 no terrors for us. And doubtless for this it 
 was that you yourselves despised the love of 
 
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296 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 kinsfolk, and scorned your fatherland, and 
 the delights of this world, and passed through 
 so many countries, in order that you might 
 come to us, plain and simple folk as we are, 
 living in this wretched state in the desert. 
 Wherefore, said he, answer and tell me what 
 is the goal and end, which incite you to en- 
 dure all these things so cheerfully. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Of our reply. 
 
 And when he insisted on eliciting an opinion 
 from us on this question, we replied that we 
 endured all this for the sake of the kingdom 
 of heaven. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Of Abbot Moses' question on the aforesaid statement. 
 
 To which he replied: Good, you have spo- 
 ken cleverly of the (ultimate) end. But what 
 should be our (immediate) goal or mark, by 
 constantly sticking close to which we can gain 
 our end, you ought first to know. And when 
 we frankly confessed our ignorance, he pro- 
 ceeded: The first thing, as I said, in all the 
 arts and sciences is to have some goal, i.e., 
 a mark for the mind, and constant mental 
 purpose, for unless a man keeps this before 
 him with all diligence and persistence, he 
 will never succeed in arriving at the ultimate 
 aim and the gain which he desires. For, as 
 I said, the farmer who has for his aim to live 
 free from care and with plenty, while his crops 
 are springing has this as his immediate object 
 and goal; viz., to keep his field clear from all 
 brambles, and weeds, and does not fancy that 
 he can otherwise ensure wealth and a peace- 
 ful end, unless he first secures by some plan 
 of work and hope that which he is anxious to 
 obtain. The business man too does not lay 
 aside the desire of procuring wares, by means 
 of which he may more profitably amass riches, 
 because he would desire gain to no purpose, 
 unless* he chose the road which leads to it: 
 and those men who are anxious to be deco- 
 rated with the honours of this world, first 
 make up their minds to what duties and con- 
 ditions they must devote themselves, that in 
 the regular course of hope they may succeed 
 in gaining the honours they desire. And so 
 the end of our way of life is indeed the kingdom 
 of God. But what is the (immediate) goal you 
 must earnestly ask, for if it is not in the same 
 way discovered by us, we shall strive and 
 wear ourselves out to no purpose, because a 
 
 man who is travelling in a wrong direction, has 
 all the trouble and gets none of the good of 
 his journey. And when we stood gaping at 
 this remark, the old man proceeded: The 
 end of our profession indeed, as I said, is 
 the kingdom of God or the kingdom of heaven : 
 but the immediate aim or goal, is purity of 
 heart, without which no one can gain that 
 end : fixing our gaze then steadily on this goal, 
 as if on a definite mark, let us direct our 
 course as straight towards it as possible, and 
 if our thoughts wander somewhat from this, 
 let us revert to our gaze upon it, and check 
 them accurately as by a sure standard, which 
 will always bring back all our efforts to this 
 one mark, and will show at once if our mind 
 has wandered ever so little from the direc- 
 tion marked out for it. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A comparison with a man who is trying to hit a mark. 
 
 As those, whose business it is to use wea- 
 pons of war, whenever they want to show their 
 skill in their art before a king of this world, 
 try to shoot their arrows or darts into certain 
 small targets which have the prizes painted 
 on them ; for they know that they cannot in any 
 other way than by the line of their aim se- 
 cure the end and the prize they hope for, 
 which they will only then enjoy when they 
 have been able to hit the mark set before 
 them; but if it happens to be withdrawn from 
 their sight, however much in their want of 
 skill their aim may vainly deviate from the 
 straight path, yet they cannot perceive that 
 they have strayed from the direction of the 
 intended straight line because they have no 
 distinct mark to prove the skilfulness of their 
 aim, or to show up its badness: and therefore 
 while they shoot their missiles idly into space, 
 they cannot see how they have gone wrong or 
 how utterly at fault they are, since no mark is 
 their accuser, showing how far they have gone 
 astray from the right direction; nor can an 
 unsteady look help them to correct and restore 
 the straight line enjoined on them. So then 
 the end indeed which we have set before us is, 
 as the Apostle says, eternal life, as he declares, 
 "having indeed your fruit unto holiness, and 
 the end eternal life;" 1 but the immediate 
 goal is purity of heart, which he not unfairly 
 terms " sanctification, : ' without which the 
 afore-mentioned end cannot be gained; as if 
 he had said in other words, having your im- 
 mediate goal in purity of heart, but the end 
 
 1 Rom. vi. 22. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES. 
 
 297 
 
 life eternal. Of which goal the same blessed 
 Apostle teaches us, and significantly uses the 
 very term, i.e., oxonuc, saying as follows, 
 " Forgetting those things which are behind and 
 reaching forward to those that are before, 
 I press toward the mark, for the prize of the 
 high calling of the Lord: " l which is more 
 clearly put in Greek xar& axonbv diw-/.o>, i.e., " I 
 press toward the mark," as if he said, "With 
 this aim, with which I forget those things that 
 are behind, i.e., the faults of earlier life, I 
 strive to reach as the end the heavenly prize. " 
 Whatever then can help to guide us to this 
 object; viz., purity of heart, we must follow 
 with all our might, but whatever hinders us 
 from it, we must shun as a dangerous and 
 hurtful thing. For, for this we do and endure 
 all things, for this we make light of our kins- 
 folk, our country, honours, riches, the delights 
 of this world, and all kinds of pleasures, 
 namely in order that we may retain a lasting 
 purity of heart. And so when this object is 
 set before us, we shall always direct our 
 actions and thoughts straight towards the 
 attainment of it; for if it be not constantly 
 fixed before our eyes, it will not only make 
 all our toils vain and useless, and force them 
 to be endured to no purpose and without any 
 reward, but it will also excite all kinds of 
 thoughts opposed to one another. For the 
 mind, which has no fixed point to which it may 
 return, and on which it may chiefly fasten, 
 is sure to rove about from hour to hour and 
 minute to minute in all sorts of wandering 
 thoughts, and from those things which come 
 to it from outside, to be constantly changed 
 into that state which first offers itself to it. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Of those who in renouncing the world, aim at perfection with- 
 out love. 
 
 For hence it arises that in the case of 
 some who have despised the greatest posses- 
 sions of this world, and not only large sums of 
 gold and silver, but also large properties, we 
 have seen them afterwards disturbed and ex- 
 cited over a knife, or pencil, or pin, or pen. 
 Whereas if they kept their gaze steadily fixed 
 out of a pure heart they would certainly never 
 allow such a thing to happen for trifles, while 
 in order that they might not suffer it in the case 
 of great and precious riches they chose rather to 
 renounce them altogether. For often too some 
 guard their books so jealously that they will 
 not allow them to be even slightly moved or 
 touched by any one else, and from this fact 
 
 1 Phil. iii. 13, 14. 
 
 they meet with occasions of impatience and 
 death, which give them warning of the need of 
 acquiring the requisite patience and love; and 
 when they have given up all their wealth for 
 the love of Christ, yet as they preserve their 
 former disposition in the matter of trifles, and 
 are sometimes quickly upset about them, they 
 become in all points barren and unfruitful, as 
 those who are without the charity of which the 
 Apostle speaks : and this the blessed Apostle 
 foresaw in spirit, and "though," says he, "I 
 give all my goods to feed the poor, and give 
 my body to be burned, but have not charity, 
 it profiteth me nothing." 2 And from this it 
 clearly follows that perfection is not arrived at 
 simply by self-denial, and the giving up of all 
 our goods, and the casting away of honours, 
 unless there is that charity, the details of 
 which the Apostle describes, which consists 
 in purity of heart alone. For "not to be 
 envious," "not to be puffed up, not to be 
 angry, not to do any wrong, not to seek one's 
 own, not to rejoice in iniquity, not to think 
 evil," etc., what is all this except ever to 
 offer to God a perfect and clean heart, and to 
 keep it free from all disturbances? 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 How peace of mind should be sought. 
 
 Everything should be done and sought after 
 by us for the sake of this. For this we must 
 seek for solitude, for this we know that we 
 ought to submit to fastings, vigils, toils, bodily 
 nakedness, reading, and all other virtues that 
 through them we may be enabled to prepare 
 our heart and to keep it unharmed by all evil 
 passions, and resting on these steps to mount 
 to the perfection of charity, and with regard to 
 these observances, if by accident we have been 
 employed in some good and useful occupation 
 and have been unable to carry out our custom- 
 ary discipline, we should not be overcome 
 by vexation or anger, or passion, with the ob- 
 ject of overcoming which, we were going to do 
 that which we have omitted. For the gain 
 from fasting will not balance the loss from 
 anger, nor is the profit from reading so great 
 as the harm which results from despising a 
 brother. Those things which are of secondary 
 importance, such as fastings, vigils, with- 
 drawal from the world, meditation on Scrip- 
 ture, we ought to practise with a view to our 
 main object, i.e., purity of heart, which is 
 charity, and we ought not on their account to 
 drive away this main virtue, for as long as it 
 is still found in us intact and unharmed, we 
 
 2 1 Cor. xiii. 3. 
 
298 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 shall not be hurt if any of the things which 
 are of secondary importance are necessarily 
 omitted; since it will not be of the slightest 
 use to have done everything, if this main 
 reason of which we have spoken be removed, 
 for the sake of which everything is to be done. 
 For on this account one is anxious to secure 
 and provide for one's self the implements for 
 any branch of work, not simply to possess them 
 to no purpose, nor as if one made ihe profit 
 and advantage, which is looked for from them, 
 to consist in the bare fact of possession but 
 that by using them, one may effectually secure 
 practical knowledge and the end of that par- 
 ticular art of which they are auxiliaries. 
 Therefore fastings, vigils, meditation on the 
 Scriptures, self-denial, and the abnegation of 
 all possesions are not perfection, but aids to 
 perfection : because the end of that science 
 does not lie in these, but by means of these we 
 arrive at the end. He then will practise these 
 exercises to no purpose, who is contented 
 with these as if they were the highest good, 
 and has fixed the purpose of his heart simply 
 on them, and does not extend his efforts 
 towards reaching the end, on account of which 
 these should be sought : for he possesses in- 
 deed the implements of his art, but is igno- 
 rant of the end, in which all that is valuable 
 resides. Whatever then can disturb that pu- 
 rity and peace of mind — even though it may 
 seem useful and valuable — should be shunned 
 as really hurtful, for by this rule Ave shall suc- 
 ceed in escaping harm from mistakes and va- 
 garies, and make straight for the desired end 
 and reach it. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Of the main effort towards the contemplation of heavenly 
 things and an illustration from the case of Martha and 
 Mary. 
 
 This then should be our main effort: and 
 this steadfast purpose of heart we should con- 
 stantly aspire after; viz., that the soul may 
 ever cleave to God and to heavenly things. 
 Whatever is alien to this, however great it 
 may be, should be given the second place, or 
 even treated as of no consequence, or perhaps 
 as hurtful. We have an excellent illustration 
 of this state of mind and condition in the gos- 
 pel in the case of Martha and Mary : for when 
 Martha was performing a seryice that was cer- 
 tainly a sacred one, since she was ministering 
 to the Lord and His disciples, and Mary being 
 intent only on spiritual instruction was cling- 
 ing close to the feet of Jesus which she kissed 
 and anointed with the ointment of a good con- 
 fession, she is shown by the Lord to have 
 chosen the better part, and one which should 
 
 not be taken away from her : for when Martha 
 was toiling with pious care, and was cumbered 
 about her service, seeing that of herself alone 
 she was insufficient for such service she 
 asks for the help of her sister from the Lord, 
 saying : " Carest Thou not that my sister has 
 left me to serve alone : bid her therefore that 
 she help me" — certainly it was to no unworthy 
 work, but to a praiseworthy service that she 
 summoned her: and yet what does she hear 
 from the Lord? "Martha, Martha, thou art 
 anxious and troubled about many things : but 
 few things are needful, or only one. Mary 
 hath chosen the good part, which shall not be 
 taken away from her. ' ' x You see then that the 
 Lord makes the chief good consist in medita- 
 tion, i.e., in divine contemplation: whence we 
 see that all other virtues should be put in the 
 second place, even though we admit that they 
 are necessary, and useful, and excellent, be- 
 cause they are all performed for the sake of 
 this one thing. For when the Lord says : 
 "Thou art careful and troubled about many 
 things, but few things are needful or only 
 one," He makes the chief good consist not in 
 practical work however praiseworthy and rich 
 in fruits it may be, but in contemplation of 
 Him, which indeed is simple and "but one "; 
 declaring that "few things" are needful for 
 perfect bliss, i.e., that contemplation which is 
 first secured by reflecting on a few saints : from 
 the contemplation of whom, he who has made 
 some progress rises and attains«by God's help 
 to that which is termed "one thing," i.e., the 
 consideration of God alone, so as to get beyond 
 those actions and services of saints, and feed 
 on the beauty and knowledge of God alone. 
 " Mary" therefore "chose the good part, which 
 shall not be taken away from her." And this 
 must be more carefully considered. For when 
 He says that Mary chose the good part, al- 
 though He says nothing of Martha, and cer- 
 tainly does not appear to blame her, yet in 
 praising the one, He implies that the other is 
 inferior. Again when He says "which shall 
 not be taken away from her ' ' He shows that 
 from the other her portion can be taken away 
 (for a bodily ministry cannot last forever with 
 a man), but teaches that this one's desire can 
 never have an end. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A question how it is that the practice of virtue cannot remain 
 with a man. 
 
 To which we, being deeply moved, replied 
 what then? will the effort of fasting, dili- 
 
 1 S. Luke x. 40-42. The reading which Cassian here follows is 
 found in NBC, 2 but has not much Latin authority. It is however 
 

 FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES. 
 
 299 
 
 gence in reading, works of mercy, justice, 
 piety, and kindness, be taken away from us, 
 and not continue with the doers of them, es- 
 pecially since the Lord Himself promises the 
 reward of the kingdom of heaven to these 
 works, when He says: "Come, ye blessed of 
 My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for 
 you from the beginning of the world. For I 
 was an hungred, and ye gave Me to eat; I was 
 thirsty and ye gave Me to drink : " etc. x How 
 then shall these works be taken away, which 
 admit the doers of them into the kingdom of 
 heaven ? 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The answer that not the reward, but the doing of them will 
 come to an end. 
 
 Moses. I did not say that the reward for 
 a good work would be taken away, as the Lord 
 Himself says: "Whosoever shall give to one 
 of the least of these, a cup of cold water only 
 in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto 
 you, he shall not lose his reward:" 2 but I 
 maintain that the doing of a thing, which 
 either bodily necessity, or the onslaught of the 
 flesh, or the inequalities of this world, com- 
 pel to be done, will be taken away. For dili- 
 gence in reading, and self-denial in fasting, 
 are usefully practised for purifying the heart 
 and chastening the flesh in this life only, as 
 long as "the flesh lusteth against the spirit," 3 
 and sometimes we see that even in this life 
 they are taken away from those men who are 
 worn out with excessive toil, or bodily infirm- 
 ity or old age, and cannot be practised by 
 them. How much more then will they come 
 to an end hereafter, when "this corruptible 
 shall have put on incorruption," 4 and the 
 body which is now " a natural body " shall have 
 risen " a spiritual body " 5 and the flesh shall 
 have begun to be such that it no longer lusts 
 against the spirit? And of this the blessed 
 Apostle also clearly speaks, when he says that 
 " bodily exercise is profitable for a little: but 
 godliness " (by which he certainly means love) 
 " is profitable for all things, having the promise 
 of the life that now is and of that which is to 
 come." 6 This clearly shows that what is said 
 to be useful for a little, is not to be practised 
 for all time, and cannot possibly by itself 
 alone confer the highest state of perfection on 
 the man who slaves at it. For the term "for 
 a little " may mean either of the two things, 
 
 followed by Jerome Ep : ad Eustochium, xxii. 24, though the Vul- 
 gate has simply Porro unum est necessarium. For Mary as the type 
 of the contemplative life, and Martha of the practical, compare S. 
 Gregory the Great. Moralia VI. c. xxviii. 
 
 1 S. Matt. xxv. 34, 35. 3 Gal. v. 17. G 1 Cor. xv. 44. 
 
 2 S. Matt. x. 42. * 1 Cor. xv. 53. ° 1 Tim. iv. 8. 
 
 i.e., it may refer to the shortness of the time, 
 because bodily exercise cannot possibly last 
 on with man both in this life and in the world 
 to come : or it may refer to the smallness of 
 the profit which results from exercising the 
 flesh, because bodily austerities produce some 
 sort of beginnings of progress, but not the 
 actual perfection of love, which has the prom- 
 ise of the life that now is and of that which 
 is to come : and therefore we deem that the 
 practice of the aforesaid works is needful, 
 because without them we cannot climb the 
 heights of love. For what you call works of 
 religion and mercy are needful in this life 
 while these inequalities and differences of 
 conditions still prevail ; but even here we 
 should not look for them to be performed, un- 
 less such a large proportion of poor, needy, 
 and sick folk abounded, which is brought 
 about by the wickedness of men ; viz., of those 
 who have grasped and kept for their own use 
 (without however using them) those things 
 which were granted to all by the Creator of all 
 alike. As long then as this inequality lasts in 
 this world, this sort of work will be needful 
 and useful to the man that practises it, as it 
 brings to a good purpose and pious will the 
 reward of an eternal inheritance : but it will 
 come to an end in the life to come, where 
 equality will reign, when there will be no 
 longer inequality, on account of which these 
 things must be done, but all men will pass 
 from these manifold practical works to the 
 love of God, and contemplation of heavenly 
 things in continual purity of heart : to which 
 those men who are urgent in devoting them- 
 selves to knowledge and purifying the heart, 
 have chosen to give themselves up with all 
 their might and main, betaking themselves, 
 while they are still in the flesh, to that duty, 
 in which they are to continue, when they have 
 laid aside corruption, and when they come to 
 that promise of the Lord the Saviour, which 
 says "Blessed are the pure in heart for they 
 shall see God." 7 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 On the abiding character of love. 
 
 And why do you wonder that those duties 
 enumerated above will cease, when the holy 
 Apostle tells us that even the higher gifts of 
 the Holy Spirit will pass away: and points 
 out that charity alone will abide without end, 
 saying "whether there be prophecies, they 
 shall fail ; whether there be tongues, they shall 
 cease : whether there be knowledge, it will 
 
 i S. Matt. v. 8. 
 
too 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 come to an end,'"' but of this he says "Charity 
 never faileth." For all gifts are given for 
 a time as use and need require, but when the 
 dispensation is ended they will without doubt 
 presently pass away: but love will never be 
 destroyed. For not only does it work usefully 
 in us in this world; but also in that to come, 
 when the burden of bodily needs is cast off, 
 it will continue in far greater vigour and ex- 
 cellence, and will never be weakened by any 
 defect, but by means of its perpetual incor- 
 ruption will cling to God more intently and 
 earnestly. x 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A question on perseverance in spiritual contemplation. 
 
 Germ anus. Who then, while he is bur- 
 dened with our frail flesh, can be always so 
 intent on this contemplation, as never to think 
 about the arrival of a brother, or visiting the 
 sick, or manual labour, or at least about 
 showing kindness to strangers and visitors? 
 And lastly, who is not interrupted by pro- 
 viding for the body, and looking after it? Or 
 how and in what way can the mind cling to 
 the invisible and incomprehensible God, this 
 we should like to learn. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The answer concerning the direction of the heart towards God, 
 and concerning the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the 
 devil. 
 
 Moses. To cling to God continually, and 
 as you say inseparably to hold fast to medi- 
 tation on Him, is impossible for a man while 
 still in this weak flesh of ours. But we ought 
 to be aware on what we should have the pur- 
 pose of our mind fixed, and to what goal we 
 should ever recall the gaze of our soul : and 
 when the mind can secure this it may rejoice; 
 and grieve and sigh when it is withdrawn from 
 this, and as often as it discovers itself to have 
 fallen away from gazing on Him, it should 
 admit that it has lapsed from the highest 
 good, considering that even a momentary de- 
 parture from gazing on Christ is fornication. 
 And when our gaze has wandered ever so 
 little from Him, let us turn the eyes of the 
 soul back to Him, and recall our mental gaze 
 as in a perfectly straight direction. For 
 everything depends on the inward frame of 
 mind, and when the devil has been expelled 
 from this, and sins no longer reign in it, it 
 follows that the kingdom of God is founded 
 
 1 i Cor. xiii. 8. 
 
 in us, as the Evangelist says "The kingdom of 
 God cometh not with observation, nor shall 
 men say Lo here, or lo there : for verily I say 
 unto you that the kingdom of God is within 
 you." 2 But nothing else can be "within you," 
 but knowledge or ignorance of truth, and 
 delight either in vice or in virtue, through 
 which we prepare a kingdom for the devil or 
 for Christ in our heart : and of this kingdom 
 the Apostle describes the character, when he 
 says '* For the kingdom of God is not meat and 
 drink, but righteousness and peace and joy in 
 the Holy Ghost." 3 And so if the kingdom 
 of God is within us, and the actual kingdom of 
 God is righteousness and peace and joy, then 
 the man who abides in these is most cer- 
 tainly in the kingdom of God, and on the 
 contrary those who live in unrighteousness, 
 and discord, and the sorrow that worketh 
 death, have their place in the kingdom of the 
 devil, and in hell and death. For by these 
 tokens the kingdom of God and the kingdom 
 of the devil are distinguished: and in truth if 
 lifting up our mental gaze on high we would 
 consider that state in which the heavenly 
 powers live on high, who are truly in the 
 kingdom of God, what should Ave imagine it 
 to be except perpetual and lasting joy? For 
 what is so specially peculiar and appropri- 
 ate to true blessedness as constant calm and 
 eternal joy? And that you may be quite 
 sure that this, which we say, is* really so, not 
 on my own authority but on that of the Lord, 
 hear how very clearly He describes the char- 
 acter and condition of that world: "Behold," 
 says He, " I create new heavens and a new 
 earth: and the former things shall not be 
 remembered nor come into 'mind. But ye 
 shall be glad and rejoice forever in that 
 which I create.'' 4 And again "joy and glad- 
 ness shall be found therein : thanksgiving and 
 the voice of praise, and there shall be month 
 after month, and Sabbath after Sabbath." 5 
 And again: "they shall obtain joy and glad- 
 ness; and sorrow and sighing shall flee away." 6 
 And if you want to know more definitely about 
 that life and the city of the saints, hear what 
 the voice of the Lord proclaims to the heav 
 enly Jerusalem herself: "I will make," says 
 He, "thine officers peace and thine overseers 
 righteousness. Violence shall no more be 
 heard in thy land, desolation nor destruction 
 within thy borders. And salvation shall take 
 possession of thy walls, and praise of thy 
 gates. The sun shall be no more thy light 
 by day, neither shall the brightness of the 
 moon give light to thee : but the Lord shall be 
 
 2 S. Luke xvii. 20, 21. 
 
 3 Rom. xiv. 17. 
 
 * Is. lxv. 17, 18. 
 5 Is. 1L. 3 ; lxvi. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES. 
 
 301 
 
 thine everlasting light, and thy God thy glory. 
 Thy sun shall no more go down, neither shall 
 thy moon withdraw itself : but the Lord shall 
 be thine everlasting light, and the days of thy 
 mourning shall be ended: " x and therefore the 
 holy Apostle does not say generally or with- 
 out qualification that every joy is the kingdom 
 of God, but markedly and emphatically that 
 joy alone which is "in the Holy Ghost." 2 
 For he was perfectly aware of another detest- 
 able joy, of which we hear "the world shall 
 rejoice," 3 and " woe unto you that laugh, for 
 ye shall mourn." 4 In fact the kingdom of 
 heaven must be taken in a threefold sense, 
 either that the heavens shall reign, i.e., the 
 saints over other things subdued, according 
 to this text, " Be thou over five cities, and 
 thou over ten ; " 5 and this which is said to the 
 disciples: " Ye shall sit upon twelve thrones 
 judging the twelve tribes of Israel:" 6 or 
 that the heavens themselves shall begin to 
 be reigned over by Christ, when "all things 
 are subdued unto Him," and God begins to 
 be "all in all:" 7 or else that the saints 
 shall reign in heaven with the Lord. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Of the continuance of the soul. 
 
 Wherefore every one while still existing 
 in this body should already be aware that he 
 must be committed to that state and office, of 
 which he made himself a sharer and an ad- 
 herent while in this life, nor should he doubt 
 that in that eternal world he will be partner 
 of him, whose servant and minister he chose 
 to make himself here : according to that saying 
 of our Lord which says " If any man serve Me, 
 let him follow Me, and where I am, there shall 
 My servant also be. " 8 For as the kingdom of 
 the devil is gained by consenting to sin, so 
 the kingdom of God is attained by the practice 
 of virtue in purity of heart and spiritual know- 
 ledge. But where the kingdom of God is, 
 there most certainly eternal life is enjoyed, 
 and where the kingdom of the devil is, there 
 without doubt is death and the grave. And 
 the man who is in this condition, cannot 
 praise the Lord, according to the saying of 
 the prophet which tells us: "The dead cannot 
 praise Thee, O Lord; neither all they that go 
 down into the grave (doubtless of sin). But 
 we," says he, "who live (not forsooth to sin nor 
 to this world but to God) will bless the Lord, 
 from this time forth for evermore : for in death 
 
 no man remembereth God : but in the grave 
 (of sin) who will confess to the Lord? " 9 i.e., 
 no one will. For no man even though he were 
 to call himself a Christian a thousand times 
 over, or a monk, confesses God when he is 
 sinning: no man who allows those things 
 which the Lord hates, remembereth God, nor 
 calls himself with any truth the servant of Him, 
 whose commands he scorns with obstinate 
 rashness : in which death the blessed Apostle 
 declares that the widow is involved, who gives 
 herself to pleasure, saying "a widow who giv- 
 eth herself to pleasure is dead while she liv- 
 eth. " 10 There are then many who while still 
 living in this body are dead, and lying in the 
 grave cannot praise God; and on the contrary 
 there are many who though they are dead in 
 the body yet bless God in the spirit, and praise 
 Him, according to this : " O ye spirits and souls 
 of the righteous, bless ye the Lord: " n and 
 "every spirit shall praise the Lord. " 12 And in 
 the Apocalypse the souls of them that are 
 slain are not only said to praise God but to 
 address Him also. 13 In the gospel too the 
 Lord says with still greater clearness to the 
 Sadducees: "Have ye not read that which 
 was spoken by God, when He said to you : I 
 am the God of Abraham, and the God of 
 Isaac and the God of Jacob. He is not the 
 God of the dead but of the living: for all do 
 live unto Him. " 14 Of whom also the Apostle 
 says: "wherefore God is not ashamed to be 
 called their God : for He hath prepared for 
 them a city." 15 For that they are not idle 
 after the separation from this body, and are 
 not incapable of feeling, the parable in the 
 gospel shows, which tells us of the beggar 
 Lazarus and Dives clothed in purple, one 
 of whom obtained a position of bliss, i.e., 
 Abraham's bosom, the other is consumed 
 with the dreadful heat of eternal fire. 16 But if 
 you care too to understand the words spoken 
 to the thief "To-day thou shalt be with Me 
 in Paradise," " what do they clearly sIioav but 
 that not only does their former intelligence 
 1 continue with the souls, but also that in their 
 I changed condition they partake of some 
 ! state which corresponds to their actions and 
 deserts ? For the Lord would certainly never 
 have promised him this, if He had known 
 that his soul after being separated from the 
 flesh would either have been deprived of per- 
 ception or have been resolved into nothing. 
 For it was not his flesh but his soul which was 
 to enter Paradise with Christ. At least we 
 
 1 Is. lx. 17-20. 
 
 2 Cf. Rom. xiv. 17. 
 
 3 S. John xvi. 20. 
 * S. Luke vi. 25. 
 
 5 S. Luke xix. 17, 19. 
 
 6 S. Matt. xix. 2S. 
 
 7 1 Cor. xv. 28 
 
 8 S. John xii. 26. 
 
 9 Ps. cxiii. 17, 18 ; vi. 6. 
 10 1 Tim. v. 6. 
 " Dan. iii. S6 (LXX). 
 
 12 Ps. cl. 6. 
 
 13 Cf. Rev. vi. 9, 10. 
 
 ** S. Matt. xxii. 31, 32. 
 
 " Heb. xi. 16. 
 
 16 Cf. S. Luke xvi. 19 sq. 
 
 17 S. Luke xxiii. 43. 
 
;o2 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 must avoid, and shun with the utmost horror, 
 that wicked punctuation of the heretics, who, 
 as they do not believe that Christ could be 
 found in Paradise on the same day on which 
 He descended into hell, thus punctuate 
 "Verily, I say unto you to-day," and making 
 a stop apply "thou shall be with Me in Para- 
 dise, ' ' in such a way that they imagine that 
 this promise was not fulfilled at once after he 
 departed from this life, but that it will be 
 fulfilled after the resurrection, 1 as they do not 
 understand what before the time of His resur- 
 rection He declared to the Jews, who fancied 
 that He was hampered by human difficulties 
 and weakness of the flesh as they were : " No 
 man hath ascended into heaven, but He who 
 came down from heaven, even the Son of man 
 who is in heaven:" 2 by which Pie clearly 
 shows that the souls of the departed are not 
 only not deprived of their reason, but that 
 they are not even without such feelings as 
 hope and sorrow, joy and fear, and that they 
 already are beginning to taste beforehand 
 something of what is reserved for them at the 
 last judgment, and that they are not as some 
 unbelievers hold resolved into nothing after 
 their departure from this life: 3 but that they 
 live a more real life, and are still more earnest 
 in waiting on the praises of God. And in- 
 deed to put aside for a little Scripture proofs, 
 and to discuss, as far as our ability permits 
 us, a little about the nature of the soul itself, 
 is it not beyond the bounds of I will not say 
 the folly, but the madness of all stupidity, 
 even to have the slightest suspicion that the 
 nobler part of man, in which as the blessed 
 Apostle shows, the image and likeness of God 
 consists, 4 will, when the burden of the body 
 with which it is oppressed in this world is laid 
 aside, become insensible, when, as it contains 
 in itself all the power of reason, it makes the 
 dumb and senseless material flesh sensible, by 
 participation with it: especially when it fol- 
 lows, and the order of reason itself demands 
 that when the mind has put off the grossness of 
 the flesh with which it is now weighed down, 
 it will restore its intellectual powers better 
 than ever, and receive them in a purer and finer 
 condition than it lost them. But so far did 
 the blessed Apostle recognize that what we 
 
 1 The punctuation which Cassian here mentions only to reject, 
 and which is rightly characterized by Alford as " worse than silly," 
 is also mentioned by Theophylact. Com. in loc. 
 
 - S. John hi. 13. 
 
 3 Augustine (De Haeres. c. lix.) speaks of " Seleuciani " or "Her- 
 miani " as denying a visible Paradise, and a future resurrection ; 
 and again in c. lxxxiii. he speaks of some Arabian heretics, as teach- 
 ing that the soul died and was dissolved (dissolvi) with the body, 
 and that it would at the end of the world be revived and rise again. 
 These were the heretics of whom Eusebius speaks in his Eccl. 
 History Book VI. c. xxxvii., where he tells us that they were suc- 
 cessfully refuted by Origen. It is- probably to this last error that 
 Cassian is here making allusion. 
 
 4 Cf. 1 Cor. xi. 7; Col. iii. 10. 
 
 say is true, that he actually wished to depart 
 from this flesh ; that by separation from it, he 
 might be able to be joined more earnestly to 
 the Lord; saying: "I desire to be dissolved 
 and to be with Christ, which is far better, for 
 while we are in the body we are absent from 
 the Lord: " and therefore "we are bold and 
 have our desire always to be absent from the 
 body, and present with the Lord. Wherefore 
 also we strive, whether absent or present, to be 
 pleasing to Him; " 5 and he declares indeed 
 that the continuance of the soul which is in 
 the flesh is distance from the Lord, and ab- 
 sence from Christ, and trusts with entire faith 
 that its separation and departure from this 
 flesh involves presence with Christ. And 
 again still more clearly the same Apostle 
 speaks of this state of the souls as one that is 
 very full of life : " But ye are come to Mount 
 Sion, and the city of the living God, the 
 heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable 
 company of angels, and the church of the 
 first born, who are written in heaven, and the 
 spirits of just men made perfect. " 6 Of which 
 spirits he speaks in another passage, "Further- 
 more we have had instructors of our flesh, and 
 we reverenced them : shall we not much more 
 be subject to the Father of spirits and live ? " 7 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 How we must meditate on God. 
 
 But the contemplation of God is gained in 
 a variety of ways. For we not only discover 
 God by admiring His incomprehensible es- 
 sence, a thing which still lies hid in the hope 
 of the promise, but we see Him through the 
 greatness of His creation, and the considera- 
 tion of His justice, and the aid of His daily 
 providence : when with pure minds we con- 
 template what He has done with His saints 
 in every generation, when with trembling 
 heart we admire His power with which He 
 governs, directs, and rules all things, or the 
 vastness of His knowledge, and that eye of 
 His from which no secrets of the heart can 
 lie hid, when we consider the sand of the sea, 
 and the number of the waves measured by 
 Him and known to Him, when in our wonder 
 we think that the drops of rain, the days and 
 hours of the ages, and all things past and 
 future are present to His knowledge; when 
 we gaze in unbounded admiration on that 
 ineffable mercy of His, which with unwearied 
 patience endures countless sins which are 
 
 5 Phil. i. 23 ; 2 Cor. 
 c Heb. xii. 22, 73. 
 7 Ibid., ver. 9. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES. 
 
 303 
 
 every moment being committed under His 
 very eyes, or the call with which from no 
 antecedent merits of ours, but by the free 
 grace of His pity He receives us; or again 
 die numberless opportunities of salvation 
 which He grants to those whom He is going 
 to adopt — that He made us be born in such a 
 way as that from our very cradles His grace 
 and the knowledge of His law might be given 
 to us, that He Himself, overcoming our en- 
 emy in us simply for the pleasure of His 
 good will, rewards us with eternal bliss and 
 everlasting rewards, when lastly He undertook 
 the dispensation of His Incarnation for our 
 salvation, and extended the marvels of His 
 sacraments 1 to all nations. But there are 
 numberless other considerations of this sort, 
 which arise in our minds according to the 
 character of our life and the purity of our 
 heart, by which God is either seen by pure 
 eyes or embraced: which considerations cer- 
 tainly no one will preserve lastingly, if any- 
 thing of carnal affections still survives in him, 
 because "thou canst not," saith the Lord, 
 "see My face: for no man shall see Me and 
 live;" 2 viz., to this world and to earthly 
 affections. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A question on the changing character of the thoughts. 
 
 Germanus. How is it then, that even 
 against our will, aye and without our know- 
 ledge idle thoughts steal upon us so subtilely 
 and secretly that it is fearfully hard, not 
 merely to drive them away, but even to grasp 
 and seize them? Can then a mind sometimes 
 be found free from them, and never attacked 
 by illusions of this kind? 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The answer what the mind can and what it cannot do with 
 regard to the state of its thoughts. 
 
 Moses. It is impossible for the mind not 
 to be approached by thoughts, but it is in the 
 power of every earnest man either to admit 
 them or to reject them. As then their rising 
 up does not entirely depend on ourselves, so 
 the rejection or admission of them lies in our 
 own power. But because we said that it is 
 impossible for the mind not to be approached 
 by thoughts, you must not lay everything to 
 the charge of the assault, or to those spirits 
 
 1 Mysteriorum. 
 
 2 Exod. xxxiii. 20. 
 
 who strive to instil them into us, else there 
 would not remain any free will in man, nor 
 would efforts for our improvement be in our 
 power: but it is, I say, to a great extent in 
 our power to improve the character of our 
 thoughts and to let either holy and spiritual 
 thoughts or earthly ones grow up in our 
 hearts. For for this purpose frequent read- 
 ing and continual meditation on the Scriptures 
 is employed that from thence an opportunity 
 for spiritual recollection may be given to us, 
 therefore the frequent singing of Psalms is 
 used, that thence constant feelings of com- 
 punction may be provided, and earnest vigils 
 and fasts and prayers, that the mind may 
 be brought low and not mind earthly things, 
 but contemplate things celestial, for if these 
 things are dropped and carelessness creeps on 
 us, the mind being hardened with the foulness 
 of sin is sure to incline in a carnal direction 
 and fall away. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Comparison of a soul and a millstone. 
 
 And this movement of the heart is not un- 
 suitably illustrated by the comparison of a mill 
 wheel, which the headlong rush of water whirls 
 round, with revolving impetus, and which can 
 never stop its work so long as it is driven 
 round by the action of the water: but it is in 
 the power of the man who directs it, to de- 
 cide whether he will have wheat or barley or 
 darnel ground by it. That certainly must be 
 crushed by it which is put into it by the man 
 who has charge of that business. So then 
 the mind also through the trials of the present 
 life is driven about by the torrents of tempta- 
 tions pouring in upon it from all sides, and 
 cannot be free from the flow of thoughts : 
 but the character of the thoughts which it 
 should either throw off or admit for itself, it 
 will provide by the efforts of its own earnest- 
 ness and diligence: for if, as we said, we 
 constantly recur to meditation on the Holy 
 Scriptures and raise our memory towards the 
 recollection of spiritual things and the desire 
 of perfection and the hope of future bliss, 
 spiritual thoughts are sure to rise from this, 
 and cause the mind to dwell on those things 
 on which we have been meditating. But if 
 we are overcome by sloth or carelessness and 
 spend our time in idle gossip, or are entan- 
 gled in the cares of this world and unnecessary 
 anxieties, the result will be that a sort of spe- 
 cies of tares will spring up, and afford an in- 
 jurious occupation for our hearts, and as our 
 
3°4 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 Lord and Saviour says, wherever the treasure 
 of our works or purpose may be, there also our 
 heart is sure to continue. 1 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Of the three origins of our thoughts. 
 
 Above all we ought at least to know that 
 there are three origins of our thoughts, i.e., 
 from God, from the devil, and from ourselves. 
 They come from God when He vouchsafes 
 to visit us with the illumination of the Holy 
 Ghost, lifting us up to a higher state of pro- 
 gress, and where we have made but little pro- 
 gress, or through acting slothfully have been 
 overcome, He chastens us with most salutary 
 compunction, or when He discloses to us 
 heavenly mysteries, or turns our purpose and 
 will to better actions, as in the case where 
 the king Ahasuerus, being chastened by the 
 Lord, was prompted to ask for the books of 
 the annals, by which he was reminded of the 
 good deeds of Mordecai, and promoted him 
 to a position of the highest honour and at 
 once recalled his most cruel sentence con- 
 cerning the slaughter of the Jews. 2 Or when 
 the prophet says: " I will hearken what the 
 Lord God will say in me. " 3 Another too tells 
 us "And an angel spoke, and said in me, " 4 or 
 when the Son of God promised that He would 
 come with His Father, and make His abode 
 in us, 5 and "It is not ye that speak, but the 
 Spirit of your Father which speaketh in you. ' ' 6 
 And the chosen vessel: " Ye seek a proof of 
 Christ that speaketh in me." 7 But a whole 
 range of thoughts springs from the devil, 
 when he endeavours to destroy us either by the 
 pleasures of sin or by secret attacks, in his 
 crafty wiles deceitfully showing us evil as 
 good, and transforming himself into an angel 
 of light to us : 8 as when the evangelist tells 
 us: "And when supper was ended, when 
 the devil had already put it into the heart of 
 Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray " 9 the 
 Lord : and again also " after the sop, " he says, 
 " Satan entered into him." 10 Peter also says 
 to Ananias: " Why hath Satan tempted thine 
 heart, to lie to the Holy Ghost? " u And that 
 which we read in the gospel much earlier as 
 predicted by Ecclesiastes : " If the spirit of 
 the ruler rise up against thee, leave not thy 
 place." la That too which is said to God 
 
 1 Cf. S. Matt. vi. 21. 
 
 2 Cf. Esth. vi. i sq. 
 
 3 Ps. lxxxiv. (lxxxv.) 9. 
 
 4 Zech. i. 14. 
 
 E Cf. S. John xiv. 23. 
 6 S. Matt. x. 20. 
 
 7 2 Cor. xiii. 3. 
 
 8 Cf. 2 Cor. xi. 4. 
 
 9 S. John xiii. 2. 
 
 10 Ibid., ver. 27. 
 
 11 Acts v. 3. 
 u Eccl. x. 4. 
 
 against Ahab in the third book of Kings, in 
 the character of an unclean spirit: "I will go 
 forth and will be a lying spirit in the mouth 
 of all his prophets." 13 But they arise from 
 ourselves, when in the course of nature we 
 recollect what we are doing or have done or 
 have heard. Of which the blessed David 
 speaks : " I thought upon the ancient days, and 
 had in mind the years from of old, and I medi- 
 tated, by night I exercised myself with my 
 heart, and searched out my spirit." 14 And 
 again: '"the Lord knoweth the thoughts of 
 man, that they are vain : " 15 and " the thoughts 
 of the righteous are judgments." 15 In the 
 gospel too the Lord says to the Pharisees: 
 " why do ye think evil in your hearts ? " 17 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 About discerning the thoughts, with an illustration from a 
 good money-changer. 
 
 We ought then carefully to notice this 
 threefold order, and with a wise discretion to 
 analyse the thoughts which arise in our 
 hearts, tracking out their origin and cause 
 and author in the first instance, that we may 
 be able to consider how we ought to yield 
 ourselves to them in accordance with the 
 desert of those who suggest them, so that we 
 may, as the Lord's command bids ixsj become 
 good money-changers, 18 whose highest skill and 
 whose training is to test what is perfectly pure 
 gold and what is commonly termed ttsfet/, 19 or 
 what is not sufficiently purified' inThe 1 fire ; and 
 also with unerring skill not to'be taken in by 
 a common brass denarius, if by belng'coloured 
 with bright gold it is made like !: s6m& , coin of 
 great value; and not only shrewdly t6 recog- 
 nize coins stamped with the heaHs of -Usurpers, 
 but with a still shrewder skill to detect those 
 which have the image of the right king, but 
 are not properly made, and lastjy to be care- 
 ful by the test of the balance to 'see that they 
 are not under proper weight. All of which 
 
 *-r*- — : — 
 
 13 1 Kings xxii. 22. 
 
 14 Ps. lxxvi. (ixxvii.) 6, 7. Scobcbam (which Petschepia; edits 
 from the MSS.) = scofebam, which is found in 'the GSnfcan Psalter 
 as in the old Latin in this passage. It is merely a Latinized form 
 of <7K07ret»'. 
 
 15 Ps. xciii. (xciv.) 11. 
 
 16 Prov. xii. 5. 
 
 « S. Matt. ix. 4. 
 
 18 Ut efficiamur secundum fircecefitum Domini f>rol<aHles tra- 
 pezitce. The saying to which Cassian here alludes, -yu;« jCc -pa->.£ nai 
 SoKijuoi, is not found anywhere in the Gospels, Dut"** is' the most 
 commonly quoted of all Apocryphal sayings, arid Seeius to be 
 genuine." Westcott, Introd. to the Gospels, p. 454. It is quoted 
 among others by Origen in Joann. xix., and Jerome Kp. 152. See 
 these"and other reff. in Anger's Synopsis, p. 274: and cf. the note 
 of Gazsus here. 
 
 10 Obrizum. The word occurs in the Vulgate five tiwee- For " pure 
 gold." .See 2 Chr. iii. i : Job xxviii. ic;: xxxi. 24: (sa. xiii. 12; 
 Dan. x. 5; and is akin to the Greek oSpiclov. Cf. Pliny Nat. Hist. 
 xxxiii. c. 3, and Jerome De Nom. Hcbr. s. v. Ophaz.i 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES. 
 
 305 
 
 things the gospel saying, which uses this 
 figure, shows us that we ought also to observe 
 spiritually; first that whatever has found an 
 entrance into our hearts, and whatever doc- 
 trine has been received by us, should be most 
 carefully examined to see whether it has been 
 purified by the divine and heavenly fire of the 
 Holy Ghost, or whether it belongs to Jewish 
 superstition, or whether it comes from the 
 pride of a worldly philosophy and only exter- 
 nally makes a show of religion. And this we 
 can do, if we carry out the Apostle's advice, 
 " Believe not every spirit, but prove the spirits 
 whether they are of God. " a But by this kind 
 those men also are deceived, who after having 
 been professed as monks are enticed by the 
 grace of style, and certain doctrines of phi- 
 losophers, which at the first blush, owing to 
 some pious meanings not out of harmony with 
 religion, deceive as with the glitter of gold 
 their hearers, whom they have superficially 
 attracted, but render them poor and miserable 
 for ever, like men deceived by false money 
 made of copper : either bringing them back 
 to the bustle of this world, or enticing them 
 into the errors of heretics, and bombastic con- 
 ceits : a thing which we read of as happening 
 to Achan in the book of Joshua the son of 
 Nun, 2 when he coveted a golden weight from 
 the camp of the Philistines, and stole it, and 
 was smitten with a curse and condemned to 
 eternal death. In the second place we should 
 be careful to see that no wrong interpretation 
 fixed on to the pure gold of Scripture deceives 
 us as to the value of the metal : by which means 
 the devil in his craft tried to impose upon our 
 Lord and Saviour as if He was a mere man, 
 when by his malevolent interpretation he per- 
 verted what ought to be understood generally 
 of all good men, and tried to fasten it spe- 
 cially on to Him, who had no need of the care 
 of the angels: saying, "For He shall give 
 His angels charge concerning Thee, to keep 
 Thee in all Thy ways: and in their hands they 
 shall bear Thee up, lest at any time Thou 
 dash Thy foot against a stone," 3 by a skilful 
 assumption on his part giving a turn to the 
 precious sayings of Scripture and twisting 
 them into a dangerous sense, the very opposite 
 of their true meaning, so as to offer to us the 
 image and face of an usurper under cover of 
 the gold colour which may deceive us. Or 
 whether he tries to cheat us with counterfeits, 
 for instance by urging that some work of piety 
 should be taken up which as it does come 
 from the true minds of the fathers, leads under 
 the form of virtue to vice ; and, deceiving us 
 
 1 1 John iv. 1. 
 
 2 Cf. Josh. vii. 
 
 3 S. Matt. iv. 6; Ps. xc. 
 
 either by immoderate or impossible fasts, or 
 by too long vigils, or inordinate prayers, or 
 unsuitable reading, brings us to a bad end. 
 Or, when he persuades us to give ourselves up 
 to mixing in the affairs of others, and to pious 
 visits, by which he may drive us away from 
 the spiritual cloisters of the monastery, and 
 the secrecy of its friendly peaceful ness, and 
 suggests that we take on our shoulders the 
 anxieties and cares of religious women who 
 are in want, that when a monk is inextricably 
 entangled in snares of this sort he may dis- 
 tract him with most injurious occupations and 
 cares. Or else when he incites a man to desire 
 the holy office of the clergy under the pretext 
 of edifying many people, and the love of 
 spiritual gain, by which to draw us away from 
 the humility and strictness of our life. All 
 of which things, although they are opposed 
 to our salvation and to our profession, yet 
 when covered with a sort of veil of compassion 
 and religion, easily deceive those who are 
 lacking in skill and care. For they imitate 
 the coins of the true king, because they seem 
 at first full of piety, but are not stamped by 
 those who have the right to coin, i.e., the ap- 
 proved Catholic fathers, nor do they proceed 
 from the head public office for receiving 
 them, but are made by stealth and by the 
 fraud of the devil, and palmed off upon the 
 unskilful and ignorant not without serious 
 harm. And even although they seem to be 
 useful and needful at first, yet if afterwards 
 they begin to interfere with the soundness of 
 our profession, and as it were to weaken in 
 some sense the whole body of our purpose, it 
 is well that they should be cut off and cast 
 away from us like a member which may be 
 necessary, but yet offends us and which seems 
 to perform the office of the right hand or 
 foot. For it is better, without one member 
 of a command, i.e., its working or result, to 
 continue safe and sound in other parts, and 
 to enter as weak into the kingdom of heaven 
 rather than with the whole mass of commands 
 to fall into some error which by an evil cus- 
 tom separates us from our strict rule and the 
 system purposed and entered upon, and leads 
 to such loss, that it will never outweigh the 
 harm that will follow, but will cause all our 
 past fruits and the whole body of our work to 
 be burnt in hell fire. 4 Of which kind of illu- 
 sions it is well said in the Proverbs: " There 
 are ways which seem to be right to a man, but 
 their latter end will come into the depths of 
 hell," 5 and again " An evil man is harmful 
 when he attaches himself to a good man," 
 
 4 Cf. S. Matt, xviii. 8. 
 
 5 Prov xvi.25 (LXX.). 
 
 6 Prov. xi. 15 (LXX.). 
 
306 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 i. e. , the devil deceives when he is covered with 
 an appearance of sanctity: "but he hates the 
 sound of the watchman," 1 i.e., the power of 
 discretion which comes from the words and 
 warnings of the fathers. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Of the illusion of Abbot John. 
 
 In this manner we have heard that Abbot 
 John who lived at Lycon, 2 was recently de- 
 ceived. For when his body was exhausted 
 and failing as he had put off taking food 
 during a fast of two days, on the third 
 day while he was on his way to take some 
 refreshment the devil came in the shape of a 
 filthy Ethiopian, and falling at his feet, cried 
 " Pardon me because I appointed this labour 
 for you." And so that great man, who was 
 so perfect in the matter of discretion, under- 
 stood that under pretence of an abstinence 
 practised unsuitably, he was deceived by the 
 craft of the devil, and engaged in a fast of 
 such a character as to affect his worn out body 
 with a weariness that was unnecessary, in- 
 deed that was harmful to the spirit; as he was 
 deceived by a counterfeit coin, and, while he 
 paid respect to the image of the true king upon 
 it, was not sufficiently alive to the question 
 whether it was rightly cut and stamped. But 
 the last duty of this "good money-changer," 
 which, as we mentioned before, concerns the 
 examination of the weight, will be fulfilled, if 
 whenever our thoughts suggest that anything 
 is to be done, we scrupulously think it over, 
 and, laying it in the scales of our breast, weigh 
 it with the most exact balance, whether it be 
 full of good for all, or heavy with the fear of 
 God: or entire and sound in meaning; or 
 whether it be light with human display or 
 some conceit of novelty, or whether the pride 
 of foolish vain glory has not diminished or 
 lessened the weight of its merit. And so 
 straightway weighing them in the public ba- 
 lance, i.e., testing them by the acts and proofs 
 of the Apostles and Prophets let us hold them 
 as it were entire and perfect and of full weight, 
 or else with all care and diligence reject them 
 as imperfect and counterfeit, and of insuffi- 
 cient weight. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Of the fourfold method of discrimination. 
 
 This power of discriminating will then be 
 necessary for us in the fourfold manner of 
 
 which we have spoken; viz., first that the ma- 
 terial does not escape our notice whether it 
 be of true or of painted gold: secondly, that 
 those thoughts which falsely promise works 
 of religion should be rejected by us as forged 
 and counterfeit coins, as they are those which 
 are not rightly stamped, and which bear an 
 untrue image of the king ; and that we may 
 be able in the same way to detect those which 
 in the case of the precious gold of Scripture, 
 by means of a false and heretical meaning, 
 show the image not of the true king but of 
 an usurper; and that we refuse those whose 
 weight and value the rust of vanity has depreci- 
 ated and not allowed to pass in the scales of 
 the fathers, as coins that are too light, and are 
 false and weigh too little; so that we may not 
 incur that which we are warned by the Lord's 
 command to avoid with all our power, and 
 lose the value and reward of all our labour. 
 " Lay not up for yourselves treasures on the 
 earth, where rust and moth corrupt and where 
 thieves break through and steal." 3 For 
 whenever we do anything with a view to 
 human glory we know that we are, as the 
 Lord says, laying up for ourselves treasure on 
 earth, and that consequently being as it were 
 hidden in the ground and buried in the earth 
 it must be destroyed by sundry demons or 
 consumed by the biting rust of vain glory, or 
 devoured by the moths of pride so as to con- 
 tribute nothing to the use and profits of the 
 man who has hidden it. We should then 
 constantly search all the inner chambers of 
 our hearts, and trace out the footsteps of 
 whatever enters into them with the closest in- 
 vestigation lest haply some beast, if I may 
 say so, relating to the understanding, either 
 lion or dragon, passing through has furtively 
 left the dangerous marks of his track, which 
 will show to others the way of access into the 
 secret recesses of the heart, owing to a care- 
 lessness about our thoughts. And so daily and 
 hourly turning up the ground of our heart with 
 the gospel plough, i.e., the constant recollec- 
 tion of the Lord's cross, we shall manage to 
 stamp out or extirpate from our hearts the lairs 
 of noxious beasts and the lurking places of 
 poisonous serpents. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Of the discourse of the teacher in regard to the merits of his 
 hearers. 
 
 At this the old man seeing that we were 
 astonished, and inflamed at the words of his 
 discourse with an insatiable desire, stopped 
 
 1 Prov. xi. 15 (LXX.). 
 
 V On this John of Lycon or Lycopolis see the note on Inst. IV. 
 
 3 S. Matt. vi. 19. 
 
SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES. 
 
 307 
 
 his speech for a little in consequence of our 
 admiration and earnestness, and presently 
 added: Since your zeal, my sons, has led 
 to so long a discussion, and a sort of fire 
 supplies keener zest to our conference in 
 proportion to your earnestness, as from this 
 very thing I can clearly see that you are 
 truly thirsting after teaching about perfection, 
 I want still to say something to you on the 
 excellence of discrimination and grace which 
 rules and holds the field among all virtues, 
 and not merely to prove its value and use- 
 fulness by daily instances of it, but also 
 from former deliberations and opinions of the 
 fathers. For I remember that frequently 
 when men were asking me with sighs and 
 tears for a discourse of this kind, and I my- 
 self was anxious to give them some teaching 
 I could not possibly manage it, and not merely 
 my thoughts but even my very power of speech 
 failed me so that I could not find how to send 
 them away with even some slight consolation. 
 And by these signs we clearly see that the 
 grace of the Lord inspires the speakers with 
 words according to the deserts and zeal of the 
 hearers. And because the very short night 
 which is before us does not allow me to finish 
 the discourse, let us the rather give it up to 
 bodily rest, in which the whole of it will have 
 to be spent, if a reasonable portion is refused, 
 and let us reserve the complete scheme of the 
 discourse for unbroken consideration on a 
 future day or night. For it is right for the 
 best counsellors on discretion to show the 
 diligence of their minds in the first place in 
 this, and to prove whether they are or can be 
 possessors of it by this evidence and patience, 
 so that in treating of that virtue which is the 
 mother of moderation they may by no means 
 fall into the vice which is opposite to it; viz., 
 
 that of undue length, by their actions and 
 deeds destroying the force of the system and 
 nature which they recommend in word. In 
 regard then to this most excellent discretion, 
 on which we still propose to inquire, so far 
 as the Lord gives us power, it may in the first 
 instance be a good thing, when we are dis- 
 puting about its excellence and the modera- 
 tion which we know exists in it as the first of 
 virtues, not to allow ourselves to exceed the 
 due limit of the discussion and of our time. 
 
 And so with this the blessed Moses put a 
 stop to our talk, and urged us, eager though 
 we were and hanging on his lips, to go off to 
 bed for a little, advising us to lie down on the 
 same mats on which we were sitting, and to 
 put our bundles x under our heads instead of 
 pillows, as these being tied evenly to thicker 
 leaves of papyrus collected in long and slen- 
 der bundles, six feet apart, at one time pro- 
 vide the brethren when sitting at service with 
 a very low seat instead of a footstool, at 
 another time being put under their necks 
 when they go to bed furnish a support for 
 their heads, that is not too hard, but comfort- 
 able and just right. For which uses of the 
 monks these things are considered especially 
 fit and suitable not only because they are 
 somewhat soft, and prepared at little cost of 
 money and labour, as the papyrus grows 
 everywhere along the banks of the Nile, but 
 also because they are of a convenient stuff 
 and light enough to be removed or fetched as 
 need may require. And so at last at the 
 bidding of the old man we settled ourselves 
 down to sleep in deep stillness, both excited 
 with delight at the conference we had held, 
 and also buoyed up with hope of the prom- 
 ised discussion. 
 
 SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Abbot Moses' introduction on the grace of discretion. 
 
 And so when we had enjoyed our morning 
 sleep, when to our delight the dawn of light 
 again shone upon us, and we had begun to 
 ask once more for his promised talk, the 
 blessed Moses thus began : As I see you in- 
 flamed with such an eager desire, that I do not 
 believe that that very short interval of quiet 
 which I wanted to subtract from our spiritual 
 conference and devote to bodily rest, has been 
 of any use for the repose of your bodies, on 
 
 me too a greater anxiety presses when I take 
 note of your zeal. For I must give the greater 
 care and devotion in paying my debt, in pro- 
 portion as I see that you ask for it the more 
 earnestly, according to that saying : "When 
 thou sittest to eat with a ruler consider dili- 
 gently what is put before thee, and put forth 
 thine hand, knowing that thou oughtest to pre- 
 pare such things. " 2 Wherefore as we are going 
 
 1 Embrimium. The word is possibly of Egyptian origin. It occu-rs 
 also in Cyril in Vita S. Euthymii Abbati, n. 90, and in Apophthegm, 
 Patrum num. 7, and is possibly the same word as " Ebymium," which 
 occurs in the Rule of Pachomius, c. xiv. See Ducange, sua voce. 
 
 2 Prov. xxiii. 1, 2 (LXX.). 
 
3 o8 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 to speak of the excellent quality of discretion 
 and the virtue of it, on which subject our dis- 
 course of last night had entered at the ter- 
 mination of our discussion, we think it 
 desirable first to establish its excellence by 
 the opinions of the fathers, that when it has 
 been shown what our predecessors thought 
 and said about it, then we may bring forward 
 some ancient and modern shipwrecks and 
 mischances of various people, who were 
 destroyed and hopelessly ruined because 
 they paid but little attention to it, and then 
 as well as we can we must treat of its advan- 
 tages and uses: after a discussion of which we 
 shall know better how we ought to seek after 
 it and practise it, by the consideration of the 
 importance of its value and grace. ■ For it is 
 no ordinary virtue nor one which can be freely 
 gained by merely human efforts, unless they 
 are aided by the Divine blessing, for we read 
 that this is also reckoned among the noblest 
 gifts of the Spirit by the Apostle : " To one is 
 given by the Spirit the word of wisdom, to 
 another the word of knowledge by the same 
 Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, 
 to another the gift of healing by the same 
 Spirit," and shortly after, " to another the dis- 
 cerning of spirits." Then after the complete 
 catalogue of spiritual gifts he subjoins: "But 
 all these worketh one and the selfsame 
 Spirit, dividing to every man severally as He 
 will." 1 You see then that the gift of discre- 
 tion is no earthly thing and no slight matter, 
 but the greatest prize of divine grace. And 
 unless a monk has pursued it with all zeal, 
 and secured a power of discerning with unerr- 
 ing judgment the spirits that rise up in him, 
 he is sure to go wrong, as if in the darkness 
 of night and dense blackness, and not merely 
 to fall down dangerous pits and precipices, 
 but also to make frequent mistakes in matters 
 that are plain and straightforward. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 What discretion alone can give a monk ; and a discourse of the 
 blessed Antony on this subject. 
 
 And so I remember that while I was still 
 a boy, in the region of Thebaid, where the 
 blessed Antony lived, 2 the elders came to 
 him to inquire about perfection: and though 
 the conference lasted from evening till morn- 
 ing, the greatest part of the night was taken 
 up with this question. For it was discussed at 
 great length what virtue or observance could 
 preserve a monk always unharmed by the 
 snares and deceits of the devil, and carry him 
 
 1 i Cor. xii. 8-1 1. - Cf. the note on the Institutes, V. iv. 
 
 forward on a sure and right path, and with 
 firm step to the heights of perfection. And 
 when each one gave his opinion according 
 to the bent of his own mind, and some made 
 it consist in zeal in fasting and vigils, be- 
 cause a soul that has been brought low by 
 these, and so obtained purity of heart and 
 body will be the more easily united to God, 
 others in despising all things, as, if the mind 
 were utterly deprived of them, it would come 
 the more freely to God, as if henceforth there 
 were no snares to entangle it: others thought 
 that withdrawal from the world was the 
 thing needful, i.e., solitude and the secrecy 
 of the hermit's life ; living in which a man 
 may more readily commune with God, and 
 cling more especially to Him; others laid 
 down that the duties of charity, i.e., of kind- 
 ness should be practised, because the Lord in 
 the gospel promised more especially to give 
 the kingdom to these; when He said " Come 
 ye blessed of My Father, inherit the king- 
 dom prepared for you from the foundation of 
 the world. For I was an huhgred and ye 
 gave Me to eat, I was thirsty and ye gave Me 
 to drink, etc. : " 3 and when in this fashion they 
 declared that by means of different virtues a 
 more certain approach to God could be se- 
 cured, and the greater part of the night had 
 been spent in this discussion, then at last the 
 blessed Antony spoke and said: All these 
 things which you have mentioned are indeed 
 needful, and helpful to those who are thirsting 
 for God, and desirous to approach Him. But 
 countless accidents and the experience of 
 many people will not allow us to make the 
 most important of gifts consist in them. For 
 often when men are most strict in fasting or in 
 vigils, and nobly withdraw into solitude, and 
 aim at depriving themselves of all their goods 
 so absolutely that they do not suffer even a 
 day's allowance of food or a single penny to 
 remain to them, and when they fulfil all the 
 duties of kindness with the utmost devotion, 
 yet still we have seen them suddenly de- 
 ceived, so that they could not bring the work 
 they had entered upon to a suitable close, but 
 brought their exalted fervour and praise- 
 worthy manner of life to a terrible end. 
 Wherefore we shall be able clearly to recog- 
 nize what it is which mainly leads to God, if 
 we trace out with greater care the reason of 
 their downfall and deception. For when the 
 works of the above mentioned virtues were 
 abounding in them, discretion alone was 
 wanting, and allowed them not to continue 
 even to the end. Nor can any other reason 
 for their falling off be discovered except that 
 
 3 S. Matt. xxv. 36, 35. 
 
SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES. 
 
 309 
 
 as they were not sufficiently instructed by 
 their elders they could not obtain judgment 
 and discretion, which passing by excess on 
 either side, teaches a monk always to walk 
 along the royal road, and does not suffer him 
 to be puffed up on the right hand of virtue, i. e. , 
 from excess of zeal to transgress the bounds 
 of due moderation in foolish presumption, 
 nor allows him to be enamoured of slackness 
 and turn aside to the vices on the left hand, 
 i.e., under pretext of controlling the body, to 
 grow slack with the opposite spirit of luke- 
 warmness. For this is discretion, which is 
 termed in the gospel the "eye," "and light of 
 the body," according to the Saviour's saying: 
 "The light of thy body is thine eye: but if 
 thine eye be single, thy whole body \vill be 
 full of light, but if thine eye be evil, thy 
 whole body will be full of darkness:" 1 be- 
 cause as it discerns all the thoughts and ac- 
 tions of men, it sees and overlooks all things 
 which should be done. But if in any man 
 this is "evil," i.e., not fortified by sound 
 judgment and knowledge, or deceived by 
 some error and presumption, it will make our 
 whole body "full of darkness," i.e., it will 
 darken all our mental vision and our actions, 
 as they will be involved in the darkness of 
 vices and the gloom of disturbances. For, 
 says He, "if the light which is in thee be 
 darkness, how great will that darkness be ! " ~ 
 For no one can doubt that when the judgment 
 of our heart goes wrong, and is overwhelmed 
 by the night of ignorance, our thoughts and 
 deeds, which are the result of deliberation 
 and discretion, must be involved in the dark- 
 ness of still greater sins. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Of the error of Saul and of Ahab, by which they were deceived 
 through lack of discretion. 
 
 Lastly, the man who in th;; judgment of 
 God was the first to be worthy of the kingdom 
 of His people Israel, because he was lacking in 
 this "eye " of discretion, was, as if his whole 
 body were full of darkness, actually cast 
 down from the kingdom while, being deceived 
 by the darkness of this " light, " and in error, 
 he imagined that his own offerings were more 
 acceptable to God than obedience to the 
 command of Samuel, and met with an occa- 
 sion of falling in that very matter in which 
 he had hoped to propitiate the Divine Ma- 
 jesty. 3 And ignorance, I say, of this discretion 
 led Ahab the king of Israel after a triumph and 
 
 splendid victory which had been granted to 
 him by the favour of God to fancy that mercy 
 on his part was better than the stern execution 
 of the divine command, and, as it seemed to 
 him, a cruel rule : and moved by this consid- 
 eration, while he desired to temper a bloody 
 victory with mercy, he was on account of his 
 indiscriminating clemency rendered full of 
 darkness in his whole body, and condemned 
 irreversibly to death. 4 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 What is said of the value of discretion in Holy Scripture. 
 
 Such is discretion, which is not only the 
 ' ' light of the body, ' ' but also called the sun by 
 the Apostle, as it said "Let not the sun go 
 down upon your wrath. " 5 It is also called 
 the guidance of our life: as it said "Those 
 who have no guidance, fall like leaves." 6 It 
 is most truly named counsel, without which 
 the authority of Scripture allows us to do 
 nothing, so that we are not even permitted to 
 take that spiritual "wine which maketh glad 
 the heart of man" 7 without its regulating con- 
 trol : as it is said "Do everything with counsel, 
 drink thy wine with counsel, " 8 and again ' ' like 
 a city that has its walls destroyed and is not 
 fenced in, so is a man who does anything with- 
 out counsel. ' ' 9 And how injurious the absence 
 of this is to a monk, the illustration and 
 figure in the passage quoted shows, by com- 
 paring it to a city that is destroyed and without 
 walls. Herein lies wisdom, herein lies in- 
 telligence and understanding without which 
 our inward house cannot be built, nor can 
 spiritual riches be gathered together, as it is 
 said: "A house is built with wisdom, and 
 again it is set up with intelligence. With un- 
 derstanding the storehouses are filled with 
 all precious riches and good things. " 10 This 
 I say is "solid food, " which can only be taken 
 by those who are full grown and strong, as it 
 is said : ' ' But solid food is for full grown men, 
 who by reason of use have their senses exer- 
 cised to discern good and evil." 11 And it 
 is shown to be useful and necessary for us, 
 only in so far as it is in accordance with the 
 word of God and its powers, as is said "For 
 the word of God is quick and powerful, and 
 sharper than any two-edged sword, and reach- 
 ing even to the dividing asunder of soul and 
 spirit, of both joints and marrow, and a dis- 
 
 1 S. Matt. vi. 
 
 2 S. Matt. vi. 22, 23. 3 Cf. 1 Sam. xv. 
 
 4 Cf. 1 Kings xx. 
 
 5 Eph. iv. 26. 
 
 6 Prov. xi. i 4 (LXX.). 
 1 Ps. ciii. (civ.) 15. 
 
 8 Prov. xxxi. 3 (LXX.). 
 
 9 Prov. xxv. 2S (LXX.). 
 
 10 Prov. xxiv. 3, 4 (LXX.). 
 
 11 Heb. v. 14. 
 
3io 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 cerner of the thoughts and intents of the 
 heart: " * and by this it is clearly shown that 
 no virtue can possibly be perfectly acquired or 
 continue without the grace of discretion. And 
 so by the judgment of the blessed Antony as 
 well as of all others it has been laid down that 
 it is discretion which leads a fearless monk by 
 fixed stages to God, and preserves the virtues 
 mentioned above continually intact, by means 
 of which one may ascend with less weariness 
 to the extreme summit of perfection, and 
 without which even those who toil most will- 
 ingly cannot reach the heights of perfection. 
 For discretion is the mother of all virtues, as 
 well as their guardian and regulator. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Of the death of the old man Heron. 
 
 And to support this judgment delivered 
 of old by the blessed Antony and the other 
 fathers by a modern instance, as we promised 
 to do, remember what you lately saw happen 
 before your very eyes, I mean, how the old 
 man Heron, 2 only a very few days ago was 
 cast down by an illusion of the devil from 
 the heights to the depths, a man whom we 
 remember to have lived for fifty years in this 
 desert and to have preserved a strict conti- 
 nence with especial severity, and who aimed at 
 the secrecy of solitude with marvellous fer- 
 vour beyond all those who dwell here. By 
 what device then or by what method was he 
 deluded by the deceiver after so many labours, 
 and falling by a most grievous downfall struck 
 with profound grief all those who live in this 
 desert? Was it not because, having too little 
 of the virtue of discretion he preferred to 
 be guided by his own judgment rather than 
 to obey the counsels and conference of the 
 brethren and the regulations of the elders? 
 Since he ever practised incessant abstinence 
 and fasting with such severity, and persisted 
 in the secrecy of solitude and a monastic cell 
 so constantly that not even the observance of 
 the Easter festival could ever persuade him 
 to join in the feast with the brethren : when 
 in accordance with the annual observance, all 
 the brethren remained in the church and he 
 alone would not join them for fear lest he 
 might seem to relax in some degree from his 
 purpose by taking only a little pulse. And 
 deceived by this presumption he received with 
 the utmost reverence an angel of Satan as 
 an angel of light and with blind slavishness 
 
 1 Heb. iv. 12. 
 
 - Gazseus thinks that this is a different person from the man of 
 the same name mentioned by Palladius, Hist. Laus. c. xxxii. 
 
 obeyed his commands and cast himself down 
 a well, so deep that the eye could not pierce 
 its depths, nothing doubting of the promise of 
 the angel who had assured him that the merits 
 of his virtues and labours were such that he 
 could not possibly run any risk. And that he 
 might prove the truth of this most certainly 
 by experimenting on his own safety, in the 
 dead of night he was deluded enough to cast 
 himself into the above mentioned well, to 
 prove indeed the great merit of his virtue if 
 he should come out thence unhurt. And when 
 by great efforts on the part of the brethren he 
 had been got out already almost dead, on the 
 third day afterward he expired, and what was 
 still worse, persisted in his obstinate delusion 
 so that not even the experience of his death 
 could persuade him that he had been deceived 
 by the craft of devils. Wherefore in spite of 
 the merits of his great labours and the number 
 of years which he had spent in the desert 
 those who with compassion and the greatest 
 kindness pitied his end, could hardly obtain 
 from Abbot Paphnutius 3 that he should not be 
 reckoned among suicides, and be deemed un- 
 worthy of the memorial and oblation for those 
 at rest. 4 
 
 • CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Of the destruction of two brethren for lack of discretion. 
 
 What shall I say of those two brethren who 
 lived beyond that desert of the Thebaiid where 
 once the blessed Antony dwelt, and, not being 
 sufficiently influenced by careful discrimina- 
 tion, when they were going through the vast 
 and extended waste determined not to take 
 any food with them, except such as the Lord 
 Himself might provide for them. And when 
 as they wandered through the deserts and were 
 already fainting from hunger they were spied 
 at a distance by the Mazices 6 (a race which 
 is even more savage and ferocious than almost 
 all wild tribes, for they are not driven to shed 
 blood, as other tribes are, from desire of spoil 
 but from simple ferocity of mind), and when 
 these acting contrary to their natural ferocity, 
 met them with bread, one of the two as dis- 
 cretion came to his aid, received it with de- 
 light and thankfulness as if it were offered 
 to him by the Lord, thinking that the food 
 
 3 On Paphnutius see the note on III. i. 
 
 * Pausantium, i.e., those at rest. The word is used for the 
 departed in a similar way in the 6th Canon of the Council of Au- 
 relia {Orleans) a.d. 511. " Quando recitantur pausantium nomina." 
 And the phrase " Pausat in pace " is occasionally found in sepul- 
 chral inscriptions. Inscr. Boldetti Cimeter. p. 399; Inscr. Maff. 
 Gall. Antiq. p. 55. 
 
 5 Mazices : a people of Mauritania Csesariensis, who joined in 
 the revolt of Firmus, but submitted to Theodosius in 373. See 
 Ammianus Marcellinus XXIX. v. § 17. 
 
SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES. 
 
 3ii 
 
 had been divinely provided for him, and that 
 it was God's doing that those who always de- 
 lighted in bloodshed had offered the staff of 
 life to men who were already fainting and 
 dying; but the other refused the food because 
 it was offered to him by men and died of star- 
 vation. And though this sprang in the first 
 instance from a persuasion that was blame- 
 worthy yet one of them by the help of discre- 
 tion got the better of the idea which he had 
 rashly and carelessly conceived, but the other 
 persisting in his obstinate folly, and being 
 utterly lacking in discretion, brought upon 
 himself that death which the Lord would have 
 averted, as he would not believe that it was 
 owing to a Divine impulse that the fierce 
 barbarians forgot their natural ferocity and 
 offered them bread instead of a sword. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Of an illusion into which another fell for lack of discretion. 
 
 Why also should I speak of one (whose 
 name we had rather not mention as he is still 
 alive), who for a long while received a devil 
 in the brightness of an angelic form, and was 
 often deceived by countless revelations from 
 him and believed that he was a messenger of 
 righteousness: for when these were granted, 
 every night he provided a light in his cell 
 without the need of any lamp. At last he 
 was ordered by the devil to offer up to God 
 his own son who was living with him in the 
 monastery, in order that his merits might by 
 this sacrifice be made equal to those of the 
 patriarch Abraham. And he was so far se- 
 duced by his persuasion that he would really 
 have committed the murder unless his son 
 had seen him getting ready the knife and 
 sharpening it with unusual care, and looking 
 for the chains with which he meant to tie him 
 up for the sacrifice when he was going to offer 
 him up ; and had fled away in terror with a 
 presentiment of the coming crime. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Of the fall and deception of a monk of Mesopotamia. 
 
 It is a long business too to tell the story of 
 the deception of that monk of Mesopotamia, 
 who observed an abstinence that could be 
 imitated by but few in that country, which he 
 had practised for many years concealed in his 
 cell, and at last was so deceived by revela- 
 tions and dreams that came from the devil 
 that after so many labours and good deeds, in 
 
 which he had surpassed all those who dwelt 
 in the same parts, he actually relapsed mis- 
 erably into Judaism and circumcision of the 
 flesh. For when the devil by accustoming 
 him to visions through the wish to entice him 
 to believe a falsehood in the end, had like a 
 messenger of truth revealed to him for a long 
 while what was perfectly true, at length he 
 showed him Christian folk together with the 
 leaders of our religion and creed ; viz. Apostles 
 and Martyrs, in darkness and filth, and foul 
 and disfigured with all squalor, and on the 
 other hand the Jewish people with Moses, the 
 patriarchs and prophets, dancing with all joy 
 and shining with dazzling light; and so per- 
 suaded him that if he wanted to share their 
 reward and bliss, he must at once submit to 
 circumcision. And so none of these would 
 have been so miserably deceived, if they had 
 endeavoured tc obtain a power of discretion. 
 Thus the mischances and trials of many show 
 how dangerous it is to be without the grace 
 of discretion. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A question about the acquirement of true discretion. 
 
 To this Germanus : It has been fully and 
 completely shown both by recent instances 
 and by the decisions of the ancients how dis- 
 cretion is in some sense the fountain head and 
 the root of all virtues. We want then to 
 learn how it ought to be gained, or how we 
 can tell whether it is genuine and from God, 
 or whether it is spurious and from the devil : 
 so that (to use the figure of that gospel parable 
 which you discussed on a former occasion, in 
 which we are bidden to become good money 
 changers x ) we may be able to see the figure 
 of the true king stamped on the coin and to de- 
 tect what is not stamped on coin that is current, 
 and that, as you said in yesterday's talk using 
 an ordinary expression, we may reject it as 
 counterfeit, under the teaching of that skill 
 which you treated of with sufficient fulness and 
 detail, and showed ought to belong to the 
 man who is spiritually a good money changer 
 of the gospel. For of what good will it be to 
 have recognized the value of that virtue and 
 grace if we do not know how to seek for it 
 and to gain it? 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The answer how true discretion may be gained. 
 
 Then Moses : True discretion, said he, is 
 only secured by true humility. And of this 
 
 1 Cf. I. xx. 
 
12 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 is by the power of confession 
 so to speak, from his dark 
 
 humility the first proof is given by reserving 
 everything (not only what you do but also what 
 you think), for the scrutiny of the elders, so 
 as not to trust at all in your own judgment 
 but to acquiesce in their decisions in all 
 points, and to acknowledge what ought to be 
 considered good or bad by their traditions. 1 
 And this habit will not only teach a young 
 man to walk in the right path through the 
 true way of discretion, but will also keep him 
 unhurt by all the crafts and deceits of the 
 enemy. For a man cannot possibly be de- 
 ceived, who lives not by his own judgment but 
 according to the example of the elders, nor 
 will our crafty foe be able to abuse the igno- 
 rance of one who is not accustomed from 
 false modesty to conceal all the thoughts 
 which rise in his heart, but either checks 
 them or suffers them to remain, in accordance 
 with the ripened judgment of the elders. For 
 a wrong thought is enfeebled at the moment 
 that it is discovered: and even before the 
 sentence of discretion has been given, the 
 foul serpent 
 dragged out, 
 
 under-ground cavern, and in some sense shown 
 up and sent away in disgrace. For evil 
 thoughts will hold sway in us just so long as 
 they are hidden in the heart: and that you 
 may gather still more effectually the power of 
 this judgment I will tell you what Abbot 
 Serapion did, 2 and what he used often to tell 
 to the younger brethren for their edification. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 The words of Abbot Serapion on the decline of thoughts that 
 are exposed to others, and also on the danger of self-con- 
 fidence. 
 
 While, said he, I was still a lad, and stop- 
 ping with Abbot Theonas, 3 this habit was 
 forced upon me by the assaults of the enemy, 
 that after I had supped with the old man at 
 the ninth hour, I used every day secretly to 
 hide a biscuit in my dress, which I would eat 
 on the sly later on without his knowing it. 
 And though I was constantly guilty of the 
 theft with the consent of my will, and the want 
 of restraint that springs from desire that has 
 grown inveterate, yet when my unlawful de- 
 sire was gratified I would come to myself and 
 torment myself over the theft committed in a 
 way that overbalanced the pleasure I had en- 
 joyed in the eating. And when I was forced 
 not without grief of heatrt to fulfil day after 
 
 1 Cf. what is said on this subject in the Institutes, Book IV. c. ix. 
 
 2 Probably the author of Conference V., where see the note on 
 i. 
 
 3 See the note on Conf. xxi. i. 
 
 day this most heavy task required of me, so 
 to speak, by Pharaoh's taskmasters, instead 
 of bricks, and could not escape from this cruel 
 tyranny, and yet was ashamed to disclose the 
 secret theft to the old man, it chanced by the 
 will of God that I was delivered from the yoke 
 of this voluntary captivity, when certain 
 brethren had sought the old man's cell with 
 the object of being instructed by him. And 
 when after supper the spiritual conference had 
 begun to be held, and the old man in answer 
 to the questions which they had propounded 
 was speaking about the sin of gluttony and 
 the dominion of secret thoughts, and showing 
 their nature and the awful power which they 
 have so long as they are kept secret, I was 
 overcome by the power of the discourse and 
 was conscience stricken and terrified, as I 
 thought that these things were mentioned by 
 him because the Lord had revealed to the old 
 man my bosom secrets ; and first I was moved 
 to secret sighs, and then my heart's compunc- 
 tion increased and I openly burst into sobs 
 and tears, and produced from the folds of my 
 dress which shared my theft and received it, 
 the biscuit which I had carried off in my bad 
 habit to eat on the sly; and I laid it in the 
 midst and lying on the ground and begging 
 for forgiveness confessed how I used to eat 
 one every day in secret, and with copious 
 tears implored them to intreat the Lord to 
 free me from this dreadful slavery. Then 
 the old man : " Have faith, my child," said he, 
 "Without any words of mine, your confession 
 frees you from this slavery. For you have 
 today triumphed over your victorious adver- 
 sary, by laying him low by your confession in 
 a manner which more than makes up for the 
 way in which you were overthrown by him 
 through your former silence, as when, never 
 confuting him with your own answer or that 
 of another, you had allowed him to lord it 
 over you, according to that saying of Solo- 
 mon's : 'Because sentence is not speedily 
 pronounced against the evil, the heart of the 
 children of men is full within them to do 
 evil: ' 4 and therefore after this exposure of 
 him that evil spirit will no longer be able 
 to vex you, nor will that foul serpent hence- 
 forth make his lurking place in you, as he has 
 been dragged out into light from the dark- 
 ness by your life-giving confession." The old 
 man had not finished speaking when lo! a 
 burning lamp proceeding from the folds of 
 my dress filled, the cell with a sulphureous 
 smell so that the pungency of the odour scarcely 
 allowed us to stay there : and the old man 
 resuming; his admonition said Lo ! the Lord 
 
 « Eccl. viii. ii (LXX/ 
 
SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES. 
 
 313 
 
 has visibly confirmed to you the truth of 
 my words, so that you can see with your eyes 
 how he who was the author of His Passion 
 has been driven out from your heart by your 
 life-giving confession, and know that the 
 enemy who has been exposed will certainly 
 no longer find a home in you, as his expulsion 
 is made manifest. And so, as the old man 
 declared, said he, the sway of that diabolical 
 tyranny over me has been destroyed by the 
 power of this confession and stilled for ever, 
 so that the enemy has never even tried to 
 force upon me any more the recollection of 
 this desire, nor have I ever felt myself seized 
 with the passion of that furtive longing. And 
 this meaning we see is neatly expressed in 
 a figure in Ecclesiastes. "If" says he "a 
 serpent bite without hissing there is no suffi- 
 ciency for the charmer," 1 showing that the 
 bite of a serpent in silence is dangerous, i.e., 
 if a suggestion or thought springing from the 
 devil is not by means of confession shown to 
 some charmer, I mean some spiritually minded 
 person who knows how to heal the wound at 
 once by charms from the Scripture, and to 
 extract the deadly poison of the serpent from 
 the heart, it will be impossible to help the 
 sufferer who is already in danger and must 
 soon die. In this way therefore we shall 
 easily arrive at the knowledge of true dis- 
 cretion, so as by following the steps of the 
 Elders never to do anything novel nor to 
 decide anything by or on our own responsibil- 
 ity, but to walk in all things as we are taught 
 by their tradition and upright life. And the 
 man who is strengthened by this system will 
 not only arrive at the perfect method of dis- 
 cretion, but also will remain perfectly safe 
 from all the wiles of the enemy: for by no 
 other fault does the devil drag down a monk 
 so precipitately and lead him away to death, 
 as when he persuades him to despise the 
 counsel of the Elders and to rely on his own 
 opinion and judgment: for if all the arts and 
 contrivances discovered by man's ingenuity 
 and those which are only useful for the con- 
 veniences of this temporary life, though they 
 can be felt with the hand and seen with 
 the eye, can yet not be understood by anyone 
 without lessons from a teacher, how foolish 
 it is to fancy that there is no need of an in- 
 structor in this one alone which is invisible 
 and secret and can only be seen by the purest 
 heart, a mistake in which brings about no mere 
 temporary loss or one that can easily be re- 
 paired, but the destruction of the soul and 
 everlasting death : for it is concerned with a 
 daily and nightly conflict against no visible 
 
 1 Eccl. x. n (LXX.). 
 
 foes, but invisible and cruel ones, and a 
 spiritual combat not against one or two only, 
 but against countless hosts, failure in which is 
 the more dangerous to all, in proportion as 
 the foe is the fiercer and the attack the more 
 secret. And therefore we should always fol- 
 low the footsteps of the Elders with the utmost 
 care, and bring to them everything which 
 rises in our hearts, by removing the veil of 
 shame. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A confession of the modesty which made us ashamed to reveal 
 our thoughts to the elders. 
 
 Germanus: The ground of that hurtful 
 modesty, through which we endeavour to hide 
 bad thoughts, is especially owing to this 
 reason; viz., that we have heard of a superior 
 of the Elders in the region of Syria, as it was 
 believed, who, when one of the brethren had 
 laid bare his thoughts to him in a genuine 
 confession, was afterwards extremely indig- 
 nant and severely chid him for them. Whence 
 it results that while we press them upon our- 
 selves and are ashamed to make them known 
 to the Elders, we cannot obtain the remedies 
 that would heal them. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The answer concerning the trampling down of shame, and the 
 danger of one without contrition. 
 
 Moses: Just as all young men are not alike 
 in fervour of spirit nor equally instructed in 
 learning and good morals, so too we cannot find 
 that all old men are equally perfect and ex- 
 cellent. For the true riches of old men are 
 not to be measured by grey hairs but by their 
 diligence in youth and the rewards of their past 
 labours. " For, " says one, "the things that 
 thou hast not gathered in thy youth, how shalt 
 thou find them in thy old age ? " " For ven- 
 erable old age is not that of long time, nor 
 counted by the number of years : but the un- 
 derstanding of a man is grey hairs, and a 
 spotless life is old age." - And therefore we 
 are not to follow in the steps or embrace 
 the traditions and advice of every old man 
 whose head is covered with grey hairs, and 
 whose age is his sole claim to respect, but 
 only of those whom we find to have distin- 
 guished themselves in youth in an approved 
 and praiseworthy manner, and to have been 
 trained up no* on self-assurance but on the 
 traditions of the Elders. For there are some, 
 
 Ecclus. xxv. 5 ; Wisdom iv. 8, 9. 
 
3H 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 and unhappily they form the majority, who 
 pass their old age in a lukewarmness which 
 they contracted in youth, and in sloth, and 
 so obtain authority not from the ripeness of 
 their character but simply from the number 
 of their years. Against whom that reproof of 
 the Lord is specially aimed by the prophet: 
 " Strangers have devoured his strength and 
 he knew it not: yea, grey hairs also are 
 spread about upon him, and he is ignorant 
 of it." 1 These men, I say, are not pointed 
 out as examples to youth from the upright- 
 ness of their lives, nor from the strictness of 
 their profession, which would be worthy of 
 praise and imitation, but simply from the 
 number of their years; and so the subtle 
 enemy uses their grey hairs to deceive the 
 younger men, by a wrongful appeal to their 
 authority, and endeavours in his cunning 
 craftiness to upset and deceive by their ex- 
 ample those who might have been urged into 
 the way of perfection by their advice or that 
 of others ; and drags them down by means of 
 their teaching and practice either into a bane- 
 ful indifference, or into deadly despair. And 
 as I want to give you an instance of this, I 
 will tell you a fact which may supply us with 
 some wholesome teaching, without giving the 
 name of the actor, lest we might be guilty 
 of something of the same kind as the man 
 who published abroad the sins of the brother 
 which had been disclosed to him. When this 
 one, who was not the laziest of young men, 
 had gone to an old man, whom we know very 
 well, for the sake of the profit and health of 
 his soul, and had candidly confessed that he 
 was troubled by carnal appetites and the 
 spirit of fornication, fancying that he would 
 receive from the old man's words consolation 
 for his efforts, and a cure for the wounds 
 inflicted on him, the old man attacked him 
 with the bitterest reproaches, and ,called him 
 a miserable and disgraceful creature, and un- 
 worthy of the name of monk, while he could 
 be affected by a sin and lust of this character, 
 and instead of helping him so injured him by 
 his reproaches that he dismissed him from his 
 cell in a state of hopeless despair and deadly 
 despondency. And when he, oppressed with 
 such a sorrow, was plunged in deep thought, 
 no longer how to cure his passion, but how to 
 gratify his lust, the Abbot Apollos, 2 the most 
 skilful of the Elders, met him, and seeing by 
 his looks and gloominess his trouble and the 
 
 1 Hos. vii. 9. 
 
 2 Apollos or Apollonius was a most celebrated hermit of the 
 fourth century, who finally became the head of a monastery of five 
 hundred brethren in the Thebaid. Some accouVt of him is given by 
 Palladius (Hist. Laus. c. lii.) and Rufinus (Hist. Monach. c. vii.). 
 Cf. also Sozomen III. xiv.; and VI. xx., whence we learn that his 
 life was written by Timothy, Bishop of Alexandria. Cassian relates 
 another story of him in XXIV. ix. 
 
 violence of the assault which he was secretly 
 revolving in his heart, asked him the reason 
 of this upset; and when he could not possibly 
 answer the old man's gentle inquiry, the 
 latter perceived more and more clearly that 
 it was not without reason that he wanted to 
 hide in silence the cause of a gloom so deep 
 that he could not conceal it b} his looks, and 
 so began to ask him still more earnestly the 
 reasons for his hidden grief. And by this 
 he was forced to confess that he was on his 
 way to a village to take a wife, and leave the 
 monastery and return to the world, since, as 
 the old man had told him, he could not be a 
 monk, if he was unable to control the desires 
 of the flesh and to cure his passion. And 
 then the old man smoothed him down with 
 kindly consolation, and told him that he him- 
 self was daily tried by the same pricks of 
 desire and lust, and that therefore he ought 
 not to give way to despair, nor be surprised 
 at the violence of the attack of which he 
 would get the better not so much by zealous 
 efforts, as by the mercy and grace of the Lord ; 
 and he begged him to put off his intention 
 just for one day, and having implored him to 
 return to his cell, went as fast as he could 
 to the monastery of the above mentioned old 
 man — and when he had drawn near to him 
 he stretched forth his hands and prayed with 
 tears, and said " O Lord, who alone art the 
 righteous judge and unseen Physician of se- 
 cret strength and human weakness, turn the 
 assault from the young man upon the old 
 one, that he may learn to condescend to the 
 weakness of sufferers, and to sympathize even 
 in old age with the frailties of youth." And 
 when he had ended his prayer with tears, he 
 sees a filthy Ethiopian standing over against 
 his cell and aiming fiery darts at him, with 
 which he was straightway wounded, and came 
 out of his cell and ran about hither and thither 
 like a lunatic or a drunken man, and going in 
 and out could no longer restrain himself in 
 it, but began to hurry off in the same direc- 
 tion in which the young man had gone. And 
 when Abbot Apollos saw him like a madman 
 driven wild by the furies, he knew that the 
 fiery dart of the devil which he had seen, had 
 been fixed in his heart, and had by its 
 intolerable heat wrought in him this men- 
 tal aberration and confusion of the under- 
 standing; and so he came up to him and 
 asked "Whither are you hurrying, or what 
 has made you forget the gravity of years and 
 disturbed you in this childish way, and made 
 you hurry about so rapidly " ? And when he 
 owing to his guilty conscience and confused 
 by this disgraceful excitement fancied that 
 the lust of his heart was discovered, and, as 
 
SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES. 
 
 315 
 
 the secrets of his heart were known to the old 
 man, did not venture to return any answer to 
 his inquiries, "Return," said he, "to your 
 cell, and at last recognize the fact that till 
 now you have been ignored or despised by 
 the devil, and not counted in the number of 
 those with whom he is daily roused to fight 
 and struggle against their efforts and earnest- 
 ness, — you who could not — I will not say 
 ward off, but not even postpone for one day, 
 a single dart of his aimed at you after so 
 many years spent in this profession of yours. 
 And with this the Lord has suffered you to 
 be wounded that you may at least learn in 
 your old age to sympathize with infirmities to 
 which you are a stranger, and may know from 
 your own case and experience how to conde- 
 scend to the frailties of the young, though 
 when you received a young man troubled by 
 an attack from the devil, you did not en- 
 courage him with any consolation, but gave 
 him up in dejection and destructive despair 
 into the hands of the enemy, to be, as far as 
 you were concerned, miserably destroyed by 
 him. But the enemy would certainly never 
 have attacked him with so fierce an onslaught, 
 with which he has up till now scorned to 
 attack you, unless in his jealousy at the pro- 
 gress he was to make, he had endeavoured to 
 get the better of that virtue which he saw lay 
 in his disposition, and to destroy it with his 
 fiery darts, as he knew without the shadow of 
 a doubt that he was the stronger, since he 
 deemed it worth his while to attack him with 
 such vehemence. And so learn from your 
 own experience to sympathize with those in 
 trouble, and never to terrify with destructive 
 despair those who are in danger, nor harden 
 them with severe speeches, but rather restore 
 them with gentle and kindly consolations, 
 and as the wise Solomon says, " Spare not to 
 deliver those who are led forth to death, and 
 to redeem those who are to be slain," 1 and 
 after the example of our Saviour, break not 
 the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking 
 flax, 2 and ask of the Lord that grace, by 
 means of which you yourself may faithfully 
 learn both in deed and power to sing: "the 
 Lord hath given me a learned tongue that I 
 should know how to uphold by word him that 
 is weary: " 3 for no one could bear the devices 
 of the enemy, or extinguish or repress those 
 carnal fires which burn with a sort of natural 
 flame, unless God's grace assisted our weak- 
 ness, or protected and supported it. And 
 therefore, as the reason for this salutary inci- 
 dent is over, by which the Lord meant to set 
 that young man free from dangerous desires 
 
 1 Prov. xxiv. 11. 2 Cf. S. Matt. xii. 20. 
 
 3 Is. 1. 4. 
 
 and to teach you something of the violence of 
 their attack, and of the feeling of compassion, 
 let us together implore Him in prayer, that 
 He may be pleased to remove that scourge, 
 which the Lord thought good to lay upon you 
 for your good (for " He maketh sorry and 
 cureth: he striketh and his hands heal. He 
 humbleth and exalteth, he killeth and mak- 
 eth alive: he bringeth down to the grave 
 and bringeth up ") 4 , and may extinguish with 
 the abundant dew of His Spirit the fiery 
 darts of the devil, which at my desire He 
 allowed to wound you. And although the 
 Lord removed this temptation at a single 
 prayer of the old man with the same speed 
 with which He had suffered it to come upon 
 him, yet He showed by a clear proof that a 
 man's faults when laid bare were not merely 
 not to be scolded, but that the grief of one 
 in trouble ought not to be lightly despised. 
 And therefore never let the clumsiness or 
 shallowness of one old man or of a few deter 
 you and keep you back from that life-giving 
 way, of which we spoke earlier, or from the tra- 
 dition of the Elders, if our crafty enemy makes 
 a wrongful use of their grey hairs in order to 
 deceive younger men : but without any cloak 
 of shame everything should be disclosed to 
 the Elders, and remedies for wounds be faith- 
 fully received from them together with exam- 
 ples of life and conversation :' from which 
 we shall find like help and the same sort of 
 result, if we try to do nothing at all on our 
 own responsibility and judgment. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Of the call of Samuel. 
 
 Lastly so far has this opinion been shown 
 to be pleasing to God that we see that this 
 system not without reason finds a place in 
 holy Scripture, so that the Lord would not 
 of Himself instruct by the method of a Divine 
 colloquy the lad Samuel, when chosen for 
 judgment, but suffered him to run once or 
 twice to the old man, and willed that one 
 whom He was calling to converse with Him 
 should be taught even by one who had offended 
 God, as he was an old man, and preferred 
 that he whom He had deemed worthy to be 
 called by Him should be trained by the Elder 
 in order to test the humility of him who was 
 called to a Divine office, and to set an example 
 to the younger men by the manner of his sub- 
 jection. 
 
 4 Job v. 1S; 1 Sam. ii. 6, 7. 
 
31.6 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Of the call of the Apostle Paul. 
 
 And when Christ in His own Person called 
 and addressed Paul, although He might have 
 opened out to him at once the way of per- 
 fection, yet He chose rather to direct him to 
 Ananias and commanded him to learn the 
 way of truth from him, saying: "Arise and 
 go into the city and there it shall be told thee 
 what thou oughtest to do." 1 So He sends 
 him to an older man, and thinks good to have 
 him instructed by his teaching rather than 
 His own, lest what might have been rightly 
 done in the case of Paul might set a bad 
 example of self-sufficiency, if each one were to 
 persuade himself that he also ought in like 
 manner to be trained by the government and 
 teaching of God alone rather than by the in- 
 struction of the Elders. And this self-suffi- 
 ciency the apostle himself teaches, not only by 
 his letters but by his acts and deeds, ought 
 to be shunned with all possible care, as he 
 says that he went up to Jerusalem solely for 
 this reason; viz., to communicate in a pri- 
 vate and informal conference with his co- 
 apostles and those who were before him 
 that Gospel which he preached to the Gen- 
 tiles, the grace of the Holy Spirit accompany- 
 ing him with powerful signs and wonders : 
 as he says "And I communicated with them 
 the Gospel which I preach among the Gen- 
 tiles lest perhaps I had run or should run in 
 vain." 2 Who then is so self-sufficient and 
 blind as to dare to trust in his own judgment 
 and discretion when the chosen vessel con- 
 fesses that he had need of conference with his 
 fellow apostles. Whence we clearly see that 
 the Lord does not Himself show the way of 
 perfection to anyone who having the oppor- 
 tunity of learning depises the teaching and 
 training of the Elders, paying no heed to 
 that saying which ought most carefully to be 
 observed: "Ask thy father and he will show 
 it to thee: thine Elders and they will tell 
 thee." 3 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 How to seek for discretion. 
 
 We ought then with all our might to strive 
 for the virtue of discretion by the power of 
 humility, as it will keep us uninjured by 
 either extreme, for there is an old saying 
 uxootijts; /fT07?/7fc, i.e., extremes meet. For 
 excess of fasting and gluttony come to the 
 same thing, and an unlimited continuance of 
 
 : Gal. ii. 2. 
 
 3 Deut. xxxii. 7. 
 
 vigils is equally injurious to a monk as the tor- 
 por of a deep sleep : for when a man is weak- 
 ened by excessive abstinence he is sure to 
 return to that condition in which a man is kept 
 through carelessness and negligence, so that 
 we have often seen those who could not be 
 deceived by gluttony, destroyed by excessive 
 fasting and by reason of weakness liable to 
 that passion which they had before overcome. 
 Unreasonable vigils and nightly watchings 
 have also been the ruin of some whom sleep 
 could not get the better of : wherefore as the 
 apostle says "with the arms of righteousness 
 on the right hand and on the left," i we pass 
 on with due moderation, and walk between 
 the two extremes, under the guidance of dis- 
 cretion, that we may not consent to be led 
 away from the path of continence marked out 
 for us, nor fall by undue carelessness into the 
 pleasures of the palate and belly. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 On excessive fasts and vigils. 
 
 For I remember that I had so often resisted 
 the desire for food, that having abstained 
 from taking any for two or three days, my 
 mind was not troubled even by the recollec- 
 tion of any eatables and also that sleep was 
 by the assaults of the devil so far removed 
 from my eyes, that for several days and 
 nights I used to pray the Lord to grant a little 
 sleep to my eyes ; and then I felt that I was in 
 greater peril from the want of food and sleep 
 than from struggling against sloth and glut- 
 tony. And so as we ought to be careful 
 not to fall into dangerous effeminacy through 
 desire for bodily gratification, nor indulge 
 ourselves with eating before the right time 
 nor take too much, so also we ought to refresh 
 ourselves with food and sleep at the proper 
 time even if we dislike it. For the struggle 
 in each case is caused by the devices of the 
 enemy; and excessive abstinence is still more 
 injurious to us than careless satiety: for from 
 this latter the intervention of a healthy com- 
 punction will raise us to the right measure of 
 strictness, and not from the former. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A question on the right measure of abstinence and refreshment. 
 
 Germanus: What then is the measure of 
 abstinence by keeping which with even ba- 
 lance we shall succeed in passing unharmed 
 between the two extremes ? 
 
 4 2 Cor. vi. 7. 
 
SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES. 
 
 317 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Of the best plan for our daily food. 
 
 Moses : On this matter we are aware that 
 there have been frequent discussions among 
 our Elders. For in discussing the abstinence 
 of some who supported their lives continually 
 on nothing but beans or only on vegetables 
 and fruits, they proposed to all of them to 
 partake of bread alone, the right measure of 
 which they fixed at two biscuits, so small that 
 they assuredly scarcely weighed a pound. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 An objection on the ease of that abstinence in which a man is 
 sustained by two biscuits. 
 
 And this we gladly embraced, and answered 
 that we should scarcely consider this limit as 
 abstinence, as we could not possibly reach it 
 entirely. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 The answer concerning the value and measure of well-proved 
 abstinence. 
 
 Moses : If you want to test the force of this 
 rule, keep to this limit continually, never 
 departing from it by taking any cooked food 
 even on Sunday or Saturday, or on the occa- 
 sions of the arrival of any of the brethren; 
 for the flesh, refreshed by these exceptions, is 
 able not only to support itself through the 
 rest of the week on a smaller quantity, but 
 can also postpone all refreshment without 
 difficulty, as it is sustained by the addition 
 of that food which it has taken beyond the 
 limit; while the man who has always been 
 satisfied with the full amount of the above- 
 mentioned measure will never be able to do 
 this, nor to put off breaking his fast till the 
 morrow. For I remember that our Elders 
 (and I recollect that we ourselves also often 
 had the same experience) found it so hard 
 and difficult to practise this abstinence, and 
 observed the rule laid down with such pain 
 and hunger that it was almost against their 
 will and with tears and lamentation that they 
 set this limit to their meals. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 What is the usual limit both of abstinence and of partaking 
 food. 
 
 _ But this is the usual limit of abstinence ; 
 viz., for everyone to allow himself food ac- 
 
 cording to the requirements of his strength or 
 bodily frame or age, in such quantity as is 
 required for the support of the flesh, and not 
 for the satisfactory feeling of repletion. For 
 on both sides a man will suffer the greatest 
 injury, if having no fixed rule at one time he 
 pinches his stomach with meagre food and 
 fasts, and at another stuffs it by over-eating 
 himself; for as the mind which is enfeebled 
 for lack of food loses vigour in praying, while 
 it is worn out with excessive weakness of 
 the flesh and forced to doze, so again when 
 weighed down with over-eating it cannot pour 
 forth to God pure and free prayers: nor will 
 it succeed in preserving uninterruptedly the 
 purity of its chastity, while even on those 
 days on which it seems to chastise the flesh 
 with severer abstinence, it feeds the fire of 
 carnal desire with the fuel of the food that it 
 has already taken. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Quemadmodum abundantia umorum genitalium castigetur.l 
 
 Nam quod semel per escarum abundantian 
 concretus fuerit in medullis, necesse est egeri 
 atque ab ipsa naturae lege propelli, quae exu- 
 berantiam cujuslibet umoris superflui velut 
 noxiam sibi atque contrariam in semet ipsa 
 residere non patitur ideoque rationabili sem- 
 per et aequali est corpus nostrum parsimonia 
 castigandum, ut si naturali hac necessitate 
 commorantes in carne omnimodis carere non 
 possumus, saltim rarius nos et non amplius 
 quamtrina vice ista conluvione respersos totius 
 anni cursus inveniat, quod tamen sine ullo 
 pruritu quietus egerat sopor, non fallax imago 
 index occultae voluptatis eliciat. 
 
 Wherefore this is the moderate and even 
 allowance and measure of abstinence, of 
 which we spoke, which has the approval also 
 of the judgment of the fathers; viz., that daily 
 hunger should go hand in hand with our daily 
 meals, preserving both body and soul in one 
 and the same condition, and not allowing the 
 mind either to faint through weariness from 
 fasting, nor to be oppressed by over-eating, 
 for it ends in such a sparing diet that some- 
 times a man neither notices nor remembers in 
 the evening that he has broken his fast. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Of the difficulty of uniformity in eating; and of the gluttony 
 of brother Benjamin. 
 
 And so far is this not done without diffi- 
 culty, that those who know nothing of perfect 
 
 1 It has been thought best to leave the first part of the following 
 chapter untranslated. 
 
3i8 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 discretion would rather prolong their fasts for 
 two days, and reserve for tomorrow what 
 they should have eaten today, so that when 
 they come to partake of food they may enjoy 
 as much as they can desire. And you know 
 that lastly your fellow citizen Benjamin most 
 obstinately stuck to this: as he would not 
 every day partake of his two biscuits, nor 
 continually take his meagre fare with uniform 
 self-discipline, but preferred always to con- 
 tinue his fasts for two days that when he came 
 to eat he might fill his greedy stomach with 
 a double portion, and by eating four biscuits 
 enjoy a comfortable sense of repletion, and 
 manage to fill his belly by means of a two 
 days' fast. And you doubtless remember 
 what sort of an end there was to the life of 
 this man who obstinately and pertinaciously 
 relied on his own judgment rather than on 
 the traditions of the Elders, for he forsook 
 the desert and returned back to the vain phi- 
 losophy of this world and earthly vanities, 
 and so confirmed the above mentioned opinion 
 of the Elders by the example of his downfall, 
 and by his destruction teaches a lesson that 
 no one who trusts in his own opinion and 
 judgment can possibly climb the heights of 
 perfection, nor fail to be deceived by the 
 dangerous wiles of the devil. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 A question how is it possible always to observe one and the 
 same measure. 
 
 Germanus: How then can we observe this 
 measure without ever breaking it ? for some- 
 times at the ninth hour when the Station fast 1 
 is over, brethren come to see us and then we 
 must either for their sakes add something to 
 our fixed and customary portion, or certainly 
 fail in that courtesy which we are told to show 
 to everybody. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 The answer how we should not exceed the proper measure of 
 food. 
 
 Moses : Both duties must be observed in 
 the same way and with equal care : for we 
 ought most scrupulously to preserve the 
 proper allowance of food for the sake of our 
 
 1 On the Statio see the note on the Institutes V. xx. 
 
 abstinence, and in like manner out of charity 
 to show courtesy and encouragement to any of 
 the brethren who may arrive ; because it is 
 absolutely ridiculous when you offer food to a 
 brother, nay, to Christ Himself, not to par- 
 take of it with him, but to make yourself a 
 stranger to his repast. And so we shall keep 
 clear of guilt on either hand if we observe this 
 plan; viz., at the ninth hour to partake of one 
 of the two biscuits which form our proper 
 canonical allowance, and to keep back the 
 other to the evening, in expectation of some- 
 thing like this, that if any of the brethren 
 comes to see us we may partake of it with him, 
 and so add nothing to our own customary al- 
 lowance : and by this arrangement the arrival 
 of our brother which ought to be a pleasure to 
 us will cause us no inconvenience : since we 
 shall show him the civilities which courtesy 
 requires in such a way as to relax nothing of 
 the strictness of our abstinence. But if no 
 one should come, we may freely take this last 
 biscuit as belonging to us according to our 
 canonical rule, and by this frugality of ours as 
 a single biscuit was taken at the ninth hour, 
 our stomach will not be overloaded at even- 
 tide, a thing which is often the case with 
 those who under the idea that they are observ- 
 ing a stricter abstinence put off all their repast 
 till evening; for the fact that we have but 
 recently taken food hinders our intellect from 
 being bright and keen both in our evening and 
 in our nocturnal prayers, and so at the ninth 
 hour a convenient and suitable time has been 
 allowed for food, in which a monk can refresh 
 himself and so find that he is not only fresh 
 and bright during his nocturnal vigils, but 
 also perfectly ready for his evening prayers, 
 as his food is already digested. 
 
 With such a banquet of two courses, as it 
 were, the holy Moses feasted us, showing us 
 not only the grace and power of discretion 
 by his present learned speech, but also the 
 method of renunciation and the end and aim 
 of the monastic life by the discussion previ- 
 ously held; so as to make clearer than day- 
 light what \ve had hitherto pursued simply 
 with fervour of spirit and zeal for God but 
 with closed eyes, and to make us feel how far 
 we had up till then wandered from purity of 
 heart and the straight line of our course, since 
 the practice of all visible arts belonging to 
 this life cannot possibly stand without an un- 
 derstanding of their aim, nor can it be taken 
 in hand without a clear view of a definite end. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PAPHNUTIUS. 
 
 3 J 9 
 
 III. 
 
 CONFERNECE OF ABBOT PAPHNUTIUS. 
 
 ON THE THREE SORTS OF RENUNCIATIONS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Of the life and conduct of Abbot Paphnutius. 
 
 In that choir of saints who shine like bril- 
 liant stars in the night of this world, we have 
 seen the holy Paphnutius, 1 like some great 
 luminary, shining with the brightness of 
 knowledge. For he was a presbyter of our 
 company, I mean of those whose abode was in 
 the desert of Scete, where he lived to extreme 
 old age, without ever moving from his cell, of 
 which he had taken possession when still 
 young, and which was five miles from the 
 church, even to nearer districts ; nor was he 
 when worn out with years hindered by the 
 distance from going to Church on Saturday 
 or Sunday. But not wanting to return from 
 thence empty handed he would lay on his 
 shoulders a bucket of water to last him all the 
 week, and carry it back to his cell, and even 
 when he was past ninety would not suffer it to 
 be fetched by the labour of younger men. He 
 then from his earliest youth threw himself 
 into the monastic discipline with such fervour 
 that when he had spent only a short time in 
 it, he was endowed with the virtue of submis- 
 sion, as well as the knowledge of all good 
 qualities. For by the practice of humility 
 and obedience he mortified all his desires, 
 and by this stamped out all his faults and 
 acquired every virtue which the monastic 
 system and the teaching of the ancient fathers 
 produces, and, inflamed with desire for still 
 further advances, he was eager to penetrate 
 into the recesses of the desert, so that, with 
 no human companions to disturb him, he 
 
 1 Paphnutius. The name is not uncommon in the annals of the 
 fourth century : (i) A Deacon who bore it suffered in the persecu- 
 tion of Diocletian ; and (2) a Bishop of the same name, who had 
 been a confessor, was mainly instrumental in preventing the rule of 
 celibacy being forced on the clergy by the Council of Nicsea ; (3) 
 another was a prominent member of the Meletian schism ; while 
 (4) a fourth was present, as Bishop of Sais in Lower Egypt, at the 
 Council of Alexandria in 362 ; and (5) the life of a fifth is given by 
 Palladius (Hist. Laus. lxii.-lxv.) and Rufinus (Hist. Monach. c. 
 xvi.). The one whom Cassian here mentions, surnamed the Buf- 
 falo, is apparently a different person from the last mentioned. 
 Further details of his history are given in the Institutes IV. c. xxx. 
 xxxi., and in Conference X. ii., iii. Cassian tells the interesting 
 / story of his share in the Anthropomorphite controversy, and the 
 beneficial influence which he then exercised. 
 
 might be more readily united to the Lord, to 
 whom he longed to be inseparably joined, 
 even while he still lived in the society of the 
 brethren. And there once more in his exces- 
 sive fervour he outstripped the virtues of the 
 Anchorites, and in his eager desire for con- 
 tinual divine meditation avoided the sight of 
 them: and he plunged into solitary places 
 yet wilder and more inaccessible, and hid 
 himself for a long while in them, so that, as 
 the Anchorites themselves only with great 
 difficulty caught a glimpse of him every now 
 and then, the belief was that he enjoyed and 
 delighted in the daily society of angels, 
 and because of this remarkable characteristic 
 of his 2 he was surnamed by them the Buffalo. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Of the discourse of the same old man, and our reply to it. 
 
 As then we were anxious to learn from 
 his teaching, we came in some agitation to 
 his cell towards evening. And after a short 
 silence he began to commend our undertaking, 
 because we had left our homes, and had visited 
 so many countries out of love for the Lord, and 
 were endeavouring with all our might to en- 
 dure want and the trials of the desert, and to 
 imitate their severe life, which even those 
 who had been born and bred in the same state 
 of want and penury, could scarcely put up 
 with; and we replied that we had come for 
 his teaching and instruction in order that we 
 might be to some extent initiated in the cus- 
 toms of so great a man, and in that perfection 
 which we had known from many evidences to 
 exist in him, not that we might be honoured 
 by any commendations to which we had no 
 right, or be puffed up with any elation of 
 mind, (with which we were sometimes exer- 
 cised in our own cells at the suggestion of 
 our enemy) in consequence of any words of his. 
 Wherefore we begged him rather to lay before 
 us what would make us humble and contrite, 
 and not what would flatter us and puff us up. 
 
 2 i.e., his solitariness. 
 
320 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The statement of Abbot Paphnutius on the three kinds of 
 vocations, and the three sorts of renunciations. 
 
 Then the blessed Paphnutius: There 
 are, said he, three kinds of vocations. And 
 we know that there are three sorts of renun- 
 ciations as well, which are necessary to a 
 monk, whatever his vocation may be. And 
 we ought diligently to examine first the reason 
 for which we said that there were three kinds 
 of vocations, that when we are sure that we are 
 summoned to God's service in the first stage 
 of our vocation, we may take care that our life 
 is in harmony with the exalted height to 
 which we are called, for it will be of no use 
 to have made a good beginning if we do not 
 show forth an end corresponding to it. But 
 if we feel that only in the last resort have we 
 been dragged away from a worldly life, then, 
 as it appears that we rest on a less satisfac- 
 tory beginning as regards religion, so must we 
 proportionately make the more earnest en- 
 deavours to rouse ourselves with spiritual fer- 
 vour to make a better end. It is well too on 
 every ground for us to know secondly the 
 manner of the threefold renunciations because 
 we shall never be able to attain perfection, if 
 we are ignorant of it or if we know it, but do 
 not attempt to carry it out in act. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 An explanation of the three callings. 
 
 To make clear therefore the main differ- 
 ences between these three kinds of calling, 
 the first is from God, the second comes 
 through man, the third is from compulsion. 
 And a calling is from God whenever some in- 
 spiration has taken possession of our heart, 
 and even while we are asleep stirs in us a 
 desire for eternal life and salvation, and bids 
 us follow God and cleave to His command- 
 ments with life-giving contrition: as we read 
 in Holy Scripture that Abraham was called 
 by the voice of the Lord from his native 
 country, and all his dear relations, and his 
 father's house; when the Lord said "Get thee 
 out from thy country and from thy kinsfolk 
 and from thy father's house." * And in this 
 way we have heard that the blessed Antony 
 also was called, 2 the occasion of whose con- 
 
 1 Gen. xii. i. 
 
 2 The story, to which allusion is here made, is given in the Vita 
 Antonii of Athanasius. We are there told that six months after the 
 death of his parents Antony, then a young man of eighteen, chanced 
 to enter a church just as the gospel for the day was being read: and 
 hearing the words, " If thou wilt be perfect," etc., he took them as 
 
 version was received from God alone. For 
 on entering a church he there heard in the 
 Gospel the Lord saying: "Whoever hateth 
 not father and mother and children and wife 
 and lands, yea and his own soul also, cannot 
 be my disciple ; " and "if thou wilt be per- 
 fect, go sell all that thou hast, and give to the 
 poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven, 
 and come, follow me: " 3 And with heartfelt 
 contrition he took this charge of the Lord as 
 if specially aimed at him, and at once gave 
 up everything and followed Christ, without 
 any incitement thereto from the advice and 
 teaching of men. The second kind of calling 
 is that which we said took place through man ; 
 viz., when we are stirred up by the example 
 of some of the saints, and their advice, and 
 thus inflamed with the desire of salvation: 
 and by this we never forget that by the grace 
 of the Lord we ourselves were summoned, as 
 we were aroused by the advice and good 
 example of the above-mentioned saint, to give 
 ourselves up to this aim and calling; and in 
 this way also we find in Holy Scripture that 
 it was through Moses that the children of 
 Israel were delivered from the Egyptian bond- 
 age. But the third kind of calling is that 
 which comes from compulsion, when we have 
 been involved in the riches and pleasures of 
 this life, and temptations suddenly come upon 
 us and either threaten us with peril of death, 
 or smite us with the loss and confiscation of 
 our goods, or strike us down with the death of 
 those dear to us, and thus at length even 
 against our will we are driven to turn to God 
 whom we scorned to follow in the days of our 
 wealth. And of this compulsory call we 
 often find instances in Scripture, when we 
 read that on account of their sins the children 
 of Israel were given up by the Lord to their 
 enemies; and that on account of their tyranny 
 and savage cruelty they turned again, and 
 cried to the Lord. And it says: " The Lord 
 sent them a Saviour, called Ehud, the son of 
 Gera, the son of Jemini, who used the left 
 hand as well as the right: " and again we are 
 told, " they cried unto the Lord, who raised 
 them up a Saviour and delivered them, to wit, 
 Othniel, the son of Kenaz, Caleb's younger 
 brother." 4 And it is of such that the Psalm 
 speaks: "When He slew them, then they 
 sought Him: and they returned and came to 
 Him early in the morning: and they remem- 
 
 addressed speciallv to himself, and at once proceeded to act upon 
 them, selling all that he had except a small portion which he re- 
 served for his sister's maintenance. Shortly after he was struck by 
 the words, " Take no thought for the morrow," which he heard in 
 church, and acting upon this, made away with the little property 
 which was left, committed his sister to the care of certain faithful 
 virgins, and betook himself to the ascetic life. 
 
 '3 S. Luke xiv. 26; S. Matt. xix. 21. 
 
 * Judg. iii. 15, 9. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PAPHNUTIUS. 
 
 321 
 
 bered that God was their helper, and the most 
 High God their redeemer." And again: 
 "And they cried unto the Lord when they 
 were troubled, and He delivered them out of 
 their distress." x 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 How the first of these calls is of no use to a sluggard, and 
 the last is no hindrance to one who is in earnest. 
 
 Of these three calls then, although the 
 two former may seem to rest on better prin- 
 ciples, yet sometimes we find that even by 
 the third grade, which seems the lowest and 
 the coldest, men have been made perfect and 
 most earnest in spirit, and have become like 
 those who made an admirable beginning in 
 approaching the Lord's service, and passed 
 the rest of their lives also in most laud- 
 able fervour of spirit: and again we find 
 that from the higher grade very many have 
 grown cold, and often have come to a miser- 
 able end. And just as it was no hindrance 
 to the former class that they seemed to be 
 converted not of their own free will, but 
 by force and compulsion, in as much as the 
 loving kindness of the Lord secured for them 
 the opportunity for repentance, so too to the 
 latter it was of no avail that the early days of 
 their conversion were so bright, because they 
 were not careful to bring the remainder of 
 their life to a suitable end. For in the case 
 of Abbot Moses, 2 who lived in a spot in the 
 wilderness called Calamus, 3 nothing was 
 wanting to his merits and perfect bliss, in 
 consequence of the fact that he was driven 
 to flee to the monastery through fear of death, 
 which was hanging over him because of a 
 murder; for he made such use of his compul- 
 sory conversion that with ready zeal he turned 
 it into a voluntary one and climbed the top- 
 most heights of perfection. As also on the 
 other hand ; to very many, whose names I ought 
 not to mention, it has been of no avail that 
 they entered on the Lord's service with better 
 beginning than this, as afterwards sloth and 
 hardness of heart crept over them, and they 
 fell into a dangerous state of torpor, and the 
 bottomless pit of death, an instance of which 
 we see clearly indicated in the call of the 
 Apostles. For of what good was it to Judas 
 that he had of his own free will embraced 
 
 1 Ps. lxxvii. (lxxviiiO'34, 35 ; cvi. (cvii.) 19. 
 
 2 Moses. This Abbot is possibly a different person from the 
 author of the first two Conferences, who had in his youth been a 
 pupil of Antony ; whereas the one here mentioned only took the 
 monastic life out of fear of death on a charge of murder. He is 
 mentioned again in Conferences VII. xxvi.; XIX. xi., and some 
 account of him is given in Sozomen H.E. VI. xxix. 
 
 3 Calamus, mentioned again in the Institutes X. xxiv. (where see 
 note), and cf. Conf. VII. xxvi.; XXIV. iv. 
 
 the highest grade of the Apostolate in the 
 same way in which Peter and the rest of the 
 Apostles had been summoned, as he allowed 
 the splendid beginning of his call to terminate 
 in a ruinous end of cupidity and covetousness, 
 and as a cruel murderer even rushed into the 
 betrayal of the Lord ? Or what hindrance was 
 it to Paul that he was suddenly blinded, and 
 seemed to be drawn against his will into the 
 way of salvation, as afterwards he followed 
 the Lord with complete fervour of soul, and 
 having begun by compulsion completed it by 
 a free and voluntary devotion, and terminated 
 with a magnificent end a life that was ren- 
 dered glorious by such great deeds ? Every- 
 thing therefore depends upon the end; in 
 which one who was consecrated by a noble 
 conversion at the outset may through careless- 
 ness turn out a failure, and one who was 
 compelled by necessity to adopt the monastic 
 life may through fear of God and earnestness 
 be made perfect. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 An account of the three sorts of renunciations. 
 
 We must now speak of the renunciations, of 
 which tradition and the authority of Holy 
 Scripture show us three, and which every one of 
 us ought with the utmost zeal to make com- 
 plete. The first is that by which as far as 
 the body is concerned we make light of all 
 the wealth and goods of this world; the 
 second, that by which we reject the fashions 
 and vices and former affections of soul and 
 flesh ; the third, that by which we detach our 
 soul from all present and visible things, and 
 contemplate only things to come, and set our 
 heart on what is invisible. And we read that 
 the Lord charged Abraham to do all these 
 three at once, when He said to him "Get thee 
 out from thy country, and thy kinsfolk, and 
 thy father's house." 4 First He said "from 
 thy country," i.e., from the goods of this 
 world, and earthly riches: secondly, "from 
 thy kinsfolk, " i.e., from this former life and 
 habits and sins, which cling to us from our 
 very birth and are joined to us as it were by 
 ties of affinity and kinship : thirdly, " from thy 
 father's house," i.e., from all the recollection 
 of this world, which the sight of the eyes can 
 afford. For of the two fathers, i.e., of the one 
 who is to be forsaken, and of the one who is to 
 be sought, David thus speaks in the person of 
 God: "Hearken, O daughter, and consider, 
 and incline thine ear: forget also thine own 
 people and thy father's house : ' ' 5 for the person 
 
 4 Gen. xii. 1. 
 
 Ps. xliv. (xlv.) 11. 
 
322 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 who says " Hearken, O daughter, " is certainly 
 a Father; and yet he bears witness that the 
 one, whose house and people he urges should 
 be forgotten, is none the less father of his 
 daughter. And this happens when being dead 
 with Christ to the rudiments of this world, 
 we no longer, as the Apostle says, regard "the 
 things which are seen, but those which are 
 not seen, for the things which are not 
 seen are eternal," 1 and going forth in heart 
 from this temporal and visible home, turn 
 our eyes and heart towards that in which 
 we are to remain for ever. And this we shall 
 succeed in doing when, while we walk in 
 the flesh, we are no longer at war with the 
 Lord according to the flesh, proclaiming in 
 deed and actions the truth of that saying of 
 the blessed Apostle "Our conversation is in 
 heaven." 2 To these three sorts of renuncia- 
 tions the three books of Solomon suitably 
 correspond. For Proverbs answers to the first 
 renunciation, as in it the desires for carnal 
 things and earthly sins are repressed; to the 
 second Ecclesiastes corresponds, as there 
 everything which is done under the sun is 
 declared to be vanity; to the third die Song 
 of Songs, in which the soul soaring above all 
 things visible, is actually joined to the word 
 of God by the contemplation of heavenly 
 things. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 How we can attain perfection in each of these sorts of renun- 
 ciations. 
 
 Wherefore it will not be of much advan- 
 tage to us that we have made our first renun- 
 ciation with the utmost devotion and faith, if 
 we do not complete the second with the same 
 zeal and ardour. And so when we have suc- 
 ceeded in this, we shall be able to arrive at 
 the third as well, in which we go forth from 
 the house of our former parent, (who, as we 
 know well, was our father from our very birth, 
 after the old man, when we were ' ' by nature 
 children of wrath, as others also," 3 ) and fix 
 our whole mental gaze on things celestial. 
 And of this father Scripture says to Jerusa- 
 lem which had despised God the true Father, 
 "Thy father was an Amorite, and thy mother 
 a Hittite; " 4 and in the gospel we read "Ye 
 are of your father the devil and the lusts of 
 your father ye love to do." 5 And when we 
 have left him, as we pass from things visible 
 to things unseen we shall be able to say 
 with the Apostle: "But we know that if our 
 earthly house of this tabernacle is dissolved 
 we have a habitation from God, a house not 
 made with hands, eternal in the heavens," 6 
 
 and this also, which we quoted a little while 
 ago: "But our conversation is in heaven, 
 whence also we look for the Saviour, the 
 Lord Jesus, who will reform the body of 
 our low estate made like to the body of His 
 glory, " 7 and this of the blessed David : " For 
 I am a sojourner upon the earth," and " a 
 stranger as all my fathers were; " 8 so that we 
 may in accordance with the Lord's word be 
 made like those of whom the Lord speaks to 
 His Father in the gospel as follows : ' ' They are 
 not of the worlck as I am not of the world," 9 
 and again to the Apostles themselves: "If 
 ye were of this world, the world would love 
 its own : but because ye are not of this world, 
 therefore the world hateth you." 10 Of this 
 third renunciation then we shall succeed in 
 reaching the perfection, whenever our soul is 
 sullied by no stain of carnal coarseness, but, 
 all such having been carefully eliminated, it 
 has been freed from every earthly quality and 
 desire, and by constant meditation on things 
 Divine, and spiritual contemplation has so 
 far passed on to things unseen, that in its 
 earnest seeking after things above and things 
 spiritual it no longer feels that it is prisoned 
 in this fragile flesh, and bodily form, but is 
 caught up into such an ecstasy as not only to 
 hear no words with the outward ear, or to 
 busy itself with gazing on the forms of things 
 present, but not even to see things close at 
 hand, or large objects straight before the very 
 eyes. And of this no one can understand the 
 truth and force, except one who has made 
 trial of what has been said, under the teaching 
 of experience; viz., one, the eyes of whose 
 soul the Lord has turned away from all 
 things present, so that he no longer considers 
 them as things that will soon pass away, but 
 as things that are already done with, and sees 
 them vanish into nothing, like misty smoke; 
 and like Enoch, "walking with God," and 
 "translated" from human life and fashions, 
 not "be found " amid the vanities of this life. 
 And that this actually happened corporeally 
 in the case of Enoch the book of Genesis thus 
 tells us. " And Enoch walked with God, and 
 was not found, for God translated him." 
 And the Apostle also says: "By faith Enoch 
 was translated that he should not see death," 
 the death namely of which the Lord says in 
 the gospel: "He that liveth and believeth 
 in me shall not die eternally." n Wherefore, 
 if we are anxious to attain true perfection, we 
 ought to look to it that as we have outwardly 
 with the body made light of parents, home, 
 the riches and pleasures of the world, we may 
 
 1 2 Cor. iv. 18. 
 
 2 Phil. iii. 20. 
 s Eph. ii. 3. 
 
 4 Ezek. xvi. 3. 
 B S. John viii. 44. 
 6 2 Cor. v. 1. 
 
 7 Phil. iii. 20, zi. 
 
 8 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 19; Ps. xxxviii. (xxxix.) 13. 
 
 9 S. John xvii. 16. 
 10 S. John xv. ig. 
 
 " Gen. v. 24 (LXX.) ; Heb. xi. 5 ; S. John xi. : 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PAPHNUTIUS. 
 
 323 
 
 also inwardly with the heart forsake all these 
 things and never be drawn back by any desires 
 to those things which we have forsaken, as 
 those who were led up by Moses, though they 
 did not literally go back, are yet said to have 
 returned in heart to Egypt; viz., by forsaking 
 God who had led them forth with such mighty 
 signs, and by worshipping the idols of Egypt 
 of which they had thought scorn, as Scripture 
 says: "And in their hearts they turned back 
 into Egypt, saying to Aaron: Make us gods 
 to go before us," 1 for we should fall into like 
 condemnation with those who, while dwelling 
 in the wilderness, after they had tasted manna 
 from heaven, lusted after the filthy food of 
 sins, and of mean baseness, and should seem 
 together with them to murmur in the same 
 way : " It was well with us in Egypt, when we 
 sat over the flesh pots and ate the onions, and 
 garlic, and cucumbers, and melons:" 2 A form 
 of speech, which, although it referred prima- 
 rily to that people, we yet see fulfilled today in 
 our own case and mode of life : for everyone 
 who after renouncing this world turns back to 
 his old desires, and reverts to his former likings 
 asserts in heart and act the very same thing 
 that they did, and says "It was well with me 
 in Egypt, ' ' and I am afraid that the number 
 of these will be as large as that of the multi- 
 tudes of backsliders of whom we read under 
 Moses, for though they were reckoned as six 
 hundred and three thousand armed men who 
 came out of Egypt, of this number not more 
 than two entered the land of promise. Where- 
 fore we should be careful to take exam- 
 ples of goodness from those who are few 
 and far between, because according to that 
 figure of which we have spoken in the gospel 
 "Many are called but few" are said to be 
 "chosen." 3 A renunciation then in body 
 alone, and a mere change of place from 
 Egypt will not do us any good, if we do not 
 succeed in achieving that renunciation in 
 heart, which is far higher and more valuable. 
 For of that mere bodily renunciation of which 
 we have spoken the apostle declares as fol- 
 lows: "Though I bestow all my goods to feed 
 the poor, and give my body to be burned, but 
 have not charity, it profiteth me nothing." 4 
 And the blessed Apostle would never have 
 said this had it not been that he foresaw by 
 the spirit that some who had given all their 
 goods to feed the poor would not be able to 
 attain to evangelical perfection and the lofty 
 heights of charity, because while pride or im- 
 patience ruled over their hearts they were not 
 careful to purify themselves from their former 
 
 1 Acts vii. 3q, 40. 
 
 2 Numb. xi. 18; Exod. xvi. 3 ; Numb. xi. 5. 
 
 3 S. Matt. xxii. 14. 
 
 4 1 Cor. xiii. 3. 
 
 sins, and unrestrained habits, and on that 
 account could never attain to that love of God 
 which never faileth, and these, as they fall 
 short in this second stage of renunciation, 
 can still less reach that third stage which 
 is most certainly far higher. But consider 
 too in your minds with great care the fact 
 that he did not simply say " If I bestow my 
 goods. " For it might perhaps be thought that 
 he spoke of one who had not fulfilled the 
 command of the gospel, but had kept back 
 something for himself, as some half-hearted 
 persons do. But he says " Though I bestow 
 all my goods to feed the poor," i.e., even if 
 my renunciation of those earthly riches be 
 perfect. And to this renunciation he adds 
 something still greater: "And though I give 
 my body to be burned, but have not charity, 
 I am nothing:" As if he had said in other 
 words, though I bestow all my goods to feed 
 the poor in accordance with that command in 
 the gospel, where we are told " If thou wilt 
 be perfect, go sell all that thou hast, and give 
 to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in 
 heaven," 5 renouncing them so as to keep 
 back nothing at all for myself, and though to 
 this distribution (of my goods) I should by 
 the burning of my flesh add martyrdom so as 
 to give up my body for Christ, and yet be im^ 
 patient, or passionate or envious or proud, or 
 excited by wrongs done by others, or seek 
 what is mine, or indulge in evil thoughts, or 
 not be ready and patient in bearing all that 
 can be inflicted on me, this renunciation and 
 the burning of the outer man will profit me 
 nothing, while the inner man is still involved 
 in the former sins, because, w r hile in the fer- 
 vour of the early days of my conversion I 
 made light of the mere worldly substance, 
 which is said to be not good or evil in itself 
 but indifferent, I took no care to cast out in 
 like manner the injurious powers of a bad 
 heart, or to attain to that love of the Lord 
 which is patient, which is "kind, which envieth 
 not, is not puffed up, is not soon angry, 
 dealeth not perversely, seeketh not her own, 
 thinketh no evil," which " beareth all things, 
 endureth all things," 6 and which lastly never 
 suffers him who follows after it to fall by the 
 deceitfulness of sin. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Of our very own possessions in which the beauty of the soul 
 is seen or its foulness. 
 
 We ought then to take the utmost care that 
 our inner man as well may cast off and make 
 
 5 S. Matt. xix. 21. 
 
 6 1 Cor. xiii. 4-7. 
 
324 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 away with all those possessions of its sins, 
 which it acquired in its former life : which as 
 they continually cling to body and soul are 
 our very own, and, unless we reject them and 
 cut them off while we are still in the flesh, 
 will not cease to accompany us after death. 
 For as good qualities, or charity itself which 
 is their source, may be gained in this world, 
 and after the close of this life make the man 
 who loves it lovely and glorious, so our faults 
 transmit to that eternal remembrance a mind 
 darkened and stained with foul colours. 
 For the beauty or ugliness of the soul is the 
 product of its virtues or its vices, the colour 
 it takes from which either makes it so glori- 
 ous, that it may well hear from the prophet 
 "And the king shall have pleasure in thy 
 beauty," 1 or so black, and foul, and ugly, 
 that it must surely acknowledge the stench 
 of its shame, and say " My wounds stink and 
 are corrupt because of my foolishness," 2 and 
 the Lord Himself says to it "Why is not 
 the wound of the daughter of my people 
 closed? " 3 And therefore these are our very 
 own possessions, which continually remain 
 with the soul, which no king and no enemy 
 can either give or take away from us. These 
 are our very own possessions which not even 
 death itself can part from the soul, but by 
 renouncing which we can attain to perfection, 
 and by clinging to which we shall suffer the 
 punishment of eternal death. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Of three sorts of possessions. 
 
 Riches and possessions are taken in Holy 
 Scripture in three different ways, i.e., as good, 
 bad, and indifferent. Those are bad, of which 
 it is said: "The rich have wanted and have 
 suffered hunger, " 4 and "Woe unto you that 
 are rich, for ye have received your consola- 
 tion:" 5 and to have cast off these riches is 
 the height of perfection; and a distinction 
 which belongs to those, poor who are com- 
 mended in the gospel by the Lord's saying: 
 " Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is 
 the kingdom of heaven; " 6 and in the Psalm: 
 " This poor man cried, and the Lord heard 
 him," 7 and again: ''The poor and needy 
 shall praise thy name." 8 Those riches are 
 good, to acquire which is the work of great 
 virtue and merit, and the righteous possessor 
 of which is praised by David who says " The 
 
 1 Ps. xliv. (xlv.) 12. 
 
 2 Ps. xxxvii. (xxxviii.) 6. 
 
 3 Jer. viii. 22. 
 
 * Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) n. 
 
 6 S. Luke vi. 24. 
 
 6 S. Matt. v. 3. 
 
 7 Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 7. 
 
 8 Ps. lxxiii. (lxxiv.) 21. 
 
 generation of the righteous shall be blessed: 
 glory and riches are in his house, and his 
 righteousness remaineth for ever:" 9 and 
 again "the ransom of a man's life are his 
 riches." 10 And of these riches it is said in 
 the Apocalypse to him who has them not and 
 to his shame is poor and naked: "I will 
 begin," says he, "to vomit thee out of my 
 mouth. Because thou sayest I am rich and 
 wealthy and have need of nothing: and 
 knowest not that thou art wretched and mis- 
 erable and poor and blind and naked, I coun- 
 sel thee to buy of me gold fire-tried, that 
 thou mayest be made rich, and mayest be 
 clothed in white garments, and that the 
 shame of thy nakedness may not appear." u 
 There are some also which are indifferent, 
 i.e., which may be made either good or bad: 
 for they are made either one or the other in 
 accordance with the will and character of 
 those who use them: of which the blessed 
 Apostle says " Charge the rich of this world 
 not to be high-minded nor to trust in the un- 
 certainty of riches, but in God (who giveth 
 us abundantly all things to enjoy), to do good, 
 to give easily, to communicate to others, to 
 lay up in store for themselves a good founda- 
 tion that they may lay hold on the true life. " 12 
 These are what the rich man in the gospel 
 kept, and never distributed to the poor, — 
 while the beggar Lazarus was lying at his 
 gate and desiring to be fed with his crumbs; 
 and so he was condemned to the unbearable 
 flames and everlasting heat of hell-fire. 13 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 That none can become perfect merely through the first grade 
 of renunciation. 
 
 In leaving then these visible goods of the 
 world we forsake not our own wealth, but that 
 which is not ours, although we boast of it as 
 either gained by our own exertions or in- 
 herited by us from our forefathers. For as I 
 said nothing is our own, save this only which 
 we possess with our heart, and which cleaves 
 to our soul, and therefore cannot be taken 
 away from us by any one. But Christ speaks 
 in terms of censure of those visible riches, to 
 those who clutch them as if they were their 
 own, and refuse to share them with those in 
 want. " If ye have not been faithful in what 
 is another's, who will give to you what is your 
 own ? " 14 Plainly then it is not only daily 
 
 9 Ps. cxi. (cxii.) 2, 3. 
 
 10 Prov. xiii. S. 
 
 11 Rev. iii. 16-18. 
 
 12 1 Tim. vi. 17-19. 
 
 13 Cf . S. Luke xiv. 19 sq. 
 
 14 S. Luke xvi. 12. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PAPHNUTIUS. 
 
 325 
 
 experience which teaches us that these riches 
 are not our own, but this saying of our Lord 
 also, by the very title which it gives them. 
 But concerning visible 1 and worthless riches 
 Peter says to the Lord: " Lo, we have left all 
 and followed thee. What shall we have 
 therefore? " 2 when it is clear that they had 
 left nothing but their miserable broken nets. 
 And unless this expression "all" is under- 
 stood to refer to that renunciation of sins, 
 which is really great and important, we shall 
 not find that the Apostles had left anything 
 of any value, or that the Lord had any reason 
 for bestowing on them the blessing of so great 
 glory, that they were allowed to hear from 
 Him that "in the regeneration, when the Son 
 of Man shall sit on the throne of His glory, 
 ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones judging 
 the twelve tribes of Israel." 3 If then those, 
 who have completely renounced their earthly 
 and visible goods, cannot for sufficient rea- 
 son attain to Apostolic charity, nor climb with 
 readiness and vigour to that third stage of 
 renunciation which is still higher and belongs 
 to but few, what should those think of them- 
 selves, who do not even make that first step 
 (which is very easy) a thorough one, but 
 keep together with their old want of faith, 
 their former sordid riches, and fancy that 
 they can boast of the mere name of monks ? 
 The first renunciation then of which we spoke 
 is of what is not our own, and therefore is 
 not enough of itself to confer perfection on 
 the renunciant, unless he advances to the 
 second, which is really and truly a renunci- 
 ation of what belongs to us. And when we 
 have made sure of this by the expulsion of all 
 our faults, we shall mount to the heights of 
 the third renunciation also, whereby we rise 
 above not merely all those things which are 
 done in this world or specially belong to men, 
 but even that whole universe around us which 
 is esteemed so glorious, and shall with heart 
 and soul look down upon it as subject to 
 vanity and destined soon to pass away; as we 
 look, as the Apostle says, "not on those 
 things which are seen, but on those which are 
 not seen : for the things that are seen, are 
 temporal, and the things which are not seen 
 are eternal;" 4 that so we may be found 
 worthy to hear that highest utterance, which 
 was spoken to Abraham: "and come into a 
 land which I will show thee," 5 which clearly 
 shows that unless a man has made those 
 three former renunciations with all earnest- 
 
 1 The MSS. vary between visibilibus and invisibilibus. 
 
 2 S. Matt. xix. 27. 
 
 3 lb. ver. 28. 
 
 4 2 Cor. iv. iS. 
 
 5 Gen. xii. 1. 
 
 ness of mind, he cannot attain to this fourth, 
 which is granted as a reward and privilege to 
 one whose renunciation is perfect, that he 
 may be found worthy to enter the land of 
 promise which no longer bears for him the 
 thorns and thistles of sins; which after all 
 the passions have been driven out is acquired 
 by purity of heart even in the body, and 
 which no good deeds or exertions of man's 
 efforts (can gain), but which the Lord Himself 
 promises to show, saying "And come into 
 the land which I will show to thee: " which 
 clearly proves that the beginning of our sal- 
 vation results from the call of the Lord, Who 
 says "Get thee out from thy country," and 
 that the completion of perfection and purity 
 is His gift in the same way, as He says 
 "And come into the land which I will show 
 thee," i.e., not one you yourself can know or 
 discover by your own efforts, but one which I 
 will show not only to one who is ignorant of 
 it, but even to one who is not looking for it. 
 And from this we clearly gather that as we 
 hasten to the way of salvation through being 
 stirred up by the inspiration of the Lord, so 
 too it is under the guidance of His direction 
 and illumination that we attain to the perfec- 
 tion of the highest bliss. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 A question on the free will of man and the grace of God. 
 
 Germanus : Where then is there room for 
 free will, and how is it ascribed to our efforts 
 that we are worthy of praise, if God both 
 begins and ends everything in us which con- 
 cerns our salvation? 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The answer on the economy of Divine Grace, with free will still 
 remaining in us. 
 
 Paphnutius: This would fairly influence 
 us, if in every work and practice, the begin- 
 ning and the end were everything, and there 
 were no middle in between. And so as we 
 know that God creates opportunities of salva- 
 tion in various ways, it is in our power to 
 make use of the opportunities granted to us 
 by heaven more or less earnestly. For just as 
 the offer came from God Who called him " get 
 thee out of thy country," so the obedience 
 was on the part of Abraham who went forth ; 
 and as the fact that the saying " Come into the 
 land" was carried into action, was the work 
 of him who obeyed, so the addition of the 
 
326 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 words " which I will show thee" came from 
 the grace of God Who commanded or prom- 
 ised it. But it is well for us to be sure that 
 although we practise every virtue with unceas- 
 ing efforts, yet with all our exertions and zeal 
 we can never arrive at perfection, nor is mere 
 human diligence and toil of itself sufficient to 
 deserve to reach the splendid reward of bliss, 
 unless we have secured it by means of the 
 co-operation of the Lord, and His directing 
 our heart to what is right. And so we ought 
 every moment to pray and say with David 
 " Order my steps in thy paths that my foot- 
 steps slip not: " l and " He hath set my feet 
 upon a rock and ordered my goings: " 2 that 
 He Who is the unseen ruler of the human 
 heart may vouchsafe to turn to the desire of 
 virtue that will of ours, which is more readily 
 inclined to vice either through want of know- 
 ledge of what is good, or through the delights 
 of passion. And we read this in a verse in 
 which the prophet sings very plainly: " Being 
 pushed I was overturned that I might fall," 
 where the weakness of our free will is shown. 
 And " the Lord sustained me:" 3 again this 
 shows that the Lord's help is always joined to 
 it, and by this, that we may not be altogether 
 destroyed by our free will, when He sees 
 that we have stumbled, He sustains and sup- 
 ports us, as it were by stretching out His 
 hand. And again: " If I said my foot was 
 moved;" viz., from the slippery character of 
 the will, "Thy mercy, O Lord, helped me. " 4 
 Once more he joins on the help of God to his 
 own weakness, as he confesses that it was not 
 owing to his own efforts but to the mercy of 
 God, that the foot of his faith was not moved. 
 And again : "According to the multitude of the 
 sorrows which I had in my heart, " which sprang 
 most certainly from my free will, " Thy com- 
 forts have refreshed my soul, " 5 i.e., by coming 
 through Thy inspiration into my heart, and 
 laying open the view of future blessings which 
 Thou hast prepared for them Avho labour in 
 Thy name, they not only removed all anxiety 
 from my heart, but actually conferred upon it 
 the greatest delight. And again: "Had it not 
 been that the Lord helped me, my soul had 
 almost dwelt in hell." 6 He certainly shows 
 that through the depravity of this free will he 
 would have dwelt in hell, had he not been saved 
 by the assistance and protection of the Lord. 
 For "By the Lord," and not by free-will, 
 " are a man's steps directed," and " although 
 the righteous fall " at least by free will, "he 
 shall not be cast away." And why? because 
 
 1 Ps. xvi. (xvii.) 5. 
 
 2 Ps. xxxix. (xl.) 3. 
 
 B Ps.cxvii. (cxviii.) 13. 
 
 4 Ps. xciii. (xciv.) 18. 
 6 lb. ver. 19. 
 6 lb. ver. 17. 
 
 "the Lord upholdeth him with His hand: " 7 
 and this is to say with the utmost clearness : 
 None of the righteous are sufficient of them- 
 selves to acquire righteousness, unless every 
 moment when they stumble and fall the 
 Divine mercy supports them with His hands, 
 that they may not utterly collapse and perish, 
 when they have been cast down through the 
 weakness of free will. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 That the ordering of our way comes from God. 
 
 And truly the saints have never said that 
 it was by their own efforts that they secured 
 the direction of the way in which they walked 
 in their course towards advance and perfection 
 of virtue, but rather they prayed for it from 
 the Lord, saying " Direct me in Thy truth," 
 and "direct my way in thy sight." 8 But 
 someone else declares that he discovered this 
 very fact not only by faith, but also by experi- 
 ence, and as it were from the very nature of 
 things : " I know, O Lord, that the way of man 
 is not his: neither is it in a man to walk 
 and to direct his steps." 9 And the Lord 
 Himself says to Israel: "I will direct him 
 like a green fir-tree: from Me is thy fruit 
 found." 10 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 That knowledge of the law is given by the guidance and illu- 
 mination of the Lord. 
 
 The knowledge also of the law itself they 
 daily endeavour to gain not by diligence in 
 reading, but by the guidance and illumination 
 of God as they say to Him: " Show me Thy 
 ways, O Lord, and teach me Thy paths : ' ' and 
 "open Thou mine eyes: and I shall see the 
 wondrous things of Thy law : " and " teach me 
 to do Thy will, for Thou art my God; " and 
 again : " Who teacheth man knowledge. " n 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 That the understanding, by means of which we can recognize 
 God's commands, and the performance of a good will are 
 both gifts from the Lord. 
 
 Further the blessed David asks of the 
 Lord that he may gain that very understand- 
 ing, by which he can recognize God's com- 
 
 7 Ps. xxxvi. (xxxvii.) 23, 24. 9 Jer. x. 23. 
 
 8 Ps. xxiv. (xxv.) 5 ; vi. 9. w Hos. xiv. 9. 
 
 11 Ps. xxiv. (xxv.) 4 ; cxviii. (cxix.) iS; cxlii. (cxliii.) 10; xciii. 
 (xciv.) 10. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PAPHNUTIUS. 
 
 3 2 7 
 
 mands which, he well knew, were written in 
 the book of the law, and he says " I am Thy 
 servant: O give me understanding that I may 
 learn Thy commandments." 1 Certainly he 
 was in possession of understanding, which had 
 been granted to him by nature, and also had 
 at his fingers' ends a knowledge of God's com- 
 mands which were preserved in writing in the 
 law: and still he prayed the Lord that he 
 might learn this more thoroughly as he knew 
 that what came to him by nature would never 
 be sufficient for him, unless his understand- 
 ing was enlightened by the Lord by a daily 
 illumination from Him, to understand the law 
 spiritually and to recognize His commands 
 more clearly, as the ''chosen vessel" also 
 declares very plainly this which we are insist- 
 ing on. " For it is God which worketh in 
 you both to will and to do according to good 
 will. " 2 What could well be clearer than the 
 assertion that both our good will and the 
 completion of our work are fully wrought in 
 us by the Lord ? And again " For it is granted 
 to you for Christ's sake, not only to believe 
 in Him but also to suffer for Him." 3 Here 
 also he declares that the beginning of our 
 conversion and faith, and the endurance of 
 suffering is a gift to us from the Lord. And 
 David too, as he knows this, similarly prays 
 that the same thing may be granted to him by 
 God's mercy. " Strengthen, O God, that 
 which Thou hast wrought in us : " 4 showing 
 that it is not enough for the beginning of our 
 salvation to be granted by the gift and grace of 
 God, unless it has been continued and ended 
 by the same pity and continual help from 
 Him. For not free will but the Lord 
 "looseth them that are bound. " No strength 
 of ours, but the Lord " raiseth them that 
 are fallen:" no diligence in reading, but 
 " the Lord enlightens the blind: " where the 
 Greeks have xvqlo; gocpol jucplov;, i.e., "the Lord 
 maketh wise the blind: " no care on our part, 
 but "the Lord careth for the stranger : " no 
 courage of ours, but "the Lord assists (or 
 supports) all those who are down. ' ' 5 But this 
 we say, not to slight our zeal and efforts and 
 diligence, as if they were applied unnecessa- 
 rily and foolishly, but that we may know that 
 we cannot strive without the help of God, nor 
 can our efforts be of any use in securing the 
 great reward of purity, unless it has been 
 granted to us by the assistance and mercy of 
 the Lord: for "a horse is prepared for the 
 day of battle: but help cometh from the 
 
 1 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 125. 3 Phil. i. 29. 
 
 8 Phil. ii. 13. * Ps. lxvii. (lxviii.) 29. 
 
 5 Ps. cxlv. (cxlvi.) 7, 8, 9; cxliv. (cxlv.) 16. 
 
 Lord, " 6 " for no man can prevail by strength. ' ' 7 
 We ought then always to sing with the blessed 
 David: "My strength and my praise is " not 
 my free will, but "the Lord, and He is 
 become my salvation." 8 And the teacher of 
 the Gentiles was not ignorant of this when he 
 declared that he was made capable of the 
 ministry of the New Testament not by his own 
 merits or efforts but by the mercy of God. 
 "Not," says he, "that we are capable of 
 thinking anything of ourselves as of our- 
 selves, but our sufficiency is of God," which 
 can be put in less good Latin but more for- 
 cibly, "our capability is of God," and then 
 there follows: "Who also made us capable 
 ministers of the New Testament." 9 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 That faith itself must bs given us by the Lord. 
 
 But so thoroughly did the Apostles realize 
 that everything which concerns salvation was 
 given them by the Lord, that they even asked 
 that faith itself should be granted from the 
 Lord, saying : ' ' Add to us faith " 10 as they did 
 not imagine that it could be gained by free 
 will, but believed that it would be bestowed 
 by the free gift of God. Lastly the Author of 
 man's salvation teaches us how feeble and 
 weak and insufficient our faith would be un- 
 less it were strengthened by the aid of the 
 Lord, when He says to Peter " Simon, Simon, 
 behold Satan hath desired to have you that 
 he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed 
 to my Father that thy faith fail not. " n And 
 another finding that this was happening in 
 his own case, and seeing that his faith was 
 being driven by the waves of unbelief on the 
 rocks which would cause a fearful shipwreck, 
 asks of the same Lord an aid to his faith, 
 saying "Lord, help mine unbelief." 12 So 
 thoroughly then did those Apostles and men in 
 the gospel realize that everything which is 
 good is brought to perfection by the aid of 
 the Lord, and not imagine that they could 
 preserve their faith unharmed by their own 
 strength or free will that they prayed that it 
 might be helped or granted to them by the 
 Lord. And if in Peter's case there was need 
 of the Lord's help that it might not fail, who 
 will be so presumptuous and blind as to fancy 
 that he has no need of daily assistance from 
 the Lord in order to preserve it ? Especially 
 
 6 Prov. xxi. 31. 
 
 7 1 Sam. ii. 9. 
 
 8 Ps. cxvii. .(cxviii.) 14. 
 
 9 2 Cor. iii. 5, 6. 
 
 10 S. Luke xvii. 5. 
 
 11 S. Luke xxii. 31, 32. 
 " S. Mark ix. 23. 
 
328 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 as the Lord Himself has made this clear in 
 the gospel, saying: " As the branch cannot 
 bear fruit of itself except it abide in the vine, 
 so no more can ye, except ye abide in me. ' ' l 
 And again: "for without me ye can do no- 
 thing. ' ' 2 How foolish and wicked then it is to 
 attribute any good action to our own diligence 
 and not to God's grace and assistance, is 
 clearly shown by the Lord's saying, which 
 lays down that no one can show forth the 
 fruits of the Spirit without His inspiration and 
 co-operation. For " every good gift and every 
 perfect boon is from above, coming down 
 from the Father of lights." 3 And Zechariah 
 too says, "For whatever is good is His, and 
 what is excellent is from Him." 4 And so 
 the blessed Apostle consistently says : " What 
 hast thou which thou didst not receive ? But 
 if thou didst receive it, why boastest thou as if 
 thou hadst not received it? " 5 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 That temperateness and the endurance of temptations must be 
 given to us by the Lord. 
 
 And that all the endurance, with which we 
 can bear the temptations brought upon us, 
 depends not so much on our own strength as 
 on the mercy and guidance of God, the blessed 
 Apostle thus declares: " No temptation hath 
 come upon you but such as is common to man. 
 But God is faithful, who will not suffer you 
 to be tempted above that ye are able, but 
 will with the temptation make also a way of 
 escape, that ye may be able to bear it. " 6 And 
 that God fits and strengthens our souls for 
 every good work, and worketh in us all those 
 things which are pleasing to Him, the same 
 Apostle teaches : " May the God of peace who 
 brought out of darkness the great Shepherd 
 of the sheep, Jesus Christ, in the blood of 
 the everlasting Testament, fit you in all good- 
 ness, working in you what is well-pleasing 
 in His sight. " 7 And that the same thing may 
 happen to the Thessalonians he prays as fol- 
 lows, saying: "Now our Lord Jesus Christ 
 Himself and God our Father who hath loved 
 us and hath given us everlasting consolation 
 and good hope in grace, exhort your hearts, 
 and confirm you in every good word and 
 work. ' ' 8 
 
 1 S. John xv. 4. 
 
 2 lb. ver. 5. 
 
 8 S. James i. 17. 
 
 * Zech. ix. 17 (LXX.). 
 
 5 1 Cor. iv. 7. 
 
 6 1 Cor. x. 13. 
 
 7 Heb. xiii. 20, 21. 
 
 8 2 Thess. ii. 15, 16. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 That the continual fear of God must be bestowed on us by the 
 Lord. 
 
 And lastly the prophet Jeremiah, speaking 
 in the person of God, clearly testifies that 
 even the fear of God, by which we can hold 
 fast to Him, is shed upon us by the Lord: 
 saying as follows: "And I will give them one 
 heart, and one way, that they may fear Me all 
 days : and that it may be well with them and 
 with their children after them. And I will 
 make an everlasting covenant with them and 
 will not cease to do them good : and I will 
 give My fear in their hearts that they may not 
 revolt from Me. " 9 Ezekiel also says : " And 
 I will give them one heart, and will put a new 
 spirit in their bowels: and I will take away 
 the stony heart out of their flesh and will 
 give them a heart of flesh: that they may 
 walk in My commandments, and keep My 
 judgments and do them : and that they may 
 be My people, and I may be their God. " ao 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 That the beginning of our goodwill and its completion comes 
 from God. 
 
 And this plainly teaches us that the begin- 
 ning of our good will is given to us by the 
 inspiration of the Lord, when He draws us 
 towards the way of salvation either by His 
 own act, or by the exhortations of some man, 
 or by compulsion; and that the consumma- 
 tion of our good deeds is granted by Him in 
 the same way: but that it is in our own 
 power to follow up the encouragement and 
 assistance of God with more or less zeal, and 
 that accordingly we are rightly visited either 
 with reward or with punishment, because we 
 have been either careless or careful to corre- 
 spond to His design and providential arrange- 
 ment made for us with such kindly regard. 
 And this is clearly and plainly described in 
 Deuteronomy. "When," says he, " the Lord 
 thy God shall have brought thee into the land 
 which thou art going to possess, and shall have 
 destroyed many nations before thee, the Hit- 
 tite, and the Gergeshite, and the Amorite, the 
 Canaanite, and the Perizzite, the Hivite, and 
 the Jebusite, seven nations much more num- 
 erous than thou art and stronger than thou, 
 and the Lord thy God shall have delivered 
 them to thee, thou shalt utterly destroy them. 
 
 9 Jerem. xxxii. 39, 40. 
 
 Ezek. xi. 19, 20. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PAPHNUTIUS. 
 
 329 
 
 Thou shalt make no league with them. 
 Neither shalt thou make marriage with 
 them." 1 So then Scripture declares that it 
 is the free gift of God that they are brought 
 into the land of promise, that many nations 
 are destroyed before them, that nations more 
 numerous and mightier than the people of 
 Israel are given up into their hands. But 
 whether Israel utterly destroys them, or 
 whether it preserves them alive and spares 
 them, and whether or no it makes a league 
 with them, and makes marriages with them or 
 not, it' declares lies in their own power. And 
 by this testimony we can clearly see what we 
 ought to ascribe to free will, and what to the 
 design and daily assistance of the Lord, and 
 that it belongs to divine grace to give us op- 
 portunities of salvation and prosperous under- 
 takings and victory: but that it is ours to 
 follow up the blessings which God gives us 
 with earnestness or indifference. And this 
 same fact we see is plainly taught in the 
 healing of the blind men. For the fact that 
 Jesus passed by them, was a free gift of 
 Divine providence and condescension. But 
 the fact that they cried out and said " Have 
 mercy on us, Lord, thou son of David," 2 was 
 an act of their own faith and belief. That 
 they received the sight of their eyes was a gift 
 of Divine pity. But that after the reception 
 of any blessing, the grace of God, and the 
 use of free will both remain, the case of the 
 ten lepers, who were all healed alike, shows 
 us. For when one of them through goodness 
 of will returned thanks, the Lord looking for 
 the nine, and praising the one, showed that 
 He was ever anxious to help even those who 
 were unmindful of His kindness. For even 
 this is a gift of His visitation; viz., that he 
 receives and commends the grateful one, and 
 looks for and censures those who are thank- 
 less. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 That nothing can be done in this world without God. 
 
 But it is right for us to hold with unswer- 
 ving faith that nothing whatever is done in 
 this world without God. For we must ac- 
 knowledge that everything is done either by 
 His will or by His permission, i.e., we must 
 believe that whatever is good is carried out by 
 the will of God and by His aid, and whatever 
 is the reverse is done by His permission, 
 when the Divine Protection is withdrawn from 
 us for our sins and the hardness of our hearts, 
 and suffers the devil and the shameful passions 
 
 1 Deut. vii. 1-3. 
 
 2 S. Matt. xx. 31. 
 
 of the body to lord it over us. And the words 
 of the Apostle most assuredly teach us this, 
 when he says: "For this cause God delivered 
 them up to shameful passions:" and again: 
 "Because they did not like to have God in 
 their knowledge, God delivered them up to 
 a reprobate sense, to do those things which 
 are not convenient. " 3 And the Lord Himself 
 says by the prophet: "But My people did not 
 hear My voice and Israel did not obey me : 
 Wherefore I gave them up unto their own 
 hearts' lusts. They shall walk after their 
 own inventions." 4 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 An objection on the power of free will. 
 
 Germanus: This passage very clearly 
 shows the freedom of the will, where it is 
 said " If My people would have hearkened 
 unto Me," and elsewhere "But My people 
 would not hear My voice." 5 For when He 
 says "If they would have heard" He shows 
 that the decision to yield or not to yield lay 
 in their own power. How then is it true that 
 our salvation does not depend upon ourselves, 
 if God Himself has given us the power either 
 to hearken or not to hearken ? 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 The answer; viz., that our free will always has need of the 
 help of the Lord. 
 
 Paphnutius : You have shrewdly enough 
 noticed how it is said "If they would have 
 hearkened to Me : " but have not sufficiently 
 considered either who it is who speaks to one 
 who does or does not hearken ; or what fol- 
 lows : " I should soon have put down their 
 enemies, and laid My hand on those that 
 trouble them." 6 Let no one then try by a 
 false interpretation to twist that which we 
 brought forward to prove that nothing can be 
 done without the Lord, nor take it in support 
 of free will, in such a way as to try to take 
 away from man the grace of God and His 
 daily oversight, through this test: "But My 
 people did not hear My voice," and again: 
 "If My people would have hearkened unto 
 Me, and if Israel would have walked in My 
 ways, etc. : " but let him consider that just 
 as the power of free will is evidenced by the 
 disobedience of the people, so the daily over- 
 
 3 Rom. i. 26, 28. 
 
 * Ps. Ixxx. (lxxxi.) 12, 13. 
 
 B Ps. Ixxx. (lxxxi.) 12, 13. 
 lb. ver. 15. 
 
33° 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 sight of God who declares and admonishes 
 him is also shown. For where He says " If 
 My people would have hearkened unto Me " 
 He clearly implies that He had spoken to 
 them before. And this the Lord was wont to 
 do not only by means of the written law, but 
 also by daily exhortations, as this which is 
 given by Isaiah: "All day long have I 
 stretched forth My hands to a disobedient 
 and gain-saying people." 1 Both points then 
 can be supported from this passage, where it 
 says: "If My people would have hearkened, 
 and if Israel had walked in My ways, I should 
 soon have put down their enemies, and laid 
 My hand on those that trouble them." For 
 just as free will is shown by the disobedience 
 of the people, so the government of God and 
 His assistance is made clear by the beginning 
 and end of the verse, where He implies that 
 He had spoken to them before, and that after- 
 wards He would put down their enemies, if 
 they would have hearkened unto Him. For 
 
 we have no wish to do away with man's free 
 will by what we have said, but only to estab- 
 lish the fact that the assistance and grace of 
 God are necessary to it every day and hour. 
 When he had instructed us with this dis- 
 course Abbot Paphnutius dismissed us from 
 his cell before midnight in a state of contri- 
 tion rather than of liveliness; insisting on 
 this as the chief lesson in his discourse; viz., 
 that when we fancied that by making perfect 
 the first renunciation (which we were en- 
 deavouring to do with all our powers), we could 
 climb the heights of perfection, we should 
 ; make the discovery that we had not yet even 
 ! begun to dream of the heights to which a 
 | monk can rise, since after we had learnt some 
 I few things about the second renunciation, we 
 I should find out that we had not before this 
 ; even heard a word of the third stage, in which 
 I all perfection is comprised, and which in 
 many ways far exceeds these lower ones. 
 
 IV. 
 CONFERENCE OF ABBOT DANIEL 
 
 ON THE LUST OF THE FLESH AND OF THE SPIRIT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Of the life of Abbot Daniel. 
 
 Among the other heroes of Christian phi- 
 losophy we also knew Abbot Daniel, who was 
 not only the equal of those who dwelt in the 
 desert of Scete in every sort of virtue, but was 
 specially marked by the grace of humility. 
 This man on account of his purity and gentle- 
 ness, though in age the junior of most, was 
 preferred to the office of the diaconate by the 
 blessed Paphnutius, presbyter in the same 
 desert: for the blessed Paphnutius was so de- 
 lighted with his excellent qualities, that, as 
 he knew that he was his equal in virtue and 
 grace of life, he was anxious also to make 
 him his equal in the order of the priesthood. 
 And since he could not bear that he should 
 remain any longer in an inferior office, and 
 was also anxious to provide a worthy succes- 
 sor to himself in his lifetime, he promoted him 
 to the dignity of the priesthood. 2 He how- 
 
 ever relinquished nothing of his former cus- 
 tomary humility, and when the other was 
 present, never took upon himself anything 
 from his advance to a higher order, but when 
 Abbot Paphnutius was offering spiritual sac- 
 rifices, ever continued to act as a deacon in 
 the office of his former ministry. However, 
 the blessed Paphnutius though so great a 
 saint as to possess the grace of foreknowledge, 
 in many matters, yet in this case was dis- 
 appointed of his hope of the succession and 
 the choice he had made, for he himself passed 
 to God no long time after him whom he had 
 prepared as his 'successor. 
 
 1 IS. lxV. 2. 
 
 2 Nothing further appears to be known of Daniel than what is 
 
 here told us by Cassian. There has been some discussion as to th; 
 action of Paphnutius in having him raised to the priesi hood, as Cas- 
 sian here narrates. Was Paphnutius reaily a bishop, or is it a case 
 of presbyterian orders, or do Cassian's expressions merely mean 
 that Paphnutius procured his ordination first to the Piaconate and 
 then to the Priesthood ? Probably the latter, for (i) all the evidence 
 goes to show that presbyters had not the power of ordination ; and 
 (2 Uhere are many instances, in which it is said even of the laity that 
 they " ordained " men to the ministry when all that can possibly be 
 meant is that they " procured their ordination: " further (3) it will 
 be noticed that it is not even said that Paphnutius ordained Daniel, 
 but merely that he " promoted " him to the priesthood : an expression 
 which might equally well be used of nomination as of actual ordina- 
 tion. See the subject discussed in Bingham's Antiquities, Book 
 II. c. iii. § 7, and C. Gore's " Church and the Ministry," p. 374. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT DANIEL. 
 
 oo 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 An investigation of the origin of a sudden change of feeling 
 from inexpressible joy to extreme dejection of mind. 
 
 So then we asked this blessed Daniel why 
 it was that as we sat in the cells we were some- 
 times filled with the utmost gladness of heart, 
 together with inexpressible delight and abun- 
 dance of the holiest feelings, so that I will not 
 say speech, but even feeling could not follow it, 
 and pure prayers were readily breathed, and the 
 mind being filled with spiritual fruits, pray- 
 ing to God even in sleep could feel that its 
 petitions rose lightly and powerfully to God : 
 and again, why it was that for no reason we 
 were suddenly filled with the utmost grief, and 
 weighed down with unreasonable depression, 
 so that we not only felt as if we ourselves were 
 overcome with such feelings, but also our cell 
 grew dreadful, reading palled upon us, aye 
 and our very prayers were offered up un- 
 steadily and vaguely, and almost as if we 
 were intoxicated: so that while we were 
 groaning and endeavouring to restore our- 
 selves to our former disposition, our mind 
 was unable to do this, and the more earnestly 
 it sought to fix again its gaze upon God, so 
 was it the more vehemently carried away to 
 wandering thoughts by shifting aberrations 
 and so utterly deprived of all spiritual fruits, 
 as not to be capable of being roused from this 
 deadly slumber even by the desire of the 
 kingdom of heaven, or by the fear of hell 
 held out to it. To this he replied. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 His answer to the question raised. 
 
 A threefold account of this mental dry- 
 ness of which you speak has been given by 
 the Elders. For it comes either from care- 
 lessness on our part, or from the assaults of 
 the devil, or from the permission and allow- 
 ance of the Lord. From carelessness on our 
 part, when through our own faults, coldness 
 has come upon us, and we have behaved care- 
 lessly and hastily, and owing to slothful idle- 
 ness have fed on bad thoughts, and so make 
 the ground of our heart bring forth thorns and 
 thistles; which spring up in it, and conse- 
 quently make us sterile, and powerless as 
 regards all spiritual fruit and meditation. 
 From the assaults of the devil when, some- 
 times, while we are actually intent on good 
 desires, our enemy with crafty subtilty makes 
 his way into our heart, and without our know- 
 ledge and against our will we are drawn away 
 from the best intentions. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 How there is a twofold reason for the permission and allov 
 ance of God. 
 
 But for God's permission and allowance 
 there is a twofold reason. First, that being 
 for a short time forsaken by the Lord, and 
 observing with all humility the weakness of 
 our own heart, we may not be puffed up on 
 account of the previous purity of heart, 
 granted to us by His visitation; and that by 
 proving that when we are forsaken by Him 
 we cannot possibly recover our former state 
 of purity and delight by any groanings and 
 efforts of our own, we may also learn that our 
 previous gladness of heart resulted not from 
 our own earnestness but from His gift, and 
 that for the present time it must be sought 
 once more from His grace and enlightenment. 
 But a second reason for this allowance, is to 
 prove our perseverance, and steadfastness of 
 mind, and real desires, and to show in us, 
 with what purpose of heart, or earnestness 
 in prayer we seek for the return of the Holy 
 Spirit, when He leaves us, and also in order that 
 when we discover with what efforts we must 
 seek'for that spiritual gladness — when once it 
 is lost — and the joy of purity, we may learn 
 to preserve it more carefully, when once it 
 is secured, and to hold it with firmer grasp. 
 For men are generally more careless about 
 keeping whatever they think can be easily 
 replaced. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 How our efforts and exertions are of no use without God'a 
 help. 
 
 And by this it is clearly shown that God's 
 grace and mercy always work in us what is 
 good, and that when it forsakes us, the efforts 
 of the worker are useless, and that however 
 earnestly a man may strive, he cannot regain 
 his former condition without His help, and 
 that this saying is constantly fulfilled in our 
 case: that it is "not of him that willeth or 
 runneth but of God which hath mercy. "* And 
 this grace on the other hand sometimes does 
 not refuse to visit with that holy inspiration 
 of which you spoke, and with an abundance of 
 spiritual thoughts, even the careless and in- 
 different; but inspires the unworthy, arouses 
 the slumberers, and enlightens those who are 
 blinded by ignorance, and mercifully reproves 
 us and chastens us, shedding itself abroad in 
 our hearts, that thus we may be stirred by the 
 compunction which He excites, and impelled 
 
 1 Rom. ix. 16. 
 
33^ 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 to rise from the sleep of sloth. Lastly we are 
 often filled by His sudden visitation with 
 sweet odours, beyond the power of human 
 composition — so that the soul is ravished 
 with these delights, and caught up, as it were, 
 into an ecstasy of spirit, and becomes oblivi- 
 ous of the fact that it is still in the flesh. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 How it is sometimes to our advantage to be left by God. 
 
 But the blessed David recognizes that 
 sometimes this departure of which we have 
 spoken, and (as it were) desertion by God may 
 be to some extent to our advantage, so that 
 he was unwilling to pray, not that he might 
 not be absolutely forsaken by God in any- 
 thing (for he was aware that this would have 
 been disadvantageous both to himself and to 
 human nature in its course towards perfec- 
 tion) but he rather entreated that it might be 
 in measure and degree, saying " Forsake me 
 not utterly" ' as if to say in other words: I 
 know that thou dost forsake thy saints to their 
 advantage, in order to prove them, for in no 
 other way could they be tempted by the devil, 
 unless they were for a little forsaken by Thee. 
 And therefore I ask not that Thou shouldest 
 never forsake me, for it would not be well for 
 me not to feel my weakness and say "It is 
 good for me that Thou hast brought me low " 2 
 nor to have no opportunity of fighting. And 
 this I certainly should not have, if the Divine 
 protection shielded me incessantly and un- 
 brokenly. For the devil will not dare to 
 attack me while supported by Thy defence, as 
 he brings both against me and Thee this 
 objection and complaint, which he ever slan- 
 derously brings against Thy champions, 
 "Does Job serve God for nought? Hast not 
 Thou made a fence for him and his house and 
 all his substance round about ? " 3 But I rather 
 entreat that Thou forsake me not utterly — 
 what the Greeks call ioag oyodga, i.e., too 
 much. For, first, as it is advantageous to me 
 for Thee to forsake me a little, that the stead- 
 fastness of my love may be tried, so it is 
 dangerous if Thou suffer me to be forsaken 
 excessively in proportion to my faults and 
 what I deserve, since no power of man, if in 
 temptation it is forsaken for too long a time by 
 Thine aid, can endure by its own steadfast- 
 ness, and not forthwith give in to the power of 
 the enemy's side, unless Thou Thyself, as Thou 
 knowest the strength of man, and moderatest 
 his struggles, " Suffer us not to be tempted 
 
 above that we are able, but makest with the 
 temptation a way of escape that we may be 
 able to bear it." 4 And something of this sort 
 we read in the book of Judges was mystically 
 designed in the matter of the extermination 
 of the spiritual nations which were opposed 
 to Israel: "These are the nations, which 
 the Lord left that by them He might instruct 
 Israel, that they might learn to fight with their 
 enemies," and again shortly after: "And the 
 Lord left them that He might try Israel by 
 them, whether they would hear the command- 
 ments of the Lord, which He had commanded 
 their fathers by the hand of Moses, or not." 6 
 And this conflict God reserved for Israel,' 
 not from envy of their peace, or from a wish 
 to hurt them, but because He knew that it 
 would be good for them that while they were 
 always oppressed by the attacks of those 
 nations they might not cease to feel them- 
 selves in need of the aid of the Lord, and for 
 this reason might ever continue to meditate 
 on Him and invoke His aid, and not grow 
 careless through lazy ease, and lose the habit 
 of resisting, and the practice of virtue. For 
 again and again, men whom adversity could 
 not overcome, have been cast down by free- 
 dom from care and by prosperity. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Of the value of the conflict which the Apostle makes to consist 
 in the strife between the flesh and the spirit. 
 
 This conflict too we read in the Apostle 
 has for our good been placed in our members : 
 "For the flesh lusteth against the spirit: and 
 the spirit against the flesh. But these two 
 are opposed to each other so that ye should 
 not do what ye would. ' ' 6 You have here too a 
 contest as it were implanted in our bodies, by 
 the action and arrangement of the Lord. 
 For when a thing exists in everybody univer- 
 sally and without the slightest exception, 
 what else can you think about it except that 
 it belongs to the substance of human nature, 
 since the fall of the first man, as it were 
 naturally: and when a thing is found to be 
 congenital with everybody, and to grow with 
 their growth, how can we help believing that it 
 was implanted by the will of the Lord, not to 
 injure them but to help them ? But the reason 
 of this conflict; viz., of flesh and spirit, he 
 tells us is this: " that ye should not do what 
 ye would. " And so, if we fulfil what God ar- 
 ranged that we should not fulfil, i.e., that we 
 should not do what we liked, how can we help 
 
 1 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 3. 
 
 lb. ver. 71. 
 
 Job i. 9, 10. 
 
 4 1 Cor. x. 13" 
 
 6 Judg. iii. 1-4. 
 
 6 Gal. v. 17. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT DANIEL. 
 
 >33 
 
 believing that it is bad for us? And this 
 conflict implanted in us by the arrangement 
 of the Creator is in a way useful to us, and 
 calls and urges us on to a higher state: and 
 if it ceased, most surely there would ensue 
 on the other hand a peace that is fraught 
 with danger. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A question, how it is that in the Apostle's chapter, after he 
 has spoken of the lusts of the flesh and spirit opposing one 
 another, he adds a third thing ; viz., man's will. 
 
 Germanus: Although some glimmer of the 
 sense now seems clear to us, yet as we cannot 
 thoroughly grasp the Apostle's meaning, we 
 want you to explain this more clearly to us. 
 For the existence of three things seems to be 
 indicated here : first, the struggle of the flesh 
 against the spirit, secondly the desire of the 
 spirit against the flesh, and thirdly our own 
 free will, which seems to be placed between 
 the two, and of which it is said: " Ye should 
 not do what ye will." And on this subject, 
 though as I said we can gather some hints, 
 from what you have explained of the meaning, 
 yet — since this conference gives the oppor- 
 tunity — we are anxious to have it more fully 
 explained to us. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The answer on the understanding of one who asks rightly. 
 
 Daniel: It belongs to the understanding 
 to discern the distinctions and the drift of 
 questions ; and it is a main part of knowledge 
 to understand how ignorant you are. Where- 
 fore it is said that "if a fool asks questions, 
 it will be accounted wisdom," 1 because, al- 
 though one who asks questions is ignorant of 
 the answer to the question raised, yet as he 
 wisely asks, and learns what he does not 
 know, this very fact will be counted as wisdom 
 in him, because he wisely discovers what he 
 was ignorant of. According then to this 
 division of yours, it seems that in this passage 
 the Apostle mentions three things, the lust of 
 the flesh against the spirit, and of the spirit 
 against the flesh, the mutual struggle of which 
 against each other appears to have this as its 
 cause and reason; viz., " that," says he, "we 
 should not do what we would." There 
 remains then a fourth case, which you have 
 overlooked; viz., that we should do what we 
 would not. Now then, we must first discover 
 
 1 Prov. xvii. 28. (LXX.). 
 
 the meaning of those two desires, i.e., of the 
 flesh and spirit, and so next learn to discuss 
 our free will, which is placed between the 
 two, and then lastly in the same way we can 
 see what cannot belong to our free will. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 That the word flesh is not used with one single meaning only. 
 
 We find that the word flesh is used in holy 
 Scripture with many different meanings : for 
 sometimes it stands for the whole man, i.e., 
 for that which consists of body and soul, as 
 here "And the Word was made flesh," 2 and 
 "All flesh shall see the salvation of our God. ' ' 3 
 Sometimes it stands for sinful and carnal 
 men, as here "My spirit shall not remain in 
 those men, because they are flesh." 4 Some- 
 times it is used for sins themselves, as here : 
 "But ye are not in the flesh but in the spirit, " h 
 and again "Flesh and blood shall not inherit 
 the kingdom of God:" lastly there follows, 
 " Neither shall corruption inherit incorrup- 
 tion. " 6 Sometimes it stands for consanguin- 
 ity and relationship, as here: "Behold we are 
 thy bone and thy flesh," 7 and the Apostle 
 says : "If by any means I may provoke to emu- 
 lation them who are my flesh, and save some 
 of them." 8 We must therefore inquire in 
 which of these four meanings we ought to 
 take the word flesh in this place, for it is 
 clear that it cannot possibly stand as in the 
 passage where it is said " The Word was made 
 flesh," and "All flesh shall see the salvation 
 of God. ' ' Neither can it have the same mean- 
 ing as where it is said " My Spirit shall not 
 remain in those men because they are flesh," 
 because the word flesh is not used here as it is 
 there where it stands simply for a sinful man — 
 when he says " The flesh lusteth against the 
 spirit and the spirit against the flesh. ' ' 9 Nor 
 is he speaking of things material, but of real- 
 ities which in one and the same man struggle 
 either at the same time or separately, with 
 the shifting and changing of time. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 What the Apostle means by flesh in this passage, and what 
 the lust of the flesh is. 
 
 Wherefore in this passage we ought to 
 take " flesh " as meaning not man, i. e. , his ma- 
 
 s' S. John i. 14. 
 3 S. Luke iii. 6. 
 * (Jen. vi. 3. 
 6 Rom. viii. 9. 
 
 6 1 Cor. xv. 50. 
 
 7 2 Sam. v. 1. 
 
 8 Rom. xi. 14. 
 
 9 Gal. v. 17. 
 
334 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 terial substance, but the carnal will and evil 
 desires, just as " spirit " does not mean any- 
 thing material, but the good and spiritual 
 desires of the soul : a meaning which the 
 blessed Apostle has clearly given just before, 
 where he begins: "But I say, walk in the 
 spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the desires 
 of the flesh ; for the flesh lusteth against the 
 spirit and the spirit against the flesh : but 
 these are contrary the one to the other, that 
 ye may not do what ye would. " And since 
 these two; viz., the desires of the flesh and of 
 the spirit co-exist in one and the same man, 
 there arises an internal warfare daily carried 
 on within us, while the lust of the flesh which 
 rushes blindly towards sin, revels in those 
 delights which are connected with present 
 ease. And on the other hand the desire of 
 the spirit is opposed to these, and wishes to 
 be entirely absorbed in spiritual efforts, so 
 that it actually wants to be rid of even the 
 necessary uses of the flesh, longing to be so 
 constantly taken up with these things as to 
 desire to have no share of anxiety about the 
 weakness of the flesh. The flesh delights in 
 wantonness and lust: the spirit does not even 
 tolerate natural desires. The one wants to 
 have plenty of sleep, and to be satiated with 
 food: the other is nourished with vigils and 
 fasting, so as to be unwilling even to admit 
 of sleep and food for the needful purposes 
 of life. The one longs to be enriched with 
 plenty of everything, the other is satisfied 
 even without the possession of a daily supply 
 of scanty food. The one seeks to look sleek 
 by means of baths, and to be surrounded every 
 day by crowds of flatterers, the other delights 
 in dirt and filth, and the solitude of the inac- 
 cessible desert, and dreads the approach of 
 all mortal men. The one lives on the esteem 
 and applause of men, the other glories in 
 injuries offered to it, and in persecutions. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 What is our free will, which stands in between the lust of the 
 flesh and the spirit. 
 
 Between these two desires then the free 
 will of the soul stands in an intermediate 
 position somewhat worthy of blame, and 
 neither delights in the excesses of sin, nor 
 acquiesces in the sorrows of virtue. Seeking 
 to restrain itself from carnal passions in such 
 a way as not nevertheless to be willing to 
 undergo the requisite suffering, and wanting 
 to secure bodily chastity without chastising 
 the flesh, and to acquire purity of heart with- 
 out the exertion of vigils, and to abound in 
 
 spiritual virtues together with carnal ease, 
 and to attain the grace of patience without the 
 irritation of contradiction, and to practise the 
 humility of Christ without the loss of worldly 
 honour, to aim at the simplicity of religion in 
 conjunction with worldly ambition, to serve 
 Christ not without the praise and favour of 
 men, to profess the strictness which truth 
 demands without giving the slightest offence 
 to anybody : in a word, it is anxious to pursue 
 future blessings in such a way as not to lose 
 present ones. And this free will would never 
 lead us to attain true perfection, but would 
 plunge us into a most miserable condition of 
 lukewarmness, and make us like those who 
 are rebuked by the Lord's remonstrance in 
 the Apocalypse : "I know thy works, that thou 
 art neither hot nor cold. I would that thou 
 wert hot or cold. But now thou art luke- 
 warm, and I will forthwith spue thee out of 
 my mouth ;" x were it not that these conten- 
 tions which rise up on both sides disturb 
 and destroy this condition of lukewarmness. 
 For when we give in to this free will of ours 
 and want to let ourselves go in the direction 
 of this slackness, at once the desires of the 
 flesh start up, and injure us with their sinful 
 passions, and do not suffer us to continue in 
 that state of purity in which we delight, and 
 allure us to that cold and thorny path of 
 pleasure which we have to dread. Again, 
 if inflamed with fervour of spirit, we want to 
 root out the works of the flesh, and without 
 any regard to human weakness try to raise 
 ourselves altogether to excessive efforts aftei 
 virtue, the frailty of the flesh comes in, and 
 recalls us and restrains us from that over 
 excess of spirit which is bad for us : and so 
 the result is that as these two desires are 
 contradicting each other in a struggle of this 
 kind, the soul's free will, which does not like 
 either to give itself up entirely to carnal 
 desires, nor to throw itself into the exertions 
 which virtue calls for, is tempered as it were 
 by a fair balance, while this struggle between 
 the two hinders that more dangerous free will 
 of the soul, and makes a sort of equitable 
 balance in the scales of our body, which 
 marks out the limits of flesh and spirit most 
 accurately, and does not allow the mind in- 
 flamed with fervour of spirit to sway to the 
 right hand, nor the flesh to incline through 
 the pricks of sin, to the left. And while this 
 struggle goes on day after day in us to our 
 profit, we are driven most beneficially to 
 come to that fourth stage which we do not 
 like, so as to gain purity of heart not by ease 
 and carelessness, but by constant efforts and 
 
 1 Rev. iii. 15, 16. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT DANIEL. 
 
 oo 
 
 contrition of spirit; to retain our chastity of 
 the flesh by prolonged fastings, hunger, thirst, 
 and watchfulness; to acquire purpose of heart 
 by reading, vigils, constant prayer and the 
 wretchedness of solitude; to preserve patience 
 by the endurance of tribulation ; to serve our 
 Maker in the midst of blasphemies and 
 abounding insults ; to follow after truth if 
 need be amid the hatred of the world and its 
 enmity; and while, with such a struggle going 
 on in our body, we are secured from slothful 
 carelessness, and incited to that effort which 
 is against the grain, and to the desire for vir- 
 tue, our proper balance is admirably secured, 
 and on one side the languid choice of our 
 free will is tempered by fervour of spirit, 
 and on the other the frigid coldness of the 
 flesh is moderated by a gentle warmth, and 
 while the desire of the spirit does not allow 
 the mind to be dragged into unbridled 
 licence, neither does the weakness of the 
 flesh allow the spirit to be drawn on to un- 
 reasonable aspirations after holiness, lest in 
 the one case incentives to all kinds of sins 
 might arise, or in the other the earliest of all 
 sins might lift its head and wound us with a 
 yet more fatal dart of pride : but a due equi- 
 librium will result from this struggle, and 
 open to us a safe and secure path of virtue 
 between the two, and teach the soldier of 
 Christ ever to walk on the King's highway. 
 And thus the result will be that when, in con- 
 sequence of the lukewarmness arising from 
 this sluggish will of which we have spoken, 
 the mind has been more easily entangled in 
 carnal desires, it is checked by the desire of 
 the spirit, which by no means acquiesces in 
 earthly sins ; and again, if through over much 
 feeling our spirit has been carried in unbounded 
 fervour and towards ill-considered and im- 
 possible heights, it is recalled by the weak- 
 ness of the flesh to sounder considerations and 
 rising above the lukewarm condition of our 
 free will with due proportion and even course 
 proceeds along the way of perfection. Some- 
 thing of this sort we hear that the Lord 
 ordained in the case of the building of that 
 tower in the book of Genesis, where a confu- 
 sion of tongues suddenly sprang up, and put 
 a stop to the blasphemous and wicked attempts 
 of men. For there would have remained 
 there in opposition to God, aye and against 
 the interest of those who had begun to assail 
 His Divine Majesty, an agreement boding no 
 good, unless by God's providence the dif- 
 ference of languages, raising disturbances 
 among them, had forced them because of the 
 variations of their words to go on to a better 
 condition, and a happy and valuable discord 
 had recalled to salvation those whom a ruin- 
 
 ous union had driven to destruction, as when 
 divisions arose they began to experience 
 human weakness of which when puffed up by 
 their wicked plots they had hitherto known 
 nothing. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Oi the advantage of the delay which results from the struggle 
 between flesh and spirit. 
 
 But from the differences which this conflict 
 causes, there arises a delay that is so far 
 advantageous to us, and from this struggle an 
 adjournment that is for our good, so that 
 while through the resistance of the material 
 body we are hindered from carrying out 
 those things which we have wickedly con- 
 ceived with our minds, we are sometimes 
 recalled to a better mind either by penitence 
 springing up, or by some better thoughts which 
 usually come to us when delay in carrying 
 out things, and time for reflection intervene. 
 Lastly, those who, as we know, are not pre- 
 vented from carrying out the desires of their 
 free will by any hindrances of the flesh, I mean 
 devils and spiritual wickednesses, these, since 
 they have fallen from a higher and angelical 
 state, we see are in a worse plight than men, 
 in as much as (owing to the fact that oppor- 
 tunity is always present to gratify their de- 
 sires) they are not delayed from irrevocably 
 performing whatever' evil they have imagined 
 because as their mind is quick to conceive it, 
 so their substance is ready and free to carry 
 it out; and while a short and easy method is 
 given them of doing what they wish, no salu- 
 tary second thoughts come in to amend their 
 wicked intention. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Of the incurable depravity of spiritual wickednesses. 
 
 For a spiritual substance and one that is 
 not tied to any material flesh has no excuse 
 for an evil thought which arises within, and 
 also shuts out forgiveness for its sin, because 
 it is not harassed as we are by incentives of 
 the flesh without, to sin, but is simply in- 
 flamed by the fault of a perverse will. And 
 therefore its sin is without forgiveness and its 
 weakness without remedy. For as it falls 
 through the allurements of no earthly matter, 
 so it can find no pardon or place for repent- 
 ance. And from this we can clearly gather 
 that this struggle which arises in us of the 
 flesh and spirit against each other is not 
 merely harmless, but actually extremely use- 
 ful to us. 
 
336 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Of the value of the lust of the flesh against the spirit in our 
 case. 
 
 To begin with, because it is an immediate 
 reproof of our sloth and carelessness, and 
 like some energetic schoolmaster who never 
 allows us to deviate from the line of strict 
 discipline, and if our carelessness has ever 
 so little exceeded the limits of due gravity 
 which become it, it immediately excites us 
 by the stimulus of desire, and chides us and 
 recalls us to due moderation. Secondly, 
 because, in the matter of chastity and perfect 
 purity, when by God's grace we see that we 
 have been for some time kept from carnal pol- 
 lution, in order that we may not imagine that 
 we can no longer be disturbed by the motions 
 of the flesh and thereby be elated and puffed 
 up in our secret hearts as if we no longer bore 
 about the corruption of the flesh, it humbles 
 and checks us, and reminds us by its pricks 
 that we are but men. 1 For as we ordinarily 
 fall without much thought into other kinds of 
 sins and those worse and more harmful, and 
 are not so easily ashamed of committing them, 
 so in this particular one the conscience is 
 especially humbled, and by means of this 
 illusion it is stung by the recollection of pas- 
 sions that have been neglected, as it sees 
 clearly that it is rendered unclean by natural 
 emotions, of which it knew nothing while it 
 was still more unclean through spiritual sins; 
 and so coming back at once to the cure of its 
 former sluggishness, it is warned both that it 
 ought not to trust in the attainments of purity 
 in the past, which it sees to be lost by ever 
 so small a falling away from the Lord, and 
 also that it cannot attain the gift of this purity 
 except by God's grace alone, since actual ex- 
 perience somehow or other teaches us that if 
 we are anxious to reach abiding perfection of 
 heart we must constantly endeavour to obtain 
 the virtue of humility. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Of the excitements of the flesh, without the humiliation of 
 which we should fall more grievously. 
 
 To the fact then that the pride which 
 results from this purity would be more dan- 
 gerous than all sins and wickednesses, and that 
 we should on that account gain no reward for 
 any height of perfect chastity, we may call as 
 .witnesses those powers of which, we spoke 
 before, which since it is believed that they 
 
 Suo nos rursum qicamvis quieto ac simfilici visiians fluxu. 
 
 experience no such fleshly lusts, were cast 
 down from their high and heavenly estate in 
 everlasting destruction simply from pride of 
 heart. And so we should be altogether hope- 
 lessly lukewarm, since we should have no 
 warning of carelessness on our part implanted 
 either in our body or in our mind, nor should 
 we ever strive to reach the glow of perfection, 
 or even keep to strict frugality and abstinence, 
 were it not that this excitement of the flesh 
 springs up and humbles us and baffles us and 
 makes us keen and anxious about purifying 
 ourselves from spiritual sins. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Of the lukewarmness of eunuchs. 
 
 Lastly, on this account in those who are 
 Eunuchs, we often detect the existence of this 
 lukewarmness of mind, because, as they are 
 so to speak free from the needs of the flesh, 
 they fancy that they have no need either of 
 the trouble of bodily abstinence, or of contri- 
 tion of heart; and being rendered slack by 
 this freedom from anxiety, they make no 
 efforts either truly to seek or to acquire per- 
 fection of heart or even purity from spiritual 
 faults. And this condition which is the 
 result of their state in the flesh, becomes 
 natural, which is altogether a worse state. 
 For he who passes from the state of coldness 
 to that of lukewarmness is branded by the 
 Lord's words as still more hateful. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 The question what is the difference between the carnal and 
 natural man. 
 
 Germanus: You have, it seems to us, 
 very clearly shown the value of the struggle 
 which is raised between the flesh and spirit, 
 so that we can believe that it can in a sort 
 of way be grasped by us ; and therefore we 
 want to have this also explained to us in the 
 same way; viz., what is the difference between 
 the carnal and the natural man, or how the 
 natural man can be worse than the carnal. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The answer concerning the threefold condition of souis. 
 
 Daniel : There are, according to the state- 
 ments of Scripture, three kinds of souls ; the 
 first is the carnal, the second the natural, and 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT DANIEL. 
 
 -> 1 -7 
 
 03/ 
 
 the third the spiritual : which we find are thus 
 described by the Apostle. For of the carnal 
 he says : " I gave you milk to drink, not meat : 
 for you were not able as yet. But neither 
 indeed are you now able ; for you are yet car- 
 nal. " And again: "For whereas there is 
 among you envying and contention, are you 
 not carnal ?" x Concerning the natural he also 
 speaks as follows: "But the natural man per- 
 ceiveth not the things that are of the spirit of 
 God; for it is foolishness to him. " But con- 
 cerning the spiritual : "But the spiritual man 
 judgeth all things: and he himself is judged 
 by no man." 2 And again "You who are spi- 
 ritual instruct such ones in the spirit of meek- 
 ness. " 3 And so, though at our renunciation 
 we ceased to be carnal, i.e., we began to 
 separate ourselves from intercourse with those 
 in the world, and to have nothing to do with 
 open pollution of the flesh, we must still be 
 careful to strive with all our might to attain 
 forthwith a spiritual condition, lest haply we 
 natter ourselves because we seem as far as 
 the outer man is concerned to have renounced 
 this world and got rid of the defilement of 
 carnal fornication, as if by this we had 
 reached the heights of perfection ; and thence 
 become careless and indifferent about purify- 
 ing ourselves from other affections, and so 
 being kept back between these two, become un- 
 able to reach the stage of spiritual advance- 
 ment; either because we think that it . is 
 amply sufficient for our perfection if we seem 
 to separate ourselves, as regards the outward 
 man, from intercourse with this world and 
 from its pleasure, or because we are free from 
 corruption and carnal intercourse, and thus we 
 find ourselves in that lukewarm condition 
 which is considered the worst of all, and dis- 
 cover that we are spued out of the mouth of 
 the Lord, in accordance with these words of 
 His: " I would that thou wert hot or cold. 
 But now thou art lukewarm and I will begin 
 to spue thee out o*f My mouth. ' ' 4 And not 
 without good reason does the Lord declare 
 that those whom he has previously received in 
 the bowels of His love, and who have become 
 shamefully lukewarm, shall be spued out and 
 rejected from His bosom: in as much as, 
 though they might have yielded Him some 
 health-giving subsistence, they preferred to 
 be torn away from His heart: thus becoming 
 far worse than those who had never found 
 their way into the Lord's mouth as food, just 
 as we turn away with loathing from that 
 which nausea compels us to bring up. For 
 whatever is cold is warmed when received into 
 
 1 i Cor. iii. 2, 3. 
 
 2 1 Cor. ii. 14, 15. 
 
 3 Gal. vi. 
 
 4 Rev. iii. 
 
 ■5, 16. 
 
 the mouth and is received with satisfaction 
 and good results. But whatever has been 
 once rejected owing to its miserable luke- 
 warmness, we cannot — I will not say touch 
 with the lips — but even look on from a dis- 
 tance without the greatest disgust. Rightly 
 then is he said to be worse, because the carnal 
 man, i.e., the worldly man and the heathen, 
 is more readily brought to saving conversion 
 and to the heights of perfection than cne who 
 has been professed as a monk, but has not, as 
 his rule directs, laid hold on the way of per- 
 fection, and so has once for all drawn back 
 from that fire of spiritual fervour. For the 
 former is at last broken down by the sins of 
 the flesh, and acknowledges his uncleanness, 
 and in his compunction hastens from carnal 
 pollution to the fountain of true cleansing, and 
 the heights of perfection, and in his horror at 
 that cold state of infidelity in which he finds 
 himself, he is kindled with the fire of the 
 spirit and flies the more readily to perfection. 
 For one who has, as we said, once started with 
 a lukewarm beginning, and has begun to abuse 
 the name of monk, and who has not laid hold 
 on the way of this profession with the humil- 
 ity and fervour that he ought, when once he 
 is infected by this miserable plague, and is as 
 it were unstrung by it, can no longer of him- 
 self discern what is perfect nor learn from 
 the admonitions of another. For he says in 
 his heart that which the Lord tells us: 
 "Because I am rich and wealthy and want 
 nothing; " and so this which follows is at 
 once applied to him: " But thou art wretched, 
 and miserable, and poor, and blind, and 
 naked: " 5 and he is so far in a worse condi- 
 tion than a worldly man, because he has no 
 idea that he is wretched or blind or naked or 
 requires cleansing, or needs to be directed and 
 taught by any one; and on this account he 
 receives no sound advice as he does not 
 realise that he is weighted with the name of 
 monk, and is lowered in the judgment of all, 
 whereas, though everybody believes him to be 
 a saint and regards him as a servant of God, 
 he must hereafter be subjected to a stricter 
 judgment and punishment. Lastly, why 
 should we any longer linger over those things 
 which we have sufficiently discovered and 
 proved by experience? We have often seen 
 those who were cold and carnal, i.e., worldly 
 men and heathen, attain spiritual warmth : 
 but lukewarm and "natural" men never. And 
 these too we read in the prophet are hated of 
 the Lord, so that a charge is given to spiritual 
 and learned men to desist from warning and 
 teaching them, and not to sow the seed of the 
 
 8 Rev. iii. 17. 
 
338 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 life-giving word in ground that is barren and 
 unfruitful and choked by noxious thorns; but 
 that they should scorn this, and rather cul- 
 tivate fallow ground, i.e., that they should 
 transfer all their care and teaching, and their 
 zeal in the life-giving word to pagans and 
 worldly men: as we thus read: " Thus saith 
 the Lord to the men of Judah and inhabitants 
 of Jerusalem: break up your fallow ground, 
 and sow not among thorns. ' ' l 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Of those who renounce the world but ill. 
 
 In the last place I am ashamed to say how 
 we find that a large number have made their 
 renunciation in such a way that we find that 
 they have altered nothing of their former 
 sins and habits, but only their state of life 
 and worldly garb. For they are eager in 
 amassing wealth which they never had before, 
 or else do not give up that which they had, 
 or which is still sadder, they actually strive 
 to augment it under this excuse; viz., that 
 they assert that it is right that they should 
 always support with it their relations or the 
 brethren, or they hoard it under pretence of 
 starting congregations which they imagine 
 that they can preside over as Abbots. But 
 if only they would sincerely seek after the 
 way of perfection, they would rather en- 
 deavour with all their might and main to 
 attain to this: viz., that they might strip them- 
 selves not only of their wealth but of all their 
 former likings and occupations, and place 
 themselves unreservedly and entirely under 
 the guidance of the Elders so as to have no 
 anxiety not merely about others, but even 
 about themselves. But on the contrary we 
 find that while they are eager to be set over 
 their brethren, they are never subject to their 
 Elders themselves, and, with pride for their 
 starting point, while they are quite ready to 
 teach others they take no trouble to learn them- 
 selves or to practise what they are to teach : and 
 so it is sure to end in their becoming, as the 
 Saviour said, " blind leaders of the blind " so 
 that " both fall into the ditch. ' ' 2 And this pride 
 though there is only one kind of it, yet takes 
 a twofold form. One form continually puts 
 on the appearance of seriousness and gravity, 
 the other breaks out with unbridled freedom 
 into silly giggling and laughing. The former 
 delights in not talking: the latter thinks it 
 hard to be kept to the restraint of silence, 
 and has no scruples about talking freely on 
 
 1 Jerem. iv. 3. 
 
 - Ci. S. Matt. xv. 14. 
 
 matters that are unsuitable and foolish, while 
 it is ashamed to be thought inferior to or less 
 well informed than others. The one on ac- 
 count of pride seeks clerical office, the other 
 looks down upon it, since it fancies that it 
 is unsuitable or beneath its former dignity 
 and life and the deserts of its birth. And 
 which of these two should be accounted the 
 worse each man must consider and decide 
 for himself. At any rate the kind of disobe- 
 dience is one and the same, if a man breaks 
 the Elder's commands whether it be owing 
 to zeal in work, or to love of ease : and it is 
 as hurtful to upset the rules of the monastery 
 for the sake of sleep, as it is for the sake of 
 vigilance, and it is just the same to transgress 
 the Abbot's orders in order to read, as it is 
 to slight them in order to sleep : nor is there 
 any difference in the incentive to pride if you 
 neglect a brother, whether it is because of 
 your fast or because of your breakfast : except 
 that those faults which seem to show them- 
 selves under the guise of virtues and in the 
 form of spirituality are worse and less likely 
 to be cured than those which arise openly 
 and from carnal pleasures. For these latter, 
 like sicknesses which are perfectly plain and 
 visible, are grappled with and cured, while 
 the former, since they are covered under the 
 cloak of virtue, remain uncured, and cause 
 their victims to fall into a more dangerous 
 and deadly state of ill health. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Of those who having made light of great things busy them- 
 selves about trifles. 
 
 For how can we show how absurd it is that 
 we see that some men after their first enthu- 
 siasm of renunciation in which they forsook 
 their estates and vast wealth and the service 
 of the world, and betook themselves to the 
 monasteries, are still earnestly devoted to 
 those things which cannot altogether be cut 
 off, and which we cannot do without in this 
 state of life, even though they are small and 
 trifling things; so that in their case the 
 anxiety about these trifles is greater than 
 their love of all their property. And it cer- 
 tainly will not profit them much that they 
 have disregarded greater riches and property, 
 if they have only transferred their affections 
 (on account of which they were to make light 
 of them) to small and trifling things. For 
 the sin of covetousness and avarice of which 
 they cannot be guilty in the matter of really 
 valuable things, they retain with regard to 
 commoner matters, and so show that they have 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERAPION. 
 
 339 
 
 not got rid of their former greed but only 
 changed its object. For if they are too care- 
 ful about their mats, baskets, blankets, books, 
 and other trifles such as these, the same pas- 
 sion holds them captive as before. And they 
 actually guard and defend their rights over 
 them so jealously as to get angry with their 
 brethren about them, and, what' is worse, they 
 are not ashamed to quarrel over them. And 
 being still troubled by the bad effects of their 
 former covetousness, they are not content to 
 possess those things which the needs and 
 requirements of the body compel a monk to 
 have, according to the common number and 
 measure, but here too they show the greedi- 
 ness of their heart, as they try to have those 
 things which they are obliged to use, better 
 got up than the others; or, exceeding all due 
 bounds, keep as their special and peculiar 
 property and guard from the touch of others 
 
 that which ought to belong to all the brethren 
 alike. As if the difference of metals, and 
 not the passion of covetousness was what mat- 
 tered; and as if it was wrong to be angry 
 about big things, while one might innocently 
 be about trifling matters: and as if we had 
 not given up all our precious things just in 
 order that we might learn more readily to 
 think nothing about trifles! For what differ- 
 ence does it make whether one gives way to 
 covetousness in the matter of large and 
 splendid things, or in the matter of the merest 
 trifles, except that we ought to think a man 
 so far worse if he has made light of great 
 things and then is a slave to little things? 
 And so that sort of renunciation of the world 
 does not attain perfection of heart, because 
 though it ranks as poverty it still keeps the 
 mind of wealth. 
 
 V. 
 
 CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERAPION 
 
 ON THE EIGHT PRINCIPAL FAULTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Our arrival at Abbot Serapion's cell, and inquiry on the differ- 
 ent kinds of faults and the way to overcome them. 
 
 In that assembly of Ancients and Elders 
 was a man named Serapion, 1 especially en- 
 dowed with the grace of discretion, whose 
 Conference I think it is worth while to set 
 down in writing. For when we entreated 
 him to discourse of the way to overcome our 
 faults, so that their origin and cause might 
 be made clearer to us, he thus began. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Abbot Serapion's enumeration of eight principal faults. 
 
 There are eight principal faults which 
 attack mankind*; viz., first gastrimargia, 
 which means gluttony, secondly fornication, 
 
 1 Serapion when young was a pupil of Theonas, and an anecdote 
 of his youthful indulgence in good things in secret has been already 
 told in Conference II. c. xi. Another story of him is given in 
 XVI 1 1, xi. One of this name is mentioned by Palladius in the 
 Lausiac History, c. lxxvi., and by Rufinus in the History of the 
 Monks, c. xviii., where we are told that he lived at Arsinoe, and 
 that he had ten thousand monks subject to his rule ; a number 
 which Sozomen also gives (H. E.VI. xxviii.). It is, however, doubtful 
 whether this Serapion of Arsinoe is the person whose Confer- 
 ence Cassian here gives. Gazet identifies, Tillemont distinguishes 
 the two. Jerome, it should be noticed, speaks in Ep. cviii. (Epi- 
 taphium PauLx) as if there was not only one of this name famous 
 among the monks of Egypt at that time. 
 
 thirdly philargyria, i.e., avarice or the love 
 of money, fourthly anger, fifthly dejection, 
 sixthly acedia, i.e., listlessness or low spirits, 
 seventhly cenodoxia, i.e., boasting or vain 
 glory, and eighthly pride. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Of the two classes of faults and their fourfold manner of acting 
 on us. 
 
 Of these faults then there are two classes. 
 For they are either natural to us as gluttony, 
 or arise outside of nature as covetousness. 
 But their manner of acting on us is fourfold. 
 For some cannot be consummated without an 
 act on the part of the flesh, as gluttony and 
 fornication, while some can be completed 
 without any bodily act, as pride and vainglory. 
 Some find the reasons for their being excited 
 outside us, as covetousness and anger; others 
 are aroused by internal feelings, as accidie 2 
 and dejection. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A review of the passions of gluttony and fornication and their 
 remedies. 
 
