YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

THE SPIRIT AND ORIGIN OF
CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM

THE
SPIEIT AND OEIGIN OF
CHEISTIAN MONASTICISM

JAMES O. HANNAY, M.A.

METHUEN & CO.
36 ESSEX STREET W.C.
LONDON 1903

YALE

DWllH

D'

TO YOU
A. S. H.
MY FELLOW STUDENT
I DEDICATE WHATEVER IN THIS BOOK
IS NOT ALREADY YOURS
AS MUCH AS MINE

CONTENTS
Preface ..... page xiii
List of Authorities and Authors cited . „ xvii
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTORY — PROTESTANTISM AND THE ASCETIC SPIRIT
Divergence between Catholics and Protestants in their conception
of the Christian life— The Catholic ideal^the ascetic life — The
Protestant ideal — the life of good citizenship — Protestant
opposition to the Catholic ideal — The ascetic ideal unrepre
sented in English literature — objections to the ascetic ideal
easily understood in the case of philosophic historians — men
of science— liberal thinkers of the nineteenth century — Harder
to understand in the case of Protestantism, a religion. — Prob
able reasons — degeneracy of monks at the time of the
Reformation — Luther's assertion of "justification by faith
alone" — the humanist spirit which found for itself a home
in Protestantism — Protestantism has never succeeded in ex
pelling the ascetic ideal — Ascetic spirit of — the German and
Dutch Anabaptists — the Quakers — ^John Wesley and the
Methodists — the Shakers — the Plymouth Brethren — Tolstoi
and his followers — Study of the ascetic spirit in Christianity
to be approached from the historic standpoint . . pf^gs 3
CHAPTER II
ASCETICISM IN THE APOSTOLIC AGE
The Christian life in the apostolic age was highly ascetic —
Asceticism the refusal to compromise with the world— Two
beliefs which made for asceticism in this age— Expectation of
an immediate second advent — Belief in the reality and power
of demons — Demons regarded as ruling the world and the
Roman Empire — as existing in the forms of pagan idols —
Ascetic communism in the Church of Jerusalem — Early
Christian views of wealth and poverty — Fasting — virginity —
Philo's De Vii& Contemplhid quoted by Eusebius as a descrip
tion of Christian life shows that Eusebius must have regarded
the early Christians as ascetic — Early Christian asceticism in
stinctive, unreasoned, unorganised — flowed from love of a
desire to imitate Christ — Soon the growth of the Church
forced on her the question, " Must the Christian life be
ascetic?" — Difficulties of magistrates — soldiers — artists —
children of Christian parents — Importance of this question . 31

viii CONTENTS CHAPTER III
CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM IN THE SECOND AND THIRD CENTURIES
The Church's struggle with Gnosticism— Gnostic dualism resulted
in a kind of asceticism which was condemned by the Church
— Struggle with Montanism — A struggle about morality, not
doctrine — Montanist prophecy — The Church begins to compro
mise with the world — The Montanist protest — Their position
with regard to second marriage — They declare all Christian
life must be ascetic — They are condemned by the Church —
Another protest in Rome — Hippolytus protests against Callix-
tus. Bishop of Rome, and forms an ascetic schism — The
Novatian protest — The Church becomes a training school for
righteousness — Narcissus of Jerusalem the first hermit — The
ascetics of the pseudo-Clementine epistles — Ascetics mentioned
by Eusebius — Methodius' Banquet of the Ten Virgins —
Origen's ascetic teaching — poverty — virginity — deeds of mercy
— contemplation — He is far in advance of his contemporaries
— His influence more felt in after generations — Importance of
the study of asceticism in the second and third centuries for
a right understanding of later monasticism . . page 57
CHAPTER IV
ST. ANTONY AND EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM
Sketch of the life and character of St. Antony— Secrets of his
greatness — Other Egyptian hermits — Reasons for their adopt
ing the hermit life — Their attitude towards the Church — Their
aim a return to apostolic Christianity — Their retirement from
the world meant also a retirement from the Church — Their
lives lived at first literally alone with God — Gradual forma
tion of lauras and rules in Lower Egypt — Development of
common worship — Churches and priests in the desert — Upper
Egypt produced in the Pachomian monasteries far more
perfect organisation — St. Pachomius' rule — Two stories illus
trating the feeling of the monks for the clergy — Final close
union of the monks with the Church in Egypt — Causes 
Influence of St. Antony — St. Athanasius — Ascetics' insistence
on the virtue of obedience — Circumstances of the Egyptian

Church .

95

CONTENTS ix
CHAPTER V
THE LIFE AND IDEAL OP THE EGYPTIAN MONKS
List of eight principal faults — Gluttony— of two kinds — The
remedy is fasting — Estimate of the spiritual value of fasting
— Fornication — ' ' Angelica ordo " — Evil thoughts — How con
quered — The demon of impurity — This sin not overemphasised
by the monks — Avarice — Its opposite, poverty — True poverty
— Complete renunciation — Poverty and virginity necessary
for monastic life— Anger — no such thing as righteous anger —
Hermit life no safeguard against anger — The demon of anger
— Patience the opposite of anger — Dejection — Two kinds of
dejection — Depression — Despair — Terrible consequences of
despair — Accidie — Meaning of the word — Description of a
monk suffering from accidie — The remedy for accidie — Useless
remedies — Vainglory — Distinction between vainglory and
pride — It is an insidious fault — "Ama nesciri" — Pride — The
demon of pride — Its opposite is humility — High estimate of
this virtue — The highest expression of humility is discretion —
Meaning of discretion — More than sanctified common sense
— The discernment of spirits — Description of discretion by St.
Antony — by St. Marcarius . . . . page 135
CHAPTER VI
ST. BASIL AND EASTERN MONASTICISM
Contrast between Egyptian and Eastern monasticism — Prejudice
in the East against the monks — Ascetic eccentricities — Schis
matic tendencies — The Boskoi — The Remoboth — ^The Audiani
— TheEuchites — Eustathius of Sebaste — His dogmaticposition
— His monasticism — The Council of Gangra — The Cotistilu-
liones Ascelicae — Eustathius the friend of St. Basil — St. Basil's
sympathy with the monks — His quarrel with Eustathius — St.
Basil's work for monasticism — St. Basil not the author of a
monastic rule — Tone of his ascetic writings — Contrasted with
St. Benedict — St. Basil on (i) Silence, (2) Temperance, (3)
Work^Aim of his ascetic teaching — Connects asceticism with
the great truths of the creed — His preference for the coenobitic
life — His insistence on labour for monks — He moderates fasting
— Gradual acceptance of the Basilian ideal in the East —
Legislation, (i) ecclesiastical, (2) civil — The rule of Theodore
the Studite — Its influence — Contrast between Eastern and
Westem monasticism — Western monks the true heirs of St.
Basil's spirit . . . . . . 171

CONTENTS

CHAPTER VII
THE DEVELOPMENT OF WESTERN MONASTICISM UP TO THE
TIME OF ST. BENEDICT
Great importance of the history of Western monasticism —
Influence of St. Athanasius in the West— Monastic founda
tions in (i) Rome, (2) Northern Italy, (3) Southern Italy,
(4) Gaul, (5) the islands — Clerical patronage of Westem
monasticism — Hold of the movement upon the upper classes —
Intercourse between Eastern and Westem monks — Milder
discipline in the West — Tendency towards organisation —
Early Western rules — St. Augustine's rule for nuns — The in
fluence of Egypt through Cassian and of the East through
St. Basil— The rule of St. Benedict-— Compared with the
writings of St. Basil and the Institutes of Cassian — Six points
of advance — Their influence upon Westem monasticism page 203

CHAPTER VIII
THE BENEDICTINE RULE— ITS SPREAD AND ITS IDEAL
The Benedictine rule fixed the development of Westem monasti
cism — It became universal in the West — Monte Casino founded
— The spread of the rule — The influence of Gregory the Great
• — The destruction of Monte Casino — The mission to England
— Gregory's life of St. Benedict— The Benedictine rule super
sedes others — Receives practical modification — The influence of
St. Boniface — He is a missionary and a reformer — The restora
tion of Monte Casino — The Benedictine Order a vast brother
hood — Is it a true development of Egyptian monasticism ? —
The spirit of the rule — " Dominici schola servitii " — The power
and duty of the abbot — His care for erring souls — The obedi
ence of the monks — Their labour — Their scholarship— Their
charity and hospitality — Their \'irtues — The reception of new
members — Their renunciation of property — Their separation
from the world — Comparison of the Benedictine Order and
the Jesuit Society— -Superiority ofthe Benedictines — Causes of
their superiority — Condition of their time — -Spirit of their rule
— Modern Anglican monasticism . ... 227

CONTENTS xi
Appendix I. — Pre-Christian Asceticism and its connection with
the Christian Monastic Life ... . page 255
Appendix II. — On the Value of the Sources of early Egyptian
Monastic History made use of in Chapters IV. and V. . . 274
Appendix III. — The History and Meaning of the Patristic
Distinction between Counsels and Precepts . . . 2S7
Index . . . . ... 303

PREFACE

THE work which is here ofifered to the public is
based upon the Donnellan lectures delivered
before the University of Dublin in the chapel of
Trinity CoUege in 1 901-1902. The first four chapters
correspond to the first four lectures. The fifth
chapter is entirely new. Chapters vi. vii. and viii.
correspond to the fifth and sixth lectures. The
appendices are new.
The spirit and origin of monasticism is a subj'ect
which has received very little attention from English
writers. It is, of course, treated in standard Church
histories, but not satisfactorily. It has been made
the subj'ect of some chapters in a book recently
published under the title of Culture and Restraint.
This book might have been of some value if the
author had read the literature of early monasticism
before writing about it. Another English book. The
Rise of Christian Monasticism, suffers from an opposite
fault. The author has read the literature, but has
somehow failed to grasp the spirit which animated it.
I only know one other recent English book devoted

xiv

PREFACE

to the subject— Dom Cuthbert Butler's Prolegomena
to the Lausiac History. The author refuses to discuss
the monastic ideal, and confines himself to the con
sideration of facts and the criticism of literature.
This work is, in my opinion, the ablest recent con
tribution to the study of Egyptian monasticism made
either in England or elsewhere. I am deeply indebted
to this book.
If, however, my subject has received but little
attention in this country, it has during recent years
drawn from German and French scholars a whole
series of valuable works. I shall mention only the
names of the foUowing, to whom I feel especially
indebted — Zockler, Harnack, Grutzmacher, Ph.
Meyer, Spreitzenhofer, and Am^lineau. I have
referred in my notes to particular works of these
authors. These two facts — that my subject has occupied
English scholars very little and Continental scholars
a great deal — form my justification for publishing
this book.
I am conscious that I have little other justification.
I have worked under a double disadvantage. In the
first place, I live far from any centre of intellectual
life. The Rev. J. A. Bain helped me in selecting and
reading German authors. The Rev. W. M. Foley
read over a rough draft of the original lectures and
made some valuable suggestions. The Rev. C. S.
CoUins materially helped me in the work of verifying

PREFACE XV
references. Otherwise I have worked almost alone.
In the second place, I have only occasionally had
access to any great public library. One very fine
private library — that of the Marquis of Sligo — I
have had at my disposal, for which I am sincerely
grateful. I have also had the benefit, in buying, of
Mr. W. E. Kelly's experience and knowledge of
books. Even with these helps I have frequently felt
the want of books which I could only now and then
consult. I wish, finally, to express my gratitude to the
Dean of St. Patrick's, for the interest he has taken
in my work and his unvarying kindness and sympathy
in all that concerned it. J. O. H.
Westport, 1903

LIST OF AUTHORITIES AND AUTHORS
CITED
contractions used in the following list.
A.-N". Library = Ante-Nicene Christian Library. Translations of the writings of
the Fathers down to A.D. 325. Edinburgh. T. and T. Clark.
N. and P.-N. Library=A select library of Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the
Christian Church. Translated. New York. The Christian Literatiure
Company.
P. R. E. = R.ealencycIopadie fGr Protestantische Theologie und Kirche.
Migne, P. L. 1 _Cours complet de patrologie Latine et Greco-Latine. Paris. J. P.
Migne, P. G. ) Migne.
Abbey and Overton. The English. Churclt in tJte Eighteenth
Century. New edition. London, 1887.
Dictionnaire cTAscdtistne. Migne. Encyclopddie Th&logique,
vols. 45, 46.
A Kempis, Thomas. De Imitatione Christi.
Ambrose, St. De Virginibus — De officiis — De Viduis — Epistolae.
S. Ambrosii, omnia opera juxit. edit. Mon. S. Benedicti.
4 vols. Parisiis, 1836. Epistles translated in N. and
P.-N. Library.
Am^lineau. Vie de Schnoitdi. M^m. publ. par les membres
de la mission archdologique francaise au Caire. Tom. iv.
Paris, 1888.
Voyage d'un inoine egyptien dans le disert. Vienna, 1883.
Contes et Romans de I'Egypte Chretienne. Collection de
contes et chansons populaires, vols. 13, 14. Paris, 1888.
Essai sur V evolution hist, et philos. des idees morales
dans Vigypie ancienne. Paris, 1895.
Apophthegmata Patrum, under the title, Verba Seniorum, in
Rosweyd and in Migne, P. G., vol. 65.
Aquinas, Thomas. Summa Theologia. Paris, 1639.
Athenagoras. Legatio pro Christianis. Migne, P. G., vol. 6,

xviU LIST OF AUTHORITIES CITED
Athanasius, St. Vita Anlonii—De Incarnatione— Epistolae.
Migne, P. G., vols. 25-28. Translated in N. and P.-N.
Library.
Augustine, St. De jnoribus eccles. cathoL— Epistolae— De
civitate Dei — Encheiridion. Migne, P. L., vols. 34-47.
Last three works translated in edition of St. Augustine
published by T. and T. Clark.
Baker, Arthur. Shakers and Shakcrism. London, 1900.
Barnabas, Epistle of. Migne, P. G., vol. i. Translated in
Ante-Nicene Library.
Basil, St. Epistolae — Regula Fusius Tractatae — Regula Brevius
Tractatae — De Renuntiatione SaecuU — Hexaemeron — Pro-
oemium — De Judicio — Hom. in Psahn iiJ. Migne, P. G.,
29-32. Epistles translated in N. and P.-N. Library.
Beausobre, de. Histoire critique de Manichee. 2 vols. Amster
dam, 1734-
Bede. Vitae SS. Abbatum. Migne, P. L., 95.
Bernard, St. De Diligendo Deo. Opera Genuina juxt. edit.
mon. S. Benedicti. 3 vols. Paris, 1835.
Beveridge, Bp. Codex Canonum ecclesiae. Collected works.
O-xford, 1863.
Bigg, C. Christian Platonists of Alexandria. Oxford, 1886.
Bingham. Antiquities of the Christian Church. 2 vols.
London, 1865.
Black, H. Culture and Restraint. London, 190 1.
Bonwetsch, G. Nath. Geschichte des Montanismus. Erlangen,
1881.
Bornemann, F. W. B. In investiganda monachatus origine
quibus de causis ratio habenda sit Origenis. Gottingae,
1885.
Bright, W., D.D. Some Aspects of Privative Church Life.
London, 1893.
Browning, R. Fra Lippo Lippi—A Spanish Cloister— The
Statue and the Bust.
Budge, E. Wallis. The Book of ihe Governors. London, 1S93.
Butler, Alban. Lives of Saints. 4 vols. London, 1 833.
Butler, Dom Cuthbert. The Lausiac History of Palladius.
Cambridge, 1S9S.

LIST OF AUTHORITIES CITED xix
Caesarius of Aries. Regula ad Virgines, in Holstenius.
Carolus Magnus. Capitulare Interrogationum ad episcopos et
abbaies. Migne, P. L., 97.
Cassian, John. Instittttes — Conferences. Translated in N. and
P.-N. Library.
Cassiodorus. Opera. Migne, P. L., vol. 70.
Chaucer. Personas Tale.
Clementine Recognitions. Translated in A.-N. Library.
Clement of Alexandria. Paidagogtis — Stromata — Quis Dives
Salvetur. Migne, P. G., vols. 8, 9. Translated in A.-N.
Library.
Columbanus, St. Regula — Poenitentiale, in Holstenius.
Conybeare, F. C. Philo about the Contemplative Life. Oxford,
1895. The Apology and Acts of ApoUonius and other
Monuments of Early Christianity. London, 1894.
Cyprian, St. De Habitu Virginum. Migne, P. L., vol. 4.
Translated in A.-N. Library.
Da\'ids, Rhys. Buddhism. London, 1882.
DoUinger, Von. Heidentkum und Judenthum. Ratisbon, 1857.
Hippolytus and Callixtus. Translation. Edin., 1876.
Diognetus, Epistle to. Migne, P. G., vol. 2. Translated in
A.-N. Library.
Ephraim the Syrian and Aphrahat. Selections translated by
Rev. J. Gwynn, D.D., in N. and P.-N. Library.
Epiphanius. Panarion. Migne, P. G., 41.
Eusebius. Historia ecclesiastica. Ed. Heinichen. Leipzig,
1827. Trans, with valuable notes by McGiffert in N. and
P.-N. Library.
Demonstratio EvangeUca. Ed. S. T. Gaisford. Oxford,
1842. Comm. in Psalms. Migne, P. G., vol. 24.
Eustathius of Sebaste (?). Constitutiones Asceticae. Among
St. Basil's works. Migne, P. G., vol. 32.
Evagrius Pontikus. i^epl tCiv 6ktiJ) \07jcr/ifij'. Migne, P. G., vol. 40.
Farrar, Dean. Lives of tlie Fathers. London, i88g.
Ferreolus. Regula, in Holstenius, Pt. 2.
Fleury, Abbd Histoire de Christianisjue. 6 vols. Paris, 1836.