 And to make this clearer not only by a short 
 discussion to the best of my ability, but by 
 
 2 For this word see the note on the Institutes V. i. 
 
140 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 Scripture proof as well, gluttony and fornica- 
 tion, though they exist in us naturally (for 
 sometimes they spring up without any incite- 
 ment from the mind, and simply at the motion 
 and allurement of the flesh) yet if they are to 
 be consummated, must find an external object, 
 and thus take effect only through bodily acts. 
 For " every man is tempted of his own lust. 
 Then lust when it has conceived beareth sin, 
 and sin when it is consummated begets 
 death. " x For the first Adam could not have 
 fallen a victim to gluttony unless he had had 
 material food at hand, and had used it 
 wrongly, nor could the second Adam be 
 tempted without the enticement of some 
 object, when it was said to Him: "If Thou 
 art the Son of God, command that these 
 stones be made bread." 2 And it is clear to 
 everybody that fornication also is only com- 
 pleted by a bodily act, as God -says of this 
 spirit to the blessed Job : " And his force is in 
 his loins, and his strength in the navel of his 
 belly." 8 And so these two faults in partieri- 
 lar, which are carried into effect by the aid 
 of the flesh, especially require bodily absti- 
 nence as well as spiritual care of the soul ; 
 since the determination of the mind is not in 
 itself enough to resist their attacks (as is 
 sometimes the case with anger or gloominess 
 or the other passions, which an effort of the 
 mind alone can overcome without any morti- 
 fication of the flesh) ; but bodily chastisement 
 must be used as well, and be carried out by 
 means of fasting and vigils and acts of con- 
 trition ; and to this must be added change of 
 scene, because since these sins are the results 
 of faults of both mind and body, so they can 
 only be overcome by the united efforts of both. 
 And although the blessed Apostle says gener- 
 ally that all faults are carnal, since he enumer- 
 ates enmities and anger and heresies among 
 other works of the flesh, 4 yet in order to cure 
 them and to discover their nature more exactly 
 we make a twofold division of them : for we 
 call some of them carnal, and some spiritual. 
 And those we call carnal, which specially 
 have to do with pampering the appetites of 
 the flesh, and with which it is so charmed and 
 satisfied, that sometimes it excites the mind 
 when at rest and even drags it against its will 
 to consent to its desire. Of which the blessed 
 Apostle says: " In which also we all walked 
 in time past in the desires of our flesh, fulfill- 
 ing the will of the flesh and of our thoughts, 
 and were by nature children of wrath even as 
 the rest." 5 But we call those spiritual which 
 spring only from the impulse of the mind and 
 
 not merely contribute no pleasure to the flesh, 
 but actually bring on it a weakness that is 
 harmful to it, and only feed a diseased mind 
 with the food of a most miserable pleasure. 
 And therefore these need a single medicine 
 for the heart: but those which are carnal 
 can only be cured, as we said, by a double 
 remedy. Whence it is extremely useful for 
 those who aspire to purity, to begin by with- 
 drawing from themselves the material which 
 feeds these carnal passions, through which 
 opportunity for or recollection of these same 
 desires can arise in a soul that is still affected 
 by the evil. For a complicated disease needs 
 a complicated remedy. For from the body the 
 object and material which would allure it 
 must be withdrawn, for fear lest the lust should 
 endeavour to break out into act ; and before 
 the mind we should no less carefully place 
 diligent meditation on Scripture and watchful 
 anxiety and the withdrawal into solitude, lest 
 it should give birth to desire even in thought. 
 But as regards other faults intercourse with 
 our fellows is no obstacle, or rather it is of 
 the greatest possible use, to those who truly 
 desire to get rid of them, because in mixing 
 with others they more often meet with rebuke, 
 and while they are more frequently provoked 
 the existence of the faults is made evident, and 
 so they are cured with speedy remedies. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 How our Lord alone was tempted without sin. 
 
 And so our Lord Jesus Christ, though 
 declared by the Apostle's word to have been 
 tempted in all points like as we are, is yet 
 said to have been "without sin," 6 i.e., without 
 the infection of this appetite, as He knew 
 nothing of incitements of carnal lust, with 
 which we are sure to be troubled even against 
 our will and without our knowledge ; 7 for the 
 archangel thus describes the manner of His 
 conception: "The Holy Ghost shall come 
 upon thee and the power of the Most High 
 
 1 S. Tames i. 14, 15. 
 
 2 S. Matt. iv. 3. 
 
 3 Job xl. 16. 
 
 « Cf. Gal. v. 19. 
 Eph. ii. 3. 
 
 Heb. iv. 15. 
 
 7 The following from D. Mozley's profound work on the Augus- 
 tinian Theory of Predestination may serve ^o illustrate the remarks 
 in the text: " Scripture says that our Lord was in all points tempted 
 like as we are. But the Church has not considered it consistent 
 with piety to interpret this text to mean that our Lord had the same 
 direct propension to sin that we have, or that which is called by 
 divines concupiscence. Such direct appetite for what is sinful is the 
 characteristic of our fallen and corrupt nature; and our Lord did 
 not assume a corrupt, but a sound humanity. Indeed, concupis- 
 cence, even prior to and independent of its gratification, has of 
 itself the nature of sin ; and therefore could not belong to a perfect 
 Being. Our Lord had all the passions and affections that legiti- 
 mately belong to man ; which passions and affections, tending as 
 they do in their own natures to become inordinate, constituted of 
 themselves a state of trial ; but the Church has regarded our Lord's 
 trial as consisting in preserving ordinate affections from becoming 
 inordinate, rather than in restraining desire proximate to sin from 
 gratification " (p. 97). 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERAPION. 
 
 34i 
 
 shall overshadow thee : therefore that which 
 shall be born of thee shall be called holy, the 
 Son of God." 1 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Of the manner of the temptation in which our Lord was 
 attacked by the devil. 
 
 For it was right that He who was in posses- 
 sion of the perfect image and likeness of God 
 should be Himself tempted through those 
 passions, through which Adam also was 
 tempted while he still retained the image of 
 God unbroken, that is, through gluttony, vain- 
 glory, pride; and not through those in which 
 he was by his own fault entangled and in- 
 volved after the transgression of the command- 
 ment, when the image and likeness of God was 
 marred. For it was gluttony through which he 
 took the fruit of the forbidden tree, vainglory 
 through which it was said "Your eyes shall be 
 opened," and pride through which it was said 
 "Ye shall be as gods, knowing good and 
 evil."' 2 With these three sins then we read 
 that the Lord our Saviour was also tempted ; 
 with gluttony when the devil said to Him: 
 "Command these stones that they be made 
 bread : " with vainglory : " If Thou art the Son 
 of God cast Thyself down: " with pride, when 
 he showed him all the kingdoms of the world 
 and the glory of them and said: "All this will 
 I give to Thee if Thou wilt fall down and 
 worship me:" 3 in order that He might by 
 His example teach us how we ought to van- 
 quish the tempter when we are attacked on 
 the same lines of temptation as He was. And 
 so both the former and the latter are spoken 
 of as Adam ; the one being the first for destruc- 
 tion and death, and the other the first for 
 resurrection and life. Through the one the 
 whole race of mankind is brought into con- 
 demnation, through the other the whole race 
 of mankind is set free. The one was fash- 
 ioned out of raw and unformed earth, the other 
 was born of the Virgin Mary. In His case 
 then though it was fitting that He should 'un- 
 dergo temptation, yet it was not necessary 
 that Fie should fail under it. Nor could He 
 who had vanquished gluttony be tempted by 
 fornication, which springs from superfluity 
 and gluttony as its root, with which even the 
 first Adam would not have been destroyed 
 unless before its birth he had been deceived 
 by the wiles of the devil and fallen a vic- 
 tim to passion. And therefore the Son of 
 God is not said absolutely to have come 
 "in the flesh of sin," but "in the likeness of 
 
 the flesh of sin," because though His was 
 true flesh and He ate and drank and slept, 
 and truly received the prints of the nails, 
 there was in Him no true sin inherited 
 from the fall, but only what was something 
 like it. For He had no experience of the 
 fiery darts of carnal lust, which in our case 
 arise even against our will, from the constitu- 
 tion of our natures, but He took upon Him 
 something like this, by sharing in our nature. 
 For as He truly fulfilled every function which 
 belongs to us, and bore all human infirmities, 
 He has consequently been considered to have 
 been subject to this feeling also, that He 
 might appear through these infirmities to 
 bear in His own flesh the state even of this 
 fault and sin. Lastly the devil only tempted 
 Him to those sins, by which he had deceived 
 the first Adam, inferring that He as man 
 would similarly be deceived in other matters 
 if he found that He was overcome by those 
 temptations by which he had overthrown His 
 predecessor. But as he was overthrown in 
 the first encounter he was not able to bring 
 upon Him the second infirmity which had 
 shot up as from the root of the first fault. 
 For he saw that He had not even admitted 
 anything from which this infirmity might take 
 its rise, and it was idle to hope for the fruit 
 of sin from Him, as he saw that He in no 
 sort of way received into Himself seeds or 
 roots of it. Yet according to Luke, who 
 places last that temptation in which he uses 
 the words " If Thou art the Son of God, cast 
 Thyself down," 4 we can understand this of 
 the feeling of pride, so that that earlier one, 
 which Matthew places third, in which, as Luke 
 the evangelist says, the devil showed Him all 
 the kingdoms of the world in a moment of 
 time and promised them to Him, may be taken 
 of the feeling of covetousness, because after 
 His victory over gluttony, he did not venture 
 to tempt Him to fornication, but passed on 
 to covetousness, which he knew to be the root 
 of all evils, 5 and when again vanquished in 
 this, he did not dare attack Him with any of 
 those sins which follow, which, as he knew 
 full well, spring from this as a root and 
 source ; and so he passed on to the last pas- 
 sion; viz., pride, by which he knew that those 
 who are perfect and have overcome all other 
 sins, can be affected, and owing to which he 
 remembered that he himself in his character 
 of Lucifer, and many others too, had fallen 
 from their heavenly estate, without tempta- 
 tion from any of the preceding passions. In 
 this order then which we have mentioned, 
 which is the one given by the evangelist Luke, 
 
 1 S. Luke i. 35. 
 
 2 Gen. iii. 5. 
 
 3 Imasrinarhim. 
 
 4 S. Luke iv. 9. 
 
 1 Tim. vi. 10. 
 
342 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 there is an exact agreement between the al- 
 lurements and forms of the temptations by 
 which that most crafty foe attacked both the 
 first and the second Adam. For to the one 
 he said "Your eyes shall be opened;" to the 
 other "he showed all the kingdoms of the world 
 and the glory of them." In the one case he 
 said " Ye shall be as gods ; " in the other, " If 
 Thou art the Son of God." * 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 How vainglory and pride can be consummated without any 
 assistance from the body. 
 
 And to go on in the order which we pro- 
 posed, with our account of the way in which 
 the other passions act (our analysis of which 
 was obliged to be interrupted by this account 
 of gluttony and of the Lord's temptation) vain- 
 glory and pride can be consummated even 
 without the slightest assistance from the body. 
 For in what way do those passions need any 
 action of the flesh, which bring ample destruc- 
 tion on the soul they take captive simply by its 
 assent and wish to gain praise and glory from 
 men? Or what act on the part of the body 
 was there in that pride of old in the case of 
 the above mentioned Lucifer; as he only con- 
 ceived it in his heart and mind, as the prophet 
 tells us: "Who saidst in thine heart: I will 
 ascend into heaven, I will set my throne above 
 the stars of God. I will ascend above the 
 heights of the clouds, I will be like the most 
 High." 2 And just as he had no one to stir 
 him up to this pride, so his thoughts alone 
 were the authors of the sin when complete 
 and of his eternal fall ; especially as no exer- 
 cise of the dominion at which he aimed 
 followed. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Of covetousness, which is something outside our nature, and 
 of the difference between it and those faults which are natu- 
 ral to us. 
 
 Covetousness and anger, although they are 
 not of the same character (for the former is 
 something outside our nature, while the 
 latter seems to have as it were its seed plot 
 within us) yet they spring up in the same way, 
 as in most instances they find the reasons for 
 their being stirred in something outside of us. 
 For often men who are still rather weak com- 
 plain that they have fallen into these sins 
 through irritation and the instigation of 
 others, and are plunged headlong into the 
 
 1 Cf. Gen. iii. 5 with S. Matt. iv. 6, S. 2 I s . xiv. 13, 14. 
 
 passions of anger and covetousness by the 
 provocation of other people. But that covet- 
 ousness is something outside our nature, we 
 can clearly see from this; viz., that it is proved 
 not to have its first starting point inside us, 
 nor does it originate in what contributes to 
 keeping body and soul together, and to the 
 existence of life. For it is plain that nothing 
 belongs to the actual needs and necessities of 
 our common life except our daily meat and 
 drink: but everything else, with whatever 
 zeal and care we preserve it. is shown to be 
 something distinct from the wants of man by 
 the needs of life itself. And so this tempta- 
 tion, as being something outside our nature, 
 only attacks those monks who are but luke- 
 warm and built on a bad foundation, whereas 
 those which are natural to us do not cease 
 from troubling even the best of monks and 
 those who dwell in solitude. And so far is 
 this shown to be true, that we find that there 
 are some nations who are altogether free from 
 this passion of covetousness, because they 
 have never by use and custom received into 
 themselves this fault and infirmity. And we 
 believe that the old world before the flood 
 was for long ages ignorant of the madness of 
 this desire. And in the case of each one of 
 us who makes his renunciation of the world a 
 thorough one, we know that it is extirpated 
 without any difficulty, if, that is, a man gives 
 up all his property, and seeks the monastic 
 discipline in such a way as not to allow him- 
 self to keep a single farthing. And we can 
 find thousands of men to bear witness to 
 this, who in a single moment have given up 
 all their property, and have so thoroughly 
 eradicated this passion as not to be in the 
 slightest degree troubled by it afterwards, 
 though all their life long they have to fight 
 against gluttony, and cannot be safe from it 
 without striving with the utmost watchfulness 
 of heart and bodily abstinence. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 How dejection and accidie generally arise without any exter- 
 nal provocation, as in the case of other faults. 3 
 
 Dejection and accidie generally arise 
 without any external provocation, like those 
 others of which we have been speaking: for 
 we are well aware that they often harass soli- 
 taries, and those who have settled themselves 
 in the desert without any intercourse with 
 
 3 Such is the heading which Gazet gives. Petschenig edits 
 " De ira atque tristitia, quod inter accedentia vitia plerumque [non] 
 inveniantur; " where " non "is his own insertion, and as he frankly 
 tells us, the heading does not suit the chapter. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERAPION. 
 
 343 
 
 other men, and this in the most distressing 
 way. And the truth of this any one who has 
 lived in the desert and made trial of the con- 
 flicts of the inner man, can easily prove by 
 experience. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 How six of these faults are related, and the two which differ 
 from them are akin to one another. 
 
 Of these eight faults then, although they 
 are different in their origin and in their 
 way of affecting us, yet the six former; viz., 
 gluttony, fornication, covetousness, anger, 
 dejection, accidie, have a sort of connexion 
 with each other, and are, so to speak, linked 
 together in a chain, so that any excess of the 
 one forms a starting point for the next. For 
 from superfluity of gluttony fornication is 
 sure to spring, and from fornication cov- 
 etousness, from covetousness anger, from 
 anger, dejection, and from dejection, accidie. 
 And so we must fight against them in the 
 same way, and with the same methods : and 
 having overcome one, we ought always to 
 enter the lists against the next. For a tall 
 and spreading tree of a noxious kind will the 
 more easily be made to wither if the roots on 
 which it depends have first been laid bare or 
 cut; and a pond of water which is dangerous 
 will be dried up at once if the spring and 
 flowing channel which produce it are carefully 
 stopped up. Wherefore in order to over- 
 come accidie, you must first get the better 
 of dejection: in order to get rid of dejection, 
 anger must first be expelled : in order to quell 
 anger, covetousness must be trampled under 
 foot : in order to root out covetousness, forni- 
 cation must be checked: and in order to 
 destroy fornication, you must chastise the 
 sin of gluttony. But the two remaining 
 faults; viz., vainglory and pride, are connected 
 together in a somewhat similar way as the 
 others of which we have spoken, so that the 
 growth of the one makes a starting point for 
 the other (for superfluity of vainglory pro- 
 duces an incentive to pride) ; but they are 
 altogether different from the six former faults, 
 and are not joined in the same category with 
 them, since not only is there no opportunity 
 given for them to spring up from these, but 
 they are actually aroused in an entirely differ- 
 ent way and manner. For when these others 
 have been eradicated these latter flourish 
 the more vigorously, and from the death of the 
 others they shoot forth and grow up all the 
 stronger: and therefore we are attacked by 
 these two faults in quite a different way. For 
 we fall into each one of those six faults at the 
 
 moment when we have been overcome by the 
 ones that went before them; but into these 
 two we are in danger of falling when we have 
 proved victorious, and above all after some 
 splendid triumph. In the cases then of all 
 faults just as they spring up from the growth 
 of those that go before them, so are they eradi- 
 cated by getting rid of the earlier* ones. And 
 in this way in order that pride may be driven 
 out vainglory must be stifled, and so if we 
 always overcome the earlier ones, the later 
 ones will be checked; and through the exter- 
 mination of those that lead the way, the rest 
 of our passions will die down without diffi- 
 culty. And though these eight faults of which 
 we have spoken are connected and joined 
 together in the way which we have shown, yet 
 they may be more exactly divided into four 
 groups and sub-divisions. For to gluttony 
 fornication is linked by a special tie: to cove- 
 tousness anger, to dejection accidie, and to 
 vainglory pride is closely allied. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Of the origin and character of each of these faults. 
 
 And now, to speak about each kind of 
 fault separately: of gluttony there are three 
 sorts: (i) that which drives a monk to eat 
 before the proper and stated times ; (2) that 
 which cares about filling the belly and gor- 
 ging it with all kinds of food, and (3) that 
 which is on the lookout for dainties and 
 delicacies. And these three sorts give a monk 
 no little trouble, unless he tries to free him- 
 self from all of them with the same care and 
 scrupulousness. For just as one should never 
 venture to break one's fast before the right 
 time so we must utterly avoid all greediness 
 in eating, and the choice and dainty prepara- 
 tion of our food : for from these three causes 
 different but extremely dangerous conditions 
 of the soul arise. For from the first there 
 springs up dislike of the monastery, and 
 thence there grows up disgust and intolerance 
 of the life there, and this is sure to be soon 
 followed by withdrawal and speedy departure 
 from it. By the second there are kindled the 
 fiery darts of luxury and lasciviousness. The 
 third also weaves the entangling meshes of 
 covetousness for the nets of its prisoners, and 
 ever hinders monks from following the perfect 
 self-abnegation of Christ. And when there 
 are traces of this passion in us we can recog- 
 nize them by this; viz., if we are kept to 
 dine by one of the brethren we are not content 
 to eat our food with the relish which he has 
 prepared and offers to us, but take the unpar- 
 
344 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 donable liberty of asking to have something 
 else poured over it or added to it, a thing 
 which we should never do for three reasons : 
 (i) because the monastic mind ought always 
 to be accustomed to practise endurance and 
 abstinence, and like the Apostle, to learn to 
 be content hi whatever state he is. 1 For one 
 who is upset by taking an unsavoury morsel 
 once and in a way, and who cannot even for 
 a short time overcome the delicacy of his 
 appetite will never succeed in curbing the 
 secret and more important desires of the 
 body; (2) because it sometimes happens that 
 at the time our host is out of that particular 
 thing which we ask for, and we make him 
 feel ashamed of the wants and bareness of 
 his table, by exposing his poverty which he 
 would rather was only known to God; (3) 
 because sometimes other people do not care 
 about the relish which we ask for, and so 
 it turns out that we are annoying most of 
 them while intent on satisfying the desires 
 of our own palate. And on this account 
 we must by all means avoid such a liberty. 
 Of fornication there are three sorts: (1) 
 that which is accomplished by sexual inter- 
 course; (2) that which takes place without 
 touching a woman, for which we read that 
 Onan the son of the patriarch Judah was 
 smitten by the Lord; and which is termed 
 by Scripture uncleanness : of which the 
 Apostle says : " But I say to the unmarried 
 and to widows, that it is good for them if 
 they abide even as I. But if they do not 
 contain let them marry: for it is better to 
 marry than to burn ; " 2 (3) that which is con- 
 ceived in heart and mind, of which the Lord 
 says in the gospel : " Whosoever looketh on a 
 woman to lust after her hath already com- 
 mitted adultery with her in his heart." 3 And 
 these three kinds the blessed Apostle tells 
 us must be stamped out in one and the same 
 way. "Mortify," says he, "your members 
 which are upon the earth, fornication, un- 
 cleanness, lust, etc." 4 And again of two of 
 them he says to the Ephesians: "Let forni- 
 cation and uncleanness be not so much as 
 named among you : " and once more : " But 
 know this that no fornicator or unclean person, 
 or covetous person who is an idolater hath 
 inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of 
 God." 5 And just as these three must be 
 avoided by us with equal care, so they one 
 and all shut us out and exclude us equally 
 from the kingdom of Christ. Of covetousness 
 there are three kinds: (1) That which hinders 
 
 1 Cf. Phil. iv. 11. 
 
 2 1 Cor. vii. 8, 9. 
 
 3 S. Matt. v. 28. 
 
 * Col. iii. 5. 
 B Eph. v. 3-5. 
 
 renunciants from allowing themselves to be 
 stripped of their goods and property; (2) 
 that which draws us to resume with excessive 
 eagerness the possession of those things 
 which we have given away and distributed to 
 the poor; (3) that which leads a man to covet 
 and procure what he never previously pos- 
 sessed. Of anger there are three kinds: 
 one which rages within, which is called in 
 Greek 6v/i6g; another which breaks out in 
 word and deed and action, which they term 
 oQY^l : of which the Apostle speaks, saying 
 " But how do ye lay aside all anger and indig- 
 nation;" 6 the third, which is not like those 
 in boiling over and being done* with in an 
 hour, but which lasts for days and long 
 periods, which is called fi^vic. And all 
 these three must be condemned by us with 
 equal horror. Of dejection there are two 
 kinds: one, that which springs up when 
 anger has died down, or is the result of some 
 loss we have incurred or of some purpose 
 which has been hindered and interfered with ; 
 the other, that which comes from unreason- 
 able anxiety of mind or from despair. Of 
 accidie there are two kinds : one of which 
 sends those affected by it to sleep; while the 
 other makes them forsake their cell and flee 
 away. Of vainglory, although it takes various 
 forms and shapes, and is divided into differ- 
 ent classes, yet there are two main kinds: 
 (1) when we are puffed up about carnal 
 things and things visible, and (2) when we 
 are inflamed with the desire of vain praise for 
 things spiritual and unseen. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 How vainglory may be useful to us. 
 
 But in one matter vainglory is found to be 
 a useful thing for beginners. I mean by 
 those who are still troubled by carnal sins, as 
 for instance, if, when they are troubled by the 
 spirit of fornication, they formed an idea of 
 the dignity of the priesthood, or of reputation 
 among all men, by which they maybe thought 
 saints and immaculate : and so with these 
 considerations they repell the unclean sugges- 
 tions of lust, as deeming them base and at least 
 unworthy of their rank and reputation ; and 
 so by means of a smaller evil they overcome 
 a greater one. For it is better for a man to 
 be troubled by the sin of vainglory than for 
 him to fall into the desire for fornication, 
 from which he either cannot recover at all or 
 only with great difficulty after he has fallen. 
 
 « Col. iii. 8. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERAPION. 
 
 ;45 
 
 And this thought is admirably expressed by 
 one of the prophets speaking in the person of 
 God, and saying : " For My name's sake I will 
 remove My wrath afar off : and with My praise 
 I will bridle thee lest thou shouldest perish," a 
 i.e., while you are enchained by the praises of 
 vainglory, you cannot possibly rush on into 
 the depths of hell, or plunge irrevocably into 
 the commission of deadly sins. Nor need we 
 wonder that this passion has the power of 
 checking anyone from rushing into the sin of 
 fornication, since it has been again and again 
 proved by many examples that when once a 
 man has been affected by its poison and 
 plague, it makes him utterly indefatigable, so 
 that he scarcely feels a fast of even two or 
 three days. And we have often known some 
 who are living in this desert, confessing that 
 when their home was in the monasteries of 
 Syria they could without difficulty go for five 
 days without food, while now they are so over- 
 come with hunger even by the third hour, that 
 they can scarcely keep on their daily fast to 
 the ninth hour. And on this subject there is 
 a very neat answer of Abbot Macarius 2 to one 
 who asked him why he was troubled with 
 hunger as early as the third hour in the desert, 
 when in the monastery he had often scorned 
 food for a whole week, without feeling hungry. 
 "Because," said he, "here there is nobody to 
 see your fast, and feed and support you with his 
 praise of you : but there you grew fat on the 
 notice of others and the food of vainglory." 
 And of the way in which, as we said, the 
 sin of fornication is prevented by an attack 
 of vainglory, there is an excellent and signifi- 
 cant figure in the book of Kings, where, when 
 the children of Israel had been taken captive 
 by Necho, King of Egypt, Nebuchadnezzar, 
 King of Assyria, came up and brought them 
 back from the borders of Egypt to their own 
 country, not indeed meaning to restore them 
 to their former liberty and their native land, 
 but meaning to carry them off to his own 
 land and to transport them to a still more 
 distant country than the land of Egypt in 
 which they had been prisoners. And this 
 illustration exactly applies to the case before 
 us. For though there is less harm in yield- 
 ing to the sin of vainglory than to fornica- 
 tion, yet it is more difficult to escape from 
 the dominion of vainglory. For somehow or 
 other the prisoner who is carried off to a 
 greater distance, will have more difficulty in 
 returning to his native land and the freedom 
 of his fathers, and the prophet's rebuke will 
 be deservedly aimed at him : " Wherefore art 
 thou grown old in a strange country? " 3 since 
 
 1 Is. xlviii. 9. 
 
 2 Cf. note on the Institutes V. xli. 
 
 a man is rightly said to have grown old in a 
 strange country, if he has not broken up the 
 ground of his faults. Of pride there are two 
 kinds: (1) carnal, and (2) spiritual, which 
 is the worse. For it especially attacks those 
 who are seen to have made progress in some 
 good qualities. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Of the different ways in which all these faults assault us. 
 
 Although then these eight faults trouble 
 all sorts of men, yet they do not attack them 
 all in the same way. For in one man the 
 spirit of fornication holds the chief place: 
 wrath rides rough shod over another: over 
 another vainglory claims dominion: in an- 
 other pride holds the field : and though it 
 is clear that we are all attacked by all of 
 them, yet the difficulties come to each of us 
 in very different ways and manners. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Of the struggle into which we must enter against our faults, 
 when they attack us. 
 
 Wherefore we must enter the lists against 
 these faults in such a way that every one 
 should discover his besetting sin, and direct 
 his main attack against it, directing all his 
 care and watchfulness of mind to guard 
 against its assault, directing against it daily 
 the weapons of fasting, and at all times hurl- 
 ing against it the constant darts of sighs and 
 groanings from the heart, and employing 
 against it the labours of vigils and the medi- 
 tation of the heart, and further pouring forth 
 to God constant tears and prayers and contin- 
 ually and expressly praying to be delivered 
 from its attack. For it is impossible for a 
 man to win a triumph over any kind of pas- 
 sion, unless he has first clearly understood 
 that he cannot possibly gain the victory in 
 the struggle with it by his own strength and 
 efforts, although in order that he may be ren- 
 dered pure he must night and day persist in 
 the utmost care and watchfulness. And even 
 when he feels that he has got rid of this fault, 
 he should still search the inmost recesses of 
 his heart with the same purpose, and single 
 out the worst fault which he can see among 
 those still there, and bring all the forces of 
 the Spirit to bear against it in particular, and 
 
 3 Baruch iii. n. 
 
146 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 so by always overcoming the stronger pas- 
 sions, he will gain a quick and easy victory 
 over the rest, because by a course of triumphs 
 the soul is made more vigorous, and the fact 
 that the next conflict is with weaker passion 
 insures him a readier success in the struggle : 
 as is generally the case with those who are 
 wont to face all kinds of wild beasts in the 
 presence of the kings of this world, out of 
 consideration for the rewards — a kind of 
 spectacle which is generally called "pancar- 
 pus." 1 Such men, I say, direct their first 
 assault against whatever beasts they see to be 
 the strongest and fiercest, and when they have 
 despatched these, then they can more easily 
 lay low the remaining ones, which are not so 
 terrible and powerful. So too, by always 
 overcoming the stronger passions, as weaker 
 ones take their place, a perfect victory will 
 be secured for us without any risk. Nor need 
 we imagine that if any one grapples with one 
 fault in particular, and seems too careless 
 about guarding against the attacks of others, 
 he will be easily wounded by a sudden assault, 
 for this cannot possibly happen. For where 
 a man is anxious to cleanse his heart, and has 
 steeled his heart's purpose against the attack 
 of any one fault, it is impossible for him not 
 to have a general dread of all other faults as 
 well, and take similar care of them. For if 
 a man renders himself unworthy of the prize 
 of purity by contaminating himself with other 
 faults, how can he possibly succeed in gaining 
 the victory over that one passion from which 
 he is longing to be freed? But when the main 
 purpose of our heart has singled out one pas- 
 sion as the special object of its attack, we 
 shall pray about it more earnestly, and with 
 special anxiety and fervour shall entreat that 
 we may be more especially on our guard 
 against it and so succeed in gaining a speedy 
 victory. For the giver of the law himself 
 teaches us that we ought to follow this plan 
 in our conflicts and not to trust in our own 
 power; as he says: "Thou shalt not fear them 
 because the Lord thy God is in the midst of 
 thee, a God mighty and terrible: He will con- 
 sume these nations in thy sight by little and 
 little and by degrees. Thou wilt not be able 
 to destroy them altogether: lest perhaps the 
 beasts of the earth should increase upon thee. 
 But the Lord thy God shall deliver them in 
 thy sight; and shall slay them until they be 
 utterly destroyed." * 
 
 1 Pancarfins (ndyKapTro<;). The word was originally applied to 
 an offering of all kinds of fruit. Cf. Tertullian ad Valent. xii. It 
 is also used in the general sense " of all sorts " by Augustine, Adv. 
 Secund. xxiii. Cassian here speaks as if it had become the popular 
 name for the conflicts of gladiators with all kinds of beasts, though 
 there is apparently no other authority for this. 
 
 2 Deut. vii. 21-23. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 How we can do nothing against our faults without the help of 
 God, and how we should not be puffed up by victories over 
 them. 
 
 And that we ought not to be puffed up by 
 victories over them he likewise charges us ; say- 
 ing, " Lest after thou hast eaten and art filled, 
 hast built goodly houses and dwelt in them, 
 and shalt have herds of oxen and flocks of 
 sheep, and plenty of gold and of silver, and 
 of all things, thy heart be lifted up and thou 
 remember not the Lord thy God, who brought 
 thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the 
 house of bondage ; and was thy leader in the 
 great and terrible wilderness." 3 Solomon 
 also says in Proverbs : " When thine enemy 
 shall fall be not glad, and in his ruin be not 
 lifted up, lest the Lord see and it displease 
 Him, and He turn away His wrath from him, " 4 
 i.e., lest He see thy pride of heart, and cease 
 from attacking him, and thou begin to be for- 
 saken by Him and so once more to be troubled 
 by that passion which by God's grace thou 
 hadst previously overcome. For the prophet 
 would not have prayed in these words, " Deliver 
 not up to beasts, O Lord, the soul that con- 
 fesseth to Thee," 5 unless he had known that 
 because of their pride of heart some were given 
 over again to those faults which they had over- 
 come, in order that they might be humbled. 
 Wherefore it is well for us both to be certified 
 by actual experience, and also to be instructed 
 by countless passages of Scripture, that we 
 cannot possibly overcome such mighty foes in 
 our own strength, and unless supported by 
 the aid of God alone; and that we ought 
 always to refer the whole of our victory each 
 day to God Himself, as the Lord Himself also 
 gives us instruction by Moses on this very 
 point: " Say not in thine heart when the Lord 
 thy God shall have destroyed them in thy sight: 
 For my righteousness hath the Lord brought me 
 in to possess this land, whereas these nations 
 are destroyed for their wickedness. For it is 
 not for thy righteousness, and the uprightness 
 of thine heart, that thou shalt go in to possess 
 their lands : but because they have done 
 wickedly they are destroyed at thy coming 
 in." 6 I ask what could be said clearer in op- 
 position to that impious notion and imperti- 
 nence of ours, in which we want to ascribe 
 everything that we do to our own free will and 
 our own exertions ? " Say not, " he tells us, " in 
 thine heart, when the Lord thy God shall 
 have destroyed them in thy sight: For my 
 
 3 Deut. viii. 12-15. 
 
 * Prov. xxiv. 17, i3(LXX.). 
 
 Ps. lxxiii. (Ixxiv.) 19. 
 c Deut. ix. 4, 5. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERAPION. 
 
 347 
 
 righteousness the Lord hath brought me in to 
 possess this land." To those who have their 
 eyes opened and their ears ready to hearken 
 does not this plainly say: When your struggle 
 with carnal faults has gone well for you, and 
 you see that you are free from the filth of 
 them, and from the fashions of this world, 
 do not be puffed up by the success of the 
 conflict and victory and ascribe it to your own 
 power and wisdom, nor fancy that you have 
 gained the victory over spiritual wickedness 
 and carnal sins through your own exertions and 
 energy, and free will? For there is no doubt 
 that in all this you could not possibly have 
 succeeded, unless you had been fortified and 
 protected by the help of the Lord. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Of the meaning of the seven nations of whose lands Israel 
 took possession, and the reason why they are sometimes 
 spoken of as " seven," and sometimes as " many." 
 
 These are the seven nations whose lands 
 the Lord promised to give to the children of 
 Israel when they came out of Egypt. And 
 everything which, as the Apostle says, hap- 
 pened to them " in a figure " l we ought to take 
 as written for our correction. For so we 
 read: "When the Lord thy God shall have 
 brought thee into the land, which thou art 
 going in to possess, and shall have destroyed 
 many nations before thee, the Hittite, and the 
 Girgashites, and the Amorite, the Canaanite, 
 and the Perizzite, andtheHivite, andthejebu- 
 site, seven nations much more numerous than 
 thou art and much stronger than thou : and the 
 Lord thy God shall have delivered them to 
 thee, thou shalt utterly destroy them." 2 And 
 the reason that they are said to be much more 
 numerous, is that faults are many more in 
 number than virtues and so in the list of 
 them the nations are reckoned as seven in 
 number, but when the attack upon them is 
 spoken of they are set down without their 
 number being given, for thus we read "And 
 shall have destroyed many nations before 
 thee." For the race of carnal passions which 
 springs' from this sevenfold incentive and 
 root of sin, is more numerous than that of 
 Israel. For thence spring up murders, strifes, 
 heresies, thefts, false witness, blasphemy, sur- 
 feiting, drunkenness, back-biting, buffoon- 
 ery, filthy conversation, lies, perjury, foolish 
 talking, scurrility, restlessness, greediness, 
 bitterness, clamour, wrath, contempt, mur- 
 muring, temptation, despair, and many other 
 
 faults, which it would take too long to de- 
 scribe. And if we are inclined to think these 
 small matters, let us hear what the Apostle 
 thought about them, and what was his opinion 
 of them: "Neither murmur ye," says he, "as 
 some of them murmured, and were destroyed 
 of the destroyer : " and of temptation : " Neither 
 let us tempt Christ as some of them tempted 
 and perished by the serpents." 3 Of back- 
 biting: "Love not backbiting lest thou be 
 rooted out. " 4 And of despair : " Who despair- 
 ing have given themselves up to lascivious- 
 ness unto the working of all error, in 
 uncleanness." 5 And that clamour is con- 
 demned as well as anger and indignation and 
 blasphemy, the words of the same Apostle 
 teach us as clearly as possible when he thus 
 charges us: "Let all bitterness, and anger, 
 and indignation, and clamour, and blasphemy 
 be put away from you with all malice," 6 and 
 many more things like these. And though 
 these are far more numerous than the virtues 
 are, yet if those eight principal sins, from 
 which we know that these naturally proceed, 
 are first overcome, all these at once sink down, 
 and are destroyed together with them with 
 a lasting destruction. For from gluttony 
 proceed surfeiting and drunkenness. From 
 fornication filthy conversation, scurrility, buf- 
 foonery and foolish talking. From covet- 
 ousness, lying, deceit, theft, perjury, the 
 desire of filthy lucre, false witness, violence, 
 inhumanity, and greed. From anger, murders, 
 clamour and indignation. From dejection, 
 rancor, cowardice, bitterness, despair. From 
 accidie, laziness, sleepiness, rudeness, rest- 
 lessness, wandering about, instability both of 
 mind and body, chattering, inquisitiveness. 
 From vainglory, contention, heresies, boast- 
 ing and confidence in novelties. From pride, 
 contempt, envy, disobedience, blasphemy, 
 murmuring, backbiting. And that all these 
 plagues are stronger than we, we can tell very 
 plainly from the way in which they attack us. 
 For the delight in carnal passions wars more 
 powerfully in our members than does the 
 desire for virtue, which is only gained with 
 the greatest contrition of heart and body. 
 But if you will only gaze with the eyes of the 
 spirit on those countless hosts of our foes, 
 which the Apostle enumerates where he says : 
 " For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, 
 but against principalities, against powers, 
 against the world-rulers of this darkness, 
 against spiritual wickedness in heavenly 
 places," 7 and this which we find of the right- 
 
 1 Cf. i Cor. x. 6. 
 
 2 Deut. vii. i, 2. 
 
 s 1 Cor. x. 9, 10. 
 
 * Prov. xx. 13 (LXX.). 
 
 B Eph. iv. 19. 
 
 6 Eph. iv. 31. 
 
 7 Ibid., iv. 12. 
 
348 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 eous man in the nineteenth Psalm: "A thou- 
 sand shall fall beside thee and ten thousand 
 at thy right hand," 1 then you will clearly see 
 that they are far more numerous and more 
 powerful than are we, carnal and earthly crea- 
 tures as we are, while to them is given a 
 substance which is spiritual and incorporeal. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 A question with regard to the comparison of seven nations 
 with eight faults. 
 
 Germanus : How then is it that there are 
 eight faults which assault us, when Moses 
 reckons the nations opposed to the people of 
 Israel as seven, and how is it well for us to 
 take possession of the territory of our faults ? 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 The answer how the number of eight nations is made up in 
 accordance with the eight faults. 
 
 Serapion: Everybody is perfectly agreed 
 that there are eight principal faults which 
 affect a monk. And all of them are not in- 
 cluded in the figure of the nations for this 
 reason, because in Deuteronomy Moses, or 
 rather the Lord through him, was speaking to 
 those who had already gone forth from Egypt 
 and been set free from one most powerful 
 nation, I mean that of the Egyptians. And 
 we find that this figure holds good also in our 
 case, as when we have got clear of the snares 
 of this world we are found to be free from 
 gluttony, i.e., the sin of the belly and palate; 
 and like them we have a conflict against these 
 seven remaining nations, without taking 
 account at all of the one which has been 
 already overcome. And the land of this 
 nation was not given to Israel for a possession, 
 but the command of the Lord ordained that 
 they should at once forsake it and go forth 
 from it. And for this cause our fasts ought 
 to be made moderate, that there may be no 
 need for us through excessive abstinence, 
 which results from weakness of the flesh and 
 infirmity, to return again to the land of Egypt, 
 i.e., to our former greed and carnal lust which 
 we forsook when we made our renunciation 
 of this world. And this has happened in a 
 figure, in those who after having gone forth 
 into the desert of virtue again hanker after the 
 flesh pots over which they sat in Egypt. 
 
 1 Ps. xc. (xci.) 7. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The reason why one nation is to be forsaken, while seven are 
 commanded to be destroyed. 
 
 But the reason why that nation in which 
 the children of Israel were born, was bidden 
 not to be utterly destroyed but only to have its 
 land forsaken, while it was commanded that 
 these seven nations were to be completely 
 destroyed, is this: because however great may 
 be the ardour of spirit, inspired by which we 
 have entered on the desert of virtues, yet we 
 cannot possibly free ourselves entirely from 
 the neighbourhood of gluttony or from its 
 service and, so to speak, from daily inter- 
 course with it. For the liking for delicacies 
 and dainties will live on as something natural 
 and innate in us, even though we take pains 
 to cut off all superfluous appetites and 
 desires, which, as they cannot be altogether 
 destroyed, ought ,to be shunned and avoided. 
 For of these we read " Take no care for the 
 flesh with its desires." 2 While then we still 
 retain the feeling for this care, which we are 
 bidden not altogether to cut off, but to keep 
 without its desires, it is clear that we do not 
 destroy the Egyptian nation but separate our- 
 selves in a sort of way from it, not thinking 
 anything about luxuries and delicate feasts, 
 but, as the Apostle says, being "content with 
 our daily food and clothing." 3 And this is 
 commanded in a figure in the law, in this 
 way: "Thou shalt not abhor the Egyptian, 
 because thou wast a stranger in his land." 4 
 For necessary food is not refused to the body 
 without danger to it and sinfulness in the 
 soul. But of those seven troublesome faults 
 we must in every possible way root out the 
 affections from the inmost recesses of our 
 souls. For of them we read : "Let all bitter- 
 ness and anger and indignation and clamour 
 and blasphemy be put away from you with all 
 malice:" and again: "But fornication and 
 all uncleanness and covetousness let it not so 
 much as be named among you, or obscenity or 
 foolish talking or scurrility." 5 We can then 
 cut out the roots of these faults which are 
 grafted into our nature from without while 
 we cannot possibly cut off occasions of glut- 
 tony. For however far we have advanced, 
 we cannot help being what we were born. 
 And that this is so we can show not only from 
 the lives of little people like ourselves but 
 from the lives and customs of all who have 
 attained perfection, who even when they have 
 
 2 Rom. xiii. 14. 
 
 3 Cf. 1 Tim. vi. 8. 
 
 4 Deut. xxiii. 7. 
 
 Eph. iv. 31; v. 3, 4- 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERAPION. 
 
 149 
 
 got rid of incentives to all other passions, and 
 are retiring to the desert with perfect fervour 
 of spirit and bodily abnegation, yet still can- 
 not do without thought for their daily meal 
 and the preparation of their food from year to 
 year. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Of the nature of gluttony, which may be illustrated by the 
 simile of the eagle. 
 
 An admirable illustration of this passion, 
 with which a monk, however spiritual and 
 excellent, is sure to be hampered, is found in 
 the simile of the eagle. For this bird when 
 in its flight on high it has soared above the 
 highest clouds, and has withdrawn itself from 
 the eyes of all mortals and from the face of 
 the whole earth, is yet compelled by the needs 
 of the belly to drop down and descend to the 
 earth and feed upon carrion and dead bodies. 
 And this clearly shows that the spirit of glut- 
 tony cannot be altogether extirpated like all 
 other faults, nor be entirely destroyed like 
 them, but that we can only hold down and 
 check by the power of the mind all incentives 
 to it and all superfluous appetites. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Of the lasting character of gluttony as described to some 
 philosophers. 
 
 For the nature of this fault was admirably 
 expressed under cover of the following puzzle 
 by one of the Elders in a discussion with 
 some philosophers, who thought that they 
 might chaff him like a country bumpkin 
 because of his Christian simplicity. " My 
 father, " said he, " left me in the clutches of a 
 great many creditors. All the others I have 
 paid in full, and have freed myself from all 
 their pressing claims ; but one I cannot satisfy 
 even by a daily payment. " And when they 
 could not see the meaning of the puzzle, and 
 urgently begged him to explain it: "I was," 
 said he, " in my natural condition, encompassed 
 by a great many faults. But when God in- 
 spired me with the longing to be free, I 
 renounced this world, and at the same time 
 gave up all my property which I had inherited 
 from my father, and so I satisfied them all 
 like pressing creditors, and freed myself 
 entirely from them. But I was never able 
 altogether to get rid of the incentives to glut- 
 tony. For though I reduce the quantity of 
 food which I take to the smallest possible 
 amount, yet I cannot avoid the force of its 
 daily solicitations, but must be perpetually 
 
 'dunned' by it, and be making as it were in- 
 terminable payments by continually satisfying 
 it, and pay never ending toll at its demand." 
 Then they declared that this man, whom they 
 had till now despised as a booby and a country 
 bumpkin, had thoroughly grasped the first 
 principles of philosophy, i.e., training in 
 ethics, and they marvelled that he could by 
 the light of nature have learnt that which no 
 schooling in this world could have taught 
 him, while they themselves with all their 
 efforts and long course of training had not 
 learnt this. This is enough on gluttony in 
 particular. Now let us return to the discourse 
 in which we had begun to consider the general 
 relation of our faults to each other. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 How it was that God foretold to Abraham that Israel would 
 have to drive out ten nations. 
 
 When the Lord was speaking with Abraham 
 about the future (a point which you did not 
 ask about) we find that He did not enumerate 
 seven nations, but ten, whose land He 
 promised to give to his seed. 1 And this 
 number is plainly made up by adding idolatry, 
 and blasphemy, to whose dominion, before the 
 knowledge of God and the grace of Baptism, 
 both the irreligious hosts of the Gentiles and 
 blasphemous ones of the Jews were subject, 
 while they dwelt in a spiritual Egypt. But 
 when a man has made his renunciation and 
 come forth from thence, and having by God's 
 grace conquered gluttony, has come into the 
 spiritual wilderness, then he is free from the 
 attacks of these three, and will only have to 
 wage war against those seven which Moses 
 enumerates. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 How it is useful for us to take possession of their lands. 
 
 But the fact that we are bidden for our good 
 to take possession of the countries of those 
 most wicked nations, may be understood in 
 this way. Each fault has its own especial corner 
 in the heart, which it claims for itself in the 
 recesses of the soul, and drives out Israel, 
 i.e., the contemplation of holy and heavenly 
 things, and never ceases to oppose them. For 
 virtues cannot possibly live side by side with 
 faults. "For what participation hath right- 
 eousness with unrighteousness? Or what fel- 
 lowship hath light with darkness? " 2 But as 
 
 1 Cf. Gen. xv. 18-2 r. 
 
 2 2 Cor. vi. u. 
 
35° 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 soon as these faults have been overcome by 
 the people of Israel, i.e., by those virtues 
 which war against them, then at once the 
 place in our heart which the spirit of concu- 
 piscence and fornication had occupied, will 
 be filled by chastity. That which wrath had 
 held, will be claimed by patience. That 
 which had been occupied by a sorrow that 
 worketh death, will be taken by a godly sor- 
 row and one full of joy. That which had 
 been wasted by accidie, will at once be 
 tilled by courage. That which pride had 
 trodden down will be ennobled by humility: 
 and so when each of these faults has been 
 expelled, their places (that is the tendency 
 towards them) will be rilled by the opposite 
 virtues which are aptly termed the children of 
 Israel, that is, of the soul that seeth God : 1 
 and when these have expelled all passions 
 from the heart we may believe that they have 
 recovered their own possessions rather than 
 invaded those of others. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 How the lands from which the Canaanites were expelled, had 
 been assigned to the seed of Shem. 
 
 For, as an ancient tradition tells us, 2 these 
 same lands of the Canaanites into which the 
 children of Israel were brought, had been 
 formerly allotted to the children of Shem at 
 the division of the world, and afterward the 
 descendants of Ham wickedly invading them 
 with force and violence took possession of 
 them. And in this the righteous judgment of 
 God is shown, as He expelled from the land 
 of others these who had wrongfully taken 
 possession of them, and restored to those 
 others the ancient property of their fathers 
 which had been assigned to their ancestors at 
 the division of the world. And we can per- 
 fectly well see that this figure holds good in 
 our own case. For by nature God's will 
 assigned the possession of our heart not to 
 vices but to virtues, which, after the fall of 
 Adam were driven out from their own country 
 by the sins which grew up, i.e., by the Canaan- 
 ites; and so when by God's grace they are by 
 our efforts and labour restored again to it, we 
 may hold that they have not occupied the 
 territory of another, but rather have recovered 
 their own country. 
 
 1 Cf. the note on " Against Nestorius " VII. ix. 
 
 2 The "ancient tradition" to which Cassian here alludes is 
 given in the Clementine Recognitions I. xxix., xxx. ; and in 
 Epiphanius " Heresies," c. Ixvi. § 83, so., where it is given as an 
 answer to the Manichsean objection against the cruelty and injustice 
 of the extermination of the Canaanites by the Israelites. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Different passages of Scripture on the meaning of the eight 
 faults. 
 
 And in reference to these eight faults we 
 also have the following in the gospel : " But 
 when the unclean spirit is gone out from a 
 man, he walketh through dry places seeking 
 rest and findeth none. Then he saith, I will 
 return to my house from whence I came out : 
 and coming he findeth it empty, swept, and 
 garnished : then he goeth and taketh seven 
 other spirits worse than himself, and they 
 enter in and dwell there : and the last state of 
 that man is made worse than the first." 3 Lo, 
 just as in the former passages we read of 
 seven nations besides that of the Egyptians 
 from which the children of Israel had gone 
 forth, so here too seven unclean spirits are 
 said to return beside that one which we first 
 hear of as going forth from the man. And 
 of this sevenfold incentive of sins Solomon 
 gives the following account in Proverbs: "If 
 thine enemy speak loud to thee, do not agree 
 to him because there are seven mischiefs in 
 his heart;" 4 i.e., if the spirit of gluttony is 
 overcome and begins to flatter you with having 
 humiliated it, asking in a sort of way that 
 you would relax something of the fervour with 
 which you began, and yield to it something 
 beyond what the due limits of abstinence, and 
 measure of strict severity would allow, do not 
 you be overcome by its submission, nor return 
 in fancied security from its assaults, as you 
 seem to have become for a time freed from 
 carnal desires, to your previous state of care- 
 lessness or former liking for good things. 
 For through this the spirit whom you have 
 vanquished is saying "I will return to my 
 house from whence I came out," and forthwith 
 the seven spirits of sins which proceed from 
 it will prove to you more injurious than that 
 passion which in the first instance you over- 
 came, and will presently drag you down to 
 worse kinds of sins. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 How when we have got the better of the passion of gluttony 
 we must take pains to gain all the other virtues. 
 
 Wherefore while we are practising fasting 
 and abstinence, we must be careful when we 
 have got the better of the passion of gluttony 
 never to allow our mind to remain empty of 
 the virtues of which we stand in need; but 
 
 3 S. Matt. xii. 43-45- 
 
 d Prov. xxvi. 25. (lxx.). 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEODORE. 
 
 351 
 
 we should the more earnestly fill the inmost 
 recesses of our heart with them for fear lest 
 the spirit of concupiscence should return and 
 find us empty and void of them, and should 
 not be content to secure an entrance there for 
 himself alone, but should bring in with him 
 into our heart this sevenfold incentive of sins 
 and make our last state worse than the first. 
 For the soul which boasts that it has re- 
 nounced this world with the eight faults that 
 hold sway over it, will afterwards be fouler 
 and more unclean and visited with severer 
 punishments, than it was when formerly it 
 was at home in the world, when it had taken 
 upon itself neither the rules nor the name of 
 monk. For these seven spirits are said to be 
 worse than the first which went forth, for this 
 reason; because the love of good things, i.e., 
 gluttony would not be in itself harmful, were 
 it not that it opened the door to other pas- 
 sions; viz, to fornication, covetousness, 
 anger, dejection, and pride, which are 
 clearly hurtful in themselves to the soul, and 
 domineering over it. And therefore a man 
 will never be able to gain perfect purity, if he 
 hopes to secure it by means of abstinence 
 alone, i.e., bodily fasting, unless he knows 
 that he ought to practise it for this reason 
 that when the flesh is brought low by means 
 of fasting, he may with greater ease enter the 
 lists against other faults, as the flesh has not 
 been habituated to gluttony and surfeiting. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 That our battles are not fought with our faults in the same 
 order as that in which they stand in the list. 
 
 But you must know that our battles are not 
 all fought in the same order, because, as we 
 mentioned that the attacks are not always 
 made on us in the same way, each one of us 
 ought also to begin the battle with due regard 
 to the character of the attack which is espe- 
 cially made on him so that one man will have 
 to fight his first battle against the fault which 
 stands third on the list, another against that 
 which is fourth or fifth. And in proportion 
 as faults hold sway over us, and the character 
 of their attack may demand, so we too ought 
 to regulate the order of our conflict, in such a 
 way that the happy result of a victory and 
 triumph succeeding may insure our attain- 
 ment of purity of heart and complete per- 
 fection. 
 
 Thus far did Abbot Serapion discourse to us 
 of the nature of the eight principal faults, and 
 so clearly did he expound the different sorts 
 of passions which are latent within us — the 
 origin and connexion of which, though we 
 were daily tormented by them, we could never 
 before thoroughly understand and perceive — 
 that we seemed almost to see them spread out 
 before our eyes as in a mirror. 
 
 VI. 
 CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEODORE. 1 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF THE SAINTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Description of the wilderness, and the question about the 
 death of the saints. 
 
 In the district of Palestine near the village 
 of Tekoa which had the honour of producing 
 the prophet Amos, 2 there is a vast desert 
 which stretches far and wide as far as Arabia 
 and the dead sea, into which the streams of 
 Jordan enter and are lost, and where are the 
 ashes of Sodom. In this district there lived 
 
 1 This Abbot Theodore is probably the same person as the one 
 mentioned in the Institutes, Book V. cc. xxxiii.-xxxv. ; but nothing 
 further is known of him, and there is no reason for identifying him 
 with any of the other monks of this name of the fourth century. 
 
 2 CI. Amos i. i. 
 
 for a long while monks of the most perfect 
 life and holiness, who were suddenly de- 
 stroyed by an incursion of Saracen robbers: 3 
 whose bodies we knew were seized upon with 
 the greatest veneration 4 both by the Bishops of 
 the neighbourhood and by the whole populace 
 
 3 Saraceni (SapaKru'cu) : a name given by the classical geographers 
 to a tribe of Arabia Felix, famous for its predatory propensities. 
 Jerome speaks of the " mons et desertum Saracenorum quod vocatur 
 Pharan " (Liber de situ et nominibus sub voce Choreb) and elsewhere 
 describes their predatory habits (Liber Heb. Qua^st in Genesim) 
 " Saracenos vagos . . . qui universas gentes . . . incursant." By 
 the seventh century the name had become a merely general term 
 equivalent to Arab, and was accordingly adopted and applied indiffer- 
 ently to all the followers of Mohammed by the writers of the middle 
 ages (cf. the Dictionary of Greek and Roman Geography, sub 
 voce) . 
 
 * There is no mention of these martyrs in the so-called Martyro- 
 logium Hieronymianum, but they are commemorated on May 2S, in 
 the Roman Martyrology. 
 
352 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 of Arabia, and deposited among the relics of 
 the martyrs, so that swarms of people from 
 two towns met, and made terrible war upon 
 each other, and in their struggle actually came 
 to blows for the possession of the holy spoil, 
 while they strove among themselves with 
 pious zeal as to which of them had the better 
 claim to bury them and keep their relics ■ — the 
 one party boasting of their vicinity to the 
 place of their abode, the other of the fact that 
 they were near the place of their birth. But 
 we were upset by this and being disturbed 
 either on our own account or on account of 
 some of the brethren who were in no small 
 degree scandalized at it, inquired why men of 
 such illustrious merits and of so great virtues 
 should be thus slain by robbers, and why the 
 Lord permitted such a crime to be committed 
 against his servants, so as to give up into the 
 hands of wicked men those who were the ad- 
 miration of everybody: and so in our grief we 
 came to the holy Theodore, a man who ex- 
 celled in practical common sense. For he 
 was living in Cellae, 1 a place that lies between 
 Nitria and Scete, and is five miles distant 
 from the monasteries of Nitria, and cut off by 
 eighty intervening miles of desert from the 
 wilderness of Scete where we were living. 
 And when we had made our complaint to him 
 about the death of the men mentioned above, 
 and expressed our surprise at the great 
 patience of God, because He suffered men of 
 such worth to be killed in this way, so that 
 those who ought to be able by the weight of 
 their sanctity to deliver others from trials of 
 this kind, could not save themselves from the 
 hands of wicked men (and asked) why it was 
 that God allowed so great a crime to be com- 
 mitted against his servants, then the blessed 
 Theodore replied. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Abbot Theodore's answer to the question proposed to him. 
 
 This question often exercises the minds of 
 those who have not much faith or knowledge, 
 and imagine that the prizes and rewards of 
 the saints (which are not given in this world, 
 but laid up for the future) are bestowed in the 
 
 1 Cellae, which was, according to the passage before us, between 
 the deserts of Scete and Nitria, apparently derived its name from 
 the cells of the monks who congregated there. This at least is the 
 explanation of the name given by Sozomen (H. E. VI. xxxi.) who 
 speaks of a region called xeAAia, throughout which numerous little 
 dwellings (oi/c7J,<iaTa) are dispersed, whence it obtains its name. 
 Sozomen also speaks (c. xxix.) of Macarius as priest of Cellae, a 
 fact which gives some ground for conjecturing that Cells may be 
 identified with Dair Abu Makar, one of the four monasteries still 
 existing in the deserts of Nitria and Scete, probably founded by the 
 saint whose name it bears (Macarius). See A. J. Butler's " Coptic 
 Churches of Egypt," vol. i. c. vii. 
 
 short space of this mortal life. But we whose 
 hope in Christ is not only in this life, for fear 
 lest, as the Apostle says, we should be '"of all 
 men most miserable " 2 (because as we receive 
 none of the promises in this world we should 
 for our unbelief lose them also in that to 
 come) ought not wrongly to follow their ideas, 
 lest through ignorance of the true real expla- 
 nation, we should hesitate and tremble and 
 fail in temptation, if we find ourselves given 
 up to such men; and should ascribe to God 
 injustice or carelessness about the affairs of 
 mankind — a thing which it is almost a sin 
 to mention — because He does not protect in 
 their temptations men who are living an up- 
 right and holy life, nor requite good men 
 with good things and evil men with evil things 
 in this world ; and so we should deserve to fall 
 under the condemnation of those whom the 
 prophet Zephaniah rebukes, saying "who say 
 in their hearts the Lord will not do good, nor 
 will He do evil : " 3 or at least be found among 
 those of whom we are told that they blaspheme 
 God with such complaints as this : " Every one 
 that doeth evil is good in the sight of the 
 Lord, and such please Him: for surely where 
 is the God of judgment ? " 4 Adding further 
 that blasphemy which is described in the 
 same way in what follows : " He laboureth in 
 vain that serveth God, and what profit is it 
 that we have kept His ordinances, and walked 
 sorrowful before the Lord? Wherefore now 
 we call the proud happy, for they that work 
 wickedness are enriched, and they have 
 tempted God, and are preserved. " 5 Where- 
 fore that we may avoid this ignorance which 
 is the root and cause of this most deadly 
 error, we ought in the first place to know 
 what is really good, and what is bad, and so 
 finally if we grasp the true scriptural meaning 
 of these words, and not the false popular one, 
 we shall escape being deceived by the errors 
 of unbelievers. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Of the three kinds of things there are in the world ; viz.. good 
 bad, and indifferent. 
 
 Altogether there are three kinds of things 
 in the world; viz., good, bad, and indifferent. 
 And so we ought to know what is properly 
 good, and what is bad, and what is indiffer- 
 ent, that our faith may be supported by true 
 knowledge and stand firm in all temptations. 
 We must then believe that in things which 
 
 2 i Cor. xv. 19. 
 
 3 Zeph. i. 12. 
 
 4 Mai. ii. 17. 
 6 Mai. iii. 14, 15. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEODORE. 
 
 353 
 
 are merely human there is no real good except 
 virtue of soul alone, which leads us with un- 
 feigned faith to things divine, and makes us 
 constantly adhere to that unchanging good. _ 
 And on the other hand we ought not to call 
 anything bad, except sin alone, which sepa- 
 rates us from the good God, and unites us to 
 the evil devil. But those things are indiffer- 
 ent which can be appropriated to either side 
 according to the fancy or wish of their owner, 
 as for instance riches, power, honour, bodily 
 strength, good health, beauty, life itself, and 
 death, poverty, bodily infirmities, injuries, 
 and other things of the same sort, which can 
 contribute either to good or to evil as the 
 character and fancy of their owner directs. 
 For riches are often serviceable for our good, 
 as the Apostle says, who charges " the rich of 
 this world to be ready to give, to distribute 
 to the needy, to lay up in store for themselves 
 a good foundation against the time to come, 
 that" by this means " they may lay hold on the 
 true life." x And according to the gospel they 
 are a good thing for those who " make to them- 
 selves friends of the unrighteous mammon." 2 
 And again, they can be drawn in the direction 
 of what is bad when they are amassed only 
 for the sake of hoarding them or for a life of 
 luxury, and are not employed to meet the 
 wants of the poor. And that power also and 
 honour and bodily strength and good health 
 are indifferent and available for either (good 
 or bad) can easily be shown from the fact that 
 many of the Old Testament saints enjoyed 
 all these things and were in positions of great 
 wealth and the highest honour, and blessed 
 with bodily strength, and yet are known to 
 have been most acceptable to God. And on 
 the contrary those who have wrongfully abused 
 these things and perverted them for their own 
 purposes are not without good reason pun- 
 ished or destroyed, as the Book of Kings 
 shows us has often happened. And that even 
 life and death are in themselves indifferent 
 the birth of S. John and of Judas proves. 
 For in the case of the one his life was so 
 profitable to himself that we are told that his 
 birth brought joy to others also, as we read 
 " And many shall rejoice at his birth ; " 3 but of 
 the life of the other it is said: "It were good 
 for that man if he had never been born." 4 
 Further it is said of the death of John and of 
 all saints " Right dear in the sight of the Lord 
 is the death of His saints: " 5 but of that of 
 Judas and men like him "The death of the 
 wicked is very evil. ' ' 6 And how useful bodily 
 
 1 i Tim. vi. 17-19. 
 
 2 S. Luke xvi. 9. 
 
 3 S. Luke i. 14. 
 
 4 S. Matt. xxvi. 24. 
 
 5 Ps. cxv. 6 (cxvi. 15). 
 
 6 Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 32. 
 
 sickness sometimes may be the blessing on 
 Lazarus, the beggar who was full of sores, 
 shows us. For Scripture makes mention of 
 no other good qualities or deserts of his, but 
 it was for this fact alone; viz., that he endured 
 want and bodily sickness with the utmost 
 patience, that he was deemed worthy of the 
 blessed lot of a place in Abraham's bosom. 7 
 And with regard to want and persecution and 
 injuries which everybody thinks to be bad, how 
 useful and necessary they are is clearly proved 
 by this fact; viz., that the saints not only 
 never tried to avoid them, but actually either 
 sought them with all their powers or bravely 
 endured them, and thus became the friends of 
 God, and obtained the reward of eternal life, 
 as the blessed Apostle chants: "For which 
 cause I delight myself in my infirmities, in 
 reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in 
 distresses for Christ. For when I am weak, 
 then I am strong, for power is made perfect in 
 infirmity." 8 And therefore those who are 
 exalted with the greatest riches and honours 
 and powers of this world, should not be 
 deemed to have secured their chief good out 
 of them (for this is shown to consist only in 
 virtue) but only something indifferent, because 
 just as to good men who use them well and 
 properly they will be found to be useful and 
 convenient (for they afford them opportunities 
 for good works and fruits which shall endure 
 to eternal life), so to those who wrongfully 
 abuse their wealth, they are useless and out 
 of place, and furnish occasions of sin and 
 death. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 How evil cannot be forced on any one by another against 
 his will. 
 
 Preserving then these distinctions clear 
 and fixed, and knowing that there is nothing 
 good except virtue alone, and nothing bad 
 except sin alone and separation from God, let 
 us now carefully consider whether God ever 
 allows evil to be forced on his saints either 
 by Himself or by some one else. And you 
 will certainly find that this never happens. 
 For another can never possibly force the evil 
 of sin upon anyone, who does not consent and 
 who resists, but only on one who admits it 
 into himself through sloth and the corrupt 
 desire of his heart. Finally, when the devil 
 having exhausted all his wicked devices had 
 tried to force upon the blessed Job this evil of 
 sin, and had not only stripped him of all his 
 worldly goods, but also after that terrible and 
 
 7 Cf. S. Luke xvi. 20. 
 
 8 2 Cor. xii. 9, 10. 
 
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 utterly unlooked for calamity of bereavement 
 through the death of his seven children, had 
 heaped upon him dreadful wounds and intol- 
 erable tortures from the crown of his head to 
 the sole of his foot, he tried in vain to fasten 
 on him the stain of sin, because he remained 
 steadfast through it all, never brought him- 
 self to consent to blasphemy. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 An objection, how God Himself can be said to create evil. 
 
 Germanus : We often read in holy Scrip- 
 ture that God has created evil or brought it 
 upon men, as is this passage : " There is none 
 beside Me. I am the Lord, and there is none 
 else : I form the light and create darkness, I 
 make peace, and create evil." * And again: 
 " Shall there be evil in a city which the Lord 
 hath not done ? " 2 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The answer to the question proposed. 
 
 Theodore: Sometimes holy Scripture is 
 wont by an improper use of terms to use 
 "evils" for "affliction;" not that these are 
 properly and in their nature evils, but because 
 they are imagined to be evils by those on whom 
 they are brought for their good. For when 
 divine judgment is reasoning with men it 
 must speak with the language and feelings of 
 men. For when a doctor for the sake of 
 health with good reason either cute or cauter- 
 izes those who are suffering from the inflam- 
 mation of ulcers, it is considered an evil by 
 those who have to bear it. Nor are the spur 
 and the whip pleasant to a restive horse. 
 Moreover all chastisement seems at the 
 moment to be a bitter thing to those who 
 are chastised, as the Apostle says : " Now all 
 chastisement for the present indeed seemeth 
 not to bring with it joy but sorrow; but after- 
 wards it will yield to them that are exercised 
 by it most peaceable fruits of righteousness," 
 and "whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, 
 and scourgeth every son whom He receiveth : 
 for what son is there whom the father doth 
 not correct ?" 3 And so evils are sometimes 
 wont to stand for afflictions, as where we 
 read: "And God repented of the evil which 
 He had said that He would do to them and 
 
 1 Is. xlv. 6, 7. 
 
 2 Amos iii. 6. 
 
 3 Heb. xii. 6-11. 
 
 He did it not." 4 And again : " For Thou, Lord, 
 are gracious and merciful, patient and very 
 merciful and ready to repent of the evil," 5 i.e., 
 of the sufferings and losses which Thou art 
 forced to bring upon us as the reward of our 
 sins. And another prophet, knowing that these 
 are profitable to some men, and certainly not 
 through any jealousy of their safety, but with 
 an eye to their good, prays thus: "Add evils 
 to them, O Lord, add evils to the haughty 
 ones of the earth;" 6 and the Lord Himself 
 says " Lo, I will bring evils upon them, " 7 i.e., 
 sorrows, and losses, with which they shall 
 for the present be chastened for their soul's 
 health, and so shall be at length driven to 
 return and hasten back to Me whom in their 
 prosperity they scorned. And so that these 
 are originally evil we cannot possibly assert: 
 for to many they conduce to their good and 
 offer the occasions of eternal bliss, and 
 therefore (to return to the question raised) 
 all those things, which are thought to be 
 brought upon us as evils by our enemies or 
 by any other people, should not be counted as 
 evils, but as things indifferent. For in the 
 end they will not be what he thinks, who 
 brought them upon us in his rage and fury, 
 but what he makes them who endures them. 
 And so when death has been brought upon a 
 saint, we ought not to think that an evil has 
 happened to him but a thing indifferent; 
 which is an evil to a wicked man, while to 
 the good it is rest and freedom from evils. 
 " For death is rest to a man whose way is 
 hidden." 8 And so a good man does not suffer 
 any loss from it, because he suffers nothing 
 strange, but by the crime of an enemy he 
 only receives (and not without the reward of 
 eternal life) that which would have happened 
 to him in the course of nature, and pays the 
 debt of man's death, which must be paid by 
 an inevitable law, with the interest of a most 
 fruitful passion, and the recompense of a 
 great reward. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A question whether the man who causes the death of a good 
 man is guilt}-, if the good man is the gainer by his death. 
 
 Germanus: Well then, if a good man does 
 not only suffer no evil by being killed, but 
 actually gains a reward from his suffering, 
 how can we accuse the man who has done 
 him no harm but good by killing him? 
 
 * Jonah iii. 10 (LXX.). 
 Joel ii. 13 (LXX^. 
 6 Is. xxvi. 15 (LXX). 
 
 7 Jer. xi. 11. 
 
 8 Job iii. 23 (LXX). 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEODORE. 
 
 355 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The answer to the foregoing question. 
 
 Theodore : We are talking about the actual 
 qualities of things good and bad, and what 
 we call indifferent; and not about the charac- 
 ters of the men who do these things. Nor 
 ought any bad or wicked man to go unpun- 
 ished because his evil deed was not able to 
 do harm to a good man. For the endurance 
 and goodness of a righteous man are of no 
 profit to the man who is the cause of his 
 death or suffering, but only to him who 
 patiently endures what is inflicted on him. 
 And so the one is justly punished for his 
 savage cruelty, because he meant to injure 
 him, while the other nevertheless suffers no 
 evil, because in the goodness of his heart he 
 patiently endures his temptation and suffer- 
 ings, and so causes all those things, which 
 were inflicted upon him with evil intent, to 
 turn out to his advantage, and to conduce to 
 the bliss of eternal life. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The case of Job who was tempted by the devil; and of the 
 Lord who was betrayed by Judas: and how prosperity as 
 well as adversity is advantageous to a good man. 
 
 For the patience of Job did not bring any 
 gain to the devil, through making him a 
 better man by his temptations, but only to 
 Job himself who endured them bravely; nor 
 was Judas granted freedom from eternal 
 punishment, because his act of betrayal con- 
 tributed to the salvation of mankind. For 
 we must not regard the result of the deed, 
 but the purpose of the doer. Wherefore we 
 should always cling to this assertion; viz., 
 that evil cannot be brought upon a man by 
 another, unless a man has admitted it by his 
 sloth or feebleness of heart: as the blessed 
 Apostle confirms this opinion of ours in a 
 verse of Scripture : " But we know that all 
 things work together for good to them that 
 love God." 1 But by saying " All things work 
 together for good," he includes everything 
 alike, not only things fortunate, but also 
 those which seem to be misfortunes : through 
 which the Apostle tells us in another place 
 that he himself has passed, when he says : 
 " By the armour of righteousness on the right 
 hand and on the left," i.e., "Through honour 
 and dishonour, through evil report and good 
 
 1 Rom. viii. 28. 
 
 report, as deceivers and yet true, as sorrowful 
 but always rejoicing, as needy and yet enrich- 
 ing many:" 2 All those things then which 
 are considered fortunate, and are called 
 those "on the right hand," which the holy 
 Apostle designates by the terms honour and 
 good report; and those too which are counted 
 misfortunes, which he clearly means by dis- 
 honour and evil report, and which he de- 
 scribes as ''on the left hand," become to the 
 perfect man "the armour of righteousness," if 
 when they are brought upon him, he bears 
 them bravely, because, as he fights with 
 these, and uses those very weapons with 
 which he seems to be attacked, and is pro- 
 tected by them as by bow and sword and 
 stout shield against those who bring these 
 things upon him, he secures the advantage 
 of his patience and goodness, and obtains a 
 grand triumph of steadfastness by means of 
 those very weapons of his enemies which are 
 hurled against him to kill him ; and if only 
 he is not elated by success or cast down by 
 failure, but ever marches straightforward on 
 the king's highway, and does not swerve from 
 that state of tranquillity as it were to the 
 right hand, when joy overcomes him, nor let 
 himself be driven so to speak to the left hand, 
 when misfortunes overwhelm him, and sor- 
 row holds sway. For " Much peace have they 
 that love Thy law, and to them there is no 
 stumbling block." 3 But of those who shift 
 about according .to the character and changes 
 of the several chances which happen to them, 
 we read: "But a fool will change like the 
 moon." 4 For just as it is said of men who 
 are perfect and wise : " To them that love God 
 all things work together for good," 5 so of 
 those who are weak and foolish it is declared 
 that "everything is against a foolish man," 6 
 for he gets no profit out of prosperity, nor 
 does adversity make him any better. For it 
 requires as much goodness to bear sorrows 
 bravely, as to be moderate in prosperity: and 
 it is quite certain that one who fails in one of 
 these, will not bear up under the other. But 
 a man can be more easily overcome by pros- 
 perity than by misfortunes : for these some- 
 times restrain men against their will and 
 make them humble and through most salutary 
 sorrow cause them to sin less, and make them 
 better: while prosperity puffs up the mind 
 with soothing but most pernicious flatteries 
 and when men are secure in the prospect of 
 their happiness dashes them to the ground 
 with a still greater destruction. 
 
 - 2 Cor. vi. 7-10. 
 
 3 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 165. 
 
 i Ecclus. xxvii. 11. 
 
 5 Rom. viii. 28. 
 
 e Prov. xiv. 7 (LXX.). 
 
356 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Of the excellence of the perfect man who is figuratively 
 spoken of as ambidextrous. 
 
 Those are they then who are figurately 
 spoken of in holy Scripture as d/jqioTsgodiHioi', 
 i.e., ambidextrous, as Ehud is described in 
 the book of Judges "who used either hand as 
 the right 1 hand." And this power we also 
 can spiritually acquire, if by making a right 
 and proper use of those things which are for- 
 tunate, and which seem to be "on the right 
 hand," as well as of those which are unfortu- 
 nate and as we call it "on the left hand," we 
 make them both belong to the right side, so 
 that whatever turns up proves in our case, to 
 use the words of the Apostle, " the armour of 
 righteousness." For we see that the inner 
 man consists of two parts, and if I may be 
 allowed the expression, two hands, nor can 
 any of the saints do without that which we 
 call the left hand: but by means of it the per- 
 fection of virtue is shown, where a man by 
 skilful use can turn both hands into right 
 hands. And in order to make our meaning 
 clearer, the saint has for his right hand his 
 spiritual achievements, in which he is found 
 when with fervent spirit he gets the better of 
 his desires and passions, when he is free from 
 all attacks of the devil, and without any effort 
 or difficulty rejects and cuts off all carnal sins, 
 when he is exalted above the earth and regards 
 all things present and earthly as light smoke 
 or vain shadows, and scorns them as what is 
 about to vanish away, when with an overflow- 
 ing heart he not only longs most intensely 
 for the future but actually sees it the more 
 clearly, when he is more effectually fed on 
 spiritual contemplations, when he sees hea- 
 venly mysteries more brightly laid open to 
 him, when he pours forth his prayers to God 
 with greater purity and readiness, when he is 
 so inflamed with fervour of spirit as to pass 
 with the utmost readiness of soul to things 
 invisible and eternal, so as scarcely to believe 
 that he any longer remains in the flesh. He 
 has also a left hand, when he is entangled in 
 the toils of temptation, when he is inflamed 
 with the heat of desire for carnal lusts, when 
 he is set on fire by emotion towards rage and 
 anger, when he is overcome by being puffed 
 up with pride or vainglory, when he is op- 
 pressed by a sorrow that worketh death, when 
 he is shaken to pieces by the contrivances and 
 attacks of accidie, and when he has lost all 
 spiritual warmth, and grows indifferent with 
 a sort of lukewarmness and unreasonable grief 
 
 1 Judg. iii. 15, where the LXX. has aix<f>oTepoSi^iov. 
 
 so that not only is he forsaken by good and 
 kindling thoughts, but acually Psalms, prayer, 
 reading, and retirement in his cell all pall 
 upon him, and all virtuous exercises seem by 
 an intolerable and horrible loathing to have 
 lost their savour. And when a monk is 
 troubled in this way, then he knows that he 
 is attacked " on the left hand. ' ' Anyone there- 
 fore who is not at all puffed up through the 
 aid of vainglory by any of those things on 
 the right hand which we have mentioned, and 
 who struggles manfully against those on the 
 left hand, and does not yield to despair and 
 give in, but rather on the other hand seizes 
 the armour of patience to practise himself in 
 virtue — this man can use both hands as right 
 hands, and in each action he proves trium- 
 phant and carries off the prize of victory from 
 that condition on the left hand as well as that 
 on the right. Such, we read, was the reward 
 which the blessed Job obtained who was cer- 
 tainly crowned (for a victory) on the right 
 hand, when he was the father of seven sons 
 and walked as a rich and wealthy man, and 
 yet offered daily sacrifices to the Lord for their 
 purification, in his anxiety that they might 
 prove acceptable and dear to God rather than 
 to himself, when his gates stood open to every 
 stranger, when he was " feet to lame and eyes 
 to blind," 2 when the shoulders of the suffer- 
 ing were kept warm by the wool of his sheep, 
 when he was a father to orphans and a husband 
 to widows, when he did not even in his heart 
 rejoice at the fall of his enemy. And again 
 it was the same man who with still greater 
 virtue triumphed over adversity on the left 
 hand, when deprived in one moment of his 
 seven sons he was not as a father overcome 
 with bitter grief but as a true servant of God 
 rejoiced in the will of his Creator. When 
 instead of being a wealthy man he became 
 poor, naked instead of rich, pining away 
 instead of strong, despised and contemptible 
 instead of famous and honourable, and yet 
 preserved his fortitude of mind unshaken, 
 when, lastly, bereft of all his wealth and sub- 
 stance he took up his abode on the dunghill, 
 and like some stern executioner of his own 
 body scraped with a potsherd the matter that 
 broke out, and plunging his fingers deep into 
 his wounds dragged out on every side masses 
 of worms from his limbs. And in all this he 
 never fell into despair and blasphemy, nor 
 murmured at all against his Creator. More- 
 over also so little was he overcome by such a 
 weight of bitter temptations that the cloak 
 which out of all his former property remained 
 to cover his body, and which alone could be 
 
 2 Job xxix. 15. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEODORE. 
 
 357 
 
 saved from destruction by the devil because 
 he was clothed with it, he rent and cast off, 
 and covered with it his nakedness which he 
 voluntarily endured, which the terrible robber 
 had brought upon him. The hair of his head 
 too, which was the only thing left untouched 
 out of all the remains of his former glory, he 
 shaved and cast to his tormentor, and cutting 
 off even that which his savage foe had left to 
 him he exulted over him and mocked him 
 with that celestial cry of his: "If we have 
 received good at the hand of the Lord, should 
 we not also receive evil ? Naked came I out 
 of my mother's womb, and naked shall I 
 return thither. The Lord gave and the Lord 
 hath taken away ; as it hath pleased the Lord, 
 so is it done; blessed be the name of the 
 Lord." l I should also with good reason call 
 Joseph ambidextrous, as in prosperity he was 
 very dear to his father, affectionate to his 
 brethren, acceptable to God; and in adversity 
 was chaste, and faithful to the Lord, in prison 
 most kind to the prisoners, forgetful of wrongs, 
 generous to his enemies; and to his brethren 
 who were envious of him and as far as lay in 
 their powers, his murderers, he proved not 
 only affectionate but actually munificent. 
 These men then and those who are like them 
 are rightly termed uucporeQodi^iov^ L e. , ambidex- 
 trous. For they can use either hand as the 
 right hand, and passing through those things 
 which the Apostle enumerates can fairly say: 
 " Through the armour of righteousness on the 
 right hand and on the left, through honour and 
 dishonour, through evil report and good report 
 etc. " And of this right and left hand Solomon 
 speaks as follows in the Song of songs, in the 
 person of the bride : " His left hand is under 
 my head, and his right hand shall embrace 
 me." 2 And while this passage shows that 
 both are useful, yet it puts one under the 
 head, because misfortunes ought to be subject 
 to the control of the heart, since they are only 
 useful for this; viz., to train us for a time 
 and discipline us for our salvation and make 
 us perfect in the matter of patience. But the 
 right hand she hopes will ever cling to her to 
 cherish her and hold her fast in the blessed 
 embrace of the Bridegroom, and unite her to 
 him indissolubly. We shall then be ambi- 
 dextrous, when neither abundance nor want 
 affects us, and when the former does not entice 
 us to the luxury of a dangerous carelessness, 
 while the latter does not draw us to despair, 
 and complaining ; but when, giving thanks to 
 God in either case alike, we gain one and the 
 same advantage out of good and bad fortune. 
 And such that truly ambidextrous man, the 
 
 Job ii. 
 
 2 Cant. ii. 6. 
 
 teacher of the Gentiles, testifies that he him- 
 self was, when he says : " For I have learnt in 
 whatsoever state I am, to be content therewith. 
 I know both how to be brought low and I 
 know how to abound : everywhere and in all 
 things I am instructed both to be full and to 
 be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. 
 I can do all things in Him which strength- 
 ened me." 3 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Of the two kinds of trials, which come upon us in a three- 
 fold way. 
 
 Well then, though we say that trial is 
 twofold, i.e., in prosperity and in adversity, 
 yet you must know that all men are tried in 
 three different ways. Often for their proba- 
 tion, sometimes for their improvement, and 
 in some cases because their sins deserve it. 
 For their probation indeed, as we read that 
 the blessed Abraham and Job and many of 
 the saints endured countless tribulations; or 
 this which is said to the people in Deutero- 
 nomy by Moses : " And thou shalt remember all 
 the way through which the Lord thy God hath 
 brought thee for forty years through the desert, 
 to afflict thee and to prove thee, and that the 
 things that were in thy heart might be made 
 known, whether thou wouldst keep His Com- 
 mandments or no : " 4 and this which we find in 
 the Psalms : " I proved thee at the waters of 
 strife." 5 To Job also: "Thinkest thou that 
 I have spoken for any other cause than that 
 thou mightest be seen to be righteous ? " 6 But 
 for improvement, when God chastens his 
 righteous ones for some small and venial sins, 
 or to raise them to a higher state of purity, 
 and delivers them over to various trials, that 
 He may purge away all their unclean thoughts, 
 and, to use the prophet's word, the "dross," 
 which he sees to have collected in their secret 
 parts, and may thus transmit them like pure 
 gold, to the judgment to come, as He allows 
 nothing to remain in them for the fire of judg- 
 ment to discover when hereafter it searches 
 them with penal torments according to this 
 saying : " Many are the tribulations of the 
 righteous." 7 And: "My son, neglect not the 
 discipline of the Lord, neither be thou wearied 
 whilst thou art rebuked by Him. For whom 
 the Lord loveth He chastiseth, and scourgeth 
 every son whom He receiveth. For what son 
 is there whom the father doth not correct? 
 But if ye are without chastisement, whereof 
 all are partakers, then are ye bastards, and 
 
 3 Phil. iv. 1 1— 13. 
 
 4 Deut. viii. 2. 
 
 5 Ps. lxxx. (lxxxi.) 7. 
 
 6 Job xl. 3 (LXX.). 
 
 7 Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 19. 
 
358 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 not sons." 1 And in the Apocalypse: "Those 
 whom I love, I reprove and chasten."- To 
 whom under the figure of Jerusalem the follow- 
 ing words are spoken by Jeremiah, in the per- 
 son of God: "For I will utterly consume all 
 the nations among which I scattered thee : but 
 I will not utterly consume thee: but I will 
 chastise thee in judgment, that thou may- 
 est not seem to thyself innocent." 3 And 
 for this life-giving cleansing David prays 
 when he says: " Prove me, O Lord, and try 
 me; turn my reins and my heart." 4 Isaiah 
 also, well knowing the value of this trial, 
 says "O Lord, correct us but with judgment: 
 not in Thine anger." 5 And again: " I will give 
 thanks to thee, O Lord, for thou wast angry 
 with me : Thy wrath is turned away, and Thou 
 hast comforted me." 6 But as a punishment 
 for sins, the blows of trial are inflicted, as 
 where the Lord threatens that He will send 
 plagues upon the people of Israel: "I will 
 send the teeth of beasts upon them, with the 
 fury t of creatures that trail upon the ground : " 7 
 and " In vain have I struck your children : 
 they have not received correction. " 8 In the 
 Psalms also : " Many are the scourges of the 
 sinners : " 9 and in the gospel : " Behold thou 
 art made whole : now sin no more, lest a worse 
 thing happen unto thee." 10 We find, it is 
 true, a fourth way also in which we know on 
 the authority of Scripture that some sufferings 
 are brought upon us simply for the manifes- 
 tation of the glory of God and His works, 
 according to these words of the gospel : 
 " Neither did this man sin nor his parents, but 
 that the works of God might be manifested in 
 him : " u and again : " This sickness is not unto 
 death, but for the glory of God that the Son of 
 God may be glorified by it." 12 There are also 
 other sorts of vengeance, with which some 
 who have overpassed the bounds of wicked- 
 ness are smitten in this life, as we read that 
 Dathan and Abiram or Korah were punished, 
 or above all, those of whom the Apostle 
 speaks : " Wherefore God gave them up to vile 
 passions and a reprobate mind:" 13 and this 
 must be counted worse than all other punish- 
 ments. For of these the Psalmist says : " They 
 are not in the labours of men; neither shall 
 they be scourged like other men." 14 For they 
 
 I Heb. xii. 5-S. 
 - Rev. iii. 19. 
 
 3 Jer. xxx. 1 r. 
 
 * Ps. xxv. (xxvi.) 2. 
 
 6 The passage is not from Isaiah, but from Jer. x. 24. 
 G Is. xii. 1. 
 
 7 Deut. xxxii. 24. 
 
 8 Jer. ii. 30. 
 
 9 Ps. xxxi. (xxxii.) 10. 
 
 10 S. John v. 14. 
 
 II S. John ix. 3. 
 12 S. John xi. 4. 
 J 3 Rom. i. 26, 28. 
 
 J * Ps. lxxii. (lxxiii.) 5. 
 
 are not worthy of being healed by the visita- 
 tion of the Lord which gives life, and by 
 plagues in this world, as " in despair they have 
 given themselves over to lasciviousness, unto 
 the working of all error unto uncleanness," 15 
 and as by hardening their hearts, and by 
 growing accustomed and used to sin they have 
 got beyond cleansing in this brief life and 
 punishment in the present world : men, who 
 are thus reproved by the holy word of the 
 prophet : " I destroyed some of you, as God 
 destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah, and you 
 were as a firebrand plucked out of the burn- 
 ing: yet you returned not to Ale, saith the 
 Lord," 16 and Jeremiah: "I have killed and 
 destroyed thy people, and yet they are not 
 returned from their ways." 17 And again: 
 "Thou hast smitten them and they have not 
 grieved: Thou hast bruised them and they 
 refused to receive correction: they have made 
 their faces harder than the rock, they have 
 refused to return." 18 And the prophet seeing 
 that all the remedies of this life will have 
 been applied in vain for their healing, and 
 already as it were despairing of their life, 
 declares: "The bellows have failed in the. fire, 
 the founder hath melted in vain : for their 
 wicked deeds are not consumed. Call them 
 reprobate silver, for the Lord hath rejected 
 them." 19 And the Lord thus laments that to 
 no purpose has He applied this salutary 
 cleansing by fire to those who are hardened 
 in their sins, in the person of Jerusalem 
 crusted all over with the rust of her sins, 
 when He says: "set it empty upon burning 
 coals, that it may be hot, and the brass thereof 
 may be melted; and let the filth of it be 
 melted in the midst thereof. Great pains 
 have been taken, and the great rust thereof 
 is not gone out, no not even by fire. Thy un- 
 cleanness is execrable: because I desired to 
 cleanse thee, and thou art not cleansed from 
 thy filthiness. " 2J Wherefore like a skilful 
 physician, who has tried all saving cures, and 
 sees there is no remedy left which can be 
 applied to their disease, the Lord is in a 
 manner overcome by their iniquities and is 
 obliged to desist from that kindly chastise- 
 ment of His, and so denounces them saying: 
 " I will no longer be angry with thee, and thy 
 jealousy has departed* from thee.""- 1 But of 
 others, whose heart has not grown hard by 
 continuance in sin, and who do not stand in 
 need of that most severe and (if I may so call 
 it) caustic remedy, but for whose salvation 
 the instruction of the life-giving word is suffi- 
 
 15 Eph. iv. k 
 10 Amos iv. i 
 
 17 Jer. xv. 7. 
 
 18 Jer. v. 3. 
 
 lu Jer. vi. 29, 30. 
 -° Ezek. xxiv. 11 
 21 Ezek. xvi. 42. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEODORE. 
 
 359 
 
 cient — -of them it is said: "I will improve 
 them by hearing of their suffering." 1 We 
 are well aware that there are other reasons 
 also of the punishment and vengeance which 
 is inflicted on those who have sinned grie- 
 vously — 'not to expiate their crimes, nor wipe 
 out the deserts of their sins, but that the li- 
 ving may be put in fear and amend their lives. 
 And these we plainly see were inflicted on 
 Jeroboam the son of Nebat, and Baasha the 
 son of Ahiah, and Ahab and Jezebel, when the 
 Divine reproof thus declares: "Behold, I will 
 bring evil upon thee, and will cut down thy 
 posterity, and will kill of Ahab every male, 
 and him that is shut up and the last in Israel. 
 And I will make thy house like the house of 
 Jeroboam the son of Nebat and like the 
 house of Baasha the son of Ahiah : for that 
 which thou hast done to provoke Me to anger, 
 and for making Israel to sin. The dogs also 
 shall eat Jezebel in the field of Jezreel. If 
 Ahab die in the city, the dogs shall eat him: 
 but if he die in the field the birds of the air 
 shall eat him," 2 and this which is threatened 
 as the greatest threat of all: "Thy dead body 
 shall not be brought to the sepulchre of thy 
 fathers." 3 It was not that this short and 
 momentary punishment would suffice to purge 
 away the blasphemous inventions of him who 
 first made the golden calves and led to the 
 lasting sin of the people, and their wicked 
 separation from the Lord, — or the countless 
 and disgraceful profanities of those others, 
 but it was that by their example the fear of 
 those punishments which they dreaded might 
 fall on others also, who, as they thought little 
 of the future or even disbelieved in it alto- 
 gether, would only be moved by consideration 
 of things present; and that owing to this 
 proof of His severity they might acknowledge 
 that there is no lack of care for the affairs of 
 men, and for their daily doings, in the majesty 
 of God on high, and so through that which 
 they greatly feared might the more clearly see 
 in God the rewarder of all their deeds. We 
 find, it is true, that even for lighter faults 
 some men have received the same sentence of 
 death in this world, as that with which those 
 men were punished who, as we said before, 
 were the authors of a blasphemous falling 
 away: as happened in the case of the man who 
 gathered sticks on the Sabbath, 4 and in that 
 of Ananias and Sapphira, who through the 
 sin of unbelief kept back some portion of 
 their goods: not that the guilt of their sins 
 was equal, but because they were the first 
 found out in a new kind of transgression, and 
 
 1 Hos. vii. 12 (LXX.). 
 1 i Kings xxi. 21-24. 
 
 s 1 Kings xiii. 22. 
 4 Cf. Numb. xv. 32. 
 
 so it was right that as they had given to others 
 an example of sin, so also they should give 
 them an example of punishment and of fear, 
 that anyone, who should attempt to copy them, 
 might know that (even if his punishment were 
 postponed in this life) he would be punished 
 in the same way that they were at the trial 
 of the judgment hereafter. And, since in our 
 desire to run through the different kinds of 
 trials and punishments we seem to have 
 wandered somewhat from our subject, on 
 which we were saying that the perfect man will 
 always remain steadfast in either kind of 
 trial, now let us return to it once more. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 How the upright man ought to be like a stamp not of wax but 
 of hard steel. 
 
 And so the mind of the upright man ought 
 not to be like wax or any other soft material 
 which always yields to the shape of what 
 presses on it, and is stamped with its form 
 and impress and keeps it until it takes an- 
 other shape by having another seal stamped 
 upon it ; and so it results that it never retains 
 its own form but is turned and twisted about 
 to correspond to whatever is pressed upon it. 
 But he should rather be like some stamp of 
 hard steel, that the mind may always keep its 
 proper form and shape inviolate, and may 
 stamp and imprint on everything which occurs 
 to it the marks of its own condition, while 
 upon it itself nothing that happens can leave 
 any mark. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A question whether the mind can constantly continue in one 
 and the same condition. 
 
 Germanus : But can our mind constantly 
 preserve its condition unaltered, and always 
 continue in the same state? 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The answer to the point raised by the questioner. 
 
 Theodore: It is needful that one must 
 either, as the Apostle says, "be renewed in 
 the spirit of the mind," 5 and daily advance 
 by " pressing forward to those things which are 
 before," 6 or, if one neglects to do this, the 
 sure result will be to go back, and become 
 
 5 Eph. iv. 23. 
 
 Phil. iii. 13. 
 
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 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 worse and worse. And therefore the mind 
 cannot possibly remain in one and the same 
 state. Just as when a man, by pulling hard, 
 is trying to force a boat against the stream of 
 a strong current he must either stem the rush 
 of the torrent by the force of his arms, and 
 so mount to what is higher up, or letting 
 his hands slacken be whirled headlong down 
 stream. Wherefore it will be a clear proof of 
 our failure if we find that we have gained 
 nothing more, nor should we doubt but that 
 we have altogether gone back, whenever we 
 find that we have not advanced upwards, 
 because, as I said, the mind of man cannot 
 possibly continue in the same condition, nor 
 so long as he is in the flesh will any of the 
 saints ever reach the height of all virtues, so 
 that they continue unalterable. For some- 
 thing must either be added to them or taken 
 away from them, and in no creature can there 
 be such perfection, as not to be subject to 
 the feeling of change; as we read in the book 
 of Job : " What is man that he should be with- 
 out spot, and he that is born of a woman that 
 he should appear just? Behold among His 
 saints none is unchangeable, and the heavens 
 are not pure in His sight." x For we confess 
 that God only is unchangeable, who alone is 
 thus addressed by the prayer of the holy 
 prophet " But Thou art the same," 2 and who 
 says of Himself "I am God, and I change 
 not," 3 because He alone is by nature always 
 good, always full and perfect, and one to 
 whom nothing can ever be added, or from 
 whom nothing can be taken away. And so 
 we ought always with incessant care and 
 anxiety to give ourselves up to the acquire- 
 ment of virtue, and constantly to occupy our- 
 selves with the practice of it, lest, if we cease 
 to go forward, the result should immediately 
 be a going back. For, as we said, the mind 
 cannot continue in one and the same condi- 
 tion, I mean without receiving addition to or 
 diminution of its good qualities. For to fail to 
 gain new ones, is to lose them, because when 
 the desire of making progress ceases, there the 
 danger of going back is present. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 How one loses by going away from one's cell. 
 
 And so we ought always to remain shut up 
 in our cell. For whenever a man has strayed 
 from it and returns fresh to it and begins 
 again to live there he will be upset and dis- 
 
 turbed. For if he has let it go he cannot 
 without difficulty and pains recover that fixed 
 purpose of mind, which he had gained when 
 he remained in his cell ; and as through this 
 he has gone back, he will not think anything 
 of the advance which he has missed, and which 
 he would have secured if he had not allowed 
 himself to leave his cell, but he will rather 
 congratulate himself if he finds that he has 
 regained that condition from which he fell 
 away. For just as time once lost and gone 
 cannot any more be recovered, so neither can 
 those advantages which have been missed be 
 restored : for whatever earnest purpose of the 
 mind there may be afterwards, it will be the 
 profit of the day then present, and the gain 
 that belongs to the time that then is, and will 
 not make up for the gain that has been once 
 for all lost. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 How even celestial powers above are capable of change. 
 
 But that even the powers above are, as we 
 said, subject to change is shown by those who 
 fell from their ranks through the fault of a 
 corrupt will. Wherefore we ought not to 
 think that the nature of those is unchangeable, 
 who remain in the blessed condition in which 
 they were created, simply because they were 
 not in like manner led astray to choose the 
 worse part. For it is one thing to have a 
 nature incapable of change, and another 
 thing for a man through the efforts of his vir- 
 tue, and by guarding what is good through the 
 grace of the unchangeable God, to be kept 
 from change. For everything that is secured 
 or preserved by care, can also be lost by care- 
 lessness. And so we read: "Call no man 
 blessed before his death," 4 because so long 
 as a man is still engaged in the struggle, 
 and if I may use the expression, still wrest- 
 ling — even though he generally conquers 
 and carries off many prizes of victory, — yet 
 he can never be free from fear, and from the 
 suspicion of an uncertain issue. And there- 
 fore God alone is called unchangeable and 
 good, as His goodness is not the result of 
 effort, but a natural possession, and so He 
 cannot be anything but good. No virtue then 
 can be acquired by man without the possibility 
 of change, but in order that when it once 
 exists it may be continually preserved, it must 
 be watched over with the same care and dili- 
 gence with which it was acquired. 
 
 1 Job xv. 14, 15. 
 
 2 Ps. ci. (cii.) 27. 
 
 3 Mai. iii. 6. 
 
 i Ecclus. xi. 30. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS. 
 
 361 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 That no one is dashed to the ground by a sudden fall. 
 
 But we must not imagine that anyone slips 
 and comes to grief by a sudden fall, but that 
 he falls by a hopeless collapse either from 
 being deceived by beginning his training 
 badly, or from the good qualities of his soul 
 failing through a long course of carelessness of 
 mind, and so his faults gaining ground upon 
 him little by little. For " loss goeth before 
 destruction, and an evil thought before a 
 fall," * just as no house ever falls to the ground 
 by a sudden collapse, but only when there is 
 some flaw of long standing in the foundation, 
 or when by long continued neglect of its in- 
 mates, what was at first only a little drip finds 
 its way through, and so the protecting walls 
 are by degrees ruined, and in consequence 
 of long standing neglect the gap becomes 
 larger, and break away, and in time the 
 drenching storm and rain pours in like a 
 river: for "by slothfulness a building is cast 
 down, and through the weakness of hands the 
 house shall drop through," 2 And that the same 
 thing happens spiritually to the soul the same 
 
 Solomon thus tells us in other words, when he 
 says: "water dripping drives a man out of the 
 house on a stormy clay." 4 Elegantly then 
 does he compare carelessness of mind to a 
 roof, and to tiles that have not been looked 
 after, through which in the first instance only 
 very slight drippings (so to speak) of the pas- 
 sions make their way to the soul : but if these 
 are not heeded, as being but small and trifling, 
 then the beams of virtues will decay and be car- 
 ried away by a great tempest of sins, through 
 which "on a stormy day," i.e., in the time 
 of temptation, the devil's attack will assail us, 
 and the soul will be driven forth from the 
 abode of virtue, in which, as long as it pre- 
 served all watchful diligence, it had remained 
 as in a house that belonged to it. 
 
 And so when we had heard this, we were 
 so immensely delighted with our spiritual 
 repast, that the mental pleasure with which 
 we were filled by this conference outweighed 
 the sorrow which we had experienced before 
 from the death of the saints. For not only 
 were we instructed in things about which we 
 had been puzzled, but we also learnt from the 
 raising of that question some things, which 
 our understanding had been too small for us 
 to ask about. 
 
 CONFERENCE VII. 
 
 FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS. 
 
 ON INCONSTANCY OF MIND, AND SPIRITUAL WICKEDNESS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 On the chastity of Abbot Serenus. 3 
 
 As we desire to introduce to earnest minds 
 the Abbot Serenus, a man of the greatest 
 holiness and continence, and one who answers 
 like a mirror to his name, whom we admired 
 above all others with peculiar veneration, we 
 think that we only carry out our desire by the 
 attempt to insert his conferences in our book. 
 To this man beyond all other virtues, which 
 shone forth not merely in his actions and 
 manners, but by God's grace in his very look 
 as well, there was granted by a special blessing 
 the gift of continence, so that he never felt 
 himself disturbed even by natural incitements 
 
 1 Prov. xvi. 18 (LXX.). 
 
 2 Eccl. x. 18 (LXX.). 
 
 3 Very little is known of Serenus but what is here told. 
 Vitas Patrum, c. 1. 
 
 Cf. the 
 
 even in sleep. And how it was that by the 
 assistance of God's grace he attained such 
 wondrous purity of the flesh, as it seems 
 beyond the conditions of human nature, I 
 think that I ought first of all to explain. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The question of the aforesaid old man on the state of our 
 thoughts. 
 
 This man then in his prayers by day and 
 night, and in fasts and vigils unweariedly 
 entreated for inward chastity of heart and soul, 
 and seeing that he had obtained what he 
 wished and prayed for, and that all the pas- 
 sions of carnal concupiscence in his heart were 
 dead, was roused as it were by the sweetest 
 taste of purity, and inflamed by his zeal for 
 
 * Prov. xxvii. 15 (LXX.). 
 
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 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 chastity towards a yet more ardent desire, and 
 began to apply himself to stricter fasts and 
 prayers that the mortification of this passion 
 which by God's grace had been granted to his 
 inner man, might be extended also so as to in- 
 clude external purity, to such an extent that 
 he might no longer be affected by any simple 
 and natural movement, such as is excited 
 even in children and infants. And by the ex- 
 perience of the gift he had obtained, which 
 he knew he had secured by no merit of his 
 labours, but by the grace of God, he was the 
 more ardently stimulated to obtain this also 
 in like manner, as he believed that God could 
 much more easily tear up by the roots this in- 
 citement of the flesh, (which even by man's 
 art and skill is sometimes destroyed by potions 
 and remedies or by the use of the knife) since 
 He had of His own free gift conferred that 
 purity of spirit which is a still greater thing, 
 and which cannot be acquired by human efforts 
 and exertions. And when with unceasing 
 supplications and tears he was applying him- 
 self unweariedly to the petition he had com- 
 menced, there came to him an angel in a vision 
 by night, and seemed to open his belly, and to 
 remove from his bowels a sort of fiery fleshly 
 humour, and to cast it away, and restore 
 everything to its place as before; and " lo " he 
 said, " the incitements of your flesh are re- 
 moved, and you may be sure that you have 
 this day obtained that lasting purity of body 
 for which you have faithfully asked." It will 
 be enough thus briefly to have told this of 
 the grace of God which was granted to this 
 famous man in a special way. But I deem it 
 unnecessary to say anything of those virtues 
 which he possessed in common with other 
 good men, for fear lest that particular narra- 
 tive on this man's name might seem to deprive 
 others of that which is specially mentioned 
 of him. Him therefore, as we were inflamed 
 with the greatest eagerness for conference with 
 and instruction from him, we arranged to 
 visit in Lent ; and when he had very quietly 
 inquired of us of the character of our thoughts 
 and the state of our inner man, and what help 
 we had got towards its purity from our long 
 stay in the desert, we approached him with 
 these complaints : 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Our answer on the fickle character of our thoughts. 
 
 The time spent here, and the dwelling in 
 solitude, and meditation, through which you 
 
 think that we ought to have attained perfec- 
 tion of the inner man, has only done this for 
 us; viz., teach us that which we are unable to 
 be, without making us what we are trying to 
 be. Nor do we feel that by this knowledge 
 we have acquired any fixed steadfastness of 
 the purity which we long for, or any strength 
 and firmness ; but only an increase of confu- 
 sion and shame : for though our meditation in 
 all our discipline aims at this in our daily 
 studies, and endeavours from trembling be- 
 ginnings to reach a sure and unwavering skill, 
 and to begin to know something of what 
 originally it knew but vaguely or was alto- 
 gether ignorant of, and by advancing by sure 
 steps (so to speak) towards the condition of 
 that discipline, to habituate itself perfectly 
 to it without any difficulty, I find on the con- 
 trary that while I am struggling in this desire 
 for purity, I have only got far enough to know 
 what I cannot be. And hence I feel that 
 nothing but trouble results to me from all this 
 contrition of heart, so that matter for tears is 
 never wanting, and yet I do not cease to be 
 what I ought not to be. And so what is the 
 good of having learnt what is best, if it cannot 
 be attained even when known ? for when Ave 
 have been feeling that the aim of our heart 
 was directed towards what we purposed, in- 
 sensibly the mind returns to its previous wan- 
 dering thoughts and slips back with a more 
 violent rush, and is taken up with daily dis- 
 tractions and incessantly drawn away by num- 
 berless things that take it captive, so that we 
 almost despair of the improvement which we 
 long for, and all these observances seem use- 
 less. Since the mind which every moment 
 wanders off vaguely, when it is brought back 
 to the fear of God or spiritual contemplation, 
 before it is established in it, darts off and 
 strays ; and when we have been roused and 
 have discovered that it has wandered from the 
 purpose set before it, and want to recall it to 
 the meditation from which it has strayed, and 
 to bind it fast with the firmest purpose of 
 heart, as if with chains, while we are making 
 the attempt it slips away from the inmost 
 recesses of the heart swifter than a snake. 
 Wherefore we being inflamed by daily exer- 
 cises of this kind, and yet not seeing that we 
 gain from them any strength and stability in 
 heart are overcome and in despair driven to 
 this opinion; viz., to believe that it is from no 
 fault of our own but from a fault of our nature 
 that these wanderings of mind are found in 
 mankind. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS. 
 
 36; 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The discourse of the old man on the state of the soul and its 
 excellence. 
 
 Serenus: It is dangerous to jump to a 
 conclusion and lay down the law hastily on 
 the nature of anything before you have pro- 
 perly discussed the subject and considered its 
 true character. Nor should you, looking only 
 at your own weakness, hazard a conjecture 
 instead of pronouncing a judgment based on 
 the character and value of the practice itself, 
 and others' experience of it. For if anyone, 
 who was ignorant of swimming but knew that 
 the weight of his body could not be supported 
 by water, wished from the proof which his 
 inexperience afforded, to lay down that no 
 one composed of solid flesh could possibly be 
 supported on the liquid element, we ought not 
 therefore to think his opinion a true one, 
 which he seemed to bring forward in accord- 
 ance with his own experience, since this can 
 be shown to be not merely not impossible but 
 actually extremely easily done by others, by 
 the clearest proofs and ocular demonstration. 
 And so the vovg, i.e., the mind, is defined as 
 <xetx[vT]Tog xalnolvxlvrjioc, i.e., ever shifting and 
 very shifting : as it is thus described in the so 
 called wisdom of Solomon in other words : xal 
 yeadeg ov.r\voq ^gldei vovv nolvcpodvTidu, i.e.," And 
 the earthly tabernacle weigheth down the 
 mind that museth on many things." l This 
 then in accordance with its nature can never 
 remain idle, but unless provision is made 
 where it may exercise its motions and have 
 what will continually occupy it, it must by 
 its own fickleness wander about and stray 
 over all kinds of things until, accustomed by 
 long practice and daily use — in which you 
 say that you have toiled without result — it 
 tries and learns what food for the memory it 
 ought to prepare, toward which it may bring 
 back its unwearied flight and acquire strength 
 for remaining, and thus may succeed in dri- 
 ving away the hostile suggestion of the enemy 
 by which it is distracted, and in persisting in 
 that state and condition which it yearns for. 
 We ought not then to ascribe this wandering 
 inclination of our heart either to human nature 
 or to God its Creator. For it is a true state- 
 ment of Scripture, that " God made man up- 
 right; but they themselves found out many 
 thoughts" 2 The character of these then de- 
 pends on us ourselves, for it says "a good 
 thought comes near to those that know it, but 
 a prudent man will find it." 3 For where any- 
 
 1 Wisdom ix. 15. - Eccl. vii. 29 (LXX.). 
 
 ' 3 Prov. xix. 7 (LXX.). 
 
 thing is subject to our prudence and industry so 
 that it can be found out, there if.it is not found 
 out, we ought certainly to set it down to our own 
 laziness or carelessness and not to the fault of 
 our nature. And with this meaning the Psalm- 
 ist also is in agreement, when he says : " Blessed 
 is the man whose help is from Thee : in his 
 heart he hath disposed his ascents." 4 You see 
 then that it lies in our power to dispose in 
 our hearts either ascents, i.e., thoughts that 
 belong to God, or desce?its ; viz., those that sink 
 down to carnal and earthly things. And if 
 this was not in our power the Lord would not 
 have rebuked the Pharisees, saying "Why do 
 ye think evil in your hearts? " 5 nor wou. He 
 have given this charge by the prophet, saying: 
 "Take away the ev"il of your thoughts from 
 mine eyes;" and "How long shall wicked 
 thoughts remain in you ? " 6 Nor would the 
 character of them as of our works be taken 
 into consideration in the day of judgment in 
 our case as the Lord threatens by Isaiah : 
 "Lo, I come to gather together their works 
 and thoughts together with all nations and 
 tongues ; " 7 nor would it be right that we 
 should be condemned or defended by their 
 evidence in that terrible and dreadful ex- 
 amination, as the blessed Apostle says: 
 "Their thoughts between themselves accusing 
 or also defending one another, in the day 
 when God shall judge the secrets of men 
 according to my gospel." 8 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 On the perfection of the soul, as drawn from the comparison 
 of the Centurion in the gospel. 
 
 Of this perfect mind then there is an excel- 
 lent figure drawn in the case of the centurion 
 in the gospel ; whose virtue and consistency, 
 owing to which he was not led away by the 
 rush of thoughts, but in accordance with his 
 own judgment either admitted such as were 
 good, or easily drove away those of the oppo- 
 site character, are described in this tropical 
 form : " For I also am a man under authority, 
 having soldiers under me : and I say to this 
 man, Go, and he goeth; and to another, 
 Come, and he cometh ; and to my servant, Do 
 this, and he doeth it." 9 If then we too strive 
 manfully against disturbances and sins and can 
 bring them under our own control and dis- 
 cretion, and fight and destroy the passions in 
 our flesh, and bring under the sway of reason 
 
 4 Ps. lxxxiii. (lxxxiv.) 6. 
 
 5 S. Matt. ix. 4. 
 
 Is. i. 16 ; Jer. iv. 14. 
 
 Is. lxvi. iS. 
 Rom. ii. 15, 16. 
 S. Matt. viii. 9. 
 
3^4 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 the swarm of our thoughts, and drive back 
 from our breast the terrible hosts of the 
 powers opposed to us by the life-giving 
 standard of the Lord's cross, we shall in 
 reward for such triumphs be promoted to the 
 rank of that centurion spiritually understood, 
 who, as we read in Exodus, was mystically 
 pointed to by Moses : " Appoint for thee rulers 
 of thousands, and of hundreds, and of fifties 
 and of tens." 1 And so we too when raised to 
 the height of this dignity shall have the same 
 right and power to command, so that we 
 shall not be carried away by thoughts against 
 our will, but shall be able to continue in and 
 cling to those which spiritually delight us, 
 commanding the evil suggestions to depart, and 
 they will depart, while to' good ones we shall 
 say "Come,' 1 and they will come: and to our 
 servant also, i.e., the body we shall in like 
 manner enjoin what belongs to chastity and 
 continence, and it will serve us without any 
 gainsaying, no longer arousing in us the hos- 
 tile incitements of concupiscence, but showing 
 all subservience to the spirit. And what is 
 the character of the arms of this centurion, 
 and for what use in battle they are, hear the 
 blessed Apostle declaring: "The arms," he 
 says, "of our warfare are not carnal, but 
 mighty to God." He tells us their character; 
 viz., that they are not carnal or weak, but 
 spiritual and mighty to God. Then he next 
 suggests in what struggles they are to be 
 used: "Unto the pulling down of fortifica- 
 tions, purging the thoughts, and ever}'' height 
 that exalteth itself against the knowledge of 
 God, and bringing into captivity every under- 
 standing unto the obedience of Christ, and 
 having in readiness to avenge all disobedience, 
 when your obedience shall be first fulfilled." - 
 And since though useful, it yet belongs to 
 another time to run through these one by one, I 
 only want you to see the different sorts of these 
 arms and their characteristics, as we also ought 
 always to walk with them girt upon us if Ave 
 mean to fight the Lord's battles and to serve 
 among the centurions of the gospel. "Take," 
 he says "the shield of faith, wherewith ye may 
 be able to quench all the fiery darts of the 
 evil one." 3 Faith then is that which inter- 
 cepts the flaming darts of lust, and destroys 
 them by the fear of future judgment, and 
 belief in the heavenly kingdom. "And the 
 breastplate," he says, "of charity." 4 This in- 
 deed is that which going round the vital parts 
 of the breast and protecting what is exposed 
 
 1 Exod. via. 21, 
 
 2 1 Cor. x. 4-6. 
 
 z Eph. vi. 16. 
 4 1 Thess. v. S. 
 
 to the deadly wounds of swelling thoughts, 
 keeps off the blows opposed to it, and does 
 not allow the darts of the devil to penetrate to 
 our inner man. For it "endureth all things, 
 suffereth all things, beareth all things." 5 
 "And for an helmet the hope of salvation." 6 
 The helmet is what protects the head. As 
 then Christ is our head, we ought always 
 in all temptations and persecutions to pro- 
 tect it with the hope of future good things 
 to come, and especially to keep faith in Him 
 whole and undefiled. For it is possible for 
 one who has lost other parts of the body, 
 weak as he may be, still to survive : but even 
 a short time of living is extended to no one 
 without a head. " And the sword of the Spirit 
 which is the word of God." 7 For it is 
 "sharper than any two-edged sword, and pier- 
 cing even to the dividing of soul and spirit, and 
 of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner 
 of the thoughts and intents of the heart : " 8 
 as it divides and cuts off whatever carnal 
 and earthly things it may find in us. And 
 whosoever is protected by these arms will ever 
 be defended from the weapons and ravages of 
 his foes, and will not be led away bound in 
 the chains of his spoilers, a captive and a 
 prisoner, to the hostile land of vain thoughts, 
 nor hear the words of the prophet : " Why art 
 thou grown old in a strange country? " 9 But 
 he will stand like a triumphant conqueror in 
 the land of thoughts which he has chosen. 
 Would you understand too the strength and 
 courage of this centurion, by which he bears 
 these arms of which we spoke before as not 
 carnal but mighty to God? Hear of the se- 
 lection by which the King himself marks and 
 approves brave men when he summons them 
 to the spiritual combat. "'Let," says He, 
 "the weak say that I am strong; " and: "Let 
 him who is the sufferer become a warrior." 10 
 You see then that none but sufferers and 
 weak people can fight the Lord's battles, weak 
 indeed with that weakness, founded on which 
 that centurion of ours in the gospel said with 
 confidence : " For when I am weak, then am I 
 strong," and again, "for strength is made per- 
 fect in weakness." n Of which weakness one 
 of the prophets says: "And he that is weak 
 among them shall be as the house of David. 12 
 For the patient sufferer shall fight these 
 wars, with that patience of which it is said 
 "patience is necessary for you that doing the 
 will of God vou may receive the reward.''" ls 
 
 1 Cor. xiii. 7. 
 1 Thess. v. 8. 
 Eph. vi. 17. 
 Heb. iv. 12. 
 Baruch iii. 11. 
 
 *° Joelii. 10, 11 (LXX.). 
 
 11 2 Cor. xii. q, 10. 
 
 12 Zech. xii. 8. 
 
 13 Heb. x. 36. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS. 
 
 365 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Of perseverance as regards care of the thoughts. 
 
 But we shall find out by our own experience 
 that we can and ought to cling to the Lord if 
 we have our wills mortified and the desires of 
 this world cut off, and we shall be taught by 
 the authority of those who in converse with 
 the Lord say in all confidence : " My soul hath 
 stuck close to Thee ; " and : " I have stuck 
 unto Thy testimonies, OLord;" and: "It is 
 good for me to stick fast to God ; " and : " He 
 who cleaveth to the Lord, is one spirit." x We 
 ought not then to be wearied out by these 
 wanderings of mind and relax from our fer- 
 vour: for "he that tilleth his ground shall be 
 filled with bread: but he that followeth idle- 
 ness shall be filled with poverty." 2 Nor 
 should we be drawn away from being intent 
 on this watchfulness through a dangerous 
 despair, for " in every one who is anxious there 
 is abundance, for he who is pleasant and free 
 from grief will be in want ; " and again : " a 
 man in grief labours for himself, and forcibly 
 brings about his own destruction. " 3 Moreover 
 also : " the kingdom of heaven suffereth vio- 
 lence and the violent take it by force," 4 for 
 no virtue is acquired without effort, nor can 
 anyone attain to that mental stability which 
 he desires without great sorrow of heart, for 
 "man is born to trouble," 5 and in order that 
 he may be able to attain to " the perfect man, 
 the measure of the stature of the fulness of 
 Christ " 6 he must ever be on the watch with 
 still greater intentness, and toil with cease- 
 less carefulness. But to the fulness of this 
 measure no one will ever attain, but one who 
 has considered it beforehand and been trained 
 to it now and has had some foretaste of it 
 while still in this world, and being marked a 
 most precious member of Christ, has possessed 
 in the flesh an earnest of that "joint" 7 by 
 which he can be united to His body : desiring 
 one thing alone, thirsting for but one thing, 
 ever bringing not only his acts but even his 
 thoughts to bear on one thing alone; viz., 
 that he may even now keep as an earnest 
 that which is said of the blessed life of the 
 saints hereafter; viz., that "God may be" to 
 him "all in all." 8 
 
 1 Ps. xlii. (lxiii.) 9; cxviii. (cxix.)3i; lxxi. (lxxiii) 28; 1 Cor. 
 vi. 17. 
 
 2 Prov. xxviii. 19. 
 
 3 Prov. xiv. 23 ; xvi. 26 (LXX.). 
 
 4 S. Matt. xi. 12. 
 
 5 Job v. 7. 
 
 c Er>h. iv. 13. 
 
 7 Ibid. 
 
 8 1 Cor. xv. 2S. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A question on the roving tendency of the mind and the 
 attacks of spiritual wickedness. 
 
 Germanus: Perhaps this tendency of the 
 mind to rove might to some extent be 
 checked were it not that so great a swarm of 
 enemies surrounded it, and ceaselessly urged 
 it toward what it has no wish for, or rather 
 whither the roving character of its own nature 
 drives it. And since such numberless foes, 
 and those so powerful and terrible, surround 
 it, we should not fancy that it was possible for 
 them to be withstood especially by this weak 
 flesh of ours, were we not encouraged to this 
 view by your words as if by oracles from 
 heaven. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The answer on the help of God and the power of free will. 
 
 Serenus : No one who has experienced 
 the conflicts of the inner man, can doubt that 
 our foes are continually lying in wait for us. 
 But we mean that they oppose our progress in 
 such a way that we can think of them as only 
 inciting to evil things and not forcing. But no 
 one could altogether avoid whatever sin they 
 were inclined to imprint upon our hearts, if a 
 strong impulse was present to force (evil) 
 upon us, just as it is to suggest it. Wherefore 
 as there is in them ample power of inciting, 
 so in us there is a supply of power of rejec- 
 tion, and of liberty of acquiescing. But if we 
 are afraid of their power and assaults, we 
 may also claim the protection and assistance 
 of God against them, of which we read : " For 
 greater is He who is in us than he who is in this 
 world: " 9 and His aid fights on our side with 
 much greater power than their hosts fight 
 against us ; for God is not only the suggester of 
 what is good, but the maintainer and insister 
 of it, so that sometimes He draws us towards 
 salvation even against our will and without our 
 knowing it. It follows then that no one can be 
 deceived by the devil but one who has chosen 
 to yield to him the consent of his own will : as 
 Ecclesiastes clearly puts it in these words: 
 " For since there is no gainsaying by those who 
 do evil speedily, therefore the heart of the child- 
 ren of men is filled within them to do evil." 10 
 It is therefore clear that each man goes wrong 
 from this ; viz. , that when evil thoughts assault 
 him he does not immediately meet them with 
 refusal and contradiction, for it says: ''resist 
 him, and he will flee from you." u 
 
 8 1 John iv. 4. 
 
 Eccl. viii. 11 (LXX.). 
 
 S. James iv. 7. 
 
3 66 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A question on the union of the soul with devils. 
 
 Germanus: What, I pray you, is that in- 
 discriminate and common union of the soul 
 with those evil spirits, by which it is possible 
 for them to be (I will not say joined with but) 
 united to it in such a way that they can im- 
 perceptibly talk with it, and find their way 
 into it and suggest to it whatever they want, 
 and incite it to whatever they like, and look 
 into and see its thoughts and movements; 
 and the result is so close a union between them 
 and the soul that it is almost impossible with- 
 out God's grace to distinguish between what 
 results from their instigation, and what from 
 our free will. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The answer how unclean spirits are united with human souls. 
 
 Serenus : It is no wonder that spirit can 
 be imperceptibly joined with spirit, and exer- 
 cise an unseen power of persuasion toward 
 what is allowed to it. For there is between 
 them (just as between men) some sort of 
 similarity and kinship of substance, since 
 the description which is given of the nature 
 of the soul, applies equally well to their sub- 
 stance. But it is impossible for spirits to be 
 implanted in spirits inwardly or united with 
 them in such a way that one can hold the 
 other; for this is the true prerogative of Deity 
 alone, which is the only simple and incor- 
 poreal nature. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 An objection whether unclean spirits can be present in or 
 united with the souls of those whom they have filled. 
 
 Germanus : To this idea we think that 
 what we see happen in the case of those 
 possessed is sufficiently opposed, when they 
 say and do what they know not under the in- 
 fluence of the spirits. How then are we to 
 refuse to believe that their souls are not 
 united to those spirits, when we see them made 
 their instruments, and (forsaking their natural 
 condition) yielding to their movements and 
 moods, in such a way that they give expres- 
 sion no longer to their own words and actions 
 and wishes, but to those of the demons? 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The answer how it is that unclean spirits can lord it over 
 those possessed. 
 
 Serenus : What you speak of as taking 
 place in the case of demoniacs is not opposed 
 to our assertion; viz., that those possessed by 
 unclean spirits say and do what they do not 
 want to, and are forced to utter what they 
 know not; for it is perfectly clear that they 
 are not subject to the entrance of the spirits 
 all in the same way : for some are affected by 
 them in such a way as to have not the slight- 
 est conception of what they do and say, while 
 others know and afterwards recollect it. But 
 we must not imagine that this is done by the 
 infusion of the spirit in such a way that it 
 penetrates into the actual substance of the 
 soul and, being as it were united to it and 
 somehow clothed with it, utters words and 
 sayings through the mouth of the sufferer. 
 For we ought not to believe that this can 
 possibly be done by them. For we can 
 clearly see that this results from no loss 
 of the soul but from weakness of the body, 
 when the unclean spirit seizes on those 
 members in which the vigour of the soul 
 resides, and laying on them an enormous and 
 intolerable weight overwhelms it with foulest 
 darkness, and interferes with its intellectual 
 powers : as we see sometimes happen also 
 from the fault of wine and fever or excessive 
 cold, and other indispositions affecting men 
 from without; and it was this which the devil 
 was forbidden to attempt to inflict on the 
 blessed Job, though he had received power 
 over his flesh, when the Lord commanded him 
 saying: " Lo, I give him into thine hands: 
 only preserve his soul," 1 i.e., do not weaken 
 the seat of his soul and make him mad, and 
 overpower the understanding and wisdom of 
 what remains, by smothering the ruling power 
 in his heart with your weight. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 How spirit cannot be penetrated by spirit, and how God 
 alone is incorporeal. 
 
 For even if spirit is mingled with this 
 crass and solid matter; viz., flesh fas very 
 easily happens), should we therefore believe 
 that it can be united to the soul, which is in 
 like manner spirit, in such a way as to make 
 it also receptive in the same way of its own 
 nature : a thing which is possible to the 
 
 1 Job ii. 6 (T.XX.). 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS. 
 
 ;67 
 
 Trinity alone, which is so capable of perva- 
 ding every intellectual nature, that it cannot 
 only embrace and surround it but even insert 
 itself into it and, incorporeal though it is, 
 be infused into a body? For though we 
 maintain that some spiritual natures exist, 
 such as angels, archangels and the other 
 powers, and indeed our own souls and the 
 thin air, yet we ought certainly not to con- 
 sider them incorporeal. For they have in 
 their own fashion a body in which they exist, 
 though it is much finer than our bodies are, 
 in accordance with the Apostle's words when 
 he says : " And there are bodies celestial, and 
 bodies terrestrial : " and again : " It is sown a 
 natural body, it is raised a spiritual body; " * 
 from which it is clearly gathered that there is 
 nothing incorporeal but God alone, and there- 
 fore it is only by Him that all spiritual and 
 intellectual substances can be pervaded, 
 because He alone is whole and everywhere 
 and in all things, in such a way as to be- 
 hold and see the thoughts of men and their 
 inner movements and all the recesses of the 
 soul; since it was of Him alone that the 
 blessed Apostle spoke when he said: "For 
 the word of God is quick and powerful and 
 sharper than any two-edged sword, and pier- 
 cing even to the dividing of soul and spirit and 
 of the joints and marrow; and is a discerner 
 of the thoughts and intents of the heart ; and 
 there is no creature invisible in His sight, 
 but all things are naked and open to His 
 eyes." 2 And the blessed David says: "Who 
 fashioneth their hearts one by one; " and 
 again : " For He knoweth the secrets of the 
 heart;" 3 and Job too: "Thou who alone 
 knowest the hearts of men." 4 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 An objection, as to how we ought to believe that devils see 
 into the thoughts of men. 
 
 Germanus: In this way, which you de- 
 scribe, those spirits cannot possibly see into 
 our thoughts. But we think it utterly absurd 
 to hold such an opinion, when Scripture 
 says: "If the spirit of him that hath power 
 ascend upon thee ; " 5 and again : " When the 
 devil had put it into the heart of Simon 
 Iscariot to betray the Lord." 6 How then can 
 we believe that our thoughts are not open to 
 them, when we feel that for the most part they 
 spring up and are nursed by their suggestions 
 and instigation? 
 
 1 1 Cor. xv. 40, 44. 4 2 Chron. vi. 30. 
 
 2 Heb. iv. 12, 13. 5 Eccl. x. 4. 
 
 3 Ps. xxxii. (xxxiii.) 15 ; xliii. (xliv.) 22. G S. John xiii. 2. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The answer what devils can and what they cannot do in 
 regard to the thoughts of men. 
 
 Serenus: Nobody doubts that unclean 
 spirits can influence the character of our 
 thoughts, but this is by affecting them from 
 without by sensible influences, i.e., either 
 from our inclinations or from our words, and 
 those likings to which they see that we are 
 especially disposed. But they cannot possibly 
 come near to those which have not yet come 
 forth from the inmost recesses of the soul. 
 And the thoughts too, which they suggest, 
 whether they are actually or in a kind of way 
 embraced, are discovered by them not from 
 the nature of the soul itself, i.e., that inner in- 
 clination which lies concealed so to speak in 
 the very marrow, but from motions and signs 
 given by the outward man, as for example, 
 when they suggest gluttony, if they have seen 
 a monk raising his eyes anxiously to the win- 
 dow or to the sun, or inquiring eagerly what 
 o'clock it is, they know that he has admitted 
 the feeling of greediness. If when they 
 suggest fornication they find him calmly sub- 
 mitting to the attack of lust, or see him per- 
 turbed in body, or at any rate not groaning 
 as he ought under the wantonness of an im- 
 pure suggestion, they know that the dart of lust 
 is already fixed in his very soul. If they stir 
 up incitements to grief, or anger, or rage, they 
 can tell whether they have taken root in the 
 heart by the movements of the body, and 
 visible disturbances, when, for instance, they 
 have noticed him either groaning silently, or 
 panting with indignation or changing colour; 
 and so they cunningly discover the fault to 
 which he is given over. For they know that 
 every one of us is enticed in a regular way by 
 that one, to the incitement of which they see, 
 by a sort of assenting motion of the body, that 
 he has yielded his consent and agreement. 
 And it is no wonder that this is discovered 
 by those powers of the air, when we see that 
 even clever men can often discover the state 
 of the inner man from his mien and look and 
 external bearing. How much more surely 
 then can this be discovered by those who as 
 being of a spiritual nature are certainly much 
 more subtle and cleverer than men. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 An illustration showing how we are taught that unclean 
 spirits know the thoughts of men. 
 
 For just as some thieves are in the habit 
 of examining the concealed treasures of the 
 
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 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 men in those houses which they mean to rob, 
 and in the dark shades of night sprinkle with 
 careful hands little grains of sand and discover 
 the hidden treasures which they cannot see 
 by the tinkling sound with which they answer 
 to the fall of the sand, and so arrive at certain 
 knowledge of each thing and metal, which be- 
 trays itself in a way by the voice elicited from 
 it; so these too, in order to explore the trea- 
 sures of our heart, scatter over us the sand of 
 certain evil suggestions, and when they see 
 some bodily affection arise corresponding to 
 their character, they recognize as if by a sort 
 of tinkling sound proceeding from the inmost 
 recesses, what it is that is stored up in the 
 secret chamber of the inner man. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 On the fact that not every devil has the power of suggesting 
 every passion to'men. 
 
 But we ought to know this, that not all 
 devils can implant all the passions in men, 
 but that certain spirits brood over each sin, 
 and that some gloat over uncleanness and filthy 
 lusts, others over blasphemy, others are more 
 particularly devoted to anger and wrath, 
 others thrive on gloominess, others are paci- 
 fied with vainglory and pride ; and each one 
 implants in the hearts of men that sin, in 
 which he himself revels, and they cannot im- 
 plant their special vices all at one time, but 
 in turn, according as the opportunity of time 
 or place, or a man, who is open to their 
 suggestions, excites them. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A question whether among the devils there is any order 
 observed in the attack, or system in its changes. 
 
 Germanus : Must we then believe that 
 wickedness is arranged and so to speak sys- 
 tematized among them in such a way that 
 there is some order in the changes observed 
 by them, and a regular plan of attack carried 
 out, though it is clear that method and system 
 can only exist among good and upright men, 
 as Scripture says : " Thou shalt seek wisdom 
 ainong the ungodly and shalt not find it; " 
 and: "our enemies are senseless; " and this : 
 " There is neither wisdom, nor courage, nor 
 counsel among the ungodly." x 
 
 1 Prov. xiv. 6; Deut. xxxii. 31; Prov. xxi. 30 (LXX.). 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The answer how far an agreement exists among devils about 
 the attack and its changes. 
 
 Serenus : It is a true assertion that there is 
 no lasting concord among bad men, and that 
 perfect harmony cannot exist even in regard 
 to those particular faults which have attrac- 
 tions for them all in common. For, as you 
 have said, it can never be that system and 
 discipline are preserved ainong undisciplined 
 things. But in some matters, where commu- 
 nity of interests, and necessity enforces it, or 
 participation in some gain recommends it, they 
 must arrange for some agreement for the time 
 being. And we see very clearly that this is 
 so in the case of this war of spiritual wicked- 
 ness ; so that not only do they observe times 
 and changes among themselves, but actually 
 are known specially to occupy some particular 
 spots and to haunt them persistently: for since 
 they must make their attacks through certain 
 fixed temptations and well defined sins, and 
 at particular times, we clearly infer from this 
 that no one can at one and at the same time be 
 deluded by the emptiness of vainglory and 
 inflamed by the lust of fornication, nor at 
 one and the same time be puffed up by the out- 
 rageous haughtiness of spiritual pride, and 
 subject to the humiliation of carnal gluttony. 
 Nor can anyone be overcome by silly giggling 
 and laughter and at the same time be excited 
 by the stings of anger, or at any rate filled with 
 the pains of gnawing grief: but all the spirits 
 must one by one advance to attack the soul, 
 in such a way that when one has been van- 
 quished and retreated, he must make way for 
 another spirit to attack it still more vehe- 
 mently, or if he has come forth victorious, he 
 will none the less hand it over to be deceived 
 by another. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Of the fact that opposite powers are not of the same boldness, 
 and that the occasions of temptation are not under their 
 control. 
 
 We ought also not to be ignorant of this, 
 that they have not all the same fierceness and 
 energy, nor indeed the same boldness and 
 malice, and that with beginners and feeble 
 folk only the weaker spirits join battle, and 
 when these spiritual wickednesses are beaten, 
 then gradually the assaults of stronger ones 
 are made against the athlete of Christ. For 
 in proportion to a man's strength and pro- 
 gress, is the difficulty of the struggle made 
 greater: for none of the saints could possibly 
 be equal to the endurance of the malice of so 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS. 
 
 369 
 
 many and so great foes, or meet their attacks, 
 or even bear their cruelty and savagery, were 
 it not that the merciful judge of our contest, 
 and president of the games, Christ Himself, 
 equalized the strength of the Combatants, and 
 repelled and checked their excessive attacks, 
 and made with the temptation a way of escape 
 as well that we might be able to bear it. x 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Of the fact that devils struggle with men not without effort on 
 their part. 
 
 But our belief is that they undertake this 
 struggle not without effort on their part. For 
 in their conflict they themselves have some 
 sort of anxiety and depression, and especially 
 when they are matched with stronger rivals, 
 i.e., saints and perfect men. Otherwise no 
 contest or struggle, but only a simple decep- 
 tion of men, and one free from anxiety on 
 their part would be assigned to them. And 
 how then would the Apostle's words stand, 
 where he says : " We wrestle not against flesh 
 and blood, but against principalities, against 
 powers, against world-rulers of this darkness, 
 against spiritual wickedness in heavenly 
 places; " and this too: " So fight I, not as one 
 that beateth the air;" and again: ''I have 
 fought a good fight " ? 2 For where it is spoken 
 of as a fight, and conflict, and battle, there 
 must be effort and exertion andanxiety on both 
 sides, and equally there must either be in store 
 for them chagrin and confusion for their fai- 
 lure, or delight consequent upon their victory. 
 But where one fights with ease and security 
 against another who struggles with great 
 effort, and in order to overthrow his rival 
 makes use of his will alone as his strength, 
 there it ought not to be called a battle, 
 struggle, or strife, but a sort of unfair and un- 
 reasonable assault and attack. But they 
 certainly have to labour, and when they attack 
 men, exert themselves in no lesser degree in 
 order to secure from each one that victory 
 which they want to obtain, and there is hurled 
 back upon them the same confusion which 
 was awaiting us had we been worsted by them ; 
 as it is said: "The head of their compassing 
 me about, the labour of their own lips shall 
 overwhelm them; " and: " His sorrow shall be 
 turned on his own head;" and again: "Let 
 the snare which he knoweth not come upon 
 him, and let the net which he hath hidden 
 catch him, and into that very snare let him 
 fall ; " 3 viz. , that which he contrived for the de- 
 
 ception of men. They then themselves also 
 come to grief, and as they damage us so are 
 they also in like manner damaged by us, nor 
 when they are worsted do they depart without 
 confusion, and seeing these defeats of theirs 
 and their struggles, one who had good eyes in 
 his inner man, seeing also that they gloated 
 over the downfall and mischances of indivi- 
 duals, and fearing lest his own case might 
 furnish them with this kind of delight, prayed 
 to the Lord saying: "Lighten mine eyes that 
 I sleep not in death: lest mine enemy say, I 
 have prevailed against him. They that trouble 
 me will rejoice if I be moved;" and: "O My 
 God, let them not rejoice over me; let them 
 not say in their hearts, Aha, Aha, our very 
 wish; neither let them say, we have devoured 
 him;" and: "They gnashed their teeth upon 
 me. Lord, how long wilt Thou look on this ? " 
 for: "he lieth in wait secretly as a lion in his 
 den : he lieth in wait to ravish the poor ; " and : 
 "He seeketh from God his meat." 4 And 
 again when all their efforts are exhausted, and 
 they have failed to secure our deception, they 
 must "be confounded and blush" at the fai- 
 lure of their efforts, "who seek our souls to 
 destroy them : and let them be covered with 
 shame and confusion who imagine evil against 
 us." 5 Jeremiah also says: "Let them be con- 
 founded, and let not me be confounded: let 
 them be afraid, and let not me be afraid : 
 bring upon them the fury of Thy wrath, and 
 with a double destruction destroy them." ° For 
 no one can doubt that when they are van- 
 quished by us they will be destroyed with a 
 double destruction : first, because while men 
 are seeking after holiness, they, though they 
 possessed it, lost it, and became the cause 
 of man's ruin; secondly, because being spi- 
 ritual existences, they have been vanquished 
 by carnal and earthly ones. Each one then 
 of the saints when he looks on the destruction 
 of his foes and his own triumphs, exclaims 
 with delight: "I will follow after mine ene- 
 mies and overtake them : and I will not turn 
 until they are destroyed. I will break them 
 and they shall not be able to stand: they 
 shall fall under my feet," 7 and in his prayers 
 against them the same prophet says: "Judge 
 thou, O Lord, them that wrong me : overthrow 
 them that fight against me. Take hold of 
 arms and shield: and rise up to help me. 
 Bring out the sword and shut up the way 
 against them that persecute me : say to my 
 soul, I am thy salvation." 8 And when by 
 
 Cor. x. 13. 2 Eph. vi. 12 ; 1 Cor. ix. 26 ; 2 Tim. iv. 
 
 3 Ps. cxxxix. (cxl.) 10; vii. 17; xxxiv. (xxxv.) S. 
 
 4 Ps. xii. (xiii.) 4, 5; xxxiv. (xxxv.) 24, 28; 16, 17; ix. (x.) 9; 
 ciii. (civ.) 21. 
 
 5 Ps. xxxix. (xl.) 15; xxxiv. (xxxv.) 26; xxxix. (xl.), 15. 
 
 c Jer. xvii. 18. 7 Ps. xvii. (xviii.) 38, 39. 
 
 8 Ps. xxiv. (xxxv.) 1-3. 
 
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 subduing and destroying all our passions we 
 have vanquished these, we shall then be per- 
 mitted to hear those words of blessing: "Thy 
 hand shall be exalted over thine enemies, 
 and all thine enemies shall perish." 1 And 
 so when we read or chant all these and such 
 like passages found in holy writ, unless we 
 take them as written against those spiritual 
 wickednesses which lie in wait for us night 
 and day, we shall not only fail to draw from 
 them any edification to make us gentle and 
 patient, but shall actually meet with some 
 dreadful consequence and one that is quite 
 contrary to evangelical perfection. For we 
 shall not only not be taught to pray for or to 
 love our enemies, but actually shall be stirred 
 up to hate them with an implacable hatred, 
 and to curse them and incessantly to pour 
 forth prayers against them. And it is terribly 
 wrong and blasphemous to think that these 
 words were uttered in such a spirit by holy 
 men and friends of God, on whom before the 
 coming of Christ the law was not imposed 
 for the very reason that they went beyond its 
 commands, and chose rather to obey the pre- 
 cepts of the gospel and to aim at apostolical 
 perfection, though they lived before the dis- 
 pensation of the time. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 On the fact that the power to hurt does not depend upon the 
 will of the devils^ 
 
 But that they have not the power of hurting 
 any man is shown in a very clear way by the 
 instance of the blessed Job, where the enemy 
 did not venture to try him beyond what was 
 allowed to him by the Divine permission; 
 and it is evidenced by the confession of the 
 same spirits contained in the records of the 
 gospel, where they say : " If Thou cast us out, 
 suffer us to go into the herd of swine.'' 2 And 
 far more must we hold that they cannot of 
 their own free will enter into any one of men 
 who are created in the image of God, if they 
 have not power to enter into dumb and un- 
 clean animals without the permission of God. 
 But no one — I will not say of the younger 
 men, whom we see living most steadfastly in 
 this desert, but even of those who are perfect — 
 could live alone in the desert, surrounded by 
 such swarms of foes of this kind, if they had 
 unlimited power and freedom to hurt and 
 tempt us : and still more clearly is this sup- 
 ported by the words of our Lord and Saviour, 
 which in the lowliness of the manhood He 
 had assumed, He uttered to Pilate, when He 
 
 1 Micah v. 9. 
 
 S. Matt. viii. 31. 
 
 said : " Thou couldest have no power against 
 Me at all, unless it were given thee from 
 above." 3 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Of the diminished power of the devils. 
 
 But we have thoroughly discovered both by 
 our own experience and by the testimony of 
 the Elders that the devils have not now the 
 same power as they had formerly during the 
 early days of the anchorites, when yet there 
 were only a few monks living in the desert. 
 For such was their fierceness that it was with 
 difficulty that a few very steadfast men, and 
 those advanced in years were able to endure 
 a life of solitude. Since in the actual mo- 
 nasteries where eight or ten men used to live, 
 their violence attacked them so and their as- 
 saults were experienced so frequently, and 
 so visibly, that they did not dare all to go 
 to bed at once by night, but took turns and 
 while some snatched a little sleep, others kept 
 watch and devoted themselves to Psalms and 
 prayer and reading. And when the wants of 
 nature compelled them to sleep, they awoke 
 the others, and committed to them in like 
 manner the duty of keeping watch over those 
 who were going to bed. Whence we cannot 
 doubt that one of two things has brought about 
 this result not only in the case of us who seem 
 to be fairly strong from the experience which 
 our age gives us, but also in the case of 
 younger men as well. For either the malice 
 of the devils has been beaten back by the 
 power of the cross penetrating even to the 
 desert, and by its grace which shines every- 
 where; or else our carelessness makes them 
 relax something of their first onslaught, as 
 they scorn to attack us with the same energy 
 with which they formerly raged against those 
 most admirable soldiers of Christ; and by 
 this deceit and ceasing from open attacks 
 they do us still more damage. For we see 
 that some have fallen into so sluggish a con- 
 dition that they have to be coaxed by too 
 gentle exhortations for fear lest they should 
 forsake their cells and fall into more danger- 
 ous troubles, and wander and stray about and 
 be entangled in what I would call grosser 
 sins; and it is thought that a great thing is 
 got from them if they can even with some list- 
 lessness remain in the desert and the Elders 
 often say to them as a great relief: Stop in 
 your cells, and eat and drink and sleep as 
 much as you like, 4 if only you will stay in 
 them always. 
 
 s S. John xix. n. 
 
 4 So centuries later it is told of a Jesuit father that when one 
 wanted to relax the strictness of his fast, he replied, " Eat an ox, 
 but be a Christian." 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS. 
 
 71 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Of the way in which the devils prepare for themselves an 
 entrance into the bodies of those whom they are going 
 to possess. 
 
 It is clear then that unclean spirits cannot 
 make their way into those whose bodies they 
 are going to seize upon, in any other way than 
 by first taking possession of their minds and 
 thoughts. And when they have robbed them 
 of fear and the recollection of God and spirit- 
 ual meditation, they boldly advance upon 
 them, as if they were dispossessed of all pro- 
 tection and Divine safeguard, and could 
 easily be bound, and then take up their dwell- 
 ing in them as if in a possession given over 
 to them. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 On the fact that those men are more wretched who are pos- 
 sessed by sins than those who are possessed by devils. 
 
 Although it is a fact that those men are 
 more grievously and severely troubled, who, 
 while they seem to be very little affected by 
 them in the body, are yet possessed in spirit 
 in a far worse way, as they are entangled in 
 their sins and lusts. For as the Apostle 
 says : " Of whom a man is overcome, of him he 
 is also the servant." Only that in this respect 
 they are more dangerously ill, because though 
 they are their slaves, yet they do not know 
 that they are assaulted by them, and under 
 their dominion. But we know that even 
 saintly men have been given over in the flesh 
 to Satan and to great afflictions for some very 
 slight faults, since the Divine mercy will not 
 suffer the very least spot or stain to be found 
 in them on the day of judgment, and purges 
 away in this world every spot of their filth, as 
 the prophet, or rather God Himself says, in 
 order that He may commit them to eternity as 
 gold or silver refined and needing no penal 
 purification. "And," says He, "I will clean 
 purge away thy dross, and I will take away 
 all thy tin ; and after this thou shalt be called 
 the city of the just, a faithful city." And 
 again : " Like as silver and gold are tried in 
 the furnace, so the Lord chooseth the hearts ; " 
 And again: "The fire tries gold and silver; 
 but man is tried in the furnace of humilia- 
 tion;" and this also: " For whom the Lord 
 loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every 
 son whom He receiveth." 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Of the death of the prophet who was led astray, and of the 
 infirmity of the Abbot Paul, with which he was visited for 
 the sake of his cleansing. 
 
 And we see clear instance of this in the 
 case of that prophet and man of God in the 
 third book of Kings, who was straightway 
 destroyed by a lion for a single fault of dis- 
 obedience, in which he was implicated not of 
 set purpose nor by the fault of his own will but 
 by the enticement of another, as the Scripture 
 speaks thus of him : " It is the man of God, 
 who was disobedient to the mouth of the 
 Lord, and the Lord delivered him to the lion, 
 i and it tare him according to, the word of the 
 Lord, which He spake." a In which case the 
 punishment of the present offence and care- 
 lessness together with the reward of his right- 
 eousness, for which the Lord gave over his 
 prophet in this world to the destroyer, are 
 shown by the moderation and abstinence of 
 the beast of prey, as that most savage creature 
 did not dare even to taste the carcass that 
 was given over to him. And of the same 
 thing a very clear and plain proof has been 
 given in our own days in the case of the 
 Abbots Paul and Moses who lived in a spot 
 in this desert called Calamus, 3 for the former 
 had formerly dwelt in the wilderness which 
 is hard by the city of Panephysis, 4 which we 
 know had only recently been made a wilder- 
 ness by an inundation of salt water; which 
 whenever the north wind blew, was driven 
 from the marshes and spreading over the 
 adjacent fields covered the face of the whole 
 district, so as to make the ancient villages, 
 which on this very account had been deserted 
 by all their inhabitants, look like islands. 
 Here, then, the Abbot Paul had made such 
 progress in purity of heart in the stillness and 
 silence of the desert, that he did not suffer, I 
 will not say a woman's face, but even the 
 clothes of one of that sex to appear in his 
 sight. For when as he was going to the cell 
 of one of the Elders together with Abbot 
 Archebius 5 who lived in the same desert, by 
 accident a woman met him, he was so dis- 
 gusted at meeting her that he dropped the 
 business of his friendly visit which he had 
 taken in hand and dashed back again to 
 his own monastery with greater speed than a 
 man would flee from the face of a lion or 
 terrible dragon; so that he was not moved 
 even by the shouts and prayers of the afore- 
 said Abbot Archebius who called him back to 
 
 1 Is. i. 25, 26; Prov. xvii. 3 (LXX.); Ecclus.ii. 5 
 
 I 2 1 Kings xiii. 26. 4 Cf . on the Institutes IV. xxx. 
 
 Heb. xii. 6. \ 3 Cf. on the Institutes X. xxiv. G On Archebius cf. the note on XI. ii. 
 
37* 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 go on with the journey they had undertaken 
 to ask the old man what they had proposed to 
 do. But though this was done in his eager- 
 ness for chastity and desire for purity, yet 
 because it was done not according to know- 
 ledge, and because the observance of disci- 
 pline, and the methods of proper strictness 
 were overstrained, for he imagined that not 
 merely familiarity with a woman (which is the 
 real harm,) but even the very form of that sex 
 was to be execrated, he was forthwith over- 
 taken by such a punishment that his whole 
 body was struck with paralysis, and none of 
 his limbs were able to perform their proper 
 functions, since not merely his hands and 
 feet, but even the movements of the tongue, 
 which enables us to frame our words, (were 
 affected) and his very ears lost the sense of 
 hearing, so that there was left in him nothing 
 more of his manhood than an immovable and 
 insensible figure. But he was reduced to 
 such a condition that the utmost care of men 
 was unable to minister to his infirmity, but 
 only the tender service of women could attend 
 to his wants: for when he was taken to a con- 
 vent of holy virgins, food and drink, which 
 he could not ask for even by signs, were 
 brought to him by female attendants, and for 
 the performance of all that nature required 
 he was ministered to by the same service for 
 nearly four years, i.e., to the end of his life. 
 And though he was affected by such weakness 
 of all his members that none of his limbs 
 retained their keen power of motion and feel- 
 ing, nevertheless such grace of goodness pro- 
 ceeded from him that when sick persons were 
 anointed with the oil which had touched 
 what should be called his corpse rather than 
 his body, they were instantly healed of all 
 diseases, so that as regards his own malady it 
 was made clearly and plainly evident even to 
 unbelievers that the infirmity of all his limbs 
 was caused by the providence and love of the 
 Lord, and that the grace of these healings 
 was granted by the power of the Holy Ghost 
 as a witness of his purity and a manifestation 
 of his merits. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 On the temptation of Abbot Moses. 
 
 But the second person whom we mentioned 
 as living in this desert, although he was also a 
 remarkable and striking man, yet, in order to 
 punish a single word, to which in a dispute 
 with Abbot Macarius, 1 he had given utterance 
 
 1 On Macarius see the note on th; Institutes V. xli. 
 
 somewhat too sharply, as he was anticipated 
 in some opinion, he was instantly delivered 
 to so dreadful a demon that he filled his 
 mouth with filth' 2 which he supplied, and the 
 Lord showed by the quickness of his cure, 
 and the author of his healing, that He had 
 brought this scourge upon him to purify him, 
 that there might not remain in him any stain 
 from his momentary error: for as soon as 
 Abbot Macarius committed himself to prayer, 
 quicker than a word the evil spirit fled away 
 from him and departed. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 How we ought not to despise those who are delivered up to 
 unclean spirits. 
 
 From which it plainly results that we ought 
 not to hate or despise those whom we see to 
 be delivered up to various temptations or to 
 those spirits of evil, because we ought firmly 
 to hold these two points : first, that none of 
 them can be tempted at all by them without 
 God's permission, and secondly that all things 
 which are brought upon us by God, whether 
 they seem to us at the present time to be sad 
 or joyful, are inflicted for our advantage as by 
 a most kind father and most compassionate 
 physician, and that therefore men are, as it 
 were, given into the charge of schoolmasters, 
 and humbled in order that when they depart 
 out of this world they may be removed in a 
 state of greater purity to the other life, or 
 have a lighter punishment inflicted on them, 
 as they have been, as the Apostle says, 
 delivered over at the present time " to Satan 
 for the destruction of the flesh that the spirit 
 may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus. ' ' 8 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 An objection, asking why those who are tormented by unclean 
 spirits are separated from the Lord's communion. 
 
 Germanus : And how is it that we see 
 them not only scorned and shunned by every- 
 body, but actually always kept away from the 
 Lord's communion in our provinces, in accord- 
 ance with these words of the gospel : " Give 
 not that which is holy to the dogs, neither cast 
 your pearls before swine; " 4 while you tell us 
 that somehow we ought to hold that the 
 humiliation of this temptation is brought 
 upon them with a view to their purification 
 and profit ? 
 
 Humanas egestiones. 3 i Cor. v. 5. 4 S. Matt. vii. 6. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS. 
 
 373 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 The answer to the question raised. 
 
 Serenus: If we had this knowledge or 
 rather faith, of which I treated above; viz., 
 to believe that all things were brought about 
 by God, and ordered for the good of our souls, 
 we should not only never despise them, but 
 rather pray without ceasing for them as our 
 own members, and sympathize with them with 
 all our hearts and the fullest affection (for 
 "when one member suffers, all the members 
 suffer with it" 1 ), as we know that we cannot 
 possibly be perfected without them inasmuch 
 as the)^ are members of us, just as we read 
 that our predecessors could not attain the 
 fulness of promise without us, as the Apostle 
 speaks of them as follows: "And these all 
 being approved by the testimony of faith, 
 received not the promise, God providing some 
 better thing for us that they should not be 
 perfected without us. " 2 But we never remem- 
 ber that holy communion was forbidden them ; 
 nay rather if it were possible, they thought 
 that it ought to be given to them daily ; nor 
 indeed according to the words of the gospel 
 which you incongruously apply in this sense 
 " Give not that which is holy to dogs, " 3 ought 
 we to believe that holy communion becomes 
 food for the demon, and not a purification 
 and safeguard of body and soul ; for when it 
 is received by a man it, so to speak, burns 
 out and puts to flight the spirit which has 
 its seat in his members or is trying to lurk 
 in them. P'or in this way we have lately seen 
 Abbot Andronicus and many others cured. 
 For the enemy will more and more abuse the 
 man who is possessed, if he sees him cut off 
 from the heavenly medicine, and will tempt 
 him more often and more fearfully, as he sees 
 him removed the further from this spiritual 
 remedy. 4 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 On the fact that those men are more to be pitied to whom it 
 is not given to be subjected to those temporal temptations. 
 
 But we ought to consider those men truly 
 wretched and miserable in whose case, al- 
 though they defile themselves with all kinds 
 of sins and wickedness, yet not only is there 
 no visible sign of the devil's possession 
 shown in them, nor is any temptation propor- 
 
 1 i Cor. xii. 26. 2 Heb. xi. 39, 40. 3 S. Matt. vii. 6. 
 
 4 The question whether the Holy Communion should ever be 
 given to those possessed is discussed by S. Thomas Aquinas, in the 
 Summa III. Q. lxxx. Art. 9, and answered in the affirmative, the 
 authorities quoted in its favour being this passage from Cassian, and 
 the third Canon of the 1st Council of Orange (A.D. 441). 
 
 tionate to their actions, nor any scourge of 
 punishment brought to bear upon them. For 
 they are vouchsafed no swift and immediate 
 remedy in this v/orld, whose "hardness and 
 impenitent heart," being too much for punish- 
 ment in this life, "heapeth up for itself wrath 
 and indignation in the day of wrath and reve- 
 lation of the righteous judgment of God," 
 "where their worm dieth not, and their fire is 
 not quenched." 5 Against whom the prophet 
 as if perplexed at the affliction of the saints, 
 when he sees them subject to various losses 
 and temptations, and on the other hand sees 
 sinners not only passing through the course 
 of this world without any scourge of humilia- 
 tion, but even rejoicing in great riches, and 
 the utmost prosperity in everything, inflamed 
 with uncontrollable indignation and fervour of 
 spirit, exclaims : " But as for me, my feet had 
 almost gone, my treadings had well nigh 
 slipped. For I was grieved at the wicked, 
 when I saw the peace of sinners. For there 
 is no regard to their death, nor is there 
 strength in their stripes. They are not in the 
 labour of men, neither shall they be scourged 
 like other men," ° since hereafter they shall be 
 punished with the devils, to whom in this 
 world it was not vouchsafed to be scourged 
 in the lot and discipline of sons, together with 
 men. Jeremiah also, when conversing with 
 God on this prosperity of sinners, although he 
 never professes to doubt about the justice of 
 God, as he says "for Thou art just, O Lord, 
 if I dispute with Thee," yet in his inquiry 
 as to the reasons of this inequality, proceeds 
 to say: "But yet I will speak what is just 
 to Thee. Why doth the way of the wicked 
 prosper? Why is it well with all them 
 that transgress and do wickedly? Thou hast 
 planted them and they have taken root : they 
 prosper and bring forth fruit. Thou art near 
 in their mouth and far from their reins." 7 
 And when the Lord mourns for their destruc- 
 tion by the prophet, and anxiously directs 
 doctors and physicians to heal them, and in a 
 manner urges them on to a similar lamenta- 
 tion and says: "Babylon is suddenly fallen: 
 she is destroyed. Howl for her : take balm for 
 her pain, if so she may be healed ; " then, in 
 their despair, the angels, to whom is entrusted 
 the care of man's salvation, make reply; or at 
 any rate the prophet in the person of the 
 Apostles and spiritual men and doctors who 
 see the hardness of their soul, and their im- 
 penitent heart: "We have healed Babylon: 
 but she is not cured. Let us forsake her, 
 and let us go every man to his own land 
 because her judgment hath reached even to 
 
 c Rom. ii. 5 ; Is. lxvi. 24. • Ps. lxxii. (lxxiii.) 2-5. 7 Jer. xii. 1, 2. 
 
374 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 the heavens, and is lifted up to the clouds." 1 
 Of their desperate feebleness then Isaiah 
 speaks in the Person of God to Jerusalem : 
 " From the sole of the foot unto the top of the 
 head there is no soundness therein : wounds 
 and bruises and swelling sores: they are not 
 bound up nor dressed nor fermented with oil." 2 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 Of the different desires and wishes which exist in the powers 
 of the air. 
 
 But it is clearly proved that there exist in 
 unclean spirits as many desires as there are in 
 men. For some of them, which are com- 
 monly called Plani, 8 are shown to be so 
 seductive and sportive that, when they have 
 taken continual possession of certain places or 
 roads, they delight themselves not indeed with 
 tormenting the passers by whom they can 
 deceive, but, contenting themselves merely 
 with laughing at them and mocking them, 
 try to tire them out rather than to injure 
 them : while some spend the night merely by 
 harmlessly taking possession of men, though 
 others are such slaves to fury and ferocity that 
 they are not simply content with hurting the 
 bodies of those, of whom they have taken 
 possession, by tearing them in a dreadful 
 manner, but actually are eager to rush upon 
 those who are passing by at a distance, and to 
 attack them with most savage slaughter: like 
 those described in the gospel, for fear of 
 whom no man dared to pass by that way. 
 And there is no doubt that these and such as 
 these in their insatiable fury delight in wars 
 and bloodshed. Others we find affect the 
 hearts of those whom they have seized with 
 empty pride, (and these are commonly called 
 Bacucei 4 ) so that they stretch themselves up 
 beyond their proper height and at one time 
 puff themselves up with arrogance and pom- 
 posity, and at another time condescend in an 
 ordinary and bland manner, to a state of calm- 
 ness and affability: and as they fancy that 
 they are great people and the wonder of every- 
 body, at one time show by bowing their body 
 that they are worshipping higher powers, while 
 at another time they think that they are wor- 
 shipped by others, and so go through all those 
 movements which express true service either 
 proudly or humbly. Others we find are not 
 only keen for lies, but also inspire men with 
 blasphemies. And of this we ourselves can 
 
 1 Jer. li. 8, 9. 2 Is. i. 6. 
 
 3 " nAaroi," " Seducers," if the reading be correct: but some 
 MSS. have " Fauni." 
 
 4 The origin of this term is obscure. 
 
 testify as we have heard a demon openly con- 
 fessing that he had proclaimed a wicked and 
 impious doctrine by the mouths of Arius and 
 Eunomius. And the same thing we read that 
 one of them openly proclaimed in the fourth 
 book of Kings: "I will go forth,'" he said, 
 "and will be a lying spirit in the mouth of 
 all his prophets." 5 On which the Apostle, 
 when reproving those who are deceived by 
 them, adds as follows: "giving heed to sedu- 
 cing spirits and doctrines of devils speaking 
 lies in hypocrisy." 6 And that there are other 
 kinds of devils which are deaf and dumb the 
 gospels testify. And that some spirits incite 
 to lust and wantonness the prophet maintains 
 saying: "The spirit of fornication deceived 
 them and they went astray from their God." " 
 In the same way the authority of Scripture 
 teaches us that there are demons of the night 
 and of the day and of the noonday : 8 But it 
 would take too long to search through the 
 whole of Scripture and run through the differ- 
 ent kinds of them, as they are termed by the 
 prophets onocentaurs, satyrs, sirens, witches, 
 howlers, ostriches, urchins; and asps and 
 basilisks in the Psalms; and are called lions, 
 dragons, scorpions in the gospel, and are 
 named by the Apostle the prince of this world, 
 rulers of this darkness, and spirits of wicked- 
 ness. 9 And all these names we ought not to 
 take as given at random or hap-hazard, but 
 as alluding to their fierceness and madness 
 under the sign of those wild beasts which are 
 more or less harmful and dangerous among us, 
 and by comparing them to the poisonous 
 wickedness or power which among other 
 beasts or serpents, some pre-eminence in evil 
 confers on them, they are called by their 
 names, in such a way that to one is assigned 
 the name of lion because of the fury of his 
 rage and the madness of his anger, to another 
 that of basilisk because of his deadly poison, 
 which kills a person before it is perceived, 
 and to another that of onocentaur or urchin 
 or ostrich because of his sluggish malice. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 A question as to the origin of such differences in powers of 
 evil in the sky. 
 
 Germanus : We certainly do not doubt that 
 those orders which the Apostle enumerates 
 refer to them : " For we wrestle not against 
 flesh and blood, but against principalities, 
 
 5 1 Kings xxii. 22. 7 Hos. iv. 12. 
 
 6 1 Tim. iv. 1, 2. 8 Ps. xc. (xci.) 5, 6. 
 
 9 Cf. Is. xiii. 21, 22; xxxiv. 13, 15; Ps. xc. (xci.) 13; S. Luke 
 x. 19; S.Johnxiv. 30. Eph. vi. 12. 
 
THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS. 
 
 375 
 
 against powers, against the world-rulers of 
 this darkness, against spirits of wickedness in 
 heavenly places : " x but we want to know 
 whence comes such a difference between them, 
 or how such grades of wickedness exist? 
 Were they created for this, to meet with these 
 orders of evil, and in some way to serve this 
 wickedness? 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 The postponement of the answer to the question raised. 
 
 Serenus: Although your proposals would 
 rob us of our whole night's rest, so that we 
 should not notice the approach of the rising 
 dawn, and should be tempted greedily to 
 prolong our conference till sunrise, yet since 
 the solving of the question raised, if we 
 
 began to trace it out, would launch us on a 
 wide and deep sea of questions, which the 
 shortness of the time at our disposal would 
 not permit us to traverse, I think it will be 
 more convenient to reserve it for consider- 
 ation another night, when by the raising of 
 this question I shall receive from your very 
 ready converse some spiritual joy and richer 
 fruit, and we shall be able if the Holy Spirit 
 grants us a prosperous breeze to penetrate 
 more freely into the intricacies of the ques- 
 tions raised. Wherefore let us enjoy a little 
 sleep, and so shake off the drowsiness that 
 steals over our eyes, as the dawn approaches, 
 and then we will go together to church, for 
 the observance of Sunday bids us do this, and 
 after service will come back, and as you wish, 
 discuss with redoubled delight what the Lord 
 may have given to us for our common im- 
 provement. 
 
 VIII. 
 THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS. 
 
 ON PRINCIPALITIES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Of the hospitality of Abbot Serenus. 
 
 When we had finished the duties of the 
 day, and the congregation had been dis- 
 missed from Church we returned to the old 
 man's cell, and enjoyed a most sumptuous 
 repast. For instead of the sauce which with 
 a few drops of oil spread over it was usually 
 set on the table for his daily meal, he mixed 
 a little decoction and poured over it a some- 
 what more liberal allowance of oil than usual; 
 for each of them when he is going to partake 
 of his daily repast, pours those drops of oil on, 
 not that he may receive any enjoyment from 
 the taste of it (for so limited is the supply 
 that it is hardly enough I will not say to 
 line the passage of his throat and jaws, but 
 even to pass down it) but that using it, he 
 may keep down the pride of his heart (which is 
 certain to creep in stealthily and surely if his 
 abstinence is any stricter) and the incitements 
 to vainglory, for as his abstinence is practised 
 with the greater secrecy, and is carried on 
 without anyone to see it, so much the more 
 
 1 Eph. vi. 12. 
 
 subtly does it never cease to tempt the man 
 who conceals it. Then he set before us table 
 salt, and three olives each: after which he 
 produced a basket containing parched vetches 
 which they call trogalia,' 2 from which we each 
 took five grains, two prunes and a fig apiece. 
 For it is considered wrong for anyone to ex- 
 ceed that amount in that desert. And when 
 we had finished this repast and had begun 
 to ask him again for his promised solution 
 of the question, "Let us hear," said the old 
 man, "your question, the consideration of 
 which we postponed till the present time." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Statements on the different kinds of spiritual wickednesses. 
 
 Then Germanus: We want to know what 
 is the origin of the great variety of hostile 
 powers opposed to men, and the difference 
 between them, which the blessed Apostle 
 sums up as follows: "We wrestle not against 
 flesh and blood, but against principalities, 
 against powers, against the world-rulers of this 
 darkness, against spiritual wickedness in hea- 
 
 2 Cf. Horace, De Arte Poetica, 1. 249. 
 
76 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 venly places i" 1 and again : " Neither angels nor 
 principalities nor powers nor any other crea- 
 ture, can separate us from the love of God 
 which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. " 2 Whence 
 then arises the enmity of all this malice 
 jealous of us? Are we to believe that those 
 powers were created by the Lord for this; viz., 
 to fight against men in these grades and 
 orders ? 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The answer on the many kinds of food provided in holy 
 Scripture. 
 
 Serenus : The authority of holy Scripture 
 says on those points on which it would inform 
 us some things so plainly and clearly even to 
 those who are utterly void of understanding, 
 that not only are they not veiled in the 
 obscurity of any hidden meaning, but do not 
 even require the help of any explanation, but 
 carry their meaning and sense on the surface 
 of the words and letters : but some things are 
 so concealed and involved in mysteries as to 
 offer us an immense field for skill and care 
 in the discussion and explanation of them. 
 And it is clear that God has so ordered it 
 for many reasons : first for fear lest the holy 
 mysteries, if they were covered by no veil of 
 spiritual meaning, should be exposed equally 
 to the knowledge and understanding of every- 
 body, i.e., the profane as well as the faithful, 
 and thus there might be no difference in the 
 matter of goodness and prudence between the 
 lazy and the earnest : next that among those 
 who are indeed of the household of faith, 
 while immense differences of intellectual 
 power open out before them, there might be 
 the opportunity of reproving the slothfulness 
 of the idle, and of proving the keenness and 
 diligence of the earnest. And so holy Scrip- 
 ture is fitly compared to a rich and fertile field, 
 which, while bearing and producing much which 
 is good for man's food without being cooked 
 by fire, produces some things which are found 
 to be unsuitable for man's use or even harm- 
 ful unless they have lost all the roughness of 
 their raw condition by being tempered and 
 softened down by the heat of fire. But some 
 are naturally fit for use in both states, so that 
 even when uncooked they are not unpleasant 
 from their raw condition, but still are ren- 
 dered more palatable by being cooked and 
 heated by fire. Many more things too are 
 produced only fit for the food of irrational 
 
 Eph. vi. 12. 
 
 2 Rom. viii. 38, 39. 
 
 creatures, and cattle, and wild animals and 
 birds, but utterly useless as food for men, 
 which while still in their rough state without 
 being in any way touched by fire, conduce 
 to the health and life of cattle. And we can 
 clearly see that the same system holds good 
 in that most fruitful garden of the Scriptures 
 of the Spirit, in which some things shine 
 forth clear and bright in their literal sense, 
 in such a way that while they have no need of 
 any higher interpretation, they furnish abun- 
 dant food and nourishment in the simple 
 sound of the words, to the hearers : as in this 
 passage: "Hear, O Israel, the Lord thy 
 God is one Lord;" and: ''Thoushalt love the 
 Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all 
 thy soul, and with all thy strength. " 3 But there 
 are some which, unless they are weakened down 
 by an allegorical interpretation, and softened 
 by the trial of the fire of the spirit cannot 
 become wholesome food for the inner man 
 without injury and loss to him; and damage 
 rather than profit will accrue to him from 
 receiving them : as with this passage : " But 
 let your loins be girded up and your lights 
 burning;" and: " whosoever has no sword, 
 let him sell his coat and buy himself a sword ; " 
 and: " whosoever taketh not up his cross 
 and followeth after Me is not worthy of Me ; " 4 
 a passage which some most earnest monks, 
 having " indeed a zeal for God, but not ac- 
 cording to knowledge " 5 understood literally, 
 and so made themselves wooden crosses, and 
 carried them about constantly on their shoul- 
 ders, and so were the cause not of edification 
 but of ridicule on the part of all who saw 
 them. But some are capable of being taken 
 suitable and properly in both ways, i.e., the 
 historical and allegorical, so that either ex- 
 planation furnishes a healing draught to the 
 soul; as this passage: "If anyone shall smite 
 thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other 
 also;" and: "when they persecute you in one 
 city, flee to another;" and: '"if thou wilt be 
 perfect, go, sell all that thou hast and give to 
 the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in 
 heaven, and come follow Me." 6 It produces 
 indeed "grass for the cattle " also, (and of this 
 food all the fields of Scripture are full); viz., 
 plain and simple narratives of history, by 
 which simple folk, and those who are incapable 
 of perfect and sound understanding (of whom 
 it is said "Thou, Lord, wilt save both man 
 and beast ") ' may be made stronger and more 
 vigorous for their hard work and the labour of 
 actual life, in accordance with the state and 
 measure of their capacity. 
 
 3 Deut. vi. 4, 5. 4 S. Luke xii. 35; xxii. 36; S. Matt. x. 3S. 
 
 5 Rom. x. 2. ° S. Matt. v. 39; x. 23 ; xix.21. 7 Ps. x.xxv. (xxxvi.) 7. 
 
THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS. 
 
 77 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Of the double sense in which Holy Scripture may be taken. 
 
 Wherefore on those passages which are 
 brought forward with a clear explanation we 
 also can constantly lay down the meaning and 
 boldly state our own opinions. But those 
 which the Holy Spirit, reserving for our medi- 
 tation and exercise, has inserted in holy 
 Scripture with veiled meaning, wishing some of 
 them to be gathered from various proofs and 
 conjectures, ought to be step by step and care- 
 fully brought together, so that their assertions 
 and proofs may be arranged by the discretion 
 of the man who is arguing or supporting them. 
 For sometimes when a difference of opinion is 
 expressed on one and the same subject, either 
 view may be considered reasonable and be 
 held without injury to the faith either firmly, 
 or doubtfully, i.e., in such a way that neither 
 is full belief nor absolute rejection accorded 
 to it, and the second view need not interfere 
 with the former, if neither of them is found 
 to be opposed to the faith : as in this case : 
 where Elias came in the person of John, 1 and 
 is again to be the precursor of the Lord's 
 Advent: and in the matter of the "Abomina- 
 tion of desolation " which " stood in the holy 
 place," by means of that idol of Jupiter which, 
 as we read, was placed in the temple in Jeru- 
 salem, and which is again to stand in the 
 Church through the coming of Antichrist, 2 and 
 all those things which follow in the gospel, 
 which we take as having been fulfilled before 
 the captivity of Jerusalem and still to be ful- 
 filled at the end of this world. In which mat- 
 ters neither view is opposed to the other, nor 
 does the first interpretation interfere with the 
 second. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Of the fact that the question suggested ought to be included 
 among those things to be held in a neutral or doubtful way. 
 
 And therefore since the question raised by 
 us, does not seem to have been sufficiently 
 or often ventilated among men, and is not 
 clear to most people, and from this fact what 
 we bring forward may "perhaps appear to some 
 to be doubtful, we ought to regulate our own 
 view (since it does not interfere with faith 
 in the Trinity) so that it may be included 
 among those things which are to be held 
 doubtfully; although they rest not on mere 
 opinions such as are usually given to guesses 
 and conjectures, but on clear Scripture proof. 
 
 1 Cf. S. Matt. xi. 14. 
 
 2 See Dan. ix. 27 ; 2 Mace. vi. 2 ; S. Matt. xxiv. 15 sq. 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 Of the fact that nothing is created evil by God. 
 
 God forbid that we should admit that God 
 has created anything which is substantially 
 evil, as Scripture says " everything that God 
 had made was very good. ' ' 3 For if they were 
 created by God such as they are now, or made 
 for this purpose ; viz. , to occupy these positions 
 of malice, and ever to be ready for the decep- 
 tion and ruin of men, we should in opposition 
 to the view of the above quoted Scripture 
 slander God as the Creator and author of 
 evil, as having Himself formed utterly evil 
 wills and natures, creating them for this very 
 purpose; viz., that they might ever persist 
 in their wickedness and never pass over to the 
 feeling of a good will. The following reason 
 then of this diversity is what we received 
 from the tradition of the fathers, being drawn 
 from the fount of Holy Scripture. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Of the origin of principalities or powers. 
 
 None of the faithful question the fact that 
 before the formation of this visible creation 
 God made spiritual and celestial powers, in 
 order that owing to the very fact that they knew 
 that they had been formed out of nothing by 
 the goodness of the Creator for such glory and 
 bliss, they might render to Him continual 
 thanks and ceaselessly continue to praise Him. 
 For neither should we imagine that God for the 
 first time began to originate His creation and 
 work with the formation of this world, as if 
 in those countless ages beforehand He had 
 taken no thought of Providence and the 
 divine ordering of things, and as if we could 
 believe that having none towards whom to 
 show the blessings of His goodness, He had 
 been solitary, and a stranger to all bountiful- 
 ness; a thing which is too poor and unsuitable 
 to fancy of that boundless and eternal and in- 
 comprehensible Majesty; as the Lord Himself 
 says of these powers : " When the stars were 
 made together, all my angels praised Me 
 with a loud voice." 4 Those then who were 
 present at the creation of the stars, are most 
 clearly proved to have been created before 
 that "beginning" in which it is said that 
 heaven and earth were made, inasmuch as 
 they are said with loud voices and admiration 
 to have praised the Creator because of all 
 those visible creatures which, as they saw, 
 
 Geii. 
 
 4 Job xxxviii. 7 (LXX.). 
 
378 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 proceeded forth from nothing. Before then 
 that beginning in time which is spoken of by 
 Moses, and which according to the historic 
 and Jewish interpretation denotes the age of 
 this world (without prejudice to our interpre- 
 tation, according to which we explain that the j 
 "beginning," of all things is Christ, in whom 
 the Father created all things, as it is said "All 
 things were made by him, and without Him 
 was not anything made,'') 1 before, I say, that 
 beginning of Genesis in time there is no 
 question that God had already created all 
 those powers and heavenly virtues; which 
 the Apostle enumerates in order and thus 
 describes : " For in Christ were created all 
 things both in heaven and on earth, visible 
 and invisible, whether they be angels or arch- 
 angels, whether they be thrones or dominions, 
 whether they be principalities or powers. All 
 things were made by Him and in Him." 2 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Of the fall of the devil and the angels. 
 
 And so we are clearly shown that out of 
 that number of them some of the leaders fell, 
 by the lamentations of Ezekiel and Isaiah, in 
 which we know that the prince of Tyre or that 
 Lucifer who rose in the morning is lamented 
 with a doleful plaint: and of him the Lord 
 speaks as follows to Ezekiel : " Son of man, take 
 up a lamentation over the prince of Tyre, and 
 say to him : Thus saith the Lord God : Thou 
 wast the seal of resemblance, full of wisdom, 
 perfect in beauty. Thou wast in the pleasures 
 of the paradise of God: every precious stone 
 was thy covering : the sardius, the topaz and 
 the jasper, the chrysolyte and the onyx and 
 the beryl, the sapphire and the carbuncle 
 and the emerald: gold the work of thy beauty, 
 and thy pipes were prepared in the day that 
 thou wast created. Thou wast a cherub 
 stretched out and protecting, and I set thee 
 in the holy mountain of God, thou hast 
 walked in the midst of the stones of fire. 
 Thou wast perfect in thy ways from the day of 
 thy creation, until iniquity was found in thee. 
 By the multitude of thy merchandise thy 
 inner parts were filled with iniquity and thou 
 hast sinned; and I cast thee out from the 
 mountain of God, and destroyed thee, O 
 covering cherub, out of the midst of the stones 
 of fire. And thy heart was lifted up with thy 
 beauty: thou hast lost thy wisdom in thy 
 beauty, I have cast thee to the ground : I have 
 set thee before the face of kings, that they 
 
 1 S. John i. 3. 
 
 2 Col. i. 
 
 might behold thee. Thou hast defiled thy 
 sanctuaries by the multitude of thy iniquities 
 and by the iniquity of thy traffic." 8 Isaiah 
 also says of another: "How art thou fallen 
 from heaven, O Lucifer, who didst rise in 
 the morning? how art thou fallen to the 
 ground, that didst wound the nations? and 
 thou saidst in thine heart, I will ascend into 
 heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars 
 of God, I will sit in the mountain of the 
 covenant, in the sides of the north. I will 
 ascend above the heights of the clouds. I 
 will be like the Most High." 4 But Holy 
 Scripture relates that these fell not alone from 
 that summit of their station in bliss, as it tells 
 us that the dragon dragged down together with 
 himself the third part of the stars. 5 One of 
 the Apostles too says still more plainly: "But 
 the angels who kept not their first estate, but 
 left their own dwelling, He hath reserved 
 in everlasting chains under darkness to the 
 judgment of the great day." 6 This too which 
 is said to us: "But ye shall die like men and 
 fall like one of the princes," 7 what does it 
 imply but that many princes have fallen? 
 And by these testimonies we can gather the 
 reason for this diversity; viz., either that they 
 still retain those differences of rank (which 
 adverse powers are said to possess, after the 
 manner of holy and heavenly virtues) from 
 the station of their former rank in which they 
 were severally created, or else that, though 
 themselves cast down from heavenly places, 
 yet, as a reward for that wickedness of theirs 
 in which they have graduated in evil, they 
 claim in perversity these grades and titles of 
 rank among themselves, by way of copying 
 those virtues which have stood firm there. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 An objection stating that the fall of the devil took its origin 
 from the deception of God. 
 
 Germanus: Up till now we used to believe 
 that the reason and commencement of the ruin 
 and fall of the devil, in which he was cast out 
 from his heavenly estate, was more particu- 
 larly envy, when in his spiteful subtlety he 
 deceived Adam and Eve. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The answer about the beginning of the devil's fall. 
 
 Serenus: The passage in Genesis shows 
 that that was not the beginning of his fall and 
 
 s Ezek. xxviii.n-iS. 4 Is. xiv. 12-14. 5 Cf. Rev. xii. 4- 
 Ep. of S. Jude, ver. 6. 7 Ps. lxxxi. (lxxx.) 7. 
 
THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS. 
 
 379 
 
 ruin, as before their deception it takes the 
 view that he had already been branded with 
 the ignominy of the name of the serpent, where 
 it says : " But the serpent was wiser " or as the 
 Hebrew copies express it, "more subtle than 
 all the beasts of the earth, which the Lord 
 God had made." l You see then that he had 
 fallen away from his angelic holiness even 
 before he deceived the first man, so that he 
 not only deserved to be stamped with the 
 ignominy of this title, but actually excelled all 
 other beasts of the earth in the subterfuges of 
 wickedness. For Holy Scripture would not 
 have designated a good angel by such a term, 
 nor would it say of those who were still con- 
 tinuing in that state of bliss : " But the serpent 
 was wiser than all the beasts of the earth." 
 For this title could not possibly be applied 
 I say not to Gabriel or Michael, but it would 
 not even be suitable to any good man. And 
 so the title of serpent and the comparison to 
 beasts most clearly suggests not the dignity of 
 an angel but the infamy of an apostate. 
 Finally the occasion of the envy and seduc- 
 tion, which led him to deceive man, arose 
 from the ground of his previous fall, in that he 
 saw that man, who had but recently been 
 formed out of the dust of the ground, was to 
 be called to that glory, from which he remem- 
 bered that he himself, while still one of the 
 princes, had fallen. And so that first fall of 
 his, which was due to pride, and which obtained 
 for him the name of the serpent, was followed 
 by a second owing to envy: and as this one 
 found him still in the possession of something 
 upright so that he could enjoy some inter- 
 change of conference and counsel with man, 
 by the Lord's sentence he was very properly 
 cast down to the lowest depth, that he might 
 no longer walk as before erect, and looking 
 up on high, but should cleave to the ground 
 and creep along, and be brought low upon his 
 belly and feed upon the earthly food and works 
 of sins, and henceforward proclaim his secret 
 hostility, and put between himself and man 
 an enmity that is to our advantage, and a dis- 
 cord that is to our profit, so that while men 
 are on their guard against him as a dangerous 
 enemy, he can no longer injure them by a 
 deceptive show of friendship. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The punishment of the deceiver and the deceived. 
 
 But we ought in this matter, in order that 
 we may shun evil counsels, to learn a special 
 
 1 Gen. iii. i. 
 
 lesson from the fact that though the author 
 of the deception was visited with a fitting 
 punishment and condemnation, yet still the 
 one who was led astray did not go scot free 
 from punishment, although it was somewhat 
 lighter than that of him who was the author 
 of the deception. And this we see was very 
 plainly expressed. For Adam who was de- 
 ceived, or rather (to use the Apostle's words) 
 "was not deceived" but, acquiescing in the 
 wishes of her who was deceived, seems to 
 have come to yield a consent that was 
 deadly, is only condemned to labour and the 
 sweat of his brow, which is assigned to him 
 not by means of a curse upon himself, but 
 by means of a curse upon the ground, and its 
 barrenness. But the woman, who persuaded 
 him to this, is visited with an increase of 
 anguish, and pains and sorrow, and also 
 given over to the yoke of perpetual subjection. 
 But the serpent who was the first to incite 
 them to this offence, is punished by a lasting 
 curse. Wherefore we should with the utmost 
 care and circumspection be on our guard 
 against evil counsels, for as they bring punish- 
 ment upon their authors, so too they do not 
 suffer those who are deceived by them to go 
 free from guilt and punishment. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Of the crowd of the devils, and the disturbance which they 
 always raise in our atmosphere. 
 
 But the atmosphere which extends between 
 heaven and earth is ever filled with a thick 
 crowd of spirits, which do not fly about in 
 it quietly or idly, so that most fortunately 
 the divine providence has withdrawn them 
 from human sight. For through fear of 
 their attacks, or horror at the forms, into 
 which they transform and turn themselves 
 at will, men would either be driven out 
 of their wits by an insufferable dread, and 
 faint away, from inability to look on such 
 things with bodily eyes, or else would daily 
 grow worse and worse, and be corrupted by 
 their constant example and by imitating them, 
 and thus there would arise a sort of danger- 
 ous familiarity and deadly intercourse between 
 men and the unclean powers of the air, where- 
 as those crimes which are now committed 
 among men, are concealed either by walls 
 and enclosures or by distance and space, or by 
 some shame and confusion : but if they could 
 always look on them with open face, they 
 would be stimulated to a greater pitch of in- 
 sanity, as there would not be a single moment 
 in which they would see them desist from their 
 
,8o 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 wickedness, since no bodily weariness, or 
 occupation in business or care for their daily 
 food (as in our case) forces them sometimes 
 even against their will to desist from the 
 purposes they have begun to carry out. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Of the fact that opposing powers turn the attack, which they 
 aim at men, even against each other. 
 
 For it is quite clear that they aim these 
 attacks, with which they assault men, even 
 against each other, for in like manner they 
 do not cease to promote with unwearied strife 
 the discords and struggles which they have 
 undertaken for some peoples because of a sort 
 of innate love of wickedness which they 
 have: and this we read of as being very 
 clearly set forth in the vision of Daniel 
 the prophet, where the angel Gabriel speaks 
 as follows : " Fear not, Daniel : for from the 
 first day that thou didst set thy heart to un- 
 derstand, to afflict thyself in the sight of thy 
 God, thy words have been heard : and I am 
 come for thy words. But the prince of the 
 kingdom of the Persians resisted me one and 
 twenty days : and behold Michael one of the 
 chief princes came to help me, and I remained 
 there by the king of the Persians. But I am 
 come to teach thee what things shall befall 
 thy people in the latter days." 1 And we can- 
 not possibly doubt that this prince of the 
 kingdom of the Persians was a hostile power, 
 which favoured the nation of the Persians an 
 enemy of God's people; for in order to hinder 
 the good which it saw would result from the 
 solution of the question for which the prophet 
 prayed the Lord, by the archangel, in its 
 jealousy it opposed itself to prevent the 
 saving comfort of the angel from reaching 
 Daniel too speedily, and from strengthen- 
 ing the people of God, over which the 
 archangel Gabriel was: and the latter said 
 that even then, owing to the fierceness of his 
 assaults, he would not have been able to come 
 to him, had not Michael the archangel come 
 to help him, and met the prince of the king- 
 dom of the Persians, and joined battle with 
 him, and intervened, and defended him from 
 his attack, and so enabled him to come to in- 
 struct the prophet after twenty-one days. And 
 a little later on it says: "And the angel said: 
 Dost thou know wherefore I am come to thee ? 
 And now I will return to fight against the 
 prince of the Persians. For when I went 
 forth, there appeared the prince of the Greeks 
 coming. But I will tell thee what is written 
 
 1 Dan. x. 12-14. 
 
 down in the Scriptures of truth : and none is 
 my helper in all these things but Michael 
 your prince. " 2 And again : "At that time shall 
 Michael rise up, the great prince, who stand- 
 eth for the children of thy people." 3 So then 
 we read that in the same way another was 
 called the prince of the Greeks, Avho since he 
 was patron of that nation which was subject 
 to him seems to have been opposed to the 
 nation of the Persians as well as to the people 
 of Israel. From which we clearly see that 
 antagonistic powers raise against each other 
 those quarrels of nations, and conflicts and 
 dissensions, which they show among them- 
 selves at their instigation, and that they either 
 exult at their victories or are cast down at 
 their defeats, and thus cannot live in harmony 
 among themselves, while each of them is 
 always striving with restless jealousy on be- 
 half of those whom he presides over, against 
 the patron of some other nation. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 How it is that spiritual wickednesses obtained the names of 
 powers or principalities. 
 
 We can then see clear reasons, in addition 
 to those ideas which we expounded above, 
 why they are called principalities or powers; 
 viz., because they rule and preside over 
 different nations, and at least hold sway 
 over inferior spirits and demons, of which 
 the gospels give us evidence by their own 
 confession that there exist legions. For they 
 could not be called lords unless they had 
 some over whom to exercise the sway of lord- 
 ship; nor could they be called powers or 
 principalities, unless there were some over 
 whom they could claim power : and this we find 
 pointed out very clearly in the gospel by the 
 Pharisees in their blasphemy : " He casteth out 
 devils by Beelzebub the prince of the devils," 4 
 for we find that they are also called "rulers of 
 darkness, " 5 and that one of them is styled " the 
 prince of this world.'' 6 But the blessed 
 Apostle declares that hereafter, when all 
 things shall be subdued to Christ, these 
 orders shall be destroyed, saying: "'When 
 He shall have delivered up the kingdom to 
 God even the Father, when He shall have 
 destroyed all principalities and powers and 
 dominions." 7 And this certainly can only 
 take place if they are removed from the sway 
 of those over whom we know that powers 
 and dominions and principalities take charge 
 in this world. 
 
 2 Dan. x. 20, 21. 4 S. Luke xi. 15. 
 
 3 Dan. xii. 1. E Eph. vi. 12. 
 
 6 S. John xiv. 30. 
 
 7 1 Cor. xv. 24. 
 
THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS. 
 
 38i 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Of the fact that it is not without reason that the names of 
 angels and archangels are given to holy and heavenly 
 powers. 
 
 For no one doubts that not without cause 
 or reason are the same titles of rank assigned 
 to the better sort, and that they are names of 
 office and of worth or dignity, for it is plain 
 that they are termed angels, i.e., messengers 
 from their office of bearing messages, and the 
 appropriateness of the name teaches that they 
 are "archangels" because they preside over 
 angels, " dominions " because they hold domin- 
 ion over certain persons, and "principalities" 
 because they have some to be princes over, 
 and " thrones " because they are so near to God 
 and so privy and close to Him that the Divine 
 Majesty specially rests in them as in a Divine 
 throne, and in a way reclines surely on them. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Of the subjection of the devils, which they show to their 
 own princes, as seen in a brother's victim. 
 
 But that unclean spirits are ruled over by 
 worse powers and are subject to them we not 
 only find from those passages of Scripture, 
 recorded in the gospels when the Pharisees 
 maligned the Lord, and He answered " If I by 
 Beelzebub the prince of the devils cast out 
 devils," * but we are also taught this by clear 
 visions and many experiences of the saints, 
 for when one of our brethren was making a 
 journey in this desert, as day was now declin- 
 ing he found a cave and stopped there mean- 
 ing to say his evening office in it, and there 
 midnight passed while he was still singing 
 the Psalms. And when after he had finished 
 his office he sat down a little before refresh- 
 ing his wearied body, on a sudden he began 
 to see innumerable troops of demons gather- 
 ing together on all sides, who came forward 
 in an immense crowd, and a long line, some 
 preceding and others following their prince; 
 who at length arrived, being taller and more 
 dreadful to look at than all the others; and, 
 a throne having been placed, he sat down as 
 on some lofty tribunal, and began to investi- 
 gate by a searching examination the actions 
 of each one of them ; and those who said 
 that they had not yet been able to circumvent 
 their rivals, he commanded to be driven out 
 of his sight with shame and ignominy as idle 
 and slothful, rebuking them with angry wrath 
 for the waste of so much time, and for their 
 
 labour thrown away: but those who reported 
 that they had deceived those assigned to them, 
 he dismissed before all with the highest praise 
 amidst the exultation and applause of all, 
 as most brave warriors, and most renowned as 
 an example to all the rest: and when in this 
 number some most evil spirit had presented 
 himself, in delight at having to relate some 
 magnificent triumph, he mentioned the name 
 of a very well known monk, and declared that 
 after having incessantly attacked him for fif- 
 teen years, he had at last got the better of him, 
 so as to destroy him that very same night by 
 the sin of fornication, for that he had not 
 only impelled him to commit adultery with 
 some consecrated maid, but had actually 
 persuaded him to keep her and marry her. 
 And when there arose shouts of joy at this 
 narrative, he was extolled with the highest 
 praise by the prince of darkness, and departed 
 crowned with great honours. And so when at 
 break of day the whole swarm of demons had 
 vanished from his eyes, the brother being 
 doubtful about the assertion of the unclean 
 spirit, and rather thinking that he had desired 
 to entice him by an ancient customary deceit, 
 and to brand an innocent brother with the 
 crime of incest, being mindful of those words 
 of the gospel; viz., that "he abode not in the 
 truth because there is no truth in him. 
 When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his 
 own, for he is a liar, and its father," 2 he 
 made his way to Pelusium, where he knew that 
 the man lived, whom the evil spirit declared 
 to be destroyed: for the brother was very well 
 known to him, and when he had asked him, 
 he found that on the same night on which 
 that foul demon had announced his downfall 
 to his company and prince, he had left his 
 former monastery, and sought the town, and 
 had gone astray by a wretched fall with the 
 girl mentioned. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Of the fact that two angels always cling to every man. 
 
 For Holy Scripture bears witness that 
 two angels, a good and a bad one, cling to 
 each one of us. And of the good ones the 
 Saviour says : " Do not despise one of these 
 little ones; for I say unto you that their 
 angels in heaven do always behold the face of 
 thy Father which is in heaven : " s and this 
 also: "the angel of the Lord shall encamp 
 round about them that fear Him. and deliver 
 them." 4 Moreover this also which is said in 
 
 1 S. Luke xi. 
 
 2 S. John viii. 44. 3 S. Matt, xviii. 10. * Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 8. 
 
382 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 the Acts of the Apostles, of Peter, that " it is 
 his angel." 1 But of both sorts the book of 
 the Shepherd teaches us very fully.' 2 But if 
 we consider about him who attacked the 
 blessed Job we shall clearly learn that it was 
 he who always plotted against him but never 
 could entice him to sin, and that therefore he 
 asked for power from the Lord, as he was 
 worsted not by his (Job's) virtue but by the 
 Lord's protection which ever shielded him. 
 Of Judas also it is said: "And let the devil 
 stand at his right hand. " 3 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Of the degrees of wickedness which exist in hostile spirits, as 
 shown in the case of two philosophers. 
 
 But of the difference that there is between 
 demons we have learnt a great deal by means 
 of those two philosophers who formerly by 
 acts of magic had oftentimes great experience 
 both of their laziness and of their courage and 
 savage wickedness. For these looking down 
 on the blessed Antony as a boor and rustic, 
 and wanting, if they could not injure him 
 any further, at least to drive him from his 
 cell by illusions of magic and the devices of 
 demons, despatched against him most foul 
 spirits, for they were impelled to this attack 
 upon him by the sting of jealousy because 
 enormous crowds came daily to him as the 
 servant of God. And when these most savage 
 demons did not even venture to approach 
 him as he was now signing his breast and 
 forehead with the sign of the cross, and, now 
 devoting himself to prayer and supplication, 
 they returned without any result to those who 
 had directed them ; and these again sent against 
 him others more desperate in wickedness, and 
 when these too had spent their strength in 
 vain, and returned without having accom- 
 plished anything, and others still more power- 
 ful were nevertheless told off against the 
 victorious soldier of Christ, and could prevail 
 nothing against him, all these great plots of 
 theirs devised with all the arts of magic were 
 only useful in proving the great value that 
 there is in the profession of Christians, so that 
 those fierce and powerful shadows, which they 
 thought would veil the sun and moon if they 
 
 1 Acts xii. 15. 
 
 2 The reference is to the Pastor or Shepherd of Hermas, a work 
 of the second century. The passage to which Cassian alludes is 
 found in Book II. Commandm. vi. ; where it is said that " there are 
 two angels with a man, one of righteousness and the other of iniquity," 
 and suggestions are given how to recognize each of them and to dis- 
 tinguish the suggestions of the one from those of the other. The 
 passage is also alluded to by Origen, De Principiis, Book III. c. ii. 
 and Horn. xxxv. in (Lucam); and Cassian refers to it again in 
 Conf. XIII. c. xii. 
 
 3 Ps. cviii. (cix.) 6. 
 
 were directed towards them, could not only 
 not injure him, but not even draw him forth 
 from his monastery for a single instant. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Of the fact that devils cannot prevail at all against men unless 
 they have first secured possession of their minds. 
 
 And when in their astonishment at this they 
 came straight to Abbot Antony and disclosed 
 the extent of their attacks and the reason of 
 them and their plots, they dissembled their 
 jealousy and asked that they might forthwith 
 be made Christians. But when he had asked 
 of them the day when the assault was made, 
 he declared that at that time he had been 
 afflicted with the most bitter pangs of thought. 
 And by this experience the blessed Antony 
 proved and established the opinion which we 
 expressed yesterday in our Conference, that 
 demons cannot possibly find an entrance into 
 the mind or body of anyone, nor have they the 
 power of overwhelming the soul of anyone, 
 unless they have first deprived it of all holy 
 thoughts, and made it empty and free from 
 spiritual meditation. But you must know 
 that unclean spirits are obedient to men in 
 two ways. For either they are by divine 
 grace and power subject to the holiness of 
 the faithful, or they are captivated by the 
 sacrifices of sinners, and certain charms, and 
 are flattered by them as their worshippers. 
 And the Pharisees too were led astray by this 
 notion and fancied that by this device even 
 the Lord the Saviour gave commands to devils, 
 and said "By Beelzebub the prince of the 
 devils He casteth out devils," in accordance 
 with that plan by which they knew that their 
 own magicians and enchanters — by invoking 
 his name and offering sacrifices, with which 
 they know he is pleased and delighted — have 
 as his servants power even over the devils 
 who are subject to him. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A question about the fallen angels who are said in Genesis to 
 have had intercourse with the daughters of men. 
 
 Germanus : Since a passage of Genesis 
 was a little while ago by the providence of 
 God brought forward in our midst, and happily 
 reminded us that we can now conveniently ask 
 about a point which we have always longed to 
 learn, we want to know what view we ought 
 to take about those fallen angels who are said 
 to have had intercourse with the daughters of 
 men, and whether such a thing can literally 
 
THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS. 
 
 383 
 
 take place with a spiritual nature. And also 
 with regard to this passage of the gospel 
 which you quoted of the devil a little while 
 back, ''for he is a liar and his father," 1 we 
 should like in the same way to hear who is to 
 be understood by "his father." 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 The answer to the question raised. 
 
 Serenus: You have propounded two not 
 unimportant questions, to which I will reply, 
 to the best of my ability, in the order in which 
 you have raised them. We cannot possibly 
 believe that spiritual existences can have 
 carnal intercourse with women. But if this 
 could ever have literally happened how is it 
 that it does not now also sometimes take place, 
 and that we do not see some in the same way 
 born of women by the agency of demons with- 
 out intercourse with men? especially when 
 it is clear that they delight in the pollution of 
 lust, which they would certainly prefer to bring 
 about through their own agency rather than 
 through that of men, if they could possibly 
 manage it, as Ecclesiastes declares : " What is 
 it that hath been? The same that is. And 
 what is it that hath been done ? The same 
 that is done. And there is nothing new that 
 can be said under the sun, so that a man can 
 say: Behold this is new; for it hath already 
 been in the ages which were before us." 2 
 But the question raised may be resolved in 
 this way. After the death of righteous 
 Abel, in order that the whole human race 
 might not spring from a wicked fratricide, 
 Seth was born in the place of his brother who 
 was slain, to take the place of his brother not 
 only as regards posterity, but also as regards 
 justice and goodness. And his offspring, fol- 
 lowing the example of their father's goodness, 
 always remained separate from intercourse 
 with and the society of their kindred de- 
 scended from the wicked Cain, as the differ- 
 ence of the genealogy very clearly tells us, 
 where it says: "Adam begat Seth, Seth begat 
 Enos, Enos begat Cainan, but Cainan begat 
 Mahalaleel, but Mahalaleel begat Jared, Jared 
 begat Enoch, Enoch begat Methuselah, Me- 
 thuselah begat Lamech, Lamech begat Noah. " 3 
 And the genealogy of Cain is given separately 
 as follows: "Cain begat Enoch, Enoch begat 
 
 1 S. John viii. 44. We find from Augustine (Tract, xxiv. in 
 Johan.) that the Manichees interpreted this text as implying that the 
 devil had a father, translating it " For he is a liar, and so is his 
 father." Augustine himself explains it as Abbot Serenus does below 
 in c. xxv.; viz., that the devil is not only a liar himself but the parent 
 of lies. 
 
 2 Eccl. i. 9, 10. 3 Gen. v. 4-30. 
 
 Cainan, Cainan begat Mahalaleel, Mahalaleel 
 begat Methuselah, Methuselah begat Lamech, 
 Lamech begat Jabal and Jubal." 4 And so the 
 line which sprang from the seed of righteous 
 Seth always mixed with its own kith and kin, 
 and continued for a long while in the holiness 
 of its fathers and ancestors, untouched by the 
 blasphemies and the wickedness of an evil 
 offspring, which had implanted in it a seed of 
 sin as it were transmitted by its ancestors. 
 As long then as there continued that separation 
 of the lines between them, the seed of Seth, as 
 it sprang from an excellent root, was by reason 
 of its sanctity termed "angels of God," or as 
 some copies have it " sons of God ;" 5 and on the 
 contrary the others by reason of their own and 
 their fathers' wickedness and their earthly 
 deeds were termed " children of men." Though 
 then there was up to this time that holy and 
 salutary separation between them, yet after 
 this the sons of Seth who were the sons of 
 God saw the daughters of those who were 
 born of the line of Cain, and inflamed with 
 the desire for their beauty took to themselves 
 from them wives who taught their husbands 
 the wickedness of their fathers, and at once 
 led them astray from their innate holiness and 
 the single-mindedness of their forefathers. 
 To whom this saying applies with sufficient 
 accuracy : " I have said : Ye are Gods, and ye 
 are all the children of the Most High. But 
 ye shall die like men, and fall like one of the 
 princes; " 6 who fell away from that true study 
 of natural philosophy, handed down to them by 
 their ancestors, which the first man who forth- 
 with traced out the study of all nature, could 
 clearly attain to, and transmit to his descen- 
 dants on sure grounds, inasmuch as he had 
 seen the infancy of this world, while still as 
 it were tender and throbbing and unorganized; 
 and as there was in him not only such fulness 
 of wisdom, but also the grace of prophecy 
 given by the Divine inspiration, so that while 
 he was still an untaught inhabitant of this 
 world he gave names to all living creatures, 
 and not only knew about the fury and poison 
 of all kinds of beasts and serpents, but also dis- 
 tinguished between the virtues of plants and 
 trees and the natures of stones, and the changes 
 of seasons of which he had as yet no expe- 
 rience, so that he could well say : " The Lord 
 
 * Gen. iv. 17-21. 
 
 5 In Gen. vi.2 the MSS. of the LXX. fluctuate between ayyeXoi 
 toO 9eov and viol tov 6eov. The interpretation of the passage 
 which Cassian here rejects is adopted by Philo and Josephus, the 
 book of Enoch, and several of the early fathers, including Justin 
 Martyr, Tertullian, Clement of Alexandria, Lactantius and others. 
 The explanation, which Cassian here gives, taking the " sons of God" 
 of theSethites,and the " daughters of men " of the line of Cain, is ap- 
 parently first found in Julius Africanus (ot awo toO 2tj# (Si'/caiot), 
 and is adopted among others by Augustine, De Civitate Dei, Book 
 XV. xxiii., where the passage is fully discussed. 
 
 6 Ps. lxxxi. (lxxxii.) 6, 7. 
 
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 hath given me the true knowledge of the things 
 that are, to know the disposition of the whole 
 world, and the virtues of the elements, the 
 beginning and the ending and the midst of 
 times, the alterations of their courses and 
 the changes of their seasons, the revolutions 
 of the year and the disposition of the stars, the 
 natures of living creatures and the rage of wild 
 beasts, the force of winds, and the reasonings 
 of men, the diversities of plants and the virtues 
 of roots, and all such things as are hid and 
 open I have learnt." 1 This knowledge then 
 of all nature the seed of Seth received 
 through successive generations, handed down 
 from the fathers, so long as it remained sepa- 
 rate from the wicked line, and as it had 
 received it in holiness, so it made use of it to 
 promote the glory of God and the needs of 
 everyday life. But when it had been mingled 
 with the evil generation, it drew aside at the 
 suggestion of devils to profane and harmful 
 uses what it had innocently learnt, and auda- 
 ciously taught by it the curious arts of wizards 
 and enchantments and magical superstitions, 
 teaching its posterity to forsake the holy wor- 
 ship of the Divinity and to honour and worship 
 either the elements or fire or the demons of 
 the air. How it was then that this knowledge 
 of curious arts of which we have spoken, did 
 not perish in the deluge, but became known 
 to the ages that followed, should, I think, 
 be briefly explained, as the occasion of this 
 discussion suggests, although the answer to 
 the question raised scarcely requires it. And 
 so, as ancient traditions tell us, Ham the son of 
 Noah, who had been taught these superstitions 
 and wicked and profane arts, as he knew that 
 he could not possibly bring any handbook on 
 these subjects into the ark, into which he was 
 to enter with his good father and holy brothers, 
 inscribed these nefarious arts and profane 
 devices on plates of various metals which 
 could not be destroyed by the flood of waters, 
 and on hard rocks, and when the flood was 
 over he hunted for them with the same inqui- 
 sitiveness with which he had concealed them, 
 and so transmitted to his descendants a seed- 
 bed of profanity and perpetual sin. In this 
 way then that common notion, according to 
 which men believe that angels delivered to 
 men enchantments and diverse arts, is in truth 
 fulfilled. From these sons of Seth then and 
 daughters of Cain, as we have said, there were 
 Dorn still worse children who became mighty 
 hunters, violent and most fierce men who 
 were termed giants by reason of the size of 
 their bodies and their cruelty and wickedness. 
 For these first began to harass their neighbours 
 
 1 Wis. vii. 17-21. 
 
 and to practise pillaging among men, getting 
 their living rather by rapine than by being 
 contented with the sweat and labour of toil, 
 and their wickedness increased to such a pitch 
 that the world could only be purified by the 
 flood and deluge. So then when the sons of 
 Seth at the instigation of their lust had trans- 
 gressed that command which had been for a 
 long while kept by a natural instinct from the 
 beginning of the world, it was needful that it 
 should afterwards be restored by the letter of 
 the law: "Thou shalt not give thy daughter to 
 his son to wife, nor shalt thou take a wife of 
 his daughters to thy son; for they shall seduce 
 your hearts to depart from your God, and to 
 follow their gods and serve them." 2 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 An objection, as to how an unlawful intermingling with the 
 daughters of Cain could be charged against the line of Seth 
 before the prohibition of the law. 
 
 Germanus : If that command had been 
 given to them, then the sin of breaking it 
 might fairly have been brought against them 
 for their audacity in so marrying. But since 
 the observance of that separation had not yet 
 been established by any rule, how could that 
 intermingling of races be counted wrong in 
 them, as it had not been forbidden by any 
 command? For a law does not ordinarily 
 forbid crimes that are past, but those that are 
 future. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 The answer, that by the law of nature men were from the 
 beginning liable to judgment and punishment. 
 
 Serenus: God at man's creation implanted 
 in him naturally complete knowledge of the 
 law, and if this had been kept by man, as 
 at the beginning, according to the Lord's 
 purposes, there would not have been any need 
 for another law to be given, which He after- 
 wards proclaimed in writing: for it were 
 superfluous for an external remedy to be 
 offered, where an internal one was still im- 
 planted and vigorous. But since this had 
 been, as we have said, utterly corrupted by 
 freedom and. the opportunity of sinning, the 
 severe restrictions of the law of Moses were 
 added as the executor and vindicator of this 
 (earlier law) and to use the expressions of 
 Scripture, as its helper, that through fear of 
 immediate punishment men might be kept 
 from altogether losing the good of natural 
 
 2 Deut. viii. 3; Exod. xxxiv. 16: cf. 1 Kings xi. 2. 
 
THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS. 
 
 385 
 
 knowledge, according to the word of the 
 prophet who says " He gave the law to help 
 them : " * and it is also described by the 
 Apostle as having been given as a school- 
 master 2 to little children, as it instructs and 
 guards them to prevent them from departing 
 through sheer forgetfulness from the teaching 
 in which they had been instructed by the light 
 of nature : for that the complete knowledge of 
 the law was implanted in man at his first 
 creation, is clearly proved from this; viz., that 
 we know that before the law, aye, and even 
 before the flood, all holy men observed the 
 commands of the law without having the letter 
 to read. For how could Abel, without the 
 command of the law, have known that he 
 ought to offer to God a sacrifice of the first- 
 lings of his flock and of the fat thereof, 3 un- 
 less he had been taught by the law which was 
 naturally implanted in him ? How could Noah 
 have distinguished what animals were clean 
 and what were unclean, 4 when the command- 
 ment of the law had not yet made a distinc- 
 tion, unless he had been taught by a natural 
 knowledge ? Whence did Enoch learn how to 
 "walk with God," 5 having never acquired 
 any light of the law from another? Where 
 had Shem and Japheth read "Thou shalt not 
 uncover the nakedness of thy father," so that 
 they went backwards and covered the shame of 
 their father? 6 How was Abraham taught to 
 abstain from the spoils of the enemy which were 
 offered to him, that he might not receive any 
 recompense for his toil, or to pay to the priest 
 Melchizedec the tithes which are ordered by 
 the law of Moses? 7 How was it too that 
 the same Abraham and Lot also humbly 
 offered to passers by and strangers offices of 
 kindness and the washing of their feet, while 
 yet the Evangelic command had not shone 
 forth ? 8 Whence did Job obtain such earnest- 
 ness of faith, such purity of chastity, such 
 knowledge of humility, gentleness, pity and 
 kindness, as we now see shown not even by 
 those who know the gospels by heart? Which 
 of the saints do we read of as not having 
 observed some commandment of the law before 
 the giving of the law? Which of them failed 
 to keep this: "Hear, O Israel, the Lord thy 
 God is one Lord? " 9 Which of them did not 
 fulfil this : " Thou shalt not make to thyself any 
 graven image, nor the likeness of anything 
 which is in heaven or in the earth or under 
 the earth ? " Which of them did not observe 
 this: " Honour thy father and thy mother," or 
 what follows in the Decalogue : " Thou shalt 
 
 1 Is. viii. 20 (LXX.). 
 
 2 Cf. Gal. iii. 24. 
 
 3 Gen. iv. 4. 
 * Gen. vii. 2. 
 5 Gen. v. 22. 
 
 8 Gen. ix. 23 ; Lev. xviii. 7. 
 
 7 Gen. xiv. 20, 22. 
 
 8 Gen. xviii., xix. ; cf. S. John xiii. 34. 
 
 9 Deut. vi. 4. 
 
 do no murder; Thou shalt not commit adul- 
 tery; Thou shalt not steal; Thou shalt not 
 bear false witness ; Thou shalt not covet thy 
 neighbour's wife," 10 and many other things be- 
 sides, in which they anticipated the commands 
 not only of the law but even of the gospel ? 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Of the fact that they were justly punished, who sinned before 
 the flood. 
 
 And so then we see that from the beginning 
 God created everything perfect, nor would 
 there have been need for anything to have 
 been added to His original arrangement — as 
 if it were shortsighted and imperfect — if 
 everything had continued in that state and 
 condition in which it had been created by 
 Him. And therefore in the case of those 
 who sinned before the law and even before the 
 flood we see that God visited them with a 
 righteous judgment, because they deserved to 
 be punished without any excuse, for having 
 transgressed the law of nature ; nor should we 
 fall into the blasphemous slanders of those 
 who are ignorant of this reason, and so depre- 
 ciate the God of the Old Testament, and run 
 down our faith, and say with a sneer: Why 
 then did it please your God to will to promul- 
 gate the law after so many thousand years, 
 while He suffered such long ages to pass with- 
 out any law? But if He afterwards discovered 
 something better, then it appears that at the 
 beginning of the world His wisdom was infe- 
 rior and poorer, and that afterwards as if taught 
 by experience He began to provide for some- 
 thing better, and to amend and improve His 
 original arrangements. A thing which cer- 
 tainly cannot happen to the infinite foreknow- 
 ledge of God, nor can these assertions be made 
 about Him by the mad folly of heretics with- 
 out grievous blasphemy, as Ecclesiastes says : 
 " I have learnt that all the words which God 
 hath made from the beginning shall continue 
 forever: nothing can be added to them, and 
 nothing can be taken away from them," n and 
 therefore " the law is not made for the righteous, 
 but for the unrighteous, and insubordinate, for 
 the ungodly and sinners, for the wicked and 
 profane." 1 ' 2 For as they had the sound and 
 complete system of natural laws implanted in 
 them they had no need of this external law in 
 addition, and one committed to writing, and 
 what was given as an aid to that natural law. 
 From which we infer by the clearest of reason- 
 ings that that law committed to writing need not 
 have been given at the beginning (for it was 
 
 i» Exod. xx. 4-17. J1 Eccl. iii. 14. (LXX.). ^ 1 Tim. i-9. 
 
3 86 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 unnecessary for this to be done while the 
 natural law still remained, and was not utterly 
 violated) nor could evangelical perfection 
 have been granted before the law had been 
 kept. For they could not have listened to this 
 saying: "If a man strikes thee on the right 
 cheek, turn to him the other also," 1 who were 
 not content to avenge wrongs done to them 
 with the even justice of the lex talionis, but 
 repaid a very slight touch with deadly kicks 
 and wounds with weapons, and for a single 
 truth sought to take the life of those who had 
 struck them. Nor could it be said to them. 
 "love your enemies," 2 among whom it was 
 considered a great thing and most important 
 if they loved their friends, but avoided their 
 enemies and dissented from them only in 
 hatred without being eager to oppress and 
 kill them. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 How this that is said of the devil in the gospel is to be under- 
 stood ; viz., that " he is a liar, and his father." 
 
 But as for this which disturbed you about 
 the devil, that "he is a liar and his father," 3 
 as if it seemed that he and his father were 
 pronounced by the Lord to be liars, it is 
 sufficiently ridiculous to imagine this even 
 cursorily. For as we said a little while ago 
 spirit does not beget spirit just as soul cannot 
 procreate soul, though we do not doubt that 
 the compacting of flesh is formed from man's 
 seed, as the Apostle clearly distinguishes in 
 the case of both substances ; viz., flesh and 
 spirit, what should be ascribed to whom as its 
 author, and says : " Moreover we have had 
 fathers of our flesh for instructors, and we reve- 
 renced them : shall we not much more be in 
 subjection to the Father of spirits and live ? " 4 
 What could show more clearly than this dis- 
 tinction, that he laid down that men were the 
 fathers of our flesh, but always taught that 
 God alone was the Father of souls. Although 
 even in the actual compacting of this body a 
 ministerial office alone must be attributed to 
 men, but the chief part of its formation to 
 God the Creator of all, as David says: "Thy 
 hands have made me and fashioned me : " 5 
 And the blessed Job: "Hast thou not milked 
 me as milk, and curdled me as cheese? Thou 
 hast put me together with bones and sinews ; " 6 
 and the Lord to Jeremiah : " Before I formed 
 thee in the womb, I knew thee." 7 But Eccle- j 
 siastes very clearly and accurately gathers 
 the nature of either substance, and its begin- 
 
 1 S. Matt. v. 39. 
 
 2 lb. ver. 44. 
 
 3 S. John viii. 44. 
 
 4 Heb. xii. 9. 
 
 6 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 73. 
 
 6 Job x. 10, 11. 
 
 7 Jer. i. 5. 
 
 ning, by an examination of the rise and com- 
 mencement, from which each originated, and 
 by a consideration of the end to which each is 
 tending, and decides also of the division of 
 this body and soul, and discourses as follows : 
 " Before the dust returns to the earth as it was, 
 and the spirit returns unto God who gave it. " 8 
 But what could be said with greater plainness 
 than that he declares that the matter of the 
 flesh which he styled dust, because it springs 
 from the seed of man, and seems to be sown 
 by his ministration, must, as it was taken 
 from the earth, again return to the earth, 
 while he points out that the spirit which 
 is not begotten by intercourse between the 
 sexes, but belongs to God alone in a special 
 way, returns to its creator? And this' also 
 is clearly implied in that breathing by God, 
 through which Adam in the first instance 
 received his life. And so from these passages 
 we clearly infer that no one can be called the 
 Father of spirits but God alone, who makes 
 them out of nothing whenever He pleases, 
 while men can only be termed the fathers 
 of our flesh. So then the devil also in as 
 much as he was created a spirit or an angel 
 and good, had no one as his Father but God 
 his Maker. But when he had become puffed 
 up by pride and had said in his heart : " I will 
 ascend above the heights of the clouds, I will 
 be like the Most High," 9 he became a liar, and 
 ' ' abode not in the truth ; " 10 but brought forth 
 a lie from his own storehouse of wickedness 
 and so became not only a liar, but also the 
 father of the actual lie, by which when he 
 promised Divinity to man and said "Ye shall 
 be as gods," n he abode not in the truth, but 
 from the beginning became a murderer, both 
 by bringing Adam into a state of mortality, and 
 by slaying Abel by the hand of his brother 
 at his suggestion. But already the approach 
 of dawn is bringing to a close our discus- 
 sion, which has occupied nearly two whole 
 nights, and our brief and simple words have 
 drawn our bark of this Conference from the 
 deep sea of questions to a safe harbour of 
 silence, in which deep indeed, as the breath 
 of the Divine Spirit drives us further in, so is 
 there ever opened out a wider and boundless 
 space reaching beyond the sight of our eye, 
 and, as Solomon says, " It will become much 
 further from us than it was, and a great depth ; 
 who shall find it out ? " 12 Wherefore let us 
 pray the Lord that both His fear and His 
 love, which cannot fail, may continue stead- 
 fast in us, and make us wise in all things, 
 and ever shield us unharmed, from the darts 
 
 8 Eccl. xii. 7. 
 8 Is. xiv. 14. 
 
 10 S. John viii 44. 
 
 11 Gen. iii. 5. 
 
 12 Eccl. vii. 25. 
 
THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC. 
 
 387 
 
 of the devil. For with these guards it is im- 
 possible for anyone to fall into the snares of 
 death. But there is this difference between 
 the perfect and imperfect, that in the case of 
 the former love is steadfast, and so to speak 
 riper and lasts more abidingly and so makes 
 them persevere in holiness more steadfastly 
 and more easily, while in the case of the latter 
 
 its position is weaker and it more easily grows 
 cold, and so quickly and more frequently 
 allows them to be entangled in the snares of 
 sin. And when we heard this, the words of 
 this Conference so fired us that when we went 
 away from the old man's cell we longed with 
 a keener ardour of soul than when we first 
 came, for the fulfilment of his teaching. 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC. 
 
 ON PR A YER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Introduction to the Conference. 
 
 What was promised in the second book of 
 the Institutes 1 on continual and unceasing 
 perseverance in prayer, shall be by the Lord's 
 help fulfilled by the Conferences of this Elder, 
 whom we will now bring forward ; viz. , Abbot 
 Isaac : 2 and when these have been propounded 
 I think that I shall have satisfied the com- 
 mands of Pope Castor of blessed memory, and 
 your wishes, O blessed Pope Leontius and 
 holy brother Helladius, and the length of the 
 book in its earlier part may be excused, 
 though, in spite of our endeavour not only to 
 compress what had to be told into a brief 
 discourse, but also to pass over very many 
 points in silence, it has been extended to a 
 greater length than we intended. For having 
 commenced with a full discourse on various 
 regulations which we have thought it well to 
 curtail for the sake of brevity, at the close 
 the blessed Isaac spoke these words. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The words of Abbot Isaac on the nature of prayer. 
 
 The aim of every monk and the perfection 
 of his heart tends to continual and unbroken 
 perseverance in prayer, and, as far as it is 
 allowed to human frailty, strives to acquire 
 an immovable tranquillity of mind and a per- 
 
 1 See the Institutes Book II. c. ix. 
 
 2 Isaac was, as we gather from c. xxxi., a disciple of St. Antony, 
 and is mentioned by Palladius Dial, de vita Chrysost. There are 
 also a few stories of him in the Apophegmnta Patrum (Migne, 
 Vol. lxv. p. 223); and see the Dictionary of Christian Biography, 
 Vol. iii. p. 294. 
 
 petual purity, for the sake of which we seek 
 unweariedly and constantly to practise all 
 bodily labours as well as contrition of spirit. 
 And there is between these two a sort of 
 reciprocal and inseparable union. For just 
 as the crown of the building of all virtues 
 is the perfection of prayer, so unless every- 
 thing has been united and compacted by this 
 as its crown, it cannot possibly continue 
 strong and stable. For lasting and continual 
 calmness in prayer, of which we are speaking, 
 cannot be secured or consummated without 
 them, so neither can those virtues which lay 
 its foundations be fully gained without per- 
 sistence in it. And so we shall not be able 
 either to treat properly of the effect of prayer, 
 or in a rapid discourse to penetrate to its 
 main end, which is acquired by labouring at 
 all virtues, unless first all those things which 
 for its sake must be either rejected or secured, 
 are singly enumerated and discussed, and, 
 as the Parable in the gospel teaches, 3 what- 
 ever concerns the building of that spiritual 
 and most lofty tower, is reckoned up and care- 
 fully considered beforehand. But yet these 
 things when prepared will be of no use nor 
 allow the lofty height of perfection to be 
 properly placed upon them unless a clearance 
 of all faults be first undertaken, and the 
 decayed and dead rubbish of the passions 
 be dug up, and the strong foundations of 
 simplicity and humility be laid on the solid 
 and (so to speak) living soil of our breast, or 
 rather on that rock of the gospel, 4 and by being 
 built in this way this tower of spiritual virtues 
 will rise, and be able to stand unmoved, and 
 be raised to the utmost heights of heaven in 
 full assurance of its stability. For if it rests 
 
 3 Cf. S. Luke xiv. 
 
 4 Cf. S. Luke vi. 4S. 
 
:SS 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 
 on such foundations, then though heavy storms 
 of passions break over it, though mighty tor- 
 rents of persecutions beat against it like a 
 battering ram, though a furious tempest of 
 spiritual foes dash against it and attack it, 
 yet not only will no ruin overtake it, but the 
 onslaught will not injure it even in the slight- 
 est degree. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 How pure and sincere prayer can be gained. 
 
 And therefore in order that prayer may be 
 offered up with that earnestness and purity 
 with which it ought to be, we must by all 
 means observe these rules. First all anxiety 
 about carnal things must be entirely got rid 
 of; next we must leave no room for not merely 
 the care but even the recollection of any busi- 
 ness affairs, and in like manner also must lay 
 aside all backbitings, vain and incessant 
 chattering, and buffoonery; anger above all, 
 and disturbing moroseness must be entirely 
 destroyed, and the deadly taint of carnal lust 
 and covetousness be torn up by the roots. 
 And so when these and such like faults 
 which are also visible to the eyes of men, are 
 entirely removed and cut off, and when such 
 a purification and cleansing, as we spoke of, 
 has first taken place, which is brought about 
 by pure simplicity and innocence, then first 
 there must be laid the secure foundations of 
 a deep humility, which may be able to support 
 a tower that shall reach the sky ; and next 
 the spiritual structure of the virtues must be 
 built up upon them, and the soul kept free 
 from all conversation and from roving thoughts 
 that thus it may by little and little begin to 
 rise to the contemplation of God and to spi- 
 ritual insight. For whatever our mind has 
 been thinking of before the hour of prayer, 
 is sure to occur to us while we are praying 
 through the activity of the memory. Where- 
 fore what we want to find ourselves like while 
 we are praying, that we ought to prepare our- 
 selves to be before the time for prayer. For the 
 mind in prayer is formed by its previous con- 
 dition, and when we are applying ourselves 
 to prayer the images of the same actions and 
 words and thoughts will dance before our 
 eyes, and make us either angry, as in our pre- 
 vious condition, or gloomy, or recall our former 
 lust and business, or make us shake with fool- 
 ish laughter (which I am ashamed to speak of) 
 at some silly joke, or smile at some action, or 
 fly back to our previous conversation. And 
 therefore if we do not want anything to haunt 
 us while we are praying, we should be careful 
 before our pra) er, to exclude it from the 
 
 shrine of our heart, that we may thus fulfill 
 the Apostle's injunction: "Pray without ceas- 
 ing;" and: "In every place lifting up holy 
 hands without wrath or disputing." 1 For other- 
 wise we shall not be able to carry out that 
 charge unless our mind, purified from all stains 
 of sin, and given over to virtue as to its natural 
 good, feed on the continual contemplation of 
 Almighty God. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Of the lightness of the soul which may be compared to a 
 wing or feather. 
 
 For the nature of the soul is not inaptly 
 compared to a very fine feather or very light 
 wing, which, if it has not been damaged or 
 affected by being spoilt by any moisture fall- 
 ing on it from without, is borne aloft almost 
 naturally to the heights of heaven by the 
 lightness of its nature, and the aid of the 
 slightest breath: but if it is weighted by any 
 moisture falling upon it and penetrating into 
 it, it will not only not be carried away by its 
 natural lightness into any aerial flights but 
 will actually be borne down to the depths of 
 earth by the weight of the moisture it has 
 received. So also our soul, if it is not 
 weighted with faults that touch it, and the 
 cares of this world, or damaged by the mois- 
 ture of injurious lusts, will be raised as it 
 were by the natural blessing of its own purity 
 and borne aloft to the heights by the light 
 breath of spiritual meditation; and leaving 
 things low and earthly will be transported to 
 those that are heavenly and invisible. Where- 
 fore we are well warned by the Lord's com- 
 mand : " Take heed that your hearts be not 
 weighed down by surfeiting and drunkenness 
 and the cares of this world." 2 And therefore 
 if we want our prayers to reach not only the 
 sky, but what is beyond the sky, let us be 
 careful to reduce our soul, purged from all 
 earthly faults and purified from every stain, 
 to its natural lightness, that so our prayer 
 may rise to God unchecked by the weight of 
 any sin. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Of the ways in which our soul is weighed down. 
 
 But we should notice the ways in which 
 the Lord points out that the soul is weighed 
 down: for He did not mention adultery, or 
 fornication, or murder, or blasphemy, or rapine, 
 which everybody knows to be deadly and 
 
 1 i Thess. v. 17 ; I Tim. ii. S. 
 
 2 S. Luke xxi. 34. 
 
THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC. 
 
 389 
 
 damnable, but surfeiting and drunkenness, 
 and the cares or anxieties of this world: 
 which men of this world are so far from avoid- 
 ing or considering damnable that actually- 
 some who (I am ashamed to say) call them- 
 selves monks entangle themselves in these 
 very occupations as if they were harmless or 
 useful. And though these three things, when 
 literally given way to weigh down the soul, 
 and separate it from God, and bear it down to 
 things earthly, yet it is very easy to avoid 
 them, especially for us who are separated by 
 so great a distance from all converse with 
 this world, and who do not on any occasion 
 have anything to do with those visible cares 
 and drunkenness and surfeiting. But there is 
 another surfeiting which is no less dangerous, 
 and a spiritual drunkenness which it is harder 
 to avoid, and a care and anxiety of this world, 
 which often ensnares us even after the perfect 
 renunciation of all our goods, and abstinence 
 from wine and all feastings and even when we 
 are living in solitude — and of such the prophet 
 says : " Awake, ye that are drunk but not with 
 wine;" 1 and another: "Be astonished and 
 wonder and stagger: be drunk and not with 
 wine: be moved, but not with drunkenness." 2 
 And of this drunkenness the wine must conse- 
 quently be what the prophet calls "the fury of 
 dragons " : and from what root the wine comes 
 you may hear : " From the vineyard of Sodom," 
 he says, " is their vine, and their branches from 
 Gomorrha." Would you also know about the 
 fruit of that vine and the seed of that branch? 
 "Their grape is a grape of gall, theirs is a 
 cluster of bitterness " 3 for unless we are alto- 
 gether cleansed from all faults and abstain- 
 ing from the surfeit of all passions, our heart 
 will without drunkenness from wine and excess 
 of any feasting be weighed down by a drunken- 
 ness and surfeiting that is still more dangerous. 
 For that worldly cares can sometimes fall on 
 us who mix with no actions of this world, is 
 clearly shown according to the rule of the 
 Elders, who have laid down that anything 
 which goes beyond the necessities of daily 
 food, and the unavoidable needs of the flesh, 
 belongs to worldly cares and anxieties, as for 
 example if, when a job bringing in a penny 
 would satisfy the needs of our body, we try to 
 extend it by a longer toil and work in order 
 to get twopence or threepence; and when a 
 covering of two tunics would be enough for 
 our use both by night and day, we manage to 
 become the owners of three or four, or when 
 a hut containing one or two cells would be 
 sufficient, in the pride of worldly ambition 
 and greatness we build four or five cells, and 
 
 1 Joel i. 5. 
 
 2 Is. xxix, 9. 
 
 3 Deut. xxxii. 32, 33. 
 
 these splendidly decorated, .and larger than 
 our needs required, thus showing the passion 
 of worldly lusts whenever we can. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Of the vision which a certain Elder saw concerning the rest- 
 less work of a brother. 
 
 And that this is not done without the 
 prompting of devils we are taught by the surest 
 proofs, for when one very highly esteemed 
 Elder was passing by the cell of a certain 
 brother who was suffering from this mental 
 disease of which we have spoken, as he was 
 restlessly toiling in his daily occupations in 
 building and repairing what was unnecessary, 
 he watched him from a distance breaking a 
 very hard stone with a heavy hammer," and 
 saw a certain Ethiopian standing over him and 
 together with him striking the blows of the 
 hammer with joined and clasped hands, and 
 urging him on with fiery incitements to dili- 
 gence in the work: and so he stood still for a 
 long while in astonishment at the force of the 
 fierce demon and the deceitfulness of such 
 an illusion. For when the brother was worn 
 out and tired and wanted to rest and put an 
 end to his toil, he was stimulated by the 
 spirit's prompting and urged on to resume his 
 hammer again and not to cease from devoting 
 himself to the work which he had begun, so 
 that being unweariedly supported by his in- 
 citements he did not feel the harm that so 
 great labour was doing him. At last then the 
 old man, disgusted at such a horrid mystifica- 
 tion by a demon, turned aside to the brother's 
 cell and saluted him, and asked "what work 
 is it, brother, that you are doing?" and he 
 replied: "We are working at this awfully 
 hard stone, and we can hardly break it at all." 
 Whereupon the Elder replied : " You were right 
 in saying 'we can, ' for you were not alone, 
 when you were striking it, but there was 
 another with you whom you did not see, 
 who was standing over you not so much to 
 help you as urge you on with all his force." 
 And thus the fact that the disease of worldly 
 vanity has not got hold of our hearts, will be 
 proved by no mere abstinence from those 
 affairs which even if we want to engage in, -we 
 cannot carry out, nor by the despising of those 
 matters which if we pursued them would make 
 us remarkable in the front rank among spi- 
 ritual persons as well as among worldly men, 
 but only when we reject with inflexible firm- 
 ness of mind whatever ministers to our power 
 and seems to be veiled in a show of right. 
 And in reality these things which seem trivial 
 
39° 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 and of no consequence, and which we see to 
 be permitted indifferently by those who belong 
 to our calling, none the less by their character 
 affect the soul than those more important 
 things, which according to their condition usu- 
 ally intoxicate the senses of worldly people 
 and which do not allow 1 a monk to lay aside 
 earthly impurities and aspire to God, on whom 
 his attention should ever be fixed; for in his 
 case even a slight separation from that highest 
 good must be regarded as present death and 
 most dangerous destruction. And when the 
 soul has been established in such a peaceful 
 condition, and has been freed from the meshes 
 of all carnal desires, and the purpose of the 
 heart has been steadily fixed on that which is 
 the only highest good, he will then fulfil this 
 Apostolic precept: "Pray without ceasing;" 
 and : " in every place lifting up holy hands 
 without wrath and disputing: " 2 for when by 
 this purity (if we can say so) the thoughts of 
 the soul are engrossed, and are re-fashioned 
 out of their earthly condition to bear a spirit- 
 ual and angelic likeness, whatever it receives, 
 whatever it takes in hand, whatever it does, the 
 prayer will be perfectly pure and sincere. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A question how it is that it is harder work to preserve than to 
 originate good thoughts. 
 
 Germanus: If only we could keep as a 
 lasting possession those spiritual thoughts in 
 the same way and with the same ease with 
 which we generally conceive their germs! for 
 when they have been conceived in our hearts 
 either through the recollection of the Scrip- 
 tures or by the memory of ' some spiritual 
 actions, or by gazing upon heavenly mysteries, 
 they vanish all too soon and disappear by a 
 sort of unnoticed flight. And when our soul 
 has discovered some other occasions for spi- 
 ritual emotions, different ones again crowd in 
 upon us, and those which we had grasped are 
 scattered, and lightly fly away so that the 
 mind retaining no persistency, and keeping of 
 its own power no firm hand over holy thoughts, 
 must be thought, even when it does seem to 
 retain them for a while, to have conceived 
 them at random and not of set purpose. For 
 how can we think that their rise should be 
 ascribed to our own will, if they do not last 
 and remain with us? But that we may not 
 owing to the consideration of this question 
 
 1 Siuentes, though the reading of almost all MSS. must be an 
 error either of the author or of a copyist for sinentia. 
 
 2 i Thess. v. 17; 1 Tiin. ii. S. 
 
 wander any further from the plan of the dis- 
 course we had commenced, or delay any longer 
 the explanation promised of the nature of 
 prayer, we will keep this for its own time, 
 and ask to be informed at once of the cha- 
 racter of prayer, especially as the blessed 
 Apostle exhorts us at no time to cease from 
 it, saying " Pray without ceasing. " And so we 
 want to be taught first of its character, i. e. , how 
 prayer ought always to be offered up, and 
 then how we can secure this, whatever it is, 
 and practise it without ceasing. For that it 
 cannot be done by any light purpose of heart 
 both daily experience and the explanation of 
 your holiness show us, as you have laid it 
 down that the aim of a monk, and the height 
 of all perfection consist in the consummation 
 of prayei. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Of the different characters of prayer. 
 
 Isaac : I imagine that all kinds of prayers 
 cannot be grasped without great purity of heart 
 and soul and the illumination of the Holy 
 Spirit. For there are as many of them as 
 there can be conditions and characters pro- 
 duced in one soul or rather in all souls. And 
 so although we know that owing to our dul- 
 ness of heart we cannot see all kinds of 
 prayers, yet we will try to relate them in some 
 order, as far as our slender experience enables 
 us to succeed. For according to the degree 
 of the purity to which each soul attains, and 
 the character of the state in which it is sunk 
 owing to what happens to it, or is by its own 
 efforts renewing itself, its very prayers will 
 each moment be altered : and therefore it is 
 quite clear that no one can always offer up 
 uniform prayers./' For every one prays in one 
 way when he is brisk, in another when he is 
 oppressed with a weight of sadness or despair, 
 in another when he is invigorated by spiritual 
 achievements, in another when cast down by the 
 burden of attacks, in another when he is ask- 
 ing pardon for his sins, in another when he 
 asks to obtain grace or some virtue or else 
 prays for the destruction of some sin, in another 
 when he is pricked to the heart by the thought 
 of hell and the fear of future judgment, in 
 another when he is aglow with the hope and 
 desire of good things to come, in another 
 when he is taken up with affairs and dangers, 
 in another when he is in peace and security, in 
 another when he is enlightened by the revela- 
 tion of heavenly mysteries, and in another 
 when he is depressed by a sense of barrenness 
 in virtues and dryness in feeling. 
 
THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC. 
 
 391 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Of the fourfold nature of prayer. 
 
 And therefore, when we have laid this down 
 with regard to the character of prayer, although 
 not so fully as the importance of the subject 
 requires, but as fully as the exigencies of 
 time permit, and at any rate as our slender 
 abilities admit, and our dulness of heart en- 
 ables us, — a still greater difficulty now awaits 
 us; viz., to expound one by one the different 
 kinds of prayer, which the Apostle divides in 
 a fourfold manner, when he says as follows : 
 "I exhort therefore first of all that suppli- 
 cations, prayers, intercessions, thanksgivings 
 be made." 1 And we cannot possibly doubt 
 that this division was not idly made by the 
 Apostle. And to begin with we must investi- 
 gate what is meant by supplication, by prayer, 
 by intercession, and by thanksgiving. Next 
 we must inquire whether these four kinds are 
 to be taken in hand by him who prays all at 
 once, i.e., are they all to be joined together in 
 every prayer, — or whether they are to be offered 
 up in turns and one by one, as, for instance, 
 ought at one time supplications, at another 
 prayers, at another intercessions, and at 
 another thanksgivings to be offered, or should 
 one man present to God supplications, another 
 prayers, another intercessions, another thanks- 
 givings, in accordance with that measure of 
 age, to which each soul is advancing by 
 earnestness of purpose? 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Of the order of the different kinds laid down with regard to the 
 character of prayer. 
 
 And so to begin with we must consider the 
 actual force of the names and words, and dis- 
 cuss what is the difference between prayer 
 and supplication and intercession; then in 
 like manner we must investigate whether they 
 are to be offered separately or all together: 
 and in the third place must examine whether 
 the particular order which is thus arranged by 
 the Apostle's authority has anything further 
 to teach the hearer, or whether the distinction 
 simply is to be taken, and it should be con- 
 sidered that they were arranged by him in- 
 differently in such a way : a thing which seems 
 to me utterly absurd. For one must not 
 believe that the Holy Spirit uttered anything 
 casually or without reason through the Apostle. 
 And so we will, as the Lord grants us, con- 
 sider them in the same order in which we 
 began. 
 
 1 1 Tim. ii. i. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Of Supplications. 
 
 "I exhort therefore first of all that suppli- 
 cations be made." Supplication is an implor- 
 ing or petition concerning sins, in which one 
 who is sorry for his present or past deeds asks 
 for pardon. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Of Prayer. 
 
 Prayers are those by which we offer or vow 
 something to God, what the Greeks call ei'tfrj, 
 i.e., a vow. For where we read in Greek iug 
 tvyuQ fjov toJ Kvqico dmodowo), in Latin we read: 
 " I will pay my vows unto the Lord ; " 2 where 
 according to the exact force of the words it 
 may be thus represented : " I will pay my 
 prayers unto the Lord." And this which we 
 find in Ecclesiastes : "If thou vowest a vow 
 unto the Lord do not delay to pay it," is writ- 
 ten in Greek likewise: hiv li>^ ivyji 1 ' Tf -J xvglco, 
 i.e., "If thou prayest a prayer unto the Lord, 
 do not delay to pay it," 3 which will be ful- 
 filled in this way by each one of us. We 
 pray, when we renounce this world and 
 promise that being dead to all worldly actions 
 and the life of this world we will serve the 
 Lord with full purpose of heart. We pray when 
 we promise that despising secular honours and 
 scorning earthly riches we will cleave to the 
 Lord in all sorrow of heart and humility of 
 spirit. We pray when we promise that we 
 will ever maintain the most perfect purity of 
 body and steadfast patience, or when we vow 
 that we will utterly root out of our heart the 
 roots of anger or of sorrow that worketh death. 
 And if, enervated by sloth and returning to 
 our former sins we fail to do this we shall be 
 guilty as regards our prayers and vows, and 
 these words will apply to us : " It is better not 
 to vow, than to vow and not to pay," which 
 can be rendered in accordance with the 
 Greek : " It is better for thee not to pray than 
 to pray and not to pay." 4 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Of Intercession. 
 
 In the third place stand intercessions, 
 which we are wont to offer up for others also, 
 while we are filled with fervour of spirit, 
 making request either for those dear to us or 
 
 1 Ps. cxv. 4 (cxvi. 14). 
 
 3 Eccl. 
 
 4 Ibid. ver. 4. 
 
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 for the peace of the whole world, and to use 
 the Apostle's own phrase, we pray "for all 
 men, for kings and all that are in authority." 1 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Of Thanksgiving. 
 
 Then in the fourth place there stand thanks- 
 givings which the mind in ineffable transports 
 offers up to God, either when it recalls God's 
 past benefits or when it contemplates His 
 present ones, or when it looks forward to those 
 great ones in the future which God has pre- 
 pared for them that love Him. And with 
 this purpose too sometimes we are wont to 
 pour forth richer prayers, while, as we gaze 
 with pure eyes on those rewards of the saints 
 which are laid up in store hereafter, our spirit 
 is stimulated to offer up unspeakable thanks 
 to God with boundless joy. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Whether these four kinds of prayers are necessary for everyone 
 to offer all at once or separately and in turns. 
 
 And of these four kinds, although some- 
 times occasions arise for richer and fuller 
 prayers (for from the class of supplications 
 which arises from sorrow for sin, and from the 
 kind of prayer which flows from confidence 
 in our offerings and the performance of our 
 vows in accordance with a pure conscience, 
 and from the intercession which proceeds 
 from fervour of love, and from the thanks- 
 giving which is born of the consideration of 
 God's blessings and His greatness and good- 
 ness, we know that oftentimes there proceed 
 most fervent and ardent prayers so that it is 
 clear that all these kinds of prayer of which 
 we have spoken are found to be useful and 
 needful for all men, so that in one and the 
 same man his changing feelings will give 
 utterance to pure and fervent petitions now 
 of supplications, now of prayers, now of inter- 
 cessions) yet the first seems to belong more 
 especially to beginners, who are still troubled 
 by the stings and recollection of their sins; 
 the second to those who have already attained 
 some loftiness of mind in their spiritual 
 progress and the quest of virtue ; the third to 
 those who fulfil the completion of their vows 
 by their works, and are so stimulated to inter- 
 cede for others also through the consideration 
 of their weakness, and the earnestness of 
 their love ; the fourth to those who have 
 
 i Tim. ii, 1,2. 
 
 already torn from their hearts the guilty thorns 
 of conscience, and thus being now free from 
 care can contemplate with a pure mind the 
 beneficence of God and His compassions, 
 which He has either granted in the past, or 
 is giving in the present, or preparing for the 
 future, and thus are borne onward with fervent 
 hearts to that ardent prayer which cannot be 
 embraced or expressed by the mouth of men. 
 Sometimes however the mind which is advan- 
 cing to that perfect state of purity and which 
 is already beginning to be established in it, 
 will take in all these at one and the same 
 time, and like some incomprehensible and 
 all-devouring flame, dart through them all 
 and offer up to God inexpressible prayers of 
 the purest force, which the Spirit Itself, in- 
 tervening with groanings that cannot be 
 uttered, while we ourselves understand not, 
 pours forth to God, grasping at that hour and 
 ineffably pouring forth in its supplications 
 things so great that they cannot be uttered 
 with the mouth nor even at any other time be 
 recollected by the mind. And thence it comes 
 that in whatever degree any one stands, he is 
 found sometimes to offer up pure and devout 
 prayers ; as even in that first and lowly station 
 which has to do with the recollection of future 
 judgment, he who still remains under the 
 punishment of terror and the fear of judgment 
 is so smitten with sorrow for the time being 
 that he is filled with no less keenness of spirit 
 from the richness of his supplications than 
 he who through the purity of his heart gazes 
 on and considers the blessings of God and is 
 overcome with ineffable joy and delight. 
 For, as the Lord Himself says, he begins to 
 love the more, who knows that he has been 
 forgiven the more. 2 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Of the kinds of prayer to which we ought to direct ourselves. 
 
 Yet we ought by advancing in life andjat- 
 taining to virtue to aim rather at those kinds 
 of prayer which are poured forth either from 
 the contemplation of the good things to come 
 or from fervour of love, or which at least, to 
 speak more humbly and in accordance with 
 the measure of beginners, arise for the acquire- 
 ment of some virtue or the extinction of some 
 fault. For otherwise we shall not possibly 
 attain to those sublimer kinds of supplication 
 of which we spoke, unless our mind has been 
 little by little and by degrees raised through 
 the regular course of those intercessions. 
 
 2 Cf. S. Luke vii. 47. 
 
THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC. 
 
 393 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 How the four kinds of supplication were originated by the 
 Lord. 
 
 These four kinds of supplication the Lord 
 Himself by His own example vouchsafed to 
 originate for us, so that in this too He might 
 fulfil that which was said of Him: "which 
 Jesus began both to do and to teach." 1 For 
 He made use of the class of supplication when 
 He said: "Father, if it be possible, let this 
 cup pass from me; " or this which is chanted 
 in His Person in the Psalm: "My God, My 
 God, look upon Me, why hast Thou forsaken 
 me," 2 and others like it. It is prayer where 
 He says: "I have magnified Thee upon the 
 earth, I have finished the work which Thou 
 gavest Me to do," and this: "And for their 
 sakes I sanctify Myself that they also may be 
 sanctified in the truth. " 3 It is intercession when 
 He says: "Father, those whom Thou hast 
 given me, I will that they also may be with 
 Me that they may see My glory which Thou 
 hast given Me; " or at any rate when He says: 
 ■ ' Father, forgive them for they know not what 
 they do." 4 It is thanksgiving when He says: 
 "I confess to Thee, Father, Lord of heaven 
 and earth, that Thou hast hid these things 
 from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed 
 them unto babes. Even so, Father, for so it 
 seemed good in Thy sight: " or at least when 
 He says: "Father, I thank Thee that Thou 
 hast heard Me. But I knew that Thou hear- 
 est Me always." 5 But though our Lord made 
 a distinction between these four kinds of pray- 
 ers as to be offered separately and one by one 
 according to the scheme which we know of, yet 
 that they can all be embraced in a perfect 
 prayer at one and the same time He showed 
 by His own example in that prayer which at 
 the close of S. John's gospel we read that 
 He offered up with such fulness. From the 
 words of which (as it is too long to repaat it 
 all) the careful inquirer can discover by the 
 order of the passage that this is so. And the 
 Apostle also in his Epistle to the Philippians 
 has expressed the same meaning, by putting 
 these four kinds of prayers in a slightly differ- 
 ent order, and has shown that they ought 
 sometimes to be offered together in the fervour 
 of a single prayer, saying as follows: "But in 
 everything by prayer and supplication with 
 thanksgiving let your requests be made known 
 unto God." 6 And by this he wanted us 
 
 1 Acts i. i. 
 
 2 S. Matt. xxvi. 39; Ps. xxi. (xxii.) 2. 
 
 3 S. John xvii.4, 19. 
 
 4 lb. 24; S. Luke xxiii. 34. 
 
 6 S. Matt. xi. 25, 26; S. John xi. 41, 42. 
 c Phil. iv. 6. 
 
 especially to understand that in prayer and 
 supplication thanksgiving ought to be mingled 
 with our requests. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Of the Lord's Prayer. 
 
 And so there follows after these different 
 kinds of supplication a still more sublime 
 and exalted condition which is brought about 
 by the contemplation of God alone and by 
 fervent love, by which the mind, transporting 
 and flinging itself into love for Him, ad- 
 dresses God most familiarly as its own Father 
 with a piety of its own. And that we ought 
 earnestly to seek after this condition the 
 formula of the Lord's prayer teaches us, say- 
 ing "Our Father." When then we confess 
 with our own mouths that the God and Lord 
 of the universe is our Father, we profess 
 forthwith that we have been called from our 
 condition as slaves to the adoption of sons, 
 adding next "Which art in heaven," that, by 
 shunning with the utmost horror all lingering 
 in this present life, which we pass upon this 
 earth as a pilgrimage, and what separates us 
 by a great distance from our Father, we may 
 the rather hasten with all eagerness to that 
 country where we confess that our Father 
 dwells, and may not allow anything of this 
 kind, which would make us unworthy of this 
 our profession and the dignity of an adoption 
 of this kind, and so deprive us as a disgrace 
 to our Father's inheritance, and make us in- 
 cur the wrath of His justice and severity. 
 To which state and condition of sonship 
 when we have advanced, we shall forthwith be 
 inflamed with the piety which belongs to good 
 sons, so that we shall bend all our energies 
 to the advance not of our own profit, but of 
 our Father's glory, saying to Him: "Hallowed 
 be Thy name," testifying that our desire and 
 our joy is His glory, becoming imitators of 
 Him who said: "He who speaketh of himself, 
 seeketh his own glory. But He who seeks 
 the glory, of Him who sent Him, the same 
 is true and there is no unrighteousness in 
 Him." 7 Finally the chosen vessel being 
 filled with this feeling wished that he could 
 be anathema from Christ 8 if only the people 
 belonging to Him might be increased and 
 multiplied, and the salvation of the whole 
 nation of Israel accrue to the glory of His 
 Father; for with all assurance could he wish 
 to die for Christ as he knew that no one 
 perished for life. And again he says: "We 
 
 7 S. John vii. 18. 
 
 8 Cf. Rom. ix. 3. 
 
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 rejoice when we are weak but ye are strong." x 
 And what wonder if the chosen vessel wished 
 to be anathema from Christ for the sake of 
 Christ's glory and the conversion of His own 
 brethren and the privilege of the nation, when 
 the prophet Micah wished that he might be a 
 liar and a stranger to the inspiration of the 
 Holy Ghost, if only the people of the Jews 
 might escape those plagues and the going 
 forth into captivity which he had announced 
 in his prophecy, saying : " Would that I were 
 not a man that hath the Spirit, and that I 
 rather spoke a lie; " 2 — to pass over that wish 
 of the Lawgiver, who did not refuse to die 
 together with his brethren who were doomed 
 to death, saying: " I beseech Thee, O Lord; 
 this people hath sinned a heinous sin; either 
 forgive them this trespass, or if Thou do not, 
 blot me out of Thy book which Thou hast 
 written. " 3 But where it is said " Hallowed be 
 Thy name," it may also be very fairly taken in 
 this way : " The hallowing of God is our perfec- 
 tion. " And so when we say to Him " Hallowed 
 be Thy name " we say in other words, make 
 us, O Father, such that we may be able both to 
 understand and take in what the hallowing of 
 Thee is, or at any rate that Thou mayest be 
 seen to be hallowed in our spiritual converse. 
 And this is effectually fulfilled in our case 
 when " men see our good works, and glorify our 
 Father which is in heaven." 4 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Of the clause " Thy kingdom come." 
 
 The second petition of the pure heart 
 desires that the kingdom of its Father may 
 come at once ; viz., either that whereby Christ 
 reigns day by day in the saints (which comes 
 to pass when the devil's rule is cast out of 
 our hearts by the destruction of foul sins, and 
 God begins to hold sway over us by the sweet 
 odour of virtues, and, fornication being over- 
 come, charity reigns in our hearts together 
 with tranquillity, when rage is conquered; 
 and humility, when pride is trampled under 
 foot) or else that which is promised in due 
 time to all who are perfect, and to all the 
 sons of God, when it will be said to them 
 by Christ: "Come ye blessed of My Father, 
 inherit the kingdom prepared for you from 
 the foundation of the world ; " 5 (as the heart) 
 with fixed and steadfast gaze, so to speak, 
 yearns and longs for it and says to Him "Thy 
 
 kingdom come." For it knows by the witness 
 of its own conscience that when He shall 
 appear, it will presently share His lot. For 
 no guilty person would dare either to say or 
 to wish for this, for no one would want to 
 face the tribunal of the Judge, who knew that 
 at His coming he would forthwith receive not 
 the prize or reward of his merits but only 
 punishment. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Of the clause " Thy will be done." 
 
 The third petition is that of sons: "Thy 
 will be done. as in heaven so on earth." There 
 can now be no grander prayer than to wish 
 that earthly things may be made equal with 
 things heavenly: for what else is it to say 
 "Thy will be done as in heaven so on earth," 
 than to ask that men may be like angels and 
 that as God's will is ever fulfilled by them in 
 heaven, so also all those who are on earth 
 may do not their own but His will? This 
 too no one could say from the heart but only 
 one who believed that God disposes for our 
 good all things which are seen, whether fortu- 
 nate or unfortunate, and that He is more care- 
 ful and provident for our good and salvation 
 than we ourselves are for ourselves. Or at 
 any rate it may be taken in this way : The will 
 of God is the salvation of all men, according 
 to these words of the blessed Paul : " Who 
 willeth all men to be saved and to come to 
 the knowledge of the truth." 6 Of which will 
 also the prophet Isaiah savs in the Person of 
 God the Father: "And all Thy will shall be 
 done. " 7 When we say then " Thy will be done 
 as in heaven so on earth," we pray in other 
 words for this; viz., that as those who are in 
 heaven, so also may all those who dwell on 
 earth be saved, O Father, by the knowledge 
 of Thee. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Of our supersubstantial or daily bread. 
 
 Next: "Give us this day our bread which 
 is tmovoiov ^ i.e., "supersubstantial," Avhich 
 another Evangelist calls' " daily. " s The former 
 indicates the quality of its nobility and sub- 
 stance, in virtue of which it is above all 
 
 1 2 Cor. xiii. g. 
 
 2 Micah ii. n. 
 
 3 Exod. xxxii. 31. 32. 
 
 4 S. Matt. v. 16. 
 B S. Matt. xxv. 34. 
 
 6 Tim, ii. 4. 7 Is. xlvi. 10. 
 
 8 Here Cassian is relying entirely on Jerome's revised text of 
 the Latin, which has supersubstantial is in S. Matt. vi. 11, as the 
 rendering of <f7n.0ucn.0s but translates the same word by quotidianum 
 in the parallel passage in S. Luke xi. 3. It is curious that Cassian 
 should have been thus misled, with his knowledge of Greek, as well 
 as his acquaintance with the old Latin version which has quotidia- 
 num in both gospels. Cf Bishop Lightfoot " On a Fresh Revision of 
 the New Testament," p. 219. 
 
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 195 
 
 substances and the loftiness of its grandeur 
 and holiness exceeds all creatures, while the 
 latter intimates the purpose of its use and 
 value. For where it says "daily'' it shows 
 that without.it we cannot live a spiritual life 
 for a single day. Where it says "today" it 
 shows that it must be received daily and that 
 yesterday's supply of it is not enough, but 
 that it must be given to 1 us today also in like 
 manner. And our daily need of it suggests 
 to us that we ought at all times to offer up this 
 prayer, because there is no day on which we 
 have no need to strengthen the heart of our 
 inner man, by eating and receiving it, although 
 the expression used, "today" maybe taken to 
 apply to his present life, i.e., while we are 
 living in this world supply us with this bread. 
 For we know that it will be given to those 
 who deserve it by Thee hereafter, but we ask 
 that Thou wouldest grant it to us today, 
 because unless it has been vouchsafed to a 
 man to receive it in this life he will never be 
 partaker of it in that. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Of the clause : " Forgive us our debts, etc." 
 
 "And forgive us our debts as we also for- 
 give our debtors." O unspeakable mercy of 
 God, which has not only given us a form of 
 prayer and taught us a system of life accept- 
 able to Him, and by the requirements of the 
 form given, in which He charged us always 
 to pray, has torn up the roots of both anger 
 and sorrow, but also gives to those who pray 
 an opportunity and reveals to them a way by 
 which they may move a merciful and kindly 
 judgment of God to be pronounced over them 
 and which somehow gives us a power by which 
 we can moderate the sentence of our ludge, 
 drawing Him to forgive our offences by the 
 example of our forgiveness : when we say to 
 Him: "Forgive us as we also forgive." And 
 so without anxiety and in confidence from 
 this prayer a man may ask for pardon of his 
 own offences, if he has been forgiving towards 
 his own debtors, and not towards those of his 
 Lord. For some of us, which is very bad, 
 are inclined to show ourselves calm and most 
 merciful in regard to those things which are 
 done to God's detriment, however great the 
 crimes may be, but to be found most hard and 
 inexorable exactors of debts to ourselves even 
 in the case of the most trifling wrongs. Who- 
 ever then does not from his heart forgive his 
 brother who has offended him, by this prayer 
 calls down upon himself not forgiveness but 
 
 condemnation, and by his own profession asks 
 that he himself may be judged more severely, 
 saying : Forgive me as I also have forgiven. 
 And if he is repaid according to his own re- 
 quest, what else will follow but that he will 
 be punished after his own example with im- 
 placable wrath and a sentence that cannot be 
 remitted? And so if we want to be judged 
 mercifully, we ought also to be merciful 
 towards those who have sinned against us. 
 For only so much will be remitted to us, as 
 we have remitted to those who have injured 
 us however spitefully. And some dreading 
 this, when this prayer is chanted by all the 
 people in church, silently omit this clause, 
 for fear lest they may seem by their own utter- 
 ance to bind themselves rather than to ex- 
 cuse themselves, as they do not understand 
 that it is in vain that they try to offer these 
 quibbles to the ludge of all men, who has 
 willed to show us beforehand how He will 
 judge His suppliants. For as He does not 
 wish to be found harsh and inexorable towards 
 them, He has marked out the manner of His 
 judgment, that just as we desire to be judged 
 by Him, so we should also judge our brethren, 
 if they have wronged us in anything, for "he 
 shall have judgment without mercy who hath 
 shown no mercy." 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Of the clause : " Lead us not into temptation." 
 
 Next there follows: "And lead us not into 
 temptation," on which there arises no unim- 
 portant question, for if we pray that we may not 
 be suffered to be tempted, how then will our 
 power of endurance be proved, according to 
 this text: "Every one who is not tempted is 
 not proved ; " 2 and again : " Blessed is the man 
 that endureth temptation ? " 3 The clause then, 
 I "Lead us not into temptation," does not 
 ! mean this; viz., do not permit us ever to be 
 ; tempted, but do not permit us when we fall 
 into temptation to be overcome. For Job 
 j was tempted, but was not led into temptation. 
 i For he did not ascribe folly to God nor blas- 
 phemy, nor with impious mouth did he yield 
 '• to that wish of the tempter toward which he 
 ! was drawn. Abraham was tempted, Joseph 
 I was tempted, but neither of them was led into 
 ; temptation for neither of them yielded his 
 ! consent to the tempter. Next there follows : 
 "But deliver us from evil," i.e., do not suffer 
 ; us to be tempted by the devil above that we 
 
 1 S. James ii. 13. 2 Ecclus. xxxiv. 11. 
 
 S. James i. 12. 
 
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 are able, but "make with the temptation a way 
 also of escape that we may be able to bear 
 it." 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 How we ought not to ask for other things, except only those 
 which are contained in the limits of the Lord's Prayer. 
 
 You see then what is the method and form 
 of prayer proposed to us by the Judge Him- 
 self, who is to be prayed to by it, a form in 
 which there is contained no petition for riches, 
 no thought of honours, no request for power 
 and might, no mention of bodily health and 
 of temporal life. For He who is the Author 
 of Eternity would have men ask of Him no- 
 thing uncertain, nothing paltry, and nothing 
 temporal. And so a man will offer the great- 1 
 est insult to His Majesty and Bounty, if he 
 leaves on one side these eternal petitions and 
 chooses rather to ask of Him something tran- 
 sitory and uncertain; and will also incur the 
 indignation rather than the propitiation of the 
 Judge by the pettiness of his prayer. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Of the character of the sublimer prayer. 
 
 This prayer then though it seems to con- 
 tain all the fulness of perfection, as being 
 what was originated and appointed by the 
 Lord's own authority, yet lifts those to whom 
 it belongs to that still higher condition of 
 which we spoke above, and carries them on by 
 a loftier stage to that ardent prayer which is 
 known and tried by but very few, and which 
 to speak more truly is ineffable; which tran- 
 scends all human thoughts, and is distin- 
 guished, I will not say by any sound of the 
 voice, but by no movement of the tongue, or 
 utterance of words, but which the mind en- 
 lightened by the infusion of that heavenly 
 light describes in no human and confined 
 language, but pours forth richly as from a 
 copious fountain in an accumulation of 
 thoughts, and ineffably utters to God, express- 
 ing in the shortest possible space of time such 
 great things that the mind when it returns to 
 its usual condition cannot easily utter or 
 relate. And this condition our Lord also 
 similarly prefigured by the form of those sup- 
 plications which, when he retired alone in 
 the mountain He is said to have poured forth 
 in silence, and when being in an agony of 
 
 1 i Cor. x. 13. 
 
 prayer He shed forth even drops of blood, 
 as an example of a purpose which it is hard 
 to imitate. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Of the different causes of conviction. 
 
 But who is able, with whatever experience 
 he may be endowed, to give a sufficient ac- 
 count of the varieties and reasons and grounds 
 of conviction, by which the mind is inflamed 
 and set on fire and incited to pure and most 
 fervent prayers? And of these we will now 
 by way of specimen set forth a few, as far as 
 we can by God's enlightenment recollect them. 
 For sometimes a verse of any one of the 
 Psalms gives us an occasion of ardent prayer 
 while Ave are singing. Sometimes the har- 
 monious modulation of a brother's voice stirs 
 up the minds of dullards to intense supplica- 
 tion. We know also that the enunciation and 
 the reverence of the chanter adds greatly to 
 the fervour of those who stand by. Moreover 
 the exhortation of a perfect man, and a spir- 
 itual conference has often raised the affections 
 of those present to ,the richest prayer. We 
 know too that by the death of a brother or 
 some one dear to us, we are no less carried 
 away to full conviction. The recollection also 
 of our coldness and carelessness has some- 
 times aroused in us a healthful fervour of 
 spirit. And in this way no one can doubt 
 that numberless opportunities are not want- 
 ing, by which through God's grace the cold- 
 ness and sleepiness of our minds can be 
 shaken off. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Of the different sorts of conviction. 
 
 But how and in what way those very convic- 
 tions are produced from the inmost recesses 
 of the soul it is no less difficult to trace out. 
 For often through some inexpressible delight 
 and keenness of spirit the fruit of a most salu- 
 tary conviction arises so that it actually breaks 
 forth into shouts owing to the greatness of 
 its incontrollable joy; and the delight of the 
 heart and greatness of exultation makes itself 
 heard even in the cell of a neighbour. But 
 sometimes the mind hides itself in complete 
 silence within the secrets of a profound quiet, 
 so that the amazement of a sudden illumina- 
 tion chokes all sounds of words and the over- 
 awed spirit either keeps all its feelings to it- 
 self or loses 2 them and pours forth its desires 
 
 2 Petschenig's text reads "amittat. 
 
 1. emittat. 
 
THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOTT ISAAC. 
 
 197 
 
 to God with groanings that cannot be uttered. 
 But sometimes it is filled with such over- 
 whelming conviction and grief that it cannot 
 express it except by floods of tears. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 A question about the fact that a plentiful supply of tears is 
 not in our own power. 
 
 Germanus : My own poor self indeed is 
 not altogether ignorant of this feeling of con- 
 viction. For often when tears arise at the 
 recollection of my faults, I have been by the 
 Lord's visitation so refreshed by this ineffable 
 joy which you describe that the greatness of 
 the joy has assured me that I ought not to 
 despair of their forgiveness. Than which state 
 of mind I think there is nothing more sub- 
 lime if only it could be recalled at our own 
 will. For sometimes when I am desirous to 
 stir myself up with all my power to the same 
 conviction and tears, and place before my eyes 
 all my faults and sins, I am unable to bring 
 back that copiousness of tears, and so my eyes 
 are dry and hard like some hardest flint, so 
 that not a single tear trickles from them. And 
 so in proportion as I congratulate myself on 
 that copiousness of tears, just so do I mourn 
 that I cannot bring it back again whenever I 
 wish. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 The answer on the varieties of conviction which spring from 
 tears. 
 
 Isaac : Not every kind of shedding of tears 
 is produced by one feeling or one virtue. For 
 in one way does that weeping originate which 
 is caused by the pricks of our sins smiting our 
 heart, of which we read: "I have laboured 
 in my groanings, every night I will wash my 
 bed ; I will water my couch with my tears." a 
 And again : " Let tears run down like a torrent 
 day and night : give thyself no rest, and let 
 not the apple of thine eye cease." 2 In another, 
 that which arises from the contemplation of 
 eternal good things and the desire of that 
 future glory, owing to which even richer well- 
 springs of tears burst forth from uncontrollable 
 delights and boundless exultation, while our 
 soul is athirst for the mighty Living God, say- 
 ing, "When shall I come and appear before the 
 presence of God? My tears have been my 
 meat day and night," 8 declaring with daily 
 crying and lamentation: "Woe is me that 
 my sojourning is prolonged ; " and : " Too long 
 
 1 Ps. vi. 7 . 
 
 Lam. ii. iS". 3 Ps. xii. (xliii.) 3, 4. 
 
 hath my soul been a sojourner." 4 In another 
 way do the tears flow forth, which without any 
 conscience of deadly sin, yet still proceed 
 from the fear of hell and the recollection of 
 that terrible judgment, with the terror of 
 which the prophet was smitten and prayed to 
 God, saying : " Enter not into judgment with 
 Thy servant, for in Thy sight shall no man 
 living be justified." 5 There is too another 
 kind of tears, which are caused not by know- 
 ledge of one's self but by the hardness and 
 sins of others ; whereby Samuel is described 
 as having wept for Saul, and both the Lord in 
 the gospel and Jeremiah in former days for 
 the city of Jerusalem, the latter thus saying : 
 " Oh, that my head were water and mine eyes a 
 fountain of tears ! And I will weep day and 
 night for the slain of the daughter of my peo- 
 ple." 6 Or also such as were those tears of 
 which we hear in the hundred and first Psalm : 
 " For I have eaten ashes for my bread, and 
 mingled my cup with weeping." 7 And these 
 were certainly not caused by the same feel- 
 ing as those which arise in the sixth Psalm 
 from the person of the penitent, but were due 
 to the anxieties of this life and its distresses 
 and losses, by which the righteous who are 
 living in this world are oppressed. And this 
 is clearly shown not only by the words of the 
 Psalm itself, but also by its title, which runs 
 as follows in the character of that poor person 
 of whom it is said in the gospel that "blessed 
 are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom 
 of heaven : " s "A prayer of the poor when he 
 was in distress and poured forth his prayer to 
 God." 9 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 How tears ought not to be squeezed out, when they do not 
 flow spontaneously. 
 
 From these tears those are vastly different 
 which are squeezed out from dry eyes while 
 the heart is hard : and although we cannot be- 
 lieve that these are altogether fruitless (for the 
 attempt to shed them is made with a good in- 
 tention, especially by those who have not yet 
 been able to attain to perfect knowledge or to 
 be thoroughly cleansed from the stains of past 
 or present sins), yet certainly the flow of tears 
 ought not to be thus forced out by those who 
 have already advanced to the love of virtue, 
 nor should the weeping of the outward man be 
 with great labour attempted, as even if it is 
 produced it will never attain the rich copious- 
 ness of spontaneous tears. For it will rather 
 
 4 Ps. cix. (cxix.) 5, 6. Jer. ix. 1. 8 S. Matt. v. 3. 
 
 6 Ps. cxlii. (cxliii.) 2. 7 Ps. ci. (cii.) 10. 9 Ps. ci. (cii.) 1. 
 
393 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 cast down the soul of the suppliant by his en- 
 deavours, and humiliate him, and plunge him 
 in human affairs and draw him away from the 
 celestial heights, wherein the awed mind of 
 one who prays should be steadfastly fixed, and 
 will force it to relax its hold on its prayers and 
 grow sick from barren and forced tears. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 The opinion of Abbot Antony on the condition of prayer. 
 
 And that you may see the character of true 
 prayer I will give you not my own opinion but 
 that of the blessed Antony : whom we have 
 known sometimes to have been so persistent 
 in prayer that often as he was praying in a 
 transport of mind, when the sunrise began to 
 appear, we have heard him in the fervour of 
 his spirit declaiming : Why do you hinder 
 me, O sun, who art arising for this very pur- 
 pose; viz., to withdraw me from the bright- 
 ness of this true light ? And his also is this 
 heavenly and more than human utterance on 
 the end of prayer : That is not. said he, a 
 perfect prayer, wherein a monk understands 
 himself and the words which he prays. And 
 if we too, as far as our slender ability allows, 
 may venture to add anything to this splendid 
 utterance, we will bring forward the marks of 
 prayer which are heard from the Lord, as far 
 as we have tried them. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 Of the proof of prayer being heard. 
 
 Whex, while we are praying, no hesitation 
 intervenes and breaks down the confidence of 
 our petition by a sort of despair, but we feel that 
 by pouring forth our prayer we have obtained 
 what we are asking for, we have no doubt that 
 our prayers have effectually reached God. For 
 so far will one be heard and obtain an answer, 
 as he believes that he is regarded by God, and 
 that God can grant it. For this saying of our 
 Lord cannot be retracted : " Whatsoever ye ask 
 when ye pray, believe that you shall receive, and 
 they shall come to you." x 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 An objection that the confidence of being thus heard as 
 described belongs only to saints. 
 
 Germanus : We certainly believe that this 
 confidence of being heard flows from purity of 
 
 1 S. Mark xi. 24. 
 
 conscience, but for us, whose heart is still smit- 
 ten by the pricks of sins, how can we have it, 
 as we have no merits to plead for us, whereby 
 we might confidently presume that our prayers 
 would be heard ? 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Answer on the different reasons for prayer being heard. 
 
 Isaac : That there are different reasons for 
 prayer being heard in accordance with the varied 
 and changing condition of souls the words of 
 the gospels and of the prophets teach us. For 
 you have the fruits of an answer pointed out 
 by our Lord's words in the case of the agree- 
 ment of two persons ; as it is said : " If two of 
 you shall agree upon earth touching anything 
 for which they shall ask, it shall be done for 
 them of my Father which is in heaven." 2 You 
 have another in the fulness of faith, which is 
 compared to a grain of mustard-seed. "For," 
 He says, " if you have faith as a grain of mustard 
 seed, ye shall say unto this mountain : Be thou 
 removed, and it shall be removed ; and nothing 
 shall be impossible to you." 3 You have it in 
 continuance in prayer, which the Lord's words 
 call, by reason of unwearied perseverance in 
 petitioning, importunity: "For, verily, I say 
 unto you that if not because of his friendship, 
 yet because of his importunity he will rise and 
 give him as much as he needs." 4 You have 
 it in the fruits of almsgiving : " Shut up alms 
 in the heart of the poor and it shall pray for 
 thee in the time of tribulation." 6 You have it 
 in the purifying of life and in works of mercy, 
 as it is said : " Loose the bands of wickedness, 
 undo the bundles that oppress ; " and after a 
 few words in which the barrenness of an un- 
 fruitful fast is rebuked, " then," he says, " thou 
 shalt call and the Lord shall hear thee ; thou 
 shalt cry, and He shall say, Here am I." 6 
 Sometimes also excess of trouble causes it to 
 be heard, as it is said : " When I was in trou- 
 ble I called unto the Lord, and He heard me ; " 7 
 and again : " Afflict not the stranger for if he 
 crieth unto Me, I will hear him, for I am mer- 
 ciful." 8 You see then in how many ways the 
 gift of an answer may be obtained, so that no 
 one need be crushed by the despair of his con- 
 science for securing those things which are salu- 
 tary and eternal. For if in contemplating our 
 wretchedness I admit that we are utterly desti- 
 tute of all those virtues which we mentioned 
 above, and that we have neither that laudable 
 agreement of two persons, nor that faith which 
 
 2 S. Matt, xviii. 19. 
 
 3 S. Matt. xvii. 19. 
 * S. Luke xi. S. 
 
 5 Ecclus. xxix. 
 Is. lviii. 6, 9. 
 
 7 Ps. cxix. (cxx.) 1. 
 
 8 Exod. xxii. 2i, 27. 
 
THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC. 
 
 399 
 
 is compared to a grain of mustard seed, nor 
 those works of piety which the prophet de- 
 scribes, surely we cannot be without that im- 
 portunity which He supplies to all who desire 
 it, owing to which alone the Lord promises 
 that He will give whatever He has been prayed 
 to give. And therefore we ought without un- 
 believing hesitation to persevere, and not to 
 have the least doubt that by continuing in 
 them we shall obtain ail those things which 
 we have asked according to the mind of God. 
 For the Lord, in His desire to grant what is 
 heavenly and eternal, urges us to constrain 
 Him as it were by our importunity, as He not 
 only does not despise or reject the importunate, 
 but actually welcomes and praises them, and 
 most graciously promises to grant whatever 
 they have perseveringly hoped for ; saying, 
 " Ask and ye shall receive : seek and ye shall 
 find : knock and it shall be opened unto you. 
 For every one that asketh receiveth, and he 
 that seeketh findeth, and to him that knocketh 
 it shall be opened ; " * and again : " All things 
 whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer believing ye 
 shall receive, and nothing shall be impossible 
 to you." ' 2 And therefore even if all the grounds 
 for being heard which we have mentioned are 
 altogether wanting, at any rate the earnestness 
 of importunity may animate us, as this is 
 placed in the power of any one who wills 
 without the difficulties of any merits or labours. 
 But let not any suppliant doubt that he cer- 
 tainly will not be heard, so long as he doubts 
 whether he is heard. But that this also shall 
 be sought from the Lord unweariedly, we are 
 taught by the example of the blessed Daniel, 
 as, though he was heard from the first day 
 on which he began to pray, he only obtained 
 the result of his petition after one and twenty 
 days. 3 Wherefore we also ought not to grow 
 slack in the earnestness of the prayers we have 
 begun, if we fancy that the answer comes but 
 slowly, for fear lest perhaps the gift of the 
 answer be in God's providence delayed, or 
 the angel, who was to bring the Divine bless- 
 ing to us, may when he comes forth from the 
 Presence of the Almighty be hindered by the 
 resistance of the devil, as it is certain that he 
 cannot transmit and bring to us the desired 
 boon, if he finds that we slack off from the 
 earnestness of the petition made. And this 
 would certainly have happened to the above 
 mentioned prophet unless he had with incom- 
 parable steadfastness prolonged and persevered 
 in his prayers until the twenty-first day. Let 
 us then not be at all cast down by despair 
 from the confidence of this faith of ours, even 
 when we fancy that we are far from having ob- 
 
 1 S. Luke xi. 9, 10. • S. Matt. xxi. 22 ; xvii. 20. 3 Cf. Dan. x. 2 sq. 
 
 tained what we prayed for, and let us not have 
 any doubts about the Lord's promise where 
 He says : " All things, whatsoever ye shall ask 
 in prayer believing, ye shall receive." 4 For it 
 is well for us to consider this saying of the 
 blessed Evangelist John, by which the ambiguity 
 of this question is clearly solved : " This is," he 
 says, " the confidence which we have in Him, 
 that whatsoever we ask according to His will, 
 He heareth us." 5 He bids us then have a full 
 and undoubting confidence of the answer 
 only in those things which are not for our 
 own advantage or for temporal comforts, 
 but are in conformity to the Lord's will. 
 And we are also taught to put this into our 
 prayers by the Lord's Prayer, where we say 
 " Thy will be done," — Thine not ours. For if 
 we also remember these words of the Apostle 
 that " we know not what to pray for as we 
 ought " 6 we shall see that we sometimes ask 
 for things opposed to our salvation and that 
 we are most providentially refused our requests 
 by Him who sees what is good for us with 
 greater right and truth than we can. And it 
 is clear that this also happened to the teacher 
 of the Gentiles when he prayed that the mes- 
 senger of Satan who had been for his good 
 allowed by the Lord's will to buffet him, might 
 be removed, saying : " For which I besought 
 the Lord thrice that he might depart from me. 
 And He said unto me, My grace is sufficient 
 for thee, for strength is made perfect in weak- 
 ness." 7 And this feeling even our Lord ex- 
 pressed when He prayed in the character 8 of 
 man which He had taken, that He might give 
 us a form of prayer as other things also by 
 His example ; saying thus : " Father, if it be 
 possible, let this cup pass from me : neverthe- 
 less not as I will but as Thou wilt," ■' though 
 certainly His will was not discordant with His 
 Father's will, " For He had come to save what 
 was lost and to give His life a ransom for 
 many ; " 10 as He Himself says : " No man taketh 
 my life from Me, but I lay it down of Myself. 
 I have power to lay it down and I have power 
 to take it again." u In which character there is 
 in the thirty-ninth Psalm the following sung by 
 the blessed David, of the Unity of will which 
 He ever maintained with the Father : " To do 
 Thy will : O My God, I am willing." 12 For even 
 if we read of the Father : " For God so loved 
 the world that He gave His only begotten 
 
 4 S. Matt. xxi. 22. c Rom. viii. 26. 
 
 5 1 John v. 16. ' 2 Cor. xii. S, 9. 
 
 8 Ex persona hominis assmnpti. The language is scarcely accu- 
 rate, but it must be remembered that the Conferences were written 
 before the rise of the Nestorian heresy had shown the need of 
 exactness of expression on the subject of the Incarnation. Com- 
 pare the note on "Against Nestorius," Book III. c. iii. 
 
 '■> S. Matt. xxvi. 39. n S. John x. iS. 
 
 10 S. Matt, xviii. 11 ; xx. 28. 12 Ps. xxxix. (xl.) 9. 
 
400 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 Son," 1 we find none the less of the Son : 
 " Who gave Himself for our sins." 2 And as it 
 is said of the One : " Who spared not His own 
 Son, but gave Him for all of us," 3 so it is written 
 of the other : " He was offered because He 
 Himself willed it." 4 And it is shown that 
 the will of the Father and of the Son is in 
 all things one, so that even in the actual 
 mystery of the Lord's resurrection we are 
 taught that there was no discord of operation. 
 For just as the blessed Apostle declares that 
 the Father brought about the resurrection of 
 His body, saying: " And God the Father, who 
 raised Him from the dead," 5 so also the Son 
 testifies that He Himself will raise again the 
 Temple of His body, saying : " Destroy this 
 temple, and in three days I will raise it up 
 again." 6 And therefore we being instructed 
 by all these examples of our Lord which have 
 been enumerated ought to end our supplica- 
 tions also with the same prayer, and always to 
 subjoin this clause to all our petitions : " Never- 
 theless not as I will, but as Thou wilt." 7 But 
 it is clear enough that one who does not 8 pray 
 with attention of mind cannot observe that 
 threefold reverence 9 which is usually practised 
 in the assemblies of the brethren at the close 
 of service. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 Of prayer to be offered within the chamber and with the door 
 shut. 
 
 Before all things however we ought most 
 carefully to observe the Evangelic precept, 
 which tells us to enter into our chamber and 
 shut the door and pray to our Father, which 
 may be fulfilled by us as follows : We pray with- 
 in our chamber, when removing our hearts 
 inwardly from the din of all thoughts and 
 anxieties, we disclose our prayers in secret and 
 in closest intercourse to the Lord. We pray 
 with closed doors when with closed lips and 
 complete silence we pray to the searcher not 
 of words but of hearts. We pray in secret 
 when from the heart and fervent mind we 
 disclose our petitions to God alone, so that 
 no hostile powers are even able to discover 
 the character of our petition. Wherefore we 
 
 1 i John iii. 16. •" Rom. viii. 32. c Gal. i. 1. 
 
 2 Gal. i. 4. * Is. liii. 7. (Lat.) c S. John ii. 19. 
 
 7 S. Matt. xxvi. 39. 
 
 8 " Non " though wanting inmost MSS. must be read in the 
 text. 
 
 Reading " curvationis " with Petschenig : the text of Gazxus has 
 " orationis." 
 
 should pray in complete silence, not only to 
 avoid distracting the brethren standing near 
 by our whispers or louder utterances, and dis- 
 turbing the thoughts of those who are praying, 
 but also that the purport of our petition may 
 be concealed from our enemies who are es- 
 pecially on the watch against us while we are 
 praying. For so we shall fulfil this injunc- 
 tion : " Keep the doors of thy mouth from her 
 who sleepeth in thy bosom." 10 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 Of the value of short and silent prayer. 
 
 Wherefore we ought to pray often but 
 briefly, lest if we are long about it our crafty foe 
 may succeed in implanting something in our 
 heart. For that is the true sacrifice, as " the sac- 
 rifice of God is a broken spirit." This is the 
 salutary offering, these are pure drink offerings, 
 that is the " sacrifice of righteousness," the 
 " sacrifice of praise," these are true and fat 
 victims, " holocausts full of marrow," which are 
 offered by contrite and humble hearts, and 
 which those who practise this control and 
 fervour of spirit, of which we have spoken, 
 with effectual power can sing : " Let my prayer 
 be set forth in Thy sight as the incense : let 
 the lifting up of my hands be an evening sac- 
 rifice." n But the approach of the right hour 
 and of night warns us that we ought with fit- 
 ting devotion to do this very thing, of which, 
 as our slender ability allowed, we seem to 
 have propounded a great deal, and to have 
 prolonged our conference considerably, though 
 we believe that we have discoursed very little 
 when the magnificence and difficulty of the 
 subject are taken into account. 
 
 With these words of the holy Isaac we were 
 dazzled rather than satisfied, and after evening 
 service had been held, rested our limbs for a 
 short time, and intending at the first dawn 
 again to return under promise of a fuller 
 discussion departed, rejoicing over the acqui- 
 sition of these precepts as well as over the 
 assurance of his promises. Since we felt that 
 though the excellence of prayer had been 
 shown to us, still we had not yet understood 
 from his discourse its nature, and the power 
 by which continuance in it might be gained 
 and kept. 
 
 10 Micah vii. 5. 
 
 11 Ps. 1. (Ii.) 19, 21 
 
 xlix. (1.) 23; lxv. (lxvi.) 15; cxl. (cxli.) 2. 
 
THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC. 
 
 401 
 
 X. 
 
 THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC. 
 
 ON PRAYER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 Among the sublime customs of the anchor- 
 ites which by God's help have been set forth 
 although in plain and unadorned style, the 
 course of our narration compels us to insert 
 and find a place for something, which may j 
 seem so to speak to cause a blemish on a fair 
 body : although I have no doubt that by it no 
 small instruction on the image of, Almighty 
 God of which we read in Genesis will be con- 
 ferred on some of the simpler sort, especially 
 when the grounds are considered of a doctrine 
 so important that men cannot be ignorant of 
 it without terrible blasphemy and serious harm 
 to the Catholic faith. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Of the custom which is kept up in the Province of Egypt for 
 signifying the time of Easter. 
 
 In the country of Egypt this custom is by 
 ancient tradition observed that — when Epiph- 
 any is past, which the priests of that province 
 regard as the time, both of our Lord's baptism 
 and also of His birth in the flesh, and so cele- 
 brate the commemoration of either mystery 
 not separately as in the Western provinces but 
 on the single festival of this day, 1 — letters are 
 
 1 The observance of Epiphany can be traced back in the Chris- 
 tian Church to the second century, and, as Cassian tells us here, in 
 the East (in which its observance apparently originated) it was in 
 the first instance a double festival, commemorating both the Nativity 
 and the Baptism of our Lord. From the East its observance passed 
 over to the West, where however the Nativity was already observed 
 as a separate festival, and hence the special reference of Epiphany 
 was somewhat altered, and the manifestation to the Magi was coupled 
 with that at the Baptism : hence the plural Eftiphaniorum dies. 
 Meanwhile, as the West adopted the observance of this festival from 
 the East, so the East followed the West in observing a separate feast 
 of the Nativity. Cassian's words show us that when he wrote the 
 two festivals were both observed separately in the West, though 
 apparently not yet (to the best of his belief) in the East, but the 
 language of a homily by S. Chrysostom (Vol. ii. p. 354 Ed. Mont- 
 faucon) delivered in a.d. 386 shows that the separation of the two 
 festivals had already begun at Antioch, and all the evidence goes to 
 show that "the Western plan was being gradually adopted in the 
 period which we may roughly define as the last quarter of the 4th 
 and the first quarter of the 5th century." Dictionary of Christian 
 Antiquities, Vol. i. p. 361. See further Origines du Culte Chretien, 
 par L'Abbe Duchesne, p. 247 sq. 
 
 sent from the Bishop of Alexandria through 
 all the Churches of Egypt, by which the begin- 
 ning of Lent, and the day of Easter are pointed 
 out not only in all the cities but also in all the 
 monasteries. 2 In accordance then with this 
 custom, a very few days after the previous 
 conference had been held with Abbot Isaac, 
 there arrived the festal letters of Theophilus 3 
 the Bishop of the aforesaid city, in which 
 together with the announcement of Easter 
 he considered as well the foolish heresy of. 
 the Anthropomorphites 4 at great length, and 
 abundantly refuted it. And this was received 
 by almost all the body of monks residing in 
 the whole province of Egypt with such bitter- 
 ness owing to their simplicity and error, that 
 the greater part of the Elders decreed that on 
 the contrary the aforesaid Bishop ought to be 
 abhorred by the whole body of the brethren 
 as tainted with heresy of the worst kind, 
 because he seemed to impugn the teaching of 
 holy Scripture by the denial that Almighty 
 God was formed in the fashion of a human 
 
 2 The " Festal letters" (eopTa<TTLKal ciricrToAai, Euseb. VII. xx., 
 xxi.) were delivered by the Bishop of Alexandria as Homilies, and 
 then put into the form of an Epistle and sent round to all the churches 
 of Egypt ; and, according to some late writers, to the Bishops of all 
 the principal sees, in accordance with a decision of the Council of 
 Nicsea, in order to inform them of the right day on which Easter 
 should be celebrated. Cassian here speaks of them as sent imme- 
 diately after Epiphany, and this was certainly the time at which the 
 announcement of the date of Easter was made in the West shortly 
 after his day (so the Council of Orleans, Canon i., a.d. 541) ; that of 
 Braga a.d. 572, Canon ix. ; and that of Auxerre a.d. 572, Canon ii.), 
 but there is ample evidence in the Festal letters both ot S. Athana- 
 sius and of S. Cyril that at Alexandria the homilies were preached 
 on the previous Easter, and it is difficult to resist the inference that 
 Cassian's memory is here at fault as to the exact time at which the 
 incident related really occurred, and that he is transferring to Egypt 
 the custom with which he was familiar in the West, assigning 
 to the festival of Epiphany what really must have taken place at 
 Easter. 
 
 3 Theophilus succeeded Timothy as Bishop of Alexandria in the 
 summer of 3S5. The festal letters of which Cassian here speaks 
 were issued by him in the year 399. 
 
 4 The Anthropomorphite heresy, into which the monks of Egypt 
 had fallen, "supposed that God possesses eyes, a face, and hands 
 and other members of a bodily organization." It arose from tak- 
 ing too literally those passages of the Old Testament in which God 
 is spoken of in human terms, out of condescension to man's limited 
 powers of grasping the Divine nature and appears historically to 
 have been a recoil from the allegorism of Origen and others of the 
 Alexandrian school. The Festal letter of Theophilus in which he 
 condemned these views, and maintained the incorporeal nature of 
 God is no longer extant, but is alluded to also by Sozomen, H. E. 
 VIII. xi., where an account is given of the Origenistic controversy, 
 of which it was the occasion, and out of which Theophilus came so 
 badly. On the heresy see also Epiphanius, Hir. lxx.; Augustine. 
 Haer. 1. and lxxvi.; and Theodoret, H. E. IV. x. 
 
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 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 figure, though Scripture teaches with perfect 
 clearness that Adam was created in His image. 
 Lastly this letter was rejected also by those 
 who were living in the desert of Scete and who 
 excelled all who were in the monasteries of 
 Egypt, in perfection and in knowledge, so that 
 except Abbot Paphnutius the presbyter of our 
 congregation, not one of the other presbyters, 
 who presided over the other three churches in 
 the same desert, would suffer it to be even 
 read or repeated at all in their meetings. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Of Abbot Sarapion and the heresy of the Anthropomorphites 
 into which he fell in the error of simplicity. 
 
 Among those then who were caught by this 
 mistaken notion was one named Sarapion, a 
 man of long-standing strictness of life, and 
 one who was altogether perfect in actual dis- 
 cipline, whose ignorance with regard to the 
 view of the doctrine first mentioned was so far 
 a stumbling block to all who held the true 
 faith, as he himself outstripped almost all the 
 monks both in the merits of his life and in 
 the length of time (he had been there). And 
 when this man could not be brought back* to 
 the way of the right faith by many exhorta- 
 tions of the holy presbyter Paphnutius, because 
 this view seemed to him a novelty, and one 
 that was not ever known to or handed down 
 by his predecessors, it chanced that a certain 
 deacon, a man of very great learning, named 
 Photinus, arrived from the region of Cappa- 
 docia with the desire of visiting the brethren 
 living in the same desert : whom the blessed 
 Paphnutius received with the warmest wel- 
 come, and in order to confirm the faith which 
 had been stated in the letters of the aforesaid 
 Bishop, placed him in the midst and asked 
 him before all the brethren how the Catholic 
 Churches throughout the East interpreted the 
 passage in Genesis where it says " Let vis make 
 man after our image and likeness." 1 And 
 when he explained that the image and like- 
 ness of God was taken by all the leaders of 
 the churches not according to the base sound 
 of the letters, but spiritually, and supported this 
 very fully and by many passages of Scripture, 
 and showed that nothing of this sort could 
 happen to that infinite and incomprehensible 
 and invisible glory, so that it could be com- 
 prised in a human form and likeness, since its 
 nature is incorporeal and uncompounded and 
 
 1 Gen. i. 26. 
 
 simple, and what can neither be apprehended 
 by the eyes nor conceived by the mind, at 
 length the old man was shaken by the numer- 
 ous and very weighty assertions of this most 
 learned man, and was drawn to the faith of 
 the Catholic tradition. And when both Abbot 
 Paphnutius and all of us were filled with intense 
 delight at his adhesion, for this reason ; viz., 
 that the Lord had not permitted a man of such 
 age and crowned with such virtues, and one 
 who erred only from ignorance and rustic sim- 
 plicity, to wander from the path of the right 
 faith up to the very last, and when we arose to 
 give thanks, and were all together offering up 
 our prayers to the Lord, the old man was so 
 bewildered in mind during his prayer because 
 he felt that the Anthropomorphic image of the 
 Godhead which he used to set before himself 
 in prayer, was banished from his heart, that 
 on a sudden he burst into a flood of bitter 
 tears and continual sobs, and cast himself 
 down on the ground and exclaimed with strong 
 groanings : " Alas ! wretched man that I am ! 
 they have taken away my God from me, and I 
 have now none to lay hold of ; and whom to 
 worship and address I know not." By which 
 scene we were terribly disturbed, and more- 
 over with the effect of the former Conference 
 still remaining in our hearts, we returned to 
 Abbot Isaac, whom when we saw close at 
 hand, we addressed with these words. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Of our return to Abbot Isaac and question concerning the 
 error into which the aforesaid old man had fallen. 
 
 Although even besides the fresh matter 
 which has lately arisen, our delight in the 
 former conference which was held on the char- 
 acter of prayer would summon us to postpone 
 everything else and return to your holiness, yet 
 this grievous error of Abbot Sarapion, con- 
 ceived, as we fancy, by the craft of most vile 
 demons, adds somewhat to this desire of ours. 
 For it is no small despair by which we are cast 
 down when we consider that through the fault 
 of this ignorance he has not only utterly lost all 
 those labours which he has performed in so 
 praiseworthy a manner for fifty years in this 
 desert, but has also incurred the risk of eternal 
 death. And so we want first to know why and 
 wherefore so grievous an error has crept into 
 him. And next we should like to be taught how 
 we can arrive at that condition in prayer, of 
 which you discoursed some time back not only 
 fully but splendidly. For that admirable Con- 
 
THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC. 
 
 403 
 
 ference has had this effect upon us, that it has 
 only dazzled our minds and has not shown us 
 how to perform or secure it. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The answer or the heresy described above. 
 
 Isaac : We need not be surprised that a 
 really simple man who had never received any 
 instruction on the substance and nature of the 
 Godhead could still be entangled and deceived 
 by an error of simplicity and the habit of a long- 
 standing mistake, and (to speak more truly) 
 continue in the original error which is brought 
 about, not as you suppose by a new illusion of 
 the demons, but by the ignorance of the ancient 
 heathen world, while in accordance with the 
 custom of that erroneous notion, by which they 
 used to worship devils formed in the figure of 
 men, they even now think that the incompre- 
 hensible and ineffable glory of the true Deity 
 should be worshipped under the limitations of 
 some figure, as they believe that they can grasp 
 and hold nothing if they have not some image 
 set before them, which they can continually 
 address while they are at their devotions, and 
 which they can carry about in their mind and 
 have always fixed before their eyes. And 
 against this mistake of theirs this text may be 
 used : " And they changed the glory of the 
 incorruptible God into the likeness of the 
 image of corruptible man." 1 Jeremiah also 
 says : " My people have changed their glory 
 for an idol." 2 Which error although by this 
 its origin, of which we have spoken, it is en- 
 grained in the notions of some, yet none the 
 less is it contracted in the hearts also of those 
 who have never been stained with the supersti- 
 tion of the heathen world, under the colour of 
 this passage where it is said " Let us make man 
 after our image and our likeness," 3 ignorance 
 and simplicity being its authors, so that actu- 
 ally there has arisen owing to this hateful 
 interpretation a heresy called that of the An- 
 thropomorphites, which maintains with obsti- 
 nate perverseness that the infinite and simple 
 substance of the Godhead is fashioned in our 
 lineaments and human configuration. Which 
 however any one who has been taught the 
 Catholic doctrine will abhor as heathenish blas- 
 phemy, and so will arrive at that perfectly pure 
 condition in prayer which will not only not con- 
 nect with its prayers any figure of the Godhead 
 or bodily lineaments (which it is a sin even to 
 speak of), but will not even allow in itself even 
 the memory of a name, or the appearance of 
 an action, or an outline of any character. 
 
 1 Rom. i. 23. 
 
 2 Jer. ii. 11. 
 
 3 Gen. i. 26. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Of the reasons why Jesus Christ appears to each one of us 
 either in His humility or in His glorified condition. 
 
 For according to the measure of its purity, 
 as I said in the former Conference, each mind 
 is both raised and moulded in its prayer, if 
 it forsakes the consideration of earthly and 
 material things so far as the condition of its 
 purity may carry it forward, and enable it with 
 the inner eyes of the soul to see Jesus either 
 still in His humility and in the flesh, or glori- 
 fied and coming in the glory of His Majesty : 
 for those cannot see Jesus coming in His 
 Kingdom who are still kept back in a sort of 
 state of Jewish weakness, and cannot say with 
 the Apostle : " And if we have known Christ 
 after the flesh, yet now we know Him so no 
 more ; " 4 but only those can look with purest 
 eyes on His Godhead, who rise with Him from 
 low and earthly works and thoughts and go 
 apart in the lofty mountain of solitude which 
 is free from the disturbance of all earthly 
 thoughts and troubles, and secure from the 
 interference of all sins, and being exalted by 
 pure faith and the heights of virtue reveals 
 the glory of His Face and the image of His 
 splendour to those who are able to look on 
 Him with pure eyes of the soul. But Jesus is 
 seen as well by those who live in towns and 
 villages and hamlets, i.e., who are occupied in 
 practical affairs and works, but not with the 
 same brightness with which He appeared to 
 those who can go up with Him into the afore- 
 said mount of virtues, i.e., Peter, James, and 
 John. For so in solitude He appeared to Moses 
 and spoke with Elias. And as our Lord wished 
 to establish this and to leave us examples 
 of perfect purity, although He Himself, the 
 very fount of inviolable sanctity, had no need 
 of external help and the assistance of soli- 
 tude in order to secure it (for the fulness of 
 purity could not be soiled by any stain from 
 crowds, nor could He be contaminated by in- 
 tercourse with men, who cleanses and sanctifies 
 all things that are polluted) yet still He retired 
 into the mountain alone to pray, thus teach- 
 ing us by the example of His retirement that 
 if we too wish to approach God with a pure 
 and spotless affection of heart, we should also 
 retire from all the disturbance and confusion 
 of crowds, so that while still living in the body we 
 may manage in some degree to adapt ourselves 
 to some likeness of that bliss which is promised 
 hereafter to the saints, and that " God may 
 be" to us "all in all." 5 
 
 * 2 Cor. v. 16. 
 
 5 1 Cor. xv. 28 
 
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 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 What constitutes our end and perfect bliss. 
 
 For then will be perfectly fulfilled in our 
 case that prayer of our Saviour in which He 
 prayed for His disciples to the Father saying : 
 " that the love wherewith Thou lovedst Me 
 may be in them and they in us ; " and again : 
 " that they all may be one as Thou, Father, in 
 Me and I in Thee, that they also may be one 
 in us," 1 when that perfect love of God, where- 
 with " He first loved us" 2 has passed into the 
 feelings of our heart as well, by the fulfilment 
 of this prayer of the Lord which we believe 
 cannot possibly be ineffectual. And this will 
 come to pass when God shall be all our love, 
 and every desire and wish and effort, every 
 thought of ours, and all our life and words and 
 breath, and that unity which already exists 
 between the Father and the Son, and the Son 
 and the Father, has been shed abroad in our 
 hearts and minds, so that as He loves us 
 with a pure and unfeigned and indissoluble 
 love, so we also may be joined to Him by a 
 lasting and inseparable affection, since we are 
 so united to Him that whatever we breathe or 
 think, or speak is God, since, as I say, we 
 attain to that end of which we spoke before, 
 which the same Lord in His prayer hopes may 
 be fulfilled in us : " that they all may be one as 
 we are one, I in them and Thou in Me, that 
 they also may be made perfect in one ; " and 
 again : " Father, those whom Thou hast given 
 Me, I will that where I am, they may also be 
 with Me." 3 This then ought to be the destina- 
 tion of the solitary, this should be all his aim 
 that it may be vouchsafed to him to possess 
 even in the body an image of future bliss, and 
 that he may begin in this world to have a 
 foretaste of a sort of earnest of that celestial 
 life and glory. This, I say, is the end of all 
 perfection, that the mind purged from all car- 
 nal desires may daily be lifted towards spir- 
 itual things, until the whole life and all the 
 thoughts of the heart become one continuous 
 prayer. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A question on the training in perfection by which we can 
 arrive at perpetual recollection of God. 
 
 Germanus : The extent of our bewilder- 
 ment at our wondering awe at the former 
 Conference, because of which we came back 
 again, increases still more. For in proportion 
 
 1 S. John xvii. 26, 21. - 1 John iv. 16. 3 S. John xvii. 22-24. 
 
 as by the incitements of this teaching we are 
 fired with the desire of perfect bliss, so do we 
 fall back into greater despair, as we know not 
 how to seek or obtain training for such lofty 
 heights. Wherefore we entreat that you will 
 patiently allow us (for it must perhaps be set 
 forth and unfolded with a good deal of talk) to 
 explain what while sitting in the cell we had 
 begun to revolve in a lengthy meditation, 
 although we know that your holiness is not at 
 all troubled by the infirmities of the weak, 
 which even for this reason should be openly 
 set forth, that what is out of place in them 
 may receive correction. Our notion then is 
 that the perfection of any art or system of 
 training must begin with some simple rudi- 
 ments, and grow accustomed first to somewhat 
 easy and tender beginnings, so that being 
 nourished and trained little by little by a sort 
 of reasonable milk, it may grow up and so by 
 degrees and step by step mount up from the 
 lowest depths to the heights : and when by 
 these means it has entered on the plainer prin- 
 ciples and so to speak passed the gates of the 
 entrance of the profession, it will consequently 
 arrive without difficulty at the inmost shrine 
 and lofty heights of perfection. For how 
 could any boy manage to pronounce the sim- 
 plest union of syllables unless he had first 
 carefully learnt the letters of the alphabet ? Or 
 how can any one learn to read quickly, who is 
 still unfit to connect together short and simple 
 sentences ? But by what means will one who 
 is ill instructed in the science of grammar 
 attain eloquence in rhetoric or the knowledge 
 of philosophy ? Wherefore for this highest 
 learning also, by which we are taught even to 
 cleave to God, 1 have no doubt that there are 
 some foundations of the system, which must 
 first be firmly laid and afterwards the towering 
 heights of perfection may be placed and raised 
 upon them. And we have a slight idea that 
 these are its first principles ; viz., that we should 
 first learn by what meditations God may be 
 grasped and contemplated, and next that we 
 should manage to keep a very firm hold of this 
 topic whatever it is which we do not doubt is 
 the height of all perfection. And therefore we 
 want you to show us some material for this 
 recollection, by which we may conceive and 
 ever keep the idea of God in the mind, so that 
 by always keeping it before our eyes, when we 
 find that we have dropped away from Him. 
 we may at once be able to recover ourselves 
 and return thither and may succeed in laying 
 hold of it again without any delay from wan- 
 dering around the subject and searching for it. 
 For it happens that when we have wandered 
 away from our spiritual speculations and 
 have come back to ourselves as if waking from 
 
THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC. 
 
 405 
 
 a deadly sleep, and, being thoroughly roused, 
 look for the subject matter, by which we may 
 be able to revive that spiritual recollection 
 which has been destroyed, we are hindered by 
 the delay of the actual search before we find 
 it, and are once more drawn aside from our 
 endeavour, and before the spiritual insight is 
 brought about, the purpose of heart which had 
 been conceived, has disappeared. And this 
 trouble is certain to happen to us for this 
 reason because we do not keep something 
 special firmly set before our eyes like some 
 principle to which the wandering thoughts 
 may be recalled after many digressions and 
 varied excursions ; and, if I may use the ex- 
 pression, after long storms enter a quiet haven. 
 And so it comes to pass that as the mind is 
 constantly hindered by this want of knowledge 
 and difficulty, and is always tossed about 
 vaguely, and as if intoxicated, among various 
 matters, and cannot even retain firm hold for 
 any length of time of anything spiritual which 
 has occurred to it by chance rather than of set 
 purpose : while, as it is always receiving one 
 thing after another, it does not notice either 
 their beginning and origin or even their end. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The answer on the efficacy of understanding, which is 
 gained by experience. 
 
 Isaac : Your minute and subtle inquiry 
 affords an indication of purity being very 
 nearly reached. For no one would be able 
 even to make inquiries on these matters, — 
 I will not say to look within and discriminate, 
 — except one who had been urged to sound 
 the depths of such questions by careful and 
 effectual diligence of mind, and watchful 
 anxiety, and one whom the constant aim after 
 a well controlled life had taught by practical 
 experience to attempt the entrance to this 
 purity and to knock at its doors. And there- 
 fore as I see you, I will not say, standing 
 before the doors of that true prayer of which 
 we have been speaking, but touching its inner 
 chambers and inward parts as it were with 
 the hands of experience, and already laying 
 hold of some parts of it, I do not think that I 
 shall find any difficulty in introducing you now 
 within what I may call its hall, for you to roam 
 about its recesses, as the Lord may direct ; 
 nor do I think that you will be hindered from 
 investigating what is to be shown you by any 
 obstacles or difficulties. For he is next door 
 to understanding who carefully recognizes what 
 he ought to ask about, nor is he far from 
 knowledge, who begins to understand how 
 
 ignorant he is. And therefore I am not afraid 
 of the charge of betraying secrets, and of 
 levity, if I divulge what when speaking in 
 my former discourse on the perfection of 
 prayer I had kept back from discussing, as I 
 think that its force was to be explained to us 
 who are occupied with this subject and inter- 
 est even without the aid of my words, by the 
 grace of God. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Of the method of continual prayer. 
 
 Wherefore in accordance with that system, 
 which you admirably compared to teaching 
 children (who can only take in the first lessons 
 on the alphabet and recognize the shapes of 
 the letters, and trace out their characters with 
 a steady hand if they have, by means of some 
 copies and shapes carefully impressed on wax, 
 got accustomed to express their figures, by 
 constantly looking at them and imitating them 
 daily), we must give you also the form of this 
 spiritual contemplation, on which you may 
 always fix your gaze with the utmost steadiness, 
 and both learn to consider it to your profit in 
 unbroken continuance, and also manage by the 
 practice of it and by meditation to climb to a 
 still loftier insight. This formula then shall 
 be proposed to you of this system, which you 
 want, and of prayer, which every monk in his 
 progress towards continual recollection of God, 
 is accustomed to ponder, ceaselessly revolv- 
 ing it in his heart, having got rid of all 
 kinds of other thoughts ; for he cannot possibly 
 keep his hold over it unless he has freed him- 
 self from all bodily cares and anxieties. And 
 as this was delivered to us by a few of those 
 who were left of the oldest fathers, so it is only 
 divulged by us to a very few and to those who 
 are really keen. And so for keeping up con- 
 tinual recollection of God this pious formula is 
 to be ever set before you. " O God, make 
 speed to save me : O Lord, make haste to help 
 me," 1 for this verse has not unreasonably been 
 picked out from the whole of Scripture for 
 this purpose. For it embraces all the feelings 
 which can be implanted in human nature, and 
 can be fitly and satisfactorily adapted to every 
 condition, and all assaults. Since it contains 
 an invocation of God against every danger, it 
 contains humble and pious confession, it con- 
 tains the watchfulness of anxiety and continual 
 fear, it contains the thought of one's own 
 weakness, confidence in the answer, and the 
 assurance of a present and ever ready help. 
 
 1 Ps. lxix. (lxx.) 2. It is not improbable that this chapter sug- 
 gested to S. Benedict the use of these words as the opening versicle 
 of the hour services, a position which it has ever since occupied in 
 the West. See the Rule of S. Benedict, cc. ix., xvii., and xviii. 
 
406 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 For one who is constantly calling on his pro- 
 tector, is certain that He is always at hand. 
 It contains the glow of love and charity, it con- 
 tains a view of the plots, and a dread 4 of the 
 enemies, from which one, who sees himself day 
 and night hemmed in by them, confesses that 
 he cannot be set free without the aid of his 
 defender. This verse is an impregnable wall 
 for all who are labouring under the attacks of 
 demons, as well as impenetrable coat of mail 
 and a .strong shield. It does not suffer those 
 who are in a state of moroseness and anxiety 
 of mind, or depressed by sadness or all kinds 
 of thoughts to despair of saving remedies, as 
 it shows that He, who is invoked; is ever look- 
 ing on at our struggles and is not far from His 
 suppliants. It warns us whose lot is spiritual 
 success and delight of heart that we ought not 
 to be at all elated or puffed up by our happy 
 condition, which it assures us cannot last with- 
 out God as our protector, while it implores 
 Him not only always but even speedily to help 
 us. This verse, I say, will be found helpful 
 and useful to every one of us in whatever con- 
 dition we may be. For one who always and 
 in all matters wants to be helped, shows that 
 he needs the assistance of God not only in 
 sorrowful or hard matters but also equally in 
 prosperous and happy ones, that he may be de- 
 livered from the one and also made to continue 
 in the other, as he knows that in both of them 
 human weakness is unable to endure without 
 His assistance. I am affected by the passion 
 of gluttony. I ask for food of which the des- 
 ert knows nothing, and in the squalid desert 
 there are wafted to me odours of royal dainties, 
 and I find that even against my will I am drawn 
 to long for them. I must at once say : " O 
 God, make speed to save me : O Lord, make 
 haste to help me." I am incited to anticipate 
 the hour fixed for supper, or I am trying with 
 great sorrow of heart to keep to the limits of 
 the right and regular meagre fare. I must cry 
 out with groans : " O God, make speed to save 
 me : O Lord, make haste to help me." Weak- 
 ness of the stomach hinders me when wanting 
 severer fasts, on account of the assaults of the 
 flesh, or dryness of the belly and constipation 
 frightens me. In order that effect may be 
 given to my wishes, or else that the fire of car- 
 nal lust may be quenched without the remedy 
 of a stricter fast, I must pray : " O God, make 
 speed to save me : O Lord, make haste to help 
 me." When I come to supper, at the bidding 
 of the proper hour I loathe taking food and am 
 prevented from eating anything to satisfy the 
 requirements of nature : I must cry with a 
 sigh : " O God, make speed to save me : O Lord, 
 make haste to help me." When I want for the 
 sake of steadfastness of heart to apply myself 
 
 to reading a headache interferes and stops me, 
 and at the third hour sleep glues my head to 
 the sacred page, and I am forced either to 
 overstep or to anticipate the time assigned 
 to rest ; and finally an. overpowering desire to 
 sleep forces me to cut short the canonical rule 
 for service in the Psalms : in the same way I 
 must cry out : " O God, make speed to save me : 
 
 Lord, make haste to help me." Sleep is 
 withdrawn from my eyes, and for many nights 
 
 1 find myself wearied out with sleeplessness 
 caused by the devil, and all repose and rest by 
 night is kept away from my eyelids ; I must sigh 
 and pray : " O God, make speed to save me : 
 O Lord, make haste to help me." While I am 
 still in the midst of a struggle with sin sud- 
 denly an irritation of the flesh affects me and 
 tries by a pleasant sensation to draw me to 
 consent while in »my sleep. In order that a 
 raging fire from without may not burn up the 
 fragrant blossoms of chastity, I must cry out: 
 " O God, make speed to save me : O Lord, make 
 haste to help me." I feel that the incentive to 
 lust is removed, and that the heat of passion 
 has died away in my members : In order that 
 this good condition acquired, or rather that this 
 grace of God may continue still longer or for- 
 ever with me, I must earnestly say : " O God, 
 make speed to save me : O Lord, make haste 
 to help me." I am disturbed by the pangs of 
 anger, covetousness, gloominess, and driven to 
 disturb the peaceful state in which I was, and 
 which was dear to me : In order that I may 
 not be carried away by raging passion into the 
 bitterness of gall, I must cry out with deep 
 groans : " O God, make speed to save me : O 
 Lord, make haste to help me." I am tried by 
 being puffed up by accidie, vainglory, and 
 pride, and my mind with subtle thoughts flat- 
 ters itself somewhat on account of the coldness 
 and carelessness of others : In order that this 
 dangerous suggestion of the enemy may not get 
 the mastery over me, I must pray with all con- 
 trition of heart : " O God, make speed to save 
 me : O Lord, make haste to help me." I have 
 gained the grace of humility and simplicity, 
 and by continually mortifying my spirit have got 
 rid of the swellings of pride : In order that the 
 " foot of pride " may not again " come against 
 me," and "the hand of the sinner disturb me," 1 
 and that I may not be more seriously damaged 
 by elation at my success, I must cry with all 
 my might, " O God, make speed to save me : O 
 Lord, make haste to help me." I am on fire 
 with innumerable and various wanderings of 
 soul and shiftiness of heart, and cannot collect 
 my scattered thoughts, nor can I even pour 
 forth my prayer without interruption and images 
 
 1 Ps. xxxv. (xxxvi.) 12. 
 
THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC. 
 
 407 
 
 of vain figures, and the recollection of conver- 
 sations and actions, and I feel myself, tied down 
 by such dryness and barrenness that I feel I 
 cannot give birth to any offspring in the shape 
 of spiritual ideas : In order that it may be 
 vouchsafed to me to be set free from this 
 wretched state of mind, from which I cannot 
 extricate myself by any number of sighs and 
 groans, I must full surely cry out : " O God, make 
 speed to save me : O Lord, make haste to help 
 me." Again, I feel that by the visitation of 
 the Holy Spirit I have gained purpose of soul, 
 steadfastness of thought, keenness of heart, 
 together with an ineffable joy and transport of 
 mind, and in the exuberance of spiritual feel- 
 ings I have perceived by a sudden illumination 
 from the Lord an abounding revelation of most 
 holy ideas which were formerly altogether hid- 
 den from me : In order that it may be vouch- 
 safed to me to linger for a longer time in them 
 I must often and anxiously exclaim : " O God, 
 make speed to save me : O Lord, make haste 
 to help me." Encompassed by nightly horrors 
 of devils I am agitated, and am disturbed by 
 the appearances of unclean spirits, my very hope 
 of life and salvation is withdrawn by the hor- 
 ror of fear. Flying to the safe refuge .of this 
 verse, I will cry out with all my might : " O 
 God, make speed to save me : O Lord, make 
 haste to help me.' Again, when I have been 
 restored by the Lord's consolation, and, cheered 
 by His coming, feel myself encompassed as if 
 by countless thousands of angels, so that all of 
 a sudden I can venture to seek the conflict and 
 provoke a battle with those whom a while ago 
 I dreaded worse than death, and whose touch 
 or even approach I felt with a shudder both of 
 mind and body : In order that the vigour of this 
 courage may, by God's grace, continue in me 
 still longer, I must cry out with all my powers : 
 " O God, make speed to save me : O Lord, make 
 haste to help me." We must then ceaselessly 
 and continuously pour forth the prayer of this 
 verse, in adversity that we may be delivered, 
 in prosperity that we may be preserved and 
 not puffed up. Let the thought of this verse, 
 I tell you, be conned over in your breast with- 
 out ceasing. Whatever work you are doing, or 
 office you are holding, or journey you are going, 
 do not cease to chant this. When you are 
 going to bed, or eating, and in the last necessi- 
 ties of nature, think on this. This thought in 
 your heart may be to you a saving formula, and 
 not only keep you unharmed by all attacks of 
 devils, but also purify you from all faults and 
 earthly stains, and lead you to that invisible 
 and celestial contemplation, and carry you on 
 to that ineffable glow of prayer, of which so 
 few have any experience. Let sleep come upon 
 
 you still considering this verse, till having been 
 moulded by the constant use of it, you grow 
 accustomed to repeat it even in your sleep. 
 When you wake let it be the first thing to come 
 into your mind, let it anticipate all your waking 
 thoughts, let it when you rise from your bed 
 send you down on your knees, and thence send 
 you forth to all your work and business, and 
 let it follow you about all day long. This you 
 should think about, according to the Lawgiver's- 
 charge, " at home and walking forth on a jour- 
 ney," J sleeping and waking. This you should 
 write on the threshold and door of your mouth, 
 this you should place on the walls of your house 
 and in the recesses of your heart so that when 
 you fall on your knees in prayer this may be 
 your chant as you kneel, and when you rise up 
 from it to go forth to all the necessary business 
 of life it may be your constant prayer as you 
 stand. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Of the perfection of prayer to which we can rise by the system 
 described. 
 
 This, this is the formula which the mind 
 should unceasingly cling to until, strengthened 
 by the constant use of it and by continual 
 meditation, it casts off and rejects the rich 
 and full material of all manner of thoughts 
 and restricts itself to the poverty of this one 
 verse, and so arrives with ready ease at that 
 beatitude of the gospel, which holds the first 
 place among the other beatitudes : for He 
 says " Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs 
 is the kingdom of heaven." 2 And so one who 
 becomes grandly poor by a poverty of this 
 sort will fulfil this saying of the prophet : 
 " The poor and needy shall praise the name 
 of the Lord." 3 And indeed what greater or 
 holier poverty can there be than that of one 
 who knowing that he has no defence and no 
 strength of his own, asks for daily help from 
 another's bounty, and as he is aware that.every 
 single moment his life and substance depend 
 on Divine assistance, professes himself not 
 without reason the Lord's bedesman, and cries 
 to Him daily in prayer : " But I am poor and 
 needy : the Lord helpeth me." 4 And so by 
 the illumination of God Himself he mounts to 
 that manifold knowledge of Him and begins 
 henceforward to be nourished on sublimer and 
 still more sacred mysteries, in accordance with 
 these words of the prophet : " The high hills 
 are a refuge for the stags, the rocks for the 
 
 1 Deut. vi. 7. 
 
 2 S. Matt. v. 3. 
 
 3 Ps. lxxiii. (lxxiv.) 21. 
 
 4 Ps. xxxix (xl) 17 (LXX.). 
 
4o8 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 hedgehogs," 1 which is very fairly applied in 
 the sense we have given, because whosoever 
 continues in simplicity and innocence is not 
 injurious or offensive to any one, but being con- 
 tent with his own simple condition endeavours 
 simply to defend himself from being spoiled 
 by his foes, and becomes a sort of spiritual 
 hedgehog and is protected by the continual 
 shield of that rock of the gospel, i.e., being 
 sheltered by the recollection of the Lord's pas- 
 sion and by ceaseless meditation on the verse 
 given above he escapes the snares of his op- 
 posing enemies. And of these spiritual hedge- 
 hogs we read in Proverbs as follows : " And 
 the hedgehogs are a feeble folk, who have 
 made their homes in the rocks." 2 And indeed 
 what is feebler than a Christian, what is weaker 
 than a monk, who is not only not permitted 
 any vengeance for wrongs done to him but 
 is actually not allowed to suffer even a slight 
 and silent feeling of irritation to spring up 
 within? But whoever advances from this 
 condition and not only secures the simplicity 
 of innocence, but is also shielded by the vir- 
 tue of discretion, becomes an exterminator of 
 deadly serpents, and has Satan crushed beneath 
 his feet, and by his quickness of mind answers 
 to the figure of the reasonable stag, this man 
 will feed on the mountains of the prophets and 
 Apostles, i.e., on their highest and loftiest 
 mysteries. And thriving on this pasture con- 
 tinually, he will take in to himself all the 
 thoughts of the Psalms and will begin to sing 
 them in such a way that he will utter them 
 with the deepest emotion of heart not as if 
 they were the compositions of the Psalmist, 
 but rather as if they were his own utterances 
 and his very own prayer; and will certainly 
 take them as aimed at himself, and will recog- 
 nize that their words were not only fulfilled 
 formerly by or in the person of the prophet, 
 but that they are fulfilled and carried out daily 
 in his own case. For then the Holy Scriptures 
 lie open to us with greater clearness and as it 
 were their very veins and marrow are exposed, 
 when our experience not only perceives but 
 actually anticipates their meaning, and the 
 sense of the words 1 is revealed to us not by an 
 exposition of them but by practical proof. For 
 if we have experience of the very state of mind 
 in which each Psalm was sung and written, 
 we become like their authors and anticipate 
 the meaning rather than follow it, i.e., gather- 
 ing the force of the words before we really 
 know them, we remember what has happened 
 to us, and what is happening in daily assaults 
 when the thoughts of them come over us, and 
 while we sine them we call to mind all that 
 
 1 Ps. ciii. (civ.) 18. 
 
 "- Prov. xxx. 26 (LXX.). 
 
 our carelessness has brought upon us, or our 
 earnestness has secured, or Divine Providence 
 has granted or the promptings of the foe have 
 deprived us of, or slippery and subtle forget- 
 fulness has carried off, or human weakness 
 has brought about, or thoughtless ignorance 
 has cheated us of. For all these feelings we 
 find expressed in the Psalms so that by seeing 
 whatever happens as in a very clear mirror we 
 understand it better, and so instructed by our 
 feelings as our teachers we lay hold of it as 
 something not merely heard but actually seen, 
 and, as if it were not committed to memory, 
 but implanted in the very nature of things, 
 we are affected from the very bottom of the 
 heart, so that we get at its meaning not by 
 reading the text but by experience anticipating 
 it. And so our mind will reach that incorrupt- 
 ible prayer to which in our former treatise, as 
 the Lord vouchsafed to grant, the scheme of 
 our Conference mounted, and this is not merely 
 not engaged in gazing on any image, but is 
 actually distinguished by the use of no words 
 or utterances ; but with the purpose of the mind 
 all on fire, is produced through ecstasy of 
 heart by some unaccountable keenness of spirit, 
 and the mind being thus affected without the 
 aid of the senses or any visible material pours 
 it forth to God with groanings and sighs that 
 cannot be uttered. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A question as to how spiritual thoughts can be retained without 
 losing them. 
 
 Germanus : We think that you have de- 
 scribed to us not only the system of this spiritual 
 discipline for which we asked, but perfection 
 itself ; and this with great clearness and open- 
 ness. For what can be more perfect and sub- 
 lime than for the recollection of God to be 
 embraced in so brief a meditation, and for it, 
 dwelling on a single verse, to escape from all 
 the limitations of things visible, and to com- 
 prise in one short word the thoughts of all our 
 prayers. And therefore we beg you to explain 
 to us one thing which still remains ; viz., how 
 we can keep firm hold of this verse which you 
 have given us as a formula, in such a way that, 
 as we have been by God's grace set free from 
 the trifles of worldly thoughts, so we may also 
 keep a steady grasp on all spiritual ones. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 On the lightness of thoughts. 
 
 For when the mind has taken in the meaning 
 of a passage in any Psalm, this insensibly slips 
 
THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC. 
 
 409 
 
 away from it, and ignorantly and thoughtlessly 
 it passes on to a text of some other Scripture. 
 And when it has begun to consider this with 
 itself, while it is still not thoroughly explored, 
 the recollection of some other passage springs 
 up, and shuts out the consideration of the for- 
 mer subject. From this too it is transferred 
 to some other, by the entrance of some fresh 
 consideration, and the soul always turns about 
 from Psalm to Psalm and jumps from a pas- 
 sage in the Gospels to read one in the Epistles, 
 and from this passes on to the prophetic 
 writings, and thence is carried to some spiritual 
 history, and so it wanders about vaguely and 
 uncertainly through the whole body of the 
 Scriptures, unable, as it may choose, either to 
 reject or keep hold of anything, or to finish 
 anything by fully considering and examining 
 it, and so becomes only a toucher or taster of 
 spiritual meanings, not an author and possessor 
 of them. And so the mind, as it is always 
 light and wandering, is distracted even in time 
 of service by all sorts of things, as if it were 
 intoxicated, and does not perform any office 
 properly. For instance, while it is praying, it 
 is recalling some Psalm or passage of Scrip- 
 ture. While it is chanting, it is thinking about 
 something else besides what the text of the 
 Psalm itself contains. When it repeats a pas- 
 sage of Scripture, it is thinking about some- 
 thing that has to be done, or remembering 
 something that has been done. And in this way 
 it takes in and rejects nothing in a disciplined 
 and proper way, and seems to be driven about 
 by random incursions, without the power either 
 of retaining what it likes or lingering over it. 
 It is then well for us before everything else 
 to know how we can properly perform these 
 spiritual offices, and keep firm hold of this par- 
 ticular verse which you have given us as a for- 
 mula, so that the rise and fall of our feelings 
 may not be in a state of fluctuation from their 
 own lightness, but may lie under our own 
 control. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The answer how we can gain stability of heart or of thoughts. 
 
 Isaac : Although, in our former discussion 
 on the character of prayer, enough was, as I 
 
 think, said on this subject, yet as you want it 
 repeated to you again, I will give you a brief 
 instruction on steadfastness of heart. There 
 are three things which make a shifting heart 
 steadfast, watchings, meditation, and prayer, 
 diligence in which and constant attention will 
 produce steadfast firmness of mind. But this 
 cannot be secured in any other way unless all 
 cares and anxieties of this present life have 
 been first got rid of by indefatigable persist- 
 ence in work dedicated not to covetousness but 
 to the sacred uses of the monastery, that we 
 may thus be able to fulfil the Apostle's com- 
 mand : " Pray without ceasing." 1 For he prays 
 too little, who is accustomed only to pray at the 
 times when he bends his knees. But he never 
 prays, who even while on his bended knees 
 is distracted by all kinds of wanderings of 
 heart. And therefore what we would be found 
 when at our prayers, that we ought to be before 
 the time of prayer. For at the time of its 
 prayers the mind cannot help being affected by 
 its previous condition, and while it is praying, 
 will be either transported to things heavenly, 
 or dragged down to earthly things by those 
 thoughts in which it had been lingering before 
 prayer. 
 
 Thus far did Abbot Isaac carry on his Se- 
 cond Conference on the character of Prayer to 
 us astonished hearers ; whose instruction on 
 the consideration of that verse quoted above 
 (which he gave as a sort of outline for begin- 
 ners to hold) we greatly admired, and wished 
 to follow very closely, as we fancied that it 
 would be a short and easy method ; but we 
 have found it even harder to observe than that 
 system of ours by which we used formerly to 
 wander here and there in varied meditations 
 through the whole body of the Scriptures with- 
 out being tied by any chains of perseverance. 
 It is then certain that no one is kept away from 
 perfection of heart by not being able to read, 
 nor is rustic simplicity any hindrance to the 
 possession of purity of heart and mind, which 
 lies close at hand for all, if only they will by 
 constant meditation on this verse keep the 
 thoughts of the mind safe and sound towards 
 God. 
 
 1 1 Thess. v. 17, 
 
THE SECOND PART OF THE CONFERENCES 
 OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
PR EFACE. 
 
 Although many of the saints who are taught by your example can scarcely emulate the great- 
 ness of your perfection, with which you shine like great luminaries with marvellous brightness 
 in this world, yet still you, O holy brothers Honoratus and Eucherius, 1 are so stirred by the 
 great glory of those splendid men from whom we received the first principles of monasticism, 
 that one of you, presiding as he does over a large monastery of the brethren, is hoping that 
 his congregation, which learns a lesson from the daily sight of your saintly life, may be 
 instructed in the precepts of those fathers, while the other has been anxious to make his way 
 to Egypt to be edified by the sight of these in the flesh, that he might leave this province 
 that is frozen as it were with the cold of Gaul, and like some pure turtle dove fly to those 
 lands on which the sun of righteousness looks and to which it approaches nearest, and which 
 abound with the ripe fruits of virtues. As a matter of course the greatness of my love wrings 
 this from me ; viz., that considering the desire of the one and the labour of the other, I should 
 not decline the danger and peril of writing, if only to the one there may be added authority 
 among his children, and from the other may be removed the necessity for so risky a journey. 
 Further since neither the Institutes of the ccenobia which we wrote to the best of our ability 
 in twelve books for Bishop Castor of blessed memory, nor the ten Conferences of the fathers 
 living in the desert of Scete, which we composed somehow or other at the bidding of Saints 
 Helladius and Leontius the Bishops, 2 were able to satisfy your faith and zeal, now in order 
 that the reason for our journey may be also known, I have thought that seven Conferences of 
 the three fathers whom we first saw living in another desert, might be written in the same 
 style and dedicated to you, in which whatever has been in our previous works perhaps 
 obscurely explained or even omitted on the subject of perfection, may be supplied. But if 
 even this is not enough to satisfy the holy thirst of your desires, seven other Conferences, 
 which are to be sent to the holy brethren living in the islands of the Stoechades, 3 will, I fancy, 
 satisfy your wants and your ardour. 
 
 1 On Honoratus and Eucherius, see the Introduction, p. 189. 2 Cf The Preface to Conference I. 
 
 3 A group of islands off the coast of France opposite Marseilles; mentioned by Pliny, H. N. III. V., now known as Les Isles d' 'Hieres. 
 
THE SECOND PART OF THE CONFERENCES 
 OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 XI. 
 
 THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH^REMON. 
 
 ON PERFECTION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Description of the town of Thennesus. 
 
 When we were living in a monastery in 
 Syria after our first infancy in the faith, and 
 when after we had grown somewhat we had 
 begun to long for some greater grace of per- 
 fection, we determined straightway to seek 
 Egypt and penetrating even to the remotest 
 desert of the Thebaid, 1 to visit very many of 
 the saints, whose glory and fame had spread 
 abroad everywhere, with the wish if not to 
 emulate them at any rate to know them. And 
 so we came by a very lengthy voyage to a 
 town of Egypt named Thennesus, 2 whose in- 
 habitants are so surrounded either by the sea 
 or by salt lakes that they devote themselves 
 to business alone and get their wealth and 
 substance by naval commerce as the land fails 
 them, so that indeed when they want to build 
 houses, there is no soil sufficient for this, unless 
 it is brought by boat from a distance. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Of Bishop Archebius. 
 
 And when we arrived there, God gratified 
 our wishes, and had brought about the arrival 
 of that most blessed and excellent man Bishop 
 
 1 It is very doubtful whether Cassian ever carried out the inten- 
 tion, of which he here speaks, of visiting the Thebaid. So far as 
 we can trace the course of his wanderings, he does not seem to have 
 penetrated farther into Egypt than the desert of Scete. 
 
 2 Thennesus, a town at the Tanitic mouth of the Nile near Lake 
 Menzaleh. For the description of the neighbouring country com- 
 pare Conference VII. c. xxvi. 
 
 Archbius, 3 who had been carried off from the* 
 assembly of anchorites and given as Bishop 
 to the town of Panephysis, 4 and who kept all 
 his life long to his purpose of solitude with 
 such strictness that he relaxed nothing of the 
 character of his former humility, nor flattered 
 himself on the honour that had been added to 
 him ( for he vowed that he had not been sum- 
 moned to that office as fit for it, but complained 
 that he had been expelled from the monastic 
 system as unworthy of it because though he 
 had spent thirty-seven years in it he had never 
 been able to arrive at the purity so high a pro- 
 fession demands) ; he then when he had re- 
 ceived us kindly and most graciously in the 
 aforesaid Thennesus whither the business of 
 electing a Bishop there had brought him, as 
 soon as he heard of our wish and desire to 
 inquire of the holy fathers even in still more 
 remote parts of Egypt : " Come," said he, " see 
 in the meanwhile the old men who live not far 
 from our monastery, the length of whose ser- 
 vice is shown by their bent bodies, as their 
 holiness shines forth in their appearance, so 
 that even the mere sight of them will give a 
 great lesson to those who see them : and from 
 them you can learn not so much by their 
 words as by the actual example of their holy 
 life, what I grieve that I have lost, and having 
 lost cannot give to you. But I think that my 
 poverty will be somewhat lessened by this zeal 
 of mine, if when you are seeking that pearl of 
 the Gospel which I have not, I at least provide 
 where you can conveniently procure it.' 
 
 3 Archebius has already been mentioned in Conference VII. xxvi. ; 
 and in the Institutes V. xxxvii., xxxviii., two stories are told illustra- 
 tive of his kindness and goodness of disposition ; but he is not 
 known to us from any other source except Caspian's writings. 
 
 4 For the situation of Panephysis, see the note on the Institutes, 
 Book IV. c. xxx. 
 
 415 
 
416 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Description of the desert where Chaeremon, Nesteros, and 
 Joseph lived. 
 
 And so he took his staff and scrip, as is 
 there the custom for all monks starting on a 
 journey, and himself led us as guide of our 
 road to his own city, i.e., Panephysis, the lands 
 of which and indeed the greater part of the 
 neighbouring region (formerly an extremely 
 rich one since from it, as report says, every- 
 thing was supplied for the royal table), had 
 been covered by the sea which was disturbed 
 by a sudden earthquake and overflowed its 
 banks, and so (almost all the villages being in 
 ruins) covered what were formerly rich lands 
 with salt marshes, so that you might think that 
 what is spiritually sung in the psalm was a 
 literal prophecy of that region. " He hath 
 turned rivers into a wilderness ; and the springs 
 of waters into a thirsty land : a fruitful land 
 into saltness for the wickedness of them that 
 dwell therein." 1 Tn these districts then many 
 towns perched in this way on the higher hills 
 were deserted by their inhabitants and turned 
 by the inundation into islands, and these 
 afforded the desired solitude to the holy an- 
 chorites, among whom three old men; viz., 
 Chaeremon, Nesteros and Joseph, stood out 
 as anchorites of the longest standing;. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Of Abbot Chaeremon and his excuse about the teaching which 
 we asked for. 
 
 And so the blessed Archebius thought it best 
 to take us first to Chaeremon, 2 because he was 
 nearer to his monastery, and because he was 
 more advanced than the other two in age : for 
 he had passed the hundredth year of his life, 
 vigorous only in spirit, but with his back 
 bowed with age and constant prayer, so that, 
 as if he were once more in his childhood he 
 crawled with his hands hanging down and rest- 
 ing on the ground. Gazing then at one and 
 the same time on this man's wonderful face 
 and on his walk (for though all his limbs had 
 already failed and were dead yet he had lost 
 none of the severity of his previous strictness) 
 when we humbly asked for the word and doc- 
 trine, and declared that longing for spiritual 
 instruction was the only reason for our coming, 
 he sighed deeply and said : What doctrine can 
 I teach you, I in whom the feebleness of age 
 has relaxed my former strictness, as it has also 
 
 1 Ps. cvi. (cvii.) 33 sg. 
 
 2 Chasremon is perhaps the same person of ivlmm a short account 
 is given in the Lausiac History of Paliadius, c. xcii. 
 
 destroyed my confidence in speaking ? For 
 how could I presume to teach what I do not 
 do, or instruct another in what I know I now 
 practise but feebly and coldly ? Wherefore I 
 do not allow any of the younger men to live 
 with me now that I am of such an advanced 
 age, lest the other's strictness should be re- 
 laxed owing to my example. For the author- 
 ity of a teacher will never be strong unless he 
 fixes it in the heart of his hearer by the actual 
 performance of his duty. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Of our answer to his excuse. 
 
 At this we were overwhelmed with no slight 
 confusion and replied as follows : Although 
 both the difficulty of the place and the solitary 
 life itself, which even a robust youth could 
 scarcely put up with, ought to be sufficient to 
 teach us everything (and indeed without your 
 saying anything they do teach and impress us 
 a very great deal) yet still we ask you to lay 
 aside your silence for a little and in a more 
 worthy manner implant in us those principles 
 by which we may be able to embrace, not so 
 much by imitating it as by admiring it, that 
 goodness which we see in you. For even if 
 our coldness is known to you, and does not 
 deserve to obtain what we are asking for, yet 
 at least the trouble of so long a journey ought 
 to be repaid by it, as we made haste to come 
 here after our first beginning in the monastery 
 of Bethlehem, owing to a longing for your in- 
 struction, and a yearning for our own good. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Abbot Chaeremon's statement that faults can be overcome in 
 three ways. 
 
 Then the blessed Ch^remon: There are, 
 said he, three things which enable men to 
 control their faults ; viz., either the fear of hell 
 or of laws even now imposed ; or the hope and 
 desire of the kingdom of heaven ; or a liking 
 for goodness itself and the love of virtue. 
 For then we read that the fear of evil loathes 
 contamination : " The fear of the Lord hateth 
 evil." 3 Hope also shuts out the assaults of all 
 faults : for " all who hope in Him shall not 
 fail." * Love also fears no destruction from 
 sins, for "love never faileth ; " 5 and again: 
 " love covers a multitude of sins." 6 And there- 
 fore the blessed Apostle confines the whole 
 
 3 Prov. viii. 13. 
 
 4 Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.)23. 
 
 5 1 Cor. xiii. 8. 
 B 1 Pet. iv. 8. 
 
THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH/EREMON. 
 
 417 
 
 sum of salvation in the attainment of those 
 three virtues, saying " Now abideth faith, hope, 
 love, these three." x For faith is what makes 
 us shun the stains of sin from fear of future 
 judgment and punishment ; hope is what with- 
 draws our mind from present things, and 
 despises all bodily pleasures from its expecta- 
 tion of heavenly rewards ; love is what in- 
 flames us with keenness of heart for the love of 
 Christ and the fruit of spiritual goodness, and 
 makes us hate with a perfect hatred whatever 
 is opposed to these. And these three things 
 although they all seem to aim at one and the 
 same end (for they incite us to abstain from 
 things unlawful) yet they differ from each 
 other greatly in the degrees of their excellence. 
 For the two former belong properly to those 
 men who in their aim at goodness have not 
 yet acquired the love of virtue, and the third 
 belongs specially to God and to those who 
 have received into themselves the image and 
 likeness of God. For He alone does the 
 things that are good, with no fear and no 
 thanks or reward to stir Him up, but simply 
 from the love of goodness. For, as Solomon 
 says, "The Lord hath made all things for Him- 
 self." 2 For under cover of His own goodness 
 He bestows all the fulness of good things on 
 the worthy and the unworthy because He can- 
 not be wearied by wrongs, nor be moved by 
 passions at the sins of men, as He ever remains 
 perfect goodness and unchangeable in His 
 nature. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 By what steps we can ascend to the heights of love and what 
 permanence there is in it. 
 
 If then anyone is aiming at perfection, from 
 that first stage of fear which we rightly termed 
 servile (of which it is said : " When ye have 
 done all things say : we are unprofitable ser- 
 vants," 3 ) he should by advancing a step mount 
 to the higher path of hope — which is com- 
 pared not to a slave but to a hireling, because 
 it looks for the payment of its recompense, 
 and as if it were free from care concerning 
 absolution of its sins and fear of punishment, 
 and conscious of its own good works, though 
 it seems to look for the promised reward, yet it 
 cannot attain to that love of a son who, trust- 
 ing in his father's kindness and liberality, has 
 no doubt that all that the father has is his, to 
 which also that prodigal who together with 
 his father's substance had lost the very name 
 of son, did not venture to aspire, when he 
 said : " I am no more worthy to be called thy 
 
 son ; " for after those husks which the swine 
 ate, satisfaction from which was denied to him, 
 i. e., the disgusting food of sin, as he "came to 
 himself," and was overcome by a salutary fear, 
 he already began to loathe the uncleanness of 
 the swine, and to dread the punishment of 
 gnawing hunger, and as if he had already been 
 made a servant, desires the condition of a hire- 
 ling and thinks about the remuneration, and 
 says : " How many hired servants of my father 
 have abundance of bread, and I perish here with 
 hunger. I will then return to my father and 
 will say unto him, ' Father I have sinned against 
 heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy 
 to be called thy son : make me as one of 
 thy hired servants.' " 4 But those words of 
 humble penitence his father who ran to meet 
 him received with greater affection than that 
 with which they were spoken, and was not con- 
 tent to allow him lesser things, but passing 
 through the two stages without delay restored 
 him to his former dignity of sonship. We also 
 ought forthwith to hasten on that by means of 
 the indissoluble grace of love we may mount 
 to that third stage of sonship, which believes 
 that all that the father has is its own, and so 
 we may be counted worthy to receive the 
 image and likeness of our heavenly Father, 
 and be able to say after the likeness of the 
 true son : "All that the Father hath is mine." 5 
 Which also the blessed Apostle declares of us, 
 saying : " All things are yours, whether Paul 
 or Apollos or Cephas, or the world, or life, or 
 death, or things present, or things to come ; all 
 are yours." G And to this likeness the com- 
 mands of our Saviour also summon us : " Be 
 ye." says He, "perfect, even as your Father 
 in heaven is perfect." 7 For in these persons 
 sometimes the love of goodness is found to be 
 interrupted, when the vigour of the soul is 
 relaxed by some coldness or joy or delight, 
 and so loses either the fear of hell for the 
 time, or the desire of future blessings. And . 
 there is indeed in these a stage leading to 
 some advance, which affects us so that when 
 from fear of punishment or from hope of re- 
 ward we begin to avoid sin we are enabled to 
 pass on to the stage of love, for "fear," says 
 one, " is not in love, but perfect love casteth 
 out fear : for fear hath torment, but he who 
 fears is not perfect in love. We therefore love 
 because God first loved us." 8 We can then 
 only ascend to that true perfection when, as 
 He first loved us for the grace of nothing 
 but our salvation, we also have loved Him for 
 the sake of nothing but His own love alone. 
 Wherefore we must do our best to mount with 
 
 1 Cor. xiii. 13. 
 
 2 Prov. xvi. 4. 
 
 3 S. Luke xvii. 10. 
 
 4 S. Luke xv. 17- 
 S. Joh.i xvi. 15. 
 
 1 Cor. iii. 22. 
 7 St. Matt v. 48. 
 
 8 1 John iv. iS, 19. 
 
4i8 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 perfect ardour of mind from this fear to hope, 
 from hope to the love of God, and the love of 
 the virtues themselves, that as we steadily pass 
 on to the love of goodness itself, we may, as 
 far as it is possible for human nature, keep 
 firm hold of what is good. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 How greatly those excel who depart from sin through the 
 feeling of love. 
 
 For there is a great difference between one 
 who puts out the fire of sin within him by fear 
 of hell or hope of future reward, and one who 
 from the feeling Of divine love has a horror of 
 sin itself and of uncleanness, and keeps hold 
 of the virtue of purity simply from the love and 
 longing for purity, and looks for no reward 
 from a promise for the future, but, delighted 
 with the knowledge of good things present, 
 does everything not from regard to punish- 
 ment but from delight in virtue. For this 
 condition can neither abuse an opportunity to 
 sin when all human witnesses are absent, nor 
 be corrupted by the secret allurements of 
 thoughts, while, keeping in its very marrow 
 the love of virtue itself, it not only does not 
 admit into the heart anything that is opposed 
 to it, but actually hates it with the utmost 
 horror. For it is one thing for a man in 
 his delight at some present good to hate the 
 stains of sins and of the flesh, and another 
 thing to check unlawful desires by contemplat- 
 ing the future reward ; and it is one thing to 
 fear present loss and another to dread future 
 punishment. Lastly it is a much greater thing 
 to be unwilling to forsake good for good's own 
 sake, than it is to withhold consent from evil 
 for fear of evil. For in the former case the 
 good is voluntary, but in the latter it is con- 
 strained and as it were violently forced out of 
 ' a reluctant party either by fear of punishment 
 or by greed of reward. For one Avho abstains 
 from the allurements of sin owing to fear, 
 will whenever the obstacle of fear is removed, 
 once more return to what he loves and thus will 
 not continually acquire any stability in good, 
 nor will he ever rest free from attacks because 
 he will not secure the sure and lasting peace 
 of chastity. For where there is the disturb- 
 ance of warfare there cannot help being the 
 danger of wounds. For one who is in the 
 midst of the conflict, even though he is a war- 
 rior and by fighting bravely inflicts frequent 
 and deadly wounds on his foes, must still 
 sometimes be pierced by the point of the 
 enemy's sword. But one who has defeated 
 the attack of sins and is now in the enjoyment 
 
 of the security of peace, and has passed on 
 to the love of virtue itself, will keep this con- 
 dition of good continually, as he is entirely 
 wrapped up in it, because he believes that 
 nothing can be worse than the loss of his in- 
 most chastity. For he deems nothing dearer 
 or more precious than present purity, to whom 
 a dangerous departure from virtue or a poison- 
 ous stain of sin is a grievous punishment. To 
 such an one, I say, neither will regard for the 
 presence of another add anything to his good- 
 ness nor will solitude take anything away 
 from it : but as always and everywhere he bears 
 about with him his conscience as a judge 
 not only of his actions but also of his thoughts, 
 he will especially try to please it, as he knows 
 that it cannot be cheated nor deceived, and 
 that he cannot escape it. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 That love not only makes sons out of servants, but also bestows 
 the image and likeness of God. 
 
 And if to anyone relying on the help of God 
 and not on his own efforts, it has been vouch- 
 safed to acquire this state, from the condition 
 of a servant, wherein is fear, and from a mer- 
 
 I cenary greed of hope, whereby there is sought 
 not so much the good of the donor as the re- 
 compense of reward, he will begin to pass on to 
 the adoption of sons, where there is no longer 
 
 ' fear, nor greed, but that love which never fail- 
 eth continually endures. Of which fear and 
 love the Lord in chiding some shows what 
 
 ' is befitting for each one : " A son knoweth his 
 own father, and a servant feareth his lord : And 
 if I be a Father, where is My honour : and if I 
 be a Lord, where is my fear ? " l For one who 
 is a servant must needs fear because "if know- 
 ing his lord's will he has done things worthy of 
 stripes, he shall be beaten with many stripes." 2 
 Whoever then by this love has attained the 
 image and likeness of God, will now delight in 
 
 ' goodness for the pleasure of goodness itself, 
 and having somehow a like feeling of patience 
 and gentleness will henceforth be angered by 
 no faults of sinners, but in his compassion and 
 sympathy will rather ask for pardon for their 
 infirmities, and. remembering that for so long he 
 himself was tried by the stings of similar pas- 
 sions till by the Lord's mercy he was saved, 
 will feel that, as he was saved from carnal 
 attacks not by the teaching of his own exer- 
 tions but by God's protection, not anger but 
 pity ought to be shown to those who go astray ; 
 and with full peace of mind will he sing to God 
 
 i Mai i. 6. 
 
 S. Luke xii. 47. 
 
THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH.EREMON. 
 
 419 
 
 the following verse : " Thou hast broken my 
 chains. I will offer to Thee the sacrifice of 
 praise ; " and : " except the Lord had helped me, 
 my soul had almost dwelt in hell." x And while 
 he continues in this humility of mind he will be 
 able even to fulfil this Evangelic command of 
 perfection : " Love your enemies, do good to 
 them that hate you, and pray for them that 
 persecute you and slander you." 2 And so it 
 will be vouchsafed to us to attain that reward 
 which is subjoined, whereby we shall not only 
 bear the image and likeness of God, but shall 
 even be called sons : " that ye may be," says 
 He, " sons of your Father which is in heaven, 
 Who maketh His sun to rise on the good and 
 evil, and sends rain on the just and on the un- 
 just : " 3 and this feeling the blessed John knew 
 that he had attained when he said : " that we 
 may have confidence in the day of judgment, 
 because as He is so are we also in this world." 4 
 For in what can a weak and fragile human 
 nature be like Him, except in always showing 
 a calm love in its heart towards the good and 
 evil, the just and the unjust, in imitation of 
 God, and by doing good for the love of good- 
 ness itself, arriving at that true adoption of the 
 sons of God, of which also the blessed Apostle 
 speaks as follows : " Every one that is born of 
 God doeth not sin, for His seed is in him, and 
 he cannot sin, because he is born of God; " and 
 again : " We know that every one who is born 
 of God sinneth not, but his birth oi God pre- 
 serves him, and the wicked one toucheth him 
 not ? " 5 And this must be understood not of 
 all kinds of sins, but only of mortal sins : and 
 if any one will not extricate and cleanse him- 
 self from these, for him the aforesaid Apostle 
 tells us in another place that we ought not even 
 to pray, saying : " If a man knows his brother 
 to be sinning a sin not unto death, let him ask, 
 and He will give him life for them that sin not 
 unto death. There is a sin unto death : I do 
 not say that he should ask for it." 6 But of those 
 which he says are not unto death, from which 
 even those who serve Christ faithfully can- 
 not, with whatever care they keep themselves, 
 be free, of these he says : " If we say that we 
 have no sin we deceive ourselves and the truth 
 is not in us ; " and again : " If we say that we 
 have not sinned, we make Him a liar, and His 
 word is not in us." 7 For it is an impossibility 
 for any one of the saints not to fall into those 
 trivial faults which are committed by word, and 
 thought, and ignorance, and forgetfulness, and 
 necessity, and will, and surprise : which though 
 quite different from that sin which is said to 
 
 1 Ps. cxv. 7, 8 (cxvi. 
 
 2 S. Matt. v. 44. 
 
 3 lb. 45- 
 
 16, 17) ; xciii. (xciv.) 
 
 4 1 John iv. 17. 
 
 5 1 John iii. 9; v. 1! 
 
 lb. ver. 16. 
 1 John i. 8, 10. 
 
 be unto death, still cannot be free from fault 
 and blame. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 How it is the perfection of love to pray for one's enemies and by 
 what signs we may recognize a mind that is not yet purified. 
 
 When then any one has acquired this love of 
 goodness of which we have been speaking, and 
 the imitation of God, then he will be endowed 
 with the Lord's heart of compassion, and will 
 pray also for his persecutors, saying in like 
 manner : " Father, forgive them, for they know 
 not what they do." 8 But it is a clear sign of a 
 soul that is not yet thoroughly purged from the 
 dregs of sin, not to sorrow with a feeling of pity 
 at the offences of others, but to keep to the rigid 
 censure of the judge : for how will he be able 
 to obtain perfection of heart, who is without 
 that by which, as the Apostle has pointed out, 
 the full requirements of the law can be fulfilled, 
 saying : " Bear one another's burdens and so 
 fulfil the law of Christ," 9 and who has not that 
 virtue of love, which " is not grieved, is not 
 puffed up, thinketh no evil," which " endureth 
 all things, beareth all things." 10 For " a right- 
 eous man pitieth the life of his beasts : but the 
 heart of the ungodly is without pity." n And so 
 a monk is quite certain to fall into the same 
 sins which he condemns in another with merci- 
 less and inhuman severity, for " a stern king 
 will fall into misfortunes," and " one who stops 
 his ears so as not to hear the weak, shall him- 
 self cry, and there shall be none to hear him." 12 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 A question why he has called the feeling of fear and hope 
 imperfect. 
 
 Germanus : You have indeed spoken power- 
 fully and grandly of the perfect love of God. 
 But still this fact disturbs us ; viz., that while 
 you were exalting it with such praise, you said 
 that the fear of God and the hope of eternal 
 reward were imperfect, though the prophet 
 seems to have thought quite differently about 
 them, where he said : " Fear the Lord, all ye 
 His saints, for they that fear Him lack no- 
 thing." 13 And again in the matter of observing 
 God's righteous acts he admits that he has 
 done them from consideration of the reward, 
 saying : " I have inclined my heart to do thy 
 righteous acts forever, for the reward," 14 And 
 the Apostle says : " By faith Moses when he 
 
 34- 
 
 8 S. Luke xxiii, 
 
 9 Gal. vi. 2. 
 10 1 Cor. xiii. 4-7. 
 
 » Prov. xii. 10 (LXX.). 
 
 12 Prov. xiii. 17 ; xxi. 13. 
 
 13 Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 10 
 
 14 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 112. 
 
420 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 was grown up, denied himself to be the son of 
 Pharaoh's daughter ; choosing rather to be 
 afflicted with the people of God than to have 
 the pleasure of sin for a season, esteeming 
 the reproach of Christ greater riches than the 
 treasure of the Egyptians ; for he looked unto 
 the reward." : How then can we think that they 
 are imperfect, if the blessed David boasted 
 that he did the righteous acts of God in hope 
 of a recompense, and the giver of the Law is 
 said to have looked for a future reward and so 
 to have despised the adoption to royal dignity, 
 and to have preferred the most terrible afflic- 
 tion to the treasures of the Egyptians ? 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The answer on the different kinds of perfection. 
 
 ChjEremon: In accordance with the condi- 
 tion and measure of every mind Holy Scrip- 
 ture summons our free wills to different grades 
 of perfection. For no uniform crown of per- 
 fection can be offered to all men, because all 
 have not the same virtue, or purpose, or fer- 
 vour, and so the Divine Word has in some way 
 appointed different ranks and different mea- 
 sures of perfection itself. And that this is so 
 the variety of beatitudes in the gospel clearly 
 shows. For though they are called blessed, 
 whose is the kingdom of heaven, and blessed 
 are they who shall possess the earth, and 
 blessed are they who shall receive their con- 
 solation, and blessed are they who shall be 
 filled, yet we believe that there is a great dif- 
 ference between the habitations of the king- 
 dom of heaven, and the possession of the 
 earth, whatever it be, and also between the 
 reception of consolation and the fulness and 
 satisfaction of righteousness ; and that there 
 is a great distinction between those who shall 
 obtain mercy, and those who shall be deemed 
 worthy to enjoy the most glorious vision of 
 God. " For there is one glory of the sun, and 
 another glory of the moon, and another glory 
 of the stars : for star differeth from star in 
 glory, so also is the resurrection of the dead." 3 
 While therefore in accordance with this rule 
 holy Scripture praises those who fear God, and 
 says " Blessed are all they that fear the Lord," 3 
 and promises them for this a full measure of 
 bliss, yet it says again : " There is no fear in 
 love, but perfect love casteth out fear : for 
 fear hath torment. But he that feareth is not 
 yet perfect in love." 4 And again, though it is 
 a grand thing to serve God, and it is said : 
 
 " Serve the Lord in fear ; " and : " It is a great 
 thing for thee to be called My servant ; " and: 
 I " Blessed is that servant whom his Lord, when 
 He cometh, shall find so doing," 5 yet it is said 
 to the Apostles : " I no longer call you ser- 
 vants, for the servant knoweth not what his 
 Lord doeth : but I call you friends, for all 
 things whatsoever I have heard from my 
 Father, I have made known unto you." 6 And 
 once more : "Ye are My friends, if ye do what- 
 ever I command you." 7 You see then that 
 there are different stages of perfection, and 
 that we are called by the Lord from high things 
 to still higher in such a way that he who has 
 become blessed and perfect in the fear of God, 
 going as it is written "from strength to strength," 6 
 and from one perfection to another, i.e., mount- 
 ing with keenness of soul from fear to hope, 
 is summoned in the end to that still more 
 blessed stage, which is love, and he who has 
 been " a faithful and wise servant " 9 will pass 
 to the companionship of friendship and to the 
 adoption of sons. So then our saying also 
 must be understood according to this mean- 
 ing : not that we say that the consideration of 
 that enduring punishment or of that blessed 
 recompense which is promised to the saints is 
 of no value, but because, though they are use- 
 ful and introduce those who pursue them to 
 the first beginning of blessedness, yet again 
 love, wherein is already fuller confidence, 
 and a lasting joy, will remove them from 
 servile fear and mercenary hope to the love of 
 God, and carry them on to the adoption of 
 sons, and somehow make them from being 
 perfect still more perfect. For the Saviour 
 says that in His Father's house are "many 
 mansions," 10 and although all the stars seem to 
 be in the sky, yet there is a mighty difference 
 between the brightness of the sun and of the 
 moon, and between that of the morning star 
 and the rest of the stars. And therefore the 
 blessed Apostle prefers it not only above fear 
 and hope but also above all gifts which are 
 counted great and wonderful, and shows the 
 way of love still more excellent than all. For 
 when after finishing his list of spiritual gifts 
 of virtues he wanted to describe its members, 
 he began as follows: "And yet I show unto 
 you a still more excellent way. Though I 
 speak with the tongues of men and angels, and 
 though I have the gift of prophecy and know 
 all mysteries and all knowledge, and though 
 I have all faith so that I can remove moun- 
 tains, and though I bestow all my goods to 
 feed the poor, and give my body to be burned, 
 
 1 Heb. xi. 24-26. 
 
 2 1 Cor. xv. 41, 42. 
 
 3 Ps. cxxvii. (cxxviii.) 1. 
 * 1 John iv. 18. 
 
 Ps. ii. 11 ; Is. xlix. 6; S. Matt. xxiv. 46. 8 Ps. lxxxiii. (lxxxiv.) 
 S. John xv. 14, 15. n S. Matt. xxiv. 45. 
 
 S. John xv. 13. 10 S. John xiv. 2. 
 
THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CHyEREMON. 
 
 421 
 
 but have not love, it profiteth me nothing." 
 You see then that nothing more precious, noth- 
 ing more perfect, nothing more sublime, and, 
 if I may say so, nothing more enduring can 
 be found than love. For "whether there be 
 prophecies, they shall fail, whether there be 
 tongues, they shall cease, whether there 
 be knowledge, it shall be destroyed," but "love 
 never faileth," 1 and without it not only those 
 most excellent kinds of gifts, but even the 
 glory of martyrdom itself will fail. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Of the fear which is the outcome of the greatest love. 
 
 Whoever then has been established in this 
 perfect love is sure to mount by a higher stage 
 to that still more sublime fear belonging to 
 love, which is the outcome of no dread of 
 punishment or greed of reward, but of the 
 greatest love ; whereby a son fears with ear- 
 nest affection a most indulgent father, or a 
 brother fears his brother, a friend his friend, 
 or a wife her husband, while there is no dread 
 of his blows or reproaches, but only of a slight 
 injury to his love, and while in every word as 
 well as act there is ever care taken by anxious 
 affection lest the warmth of his love should j 
 cool in the very slightest degree towards the 
 object of it. And one of the prophets has 
 finely described the grandeur of this fear, 
 saying : " Wisdom and knowledge ai'e the 
 riches of salvation : the fear of the Lord is his 
 treasure." 2 He could not describe with greater 
 clearness the worth and value of that fear than 
 by saying that the riches of our salvation, 
 which consist in true wisdom and knowledge 
 of God, can only be preserved by the fear of 
 the Lord. To this fear then not sinners but 
 saints are invited by the prophetic word where 
 the Psalmist says : " O fear the Lord, all ye His 
 Saints : for they that fear Him lack nothing." 3 
 For where a man fears the Lord with this fear, 
 it is certain that nothing is lacking to his per- 
 fection. For it was clearly of that other penal 
 fear that the Apostle John said that " He who 
 feareth is not made perfect in love, for fear 
 hath punishment.'' 4 There is then a great 
 difference between this fear, to which nothing is 
 lacking, which is the treasure of wisdom and 
 knowledge, and that imperfect fear which is 
 called "the beginning of wisdom," 5 and which 
 has in it punishment and so is expelled from 
 the hearts of those who are perfect by the in- 
 coming of the fulness of love. For " there is no 
 
 1 1 Cor. xii. 31 ; xiii. 1-8. 3 Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 10. ° Ps. ex. (cxi.) 10. 
 
 2 Is. xxxiii. 6. 4 1 John iv. 18. 
 
 fear in love, but perfect love casteth out fear." ° 
 And in truth if the beginning of wisdom con- 
 sists in fear, what will its perfection be except 
 in the love of Christ which, as it contains in 
 it the fear which belongs to perfect love, is 
 called not the beginning but the treasure of 
 wisdom and knowledge ? And therefore there 
 is a twofold stage of fear. The one for be- 
 ginners, i.e., for those who are still subject to 
 the yoke and to servile terror ; of which we 
 read: "And the servant shall fear his Lord ;" 7 
 and in the gospel : " I no longer call you ser- 
 vants, for the servant knoweth not what his 
 Lord doeth ; " and therefore " the servant," 
 He tells us, " abideth not in the house for ever, 
 but the Son abideth for ever." 8 For He is 
 instructing us to pass on from that penal fear 
 to the fullest freedom of love, and the con- 
 fidence of the friends and sons of God. Finally 
 the blessed Apostle, who had by the power 
 of the Lord's love already passed through the 
 servile stage of fear, scorns lower things and 
 declares that he has been enriched with good 
 things by the Lord, "for God hath not given 
 us," he says, "a spirit of fear, but of power and 
 of love and of a sound mind." 9 Those also 
 who are inflamed with a perfect love of their 
 heavenly Father, and whom the Divine adop- 
 tion has already made sons instead of servants, 
 he addresses in these words : " For ye have not 
 received the spirit of bondage again to fear, but 
 ye received the spirit of adoption, whereby we 
 cry, Abba, Father." 10 It is of this fear too, that 
 the prophet spoke when he would describe that 
 sevenfold spirit, which according to the mys- 
 tery of the Incarnation, full surely descended 
 on the God man : u " And there shall rest 
 upon Him the Spirit of the Lord : the Spirit 
 of wisdom and of understanding, the Spirit of 
 counsel and of might, the Spirit of knowledge 
 and of true godliness," and in the last place 
 he adds as something special these words : 
 " And the Spirit of the fear of the Lord shall 
 fill Him." 12 Where we must in the first place 
 notice carefully that he does not say " and 
 there shall rest upon Him the Spirit of fear," as 
 he said in the earlier cases, but he says " there 
 shall fill Him the Spirit of the fear of the 
 Lord." For such is the greatness of its rich- 
 ness that when once it has seized on a man 
 by its power, it 'takes possession not of a 
 portion but of his whole mind. And not with- 
 out good reason. For as it is closely joined 
 to that love which " never faileth," it not only 
 fills the man, but takes a lasting and inseparable 
 
 6 1 John iv. 18. 
 ' Mai. i. 6 1 (LXX.). 
 
 10 Rom. viii. 15. 
 
 11 Homo Dominicus. 
 
 12 Is. xi. 2, 3. 
 
 8 S. John xv. 15; viii. 35. 
 
 9 2 Tim. i. 7. 
 
 See the note on Against Nestorius, V. v. 
 
422 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 and continual possession of him in whom it 
 has begun, and is not lessened by any allure- 
 ments of temporal joy or delights, as is some- 
 times the case with that fear which is cast out. 
 This then is the fear belonging to perfection, 
 with which we are told that the God-man, 1 who 
 came not only to redeem mankind, but also to 
 give us a pattern of perfection and example of 
 goodness, was filled. For the true Son of God 
 " who did no sin neither was guile found in His 
 mouth," 2 could not feel that servile fear of 
 punishment. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A question about complete chastity. 
 
 Germanus : Now that you have finished 
 your discourse on perfect chastity, we want 
 also to ask somewhat more freely about the 
 end of chastity. For we do not doubt that 
 those lofty heights of love, by which, as you 
 have hitherto explained, we mount to the im- 
 age and likeness of God, cannot possibly exist 
 without perfect purity. But we should like to 
 know whether a lasting grant of it can be se- 
 cured so that no incitement to lust may ever 
 
 disturb the serenity of our heart, and that thus 
 we may be enabled to pass the time of our 
 so journeying in the flesh free from this carnal 
 passion, so as never to be inflamed by the fire 
 of excitement. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The postponement of the explanation which is asked for. 
 
 Ch/eremon : It is indeed a sign of the utmost 
 blessedness and of singular goodness both con- 
 tinually to learn and to teach that love by which 
 we cling to the Lord, so that meditation on 
 Him may, as the Psalmist says, occupy all the 
 days and nights of our life, 3 and may support 
 our soul, which insatiably hungers and thirsts 
 after righteousness, by continually chewing the 
 cud of this heavenly food. But we must also, 
 in accordance with the kindly forethought of 
 our Saviour, make some provision for the food 
 of the body, that we faint not by the way, 4 for 
 " the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is 
 weak." 5 And this we must now secure by tak- 
 ing a little food, so that after supper, the mind 
 may be rendered more attentive for the careful 
 tracing out of what you want. 
 
 XII. 
 THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH/EREMON. 
 
 ON CHASTITY. 
 
 Not translated. 
 
 XIII. 
 THE THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH/EREMON. 
 
 ON THE PROTECTION OF GOD* 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 When after a short sleep we returned for 
 morning service and were waiting for the old 
 man, Abbot Germanus was troubled by great 
 
 1 Homo Vominicus. 
 
 2 i Pet. ii 22. 
 
 3 Cf. Ps. i. 2. 5 S. Matt. xxvi. 41. 
 * Cf. S. Matt. xv. 32. 
 
 scruples because in the previous discussion, 
 the force of which had inspired us with the 
 utmost longing for this chastity which was till 
 now unknown to us, the blessed old man had 
 by the addition of a single sentence broken 
 down the claims of man's exertions, adding 
 that man even though he strive with all his 
 
 6 On the Semi-Pelagianism of this Conference and the erroneous 
 passages from it extracted by Prosper, see the Introduction, p. 190, sg. 
 
THE THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH^REMON. 
 
 423 
 
 might for a good result, yet cannot become 
 master of what is good unless he has acquired 
 it simply by the gift of Divine bounty and not 
 by the efforts of his own toil. While then we 
 were puzzling over this question the blessed 
 Chseremon arrived at the cell, and as he saw 
 that we were whispering together about some- 
 thing, he cut the service of prayers and Psalms 
 shorter than usual, and asked us what was the 
 matter. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A question why the merit of good deeds may not be ascribed 
 to the exertions of the man who does them. 
 
 Then Germanus : As we are almost shut 
 out, so to speak, by the greatness of that splen- 
 did virtue, which was described in last night's 
 discussion, from believing in the possibility of 
 it, so, if you will pardon my saying so, it seems 
 to us absurd for the reward of our efforts, i.e., 
 perfect chastity, which is gained by the earnest- 
 ness of one's own toil, not to be ascribed chiefly 
 to the exertions of the man who makes the 
 effort. For it is foolish, if, when for example, 
 we see a husbandman taking the utmost pains 
 over the cultivation of the ground, we do not 
 ascribe the fruits to his exertions. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The answer that without God's help not only perfect chastity 
 but all good of every kind cannot be performed. 
 
 Ch^eremon : By this very instance which 
 you bring forward we can still more clearly 
 prove that the exertions of the worker can do 
 nothing without ' God's aid. For neither can 
 the husbandman, when he has spent the ut- 
 most pains in cultivating the ground, forthwith 
 ascribe the produce of the crops and the rich 
 fruits to his own exertions, as he finds that 
 these are often in vain unless opportune rains 
 and a quiet and calm winter aids them, so 
 that we have often seen fruits already ripe 
 and set and thoroughly matured snatched as 
 it were from the hands of those who were 
 grasping them ; and their continuous and 
 earnest efforts were of no use to the workers 
 because they were not under the guidance of 
 the Lord's assistance. As then the Divine 
 goodness does not grant these rich crops to 
 idle husbandmen who do not till their fields 
 by frequent ploughing, so also toil all night 
 long is of no use to the workers unless the 
 mercy of the Lord prospers it. But herein 
 human pride should never try to put itself on 
 a level with the grace of God or to intermingle 
 
 itself with it, so as to fancy that its own efforts 
 were the cause of Divine bounty, or to boast 
 that a very plentiful crop of fruits was an 
 answer to the merits of its own exertions. 
 For a man should consider and with a most 
 careful- scrutiny weigh the fact that he could 
 not by his own strength apply those very 
 efforts which he has earnestly used in his 
 desire for* wealth, unless the Lord's protection 
 and pity had given him strength for the per- 
 formance of all agricultural labours ; and that 
 his own will and strength would have been 
 powerless unless Divine compassion had sup- 
 plied the means for the completion of them, 
 as they sometimes fail either from too much 
 or from too little rain. For when vigour has 
 been granted by the Lord to the oxen, and 
 bodily health and the power to do all the 
 work, and prosperity in undertakings, still a 
 man must pray lest there come to him, as 
 Scripture says, " a heaven of brass and an 
 earth of iron," and " the cankerworm eat what 
 the locust hath left, and the palmerworm 
 eat what the cankerworm hath left, and the 
 mildew destroys what the palmerworm hath 
 left." 1 Nor is it only in this that the efforts of 
 the husbandman in his work need God's help, 
 unless it also averts unlooked for accidents by 
 which, even when the field is rich with the 
 expected fruitful crops, not only is the man 
 deprived of what he has vainly hoped and 
 looked for, but actually loses the abundant 
 fruits which he has already gathered and 
 stored up in the threshing floor or in the barn. 
 From which we clearly infer that the initiative 
 not only of our actions but also of good 
 thoughts comes from God, who inspires us 
 with a good will to begin with, and supplies 
 us with the opportunity of carrying out what 
 we rightly desire : for " every good gift and 
 every perfect gift cometh down from above, 
 from the Father of lights," 2 who both begins 
 what is good, and continues it and completes it 
 in us, as the Apostle says : " But He who giveth 
 seed to the sower will both provide bread to 
 eat and will multiply your seed and make the 
 fruits of your righteousness to increase." 3 But 
 it is for us, humbly to follow day by day the 
 grace of God which is drawing us, or else if 
 we resist with "a stiff neck," and (to use the 
 words of Scripture) " uncircumcised ears," i we 
 shall deserve to hear the words of Jeremiah : 
 " Shall he that falleth, not rise again ? and he 
 that is turned away, shall he not turn again ? 
 Why then is this people in Jerusalem turned 
 away with a stubborn revolting ? They have 
 stiffened their necks and refused to return." 5 
 
 1 Deut. xxviii. 23 ; Joel i. 4. 3 2 Cor. ix. 10. 6 Jer. viii. 4, 5. 
 
 2 S. James i. 17. * Acts vii. 51. 
 
424 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 An objection, asking how the Gentiles can be said to have chas- 
 tity without the grace of God. 
 
 Germanus: To this explanation, the excel- 
 lence of which we cannot hastily disprove, it 
 seems a difficulty that it tends to destroy free 
 will. For as we see that many of the heathen 
 to whom the assistance of Divine grace has 
 certainly not been vouchsafed, are eminent not 
 only in the virtues of frugality and patience, 
 but (which is more remarkable) in that of chas- 
 tity, how can we think that the freedom of their 
 will is taken captive and that these virtues are 
 granted to them by God's gift, especially as in 
 following after the wisdom of this world, and in 
 their utter ignorance not only of God's grace 
 but even of the existence of the true God, as 
 we have known Him by the course of our read- 
 ing and the teaching of others — they are said 
 to have gained the most perfect purity of chas- 
 tity by their own efforts and exertions. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The answer on the imaginary chastity of the philosophers. 
 
 Ch^eremon : I am pleased that, though you 
 are fired with the greatest longing to know the 
 truth, yet you bring forward some foolish points, 
 as by your raising these objections the value 
 of the Catholic faith may seem better estab- 
 lished, and if I may use the expression, more 
 thoroughly explored. For what wise man would 
 make such contradictory statements as yes- 
 terday to maintain that the heavenly purity of 
 chastity could not possibly even by God's grace 
 be bestowed on any mortals, and now to hold 
 that it was obtained even by the heathen by 
 their own strength ? But as you have certainly, 
 as I said, made these objections from the de- 
 sire of getting at the truth, consider what we 
 hold on these points. First we certainly must 
 not think that the philosophers attained such 
 chastity of soul as is required of us, on whom it 
 is enjoined that not fornication only, but un- 
 cleanness be not so much as named among us. 
 But they had a sort of //eoonj, i.e., some parti- 
 cle of chastity; viz., continence of the flesh, by 
 which they could restrain their lust from carnal 
 intercourse : but this internal purity of mind and 
 continual purity of body they could not attain, 
 I will not say, in act, but even in thought. Finally 
 Socrates, the most famous of them all, as they 
 themselves esteem him, was not ashamed to 
 profess this of himself. For when one who 
 judged a man's character by his looks (ipvai- 
 oyvuuoiv^ looked at him, and said o/u/nma naid 
 
 egaoTov, i.e., " the eyes of a corrupter of boys," 
 and his scholars rushed at him, and brought 
 him to their master and wanted to avenge the 
 insult, it is said that he checked their indigna- 
 tion with these words : nuvo/wde, ZtuTqcx, • ei/ui /«<>, 
 ene/M de, i.e., Stop, my friends, for I am, but I 
 restrain myself. It is then quite clearly shown 
 not only by our assertions but actually by their 
 own admissions that it was only the perform- 
 ance of indecent acts, i.e., the disgrace of inter- 
 course, that was by force of necessity checked 
 by them, and that the desire and delight in this 
 passion was not shut out from their hearts. 
 But with what horror must one bring forward 
 this saying of Diogenes ? For a thing which 
 the philosophers of this world were not ashamed 
 to bring forward as something remarkable, can- 
 not be spoken or heard by us without shame : 
 for to one to be punished for the crime of adul- 
 tery they relate that he said to 8wQtui> nwlov- 
 fievov d(xfuro) fir\ uyoou'Cf, i.e., ycu should not buy 
 with your death what is sold for nothing. 1 It is 
 clear then that they did not recognize the vir- 
 tue of the true chastity which we seek for, and 
 so it is quite certain that our circumcision which 
 is in the spirit cannot be acquired save only by 
 the gift of God, and that it belongs only to 
 those who serve God with full contrition of 
 their spirit. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 That without the grace of God we cannot make any diligent 
 efforts. 
 
 And therefore though in many things, indeed 
 in everything, it can be shown that men always 
 have need of God's help, and that human weak- 
 ness cannot accomplish anything that has to do 
 with salvation by itself alone, i.e., withouttheaid 
 of God, yet in nothing is this more clearly shown 
 than in the acquisition and preservation of chas- 
 tity. For as the discussion on the difficulty of 
 its perfection is put off for so long, let us mean- 
 while discourse briefly on the instruments of 
 it. Who, I ask, could, however fervent he might 
 be in spirit, relying on his own strength with 
 no praise from men endure the squalor of the 
 desert, and I will not say the daily lack but 
 the supply of dry bread ? Who without the 
 Lord's consolation, could put up with the contin- 
 ual thirst for water, or deprive his human eyes 
 of that sweet and delicious morning sleep, and 
 regularly compress his whole time of rest and 
 repose into the limits of four hours ? Who 
 would be sufficient without God's grace to give 
 continual attendance to reading and constant 
 earnestness in work, receiving no advantage of 
 
 1 The source of these stories of Socrates and Diogenes has not 
 been traced. 
 
THE THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH^EREMON. 
 
 425 
 
 present gain ? And all these matters, as we 
 cannot desire them continuously without divine 
 inspiration, so in no respect whatever can we per- 
 form them without His help. And that we may 
 ensure that these things are not only proved to 
 us by the teaching of experience, but also made 
 still clearer by sure proof and arguments, does 
 not some weakness intervene in the case of 
 many things which we wish usefully to perform, 
 and though the full keenness of our desire and 
 the perfection of our will be not wanting, yet 
 interfere with the wish we have conceived, so 
 that there is no carrying out of our purpose, 
 unless the power to perform it has been granted 
 by the mercy of the Lord, so that, although 
 there are countless swarms of people who are 
 anxious to stick faithfully to the pursuit of vir- 
 tue, you can scarcely find any who are able 
 to carry it out and endure it, to say nothing 
 of the fact that, even when no weakness at 
 all hinders us, the opportunity for doing every- 
 thing that we wish does not lie in our own power. 
 For it is not in our power to secure the silence 
 of solitude and severe fasts and undisturbed 
 study even when we could use such opportuni- 
 ties, but by a chapter of accidents we are often 
 very much against our will kept away from the 
 salutary ordinances so that we have to pray to 
 the Lord for opportunities of place or time in 
 which to practise them. And it is clear that the 
 ability for these is not sufficient for us unless 
 there be also granted to us by the Lord an op- 
 portunity of doing what we are capable of (as 
 the Apostle also says : " For we wanted to come 
 to you once and again, but Satan hindered us " 2 ), 
 so that sometimes we find for our advantage 
 we are called away from these spiritual exer- 
 cises in order that while without our own con- 
 sent the regularity of our routine is broken and 
 we yield something to weakness of the flesh, 
 we may even against our will be brought to 
 a salutary patience. Of which providential 
 arrangement of God the blessed Apostle says 
 something similar : " For which I besought the 
 Lord thrice that it might depart from me. And 
 He said to me : My grace is sufficient for thee : 
 for my strength is made perfect in weakness : " 
 and again : " For we know not what to pray 
 for as we ought." 2 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Of the main purpose of God and His daily Providence. 
 
 For the purpose of God whereby He made 
 man not to perish but to live for ever, stands 
 immovable. And when His goodness sees in 
 
 1 1 Thess. ii. 18. 
 
 2 2 Cor. xii. 8, 9 ; Rom. viii. 26. 
 
 us even the very smallest spark of good will 
 shining forth, which He Himself has struck as 
 it were out of the hard flints of our hearts, He 
 fans and fosters it and nurses it with His 
 breath, as He " willeth all men to be saved and 
 to come to the knowledge of the truth," for as 
 He says, " it is not the will of your Father 
 which is in heaven that one of these little 
 ones should perish," and again it says : 
 " Neither will God have a soul to perish, but 
 recalleth," meaning that he that is cast off 
 should not altogether perish. 3 For He is 
 true, and lieth not when He lays down 
 with an oath : "As I live, saith the Lord 
 God, for I will not the death of a sinner, but 
 that he should turn from his way and live." 4 
 For if He willeth not that one of His little ones 
 should perish, how can we imagine without 
 grievous blasphemy that He does not generally 
 will all men, but only some instead of all to be 
 saved ? Those then who perish, perish against 
 His will, as He testifies against each one of 
 them day by day : " Turn from your evil ways, 
 and why will ye die, O house of Israel ? " 5 
 And again : " How often would I have gath- 
 ered thy children together as a hen gather- 
 eth her chickens under her wings, and ye 
 would not ; " and : " Wherefore is this people in 
 Jerusalem turned away with a stubborn revolt- 
 ing ? They have hardened their faces and 
 refused to return." 6 The grace of Christ then 
 is at hand every day, which, while it "willeth 
 all men to be saved and to come to the know- 
 ledge of the truth," calleth all without any ex- 
 ception, saying : " Come unto Me, all ye that 
 labour and are heavy laden, and I will refresh 
 you." 7 But if He calls not all generally but 
 only some, it follows that not all are heavy 
 laden either with original or actual sin, and 
 that this saying is not a true one : " For all 
 have sinned and come short of the glory of 
 God ; " nor can we believe that " death passed 
 on all men." 8 And so far do all who perish, 
 perish against the will of God, that God can- 
 not be said to have made death, as Scripture 
 itself testifies : " For God made not death, 
 neither rejoiceth in the destruction of the 
 living." 9 And hence it comes that for the 
 most part when instead of good things we ask 
 for the opposite, our prayer is either heard 
 but tardily or not at all ; and again the Lord 
 vouchsafes to bring upon us even against our 
 will, like some most beneficent physician, for 
 our good what we think is opposed to it, and 
 sometimes He delays and hinders our injurious 
 purposes and deadly attempts from having their 
 
 3 1 Tim. ii. 4; S. Matt, xviii. 14; 2 Sam. xiv. 14. 
 
 4 Ezek. xxxiii. 11. 7 S. Matt. xi. 28. 
 
 5 lb. s Rom. iii. 23 ; v, 
 S. Matt, xxiii. 37; Jer. viii. 5. 9 Wisdom i. 13. 
 
426 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 horrible effects, and, while we are rushing 
 headlong towards death, draws us back to 
 salvation, and rescues us without our know- 
 ing it from the jaws of hell. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Of the grace of God and the freedom of the will. 
 
 And this care of His and providence with 
 regard to us the Divine word has finely de- 
 scribed by the prophet Hosea under the figure 
 of Jerusalem as an harlot, and inclining with 
 disgraceful eagerness to the worship of idols, 
 where when she says : " I will go after my 
 lovers, who give me my bread, and my water, 
 and my wool, and my flax, and my oil, and my 
 drink ; " the Divine consideration feplies hav- 
 ing regard to her salvation and not to her 
 wishes : " Behold I will hedge up thy way with 
 thorns, and I will stop it up with a wall, and 
 she shall not find her paths. And she shall 
 follow after her lovers, and shall not overtake 
 them : and she shall seek them, and shall not 
 find them, and shall say : I will return to my 
 first husband, because it was better with me 
 then than now." * And again our obstinacy, 
 and scorn, with which we in our rebellious 
 spirit disdain Him when He urges us to a salu- 
 tary return, is described in the following 
 comparison: He says : " And I said thou shalt 
 call Me Father, and shalt not cease to walk 
 after Me. But as a woman that despiseth her 
 lover, so hath the house of Israel despised Me, 
 saith the Lord." 2 Aptly then, as He has com- 
 pared Jerusalem to an adulteress forsaking 
 her husband, He compares His own love and 
 persevering goodness to a man who is dying 
 of love for a woman. For the goodness and 
 love of God, which He ever shows to mankind, 
 — since it is overcome by no injuries so as 
 to cease from caring for our salvation, or be 
 driven from His first intention, as if vanquished 
 by our iniquities, — could not be more fitly 
 described by any comparison than the case 
 of a man inflamed with most ardent love for 
 a woman, who is consumed by a more burning 
 passion for her, the more he sees that he is 
 slighted and despised by her. The Divine 
 protection then is inseparably present with 
 us, and so great is the kindness of the Creator 
 towards His creatures, that His Providence 
 not only accompanies it, but actually con- 
 stantly precedes it, as the prophet expe- 
 rienced and plainly confessed, saying : " My 
 God will prevent me with His mercy." 3 And 
 when He sees in us some beginnings of a good 
 
 1 Hosea ii. 5-7. 2 Jer. iii. 19, 20. 3 p s . 1-viii. (lix.) 11. 
 
 will, He at once enlightens it and strengthens 
 it and urges it on towards salvation, increasing 
 that which He Himself implanted or which 
 He sees to have arisen from our own efforts. 
 For He says " Before they cry, I will hear them : 
 While they are still speaking I will hear them ; " 
 and again : "As soon as He hears the voice of 
 thy crying, He will answer thee." 4 And in 
 His goodness, not only does He inspire us 
 with holy desires, but actually creates occa- 
 sions for life and opportunities for good results, 
 and shows to those in error the direction of 
 the way of salvation. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Of the power of our good will, and the grace of God. 
 
 Whence human reason cannot easily decide 
 how the Lord gives to those that ask, is found 
 by those that seek, and opens to those that 
 knock, and on the other hand is found by 
 those that sought Him not, appears openly 
 among those who asked not for Him, and all 
 the day long stretches forth His hands to an 
 unbelieving and gainsaying people, calls those 
 who resist and stand afar off, draws men 
 against their will to salvation, takes away from 
 those who want to sin the faculty of carrying 
 out their desire, in His goodness stands in the 
 way of those who are rushing into wickedness. 
 But who can easily see how it is that the com- 
 pletion of our salvation is assigned to our own 
 will, of which it is said: " If ye be willing, and 
 hearken unto Me, ye shall eat the good things 
 of the land," 5 and how it is " not of him that 
 willeth or runneth, but of God that hath 
 mercy?" 6 What too is this, that God "will 
 render to every man according to his works ; " 7 
 and "it is God who worketh in you both to will 
 and to do, of His good pleasure ;" 8 and " this 
 is not of yourselves but it is the gift of God : not 
 of works, that no man may boast ? " 9 What is 
 this too which is said : " Draw near to the Lord, 
 and He will draw near to you," 10 and what He 
 says elsewhere : " No man cometh unto Me ex- 
 cept the Father who sent Me draw Him ? " n 
 What is it that we find : " Make straight paths 
 for your feet and direct your ways," 12 and what 
 is it that we say in our prayers : " Direct my way 
 in Thy sight," and " establish my goings in Thy 
 paths, that my footsteps be not moved ? " 13 
 What is it again that we are admonished: 
 " Make you a new heart and a new spirit," 14 and 
 what is this which is promised to us : "I will 
 
 4 Is. lxv. 24 ; xxx. 19. 8 Phil. ii. 13. I2 Prov. iv. 26 (LXX.). 
 
 5 Is. i. 19. 9 Eph. ii. 8, 9. 13 Ps. v. 9; xvi. (xvii.) 5. 
 Rom. ix. 16. 10 S. James iv. 8. 14 Ezek. xviii 31. 
 
 7 Rom. ii. 6. 1J S. John vi. 44. 
 
THE THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH^EREMON. 
 
 427 
 
 give them one heart and will put a new spirit 
 within them : " and " I will take away the stony 
 heart from their flesh and will give them an 
 heart of flesh that they may walk in Thy 
 statutes and keep My judgments ? " 1 What 
 is it that the Lord commands, where He says : 
 " Wash thine heart of iniquity, O Jerusalem, 
 that thou mayest be saved," 2 and what is it 
 that the prophet asks for from the Lord, when 
 he says " Create in me a clean heart, O God," 
 and again : " Thou shalt wash me, and I shall 
 be whiter than snow ? " 3 What is it that is 
 said to us : " Enlighten yourselves with the 
 light of knowledge ; " 4 and this which is said of 
 God : " Who teacheth man knowledge ; " 5 and : 
 " the Lord enlightens the blind," 6 or at any 
 rate this, which we say in our prayers with the 
 prophet: "Lighten mine eyes that I sleep not 
 in death," 7 unless in all these there is a 
 declaration of the grace of God and the free- 
 dom of our will, because even of his own 
 motion a man can be led to the quest of virtue, 
 but always stands in need of the help of the 
 Lord ? For neither does anyone enjoy good 
 health whenever he will, nor is he at his own will 
 and pleasure set free from disease and sickness. 
 But what good is it to have desired the bless- 
 ing of health, unless God, who grants us the 
 enjoyments, of life itself, grant also vigorous 
 and sound health ? But that it may be still 
 clearer that through the excellence of nature 
 which is granted by the goodness of the 
 Creator,_sometimes the first beginnings of a 
 good will arise, which however cannot attain 
 to the complete performance of what is good 
 unless it is guided by the Lord, the Apostle 
 bears witness and says : " For to will is present 
 with me, but to perform what is good I find 
 not." 8 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 On the weakness of free will. 
 
 For Holy Scripture supports the freedom of 
 the will where it says : " Keep thy heart with 
 all diligence," 9 but the Apostle indicates its 
 weakness by saying " The Lord keep your 
 hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." 10 David 
 asserts the power of free will, where he says 
 " I have inclined my heart to do Thy righteous 
 acts," u but the same man in like manner 
 teaches us its weakness, by praying and say- 
 ing, " Incline my heart unto Thy testimonies 
 and not to covetousness : " 12 Solomon also : 
 " The Lord incline our hearts unto Himself 
 
 1 Ezek. i. 19, 20. B Ps. xciii. (xciv.) 10. 9 Prov. iv. 23. 
 
 2 Jer. iv. 14. » Ps. cxlv. (cxlvi.)8. 10 Phil. iv. 7. 
 
 3 Ps. 1. (li.) 12, 9. 1 Ps. xii. (xiii.) 4. " Fs. cxviii. (cxix.) 112. 
 
 4 Hos. x. 12 (LXX.). 8 Rom. vii. 18. 12 lb. ver 36. 
 
 that we may walk in all His ways and keep 
 His commandments, and ordinances and judg- 
 ments." 13 The Psalmist denotes the power of 
 our will, where he says : " Keep thy tongue 
 from evil, and thy lips that they speak no 
 guile," 14 our prayer testifies to its weakness, 
 when we say : " O Lord, set a watch before 
 my mouth, and keep the door of my lips." 15 
 The importance of our will is maintained by 
 the Lord, when we find " Break the chains of 
 thy neck, O captive daughter of Zion : " 16 of its 
 weakness the prophet sings, when he says : 
 " The Lord looseth them that are bound : " and 
 " Thou hast broken my chains : To Thee will I 
 offer the sacrifice of praise." " We hear in the 
 gospel the Lord summoning us to come speed- 
 ily to Him by our free will : " Come unto Me 
 all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I 
 will refresh you," 1S but the same Lord testifies 
 to its weakness, by saying : " No man can 
 come unto Me except the Father which sent 
 Me draw him." 19 The Apostle indicates our 
 free will by saying : " So run that ye may ob- 
 tain : " 20 but to its weakness John Baptist 
 bears witness where he says : " No man can 
 receive anything of himself, except it be 
 given him from above." 21 We are commanded 
 to keep our souls with all care, when the 
 Prophet says : " Keep your souls," 22 but by the 
 same spirit another Prophet proclaims : " Ex- 
 cept the Lord keep the city, the watchman 
 waketh but in vain." 23 The Apostle writing 
 to the Philippians, to show that their will is 
 free, says " Work out your own salvation with 
 fear and trembling," but to point out its weak- 
 ness, he adds : " For it is God that worketh 
 in you both to will and to do of His good 
 pleasure." 24 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Whether the grace of God precedes or follows our good will. 
 
 And so. these are somehow mixed up and in- 
 discriminately confused, so that among many 
 persons, which depends on the other is involved 
 in great questionings, i.e., does God have com- 
 passion upon us because we have shown the 
 beginning of a good will, or does the begin- 
 ning of a good will follow because God has 
 had compassion upon us ? For many believing 
 each of these and asserting them more widely 
 than is right are entangled in all kinds of op- 
 posite errors. For if we say that the begin- 
 ning of free will is in our own power, what 
 
 13 1 Kings viii. 5S. 10 S. John vi. 44. 
 
 14 Ps. xxxiii. fxxxiv.) 14. 20 1 Cor. ix. 24. 
 
 15 Ps. cxl. (cxli.) 3. 21 S. John iii. 27. 
 10 Is. Hi. 2. 22 Jer. xvii. 21. 
 
 17 Ps. cxlv(cxlvi.) 7 ; cxv.(cxvi.) 16, 17. 23 Ps. cxxvi. (cxxvii) I. 
 
 18 S. Matt. xi. 2S. 24 Phil. ii. 12, 13. 
 
428 
 
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 about Paul the persecutor, what about Mat- 
 thew the publican, of whom the one was 
 drawn to salvation while eager for bloodshed 
 and the punishment of the innocent, the other 
 for violence and rapine ? But if we say that the 
 beginning of our free will is always due to 
 the inspiration of the grace of God, what about 
 the faith of Zaccheus, or what are we to say 
 of the goodness of the thief on the cross, who 
 by their own desires brought violence to bear 
 on the kingdom of heaven and so prevented 
 the special leadings of their vocation ? But if 
 we attribute the performance of virtuous acts, 
 and the execution of God's commands to our 
 own will, how do we pray : " Strengthen, O 
 God, what Thou hast wrought in us ; " and 
 " The work of our hands stablish Thou upon 
 us ? " x We know that Balaam was brought to 
 curse Israel, but we see that when he wished 
 to curse he was not permitted to. Abime- 
 lech is preserved from touching Rebecca and 
 so sinning against God. Joseph is sold by 
 the envy of his brethren, in order to bring 
 about the descent of the children of Israel 
 into Egypt, and that while they were contem- 
 plating the death of their brother provision 
 might be made for them against the famine 
 to come : as Joseph shows when he makes him- 
 self known to his brethren and says : " Fear 
 not, neither let it be grievous unto you that ye 
 sold me into these parts : for for your salva- 
 tion God sent me before you ; " and below : 
 " For God sent me before that ye might be pre- 
 served upon the earth and might have food 
 whereby to live. Not by your design was I 
 sent but by the will of God, who has made me 
 a father to Pharaoh and lord of all his house, 
 and chief over all the land of Egypt." And 
 when his brethren were alarmed after the 
 death of his father, he removed their suspicions 
 and terror by saying : " Fear not : Can ye 
 resist the will of God ? You imagined evil 
 against me but God turned it into good, that 
 He might exalt me, as ye see at the present 
 time, that He might save much people." 2 And 
 that this was brought about providentially the 
 blessed David likewise declared saying in the 
 hundred and fourth Psalm : " Anof He called 
 for a dearth upon the land : and brake all the 
 staff of bread. He sent a man before them : 
 Joseph was sold for a slave." 3 These two 
 then ; viz., the grace of God and free will seem 
 opposed to each other, but really are in har- 
 mony, and we gather from the system of good- 
 ness that we ought to have both alike, lest if 
 we withdraw one of them from man, we may 
 seem to have broken the rule of the Church's 
 
 faith : for when God sees us inclined to will 
 what is good, He meets, guides, and strength- 
 ens us : for " At the voice of thy cry, as soon as 
 He shall hear, He will answer thee ; " and : 
 " Call upon Me," He says, " in the day of tri- 
 bulation and I will deliver thee, and thou shalt 
 glorify Me." 4 And again, if He finds that we 
 are unwilling or have grown cold, He stirs our 
 hearts with salutary exhortations, by which a 
 good will is either renewed or formed in us. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 That a good will should not always be attributed to grace, nor 
 always to man himself. 
 
 For we should not hold that God made man 
 such that he can never will or be capable of 
 what is good : or else He has not granted him 
 a free will, if He has suffered him only to will 
 or be capable of evil, but neither to will or be 
 capable of what is good of himself. And, in 
 this case how will that first statement of the 
 Lord made about men after the fall stand : 
 " Behold, Adam is become as one of us, know- 
 ing good and evil ? " 5 For we cannot think 
 that before, he was such as to be altogether 
 ignorant of good. Otherwise we should have 
 to admit that he was formed like some ir- 
 rational and insensate beast : which is suffi- 
 ciently absurd and altogether alien from the 
 Catholic faith. Moreover as the wisest Solo- 
 mon says : " God made man upright," i.e., al- 
 ways to enjoy the knowledge of good only, 
 " But they have sought out 'many imagina- 
 tions," 6 for they came, as has been said, to know 
 good and evil. Adam therefore after the fall 
 conceived a knowledge of evil which he had not 
 previously, but did not lose the knowledge of 
 good which he had before. Finally the Apos- 
 tle's words very clearly show that mankind did 
 not lose after the fall of Adam the knowledge 
 of good : as he says : " For when the Gentiles, 
 which have not the law, do by nature the 
 things of the law, these, though they have not 
 the law, are a law to themselves, as they show 
 the work of the law written in their hearts, 
 their conscience bearing witness to these, and 
 their thoughts within them either accusing or 
 else excusing them, in the day in which God 
 shall judge the secrets of men." 7 And with 
 the same meaning the Lord rebukes by the 
 prophet the unnatural but freely chosen blind- 
 ness of the Jews, which they by their obstinacy 
 brought upon themselves, saying : " Hear ye 
 deaf, and ye blind, behold that you may see. 
 
 1 Ps. lxvii. (lxviii.) 29; lxxxix. (xc.) 17. 
 
 2 Gen. xlv. 5-8 ; 1. 19, 20. 3 Ps. civ. (cv). 16, 17. 
 
 4 Is. xxx. 19; Ps. xlix. (1.) 15. 
 
 5 Gen. iii. 22. 
 
 6 Eccl. vii. 29 (LXX.). 
 " Rom. ii. 14-16. 
 
THE THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH/EREMON. 
 
 429 
 
 Who is deaf but My servant ? and blind, but 
 he to whom I have sent My messengers ? " J 
 And that no one might ascribe this blindness of 
 theirs to nature instead of to their own will, 
 elsewhere He says : " Bring forth the people 
 that are blind and have eyes : that are deaf 
 and have ears ;" and again : "having eyes, but 
 ye see not ; and ears, but ye hear not." ' 2 The 
 Lord also says in the gospel : " Because seeing 
 they see not, and hearing they hear not neither 
 do they understand." 8 And in them is fulfilled 
 the prophecy of Isaiah which says : " Hearing 
 ye shall hear and shall not understand : and 
 seeing ye shall see and shall not see. For the 
 heart of this people is waxed fat, and their ears 
 are dull of hearing : and they have closed their 
 eyes, lest they should see with their eyes and hear 
 with their ears and understand with their heart, 
 and be turned and I should heal them." 4 Finally 
 in order to denote that the possibility of good 
 was in them, in chiding the Pharisees, He 
 says : " But why of your own selves do ye not 
 judge what is right ? " 5 And this he certainly 
 would not have said to them, unless He knew 
 that by their natural judgment they could dis- 
 cern what was fair. Wherefore we must take 
 care not to refer all the merits of the saints to 
 the Lord in such a way as to ascribe nothing 
 but what is evil and perverse to human nature : 
 in doing which we are confuted by the evi- 
 dence of the most wise Solomon, or rather of 
 the Lord Himself, Whose words these are ; for 
 when the building of the Temple was finished 
 and he was praying, he spoke as follows : " And 
 David my father would have built a house to 
 the name of the Lord God of Israel : and the 
 Lord said to David my father : Wh6reas thou 
 hast thought in thine heart to build a house to 
 My name, thou hast well done in having this 
 same thing in thy mind. Nevertheless thou 
 shalt not build a house to My name." 6 This 
 thought then and this purpose of king David, 
 are we to call it good and from God or bad and 
 from man ? For if that thought was good and 
 from God, why did He by whom it was inspired 
 refuse that it should be carried into effect ? But 
 if it is bad and from man, why is it praised by 
 the Lord ? It remains then that we must take 
 it as good and from man. And in the same 
 way we can take our own thoughts today. For 
 it was not given only to David to think what 
 is good of himself, nor is it denied to us natu- 
 rally to think or imagine anything that is good. 
 It cannot then be doubted that there are by 
 nature some seeds of goodness in every soul 
 implanted by the kindness of the Creator : 
 but unless these are quickened by the assis- 
 
 1 Is. xlii. 18, 19. 3 S. Matt. xiii. 13. 5 S. Luke xii. 57. 
 
 1 Is. xliii. 8; Jer. v. 21. 4 Is. vi. 9, 10. c 1 Kings viii. 17-19. 
 
 tance of God, they will not be able to attain 
 to an increase of perfection, for, as the blessed 
 Apostle says : " Neither is he that planteth 
 anything nor he that watereth, but God that 
 giveth the increase." 7 But that freedom of 
 the will is to some degree in a man's own 
 power is very clearly taught in the book 
 termed the Pastor, 8 where two angels are said 
 to be attached to each one of us, i.e., a good 
 and a bad one, while it lies at a man's own 
 option to choose which to follow. And there- 
 fore the will always remains free in man, and 
 can either neglect or delight in the grace of 
 God. For the Apostle would not have com- 
 manded saying : " Work out your own salvation 
 with fear and trembling," had he not known 
 that it could be advanced or neglected by us. 
 But that men might not fancy that they had 
 no need of Divine aid for the work of Salva- 
 tion, he subjoins : " For it is God that worketh 
 in you both to will and to do, of His good 
 pleasure." 9 And therefore he warns Timothy 
 and says : " Neglect not the grace of God 
 which is in thee ; " and again : " For which cause 
 I exhort thee to stir up the grace of God 
 which is in thee " 10 Hence also in writing to 
 the Corinthians he exhorts and warns them 
 not through their unfruitful works to show 
 themselves unworthy of the grace of God, say- 
 ing : " And we helping, exhort you that ye 
 receive not the grace of God in vain : " n for 
 the reception of saving grace was of no profit 
 to Simon doubtless because he had received 
 it in vain ; for he would not obey the com- 
 mand of the blessed Peter who said : " Repent 
 of thine iniquity, and pray God if haply the 
 thoughts of thine heart may be forgiven thee ; 
 for I perceive that thou art in the gall of bitter- 
 ness and the bonds of iniquity." 12 It prevents 
 therefore the will of man, for it is said : " My 
 God will prevent me with His mercy ; " 1S and 
 again when God waits and for our good de- 
 lays, that He may put our desires to the test, 
 our will precedes, for it is said : "And in the 
 morning my prayer shall prevent Thee ;" and 
 again : " I prevented the dawning of the day 
 and cried ; " and : " Mine eyes have prevented 
 the morning." li For He calls and invites us, 
 when He says : " All the day long I stretched 
 forth My hands to a disobedient and gainsay- 
 ing people ; " 15 and He is invited by us when we 
 say to Him : " All the day long I have stretched 
 forth My hands unto Thee " 16 He waits for us, 
 when it is said by the prophet : " Wherefore 
 the Lord waiteth to have compassion upon 
 
 7 1 Cor. iii. 7. 10 1 Tim. iv. 14; 2 Tim. i. 6. 
 
 8 Cf. Conf. VIII. c. xvii. n 2 Cor. vi. 1. 
 
 Phil. ii. 12; 13. 12 Acts viii. 22, 23. 
 
 13 Ps. lviii. (Hx.) 11. 
 
 14 Ps. lxxxvii. (lxxxviii.) 14; cxviii. (cxix.) 147, 148. 
 
 15 Rom. x. 21. 10 Ps. lxxxvii. (lxxxviii.) 10. 
 
43Q 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 us ; " l and He is waited for by us, when we 
 say : " I waited patiently for the Lord, and He 
 inclined unto me ; " and : " I have waited for thy 
 salvation, Lord." ' 2 He strengthens us when 
 He says : " And I have chastised them, and 
 strengthened their arms ; and they have ima- 
 gined evil against me ; " 3 and He exhorts 
 us to strengthen ourselves when He says : 
 " Strengthen ye the weak hands, and make 
 strong the feeble knees. " 4 Jesus cries : " If 
 any man thirst let him come unto Me and 
 drink ; " 6 the prophet also cries to Him : " I 
 have laboured with crying, my jaws are become 
 hoarse : mine eyes have failed, whilst I hope 
 in my God. " 6 The Lord seeks us, when He 
 says : " I sought and there was no man. I 
 called, and there was none to answer ; " 7 and 
 He Himself is sought by the bride who mourns 
 with tears : " I sought on my bed by night 
 Him whom my soul loved : I sought Him and 
 found Him not ; I called Him, and He gave me 
 no answer." 8 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 How human efforts cannot be set against the grace of God. 
 
 And so the grace of God always co-oper- 
 ates with our will for its advantage, and in all 
 things assists, protects, and defends it, in such 
 a way as sometimes even to require and look 
 for some efforts of good will from it that it 
 may not appear to confer its gifts on one who 
 is asleep or relaxed in sluggish ease, as it 
 seeks opportunities to show that as the torpor 
 of man's sluggishness is shaken off its bounty 
 is not unreasonable, when it bestows it on ac- 
 count of some desire and efforts to gain it. 
 And none the less does God's grace continue 
 to be free grace while in return for some small 
 and trivial efforts it bestows with priceless 
 bounty such glory of immortality, and such 
 gifts of eternal bliss. For because the faith 
 of the thief on the cross came as the first 
 thing, no one would say that therefore the 
 blessed abode of Paradise was not promised 
 to him as a free gift, nor could we hold that 
 it was the penitence of King David's single 
 word which he uttered : " I have sinned against 
 the Lord," and not rather the mercy of God 
 which removed those two grievous sins of his, 
 so that it was vouchsafed to him to hear from 
 the prophet Nathan : " The Lord also hath put 
 away thine iniquity : thou shalt not die." 9 
 The fact then that he added murder to adul- 
 
 i Is. xxx. 18. 
 
 2 Ps. xxxix. (xl.) 2 ; cxviii. (cxix.) 166. 
 
 3 Hosea vii. 15. 
 
 4 Is. xxxv. 3. 
 
 S. John vii. 37. 
 
 G Ps. lxviii. (lxix.) 4. 
 
 7 Cant. v. 6. 
 
 8 Cant. iii. 1. 
 
 9 2 Sam. xii. 13. 
 
 tery, was certainly due to free will : but that 
 he was reproved by the prophet, this was the 
 grace of Divine Compassion. Again it was 
 his own doing that he was humbled and ac- 
 knowledged his guilt ; but that in a very short 
 interval of time he was granted pardon for 
 such sins, this was the gift of the merciful 
 Lord. And what shall we say of this brief 
 confession and of the incomparable infinity of 
 Divine reward, when it is easy to see what the 
 blessed Apostle, as he fixes his gaze on the 
 greatness of future remuneration, announced 
 on those countless persecutions of his ? " for," 
 says he, " our light affliction which is but for a 
 moment worketh in us a far more exceeding 
 and eternal weight of glory," 10 of which else- 
 where he constantly affirms, saying that " the 
 sufferings of this present time are not worthy 
 to be compared with the future glory which 
 shall be revealed in us." u However much 
 then human weakness may strive, it cannot 
 come up to the future reward, nor by its efforts 
 so take off from Divine grace that it should 
 not always remain a free gift. And therefore 
 the aforesaid teacher of the Gentiles, though 
 he bears his witness that he had obtained the 
 grade of the Apostolate by the grace of God, 
 saying : " By the grace of God I am what I 
 am," yet also declares that he himself had cor- 
 responded to Divine Grace, where he says : 
 " And Plis Grace in me was not in vain ; but I 
 laboured more abundantly than they all : and 
 yet not I, but the Grace of God with me." 12 
 For when he says : "I laboured," he shows 
 the effort of his own will; when he says : "yet 
 Ttot I, but the grace of God," he points out the 
 value of Divine protection ; when he says : 
 " with me," he affirms that it co-operates with 
 him when he was not idle or careless, but 
 working and making an effort. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 How God makes trial of the strength of man's will by means 
 of his temptations. 
 
 And this too we read that the Divine right- 
 eousness provided for in the case of Job His 
 well tried athlete, when the devil had challenged 
 him to single combat. For if he had advanced 
 against his foe, not with his own strength, but 
 solely with the protection of God's .grace ; 
 and, supported only by Divine aid without any 
 virtue of patience on his own part, had borne 
 that manifold weight of temptations and losses, 
 contrived with all the cruelty of his foe, how 
 would the devil have repeated with some justice 
 
 10 2 Cor. iv. 17. 
 
 11 Rom. viii. 18. 
 
 12 1 Cor. xv. 10. 
 
THE THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH^EREMON. 
 
 431 
 
 that slanderous speech which he had previously 
 uttered : " Doth Job serve God for nought ? 
 Hast Thou not hedged him in, and all his 
 substance round about ? but take away thine 
 hand," i.e., allow him to fight with me in his own 
 strength, "and he will curse Thee to Thy face." 1 
 But as after the struggle the slanderous foe 
 dare not give vent to any such murmur as this, 
 he admitted that he was vanquished by his 
 strength and not by that of God ; although too 
 we must not hold that the grace of God was 
 altogether wanting to him, which gave to the 
 tempter a power of tempting in proportion 
 to that which it knew that he had of resist- 
 ing, without protecting him from his attacks in 
 such a way as to leave no room for human vir- 
 tue, but only providing for this ; viz., that the 
 most fierce foe should not drive him out of his 
 mind and overwhelm him when weakened, with 
 unequal thoughts and in an unfair contest. 
 But that the Lord is sometimes wont to tempt 
 our faith that it maybe made stronger and more 
 glorious, we are taught by the example of the 
 centurion in the gospel, in whose case though 
 the Lord knew that He would cure his servant 
 by the power of His word, yet He chose to offer 
 His bodily presence, saying : " I will come and 
 heal him : " but when the centurion overcame 
 this offer of His by the ardour of still more 
 fervent faith, and said : " Lord, I am not worthy 
 that Thou shouldest come under my roof : but 
 speak the word only and my servant shall be 
 healed," the Lord marvelled at him and praised 
 him, and put him before all those of the people 
 of Israel who had believed, saying : " Verily, I 
 say unto you, I have not found so great faith in 
 Israel." 2 For there would have been no ground 
 for praise or merit, if Christ had only preferred 
 in him what He Himself had given. And this 
 searching trial of faith we read that the Divine 
 righteousness brought about also in the case 
 of the grandest of the patriarchs ; where it is 
 said : " And it came to pass after these things 
 that God did tempt Abraham." 3 For the Di- 
 vine righteousness wished to try not that faith 
 with which the Lord had inspired him, but that 
 which when called and enlightened by the Lord 
 he could show forth by his own free will. 
 Wherefore the firmness of his faith was not 
 without reason proved, and when the grace of 
 God, which had for a while left him to prove 
 him, came to his aid, it was said : " Lay not 
 thine hand on the lad, and do nothing unto 
 him : for now I know that thou fearest the Lord, 
 and for my sake hast not spared thy beloved 
 son." 4 And that this kind of temptation can 
 befall us, for the sake of proving us, is suffi- 
 
 1 Job i. g— n. 
 
 2 S. Matt. viii. 7-10. 
 
 3 Gen. xxii. 
 
 4 lb. ver. 12. 
 
 ciently clearly foretold by the giver of the Law 
 in Deuteronomy : " If there rise in the midst 
 of you a prophet or one that saith he hath seen 
 a dream, and foretell a sign and wonder ; and 
 that come to pass which he spoke, and he say 
 to thee : Let us go and serve strange gods 
 which ye know not, thou shalt not hear the 
 words of that prophet or dreamer; for the Lord 
 your God surely trieth thee, whether thou lovest 
 Him with all thine heart, and keepest His Com- 
 mandments, or no." 5 What then follows ? 
 When God has permitted that prophet or 
 dreamer to arise, must we hold that He will 
 protect those whose faith He is purposing to 
 try, in such a way as to leave no place for their 
 own free will, where they can fight with the 
 tempter with their own strength ? And why is 
 it necessary for them even to be tried if He 
 knows them to be so weak and feeble as not to 
 be able by their own power to resist the tempter ? 
 But certainly the Divine righteousness would 
 not have permitted them to be tempted, unless 
 it knew that there was within them an equal 
 power of resistance, by which they could by an 
 equitable judgment be found in either result 
 either guilty or worthy of praise. To the same 
 effect also is this which the Apostle says : 
 " Therefore let him that thinketh he stand- 
 eth, take heed lest he fall. There hath no 
 temptation taken you but such as is com- 
 mon to man. But God is faithful, who will 
 not suffer you to be tempted above that ye 
 are able, but will with the temptation make 
 also a way of escape that ye may be able to 
 bear it." 6 For when he says "Let him that 
 standeth take heed lest he fall " he sets free 
 will on its guard, as he certainly knew that, 
 after grace had been received, it could either 
 stand by its exertions or fall through careless- 
 ness. But when he adds : " there hath no 
 temptation taken you but what is common to 
 man " he chides their weakness and the frailty 
 of their heart that is not yet strengthened, 
 as they could not yet resist the attacks 
 of the hosts of spiritual wickedness, against 
 which he knew that he and those who were 
 perfect daily fought ; of which also he says to 
 the Ephesians : " For we wrestle not against 
 flesh and blood, but against principalities, 
 against powers, against the world-rulers of 
 this darkness, against spiritual wickedness in 
 heavenly places." 7 But when he subjoins : 
 " But God is faithful who will not suffer you to 
 be tempted above that ye are able," he certainly 
 is not hoping that the Lord will not suffer 
 them to be tempted, but that they may not be 
 tempted above what they are able to bear. 
 For the one shows the power of man's will, 
 
 Deut. xiii. 1-3. 
 
 1 Cor. x. 12, '13. 
 
 7 Epli. vi. 12. 
 
432 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 the other denotes the grace of the Lord who 
 moderates the violence of temptations. In all 
 these phrases then there is proof that Divine 
 grace ever stirs up the will of man, not so as 
 to protect and defend it in all things in such 
 a way as to cause it not to fight by its own 
 efforts against its spiritual adversaries, the 
 victor over whom may set it down to God's 
 grace, and the vanquished to his own weak- 
 ness, and thus learn that his hope is always 
 not in his own courage but in the Divine 
 assistance, and that he must ever fly to his 
 Protector. And to prove this not by our own 
 conjecture but by still clearer passages of Holy 
 Scripture let us consider what we read in 
 Joshuah the son of Nun : " The Lord," it says, 
 " left these nations and would not destroythem, 
 that by them He might try Israel, whether they 
 would keep the commandments of the Lord 
 their God, and that they might learn to fight with 
 their enemies." x And if we may illustrate the 
 incomparable mercy of our Creator from some- 
 thing earthly, not as being equal in kindness, 
 but as an illustration of mercy : if a tender and 
 anxious nurse carries an infant in her bosom 
 for a long time in order sometime to teach it 
 to walk, and first allows it to crawl, then sup- 
 ports it that by the aid of her right hand it 
 may lean on its alternate steps, presently 
 leaves it for a little and if she sees it tottering 
 at all, catches hold of it, and grabs at it when 
 falling, when down picks it up, and either 
 shields it from a fall, or allows it to fall lightly, 
 and sets it up again after a tumble, but when 
 she has brought it up to boyhood or the 
 strength of youth or early manhood, lays upon 
 it some burdens or labours by which it may 
 be not overwhelmed but exercised, and allows 
 it to vie with those of its own age ; how much 
 more does the heavenly Father of all know 
 whom to carry in the bosom of His grace, 
 whom to train to virtue in His sight by the 
 exercise of free will, and yet He helps him in 
 his efforts, hears him when he calls, leaves 
 him not when he seeks Him, and sometimes 
 snatches him from peril even without his 
 knowing it. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Of the manifold grace of men's calls. 
 