XX LIST OF AUTHORITIES CITED
Gass, Dr. W. Optimismtts und Pessitnismus. Berlin, 1876.
Galton, Francis. Hereditary Genius. London, 1892.
Gamier. Preface to the Benedictine edition ef S. Basil. Migne,
P. G., Tom. 29-32.
Gibson, Rev. E. C. S. Translation of Cassian with Prolego
mena. Oxford, 1894.
Gibbon. Decline and Fall of the Roman Ejnpire. 12 vols.
London, 1788.
Gregory the Great. Dialogues — Epistles. Migne, P. L., Tom. 66.
Gregory Nazianzen. Oration on Athanasius. Migne, P. G.
Translated in N. and P.-N. Library.
Grote, George. Plato. 1 vols. London, 1865.
Aristotle. 2 vols. London, 1872.
Griitzmacher, Lie. Dr. Die Bedeutung Benedikts von Nursia
und seine Rege I. Berlin, 1892.
Gwatkin, Prof. Studies of Arianism. London, 1882.
Guizot. History of CiviUzation. English translation. London,
1888.
Hall, Bishop. Sermons.
Hardy, R. Spence. Eastern Monachism. London, 1890
HarfiVack, Adolf. Lehrbuch der Dogmengeschichte. Erste
Band, Dritte Auflage. Leipzig, 1894.
Das Mdnchtum, seine Ideale und seine Geschichte. Vierte
Auflage. Giessen, 1895.
Das Wesen des Christentums. 1900.
Hegesippus. In Eusebius, H. E.
Hermas. The Shepherd. Migne, P. G., vols, i, 2. Translated
in A.-N. Library.
Hippolytus. Philosophu7nena. Translated in A.-N. Library.
Holstenius. Codex Regularum. Rome, 166 1. 2 vols.
Howells, VV. D. An Undiscovered Country.
Idylls in Drab.
Hutchinson, Mrs. Memoirs of the Life qf Colonel Hutchinson.
Hyperechius. Monachoru7n Adhortatio. Bibliothecae Grae
corum patrum auctarium novissimum. Parisiis 1572.
Ignatius, St. Epistles, in Lightfoof s Apostolic Fathers.
Irenseus. Adversus 07nnes haereses. Migne, P. G., vol. 7.
Translated in A.-N. Library.

LIST OF AUTHORITIES CITED xxi
Jerome, St. Vita Pauli— Vita H itar ionis— Vita Malchi—
Adv. Joh. Jerus.—Adv. Jovinian. — De Viris Illustribus —
Epistolae. Migne, P. L., 22-30. Translated in N. and
P.-N. Library.
John of Ephesus. Latin translation. Amsterdam, 1889.
Justin Martyr. Apologies — Dialogite with Trypho. Migne,
P. G., vol. 6. Translated in A.-N. Library.
Johannes Diaconus. Vita Gregorii. Migne, P. L., vol. 75.
King, G. W. The Gnostics. London, 1864.
Kingsley, C. Yeast.
Kranich, Dr. A. Die Ascetik in ihrer dogmatiscken Crundlage
bei Basilius de7n Grossen. Paderborn, 1896.
Kriiger, Gustav. Geschichte der altchristlichen Literatur.
Zweite Auflage. Leipzig, 1898.
Lambert, Rev. W. Codex Canonum Ecclesiae Universae.
London, 1868.
Lecky. History of European Morals. 2 vols. London, 1869.
Lightfoot, Bp. The Apostolic Fathers.
Dissertations on the Essenes, in commentary on Colossians
and Philemon. London, 1886.
Loofs, F. Eustathius von Sebaste. Halle, 1898.
Eustathius von Sebaste. Art. in P. R. E., 3rd ed., vol. 5.
Lucius. Die Therapeuten.. Strassburg, 1880.
Macarius. See Pritius.
Mabillon. Acta Sa7ictorum Ordinis S. Benedicti. Paris, 1701.
A7inales Ordinis S. Benedicti. Paris, 1703.
Methodius. Sy77iposiu7n dece7/i Virginum. Migne, P. G., vol.
18. Translated in A.-N. Library.
Meyer, Ph. Die Haupturkunden fiir die Geschichte der Athos-
kloster. Leipzig, 1894."
Milton. Ode on the Morning of Christ's Nativity.
Montelambert. Les Moines d'Occident. 7 vols. Paris, i860.
Moschus, John. Pratum Spirititale, in Rosweyd.
Mosheim. Institutes of Ecclesiastical History. 4 vols. Trans.
London, 1850.

xxii LIST OF AUTHORITIES CITED
Neander. General History of the Christian Religion and
Church. 8 vols. Trans. London, 1S92.
Newman, J. H. Historical Sketches.
Nilus, St. De octo vitiis. Bibliothecae Graecorum patrum
auctarium novissimum. Parisiis, 1 579.
Nordau, Max. Degeneration. London, 1895.
Origen. Opera. Migne, P. G., vols. 1 1-17.
Ozanam. History of Civilisation in the Fifth Ce7itury. Trans.
London, 1868.
Paget, Bp. The Spirit of Discipline. London, 1893.
Palladius. Paradisus Heraclidis {Historia Lausiaca), in
Rosweyd.
Paulus, Diaconus. De Gestis Langobardorti7n. Migne, P. L.,
vol. 95.
Philo. Works. Translated in Bohn's Library.
Polycarp. Works, in Lightfoot's Apostolic Fathers.
Porphyrins. De Abstinentid. Venetiis, 1547.
Preuschen. Palladius und Rufinus. 1897.
Pseudo- Clementine. Epistles to Virgins. Translation in
A.-N. Library.
Pritius, Io. Georgius. Sancti Macarii Egyptici Opuscula.
Lipsiae, 1550.
Ranke. History of ihe Popes. Trans. 3 vols. London, 1847.
Ramsay. Church in the Roman Empire.
Riley, Athelstan. Athos. London, 1887.
Ritschl, Alb. Geschichte des Pietismus. Bonn, 1880.
Robertson, Dr. A. Prolegomena to the Life of St. Antony, in
his translation of St. Athanasius, N. and P.-N. Library.
Rosweyd. Vitae Patrum. Antwerp, 1628. Reprinted for the
most part in Migne, P. L., vols. 73, 74.
Rothe. Theologische Ethik. Drei Bande. Wittenberg, 1848.
Rufinus. Historia Monachorum. Migne, P. L. vol.21.
Verba Senioru7n, in Rosweyd.
Regula S. Basilii Episcopi, in Holstenius, Pt. i.
Realencyclopadie fUr Protestantische Theologie ujtd Kirche.
2nd ed. and 3rd ed. Leipzig.

LIST OF AUTHORITIES CITED xxiii
Sackur, Ernst. Die Cluniacenser. Zwei Bande. Halle, 1S92.
Salmon, George, D.D. The InfalUbility of the Church. London,
1888.
Scott, Sir Walter. The Monastery — The Talisman — Woodstock.
Shorthouse, John. Johjt Inglesant.
Shorter Catechism of the West7ninster Assembly. 1647.
Socrates, Scholasticus. Ecclesiastica Historia. 3 vols. Ed.
R. Hussey, S.XP. Oxon., 1853. Translation in N. and
P.-N. Library.
Southey, R. The Life of Wesley. 2 vols. London, 1853.
Sozomen. Ecclesiastica Historia. 3 vols. Ed. R. Hussey, S.T.P.
O.xon., 1S60. Translation in N. and P.-N. Library.
Smith, T. G. Rise of Christian Monasticism. London, 1892.
The Characteristics of Christian Morality. London, 1875.
Spreitzenhofer, P. E., O.S.B. Die Ejttwicklung des alten
MSnchtutns in Italien. Wien, 1894.
Die Historischen Voraussetzung der Regel des hi.
Benedict. Wien, 1895.
Smith, Newman, D.D. ChrisUan Ethics. Edin., 1S94.
S'ulpicius Severus. Dialogues— Life of St. Martin. Migne,
P. L., 20. Translation in N. and P.-N, Library.
Symonds, J. A. Renaissajice in Italy. 7 vols. London, 1900.
Tatiaru Oratio. Migne, P. G., vol. 6. Translation in A.-N.
Library.
Tertullian. Opera. Migne, P. L., vols. 1, 2. Translation in
.A.-N. Library.
Theodore, The Studite. Testatnentu7n. Migne, P. G., vol. 99.
Theodoret Philotheus {Historia Religiosa), in Rosweyd and
Migne, P. G., 82.
Ecclesiastica Historia. Ed. T. Gaisford, S.T.P. Oxon.,
1S54.
Theophilus. Ad Autolycwn. Migne, P. G., vol. 6. Trans
lation in A.-N. Library.
Thomas of Marga. Translated by Budge in The Book of the
Governors.
Tillemont. Memoirs pour servir a Vhistoire ecclesiastique.
14 vols. Paris, 1695.
Tolstoi. Kreutzer Sonata — Resurrection — The Kingdom of
God is -within you.

x.xiv LIST OF AUTHORITIES CITED
Ueberiveg, Fried. A History of Philosophy. Translation.
London.
Vita Sancti Bonifacii. Migne, P. L., vol. 89.
Vita Sancti Pachomii, in Rosweyd.
Weinel, Heinrich. Die Wirkungen des Geistes und der. Geister
27« nacJiapostoUschen Zeitalter bis auf Irendus. Leipzig,
1S99.
Weingarten, Hermann. Der Ursprung des M'6nchtu7ns. Gotha,
1877. Mdnchtu7n. Article in P. R. E., 2nd edition.
Weizsacker, Carl von. The Apostolic Age of the Christian
Church, translated by J. Miller, D.D.
Westermarck, Ed. The History of Huinan Marriage. London,
1894.
Whately, Archbp. Cautio7ts for the Tijiies. London, 1858.
Williams, Monier. Buddhism in its connection with Brahma7iism
and Hinduis/n. London, 1889.
Hinduis/ii. London, 1885.
Winter, J. F. Die Ethik des Cleme7is von Alexandric7i. Leipzig,
1882.
Zeller. Outlines of the History of Greek Philosophy.
Zockler, D. Otto. Askese und Monchtu7/i. Zwei Bande.
Frankfurt, 1897.

INTRODUCTORY— PROTESTANTISM AND
THE ASCETIC SPIRIT

His thunder follows ! Fool to gibe at Him !
Lo ! Lieth flat aud loveth Setebos !
Maketh his teeth meet through his upper lip,
Will let those quails fly, will not eat this raonth
One little mess of whelks, so he may 'scape !
Caliban upon Seiebos.
Ista est summa sapientia, per contemptum mundi tendere ad regna
ccelestia. De Imitatione Christi.
But, Socrates, what is this pursuit of yours ? Whence come these
calumnies against you ? You must have been engaged in some pursuit
out of the common. All these stories and reports of you would never
have gone about if you had not been in some way different from other
men. So tell us what yout pursuits are, that we may not give our
verdict in the dark.
I think that that is a fair question, and I will try to explain to you
what has raised these calumnies against me and given me this name.
Listen, then. I assure you that I will tell you the whole truth. I
have gained this name, Athenians, simply by reason of a certain
wisdom. But by what kind of wisdom ? It is by just that wisdom
which I believe is possible to men. In that it may be I am really
wise. Do not interrupt me, Athenians, even if you think that I am
speaking arrogantly ; I will tell you who said it, and he is worthy of
your credit. I will bring the God of Delphi to be the witness of the
fact of my wisdom and of its nature. You remember Chaerephon.
Once he went to Delphi and ventured to put this question to the oracle
— I intreat you again, my friends, not to cry out — he asked if there was
any man wiser than I, and the priestess answered that there was no
•nan. The Apology of Socrates.

THE SPIRIT AND ORIGIN OF
CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTORY— PROTESTANTISM AND
THE ASCETIC SPIRIT
IT is not so much doctrinal differences or political
exigencies which split Christendom into the
opposing camps of Protestants and Catholics, as
a divergence amounting to a contradiction between
two conceptions ofthe Christian life.^ Dogmas from
time to time alter their meaning, or lose almost all
vital meaning. It has been so with many of the
doctrines which it once was the very life of Protes
tantism to maintain. Anyone who has watched the
gradual change which has come over the theology
of English Nonconformists and the alteration at least
in the emphasis of Anglican doctrinal statements will
readily understand that dogmatic positions, however
apparently irreconcilable, have no permanent power
' Harnack, MdnchlU7ii : seine Ideale und seine Geschichte, p. I.

4 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
to keep Christians apart from each other. In the
same way political situations which once seemed to
deepen beyond hope the cleavage line of Christendom
have shifted with the rapidity and variety of the
views in a kaleidoscope, so that now nowhere, except
perhaps in Ireland, can politics or patriotism have
much effect in separating or uniting bodies of
Christians. And yet, in spite of the loss of in
terest in the old controversies and the removal of
political barriers, Catholicism and Protestantism are
as far apart as ever. Protestants may become
Catholics, Protestant bodies even may become
Catholic in faith and sympathy, but Protestantism
and Catholicism cannot coalesce. They have different
ideals, different conceptions of what the Chnstian life
is or may be at its best. Men with different goals in
view cannot journey far together along a road. No
doctrinal compromise, were such a thing possible,
could ever unite into one company Christians who
look to their religion to produce difTferent results.
The Catholic ideal is the ascetic life. The true
monk is the perfect Christian. " This," says St.
Thomas a Kempis, "is the highest wisdom, by
contempt of the world to make for the regions of
heaven." Possession of property, marriage, father
hood blind a man's eyes to life's greatest possibility,
the beatific vision of the King in His beauty. The
monk's complete renunciation of all which the world
bolds to be good is at once the proof of his devotion

INTRODUCTORY 5
and the means whereby he is able to arrive most
swiftly 1 and certainly at close personal communion
with God. He has taught himself not to pursue
satisfaction for the desires of the flesh or the desires
of the eyes, nor to strive for the attainment of private
ambition or the fulfilment of his own wiU. He acts
upon a conviction that "all which Is in the world
is not of the Father."^ This life of absolute renun
ciation is, according to the Catholic Church, whether
Eastern or Western, whether ancient, mediseval, or
modern, the highest and completest expression of
the spirit of Christianity. It is not a life possible
for all. Most men must marry, must labour for
wealth, must enter for the world's prizes ; and their
lives, if they are faithful and honest and pure, will
lead also in the end to God. But the heroes of
religion, those whom the Church reckons the greatest,
are they to whom God has granted the vocation to
follow the counsels of evangelic perfection.
Utterly remote from this is the Protestant ideal.
Luther's reformation, however justly it may claim
*in other respects to be a return to what was primitive,
effected an absolute revolution vvith respect to the
ideal of the Christian life. In the Protestant view
a good citizen is the best Christian. It is in the
faithful performance of life's common 'duties that
a man most perfectly fulfils the will of God. In
' St. Thomas Aquinas, S-umma Theologia, II., i. loS.
* I John ii. 1 6.

6 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
the lawful fulfilment of his body's functions he comes
nearest to achieving the purpose of God who made
the body what it is. In making the most that he
can, honestly, out of life's opportunities for gain and
joy, he best shows his thankfulness to the God who
placed him in the world. In the Protestant con
ception of life there is no higher and lower. All
Christian life is on one plane so far as it is genuine.
Circumstances may indeed demand of one man that
he shall give up the possibility of gain, if the gaining
involve a sin, or may pour untold wealth into
another's lap ; but each is bound in reality by the
same divine law, and each, in so fur as he fulfils it,
is equaUy the servant of God, equally a hero among
the soldiers of Christ. The ideal Christian of Protes
tantism is brave and strong. He is one who fears
God and no one except God. He says his prayers
reverently, heeds the divine word carefully. He
makes or administers laws with equity. He pos
sesses wealth or gains wealth, and realises that a
portion of all is God's, to be given in charity. He
is a father of sons whom he trains to be honest
and pure.
Such is the ideal of Protestantism. No one can
deny that it is a lofty one or that it has borne good
fruit. "Protestant and industrial civilization," says
Lecky,! « j^as tended to elevate the virtues of good
humour, frankness, active courage, sanguine energy,
* History of European Morals, vol. ii. p. 132.

INTRODUCTORY 7
buoyancy of temper," and to " depreciate the ideal
type of Catholicism," which is " feeble and effeminate."
This is certainly far apart from that other ideal.
There the strong humanness which seems so good
is counted a thing to be conquered. The flesh is
to be subdued by fasting. Personality is to be extin
guished in unquestioning obedience. The great
impulse of sexual love, the impulse which fills the
spring with song and the summer with the scent
of flowers, which casts the romantic glow men never
weary of across the commonplace of human life, is to
be annihilated in virginity.
Protestants have not merely rejected the ascetic
ideal of life. They have failed to understand it. They
have very often hated it, and almost always dreaded it.
An interesting witness to the Protestant failure to
appreciate even the artistic possibilities of the ascetic
ideal is to be found in the fact that until the latter
half of the nineteenth century there was no great
presentation of it in English imaginative literature.
Shakespeare drew no ascetic. Walter Scott, though
he was steeped in the spirit of mediaeval chivalry,
failed to catch the dominating note of mediaeval
religion, failed to enter into the spirit of monasticism.^
' Edward Glendinning, in The Monastery, is a great Churchman, a
great ecclesiastical statesman, and not a great monk. It is not the
ascetic ideal which dominates his life, but devotion to his Church. The
Hermit of Engaddi, in The Talisman, is conceived as half madman and
half saint, but it is the madness rather than the sanctity which Scott
has chosen to emphasise.

8 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Even Browning saw in it only the degradation of a
" Spanish cloister," or the futile attempt to bind the
strong humanity of Fra Lippo Lippi. George Eliot
came near understanding it when she described
Romola's interview with her dying brother, but it
was not until the publication of fohn Inglesant, in
1880, that English literature was enriched with a
literary expression of the ascetic ideal.
We cannot help asking the reason of this failure to
understand and the impulse to hate.
We do not wonder that a philosophic historian
hates or despises asceticism. He is enamoured of
the story of man's great material progress and
advance towards civilisation. In his view asceticism
has been a clog upon the wheels of humanity's
advance. The deserts of Egypt ^ and the cloisters
of Gaul swallowed up the very men who had in
them the making of a new Thermopylae against the
Goths. Even where a half-grudged tribute of ad
miration is paid to the farms or the schools of the
monasteries, it is always with an implication that
what the monks did might, and probably would, have
been better done without them.
It is natural that the man of science^ should
express his contempt for an ideal of life which
involves celibacy. He sees almost infinite possi
bilities of improvement for the race in the trans-
' I,ecky, History of European Morals, vol. ii. p. 152.
See, for instance, Galton, Hereditary Genius, p. 343.

INTRODUCTORY 9
mission of virtuous tendencies and intellectual
capacity to a numerous offspring. Fierceness and
barbarism would have given way sooner to peace
and law if Odo of Clugny had married as well as
Alberic of Rome, and if gentle nuns had not left the
work of bearing children to Waldrada and Marozia.
The very vocation of the monk and nun was the
proof that it was of them that humanity demanded
descendants. Neither is it hard to understand how it was that
thinkers steeped in the liberalism of the first half of
the nineteenth century despised monasticism. Teach
ing everyone to read and write was hailed as a newly-
discovered panacea for human troubles. A brilliant
series of practical inventions seemed to be opening
the way to happiness. Men believed in the economic
doctrine of laissezfaire, and were prepared to let the
devil take the hindermost. It is not strange that
men like Archbishop Whately ^ saw in the contem
plative life of the convent only a " burying of lamps
under bushels," or that Charles Kingsley^ thought
that "the spinning jenny and the railroad, Cunard
liners and the electric telegraph were surer evidences
of union with the divine than the existence of ' saints
and virgins.'"
It is easily intelligible that men who move along
such planes of thought should dislike a thing so
* Cautions for the Times, p. 153.
- Yeast, chap. v.

IO CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
strange to them as the ascetic ideal. It is much
more difficult to understand why Protestantism
should have hated it. For Protestantism is a religion,
a great form of Christianity, and not a philosophy. A
great Protestant catechism ^ opens with the statement
that the chief end of man is to glorify God and to
enjoy Him for ever. This is a religious aim. It is
not the same thing as the aim of attaining a great
civilisation, or of eliminating ferocity from the
race by careful attention to their breeding. It is
quite conceivable that men might attain to the
millennium of the social reformer and yet fail to the
last in glorifying God. A perfected sanitary system
and smokeless factories and trains would not
necessarily make any easier the narrow way which
leadeth unto life. A religion which aims, in the
first place, at glorifying God cannot have rejected
and hated ascetism on account of its tending to
diminish the number of soldiers at the command of
the State, or (I recognise that the objections make an
ill-assorted pair) because it prevented the multiplica
tion of the type that preferred quietness to fighting.
No doubt the widespread failure of the monks of
the Reformation period to realise their ideal must
have helped to discredit the ideal itself in the minds
of religious Protestants. Because the monks whom
Erasmus attacked were ignorant, stupid and hypo
critical, men came by a natural confusion of thought
1 The Shorter Catechism ofthe Westminster Assembly, 1647.

INTRODUCTORY ii
to regard such vices as a result of the monastic
system and the ascetic ideal. There were traditions
of yet graver sins which dwelt in the minds of the
generation succeeding the Reformers, and even yet
may be accountable for a certain amount of un
reasoning prejudice among Protestants. But taken
even at their worst these are insufficient to account
for the persistent Protestant hatred of the ideal
itself. More than once before the period of the
Reformation monasticism had sunk to the very
lowest depths of degradation. The condition of
European monasteries at the beginning of the tenth
century was certainly worse than it was in Luther's
time, and yet the spirit of reform then, so far from
discarding the monastic life, turned to the monasteries
and accomplished its work through monks. Nor is
it possible now for men to be greatly moved by the
history of monastic degradation in the fifteenth cen
tury. It is all bygone history. A remoter past is
equally accessible. It is as easy now to appreciate the
greatness of St. Benedict or St. Francis as to grow
angry over the baseness of the heirs of their rules.
Yet there remains in Protestantism to-day the same
inveterate dislike of the ascetic ideal.
It is true that Luther's great assertion of "justifi
cation by faith alone" cuts at the root of much of
the theology of asceticism. I have no doubt that
Protestant theologians who have accepted this
doctrine and tracked out its bearings upon the

12 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
practical problems of Christian living are bound to
reject the ascetic theory of virtue. The whole pro
cess, however, seems too remote, too purely intel
lectual to produce a great popular antipathy.
Ordinary mea do not work out the ultimate con
clusions of the doctrines they accept, and yet the
dislike of the ascetic ideal is just as strong among
the rank and file of Protestantism as it is among its
theologians. It seems as if Protestantism had retained some
thing of the spirit of those early humanists whose
struggles for learning made Luther's Reformation
possible. These men^ restored to Europe that free
dom of intellect which ultimately dared to dispute
the most venerable dogmas, but they also revived
again the ancient delight in the pomp and glory of
the world, in physical beauty and in the joy of
living. In spite of Pietists and Puritans, this
humanist spirit found a permanent home in Pro
testantism. It blazes up in the life and literature
of Elizabethan England. It has been responsible
for the unacknowledged aim of glorifying humanity
rather than glorifying God, which has lain at the
root of very much of the best achievements of
Protestantism. Whatever speculations we may indulge in as to
the cause of the Protestant dislike of the ascetic
ideal, the dislike itself remains a fact. Another
' See J. A. Symonds' Renaissance in Italy, especially vol. ii.

INTRODUCTORY 13
fact balances it curiously. Protestantism has never
succeeded In expelling the ideal or preventing its
revival in most unexpected ways. The ascetic ideal
has haunted Protestantism since the dawn of the
Reformation. It has been like a ghost which the
subtleties of theologians failed to exorcise, which
even the fresh energy of nations living in the day
light of modern life did not lay. It has risen again
and again to vex the household's satisfaction in
warmth and comfort.
Luther and his doctors were almost as much
troubled by the fanaticism of the Anabaptists as
by the attacks of Rome. It is but a superficial
criticism which finds in the Anabaptists nothing
but a wilder and more unbridled Protestantism. In
reality! the Anabaptist spirit was wholly different
from that of Luther. There may be no solid foun
dation for Ritschl's guess^ that the Anabaptist move
ment owed its original impulse to the Franciscan
tertiaries, but he is certainly right in maintaining
that the Anabaptist conception of reform was medise-
val and not Protestant' They were the spiritual
kindred of St. Francis and not of Luther. They
really attempted a reform in the ascetic spirit, like
the reforms of Benedict of Aniani, of Odo of Clugny,
of St. Francis, and the others which punctuate the
^ Zockler, Asktse und Mdnchtum, p. 573; and Ritschl, Geschichte
des Pietismus, part i. chap, iii,
- Ritschl, as above, part i. chap, iii, p. 30.
' Ritschl, as above, part i. chap. iii. p. 26 and fi.

14 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
history of the mediaeval Church. Luther's Reforma
tion was something different and something new.
He aimed at setting men free to live the lives of
honest citizens. The sons of the Protestant Refor
mation felt themselves to be at peace with God
through faith, and being so, had leisure to become
honourable members of great civic corporations, ser
vants of commonwealths, whose duties and powers
lay upon a different plane from those of the Church,
The Anabaptists^ thought of the Church as domin
ating, or rather as rendering unnecessary, all functions
of the State. They aimed at founding a theocracy,
a visible rulership of God. They held a socialistic
theory of property. All goods were to be in common
among the children of the kingdom of God. Some^
followed, with the literalness of the earliest ascetics,
the Lord's command of poverty, and went forth into
the world with staff and shoes. Others^ declared
that they would have nothing in common with the
world or the world's ways. They had their rules,
like the old monastic rules, about eating, drinking,
sleeping, and clothes. Pathological manifestations
of spiritual ecstasy, similar to those which appear
among medijeval ascetics, were common in Ana
baptist communities. Broadly stated, the difference
between the Anabaptists and the Lutherans lay in
this : the Lutherans aimed at the purification of
' Mosheim, Ecclesiastical History, vol. iii., iv., pp. 6, 524.
"- The Apostolic Baptists, Ritschl, as above, p. 26.
' The Spiritual Baptists, Ritschl, as above, p. 26.

1I\ IKUDUCTURY 15
society by conforming the morality of the ordinary
citizen to the evangelic standard ; the Anabaptists,
in common with all ascetics, felt an impossibility in
this task. They declared that the gospel life and
the ways of the world were irreconcilable. Men
might be ruled by the laws of Christ, or by the
maxims of political wisdom, but not by both. They
might live Christ's life and give up houses and lands,
becoming, Uke Him, worse off than the foxes or the
birds, or they might live the world's life and try to
get houses and lands, laying their heads in better
shelters than holes or nests ; only they could not live
both lives. From their point of view, with perfect con
sistency, they denounced the doctors of Wittenberg
as fleshly, worldly, lovers of ease, comfort, and wine.^
After its failure to establish an ascetic theocracy,
the original Anabaptist spirit found a certain limited
expression in the Mennonite Church in Flanders;^
The necessity for some compromise with the con
ditions of life in the world subdued, but did not
extinguish it. From this soil it sprang Into life
again and again, bearing often very strange fruit.
Disciples were found ready to accept the mystical
teaching of Antoinette Bourignon,^ and to imitate
her virginity. Gichtel,* who died in 1710, is typical
^ Zockler, Askese und Monchtum, p. 573.
" Mosheim, as above, p. 524.
' Zockler, as above, p. 575, and article in P. R. E. (3rd edition).
* Zockler, as above, p. 575 ; Ritschl, as above, p. 232 ; and article
in P. R. E. (3rd edition) especially.

i6 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
of the sudden revival of the ascetic spirit in Pro
testant communities. As a youth he was disgusted
with the worldliness of professing Christians, and
determined to seek out for himself a new and com
plete way of following Christ He found what he
craved for in the renunciation of property, and in
deliberate celibacy. He afterwards explained his
celibacy by saying that he was mystically married to
the divine Wisdom ; but this thought was part of the
mysticism which he learned in later life from Bohme,
and formed no part of the original ascetic impulse.
Konrad PeysseU founded a sect of Protestant monks
and nuns, called the Tunklers, or Dumplers. They
afterwards migrated to the United States, where they
continued to exist up to the earlier part of the nine
teenth century. Their manner of life was intensely
ascetic. Their name, but not their asceticism, survives
still in a sect of American Baptists, who have, so far
as I have been able to ascertain, no connection with
the original Dutch sect. Perhaps the most note
worthy of these undisciplined revivals of the ascetic
spirit out of the soil of Dutch Protestantism is to be
found in the community of Labadie." Labadie him
self was educated as a Catholic, and was at one time
a Jesuit and a priest Like Gichtel among the Pro
testants of Regensburgh, Labadie^ revolted against
' Zockler, as above, p. 576.
- Ritschl, as above, p. 194 and ff.
' Ritschl, as above, p. 204 and ff.

INTRODUCTORY 17
the worldliness he found in the order he belonged to.
He privately studied the writings of Calvin, and was
intensely attracted by the tone of the Christianity
there presented to him, although he never fell under
the spell of the Protestant theory of justification.
He finally went over to the reformed party, but
found among the Protestants no permanent home.
He was formally excommunicated by a Dutch synod.
It was then that he founded his community, with the
old ascetic aim of restoring Apostolic Christianity.
He conceived of it as a spiritual enthusiasm, pure
from all taint of worldliness, and freed from the
bondage of law and ceremony.
We are on more famUiar ground when we pass
to notice similar expressions of the ascetic spirit in
England. The sect of the Quakers is very similar
in some points to the community of Labadie. We
find in it the same determination to stand clear of
the world for the sake of spiritual union with God.
George Fox was a true ascetic. His breach with his
friends, his desertion of his trade, and his wandering
through the English midlands, are simUar to the
things we read of the early Egyptian ascetics. His
first followers, while they avoided his extravagances,
conceived of Christianity in an ascetic spirit. It
seemed to them that the following of Christ necessi
tated the uncompromising renunciation of much
which the Church and Christian society in general
held to be innocent Their refusal to conform to

iS CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
ordinary social usages, or to call the days of the
week after heathen gods, were, in spite of their
apparent triviality, in reality the expressions of
separation from the world. When they refused to
take oaths in courts of justice they acted literally,
as all ascetics tried to do, upon one of the command
ments of Christ. Their great protest against war
and the use of force was a similar literal obedience.
To them the words " Resist not evil " ^ appealed with
a force not in any way to be evaded, exactly as " Sell
all that thou hast"- came to St Antony as a direct
personal command.
In the eighteenth century the English Church wit
nessed a great revival of religion which, in its earlier
stages at least, was strongly tinged with the ascetic
spirit. John Wesley and his company of Methodists
at Oxford were very definitely ascetic in their lives.'
They faithfully observed the list of fasts enjoined by
the Anglican Church, sometimes so severely as to
injure bodily health. Such stated fasts are contrary
altogether to the genius of Protestantism. They
become, indeed, almost meaningless for anyone un
less they are conceived of as a kind of tribute paid
by ordinary Christians to the ideal of a complete
renunciation of the world. Whether thus appre
hended or not, the faithful observance of these —
' St. Matt. V. 39. = St. Luke xviii. 22.
' Abbey and Overton, The Etiglish Cliurch in ihe Eighteenth
Century, p. 316. Southey's Life of Wesley, vol. i. pp. 30, 47, 83,
and elsewhere.

INTRODUCTORY 19
the Church's minimum requirement in asceticism-
tends to develop into a fuller and completer self-
denial. Enthusiastic souls do not rest content with
abstinence on certain days, but push on towards an
ascetic conception of the whole life. It is customary
to regard the fasting of the early Oxford Methodists
as something quite foreign to the after-spirit of the
movement. John Wesley himself speaks of the
religion of this early period of his life as a walk
ing in darkness. A more penetrative criticism will
recognise that the whole of the earlier stages of the
movement were profoundly affected by the ascetic
spirit. Southey, in his biography of Wesley, re
peatedly draws parallels between the teaching and
discipline of the preachers and that of various
monastic foundations.^ The parallels are apt, and
go deeper than the surface. The rule of life of the
society at Bristol witnesses to the workings of the
ascetic spirit. No one can read Wesley's sermons,
especially those on St. Matthew vi., without being
struck by the ascetic view they take of the Christian
life. The regulations for the management of Kings-
wood School impress us in the same way. From
the very first, however, the missionary impulse in
Methodism tended to obscure the asceticism. At
the present day in England, and to an even greater
extent in the United States, the ascetic element in
Methodism has disappeared. Almost the most un-
1 Southey's Life of Wesley, vol. i. pp. 34, 138 ; vol. iL p. 254.

20 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
likely homes for the ascetic spirit would be among
the bustling activities of modern Methodism. Yet
it is from it that the Salvation Army sprang, an
organisation exhibiting many marks of asceticism.
The religion of this sect is essentially a reversion
to the earliest Methodist type.
The Shakers^ are a body vvho bear a strong re
semblance to the Tunklers of Konrad Peyssel's
foundation. Their origin is obscure, but there is
no trace of the influence of any Catholic ascetic
order. The sect took its rise in England during
the early part of the nineteenth century, but found
its home in the United States. Its members are
bound to celibacy, which, in the very language of
Origen and of the early Egyptian hermits,^ they
call the angelic life, for angels neither marry nor are
given in marriage. All goods are common among
them, and their societies were originally very poor.
They live austerely, and depend for their support on
labour in the fields. The ascetic impulse vvhich
shapes their lives seems to have sprung up spon
taneously in response to a spiritual hunger which
could find no satisfaction in ordinary Protestant
conceptions of the gospel life.
' A good account of the Shakers will be found in Shakers and
Shakerism, by Arthur Baker. See also W. D. Howell's sympathetic
studies in An Undiscovered Country and Idylls in Drab. Also short
account and citations in The Denominational Reason Why.
= Origen. Hom. 9 in Lite, v. 124, in ep. ad Eph.,. v. 272, and else
where ; and Apophtheg. Patrum, passim.

INTRODUCTORY 21
I believe that the spirit which originally animated
the Plymouth Brethren was the ascetic dislike of
compromise with the ways of the world. A new
generation is content to conform lo the ordinary
moral standards of social life, and to maintain their
separation from other Protestants merely by ex
aggeration of certain theological errors ; but at first
this sect, too, vvas bent upon the realisation of a
perfect life, and found a hopeless inconsistency in
the creed and the ways of ordinary Protestants.
A far more interesting and important instance of
the response of people educated apart from Catho
licism to ascetic teaching is to be found in the wide
popularity of Tolstoi's writings. It has been pointed
out, and I think truly, by Max Nordau, that Tolstoi
owes his popularity not so much to the artistic excel
lence of his work as to the earnestness with which
he delivers his message. Tolstoi must be regarded
as a preacher, a prophet, rather than as a literary
man. It is his message, and his own belief in it,
that has won for him an audience wider, perhaps,
than that of any living author. But while this much
of Nordau's criticism is certainly just, he is led, by
vvhat he himself would call an obsession, into a
curious error about the kind of audience which
Tolstoi has found. It is really a sheer absurdity to
state, as Max Nordau does,! ^}^^(. ^^le Kreutzer
Sonata has become a book of devotion for English
* Degeneration, p. 170.