 And by this it is clearly shown that God's 
 "judgments are inscrutable and His ways past 
 finding out," 2 by which He draws mankind to 
 salvation. And this too we can prove by the 
 instances of calls in the gospels. For He 
 chose Andrew and Peter and the rest of the 
 
 1 Judg. iii. i, 2 ; ii. 22. 
 
 2 Rom. xi. 33. 
 
 apostles by the free compassion of His grace 
 when they were thinking nothing of their heal- 
 ing and salvation. Zacchseus, when in his 
 faithfulness he was struggling to see the Lord, 
 and making up for his littleness of stature by 
 the height of the sycamore tree, He not only 
 received, but actually honoured by the bles- 
 sing of His dwelling with him. Paul even 
 against his will and resisting He drew to Him. 
 Another He charged to cleave to Him so 
 closely that when he asked for the shortest 
 possible delay in order to bury his father He 
 did not grant it. To Cornelius when con- 
 stantly attending to prayers and alms the way 
 of salvation was shown by way of recompense, 
 and by the visitation of an angel he was bid- 
 den to summon Peter, and learn from him 
 the words of salvation, whereby he might be 
 saved with all his. And so the manifold wis- 
 dom of God grants with manifold and inscru- 
 table kindness salvation to men ; and imparts 
 to each one according to his capacity the 
 grace of His bounty, so that He wills to grant 
 His healing not according to the uniform power 
 of His Majesty but according to the measure 
 of the faith in which He finds each one, or as 
 He Himself has imparted it to each one. For 
 when one believed that for the cure of his lep- 
 rosy the will of Christ alone was sufficient He 
 healed him by the simple consent of His will, 
 saying : " I will, be thou clean." 3 When an- 
 other prayed that He would come and raise 
 his dead daughter by laying His hands on her, 
 He entered his house as he had hoped, and 
 granted what was asked of Him. When another 
 believed that what was essential for his salva- 
 tion depended on His command, and answered : 
 " Speak the word only, and my servant shall 
 be healed," 4 He restored to their former 
 strength the limbs that were relaxed, by the 
 power of a word, saying : " Go thy way, and as 
 thou hast believed so be it unto thee." 5 To 
 others hoping for restoration from the touch 
 of His hem, He granted rich gifts of healing. 
 To some, when asked, He bestowed remedies 
 for their diseases. To others He afforded 
 the means of healing unasked : others He 
 urged on to hope, saying : " Wiliest thou to be 
 made whole ? " 6 to others when they were 
 without hope He brought help spontaneously. 
 The desires of some He searched out before 
 satisfying their wants, saying : " What will ye 
 that I should do for you ? " 7 To another who 
 knew not the way to obtain what he desired, 
 He showed it in His kindness, saying : " If 
 thou believe st thou shalt see the glory of 
 God." 8 Among some so richly did He pour 
 
 3 S. Matt. viii. 3. 
 * lb. ver. 8. 
 
 5 lb. ver. 13. 
 
 6 S. John v. 6. 
 
 7 S. Matt. xx. 32. 
 
 8 S. John xi. 40. 
 
THE THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CH^REMON. 
 
 433 
 
 forth the mighty works of His cures that of 
 them the Evangelist says : " And He healed 
 all their sick." 1 But among others the un- 
 fathomable depth of Christ's beneficence was 
 so stopped up, that it was said : " And Jesus 
 could do there no mighty works because of 
 their unbelief." 2 And so the bounty of God 
 is actually shaped according to the capacity of 
 man's faith, so that to one it is said : " Accor- 
 ding to thy faith be it unto thee : " 3 and to 
 another : " Go thy way, and as thou hast be- 
 lieved so be it unto thee ; " 4 to another " Be it 
 unto thee according as thou wilt," 5 and again to 
 another : " Thy faith hath made thee whole." 6 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Of the grace of God; to the effect that it transcends the 
 narrow limits of human faith. 
 
 But let no one imagine that we have brought 
 forward these instances to try to make out 
 that the chief share in our salvation rests with 
 our faith, according to the profane notion of 
 some who attribute everything to free will and 
 lay down that the grace of God is dispensed 
 in accordance with the desert of each man : 
 but we plainly assert our unconditional opinion 
 that the grace of God is superabounding, and 
 sometimes overflows the narrow limits of man's 
 lack of faith. And this, as we remember, 
 happened in the case of the ruler in the gospel, 
 who, as he believed that it was an easier thing 
 for his son to be cured when sick than to be 
 raised when dead, implored the Lord to come 
 at once, saying : " Lord, come down ere my 
 child die ; " and though Christ reproved his 
 lack of faith with these words : " Except ye see 
 signs and wonders ye will not believe," yet He 
 did not manifest the grace of His Divinity in 
 proportion to the weakness of his faith, nor 
 did He expell the deadly disease of the fever 
 by His bodily presence, as the man believed he 
 would, but by the word of His power, saying : 
 "Go thy way, thy son liveth." 7 And we read also 
 that the Lord poured forth this superabundance 
 of grace in the case of the cure of the paralytic, 
 when, though he only asked for the healing of 
 the weakness by which his body was enervated, 
 He first brought health to the soul by saying : 
 "Son, be of good cheer, thy sins be forgiven 
 thee." After which, when the scribes did not 
 believe that He could forgive men's sins, in order 
 to confound their incredulity, He set free by 
 the power of His word the man's limb, and put 
 an end to his disease of paralysis, by saying : 
 
 1 S. Matt. xiv. 14. 
 
 2 S. Mark vi. 5, 6. 
 
 3 S. Matt. ix. 29. 
 
 4 S. Matt. viii. 13. 
 c S. Matt. xv. 28. 
 
 6 S. Luke xviii. 42. 
 
 7 S. John iv. 4S-50. 
 
 " Why think ye evil in your hearts ? Whether 
 is easier to say, thy sins be forgiven thee, or 
 to say, arise and walk ? But that ye may know 
 that the Son of man hath power on earth 
 to forgive sins, then saith He to the sick of 
 the palsy : Arise, take up thy bed, and go unto 
 thine house." 8 And in the same way in the 
 case of the man who had been lying for thirty- 
 eight years near the edge of the pool, and hop- 
 ing for a cure from the moving of the water, He 
 showed the princely character of His bounty 
 unasked. For when in His wish to arouse 
 him for the saving remedy, He had said to 
 him : " wiliest thou to be made whole," and 
 when the man complained of his lack of 
 human assistance and said : " I have no man 
 to put me into the pool when the water is 
 troubled," the Lord in His pity granted pardon 
 to his unbelief and ignorance, and restored 
 him to his former health, not in the way which 
 he expected, but in the way which He Him- 
 self willed, saying : " Arise, take up thy bed 
 and go unto thine house." 9 And what won- 
 der if these acts are told of the Lord's power, 
 when Divine grace has actually wrought simi- 
 lar works by means of His servants ! For 
 when Peter and John were entering the temple, 
 when the man who was lame from his mother's 
 womb and had no idea how to walk, asked an 
 alms, they gave him not the miserable coppers 
 which the sick man asked for, but the power 
 to walk, and when he was only expecting the 
 smallest of gifts to console him, enriched him 
 with the prize of unlooked for health, as 
 Peter said : " Silver and gold have I none : 
 but such as I have, give I unto thee. In the 
 name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and 
 walk." 1G 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Of the inscrutable providence of God. 
 
 By those instances then which we have 
 brought forward from the gospel records we 
 can very clearly perceive that God brings 
 salvation to mankind in diverse and innumer- 
 able methods and inscrutable ways, and that 
 He stirs up the course of some, who are already 
 wanting it, and thirsting for it, to greater zeal, 
 while He forces some even against their will, 
 and resisting. And that at one time He gives 
 his assistance for the fulfilment of those things 
 which he sees that we desire for our good, 
 while at another time He puts into us the very 
 beginnings of holy desire, and grants both the 
 commencement of a good work and perse- 
 verance in it. Hence it comes that in our 
 
 8 S. Matt. ix. 2-6. 
 
 9 S. John v. 6-8. 
 
 10 Acts iii. 6. 
 
434 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 prayers we proclaim God as not only our Pro- 
 tector and Saviour, but actually as our Helper 
 and Sponsor. For whereas He first calls us 
 to Him, and while we are still ignorant and 
 unwilling, draws us towards salvation, He is 
 our Protector and Saviour, but whereas when 
 we are already striving, He is wont to bring 
 us help, and to receive and defend those who 
 fly to Him for refuge, He is termed our Spon- 
 sor and Refuge. Finally the blessed Apostle 
 when revolving in his mind this manifold 
 bounty of God's providence, as he sees that 
 he has fallen into some vast and boundless 
 ocean of God's goodness, exclaims: "O the 
 depth of the riches of the wisdom and know- 
 ledge of God ! How inscrutable are the judg- 
 ments of God and His ways past finding out ! 
 For who hath known the mind of the Lord ? " 1 
 Whoever then imagines that he can by hu- 
 man reason fathom the depths of that incon- 
 ceivable abyss, will be trying to explain away 
 the astonishment at that knowledge, at which 
 that great and mighty teacher of the gentiles 
 was awed. For if a man thinks that he can 
 either conceive in his mind or discuss ex- 
 haustively the dispensation of God whereby 
 He works salvation in men, he certainly im- 
 pugns the truth of the Apostle's words and 
 asserts with profane audacity that His judg- 
 ments can be scrutinized, and His ways searched 
 out. This providence and love of God there- 
 fore, which the Lord in His unwearied good- 
 ness vouchsafes to show us, He compares to 
 the tenderest heart of a kind mother, as He 
 wishes to express it by a figure of human 
 affection, and finds in His creatures no such 
 feeling of love, to which he could better com- 
 pare it. And He uses this example, because 
 nothing dearer can be found in human nature, 
 saying : " Can a mother forget her child, that 
 she should not have compassion on the son 
 of her womb ? " But not content with this 
 comparison He at once goes beyond it, and 
 subjoins these words : " And though she may 
 forget, yet will not I forget thee." 2 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 The decision of the fathers that free will is not equal to save 
 a man. 
 
 And from this it is clearly gathered by 
 those who, led not by chattering words but 
 by experience, measure the magnitude of grace, 
 and the paltry limits of man's will, that " the 
 race is not to the swift nor the battle to the 
 strong, nor food to the wise, nor riches to 
 
 1 Rom. xi. 33, 34. 
 
 2 Is. xlix. 15. 
 
 the prudent, nor grace to the learned," but 
 that " all these worketh that one and the self- 
 same Spirit, dividing to every man severally 
 as He will." 3 And therefore it is proved by 
 no doubtful faith but by experience which 
 can (so to speak) be laid hold of, that God the 
 Father of all things worketh indifferently all 
 things in all, as the Apostle says, like some 
 most kind father and most benign physician ; 
 and that now He puts into us the very begin- 
 nings of salvation, and gives to each the zeal 
 of his free will ; and now grants the carrying 
 out of the work, and the perfecting of good- 
 ness ; and now saves men, even against their 
 will and without their knowledge, from ruin 
 that is close at hand, and a headlong fall ; and 
 now affords them occasions and opportunities 
 of salvation, and wards off headlong and 
 violent attacks from purposes that would bring 
 death ; and assists some who are already wil- 
 ling and running, while He draws others who 
 are unwilling and resisting, and forces them 
 to a good will. But that, when we do not 
 always resist or remain persistently unwilling, 
 everything is granted to us by God, and that 
 the main share in our salvation is to be as- 
 cribed not to the merit of our own works but 
 to heavenly grace, we are thus taught by the 
 words of the Lord Himself : " And you shall 
 remember your ways and all your wicked 
 doings with which you have been defiled ; and 
 you shall be displeased with yourselves in your 
 own sight for all your wicked deeds which you 
 have committed. And you shall know that I 
 am the Lord, when I shall have done well by 
 you for My own name's sake, not according 
 to your evil ways, nor according to your wicked 
 deeds, O house of Israel." 4 And therefore it 
 is laid down by all the Catholic fathers who 
 have taught perfection of heart not by empty 
 disputes of words, but in deed and act, that 
 the first stage in the Divine gift is for each 
 man to be inflamed with the desire of every- 
 thing that is good, but in such a way that the 
 choice of free will is open to either side : and 
 that the second stage in Divine grace is for 
 the aforesaid practices of virtue to be able 
 to be performed, but in such a way that the 
 possibilities of the will are not destroyed : 
 the third stage also belongs to the gifts of 
 God, so that it may be held by the persistence 
 of the goodness already acquired, and in such 
 a way that the liberty may not be surrendered 
 and experience bondage. For the God of all 
 must be held to work in all, so as to incite, 
 protect, and strengthen, but not to take away 
 the freedom of the will which He Himself 
 has once given. If however any more subtle 
 
 3 Eccl. ix. 11 (LXX.); 1 Cor. xii. 11. 4 Ezek. xx. 43, 44- 
 
THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT NESTEROS. 
 
 435 
 
 inference of man's argumentation and reason- 
 ing seems opposed to this interpretation, it 
 should be avoided rather than brought for- 
 ward to the destruction of the faith (for we 
 gain not faith from understanding, but under- 
 standing from faith, as it is written : " Except 
 ye believe, ye will not understand " x ) for how 
 
 God works all things in us and yet everything 
 can be ascribed to free will, cannot be fully 
 grasped by the mind and reason of man. 
 
 Strengthened by this food the blessed 
 Chaeremon prevented us from feeling the toil 
 of so difficult a journey. 
 
 XIV. 
 THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT NESTEROS. 
 
 ON SPIRITUAL KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The words of Abbot Nesteros on the knowledge of the 
 religious. 
 
 The order of our promise and course de- 
 mands that there should follow the instruction 
 of Abbot Nesteros, 2 a man of excellence in all 
 points and of the greatest knowledge : who 
 when he had seen that we had committed some 
 parts of Holy Scripture to memory and desired 
 to understand them, addressed us in these 
 words. There are indeed many different kinds 
 of knowledge in this world, since there is as 
 great a variety of them as there is of the arts 
 and sciences. But, while all are either utterly 
 useless or only useful for the good of this pre- 
 sent life, there is yet none which has not its 
 own system and method for learning it, by 
 which it can be grasped by those who seek it. 
 If then those arts are guided by certain spe- 
 cial rules for their publication, how much more 
 does the system and expression of our religion, 
 which tends to the contemplation of the secrets 
 of invisible mysteries, and seeks no present 
 gain but the reward of an eternal recompense, 
 depend on a fixed order and scheme. And the 
 knowledge of this is twofold: first, nqaxxiK^ 
 i. e., practical, which is brought about by an 
 improvement of morals and purification from 
 faults : secondly, dewgyTtx^ which consists in 
 the contemplation of things Divine and the 
 knowledge of most sacred thoughts. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 On grasping the knowledge of spiritual things. 
 
 Whoever then would arrive at this theore- 
 tical knowledge must first pursue practical 
 
 1 Is. vii. 9. 
 
 2 Nesteros. In the Vitse Patrum there are some stories of one or 
 two of this name (for it is not quite clear whether they are distinct 
 
 knowledge with all his might and main. For 
 this practical knowledge can be acquired with- 
 out theoretical, but theoretical cannot possibly 
 be gained without practical. For there are 
 certain stages, so distinct, and arranged in 
 such a way that man's humility may be able to 
 mount on high ; and if these follow each other 
 in turn in the order of which we have spoken, 
 man can attain to a height to which he could 
 not fly, if the first step were wanting. In vain 
 then does one strive for the vision of God, who 
 does not shun the stains of sins : " For the 
 spirit of God hates deception, and dwells not 
 in a body subject to sins." 3 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 How practical perfection depends on a double system. 
 
 But this practical perfection depends on a 
 double system ; for its first method is to know 
 the nature of all faults and the manner of their 
 cure. Its second, to discover the order of the 
 virtues, and form our mind by their perfection 
 so that it may be obedient to them, not as if it 
 were forced and subject to some fierce sway, 
 but as if it delighted in its natural good, and 
 throve upon it, and mounted by that steep and 
 narrow way with real pleasure. For in what 
 way will one, who has neither succeeded in 
 understanding the nature of his own faults, nor 
 tried to eradicate them, be able to gain an un- 
 derstanding of virtues, which is the second 
 stage of practical training, or the mysteries of 
 spiritual and heavenly things, which exist in 
 the higher stage of theoretical knowledge ? 
 For it will necessarily be maintained that he 
 
 persons or one and the same to whom the stories refer). One was 
 known as 6 /^eyas, an( j w as a friend of St. Antony, and is sup- 
 posed by some to be the same whose Conferences Cassian here 
 relates, but nothing certain is known of him. 3 Wisdom i. 4, 5. 
 
43' 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 cannot advance to more lofty heights who has 
 not surmounted the lower ones, and much less 
 will he be able to grasp those things that are 
 without, who has not succeeded in understand- 
 ing what is within his comprehension. But 
 you should know that we must make an effort 
 with a twofold purpose in our exertion ; both 
 for the expulsion of vice, and for the attainment 
 of virtue. And this we do not gather from our 
 own conjecture, but are taught by the words 
 of Him who alone knows the strength and 
 method of His work : " Behold," He says : " I 
 have set thee this day over the nations and 
 over kingdoms, to root up, and to pull down, 
 and to waste, and to destroy, and to build, 
 and to plant. " * He points out that for 
 getting rid of noxious things four things are 
 requisite ; viz., to root up, to pull down, to 
 waste, and to destroy : but for the performance 
 of what is good, and the acquisition of what 
 pertains to righteousness only to build and to 
 plant. Whence it is perfectly evident that it 
 is a harder thing to tear up and eradicate the 
 inveterate passions of body and soul than to 
 introduce and plant spiritual virtues. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 How practical life is distributed among many different 
 professions and interests. 
 
 This practical life then, which as has been 
 said rests on a double system, is distributed 
 among many different professions and inter- 
 ests. For some make it their whole pur- 
 pose to aim at the secrecy of an anchorite, 
 and purity of heart, as we know that in the 
 past Elijah and Elisha, and in our own day 
 the blessed Antony and others who followed 
 with the same object, were joined most closely 
 to God by the silence of solitude. Some 
 have given all their efforts and interests towards 
 the system of the brethren and the watchful 
 care of the ccenobium ; as we remember that 
 recently Abbot John, who presided over a big 
 monastery in the neighbourhood of the city 
 Thmuis, 2 and some other men of like merits 
 were eminent with the signs of Apostles. 
 Some are pleased with the kindly service of 
 the guest house and reception, by which in 
 the past the patriarch Abraham and Lot 
 pleased the Lord, and recently the blessed 
 Macarius, 3 a man of singular courtesy and 
 
 1 Jer. i. 10. 
 
 2 It is doubtful whether this is the same John who was mentioned 
 in the Institutes V. xxviii. and to whom the xixth Conference is 
 assigned. Thmuis is the Coptic Thmoui, a little to the south of the 
 Mendesian branch of the Nile. See Rawlinson's note to Herod, ii. 
 c. 166 and cf. Ptolemy IV. v. § 51. 
 
 3 On the two Macarii see the note on the Institutes V. xli. 
 
 patience who presided over the guest house 
 at Alexandria in such away as to be considered 
 inferior to none of those who aimed at the 
 retirement of the desert. Some choose the 
 care of the sick, others devote themselves 
 to intercession, which is offered up for the 
 oppressed and afflicted, or give themselves up 
 to teaching, or give alms to the poor, and 
 flourish among men of excellence and renown, 
 by reason of their love and goodness. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 On perseverance in the line that has been chosen. 
 
 Wherefore it is good and profitable for 
 each one to endeavour with all his might and 
 main to attain perfection in the work that 
 has been begun, according to the line which 
 he has chosen as the grace which he has 
 received ; and while he praises and admires 
 the virtues of others, not to swerve from his 
 own line which he has once for all chosen, as 
 he knows that, as the Apostle says, the body 
 of the Church indeed is one, but the members 
 many, and that it has " gifts differing accord- 
 ing to the grace which is given us, whether 
 prophecy, according to the proportion of the 
 faith, whether ministry, in ministering, or he 
 that teacheth, in doctrine, or he that exhort- 
 eth in exhortation, he that giveth, in sim- 
 plicity, he that ruleth, with carefulness, he 
 that showeth mercy, with cheerfulness." 4 For 
 no members can claim the offices of other 
 members, because the eyes cannot perform 
 the duties of the hands, nor the nostrils of 
 the ears. And so not all are Apostles, not 
 all prophets, not all doctors, not all have the 
 gifts of healing, not all speak with tongues, not 
 all interpret. 5 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 How the weak are easily moved. 
 
 For those who are not yet settled in the line 
 which they have taken up are often, when they 
 hear some praised for different interests and 
 virtues, so excited by the praise of them that 
 they try forthwith to imitate their method : and 
 in this human weakness is sure to expend its 
 efforts to no purpose. For it is an impossibility 
 for one and the same man to excel at once in 
 all those good deeds which I enumerated above. 
 And if anyone is anxious equally to affect them 
 all, he is quite sure to come to this ; viz., that 
 while he pursues them all, he will not thoroughly 
 
 4 Rom. xii. 4-S. 
 
 5 Cf. 1 Cor. xii. 28 
 
THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT NESTEROS. 
 
 437 
 
 succeed in any one, and will lose more than he 
 will gain from this changing and shifting about. 
 For in many ways men advance towards God, 
 and so each man should complete that one 
 which he has once fixed upon, never chan- 
 ging the course of his purpose, so that he may 
 be perfect in whatever line of life his may be. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 An instance of chastity which teaches us that all men should 
 not be emulous of all things. 
 
 For apart from that loss, which we have said 
 that a monk incurs who wants in light-minded- 
 ness to pass from one pursuit to another, there 
 is a risk of death that is hence incurred, because 
 at times things which are rightly done by some 
 are wrongly taken by others as an example, 
 and things which turned out well for some, are 
 found to be injurious to others. For, to give 
 an instance, it is as if one wished to imitate 
 the good deed of that man, which Abbot John 
 is wont to bring forward, not for the sake of 
 imitating him but simply out of admiration for 
 him ; for one came to the aforesaid old man in 
 a secular dress and when he had brought him 
 some of the first fruits of his crops, he found 
 some one there possessed by a most fierce 
 devil. And this one though he scorned the 
 adjurations and commands of Abbot John, and 
 vowed that he would never at his bidding leave 
 the body which he had occupied, yet was terri- 
 fied at the coming of this other, and departed 
 with a most humble utterance of his name. 
 And the old man marvelled not a little at his 
 so evident grace and was the more astonished 
 at him because he saw that he had on a secular 
 dress ; and so began carefully to ask of him 
 the manner of his life and pursuit. And when 
 he said that he was living in the world and 
 bound by the ties of marriage, the blessed John, 
 considering in his mind the greatness of his 
 virtue and grace, searched out still more care- 
 fully what his manner of life might be. He 
 declared that he was a countryman, and that he 
 sought his food by the daily toil of his hands, 
 and was not conscious of anything good about 
 him except that he never went forth to his 
 work in the fields in the morning nor came 
 home in the evening without having returned 
 thanks in Church for the food of his daily life, 
 to God Who gave it ; and that he had never 
 used any of his crops without having first offered 
 to God their first fruits and tithes ; and that 
 he had never driven his oxen over the bounds 
 of another's harvest without having first muzzled 
 them that his neighbour might not sustain the 
 slightest loss through his carelessness. And 
 
 when these things did not seem to Abbot John 
 sufficient to procure such grace as that with 
 which he saw that he was endowed, and he 
 inquired of him and investigated what it was 
 which could be connected with the merits of 
 such grace, he was induced by respect for such 
 anxious inquiries to confess that, when he 
 wanted to be professed as a monk, he had been 
 compelled by force and his parents' command, 
 twelve years before to take a wife, who, with- 
 out any body to that day being aware of it, was 
 kept by him as a virgin in the place of a sister. 
 And when the old man heard this, he was so 
 overcome with admiration that he announced 
 publicly in his presence that it was not without 
 good reason that the devil who had scorned 
 him himself, could not endure the presence of 
 this man, whose virtue he himself, not only in 
 the ardour of youth, but even now, would not 
 dare to aim at without risk of his chastity. 
 And though Abbot John would tell this story 
 with the utmost admiration, yet he never ad- 
 vised any monk to try this plan as he knew 
 that many things which are rightly done by 
 some involved others who imitate them in great 
 danger, and that that cannot be tried by all, 
 which the Lord bestowed upon a few by a 
 special gift. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Of spiritual knowledge. 
 
 But to return to the explanation of the 
 knowledge from which our discourse took its 
 rise. Thus, as we said above, practical know- 
 ledge is distributed among many subjects and 
 interests, but theoretical is divided into two 
 parts, i.e., the historical interpretation and the 
 spiritual sense. Whence also Solomon when 
 he had summed up the manifold grace of the 
 Church, added: "for all who are with her are 
 clothed with double garments." 1 But of spiri- 
 tual knowledge there are three kinds, tropologi- 
 cal, allegorical, anagogical, 2 of which we read 
 as follows in Proverbs : " But do you describe 
 these things to yourself in three ways according 
 
 1 Prov. xxxi. 21 (LXX.). 
 
 2 The meaning of the four senses of Scripture here spoken of; 
 viz., the historical, tropological, allegorical, and anagogical, is well 
 summed up in these lines : 
 
 Litera, gesta docet ; quid credas, allegoria ; 
 
 Moralis, quid agas ; quo tendas anagogia. 
 Or, as the lines are sometimes given : 
 
 Litera scripta docet ; quod credas, allegoria ; 
 
 Quod speres, anagoge.: quid agas, tropologia. 
 Both Origen and Jerome had spoken of the threefold sense of 
 Scripture, referring to the LXX. rendering of Proverbs xxii. 20 
 (which Cassian quotes below): but in general the Latin Fathers, and 
 the Schoolmen after them, separated the third of Origen's senses : 
 viz., the spiritual, into two, the allegorical and the anagogical : and 
 so the " fourfold " sense became the established method of interpre- 
 tation in the West. 
 
433 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 to the largeness of your heart." * And so the 
 history embraces the knowledge of things past 
 and visible, as it is repeated in this way by the 
 Apostle : " For it is written that Abraham had 
 two sons, the one by a bondwoman, the other by 
 a free : but he who was of the bondwoman was 
 bom after the flesh, but he who was of the free 
 was by promise." But to the allegory belongs 
 what follows, for what actually happened is said 
 to have prefigured the form of some mystery : 
 " For these," says he, " are the two covenants, 
 the one from Mount Sinai, which gendereth 
 into bondage, which is Agar. For Sinai is a 
 mountain in Arabia, which is compared to Je- 
 rusalem which now is, and is in bondage with 
 her children." But the anagogical sense rises 
 from spiritual mysteries even to still more sub- 
 lime and sacred secrets of heaven, and is sub- 
 joined by the Apostle in these words : " But 
 Jerusalem which is above is free, which is the 
 mother of us. For it is written, Rejoice, thou 
 barren that bearest not, break forth and cry, 
 thou that travailest not, for many are the chil- 
 dren of the desolate more than of her that hath 
 an husband." 2 The tropological sense is the 
 moral explanation which has to do with im- 
 provement of life and practical teaching, as if 
 we were to understand by these two cove- 
 nants practical and theoretical instruction, or 
 at any rate as if we were to want to take Jeru- 
 salem or Sion as the soul of man, according to 
 this : " Praise the Lord, O Jerusalem : praise 
 thy God, O Sion." 8 And so these four pre- 
 viously mentioned figures coalesce, if we desire, 
 in one subject, so that one and the same Jeru- 
 salem can be taken in four senses : historically, 
 as the city of the Jews ; allegorically as the 
 Church of Christ, anagogically as the heavenly 
 city of God "which is the mother of us all," 
 tropologically, as the soul of man, which is 
 frequently subject to praise or blame from the 
 Lord under this title. Of these four kinds of 
 interpretation the blessed Apostle speaks as 
 follows : " But now, brethren, if I come to you 
 speaking with tongues what shall I profit you 
 unless I speak to you either by revelation or by 
 knowledge or by prophecy or by doctrine ? " 4 
 For "revelation " belongs to allegory whereby 
 what is concealed under the historical narra- 
 tive is revealed in its spiritual sense and inter- 
 pretation, as for instance if we tried to expound 
 how "all our fathers were under the cloud and 
 were all baptized unto Moses in the cloud and 
 in the sea," and how they "all ate the same 
 spiritual meat and drank the same spiritual 
 drink from the rock that followed them. But 
 the rock was Christ." 5 And this explanation 
 where there is a comparison of the figure of 
 
 i Prov. xxii. 20 (LXX.). 
 1 Gai. iv. 22-27. 
 
 3 P"s. cxlvii. 12. E 1 Cor. x. 1-4. 
 
 4 1 Cor. xiv. 6. 
 
 the body and blood of Christ which we receive 
 daily, contains the allegorical sense. But the 
 knowledge, which is in the same way men- 
 tioned by the Apostle, is tropological, as by it 
 we can by a careful study see of all things that 
 have to do with practical discernment whether 
 they are useful and good, as in this case, when 
 we are told to judge of our own selves " whether 
 it is fitting for a woman to pray to God with 
 her head uncovered." 6 And this system, as has 
 been said, contains the moral meaning. So 
 " prophecy " which the Apostle puts in the third 
 place, alludes to the anagogical sense by 
 which the words are applied to things future 
 and invisible, as here : " But we would not have 
 you ignorant, brethren, concerning those that 
 sleep : that ye be not sorry as others also who 
 have no hope. For if we believe that Christ 
 died and rose again, even so them also which 
 sleep in Jesus will God bring with Him. For 
 this we say to you by the word of God, that we 
 which are alive at the coming of the Lord shall 
 not prevent those that sleep in Christ, for the 
 Lord Himself shall descend from heaven with 
 a shout, with the voice of the archangel and 
 with the trump of God; and the dead in Christ 
 shall rise first." 7 In which kind of exhorta- 
 tion the figure of anagoge is brought forward. 
 But " doctrine " unfolds the simple course of 
 historical exposition, under which is contained 
 no more secret sense, but what is declared by 
 the very words : as in this passage : " For I 
 delivered unto you first of all what I also 
 received, how that Christ died for our sins 
 according to the Scriptures, and that He was 
 buried, and that He rose again on the third 
 day, and that he was seen of Cephas ; " 8 and : 
 " God sent His Son, made of a woman, made 
 under the law, to redeem them that were under 
 the law ; " 9 or this : " Hear, O Israel, the Lord 
 the God is one Lord." 10 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 How from practical knowledge we must proceed to spiritual. 
 
 Wherefore if you are anxious to attain to 
 the light of spiritual knowledge, not wrongly 
 for an idle boast but for the sake of being 
 made better men, you are first inflamed with 
 the longing for that blessedness, of which we 
 read : " blessed are the pure in heart for they 
 shall see God," u that you may also attain to 
 that of which the angel said to Daniel : " But 
 they that are learned shall shine as the splen- 
 dor of the firmament : and they that turn 
 many to righteousness as the stars for ever 
 
 Cor. xi. 13. 
 Tliess. iv. 12-15. 
 
 8 1 Cor. xv. 3-5. 
 
 9 Gal. iv. 4, 5. 
 
 10 Deut. vi. 4. 
 » S. Matt, v.: 
 
THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT NESTEROS. 
 
 439 
 
 and ever ; " and in another prophet : " Enlighten 
 yourselves with the light of knowledge while 
 there is time." 1 And so keeping up that dili- 
 gence in reading, which I see that you have, 
 endeavour with all eagerness to gain in the 
 first place a thorough grasp of practical, i.e., 
 ethical knowledge. For without this that the- 
 oretical purity of which we have spoken can- 
 not be obtained, which those only, who are 
 perfected not by the words of others who 
 teach them, but by the excellence of their own 
 actions, can after much expenditure of effort 
 and toil attain as a reward for it. For as they 
 gain their knowledge not from meditation on 
 the law but from the fruit of their labour, 
 they sing with the Psalmist : " From Thy com- 
 mandments I have understanding ; " and hav- 
 ing overcome all their passions, they say with 
 confidence : " I will sing, and I will understand 
 in the undefiled way." 2 For he who is striving 
 in an undefiled way in the course of a pure 
 heart, as he sings the Psalm, understands the 
 words which are chanted. And therefore if 
 you would prepare in your heart a holy taber- 
 nacle of spiritual knowledge, purge yourselves 
 from the stain of all sins, and rid yourselves 
 of the cares of this world. For it is an im- 
 possibility for the soul which is taken up even 
 to a small extent with worldly troubles, to 
 gain the gift of knowledge or to become an 
 author of spiritual interpretation, and diligent 
 in reading holy things. Be careful therefore 
 in the first place, and especially you, John, 
 as your more youthful age requires you the 
 rather to be careful about what I am going to 
 say — that you may enjoin absolute silence on 
 your lips, in order that your zeal for reading 
 and the efforts of your purpose may not be 
 destroyed by vain pride. For this is the first 
 practical step towards learning, to receive the 
 regulations and opinions of all the Elders with 
 an earnest heart, and with lips that are dumb ; 
 and diligently to lay them up in your heart, 
 and endeavour rather to perform than to teach 
 them. For from teaching, the dangerous ar- 
 rogance of vainglory, but from performing, 
 the fruit of spiritual knowledge will flour- 
 ish. And so you should never venture to say 
 anything in the conference of the Elders un- 
 less some ignorance that might be injurious, 
 or a matter which it is important to know leads 
 you to ask a question ; as some who are puffed 
 up with vainglory, pretend that they ask, in 
 order really to show off the knowledge which 
 they perfectly possess. For it is an impossi- 
 bility for one, who takes to the pursuit of 
 reading with the purpose of gaining the praise 
 of men, to be rewarded with the gift of true 
 
 1 Dan. xii. 3; Hos. x. 12. - Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 104; c. (ci.) i, 2. 
 
 knowledge. For one who is bound by the 
 chain of this passion, is sure to be also in 
 bondage to other faults, and especially to that 
 of pride : and so if he is baffled by his en- 
 counter with practical and ethical knowledge, 
 he will certainly not attain that spiritual know- 
 ledge which springs from it. Be then in all 
 things " swift to hear, but slow to speak," 3 
 lest there come upon you that which is noted 
 by Solomon : " If thou seest a man who is 
 quick to speak, know that there is more hope 
 of a fool than of him ; 4 and do not presume 
 to teach any one in words what you have not 
 already performed in deed. For our Lord 
 taught us by His own example that we ought 
 to keep to this order, as of Him it is said : 
 " what Jesus began to do and to teach." 5 Take 
 care then that you do not rush into teaching 
 before doing, and so be reckoned among the 
 number of those of whom the Lord speaks in 
 the gospel to the disciples : " What they say 
 unto you, that observe and do, but not after 
 their words : for they say and do not. But 
 they bind heavy burdens and grievous to be 
 borne, and lay them on men's shoulders ; but 
 they themselves will not move them with one 
 of their fingers." 6 For if he who shall "break 
 one of these commands, and shall teach men 
 so, shall be called least in the kingdom, of 
 heaven," 7 it follows that one who has dared to 
 despise many and greater commands and to 
 teach men so, shall certainly be considered 
 not least in the kingdom of heaven, but 
 greatest in the punishment of hell. And 
 therefore you must be careful not to be led on 
 to teach by the example of those who have 
 attained some skill in discussion and readi- 
 ness in speech and because they can discourse 
 on what they please elegantly and fully, are 
 imagined to possess spiritual knowledge, by 
 those who do not know how to distinguish its 
 real force and character. For it is one thing 
 to have a ready tongue and elegant language, 
 and quite another to penetrate into the very 
 heart and marrow of heavenly utterances and 
 to gaze with pure eye of the soul on profound 
 and hidden mysteries ; for this can be gained 
 by no learning of man's, nor condition of this 
 world, only by purity of soul, by means of the 
 illumination of the Holy Ghost. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 How to embrace the system of true knowledge. 
 
 You must then, if you want to get at the 
 true knowledge of the Scriptures, endeavour 
 
 3 S. James i. 19. 
 
 1 Prov. xxix. 20 (lxx.). 
 
 Acts i. 1. 
 
 S. Matt, xxiii. 
 
 7 S. Matt. v. 19. 
 
440 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 first to secure steadfast humility of heart, to 
 carry you on by the perfection of love not to 
 the knowledge which puffeth up, but to that 
 which enlightens. For it is an impossibility 
 for an impure mind to gain the gift of spiritual 
 knowledge. And therefore with every possi- 
 ble care avoid this, lest through your zeal for 
 reading there arise in you not the light of 
 knowledge nor the lasting glory which is pro- 
 mised through the light that comes from learning 
 but only the instruments of your destruction 
 from vain arrogance. Next you must by all 
 means strive to get rid of all anxiety and worldly 
 thoughts, and give yourself over assiduously or 
 rather continuously, to sacred reading, until 
 continual meditation fills your heart, and fa- 
 shions you so to speak after its own likeness, 
 making of it, in a way, an ark of the testimony, 1 
 which has within it two tables of stone, i.e., 
 the constant assurance of the two testaments ; 2 
 and a golden pot, i.e., a pure and undefiled 
 memory which preserves by a constant tenacity 
 the manna stored up in it, i.e., the enduring 
 and heavenly sweetness of the spiritual sense 
 and the bread of angels ; moreover also the 
 rod of Aaron, i.e., the saving standard of Jesus 
 Christ our true High Priest, that ever buds 
 with the freshness of immortal memory. For 
 this is the rod which after it had been cut from 
 the root of Jesse, died and flourished again 
 with a more vigorous life. But all these are 
 guarded by two Cherubim, i.e., the fulness of 
 historical and spiritual knowledge. For the 
 Cherubim mean a multitude of knowledge : 
 and these continually protect the mercy seat 
 of God, i.e., the peace of your heart, and over- 
 shadow it from all the assaults of spiritual 
 wickedness. And so your soul will be carried 
 forward not only to .the ark of the Divine Cove- 
 nant, but also to the priestly kingdom, and 
 owing to its unbroken love of purity being as 
 it were engrossed in spiritual studies, will ful- 
 fil the command given to the priests, enjoined 
 as follows by the giver of the Law : " And he 
 shall not go forth from the sanctuary, lest he 
 pollute the Sanctuary of God," 3 i.e., his heart, 
 in which the Lord promised that he would ever 
 dwell, saying: "I will dwell in them and will 
 walk among them." 4 Wherefore the whole 
 series of the Holy Scriptures should be dili- 
 gently committed to memory and ceaselessly 
 repeated. For this continual meditation will 
 bring us a twofold fruit : first, that while the 
 attention of the mind is taken up in reading 
 and preparing the lessons it cannot possibly 
 
 i Cf Heb. ix. 4, 5- 
 
 2 Instrumentum is a favourite word with Tertullian, who uses it 
 more than once of the two Testaments, e.g., Apol. xix. ; and, 
 Against Marcion iv. where he speaks of the " Two Instruments, or, 
 as it is usual to speak, of the TwoTestaments.'' 
 3 Lev. xxi. 12. i 2 Cor. v. 16. 
 
 be taken captive in any snares of bad thoughts : 
 next that those things which were conned over 
 and frequently repeated and which while we were 
 trying to commit them to memory we could 
 not understand as the mind was at that time 
 taken up, we can afterward see more clearly, 
 when we are free from the distraction of all 
 acts and visions, and especially when we reflect 
 on them in silence in our meditation by night. 
 So that when we are at rest, and as it were 
 plunged in the stupor of sleep, there is re- 
 vealed to us the understanding of the most 
 secret meanings, of which in our waking hours 
 we had not the remotest conception. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Of the manifold meaning of the Holy Scriptures. 
 
 But as the renewal of our soul grows by 
 means of this study, Scripture also will begin 
 to put on a new face, and the beauty of the 
 holier meanings will somehow grow with our 
 growth. For their form is adapted to the ca- 
 pacity of man's understanding, and will ap- 
 pear earthly to carnal people, and divine to 
 spiritual ones, so that those to whom it for- 
 merly appeared to be involved in thick clouds, 
 cannot apprehend its subtleties nor endure its 
 light. But to make this which we are aiming 
 at somewhat clearer by an instance, it will be 
 enough to produce a single passage of the 
 law, by which we can prove that all the 
 heavenly commands as well are applied to 
 men in accordance with the measure of our 
 state. For it is written in the law : " Thou 
 shalt not commit adultery." 5 This is rightly 
 observed according to the simple meaning of 
 the letter, by a man who is still in bondage to 
 foul passions. But by one who has already 
 forsaken these dirty acts and impure affections, 
 it must be observed in the spirit, so that he 
 may forsake not only the worship of idols but 
 also all heathen superstitions and the obser- 
 vance of auguries and omens and all signs and 
 days and times, or at any rate that he be not 
 entangled in the conjectures of words and 
 names which destroy the simplicity of our 
 faith. For by fornication of this kind we read 
 that Jerusalem was defiled, as she committed 
 adultery " on every high hill and under every 
 green tree," 6 whom also the Lord rebuked by 
 the prophet, saying : " Let now the astrologers 
 stand and save thee, they that gazed at the 
 stars and counted the months, that from them 
 they might tell the things that shall come to 
 thee," 7 of which fornication elsewhere also 
 
 5 Exod. xx. 14. 
 
 6 Jer. iii. 6. 
 
 1 Is. xlvii. 13. 
 
THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT NESTEROS. 
 
 441 
 
 the Lord says in rebuking them : " The spirit 
 of fornication deceived them, and they went 
 a whoring from their God." 1 But one who 
 has forsaken both these kinds of fornication, 
 will have a third kind to avoid, which is con- 
 tained in the superstitions of the law and of 
 Judaism ; of which the Apostle says : " Ye ob- 
 serve days and months and times and years ; " 
 and again : " Touch not, taste not, handle 
 not." 2 And there is no doubt that this is said 
 of the superstitions of the law, into which one 
 who has fallen has certainly gone a whoring 
 from Christ, and is not worthy to hear this 
 from the Apostle : " For I have espoused you 
 to one husband, to exhibit you as a chaste vir- 
 gin to Christ." 3 But this that follows will be 
 directed to him by the words of the same 
 Apostle : " But I am afraid lest as the serpent 
 by his cunning deceived Eve, so your minds 
 should be corrupted and fall from the simpli- 
 city which is in Christ Jesus." 4 But if one has 
 escaped the uncleanness even of this fornica- 
 tion there will still be a fourth, which is com- 
 mitted by adulterous intercourse with heretical 
 teaching. Of which too the blessed Apostle 
 speaks : " I know that after my departure grie- 
 vous wolves shall enter in among you, not spa- 
 ring the flock, and of yourselves also shall arise 
 men speaking perverse things so as to lead 
 astray the disciples after them." 5 But if a man 
 has succeeded in avoiding even this, let him 
 beware lest he fall by a more subtle sin into 
 the guilt of fornication. I mean that which 
 consists in wandering thoughts, because every 
 thought which is not only shameful but even 
 idle, and departing in however small a degree 
 from God is regarded by the perfect man as 
 the foulest fornication. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A question how we can attain to forgetfulness of the cares of 
 this world. 
 
 Upon this I was at first moved by a secret 
 emotion, and then groaned deeply and said, 
 All these things which you have set forth so 
 fully have affected me with still greater despair 
 than that which I had previously endured : as 
 besides those general captivities of the soul 
 whereby I doubt not that weak people are 
 smitten from without, a special hindrance to 
 salvation is added by that knowledge of litera- 
 ture which I seem already to have in some 
 slight measure attained, in which the efforts of 
 my tutor, or my attention to continual reading 
 hive so weakened me that now my mind is 
 
 1 Hos. iv. 12. 3 2 Cor. xi. 2. B Acts xx. 29, 30. 
 
 2 Gal. iv. 10 ; Col. ii. 21. * lb. ver. 3. 
 
 filled with those songs of the poets so that 
 even at the hour of prayer it is thinking about 
 those trifling fables, and the stories of battles 
 with which from its earliest infancy it was stored 
 by its childish lessons: and when singing Psalms 
 or asking forgiveness of sins either some wan- 
 ton recollection of the poems intrudes itself or 
 the images of heroes fighting presents itself 
 before the eyes, and an imagination of such 
 phantoms is always tricking me and does not 
 suffer my soul to aspire to an insight into 
 things above, so that this cannot be got rid of 
 by my daily lamentations. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Of the method by which we can remove the dross from our 
 memory. 
 
 Nesteros : From this very fact, from which 
 there springs up for you the utmost despair 
 of your purification, a speedy and effectual 
 remedy may arise if only you will transfer to 
 the reading of and meditation upon the wri- 
 tings of the Spirit, the same diligence and 
 earnestness which you say that you showed in 
 those secular studies of yours. For your 
 mind is sure to be taken up with those poems 
 until it is gaining with the same zeal and 
 assiduity other matters for it to reflect upon, 
 and is in labour with spiritual and divine things 
 instead of unprofitable earthly ones. But 
 when these are thoroughly and entirely con- 
 ceived and it has been nourished upon them, 
 then by degrees the former thoughts can be 
 expelled and utterly got rid of. For the mind 
 of man cannot be emptied of all thoughts, and 
 so as long as it is not taken up with spiritual 
 interests, is sure to be occupied with what it 
 learnt long since. For as long as it has no- 
 thing to recur to and exercise itself upon un- 
 weariedly, it is sure to fall back upon what it 
 learnt in childhood, and ever to think about 
 what it took in by long use and meditation. In 
 order then that this spiritual knowledge may 
 be strengthened in you with a lasting stead- 
 fastness, and that you may not enjoy it only 
 for a time like those who just touch it not by 
 their own exertions but at the recital of another, 
 and, if I may use the expression, perceive its 
 scent in the air ; but that it may be laid up in 
 your heart, and deeply noted in it, and tho- 
 roughly seen and handled, it is well for you to 
 use the utmost care in securing that, even if 
 perhaps you hear things that you know very 
 well produced in the Conference, you do not 
 regard them in a scornful and disdainful way 
 because you already know them, but that you 
 lay them to your heart with the same eagerness, 
 
442 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 with which the words of salvation which we are 
 longing for ought to be constantly poured into 
 our ears or should ever proceed from our lips. 
 For although the narration of holy things be 
 often repeated, yet in a mind that feels a 
 thirst for true knowledge the satiety will never 
 create disgust, but as it receives it every day 
 as if it were something new and what it wanted, 
 however often it may have taken it in, it will 
 so much the more eagerly either hear or speak, 
 and from the repetition of these things will gain 
 confirmation of the knowledge it already pos- 
 sesses, rather than weariness of any sort from 
 the frequent Conference. For it is a sure sign 
 of a mind that is cold and proud, if it receives 
 with disdain and carelessness the medicine of 
 the words of salvation, although it be offered 
 with the zeal of excessive persistence. For " a 
 soul that is full jeers at honeycomb : but to a 
 soul that is in want even little things appear 
 sweet." x And so if these things have been 
 carefully taken in and stored up in the recesses 
 of the soul and stamped with the seal of silence, 
 afterwards like some sweet scented wine that 
 maketh glad the heart of man, they will, when 
 mellowed by the antiquity of the thoughts and 
 by long-standing patience, be brought forth 
 from the jar of your heart with great fragrance, 
 and like some perennial fountain will flow abun- 
 dantly from the veins of experience and irriga- 
 ting channels of virtue and will pour forth 
 copious streams as if from some deep well in 
 your heart. For that will happen in your case, 
 which is spoken in Proverbs to one who has 
 achieved this in his work : " Drink waters from 
 your own cisterns and from the fount of your 
 own wells. Let waters from your own foun- 
 tain flow in abundance for you, but let your 
 waters pass through into your streets." 2 And 
 according to the prophet Isaiah : " Thou shalt 
 be like a watered garden, and like a fountain 
 of water whose waters shall not fail. And the 
 places that have been desolate for ages shall 
 be built in thee ; thou shalt raise up the foun- 
 dations of generation and generation ; and thou 
 shalt be called the repairer of the fences, turn- 
 ing the paths into rest." 3 And that blessed- 
 ness shall come upon thee which the same 
 prophet promises : " And the Lord will not cause 
 thy teacher to flee away from thee any more, 
 and thine eyes shall see thy teacher. And thine 
 ears shall hear the word of one admonishing 
 thee behind thy back : This is the way, walk 
 ye in it, and go not aside either to the right 
 hand or to the left.' 4 And so it will come to 
 pass that not only every purpose and thought 
 of your heart, but also all the wanderings and 
 
 rovings of your imagination will become to you 
 a holy and unceasing pondering of the Divine 
 law. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 How an unclean soul can neither give nor receive spiritual 
 knowledge. 
 
 But it is, as we have already said, impos- 
 sible for a novice either to understand or to 
 teach this. For if one is incapable of receiving 
 it how can he be fit to pass it on to another ? 
 But if he has had the audacity to teach any- 
 thing on these matters, most certainly his words 
 will be idle and useless and only reach the ears 
 of his hearers, without being able to touch their 
 hearts, uttered as they were in sheer idleness 
 and unfruitful vanity, for they do not proceed 
 from the treasure of a good conscience, but 
 from the empty impertinence of boastfulness. 
 For it is. impossible for an impure soul (how- 
 ever earnestly it may devote itself to reading) 
 to obtain spiritual knowledge. For no one 
 pours any rich ointment or fine honey or any 
 precious liquid into a dirty and stinking vessel. 
 For a jar that has once been filled with foul 
 odours spoils the sweetest myrrh more readily 
 than it receives any sweetness or grace from it, 
 for what is pure is corrupted much more quickly 
 than what is corrupt is purified. And so the 
 vessel of our bosom unless it has first been 
 purified from all the foul stains of sin will not 
 be worthy to receive that blessed ointment of 
 which it is said by the prophet : " Like the oint- 
 ment upon the head, which ran down upon the 
 beard of Aaron, which ran down upon the edge 
 of his garment," 5 nor will it keep undefiled 
 that spiritual knowledge and the words of Scrip- 
 ture which are " sweeter than honey and the 
 honeycomb." 6 " For what share hath right- 
 eousness with iniquity ? or what agreement 
 hath light with darkness ? or what concord 
 has Christ with Belial ? " 7 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 An objection owing to the fact that many impure persons 
 have knowledge while saints have not. 
 
 Germanus : This assertion does not seem 
 to us founded on truth, or based on solid rea- 
 soning. For if it is clear that all who either 
 never receive the faith of Christ at all or who 
 corrupt it by the wicked sin of heresy, are of 
 unclean hearts, how is it that many Jews and 
 heretics, and Catholics also who are entangled 
 
 1 Prov. xxvii. 7. 
 
 2 Prov. v. 15, 16. 
 
 s Is. lviii. n, 
 4 Is. xxx. 20, 
 
 5 Ps. cxxxii. (cxxxiii.) 2. 6 Ps. xviii. (xix.) 11. 7 2 Cor. vi. 14, 15. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT NESTEROS. 
 
 44: 
 
 in various sins, have acquired perfect know- 
 ledge of the Scriptures and boast of the great- 
 ness of their spiritual learning, and on the other 
 hand countless swarms of saintly men, whose 
 heart has been purified from all stain of sin, 
 are content with the piety of simple faith and 
 know nothing of the mysteries of a deeper 
 knowledge ? How then will that opinion stand, 
 which attributes spiritual knowledge solely to 
 purity of heart ? 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The answer to the effect that bad men cannot possess true 
 knowledge. 
 
 Nesteros : One who does not carefully weigh 
 every word of the opinions uttered cannot 
 rightly discover the value of the assertion. For 
 we said to begin with that men of this sort only 
 possess skill in disputation and ornaments of 
 speech; but cannot penetrate to the very heart 
 of Scripture and the mysteries of its spirit- 
 ual meanings. For true knowledge is only 
 acquired by true worshippers of God; and 
 certainly this people does not possess it to 
 whom it is said: "Hear, O, foolish people, 
 thou who hast no heart : ye who having eyes 
 sea not, and having ears, hear not." And 
 again: "Because thou hast rejected know- 
 ledge, I also will reject thee from acting as 
 My priest." * For as it is said that in Christ 
 "all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge 
 are hid," 2 how can we hold that he who has 
 scorned to find Christ, or, when He is found, 
 blasphemes Him with impious lips, or at least 
 defiles the Catholic faith by his impure deeds, 
 has acquired spiritual knowledge ? " For the 
 Spirit of God will avoid deception, and dwell- 
 eth not in a body that is subject to sin." 3 
 There is then no way of arriving at spiritual 
 knowledge but this which one of the prophets 
 has finely described: " Sow to yourselves for 
 righteousness: reap the hope of life. Enlight- 
 en yourselves with the light of knowledge." 4 
 First then we must sow for righteousness, i.e., 
 by works of righteousness we must extend 
 practical perfection; next we must reap the 
 hope of life, i.e., by the expulsion of carnal 
 sins must gather the fruits of spiritual virtues; 
 and so we shall succeed in enlightening our- 
 selves with the light of knowledge. And the 
 Psalmist also sees that this system ought to be 
 followed, when he says : " Blessed are they that 
 are undefiled in the way : who walk in the law of 
 the Lord. Blessed are they that seek His tes- 
 
 1 Jer. v. 21 ; Hos. iv. 6. 
 
 2 Col. ii. 3. 
 
 3 Wisd. i. 4, 5. 
 
 4 Hos. x. 12. 
 
 timonies." 5 For he does not say in the first 
 place : " Blessed are they that seek His testimo- 
 nies," and afterwards add: "Blessed are they 
 that are undefiled in the way; " but he begins 
 by saying: "Blessed are they that are unde- 
 filed in the way; " and by this clearly shows 
 that no one can properly come to seek God's 
 testimonies unless he first walks undefiled in 
 the way of Christ by his practical life. Those 
 therefore whom you mentioned do not possess 
 that knowledge which the impure cannot at- 
 tain, but iftevdwyv/nof, i.e., what is falsely so- 
 called, of which the blessed Apostle speaks : 
 "O Timothy, keep that which is committed 
 to thee, avoiding profane novelties of words, 
 and oppositions of the knowledge that is 
 falsely so called;" 6 which is in the Greek 
 i<'ti uiTidiofi; Trj; \pEv8v)vvf.iov yvuxjiut;. Of those 
 then who seem to acquire some show of know- 
 ledge or of those who while they devote them- 
 selves diligently to reading the sacred volume 
 and to committing the Scriptures to memory, 
 yet forsake not carnal sins, it is well said in 
 Proverbs : " Like as a golden ring in a swine's 
 snout so is the beauty of an evil-disposed 
 woman." 7 For what does it profit a man to 
 gain the ornaments of heavenly eloquence and 
 the most precious beauty of the Scriptures if 
 by clinging to filthy deeds and thoughts he 
 destroys it by burying it in the foulest ground, 
 or defiles it by the dirty wallowing of his own 
 lusts? For the result will be that that which 
 is an ornament to those -who rightly use it, is 
 not only unable to adorn them, but actually 
 becomes dirty by the increased filth and mud. 
 For "from the mouth of a sinner praise is not 
 comely ; " 8 as to him it is said by the prophet : 
 "Wherefore dost thou declare My righteous 
 acts, and takest My covenant in thy lips?" 9 
 of souls like this, who never possess in any 
 lasting fashion the fear of the Lord of which 
 it is said : "the fear of the Lord is instruction 
 and wisdom," 10 and yet try to get at the mean- 
 ing of Scripture by continual meditation on 
 them, it is appropriately asked in Proverbs: 
 "What use are riches to a fool ? For a sense- 
 less man cannot possess wisdom." " But so far 
 is this true and spiritual knowledge removed 
 from that worldly erudition, which is defiled 
 by the stains of carnal sins, that we know that 
 it has sometimes flourished most grandly in 
 some who were without eloquence and almost 
 illiterate. And this is very clearly shown by 
 the case of the Apostles and many holy men, 
 who did not spread themselves out with an 
 empty show of leaves, but were bowed down 
 by the weight of the true fruits of spiritual 
 
 5 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 1, 
 1 T.im. vi. 20. 
 7 Prov. xi. 22. 
 
 8 Kcclus. xv. 9. 
 
 9 Ps. xlix. (1.) 16. 
 
 10 Prov. xv. 33. 
 
 11 Prov. xvii. 16 
 
444 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 knowledge : of whom it is written in the Acts 
 of the Apostles: "But when they saw the 
 boldness of Peter and John, and perceived 
 that they were ignorant and unlearned men, 
 they were astonished." x And therefore if you 
 are anxious to attain to that 'never-failing 
 fragrance, you must first strive with all your 
 might to obtain from the Lord the purity of 
 chastity. For no one, in whom the love of 
 carnal passions and especially of fornication 
 still holds sway, can acquire spiritual know- 
 ledge. For " in a good heart wisdom will 
 rest;" and: " He that feareth the Lord shall 
 find knowledge with righteousness." 2 But 
 that we must attain to spiritual knowledge in 
 the order of which we have already spoken, we 
 are taught also by the blessed Apostle. For 
 when he wanted not merely to draw up a list 
 of all his own virtues, but rather to describe 
 their order, that he might explain which fol- 
 lows what, and which gives birth to what, after 
 some others he proceeds as follows: "In 
 watchings, in fastings, in chastity, in know- 
 ledge, in long suffering, in gentleness, in the 
 Holy Ghost, in love unfeigned." 3 And by 
 this enumeration of virtues he evidently 
 meant to teach us that we must come from 
 watchings and fastings to chastity, from chas- 
 tity to knowledge, from knowledge to long suf- 
 ering, from long suffering to gentleness, from 
 gentleness to the Holy Ghost, from the Holy 
 Ghost to the rewards of love unfeigned. 
 When then by this system and in this order 
 you too have come to spiritual knowledge, 
 you will certainly have, as we said, not bar- 
 ren or idle learning but what is vigorous and 
 fruitful ; and the seed of the word of salvation 
 which has been committed by you to the 
 hearts of your hearers, will be watered by the 
 plentiful showers of the Holy Ghost that will 
 follow; and, according to this that the prophet 
 promised, " the rain will be given to your seed, 
 wherever you shall sow in the land, and the 
 bread of the corn of the land shall be most 
 plentiful and fat." 4 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 To whom the method of perfection should be laid open. 
 
 Solomon, that wisest of men, denounced : 
 "Attach not a wicked man to the pastures of 
 the just, and be not led astray by the fulness of 
 the belly," for "delicacies are not good for a 
 fool, nor is there room for wisdom where sense 
 is wanting : for folly is the more led on, because 
 a stubborn servant is not improved by words, 
 for even though he understands, he will not 
 obey." And "Do not say anything in the 
 ears of an imprudent man, lest haply he mock 
 at thy wise speeches." 5 And "give not that 
 which is holy to dogs, neither cast ye your 
 pearls before swine, lest haply they trample 
 them under foot and turn again and rend 
 
 you. 
 
 It is right then to hide the mysteries 
 
 Take care too, when your riper age leads 
 you to teach, lest you be led astray by the 
 love of vainglory, and teach at random to 
 the most impure persons these things which 
 you have learnt not so much by reading as by j usury 
 the effects of experience, and so incur what | 
 
 of spiritual meanings from men of this sort, 
 that you may effectually sing: "Thy words 
 have I hid within my heart: that I should 
 not sin against Thee." 7 But you will per- 
 haps say : And to whom are the mysteries of 
 Holy Scripture to be dispensed? Solomon, 
 the wisest of men, shall teach you : " Give, says 
 he, strong drink to those who are in sorrow, 
 and give wine to drink, to those who are in 
 pain, that they may forget their poverty, and 
 remember their pain no more," 8 i.e., to those 
 who in consequence of the punishment of their 
 past actions are oppressed with grief and sor- 
 row, supply richly the joys of spiritual know- 
 ledge like "wine that maketh glad the heart of 
 man, " 9 and restore them with the strong drink 
 of the word of salvation, lest haply they be 
 plunged in continual sorrow and a despair 
 that brings death, and so those who are of this 
 sort be "swallowed up in overmuch sorrow." 1 ? 
 But of those who remain in coldness and care- 
 lessness, and are smitten by no sorrow of 
 heart we read as follows: "For one who is 
 kindly and without sorrow, shall be in want." 11 
 With all possible care therefore avoid being 
 puffed up with the love of vainglory, and so 
 failing to become a partaker with him whom 
 the prophet praises, "who hath not given his 
 money upon usury." 12 For every one who, 
 from love of the praise of men dispenses the 
 words of God, of which it is said "the words 
 of the Lord are pure words, as silver tried by 
 the fire, purged from the earth, refined seven 
 times," 13 puts out his money upon usury, and 
 will deserve for this not merely no reward, but 
 rather punishment. For for this reason he 
 chose to use up his Lord's money that he 
 might be the gainer from a temporal profit, 
 and not that the Lord, as it is written, might 
 "when He comes, receive His own with 
 
 1 Acts iv. 13. 
 
 2 Prov. xiv. 33 ; Ecclus. xxxii. 20. 
 
 3 2 Cor. vi. 5, 6. 
 
 4 Is. xxx. 23. 
 
 5 Prov. xxiv. 15; xix. 10; xviii. 2 ; xxix. 19; xxiii. 9 (LXX.). 
 S. Matt. vii. 6. 9 Ps. ciii. (civ.) 15. l: Ps. xiv. (xv.) 5. 
 
 7 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) n. I0 2 Cor. ii. 7. 13 Ps. xi. (xii.) 7. 
 
 8 Prov. xxxi. 6, 7. u Prov. xiv. 23. " S. Matt. xxv. 27. 
 
SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT NESTEROS. 
 
 445 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Of the reasons for which spiritual learning is unfruitful. 
 
 But it is certain that for two reasons the 
 teaching of spiritual things is ineffectual. 
 For either the teacher is commending what 
 he has no experience of, and is trying with 
 empty-sounding words to instruct his hearer, 
 or else the hearer is a bad man and full of 
 faults and cannot receive in his hard heart the 
 holy and saving doctrine of the spiritual man; 
 and of these it is said by the prophet : " For 
 the heart of this people is blinded, and their 
 ears are dull of hearing and their eyes have 
 they closed : lest at any time they should see 
 with their eyes and hear with their ears, and 
 understand with their heart and be converted 
 and I should heal them." * 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 How often even those who are not worthy can receive the 
 grace of the saving word. 
 
 But sometimes in the lavish generosity of 
 God in His Providence, "Who willeth all men 
 to be saved and to come to the knowledge of 
 the truth," 3 it is granted that one who has 
 not shown himself by an irreproachable life 
 to be worthy of the preaching of the gospel 
 attains the grace of spiritual teaching for the 
 good of many. But by what means the gifts 
 of healing are granted by the Lord for the 
 expulsion of devils it follows that we must in 
 a similar discussion explain, which as we are 
 going to rise for supper we will keep for the 
 evening, because that is always more effectually 
 grasped by the heart which is taken in by 
 degrees and without excessive bodily efforts. 
 
 XV. 
 THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT NESTEROS. 
 
 ON DIVINE GIFTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Discourse of Abbot Nesteros on the threefold system of gifts. 
 
 After evening service we sat down together 
 on the mats as usual ready for the promised 
 narration: and when we had kept silence for 
 some little time out of reverence for the Elder, 
 he anticipated the silence of our respect by 
 such words as these. The previous order of 
 our discourse had brought us to the exposition 
 of the system of spiritual gifts, which we have 
 learnt from the tradition of the Elders is a 
 threefold one. The first indeed is for the 
 sake of healing, when the grace of signs ac- 
 companies certain elect and righteous men on 
 account of the merits of their holiness, as it 
 is clear that the apostles and many of the 
 saints wrought signs and wonders in accord- 
 ance with the authority of the Lord Who says : 
 " Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the 
 lepers, cast out devils : freely ye have received, 
 freely give." 2 The second when for the edifi- 
 cation of the church or on account of the faith 
 of those who bring their sick, or of those who 
 
 1 Is. "ji. 10. 
 
 - S. Matt. x. 8. 
 
 are to be cured, the virtue of health proceeds 
 even from sinners and men unworthy of it. Of 
 whom the Saviour says in the gospel : " Many 
 shall say to Me in that day, Lord, Lord, have 
 we not prophesied in Thy name, and in Thy 
 name cast out devils, and in Thy name done 
 many mighty works? And then I will confess 
 to them, I never knew you : Depart from Me, 
 ye workers of iniquity." 4 And on the other 
 hand, if the faith of those who bring them or 
 of the sick is wanting, it prevents those on 
 whom the gifts of healing are conferred from 
 exercising their powers of healing. On which 
 subject Luke the Evangelist says: "And Jesus 
 could not there do any mighty work because of 
 their unbelief." 5 Whence also the Lord Him- 
 self says: "Many lepers were in Israel in the 
 days of Elisha the prophet, and none of them 
 was cleansed but Naaman the Syrian.'' 6 The 
 third method of healing is copied by the deceit 
 and contrivance of devils, that, when a man 
 who is enslaved to evident sins is out of ad- 
 miration for his miracles regarded as a saint 
 and a servant of God, men may be persuaded 
 
 3 i Tim. ii. 4. 
 
 4 S. Matt. vii. 22, 23. 
 
 5 S. Mark vi. 5, 6. 
 c S. Luke iv. 27. 
 
446 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 to copy his sins and thus an opening being 
 made for cavilling, the sanctity of religion 
 may be brought into disgrace, or else that 
 he, who believes that he possesses the gift of 
 healing, may be puffed up by pride of heart 
 and so fall more grievously. Hence it is that 
 invoking the names of those, who, as they 
 know, have no merits of holiness or any spiri- 
 tual fruits, they pretend that by their merits 
 they are disturbed and made to flee from the 
 bodies they have possessed. Of which it says 
 in Deuteronomy: "If there rise up in the 
 midst of thee a prophet, or one who says that 
 he has seen a dream, and declare a sign and 
 a wonder, and that which he hath spoken 
 cometh to pass, and he say to thee : Let us 
 go and follow after other gods whom thou 
 knowest not, and let us serve them : thou shalt 
 not hear the words of that prophet or of that 
 dreamer, for the Lord thy God is tempting 
 thee that it may appear whether thou lovest 
 Him or not, with all thy heart and with all 
 thy soul." 1 And in the gospel it says: 
 "There shall arise false Christs and false 
 prophets, and shall give great signs and won- 
 ders, so that, if it were possible, even the 
 elect should be led astray." 2 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Wherein one ought to admire the saints. 
 
 Wherefore we never ought to admire those 
 who affect these things, for these powers, 
 but rather to look whether they are perfect 
 in driving out all sins, and amending their 
 ways, for this is granted to each man not 
 for the faith of some other, or for a variety 
 of reasons, but for his own earnestness, by 
 the action of God's grace. For this is prac- 
 tical knowledge which is termed by another 
 name by the Apostle; viz., love, and is by 
 the authority of the Apostle preferred to all 
 tongues of men and of angels, and to full 
 assurance of faith which can even remove 
 mountains, and to all knowledge, and pro- 
 phecy, and to the distribution of all one's 
 goods, and finally to the glory of martyrdom 
 itself. For when he had enumerated all kinds 
 of gifts and had said: ''To one is given by 
 the Spirit the word of wisdom, to another 
 the word of knowledge, to another faith, to 
 another the gift of healing, to another the 
 working of miracles, etc. : " 3 when he was 
 going to speak about love notice how in a 
 few words he put it before all gifts: '"And 
 
 - S. Matt. xxiv. 24. 
 
 1 Cor. xii. S-10. 
 
 yet," he says, "I show unto you a still more 
 excellent way.'* 4 By which it is clearly 
 shown that the height of perfection and 
 blessedness does not consist in the perfor- 
 mance of those wonderful works but in the 
 purity of love. And this not without good 
 reason. For all those things are to pass away 
 and be destroyed, but love is to abide for 
 ever. And so we have never found that those 
 works and signs were affected by our fathers : 
 nay, rather when they did possess them by 
 the grace of the Holy Spirit they would never 
 use them, unless perhaps extreme and un- 
 avoidable necessity drove them to do so. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Of a dead man raised to life by Abbot Macarius. 
 
 As also we remember that a dead man was 
 raised to life by Abbot Macarius who was the 
 first to find a home in the desert of Scete. 5 
 For when a certain heretic who followed the 
 error of Eunomius was trying by dialectic 
 subtlety to destroy the simplicity of the 
 Catholic faith, and had already deceived a 
 large number of men, the blessed Macarius 
 was asked by some Catholics, who were 
 terribly disturbed by the horror of such an 
 upset, to set free the simple folk of all Egvpt 
 from the peril of infidelity, and came for 
 this purpose. And when the heretic had 
 approached him with his dialectic art, and 
 wanted to drag him away in his ignorance to 
 the thorns of Aristotle, the blessed Macarius 
 put a stop to his chatter with apostolic 
 brevity, saying: "the kingdom of God is not 
 in word but in power. " G Let us go therefore 
 to the tombs, and let us invoke the name of 
 the Lord over the first dead man we find, and 
 let us, as it is written, "show our faith by our 
 works," 7 that by His testimony the manifest 
 proofs of a right faith may be shown, and we 
 may prove the clear truth not by an empty 
 discussion of words but by the power of 
 miracles and that judgment which cannot be 
 deceived. And when he heard this the heretic 
 was overwhelmed with shame before the peo- 
 ple who were present, and pretended for the 
 moment that he consented to the terms pro- 
 posed, and promised that he would come on 
 the morrow, but the next day when they were 
 
 4 1 Cor. xii. 31. 
 
 5 This was the " Egyptian," not the "Alexandrian" Macarius. 
 Seethe note on the Institutes. V. xii. The story is also given by Ru- 
 finus, History of the Monks, c. xxviii. : as well as Sozomen, H. E. III. 
 xiv., and by both of these writers is expressly ascribed to the Egyp- 
 tian Macarius. 
 
 c 1 Cor. iv. 20. " Cf. S. James ii. 14. 
 
SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT NESTEROS. 
 
 447 
 
 all in expectation who had come together 
 with greater eagerness to the appointed place, 
 owing to their desire for the spectacle, he 
 was terrified by the consciousness of his want 
 of faith, and tied away, and at once escaped 
 out of all Egypt. And when the blessed 
 Macarius had waited together with the peo- 
 ple till the ninth hour, and saw that he had 
 owing to his guilty conscience avoided him, 
 he took the people, who had been perverted 
 by him and went to the tombs determined 
 upon. Now in Egypt the overflow of the river 
 Nile has introduced this custom that, since 
 the whole breadth of that country is covered 
 for no small part of the year by the regular 
 flood of waters like a great sea so that there 
 is no means of getting about except by a 
 passage in boats, the bodies of the dead are 
 embalmed and stored away in cells an good 
 height up. For the soil of that land being 
 damp from the continual moisture prevents 
 them from burying them. For if it receives 
 any bodies buried in it, it is forced by the ex- 
 cessive inundations to cast them forth on its 
 surface. When then the blessed Macarius had 
 taken up his position by a most ancient corpse, 
 he said "O man, if that heretic and son of 
 perdition had come hither with me, and, 
 while he was standing by, I had exclaimed 
 and invoked the name of Christ my God, say 
 in the presence of these who were almost per- 
 verted by his fraud, whether you would have 
 arisen." Then he arose and replied with 
 words of assent. And then Abbot Macarius 
 asked him what he had formerly been when he 
 enjoyed life here, or in what age of men he had 
 lived, or if he had then known the name of 
 Christ, and he replied that he had lived under 
 kings of most ancient date, and declared that 
 in those days he had never heard the name of 
 Christ. To whom once more Abbot Maca- 
 rius: "Sleep," said he, "in peace with the 
 others in your own order, to be roused again 
 by Christ in the end." All this power then 
 and grace of his which was in him would per- 
 haps have always been hidden, unless the 
 needs of the whole province which was en- 
 dangered, and his entire devotion to Christ, 
 and unfeigned love, had forced him to perform 
 this miracle. And certainly it was not the 
 ostentation of glory but the love of Christ 
 and the good of all the people that wrung 
 from him the performance of it. As the 
 passage in the book of Kings shows us that 
 the blessed Elijah also did, who asked that 
 fire might descend from heaven on the sacri- 
 fices laid on the pyre, for this reason that he 
 might set free the faith of the whole people 
 which was endangered by the tricks of the 
 false prophets. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Of the miracle which Abbot Abraham wrought on the breasts 
 of a woman. 
 
 Why also need I mention the acts of Abbot 
 Abraham, 1 who was surnamed unlov;, i.e., the 
 simple, from the simplicity of his life and hib 
 innocence. This man when he had gone from 
 the desert to Egypt for the harvest in the 
 season of Quinquagesima 2 was pestered with 
 tears and prayers by a woman who brought 
 her little child, already pining away and half 
 dead from lack of milk; he gave her a cup of 
 water to drink signed with the sign of the 
 cross; and when she had drunk it at once 
 most marvellously her breasts that had been 
 till then utterly dry flowed with a copious 
 abundance of milk. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Of the cure of a lame man which the same saint wrought. 
 
 Or when the same man as he went to a 
 village was surrounded by mocking crowds, 
 who sneered at him and showed him a man 
 who was for many years deprived of the power 
 of walking from a contracted knee, and 
 crawled from a weakness of long standing, 
 they tempted him and said, " Show us, father 
 Abraham, if you are the servant of God, and 
 restore tl'is man to his former health, that we 
 may believe that the name of Christ, whom 
 you worship, is not vain." Then he at once 
 invoked the name of Christ, and stooped 
 down and laid hold of the man's withered 
 foot and pulled it. And immediately at his 
 touch the dried and bent knee was straight- 
 ened, and he got back the use of his legs, 
 which he had forgotten how to use in his long 
 years of weakness, and went away rejoicing. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 How the merits of each man should not be judged by his 
 miracles. 
 
 And so these men gave no credit to them- 
 selves for their power of working such won- 
 ders, because they confessed that they were 
 done not by their own merits but by the 
 compassion of the Lord and with the words 
 of the Apostle they refused the human hon- 
 
 1 Possibly the same person as the author of Conference xxiv., 
 but nothing further appears to be known of him. 
 
 2 i.e., the fifty days from Easter to Whitsuntide ; cf. the note on 
 the Institutes, II. xviii. 
 
448 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 our offered out of admiration for their mir- 
 acles : " Men and brethren, why marvel ye 
 at this, or why look ye on us as though by 
 our own power or holiness we had caused this 
 man to walk." x Nor did they think that any 
 one should be renowned for the gifts and 
 marvels of God, but rather for the fruits of 
 his own good deeds, which are brought about 
 by the efforts of his mind and the power of 
 his works. For often, as was said above, 
 men of corrupt minds, reprobate concerning 
 the truth, both cast out devils and perform 
 the greatest miracles in the name of the Lord. 
 Of whom when the Apostles complained and 
 said: " Master, we saw one casting out devils 
 in Thy name, and we forbade him because he 
 followeth not with us," though for the present 
 Christ replied to trfem " Forbid him not, for 
 he that is not against you is for you," 2 still 
 when they say at the end : " Lord, Lord, have 
 we not in Thy name prophesied, and in Thy 
 name cast out devils, and in Thy name done 
 many mighty works ? " He testifies that then 
 He will answer: "I never knew you: depart 
 from me, ye workers of iniquity." 3 And 
 therefore He actually warns those, to whom 
 He Himself has given this glory of miracles 
 and mighty works because of their holiness, 
 that they be not puffed up by them, saying : 
 "Rejoice not because the devils are subject 
 to you, but rejoice rather because your names 
 are written in heaven." 4 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 How the excellence of gifts consists not in miracles but in 
 humility. 
 
 Finally the Author Himself of all miracles 
 and mighty works, when He called His dis- 
 ciples to learn His teaching, clearly showed 
 what those true and specially chosen follow- 
 ers ought chiefly to learn from Him, saying: 
 "Come and learn of Me," not chiefly to cast 
 out devils by the power of heaven, not to 
 cleanse the lepers, not to give sight to the 
 blind, not to raise the dead: for even though 
 I. do these things by some of My servants, yet 
 man's estate cannot insert itself into the 
 praises of God, nor can a minister and servant 
 gather hereby any portion for himself there 
 where is the glory of Deity alone. But do 
 ye, says He, learn this of Me, "for I am 
 meek and lowly of heart." 5 For this it is 
 which it is possible for all men generally to 
 learn and practise, but the working of miracles 
 and signs is not always necessary, nor good 
 
 1 Acts iii. 12. 3 S. Matt. vii. 22, 23. 
 
 2 S. Luke ix. 49, 50. * S. Luke x. 20. 
 
 5 S. Matt. xi. 2S, 29. 
 
 for all, nor granted to all. Humility there- 
 fore is the mistress of all virtues, it is the 
 surest foundation of the heavenly building, it 
 is the special and splendid gift of the Saviour. 
 For he can perform all the miracles which 
 Christ wrought, without danger of being puffed 
 up, who follows the gentle Lord not in the 
 grandeur of His miracles, but in the virtues 
 of patience and humility. But he who aims 
 at commanding unclean spirits, or bestowing 
 gifts of healing, or showing some wonderful 
 miracle to the people, even though when he is 
 showing off he invokes the name of Christ, 
 yet he is far from Christ, because in his 
 pride of heart he does not follow his humble 
 Teacher. For when He was returning to 
 the Father, He prepared, so to speak, His 
 will and left this to His disciples: "A new 
 commandment," said He, "give I unto you 
 that ye love one another; as I have loved 
 you, so do ye also love one another : " and at 
 once He subjoined: "By this shall all men 
 know that ye are My disciples, if ye have love 
 to one another." 6 He says not: "if ye do 
 signs and miracles in the same way," but: 
 "if ye have love to one another;" and this 
 it is certain that none but the meek and 
 humble can keep. Wherefore our predeces- 
 sors never reckoned those as good monks or 
 free from the fault of vainglory, who pro- 
 fessed themselves exorcists among men, and 
 proclaimed with boastful ostentation among 
 admiring crowds the grace which they had 
 either obtained or which they claimed. But 
 in vain, for "he who trusteth in lies feedeth 
 the winds: and the same runneth after birds 
 that fly away." 7 For without doubt that will 
 happen to them which we find in Proverbs: 
 "As the winds and clouds and rain are very 
 clear so are these who boast of a fictitious 
 gift." 8 And so if any one does any of these 
 things in our presence, he ought to meet with 
 commendation from us not from admiration 
 of his miracles, but from the beauty of his life, 
 nor should we ask whether the devils are sub- 
 ject to him, but whether he possesses those 
 features of love which the Apostle describes. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 How it is more wonderful to have cast out one's faults from 
 one's self than devils from another. 
 
 And in truth it is a greater miracle to root 
 out from one's own flesh the incentives to 
 wantonness than to cast out unclean spirits 
 from the bodies of others, and it is a grander 
 sign to restrain the fierce passions of anger 
 
 6 S. John xiii. 34, 35. 
 
 Prov. x. 4. 
 
 8 Prov. xxv. 14. 
 
SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT NESTEROS. 
 
 449 
 
 by the virtue of patience than to command 
 the powers of the air, and it is a greater thing 
 to have shut out the devouring pangs of 
 gloominess from one's own heart than to have 
 expelled the sickness of another and the fever 
 of his body. Finally it is in many ways a 
 grander virtue and a more splendid achieve- 
 ment to cure the weaknesses of one's own 
 soul than those of the body of another. For 
 just as the soul is higher than the flesh, so is 
 its salvation of more importance, and as its 
 nature is more precious and excellent, so is its 
 destruction more grievous and dangerous. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 How uprightness of life is of more importance than the 
 working of miracles. 
 
 And of those cures it was said to the blessed 
 Apostles : " Rejoice not that the devils are 
 subject to you" 1 For this was wrought not 
 by their own power, but by the might of the 
 name invoked. And therefore they are warned 
 not to presume to claim for themselves any 
 blessedness or glory on this account as it 
 was done simply by the power and might of 
 God, but only on account of the inward purity 
 of their life and heart, for which it was vouch- 
 safed to them to have their names written in 
 heaven. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A revelation on the trial of perfect chastity. 
 
 And to prove this that we have said both 
 by the testimony of the ancients and divine 
 oracles, we had better bring forward in his 
 own words and experience what the blessed 
 Paphnutius 2 felt on the subject of admira- 
 tion of miracles and the grace of purity, or 
 rather what he learnt from the revelation of 
 an angel. For this man had been famous 
 for many years for his signal strictness so that 
 he fancied that he was completely free from 
 the snares of carnal concupiscence because 
 he felt himself superior to all the attacks of 
 the demons with whom he had fought openly 
 and for a long while; and when some holy 
 men had come to him, he was preparing for 
 them a porridge of lentiles which they call 
 Athera, 3 and his hand, as it happened, was 
 
 1 S. Luke x. 20. 2 Cf. the note on Conferences III. i. 
 
 3 Athera. This is noticed by Pliny (Hist. Nat. xxii. 25, 57, §121) 
 as the Egyptian name for a decoction made from grain. 
 
 burnt in the oven, by a flame that darted up. 
 And when this happened he was much morti- 
 fied and began silently to consider with him- 
 self, and ask why was not the fire at peace 
 with me, when my more serious contests with 
 demons have ceased? or how will that un- 
 quenchable fire which searches out the deserts 
 of all pass me by in that dread day of judg- 
 ment, and fail to detain me, if this trivial 
 temporal fire from without has not spared me? 
 And as he was troubled by thoughts of this 
 kind and vexation a sudden sleep overcame 
 him and an angel of the Lord came to him 
 and said : " Paphnutius, why are you vexed 
 because that earthly fire is not yet at peace 
 with you, while there still remains in, your 
 members some disturbance of carnal motions 
 that is not completely removed? For as long 
 as the roots of this flourish within you, they 
 will not suffer that material fire to be at peace 
 with you. And certainly you could not feel 
 it harmless unless you found by such proofs 
 as these that all these internal motions within 
 you were destroyed. Go, take a naked and 
 most beautiful virgin, and if while you hold 
 her you find that the peace of your heart re- 
 mains steadfast, and that carnal heat is still 
 and quiet within you, then the touch of this 
 visible flame also shall pass over you gently 
 and without harming you as it did over the 
 three children in Babylon. " And so the Elder 
 was impressed by this revelation and did not 
 try the dangers of the experiment divinely 
 shown to him, but asked his own conscience 
 and examined the purity of his heart; and, 
 guessing that the weight of purity was not yet 
 sufficient to outweigh the force of this trial, it 
 is no wonder, said he, if when the battles with 
 unclean spirits come upon me, I still feel the 
 flames of the fire, which I used to think of 
 less importance than the savage attacks of 
 demons, still raging against me. Since it is 
 a greater virtue and a grander grace to extin- 
 guish the inward lust of the flesh than by the 
 sign of the Lord 4 and the power of the might 
 of the Most High to subdue the wicked de- 
 mons which rush upon one from without, or 
 to drive them by invoking the Divine name 
 from the bodies which they have possessed. 
 So far Abbot Nesteros, finishing the account 
 of the true working of the gifts of grace ac- 
 companied us to the cell of the Elder Joseph 
 which was nearly six miles distant from 
 his, as we were eager for instruction in his 
 doctrine. 
 
 e., the sign of the cross. 
 
45° 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH. 
 
 ON FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 What Abbot Joseph asked us in the first instance. 
 
 The blessed Joseph, 1 whose instructions 
 and precepts are now to be set forth, and who 
 was one of the three whom we mentioned in 
 the first Conference,' 2 belonged to a most illus- 
 trious family, and was the chief man of his 
 city in Egypt, which was named Thmuis, 3 and 
 so was carefully trained in the eloquence 
 of Greece as well as Egypt, so that he could 
 talk admirably with us or with those who were 
 utterly ignorant of Egyptian, not as the others 
 did through an interpreter, but in his own 
 person. And when he found that we were 
 anxious for instruction from him, he first 
 inquired whether we were own brothers, and 
 when he heard that we were united in a tie of 
 spiritual and not carnal brotherhood, and that 
 from the first commencement of our renuncia- 
 tion of the world we had always been joined 
 together in an unbroken bond as well in our 
 travels, which we had both undertaken for the 
 sake of spiritual service, as also in the pur- 
 suits of the monastery, he began his discourse 
 as follows. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Discourse of the same elder on the untrustworthy sort of 
 friendship. 
 
 There are many kinds of friendship and 
 companionship which unite men in very differ- 
 ent ways in the bonds of love. For some a 
 previous recommendation makes to enter upon 
 an intercourse first of acquaintance and after- 
 wards even of friendship. In the case of 
 others some bargain or an agreement to give 
 and take something has joined them in the 
 bonds of love. Others a similarity and union 
 of business or science or art or study has united 
 
 1 Nothing further appears to be known of this Joseph than what 
 Cassian here states. 
 
 2 viz., the jirst of the Second Part of the Conferences, i.e., Con- 
 ference XI. 3 See on Conference XIV. c. iv. 
 
 in the chain of friendship, by which even 
 fierce souls become kindly disposed to each 
 other, so that those, who in forests and moun- 
 tains delight in robbery and revel in human 
 bloodshed, embrace and cherish the partners 
 of their crimes. But there is another kind of 
 love, where the union is from the instincts of 
 nature and the laws of consanguinity, whereby 
 those of the same tribe, wives and parents, 
 and brothers and children are naturally pre- 
 ferred to others, a thing which we find is the 
 case not only with mankind but with all 
 birds and beasts. For at the prompting of a 
 natural instinct they protect and defend their 
 offspring and their young ones so that often 
 they are not afraid to expose themselves to 
 danger and death for their sakes. Indeed 
 those kinds of beasts and serpents and birds, 
 which are cut off and separated from all others 
 by their intolerable ferocity or deadly poison, 
 as basilisks, unicorns and vultures, though 
 by their very look they are said to be danger- 
 ous to every one, yet among themselves they 
 remain peaceful and harmless owing to com- 
 munity of origin and fellow-feeling. But 
 we see that all these kinds of love of which 
 we have spoken, as they are common both to 
 the good and bad, and to beasts and serpents, 
 certainly cannot last for ever. For often sepa- 
 ration of place interrupts and breaks them off, 
 as well as forgetfulness from lapse of time, 
 and the transaction of affairs and business 
 and words. For as they are generally due to 
 different kinds of connexions either of gain, 
 or desires, or kinship, or business, so when 
 any occasion for separation intervenes they 
 are broken off. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 How friendship is indissoluble. 
 
 Among all these then there is one kind of 
 love which is indissoluble, where the union is 
 owing not to the favour of a recommendation, 
 or some great kindness or gifts, or the reason 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH. 
 
 451 
 
 of some bargain, or the necessities of nature, 
 but simply to similarity of virtue. This, I 
 say, is what is broken by no chances, what no 
 interval of time or space can sever or destroy, 
 and what even death itself cannot part. This 
 is true and unbroken love which grows by 
 means of the double perfection and goodness 
 of friends, and which, when once its bonds 
 have been entered, no difference of liking 
 and no disturbing opposition of wishes can 
 sever. But we have known many set on this 
 purpose, who though they had been joined 
 together in companionship out of their burn- 
 ing love for Christ, yet could not maintain it 
 continually and unbrokenly, because although 
 they relied on a good beginning for their 
 friendship, yet they did not with one and the 
 same zeal maintain the purpose on which they 
 had entered, and so there was between them a 
 sort of love only for a while, for it was not main- 
 tained by the goodness of both alike, but by the 
 patience of the one party, and so although it is 
 held to by the one with unwearied heroism, 
 yet it is sure to be broken by the pettiness of 
 the other. For the infirmities of those who 
 are somewhat cold in seeking the healthy con- 
 dition of perfection, however patiently they 
 may be borne by the strong, are yet not put 
 up with by those who are weaker themselves. 
 For they have implanted within them causes 
 of disturbance which do not allow them to be 
 at ease, just as those, who are affected by 
 bodily weakness, generally impute the deli- 
 cacy of their stomach and weak health to the 
 carelessness of their cooks and servants, and 
 however carefully their attendants may serve 
 them, yet nevertheless they ascribe the grounds 
 of their upset to those who are in good health, 
 as they do not see that they are really due to the 
 failure of their own health. Wherefore this, 
 as we said, is the sure and indissoluble union 
 of friendship, where the tie consists only in 
 likeness in goodness. For "the Lord maketh 
 men to be of one mind in an house." 1 And 
 therefore love can only continue undisturbed 
 in those in whom there is but one purpose and 
 mind to will and to refuse the same things. 
 And if you also wish to keep this unbroken, 
 you must be careful that having first got rid 
 of your faults, you mortify your own desires, 
 and with united zeal and purpose diligently 
 fulfil that in which the prophet specially de- 
 lights: "Behold how good and joyful a thing 
 it is for brethren to dwell together in unity." 2 
 Which should be taken of unity of spirit rather 
 than of place. For it is of no use for those 
 who differ in character and purpose to be 
 united in one dwelling, nor is it an hindrance 
 
 1 Ps. lxvii. (lxviii.) 7. 
 
 2 Ps. cxxxii. (cxxxiii.) 1. 
 
 for those who are grounded on equal goodness 
 to be separated by distance of place. For 
 with God the union of character, not of place, 
 joins brethren together in a common dwelling, 
 nor can unruffled peace ever be maintained 
 where difference of will appears. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A question whether anything that is really useful should 
 be performed even against a brother's wish. 
 
 Germanus: What then? If when one 
 party wants to do something which he sees is 
 useful and profitable according to the mind 
 of God, the other does not give his consent, 
 ought it to be performed even against the wish 
 of the brother, or should it be thrown on one 
 side as he wants ? 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The answer, how a lasting friendship can only exist among 
 those who are perfect. 
 
 Joseph : For this reason we said that the 
 full and perfect grace of friendship can only 
 last among those who are perfect and of equal 
 goodness, whose likemindedness and common 
 purpose allows them either never, or at any 
 rate hardly ever, to disagree, or to differ in 
 those matters which concern their progress in 
 the spiritual life. But if they begin to get 
 hot with eager disputes, it is clear that they 
 have never been at one in accordance with the 
 rule which we gave above. But because no 
 one can start from perfection except one who 
 has begun from the very foundation, and your 
 inquiring is not with regard to its greatness, 
 but as to how you can attain to it, I think it 
 well to explain to you, in a few words, the 
 rule for it and the sort of path along which 
 your steps should be directed, that you may 
 be able more easily to secure the blessing of 
 patience and peace. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 By what means union can be preserved unbroken. 
 
 The first foundation then, of true friend- 
 ship consists in contempt for worldly sub- 
 stance and scorn for all things that we possess. 
 For it is utterly wrong and unjustifiable if, 
 after the vanity of the world and all that is 
 in it has been renounced, whatever miserable 
 furniture remains is more regarded than what 
 is most valuable; viz., the love of a brother. 
 
45 2 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 The second is for each man so to prune his 
 own wishes that he may not imagine himself 
 to be a wise and experienced person, and so 
 prefer his own opinions to those of his neigh- 
 bour. The third is for him to recognize that 
 everything, even what he deems useful and 
 necessary, must come after the blessing of 
 love and peace. The fourth for him to realize 
 that he should never be angry for any reason 
 good or bad. The fifth for him to try to cure 
 any wrath which a brother may have conceived 
 against him however unreasonably, in the 
 same way that he would cure his own, know- 
 ing that the vexation of another is equally 
 bad for him, as if he himself were stirred 
 against another, unless he removes it, to the 
 best of his ability, from his brother's mind. 
 The last is what is undoubtedly generally 
 decisive in regard to all faults;, viz., that 
 he should realize daily that he is to pass 
 away from this world; as the realization of 
 this not only permits no vexation to linger in 
 the heart, but also represses all the motions 
 of lusts and sins of all kinds. Whoever then 
 has got hold of this, can neither suffer nor be 
 the cause of bitter wrath and discord. But 
 when this fails, as soon as he who is jealous 
 of love has little by little infused the poison 
 of vexation in the hearts of friends, it is cer- 
 tain that owing to frequent quarrels love will 
 gradually grow cool, and at sometime or other 
 he will part the hearts of the lovers, that have 
 been for a long while exasperated. For if one 
 is walking along the course previously marked 
 out, how can he ever differ from his friend, 
 for if he claims nothing for himself, he en- 
 tirely cuts off the first cause of quarrel (which 
 generally springs from trivial things and most 
 unimportant matters), as he observes to the 
 best of his power what we read in the Acts 
 of the Apostles on the unity of believers: 
 "But the multitude of believers was of one 
 heart and soul ; neither did any of them say 
 that any of the things which he possessed was 
 his own, but they had all things common." 1 
 Then how can any seeds of discussion arise 
 from him who serves not his own but his 
 brother's will, and becomes a follower of his 
 Lord and Master, who speaking in the cha- 
 racter 2 of man which He had taken, said: ''I 
 am not come to do Mine own will, but the 
 will of Him that sent Me ? " 3 But how can he 
 arouse any incitement to contention, who has 
 determined to trust not so much to his own 
 judgment as to his brother's decision, on his 
 own intelligence and meaning, in accordance 
 with his will either approving or disapproving 
 his discoveries, and fulfilling in the humility 
 
 1 Acts iv. 32. 
 3 S. John vi. 3S. 
 
 2 Ex persona. See note on VIII. xxxv. 
 
 of a pious heart these words from the Gospel : 
 "Nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou 
 wilt." 4 Or in what way will he admit any- 
 thing which grieves the brother, who thinks 
 that nothing is more precious than the bles- 
 sing of peace, and never forgets these words of 
 the Lord : " By this shall all men know that 
 ye are My disciples, that ye love one an- 
 other;" 5 for by this, as by a special mark, 
 Christ willed that the flock of His sheep 
 should be known in this world, and be sepa- 
 rated from all others by this stamp, so to 
 speak? But on what grounds will he endure 
 either to admit the rahcour of vexation in 
 himself or for it to remain in another, if his 
 firm decision is that there cannot be any good 
 ground for anger, as it is dangerous and 
 wrong, and that when his brother is angry with 
 him he cannot pray, in just the same way as 
 when he himself is angry with his brother, as 
 he ever keeps in an humble heart these words 
 of our Lord and Saviour: '"If thou bring thy 
 gift to the altar and there remember that thy 
 brother hath aught against thee, leave there 
 thy gift at the altar, and go thy way; first be 
 reconciled to thy brother, and then come and 
 offer thy gift." 6 For it will be of no use for 
 you to declare that you are not angry, and to 
 believe that you are fulfilling the command 
 Avhichsays: " Let not the sun go down upon 
 thy wrath ; " and : " Whosoever is angry with 
 his brother, shall be in danger of the judg- 
 ment," 7 if you are with obstinate heart disre- 
 garding the vexation of another which you 
 could smooth down by kindness on your part. 
 For in the same way you will be punished 
 for violating the Lord's command. For He 
 who said that you should not be angry with 
 another, said also that you should not disre- 
 gard the vexations of another, for it makes no 
 difference in the sight of God. '"Who willeth 
 all men to be saved, " 6 whether you destroy 
 yourself or someone else. Since the death of 
 any one is equally a loss to God, and at the 
 same time it is equally a gain to him to whom 
 all destruction is delightful, whether it is ac- 
 quired by your death or by the death of your 
 brother. Lastly, how can he retain even the 
 least vexation with his brother, who realizes 
 daily that he is presently to depart from this 
 world? 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 How nothing should be put before love, or after anger. 
 
 As then nothing should be put before love. 
 so on the other hand nothing should be put 
 
 4 S. Matt. xxvi. 39. 
 
 5 S. John xiii. 35. 
 
 6 S. Matt. v. 23, 24. 
 
 7 Eph. iv. 26; S. Matt. v. 22. 
 
 8 1 Tim. ii. 4. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH. 
 
 453 
 
 below rage and anger. For all things, how- 
 ever useful and necessary they seem, should 
 yet be disregarded that disturbing anger may 
 be avoided, and all things even which we 
 think are unfortunate should be undertaken 
 and endured that the calm of love and peace 
 may be preserved unimpaired, because we 
 should reckon nothing more damaging than 
 anger and vexation, and nothing more advan- 
 tageous than love. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 On what grounds a dispute can arise among spiritual persons. 
 
 For as our enemy separates brethren who 
 are still weak and carnal by a sudden burst 
 of rage on account of some trifling and earthly 
 matter, so he sows the seeds of discord even 
 between spiritual persons, on the ground of 
 some difference of thoughts,, from which cer- 
 tainly those contentions and strifes about 
 words, which the Apostle condemns, for the 
 most part arise : whereby consequently our 
 spiteful and malignant enemy sows discord 
 between brethren who were of one mind. For 
 these words of wise Solomon are true : " Con- 
 tention breeds hatred: but friendship will be 
 a defence to all who do not strive." * 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 How to get rid even of spiritual grounds of discord. 
 
 Wherefore for the preservation of lasting 
 and unbroken love, it is of no use to have 
 removed the first ground of discord, which 
 generally arises from frail and earthly things, 
 or to have disregarded all carnal things, and 
 to have permitted to our brethren an unre- 
 stricted share in everything which our needs 
 require, unless too we cut off in like manner 
 the second, which generally arises under the 
 guise of spiritual feelings ; and unless we gain 
 in everything humble thoughts and harmonious 
 wills. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 On the best tests of truth. 
 
 For I remember, that when my youthful 
 age suggested to me to cling to a partner, 
 thoughts of this sort often mingled with our 
 
 moral training and the Holy Scriptures, so 
 that we fancied that nothing could be truer 
 or more reasonable : but when we came to- 
 gether and began to produce our ideas, in 
 the general discussion which was held, some 
 things were first noted by the others as false 
 and dangerous, and then presently were con- 
 demned and pronounced by common consent 
 to be injurious; though before they had 
 seemed to shine as if with a light infused by 
 the devil, so that they would easily have 
 caused discord, had not the charge of the 
 Elders, observed like some divine oracle, re- 
 strained us from all strife, that charge ; namely, 
 whereby it was ordered by them almost with 
 the force of a law, that neither of us should 
 trust to his own judgments more than his 
 brother's, if he wanted never to be deceived 
 by the craft of the devil. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 How it is impossible for one who trusts to his own judgment 
 to escape being deceived by the devil's illusions. 
 
 For often it has been proved that what 
 the Apostle says really takes place. " For 
 Satan himself transforms himself into an 
 angel of light," 2 so that he deceitfully sheds 
 abroad a confusing and foul obscuration of the 
 thoughts instead of the true light of know- 
 ledge. And unless these thoughts are re- 
 ceived in a humble and gentle heart, and 
 kept for the consideration of some more expe- 
 rienced brother or approved Elder, and when 
 thoroughly sifted by their judgment, either 
 rejected or admitted by us, we shall be sure 
 to venerate in our thoughts an angel of dark- 
 ness instead of an angel of light, and be 
 smitten with a grievous destruction: an injury 
 which it is impossible for any one to avoid 
 who trusts in his own judgment, unless he 
 becomes a lover and follower of true humility 
 and with all contrition of heart fulfils what the 
 Apostle chiefly prays for: "If then there be 
 any consolation in Christ, if any comfort of 
 love, if any bowels of compassion, fulfil ye 
 my joy, that you be of one mind, having the 
 same love, being of one accord, doing nothing 
 by contention, neither by vainglory; but in 
 humility each esteeming others better than 
 themselves;" and this: " in honour preferring 
 one another," 3 that each may think more of 
 the knowledge and holiness of his partner, and 
 hold that the better part of true discretion is 
 to be found in the judgment of another rather 
 than in his own. 
 
 1 Prov. x. 12. 
 
 2 2 Cor. xi. 14. 
 
 3 Phil. ii. 1-3 ; Rom. xii. 10. 
 
454 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ! Why inferiors should not be despised in Conference. 
 
 For it often happens either by an illusion 
 of the devil or by the occurrence of a human 
 mistake (by which every man in this life is 
 liable to be deceived) that sometimes one 
 who is keener in intellect and more learned, 
 gets some wrong notion in his head, while he 
 who is duller in wits and of less worth, con- 
 ceives the matter better and more truly. And 
 therefore no one, however learned he may be, 
 should persuade himself in his empty vanity 
 that he cannot require conference with another. 
 For even if no deception of the devil blinds 
 his judgment, yet he cannot avoid the noxious 
 snares of pride and conceit. For who can 
 arrogate this to himself without great danger, 
 when the chosen vessel in whom, as he main- 
 tained, Christ Himself spoke, declares that he 
 went up to Jerusalem simply and solely for 
 this reason, that he might in a secret discus- 
 sion confer with his fellow-Apostles on the 
 gospel which he preached to the gentiles by 
 the revelation and co-operation of the Lord? 
 By which fact we are shown that we ought not 
 only by these precepts to preserve unanimity 
 and harmony, but that we need not fear any 
 crafts of the devil opposing us, or snares of his 
 illusions. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 How love does not only belong to God but is God. 
 
 Finally so highly is the virtue of love ex- 
 tolled that the blessed Apostle John declares 
 that it not only belongs to God but that it is 
 God, saying: ''God is love: he therefore that 
 abideth in love, abideth in God, and God in 
 him. " x For so far do we see that it is divine, 
 that we find that what the Apostle says is 
 plainly a living truth in us : " For the love of 
 God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy 
 Ghost Who dwelleth in us." 2 For it is the 
 same thing as if he said that God is shed 
 abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost Who 
 dwelleth in us : who also, when we know not 
 what we should pray for, "makes intercession 
 for us with groanings that cannot be uttered : 
 But He that searcheth the hearts knoweth 
 what the Spirit desireth, for He asketh for the 
 saints according: to God." 3 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 On the different grades of love. 
 
 It is possible then for all to show that love 
 which is called fa/dm}, of which the blessed 
 Apostle says : " While therefore we have time, 
 let us do good unto all men, but specially to 
 them that are of the household of faith." 4 
 And this should be shown to all men in 
 general to such an extent that we are actually 
 commanded by our Lord to yield it to our 
 enemies, for He says: "Love your enemies." 5 
 But didcdfotg, i.e., affection is shown to but 
 a few and those who are united to us by kin- 
 dred dispositions or by a tie of goodness; 
 though indeed affection seems to have many 
 degrees of difference. For in one way we love 
 our parents, in another our wives, in another 
 our brothers, in another our children, and there 
 is a wide difference in regard to the claims 
 of these feelings of affection, nor is the love of 
 parents towards their children always equal. 
 As is shown by the case of the patriarch Jacob, 
 who, though he was the father of twelve sons 
 and loved them all with a father's love, yet 
 loved Joseph with a deeper affection, as Scrip- 
 ture clearly shows: "But his brethren envied 
 him, because his father loved him ; " 6 evidently 
 not that that good man his father failed in 
 greatly loving the rest of his children, but that 
 in his affection he clung to this one, because he 
 was a type of the Lord, more tenderly and in- 
 dulgently. This also, we read, was very clearly 
 shown in the case of John the Evangelist, 
 where these words are used of him: "that 
 disciple whom Jesus loved, " ' though certainly 
 i He embraced all the other eleven, whom He 
 ! had chosen in the same way, with His special 
 I love, as this He shows also by the witness of 
 the gospel, where He says: "As I have loved 
 i you, so do ye also love one another; " of whom 
 elsewhere also it is said: "Loving His own 
 who were in the world, He loved them even 
 to the end. " 8 But this love of one in particu- 
 lar did not indicate any coldness in love for 
 the rest of the disciples, but only a fuller and 
 more abundant love towards the one, which his 
 prerogative of virginity and the purity of his 
 flesh bestowed upon him. And therefore it 
 is marked by exceptional treatment, as being 
 something more sublime, because no hateful 
 comparison with others, but a richer grace 
 of superabundant love singled it out. Some- 
 thing of this sort too we have in the character 
 of the bride in the Song of Songs, where she 
 isays: "Set in order love in me." 9 For this 
 
 1 i John iv. 16. 
 
 2 Rom. v. 5. 
 
 3 Rom. viii. 26, 27. 
 
 Gal. vi. 10. 
 S. Matt. v. 44. 
 
 Gen. xxxvii. 4. 
 7 S. John xiii. 23. 
 
 8 lb. ver. 34, 1. 
 
 9 Cant. ii. 4. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH. 
 
 455 
 
 is true love set in order, which, while it hates 
 no one, yet loves some still more by reason of 
 their deserving it, and which, while it loves 
 all in general, singles out for itself some from 
 those, whom it may embrace with a special 
 affection, and again among those, who are 
 the special and chief objects of its love, sin- 
 gles out some who are preferred to others in 
 affection. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Of those who only increase their own or their brother's 
 grievances by hiding them. 
 
 On the other hand we know (and O ! would 
 that we did not know) some of the brethren 
 who are so hard and obstinate, that when 
 they know that their own feelings are aroused 
 against their brother, or that their brother's 
 are against them, in order to conceal their 
 vexation of mind, which is caused by indig- 
 nation at the grievance of one or the other, go 
 apart from those whom they ought to smooth 
 down by humbly making up to them and 
 talking with them; and begin to sing some 
 verses of the Psalms. And these while they 
 fancy that they are softening the bitter thoughts 
 which have arisen in their heart, increase by 
 their insolent conduct what they could have 
 got rid of at once if they had been willing to 
 show more care and humility, for a well-timed 
 expression of regret would cure their own 
 feelings and soften their brother's heart. 
 For by that plan they nourish and cherish the 
 sin of meanness or rather of pride, instead of 
 stamping out all inducement to quarrelling, 
 and they forget the charge of the Lord which 
 says : " Whosoever is angry with his brother, 
 is in danger of the judgment; " and: " if thou 
 remember that thy brother hath aught against 
 thee, leave there thy gift before the altar, 
 and go thy way, first be reconciled to thy 
 brother, and then come and offer thy gift." 1 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 How it is that, if our brother has any grudge against us, the 
 gifts of our prayers are rejected by the Lord. 
 
 So far therefore is our Lord anxious that 
 we should not disregard the vexation of an- 
 other that He does not accept our offerings 
 if our brother has anything against us, i.e., 
 He does not allow prayers to be offered by us 
 to Him until by speedy amends we remove 
 from his (our brother's) mind the vexation 
 which he whether rightly or wrongly feels. 
 
 1 S. Matt. v. 22-24. 
 
 For He does not say: "if thy brother hath a 
 true ground for complaint against thee leave 
 thy gift at the altar, and go thy way, first be 
 reconciled to him;" but He says: "if thou 
 remember that thy brother hath aught against 
 thee," i.e., if there be anything however 
 trivial or small, owing to which your brother's 
 anger is roused against you, and this comes 
 back to your recollection by a sudden remem- 
 brance, you must know that you ought not to 
 offer the spiritual gift of your prayers until by 
 kindly amends you have removed from your 
 brother's heart the vexation arising from what- 
 ever cause. If then the words of the Gospel 
 bid us make satisfaction to those who are 
 angry for past and utterly trivial grounds of 
 quarrel, and those which have arisen from 
 the slightest causes, what will become of us 
 wretches who with obstinate hypocrisy dis- 
 regard more recent grounds of offence, and 
 those of the utmost importance, and due to 
 our own faults; and being puffed up with the 
 devil's own pride, as we are ashamed to humble 
 ourselves, deny that we are the cause of our 
 brother's vexation and in a spirit of rebellion 
 disdaining to be subject to the Lord's com- 
 mands, contend that they never ought to be 
 observed and never can be fulfilled? And so 
 it comes to pass that as we make up our 
 minds that He has commanded things which 
 are impossible and unsuitable, we- become, 
 to use the Apostle's expression, "not doers 
 but judges of the law." 2 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Of those who hold that patience should be shown to worldly 
 people rather than to the brethren. 
 
 This too should be bitterly lamented; 
 namely, that some of the brethren, when 
 angered by some reproachful words, if they 
 are besieged by the prayers of some one else 
 who wants to smooth them down, when they 
 hear that vexation ought not to be admitted 
 or retained against a brother, according to 
 what is written: " Whoever is angry with his 
 brother is in danger of the judgment; " and: 
 " Let not the sun go down upon your wrath," 3 
 instantly assert that if a heathen or one living 
 in the world had said or done this, it rightly 
 ought to be endured. But who could stand 
 a brother who was accessory to so great a 
 fault, or gave utterance to so insolent a 
 reproach with his lips! As if patience were to 
 be shown only to unbelievers and blasphem- 
 ers, and not to all in general, or as if anger 
 should be reckoned as bad when it is against 
 
 2 S. James iv. 11. 
 
 3 Eph. iv. 26. 
 
 I; 
 
456 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 a heathen, but good when it is against a 
 brother; whereas certainly the obstinate rage 
 of an angry soul brings about the same injury 
 to one's self whoever may be the subject against 
 whom it is aroused. But how terribly obsti- 
 nate, aye and senseless is it for them, owing 
 to the stupidity of their dull mind, not to be 
 able to discern the meaning of these words, for 
 it is not said : " Every one who is angry with a 
 stranger shall be in danger of the judgment," 
 which might perhaps according to their inter- 
 pretation except those who are partners of 
 our faith and life, but the word of the Gospel 
 most significantly expresses it by saying: 
 "Every one who is angry with his brother, 
 shall be in danger of the judgment." And so 
 though we ought according to the rule of truth 
 to regard every man as a brother, yet in this 
 passage one of the faithful and a partaker 
 of our mode of life is denoted by the title of 
 brother rather than a heathen. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Of those who pretend to patience but excite their brethren to 
 anger by their silence. 
 
 But what sort of a thing is this, that some- 
 times we fancy that we are patient because 
 when provoked we scorn to answer, but by 
 sullen silence or scornful motions and ges- 
 tures so mock at our angry brothers that by 
 our silent looks we provoke them to anger 
 more than angry reproaches would have ex- 
 cited them, meanwhile thinking that we are in 
 no way guilty before God, because we have 
 let nothing fall from our lips which could 
 brand us or condemn us in the judgment of 
 men. As if in the sight of God mere words, 
 and not mainly the will was called in fault, 
 and as if only the actual deed of sin, and not 
 also the wish and purpose, was reckoned as 
 wrong ; or as if it would be asked in the judg- 
 ment only what each one had done and not 
 what he also purposed to do. For it is not 
 only the character of the anger roused, but also 
 the purpose of the man who provokes it which 
 is bad, and therefore the true scrutiny of our 
 judge will ask, not how the quarrel was stirred 
 up but by whose fault it arose : for the pur- 
 pose of the sin, and not the way in which the 
 fault is committed must be taken into ac- 
 count. For what does it matter whether a 
 man kills a brother with a sword by himself, 
 or drives him to death by some fraud, when 
 it is clear that he is killed by his wiles and 
 crime? As if it were enough not to have 
 pushed a blind man down with one's own 
 hand, though he is equally guilty who scorned 
 to save him, when it was in his power, when 
 
 fallen and on the point of tumbling into the 
 ditch : or as if he alone were guilty who had 
 caught a man with the hand, and not also the 
 one who had prepared and set the trap for 
 him, or who would not set him free when he 
 might have done so. So then it is of no 
 good to hold one's tongue, if we impose 
 silence upon ourselves for this reason that 
 by our silence we may do what would have 
 been done by an outcry on our part, simu- 
 lating certain gestures by which he whom 
 we ought to have cured, may be made still 
 more angry, while we are commended for all 
 this, to his loss and damage : as if a man 
 were not for this very reason the more guilty, 
 because he tried to get glory for himself out 
 of his brother's fall. For such a silence 
 will be equally bad for both because while 
 it increases the vexation in the heart of 
 another, so it prevents it from being removed 
 from one's own: and against such persons the 
 prophet's curse is with good reason directed: 
 " Woe to him that giveth drink to his friend, 
 and presenteth his gall, and maketh him 
 drunk, that he may behold his nakedness. 
 He is filled with shame instead of glory." 1 
 And this too which is said of such people by 
 another: "For every brother will utterly sup- 
 plant, and every friend will walk deceitfully. 
 And a man shall mock his brother, and they 
 will not speak the truth, for they have bent 
 their tongue like a bow for lies and not for 
 truth." 2 But often a feigned patience excites 
 to anger more keenly than words, and, a 
 spiteful silence exceeds the most awful insults 
 in words, and the wounds of enemies are more 
 easily borne than the deceitful blandishment 
 of mockers, of which it is well said by the 
 prophet: "Their words are smoother than 
 oil, and yet they are darts:" and elsewhere 
 "the words of the crafty are soft: but they 
 smite within the belly:" to which this also 
 may be finely applied: "With the mouth he 
 speaks peace to his friend, but secretly he 
 layeth snares for him ; " with which however 
 the deceiver is rather deceived, for " if a man 
 prepares a net before his friend, it surrounds 
 his own feet; " and: "if a man digs a pit for 
 his neighbour, he shall fall into it himself." 8 
 Lastly when a great multitude had come with 
 swords and staves to take the Lord, none of 
 the murderers of the author of our life stood 
 forth as more cruel than he who advanced 
 before them all with a counterfeit respect and 
 salutation and offered a kiss of, feigned love; 
 to whom the Lord said: "Judas, betrayest thou 
 the Son of man with a kiss? " 4 i.e., the bitter- 
 
 1 Hab. ii. 15, 16. * Jer. ix. 4, 5. 
 
 3 Ps. liv. (lv.) 22 ; Prov. xxvi. 22 ; Jer.ix. S; Prov. xxix. 5 ; xxvi. 27. 
 
 4 S. Luke xxii. 48. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH. 
 
 457 
 
 ness of thy persecution and hatred has taken 
 as a cloke this which expresses the sweetness 
 of true love. More openly too and more ener- 
 getically does He emphasize the force of this 
 grief by the prophet, saying : " For if mine 
 enemy had cursed me, I would have borne it : 
 and if he who hated me had spoken great 
 things against me, I would have hid myself 
 from him. But it was thou, a man of one 
 mind, my guide, and my familiar friend: who 
 didst take sweet meats together with me : in 
 the house of God we walked with consent." 1 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Of those who fast out of rage. 
 
 There is too another evil sort of vexation 
 which would not be worth mentioning were 
 it not that we know it is allowed by some of 
 the brethren who, when they have been vexed 
 or enraged actually abstain persistently from 
 food, so that (a thing which we cannot men- 
 tion without shame) those who when they are 
 calm declare that they cannot possibly put off 
 their refreshment to the sixth or at most the 
 ninth hour, when they are filled with vexation 
 and rage do not feel fasts even for two days, 
 and support themselves, when exhausted by 
 such abstinence, by a surfeit of anger. Where- 
 in they are plainly guilty of the sin of sac- 
 rilege, as out of the devil's own rage they 
 endure fasts which ought specially to be of- 
 fered to God alone out of desire for humili- 
 ation of heart and purification from sin : 
 which is much the same as if they were to 
 offer prayers and sacrifices not to God but 
 to devils, and so be worthy of hearing this 
 rebuke of Moses: "They sacrificed to devils 
 and not to God ; to gods whom they knew 
 not." 2 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Oi the feigned patience of some who offer the other cheek 
 to bz smitten. 
 
 We are not ignorant also of another kind 
 of insanity, which we find in some of the breth- 
 ren under colour of a counterfeit patience, as 
 in this case it is not enough to have stirred 
 up quarrels unless they incite them with irri- 
 tating words so as to get themselves smitten, 
 and when they have been touched by the 
 slightest blow, at once they offer another 
 part of their body to be smitten, as if in this 
 way they could fulfil to perfection that com- 
 mand which says: "If a man smite thee on 
 
 1 Ps. liv. (lv.) 13-15. 
 
 2 Deut. xxxii. 17. 
 
 the right cheek, offer him the other also;" 3 
 while they totally ignore the meaning and 
 purpose of the passage. For they fancy 
 that they are practising evangelical patience 
 through the sin of anger, for the utter eradi- 
 cation of which not only was the exchange 
 of retaliation and the irritation of strife for- 
 bidden, but the command was actually given 
 us to mitigate the wrath of the striker by the 
 endurance of a double wrong. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 A question how if we obey the commands of Christ we can fail 
 of evangelical perfection. 
 
 Germanus: How can we blame one who 
 satisfies the command of the Gospel and Jiot 
 only does not retaliate, but is actually pre- 
 pared to have a double wrong offered to him ? 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 The answer that Christ looks not only at the action but also 
 at the will. 
 
 Joseph: As was said a little before, we 
 must look not only at the thing Avhich is 
 done, but also at the character of the mind 
 and the purpose of the doer. And therefore 
 if you weigh with a careful scrutiny of heart 
 what is done by each man and consider with 
 what mind it is done or from what feeling 
 it proceeds, you will see that the virtue of 
 patience and gentleness cannot possibly be 
 fulfilled in the opposite spirit, i.e., that of 
 impatience and rage. Since our Lord and 
 Saviour, when giving us a thorough lesson on 
 the virtue of patience and gentleness (i.e., 
 teaching us not only to profess it with our 
 lips, but to store it up in the inmost recesses 
 of the soul) gave us this summary of evange- 
 lical perfection, saying: "If any one smites 
 thee on thy right cheek, offer him the other 
 also" 4 (doubtless the "right" cheek is men- 
 tioned, as another "right" cheek cannot be 
 found except in the face of the inner man, so 
 to speak), as by this He desires entirely to 
 remove all incitement to anger from the deep- 
 est recesses of the soul, i.e., that if your 
 external right cheek has received a blow from 
 the striker, the inner man also humbly con- 
 senting may offer its right cheek to be smitten, 
 sympathizing with the suffering of the out- 
 ward man, and in a way submitting and sub- 
 jecting its own body to wrong from the striker, 
 that the inner man may not even silently be 
 
 3 S. Matt. v. 39. * Ibid. 
 
458 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 disturbed in itself at the blows of the outward 
 man. You see then that they are very far 
 from evangelical perfection, which teaches that 
 patience must be maintained, not in words, 
 but in inward tranquillity of heart, and which 
 bids us preserve it whatever evil happens, 
 that we may not only keep ourselves always 
 from disturbing anger, but also by submitting 
 to their injuries compel those, who are dis- 
 turbed by their own fault, to become calm, 
 when they have had their fill of blows; and so 
 overcome their rage by our gentleness. And 
 so also we shall fulfil these words of the 
 Apostle : " Be not overcome of evil, but over- 
 come evil with good." 1 And it is quite clear 
 that this cannot be fulfilled by those who utter 
 words of gentleness and humility in such a 
 spirit and rage that they not only fail to les- 
 sen the fire of wrath which has been kindled, 
 but rather make it blaze up the more fiercely 
 both in their own feelings and in those of 
 their enraged brother. But these, even if they 
 could in some way keep calm and quiet them- 
 selves, would yet not bear any fruits of right- 
 eousness, while they claim the glory of patience 
 on their part by their neighbour's loss, and 
 are thus altogether removed from that Apos- 
 tolic love which " Seeketh not her own," 2 but 
 the things of others. For it does not so desire 
 riches in such a way as to make profit for itself 
 out of one's neighbour's loss, nor does it wish 
 to gain anything if it involves the spoiling of 
 another. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 How he is the strong and vigorous man, who yields to the will 
 of another. 
 
 But you must certainly know that in general 
 he plays a stronger part who subjects his own 
 will to his brother's, than he who is found to 
 be the more pertinacious in defending and 
 clinging to his own decisions. For the former 
 by bearing and putting up with his neighbour 
 gains the character of being strong and vigor- 
 ous, while the latter gains that of being weak 
 and sickly, who must be pampered and petted 
 so that sometimes for the sake of his peace 
 and quiet it is a good thing to relax something 
 even in necessary matters. And indeed in this 
 he nee.d not fancy that he has lost anything of 
 his own perfection, though by yielding he has 
 given up something of his intended strictness, 
 but on the contrary he may be sure that he has 
 gained much more by his virtue of long-suffer- 
 ing and patience. For this is the Apostle's 
 command : " Ye who are strong should bear 
 the infirmities of the weak ; " and : " Bear ye 
 
 1 Rom. xii. 21. 
 
 1 Cor. xiii. 5. 
 
 one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of 
 Christ." 3 For a weak man will never support 
 a weak man, nor can one who is suffering in 
 the same way, bear or cure one in feeble 
 health, but one who is himself not subject 
 to infirmity brings remedies to one in weak 
 health. For it is rightly said to him : " Phy- 
 sician, heal thyself." 4 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 How the weak are harmful and cannot bear wrongs. 
 
 We must note too the fact that the nature of 
 the weak is always such that they are quick 
 and ready to offer reproaches and sow the 
 seeds of quarrels, while they themselves can- 
 not bear to be .touched by the shadow of the 
 very slightest wrong, and while they are riding 
 roughshod over us and flinging about wanton 
 charges, they are not able to bear even the 
 slightest and most trivial ones themselves. 
 And so according to the aforesaid opinion of 
 the Elders love cannot last firm and unbroken 
 except among men of the same purpose and 
 goodness. For at some time or other it is sure 
 to be broken, however carefully it may be 
 guarded by one of them. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 A question how he can be strong who does not always support 
 the weak. 
 
 Germ anus: How then can the patience of 
 a perfect man be worthy of praise if it cannot 
 always bear the w r eak? 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 The answer that the weak does not always allow himself to be 
 borne. 
 
 Joseph : I did not say that the virtue and 
 endurance of one who is strong and robust 
 would be overcome, but that the miserable 
 condition of the weak, encouraged by the toler- 
 ance of the perfect, and daily growing worse, 
 is sure to give rise to reasons on account of 
 which he himself ought no longer to be borne; 
 or else with a shrewd suspicion that the 
 patience of his neighbour shows up and sets 
 off his own impatience at some time or other 
 he chooses to make off rather than always to 
 be borne by the magnanimity of the other. 
 This then we think should be above all else 
 observed by those who want to keep the affec- 
 
 3 Rom. xv. 1 ; Gal. vi. 2. 
 
 S. Luke iv. 23. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH. 
 
 459 
 
 tion of their companions unimpaired; viz., 
 that first of all when provoked by any wrongs, 
 a monk should keep not only his lips but even 
 the depth of his breast unmoved: but if he 
 finds that they are even slightly disturbed, let 
 him keep himself in by entire silence, and 
 diligently observe what the Psalmist speaks 
 of: "I was troubled and spake nothing;" 
 and: "I said I will take heed to thy ways that 
 I offend not with my tongue. I have set a 
 guard to my mouth, when the sinner stood 
 against me. I was dumb and was humbled, 
 and kept silence from good things;" 1 and he 
 should not pay any heed to his present state, 
 nor give vent to what his violent rage suggests 
 and his exasperated mind expresses at the 
 moment, but should dwell on the grace of past 
 love or look forward in his mind to the re- 
 newal and restoration of peace, and contem- 
 plate it even in the very hour of rage, as if 
 it were sure presently to return. And while 
 he is reserving himself for the delight of 
 harmony soon to come, he will not feel the bit- 
 terness of the present quarrel and will easily 
 make such answers that, when love is restored, 
 he will not be able to accuse himself as guilty 
 or be blamed by the other; and thus he will 
 fulfil these words of the prophet : " In wrath 
 remember mercy. " 2 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 How anger should be repressed. 
 
 We ought then to restrain every movement 
 of anger and moderate it under the direction 
 of discretion, that we may not by blind rage 
 be hurried into that which is condemned by 
 Solomon : " The wicked man expends all his 
 anger, but the wise man dispenses it bit by 
 bit," 3 i.e., a fool is inflamed by the passion 
 of his anger to avenge himself; but a wise 
 man, by the ripeness of his counsel and mode- 
 ration little by little diminishes it, and gets 
 rid of it. Something of the same kind too 
 is this which is said by the Apostle : " Not 
 avenging yourselves, dearly beloved : but give 
 place to wrath," 4 i.e., do not under the com- 
 pulsion of wrath proceed to vengeance, but 
 give place to wrath, i.e., do not let your hearts 
 be confined in the straits of impatience and 
 cowardice so that, when a fierce storm of 
 passion rises, you cannot endure it; but be 
 ye enlarged in your hearts, receiving the ad- 
 verse waves of anger in the wide gulf of that 
 love which "suffereth all things, beareth all 
 
 1 Ps. lxxvi. (lxxvii.) 5; xxxviii. (xxxix.) 2, 3. 3 Prov. xxix. 11. E 1 Cor. xiii. 7. 7 Prov. xii. 16. 
 
 2 Hab. iii. 2. * Rom. xii. 19. ° Eccl. vii. 9 ; Prov. xxv. 8. 8 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 32. 
 
 things ; " 5 and so your mind will be enlarged 
 with wide long-suffering and patience, and 
 will have within it safe recesses of counsel, 
 in which the foul smoke of anger will be 
 received and be diffused and forthwith vanish 
 away; or else the passage may be taken in 
 this way: we give place to wrath, as often 
 as we yield with humble and tranquil mind 
 to the passion of another, and bow to the 
 impatience of the passionate, as if we ad- 
 mitted that we deserved any kind of wrong. 
 But those who twist the meaning of the per- 
 fection of which the Apostle speaks so as to 
 make out that those give place to anger, who 
 go away from a man in a rage, seem to me 
 not to cut off but rather to foment the incite- 
 ment to quarrelling, for unless a neighbour's 
 wrath is overcome at once by amends being 
 humbly made, a man provokes rather than 
 avoids it by his flight. And there is some- 
 thing like this that Solomon says: "Be not 
 hasty in thy spirit to be wroth, for anger 
 reposes in the bosom of fools;" and: "Be 
 not quick to rush into a quarrel, lest thou 
 repent thereof at the last." 6 For he does 
 not blame a hasty exhibition of quarrelling 
 and anger in such a way as to praise a tardy 
 one. In the same way too must this be taken : 
 " A fool declares his anger in the very same 
 hour, but a prudent man hides his shame." 7 
 For he does not lay it down that a shameful 
 outburst of anger ought to be hidden by wise 
 men in such a way that while he blames a 
 speedy outburst of anger he fails to forbid 
 a tardy one, as certainly, if owing to human 
 weakness it does burst forth, he means that 
 it should be hidden for this reason, that 
 while for the moment it is wisely covered 
 up, it may be destroyed forever. For the 
 nature of anger is such that when it is given 
 room it languishes and perishes, but if openly 
 exhibited, it burns more and more. The 
 hearts then should be enlarged and opened 
 wide, lest they be confined in the narrow 
 straits of cowardice, and be filled with the 
 swelling surge of wrath, and so we become 
 unable to receive what the prophet calls the 
 "exceeding broad" commandment of God in 
 our narrow heart, or to say with the prophet : 
 " I have run the way of thy commandments 
 for thou hast enlarged my heart." 8 For that 
 long-suffering is wisdom we are taught by 
 very clear passages of Scripture : for " a man 
 who is long-suffering is great in prudence ; 
 but a coward is very foolish." 9 And there- 
 fore Scripture says of him who to his credit 
 asked the gift of wisdom from the Lord : 
 "God gave Solomon wisdom and prudence 
 
 9 Prov. xiv. 29. 
 
460 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 exceeding much, and largeness of heart as 
 the sand of the sea for multitude." * 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 How friendships entered upon by conspiracy cannot be lasting 
 ones. 
 
 This too has been often proved by many 
 experiments; viz., that those who entered 
 the bonds of friendship from a beginning of 
 conspiracy, cannot possibly preserve their har- 
 mony unbroken; either because they tried 
 to keep it not out of their desire for perfec- 
 tion nor because of the sway of Apostolic 
 
 love, but out of earthly love, and because of 
 their wants and the bonds of their agreement; 
 or else because that most crafty foe of ours 
 hurries them on the more speedily to break 
 the chains of their friendship in order that 
 he may make them breakers of their oath. 
 This opinion then of the most prudent men 
 is most certainly established; viz., that true 
 harmony and undivided union can only exist 
 among those whose life is pure, and who are 
 men of the same goodness and purpose. 
 
 Thus much the blessed Joseph discoursed 
 in his spiritual talk on friendship, and fired 
 us with a more ardent desire to preserve the 
 love of our fellowship as a lasting one. 
 
 XVII. 
 THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH. 
 
 ON MAKING PROMISES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Of the vigils which we endured. 
 
 When then the previous Conference was 
 ended, and the intervening silence of night 
 as well, as we had been conducted by the holy 
 Abbot Joseph to a separate cell for the sake 
 of quiet, but had passed the whole night with- 
 out sleep (since owing to his words a fire was 
 raging in our hearts), we came forth from the 
 cell and retired about a hundred yards from it 
 and sat down in a secluded spot. And so as 
 an opportunity was given by the shades of 
 night for secret and familiar converse to- 
 gether, as we sat there Abbot Germanus 
 groaned heavily. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Of the anxiety of Abbot Germanus at the recollection of our 
 promise. 
 
 What are we doing? said he. For we see 
 that we are involved in a great difficulty and 
 are in an evil plight, as reason itself and the 
 life of the saints is effectually teaching us 
 what is the best thing for our progress in the 
 spiritual life, and yet our promise given to the 
 Elders does not allow us to choose what is 
 helpful. For we might, by the examples of 
 
 1 1 Kings iv. 29. 
 
 such great men, be formed for a more perfect 
 life and aim, were it not that the terms of 
 our promise compelled us to return at once 
 to the monastery. But if Ave return thither, 
 we shall never get another chance of coming 
 here again. But if we stay here and choose 
 to carry out our wishes, what becomes of the 
 faith of the oath which we are aware that we 
 gave to our Elders promising a speedy return; 
 that we might be allowed to make a hasty 
 round of the monasteries and saints of this 
 province? And when in this state of tumult 
 we could not make up our minds what we 
 ought to decide on the state of our salvation 
 we simply testified by our groans the hard 
 fate of our condition, upbraiding the audacity 
 of our impudence, and yet hating the shame 
 which was natural to us, weighed down by 
 which we could not in any other way resist 
 the prayers of those who kept us back against 
 our profit and purpose, except by the promise 
 of a speedy return, as we wept indeed that 
 we laboured under the fault of that shame, 
 of which it is said "There is a shame that 
 bringeth sin." 2 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 My ideas on this subject. 
 
 Then I replied: The counsel or rather the 
 authority of the Elder to whom we ought to 
 
 2 Prov. xx vi. 11. 
 
SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH. 
 
 461 
 
 refer our anxieties would make a short way 
 out of our difficulties, and whatever is decided 
 by his verdict, may, like a divine and heavenly 
 reply, put an end to all our troubles. And 
 we need not have any doubt of what is given 
 to us by the Lord through the lips of this 
 Elder, both for the sake of his merits and for 
 our own faith. For by His gift believers have 
 often obtained saving counsel from unworthy 
 people, and unbelievers from saints, as the 
 Lord grants this either on account of the 
 merit of those who answer, or on account of 
 the faith of those who ask advice. And so 
 the holy Abbot Germanus caught eagerly at 
 these words as if I had uttered them not of 
 myself but at the prompting of the Lord, and 
 when we had waited a little for the coming 
 of the Elder and the approaching hour of the 
 nocturnal service, after we had welcomed him 
 with the usual greeting and finished reciting 
 the right number of Psalms and prayers, we 
 sat down again as usual on the same mats on 
 which we had settled ourselves to sleep. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Abbot Joseph's question and our 'answer on the origin of our 
 anxiety. 
 
 Then the venerable Joseph saw that we 
 were in rather low spirits, and, guessing that 
 this was not the case without reason, addressed 
 us in these words of the patriarch Joseph: 
 " Why are your faces sad today ? " 1 to whom 
 we answered: We are not like those bond 
 slaves of Pharaoh who have seen a dream and 
 there is none to interpret it, but I admit that 
 we have passed a sleepless night and there 
 is no one to lighten the weight of our troubles 
 unless the Lord may remove them by your 
 wisdom. Then he, who recalled the excel- 
 lence of the patriarch both by his merits and 
 name, said: Does not the cure of man's per- 
 plexities come from the Lord? Let them 
 be brought forward: for the Divine Compas- 
 sion is able to give a remedy for them by 
 means of our advice according to your faith. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The explanation of Abbot Germanus why we wanted to stay 
 in Egypt, and were drawn back to Syria. 
 
 To this Germanus: We used to think, said 
 he, that we should go back to our monastery 
 
 of your holiness, and that after our return 
 we should follow, though with but a feeble 
 rivalry, what we had learnt from your teach- 
 ing. For this our love for our Elders led us 
 to promise them, while we fancied that we 
 could in some degree follow in that monastery 
 your sublime life and doctrine. Wherefore 
 as we thought that by this means all joy would 
 be bestowed upon us, so on the other hand 
 we are overwhelmed with intolerable grief, as 
 we find that we cannot possibly obtain in this 
 way what we know to be good for us. On 
 both sides then we are now hemmed in. For 
 if we want to keep our promise which we made 
 in the presence of all the brethren in the cave 
 where our Lord Himself shone forth from His 
 chamber in the Virgin's womb, 2 and which 
 He Himself witnessed, we shall incur the 
 greatest loss in our spiritual life. But if we 
 ignore our promise and stay in this district, 
 and choose to consider that oath of ours as 
 of less importance than our perfection, we are 
 afraid of the awful dangers of falsehood and 
 perjury. But not even by this plan can we 
 lighten our burdens; viz., by fulfilling the 
 terms of our oath by a very hasty return, and 
 then coming back again as quickly as possible 
 to these parts. For although even a small 
 delay is dangerous and hurtful for those who 
 are aiming at goodness and advance in spiri- 
 tual things, yet still we would keep our faith 
 and promise, though by an unwilling return, 
 were it not that we felt sure that we should be 
 so tightly bound down both by the authority 
 and also by the love of the Elders, that we 
 should henceforth have no opportunity at all 
 to come back again to this place. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Abbot Joseph's question whether we got more good in Egypt 
 than in Syria. 
 
 To this the blessed Joseph, after a short 
 silence : Are you sure, said he, that you can 
 get more profit in spiritual matters in this 
 country? 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The answer on the difference of customs in the two countries. 
 
 Germanus : Although we ought to be most 
 grateful for the teaching of those men who 
 taught us from our youth up to attempt great 
 things, and, by giving us a taste of their ex- 
 
 abundantly filled not only with spiritual joy ' cellence, implanted in our hearts a splendid 
 but also with what is profitable by the sight thirst for perfection, yet if any reliance is to 
 
 1 Gen. xl. j. 
 
 2 Compare on the Institutes IV. c. xxxi. 
 
462 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 be placed on our judgment, we cannot draw 
 any comparison between these customs and 
 those which we learnt there, so as to hold our 
 tongues about the inimitable purity of your 
 life, which we believe is granted to you not 
 only owing to the concentration of your mind 
 and aim, but also owing to the aid and assist- 
 ance of the place itself. Wherefore we do 
 not doubt that for the following of your grand 
 perfection this instruction which is given to 
 us is not enough by itself, unless we have also 
 the help of the life, and a long course of in- 
 struction somewhat dissolves the coldness of 
 our heart by daily training. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 How those who are perfect ought not to make any promises 
 absolutely, and whether decisions can be reversed without 
 sin. 
 
 Joseph: It is good indeed and right and 
 altogether in accordance with our profession, 
 for us effectually to perform what we decided 
 to do in the case of any promise. Wherefore 
 a monk ought not to make any promise hastily, 
 lest he may be forced to do what he incau- 
 tiously promised, or if he is kept back by 
 consideration of a sounder view, appear as a 
 breaker of his promise. But because at the 
 present moment our purpose is to treat not so 
 much of a state of health as of the cure of 
 sickness we must with salutary counsel con- 
 sider not what you ought to have done in the 
 first instance, but how you can escape from 
 the rocks of this perilous shipwreck. When 
 then no chains impede us and no conditions 
 restrict us, in the case of a comparison of 
 good things, if a choice is proposed, that 
 which is most advantageous should be pre- 
 ferred: but when some detriment and loss 
 stands in the way, in a comparison of things 
 to our hurt, that should be sought which 
 exposes us to the smallest loss. Further, as 
 your assertion shows, when your heedless 
 promise has brought you to this state that in 
 either case some serious loss and inconveni- 
 ence must result to you, the will in choosing 
 should incline to that side which involves a 
 loss that is more tolerable, or can be more 
 easily made up for by the remedy of making 
 amends. If then you think that you will get 
 more good for your spirit by staying here than 
 what accrued to you from your life in that 
 monastery, and that the terms of your promise 
 cannot be fulfilled without the loss of great 
 good, it is better for you to undergo the loss 
 from a falsehood and an unfulfilled promise 
 (as it is done once for' all, and need not any 
 
 longer be repeated or be the cause of other 
 sins) than for you to incur that loss, through 
 which you say that your state of life would be- 
 come colder, and which would affect you with 
 a daily and unceasing injury. For a careless 
 promise is changed in such a way that it may 
 be pardoned or indeed praised, if it is turned 
 into a better path, nor need we take it as a 
 failure in consistency, but as a correction of 
 rashness, whenever a promise that was faulty 
 is corrected. And all this may be proved by 
 most certain witness from Scripture, that for 
 many the fulfilment of their promise has led 
 to death, and on the other hand that for many 
 it has been good and profitable to have re- 
 fused it. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 How it is often better to break one's engagements than to 
 fulfil them. 
 
 And both these points are very clearly 
 shown by the cases of S. Peter the Apostle 
 and Herod. For the former, because he de- 
 parted from his expressed determination which 
 he had as it were confirmed with an oath 
 saying "Thou shalt never wash my feet," 1 
 gained an immortal partnership with Christ, 
 whereas he would certainly have been cut off 
 from the grace of this blessedness, if he had 
 clung obstinately to his word. But the latter, 
 by clinging to the pledge of his ill-considered 
 oath, became the bloody murderer of the 
 Lord's forerunner, and through the vain fear 
 of perjury plunged himself into condemna- 
 tion and the punishment of everlasting death. 
 In everything then we must consider the end, 
 and must according to it direct our course and 
 aim, and if when some wiser counsel super- 
 venes, we see it diverging to the worse part, it 
 is better to discard the unsuitable arrange- 
 ment, and to come to a better mind rather 
 than to cling obstinately to our engagements 
 and so become involved in worse sins. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Our question about our fear of the oath which we gave in 
 the monastery in Syria. 
 
 Germanus : In so far as it concerns our 
 desire, which we undertook to carry out for 
 the sake of spiritual profit, we were hoping to 
 be edified by continual intercourse with you. 
 For if we were to return to our monastery it is 
 certain that we should not only fail of so 
 sublime a purpose, but that we should also 
 
 1 S. John xiii. 8. 
 
SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH. 
 
 463 
 
 suffer grievous loss from the mediocrity of the 
 manner of life there. But that command of 
 the gospel frightens us terribly: "Let your 
 speech be yea, yea, nay, nay : but whatsoever 
 is more than these, is from the evil one." 1 
 For we hold that we cannot compensate for 
 transgressing so important a command by any 
 righteousness, nor can that finally turn out 
 well which has once been started with a bad 
 beefinnina:. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The answer that we must take into account the purpose of the 
 doer rather than the execution of the business. 
 
 Joseph: In every case, as we said, we must 
 look not at the progress of the work but at 
 the intention of the worker, nor must we in- 
 quire to begin with what a man has done, but 
 with what purpose, so that we may find that 
 some have been condemned for those deeds 
 from which good has afterwards arisen, and 
 on the other hand that some have arrived by 
 means of acts in themselves reprehensible at I 
 the height of righteousness. And in the case 
 of the former the good result of their actions 
 was of no avail to them as they took the mat- 
 ter in and with an evil purpose, and wanted 
 to bring about — not the good which actually 
 resulted, but something of the opposite cha- 
 racter; nor was the bad beginning injurious to 
 the latter, as he put up with the necessity of 
 a blameworthy start, not out of disregard for 
 God, or with the purpose of doing wrong, but 
 with an eye to a needful and holy end. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 How a fortunate issue will be of no avail to evil doers, while 
 bad deeds wilV not injure good men. 
 
 And that we may make these statements 
 clear by instances from Holy Scripture, what 
 could be brought about that was more salu- 
 tary and more to the good of the whole world, 
 than the saving remedy of the Lord's Passion? 
 And yet it was not only of no advantage, but 
 was actually to the disadvantage of the traitor 
 by whose means it is shown to have been 
 brought about, so that it is absolutely said of 
 him: "It were good for that man if he had 
 never been born." 2 For the fruits of his 
 labour will not be repaid to him according to 
 the actual result, but according to what he 
 wanted to do, and believed that he would 
 
 1 S. Matt. v. 37. 
 
 2 S. Matt. xxvi. 24. 
 
 accomplish. And again, what could there be 
 more culpable than craft and deceit shown 
 even to a stranger, not to mention one's 
 brother and father? And yet the patriarch 
 Jacob not only met with no condemnation 
 or blame for such things but was actually 
 dowered with the everlasting heritage of the 
 blessing. And not without reason, for the 
 last mentioned desired the blessing destined 
 for the first-born not out of a greedy desire 
 for present gain but because of his faith in 
 everlasting sanctification; while the former 
 (Judas) delivered the Redeemer of all to 
 death, not for the sake of man's salvation, 
 but from the sin of covetousness. And there- 
 fore in each case the fruits of their action are 
 reckoned according to the intention of the 
 mind and purpose of the will, according to 
 which the object of the one was not to work 
 fraud, nor was that of the other to work sal- 
 vation. For justly is there repayment to each 
 man as the recompense of reward, for what he 
 conceived in the first instance in his mind, 
 and not for what resulted from it either well 
 or badly, against the wish of the worker. 
 And so the most just Judge regarded him who 
 ventured on such a falsehood as excusable 
 and indeed worthy of praise, because without 
 it he could not secure the blessing of the first- 
 born; and that should not be reckoned as a 
 sin, which arose from desire of the blessing. 
 Otherwise the aforesaid patriarch would have 
 been not only unfair to his brother, but also 
 a cheat of his father and a blasphemer, if 
 there had been any other way by which he 
 could secure the gift of that blessing, and 
 he had preferred to follow this which would 
 damage and injure his brother. You see then 
 that with God the inquiry is not into the 
 carrying out of the act, but into the purpose 
 of the mind. With this preparation then for 
 a return to the question proposed (for which 
 all this has been premised) I want you first 
 to tell me for what reason you bound your- 
 selves in the fetters of that promise. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Our answer as to the reason which demanded an oath from us. 
 
 Germanus: The first reason, as we said, 
 was that we were afraid of vexing our Elders 
 and resisting their orders; the second was 
 that we very foolishly believed that, if we had 
 learnt from you anything perfect or splendid 
 to hear or look at, when we returned to the 
 monastery, we should be able to perform it. 
 
464 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The discourse of the Elder showing how the plan of action 
 may be changed without fault provided that one keeps to 
 the carrying out of a good intention. 
 
 Joseph : As we premised, the intent of the 
 mind brings a man either reward or condem- 
 nation, according to this passage: "Their 
 thoughts between themselves accusing or also 
 defending one another, in the day when God 
 shall judge the secrets of men ; " and this too : 
 " But I am coming to gather together their 
 works and thoughts together with all nations 
 and tongues." 1 Wherefore it was, as I see, 
 from a desire for perfection that you bound 
 yourselves with the chain of these oaths, as 
 you then thought that by this plan it could be 
 gained, while now that a riper judgment has 
 supervened, you see that you cannot by this 
 means scale its heights. And so any departure 
 from that arrangement, which may seem to 
 have happened, will be no hindrance, if only 
 no change in that first purpose follows. For a 
 change of instrument does not imply a deser- 
 tion of the work, nor does the choice of a 
 shorter and more direct road argue laziness 
 on the path of the traveller. And so in this 
 matter an improvement in a short-sighted 
 arrangement is not to be reckoned a breach of 
 a spiritual promise. For whatever is done out 
 of the love of God and desire for goodness, 
 which has "promise of the life that now is 
 and of that which is to come," 2 even though 
 it may appear to commence with a hard and 
 adverse beginning, is most worthy, not only 
 of no blame, but actually of praise. And 
 therefore the breaking of a careless promise 
 will be no hindrance, if in every case the end, 
 i.e., the proposed aim at goodness, be main- 
 tained. For we do all for this reason, that 
 we may be able to show to God a clean heart, 
 and if the attainment of this is considered to 
 be easier in this country the alteration of the 
 agreement extracted from you will be no hin- 
 drance to you, if only the perfection of that 
 purity for the sake of which your promise was 
 originally made, be the sooner secured accord- 
 ins: to the Lord's will. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A question whether it can be without sin that our knowledge 
 affords to weak brethren an opportunity for lying. 
 
 Germanus : As far as the force of the words 
 which have been reasonably and carefully 
 considered, is concerned, our scruple about 
 our promise would have easily been removed 
 
 1 Rom. ii. 15, 16; Is. Ixvi. iS 
 
 1 Tim. iv. 8. 
 
 from us were it not that we were terribly 
 alarmed lest by this example an opportunity 
 for lying might be offered to certain weaker 
 brethren, if they knew that the faith of an 
 agreement could be .in any way lawfully 
 broken, whereas this very thing is forbidden 
 in such vigorous and threatening terms by the 
 prophet when he says: "Thou shalt destroy 
 all those who utter a lie;" and: "the mouth 
 that speaketh a lie, shall slay the soul." 3 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The answer that Scripture truth is not to be altered on account 
 of an offence given to the weak. 
 
 Joseph : Occasions and opportunities for de- 
 stroying themselves cannot possibly be want- 
 ing to those who are on the road to ruin, or 
 rather who are anxious to destroy themselves ; 
 nor are those passages of Scripture to be re- 
 jected and altogether torn out of the volume, 
 by which the perversity of heretics is en- 
 couraged, or the unbelief of the Jews increased, 
 or the pride of heathen wisdom offended; but 
 surely they are to be piously believed, and 
 firmly held, and preached according to the 
 rule of truth. And therefore we should not, 
 because of another's unbelief, reject the 
 olxopoptag, i.e., the "economy" of the prophets 
 and saints which Scripture relates, lest while 
 we are thinking that we ought to condescend 
 to their infirmities, we stain ourselves with 
 the sin not only of lying but of sacrilege. 
 But, as we said, we ought to admit these 
 according to the letter, and explain how 
 they were rightly done. But for those who 
 are wrongly disposed, the opening for lies 
 will not be blocked up by this means, if we 
 are trying either altogether to deny or to 
 explain away by allegorical interpretations 
 the truth of those things which we are going 
 to bring forward or have already brought for- 
 ward. For how will the authority of these 
 passages injure them if their corrupt will is 
 alone sufficient to lead them to sin? » 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 How the saints have profitably employed a lie like hellebore. 
 
 And so we ought to regard a lie and to em- 
 ploy it as if its nature were that of hellebore; 
 which is useful if taken when some deadly 
 disease is threatening, but if taken without 
 being required by some great danger is the 
 cause of immediate death. For so also we 
 
 3 Ps. v. 7; Wisd. i. n. 
 
SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH. 
 
 465 
 
 read that holy men and those most approved 
 by God employed lying, so as not only to 
 incur no guilt of sin from it, but even to 
 attain the greatest goodness; and if deceit 
 could confer glory on them, what on the other 
 hand would the truth have brought them but 
 condemnation? Just as Rahab, of whom 
 Scripture gives a record not only of no good 
 deed but actually of unchastity, yet simply for 
 the lie, by means of which she preferred to 
 hide the spies instead of betraying them, had 
 it vouchsafed to her to be joined with the 
 people of God in everlasting blessing. But if 
 she had preferred to speak the truth and to 
 regard the safety of the citizens, there is no 
 doubt that she and all her house would not 
 have escaped the coming destruction, nor 
 would it have been vouchsafed to her to be 
 inserted in the progenitors of our Lord's 
 nativity, 1 and reckoned in the list of the 
 patriarchs, and through her descendants that 
 followed, to become the mother of the Saviour 
 of all. Again Dalila, who to provide for the 
 safety of her fellow citizens betrayed the truth 
 she had discovered, obtained in exchange 
 eternal destruction, and has left to all men 
 nothing but the memory of her sin. When 
 then any grave danger hangs on confession of 
 the truth, then we must take to lying as a 
 refuge, yet in such a way as to be for our sal- 
 vation troubled by the guilt of a humbled con- 
 science. But where there is no call of the 
 utmost necessity present, there a lie should 
 be most carefully avoided as if it were some- 
 thing deadly: just as we said of a cup of 
 hellebore which is indeed useful if it is only 
 taken in the last resort when a deadly and in- 
 evitable disease is threatening, while if it is 
 taken when the body is in a state of sound and 
 rude health, its deadly properties at once go 
 to find out the vital parts. And this was 
 clearly shown of Rahab of Jericho, and the 
 patriarch Jacob ; the former of whom could 
 only escape death by means of this remedy, 
 while the latter could not secure the blessing 
 of the first-born without it. For God is not 
 only the Judge and inspector of our words and 
 actions, but He also looks into their purpose 
 and aim. And if He sees that anything has 
 been done or promised by some one for the 
 sake of eternal salvation and shows insight 
 into Divine contemplation, even though it may 
 appear to men to be hard and unfair, yet He 
 looks at the inner goodness of the heart and 
 regards the desire of the will rather than the 
 actual words spoken, because He must take 
 into account the aim of the work and the dis- 
 position of the doer, whereby, as was said 
 
 1 Cf. S. Matt. i. 5. 
 
 above, one man may be justified by means of 
 a lie, while another may be guilty of a sin 
 of everlasting death by telling the truth. To 
 which end the patriarch Jacob also had regard 
 when he was not afraid to imitate the hairy 
 appearance of his brother's body by wrapping 
 himself up in skins, and to his credit ac- 
 quiesced in his mother's instigation of a lie 
 for this object. For. he saw that in this way 
 there would be bestowed on him greater gains 
 of blessing and righteousness than by keep- 
 ing to the path of simplicity: for he did not 
 doubt that the stain of this lie would at once 
 be washed away by the flood of the paternal 
 blessing, and would speedily be dissolved 
 like a little cloud by the breath of the Holy 
 Spirit; and that richer rewards of merit would 
 be bestowed on him by means of this dissimu- 
 lation which he put on than by means of the 
 truth, which was natural to him. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 An objection that only those men employed lies with impunity, 
 who lived under the law. 
 
 Germanus : It is no wonder that these 
 schemes were properly employed in the Old 
 Testament, and that some holy men laudably 
 or at any rate venially told lies, as we see 
 that many worse things were permitted to them 
 owing to the rude character of the times. For 
 why should we wonder that when the blessed 
 David was fleeing from Saul, in answer to the 
 inquiry of Abimelech the priest who said : 
 "Why art thou alone, and is no man with 
 thee?" he replied as follows: "The king 
 hath commanded me a business, and said, 
 Let no man know the thing for which thou art 
 sent by me, for I have appointed my servants 
 to such and such a place ; and again : " Hast 
 thou here at hand a spear or a sword, for I 
 brought not my own sword nor my own weapon 
 with me, for the king's business required 
 haste;" or this, when he was brought to 
 Achish king of Gath, and feigned himself 
 mad and frantic, "and changed his counte- 
 nance before them, and slipped down between 
 their hands ; and stumbled against the doors 
 of the gate and his spittle ran down on his 
 beard ; " 2 when they were even allowed to en- 
 joy crowds of wives and concubines, and no 
 sin was on this account imputed to them, and 
 when moreover they often shed the blood of 
 their enemies with their own hand, and this 
 was thought not only worthy of no blame, but 
 actually praiseworthy? And all these things 
 
 2 1 Sam. xxi. 1, 2, 8, 13. 
 
466 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 we see by the light of the gospel are utterly 
 forbidden, so that not one of them can be 
 done without great sin and guilt. And in the 
 same way we hold that no lie can be employed 
 by any one, I will not say rightly, but not even 
 venially, however it may be covered with the 
 colour of piety, as the Lord says : " Let your 
 speech be yea, yea, nay, nay : but whatsoever 
 is more than these is of the evil one;" and 
 the Apostle also agrees with this: "And lie 
 not one to another. " x 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The answer, that leave to lie, which was not even granted under 
 the old Covenant, has rightly been taken by many. 
 
 Joseph: All liberty in the matter of wives 
 and many concubines, as the end of time 
 is approaching and the multiplying of the 
 human race completed, ought rightly to be 
 cut off by evangelical perfection, as being no 
 longer necessary. For up to the coming of 
 Christ it was well that the blessing of the 
 original sentence should be in full vigour, 
 whereby it was said: "Increase and multiply, 
 and fill the earth." 2 And therefore it was 
 quite right that • from the root of human 
 fecundity which happily flourished in the 
 synagogue, in accordance with that dispensa- 
 tion of the times, the buds of angelical vir- 
 ginity should spring, and the fragrant flowers 
 of continence be produced in the Church. 
 But that lying was even then condemned the 
 text of the whole Old Testament clearly shows, 
 as it says: "Thou shall destroy all them that 
 speak lies;" and again: "The bread of lying 
 is sweet to a man, but afterwards his mouth is 
 filled with gravel;" and the Giver of the law 
 himself says: "Thou shalt avoid a lie." 3 But 
 we said that it was then properly employed as 
 a last resort when some need or plan of salva- 
 tion was linked on to it, on account of which 
 it ought not to be condemned. As is the case, 
 which you mentioned, of king David when 
 in his flight from the unjust persecution of 
 Saul, to Abimelech the priest he used lying 
 words, not with the object of getting any gain 
 nor with the desire to injure anybody, but 
 simply to save himself from that most iniqui- 
 tous persecution; inasmuch as he would not 
 stain his hands with the blood of the hostile 
 king, so often delivered up to him by God; as 
 he said: "The Lord be merciful to me that I 
 may do no such thing to my master the Lord's 
 anointed, as to lay my hand upon him, 
 because he is the Lord's anointed." 4 And 
 
 1 S. Matt. v. 37 ; Col. iii. q. 
 
 3 Ps. v. 7; Prov. xx. 17; Exod. xxiii. 7. 
 
 2 Gen. i. 28. 
 
 4 1 Sam. xxiv. 7. 
 
 therefore these plans which we hear that holy 
 men under the old covenant adopted either 
 from the will of God, or for the prefiguring 
 of spiritual mysteries or for the salvation of 
 some people, we too cannot refuse altogether, 
 when necessity constrains us, as we see that 
 even apostles did not avoid them, where the 
 consideration of something profitable required 
 them: which in the meanwhile we will for a 
 time postpone, while we first discuss those 
 instances which we propose still to bring for- 
 ward from the Old Testament, and afterwards 
 we shall more suitably introduce them so as 
 more readily to prove that good and holy men, 
 both in the Old and in the New Testament, 
 were entirely at one with each other in these 
 contrivances. For what shall we say of that 
 pious fraud of Hushai to Absalom for the 
 salvation of king David, which though uttered 
 with all appearance of good-will by the de- 
 ceiver and cheat, and opposed to the good 
 of him who asked advice, is yet commended 
 by the authority of Holy Scripture, which 
 says: "But by the will of the Lord the profit- 
 able counsel of Ahithophel was defeated that 
 the Lord might bring evil upon Absalom ? " 5 
 Nor could that be blamed which was done 
 for the right side with a right purpose and 
 pious intent, and was planned for the salva- 
 tion and victory of one whose piety was pleas- 
 ing to God, by a holy dissimulation. What 
 too shall we say of the deed of that wcman, 
 who received the men who had been sent to 
 king David by the aforesaid Hushai, and 
 hid them in a well, and spread a cloth over 
 its mouth, and pretended that she was drying 
 pearl-barley, and said "They passed on after 
 tasting a little water"; G and by this invention 
 saved them from the hands of their pursuers? 
 Wherefore answer me, I pray you, and say 
 what you would have done, if any similar 
 situation had arisen for you, living ncAv under 
 the gospel ; would you prefer to hide them 
 with a similar falsehood, saying in the same 
 way: "They passed on after tasting a little 
 water," and thus fulfil the command: "Deliver 
 those who are being led to death, and spare 
 not to redeem these who are being killed; " 7 
 or by speaking the truth, would you have 
 given up those in hiding to the men who 
 would kill them? And what then becomes 
 of the Apostle's words: "Let no man seek 
 his own but the things of another;'' and: 
 " Love seeketh not her own, but the things of 
 others;" and of himself he says: "I seek not 
 mine own good but the good of many that 
 they may be saved ? " 8 For if we seek our own, 
 
 5 2 Sam. xvii. 14. 
 
 6 2 lb. ver. 20. 
 
 7 Prov. xxiv. 11. 
 
 8 1 Cor. x. 24 ; xiii. 5 ; 1 Cor. x. 33. 
 
SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH. 
 
 467 
 
 and want obstinately to keep what is good 
 for ourselves, we must even in urgent cases 
 of this sort speak the truth, and so become 
 guilty of the death of another: but if we 
 prefer what is for another's advantage to our 
 own good, and satisfy the demands of the 
 Apostle, we shall certainly have to put up 
 with the necessity of lying. And therefore 
 we shall not be able to keep a perfect heart 
 of love, or to seek, as Apostolic perfection 
 requires, the things of others, unless we 
 relax a little in those things which concern 
 the strictness and perfection of our own lives, 
 and choose to condescend with ready affec- 
 tion to what is useful to others, and so with 
 the Apostle become weak to the weak, that 
 we may be able to gain the weak. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 How even Apostles thought that a lie was often useful and the 
 truth injurious. 
 
 Instructed by which examples, the blessed 
 Apostle James also, and all the chief princes 
 of the primitive Church urged the Apostle 
 Paul in consequence of the weakness of 
 feeble persons to condescend to a fictitious 
 arrangement and insisted on his purifying him- 
 self according to the requirements of the law, 
 and shaving his head and paying his vows, as 
 they thought that the present harm which 
 would come from this hypocrisy was of no 
 account, but had regard rather to the gain 
 which would result from his still continued 
 preaching. For the gain to the Apostle Paul 
 from his strictness would not have counter- 
 balanced the loss to all nations from his 
 speedy death. And this would certainly have 
 been then incurred by the whole Church un- 
 less this good and salutary hypocrisy had 
 preserved him for the preaching of the Gospel. 
 For then we may rightly and pardonably ac- 
 quiesce in the wrong of a lie, when, as we 
 said, a greater harm depends on telling the 
 truth, and when the good which results to us 
 from speaking the truth cannot counterbalance 
 the harm which will be caused by it. And 
 elsewhere the blessed Apostle testifies in other 
 words that he himself always observed this 
 disposition; for when he says: "To the Jews 
 I became as a Jew that I might gain the Jews ; 
 to those who were under the law as being 
 under the law, though not myself under the 
 law, that I might gain those who were under 
 the law; to those, who were without law, I 
 became as without law, though I was not with- 
 out the law of God but under the law of 
 Christ, that I might gain those who were 
 
 without law; to the weak I became weak, 
 that I might gain the weak : I became all 
 things to all men, that I might save all ; " x 
 what does he show but that according to the 
 weakness and the capacity of those who were 
 being instructed he always lowered himself 
 and relaxed something of the vigour of per- 
 fection, and did not cling to what his own 
 strict life might seem to demand, but rather 
 preferred that which the good of the weak 
 might require? And that we may trace these 
 matters out more carefully and recount one 
 by one the glories of the good deeds of the 
 Apostles, some one may ask how the blessed 
 Apostle can be proved to have suited himself 
 to all men in all things. When did he to 
 the Jews become as a Jew? Certainly in the 
 case where, while he still kept in his inmost 
 heart the opinion which he had maintained 
 to the Galatians saying: "Behold, I, Paul, 
 say unto you that if ye be circumcised Christ 
 shall profit you nothing," 2 yet by circumcis- 
 ing Timothy he adopted a shadow as it were 
 of Jewish superstition. And again, where 
 did he become to those under the law, as 
 under the law? There certainly where James 
 and all the Elders of the Church, fearing 
 lest he might be attacked by the multitude 
 of Jewish believers, or rather of Judaizing 
 Christians, who had received the faith of 
 Christ in such a way as still to be bound by 
 the rites of legal ceremonies, came to his 
 rescue in his difficulty with this counsel and 
 advice, and said: "Thou seest, brother, how 
 many thousands there are among the Jews, 
 who have believed, and they are all zealots 
 for the law. But they have heard of thee 
 that thou teachest those Jews who are among 
 the Gentiles to depart from Moses, saying 
 that they ought not to circumcise their child- 
 ren;" and below: "Do therefore this that 
 we say unto thee: we have four men who have 
 a vow on them. These take and sanctify thy- 
 self with them and bestow on them, that they 
 may shave their heads; and all will know 
 that the things which they have heard of 
 thee are false, but that thou thyself also 
 walkest keeping the law." 3 And so for the 
 good of those who were under the law, he 
 trode under foot for a while the strict view 
 which he had expressed: "For I through the 
 law am dead unto the law that I may live unto 
 God;" 4 and was driven to shave his head, 
 and be purified according to the law and pay 
 his vows after the Mosaic rites in the Temple. 
 Do you ask also where for the good of those 
 who were utterly ignorant of the law of God, 
 he himself became as if without law? Read 
 
 1 1 Cor. ix. 20-22. 
 
 2 Gal. v. 2. 
 
 3 Acts xxi. 20-24. 
 
 4 Gal. ii. 19. 
 
468 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 the introduction to his sermon at Athens 
 where heathen wickedness was flourishing: 
 "As I passed by," he says, "I saw your idols 
 and an altar on which was written: To the 
 unknown God ; " and when he had thus started 
 from their superstition, as if he himself also 
 had been without law, under the cloke of that 
 profane inscription he introduced the faith of 
 Christ, saying : " What therefore ye ignorantly 
 worship, that declare I unto you." And after 
 a little, as if he had known nothing whatever 
 of the Divine law, he chose to bring forward 
 a verse of a heathen poet rather than a saying 
 of Moses or Christ, saying: "As some also 
 of your own poets have said: for we are also 
 His offspring." And when he had thus ap- 
 proached them with their own authorities, 
 which they could not reject, thus confirming 
 the truth by things false, he added and said: 
 "Since then we are the offspring of God we 
 ought not to think that the Godhead is like 
 to gold or silver or stone sculptured by the 
 art and device of man." 1 But to the weak 
 he became weak, when, by way of permission, 
 not of command, he allowed those who could 
 not contain themselves to return together 
 again, 2 or when he fed the Corinthians with 
 milk and not with meat, and says that he was 
 with them in weakness and fear and much 
 trembling. 3 But he became all things to all 
 men that, he might save all, when he says: 
 "He that eateth let him not despise him that 
 eateth not, and let not him that eateth not 
 judge him that eateth:" and: "He that 
 giveth his virgin in marriage doeth well, and 
 he that giveth her not in marriage doeth 
 better;" and elsewhere: "Who," says he, "is 
 weak, and I am not weak? Who is offended, 
 and I burn not? " and in this way he fulfilled 
 what he had commanded the Corinthians, to 
 do when he said : " Be ye without offence to 
 Jews and Greeks and the Church of Christ, 
 as I also please all men in all things, not 
 seeking mine own profit but that of the many, 
 that they may be saved." 4 For it had cer- 
 tainly been profitable not to circumcise Tim- 
 othy, not to shave his head, not to undergo 
 Jewish purification, not to practice going 
 barefoot, 5 not to pay legal vows; but he did 
 all these things because he did not seek his 
 own profit but that of the many. And 
 although this was done with the full conside- 
 ration of God, yet it was not free from dis- 
 simulation. For one who through the law of 
 
 1 Acts xvii. 23, 29. - Cf. 1 Cor. vii. 5. 3 Cf. 1 Cor. iii. 2 ; ii. 3. 
 
 4 Rom. xiv. 3 ; 1 Cor. viii. 3S ; 2 Cor. xi. 29; 1 Cor. x. 32, 33. 
 
 Nudipedalia non exercere. The expression is also used by 
 Jerome of S. Paul's purification in Jerusalem (in Gal. Book II. c. iv.j, 
 though there is nothing in the account in the Acts about his going 
 barefoot. Compare also Jerome against Jovinian, Book I. c. viii., 
 and for the word, in connexion with the rites of the Christian Church, 
 see Tertullian Apologeticum, c. xl. 
 
 Christ was dead to the law that he might live 
 to God, and who had made and treated that 
 righteousness of the law in which he had lived 
 blameless, as dung, that he might gain Christ, 
 could not with true fervour of heart offer what 
 belonged to the law; nor is it right to believe 
 that he who had said: " For if I again rebuild 
 what I have destroyed, I make myself a trans- 
 gressor," 6 would himself fall into what he had 
 condemned. And to such an extent is account 
 taken, not so much of the actual thing which 
 is done as of the disposition of the doer, that 
 on the other hand truth is sometimes found 
 to have injured some, and a lie to have done 
 them good. For when Saul was grumbling 
 to his servants about David's flight, and say- 
 ing: "Will the son of Jesse give you all fields 
 and vineyards, and make you all tribunes and 
 centurions: that all of you have conspired 
 against me, and there is no one to inform 
 me," did Doeg the Edomite say anything but 
 the truth, when he told him : " I saw the son 
 of Jesse in Nob, with Abimelech the son of 
 Ahitub the priest, who consulted the Lord for 
 him, and gave him victuals, and gave him 
 also the sword of Goliath the Philistine?" 7 
 For which true story he deserved to be rooted 
 up out of the land of the living, and it is said 
 of him by the prophet: "Wherefore God shall 
 destroy thee forever, and pluck thee up and 
 tear thee out of thy tabernacle, and thy root 
 from the land of the living:" 8 He then for 
 showing the truth is forever plucked and 
 rooted up out of that land in which the harlot 
 Rahab with her family is planted for her lie : 
 just as also we remember that Samson most 
 injuriously betrayed to his wicked wife the 
 truth which he had hidden for a long time by 
 a lie, and therefore the truth so inconside- 
 rately disclosed was the cause of his own 
 deception, because he had neglected to keep 
 the command of the prophet : " Keep the doors 
 of thy mouth from her that sleepeth in thy 
 bosom. " 9 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Whether secret abstinence ought to be made known, without 
 telling a lie about it, to those who ask, and whether what 
 has once been declined may be taken in hand. 
 
 And to bring forward some instances from 
 our unavoidable and almost daily wants 
 which with all our care we can never so guard 
 against as not to be driven to incur them 
 whether with or against our will : what, I ask 
 you, is to be done when, while we are pro- 
 posing to put off our supper, a brother comes 
 and asks us if we have had it: is our fast to 
 
 6 Gal. ii. 18. 
 
 7 1 Sam. xxii. 
 
 s Ps. Ii. (Hi.) 7. 
 9 Micah ii. 7. 
 
SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH. 
 
 469 
 
 be concealed, and the good act of abstinence 
 hidden, or is it to be proclaimed by telling 
 the truth? If we conceal it, to satisfy the 
 Lord's command which says: "Thou shalt 
 not appear unto men to fast but unto thy 
 Father Who is in secret;" and again: "Let 
 not thy left hand know what thy right hand 
 doeth," 1 we must at once tell a lie. If we 
 make manifest the good act of abstinence, the 
 word of the gospel rightly discourages us : 
 "Verily I say unto you, they have their 
 reward. " 2 But what if any one has refused 
 with determination a cup offered to him by 
 some brother, denying altogether that he will 
 take what the other, rejoicing at his arrival, 
 begs and intreats him to receive? Is it right 
 that he should force himself to yield to his 
 brother who goes on his knees and bows him- 
 self to the ground, and who thinks that he can 
 only show his loving heart by this service, or 
 should he obstinately cling to his own word 
 and intention? 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 An objection, that abstinence ought to be concealed, but that 
 things that have been declined should not be received. 
 
 Germanus : In the former instance we 
 think there can be no doubt that it is better 
 for our abstinence to be hidden than for it to 
 be displayed to the inquirers, and in cases of 
 this sort we also admit that a lie is unavoid- 
 able. But in the second there is no need 
 for us to tell a lie, first because we can refuse 
 what is offered by the service of a brother in 
 such a way as to bind ourselves in no bond 
 of determination, and next because when we 
 once refuse we can keep our opinion un- 
 changed. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 The answer that obstinacy in this decision is unreasonable. 
 
 Joseph : There is no doubt that these are 
 the decisions of those monasteries in which 
 the infancy of your renunciation was, as you 
 tell us, trained, as their leaders are accus- 
 tomed to prefer their own will to their 
 brother's supper, and most obstinately stick 
 to what they have once intended. But our 
 Elders, to whose faith the signs of Apostolical 
 powers have borne witness, and who have 
 treated everything with judgment and discre- 
 tion of spirit rather than with stiff obstinacy 
 of mind, have laid down that those men who 
 give in to the infirmities of others, receive 
 
 1 S. Matt. vi. iS, 3. 
 
 much richer fruits than those who persist in 
 their determinations, and have declared that 
 it is a better deed to conceal abstinence, as 
 was said, by this needful and humble lie, 
 rather than to display it with a proud show of 
 truth. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 How Abbot Piamun chose to hide his abstinence. 
 
 Finally Abbot Piamun 3 after twenty-five 
 years did not hesitate to receive some grapes 
 and wine offered to him by a certain brother, 
 and at once preferred, against his rule, to 
 taste what was brought him rather than to 
 display his abstinence which was a secret from 
 everybody. For if we would also bear in mind 
 what we remember that our Elders always did, 
 who used to conceal the marvels of their own 
 good deeds, and their own acts, which they 
 were obliged to bring forward in Conference 
 for the instruction of the juniors, under cover 
 of other persons, what else can we consider 
 them but an open lie? And O that we 
 too had anything worthy which we could 
 bring forward for stirring up the faith of the 
 juniors ! Certainly we should have no scruples 
 in following their fictions of that kind. For 
 it is better under the colour of a figure like 
 that to tell a lie than for the sake of main- 
 taining that unreasonable truthfulness either 
 hide in ill-advised silence what might be 
 edifying to the hearers, or run into the display 
 of an objectionable vanity by telling them 
 truthfully in our own character. And the 
 teacher of the Gentiles clearly teaches us the 
 same lesson by his teaching, as he chose to 
 bring forward the great revelations made to 
 him, under the character of some one else, 
 saying : " I know a man in Christ, whether in 
 the body or out of the body I cannot tell, 
 God knoweth, caught up even unto the third 
 heaven : and I know such a man, that he was 
 caught up into paradise and heard unspeak- 
 able words, which it is not lawful for man to 
 utter." 4 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 The evidence of Scripture on changes of determination. 
 
 It is impossible for us briefly to run through 
 everything. For who could count up almost all 
 the patriarchs and numberless saints, some of 
 whom for the preservation of life, others out 
 of desire for a blessing, others out of pity, 
 others to conceal some secret, others out of 
 zeal for God, others in searching for the 
 
 3 On Piamun see the note on XVIII. i. 4 2 Cor. xii. 2-4. 
 
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 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 truth, became, so to speak, patrons of lying? 
 And as all cannot be enumerated, so all ought 
 not to be altogether passed over. For piety 
 forced the blessed Joseph to raise a false 
 charge against his brethren even with an oath 
 by the life of the king, saying: "Ye are 
 spies : to see the nakedness of the land are ye 
 come;" and below: "send," says he, "one 
 of you, and bring your brothers hither: but 
 ye shall be kept here until your words are 
 made manifest whether ye speak the truth or 
 no: but if not, by the life of Pharaoh, ye are 
 spies. " x For if he had not out of pity alarmed 
 them by this lie, he would not have been 
 able to see again his father and his brother, 
 nor to preserve them in their great danger of 
 starvation, nor to free the conscience of his 
 brethren from the guilt of selling him. The 
 act then of striking his brethren with fear by 
 means of a lie was not so reprehensible as 
 was it a holy and laudable act to urge his 
 enemies and seekers to a salutary penitence by 
 means of a feigned danger. Finally when 
 they were weighed down by the odium of the 
 very serious accusation, they were conscience- 
 stricken not at the charge falsely raised 
 against them, but at the thought of their 
 earlier crime, and said to one another: "We 
 suffer this rightly because we sinned against 
 our brother, in that we saw the anguish of his 
 soul when he asked us and we did not hearken 
 to him: wherefore all this trouble hath come 
 upon us." 2 And this confession, we think, 
 expiated by most salutary humility their ter- 
 rible sin not only against their brother, 
 against whom they had sinned with wicked 
 cruelty, but also against God. What about 
 Solomon, who in his first judgment manifested 
 the gift of wisdom, which he had received of 
 God, only by making use of falsehood ? For 
 in order to get at the truth which was hidden 
 by the woman's lie, even he used the help of a 
 lie most cunningly invented, saying: "Bring 
 me a sword and divide the living child into 
 two parts, and give the one half to the one and 
 the other half to the other." And when this 
 pretended cruelty stirred the heart of the true 
 mother, but was received with approval by 
 her who was not the true mother, then at last 
 by this most sagacious discovery of the truth he 
 pronounced the judgment which every one has 
 felt to have been inspired by God, saying : 
 "Give her the living child and slay it not: 
 she is the mother of it. " 8 Further we are more 
 fully taught by other passages of Scripture as 
 well that we neither can nor should carry out 
 everything which we determine either with 
 peace or disturbance of mind, as we often 
 
 1 Gen. xlii. 9, 16. 
 
 2 lb. ver. 21. 3 1 Kings iii. 24-27. 
 
 hear that holy men and angels and even Al- 
 mighty God Himself have changed what they 
 had decided upon. For the blessed David 
 determined and confirmed it by an oath, say- 
 ing: "May God do so and add more to the 
 foes of David if I leave of all that belong 
 unto Nabal until the morning a single male." 
 And presently when Abigail his wife inter- 
 ceded and intreated for him, he gave up his 
 threats, lightened the sentence, and preferred 
 to be regarded as a breaker of his word rather 
 than to keep his pledged oath by cruelly exe- 
 cuting it, saying: "As the Lord liveth, if 
 thou hadst not quickly come to meet me there 
 had not been left to Nabal by the morning 
 light a single male." 4 And as we do not hold 
 that his readiness to take a rash oath (which 
 resulted from his anger and disturbance of 
 mind) ought to be copied by us, so we do 
 think that the pardon and revision of his 
 determination is to be followed. The " chosen 
 vessel," in writing to the Corinthians, prom- 
 ises unconditionally to return, saying: "But 
 I will come to you when I pass through Mace- 
 donia: for I will pass through Macedonia. 
 But I will stay or even pass the winter with 
 you that you may conduct me whithersoever I 
 shall go. For I do not want cnly to see you 
 in passing: for I hope to stay with you for 
 some time." 5 And this fact he remembers in 
 the Second Epistle, thus : " And in this confi- 
 dence I was minded first to come unto you, that 
 ye might receive a second favour, and by you 
 to pass into Macedonia and again to come to 
 you from Macedonia and by you be conducted 
 to Judaea." But a better plan suggested itself 
 and he plainly admits that he is not going to 
 fulfil what he had promised. " When then," 
 says he, " I purposed this, did I use light- 
 mindedness? or the things that I think, do I 
 think after the flesh, that there should be 
 with me yea, yea, and nay, nay ? " Lastly, he 
 declares even with the affirmation of an oath, 
 why it was that he preferred to put on one side 
 his pledged word rather than by his presence 
 to bring a burden and grief to his disciples: 
 "But I call God to witness against my soul 
 that it was to spare you that I came not as far 
 as Corinth. For I determined this with myself 
 that I would not come unto you in sorrow." 6 
 Though when the angels had refused to enter 
 the house of Lot at Sodom, saying to him : 
 "We will not enter but will remain in the 
 street," they were presently forced by his 
 prayers to change their determination, as 
 Scripture subjoins: "And Lot constrained 
 them, and they turned in to him." 7 And 
 
 4 1 Sam. xxv. 22, 34. 
 
 5 1 Cor. xvi. 5, 7. 
 
 8 2 Cor. i. 15-17, 23 ; 
 7 Gen. xix. 2, 3. 
 
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 471 
 
 certainly if they knew that they would turn 
 in to him, they refused his request with a 
 sham excuse : but if their excuse was a real 
 one, then they are clearly shown to have 
 changed their mind. And certainly we hold 
 that the Holy Spirit inserted this in the sa- 
 cred volume for no other reason but to teach 
 us by their examples that we ought not to 
 cling obstinately to our own determinations, 
 but to subject them to our will, and so to keep 
 our judgment free from all the chains of law 
 that it may be ready to follow the call of 
 good counsel in any direction, and may not 
 delay or refuse to pass without any delay to 
 whatever a sound discretion may find to be 
 the better choice. And to rise to still higher 
 instances, when king Hezekiah was lying on 
 his bed and afflicted with grievous sickness 
 the prophet Isaiah addressed him in the per- 
 son of God, and said: "Thus saith the Lord: 
 set thine house in order for thou shalt die and 
 not live. And Hezekiah," it says, "turned 
 his face to the wall and prayed to the Lord 
 and said: I beseech thee, O Lord, remember 
 how I have walked before Thee in truth and 
 with a perfect heart, and how I have done 
 what was right in Thy sight. And Hezekiah 
 wept sore." After which it was again said to 
 him : " Go, return, and speak to Hezekiah 
 king of Judah, saying: Thus saith the Lord 
 God of David thy father : I have heard thy 
 prayer, I have seen thy tears: and behold, I 
 will add to thy days fifteen years: and I will 
 deliver thee out of the hand of the king of 
 the Assyrians, and I will defend this city for 
 thy sake and for my servant David's sake." 1 
 What can be clearer than this proof that out 
 of consideration for mercy and goodness the 
 Lord would rather break His word and instead 
 of the pre-arranged limit of death extend the 
 life of him who prayed, for fifteen years, 
 rather than be found inexorable because of 
 His unchangeable decree? In the same way 
 too the Divine sentence says to the men of 
 Nineveh: " Yet three days, and Nineveh shall 
 be overthrown ; " 2 and presently this stern and 
 abrupt sentence is softened by their peni- 
 tence and fasting, and is turned to the side 
 of mercy with goodness that is easy to be 
 intreated. But if any one maintains that the 
 Lord had threatened the destruction of their 
 city (while He foreknew that they would be 
 converted) for this reason, that He might 
 incite them to a salutary penitence, it follows 
 that those who are set over their brethren may, 
 if need arises, without any blame for telling 
 lies, threaten those who need improvement 
 with severer treatment than they are really 
 
 1 2 Kings xx. 1-6, 
 
 2 Jonah iii. 4 (LXX.). 
 
 going to inflict. But if one says that God 
 revoked that severe sentence in considera- 
 tion of their penitence, according to what 
 he says by Ezekiel : " If I say to the wicked, 
 Thou shalt surely die: and he becomes peni- 
 tent for his sin, and doeth judgment and 
 justice, he shall surely live, he shall not 
 die; " 3 we are similarly taught that we ought 
 not obstinately to stick to our determination, 
 but that we should with gentle pity soften 
 down the threats which necessity called forth. 
 And that we may not fancy that the Lord 
 granted this specially to the Ninevites, He 
 continually affirms by Jeremiah that He will 
 do the same in general towards all, and 
 promises that without delay He will change 
 His sentence in accordance with our deserts; 
 saying: "I will suddenly speak against a 
 nation and against a kingdom to root out 
 and to pull down and to destroy it. If that 
 nation repent of the evil, which I have spoken 
 against it, I also will repent of the evil which 
 I thought to do to them. And I will sud- 
 denly speak of a nation and a kingdom, to 
 build up and to plant it. If it shall do evil 
 in My sight, that it obey not My voice: I 
 will repent of the good that I thought to do 
 to it." To Ezekiel also: "Leave out not a 
 word, if so be they will hearken and be con- 
 verted every one from his evil way: that I 
 may repent Me of the evil that I thought to do 
 to them for the wickedness of their doings." 4 
 And by these passages it is declared that we 
 ought not obstinately to stick to our decis- 
 ions, but to modify them with reason and 
 judgment, and that better courses should 
 always be adopted and preferred, and that we 
 should turn without any delay to that course 
 which is considered the more profitable. 
 For this above all that invaluable sentence 
 teaches us, because though each man's end 
 is known beforehand to Him before his birth, 
 yet somehow He so orders all things by a plan 
 and method for all, and with regard to man's 
 disposition, that He decides on everything not 
 by the mere exercise of His power, nor ac- 
 cording to the ineffable knowledge which His 
 Prescience possesses, but according to the 
 present actions of men, and rejects or draws 
 to Himself each one, and daily either grants 
 or withholds His grace. And that this is so 
 the election of Saul also shows us, of whose 
 miserable end the foreknowledge of God cer- 
 tainly could not be ignorant, and yet He chose 
 him out of so many thousands of Israel and 
 anointed him king, rewarding the then existing 
 merits of his life, and not considering the sin 
 of his coming fall, so that after he became 
 
 Ezek. xxxiii. 14, 15. 
 
 4 Jer. xviii. 7, 10 ; xxvi. 2, 3. 
 
47 2 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 reprobate, God complains almost in human 
 terms and, with man's feelings, as if He re- 
 pented of his choice, saying: "It repenteth 
 Me that I have appointed Saul king : for he 
 hath forsaken Me, and hath not performed My 
 words; " and again: "But Samuel was grieved 
 for Saul because the Lord repented that He 
 had made Saul king over Israel." * Finally 
 this that He afterwards executed, that the 
 Lord also declares by the prophet Ezekiel 
 that He will by His daily judgment do with 
 all men, saying: "Yea, if I shall say to the 
 righteous that he shall surely live, and he 
 trusting in his righteousness commit iniquity: 
 all his righteousness shall be forgotten, and 
 in his iniquity which he hath committed, in 
 the same he shall die. And if I shall say to 
 the wicked : Thou shalt surely die ; and if he 
 repent of his sin and do judgment and right- 
 eousness, and if that wicked man restore the 
 pledge and render what he hath robbed, and 
 walk in the commandments of life, and do 
 no righteous thing, he shall surely live, he 
 shall not die. None of his sins which he 
 hath committed shall be imputed unto him." 2 
 Finally, when the Lord would for their speedy 
 fall turn away His merciful countenance 
 from the people whom He had chosen out of 
 all nations, the giver of the law interposes 
 on their behalf and cries out: "I beseech 
 Thee, O Lord, this people have sinned a great 
 sin; they have made for themselves gods of 
 gold; and now if Thou forgivest their sin, for- 
 give it; but if not, blot me out of Thy book 
 which Thou hast written. To whom the Lord 
 answered : If any man hath sinned before Me, 
 I will blot him out of My book." 3 David 
 also, when complaining in prophetic spirit of 
 Judas and the Lord's persecutors, says: "Let 
 them be blotted out of the book of the living; " 
 and because they did not deserve to come to 
 saving penitence because of the guilt of their 
 great sin, he subjoins: "And let them not be 
 written among the righteous." 4 Finally in 
 the case of Judas himself the meaning of the 
 prophetic curse was clearly fulfilled, for when 
 his deadly sin was completed, he killed him- 
 self by hanging, that he might not after his 
 name was blotted out be converted and repent 
 and deserve to be once more written among 
 the righteous in heaven. We must therefore 
 not doubt that at the time when he was chosen 
 by Christ and obtained a place in the Apos- 
 tolate, the name of Judas was written in the 
 book of the living, and that he heard as well 
 as the rest the words: "Rejoice not because 
 the devils are subject unto you, but rejoice 
 because vour names are written in heaven." 5 
 
 i Sam. xv. ii, 35. 
 Ezek. xxxiii. 13-16. 
 
 3 Exod. xxxii. 31-33. 
 1 Ps. lxviii. (lxix.) 29. 
 
 5 S. Luke x. 20. 
 
 But because he was corrupted by the plague 
 of covetousness and had his name struck out 
 from that heavenly list, it is suitably said of 
 him and of men like him by the prophet: "O 
 Lord, let all those that forsake Thee be con- 
 founded. Let them that depart from Thee be 
 written in the earth, because they have for- 
 saken the Lord, the vein of living waters." 
 And elsewhere: "They shall not be in the 
 counsel of My people, nor shall they be 
 written in the writing of the house of Israel, 
 neither shall they enter into the land of 
 Israel." 6 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 How saintly men cannot be hard and obstinate. 
 
 Nor must we omit the value of that com- 
 mand because even if we have bound ourselves 
 by some oath under the influence of anger 
 or some other passion, (a thing which ought 
 never to be done by a monk) still the case for 
 each side should be weighed by a thorough 
 judgment of the mind, and the course on 
 which we have determined should be com- 
 pared to that which we are urged to adopt, 
 and we should without hesitation adopt that 
 which on the occurrence of sounder considera- 
 tions is decided to be the best. For it is better 
 to put our promise on one side than to undergo 
 the loss of something good and more desir- 
 able. Finally we never remember that vener- 
 able and approved fathers were hard and 
 unyielding in decisions of this sort, but as 
 wax under the influence of heat, so they were 
 modified by reason, and when sounder coun- 
 sels prevailed, did not hesitate to give in to 
 the better side. But those whom we have seen 
 obstinately clinging to their determinations 
 we have always set down as unreasonable and 
 wanting in judgment. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 A question whether the saying : " I have sworn and am 
 purposed : ' is opposed to the view given above. 
 
 Germanus: So far as this consideration is 
 concerned which has been clearly and fully 
 treated of, a monk ought never to determine 
 anything for fear lest he turn out a breaker of 
 his word or else obstinate. And what then 
 can we make of this saying of the Psalmist: 
 " I have sworn and am purposed to keep Thy 
 righteous judgments?'" 7 What is "to swear 
 and purpose " except to keep one's determina- 
 tions fixedly? 
 
 6 Jer. xvii. 13; Ezek. xiii. 9. 
 
 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 106. 
 
SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOSEPH. 
 
 47. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 The answer telling in what cases the determination is to be 
 kept fixedly, and in what cases it may be broken if need be. 
 
 Joseph : We do not lay this down with re- 
 gard to those fundamental commands, without 
 which our salvation cannot in any way exist, 
 but with regard to those which we can either 
 relax or hold fast to without endangering our 
 state, as for instance, an unbroken and strict 
 fast, or total abstinence from wine or oil, or 
 entire prohibition to leave one's cell, or in- 
 cessant attention to reading and meditation, 
 all of which can be practised at pleasure, with- 
 out damage to our profession and purpose, 
 and, if need be, can be given up without 
 blame. But we must most resolutely make up 
 our minds to observe those fundamental com- 
 mands, and not even, if need arise, to avoid 
 death in their cause, with regard to which we 
 must immovably assert : " I have sworn and 
 am purposed." And this should be done for 
 the preservation of love, for which all things 
 else should be disregarded lest the beauty and 
 perfection of its calm should suffer a stain. 
 In the same way we must swear for the purity 
 of our chastity, and we ought to do the same 
 for faith, and sobriety and justice, to all of 
 which we must cling with unchangeable per- 
 sistence, and to forsake which even for a little 
 is worthy of blame. But in the case of those 
 bodily exercises, which are said to be profit- 
 able for a little, 1 we must, as we said, decide 
 in such a way that, if there occurs any more 
 decided opportunity for a good act, which 
 would lead us to relax them, we need not be 
 bound by any rule about them, but may give 
 them up and freely adopt what is more useful. 
 For in the case of those bodily exercises, if 
 they are dropped for a time, there is no 
 danger: but -to have given up these others 
 even for a moment is deadly. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 How we ought to do those things which are to be kept secret. 
 
 You must also provide with the same care 
 that if by chance some word has slipped out of 
 your mouth which you want to be a secret, no 
 injunction to secrecy may trouble the hearer. 
 For it will be more likely to be unheeded if it 
 is let pass carelessly and simply, because the 
 brother, whoever he is, will not be tormented 
 with such a temptation to divulge it, as he 
 will take it as something trivial dropped in 
 
 1 Cf. i Tim. iv. 8. 
 
 casual conversation, and as what is for this 
 very reason of less account, because it was 
 not committed to the hearer's mind with a 
 strict injunction to silence. For even if you 
 bind his faith by exacting an oath from him, 
 you need not doubt that it will very soon be 
 divulged; for a fiercer assault of the devil's 
 power will be made upon him, both to annoy 
 and betray you, and to make him break his 
 oath as quickly as possible. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 That no determination should be made on those things which 
 concern the needs of the common life. 
 
 And therefore a monk ought not hastily, 
 to make any promise on those things which 
 merely concern bodily exercise, for fear lest he 
 may stir up the enemy still more to attack 
 what he is keeping as it were under the observ- 
 ance of the law, and so he may be more readily 
 compelled to break it. Since every one who 
 lives under the grace of liberty, and sets him- 
 self a law, thereby binds himself in a danger- 
 ous slavery, so that if by chance necessity 
 constrains him to do what he might have 
 ventured on lawfully, and indeed laudably 
 and with thanksgiving, he is forced to act as 
 a transgressor, and to fall into sin : " for where 
 there is no law there is no transgression." 2 
 
 By this instruction and the teaching of the 
 blessed Joseph we were confirmed as by a 
 Divine oracle and made up our minds to stop 
 in Egypt. But though henceforward we were 
 but a little anxious about our promise, yet 
 when seven years were over we were very glad 
 to fulfil it. For we hastened to our monas- 
 tery, at a time when we were confident of 
 obtaining permission to return to the desert, 
 and first paid our respects properly to our 
 Elders; next we revived the former love in 
 their minds as out of the ardour of their love 
 they had not been at all softened by our very 
 frequent letters to satisfy them, and in the 
 last place, we entirely removed the sting of 
 our broken promise and returned to the re- 
 cesses of the desert of Scete, as they them- 
 selves forwarded us with joy. 
 
 This learning and doctrine of the illustrious 
 fathers, our ignorance, O holy brother, has to 
 the best of its ability made plain to you. And 
 if perhaps our clumsy style has confused it 
 instead of setting it in order, I trust that the 
 blame which our clumsiness deserves will not 
 interfere with the praise due to these grand 
 
 2 Rom. iv. 15. 
 
474 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 men. Since it seemed to us a safer course 
 in the sight of our Judge to state even in un- 
 adorned style this splendid doctrine rather 
 than to hold our tongues about it, since if he 
 considers the grandeur of the thoughts, the 
 fact that the awkwardness of our style annoys 
 him, need not be prejudicial to the profit of the 
 reader, and for our part we are more anxious 
 about its usefulness than its being praised. 
 
 This at least I charge all those into whose 
 hand this little book may fall; viz., that they 
 must know that whatever in it pleases them 
 belongs to the fathers, and whatever they dis- 
 like is all our own. 1 
 
 1 In this last chapter Cassian certainly makes his own the senti- 
 ments of Abbot Joseph on the permissibility of lying ; and is therefore 
 not unreasonably attacked for the teaching of this Conference by 
 Prosper. " Contra Collatorem," c. ix. 
 
THE THIRD PART OF THE CONFERENCES OF 
 
 JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 When by the help of the grace of Christ I had published ten Conferences of the Fathers, 
 which were composed at the urgent request of the most blessed Helladius and Leontius, I 
 dedicated seven others to Honoratus a Bishop blessed in name as well as merits, and also to 
 that holy servant of Christ, Eucherius. The same number also I have thought good to dedi- 
 cate now to you, O holy brothers, Jovinianus, Minervius, Leontius, and Theodore. 1 Since the 
 last named of you founded that holy and splendid monastic rule in the province of Gaul, with 
 the strictness of ancient virtue, while the rest of you by your instructions have stirred up monks 
 not only before all to seek the common life of the coenobia, but even to thirst eagerly for the 
 sublime life of the anchorite. For those Conferences of the best of the fathers are arranged 
 with such care, and so carefully considered in all respects, that they are suited 'to 'both- modes 
 of life whereby you have made not only the countries of the West, but even the isles; to 
 flourish with great crowds of brethren ; i.e., I mean that not only those who still remain in 
 congregations with praiseworthy subjection to rule, but those also who retire to.no great dis- 
 tance from your monasteries, and try to carry out the rule of ancho v rites, may oe more fully 
 instructed, according as the nature of the place and the character .of; their' condition may 
 require. And to this your previous efforts and labours, have especially contributed this, that, 
 as they are already prepared and practised in these exercises, they can more readily receive 
 the precepts and institutes of the Elders, and receiving into their cells' the authors of the 
 Conferences together with the actual volumes of the Conferences and talking with them after 
 a fashion by daily questions and answers, they may not be left to their own resources to find 
 that way which is difficult and almost unknown in this country, but full of danger even there 
 where well-worn paths and numberless instances of those who have gone before are not 
 wanting, but may rather learn to follow the rule of the anchorite's life taught by their 
 examples, whom . ancient tradition and industry and long experience have thoroughly 
 instructed. 
 
 1 See the introduction p. 189. 
 
THE THIRD PART OF THE CONFERENCES OF 
 
 JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PIAMUN. 
 
 ON THE THREE SORTS OF MONKS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 How we came to Diolcos and were received by Abbot Piamun. 1 
 
 After visiting and conversing with those 
 three Elders, whose Conferences we have at 
 the instance of our brother Eucherius tried to 
 describe, as we were still more ardently de- 
 sirous to seek out the further parts of Egypt, 
 in which a larger and more perfect company 
 of saints dwelt, we came — • urged not so much 
 by the necessities of our journey as by the 
 desire of visiting the saints who were dwell- 
 ing there — to a village named Diolcos, 2 
 lying on one of the seven mouths of the 'river 
 Nile. For when we heard of very many and 
 very celebrated monasteries founded by the 
 ancient fathers, like most eager merchants, at 
 once we undertook the journey on an uncertain 
 quest, urged on by the hope of greater gain. 
 And when we wandered about there for some 
 long time and fixed our curious eyes on those 
 mountains of virtue conspicuous for their 
 lofty height, the gaze of those around first 
 singled out Abbot Piamun, the senior of all 
 the anchorites living there and their presbyter, 
 as if he were some tall lighthouse. For he 
 was set on the top of a high mountain like 
 that city in the gospel, 3 and at once shed his 
 light on our faces, whose virtues and miracles, 
 which were wrought by him under our very 
 
 1 Piamun, who has been already spoken of in XVII. xxiv., is also 
 mentioned by Rufmus (History of the Monks, c. xxxii.), Palladius 
 (the Lausiac History, clxxii.), and Sozomen (H. E. VI. xxix.), all of 
 whom tell, with slight variations, the same story, how that one dav 
 while he was officiating at the altar, he saw an angel writing down the 
 names of some of the brethren, and passing by the names of others, 
 all of whom Piamun on subsequent inquiry found to have been 
 guilty of some grievous sin. 
 
 2 On Diolcos see on the Institutes V. xxxvi. 
 
 ! Cf. S. Matt. v. 14. 
 
 eyes, Divine Grace thus bearing witness to 
 his excellence, if we are not to exceed the 
 plan and limits of this volume, we feel we 
 must pass over in silence. For we promised 
 to commit to memory what we could recollect, 
 not of the miracles of God, but of the insti- 
 tutes and pursuits of the saints, so as to 
 supply our readers merely with necessary in- 
 struction for the perfect life, and not with 
 matter for idle and useless admiration without 
 any correction of their faults. And so when 
 Abbot Piamun had received us with welcome, 
 and had refreshed us with becoming kindness, 
 as he understood that we were not of the same 
 country, he first asked us anxiously whence or 
 why we had visited Egypt, and when he dis- 
 covered that we had come thither from a 
 monastery in Syria out of desire for perfection 
 he began as follows : — 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The words of Abbot Piamun, how monks who were novices 
 ought to be taught by the example of their elders. 
 
 Whatever man, my children, is desirous to 
 attain skill in any art, unless he gives himself 
 up with the utmost pains and carefulness to 
 the study of that system which, he is anxious 
 to learn, and observes the rules and orders of 
 the best masters of that work or science, is 
 indulging in a vain hope to reach by idle 
 wishes any similarity to those whose pains 
 and diligence he avoids copying. For we 
 know that some have come from your country 
 to these parts, only to go round the monas- 
 teries for the sake of getting to know the 
 brethren, not meaning to adopt the rules and 
 
 479 
 
480 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 regulations, for the sake of which they 
 travelled hither, nor to retire to the cells and 
 aim at carrying out in action what they had 
 learnt by sight or by teaching. And these 
 people retained their character and pursuits 
 to which they had grown accustomed, and, as 
 is thrown in their teeth by some, are held to 
 have changed their country not for the sake of 
 their profit, but owing to the need of escaping 
 want. For in the obstinacy of their stubborn 
 mind, they not only could learn nothing, but 
 actually would hot stay any longer in these 
 parts. For if they changed neither their 
 method-of fasting, nor their scheme of Psalms, 
 nor even the fashion of their garments, what 
 else could we think that they were after in 
 this country, except only the supply of their 
 victuals. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 How -the juniors ought not to discuss the orders of the seniors. 
 
 Wherefore if, as we believe, the cause of 
 God has drawn you to try to copy our know- 
 ledge, you must utterly ignore all the rules by 
 which your early beginnings were trained, and 
 must with all, humility follow whatever you 
 see our Elders do or teach. And do not be 
 troubled or drawn away and diverted from im- 
 itating it, even if for the moment the cause or 
 reason .of any deed or action is not clear to 
 you. because if men have good, and simple 
 ideas on all things and are anxious faithfully 
 to copy whatever they see taught or done by 
 their Elders, instead of discussing it, then the 
 knowledge of all things will follow through 
 experience of , the work. But he will never 
 enter into the reason of the truth, who begins 
 to learn by discussion,, because as the enemy 
 sees>.that he trusts to his own judgment rather 
 than to that of the fathers' he easily urges 
 him on so far .till, those things which are 
 especially useful and helpful seem to him un- 
 necessary or injurious, and the crafty foe so 
 plays, upon his presumption, that by obsti- 
 nately clinging to his own opinion he per- 
 suades himself that only that is holy, which 
 he himself in his pig-headed error thinks to 
 be arood and ri^ht. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Of the three sorts of monks which there are in Egypt. 
 
 Wherefore you should first hear how or 
 whence the system and beginning of our order 
 took its rise. For only then can a man at all 
 effectually be trained in any art he may wish. 
 
 and be urged on to practise it diligently, 
 when he has learnt the glory of its authors 
 and founders. There are three kinds of 
 monks in Egypt, of which two are admirable, 
 the third is a poor sort of thing and by all 
 means to be avoided. The first is that of 
 the coenobites, who live together in a congre- 
 gation and are governed by the direction of a 
 single Elder: and of this kind there is the 
 largest number of monks dwelling through- 
 out the whole of Egypt. The second is that 
 of the anchorites, who were first trained in the 
 coenobium and then being made perfect in 
 practical life chose the recesses of the desert: 
 and in this "order we also hope to gain a place. 
 The third is the reprehensible one of the Sara- 
 baites. 1 And of these we will discourse more 
 fully one by one in order. Of these three 
 orders then you ought, as we said, first to 
 know about the founders. For at once from 
 this there may arise either a hatred for the 
 order which is to be avoided, or a longing for 
 that which is to be followed, because each way 
 is sure to carry the man who follows it, to 
 that end which its author and discoverer has 
 reached. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Of the founders who originated the order of coenobites. 
 
 And so the system of ccenobites took its 
 rise in the days of the preaching of the 
 Apostles. For such was all that multitude of 
 believers in Jerusalem, which is thus described 
 in the Acts of the Apostles: "But the multi- 
 tude of believers was of one heart and one 
 soul, neither said any of them that any of the 
 things which he possessed was his own, but 
 they had all things common. They sold their 
 possessions and property and divided them 
 to all, as any man had need." And again: 
 " For neither was there any among them that 
 lacked; for as many as possessed fields or 
 houses, sold them and brought the price of 
 the things that they sold and laid them before 
 the feet of the Apostles : and distribution was 
 made to every man as he had need." 2 The 
 whole Church, I say, was then such as now 
 are those few who can be found with difficulty 
 in ccenobia. But when at the death of the 
 Apostles the multitude of believers began to 
 wax cold, and especially that multitude which 
 had come to the faith of Christ from diverse 
 foreign nations, from whom the Apostles out 
 of consideration for the infancy of their faith 
 and their ingrained heathen habits, required 
 nothing more than that they should " abstain 
 
 1 See the note on c. vii. 2 Acts iv. 32 ; ii. 45 ; iv. 34, 35. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PIAMUN. 
 
 481 
 
 from things sacrificed to idols and from forni- 
 cation, and from things strangled, and from 
 blood," 1 and so that liberty which was con- 
 ceded to the Gentiles because of the weak- 
 ness of their newly-born faith, had by degrees 
 begun to mar the perfection of that Church 
 which existed at Jerusalem, and the fervour 
 of that early faith cooled down owing to the 
 daily increasing number both of natives and 
 foreigners, and not only those who had ac- 
 cepted the faith of Christ, but even those who 
 were the leaders of the Church relaxed some- 
 what of that strictness. For some fancying 
 that what they saw permitted to the Gen- 
 tiles because of their weakness, was also 
 allowable for themselves, thought that they 
 would suffer no loss if they followed the faith 
 and confession of Christ keeping their pro- 
 perty and possessions. But those who still 
 maintained the fervour of the apostles, mind- 
 ful of that former perfection left their cities 
 and intercourse with those who thought that 
 carelessness and a laxer life was permissible 
 to themselves and the Church of God, and 
 began to live in rural and more sequestered 
 spots, and there, in private and on their own 
 account, to practise those things which they 
 had learnt to have been ordered by the apos- 
 tles throughout the whole body of the Church 
 in general : and so that whole system of which 
 we have spoken grew up from those dis- 
 ciples who had separated themselves from 
 the evil that was spreading. And these, as by 
 degrees time went on, were separated from 
 the great mass of believers and because they 
 abstained from marriage and cut themselves 
 off from intercourse with their kinsmen and 
 the life of this world, were termed monks or 
 solitaries from the strictness of their lonely 
 and solitary life. Whence it followed that 
 from their common life they were called 
 coenobites and their cells and lodgings cce- 
 nobia. That then alone was the earliest kind 
 of monks, which is first not only in time but 
 also in grace, and which continued unbroken 
 for a very long period up to the time of Abbot 
 Paul and Antony; and even to this day we 
 see its traces remaining; in strict ccenobia 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Of the system of the Anchorites and its beginning. 
 
 Out of this number of the perfect, and, if 
 I may use the expression, this most fruitful 
 root of saints, were produced afterwards the 
 
 1 Acts xv. 29. 
 
 flowers and fruits of the anchorites as well. 
 And of this order we have heard that the 
 originators were those whom we mentioned 
 just now; viz., Saint Paul 2 and Antony, men 
 who frequented the recesses of the desert, not 
 as some from faintheartedness, and the evil 
 of impatience, but from a desire for loftier 
 heights of perfection and divine contempla- 
 tion, although the former of them is said to 
 have found his way to the desert by reason of 
 necessity, while during the time of persecu- 
 tion he was avoiding the plots of his neigh- 
 bours. So then there sprang from that system 
 of which we have spoken another sort of per- 
 fection, whose followers are rightly termed 
 anchorites; i.e., withdrawers, because, being 
 by no means satisfied with that victory where- 
 by they had trodden under foot the hidden 
 snares of the devil, while still living among 
 men, they were eager to fight with the devils 
 in open conflict, and a straightforward battle,- 
 and so feared not to penetrate the vast re- 
 cesses of the desert, imitating, to wit, John 
 the Baptist, who passed all his life in the 
 desert, and Elijah and Elisha and those of 
 whom the Apostle speaks as follows: "They 
 wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, 
 being in want, distressed, afflicted, of whom 
 the world was not worthy, wandering in 
 deserts, in mountains and in dens and in caves 
 of the earth." Of whom too the Lord speaks 
 figuratively to Job : " But who hath sent out 
 the wild ass free, and who hath loosed his 
 bands? To whom I have given the wilder- 
 ness for an house, and a barren land for his 
 dwelling. He scorneth the multitude of the 
 city and heareth not the cry of the driver; he 
 looketh round about the mountains of his 
 pasture, and seeketh for every green thing." 
 In the Psalms also : " Let now the redeemed 
 of the Lord say, those whom He hath re- 
 deemed from the hand of the enemy ; " and 
 after a little : "They wandered in a wilderness 
 in a place without water: they found not the 
 way of a city of habitation. They were hungry 
 and thirsty: their soul fainted in them. And 
 they cried unto the Lord in their trouble 
 and He delivered them out of their dis- 
 tress;" whom Jeremiah too describes as fol- 
 lows: "Blessed is the man that hath borne 
 the yoke from his youth. He shall sit soli- 
 tary and hold his peace because he hath 
 taken it up upon himself," and there sing in 
 heart and deed these words of the Psalmist : 
 
 - Paul was from very early days celebrated as the first of the an- 
 chorites. Indeed S. Jerome, who wrote his life (Works, Vol. ii. 
 p. 13 ed. Migne) calls him " auctor vita; monastics " (Ep. xxii. ad 
 Eustochium). He is said to have fled to the Thebaid from the terrors 
 of the Decian persecution, and to have died there in extreme old age. 
 Antony has already been several times mentioned by Cassian. See 
 the Institutes V. iv. : Conference II. ii. ; III. iv., etc. 
 
432 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 "I am become like a pelican in the wilder- 
 ness. I watched and am become like a 
 sparrow alone upon the house-top." 1 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Of the origin of the Sarabaites and their mode of life. 
 