22 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
spinsters of the middle classes. The facts are alto
gether different. Tolstoi's readers are the kind of
men whom Robert Blatchford addresses in the
Clarion — a class entirely remote from anything
vvhich even a philosopher possessed by Lombroso's
alienist theories could call degenerate. The readers
of Tolstoi who are content to make their way
through the complexity of his novels, and to
struggle with the confusion of his Russian names,
are not morbid and disappointed women, but earnest
men in search of some sure word of prophecy. So
short a time has elapsed since Tolstoi's novels were
first translated into English, that it is impossible to
estimate vvhat effect his teaching is producing upon
English life. It is worth noticing, however, that a
publishing company^ exists which devotes itself to
spreading through the press a knowledge of the text
and the spirit of his teaching. A magazine,^ with
^ The Brotherhood Publishing Company. Since these words were
written this company has been replaced by Mr. Francis Riddell
Henderson's Tolstoi Dep6t, 26, Paternoster Square, London, which
appears to devote itself to the same objects as the Brotherhood
Publishing Company.
^ The Ne-w Order. This journal has now died out The last
number was issued November-December, 1901. Mr. F. R. Henderson,
lately of the Brotherhood Publishing Company, and now of the Tolstoi
Depot, was the editor and publisher. He describes the New Order as
"an intermittent, unconventional journal, which raay or may not con
tinue. It endeavours to promote the union of conduct with the belief
and goodwill among men. It discusses everyday questions in the ever-
new light ; seeks the remedy of abuses, not by legislation, but by
peaceful raeans ; records for encouragement the world-wide movement
toward the New Society." Many of the writings of Leo Tolstoi have
appeared in the Nevi Order.

INTRODUCTORY 23
the same object, is published at irregular intervals,
which the public are invited to subscribe for, or if
they cannot afford a subscription, to receive and
read. A brotherhood * exists among the Cotswold
Hills, whose members are trying the experiment of
life lived along the lines of Tolstoi's gospel. Indi
viduals now and then try similar experiments.
There is no difficulty in forming a clear idea of
the import of Tolstoi's teaching. His plots may be
confused, but his message is clear, insistent, and
reiterated. In the first place, the reader is struck by
the impassioned earnestness of his repetitions of
hard sayings from the Sermon on the Mount. " Re
sist not evil," " Give thy cloak to him that taketh thy
coat," are treated as precepts vvhich no man must
dare to explain except in their literal sense, which
are not to be weakened by any plea of the necessity
of preserving society from murderers and thieves.
The way of living which such words indicate is the
divine way. That it seems to result necessarily in
the destruction of society and civilisation is nothing,
since the way is divine. All compromise vvith the
conditions of life in the world amounts to faithless-
' The colony of the "Whiteway Anarchists," as they call them
selves, was founded and presented with about forty acres of land by a
Mr. Bracher in 1897. Mr. Bracher was imbued with Tolstoi's com
munistic ideas. Two interesting accounts of this brotherhood were
given in the numbers of the New Order published in September, 1S99,
and February, 1901. With the author of the latter article I had a
short correspondence, but his letters added nothing of interest to the
information given in his article.

24 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
ness and a denial of Christ. That society should
hire policemen to defend it, or the nation soldiers, is
antichristian. His teaching on marriage and the relation of the
sexes generally has developed in the period between
the writing of the Kreutzer Sonata and The Resur
rection into definite asceticism. It is, indeed, an
asceticism of a violent and unchristian kind, since
he teaches the fundamental impurity of all sex
relationship. His great conception is the brotherhood of
humanity. Here he fails only by a very little of
a full expression of the teaching of Christ Un
fortunately there is in most of what he has written
on this subject a note of bitterness very different
even from the Lord's severest denunciations of
Scribes and Pharisees. Nevertheless he preaches
here a noble gospel, and one that scarcely since the
days of Christ has been heard outside of monastery
walls. Tolstoi's teaching is at war with the world and
with the flesh. He demands renunciation as clearly
as ever any monk did. He disdains all compromise.
He is a modern prophet of asceticism.
It is to him that eager Socialists in Protestant Eng
land and Protestant Germany are listening. There are
men vvho are turning dissatisfied from the teaching of
our pulpits. They find no solid food in the theo
logical philanthropy of educated Nonconformists and

INTRODUCTORY 25
none in the outworn phrases of revivalists. But they
have discovered in Tolstoi an assertion of Christianity
without fear of the world or shrinking from conse
quences. They recognise its spiritual affinity to the
teaching of the Master. " This," they say, " is the
teaching of Jesus of Nazareth." Alas! They too
often go away from it sorrowful, Uke the young man
in the gospel story,! f^^. they add, " But Christianity
is too great a thing for us." They have discovered
that the imitation of Christ necessitates renunciation,
and it seems too high a price to pay.
Thus, in spite of definite repudiation, the ascetic
spirit has given the impulse to small communities
that broke away from the greater Protestant bodies,
and has worked a restless discontent in minds edu
cated to appreciate Protestant ideals. It has haunted
the progress of our Protestant and industrial civUisa
tion. Sometimes a value has been set upon one kind
of renunciation and sometimes upon another, but
there has always been a profound dissatisfaction vvith
the worldliness of common Christianity. It is here
that the essence of all asceticism is to bg^ found. It /
is tlie^;efiisal^jto_^omprfi£Iusej^lo_3^^^ iol^ of
Christ's teaching^ Jorjhe sake of makings life irithe ,
world possible, or to follow the desire of the flesh,
even in ways generally deemed innocent
It may be that Protestantism is right in its re
pudiation of the ascetic ideal, and that the whole of
» St, Matt. xix. 22.

26 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
this theory of virtue is a mischievous mistake ; that it
involves an insult to the Creator who made us what
we are and placed us where vve are, and a failure in
the imitation of Him who came eating and drinking
and was called gluttonous and wine-bibber.! Even
so it would be an error worth studying, since it
dominated the religion of all Christians for fifteen
hundred years, still holds its place in the greater part
of Christendom, and has persistently intruded itself
even into the sanctuaries of Protestantism. It is as
a contribution to this study that I offer the following
chapters. I am aware that we may approach the subject in
different ways. We might, for instance, begin by an
inquiry into the nature of man and the object of his
being. If vve arrived at -any conclusions, we should
no doubt be able to deduce from them the suitability
or unsuitabihty of asceticism for developing what is
best in man. Or we might try to form some con
ception of the meaning and purpose of the Christian
revelation, might assume that the future salvation of
the human soul, or the present sanctification of the
human life, were the objects of the incarnation of the
Son of God and His death upon the cross. So we
should, perhaps, perceive the righteousness or un
righteousness of ascetic renunciation. By either
method vve should attain conclusions temptingly
symraetrical and self-consistent But unfortunately
' St, Matt. xi. 19.

INTRODUCTORY 27
such conclusions are just those vvhich the modem
mind finds the greatest difficulty in accepting. We
instinctively prefer to remain amid certain incon
sistencies, provided vve succeed in seeing things as
they really are. We are more than content if vve
succeed in wresting from history something of the
secret of how they came to be. It seems therefore
better to try to discover how the ascetic spirit pro
tested in the past against^ worldliness, how it found
various expressions for itself at different times, how
it made for itself a home within the pale of Catholic
Christendom. In this way we shall no doubt pass
by many questions which we cannot answer and
leave many inconsistencies which vve cannot recon
cile. Our conclusions, if we reach conclusions at all,
will be very inferior in their form to those of fhe
metaphysician or the theologian. Yet in this way
we may be led to feel whether or not this spirit of
asceticism is sympathetic with the great ideal of the
Master's life.

ASCETICISM OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE

Unveil, O Lord, and on us shine
In glory and in grace ;
This gaudy world grows pale before
The beauty of Thy face.
Till Thou art seen it seems to be
A sort of fairy ground,
Where suns unsetting light the sky,
And fiowers and fruits abound.
But when Thy keener, purer beam
Is poured upon our sight.
It loses all its power to charm.
And what was day is night.
Its noblest deeds are then the scourge
Which made Thy blood to flow ;
Its joys are but the treacherous thorns
Which circled round Thy brow.
And thus, when we renounce for Thee
Its restless aims and fears.
The tender memories of the past.
The hopes of coming years.
Poor is our sacrifice, whose eyes
Are lighted from above ;
We offer what we cannot keep,
What we have ceased to love.
Newman.
Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world.
For all that is in the world, the desire of the flesh, and the desire of
the eyes, and the vainglory of life, is not of the Father, but is of tbe
world. And the world is passing away, and the desire thereof. St. John.
O quam multas et graves tribulationes passi sunt Apostoli.
Nam animas suas in hoc mundo oderunt ut in vitam aeternam eas
possiderent. De Imitatione Christi.

CHAPTER II
ASCETICISM OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE
THE reiterated claim of asceticism to be a
return to the first Christian life and the earliest
Christian view of the world necessitates an examina
tion of the attitude of the apostolic communities.
Undoubtedly the Christianity of the apostolic age
vvas, in a certain sense, ascetic.
Asceticism is the refusal to make any compromise
vvith the ways of the world, even with ways vvhich are
without taint of actual sin. This aloofness from the
world manifests itself in various ways. The world
loves and honours wealth. The ascetic chooses
poverty. The world respects and takes measures to
ensure the safety of private property. The ascetic
aims at a community of goods. The world encourages
the physical enjoyments for which man's body craves.
The ascetic practises the self-imposed austerities of
fasting and virginity. These things — poverty, com
munism, virginity, and fasting — are each of them
partial expressions of a great renunciation of the
world and its ways.
In the apostolic age there seem to have been two

32 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
beliefs which resulted in a more or less complete
renunciation of the world among Christians. In the
first place, there was the expectation of the immediate
Second Advent of the Lord. This has formed,
wherever it has prevailed, a motive for ascetic re
nunciation. It is very natural that it should. If a
man is convinced that the end of this present order
of the world is close at hand, at once very many
things vvhich are usually of great importance cease
to be interesting. When a man is looking out in
momentary expectation of the lightning vvhich shall
lighten out of the East, it will, clearly, matter very
little to him how much profit he makes on a day's
trading, or what opinion his neighbours have of him.
Under the tremendous emotion of such anticipation
his body vvill even cease to crave for its customary
indulgences. It is in this spirit that St. Paul writes
to the Corinthians ;! " Brethren, the time is short : it
remaineth, that both they that have wives be as
though they had none ; and they that rejoice, as
though they rejoiced not ; and they that buy, as
though they possessed not; and they that use this
world, as not using it to the full: for the fashion of
this world is passing away." This is an exhortation
to asceticism, but to an asceticism based upon a
peculiar motive. The expectation of an immediate
Second Advent did not long remain sufficiently vivid
to form a powerful incentive to asceticism. It has
^ I Cor, vii. 29-31.

ASCETICISM OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE 33
reasserted itself fitfully at uncertain intervals during
the Church's history, but it has not been a great
factor in Christian ascetic movements.
Another belief operated more persistently as a
leading motive for asceticism. The early Christians
were profoundly convinced of the reahty and activity
of the powers of evil. For modern men the whole
apparatus of demons and their works has passed
into the region of myth. Even to those who hold
fast the ancient Christian faith, the existence of
demons is an obscure dogma rarely present to the
consciousness. To the primitive Christians demons
were intensely real beings, and belief in them was
the most pressing and insistent of all beliefs, ex
cepting only the conviction that Christ could conquer
them. These demons were identical with the
heathen gods. An idol indeed vvas, as St Paul
taught,! " nothing in the world " ; but behind and
within the idol dwelt in some mysterious way the
living power of the demon to whom it vvas dedicated.
Thus St. John tell us^ that the beast had power to
give breath to his image, so that it shoujd speak, and
— even more — that it could cause those who would
not worship to be killed. St Paul admits that there
are "gods many and lords many,"^ that to partake
of meat offered to idols is to have a communion with
demons.* Athenagoras * does not dream of denying
' I Cor. viii. 4. ' Rev. xiii, 15. * l Cor. viiu S-
¦• I Cor. X, 20. ' Athenag., Leg. xxvi.

34 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
the " energies '' possessed by the images. He refers
them to the gods vvho dwell behind their images.
There was the Lord's own authority ^ for speaking
of the chief of these demons as the " prince of this
world." Hermas^ calls him the "lord of this city,"
meaning, the lord of the material world. When
St Paul wrote ^ of the " rulers of this world having
crucified the Lord of glory," Justin Martyr* under
stood him to mean that the demons had instigated
the senseless Jews to inflict sufferings upon Him. It
is sometimes not possible* to decide whether a writer
refers to the visible power of the Roman Empire or
the invisible diabolic power which inspired it, so closely
are the two connected by the primitive Christians.
* St. John xli. 31, xiv. 30, xvi, 11.
2 Sim., i. 2 I Cor, ii, 8,
¦* ' ' Which none of the rulers of this world knoweth : for had they
known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory," Cf. Justin
Martyr, Apol., I, Ixii, : "All the sufferings which the devils instigated
the senseless Jews to inflict upon Him."
"The evil demons who hate us, and who keep such men as these
subject to themselves, and serving them in the capacity of judges, in
cite them as rulers actuated by evil spirits, to put us to death." — Justin
Martyr, Apol., II. i.
" "For the lord of this city will say, ' I do not wish thee to dwell in
my city ; but depart from this city, because thou obeyest not my laws.'
Thou, therefore, although having fields and houses, and many other
things, when cast out by him, what wilt thou do with thy land, and
house, and other possessions which thou hast gathered to thyself? For
the lord of this country justly says to thee, ' Either obey my laws or
depart from my dominion.' What, then, dost thou intend to do,
having a law in thine own city, on account of thy lands, and the rest
of thy possessions? Thou shalt altogether deny the law, and walk
according to the law of this city." — Hermas., Si7n., i.

ASCETICISM OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE 35
These demons, acting through the world and its
powers, vvhich they owned and inspired, were bent
upon the destruction of Christianity. Money and
worldly position Were baits — too often successfully
displayed — by which they strove to seduce Christians
from their allegiance. ! The desires of the flesh were
desecrated by their dedication to demons. Errors
and heresies were nets spread by satanic activity to
entangle the feet of the simple. Thus St. John^
speaks of certain early heretics as having the spirit
of Antichrist, and Polycarp' recognised in Marcion
"the first-born of Satan." Persecution was the last
and most powerful weapon. By it Christians were
to be terrorised. The rulers of the world when they
persecuted were "furious and filled with the devil."*
It was "the Adversary,"^ as the Martyrs of Lyons
relate, who fell upon them with his might in the
persecution which they suffered.
For us now it is possible to take a very dififerent
view of the world. After the experience of nineteen
centuries vve can appreciate the force of the Lord's
parable of the leaven working in the meal,^ and can
realise the gradual permeation of the world with
Christian ideals. But to the little bands of the first
disciples such a conception must have been well-nigh
impossible — "We are of God. The whole world
1 See Weinel, Die Wirkungen des Geistes und der Geister, ii.
2 I John iv. 3.
= Eus., H.E. iv. 14, 7. * Eus., H.E. vi. 27.
= Eus., H.E. vi. 5. " St. Matt. xiii. 33.

36 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
lieth under the power of the wicked one."! "AU
that is in the world, the desire of the flesh, and the
desire of the eyes, and the vainglory of life, is not
of the Father." ^ To them the only reasonable exhor
tation was, " Love not the world."^
A hundred years after the time of the apostles,
Tertullian wrote : * " The theatres, the streets, the
market-places, the taverns, the baths, are altogether
fiUed with idols." This was also certainly true of the
earliest time of all. From the walls of the house
where the Christian lodged demons watched him
through the eyes of Lares and Penates. Behind the
pillars of the temples he knew that demons lurked for
him, grimly malevolent, or allured him in the marble
limbs of beautiful Greek deities. The pomp of
Roman power was the visible embodiment of the
kingdom of the evil one. It was in full knowledge
that he lay bound in the prison-house of demons that
Ignatius flung his final defiance at those powers who
had failed to conquer him — " Rulers, both visible
and invisible, if they believe not in the blood of
Christ shall, in consequence, come under condem
nation"^ — adding, as we may guess, for the unseen
demons who watched him as he wrote ; " He that is
able to receive it, let him receive it" The Christian
dare not attend the public games of the city where
he lived. They were held in "honour of demons."
• I John V. 19, " I John il 16.
' I John ii. 15, * De Spectac., 8, ° Si/tyr., vi.

ASCETICISM OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE 37
They " cover men with infamy."! To accept an in
vitation to a feast in a friend's house, even to buy
meat in the market-place, was to run the risk of
defilement through some mysterious communion
with the demon to whom the food eaten had been
oflfered. It was not the opinion of St Paul alone
that "the things which the Gentiles sacrifice they
sacrifice to demons."^ It was the teaching of the
whole Church, as we know from the order of the
Council of Jerusalem^ about meat offered to idols.
Certain professions could scarcely be adopted at first
by Christians. A soldier* was called upon, or might
be called upon at any moment, to perform an act
of idolatry. A schoolmaster* owed a certain recog
nition to the State religion. Gods® presided over
every moment of a man's life, from his birth to his
funeral. There were gods of food and drink, gods
of marriage and of birth, gods even of the thresholds
of houses and the hinges of doors. Nor were these
gods merely the poetic fancies of minds bent upon
a personification of every experience — they were
^ "Who must not treat with contempt your solemn festi\-al3, which,
being held in honour of wicked demons, cover men with infamy ?
I have often seen a man giving himself excessive airs of daintiness
and indulging in all sorts of effeminacy ; sometimes darting his eyes
about ; sometimes throwing his hands hither and thither, and raving
with his face smeared with mud ; sometimes personating Aphrodite,
sometimes Apollo," — Tatian, Or., xxii,
^ I Cor. X. 20. ^ Acts XV. 20.
* Tertullian, De Coron., ii. ^ Tertullian, De Idol., x.
^ St. August., De Civitat. Dei., iv. 8 and ff.

38 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
believed to be real existences. In the view of the
eariy Christians, the worid, from the Roman emperor
down to the provincial shopkeeper, was literally
possessed by demons. "You old Greeks," says
Tatian,! "acknowledge the dominion of many
rather than the rule of one. For as the inhuman
robber is wont to overpower those like himself by
daring, so the demons, going to great lengths in
wickedness, have utterly deceived the souls of those
who are left to themselves by ignorance and false
appearances." " Before we believed in God," wit
nesses another Christian, "- " the habitation of our
heart was full of idolatry, and vvas a habitation of
demons!' It is to a people dweUing in a world ruled
and inspired by demons, in a society possessed by
demons, that St. John says, ^ " Keep yourselves from
idols." To us, perhaps, the words have seemed
sometimes a bathos, an impotent conclusion to the
earnest mysticism of his epistle. To those who read
them first they were a terrifically comprehensive
application of the belief that the whole world was
lying under the power of the wicked one.* St. John
might almost as well have said to them, " Keep your
selves from life's pleasures, life's intercourse, business,
. ambition, riches, pomp " — in a word, " Renounce the
worid." ^ Tat., Or., xiv. ^ Ep. Barnab., xvi. ^ i St. John v. 21.
¦* See on this subject Bright, Some Aspects of Primitive Church Life,
iv. I.

ASCETICISM OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE 39
We are not, however, left merely to infer the ascetic
nature of the early Christian life from the prevalence
of their belief in the reality and power of demons.
We have evidence of an asceticism not altogether
the consequence of this belief. The Church in
Jerusalem! during the earlier years of its existence
was a communistic brotherhood, in vvhich the renun
ciation of private property, if not an actual condition
of membership, was certainly the general practice.
Probably this vvas simply an effort to continue the
life lived by Jesus and His disciples, where one kept
the little store of money^ and bought such things as
were needful- for the community. It is not surpris
ing, in view of the way in which the Lord lived, that
communism should have been the rule in the Church
at Jerusalem. What does seem strange is that the
same experiment does not seem to have been tried
elsewhere. We have, indeed, a hint that the idea
of every member having a claim upon the funds of
the community existed among Gentile Christians.
St Paul's* word, " If any man will not work, neither
shall he eat," shows us the existence of a class who
claimed their support in mere virtue of the fact that
they were members of the brotherhood. The funds
from which such support could have been given must
have come from the property of comparatively
wealthy believers. In the Shepherd of Hermas
we get a glimpse of the earliest Christian view of
' Acts IV. 32. - St. John xiii. 29. ' 2 Thess. iii. 10.

40 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
wealth and its uses. In his first similitude! he
contrasts the heavenly city of vvhich Christians
are citizens vvith the earthly city or states which they
are not permitted to dwell in as citizens. " Instead
of lands," he says, " buy afflicted souls according as
each one is able. . . . Spend your wealth and all
your preparations which ye have received from the
Lord upon such lands and houses." He regards the
spending and selling of all property as the purchase
of those vvho are relieved, and who vvill be the lands
and houses of the rich man in the heavenly city.
That this is his meaning vve see when he continues,
" For to this end did the Master make^you rich, that
you might perform these services unto Him ; and it
is much better to purchase such lands and possessions
and houses as you will find in your own city when
you come to reside in it" In another place^ he
speaks of Christians who acquire wealth and become
distinguished among the heathen as being "two-
thirds withered and only one-third green." St. Paul's^
¦* Simil., i.
^ "They who gave in their branches half green and half withered are
those who are immersed in business, and do not cleave to the saints.
And they who returned with their branches two-thirds withered and
one-third green arc those that were faithful indeed ; but after acquir
ing wealth, and becoming distinguished amongst the heathen, they
clothed themselves with great pride, and became lofty-minded, and
deserted the truth, and did not cleave to the righteous, but lived with
the heathen, and this way of life became more agreeable to them.
They did not, however, depart from God, but remained in the faith,
although not working the works of faith," — Herm,, Sim., vid. and ix.
•> Col. ii-. 5.

ASCETICISM OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE 41
twice-repeated phrase, " Covetousness, vvhich is idola
try," seems to be enlarged and explained by Polycarp
when he says,! " If a man do not keep himself from
covetousness, he shall be defiled with idolatry," He
means, I think, that eagerness to be rich will in
evitably bring a Christian into connection with those
demons vvho preside over the commerce ofthe world.
It is very noticeable that so many sayings of our
Lord on the advantages of poverty^ over wealth in
His kingdom are to be found in the synoptist evan
gelists. The fact of their preservation shows that
His teaching on the subject was very commonly
quoted, and therefore that His anticipations of
many men renouncing property for His sake had
been fully realised. St. James'* denunciation of the
rich and his solemn warnings to those vvho lay plans
for extended commerce seem quite in accord with
the early Christian ascetic view of wealth and
poverty. Leaving the subject of early Christian asceticism
as it affected the relation of the believer to the world
outside the Church, we pass to the consideration of
asceticism as a personal training, a discipline aiming
at the subjugation of man's flesh. There are two
main ways in vvhich this kind of personal asceticism
expresses itself — fasting and virginity. The Lord
1 ad Phil. xi.
- St. Matt, v, 3, xix. 23 ff. ; St. Mark x. 23 ff, ; St, Luke vi. 20,
xviii. 24 fi., etc,
•> St. James iv, 13, 14; and v, I ff.

42 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Himself! set for His disciples a great example of a
severe and prolonged fast He evidently expected
that His disciples vvould at least occasionally follow
this example. In His teaching fasting is not so
much enjoined- as presupposed. He does not bid
His followers fast, but, assuming that they vvill do so,
He lays down rules about the manner and spirit of
their fasting. Repeated examples from the scanty
records* vvhich survive for us of apostolic customs
show that they fully recognised fasting as a religious
duty, and as a means for obtaining special grace on
occasions of great importance. It is very interesting
to notice that later tradition came to ascribe to the
apostles an extreme severity in fasting. Thus St
Peter* is represented as saying, " I live on bread alone
with olives, and seldom even with pot herbs" — and of
St Matthew* we are told that he lived on "seeds
and nuts and vegetables, without flesh." A tradition
vvhich has some claim to be considered historical
relates of St James,^ the Lord's brother, that he led
a life of great austerity. These traditions are, at all
events, an evidence that the early Church regarded
the practice of fasting as a natural part of a very
virtuous life. It will not be necessary to do more
than mention the recognition in the Didache' of the
• St, Matt, iv, 2. 2 St, Matt. vi. i6, i8,
^ St. Luke V. 35; Acts xiii, 23; a. 30, xiv. 23; I Cor. vii. 5i
2 Cor. vi. 5, xi. 27. * Clem. Recog., vii. 6.
° Clem. Alex., Paid., ii. i.
° Heges., ap. Euseb., H.E., ii. 23. ' viii.

ASCETICISM OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE 43
two weekly fasts, and the fact that Hermas! evidently
observed stated seasons for fasting.
Very much more important, because more clearly
divided than fasting is from the life of ordinary
Christians, is the expression vvhich the ascetic spirit
finds in virginity. St John evidently regarded the
virgin life as one of special honour, and inheriting
a special reward. The hundred and forty and four
thousand 2 who are virgins follow the Lamb whither
soever He goeth, and learn the new song, which none
but they can learn. It is quite impossible that such
a passage could have been written by an apostle
unless virginity were recognised as a high and special
vocation. In St, Paul's* first Epistle to the Corinthians
vve have a description of a state of affairs which it is
very difficult to understand, unless vve suppose that
there existed at Corinth* a custom of spiritual be
trothal, by vvhich a man and woman bound them
selves together for a common pursuit of holiness,
' Sim., V. I, 2. ° Rev, xiv. 3, 4. ^ viL 25 and ff.
¦* "The whole of his" (St. Paul's, in i Corinthians) "argument does
not necessarily refer to actual incidents, but some of his instructions
do, seeing they quite clearly contest certain opinions actually enter
tained. Now here we have something quite different from the ancient
heathen tendency to sexual licence. On the contrary, the question
was raised as to the refusal of conjugal duty in marriage, and a kind
of union of men and women under an obligation to preserve their
virginity.". — Weizacker, Apostolic Age, iii, 4, vol. i. p. 323.
"Now if we review the whole discussion, it is indisputable that in
his decisions on all these questions — withdrawal in marriage, divorce,
virgins, and widows — Paul started from one conviction, that celibacy is
to be ranked higher than married life." — Ibid., v. 3, vol. ii, p. 38S.

44 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
but without actually entering upon the married state.
This custom, in spite of obvious drawbacks to it,
incurred no censure from the apostle, but met vvith
his definite approval. " He that standeth steadfast'
in his heart, having no necessity, but hath power as
touching his own will, and hath determined this in
his heart to keep his own virgin " — his partner, as 1
suppose, in spiritual bethrothal — "shall do well,"
Recent criticism justifies us in using the "Acts of
Paul and Thekla"^ as a document giving us an idea
of how Christians of the first or early second century
understood St. Paul's verbal teaching on the subject
of virginity. The apostle* is represented as saying,
" Blessed are they that keep themselves chaste,
because they shall be called the temples of God.
Blessed are the souls and bodies of virgins, for they
shall be pleasing to God, and shaU not lose the
reward of their chastity. Blessed are they that
despise the world, for they shall be pleasing to God."
We notice here the view of virginity as a state of
contempt for the world, a conception that, as I
believe, underlies all Christian asceticism. The
accusation of Thamyres,* a typical heathen, simply
exaggerates what the writer of the Acts recognises
as St Paul's teaching. "Who is yonder man vvho
' 1 Cor. vii. 37.
- Ramsay, Church in Roman Evipire ; Conybeare, Mon. of Early
Christianity. ' Conybeare, as above, "Acts of Paul and Thekla." 4, p 6-!.
* Ibid, II.

ASCETICIS^M OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE 45
ensnares the souls of young men and maidens, and
who gives commandment that there should be no
marriages at all?" There is no doubt that in the
very earliest times the conception of virginity as a
specially high kind of Christian life prevailed in the
Church. St. Ignatius writes ;! " If anyone can re
main in a state of celibacy to the honour of Him
who is Lord of the flesh, let him so remain without
boasting." Justin Martyr^ and Athenagoras both
boast of the number of those who for many years
have continued steadfast in virginity. There is a
suggestion that the possession of special spiritual
charismata vvas connected with the virgin state in
the mention of the seven daughters of Philip,* who
were virgins and prophesied, and in Polycrates' state
ment* about Melito of Sardis, that he was a celibate,
and "lived altogether in the Holy Spirit," a state
ment amplified and explained by TertuUian,* when
he says that by many people Melito vvas reckoned
as a prophet It is interesting to notice here that

' Ep. ad Poly c, v.
^ "And many, both men and women, who have been Christ's
disciples from childhood, remain pure at the age of sixty or seventy
years ; and I boast that I could produce such from every race of men."
— Just. Mart,, i. 15.
" Nay, you would find many among us, both men and women,
growing old unmarried, in the hope of living in closer communion
with God," — Athen,, xxxiiL
* Acts xxi. 9.
** Polyc, ap. Euseb., H.E., v. 24.
' Tertullian, ap. Jerome, De Vir. Illust., 24.

46 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
the Montanist prophetess! Prisca teaches this doc
trine : " Purity," i.e. chastity, " promotes unity," i.e.
with God, "and they [the pure] see visions." Here,
again, vve must remember that the great effort of
sexual asceticism among the early disciples answers
to the Lord's anticipation, that for the Kingdom^ of
Heaven's sake men will renounce the pleasures of
married life, and even do violence to their physical
nature in the struggle against their sexual desires.
There is a passage in the second book of his
ecclesiastical history in which Eusebius! quotes frora
Philo's De Vita Contemplivd what he takes to be a
description of the eariy Church in Egypt The
words with which he prefaces his quotation are
these:* "And the multitude ofthe believers, both
men and women, that were collected at the very out
set and lived lives of the most philosophic and
excessive asceticism vvas so great that Philo thought
it worth while to describe their meetings, their enter
tainments, and their whole manner of life." Now I
think there is no doubt that Philo was not describing
the early Church in Egypt, as Eusebius supposed. It
has been suggested* that the De Vitd Contemplivd is
a forgery written at the end of the third century, to
vvhich Philo's name was attached for the sake of
giving a spurious air of antiquity to the nascent
* TertuUian, Exhort, ad. Cast., x.
^ St. Matt, xix, 12,
' H.E., xvi. 2.
* Lucius, Die Therapeuten, p. 19S.

ASCETICISM OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE 47
monasticism of that time. More probably the book
is a genuine work of Philo describing a peculiar
Jewish sect analogous and allied to the Essenes.!
In any case, Eusebius is mistaken in quoting it as
a description of the early Egyptian Church. How
did Eusebius come to make such a mistake? It
seems to me most natural to suppose that Eusebius
was conscious of a tradition representing the early
Christian life as highly ascetic. He could find no
Christian authority to quote in support of such a
tradition, and pitched upon this work of Philo's as
giving him exactly what he wanted, although a
closer study of it vvould have shown him that the
people described could scarcely be supposed to be
Christians at all. However this may be, I think it
adds something to the evidence for the asceticism
of the early Christian life that Eusebius quoted Philo's
book as a description, not of a monastic order, but
of the entire Egyptian Church.
I can best sum up the conclusions at which I have
arrived in the words of Weizacker, which I take from
his Apostolic Age:^ "The members of the earliest
community continued to live fully and vigorously in
the words vvhich foreshadowed and enjoined the
highest renunciation, the renunciation of family
happiness, as well as, generally, of every blessing
' See F. C. Conybeare, Philo: About the Contemplative Life, pp.
258 and flf. Conybeare's treatise seems to me quite conclusive in
favour of the Philonic authorship.
^ pp. 347, 34S.

48 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
of life. No price was too high to pay for following
Jesus — home, property, means, fortune, hope, good
name, and, in the end, life itself."
While, however, we must conceive of the primitive
Christian life as highly ascetic, it is most important
to realise that this asceticism was instinctive, un
reasoned, unorganised. We meet in early Christian
literature with nothing at all resembling the deliberate
effort after a special piety by organised conquest of
the flesh and flight from the world which is
characteristic of later monasticism. We , do not
even find a reasoned depreciation of physical enjoy
ment like that of the Egyptian hermits or of
Origen, To the primitive Christian the position of
aloofness from the world and its pleasures was an
entirely natural result of his love for the Master,
" What the soul is in the body, that are Christians
in the world," ! " The soul, when but ill-provided
with food and drink, becomes better ; the Christians,
though subjected day by day to punishment, increase
the more in number. God has assigned them this
illustrious position which it were unlawful for them
to forsake."^ Here is one side of the spirit of the
primitive asceticism. The world hated them, and
no wonder, for the world first hated Him. It is a
very necessity of their position that the world should
punish them. But they rejoice in this position. It
is "illustrious," The world feels Christianity to be
' Ep. ad Diogn., vi. " Ibid.

ASCETICISM OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE 49
something strange and hostile. The Christian accepts
the judgment and responds: "If we are strange to
the world, surely also the world is strange to us."
" It is not by ruling over his neighbours, or by
seeking to hold supremacy over those that are
weaker, or by being rich," ! that a man can become
an "imitiator of God." But' "if you love Him, you
vvill be an imitator of His kindness." " pie desires
to lead us to trust in His kindness, so that vve shall
not be anxious about clothing and food." Self-
restraint, simplicity, and chastity are " the daughters
of each other"* — the daughters and grand- daughters
of faith. Here is another side of this instinctive
asceticism. The Christian loves his Master. He
does not therefore greatly care about food and
clothes, or being rich or ruling others. Self-restraint
is the natural consequence — " the daughter " — of his
faith and love. There vvas underlying the whole
thought of the primitive Church a certain splendid
optimism about nature and even about society. " To
the pure all things are pure";* "All things are
yours " ;* " The Kingdom of God is not meat and
drink."® From the very nature of the Church's first
position this optimism vvas but dimly felt, formed no
part of the working Christian life. That was based
upon an instinctive isolation from the world. " We
' Ep. ad Diog7i., x. - Ibid., ix.
' Herm., Vis., iii, 8. ¦* Titus i, 15,
' 1 Cor. iii, 21. ^ Rom, xiv, 17.

50 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
know " — this is the dominant note. " We know! j-jj^j.
we are of God, and the whole world lieth under the
power of the evil one." Nevertheless the optimism
vvas there, and vvas strong in the greatest minds.
Even the most tainted institutions of paganism were
not felt to be in themselves essentially bad. St
Paul's- great metaphorical use of the racecourse
shows us that it was possible to recognise some
element of nobleness even amid such corrupt sur
roundings as the exhibitions of the amphitheatre.
It seems quite clear that this condition could not
endure. Sooner or later men are always forced to
understand and justify the things they do. The
Church soon began to feel the necessity of defining
and explaining her moral position. Her very growth
forced this upon her. A great question came very
soon to demand an answer. How far is it possible
for a Christian, continuing faithful, to live the life of
the world ? In other words, must the Christian life
always be an ascetic one ?
As Christianity spread there were drawn into the
Church men of various trades and professions. There
came, for example, a magistrate ; but he accepted the
Christian faith vvith something like the request of
Naaman the Syrian on his lips:* "In this the Lord
pardon thy servant, that when my master goeth into
the house of Rimmon to worship, and I bow myself
there in the house of Rimmon, the Lord pardon
^ I St. John V. 19. » I Cor. ix. 24. » 2 Kings v. iS.