 And while the Christian religion was re- 
 joicing in these two orders of monks though 
 this system had begun by degrees to deteri- 
 orate, there arose afterwards that disgusting 
 and unfaithful kind of monks; or rather, 
 that baleful plant revived and sprang up 
 again which when it first shot up in the per- 
 sons of Ananias and Sapphira in the early 
 Church was cut off by the severity of the 
 Apostle Peter — a kind which among monks 
 has been For a long while considered detestable 
 and execrable, and which was adopted by no 
 one any more, so long as there remained 
 stamped on the memory of the faithful the 
 dread of that very severe sentence, in which 
 the blessed Apostle not merely refused to 
 allow the aforesaid originators of the novel 
 crime to be cured by penitence or any amends, 
 but actually destroyed that most dangerous 
 germ by their speedy death. When then that 
 precedent, which was punished with Apostoli- 
 cal severity in the case of Ananias and Sap- 
 phira had by degrees faded from the minds 
 of some, owing to long carelessness and for- 
 getfulness from lapse of time, there arose the 
 race of Sarabaites, who owing to the fact 
 that they have broken away from the congre- 
 gations of the coenobites and each look 
 after their own affairs, are rightly named in 
 .the Egyptian language Sarabaites, 2 and these 
 spring from the number of those, whom we 
 have mentioned, who wanted to imitate rather 
 .than truly to aim at Evangelical perfection, 
 urged thereto by rivalry or by the praises of 
 those who preferred the complete poverty of 
 Christ to all manner of riches. These then 
 while in their feeble mind they make a pre- 
 tence of the greatest goodness and are forced 
 by necessity to join this order, while they are 
 anxious to be reckoned by the name of monks 
 without emulating their pursuits, in no sort 
 
 1 Heb. xi. 37, 38; Job xxxix. 5-S ; Ps. cvi. (cvii.) 2, 4-6; Lara, 
 iii. 27, 2S ; Ps. ci. (cii.) 7, 8. 
 
 2 Sarabaites, this third sort of monks, whom Cassian here paints 
 in such dark colours, are spoken of by S. Jerome (Ep. xxii. ad Eusto- 
 chium) under the name of Remoboth. The origin of both names is 
 obscure, but Jerome and Cassian are quite at one in their scorn for 
 these pretended monks. S. Benedict begins his monastic rule by 
 describing the four kinds of monks, coenobites, anchorites, sara- 
 baites, and a fourth class to which he gives the name of " gyrovagi," 
 i. e. , wandering monks ; these must be those of whom Cassian speaks 
 below in c. viii. without giving them any definite name. See further 
 Bingham, Antiquities VII. ii., arid the Dictionary of Christian An- 
 tiquities, Art. Sarabaites. 
 
 of way practise discipline, or are subject to 
 the will of the Elders, or, taught by their 
 traditions, learn to govern their own wills or 
 take up and properly learn any rule of sound 
 discretion ; but making their renunciation only 
 as a public profession, i.e., before the face of 
 men, either continue in their homes devoted 
 to the same occupations as before, though 
 dignified by this title, or building cells for 
 themselves and calling them monasteries re- 
 main in them perfectly free and their own 
 masters, never submitting to the precepts of 
 the gospel, which forbid them to be busied 
 with any anxiety for the day's food, or troubles 
 about domestic matters : commands which 
 those alone fulfil with no unbelieving doubt, 
 who have freed themselves from all the goods 
 of this world and subjected themselves to the 
 superiors of the ccenobia so that they cannot 
 admit that they are at all their own masters. 
 But those who, as we said, shirk the severity 
 of the monastery, and live two or three to- 
 gether in their cells, not satisfied to be under 
 the charge and rule of an Abbot, but arran- 
 ging chiefly for this; viz., that they may get 
 rid of the yoke of the Elders and have liberty 
 to carry out their wishes and go and wander 
 where they will, and do what they like, these 
 men are more taken up both day and night in 
 daily business than those who live in the 
 ccenobia, but not with the same faith and 
 purpose. For these Sarabaites do it not to 
 submit the fruits of their labours to the will 
 of the steward, but to procure money to lay 
 by. And see what a difference there is be- 
 tween them. For the others think nothing of 
 the morrow, and offer to God the most accept- 
 able fruits of their toil : while these extend 
 their faithless anxiety not only to the morrow, 
 but even to the space of many years, and 
 so fancy that God is either false or im- 
 potent as He either could not or would not 
 grant them the promised supply of food and 
 clothing. The one seek this in all their 
 prayers; viz., that they may gain bxu^uouiryv, 
 i.e., the deprivation of all things, and lasting 
 poverty : the other that they may secure a rich 
 quantity of all sorts of supplies. The one 
 eagerly strive to go beyond the fixed rule of 
 daily work that whatever is not wanted for 
 the sacred purposes of the monastery, may be 
 distributed at the will of the Abbot either 
 among the prisons, or in the guest-chamber 
 or in the infirmary or to the poor; the others 
 that whatever the day's gorge leaves over, 
 may be useful for extravagant wants or else 
 laid by through the sin of covetousness. 
 Lastly, if we grant that what has been col- 
 lected by them with no good design, may be 
 disposed of in better ways than we have men- 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PIAMUN. 
 
 433 
 
 tioned, yet not even thus do they rise to the 
 merits of goodness and perfection. For the 
 others bring in such returns to the monastery, 
 and daily report to them, and continue in such 
 humility and subjection that they are deprived 
 of their rights over what they gain by their 
 own efforts, just as they are of their rights 
 over themselves, as they constantly renew the 
 fervour of their original act of renunciation, 
 while they daily deprive themselves of the 
 fruits of their labours : but these are puffed 
 up by the fact that they are bestowing some- 
 thing on the poor, and daily fall headlong 
 into sin. The one party are by patience and 
 the strictness whereby they continue devoutly 
 in the order which they have once embraced, 
 so as never to fulfil their own will, crucified 
 daily to this world and made living martyrs; 
 the others are cast down into hell by the 
 lukewarmness of their purpose. These two 
 sorts of -monks then vie with each other in 
 almost equal numbers in this province ; but in 
 other provinces, which the need of the Catho- 
 lic faith compelled me to visit, we have found 
 that this third class of Sarabaites flourishes 
 and is almost the only one, since in the time 
 of Lucius who was a Bishop of Arian mis- 
 belief x in the reign of Valens, while we car- 
 ried alms 2 to our brethren; viz., those from 
 Egypt and the Thebaid, who had been con- 
 signed to the mines of Pontus and Armenia 3 
 for their steadfastness in the Catholic faith, 
 though we found the system of ccenobia in 
 some cities few and far between, yet we never 
 made out that even the name of anchorites 
 was heard among them. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Of a fourth sort of monks. 
 
 There is however another and a fourth 
 kind, which we have lately seen springing up 
 among those who flatter themselves with the 
 appearance and form of anchorites, and who 
 in their early days seem in a brief fervour 
 to seek the perfection of the ccenobium, but 
 presently cool off, and, as they dislike to put 
 an end to their former habits and faults, and 
 
 1 Lucius took the lead of the Arian party at Alexandria after the 
 murder of George of Cappadocia in 361, and was put forward by his 
 party as the candidate for the see which they regarded as vacant. 
 In 373, after the deatli of Athanasius, he was forced upon the reluc- 
 tant Church of Alexandria by the Arian Emperor Valens, and accord- 
 ing to Gregory Nazianzen a fresh persecution of the orthodox party 
 at once began ; and to this it is that Piamun alludes in the text. 
 
 2 Diaconia. The word is used again by Cassian for almsgiving 
 in Conf. XXI. i., viii., ix. , and cf. Gregory the Great, Ep. xxii., and 
 compare e'ts SiaxovCav in Acts xi. 29. 
 
 3 To work in the mines was apunishment'to which the Confessors 
 were frequently subjected in the time of persecution : Cf . the prayer 
 in the Liturgy of S. Mark that God would have mercy on those in 
 prison, or in the mines, etc. Hammond's Liturgies, p. 181. 
 
 are not satisfied to bear the yoke of humility 
 and patience any longer, and scorn to be in 
 subjection to the rule of the Elders, look out 
 for separate cells and want to remain by them- 
 selves alone, that as they are provoked by no- 
 body they may be regarded by men as patient, 
 gentle, and humble : and, this arrangement, 
 or rather this lukewarmness never suffers 
 those, of whom it has once got hold, to ap- 
 proach to perfection. For in this way their 
 faults are not merely not rooted up, but 
 actually grow worse, while they are excited by 
 no one, like some deadly and internal poison 
 which the more it is concealed, so much the 
 more deeply does it creep in and cause an 
 incurable disease to the sick person. For out 
 of respect for each man's own cell no one 
 ventures to reprove the faults of a solitary, 
 which he would rather have ignored than 
 cured. Moreover virtues are created not by 
 hiding faults but by driving them out. 
 
 . CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A question as to what is the difference between a ccenobium 
 and a monastery. 
 
 Germanus: Is there any distinction be- 
 tween a ccenobium and a monastery, or is 
 the same thing meant by either name? 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The answer. 
 
 Piamun : Although many people indiffer- 
 ently speak of monasteries instead of ccenobia, 
 yet there is this difference, that monastery is 
 the title of the dwelling, and means nothing 
 more than the place, i.e., the habitation of 
 monks, while ccenobium describes the cha- 
 racter of the life and its system : and monas- 
 tery may mean the dwelling of a single monk, 
 while a ccenobium cannot be spoken of except 
 where dwells a united community of a large 
 number of men living together. They are 
 however termed monasteries in which groups 
 of Sarabaites live. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Of true humility, and how Abbot Serapion exposed the mock 
 humility of a certain man. 
 
 Wherefore as I see that you have learnt 
 the first principles of this life from the best 
 sort of monks, i.e., that starting from the ex- 
 cellent school of the ccenobium you are aim- 
 
434 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 ing at the lofty heights of the anchorite's 
 rule, you should with genuine feeling of heart 
 pursue the virtue of humility and patience, 
 which I doubt not that you learnt there ; and 
 not feign it, as some do, by mock humility in 
 words, or by an artificial and unnecessary 
 readiness for some duties of the body. And 
 this sham humility Abbot Serapion 1 once 
 laughed to scorn most capitally. For when one 
 had come to him making a great display of his 
 lowliness by his dress and words, and the old 
 man urged him, after his custom, to "collect 
 the prayer " - he would not consent to his re- 
 quest, but debasing himself declared that he 
 was involved in such crimes that he did not 
 deserve even to breathe the air which is com- 
 mon to all, and refusing even the use of the 
 mat preferred to sit down on the bare ground. 
 But when he had shown still less inclination 
 for the washing of the feet, then Abbot Sera- 
 pion, when supper was finished, and the cus- 
 tomary Conference gave him an opportunity, 
 began kindly and gently to urge him not to 
 roam with shifty lightmindedness over the 
 whole world, idly and vaguely, especially as 
 he was young and strong, but to keep to his 
 cell in accordance with the rule of the Elders, 
 and to elect to be supported by his own efforts 
 rather than by the bounty of others ; which 
 even the Apostle Paul would not allow, and 
 though when he was labouring in the cause of 
 the gospel this provision might rightly have 
 been made for him, yet he preferred to work 
 night and da)', to provide daily food for him- 
 self and for those who were ministering to 
 him and could not do the work with their own 
 hands. Whereupon the other was filled with 
 such vexation and disgust that he could not 
 hide by his looks the annoyance which he felt 
 in his heart. To whom the Elder : Thus far, 
 my son, you have loaded yourself with the 
 weight of all kinds of crimes, not fearing lest 
 by the confession of such awful sins you bring 
 a reproach upon your reputation ; how is it 
 then, I pray, that now, at our simple admo- 
 nition, which involved no reproof, but simply 
 showed a feeling for your edification and love, 
 I see that you are moved with such disgust 
 that you cannot hide it by your looks, or con- 
 ceal it by an appearance of calmness? Per- 
 haps while you were humiliating yourself, you 
 were hoping to hear from our lips this saying: 
 "The righteous man is the accuser of him- 
 self in the opening of his discourse?" 3 
 Further, true humility of heart must be pre- 
 served, which comes not from an affected 
 humbling of body and in word, but from an 
 
 1 On Serapion see the note on Conf. V. i. 
 
 2 Orationem Colligere. See-the notes on the Institutes III. vii. 
 
 3 Prov. xviii. 17. 
 
 inward humbling of the soul: and this will 
 only then shine forth with clear evidences of 
 patience when a man does not boast about 
 sins, which nobody will believe, but, when 
 another insolently accuses him of them, thinks 
 nothing of it, and when with gentle equanimity 
 of spirit he puts up with wrongs offered to 
 him. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A question how true patience can be gained. 
 
 Germanus: We should like to know how 
 that calmness can be secured and maintained, 
 that, as when silence is enjoined on us we 
 shut the door of our mouth, and lay an em- 
 bargo on speech, so also we may be able to 
 preserve gentleness of heart, which sometimes 
 even when the tongue is restrained loses its 
 state of calmness within : and for this reason 
 we think that the blessing of gentleness can 
 only be preserved by one in a remote cell and 
 solitary dwelling. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The answer. 
 
 Piamun : True patience and tranquillity is 
 neither gained nor retained without profound 
 humility of heart: and if it has sprung from 
 this source, there will be no need either of 
 the good offices of the cell or of the refuge of 
 the desert. For it will seek no external sup- 
 port from anything, if it has the internal sup- 
 port of the virtue of humility, its mother and 
 its guardian. But if we are disturbed when 
 attacked by anyone it is clear that the founda- 
 tions of humility have not been securely laid 
 in us, and therefore at the outbreak even of a 
 small storm, our whole edifice is shaken and 
 ruinously disturbed. For patience would not 
 be worthy of praise and admiration if it only 
 preserved its purposed tranquillity when at- 
 tacked by no darts of enemies, but it is grand 
 and glorious because when the storms of 
 temptation beat upon it, it remains unmoved. 
 For wherein it is believed that a man is 
 annoyed and hurt by adversity, therein is he 
 strengthened the more ; and he is therein the 
 more exercised, wherein he is thought to be 
 annoyed. For everybody knows that patience 
 gets its name from the passions and endur- 
 ance, and so it is clear that no one can be 
 called patient but one who bears without an- 
 noyance all the indignities offered to him, 
 and so it is not without reason that he is 
 i praised by Solomon : " Better is the patient 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PIAMUN. 
 
 435 
 
 man than the strong, and he who restrains his 
 anger than he who takes a city; " and again: 
 " For a long-suffering man is mighty in pru- 
 dence, but a faint-hearted man is very fool- 
 ish. " * When then anyone is overcome by 
 a wrong, and blazes up in a fire of anger, we 
 should not hold that the bitterness of the in- 
 sult offered to him is the cause of his sin, but 
 rather the manifestation of secret weakness, in 
 accordance with the parable of our Lord and 
 Saviour which He spoke about the two 
 houses, 2 one of which was founded upon a 
 rock, and the other upon the sand, on both of 
 which He says that the tempest of rain and 
 waters and storm beat equally: but that one 
 which was founded on the solid rock felt no 
 harm at all from the violence of the shock, 
 while that which was built on the shifting and 
 moving sand at once collapsed. And it cer- 
 tainly appears that it fell, not because it was 
 struck by the rush of the storms and torrents, 
 but because it was imprudently built upon 
 the sand. For a saint does not differ from a 
 sinner in this, that he is not himself tempted 
 in the same way, but because he is not worsted 
 even by a great assault, while the other is over- 
 come even by a slight temptation. For the for- 
 titude of any good man would not, as we said, 
 be worthy of praise, if his victory was gained 
 without his being tempted, as most certainly 
 there is no room for victory where there is 
 no struggle and conflict : for " Blessed is the 
 man that endureth temptation, for when he has 
 been proved he shall receive the crown of life 
 which God hath promised to them that love 
 Him." 3 According to the Apostle Paul also 
 " Strength is made perfect " not in ease and 
 delights but "in weakness." "For behold," 
 says He, " f have made thee this day a forti- 
 fied city, and a pillar of iron, and a wall of 
 brass, over all the land, to the kings of Judah, 
 and to the princes thereof, and to the priests 
 thereof, and to all the people of the land. 
 And they shall fight against thee, and shall 
 not prevail : for f am with thee, saith the 
 Lord, to deliver thee." 4 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Of the example of patience given by a certain religious woman. 
 
 Of this patience then I want to give you at 
 least two examples: one of a certain religious 
 woman, who aimed at the virtue of patience 
 so eagerly that she not only did not avoid the 
 assaults of temptation, but actually made for 
 
 1 Prov. xvi. 32 ; xiv. 29. 
 
 2 Cf. S. Matt. vii. 24, 59. 
 
 8 S. James i. 12. 
 
 4 2 Cor. xii. 9 ; Jer. i. 18, 19. 
 
 herself occasions of trouble that she might 
 not cease to be tried more often. For this 
 woman as she was living at Alexandria and 
 was born of no mean ancestors, and was serv- 
 ing the Lord religiously in the house which 
 had been left to her by her parents, came to 
 Athanasius the Bishop, of blessed memory, 
 and entreated him to give her some other 
 widow to support, who was being provided 
 for at the expense of the Church. And, to 
 give her petition in her own words : " Give 
 me," she said, "one of the sisters to look 
 after. " When then the Bishop had com- 
 mended the woman's purpose because he saw 
 that she was very ready for a work of a mercy, 
 he ordered a widow to be chosen out of the 
 whole number, who was preferred to all the rest 
 for the goodness of her character, and her 
 grave and well-regulated life, for fear lest her 
 wish to be liberal might be overcome by the 
 fault of the recipient of her bounty, and she 
 who sought gain out of the poor might be 
 disgusted at her bad character and so suffer 
 an injury to her faith. And when the woman 
 was brought home, she ministered to her with 
 all kinds of service, and found out her excel- 
 lent modesty and gentleness, and saw that 
 every minute she was honoured by thanks 
 from her for her kind offices, and so after a 
 few days she came back to the aforesaid 
 Bishop, and said: I asked you to bid that a 
 woman be given to me for me to support and 
 to serve with obedient complaisance. And 
 when he, not yet understanding the woman's 
 object and desire, thought that her petition 
 had been neglected by the deceitfulness of the 
 superior, and inquired not without some anger 
 in his mind, what was the reason of the delay, 
 at once he discovered that a widow who was 
 better than all the rest had been assigned to 
 her, and so he secretly gave orders that the 
 one who was the worst of all should be given 
 to her, the one, I mean, who surpassed in 
 anger and quarrelling and wine-bibbing and 
 talkativeness all who were under the power 
 of these faults. And when she was only too 
 easily found and given to her, she began to 
 keep her at home, and to minister to her with 
 the same care as to the former widow, or even 
 more attentively, and this was all the thanks 
 which she got from her for her services ; viz. , to 
 be constantly tried by unworthy wrongs and 
 continually annoyed by her by reproaches 
 and upbraiding, as she complained of her, and 
 chid her with spiteful and disparaging re- 
 marks, because she had asked for her from 
 the Bishop not for her refreshment but rather 
 for her torment and annoyance, and had taken 
 her away from rest to labour instead of from 
 labour to rest. When then her continual re- 
 
486 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 proaches broke out so far that the wanton 
 woman did not restrain herself from laying 
 hands on her, the other only redoubled her 
 services in still humbler offices, and learnt to 
 overcome the vixen not by resisting her, but 
 by subjecting herself still more humbly, so 
 that, when provoked by all kinds of indig- 
 nities, she might smooth down the madness 
 of the shrew by gentleness and kindness. 
 And when she had been thoroughly strength- 
 ened by these exercises, and had attained the 
 perfect virtue of the patience she had longed 
 for, she came to the aforesaid Bishop to thank 
 him for his decision and choice as well as for 
 the blessing of her exercise, because he had 
 at last as she wished provided her with a most 
 worthy mistress for her patience, strengthened 
 daily by whose constant annoyance as by 
 some oil for wrestling, she had arrived at 
 complete patience of mind; and, at last, said 
 she, you have given me one to support, for 
 the former one rather honoured and refreshed 
 me by her services. This may be sufficient 
 to have told about the female sex, that by 
 this tale we may not only be edified, but even 
 confounded, as we cannot maintain our pa- 
 tience unless we are like wild beasts removed 
 in caves and cells. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Of the example of patience given by Abbot Paphnutius. 
 
 Now let us give the other instance of Abbot 
 Paphnutius, who always remained so zeal- 
 ously in the recesses of that renowned and 
 far-famed desert of Scete, in which he is now 
 Presbyter, so that the rest of the anchorites 
 gave him the name of Bubalis, 1 because he 
 always delighted in dwelling in the desert as 
 if with a sort of innate liking. And so as 
 even in boyhood he was so good and full of 
 grace that even the renowned and great men 
 of that time admired his gravity and steadfast 
 constancy, and although he was younger in 
 age, yet put him on a level with the Elders 
 out of regard for his virtues, and thought fit 
 to admit him to their order, the same envy, 
 which formerly excited the minds of his 
 brethren against the patriarch Joseph, in- 
 flamed one out of the number of his brethren 
 with a burning and consuming jealousy. And 
 this man wanting to mar his beauty by some 
 blemish or spot, hit on this kind of devilry, 
 so as to seize an opportunity when Paphnutius 
 had left his cell to go to Church on Sunday: 
 and secretly entering his cell he slyly hid his 
 
 1 i.e., the Buffalo. On Paphnutius see the note on Conf. III. 
 
 own book among the boughs which he used 
 to weave of palm branches, and, secure of his 
 well-planned trick, himself went off as if with 
 a pure and clean conscience to Church. And 
 when the whole service was ended as usual, 
 in the presence of all the brethren he brought 
 his complaint to S. Isidore 2 who was Presby- 
 ter of this desert before this same Paphnutius, 
 and declared that his book had been stolen 
 from his cell. And when his complaint had 
 so disturbed the minds of all the brethren, 
 and more especially of the Presbyter, so that 
 they knew not what first to suspect or think, 
 as all were overcome with the utmost astonish- 
 ment at so new and unheard of a crime, such 
 as no one remembered ever to have been com- 
 mitted in that desert before that time, and 
 which has never happened since, he who had 
 brought forward the matter as the accuser 
 urged that they should all be kept in Church 
 and certain selected men be sent to search 
 the cells of the brethren one by one. And 
 when this had been entrusted to three of the 
 Elders by the Presbyter, they turned over the 
 bed-chambers of them all, and at last found 
 the book hidden in the cell of Paphnutius 
 among the boughs of the palms which they 
 call (teiq&, just as the plotter had hidden it. 
 And when the inquisitors at once brought it 
 back to the Church and produced it before 
 all, Paphnutius, although he was perfectly 
 clear in the sincerity of his conscience, yet like 
 one who acknowledged the guilt of thieving, 
 gave himself up entirely to make amends and 
 humbly asked for a plan of repentance, as he 
 was so careful of his shame and modesty (and 
 feared) lest if he tried to remove the stain 
 of the theft by words, he might further be 
 branded as a liar, as no one would believe 
 anything but what had been found out. And 
 when he had immediately left the Church not 
 cast down in mind but rather trusting to the 
 judgment of God, he continually shed tears at 
 his prayers, and fasted thrice as often as 
 before, and prostrated himself in the sight of 
 men with all humility of mind. But when he 
 had thus submitted himself with all contrition 
 of flesh and spirit for almost a fortnight, so 
 that he came early on the morning of Satur- 
 day and Sunday not to receive the Holy Com- 
 munion 3 but to prostrate himself on the 
 threshold of the Church and humbly ask for 
 pardon, He, Who is the witness of all secret 
 things and knows them, suffered him to be no 
 
 2 Gazet thinks that this Isidore is the same person as the one 
 mentioned in the Lausiac History c. i.; and Sozomen VI. xxviii., 
 but doubts whether he is identical with the person of the same name 
 mentioned in Rufinus: History of the Monks c.xvii., Sozomen VIII. 
 xii., and Socrates VI. ix. 
 
 3 On the Saturday and Sunday celebration of the Holy Commun- 
 ion in Egypt compare the Institutes III. ii. In Gaul it was appar- 
 ently received daily: Institutes VI. viii. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PIAMUN. 
 
 487 
 
 longer tried by Himself or defamed by others. 
 For what the author of the crime, the wicked 
 thief of his own property, the cunning de- 
 famer of another's credit, had done with no 
 man there as a witness, that He made known 
 by means of the devil who was himself the 
 instigator of the sin. For possessed by a 
 most fierce demon, he made known all the 
 craft of his secret plot, and the same man who 
 had conceived the accusation and the cheat 
 betrayed it. But he was so long and griev- 
 ously vexed by that unclean spirit that he 
 could not even be restored by the prayers of the 
 saints living there, who by means of divine 
 gifts can command the devils, nor could the 
 special grace of the Presbyter Isidore himself 
 cast out from him his cruel tormenter, though 
 by the Lord's bounty such power was given 
 him that no one who was possessed was ever 
 brought to his doors without being at once 
 healed; for Christ was reserving this glory 
 for the young Paphnutius, that the man 
 should be cleansed only by the prayers of him 
 against whom he had plotted, and that the 
 jealous enemy should receive pardon for his 
 offence and an end of his present punishment, 
 only by proclaiming his name, from whose 
 credit he had thought that he could detract. 
 He then in his early youth already gave these 
 signs of his future character, and even in his 
 boyish years sketched the lines of that perfec- 
 tion which was to grow up in mature age. If 
 then we want to attain to his height of virtue, 
 we must lay the same foundation to begin 
 with. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 On the perfection of patience. 
 
 A twofold reason however led me to relate 
 this fact, first that we may weigh this stead- 
 fastness and constancy of the man, and as 
 we are attacked by less serious wiles of the 
 enemy, may the better secure a greater feeling 
 of calmness and patience, secondly that we 
 may with resolute decision hold that we can- 
 not be safe from the storms of temptation and 
 assaults of the devil if we make all the pro- 
 tection for our patience and all our confidence 
 consist not in the strength of our inner man 
 but in the doors of our cell or the recesses of 
 the desert, and companionship of the saints, 
 or the safeguard of anything else outside us. 
 For unless our mind is strengthened by the 
 power of His protection Who says in the 
 gospel "the kingdom of God is within you," x 
 in vain do we fancy that we can defeat the 
 plots of our airy foe by the aid of men who 
 
 1 S. Luke xvii. 21. 
 
 are living with us, or that we can avoid them 
 by distance of place, or exclude them by the 
 protection of walls. For though none of these 
 things was wanting to Saint Paphnutius yet 
 the tempter did not fail to find a way of ac- 
 cess against him to attack him ; nor did the 
 encircling walls, or the solitude of the desert 
 or the merits of all those saints in the con- 
 gregation repulse that most foul spirit. But 
 because the holy servant of God had fixed the 
 hope of his heart not on those external things 
 but on Him Who is the judge of all secrets, 
 he could not be moved even by the machi- 
 nations of such an assault as that. On the 
 other hand did not the man whom envy had 
 hurried into so grievous a sin enjoy the bene- 
 fit of solitude and the protection of a retired 
 dwelling, and intercourse with the blessed 
 Abbot and Presbyter Isidore and other saints? 
 And yet because the storm raised by the devil 
 found him upon the sand, it not only drove 
 in his house but actually overturned it. We 
 need not then seek for our peace in externals, 
 nor fancy that another person's patience can 
 be of any use to the faults of our impatience. 
 For just as "the kingdom of God is within 
 you," so "a man's foes are they of his own 
 household." 2 For no one is more my enemy 
 than my own heart which is truly the one of 
 my household closest to me. And therefore 
 if we are careful, we cannot possibly be in- 
 jured by intestine enemies. For where those 
 of our own household are not opposed to us, 
 there also the kingdom of God is secured in 
 peace of heart. For if you diligently investi- 
 gate the matter, I cannot be injured by any 
 man however spiteful, if I do not fight against 
 myself with warlike heart. But if I am in- 
 jured, the fault is not owing to the other's 
 attack, but to my own impatience. For as 
 strong and solid food is good for a man in 
 good health, so it is bad for a sick one. But 
 it cannot hurt the man who takes it, unless 
 the weakness of its recipient gives it its power 
 to hurt. If then any similar temptation ever 
 arises among brethren, we need never be 
 shaken out of the even tenor of our ways and 
 give an opening to the blasphemous snarls of 
 men living in the world, nor wonder that some 
 bad and detestable men have secretly found 
 their way into the number of the saints, 
 because so long as we are trodden down and 
 trampled in the threshing floor of this world, 
 the chaff which is destined for eternal fire is 
 quite sure to be mingled with the choicest of 
 the wheat. Finally if we bear in mind that 
 Satan was chosen among the angels, and 
 Judas among the apostles, and Nicholas the 
 
 2 S. Matt. x. 36. 
 
488 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 author of a detestable heresy among the 
 deacons, it will be no wonder that the basest 
 of men are found among the ranks of the 
 saints. For although some maintain that this 
 Nicholas was not the same man who was 
 chosen for the work of the ministry by the 
 Apostles, 1 nevertheless they cannot deny that 
 he was of the number of the disciples, all of 
 whom were clearly of such a character and so 
 perfect as those few whom we can now with 
 difficulty discover in the coenobia. Let us 
 then bring forward not the fall of the above- 
 mentioned brother, who fell in the desert 
 with so grievous a collapse, nor that horrible 
 stain which he afterwards wiped out by the co- 
 pious tears of his penitence, but the example 
 of the blessed Paphnutius; and let us not be 
 destroyed by the ruin of the former, whose 
 ingrained sin of envy was increased and made 
 worse by his affected piety, but let us imitate 
 with all our might the humility of the latter, 
 which in his case was no sudden production 
 of the quiet of the desert, but had been gained 
 among men, and was consummated and per- 
 fected by solitude. However you should 
 know that the evil of envy is harder to be 
 cured than other faults, for I should almost 
 say that a man whom it has once tainted with 
 the mischief of its poison is without a remedy. 
 For it is the plague of which it is figuratively 
 said by the prophet: "Behold I will send 
 among you serpents, basilisks, against which 
 there is no charm: and they shall bite you." 2 
 Rightly then are the stings of envy compared 
 by the prophet to the deadly poison of basi- 
 lisks, as by it the first author of all poisons 
 and their chief perished and died. For he 
 slew himself before him of whom he was en- 
 vious, and destroyed himself before that he 
 poured forth the poison of death against man: 
 for "by the envy of the devil death entered 
 into the world: they therefore who are on his 
 side follow him." 3 For just as he who was 
 the first to be corrupted by the plague of that 
 evil, admitted no remedy of penitence, nor 
 any healing plaster, so those also who have 
 given themselves up to be smitten by the same 
 pricks, exclude all the aid of the sacred 
 charmer, because as they are tormented not 
 by the faults but by the prosperity of those 
 of whom they are jealous, they are ashamed 
 to display the real truth and look out for some 
 external unnecessary and trifling causes of 
 
 1 As Cassian here implies, considerable doubt exists whether the 
 Nicholas from whom the sect of the Nicolaitans(Rev. ii. 15) derive their 
 name was the same person as Nicholas the last of the seven "dea- 
 cons " mentioned in Acts vi. 5. According to Irenasus (Haer. I. 
 xxvi.) the Nicolaitans themselves claimed him as their founder, and 
 the claim is allowed by Hippolytus (Philos. vii. § 36), Epiphanins 
 (H;er. I. ii. §25), and other writers of the fourth century. Clement 
 of Alexandria however disputes the claim (Strom. 1 1 T. iv. and cf. 
 Euseb. H. E. III. xxix.), as does Theodoret (Hsr. Tab. iii. 1). 
 2 Jer. viii. 17. 3 Wisd. ii. 24, 25. 
 
 offence : and of these, because they are alto- 
 gether false, vain is the hope of cure, Avhile 
 the deadly poison which they will not pro- 
 duce is lurking in their veins. Of which the 
 wisest of men has fitly said : "If a serpent 
 bite without hissing, there is no supply for 
 the charmer. " 4 For those are- silent bites, to 
 which alone the medicine of the wise is no 
 succour. For that evil* is so far incurable 
 that it is made worse by attentions, it is in- 
 creased by services, is irritated by presents, 
 because as the same Solomon says: "envy 
 endures nothing." 5 For just in proportion as 
 another has made progress in humble submis- 
 sion or in the virtue of patience or in the 
 merit of munificence, so is a man excited by 
 worse pricks of envy, because he desires no- 
 thing less than the ruin or death of the man 
 whom he envies. Lastly no submission on 
 the part of their harmless brother could soften 
 the envy of the eleven patriarchs, so that 
 Scripture relates of them: "But his brothers 
 envied him because his father loved him, and 
 they could not speak peaceably unto him" 6 
 until their jealousy, which would not listen to 
 any entreaties on the part of their obedient 
 and submissive brother, desired his death, 
 and would scarcely be satisfied with the sin 
 of selling a brother. It is plain then that 
 envy is worse than all faults, and harder to 
 get rid of, as it is inflamed by those remedies 
 by which the others are destroyed. For, for 
 example, a man who is grieved by a loss that 
 has been caused to him, is healed by a liberal 
 compensation : one who is sore owing to a 
 wrong done to him, is appeased by humble 
 satisfaction being made. What can you do 
 with one who is the more offended by the 
 very fact that he sees you humbler and kinder, 
 who is not aroused to anger by any greed 
 which can be appeased by a bribe ; or by any 
 injurious attack or love of vengeance, which 
 is overcome by obsequious services ; but is 
 only irritated by another's success and happi- 
 ness? But who is there who in order to 
 satisfy one who envies him, would wish to 
 fall from his good fortune, or to lose his 
 prosperity or to be involved in some calamity? 
 Wherefore we must constantly implore the 
 divine aid, to which nothing is impossible, in 
 order that the serpent may not by a single 
 bite of this evil destroy whatever is flourish- 
 ing in us, and animated as it were by the life 
 and quickening power of the Holy Ghost. 
 For the other poisons of serpents, i.e., carnal 
 sins and faults, in which human frailty is 
 easily entangled and from which it is as easily 
 purified, show some traces of their wounds 
 
 4 Eccl. 
 
 6 Prov. xxvii. 4. 
 
 6 Gen. xxxvii. 4. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOHN. 
 
 489 
 
 in the flesh, whereby although the earthly 
 body is most dangerously inflamed, yet if any 
 charmer well skilled in divine incantations 
 applies a cure and antidote or the remedy of 
 words of salvation, the poisonous evil does 
 not reach to the everlasting death of the soul. 
 .But the poison of envy as if emitted by the 
 basilisk, destroys the very life of religion and 
 faith, even before the wound is perceived in 
 the body. For he does not raise himself up 
 against men, but, in his blasphemy, against 
 God, who carps at nothing in his brother 
 except his felicity, and so blames no fault 
 of man, but simply the judgment of God. 
 This then is that "root of bitterness springing 
 up " x which raises itself to heaven and tends 
 to reproaching the very Author Who bestows 
 good things on man. Nor shall anyone be 
 disturbed because God threatens to send "ser- 
 pents, basilisks," 2 to bite those by whose 
 crimes He is offended. For although it is 
 
 certain that God cannot be the author of envy, 
 yet it is fair and worthy of the divine judg- 
 ment that, while good gifts are bestowed on 
 the humble and refused to the proud and 
 reprobate, those who, as the Apostle says, 
 deserve to be given over "to a reprobate 
 mind," 5 should be smitten and consumed by 
 envy sent as it were by Him, according to 
 this passage : " They have provoked me to 
 jealousy by them that are no gods: and I will 
 provoke them to jealousy by them that are 
 no nation." 6 
 
 By this discourse the blessed Piamun ex- 
 cited still more keenly our desire in which we 
 had begun to be promoted from the infant 
 school of the ccenobium to the second standard 
 of the anchorites' life. For it was under his 
 instruction that we made our first start in soli- 
 tary living, the knowledge of which we after- 
 wards followed up more thoroughly in Scete. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOHN. 
 
 ON THE AIM OF THE CCENOBITE AND HERMIT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Of the ccenobium of Abbot Paul and the patience of a certain 
 brother. 
 
 After only a few days we made our way 
 once more with great alacrity, drawn by the 
 desire for further instruction, to the ccenobium 
 of Abbot Paul, where though a greater number 
 than two hundred of the brethren dwell there, 
 yet, in honour of the festival which was then 
 being held, an enormous collection of monks 
 from other coenobia had come there as well : 
 for the anniversary of the death 3 of a former 
 Abbot who had presided over the same monas- 
 tery was being solemnly kept. And we have 
 mentioned this assembly for this reason that 
 we may briefly treat of the patience of a certain 
 brother, which was remarkable for immovable 
 gentleness on his part in the presence of all this 
 congregation. For though the object of this 
 work has regard to another person; viz., that 
 we may produce the utterances of Abbot John 4 
 
 1 Heb. xii. 15. - Jer. viii. 17. 
 
 3 Depositio. A word frequently used for the day of the death (or 
 burial) in Calendars and Martyrologies. 
 
 4 On this Abbot John compare the note on the Institutes V. xxviii. 
 
 who left the desert and submitted himself to 
 that ccenobium with the utmost goodness and 
 humility, yet we think it not at all absurd to 
 relate without any unnecessary verbiage, what 
 we think is most instructive to those who are 
 eager for goodness. And so when the whole 
 body of the monks was seated in separate 
 parties of twelve, in the large open court, 
 when one of the brethren had been rather slow 
 in fetching and bringing in a dish, the afore- 
 said Abbot Paul, who was busily hurrying 
 about among the troops of brethren who were 
 serving, saw it and struck him such a blow 
 before them all on his open palm that the 
 sound of the hand which was struck actually 
 reached the ears of those whose backs were 
 turned nd who were sitting some way off. 
 But the youth of remarkable patience received 
 it with such calmness of mind that not only 
 did he let no word fall from his mouth or give 
 the slightest sign of murmuring by the silent 
 movements of his lips, but actually did not 
 change colour in the slightest degree or (lose) 
 the modest and peaceful look about his mouth. 
 
 5 Rom. i. 28 
 
 c Deut. xxxii. 21. 
 
490 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 And this fact struck with astonishment not 
 merely us, who had lately come from a monas- 
 tery of Syria and had not learnt the blessing 
 of this patience by such clear examples, but all 
 those as well who were not without experience 
 of such earnestness, so that by it a great lesson 
 was taught even to those who were well ad- 
 vanced, because even if this paternal correc- 
 tion had not disturbed his patience, neither 
 did the presence of so great a number bring 
 the slightest sign of colour to his cheeks. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Of Abbot John's humility and our question. 
 
 In this coenobium then we found a very old 
 man named John, whose words and humility 
 we think ought certainly not to be passed over 
 in silence as in them he excelled all the saints, 
 as we know that he was especially vigorous in 
 this perfection, which though it is the mother 
 of all virtues and the surest foundation of 
 the whole spiritual superstructure, yet is alto- 
 gether a stranger to our system. Wherefore 
 it is no wonder that we cannot attain to the 
 height of those men, as we cannot stand the 
 training of the coenobium I will not say up 
 to old age, but are scarcely content to endure 
 the yoke of subjection for a couple of years, 
 and at once escape to enjoy a dangerous liberty, 
 while even for that short time we seem to be 
 subject to the rule of the Elder not according 
 to any strict rule, but as our free will directs. 
 When then we had seen this old man in Abbot 
 Paul's coenobium, we were struck, first by his 
 age and the' grace with which the man was 
 endowed, and with looks fixed on the ground 
 began to entreat him to vouchsafe to explain 
 to us why he had forsaken the freedom of the 
 desert and that exalted profession, in which 
 his fame and celebrity had raised him above 
 others who had adopted the same life, and 
 why he had chosen to enter under the yoke 
 of the coenobium. He said that as he was 
 unequal to the system of the anchorites and 
 unworthy of the heights of such perfection, he 
 had gone back to the infant school, that he 
 might learn to carry out the lessons taught 
 there, according as the life demanded. And 
 when our entreaties were not satisfied and 
 we refused to take this humble answer, at last 
 he began as follows. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Abbot John's answer why he had left the desert. 
 
 The system of the anchorites, which you are 
 surprised at my leaving, I not only neither re- 
 
 ject nor refuse, but rather embrace and regard 
 with the utmost veneration : in which system, 
 and after I had passed thirty years living in 
 a coenobium, I rejoice that I have also spent 
 twenty more, so that I can never be accused of 
 sloth among those who tried it in a half-hearted 
 way. But because its purity, of which I had 
 had some slight experience, was sometimes 
 soiled by the presence of anxiety about carnal 
 matters, it seemed better to return to the 
 coenobium to secure a readier attainment of 
 an easier aim undertaken, and less danger 
 from venturing on the higher life of the hum- 
 ble solitary. 1 For it is better to seem earnest 
 with smaller promises than careless in larger 
 ones. And therefore if possibly I bring for- 
 ward anything somewhat arrogantly and indeed 
 somewhat too freely, I beg that you will not 
 think it due to the sin of boasting but rather to 
 my desire for your edification ; and that, as I 
 think that, when you ask so earnestly, nothing 
 of the truth should be kept back from you, you 
 will set it down to love rather than to boast- 
 ing. For I think that some instruction may 
 be given to you if I lay aside my humility, 
 and simply lay bare the whole truth about my 
 aim. For I trust that I shall not incur any 
 reproach of vainglory from you because of the 
 freedom of my words, nor any charge of false- 
 hood from my conscience because of any sup- 
 pression of the truth. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Of the excellence which the aforesaid old man showed in the 
 system of the anchorites. 
 
 If then anyone else delights in the recesses 
 of the desert and would forget all human in- 
 tercourse and say with Jeremiah: "I have 
 not desired the day of man : Thou knowest," 2 
 I confess that by the blessing of God's 
 grace, I also secured or at any rate tried to 
 secure this. And so by the kind gift of the 
 Lord I remember that I was often caught up 
 into such an ecstasy as to forget that I was 
 clothed with the burden of a weak body, and 
 my soul on a sudden forgot all external 
 notions and entirely cut itself off from all 
 material objects, so that neither my eyes nor 
 ears performed their proper functions. And 
 my soul was so filled with divine meditations 
 
 1 The true reading, as given by Petschenig, appears to be the 
 following: Et minus de prcesumptce s-ublimioris prqfessionis humili- 
 tate pericuhan. It is probably on account of its difficulty that 
 humilitate has been altered iuto difficultate, as in the text of Gazet 
 (the two humilitate difficultate are found together in some MSS.) 
 But the fact appears to be that humilittis is here used for the life 
 of an anchorite, as in Conference XXIV. ix., where Abbot Abraham 
 uses the expression districtionem hujus humilitatis. The word is 
 also used in a somewhat similar sense in Conf. I. xx. and XI. ii. 
 
 2 Jer. xvii. 16. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOHN. 
 
 491 
 
 and spiritual contemplations that often in 
 the evening I did not know whether I had 
 taken any food and on the next day was very 
 doubtful whether I had broken my fast yester- 
 day. For which reason, a supply of food for 
 seven days, i.e., seven sets of biscuits were 
 set apart in a sort of hand-basket, 1 and laid 
 by on Saturday, that there might be no doubt 
 when supper had been omitted; and by this 
 plan another mistake also from forgetfulness 
 was obviated, for when the number of cakes 
 was finished it showed that the course of the 
 week was over, and that the services of the 
 same day had come round, and that the fes- 
 tival and holy day and services of the con- 
 gregation could not escape the notice of the 
 solitary. But even if that ecstasy of mind of 
 which we have spoken should happen to inter- 
 fere with this arrangement, yet still the method 
 of the days' work would show the number of 
 the days and check the mistake. And to pass 
 over in silence the other advantages of the 
 desert (for it is not our business to treat of 
 their number and quantity, but rather of the 
 aim of solitude and the ccenobium) I will the 
 rather briefly explain the reasons why I pre- 
 ferred to leave it, which you also wanted to 
 know, and will in a concise discourse glance 
 at all those fruits of solitude which I men- 
 tioned, and show to what greater advantages 
 on the other side they ought to be held 
 inferior. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Of the advantages of the desert. 
 
 So long then as owing to the fewness of 
 those who were then living in the desert, a 
 greater freedom was afforded to us in a wider 
 expanse of the wilderness, so long as in the 
 seclusion of larger retreats we were caught up 
 to those celestial ecstasies, and were not over- 
 whelmed by a great quantity of brethren to 
 visit us, and thus owing to the necessity 
 of showing hospitality overburdened in our 
 thoughts by the distractions of great cares, I 
 frequented with insatiable desire and all my 
 heart the peaceful retreats of the desert and 
 that life which can only be compared to the 
 bliss of the angels. But when, as I said, a 
 larger number of the brethren began to seek 
 a dwelling in that desert, and by cramping 
 the freedom of the vast wilderness, not only 
 caused that fire of divine contemplation to 
 grow cold, but also entangled the mind in 
 many ways in the chains of carnal matters, I 
 determined to carry out my purpose in this 
 
 1 In prochirio id est admanuensi sport a. 
 
 system rather than to grow cold in that sub- 
 lime mode of life, by providing for carnal 
 wants; so that, if that liberty and those spi- 
 ritual ecstasies are denied me, yet as all care 
 for the morrow is avoided, I may console my- 
 self by fulfilling the precept of the gospel, 
 and what I lose in sublimity of contemplation, 
 may be made up to me by submission and 
 obedience. For it is a wretched thing for a 
 man to profess to learn any art or pursuit, 
 and never to arrive at perfection in it. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Of the conveniences of the ccenobium. 
 
 Wherefore I will briefly explain what ad- 
 vantages I now enjoy in this manner of life. 
 You must consider my words and judge 
 whether those advantages of- the desert out- 
 weigh these comforts, and by this you will 
 also be able to prove whether I chose to be 
 cramped within the narrow limits of the cceno- 
 bium from dislike or from desire of that purity 
 of the solitary life. In this life then there is 
 no providing for the day's work, no distrac- 
 tions of buying and selling, no unavoidable 
 care for the year's food, no anxiety about 
 bodily things, by which one has to get ready 
 what is necessary not only for one's own wants 
 but also for those of any number of visitors, 
 finally no conceit from the praise of men, 
 which is worse than all these things and some- 
 times in the sight of God does away with the 
 good of even great efforts in the desert. But, 
 to pass over those waves of spiritual pride and 
 the deadly peril of vainglory in the life of 
 the anchorite, let us return to this general bur- 
 den which affects everybody, i.e., the ordinary 
 anxiety in providing food, which has so far 
 exceeded I say not the measure of that ancient 
 strictness which altogether did without oil, but 
 is beginning not to be content even with the 
 relaxation of our own time according to which 
 the requirements of all the supply of food for 
 a year were satisfied by the preparation of a 
 single pint of oil and a modius of lentils pre- 
 pared for the use of visitors ; but now the need- 
 ful supply of food is scarcely met by two or 
 three times that amount. And to such an extent 
 has the force of this dangerous relaxation 
 grown among some that, when they mix vine- 
 gar and sauce, they do not add that single drop 
 of oil, which our predecessors who followed 
 the rules of the desert with greater powers of 
 abstinence, were accustomed to pour in simply 
 for the sake of avoiding vainglory, 1 but they 
 
 1 Cf. Conference VIII. 
 
49 2 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 break an Egyptian cheese for luxury and pour 
 over it more oil than is required, and so take, 
 under a single pleasant relish, two sorts of 
 food which differ in their special flavour, each 
 of which ought singly to be a pleasant refresh- 
 ment at different times for a monk. To such 
 a pitch however has this tifaxty Kiijo-tg, i.e., ac- 
 quisition of material things grown, that actually 
 under pretence of hospitality and welcoming 
 guests anchorites have begun to keep a blanket 
 in their cells — a thing which I cannot men : 
 tion without shame — to omit those things by 
 which the mind that is awed by and intent 
 on spiritual meditation is more especially 
 hampered; viz., the concourse of brethren, the 
 duties of receiving the coming and speeding 
 the parting guest, visits to each other and the 
 endless worry of various confabulations and 
 occupations, the expectation of which owing 
 to the continuous character of these customary 
 interruptions keeps the mind on the stretch 
 even during the time when these bothers 
 seem to cease. And so the result is that the 
 freedom of the anchorite's life is so hindered 
 by these ties that it can never rise to that in- 
 effable keenness of heart, and thus loses the 
 fruits of its hermit life. And if this is now 
 denied to me while I am living in the congre- 
 gation and among others, at least there is no 
 lack of peace of mind and tranquillity of heart 
 that is freed from all business. And unless 
 this is ready at hand for those also who live 
 in the desert, they will indeed have to undergo 
 the labours of the anchorite's life, but will lose 
 its fruits which can only be gained in peaceful 
 stability of mind. Finally even if there is any 
 diminution of my purity of heart while I am 
 living in the ccenobium, I shall be satisfied by 
 keeping in exchange that one precept of the 
 Gospel, which certainly cannot be less es- 
 teemed than all those fruits of the desert ; I 
 mean that I should take no thought for the 
 morrow, and submitting myself completely to 
 the Abbot seem in some degree to emulate 
 Him of whom it is said: "He humbled Him- 
 self, and became obedient unto death;" and 
 so be able humbly to make use of His words: 
 " For I came not to do' mine own will, but the 
 will of the Father which sent me." x 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A question on the fruits of the ccenobium and the desert. 
 
 Germanus: Since it is evident that you 
 have not, like so many, just touched the mere 
 outskirts of each mode of life, but have 
 
 1 Phil. ii. 8; S. John vi. 3 S. 
 
 ascended to the very heights, we should like 
 to know what is the end of the coenobite's life 
 and what the end of the hermit's. For no one 
 can doubt that no man can discourse with 
 greater fulness or fidelity on these subjects 
 than one who, taught by long use and experi- 
 ence, has followed them both, and so can by 
 veracious teaching show us their value and 
 aim. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The answer to the question proposed. 
 
 John : I should absolutely maintain that one 
 and the same man could not attain perfection 
 in both lives unless I was hindered by the 
 example of some few. And since it is no 
 small matter to find a man who is perfect in, 
 either of them, it is clear how much harder 
 and I had almost said impossible it is for a 
 man to be thoroughly efficient in both. And 
 if this has ever happened, it cannot come 
 under any general rule. For a general rule 
 must be based not on exceptional instances, 
 i.e., on the experience of a very few, but on: 
 what is within the power of the many or rather 
 of all. But what is attained to here and 
 there by but one or two, and is beyond the 
 capacity of ordinary goodness, must be kept 
 out of general rules as something permitted 
 outside the condition and nature of human 
 weakness, and should be brought forward as 
 a miracle rather than as an example. Where- 
 fore I will, as my slender ability allows, briefly 
 intimate what you want to know. The aim 
 indeed of the coenobite is to mortify and 
 crucify all his desires and, according to that 
 salutary command of evangelic perfection, to 
 take no thought for the morrow. And it is 
 perfectly clear that this perfection cannot be 
 attained by any except a coenobite, such a man 
 as the prophet Isaiah describes and blesses 
 and praises as follows: "If thou turn away 
 thy foot from the Sabbath, from doing thy 
 own will in my holy da)% and glorify Him, 
 while thou dost not thine own ways, and thine 
 own will is not found to speak a word: then 
 shalt thou be delighted in the Lord, and I will 
 lift thee up above the high places of the earth, 
 and will feed thee with the inheritance of 
 Jacob thy father. For the mouth of the Lord 
 hath spoken it. " " But the perfection for a 
 hermit is to have his mind freed from all 
 earthly things, and to unite it, as far as 
 human frailty allows, with Christ : and such a 
 man the prophet Jeremiah describes when he 
 says: " Blessed is the man who hath borne the 
 
 2 Is. lviii. 13, r-4. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOHN. 
 
 493 
 
 yoke from his youth. He shall sit solitary 
 and hold his peace, because he hath taken it 
 upon himself;" the Psalmist also: "I am 
 become like a pelican in the desert. I 
 watched and became as a sparrow alone upon 
 the housetop." * To this aim then, which we 
 have described as that of either life, unless 
 each of them attains, in vain does the one 
 adopt the system of the ccenobium, and the 
 other of the hermitage: for neither of them 
 will get the good of his method of life. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Of true and complete perfection. 
 
 But this is //foixrj, i.e., no thorough and 
 altogether complete perfection, but only a 
 partial one. Perfection then is very rare 
 and granted by God's gift to but a very few. 
 For he is truly and not partially perfect 
 who with equal imperturbability can put up 
 with the squalor of the wilderness in the 
 desert, as well as the infirmities of the bre- 
 thren in the coenobium. And so it is hard to 
 find one who is perfect in both lives, be- 
 cause the anchorite cannot thoroughly acquire 
 uy-jiiuoavvi^ i.e., a disregard for and stripping 
 oneself of material things, nor the coenobite 
 purity in contemplation, although we know 
 that Abbot Moses and Paphnutius and the 
 two Macarii 2 were masters of both in perfec- 
 tion. And so they were perfect in either 
 life, and while they withdrew further than 
 all the dwellers in the desert and delighted 
 themselves unceasingly in the retirement of 
 the wilderness, and as far as in them lay 
 never sought intercourse with other men, yet 
 they put up with the presence and the infirm- 
 ities of. those who came to them so that when 
 a large number of the brethren came to them 
 for the sake of seeing them and profiting 
 by it, they endured this almost continuous 
 trouble of receiving them with imperturb- 
 able patience, and men fancied that all the 
 days of their life they had neither learnt nor 
 practised anything but how to show common 
 civility to those who came, so that it was a 
 puzzle to all to say in which life their zeal 
 was mainly shown, i.e., whether their great- 
 ness adapted itself more remarkably to the 
 purity of the hermitage or to the common life. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Of those who while still imperfect retire into the desert. 
 
 But some are sometimes so tantalized by 
 the silence of the desert lasting all through 
 
 1 Lam. iii. 27, 28; Ps. ci. (cii.) 7, 8. 
 
 2 . Moses, Paphnutius, and the two Macarii have all been men- 
 
 the day that they altogether dread intercourse 
 with men, and, when they have even for a 
 little while broken through their habit of 
 retirement owing to the accident of a visit 
 from some of the brethren, boil over with 
 marked vexation of mind, and show clear 
 signs of annoyance. And this especially 
 happens in the case of those who have betaken 
 themselves to the solitary life without a well- 
 matured purpose and without being thoroughly 
 trained in the ccenobium, as these men are 
 always imperfect and easily upset, and in- 
 cline to one side or the other, as the gales of 
 trouble may drive them. For as they boil over 
 impatiently at intercourse or conversation with 
 the brethren, so while they are living in solitude 
 they cannot stand the vastness of that silence 
 which they themselves have courted, inasmuch 
 as they themselves do not even know the 
 reason why solitude ought to be wanted and- 
 sought for, but imagine that the value and the 
 main part of this life consist in this; viz., in 
 avoiding intercourse with the brethren and 
 simply shunning and loathing the sight of a 
 man. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 A question how to cure those who have hastily left the 
 congregation of the ccenobium. 
 
 Germanus : By what treatment can any help 
 be given to us or to others who are thus weak 
 and only up to this; who had received but 
 little instruction in the system of the cceno- 
 bium when we began to aspire to dwell in 
 solitude before we had got rid of our faults; 
 or by what means shall we be able to acquire 
 the constancy of an imperturbable mind, and 
 immovable steadfastness of patience ; we who 
 all too soon gave up the common life in 
 the ccenobium, and forsook the schools and 
 training ground for these exercises, in which 
 our principles ought first to have been tho- 
 roughly schooled and perfected? How then 
 can we now while we are living alone gain per- 
 fection in long-suffering and patience ; or how 
 can conscience, that searcher out of inward 
 motives, discover whether these virtues exist 
 in us or are wanting, so that because we are 
 severed from intercourse with men, and not 
 irritated by any of their provocations, we may 
 not be deceived by false notions, and fancy 
 that we have gained that imperturbable peace 
 of mind? 
 
 tioned frequently before. On Moses (to whom the first two Con- 
 ferences are assigned) see the note on the Institutes X. xxv. ; on 
 Paphnutius see on Conference III. i. ; and on the two Macarii, the 
 Institutes V. xli. 
 
494 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The answer telling how a solitary can discover his faults. 
 
 John : To those who are really seeking relief, 
 healing remedies from the true Physician of 
 souls will certainly not be wanting; and to 
 those above all will they be given who do not 
 disregard their ill-condition (either because 
 they despair of it, or because they do not care 
 about it), nor hide the danger they are in from 
 their wound, nor in their wanton heart reject 
 the remedy of penitence, but with an humble 
 and yet careful heart flee to the heavenly 
 Physician for the diseases they have con- 
 tracted from ignorance or error or necessity. 
 And so we ought to know that if we retire to 
 solitude or secret places, without our faults 
 being first cured, their operation is but re- 
 pressed, while the power of feeling them is 
 not extinguished. For the root of all sins not 
 having been eradicated is still lying hid in us, 
 or rather creeping up, and that it is still alive 
 we can tell by these signs. For instance, if, 
 when we are living in solitude we receive the 
 approach of some brethren, or any very slight 
 tarrying on their part, with any anxiety or | 
 fretfulness of mind, we should recognize that 
 an incentive to the most hasty impatience is 
 still existing in us. But if when we are ho- 
 ping for the coming of a brother, and from 
 some cause he perhaps delays a little, our 
 mental indignation either silently blames his 
 slowness, and annoyance at this inconvenient 
 waiting disturbs our mind, the examination 
 of our conscience will show that the sin of 
 anger and vexation is plainly still remaining 
 in us. Again, if when a brother asks for our 
 book to read, or for some other article to use, 
 his request annoys us, or a refusal on our part 
 disgusts him, there can be no doubt that we 
 are still entangled in the meshes of avarice 
 or covetousness. But if a sudden thought or 
 a passage of Holy Scripture brings up the 
 recollection of a woman and we feel that we 
 are at all attracted towards her, we should 
 know that the fire of fornication is not yet 
 extinguished in us. But if on a comparison 
 of our own strictness with the laxity of another 
 even the slightest conceit tries our mind, it is 
 clear that we are affected with the dreadful 
 plague of pride. When then we detect these 
 signs of faults in our heart, we should clearly 
 recognize that it is only the opportunity and 
 not the passion of sin of which we are deprived. 
 And certainly these passions, if at any time 
 we were to mingle in the ordinary life of men, 
 would at once start up from their lurking 
 places in our thoughts and prove that they 
 did not then for the first time come into exist- 
 
 ence when they broke out, but that they were 
 then at last made public, because they had 
 been long lying hid. And so even a solitary 
 can detect by sure signs that the roots of each 
 fault are still implanted in him, if he tries 
 not to show his purity to men, but to main- 
 tain it inviolate in His sight, from whom no 
 secrets of the heart can be hid. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A question how a man can be cured who has entered on 
 solitude without having his faults eradicated. 
 
 Germanus: We very clearly and plainly 
 see the proofs by which the signs of infirmi- 
 ties are inferred, and the method of discern- 
 ing diseases, i.e., how the faults which are 
 concealed in us can be detected: for our every 
 day experience and the daily motions of our 
 thoughts show us all these as they have been 
 stated. It remains then that as the proofs 
 and causes of our maladies have been exposed 
 to us in a most clear way so their remedies 
 and cures may also be shown. For no one 
 can doubt that one who has first discovered 
 the grounds and beginnings of ailments, with 
 the approving witness of the conscience of 
 those affected, can best discourse on their 
 remedies. And so though the teaching of 
 your holiness has laid bare the secrets of our 
 wounds whereby we venture to have some 
 hope of a remedy, because so clear a dia- 
 gnosis of the disease gives promise of the hope 
 of a cure, yet because, as you say, the first 
 elements of salvation are acquired in the 
 ccenobium, and men cannot be in a sound 
 condition in solitude, unless they have first 
 been healed by the medicine of the cceno- 
 bium, we have fallen again into a dangerous 
 state of despair lest as we left the ccenobium 
 in an imperfect condition we may not now 
 that we are in the desert succeed in becoming 
 perfect. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The answer on their remedies. 
 
 John : For those who are anxious for the 
 cure of their ailments a saving remedy is sure 
 not to be wanting, and therefore remedies 
 should be sought by the same means that the 
 signs of each fault are discovered. For as 
 we have said that the faults of men's ordinary 
 life are not wanting to solitaries, so we do 
 not deny that all zeal for virtue, and all the 
 means of healing are at the disposal of all 
 those who are cut off from men's ordinary 
 life. When then anyone discovers by those 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT JOHN. 
 
 495 
 
 signs which we described above, that he is 
 attacked by outbreaks of impatience or anger, 
 he should always practise himself in the oppo- 
 site and contrary things, and by setting before 
 himself all sorts of injuries and wrongs, as if 
 offered to him by somebody else, accustom his 
 mind to submit with perfect humility to every- 
 thing that wickedness can bring upon him; 
 and by often representing to himself all kinds 
 of rough and intolerable things, continually 
 consider with all sorrow of heart with what 
 gentleness he ought to meet them. And, by 
 thus looking at the sufferings of all the saints, 
 or indeed at those of the Lord Himself, he 
 will admit that the various reproaches as well 
 as punishments are less than he deserves, and 
 prepare himself to endure all kinds of griefs. 
 And when occasionally he has been recalled 
 by some invitation to the assembly of the 
 brethren — a thing which cannot but happen 
 every now and then even to the strictest in- 
 mates of the desert, — if he finds that his mind 
 is silently disturbed even for trifles, he should 
 like some stern censor of his secret emotions 
 charge himself with all those various hard 
 wrongs, to the perfect endurance of which he 
 was training himself by his daily meditations, 
 and blaming and chiding himself as follows, 
 say: My good man, are you the fellow who 
 while training yourself in the practising 
 ground of solit.ude, ventured most deter- 
 minedly to think that you would get the 
 better of all bad qualities, and who just now, 
 when you were representing to yourself not 
 only all sorts of bitter reproaches, but also 
 intolerable punishments, fancied that you 
 were pretty strong and able to stand against 
 all storms ? How is it that that unconquered 
 patience of yours is upset by the first trial 
 even of a light word? How is it that even a 
 gentle breeze has shaken that house of yours 
 which you fancied was built so strongly on the 
 solid rock? Where is that which you an- 
 nounced when during a time of peace you 
 were in your foolish confidence longing for 
 war? "I am ready, and am not troubled;" 
 and this which you used often to say with the 
 prophet : " Prove me, O Lord, and try me 
 search out my reins and my heart;" and 
 "prove me, O Lord, and know my heart 
 question me and know my paths ; and see if 
 there be any way of wickedness in me." 1 
 How has a tiny ghost of an enemy frightened 
 your grand preparations for war? With such 
 reproaches and remorse a man should con- 
 demn himself and not allow the sudden temp- 
 tation which has upset him to go unpunished, 
 but by chastising his flesh with a severer 
 
 1 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 60; xxv. (xxvi.) 2; cxxxviii. (cxxxix.) 23, 24. 
 
 penalty of fasting and vigils; and, by punish- 
 ing his sin of lightness of mind by continual 
 pains of self-restraint, he should while living 
 in solitude consume in this fire of practice 
 what he ought to have thoroughly driven out 
 in the life of the ccenobium. This at any 
 rate we must firmly and resolutely hold to in 
 order to secure a lasting and unbroken pa- 
 tience; viz., that for us, to whom by the 
 Divine law not merely vengeance for, but 
 even the recollection of injuries is forbidden, 
 it is not permissible to be roused to anger 
 because of some loss or annoyance. For 
 what greater injury can happen to the soul than 
 for it, owing to some sudden blindness from 
 rage, to lose the brightness of the true and 
 eternal light and to fail of the sight of Him 
 "Who is meek and lowly of heart? " 2 What 
 I ask could be more dangerous or awkward 
 than for a man to lose his power of judging 
 of goodness, and his standard and rule of 
 true discernment, and for one in his sober 
 senses to do what even a drunken man, and a 
 fool would not be pardoned for doing? One 
 then who carefully considers these and other 
 injuries of the same kind, will readily endure 
 and disregard not only all kinds of losses, but 
 also whatever wrongs and punishments can 
 be inflicted by the cruellest of men, as he 
 will hold that there is nothing more dama- 
 ging than anger, nor more valuable than peace 
 of mind and unbroken purity of heart, for the 
 sake of which we should think nothing of the 
 advantages not merely of carnal matters but 
 also of those things which appear to be spi- 
 ritual, if they cannot be gained or done with- 
 out some disturbance of this tranquillity. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A question whether chastity ought to be ascertained just as 
 the other feelings. 
 
 Germanus : As the cure for other ailments, 
 viz., anger, vexation, and impatience, has 
 been shown to consist in opposing to them 
 their contraries, so also we should like to 
 learn what sort of treatment we ought to use 
 against the spirit of fornication : I mean, 
 whether the fire of lust can be quenched 
 by the representation, as in those other cases, 
 of greater inducements and things to excite 
 it: because not merely to increase the incen- 
 tives to lust within us, but even to touch them 
 with a passing look of the mind, we believe 
 to be utterly fatal to chastity. 
 
 - S. Matt. xi. 29. 
 
496 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The answer giving the proofs by which it can be recognized. 
 
 John : Your shrewd question has antici- 
 pated the subject, which even if you had said 
 nothing must have arisen from our discourse, 
 and therefore I do not doubt that it will be 
 effectually grasped by your minds, since in- 
 deed your sharp wits have outstripped our 
 instruction. For the puzzle of any question 
 is easily removed, when the inquiry antici- 
 pates the answer, and is the first to travel 
 along the road which it is to follow. And so 
 to the treatment of those faults of which we 
 have spoken above, intercourse with other men 
 is not merely no hindrance, but a considerable 
 help, for the more often that the outbursts of 
 their impatience are exposed, the more tho- 
 rough is the sorrow and compunction which 
 they bring on those who have failed, and the 
 speedier is the recovery of health which they 
 confer on those who struggle against them. 
 Wherefore even when we are living in solitude, 
 though the incentive to irritation and matter 
 for it cannot arise from men, yet we ought of 
 set purpose to meditate on incitements to it, 
 that as we are fighting against it with a con- 
 tinual struggle in our thoughts a speedier cure 
 for it may be found for us. But against the 
 spirit of fornication the system is different, 
 and the method an altered one. For as we 
 must deprive the body of opportunities of lust, 
 and contact with flesh, so we must deprive the 
 mind of the recollection of it. For it is suffi- 
 ciently dangerous for bosoms that are still 
 weak and infirm even to tolerate the slight- 
 
 est recollection of this passion, in such a way 
 that sometimes at the remembrance of holy 
 women, or in reading a story in Holy Scrip- 
 ture a stimulus of dangerous excitement is 
 aroused. For which reason our Elders used 
 deliberately to omit passages of this kind when 
 any of the juniors were present. However for 
 those who are perfect and established in the 
 feelings of chastity there can be no lack of 
 proofs by which they may examine themselves, 
 and establish their perfect uprightness of 
 heart by the uncorrupted judgment of their 
 own conscience. There will then be for the 
 man who is thoroughly established a similar 
 test even in regard to this passion, so that 
 one who is sure that he has altogether exter- 
 minated the roots of this evil may for the sake 
 of ascertaining his chastity, call up some 
 picture as with a lascivious mind. But it is 
 by no means proper for such a test to be at- 
 tempted by those who are still weak (for to 
 them it will be dangerous rather than use- 
 ful), ut conjunctionem femineam et palpatio- 
 nem quodammodo teneram atque mollissimam 
 corde pertractent. Cum ergo perfecta quis vir- 
 tute fundatus ad illecebram blandissimorum 
 tactuum, quos cogitando confinxerit, nullum 
 mentis assensum, nullam commotionem carnis 
 in se deprehenderit exagitatam, he will have 
 a very sure proof of his purity, so that train- 
 ing himself to this steadfast purity he will not 
 only possess the blessing of chastity and free- 
 dom from defilement in his heart, but even if 
 he is obliged to touch the body of a woman, 
 he will be horrified at it. 
 
 With this Abbot John brought his Confer- 
 ence to an end, as he saw that it was just time 
 for the refreshment of the ninth hour. 
 
 XX. 
 
 CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PINUFIUS. 
 
 ON THE END OF PENITENCE AND THE MARKS OF SATISFACTION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Of the humility of Abbot Pinufius, and of his hiding-place. 
 
 Now that I am going to relate the precepts 
 of that excellent and remarkable man, Abbot 
 Pinufius, on the end of penitence, I fancy that 
 I can dispose of a very large part of my mate- 
 rial, if out of consideration lest I weary my 
 
 reader, I here pass over in silence the praise 
 of his humility, which I touched on in a brief 
 discourse in the fourth book of the Institutes, 1 
 which was entitled " Of the rules to be ob- 
 served by renunciants," especially as many 
 who have no knowledge of that work, may 
 happen to read this, and then all the authority. 
 
 1 Cf. Institutes IV. c. xxx., xxxi. Nothing further is known of 
 Pinufius than what we gather from these passages of Cassian. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PINUFIUS. 
 
 497 
 
 of the utterances will be weakened if there is 
 no account of the virtues of the speaker. For 
 this man when he was presiding as Abbot 
 and Presbyter over a large coenobium not far 
 from Panephysis, a city, as was there said, of 
 Egypt, and when all that province had praised 
 him to the skies for his virtues and miracles, 
 so that he already seemed to himself to have 
 received the reward of his labours in the re- 
 muneration of the praise of men, as he was 
 afraid lest the emptiness of popular favour, 
 which he especially disliked, might interfere 
 with the fruits of an eternal reward, he secretly 
 fled from his monastery and made his way to 
 the furthest recesses of the monks of Tabennae, 1 
 where he chose not the solitude of the desert, 
 not that freedom from care of which the life 
 of one alone affords, which even those who 
 are imperfect and who cannot endure the effort 
 which obedience requires in the coenobium, 
 sometimes seek after with proud presumption, 
 but he chose to submit himself to a most 
 famous monastery. Where, however, that he 
 might not be betrayed by any signs of his 
 dress, he clothed himself in a secular garb, 
 and lay before the doors with tears, as is the 
 custom there, for many days, and clinging to 
 the knees of all after being daily repulsed by 
 those who to test his purpose said that now in 
 extreme old age he was seeking this holy life 
 not in sincerity, but driven by the lack of 
 food, at last he obtained admission, and there 
 he was told off to help a young brother who 
 had been given the charge of a garden, and 
 when he not only fulfilled with such marvel- 
 lous and holy humility everything which his 
 chief ordered him or which the care of the 
 work entrusted to him demanded, but also 
 performed in stealthy labour by night certain 
 necessary offices which were avoided by the 
 rest out of disgust for them, so that when 
 morning dawned, all the congregation was 
 delighted at such useful works but knew not 
 their author; and when he had passed nearly 
 three years there rejoicing in the labours, 
 which he had desired, but to which he was so 
 unfairly subjected, it happened that a certain 
 brother known to him came there from the 
 same parts of Egypt from which he himself 
 had come. And this man for a time hesitated 
 because the meanness of his clothes and of 
 his office prevented him from readily recog- 
 nizing him at once, but after looking very 
 closely at him, fell at his feet, and first as- 
 tonished all the brethren, and afterwards, 
 when he betrayed his name, which the fame of 
 his special sanctity had made known to them 
 also, he smote them with sorrow and com- 
 
 1 On Tabenna or Tabenna see the note on the Institutes IV. i. 
 
 punction because they had told off a man of 
 his virtues and a priest to such mean offices. 
 But he, shedding copious tears, and charging 
 the serious accident of his betrayal to the 
 envy of the devil, was brought in honourable 
 custody by his brethren surrounding him to 
 the monastery; and after that he had stayed 
 there for a short time, he was once more 
 troubled by the respect shown to his dignity 
 and rank, and stealthily embarked on board 
 ship and sailed to the Palestinian province of 
 Syria, where he was received as a beginner 
 and a novice in the house of that monastery 
 in which we were living, and was charged by 
 the Abbot to stop in our cell. But not even 
 there could his virtues and merits long remain 
 secret. For he was discovered and betrayed 
 in the same way, and brought back to his 
 own monastery with the utmost honour and 
 respect. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Of our coming to him. 
 
 When then after no long time a desire for 
 holy instruction had urged us also to visit 
 Egypt, we sought him out with the utmost 
 eagerness and devotion and were welcomed by 
 him with such kindness and courtesy that he 
 actually honoured us, as former sharers of the 
 same cell with him, with a lodging in his own 
 cell which he had built in the furthest corner of 
 his garden. And there when in the presence 
 of all the brethren at service he had delivered 
 to one of the brethren who was submitting to 
 the rule of the monastery sufficiently difficult 
 and elevated precepts, which as we said, I 
 summarized as briefly as I could in the fourth 
 book of the Institutes, the heights of a true 
 renunciation seemed to us so unattainable and 
 so marvellous that we did not think that such 
 humble folks as we could ever scale them. 
 And therefore, cast down in despair, and not 
 concealing in our looks the inner bitterness 
 of our thoughts, we came back to the blessed 
 old man with a tolerably anxious heart: and 
 when he at once asked the reason why we 
 were so sad, Abbot Germanus groaned deeply 
 and replied as follows. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A question on the end of penitence and the marks of 
 satisfaction. 
 
 As your grand and splendid exposition of 
 a doctrine new to us has opened out to us a 
 more difficult road to the most glorious re- 
 
CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 nunciation, and has removed the scales from 
 our eyes, and shown to us its summit raised 
 in the heavens, so are we proportionately cast 
 down with a greater weight of despair. Since, 
 when we measure its vastness against our 
 puny strength, and compare the excessively 
 humble character of our ignorance with the 
 boundless height of virtue shown to us, we 
 feel that we are so small that we not only 
 cannot attain to it, but that we are sure to 
 fall short in what we have. For as we are 
 weighed down by the burden of excessive 
 despair, we fall away somehow from the low- 
 est depths to still lower ones. Accordingly 
 there is one and only one support which can 
 provide a cure for our wounds; viz., for us 
 to learn something of the end of penitence 
 and especially of the marks of satisfaction, 
 that we may feel sure of the forgiveness of 
 past sins, and so be spurred on to scale the 
 heights of the perfection described above. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The answer on the humility shown by our request. 
 
 Pinufius: I am indeed delighted at the 
 very plentiful fruits of your humility, which 
 indeed I saw with no indifferent concern, 
 when I was formerly received in the habita- 
 tion of that cell of yours, and I am very glad 
 that you welcome with such respect the charge 
 given by us, the least of all Christians, and the 
 words that I have taken the liberty of saying 
 so that if I am not mistaken you carry them 
 out as soon as ever they are spoken by us; 
 and though, as I remember, the importance 
 of the words scarcely deserves the efforts you 
 bestow on them, yet you so conceal the merits 
 of your virtue, as if no breath ever reached 
 you of those things which you are daily prac- 
 tising. But because this fact is worthy of 
 the highest praise; viz., that you declare that 
 those institutes of the saints are still unknown 
 to you as if you were still beginners we will, 
 as briefly as possible, summarize what you 
 so eagerly ask of us. For we must even be- 
 yond our powers and ability, obey the com- 
 mands of such old friends as you. And so 
 on the value and appeasing power of peni- 
 tence many have published a great deal, not 
 only in words but also in writing, showing 
 how useful it is, how strong, and full of grace, 
 so that when God is offended by our past sins, 
 and on the point of inflicting a most just 
 punishment for such offences, it somehow, if 
 it is not wrong to say so, stops Him, and, if 
 I may so say, stays the right hand of the 
 Avenger even against His will. But I have 
 
 no doubt that all this is well known to you, 
 either from your natural wisdom, or from your 
 unwearied study of Holy Scripture, so that 
 from this the first shoots, so to speak, of your 
 conversion sprang up. Finally, you are an- 
 xious not about the character of penitence but 
 about its end, and the marks of satisfaction, 
 and so by a very shrewd question ask what 
 has been left out by others. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Of the method of penitence and the proof of pardon. 
 
 Wherefore in order to satisfy as briefly 
 and shortly as possible, your desire and ques- 
 tion, the full and perfect description of peni- 
 tence is, never again to yield to those sins for 
 which we do penance, or for which our con- 
 science is pricked. But the proof of satis- 
 faction and pardon is for us to have expelled 
 the love of them from our hearts. For each 
 one may be sure that he is not yet free from 
 his former sins as long as any image of those 
 sins which he has committed or of others like 
 them dances before his eyes, and I will not say 
 a delight in — but the recollection of — them 
 haunts his inmost soul while he is devoting 
 himself to satisfaction for them and to tears. 
 And so one who is on the watch to make 
 satisfaction may then feel sure that he is free 
 from his sins and that he has obtained pardon 
 for past faults, when he never feels that his 
 heart is stirred by the allurements and imagi- 
 nations of these same sins. Wherefore the 
 truest test of penitence and witness of pardon 
 is found in our own conscience, which even 
 before the day of judgment and of knowledge, 
 while we are still in the flesh, discloses our 
 acquittal from guilt, and reveals the end of 
 satisfaction and the grace of forgiveness. 
 And that what has been said may be more 
 significantly expressed, then only should we 
 believe that the stains of past sins are forgiven 
 us, when the desires for present delights as 
 well as the passions have been expelled from 
 our heart. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A question whether our sins ought to be remembered out of 
 contrition of heart. 
 
 Germanus: And whence can there be 
 aroused in us this holy and salutary contri- 
 tion from humiliation, which is described as 
 follows in the person of the penitent: "I 
 have acknowledged my sin, and mine unright- 
 eousness have I not hid. I said: I will 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PINUFIUS. 
 
 499 
 
 acknowledge against myself mine unrighteous- 
 ness to the Lord," so that we may be able 
 effectually to say also what follows: "And 
 Thou forgavest the iniquity of my heart ; " x 
 or how, when we kneel in prayer shall we be 
 able to stir ourselves up to tears of confession, 
 by which we may be able to obtain pardon 
 for our offences, according to these words: 
 " Every night will I wash my bed : I will water 
 my couch with tears ; " 2 if we expel from our 
 hearts all recollection of our faults, though 
 on the contrary we are bidden carefully to 
 preserve the remembrance of them, as the 
 Lord says: "And thine iniquities I will not 
 remember: but do thou recollect them?" 3 
 Wherefore not only when I am at work, but 
 also when I am at prayer I try of set purpose 
 to recall to my mind the recollection of my 
 sins, that I may be more effectually inclined 
 to true humility and contrition of heart, and 
 venture to say with the prophet : " Look upon 
 my humility and my labour: and forgive me 
 all my sins." 4 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The answer showing how far we ought to preserve the 
 recollection of previous actions. 
 
 Pinufius: Your question, as has been al- 
 ready said above, was not raised with regard 
 to the character of penitence, but with regard 
 to its end, and the marks of satisfaction : to 
 which, as I think, a fair and pertinent reply 
 has bean given. But what you have said as 
 to the remembrance of sins is sufficiently 
 useful and needful to men who are still 
 doing penance, that they may with constant 
 smiting of the breast say: " For I acknowledge 
 my wickedness: and my sin is ever before 
 me;" and this too: "And I will think for 
 my sin." 5 While then we do penance, and 
 are still grieved by the recollection of faulty 
 actions, the shower of tears which is caused 
 by the confession of our faults is sure to 
 quench the fire of our conscience. But when, 
 while a man is still in this state of humility 
 of heart and contrition of spirit and continu- 
 ing to labour and to weep, the remembrance 
 of these things fades away, and the thorns 
 of conscience are by God's grace extracted 
 from his inmost heart, then it is clear that he 
 has attained to the end of satisfaction and the 
 reward of pardon, and that he is purged from 
 the stain of the sins he has committed. To 
 which state of forgetfulness we can only attain 
 by the obliteration of our former sins and 
 
 1 Ps. xxxi. (xxxii.) 5, 6. i Ps. xxiv. (xxv.) iS. 
 
 2 Ps. vi. 7. 6 Ps. 1. (li.) 5; xxxvii. (xxxviii.) 19. 
 s Is. xliii. 25, 26. 
 
 likings, and by perfect and complete purity 
 of heart. And this most certainly will not 
 be attained by any of those who from sloth 
 or carelessness have failed to purge out their 
 faults, but only by one who by constantly 
 continuing to groan and sigh sorrowfully has 
 removed every spot of his former stains, and 
 by the goodness of his heart and his labour 
 has proclaimed to the Lord: " I have acknow- 
 ledged my sin, and mine unrighteousness have 
 I not hid;" and: "My tears have been my 
 meat day and night;" so that in the end it 
 may be vouchsafed to him to hear these words : 
 " Let thy voice cease from weeping, and thine 
 eyes from tears : for there is a reward for thy 
 labour, saith the Lord;" and these words 
 also may be uttered of him by the voice of the 
 Lord: "I have blotted out as a cloud thine 
 iniquities, and as a mist thy sins : " and again : 
 " I even I am He that blotteth out thine in- 
 iquities for mine own sake, and thine offences 
 I will no longer remember; " 7 and so, when he 
 is freed from the "cords of his sins," by 
 which "everyone is bound," b he will with all 
 thanksgiving sing to the Lord : " Thou hast 
 broken my chains : I will offer to thee the 
 sacrifice of praise." 9 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Of the various fruits of penitence. 
 
 For after that grace of baptism which is 
 common to all, and that most precious gift of 
 martyrdom which is gained by being washed 
 in blood, there are many fruits of penitence 
 by which we can succeed in expiating our sins. 
 For eternal salvation is not only promised to 
 the bare fact of penitence, of which the blessed 
 Apostle Peter says: ".Repent and be con- 
 verted that your sins maybe forgiven;" and 
 John the Baptist and the Lord Himself: 
 " Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at 
 hand : " 10 but also by the affection of love is 
 the weight of our sins overwhelmed: for 
 "charity covers a multitude of sins." 11 In 
 the same way also by the fruits of almsgiving 
 a remedy is provided for our wounds, because 
 "As water extinguishes fire, so does almsgiv- 
 ing extinguish sin." 12 So also by the shed- 
 ding of tears is gained the washing away of 
 offences, for " Every night I will wash my 
 bed: I will water my couch with tears." 
 Finally to show that they are not shed in 
 vain, he adds: "Depart from me all ye that 
 
 c Ps. xxxi. (xxxii.) 5 ; xli. 'xlii.) 4; Jer. xxxi. 16. 
 
 7 Is. xliv. 22 ; xliii. 25. 10 Acts iii. 19 ; S. Matt. iii. 2. 
 
 8 Prov. v. 22. u 1 Pet. iv. S. 
 
 9 Ps. cxv. 16, 17. 12 Ecclus. iii. 33. 
 
5oo 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 work iniquity, for the Lord hath heard the 
 voice of my weeping." a Moreover by means 
 of confession of sins, their absolution is 
 granted: for "I said: I will confess against 
 myself my sin to the Lord : and Thou forgav- 
 est the iniquity of my heart;" and again: 
 "Declare thine iniquities first, that thou 
 mayest be justified." ' 2 By afflicting the heart 
 and body also is forgiveness of sins com- 
 mitted in like manner obtained, for he says: 
 "Look on my humility and my labour, and 
 forgive me all my sins; " and more especially 
 by amendment of life : " Take away," he says, 
 "the evil of your thoughts from mine eyes. 
 Cease to do evil, learn to do well. Seek 
 judgment, relieve the oppressed: judge the 
 orphan, defend the widow. And come, reason 
 with Me, saith the Lord: and though your 
 sins were as scarlet, yet shall they be as white 
 as snow, though they were red as crimson, they 
 shall be as white as wool." 3 Sometimes too 
 the pardon of our sins is obtained by the in- 
 tercession of the saints, for " if a man knows 
 his brother to sin a sin not unto death, he 
 asks, and He will give to him his life, for him 
 that sinneth not unto death; " and again: " Is 
 any sick among you ? Let him send for the 
 Elders of the Church and they shall pray over 
 him, anointing him with oil in the name of 
 the Lord. And the prayer of faith shall save 
 the sick, and the Lord will raise him up, and 
 if he be in sins, they shall be forgiven him." 4 
 Sometimes too by the virtue of compassion 
 and faith the stains of sin are removed, ac- 
 cording to this passage: "By compassion and 
 faith sins are purged away." 5 And often 
 by the conversion and salvation of those who 
 are saved by our warnings and preaching: 
 " For he who converts a sinner from the error 
 of his way, shall save his soul from death, 
 and cover a multitude of sins." 6 Moreover 
 by pardon and forgiveness on our part we 
 obtain pardon of our sins: "For if ye forgive 
 men their offences, your heavenly Father will 
 also forgive you your sins." 7 You see then 
 what great means of obtaining mercy the com- 
 passion of our Saviour has laid open to us, so 
 that no one when longing for salvation need 
 be crushed by despair, as he sees himself 
 called to life by so many remedies. For if 
 you plead that owing to weakness of the flesh 
 you cannot get rid of your sins by fasting, and 
 you cannot say : " My knees are weak from 
 fasting, and my flesh is changed for oil ; for I 
 have eaten ashes for my bread, and mingled 
 my drink with weeping," 8 then atone for them 
 
 1 Ps. vi. 7, 9. - Ps. xxxi. (xxxii.) 5; Is. xliii. 26. 
 
 3 Ps. xxiv. (xxv.) 18; Is. i. 16-1S. ° S. James v. 20. 
 
 4 1 John v. 16; S. James v. 14, 15- 7 S. Matt. vi. 14. 
 
 B Prov. xv. 27. ' 8 Ps. cviii. (cix.) 24; ci. (cii.) 10. 
 
 by profuse almsgiving. If you have nothing 
 that you can give to the needy (although the 
 claims of want and poverty exclude none from 
 this office, since the two mites of the widow 
 are ranked higher than the splendid gifts of 
 the rich, and the Lord promises that He will 
 give a reward for a cup of cold water), at least 
 you can purge them away by amendment of 
 life. But it you cannot secure perfection in 
 goodness by the eradication of all your faults, 
 you can show a pious anxiety for the good and 
 salvation of another. But if you complain 
 that you are not equal to this service, you can 
 cover your sins by the affection of love. And 
 if in this also some sluggishness of mind 
 makes you weak, at least you should submis- 
 sively with a feeling of humility entreat for 
 remedies for your wounds by the prayers and 
 intercession of the saints. Finally who is 
 there who cannot humbly say : " I have ac- 
 knowledged my sin : and mine unrighteous- 
 ness have I not hid;" so that by this 
 confession he maybe able also to add this: 
 "And Thou forgavest the iniquity of my 
 heart." 9 But if shame holds you back, and 
 you blush to reveal them before men, you 
 should not cease to confess them with constant 
 supplication to Him from Whom they cannot 
 be hid, and to say to Him: "T acknowledge 
 mine iniquity, and my sin is ever before 
 me. Against Thee only have I sinned, and 
 have done evil before Thee; " 10 as He is wont 
 to heal them without any publication which 
 brings shame, and to forgive sins without any 
 reproaching. And further besides that ready 
 and sure aid the Divine condescension has 
 afforded us another also that is still easier, 
 and has entrusted the possession of the rem- 
 edy to our own will, so that we can infer 
 from our own feelings the forgiveness of our 
 offences, when we say to Him : " Forgive us our 
 debts as we also forgive our debtors." " Who- 
 ever then desires to obtain forgiveness of his 
 sins, should study to fit himself for it by these 
 means. Let not the stubbornness of an obdu- 
 rate heart turn away any from the saving 
 remedy and the fount of so much goodness, 
 because even if we have done all these things, 
 they will not be able to expiate our offences, 
 unless they are blotted out by the goodness 
 and mercy of the Lord, who when He sees 
 the service of pious efforts offered by us with 
 a humble heart, supports our small and puny 
 efforts with the utmost bounty, and says: "I 
 even I am He that blotteth out thine iniqui- 
 ties for Mine own sake, and I will remember 
 thy sins no more." 12 Whoever then is aiming 
 
 Ps. xxxi. (xxxii.) 5. 
 >° Ps. 1. (li.) 5, 6. 
 
 " S. Matt. vi. 12. 
 12 Is. xliii. 25. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PINUFIUS. 
 
 50i 
 
 at this condition, which we have mentioned, 
 will seek the grace of satisfaction by daily 
 fasting and mortification of heart and body, 
 for, as it is written, "'Without shedding, of 
 blood there is no remission ; " 1 and this not 
 without good reason. For "flesh and blood 
 cannot inherit the kingdom of God. " 2 And 
 therefore one who would withhold " the sword 
 of the spirit which is the word of God " 3 from 
 this shedding of blood certainly comes under 
 the lash of that curse of Jeremiah's; for 
 "Cursed," says he, "is he who withholds his 
 sword from blood." 4 For this is the sword, 
 which for our good sheds that bad blood 
 whereby the material of our sins lives; and 
 cuts off and pares away everything carnal and 
 earthly which it finds to have grown up in the 
 members of our soul ; and makes men die to 
 sin and live to God, and flourish with spiri- 
 tual virtues. And so he will begin to weep no 
 more at the recollection of former sins, but 
 at the hope of what is to come, and, thinking 
 less of past evils than of good things to come, 
 will shed tears not from sorrow at his sins, 
 but from delight in that eternal joy, and "for- 
 getting those things which are behind," i.e., 
 carnal sins, will press on "to those before," 5 
 i.e., to spiritual gifts and virtues. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 How valuable to the perfect is the forgetfulness of sin. 
 
 But with regard to this that you said a little 
 way back ; viz. , that you of set purpose go over 
 the recollections of past sins, this ought cer- 
 tainly not to be done, nay, if it forcibly sur- 
 prises you, it must be at once expelled. For 
 it greatly hinders the soul from the contem- 
 plation of purity, and especially in the case of 
 one who is living in solitude, as it entangles 
 him in the stains of this world and swamps 
 him in foul sins. For while you are recalling 
 those things which you did through ignorance 
 or wantonness in accordance with the prince 
 of this world, though I grant you that while 
 you are engaged in these thoughts no delight 
 in them steals in, yet at least the mere taint 
 of the ancient filthiness is sure to corrupt your 
 soul with its foul stink, and to shut out the 
 spiritual fragrance of goodness, i.e., the odour 
 of a sweet savour. When then the recollec- 
 tion of. past sins comes over your mind, you 
 must recoil from it just as an honest and up- 
 right man runs away if he is sought out in 
 public by an immodest and wanton woman 
 
 1 Heb. ix. 22. 
 
 2 1 Cor. xv. 50. 
 
 3 Eph. vi. 17. 
 
 4 Jer. xlviii. 10. 
 
 either by words or by embraces. And cer- 
 tainly unless he at once withdraws himself 
 from contact with her, and if he allows him- 
 self to linger the very least in impure talk, 
 even if he refuses his consent to the shameful 
 pleasures, yet he cannot avoid the brand of 
 infamy and scorn in the judgment of all the 
 passers by. So then we also, if by noxious 
 recollections we are led to thoughts of this 
 kind, ought at once to desist from dwelling 
 upon them and to fulfil what we are com- 
 manded by Solomon: "But go forth," says 
 he, "do not linger in her place, nor fix thine 
 eye on her ; " 6 lest if the angels see us taken 
 up with unclean and foul thoughts, they may 
 not be able to say to us in passing by: "The 
 blessing of the Lord be upon you." 7 For it 
 is impossible for the soul to continue in good 
 thoughts, when the main part of the heart is 
 taken up with foul and earthly considerations. 
 For this saying of Solomon's is true: "When 
 thine eyes look on a strange woman, then 
 shall thy mouth speak wickedly, and thou 
 shalt lie as it were in the midst of the sea, 
 and as a pilot in a great storm. But thou 
 shalt say: They have beaten me, but I felt no 
 pain; and they mocked me, but 1 felt not." 8 
 So then we should forsake not only all foul 
 but even all earthly thoughts and ever raise 
 the desires of our soul to heavenly things, in 
 accordance with this saying of our Saviour: 
 "For where I am," He says, "there also shall 
 My servant be." 9 For it often happens that 
 when anyone out of pity is in thought going 
 over his own falls or those of other faulty 
 persons, he is affected by the delight and 
 assent to this most subtle attack, and that 
 which was undertaken and started with a show 
 of goodness ends with a filthy and damaging 
 termination, for " there are ways which appear 
 to men to be right, but the ends thereof will 
 come to the depths of hell." 10 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 How the recollection of our sins should be avoided. 
 
 Wherefore we must endeavour to rouse 
 ourselves to this praiseworthy contrition, by 
 aiming at virtue and by the desire for the 
 kingdom of heaven rather than by dangerous 
 recollections of sins, for a man is sure to be 
 suffocated by the pestilential smells of the 
 sewer as long as he chooses to stand over it 
 or to stir its filth. 
 
 c Phil. iii. 13. ° Prov. ix. iS. 8 Prov. xxiii. 33-35. 10 Prov. xvi. 
 
 7 Ps. cxxviii. (cxxix.) S. 9 S. John xii. 26. 
 
502 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Of the marks of satisfaction, and the removal of past sins. 
 
 But we know, as we have often said, that 
 then only have we made satisfaction for past 
 sins, when the very motions and feelings, 
 through which we were guilty of what we 
 have to sorrow for, have been eradicated from 
 our hearts. But no one should fancy that he 
 can secure this, unless he has first with all the 
 fervour of his spirit cut off the opportunities 
 and occasions, owing to which he fell into 
 those sins; as for instance, if through danger- 
 ous familiarity with a woman he has fallen 
 into fornication or adultery, he must take the 
 utmost pains to avoid even looking on one; 
 or if he has been overcome by too much wine 
 and over-eating, he should chastise with the 
 utmost severity his craving for immoderate 
 food. And again if he has been led astray 
 by the desire for and love of money, and has 
 fallen into perjury or theft or murder or blas- 
 phemy, he should cut off the occasion for 
 avarice, which has allured and deceived him. 
 If he is driven by the passion of pride into 
 the sin of anger, he should with all the virtue 
 of humility, remove the incentive to arrogance. 
 And so, in order that each single sin may 
 be destroyed, the occasion and opportunity by 
 which or for which it was committed should 
 be first got rid of. For by this curative treat- 
 ment we can certainly attain to forgetfulness 
 of the sins we have committed. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Wherein we must do penance for a time only ; and wherein it 
 can have no end. 
 
 But that description of the forgetfulness 
 spoken of only has to do with capital offences, 
 which are also condemned by the mosaic law, 
 the inclination to which is destroyed and put 
 an end to by a good life, and so also the pe- 
 nance for them has an end. But for those 
 small offences in which, as it is written, "the 
 
 righteous falls seven times and will rise 
 again,"' 1 penitence will never cease. For 
 either through ignorance, or forgetfulness, or 
 thought, or word, or surprise, or necessity, or 
 weakness of the flesh, or defilement in a 
 dream, we often fall every day either against 
 our will or voluntarily; offences for which 
 David also prays the Lord, and asks for puri- 
 fication and pardon, and says: "Who can 
 understand sins? from my secret ones cleanse 
 me ; and from those of others spare Thy ser- 
 vant;" and the Apostle: "For the good 
 which I would I do not, and the evil which I 
 would not, that I do." For which also the 
 same man exclaims with a sigh : " O wretched 
 man that I am! who shall deliver me from 
 the body of this death?" 2 For we slip into 
 these so easily as it were by a law of nature, 
 that however carefully and guardedly we are 
 on the lookout against them, we cannot alto- 
 gether avoid them. Since it was of these that 
 one of the disciples, whom Jesus loved, de- 
 clared and laid down absolutely saying: "If 
 we say that we have no sin we deceive our- 
 selves, and His word is not in us." 3 Further 
 for a man who is anxious to reach the heights 
 of perfection it will not greatly help him to 
 have arrived at the end of penitence, i.e., to 
 restrain himself from unlawful acts, unless he 
 has always urged himself forward in unwearied 
 course to those virtues whereby we come to 
 the signs of satisfaction. For it will not be 
 enough for a man to have kept himself clear 
 from those foul stains of sins which the Lord 
 hates, unless he has also secured by purity of 
 heart and perfect Apostolical love that sweet 
 fragrance of virtue in which the Lord delights. 
 Thus far Abbot Pinufius discoursed on the 
 marks of satisfaction and the end of penitence. 
 And although he pressed us with anxious love 
 to decide to stay in his ccenobium, yet when 
 he could not retain us, as we were incited by 
 the fame of the desert of Scete, he sent us on 
 our way. 
 
 1 Prov. xxiv. 16. - Ps. xviii. (xix.) 
 3 i John i. 8, io. 
 
 Rom. vii. 19, 24. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS. 
 
 503 
 
 XXL 
 
 THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS. 
 
 ON THE RELAXATION DURING THE EIETY DAYS} 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 How Theonas came to Abbot John. 
 
 Before we begin to set forth the words of 
 this Conference held with that excellent man 
 Abbot Theonas, 2 1 think it well to describe in 
 a brief discourse the origin of his conversion, 
 because from this the reader will be able to 
 see more clearly both the excellence and the 
 grace of the man. He then while still very 
 young was by the desire and command of his 
 parents joined in the tie of marriage, for as 
 with pious anxiety they were careful about his 
 chastity, and were afraid of a critical fall at a 
 dangerous age, they thought that the passions 
 of youth might be anticipated by the rem- 
 edy of a lawful marriage. When then he had 
 lived for five years with a wife, he came to 
 Abbot John, who was then for his marvellous 
 sanctity chosen to preside over the adminis- 
 tration of the alms. 3 For it is not anyone 
 who likes who is of his own wish or ambition 
 promoted to this office, but only he whom the 
 congregation of all the Elders considers from 
 the advantage of his age and the witness of 
 his faith and virtues to be more excellent 
 than, and superior to, all others. To this 
 blessed John then the aforesaid young man 
 had come in the eagerness of his pious de- 
 votion, bringing gifts of piety among other 
 owners who were eager to offer tithes and first- 
 fruits of their substance to the old man I 
 mentioned, 4 and when the old man saw them 
 pouring in upon him with many gifts, and 
 was anxious to make some recompense in 
 return for their offerings, he began, as the 
 Apostle says, to sow spiritual things to them 
 
 1 On Quinquagesima see the note on the Institutes II. vi. 
 
 2 Nothing further is known of this Theonas than what Cassian 
 here tells us : lie is clearly a different person from the one mentioned 
 by Runnus, Hist. Mon. c. vi. Cf. Palladius, Lausiac History, c. 1. 
 
 3 Diaconia. Cf. the note on XVIII. vii. 
 
 4 This is noteworthy as being the earliest instance on record 
 of the payment of tithes to a monastery. The language of the Con- 
 ference, it will be noted, shows that they were not regarded as 
 legally due or in any way compulsory, but as a free-will offering on 
 the part of the faithful.' Cf. Bingham, Antiquities, Book Vtl. ciii. 
 § 19; and the Dictionary of Christian Antiquities, Vol. ii. p. 1964. 
 
 whose carnal gifts he was reaping. 5 And 
 finally thus began his word of exhortation. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The exhortation of Abbot John to Theonas and the others 
 who had come together with him. 
 
 I am indeed delighted, my children, with 
 the duteous liberality of your gifts; and your 
 devout offering, the disposal of which is en- 
 trusted to me, I gratefully accept, because you 
 are offering your firstfruits and tithes for the 
 good and use of the needy, as a sacrifice ~to 
 the Lord, of a sweet smelling savour, in the 
 belief that by the offering of them, the abun- 
 dance of your fruits and all your substance, 
 from which you have taken away these for 
 the Lord, will be richly blessed, and that you 
 yourselves will according to the faith of His 
 command be endowed even in this world with 
 manifold richness in all good things: "Ho- 
 nour the Lord from thy righteous labours, and 
 offer to Him of the fruits of thy righteous- 
 ness; that thy garners may be full of abun- 
 dance of wheat, and thy vats may overflow 
 with wine." 6 And as you are faithfully car- 
 rying out this service, you may know that you 
 have fulfilled the righteousness of the old law, 
 under which those who then lived if they 
 transgressed it inevitably incurred guilt, while 
 if they fulfilled it they could not attain to a 
 pitch of perfection. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Of the offering of tithes and firstfruits. 
 
 For indeed by the Lord's command tithes 
 were consecrated to the service of the Levites, 
 but oblations and firstfruits for the priests. 7 
 But this was the law of the firstfruits; viz., 
 
 6 Cf. 1 Cor. ix. 
 s Prov. iii. 9, i< 
 
 7 Cf. Numb, xviii. 26 ; v. 9, 10. 
 
■5°4 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 that the fiftieth part of fruits or animals should 
 be given for the service of the temple and the 
 priests: and this proportion some who were 
 faithlessly indifferent diminished, while those 
 who were, very religious increased it, so that 
 the one gave only the sixtieth part, and the 
 other gave the fortieth part of their fruits. 
 For the righteous, for whom the law is not 
 enacted, are thus shown to be not under the 
 law, as they try not only to fulfil but even to 
 exceed the righteousness of the law, and their 
 devotion is greater than the legal require- 
 ment, as it goes beyond the observance of 
 precepts and adds to what is due of its own 
 free will. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 How Abraham, David, and other saints went beyond the 
 requirement of the law. 
 
 For so we read that Abraham went beyond 
 the requirement of the law which was after- 
 wards to be given, when after his victory over 
 the four kings, he would not touch any of the 
 spoils of Sodom, which were fairly due to him 
 as the conqueror, and which indeed the king 
 himself, whose spoils he had rescued, offered 
 him ; and with an oath by the Divine name he 
 exclaimed : " I lift up my hand to the Lord 
 Most High, who made heaven and earth, that 
 I will not take from a thread to a shoe's 
 latchet of all that is thine." 1 So we know 
 that David went beyond the requirement of 
 the law, as, though Moses commanded that 
 vengeance should be taken on enemies, 2 he 
 not only did not do this, but actually em- 
 braced his persecutors with love, and piously 
 entreated the Lord for them, and wept bitterly 
 and avenged them when they were slain. So 
 we are sure that Elijah and Jeremiah were not 
 under the law, as though they might without 
 blame have taken advantage of lawful matri- 
 mony, yet they preferred to remain virgins. 
 So we » read that Elisha and others of the 
 same mode of life went beyond the commands 
 of Moses, as of them the Apostle speaks as 
 follows: "They went about in sheepskins and 
 in goatskins, they were oppressed, afflicted, 
 in want, of whom the world was not worthy, 
 they wandered about in deserts and in moun- 
 tains, and in caves and in dens of the earth. " 3 
 What shall I say of the sons of Jonadab the 
 son of Rechab, of whom we are told that, 
 when at the Lord's bidding the prophet 
 Jeremiah offered them wine, they replied: 
 "We drink no wine: for Jonadab the son 
 of Rechab, our father, commanded us, say- 
 ing: Ye shall drink no wine, ye and your 
 sons forever: and ye shall build no house, 
 
 Gen. xiv. 22, 23. 2 Cf. Exod. xxi. 24. 3 Heb. xi. 37, 38. 
 
 nor sow any seed, nor plant vineyards nor 
 possess them: but ye shall dwell in tents all 
 your days " ? Wherefore also they were per- 
 mitted to hear from the same prophet these 
 words : " Thus saith the Lord God of hosts, the 
 God of Israel : there shall not fail a man from 
 the stock of Jonadab the son of Rechab to 
 stand in My sight all the days; " 4 as all of 
 them were not satisfied with merely offering 
 tithes of their possessions, but actually refused 
 property, and offered the rather to God them- 
 selves and their souls, for which no redemp- 
 tion can be made by man, as the Lord testifies 
 in the gospel : " For what shall a man give in 
 exchange for his own soul ? " 5 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 How those who live under the grace of the Gospel ought to go 
 beyond the requirement of the law. 
 
 •Wherefore we ought to know that we from 
 whom the requirements of the law are no 
 longer exacted, but in whose ears the word of 
 the gospel daily sounds: "If thou wilt be 
 perfect, go and sell all that thou hast and 
 give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure 
 in heaven, and come follow Me,'' 6 when we 
 offer to God tithes of our substance, are still 
 in a way ground down beneath the burden of 
 the law, and not able to rise to those heights 
 of the gospel, those who conform to which 
 are recompensed not only by blessings in this 
 present life, but also by future rewards. For 
 the law promises to those who obey it no re- 
 wards of the kingdom of heaven, but only 
 solaces in this life, saying: "The man that 
 doeth these things shall live in them.'' 7 But 
 the Lord says to His disciples: "Blessed are 
 the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom 
 of heaven ; " and : " Everyone that leaveth 
 house or brothers or sisters or father or mother 
 or wife or children or field for My name's 
 sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall 
 inherit eternal life." 8 And this with good 
 reason. For it is not so praiseworthy for 
 us to abstain from forbidden as from lawful 
 things, and not to use these last out of reve- 
 rence for Him, Who has permitted us to use 
 them because of our weakness. And so if 
 even those who, faithfully offering tithes of 
 their fruits, are obedient to the more ancient 
 precepts of the Lord, cannot yet climb the 
 heights of the gospel, you can see very clearly 
 how far short of it those fall who do not even 
 do this. For how can those men be partakers 
 of the grace of the gospel who disregard the 
 
 * Jer. xxxv. 6, 7, 19. 
 5 S. Matt. xvi. 25. 
 
 6 S. Matt. xix. 21. s s. Matt. 
 ' Lev. xviii. 5. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS. 
 
 505 
 
 fulfilment even of the lighter commands of the 
 law, to the easy character of which the weighty 
 words of the giver of the law bear testimony, 
 as a curse is actually invoked on those who do 
 not fulfil them ; for it says : " Cursed is every- 
 one that does not continue in all things that 
 are written in the book of the law to do 
 them." x But here on account of the superi- 
 ority and excellence of the commandments it 
 is said: "He that can receive it, let him re- 
 ceive it." 2 There the forcible compulsion of 
 the lawgiver shows the easy character of the 
 precepts; for he says: "I call heaven and 
 earth to record against you this day, that if 
 ye do not keep the commandments of the Lord 
 your God ye shall perish from off the face of 
 the earth. " 3 Here the grandeur of sublime 
 commands is shown by the very fact that He 
 does not order, but exhorts, saying : " if thou 
 wilt be perfect go " and do this or that. There 
 Moses lays a burden that cannot be refused 
 on those who are unwilling: here Paul meets 
 with counsels those who are willing and eager 
 for perfection. For that was not to be enjoined 
 as a general charge, nor to be required, if I 
 may so say, as a regular rule from all, which 
 could not be secured by all, owing to its won- 
 derful and lofty nature; but by counsels all 
 are rather stimulated to grace, that those who 
 are great may deservedly be crowned by the 
 perfection of their virtues, while those who are 
 small, and not able to come up to "the meas- 
 ure of the stature of the fulness of Christ," 4 
 although they seem to be lost to sight 
 and hidden as it were by the brightness of 
 larger stars, may yet be free from the darkness 
 of the curses which are in the law, and not 
 adjudged to suffer present evils or visited with 
 eternal punishment. Christ therefore does 
 not constrain anyone, by the compulsion of 
 a command, to those lofty heights of good- 
 ness, but stimulates them by the power of free 
 will, and urges them on by wise counsels and 
 the desire of perfection. For where there is 
 a command, there is duty, and consequently 
 punishment. But those who keep those things 
 to which they are driven by the severity of 
 the law established escape the punishment 
 with which they were threatened, instead of 
 obtaining rewards and a recompense. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 How the grace of the gospel supports the weak so that they 
 can obtain pardon, as it secures to the perfect the kingdom 
 of God. 
 
 And as the word of the gospel raises those 
 that are strong to sublime and lofty heights, 
 
 so it suffers not the weak to be dragged down 
 to the depths, for it secures to the perfect the 
 fulness of blessing, and brings to those who 
 are overcome through weakness pardon. For 
 the law placed those who fulfilled its com- 
 mands in a sort of middle state between what 
 they deserved in either case, severing them 
 from the condemnation due to transgressors, as 
 it also kept them away from the glory of the 
 perfect. But how wretched and miserable this 
 is, you can see from comparing the state of 
 this present life, in which it is considered a 
 very poor thing for a man to sweat and 
 labour only to avoid being regarded as guilty 
 among good men, not also to be esteemed rich 
 and honourable and renowned. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 How it lies in our own power to choose whether to remain 
 under the grace of the gospel or under the terror of the law. 
 
 Wherefore it lies today in our own power 
 whether we choose to live under the grace of 
 the gospel or under the terrors of the law : for 
 each man must incline to one side or the 
 other in accordance with the character of his 
 actions, for either the grace of Christ wel- 
 comes those who go beyond the law, or else 
 the law keeps its hold over the weaker ones 
 as those who are its debtors and within its 
 clutches. For one who is guilty as regards 
 the precepts of the law will never be able to 
 attain to the perfection of the gospel, even 
 though he idly boasts that he is a Christian 
 and freed by the* Lord's grace: for we must 
 not only regard as still under the law the man 
 who refuses to fulfil what the law enjoins, but 
 the man as well who is satisfied with the mere 
 observance of what the law commands, and 
 who never brings forth fruits worthy of his 
 vocation and the grace of Christ, where it is 
 not said : " Thou shalt offer to the Lord thy God 
 thy tithes and firstfruits; " but: "Go and sell 
 all that thou hast and give to the poor, and 
 come follow Me ; " 5 where, owing to the grand- 
 eur of perfection, to the request of the dis- 
 ciple there is not granted even the very short" 
 space of an hour in which to bury his father, 
 as the offices of human charity are outweighed 
 by the virtue of Divine love. 
 
 1 Deut. xxvii. 26. 
 
 2 S. Matt. xix. 12. 
 
 3 Deut. iv. 26. 
 
 4 Eph. iv. 13. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 How Theonas exhorted his wife that she too should make her 
 renunciation. 
 
 And when he had heard this the blessed 
 Theonas was fired with an uncontrollable 
 
 Exod. xxii. 29; S. Matt. xix. 
 
 Cf. S. Matt. 
 
506 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 desire for the perfection of the gospel, and, 
 committed, as it were, the seed of the word, 
 which he had received in a fruitful heart, to 
 the deep and broken furrows of his bosom, 
 as he was greatly humiliated and conscience- 
 stricken because the old man had said not 
 only that he had failed to attain to the per- 
 fection of the gospel, but also that he had 
 scarcely fulfilled the commands of the law; 
 since though he was accustomed every year 
 to pay the tithes of his fruits as alms, yet he 
 mourned that he had never even heard of the 
 law of the firstfruits; and even if he had in 
 the same way fulfilled this, he humbly con- 
 fessed that still he would in the old man's 
 view have been very far from the perfection 
 of the gospel. And so he returned home sad 
 and filled with that sorrow which worketh 
 repentance unto salvation, 1 and of his own 
 will and determination turns all his wife's care 
 and anxiety of mind towards salvation; and 
 began to stir her up to the same eager desire 
 with which he himself had been inflamed, with 
 the same sort of exhortations, and with tears 
 day and night to urge her that together they 
 might serve God in sanctity and chastity, tell- 
 ing her that their conversion to a better life 
 ought not to be deferred because a vain hope 
 in their youth would be no argument against 
 the inevitableness of a sudden death, which 
 carries off boys and youths and young persons 
 equally with old men. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 How he fled to a monastery when his wife would not consent. 
 
 And when his wife was hard and would not 
 consent to him as he constantly persisted with 
 entreaties of this kind, but said that as she was 
 in the flower of her age she could not alto- 
 gether do without the solace of her husband, 
 and further that supposing she was deserted 
 by him and fell into sin, the guilt would rather 
 be his who had broken the bonds of wedlock: 
 to this he, when he had for a long while 
 urged the condition of human nature (which 
 being so weak and uncertain, it would be 
 dangerous for it to be any longer mixed up 
 with carnal desires and works), added the as- 
 sertion that it was not right for anyone to cut 
 himself off from that virtue to which he had 
 learnt that he ought by all means to cleave, and 
 that it was more dangerous to disregard good- 
 ness when discovered, than to fail to love it 
 before it was discovered ; further that he was al- 
 ready involved in the guilt of a fall if when he 
 had discovered such grand and heavenly bless- 
 
 1 Cf. 2 Cor. vii, 10. 
 
 ings he had preferred earthly and mean ones. 
 Further that the grandeur of perfection was 
 open to every age and either sex, and that all 
 the members of the Church were urged to scale 
 the heights of heavenly goodness when the 
 Apostle said: " So run that ye may obtain; " 2 
 nor should those who were ready and eager 
 for it hang back because of the delays of the 
 slow and dawdlers, as it is better for the slug- 
 gards to be urged on by those running before 
 than for those who are doing their best to be 
 hampered by the slothful. Further that he 
 had determined and made up his mind to 
 renounce the world and to die to the world 
 that he might live to God, and that if he 
 could not attain this happiness; viz., to pass 
 with his wife into union with Christ, he would 
 rather be saved even with the loss of one 
 member, andeaiter into the kingdom of heaven 
 as one maimed rather than be condemned 
 with his body whole. But he also added and 
 spoke as follows: If Moses suffered wives to 
 be divorced for the hardness of their hearts, 
 why should not Christ allow this for the 
 desire of chastity, especially when the same 
 Lord among those other affections; viz., for 
 fathers and mothers and children (all due 
 regard to which not only the law but He Him- 
 self also charged to be shown, yet for His 
 name's sake and for the desire of perfection He 
 decreed that they should not simply be disre- 
 garded but actually hated) — to these, 1 say, 
 He joined also the mention of wives, saying: 
 " And everyone that hath left house, or brethren 
 or sisters or father or mother or wife or child- 
 ren for My name's sake, shall receive an hun- 
 dredfold and shall inherit eternal life." 3 So 
 far then is He from allowing anything to be 
 set against that perfection which He is pro- 
 claiming, that He actually enjoins that the 
 ties to father and mother should be broken 
 and disregarded out of love for Him, though 
 according to the Apostle it is the first com- 
 mandment with promise; viz., ''Honour thy 
 father and thy mother, which is the first com- 
 mandment with promise, that it may be well 
 with thee and that thy days may be long upon 
 earth. ' ' 4 And as the word of the gospel 
 condemns those who break the chains of 
 matrimony where there has been no sin of 
 adultery, so it clearly promises a reward of an 
 hundredfold to those who have cast off a 
 carnal yoke out of love for Christ and the 
 desire for chastity. Wherefore if it can be 
 brought about that you may listen to reason 
 and be turned together with me to this most 
 desirable choice; viz., that we should together 
 serve the Lord and escape the pains of hell, 
 I will not refuse the affection of marriage, 
 
 3 i Cor. ix. 24. 
 
 • S. Matt. xix. 29. 
 
 * Eph. vi. 2, 3. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS. 
 
 507 
 
 nay I will embrace it with a still greater love. 
 For I acknowledge and honour my helpmeet 
 assigned to me by the word of the Lord, and 
 I do not refuse to be joined to lier in an un- 
 broken tie of love in Christ, nor do I separate 
 from me what the Lord joined to me by the 
 law of the original condition, 1 if only you 
 yourself will be what your Maker meant you 
 to be. But if you will not be a helpmeet, 
 but prefer to make yourself a deceiver and 
 an assistance not to me but to the adversary, 
 and fancy that the sacrament of matrimony 
 was granted to you for this reason that you 
 may deprive yourself of this salvation which 
 is offered to you, and also hold me back from 
 following the Saviour as a disciple, then I 
 will resolutely lay hold on the words which 
 were uttered by the lips of Abbot John, or 
 rather of Christ Himself, so that no carnal 
 affection may be able to tear me away from 
 spiritual blessings, for He says: "He that 
 hateth not father and mother and children 
 and brothers and sisters and wife and lands, 
 yea and his own soul also, cannot be My 
 disciple." 2 When then by these and such 
 like words the woman's purpose was not 
 moved and she persisted in the same obstinate 
 hardness, If, said the blessed Theonas, I can- 
 not drag you away from death, neither shall 
 you separate me from Christ: but it is safer 
 for me to be divorced from a human person 
 than from God. And so by the aid of God's 
 grace he at once set about the execution of 
 his purpose and suffered not the ardour of 
 his desire to grow cool through any delay. 
 For at once he stripped himself of all his 
 worldly goods, and fled to a monastery, where 
 in a very short time he was so famous for the 
 splendour of his sanctity and humility that 
 when John of blessed memory departed this 
 life to the Lord, and the holy Elias, a man 
 who was no less great than his predecessor, 
 had likewise died, Theonas was chosen by the 
 judgment of all as the third to succeed them 
 in the administration of the almsgiving. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 An explanation that we may not appear to recommend 
 separation trom wives. 
 
 But let no one imagine that we have in- 
 vented this for the sake of encouraging 
 divorce, as we not only in no way condemn 
 marriage, but also, following the words of 
 the Apostle, say: "Marriage is honourable 
 in all, and the bed undefiled," 3 but it was 
 in order faithfully to show the reader the 
 
 1 Cf. Gen. ii. 
 
 2 S. Luke xiv. 26. 
 
 3 Heb. xiii. 4. 
 
 origin of the conversion by which this great 
 man was dedicated to God. And I ask the 
 reader kindly to allow that, whether he likes 
 this or no, in either case I am free from 
 blame, and to give the praise or blame for 
 this act to its real author. But as for me, 
 as I have not put forward an opinion of my 
 own on this matter, but have given a simple 
 narration of the history of the facts, it is fair 
 that as I claim no praise from those who ap- 
 prove of what was done, so I should not be 
 attacked by the hatred of those who disap- 
 prove of it. Let every man therefore, as we 
 said, have his own opinion on the matter. 
 But I advise him to restrain his censure in 
 considering it, lest he come to fancy that he 
 is more just and holy than the Divine judg- 
 ment, whereby the signs even of Apostolic 
 virtue were conferred upon him (viz., Theo- 
 nas), not to mention the opinion of such great 
 fathers by whom it is clear that his action 
 was not only not blamed, but even so far 
 praised that in the election to the office of 
 almoner they preferred him to splendid and 
 most excellent men. And I fancy that the 
 judgment of so many spiritual men, uttered 
 with God as its author, was not wrong, as it 
 was, as was said above, confirmed by such 
 wonderful signs. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 An inquiry why in Egypt they do not fast during all the 
 fifty days (of Easter) nor bend their knees in prayer. 
 
 But it is now time to follow out the plan 
 of the promised discourse. So then when 
 Abbot Theonas had come to visit us in our 
 cell during Eastertide 4 after Evensong was 
 over we sat for a little while on the ground 
 and began diligently to consider why they 
 were so very careful that no one should during 
 the whole fifty days either bend his knees in 
 prayer' 5 or venture to fast till the ninth hour, 
 and we made our inquiry the more earnestly 
 because we had never seen this custom so 
 carefully observed in the monasteries of 
 Syria. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The answer on the nature of things good, bad, and indifferent. 
 
 To this Abbot Theonas thus began his reply. 
 It is indeed right for us, even when we can- 
 
 4 Quinquagesima. 
 
 5 The 20th Canon of the Council of Nicasa (a.d. 325) alludes 
 to diversities of custom with regard to posture for prayer on Sun- 
 days and from Easter to Pentecost, and ordered that for the future 
 prayer should be made standing at these times. Cassian's language 
 in the text would seem to show that in his day the Canon in ques- 
 tion, though kept in Egypt, was not strictly observed in Palestine, 
 but that the ancient diversity of customs still to some extent prevailed. 
 
5 oS 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 not see the reason, to yield to the authority of 
 the fathers and to a custom of our predeces- 
 sors that has been continued through so many 
 years down to our own time, and to observe 
 it, as handed down from antiquity, with con- 
 stant care and reverence. But since you want 
 to know the reasons and grounds for this, 
 receive in few words what we have heard as 
 handed down by our Elders on this subject. 
 But before we bring forward the authority of 
 Holy Scripture, we will, if you please, say a 
 little about the nature and character of the 
 fast, that afterwards the authority of Holy 
 Scripture may support our words. The Divine 
 Wisdom has pointed out in Ecclesiastes that 
 for everything, i.e., for all things happy or 
 those which are considered unfortunate and 
 unhappy, there is a right time: saying: -"For 
 all things there is a time, and a time for every- 
 thing under the heaven. A time to bring 
 forth and a time to die; a time to plant and 
 a time to pull down what is planted ; a time 
 to kill and a time to heal ; a time to destroy 
 and a time to build; a time to weep and a 
 time to laugh ; a time to mourn and a time to 
 dance ; a time to cast away stones and a time 
 to gather stones ; a time to embrace and a 
 time to refrain from embracing; a time to 
 get and a time to lose; a time to keep and 
 a time to send away; a time to scatter and a 
 time to collect; a time to be silent and a time 
 to speak ; a time to love and a time to hate ; 
 a time for war and a time for peace ; " and 
 below: "For there is a time/ 5 it says, "for 
 everything and for every deed." * None there- 
 fore of these things does it lay down as always 
 good, but only when any of them are fittingly 
 done and at the right time, so that these very 
 things which at one time, when done at the 
 right moment, turn out well, if they are ven- 
 tured on at a wrong or unsuitable time, are 
 found to be useless or harmful ; only except- 
 ing those things which are in their own .nature 
 good or bad, and which cannot ever be made 
 the opposite, as, e.g., justice, prudence, forti- 
 tude, temperance and the rest of the virtues, 
 or on the other hand, those faults, the des- 
 cription of which cannot possibly be altered 
 or fall under the other head. But those things 
 which can sometimes turn out with either 
 result, so that, in accordance with the char- 
 acter of those who use them, they are found to 
 be either good or bad, these we consider to be 
 not absolutely in their own natures useful or 
 injurious, but only so in accordance with the 
 mind of the doer, and the suitableness of the 
 time. 
 
 1 Eccl. i'ii. i-S, 17. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 What kind of good fasting is. 
 
 Wherefore we must now inquire what we 
 ought to hold about the state of fasting, 
 whether we meant that it was good ii the 
 same sort of way as justice, prudence, forti- 
 tude and temperance, which cannot possibly 
 be made anything else, or whether it is some- 
 thing indifferent which sometimes is useful 
 when done, and may be sometimes omitted 
 without condemnation ; and which sometimes 
 it is wrong to do, and sometimes laudable to 
 omit. For if we hold fasting to be included 
 in that list of virtues, so that abstinence from 
 food is placed among those things which are 
 good in themselves, then certainly the par- 
 taking of food will be bad and wrong. For 
 whatever is the opposite of that which is in 
 its own nature good, must certainly be held 
 to be in its own nature bad. But this the 
 authority of Holy Scripture does'not allow to 
 us to lay down. For if we fast with such 
 thoughts and intentions, so as to think that 
 we fall into sin by taking food, we shall not 
 only gain no advantage by our abstinence 
 but shall actually contract grievous guilt and 
 fall into the sin of impiety, as the Apostle 
 says: "Abstaining from meats which God 
 has created to be received with thanksgiving 
 by the faithful and those who know the truth. 
 For every creature of God is good, and no- 
 thing to be refused if it is partaken of with 
 thanksgiving." For "if a man thinks that a 
 thing i; common, to him it is common." 2 
 And therefore we never read that anyone is 
 condemned simply for taking food, but only 
 when something was joined with it or followed 
 afterwards, for which he deserved condemna- 
 tion. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 How fasting is not good in its own nature. 
 
 . And so that it is a thing indifferent is very 
 clearly shown from this also; viz., because 
 as it brings justification when observed, so it 
 does not bring condemnation when it is broken 
 in upon ; unless perhaps the transgression of 
 a command rather than the partaking of food 
 brings punishment. But in the case of a thing 
 that is good in its own nature, no time should 
 be without it, in such a way as that a man 
 may do without it, for if it ceases, the man 
 who is careless about it is sure to fall into 
 
 1 1 Tim. iv. 3, 4; Rom. xiv. 14. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS. 
 
 509 
 
 mischief. Nor again is any time given for 
 what is bad in its own nature, because what 
 is hurtful cannot help hurting, if it is indulged 
 in, nor can it ever be made of a praiseworthy 
 character. And further it is clear that these 
 things, for which we see conditions and times 
 appointed, and which sanctify, when observed 
 without corrupting us when they are neglected, 
 are things indifferent, as, e.g., marriage, agri- 
 culture, riches, retirement into the desert, 
 vigils, reading and meditation on Holy Scrip- 
 ture and fasting itself, from which our discus- 
 sion took its rise. All of which things the 
 Divine precepts and the authority of Holy 
 Scripture decreed should not be so inces- 
 santly aimed at, or so constantly observed, as 
 for it to be wrong for them to be for a time 
 intermitted. For anything that is absolutely 
 commanded brings death if it be not fulfilled: 
 but whatever things we are urged to rather 
 than commanded, when done are useful, when 
 left undone bring no punishment. And there- 
 fore in the case of all or some of these things 
 our predecessors commanded us either to do 
 them with consideration, or to observe them 
 carefully with regard to the reason, place, 
 manner, and time, because if any of them are 
 done suitably, it is fit and convenient, but if 
 incongruously, then it becomes foolish and 
 hurtful. And if at the coming of a brother, 
 in whose person he ought to refresh Christ 
 with courtesy and to embrace him with a most 
 kindly welcome, a man should choose to ob- 
 serve a strict fast, would he not rather be 
 guilty of incivility than gain the praise or 
 reward of devoutness ? or if when the failure 
 or weakness of the flesh requires the strength 
 to be restored by the partaking of food, a man 
 will not consent to relax the rigour of his 
 abstinence, is he not to be regarded as a cruel 
 murderer of his own body rather than as one 
 who is careful for his salvation? So too 
 when a festival season permits a suitable in- 
 dulgence in food and a necessarily liberal 
 repast, if a man will resolutely cling to the 
 strict observance of a fast he must be consid- 
 ered as not religious so much as boorish and 
 unreasonable. But to those men also will 
 these things be found bad, who are on the 
 lookout for the praises of men by their fasts, 
 and by a foolish show of paleness gain credit 
 for sanctity, of whom the word of the Gospel 
 tells us that they have received their reward 
 in this life, and whose fast the Lord execrates 
 by the prophet. In whose person he first 
 objected to himself and said: "Wherefore 
 have we fasted and Thou hast not regarded: 
 wherefore have we humbled our souls, and 
 Thou hast not known it ? " and then at once 
 he answered and explained the reasons why 
 
 they did not deserve to be heard: "Behold," 
 he says, " in the days of your fast your own 
 will is found and you exact of all your debtors. 
 Behold you fast for debates and strife, and 
 strike with the fist wickedly. Do not fast as 
 ye have done unto this day, to make your cry 
 to be heard on high. Is this such a fast as 1 
 have chosen, for a man to afflict his soul for 
 a day? Is it this, to wind his head about like 
 a circle, and to spread sackcloth and ashes? 
 Will ye call this a fast and a day acceptable 
 to the Lord ? " Then he proceeds to teach 
 how the abstinence of one who fasts may 
 become acceptable, and clearly lays down 
 that fasting cannot be good of itself alone, 
 but only when it has the following reasons 
 which are added: "Is not this," he says, 
 " the fast that I have chosen ? Loose the 
 bands of wickedness, undo the bundles that 
 oppress, let them that are broken go free, and 
 break asunder every burden. Deal thy bread 
 to the hungry, and bring the needy and the 
 harbourless into thine house: and when thou 
 shalt see one naked cover him, and despise 
 not thine own flesh. Then shalt thy light 
 break forth as the morning and thy health 
 shall speedily arise, and thy righteousness 
 shall go befcre thy face and the glory of the 
 Lord shall gather thee up. Then shalt thou 
 call, and the Lord shall hear: thou shalt cry, 
 and He shall say, Here am I." 1 You see 
 then that fasting is certainly not considered 
 by the Lord as a thing that is good in its own 
 nature, because it becomes good and well- 
 pleasing to God not by itself but by other 
 works, and again from the surrounding cir- 
 cumstances it may be regarded as not merely 
 vain but actually hateful, as the Lord says: 
 " When they fast I will not hear their 
 prayers." 2 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 How a thing that is good in its own nature ought not to be 
 done tor the sake of some lesser good. 
 
 For we ought not to practise pity, patience 
 and love, and the precepts of the virtues 
 mentioned above, wherein there is what is 
 good in its own nature, for the sake of fasting, 
 but rather fasting for the sake of them. For 
 our endeavour must be that those virtues 
 which are really good may be gained by 
 fasting, not that the practice of those virtues 
 may lead to fasting as its end. For this then 
 the affliction of the flesh is useful, for this the 
 remedy of abstinence must be employed; viz., 
 that by it we may succeed in attaining to love, 
 wherein there is what is good without change, 
 
 1 Isa. Iviii. 3-9. 
 
 2 Jer. xiv. 12. 
 
5io 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 and continually with no exception of time. 
 For medicines, and the goldsmith's art, and 
 the systems of other arts which there are in 
 this world are not employed for the sake of 
 the instruments which belong to the particular 
 work; but rather the implements are prepared 
 for the practice of the art. And as they are 
 useful for those who understand them, so they 
 are useless to those who are ignorant of the 
 system of the art in question; and as they 
 are a great help to those who rely on their aid 
 for doing their work, so they cannot be of the 
 smallest use to those who do not know for 
 what purpose they were made, and are con- 
 tented simply with the possession of them; 
 because they make all their value consist in the 
 mere having of them, and not in the perform- 
 ance of work. That then is in its own nature 
 the best thing, for the sake of which things 
 indifferent are done, but the very chiefest 
 good is done not for the sake of anything else 
 but because of its own intrinsic goodness. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 How what is good in its own nature can be distinguished from 
 other things that are good. 
 
 And this may be distinguished from those 
 other things which we have termed indiffer- 
 ent, in these ways : if a thing is good in itself 
 and not by reason of something else : if it is use- 
 ful for its own sake, and not for the sake of 
 something else : if it is unchangeably and at all 
 times good, and always keeps its character and 
 can never become anything different: if its re- 
 moval or cessation cannot fail to produce the 
 greatest harm: if that which is its opposite is 
 in the same way evil in its own nature, and 
 can never be turned into anything good. And 
 these descriptions by which the nature of 
 things that are good in themselves can be 
 distinguished, cannot possibly be applied to 
 fasting, for it is not good of itself, nor useful 
 for its own sake because it is wisely used for 
 the acquisition of purity of heart and body, 
 that the pricks of the flesh being dulled the 
 soul may be pacified and reconciled to its 
 Creator, nor is it unchangeably and at all 
 times good, because often we are not injured 
 by its intermission, and indeed sometimes if 
 it is unreasonably practised it becomes injuri- 
 ous. Nor is that which seems its opposite 
 evil in its own rjature, i.e., the partaking of 
 food, which is naturally agreeable, which 
 cannot be regarded as evil, unless intemper- 
 ance and luxury or some other faults are the 
 result ; " For not that, which entereth into the 
 mouth, detileth a man, but that which cometh 
 
 out of the mouth, that defileth a man." x And 
 so a man disparages what is good in its own 
 nature, and does not treat it properly or with- 
 out sin, if he does it not for its own sake but 
 for the sake of something else, for everything 
 else should be done for the sake of it, but it 
 should be sought for its own sake alone. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Of the reason for fasting and its value. 
 
 So then let us constantly remember this 
 description of the character of fasting, and 
 always aim at it with all the powers of the 
 soul, in such a way as to recognize that then 
 only is it suitable for us if in it we preserve 
 regard for time, its character and degree, and 
 this not so as to set the end of our hope upon 
 it, but so that by it we may succeed in attain- 
 ing to purity of heart and Apostolical love. 
 Therefore from this it is clear that fasting, for 
 which not only are there special seasons ap- 
 pointed at which it should be practised or 
 relaxed, but conditions and rules also laid 
 down, is not good in its own nature, but some- 
 thing indifferent. But those things which are 
 either enjoined as good by the authority of a 
 precept, or are forbidden as bad, are never 
 subject to any exceptions of time in such a 
 way that sometimes we should do what is for- 
 bidden or omit what is commanded. For there 
 is no limit set to justice, patience, soberness, 
 modesty, love, nor on the other hand is a • 
 licence ever granted for injustice, impatience, 
 wrath, immodesty, envy, and pride. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 How fasting is not always suitable. 
 
 Wherefore as we have premised this on 
 the conditions of fasting, it seems well to sub- 
 join the authority of Holy Scripture, by which 
 it will be more clearly proved that fasting 
 neither can nor should be always observed. 
 In the Gospel when the Pharisees were fasting 
 together with the disciples of John the Baptist, 
 as the Apostles, as friends and companions of 
 the heavenly Bridegroom, were not yet keep- 
 ing the observance of a fast, the disciples of 
 John (who thought that they acquired perfect 
 righteousness by their fasts, as they were fol- 
 lowers of that grand preacher of repentance 
 who afforded a pattern to all the people by his 
 own example, as he not only refused the differ- 
 
 1 S. Matt. xv. II. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS. 
 
 5ii 
 
 ent kinds of food which are supplied for 
 man's use, but actually altogether did without 
 eating the bread which is common to all) com- 
 plained to the Lord and said: "Why do we 
 and the Pharisees fast oft but thy disciples 
 fast not?" to whom the Lord in His reply 
 plainly showed that fasting is not suitable 
 or necessary at all times, when any festival 
 season or opportunity for love intervenes 
 and permits an indulgence in food, saying: 
 "Can the children of the bridegroom mourn 
 while the bridegroom is with them? But 
 the days will come when the bridegroom shall 
 be taken away from them; and then- shall 
 they fast ; " 1 words which although they were 
 spoken before the resurrection of His Body, 
 yet specially point to the season of Easter- 
 tide, in which after His resurrection for forty 
 days He ate with His disciples, and their joy 
 in His daily Presence did not allow them to 
 fast. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX.* 
 
 A question why we break the fast all through Eastertide. 
 
 • Germanus : Why then do we relax the 
 rigour of our abstinence in our meals all 
 through the fifty days, whereas Christ only 
 remained with His disciples for forty days 
 after His resurrection ? 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The answer. 
 
 Your pertinent question deserves to be 
 told the perfect true reason. After the As- 
 cension of our Saviour which took place on 
 the fortieth day after His Resurrection, the 
 apostles returned from the Mount of Olives, 
 on which He had suffered them to see Plim 
 when He was returning to the Father, as the 
 book of the Acts of the Apostles also testifies, 
 and entered Jerusalem and are said to have 
 waited ten days for the coming of the Holy 
 Ghost, and when these were fulfilled on the 
 fiftieth day they received Him with joy. 
 And thus in this way the number of this fes- 
 tival was clearly made up, which as we read 
 was figuratively foreshadowed also in the Old 
 Testament, where when seven weeks were ful- 
 filled the bread of the firstfruits was ordered to 
 be offered by the priests to the Lord : 2 and this 
 was indeed shown to be offered to the Lord 
 by the preaching of the Apostles which they 
 are said on that day to have addressed to the 
 people ; the true bread of the firstfruits, which 
 
 1 S. Matt. ix. 14, 15. 
 
 2 Cf . Deut. xvi. 9. 
 
 when produced from the instruction of a new 
 doctrine, consecrated the firstfruits of the 
 Jews as a Christian people to the Lord, five 
 thousand men being filled with the gifts of the 
 food. And therefore these ten days are to 
 be kept with equal solemnity and joy as the 
 previous forty. And the tradition about this 
 festival, transmitted to us by Apostolic men, 
 should be kept with the same uniformity. 
 For therefore on those days they do not bow 
 their knees in prayer, because the bending of 
 the knees is a sign of penitence and mourn- 
 ing. Wherefore also during these days we ob- 
 serve in all things the same solemnities as on 
 Sunday, on which day our predecessors taught 
 that men ought not to fast nor to bow the 
 knee, out of reverence for the Lord's Resur- 
 rection. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 A question whether the relaxation of the fast is not prejudicial 
 to the chastity of the body. 
 
 Germanus : Can the flesh, attracted by the 
 unwonted luxuries of so long a festival fail to 
 produce something thorny from the incentives 
 to sin although they have been cut down ? or 
 can the soul weighed down by the consumption 
 of unaccustomed feasts fail to mitigate the 
 rigour of its rule over its servant the body, 
 especially when in our case our mature age 
 can excite our subject members to a speedy 
 revolt, if we venture to take our usual food in 
 larger quantities, or unaccustomed food more 
 freely than usual? 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 The answer on the way to keep control over alstinence. 
 
 Theonas : If we weigh everything that we 
 do, by a reasonable judgment of the mind, and 
 on the purity of our heart always consult not 
 the opinions of other people but our own con- 
 science, that interval for refreshment is sure 
 not to interfere with our proper strictness, if 
 only, as was said, our pure mind impartially 
 considers the right limits of indulgence and 
 abstinence, and fairly checks excess in either, 
 and with real discrimination discerns whether 
 the weight of the delicacies is a burden upon 
 our spirits, or whether too much austerity in 
 abstaining weighs down the other side, i.e., 
 that of the body, and either depresses or raises 
 that side which it sees to be raised or weighed 
 down. For our Lord would have nothing 
 done to His honour and glory without being 
 tempered by judgment, for "the honour of a 
 
5i2 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 king loveth judgment," 1 and therefore Solo- 
 mon, the wisest of men, urges us not to let 
 our judgment incline to either side, saying: 
 " Honour God with thy righteous labours and 
 offer to Him of the fruits of thy righteous- 
 ness." 2 For we have residing in our con- 
 science an uncorrupt and true judge who 
 sometimes, when all are wrong, is the only 
 person not deceived as to the state of our 
 purity. And so with all care and pains we 
 should preserve a constant purpose in our 
 circumspect heart for fear lest if the judg- 
 ment of our discretion goes wrong, we may 
 be fired with the desire for an ill-considered 
 abstinence, or allured by the wish for an 
 excessive relaxation, and so weigh the sub- 
 stance of our strength in the tongue of an 
 unfair balance; but we should place in one 
 of the scales our purity of soul, and in the 
 other our bodily strength, and weigh them 
 both in the true judgment of conscience, so 
 that we may not perversely incline the scale 
 of fairness to either side, either to undue 
 strictness or to excessive relaxation, from the 
 preponderating desire for one or the other, 
 and so have this said to us by reason of ex- 
 cessive strictness or relaxation : " If thou 
 offerest rightly, but dost not divide rightly, 
 hast thou not sinned? " 3 For those offerings 
 of fasts, which we thoughtlessly extort by 
 violently tearing our bowels, and fancy that 
 we rightly offer to the Lord, these He exe- 
 crates who "loves mercy and judgment," say- 
 ing: "I the Lord love judgment, but I hate 
 robbery in a burnt offering. " 4 Those also 
 who take the main part of their offerings, i.e., 
 their offices and actions, 'to benefit the flesh 
 for their own use, but leave the remains 
 of them and a tiny portion for the Lord, 
 these the Divine Word thus condemns as 
 fraudulent workmen : " Cursed is he that doeth 
 the work of the Lord fraudulently." 5 It is 
 not then without reason that the Lord reproves 
 him who thus deceives himself by unfair con- 
 siderations, saying: "But vain are the chil- 
 dren of men: the children of men are liars 
 upon the balances that they may deceive." 6 
 And therefore the blessed Apostle warns us 
 to keep hold of the reins of discretion and 
 not to be attracted by excess and swerve to 
 either side, saying: "Your reasonable ser- 
 vice." 7 And the giver of the law similarly 
 forbids the same thing, saying : " Let the 
 balance be just and the weights equal, the 
 bushel just and the sextarius equal," 8 and 
 Solomon also gives a like opinion on this 
 
 1 Ps. xcviii. (xcix.) 4. 
 
 2 Prov. iii. 9. 
 
 3 Gen. iv. 7 (xxx.). 
 
 4 Ps. xxxii. (xxxiii.) 5 ; Isa. lxi. S. 
 
 5 Ter. xlviii. 10. 
 
 « Ps. lxi. flxii.) 10. 
 
 7 Rom. xii. 1. 
 
 8 Lev. xix. 36. 
 
 matter: "Great and small weights and double 
 measures are both unclean before the Lord, and 
 one who uses them shall be hindered in his 
 contrivances." 9 Further not only in the way 
 in which we have said, but also in this must 
 we strive not to have unfair weights in our 
 hearts, nor double measures in the storehouse 
 of our conscience, i.e., not to overwhelm 
 those, to whom we are to preach the word 
 of the Lord, with precepts that are too strict 
 and heavier than we ourselves can bear, while 
 we take for granted that for ourselves those 
 things which have to do with the rule of 
 strictness are to be softened by a freer allow- 
 ance of relaxation. For when we do this, 
 what is it but to weigh and measure the goods 
 and fruits of the Lord's commands in a double 
 weight and measure? For if we dispense 
 them in one way to ourselves and in another 
 to our brethren, we are rightly blamed by the 
 Lord because we have unfair balances and 
 double measures, in accordance with the say- 
 ing of Solomon which tells us that "A double 
 weight is an abomination to the Lord, and 
 a deceitful balance is not good in His sight.'" 10 
 In this way also we plainly incur the guilt of 
 using a deceitful weight and a double mea- 
 sure, if out of the desire for the praise of men, 
 we make a show before the brethren of greater 
 strictness than what we practice in private in 
 our own cells, trying to appear more abstinent 
 and holier in the sight of men than in the 
 sight of God, an evil which we should not 
 only avoid but actually loathe. But mean- 
 while as we have wandered some way from 
 the question before us, let us return to the 
 point from which we started. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Of the time and measure of refreshment. 
 
 So then we should keep the observance of 
 the days mentioned in such a way that the 
 relaxation allowed may be useful rather than 
 harmful to the good of body and soul, because 
 the joy of any festival cannot blunt the pricks 
 of the flesh, nor can that fierce enemy of ours 
 be pacified by regard for days. In order then 
 that the observance of the customs appointed 
 for festival seasons may be kept and that the 
 most salutary rule of abstinence be not at 
 all exceeded it is enough for us to allow the 
 permitted relaxation to go so far, as for us 
 out of regard for the festival season to take 
 the food, which ought to be taken at the ninth 
 hour, a little earlier; viz., at the sixth hour, 
 
 3 Prov. xx. 10, 11. 
 
 10 lb. 23. 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS. 
 
 513 
 
 but with this condition, that the regular allow- 
 ance and character of the food be not altered, 
 for fear lest the purity of body and upright- 
 ness of soul which has been gained by the 
 abstinence of Lent be lost by the relaxation of 
 Easter-tide, and it profit us nothing to have 
 acquired by our fast what a careless satiety 
 causes us presently to lose, especially as the 
 well-known cunning of our enemy assaults the 
 stronghold of our purity then chiefly when he 
 sees that our guard over it is somewhat relaxed 
 at the celebration of some festival. Where- 
 fore we must most vigilantly look out that the 
 vigour of our soul be never enervated by seduc- 
 tive flatteries, and we lose not the purity of 
 our chastity, gained, as was said, by the con- 
 tinuous efforts of Lent, by the repose and 
 carelessness of Eastertide. And therefore no 
 addition, at all should be made to the quality 
 or the quantity of the food, but even on the 
 highest festivals we should similarly abstain 
 from those foods, by abstinence from which 
 we preserve our uprightness on common days, 
 that the joy of the festival may not excite in 
 us a most deadly conflict of carnal desires, 
 and so be turned to grief, and put an end to 
 that most excellent festival of the heart, which 
 exults in the joy of purity; and after a brief 
 show of carnal joy we begin to mourn our lost 
 purity of heart with a lasting sorrow of re- 
 pentance. Moreover we should strive that 
 this warning of the prophetic exhortation may 
 not be uttered against us to no purpose : 
 "Celebrate, O Judah, thy festivals, and pay 
 thy vows." 1 For if the occurrence of festival 
 days does not interfere with the continuity of 
 our abstinence, we shall continually enjoy 
 spiritual festivals and so, when we cease from 
 servile work, "there shall be month after 
 month and Sabbath after Sabbath." 2 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 A question on the different ways of keeping Lent. 
 
 Germanus : What is the reason why Lent 
 is kept for six weeks, while in some countries 
 a possibly more earnest care for religion seems 
 to have added a seventh week as well, though 
 neither number when you subtract Sunday and 
 Saturday, gives the total of forty days? For 
 only six and thirty days are included in 
 these weeks. 3 
 
 1 Nah. i. 15. 2 Isa. Ixvi. 23. 
 
 3 On the different uses in regard to the Lenten fast Socrates 
 (H. E. V. xxii.) writes as follows : " Those at Rome fast three succes- 
 sive weeks before Easter, excepting Saturdays and Sundavs. The 
 Illyrians, Achaians, and Alexandrians observe a fast of six weeks, 
 which they call the forty days' fast. Others commencing their fast 
 from the seventli week before Easter, and fasting for fifteen davs by 
 intervals, yet call that time the forty days' fast." There are difficul- 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 The answer to the effect that the fast of Lent has referer.ee to 
 the tithe of the year. 
 
 Theonas: Although the pious simplicity 
 of some folks Avould put aside a question on 
 this subject, yet because you are more scru- 
 pulous in your examination of those things 
 which another would consider unworthy to 
 be asked about, and want to know the whole 
 truth of this observance of ours and the secret 
 of it, you shall have a very clear reason for 
 this also, that you may still more plainly be 
 convinced that our predecessors taught no- 
 thing unreasonable. By the law of Moses the 
 command propounded to all the people gene- 
 rally was this : " Thou shalt offer to the Lord 
 thy God thy tithes and firstfruits." 4 And so, 
 while we are commanded to offer tithes of 
 our substance and all our fruits, it is much 
 more needful for us to offer tithes of our life 
 and ordinary employments and actions, which 
 certainly is clearly arranged for in the calcula- 
 tion of Lent. For the tithe of the number of 
 all the days included in the revolving circle of 
 the year is thirty-six days and a half. But 
 in seven weeks, if Sundays and Saturdays 
 are subtracted, there remain thirty-five days 
 assigned for fasting. But by the addition of 
 Easter Eve when the Saturday's fast is pro- 
 longed to the cock-crowing at the dawn of 
 Easter Day, not only is the number of thirty- 
 six days made up, but in regard to the tithe of 
 the five days which seemed to be over, if the 
 bit of the night which was added be taken into 
 account nothing will be wanting to the whole 
 sum. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 How we ought also to offer our firstfruits to the Lord. 
 
 But what shall I say of the firstfruits which 
 surely are given daily by all who serve Christ 
 
 ties in the way of accepting the statement about the custom at 
 Rome (see below), but the great variety of customs is fully confirmed 
 by Sozomen (H. E. VII. xix.): " In some churches the time before 
 Easter, which is called Quadragesima, and is devoted by the people 
 to fasting, is made to consist of six weeks : and this is the case in 
 Illyria, and the western regions, in Libya, throughout Egypt, and in 
 Palestine : whereas it is made to comprise seven weeks at Constanti- 
 nople, and in the neighbouring provinces as far as Phoenicia. In 
 some churches the people fast three alternate weeks during' the 
 space of six or seven weeks ; whereas in others they fast continu- 
 ously during the three weeks immediately preceding the festival." 
 The statement here made with regard to the West is true except as 
 regards Milan, where Saturday was kept (as in the East) as a festi- 
 val : while for the Constantinopolitan practice Chrysostom (Horn. xi. 
 in Gen. § 2) confirms what Sozomen says : wliile Cassian's language 
 in the text bears witness to the fact that both Egypt and Palestine 
 agreed with the Roman practice. In either case, whether the fast 
 began seveu or six weeks before Easter, the number of days ob- 
 served in the fast was the same ; Saturdays (with the exception of 
 Easter Eve which was always regarded as a fast) being excluded in 
 the former case, while they were all included in the latter. Cf be- 
 low, c. xxvi. 4 Exod. xxii. 29. 
 
5H 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 faithfully? For when men waking from sleep 
 and arising with renewed activity after their 
 rest, before they take in any impulse or 
 thought in their heart, or admit any recol- 
 lection or consideration of business conse- 
 crate their first and earliest thoughts as 
 divine offerings, what are they doing indeed 
 but rendering the firstfruits of their produce 
 through the High Priest Jesus Christ for the 
 enjoyment of this life and a figure of the 
 daily resurrection? And also when roused 
 from sleep in the same way they offer to God 
 a sacrifice of joy and invoke Him with the 
 first motion of their tongue and celebrate His 
 name and praise, and throwing open, the 
 first thing, the door of their lips to sing hymns 
 to Him they offer to God the offices of their 
 mouth; and to Him also in the same way 
 they bring the earliest offerings of their hands 
 and steps, when they rise from bed and stand 
 in prayer and before they use the services of 
 their limbs for their own purposes, take to 
 themselves nothing of their services, but for 
 His glory advance their steps, and set them 
 in His praise and so render the first fruits of 
 all their movements by stretching forth the 
 hands, bending the knees, and prostrating the 
 whole body. For in no other way can we ful- 
 fil that of which we sing in the Psalm : " I 
 prevented the dawning of the day and cried ; " 
 and: "Mine eyes to Thee have prevented the 
 morning that I might meditate on Thy 
 words ; " and : " In the morning shall my 
 prayer prevent Thee ; " x unless after our rest 
 in sleep when, as we said above, we are re- 
 stored as from darkness and death to this 
 light, we have the courage not to begin by 
 taking any of all the services both of mind 
 and body for our own uses. For there is no 
 other morning which the prophet "prevented," 
 or which in the same way we ought to pre- 
 vent, except either ourselves, i.e., our occupa- 
 tions and feelings and earthly cares, without 
 which we cannot exist — or the most subtle 
 suggestions of the adversary, which he tries to 
 suggest to us, while still resting and overcome 
 with sleep, by the phantoms of vain dreams, 
 with which, when we presently awake, he will 
 fill our minds and occupy us, that he may be 
 the first to seize and carry off the spoils of our 
 firstfruits. Wherefore we must take the ut- 
 most care (if we want to fulfil in act the mean- 
 ing of the above quoted verse) that an anxious 
 watchfulness takes regard of our first and 
 earliest morning thoughts, that they may not 
 be defiled beforehand being hastily taken 
 possession of by our jealous adversary, and 
 thus he may make our firstfruits to be rejected 
 
 by the Lord as worthless and common. And 
 if he is not prevented by us with watchful cir- 
 cumspection of mind, he will not lay aside his 
 habit of miserably anticipating us nor cease 
 day after day to prevent us by his wiles. And 
 therefore if we want to offer firstfruits that 
 are acceptable and well pleasing to God of the 
 fruits of our mind, we ought to spend no 
 ordinary care to keep all the senses of our 
 body, especially during the hours of the morn- 
 ing, as a sacred holocaust to the Lord pure and 
 undefiled in all things. And this kind of 
 devotion many even of those who live in the 
 world observe with the utmost care, as they 
 rise before it is light or very early, and do not 
 at all mix in the ordinary and necessary busi- 
 ness of this world before hastening to church 
 and striving to consecrate in the sight of God 
 the firstfruits of all their actions and doings. 
 
 CPIAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Why Lent is kept by very many with a different number of 
 days. 
 
 Further, as for what you say; viz., that in 
 some countries Lent is kept in different ways, 
 i.e., for six or seven weeks, it is but one sys- 
 tem and the same manner of the fast that is 
 preserved by the different observance of the 
 weeks. For those who think one ought to fast 
 also on the Saturday, have determined on the 
 observance of six weeks. They therefore fast 
 for six days out of the seven, and this being 
 six times repeated makes up the six and thirty 
 days. It is therefore, as we said, but one 
 system and the same manner of the fast, al- 
 though there seems to be a difference in the 
 number of the weeks. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Why it is called Quadragesima, when the fast is only kept for 
 thirty-six days. 
 
 But further, as man's carelessness dropped 
 out of sight the reason of this, this season 
 when, as was said, the tithes of the year are 
 offered by fasts for thirty-six days and a half, 
 was called Quadragesima, 2 a name which per- 
 
 1 Ps. cxviii. (cxix.) 147, 14S ; lxxxvii. (lxxxviii.) 14. 
 
 2 Cassian here gives three suggestions why the fast of thirty-six 
 days' duration was called Quadragesima. (1) As roughly corres- 
 ponding to the forty days fast of Moses, Elijah, and the Lord Him- 
 self; (2) because " forty " is the number associated with a time of 
 probation in Scripture ; and (3") because of the analogy of a legal 
 tribute of " Quadragesima" paid to the Sovereign. It is certainly 
 a curious and difficult question why the name Quadragesima should 
 have been so universally applied to the fast, when there is no evi- 
 dence of its having been kept for forty days till sometime after the 
 date of Gregory the Great, when Ash Wednesday and the three fol- 
 lowing days were prefixed to the six weeks expressly for the purpose 
 of making up the number forty. The nanie however, had as we 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS. 
 
 515 
 
 haps they thought ought to be given to it for 
 this reason; viz., that it is said that Moses 
 and Elijah and our Lord Jesus Christ Himself 
 fasted for forty days. To the mystery of which 
 number are not unsuitably applied those forty 
 years in which Israel dwelt in the wilderness, 
 and in like manner the forty stations which 
 they are said to have passed through with a 
 mystic meaning. Or perhaps the tithe was 
 properly given the name of Quadragesima 
 from the use of the custom-house. For so 
 that state tax is commonly called, from which 
 the same proportion of the increment is as- 
 signed for the king's use, as the legal tribute 
 of Quadragesima, which is required of us by 
 the King of all the ages for the use of our life. 
 At any rate, although this has nothing to do 
 with the question raised, yet I think that I 
 ought not to omit the fact that very often our 
 elders used to testify that especially on these 
 days the whole body of monks was attacked 
 according to the ancient custom of the people 
 opposed to them, and was more vehemently 
 urged to forsake their homes, for this reason, 
 because in accordance with this figure, whereby 
 the Egyptians formerly oppressed the children 
 of Israel with grievous afflictions, so now also 
 the spiritual Egyptians try to bow down the 
 true Israel, i.e., the monastic folk, with hard 
 and vile tasks, lest by means of that peace 
 which is dear to God, we should forsake the 
 land of Egypt, and for our good cross to the 
 desert of virtues, so that Pharaoh rages 
 against us and says : " They are idle and there- 
 fore they cry saying : Let us go and sacrifice to 
 the Lord our God. Let them be oppressed 
 with labours, and be harassed in their works, 
 and they shall not be harassed by vain words. " 1 
 For certainly their folly imagines that the holy 
 sacrifice of the Lord, which is only offered in 
 the desert of a pure heart, is the height of 
 folly, for "religion is an abomination to a 
 sinner." 2 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 How those who are perfect go beyond the fixed rule of Lent. 
 
 By this law of Lent then the man who is 
 upright and perfect is not restrained nor is he 
 content with merely submitting to that paltry 
 rule which the heads of the church have estab- 
 
 see from .Socrates, Sozomen, Cassian himself, and many other 
 writers, existed long before this; and on the whole it appears proba- 
 ble that it originated in none of the reasons given above by Cassian, 
 but that in the first instance it was connected " with the period dur- 
 ing which our Lord yielded to the power of death, which was 
 estimated at forty hours ; viz., from noon on Friday till 4 a.m. on 
 Sunday." See Dictionary of Christian Antiquities, Vol. ii. p. 973 ; 
 and cf. Irenseus Ep. ad Victor, in Euseb. V. xxiv.; and Tertullian 
 De Orat. c. 18; and De Jejuniis c. ii. and xiii. 
 
 1 Exod. v. 8, 9. 2 Ecclus. 1. 24. 
 
 lished for those who all the year round are 
 involved in pleasure or business, that they 
 may be bound by this legal requirement and 
 forced at any rate during these days to find 
 time for the Lord, and dedicate to Him the 
 tithe of the days of their life, all of which 
 they would have consumed as their profits. 
 But the righteous, for whom the law is not 
 appointed, and who devote to spiritual duties 
 not a small part; viz., the tenth, but the whole 
 time of their life, because they are free from 
 the burden of tithes according to law, for this 
 reason, if any worthy and pious occasion hap- 
 pening to them constrains them, are ready to 
 relax their station fast 3 without any hesita- 
 tion. For in their case it is no paltry tithe 
 that is diminished, as they offer all that 
 they have to the Lord equally with themselves. 
 And this certainly a man could not do without 
 being guilty of a grievous wrong, who, offer- 
 ing nothing of his own free will to God, is 
 forced to pay his tithes by the stern compul- 
 sion of the law which takes no excuse. 
 Wherefore it is clearly established that the 
 servant of the law cannot be perfect, who only 
 shuns those things which are forbidden and 
 does those things which are commanded, but 
 that those are really perfect who do not take 
 advantage even of those things which the law 
 allows. And in this way, though it is said of 
 the Mosaic law that "the law brought nothing 
 to perfection," 4 we read that some of the 
 saints in the Old Testament were perfect 
 because they went beyond the commands of 
 the law and lived under the perfection of the 
 Gospel : " Knowing that the law is not ap- 
 pointed for the righteous but for the un- 
 righteous and disobedient, for the ungodly and 
 sinners, for the wicked and defiled, etc." 5 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Of the origin and beginning of Lent. 
 
 Howbeit you should know that as long as 
 the primitive church retained its perfection 
 unbroken, this observance of Lent did not 
 exist. For they were not bound by the re- 
 quirements of this order, or by any legal 
 enactments, nor confined in the very narrow 
 limits of the fast, as the fast embraced equally 
 the whole year round. But when the multi- 
 tude of believers began day by day to decline 
 from that apostolic fervour, and to look after 
 their own wealth, and not to portion it out for 
 the g;ood of all the faithful in accordance with 
 
 3 Statio. Cf Note on the Institutes V. xxiv. 
 
 4 Heb. vii. 19. 5 1 Tim. i. 9, 10. 
 
<U6 
 
 b 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 the arrangement of the apostles, but having 
 an eye to their own private expenses, tried 
 not only to keep it but actually to increase 
 it, not content with following the example of 
 Ananias and Sapphira, then it seemed good 
 to all the priests that men who were hampered 
 by worldly cares, and almost ignorant, if I 
 may say so, of abstinence and contrition, 
 should be recalled to the pious duty by a fast 
 canonically enjoined, and be constrained by 
 the necessity of paying the legal tithes, as this 
 certainly would be good for the weak brethren 
 and could not do any harm to the perfect who 
 were living under the grace of the gospel and 
 by their voluntary devotion going beyond the 
 law, so as to succeed in attaining to the 
 blessedness which the Apostle speaks of : 
 " For sin shall not have dominion over you ; 
 for ye are not under the law but under 
 grace." 1 For of a truth sin cannot exercise 
 dominion over one who lives faithfully under 
 the liberty of grace. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 A question, how we ought to understand the Apostle's words: 
 " Sin shall not have dominion over you." 
 
 Germanus : Because this saying of the 
 Apostle, which promises freedom from care 
 not only to monks but to all Christians in 
 general, cannot lead us wrong, it seems to us 
 somewhat obscure. For whereas he maintains 
 that all those who believe the gospel are at 
 liberty and free from the yoke and dominion 
 of sin, how is it that the dominion of sin holds 
 vigorous sway over almost all the baptized, 
 in accordance with the Lord's words, where 
 He says: "Every one that doeth sin is the 
 servant of sin " ? 2 
 
 one who has not laid the foundation by a 
 similar study and training. And therefore I 
 think it necessary for us first to inquire some- 
 what carefully what is the purpose or mean- 
 ing of the law, and what is tire system and 
 perfection of grace, that from this wc may 
 succeed in understanding the dominion of sin 
 and how to drive it out. And so the law 
 chiefly commands men to seek the bonds of 
 wedlock, saying: ''Blessed is he that hath 
 seed in Sion and an household in Jerusalem ; " 3 
 and: "Cursed is the barren that hath not 
 borne." 4 On the other hand grace invites us 
 to the purity of perpetual chastity, and the 
 undefiled state of blessed virginity, saying: 
 " Blessed are the barren, and the breasts which 
 have not given suck;" and: "he that hateth 
 not father and mother and wife cannot be my 
 disciple;" and this of the Apostle: "It re- 
 maineth that they that have wives be as 
 
 'though they had them not." 5 The law says: 
 " Thou shalt not delay to offer thy tithes and 
 
 j firstfruits ; " grace says: "If thou wilt be 
 perfect, go and sell all that thou hast and 
 
 I give to the poor." The law forbids not re- 
 taliation for wrongs and vengeance for inju- 
 ries, saying: "An eye for an eye and a tooth 
 for a tooth." Grace would have our patience 
 proved by the injuries and blows offered to 
 us being redoubled, and bids us be ready to 
 endure twice as much damage; saying: "If a 
 man strike thee on one cheek, offer him the 
 other also; and to him who will contend with 
 thee at the law and take away thy coat, give 
 him thy cloak also.' 1 7 The one decrees that 
 we should hate our enemies, the other that we 
 should love them so that it holds that even for 
 them we ought always to pray to God. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 The answer on the difference between grace and the commands 
 of the law. 
 
 Theonas : Your inquiry once more raises J 
 before us a question of no small extent. The 
 explanation of which though I know that it 
 cannot be taught to or understood by the in- 
 experienced, yet as far as I can, I will try to 
 set forth in words and briefly to explain, if 
 only your minds will follow up and act upon 
 what we say. For whatever is known not by | 
 teaching but by experience, just as it cannot 
 be taught by one without experience, so neither 
 can it be grasped or taken in by the mind of 
 
 1 Rom. vi. 14. 
 
 2 S. John viii. 34. 
 
 Of the fact that the precepts of the gospel are milder than 
 those of the law. 
 
 Whoever therefore climbs this height of 
 evangelical perfection, is at once raised by 
 the merits of such virtue above every law, and 
 disregarding as trivial all that is commanded 
 by Moses, recognizes that he is only subject 
 to the grace of the Saviour, by whose aid he 
 knows that he attained to that most exalted 
 condition. Therefore sin has no dominion 
 over him, "because the love of God, which 
 is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy 
 Ghost which is given to us," 8 shuts out all 
 
 3 Isa xxxi. 9 dxx.). 
 
 5 S. Luke xxiii. 29; xiv. 26; 1 Cor. 
 
 Exod. xxii. 29; S. Matt. xix. 21. 
 
 7 Exod. xxi. 24; S. Matt. v. 39, 40. 
 
 Cf. Job xxiv. 21 
 
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS. 
 
 517 
 
 care for everything else, and can neither 
 desire what is forbidden, or disregard what is 
 commanded, as its whole aim and all its 
 desire is ever fixed on divine love, and to 
 such an extent is it not caught by the delights 
 of worthless things, that it actually does not 
 take advantage of those things which are per- 
 mitted. But under the law, where lawful 
 marriages are observed, although the rovings 
 of wantonness are restrained, and bound down 
 to one woman alone, yet the pricks of car- 
 nal lust cannot help being vigorous; and 
 it is hard for the fire, for which fuel is ex- 
 pressly supplied, to be thus shut in within pre- 
 arranged limits, so as. not to spread further 
 and burn up anything it touches. As even if 
 this objection occurs to it that it is not al- 
 lowed to be kindled beyond these limits, yet 
 even while it is kept in check, it is on fire 
 because the will itself is in fault, and its habit 
 of carnal intercourse hurries it into too speedy 
 excesses of adultery. But those whom the 
 grace' of the Saviour has fired with the holy 
 love of chastity, so consume all the thorns 
 of carnal desires in the fire of the Lord's love, 
 that no dying embers of sin interfere with the 
 coldness of their purity. The servants of 
 the law then from the use of lawful things 
 fall away to unlawful ; the partakers of grace 
 while they disregard lawful things know no- 
 thing of unlawful ones. But as sin is alive 
 in one who loves marriage, so is it also 
 in one who is satisfied with merely paying 
 his tithes and firstfruits. For, while he is 
 dawdling or careless, he is sure to sin in re- 
 gard to either their quality or quantity, or the 
 daily distribution of them. For as he is 
 commanded unweariedly to minister to those 
 in want of what is his, although he may dis- 
 pense it with the fullest faith and devotion, 
 yet it is hard for him not to fall often into 
 the snares of sin. But over those who have 
 not set at naught the counsel of the Lord, but 
 who, disposing of all their property to the 
 poor, take up their cross and follow the be- 
 stower of grace, sin can have no dominion. 
 For no faithless anxiety for getting food will 
 annoy him who piously distributes and dis- 
 perses his wealth already consecrated to Christ 
 and no longer regarded as his own ; nor will 
 any grudging hesitation take away from the 
 cheerfulness of his almsgiving, because with- 
 out any thought of his own needs or fear of 
 his own food running short he is distributing 
 what has once for all been completely offered 
 to God, and is no longer regarded as his own, 
 as he is sure that when he has succeeded in 
 stripping himself as he desires, he will be fed 
 by God much more than the birds of the air. 
 On the other hand he who retains his goods 
 
 of this world, or, bound by the rules of the 
 old law, distributes the tithe of his produce, 
 and his firstfruits, or a portion of his income, 
 although he may to a considerable degree 
 quench the fire of his sins by this dew of 
 almsgiving, yet, however generously he gives 
 away his wealth, it is impossible for him 
 altogether to rid himself of the dominion of 
 sin, unless perhaps by the grace of the Saviour, 
 together with his substance he gets rid of all 
 love of possessing. In the same way he can- 
 not fail to be subject to the bloody sway of 
 sin, whoever chooses to pull out, as the law 
 commands, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a 
 tooth, or to hate his enemy, for while he 
 desires by retaliation in exchange to avenge 
 an injury done to himself, and while he che- 
 rishes bitter hatred against an enemy, he is 
 sure always to be inflamed with the passion 
 of anger and rage. But whoever lives under 
 the light of the grace of the gospel, and over- 
 comes evil by not resisting it, but by bearing 
 it, and does not hesitate of his own free will 
 to give to one who smites his right cheek, the 
 other also, and to one who wants to raise a 
 lawsuit against him for his coat, gives his 
 cloak also, and who loves his enemies, and 
 prays for those who slander him, this man has 
 broken the yoke of sin and burst its chains. 
 For he is not living under the law, which does 
 not destroy the seeds of sin (whence not with- 
 out reason the Apostle says of it: "There is 
 a setting aside of the former commandment 
 because of the weakness and unprofitableness 
 thereof : for the law brought nothing to perfec- 
 tion;" and the Lord says by the prophet: 
 "And I gave them commands that were not 
 good, and ordinances, whereby they could 
 not live" 1 ), but under grace which does not 
 merely lop off the boughs of wickedness, but 
 actually tears up the very roots of an evil 
 will. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 How a man can be shown to be under grace. 
 
 Whoever then strives to reach the perfec- 
 tion of evangelical teaching, this man living 
 under grace is not oppressed by the dominion 
 of sin, for to be under grace is to do those 
 things which grace commands. But whoever 
 will not submit himself to the complete re- 
 quirements of evangelical perfection, must not 
 remain ignorant that, although he seems to be 
 baptized and to be a monk, yet he is not under 
 grace, but is still shackled by the chains of 
 the law, and weighed down by the burden of 
 sin. For it is the aim of Him, who by the 
 
 1 Heb. vii. 18, 19; Ezek. xx. 25. 
 
5i8 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 grace of adoption accepts all those by whom 
 He has been received, not to destroy but to 
 build upon, not to abolish but to fulfil the 
 Mosaic requirements. But some knowing 
 nothing about this, and disregarding the splen- 
 did counsels and exhortations of Christ, are so 
 emancipated by the carelessness of a freedom 
 too hastily assumed, that they not only fail to 
 carry out the commands of Christ as if they 
 were too hard, but actually scorn as anti- 
 quated, the commands given to them as begin- 
 ners and children by the law of Moses, saying 
 in this dangerous freedom of theirs that which 
 the Apostle execrates : " We have sinned, 
 because we are not under the law but under 
 grace." x He then who is neither under grace, 
 because he has never climbed the heights of 
 the Lord's teaching, nor under the law, be- 
 cause he has not accepted even those small 
 commands of the law, this man, ground down 
 beneath a twofold rule of sin, fancies that he 
 has received the grace of Christ, simply and 
 solely for this, that by this dangerous liberty 
 of his he may make himself none of His, and 
 falls into that state, which the Apostle Peter 
 warns us to avoid, saying: "Act as free, and 
 not having your liberty as a cloak of wicked- 
 ness." The blessed Apostle Paul also says: 
 " For ye, brethren, were called to liberty," i.e., 
 that ye might be free from the dominion of 
 sin, "only use not your liberty for an occasion 
 of the flesh," ' 2 i.e., believe that the doing 
 away with the commands of the law is a 
 licence to sin. But this liberty, the Apostle 
 Paul teaches us is nowhere but where the Lord 
 is dwelling, for he says: "The Lord is the 
 Spirit, but where the Spirit of the Lord is 
 there is liberty." 3 Wherefore I know not 
 whether I could express and explain the 
 meaning of the blessed Apostle, as those know 
 how, who have experience; one thing I do 
 know, that it is very clearly revealed even 
 without anyone's explanation to all those who 
 have perfectly acquired nguxuxri, i.e., practi- 
 cal training. For they will need no effort to 
 understand in discussion what they have 
 already learnt by practice. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 A question, why sometimes when we are fasting more strictly 
 than usual, we are troubled by carnal desires more keenly 
 than usual. 
 
 Germanus : You have very clearly explained 
 a most difficult question, and one which, as 
 we think, is unknown to many. Wherefore 
 we pray you to add this also for our good, and 
 
 Rom. 
 
 Pet. ii. 16; Gal. v. 13. 
 
 2 Cor. iii. 17. 
 
 carefully to expound why sometimes when we 
 are fasting more strictly than usual, and are 
 exhausted and worn out, severer bodily strug- 
 gles are excited. For often on waking from 
 sleep, when we have discovered that we have 
 been defiled 4 we are so dejected in heart that 
 we do not even venture faithfully to rise even 
 for prayer. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 The answer, telling that this question should be reserved for a 
 future Conference. 
 
 Theonas: Your zeal indeed, whereby you 
 desire to reach the way of perfection, not for 
 a moment only but fully and perfectly, urges 
 us to continue this discussion unweariedly. 
 For you are anxiously inquiring not about 
 external chastity or outward circumcision, but 
 about that which is secret, as you know that 
 complete perfection does not consist in this 
 visible continence of the flesh which can be 
 attained either by constraint, or by hypocrisy 
 even by unbelievers, but in that voluntary and 
 invisible purity of heart, which the blessed 
 Apostle describes as follows: "For he is not 
 a Jew which is so outwardly, nor is that cir- 
 cumcision which is outward in the flesh, but 
 he is a Jew which is one inwardly, and the cir- 
 cumcision is that of the heart, in the spirit rot 
 in the letter, whose praise is not of men but 
 of God," 5 who alone searches the secrets of the 
 heart. But because it is not possible for your 
 wish to be fully satisfied (as the short space of 
 the night that is left is not enough for the in- 
 vestigation of this most difficult question,) 
 I think it well to postpone it for a while. For 
 these matters, as they should be propounded 
 by us quietly and with an heart entirely free 
 from all bustling thoughts, so should they be 
 received into your minds; for just as the in- 
 quiry ought to be undertaken for the sake of 
 our common purity, so they cannot be learnt 
 or acquired by one who is without the gift of 
 uprightness. For we do not ask what argu- 
 ments of empty words, but what the inward 
 faith of the conscience and the greater force 
 of truth can persuade. And therefore with 
 regard to the knowledge and teaching of this 
 purification nothing can be brought forward 
 except by one who has had experience of it, 
 nor can anything be committed except to one 
 who is a most eager and very earnest lover of 
 the truth itself, who does not hope to attain it 
 by asking questions with mere vain words, but 
 by striving with all his might and main, with 
 no wish for useless chattering but with the 
 desire to purify himself internally. 
 
 4 Cum deprehenderimusnos sordidi liquoris contagius pertulisse. 
 
 5 Rom. ii. 2S, 29. 
 
SECOND AND THIRD CONFERENCES OF ABBOT THEONAS. 519 
 
 XXII. 
 
 THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS. 
 
 ON NOCTURNAL ILLUSIONS. 
 This Conference is omitted. 
 
 XXIII. 
 THE THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS. 
 
 ON SLNLESSNESS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Discourse of Abbot Theonas on the Apostle's words : 
 do not the good which I would." 
 
 Fori 
 
 At the return of light therefore, as the old 
 man was forced by our intense urgency to in- 
 vestigate the depths of the Apostle's subject, 
 he spoke as follows : As for the passages by 
 which you try to prove that the Apostle Paul 
 spoke not in his own person but in that of 
 sinners: " For I do not the good that I would, 
 but the evil which I hate, that I do;" or 
 this : " But if I do that which I would not, it 
 is no longer I that do it but sin that dwelleth 
 in me;" or what follows: "Fori delight in 
 the law of God after the inner man, but I see 
 another law in my members opposing the law 
 of my mind, and bringing me into captivity 
 to the law of sin which is in my members; " x 
 these passages on the contrary plainly show 
 that they cannot possibly fit the person of 
 sinners, but that what is said can only apply 
 to those that are perfect, and that it only suits 
 the chastity of those who follow the good 
 example of the Apostles. Else how could 
 these words apply to the person of sinners : 
 "For I do not the good which I would, but 
 the evil which I hate that I do " ? or even 
 this: "But if I do what I would not it is no 
 longer I that do it but sin that dwelleth in 
 me " ? For what sinner defiles himself unwil- 
 
 1 Rom. vii. 18, sq. 
 
 lingly by adulteries and fornication? Who 
 against his will prepares plots against his 
 neighbour? Who is driven by unavoidable 
 necessity to oppress a man by false witness or 
 cheat him by theft, or covet the goods of 
 another or shed his blood? Nay rather, as 
 Scripture says, "Mankind is diligently in- 
 clined to wickedness from his youth." 2 For 
 to such an extent are all inflamed by the love 
 of sin and desire to carry out what they like, 
 that they actually look out with watchful care 
 for an opportunity of committing wickedness 
 and are afraid of being too slow to enjoy 
 their lusts, and glory in their shame and the 
 mass of their crimes, as the Apostle says in 
 censure, 3 and seek credit for themselves out 
 of their own confusion, of whom also the 
 prophet Jeremiah maintains that they commit 
 their flagitious crimes not only not unwil- 
 lingly nor with ease of heart and body, but 
 with laborious efforts to such an extent that 
 they come to toil to carry them out, so that 
 they are prevented even by the hindrance of 
 arduous difficulty from their deadly quest of 
 sin ; as he says : " They have laboured to do 
 wickedly." 4 Who also will say that this 
 applies to sinners: "And so with the mind I 
 myself serve the law of God, but with the 
 flesh the law of sin," as it is plain that they 
 serve God neither with the mind nor the 
 flesh? Or how can those who sin with the 
 body serve God with the mind, when the flesh 
 
 2 Gen. viii. 21. 
 
 3 Cf. Phil 
 
 4 Jer. ix. 5. 
 
5 20 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 receives the incitement to sin from the heart, 
 and the Creator of either nature Himself de- 
 clares that the fount and spring of sin flows 
 from the latter, saying : " From the heart pro- 
 ceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornications, 
 thefts, false witness, etc." 1 Wherefore it is 
 clearly shown that this cannot in any way be 
 taken of the person of sinners, who not only 
 do not hate, but actually love what is evil and 
 are so far from serving God with either the 
 mind or the flesh that they sin with the mind 
 before they do with the flesh, and before they 
 carry out the pleasures of the body are over- 
 come by sin in their mind and thoughts. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 How the Apostle completed many good actions. 
 
 It remains therefore for us to measure its 
 meaning and drift from the inmost feelings of 
 the speaker, and to discuss what the blessed 
 Apostle called good, and what he pronounced 
 by comparison evil, not by the bare meaning 
 of the words, but with the same insight which 
 he showed, and to investigate his meaning 
 with due regard to the worth and goodness of 
 the speaker. For then we shall be able to 
 understand the words, which were uttered by 
 God's inspiration, in accordance with his pur- 
 pose and wish, when we weigh the position 
 and character of those by whom they were 
 spoken, and are ourselves clothed with the 
 same feelings (not in words but by experi- 
 ence), in accordance with the character of 
 which most certainly all the thoughts are 
 conceived and opinions uttered. Wherefore 
 let us carefully consider what was in the main 
 that good which the Apostle could not do 
 when he would. For we know that there are 
 many good things which we cannot deny that 
 the blessed Apostle and all men as good as 
 he either have by nature, or acquire by grace. 
 For chastity is good, continence is praise- 
 worthy, prudence is to be admired, kindness 
 is liberal, sobriety is careful, temperance is 
 modest, pity is kind, justice is holy: all of 
 which we cannot doubt' existed fully and in 
 perfection in the Apostle Paul and his com- 
 panions, so that they taught religion by the 
 lesson of their virtues rather than their words. 
 What if they were always consumed with the 
 constant care of all the churches and watchful 
 anxiety? How great a good is this pity, what 
 perfection it is to burn for them that are 
 offended, to be weak with the weak! 2 If then 
 the Apostle abounded with such good things, 
 we cannot recognize what that good was, in 
 
 1 S. Matt. xv. 
 
 Cf. 2 Cor. xi. 
 
 the perfection of which the Apostle was lack- 
 ing, unless we have advanced to that state of 
 mind in which he was speaking. And so all 
 those virtues which we say that he possessed, 
 though they are like most splendid and pre- 
 cious gems, yet when they are compared with 
 that most beautiful and unique pearl which 
 the merchant in the gospel sought and wanted 
 to acquire by selling all that he possessed, 
 so does their value seem poor and trifling, so 
 that if they are without hesitation got rid of, 
 the possession of one good thing alone will 
 enrich the man who sells countless good 
 things. 
 
 CPIAPTER III. 
 
 What is really the good which the Apostle testifies that he 
 could not perform. 
 
 What then is that one thing which is so 
 incomparably above those great and innu- 
 merable good things, that, while they are 
 all scorned and rejected, it alone should be 
 acquired? Doubtless it is that truly good 
 part, the grand and lasting character of which 
 is thus described by the Lord, when Mary 
 disregarded the duties of hospitality and 
 courtesy and chose it: "Martha, Martha, 
 thou art careful and troubled about many 
 things : but there is but need of but few things 
 or even of one only. Mary hath chosen the 
 good part which shall not be taken away from 
 her." 3 Contemplation then, i.e., meditation 
 on God, is the one thing, the value of which 
 all the merits of our righteous acts, all our 
 aims at virtue, come short of. And all those 
 things which we said existed in the Apostle 
 Paul, were not only good and useful, but even 
 great and splendid. Put as, for example, the 
 metal of alloy which is considered of some 
 use and worth, becomes worthless when silver 
 is taken into account, and again the value of 
 silver disappears in comparison with gold, 
 and gold itself is disregarded when compared 
 with precious stones, and yet a quantity of 
 precious stones however splendid are outdone 
 by the brightness of a single pearl, so all 
 those merits of holiness, although they are not 
 merely good and useful for the present life, 
 but also secure the gift of eternity, yet if they 
 are compared with the merit of Divine con- 
 templation, will be considered trifling and so 
 to speak, fit to be sold. And to support this 
 illustration by the authority of Scripture, does 
 not Scripture' declare of all things in general 
 which were created by God, and say: ''And 
 behold everything that God had made was 
 very good;" and again: "And things that 
 
 3 S. Luke x. 41, 42. Cf. the note on I. viii. 
 
THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS. 
 
 521 
 
 God hath made are ail good in their season " ? a 
 These things then which in the present time 
 are termed not simply and solely good, but 
 emphatically " very good " (for they are really 
 convenient for us while living in this world, 
 either for purposes of life, or for remedies for 
 the body, or by reason of some unknown use- 
 fulness, or else they are indeed "very good," 
 because they enable us "to see the invisible 
 things of God from the creatures of the world, 
 being understood by the things that are made, 
 even His eternal power and Godhead," " from 
 this great and orderly arrangement of the 
 fabric of the world; and to contemplate them 
 from the existence of everything in it), yet 
 none of these things will keep the name of 
 good if they are regarded in the light of that 
 world to come, where no variation of good 
 things, and no loss of true blessedness need 
 be feared. The bliss of which world is thus 
 described: "The light of the moon shall be 
 as the light of the sun, and the light of the 
 sun shall be sevenfold as the light of seven 
 days." 3 These things then which are great 
 and wondrous to be gazed on, and marvellous, 
 will at once appear as vanity if they are com- 
 pared with the future promises from faith ; as 
 David says: "They all shall wax old as a gar- 
 ment, and as a vesture shall Thou change 
 them, and they shall be changed. But Thou 
 art the sams, and Thy years shall not fail." 4 
 Because then there is nothing of itself endur- 
 ing, nothing; unchangeable, nothing good but 
 Deity alone, while every creature, to obtain 
 the blessing of eternity and immutability, aims 
 at this not by its own nature but by participa- 
 tion of its Creator, and His grace, they cannot 
 maintain their character for goodness when 
 compared with their Creator. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 How man's goodness and righteousness are not good if 
 compared with the goodness and righteousness of God. 
 
 But if we want also to establish the force 
 of this opinion by still clearer proofs, is it 
 not the case that while we read of many things 
 as called good in the gospel, as a good tree, 
 and good treasure, and a good man, and a 
 good servant, for He says : " A good tree can- 
 not bring forth evil fruit ; " and : " a good man 
 out of the good treasure of his heart brings 
 forth good things;" and: "Well done, good 
 and faithful servant ; " 5 and certainly there can 
 be no doubt that none of these are good in 
 themselves, yet if we take into consideration 
 the goodness of God, none of them will be 
 
 1 Gen. i. 31 ; Ecclus. xxxi:;. 16. 
 
 2 Rom. i. 20. 
 
 5 S. Matt. vii. iS; xii. 35; xxv. 21. 
 
 3 Isa. xxx. 26. 
 
 * Ps. ci. (cii.) 27, 2S. 
 
 called good, as the Lord says:* "None is good 
 save God alone" ? 6 In whose sight even the 
 apostles themselves, who in the excellence cf 
 their calling in many ways went beyond the 
 goodness of mankind, are said to be evil, as 
 the Lord thus speaks to them: "If ye then 
 being evil know how to give good gifts to 
 your children, how much more shall your 
 Father which is in heaven give gccd things to 
 them that ask Him." 7 Finally as our good- 
 ness turns to badness in the eyes of the High- 
 est so also our righteousness when set against 
 the Divine righteousness is considered like a 
 menstruous cloth, as Isaiah the prophet says: 
 "All your righteousness is like a menstruous 
 cloth." 8 And to produce something still 
 plainer, even the vital precepts of the law 
 itself, which are said to have been "given by 
 angels by the the hand of a mediator," and 
 of which the same Apostle says : " So the law 
 indeed is holy and the commandment is holy 
 and just and good," 9 when they are compared 
 with the perfection of the gospel are pro- 
 nounced anything but good by the Divine 
 oracle: for He says: "And I gave them pre- 
 cepts that were not good, and ordinances 
 whereby they should not live in them." 10 The 
 Apostle also affirms that the glory of the law 
 is so dimmed by the light of the New Testa- 
 ment that he declares that in comparison with 
 the splendour of the gospel it is not to be 
 considered glorious, saying: "For even that 
 which was glorious was not glorified by reason 
 of the glory that excelleth." u And Scripture 
 keeps up this comparison on the other side 
 also, i.e., in weighing the merits of sinners, 
 so that in comparison with the wicked it justi- 
 fies those who have sinned less, saying: 
 "Sodom is justified above thee;" and again: 
 "For what hath thy sister Sodom sinned?" 
 and: "The rebellious Israel hath justified her 
 soul in comparison of the treacherous Judah. " 12 
 So then the merits of all the virtues, which I 
 enumerated above, though in themselves they 
 are good and precious, yet become dim in 
 comparison of the brightness of contempla- 
 tion. For they greatly hinder and retard the 
 saints who are taken up with earthly aims 
 even at good works, from the contemplation 
 of that sublime good. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 How no one can be continually intent upon that highest good. 
 
 For who, when "delivering the poor from 
 the hand of them that are too strong for him, 
 
 S. Luke xviii. 19. ,J Gal. iii. 19 ; Rom. vii. 12. 
 
 7 S. Matt. vii. 11. I0 Ezek. xx. 25. 
 
 8 Isa. Ixiv. 6. n 2 Cor. iii. 10. 
 12 Ezek. xvi. 52, 49; Jer. iii. 11. 
 
522 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 and the needy» and the poor from them that 
 strip him," who when "breaking the jaws of 
 the wicked and snatching their prey from be- 
 tween their teeth," 1 can with a calm mind 
 regard the glory of the Divine Majesty during 
 the actual work of intervention? Who when 
 ministering support to the poor, or when re- 
 ceiving with benevolent kindness the crowds 
 that come to him, can at the very moment 
 when he is with anxious mind perplexed for 
 the wants of his brethren, contemplate the 
 vastness of the bliss on high, and while he is 
 shaken by the troubles and cares of the pres- 
 ent life look forward to the state of the world 
 to come with an heart raised above the stains 
 of earth? Whence the blessed David when 
 laying down that this alone is good for man, 
 longs to cling constantly to God, and says: 
 " It is good for me to cling to God, and to put 
 my hope in the Lord." " And Ecclesiastes 
 also declares that this cannot be done without 
 fault by any of the saints, and says : " For there 
 is not a righteous man upon earth, that doeth 
 good and sinneth not." 3 For who, even if he 
 be the chief of all righteous and holy men, can 
 we ever think could, while bound in the chains 
 of this life, so acquire this chief good, as never 
 to cease from divine contemplation, or be 
 thought to be drawn away by earthly thoughts 
 even for a short time from Him Who alone 
 is good? Who ever takes no care for food, 
 none for clothing or other carnal things, or 
 when anxious about receiving the brethren, or 
 change of place, or building his cell, has 
 never desired the aid of man's assistance, 
 nor when harassed by scarcity and want has 
 incurred this sentence of reproof from the 
 Lord: " Be not anxious for your life what ye 
 shall eat, nor for your body what ye shall put 
 on " ? 4 Further we confidently assert that 
 even the Apostle Paul himself who surpassed 
 in the number of his sufferings the toils of all 
 the saints, could not possibly fulfil this, as he 
 himself testifies to the disciples in the Acts 
 of the Apostles : " Ye yourselves know that 
 these hands have ministered to my needs, and 
 to the needs of those who were with me," or 
 when in writing in the Thessalonians he 
 testifies that he " worked in labour and weari- 
 ness night and day.'' 5 And although for 
 this there were great rewards for his merits 
 prepared, yet his mind, however holy and 
 sublime it might be, could not help being 
 sometimes drawn away from that heavenly 
 contemplation by its attention to earthly 
 labours. Further, when he saw himself en- 
 riched with such practical fruits, and on the 
 
 1 Ps. xxxiv. (xxxv.) 10; Job xxix. tj. * S. Matt. vi. 23. 
 
 2 Ps. lxxii. (lxxiii.) 2S. • B Acts xx. 34; 2 Thess. iii. 8. 
 = Eccl. vii. 21. 
 
 other hand considered in his heart the good 
 of meditation, and weighed as it were in one 
 scale the profit of all these labours and in the 
 other the delights of divine contemplation, 
 when for a long time he had corrected the 
 balance in his breast, while the vast rewards 
 for his labours delighted him on one side, 
 and on the other the desire for unity with and 
 the inseparable companionship of Christ in- 
 clined him to depart this life, at last in his 
 perplexity he cries out and says : " What I 
 shall choose I know not. For I am in a strait 
 betwixt two, having a desire to depart and to 
 be with Christ, for it were much better : but 
 to abide in the flesh is more necessary for 
 your sakes." c Though then in many ways he 
 preferred this excellent good to all the fruits 
 of his preaching, yet he submits himself in 
 consideration of love, without which none can 
 gain the Lord; and for their sakes, whom 
 hitherto he had soothed with milk as nourish- 
 ment from the breasts of the gospel, does not 
 refuse to be parted from Christ, which is bad 
 for himself though useful for others. For he 
 is driven to choose this the rather by that 
 excessive goodness of his whereby f6r the sal- 
 vation of his brethren he is ready, were it 
 possible, to incur even the last evil of an 
 Anathema. "For I could wish," he says, 
 "that I myself were Anathema from Christ for 
 my brethren's sake, who are my kinsmen ac- 
 cording to the flesh, who are Israelites," 7 i.e., 
 I could wish to be subject not only to tem- 
 poral, but even to perpetual punishment, if 
 only all men, were it possible, might enjoy 
 the fellowship of Christ: for I am sure that 
 the salvation of all would be better for Christ 
 and for me than my own. That then the Apostle 
 might perfectly gain this chief good, i.e., to 
 enjoy the vision of God and to be joined con- 
 tinually to Christ, he was ready to be parted 
 from this body, which as it is feeble and hin- 
 dered by the many requirements of its frailties 
 cannot help separating from union with Christ: 
 for it is impossible for the mind, that is ha- 
 rassed by such frequent cares, and hampered 
 by such various and tiresome troubles, always 
 to enjoy the Divine vision. For what aim of 
 the saints can be so persistent, what purpose 
 can be so high that that crafty plotter does 
 not sometimes destroy it ? Who has fre- 
 quented the recesses of the desert and shunned 
 intercourse with all men in such a way that 
 he never trips by unnecessary thoughts, and 
 by looking on things or being occupied in 
 earthly actions falls away from that contem- 
 plation of God, which truly alone is good? 
 Who ever could preserve such fervour of spirit 
 
 Phil. i. 22-24. 
 
 7 Rom. ix. 3, 4. 
 
THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS. 
 
 52, 
 
 as not sometimes to pass by roving thoughts 
 from his attention to prayer, and fall away 
 suddenly from heavenly to earthly things? 
 Which of us (to pass over other times of wan- 
 dering) even at the very moment when he 
 raises his soul in prayer to God on high, does 
 not fall into a sort of stupor, and even against 
 his will offend by that very thing from which 
 he hoped for pardon of his sins ? Who, I ask, 
 is so alert and vigilant as never, while he is 
 singing a Psalm to God, to allow his mind to 
 wander from the meaning of Scripture? Who 
 is so intimate with and closely joined to God, 
 as to congratulate himself on having carried 
 out for a single day that rule of the Apostle's, 
 whereby he bids us pray without ceasing? 1 
 And though all these things may seem to 
 some, who are involved in grosser sins, to be 
 trivial and altogether foreign to sin, yet to 
 those who know the value of perfection a 
 quantity even of very small matters becomes 
 most serious. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 How those who think that they are without sin are like purblind 
 people. 
 
 As if we were to suppose that two men, one 
 of whom was clear sighted with perfect vision, 
 and the other, one whose eyesight was ob- 
 scured by dimness of vision, had together 
 entered some great house that was filled with a 
 quantity of bundles, instruments, and vessels, 
 would not he, whose dullness of vision pre- 
 vented his seeing everything, assert that there 
 was nothing there but chests, beds, benches, 
 tables, and whatever met the fingers of one 
 who felt them rather than the eyes of one who 
 saw them, while on the other hand would not 
 the other, who searched out what was hidden 
 with clear and bright eyes, declare that there 
 were there many most minute articles, and 
 what could scarcely be counted; which if they 
 were ever gathered up into a single pile, 
 would by their number equal or perhaps ex- 
 ceed the size of those few things which the 
 other had felt. So then even saints, and, if 
 we may so say, men who see, whose aim is the 
 utmost perfection, cleverly detect in them- 
 selves even those things which the gaze of our 
 mind being as it were darkened cannot see, 
 and condemn them very severely, to such an ex- 
 tent that those who have not, as it seems to our 
 carelessness, dimmed the whiteness of their 
 body, which is as it were like snow, with even 
 the slightest spot of sin, seem to themselves 
 to be covered with many stains, if, I will not 
 
 1 Cf. i Thess. v. 17. 
 
 say any evil or vain thoughts creep into the 
 doors of their mind, but even the recollection 
 of a Psalm which has to be said takes off the 
 attention of the kneeler at the time for prayer. 
 For if, say they, when we ask some great man, 
 I will not say for our life and salvation, but 
 for some advantage and profit, we fasten all 
 our attention of mind and body upon him, and 
 hang with trembling expectation on his nod, 
 with no slight dread lest haply some foolish 
 or unsuitable word may turn aside the pity of 
 our hearer, and then too, when we are stand- 
 ing in the forum or in the courts of earthly 
 judges, with our opponent standing over 
 against us, if in the midst of the prosecution 
 and trial any coughing, or spitting, or laugh- 
 ing, or yawning, or sleep overtakes us, with 
 what malice will our ever watchful opponent 
 stir up the severity of the judge to our damage : 
 how much more, when we entreat Him who 
 knows all secrets, should we, by reason of our 
 imminent danger of everlasting death, plead 
 with earnest and anxious prayer for the kind- 
 ness of the judge, especially as on the other 
 side there stands one who is both our crafty 
 seducer and our accuser! And not without 
 reason will he be bound by no light sin, but 
 by a grievous fault of wickedness, who, when 
 he pours forth his prayer to God, departs at 
 once from His sight as if from the eyes of one 
 who neither sees nor hears, and follows the 
 vanity of wicked thoughts. But they who 
 cover the eyes of their heart with a thick veil 
 of their sins, and as the Saviour says, " See- 
 ing see not and hearing hear not nor under- 
 stand," 2 hardly regard in the inmost recesses 
 of their breast even those faults which are 
 great and deadly, and cannot with clear eyes 
 look at any deceitful thoughts, nor even those 
 vague and secret desires which strike the 
 mind with slight and subtle suggestions, nor 
 the captivities of their soul, but always wan- 
 dering among impure thoughts they know not 
 how to be sorry when they are distracted from 
 that meditation which is so special, nor can 
 they grieve that they have lost anything as 
 while they lay open their mind to the entrance 
 of any thought as they please, they have no- 
 thing set before them to hold to as the main 
 thing or to desire in every way. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 How those who maintain that a man can be without sin are 
 charged with a twofold error. 
 
 The reason however which drives us into 
 this error is that, as we are utterly ignorant 
 
 s S. Matt. xiii. 13. 
 
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 of the virtue of being without sin, 1 we fancy 
 that we cannot contract any guilt from those 
 idle and random vagaries of our thoughts, but 
 being rendered stupid by dullness and as it were 
 smitten with blindness we can see nothing in 
 ourselves but capital offences, and think that 
 we have only to keep clear of those things 
 which are condemned also by the severity of 
 secular laws, and if we find that even for a 
 short time we are free from these we at once 
 imagine that there is no sin at all in us. 
 Accordingly we are distinguished from the 
 number of those Avho see, because we do not 
 see the many small stains, which are crowded 
 together in us, and are not smitten with sav- 
 ing contrition, if the malady of vexation over- 
 takes our thoughts, nor are we sorry that we 
 are struck by the suggestions of vainglory, 
 nor do we weep over our prayers offered up so 
 tardily and coldly, nor consider it a fault if 
 while we are singing or praying, something 
 else besides the actual prayer or Psalm fills 
 our thoughts, nor are we horrified because we 
 do not blush to conceive many things which 
 we are ashamed to speak or do before men, in 
 our heart, which, as we know, lies open to the 
 Divine gaze; nor do we purge away the pollu- 
 tion of filthy dreams with copious ablutions of 
 our tears, nor grieve that in the pious act of 
 almsgiving when we are assisting the needs 
 of the brethren, or ministering support to the 
 poor, the brightness of our cheerfulness is 
 clouded over by a stingy delay, nor do we 
 think that we are affected by any loss when 
 we forget God and think about things that are 
 temporal and corrupt, so that these words of 
 Solomon fairly apply to us: ''They smite me 
 but I have not grieved, and they have mocked 
 me, but I knew it not. " 2 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 How it is given to but few to understand what sin is. 
 
 Those on the other hand who make the 
 sum of all their joy and delight and bliss con- 
 sist in the contemplation of divine and spir- 
 itual things alone, if they are unwillingly 
 withdrawn from them even for a short time 
 by thoughts that force themselves upon them, 
 punish this as if it were a kind of sacrilege in 
 them, and avenge it by immediate chastise- 
 ment, and in their grief that they have pre- 
 ferred some worthless creature (to which their 
 mental gaze was turned aside) to their Cre- 
 ator, charge themselves with the guilt (I had 
 almost said) of impiety, and although they turn 
 
 1 Anamarteti id est impeccanttz. 2 Prov. xxiii. 35. 
 
 the eyes of their heart with the utmost speed 
 to behold the brightness of the Divine Glory, 
 yet they cannot tolerate even for a very short 
 time the darkness of carnal thoughts, and ex- 
 ecrate whatever keeps back their soul's gaze 
 from the true light. Finally when the blessed 
 Apostle John would instill this feeling into 
 everybody he says: "Little children, love not 
 the world, neither the things which are in the 
 world. If any man love the world, the love 
 of God is not in him : for everything that is 
 in the world is the lust of the flesh and the 
 lust of the eyes and the pride of life, which is 
 not of the Father but of the world. And the 
 world perisheth and the lust thereof: but he 
 that doeth the will of God abideth forever." 8 
 The saints therefore scorn all those things on 
 which the world exists, but it is impossible for 
 them never to be carried away to them by a 
 brief aberration of thoughts, and even now no 
 man, except our Lord and Saviour, can keep 
 his naturally wandering mind always fixed on 
 the contemplation of God so as never to be 
 carried away from it through the love of some- 
 thing in this world ; as Scripture says : " Even 
 the stars are not clean in His sight," and 
 again: "If He puts no trust in His saints, 
 and findeth iniquity in His angels," or as the 
 more correct translation has it: "Behold 
 among His saints none is unchangeable, and 
 the heavens are not pure in His sight." 4 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Of the care with which a monk should preserve the recollection 
 of God. 
 
 I should say then that the saints who keep 
 a firm hold of the recollection of God and are 
 borne along, as it were, with their steps sus- 
 pended on a line stretched out on high, may 
 be rightly compared to rope dancers, com- 
 monly called funambuli, who risk all their 
 safety and life on the path of that very narrow 
 rope, with no doubt that they will immediately 
 meet with a most dreadful death if their foot 
 swerves or trips in the very slightest degree, 
 or goes over the line of the course in which 
 alone is safety. And Avhile with marvel- 
 lous skill they ply their airy steps through 
 space, if they keep not their steps to that all 
 too narrow path with careful and anxious regu- 
 lation, the earth which is the natural base 
 and the most solid and safest foundation for 
 all, becomes to them an immediate and clear 
 danger, not because its nature is changed, but 
 because they fall headlong upon it by the 
 
 3 i John ii. 15-17. 
 
 4 Job xxv. 5 ; xv. 15. 
 
THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS. 
 
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 weight of their bodies. So also that un- 
 wearied goodness of God and His unchanging 
 nature x hurts no one indeed, but we ourselves 
 by falling from on high and tending to the 
 depths are the authors of our own death, or 
 rather the very fall becomes death to the 
 faller. For it says : " Woe to them for they 
 have departed from Me : they shall be wasted 
 because they have transgressed against Me ; " 
 and again: " Woe to them when I shall depart 
 from them." For "thine own wickedness 
 shall reprove thee, and thy apostasy shall re- 
 buke thee. Know thou and see that it is an 
 evil and a bitter thing for thee to have left 
 the Lord thy God;" for "every man is bound 
 by the cords of his sins." 2 To whom this 
 rebuke is aptly directed by the Lord: "Be- 
 hold," He says, "all you that kindle a fire, 
 encompassed with flames, walk ye in the light 
 of your fire and in the flames which you have 
 kindled; " and again: " He that kindleth ini- 
 quity, shall perish by it." 3 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 How those who are on the way to perfection are truly humble, 
 and feel that they always stand in need of God's grace. 
 
 When then holy men feel that they are op- 
 pressed by the weight of earthly thoughts and 
 fall away from their loftiness of mind, and 
 that they are led away against their will or 
 rather without knowing it, into the law of sin 
 and death, and (to pass over other matters) are 
 kept back by those actions which I described 
 above, which are good and right though earthly, 
 from the vision of God; they have something 
 to groan over constantly to the Lord ; they 
 have something for which indeed to humble 
 themselves, and in their contrition to profess 
 themselves not in words only but in heart, 
 sinners; and for this, while they continually 
 ask of the Lord's grace pardon for everything 
 that day by day they commit when overcome 
 by the weakness of the flesh, they should shed 
 without ceasing true tears of penitence ; as they 
 see that being involved even to the very end 
 of their life in the very same troubles, with 
 continual sorrow for which they are tried, they 
 cannot even offer their prayers without ha- 
 rassing thoughts. So then as they know by ex- 
 perience that through the hindrance of the 
 burden of the flesh they cannot by human 
 strength reach the desired end, nor be united 
 according to their heart's desire with that 
 chief and highest good, but that they are led 
 away from the vision of it captive to worldly 
 
 1 Substantia. - Hos. vii. 13; ix. 12; Jer. ii- 19; Prov. v. 22. 
 3 Isa. 1. 11 ; Prov. xix. 9. 
 
 things, they betake themselves to the grace 
 of God, "Who justifieth the ungodly," 4 and 
 cry out with the Apostle: "O wretched man 
 that I am! Who shall deliver me from the 
 body of this death? Thanks be to God 
 through our Lord Jesus Christ." 5 For they 
 feel that they cannot perform the good that 
 they would, but are ever falling into the evil 
 which they would not, and which they hate, 
 i.e., wandering thoughts and care» for carnal 
 things. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Explanation of the phrase : " For I delight in the law of God 
 after the inner man," etc. 
 
 And they "delight" indeed "in the law of 
 God after the inner man," which soars above 
 all visible things and ever strives to be united 
 to God alone, but they " see another law in 
 their members," i.e., implanted in their na- 
 tural human condition, which "resisting the 
 law of their mind," 6 brings their thoughts 
 into captivity to the forcible law of sin, com- 
 pelling them to forsake that chief good and 
 submit to earthly notions, which though they 
 may appear necessary and useful when they 
 are taken up in the interests of some Religious 
 want, yet when they are set against that good 
 which fascinates the gaze of all the saints, 
 are seen by them to be bad and such as should 
 be avoided, because by them in some way or 
 other and for a short time they are drawn away 
 from the joy of that perfect bliss. For the 
 law of sin is really what the fall of its first 
 father brought on mankind by that fault of 
 his, against which there was uttered this sen- 
 tence by the most just Judge : " Cursed is the 
 ground in thy works; thorns and thistles shali 
 it bring forth to thee, and in the sweat of thy 
 brow shalt thou eat bread." 7 This, I say, is 
 the law, implanted in the members of all mor- 
 tals, which resists the law of our mind and 
 keeps it back from the vision of God, and 
 which, as the earth is cursed in our works after 
 the knowledge of good and evil, begins to pro- 
 duce the thorns and thistles of thoughts, by the 
 sharp pricks of which the natural seeds of vir- 
 tues are choked, so that without the sweat of 
 our brow we cannot eat our bread which 
 " cometh down from heaven," and which 
 " strengtheneth man's heart.'' 8 The whole 
 human race in general therefore is without 
 exception subject to this law. For there is 
 no one, however saintly, who does not take the 
 
 * Rom. iv. 5. 
 
 5 Rom. vii. 24, 25. 
 
 6 lb. vii. 22, 23. 
 
 7 Gen. iii. 17, 19. 
 
 8 S. John vi. 33 ; Ps. ciii. (civ.) 15. 
 
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 bread mentioned above with the sweat of his 
 brow and anxious efforts of his heart. But 
 many rich men, as we see, are fed on that 
 common bread without any sweat of their 
 brow. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Of this also : " But we know that the law is spiritual," etc. 
 