ASCETICISM OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE 51
thy servant in this thing." For if a magistrate did
not himself sacrifice, he almost necessarily lent his
authority to sacrifices.! He was bound to receive
oaths made in the names of Pagan deities, and to
make proclamations of idolatrous festivals. Could a
man in such an office be a Christian? Or perhaps
a soldier^ is offered a chaplet in the name of his
emperor, to be worn in honour of some god. Must
this man choose between sacrificing his commission
and apostatising from the faith ? Or, again, an artist
is converted to Christianity. His trade is the making
of images or the gilding of temple ornaments.* "This
is my trade," he pleads ; " by this I make my bread."
Or, perhaps, " I have entered into contract to perform
this work. I do not worship the images which I
make." What is to be said to this man ? It is
possible to reply : " Earn money ! But the Lord
prefers the poor. Under contract! None can serve
two masters. Take up your cross. Make, but not
worship ! Is not the sweat of your brow a libation
more costly than that of wine ? " So it was possible
to ansvver in the spirit of asceticism. So some, and
among them the very purest and most enthusiastic
of the Church's children, did actually ansvver in this
and similar cases. But, also, it vvas possible to hesi
tate, and in the end to answer quite otherwise. On
^ TertuUian, De Idol, xvii.
' Tertullian, De Cor. Mill., ii.
' De Idol.,-v. vi. and xii.

52 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
the one side is the noble and rare spirit before vvhich
vve bow when we recognise it, the spirit which sees
nothing clearly except Christ, and the world only as
a " moving shadow show." On the other side is
that gentler spirit to vvhich even weakness seems
lovable, and the bondage of life's necessities full of
pathos. But apart from the conversion of such per
sons as magistrates and artists, the same problem
vvas forcing itself upon the Church from inside.
There were children of Christian parents vvho loved
the faith too well to think of becoming apostates,
and yet who lacked the impassioned conviction of
the first converts. These came gradually! to feed
delicately, to introduce into their feasts the music of
hired minstrels.^ There were ladies who clothed them
selves in gauzy silks,* who wore gold-embroidered
shoes,* vvho bared white throats in emptying the wine
cup.^ There were rich people in the great cities vvho
furnished their houses with costly vessels,'' who slept
luxuriously in elaborately carved beds.' Such people
had something to say for themselves. Every creature
of God, they urged, is good and to be received vvith
thanksgiving. The primitive instinct of renunciation
no longer shaped their lives.
The whole problem became acute in the question
about the theatre and the circus. These of all the
' Clem. Alex., Paid., ii. i.
2 Paid., ii. 4. 3 jii^j^^ ;,_ j, 4 /^/^^ ;; ,2_
* Ibid., ii. 2. 6 Ji,iii_^ ii 2. 7 /l,jj_^ ii_ 3_

ASCETICISM OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE 53
institutions of the pagan world seemed least reclaim-
able. Down even to the days of Chrysostom, under
a Christian emperor, the public games were the sub
ject of Christian invective. Yet there were those
among the early Christians who claimed their right
to be present at such exhibitions. To our ears their
arguments have a curiously familiar sound. "Artistic
enjoyment is not contrary to the law of God." " AU
things, including the bodily strength of the athlete
and the musical voice of the singer, come from God,
and are good." " The matter is a doubtful one.
There is no law of God which distinctly forbids
bur presence at a theatre."!
We see how impossible it vvas for the old instinc
tive antagonism to the world, the simple, unreasoned
asceticism of the apostolic age, to continue dominant
in wider communities. Already in the very first times
a step had been taken along the road of secularising
life by the apostles themselves. The simplest follow
ing in the very steps of the Lord had fashioned the
Church at Jerusalem into a communistic brotherhood.
The abandonment of this way of living followed the
pressure of circumstance. It was, no doubt, the
result of discovering the impossibility of communism
in a body that vvas growing and spreading.
In the generation vvhich succeeded the apostles
the question of the relation of the Christian life
to the life of the world had to be faced, A great
' Tertullian, De Spectac, i. 2.

54 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
problem vvas involved, one of really more import
ance than many whose solution has occupied whole
volumes of Church history. For, is not this the
most important question of all — ¦" What is the
Christian life? Is it necessarily ascetic? Is it ever
ascetic ? "

CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM IN
THE SECOND AND THIRD CENTURIES

"He saves the sheep, the goats he doth not save."
• . ¦ . .
So spake the fierce TertuUian. But she sighed.
The infant Church ! Of love she felt the tide
Stream on her from her Lord's yet recent grave.
And then she smiled ; and in the Catacombs,
With eye suffused but heart inspired true,
On those walls subterranean, where she hid
Her head 'mid ignominy, death, and tombs.
She her Good Shepherd's hasty image drew —
And on His shoulders, not a lamb, a kid,
Matthew Arnold,
Vou stand as a god free to choose. On the one hand you have
the delights of reason and inteUect, the beauty of that wonderful
creation which God made, yet did not keep ; the charms of the
divine philosophy, and the enticements of the poet's art ; on the
other side Jesus. You know Him and have seen Him. I need
say no more of His perfections.
I offer you nothing but the alternative which every man sooner
or later must put before himself. Shall he turn a deaf ear to the
voice of reason, and lay himself open only to thS light of faith ?
Or shall he let human wisdom and philosophy break up this light,
as through a glass, and please himself with the varied colours upon
the path of life? Every man must choose, and having chosen, it
is futile to lament or regret ; he must abide by his choice.
I do not look upon you as lost, Mr. Inglesant — far from il. I
expect you will yet witness a good confession for Christ in the world
and in the court ; but I beUeve you have had n. more exceUent way
shown you, which, but for the trammels of your birth and training,
you might have had grace to walk in for your own exceeding blessed
ness and the greater glory of the Lord Christ. John Irrglesant, chap. xix.

CHAPTER III
CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM IN
THE SECOND AND THIRD CENTURIE!
THE first great crisis in the history of the Chui
was occasioned by her struggle vvith Gno;
cism. It is impossible to describe in a few woi
such complex phenomena as the various Gnos
sects. For the student of Christian monasticis
however, it is sufficient to recognise that the Christi
Gnostics engaged in a series of attempts to bri
the faith into connection with the phUosop]
systems and the wisdom of the different myster
of the ancient world.! They tried to give Chi
tianity a place in a great coherent system of t
universe. This vvas a task which ultimately had
be undertaken by the Church herself. It becai
necessary, because Christianity came into cont;
with philosophy. The faith was forced to give sat
faction to the intellect, and to provide a basis mc
secure than mere emotion for the brotherly love a
instinctive purity of the first disciples. The Gnost

58 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
hastily. Their leaders had very imperfectly assimi
lated the faith they were so anxious to phUosophise,
The Gnostic sects differed very widely from each
other, but they agreed in starting from a common
assumption. The world, it appeared to them all,
could not have been made, and cannot be governed
by a wise and good God. Matter is essentially an
evil thing. It stands in opposition to God as dark
ness to light and evil to good. That part of man
vvhich is distinct from matter, his spirit, is held in
disgraceful bondage to the flesh. On its intellectual
side this theory necessitated the building of vast
systems of spiritual principalities meant to connect
the incarnate Redeemer with the "most high God.
On its moral side it involved either a gloomy
asceticism like that practised, for instance, by the
Encratites, or, on the other hand, a doctrine of the
complete indifference of good and evil. Here, then,
is an answer to the question which confronted the
Church about asceticism. There is no hesitancy or
doubt about the Gnostic answer. The world and the
flesh are inherently evil. Therefore the Christian
life must be severely ascetic. Thus the Gnostic
Marcion,! as a logical consequence of his doctrine of
the evil of matter, teaches that none can receive the
benefits of baptism unless they are living in celibacy,
and condemns marriage as impure. Tatian ^ and the
Encratites taught the necessity of abstinence from
' TertuUian, Adv. Marc, i. 29. = Iren., Adv. Haer., i. 28.

EARLY CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 59
wine and animal food, and declared that marriage
was nothing else than corruption and fornication.
The Severians,! although they were widely separated
in other respects from the followers of Tatian, taught
the same severe asceticism. Julius Cassianus,^ in
his book, De Castitate, preached the sinfulness of
marriage. It is clear that this Gnostic asceticism is something
entirely diflferent from that of the apostolic Church.
The instinctive renunciation has disappeared, and in
its place we have a reasoned theory of the world,
resulting in contempt for the body. There was much
in this theory which must have been and which was
attractive to the Christian conscience. It won over,
for instance, Tatian, the disciple of Justin Martyr. Yet
the Church rejected it definitely, decisively, and for
ever, because of the principle on which it was based.
The heritage of tbe Jewish scriptures saved her. She
refused to see in Jehovah a being certainly feeble and
probably bad. With a faith which is deeply pathetic,
and under her circumstances very wonderful, she
clung to the belief that the whole creation of God
is good, although the world's way of life was
supremely bad.* Therefore she held that the
¦¦ Euseb., H.E., iv. 29. ^ Clem. Alex., Strom., iiL 13.
' "Seit dem Ende des zweiten Jahrhunderts war es fiir immer in
der Kirche festgestellt, dass der Glaube an jenen principiellen
Dualismus zwischen Gott und Welt, Geist und Natur unvereinbar sei
mit dem Christentum, unvereinbar mit ihm darum auch jede Askese,
die sich auf jenem Dualismus stutzt." — Hamack, Das Monchtum,
p. 14.

6o CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Gnostic theology was heretical, and the Gnostic
theory of asceticism vvas intolerable.
The struggle with Gnosticism postponed the
Church's solution of the ascetic problem. Indeed, it
even produced a certain reaction against asceticism.
Dionysius, Bishop of Corinth, in the year 170, the
same vvho attacked the system of the Gnostic
Marcion, wrote a letter to Pinytus of Cnossus,! in
vvhich he shows a dread of ascetic teaching even
where it is unconnected with any suspicion of heresy.
He exhorts Pinytus "not to lay upon the brethren
a grievous and compulsory burden in regard to
chastity." Irenasus^ quotes both from the Old and
New Testaments in favour of a similar mildness of
teaching. Clement of Alexandria* shows a definite
shrinking from strong asceticism, not only on the
question of marriage, but also of poverty.
Before the struggle with Gnosticism was at an end,
a new danger was threatening the development of
the Church. The Gnostics came from without
They threatened to import into Christianity frag
ments of various religions, to make the creed a
patchwork of strange philosophies and faiths. The
new danger came from within the circle of the
Church herself Montanism, at least the Montanism.
which really threatened, the Montanism, for instance,
' Euseb., H.E., iv, 23.
^ Adv. Haer., iv. 152.
•* Clera. Alex., Strom., ii, 23 ; ibid., Quis Dives Salvetur.

EARLY CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 6i
of Tertullian, owed nothing to either pagan religion
or pagan philosophy. It was a purely Christian
movement The Gnostic heresies generally involved
an ascetic theory of the Christian life, but the
asceticism was a deduction from their principles, and
not in itself the essence of their position. Their
principles could have been, and were occasionally,
worked out quite differently, and gave as a result
a life of gross self-indulgence. The case of the
Montanists is altogether different With them there
is no philosophic question involved. The whole
struggle tumed on the question of the Christian life.
Since Ritschl wrote his Geschichte der Altkatkoliscken
Kirche historians have recognised that the essential
characteristic of Montanism is not doctrine, but
morality. It is, in fact, a mistake to regard Mon
tanism as a heresy. It is true that to us there
seems, at first sight, something wildly heretical in
the Montanist claim to special inspiration. Now
that it is a very axiom of all forms of Christianity
that the books of the New Testament canon stand
apart from all other Christian writings, and hold a
unique position as a final court of appeal, a sect
which claimed direct inspiration supplementary to
that of the New Testament could not faU to be
recognised at once as heretical. In the second
century, however, the circumstances were entirely
different. Justin Martyr regards the gift of pro
phecy, inspired in the same sense as the. Hebrew

62 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
prophecy vvas inspired,! as a gift, given of necessity,
to the followers of Christ Irenseus^ cannot endure
heretics vvho refuse to recognise the gift of prophecy
as existing in the Church. Hermas* is only con
cerned to distinguish the genuine inspiration of the
Holy Ghost from the spurious utterances of false
prophets. Even in the extravagant* form of the
Montanist prophecy there was nothing vvhich vvould
strike the Christian of the second or early third
century as absurd. Montanus* regards the prophet
as having the same relation to the spirit as the lyre
to the plectrum ; in other words, the prophecy is
purely ecstatic. But this is really nothing more
than vvhat Athenagoras^ says about the Old Testa
ment prophets : " God moved the mouths of the
prophets like musical instruments."
Nor was there anything necessarily heretical in the
contents of the Montanist prophecy .'' On the great
fundamentals of the Christian faith the Montanists
were distinctly orthodox. " The rule of faith," says
Tertullian,^ " is altogether one, alone immoveable and
irreformable ; the rule, to wit, of believing in one
God omnipotent, the Creator of the universe, and
His Son Jesus Christ, born of the Virgin Mary,
' Dial. Tryph., 87.
^ Adv. Haer., iii. n, 9, and i. 13, 3. ^ jifand., xi.
* See Bonwetsch, Geschichte des Montanismus, pp. 57 and ff.
' Epiph., ii. 1-48. « Athen., Supp. p. Christ., vii.
' See Bonwetsch, as before, pp. 69 and ff.
» De Virg. Vel., i.

EARLY CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 6^
cracified under Pontius Pilate, raised again the
third day from the dead, sitting now at the right
hand of God the Father, destined to come to judge
the quick and the dead through the resurrection of
the flesh." The one point in the Montanist teaching
which seems now to bear an heretical appearance,
their expectation of an immediate Second Advent
of the Lord, had a little earlier been almost universal -
in the Church. On the whole, vve may be safe in
thinking that the Montanists had no quarrel vvith
the Church's dogmatic position. The entire interest
of Tertullian and the sect generally is concentrated
on questions of morality and discipline. At first
sight it would seem as if the questions of morality
raised by the Montanists were trifling, and quite
inadequate to account for the vigour and persistence
of their schism. It does not seem to be a matter of
supreme importance whether a man fasts completely
or partially during certain hours of a fast day.! -phe
violent objection of the Montanists^ to second
marriages is difficult to understand. Questions as
to the dress of virgins,* the wearing of garlands, and
attendance at places of public amusement do not
seem to be of first-rate importance. In reality all
these points, however trivial in themselves, expressed
a difference in principle and ideal between the Church
* TertuUian, De Jejun.
* Tertullian, Ad uxor. , I. vit ; De Monog.
' Tertullian, De Vir. Vel, iii. ; De Coron.

64 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
and the Montanists. During the second and third
centuries Christians were changing their attitude
towards the world. They were learning to look
upon it less as a strange country in vvhich they
were for a time domiciled, and more as a home.
The life of the Church vvas becoming rapidly assimi-
lated to the life of the world. Christians claimed the
right to be in the fullest sense citizens of the empire
as well as members of the Church. They came to
recognise the world's ambitions of wealth and power
as legitimate for them also. Pleasure and luxury, so
far as they involved no direct transgression of one of
God's commandments, were enjoyed without the
disapproval of the Church. More and more men
learned to shrink from martyrdom and to avoid it
The fiery spirit of St. Ignatius, which gloried in the
prospect of the final trial of his faith, became rare.
The supernatural occupied by degrees a less promi
nent place in Christian life, or vvas deliberately pushed
backed into the past. Miracles became rarer, and
men ceased to expect them. The charismata of
prophecy and speaking vvith tongues were super
seded, as means of grace, by the ordered ministra
tions of bishops and priests. Private revelations,
inspired interpretations, and visions tended to dis
appear. As the canon of the New Testament was
fixed, direct inspiration came to be regarded as
peculiar to the apostolic age. The Church ceased,
as a whole, to live in daily expectation of her Lord's

EARLY CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 65
retum. She organised her communities and settled
her constitution as if she realised that her stay in the
world was to be a long one.
All this amounts to a compromise between the
earliest Christian spirit and the world. It was partly
a result of the Church's growth. It was altogether
impossible for the ever-increasing bodies of Christians
to exist without a distinct and powerful organisation.
It could not but be that the old conviction of the
rulership of the powers of evil over the world should
grow feebler in communities which found themselves
becoming an important factor in the world's politics.
It was also a necessary condition of further progress.
It is impossible to conceive how the Lord's ideal for
His Church could ever have been arrived at by a sect
tied hand and foot by Puritanism.. If she was " to
cover the earth as the waters cover the sea,"^ if " the
nations of the world were to walk in her light and
kings bring their glory and honour into her,"- it must
be by a certain compromise between the old asceti
cism and the great ways of humanity.
Nevertheless, the compromise was not made with
out evoking strong protests. It was viewed with
grave distrust by many Christians, and these not
the least worthy of the name they bore. Naturally
it was in the great centres of Christian life, where
the Church's development was most complete, that
the discontent of the conservative Puritan party was
1 Isa. xL 9. ^ Rev. xxi. 24.

66 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
most strongly felt I conceive of the appearance of
the Montanist prophecy as the occasion and not the
cause of the protest made in a conservative spirit
against the way on vvhich the Church was going,
Therefore it seems to me that speculations such as
that of Neander! about the connection between the
Montanist prophecy and the cult of Cybele in
Phrygia are quite unimportant in a study of the
true meaning of Montanism. The strife really lay
between a party of advance and a party of reaction,
and the new prophecy was only seized on by the
latter as a divine support for convictions held alto
gether independently of the utterances of the
prophets. Thus it appears of no very great im
portance to distinguish between TertuUian's pre-
Montanistic and post-Montanistic writings. Ter
tuUian's essential position was not altered by his
acceptance of the new prophecy. While still a
member of the Church, he was in spirit a reactionary
and a Puritan. After he became a Montanist he
regarded the Paraclete who inspired the prophecy
as a "restorer and not an inventor of Christian
morality."^ As an example of the reactionary
nature of the Montanist teaching let us take the
question of marriage. Tertullian is utterly opposed
to the Gnostic view of marriage. " Heretics," he
says,* "do away with marriage," but he is equally
1 Church History, Bohn's Library Translation, vol. ii. p. 204.
^ De Monog., iv.
^ De Monog., L See also Adv. Marc, iv. 34, and De Animd, 27.

EARLY CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 67
opposed to the laxity of the Church in permitting
second marriages. "Psychics," i.e. Catholics, "accu
mulate them. The former marry not even once,
the latter not only once" (Illi nec semel, isti non
semel nubunt). He values the virgin state as of
superior sanctity! to the married. But there is
nothing new in either of these two positions.
Justin Martyr,^ Athenagoras,* Theophilus,* and
Irenseus* had held the same positions. In the
process of her development, however, the Church
had come to confine the ideal of a single marriage
to the clergy,® and had permitted ordinary members
to marry more than once., Tertullian was merely
contending for a return to the earlier standpoint
of the Christian communities. It is true that the
New Testament was against the absolute prohibi
tion of second marriages, and it is just at this point
that the value of the Montanist claim to special in
spiration becomes apparent Taking his stand upon
this new revelation, Tertullian boldly declares that
the Paraclete^ has superseded the teaching of St Paul
about second marriages in the same way that our
Lord had superseded the Mosaic teaching about
divorce. This may be taken as a fair example of the
Montanist position on each of the various points
> Adv. Marc, i. 2g. ^ Apol., i. 29.
' Athen., Suppl, 33. * Theoph., Ad Auiol, iii. 15.
' Iren., Adv. Haer., iii. 17, 2. ° TertuUian, Adux., 1. 7.
'' De Monog., xiv.

68 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
at issue. They claimed, and justly claimed, to be
returning to the primitive practice of the Church.
They tried to enforce their return by an appeal to
the contents of the new prophecy. The whole
position vvas a reaction against the complete adop
tion by the Church of the life of the world. In this
lay the secret of its attraction for men like TertuUian.
The Phrygian prophecy only formed the axis round
which the scattered elements of conservatism crystal
lised into a sect. The object which Tertullian and
his adherents had in view was the re-establishment
of the old ascetic standard of Christian living, at
a time when asceticism vvas ceasing to be a mark
of Christianity. Montanism failed of its object The
Church had the choice of ways placed fairly before
her. She might have been a Puritan sect sitting
aloof from humanity, snatching, now and then, a soul
out of the world as a brand from the burning. She
chose rather to be the Catholic Church. She accepted
her mission to the world, and went on her way into
streets teeming with humanity, and market-places
clamorous with the voices of those who buy and
sell. The rejection of Montanism constitutes the
Church's final answer to the question, " Must the
Christian . life be ascetic?" In answering this ques
tion the struggle vvith Gnosticism was the first and
that with Montanism the second great crisis through
vvhich the Church passed. The Gnostics had
answered, "Yes. Asceticism is the necessary form

EARLY CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 69
of all Christian life, because spirit and matter stand
irreconcilably opposed to one another." The Mon
tanists likewise answered, "Yes. We deny indeed
the Gnostic conception of dualism, but we hold that
the Christian Hfe must be ascetic. It was so of old,
and it is declared so to be by our prophets, who speak
the words of the Holy Ghost" The Church refused
both these answers. She cast off the Gnostics
because she was true to Jehovah, and the Mon
tanists because she was true to her ideal, faithful
to her mission. She refused to be hampered in her
dealings with the world by a spirit which insisted
on hfer standing altogether apart from the world.
Already, in the realisation of her episcopal organi
sation, she was preparing to take her place among
the rulers of the world, to be the controller of its
policies, the inspirer of its laws. In the schools of
Alexandria she was claiming for her own the world's
philosophies, learning to use them as instruments to
shape her creeds. Very timidly in the catacombs
she was venturing even to inspire a new spirit into
Art Her children scratched upon the tombstones
of the faithful an anchor or a fish. They rudely
depicted the Good Shepherd with a kid, not a
Iamb, upon His shoulders. It was in Irensus'
theory of the episcopate, in Clement's teaching
about the Gnosis, in the art of the fossors in their
caves, and not in the impassioned protests of Ter
tullian, that the promise of the future lay. In the

70 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
third century the Church had entered upon her
mission of subduing the world for Christ. All that
St. John's disciples understood by "the world" —
the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, the
glory of life, all the multitudinous activities of
humanity, its thought and loves, even its limitations —
the Church was claiming for Christ, was pressing into
His service. Against the progress of this new spirit
Montanism entered a solemn protest— the protest
of the ascetic spirit. " Its voice was heard warning
the bishops and their flocks of the forthcoming
secularisation. It held up in opposition to the
worldly Christian that well-known law of the fol
lowing of Christ in a literal sense, and longed for
a return to the original simplicity and purity."! The
Montanists looked back vvith desire on the old ways.
They loved rather the aggregate of communities,
bound together by supernatural ties and brotherly
love — the simpler following of Jesus without reasoned
theologies, the free voice of the Spirit in their midst,
and, above all, the primitive aloofness from the world,
its art and its pleasures.
The Church's decision was made and her way
settled when she rejected Montanism, but she had
yet to deal with further efforts of the same spirit to
subdue her and guide her course. Montanism was
strongest in Asia Minor and in North Africa. Hard
upon it came another protest, this time confined to
* Harnack, Monchtum, p. i6.

EARLY CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 71
the diocese of Rome. At the beginning of the third
century the Roman Church was divided into two
parties. The larger part of the Church owned
Callixtus! as their Bishop. His name has come
down to us in the lists of the Bishops of Rome, and
we must therefore speak of the other party as
schismatic. Hippolytus, a learned and respected
theologian, was its leader, and claims for himself the
title of Bishop.^ The fact that he persistently refuses
to recognise Callixtus as Bishop of Rome leads us
to infer that he himself claimed that title. We have
only one account of the history of this schism,
which is given us by Hippolytus himself.* He
makes a series of definite charges against Callixtus,
accusing him of heterodoxy, immorality, and an
unchristian Church policy. It does not appear that
any very strong case could be made at the time
against the orthodoxy of Callixtus. Even Hippolytus
himself does not seem to be altogether satisfied on
the point. It is certainly clear that there would have
been no schism in Rome if the Bishop's doctrinal
position had been the only or even the main reason
for dissent. On the other hand, the charges against
the personal character of Callixtus are definite
enough. Hippolytus declares him to have been a
slave who robbed his master, a banker who I'obbed
1 DoUinger, Hippolytus und Callixtus, and Salmon, Infallibility of
the Church, pp. 384 and ff.
^ Hippolytus, Refutation, ix. 7. ^ Hippolytus, as above.

72 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
his clients, a convict who escaped from the mines by a
fortunate accident His after-life, if unstained by
actual crime, is condemned by Hippolytus as hypo
critical. We have no source of information which
would enable us to check the accuracy of these
accusations, but they wear an air of improbabUity on
their face. Callixtus was Bishop of Rome, and it is
not likely that he could have retained the allegiance
of the bulk of the Roman Christians, clergy and
laity, had he been so bad a man as Hippolytus
represents. At all events, the fact that he vvas elected
and remained Bishop is sufficient to show that his
private character cannot have been such as to have
given rise to a schism. Moreover, I think that a
careful perusal of Hippolytus' account of Callixtus
will leave a candid reader with the impression that
the question of doctrine and the question of private
morality were dragged in by Hippolytus as additional
justification of his quarrel with Callixtus, and did not
constitute the fundamental matter at issue. The
real difference between the Church party and the
followers of Hippolytus vvas the Church policy of
the Roman Bishop. This seems to have been of the
most liberal and advanced kind. Callixtus gave
absolution! to those who had committed sensual
sins, and admitted them to the communion of the
Church. Pie permitted persons who had been twice
and even three times married to remain in the ranks
' Hippolytus, Refutation, ix. 7,

EARLY CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 73
of the clergy,! and allowed those who had married
after taking Holy Orders to retain their oflSces. He
allowed women of the upper classes to make
marriages of a kind which, Hippolytus says, led to
gross immorality. Besides these definite points of
objection there are more or less Vcigue suggestions
that the standard of morality among the adherents
of Callixtus was lower than that of what Hippolytus
calls the Church. He says crowds attend the school
of Callixtus^ for the sake of pleasures which Christ
does not permit Callixtus defended his policy and
the condition of the Church by reference to the ark
of Noah,* which contained both clean and unclean
animals, and by an appeal to our Lord's words in
the parable of the wheat and the tares, " Let both
grow together until the harvest"* To us such an
interpretation of the parable seems entirely natural.
To Hippolytus it was a crowning instance of daring
and impious innovation. No one, I suppose, now
doubts that in this parable the Lord foreshadowed
the mixture of good and evil which has ever been the
normal condition of the Church on earth. In the
third century this was not so clear, and Callixtus
seem® to have been the first who ventured to inter
pret the parable in this way. I think we need feel
no difficulty in recognising the schism of Hippolytus
as parallel to that of the Montanists. It is wholly
impossible to suppose, as Hippolytus suggests, that
1 Ihid., ix. 7. ^ Ibid. ' Ibid. * St. Matt. xiii. 30.

74 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Callixtus vvas a man inspired by the diabolic idea of
debasing the morality of Christian people. It is
much simpler to think of Hippolytus as a Puritan
bent upon maintaining a certain ascetic standard of
Christian living and bitterly opposed to the com
promise vvhich the Church vvas everywhere making
with the world. We need not conceive of Calli.xtus
as a man of saintly character or far-seeing political
sagacity. Probably his policy was dictated by
motives of simple expediency. There was at Rome
in his time a sect called the Elkasites,! whose leader
Aleibiades maintained an active propaganda of their
opinions. The morality of this sect vvas of the
loosest possible description. They bought converts
by condoning every kind of sin. Hippolytus tells us
that Aleibiades was encouraged to come to Rome by
the accounts he heard of the lax Church discipline of
Callixtus. Perhaps we may venture to guess that
Hippolytus has here inverted cause and effect, and
that in reality Callixtus pursued his policy of milder
discipline in order to save from the worse condemna
tion of heresy some who had fallen into gross sins
and might have been driven by despair into the
company of the Elkasites. This is of course simply
a guess, with nothing to recommend it except a
certain plausibility. It vvould account for a man,
such as we may conceive Callixtus to have been,
taking certain definite steps along the road of
^ Hippolytus, Refutation, ix. 8 and ff. Origen ap. Eusebius, vi. 38.

EARLY CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 75
secularisation on which the Church had already
entered. Whatever may be said, however, about
this particular guess, it remains probable, if not
certain, that the schism of Hippolytus was, as I have
suggested, a protest made in the ascetic spirit against
the Church's policy, similar to that of the Montanists.
It is interesting to notice that TertuUian,! j^j Qjje of
his latest writings, seems to have attacked the very
same policy of Callixtus which was the cause of the
schism of Hippolytus. It naturally occurs to us to
ask : Why did not Hippolytus himself join the
Montanists instead of classing them, as he does, among
heretics? I can only suppose that the Montanists
at this time were a very unimportant factor in the
religious life of Rome. Hippolytus^ writes of them
as one to whom their position was only known at
second hand. His account of them is brief, and
dwells almost entirely on the absurdity of their
prophets' claim to special inspiration. He seems to
know nothing of Tertullian, or if he knows his
writings, refrains frora any condemnation of them.
It seems therefore likely that Hippolytus did not
understand the true meaning of the Montanist
schism, or how nearly his own position coincided
with theirs.
One more great schism remains to be named. The
Novatians made the last great struggle against
» Salmon, Infallibility, p. 382. On the date of De Pudic
2 Hippolytus, Refutation, viii. 12.

76 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
the secularisation of the life of the Church, One
sin remained worse than murder or adultery, the
crowning iniquity of denying Christ. It was against
the Church's desire to readmit the lapsed to com
munion that the Novatians protested.
Henceforth the Church is catholic in her wide
gentleness towards every weakness of humanity, in
her merciful love for all sinners who are ready to
submit to her. She has travelled far from the
original conception of a community of saints, all
washed, all sanctified, all justified ; far from the
ideal of that little company of disciples vvho stood
aloof from the whole world lying under the power
of the evil one, who could not sin because the seed
of Him! was abiding in them. Instead of a com
munity of saints, the Church has become a school
for righteousness. Instead of an unworldly brother
hood, she has grown to be a great world-power, bent
upon the reform of all life and the education of all
humanity. This is her answer to the question : Must the
Christian life be ascetic? Some, and they not the
least worthy of her children, asserted vehemently
that it must The Church said : No. In view of
her mission to the world, she cannot and will
not refuse to open her gates as wide as pos
sible. Nevertheless, there was in the protests of
the Puritan sects, of Tertullian, Hippolytus, and
! I St. John iii. 9.

EARLY CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 77
Novatian, an element of truth. Asceticism does
form a part of the teaching of Christ The perfect
way of following Him must ever be by contempt
of the world. His words about hating! father and
mother, and wife and child, for His sake, about
selling* all and following Him in poverty like His
own poverty, about making* of oneself a eunuch
for the Kingdom of Heaven's sake, were not spoken
without purpose and meaning. They set forth an
ideal which is the very salt preserving the body
from corruption. They display an eispect of Chris
tianity which cannot be neglected, which has
never allowed itself to be forgotten. Thus when
the first question about asceticism has been asked
and answered — when it is clear that all Christian
life cannot be kept to this ascetic standard — th^re
remsiins another question : How does asceticism
come into the scheme of Christian living? What
is the relation of asceticism to the common life of
the Church ?
AU the while that the Puritan sects were making
their protests this second question was beginning to
find for itself an ansvver. In Asia Minor arid in
North Africa the members of the Church who valued
asceticism had naturally ranged themselves with the
Montanists. In Rome they had gathered round
Hippolytus and Novatian. In Syria and in Egypt
these sects had no great following. The ascetic
» St. Luke xiv. 26. "¦ St. Matt. xix. 21. ' St. Matt. xix. 12.

78 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
spirit irt these regions found for itself a different
expression, and succeeded in adapting itself to the
altered conditions of the Church's life. We may say
that in Asia Minor, Carthage, and Rome the ascetic
spirit entered upon a blind alley, a path that led no
further, when it protested by schism against the secu
larisation of the Christian life. In Syria and Egypt,
on the other hand, it entered upon the way of true
development It is here that we may trace the links
which connected the instinctive asceticism of the
apostolic age vvith the great movement which St.
Antony inaugurated, and which grew into Christian
monasticism. Some time during the latter half of the second
century. Narcissus,! Bishop of Jerusalem, retired
from his see into the wilderness. He was an
ascetic and a worker of miracles before his adoption
of a solitary life. To him, so far as vve know, belongs
the title of the first Christian hermit, although his
example vvas not followed by others. He retired
from the world and the Church because he could no
longer endure the struggle which his office entailed
against evil men and slanderous tongues. He made
no effort to gather disciples or to set up a purer
Church. Simply in obedience to an unconquerable
hunger for righteousness, he went away to find peace
and space for personal communion with his Lord.
Narcissus is, however, only a solitary example of
! Euseb., H.E., vi. 9.

EARLY CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 79
such a development of the ascetic life. Very much
more interesting are the ascetics described in the
Pseudo- Clementine epistles to virgins. I follow
Harnack and Zockler in supposing that these docu
ments belong to the early part of the third century,
and to the region of southem Syria. They consist
of a series of exhortations to certain ascetics who led
a wandering life and devoted themselves to the task
of exhorting and strengthening the brethren in the
various centres of Christian life which they visited.
Minute! regulations are laid down with a View to
the maintaining of personal purity, and a long list
of biblical examples are produced to show the value
of the ascetic life. The ascetics to whom these epistles
are addressed form an intermediate type^ between the
asceticism of the first Christianity and that of the
^ The ascetics of the Pseudo-Clementine epistles were exhorted not
'' to eat and drink with maidens at entertainments," not to " meet
together for vain and trifling conversation and merriment, speaking
evil of one another" (chap. x.). There were various regulations laid
down as to the behaviour of the ascetics in the different places they
stayed at during their wanderings. In a place where there are no
Christian men, but all believers are women and maidens, " We select
in order to pass the night there, a woman who is aged and the most
exemplary of them aU ; and we speak to her to give us a place all to
ourselves, where no woman enters, nor maiden" (i. chap. iv.). If
they came to a place and found there one believing woman only, they
fied from that place, not that they disdained the beUeving woman,
but because, she being alone, they were afraid lest anyone should
make insinuations against them in words of falsehoods. " For blessed
is that man who is circumspect and fearful in everything for the
sake of purity" (ii. chap. vi.).
' Zockler, Askese u. MSncht., pp. 178 and ff.

So CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Egyptian deserts. This is the idea vvhich Harnack!
gives us of them when he says, " Called into exist
ence by the mighty strength and spirituality of the
original impulse, their form of life could continue to
exist only so long as this impulse endured. After
wards it must either pass away or change into the
life of the hermitage." We are reminded, on the one
hand, in reading these epistles, of the prophets de
scribed in the Didache, and, on the other hand, there is
suggested to us the accounts which Cassian and St.
Jerome give of the wandering, unorganised monks of
the fourth century. We have in these ascetics a
survival of the original Christian spirit of aloofness
from the world, just as we have in Montanism. Here,
however, instead of making a reactionary protest, this
spirit adapted itself and found a position, which
although tenable only for a time, shows no trace
of opposition to the Church, or tendency towards
separation. It has been assumed that Eusebius^ knew nothing
of Egyptian monasticism, because he never mentions
St. Antony or any of the other great hermits. The
assumption appears to me an unsafe one. It is
certain that Eusebius did know of an ascetic life
distinctly different, and generally recognised and felt
to be different, from the life of ordinary members
' Harnack, Sitz.-Ber., p. 3S3,
2 Weingarten, art. "Monch.," P. R. E., 2nd ed., pp. 764-66; also
in Urspr. d. Monch, pp. 6-10.