 And this law the Apostle also calls spiritual 
 saying : " But we know that the law is spiritual, 
 but I am carnal, sold under sin." 1 For this 
 law is spiritual which bids us eat in the sweat 
 of our brow that "true bread which cometh 
 down from heaven " 2 but that sale under sin 
 makes us carnal. What, I ask, or whose is 
 that sin? Doubtless Adam's, by whose fall, 
 and, if I may so say, ruinous transaction and 
 fraudulent bargain we were sold. For when 
 he was led astray by the persuasion of the ser- 
 pent he brought all his descendants under 
 the yoke of perpetual bondage, as they were 
 alienated by taking the forbidden food. For 
 this custom is generally observed between the 
 buyer and seller, that one who wants to make 
 himself over to the power of another, receives 
 from his buyer a price for the loss of his 
 liberty, and his consignment to perpetual 
 slavery. And we can very plainly see that 
 this took place between Adam and the ser- 
 pent. For by eating of the forbidden tree 
 he received from the serpent the price of his 
 liberty, and gave up his natural freedom 
 and chose to give himself up to perpetual 
 slavery to him from whom he had obtained 
 the deadly price of the forbidden fruit; and 
 thenceforth he was bound by this condition 
 and not without reason subjected all the 
 offspring of his posterity to perpetual service 
 to him whose slave he had become. For 
 what can any marriage in slavery produce but 
 slaves? What then? Did that cunning and 
 crafty buyer take away the rights of owner- 
 ship from the true and lawful lord ? Not so. 
 For neither did he overcome all God's pro- 
 perty by the craft of a single act of deception 
 so that the true lord lost his rights of owner- 
 ship, who though the buyer himself was a 
 rebel and a renegade, yet oppressed him with 
 the yoke of slavery; but because the Creator 
 had endowed all reasonable creatures with 
 free will, he would not restore to their natural 
 liberty against their will those who contrary 
 to right had sold themselves by the sin of 
 greedy lust. Since anything that is contrary 
 to goodness and fairness is abhorrent to Him 
 who is the Author of justice and piety. For 
 
 1 Rom. vii. 14. 
 
 S. John vi. 33. 
 
 it would have been wrong for Him to have 
 recalled the blessing of freedom granted, 
 unfair for Him to have by His power op- 
 pressed man who was free, and by taking him 
 captive, not to have allowed him to exercise 
 the prerogative of the freedom he had received, 
 as He was reserving his salvation for future 
 ages, that in due season the fulness of the 
 appointed time might be fulfilled. For it was 
 right that his offspring should remain under 
 the ancient conditions for so long a time, un- 
 til by the price of His own blood the grace of 
 the Lord redeemed them from their original 
 chains and set them free in the primeval state 
 of liberty, though He was able even then to 
 save them, but would not, because equity 
 forbade Him to break the terms of His own 
 decree. Would you know the reason for your 
 being sold? Hear thy Redeemer Himself 
 proclaiming openly by Isaiah the prophet: 
 "What is this bill of the divorce of your 
 mother with which I have put her away? Or 
 who is My creditor to whom I sold you? 
 Behold you are sold for your iniquities and 
 for your wicked deeds have I put your mother 
 away. " Would you also plainly see why when 
 you were consigned to the yoke of slavery He 
 would not redeem you by the might of His 
 own power? Hear what He added to the 
 former passage, and how He charges the same 
 servants of sin with the reason for their volun- 
 tary sale. " Is My hand shortened and be- 
 come little that I cannot redeem, or is there 
 no strength in Me to deliver? " 3 But what it 
 is which is always standingjn the way of His 
 most powerful pity the same prophet shows 
 when he says : " Behold the hand of the Lord 
 is not shortened that it cannot save, neither 
 is His ear heavy that it cannot hear: But your 
 iniquities have divided between you and your 
 God and your sins have hid His face from 
 you that He should not hear." 4 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Of this also : " But I know that in me, that is in my flesh, 
 dwelleth no good thing." 
 
 Because then the original curse of God 
 has made us carnal and condemned us to 
 thorns and thistles, and our father has sold 
 us by that unhappy bargain so that we can- 
 not do the good that we would, while we are 
 torn away from the recollection of God Most 
 High and forced to think on what belongs to 
 human weakness, while burning with the love 
 of purity, we are often even against our will 
 
 3 Isa. 1. 1, 2. * Isa. lix. 1, 2. 
 
THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS. 
 
 527 
 
 troubled by natural desires, which we would 
 rather know nothing about; we know that in 
 our flesh there dwelleth no good thing 1 viz., 
 the perpetual and lasting peace of this medi- 
 tation of which we have spoken; but there is 
 brought about in our case that miserable and 
 wretched divorce, that when with the mind we 
 want to serve the law of God, since we never 
 want to remove our gaze from the Divine 
 brightness, yet surrounded as we are by car- 
 nal darkness we are forced by a kind of law 
 of sin to tear ourselves away from the good 
 which we know, as we fall away from that 
 lofty height of mind to earthly cares and 
 thoughts, to which the law of sin, i.e., the 
 sentence of God, which the first delinquent 
 received, has not without reason condemned 
 us. And hence it is that the blessed Apostle, 
 though he openly admits that he and all saints 
 are bound by the constraint of this sin, yet 
 boldly asserts that none of them will be con- 
 demned for this, saying: "There is therefore 
 now no condemnation to them that are in 
 Christ Jesus: for the law of the spirit of life 
 in Christ Jesus hath set me free from the law 
 of .sin and death," 2 i.e., the grace of Christ 
 day by day frees all his saints from this law 
 of sin and death, under which they are con- 
 stantly reluctantly obliged to come, whenever 
 they pray to the Lord for the forgiveness of 
 their trespasses. You see then that it was 
 in the person not of sinners but of those who 
 are really saints and perfect, that the blessed 
 Apostle gave utterance to this saying : " For 
 I do not the good that I would, but the evil 
 which I hate, that I do ; " and : " I see another 
 law in my members resisting the law of my 
 mind and bringing me captive to the law of 
 sin which is in my members." 3 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 An objection, that the saying : " For I do not the good that I 
 would," etc., applies to the persons neither of unbelievers 
 nor of saints. 
 
 Germanus : We say that this does not apply 
 to the persons either of those who are involved 
 in capital offences, or of an Apostle and those 
 who have advanced to his measure, but we 
 think that it ought properly to be taken of 
 those who after receiving the grace of God 
 and the knowledge of the truth, are anxious 
 to keep themselves from carnal sins but, as 
 ancient custom like a natural law rules most 
 forcibly in their members, they are carried 
 away to the ingrained lust of their passions. 
 For the custom and frequency of sinning be- 
 
 1 Cf. Rom. 
 
 2 Rom. viii. 1, 2. 3 Rom. vii. 19. 
 
 comes like a natural law, which, implanted 
 in the man's weak members, leads the feel- 
 ings of the soul that is not yet instructed in 
 all the pursuits of virtue, but is still, if I may 
 say so, of an uninstructed and tender chastity, 
 captive to sin and subjecting them by an an- 
 cient law to death, brings them under the yoke 
 of sin that rules over them, not suffering 
 them to obtain the good of purity which they 
 love, but rather forcing them to do the evil 
 which they hate. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The answer to the objection raised. 
 
 Theonas : Your notion does not come to 
 much; as you yourselves have actually now 
 begun to maintain that this cannot possibly 
 stand in the person of those who are out and 
 out sinners, but that it properly applies to 
 those who are trying to keep themselves clear 
 from carnal sins. And since you have already 
 separated these from the number of sinners, 
 it follows that you must shortly admit them 
 into the ranks of the faithful and holy. For 
 what kinds of sin do you say that those can 
 commit, from which, if they are involved in 
 them after the grace of baptism, they can be 
 freed by the daily grace of Christ? or of what 
 body of death are we to think that the Apostle 
 said: "Who shall deliver me from the body 
 of this death? Thanks be to God through 
 Jesus Christ our Lord " ? 4 Is it not clear, as 
 truth compels you yourselves also to admit, 
 that it is spoken not of those members of capi- 
 tal crimes, by which the wages of eternal death 
 are gained; viz., murder, fornication, adultery, 
 drunkenness, thefts and robberies, but of that 
 body before mentioned, which the daily grace 
 of Christ assists? For whoever after baptism 
 and the knowledge of God falls into that 
 death, must know that he will either have 
 to be cleansed, not by the daily grace of 
 Christ, i.e., an easy forgiveness, which our 
 Lord when at any moment He is prayed to, 
 is wont to grant to our errors, but by a life- 
 long affliction of penitence and penal sorrow, 
 or else will be hereafter consigned to the pun- 
 ishment of eternal fire for them, as the same 
 Apostle thus declares: "Be not deceived: 
 neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulter- 
 ers, nor effeminate, nor defilers of themselves 
 with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous per- 
 sons, nor drunkards, nor railers, nor extor- 
 tioners shall possess the kingdom of God." 5 
 Or what is that law warrimr in our members 
 
 4 Rom. vii. 24, 25. 
 
 Cor. 
 
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 which resists the law of our mind, and when 
 it has led us resisting but captives to the law of 
 sin and death, and has made us serve it with 
 the flesh, nevertheless suffers us to serve the 
 law of God with the mind? For I do not 
 suppose that this law of sin denotes crimes or 
 can be taken of the offences mentioned above, 
 of which if a man is guilty he does not serve 
 the law of God with the mind, from which law 
 he must first have departed in heart before he 
 is guilty of any of them with the flesh. For 
 what is it to serve the law of sin, but to 
 do what is commanded by sin? What sort 
 of sin then is it to which so great holiness and 
 perfection feels that it is captive, and yet 
 doubts not that it will be freed from it by the 
 grace of Christ, saying: "O wretched man 
 that I am! Who shall deliver me from the 
 body of this death? Thanks be to God 
 through Jesus Christ our Lord " ? What law, 
 I ask, will you maintain to be implanted in 
 our members, which, withdrawing us from the 
 law of God and bringing us into captivity to 
 the law of sin, could make us wretched rather 
 than guilty so that we should not be consigned 
 to eternal punishment, but still as it were sigh 
 for the unbroken joys of bliss, and, seeking 
 for a helper who shall restore us to it, exclaim 
 with the Apostle : ' O wretched man that I am ! 
 Who shall deliver me from the body of this 
 death?" For what is it to be led captive to 
 the law of sin but to continue to perform and 
 commit sin ? Or what other chief good can be 
 given which the saints cannot fulfil, except 
 that in comparison with which, as we said 
 above, everything else is not good? Indeed 
 we know that many things in this world are 
 good, and chiefly, modesty, continence, so- 
 briety, humility, justice, mercy, temperance, 
 piety: but all of these things fail to come up 
 to that chief good, and can be done I say not 
 by apostles, but even by ordinary folk; and, 
 those by whom they are not done, are either 
 chastised with eternal punishment, or are set 
 free by great exertions, as was said above, of 
 penitence, and not by the daily grace of 
 Christ. It remains then for us to admit that 
 this saying of the Apostle is rightly applied 
 only to the persons of saints, who day after 
 day falling under this law, which we described, 
 of sin not of crimes, are secure of their salva- 
 tion and not precipitated into wicked deeds, 
 but, as has often been said, are drawn away 
 from the contemplation of God to the misery 
 of bodily thoughts, and are often deprived of 
 the blessing of that true bliss. For if they 
 felt that by this law of their members they 
 were bound daily to crimes, they would com- 
 plain of the loss not of happiness but of inno- 
 cence, and the Apostle Paul would not say: 
 
 "O wretched man that I am," but "Impure," 
 or "Wicked man that I am," and he would 
 wish to be rid not of the body of this death, 
 i.e., this mortal state, but of the crimes and 
 misdeeds of this flesh. But because by reason 
 of his state of human frailty he felt that he 
 was captive, i.e., led away to carnal cares 
 and anxieties which the law of sin and death 
 causes, he groans over this law of sin under 
 which against his will he had fallen, and at 
 once has recourse to Christ and is saved by 
 the present redemption of His grace. What- 
 ever of anxiety therefore that law of sin, which 
 naturally produces the thorns and thistles of 
 mortal thoughts and cares, has caused to 
 spring up in the ground of the Apostle's 
 breast, that the law of grace at once plucks 
 up. "For the law," says he, "of the spirit of 
 life in Christ Jesus hath set me free from the 
 law of sin and death." 1 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 What is the body of sin. 
 
 This then is that body of death from which 
 we cannot escape, pent in which those who 
 are perfect, who have tasted "how gracious 
 the Lord is," 2 daily feel with the prophet 
 "how bad for himself and bitter it is for a 
 man to depart from the Lord his God." 3 
 This is the body of death which restrains us 
 from the heavenly vision and drags us back 
 to earthly things, which causes men while 
 singing Psalms and kneeling in prayer to have 
 their thoughts filled with human figures, or 
 conversations, or business, or unnecessary 
 actions. This is the body of death, owing 
 to which those, who would emulate the sanc- 
 tity of angels, and who long to cling contin- 
 ually to God, yet are unable to arrive at the 
 perfection of this good, because the body of 
 death stands in their way, but they do the 
 evil that they would not, i. e., they are dragged 
 down in their minds even to the things which 
 have nothing to do with their advance and 
 perfection in virtue. Finally that the blessed 
 Apostle might clearly denote that he said this 
 of saintly and perfect men, and those like 
 himself, he in a way points with his finger to 
 himself and at once proceeds : " And so I my- 
 self," i.e,' I who say this, lay bare the secrets 
 of my own not another's conscience. This 
 mode of speech at any rate the Apostle is 
 familiarly accustomed to use, whenever he 
 wants to point specially to himself, as here : 
 " I, Paul, myself beseech you by the mildness 
 
 1 Rom. viii. 2. J Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 9. 3 Jer. ii. 19. 
 
THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEONAS. 
 
 529 
 
 and modesty of Christ; " and again: "except 
 that I myself was not burdensome to you ; " 
 and once more : " But be it so: I myself did 
 not burden you;" and elsewhere: "I, Paul, 
 myself say unto you: if ye be circumcised 
 Christ shall profit you nothing; " and to the 
 Romans: "For I could wish that I myself 
 were Anathema from Christ for my brethren. " : 
 But it cannot unreasonably be taken in this 
 way, that ''And so I myself" is expressly 
 said with emphasis, i.e., I whom you know to 
 be an Apostle of Christ, whom you venerate 
 with the utmost respect, whom you believe to 
 be of the highest character and perfect, and 
 one in whom Christ speaks, though with the 
 mind I serve the law of God, yet with the 
 flesh I confess that I serve the law of sin, i.e., 
 by the occupations of my human condition I 
 am sometimes dragged down from heavenly 
 to earthly things and the height of my mind is 
 brought down to the level of care for humble 
 matters. And by this law of sin I find that 
 at every moment I am so taken captive that 
 although I persist in my immovable longing 
 around the law of God, yet in no way can 1 
 escape the power of this captivity, unless I 
 always fly to the grace of the Saviour. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 How all the saints have confessed with truth that they were 
 unclean and sinful. 
 
 And therefore with daily sighs all the saints 
 grieve over this weakness of their nature and 
 while they search into their shifting thoughts 
 and the secrets and inmost recesses of their 
 conscience, cry out in entreaty: "Enter not 
 into judgment with Thy servant, for in Thy 
 sight shall no man living be justified;" and 
 this: " Who will boast that he hath a chaste 
 heart ? or who will have confidence that he is 
 pure from sin?" and again: "There is not 
 a righteous man upon earth that doeth good 
 and sinneth not ; " and this also : " Who know- 
 eth his faults?" 2 And so they have recog- 
 nized that man's righteousness is weak and 
 imperfect and always needs God's mercy, so 
 that one of those whose iniquities and sins 
 God purged away with the live coal of His 
 word sent from the altar, after that marvellous 
 vision of God, after his view of the Seraphim 
 on high and the revelation of heavenly mys- 
 teries, said: "Woe is me! for I am a man of 
 unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a 
 people of unclean lips." 3 And I fancy that 
 
 1 2 Cor. x. 1 ; xii. 13, 16; Gal. v. 2; Rom. ix. 3. 
 
 2 Ps. cxlii. (cxliii.) 2; Prov. xx. 9; Eccl. vii. 
 (xix.) 13. 8 Isa. vi. 5. 
 
 21 ; Ps. xviii. 
 
 perhaps even then he would not have felt the 
 uncleanness of his lips, unless it had been 
 given him to recognize the true and complete 
 purity of perfection by the vision of God, at 
 the sight of Whom he suddenly became aware 
 of his own uncleanness, of which he had pre- 
 viously been ignorant. For when he says : 
 "Woe is me! for I am a man of unclean lips," 
 he shows that his confession that follows 
 refers to his own lips, and not to the unclean- 
 ness of the people: "and I dwell in the midst 
 of a people of unclean lips." But even when 
 in his prayer he confesses the uncleanness of 
 all sinners, he embraces in his general sup- 
 plication not only the mass of the wicked but 
 also of the good, saying: " Behold Thou art 
 angry, and we have sinned : in them we have 
 been always, and we shall be saved. We are 
 all become as one unclean, and all our right- 
 eousnesses as filthy rags." 4 What, I ask, 
 could be clearer than this saying, in which 
 the prophet includes not one only but all cur 
 righteousnesses and, looking round on all 
 things that are considered unclean and disgust- 
 ing, because he could find nothing in the life 
 of men fouler or more unclean, chose to com- 
 pare them to filthy rags. In vain then is the 
 sharpness of a nagging objection raised 
 against this perfectly clear truth, as a little 
 while back you said: "If no one is without 
 sin, then no one is holy; and if no one is holy, 
 then no one will be saved." 5 For the puzzle 
 of this question can be solved by the prophet's 
 testimony. "Behold," he says, "Thou art 
 angry and we have sinned," i.e., when Thou 
 didst reject our pride of heart or our careless- 
 ness, and deprive us of Thine aid, at once the 
 abyss of our sins swallowed us up, as if one 
 should say to the bright substance of the sun : 
 Behold thou hast set, and at once murky dark- 
 ness covered us. And yet though he here 
 says that the saints have sinned, and have 
 not only sinned but also have always remained 
 in their sins, he does not altogether despair 
 of salvation but adds : " In them we have been 
 always, and we shall be saved." This say- 
 ing : " Behold Thou art angry and we have 
 sinned," I will compare to that one of the 
 Apostle's: "O wretched man that I am! 
 Who shall deliver me from the body of this 
 death?" Again this that the prophet sub- 
 joins: "In them we have been always, and 
 we shall be saved," corresponds to the fol- 
 lowing words of the Apostle : " Thanks be to 
 God through Jesus Christ our Ford." In the 
 same way also this passage of the same pro- 
 phet: " Woe is me ! for I am a man of unclean 
 lips and I dwell in the midst of a people of 
 
 * Isa. lxiv. s, 6. 
 
 s Cf. XXII. viii. 
 
53Q 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 unclean lips," seems to agree with the words 
 quoted above : " O wretched man that I am ! 
 Who shall deliver me from the body of this 
 death?" And what follows in the prophet: 
 "And behold there flew to me one of the Se- 
 raphim, having in his hand a coal (or stone) 
 which he had taken with the tongs from off 
 the altar. And he touched my mouth and 
 said: Lo, with this I have touched thy lips, 
 and thine iniquity is taken away and thy sin 
 is purged," x is just what seems to have fallen 
 from the mouth of Paul, who says : " Thanks 
 be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord." 
 You see then how all the saints with truth 
 confess not so much in the person of the 
 people as in their own that they are sinners, 
 and yet by no means despair of their salvation, 
 but look for full justification (which they do 
 not hope that they cannot obtain by virtue of 
 the state of human frailty) from the grace and 
 mercy of the Lord. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 That even good and holy men are not without sin. 
 
 But that no one however holy is in this 
 life free from trespasses and sin, we are told 
 also by the teaching of the Saviour, who gave 
 His disciples the form of the perfect prayer; 
 and among those other sublime and sacred 
 commands, which as they were only given to 
 the saints and perfect cannot apply to the 
 wicked and unbelievers, He bade this to be 
 inserted: "And forgive us our debts as we 
 also forgive our debtors." 2 If then this is 
 offered as a true prayer and by saints, as we 
 ought without the shadow of a doubt to believe, 
 who can be found so obstinate and impudent, 
 so puffed up with the pride of the devil's own 
 rage, as to maintain that he is without sin, 
 and not only to think himself greater than 
 apostles, but also to charge the Saviour 
 Himself with ignorance or folly, as if He 
 either did not know that some men could be 
 free from debts, or was idly teaching those 
 whom He knew to stand in no need of the 
 remedy of that prayer? But since all the 
 saints who altogether keep the commands of 
 their King, say every day " Forgive us our 
 debts," if they speak the truth, there is indeed 
 no one free from sin, but if they speak falsely, 
 it is equally true that they are not free from 
 the sin of falsehood. Wherefore also that 
 most wise Ecclesiastes reviewing in his mind 
 all the actions and purposes of men declares 
 without any exception: "that there is not a 
 
 1 Isa. vi. 6, 7. 
 
 - S. Matt, vi. 12. 
 
 righteous man upon earth, that doeth good 
 and sinneth not," 3 i.e., no one ever could or 
 ever will be found on this earth so holy, so 
 diligent, so earnest as to be able continually 
 to cling to that true and unique good, and not 
 day after day to feel that he is drawn aside 
 from it and fails. But still though he main- 
 tains that he cannot be free from wrong doing, 
 yet none the less we must not deny that he is 
 righteous. 
 
 CHAP'ER XIX. 
 
 How even in the hour of prayer it is almost impossible to 
 avoid sin. 
 
 Whoever then ascribes sinlessness to hu- 
 man nature must fight against no idle words 
 but the witness and proof of his conscience 
 which is on our side, and then only should 
 maintain that he is without sin, when he 
 finds that he is not torn away from this 
 highest good: nay rather, whoever consider- 
 ing his own conscience, to say no more, finds 
 that he has celebrated even one single service 
 without the distraction of a single word or 
 deed or thought, may say that he is without 
 sin. Further because we admit that the dis- 
 cursive lightness of the human mind cannot 
 get rid of these idle and empty things, we thus 
 consequently confess with truth that we are 
 not without sin. For with whatever care a 
 man tries to keep his heart, he can never, 
 owing to the resistance of the nature of the 
 flesh, keep it according to the desire of his 
 spirit. For however far the human mind may 
 have advanced and progressed towards a finer 
 purity of contemplation, so much the more 
 will it see itself to be unclean, as it were in 
 the mirror of its purity, because while the 
 soul raises itself for a loftier vision and as 
 it looks forth yearns for greater things than it 
 performs, it is sure always to despise as infe- 
 rior and worthless the things in which it is 
 mixed up. Since a keener sight notices more ; 
 and a blameless life produces greater sorrow 
 when found fault with; and amendment of life, 
 and earnest striving after goodness multiplies 
 groans and sighs. For no one can rest con- 
 tent with that stage to which he has advanced, 
 and however much a man may be purified in 
 mind, so much the more does he see himself 
 to be foul, and find grounds for humiliation 
 rather than for pride, and, however swiftly 
 he may climb to greater heights, so much 
 more does he see above him whither he is 
 tending. Finally that chosen Apostle "whom 
 Jesus loved," 4 who lay on His bosom, uttered 
 this saying as if from the heart of the Lord: 
 
 3 Eccl. vii. 21. 
 
 4 S. John xiii. 23. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM. 
 
 531 
 
 "If we say that we have no sin we deceive 
 ourselves and the truth is not in us." 1 And 
 so if when we say that we have no sin, we 
 have not the truth, that is Christ, in us, what 
 good do we do except to prove ourselves by 
 this very profession, criminals and wicked 
 among: sinners? 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 From whom we can learn the destruction of sin and perfection 
 of goodness. 
 
 Lastly if you would like to investigate 
 more thoroughly whether it is possible for hu- 
 man nature to attain sinlessness, from whom 
 can we more clearly learn this than from those 
 who "have crucified the flesh with its faults 
 and lusts," and to whom "the world is really 
 crucified " ? 2 Who though they have not only 
 utterly eradicated all faults from their hearts, 
 but also are trying to shut out even the 
 thought and recollection of sin, yet still day 
 after day faithfully maintain that they cannot 
 even for a single hour be free from spot of 
 sin. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 That although we acknowledge that we cannot be without sin, 
 yet still we ought not to suspend ourselves from the Lord's 
 Communion. 
 
 Yet we ought not to suspend ourselves 
 from the Lord's Communion because we con- 
 fess ourselves sinners, but should more and 
 
 more eagerly hasten to it for the healing of 
 our soul, and purifying of our spirit, and seek 
 the rather a remedy for our wounds with hu- 
 mility of mind and faith, as considering our- 
 selves unworthy to receive so great grace. 
 Otherwise we cannot worthily receive the 
 Communion even once a year, as some do, 
 who live in monasteries and so regard the 
 dignity and holiness and value of the heavenly 
 sacraments, as to think that none but saints 
 and spotless persons should venture to receive 
 them, and not rather that they would make 
 us saints and pure by taking them. And these 
 thereby fall into greater presumption and 
 arrogance than what they seem to themselves 
 to avoid, because at the time when they do 
 receive them, they consider that they are 
 worthy to receive them. But it is much 
 better to receive them every Sunday for the 
 healing of our infirmities, with that humility 
 of heart, whereby we believe and confess that 
 we can never touch these holy mysteries 
 worthily, than to be puffed up by a foolish 
 persuasion of heart, and believe that at the 
 year's end we are worthy to receive them. 
 Wherefore that we may be able to grasp this 
 and hold it fruitfully, let us the more ear- 
 nestly implore the Lord's mercy to help us to 
 perform this, which is learnt not like other 
 human arts, by some previous verbal explana- 
 tion, but rather by experience and action 
 leading the way; and which also unless it is 
 often considered and hammered out in the 
 Conferences of spiritual persons, and an- 
 xiously sifted by daily experience and trial of 
 it, will either become obsolete through care- 
 lessness or perish by idle forgetfulness. 
 
 XXIV. 
 CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM. 
 
 ON MORTIFICATION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 How we laid bare the secrets of our thoughts to Abbot 
 Abraham. 
 
 This twenty-fourth Conference of Abbot 
 Abraham 3 is by the favour of Christ produced, 
 which concludes the traditions and decisions 
 of all the Elders ; and when by the aid of your 
 prayers it has been finished, as the number 
 
 1 1 John i. 8. - Gal. v. 24 ; vi. 14. 3 Cf. the note on XV. iv. 
 
 mystically corresponds to that of the four and 
 twenty Elders who are said in the holy Apo- 
 calypse ~ to offer their crowns to the Lamb, 
 we think that we shall have paid the debt of 
 all our promises. And henceforth if these 
 four and twenty Elders of ours have been 
 crowned with any glory for the sake of their 
 teaching, they shall with bowed heads offer it 
 to the Lamb who was slain for the salvation 
 of the world : for He it was Who vouschafed 
 
 4 Rev. iv. 4. 
 
532 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 for the honour of His name to grant to them 
 such exalted feelings and to us whatever 
 words were needful to set forth such profound 
 thoughts. And the merits of His gift must 
 be referred to the Author of all good, to whom 
 the more is owed, as the more is paid. There- 
 fore with anxious confession we laid before 
 this Abraham the impulse of our thoughts, 
 whereby we were urged by daily perplexities 
 of our mind to return to our country and re- 
 visit our kinsfolk. For from this the greatest 
 reason for our desire sprang, because we re- 
 membered that our kinsfolk were endowed 
 with such piety and goodness that we felt sure 
 that they would never interfere with our pur- 
 pose, and we constantly reflected, that we 
 should gain more good out of their earnest- 
 ness, and should be hampered by no cares 
 about bodily matters, and no trouble in pro- 
 viding food, as they would gladly minister 
 abundantly to the supply of all our wants, and 
 besides this we were feeding our souls on the 
 hope of empty joys, as we thought that we 
 should gain the greatest good from the con- 
 version 1 of many, who were to be turned to 
 the way of salvation by our example and in- 
 structions. Then besides this the very spot, 
 where was the ancestral possession of our 
 forefathers, and the delightful pleasantness of 
 the neighbourhood was painted before our 
 eyes, how pleasantly and suitably it stretched 
 away to the desert, so that the recesses of the 
 woods would not only delight the heart of 
 a monk, but would also furnish him with a 
 plentiful supply of food. 2 And when we ex- 
 plained all this to the aforesaid old man, in 
 a straightforward way, according to the faith 
 of our consience, and showed by our copious 
 tears that we could no longer resist the vio- 
 lence of the impulse, unless the grace of God 
 came to our rescue by the healing which he 
 could give, he waited for a long time in silence 
 and at last sighed deeply and said: 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 How the old man exposed our errors. 
 
 The feebleness of your ideas shows that 
 you have not yet renounced worldly desires 
 nor mortified your former lusts. For as the 
 wandering character of your desires testifies 
 to the sloth of your heart, this pilgrimage and 
 absence from your kinsfolk, which you ought 
 rather to endure with your heart, you do en- 
 dure only with the flesh. For all these things 
 
 1 Petschenig's text reads conversione, others conversatione. 
 
 2 On the bearing of this passage on the question of Cassian's 
 nationality see the Introd., p. 1S3. 
 
 would have been buried and altogether driven 
 out of your hearts, if you had got hold of the 
 right method of renunciation, and the main 
 reason for the solitude in which we dwell. 
 And so I see that you are labouring under 
 that infirmity of sluggishness, which is thus 
 described in Proverbs : " Every sluggard is 
 always desiring something;" and again: 
 "Desires kill the slothful." 3 For in our case 
 too these supplies of worldly conveniences, 
 which you have described, would not be want- 
 ing, if we believed that they were appropriate 
 to our calling, or thought that we could get 
 out of those delights and pleasures as much 
 profit as that which is gained from this squalor 
 of the country and bodily affliction. Nor are 
 we so deprived of the solace of our kinsfolk, 
 that those who delight to support us with their 
 substance should fail us, were it not that this 
 saying of the Saviour meets us and excludes 
 everything that contributes to the support of 
 this flesh, as He says: "He who doth not 
 leave (or hate) father and mother and child- 
 ren and brethren cannot be My disciple." 4 
 But if we were altogether deprived of the pro- 
 tection of our parents, the services of the 
 princes of this world would not be wanting, 
 as they would most thankfully rejoice to 
 minister to our necessities with prompt liber- 
 ality. And supported by their bounty, we 
 should be free from the care of preparing 
 food, were it not that this curse of the prophet 
 terribly frightened us. For "Cursed," he 
 says, "is the man that putteth his hope in 
 .man;" and: " Put not your trust in princes." 5 
 We should also at any rate place our cells on 
 the banks of the river Nile and have water 
 at our very doors, so as not to be obliged 
 to carry it on our necks for four miles, were it 
 not that the blessed Apostle rendered us inde- 
 fatigable in enduring this labour, and cheered 
 us by his words, saying: "Every one shall re- 
 ceive his own reward according to his labour. " G 
 Nor are we ignorant that there are even in our 
 country some pleasant recesses, where plenty 
 of fruits, and pleasant gardens, and fertile 
 ground would furnish the food we need with 
 the slightest bodily efforts on our part, were it 
 not that we were afraid lest that reproach might 
 apply to us, which is directed against the rich 
 man in the gospel : " Because thou hast received 
 thy consolation in this life." 7 But as we des- 
 pise all these things and scorn them together 
 with all the pleasures of this world, we delight 
 only in this squalor, and prefer to all luxuries 
 this dreadful and vast desert, and cannot 
 compare any riches of a fertile soil to these 
 
 3 Prov. xiii. 4 ; xxi. 25. 
 
 4 S. Luke xiv. 26. 
 
 5 Jer. xvii. 5 ; Ps. cxlv. (cxlvi.) 2. 
 
 6 1 Cor. iii. 8. 
 
 7 S. Luke xvi. 25. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM. 
 
 barren sands, as we pursue no temporal gains 
 of this body, but the eternal rewards of the 
 spirit. For it is but little for a monk to have 
 once made his renunciation, i.e., in the early 
 days of his conversion to have disregarded the 
 present world, unless he continues to renounce 
 it daily. For to the very end of this life we 
 must with the prophet say this: "And I have 
 not desired the day of man, Thou knowest." l 
 Wherefore also the Lord says in the gospel : 
 "If any man will come after Me, let him 
 deny himself and take up his cross daily and 
 follow Me." 2 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Of the character of the districts which anchorites ought to 
 seek. 
 
 And therefore by him who is exercising 
 anxious care over the purity of his inner man, 
 those districts should be sought, which do not 
 by their fruitfulness and fertility invite his 
 mind to the trouble of cultivating them, nor 
 drive him forth from his fixed and immovable 
 position in his cell, and force him to go forth 
 to some work in the open air, and so, his 
 thoughts being as it were poured forth openly, 
 scatter to the winds all his concentration of 
 mind and all the keenness of his vision of his 
 aim. And this cannot be guarded against or 
 seen by anyone at all however careful and 
 watchful, except one who continually keeps 
 his body and soul shut up and enclosed in 
 walls, that, like a splendid fisherman, looking 
 out for food for himself by the apostolic art, 
 he may eagerly and without moving catch the 
 swarms of thoughts swimming in the calm 
 depths of his heart, and surveying with cu- 
 rious eye the depths as from a high rock, may 
 sagaciously and cunningly decide what he 
 ought to lure to himself by his saving hook, 
 and what he can neglect and reject as bad and 
 nasty fishes. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 What sorts of work should be chosen by solitaries. 
 
 Everyone therefore who constantly perse- 
 veres in this watchfulness will effectually ful- 
 fil what is very plainly expressed by the 
 prophet Habakkuk: "I will stand upon my 
 watch, and ascend upon the rock, and will 
 look out to see what He shall say to me, and 
 what I may answer to Him that reproveth 
 me." 3 And how difficult and tiresome this is, 
 is very clearly shown by the experience of those 
 who live in the desert of Calamus or Porphy- 
 
 1 Jer. xvii. 16. 2 S. Luke ix. 23. <» Hab. ii. 1. (LXX.). 
 
 rion. 4 For though they are separated from 
 all the cities and dwellings of men by a longer 
 stretch of desert than the wilderness of Scete 
 (since by penetrating seven or eight days' 
 journey into the recesses of the vast wilder- 
 ness, they scarcely arrive at their hiding places 
 and cells) yet because there they are devoted 
 to agriculture and not in the least confined to 
 the cloister, whenever they come to these 
 squalid districts in which we are living, or to 
 Scete, they are annoyed by such harassing 
 thoughts and such anxiety of mind that, as if 
 they were beginners and men who had never 
 given the slightest attention to the exercises 
 of solitude, they cannot endure the life of the 
 cells and the peace and quietness of them, 
 and are at once driven forth and obliged to 
 leave them, as if they were inexperienced and 
 novices. For they have not learnt to still the 
 motions of the inner man, and to quell the 
 tempests of their thoughts by anxious care and 
 persevering efforts, as, toiling day after day 
 in work in the open air, they are moving about 
 all day long in empty space, not only in the 
 flesh but also in heart; and pour forth their 
 thoughts openly as the body moves hither and 
 thither. And therefore they do not notice the 
 folly of their mind in longing for many things, 
 nor can they put a check upon its vague dis- 
 cursiveness ; and as they cannot bear sorrow 
 of spirit they think that the fact of a continu- 
 ance of silence is unendurable, and those who 
 are never tired by hard work in the country, 
 are beaten by silence and worn out by the 
 length of their rest. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 That anxiety of heart is made worse rather than better by 
 restlessness of body. 
 
 Nor is it wonderful if one who lives in a 
 cell, having his thoughts collected together as 
 it were in a narrow cloister, is oppressed by a 
 multitude of anxieties, which break out with 
 the man himself from the confinement of the 
 dwelling, and at once dash here and there like 
 wild horses. But while they are now roaming 
 at large from their stalls, for the moment 
 some short and sad solace is enjoyed: but 
 when, after the body has returned to its own 
 cell, the whole troop of thoughts retires again 
 to its proper home, the habit of chronic licence 
 gives rise to worse pangs. Those then who 
 are unable and ignorant how to struggle 
 against the promptings of their own fancies, 
 when they are harassed in their cell, by 
 accidie attacking their bosom more violently 
 
 * Cf. Institutes X. xxiv. 
 
534 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 than usual, if they relax their strict rule and 
 allow themselves the liberty of going out 
 oftener, will arouse a worse plague against 
 themselves by means of this which they fancy 
 is a remedy: just as men fancy that they can 
 check the violence of an inward fever by a 
 draught of the coldest water, though it is a 
 fact that by it its fire is inflamed rather than 
 quenched, as a far worse attack follows after 
 the momentary alleviation. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A comparison showing how a monk ought to keep guard over 
 his thoughts. 
 
 Wherefore a monk's whole attention 
 should thus be fixed on one point, and the 
 rise and circle of all his thoughts be vigor- 
 ously restricted to it; viz., to the recollection 
 of God, as when a man, who is anxious to 
 raise on high a vault of a round arch, must 
 constantly draw a line round from its exact 
 centre, and in accordance with the sure stand- 
 ard it gives discover by the laws of building 
 all the evenness and roundness required. But 
 if anyone tries to finish it without ascertain- 
 ing its centre- — though with the utmost confi- 
 dence in his art and ability, it is impossible 
 for him to keep the circumference even, with- 
 out any error, or to find out simply by looking 
 at it how much he has taken off by his mistake 
 from the beauty of real roundness, unless he 
 always has -recourse to that test of truth and 
 by its decision corrects the inner and outer 
 edge of his work, and so finishes the large 
 and lofty pile to the exact point. 1 So also 
 our mind, unless by working round the love 
 of the Lord alone as an immovably fixed 
 centre, through all the circumstances of our 
 works and contrivances, it either fits or rejects 
 the character of all our thoughts by the excel- 
 lent compasses, if I may so say, of love, 
 will never by excellent skill build up the 
 structure of that spiritual edifice of which 
 Paul is the architect, nor possess that beauti- 
 ful house, which the blessed David desired 
 in his heart to show to the Lord and said : " I 
 have loved the beauty of Thine house and the 
 place of the dwelling of Thy glory;" 2 but 
 will without foresight raise in his heart a 
 house that is not beautiful, and that is un- 
 worthy of the Holy Ghost, one that will pres- 
 ently fall, and so will receive no glory from 
 the reception of the blessed Inhabitant, but 
 will be miserably destroyed by the fall of his 
 building. 
 
 1 Unius pu?ictilege. 
 
 Ps. xxv. (xxvi.) S. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A question why the neighbourhood of our kinsfolk is considered 
 to interfere with us, whereas it does not interfere in the case 
 of those living in Egypt. 
 
 Germanus : It is a very useful and needful 
 rule that is given for the kind of works that 
 can be done within the cells. For we have 
 often proved the value of this not only by the 
 example of your holiness, based on the imita- 
 tion of the virtues of the apostles, but also by 
 our own experience. But it is not sufficiently 
 clear why we ought so thoroughly to avoid the 
 neighbourhood of our kinsfolk, which you did 
 not reject altogether. For if we see you, 
 blamelessly walking in all the Avay of perfec- 
 tion, and not only dwelling in your own 
 country but some of you having not even re- 
 tired far from their own village, why should 
 that which does not hurt you be considered 
 bad for us ? 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The answer that all things are not suitable for all men. 
 
 Abraham : Sometimes we see bad prece- 
 dents taken from good things. For if a man 
 ventures to do the same thing as another, but 
 not with the same mind and purpose, or not 
 with equal goodness, he will immediately fall 
 into the snares of deception and death through 
 the very things from which others gain the 
 fruit of eternal life : As that strong armed lad 
 matched with the warlike giant in the combat 
 would certainly have found, if he had been 
 clad in the heavy armour of Saul fit only for 
 men ; and that by which one of stronger age 
 would have laid low countless hosts of foes, 
 would only have brought certain danger to the 
 stripling, had he not with prudent discretion 
 chosen the sort of weapons suitable to his 
 youth, and armed himself against his foul foe 
 not with breastplate and shield, with which 
 he saw that others were equipped, but with 
 those weapons with which he was able to 
 fight. Wherefore it is right for each one of 
 us first to consider carefully the measure of 
 his powers and in accordance with its limits, 
 to choose what system he pleases, because 
 though all are good, yet all things cannot be 
 fit for all men. For we do not assert that be- 
 cause the anchorite's life is good, it is there- 
 fore suited for everybody: for by many it is 
 felt to be not only useless, but even injurious. 
 Xor because we are right in taking up the 
 system of the coenobium and the pious and 
 praiseworthy care of the brethren, do we there- 
 fore consider that it ought to be followed by 
 everybody. So also the fruits of the care of 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM. 
 
 535 
 
 strangers are very plentiful, but this cannot be 
 taken up by everybody without loss of pa- 
 tience. Further, the systems of your country 
 and of this must first be weighed against each 
 other; and then the powers of men gathered 
 from the constant occurrence of their virtues 
 or vices must be severally weighed in the op- 
 posite scales. For it may happen that what 
 is difficult or impossible for a man of one 
 nation in the case of others is somehow 
 turned by ingrained habit into nature : just as 
 some nations, separated by a wide difference 
 of region, can bear tremendous force of cold 
 or heat of the sun without any covering of the 
 body, which certainly others who have no ex- 
 perience of that inclement sky, could not pos- 
 sibly endure, however strong they may be. 
 So also do you who with the utmost efforts of 
 mind and body are trying in this district to 
 get the better of the nature of your country in 
 many respects, diligently consider whether 
 in those regions which, as report says, are 
 frozen, and bound by the cold of excessive 
 unbelief, you could endure this nakedness, if 
 I may so term it. For to us the fact that our 
 holy life is of long standing has almost natu- 
 rally imparted this fortitude in our purpose, 
 and if we see that you are our equals in virtue 
 and constancy, you in like manner need not 
 shun the neighbourhood of your kinsfolk and 
 brethren. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 That those need not fear the neighbourhood of their kinsfolk, 
 who can emulate the mortification of Abbot Apollos. 
 
 But that you may be able fairly to measure 
 the amount of your strength by a certain test 
 of strictness I will point out to you what 
 was done by a certain old man; viz., Abbot 
 Apollos x that if your secret scrutiny of your 
 heart decides that you are not behind this 
 man in purpose and goodness, you may ven- 
 ture on remaining in your country and living 
 near your kinsfolk without detriment to your 
 purpose or injury to your mode of life, and be 
 sure that neither the feeling of nearness nor 
 your love for the district can interfere with 
 the strictness of this humble lot, 2 which not 
 only your own will but the needs also of your 
 pilgrimage enforce upon you in this country. 
 When then his own brother had come to this 
 old man, whom we have mentioned, in the 
 dead of night, begging him to come out for a 
 little while from his monastery, to help him 
 to rescue an ox, which as he sadly complained 
 had stuck in the mire of a swamp a little way 
 off, because he could not possibly rescue it 
 
 1 Cf. the note on II. xiii. 
 
 2 Cf. the note on XIX. iii. 
 
 alone, Abbot Apollos stolidly replied to his 
 entreaties : " Why did you not ask our younger 
 brother who was nearer to you as you passed 
 by than I ? " and when the other, thinking that 
 he had forgotten the death of his brother who 
 had been long ago buried, and that he was 
 almost weak in his mind from excessive abstin- 
 ence and continual solitude, replied: "How 
 could I summon one who died fifteen years 
 ago ? " Abbot Apollos said : " Don't you know 
 that I too have been dead to this world for 
 twenty years, and that I can't from my tomb 
 in this cell give you any assistance in what 
 belongs to the affairs of this present life? 
 And Christ is so far from allowing me ever so 
 little to relax my purpose of mortification on 
 which I have entered, for extricating your ox, 
 that He did not even permit the very shortest 
 intermission of it for my father's funeral, 
 which would have been undertaken much more 
 readily properly and piously. " And so do ye 
 now search out the secrets of your breast and 
 carefully consider whether you also can con- 
 tinually preserve such strictness of mind with 
 regard to your kinsfolk, and when you find 
 that you are like him in this mortification of 
 soul, then at last you may know that in the 
 same way the neighbourhood of your kinsfolk 
 and brothers will not hurt you, when, I mean, 
 you hold that though they are very close to 
 you, you are dead to them, in such a way 
 that you suffer neither them to be benefited 
 by your assistance, nor yourselves to be re- 
 laxed by duties towards them. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A question whether it is bad for a monk to have his wants 
 supplied by his kinsfolk. 
 
 Germanus: On this subject you have cer- 
 tainly left no room for any further uncertainty. 
 ! For we are sure that we cannot possibly keep 
 ! up our present wretched garb, or our daily go- 
 ing barefoot in their neighbourhood, and that 
 there we should not even procure with the 
 same labour what is necessary for our suste- 
 nance, as here we are actually obliged to 
 ' fetch our water on our necks for three miles. 
 For shame on our part as well as on theirs 
 i would not in the least allow us to do this be- 
 j fore them. However how will it hurt our plan 
 ■ of life if we are altogether set free from anxiety 
 on the score of preparing our food, by being 
 supplied by them with all things, and so give 
 ourselves up simply to reading and prayer, 
 that by the removal of that labour with which 
 we are now distracted we may devote our- 
 selves more earnestly to spiritual interests 
 i alone? 
 
536 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The answer stating what Saint Antony laid down on this 
 matter. 
 
 Abraham : I will not give you my own 
 opinion against this, but that of the blessed 
 Antony, whereby he confounded the laziness 
 of a certain brother (overcome by this luke- 
 warmness which you describe) in such a way 
 as also to cut the knot of your subject. For 
 when one came as I said to the aforesaid old 
 man, and said that the Anchorite system was 
 not at all to be admired, declaring that it 
 required greater virtue for a man to practise 
 what belongs to perfection living among men 
 rather than in the desert, the blessed Antony 
 asked where he lived himself, and when he 
 said that he lived close to his relations, and 
 boasted that by their provision he was set free 
 from all care and anxiety of daily work, and 
 gave himself up ceaselessly and solely to read- 
 ing and prayer without any distraction of 
 spirit, once more the blessed Antony said: 
 "Tell me, my good friend, whether you grieve 
 with their griefs and misfortunes, and in the 
 same way rejoice in their good fortune ? " He 
 confessed that he shared in them both. To 
 whom the old man: "You should know," said 
 he, "that in the world to come also you will 
 be judged in the lot of those with whom in 
 this life you have been affected by sharing in 
 their gain or loss, or joy or sorrow." And 
 not satisfied with this statement the blessed 
 Antony entered on a still wider field of dis- 
 cussion, saying: "This mode of life and this 
 most lukewarm condition not only strike you 
 with that damage of which I spoke (though 
 you do not feel it now, when somehow you 
 say in accordance with that saying in Proverbs : 
 'They strike me but I am not grieved : and 
 they mocked me but I knew it not; ' or this 
 that is said in the Prophet: 'And strangers 
 have devoured his strength, but he himself 
 knew it not' 1 ), because day after day they 
 ceaselessly drag down your mind to earthly 
 things, and change it in accordance with the 
 variations of chance; but also because they 
 defraud you of the fruits of your hands and 
 the due reward of your own exertions, as they 
 do not suffer you to be supported by what these 
 supply, or to procure your daily food for your- 
 self with your own hands, according to the rule 
 of the blessed Apostle, as he when giving his 
 last charge to the heads of the Church of 
 Ephesus, asserts that though he was occupied 
 with the sacred duties of preaching the gos- 
 pel yet he provided not only for himself, but 
 
 1 Prov. xxiii. 35 (LXX.); Hos. vii. 9. 
 
 also for those who were prevented by neces- 
 sary duties with regard to his ministry, say- 
 ing: ' Ye yourselves know that these hands 
 have ministered to my necessities and to the 
 necessities of those who were with me. ' But 
 to show that he did this as a pattern to be 
 useful to us he says elsewhere: 'We were not 
 idle among you; neither did we eat any man's 
 bread for nothing, but in labour and in toil we 
 worked night and day lest we should be char- 
 geable to any of you. Not as if we had not 
 power; but that we might give ourselves a 
 pattern unto you, to imitate us." 2 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Of the value of work and the harm of idleness. 
 
 And so though we also might have the pro- 
 tection of our kinsfolk, yet we have preferred 
 this abstinence to all riches, and have chosen 
 to procure our daily bodily sustenance by our 
 own exertions rather than rely on the sure 
 provision made by our relations, having less in- 
 clination for idle meditation on holy Scripture 
 of which you have spoken, and that fruit- 
 less attendance to reading than to this labor- 
 ious poverty. And certainly we should most 
 gladly pursue the former, if the authority of 
 the apostles had taught us by their examples 
 that it was better for us, or the rules of the 
 Elders had laid it down for our good. But 
 you must know that you are affected by this 
 no less than by that harm of which I spoke 
 above, because though your body may be sound 
 and lusty, yet you are supported by another's 
 contributions, a thing which properly belongs 
 only to the feeble. For certainly the whole 
 human race, except only that class of monks, 
 who live in accordance with the Apostle's 
 command by the daily labours of their own 
 hands, looks for the charity of another's com- 
 passion. Wherefore it is clear that not only 
 those who boast that they themselves are sup- 
 ported either by the wealth of their relations 
 or the labours of their servants or the produce 
 of their farms, but also the kings of this world 
 are supported by charity. This at any rate is 
 embraced in the definition of our predeces- 
 sors, who have laid down that anything that 
 is taken for the requirements of daily food 
 which has not been procured and prepared by 
 the labour of our own hands, ought to be re- 
 ferred toj charity, as the Apostle teaches, who 
 altogether forbids the help of another's bounty 
 to the idle and says: "If a man does not 
 work, neither let him eat." 3 These words 
 
 2 Acts xx. 34; 2 Thess. iii. 7, 9. 
 
 3 2 Thess. iii. 10. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM. 
 
 537 
 
 the blessed Antony used against some one, and 
 instructed us also by the example of his teach- 
 ing, to shun the pernicious allurements of our 
 relations and of all who provide the needful 
 charity for our food as well as the delights of 
 a pleasant home, and to prefer to all the 
 wealth of this world sandy wastes horrid with 
 the barrenness of nature, and districts over- 
 whelmed by living incrustations, and for that 
 reason subject to no control or dominion of 
 man, so that we should not only avoid the 
 society of men for the sake of a pathless 
 waste, but also that the character of a fruitful 
 soil may never entice us to the distractions of 
 cultivating it, whereby the mind would be re- 
 called from the chief service of the heart, and 
 rendered useless for spiritual aims. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A story of a barber"s payments, introduced for the sake of 
 recognizing the devil's illusions. 
 
 For as you hope that you can save others 
 also, and are eager to return to your country 
 with the hope of greater gain, hear also on this 
 subject a story of Abbot Macarius, very neatly 
 and prettily invented, which he also gave to a 
 man in a tumult of similar desires, to cure 
 him by a most appropriate story. "There 
 was," said he, " in a certain city a very clever 
 barber, who used to shave everybody for three 
 pence and by getting this poor and wretched 
 sum for his work, out of this same amount used 
 to procure what was required for his daily 
 food, and after having taken all care of his 
 body, used every day to put a hundred pence 
 into his pocket. But while he was diligently 
 amassing this gain, he heard that in a city a 
 long way off each man paid the barber a shil- 
 ling as his pay. And when he found this out, 
 ' how long,' said he, 'shall I be satisfied with 
 this beggary, so as to get with my labour a 
 pay of three pence, when by going thither I 
 might amass riches by a large gain of shil- 
 lings? ' And so at once taking with him the 
 implements of his art, and using up in the ex- 
 pense all that he had got together and saved 
 during a long time, he made his way with 
 great difficulty to that most lucrative city. 
 And there on the day of his arrival, he re- 
 ceived from everyone the pay for his labour in 
 accordance with what he had heard, and at 
 eventide seeing that he had gained a large 
 number of shillings he went in delight to the 
 butcher's to buy the food he wanted for his 
 supper. And when he began to purchase it 
 for a large sum of shillings he spent on a 
 
 tiny bit of meat all the shillings that he had 
 gained, and did not take home a surplus of 
 even a single penny. And when he saw that 
 his gains were thus used up every day so that 
 he not only failed to put by anything but could 
 scarcely get what he required for his daily 
 food, he thought over the matter with himself 
 and said: 'I will go back to my city, and once 
 more seek those very moderate profits, from 
 which, when all my bodily wants were satis- 
 fied, a daily surplus gave a growing sum to 
 support my old age ; which, though it seemed 
 small and trifling, yet by being constantly 
 increased was amounting to no slight sum. In 
 fact that gain of coppers was more profitable 
 to me than is this nominal one of shillings 
 from which not only is there nothing over to 
 be laid by, but the necessities of my daily 
 food are scarcely met. ' " And therefore it 
 is better for us with unbroken continuance 
 to aim at this very slender profit in the desert, 
 from which no secular cares, no worldly 
 distractions, no pride of vainglory and vanity 
 can detract, and which the pressure of no 
 daily wants can lessen (for " a small thing 
 that the righteous hath is better than great 
 riches of the ungodly " x ) rather than to pursue 
 those larger profits which even if they are 
 procured by the most valuable conversion of 
 many, are yet absorbed by the claims of secu- 
 lar life and the daily leakage of distractions. 
 For, as Solomon says, " Better is a single 
 handful with rest than both hands full with 
 labour and vexation of mind." 2 And in these 
 allusions and inconveniences all that are at all 
 weak are sure to be entangled, as while they 
 are even doubtful of their own salvation, and 
 themselves stand in need of the teaching and 
 instruction of others, they are incited by the 
 devil's tricks to convert and guide others, 
 and as, even if they succeed in gaining any 
 advantage from the conversion of some, they 
 waste by their impatience and rude manners 
 whatever they have gained. For that will 
 happen to them which is described by the 
 prophet Haggai: "And he that gathereth 
 riches, putteth them into a bag with holes.'" 3 
 For indeed a man puts his gains into a bag 
 with holes, if he loses by want of self con- 
 trol and daily distractions of mind whatever he 
 appears to gain by the conversion of others. 
 And so it results that while they fancy that 
 they can make larger, profits by the instruction 
 of others, they are actually deprived of their 
 own improvement. For " There are who 
 make themselves out rich though possessing 
 nothing, and there are who humble them- 
 selves amid great riches; " and: " Better is a 
 
 1 Ps. xxxvi. (xxxvii.) 16. - Eccl. iv. 6. 3 Hag. i. 6. 
 
CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 man who serves himself in a humble station 
 than one who gains honour for himself and 
 wanteth bread." x 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A question how such wrong notions can creep into us. 
 
 Germanus : Very aptly has your discussion 
 shown the error of these illusions by this il- 
 lustration: but we should like in the same 
 way to be taught its origin and how to cure it, 
 and we are equally anxious to learn how this 
 deception has taken hold of us. For every- 
 body must see that no one at all can apply 
 remedies to ill health except one who has 
 already diagnosed the actual origin of the 
 disease. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The answer on the threefold movement of the soul. 
 
 Abraham-: Of all faults there is one source 
 and origin, but different names are assigned 
 to the passions and corruptions in accord- 
 ance with the character of that part, or mem- 
 ber, if I may so call it, which has been 
 injuriously affected in the soul : As is some- 
 times also shown by the case of bodily dis- 
 eases, in which though the cause is one and the 
 same, yet there is a division into different 
 kinds of maladies in accordance with the 
 nature of the member affected. For when the 
 violence of a noxious moisture has seized on 
 the body's citadel, i.e., the head, it brings 
 about a feeling of headache, but when it 
 affects the ears or eyes, it passes into the 
 malady of earache or ophthalmia: when it 
 spreads to the joints and the extremities of 
 the hands it is called the gout in the joints or 
 hands ; but when it descends to the extremities 
 of the feet, its name is changed and it is 
 termed podagra: and the noxious moisture 
 which is originally one and the same is 
 described by as many names as there are se- 
 parate members which it affects. In the same 
 way to pass from visible to invisible things, 
 we should hold that the tendency to each fault 
 exists in the parts and, if I may use the ex- 
 pression, members of our soul. And, as some 
 very wise men have laid down that its powers 
 are threefold, either what is Ac/ufor, i.e., rea- 
 sonable, or duuixuv, i.e., irascible, or im 
 dvuj\nxb 1 ', i.e., subject to desire, is sure to 
 be troubled by some assault. When then the 
 force of noxious passion takes possession 
 of anyone by reason of these feelings, the 
 
 1 Prov. xiii. 7 ; xii. 9. 
 
 name of the fault is given to it in accordance 
 with the part affected. For if the plague of 
 sin has infested its rational parts, it will 
 produce the sins of vainglory, conceit, envy, 
 pride, presumption, strife, heresy. If it has 
 wounded the irascible feelings, it will give 
 birth to rage, impatience, sulkiness, accidie, 
 pusillanimity and cruelty. If it has affected 
 that part which is subject to desire, it will be 
 the parent of gluttony, fornication, covet- 
 ousness, avarice, and noxious and earthly 
 desires. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 That the rational part of our soul is corrupt. 
 
 And therefore if you want to discover the 
 source and origin of this fault, you must 
 recognize that the rational part of your mind 
 and soul is corrupt, that part namely from 
 which the faults of presumption and vainglory 
 for the most part spring. Further this first 
 member, so to speak, of your soul must be 
 healed by the judgment of a right discretion 
 and the virtue of humility, as when it is 
 injured, while you fancy that you can not 
 only still scale the heights of perfection but 
 actually teach others, and hold that you are 
 capable and sufficient to instruct others, 
 through the pride of vainglory you are carried 
 away by these vain rovings, which your con- 
 fession discloses. And these you will then 
 be able to get rid of without difficulty, if you 
 are established as I said in the humility of 
 true discretion and learn with sorrow of heart 
 how hard and difficult a thing it is for each of 
 us to save his soul, and admit with the inmost 
 feelings of your heart that you are not only 
 far removed from that pride of teaching, but 
 that you are actually still in need of the help 
 of a teacher. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 How the weaker part of the soul is the first to yield to the 
 devil's temptations. 
 
 You should then apply to this member or 
 part of the soul which we have described as 
 particularly wounded, the remedy of true 
 humility: for as, so far as appears, it is 
 weaker than the other powers of the soul in 
 you, it is sure to be the first to yield to the 
 assaults of the devil. As when some injuries 
 come upon us, which are caused either by toil 
 laid upon us or by a bad atmosphere, it is 
 generally the case in the bodies of men that 
 those which are the weaker are the first to 
 give in and yield to those chances, and when 
 the disease has more particularly laid hold 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM. 
 
 539 
 
 of them, it affects the sound parts of the body 
 also with the same mischief, so also, when 
 the pestilent blast of sin breathes over us 
 the soul of each one of us is sure to be 
 tempted above all by that passion, in the case 
 of which its feebler and weaker portion does 
 not make so stubborn a resistance to the pow- 
 erful attacks of the foe, and to run the risk of 
 being taken captive by those, in the case of 
 which a careless watch opens an easier way 
 to betrayal. For so Balaam x gathered that 
 God's people could be by a sure method 
 deceived, when he advised, that in that quar- 
 ter, wherein he knew that the children of 
 Israel were weak, the dangerous snares should 
 be set for them, as he had no doubt that when 
 a supply of women was offered to them, they 
 would at once fall and be destroyed by forni- 
 cation, because he was aware that the parts of 
 their souls which were subject to desire were 
 corrupted. So then the spiritual wicked- 
 nesses tempt with crafty malice each one of 
 us, by particularly laying insidious snares for 
 those affections of the soul, in which they 
 have seen that it is weak, as for instance, if 
 they see that the reasonable parts of our soul 
 are affected, they try to deceive us in the 
 same way that the Scripture tells us that king 
 Ahab was deceived by those Syrians, who 
 said: "We know that the kings of Israel are 
 merciful : And so let us put sackcloth upon 
 our loins, and ropes round our heads, and go 
 out to the king of Israel, and say to him : 
 Thy servant Benhadad saith : I pray thee, let 
 my soul live." And thereby he was affected 
 by no true goodness, but by the empty praise 
 of his clemency, and said: " If he still liveth, 
 he is my brother; " and after this fashion they 
 can deceive us also by the error of that rea- 
 sonable part, and make us incur the displeas- 
 ure of God owing to that from which we were 
 hoping that we might gain a reward and re- 
 ceive the recompense of goodness, and to us 
 too the same rebuke may be addressed : " Be- 
 cause thou hast let go from thy hand a man 
 who was worthy of death, thy life shall be for 
 his life, and thy people for his people." 2 Or 
 when the unclean spirit says : " I will go forth, 
 and will be a lying spirit in the mouth of all 
 his prophets," 3 he certainly spread the nets 
 of deception by means of the reasonable feel- 
 ing which he knew to be exposed to his deadly 
 wiles. And this also the same spirit expected 
 in the case of our Lord, when he tempted 
 Him in these three affections of the soul, 
 wherein he knew that all mankind had been 
 taken captive, but gained nothing by his crafty 
 wiles. For he approached that portion of his 
 
 1 Cf. Numb. xxiv. 2 i Kings xx. 31, 32, 42. 3 1 Kings xxii. 22. 
 
 mind which was subject to desire, when he 
 said: "Command that these stones be made 
 bread;" the part subject to wrath, when he 
 tried to incite Him to seek the power of the 
 present life and the kingdoms of this world; 
 the reasonable part when he said: "If 
 Thou art the Son of God cast Thyself down 
 from hence." 4 And in these his deception 
 availed nothing for this reason because he 
 found that there was nothing damaged in 
 Him, in accordance with the supposition 
 which he had formed from a false idea. 
 Wherefore no part of His soul yielded when 
 tempted by the wiles of the foe, "For lo," He 
 saith, " the prince of this world cometh and 
 shall find nothing: in Me." 5 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A question whether we should be drawn back to our country 
 by a proper desire for greater silence. 
 
 Germanus : Among other kinds of illusions 
 and mistakes on our part, which by the vain 
 promise of spiritual advantages have fired us 
 with a longing for our country (as your holi- 
 ness has discovered by the keen insight of 
 your mind), this stands out as the principal 
 reason, that sometimes we are beset by our 
 brethren and cannot possibly continue in un- 
 broken solitude and continual silence, as we 
 should like. And by this the course and 
 measure of our daily abstinence, which we 
 always want to maintain undisturbed for the 
 chastening of our body, is sure to be inter- 
 fered with on the arrival of some of the breth- 
 ren. And this we certainly feel would never 
 happen in our own country, where it is im- 
 possible to find anyone, or scarcely anyone 
 who adopts this manner of life. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The answer on the devil's illusion, because he promises us the 
 peace of a vaster solitude. 
 
 Abraham : Never to be resorted to by men 
 at all is a sign of an unreasonable and ill- 
 considered strictness, or rather of the great- 
 est coldness. For if a man walks in this way, 
 on which he has entered, with too slow steps, 
 and lives according to the former man, it is 
 right that none — I say not of the saints — but 
 of any men should visit him. But you, if you 
 are inflamed with true and perfect love of our 
 Lord, and follow God, who indeed is love, 
 with entire fervour of spirit, are sure to be 
 
 4 S. Matt. iv. 3, 6. 
 
 5 S. John xiv. 30. 
 
54Q 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 resorted to by men, to whatever inaccessible 
 spot you may flee, and, in proportion as the 
 ardour of divine love brings you nearer to 
 God, so will a larger concourse of saintly 
 brethren flock to you. For, as the Lord says, 
 "A city set on an hill cannot be hid," 1 be- 
 cause "them that love Me," saith the Lord, 
 "will I honour, and they that despise Me 
 shall be contemned.' 12 But you ought to 
 know that this is the subtlest device of the 
 devil, this is his best concealed pitfall, into 
 which he precipitates some wretched and 
 heedless persons, so that, while he is pro- 
 mising them greater things, he takes away the 
 requisite advantages of their daily profit, by 
 persuading them that more remote and vaster 
 deserts should be sought, and by portraying 
 them in their heart as if they were sown with 
 marvellous delights. And further some un- 
 known and non-existent spots, he feigns to be 
 well-known and suitable and already given 
 over to our power and able to be secured 
 without any difficulty. The men also of that 
 country he feigns to be docile and followers 
 of the way of salvation, that, while he is 
 promising richer fruits for the soul there, he 
 may craftily destroy our present profits. For 
 when owing to this vain hope each one sepa- 
 rates himself from living together with the 
 Elders and has been deprived of all those 
 things that he idly imagined in his heart, he 
 rises as it were from a most profound slumber, 
 and when awake will find nothing of those 
 things of which he had dreamed. And so as 
 he is hampered by larger requirements for 
 this life and inextricable snares, the devil 
 will not even allow him to aspire to those 
 things which he had once promised himself, 
 and as he is liable no longer to those rare 
 and spiritual visits of the brethren which he 
 had formerly avoided, but to daily interrup- 
 tions from worldly folk, he will never suffer 
 him to return even to the moderate quiet and 
 svstem of the anchorite's life. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 How useful is relaxation on the arrival of brethren. 
 
 That most refreshing interlude also of re- 
 laxation and courtesy, which sometimes is 
 wont to intervene because of the arrival of 
 brethren, although it may seem to us tiresome 
 and what we ought to avoid, yet how useful 
 it is and good for our bodies as well as our 
 souls you must patiently hear in few words. 
 It often' happens I say not to novices and 
 weak persons but even to those of the greatest 
 
 Cf. S. Matt. v. 14. 
 
 1 Sam. ii. 30. 
 
 experience and perfection, that unless the 
 strain and tension of their mind is lessened 
 by the relaxation of some changes, they fall 
 either into coldness of spirit, or at any rate 
 into a most dangerous state of bodily health. 
 And therefore when there occur even frequent 
 visits from the brethren they should not only 
 be patiently put up with, but even gratefully 
 welcomed by those who are wise and perfect; 
 first because they stimulate us always to de- 
 sire with greater eagerness the retirement of 
 the desert (for somehow while they are thought 
 to impede our progress, they really maintain 
 it unwearied and unbroken, and if it was never 
 hindered by any obstacles, it would not endure 
 to the end with unswerving perseverance), 
 next because they give us the opportunity of 
 refreshing the body, together with the advan- 
 tages of kindness, and at the same time with 
 a most delightful relaxation of the body con- 
 fer on us greater advantage than those which 
 we should have gained by the Aveariness which 
 results from abstinence. On which matter I 
 will briefly give a most apt illustration 
 handed down in an old story. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 How the Evangelist John is said to have shown the value of 
 relaxation. 
 
 It is said that the blessed John, while he 
 was gently stroking a partridge with his 
 hands suddenly saw a philosopher approaching 
 him in the garb of a hunter, who was aston- 
 ished that a man of so great fame and reputa- 
 tion should demean himself to such paltry 
 and trivial amusements, and said : " Can you 
 be that John, whose great and famous reputa- 
 tion attracted me also with the greatest desire 
 for your acquaintance? Why then do you 
 occupy yourself with such poor amusements?" 
 To whom the blessed John : " What is it," said 
 he, "that you are carrying in your hand?" 
 The other replied: "a bow." " And why," said 
 he, " do you not always carry it everywhere 
 bent?"* To whom the other replied: "It 
 would not do, for the force of its stiffness 
 would be relaxed by its being continually 
 bent, and it would be lessened and destroyed, 
 and when the time came for it to send stouter 
 arrows after some beast, its stiffness would be 
 lost by the excessive and continuous strain, 
 and it would be impossible for the more power- 
 ful bolts to be shot." "And, my lad," said 
 the blessed John, "do not let this slight and 
 short relaxation of my mind disturb you, as 
 unless it sometimes relieved and relaxed the 
 rigour of its purpose by some recreation, the 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM. 
 
 541 
 
 spirit would lose its spring owing to the un- 
 broken strain, and .would be unable when 
 need required, implicitly to follow what was 
 right." 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A question how we ought to understand what the gospel says : 
 " My yoke is easy and My burden is light." 
 
 Germanus : As you have given us a remedy 
 for all delusions, and by God's grace all the 
 wiles of the devil by which we were harassed, 
 have been exposed by your teaching, we beg 
 that you will also explain to us this that is 
 said in the gospel : " My yoke is easy, and My 
 burden is light." 2 For it seems tolerably op- 
 posed to that saying of the prophet where it is 
 said: "For the sake of the words of Thy lips 
 I kept hard ways;" while even the Apostle 
 says : " All who will live godly in Christ suffer 
 persecutions." 3 But whatever is hard and 
 fraught with persecutions cannot be easy and 
 light. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 The answer with the explanation of the saying. 
 
 Abraham : We can prove by the easy teach- 
 ing of our own experience that our Lord and 
 Saviour's saying is perfectly true, if we ap- 
 proach the way of perfection properly and in 
 accordance with Christ's will, and mortifying 
 all our desires, and cutting off injurious lik- 
 ings, not only allow nothing to remain with 
 us of this world's goods (whereby our adver- 
 sary would find at his pleasure opportunities 
 of destroying and damaging us) but actually 
 recognize that we are not our own masters, 
 and truly make our own the Apostle's words: 
 "I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me." 4 
 For what can be burdensome, or hard to one 
 who has embraced with his whole heart the 
 yoke of Christ, who is established in true hu- 
 mility and ever fixes his eye on the Lord's 
 sufferings and rejoices in all the wrongs that 
 are offered to him, saying: " For which cause I 
 please myself in my infirmities, in reproaches, 
 in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses, 
 for Christ: for when I am weak, then am I 
 strong " ? 5 By what loss of any common 
 thing, I ask, will he be injured, who boasts 
 of perfect renunciation, and voluntarily re- 
 jects for Christ's sake all the pomp of this 
 world, and considers all and every of its de- 
 
 1 The story is quoted by S. Francis de Sales, The Devout Life, 
 and bv Dean Goulbourn, Personal Religion, Part III. c. x. 
 
 2 S. Matt. xi. 30. 4 Gal. ii. 20. 
 
 3 Ps. xvi. (xvii.) 4; 2 Tim. iii. 12. ° 2 Cor. xii. 10. 
 
 sires as dung, so that he may gain Christ, and 
 by continual meditation on this command of 
 the gospel, scorns and gets rid of agitation at 
 every loss: "For what shall it profit a man 
 if he gain the whole world, but lose his own 
 soul ? Or what shall a man give in exchange 
 for his soul? " G For the loss of what will he 
 be vexed, who recognizes that everything that 
 can be taken away from others is not their 
 own, and proclaims with unconquered valour: 
 "We brought nothing into this world: it is 
 certain that we cannot carry anything out " ? "' 
 By the needs of what want will his courage be 
 overcome, who knows how to do without " scrip 
 for the way, money for the purse," 8 and, like 
 the Apostle, glories " in many fasts, in hunger 
 and thirst, in cold and nakedness " ? 9 What 
 effort, or what hard command of an Elder can 
 disturb the peace of his bosom, who has no 
 will of his own, and not only patiently but 
 even gratefully accepts what is commanded 
 him, and after the example of our Saviour, 
 seeks to do not his own will, but the Father's, 
 as He says Himself to His Father: "Never- 
 theless not as I will, but as Thou wilt " ? 10 By 
 what wrongs also, by what persecution will he 
 be frightened, nay, what punishment can fail 
 to be delightful to him, who always rejoices 
 together with apostles in stripes, and longs to 
 be counted worthy to suffer shame for the 
 name of Christ? 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Why the Lord's yoke is felt grievous and His burden heavy. 
 
 But the fact that to us on the contrary the 
 yoke of Christ seems neither light nor easy, 
 must be rightly ascribed to our perverseness, 
 as we are cast down by unbelief and want of 
 faith, and fight with foolish obstinacy against 
 His command, or rather advice, who says: 
 " If thou wilt be perfect, go sell (or get rid of) 
 all that thou hast, and come follow Me," u for 
 we keep the substance of our worldly goods. 
 And as the devil holds our soul fast in the 
 toils of these, what remains but that, when he 
 wants to sever us from spiritual delights, he 
 should vex us by diminishing these and de- 
 priving us of them, contriving by his crafty 
 wiles that when the sweetness of His yoke 
 and lightness of His burden have become 
 grievous to us through the evil of a corrupt 
 desire, and when we are caught in the chains 
 of that very property and substance, which 
 we kept for our comfort and solace, he may 
 
 S. Matt. xvi. 26. 
 1 Tim. vi. 7. 
 
 8 S. Matt. x. 9, 10. 
 
 9 2 Cor. xi. 27. 
 
 10 S. Matt. xxvi. 39. 
 
 11 S. Matt. xix. 21. 
 
542 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 always torment us with the scourges of worldly 
 cares, extorting from us ourselves that where- 
 with we are tortured ? For " Each one is bound 
 by the cords of his own sins," and hears from 
 the prophet: "Behold all you that kindle a 
 fire, encompassed with flames, walk in the 
 light of your lire, and in the flames which you 
 have kindled." Since, as Solomon is witness, 
 " Each man shall thereby be punished, whereby 
 he has sinned." 1 For the very pleasures 
 which we enjoy become a torment to us, 
 and the delights and enjoyments of this flesh, 
 turn like executioners upon their originator, 
 because one who is supported by his former 
 wealth and property is sure not to admit perfect 
 humility of heart, not entire mortification of 
 dangerous pleasures. But where all these im- 
 plements of goodness give their aid, there all 
 the trials of this present life, and whatever 
 losses the enemy can contrive, are endured 
 not only with the utmost patience, but with 
 real pleasure, and again when they are wanting 
 so dangerous a pride springs up that we are 
 actually wounded by the deadly strokes of 
 impatience at the slightest reproach, and it 
 may be said to us by the prophet Jeremiah : 
 " And now what hast thou to do in the way of 
 Egypt, to drink the troubled water? And what 
 hast thou to do with the way of the Assyrians, 
 to drink the water of the river? Thy own 
 wickedness shall reprove thee, and thy apos- 
 tasy shall rebuke thee. Know thou and see 
 that it is an evil and a bitter thing for thee to 
 have left the Lord thy God, and that My fear 
 is not with thee, saith the Lord." 2 How 
 then is it that the wondrous sweetness of the 
 Lord's yoke is felt to be bitter, but because the 
 bitterness of our dislike injures it? How is 
 it that the exceeding lightness of the Divine 
 burden becomes heavy, but because in our 
 obstinate presumption we despise Him by 
 whom it was borne, especially as Scripture it- 
 self plainly testifies to this very thing saying: 
 " For if they would walk in right paths, they 
 would certainly have found the paths of right- 
 eousness smooth " ? 3 It is plain, I say, that it 
 is we, who make rough with the nasty and hard 
 stones of our desires the right and smooth 
 paths of the Lord; who most foolishly forsake 
 the royal road made stony with the flints of 
 apostles and prophets, and trodden down by the 
 footsteps of all the saints and of the Lord Him- 
 self, and seek trackless and thorny places, and, 
 blinded by the allurements of present delights, 
 tear our way with torn legs and our wedding 
 garment rent, through dark paths, overrun with 
 the briars of sins, so as not only to be pierced 
 
 Prov. v. 22 ; Isa. 1. n ; Wisd. xi. 17. 
 
 by the sharp thorns of the brambles but actu- 
 ally laid low by the bites of deadly serpents 
 and scorpions lurking there. For '"there are 
 thorns and thistles in wrong ways, but he 
 that feareth the Lord shall keep himself from 
 them." 4 Of such also the Lord says else- 
 where by the prophet : " My people have for- 
 gotten, sacrificing in vain, and stumbling in 
 their ways, in ancient paths, to walk in them 
 in a way not trodden." 5 For according to 
 Solomon's saying: "The ways of those who 
 do not work are strewn with thorns, but the 
 ways of the lusty are trodden down." 6 And 
 thus wandering from the king's highway, they 
 can never arrive at that metropolis, whither 
 our course should ever be directed without 
 swerving. And this also Ecclesiastes has 
 pretty significantly expressed saying: "The 
 labour of fools wearies those who know not 
 how to go to the city;" viz., that "heavenly 
 Jerusalem, which is the mother of us all." 7 
 But whoever truly gives up this world and 
 takes upon him Christ's yoke and learns of 
 Him, and is trained in the daily practice of 
 suffering wrong, for He is "meek and lowly 
 of heart," 8 will ever remain undisturbed by 
 all temptations, and "all things will work 
 together for good to him." 9 For as the pro- 
 phet Obadiah says the words of God are 
 "good to him that walketh uprightly;" and 
 again : " For the ways of the Lord are right, 
 and the just shall walk in them; but the 
 transgressors shall fall in them." 10 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Of the good which an attack of temptation brings about. 
 
 And so by the struggle with temptation 
 the kindly grace of the Saviour bestows on us 
 larger rewards of praise than if it had taken 
 away from us all need of conflict. For it 
 is a mark of a loftier and grander virtue to 
 remain ever unmoved when hemmed in by 
 persecutions and trials, and to stand faithfully 
 and courageously at the ramparts of God, and 
 in the attacks of men, girt as it were with the 
 arms of unconquered virtue, to triumph glori- 
 ously over impatience and somehow to gain 
 strength out of weakness, for " strength is 
 made perfect in weakness." "For behold I 
 have made thee," saith the Lord, "a pillar of 
 iron and a wall of brass, over all the land, to 
 the kings of Judah, and the princes and the 
 
 - Jer. ii. iS, 
 
 3 Prov. ii. 20. 
 
 * Prov. xxii. 5. 
 
 Jer. xviii. 15. 
 
 Prov. xv. 19. 
 
 ' Eccl. x. 15 (LXX.); Gal. iv. 26. 
 
 8 S. Matt. xi. 29. 
 
 9 Rom. viii. 28. 
 
 10 Micah ii. 7; Hos. xiv 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM. 
 
 543 
 
 priests thereof, and all the people of the 
 land. And they shall fight against thee and 
 shall not prevail: for I am with thee to deli- 
 ver thee, saith the Lord." 2 Therefore accord- 
 ing to the plain teaching of the Lord the 
 king's highway is easy and smooth, though it 
 may be felt as hard and rough : for those who 
 piously and faithfully serve Him, when they 
 have taken upon them the yoke of the Lord, 
 and have learnt of Him, that He is meek and 
 lowly of heart, at once somehow or other lay 
 aside the burden of earthly passions, and find 
 no labour but rest for their souls, by the gift 
 of the Lord, as He Himself testifies by Jere- 
 miah the prophet, saying: "Stand ye on the 
 ways and see, and ask for the old paths, which 
 is the good way, and walk ye in it : and you 
 shall find refreshment for your souls." For 
 to them at once "the crooked shall become 
 straight and the rough ways plain ; " and they 
 shall "taste and see that the Lord is gra- 
 cious," 2 and when they hear Christ proclaim- 
 ing in the gospel : " Come unto Me all ye 
 that labour and are heavy laden, and I will 
 refresh you," they will lay aside the burden 
 of their sins, and realize what follows: "For 
 My yoke is easy, and My burden is light." 3 
 The way of the Lord then has refreshment if it 
 is kept to according to His law. But it is we 
 who by troublesome distractions bring sorrows 
 and troubles upon ourselves, while we try 
 even with the utmost exertion and difficulty 
 to follow the crooked and perverse ways of 
 this world. But when in this way we have 
 made the Lord's yoke heavy and hard to us, 
 we at once complain in a blasphemous spirit 
 of the hardness and roughness of the yoke 
 itself or of Christ who lays it upon us, in 
 accordance with this passage: "The folly of 
 man corrupteth his ways, but he blames God 
 in his heart;" 4 and as Haggai the prophet 
 says, when we say that " the way of the Lord 
 is not right " the reply is aptly made to us by 
 the Lord: "Is not My way right? Are not 
 your ways rather crooked ?" 5 And indeed if 
 you will compare the sweet scented flower of 
 virginity, and tender purity of chastity to the 
 foul and fetid sloughs of lust, the calm and 
 security of monks to the dangers and losses in 
 which the men of this world are involved, 
 the peace of our poverty to the gnawing vex- 
 ations and anxious cares of riches, in which 
 they are night and day consumed not without 
 the utmost peril to life, then you will prove 
 that the yoke of Christ is most easy and His 
 burden most light. 
 
 1 Jer. i. 18, 19. 2 Jer. vi. 
 
 3 S. Matt. xi. 28-10. 
 i Prov. xix. 3 (LXX.). 
 
 Isa. xl. 4 ; Ps. xxxiii. (xxxiv.) 9. 
 5 Ezek. xviii. 25 (LXX.). 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 How the promise of an hundredfold in this life is made to those 
 whose renunciation is perfect. 
 
 Further also that recompense of reward, 
 wherein the Lord promises an hundredfold 
 in this life to those whose renunciation is 
 perfect, and says: "And everyone that hath 
 left house or brethren or sisters or father or 
 mother or wife or children or lands for My 
 name's sake, shall receive an hundredfold in 
 the present time and shall inherit eternal 
 life," 6 is rightly and truly taken in the same 
 sense without any disturbance of faith. For 
 many taking occasion by this saying, insist 
 with crass intelligence that these things will 
 be given carnally in the millennium, though 
 they must certainly admit that that age, 
 which they say will be after the resurrection 
 cannot possibly be understood as present. It 
 is then more credible and much clearer that 
 one, who at the persuasion of Christ has 
 made light of any worldly affections or goods, 
 receives from the brethren and partners of his 
 life, who are joined to him by a spiritual tie, 
 even in this life a love which is an hundred 
 times better: since it is certain that among 
 parents and children and brothers, wives and 
 relations, where either the tie is merely 
 formed by intercourse, or the bond of union 
 by the claims of relationship, the love is tol- 
 erably short lived and easily broken. Finally 
 even good and duteous children when they 
 have grown up, are sometimes shut out by 
 their parents from their homes and property, 
 and sometimes for a really good reason the tie 
 of matrimony is severed, and a quarrelsome 
 division destroys the property of brothers. 
 Monks alone maintain a lasting union in in- 
 timacy, and possess all things in common, 
 as they hold that everything that belongs to 
 their brethren is their own, and that every- 
 thing which is their own is their brethren's. 
 If then the grace of our love is compared to 
 those affections where the bond of union is a 
 carnal love, certainly it is an hundred times 
 sweeter and finer. There will indeed also be 
 gained from conjugal continence a pleasure 
 that is an hundred times greater than that 
 which arises from the union of the sexes. And 
 instead of that joy, which a man experiences 
 from the possession of a single field or house, 
 he will enjoy a delight in riches a hundred 
 times greater, if he passes over to the adop- 
 tion of sons of God, and possesses as his own 
 all things which belong to the eternal Father, 
 and asserts in heart and soul after the fash- 
 
 6 S. Matt. xix. 29. 
 
544 
 
 CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES. 
 
 ion of that true Son: "All things that the 
 Father hath are mine;" 1 and if no longer 
 tried by that criminal anxiety in distractions 
 and cares, but free from care and glad at heart, 
 he succeeds everywhere to his own, hearing 
 daily the announcement made to him by the 
 Apostle: "For all things are yours, whether 
 the world, or things present, or things to 
 come;" and by Solomon: "The faithful man 
 has a whole world of riches." 2 You have 
 then that recompense of an hundredfold 
 brought out by the greatness of the value, and 
 the difference of the character that cannot be 
 estimated. For if for a fixed weight of brass 
 or iron or some still commoner metal, one had 
 given in exchange the same weight only in 
 gold, he would appear to have given much 
 more than an hundredfold. And so when for 
 the scorn of delights and earthly affections 
 there is made a recompense of spiritual joy 
 and the gladness of a most precious love, even 
 if the actual amount be the same, yet it is an 
 hundred times better and grander. And to 
 make this plainer by frequent repetition : I 
 used formerly to have a wife in the lustful 
 passion of desire : I now have one in honour- 
 able sanctification and the true love of Christ. 
 The woman is but one, but the value of the 
 love has increased an hundredfold. But if 
 instead of distrusting anger and wrath you 
 have regard to constant gentleness and pa- 
 tience, instead of the stress of anxiety and 
 trouble, peace and freedom from care, instead 
 of the fruitless and criminal vexation of this 
 world the salutary fruits of sorrow, instead of 
 the vanity of temporal joy the richness of 
 spiritual delights, you will see in the change 
 of these feelings a recompense of an hundred- 
 fold. And if we compare with the short- 
 lived and fleeting pleasure of each sin the 
 benefits of the opposite virtues the increased 
 delights will prove that these are an hundred 
 times better. For in counting on your fingers 
 you transfer the number of an hundred from 
 the left hand to the right and though you 
 seem to keep the same arrangement of the 
 fingers yet there is a great increase in the 
 amount of the quantity. 3 For the result will 
 be that we who seemed to bear the form of 
 the goats on the left hand, will be removed 
 and gain the reward of the sheep on the right 
 hand. Now let us pass on to consider the 
 nature of those things which Christ gives back 
 to us in this world for our scorn of worldly 
 advantages, more particularly according to 
 
 1 S. John xvi. 15. 2 1 Cor. iii. 22 ; Prov. xvii. 6 (LXX.). 
 
 3 The passage alludes to the practice of counting on the fingers, 
 in which all the tens up to ninety were reckoned on the fingers of 
 the left hand, but with the number of a hundred the reckoning be- 
 gan with the same arrangement of the fingers, on the right hand. 
 S. Jerome has a similar allusion to the practice in his work against 
 Jovinian I. i. and compare also Juvenal Satire. X. 1. 247, 248. 
 
 the Gospel of Mark who says : " There is no 
 man who hath left house or brethren or sisters 
 or mother or children or lands for My sake 
 and the gospel's sake, who shall not receive 
 an hundred times as much now in this time: 
 houses and brethren and sisters and mothers 
 and children and lands, with persecutions, 
 and in the world to come life eternal." 4 For 
 he who for the sake of Christ's name disre- 
 gards the love of a single father or mother or 
 child, and gives himself over to the purest 
 love of all who serve Christ, will receive an 
 hundred times the amount of brethren and 
 kinsfolk; since instead of but one he will 
 begin to have so many fathers and brethren 
 bound to him by a still more fervent and ad- 
 mirable affection. He also will be enriched 
 with an increased possession of lands, who 
 has given up a single house for the love 
 of Christ, and possesses countless homes in 
 monasteries as his own, to whatever part of 
 the world he may retire, as to his own house. 
 For how can he fail to receive an hundred- 
 fold, and, if it is not wrong to add somewhat 
 to our Lord's words, more than an hundred- 
 fold, who gives up the faithless and compul- 
 sory service of ten or twenty slaves and relies 
 on the spontaneous attendance of so many 
 noble and free born men? And that this is 
 so you could prove by your own experience, 
 as since you have each left but one father and 
 mother and home, you have gained without 
 any effort or care, in any part of the world to 
 which you have come, countless fathers and 
 mothers and brethren, as well as houses and 
 lands and most faithful servants, who receive 
 you as their masters, and welcome, and re- 
 spect, and take care of you with the utmost 
 attention. But, I say that deservedly and 
 confidently will the saints enjoy this service, 
 if they have first submitted themselves and 
 everything they have by a voluntary offering 
 for the service of the brethren. For, as the 
 Lord says, they will freely receive back that 
 which they themselves have bestowed on 
 others. But if a man has not first offered 
 this with true humility to his companions, 
 how can he calmly endure to have it offered to 
 him by others, when he knows that he is bur- 
 dened rather than helped by their services, 
 because he prefers to receive attention from 
 the brethren rather than to give it to them? 
 But all these things he will receive not with 
 careless slackness and a lazy delight, but, 
 in accordance with the Lord's word, "with 
 persecutions," i.e., with the pressure of this 
 world, and terrible distress from his passions, 
 because, as the wise man testifies: "He who 
 is easy going and without trouble shall come 
 
 4 S. Mark x. 29, 30. 
 
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ABRAHAM. 
 
 545 
 
 to want." 1 For not the slothful, or the care- 
 less, or the delicate, or the tender take the 
 kingdom of heaven by force, but the violent. 
 Who then are the violent? Surely they are 
 those who show a splendid violence not to 
 others, but to their own soul, who by a laud- 
 able force deprive it of all delights in things 
 present, and are declared by the Lord's mouth 
 to be splendid plunderers, and by rapine of 
 this kind, violently seize upon the kingdom 
 of heaven. For, as the Lord says, " The 
 kingdom of heaven suffereth violence and the 
 violent take it by force." 2 Those are certainly 
 worthy of praise as violent, who do violence 
 to their own destruction, for, "A man," as it 
 is written, "that is in sorrow laboureth for 
 himself and does violence to his own destruc- 
 tion." 3 For our destruction is delight in this 
 present life, and to speak more definitely, 
 the performance of our own likes and desires, 
 as, if a man withdraws these from his soul 
 and mortifies them, he straightway does glori- 
 ous and valuable violence to his own destruc- 
 tion, provided that he refuses to it the pleas- 
 antest of its wishes which the Divine word 
 often rebukes by the prophet, saying : " For 
 in the days of your fast your own will is 
 found;" and again: "If thou turn away thy 
 foot from the Sabbath, to do thy will on My 
 holy day, and glorify him, while thou dost 
 not thy own ways, and thy own will is not 
 found, to speak a word." And the great 
 blessedness that is promised to him is at once 
 added by the prophet. "Then," he says, 
 "shalt thou be delighted in the Lord, and I 
 will lift thee up above the high places of the 
 earth, and will feed thee with the inheritance 
 of Jacob thy. father. For the mouth of the 
 Lord hath spoken it." 4 And therefore our 
 Lord and Saviour, to give us an example of 
 giving up our own wills, says : " I came not to 
 do My own will, but the will of Him that sent 
 Me ; " and again : " Not as I will, but as Thou 
 wilt." 5 And this good quality those men in 
 particular show who live in the ccenobia and 
 are governed by the rule of the Elders, who 
 do nothing of their own choice, but their 
 will depends upon the will of the Abbot. Fi- 
 nally to bring this discussion to a close, I ask 
 you, do not those who faithfully serve Christ, 
 most clearly receive grace an hundredfold in 
 this, while for His name's sake they are 
 honoured by the greatest princes, and though 
 they do not look for the praise of men, yet 
 become venerated in the trials of persecution 
 
 i Prov. xiv. 23 (LXX.). 
 
 2 S. Matt. xi. 12. 
 
 s Prov. xiv. 26 (LXX.). 
 
 4 Isa. lviii. 3, 13, 14. 
 
 5 S. John vi. 38; S. Matt. xxvi. 39. 
 
 whose humble condition would perhaps have 
 been looked down upon even by common folk, 
 either because of their obscure birth, or 
 because of their condition as slaves, if they 
 had continued in their life in the world? 
 But because of the service of Christ no one 
 will venture to raise a calumny against their 
 state of nobility, or to fling in their teeth the 
 obscurity of their origin. Nay rather, through 
 the very opprobrium of a humble condition by 
 which others are shamed and confounded, the 
 servants of Christ are more splendidly en- 
 nobled, as we can clearly show by the case of 
 Abbot John who lives in the desert which 
 borders on the town of Lycus. For he sprang 
 from obscure parents, but owing to the name 
 of Christ has become so well known to almost 
 all mankind that the very lords of creation, 
 who hold the reins of this world and of em- 
 pire, and are a terror to all powers and kings. 
 venerate him as their lord, and from distant 
 countries seek his advice, and entrust to his 
 prayers and merits the crown of their empire, 
 and the state of safety, and the fortunes of 
 war. 6 
 
 In such terms the blessed Abraham dis- 
 coursed on the origin of and remedy for our 
 illusion, and exposed to our eyes the crafty 
 thoughts which the devil had originated and 
 suggested, and kindled in us the desire of 
 true mortification, wherewith we hope that 
 many also maybe inflamed, even though all 
 these things have been written in a somewhat 
 simple style. For though the dying embers 
 of our words cover up the glowing thoughts 
 of the greatest fathers, yet we hope that in the 
 case of very many who try to remove the em- 
 bers of our words and to fan into a flame the 
 hidden thoughts, their coldness will be turned 
 into heat. But, O holy brethren, I have not 
 indeed been so puffed up by the spirit of pre- 
 sumption as to give forth to you this fire 
 (which the Lord came to send upon the earth, 
 and which He eagerly longs to kindle 7 ) in 
 order that by the application of this warmth I 
 might set on fire your purpose which is already 
 at a white heat, but in order that your au- 
 thority with your children might be greater, 
 if in addition the precepts of the greatest and 
 most ancient fathers support what you are 
 teaching not by the dead sound of words but 
 by your living example. It only remains that 
 I who have been till now tossed about by a 
 most dangerous tempest, should be wafted to 
 the safe harbour of silence by the spiritual 
 gales of your prayers. 
 
 6 Cf. the note on the Institutes IV. xxiii. J Cf. S. Luke xii. 49. 
 
THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN 
 
 ON THE 
 
 NCARNATION OF THE LORD, AGAINST NESTORIUS, 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 When I had now finished the books of Spiritual Conferences, the merit of which consists 
 in the thoughts expressed rather than in the language used (since my rude utterances were 
 unequal to the deep thoughts of the saints), I had contemplated and almost determined on 
 taking refuge in silence (as I was ashamed of having exposed my ignorance) that I might as 
 far as possible make up for my audacity in speaking by modestly holding my tongue for the 
 future. But you have overcome my determination and purpose by your commendable earnest- 
 ness and most urgent affection, my dear Leo, my esteemed and highly regarded friend, orna- 
 ment that you are of the Roman Church and sacred ministry, 1 as you drag me forth from the 
 obscurity of the silence on which I had determined, into a public court which I may well 
 dread, and oblige me to undertake new labours while I am still blushing for my past ones. 
 And though I was unequal to lesser tasks, you compel me to match myself with greater ones. 
 For even in those trifling works, in which of our small ability we offered some small offering 
 to the Lord, I would never have attempted to do or apply myself to anything unless I had 
 been led to it by Episcopal command. And so through you there has been an increase of 
 importance both of our subject and of our language. For whereas before we spoke, when 
 bidden, of the business of the Lord, you now require us to speak of the actual Incarnation 
 and glory of the Lord Himself. And so we who were formerly brought as it were into the 
 holy place of the temple by priestly hands, now penetrate under your guidance and protection, 
 so to speak, into the holy of holies. Great is the honour but most perilous the undertaking, 2 
 because the prize of the holy sanctuary and the divine reward can only be secured by a vic- 
 tory over our foe. And so you require and charge us to raise our feeble hands against a 
 fresh heresy and a new enemy of the faith, 3 and that we should take our stand, so to speak, 
 against the awful open-mouthed gapings of the deadly serpent, that at my summons the 
 power of prophecy and the divine force of the gospel word may destroy the dragon now rising 
 up with sinuous course against the Churches of God. I obey your intreaty : I yield to your 
 command : for I had rather trust in my own matters to you than to myself, especially as the 
 love of Jesus Christ my Lord commands me this as well as you, for He Himself gives me this 
 charge in your person. For in this matter you are more concerned than I am, as your judg- 
 ment stands in peril rather than my duty. For in my case, whether I prove equal to what 
 you have commanded me or no, the very fact of my obedience and humility will be in some 
 degree an excuse for me ; if indeed I might not urge that there is more value in my obedi- 
 ence, if there is less that I can do. For we easily comply with any one's orders, out of our 
 abundance : but his is a great and wonderful work, whose desires exceed his powers. Yours 
 then is this work and business, and yours it is to be ashamed of it. Pray and intreat that 
 your choice may not be discredited by my clumsiness ; and that, supposing we do not answer 
 the expectations which you have formed of us, you may not seem to have been wrong in 
 commanding out of an ill-considered determination, while I was right in yielding, owing to 
 the claims of obedience. 
 
 1 Mi Leo, veneranda ac siiscipienda caritas men, Roinance ecclesia ac divini ministerii decus (Petschenig). Gennadius (De Vir. 
 Illust. c. lxi.) tells us of Cassian, that " finally at the request of Leo, then archdeacon of Rome and afterwards Eishop, he wrote seven 
 books against Nestorius on the Incarnation of the Lord, and thus brought to a close his literary labours at Marseilles, as well as his life, 
 in the reign of Theodosius and Valentinian. The date of the work must have been a.d. 430, shortly before the Council of Ephesus. 
 
 2 Professio (Petschenig) : Progressio (Gazsus). 
 
 3 Nestorius had been consecrated Bishop of Constantinople in a.d. 42S, and very shortly afterwards joined Anastasius in the denial 
 that God could be born of a woman, and developed the heresy associated with his name. 
 
THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN 
 
 INCARNATION OF THE LORD, AGAINST NESTORIUS. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The heresy compared to the hydra of the poets. 1 
 
 The tales of poets tell us that of old the 
 hydra when its heads were cut off gained by 
 its injuries, and sprang up more abundantly: 
 so that owing to a miracle of a strange and 
 unheard-of kind, its loss proved a kind of gain 
 to the monster which was thus increased 
 by death, while that extraordinary fecundity 
 doubled everything which the knife of the 
 executioner cut off, until the man who was 
 eagerly seeking its destruction, toiling and 
 sweating, and finding his efforts so often 
 baffled by useless labours, added to the cour- 
 age of battle the arts of craft, and by the 
 application of fire, as they tell us, cut off 
 with a fiery sword the manifold offspring of 
 that monstrous body; and so when the inward 
 parts were thus burnt, by cauterizing the re- 
 bellious throbbings of that ghastly fecundity, 
 at length those prodigious births were brought 
 to an end. Thus also heresies in the churches 
 bear some likeness to that hydra which the 
 poets' imagination invented; for they too hiss 
 against us with deadly tongues ; and they too 
 cast forth their deadly poison, and spring up 
 again when their heads are cut off. But be- 
 cause the medicine should not be wanting 
 when the disease revives, and because the 
 remedy should be the more speedy as the 
 sickness is the more dangerous, our Lord 
 God is able to bring to pass that that may 
 be a truth in the church's warfare, which 
 Gentile fictions imagined of the death of the 
 hydra, and that the fiery sword of the Holy 
 Spirit may cauterize the inward parts of that 
 
 1 Petschenig's text gives no titles to the chapters in this work. 
 They are added here from the text of Gazasus. 
 
 most dangerous birth, in the new heresy to 
 be put down, so that at last its monstrous 
 fecundity may cease to answer to its dying 
 throbs. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Description of the different heretical monsters which spring 
 from one another. 
 
 For these shoots of an unnatural seed are 
 no new thing in the churches. The harvest 
 of the Lord's field has always had to put up 
 with burrs and briars, and in it the shoots of 
 choking tares have constantly sprung up. 
 For hence have arisen the Ebionites, Sabel- 
 lians, Arians, as well as Eunomians and 
 Macedonians, and Photinians and Apolli- 
 narians, and all the other tares of the churches, 
 and thistles which destroy the fruits of good 
 faith. And of these the earliest was Ebion, 2 
 who while over-anxious about asserting our 
 Lord's humanity 3 robbed it of its union with 
 Divinity. But after him the schism of Sabel- 
 lius burst forth out of reaction against the 
 above mentioned heresy, and as he declared 
 that there was no distinction between the 
 Father, Son and Holy Ghost, he impiously 
 confounded, as far as was possible, the Per- 
 sons, and failed to distinguish the holy and 
 ineffable Trinity. Next after him whom we 
 have mentioned there followed the blasphemy 
 of Arian perversity, which, in order to avoid 
 the appearance of confounding the Sacred Per- 
 sons, declared that there were different and 
 
 2 The earliest writer to allude to an " Ebion " as the supposed 
 founder of the Ebionites is Tertullian (Pnescriptio c. xxxiii.). He 
 is followed in this by Epiphanius (I. xxx.) ; Rufinus (In Symb. 
 Apost. c. xxxix.), and others; but the existence of such a person is 
 more than doubtful, and the name is now generally believed to have 
 been derived from the Hebrew " Ebhion "=poor. 
 
 3 Incarnatio. 
 
 5S 1 
 
552 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 dissimilar substances in the Trinity. But 
 after him in time though like him in wicked- 
 ness came Eunomius, who, though allowing 
 that the Persons of the Holy Trinity were di- 
 vine and like x each other, yet insisted that they 
 were separate from each other; and so while 
 admitting their likeness denied their equality. 
 Macedonius also blaspheming against the Holy 
 Ghost with unpardonable wickedness, while 
 allowing that the Father and the Son were 
 of one substance, termed the Holy Ghost a 
 creature, and so sinned against the entire 
 Divinity, because no injury can be offered to 
 anything in the Trinity without affecting the 
 entire Trinity. But Photinus, though allow- 
 ing that Jesus who was born of the Virgin was 
 God, yet erred in his notion that His Godhead 
 began with the beginning of His manhood; 2 
 while Apollinaris through inaccurately con- 
 ceiving the union of God and man wrongly 
 believed that He was without a human soul. 
 P'or it is as bad an error to add to our Lord 
 Jesus Christ what does not belong to Plim as 
 to rob Him of that which is His. For where 
 He is spoken of otherwise than as He is — 
 even though it seems to add to His glory — yet 
 it is an offence. And so one after another out 
 of reaction against heresies they give rise to 
 heresies, and all teach things different from 
 each other, but equally opposed to the faith. 
 And just lately also, i.e., in our own days, we 
 saw a most poisonous heresy spring up from 
 the greatest city of the Belgae, 3 and though 
 there was no doubt about its error, yet there 
 was a doubt about its name, because it arose 
 
 1 Cassian's statement here is scarcely accurate, as Eunomius is 
 best known from his bold assertion that the Son was unlike 
 (ai'dfioioi') to the Father. 
 
 2 Photinus, the pupil of Marcellus of Ancyra, appears to have 
 taught a form of Sabellianism, teaching that Christ Himself, the 
 Son of God, had not existed from all eternity but only from the 
 time when He became the Son of God and Christ ; viz., at 
 the Incarnation. 
 
 3 Et maxima Belgarum urhe (Petschenig). Gazasus edits: 
 Et maxima Beiigarum tirbe. The city must be Treves, and the 
 allusion is to the heresy of Leporius, which was an outcome of 
 Pelagianism. Leporius was apparently a native of Treves, who 
 propagated Pelagian views in Gaul, ascribing his virtues to his own 
 free will and his own strength ; and going to far greater lengths than 
 his master in that he connected this doctrine of human sufficiency 
 with heretical views on the Incarnation ; thus combining Pelagianism 
 with what was practically Nestorianism, teaching that Jesus was a 
 mere man who had used His free will so well as to have lived with- 
 out sin, and had only been made Christ in virtue -of His Baptism, 
 whereby the Divine and Human were associated so as virtually to 
 make two Christs. He taught further that the only object of His 
 coming into the world was to exhibit to mankind an example of 
 virtue ; and that if they chose to profit by it they also might be 
 without sin. For these errors he was rebuked by Cassian and 
 others in Gaul, and on his refusal to abandon them was formally 
 censured by Proculus Bishop of Marseilles and Cylinnius (Bishop 
 of Frejus?). He then left Gaul and came to Africa, where he 
 was convinced by Augustine of the erroneous character of his 
 teaching, and under his influence signed a recantation, which was 
 perhaps drawn up by Augustine himself, and from which Cassian 
 quotes below (c. v.). This recantation was read in the Church of 
 Carthage, and subscribed by four bishops as witnesses (including 
 Augustine). It was then sent to the Gallican Bishops accompanied 
 by a letter from the four attesting bishops (Epp. August, no. ccxxix.) 
 commending the treatment which Leporius had previously received, 
 but recommending him once more to their favour as having retracted 
 his errors. See further Fleury H.' E. Book XXIV. c. xlix. and 
 Dictionary of Christian Biography, Art. Leporius. 
 
 with a fresh head from the old stock of the 
 Ebionites, and so it is still a question whether 
 it ought to be called old or new. For it was 
 new as far as its upholders were concerned ; but 
 old in the character of its errors. Indeed it 
 blasphemously taught that our Lord Jesus 
 Christ was born as a mere man, and main- 
 tained that the fact that He afterwards obtained 
 the glory and power of the Godhead resulted 
 from His human worth and not from His 
 Divine nature; and by this it taught that He 
 had not always His Divinity by the right of 
 Flis very own Divine nature which belonged 
 to Plim, but that He obtained it afterwards as 
 a reward for His labours and sufferings. 
 Whereas then it blasphemously taught that 
 our Lord and Saviour was not God at His 
 birth, but was subsequently taken into the 
 Godhead, it was indeed bordering on this 
 heresy which has now sprung up, and is as it 
 were its first cousin and akin to it, and, har- 
 monizing both with Ebionism and these new 
 ones, came in point of time between them, and 
 was linked with them both in point of wicked- 
 ness. And although there are some others 
 like those which we have mentioned yet it 
 would take too long to describe them all. 
 Nor have we now undertaken to enumerate 
 those that are dead and gone, but to refute 
 those which are novel. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 He describes the pestilent error of the Pelagian. 
 
 At any rate we think that this fact ought 
 not to be omitted, which was special and 
 peculiar to that heresy mentioned above 
 which sprang from the error of Pelagius ; viz., 
 that in saying that Jesus Christ had lived as 
 a mere man without any stain of sin, they 
 actually went so far as to declare that men 
 could also be without sin if they liked. For 
 they imagined that it followed that if Jesus 
 Christ being a mere man was without sin, all 
 men also could without the help of God be 
 whatever Pie as a mere man without partici- 
 pating in the Godhead, could be. And so 
 they made out that there was no difference 
 between any man and our Lord Jesus Christ, 
 as any man could by effort and striving 
 obtain just the same as Christ had obtained 
 by His earnestness and efforts. Whence it 
 resulted that they broke out into a more griev- 
 ous and unnatural madness, and said that 
 our Lord Jesus Christ had come into this 
 world not to bring redemption to mankind 
 but to give an example of good woiks, to wit, 
 that men, by following His teaching, and by 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 553 
 
 walking along the same path of virtue, might 
 arrive at the same reward of virtue : thus de- 
 stroying, as far as they could, all the good of 
 His sacred advent and all the grace of Divine 
 redemption, as they declared that men could 
 by their own lives obtain just that which 
 God had wrought by dying for man's salvation. 
 They added as well that our Lord and Sav- 
 iour became the Christ after His Baptism, 
 and God after His Resurrection, tracing the 
 former to the mystery of His anointing, the 
 latter to the merits of His Passion. Whence 
 this new author 1 of a heresy that is not new, 
 who declares that our Lord and Saviour was 
 born a mere man, observes that he says ex- 
 actly the same thing which the Pelagians said 
 before him, and allows that it follows from 
 his error that as he asserts that our Lord 
 Jesus Christ lived as a mere man entirely 
 without sin, so he must maintain in his blas- 
 phemy that all men can of themselves be 
 without sin, nor would he admit that our 
 Lord's redemption was a thing needful for 
 His example, since men can (as they say) 
 reach the heavenly kingdom by their own ex- 
 ertions. Nor is there any doubt about this, 
 as the thing itself shows us. For hence it 
 comes that he encourages the complaints of 
 the Pelagians by his intervention, and intro- 
 duces their case into his writings, because he 
 cleverly or (to speak more truly) cunningly 
 patronizes them and by his wicked liking for 
 them recommends their mischievous teaching 
 which is akin to his own, for he is well aware 
 that he is of the same opinion and of the 
 same spirit, and therefore is distressed that 
 a heresy akin to his own has been cast out of 
 the church, as he knows that it is entirely 
 allied to his own in wickedness. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Leporius together with some others recants his Pelagianism. 
 
 But still as those who were the outcome of 
 this stock of pestilent thorns have already by 
 the Divine help and goodness been healed, 
 we should also now pray to our Lord God 
 that as in some points that older heresy and 
 this new one are akin to each other, He 
 would grant a like happy ending to those 
 which had a like bad beginning. For Lepo- 
 rius, then a monk, now a presbyter, who fol- 
 lowed the teaching or rather the evil deeds of 
 Pelagius, as we said above, and was among 
 the earliest and greatest champions of the 
 aforesaid heresy in Gaul, was admonished by 
 
 1 Nestorius. 
 
 us and corrected by God, and so nobly con- 
 demned his former erroneous persuasion that 
 his amendment was almost as much a matter 
 for congratulation as is the unimpaired faith 
 of many. For it is the best thing never to 
 fall into error: the second best thing to make 
 a good repudiation of it. He then coming to 
 himself confessed his mistake with grief but 
 without shame not only in Africa, where he 
 was then and is now, 2 but also gave to all the 
 cities of Gaul penitent letters containing his 
 confession and grief; in order that his return 
 to the faith might be made known where his 
 deviation from it had been first published, 
 and that those who had formerly been wit- 
 nesses of his error might also afterwards be 
 witnesses of his amendment. 
 
 CFIAPTER V. 
 
 By the case of Leporius he establishes the fact that an open 
 sin ought to be expiated by an open confession ; and also 
 teaches from his words what is the right view to be held on 
 the Incarnation. 
 
 And from his confession or rather lamenta- 
 tion we have thought it well to quote some 
 part, for two reasons : that their recantation 
 might be a testimony to us, and an example 
 to those who are weak, and that they might 
 not be ashamed to follow in their amendment, 
 the men whom they were not ashamed to fol- 
 low in their error ; and that they might be 
 cured by a like remedy as they suffered from 
 a like disease. He then acknowledging the 
 perverseness of his views, and seeing the 
 light of faith, wrote to the Gallican Bishops, 
 and thus began : 3 "I scarcely know, O my 
 most venerable lords and blessed priests, what 
 first to accuse myself of, and what first to ex- 
 cuse myself for. Clumsiness and pride and 
 foolish ignorance together with wrong notions, 
 zeal combined with indiscretion, and (to speak 
 truly) a weak faith which was gradually failing, 
 all these were admitted by me and flourished 
 to such an extent that I am ashamed of hav- 
 ing yielded to such and so many sins, while 
 
 2 The after history of Leporius appears to have been this. 
 Having come under Augustine's influence, he was persuaded by him 
 to give up all his property, and renounce the temporal care of a 
 monastery which he had previously founded in a garden at Hippo : 
 where also he had begun to build a xeuodochium or house of refuge 
 for strangers, partly at his own expense, and partly out of the alms 
 of the faithful. He also at Augustine's suggestion, built a church 
 in memory of the " eight martyrs " (see Aug. Serm. 356). This 
 complete renunciation of the world must have taken place about 425 ; 
 and in the following year we find that he was present at the election 
 of Eraclius to succeed Augustine (Aug. Ep. 213) ; but subsequent 
 to this nothing is known of his history except that he was still living 
 when Cassian wrote. It is right to mention that doubts have been 
 raised by Tillemont whether the presbyter of Hippo is identical 
 witli the quondam heretic, but on scarcely sufficient grounds. 
 
 3 The recantation of Leporius may be found in the Bibliotheca 
 Maxima Patrum. vol. vii. p. 14; Labbe, Concilia, ii. p. 1678; and 
 Migne Patrol. Lat. xxxi. p. 122 1. 
 
554 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 at the same time I am profoundly thankful for 
 having been able to cast them out of my soul." 
 And after a little he adds : " If then, not 
 understanding this power of God, and wise in 
 our conceits and opinions, from fear lest God 
 should seem to act a part that was beneath Him, 
 we suppose that a man was born in conjunction 
 with God, in such a way that we ascribe to 
 God alone what belongs to God separately, and 
 attribute to man alone what belongs to man 
 separately, we clearly add a fourth Person to 
 the Trinity and out of the one God the Son 
 begin to make not one but two Christs ; from 
 which may our Lord and God Jesus Christ 
 Himself preserve us. Therefore we confess 
 that our Lord and God Jesus Christ the only 
 Son of God, who for His own sake 1 was be- 
 gotten of the Father before all worlds, when 
 in time He was for our sakes x ma*ie man of 
 the Holy Ghost and the ever-virgin Mary, 
 was God at His birth; and while Ave confess 
 the two substances of the flesh and the Word, 2 
 we always acknowledge with pious belief and 
 faith one and the same Person to be indivisi- 
 bly God and man ; and we say that from the 
 time when Pie took upon Him flesh all that 
 belonged to God was given to man, as all that 
 belonged to man was joined to God. 3 And 
 in this sense ' the Word was made flesh : ' 4 not 
 that He began by any conversion or change 
 to be what He was not, but that by the Divine 
 'economy ' the Word of the Father never left 
 the Father, 5 and yet vouchsafed to become 
 truly man, and the Only Begotten was incar- 
 nate through that hidden mystery which He 
 alone understands (for it is ours to believe: 
 His to understand). And thus God ' the 
 Word ' Himself receiving everything that be- 
 longs to man, is made man, and the manhood 6 
 which is assumed, receiving everything that 
 belongs to God cannot but be God; but 
 whereas He is said to be incarnate and un- 
 mixed, we must not hold that there is any 
 
 1 Sibi . . nobis. 
 
 2 Caro and Ve rbum when used in this way stand for the Hu- 
 manity and the Divinity of Christ. 
 
 3 The meaning of course is not that the manhood was endowed 
 with the properties of Deity, or conversely the Deity with the pro- 
 perties of Humanity, but simply that two -whole and perfect natures 
 were joined together in the one Person. 
 
 4 S. John i. 14. 
 
 5 This phrase gives some countenance to the idea that the recan- 
 tation was actually drawn up by Augustine, as the thought which it 
 contains is a favorite one with him, as excluding any notion that 
 Christ ever for one moment ceased to be God. See Serm. 184. 
 " Intelligerent . . . Eum ... in homine ad nos venisse et a Patre 
 iron recessisse." 1S6 " manens quod erat." Similar language is 
 used by S. Leo, Serm. iS. c. 5. In Natio. 2. c. 2. and S. Thomas 
 Aquinas in the well-known Sacramental hymn " Verbum supermini 
 prodiens, Nee Patris linquens dexteram." Cf. Bright's S. Leo on 
 the Incarnation, p. 220. 
 
 6 Homo is here used as frequently by Augustine and other early 
 writers for "Manhood," and not an "individual man." In this 
 way it was freely used till the Nestorian Controversy, after which 
 it went out of favour as capable of a Nestorian interpretation, and 
 gave place to " humanitas " or " lrumana natura," when the man- 
 hood of Christ was spoken of. See the Church Quarterly Review, 
 vol. xviii. p. 10; and Bright's S. Leo on the Incarnation, p. 165. 
 
 diminution of His substance: for God knows 
 how to communicate Himself without suffer- 
 ing any corruption, and yet truly to commu- 
 nicate Himself. He knows how to receive 
 into Himself without Himself being increased 
 thereby, just as He knows how to impart 
 Himself in such a way as Himself to suffer 
 no loss. We should not then in our feeble 
 minds make guesses, in accordance with 
 visible proofs and experiments, from the 
 case of creatures which are equal, and which 
 mutually enter into each other, nor think that 
 God and man are mixed together, and that 
 out of such a fusion of flesh and the Word 
 (i.e., the Godhead and manhood) some sort 
 of body is produced. God forbid that we 
 should imagine that the two natures being in 
 a way moulded together should become one 
 substance. For a mixture of this sort is de- 
 structive of both parts. For God, who con- 
 tains and is not Himself contained, who 
 enters into things and is not Himself entered 
 into, who fills things and is not Himself 
 filled, who is everywhere at once in His 
 completeness and is diffused everywhere, 
 communicates Himself graciously to human 
 nature by the infusion of His power." And 
 after a little: "Therefore the God-man, Jesus 
 Christ, the Son of God, is truly born for us 
 of the Holy Ghost and the ever-virgin Mary. 
 And so in the two natures the Word and 
 Flesh become one, so that while each sub- 
 stance continues naturally perfect in itself, 
 what is Divine imparteth without suffering 
 any loss, to the humanity, and what is human 
 participates in the Divine; nor is there one 
 person God, and another person man, but the 
 same person is God who is also man : and 
 again the man who is also God is called and 
 indeed is Jesus Christ the only Son of God; 
 and so we must always take care and believe 
 so as not to deny that our Lord Jesus Christ, 
 the Son of God, Very God (whom we confess 
 as existing ever with the Father and equal 
 to the Father before all worlds) became from 
 the moment when He took flesh the God- 
 man. Nor may we imagine that gradually 
 as time went on He became God, and that 
 He was in one condition before the resurrec- 
 tion and in another after it, but that He 
 was always of the same fulness and power." 
 And again a little later on: "But because 
 the Word of God 7 vouchsafed to come down 
 upon manhood by assuming manhood, and 
 manhood was taken up into the Word by 
 being assumed by God, God the Word in 
 His completeness became complete man. 
 For it was not God the Father who was made 
 man, nor the Holy Ghost, but the Only Be- 
 
 7 Verbum Dei (Petschenig) Verbum Deus (Gaza;us). 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 555 
 
 gotten of the Father; and so we must hold 
 that there is one Person of the Flesh and the 
 Word : so as faithfully and without any doubt 
 to believe that one and the same Son of God, 
 who can never be divided, existing in two 
 natures 1 (who was also spoken of as a 
 "giant" 2 ) in the days of His Flesh truly 
 took upon Him all that belongs to man, and 
 ever truly had as His own what belongs to 
 God : since even though 3 He was crucified 
 in weakness, yet He liveth by the power of 
 God." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The united doctrine of the Catholics is to be received as the 
 orthodox faith. 
 
 This confession of his therefore, which 
 was the faith of all Catholics was approved 
 of by all the Bishops of Africa, 4 whence he 
 wrote, and by all those of Gaul, to whom he 
 wrote. Nor has there ever been anyone who 
 quarrelled with this faith, without being 
 guilty of unbelief: for to deny what is right 
 and proved is to confess what is wrong. 
 The agreement of all ought then to be in it- 
 self already sufficient to confute heresy: for 
 the authority of all shows undoubted truth, 
 and a perfect reason results where no one 
 disputes it: so that if a man endeavours to 
 hold opinions contrary to these, we should 
 
 in the first instance rather condemn his per- 
 verseness than listen to his assertions, for one 
 who impugns the judgment of all announces 
 beforehand his own condemnation, and a 
 man who disturbs what has been determined 
 by all, is not even given a hearing. For 
 when the truth has once for all been estab- 
 lished by all men, whatever arises contrary to 
 it is by this very fact to be recognized at 
 once as falsehood, because it differs from the 
 truth. And thus it is agreed that this alone 
 is sufficient to condemn a man; viz., that he 
 differs from the judgment of truth. But 
 still as an explanation of a system does no 
 harm to the system, and truth always shines 
 brighter when thoroughly ventilated, and as 
 it is better that those who are wrong should 
 be set right by discussion rather than con- 
 demned by severe censures, we should cure, 
 as far as we can with the Divine assistance, 
 this old heresy appearing in the persons cf 
 new heretics, that when through God's mercy 
 they have recovered their health, their cure 
 may bear testimony to our holy faith instead 
 of their condemnation proving an instance of 
 just severity. Only may the Truth indeed be 
 present at our discussion and discourse con- 
 cerning it, and assist our human weakness 
 with that goodness with which God vouchsafed 
 to come to men, as for this purpose above all 
 He willed to be born on earth and among 
 men; viz., that there might be no more room 
 for falsehood. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 How the errors of later heretics have been condemned and 
 refuted in the persons of their authors and originators. 
 
 As we began by setting down in the first 
 book some things by which we showed that 
 our new heretic is but an offshoot from ancient 
 stocks of heresy, the due condemnation of the 
 earlier heretics ought to be enough to secure a 
 
 1 Substantia?. 
 
 2 The allusion is to Ps. xviii. (xix.) 5, where the Latin (Gallican 
 Psalter) has " Exultavit, ut gigas, ad currendam viam." The mys- 
 tical interpretation which takes the words as referring to Christ is 
 not uncommon. So in a hymn " De Adventu Domini" (Mone. 
 Vol. i. p. 43) we have the verse, " Procedit a thalamo suo Pudoris 
 aula regia Gemina: gigas substantia:, Alacris ut currat viam," and 
 in another " De natali Domini" (p. 5S) " Ut gigas egreditur ad 
 currendam viam." 
 
 3 Etsi (Petschenig) Et sic (Gazasus). 
 
 4 The attesting Bishops who subscribed his recantation as wit- 
 nesses were Aurelius of Carthage; Augustine of Hippo Regius; 
 Florentius of the other Hippo ; and Secundinus of Megarmita. 
 
 sentence of due condemnation for him. For 
 as he has the same roots and grows up out of 
 the same fallow 5 he has already been amply 
 condemned in the persons of his predecessors, 
 especially as those who went wrong immediately 
 before these men very properly condemned the 
 very thing which these men are now assert- 
 ing, 6 so that the examples of their own party 
 ought to be amply sufficient for them in both 
 directions; viz., that of those who were re- 
 stored and that of those who were condemned. 
 For if they are capable of amendment they 
 have their remedy set forth in the correction of 
 their own party. If they are incapable of it 
 they receive their sentence in the condemna- 
 
 c Scrobilms (Petschenig) : The text of Gazasus has enorifats. 
 
 G The allusion is to the recantation of Leporius and his com- 
 panions. They were the immediate predecessors of Nestorius, and 
 Cassian means to say that their recantation of their error ought to 
 have been an example for Nestorius to follow. 
 
S6 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 tion of their own folk. But that we may not 
 be thought to have prejudged the case against 
 them instead of fairly judging it, we will pro- 
 duce their actual pestilent assertions, or rather 
 I should say their blasphemous folly: taking 
 "above all the shield of faith, and the sword 
 of the Spirit which is the Word of God," 1 
 that when the head of the old serpent rises 
 once more, the same sword of the Divine 
 Word which formerly severed it in the case of 
 those ancient dragons may even now cut it 
 off in the persons of these new serpents. For 
 since the error of these is the same as that of 
 those former ones, the decapitation of those 
 ought to be counted as the decapitation of 
 these ; and as the serpents revive and emit 
 pestilent blasts against the Lord's church, 
 and cause some to fail through their hissing, 
 we must on account of these new diseases add 
 a fresh remedy to those older cures, so that 
 even if what has already been done prove 
 insufficient to heal 2 the malady, what we are 
 now doing may be adequate to restore those 
 who are suffering; from it. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Proof that the Virgin Mother of God was not only Christotocos 
 but also Theotocos, and that Christ is truly God. 
 
 And so you say, O heretic, whoever you 
 may be, who deny that God was born of the 
 Virgin, that Mary the Mother of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ ought not to be called Theotocos, 
 i.e., Mother of God, but Christotocos, i.e., 
 only the Mother of Christ, not of God. 3 For 
 no one, you say, brings forth what is anterior 
 in time. And of this utterly foolish argument 
 whereby you think that the birth of God can 
 be understood by carnal minds, and fancy 
 that the mystery of His Majesty can be ac- 
 counted for by human reasoning, we will, if 
 God permits, say something later on. 4 In 
 the meanwhile we will now prove by Divine 
 testimonies that Christ is God, and that Mary 
 is the Mother of God. Hear then how the 
 
 1 Eph. vi. 16-17. 
 
 2 Curationem (Petschenig) : Dainnationein (Gazseus). 
 
 3 The Nestorian controversy was originated by a sermon of 
 Anastasius a follower of Theodore of Mopsuestia, whom Nestorius 
 brought witii him to Constantinople as his chaplain on his appoint- 
 ment as Archbishop, a.d. 428. This man, preaching in the presence 
 of the archbishop, said: "Let no one call Mary Theotocos; for 
 Mary was but a woman, and it is impossible that God should be 
 born of a woman." In the controversy which was immediately ex- 
 cited by these words Nestorius at once took the part of his chaplain 
 and preached a course of sermons in maintenance of his views ; re- 
 fusing to the Blessed Virgin the title of Theotocos, while admitting 
 that she might be termed Christotocos. See Socrates H E. Book 
 VII. c. xxxh. Evagrius H. E. Book I. c. ii. and Vincentius Lirinensis 
 Book I. c. xvii. The sermons are still partially existing in the 
 writings of Marius Mercator : and in the second of them the title 
 X0KTTOTOK05 is admitted. Cf. Hefele's Councils Book IX. c. i. 
 (Vol. iii. Eng. Transl. p. 12 sq.~). 
 
 i The subject is dealt with in Book IV. c. ii. ; VII. c. ii. sq. 
 
 angel of God speaks to the shepherds of the 
 birth of God. "There is born," he says, "to 
 you this day in the city of David a Saviour 
 who is Christ the Lord." 5 In order that you 
 may not take Christ for a mere man, he adds 
 the name of Lord and Saviour, on purpose 
 that you may have no doubt that He whom 
 you acknowledge as Saviour is God, and that 
 (as the office of saving belongs only to Divine 
 power) you may not question that He is of 
 Divine power, in whom you have learnt that 
 the power to save resides. But perhaps this 
 is not enough to convince your unbelief, as 
 the angel of the Lord termed Him Lord and 
 Saviour rather than God or the Son of God, 
 as you certainly most wickedly deny Him to 
 be God, whom you acknowledge to be Saviour. 
 Hear then what the archangel Gabriel an- 
 nounces to the Virgin Mary. "The Holy 
 Ghost," he says, "shall come upon thee, and 
 the power of the Most High shall overshadow 
 thee: therefore also that holy thing which 
 shall be born of thee shall be called the Son 
 of God." 6 Do you see how, when he is 
 going to point out the nativity of God, he 
 first speaks of a work of Divinity. For 
 "the Holy Ghost," he says, "shall come upon 
 thee, and the power of the Most High shall 
 overshadow thee." Admirably did the angel 
 speak, and explain the majesty of the Divine 
 work by the Divine character of his words. 
 For the Holy Ghost sanctified the Virgin's 
 womb, and breathed into it by the power of 
 His Divinity, and thus imparted and commu- 
 nicated Himself to human nature ; and made 
 His own what was before foreign to Him, 
 taking it to Himself by His own power and 
 majesty. 7 And lest the weakness of human 
 nature should not be able to bear the entrance 
 of Divinity the power of the Most High 
 strengthened the ever to be honoured Virgin, 
 so that it supported her bodily weakness by 
 embracing it with overshadowing protection, 
 and human weakness was not insufficient for 
 the consummation of the ineffable mystery of 
 the holy conception, since it was supported 
 by the Divine overshadowing. "Therefore," 
 he says, "the Holy Ghost shall come upon 
 thee, and the power of the Most High shall 
 overshadow thee." If only a mere man was 
 to be born of a pure virgin why should there 
 be such careful mention of the Divine Advent? 
 Why such intervention of Divinity itself? 
 Certainly if only a man was to be born from 
 man, and flesh from flesh, a command alone 
 might have done it, or the Divine will. For 
 if the will of God alone, and His command 
 
 5 S. Luke ii. ri. c S. Luke i. 35. 
 
 7 On the conception bv the Holy Ghost compare Pearson on 
 the Creed. Article III. C. ii. 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 557 
 
 sufficed to fashion the heavens, form the 
 earth, create the sea, thrones, and seats, and 
 angels, and archangels, and principalities, 
 and powers, and in a word to create all the 
 armies of heaven, and those countless thou- 
 sands of thousands of the Divine hosts (" For 
 He spake and they were made, He com- 
 manded and they were created" 1 ), why was 
 it that that was insufficient for the creation of 
 (according to you) a single man, Avhich was 
 sufficient for the production of all things 
 divine, and that the power and majesty of 
 God did not entrust that with the birth of a 
 single infant, which had availed to fashion all 
 things earthly and heavenly? But certainly 
 the reason why all those works were performed 
 by the command of God, but the nativity was 
 only accomplished by His coming was because 
 God could not be conceived by man unless He 
 allowed it, nor be born unless He Himself 
 entered in ; and therefore the archangel 
 pointed out that the sacred majesty would 
 come upon the Virgin, I mean that as so great 
 an event could not be brought about by human 
 appointment, he announced that there would 
 be present at the conception the glory of Him 
 who was to be born.' 2 And so the Word, the 
 Son, descended: the majesty of the Holy 
 Ghost was present: the power of the Father 
 was overshadowing ; that in the mystery of the 
 holy conception the whole Trinity might co- 
 operate. "Therefore," he says, "also that 
 holy thing which shall be born of thee shall 
 be called the Son of God." Admirably does 
 he add "Therefore," in order to show that 
 this would thei-efore follow because that had 
 gone before ; and that because God had come 
 upon her at the conception tha-efore God would 
 be present at the birth. And when the maiden 
 understood not, he gave a reason for this great 
 thing, saying: "Because the Holy Spirit shall 
 come upon thee, and because the power of the 
 Most High shall overshadow thee, therefore 
 also that holy thing which shall be born shall 
 be called the Son of God;" that is to say: 
 That thou mayest not be ignorant of the pro- 
 vision for so great a work, and the mystery of 
 this great secret, the majesty of God shall 
 therefore come upon thee completely; because 
 the Son of God shall be born of thee. What 
 further doubt can there be about this? or 
 what is there further to be said? He said 
 that God would come upon her ; that the Son 
 of God would be born. Ask now, if you like, 
 how the" Son of God can help being God, or 
 how she who brought forth God can fail to be 
 
 1 Ps. xxxii. (xxxiii.) q. 3 Isa. vii. 14. 4 Incredule (Petschenig). Incredulce (Gazaeus). 
 
 2 Petschenig's text is as follows : Videlicet ut, quia agi tanta j 5 Here is an instance of language which the mature judgment of 
 res per humanum offichon non valebat, ipshis ad futtcram diceret , the Church has rejected, as experience showed how it was capable 
 majestatem in conceptu, qui erat futurus in partu ; while Gazsus of being pressed into the service of heresy. Homo unitus Deo, in 
 reads deceret for diceret. \ Cassian's mouth evidently means the manhood joined to the God- 
 
 I 
 
 Theotocos, i.e., the Mother of God? This 
 alone ought to be enough for you; aye this 
 ought to be amply sufficient for you. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Follows up the same argument with passages from the Old 
 Testament. 
 
 But as there is an abundant supply of wit- 
 nesses "to the holy nativity; viz., all that has 
 been on this account written, to bear witness 
 to it, let us examine in some slight degree 
 an announcement about God even in the Old 
 Testament, that you may know that the fact 
 that the birth of God was to be from a virgin 
 was not only then announced when it actually 
 came to pass, but had been foretold from the 
 very beginning of the world, that, as the event 
 to be brought about was ineffable, incredulity 
 of the fact when actually present might be 
 removed by its having been previously an- 
 nounced while still future. And so the 
 prophet Isaiah says: "Behold a virgin shall 
 conceive and bear a Son, and they shall call 
 his name Emmanuel, which is interpreted 
 God with us." 3 What room is there here for 
 doubt, you incredulous person ? 4 The prophet 
 said that a virgin should conceive : a virgin has 
 conceived : that a Son should be born : a Son 
 has been born : that He should be called God : 
 He is called God. For He is called by that 
 name as being of that nature. Therefore when 
 the Spirit of God said that He should be called 
 God, He proved that He is without the Spirit 
 of God who makes himself a stranger to all 
 fellowship with the Divine title. "Behold 
 then," he says, "a virgin shall conceive and 
 bear a Son, and they shall call His name 
 Emmanuel, which is interpreted God with 
 us." But here is a point on which it is pos- 
 sible that your shuffling incredulity may 
 fasten; viz., by saying that this which the 
 prophet declared He should be called referred 
 not to the glory of His Divinity, but to the 
 name by which He should be addressed. But 
 what are we to do because Christ is never 
 spoken of by this name in the gospels, 
 though the Spirit of God cannot be said to 
 have spoken falsely through the prophet? 
 How is it then? Surely that we should un- 
 derstand that that prophecy then foretold the 
 name of His Divine nature and not of His 
 humanity. For since in His manhood united 
 to the Godhead 5 He received another name 
 
558 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 in the gospel, it is certainly clear that this 
 name belonged to His humanity, that to His 
 Divinity. But let us proceed further and 
 summon other true witnesses to establish the 
 truth : For where we are speaking about the 
 Godhead, the Divinity cannot be better es- 
 tablished than by His own witnesses. So 
 then the same prophet says elsewhere : " For 
 unto us a Son is born: unto us a child is 
 given; and the government slfall be upon His 
 shoulder; and His name shall be called the 
 angel of great counsel, God the miglity, the 
 Father of the world to come, the Prince of 
 peace." 1 Just as above the prophet had ex- 
 pressly said that He should be called Em- 
 manuel, so here he says that He should be 
 called "the angel of great counsel, and God 
 the mighty, and the Father of the world to 
 come arid the prince of peace " (although we 
 certainly never read that He was called by 
 these names in the gospel) : of course that 
 we may understand that these are not terms 
 belonging to His human, but to His Divine 
 nature ; and that the name used in the gospel 
 belonged to the manhood which He took upon 
 Him, 2 and this one to His innate power. 
 And because God was to be born in human 
 form, these names were so distributed in the 
 sacred economy, that to the manhood a human 
 name was given and to the Divinity a Divine 
 one. Therefore he says: "He shall be called 
 the angel of great counsel, God the mighty, 
 the Father of the world to come, the prince 
 of peace." Not, O heretic, whoever you may 
 be, not that here the prophet, full as he was 
 of the Holy Spirit, followed your example 
 and compared Him who was born to a molten 
 image and a figure fashioned without sense. 3 
 For "a Son," he says, "is born to us, a Child 
 is given to us; and the government shall be 
 upon his shoulder; and His name shall be 
 called the angel of great counsel, God the 
 
 head, but the words might easily be taken as implying that a man 
 was united to God, i.e., that there were in the Incarnation two per- 
 sons, one assuming and the other assumed, which was the essence 
 of Nestorianism. Compare above, the note on Homo to Book I. 
 c. v. 
 
 1 Isa. ix. 6 where in the LXX. B reads on irai&Cov iyewr\9-q 
 rilJ.h', i/ios Kai eSoBrj ri/Jt-lv, ov r) apxv eyei'7J#r) C7ri toii ui/xou avrov, 
 Kai KaAetTGit to ovofxa avrov MeydArj? BovAtj? ay-yeAo? a£a> -yap 
 k. t. A. To this, however, N and A add after dyyeAo;, Bavnaa-Tos 
 0"U|U/3ouAos ' ©60? (our ©eb? A) icr^vpb; e'fouo"iao"T))s ap^wi' ecprji'r/; 
 7raT>)p toO jaeAAoi/To? aiwi'os and hence in the main comes the old 
 Latin version, which Cassian here follows. Jerome's version has 
 Parvulus enim natus est nobis et filius datus est nobis ; et factus est 
 principatus super humerum ejus : et vocabitur nomen ejus admira- 
 bilis consiliarius Deus fortis pater futuri saeculi princeps pacis. The 
 Hebrew has nothing directly corresponding to the " angel of great 
 counsel," which seems to be intended as a paraphrase of " Wonder- 
 ful Counsellor" (Cf. Judg. xiii. 18), while " Father of the world to 
 come " is an interpretation of the Hebrew " Father of eternity." 
 
 2 Suscepti hominis. Cf. the line in the Te Deum, which origin- 
 ally ran " Tu ad Iiberandum mundum suscepisti hominem : non 
 horruisti virginis uterum." 
 
 3 See the language of Nestorius himself quoted below in Book 
 VII. c. vi. and cf. V. iii. 
 
 mighty." And that you may not imagine 
 Him whom He announced as God 4 to be 
 other than Him who was born in the flesh, he 
 adds a term referring to His birth, saying: 
 "A child is born to us: a son is given to us." 
 Do you see how many titles the prophet used 
 to make clear the reality of His birth in the 
 body? for he called Him both Son and child 
 on purpose that the manner of the child which 
 was born might be more clearly shown by a 
 name referring to His infancy; and the Holy 
 Spirit foreseeing without doubt this perversity 
 of blasphemous heretics, showed to the whole 
 world that it was God who was born, by the 
 very terms and words used ; that even if a 
 heretic was determined to utter blashemy, he 
 might not find any loophole for his blasphemy. 
 Therefore he says: "A Son is born to us; a 
 child is given to us; and the government 
 shall be upon His shoulder; and His name 
 shall be called the angel of great counsel, 
 God the mighty, the Father of the world to 
 come, the prince of peace." Fie teaches that 
 this child which was born is both prince of 
 peace and Father of the world to come and 
 God the mighty. What room is there then 
 for shuffling? This child which is born can- 
 not be severed from God who is born in Him, 
 for he called Him, whom he spoke of as born, 
 Father of the world to come; Him whom he 
 called a child, he foretold as God the mighty. 
 What is it, O heretic? Whither will you be- 
 take yourself? Every place is hedged and 
 shut in: there is no possibility of getting out 
 of it. There is nothing for it but that you 
 should at length be obliged to confess the 
 mistake which you would not understand. 
 But not content with these passages which 
 are indeed enough let us inquire what the 
 Holy Ghost said through another prophet. 
 "Shall a man," says he, "pierce his God, for 
 you are piercing me?" 5 In order that the 
 subject of the prophecy might be still clearer 
 the prophet foretells what he proclaimed of 
 the Lord's passion as if from the mouth of 
 Him of whom he was speaking. "Shall a 
 man pierce his God, for you are piercing 
 me ? " Does not our Lord God, I ask, seem 
 to . have said this when He was led to the 
 Cross? Why indeed do you not acknowledge 
 Me as your Redeemer? Why are ye ignorant 
 of God clothed in flesh for you? Are you 
 
 4 The text of Gazaus omits Deus. 
 
 5 Malachi iii. S. Jerome's rendering is almost identical "Si 
 affiget homo Deum, quia vos configitis me; " where the Douay ver- 
 sion strangely departs from the literal sense of the word and renders 
 vaguely " afflict." It is clear however that it was intended to be 
 understood literally, as it is here taken by Cassian as a direct 
 prophecy of the Crucifixion. The LXX. has Trrepvui., The He- 
 brew word, which is only found again in Prov. xxii. 23, appears to 
 mean " defraud." 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 559 
 
 preparing death for your Saviour? Are you 
 leading forth to death the Author of life? I 
 am your God whom ye are lifting up: your 
 God whom ye are crucifying. What mistake, 
 I ask, is here or what madness is it? "Shall 
 a man pierce his God, for you are piercing 
 me? " Do you see how exactly the words de- 
 scribe what was actually done? Could you 
 ask for anything more express or clearer? Do 
 you see how sacred testimonies follow our In- 
 carnate Lord Jesus Christ from the very cradle 
 to the Cross which He bore, as here you can 
 see that He whom elsewhere you read of as 
 God when born in the flesh was God when 
 pierced on the cross? And so there, where 
 His birth was treated of, He is spoken of by 
 the prophet as God: and here where His cru- 
 cifixion is concerned, He is most clearly 
 named God; that the taking upon Him of 
 manhood might not in any point prejudice the 
 dignity of His Divinity, nor the humiliation 
 of His body and the shame of the passion 
 affect the glory of His majesty; for His con- 
 descension to so lowly a birth and His gener- 
 ous goodness in enduring his passion ought 
 to increase our love and devotion to Him; 
 since it is certainly a great and monstrous sin 
 if, the more He lavishes love upon us, the 
 less He is honoured by us. - 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 He produces testimonies to the same doctrine from the 
 Apostle Paul. 
 
 But passing over these things which cannot 
 possibly be unfolded because, there would be 
 no limit to the telling of them, as the blessings 
 which he gives are without stint, it is time for 
 us to consult the Apostle Paul, the stoutest 
 and clearest witness to Him, for he can tell us 
 everything about God in the most trustworthy 
 way because God always spoke from his 
 breast. He then, the chosen teacher of the 
 nations, who was sent to destroy the errors of 
 Gentile superstition, bears his witness in the 
 following way to the grace and coming of our 
 Lord God: "The grace," he says, "of God 
 and our Saviour appeared unto all men, in- 
 structing us that denying ungodliness and 
 worldly desires we should live soberly and 
 justly and godly in this world, looking for the 
 blessed hope and coming of the glory of the 
 great God and our Saviour jesus Christ." 1 He 
 says that " there appeared the grace of God our 
 
 1 Titus ii. 11-13. 
 
 Saviour." Admirably does he use a word 
 suited to show the arrival of a new grace and 
 birth; for by saying "there appeared," he in- 
 dicated the approach of a new grace and birth, 
 for thenceforward the gift of a new grace 
 began to appear, from the moment when God 
 appeared as born in the world. Thus by using 
 the right word, and one exactly suitable, he 
 shows the light of this new grace almost as if 
 he pointed to it with his finger. For that is 
 most properly said to appear, which is shown 
 by sudden light manifesting it. Just as we 
 read in the gospel that the star appeared to 
 the wise men in the East : 2 and in Exodus : 
 "There appeared" he says, "to Moses an 
 angel in a flame of fire in the bush : " 3 for in 
 all these and in the case of other visions in 
 the Holy Scripture, Scripture determined 
 that this word in particular should be used, 
 that it might speak of that as "appearing," 
 which shone forth with unwonted light. So 
 then the Apostle also, well knowing the 
 coming of the heavenly grace, which appeared 
 at the approach of the holy nativity, indicated 
 it by using a term applied to a bright appear- 
 ance ; expressly in order to say *that it 
 appeared, as it shone with the splendour of 
 a new light. "There appeared" then "the 
 grace of God our Saviour. " Surely you can- 
 not raise any quibble about the ambiguity of 
 the names in this place, so as to say that 
 "Christ" is one and "God" another, or to 
 divide "the Saviour" from the glory of PI is 
 name, and separate " the Lord " from the 
 DiVinity? Lo, here the vessel 4 of God speaks 
 from God, and testifies by the clearest state- 
 ment that the grace of God appeared from 
 Mary. And in order that you may not deny 
 that God appeared from Mary, he at once 
 adds the name of Saviour, on purpose that 
 you may believe that He who is born of Mary 
 is God, whom you cannot deny to have been 
 born a Saviour, in accordance with this pas- 
 sage : " For to you is born to-day a Saviour. '" 5 
 O excellent teacher of the Gentiles truly 
 given by God to them, for he knew that this 
 wild heretical folly would arise, which would 
 turn to controversial uses the names of God, 
 and would not hesitate to slander God from 
 His own titles; and so just in order that the 
 heretic might not separate the title of Saviour 
 from the Divinity he put first the name of 
 God, that the name of God standing first 
 might claim as His all the names which fol- 
 lowed, and that no one might imagine that in 
 what followed Christ was spoken of as a mere 
 man, as by the very first word used he had 
 
 2 S. Matt. ii. 2, 7. 
 
 3 Exod. iii. 2. 
 
 4 Vas ZV/(Petschenig) ; Gazaeus has V. 
 
 5 S. Luke ii. 11. 
 
 Dei. 
 
560 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 taught that He was God. "Looking," says 
 the same Apostle, "for the blessed hope and 
 coming of the glory of the great God and our 
 Saviour Jesus Christ. " Certainly that teacher 
 of divine wisdom saw that plain and simple 
 teaching would not in itself be sufficient to 
 meet the crafty wiles of the devil's cunning, 
 unless he fortified the holy preaching of the 
 faith with a protection of extreme care. And 
 so although he had used the name of God 
 the Saviour up above, he here adds "Jesus 
 Christ," in case you might think that the mere 
 name of Saviour was not enough to indicate 
 to you our Lord Jesus Christ, and might fail 
 to understand that the God, whom you 
 acknowledge as God the Saviour, is the same 
 Jesus Christ. What then. does he say? He 
 says: "Looking for the blessed hope and 
 coming of the glory of the great God and our 
 Saviour Jesus Christ." Nothing is here 
 wanting as regards the titles of our Lord, 
 and you see here God, and the Saviour, and 
 Jesus, and Christ. But when you see all 
 these, you see that they all belong to God. 
 For you have heard of Him as God, but as 
 Saviour as well. You have heard of Him as 
 God, but as Jesus as well. You have heard of 
 Him as God, but as Christ as well. That 
 which the Divinity has joined and united to- 
 gether cannot be separated by this diversity of 
 titles ; for whichever you may seek for of them 
 all, you will find it there. The Saviour is God, 
 Jesus is God, Christ is God. In all of this 
 which you hear, though the titles used are 
 many, yet they belong to one Person in power. 
 For whereas the Saviour is God, and Jesus is 
 God, and Christ is God, it is easy to see that 
 all these, though different appellations, are 
 united as regards the Majesty. And when 
 you hear quite plainly that one and the same 
 Person is called God in each case, you can 
 surely clearly see that in all these cases there 
 is but one God spoken of. And so* you can- 
 not any longer seek to make out a distinction 
 of power from, the different names given to 
 the Lord, or to make a difference of Person 
 owing to variety of titles. You cannot say: 
 Christ was born of Mary, but God was not; 
 for an Apostle declares that God was. You 
 cannot say that Jesus was born of Mary, but 
 God was not; for an Apostle testifies that 
 God was. You cannot say: the Saviour was 
 born, but God was not ; for an Apostle supports 
 the fact that God was. There is no way of 
 escape for you. Whichever of the titles of 
 the Lord you may take, He is God, of whom 
 you speak. You have nothing to say: no- 
 thing to assert: nothing to invent in your 
 wicked falsehood. You can in impious un- 
 
 belief refuse to believe: you have nothing to 
 deny in the matter of your blasphemy. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 From the gifts of Divine grace which we receive through 
 Christ he infers that He is truly God. 
 
 Although we began to speak some time 
 back on this Divine grace of our Lord and 
 Saviour, I want to say somewhat more on the 
 same subject from the Holy Scriptures. We 
 read in the Acts of the Apostles that the 
 Apostle James x thus refuted those who thought 
 that when they received the gospel they ought 
 still to bear the yoke of the old Law: "Why," 
 said he, "do ye tempt God, to put a yoke 
 upon the necks of the disciples which neither 
 our fathers nor we have been able to bear. 
 But by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ we 
 believe to be saved in like manner as they 
 also." 2 The Apostle certainly speaks of the 
 gift of this grace as given by Jesus Christ. 
 Answer me now, if you please : do you think 
 that this grace which is given for the salvation 
 of all men, is given by man or by God? If 
 you say, By man, Paul, God's own vessel, 
 will cry out against you, saying: "There ap- 
 peared the grace of God our Saviour." 3 He 
 teaches that this grace is the result of a 
 Divine gift, and not of human Aveakness. 
 And even if the sacred testimony was not 
 sufficient, the truth of the matter itself would 
 bear its witness, because fragile earthly things 
 cannot possibly furnish a thing of lasting and 
 immortal value; nor can anyone give to 
 another that in which he himself is lacking, 
 nor supply a sufficiency of that, from the 
 want of which he admits that he himself is 
 suffering. You cannot then help admitting 
 that the grace comes from God. It is God 
 then who has given it. But it has been given 
 by our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore the Lord 
 Jesus Christ is God. But if He be, as He 
 certainly is, God : then she who bore God is 
 Theotocos, i.e., the mother of God. Unless 
 perhaps you want to take refuge in so utterly 
 absurd and blasphemous a contradiction as 
 to deny that she from whom God was born is 
 the mother of God, while you cannot deny 
 that He who was born is God. But, however, 
 let us see what the gospel of God thinks about 
 this same grace of our Lord: "Grace and 
 truth," it says, "came by Jesus Christ." 4 If 
 
 1 Jacobum. So Pctschenk:, after his authority. It is however 
 an error on Cassian's part, as the words quoted were spoken not by 
 S. James, but by S. Peter. (The text of Gazxus reads apparently 
 with no authority Petn/m.) 
 
 2 Acts xv. 10, ii. . 3 Titus ii. n. 4 S. John i. 17. 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 56i 
 
 Christ is a mere man, how did these come by 
 Christ? Whence was there in Him Divine 
 power if, as you say, there was in Him only 
 the nature of man? Whence comes heavenly 
 largesse, if His is earthly poverty? For no 
 one can give what he has not already. As 
 then Christ gave Divine grace, He already 
 had that which He gave. Nor can anyone 
 endure a diversity of things that are so utterly 
 different from each other, as at one and the 
 same time to suffer the wants of a poor man, 
 and also to show the munificence of a bounte- 
 ous one. And so the Apostle Paul, knowing 
 that all the treasures of heavenly riches are 
 found in Christ, rightly writes to the Churches : 
 "The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with 
 you." 1 For though he had already often 
 enough taught that God is the same as Christ, 
 and that all the glory of Deity resides in 
 Him, and that all the fulness of the Godhead 
 dwelleth in Him bodily, yet here he is cer- 
 tainly right in praying for the grace of Christ 
 alone, without adding the word God : for 
 while he had often taught that the grace of 
 God is the same as the grace of Christ, he 
 now most perfectly prays only for the grase of 
 Christ, for he knows that in the grace of 
 Christ is contained the whole grace of God. 
 Therefore he says: "The grace of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ be with you." If Jesus Christ 
 was a mere man, then in his wish that the 
 grace of Christ might be given to the Churches 
 he was wishing that the grace of a man might 
 be given; and by saying: "The grace of 
 Christ be with you " he meant : the grace of a 
 man be with you, the grace of flesh be with 
 you, the grace of bodily weakness, the grace 
 of human frailty! Or why did he ever even 
 mention the word grace, if his wish was for 
 the grace of a man ? For there was no reason 
 for wishing, if that was not in existence which 
 was wished for; nor ought he to have prayed 
 that there might be bestowed on them the grace 
 of one who, according to you, did not possess 
 the reality of that grace for which he was 
 wishing. And so you see that it is utterly 
 absurd and ridiculous — -or rather not a thing 
 to laugh at but to cry over, for what is a matter 
 for laughter to some frivolous persons becomes 
 a matter for crying to pious and faithful souls, 
 for they shed tears of charity for the folly of 
 your unbelief, and weep pious tears at the 
 folly of another's impiety. Let us then re- 
 cover ourselves for a while and take our 
 breath, for this idea is not only without wis- 
 dom but also without the Spirit, as it is cer- 
 tainly wanting in spiritual wisdom and has 
 nothing to do with the Spirit of salvation. 
 
 1 1 Cor. xvi. 23. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 That the power of bestowing Divine grace did not come to 
 Christ in the course of time, but was innate in Him from 
 His very birth. 
 
 But perhaps you will say that this grace of 
 our Lord Jesus Christ, of which the Apostle 
 writes, was not born with Plim, but was after- 
 wards infused into Him by the descent of 
 Divinity upon Him, since you say that the 
 man Jesus Christ our Lord (whom you call a 
 mere man) was not born with God, but after- 
 wards was assumed by God : 2 and that through 
 this grace was given to the man at the same 
 time that Divinity was given to Him. Nor 
 do we say anything else than that Divine 
 grace descended with the Divinity, for the 
 Divine grace of God is in a way a bestowal 
 of actual Divinity and a gift of a liberal 
 supply of graces. Perhaps then it may be 
 thought that the difference between us is one 
 of time rather than of what is essential, since 
 the Divinity which we say was born with 
 Jesus Christ you say was afterwards infused 
 into Him. But the fact is that if you deny 
 that Divinity was born with the Lord you can- 
 not afterwards make a confession according to 
 the faith; for it is an impossibility for one 
 and the same thing to be partly impious and 
 also to turn out partly pious, and for the same 
 thing partly to belong to faith and partly to 
 misbelief. To begin with then I ask you this : 
 Do you say that our Lord Jesus Christ, who 
 was born of the Virgin Mary is only the Son 
 of man, or that He is the Son of God as well? 
 For we, I mean all who hold the Catholic 
 faith, all of us, I say, believe and are sure 
 and know and confess that He is both, i.e., 
 that He is Son of man because born of a 
 woman and Son of God because conceived of 
 Divinity. Do you then admit that He is 
 both, i.e., Son of God and Son of man, or do 
 you say that He is Son of man only? If Son 
 of man only then there cry out against you 
 apostles and prophets, aye and the Holy 
 Ghost Himself, by whom the conception was 
 brought about. That most shameless mouth 
 of yours is stopped by all the witnesses of the 
 Divine decrees: it is stopped by sacred writ- 
 ings and holy witnesses : aye and it is stopped 
 by the very gospel of God as if by a Divine 
 hand. And that mighty Gabriel who in the 
 case of Zacharias restrained the voice of un- 
 belief by the power of his word, much more 
 strongly condemned in your case the voice of 
 
 2 Nestorius maintained that " that which was formed in the 
 womb of Mary was not God Himself . . . but because God dwells 
 in him whom He has assumed, therefore also He who is assumed is 
 called God because of Him who assumes Him. And it is not God 
 who has suffered, but God was united with the crucified flesh." 
 (Frapm. in Marius Mercator p. 7S9 sg. (ed. Migne).) Thus he made 
 out that in Christ were two Persons, one assuming and the other 
 assumed. 
 
562 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 blasphemy and sin, by his own lips, saying to 
 the Virgin Mary, the mother of God: "The 
 Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the 
 power of the Most High shall overshadow 
 thee: therefore also that holy thing which 
 shall be born of thee shall be called the Son 
 of God." 1 Do you see how Jesus Christ is 
 first proclaimed to be the Son of God that 
 according to the flesh He might become the 
 Son of man ? For when the Virgin Mary was 
 to bring forth the Lord she conceived owing to 
 the descent of the Holy Spirit upon her and 
 the co-operation of the power of the Most High. 
 And from this you can see that the origin of 
 our Lord and Saviour must come from thence, 
 whence His conception came: and since He 
 was born owing to the descent of the fulness 
 of Divinity in Its completeness upon the 
 Virgin, He could not be the Son of man un- 
 less He had first been the Son of God; and 
 so the angel when sent to announce His 
 nativity and sacred birth, when he had already 
 spoken of the mystery of His conception 
 added a word expressive of His birth, saying: 
 "Therefore also that holy thing which shall be 
 born of thee shall be called the Son of God 
 [i.e., He shall be called the Son of Him from 
 whom He was begotten].' 2 Jesus Christ is 
 therefore the Son of God, because He was be- 
 gotten of God and conceived of God. But if 
 He is the Son of God, then most certainly He 
 is God: but if He is God, then He is not 
 lacking in the grace of God. Nor indeed was 
 He ever lacking in that of which He is Him- 
 self the maker. For grace and truth were 
 made by Jesus Christ. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 How in Christ the Divinity, Majesty, Might and Power have 
 existed in perfection from eternity, and will continue. 
 
 Therefore all grace, power, might, Divin- 
 ity, aye, and the fulness of actual Divinity and 
 
 glory have ever existed together with Him and 
 in Him, whether in heaven or in earth or in 
 the womb or at His birth. Nothing that is 
 proper to God was ever wanting to God. For 
 the Godhead was ever present with God, no 
 where and at no time severed from Him. For 
 everywhere God is present in His complete- 
 ness and in His perfection. He suffers no 
 division or change or diminution; for nothing 
 can be either added to God or taken away 
 from Him, for He is subject to no diminution 
 of Divinity, as to no increase of It. He was 
 the same Person then on earth who was also 
 in heaven: the same Person in His low estate 
 who was also in the highest: the same Person 
 in the littleness of manhood as in the glory of 
 the Godhead. And so the Apostle was right 
 in speaking of the grace of Christ when He 
 meant the grace of God. For Christ was 
 everything that God is. At the very time of 
 His conception as man there came all the 
 power of God, all the fulness of the Godhead ; 
 for thence came all the perfection of the God- 
 head, whence was His origin. Nor was that 
 Human nature of His 3 ever without the Deity 
 as it received from Deity the very fact of its 
 existence. And so, to begin with, whether 
 you like it or no, you cannot deny this; viz., 
 that the Lord Jesus Christ is the Son of God, 
 especially as the archangel declares in the 
 gospels: "That holy thing which shall be 
 born of thee shall be called the Son of God." 
 But when this is established then remember 
 that whatever you read of Christ you read 
 of the Son of God : whatever you read of the 
 Lord or Jesus belongs to the Son of God. 
 And so when you recognize a title of Div- 
 inity in all these terms which you hear 
 uttered, as you see that in each case you 
 ought to understand that the Son of God 
 is meant, prove to me, if you like, how you 
 can separate the Godhead from the Son of 
 God. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 That Christ, who is God and man in the unity of Person, 
 sprang from Israel and the Virgin Mary according to the 
 flesh. 
 
 That divine teacher of the Churches when 
 in writing to the Romans he was reproving or 
 
 1 S. Luke i. 35. 
 
 2 There is some doubt whether' the words enclosed in brackets 
 form part of the genuine text. Petschenig brackets them, as want- 
 ing in some MSS. 
 
 rather lamenting the unbelief of the Jews, 
 i.e., of his own brethren, made use of these 
 words: "I wished myself," said he, "to be 
 accursed from Christ, for my brethren, who 
 are my kinsmen according to the flesh, who 
 are Israelites, to whom belongeth the adoption 
 as of children, and the glory, and the testa- 
 ments, and the giving of the law, and the ser- 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 563 
 
 vice of God, and the promises: whose are the 
 fathers, of whom is Christ according to the 
 flesh, who is over all things, God blessed for 
 ever." 1 O, the love of that most faithful 
 Apostle, and most kindly kinsman! who in 
 his infinite charity wished to die — as a kins- 
 man for his relations, and as a master for his 
 disciples. And what then was the reason why 
 he wished to die? Only one; viz., that they 
 might live. But in what did their life con- 
 sist? Simply in this, as he himself says, 
 that they might recognize a Divine Christ 
 born according to the flesh, of their own flesh. 
 And therefore the Apostle grieved the more, 
 because those who ought to have loved Him 
 the more as sprung from their own stock, 
 failed to understand that He was born of 
 Israel. "Of whom," said he, "is Christ ac- 
 cording to the flesh, who is over all things, 
 God blessed for ever." Clearly he lays down 
 that from them according to the flesh, was 
 born that Christ who is over all, God blessed 
 for ever. You certainly cannot deny that 
 Christ was born from them according to the 
 flesh. But the same Berson, who was born 
 from them, is God. How can you get round 
 this? How can you shuffle out of it? The 
 Apostle says that Christ who was born of 
 Israel according to the flesh, is God. Teach 
 us, if you can, at what time He did not exist. 
 "Of whom," he says, "is Christ according to 
 the flesh, who is over all, God." You see that 
 because the Apostle has united and joined 
 together these, " God " cannot possibly be 
 separated from "Christ." For just as the 
 Apostle declares that Christ is of them, so 
 he asserts that God is in Christ. You must 
 either deny both of these statements, or you 
 must accept both. Christ is said to be born 
 of them according to the flesh : but the same 
 Berson is declared by the Apostle to be " God 
 in Christ." Whence also he says elsewhere: 
 "For God was i'n Christ, reconciling the 
 world to Himself." 2 It is absolutely impos- 
 sible to separate one from the other. Either 
 deny that Christ sprang from them, or admit 
 that there was born of the virgin God in 
 Christ, "who is," as he says, "over all, God 
 blessed for ever." 
 
 CHABTER II. 
 
 The title of God is given in one sense to Christ, and in 
 another to men. 
 
 The name of God would for the faith- 
 ful be amply sufficient to denote the glory of 
 His Divinity, but by adding "over all, God 
 
 2 2 Cor. v. 19. 
 
 blessed," he excludes a blasphemous and per- 
 verse interpretation of it, for fear that some 
 evil-disposed person to depreciate His abso- 
 lute Divinity might quote the fact that the 
 word God« is sometimes applied by grace in 
 the Divine economy temporarily to men, and 
 thus apply it to God by unworthy comparisons, 
 as where God says to Moses : " I have given 
 thee as a God to Bharaoh, " 3 or in this pas- 
 sage: "I said ye are Gods," 4 where it clearly 
 has the force of a title given by condescen- 
 sion. For as it says "I said," it is not a 
 name showing power, so much as a title given 
 by the speaker. But that passage also, where 
 it says: "I have given thee as a God to 
 Bharaoh," shows the power of the giver rather 
 than the Divinity of him who receives the 
 title. For when it says: "I have given," it 
 thereby certainly indicates the power of God, 
 who gave, and not the Divine nature, in the 
 person of the recipient. But when it is said 
 of our God and Lord Jesus Christ, "who is 
 over all, God blessed for ever," the fact is 
 at once proved by the words, and the mean- 
 ing of the words shown by the name given: 
 because in the case of the Son of God the 
 name of God does not denote an adoption 
 by favour, but what is truly and really His 
 nature. 
 
 CHABTER III. 
 
 He explains the apostle's saying : " If from henceforth we 
 know no man according to the flesh," etc. 
 
 And so the same Apostle says : " From 
 henceforth we know no man according to the 
 flesh, and if we have known Christ according 
 to the flesh, yet now we know Him so no 
 longer." 5 Admirably consistent are all the 
 writings of the sacred word with each other, 
 and in every portion of them : even where 
 they do not correspond in the form of the 
 words, yet they agree in the drift and sub- 
 stance. As where he says : " And if we have 
 known Christ according to the flesh, yet now 
 we know Him so no longer." For the wit- 
 ness of the passage before us confirms that 
 quoted above, in which he said: " Of whom 
 is Christ according to the flesh, who is over 
 all, God blessed for ever." For there he 
 writes : " Of whom is Christ according to the 
 flesh;" and here: " if we have known Christ 
 according to the flesh." There: "who is 
 over all, God blessed for ever;'' and here: 
 " yet now we no longer know Christ accor- 
 ding to the flesh." The look of the words is 
 different, but their force and drift is the 
 same. For it is the same Berson whom he 
 
 3 Exod. 
 
 4 Ps. lxxxi. (lxxxii.) 6. 
 
564 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 there declares to be God over all born accord- 
 ing to the flesh, whom he here asserts that he 
 no longer knows according to the flesh. And 
 plainly for this reason; viz., because Him 
 whom he had known as born in the flesh, he 
 acknowledges as God for ever; and therefore 
 says that he knows him not after the flesh, 
 because He is over all, God blessed for ever; 
 and the phrase there: "who is over all God," 
 answers to this: "we no longer know Christ 
 according to the flesh; " and this phrase: "we 
 no longer know Christ according to the flesh" 
 implies this: "who is God blessed for ever." x 
 The declaration of Apostolic teaching then 
 somehow rises, as it were to greater heights, 
 and though it is self-consistent throughout, 
 yet it supports the mystery of the perfect faith, 
 with a still more express statement, and says : 
 "And though we have known Christ accord- 
 ing to the flesh, yet now we know Him so no 
 longer," i.e., as formerly we knew Him as 
 man as well as God, yet now only as God. 
 For when the frailty of flesh comes to an end, 
 we no longer know anything in Him except 
 the power of Divinity, for all that is in Him 
 is the power of Divine Majesty, where the 
 weakness of human infirmity has ceased to 
 exist. In this passage then he has tho- 
 roughly expounded the whole mystery of the 
 Incarnation, and of His perfect Divinity. 
 For where he says : " And if we have known 
 Christ according to the flesh," he speaks 
 of the mystery of God born in flesh. But 
 by adding "yet now we know Him so no 
 longer," he manifests His power when weak- 
 ness is laid aside. And thus that knowledge 
 of the flesh has to do with His humanity, and 
 that ignorance, with the glory of His Divinity. 
 For to say "we have known Christ accord- 
 ing to the flesh:" means "as long as that 
 which was known, existed. Now we no longer 
 know it, after it has ceased to exist. For 
 the nature of flesh has been transformed into 
 a spiritual substance: and that which for- 
 merly belonged to the manhood, has all become 
 God's. And therefore we no longer know 
 Christ according to the flesh, because when 
 bodily infirmity has been absorbed by Divine 
 Majesty," 2 nothing remains in that Sacred 
 
 1 Petschenig's text reads as follows: Ac per hoc et illud tit; 
 Qui est super omnia Deus, hoc die it : non novimus, jam Christum 
 secundum carnem, et hie : non novimus jam Christum secundum 
 carnem, hoc ait : Qui est Deus benedictus in siEcida. That of 
 Gazaeus has: Ac per hoc et illud ibi qui est super omnia Deus: et 
 hoc dicit, non novimus jam Christum secundum carnem : Quia est 
 Deus benedictus in scecula. 
 
 - The language used in the text by Cassian is scarcely defensible. 
 The whole tenour of the treatise shows clearly enough that his 
 meaning is orthodox enough, and that he fully recognizes that the 
 Human nature of Christ is still existing (See especially c. vi.) : 
 but the language used comes perilously near to Eutychianism, and 
 might be taken to imply that the human nature had been absorbed 
 in the Divine. Again in Book V. c. vii. he speaks of the Son of 
 man " united to the Son of God " (Cf. also c. viii.) language which 
 taken by itself might seem to sanction Nestorianism, the very 
 
 Body, from which weakness of the flesh can 
 be known in it. And thus whatever had 
 formerly belonged to a twofold substance, 
 has become attached to a single Power. 
 Since there is no sort of doubt that Christ, 
 who was crucified through human weakness 
 lives entirely through the glory of His 
 Divinity. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 From the Epistle to the Galatians he brings forward a passage 
 to show that the weakness of the flesh in Christ was 
 absorbed by His Divinity. 
 
 The Apostle indeed declares this in the 
 whole body of his writings, and admirably 
 says in writing to the Galatians: "Paul an 
 Apostle not of men, neither by man, but by 
 Jesus Christ and God the Father." 3 You 
 see how thoroughly consistent he is with him- 
 self in the former and the present passage. 
 For there he says : " Now we no longer know 
 Christ according to the flesh." Here he says : 
 " Not of men, neither by man, but by Jesus 
 Christ." It is clear that his doctrine is the 
 same here as in the former passage. For 
 where he says that he is not sent by man, 
 he implies: "We have not known Christ ac- 
 cording to the flesh:" and so I am "not sent 
 by man " but "by Christ; " 4 for if I am sent 
 by Christ, I am not sent by man but by God. 
 For there is no longer room for the name of 
 man, in Him whom Divinity claims entirely 
 for itself. And so when he had said that he 
 was sent "not of men, neither by man, but 
 by Jesus Christ," he rightly added: "And 
 God the Father," thus showing that he was 
 sent by God the Father and God the Son ; 
 in whom owing to the mystery of the sacred 
 and ineffable generation there are two Persons 
 (He who begets, and He who is begotten), 
 but there is but one single Power of God who 
 is the sender. And so in saying that he was 
 sent by God the Father and God the Son, he 
 shows that the Persons are two in number, 
 but he also teaches that their Power is One 
 in sending. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 As it is blasphemy to pare away the Divinity of Christ, so also 
 is it blasphemous to deny that He is true man. 
 
 But he says "by Jesus Christ, and God the 
 Father, who raised Him from the dead." 
 
 heresy against which Cassian himself is writing. These instances 
 of inaccurate language, which a later writer would have carefullv 
 avoided, serve to show one great service which heresies did to the 
 Church in making Churchmen write \oyLKiorepov. Cf. Dorner, 
 Doctrine of the Person of Christ, Vol. i. p. 45S (E. T.). 
 
 3 Gal. i. 1. i Christian (Petschenig) : Jesum (Gazaeus). 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 565 
 
 That renowned and admirable teacher, know- 
 ing that our Lord Jesus Christ must be 
 preached as true man, as well as true God, 
 always declares the glory of the Divine in 
 Him, in such a way as not to lose hold of the 
 confession of the Incarnation : plainly exclud- 
 ing the phantasm of Marcion, by a real In- 
 carnation, and the poverty of the Ebionite, 
 by Divinity: lest through one or other of 
 these wicked blasphemies it might be believed 
 that our Lord Jesus Christ was either alto- 
 gether man without God, or God without man. 
 Excellently then did the Apostle, when de- 
 claring that He was sent by God the Son as 
 well as by God the Father, add at once a con- 
 fession of the Lord's Incarnation, by saying: 
 "Who raised Him fromthe dead:" clearly 
 teaching that it was a real body of the Incar- 
 nate God, which was raised from the dead : in 
 accordance with this: "And though we have 
 known Christ according to the flesh," excel- 
 lently adding: "Yet now we know Him so no 
 longer." For he says that he knows this in 
 Him according to the flesh; viz., that He was 
 raised from the dead; but that he knows Him 
 no longer according to the flesh inasmuch as 
 when the weakness of the flesh is at an end, 
 he knows that He exists in the Power of God 
 only. Surely he is a faithful and satisfactory 
 witness of our Lord's Divinity which had to 
 be proclaimed, who at his first call was smit- 
 ten from heaven itself, and did not merely 
 believe in his heart the glory of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ, who was raised from the dead, 
 but actually established its truth by the 
 evidence of his bodily eyes. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 He shows from the appearance of Christ vouchsafed to the 
 Apostle when persecuting the Church, the existence of both 
 natures in Him. 
 
 Wherefore also, when arguing before King 
 Agrippa and others of the world's judges, he 
 speaks as follows: "When I was going to 
 Damascus with authority and permission of 
 the chief priests, at midday, O king, I saw in 
 the way a light from heaven above the bright- 
 ness of the sun, shining round about me and 
 all those that were with me. And when we 
 were all fallen down to the ground, I heard a 
 voice saying unto me in the Hebrew tongue, 
 Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me? It 
 is hard for thee to kick against the goad. 
 And I said, Who art Thou, Lord? And the 
 Lord said to me : I am Jesus of Nazareth, 
 whom thou persecutest. " 1 You see how truly 
 
 1 Acts xxvi. 12-15. 
 
 the Apostle said that he no longer knew ac- 
 cording to the flesh one whom he had seen in 
 such splendour and majesty. For when as he 
 lay prostrate he saw the splendour of that 
 divine light which he was unable to endure, 
 there followed this voice : " Saul, Saul, why 
 persecutest thou Me ? " And when he asked 
 who it might be, the Lord answers and clearly 
 points out His Personality: "I am Jesus of 
 Nazareth, whom thou persecutest." Now 
 then, you heretic, I ask you, I summon you. 
 Do you believe what the Apostle says of him- 
 self, or do you not believe it? Or if you 
 think that unimportant, do you believe what 
 the Lord says of Himself or do you not be- 
 lieve it? If you do believe it, there is an end 
 of the matter: for you cannot help believing 
 what we believe. For we, like the Apostle, 
 even if we have known Christ according to 
 the flesh, yet know Him so no longer. We 
 do not heap insults on Christ. We do not 
 separate the flesh from the Divinity; and all 
 that is in Christ we believe is in God. If 
 then you believe the same that we believe you 
 must acknowledge the same mysteries of the 
 faith. But if you differ from us, if you refuse 
 to believe the Churches, the Apostle, aye and 
 God's own testimony about Himself, show us 
 in this vision which the Apostle saw, how 
 much is flesh, and how much God. For 1 
 cannot here separate one from the other. I 
 see the ineffable light, I see the inexpressible 
 splendour, I see the radiance that human 
 weakness cannot endure, and beyond what 
 mortal eyes can bear, the glory of God shin- 
 ing with inconceivable light. 2 What room is 
 there here for division and separation? In 
 the voice we hear Jesus, in the majesty we see 
 God. How can we help believing that in one 
 and the same (Personal) substance God and 
 Jesus exist. But I should like to have a few 
 more words with you on this subject. Tell 
 me, I pray you, if there appeared to you in 
 your present persecution of the Catholic faith 
 that same vision which then appeared to the 
 Apostle in his ignorance, if when you were 
 not expecting it and were off your guard, that 
 radiance shone round about you, and the glory 
 of that boundless light smote you in your 
 terror and confusion, and you lay prostrate in 
 darkness of body and soul ; which the un- 
 limited and indescribable terror of your heart 
 increased, 3 — tell me, I intreat you; When the 
 dread of immediate death was pressing on 
 you, and the terror of the glory that threatened 
 you from above, weighed you down, and you 
 
 2 Ineesthnabili majestatem Dei luce fulgentem (Petschenig) : 
 Gazaeus edits Ineestimabilem majestatem. Dei luce fulgentem. 
 
 3 Quas tibi immensus et ineffabilis pavor men/is aitgeret (Pet- 
 schenig) : Gazaeus has Quas tibi immensus et ineffabiles angustias 
 pavor mentis augeret ? 
 
5 66 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 heard as well in your bewilderment of mind 
 those words which your sin so well deserves: 
 " Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me ? " and 
 to your inquiry who it was the answer was 
 given from heaven: "I am Jesus of Nazareth, 
 whom thou persecutest," what would you say? 
 "I do not know, I do not yet fully believe. 
 I want to think over it with myself a little 
 longer, who I think that Thou art, who speak- 
 est from heaven, who overwhelmest me with the 
 brightness of Thy Divinity: whose voice I 
 hear and whose splendour I cannot bear. I 
 must consider of this matter, whether I ought to 
 believe Thee or not: whether Thou art Christ 
 or God. If Thou art God alone whether it is 
 in Christ. If Thou art Christ alone, whether 
 it is in God. I want this distinction to be 
 carefully observed, and thoroughly considered, 
 what we should believe that Thou art, and 
 what we should judge Thee to be. For I 
 don't want any of my offices to be wasted. As 
 if I were to regard Thee as a man, and yet 
 pay to Thee some Divine honours." If then 
 you were lying on the ground, as the Apostle 
 Paul was then lying, and overwhelmed with 
 the brightness of the Divine light, were at 
 your last gasp, perhaps you would say this, 
 and prate with all this silly chattering. But 
 what shall we make of the fact that another 
 course commended itself to the Apostle; and 
 when he had fallen down, trembling and half 
 dead, he did not think that he ought any 
 longer to conceal his belief, or to deliberate; 
 it was enough for him that he was taught 
 by inexpressible arguments to know that He 
 whom he had ignorantly fancied to be a man, 
 was God. He did not conceal his belief, he 
 made no delay. He did not any longer pro- 
 tract his erroneous ideas by deliberating and 
 disbelieving, but as soon as he heard from 
 heaven the name of Jesus his Lord, he replied 
 in a voice, subdued like that of a servant, 
 tremulous like that of one scourged, and full 
 of fervour like that of one converted, " What 
 shall I do, Lord?" And so at once for his 
 ready and earnest faith, it was granted to him 
 that He should never be without His presence 
 whom he had faithfully believed: and that 
 He, to whom he had passed in heart, should 
 Himself pass into his heart: as the Apostle 
 himself says of himself : " Do you seek a 
 proof of Christ that speaketh in me ? " x 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 He shows once more by other passages of the Apostle that 
 Christ is God. 
 
 I want you to tell me, you heretic, whether 
 in this passage He who, as the Apostle tells 
 
 1 2 Cor. xiii. 3. 
 
 us, speaks in him, is man or God. If He is 
 man, how can another's body speak in his 
 heart? If God, then Christ is not a man but 
 God; for since Christ spoke in the Apostle, 
 and only God could speak in him, therefore 
 a Divine Christ spoke in him. And so you 
 see that there is 'nothing to be said here, that 
 no division or separation can be made be- 
 tween Christ and .God: because complete 
 Divinity was in Christ, and Christ was com- 
 pletely in God. No division or severing of 
 the two can here be admitted. There is only 
 one simple, pious, and sound confession to be 
 made; viz., to adore, love, and worship Christ 
 as God. But do you want to understand more 
 fully and thoroughly that there is no separa- 
 tion to be made between God and Christ, 
 and that we must hold that God is altogether 
 one with Christ? Hear what the Apostle 
 says to the Corinthians: "For we must all 
 be manifested before the judgment seat of 
 Christ, that every one may receive the proper 
 things of the body, according as he hath done, 
 whether it be good or evil." 2 But in another 
 passage, in writing to the Romans he says: 
 "We shall all stand before the judgment seat 
 of God: for it is written: As I live, saith 
 the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and 
 every tongue shall confess to God.'" 3 You 
 see then that the judgment seat of Gcd is the 
 same as that of Christ ; understand then with- 
 out any doubt that Christ is God; and when 
 you see that the substance of God and Christ 
 is altogether inseparable, admit also that the 
 Person cannot be severed. Unless forsooth be- 
 cause the Apostle in one Epistle said that we 
 should be manifested before the judgment seat 
 of Christ, and in another before that of God, 
 you invent two judgment seats, and fancy that 
 some will be judged by Christ and others by 
 God. But this is foolish and wild, and mad- 
 der than a madman ' s utterances. Acknowledge 
 then the Lord of all, the God of the universe, 
 acknowledge the judgment seat of God in the 
 judgment seat of Christ. Love life, love your 
 salvation, love Him by whom you were 
 created. Fear Him by whom you are to be 
 judged. For whether you will or no, you 
 have to be manifested before the judgment 
 seat of Christ, and laying aside wicked blas- 
 phemy and the childish talk of unbelieving 
 words, though you think that the judgment 
 seat of God is different from that of Christ, 
 you will come before the judgment seat of 
 Christ, and will find by evidence that there is 
 no gainsaying, that the judgment seat of God 
 is indeed the same as that of Christ, and that 
 in Christ the Son of God, there is all the glory 
 of God the Son, and the power of God the 
 
 2 2 Cor. v. 10. 
 
 3 Rom. xiv. 10, 11. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 567 
 
 Father. " For the Father judgeth no man, but 
 hath committed all judgment to the Son, that 
 all men may honour the Son as they honour 
 the Father. " x For whoever denies the Father 
 denies the Son also. "Whosoever denieth 
 the Son, the same hath not the Father: he 
 that confesseth the Son, hath the Father 
 also." 2 And so you should learn that the 
 glory of the Father and the Son is insepa- 
 rable, and their majesty is inseparable also; 
 and that the Son cannot bedionoured without 
 the Father, nor the Father without the Son. 
 But no man can honour God and the Son of 
 God except in Christ the only-begotten Son of 
 God. For it is impossible for a man to have 
 the Spirit of God who is to be honoured ex- 
 cept in the Spirit of Christ, as the Apostle 
 says : " But ye are not in the flesh, but in 
 the Spirit, if so be that the Spirit of God 
 dwell in you. But if any man have not the 
 Spirit of Christ, he is none of His." 3 And 
 again: "Who shall lay anything to the charge 
 of God's elect? It is God that justifieth. 
 Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ 
 lesus who died, yea rather who rose again." 4 
 You see then now, even against your will, 
 that there is absolutely no difference between 
 the Spirit of God and the Spirit of Christ, 
 or between the judgment of God and the 
 judgment of Christ. Choose then which you 
 will — for one of the two must happen — ■ either 
 acknowledge in faith that ■ Christ is God, or 
 admit that God is in Christ at your condem- 
 nation. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 When confessing the Divinity of Christ we ought not to pass 
 over in silence the confession of the cross. 
 
 But let us see what else follows. In writ- 
 ing to the church of Corinth, he whom we 
 spoke of above, the instructor of all the 
 churches viz. Paul, speaks thus: "The Jews," 
 says he, " seek signs, and the Greeks ask for 
 wisdom. But we preach Christ crucified, to 
 the Jews a stumbling-block, to the Gentiles 
 foolishness: but to them that are saved, both 
 Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God 
 and the wisdom of God." 5 O most power- 
 ful teacher of the faith, who even in this 
 passage, when teaching the Church thought 
 it not enough to speak of Christ as God with- 
 out adding that He was crucified on purpose 
 that for the sake of the open and solid teach- 
 ing of the faith he might proclaim Him, whom 
 he called the crucified, to be the wisdom 
 of God. He then employed no subtilty or 
 
 1 S. John v. 22, 23. 
 
 2 1 John ii. 23. 
 
 3 Rom. viii. 9. 
 * Ibid. ver. 33, 34. 
 
 5 1 Cor. i. 22 
 
 circumlocution, nor did he when he preached 
 the gospel of the Lord blush at the mention 
 of the cross of Christ. And though it was a 
 stumbling-block to the Jews, and foolishness 
 to the Gentiles to hear of God as born, God 
 in bodily form, God suffering, God crucified, 
 yet he did not weaken the force of his pious 
 utterance because of the wickedness of the 
 offence of the Jews :. nor did he lessen the 
 vigour of his faith because of the unbelief 
 and the foolishness of others: but openly, 
 persistently, and boldly proclaimed that He, 
 whom a mother 6 had borne, whom men had 
 slain, the spear had pierced, the cross had 
 stretched — was "the power and wisdom of 
 God, to the Jews a stumbling-block, and to 
 the Gentiles foolishness." But still that 
 which was to some a stumbling-block and 
 foolishness, was to others the power and wis- 
 dom of God. For as the persons differed, so 
 was there a difference of their thoughts: and 
 what a man who was v<?id of sound under- 
 standing, and incapable of true good, fool- 
 ishly denied in unbelief, that a wise faith 
 could feel in its inmost soul to be holy and 
 life giving. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 How the Apostle's preaching was rejected by Jews and Gentiles 
 because it confessed that the crucified Christ was God. 
 
 Tell me then, you heretic, you enemy of 
 all men, but of yourself above all — to whom 
 the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ is an offence 
 as with the Jews, and foolishness as with the 
 Gentiles, you who reject the mysteries of true 
 salvation, with the stumbling of the former, 
 and are foolish with the stubbornness of the 
 others, why was the preaching of the Apostle 
 Paul foolishness to the pagans, and a stum- 
 bling-block to the Jews ? Surely it would 
 never have offended men, if he had taught 
 that Christ was, as you maintain He is, a 
 mere man? For who would think that His 
 birth, passion, cross, and death were incred- 
 ible or a difficulty? Or what would there 
 have been novel or strange about the preach- 
 ing of Paul, if he had said that a merely 
 human Christ suffered that which human 
 nature daily endures among men everywhere? 
 But it was surely this that the foolishness of 
 the Gentiles could not receive, and the un- 
 belief of the Jews rejected; viz., that the 
 Apostle declared that Christ whom they, like 
 you, fancied to be a mere man, was God. 
 This it certainly was which the thoughts of 
 these wicked men rejected, which the ears of 
 the faithless could not endure; viz., that the 
 
 c Mater (Petschenig) : Caro (Gazaeus). 
 
5 68 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 birth of God should be proclaimed in the man 
 Jesus Christ, that the passion of God should 
 be asserted, and the cross of God proclaimed. 
 This it was which was a difficulty: this was 
 what was incredible; for that was incredible 
 to the hearing of men, which had never 
 been heard of as happening to the Divine 
 nature. And so you are quite secure, with 
 such an announcement and teaching as yours, 
 that your preaching will never be either fool- 
 ishness to the Gentiles or a stumbling-block 
 to the Jews. You will never be crucified 
 with Peter by Jews and Gentiles, nor stoned 
 with James, nor beheaded with Paul. For 
 there is nothing in your preaching to offend 
 them. You maintain that a mere man was 
 born, a mere man suffered. You need not be 
 afraid of their troubling you with persecution, 
 for you are helping them by your preaching. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 How the apostle maintains that Christ is the power of God 
 and the wisdom of God. 
 
 But let us see something more on the sub- 
 ject. Christ then, according to the Apostle, 
 is the power of God and the wisdom of God. 
 What have you to say to this ? How can you 
 get out of it? There is no place for you to 
 escape and fly to. Christ is the wisdom of 
 God and the power of God. He, I say, whom 
 the Jews attacked, the Gentiles mocked, whom 
 you yourself together with them are persecu- 
 ting, — He, I say, who is foolishness to the 
 heathen, and a stumbling-block to the Jews, 
 and both to you, He, I say, is the power of 
 God and the wisdom of God. What is there 
 that you can do ? Shut your ears, forsooth, so 
 as not to hear? This the Jews did also when 
 the Apostle was preaching. Do what you will, 
 Christ is in heaven, and in God, a'nd with 
 Him, and in Him in the heavens above in 
 whom also He was here below: you can no 
 longer persecute Him with the Jews. But 
 you do the one thing that you can. You 
 persecute Him in the faith, you persecute 
 Him in the church, you persecute Him with 
 the arms of a wicked belief, you persecute 
 Him with the sword of false doctrine. Per- 
 haps you do rather more than the Jews of old 
 did. You now persecute Christ, after even 
 those who did persecute Him, have believed. 
 But perhaps you think that the sin is less 
 because you can no longer lay hands on Him. 
 No less grievous, I tell you, no less grievous 
 to Him is that persecution, in which sinful 
 men persecute Him in the persons of His fol- 
 lowers. But the mention of the Lord's cross 
 
 offends you. It always offended the Jews as 
 well. You shudder at hearing that God 
 suffered: the Gentiles in their error mocked 
 at this also. I ask you then, in what point 
 do you differ from them, since you both agree 
 in this frowardness? But for my part I not 
 only do not water down this preaching of the 
 holy cross, this preaching of the Lord's pas- 
 sion, but as far as my wishes and powers go I 
 emphasise it. For I will declare that He who 
 was crucified is not only the power and wis- 
 dom of God, than which there is nothing 
 greater, but actually Lord of absolute Divin- 
 ity and glory. And this the rather, because 
 this assertion of mine is the doctrine of God, 
 as the Apostle says: "We speak wisdom 
 among them that are perfect: but the wisdom 
 not of this world, nor of the rulers of this 
 world who are brought to nought : but we 
 speak the hidden wisdom of God in a mystery, 
 which God ordained before the world, unto 
 our glory: which none of the princes of this 
 world knew: for if they had known it, they 
 would never have crucified the Lord of glory. 
 But as it is written : that eye hath not seen, 
 nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the 
 heart of man, what God hath prepared for 
 them that love Him." 1 You see what great 
 matters the Apostle's discourse comprises in 
 how small a compass. He says that he speaks 
 wisdom, but a wisdom which only those that 
 are perfect can know, and which the prudent 
 of this world cannot know. For he says that 
 this is the wisdom of God, which is hidden in 
 a Divine mystery, and predestined before all 
 worlds for the glory of the saints : and that 
 therefore it is only known to those who savour 
 of God; while the princes of this world are 
 utterly ignorant of it. But he adds the reason, 
 to establish both points that he had mentioned, 
 saying : " For if they had known it, they would 
 never have crucified the Lord of glory. But 
 it is written, that eye hath not seen, nor ear 
 hath heard, neither hath it entered into the 
 heart of man, what God hath prepared for 
 them that love Him." You see then how the 
 wisdom of God, hidden in a mystery, and 
 predestined before all worlds, was unknown to 
 those who crucified the Lord of glory, and 
 known by those, who received it. And well 
 does he say that the wisdom of God was hid- 
 den in a mystery, for never yet could the eye 
 of any man see, or the ear hear, or the heart 
 imagine this; viz., that the Lord of glory 
 should be born of a virgin and come in the 
 flesh, and suffer all kinds of punishment, and 
 shameful passion. But with regard to these 
 gifts of God, as there is no one who — since 
 
 1 i Cor. i. 6-9. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 569 
 
 they were hidden in a mystery — could ever of 
 himself understand them, so blessed is he who 
 has grasped them when they are revealed. 
 Thus all who have failed to grasp them must 
 be reckoned among the princes of this world, 
 and those who have grasped them among 
 God's wise ones. He then does not grasp it 
 who denies God born in the flesh; therefore 
 you also do not grasp it, as you deny this. 
 But do what you will, deny as impiously as 
 you like, we the rather believe the Apostle. 
 But why should I say the Apostle ? the rather 
 do we believe God. For through the Apostle 
 we believe Him, whom we know to have 
 spoken by the Apostle. The Divine word 
 says that the ord of glory was crucified by 
 the princes of the world. You deny it. They 
 also who crucified Him denied that it was God 
 whom they were crucifying. They then who 
 confess Him have their portion with the 
 Apostle who confessed Him. You are sure to 
 have your lot with His persecutors. What is 
 there then that can be replied to this? The 
 Apostle says that the Lord of glory was cruci- 
 fied. Alter this if you can. Separate now, 
 if you please, Jesus from God. At least you 
 cannot deny that Christ was crucified by the 
 Jews. But it was the Lord of glory who was 
 crucified. Therefore you must either deny 
 that Christ was nailed to the cross, or you 
 must admit that God was nailed to it. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 He supports the same doctrine by proofs from the gospel. 
 
 But perhaps it is a difficulty to you that all 
 this time I am chiefly using the witness of the 
 Apostle Paul alone. He is good enough for 
 me, whom God chose, nor do I blush to call 
 as the witness to my faith, the man whom God 
 willed to be the teacher of the whole world. 
 But to yield to your wishes, as perhaps you 
 fancy that I have no other proofs to use, hear 
 the perfect mystery of man's salvation and 
 eternal bliss, which Martha proclaims in the 
 gospel. For what does she say? '"Of a 
 truth, Lord, I have believed that Thou art the 
 Christ, the Son of the living God, who art 
 come into this world." x Learn the true faith 
 from a woman. Learn the confession of eter- 
 nal hope. Yet you have a splendid consola- 
 tion : you need not blush to be taught the 
 mystery of salvation by her, whose testimony 
 God did not refuse to accept. 
 
 1 S. John xi. 27. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 He proves from the renowned confession of the blessed Peter 
 that Christ is God. 
 
 But if you prefer the authority of a greater 
 person (although you ought not to slight the 
 authority of any one of either sex, on whom 
 the confession of the mystery confers weight — 
 for whatever may be a person's condition, or 
 however humble his position, yet the value of 
 his faith is not thereby diminished) let us 
 interrogate no beginner or untaught school- 
 boy, nor a woman whose faith might perhaps 
 appear to be but rudimentary ; but that greatest 
 of disciples among disciples, and of teachers 
 among teachers, who presided and ruled over 
 the Roman Church, and held the chief place 2 
 in the priesthood as he did in the faith. Tell 
 us then, tell us, we pray, O Peter, thou chief 
 of Apostles, tell us how the Churches ought to 
 believe in God. For it is right that you 
 should teach us, as you were taught by the 
 Lord, and that you should open to us the gate, 
 of which you received the key. Shut out all 
 those who try to overthrow the heavenly 
 house: and those who are endeavouring to 
 enter by secret holes and unlawful approaches: 
 as it is clear that none can enter the gate of 
 the kingdom save one to whom the key be- 
 stowed on the Churches is revealed by you. 
 Tell us then how we ought to believe in Jesus 
 Christ and to confess our common Lord. You 
 will surely reply without hesitation : " Why do 
 you consult me as to the way in which the 
 Lord should be confessed, when you have be- 
 fore you my own confession of Him? Read 
 the gospel, and you will not want me myself, 
 when you have got my confession. Nay, you 
 have got me myself when you have my con- 
 fession; for though / have no weight apart 
 from my confession, yet the actual confession 
 adds weight to my person." Tell us then, O 
 Evangelist, tell us the confession: tell us the 
 faith of the chief Apostle : did he confess that 
 Jesus was only a man, or God? did he say 
 that there was nothing but flesh in Him, or 
 did he proclaim Him the Son of God? When 
 then the Lord Jesus Christ asked whom the 
 disciples believed and confessed Him to be, 
 Peter, the first of the Apostles, replied — one 
 in the name of all — for the answer of one was 
 to the same effect as the faith of them all. 
 But it was fitting that he should first give the 
 answer, that the order of the answer might 
 correspond to the degree of honour: and that 
 he might outstrip them in confession, as he 
 outstripped them in age. What then does he 
 
 2 Pri7icifiatus. 
 
5/o 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 say? "Thou art," he says, "the Christ the 
 Son of the living God." 1 I am obliged, you 
 heretic, to make use of a plain and simple 
 question to confute you. Tell me, I pray, 
 who was He, to whom Peter gave that answer? 
 You cannot deny that it was the Christ. I ask 
 then, what do you call Christ? man or God? 
 Man certainly without any doubt : for hence 
 springs the whole of your heresy, because you 
 deny that Christ is the Son of God. And so 
 too you say that Mary is Christotocos, but not 
 Theotocos, because she was the mother of 
 Christ, not of God. Therefore you maintain 
 that Christ is only a man, and not God, and 
 so that He is the Son of man not of God. 
 What then does Peter reply to this? "Thou 
 art," he says, "the Christ, the Son of the 
 living God." That Christ whom you declare 
 to be only the Son of man, he testifies to be 
 the Son of God. Whom would you like us to 
 believe? you or Peter? I imagine that you 
 are not so shameless as to venture to prefer 
 your own opinion to that of the first of the 
 Apostles. And yet what is there that you 
 would not venture on? or how can you help 
 scorning the Apostle, if you can deny God? 
 "Thou art then,'* he says, "the Christ, the 
 Son of the living God." Is there anything 
 puzzling or obscure in this? It is nothing but 
 a plain and open confession : he proclaims 
 Christ to be the Son of God. Perhaps you 
 will deny that the words were spoken : but 
 the Evangelist testifies that they were. Or do 
 you say that the Apostle told a lie? But it is 
 an awful lie to accuse an Apostle of lying. 
 Or perhaps you will maintain that the words 
 were spoken of some other Christ? But this 
 is a novel kind of monstrous fabrication. 
 What then is left for you? One thing indeed; 
 viz., that since what is written is read, and 
 what is read is true, you should finally be 
 driven by force and compulsion (as you 
 cannot assert its falsehood) to desist from 
 impugning its truth. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The confession of the blessed Peter receives a testimony to its 
 truth from Christ Himself. 
 
 But still, as I have made use of the testi- 
 mony of the chief Apostle, in which he openly 
 confessed the Lord Jesus Christ as God, let 
 us see how He whom he confessed approved 
 of his confession ; for of far more value than 
 the Apostle's words is the fact that God 
 Himself commended his utterance. When 
 then the Apostle said: "Thou art the Christ 
 
 1 S. Matt. xvi. 16. 
 
 the Son of the living God," what was the 
 answer of our Lord and Saviour? "Blessed 
 art thou," said He, "Simon Barjonah, for 
 Mesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee 
 but the Spirit of My Father which is in 
 heaven." If you do not like to use the testi- 
 mony of the Apostle use that of God. For by 
 commending what was said God added His 
 own authority to the Apostle's utterance, so 
 that although the utterance came from the 
 lips of the Apostle, yet God who approved of 
 it made it His own. " Blessed art thou," said 
 He, "Simon Barjonah, for flesh and blood 
 hath not revealed it unto thee, but the Spirit 
 of My Father which is in heaven." Thus in 
 the words of the Apostle you have the testi- 
 mony of the Holy Spirit and of the Son who 
 was present and of God the Father. What 
 more can you want, or what comes up to this? 
 The Son commended : the Father was present : 
 the Holy Ghost revealed. The utterance of 
 the Apostle thus gives the testimony of the 
 entire Godhead : for this utterance must neces- 
 sarily have the authority of Him from whose 
 prompting it proceeds. " Blessed then art 
 thou," said He, "Simon Barjonah, for flesh 
 and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but 
 the Spirit of My Father which is in heaven." 
 If then flesh and blood did not reveal this to 
 Peter or inspire him, you must at last see who 
 inspires you. If the Spirit of God taught him 
 who confessed that Christ was God, you see 
 how you are taught by the spirit of the devil if 
 you can deny it. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 How the confession of the blessed Peter is the faith of the 
 whole Church. 
 
 But what are the other words which follow 
 that saying of the Lord's, with which He 
 commends Peter? "And I," said He, "say 
 unto thee, that thou art Peter and upon this 
 rock I will build My Church." Do you see 
 how the saying of Peter is the faith of the 
 Church? He then must of course be outside 
 the Church, who does not hold the faith of the 
 Church. "And to thee," saith the Lord, "I 
 will give the keys of the kingdom of heaven." 
 This faith deserved heaven : this faith re- 
 ceived the keys of the heavenly kingdom. 
 See what awaits you. You cannot enter the 
 gate to which this key belongs, if you have 
 denied the faith of this key. "And the 
 gate," He adds, "of hell shall not prevail 
 against thee." The gates of hell are the 
 belief or rather the misbelief of heretics. 
 For widely as hell is separated from heaven, 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 571 
 
 so widely is he who denies from him who 
 confessed that Christ is God. "Whatsoever," 
 He proceeds,, "thou shalt bind on earth, shalt 
 be bound in heaven, and whatsoever thou 
 shalt loose on earth, shalt be loosed also in 
 heaven." The perfect faith of the Apostle 
 somehow is given the power of Deity, that 
 what it should bind or loose on earth, might 
 be bound or loosed in heaven. For you then, 
 who come against the Apostle's faith, as you 
 see that already you are bound on earth, it 
 only remains that you should know that you 
 are bound also in heaven. But it would 
 take too long to go into details which are so 
 numerous as to make a long and wearisome 
 story, even if they are related with brevity 
 and conciseness. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 St. Thomas also confessed the same faith as Peter after the 
 Lord's resurrection. 
 
 But I want still to add one more testimony 
 from an Apostle for you: that you may see 
 how what followed after the passion corres- 
 ponded with what went before it. When then 
 the Lord appeared in the midst of His dis- 
 ciples when the doors were shut, and wished 
 to make clear to the Apostles the reality of 
 His body, when the Apostle Thomas felt His 
 flesh and handled His side and examined His 
 wounds — what was it that he declared, when 
 he was convinced of the reality of the body 
 shown to him? "My Lord," he said, "and 
 my God." 1 Did he say what you say, that it 
 was a man and not God? Christ and not 
 Divinity? He surely touched the body of his 
 Lord and answered that He was God. Did 
 he make any separation between man and 
 God? or did he call that flesh Theotocos, to 
 use your expx'ession, i.e., that which received 
 Divinity? or did he, after the fashion of your 
 blasphemy, declare that He whom he touched 
 was to be honoured not for His own sake, but 
 for the sake of Him whom He had received 
 into Himself? But perhaps God's Apostle 
 knew nothing of that subtle separation of 
 yours, and had no experience of the fine dis- 
 tinctions of your judgment, as he was a rude 
 countryman, ignorant of the dialectic art, and 
 of the method of philosophic disputation; for 
 whom the Lord's teaching was amply suffi- 
 cient, and as he was one who knew nothing 
 whatever except what he learnt from the in- 
 struction of the Lord ! And so his words con- 
 tain heavenly doctrine; his faith is a Divine 
 lesson. He had never learnt to separate, as 
 
 1 S. John xx. 28. 
 
 you do, the Lord from His body: and had no 
 idea how to rend God asunder from Himself. 
 He was holy, straightforward, upright: filled 
 with practical innocence, unalloyed faith, and 
 pure knowledge : having a simple understand- 
 ing joined with prudence, a wisdom entirely 
 free from all evil, together with perfect sim- 
 plicity: ignorant of any corruption, and free 
 from all heretical perversity, and as one who 
 had experienced in himself the force of the 
 Divine lesson, he held fast everything which 
 he had learnt. And so he — countryman and 
 ignorant fellow as you fancy him — shuts you 
 up with a brief answer, and destroys your 
 position with a few words of his. What then 
 did the Apostle Thomas touch when he drew 
 near to handle his God? Certainly it was 
 Christ without any doubt. But what did he 
 exclaim? "My Lord," he said, "and my 
 God. " Now, if you can, separate Christ from 
 God, and change this saying, if you are able 
 to. Make use of all dialectic art — all the 
 prudence of this world, and that foolish wis- 
 dom which consists in wordy subtlety. Turn 
 yourself about in every direction, and draw in 
 your horns. Do whatever you can with inge- 
 nuity and art. Say what you like, and do 
 what you like ; you cannot possibly get out of 
 this without confessing that what the Apostle 
 touched was God. And indeed, if the thing 
 can possibly be done, perhaps you will want to 
 alter the statement of the gospel story, so that 
 we may not read that the Apostle Thomas 
 touched the body of the Lord, or that he 
 called Christ Lord and God. But it is abso- 
 lutely impossible to alter what is written in 
 the gospel of God. For "heaven and earth 
 shall pass away, but the words " of God " shall 
 not pass away." 2 For lo, even now he who 
 then bore his witness, the Apostle Thomas, 
 proclaims to you : "Jesus whom I touched is 
 God. It is God whose limbs I handled. I did 
 not feel what was incorporeal, not handle what 
 was intangible : I touched not a Spirit with 
 my hand, so that it might be believed that I 
 said of it alone 'It is God.' For 'a spirit,' 
 as my Lord Himself said, ' hath not flesh and 
 bones.' 3 I touched the body of my Lord. 
 I handled flesh and bones. I put my fingers 
 into the prints of the wounds : and I declared 
 of Christ my Lord, whom I had handled : 
 ' My Lord and my God.' For I know not 
 how to make a separation between Christ and 
 God, and I cannot insert blasphemous distinc- 
 tions between Jesus and God, or rend my Lord 
 asunder from Himself. Away from me, who- 
 ever is of a different opinion, and whoever 
 says anything different. I know not that 
 
 2 S. Matt. xxiv. 35. 
 
 3 S. Luke xxiv. 39. 
 
572 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 Christ is other than God. This faith I held 
 together with my fellow apostles : this I de- 
 livered to the Churches: this I preached to 
 the Gentiles : this I proclaim to thee also, 
 Christ is God, Christ is God. A sound mind 
 imagines nothing else : a sound faith says 
 nothing else. The Deity cannot be parted 
 from Itself. And since whatever is Christ is 
 God, there can be found in God none other 
 but God." 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 He brings forward the witness of God the Father to the 
 Divinity of the Son. 
 
 What do you say now, you heretic ? Are 
 these evidences of the faith, aye and of all 
 your unbelief, enough for you : or would you 
 like some more to be added to them ? but 
 what can be added after Prophets and Apos- 
 tles? unless perhaps — as the Jews once de- 
 manded — you too might ask for a sign to be 
 given you from heaven ? But if you ask this, 
 we must give you the same answer which was 
 formerly given to them : " An evil and adul- 
 terous generation seeketh after a sign. And 
 no sign shall be given to it, but the sign of the 
 prophet Jonah." 1 And indeed this sign would 
 be enough for you as for the Jews who cruci- 
 fied Him, that you might be taught to believe 
 in the Lord God by this alone, through which 
 even those who had persecuted Him, came to 
 believe. But as we have mentioned a sign 
 from heaven, I will show you a sign from 
 heaven : and one of such a character that 
 even the devils have never gainsaid it : 
 while, constrained by the demands of truth, 
 though they saw Jesus in bodily form, they yet 
 cried out that He was God, as indeed He was. 
 What then does the Evangelist say of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ? "When He was baptized," he 
 says, " straightway He went up out of the 
 water. And lo, the heavens were opened to 
 Him, and He saw the Spirit descending like 
 a dove, and coining upon Him. And behold, 
 a voice from heaven, saying : This is My be- 
 loved Son, in whom I am well pleased." 2 
 What do you say to this, you heretic ? Do you 
 dislike the words spoken, or the Person of the 
 Speaker ? The meaning of the utterance at 
 any rate needs no explanation : nor does the 
 worth of the Speaker need the commendation 
 of words. It is God the Father who spoke. 
 What He said is clear enough. Surely you 
 cannot make so shameless and blasphemous 
 an assertion as to say that God the Father is 
 
 1 S. Matt. xvi. 4. 
 
 2 S. Matt. iii. 16, 17. 
 
 not to be believed concerning the only begotten 
 Son of God? "This," He then says, "is My 
 beloved Son in whom I am well pleased." 
 But perhaps you will try to maintain that this 
 is madness, and that this was said of the Word 
 and not of Christ. Tell me then who was it 
 who was baptized ? The Word or Christ ? 
 Flesh or Spirit ? You cannot possibly deny 
 that it was Christ. That man then, born of 
 man and of God, conceived by the descent 
 of the Holy Spirit upon the Virgin, and by 
 the overshadowing of the Power of the Most 
 High, and thus the Son of man and of God, 
 He it was, as you cannot deny, who was bap- 
 tized. If then it was He who was baptized, 
 it was He also who was named, for certainly 
 the Person who was baptized was the one 
 named. "This," said He, "is My beloved 
 Son, in whom I am well pleased." Could 
 anything be said with greater significance 
 or clearness ? Christ was baptized. Christ 
 went up out of the water. When Christ was 
 baptized the heavens were cpened. For 
 Christ's sake the dove descended upon Christ, 
 the Holy Spirit was present in a bodily form. 
 The Father addressed Christ. # If you ven- 
 ture to deny that this was spoken of Christ, 
 the only thing is for you to maintain that 
 Christ was not baptized, that the Spirit did 
 not descend, and that the Father did not 
 speak. But the truth itself is urgent and 
 weighs you down so that even if you will not 
 confess it, yet you cannot deny it. For what 
 says the Evangelist ? " When He was bap- 
 tized, straightway Fie went up out of the 
 water." Who was baptized ? Most certainly 
 Christ. "And behold," he says, "the heavens 
 were opened to Him." To whcm, forsooth, 
 save to Him who was baptized ? Most cer- 
 tainly to Christ. "And He saw the Spirit of 
 God descending like a dove and ccming upon 
 Him." Who saw? Christ indeed. Fpcn 
 whom did It descend ? Most certainly upon 
 Christ. " And a voice came from heaven, 
 saying" — of whom? Cf Christ indeed: for 
 what follows? "This is My beloved Sen, in 
 whom I am well pleased." In order that it 
 might be made clear on whose account all 
 this happened, there followed the voice, say- 
 ing : "This is My beloved Son," as if to say : 
 This is He on whose account all this tcok 
 place. For this is My Son : on His account 
 the heavens were opened: on His account My 
 Spirit came : on His account My voice was 
 heard. For this is My Son. In saying then 
 "This is My Son" whom did He so desig- 
 nate ? Certainly Him whom the clove touched. 
 And whom did the dove touch ? Christ in- 
 deed. Therefore Christ is the Son of God. 
 My promise is fulfilled, I fancy. Do you see 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 573 
 
 then now, O heretic, a sign given you from 
 heaven ; and not one only, but many and 
 special ones ? For there is one in the opening 
 of heaven, another in the descent of the Spirit, 
 a third in the voice of the Father. All of 
 which most clearly show that Christ is God, 
 for the laying open of the heavens indicates 
 that He is God, and the descent of the Holy 
 Spirit upon Him supports His Divinity, and 
 the address of the Father confirms it. For 
 heaven would not have been opened except 
 in honour of its Lord : nor would the Holy 
 Ghost have descended in a bodily form except 
 upon the Son of God : nor would the Father 
 have declared Him to be the Son, had he not 
 been truly such; especially with such tokens 
 of a Divine birth, as not merely to confirm the 
 truth of the right faith, but also to exclude 
 the wickedness of guilty and erroneous belief. 
 For when the Father had expressly and point- 
 edly said with the inexpressible majesty of a 
 Divine utterance, "This is My Son," He 
 added also what follows — I mean, " My be- 
 loved, in whom I am well pleased." As He 
 had already declared Him by the prophet to 
 be God the Mighty and God the Great, so 
 when He says here, "My beloved Son in 
 whom I am well pleased," He adds further 
 to the name of His own Son the title also of 
 His beloved Son, in whom He is well pleased : 
 that the addition of the titles might denote the 
 
 special properties of the Divine nature ; and 
 I that that might specially redound to the glory 
 , of the Son of God, which had never happened 
 I to any man. And so just as in the case of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ these special and unique 
 ' things happened ; viz., that the heavens were 
 opened, that in the sight of all God the Father 
 touched Him in a sort of way, through the 
 coming and presence of the dove, and pointed 
 almost with His finger to Him saying, " This 
 is My Son ; " so this too is special and unique 
 in His case ; viz., that He is specially beloved, 
 and is specially named as well-pleasing to the 
 Father, in order that these special accompani- 
 ments might mark the special import of His 
 nature, and that the special character of His 
 names might support the special position of 
 the only begotten Son, which the honour of the 
 signs previously given had already confirmed. 
 But here comes the end of this book. For 
 I this saying of God the Father can neither be 
 added to, nor equalled by any words of men. 
 For us God the Father Himself is a suffi- 
 ciently satisfactory witness concerning our 
 Lord Jesus Christ, when He says "This is My 
 , Son." If you think that it is possible for these 
 utterances of God the Father to be gainsaid, 
 , then you are forced to contradict Him, who by 
 the clearest possible announcement caused 
 Him to be acknowledged as His Son by the 
 whole world. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 That Christ was before the Incarnation God from 
 everlasting. 
 
 As we have finished three books with the 
 most certain and the most valuable witnesses, 
 whose truth is substantiated not only by human 
 but also by Divine evidences, they would 
 abundantly suffice to prove our case by Divine 
 authority, especially as the Divine authority 
 of the case itself would be enough for this. 
 But still as the whole mass of the sacred 
 Scriptures is full of these evidences, and 
 where there are so many witnesses, there are 
 so many opinions to be urged — nay where 
 Holy Scripture itself gives its witness so to 
 speak with one Divine mouth — we have 
 thought it well to add some others still, not 
 from any need of confirmation, but because of 
 the supply of material at our disposal ; so that 
 anything which might be unnecessary for pur- 
 poses of defence, might be useful by way of 
 
 ornamentation. Therefore since in the earlier 
 books we proved the Divinity of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ while He was in the flesh by the 
 evidence not only of prophets and apostles, 
 but of evangelists and angels as well, let us 
 now show that He who was born in the flesh 
 was God even before His Incarnation ; that 
 you may understand by the harmony and con- 
 cord of the evidences from the sacred Scrip- 
 tures, that you ought to believe that at His 
 birth in the body He was both God and man, 
 who before His birth was only God, and that 
 He who after He had been brought forth by 
 the Virgin in the body was God, was before 
 His birth from the Virgin, God the Word. 
 Learn then first of all from the Apostle the 
 teacher of the whole world, that He who is 
 without beginning, God, the Son of God, be- 
 came the Son of man at the end of the world, 
 i.e., in the fulness of the times. For he says : 
 " But when the fulness of the times was come, 
 God sent His Son, made of a woman, made 
 
574 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 under the law." 1 Tell me then, before the 
 Lord Jesus Christ was born of His mother 
 Mary, had God a Son or had He not ? You 
 cannot deny that He had, for never yet was 
 there either a son without a father, or a 
 father without a son : because as a son is 
 so called with reference to a father, so is a 
 father so named with reference to a son. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 He infers from what he has said that the Virgin Mary gave 
 birth to a Son who had pre-existed and was greater than she 
 herself was. 
 
 You see then that when the Apostle says 
 that God sent His Son, it was His own Son, 
 to use the actual words of the Apostle, " His 
 own Son" that God sent. For, since He sent 
 His own Son, it was not some one else's Son 
 that He sent, nor could He send Him at all 
 if He who was sent had no existence. He 
 sent then, he says, " His own Son, made of a 
 woman." Therefore because He sent Him, 
 He sent one who existed : and because He 
 sent His own, it certainly was not another's 
 but His own whom He sent. What then be- 
 comes of that argument of yours drawn from 
 this world's subtleties ? No one ever yet gave 
 birth to one who had already existed before. 
 For had not the Lord a pre-existence before 
 Mary? Was not the Son of God existent 
 before the daughter of man ? In a word did 
 not God Himself exist before man — since cer- 
 tainly there is no man who is not from God. 
 You see then that I do not merely say that 
 Mary gave birth to one who had existed be- 
 fore her, not only, I say, one who had existed 
 before her, but one who was the author of 
 her being, and that in giving birth to her Cre- 
 ator, she became the mother of Him who gave 
 her being : because it was as simple for Gcd 
 to bring about birth for Himself as for man, 
 and as easy for Him to arrange that He Him- 
 self should be born of mankind, as that a man 
 should be born. For the power of God is not 
 limited in regard to His own Person, as if 
 what was allowable to Him in the case of all 
 others, was not allowable in His own case, and 
 as if He who in the Divine nature could do all 
 things as God, was yet unable in His own Per- 
 son to become God in man. Setting aside then 
 and rejecting your foolish and feeble and dull 
 arguments from earthly things, we ought merely 
 to put credence in straightforward evidence 
 and the naked truth, and to adapt our faith to 
 those witnesses of God alone, whom God sent, 
 
 and in whose person He Himself, so to speak, 
 preached. For it is right to believe Him in a 
 matter concerning knowledge of Himself, as 
 everything that we know of Him comes from 
 Him Himself, for God could not possibly be 
 known of men, unless He Himself gave us the 
 knowledge of Himself. And so it is right that 
 we should believe everything of Him that we 
 know, from whom comes everything that we 
 know, for if we do not believe Him from whom 
 our knowledge comes, the result will be that 
 we shall know nothing at all, since we refuse 
 to believe Him, through whom our knowledge 
 comes. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 He proves from the Epistle to the Romans the eternal 
 Divinity of Christ. 
 
 And so as it is clear from the above testi- 
 mony that God sent His own Son, and that 
 He who was ever the Son of God became the 
 Son of man, let us see whether the same 
 Apostle gives any other testimony of the same 
 sort elsewhere, that the truth which is already 
 clear enough in itself, may be rendered still 
 more clear by the light of a twofold testimony. 
 So then- the same Apostle says: "God sent 
 His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh." 2 
 You see that the Apostle certainly did not 
 use these words by chance or at random, as 
 he repeated what he had already said once 
 — for indeed there could not be found in him 
 chance or want of consideration as the fulness 
 of Divine counsel and speech had taken up its 
 abode in him. What then does he say? " God 
 sent His own Son in the likeness of sinful 
 flesh." He says the same thing again and re- 
 peats it, saying, " God sent His own Son." 
 Oh renowned and excellent teacher ! for 
 knowing that in this is contained the whole 
 mystery 3 of the Catholic faith, in order that it 
 might be believed that the Lord was born in 
 the flesh and that the Son of God was sent into 
 this world, again and again he makes the same 
 proclamation saying, " God sent His own 
 Son." Nor need we wonder that he who was 
 specially sent to preach the coming of God, 
 made this announcement, since even before 
 the law, the giver of the law himself proclaimed 
 it, saying : " I beseech Thee, O Lord, provide 
 another whom Thou mayest send," or as it 
 stands still more clearly in the Hebrew text : 
 " I beseech Thee, O Lord, send whom Thou 
 wilt send." 4 It is clear that the holy prophet, 
 
 1 Gal. iv. 4. 
 
 2 Rom. viii. 3. 3 Sacramenttim. 
 
 * Exod. iv. 13. Where the LXX. has Aeo/xai. xvpie, Trpoxei'p'O'ai 
 Swa/ievov aAAoi' ov a.irotne\el<;, which was followed by the old 
 Latin. Jerome however rendered the passage correctly from the 
 Hebrew: " obsecro, Domine, mitte quem misurus es." Cf. the 
 note on the Institutes, XII. xxxi. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 575 
 
 feeling in himself a yearning for the whole 
 human race, prayed as it were with the voices 
 of all mankind to God the Father that He 
 would send as speedily as possible Him who 
 was to be sent by the Father for the redemp- 
 tion and salvation of all men, when he said, 
 " I beseech Thee, O Lord, send whom Thou 
 wilt send." " God," he therefore says, " sent 
 His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh." 
 Full well, when he says that He was sent in 
 the flesh, does he exclude for Him sin of the 
 flesh : for he says "God sent His own Son in 
 the likeness of the flesh of sin," in order that 
 we may know that though the flesh was truly 
 taken, yet there was no true sin, and that, as 
 far as the body is concerned, we should under- 
 stand that there was reality ; as far as sin is 
 concerned, only the likeness of sin. For though 
 all flesh is sinful, yet He had flesh without 
 sin, and had in Himself the likeness of sinful 
 flesh, while He was in the flesh : but He was 
 free from what was truly sin, because He was 
 without sin : and therefore he says : " God 
 sent His own Son in the likeness of sinful 
 flesh." 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 He brings forward other testimonies to the same view. 
 
 If you would know how admirably the 
 Apostle preached this, hear how this utter- 
 ance was put into his mouth ; as if from the 
 mouth of God Himself, as the Lord says : 
 " For God sent not His Son into the world to 
 judge the world, but that the world might be 
 saved through Him." : For lo, as you see, 
 the Lord Himself affirms that He was sent by 
 God the Father to save mankind. But if you 
 think that it ought to be shown still more 
 clearly, what Son God sent to save men, — 
 though God's own and only begotten can only 
 be one, and when God is said to have sent 
 His Son, He is certainly shown to have sent 
 His only begotten Son, — - yet hear the prophet 
 David pointing out with the utmost clear- 
 ness Him who was sent for the salvation of Men. 
 " He sent," said he, " His Word and healed 
 them." 2 Can you twist this so as to refer it to 
 the flesh as if you could say that a mere man 
 was sent by God to heal mankind ? You cer- 
 tainly cannot, for the prophet David and all 
 the holy Scriptures would cry out against you, 
 saying, "He sent His Word and healed them." 
 You see then, that the Word was sent to heal 
 men, for though healing was given through 
 Christ, yet the Word of God was in Christ, 
 and healed all things through Christ : and so 
 
 1 S. John iii. 17. 
 
 3 Ps. cvi. (cvii.) 20. 
 
 since Christ and the Word were united in the 
 mystery of the Incarnation, Christ and the 
 Word of God became one Son of God in 
 either substance. And when the Apostle 
 John was anxious to state this clearly, he said 
 " God sent His Son to be the Saviour of the 
 world." 3 Do you see how he joined together 
 God and man in an union that cannot be 
 severed ? For Christ who was born of Mary 
 is without the slightest doubt called Saviour, 
 as it is said, " For to you is born this day a 
 Saviour, which is Christ the Lord." 4 But here 
 he calls the very Word of God, which was sent, 
 a Saviour, saying : " God sent his Son to be 
 the Saviour of the world." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 How in virtue of the hypostatic union of the two natures in 
 Christ the Word is rightly termed the Saviour, or incarnate 
 man, and the Son of God. 
 
 And so it is clear that through the mystery 
 of the Word of God joined to man, the Word, 
 which was sent to save men, can be termed 
 Saviour, and the Saviour, who was born in the 
 flesh, can through union with the Word be 
 called the Son of God ; and so through the 
 indifferent use of either title, since God is 
 joined to man, whatever is God and man, can 
 be termed altogether God. 5 And so the same 
 Apostle well adds the words : " Whoever be- 
 lieveth that Jesus is the Son of God, God 
 abideth in him, and the love of God is per- 
 fected in him." 6 He tells us that he believes, 
 and declares that he is filled with divine love, 
 who believes that Jesus is the Son of God. 
 But he testifies that the Word of God is the 
 Son of God, and thus means us fully to under- 
 stand that the only begotten Word of God, 
 and Jesus Christ the Son of God are one and 
 the same Person. But do you want to be told 
 more fully that, — though Christ according to 
 the flesh was truly born as man of man, — yet 
 in virtue of the ineffable unity of the mystery, 
 by which man was joined to God, there is no 
 separation between Christ and the Word ? Hear 
 the gospel of the Lord, or rather hear the Lord 
 
 3 1 John iv. 14. 4 S. Luke ii. 11. 
 
 5 Cf. Hooker Eccl: Polity., Book V. c. liii. §4. "A kind of mu- 
 tual commutation there is whereby those concrete names, God and 
 man, when we speak of Christ, do take interchangeably one an- 
 other's room, so that for truth of speech it skilleth not whether we 
 say that the Son of God hath created the world, and the Son of 
 man by His death hath saved it, or else that the Son of man did 
 create, and the Son of God die to save the world. Howbeit as oft 
 as we attribute to God what the manhood of Christ claimeth, or to 
 man what His Deity hath right unto, we understand by the name of 
 God and the name of man neither the one nor the other nature, but 
 the whole person of Christ, in whom both natures are." The tech- 
 nical phrase by which this interchange of names is described is the 
 Communicatio idiomatum, and in Greek avri&ocn';. Cf . Pearson on 
 the Creed, Art. IV. c. i. 
 
 6 1 John iv. 12. 
 
576 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 Himself saying of Himself: * "This," says He, 
 "is life eternal, that they may know Thee, the 
 only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou 
 hast sent." 2 You heard above that the Word 
 of God was sent to heal mankind : here you 
 are told that He who Avas sent is Jesus Christ. 
 Separate this, if you can, — though you see 
 that so great is the unity of Christ and the 
 Word, that it was not merely that Christ was 
 united with the Word, but that in virtue of the 
 actual unity [of Person] Christ may even be 
 said to be the Word. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 That there is in Christ but one Hypostasis (i.e., Personal 
 self). 
 
 But perhaps you think it a trifle to make 
 this clear : not because it fails in clearness, 
 but because the obscurity of unbelief always 
 causes obscurity even in what is clear. Hear 
 then how the Apostle sums up in a few words 
 this whole mystery of the Lord's unity [of 
 Person]. "Our one Lord Jesus Christ," he 
 says, " by whom are all things." 3 O good 
 Jesus, what weight there is in Thy words ! 
 For Thine they are, when spoken of Thee by 
 Thine own. See how much is embraced in 
 the few words of this saying of the Apostle's. 
 "One Lord," says he, "Jesus Christ, by whom 
 are all things." Did he make use of any cir- 
 cumlocution in order to proclaim the truth of 
 this great mystery ? 4 or did he make a long 
 story of that which he wanted us to grasp ? 
 "Oar one Lord," he says, "Jesus Christ, by 
 whom are all things." In a plain and short 
 phrase he taught the secret of this great mys- 
 tery, through this confidence by which he 
 realized that in what refers to God his state- 
 ments had no need of lengthened arguments, 
 and that the Divinity added faith to his utter- 
 ances. For the demonstration of facts is 
 enough to confirm what is said, whenever the 
 proof rests on the authority of the speaker. 
 There is then, he siys, "one Lord Jesus 
 Christ, by whom are all things." Notice how 
 you read the same thing of the Word of the 
 Father, which you read of Christ. For the 
 gospel tells us that " All things were made 
 by Him, and without Him was not anything 
 made." 5 The Apostle says, " By Christ are all 
 things : " the gospel says, " By the Word are 
 all things." Do these sacred utterances con- 
 tradict each other ? Most certainly not. But 
 by Christ, by whom the Apostle said that all 
 
 1 De se dicentem (Petschenig) : Gazaens reads descendentem. 
 
 2 S John xvii. 3. * Tanti mysterii sacramentum. 
 
 3 1 Cor. viii. 6. 6 S. John i. 3. 
 
 things were created, and by the Word, by 
 whom the Evangelist relates that all thing's 
 were made, we are meant to understand one 
 and the same Person. Hear, I tell you, what 
 the Word of God, Himself God, has said of 
 Himself. "No man," he saith, " hath ascended 
 into heaven, save He who came down from 
 heaven, even the Son of man, who is in 
 heaven." 6 And again He says : " If ye shall 
 see the Son of man ascending where He was 
 before." 7 He said that the Son of man was 
 in heaven : He asserted that the Son of man 
 had come down from heaven. What does it 
 mean ? Why are you muttering ? Deny it, if 
 you can. But do you ask the reason of what 
 is said ? However I do not give it you. God 
 has said this. God has spoken this to me : 
 His Word is the best reason. I get rid of 
 arguments and discussions. The Person of the 
 Speaker alone is enough to make me believe. 
 I may not debate about the trustworthiness of 
 what is said, nor discuss it. Why should I 
 question whether what God has said is true, 
 since I ought not to doubt that what Gcd says 
 is true. " No man," He says, "hath ascended 
 into heaven, save He who came down frcm 
 heaven, even the Son of man, who is in 
 heaven." Certainly the Word of the Father 
 was ever in heaven : and how did He assert 
 that the Son of man was ever in heaven ? You 
 are then to understand that He showed that 
 He who was ever the Son of God was also the 
 Son of man : when He asserted that He, who 
 had but recently appeared as the Sen of man, 
 Avas ever in heaven. To this points still mere 
 that other passage in Avhich He testifies that 
 the same Son of man ; viz., the Word of Gcd 
 Avho, as He said, came down from heaven, 
 even at the time when He was speaking on 
 earth, Avas in heaven. For "no man," He 
 said, "hath ascended into heaven, save HeAvhc 
 came doAvn from heaven, e\ T en the Son of man 
 who is in heaven." Who, I pray you, is this 
 Avho is speaking ? Assuredly it is Christ. 
 But Avhere Avas He at the moment Avhen He 
 spoke ? Assuredly on earth. And how can 
 He assert that He came doAvn from heaven 
 when He Avas born, and that He Avas in heaven 
 when He was speaking, or say that He is the 
 same Son of man, when certainly no one but 
 God can come doAvn from heaven, and when 
 He speaks on earth, and certainly cannot be 
 in heaven except through the Infinite nature 
 of God? Consider then this at last, and note 
 that the Son of man is the same Person as the 
 Word of God: for He is the Son of man since 
 He is truly born of man, and the Word of 
 God, since He who speaks on earth abideth 
 
 6 S. John iii. 13. 
 
 S John vi. 63. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 577 
 
 ever in heaven. And so when He truly terms 
 Himself the Son of man, it refers to His 
 human birth, while the fact that He never 
 departs from heaven, refers to the Infinite 
 character of His Divine nature. And so the 
 Apostle's teaching is admirably in accordance 
 with those sacred words : (" for He that de- 
 scended," says He, " is the same that ascended 
 also above all heavens, that He might fill all 
 things," l ) when He says that He that de- 
 scended is the same that ascended. But none 
 can descend from heaven except the Word of 
 God : who certainly " being in the form of God, 
 emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant, 
 being made in the likeness of men, and being 
 found in fashion as a man, He humbled Him- 
 self, and became obedient unto death, even the 
 death of the Cross." 2 Thus the Word of God 
 descended from heaven ; but the Son of man 
 ascended. But He says that the same Person 
 ascended and descended. Thus you see that 
 the Son of man is the same Person as the 
 Word of God. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 He returns to the former subject, in order to show against the 
 Nestorians that those things are said of the man, which be- 
 long to the Divine nature as it were of a Person of Divine 
 nature, and conversely that those things are said of God, 
 which belong to the human nature as it were of a Person of 
 human nature, because there is in Christ but one and a 
 single Personal self. 
 
 And so following the guidance of the sacred 
 word we may now say fearlessly and unhesi- 
 tatingly that the Son of man came down from 
 heaven, and that the Lord of Glory was cruci- 
 fied : because in virtue of the mystery of the 
 Incarnation, the Son of God became Son of 
 man, and the Lord of Glory was crucified in 
 (the nature of) the Son of man. 3 What more 
 is there need of ? It would take too long 
 to go into details: for time would fail me, 
 were I to try to examine and explain every- 
 thing which could be brought to bear on this 
 subject. For one who wished to do this 
 would have to study and read the whole Bible. 
 For what is there which does not bear on this, 
 
 1 Eph. iv. 10. 2 Phil. ii. 6-8. 
 
 3 See Hooker as above (V. liii. 4) "When the Apostle saith of 
 the Jews that they crucified the Lord of Glory, and when the Son 
 of man being on earth affirmeth that the Son of man was in heaven 
 at the same instant, there is in these two speeches that mutual cir- 
 culation before mentioned. In the one, there is attributed to God 
 or the Lord of Glory death, whereof Divine nature is not capable ; 
 in the other ubiquity unto man which human nature admitteth not. 
 Therefore by the Lord of Glory we must needs understand the 
 whole person of Christ, who being Lord of Glory, was indeed 
 crucified, but not in that nature for which he is termed the Lord of 
 Glory. In like nfenner by the Son of man the whole person of 
 Christ must necessarily be meant, who being man upon earth, filled 
 heaven with his glorious presence, but not according to that nature 
 for which the title of man is given Him." 
 
 when all Scripture was written with reference 
 to this ? We must then say — as far as can be 
 said — some things briefly and cursorily, and 
 enumerate rather than explain them, and sac- 
 rifice some to save the rest, as for this reason 
 it would certainly be well hurriedly to run 
 through some points, lest one should be 
 obliged 4 to pass over almost everything in 
 silence. The Saviour then in the gospel says 
 that " the Son of man is come to save what 
 was lost." 5 And the Apostle says : " This is 
 a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptation ; 
 that Christ Jesus came into the world to save 
 sinners, of whom I am chief." ° But the Evan- 
 gelist John also says : " He came unto his own, 
 and His own received Him not." 7 You see 
 then that Scripture says in one place that the 
 Son of man, in another Jesus Christ, in an- 
 other the Word of God came into the world. 
 And so we must hold that the difference is 
 one of title not of fact, and that under the 
 appearance of different names there is but one 
 Power [or Person]. For though at one time 
 we are told that the Son of man, and at an- 
 other that the Son of God came into the 
 world, but one Person is meant under both 
 names. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 How this interchange of titles does not interfere with His 
 Divine power. 
 
 For certainly when the evangelist says that 
 He came into the world by whom the world 
 itself was made, and that He was made the Son 
 of man, who is as God the creator of the 
 world, it makes no difference what particular 
 title is used, as God in all cases is meant. 
 For His condescension and will do not inter- 
 fere with His Divinity, since they the rather 
 prove His Divinity, because whatever He 
 willed came to pass. Therefore also because 
 He willed it, He came into the world ; and 
 because He willed it, He was born a man ; 
 and because He willed it, He was termed the 
 Son of man. For just as there are so many 
 words, so are they powers belonging to God. 
 The variety of names in Him does not take 
 anything away from the efficacy of His power. 
 Whatever may be the names given Him, in all 
 cases it is one and the same Person. Though 
 there may be some variety in the appearance 
 of His titles, yet there is but a single Divine 
 Person (Majestas) meant by all the names. 
 
 4 Ne necesse sit (Petschenig). 
 
 5 S. Luke xix. 10. 
 
 6 1 Tim. i. 15. 
 
 7 S. John i. 11. 
 
578 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 He corroborates this statement by the authority of the old 
 prophets. 
 
 But since up to this point we have made 
 use more particularly of the witness, compara- 
 tively new, of evangelists and apostles, now 
 let us bring forward the testimony of the old 
 prophets, intermingling at times new things 
 with old, that everybody may see that the holy 
 Scriptures proclaim as it were with one mouth 
 that Christ was to come in the flesh, with a 
 body of His own complete. And so that far- 
 famed and renowned prophet as richly en- 
 dowed with God's gifts as with his testimony, 
 to whom alone it was given to be sanctified 
 before His birth, 1 Jeremiah, says, "This is 
 our Lord, and there shall no other be ac- 
 counted of in comparison with Him. He 
 found out all the way of knowledge and gave 
 it to Jacob His servant and Israel His be- 
 loved. Afterwards He was seen upon earth 
 and conversed with men." 2 " This is," then, 
 he says, " our God." You see how the 
 prophet points to God as it were with his 
 hand, and indicates Him as it were with his 
 finger. "This is," he says, " our God." Tell 
 me then, who was it that the prophet showed 
 by these signs and tokens to be God ? Surely 
 it was not the Father ? For what need was 
 there that He should be pointed out, whom 
 all believed that they knew ? For even then 
 the Jews were not ignorant of God, for they 
 were living under God's law. But he was 
 clearly aiming at this, that they might come to 
 know the Son of God as God. And so excel- 
 lently did the Prophet say that He who had 
 found out all knowledge, i.e., had given the 
 law, was to be seen upon earth, i.e., was to 
 come in the flesh, in order that, as the Jews 
 did not doubt that He who had given the law 
 was- God, they might recognize that He who 
 was to come in the flesh was God, ^specially 
 since they heard that He, in whom they be- 
 lieved as God the giver of the law, was to be 
 seen among men by taking upon Him man- 
 hood, as He Himself promises His own advent 
 by the prophet : " For I myself that spoke, 
 behold I am here." 3 " There shall then," 
 says the Scriptures, " be no other accounted of 
 
 i Cf. Jer. i. 5. 
 
 2 The passage comes not from Jeremiah, but from Baruch (iii. 36- 
 38). It is also quoted as from Jeremiah by Augustine (c. Faustin. 
 xii. c. 43) : and in the LXX. version the book of Baruch is placed 
 among the works of Jeremiah, e.g., In both the Vatican and Alex- 
 andrine MSS. they stand in the following order: (1) Jeremiah, (2) 
 Baruch, (3) Lamentations, (4) the Epistle of Jeremy (Baruch c.vi. in 
 A. V.). The passage which Cassiau here quotes is constantly ap- 
 pealed to by both Greek and Latin Fathers, as a prophecy of the 
 Incarnation. See e.g. S. Augustine (I.e.) S. Chrysost. " Ecloga" 
 Horn, xxxiv. Rufinus in. Symb. § 5. 
 
 3 Isa. Iii. 6. 
 
 in comparison of Him." Beautifully does the 
 prophet here foresee false teaching, and so ex- 
 clude the interpretations of heretical perverse- 
 ness. " There shall no other be accounted of 
 in comparison of Him." For He is alone be- 
 gotten to be God of God : at whose bidding 
 the completion of the universe followed : whose 
 will is the beginning of things : whose empire 
 is the fabric of the world : who spake all things, 
 and they came to pass : commanded all things, 
 and they were created. He then alone it is 
 who spake to the patriarchs, dwelt in the 
 prophets, was conceived by the Spirit, born of 
 the Virgin Mary, appeared in the world, lived 
 among men, fastened to the wood of the cross 
 the handwriting of our offences, triumphed in 
 Himself, 4 slew by His death the powers that 
 were at enmity and hostile to us ; and gave to 
 all men belief in the resurrection, and by the 
 glory of His body put an end to the corruption 
 of man's flesh. You see then that all these 
 belong to the Lord Jesus Christ alone : and 
 therefore no other shall be accounted of in 
 comparison with Him, for He alone is God be- 
 gotten of God in this glory and unique bless- 
 edness. This then is what the prophet's 
 teaching was aiming at ; viz., that He might 
 be known by all men to be the only begotten 
 Son of God the Father, and that when they 
 heard that no other was accounted of as God 
 in comparison with the Son, they might con- 
 fess that there was but one God in the Persons 
 of the Father and the Son. " After this," he 
 said, " He was seen upon earth and conversed 
 with men." You see how plainly this points 
 to the advent and nativity of the Lord. For 
 surely the Father — of whom we read that He 
 can only be seen in the Son — was not seen 
 upon earth, nor born in the flesh, nor con- 
 versed with men ? Most certainly not. You 
 see then that all this is spoken of the Son of 
 God. For since the prophet said that God 
 should be seen upon earth, and no other but 
 the Son was seen upon earth, it is clear that 
 the prophet said this only of Him, of whom 
 facts afterwards proved that it was spoken. 
 For when He said that God should be seen, 
 He could not say this truly, except of Him 
 who was indeed afterwards seen. But enough 
 of this. Now let us turn to another point. 
 "The labour of Egypt," says the prophet 
 Isaiah, " and the merchandise of Ethiopia and 
 of the Sabasans, men of stature, shall come 
 over to thee and shall be thy servants. They 
 shall walk after thee, bound with manacles, 
 and they shall worship thee, and they shall 
 make supplication to thee : for in thee is God, 
 and there is no God beside thee. For thou 
 
 4 Cf. Col. ii. 14, 15. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 579 
 
 art our God and we knew thee not, O God of 
 Israel the Saviour." 1 How wonderfully con- 
 sistent the Holy Scriptures always are ! For 
 the first mentioned prophet said, " This is our 
 God," and this one says, " Thou art our God." 
 In the one there is the teaching of Divinity, in 
 the other the confession of men. The one 
 exhibits the character of the Master teaching, 
 the other that of the people confessing. For 
 consider now the prophet Jeremiah daily teach- 
 ing, as he does, in the church, and saying of 
 the Lord Jesus Christ, "This is our God," 
 what else could the whole Church reply, as it 
 does, than what the other prophet said to the 
 Lord Jesus, "Thou art our God." So that 
 full well could the mention of their past igno- 
 rance be joined to their present acknowledg- 
 ment, in the words of the people : " Thou art 
 our God, and we knew thee not." For well 
 can these who, in times past being taken up 
 with the superstitions of devils did not know 
 God, yet when now converted to the faith say, 
 " Thou art our God, and we knew thee not." 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 He proves Christ's Divinity from the blasphemy of Judaizing 
 Jews as well as from the confession of converts to the faith 
 of Christ. 
 
 But if you would like to have this proved 
 to you rather from representatives of the Jews, 
 consider the Jewish people when after their 
 unhappy ignorance and wicked persecution 
 they were converted, and acknowledged God 
 here and there, and see whether they could 
 not rightly say, " Thou art our God, and we 
 knew Thee not." But I will add something 
 else, to prove it to you not only from those 
 Jews who confess Him, but also from those 
 who deny Him. For ask those Jews who still 
 continue in their state of unbelief whether 
 they know or believe in God. They will cer- 
 tainly confess that they both know and believe 
 in Flim. But on the other hand ask them 
 whether they believe in the Son of God. They 
 will at once deny and begin to blaspheme 
 against Him. You see then that the Prophet 
 said this of Him of whom the Jews have 
 always been ignorant, and whom now they 
 know not ; and not of Him whom they imagine 
 that they believe in and confess. And so full 
 well can those, who after having been in igno- 
 rance come out of Judaism to the faith, say, 
 "Thou art our God, and we knew Thee not." 
 For rightly do those, who after having been 
 ignorant come to believe, say that they knew 
 not Him in whom up to this time they have 
 not believed, and whom they strive not to 
 
 1 Isa. xiv. 14, 15. 
 
 know. For it is clear that those who after 
 their previous ignorance come to confess Him, 
 say that formerly they knew Him not, whom 
 up to this time they have ignorantly denied. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 He returns to the prophecy of Isaiah. 
 
 "The labour," says he, "of Egypt, and the 
 merchandize of Ethiopia, and the Sabaeans, 
 men of stature shall come over to thee." No 
 one can doubt that in these names of different 
 nations is signified the coming of the nations 
 who were to believe. But you cannot deny 
 that the nations have come over to Christ, for 
 since the name of Christianity has arisen, they 
 have come over to the Lord Jesus Christ not 
 only in faith but actually in name. For since 
 they are called what they really are, that which 
 was the work of faith becomes the token by 
 which they are named. " They shall," he says, 
 "come over to thee and shall be thine: they 
 shall walk after thee bound with manacles." 
 As there are chains of coercion, so too there 
 are chains of love, as the Lord says : " I drew 
 them with chains of love." 2 For indeed great 
 are these chains, and chains of ineffable love, 
 for those who are bound with them rejoice in 
 their fetters. Do you want to know whether 
 this is true ? Hear how the Apostle Paul 
 exults and rejoices in his chains, when he 
 says : " I therefore a prisoner in the Lord be- 
 seech you." 3 And again: "I beseech thee, 
 whereas thou art such an one as Paul the aged, 
 and now a prisoner also of Jesus Christ." 4 
 You see how he rejoiced in the dignity of his 
 chains, by the example of which he actually 
 stirred up others. But there can be no doubt 
 that where there is single-minded love of the 
 Lord, there is also single-minded delight in 
 chains worn for the Lord's sake : as it is writ- 
 ten: " But the multitude of the believers was 
 of one heart and one soul." 5 "And they 
 shall worship thee," he says, " and shall make 
 supplication to thee : for in thee is God, and 
 there is no God beside thee." The Apostle 
 clearly explains the prophet's words, when he 
 says that " God was in Christ reconciling the 
 world to Himself." G " In Thee then," he says, 
 " is God and there is no God beside thee." 
 When the prophet says " In Thee is God," 
 most admirably does he point not merely to 
 Him who was visible, but to Him who was in 
 what was visible, distinguishing the indweller 
 from Him in whom He dwelt, by pointing out 
 the two natures, not by denying the unity (of 
 Person). 
 
 2 Hosea xi. 4. 
 
 3 Eph. iv. 1. 
 
 4 Philemon, ver. 9. 
 
 5 Acts iv. 32. 
 
 Cor. v. 19. 
 
5 So 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 How the title of Saviour is given to Christ in one sense, and 
 to men in another. 
 
 " Thou," he says, " art our God, and we 
 knew Thee not, O God of Israel the Sav- 
 iour." Although holy Scripture has already 
 shown by many and clear tokens, who is here 
 spoken of, yet it has most plainly pointed to 
 the name of Christ by using the name of Sav- 
 iour: for surely the Saviour is the same as 
 Christ, as the angel says : " For to you is 
 born this day a Saviour who is Christ the 
 Lord." 1 For everybody knows that in Heb- 
 rew "Jesus" means "Saviour," as the angel 
 announced to the holy Virgin Mary, saying : 
 " And thou shalt call His name Jesus, for He 
 it is that shall save His people from their 
 sins." 2 And that you may not say that He is 
 termed Saviour in the same sense as the title 
 is given to others ("And the Lord raised up to 
 them a Saviour, Othniel the Son of Kenaz," 3 
 and again, " the Lord raised up to them a 
 Saviour, Ehud the son of Gera " *), he added : 
 "for He it is that shall save His people from 
 their sins." But it does not lie in the power 
 of a man to redeem his people from the cap- 
 tivity of sin, — a thing which is only possible 
 for Him of whom it is said, "Behold the Lamb 
 of God, which taketh away the sin of the 
 world." 5 For the others saved a people not 
 their own but God's, and not from their sins, 
 but from their enemies. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 He explains who are those in whose person the Prophet 
 Isaiah says : " Thou art our God, and we knew Thee not.'' 
 
 "Thou art then," he says, "our God, and 
 we knew Thee not, O God of Israel the Sav- 
 iour." Who do you imagine chiefly say this; 
 and in whose mouths are such words specially 
 suitable, Jews or Gentiles ? If you say Jews : 
 certainly the Jews did not know Christ, as it 
 is said, " But Israel hath not known Me, My 
 people have not considered ; " 6 and, " The 
 world was made by Him, and the world knew 
 Him not. He came unto His own, and His 
 
 own received Him not." 7 But if you say 
 Gentiles, it is clear that the Gentile world was 
 given over to idols, and knew not Christ, 
 though it knew not the Father any more ; but 
 still if it has now come to know Him, it is only 
 through Christ. You see then that whether 
 the believing people belong to the Jews or the 
 Gentiles, in either case they can truly say for 
 themselves : "Thou art our God, and we knew 
 Thee not, O God of Israel the Saviour." For 
 the Gentiles who formerly worshipped idols 
 knew not God ; and the Jews who denied the 
 Lord, knew not the Son of God. And thus 
 both truly say of Christ : " Thou art our God 
 and we knew Thee not." For those who did 
 not believe in God were as ignorant of Him as 
 those who denied the Son of God. If there- 
 fore Christ is to be believed in, as the truth 
 declares, as the Deity asserts, as indeed Christ 
 Himself declares, who is both, why are you 
 miserably trying in your madness to interpose 
 between God and Christ ? Why do you seek 
 to divide His body from the Son of God, and 
 try to separate God from Himself? You are 
 severing what is one, and dividing what is 
 joined together. Believe the Word of God 
 concerning God : for you cannot possibly make 
 a better confession of God"s Divinity than by 
 confessing with your voice that which God 
 teaches about Himself. For you must know 
 that, as the Prophet says, "the Lord Himself 
 is God, who found out all the way of know- 
 ledge ; who was seen upon earth and conversed 
 with men." 8 He brought the light of faith 
 into the world. He showed the light of salva- 
 tion. " For God is the Lord, and hath given 
 us light." 9 Then believe Him, and love Him, 
 and confess Him. For since, as it is written, 
 " Every knee shall bow to Him, of things in 
 heaven, and things on earth, and things under 
 the earth, and every tongue shall confess that 
 Jesus Christ is Lord in the glory of God the 
 Father," 10 whether you will or no, you cannot 
 deny that Jesus Christ is Lord in the glory of 
 God the Father. For this is the crowning 
 virtue of a perfect confession, to acknowledge 
 that Jesus Christ is ever Lord and God in the 
 glory of God the Father. 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 CHAPTER I. | ism, strives and contends in ever)' way to make 
 
 it believed that the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son 
 of God, when born of the Virgin was only a 
 mere man ; and that having afterwards taken 
 We said in the first book that that heresy the path of virtue He merited by His holy 
 which copies and follows the lead of Pelagian- and pious life to be counted worthy for this 
 
 He vehemently inveighs against the error of the Pelagians 
 who declared that Christ was a mere man. 
 
 1 S. Luke ii. n. 
 
 2 S. Matt. i. 2i. 
 
 3 Judges iii. g. 
 * Ii. ver. 15. 
 
 5 S. John i. 29. 
 
 6 Isa. i. 3. 
 
 7 S. John i. 11. 
 
 8 Baruch iii. 37, 38. 
 
 9 Ps. cxvii. (cviii.) 27. 
 10 Phil. ii. 10, 11. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 holiness of His life that the Divine Majesty- 
 should unite Itself to Him : and thus by cut- 
 ting off altogether from Him the honour of 
 His sacred origin, it only left to Him the selec- 
 tion on account of His merits. 1 And their 
 aim and endeavour was this ; viz., that, by 
 bringing Him down to the level of common 
 men, and making Him one of the common 
 herd, they might assert that all men could by 
 their good life and deeds secure whatever He 
 had secured by His good life. 2 A most dan- 
 gerous and deadly assertion indeed, which takes 
 away what truly belongs to God, and holds 
 out false promises 'to men; and which should 
 be condemned for abominable lies on both 
 sides, since it attacks God with wicked blas- 
 phemy, and gives to men the hope of a false 
 assurance. A most perverse and wicked asser- 
 tion as it gives to men what does not belong to 
 them, and takes away from God what is His. 
 And so of this dangerous and deadly evil this 
 new heresy which has recently sprung up, 3 is 
 in a way stirring and reviving the embers, and 
 raising a fresh flame from its ancient ashes : 
 by asserting that our Lord Jesus Christ was 
 born a mere man. And so why is there any 
 need for us to ask whether its consequences 
 are dangerous, as in its fountain head it is 
 utterly wrong. It is unnecessary to examine 
 what it is like in its issues, as in its commence- 
 ment it leaves us no reason for examination. 
 For what object is there in inquiring whether 
 like the earlier heresy, it holds out the same 
 promises to man, if (which is the most awful 
 sin) it takes away the same things from God ? 
 So that it would be almost wrong, when we see 
 what it begins like, to ask what there is to fol- 
 low ; as if some possible way might appear in 
 the sequel, in which a man who denies God, 
 could prove that he was not irreligious. The 
 new heresy then, as we have already many times 
 declared, says that the Lord Jesus Christ was 
 born of the Virgin Mary, only a mere man : and 
 so that Mary should be called Christotocos 
 not Theotocos, because she was the mother of 
 Christ, not of God. And further to this blas- 
 phemous statement it adds arguments that are 
 as wicked as they are foolish, saying, " No one 
 ever gave birth to one who was before her." 
 
 1 See above Book I. cc. ii. iii. 
 
 2 See below Book VI. c. xiv. For the twofold error of Pelagi- 
 anism cf. a striking article on " Theodore of Mopsuestia and Modern 
 Thought " in the Church Quarterly Review, vol. i. See esp. p. 135 ; 
 where, speaking of Pelagianism, the writer says: "As the hypo- 
 static union was denied, lest it should derogate from the ethical 
 completeness of Christ, so the efficacious working of grace must be 
 explained awav lest it should derogate from the moral dignity of 
 Christians. The divine and human elements must be kept as jea- 
 lously apart in the moral life of the members as in the person of the 
 Head ofthe Church. In the ultimate analysis it must be proved 
 that the initial movement in every good action came from the human 
 will itself, though when this was allowed, the grace of Clod might 
 receive, by an exact process of assessment, its due share of credit 
 for the result." 
 
 3 Viz., Nestorianism. 
 
 As if the birth of the only begotten of God, 
 predicted by prophets, announced since the 
 beginning of the world, could be dealt with or 
 measured by human reasons. Or did the Vir- 
 gin Mary, O you heretic, whoever you are, who 
 slander her for her childbearing — bring about 
 and consummate that which came to pass, by 
 her own strength, so that in a matter and 
 event of so great importance, human weak- 
 ness can be brought as an objection ? And 
 so if there was anything in this great event 
 which was the work of man, look for human 
 arguments. But if everything, which was done, 
 was due to the power of God, why should you 
 consider what is impossible with men, when 
 you see that it is the work of Divine power? 
 But of this more anon. Now let us follow up 
 the subject we began to treat of some little 
 way back; that everybody may know that you 
 are trying to fan the flame in the ashes of 
 Pelagianism, and to revive the embers by 
 breathing out fresh blasphemy. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 That the doctrine of Nestorius is closely connected with the 
 error of the Pelagians. 
 
 You say then that Christ was born a mere 
 man. But certainly this was asserted by that 
 wicked heresy of Pelagius, as we clearly 
 showed in the first book ; viz., that Christ was 
 born a mere man. You add besides, that 
 Jesus Christ the Lord of all should be termed 
 a form that received God (Oeodv/a;). i.e., not 
 God, but the receiver of God, so that your view 
 is that He is to be honoured not for His own 
 sake because He is God, but because He re- 
 ceives God into Himself. But clearly this also 
 was asserted by that heresy of which I spoke 
 before ; viz., that Christ was not to be wor- 
 shipped for His own sake because He was 
 God, but because owing to His good and pious 
 actions He won this ; viz., to have God dwell- 
 ing in Him. You see then that you are belch- 
 ing out the poison of Pelagianism, and hissing 
 with the very spirit of Pelagianism. Whence 
 it comes that you seem rather to have been 
 already judged, than to have now to undergo 
 judgment, for since your error is one and the 
 same, you must be believed to fall under 
 the same condemnation : not to mention for the 
 present that you compare the Lord to a statue 
 of the Emperor, and break out into such 
 wicked and blasphemous impieties that you 
 seem in this madness of yours to surpass even 
 Pelagius himself, who surpassed almost every 
 one else in impiety. 
 
5§2 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 How this participation in Divinity which the Pelagians and 
 Nestorians attribute to Christ, is common to all holy men. 
 
 You say then that Christ should be termed 
 a form which received God (Qeod6%og), i.e., 
 that He should be revered not for His own sake 
 because He is God, but because He received 
 God within Him. And so in this way you 
 make out that there is no difference between 
 Him and all other holy men : for all holy men 
 have certainly had God within them. For we 
 know well that God was in the patriarchs, and 
 that He spoke in the prophets. In a word we 
 believe that, I do not say apostles and martyrs, 
 but, all the saints and servants of God have 
 within them the Spirit of God, according to 
 this : " Ye are the temple of the living God : 
 as God said, For I will dwell in them." 1 And 
 again: "Know ye not that ye are the temple 
 of God, and the Spirit of God dwelleth in 
 you ? " 2 And thus we are all receivers of God 
 (QeoSoxot) ; and in this way you say that all 
 the saints are only like Christ, and equal to 
 God. But away with such a wicked and 
 abominable heresy as that the Creator should 
 be compared to His creatures, the Lord to 
 His servants, the God of things earthly and 
 heavenly, to earthly frailty : and out of His 
 very kindnesses this wrong be done to Him ; 
 viz., that He who honours man by dwelling in 
 him should therefore be said to be only the 
 same as man. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 What the difference is between Christ and the saints. 
 
 Moreover there is between Him and all 
 the saints the same difference that there is 
 between a dwelling and one who dwells in it, 
 for certainly it is the doing of the dweller not 
 the dwelling, if it is inhabited, for on him 
 it depends both to build the house and to 
 occupy it. I mean, that he can choose, if he 
 will, to make it a dwelling, and when he has 
 made it, to live in it. " Or do you seek a 
 proof," says the Apostle, " of Christ speaking 
 in me ? " 3 And elsewhere, " Know ye not 
 that Jesus Christ is in you except ye be repro- 
 bate ? " 4 And again : "in the inner man, that 
 Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith." 6 
 Do you not see what a difference there is 
 between the Apostle's doctrine and your blas- 
 phemies ? You say that God dwells in Christ 
 as in a man. He testifies that Christ Himself 
 dwells in men : which certainly, as you admit, 
 
 flesh and blood cannot do ; so that He is 
 shown to be God, from the very fact from 
 which you deny Him to be God. For since 
 you cannot deny that He who dwells in man is 
 God, it follows that we must believe that He, 
 whom we know to dwell in men, is most de- 
 cidedly God. All, then, whether patriarchs, 
 or prophets, or apostles, or martyrs, or saints, 
 had every one of them God within him, and 
 were all made sons of God and were all re- 
 ceivers of God (Oeodozoi), but in a very differ- 
 ent and distinct way. For all who believe in 
 God are sons of God by adoption : but the 
 only begotten alone is Son by nature : who was 
 begotten of His Father, not of any material 
 substance, for all things, and the substance of 
 all things exist through the only begotten Son 
 of God — and not out of nothing, because He 
 is from the Father : not like a birth, for there 
 is nothing in God that is void or mutable, but 
 in an ineffable and incomprehensible manner 
 God the Father, wherein He Himself was 
 ingenerate, begat his only begotten Son ; and 
 so from the Most High, Ingenerate, and Eter- 
 nal Father proceeds the Most High, Only 
 Begotten, and Eternal Son. Who must be 
 considered the same Person in the flesh as He 
 is in the Spirit : and must be held to be the 
 same Person in the body as He is in glory, for 
 when He was about to be born in the flesh, 6 
 He made no division or separation within 
 Himself, as if some portion of Him was born 
 while another portion was not born : or as if 
 some portion of Divinity afterwards came upon 
 Him, which had not been in Him at His birth 
 from the Virgin. For according to the Apostle, 
 " all the fulness of the Godhead dwelleth in 
 Christ bodily." 7 Not that It dwells in Hini at 
 times, and at times dwells not ; nor that It was 
 there at a later date, and not an earlier one : 
 otherwise we are entangled in that impious 
 heresy of Pelagius, so as to say that from a 
 fixed moment God dwelt in Christ, and that 
 He then came upon Him ; when He had won 
 by His life and conversation this ; viz., that 
 the. power of the Godhead should dwell in 
 Him. These things then belong to men, to 
 men, I say, not to God, — that as far as human 
 weakness can, they should humble themselves 
 to God, be subject to God, make themselves 
 dwellings for God, and by their faith and piety 
 win this, to have God as their guest and in- 
 dweller. For in proportion as anyone is fit for 
 God's gift, so does the Divine grace reward 
 him : in proportion as a man seems worthy of 
 
 1 2 Cor. vi. 16. 
 
 2 I Cor. iii. 16. 
 
 3 2 Cor. xiii. 3. 
 
 4 lb. ver. 5. 
 
 5 Eph. iii. 16, 17. 
 
 6 Idem credendits in corfiore qni crediiur in majestate, quia 
 nascitnrns in came non divisionem, etc., (Petschenig) : Gazsus 
 reads Idem credcndus in majestate quia nascitunts in came. Non 
 divisionem, etc. 
 
 7 Col. ii. 9. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 583 
 
 God, so does he enjoy God's presence, accord- 
 ing to the Lord's promise : " If any man love 
 Me, he will keep My word ; and I and My 
 Father will come to him and make Our abode 
 with Him." x But very different is the case as 
 regards Christ ; in whom all the fulness of the 
 Godhead dwelleth bodily : for He has within 
 Him the fulness of the Godhead so that He 
 gives to all of His fulness, and He — as the 
 fulness of the Godhead dwells in Him — Him- 
 self dwells in each of the saints in proportion 
 as He deems them worthy of His Presence, 
 and gives of His fulness to all, yet in such a 
 way that He Himself continues in all that ful- 
 ness, — who even when He was on earth in 
 the flesh, yet was present in the hearts of all 
 the saints, and filled the heaven, the earth, the 
 sea, aye and the whole universe with His in- 
 finite power and majesty ; and yet was so 
 complete in Himself that the whole world 
 could not contain Him. For however great 
 and inexpressible whatever is made may be, yet 
 there are no things so boundless and 'infinite 
 as to be able to contain the Creator Himself. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 That before His birth in time Christ was always called God by 
 the prophets. 
 
 He it is then of whom the Prophet says : 
 " For in Thee is God, and there is no God be- 
 side Thee. For Thou art our God and we 
 knew Thee not, O God of Israel the Saviour." 2 
 Who " afterwards appeared on earth and con- 
 versed with men." 3 Of whom and in whose 
 Person the Prophet David also speaks : " From 
 my mother's womb Thou art my God : " 4 show- 
 ing clearly that He who was Lord and man 5 
 was never separate from God : in whom even 
 in the Virgin's womb the fulness of the God- 
 head dwelt. As elsewhere the same Prophet 
 says : " Truth has sprung from the earth 
 
 1 S. John xiv. 23. 3 Baruch iii. 37. 
 
 2 Isa. xlv. 14, 15. 4 Ps. xxi. (xxii.) 11. 
 
 5 Dominicus Homo, literally " the Lordly man." The same 
 title is used again by Cassian in Book VI. cc. xxi., xxii., and in the 
 Conferences XI. xiii. It is however an instance of a title which the 
 mature judgment of the Church has rejected as savouring of an here- 
 tical interpretation. We learn from Gregory Nazianzen (Orat. 51) 
 that the Greek equivalent of the title 6 Kupia/cb? avtipunros, was a fa- 
 vourite term with the Apollinarians, as it might be taken to favour 
 their view that the Divinity supplied the place of a human soul in 
 Christ. It is however freely used by Epiphanius in his Anchoratus, 
 and is also found in the exposition of faith assigned to Alhanasius 
 (Migne. Pat. (Irec. xxv. p. 197). And Augustine himself actually 
 uses the tide Dominicus Homo in his treatise on the Sermon on the 
 Mount, Book II. c. vi., though he afterwards retracted the term, see 
 " Retract," Book I. c. xx. " Non video utrum recte dicatur Homo 
 Dominicus, qui est mediator Dei et hominum, homo Christus Jesus, 
 cum sit utique Domiuus : Dominicus antem homoquis in ejussancta 
 familia non potest dici ? Et hoc quidem ut dicerem, apud quos- 
 dam legi tractores catholicos divinorum eloqniorum. Sed ubicunque 
 hoc dici, dixisse me nollem. Postea quippe vidi non esse dicendum, 
 quamvis nonnulla possit ratione defendi." The question is discussed 
 by S. Thomas, whether the title is rightlv applied to Christ and de- 
 cided by him in the negative. Summa III. Q. vi. art. 3. 
 
 and righteousness hath looked down from 
 heaven," 6 that we may know that when the 
 Son of God looked down from heaven (i.e., 
 came and descended), righteousness was born 
 of the flesh of the Virgin, no phantasm of a 
 body, but the Truth : for He is the Truth, ac- 
 cording to His own witness of Truth : " I am 
 the Truth and the life." ' And so as we have 
 proved in the earlier books that this Truth ; 
 viz., the Lord Jesus Christ, was God when 
 born of the Virgin, let us now do as we deter- 
 mined to do in the book before this, and show 
 that He who was to be born of the Virgin, was 
 always declared to be God beforehand. And 
 so the prophet Isaiah says, " Cease ye from 
 the man whose breath is in his nostrils, for it 
 is He in whom he is reputed to be ; " or as it 
 is more exactly and clearly in the Hebrew : 
 "for he is reputed high." 8 But by saying 
 " cease ye," a term which deprecates violence, 
 he admirably denotes the disturbance of per- 
 secution. " Cease ye," he says, " from the 
 man whose breath is in his nostrils, for he is 
 reputed high." Does he not in one and the 
 same sentence speak of the taking upon Him 
 of the manhood, and the truth of His God- 
 head ? " Cease ye," he says, "from the man 
 whose breath is in his nostrils, for he is re- 
 puted high." Does he not, I ask you, seem 
 plainly to address the Lord's persecutors, and 
 to say, " Cease ye from the man " whom ye 
 are persecuting, for this man is God : and 
 though He appears in the lowliness of human 
 flesh, yet He still continues in the high estate 
 of Divine glory ? But by saying " Cease ye 
 from the man whose breath is in his nostrils," 
 he admirably showed His manhood, by the 
 clearest tokens of a human body, and this fear- 
 lessly and confidently, as one who would as 
 urgently assert the truth of His humanity as 
 that of His Godhead, for this is the true and 
 Catholic faith, to believe that the Lord Jesus 
 Christ possessed the substance of a true 
 body just as Lie possessed a true and perfect 
 Divinity. Unless possibly you think that any- 
 thing can be made out of the fact that he uses 
 the word " High " instead of '• God " ; whereas 
 it is the habit of holy Scripture to put " High " 
 for "God," as where the prophet says: "the 
 Most High uttered His voice and the earth 
 was moved," 9 and " Thou alone art Most High 
 over all the earth." 10 Isaiah too, who says 
 this : " The High and lofty one who inhabit- 
 eth eternity " : u where we are clearly to under- 
 stand that as he there puts Most High without 
 adding the name of God, so here too he speaks 
 of God by the name of Most High. So then, 
 
 " Ps. lxxxiv. (Ixxxv.) 12. 7 S. John xiv. 6. 
 
 8 Isa. ii. 22. Cf. the note on the Institutes xii. xxxi. 
 
 Ps. xlv. (xlvi.) 7. 10 Ps. lxxxii. (lxxxiii.) 19. u Isa. Ivii. 15. 
 
5§4 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 since the Divine word spoken by the prophet 
 clearly announced beforehand that the Lord 
 Jesus Christ would be both God and man, let 
 us now see whether the New Testament corre- 
 sponds to and harmonizes with the testimony 
 of the Old. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 He illustrates the same doctrine by passages from the New 
 Testament. 
 
 " That," says the Apostle John, "which was 
 from the beginning, which we have heard, 
 which we have seen with our eyes, which we 
 have looked upon, and our hands have handled, 
 of the word of the life : for the life was mani- 
 fested : and we have seen, and do bear wit- 
 ness, and declare unto you the life eternal, 
 which was with the Father, and hath appeared 
 unto us." J You see how the old testimonies 
 are confirmed by fresh ones, and the support 
 of the new preaching is given to the ancient 
 prophecy. Isaiah said: "Cease ye from the 
 man whose breath is in his nostrils for he is 
 reputed high." But John says : " That which 
 was from the beginning, which we have seen 
 with our eyes, which we have looked upon, 
 and our hands have handled." The former 
 said that as man He would be persecuted by 
 the Jews : the latter declared that as man He 
 was handled by men's hands. The one pre- 
 dicted that He whom he announced as man, 
 would be God Most High : the other asserts 
 that He whom he showed to have been handled 
 by men, was ever God in the beginning. It is 
 then as clear as possible that they both showed 
 the Lord Jesus Christ to be both God and 
 man ; and that the same Person was after- 
 wards man who had always been God, and 
 thus He was God and man, because God 
 Himself became man. That then, he says, 
 " which was from the beginning, which we have 
 heard, which we have seen with our eyes, 
 which we have looked upon, and our hands 
 have handled of the word of life ; and the 
 life was manifested, and we have seen, and do 
 bear witness, and declare unto you the life 
 eternal which was with the Father, and hath 
 appeared unto us." You see the number of 
 proofs and ways, very different and numerous, 
 in which that Apostle so well beloved and so 
 devoted to God, indicates the mystery of the 
 Divine Incarnation. In the first instance he 
 testifies that He, who ever was in the begin- 
 ning, was seen in the flesh. Lest in case it 
 might not seem sufficient for unbelievers that 
 he had spoken of Him as seen and heard, he 
 supports it by saying that He was handled, 
 
 1 i John i. i, 2. 
 
 i.e., touched and felt by his own hands and by 
 those of others. Admirably indeed by show- 
 ing how He took flesh, does he shut out the 
 view of the Marcionites and the error of the 
 Manichees, so that no one may think that a 
 phantom appeared to men, since an apostle 
 has declared that a true body was handled by 
 him. Then he adds " the word of life : and 
 the life was manifested," and that he saw it, 
 announced it, and proclaimed it : thus at the 
 same time carrying out the duties of the faith 
 and striking the unbelievers with terror, that 
 while he declares that he proclaims Him, he 
 may bring home the danger in which he stands, 
 to the man who will not listen. "We declare 
 to you," he says, " the life eternal which was 
 with the Father, and hath appeared to us." 
 He teaches that that which was ever with the 
 Father appeared to men : and that which was 
 ever in the beginning, was seen of men : and 
 that which was the Word of life without be- 
 ginning, was handled by men's hands. You 
 see the number and variety, the particularity 
 and the clearness of the ways in which he un- 
 folds the mystery of the flesh joined to God, 
 in such a way that no one could speak at all 
 of either without acknowledging both. As the 
 Apostle himself clearly says elsewhere : " For 
 Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, and to-day, 
 and for ever." " This is what he said in the 
 passage given above: "That which was from 
 the beginning, our hands have handled." Not 
 that a spirit can in its own nature be handled : 
 but that the Word made flesh was in a sense 
 handled in the manhood with which it was 
 joined. And so Jesus is "the same yesterday 
 and to-day " : i.e., the same Person before the 
 commencement of the world, as in the flesh ; 
 the same in the past as in the present, the 
 same also for ever, for He is the same through 
 all the ages, as before all the ages. And all 
 this is the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 He shows again from the union in Christ of two natures in one 
 Person that what belongs to the Divine nature may rightly 
 be ascribed to man, and what belongs to the human nature 
 to God. 
 
 And how was it the same Person before the 
 origin of the world, who was but recently born ? 
 Because it was the same Person, who was re- 
 cently born in human nature, who was God be- 
 fore the rise of all things. And so the name 
 of Christ includes everything that the name of 
 God does ; for so close is the union between 
 Christ and God that no one, when he uses the 
 name of Christ can help speaking of God un- 
 
 = Heb. xiii. 8. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 535 
 
 der the name of Christ, nor, when he speaks 
 of God, can he help speaking of Christ under 
 the name of God. And as through the glory 
 of His holy nativity the mystery of each sub- 
 stance is joined together in Him, whatever 
 was in existence — I mean both human and 
 Divine — all is regarded as God. And hence 
 the Apostle Paul seeing with unveiled eyes of 
 faith the whole mystery of the ineffable glory in 
 Christ, spoke as follows, in inviting the peoples 
 who were ignorant of God's goodness to give 
 thanksgiving to God: "Giving thanks to the 
 Father, who hath made us worthy to be par- 
 takers of the lot of the saints in light, who 
 hath delivered us from the power of darkness, 
 and hath translated us into the kingdom of the 
 Son of His love, in whom we have redemption 
 through His blood, the remission of sins ; who 
 is the image of the invisible God, the first-born 
 of every creature : for in Him were all things 
 created in heaven and on earth, visible and 
 invisible, whether thrones or dominations, or 
 powers : all things were created by Him and 
 in Him. And He is before all, and by Him 
 all things consist. And He is the head of the 
 body the Church, who is the beginning, the 
 first-born from the dead ; that in all things He 
 may hold the primacy. Because it pleased 
 the Father that in Him should all fulness 
 dwell ; and through Him to reconcile all things 
 unto Himself, making peace through the blood 
 of His cross, both as to the things on earth, 
 and the things that are in heaven." x Surely 
 this does not need the aid of any further ex- 
 planation, as it is so fully and clearly expressed 
 that in itself it contains not merely the sub- 
 stance of the faith, but a clear exposition of it. 
 For he bids us give thanks to the Father: and 
 adds a weighty reason for thus giving thanks ; 
 viz., because He hath made us worthy to be 
 partakers with the saints, and hath delivered us 
 from the power of darkness, hath translated us 
 unto the kingdom of the Son of His love, in 
 whom we have redemption and remission of 
 sins : who is the image of the invisible God, 
 the first-born of every creature ; for in Him 
 and through Him were all things created ; of 
 which He is both the Creator and the ruler : 
 and what follows after this ? " He is," he 
 says, " the head of the body the Church : who 
 is the beginning, the first-born from the dead." 
 Scripture speaks of the resurrection as a birth : 
 because as birth is the beginning of life, so 
 resurrection gives birth unto life. Whence 
 also the resurrection is actually spoken of as 
 regeneration, according to the words of the 
 Lord : " Verily I say unto you, that ye which 
 have followed me, in the regeneration when 
 
 the Son of man shall sit on the throne of His 
 glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones, 
 judging the twelve tribes of Israel." 2 There- 
 fore he calls Him the first-born from the dead, 
 whom he had previously declared to be the 
 invisible Son and image of God. But who is 
 the image of the invisible God, except the only- 
 begotten, the Word of God ? And how can 
 we say that He rose from the dead, who is 
 termed the image and word of the invisible 
 God ? And what is it that follows afterwards ? 
 " That in all things He may hold the primacy : 
 for it pleased the Father that in Him should 
 all fulness dwell, and by Him to reconcile all 
 things to Himself, making peace through the 
 blood of His cross, both as to things on earth 
 and the things that are in heaven." Surely 
 the Creator of all things has no need of the 
 primacy in all things ? Nor He who made 
 them, of the primacy of those things which 
 were made by Him ? And how can we say of 
 the Word, that it pleased God that all fulness 
 should dwell in Him who was the first-born 
 from the dead, when He was Himself the 
 only-begotten Son of God and the Word of 
 God, before the origin of all things, and had 
 within Him the invisible Father, and so first 
 had within Him all fulness, that He might 
 Himself be the fulness of all things ? And 
 what next ? " Bringing all things to peace 
 through the blood of His cross, both things 
 on earth, and the things which are in heaven." 
 Certainly he has made it as clear as possible 
 of whom he was speaking, when he called Him 
 the first-born from the dead. For are all things 
 reconciled and brought into peace through the 
 blood of the Word or Spirit ? Most certainly 
 not. For no sort of passion can happen to 
 nature that is impassible, nor can the blood 
 of any but a man be shed, nor any but a man 
 die : and yet the same Person who is spoken 
 of in the following verses as dead, was above 
 called the image of the invisible God. How 
 then can this be ? Because the apostles took 
 every possible precaution that it might not be 
 thought that there was any division in Christ, 
 or that the Son of God being joined to a Son 
 of man, might come by wild interpretations to be 
 made into two Persons, and thus He who is in 
 Himself but one might by wrongful and wicked 
 notions of ours, be made into a double Person 
 in one nature. And so most excellently and 
 admirably does the apostle's preaching pass 
 from the only begotten Son of God to the Son 
 of man united to the Son of God, that the ex- 
 position of the doctrine might follow the actual 
 course of the things that happened. And so 
 he continues with an unbroken connexion, and 
 
 1 Col. i. 12-20. 
 
 S. Matt. xix. 2S. 
 
5 86 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 makes as it were a sort of bridge, that without 
 any gap or separation you might find at the 
 end of time Him whom we read of as in the 
 beginning of the world ; and that you might 
 not by admitting some division and erroneous 
 separation imagine that the Son of God was 
 one person in the flesh and another in the 
 Spirit ; when the teaching of the apostle had 
 so linked together God and man through the 
 mystery of His birth in the body, so as to show 
 that it was the same Person reconciling to 
 Himself all things on the Cross, who had been 
 proclaimed the image of the invisible God 
 before the foundation of the world. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 He confirms the judgment of the Apostle by the authority of 
 the Lord. 
 
 And though this is the saying of an Apos- 
 tle, yet it is the very doctrine of the Lord. 
 For the same Person says this to Christians 
 by His Apostle, who had Himself said some- 
 thing very like it to Jews in the gospel, when 
 He said: " But now ye seek to kill me, a man, 
 who have spoken the truth to you, which I 
 heard of God : for I am not come of Myself, 
 but He sent me." * He clearly shows that 
 He is both God and man: man, in that He 
 says thaf He is a man : God, in that He 
 affirms that He was sent. For He must have 
 been with Him from whom He came : and 
 He came from Him, from whom He said that 
 He was sent. Whence it comes that when the 
 Jews said to Him, " Thou art not yet fifty 
 years old and hast Thou seen Abraham ? " 
 He replied in words that exactly suit His 
 eternity and glory, saying, " Verily, verily, I 
 say unto you, Before Abraham came into 
 being, I am."'- I ask then, whose saying do 
 you think this is ? Certainly it is Christ's 
 without any doubt. And how could He who 
 had been but recently born, say that He was 
 before Abraham ? Simply owing to the Word 
 of God, with which He was entirely united, so 
 that all might understand the closeness of the 
 union of Christ and God : since whatever God 
 said in Christ, that in its fulness the unity of 
 the Divinity claimed for Himself. But con- 
 scious of His own eternity, He rightly then 
 when in the body, replied to the Jews, with the 
 very words which He had formerly spoken to 
 Moses in the Spirit. For here He says, " Be- 
 fore Abraham came into being, I am." But 
 to Moses He says, "I am that I am." 3 He 
 
 1 S. John viii. 40, 42. 2 Ibid. ver. 5S. 3 Exod. iii. 14. 
 
 certainly announced the eternity of His Divine 
 nature with marvellous grandeur of language 
 for nothing can be spoken so worthily of God, 
 as that He should be said ever to be. For 
 "to be " admits of no beginning in the past 
 or end in the future. And so this is very 
 clearly spoken of the nature of the eternal 
 God, as it exactly describes His eternity. 
 And this the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, when 
 He was speaking of Abraham, showed by the 
 difference of terms used, saying, " Before Abra- 
 ham came into being I am." Of Abraham he 
 said, "Before he came into being:" Of Him- 
 self, " I am," for it belongs to things temporal 
 to come into being : to be belongs to eternity. 
 And so " to come into being " He assigns to 
 human transitoriness : but " to be " to His 
 own nature. And all this was found in Christ 
 who, by virtue of the mystery of the manhood 
 and Divinity joined together in Him who ever 
 "was," could say that He already "was." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Since those marvellous works which from the days of Moses 
 were shown to the children of Israel are attributed to Christ, 
 it follows that He must have existed long before His birth 
 in time. 
 
 And when the Apostle wanted to make this 
 clear and patent to everybody he spoke as fol- 
 lows, saying that, " Jesus having saved the 
 people out of the land of Egypt afterward 
 destroyed them that believed not." 4 But else- 
 where too we read : " Neither let us tempt 
 Christ, as some of them tempted, and were 
 destroyed by serpents." 5 Peter also the chief 
 of the apostles says : " And now why tempt ye 
 God to put a yoke upon the neck of the disci- 
 ples, which neither our fathers nor we have 
 been able to bear. But we believe that we 
 shall be saved by the grace of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ even as they were." 6 We know most 
 certainly that the people of God were delivered 
 from Egypt, and led dryshod through mighty 
 tracts of water, and preserved in the vast desert 
 wastes, by none but God alone ; as it is writ- 
 ten : " The Lord alone did lead them, and 
 there was no strange God among them." 7 
 And how can an Apostle declare in so 
 many and such clear passages that the peo- 
 ple of the Jews were delivered from Egypt 
 by Jesus, and that Christ was at that time 
 tempted by the Jews in the wilderness, say- 
 ing, " Neither let us tempt Christ, as some 
 
 i S. Jude, ver. 5. 
 c 1 Cor. x. 9. 
 
 6 Acts xv. 10, 11. 
 
 7 Deut. xxxii. 12. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 587 
 
 of them tempted, and were destroyed of the 
 serpents ? '*' And further the blessed Apostle 
 Peter says of all the saints who lived under 
 the law of the Old Covenant that they were 
 saved by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. 
 Get out then, and wriggle out of this if you 
 can — whoever you are — you who rage with 
 vapid mouth and a spirit of blasphemy, and 
 think that there is no difference at all between 
 Adam and Christ ; and you who deny that He 
 was God before His birth of the Virgin, show 
 clearly how you can prove that He was not 
 God before His body came into existence. 
 For lo, an Apostle says that the people were 
 saved out of the land of Egypt by Jesus : and 
 that Christ was tempted by unbelievers in the 
 wilderness : and that our fathers, i.e., the pa- 
 triarchs and prophets, were saved by the grace 
 of our Lord Jesus Christ. Deny it if you can. 
 I shall not be surprised if you manage to deny 
 what we all read, as you have already denied 
 what we all believe. Know then that even then 
 it was Christ in God who led the people out 
 of Egypt, and it was Christ in God who was 
 tempted by the people who tempted, and it 
 was Christ in God who saved all the righteous 
 men by His lavish grace : for through the 
 oneness of the mystery (of the Incarnation) 
 the terms God and Christ so pass into each 
 other, that whatever God did, that we may 
 say that Christ did ; and whatever afterwards 
 Christ bore, we may say that God bore. And 
 so when the prophet said, " There shall no 
 new God be in thee, neither shalt thou worship 
 any other God," 1 he announced it with the 
 same meaning and in the same spirit as that 
 with which the Apostle said that Christ was 
 the leader of the people of Israel out of 
 Egypt ; to show that He who was born of the 
 Virgin as man, was even through the unity of 
 the mystery still in God. Otherwise, unless 
 we believe this, we must either believe with 
 the heretics that Christ is not God, or against 
 the teaching of the prophet hold that He is a 
 new God. But may it be far from the Catho- 
 lic people of God, to seem either to differ from 
 the prophet or to agree with heretics : or per- 
 chance the people who should be blessed may 
 be involved in a curse, and be charged with 
 putting their hope in man. For whoever de- 
 clares that the Lord Jesus Christ was at His 
 birth a mere man, is doubly liable to the curse, 
 whether he believes in Him or not. For if he 
 believes, " Cursed is he who puts his hope in 
 man." 2 But if he does not believe, none the 
 less is he still cursed, because though not be- 
 lieving in man, he still has altogether denied 
 God. 
 
 1 Ps. lxxx. (lxxxi.). 10. 
 
 2 Jer. xvii. 5. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 He explains what it means to confess, and what it means to 
 dissolve Jesus. 
 
 For this it is which John, the man so dear 
 to God, foresaw from the Lord's own revela- 
 tion to him and so spoke of Him, who was 
 speaking in him. " Every spirit," he says, 
 " which confesseth Jesus come in the flesh is of 
 God, and every spirit that dissolveth Jesus is 
 not of God : and this is the spirit of Antichrist, 
 of whom you have heard already, and he is 
 now already in the world." 3 O the marvel- 
 lous and singular goodness of God, who like 
 a most careful and skilful physician, foretold 
 beforehand the diseases that should come 
 upon His Church, and when He showed the 
 mischief beforehand, gave in showing it, 
 a remedy for it : that all men when they saw 
 the evil approaching, might at once flee as far 
 as possible from that which they already knew 
 to be imminent. And so Saint John says, 
 " Every spirit that dissolveth Jesus is not of 
 God; and this is the spirit of Antichrist." 
 Do you recognize him, O you heretic ? Do 
 you recognize that it is plainly and markedly 
 spoken of you ? For no one thus dissolves 
 Jesus but he who does not confess that He is 
 God. For since in this consists all the faith 
 and all the worship of the Church ; viz., to 
 confess that Jesus is very God ; who can 
 more dissolve His glory and worship than 
 one who denies the existence in Him of all 
 that we all worship ? Take then, I beseech 
 you, take care lest any one may even term 
 you Antichrist. Do you think that I am re- 
 viling and cursing ? What I am saying is not 
 my own idea : for lo, the Evangelist says, 
 " Every one that dissolveth Jesus is not of 
 God; and this is Antichrist." If you do not 
 dissolve Jesus, and deny God, no one may call 
 you Antichrist. But if you deny it why do 
 you accuse anyone for calling you Antichrist?: 
 While you are denying it, I declare you have 
 said it of yourself. Would you like to know 
 whether this is true ? Tell me, when Jesus 
 was born of a Virgin, what do you make Him 
 to be — man or God ? If God only, you cer- 
 tainly dissolve Jesus, as you deny that in Him 
 manhood was joined to Divinity. But if you 
 say He was man, none the less do you dissolve 
 Him, as you blasphemously say that a mere 
 
 3 1 S. John iv. 2, 3. It will be no'iiced that Cassian quotes this 
 passage with the reading " Qui solvit Jesum," where the Greek has 
 6 /j.rj 6/xoAoyet tov 'Ir;5o0i'. Auet is found in no Greek MS., uncial or 
 cursive, and the only Greek authority for it is that of Socrates, who 
 says it was the reading in "the old copies." " Qui solvit " was 
 probably an early gloss, current in very early days in the West, being 
 found in Tertulhan (adv. Marc. v. 16 ; De Jejun : i.) and in all Latin 
 MSS. whether of the Vetus or Vulgate (with a single exception), 
 and finally becoming universal in the Fathers of the Western Church. 
 Cf. Westcott on the Epp. of S. John, p. 156, sq. 
 
5 88 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 man (as you will have it) was born. Unless 
 perhaps you think that you do not dissolve 
 Jesus, you who deny Him to be God, you who 
 would certainly dissolve Him even if you did 
 not deny x that man was born together with God. 
 But possibly you would like this to be made 
 clearer by examples. You shall have them in 
 both directions. The Manichees are outside 
 the Church, who declare that Jesus was God 
 alone : and the Ebionites, who say that he was 
 a mere man. For both of them deny and dis- 
 solve Jesus : the one by saying that He is 
 only man, the other by saying that He is only 
 God. For though their opinions were the 
 opposite of each other, yet the blasphemy of 
 these diverse opinions is much the same, ex- 
 cept that if any distinction can be drawn 
 between the magnitude of the evils, your 
 blasphemy which asserts that He is a mere 
 man is worse than that which says that He is 
 only God : for though both are wrong, yet it is 
 more insulting to take away from the Lord 
 what is Divine than what is human. This 
 then alone is the Catholic and the true faith ; 
 viz., to believe that as the Lord Jesus Christ 
 is God so also is He man ; and that as He is 
 man so also is He God. " Every one who dis- 
 solves Jesus is not of God." But to dissolve 
 Him is to try to rend asunder what is united 
 in Jesus ; and to sever what is but one and in- 
 divisible. But what is it in Jesus that is united 
 and but one ? Certainly the manhood and the 
 Godhead. He then dissolves Jesus who severs 
 these and rends them asunder. Otherwise, if 
 he does not rend them asunder and sever 
 them, he does not dissolve Jesus : But if he 
 rends them asunder he certainly dissolves 
 Him. 2 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 The mystery of the Lord's Incarnation clearly implies the 
 Divinity of Christ. 
 
 And so to every man who breaks out into this 
 mad blasphemy, the Lord Jesus in the gospel 
 Himself repeats what He said to the Phari- 
 sees, and declares : " What God hath joined 
 together, let not man put asunder." 3 For 
 although where it was originally spoken by 
 God it seems to be in answer to another mat- 
 ter, yet the deep wisdom of God which was 
 speaking not more of carnal than of spiritual 
 things, would have this to be taken of that 
 subject indeed, but even more of this : for 
 
 1 Non negares (Petschenig). Gazaeus has denegares. 
 
 2 The last sentences are placed in brackets by Petschenig. 
 
 3 S. Matt. xix. 6. 
 
 when the Jews of that day believed with you 
 that Jesus was only a man without Divinity,, 
 and the Lord was asked a question about the 
 union in marriage, in His teaching He not 
 only referred to it, but to this also : though 
 consulted about matters of less importance 
 PI is answer applied to greater and deeper 
 matters, when he said, "What God hath 
 joined together, let not man put asunder," i.e., 
 Do not sever what God hath joined together 
 in My Person. Let not human wickedness 
 sever that which the Divine Glory hath united 
 in Me. But if you want to be told more fully 
 that this is so, hear the Apostle talking about 
 these very subjects of which the Saviour was 
 then teaching, for he, as a teacher sent from 
 God that his weak-minded hearers might be 
 able to take in his teaching, expounded those 
 very subjects which God had proclaimed in a 
 mystery. For when he was discussing the 
 subject of carnal union, on which the Saviour 
 had been asked a question in the gospel, he 
 repeated those very passages from the old Law 
 on which He had dwelt, on purpose that they 
 might see that as he was using the same 
 authorities he was expounding the same sub- 
 ject : besides which, that nothing may seem to 
 be wanting to his case, he adds the mention of 
 carnal union, and puts in the names of hus- 
 band and wife whom he exhorts to love one 
 another : " Husbands, love your wives even as 
 Christ also loved the Church." And again : 
 " So also ought men to love their wives even 
 as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife 
 loveth himself. For no man ever hated his 
 own flesh, but nourisheth and cherisheth it, as 
 Christ also doth the Church, for we are mem- 
 bers of His body." 4 You see how by adding 
 to the mention of man and wife the mention of 
 Christ and the Church, he leads all from tak- 
 ing it carnally to understand it in a spiritual 
 sense. For when he had said all this, he 
 added those passages which the Lord had 
 applied in the Gospel, saying : " For this 
 cause shall a man leave his father and his 
 mother, and shall cleave unto his wife, and 
 they twain shall be one flesh." And after 
 this with special emphasis he adds : " This is 
 a great mystery." He certainly altogether 
 cuts off and gets rid of any carnal interpreta- 
 tion, by saying that it is a Divine mystery. 
 And what did he add after this ? " But I am 
 speaking of Christ and the Church." That is 
 to say : " But that is a great mystery. But I 
 am speaking of Christ and the Church," i.e., 
 since perhaps at the present time all cannot 
 grasp that, they may at least grasp this, which 
 is not at variance with it, nor different from it, 
 
 
 4 Eph. v. 25-30. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 539 
 
 because both refer to Christ. But because 
 they cannot grasp those more profound truths, 
 let them at least take in these easier ones, 
 that by making a commencement by grasping 
 what lies on the surface, they may come to the 
 deeper truths, and that the acquisition of a 
 somewhat simple matter may open the way in 
 time to what is more profound. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 He explains more fully what the mystery is which is signified 
 under the name of the man and wife. 
 
 What then is that great mystery which is sig- 
 nified under the name of the man and his wife ? 
 Let us ask the Apostle himself, who elsewhere 
 to teach the same thing uses words of the 
 same force, saying: " And evidently great is the 
 mystery of godliness, which was manifested in 
 the flesh, justified in the Spirit, seen of angels, 
 preached to the Gentiles, believed on in the 
 world, received up in glory." 1 What then is 
 that great mystery which was manifested in 
 the flesh ? Clearly it was God born of the 
 flesh, God seen in bodily form : who was 
 openly received up in glory just as He was 
 openly manifested in the flesh. This then is 
 the great mystery, of which he says : " For this 
 cause shall a man leave his father and mother, 
 and shall cleave to his wife ; and they two 
 shall be one flesh." Who then were the two 
 in one flesh ? God and the soul, for in the one 
 flesh of ram which is joined to God are pres- 
 ent God and the soul, as the Lord Himself 
 says : " No man can take My life (anima) 
 away from Me. But I lay it down of Myself. 
 I have power to lay it down, and I have power 
 to take it again." 2 You see then in this, 
 three ; viz., God, the flesh, and the soul. It 
 is God who speaks : the flesh in which He 
 speaks : the soul of which He speaks. Is He 
 therefore that man of whom the prophet says : 
 "A brother cannot redeem, nor shall a man 
 redeem"? 3 Who, as it was said, "ascended 
 up where He was before," 4 and of whom we 
 re id : " No man hath ascended into heaven, but 
 He who came down from heaven, even the Son 
 of man wno is in heaven." 5 For this cause, I 
 say, He has left his' father and mother, i.e., 
 God from whom He was begotten and that 
 
 1 1 Tim. iii. 16. Quod manifestum in earne. The true readingis 
 pretty cert-unhy 6?, see Westcott and Hort, Greek Testament, vol. ii., 
 p. 112. The neuter 6 is found in D. and in many Latin Fathers, as 
 well as the Vulgate. 
 
 2 S. John x. 18. 4 Cf. S. John vi. 62. 
 
 3 Ps. xlviii. (xlix.). 8. 5 S. John iii. 13. 
 
 "Jerusalem which is the mother of us all," 6 
 and has cleaved to human flesh, as to his wife. 
 And therefore he expressly says in the case of 
 the father " a man shall leave his father," but 
 in the case of the mother he does not say 
 "his," but simply says "mother:" because she 
 was not so much his mother, as the mother of 
 all believers, i.e., of all of us. And He was 
 joined to his wife, for just as man and wife 
 make but one body, so the glory of Divinity and 
 the flesh of man are united and the two, viz., 
 God and the soul, become one flesh. For just 
 as that flesh had God as an indweller in it, so 
 also had it the soul within it dwelling with 
 God. This then is that great mystery, to 
 search out which our admiration for the Apcs- 
 tle summons us, and Cod's own exhortation 
 bids us : and it is one not foreign to Christ 
 and His Church, as he says, " But I am speak- 
 ing of Christ and the Church." Because the 
 flesh of the Church is the flesh of Christ, and 
 in the flesh of Christ there is present God and 
 the soul : and so the same person is present in 
 Christ as in the Church, because the" mystery 
 which we believe in the flesh of Christ, is con- 
 tained also by faith in the Church. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Of the longing with which the old patriarchs desired to see the 
 revelation of that mystery. 
 
 This mystery then, which was manifested in 
 the flesh and appeared in the world, and was 
 preached to the Gentiles, many of the saints of 
 old longed to see in the flesh, as they foresaw 
 it in the spirit. For "Verily," saith the Lord, 
 " I say unto you that many prophets and 
 righteous men have desired to see the things 
 which ye see, and have not seen them ; and to 
 hear the things which ye hear and have not 
 heard them." 7 And so the prophet Isaiah 
 says : " O that Thou, Lord, would rend the 
 heavens and come down," 8 and David too : 
 "O Lord, bow the heavens and come down." 9 
 Moses also says : " Show me Thyself that I 
 may see Thee plainly." 10 No one ever ap- 
 proached nearer to God speaking out of the 
 clouds, and to the very presence of His glory 
 than Moses who received the law. And if no 
 one ever saw more closely into God than he 
 did, why did he ask for a still clearer vision, 
 saying, " Show me Thyself that I may see Thee 
 plainly " ? Simply because he prayed that this 
 
 Gal. iv. 26. 
 
 S. Matt. xiii. 17. 
 
 8 Isa. lxiv. 1. 10 Exod. xxxiii. 13. 
 
 9 Ps. xcliii. (cxliv). 5. 
 
590 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 might happen which the apostle tells us in 
 almost the same words actually did happen ; 
 viz., that the Lord might be openly manifested 
 in the flesh, might openly appear to the world, 
 openly be received up in glory ; and that at 
 last the saints might with their very bodily 
 eyes see all those things which with spiritual 
 sight they had foreseen. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 He refutes the wicked and blasphemous notion of the here- 
 tics who said that God dwelt and spoke in Christ as in an 
 instrument or a statue. 
 
 Otherwise, as the heretics say, God would 
 be in the Lord Jesus Christ as in a statue or 
 in an instrument, i.e., He would dwell as it 
 were in a man and speak as it were through a 
 man, and it would not be He who dwelt and 
 spoke as God of Himself and in His own 
 body : and certainly He had already thus 
 dwelt in the saints and spoken in the per- 
 sons of the saints. In those men too, of 
 whom I spoke above, who had prayed for 
 His advent, He had thus dwelt and spoken. 
 And what need was there for all these to ask 
 for what they already possessed, if they were 
 seeking for what they had previously received ? 
 Or why should they long to see with their eyes 
 what they were keeping in their hearts, espe- 
 cially as it is better for a man to have the 
 same thing within himself than to see it out- 
 side ? Or if God was to dwell in Christ in the 
 same way as in all the saints, why should all 
 the saints long to see Christ rather than them- 
 selves ? And if they were only to see the 
 same thing in Jesus Christ, which they them- 
 selves possessed, why should they not much 
 rather prefer to have this in themselves than 
 to see it in another ? But you are wrong, you 
 wretched madman, "not understanding," as 
 the Apostle says, " what you say and whereof 
 you affirm " : 1 for all the prophets and all the 
 saints received from God some portion of the 
 Divine Spirit as they were able to bear it. 
 But in Christ " all the fulness of the God- 
 head " dwelt and " dwells bodily." And there- 
 fore they all fall far short of His fulness, from 
 whose fulness they receive something : for the 
 fact that they are filled is the gift of Christ : 
 because they would all certainly be empty, 
 were He not the fulness of all. 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 What the prayers of the saints for the coming of Messiah 
 contained; and what was the nature of that longing of 
 theirs. 
 
 This then all the saints wished for : for this 
 they prayed. This they longed to see with 
 their eyes in proportion as they were wise in 
 heart and mind. And so the prophet Isaiah 
 says : " O that Thou wouldst rend the heavens 
 and come down." 2 But Habakkuk too de- 
 claring the same thing which the other was 
 wishing for, says : " When the years draw nigh, 
 Thou wilt show Thyself : at the coming of the 
 times Thou wilt be manifested : God will come 
 from Teman," or " God will come from the 
 south." 3 David also : " God will clearly 
 come : " and again : " Thou that sittest above 
 the Cherubim, show Thyself." 4 Some de- 
 clared His advent which He presented to the 
 world : others prayed for it. Some in different 
 forms but all with equal longing : understand- 
 ing up to a certain point how great a thing 
 they were praying for, that God dwelling in 
 God, and continuing in the form and bosom 
 of God, might " empty Himself," 5 and take 
 the form of a servant and submit Himself to 
 endure all the bitterness and insults of the pas- 
 sion, and undergo punishment for His good- 
 ness, and what is hardest, and the most dis- 
 graceful thing of all, meet with death at the 
 hands of those very persons for whom He 
 would die. All the saints then understanding 
 this up to a certain point — up to a certain 
 point, I say, for how vast it is none can under- 
 stand — with concordant voice and (so to speak) 
 by mutual consent all prayed for the advent 
 of God : for indeed they knew that the hope of 
 all men lay therein, and that the salvation 
 of all was bound up in this, because no one 
 could loose the prisoners except one who was 
 Himself free from chains : no one could re- 
 lease sinners, save one Himself without sin : 
 for no one can in any case set free anyone, 
 unless he is himself free in that particular, in 
 which another is freed by him. And so when 
 death had passed on all, all were wanting in 
 life, that, dying in Adam, they might live in 
 Christ. For though there were many saints, 
 many elect and even friends of God, yet none 
 could ever of themselves be saved, had they 
 not been saved by the advent of the Lord and 
 His redemption. 
 
 2 Isa. lxiv. i. 
 
 3 Hab. iii. 2, 3, where the Old Latin has "Theman,'' and the 
 Vulgate "Austro." 
 
 4 Ps. xlix. (1.) 3; lxxix. (lxxx.) 2. ° Phil. ii. 7. 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 591 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 From the miracle of the feeding of the multitude from five 
 barley loaves and two fishes he shows the majesty of Divine 
 Power. 
 
 We read in the gospel that when five loaves 
 were at the Lord's bidding brought to Him, 
 an immense number of God's people were fed 
 with them. But how this was done it is im- 
 possible to explain, or to understand or to 
 imagine. So great and so incomprehensible 
 is the might of Divine Power, that though we 
 are perfectly assured of the fact, yet we are 
 unable to understand the manner of the fact. 
 For first one would have to comprehend how 
 so small a number of loaves could be sufficient, 
 I will not say for them to eat and be filled, but 
 even to be divided and set before them, when 
 there were many more thousands of men 
 than there were loaves ; and almost more 
 companies than there could be fragments of 
 the whole number of loaves. The plentiful 
 supply then was the creation of the word of 
 the Lord. The work grew in the doing of it. 
 And though what was visible was but little ; 
 yet what was given to them became more than 
 could be reckoned. There is then no room 
 for conjecture, for human speculation, or imagi- 
 nation. The only thing in such a case is that 
 like faithful and wise men we should acknow- 
 ledge that, however great and incomprehen- 
 sible are the things which are done by God, 
 even if they are altogether beyond our com- 
 prehension, we must recognize that nothing is 
 impossible with God. But of these unspeak- 
 able acts of Divine Power, we will, as the sub- 
 ject demands it, speaks more fully later on, 
 because it exactly corresponds to the ineffable 
 miracles of His Holy Nativity. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The author adapts the mystery of the number seven (made up 
 of ihefve loaves and two fishes) to his own work. 
 
 Meanwhile as we have alluded to the five 
 loaves, I think it will not be out of place to 
 make a comparison of the five books which we 
 have already composed. For as they are 
 equal in number, so they are not dissimilar in 
 character. For as the loaves were of barley, 
 so these books may (as far as my ability is 
 concerned) be fairly termed " of barley," 
 although they are enriched with passages from 
 
 Holy Scripture, and contain life-giving trea- 
 sures in contemptible surroundings. And even 
 in this point they are not unlike those loaves, 
 for though they were poor things to look at, 
 yet they proved to be rich in blessing : and so 
 these books, though, as far as my powers are 
 concerned, they are worthless, yet they are 
 valuable from the sacred matter which is 
 mingled with them : and though they appear 
 outwardly worthless like barley owing to my 
 words, yet within they have the savour of the 
 bread of life owing to the testimonies from 
 the Lord Himself. It remains that, after His 
 example, they may, by the gift of Divine grace, 
 furnish life-giving food from countless seeds. 
 And as those loaves supplied bodily strength 
 to those who ate them, so may these give 
 spiritual vigour to those who read them. But 
 as then the Lord, from whom this gift comes 
 as did that, by means of that food provided 
 that they might be filled and so should not 
 faint by the way, so now is He able to bring it 
 about that by means of this men may be filled 
 and not err (from the faith). But still because 
 there, where a countless host of God's people 
 was fed with a mighty gift, though there was 
 very little for them to eat, we read that to 
 those five loaves there were added two fishes, it 
 is fitting that we too, who are anxious to give 
 to all God's people who are following, the 
 nourishment of a spiritual repast, should add 
 to those five books corresponding to the five 
 loaves, two more books corresponding to the 
 two fishes : praying and beseeching Thee, O 
 Lord, that Thou wilt look on our efforts and 
 prayers, and grant a prosperous issue to our 
 pious undertaking. And since we, out of our 
 love and obedience, desire to make the num- 
 ber of qur books correspond to the number of 
 loaves and fishes, do Thou grant the virtue 
 of Thy Benediction upon them ; and, as Thou 
 dost bless x this little work of ours with a gospel 
 number, so mayest Thou fill up the number 
 with the fruit of the gospel, and grant that this 
 may be for holy and saving food to all the 
 people of Thy Church, of every age and sex. 
 And if there are some who are affected by the 
 deadly breath of that poisonous serpent, and 
 in an unhealthy state of soul and spirit have 
 caught a pestilential disease in their feeble dis- 
 positions, give to them all the vigour of health, 
 and entire soundness of faith, that by grant- 
 ing to them all, by means of these writings of 
 ours, the saving care of Thy gift — just as 
 
 1 Muneraris, (Petschenig) : Gazaeus reads numeraris. 
 
592 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 that food in the gospel was completely sanc- 
 tified by Thee, so that by eating it those 
 hungry souls were strengthened, — so mayest 
 Thou bid languid souls to be healed by these. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 He refutes his opponent by the testiomny of the Council 
 of Antioch. 
 
 Therefore since we have, as I fancy, 
 already in all the former books with the 
 weight of sacred testimonies, given a com- 
 plete answer to the heretic who denies God, 
 now let us come to the faith of the Creed of 
 Antioch and its value. For as he 1 was him- 
 self baptized and regenerated in this, he 
 ought to be confuted by his own profession, 
 and (so to speak) to be crushed beneath the 
 weight of his own arms, for this is the method, 
 that as he is already convicted by the evi- 
 dence of holy Scripture, so now he may be 
 convicted by evidence out of his own mouth. 
 Nor will there be any need to bring anything 
 else to bear against him when he has clearly 
 and plainly convicted himself. The text then 
 and the faith of the Creed of Antioch is this. 2 
 " I believe in one and the only true God, the 
 Father Almighty, Maker of all things visible 
 and invisible. And in one Lord Jesus Christ, 
 His only begotten Son, and the first-born of 
 every creature, begotten of Him before all 
 worlds, and not made : Very God of Very God, 
 Being of one substance with the Father : By 
 whom both the worlds were framed, and all 
 things were made. Who for us came, and was 
 born of the Virgin Mary, and was crucified 
 under Pontius Pilate and was buried : and 
 
 1 Nestorius, who had belonged to the monastery of St. Eupre- 
 pius near the gate of Antioch before his elevation to the see of 
 Constantinople. 
 
 2 This creed is plainly given by Cassian as the baptismal formula 
 of the Church of Antioch ; and with it agrees almost verbally a frag- 
 ment of the Creed preserved in a Contestntio comparing. Nestorius 
 to Paul of Samosata (a.d. 429, or 430) which is said by Leontius to 
 have been the work of Eusebius afterward Bishop of Dorylasum. 
 The form is especially interesting as showing that the Creed of 
 Antioch, in common with several other Eastern Creeds, underwent 
 revision, probably about the middle of the fourth century, from the 
 desire to enrich the local creed with Nicene phraseology. The in- 
 sertions which are obviously due to the Creed of Nicaea are : non fac- 
 tum, Deum verum ex Deo vero, homoousion patri, or as they would 
 run in the original ov noi-qQevTa, Qebv aAr)Qt.vbv eK 0coO akiOtvou, 
 6)xoov<tlov tcu HaTpi, and it has been suggested that thev were pro- 
 bably introduced at the Synod held at Antioch. under Meletius in 363. 
 Similar forms of local creeds thus enlarged bv the adoption of Nicene 
 phraseology are (1) that of Jerusalem as given bv Cyril in his Cate- 
 chetical Lectures, (2) the Creed of Cappadocia, (3) that of Mesopo- 
 tamia, and (4) the "Creed of Charisius " preserved in the Acts of 
 the Council of Ephesus (Mansi IV. 1348). On all of these see 
 Dr. Hort's "Two Dissertations," p. no so. 
 
 Another interesting feature in the Creed as given by Cassian is 
 that it was in the singular " Credo," /believe; whereas the Eastern 
 Creeds are almost all in the plural Triarevoixtv. That however 
 which is found in the Apostolical Constitutions (VII. xli.) has the 
 singular iricTTevta ko.1 /3a7rTi<,"o/xai, and therefore it is possible that 
 Cassian may have preserved the original form here. It is however 
 more probable that the singular Credo is due to a reminiscence of 
 the form current in the Western church, which has influenced the 
 translation. See further Hahn's Bibliothek des Symbole p. 64 sg. 
 
 the third day He rose again according to the 
 Scripture : and ascended into heaven, and 
 shall come again to judge the quick and the 
 dead," etc. 3 In the Creed which gives the 
 faith of all the Churches, I should like to know 
 which you would rather follow, the authority 
 of men or of God ? Though I would not 
 press hardly or unkindly upon you, but give 
 the opportunity of choosing whichever alter- 
 native you please, that accepting one, I may 
 deny the other : for I will grant you and 
 yield to you either of them. And what do I 
 grant, I ask ? I will force you to one or other 
 even against your will. For you ought, if you 
 like, to understand of your own free will that 
 one or other of these is in the Creed : if you 
 don't like it, you must be forced against your 
 will to see it. For, as you know, a Creed 
 (Symbolum) gets its name from being a " col- 
 lection." 4 For what is called in Greek oL/tfiolo; 
 is termed in Latin "Collatio." But it is there- 
 fore a collection (collatio) because when the 
 faith of the whole Catholic law was collected 
 together by the apostles of the Lord, all those 
 matters which are spread over the whole body 
 of the sacred writings with immense fulness 
 of detail, were collected together in sum in the 
 matchless brevity of the Creed, according to 
 to the Apostle's words : " Completing His 
 word, and cutting it short in righteousness : 
 because a short word shall the Lord make 
 upon the earth." 5 This then is the " short 
 word " which the Lord made, collecting to- 
 gether in few words the faith of both of His 
 Testaments, and including in a few brief 
 clauses the drift of all the Scriptures, build- 
 ing up His own out of His own, and giving 
 the force of the whole law in a most compen- 
 
 3 Cassian nowhere quotes the last section of the Creed of Anti- 
 och, as it did not concern the question at issue. A few clauses of it 
 may however be recovered from S. Chrysostom's Homilies (In 
 1 Cor. Horn. xl. § 2); viz., koll eis AfxapTiuiv a<fxaiv Kal eis vtKpiov 
 avatJTa.mv Kal c'ls ^torjv aiuitviov- 
 
 4 Sytnboltis, or more commonly and correctly Symbolum (= avix- 
 $oAoi') is the general name for the creed in the ancient church, met 
 with from the days of Cyprian (who uses it more than once, e.g., 
 Ep. lxix.) onwards. In the account which Cassian gives in the text 
 of the origin of the name he is certainly copying Rufinus (whose ex- 
 position of the Apostles' Creed is directly quoted by him below in 
 Book VII. c. xxvii.). The passage which Cassian evidently has in 
 his mind is the following: " Moreover for many and excellent rea- 
 sons they determined that it should be called Symbolum. For ' Sym- 
 bolum ' in Greek mav mean both Indicium (a token) and collatio (a 
 collection), that is, that which several bring together into one ; for the 
 apostles effected this in these sentences by bringing together into 
 one what each thought good. . . . Therefore being about to depart 
 to preach, the apostles appointed that token of their unanimity and 
 faith." (Ruf. De Symb. § 2). Cf. also § 1. " In these words there 
 is truly discovered the prophecy which says : ' Completing His work 
 and cutting it short in righteousness, because a short word will the 
 Lord make upon the earth.' " This explanation, however, of the 
 origin of the term labours under the fatal mistake of confusing two 
 distinct Greek words <jvp.fic\ri a " collection," and ayp.fio\ov a 
 "watchword:" and the true explanation of the word is probably 
 that which Rufinus gives as an alternative, which gives it the mean- 
 ing of "watchword^" It was the watchword of the Christian sol- 
 dier, carefullv and jealously guarded by him, as that by which he 
 could himself be distinguished from heretics, and that for which 
 he could challenge others of whose orthodoxy he might be in doubt. 
 
 c Rom. ix. 2S. 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 593 
 
 dious and brief formula. Providing in this, 
 like a most tender father, for the carelessness 
 and ignorance of some of his children, that 
 no mind however simple and ignorant might 
 have any trouble over what could so easily be 
 retained in the memory. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 How the Creed has authority Divine as well as human. 
 
 You see then that the Creed has the author- 
 ity of God : for " a short word will the Lord 
 make upon the earth." But perhaps you 
 want the authority of men : nor is that want- 
 ing, for God made it by means of men. For 
 as He fashioned the whole body of the sacred 
 Scriptures by means of the patriarchs and more 
 particularly his own prophets, so He formed 
 the Creed by means of His apostles and priests. 
 And whatever He enlarged on in these (in Scrip- 
 ture) with copious and abundant material, lie 
 here embraced in a most complete and com- 
 pendious form by means of His own servants. 
 There is nothing wanting then in the Creed ; 
 because as it was formed from the Scriptures 
 of God by the apostles of God, it has in it all 
 the authority it can possibly have, whether of 
 men or of God : Although too that which was 
 made by men, must be accounted God's work, 
 for we should not look on it so much as their 
 work, by whose instrumentality it was made, 
 but rather as His, who was the actual maker. 
 " I believe," then, says the Creed, " in one true 
 and only God, the Father Almighty, Maker of 
 all things visible and invisible ; and in one 
 Lord Jesus Christ, His only begotten Son, 
 and the first-born of every creature ; Begotten 
 of Him before all worlds, and not made ; Very 
 God of Very God, being of one substance with 
 the Father ; by whom both the worlds were 
 framed and all things were made ; who for us 
 came, and was born of the Virgin Mary; and 
 was crucified under Pontius Pilate, and was 
 buried. And the third day He rose again ac- 
 cording to the Scriptures ; and ascended into 
 heaven : and shall come again to judge the 
 quick and die dead," etc. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 He proceeds against his opponent with the choicest arguments, 
 and shows that we ought to hold fast to the religion which 
 we have received from our fathers. 
 
 If you were an assertor of the Arian or Sa- 
 bellian heresy, and did not use your own 
 creed, I would still confute you by the authority 
 of the holy Scriptures ; I would confute you by 
 
 the words of the law itself ; I would refute you 
 by the truth of the Creed which has been ap- 
 proved throughout the whole world. I would 
 say that, even if you were void of sense and 
 understanding, yet still you ought at least to 
 follow universal consent : and not to make 
 more of the perverse view of a few wicked men 
 than of the faith of all the Churches : which 
 as it was established by Christ, and handed 
 down by the apostles ought to be regarded as 
 nothing but the voice of the authority of God, 
 which is certainly in possession of the voice and 
 mind of God. And what then if I were to deal 
 with you in this way ? What would you say ? 
 What would you answer ? Would it not, I ad- 
 jure you, be this : viz., that you had not been 
 trained up and taught in this way : that some- 
 thing different had been delivered to you by 
 your parents, and masters, and teachers. That 
 you did not hear this in the meeting place of 
 your father's teaching, nor in the Church of 
 your Baptism : finally that the text and words 
 of the Creed delivered and taught to you con- 
 tained something different. That in it you 
 were baptized and regenerated. You would 
 say that you would hold fast this which you 
 had received, and that you would live in that 
 Creed in which you learnt that you were re- 
 generated. When you said this, would you not, 
 I pray, fancy that you were using a very strong 
 shield even against the truth ? And indeed it 
 would be no unreasonable defence, even in a 
 bad business, and one which would give no bad 
 excuse for error, if it did not unite obstinacy 
 with error. For if you held this, which you 
 had received from your childhood, we should 
 try to amend and correct your present error, 
 rather than be severe in punishing your past 
 fault : Whereas now, as you were born in a 
 Catholic city, instructed in the Catholic faith, 
 and regenerated with Catholic Baptism, how 
 can I deal with you as with an Arian or Sabel- 
 lian ? Would that you were one ! I should 
 grieve less had you been brought up in what 
 was wrong, instead of having fallen away from 
 what was right : had you never received the 
 faith, instead of having lost it : had you been 
 an old heretic instead of a fresh apostate, for 
 you would have brought less scandal and 
 harm on the whole Church; finally it would 
 have been a less bitter sorrow, and less injuri- 
 ous example had you been able to try the 
 Church as a layman rather than a priest. 
 Therefore, as I said above, if you had been a 
 follower and assertor of Sabellianism or Arian- 
 ism or any heresy you please, you might shel- 
 ter yourself under the example of your parents, 
 the teaching of your instructors, the company 
 of those about you, the faith of your creed. I 
 ask, O you heretic, nothing unfair, and nothing 
 
594 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 hard. As you have been brought up in the is the same as your own ? " I believe " the 
 Catholic faith, do that which you would do for Creed says, " in one God, the Father Almighty 
 a wrong belief. Hold fast to the teaching of Maker of all things visible and invisible ■ and 
 your parents. Hold fast the faith of the in the Lord Jesus Christ, His only begotten 
 Church : hold fast the truth of the Creed : hold Son, the first-born of every creature ; Begotten 
 fast the salvation of baptism. What sort of a of Him before all worlds, and not made." It 
 wondei — what sort of a monster are you ? , is well that you should first reply to this : Do 
 You will not do for yourself what others have you confess this of Jesus Christ the Son of 
 done for their errors. But we have launched God, or do you deny it ? If you confess it 
 
 out far enough : and out of love for a city that 
 is connected with us, 1 have yielded to our 
 grief as to a strong wind, and while we were 
 anxious to make way, have overshot the mark 
 of our proper course. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Once more he challenges 
 
 him to the profession of the Creed of 
 Antioch. 
 
 The Creed then, O you heretic, of which 
 we gave the text above, though it is that of 
 all the churches (for the faith of all is but one) 
 is yet specially that of the city and Church of 
 Antioch, i.e., of that Church in which you were 
 brought up, instructed, and regenerated. The 
 faith of this Creed brought you to the fountain 
 of life, to saving regeneration, to the grace of 
 the Eucharist, to the Communion of the Lord : 
 And what more ! Alas for the grievous and 
 mournful complaint ! Even to the ministerial 
 office, the height of the presbyterate, the dig- 
 nity of the priesthood. Do you, you wretched 
 madman, think that this is a light or trivial 
 matter? Do you not see what you have done? 
 
 everything is right enough. But if not, how 
 do you now deny what you yourself formerly 
 confessed ? Choose then which you will : Of 
 two things one must follow; viz., that that 
 same confession of yours, if it still holds good, 
 should alone set you free, or if you deny it, be 
 the first to condemn you. For you said in the 
 Creed : " I believe in one Lord Jesus Christ 
 His only begotten Son, and the first-born of 
 every creature." If the Lord Jesus Christ is 
 the only begotten, and the first-born of every 
 creature, then by our own confession He is 
 certainly God. For no other is the only be- 
 gotten and first-born of every creature but the 
 only begotten Son of God : as He is the first- 
 born of the creatures, so He is also God the 
 Creator of all. And how can you say that He 
 was a mere man at His birth from the Virgin, 
 whom you confessed to be God before the 
 world. Next the Creed says : " Begotten of 
 the Father before all worlds, and not made." 
 This Creed was uttered by you. You said by 
 your Creed, that Jesus Christ was begotten 
 before the worlds of God the Father, and not 
 made. Does the Creed say anything about 
 those phantasms, of which you now rave ? 
 Did you yourself say anything about them ? 
 Where is the statue ? Where that instrument 
 of yours, I pray? For God forbid that this 
 
 Into what a depth you have plunged yourself ? ' sho 1 uld be another's and not yours Where is 
 In losing the faith of the Creed, you have lost i * £** 5™, assertthat the Lori Jesus Christ 
 
 everything that you were. For the mysteries 
 of the priesthood and of your salvation rested 
 on the truth of the Creed. Can you possibly 
 deny that ? I say that you have denied your 
 very self. But perhaps you think that you 
 cannot deny yourself. Let us look at the text 
 of the Creed ; that if you say what you used to 
 do, you may not be refuted, but if you say 
 things widely different and contrary, you may 
 not look to be confuted by me, as you have 
 condemned yourself already. For if you now 
 maintain something else than what is in the 
 Creed and what you formerly maintained your- 
 self, how can you help ascribing your punish- 
 ment to nobody but yourself, when you see 
 that the opinion of everybody else about you 
 
 1 Viz., Constantinople, where N'estorius was Bishop and where 
 Cassian himself had been ordained deacon by S. Chrysostom, as he 
 telis us below in Eook VII. c. xxxi., where he returns to the subject 
 of his love for the city of his ordination, and interest in it. 
 
 is like a statue, and so you think that He ought 
 to be worshipped not because He is God, but 
 because He is the image of God ; and out of 
 the Lord of glory you make an instrument, 
 and blasphemously say that He ought to be 
 adored not for His own sake, but for the sake 
 of Him who (as it were) breathes in Him and 
 sounds through Him ? You said in the Creed 
 that the Lord Jesus Christ was begotten of the 
 Father before all worlds, and not made : and 
 this certainly belongs to none but the only be- 
 gotten Son of God : that His birth should not 
 be a creation, and that He could be said simply 
 to be begotten, not made : for it is contrary to 
 the nature of things and to His honour that 
 the Creator of all should be believed to be a 
 creature : and that He, the author of all things 
 that have a commencement, should Himself 
 have a beginning, as all things began from 
 Him. And so we say that He was begotten 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 595 
 
 not made: for His generation was unique and 
 no ordinary creation. And since He is God, 
 begotten of God, the Godhead of Him who is 
 begotten must have everything complete which 
 the majesty of Him who begat has. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 He continues the same line of argument drawn from the 
 Creed of Antioch. 
 
 But there follows in the Creed : " Very 
 God of Very God ; Being of one substance 
 with the Father ; by whom both the worlds 
 were framed, and all things were made." And 
 when you said all this, remember that you 
 said it all of the Lord Jesus Christ. For you 
 find stated in the Creed : that you believe in 
 the Lord Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son 
 of God, and the first-born of every creature : 
 and after this and other clauses : " Very God 
 of Very God, Being of one substance with 
 the Father ; by whom also the worlds were 
 framed." How then can the same Person be 
 God and not God ; God and a statue ; God 
 and an instrument ? These do not harmo- 
 nize, you heretic, in any one Person, nor do 
 they fit together, so that you can, when you 
 like, call Him God ; and when you like, con- 
 sider the same Person a creation. You said 
 in the Creed, " Very God." Now you say : 
 " a mere man." How can these things fit 
 together and harmonize so that one and the 
 same Person may be the greatest Power, and 
 utter weakness : the Highest glory, and mere 
 mortality ? These things do not meet together 
 in one and the same Lord. So that severing 
 Him for worship and for degradation, on one 
 side, you may do Him honour as you like, 
 and on the other, you may injure Him as you 
 like. You said in the Creed when you re- 
 ceived the Sacrament of true Salvation : " the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, Very God of Very God, 
 Being of one substance with the Father, 
 Creator of the worlds, Maker of all things." 
 Where are you alas ! Where is your former 
 self ? Where is that faith of yours ? Where 
 that confession ? How have you fallen back 
 'and become a monstrosity and a prodigy ? 
 What folly, what madness was your ruin ? 
 You turned the God of all power and might 
 into inanimate material and a lifeless creation : 
 Your faith has certainly grown in time, in age, 
 and in the priesthood. You are worse as an 
 old man than formerly as a child : worse now 
 as a veteran than as a tyro : worse as a Bishop 
 than you were as a novice : nor were you ever 
 a learner after you had begun to be a teacher. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 How it can be said that Christ came and was born of a 
 Virgin. 
 
 But let us look at the remainder which 
 follows. As then the Creed says : " The Lord 
 Jesus Christ, Very God of Very God, Being of 
 one substance with the Father ; By whom both 
 the worlds were framed, and all things were 
 made," it immediately subjoins in closest con- 
 nexion the following, and says : " Who for us 
 came and was born of the Virgin Mary." He 
 then, who is Very God, who is of one sub- 
 stance with the Father, who is the Maker of 
 all things, He, I repeat, came into the world 
 and was born of the Virgin Mary; as the 
 Apostle Paul says : " But when the fulness of 
 the times was come, God sent forth His Son, 
 made of a woman, made under the law." 1 
 You see how the mysteries of the Creed corre- 
 spond with the Holy Scriptures. The Apostle 
 declares that the Son of Gcd was "sent from 
 the Father : " The Creed affirms that He 
 " came." For it certainly follows that our 
 faith should confess that He has " come," 
 whom the Apostle had taught us to be sent. 
 Then the Apostle says : " Made of a woman : " 
 The Creed, "born of Mary." And so you see 
 that there speaks through the Creed the Scrip- 
 ture itself, from which the Creed acknow- 
 ledges that it is itself derived. But when 
 the Apostle says, "made of a woman," he 
 rightly enough uses "made" for "born," after 
 the manner of Holy Scripture in which " made " 
 stands for "born:" as in this passage: "In- 
 stead of thy fathers there are made to thee 
 sons : " 2 or this : " Before Abraham was made, 
 I am ; " 3 where we certainly see clearly that 
 He meant " Before he was bcrn, I am : " 
 alluding to the fact of his birth under the 
 term "was made," because whatever does not 
 need to be made has the very reality of crea- 
 tion. "Who," it then says, "for us came and 
 was born of the Virgin Mary." If a mere 
 man was born of Mary, how can it be said 
 that He " came " ? For no one " comes " but 
 He who has it in Him to be able to come. 
 But in the case of one who had not yet re- 
 ceived His existence, how could He have it in 
 Him to come. You see then how by the 
 word " coming " it is shown that He who came 
 was already in existence : for He only had the 
 power to come, to whom there could be the 
 opportunity of coming, from the fact that He 
 was already existing. But a mere man was 
 certainly not in existence before he was con- 
 ceived, and so had not in himself the power 
 
 : Gal. iv. 4. 
 
 2 Ps. xliv. (xlv.) 17. 
 
 S. John viii. 
 
596 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 to come. It is clear then that it was God who 
 came : to whom it belongs in each case both 
 to be, and to come. For certainly He came be- 
 cause He was, and He ever was, because He 
 could ever come. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Again he convicts his opponent of deadly heresy by his own 
 confession. 
 
 But why are we arguing about words, when 
 the facts are clear enough ? and seeking for a 
 determination of the matter from the terms 
 of the Creed, when the Creed itself deals with 
 the question. Let us repeat the confession of 
 the Creed, and of you yourself (for yours it is 
 as well as the Creed's, for you made it yours 
 by confessing it), that you may see that you 
 have departed not only from the Creed but 
 from yourself. " I believe " then, says the 
 Creed, " In one only true God, the Father 
 Almighty, Maker of all things visible and in- 
 visible : And in the Lord Jesus Christ, His 
 only begotten Son, and the first-born of every 
 creature : Begotten of Him before all worlds 
 and not made ; Very God of Very God ; Being 
 of one substance with the Father ; By whom 
 both the worlds were framed, and aft things 
 were made. Who for us came, and was born 
 of the Virgin Mary." " For us " then the 
 Creed says, our Lord Jesus Christ " came and 
 was born of the Virgin Mary, and was cruci- 
 fied under Pontius Pilate ; and was - buried, 
 and rose again according to the Scriptures." 
 The Churches are not ashamed to confess this : 
 the Apostles were not ashamed to preach it. 
 You yourself, you, I say, whose every utter- 
 ance is now blasphemy, you who now deny 
 everything, you did not deny all these truths : 
 that God was born ; that God suffered, that 
 God rose again. And what next ? Whither 
 have you fallen ? What have you become ? 
 To what are you reduced ? What do you say ? 
 What are you vomiting forth ? What, as one 
 says, even mad Orestes himself would swear 
 to be the words of a madman. 1 For what is 
 it that you say ? " Who then is the Son of 
 God who was born of the Christotocos ? As 
 for instance if we were to say I believe in God 
 the Word, the only Son of God, begotten of 
 His Father, Being of one substance with the 
 Father, who came down and was buried, would 
 not our ears be shocked at the sound ? God 
 dead ? " And again : " Can it possibly be, you 
 say, that He who was begotten before all 
 worlds, should be born a second time, and be 
 God ? " If all these things cannot possibly 
 be, how is it that the Creed of the Churches 
 
 1 Persius Sat. iii. 1. 116 
 non sanus juret Orestes." 
 
 "quod ipse non sani esse hominis 
 
 says that they did happen ? How is it that 
 you yourself said that they did ? For let us 
 compare what you now say with what you 
 formerly said. Once you said : " I believe in 
 God the Father Almighty ; and in Jesus Christ 
 His Son, Very God of Very God ; Being of 
 one substance with the Father ; who for us 
 came and was born of the Virgin Mary ; and 
 was crucified under Pontius Pilate ; and was 
 buried." But now what is it that you say? 
 "If we should say: I believe in God the 
 Word, the only Son of God, Begotten of His 
 Father ; Being of one substance with the 
 Father, who came down and was buried, would 
 not our ears be shocked at the sound? " The 
 bitterness indeed and blasphemy of your words 
 might drive us to a furious and ferocious attack 
 in answer ; but we must somewhat curb the 
 reins of our pious sorrow. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 He inveighs against him because though he has forsaken the 
 Catholic religion, he nevertheless presumes to teach in the 
 Church, to sacrifice, and to give decisions. 
 
 I appeal then to you, to you yourself, I say. 
 Tell me, I pray, if any Jew or pagan denied 
 the Creed of the Catholic faith, should you 
 think that we ought to listen to him ? Most 
 certainly not. What if a heretic or an apostate 
 does the same ? Still less should we listen to 
 him, for it is worse for a man to forsake the 
 truth which he has known, than to deny it 
 without ever having known it. We see then 
 two men in you : a Catholic and an apostate : 
 first a Catholic, afterwards an apostate. De- 
 termine for yourself which you think we ought 
 to follow : for you cannot press the claims of 
 the one in yourself without condemning the 
 other. Do you say then that it is your former 
 self which is to be condemned : and that you 
 condemn the Catholic Creed, and the confes- 
 sion and faith of all men ? And what then ? 
 O shameful deed! O wi etched grief! What 
 are you doing in the Catholic Church, you 
 preventer of Catholics ? Why is it that you, 
 who have denied the faith of the people, are 
 still polluting the meetings of the people : 
 And above all venture to stand at the altar, to 
 mount the pulpit, and show your impudent and 
 treacherous face to God's people — to occupy 
 the Bishop's throne, to exercise the priesthood, 
 to set yourself up as a teacher ?' To teach 
 the Christians what ? Not to believe in Christ : 
 to deny that He in whose Divine temple they 
 are, is God. 2 And after all this, O folly ! O 
 
 2 Petschenig's text is as follows : Ut quid doceas Christ ianos ? 
 Christum non credere, cum ipsum in cujus Dei templo shit Deum 
 negare. Gaza^us edits : Ut quid daces Christianas, Christum non 
 credens ? Cum ipsum, in cujus Dei templo sunt, Deum neges. 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 597 
 
 madness ! you fancy that you are a teacher 
 and a Bishop, while (O wretched blindness) 
 you are denying His Divinity, His Divinity 
 (I repeat it) whose priest you claim to be. 
 But we are carried away by our grief. What 
 then says the Creed ? or what did you yourself 
 say in the Creed ? Surely " the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, Very God of Very God ; Being of one 
 substance with the Father ; By whom the 
 worlds were created and all things made : " 
 and that this same Person " for us came and 
 was born of the Virgin Mary." Since then 
 you said that God was born of Mary, how can 
 you deny that Mary was the mother of God ? 
 Since you said that God came, how can you 
 deny that He is God who has come ? You 
 said in the Creed : " I believe in Jesus Christ 
 the Son of God : I believe in Very God of 
 Very God, of one substance with the Father : 
 who for us came and was born of the Virgin 
 Mary ; and was crucified under Pontius Pilate ; 
 and was buried." But now you say : " If we 
 should say, I believe in God the Word, the 
 only Son of God, Begotten of the Father, of 
 one substance with the Father ; who came 
 and was buried, would not our ears be shocked 
 at the sound ? " Do you see then how you are 
 utterly destroying and stamping out the whole 
 faith of the Catholic Creed and the Catholic 
 mystery ? " O Sin, O monstrosity, to be 
 driven away," as one says, 1 " to the utmost 
 parts of the earth : " for this is more truly said 
 of you, that you may forsooth go into that soli- 
 tude where you will not be able to find anyone 
 to ruin. You think then that the faith of our 
 salvation, and the mystery of the Church's 
 hope is a shock to your ears and hearing. 
 And how was it that formerly when you were 
 hastening to be baptized, you heard these 
 mysteries with unharmed ears ? How was it 
 that when the teachers of the church were in- 
 structing you your ears were not damaged ? 
 You certainly at that time did your duty with- 
 out any double shock to your mouth and ears ; 
 when you repeated what you heard from 
 others, and as the speaker yourself heard 
 yourself speaking. Where then were these 
 injuries to your ears ? Where these shocks to 
 your hearing ? Why did you not contradict 
 ' and cry out against it ? But indeed you are 
 at your will and fancy, when you please, a dis- 
 ciple ; and when you please, the Church's 
 enemy : when you please a Catholic, and when 
 you please an apostate. A worthy leader 
 indeed, to draw Churches after you, to what- 
 evar side you attach yourself ; to make your 
 will the law of our life, and to change man- 
 kind as you yourself change, that, as you will 
 
 1 Cicero in Verr. Act. II. Book 1. xv. 40. 
 
 not be what all others are, they may be what 
 you want ! 2 A splendid authority indeed, that 
 because you are not now what you used to be, 
 the world must cease to be what it formerly 
 was ! 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 He removes the silent objection of heretics who want to recant 
 the profession of their faith made in childhood. 
 
 But perhaps you say that you were a baby 
 when you were regenerated, and so were not 
 then able to think or to contradict. It is true : 
 that your infancy did prevent you from con- 
 tradicting, when if you had been a man you 
 would have died for contradicting. For what 
 if when in that most faithful and devout Church 
 of Christ the priest delivered the Creed 3 to the 
 Catechumen and the attesting people, you had 
 tried to hold your tongue at any point, or to 
 contradict ? Perhaps you would have been 
 heard, and not sent forth at once like some 
 new kind of monster or prodigy as a plague 
 to be expelled. Not because that most earnest 
 and religious people of God has any wish to 
 be stained with the blood of even the worst of 
 men : but because especially in great cities the 
 people inflamed with the love of God cannot 
 restrain the ardour of their faith when they see 
 anyone rise up against their God. But be it 
 so. As a baby, if it be so, you could not con- 
 tradict and deny the Creed. Why did you 
 hold your tongue when you were older and 
 stronger. At any rate you grew up, and be- 
 came a man, and were placed in the ministry 
 of the Church. Through all these years, 
 through all the steps of office and dignity, did 
 you never understand the faith which you 
 taught so long before ? At any rate you knew 
 that you were His deacon and priest. If the 
 rule of salvation was a difficulty to you, why 
 did you undertake the honour of that, of which 
 you disliked the faith ? But indeed you were 
 a far sighted and simply devout man, who 
 
 2 Ut, quia tu esse nolis quod omnes sint, omnes sint, quod tu velis 
 (Petschenis). Gazsus has: Et quia tu esse nolis quod omnes sunt, 
 quod tu velis : a text which he confesses must be corrupt. 
 
 3 The reference is the ceremony known as the Traditio Symboli, 
 which is thus described by Professor Lumby : " The practice of the 
 early church in the admission of converts to baptism seems to have 
 been of this nature. For some period previous to their baptism 
 (the usual seasons for which were Easter and Pentecost) the candi- 
 dates for admission thereto were trained in the doctrines of the faith 
 by the presbvters. A few days before they were to be baptized (the 
 number of days varying 'at different periods) the Creed was delivered 
 to them accompanied with a sermon. This ceremony was known 
 as Traditio Symboli, the delivery of the Creed. At the time of 
 Baptism each candidate was interrogated upon the articles of the 
 Creed which he had received, and was to return an answer in the 
 words which had been given to him. This was known as Redditio 
 Symboli. the repetition of the Creed, and Baptism was the only oc- 
 casion on which the Creed was introduced into any public service of 
 the Church." History of the Creeds, pp. it, 12. 
 
598 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 wished so to balance yourself between the two, 
 as to maintain both your wicked blasphemy, 
 and the honour of Catholicity ! 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Christ crucified is an offence and foolishness to those who 
 declare that He was a mere man. 
 
 The shock then to your hearing and ears is 
 that God was born, and God suffered. And 
 where is that saying of yours, O Apostle Paul : 
 " But we preach Christ crucified, to the Jews 
 indeed a stumbling block, but to the Gentiles 
 foolishness : but to them that are called, both 
 Jews and Greeks, Christ the Power of God and 
 the Wisdom of God." x What is the Wisdom 
 and Power of God ? Certainly it is God. But 
 he preaches Christ who was crucified, as the 
 Power and Wisdom of God. If then Christ 
 is without any doubt the Wisdom of God, He 
 is therefore without any doubt God. " We," 
 then, he says, " preach Christ crucified, to the 
 Jews indeed a stumbling block, but to the Gen- 
 tiles foolishness." And so the Lord's cross, 
 which was foolishness to the Gentiles and a 
 stumbling block to the Jews is both together 
 to you. Nor indeed is there any greater fool- 
 ishness than not to believe, or any greater 
 stumbling block than to refuse to listen. 
 Their ears were wounded then by the preach- 
 ing and the passion of God, just as yours are 
 wounded now. They thought as you think 
 that this shocked their ears. And hence it 
 was that when the Apostle was preaching 
 Christ as God, at the name of our God and 
 Lord Jesus Christ, they stopped the ears in 
 their head, as you stop the ears of your under- 
 standing. The sin of both of you in this mat- 
 ter might seem to be equal, were it not that 
 your fault is the greater, because they denied 
 Him, in whom the passion still showed the 
 manhood, 2 while you deny Him, whom the 
 resurrection has already proved to be God. 
 And so they were persecuting Him on the 
 earth, whom you are persecuting even in 
 heaven. And not only so, but this is more 
 cruel and wicked, because they denied Him in 
 ignorance, you deny Him after having received 
 the faith : they not knowing the Lord, you when 
 you have confessed Him as God : they under 
 cover of zeal for the law, you under the cloke 
 of your Bishopric : they denied Him to whom 
 they thought that they were strangers, you 
 deny Him whose priest you are. O unworthy 
 act, and one never heard of before ! You per- 
 secute and attack the very One, whose office 
 you are still holding. 
 
 1 i Cor. i. 23, 24. 
 
 2 Homo. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 He replies to the objection in which they say that the child 
 born 3 ought to be of one substance with the mother. 
 
 But indeed in your deceit and blasphemy 
 you use a grand argument for denying and 
 attacking the Lord God, when you say that 
 " the child born ought to be of one substance 
 with the mother." 4 I do not entirely admit 
 it, and maintain that in the matter of the birth 
 of God it would not be observed ; for the birth 
 was not so much the work of her who bore 
 Him as of her Son, and He was born as He 
 willed, whose doing it was that He was born. 
 Next, if you say that the child born ought to 
 be of one substance with the parent, I affirm 
 that the Lord Jesus Christ was of one sub- 
 stance with His Father, and also with His 
 mother. For in accordance with the differ- 
 ence of the Persons He showed a likeness to 
 each parent. For according to His Divinity 
 He was of one substance with the Father : 
 but according to the flesh He was of one sub- 
 stance with His mother. Not that it was one 
 Person who was of one substance with the 
 Father, and another who was of one substance 
 with His mother, but because the same Lord 
 Jesus Christ, both born as man, and also being 
 God, had in Him the properties of each parent, 
 and in that He was man He showed a likeness 
 to His human mother, and in that He was 
 God He possessed the very nature of God the 
 Father. 
 
 CHARTER XIV. 
 
 He compares this erroneous view with the teaching of the 
 Pelasnans. 
 
 Otherwise if Christ who was born of Mary 
 is not the same Person as He who is of God, 
 you certainly make two Christs ; after the 
 manner of that abominable error of- Pelagius, 
 which in asserting that a mere man was born 
 of the Virgin, said that He was the teacher 
 rather than the redeemer of mankind ; for He 
 did not bring to men redemption of life but 
 only an example of how to live, i.e., that by 
 following Him men should do the same sort 
 of things and so come to a similar state. 
 Your blasphemy then has but one source, and 
 the root of the errors is one and the same. 
 They maintain that a mere man was born of 
 Mary : you maintain the same. They sever 
 the Son of man from the Son of God : you do 
 the same. They say that the Saviour was 
 made the Christ by His baptism : you say that 
 in baptism He became the Temple of God. 
 
 Nativitas. 
 
 i HomooKsios par ■ietUi debet esse nativitas. 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 599 
 
 They do not deny that He became God after 
 His Passion : you deny Him even after His 
 ascension. In one point only therefore your 
 perverseness goes beyond theirs, for they seem 
 to blaspheme the Lord on earth, and you even 
 in heaven. We do not deny that you have 
 beaten and outstripped those whom you are 
 copying. They at last cease to deny God ; 
 you never do. Although theirs must not alto- 
 gether be deemed a true confession, as they 
 only allow the glory of Divinity to the Saviour 
 after His Passion, and while they deny that 
 He was God before this, only confess it after- 
 wards : for, as it seems to me, one who denies 
 some part in regard to God, denies Him alto- 
 gether : and one who does not confess that 
 He ever existed, denies Him forever. Just as 
 you also, even if you were to admit that now 
 in the heavens the Lord Jesus Christ, who was 
 born of the Virgin Mary, is God, would not 
 truly confess Him unless you admitted that 
 He was always God. But indeed you do not 
 want in any point to change or vary your 
 opinion. For you assert that He whom you 
 speak of as born a mere man, is still at the 
 present time not God. O novel and marvel- 
 lous blasphemy, though with the heretics you 
 assert Him to be man, you do not with the 
 heretics confess Him to be God ! 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 He shows that those who patronize this false teaching 
 acknowledge two Christs. 
 
 But still, I had begun to say, that as you 
 certainly make out two Christs this very mat- 
 ter must be illustrated and made clear. Tell 
 me, I pray you, you who sever Christ from the 
 Son of God, how can you confess in the Creed 
 that Christ was begotten of God ? For you 
 say : " I believe in God the Father, and in 
 Jesus Christ His Son." Here then you have 
 Jesus Christ the Son of God : but you say that 
 it was not the same Son of God who was born 
 of Mary. Therefore there is one Christ of 
 God, and another of Mary. In your view then 
 there are two Christs. For, though in the 
 Creed you do not deny Christ, you say that the 
 Christ of Mary is another than the one whom 
 you confess in the Creed. But perhaps you 
 say that Christ was not begotten of God : how 
 then do you say in the Creed : "I believe in 
 Jesus Christ the Son of God ? " You must 
 then either deny the Creed or confess that 
 Christ is the Son of God. But if you confess 
 in the Creed that Christ is the Son of God, 
 you must also confess that the same Christ, 
 the Son of God, is of Mary. Or if you make 
 
 out another Christ of Mary, you certainly make 
 the blasphemous assertion that there are two 
 Christs. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Me shows further that this teaching is destructive of the con- 
 fession of the Trinity. 
 
 But still even if your obstinacy and dis- 
 honesty are not restrained by this faith of the 
 Creed, are you not, I ask you, overwhelmed 
 by an appeal to reason and the light of truth ? 
 Tell me, I ask, whoever you are, O you here- 
 tic — At least there is a Trinity, in which we 
 believe, and which we confess : Father and 
 Son and Holy Ghost. Of the Glory of the 
 Father and the Spirit there is no question. 
 You are slandering the Son, because you say 
 that it was not the same Person who was born 
 of Mary, as He who was begotten of God the 
 Father. Tell me then : if you do not deny 
 that the only Son of God was begotten of God, 
 whom do you make out that He is who was 
 born of Mary ? You say " a mere man," ac- 
 cording to that which He Himself said: 
 "That which is born of the flesh, is flesh." 1 
 But He cannot be called a mere man who was 
 begotten not after the law of human creation 
 alone. " For that which is conceived in her," 
 said the angel, " is of the Holy Ghost." 2 And 
 this even you dare not deny, though you deny 
 almost all the mysteries of salvation. Since 
 then He was born of the Holy Ghost, and 
 cannot be termed a mere man, as He was 
 conceived by the inspiration of God, if it is 
 not He who, as the Apostle says. " emptied 
 Himself by taking the foim of a servant," and 
 " the word was made flesh,"' and " humbled 
 Himself by becoming obedient unto death," 
 and "who for our sakes, though He was rich, 
 became poor," 3 tell me, then, who He is, 
 who was born of the Holy Ghost, and was 
 conceived by the overshadowing of Gcd ? 
 You say that He is certainly a different Per- 
 son. Then there are two Persons ; viz., the 
 one, who was begotten of God the Father in 
 heaven ; and the other who was conceived of 
 Mary, by the inspiration of Gcd. And thus 
 there is a fourth Person whcm you introduce, 
 and whom (though in words you term Him a 
 mere man) you assert actually not to have 
 been a mere man, since you allow (not how- 
 ever as you ought) that He is to be honoured, 
 worshipped, and adored. Since then the Son 
 of God who was begotten of the Father is 
 certainly to be worshipped, and He who was 
 conceived of Mary by the Holy Ghost is to 
 
 1 St. John iii. 6. 2 S. Matt. i. 20. 
 
 3 Phil. ii. 7, 8; S. John i 14; 2 Cor. viii. 9. 
 
6oo 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 be worshipped, you make two Persons to be 
 honoured and venerated, whom you so far 
 sever from each other, as to venerate each 
 with an honour special and peculiar to Him. 
 And thus you see that by denying and by 
 severing from Himself the Son of God, you 
 destroy, as far as you can, the whole mystery 
 of the divinity. For while you are endeavour-, 
 ing to introduce a fourth Person into the Trin- 
 ity, 1 you see that you have utterly denied the 
 whole Trinity. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Those who are under an error in one point of the Catholic 
 religion, lose the whole faith, and all the value of the faith. 
 
 And since this is so, in denying that Jesus 
 Christ the Son of God is one, you have 
 denied everything. For the scheme of the 
 mysteries of the Church and the Catholic faith 
 is such that one who denies one portion of the 
 Sacred Mystery cannot confess the other. For 
 all parts of it are so bound up and united to- 
 gether that one cannot stand without the other, 
 and if a man denies one point out of the whole 
 number, it is of no use for him to believe all 
 the others. And so if you deny that the Lord 
 Jesus Christ is God, the result is that in deny- 
 ing the Son of God you deny the Father also. 
 For as St. John says : " He who hath not the 
 Son hath not the Father ; but he who hath the 
 Son hath the Father also." a By denying then 
 Him who was begotten you deny also Him 
 who begat. By denying also that the Son of 
 God was born in the flesh, you are led also to 
 deny that He was born in the Spirit, for it is 
 the same Person who was born in the flesh 
 who was first born in the Spirit. If you do 
 not believe that He was born in the flesh, the 
 result is that you do not believe that He suf- 
 fered. If you do not believe in His Passion 
 what remains for you but to deny His resur- 
 rection ? For faith in one raised springs out 
 of faith in one dead. Nor can the reference 
 to the resurrection keep its place, unless be- 
 lief in His death has first preceded it. By 
 denying then his Passion and Death, you deny 
 also his resurrection from hell. 3 It follows 
 certainly that you deny His ascension also, 
 for there cannot be the ascension without 
 the resurrection. And if we do not believe 
 that He rose again, we cannot either believe 
 that He ascended : as the Apostle says, " For 
 He that descended is the same also that as- 
 cended." 4 Thus, so far as you are concerned, 
 the Lord Jesus Christ did not rise from hell, 
 nor ascend into heaven, nor sit at the risrht 
 
 1 Cf. Augustine, Tr. 7S in Joan. 
 
 2 1 John ii. 23. 
 
 3 nb inferis. 
 
 4 Eph. iv. 10. 
 
 hand of God the Father, nor will He come at 
 that day of judgment which we look for, nor 
 will He judge the quick and the dead. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 He directs his discourse upon his antagonist with whom he is 
 disputing, and begs him to return to his senses. The sacra- 
 ment of reconciliation is necessary for the lapsed for their 
 salvation. 
 
 And so, you wretched, insane, obstinate crea- 
 ture, you see that you have utterly upset the 
 whole faith of the Creed, and all that is val- 
 uable in our hope and the mysteries. And 
 yet you still dare to remain in the Church : 
 and imagine that you are a priest, though you 
 have denied everything by which you came to 
 be a priest. Return then to the right way, 
 and recover your former mind, return to your 
 senses if you ever had any. Come to your- 
 self, if there ever was in you a self to which 
 you can come back. Acknowledge the sacra- 
 ments of your salvation, by which you were 
 initiated and regenerated. They are of no 
 less use to you now than they were then ; for 
 they can now regenerate you by penance, as 
 they then gave you birth through the Font. 
 Hold fast the full scheme of the Creed. 
 Hold the entire truth of the faith. Believe 
 in God the Father : believe in God the Son : 
 in one who begat and one who was begotten, 
 the Lord of all, Jesus Christ ; Being of one 
 substance with the Father; Begotten in His 
 divinity ; born in the flesh : of twofold birth, 
 yet of but one glory ; who Himself creator of 
 all things, was begotten of the Father, and 
 was afterwards born of the Vinrin. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 That the birth of Christ in time diminished nothing of the 
 glory and power of His Deity. 
 
 For the fact that He came of the flesh and 
 in the flesh, has reference to His birth, and 
 involves no diminution in Him : and He was 
 simply born, not changed for the worse. 5 For 
 though, still remaining in the form of God, He 
 took upon Him the form of a servant, yet the 
 weakness of His human constitution had no 
 effect on His nature as God : but while the 
 power of His Deity remained whole and unim- 
 paired, all that took place in His human flesh 
 was an advancement of His manhood and no 
 diminution of His glory. For when God was 
 born in human flesh, Fie was not born in 
 human flesh in such a way as not to remain 
 
 Demutatus. 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 60 1 
 
 Divine in Himself, but so that, while the God- 
 head remained as before, God might become 
 man. And so Martha while she saw with her 
 bodily eyes the man, confessed Him by spiri- 
 tual sight to be God, saying, " Yea, Lord, I have 
 believed that Thou art the Christ the Son of 
 the living God, who art come into the world." x 
 So Peter, owing to the Holy Spirit's revelation, 
 while externally he beheld the Son of man, 
 yet proclaimed Him to be the Son of God, 
 saying, "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the 
 living God." 2 So Thomas when he touched 
 the flesh, believed that he had touched God. 
 saying, " My Lord and my God." 3 For they 
 all confessed but one Christ, so as not to make 
 Him two. Do you therefore believe Him ; 
 and so believe that Jesus Christ the Lord of 
 all, both only Begotten and first-born, is both 
 Creator of all things and Preserver of men ; 
 and that the same Person is first the framer 
 of the whole world, and afterwards redeemer of 
 mankind ? Who still remaining with the 
 Father and in the Father, Being of one sub- 
 stance with the Father, did (as the Apostle 
 says), " Take the form of a servant, and hum- 
 ble Himself even unto death, the death of the 
 Cross : " 4 and (as the Creed says) " was born of 
 the Virgin Mary, crucified under Pontius Pi- 
 late, and was buried. And the third day He 
 rose again according to the Scriptures ; and 
 ascended into heaven ; and shall come again to 
 judge both the quick and the dead." This is 
 our faith ; this is our salvation : to believe that 
 our God and Lord Jesus Christ is one and the 
 same before all things and after all things. 
 For, as it is written, " Jesus Christ is yester- 
 day and today and the same for ever." 5 For 
 " yesterday " signifies all time past, wherein, 
 before the beginning, He was begotten of the 
 Father. " Today " covers the time of this 
 world, in which He was again born of the Vir- 
 gin, suffered, and rose again. But by the ex- 
 pression the same " for ever " is denoted the 
 whole boundless eternity to come. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 He shows from what has been said that we do not mean that 
 God was mortal or of flesh before the worlds, although Christ, 
 ' who is God from eternity and was made man in time, is but 
 one Person. 
 
 But perhaps you will say: If. I admit that 
 the same Person was in the end of time born 
 of a Virgin, who was begotten before all things 
 of God the Father, I shall imply that be- 
 fore the beginning of the world God was in 
 the flesh, as I say that He was afterwards 
 
 1 S. Tohn xi. 27. 
 
 2 S. Matt. xvi. 16. 
 
 3 S. John xx. 28. 
 
 4 Phil. ii. 7, 8. 
 
 6 Heb. xiii. 8. 
 
 man, who was always God : and so I shall say 
 that that man who was afterwards born, had 
 always existed. I do not want you to be con- 
 fused by this blind ignorance, and these ob- 
 scure misconceptions, so as to fancy that I am 
 maintaining that the manhood 6 which was 
 born of Mar)' had existed before the beginning 
 of things, or asserting that God was always in 
 a bodily form before the commencement of the 
 world. I do not say, I repeat it, I do not say 
 that the manhood was in Cod before it was 
 born : but that God was afterwards born in the 
 manhood. For that flesh which was born of 
 the flesh of the Virgin had not always existed : 
 but God who always was, came in the flesh of 
 man of the flesh of the Virgin. For "the 
 Word was made flesh," and did not manifest 
 flesh together with Himself : but in the glory 
 of Divinity joined Himself to human flesh. 
 For tell me when or where the W T ord was made 
 flesh, or where Pie emptied Himself by taking 
 the form of a servant: or where He became 
 poor, though He was rich ? Where but in the 
 holy womb of the Virgin, where at His Incar- 
 nation, the Word of God is said to have been 
 made flesh, at His birth He truly took the 
 form of a servant ; and when He is in human 
 nature nailed to the Cross, He became poor, 
 and was made poor in His sufferings in the 
 flesh, though He was rich in His Divine glory ? 
 Otherwise if, as you say, at some later period 
 the Deity entered into Him as into one of the 
 Prophets and saints, then " the Word was made 
 flesh" in those men also in whom He vouch- 
 safed to dwell : then in each one of them He 
 emptied Himself and took upon Him the form 
 of a servant. And thus there is nothing new 
 or unique in Christ. Neither His conception, 
 nor His birth nor His death had anything 
 special or miraculous about it. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 The authority of Holy Scripture teaches that Christ existed 
 from all eternity. 
 
 And yet to return to what we said before, 
 though all these things are so, as we have 
 stated : how do we read that Jesus Christ 
 (whom you assert to be a mere man) was ever 
 existing even before His birth of a Virgin, and 
 how is He proclaimed by prophets and apos- 
 tles as God even before the worlds ? As Paul 
 says : " One Lord Jesus, through whom are 
 all things." 7 And elsewhere he says : " For 
 in Christ were created all things in heaven and 
 on earth, both visible and invisible." 8 The 
 
 6 Hominem. 
 
 7 1 Cor. viii. 6. 
 
 8 Col. i. 16. 
 
602 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 Creed too, which is framed both by human and 
 Divine authority, says : " I believe in God the 
 Father, and in the Lord Jesus Christ, His Son." 
 And after other clauses : " Very God of Very 
 God ; by whom both the worlds were framed 
 and all things were made." And further: 
 " Who for us came and was born of the Virgin 
 Mary, and was crucified, and was buried." 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 The hypostatic union enables us to ascribe to God what 
 belongs to the flesh in Christ. 
 
 How then is Christ (whom you term a mere 
 man) proclaimed in Holy Scripture to be God 
 without beginning, if by our own confession 
 the Lord's manhood 1 did not exist before His 
 birth and conception of a Virgin ? And how 
 can we read of so close a union of man and 
 God, as to make it appear that man was ever 
 co-eternal with God, and that afterwards God 
 suffered with man : whereas we cannot believe 
 that man can be without beginning or that 
 God can suffer ? It is this which we estab- 
 lished in our previous writings ; viz., that God 
 being joined to manhood,' 2 i.e., to His own 
 body, does not allow any separation to be 
 made in men's thoughts between man and 
 God. Nor will He permit anyone to hold 
 that there is one Person of the Son of man, 
 and another Person of the Son of God. But 
 in all the holy Scriptures He joins together 
 and as it were incorporates in the Godhead, 
 the Lord's manhood, 3 so that no one can sever 
 man from God in time, nor God from man at 
 His Passion. For if you regard Him in time, 
 you will find that the Son of man is ever with 
 the Son of God. If you take note of His Pas- 
 sion, you will find that the Son of God is ever 
 with the Son of man, and that Christ the Son 
 of man and the Son of God is so one and in- 
 divisible, that, in the language of holy Scrip- 
 ture, the man cannot be severed in time from 
 God, nor God from man at His Passion. 
 Hence comes this : " No man hath ascended 
 into heaven, but He who came down from 
 heaven, even the Son of man who is in hea- 
 ven." 4 Where the Son of God while He was 
 speaking on earth testified that the Son of 
 man was in heaven : and testified that the 
 same Son of man, who, He said, would ascend 
 into heaven, had previously come down from 
 heaven. And this : " What and if ye shall see 
 the Son of man ascend up where He was be- 
 fore," 5 where He gives the name of Him who 
 
 1 Dominions homo, see above on V. v. 
 
 2 Ifomiui. 4 S. John iii. 13. 
 
 3 Dominions homo. c S. John vi. 63. 
 
 was born of man, but affirms that He ever was 
 up on high. And the Apostle also, when con- 
 sidering what happened in time, says that all 
 things were made by Christ. For he says, 
 " There is one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are 
 all things." 6 But when speaking of His Pas- 
 sion, he shows that the Lord of glory was cru- 
 cified. " For if," he says, " they had known, 
 they would never have crucified the Lord of 
 glory." 7 And so too the Creed speaking of 
 the only and first-begotten Lord Jesus Christ, 
 " Very God of Very God, Being of one sub- 
 stance with the Father, and the Maker of all 
 things," affirms that He was born of the Vir- 
 gin and crucified and afterwards buried. Thus 
 joining in one body (as it were) the Son of 
 God and of man, and uniting God and man, so 
 that there can be no severance either in time 
 or at the Passion, since the Lord Jesus Christ 
 is shown to be one and the same Person, both 
 as God through all eternity, and as man through 
 the endurance of His Passion ; and though we 
 cannot say that man is without beginning or 
 that God is passible, yet in the one Person of 
 the Lord Jesus Christ we can speak of man as 
 eternal, and of God as dead. You see then 
 that Christ means the whole Person, and that 
 the name represents both natures, for both man 
 and God are born, and so it takes in the whole 
 Person so that when this name is used we see 
 that no part is left out. There was not then 
 before the birth of a Virgin the same eternity 
 belonging in the past to the manhood as to the 
 Divinity, but because Divinity was united to 
 manhood in the womb of the Virgin, it follows 
 that when we use the name of Christ one can- 
 not be spoken of without the other. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 That the figure Synecdoche, in which the part stands for the 
 whole, is very familiar to the Holy Scripture. 
 
 Whatever then you say of the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, you say of the whole person, and in 
 mentioning the Son of God you mention the 
 Son of man, and in mentioning the Son of man 
 you mention the Son of God : by the gram- 
 matical trope synecdoche in which you under- 
 stand the whole from the parts, and a part is 
 put for the whole : and the holy Scriptures 
 certainly show this, as in them the Lord often 
 uses this trope, and teaches in this way about 
 others and would have us understand about 
 Himself in the same way. For sometimes 
 days, and things, and men, and times are de- 
 
 6 1 Cor. viii. 6. 
 
 7 1 Cor. ii. S. See the note on IV. vii. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 603 
 
 noted in holy Scripture in no other fashion. 
 As in this case where God declares that Israel 
 shall serve the Egyptians for four hundred 
 years, and says to Abraham : " Know thou 
 that thy seed shall be a stranger in a land not 
 theirs, and they shall bring them under bond- 
 age and afflict them four hundred years." J 
 Whereas if you take into account the whole 
 time after that God spoke, they are more than 
 four hundred : but if you only reckon the time 
 in which they were in slavery, they are less. 
 And in giving this period indeed, unless you 
 understand it in this way, we must think that 
 the Word of God lied (and away with such a 
 thought from Christian minds !). But since 
 from the time of the Divine utterance, the 
 whole period of their lives amounted to more 
 than four hundred years, and their bondage 
 endured for not nearly four hundred, you must 
 understand that the part is to be taken for the 
 whole, or the whole for the part. There is also 
 a similar way of representing days and nights, 
 where, when in the case of either division of 
 time one day is meant, either period is shown 
 by a portion of a single period. And indeed 
 in this way the difficulty about the time of our 
 Lord's Passion is cleared up : for whereas the 
 Lord prophesied that after the model of the 
 prophet Jonah, the Son of man would be three 
 days and three nights in the heart of the 
 earth, 2 and whereas after the sixth day of the 
 week on which He was crucified, He was only 
 in hell 3 for one day and two nights, how 
 can we show the truth of the Divine words ? 
 Surely by the trope of Synecdoche, i.e., be- 
 cause to the day on which He was crucified 
 the previous night belongs, and to the night on 
 which He rose again, the coming day ; and so 
 when there is added the night which preceded 
 the day belonging to it, and the day which 
 followed the night belonging to it, we see that 
 
 there is nothing lacking to the whole period of 
 time, which is made up of its portions. The 
 holy Scriptures abound in such instances of 
 ways of speaking : but it would take too long 
 to relate them all. For so when the Psalm 
 says, " What is a man that Thou art mindful 
 of Him," 4 from the part we understand the 
 whole, as while only one man is mentioned 
 the whole human race is meant. So also where 
 Ahab sinned we are told that the people sinned. 
 Where — though all are mentioned, a part is 
 to be understood from the whole. John also 
 the Lord's forerunner says: "After me cometh 
 a man who is preferred before me for He was 
 before me." 5 How then does He mean that 
 He would come after Him, whom He shows to 
 be before Him ? For if this is understood of 
 a man who was afterwards born, how was he 
 before him ? But if it is taken of the Word 
 how is it, " a man cometh after me ? " Except 
 that in the one Lord Jesus Christ is shown 
 both the posteriority of the manhood and the 
 precedence of the Godhead. And so the 
 result is that one and the same Lord was 
 before him and came after him : for according 
 to the flesh He was posterior in time to John ; 
 and according to His Deity was before all 
 men. And so he, when he named that man, 
 denoted both the manhood and the Word, for 
 as the Lord Jesus Christ the Son of God was 
 complete in both manhood and Divinity 6 in 
 mentioning one of these natures in Him he 
 denoted the whole person. And what need is 
 there of anything further ? I think that the 
 day would fail me if I were to try to collect or 
 to tell everything that could be said on this 
 subject. And what we have already said is 
 enough, at any rate on this part of the subject, 
 both for the exposition of the Creed, and for 
 the requirements of our case, and for the limits 
 of our book. 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 As he is going to reply to the slanders of his opponents he 
 implores the aid of Divine grace to teach a prayer to be 
 used by those who undertake to dispute with heretics. 
 
 As it happens to those who having escaped | 
 the perils of the sea, are in terror of the sands 
 that stretch before the harbour, or the rocks 
 that line the shore, so it is in my case that, — 
 as I have kept to the last some of the slanders 
 
 1 Gen. xv. 13. 
 
 2 S. Matt. xii. 40. 
 
 3 A pud inferos. 
 
 of the heretics, — although I have reached the 
 limit of the work which I set myself, yet I 
 am beginning to dread the close, which I had 
 longed to reach. But, as the Prophet says, 
 " The Lord is my helper ; I will not fear what 
 man can do to me," 7 so we will not fear the 
 pitfalls which crafty heretics have dug in front 
 of us, nor the paths thickly strewn with horrid 
 thorns. For as they make our road difficult 
 but do not close it, there is before us the 
 
 4 Ps. viii. 5. 
 S. John i. 15. 
 
 6 Verbi. 
 
 7 Ps. cxvii. (cxviii.) 6. 
 
604 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 trouble of clearing them away, rather than the 
 fear of not being able to do so. For when, 
 as we are walking feebly along the right 
 road, they come in our way, and frighten the 
 walkers rather than hurt them, our work and 
 business has more to do in clearing them 
 away, than to fear from the difficulty of this : 
 And so, laying our hands upon that mon- 
 strous head of the deadly serpent, and long- 
 ing to lay hold of all the limbs that are 
 entangled in the huge folds and coils of his 
 body, again and again do we pray to Thee, 
 O Lord Jesus, to whom we have ever prayed, 
 that Thou wouldst give us words by opening 
 our mouth " to the pulling down of strong- 
 holds, destroying counsels, and every height 
 that exalteth itself against the knowledge of 
 God, and bringing into captivity every under- 
 standing unto Thine obedience : " 1 for he is 
 indeed free, who has begun to be led captive 
 by Thee. Do Thou then be present to this 
 work of thine, and to those of Thine who are 
 striving for Thee above the measure of their 
 strength. Grant us to bruise the gaping 
 mouths of this new serpent, and its neck that 
 swells with deadly poison, O Thou who mak- 
 est the feet of believers to tread unharmed on 
 serpents and scorpions, and to go upon the 
 adder and basilisk, to tread under foot the 
 lion and the dragon." 2 And grant that through 
 the fearless boldness of steadfast innocence, 
 the sucking child may play on the hole of the 
 asp, and the weaned child thrust his hand into 
 the den of the basilisk. 3 Grant then to us also 
 that we may thrust our hands unharmed into 
 the den of this monstrous and most wicked 
 basilisk ; and if it has in any holes, i.e., in 
 the human heart, a lurking or resting place, 
 or has laid its eggs there, or left a trace of its 
 slimy course, do Thou remove from them all 
 the foul and deadly pollution of this most nox- 
 ious serpent. Take away the uncleanness their 
 blasphemy has brought on them, and purify 
 with the fan of Thy sacred cleansing 4 the 
 souls that are plunged in stinking mud, so that 
 the " dens of thieves " may become " houses 
 of prayer : " 5 and that in those which are now, 
 as is written, the dwellings where hedgehogs and 
 monsters, 6 and satyrs, and all kinds of strange 
 creatures dwell, there the gifts of Thy Holy 
 Spirit, namely the beauty of faith and holiness 
 may shine forth. And as once Thou didst 
 destroy idolatry and cast out images, and make 
 shrines of virtue out of the temples of devils, 
 and let into the dens of serpents and scorpions 
 the rays of shining light, and make out of the 
 dens of error and shame the homes of beauty 
 
 1 2 Cor. x. 4, 5. 2 Cf. S.Lukex. 19; Ps. xc. (xci.) 13. 
 
 3 Isn. xi. S. * Cf. Mai. in. 2, 3. 6 S. Matt. xxi. 13. 
 
 Onocentauri : the allusion is to Is. xxxiv. 14, 15. Cf. Jerome in 
 Esaiam, Bk. X. 
 
 and splendour, so do Thou pour upon all whose 
 eyes the darkness of heretical obstinacy has 
 blinded, the light of Thy compassion and 
 truth, that they may at length with clear and 
 unveiled sight behold the great and life-giving 
 mystery of Thine Incarnation, and so come to 
 know Thee to have been born as Very man of 
 that sacred womb of a pure Virgin, and yet 
 to acknowledge that Thou wast always Very 
 God. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 He meets the objection taken from these words : No one gave 
 birth to one who had existed before her. 
 
 And before I begin to speak of those things 
 of which I have given no foretaste in the ear- 
 lier books, I think it right to try to carry out 
 what I have already promised, that when I 
 have thoroughly redeemed my pledge, I may 
 begin to speak more freely of what has not 
 been touched upon, after having satisfied my 
 promise. So then that new serpent, in order 
 to destroy the faith of the holy nativity, hisses 
 out against the Church of God and says : " No 
 one ever gives birth to one older than her- 
 self." To begin with then I think that you 
 know neither what you say nor where you get 
 it from. For if you knew or understood where 
 you got it from, you would never regard the 
 nativity of the only begotten of God in the 
 light of human fancies, nor would you try to 
 settle by merely human propositions, about 
 Him who was born without His conception 
 originating from man : nor would you bring 
 human impossibilities as cbjections against 
 Divine Omnipotence if you knew that with 
 God nothing was impossible. No one then, 
 you say, gives birth to one older than herself. 
 Tell me then, I pray, of what cases are you 
 speaking, for the nature of what creatures do 
 you think that you can lay down rules ? Do 
 you suppose that you can fix laws for men or 
 beasts or birds or cattle ? Those (and others 
 of the same kind) are the things of which such 
 assertions can be made. For none of them 
 is able to produce one older than itself ; for 
 what has already been produced cannot return 
 to it again so as to be born again by a new 
 creation. And so no one can bear one older 
 than herself, as no one can beget one older 
 than himself : for the opportunity of bearing- 
 only results where there is the possibility of 
 begetting. Do you then imagine that in refer- 
 ence to the nativity of Almighty God regard 
 must be had to the same considerations as in 
 the birth of earthly creatures ? And do you 
 bring the nature of man's conditions as a diffi- 
 culty in the case of Him who is Himself the 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 605 
 
 author of nature ? You see then that, as I 
 said above, you know not whence or of whom 
 you are talking, as you are comparing creatures 
 to the Creator ; and in order to calculate the 
 power of God are drawing an instance from 
 those things which would never have existed 
 at all, but that the very fact of their existence 
 comes from God. God then came as He 
 would, when He would, and of her whom He 
 would. Neither time nor person, nor the 
 manner of men, nor the custom of creatures 
 was any difficulty with Him ; for the law of 
 the creatures could not stand in the way of 
 Him who is Himself the Creator of them all. 
 And whatever He would have possible was 
 ready to His hand, for the power of willing it 
 was His. Do you want to know how far the 
 omnipotence of God extends, and how great 
 it is ? I believe that the Lord could do that 
 even in the case of His creatures which you 
 do not believe that He could do in His own 
 case. For all living creatures which now bear 
 things younger than themselves could, if only 
 God gave the word, bear things much older 
 than themselves. For even food and drink, if 
 it were God's will, could be turned into the 
 foetus and offspring : and even water, which 
 has been flowing from the beginning of things, 
 and which all living creatures use, could, if 
 God gave the word, be made a body in the 
 womb, and have birth given to it. For who 
 can set a limit to divine works, or circumscribe 
 Divine Providence ? or who (to use the words 
 of Scripture) can say to Him " What doest 
 thou ? " * If you deny that God can do all 
 things, then deny, that, when God was born, 
 one older than Mary could be born of her. 
 But if -'there is nothing impossible with God, 
 why do you bring as an objection against His 
 coming an impossibility, when you know that 
 for Him nothing is impossible in anything? 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 He replies to the cavil that the one who is born must be of one 
 substance with the one who bears. 
 
 The second blasphemous slander or slan- 
 derous blasphemy of your heresy is when you 
 say that the one who is born must be of one 
 substance with the one who bears. It is not 
 very different from the previous one, for it 
 differs from it in terms rather than in fact and 
 reality. For when we are treating of the birth 
 of God, you maintain that one of greater power 
 could not be born of Mary just as above you 
 maintain than one older could not be begotten. 
 And so you may take it that the same answer 
 
 1 Isa. xlv. 9; Rom. ix. 20. 
 
 may be given to this as to what you said be- 
 fore : or you may conceive that the answer 
 given to this assertion, which you are now 
 making, applies to that also. You say then 
 that the one who is born must be of one sub- 
 stance with the one who bears. If this refers 
 to earthly creatures, it is most certainly the 
 case. But if it refers to the birth of God, why 
 in the case of His birth do you regard prece- 
 dents from nature ? for appointments are sub- 
 ject to Him who appointed them, and not the 
 appointer to His appointments. But would 
 you like to know more fully how these slanders 
 of yours are not only wicked but foolish, and 
 the idle talk of one who does not in the least 
 see the omnipotence of God ? Tell me, I pray, 
 you who think that like things can only be 
 produced from like things, whence was the ori- 
 gin of that unaccountable host of quails in the 
 wilderness of old time to feed the children of 
 Israel, for nowhere do we read that they had 
 been previously born of mother birds, but that 
 they were brought up and came suddenly. 
 Again whence came that heavenly food which 
 for forty years fell on the camp of the Hebrews ? 
 Did manna produce manna ? But these refer 
 to ancient miracles. And what of more recent 
 ones ? With a few loaves and small fishes the 
 Lord Jesus Christ fed countless hosts of the 
 people that followed Him, and not once only. 
 The reason that they were satisfied lay not in 
 the food : for a secret and unseen cause satis- 
 fied the hungry folk, especially as there was 
 much more left when they were filled than 
 there had been set before them when they 
 were hungry. Arid how was all this brought 
 about that when those who ate were satisfied, 
 the food itself was multiplied by an extraordi- 
 nary increase ? We read that in Galilee wine 
 was produced from water. Tell me how what 
 was of one nature produced something of an 
 altogether different substance from its own 
 quality ? Especially when (which exactly ap- 
 plies to the birth of the Lord) it was the pro- 
 duction of a nobler substance from what was 
 inferior to it ? Tell me then how from mere 
 water there could be produced rich and splen- 
 did wine ? How was it that one thing was 
 drawn out, another poured in ? Was the cis- 
 tern a well of such a nature as to change the 
 water drawn from it into the best wine ? Or 
 did the character of the vessels or the dili- 
 gence of the servants effect this ? Most cer- 
 tainly neither of these. And how is it that 
 the 7tianner of the fact is not understood by the 
 thoughts of the heart, though the truth of the 
 fact is firmly held by the conscience ? In 
 the gospel clay was placed on the eyes of a 
 blind man and when it was washed off 2 eyes 
 
 2 A bluto eo (Petschenig) : Ab luto eo (Gazaeus). 
 
6o6 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 were produced. Had water the power of giv- 
 ing birth to eyes, or clay of creating light ? 
 Certainly not, especially as water could be of 
 no use to a blind man, and clay would actually 
 hinder the sight of those who could see. And 
 how was it that a thing that itself in its own na- 
 ture was injurious, became the means of restor- 
 ing health ; and that what was ordinarily hurtful 
 to sound people, was then made the instrument 
 of healing ? You say that the power of God 
 brought it about, and the remedy of God 
 caused it, and that all these things of which 
 we have been speaking were simply brought 
 about by Divine Omnipotence ; which is able 
 to fashion new things from unwonted material, 
 and to make serviceable things out of their op- 
 posites, and to change what belongs to the 
 realm of things impossible and impracticable 
 into possibilities and actual performances. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 How God has shown His Omnipotence in His birth in time 
 as well as in everything else. 
 
 Confess then the same truth in respect of 
 the actual nativity of the Lord, as in respect 
 of everything else. Believe that God was born 
 when He would, for you do not deny that He 
 could do what He would ; unless possibly you 
 think that that power which belonged to Him 
 for all other things was deficient as regards 
 Himself, and that His Omnipotence though 
 proceeding from Him and penetrating all 
 tilings, was insufficient to bring about His own 
 nativity. In the case of the Lord's nativity 
 you bring this as an objection against me : 
 No one gives birth to one who is anterior in 
 time : and in regard of the birth which Al- 
 mighty God underwent you say that the one 
 who is born ought to be of one substance with 
 the one who bears ; as if you had to do with 
 human laws as in the case of any ordinary 
 man, to whom you might bring the impos- 
 sibility as an objection, as you include him in 
 the weakness of earthly things. You say that 
 for all men there are common conditions of 
 birth, and but one law of generation ; and that 
 a thing could not possibly happen to one man 
 only out of the whole of humanity, which God 
 has forbidden to happen to all. You do not 
 understand of whom you are speaking; nor 
 do you see of whom you are talking ; for He 
 is the Author of all conditions, and the very 
 Law of all natures, through whom exists what- 
 ever man can do, and whatever man cannot 
 do : for He certainly has laid down the limits 
 of both ; viz., how far his powers should ex- 
 tend, and the bounds beyond which his weak- 
 
 ness should not advance. How wildly then 
 do you bring human impossibilities as an ob- 
 jection in the case of Him, who possesses all 
 powers and possibilities. If you estimate the 
 Person of the Lord by earthly weaknesses, 
 and measure God's Omnipotence by human 
 rules, you will most certainly fail to find any- 
 thing which seems appropriate to God as con- 
 cerns the sufferings of His Body. For if it 
 can seem to you unreasonable that Mary could 
 give birth to God who was anterior to her, 
 how will it seem reasonable that God was cru- 
 cified by men ? And yet the same God who 
 was crucified Himself predicted : " Shall a 
 man afflict God, for you afflict Me?" 1 If 
 then we cannot think that the Lord was born 
 of a Virgin because Pie who was born was 
 anterior to her who bore Plim, how can we 
 believe that God had blood ? And yet it was 
 said to the Ephesian elders : " Feed the Church 
 of God which He has purchased with His own 
 Blood." 2 Finally how can we think that the 
 Author of life was Himself deprived of life : 
 And yet Peter says : " Ye have killed the 
 Author of life." 8 No one who is set on earth 
 can be in heaven : and how does the Lord 
 Himself say : " The Son of man who is in 
 heaven " ? 4 If then you think that God was 
 not born of a Virgin because the one who is 
 born must be of one substance with the one 
 who bears, how will you believe that different 
 things can be produced from different natures ? 
 Thus according to you the wind did not sud- 
 denly bring the quails, nor did the manna fall, 
 nor was water turned into wine, nor were many 
 thousands of men fed with a few loaves, nor 
 did the blind man receive his sight after the 
 clay had been put on him. But if all these 
 things seem incredible and contrary to nature, 
 unless we believe that they were wrought by 
 God, why should you deny in the matter of 
 His nativity, what you admit in the matter 
 of His works ? Or was He unable to con- 
 tribute to His own nativity and advent what 
 He did not refuse for the succour and profit 
 of men ? 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 He shows by proofs drawn from nature itself, that the law 
 which his opponents lay down; viz., that the one born 
 ought to be of one substance with the one who bears, fails 
 to hold good in many cases. 
 
 It would be tedious and almost childish to 
 speak further on this subject. But still in order 
 to refute that folly and madness of yours, in 
 which you maintain that the one born ought 
 to be of one substance with the one who 
 
 1 Mai. iii. 8. - Acts xx. 28. s Acts iii. 15. 4 S. John iii. 13. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 607 
 
 bears, i.e., that nothing can produce some- 
 thing of a different nature to itself, I will bring 
 forward some instances of earthly things, to 
 convince you that many creatures are pro- 
 duced from things of a different nature. Not 
 that it is possible or right to make any com- 
 parison in such a case as this : but that you 
 may not doubt the possibility of that happen- 
 ing in the case of the holy Nativity, which as 
 you see takes place in these frail earthly things. 
 Bees, tiniest of creatures though they are, are 
 yet so clever and cunning that we read that 
 they can be produced and spring from things 
 of an entirely different nature. For as they 
 are creatures of marvellous intelligence, and 
 well endowed not merely with sense but with 
 foresight, they are produced from the gathered 
 flowers of plants. What greater instance do 
 you think can be produced and quoted ? Liv- 
 ing creatures are produced from inanimate : 
 sensate from insensate. 1 What artificer, what 
 architect was there ? Who formed their bodies ? 
 Who breathed in their souls ? Who gave them 
 articulate sounds by which to converse with 
 each other ? Who fashioned and arranged 
 these harmonies of their feet, the cunning of 
 their mouths, the neatness of their wings ? 
 Their powers, wrath, foresight, movements, 
 calmness, harmony, differences, wars, peace, 
 arrangements, contrivances, business, govern- 
 ment, all those things indeed which they have 
 in common with men — from whose teaching, 
 or whose gift did they receive them ? from 
 whose implanting or instruction ? Did they 
 gain this through generation ? or learn it in 
 their mother's womb or from her flesh ? They 
 never were in the womb, and had no experi- 
 ence of generation. It was only that flowers 
 which they culled were brought into the hive ; 
 and from this by a marvellous contrivance 
 bees issued forth." Then the womb of the 
 mother imparted nothing to the offspring : nor 
 are bees produced from bees. They are but 
 their artificers, not their authors. From the 
 blossoms of plants living creatures proceed. 
 What is there akin in plants and animals ? I 
 fancy then that you see who is the contriver 
 of those things. Go now and inquire whether 
 the Lord could bring about that in the case of 
 His own nativity, which you see that He pro- 
 cured in the case of these tiniest of crea- 
 tures. Perhaps it is needless after this to add 
 anything further. But still let us add in sup- 
 port of the argument what may not be neces- 
 sary to prove the point. We see how the air 
 
 1 Ex inanimis animalia, ex insensibilibus sensibilia nascuntur 
 (Petschenig). The text of Gazaeus has ex atumis animalia nas- 
 cuntur. 
 
 2 Cf. Virgil's Georgics IV. Rufinus, on the Apostle's Creed 
 (c. xi.) gives the same illustration of the Incarnation, and cf. with 
 the passage in the text S. Basil Horn, in Hexaem, IX. ii. 
 
 is suddenly darkened, and the earth filled with 
 locusts. Show me their seed — their birth — 
 their mothers. For, as you see, they proceed 
 thence, whence they have their birth. Assert 
 in all these cases that the one who is born 
 must be of one substance with the one who 
 bears. And in these assertions you will be 
 shown to be as silly, as you are wild in your 
 denial of the Nativity of the Lord. And what 
 next ? Do even you think that we must go on 
 any further ? But still we will add something 
 else. There is no doubt that basilisks are 
 produced from the eggs of the birds which in 
 Egypt they call the Ibis. What is there of 
 kindred or relationship between a bird and a 
 serpent ? Why is the thing born not of one 
 substance with that which bears it ? And yet 
 those who bear are not the authors of all these 
 things, nor do those who are born understand 
 them : but they result from secret causes, and 
 from some inexplicable and manifold law of 
 nature which produces them. And you are 
 bringing as objections to His Nativity your 
 petty assertions from earthly notions, while 
 you cannot explain the origin of those things, 
 which are produced by His bidding and com- 
 mand, whose will does everything, whose sway 
 causes everything : whom nothing can oppose 
 or resist ; and whose will is sufficient for every- 
 thing which can possibly be done. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 He refutes another argument of Nestorius, in which he tried 
 to make out that Christ was like Adam in every point. 
 
 But since we cannot (as we should much 
 prefer) ignore them, it is now time to expose 
 the rest of your more subtle and insidious 
 blasphemies that at least they may not deceive 
 ignorant folk. In one of your pestilent trea- 
 tises you have maintained and said that 
 " Since man is the image of the Divine na- 
 ture, and the devil dragged this down and 
 shattered it, God grieved over His image, as 
 an Emperor over his statue, and repairs the 
 shattered image : and formed without genera- 
 tion a nature from the Virgin, like that of 
 Adam who was born without generation ; and 
 raises up man's nature by means of man : for 
 as by man came death, so also by man came 
 the resurrection of the dead." They tell us 
 that some poisoners have a custom of mixing 
 honey with the poison in the cups which they 
 prepare ; that the injurious ingredient may be 
 concealed by the sweet : and while a man is 
 charmed with the sweetness of the honey, he 
 may be destroyed by the deadly poison. So 
 then, when you say that man is the image of 
 the Divine nature, and that the devil dragged 
 
6o8 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 this down and shattered it, and that God 
 grieved over His image as an Emperor over 
 his statue, you smear (so to speak) the lips of 
 the cup with something sweet like honey, that 
 men may drain the cup offered to them, and 
 not perceive its deadliness, while they taste 
 what is alluring. You put forward God's 
 name, in order to speak falsehoods in the 
 name of religion. You set holy things in 
 the front, in order to persuade men of what is 
 untrue : and by means of your confession of 
 God you contrive to deny Him whom you are 
 confessing. For who is there who does not 
 see whither you are going ? What you are con- 
 triving ? You say indeed that God grieved 
 over His image as an Emperor over his statue, 
 and repaired the shattered image, and formed 
 without generation a nature from the Virgin, 
 like that of Adam who was born without gen- 
 eration, and raises up man's nature by man, 
 for as by man came death, so also by man 
 came the resurrection of the dead. So then 
 with all your earnestness, with all your profes- 
 sions, you crafty plotter, you have managed by 
 your smooth assertions, by naming God in the 
 forefront, to come down to a (mere) man in 
 the conclusion : and in the end you degrade 
 Him to the condition of a mere man, from 
 whom under colour of humility you have al- 
 ready taken away the glory of God. You say 
 then that the Divine goodness has restored 
 the image of God which the devil shattered 
 and destroyed, for you say that He restores 
 the shattered image. Now with what craft 
 you say that He restores the shattered image : 
 in order to persuade us that there was no- 
 thing more in Him, in whom the image is re- 
 stored, than there was in the actual image, of 
 which the restoration was brought about. And 
 thus you make out that the Lord is only the 
 same as Adam was : that the restorer of the 
 image is nothing more than the actual destruc- 
 tible image. Finally in what follows you show 
 what you are aiming and driving at, when you 
 say that He formed without generation a na- 
 ture from the Virgin like that of Adam, who 
 was born without generation, and raises up 
 man's nature by man. You maintain that the 
 Lord Jesus Christ was in all respects like 
 Adam : that the one was without generation, 
 and the other without generation : the one a 
 mere man, and the other a mere man. And 
 thus you see that you have carefully guarded 
 and provided against our thinking of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ as in any way greater or better 
 than Adam : since you have compared them 
 together by the same standard, so that you 
 would think that you . detracted something 
 from Adam's perfection, if you added any- 
 thing more to Christ. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Heretics usually cover their doctrines with a cloak of holy- 
 Scripture. 
 
 " For as," you say, " by man came death, 
 so by man came also the resurrection of the 
 dead." Do you actually try to prove your 
 wrong and impious notion by the witness cf 
 the Apostle ? And do you bring the " chosen 
 vessel " into disgrace by mixing him up with 
 your wicked ideas ? I mean, that, as you can- 
 not understand the author of your Salvation, 
 therefore the Apostle must be made out to 
 have denied God. And yet, if you wanted 
 to make use of Apostolic witnesses, why did 
 you rest contented with one, and pass over all 
 the others in silence ? and why did you not at 
 once add this : " Paul, an Apostle not of men 
 neither by man, but by Jesus Christ : " * or 
 this : " We speak wisdom among the per- 
 fect : " and presently : " Whom none," says 
 he, " of the princes of this world knew ; for 
 had they known, they would not have crucified 
 the Lord of glory." ' 2 Or this : " For in Him 
 dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bod- 
 ily." 3 And: "One Lord Jesus Christ through 
 whom are all things." 4 Or do you partly 
 agree, and partly disagree with the Apostle, 
 and only receive him so far as in consequence 
 of the Incarnation 5 he names Christ man, 
 and repudiate him where he speaks of Him 
 as God ? For Paul does not deny that Jesus 
 is man, but still he confesses that that man 
 is God : and declares that to mankind the 
 resurrection came by man in such a way that 
 he shows that in that man God arose. For 
 see whether he declares that He who rose was 
 God, as he bears his witness that He who was 
 crucified was the Lord of glory. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The heretics attribute to Christ only the shadow of Divinity, 
 and so assert that he is to be worshipped together with 
 God but not as God. 
 
 But still in order to avoid thinking of the 
 Lord Jesus as one of the whole mass of peo- 
 ple, you have given to Him some- glory, by 
 attributing to Him honour as a saint, but not 
 Deity as true man and true God. For what 
 do you say ? " God brought about the Lord's 
 Incarnation. Let us honour the form of the 
 Theodochos 6 together with God, as one form 
 of Godhead, as a figure that cannot be severed 
 from the Divine link, as an image of the un- 
 
 i Gal. i. i. 
 
 2 i Cor. ii. 6, 8. 
 
 3 Col. ii. q. 
 
 4 i Cor. viii. 6. 
 
 5 Disfiensatio. 
 « Cf. V. ii. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 609 
 
 seen God." Above you said that Adam was 
 the image of God, here you call Christ the 
 image : the one you speak of as a statue, and 
 the other also as a statue. But I suppose we 
 ought for God's honour to be grateful to you, 
 because you grant that the form of the Theo- 
 dochos should be worshipped together with 
 God : in which you wrong Him rather than 
 honour Him. For in this you do not attribute 
 to the Lord Jesus Christ the glory of Deity, 
 but you deny it. By a subtle and wicked art 
 you say that He is to be worshipped together 
 with God in order that you may not have to 
 confess that He is God, and by the very state- 
 ment in which you seem deceitfully to join 
 Him with God, you really sever Him from 
 God. For when you blasphemously say that 
 He is certainly not to be adored as God, but 
 to be worshipped together with God, you thus 
 grant to Him an union of nearness to Divin- 
 ity, in order to get rid of the truth of His 
 Divinity. Oh, you most wicked and crafty 
 enemy of God, you want to perpetrate the 
 crime of denying God under pretext of con- 
 fessing Him. You say : Let us worship Him 
 as a figure that cannot be severed from the 
 Divine will, as an image of the unseen God. 
 It is I suppose, then, owing to His kind acts 
 that our Lord Jesus Christ has obtained 
 among us honour as Creator and Redeemer. 
 If then we were redeemed by Him from eter- 
 nal destruction, in calling our Redeemer a 
 figure we are endeavouring indeed to respond 
 to His kindness and goodness, by a worthy 
 service and a worthy allegiance, if we try to 
 get rid of that glory which He did not refuse 
 to bring low for our sakes. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 How those are wrong who say that the birth of Christ was 
 a secret, since it was clearly shown even to the patriarch 
 Jacob. 
 
 But I suppose you excuse the degradation 
 offered to the Lord by means of a subordinate 
 honour, by the words " as the image of the 
 secret God." By the fact that you term Him 
 an image you compare Him to man's estate. 
 In speaking of Him as the image of the secret 
 God, you detract from the honour plainly due to 
 Him. For " God," says David, " shall plainly 
 come ; our God, and shall not keep silence." 1 
 And He surely came and did not keep silence, 
 who before that He in His own person uttered 
 anything after His birth, made known His ad- 
 vent by both earthly and heavenly witnesses 
 alike, while the star points Him out, the magi 
 
 1 Ps. xlix. ( 1.) 3. 
 
 adore Him, and angels declare Him. What 
 more do you want? His voice was yet silent 
 on earth, and His glory was already crying 
 aloud in heaven. Do you say then that God 
 was and is secret in Him ? But this was not 
 the announcement of the Prophets, of the 
 Patriarchs, aye and of the whole Law. For 
 they did not say that He would be secret, 
 whose coming they all foretold. You err in 
 your wretched blindness, seeking grounds for 
 blasphemy and not finding them. You say 
 that He was secret even after His advent. I 
 maintain that He was not secret even before 
 His advent. For did the mystery of God to 
 be born of a Virgin escape the knowledge 
 of that celebrated Patriarch on whom the 
 vision of God present with him conferred a 
 title, whereby from the name of Supplanter he 
 rose to the name of Israel ? Who, when from 
 the struggle with the man who wrestled with 
 him he understood the mystery of the Incar- 
 nation yet to come, said, " I have seen God 
 face to face, and my life is preserved." 2 What, 
 I pray you, had he seen, for him to believe 
 that he had seen God? Did God manifest 
 Himself to him in the midst of thunder and 
 lightning ? or when the heavens were opened, 
 did the dazzling face of the Deity show itself 
 to him ? Most certainly not : but rather on 
 the contrary he saw a man and acknowledged 
 a God. O truly worthy of the name he re- 
 ceived, as with the eyes of the soul rather than 
 of the body he earned the honour of a title 
 given by God ! He saw a human form wrest- 
 ling with him, and declared that he saw God. 
 He certainly knew that that human form was 
 indeed God : for in that form in which God 
 then appeared, in the selfsame form He was 
 in very truth afterwards to come. Although 
 why should we be surprised that so great a 
 patriarch unhesitatingly believed what God 
 Himself so plainly showed in His own Person 
 to him, when he said, " I have seen God face 
 to face and my life is preserved." How did 
 God show to him so much of the presence of 
 Deity, that he could say that the face of God 
 was shown to him ? For it seems that only a 
 man had appeared to him, whom he had actu- 
 ally beaten in the struggle. But God was cer- 
 tainly bringing this about by precursory signs, 
 that there might not be any one to disbelieve 
 
 2 Gen. xxxii. 30. 
 
 The name Israel was in the 4th and 5th centuries commonly ex- 
 plained to mean the " man seeing God " as if it came from IS^N; 
 ilfO. and 7X" S. Jerome (Qusst. in Genesim c. xxxii. ver. 27, 
 
 28) rejects this interpretation as forced, and prefers " a Prince with 
 God. Hence the rendering in the A. V. " For as a prince hast thou 
 power with God and with men and hast prevailed." This however 
 is now generally rejected, and the right interpretation of the name 
 appears to be " He who striveth with God." Cf. R. V. " For thou 
 hast striven with God and with men, and hast prevailed." Cf. the 
 Conferences, Pref. and V. xxiii. XII. xi. 
 
6io 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 that God was born of man, when already long 
 before the Patriarch had seen God in human 
 form. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 He collects more witnesses of the same fact. 
 
 But why am I lingering so long over one 
 instance, as if many were wanting ? For even 
 then how could the fact that God was to come 
 in the flesh escape the knowledge of men, 
 when the Prophet said openly as if to all man- 
 kind of Him : " Behold your God ; " and else- 
 where : " Behold our God." And this : " God 
 the mighty, the Father of the world to come, 
 the Prince of Peace ; " and : " of His kingdom 
 there shall be no end." 1 But also when He 
 had already come, could the fact of His having 
 come escape the knowledge of those who 
 openly confessed that He had come ? Was 
 Peter ignorant of the coming of God, when he 
 said, " Thou art the Christ, the Son of the 
 living God?" 2 Did not Martha know what 
 she was saying or whom she believed in, when 
 she said, " Yea, Lord, I have believed that Thou 
 art the Christ, the Son of the living God, who 
 art come into this world ? " 3 And all those 
 men, who sought from Him the cure of their 
 sicknesses, or the restoration of their limbs, or 
 the life of their dead, did they ask these things 
 from man's weakness, or from God's omnipo- 
 tence ? 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 How the devil was forced by many reasons to the view that 
 Christ was God. 
 
 Finally as for the devil himself, when he 
 was tempting Him with every show of allure- 
 ments, and every art of his wickedness, what 
 was it that in his ignorance he suspected, or 
 wanted to find out by tempting Him ? Or what 
 so greatly moved him, that he sought God 
 under the humble form of man ? Had he 
 learned that by previous proofs ? Or had he 
 known of anyone who came as God in man's 
 body ? Most certainly not. But it was by the 
 mighty evidence of signs, by mighty results of 
 actions, by the words of the Truth Himself 
 that he was driven to suspect and examine 
 into this matter :' inasmuch as he had already 
 once heard from John : " Behold the Lamb of 
 God, behold Him who taketh away the sin of 
 the world." 4 And again from the same person : 
 " I have need to be baptized of Thee, and 
 comest Thou to me ? " 5 The dove also which 
 came down from heaven and stopped over the 
 
 1 Isa. xl. 9; xxv. 9; ix. 6, 7. 
 
 2 S. Matt. xvi. 16. 
 
 3 S. John xi. 27. 
 
 4 S. John i. 29. 
 
 6 S. Matt. iii. 14. 
 
 Lord's head had made itself a clear and open 
 proof of a God who declared Himself. The 
 voice too which was sent from God not in 
 riddles or figures had moved him, when it 
 said: "Thou art My beloved Son, in Thee I am 
 well pleased." 6 And though he saw a man 
 outwardly in Jesus, yet he was searching for 
 the Son of God, when he said : " If Thou art 
 the Son of God, command that these stones be 
 made bread." 7 Did the contemplation of the 
 man drive away the devil's suspicions of His 
 Divinity, so that owing to the fact that he 
 saw a man, he did not believe that He could 
 be God ? Most certainly not. But what does 
 he say ? " If Thou art the Son of God, com- 
 mand that these stones be made bread." 
 Certainly he had no doubt about the possi- 
 bility of that, the existence of which he was 
 examining into. His anxiety was about its 
 truth. There was no security as to its im- 
 possibility. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 He compares this notion and reasonable suspicion of the devil 
 with the obstinate and inflexible idea of his opponents, and 
 shows that this last is worse and more blasphemous than 
 the former. 
 
 But he certainly knew that the Lord Jesus 
 Christ was born of Mary: he knew that He 
 was wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in 
 a manger : that PI is childhood was that of a 
 poor person at the commencement of His 
 human life ; and His infancy without the 
 proper accessories of cradles : further he did 
 not doubt that He had true flesh, and was 
 born a true man. And why did this seem to 
 him not enough for him to be secure in ? Why 
 did he believe that He could not be God, 
 whom he knew to be very man ? Learn then, 
 you wretched madman, learn, you lunatic, you 
 cruel sinner, learn, I pray, even from the devil, 
 to lessen your blasphemy. He said : " If 
 Thou art the Son of God." You say: " Thou 
 art not the Son of God." You deny what he 
 asked about. No one was ever yet found but 
 you, to outdo the devil in blasphemy. That 
 which he confessed to be possible in the case 
 of the Lord, you do not believe to have been 
 possible. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 How the devil always retained this notion of Christ's Divinity 
 (because of His secret working which he experienced) even 
 up to His Cross and Death. 
 
 But perhaps he afterwards ceased and 
 rested, and when his temptations were van- 
 
 's S. Matt. iii. 17. 
 
 7 S. Luke iv. 3. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 611 
 
 quished laid aside his suspicion because he 
 found no result ? Nay, it rather remained 
 always in him, and even up to the very cross 
 of the Lord the suspicion lasted in him and 
 was increased by peculiar terrors. What need 
 is there of anything further ? Not even then 
 did he cease to think of Him as the Son of 
 God, after that he knew that such licence was 
 granted to His persecutors against Him. But 
 the crafty foe saw even in the midst of His 
 bodily sufferings the signs of Divinity, and 
 though he would have much preferred Him to 
 be a (mere) man, was yet forced to suspect 
 that He was God : for though he would have 
 preferred to believe what he wanted, yet he 
 was driven by surest proofs to that which he 
 feared. And no wonder : for although he be- 
 held Him spitted on, and scourged, and dis- 
 graced, and led to the Cross, yet he saw Divine 
 powers abounding even in the midst of the 
 indignities and wrongs ; when the veil of 
 the temple is rent, when the sun hides itself, 
 the day is darkened, and all things feel the 
 effects of the Passion : all things even, which 
 know not God, acknowledge the work of 
 Deity. And therefore the devil seeing this, 
 and trembling, tried in every way to arrive 
 at the knowledge of His Godhead, even at 
 the very death of the manhood, saying in 
 the person of those who crucified Him : " If 
 He be the Son of God, let Him come down 
 now from the Cross, and we will believe Him." 1 
 He certainly perceived that by His bodily Pas- 
 sion our Lord God was working out the re- 
 demption of man's salvation, and also that by 
 it he was being destroyed and subdued, while 
 we were being redeemed and saved. And so 
 the enemy of mankind wanted by every means 
 and every wile to defeat that which he knew 
 was being done for the redemption of all men. 
 " If," he says, " He be the Son of God, let 
 Him come down now from the Cross and we 
 will believe Him : " on purpose that the Lord 
 might be moved by the reproach of the words, 
 and destroy the mystery, while He avenged 
 the wrong. You see then that the Lord even 
 when hanging on the Cross was termed the 
 Son of God. You see that they suspect the 
 fact to which they refer. And so do you learn, 
 as I said above, even from His persecutors, 
 even from the devil, to believe on the Son of 
 God. Who ever came up to the unbelief of 
 the devil ? Who went beyond it ? He sus- 
 pected that He was the Son of God even 
 when He endured death. You deny it even 
 when He has risen. He suspected that He 
 was God, from whom He hid Himself. Yon, 
 to whom He has proved it, deny it. 
 
 S. Matt, xxvii. 42. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 He shows how heretics pervert holy Scripture, by replying to 
 the argument drawn from the Apostle's words, " Without 
 lather, without mother," etc. : Heb. vii. 
 
 You then make use of the holy Scriptures 
 against God, and try to bring His own wit- 
 nesses against Him. But how ? Truly so as 
 to become a false accuser not only of God, but 
 of the evidences themselves. Nor indeed is 
 it wonderful that, as you cannot do what you 
 want, you only do what you can : as you can- 
 not turn the sacred witnesses against God, you 
 do what you can, and pervert them. For you 
 say: Then Paul tells a lie, when he says of 
 Christ : " Without mother, without genea- 
 logy." 2 I ask you, of whom do you think that 
 Paul said this ? Of the Son and Word of God, 
 or of the Christ, whom you separate from the 
 Son of God, and blasphemously assert to be a 
 mere man ? If of the Christ, whom you main- 
 tain to be a mere man, how could a man be 
 born without a mother and without a genea- 
 logy on the mother's side ? But if of the Word 
 of God and Son of God — what can we make of 
 it, when the same Apostle, your own witness, 
 as you impiously imagine, testifies in the same 
 place and by the same witness, that He whom 
 you assert to be without mother, was also with- 
 out father ; saying, " Without father, without 
 mother, without genealogy " ? It follows then 
 that if you use the Apostle's witness, since 
 you assert that the Son of God was " without 
 mother," you must also be guilty of the blas- 
 phemy that He was "without father." You 
 see then in what a downfall of impiety you 
 have landed yourself, in your eagerness for 
 your perversity and wickedness, so that, while 
 you say that the Son of God had not a mother, 
 you must also deny Him a Father — a thing 
 which no one yet since the world began, ex- 
 cept perhaps a madman, ever did. And this, 
 whether with greater wickedness or folly, I 
 hardly know; for what is more foolish and 
 silly than to give the name of Son and to try 
 to keep back the name of Father ? But you 
 say I don't keep it back, I don't deny it. And 
 what madness then drove you to quote that 
 passage, where, while you say that He had no 
 mother, you must seem also to deny to Him a 
 Father ? For as in the same passage He is 
 said to be without mother and also without 
 father, it follows that if it can be understood 
 that there He is without mother, in the same 
 way in which we understand that He is with- 
 out mother, we must also believe that He is 
 without father. But that hasty craze for deny- 
 
 2 Heb. vii. 3. 
 
6l2 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 ing God did not see this ; and when it quoted 
 mutilated, what was written entire, it failed to 
 see that the shameless and palpable lie could 
 be refuted by laying open the contents of the 
 sacred volume. O foolish blasphemy, and 
 madness ! which, while it failed to see what it 
 ought to follow, had not the wit to see even 
 what could be read : as if, because it could 
 get rid of its own intelligence, it could get 
 rid of the power of reading from everybody 
 else, or as if everybody would lose their eyes 
 in their heads for reading, because it had lost 
 the eyes of the mind. Hear then, you heretic, 
 the passage you have garbled : hear in full 
 and completely, what you quoted mutilated 
 and hacked about. The Apostle wants to 
 make clear to every one the twofold birth of 
 God — and in order to show how the Lord 
 was born in the Godhead and in flesh, he says, 
 " Without father, without mother : " for the 
 one belongs to the birth of Divinity, the other 
 to that of the flesh. For as He was begotten 
 in His Divine nature "without mother," so 
 He is in the body " without father : " and so 
 though He is neither without father nor with- 
 out mother, we must believe in Him " without 
 father and without mother." For if you regard 
 Him as He is begotten of the Father, He is 
 without mother: if, as born of His mother, He 
 is without father. And so in each of these 
 births He has one : in both together He is 
 without each : for the birth of Divinity had no 
 need of mother, and for the birth of His body, 
 He was Himself sufficient, without a father. 
 Therefore says the Apostle " Without mother, 
 without genealogy." 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 How Christ could be said by the Apostle to be without 
 genealogy. 
 
 How does he say that the Lord was " with- 
 out genealogy," when the Gospel of the Evan- 
 gelist Matthew begins with the Saviour's 
 genealogy, saying : " The book of the gene- 
 rations of Jesus Christ, the Son of David, the 
 Son of Abraham " ? 1 Therefore according to 
 the Evangelist He has a genealogy, and accord- 
 ing to the Apostle, He has not : for according 
 to the Evangelist, He has it on the mother's 
 side, according to the Apostle He has not, as 
 He springs from the Father. And so the Apos- 
 tle well says : " Without father, without mother, 
 without genealogy : " and where he lays down 
 that He was begotten without mother, there 
 also he records that He was without genea- 
 logy. And thus as regards both the nativities of 
 
 1 S. Matt. i. i. 
 
 the Lord, the writings of the Evangelist and 
 of the Apostle agree together. For according 
 to the Evangelist He has a genealogy " without 
 father," when born in the flesh : and according 
 to the Apostle, the Lord has not, when begot- 
 ten in His Divine nature " without mother ; " 
 as Isaiah says: "But who shall declare His 
 generation ? " - 
 
 CHAPTER XVi. 
 
 He shows that like the devil when tempting Christ, the heretics 
 garble and pervert holy Scripture. 
 
 Why then, you heretic, did you not in this 
 way quote the whole and entire passage which 
 you had read ? So you see that the Apostle 
 laid down that the Lord was "without mother" 
 in the same way in which he laid down that 
 He was born " without father : " that we might 
 know that He is " without mother " in the same 
 way in which we understand Him to be "with- 
 out father." And as it is impossible to believe 
 Him to be altogether " without father," so we 
 cannot understand that He is altogether "with- 
 out mother." Why then, you heretic, did you 
 not in this way quote what you had read in the 
 Apostle, entire and unmutilated ? But you in- 
 sert part, and omit part ; and garble the words 
 of truth in order that you may be able to build 
 up your false notions by your wicked act. I 
 see who was your master. We must believe 
 that you had his instruction, whose example 
 you are following. For so the devil in the 
 gospel when tempting the Lord said : " If Thou 
 art the Son of God, cast Thyself down. For it 
 is written that He shall give His angels charge 
 concerning Thee to keep Thee in all Thy 
 ways." 3 And when he had said this, he left 
 out the context and what belongs to it ; viz., 
 " Thou shalt walk upon the asp and the basil- 
 isk : and thou shalt trample under foot the lion 
 and the dragon." 4 Surely he cunningly quoted 
 the previous verse and left out the latter : for 
 he quoted the one to deceive Him : he held 
 his tongue about the latter to avoid condemn- 
 ing himself. For he knew that he himself 
 was signified by the asp and basilisk, the lion 
 and dragon in the Prophet's words. So then 
 you also bring forward a part and omit a part; 
 and quote the one to deceive; and omit the 
 other for fear lest if you were to quote the 
 whole, you might condemn your own decep- 
 tion. But it is now time to pass on to further 
 matters, for by dwelling too long on particular 
 points, as we are led to do by the desire of 
 giving a full answer, we exceed the limits even 
 of a longish book. 
 
 2 Isa. liii. S. 
 
 3 S. Luke iv. g, io. 
 
 * Ps. xc. (xci.) 13. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 61 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 That the glory and honour of Christ is not to be ascribed to 
 the Holy Ghost in such a way as to deny that it proceeds 
 from Christ Himself, as if all that excellency, which was in 
 Him, was another's and proceeded from another source. 
 
 You say then in another discussion, nay 
 rather in another blasphemy of yours, " and He 
 separated l the Spirit from the Divine nature 
 Who created His humanity. For Scripture 
 says that that which was born of Mary is of 
 the Holy Ghost. 2 Who also filled with right- 
 eousness (justitia) that which was created : 
 for it says ' He appeared in the flesh, was jus- 
 tified in the Spirit.' 3 Again : Who made Him 
 also to be feared by the devils : ' For I,' He 
 says, ' by the Spirit of God cast out devils.' 4 
 Who also made His flesh a temple. ' For I 
 saw His spirit descending like a dove and 
 abiding upon Him.' 5 Again : Who granted 
 to Him His ascension into Heaven. For it 
 says, " Giving a commandment to the apostles 
 whom He had chosen, by the Holy Ghost He 
 was taken up." 6 Finally that it was He who 
 granted such glory to Christ." The whole of 
 your blasphemy then consists in this : that 
 Christ had nothing of Himself : nor did He, a 
 mere man, as you say, receive anything from 
 the Word, i.e., the Son of God ; but everything 
 in Him was the gift of the Spirit. If then 
 we can show that all that which you refer to 
 the Spirit, is His own, what remains but that 
 we prove that He whom you therefore would 
 have taken to be a man, because as you say 
 everything which He has is another's, is there- 
 fore God, because everything which He has is 
 His own? And indeed we will prove this not 
 only by discussion and argument, but by the 
 voice of Divinity Itself : for nothing testifies 
 of God better than things divine. And be- 
 cause nothing knows itself better than the 
 very glory of God, we believe nothing on the 
 subject of God with greater right than those 
 writings in which God Himself is His own 
 witness. First then, as to this that you say 
 that the Holy Spirit created His humanity ; 
 we might take it simply, if we could ac- 
 knowledge that you had not brought it for- 
 ward in the interests of unbelief. For neither 
 do we deny that the flesh of the Lord was con- 
 ceived by the Holy Ghost : but we assert that 
 the body was conceived by the co-operation of 
 the Holy Ghost in such a way that we can say 
 that His Humanity 7 was created for Himself 
 by the Son of God, as the Holy Spirit Itself 
 says in holy Scripture, testifying that " Wisdom 
 hath builded for Itself a house." 8 You see 
 
 1 Separavit (Petschenig). * S. Luke xi. 20. 7 Hominem suum. 
 
 2 S. Matt. i. 20. 5 S. John i. 32. 8 p rov . ; x . r , 
 
 3 1 Tim. iii. 16. 6 Acts i. 2. 
 
 then that that which was conceived by the 
 Holy Ghost was built and perfected by the Son 
 of God : not that the work of the Son of God 
 is one thing, and the work of the Holy Ghost 
 another : but that through the unity of the 
 Godhead and glory the operation of the Spirit 
 is the building of the Son of God ; and the 
 building of the Son of God is the co-operation 
 of the Holy Ghost. And so we read not only 
 that the Holy Ghost came upon the Virgin, 
 but also that the power of the Most High over- 
 shadowed the Virgin ; that since Wisdom Itself 
 is the fulness of the Godhead, no one might 
 doubt that when Wisdom built Itself a house 
 all the fulness of the Godhead was present. 
 But the wretched hardness of your blasphemy, 
 while it tries to sever Christ from the Son of 
 God, fails to see that it is entirely severing 
 the nature of the Godhead from Itself. Un- 
 less perhaps you believe that the house is there- 
 fore built for Him by the Holy Ghost because 
 He Himself was insufficient and incapable of 
 building for Himself an hcuse. But it is as 
 absurd as it is wild, to believe that He, whcm 
 we believe to have created the whole universe 
 of things heavenly and earthly by His will, 
 was unable to build for Himself a body : es- 
 pecially as the power of the Holy Ghost is His 
 power, and the Divinity and Glory of the Trin- 
 ity are so united and inseparable, that we can- 
 not think of anything at all in One Person 
 of the Trinity, which can be separated from 
 the fulness of the Ccdhead. Therefore when 
 this is laid down and grasped ; viz., that ac- 
 cording to the faith of holy Scripture, when 
 the Holy Ghost came upon (the Virgin) and 
 the power cf the Most High overshadowed 
 her, Wisdom builded Itself an hcuse ; the rest 
 of the slanders of your blasphemy come to 
 nothing. For neither is it doubtful that He 
 made all things by Himself and in Himself, 
 in whose name and faith, the faith even of be- 
 lievers can do anything. For neither did He 
 need the aid of another, as neither have they 
 needed it, who have trusted in His power. 
 And so as for your assertions that He was jus- 
 tified by the Spirit, and that the Spirit made 
 Him to be feared by the devils, and that His 
 flesh became the temple of the Holy Ghost, 
 and that He was taken up by the Spirit into 
 heaven, they are all blasphemous and wild : 
 not because we are to believe that in all these 
 things which He Himself did, the unity and 
 co-operation of the Spirit was wanting — since 
 the Godhead is never wanting to Itself, and the 
 power of the Trinity was ever present in the 
 Saviour's works — but because you will have 
 it that the Holy Ghost gave assistance to the 
 Lord Jesus Christ as if He had been feeble 
 and powerless ; and that He granted those 
 
614 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 things to Him, which He was unable to pro- 
 cure for Himself. Learn then from sacred 
 witnesses to believe God, and not to mingle 
 falsehood with truth : for the subject does not 
 admit it, and common sense abhors the idea 
 of mingling the notions of the spirit of the 
 devil with the witnesses that are Divine. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 How we are to understand the Apostle's words : " He appeared 
 in the flesh, was justified in the Spirit," etc. 
 
 For to begin with this assertion of yours 
 that the Spirit filled with righteousness (jus- 
 titia) what was created, and your attempts to 
 prove this by the evidence of the Apostle, 
 where he says that " He appeared in the flesh, 
 was justified in the Spirit," you make each 
 statement in an unsound sense and wild spirit. 
 For you make this assertion ; viz., that you will 
 have it that He was filled with righteousness 
 by the Spirit, in order to show how He was 
 void of righteousness, as you assert that the 
 being filled with it was given to Him. And as 
 for your use of the evidence of the Apostle on 
 this matter, you garble the arrangement and 
 meaning of the sacred passage. For the 
 Apostle's statement is not as you have quoted 
 it, mutilated and spoilt. For what says the 
 Apostle ? " And evidently great is the mys- 
 tery of Godliness, which was manifested in 
 the flesh, was justified in the Spirit." 2 You 
 see then that the Apostle declared that the 
 mystery or sacrament of Godliness was justi- 
 fied. For he was not so forgetful of his own 
 words and teaching as to say that He was void 
 of righteousness, whom he had always pro- 
 claimed as righteousness, saying : " Who was 
 made unto us righteousness and sanctification 
 and redemption."' 2 Elsewhere also he says: 
 " But ye were washed, but ye were justified, 
 but ye were sanctified in the name of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ." 8 How far then from Him was 
 it to need being filled with righteousness, as 
 He Himself filled all things with righteous- 
 ness, and for His glory to be without right- 
 eousness, whose very name justifies all things. 
 You see then how foolish and wild are your 
 blasphemies, since you are trying to take away 
 from our Lord what is ever shed forth by Him 
 upon all believers in such a way that still in 
 its continuous supply it is never diminished. 
 
 1 i Tim. iii. 16. 
 
 i Cor. i. 30. 
 
 3 j Cor. vi. 11. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 That it was not only the Spirit, but Christ Himself also who 
 made Him to be feared. 
 
 You say too that the Spirit made Him to 
 be feared by the devils. To reject and re- 
 fute which, even though the horrible cha- 
 racter of the utterance is enough, we will still 
 add some instances. Tell me, I pray, you 
 who say that the fact that the devils feared 
 Him was not His own doing but another's, 
 and who will have it that this was not His 
 own power but a gift, how was it that even 
 His name had that power, of which He Him- 
 self was, according to you, void ? How was it 
 that in His name devils were cast out, sick 
 persons were cured, dead men were raised ? 
 For the Apostle Peter says to that lame man 
 who was sitting at the beautiful gate of the 
 Temple : " In the name of Jesus Christ arise 
 and walk." 4 And again in the city of Jcppa 
 to the man who had been lying en his bed 
 paralysed for eight years he says, "^Eneas, 
 may the Lord Jesus Christ heal thee : arise 
 and make thy bed for thyself." 5 Paul too 
 says to the pythonical spirit : " I charge thee 
 in the name of Jesus Christ ccme out of her," 
 and the devil came out of her. 6 But under- 
 stand from this how utterly alien this weak- 
 ness was from our Lord : for I do not call 
 even those weak, whom He by His name made 
 strong, since we never heard of any devil or 
 infirmity able to resist any of the apostles 
 since the Lord's resurrection. How then did 
 the Spirit make Him to be feared, who made 
 others to be feared? Or was He in Himself 
 weak, whose faith even through the instrumen- 
 tality of others reigned over all things ? Fi- 
 nally those men who received power from God, 
 never used that power as if it were their own : 
 but referred the power to Him from whom they 
 received it : for the power itself could never 
 have any force except through the name of 
 Him who gave it. And so both the apostles 
 and all the servants of God never did any 
 thing in their own name, but in the name and 
 invocation of Christ : for the power itself de- 
 rived its force from the same source as its 
 origin, and could not be given through the in- 
 strumentality of the ministers, unless it had 
 come from the Author. You then — who say 
 that the Lord was the same as one of His ser- 
 vants (for as the apostles had nothing but 
 what they received from their Lord, so you 
 make out that the Lord Himself had nothing 
 
 4 Acts iii. 6. 
 
 6 Acts ix. 34. 
 
 6 Acts xvi. iS. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 6i5 
 
 but what He received from the Spirit ; and 
 thus you make out that everything that He 
 had, He had not as Lord, but had received it 
 as a servant), do you tell me then, how it was 
 that He used this power as His own and not as 
 something which He had received ? For what 
 do we read of Him? He says to the paraly- 
 tic : " Arise, take up thy bed, and go to thine 
 house." 1 And again to a father who pleads 
 on behalf of his child, He says : " Go thy 
 way : thy son liveth." 2 And where an only 
 son of his mother was being carried forth for 
 burial, " Young man," He says, " I say unto 
 thee, Arise." 3 Did He then, like those who 
 received power from God, ask that power 
 might be given to Him for performing these 
 things by the invocation of the Divine Name ? 
 Why did He not Himself work by the name of 
 the Spirit, just as the apostles wrought by His 
 Name ? Finally, what does the gospel itself 
 state about Him ? It says : " He was teach- 
 ing them as one that had authority, and not 
 like the Scribes and Pharisees." 4 Or do you 
 make out that He was so proud and haughty 
 as to put to the credit of His own might the 
 power which (according to you) He had re- 
 ceived from God ? But what do we make of 
 the fact that the power never submitted to His 
 servants, except through the name of its au- 
 thor, and could have no efficacy if the actor 
 claimed any of it as his own ? 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 He tries by stronger and weightier arguments to destroy that 
 notion. 
 
 But why are we so long dealing with your 
 wild blasphemy, with arguments that are plain 
 indeed but still slight ? Let us hear God Him- 
 self speaking to His disciples : " Heal the 
 sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast 
 out devils." 5 And again : " In My name," He 
 says, " ye shall cast out devils." 6 Had He any 
 need of Another's name for the exercise of His 
 power, who made His own name to be a 
 power? But what is still added? "Behold," 
 He says, " I have given you power to tread 
 upon serpents and scorpions and upon all the 
 power of the enemy." ' He Himself says that 
 He was gentle, as indeed He was, and humble 
 in heart. And how was it that as regards the 
 greatest possible power, He commanded others 
 
 1 S. Matt. ix. 6. 
 
 2 S. John iv. 50. 
 
 3 S. Luke vii. 14 
 
 4 S. Matt. vii. 29. 
 S. Matt. x. 8. 
 
 6 S. Mark xvi. 17. 
 
 7 S. Luke x. 19. 
 
 to work in His own name, if He Himself 
 worked in Another's name ? Or did He give 
 to others, as if it were His own, what He 
 Himself, according to you, did not possess, 
 unless He received it from Another? But 
 tell me, which of the saints receiving power 
 from God, so worked ? Or would not Peter 
 have been thought a lunatic, or John a mad- 
 man, or Paul out of his mind, if they had said 
 to any sick folk : " In our name arise ; " or to 
 the lame : " In our name walk ; " or to the 
 dead: "In our name live;" or this to some: 
 " We give you power to tread upon serpents 
 and scorpions and upon all the power of the 
 enemy"? You see then from this your mad- 
 ness : for just as these words are mad if they 
 spring from man's assurance, so are you utterly 
 mad if you do not see that they come from 
 Divine power. For you must admit one of 
 two alternatives ; either that man could pos- 
 sess and give Divine power, or at any rate if 
 no man can do this, that He who could do it, 
 was God. For no one can grant of His liber- 
 ality Divine power, except Him who possesses 
 it by nature. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 That it must be ascribed equally to Christ and the Holy Ghost 
 that His flesh and Humanity became the temple of God. 
 
 But there follows in your blasphemy that 
 His flesh was made a temple of the Holy 
 Ghost, for this reason, that John has said : 
 " For I saw the Spirit descending from heaven 
 and abiding upon Him." 8 For you try to sup- 
 port even this wild statement of yours by 
 Scriptural authority : wherefore let us see 
 whether this sacred authority has said that 
 which you say. " For I saw," it says, " the 
 Spirit descending like a dove, and abiding 
 upon Him." Discern here, if you can, which 
 is the more powerful, which greater, which 
 more to be honoured? He who descended, or 
 He to whom the descent was made ? He who 
 brought down the honour, or He to whom the 
 honour was brought ? Where do you find in 
 this passage that the Spirit made His flesh a 
 temple ? or wherein does it lessen the honour 
 of God, if God Himself descended to show 
 God to mankind ? For certainly we ought not 
 to think that He is less whose high estate was 
 pointed out, than He who pointed out His 
 high estate. But away with the thought of 
 believing or making any separation in the 
 Godhead : for one and the same Godhead 
 
 8 S. John i. 32. 
 
6i6 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 and equal power shut out altogether the 
 wicked notion of inequality. And so in this 
 matter, where there is the Person of the Father 
 and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, and 
 where it is the Son of God to whom the de- 
 scent is made, the Spirit who descends, the 
 Father who gives His witness, no one had 
 more honour, and no one received any slight, 
 but it all redounds equally to the fulness of 
 the Godhead, for each Person of the Trinity 
 contains within Himself the glory of the whole 
 Trinity. And so nothing further needs to be 
 said, except only to show the rise and origin 
 of your blasphemy. For thorns and thistles 
 springing up from the roots produce shoots of 
 their own nature, and from their character 
 show their origin. So then you also, a thorny 
 offshoot of the Pelagian heresy, show in germ 
 just the same that your father is said to have 
 had in the root. For he * (as Leporius his fol- 
 lower said) declared that our Lord was made 
 the Christ by His baptism : you say that at 
 His baptism He was made the temple of God 
 by the Spirit. The words are not altogether 
 identical : but the wrong-headedness is alto- 
 gether the same. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 That the raising up of Christ into heaven is not to be ascribed 
 to the Spirit alone. 
 
 But you add this also to those impieties of 
 yours mentioned above ; viz., that the Spirit 
 granted to the Lord His ascension into 
 heaven : showing by this blasphemous notion 
 of yours that you believe that the Lord Jesus 
 Christ was so weak and powerless that had 
 not the Spirit raised Him up to heaven, you 
 fancy that He would still at this day have 
 been on earth. But to prove this assertion 
 you bring forward a passage of Scripture : for 
 you say " Giving commands to the apostles 
 whom He had chosen, by the Holy Ghost He 
 was raised up." 2 What am I to call you ? 
 What am I to think of you who by corrupting 
 the sacred writings contrive that their evi- 
 dences should not have the force of evidences? 
 A new kind of audacity, which strives by its 
 impious arguments to manage that truth may 
 seem to confirm falsehood. For the Acts of 
 the Apostles does not say what you make out. 
 For what says the Scripture ? " What Jesus 
 began to do and to teach until the day in 
 which giving charge to the apostles whom He 
 
 1 Ille enim ; viz., Pelagius. This appears to be the true reading, 
 though one MS. followed by Gazaeus has Leporius ille enim ; a read- 
 ing which would involve the supposition that there were two persons 
 of the name of Leporius, master and scholar. 
 
 2 Acts i. 2. 
 
 had chosen by the Holy Ghost, He Avas taken 
 up." Which is an instance of Hyperbaton, 
 and must be understood in this way : what 
 Jesus began to do and to teach until the day 
 in which he was taken up, giving charge to 
 the apostles whom He had chosen by the 
 Holy Ghost ; so that we ought not perhaps to 
 have to give you any further answer in this 
 matter than that of the passage itself, for the 
 entire passage ought to be sufficient for the full 
 truth, if the mutilation of it was available for 
 your falsehood. But still, you, who think that 
 our Lord Jesus Christ could not have ascended 
 into heaven, unless He had been raised up by 
 the Spirit; tell me how is it that He Himself 
 says " No one hath ascended into heaven but 
 He who came down from heaven, even the Son 
 of man who is in heaven " ? 3 Confess then 
 how foolish and absurd your notion is that He 
 could not ascend into heaven, who is said, 
 although He had descended into earth, never 
 to have been absent from heaven : and say 
 whether to leave the regions below and ascend 
 into heaven was possible for Him to whcm it 
 was easy when still on earth, ever to continue 
 in heaven. But what is that which He Him- 
 self says : " I ascend unto my Father." 4 Did 
 He imply that in this ascension there would be 
 the intervention of Another's help, who by the 
 very fact that He said He would ascend, shows 
 the efficacy of His own power? David also 
 says of the Ascension of the Lord : " God as- 
 cended with a merry noise, the Lord with the 
 sound of the trumpet : " 5 He clearly explained 
 the glory of Him who ascends by the power of 
 the ascension. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 He continues the same argument to show that Christ had no 
 need of another's glory as He had a glory of His own. 
 
 But to end let us see the addition with 
 which you sum up your preceding blasphe- 
 mies. Your words are, " Who gave such 6 
 glory to Christ ? " You name glory in order to 
 degrade Him. For by the assertion that the 
 Lord was endowed with glory, in saying that 
 He received it you blasphemously imply that 
 He stood in need of it. For your perverse 
 notion suggests that the generosity of the 
 giver shows the need of the receiver. O mis- 
 erable impiety of yours ! and where is that 
 which Divinity itself once foretold of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ ascending into heaven? Saying: 
 " Lift up your heads, and the King of glory 
 
 3 S. John iii. 13. 
 
 4 S. John xx. 17. 
 
 5 Ps. xlvi. (xlvii.)6. 
 
 6 Tantam Petschenig. Tamen Gazseus. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 617 
 
 shall come in." * And when He (after the 
 fashion of Divine utterances) had made an- 
 swer to Himself as if in the character of an 
 inquirer: "Who is the King of glory?" at 
 once He adds : " The Lord strong and mighty, 
 the Lord mighty in battle : " showing under 
 the figure of a battle fought, the victory of the 
 Lord in His triumph. Then when, to com- 
 plete the exposition of it, He had repeated the 
 words of the utterance quoted above, He 
 showed by the following conclusion the ma- 
 jesty of the Lord as He entered heaven, saying 
 " The Lord of hosts, He is the King of glory." 
 On purpose that the fact of His taking a body 
 might not interfere with the glory of His 
 mighty Divinity, He taught that the same 
 Person was Lord of hosts and King of hea- 
 venly glory, whom He had previously pro- 
 claimed Victor in the battle below. Go now 2 
 and say that the glory was given to the Lord, 
 when both prophecy has said that He was the 
 King of glory, and He Himself also has testi- 
 fied of Himself as follows : " When the Son 
 of man shall come in His glory." 3 Refute 
 it, if you can, and contradict this ; viz., that 
 whereas He testifies that He has glory of His 
 own, you say that He has received Another's. 
 Although we maintain that He has His own 
 glory, in such a way that we do not deny that 
 His very property of glory is common to Him 
 with the Father and the Holy Ghost. For 
 whatever God possesses belongs to the God- 
 head : and the kingdom of glory belongs to 
 the Son of God in such a way that it is not 
 kept back from belonging to the entire God- 
 head. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 He supports this doctrine by the authority of the blessed 
 Hilary. 
 
 But it is quite time to finish the book, aye 
 and the whole work, if I may however add the 
 sayings of a few saintly men and illustrious 
 priests, to support by the faith of the present 
 day what we have already proved by the au- 
 thority of holy Scripture. Hilary, a man en- 
 dowed with all virtues and graces, and famous 
 for his life as well as for his eloquence, who 
 also, as a teacher of the churches and a priest, 
 advanced not only by his own merits but also 
 by the progress of others, and remained so 
 steadfast during the storms of persecution that 
 through the fortitude of his unconquered faith 
 
 1 Ps. xxiii. (xxiv.) 7. 
 
 2 I nunc Petschenig. The text is however doubtful. One MS. 
 reading In /tunc, and another jam nunc. 
 
 3 S. Matt. xxv. 31. 
 
 he attained the dignity of being a Confessor, 4 
 — he testifies in the First book on the faith 
 that the Lord Jesus Christ, Very God of Very 
 God, was both begotten before the world, and 
 afterwards born as man. Again in the Second 
 book : " One only Begotten God grew in the 
 womb of the holy Virgin into the form of a 
 human body ; He who contains all things, and 
 in whose power all things are, is brought forth 
 according to the law of human birth." Again 
 in the same book : " An angel is witness that 
 He who is born is God with us." Again in 
 the Tenth book : " We have taught the mystery 
 of God born as man by the birth from the Vir- 
 gin." Again in the same book: "For when 
 God was born as man, He was not born on 
 purpose not to remain God." 5 Again in the 
 same writer's preface to his exposition of the 
 gospel according to Matthew : 6 " For to begin 
 with it was needful for us that for our sakes 
 the only Begotten God should be known to be 
 born as man." Again in what follows: "that 
 besides being God, He should be born as man, 
 which He was not yet." Again in the same 
 place : " Then this third matter was fitting : 
 that as God was born as man in the world " 
 etc. : Here are a few passages out of any 
 number. But still you see even from these 
 which we have quoted, how clearly and plainly 
 he asserts that God was born of Mary. And 
 where then is this saying of yours : " The 
 creature could not bring forth the Creator : 
 and that which is born of the flesh, is flesh." 
 It would take too long to quote passages bear- 
 ing on this point from each separate writer. I 
 must try to enumerate them rather than to ex- 
 plain them : for they will sufficiently explain 
 themselves. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 He shows that Ambrose agrees with S. Hilary. 
 
 Ambrose, that illustrious priest of God, who 
 never leaving the Lord's hand, ever shone like 
 a jewel upon the finger of God, thus speaks in 
 his book to the Virgins : " My brother is white 
 and ruddy. 7 White because He is the glory 
 of the Father : ruddy because He was born of 
 the Virgin. But remember that in Him the 
 tokens of Divinity are of longer standing than 
 the mysteries of the body. For He did not 
 
 4 S. Hilary of Poictiers (ob. a.d. 368). The reference is of 
 course to his banishment to Phrygia by the Emperor Constantius in 
 356, because of his resolute defence of the Nicene faith against 
 Arianism. 
 
 5 De Trinitate II. xxv., xxvii. ; X. vii. 
 
 • This Preface to Hilary's work on S. Matthew is now lost, 
 though the commentary itself still exists. See Opera S. Hilarii Pic- 
 tav : (Verona, 1730). Vol. i. 658. 
 
 1 Cf. Cant. v. 10 (LXX.). 
 
6i8 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 begin to exist from the Virgin, but He who 
 was already in existence, came into the Vir- 
 gin." x Again on Christmas Day: "See the 
 miracle of the mother of the Lord : A Virgin 
 conceived, a Virgin brought forth. She was a 
 Virgin when she conceived, a Virgin when with 
 child, a Virgin after the birth. As is said in 
 Ezekiel : " And the gate was shut and not 
 opened, because the Lord passed through it." 2 
 A splendid Virginity, and Avondrous fruitful- 
 ness ! The Lord of the world is born : and 
 there are no cries from her who brought Him 
 forth. The womb is left empty, and a true 
 child is born, and yet the Virginity is not de- 
 stroyed. It was right that when God was born 
 the power of chastity should become greater, 
 and that her purity should not be violated by 
 the going forth of Him who had come to heal 
 what was corrupt." 3 Again in his exposition 
 of the gospel according to Luke he says that 
 " one was especially chosen, to bring forth 
 God, who was espoused to an husband." 4 He 
 certainly declares that God was born of the 
 Virgin. He calls Mary the mother of God. 
 And where is that awful and execrable utter- 
 ance of yours asking how can she be the 
 mother of one of a different nature from her 
 own. But if she is called mother by them, it 
 is the human nature which was born not the 
 Godhead. So, that illustrious teacher of the 
 faith says both that she who bare Him was 
 human, and that He who was born is God : 
 and yet that this is no reason for unbelief, but 
 only a miracle of faith. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 He adds to the foregoing the testimony of S. Jerome. 
 
 Jerome, the Teacher of the Catholics, whose 
 writings shine like divine lamps throughout 
 the whole world, says in his book to Eusto- 
 chium : " The Son of God for our salvation 
 was made the Son of man. He waits ten 
 months in the womb to be born : and He, 
 in whose hand the world is held, is contained 
 in a narrow manger." 5 Again in his com- 
 mentary on Isaiah : " For the Lord of hosts, 
 who is the King of glory, Himself descended 
 into the Virgin's womb, and entered in and 
 went forth from the East Gate which is ever 
 shut." 6 Of whom Gabriel says to the Virgin: 
 " The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and 
 the power of the Most High shall overshadow 
 
 1 S. Ambrose. De Virg. Lib. i. xlvi. 2 Ezek. xliv. 2. 
 
 3 These words are not found in any extant writing of S. Ambrose, 
 but something very like them occurs in S. Augustine's Sixth Sermon 
 ia Natali Domini. 
 
 4 In Lucam II. i. 8 Ep. xxii. Ad Eustochium. 
 Cf. Ezek. xliv. 2. 
 
 thee. Wherefore that holy thing which shall be 
 born of thee shall be called the Son of God." 
 And in Proverbs : " Wisdom hath builded 
 herself an house." 7 Compare this if you 
 please with your doctrine or rather your blas- 
 phemy, in which you assert that God is the 
 Creator of the months, and was not an off- 
 spring of months. For lo, Jerome, a man of 
 the greatest knowledge and also of the most 
 pure and approved doctrine testifies almost in 
 the very words in which you deny that the 
 Son of God was an offspring of months, that 
 He was an offspring of months. For he says 
 that He waits ten months in the womb to be 
 born. But perhaps the authority of this man 
 seems a mere nothing to you. You may take 
 it that every one says the same and in the 
 same words, for whoever does not deny that 
 the Son of God is the offspring of the Virgin, 
 admits that He is the offspring of months. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 To the foregoing he adds Rufinus and the blessed Augustine. 
 
 Rufinus also, a Christian philosopher, with 
 no mean place among Ecclesiastical Doctors 
 testifies as follows of the Lord's Nativity in 
 his Exposition of the Creed. " For the Son 
 of God," he says, " is born of a Virgin, not 
 chiefly allied to the flesh alone, but generated 
 in the soul which is the medium between the 
 flesh and God." 8 Does he witness obscurely 
 that God was born of man ? Augustine the 
 priest 9 of Hippo Regiensis says: "That men 
 might be born of God, God was first born of 
 them : for Christ is God. And Christ when 
 born of men only required a mother on earth, 
 because He always had a Father in heaven, 
 being born of God through whom we are 
 made, and also born of a woman, through 
 whom we might be re-created." 10 Again, in 
 this place : " And the Word was made flesh 
 and dwelt among us. Why then need you 
 wonder that men are born of God ? Notice 
 how God Himself was born of men." Again 
 in his Epistle to Volusianus : " But Moses 
 himself and the rest of the prophets most 
 truly prophesied of Christ the Lord, and gave 
 Him great glory : they declared that He would 
 come not as one like themselves, nor merely 
 greater in the same sort of power of working 
 miracles, but clearly as the Lord God of all, 
 and as made man for men. Who therefore 
 Himself also willed to do such things as they 
 
 7 Book III. c. vii. 8 Rufinus in Symb. c. xiii. 
 
 9 There is no authority for the reading of Cuyck and Gazjeus 
 "Magnus Sacerdos." On the coldness with which Augustine is 
 here spoken of see the Introduction, p. 191. Note. 
 
 10 August. Tract. II. in Johan. XV. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 619 
 
 did to prevent the absurdity of His not doing 
 Himself those things which He did through 
 them. But still it was right also for Him to do 
 something special ; viz., to be born of a Virgin, 
 to rise from the dead, to ascend into heaven. 
 And if anyone thinks that this is too little for 
 God, I know not what more he can look for. 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 As he is going to produce the testimony of Greek or Eastern 
 Bishops, he brings forward in the first place S. Gregory 
 Nazianzen. 
 
 Bur perhaps because those whom we have 
 enumerated came from different parts of the 
 world, their authority may seem to you less 
 valuable. An absurd thing, indeed, because 
 faith is not interfered with by place, and we 
 have to consider what a man is, not where: 
 especially since religion unites all together, 
 and those who are in the one faith may be 
 also known to be in the one body. But still 
 we will bring forward for you some, whom you 
 cannot despise, even from the East. Gregory, 
 that most grand light of knowledge and doc- 
 trine, who though he has been for some time 
 dead, yet still lives in authority and faith, and 
 though he has been for some time removed in 
 the body from the Churches, yet has not for- 
 saken them in word and authority. " When 
 then," he says, " God had come forth from the 
 Virgin, in that human nature which He had 
 taken, as He existed in one out of two which 
 are the opposite of each other ; viz., flesh and 
 spirit, the one is taken into God, the other 
 exalts into the grace of Deity. 2 O new and 
 unheard of intermingling ! O marvellous and 
 exquisite union ! He who was, came to be, 
 and the Creator is created : and He who is 
 infinite is embraced by the soul which is the 
 medium between God and the flesh : and He 
 who makes all rich, is made poor." Again he 
 says of the Epiphany : " But what happens ? 
 What is done concerning us and for us ? There 
 is brought about some new and unheard of 
 change of natures and God is made man." 
 Again in this passage : 3 " The Son of God 
 began to be also the Son of man, not being 
 changed from what He was, for He is un- 
 
 1 Ep. cxxxvii. c. 4. 
 
 - Aliud in Deum adsumitur, aliud in Deitatis gratiam pr&stat. 
 So Petschenig edits. The text of Gazaeus lias aliud Deitatis gratia 
 prcestat. 
 
 3 Greg. Nazianz. Oratio xxxviii. The Greek of the passage 
 which Cassian translates is as follows : jrpoeAOdu' 6s ©ebs p.eT<i t?(s 
 7rpocrArji//eu>? kv etc &vo tuiv evavTl'cov, o~apKO<; Kai Trvev[j.aTos ' &v 70 
 ixev e0ea)O"e to 6e e0eu>#7i, ii> tt)s Kaiv-qq p.i£etos, S) ttj? Trapa&6£ov 
 Kpao*eu>5, 6 oiv yiveTai Kai 6 aKTt(TTO? KTi^eTai Kai 6 a^uJpTjro? 
 ^wpetrai Std p-ecrrj? ipvxys 1'oepds aecriTeuoucrTi? Ocottjtl Kai crapKos 
 Tra^vTrjTi, Kai 6 tt\ovt(.£uji> TrTco^eyet. Oratio xxxix. Tt ytVerai Kai 
 ri to (J-eya. Trepi i]p.ds p.vaTrjpioi' ; KaivOTO^ovvrai (/)u<reis Kai ®ebs 
 ai'OptoTTOs yiVerat . . . Kai 6 nib? toO ©eou 6€\eTat Kai vtb? 
 ai>9pujTTov yei'eo~6ai re Kai K\r\Qr)vai, ov\ b -qv ueTa$aAa>i', arpzivTovv 
 yap, dAA 'o ovk r]i' nposAafiwv, <pt,Ady0pa>7Tos yap, iva. \oipn]0fi o 
 d,\wpi?TO?. 
 
 changeable, but taking to Himself what He 
 was not : for He is pitiful so that He, who 
 could not be embraced, can now be embraced." 
 You see how grandly and nobly he asserts the 
 majesty of His Godhead so that He may bring 
 in the condescension of the Incarnation : for 
 that admirable teacher of the faith knew well 
 that of all the blessings which God granted to 
 us at His coming into the world this was the 
 chief, without diminishing in any way His 
 glory. For whatever God gave to man, ought 
 to increase the love of Him in us, and not to 
 lessen the honour which we give to Him. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 In the next place he puts the authority of S. Athanasius. 
 
 Athanasius also, priest of the city of Alex- 
 andria, a splendid instance of constancy and 
 virtue, whom the storm of heretical persecu- 
 tion tested without crushing him : whose life 
 was always like a clear glass, and who had 
 almost obtained the reward of martyrdom be- 
 fore attaining the dignity of confessorship : 
 Let us see what was his view of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ and the mother of the Lord. 
 " This then," he says, " is the mind and stamp 
 of Holy Scripture, as we have often said; viz., 
 that in one and the same Saviour two things 
 have to be understood: (i) that He was ever 
 God, and is Son, Word, and Light, and Wis- 
 dom of the Father, and (2) that afterwards 
 for our sakes He took flesh of the Virgin 
 Mary the Theotocos, and was made man." 4 
 Again after some other matter : " Many then 
 were saints and clean from sin: Jeremiah also 
 was sanctified from the womb, and John, while 
 still in the womb leapt for joy at the voice of 
 Mary the Theotocos.''' 5 He certainly says 
 that God, the Son of God, who (to declare 
 the faith of all in his words) is " the Word, 
 and Light and Wisdom of the Father," took 
 flesh for our sakes ; and therefore he calls the 
 Virgin Mary Theotocos, because she was the 
 Mother of God. 
 
 CFIAPTER XXX. 
 
 He adds also S. John Chrysostom. 
 
 As for John the glory of the Episcopate 
 of Constantinople, whose holy life obtained 
 
 4 See the orations against the Arians IV. The Greek is as follows : 
 2ko7T05 toIvvv oSto? Kai xapaKTrjp T7J<r ypa$)js, 10; TroAAaKi; eiTrop.et', 
 QiTrk-qv eivaL Tr]V 7repi tou craJTTypos aTTayyeAiai' eV avrrj, OTt re aet 
 Oeb? r}V Kai eo"Ttv 6 V£os, Abyos ujv Kai a7Tauya<7/xa koli o~0(pLc tov 
 7raTpo?, Kai on vcrrepov Si' rjp.a5 aapKa \afiiuv eK irapdivov tt)s deo- 
 tokov Maptd? av9p(x)TT0<; yeyoyej*. 
 
 5 Ibid. 7roAAoi youy ayioi yeybpaffi Kai Ka9apo\ 7rdo"r)^ auapTtas * 
 'Iepepia? 6e Kai « KotAia? rjyidcrSr) Kai 'luiavvqs en Kiio^opovueyos 
 ea'KipTTjo'ei' eV ayaAAtdcret eVi tt; (faoji'fj tyjs OeoTOKOu Mapias. 
 
620 
 
 THE SEVEN BOOKS OF JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 the reward of martyrdom without any show 
 of Gentile persecution, hear what he thought 
 and taught on the Incarnation of the Son of 
 God: "And Him," he says, "whom if He had 
 come in unveiled Deity neither the heaven nor 
 the earth nor the sea nor any other creature 
 could have contained, the pure womb of a Vir- 
 gin bore." * This man's faith and doctrine 
 then, even if you ignore that of others, you 
 ought to follow and hold, as out of love and af- 
 fection for him the pious people chose you as 
 their Bishop. For when it took you for its 
 priest from the Church of Antioch, from which 
 it had formerly chosen him, it believed that it 
 would receive in you all that it had lost in 
 him. 2 Did not, I ask you, all these almost 
 with prophetic spirit say all these things in 
 order to confound your blasphemies. For you 
 declare that our Lord and Saviour Christ is 
 not God : they declare that Christ the Lord 
 is Very God. You blasphemously assert that 
 Mary is Christotocos not Theotocos : they do 
 not deny that she is Christotocos, while they 
 acknowledge her as Theotocos. Not merely 
 the substance but the words also are opposed 
 to your blasphemies : that we may clearly see 
 that an impregnable bulwark was formerly 
 prepared by God against your blasphemies, 
 to break on the wall of truth ready prepared, 
 the force of the heretical attack which was at 
 some time or other to come. And you, O you 
 most wicked and shameless contaminator of 
 an illustrious city, you disastrous and deadly 
 plague of a Catholic and holy people, do you 
 dare to stand and teach in the Church of God, 
 and with your wild and blasphemous words 
 slander the priests of an ever unbroken faith 
 and Catholic confession, and say that the peo- 
 ple of the city of Constantinople are in error 
 through the fault of their earlier teachers ? 
 Are you then the corrector of former Bishops, 
 the accuser of ancient priests, are you better 
 than Gregory, more approved than Nectarius, 
 greater than John, 3 and all the other Bishops 
 of Eastern cities who, though not of the same 
 renown as those whom I have enumerated, 
 were yet of the same faith ? which, as far as 
 the matter in hand is concerned, is enough : 
 
 1 The passage has not heen identified with any now extant in the 
 writings of S. Chrysostom. 
 
 2 S. Chrysostom had been taken from Antioch for the Bishopric 
 of Constantinople : and after the death of Sisinnius in 426, as there 
 was so much rivalry and party spirit displayed at Constantinople, 
 the Emperor determined that none of that Church should fill the 
 vacant see, but sent for Nestorius from Antioch, where he had al- 
 ready gained a great reputation for eloquence (cf. Socrates H. E. 
 VII. xxix.). It is to the fact that both S. Chrysostom and Nestorius 
 came from the same city that Cassian alludes in the text. 
 
 3 The reference is to Gregory Nazianzen, Bishop of Constanti- 
 nople from 379 to 381 when he retired in the interests of peace; 
 to Nectarius who was chosen to succeed him, and occupied the post 
 from 3S1 to 397; and to his successor, S. John Chrysostom, 397 to 
 404. 
 
 for when it is a question of the faith, all are as 
 good as the best in so far as they agree with 
 the best. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 He bemoans the unhappy lot of Constantinople owing to the 
 misfortune which has overtaken it from ^that heretic ; and at 
 the same time he urges the citizens to stand fast in the 
 ancient Catholic and ancestral faith. 
 
 Wherefore I also, humble and insignificant 
 as I am in name as in desert, and although I 
 cannot claim a place as Teacher among those 
 illustrious Bishops of Constantinople, yet ven- 
 ture to claim the zeal and enthusiasm of a 
 disciple. For I was admitted into the sacred 
 ministry by the Bishop John, of blessed me- 
 mory, and offered to God, and even though I am 
 absent in body yet I am still there in heart : 
 and though by actual presence I no longer mix 
 with that most dear and honourable people of 
 God, yet I am still joined to them in spirit. 
 And hence it comes that condoling and sym- 
 pathizing with them, I broke out just now into 
 the utterance of our common grief and sorrow, 
 and in my weakness cried out (which was all 
 that I could do) by means of the dolorous 
 lamentation of my works, as if for my own 
 limbs and members : for if as the Apostle 
 says, when the smaller part of the body is 
 grieved, the greater part grieves and sympa- 
 thizes with it, 4 how much more should the 
 smaller part sympathize when the greater part 
 is grieved? It is indeed utterly inhuman for 
 the smaller parts not to feel the sufferings of 
 the greater in one and the same body, if the 
 greater feel those of the smaller. Wherefore 
 I pray and beseech you, you who live within 
 the circuit of Constantinople, and who are 
 my fellow-citizens through the love of my 
 country, and my brothers through the unity of 
 the faith ; separate yourselves from that raven- 
 ing wolf who (as it is written) devours the 
 people of God, as if they were bread. 5 Touch 
 not, taste not anything of his, for all those things 
 lead to death. Come out from the midst of him 
 and be ye separate and touch not the unclean 
 thing. Remember your ancient teachers, and 
 your priests ; Gregory whose fame was spread 
 through the world, Nectarius renowned for 
 holiness, John a marvel of faith and purity : 
 John, I say ; that John who like John the 
 Evangelist was indeed a disciple of Jesus and 
 an Apostle; and so to speak ever reclined on 
 the breast and heart of the Lord. Remember 
 him, I say. Follow him. Think of his purity, 
 his faith, his doctrine, and holiness. Remem- 
 
 * Cf. 1 Cor. xii. 26. 
 
 6 Ps. xiii. (xiv.) 4; Col. ii. 21, 23; 2 Cor. vi. 17. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 621 
 
 ber him ever as your teacher and nurse, in 
 whose bosom and embraces you as it were 
 grew up. Who was the teacher in common 
 both of you and of me : whose disciples and 
 pupils we are. Read his writings. Hold fast 
 his instruction. Embrace his faith and merits. 
 For though to attain this is a hard and mag- 
 nificent thing : yet even to follow is beautiful 
 and sublime. For in the highest matters, not 
 merely the attainment, but even the attempt 
 to copy is worthy of praise. For scarcely any- 
 one entirely misses all parts in that to which 
 he is trying to climb and reach. He then 
 should ever be in your minds and almost in 
 your sight : he should live in your hearts and 
 in your thoughts. He would himself commend 
 to you this that I have written, for it was he 
 who taught me what I have written : and so do 
 not think of this as mine, so much as his : for 
 the stream comes from the spring, and what- 
 ever you think belongs to the disciple, ought 
 all to be referred to the honour of the master. 
 But, beyond and above all I pray with all my 
 
 heart and voice, to Thee, O God the Father of 
 our Lord Jesus Christ, that Thou wouldest 
 fill with the gift of Thy love whatever we have 
 written by Thy bounteous grace. And be- 
 cause, as the Lord our God Thine Only Begot- 
 ten Son Himself taught us, Thou hast so loved 
 this world as to send Thine Only Begotten Son 
 to save the world, grant to Thy people whom 
 Thou hast redeemed that in the Incarnation of 
 Thine Only Begotten Son they may perceive 
 both Thy gift and His love : and that all may 
 understand the truth that for us Thine Only 
 Begotten, our Lord God, was born and suffered 
 and rose again, and may so love it that the 
 condescension of His glory may increase our 
 love : and let not His Humility lead to a dimi- 
 nution of His honour in the hearts of all men, 
 but let it ever produce an increase of love : and 
 may we all rightly and wisely comprehend the 
 blessings of His Sacred Compassion, so as to 
 see that we owe the more to God, in propor- 
 tion as for our sakes God humbled Himself 
 vet lower. 
 
INDICES. 
 
 SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 INDEX OF SUBIECTS. 
 
 Abraham, 71. 
 
 Ambrose, St., on baptism, 5. 
 
 Angels, 71. 
 
 Antichrist, the coming of, 15; battle 
 with Nero about the rule of the 
 earth, 45; the ten plagues at 
 his coming, 112. 
 
 Arianism, in Illyria and Gaul, 7; or- 
 igin, spread, definition, and his- 
 tory, 113; infiltration in the 
 catholic church after the council 
 of Nice, intrigues, violence, 114; 
 Valens, the condemnation of 
 Athanasius, 1 15; Liberius and 
 Hilarius exiled, homo-ousion 
 and homoi-ousion, Osius of 
 Spain, the Gallic bishops at 
 Ariminum, 116, the synod of 
 Seleucia in the East, 117; vic- 
 tory of the Arians, 118; final 
 overthrow of Arianism, 1 19. 
 
 Athanasius, 114. 
 
 Auxentius, 7. 
 
 Avenger and Defensor, 8. 
 
 Avitianus, 47, 49. 
 
 Baptism, in its relation to regenera- 
 tion, 5; dying without baptism, 8. 
 
 Bishops, appointment of, 8; " sum- 
 mus sacerdos," 17; St. Martin's 
 episcopal throne, 38; his mir- 
 aculous power greater while a 
 monk than when a bishop, 39. 
 
 Christ, the birth, life, and crucifixion 
 
 of, 1 10. 
 Chronology, 56, 71, 72, 77, 106. 
 Clarus, 15, 20. 
 Claudia, the sister of Sulpitius, 55, 
 
 58. 
 Creation of the world, the number of 
 
 days not given, but the number 
 
 of years, 71. 
 Cross, The true, 1 13. 
 
 Daniel, 97. 
 
 David, 87 et seq. 
 
 Day of Judgment approaching, The, 
 
 14. 
 Demons, 42, 48, 49, 53, 1 10. 
 Devil, The, and St. Martin, 14; 
 
 Clarus, Anatolius, and the 
 devil's garment, 15; tempts St. 
 Martin, 16. 
 
 Dialogue I., between Postumianus, 
 returning from the East, Sulpi- 
 tius, and a Gallic friend, con- 
 cerning the virtues of the monks 
 of the East, 24; visit to Cyrene; 
 the presbyter's hut, the church; 
 comparison between Cyrene and 
 Gaul; refusal of gold coins, ac- 
 ceptance of pieces of clothing, 
 25; visit to Alexandria, strife 
 between the bishops and the 
 monks about the writings of 
 Origen, 26; visit to Bethlehem; 
 Hieronymus; his attack on the 
 Gallic monks, 27; visit to The- 
 bais; the monks of the Desert 
 and their abbot, 28; comparison 
 with the monks of Gaul, 29; the 
 hermit and his ox, 30; the her- 
 mit and the wolf, 30; the an- 
 chorite and the lioness, 31; the 
 anchorite and the ibex, 32; the 
 recluse of Mount Sinai, 32; 
 the monasteries along the Nile 
 and the principle of monastic 
 life; obedience, 32; examples of 
 obedience, 32; recluses caught 
 by vanity and spurious righteous- 
 ness, and punished therefor, 
 33; eulogy of the book of Sul- 
 pitius on St. Martin; eulogy of 
 the monarchism of the East, and 
 transition to the eulogy of St. 
 Martin, 34. 
 
 Dialogue II., between the same in- 
 terlocutors concerning the vir- 
 tues of St. Martin, 37; clothing 
 the shivering man, 37; restores 
 Evanthius and the poisoned bag, 
 38; is beaten by the soldiers 
 but stops their conveyance, 39; 
 preaches to the Carmites and re- 
 stores the widow's dead son, 40; 
 forces an entrance to Valentin- 
 ian, 40; in intercourse with the 
 palace, 41; the cow with the 
 demon on its back, 42; the 
 
 623 
 
 hunted hare, 43; sayings, 43; 
 the soldier and his wife, 43; 
 virgins and women, 44; conver- 
 sation with Agnes, Thecla, and 
 Mary, 45; synod of Memausus; 
 Nero and Antichrist, 45. 
 Dialogue III., continuation of Dia- 
 logue II., 46. A great number 
 of people rush to the place 
 but are not admitted, as it is 
 not proper for the merely cu- 
 rious to mix with the truly pious, 
 46; St. Martin as a Western 
 compeer of the Eastern saints, 
 46; the dumb girl of Carmites, 
 46; blessed oil, 47; Avitianus, 
 47, 49; manner of exorcising 
 demons, 48; the village of the 
 Senones, 49; the idol-temple of 
 the Ambatienses, 49; various 
 miracles, 50; Priscillian and 
 Ilhacius, 50; the ordination of 
 Felix, 52; the Egyptian mer- 
 chant, Lycontius, and other 
 miracles, 52; " If Christ bore 
 with Judas why should not I 
 bear with Brichio? " 53. 
 
 Esther and Judith, 102. 
 
 Felix, 52, 54. 
 Fish at Easter, 50. 
 
 Gnosticism appears in Spain, 119; 
 its origin in the East, spread, 
 and invasion in the West, 120. 
 
 Helena, 113. 
 Herod, no. 
 
 Idols and idolatry among the Gauls, 
 
 49; among the Hebrews, 84. 
 Israel in Egypt, 75. 
 Ithacius, 50, 120. 
 
 Jerome in Bethlehem; his attack on 
 
 the Gallic monks, 27. 
 Jerusalem, 91; destruction, ill; the 
 
 Jews forbidden to approach the 
 
 city, 112; magnificently rebuilt 
 
 by the Christians, 113. 
 
624 
 
 SULPITIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 Jews, The, slaughtered at the time of 
 Passover to expiate the crucifix- 
 ion of Christ, ill. 
 
 Joseph, 75. 
 
 Joshua, 81. 
 
 Judith and Esther, 102, 104. 
 
 Julian, the Apostate, 4, 6. 
 
 Length of Life among the fathers of 
 mankind, 71, 72, 73. 
 
 Letters, whose genuineness is not 
 doubted. — I. To E u s e b i u s, 
 concerning some infirmity as- 
 cribed to St. Martin, and not 
 spoken of in his life by Sul- 
 pitius, 18. — II. To Aurelius, 
 concerning a vision of St. Mar- 
 tin, which occurred to Sulpitius 
 at the moment of the death of 
 the former, 19. — III. To Bas- 
 swla, concerning the death of 
 St. Martin, 21. 
 
 Letters, whose genuineness is doubt- 
 ed. — I. To his sister Claudia, 
 concerning the last judgment, 
 
 55. Happy shall be our depart- 
 ure, for glory will be granted us 
 through mercy. But where shall 
 the wise men of the world be? 
 
 56. They will say: "We did 
 not know Thee, Lord," but 
 Noah will testify against them 
 and Abraham, 56; and David 
 and the Son of God, 57; and 
 the Evangelist will say to them: 
 "Go you into outer darkness." 
 — II. To his sister Claudia, con- 
 cerning virginity, 58. Virginity 
 has both the common and a 
 special grace. No court of 
 heaven is closed against the vir- 
 gins. Christ chose a virgin for 
 mother, 58. But as honey is 
 preserved by the wax, so virgin- 
 ity cannot be possessed without 
 some other necessary adjuncts, 
 
 59. Virginity must lead to con- 
 tempt of the world, and con- 
 tempt of the world again to 
 righteousness, 59. Definition of 
 righteousness, 60, according to 
 which the Christian must not 
 only keep himself from wicked- 
 ness, but also fulfil the duties, 
 
 60. The question, however, is 
 not about the nature of the of- 
 fence, but about the transgres- 
 sion of the commandment, 61. 
 While the married woman pleases 
 her husband, the unmarried 
 pleases God, 62; and everything 
 depends upon being pure also in 
 spirit, 63. But why did not the 
 Apostles enjoin these things on 
 virgins? 64. Because it was un- 
 necessary, for if you wish to be 
 with Christ, you must live ac- 
 cording to the example of Christ, 
 65. Rules for virgins and women 
 in general, 66. — III. To Paul, 
 the bishop, recommending a 
 rather mediocre cook to him, 67. 
 
 — IV. To the same, compli- 
 menting him upon his talent and 
 success as an instructor and edu- 
 cator, 68. —V. To an unknown 
 person, concerning a youth who 
 had fallen into the snares of the 
 theatre but escaped, 68. — VI. 
 To Salvius, concerning some 
 rural and domestic affairs, 69. 
 
 — VII. To an unknown per- 
 son, asking for a letter, 70. 
 
 Manna, 78. 
 
 Martin, St., Birth, military service, 
 4; vision of Christ, baptism, 5; 
 retires from military service, con- 
 verts a robber, 6; meets the 
 devil, visits Illyria, Milan, 
 Rome, joins Hilarius, restores a 
 catechumen to life, 7; restores 
 one strangled, becomes bishop 
 of Tours, 8; his hermit cell, 
 fasts, camel-hair clothing, 9; 
 demolishes the robber's altar, 
 stops the peasants with the dead 
 body, 9; escapes from a falling 
 pine-tree, destroys heathen altars 
 and temples, IO; offers his neck 
 to an assassin, cures the paralytic 
 girl at Treves, 1 1 ; casts out 
 several devils, performs various 
 miracles, 12; cures by a letter, 
 13; at the banquet of Maximus, 
 13; disputes with the devil, 14; 
 Clarus, Anatolius, and the devil's 
 garment, 15; tempted by the 
 devil, 16; intercourse with Sul- 
 pitius, 16; excellences, 16; piety, 
 17; death, 19, 21; virtues, see 
 Dialogue I., II., III. 
 
 Martyrs in Gaul, 112. 
 
 Maximus, the emperor, invites St. 
 Martin to a banquet, 13; the 
 queen waits upon him, 46; Pris- 
 cillian and Ithacius, 50. 
 
 Memausus, Synod of, 45. 
 
 Mercury annoying St. Martin, Jupiter 
 stupid and doltish, 45; acknow- 
 ledging themselves demons, 49. 
 
 Miracles, views of, by Sulpitius Seve- 
 rus, Dr. Arnold of Rugby, Arch- 
 deacon Farrar, 4; performed by 
 St. Martin, 7, 8, 11, 12, 13; 
 views of the miracles of St. Mar- 
 tin, by Milner and Cardinal 
 Newman, 17; more miracles by 
 St. Martin, 38, 39; testimonies 
 to miracles, 48. 
 
 Mistakes in Sulpitius's Sacred His- 
 tory, 71, 72, 75, 79, 85, 87, 94, 
 
 95. "5- 
 
 Monasteries along the Nile, 32. 
 Moses, 76. 
 
 Nero and Antichrist, 45, no; his 
 death, in. 
 
 Obedience, the principle of monastic 
 life, 32. 
 
 Origen. Forgery in his writings; re- 
 lation to Hieronymus, 26; mar- 
 tyrdom, 112. 
 
 Paradise situated outside our world 
 altogether, 71. 
 
 Persecutions of the Christians, no, 
 112; end of persecutions, 112. 
 
 Popes, " papa," 17. 
 
 Prayer as the foundation of miracu- 
 lous power, 19, 40, 46, 49. 
 
 Priscillian, 50, 120. 
 
 Quotations from the Bible. 5, Matt. 
 xxv. 40; 7, Ps. cxviii. 6; Luke 
 viii. 46; 8, Ps. viii. 3; 9, Matt, 
 iii. 4; Matt. xi. 8; 18, Matt, 
 xxvii. 42; Acts xxviii. 4; Rom. 
 xi. 13; 2 Cor. xi. 25; 55, Luke 
 iv. 62; Ezek. xviii. 24; 56, Ex. 
 xx. 14; Lev. xix. 18; Deut. vi. 
 13; Ex. xx. 3; Ps. cxi. 2; Fs. 
 cxlix. 5; 57, cxii. 10; Isa. v. 
 8; Matt. xxii. 13; Ps. xxxiv. 
 13; 58, Rom. xii. 1; 2 Cor. 
 vii. 17; Isa. lvi. 5; Matt. xix. 
 12; Rev. xiv. 5; 59, 2 Cor. vii. 
 25; 60, Ps. xxxiv. 14; Rom. 
 xii. 15; Matt. vii. 12; 61, Matt, 
 xxv. 41; James ii. 10; 62, 1 
 Cor. vii. 34; Phil. iv. 8; Eccl. 
 xxi. 24; 63, Prov. iii. 3; Wisd. 
 i. 12; Ps. xxiv. 3; 1 Pet. i. 22; 
 Rev. xiv. 4; 1 John iii. 24; 2 
 Pet. ii. 8; 64, Rev. xiv. 5; Eph. 
 v. 27; 1 Pet. iii. 1; 65, Ps. xcvii. 
 10; John v. 24. 
 
 Revelation, The, foolishly or impi- 
 ously not received by many, 112. 
 
 Samson, 84. 
 
 Samuel, 86. 
 
 Saul, 86. 
 
 Sayings of St. Martin, 43. 
 
 " Secretarium," 19. 
 
 Simon Mngus, 1 10. 
 
 Slavery, 78. 
 
 Solomon, 90. 
 
 Sulpitius Severus. Life, 1 ; writings, 
 2; editions and translations, 1; 
 estimates by Paulinus of Nola, 
 Gennadius, p.p. Scaliger, Vos- 
 sius, Archdeacon Farrar, 2; 
 reasons for writing the life of St. 
 Martin, 3; intercourse with St. 
 Martin, 16; defence of St. Mar- 
 tin, 18; Vision of St. Martin, 
 19; see Dialogues and Letters. 
 
 " Summus Sacerdos," 17, 58. 
 
 Ten Tribes, The, 102. 
 
 Texts, corrupted or uncertain, 4, 8, 
 10, 14, 21, 22, 23, 38, £i, 43, 
 46, 47, 59, 61, 62, 65, 67, 76, 
 77, 80, 86, 108, 114. 
 
 Thebais, The monks of, 28; the boy 
 and the asp, 29; the hermit and 
 his ox, 30; the hermit and the 
 wolf, 30; the anchorite and the 
 lioness, 31; the anchorite and 
 the ibex, 32. 
 
 Valentinian, the emperor, 40. 
 Virgins, 44, 58 sqq. 
 
 Women, 40, 41, 44, 62, 66. 
 
INDEX OF TEXTS. 
 
 625 
 
 INDEX OF TEXTS. 
 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Gen. iv. 17 71 
 
 Prov. iv. 26 . . . 63 
 
 St. Matt. xi. 8 . 
 
 9 
 
 I Cor. vii. 34 . 62 
 
 viii. 20 
 
 
 
 72 
 
 xi. 20 . 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 xiii. 43 . . 
 
 62 
 
 xii. 9 . 
 
 
 
 II 
 
 xviii. 1 
 
 
 
 56 
 
 xvii. 3 . 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 xix. 12 
 
 58 
 
 2 Cor. xi. 25 
 
 
 
 18 
 
 Exod. xx. 3 
 
 
 
 56 
 
 Eccl. iv. 21 
 
 
 
 62 
 
 xix. 17 
 
 59 
 
 Eph. iv. 29 
 
 
 
 66 
 
 xx. 14 . 
 
 
 
 56 
 
 iv. 31 . 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 xxii. 13 
 
 57 
 
 v. 27 . 
 
 
 
 64 
 
 Lev. xix. 18 
 
 
 
 56 
 
 xxvi. 24 
 
 
 
 62 
 
 xxv. 40 . 
 
 5 
 
 Phil. iv. 8 . 
 
 
 
 62 
 
 Deut. vi. 13 
 
 
 
 56 
 
 xxviii. 24 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 xxv. 41 
 
 61 
 
 Col. iii. 12 . 
 
 
 
 * 65 
 
 1 Sam. v. 6 
 
 
 
 86 
 
 Isa. v. 8 . 
 
 
 
 57 
 
 xxvii 42 . 
 
 18 
 
 I Thes. v. 15 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 xiii. 20 
 
 
 
 87 
 
 xxvi. 15 
 
 
 
 66 
 
 St. Luke ii. 36 
 
 102 
 
 I Tim. ii. 9, 10 
 
 
 64 
 
 Ps. ii. 11 . 
 
 
 
 67 
 
 xxxvii. 
 
 
 
 95 
 
 iv. 62 . 
 
 53 
 
 2 Tim. ii. 24 
 
 
 
 66 
 
 viii. 3 . 
 
 
 
 8 
 
 lvi. 5 . 
 
 
 
 58 
 
 viii. 46 
 
 7 
 
 James ii.* 10 
 
 
 
 61 
 
 xxxiv. 14 
 
 
 
 60 
 
 lxvi. 2 . 
 
 
 
 67 
 
 St. John v. 44 
 
 65 
 
 iii. 2 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 xxxiv. 10 
 
 
 
 57 
 
 Jer. xii. 13 
 
 
 
 66 
 
 Acts xiii. 21 . . 
 
 88 
 
 I Pet. i. 22 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 xxxiv. 13 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 xlviii. 10 
 
 
 
 67 
 
 xx. 28 . . 
 
 57 
 
 iii. 1 ff 
 
 
 
 64 
 
 xlv. 10 
 
 
 
 65 
 
 Ezek. xviii. 24 
 
 
 
 55 
 
 xxviii. 4 . 
 
 18 
 
 iii 9 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 xcvii. IO 
 
 
 
 65 
 
 xxxvii. 
 
 
 
 98 
 
 Rom. i. 9-12 . . 
 
 55 
 
 2 Pet. ii. 8 . 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 cxi. 1 . 
 
 
 
 56 
 
 Wisd. i. 1 1 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 xi. 13 . . . 
 
 18 
 
 I John iii. 21 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 cxii. 10 
 
 
 
 57 
 
 St. Matt. iii. 4 
 
 \ 
 
 
 9 
 
 xii. I . . . 
 
 58 
 
 Rev. vii. 14 
 
 
 
 20 
 
 cxviii. 6 
 
 
 
 7 
 
 v. 8 . 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 xii. 14 . 
 
 63 
 
 xiii. 3 . 
 
 
 
 in 
 
 cxlix. 5 
 
 
 
 56 
 
 v. 28 . 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 xii. 15 . . . 
 
 60 
 
 xiv. 4 . .58, 63, 64 
 
 Prov. iii. 3 . 
 
 
 
 • 63 
 
 vii. 12. 
 
 
 
 60 
 
 I Cor. vi. 17 . 
 
 58 
 
 xiv. 4 ff . . . 64 
 
 iv. 23 . 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 x, 22 . 
 
 
 
 67 
 
 vii. 25 . . . 
 
 59 
 
 
 
 
 
VINCENT OF LERINS. 
 
 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 Agrippinus, bishop of Carthage, 
 
 135- 
 
 Ambrose, St. de Fide, 134. 
 
 Antelmi, 143, 157. 
 
 Apollinaris, 12S, 139, 143. 
 
 Ariminum, council of, 133. 
 
 Arius, 128, 133, 150. 
 
 Aries, council of, 135. 
 
 Athanasius, St., 133. 
 
 Athanasian Creed, 128, 140, 141, 157. 
 
 Augustine St., 127, 135, 155, 158, 159. 
 
 Baptism, Iteration of, 128, 134, 135. 
 Baronius, 127. 
 Bazaine, Marshal, 127. 
 
 Capreolus, Bishop of Carthage, 155. 
 Celestine, Pope, 127, 130, 156, 159. 
 Celestine, letter to the bishops of 
 
 Southern Gaul, 156, 159. 
 Ccelestius, 149, 150. 
 Commonitorium, 131. 
 Communication of Properties, 142. 
 Cyprian, St., 135. 
 Cyril, St., of Alexandria, 127, 155. 
 
 Development, 147. 
 
 Donatus, Donatists, 128, 133. 
 
 Ephesus, council of, 127, 130, 138, 
 
 Faustus, bishop of Riez, 127. 
 
 Gennadius, 127, 128. 
 
 Honorat St., Island of, 127. 
 Honoratus, St., 127, 131. 
 Hilary, bishop of Aries, 127, 157. 
 Hilary, bishop of Poictiers, 133. 
 Hooker, 133, 135, 142. 
 
 Jerome, St., 133. 
 
 "Julian, bishop of Eclanum, 153. 
 
 Lerins, island of, 127. 
 
 Mammea, mother of the Emperor 
 
 Severus, 144. 
 Marguerite, St., island of, 127. 
 Massilian clergy, 127, 158. 
 Monasterium, 127. 
 Montanus, 145. 
 
 Nestorius, 130, 138, 139, 140, 143, 155. 
 Nicene creed, enlarged, 129. 
 Novatian, 150. 
 Noris, Cardinal, 127. 
 
 Objectiones Vincentianae, 128. 
 Orange, 2d council of, 149. 
 Origen, 129, 143. 
 Orosius, 149. 
 
 Pelagius, 149. 
 
 Person, persona, 141, 142. 
 
 Philip, the first Christian emperor, 
 
 144. 
 Photinus, 128. 
 Possidius, 134. 
 Porphyry, 139, 144. 
 Prosper, 127, 158, 159. 
 
 Quod ubique, quod semper, quod 
 ab omnibus, 12S, 132. 
 
 Sabellius, 150. 
 
 Sedes apostolica, 135. 
 
 Semi-Pelagianism, 128, 149. 
 
 Simon Magus, 150. 
 
 Sixtus Third, Pope, 127, 130, 155. 
 
 Stephen, Pope, 134. 
 
 Tertullian, 129, 145. 
 Theotocos, 143, 157. 
 Tillemont, 128, 132. 
 
 Vandal persecution, 134. 
 Victor, Bishop of Vite, 134. 
 Villula, 131. 
 
 Waterland, 157. 
 
 Zosimus, bishop of Rome, 149. 
 
 INDEX OF TEXTS. 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Gen. ix. 22 
 
 • 136 
 
 St. Matt. iv. 5 
 
 ISI 
 
 2 Cor. xi. 12 . . . 151 
 
 1 Tim. vi. 20 . .14 
 
 7. 1S6 
 
 Exod. xxxi. I . 
 
 • 147 
 
 vii. 15 . . 
 
 I50 
 
 xii. 2 . 
 
 
 
 137 
 
 2 Tim. ii. 16, 17 . 
 
 136 
 
 Deut. xiii. 1 
 
 138, 145 
 
 St. John iii. 13 
 
 142 
 
 Gal. i. 6 . 
 
 
 
 136 
 
 iii. 6 . . . 
 
 136 
 
 xxxii. 7 
 
 • 131 
 
 Acts xi. 28 
 
 153 
 
 i. S . 
 
 
 
 136 
 
 iii. 8 . . . 
 
 136 
 
 Ps. xxii. 16 
 
 . 142 
 
 Rom. vii. 13 . 
 
 I40 
 
 i. 9 . 
 
 
 
 156 
 
 iii. 9 . . . 
 
 136 
 
 xlvi. 10 . 
 
 • 131 
 
 xvi. 17, 18 . 
 
 136 
 
 ii. 9 . 
 
 
 
 I50 
 
 iv. 3, 4 . . 
 
 136 
 
 Prov. iii. 1 . . 
 
 • 131 
 
 I Cor. i. IO . . 
 
 153 
 
 v. 16 . 
 
 
 
 137 
 
 Titus i. 10 . . . 
 
 136 
 
 ix. 16-1S . 
 
 • 147 
 
 ii. 8 . . . 
 
 142 
 
 v. 25 . 
 
 
 
 137 
 
 2 John 10 . . . 
 
 149 
 
 xxii. 17 . 
 
 • 131 
 
 ii. 9 . . . 
 
 I46 
 
 I Tim. i. 19 
 
 
 
 136 
 
 Rev. v. 1-5 . . 
 
 134 
 
 xxii. 28 
 
 146 
 
 V. II . . . 
 
 149 
 
 v. 12 . 
 
 
 
 136 
 
 
 
 Eccles. x. 8 
 
 . 146 
 
 xii. 27, 2S 
 
 153 
 
 v. 13 . 
 
 
 
 136 
 
 
 
 Ecclus. viii. 14 
 
 . 146 
 
 xiv. 33 (bis) 
 
 iS3 
 
 vi. 4 . 
 
 
 
 136 
 
 
 
JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 Abel replaced by Seth and his seed, 
 
 383- 
 
 Abraham, Egyptian abbot, consulted 
 by Germanus and Cassian, 186; 
 quoted from, 188; works miracu- 
 lous cures, 447; his Conference 
 on mortification, 531 sq. 
 
 Accidie, Acedia, 233, 266 sq., 339, 
 343-4, 533; akin to dejection, 
 266, 342, 533; injures the soul, 
 267 sq.; description of, 267 sq., 
 533; how to be cured, 268 sq., 
 275, 342 sq., 350, 533; of two 
 kinds, 344. 
 
 Adam called irpuTbnlaoTos 281; an ex- 
 ample of sin, 340; had know- 
 ledge by divine inspiration, 383; 
 how tempted and fell, 379; sac- 
 rificed his liberty, 526; moral 
 results of his transgression, 519 
 sq.; not a complete figure of 
 Christ, 607-8; first restored in 
 the Second, 340. 
 
 Alleluia, ending a psalm, 207, 210. 
 
 Alms, a duty and privilege, 503. 
 
 Altar reproached by Nestorius' pre- 
 sence, 596. 
 
 Ambidextrous, applied spiritually, 
 
 356-7- 
 
 Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, his teach- 
 ing on the Incarnation, 617. 
 
 Ammon organised monasticism in 
 Lower Egypt, 186. 
 
 Ananias and Sapphira, 252, 256, 257, 
 482, 516. 
 
 Anastasius, Nestorius' chaplain, 190, 
 556; follower of Theodore of 
 Mopsuestia, 556; preaches 
 against Theotokos, 190, 556; 
 originates Nestorianism, 190, 
 549. 556. 
 
 Anchorites in Egypt, 184, 293, 319, 
 477, 480 sq., 523; visited by 
 Cassian and Germanus, 184; 
 originated by St. Antony and 
 St. Paul, and why so called, 481 ; 
 their aim, 185, 293, 319, 477, 
 484, 490, 492; their humility 
 and patience, 484, 490; pre- 
 ferred by Cassian, 185, 480, 
 523; have a grander life than 
 the Coenobites, 293, 481, 490, 
 523; how they are trained, 480, 
 490, 523; the best districts for 
 them, 523. 
 
 Andronicus, abbot, cured of a Pos- 
 session, 373. 
 
 Angelic powers created by God, 377, 
 381; His purpose in creating, 
 377; two to each person, 381. 
 
 Anger, its evils, 257, 342, 367, 
 451 sq., 459, 485; its better 
 side, 258; examples against, 
 259; against ourselves is valu- 
 able, 260; as spoken of God, 
 258; its implacable form as re- 
 venge, 260, 261; cured by recon- 
 ciliation, 261, 386, 452, 457, 
 459; as cured by the Gospel, 
 263, 350, 386; "with excuse" 
 considered, 363, 452; of three 
 kinds, 344; destroys friendship, 
 452, 453, 459; to be repressed, 
 459, 485; to be rooted out by a 
 monk, 257 sq., 339, 343, 350, 
 452. 
 
 Anger's Synopsis, 304. 
 
 Anthropomorphic language account- 
 ed for, 258-9. 
 
 Anthropomorphites and their teach- 
 ing, 187, 188, 258, 401, 403; 
 the heresy and controversy, 319, 
 401 sq. 
 
 Antidosis, its definition, 375. 
 
 Antioch, creed of, 592, 593, 596; 
 used against Nestorius, 594-6. 
 
 Antiphona, 205, 208, 217. 
 
 Antiphonal singing, 205, 217. 
 
 Antony, hermit in the Thebaid, 186, 
 234, 308, 310; founder of mon- 
 asticism, 234, 243, 481; his 
 sayings to the monks, 234; his 
 fastings, 243; how he became 
 an ascetic, 320; bequeathed his 
 sheepskin to Athanasius, 203; 
 originated the anchorites, 481; 
 his opinion on prayer and its 
 conditions, 398; and on self- 
 help for a monk, 536; was 
 tempted by the devils, 382. 
 
 Apollinarians, 551-2; taught that 
 Jesus had no human soul, 552. 
 
 Apollonius, Apollos, abbot in the 
 Thebaid, 314, 335. 
 
 Appear, its Scriptural force, 559. 
 
 Arcadius, Bishop in Gaul, 192. 
 
 Archebius, anchorite, Bishop in Egypt, 
 
 184, 245, 246, 371, 415; assists 
 
 Cassian, 184, 246, 415; gives 
 
 his cell to Cassian, and builds 
 
 627 
 
 others, 186, 246; earned money 
 to clear off his mother's debts, 
 246; was Bishop of Panephysis, 
 
 . 415. 
 
 Arians and Arianism, 551, 552, 593. 
 
 Ascension of Christ by His own 
 power, 616, 617. 
 
 Ash-Wednesday, 514. 
 
 Athanasius quoted, 401; teaches the 
 Incarnation, 619. 
 
 Athlete in Christ, 237 sq., 263. 
 
 Augustine, Bishop of Hippo Regius, 
 teaches the Incarnation, 618; 
 developed predestinarianism, 
 190-3; his teaching one-sided, 
 193; how related to Pelagian- 
 ism, 190, 191; not valued by 
 Cassian, 191, 618; restored Le- 
 porius, 552-5; date of his death, 
 192. 
 
 Augustinianism, 190-3. 
 
 Aurelian of Aries, his rule, 224. 
 
 Auxerre, Council of, 401. 
 
 Auxonius, Bishop in Gaul, 192. 
 
 Avarice a principal fault, 339. 
 
 Babel and the confusion of tongues, 
 
 33.5- 
 Bad things, discussed, 352 sq 
 Baptism, the grace of, 527. 
 Barber, Abbot Macarius' story of, 
 
 .537- 
 
 Basil, Bishop of Csesarea, 254; aided 
 monasticism, 200, 212; his rule, 
 213, 217, 219, 224, 274; a say- 
 ing of his, 254. 
 
 Basilisk said to be from the Ibis' 
 egg, 607. 
 
 Bees, used in illustration, 607. 
 
 Benedict of Nursia, organiser of mon- 
 astic system, 189, 194, 243; his 
 rule, 194, 205, 209, 215, 216, 
 218, 219, 220, 221, 222, 224, 
 225, 232, 243, 274, 405, 482. 
 
 Bethlehem, monastery at, 184, 185, 
 230; received Cassian and Ger- 
 manus, 185. 
 
 Bibliotheca Maxima Patrum, 553. 
 
 Bingham quoted, 217,330, 482, 503. 
 
 Birth, the new, through the font, 
 593 sq., 600. 
 
 Bishops, why disliked by the Egyp- 
 tian monks, 401. 
 
 Blessed oil, 244. 
 
 Braga, Council of, 401. 
 
628 
 
 JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 Bright quoted, 190, 191, 193, 207, 
 
 212,554. ' 
 Burial by embalming, 447. 
 Butler, on the Coptic churches, 186, 
 
 187. 
 
 Csesarius, Bishop of Aries, 193; his 
 
 rule, 206, 215, 224. 
 Cain, the seed of, 382 sq.; called 
 
 "the Daughters of men," 3S3. 
 Calamus, desert in Egypt, 274, 321, 
 
 37i. 533- 
 Canaanites represent classes of sins, 
 
 347. 35o. 
 
 Canonical prayers, 205, 208, 210. 
 
 Cases of conscience, 185. 
 
 Cassian, called John and Afer, 1S3, 
 184, 245; probably from Gaul, 
 183, 184, 186, 188; his own 
 account of his country, 183, 
 532; his parentage and rela- 
 tions, 184; connected with Mar- 
 seilles, 183; well educated in 
 youth, 183, 184; ordained by 
 John Chrysostom, 184, 188, 594, 
 620; travelled with his friend 
 Germanus, 184, 185, 295, 450, 
 460, 479; was long in Egypt, 
 
 183, 186, 413, 415; attached to 
 the monastery at Bethlehem, 
 
 184, 416, 460; visited the Egyp- 
 tian anchorites, 184, 319, 413, 
 415, 460 sq., 479; had prom- 
 ised to return to Bethlehem, 
 1S5, 416, 460 sq.; wished to 
 stay longer in Egypt, 673; made 
 Joseph his adviser, 185,460 sq.; 
 longed for the anchorite life, 
 
 185, 186, 416, 480 ; his duty to 
 return to Bethlehem, 186, 532, 
 539; his visits to Egypt uncer- 
 tain, 1S6, 187; was ordained at 
 Constantinople, 188, 620; put in 
 charge of the Cathedral treasury, 
 188; supported S. Chrysostom, 
 188, 619, 620 ; was sent as en- 
 voy to Rome and made priest 
 there, 188; settled at Marseilles, 
 18S, 189; wrote at Marseilles, 
 188, 189; influenced Western 
 monasticism, 189; his dates, 184, 
 188, 189, 193; his relation to 
 Pelagianism, 193; his Pelagian 
 writings, 192, 193; his biblio- 
 graphy, 193 sq.; his writings ex- 
 purgated, 194; his writings 
 against Nestorius, 195, 549 sq.; 
 his visit and conference with 
 Paphnutius, 187, 319 sq.; his 
 visit and conference with Abbot 
 Daniel, 330 sq.; how he came 
 to write the Institutes and Con- 
 ferences, 413; and on the In- 
 carnation, 430, 549; uses doubt- 
 ful language in theology, 564; 
 misinterprets, 592. 
 
 Cassiodorus organised monasteries, 
 194; his rule, 215; quoted, 184. 
 
 Castor, Bishop of Apta Julia, 189, 
 199; asked Cassian to write 
 upon the Institutes, 199, 234, 
 293> 3S". 413; taught psalm- 
 
 singing, 205; founded a monas- 
 tery and died, 205, 293. 
 
 Casuistry, cases of, 351 sq., 460 sq., 
 468-9, 519 sq. 
 
 Catechumens, Mass of, 278, 279. 
 
 Catholic rule, the, 202. 
 
 Cave of the Nativity, 230. 
 
 Celestine, Bishop of Rome, 190; ap- 
 pealed to from Gaul, 192; his 
 death, 193. 
 
 Cells, monastic, and their furniture, 
 
 3S9> 497- 
 
 Cenodoxia, or vainglory, 339. 
 
 Chaeremon, aged anchorite in Egypt, 
 184, 415, 416; received Cassian 
 and Germanus, 184, 416; de- 
 livered three discourses, 185, 
 192,415; his teaching criticised, 
 192; his bodily appearance and 
 condition, 416; first Conference 
 onPerfection, 413, 416 sq.; third 
 Conference on The Protection of 
 God, 422 sq. 
 
 Chastity discoursed upon, 185, 235, 
 .236, 361 sq., 422 sq., 437, 518; 
 that of the philosophers often im- 
 aginary, 424; it ought not to be 
 tested, 495. 
 
 Cheek offered to the smiter, 457. 
 
 Cherubim, what they mean, 440. 
 
 Christ, not a mere man, 190, 552 sq. ; 
 always was and is God, 562 sq.; 
 called God, 563, 564, 577, 582 
 sq., 598, 606; called God in 
 prophecy, 557, 558, 559, 578; 
 called God by S. Paul, 559, 
 560, 564, 565, 567; given divine 
 titles, 560, 562, 564, 566, 567, 
 577, 582, 583, 585, 606; giver 
 of divine grace, 561, 582; state- 
 ment of His nature and titles, 
 562, 564, 577, 582, 606; the 
 Wisdom of God and the Power 
 of God, 568, 598; born of a 
 Virgin, 552 sq. ; has two natures 
 and one Person, 565 sq.; alone 
 sinless, 340 sq., 552; the hypo- 
 static union in Christ, 575. 602; 
 the Communication of Properties, 
 575* 577-9. 5 8 4, 598, 600, 601; 
 One Person in Christ, 555 sq.; 
 not God through His merits, 553 
 sq., 561 sq., 581-3, 594, 508; 
 not made God at baptism, 553, 
 554, 561, 562, 598, 616; orat the 
 resurrection, 553, 554, 562, 599; 
 was before His birth, 557 sq., 
 573 sq., 587, 595, 600, 601, 
 606; existed from all eternity, 
 573 sq., 601, 606; prayed to 
 by name, 604; worshipped as 
 God and in God 609; had His 
 own glory, 616; called by 
 Nestorius, Theodochos, 581, 
 582, 608; had power in Him- 
 self, 613-5; now tempted as 
 the Second Adam, 340 sq., 
 610; how unique in nature and 
 temptation, 340-1; the order of 
 His temptations, 341; His sacri- 
 ficial death, 213, 340; how filled 
 with the Spirit, 421, 554, 557, 
 
 613; how different from the 
 saints, 582, 587, 590, 598; not 
 a bodily phantasm at birth, 583, 
 584, 590, 594; or like a molten 
 image, 558, 581, 590, 594, 60S 
 sq.; misrepresented by Ebion, 
 552; by Nestorianism, 190, 421, 
 551 sq. ; by Photinianism, 553, 
 554; how our Saviour, 580; a 
 sacrifice and an example, 552; 
 His name effective in miracles, 
 447; His doctrine complete, 
 552; omnipotence in His birth, 
 606, 608; never a secret God, 
 609, 617; descended into hell, 
 213,214; had a genealogy, 612; 
 His twofold parentage, 61 1-2; 
 was more than Adam, 607-8; 
 born yet eternal, 574, 604, 606; 
 foreshown in prophecy, 558, 
 578, 579. .583; acknowledged 
 by the devil, 610; His Incarna- 
 tion taught by S. John, 584, 587; 
 His teaching about Himself, 5S6, 
 587; the teaching of His resur- 
 rection, 585, 600; the teaching 
 of the Creed, 594-5; account 
 and teaching of His baptism, 
 572; the ascension by His own 
 power, 616-7; His yoke easy 
 and burden light, 541-3; draws 
 by love, 505; not two Christs, 
 598-9, 602. 
 
 Christian Remembrancer quoted, 193. 
 
 Christmas, its observance, 401. 
 
 Christotocos, why advocated by Nes- 
 torius, 556, 557, 620. 
 
 Chrysostom quoted, 401, 592. 
 
 Church Quarterly Review, 581. 
 
 Clement of Alexandria, 218, 488. 
 
 Coenobite monks, 185, 206, 480; 
 practise obedience and subjec- 
 tion, 185, 206, 480; their aim 
 and perfection, 492; their origin, 
 480; their institutes, 205 sq., 
 480; inferior to the Anchorites, 
 293, 490 sq. ; their renunciations, 
 4S0; their customs as to using 
 Scripture, 206. 
 
 Ccenobium, like the primitive church, 
 480; how different from a mon- 
 astery, 483; its training, 49c; 
 less strict than the anchorite 
 monastery, 490—2; its conven- 
 iences, 491 sq.; its distractions, 
 492; what if one leaves it, 
 
 493-4- 
 
 Collect, Collecta, 218. 
 
 Commentators to be avoided, 245. 
 
 Communication of Properties, its 
 definition, 575; as in Christ, 
 575-S0, 5S4, 598, 601-2. 
 
 Communion, Holy, on Saturday and 
 Sunday, 486; daily, 373, 486; 
 weekly, 531; once a year by- 
 some monks, 531 ; is the Lord's, 
 218; how often to be received, 
 373. 53 1 '. ^ to be refused to 
 possessed, 372-3. 
 
 Compline service, 215. 
 
 Concealments by the saints, 469, 470. 
 
 Conception of Christ, 557, 562. 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 629 
 
 Confession, part of monastic training, 
 221, 312 sq., 500; destroys Sa- 
 tanic tyranny, 312-3; to be re- 
 ceived in sympathy, 313-5; as a 
 means of perfection, 455, 499 
 sq.; its seal, 313-4. 
 
 Conscience, as our guide, 511; gives 
 surest proof of pardon, 49S. 
 
 Contrition by remembrance of sin, 
 499, 501. 
 
 Conviction of sin, of different kinds, 
 396; leads to fervent prayer, 
 396, 397; often to tears, 397. 
 
 Cook, to the monks by turns, 225; or 
 permanent, 225-6 
 
 Cords of the monk, 203. 
 
 Counting on the fingers, its spiritual 
 meaning, 544. 
 
 Covetousness, arguments against, 248 
 sq., 342 sq.; as a vice, yet 
 made useful, 249; its root, 250, 
 344; its effects upon a monk, 
 250 sq.; treated as a sin, 252, 
 342; how to be conquered, 255; 
 found in complete poverty, 255; 
 examples of, 255-6; three kinds 
 of, 344. _ 
 
 Creed, has divine and human author- 
 ity, 593; is witness to the truth, 
 593-6, 602; to be believed as a 
 whole, 600-1. 
 
 Creeds, enriched from Canons, 592; 
 in singular or plural, 592-3; that 
 of Antioch, 592, 593, 596, 601. 
 
 Cross, sign of, 382,447; preached by 
 S. Paul, 567; an offence to the 
 world, 567, 598. 
 
 Curzon quoted, 185. 
 
 Cyclinnius, perhaps Bishop of Frejus, 
 . 552. 
 
 Cyril of Alexandria quoted, 190, 401. 
 
 Dalila the Philistine, 465. 
 
 Daniel, Egyptian priest, visited Cas- 
 sian and Germanus, 187, 330. 
 
 David, as an example of self-restraint, 
 259, 260. 
 
 " Daughters of men," how related to 
 the fallen angels, 3S2 sq. 
 
 Dead man raised to life, 446-7; the 
 bodies embalmed, 447. 
 
 Decanus, the dean in a monastery, 
 221. 
 
 Dejection, as hurting the soul, 264 
 s q-> 339' 342, 343; whence and 
 how it comes, 265, 342; how 
 healed, 264 sq. 350; when use- 
 ful, 266; akin to Accidie, 266, 
 343; of two kinds, 344; as 
 despair of salvation, 265. 
 
 Demoniacs, as possessed, 366. 
 
 Deposition of a late abbot, celebrated, 
 185, 489. 
 
 Descent into hell, with release to 
 some, 213-4. 
 
 Desert, its advantages, 491. 
 
 Devils, how united to the human 
 soul, 366, 371, 374; subject to 
 man's power, 382; have power 
 over the possessed, 366, 371, 
 374, 382; how they know men's 
 thoughts, 367, 371, 389; tempt 
 
 by suggestion, 367-9, 453, 538- 
 9; their modes of attack, 368, 
 37i> 374, 3 82 . 4535 various in 
 rank and aims, 368, 374 sq. 381, 
 538; have struggles in tempting 
 and overcoming, 369, 382; limited 
 by divine permission, 370, 382; 
 fear Christ, 613; are driven out, 
 445, 487; fight with men, 
 449; sow disputes, 453; pro- 
 claim false doctrine, 374; their 
 fall, 378-9; invisible in the air, 
 379; fight with each other, 380; 
 why called powers, 380. 
 
 Diaconate, its duties, 278. 
 
 Diaconia, its meaning, 483, 503. 
 
 Diogenes, story about, 424. 
 
 Diolcos, monasteries at, 246, 479; 
 visited by Cassian, 246. 
 
 Discipline for obedience, 211. 
 
 Discretion, discoursed upon, 187, 308 
 sq. ; necessary to a monk, 308 
 sq.; examples of its absence, 309 
 sq.; how to be gained, 309; its 
 Scripture testimony, 311, 316. 
 
 Dismissal of the Catechumens, 279. 
 
 " Dissolves Jesus," criticism upon, 
 
 ..587-. 
 Divine gifts, discoursed upon, 185, 
 
 445 sq.; threefold system of, 
 
 445; powers of healing, 446-7; 
 
 chief is humility, and casting out 
 
 personal faults, 448. 
 Divine government, questions upon, 
 
 445- 
 Divinity of Christ, misrepresented by 
 
 heresy, 551 sq. ; is not a later 
 
 addition, 553 sq., 561. 
 Dorner quoted, 564. 
 Dove descended on. Christ, 610. 
 Duchesne quoted, 401. 
 Duties in the monastery divided, 224. 
 
 Easter, time announced from Alex- 
 andria, 401; preceded by Lent, 
 
 513- 
 
 Easter and Whitsuntide season, 207, 
 212,447; called Quinquagesima, 
 207, 212, 447, 503; its customs, 
 207, 212. 
 
 Easter-Eve, 513. 
 
 Eating only at meals, 224. 
 
 Ebion, speculations as to his per- 
 sonality, 551; a humanitarian, 
 . 551, 588. 
 
 Ebionites, their teaching about Christ, 
 551,588. 
 
 Economy, the divine, 588. 
 
 Envy, a fault hard to cure, 488. 
 
 Ephesus, Council of, 549. 
 
 Epiphanius, Bishop of Salamis, pro- 
 moted monasticism, 212; quoted, 
 . 274, 401, 488, 551. 
 
 Epiphany, account of the festival, 
 401. 
 
 Eucherius, Bishop of Lyons, 1S9, 
 413, 479; epitomised Cassian's 
 Institutes, 193; received the 
 dedication of Seven Confer- 
 ences, 477, 479. 
 
 Eunomians, 446, 551; perhaps sepa- 
 rated the Persons of the Trin- 
 
 ity, 552; the first Anomoeons, 
 
 552. 
 Eunuchs, their lukewarmness, 336, 
 Euprepius, his monastery at Antioch, 
 
 5?2- 
 Eusebius, Bishop of Csesarea, quoted, 
 
 207, 302, 488, 515. 
 Eusebius, Bishop of Dorylseum, 592. 
 Eutychianism approached by Cassian, 
 
 564- 
 Evagrius quoted, 556. 
 Eve suffered by persuading Adam, 
 
 379- 
 Evening Service in the monastery, 
 
 _ 445> 46i- 
 
 Evil has no power over the unwill- 
 ing) 353> 3^5; was not created, 
 354> 377; as equivalent to afflic- 
 tion, 354. _ 
 
 Excommunication in a monastery, 
 211. 
 
 Extremes meet, 316. 
 
 Faith, itself from God, 327; leads to 
 shun sin, 417; does not limit 
 divine grace, 433. 
 
 Fall, its moral results, 519 sq. 
 
 Fast, two days in the week, 21S, 
 241, 242, 243; that of Easter 
 and Pentecost relaxed, 186, 212, 
 217, 507, 508 sq.; not on the 
 Sabbath (Saturday), 217, 317, 
 513; a canonical observance, 
 236, 512; may be relaxed by 
 authority, 242-3, 509, 51 1-2; 
 Easter fast announced by Festal 
 letters, 401; the Lenten fast, 
 
 513- 
 
 Fasting, not alike to all, 235, 317, 
 508 sq.; rules for, 236 sq., 306, 
 316 sq., 508 sq.; canonical ob- 
 servance, 236, 512; a spiritual 
 exercise, 241-2, 297, 508 sq.: 
 is sparing and voluntary, 243, 
 297, 317, 318, 508 sq.; only an 
 aid to perfection, 298 sq., 306, 
 316, 317, 508, 510, 512; when 
 harmful, 306, 316, 508, 510; 
 is not good in itself, 508, 509; 
 its value, 510 sq.; not to be 
 done in anger, 457; not always 
 done by the disciples, 510, 
 
 5ii- 
 Faults, overcome by three thoughts, 
 416; their nature and cure, 435, 
 493; how cured even in solitude, 
 
 494-5- 
 Fear, an imperfect motive, 419; the 
 
 outcome of greatest love, 420; 
 
 leads to perfection, 421, 422. 
 Feeling, sudden changes of, 331; of 
 
 fear and hope, how imperfect, 
 
 419. 
 Feet-washing in the monastery, 225. 
 " Festal letters " announcing Easter, 
 
 401, 402. 
 Filtanius, Bishop in Gaul, 192. 
 Flesh, used with different meanings, 
 
 333; its lust, 333 sq.; as affected 
 
 by freewill, 334 sq.; and spirit, 
 
 332 sq. 
 Fleury quoted, 184, 552. 
 
630 
 
 JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 Florentius, Bishop of Hippo Diar- 
 rhytus, 555. 
 
 Food, dried, 225, 226, 375; raw, 225, 
 226; abstinence from, 235 sq., 
 306. 316 sq.; canonical allow- 
 ance to monks, 318,491; monk- 
 ish feast described, 375, 491; 
 quantity used is made a measure 
 of time, 491. 
 
 Fornication, 339 sq., 343, 345, 367, 
 424,449, 506; remedies for, 339 
 
 s q-> 343. 344. 35°; thre e sorts 
 of the sin, 344, 424; in thought, 
 494. 
 
 Francis de Sales quoted, 541. 
 
 Freewill, in relation to divine grace, 
 192, 193, 325 sq., 365, 424, 426 
 sq.; the difficulty stated, 329, 
 426; as between Flesh and 
 Spirit, 334 sq., 365; given by 
 God as part of human nature, 
 428 sq.; not sufficient for salva- 
 tion, 434; its weakness, 427. 
 
 Freewill offerings, 513, 515. 
 
 Friendship, Conference upon, 450 sq.; 
 of different kinds, 450; how and 
 when indissoluble, 450-2; only 
 among the perfect, 451; some 
 cannot last, 460. 
 
 Frontinius, ascetic, retired to Nitria, 
 186. 
 
 Games, the Grecian, may teach spiri- 
 tual rules, 237-9. 
 
 Gehazi, an example of covetousness, 
 256, 257. 
 
 Gennadius quoted, 183, 184, 193, 
 194. 
 
 Germanus, friend and fellow-traveller 
 of Cassian, 184, 295, 300; spiri- 
 tual brother to Ca6sian, 185; in 
 monastery at Bethlehem, 184; 
 visited the Egyptian anchorites, 
 184-5; ordained at Constanti- 
 nople, 188; sent with Cassian to 
 Rome, 188; discusses Freewill 
 and Grace with Paphnutius, 
 325 sq.; Eight principal faults 
 with Serapion, 339 sq.; Incon- 
 stancy of mind and Spiritual 
 wickedness with Serenus, 361 sq. 
 
 Girdle, the mark of a monk, 201; 
 spiritually understood, 204-5. 
 
 Gladiator, as a Christian type, 345-6. 
 
 Gloria Patri used, 208, 209. 
 
 Gluttony, 317, 339 sq., 367; forbid- 
 den to the monks, 234 sq.; rem- 
 edies for, 239 sq., 340 sq., 348, 
 350; of three kinds, 343; repre- 
 sented by the Egyptians, 348; 
 how a daily debtor, 349, 350,367. 
 
 Goal, valuable to have one fixed, 300; 
 that the soul cleave to God, 298; 
 goal and aim of life, 296 sq.; of 
 a monk discoursed upon, 187. 
 
 God, anthropologically spoken of, 
 258; His grace and help stated, 
 283 sq., 365, 423 sq.; contem- 
 plation of, how gained, 302; au- 
 thor and finisher of grace, 325 
 sq.; faith and virtues from Him, 
 327 sq., 331, 377. 423 sq., 445; 
 
 begins, continues, and ends, 
 32S-9 331, 365; why allows 
 temptations, 331-2, 430; our 
 desertion by, 332; not unjust or 
 careless, 352 sq. ; a moral gov- 
 ernor, 351 sq.; did not create 
 evil, 354, 377; alone unchange- 
 able, 360, 582; alone incorpo- 
 real, 366; universal ruler for 
 good, 373, 385; made everything 
 perfect, 385; as "taken away 
 from me," 402; His help essen- 
 tial to us, 423 sq.; His daily 
 providence, 425, 433; His in- 
 scrutable providence, 433, 434, 
 445; as " born of awoman," de- 
 nied by Nestorius, 549, 560, 
 561, 568, 569; the Word of, 
 truly Incarnate, 553-4, 560-1, 
 568 sq., 604; not God but God- 
 head united to the manhood, 
 557. 583. 585 sq-; born in hu- 
 man form, 558, 561, 563, 569, 
 577, 582; being " pierced," 
 said in prophecy, 558; name 
 given to Christ, 557 sq., 563-4, 
 577; as applied to men, 563; 
 to Him nothing impossible, 604; 
 as seen face to face, 610; cruci- 
 fied in the Lord of Glory, 569; 
 Son of, denied by the Jews, 
 579; yet true of Christ, 582. 
 Godhead, fulness of, in Christ, 583; 
 united to the manhood in Christ, 
 
 557. 583 s q- 
 
 Good, the highest unreached, 521 
 sq.; obtained from temptation, 
 542; "good things " discussed, 
 352 sq. 
 
 Goodness, human compared with the 
 divine, 521. 
 
 Gore quoted, 330. 
 
 Goulbourn quoted, 541. 
 
 Grace of God in our perfection, 192, 
 283 sq., 331, 423, 582; as al- 
 lowing for freewill, 325 sq.; 
 forsakes us for a time and pur- 
 pose, 332; how related to hea- 
 then virtues, 424; essential to us, 
 423 sq. ; precedes and follows 
 our goodwill, 427-8; never 
 against human effort, 430; gives 
 many calls, 432; transcends all 
 human faith, 423; supports 
 where law condemns, 505; con- 
 trasted with law, 505, 515 sq., 
 527; frees saints from the law of 
 sin, 527, 529; gives easy for- 
 giveness, 527; its gift innate in 
 Christ as God, 560-1; as repre- 
 sented in Pelagianism, 190 sq. 
 
 Gregory, Naz., Bishop of Constanti- 
 nople, 620; teaching on the In- 
 carnation, 619; quoted, 583. 
 
 Gregory, Bishop of Rome, quoted, 
 218, 258, 279, 483. 
 
 Gyrovagi, monks spoken of by S. 
 Benedict, 482, 483. 
 
 Hahn quoted, 592. 
 Hall quoted, 234. 
 Hammond (Lit.) quoted, 483. 
 
 Healing, gifts of, 445, 446. 
 
 Heathen virtues and God's grace, 
 424. 
 
 Hefele quoted, 556. 
 
 Helladius, Bishop, friend of Cassian, 
 189, 293, 387, 413, 477; see 
 unknown, 293; induced Cassian 
 to write his Conferences, 413, 
 
 Heresies, a list of, 551-2; propagate 
 each other, 552, 555, 580, 581, 
 599, 600; new condemned in 
 the old, 556; pervert the Scrip- 
 tures, 614, 616. 
 
 Hermas Pastor, 382. 
 
 Hermiani, 302. 
 
 Heron, aged anchorite, attempted 
 suicide, 310. 
 
 Hesycas, pupil of S. Jerome, intro- 
 duced monaslicism into Cyprus, 
 212. 
 
 Hezekiah, an example of vainglory, 
 277. 
 
 Hilarian introduced monasticism into 
 Palestine, 212. 
 
 Hilary of Poictiers, 188, 617; con- 
 fessor for the faith and banished, 
 617; his teaching on the Incar- 
 nation, 617. 
 
 Hilary, layman, correspondent of 
 S. Augustine, 191, 192. 
 
 Hippolytus quoted, 488. 
 
 Holy Communion, when celebrated, 
 213. 
 
 Holy Ghost, called a creature by 
 Macedonius, 552; not in Christ 
 as in the saints, 582; how re- 
 lated to Christ's conception, 613; 
 does not prevent the agency of 
 the Son, 613-5. 
 
 Homo, its theological meaning, 554, 
 557. 598. 601, 602. 
 
 Homo dominicus, a term now disused, 
 383, 421, 602. 
 
 Honoratus, Bishop of Aries, 189, 190, 
 191, 413; received dedication of 
 seven Conferences from Cassian, 
 
 477- 
 
 Honorius of Autun, 183. 
 
 Hood of the Egyptian monk, 202. 
 
 Hooker quoted, 209, 575, 577. 
 
 Hope, an imperfect motive, 419. 
 
 Hort quoted, 592. 
 
 Hours of prayer, authorities for, 214; 
 the third, 205, 212, 213, 214; 
 the sixth, 205, 213, 214; the 
 ninth, 205, 213, 214; daily, 205, 
 212 sq.; the seven canonical, 
 214, 215. 
 
 Humanitarianismof Ebion, 551, 552; 
 of Nestorianism, 580-1, 608-9. 
 
 Humility, among the monks, 225 sq., 
 229, 331; its signs, 232, 497; a 
 cure for pride, 279, 282, 287, 
 290, 331, 457; mock humility, 
 484; true humility, 484, 497-8. 
 
 Hydra, the tale, 551; a symbol of 
 heresy, 551. 
 
 Hypostasis, its theological use, 576. 
 
 Hypostatic union in Christ, 575, 576, 
 . 602. 
 
 Idleness full of danger, 273, 536. 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 631 
 
 Image of God restored in Christ, 607, 
 608. 
 
 Impossible commands, if given to a 
 monk, 221, 227. 
 
 Impossibilities not to be mentioned re- 
 garding God, 604, 606. 
 
 Impure cannot give or receive spiri- 
 tual knowledge, 442; may have 
 knowledge beyond the saints, 
 442, 443; has not true know- 
 ledge, 443. 
 
 Incarnation, the, Cassian's writings 
 upon, 549 sq.; statement of, 
 555 sq., 564, 568 sq., 573 sq., 
 577 sq.; S. John's teaching 
 upon, 584; the mystery implies 
 the Divinity, 588, 606; no ques- 
 tion of time, 604, 606; no ques- 
 tion of possibility or impossi- 
 bility, 604, 606; confessed by 
 Martha, Peter, and Thomas, 
 569 sq. ; testimonies in the 
 church, 617 sq. 
 
 Inconsistency of mind and spiritual 
 wickedness, 187, 361 sq. 
 
 Indifferent things, what, 352 sq. 
 
 Indulgences to monks, 218, 242. 
 
 Inferiors may see a truth and offer a 
 good suggestion, 454. 
 
 Intention qualifies an action, 463. 
 
 Intercession, what, 391. 
 
 Irenseus quoted, 488, 515. 
 
 Isaac, Egyptian abbot, 187, 387; dis- 
 ciple of S. Antony, 387; his 
 two Conferences on prayer, 387 
 sq., 401 sq. 
 
 Isidore of Seville, his rule, 215, 220, 
 221. 
 
 Isidore, presbyter in Egypt, 486, 487. 
 
 Israel, interpretation of the word, 
 293. 35°. 6 °9- 
 
 Jacob, deceiver yet given the blessing, 
 463; wrestled with God, 609. 
 
 Jerome, his dates, 184; at Bethlehem 
 monastery, 184; writer and trans- 
 lator, 200; visited the Egyptian 
 monks, 186; much respected by 
 Cassian, 184; teaches the Incar- 
 nation, 618; quoted, 212, 218, 
 221, 222, 226, 243, 258, 274, 
 3°4> 339> 468, 481, 544, 574, 
 604, 609. 
 
 Joash, an example of pride, 2S6. 
 
 Job, his victory, 356; Job's patience 
 no benefit to the devil, 355. 
 
 John, abbot of Thmuis, 436, 437. 
 
 John Chrysostom, Bishop of Con- 
 stantinople, came from Antioch, 
 620; teacher of the Incarnation, 
 619,620; ordained Cassian, 184, 
 188; quoted, 184. 
 
 John, Egyptian abbot, of" great hu- 
 mility, 185, 243, 246,' 247, 437, 
 489, 490, 496; became a Coeno- 
 bite for austerity, 185, 490; dis- 
 coursed upon the aim of the 
 coenobite and hermit, 185, 489 
 sq.; had charge of the alms, 
 5°3- 
 
 John of Lycopolis, 188, 226, 306, 
 
 545- 
 
 I John iv. 2, 3, criticism upon, 5S7. 
 
 Joseph, anchorite in Egypt, 184, 185, 
 416, 449, 450 ; received Cas- 
 sian and Germanus, 184, 416, 
 450 ; had been primarius of 
 Thmuis, 185, 450 ; could speak 
 in Greek, 450; first Conference 
 on Friendship, 450 sq.; second 
 Conference on making promises, 
 460 sq. 
 
 Jovinianus, a holy brother, friend of 
 Cassian, 477. 
 
 Judas, an example of covetousness, 
 255, 256, 257, 472 ; had no 
 merit in our salvation, 335, 463, 
 . 472- 
 
 Julius Africanus quoted, 383. 
 
 Justin Martyr quoted, 230. 
 
 Juvenal quoted, 544. 
 
 Kindness, even to the idle and care- 
 less, 271; also to the erring, 
 272. 
 
 Kindred, should be far from monks, 
 534, 535, 539; should not pay 
 for monks' wants, 535, 536; 
 should be welcomed when visit- 
 ing, 540. 
 
 Kneeling, when forbidden, 212, 507; 
 custom considered, 507. 
 
 Knowledge of the religious, practical 
 and contemplative, 435 sq.; 
 practical twofold, 435, 436, 438; 
 system of true knowledge, 439. 
 
 Labbe quoted, 553. 
 
 Labour, among the monks, 210 sq., 
 
 268 sq.; joined with prayer, 211, 
 
 213, 268; prevents many faults, 
 
 271. 
 Laodicea, Council of T 213, 217. 
 Lateness, penance for, 216. 
 Lauds, service of, 215, 216. 
 Laziness, as found in a monastery, 
 
 273 sq. 
 Leisure, its temptations, 269, 273. 
 Lent, its fast, the tithe of the year, 
 
 513; very differently counted, 
 
 513. sh, 515; onl Y a . sma11 
 
 tithe, 515; was not in primitive 
 times, 515. 
 
 Leo, Bishop of Rome, friend of Cas- 
 sian, 188, 549; induced Cassian 
 to write on the Incarnation, 
 549; had been archdeacon, 190; 
 quoted, 554. 
 
 Leontius, Bishop, 189, 192, 293, 387, 
 592; had dedication of Cassian's 
 Conferences, 293, 413, 477. 
 
 Leontius, a " brother " at Marseilles, 
 189, 477. 
 
 Leporius of Treves, heretic, his his- 
 tory. . 55 2 i 553; propagated 
 Pelagianism, 190, 552, 553, 
 616; combined it with Nestori- 
 anism, 552, 616; was recovered 
 by S. Augustine, 552, 553, 554; 
 recanted his Pelagianism, 553 
 sq.; his letters of recantation, 
 
 .552, 553, 554, 555- 
 Lerins, monastery, 188, 1S9; famous 
 in its scholars, 188. 
 
 Lessons in Church, two or three, 
 206; how selected, 207. 
 
 Lies, to be feared, 464, 465; admit 
 of casuistry, 465; Scripture ex- 
 amples considered, 465-7; can 
 we be driven into them, 468; 
 examples of dissembling and 
 hiding, 469, 470. 
 
 Life, uprightness of, more than mira- 
 cles, 449. 
 
 Lightfoot quoted, 394. 
 
 Locust, illustrative of Christ's birth, 
 607. 
 
 Lord's Prayer and its Petitions, 393 sq. 
 
 Love, to guide even in reproofs, 272; 
 the divine, will not end, 299; 
 how to attain its height, 417, 
 452; protection against sin, 417. 
 418; perfects God's image and 
 likeness, 418, 452; perfected in 
 prayer for our enemies, 419, 
 452; the bond of true friend- 
 ship, 450 sq.; lost in disputes 
 and angry feelings, 452-3; is 
 God, 454; of different grades, 
 .454- 
 
 Lucifer, turned from archangel to 
 devil, 280-1. 
 
 Lucius, Arian, Bishop of Alexandria, 
 
 483- 
 
 Lumby quoted, 597. 
 
 Lust of the flesh and of the spirit dis- 
 coursed upon, 187. 
 
 Macarius, abbot, his advice to monks, 
 248. 
 
 Macarius of Alexandria, 248, 372, 
 436; was over the guest-house, 
 436; master in perfection, 453. 
 
 Macarius of Upper Egypt, 248, 345, 
 446; story about, 537. 
 
 Macarius, priest of Cellse, 352. 
 
 Macedonians, 551. 
 
 Machetes, anchorite, 243 sq.; his 
 counsels, 244. 
 
 Mafor, the monk's cape, 203. 
 
 Magical arts, 382, 384. 
 
 Man, his aim and perfect bliss, 404: 
 made immortal, 425; was proved 
 by temptations, 430 sq.; strength 
 of will tested, 430; called by 
 grace, 432; goodness not good 
 like God's, 521, 582; his moral 
 inability, 519 sq., 553; under 
 the law of sin, 525 sq., 552, 
 553; not man, but manhood, 
 united to Godhead, 557. 
 
 Manhood and Godhead in Christ, 
 557> 583 sq.; Christ's shown in 
 the New Testament, 584 sq. 
 
 Mansi quoted, 592. 
 
 Manichees and their teaching, 583, 
 584, 588. 
 
 Marcellus o-f Ancyra, master of Pho- 
 tinus, 552. 
 
 Marcionites, errors on the Incarna- 
 tion, 584. 
 
 Marinus, Bishop in Gaul, 192. 
 
 Mark, first Bishop of Alexandria, 206. 
 
 Marriage v. spiritual perfection, 5°5 - 
 7; its teaching upon the Incar- 
 nation, 5S8-9. 
 
632 
 
 JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 Marseilles, its monasteries, 189. 
 
 Martha, her case and Mary's, 298; 
 her confession, 569. 
 
 Martin, Bishop of Tcurs, his influence 
 on monasticism, 189. 
 
 Martyr-relics, 351, 352. 
 
 Mary, Ever-Virgin, 554, 556, 617, 
 618; truly Theotocos, 556, 557, 
 559, 56o; 561, 562, 563, 570, 
 581, 5S3, 595, 596, 597, 604, 
 605, 606, 611, 612, 618, 620; 
 not merely Christotocos, 556, 
 570, 581, 596, 620; strengthened 
 to become Theotocos, 556, 581, 
 604, 606; her part in the Con- 
 ception of Christ, 557, 562, 572, 
 598, 604, 606, 611, 612, 617; 
 bore her Creator, 574; had a 
 Son Eternal, 573 sq., 604, 605, 
 606; had a son greater than her- 
 self, 5745 was °f the same sub- 
 stance with Christ, 605, 606, 
 607. 
 
 Massilians, 191. 
 
 Mats, for sleeping and writing on in 
 the cells, 222, 307, 445, 461. 
 
 Mazices, a tribe met in the Thebaid, 
 310. 
 
 Meals, in fasting, 243. 
 
 Meditation on God, 301. 
 
 Melotes of a monk, 203. 
 
 Memorial and oblation for those at 
 rest, 310. 
 
 Memory should be filled with Scrip- 
 ture and good thoughts, 441. 
 
 Merits, where not allowed, 423. 
 
 Mind, concentrated in prayer, 386, 
 389, 408, 441, 530; in persever- 
 ance, 365, 388; its perfection, 
 363-4; wanders, 362 sq., 388, 
 389, 408 sq., 441, 530; question 
 of its remaining in one condi- 
 tion, 359, 362 sq.; even celes- 
 tial may change, 360. 
 
 Minervius, a "brother" at Mar- 
 seilles, 189, 477. 
 
 Mines, common penalty for confes- 
 sors, 483. 
 
 Miracle of the loaves and fishes, 591, 
 605; not explained how, 591; 
 mystically interpreted, 591. 
 
 Miraculous powers, 445, 446, 447, 
 591; not from human merits, 
 447; less than moral upright- 
 ness, 449. 
 
 Missa, use of word shown, 208, 210, 
 216, 218, 278. 
 
 Monastery, the Egyptian, described, 
 187; adapted to conditions, 204; 
 practice of psalm-singing, 205 
 sq.; honours and precedences 
 within, 205 sq. ; duties within, 
 2iosq.,25i; how different from 
 a Coenobium, 483. 
 
 Monasticism, organised in Lower 
 Egypt, 186, 413; how developed 
 in Gaul, 18S, 189, 199, 413; 
 Western owed much to Cassian, 
 189, 199, 201 sq. ; how de- 
 veloped in the East, 212 sq.; 
 its institutes, 201, 205 sq. ; its 
 austerity and strictness, 205 sq., 
 
 216, 217; introduced into Pales- 
 tine and Cyprus, 212. 
 
 Money-changers, their duties, 304 
 sq., 311. 
 
 Monks, of three kinds in Egypt, 185, 
 479 sq.; perhaps a fourth, 482- 
 3; in the Egyptian deserts, 185, 
 186, 206, 480; as seen when 
 lately visited, 186, 242; their 
 robe, 202, 222; their girdle, 
 201, 204; not usually wearing 
 sackcloth, 202; their hood, 
 tunic, 202; their scapular, 205; 
 their cords, cape, sheepskin, 
 goatskin, staff, 203; their bed, 
 222, 307, 461; no shoes but 
 sandals, 204; their food, 222, 
 224, 242, 316, 317, 318, 343; 
 their meals, 218, 222, 224, 242, 
 312, 318, 343, 375, 422, 489, 
 491; their wardrobe, 222; their 
 cells, 210, 222, 243, 245, 278, 
 3°7> 339, 3 6o » 4i6, 480, 497, 
 533, 535; how best trained, 
 206, 221, 268 sq., 480; trained 
 by work, 227, 232, 268 sq., 484, 
 489; trained in obedience, 206, 
 221, 222,278, 2S8; their duties, 
 251, 343, 489; indulged on 
 Saturday, Sunday, and holidays, 
 21S, 375, 491; their absolute 
 renunciation, 219 sq., 248 sq., 
 343> 535; did not endow the 
 monastery with their money, 
 219, 220; clothed and fed by 
 the monastery, 220, 222, 491, 
 535; might be dismissed, 220; 
 served a noviciate, 220; con- 
 fessed to a senior, 221, 286, 313, 
 314; had no property, 219, 222, 
 251, 255-7, 297, 338, 339, 535, 
 543; their inconsistencies, 223, 
 250, 251, 262, 287, 343 sq., 
 455, 456, 457, 484, 493, 533; 
 their penances, 211, 216, 223; 
 readings at meals, 218, 224, 
 225; weekly share of duties, 
 224; their fasting, 234 sq., 316 
 sq., 4S9, 507 sq.; celebration 
 of anniversary, 489; not to 
 judge others, 244, 268, 269; 
 their pessimistic murmurs, 250, 
 343; sowing discontent, 251, 
 273; combat dejection, 264 sq., 
 540; uproot anger, 257 sq.; aim 
 at perfect calmness, 259, 297, 
 298, 484, 4S9; also at patience 
 in the heart, 262, 4S4, 49S; 
 some temptations are wanting 
 in solitude, 262; must guard 
 against Accidie, 266 sq., 540; 
 escape from the monastery, 273; 
 combat pride and vainglory, 
 275 sq., 280 sq., 484, 491, 497; 
 avoid women and bishops, 279, 
 371, 401; how they deteriorate, 
 287, 288, 310, 484, 532; their 
 aim and end, 295 sq., 307 sq. ; 
 aim at purity of heart, 296; and 
 at discretion, 307 sq. ; have three 
 vocations, 320 sq.; must avoid 
 gluttony, 343, 348, 349, 491; 
 
 how affected by eight faults, 
 339 sq., 348; are best as ambi- 
 dextrous, 356 sq. ; should re- 
 main in their cells, 360, 535; 
 instant in prayer, 387 sq., 398; 
 teach the younger by example, 
 416, 479; should have patience 
 with a brother, 455, 456; silence 
 not patience, 456; fast spoiled 
 by anger, 457; gain by relaxa- 
 tion, 540; the work best suited 
 for monks and solitaries, 533; 
 hindered by kindred, 534, 535, 
 536, 540; how they began to 
 retire from the world, 4S0-1 ; 
 fell into heresy on the Godhead, 
 187; their spiritual adoption and 
 union, 543-4. 
 
 Montalembert quoted, 1S8. 
 
 Moral questions and difficulties dis- 
 cussed, 351 sq., 460 sq., 468-9, 
 519 sq.; on the divine govern- 
 ment, 352-3; on blame and 
 merit, 354; on moral weakness, 
 519, 520, 525 sq., 529. 
 
 "More blessed to give than to» re- 
 ceive," 273. 
 
 Mortification, discoursed upon, 186. 
 
 Moses, abbot in Calamus desert, 
 321. 
 
 Moses, abbot in Nitrian Valley, 187, 
 275; gave Cassian and Ger- 
 manus two discourses, 187, 275; 
 abbot at Scete, 293, 295; ex- 
 posed to temptation, 372; mas- 
 ter in perfection, 493; first Con- 
 ference, on The goal and aim of 
 a monk, 295 sq.; second Confer- 
 ence, on The grace of discretion, 
 307 sq. 
 
 Narbonne, third Council of, 209. 
 
 Natural impulses useful, yet may be 
 sinful, 249. 
 
 Natural knowledge of the law, 3S4-5. 
 
 Natures in Christ, two and perfect, 
 554; not one substance, 554. 
 
 Nesteros, anchorite and abbot in 
 Egypt, 184, 416, 435; received 
 Cassian and Germanus, 185, 416, 
 435; gave them two discourses, 
 185; first Conference, on Spirit- 
 ual Knowledge, 435 sq.; second 
 Conference, on Divine Gifts, 445 
 
 Nestorianism, its origin, -190, 549, 
 
 551, 556, 5S0; its heresy, 100, 
 
 552, 553, 556, 56i,. 58o, 581, 
 608 sq.; connected with Pelagi- 
 anism, 190, 551, 552, 553, 555, 
 5S0 sq., 616; caused more ac- 
 curate statements in theology, 
 399; refused to B. V. M. the title 
 Theotocos, 556 sq., 580, 581; 
 approached in Cassian's lan- 
 guage, 564; was humanitarian- 
 ism, 580, 581, 60S-9; allowed 
 to Christ divinity through His 
 merits, 553 sq., 561 sq., 580; 
 called Christ Theodochos 581, 
 608; its blasphemy, 610. 
 
 Nestorius, Bishop of Constantinople, 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 633 
 
 190, 549> 55 6 > 592. 594; written 
 against by Cassian, 183, 1S8, 
 189, 190, 195, 399, 549 sq., 
 592 sq., 608—21; had belonged 
 to Euprepius' monastery at An- 
 tioch, 592; fell away from the 
 truth, 593 sq. ; belonged to An- 
 tioch, 594, 620; presuming to 
 be bishop, priest, and deacon, 
 yet a heretic, 596, 597, 600, 
 620; taught two Christs, 598-9; 
 erred regarding the Trinity, 599; 
 summary of his teaching, 619-21 ; 
 denounced by Cassian for im- 
 piety and heresy, 603 sq., 620- 1. 
 
 Niceea, council of, 507; canons 
 moulded the creeds, 592. 
 
 Nicholas, one of the deacons, author 
 of heresy, 487, 488. 
 
 Nicolaitans, their origin doubtful, 
 488. 
 
 Nile in Egypt, frequented by the 
 monks, 185, 246,416; its floods, 
 
 447- 
 Nitrian valley and its monasteries, 
 
 ' 186, 352. 
 Noah, transmitter of knowledge, 384. 
 Nocturnal illusions discoursed upon, 
 
 186. 
 Nocturns, 205, 206, 215, 216. 
 Nones, 205, 212 sq. 
 
 Oath, often rash, 462, 470. 
 
 Obedience and subjection, required 
 from the coenobite, 185; to an- 
 cient and approved customs, 
 202; absolute, learned by the 
 young monks, 221, 222, 225, 
 338; to what perfection, 222, 
 225 sq., '248; even to God may 
 be fruitless, 657. 
 
 Offices at hours of prayer, 214. 
 
 Oil, the form of blessing, 244; blessed 
 by contact with the corpse, 372; 
 plain, used at the anchorite 
 meals, 375, 491, 492. 
 
 Only Begotten was incarnate, 554. 
 
 Orange, council of, 193. 
 
 Ordination to the priesthood, 330. 
 
 Origen, quoted, 230, 304, 382. 
 
 Pachomius, rule of, 218, 219, 220, 
 
 222, 223, 224, 225, 307. 
 Psesius, anchorite in Egypt, 243. 
 Paget, quoted, 234. 
 Palladius visited the Egyptian monks, 
 
 186, 226, 243, 246, 275, 314, 
 
 319. 339, 3 8 7, 4i6, 479> 5°3- 
 Panephysis, Egyptian city, 229, 371, 
 
 415,416,497. 
 Papa, the word how used, 199, 293. 
 Paphnutius, surnamed " the Buffalo," 
 
 Egyptian abbot, 187, 247, 310, 
 
 319 sq., 449, 486; his austerity, 
 
 187, 486; receives Cassian and 
 Germanus, 187; reformed his 
 monastery, 187; was of Scete, 
 319, 402, 486; several bearing 
 
 1 the name, 319; presbyter, 330, 
 402, 486; promoted Daniel to 
 the priesthood, 330; received 
 and read the Festal Letters, 
 
 402; fought openly with demons, 
 449; admired in youth for good- 
 ness and grace, 486, 487; mas- 
 ter in perfection, 493; how 
 accused of theft, 486-7; was he 
 bishop or presbyter, 330. 
 
 Paralysis, case of, 372. 
 
 Patermucius, abbot, 227, 228. 
 
 Patriarchs, the, desired to see Christ 
 and His Day, 589, 590. 
 
 Patience assumes different evil forms, 
 455 s q-; strong in yielding, 
 458; how to be gained, 484; ex- 
 amples of, 485, 487, 489. 
 
 Paul, the Apostle, as a Christian ath- 
 lete, 239, 240; advises against 
 Accidie, 268, 269, 270; taught 
 by example and words, 270; 
 was trained in his call, 316; the 
 form of his purification, 468; his 
 apostolic work, 559, 567; teach- 
 ing of his call, 365; preached 
 the cross, 567. 
 
 Paul, Egyptian abbot, 185, 274, 275, 
 371, 489; had a large monastery, 
 185; his work annually burned 
 by himself, 274-5; originator of 
 Anchoritism, 481. 
 
 Paul of Samosata, 592. 
 
 Pearson quoted, 556. 
 
 Pelagianism, connected with Nes- 
 torianism, 190, 552, 555, 580 
 sq.; its history, 190, 551 sq.; 
 its aim in lowering Christ, 581. 
 
 Pelagians, 285. 
 
 Pelagius, his impiety, 581; taught 
 two Christs and was humanita- 
 rian, 598, 616. 
 
 Penance, monastic, 211, 216, 223, 
 486, 502. 
 
 Penitence, blessed to David and to 
 the thief, 283; its aim, 497 sq.; 
 its modes, 498; its fruits, 499 sq. 
 
 Pentecost, the term how used, 207. 
 
 Pera of a monk, 203. 
 
 Perfect bliss aimed at, 404. 
 
 Perfection, discoursed upon, 185, 
 232, 234, 295 sq.; in and by 
 God, 283, 284, 287, 290, 346, 
 423, 525; its teachers, 284; 
 what are only aids to, 298, 525; 
 how to be reached, 234 sq., 259 
 sq., 262, 265, 279, 283, 287, 
 290, 296, 308, 313, 319, 322, 
 345 sq., 351, 404* 417, 43 6 > 
 493) 499 sq, 502, 525; in con- 
 stant prayer, 387; what aimed 
 at, 404, 420, 493, 502, 524; in 
 love, 417; of different kinds, 
 420; in the work and line begun, 
 436, 493; an example in one 
 case, 437; picture of, in acts 
 of daily life, 437; in teaching 
 Scripture and doctrine, 444; in 
 yielding more than in mastering, 
 458; in patience, an example, 
 487; in only one direction at 
 once, 493; by forgetfulness of 
 sin, 501; needs more grace, 
 525; through humility, 525. 
 
 Peter, the Apostle, at Rome with 
 Simon Magus, 218; his testi- 
 
 mony to the Incarnation, 569; 
 confesses the faith of Christ, 570. 
 
 Petitions in the Lord's Prayer ex- 
 plained, 393 sq. 
 
 Phantasm, charged of Christ, 583, 
 5 8 4, 590, 594- 
 
 Piamun, abbot in Egypt, 18S, 246, 
 469, 479; hid his abstinence, 
 469; his character and position, 
 479; conference on three sorts 
 of monks, 479 sq. 
 
 Pinufius, Egyptian abbot and priest, 
 185, 228 sq., 496 sq.; his ex- 
 treme humility, 228 sq., 496-7; 
 fled to the Thebaid, then to 
 Palestine, 229, 497; conference 
 on the End of penitence and the 
 Marks of satisfaction, 496 sq.; 
 on renunciants, 229, 496; sketch 
 of his life, 496-7. 
 
 Pious frauds, 465, 466; attributed to 
 Apostles, 467, 468. 
 
 Plani, devils, 374. 
 
 Pliny quoted, 304. 
 
 Poisons given in honey, 607, 608. 
 
 Possessed, those, with unclean spirits, 
 370 sq., 487; not to be despised, 
 37 2 > 373! debarred from the 
 Holy Communion, 372; question 
 of their exclusion discussed, 
 373; cleansed, 487. 
 
 Poverty, monastic, 219 sq., 248 sq. 
 338 sq., 535 sq. 
 
 Prayer, discoursed upon, 187, 207 
 s q-j 33 1 > 3 8 7 ?q-, 405 ;. in prostra- 
 tion, 208, 507; collecting prayer, 
 208, 484; canonical prayers, 
 208, 210, 400; conciseness and 
 silence in, 209, 210,400; mixed 
 with psalm-singing, 209, 408, 
 461; suspense from, as a pen- 
 ance, 211, 212; fixed time for, 
 in monastery, 212, 507; self- 
 collectedness in, 209, 331, 388, 
 405 sq., 408; the road to per- 
 fection, 387 sq., 405 sq.; pure 
 and sincere, 388, 405 sq.; 
 strictly in private, 400; different 
 characters of, 390; fourfold 
 nature of, 391-2; method of con- 
 tinual, 405 sq.; with standing at 
 certain seasons, 507; daily and 
 at fixed hours, 214, 422, 437, 
 445; as being heard, 398 sq. ; 
 conditions of an answer, 398 sq., 
 405; proper kinds, 392, 405; to 
 God alone, 391, 405 sq. 
 
 Predestination and Freewill, 190-1. 
 
 Pride, combated by a monk, 275 sq., 
 280 sq., 339; its forms many, 275 
 sq., 280 sq., 2S7; solitude no 
 protection, 276; destructive to 
 virtues, 280 sq., 290; as in Luci- 
 fer, 281; destroyed by humility, 
 282 sq., 287, 290, 350; exam- 
 ples. 286, 289; carnal, 2S7, 289; 
 spiritual, 287, 342; its fruits, 
 288 sq. ; remedies against, 290, 
 342; satanic suggestion, 374. 
 
 Priesthood and diaconate, 278, 286, 
 2 93i 33°; their dignity sacrificed 
 by Nestorius, 594-7, 600. 
 
634 
 
 JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 Froculus, Bishop of Marseilles, 552. 
 
 Property in monastery is common, 
 202, 205. 
 
 Prophets, as witnesses for Christ, 
 5.57 sq., 578-9». 583, 589; de- 
 siring to see Christ and His day, 
 
 589- 
 Prosper of Aquitaine quoted, 184, 
 
 474- 
 Protection by God, discoursed upon, 
 
 185. 
 
 Psalms, sung by the monks, 205, 225, 
 408, 409; fixed at twelve, 206, 
 207, 210; the order, 205 sq. ; by 
 the priest alone chanting, 209; 
 sung in sections, 209, 210; divi- 
 ded by prayers, 209,408; modes 
 of singing, 217; arrangements 
 at Lauds, Prime, and Matins, 216, 
 217. 
 
 Ptolemy quoted, 436. 
 
 Purity of heart aimed at, 296 sq., 340, 
 346, 361 sq. ; the measure of our 
 heavenly vision, 403. 
 
 Quadragesima, 513, 514. 
 
 Quinquagesima from Easter to Pente- 
 cost, 212, 447, 503; relaxation 
 during the season, 503 sq. 
 
 Rahab's action at Jericho, 465. 
 
 Rawlinson quoted, 436. 
 
 Recantation of Leporius, 552—3. 
 
 Relaxation, useful to a monk, 540; 
 at Quinquagesima season, 503 sq. 
 
 Relics of Martyrs, 251, 252. 
 
 Remoboth, monks mentioned by S. 
 Jerome, 482. 
 
 Renunciants of Tabenna, 219 sq.; 
 their discipline, 219 sq., 469; 
 their' novitiate, 220, 231. 
 
 Renunciation, discoursed upon, 187, 
 206, 230 sq., 248 sq., 532 sq.; 
 by the monks, 206, 219 sq., 248 
 sq., 256, 338; must be complete, 
 219 sq., 251, 252, 253, 256, 
 287, 297, 322, 338, 342, 439, 
 505, 532; by the apostles and 
 primitive church, 253 sq., 486; 
 only an aid to perfection, 298, 
 322, 439; threefold, 320, 321, 
 338; Scripture examples, 322-3, 
 505; by the Coenobites, 480; its 
 recompense, 543, 544, 545; of 
 the soul's possession of sins, 
 
 323-4- 
 
 Repentance, 266. 
 
 Resurrection, a birth and regenera- 
 tion, 5855 His "abinferis" not 
 to be denied, 600, O03. 
 
 Revelations, satanic and false, 310, 
 
 3"- 
 
 Riches of different kinds, 324; their 
 renunciation, 324 sq. 
 
 Righteousness, divine and human, 
 521 sq. 
 
 Robe of a monk, ^02. 
 
 Rope dancers, 524. 
 
 Rufinus teaches the Incarnation, 618; 
 quoted, 186, 226, 243, 246, 248, 
 3M» 319. 339. 446, 479. 4S6, 
 503. 551, 578, 592, 607. 
 
 Rule, the Catholic, 202; monastic, to 
 be adapted to cases, 204. 
 
 Sabbath (Saturday), exempted from 
 fasting, 212, 217, 218, 513; a 
 feast with Sunday, 217, 513; at 
 Rome a fast, 218. 
 
 Sabbatier quoted, 202, 25S. 
 
 Sabellianism, form of, taught by Pho- 
 tinus, 552; the heresy, 593. 
 
 Sabellians, 551. 
 
 Sackcloth not a monk's robe, 202. 
 
 Sacrament (mysterium), 303. 
 
 Sacramentum explained, 204, 214, 
 
 574- 
 
 Saints, how far different from Christ, 
 582, 587, 590, 594. 
 
 Salt-fish used by the monks, 226. 
 
 Sandals of a monk, 204. 
 
 Sarabaites, an order of monks, 185, 
 480; " detested and execrable," 
 482; painted by Cassian in dark- 
 est colours, 4S0; broke off from 
 the Coenobites, 482. 
 
 Saraceni, their slaughter of monks, 
 1S7, 351 sq. 
 
 Satan, the devil, tempter of the 
 monks, 210, 304 sq., 312 sq., 
 331, 365; perverting Scripture, 
 
 305, 306, 612; appeared, 306, 
 310, 311; cast out of a monk, 
 312-3; a fallen spirit, 335, 377 
 sq.; forced to acknowledge 
 Christ's divinity, 610-2; feared 
 Christ, 614; his motive for tempt- 
 ing Christ, 610 sq.; tried to 
 defeat human redemption, 61 1, 
 612. 
 
 Satisfaction for sin, and pardon, 
 
 496 sq. 
 Saturday and Sunday services, 213, 
 
 319, 513- 
 
 Saviour, a title belonging to Christ, 
 580. 
 
 Scapular of the monks, 205. 
 
 Scete, in the Egyptian desert, 185, 
 186, 278, 293, 294, 319, 330, 
 352, 416, 533; date of Cassian's 
 visit uncertain, 186, 187, 188. 
 
 Scripture, how read by the monks, 
 206, 207; its senses, 260, 377, 
 437, 440; perverted for a pur- 
 pose, 273, 329, 464, 611, 616; 
 misunderstood and misapplied, 
 
 306, 310, 329, 354, 443, 444, 
 611; its variety, 376, 440, 464 
 sq.; its true knowledge, how to 
 be attained, 438, 439, 443, 464; 
 manifold meanings, 440, 61 1; 
 meaning hid from the ungodly 
 mind, 443, 444, 464; its econ- 
 omy, 464 sq. ; used as a cloak to 
 heresy, 608; its testimony to 
 truth of doctrine, 569 sq.; fear 
 of perversion does not close 
 Scripture, 464 sq. 
 
 Scythia, named as Cassian's birth- 
 place, 183. 
 Secundinus, Bishop of Megarmita, 
 
 555- 
 
 Seluciani, 302. 
 
 Semi-Pelagianism, 190, 191, 193, 
 
 283, 422; in Cassian's writings, 
 190 sq., 422 sq. 
 
 Serapion, Egyptian ascetic, 187, 339, 
 484; discoursed with Cassian 
 and Germanus, 187, 339 sq.; 
 was educated under Abbot The- 
 onas, 312, 339; his anecdote 
 about himself, 312, 484; became 
 anthropomorphite, 402; several 
 of the same name, 339. 
 
 Serapion of Arsinoe, abbot of icco 
 monks, 339. 
 
 Serenus, Egyptian abbot, 187, 375; 
 discoursed to Cassian and Ger- 
 manus, 187, 361 sq., 375 sq.; 
 first Conference, on Inconstancy 
 of Mind and Spiritual wicked- 
 ness, 361 sq.; second Confer- 
 ence, on Principalities, 375 sq. 
 
 Seth and his seed as God's elect, 383 
 sq.; had knowledge from Adam, 
 383,384; naturally had complete 
 knowledge of the law, 384. 
 
 Sickness cured, 445, 446. 
 
 Silence, general, at meals, 224; at 
 psalm-singing, 209; in the cells, 
 460. 
 
 Simeon, expert copyist, friend of 
 Cassian, 247. 
 
 Sin, its nature, 524 sq.; as a present 
 power, 517, 518, 522, 523 sq., 
 552; present in the best, 523, 
 527, 530; the body of, 528; 
 present even in prayer, 530; 
 brought on man by the Fall, 
 525-6; in Adam's transgression 
 our heritage, 525 sq.; grace frees 
 from the law of sin, 528; sin as 
 a natural law, 527; law of sin 
 is obedience to it, 528; if man 
 can be sinless, 552. 
 
 Sins, different kinds of, 252, 347; 
 corresponding to the Seven Na- 
 tions of Palestine, 347; cr to 
 Eight, 348; or to Ten, 349; 
 blind the eyes to sinfulness, 
 523; how to be shunned and 
 overcome, 417-8; how forgiven, 
 496 sq.; worse than devils, 371. 
 
 Sitting at psalm-singing in Egypt, 
 207, 210; an indulgence in the 
 West, 216; sitting in their order 
 at meals, 224. 
 
 Sixtus, Roman priest, friend of S. 
 Augustine, 190. 
 
 Slanders by the heretics, 603 sq. 
 
 Smith and Cheetham, D. C. A., 194, 
 203, 208, 217, 241, 401, 482, 
 
 5°3> 515- 
 Smith and Wace, D. C. B., 183, 186, 
 
 387. 552. 
 Socrates, story about, 424. 
 Socrates (Hist.) quoted, 217, 248, 
 
 486, 556, 620. 
 Sodom sinned in fulness of bread, 
 
 235. 
 Solitude, excludes some temptations, 
 262, 493 sq. ; cannot have others, 
 262; has its own, 262. 362, 493 
 s q-..533> 539. 540; no protection 
 against pride, 276, 277; resorted 
 to by the monks, 262, 319, 362, 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 635 
 
 404, 491, 493, 533, 539, 540; 
 
 its advantages, 491, 493, 533; 
 can show faults to the monk 
 himself, 494. 
 " Sons of God " as the seed of Seth, 
 
 3 8 3- . 
 Soul, its aim and perfect bliss, 404; 
 
 subject to the law and body of 
 sin, 523 sq.; its powers three- 
 fold, 538-9 ; how to be healed of 
 its faults, 538; how weighed 
 down, 338, 523 sq.; how re- 
 lated to evil spirits, 366 sq., 382, 
 3S8; how tempted, 538; not 
 incorporeal, 367; its threefold 
 condition, 336 sq.; ideas regard- 
 ing, 302, 366, 382. 
 
 Sozomen quoted, 186, 202, 207, 219, 
 220, 226, 248, 274, 275, 352, 
 401, 446, 479,486, 513. 
 
 Spiritual persons in dispute, 453. 
 
 Spiritual wickedness, its malignity, 
 335; knowledge neither received 
 nor given by the unclean, 437, 
 442; teaching often unfruitful, 
 
 445- 
 
 Staff of monks, 203. 
 
 Stations, 241, 243. 
 
 Strangers, entertained, 219, 220, 229, 
 242, 243, 245, 246, 27S, 295, 
 310, 375, 415, 416, 422, 450, 
 461, 479, 485, 489, 491, 497. 
 
 Substance true of God and man, 556 
 sq., 577 sq., 606-7. 
 
 Suicides, 310. 
 
 Sun of Righteousness, 260. 
 
 Sunday, a feast, 212, 217, 218; its 
 services, 218, 486; its observ- 
 ance, 375; for Holy Commun- 
 ion, 486. 
 
 Supersubstantial bread, 394. 
 
 Supplications of four kinds, 391, 
 
 393- 
 Symbole, a collection, 592. 
 Symboli, traditio, explained, 597. 
 Symbolum, a creed or watchword, 
 
 592. 
 Synaxis, 209. 
 Syncletius spoiled and not made a 
 
 monk, 254. 
 Synecdoche, a common figure, 602, 
 
 603. 
 
 Tabenna, its position and monastery, 
 219, 497; its discipline, 219. 
 
 Talking gossip forbidden to the 
 monks, 209, 211, 224, 269. 
 
 Tatham quoted, 1S6. 
 
 Tears, their value in bringing convic- 
 tion, 397. 
 
 Temptation of Christ by Satan, 340 
 sq., 610. 
 
 Tertullian quoted, 225, 346, 440, 
 468,515,551,587. 
 
 Testaments, why called instruments, 
 440. 
 
 Tests of obedience, 222, 225, 226, 
 
 227, 22S, 230, 430, 484, 485, 
 541; of renunciation, 206, 219 
 sq., 227, 228, 230, 541. 
 
 Thanksgiving, 392. 
 
 Thebaid, 415. 
 
 The'nnesus, town described, 415- 
 
 Theodochos, Nestorian title for 
 Christ, 581, 582, 608, 609. 
 
 Theodore, abbot of Tabenna and 
 friend of Pachomius, 245. 
 
 Theodore, abbot in Egypt, 187, 351, 
 352; at Cellae, 352; consulted 
 on a point of the divine govern- 
 ment, 351 sq. 
 
 Theodore, Abbot, 245, 351. 
 
 Theodore, " brother " at Marseilles, 
 189, 477. 
 
 Theodoret quoted, 226, 401, 48S. 
 
 Theodoret, abbot in Egypt, 185, 312, 
 503; visited by Cassian and 
 Germanus, 185; had been mar- 
 ried, 185, 503; left his wife for 
 the desert, 506-7; chosen abbot 
 of the monastery, 507 ; first Con- 
 ference, on The Relaxation dur- 
 ing the Fifty Days, 503 sq.; 
 third Conference, on Sinlessness, 
 519 sq. 
 
 Theophilus, Bishop of Alexandria, 
 his Festal Letters, 187, 188, 401 ; 
 succeeded Timothy, 401. 
 
 Theophylact quoted, 302. 
 
 Theotocos, inveighed against, 190, 
 556, 581; how different from 
 Christotocos, and true of B. V. 
 M., 119, 556, 557, 559, 560, 
 570, 581, 618, 620. 
 
 Therapeutae, 186. 
 
 Thomas, Apostle, his confession, 571. 
 
 Thomas Aquinas quoted, 234, 373, 
 
 554- 
 
 Thoughts, changeable, 303, 362, 387 
 sq., 408, 441, 534; can be di- 
 rected, 303 sq., 365, 388 sq., 
 405 sq.; their origin, 304, 362 
 sq., 390, 441 ; care of, 363, 
 365, 389, 408, 409, 534; why 
 so vanishing, 390, 408, 409, 
 
 534- 
 
 "Three days" counted by Synec- 
 doche, 603. 
 
 Tierce service, 205, 212 sq., 218. 
 
 Tillemont quoted, 553. 
 
 Time no question in the Incarnation, 
 603, 606. 
 
 Timothy, Bishop of Alexandria, 401. 
 
 Tithes, given to a monastery, 503 sq., 
 
 . 506; their law considered, 503 
 
 sq., 513, 517; Christian as well 
 
 as Jewish, 504, 505, 506, 516, 
 
 517. — Lent a tithe of time, 
 
 5*3- 
 
 Traditio symboli, 597. 
 
 Trinity, Holy, errors upon, by Ebion, 
 551; by Eunomius, 552; by 
 Arius, 551; by Macedonius, 
 552; by Photinus, 552; by Nes- 
 
 torius, 599; present in the Con- 
 ception, 557, 613; present in 
 every work of Christ, 613 sq.; 
 its unity denied by Macedonius, 
 552. 
 
 Truth, must it always be told, 464 
 sq., 468-9; gains by thorough 
 ventilation, 555; has fixed au- 
 thority and use, 555. 
 
 Tunic of the monk, 203. 
 
 Two hearts in one body, 295. 
 
 Uzziah, an example of vainglory, 
 277. 
 
 Vainglory, to be combated, 275 sq., 
 306, 339, 346; carnal and spiri- 
 tual, 275, 342, 351; assumes 
 many forms, 275, 278, 344; 
 dangerous when mixed with vir- 
 tue, 277,351; examples in Scrip- 
 ture, 277, 346; examples in 
 monks, 277; remedies for, 279, 
 306, 342, 346; of two main 
 kinds, 344; none in miraculous 
 powers, 446 sq.; none in using 
 oil at meals, 375, 491. 
 
 Venerius, Bishop of Marseilles, 192. 
 
 Vespers service, 214. 
 
 Vices, their range and results, 280. 
 
 Victor, Bishop of Martyrites, 194. 
 
 Vigilia, its office, 216, 217; its indul- 
 gence, 217. 
 
 Vigils to festivals, 217; sleepless, 
 460. 
 
 Vincentius Lirinensis quoted, 556. 
 
 Virgil quoted, 607. 
 
 Vocations, three to a monk, 320 sq., 
 328; Scripture examples, 320. 
 
 Washing the monks' feet, 225. 
 
 Wednesday and Friday fasts, 241, 
 242. 
 
 Weekly share of duty, 224, 225; of- 
 ficers or Hebdomadarii, 225. 
 
 West, few monasteries in, and why, 
 274. 
 
 Westcott quoted, 304, 587. 
 
 Why does God allow the just to suf- 
 fer, 352. 
 
 Widows, 584, 585. 
 
 Wife forsaken for greater austerity, 
 506, 
 
 Wine from water in Galilee, 605. 
 
 Women, avoided by monks, 251, 
 279, 371; invaluable as nurses, 
 372, 485- 
 Word of God truly Incarnate, 554- 
 
 Works means of blessing, 268 sq.; 
 necessary to a monk, 536- 
 
 World, three kinds of things in, 
 352 sq. 
 
 Yoke of Christ, how easy and light, 
 541, 542, 543. 
 
 Zeal in serving and in labour, 225. 
 
6 3 6 
 
 JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 INDEX OF TEXTS. 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Gen. i. 26 . . 
 
 • 402, 403 
 
 Numb. xv. 32 . 
 
 • 359 
 
 2 Kings xx. 1-6 . . 471 
 
 Ps. xxiv. 4 
 
 • 326 
 
 i. 28 . . 
 
 . . 466 
 
 xviii. 26 . 
 
 • 503 
 
 2 Chr. iii. 5 
 
 
 3°4 
 
 xxiv. 5 
 
 • 326 
 
 i. 31 . . 
 
 377, 52i 
 
 xxiv. . 
 
 • • 539 
 
 vi. 30 . . 
 
 
 367 
 
 xxiv. 18 . 499, 500 
 
 ii. 18 . . 
 
 • . 507 
 
 Deut. iv. 26 . 
 
 • 5o5 
 
 xxiv. 17, 18 
 
 
 286 
 
 xxv. 2 . . 358, 495 
 
 iii. 1 . 
 
 • 379 
 
 vi. 4 . 
 
 385, 435 
 
 xxiv. 23-25 
 
 
 286 
 
 xxv. 8 . 
 
 • 534 
 
 iii. 5 . 341, 
 
 342, 3 g 6 
 
 vi. 4, s . 
 
 ■ • 376 
 
 xxvi. 15, 16 
 
 
 278 
 
 XXX. 10 
 
 • 257 
 
 iii. 15 . . 
 
 231, 255 
 
 vi. 7 . 
 
 . . 407 
 
 xxxii. 24-26 
 
 
 277 
 
 xxxi. 5 499 (bis) 500 
 
 iii. 17, 19 . 
 
 • 525 
 
 vii. 1-3 . 
 
 329, 347 
 
 Esth. vi. 1, sq. 
 
 
 3°4 
 
 xxxi. 6 
 
 • 499 
 
 iii. 22 . 
 
 . 428 
 
 vii. 21-23 
 
 ■ • 346 
 
 Job i. 9, 10 
 
 
 
 332 
 
 xxxi. 10 . 
 
 • 358 
 
 iv. 4 . 
 
 • 385 
 
 viii. 2 . 
 
 • • 357 
 
 i. 9-1 1 
 
 
 
 43i 
 
 xxxii. 5 
 
 • 512 
 
 iv. 7 . 
 
 • S12 
 
 viii. 3 . . 
 
 . . 384 
 
 i. 21 . 
 
 
 
 357 
 
 xxxii. 9 . 
 
 • 555 
 
 iv. 17-21 . 
 
 . 383 
 
 viii. 12-15 
 
 . . 346 
 
 ii. 6 . 
 
 
 
 366 
 
 xxxii. 15 . 
 
 • 367 
 
 v. 4-30 . 
 
 . 383 
 
 ix. 4, 5 . 
 
 • • 346 
 
 ii. 10 . 
 
 
 
 357 
 
 xxxiii. 7 . 
 
 • 324 
 
 V. 22 . . 
 
 . 385 
 
 xiii. 1-3 . 
 
 43i» 446 
 
 iii. 23 . 
 
 
 
 354 
 
 xxxiii. 8 . 
 
 • 381 
 
 v. 24 . . 
 
 . 322 
 
 xvi. 9 . 
 
 • 5" 
 
 v. 2 
 
 
 
 242 
 
 xxxiii. 9 . 528, 543 
 
 vi. 2 . 
 
 • 383 
 
 xx. 8 . 
 
 • 252 
 
 v. 7 . 
 
 
 
 365 
 
 xxxiii. 10. 41 
 
 9, 421 
 
 vi. 3 . . 
 
 • 333 
 
 xxiii. 7 
 
 • 348 
 
 v. 18 . 
 
 
 
 315 
 
 xxxiii. 11. 
 
 • 324 
 
 vii. 2 . 
 
 • • 385 
 
 xxvii. 26 . 
 
 • 505 
 
 v. 23 . 
 
 
 
 265 
 
 xxxiii. 14 . 
 
 • 427 
 
 viii. 21 
 
 • 5i9 
 
 xxviii. 23 . 
 
 • 423 
 
 x. 10, II 
 
 
 
 386 
 
 xxxiii. 19 
 
 • 357 
 
 ix. 23 . . 
 
 • 385 
 
 xxxii. 7 
 
 • 3i 6 
 
 xv. 14, 15 
 
 
 
 360 
 
 xxxiii. 23 . 
 
 . 416 
 
 xii. 1 . 320, 
 
 321, 3 2 S 
 
 xxxii. 12 . 
 
 • 584 
 
 xv. 15 . 
 
 
 
 524 
 
 xxxiii. 32 . 
 
 • 353 
 
 xiv. 20, 22 
 
 • 385 
 
 xxxii. 17 . 
 
 • 457 
 
 xxiv. 21 
 
 
 
 5i6 
 
 xxxiv. 2-4 
 
 • 285 
 
 xiv. 22, 23 
 
 • 504 
 
 xxxii. 21 . 
 
 . 489 
 
 xxv. 5 . 
 
 
 
 524 
 
 xxxiv. 8 . 
 
 • 369 
 
 xv. 13 . . 
 
 . 601 
 
 xxxii. 24 . 
 
 • 358 
 
 xxviii. 15 
 
 
 
 3°4 
 
 xxxiv. 10 . 
 
 • 522 
 
 xv. 18-21 
 
 • 349 
 
 xxxii. 31 . 
 
 . 368 
 
 xxix. 15 
 
 
 
 356 
 
 xxxiv. 26 
 
 • 369 
 
 xviii. . 
 
 • 385 
 
 xxxii. 32, 33 
 
 • 389 
 
 xxix. 17 
 
 
 
 522 
 
 xxxv. I, 2 
 
 . 281 
 
 xix. 
 
 • 385 
 
 Josh. v. 16 . . 
 
 . 204 
 
 xxxi. 24 
 
 
 
 3°4 
 
 xxxv. 7 
 
 • 376 
 
 xix. 2, 3 . 
 
 • 47o 
 
 vii. 
 
 • 305 
 
 xxxviii. 7 
 
 
 
 377 
 
 xxxv. 12 . 
 
 . 406 
 
 xxii. 1 
 
 • 43i 
 
 Judg. ii. 22 
 
 • 432 
 
 xxxix. 5~£ 
 
 
 
 482 
 
 xxxvi. 16 . 
 
 • 537 
 
 xxii. 12 
 
 • 43i 
 
 iii. I, 2 . 
 
 • 432 
 
 xl. 3 . 
 
 
 
 357 
 
 xxxvi. 23, 24 
 
 • 326 
 
 xxxii. 30 . 
 
 . 607 
 
 iii. 1-4 
 
 • 332 
 
 xl. 16 . 
 
 
 
 34° 
 
 xxxvii. 6 . 
 
 • 324 
 
 xxxvii. 4 . 
 
 454, 488 
 
 iii. 9 . 
 
 320, 578 
 
 Ps. i. 2 . . 
 
 
 
 422 
 
 xxxvii. 14, 15 
 
 ■ 232 
 
 xl. 7 . . 
 
 . 461 
 
 iii. 15 . . 
 
 356, 578 
 
 ii. II . 
 
 
 
 420 
 
 xxxvii. 19 
 
 • 499 
 
 xlii. 9, 16 
 
 • 47o 
 
 I Sam. ii. 6, 7. 
 
 • 3i5 
 
 iv. 5 . 
 
 
 . 259, 260 
 
 xxxviii. 2, 3 . 
 
 • 233 
 
 xlii. 21 
 
 • 47o 
 
 ii. 9 . . 
 
 • 327 
 
 v. 7 . 
 
 
 .464, 466 
 
 xxxviii. 13 
 
 322 
 
 xiv. 5-8 . 
 
 . 428 
 
 ii. 30 . . 
 
 • 54° 
 
 v. 9 . 
 
 
 . . 426 
 
 xxxix. 2 . 
 
 43° 
 
 1. 19, 20 . 
 
 . 428 
 
 xv. 
 
 • 3°9 
 
 vi. 2 
 
 
 . . 258 
 
 xxxix. 3 . 
 
 326 
 
 Exod. iii. 2 
 
 • 557 
 
 xv. 11, 35 
 
 • 472 
 
 vi. 6 . 
 
 
 . . 301 
 
 xxxix. 9 . 
 
 399 
 
 iii. 5 . . 
 
 . 204 
 
 xxi. 1, 2, 8, ] 
 
 3 • 465 
 
 v|. 7 -3 
 
 97, 
 
 499, 500 
 
 xxxix. 15 (bis) 
 
 369 
 
 iii. 14 . . . 
 
 • 584 
 
 xxii. 7-10 
 
 . 468 
 
 vi. 9 
 
 
 .326, 500 
 
 xxxix. 17 . 
 
 407 
 
 iv. 13 . . 
 
 • 572 
 
 xxiv. 7 
 
 . 466 
 
 vii. 17 . 
 
 
 • • 369 
 
 xii. 4 . . . 
 
 499 
 
 v. 2 . . 
 
 . 282 
 
 xxv. 22, 34 
 
 • 47° 
 
 viii. 5 . 
 
 
 . 601 
 
 xlii. 9 . . . 
 
 365 
 
 v. 8, 9 • 
 
 • 5i5 
 
 2 Sam. v. 1 . 
 
 • 333 
 
 ix. 9 
 
 
 • 369 
 
 xliii 4, 5 . . 
 
 285 
 
 vii. 1 . 
 
 . 561 
 
 xii. 13 
 
 283, 430 
 
 xi. 7 . 
 
 
 . 444 
 
 xliii. 6-8 . . 
 
 285 
 
 viii. 21 
 
 • 364 
 
 xiv. 14 
 
 • 425 
 
 xii. 3 . 
 
 
 • 397 
 
 xliii. 22 . 
 
 367 
 
 xvi. 3 . . 
 
 • 323 
 
 xvi. 10-12 
 
 . 260 
 
 xii. 4 . 3 
 
 69, 
 
 397, 429 
 
 xliii. 23 . 
 
 258 
 
 xx. 4-17 . 
 
 • 3S5 
 
 xvii. 14 . 
 
 . 466 
 
 xii. 5 . 
 
 
 • 369 
 
 xliii. 25 . 
 
 282 
 
 xx. 14 . . 
 
 • 44o 
 
 xvii. 20 
 
 . 466 
 
 xiii. 4 . 
 
 
 . 618 
 
 xliv. 11 . 
 
 321 
 
 xxi. 24 
 
 504. 5*6 
 
 xxiii. 17 . 
 
 . 260 
 
 xiv. 5 . 
 
 
 • 444 
 
 xliv. 12 . 
 
 324 
 
 xxii. 21, 27 
 
 • 398 
 
 I Kings iii. 24-27 
 
 • 47o 
 
 xv. 10 . 
 
 
 . 214 
 
 xliv. 17 
 
 593 
 
 xxii. 29, 
 
 
 iv. 29 . 
 
 199, 460 
 
 xvi. 4 . 
 
 223, 541 
 
 xiv. 7 . . . . 
 
 581 
 
 505. 
 
 513, 5i6 
 
 vii. 13 
 
 . 199 
 
 xvi. 5 . . 
 
 326, 426 
 
 xlvi. 6 . . . 
 
 614 
 
 xxiii. 7 . 
 
 . 466 
 
 viii. 17-^-19 
 
 . 429 
 
 xvii. 2-4 
 
 . . 2S5 
 
 xlviii. 8 . 
 
 587 
 
 xxxii. 31, 32 
 
 • 394 
 
 viii. 58 
 
 . 427 
 
 xvii. 20 sqq . . 285 
 
 xlix. 3 . 58 
 
 8, 607 
 
 xxxii. 31-33 
 
 • 472 
 
 xi. 2 . 
 
 • 384 
 
 xvii. 33 sq . . 285 
 
 xlix. 15 ... 
 
 428 
 
 xxxiii. 13 
 
 • 587 
 
 xiii. 22 
 
 • 359 
 
 xvii. 35 . . 
 
 • 285 
 
 xlix. 16 
 
 443 
 
 xxxiii. 20 . 
 
 • 303 
 
 xiii. 26 
 
 • 37i 
 
 xvii. 38, 39 . 
 
 • 3% 
 
 xlix. 23 . 
 
 400 
 
 xxxiv. 16 . 
 
 • 384 
 
 XX. 
 
 • 3°9 
 
 xvii. 40, 41 . 
 
 • 285 
 
 1-5 • • 49 
 
 9, 500 
 
 Lev. xviii. 5 
 
 • 5°4 
 
 xx. 31, 32, 4 
 
 2 • 539 
 
 xviii. 11 . 
 
 . 442 
 
 1. 6 .... 
 
 500 
 
 xviii. 7 
 
 • 385 
 
 xxi. 21-24 
 
 • 359 
 
 xviii. 13 . 
 
 
 502, 529 
 
 1. 12, 9 . . . 
 
 427 
 
 xix. 17, 18 
 
 . 262 
 
 xxii. 22 . 
 
 
 xviii. 14 
 
 
 • 502 
 
 1. 19, 21 . . . 
 
 400 
 
 xix. 36 
 
 . 512 
 
 304, 
 
 374, 539 
 
 xxi. 2 . 
 
 
 • 393 
 
 Ii. 6-9 ... 
 
 281 
 
 xxi. 12 
 
 . 440 
 
 2 Kings i. 1-8 
 
 . 201 
 
 xxi. 1 1 
 
 
 . 581 
 
 Ii. 7 • • • • 
 
 468 
 
 Numb. v. 9, 10 
 
 • 5°3 
 
 iv. 29 . 
 
 • • 203 
 
 xxiii. 7 
 
 
 . 615 
 
 Iii. 6 . . . . 
 
 279 
 
 xi. 5 • • 
 
 • 323 
 
 vi. 30 . . 
 
 . . 202 
 
 xxiii. 35 
 
 
 • 536 
 
 liii. 6 . . . . 
 
 278 
 
 xi. 18 . . 
 
 • • 323 
 
 XX. . 
 
 • • 277 
 
 xxiv. 1-3 
 
 
 • 
 
 369 
 
 liii. 8 . . . . 
 
 213 
 
INDEX OF TEXTS. 
 
 637 
 
 Ps. liv. 13-15 
 liv. 22 
 lviii. 1 1 
 lx. 2 . 
 lxi. 5 . 
 lxi. 10 
 lxii. 2, 7 
 lxii. 9 . 
 lxv. 12 
 lxv. 15 
 lxvii. 7 
 lxvii. 29 
 
 284, 
 
 • 457 
 
 • 456 
 426, 429 
 
 • 234 
 . 204 
 
 • 512 
 . 214 
 . 240 
 
 • 234 
 . 400 
 
 • 451 
 
 327, 428 
 
 • 430 
 
 lxviii. 4 
 lxxviii. 20 
 lxviii. 29 
 Ixix. 2 
 lxxi. 28 
 lxxii. 2-5 
 lxxii. 5 
 lxxii. 28 
 lxxiii. 19 
 lxxiii. 21 
 Ixxvi. 5 
 lxxvi. 6, 7 
 lxxvii. 34, 35 
 lxxix. 2 
 lxxx. 7 
 lxxx. IO 
 lxxx. 12, 
 
 lxxx. 15 
 lxxxi. 6 
 lxxxi. 7 
 lxxxii. 19 
 lxxxiii. 6 
 lxxxiii. 8 
 lxxxiv. 9 
 lxxxiv. 12 
 lxxxvii. 10 
 lxxxvii. 14 
 lxxvii. 65 
 lxxxix. 17 
 xc. 5 . . 
 xc. 6 . 
 xc. 7 . 
 
 XC. II, 12 
 
 xc. 13 ... 
 
 374, 602, 610 
 
 83 
 
 • 472 
 
 • 405 
 
 • 365 
 ■ 373 
 
 • 358 
 
 • 522 
 204, 346 
 
 3 2 4, 407 
 459 
 304 
 321 
 
 357 
 585 
 13 (bis) 329 
 
 • 329 
 383, 56i 
 378, 383 
 
 • 581 
 
 • 363 
 . 420 
 
 • 304 
 
 • 581 
 
 • 429 
 429, 574 
 
 • 258 
 284, 428 
 
 • 374 
 266, 374 
 
 • 348 
 
 • 305 
 
 xcm. 10 . 
 
 xciii. II . 
 
 xciii. 17 . 
 
 xciii. 18 . 
 
 xciii. 19 . 
 xciii. 17-19 
 
 xcviii. 4 . 
 c. 1, 2 
 
 ci. 1 . . 
 
 ci. 7, 8 . 
 
 ci. 10 . . 
 
 ci. 27, 28 . 
 ciii. 15 
 
 326, 427 
 
 304 
 326, 419 
 
 • • 326 
 
 • • 326 
 
 • • 285 
 . . 512 
 
 281, 439 
 
 • • 397 
 282 (bis) 
 
 482, 493 
 
 397> 5°? 
 360, 521 
 
 309, 
 
 444, 525 
 
 ciii. 18 
 
 
 40S 
 
 cm. 21 
 
 
 369 
 
 civ. 16, 17 
 
 
 428 
 
 cv. 40 . 
 
 
 258 
 
 cvi. 2, 4-6 
 
 
 482 
 
 cvi. 19 
 
 
 321 
 
 cvi. 20 
 
 
 573 
 
 cvi. 33 sq. 
 
 
 416 
 
 Ps. cviii. 6 
 cviii. 24 
 cix. 5, 6 
 ex. 10 . 
 cxi. 2, 3 
 cxi. 10 
 cxiii. 17, 18 
 cxiv. 7, 8, 9 
 cxiv. 7 
 cxv. 4 . 
 cxv. 6 . 
 cxv. 7, 8 . 
 cxv. 16, 17 
 
 cxvii. 6 
 cxvii. 13 . 
 cxvii. 14 . 
 cxvii. 27 . 
 cxviii. 1, 2 
 cxviii. 8 . 
 cxviii. 11 . 
 cxviii. 18 . 
 cxviii. 19 . 
 cxviii. 28 . 
 cxviii. 31 . 
 cxviii. 32 . 
 cxviii. 36 . 
 cxviii. 60 . 
 cxviii. 71 . 
 cxviii. 73 . 
 cxviii. 104 
 cxviii. 106 
 cxviii. 108 
 cxviii. 112 
 
 427, 
 
 284, 
 284, 
 
 214, 
 
 234, 
 
 419, 
 
 cxviii. 120 
 cxviii. 125 
 cxviii. 147, 148 
 
 214, 429, 
 cxviii. 164 
 cxviii. 165 
 
 cxviii. 166 
 cxix. 1 
 cxix. 62 
 exxvi. 1 
 exxvi. 2 
 exxvii. 1 
 exxviii. 8 
 exxx. 1, 2 
 exxx. 1, 2 
 exxx. 4 
 exxxii. 1 
 exxxii. 2 
 exxxviii. 23, 24 
 exxxix. 10 
 cxi. 2 . 
 cxi. 3 . 
 cxli. 4 . 
 cxlii. 2 
 cxliii. 5 
 cxliii. 10 
 cxliv. 16 
 cxiv. 2 
 cxiv. 8 
 cxlvii. 12 
 cl. 6 . 
 Prov. ii. 20 
 iii. 9 . 
 iii. 10 . 
 iv. 23 . 
 
 265, 
 
 282 
 
 264, 
 
 214: 
 
 397 : 
 
 5°3> 
 
 382 
 500 
 
 397 
 421 
 
 324 
 233 
 301 
 
 327 
 427 
 
 39i 
 
 353 
 419 
 
 499 
 601 
 326 
 327 
 578 
 443 
 332 
 444 
 326 
 322 
 267 
 
 365 
 459 
 427 
 495 
 332 
 586 
 439 
 472 
 213 
 
 427 
 230 
 327 
 
 5H 
 215 
 
 355 
 43° 
 398 
 215 
 427 
 282 
 420 
 501 
 281 
 203 
 258 
 45i 
 442 
 495 
 3 6 9 
 400 
 427 
 276 
 529 
 587 
 326 
 
 327 
 532 
 427 
 438 
 301 
 542 
 512 
 503 
 427 
 
 Prov. iv. 26 
 iv. 27 . 
 v. 15, 16 
 v. 22 . 
 
 499 
 
 vm. 13 
 ix. 1 
 ix. 10 
 ix. 18 
 x. 4 
 x. 12 
 xi. 14 
 xi. 15 
 xi. 22 
 xi. 25 
 xii. 5 
 xii. 9 
 xii. 10 
 xii. 16 
 xii. 2S 
 xiii. 4 . 
 xiii. 7 . 
 xiii. 8 . 
 xiii. 17 
 xiv. 6 . 
 
 xiv 
 xiv 
 xiv 
 
 7 • 
 17 
 
 23 
 
 3^5 
 
 xiv. 26 
 xiv. 29 
 xiv. 33 
 
 XV. I 
 
 xv. 19 
 xv. 27 
 xv ; 33 
 xvi. 4 
 xvi. 5 
 xvi. 18 
 xvi. 25 
 xvi. 26 
 xvi. 32 
 xvii. 3 . 
 xvii. 6 . 
 xvii. 16 
 xvii. 28 
 xviii. 2 
 xviii. 17 
 xix. 3 . 
 xix. 7 . 
 xix. 9 . 
 xix. 10 
 xx. 9 . 
 xx. 10, 11 
 xx. 13 . 
 xx. 17. 
 xx. 23 . 
 xxi. 13 
 xxi. 25 
 xxi. 30 
 xxi. 31 
 xxii. 5 
 xxii. 20 
 xxiii. 1,2 
 xxiii. 9 
 xxiii. 21 
 xxiii. 33-35 
 xxiii. 35 
 xxiv. 3, 4 
 xxiv. 11 
 xxiv. 15 
 
 52 
 
 305 
 
 PAGE 
 426 
 276 
 
 442 
 
 5, 642 
 416 
 611 
 232 
 501 
 448 
 453 
 309 
 306 
 
 443 
 257 
 304 
 538 
 419 
 
 459 
 262 
 
 274. 532 
 538 
 324 
 419 
 368 
 355 
 257 
 
 444, 545 
 545 
 
 459, 485 
 444 
 257 
 
 274, 542 
 500 
 443 
 417 
 1,286 
 361 
 
 3°5, 501 
 365 
 485 
 
 37i 
 
 544 
 443 
 333 
 444 
 484 
 543 
 363 
 525 
 444 
 529 
 512 
 242, 347 
 466 
 512 
 419 
 532 
 368 
 
 327 
 542 
 438 
 3°7 
 444 
 273 
 5°i 
 524 
 309 
 315,466 
 
 • 444 
 
 28 
 
 30 
 
 Prov. xxiv. 16 
 xxiv. 17, 1 
 xxv. 8 . 
 xxv. 14 
 xxv. 20 
 xxv. 28 
 xxvi. 1 1 
 xxvi. 22 
 xxvi. 25 
 xxvi. 27 
 xxvii. 4 
 xxvii. 15 
 xxviii. 19 
 xxix. 5 
 xxix. 11 
 xxix. 19 
 xxix. 20 
 xxix. 22 
 xxx. 26 
 xxxi. 3 
 xxxi. 6, 7 
 xxxi. 21 
 xxxi. 25 
 
 Eccl. i. 9, 10 
 iii. . 
 iii. 14 
 iv. 6 
 
 v. 3 
 v. 4 
 vii. 9 
 vii. 10 
 vii. 21 
 vii. 25 
 vii. 29 
 viii. 11 
 ix. 11 
 x. 2 
 x. 4 
 
 X. II 
 
 x. 15 
 
 x. 18 
 xi. 2 
 xii. 7 
 Isa. i. 3 
 i. 6 
 
 i. 16-ii 
 i. 16 
 i. 19 
 i. 25, 26 
 ii. 22 
 vi. 5 
 vi. 6, 7 
 vi. 9 
 vi. 10 
 vii. 9 
 vii. 14 
 viii. 20 
 ix. 6, 7 
 x. 14 (bis) 
 xi. 2, 3 
 xi. 8 . 
 xii. I . 
 xiii. 12 
 xiii. 21, 22 
 xiv. 12 
 xiv. 13 
 
 442, 
 273, 
 
 42 
 
 253 
 
 529, 
 
 363, 
 3 
 
 3°4, 
 
 xiv. 14 
 
 xiv. 15 
 xxv. 9 . 
 
 281 (bis), 
 
 342, 
 
 . .281, 
 
 378, 386, 
 
 502 
 346 
 459 
 448 
 264 
 
 3°9 
 460 
 
 456 
 35° 
 456 
 488 
 361 
 365 
 456 
 459 
 444 
 439 
 258 
 408 
 3°9 
 444 
 437 
 274 
 
 383 
 508 
 
 385 
 537 
 39i 
 39i 
 
 459 
 257 
 530 
 386 
 428 
 365 
 434 
 488 
 
 367 
 
 313 
 542 
 361 
 217 
 386 
 578 
 374 
 500 
 
 363 
 426 
 
 37i 
 581 
 
 529 
 530 
 429 
 445 
 435 
 555 
 385 
 608 
 282 
 421 
 602 
 358 
 3°4 
 374 
 378 
 282 
 378 
 342 
 577 
 577 
 608 
 
6 3 8 
 
 JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Isa 
 
 . xxvi. 15 . . . 354 
 
 Jer. iv. 14 . 
 
 • • 363. 427 
 
 Hos. vii. 15 . . 430 
 
 Cant. v. 10 
 
 • • 615 
 
 
 xxix. 9 
 
 . . 389 
 
 v - 3 • 
 
 • • • 358 
 
 ix. 12 . 
 
 
 
 • 525 
 
 2 Mace. vi. 2 . 
 
 • • 377 
 
 
 xxx. 18 
 
 • • 43° 
 
 v. 21 . 
 
 • • 429. 443 
 
 X. 12 . t 
 
 1-27 
 
 4: 
 
 9, 443 
 
 S. Matt. i. 1 . 
 
 . . 610 
 
 
 xxx. 19 
 
 . 426, 428 
 
 vi. 16 . 
 
 • • • 543 
 
 xi. 4 . 
 
 
 
 • 577 
 
 i- 5 • • 
 
 • • 465 
 
 
 xxx. 23 
 
 • • 444 
 
 vi. 29, 30 
 
 • • • 358 
 
 xiv. 9 . 
 
 
 
 • 326 
 
 i. 20 . 
 
 •597, 611 
 
 
 xxx. 26 
 
 • • 521 
 
 viii. 4 . 
 
 . . . 423 
 
 xiv. 10 
 
 
 
 • 542 
 
 i. 21 . . 
 
 • • 578 
 
 
 xxxi. 9 
 
 . . 516 
 
 viii. 5 . 
 
 • -423,425 
 
 Joel i. 5 . 
 
 
 
 • 389 
 
 iii. 2, 7 . 
 
 • • 557 
 
 
 xxxiii. 6 . 
 
 . 421 
 
 viii. 17 
 
 . . 488, 489 
 
 ii. 10, 1 1 
 
 
 
 • 3 6 4 
 
 ii. 2 . . 
 
 • • 499 
 
 
 xxxiv. 13, 15 
 
 374, 602 
 
 viii. 22 
 
 . . . 324 
 
 ii. 13 . 
 
 
 
 • 354 
 
 iii. 4 . 
 
 . . 201 
 
 
 xxxiv. 14 . 
 
 . . 602 
 
 ix. 1 . 
 
 • • • 397 
 
 Amos i. 1 . 
 
 
 
 • 35i 
 
 iii. 14 . 
 
 . . 608 
 
 
 xxxv. 3 
 
 . . 430 
 
 ix. 4 . 
 
 . . . 456 
 
 iii. 6 . 
 
 
 
 • 354 
 
 iii. 16 . 
 
 • • 57o 
 
 
 xxxv. 10 . 
 
 • • 3°° 
 
 ix. 5 . 
 
 • -456,519 
 
 iv. 1 1 . 
 
 
 
 • 358 
 
 iii. 17 . 
 
 .570, 608 
 
 
 xxxvii. 25 (b 
 
 s) . 282 
 
 ix. 8 
 
 . . . 456 
 
 viii. 9 . 
 
 
 
 . 260 
 
 iv. 3 . . 
 
 • 340, 539 
 
 
 xl. 4 . 
 
 • • 543 
 
 x. 23 . 
 
 . . . 326 
 
 Jonah iii. 4 
 
 
 
 • 47i 
 
 iv. 6 . 
 
 
 
 xl. 9 . . 
 
 . . 608 
 
 x. 24 . 
 
 • • 358 
 
 iii. 8 . 
 
 
 
 202 
 
 305 
 
 342, 539 
 
 
 xl. 12 . . 
 
 . . 258 
 
 xi. 1 r . 
 
 • • • 354 
 
 iii. 10 . 
 
 
 
 • 354 
 
 iv. 8 . . 
 
 • • 342 
 
 
 xlii. 18, 19 
 
 • 429 
 
 xii. 1, 2 
 
 • • • 373 
 
 Micah ii. 7 . 
 
 
 •V 
 
 8, 542 
 
 v. 3 . . 
 
 
 
 xliii. 8 
 
 . . 429 
 
 xiv. 12 
 
 • • 5°9 
 
 ii. 11 . 
 
 
 
 ■ 394 
 
 324, 397 
 
 407, 504 
 
 
 xliii. 25 499 (bis) 500 
 
 xv. 7 . 
 
 • • • 358 
 
 vii. 5 . 
 
 
 
 . 400 
 
 v. 8 . . 
 
 
 
 xliii. 26 . 499, 500 
 
 xvii. 5 . 
 
 •532, 585 
 
 Nahum i. 15 
 
 
 
 • 513 
 
 263 
 
 299, 43S 
 
 
 xliv. 22 499 
 
 xvii. 13 
 
 • • 472 
 
 Hab. i. 16 . 
 
 
 
 . 281 
 
 v. 14 . . 
 
 
 
 xlv. 2, 3 . 
 
 
 234 
 
 xvii. 16 2 
 
 04, 490, 533 
 
 ii. 15, 16 
 
 
 
 • 456 
 
 230 
 
 479, 540 
 
 
 xlv. 6, 7 . 
 
 
 354 
 
 xvii. 18 
 
 • • 3 6 9 
 
 iii. 2 . 
 
 
 
 • 459 
 
 v. 16 . . 
 
 • • 394 
 
 
 xlv. 9 . 
 
 
 603 
 
 xvii. 21 
 
 • • 427 
 
 Zeph. i. 12 
 
 
 
 • 352 
 
 v. 19 . 
 
 • • 439 
 
 
 xlv. 14, 15 
 
 
 58i 
 
 xviii. 7, k 
 
 5 . . 471 
 
 Hagg. i. 6 . 
 
 
 
 • 537 
 
 V. 22 . . 
 
 
 
 xlvi. 10 
 
 
 394 
 
 xviii. 15 
 
 . . 542 
 
 Zech. i. 14 . 
 
 
 
 • 304 
 
 260, 263 (bis), 452 
 
 
 xlviii. 9 
 
 
 345 
 
 xxvi. 2, 3 
 
 . . 471 
 
 ix. 17 . 
 
 
 
 • 328 
 
 v. 23, 24 
 
 
 
 xlix. 6 . 
 
 
 420 
 
 xxx. II 
 
 • • 358 
 
 xii. 8 . 
 
 
 
 364 
 
 261, 
 
 452, 455 
 
 
 xlix. 15 . 
 
 
 434 
 
 xxxi. 16 
 
 • • 499 
 
 Mai. i. 6 . 
 
 
 41 
 
 8, 421 
 
 v. 37 • • 
 
 463, 466 
 
 
 1,1,2, . 
 
 
 526 
 
 xxxii. 39, 
 
 40 . . 328 
 
 ii. 17 . 
 
 
 
 352 
 
 v. 39, 40 . 
 
 376, 3S6 
 
 
 1.4 • • 
 
 
 315 
 
 xxxv. 6, 7 
 
 19 . 504 
 
 iii. 2, 3 
 
 
 
 602 
 
 457 (bis), 576 
 
 
 I. II . . 
 
 
 542 
 
 xlviii. 10 
 
 
 iii. 6 . 
 
 
 
 360 
 
 v. 43-45 • 
 
 . 272 
 
 
 H. 3 • • 
 
 
 300 
 
 2 
 
 30, 501, 512 
 
 iii. 8 . 
 
 
 55 
 
 6, 604 
 
 v. 44 . . 
 
 
 
 lii. I . . 
 
 
 273 
 
 li. 8, 9 
 
 • • 374 
 
 iii. 14, 15 
 
 
 
 352 
 
 3S6, 
 
 419, 454 
 
 
 lii. 2 . . 
 
 
 427 
 
 Lam. ii. 18 
 
 • • 397 
 
 iv. 2 
 
 
 
 260 
 
 v. 45 . . 
 
 • 419 
 
 
 lii. 6 . . 
 
 
 576 
 
 iii. 27, 28 
 
 • 482, 493 
 
 Wisdom i. 4, [ 
 
 
 43 
 
 5, 443 
 
 v. 48 . 
 
 • 417 
 
 
 liii. 7 . . 
 
 
 400 
 
 Ezek. i. 19, 20 
 
 • • 427 
 
 i. 11 . 
 
 
 
 464 
 
 vi. 2 . 
 
 • 469 
 
 
 liii. 8 . . 
 
 
 610 
 
 xi. 19, 20 
 
 • • 328 
 
 i. 13 . 
 
 
 
 425 
 
 vi. 12 . . 
 
 500, 530 
 
 
 lv. II . . 
 
 
 525 
 
 xiii. 9 . 
 
 • • 472 
 
 ii. 24, 25 
 
 
 
 488 
 
 vi. 14 . . 
 
 • 5°o 
 
 
 lvii. 15 . 
 
 
 5Si 
 
 xvi. 3 . 
 
 • • 322 
 
 iv. 8, 9 
 
 
 
 3i3 
 
 vi. iS, 3 . 
 
 • 469 
 
 
 Iviii. 3, 13, 14 
 
 
 xvi. 42 
 
 • • 358 
 
 vii. 1 . 
 
 
 
 281 
 
 vi. 19 . 
 
 • 3°6 
 
 
 492, 5°9, 545 
 
 xvi. 49 
 
 .235, 521 
 
 vii. 17-21 
 
 
 
 384 
 
 vi. 21 . 
 
 • 3°4 
 
 
 lviii. 3-9 . . 398, 509 
 
 xvi. 52 
 
 • • 521 
 
 ix. 15 . 
 
 
 
 363 
 
 vi. 22 (bis) 
 
 • 309 
 
 
 lviii. 6, 9 . 
 
 398. 509 
 
 xviii. 25 
 
 • • 543 
 
 x. 1 
 
 
 
 281 
 
 vi. 23 . 309 ( 
 
 bis), 522 
 
 
 lviii. 11, 12 
 
 • 442 
 
 xviii. 31 
 
 . 426 
 
 xi. 17 . 
 
 
 
 542 
 
 vi. 24 . 
 
 • 253 
 
 
 lviii. 13, 14 
 
 492, 545 
 
 xx. 25 . 
 
 •517, 52i 
 
 Ecclus. ii. 1 
 
 
 
 231 
 
 vii. 1, 2 . 
 
 • 244 
 
 
 ( lix. 1, 2 . 
 
 • 526 
 
 xx. 43, 44 
 
 • • 434 
 
 ii. 5 . 
 
 
 
 37i 
 
 vii. 3-5 • 
 
 • 259 
 
 
 lx. 17-20 . 
 
 • 301 
 
 xxiv. 1 1 — 1 
 
 3 • • 358 
 
 m- 33 • 
 
 
 
 499 
 
 vii. 6. 
 
 
 
 lxi. 3 . . 
 
 • 234 
 
 xxviii. 1 1- 
 
 iS . 378 
 
 xi. 30 . 
 
 
 
 360 
 
 372, 
 
 373, 444 
 
 
 lxi. 8 . . 
 
 . 512 
 
 xxix. 3 
 
 . . 2S2 
 
 xv. 9 . 
 
 
 
 443 
 
 vii". 7 . 
 
 . 284 
 
 
 lxiv. 1 . 
 
 5S7, 588 
 
 xxxiii. 11 
 
 bis) . 423 
 
 xxiii. 29 
 
 
 
 273 
 
 vii. 11 
 
 • 52i 
 
 
 lxiv. 5, 6 . 
 
 521, 529 
 
 xxxiii. 13- 
 
 16 . 472 
 
 xxv. 5 
 
 
 
 313 
 
 vii. 14 
 
 • 232 
 
 
 lxv. 2 . 
 
 • 33o 
 
 xxxiii. 14, 
 
 15 . 471 
 
 xxvii. 11 
 
 
 
 355 
 
 vii. 18 
 
 . 521 
 
 
 lxv. 24 
 
 . 426 
 
 xiiv. 2 (bi 
 
 5) . . 616 
 
 xxix. 6 
 
 
 
 234 
 
 vii. 22, 23 
 
 
 
 Ixvi. 1 
 
 . 258 
 
 Dan. iii. 6 . 
 
 . . 23S 
 
 xxix. 15 
 
 
 
 398 
 
 
 445, 44S 
 
 
 Ixvi. 18 263, 
 
 363* 464 
 
 iii. 86 . . 
 
 • 3° l 
 
 xxxii. 20 
 
 
 
 444 
 
 vii. 24, 59 
 
 • 485 
 
 
 lxvi. 23 
 
 300, 513 
 
 v. 2 . . 
 
 ■ • 199 
 
 xxxiii. 16 
 
 
 
 521 
 
 vii. 29 
 
 
 • 613 
 
 
 Ixvi. 24 . 
 
 • 373 
 
 vi. 10 . 
 
 • • 213 
 
 xxxiii. 29 
 
 
 
 274 
 
 viii. 3 . 
 
 
 • 432 
 
 
 lxv. 17, 18 . 
 
 • 3°° 
 
 ix. 27 . . 
 
 • • 377 
 
 xxxiv. 1 1 
 
 
 
 395 
 
 viii. 8 . 
 
 
 • 432 
 
 
 lxvi. 2. 
 
 . 290 
 
 x. 2 sq. . 
 
 • • 399 
 
 xxxix. 16 
 
 
 
 521 
 
 viii. 9 . 
 
 
 • 3 6 3 
 
 Jer. 
 
 i. 5. . . . 
 
 386, 576 
 
 x. 5 . . 
 
 • • 304 
 
 I.24. . 
 
 
 
 5i5 
 
 viii. 7—10 
 
 
 • 43i 
 
 
 i. 10 . 
 
 • 43 6 
 
 x. 12-14 . 
 
 • • 3So 
 
 Baruch iii. 37 . 
 
 
 
 5Si 
 
 viii. 13 
 
 
 432, 433 
 
 
 i. 18, 19 . 
 
 485, 543 
 
 X. 20, 21 . 
 
 • • 380, 
 
 iii. 1 . 
 
 
 
 234 
 
 viii. 21 sq 
 
 
 • 505 
 
 
 ii. 11 . . 
 
 • 403 
 
 xii. 1 . 
 
 . . 380 
 
 iii. 11. 
 
 
 34 
 
 5, 364 
 
 viii. 31 
 
 
 • 370 
 
 
 ii. iS . . . 
 
 • 542 
 
 xii. 3 . . 
 
 • • 439 ! 
 
 i". 37, 38 • 
 
 
 57S 
 
 ix. 2-6 
 
 
 • 433 
 
 
 ii. 19 . 525, 
 
 528, 542 
 
 Hos. ii. 5-7 . 
 
 . 426 
 
 Cant. i. 3 (bis) 
 
 
 240 
 
 ix. 4 . 
 
 
 3°4, 3 6 3 
 
 
 ii. 30 . . . 
 
 • 358 
 
 iv. 6 
 
 • • 443 
 
 i. 16 . . . 
 
 
 264 
 
 ix. 6 . 
 
 
 • 613 
 
 
 iii. 6 . 
 
 • 440 
 
 iv. 12 . . 
 
 • 374, 44i 
 
 ii. 4 . . 
 
 
 
 454 
 
 ix. 14 . 
 
 
 • 5ii 
 
 
 iii. 11. . . 
 
 . 521 
 
 vii. 9 . 
 
 •314, 53 6 
 
 ii. 6 . . 
 
 
 
 357 
 
 ix. 15 . 
 
 
 242, 511 
 
 
 iii. 19, 20 
 
 . 426 
 
 vii. 12 . 
 
 • • 359 
 
 iii. I . . 
 
 
 
 43° 
 
 ix. 29 . 
 
 
 • 433 
 
 
 iv. 3 . . . 
 
 
 338 
 
 vii. 13 
 
 • • 525 i 
 
 v. 6 . . 
 
 
 
 43° 
 
 x. 8 . 
 
 
 445,613 
 
INDEX OF TEXTS. 
 
 639 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 S. Matt. x. 9 . . . 541 
 
 S. Matt. xxv. 31 . . 615 
 
 S. Luke xxi. 34 . . 388 
 
 S. John xv. 14, 15 . 420 
 
 x. 10 . . .270, 541 
 
 xxv. 34 . . 299, 394 
 
 xxii. 31, 32 . . 327 
 
 xv. 15 . . . . 421 
 
 x. 20 . . . . 304 
 
 xxv. 35 . . 299, 308 
 
 xxii. 36 . . . 376 
 
 xv. 19 . 
 
 • • 322 
 
 x. 23 . . . . 376 
 
 xxv. 36 . . . 308 
 
 xxii. 48 456 
 
 xvi. 15 
 
 417, 544 
 
 x. 36 . . . . 487 
 
 xxvi. 24 . .353, 463 
 
 xxiii. 29 . . . 576 
 
 xvi. 20 
 
 • • 3 DI 
 
 x. 38 . . . 230, 376 
 
 xxvi. 39 . 393, 399, 
 
 xxiii. 34 . .393, 419 
 
 xvii. 3 
 
 • 574 
 
 x. 42 . . . . 299 
 
 400, 452, 541, 545 
 
 xxiii. 40 . . . 283 
 
 xvii. 4, 19 
 
 • • 393 
 
 xi. 12 . . .365, 545 
 
 xxvi. 41 . . . 422 
 
 xxiii. 43 . . . 301 
 
 xvii. 16 
 
 • • 322 
 
 xi. 14 . . . . 377 
 
 xxvi. 53 • ■ • 282 
 
 xxiv. 39 . . . 569 
 
 xvii. 22-24 
 
 . . 404 
 
 xi. 25, 26 . . 393 
 
 xxvii. 42 . . . 609 
 
 S. John i. 3. . .378,574 
 
 xvii. 24 
 
 • 393 
 
 xi. 28-30 . . 
 
 S. Mark vi. 5, 6 .433, 445 
 
 i. 11 . . .575, 578 
 
 xvii. 26, 21 
 
 . . 404 
 
 425, 427, 448, 543 
 
 ix. 23 . . . . 327 
 
 i- 14 • 333. 552, 597 
 
 xix. 1 1 
 
 • • 37o 
 
 xi. 29 . 
 
 x. 29, 30 . . . 544 
 
 i. 15 . . . . 601 
 
 xx. 17 . 
 
 . 614 
 
 282, 495, 542 
 
 xi. 24 . . . . 398 
 
 1.17 ... . 558 
 
 xx. 28 
 
 
 569, 599 
 
 xi. 30 .... 541 
 
 xvi. 17 . . . 613 
 
 i. 29 . . . 578, 608 
 
 Acts i. 1. 
 
 
 •393, 439 
 
 xii. 20 ... 315 
 
 S. Luke i. 14 . . . 353 
 
 i. 32 . . .611, 613 
 
 i. 2 . 
 
 
 . 611, 614 
 
 xii. 35 • • • 521 
 
 i. 35 .... 
 
 ii. 19 . . . . 400 
 
 ii. 14- 
 
 8 . 
 
 • • 213 
 
 xii. 40 ... 601 
 
 341, 554 (bis), 560 
 
 ii. 23 . . . . 598 
 
 ii. 45 
 
 
 . . 480 
 
 xii. 43-45 . . 350 
 
 ii. 11 . . 
 
 iii.! 6 .... 597 
 
 iii. 1 
 
 
 . . 214 
 
 xiii. 13 . .429, 523 
 
 557, 573, 578 
 
 iii. 13 . 302, 574, 587, 
 
 iii. 6 
 
 
 •433) 6l2 
 
 xiii. 17 . . . 5S7 
 
 111. 6 .... 333 
 
 600, 604, 614 
 
 iii. 12 
 
 
 . . 448 
 
 xiv. 14 . . . 433 
 
 iv. 6 . . (bis) 282 
 
 iii. 17 . . . . 573 
 
 iii. 15 
 
 
 . 604 
 
 xiv. 21 . . . 516 
 
 iv. 9, 10 . . 341, 610 
 
 iii. 27 ... . 427 
 
 iii. 19 
 
 
 • • 499 
 
 xv. 1 1 . . . 510 
 
 iv. 23 . . . 259, 458 
 
 iv. 34 • • • • 273 
 
 iv. 13 
 
 
 • 444 
 
 xv. 14 . . . 338 
 
 iv. 27 . . . . 445 
 
 iv. 48-50 ... 433 
 
 iv- 32-34 • 
 
 . . 206 
 
 xv. 19 ... 520 
 
 vi. 24 ... . 324 
 
 iv. 50 . . . . 613 
 
 iv. 32 . . 
 
 
 xv. 28 . . . 433 
 
 vi. 25 .... 301 
 
 v. 6 . . .432, 433 
 
 206, 452, 
 
 480, 577 
 
 xv. 32 . . . 427 
 
 vi. 48 . . . . 387 
 
 v. 6-S ... 433 
 
 iv. 34, 35 • 
 
 206, 480 
 
 xvi. 4 ... 570 
 
 vii. 14 . . . . 613 
 
 v. 14 . . . . 358 
 
 v. . . 
 
 • • 256 
 
 xvi. 16 
 
 vii. 47 . . . . 392 
 
 v. 22, 23 . . . 565 
 
 v. 3 • • 
 
 • 3°4 
 
 56S, 599, 608 
 
 ix. 23 . . . . 533 
 
 v. 30 . 2S2 (bis), 284 
 
 vn. 39, 40 
 
 • 323 
 
 xvi. 25 . . . 504 
 
 ix. 49, 50 . . . 448 
 
 v. 44 . . . . 278 
 
 vii. 51. . 
 
 • 423 
 
 xvi. 26 ... 541 
 
 ix.62 . 
 
 vi. 27 . . . . 273 
 
 viii. 22, 23 
 
 • • 429 
 
 xvii. 19 . . . 398 
 
 231, 253, 256 
 
 vi. 33 . • . 525, 526 
 
 ix. 6 . 
 
 • 316 
 
 xvii. 20 . . . 399 
 
 x. 19 . . . 
 
 vi. 38 . 452, 492, 545 
 
 ix. 34 . . 
 
 . 612 
 
 xviii. 3 206 
 
 374,602, 613 
 
 vi. 44 . . .426, 427 
 
 x. II sq. . 
 
 • 213 
 
 xviii. 8 305 
 
 x. 20 . . . . 
 
 vi. 62 ... . 5S7 
 
 xii. 8 . . 
 
 . 201 
 
 xviii. 10 . . . 381 
 
 448, 449, 472 
 
 vi. 63 . . . 574, 600 
 
 xii. 15 . 
 
 • 382 
 
 xviii. 11. . . 399 
 
 x. 40-42 . . . 298 
 
 vii. iS. . . . 393 
 
 xiv. 22 
 
 • 232 
 
 xviii. 14 . 425 
 
 x. 41, 42 . . . 520 
 
 vii. 37. . . . 430 
 
 XV. 10, II 
 
 558, 584 
 
 xviii. 19 . . . 398 
 
 xi. 8 . . . . 398 
 
 viii. 34 . .239, 516 
 
 xv. 20 . 
 
 • 254 
 
 xix. 6 . . . . 586 
 
 xi. 9, 10 . . . 399 
 
 viii. 35 . . . 421 
 
 xv. 29 . 
 
 . 481 
 
 xix. 12 ... 506 
 
 xi. 15 . . . . 380 
 
 viii. 40, 42 . . 584 
 
 xvi. 18 
 
 . 612 
 
 xix. 21 . 253, 256, 
 
 xi. 19 . . . . 3S1 
 
 viii. 44 . . . 322, 
 
 xvii. 23, 29 
 
 . 468 
 
 320, 323, 376, 
 
 xi. 20 . . . . 611 
 
 381, 383, 386 (bis) 
 
 xviii. 1-3 . 
 
 . 272 
 
 5°4, 5°5> 521 
 
 xii. 20 . . . . 257 
 
 viii. 55 . . 282 
 
 xx. 28 . . 
 
 . 604 
 
 xix. 27 . . . 325 
 
 xii. 32 . . . . 232 
 
 viii. 58 . . 5S4, 593 
 
 xx. 29, 30 
 
 • 44t 
 
 xix. 28 . . . 
 
 xii. 35 . . . 204, 376 
 
 ix. 3 . . . . 35S 
 
 xx - 33-35 
 
 . 272 
 
 301, 325, 583 
 
 xii. 47 . . . . 418 
 
 x. iS . 214, 399, 587 
 
 xx. 34. . 
 
 
 xix. 29 . . . 
 
 xii. 49. ... 545 
 
 xi. 4 . . . . 358 
 
 203, 272, 522, 536 
 
 504, 506, 543 
 
 xii. 57. . . .429 
 
 xi. 26 . . . . 322 
 
 xx - 35 253,272,288 
 
 xx. 1-6 . . . 214 
 
 xiv. 19 sq. . . 324 
 
 xi. 27 . 567, 599, 608 
 
 xxi. 11 ... 202 
 
 xx. 16 . . . . 232 
 
 xiv. 26 507, 516, 532 
 
 xi. 40 . . . . 432 
 
 xxi. 20-24 
 
 • 467 
 
 xx. 28 . . . . 399 
 
 xiv. 28 . . . 387 
 
 xi. 41, 42 . . 393 
 
 xxvi. 12-15 
 
 • 563 
 
 xx. 31 . . . . 329 
 
 xiv. 31, 32 . . 253 
 
 xii. 26 . . 301, 501 
 
 Rom. i. 20 . 
 
 • 521 
 
 xx. 32 .... 432 
 
 xv. 17-19 . . 417 
 
 xii. 32 . . . . 214 
 
 i. 23 . . . 
 
 • 403 
 
 xxi. 13 ... 602 
 
 xvi. 9 . . . . 353 
 
 xiii. 2 . . . 304, 367 
 
 i. 26, 2S . . 
 
 
 xxi. 22 (bis). . 399 
 
 xvi. 12 ... 324 
 
 xiii. 8 . 462 
 
 286, 
 
 329, 358 
 
 xxii. 14 . . . 323 
 
 xvi. 19 sq. . . 301 
 
 xiii. 23 . .454, 530 
 
 i. 28 . . . 
 
 
 xxii. 31, 32 . . 301 
 
 xvi. 20 . . . 353 
 
 xiii. 27 . . . 304 
 
 286, 329, 
 
 358, 4S9 
 
 xxiii. 3, 4 . . 439 
 
 xvi. 25 . . . 532 
 
 xiii. 34, I 
 
 ii. 5 . . . 
 
 • 373 
 
 xxiii. 37 . . . 420 
 
 xvi. 26 320 
 
 385, 448, 454 
 
 ii. 6 . . . 
 
 . 426 
 
 xxiv. 13 . . . 231 
 
 xvii. 5 . . . . 377 
 
 xiii. 35 . .448, 452 
 
 ii. 14-16 . . 
 
 . 428 
 
 xxiv. 15 sq. . . 377 
 
 xvii. 10 ... 417 
 
 xiv. 2 . . . . 420 
 
 ii. 15 . . . 
 
 
 xxiv. 18 . . . 231 
 
 xvii. 20 300 
 
 xiv. 6 . . . ■ 581 
 
 263, 363, 
 
 464, 473 
 
 xxiv. 24 . . . 446 
 
 xvii. 21 . . 300, 487 
 
 xiv. 10 282 (bis) 284 
 
 ii. 15, 16 . . 
 
 
 xxiv. 35 . . . 569 
 
 xvii. 31 ... 256 
 
 xiv. 23 240, 304, 581 
 
 263, 
 
 363, 464 
 
 xxiv. 45 . . . 420 
 
 xviii. 19 . 521 
 
 xiv. 30 360, 374, 539 
 
 ii. 28, 29 . . 
 
 • 518 
 
 xxiv. 46 . 420 
 
 xviii. 42 . . . 433 
 
 xv. 4 (bis) . . 328 
 
 iii. 23 . . . 
 
 • 425 
 
 xxv. 21 . . . 521 
 
 xix. 10 . . . 575 
 
 
 iv. 5 . . . 
 
 • 525 
 
 xxv. 27 444 
 
 xix. 17, 19 . . 301 
 
 xv. 13 . . . . 420 
 
 v. 5 . 
 
 
 454, S 1 ^ 
 
640 
 
 JOHN CASSIAN. 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Rom. v. 12 
 
 • 425 
 
 1 Cor. vii. 5 
 
 . 468 
 
 2 Cor. vi. 1 ... 429 
 
 E P h - v. 3-5 •• • 344 
 
 vi. 14 . . . 
 
 • 516 
 
 vii. 8, 9 . 
 
 • 344 
 
 vi. 5, 6 . . . 444 
 
 v. 25-30 . . . 5S6 
 
 vi. 15 . . . 
 
 • 518 
 
 vii. 29 . 
 
 . 516 
 
 vi. 7 . 276, 316, 355 , 
 
 vi. 12 ... . 
 
 vi. 22 . 
 
 . 296 
 
 viii. 6 . 
 
 
 vi. 8 . . . . 276 
 
 240, 241, 369, 374, 
 
 vii. 12 . . 
 
 . 521 
 
 574, 599 
 
 600, 606 
 
 vi. 7-10 ... 355 
 
 375, 376, 380, 431 
 
 vii. 14. 
 
 • 526 
 
 viii. 38 
 
 . 468 
 
 vi. 14, 15 .349, 442 
 
 vi. 16 . . .364, 554 
 
 vii. 18 . 429, 
 
 519. 527 
 
 ix. 11 . . 
 
 • 503 
 
 vi. 16 . . . . 580 
 
 vi- 17 • 364, 5 OI > 554 
 
 vii. 19 . 
 
 502, 527 
 
 ix. 14 . . 
 
 . 270 
 
 vi. 17 ... . 61S 
 
 Phil. i. 22-24 • • • 522 
 
 vii. 22, 23 
 
 • 525 
 
 ix. 20-22 . 
 
 • 467 
 
 vii. 10 249, 266, 506 
 
 i. 23 . . . . 302 
 
 vii. 24 . 
 
 • 5°2 
 
 ix. 24 . . . 
 
 427, 506 
 
 viii. 9 . 2S2 (bis), 597 
 
 i. 29 . . . . 327 
 
 vii. 24, 25 
 
 525-527 
 
 ix. 25 . . 
 
 • 237 
 
 ix. 10 . . . . 423 
 
 ii. 1-3 ... 453 
 
 viii. 1 . 
 
 • 527 
 
 ix. 26 . 239, 
 
 241, 369 
 
 x. I .... 529 
 
 ii. 6-8 . 282, 289, 575 
 
 viii. 2 . 
 
 527,528 
 
 ix. 27 . 
 
 239, 241 
 
 x. 4, 5 ... 602 
 
 ii. 7 . 5S8, 597, 599 
 
 viii. 3 . . 
 
 • 572 
 
 x. 1-4 . . 
 
 • 438 
 
 xi. 2 . . . . 441 
 
 11. 8 . 492, 597, 599 
 
 viii. 9 . 
 
 333, 565 
 
 x. 2-8 . . 
 
 . 271 
 
 xi. 3 . . . . 441 
 
 ii. 10, 11 . . . 57S 
 
 viii. 15 
 
 . 421 
 
 x. 4-6 . 
 
 • 364 
 
 xi. 4 . . . . 304 
 
 ii. 12 . . . 427, 429 
 
 viii. 18 
 
 • 43° 
 
 x. 6 . . 
 
 • 347 
 
 xi. 9 . . . . 254 
 
 ii. 13 . 282, 426, 429 
 
 viii. 26 .399, 
 
 423, 454 
 
 x. 9 . . 
 
 347, 584 
 
 xi. 14 . . . . 453 
 
 iii. 13 . . 239, 297, 
 
 viii. 27 
 
 • 454 
 
 X. IO . 
 
 • 347 
 
 xi. 27 . . . . 541 
 
 327, 3S9, 501 
 
 viii. 28 355 ( 
 
 bis), 542 
 
 X. 12 . . 
 
 • 43i 
 
 xi. 29 . . . 468,- 520 
 
 in. 14 . 239, 276, 297 
 
 viii. 32 
 
 . 400 
 
 x- 13 • 239, 
 
 241,328, 
 
 xii. 2, 4 . . . 469 
 
 iii. 19 . . .276, 519 
 
 viii - 33, 34 
 
 • 565 
 
 332, 369, 
 
 390, 43 ! 
 
 xii. 8, 9 . . . 399 
 
 iii. 20, 21 . . 322 
 
 viii. 38, 39 
 
 • 376 
 
 x. 24 . . 
 
 . 466 
 
 xii. 9, 10 . . . 
 
 iii. 20 . . . 
 
 322 
 
 j x - 3 • 393. 
 
 522, 529 
 
 x. 32 . . 
 
 . 46S 
 
 353, 364, 399 
 
 iv. 6 . 
 
 
 393 
 
 ix. 4 . 
 
 • 522 
 
 x - 33 • • 
 
 466, 468 
 
 xii. 8 .... 423 
 
 iv. 7 . 
 
 
 427 
 
 ix. 3-5 . 
 
 • 561 
 
 xi. 7 . . 
 
 • 302 
 
 xii. 9 . . .423, 4S5 
 
 iv. 1 1 . 
 
 
 344 
 
 ix. 16 . 282, 
 
 33i> 426 
 
 xi. 13 . . 
 
 • 438 
 
 xii. 10 . . . 541 
 
 iv. 11-13 
 
 
 357 
 
 ix. 20 . 
 
 • 603 
 
 xii. 8-10 . 
 
 • 446 
 
 xii. 13, 16 . . 529 
 
 iv. 16 . 
 
 
 254 
 
 ix. 28 . 
 
 • 590 
 
 xii. 8-1 1 . 
 
 • 3°S 
 
 xiii. 3 . 304, 564, 5S0 
 
 Col. i. 12-20 
 
 
 583 
 
 x. 2 . . 
 
 205, 376 
 
 xii. 11 
 
 • 434 
 
 xiii. 5 . . . . 5S0 
 
 i. 16 . 
 
 •378, 599 
 
 x. 21 . . 
 
 • 429 
 
 xii. 26 . 
 
 373,6i8 
 
 xiii. 9 .... 394 
 
 ii. 3 . 
 
 • • 443 
 
 xi. 14 . 
 
 333 
 
 xii. 28 . . 
 
 • 43 6 
 
 Gal. i. 1 . 400, 562, 606 
 
 ii. 9 . 
 
 . 580, 606 
 
 *i- 33 • • 
 
 .432,434 
 
 xii. 31. . 
 
 421,446 
 
 i. 4 .... 400 
 
 ii. 14, 15 
 
 .213, 576 
 
 xi. 34 . . 
 
 • 434 
 
 xiii. 1-8 . 
 
 . 421 
 
 ii. 2 . . . . 316 
 
 ii. 21 . 
 
 . 441, 618 
 
 xii. 1 . 
 
 • 512 
 
 xiii. 3 . . 
 
 •297,323 
 
 ii. 9, 10 . . . 254 
 
 ii. 23 . 
 
 . . 61S 
 
 xii. 4-8 . 
 
 • 436 
 
 xiii. 4-7 . 
 
 323,419 
 
 ii. iS . . . 231, 46S 
 
 111. 3 . 
 
 • • 203 
 
 xii. 10 . 
 
 • 453 
 
 xiii. 5 . . 
 
 458, 466 
 
 ii. 19 . . . . 467 
 
 iii. 5 . 
 
 203, 204, 
 
 xii. 19 . 
 
 • 459. 
 
 xiii. 7 . 
 
 364, 459 
 
 ii. 20 . 203, 230, 541 
 
 2 
 
 50, 28S, 344 
 
 xii. 21 . 
 
 • 45S 
 
 xiii. 8 . 
 
 300,416 
 
 iii. 19 . . . . 521 
 
 iii. 8 . 
 
 • • 344 
 
 xiii. 14 
 
 
 xiii. 13 . 
 
 • 4i7 
 
 iii. 24 . . . . 3S5 
 
 iii. 9 . 
 
 . . 466 
 
 204, 236, 
 
 273> 348 
 
 xiv. 6 . 
 
 • 438 
 
 iv. 4 . . . 572, 593 
 
 iii. 10 . 
 
 • • 3° 2 
 
 xiv. 3 . . 
 
 . 46S 
 
 xiv. 15 
 
 . 209 
 
 iv. 4, 5 . . . 438 
 
 I Thes. ii. iS 
 
 • • 423 
 
 xiv. 10, 4 . 
 
 244, 564 
 
 xv. 3-5 . 
 
 • 438 
 
 iv. 10 . . . . 441 
 
 iv. 9, 10 
 
 . . 268 
 
 xiv. 10, 11 
 
 244, 564 
 
 XV. 10 . 
 
 282, 430 
 
 iv. 22-27 • • • 438 
 
 iv. 11 . 2 
 
 z6, 274 (bis) 
 
 xiv. 14 
 
 . 50S 
 
 xv. 19 . . 
 
 • 352 
 
 iv. 26 . . . 542, 587 
 
 iv. 12-15 
 
 • • 438 
 
 xiv. 17 
 
 300, 301 
 
 xv. 24 . 
 
 . 380 
 
 v. 2 . . . 467, 529 
 
 v. 4 . 
 
 • • 257 
 
 XV. I . 
 
 • 458 
 
 xv. 28. . 
 
 
 v. 13 • • • • 5i8 
 
 v. 8 .273, 364 (bis) 
 
 xx. 25-27 
 
 • 253 
 
 235,301, 
 
 365, 403 
 
 v. 17 . 299, 332, 333 
 
 v. 17 . . . . 
 
 I Cor. i. 5 . . 
 
 • 273 
 
 xv. 33 . . 
 
 • 273 
 
 v. 19 . . . . 340 
 
 205, 261, 388, 
 
 i. 6-9 . 
 
 • 566 
 
 xv. 40 . 
 
 • 367 
 
 v. 22, 23 . . . 266 
 
 390, 409, 523 
 
 i. 22-24 . 
 
 • 565 
 
 xv. 41, 42 
 
 . 420 
 
 v. 24 . . . . 531 
 
 2 Thes. iii. 6 269,271,274 
 
 i. 23, 24 . 
 
 • 596 
 
 xv. 44 . . 
 
 299, 367 
 
 v. 26 . . . . 27S 
 
 ii. 15. 16 . . . 32S 
 
 i. 30 . . 
 
 235, 6l 2 
 
 xv. 50 . . 
 
 •333, 5oi 
 
 vi. 1 . . . . 337 
 
 iii. 7, 9 ... 536 
 
 11. 3 . . 
 
 . 46S 
 
 xv. 53 • • 
 
 • 299 
 
 vi. 2 . . .419, 45S 
 
 iii. 8 . 203, 270, 522 
 
 ii. 6, 8. . 
 
 . 606 
 
 xvi. 1-4 . 
 
 
 253 
 
 vi. 10 ... 454 
 
 iii. 10 . . .203, 536 
 
 ii. 8 . . 
 
 60O, 606 
 
 xvi. 5, 7 . 
 
 
 470 
 
 vi. 14 . 203, 230, 531 
 
 iii. 11 . . . . 274 
 
 ii. 14, 15 . 
 
 ■ 337 
 
 xvi. 23 . 
 
 
 559 
 
 Eph. ii. 3 . . . 322, 340 
 
 1 Tim. i. 7 ... 588 
 
 iii. 2, 3 . 
 
 • 337, 468 
 
 2 Cor. i. 15-17, 2 
 
 3 
 
 470 
 
 ii. 8, 9 ... 426 
 
 i. 9 . . .385,515 
 
 iii. 7 . 
 
 • 429 
 
 ii. 1 . . 
 
 
 470 
 
 iii. 16, 17 . 242, 5S0 
 
 i. 10 . . . . 515 
 
 iii. S . . 
 
 • 532 
 
 ii. 7 . . 
 
 
 444 
 
 iv. 1 • • • • 577 
 
 i. 15 . . . . 575 
 
 iii. 16 . 
 
 264, 5S0 
 
 ii. 27 . 
 
 
 253 
 
 iv. 10 , . .575, 59S 
 
 i. 20 . . . . 211 
 
 iii. iS . . 
 
 • 233 
 
 iii. 5, 6 . 
 
 
 327 
 
 iv. 12 . . . . 347 
 
 ii. 1 .... 391 
 
 iii. 22 . 
 
 •417, 544 
 
 iii. 10 . 
 
 
 521 
 
 iv. 13 ... . 
 
 ii. 1, 2 ... 392 
 
 iv. 5 . . 
 
 • 234 
 
 iii. 17 . . 
 
 
 5i8 
 
 235, 3 6 5 (bis), 505 
 
 ii. 4 .... 
 
 iv. 7 . . 
 
 282, 328 
 
 iv, 17 . 
 
 
 430 
 
 iv. 19 . . .347, 359 
 
 394, 423, 445, 452 
 
 iv. 20 . 
 
 . . 446 
 
 iv. 18' . . 
 
 •3 2 
 
 2,325 
 
 iv. 23 . . . . 35S 
 
 ii. 8 . 261, 3S8, 390 
 
 v. 5 . . 
 
 .211, 372 
 
 v. 1 . . 
 
 
 322 
 
 iv. 26 ... . 
 
 iii. 16 . 587, 6il, 612 
 
 vi. 9, 10 . 
 
 • • 527 
 
 v. 6 . . 
 
 
 302 
 
 260, 309, 452, 455 
 
 iv. I, 2 . . . 374 
 
 vi. 11 . . 
 
 . . 612 
 
 V. 10 . 
 
 
 564 
 
 iv. 28 . . . . 272 
 
 iv. 3, 4 . . . 50S 
 
 vi. 16 . . 
 
 . 264 
 
 v. 16 . 403 
 
 440, 561 
 
 iv. 31 . 259, 347, 348 
 
 iv. S . 299, 464, 473 
 
 vi. 17 . . 
 
 • • 365 
 
 v. 19 . . 
 
 56 
 
 1, 577 
 
 v. 3, 4 ... 34S 
 
 iv. 14 . . 
 
 
 429 
 

 
 
 INDEX OF TEXTS. 
 
 
 
 64I 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 
 301 
 
 Heb. vii. 18 . 
 
 • 517 
 
 S. James i. 19 . 
 
 • 439 
 
 1 John iv. 4 
 
 • • 365 
 
 vi. 7 • 
 
 
 S4i 
 
 vii. 19 
 
 515. 517 
 
 i. 20 . 
 
 • 257 
 
 iv. 12 . 
 
 • • 573 
 
 vi. 8 . 202, 
 
 256 
 
 348 
 
 ix. 4, 5 . 
 
 • 440 
 
 ii. 13 . . . 
 
 ■ 395 
 
 iv. 14 . 
 
 • • 573 
 
 vi. 8-10 . 
 
 
 251 
 
 ix. 22 
 
 • 50I 
 
 ii. 14 . 
 
 • 446 
 
 iv. 16 . 
 
 404, 454 
 
 vi. 10 . . 
 
 
 
 x. 36 . . 
 
 • 3 6 4 
 
 iv. 6 . 
 
 281 
 
 iv. 17 . . 
 
 • 419 
 
 249, 250, 
 
 288 
 
 341 
 
 xi. 5 . . 
 
 • 322 
 
 iv. 7 
 
 365 
 
 iv. 18 . . 
 
 
 vi. 16 . 
 
 
 258 
 
 xi. 16 . . 
 
 • 3 QI 
 
 iv. 8 . . . 
 
 426 
 
 232, 417, 
 
 420, 421 
 
 vi. 17-19 . 
 
 3 2 4 
 
 353 
 
 xi. 24-26 . 
 
 . 420 
 
 iv. 1 1 . 
 
 455 
 
 iv. 19 . . 
 
 • 417 
 
 vi. 20 . 
 
 
 443 
 
 xi. 37, 38- 
 
 
 v. 14, 15 . . 
 
 500 
 
 v. 16 . 399, 
 
 419, 500 
 
 
 
 429 
 
 203, 
 
 482, 506 
 
 v. 20 . 
 
 500 
 
 v. 18 . . 
 
 • 4i9 
 
 i. 7 . . 
 
 
 421 
 
 xi. 39, 40 
 
 • 373 
 
 1 Pet. iv. 8 . . .41 
 
 6, 499 
 
 2 John viii. 34 
 
 • 238 
 
 11. 4 . . 
 
 
 267 
 
 xii. 5-8 . 
 
 • 358 
 
 ii. 16 . . . 
 
 5i8 
 
 S. Jude 5 . . 
 
 • 5S4 
 
 ii. 5 . . 
 
 
 237 
 
 xii. 6 . 
 
 • 37i 
 
 ii. 22 . . . 
 
 422 
 
 6 . . . 
 
 • 378 
 
 iii. 12 . . 
 
 
 54i 
 
 xii. 6-1 1 . 
 
 • 354 
 
 2 Pet. ii. 19 . 
 
 238 
 
 Rev. iii. 15, 16 
 
 334, 337 
 
 iv. 7 . 
 
 240, 
 
 369 
 
 xii. 9 . 
 
 302, 386 
 
 1 John i. 1, 2 . . 
 
 582 
 
 iii. 16-18 . 
 
 • 324 
 
 iv. 8 . . 
 
 
 240 
 
 xii. 15 . . 
 
 • 489 
 
 i. 8 . 419, 502, 531 
 
 iii. 17 . 
 
 • 337 
 
 Titus ii. 1 1— 1 3 
 
 
 557 
 
 xii. 22, 23 
 
 • 3° 2 
 
 1. 8, 10 . .41 
 
 9, 502 
 
 iii. 19 . . 
 
 • 358 
 
 ii. 11 . . 
 
 
 558 
 
 xiii. 4 . 
 
 • 507 
 
 ii. 15-17 . . 
 
 524 
 
 iii. 20 . 
 
 . 240 
 
 Philemon, 9 
 
 
 577 
 
 xiii. 8 . 
 
 582, 599 
 
 ii. 23 . . . 
 
 565 
 
 iv. 4 . 
 
 • 53i 
 
 Heb. iv. 12 . 310, 
 
 364, 
 
 367 
 
 xiii. 20, 21 
 
 . 328 
 
 iii. 9 . . . 
 
 419 
 
 vi. 9, 10 . 
 
 • 3 QI 
 
 iv. 13 . . 
 
 
 367 
 
 S. James i. 8 . 
 
 • 252 
 
 iii. 15 . . . 
 
 263 
 
 xii. 4 . 
 
 • 378 
 
 iv. 15 . . 
 
 
 340 
 
 i. 12 . . 
 
 395> 485 
 
 iii. 16 . . . 
 
 400 
 
 
 
 v. 14 . 
 
 
 309 
 
 i. 14, 15 . 
 
 • 34o 
 
 iv 1 . . . 
 
 305 
 
 
 
 vii. 3 . . 
 
 
 609 
 
 i. 17 . 282, 
 
 328, 423 
 
 iv. 2, 3 . . 
 
 585