EARLY CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 8i
of the Church. He speaks of this Ufe as being the
"perfect way,"! j^g even uses the name monks ^
(jjLovaxol) for the ascetics whom he describes, but
perhaps he means no more than that they were
apart from ordinary Christians in their manner of
life. It is clearly to be seen from his book on the
Martyrs of Palestine that there were at the end of
the third century, in the region of Syria, ascetics
living in full communion with the Church, and yet
occupying a position distinct from that of ordinary
Christians. Thus there is mention of Apphianus, an
"athlete of piety,"* that is to say, an ascetic. This
metaphorical use of the word athlete to denote an
ascetic striver after perfection probably had its origin
in St Paul's writings. It is common in the accounts
of the fourth-century Egyptian hermits. Ennathas,*
a woman, is adorned with a chaplet of virginity.
Peter,* vvho was martyred at Caesarea, was an
"ascetic." Of his friend PamphUus,® Eusebius re
lates that he despised the world and earthly hopes,
shared his possessions with the needy, and was cele
brated for philosophic deportment and asceticism.
The use of the words philosopher and philosophic
in this connection deserve "notice. Seleucus,'' once
a soldier, after he left the army set himself diligently
to imitate the religious ascetics.
From the same region we have a work called The
^ Dem. Evang., i. S, 9. ^ Comm. in Ps. IxviiL 7.
^ V. 2. * ix. 6. ' X. 2. ' xL 2. ^ xi. 20.

82 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Banquet of the Ten 'Virgins, written by Methodius,
Bishop of Tyre. This is a very interesting work,
consisting mainly of mystical speculations about the
value and sanctity of the virgin life. To us it is
especially valuable as a witness to the separation
which had taken place in the Church between those
vvho specially dedicated themselves to the service of
God by asceticism and virginity and those who
lived the life of ordinary citizens. The distinction
is clearly marked in Methodius' treatise. The ascetic
life is the higher and more honourable. Virgins
have the special honour of following the Lamb,
Himself the chief virgin,! whithersoever He goeth
Their number is but small, whereas the other saints
constitute a great multitude whom no man can
number. ^ Methodius speaks of virginity "as something supernaturally great,
wonderful, and glorious ; and to speak plainly, and in accordance with
the Holy Scriptures, this best and noblest manner of life alone is the
root of immortality, and also its flower and first fruits" (Dis. i. l). In
the fifth chapter he writes : " Our Lord preserved the flesh which He
had taken upon Him incorrupt in virginity, so that we also, if we
would come to the likeness of God and Christ, should endeavour to
honour virginity. For the likeness of God is the avoiding of corrup
tion." Passing on to Discourses vi. and vii,, we find other speculations
regarding the value and sanctity of the virgin life, " Our beauty is best
preserved undefiled and perfect, when protected by virginity — it is not
darkened by the heat of corruption from without — but, remaining in
itself, it is adorned with righteousness, being brought as a bride to the
Son of God" (vi, 3). "The praises of virgimty," writes Methodius,
"are quite clear, in the Song of Songs, to anyone who is willing to see
it, where Christ Himself, praising those who are firmly established in
virginity, says, ' As the lily among thorns, so is My love among the
daughters,' comparing the grace of chastity to the Uly, on account of
its purity and fragrance, and sweetness and joyousness " (vii, i).

EARLY CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 83
I ought to note that, strictly speaking, both the
book on the Martyrs of Palestine and The Banquet
of the Ten Virgins belong to the beginning of the
fourth century, and not end of the third, Metho
dius was martyred in 312 A.D., PamphUus and his
companions probably in 309. I think, however,
that we are justified in assuming that the position
of the ascetics and their relation to the rest of the
Church was substantially the same in the closing
years of the third century as it was at the begin
ning of the fourth.
I believe, then, that with the aid of the Pseudo-
Clementine epistles to virgins, Eusebius' Martyrs of
Palestine, and Methodius' Banquet of the Ten Virgins,
we are able to trace the development of asceticism
in Syria and Palestine during the third century.
Originally here as everywhere asceticism was an in
stinctive, unreasoned expression of that aloofness
from the world which was the natural result of the
first Christian enthusiasm. As Christians came more
and more to accept the citizenship of the world, and
to recognise the world as at least for a time their
home, asceticism where it survived became conscious
of itself, and conscious of a certain aloofness from
ordinary Christian society. This society it in no
way condemned, although it claimed and received
for itself special honour as the highest form of
Christian living. In the physical evoluticm of the
higher forms of animal life from the protozoon.

84 ' CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
certain portions of the protoplasm set themselves
apart for specialisation into the organs which possess
the senses of sight and hearing. Sensitiveness to
light, which was in some degree common to the
whole body of the protozoon, got lost in process of
development to all parts of the organism except
those vvhich had specialised into organs of sight, but
in these organs was immensely intensified. Just so
in the development of the Christian Church, the
vague asceticism which was once common to all
believers specialised for the production of a certain
kind of life, deliberately ascetic, soraetimes very
severely ascetic, tending always to become more
and more clearly differentiated from ordinary Chris
tianity. .
Egypt, which was destined in the next century to
give birth to Christian monasticism, was in the earlier
part of the third century the home of Origen. In
the description which Eusebius! gives of Origen's
life we read that it was lived in voluntary poverty,
in cold and nakedness, in virginity. He strove for the
conquest of his flesh by fasting, by the discipline of
doing without sleep, and austerity in clothing. He
endeavoured to follow literally the ascetic teaching
of Christ In fact, there is scarcely a note of later
ascetic practice vvhich is absent from the life of
Origen. There are passages in the panegyric of
Gregory Thaumaturgus which show that the asceti-
! Eus., H.E., vi. 3.

EARLY CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 85
cism of Origen's life had considerable influence in
attracting disciples to his teaching. There must have
been many men in the Egyptian Church vvho con
ceived of the Christian life as an ascetic one in the
same .way that Origen did. It is hardly possible for
a man to enter upon and work out an ascetic plan of
life as Origen did unless amid more or less sym
pathetic surroundings. Origen's teaching is, how
ever, much more important in the study of Christian
asceticism than his life. In it we find every form
of asceticism recommended and even passionately
pressed upon his disciples. On the subject of
voluntary poverty, he says : " If we follow the law
of Christ, it does not permit us to have possessions
of land or houses in cities. Why do I say houses ?
We are not permitted to have many tunics or much
money, for it says, having food and raiment, let us
be therewith content"! "When a man has leamt
to despise the vanity of the world and has realised
the perishable nature of the things that are passing
away, and has arrived at the point of renouncing the
world and all that is in it, then as a consequence he
will come to contemplate and desire those things
which are not seen, but are etemaL" ^ " I, if I re
nounce all that I have and take up my cross and
follow Christ, bring a whole . burnt offering to the
altar of God."* He speaks of those who embrace
* Horn. XV. in Lev. ix. ^ In Cant. xiv.
' Hom. ix. in Lev. ix.

86 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
the virgin life as " following the example of many
saints and of Jesus Christ" ! He compares the 'flesh
to the sacrificial victim. " Lay thy hand," he says,'
"upon thy victim, that it may be acceptable to the
Lord, and slay it before the Lord, that is, place upon
it the bridle of continence, lay on it the hands of
discipline, and take them not off from it." Speaking
of almsgiving, visiting the sick, and other deeds of
mercy, he says : " Whoso does these things anoints
the feet of the Lord. But he who is eager in
chastity, steadfast in fasts and prayers — ^which things
are not of profit to other men, but only go for the
glory of God — this is an ointment which anoints the
head of the Lord Christ, and thence flows through
His whole body, that is, the Church ; and this is the
truly precious ointment, whose odour fills the whole
house, that is, the Church of Christ. And this work
belongs not to the penitents, but to the perfect
saints."* He speaks of those who lead a contempla
tive life of ceaseless prayer and meditation as being
the " altar of incense in the temple of God," * and as
" the few near neighbours of Jesus Christ, His few
relatives and sons, who are partakers of His word
and capable of His wisdom." *
I have cited here a few passages only from a long
list collected by Bornemann, and published in his
' Ep. ad. Rom., vi. 141. 2 Horn, i. in Lev. ix.
' In Matt. iv. 4 jjgm, v, in Num. x,
' Horn. ii. in Gen. viii.

EARLY CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 87
deeply interesting and suggestive essay! qq j-j^g
origin of Christian monasticism. To this essay,
vvhich is easily accessible, I refer anyone who wishes
to supplement the few that I have quoted. These,
I hope, are sufficient to give an idea of Origen's
ascetic teaching. Most striking is its philosophic
note. Asceticism is here contemplated as opening
the eyes to eternal things by weaning them from the
vision of the temporal world. It is by virginity
that a man offers his body a mystical sacrifice to
Christ The conquest of the flesh by fasting, and
the absorption of the spirit in prayer and meditation
are the conditions of approach to the inmost intimacy
with the divine. This is nothing less than a philo
sophy of asceticism. Origen is here far in advance
of his contemporaries. He had faced and thought
out the difficult question of the relation of the ascetic
life to that of ordinary Christians. He arrived at
the solution which the Church ultimately adopted
of the distinction between counsels of perfection
and the obligatory precepts of the gospel. On this
point vve find no teaching so clear as his, and
generally no philosophy of asceticism so complete
as his, until we read the writings of St Ambrose of
Milan. Cassian's Conferences show something of
the same introspective reflectiveness; but in the
literature of his own or the two succeeding genera-
* "In investiganda Monacbatus origine quibus de causis ratio
Jiabenda sit Origenis,"

88 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
tions of ascetics there is nothing at all comparable to
what Origen wrote. The titles under vvhich he speaks
of the ascetic life are instructive and suggestive. He
calls it " The Evangelic perfection," " The Apostolic
life," " The Angelic life," " The Imitation of Christ,"
" The Divine philosophy." In none of these titles
does Origen speak the language of his contem
poraries. Among the Egyptian monks a century
later vve read of virginity as the angelic life and
poverty as the apostolic life. Palladius calls asceti
cism a philosophy. In the title "Evangelic perfec
tion," Origen anticipates the doctrine of counsels and
precepts, which vvas not yet generally apprehended in
his own time. "The Imitation of Christ" is of all
titles of the ascetic life the most familiar in our ears,
but I think that the idea of modelling life upon the
external circumstances of the Lord's life, such as His
virginity and poverty, as distinguished from trying
to shape life according to the spirit which animated
His life, was hardly yet in Origen's time a familiar
idea even to ascetics. This idea of literally imitating
the life of Christ appears in the Pseudo-Clementine
epistles to virgins. We find it afterwards in Metho
dius. In each case it results, as indeed it must, in a
glorification of asceticism.
Elsewhere in the Church men were struggling to
enforce a minimum of ascetic renunciation ^*is an
essential part of Christian life, or were inarticulately
working out a personal call to a life of uncpm-

EARLY CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 89
promising self-denial. In Alexandria and Caesarea
Origen realised that asceticism was for the few and
not for the multitude — for those who had the vocation
to become the intimates of Jesus Christ, — but that
for them it meant something very great, and made
demands not to be satisfied with anything less than
complete renunciation.
Because Origen vvas so far in advance of his con
temporaries, I cannot think that his teaching gave
the impulse to the movement which St Antony
inaugurated. The first monks did not philosophise
about asceticism. They simply lived ascetic lives.
Origen taught all that they practised, but they did
not learn it from him. There was indeed a group
of Origenistic monks in the Nitria during the second
half of the fourth century. How far they understood
and absorbed Origen's ascetic teaching, as distin
guished from his peculiar and heretical doctrines,
we are unable to determine, but certainly at the
time of its foundation the asceticism of this society
was not philosophic. I shall touch more fully on the
question of the original impulse of Egyptian desert
asceticism in the next chapter. Here it will be
sufficient to point out that Origen had disciples
who learnt their asceticism from him, and that they
were very different from St Antony, St. Macarius,
and the other hermits and coenobites. Pierius, called
by St. Jerome Origenes Junior, was an ascetic who
embraced a life of virginity and voluntary poverty.

90 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
He was an erudite philosopher, a skilful reasoner.
He indulged in obscure speculations. He was well
known as a preacher. In expounding the first
Epistle to the Corinthians he says, "Paul without
disguise preaches celibacy."! Hierakas founded at
Leontopolis a community — half monastery, half
academy. He and his disciples practised artistic
copying of manuscripts, and thereby earned their
living. He, like Pierius, speculated and philosophised.
Finally he drifted into heresy. In his opinion the
Gospel was superior to the old Jewish law^ only
because it taught virginity, while the old law per
mitted marriage. This is the kind of disciple which
Origen's ascetic philosophy found in the third
century. It is clear that Pierius and Hierakas
were men of a wholly different kind from St
Antony. It is, indeed, very probable that Origen's teaching
had a profound influence on Christian monasticism,
but its sphere must be sought not in the lives of the
hermits, but in the writings of men like St Ambrose
and St Bernard.
I have endeavoured in this chapter to indicate the
various expressions of the ascetic spirit which still
continued active and influential, in spite of the
general approximation of the Christian life to the
life of the world. I consider that a right under-
' Jer., Ep. ii. ad Pammach.
' Epiphan. Haer., 67,

EARLY CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 91
standing of the impulse which gave rise to the great
Puritan schisms of the Montanists and of Hippolytus,
and some knowledge of the specialisation of the
ascetic life and the beginnings of ascetic philosophy
during the second and third centuries, to be abso
lutely essential for a study of the origin of Christian
monasticism. Without such knowledge we are apt
to be led into the common error of regarding fourth-
century monasticism as something entirely new in
Christianity, instead of recognising it as simply a new
expression of a spirit present from the very first in
the Church. Whoever realises the power and activity
of the ascetic spirit in the second and third centuries
is likely at least to avoid the error of trying to
account for monasticism by supposing it to be a
corruption of Christianity, unawares brought in from
Neo-Platonic philosophy, the customs of pagan
religions, or the creeds of oriental dualists.

ST. ANTONY AND EARLY EGYPTIAN
MONASTICISM

Quid tu, relictis urbibus,
MortaUum consortia
Timens fugis ? Quid tu vides
Solusque tecum cogitas?
Mentis volatu libero,
Percurris aeternas domos ;
Et quae negas mortalihus.
Transfers Deo commercia.
Praesens choris coelestibus,
Sacro quietus otio.
Tutus tuendo Numini,
Totus colendo tu vacas.
Quam pura, qui te diligunt,
O Christe, libant gaudia !
Te propter antris abditos
Sinu recondis in tuo. Paris Breviary.
Magna ars est scire conversari cum Jesu.
De Imitatione Christi.
The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them.
The desert shall rejoice and blossom as :i rose.
They shall see the glory of the Lord and the excellency of our God.
In the wilderness shall waters break out and streams in the desert.
And the parched land shall become a pool and the thirsty land springs
of water.
In the habitation of dragons where each lay shall be grass with reeds
and rushes, Isaiah.
Oh for one minute hark what we are saying !
This is not pleasure that we ask of Thee !
Nay, let all life be weary with our praying.
Streaming of tears and bending of the knee.
Only we ask thro' shadows of the vaUey
Stay of Thy stafiF and guiding of Thy rod.
Only when rulers of the darkness rally.
Be Thou beside us, very near, O God !
F. W. II. Myers.

CHAPTER IV
ST. ANTONY AND EARLY EGYPTIAN
MONASTICISM!
HITHERTO we have been obUged to deal with
movements rather than men, vvith the mani
festations of a spirit rather than the actions of indi
viduals. We now arrive at a period when Christian
asceticism emerges into the light of history as a
great and clearly discernible phenomenon. It is
henceforth associated with the lives and teachings
of great leaders. The first of these is St Antony.
His parents were Egyptian^ landowners in com
fortable circumstances, perhaps actually rich, St,
Antony vvas born in a small town caUed Coma. As
a boy he showed a disinclination* to share the studies
and the play of his schoolfellows, and grew up in
consequence almost entirely without learning. When
he was eighteen years old* — in the year 258 — his
parents died, leaving him in possession of the family
property. He was profoundly dissatisfied with his
' Almost all the passages referred to in this chapter are to be found
in Rosweyd's Vitiz Patrum, accessible easily in Migne's Patrologia
Latina, vols. Ixxiii. and lxxiv.
2 Vita Antotiii, \., and Soz,, H.E., i. 13. ' Vit. Ant., i. ¦" Ibid., ii.
95

96 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
position. His mind vvas filled vvith thoughts about
the life of the apostles,! vvho had left all to follow
Jesus, and about those early disciples at Jerusalem
who had embraced a life of poverty, selling aU their
possessions and laying the price of them at the
apostles' feet. It happened one day^ that he heard
read in church that portion of the gospel in which
the rich young man was bidden to sell all that he had
and follow Jesus. The words,* " Go and sell all that
thou hast " appealed to him as a direct personal call.
He left the church and obeyed. All his land he gave
to the villagers. All his other property he sold, and
distributed the price among the poor,* reserving only
a small sum for the use of his sister.* Shortly after
wards he vvas again in church, and heard this time
the words, "Be not anxious for the morrow." He
then parted with even the small remnant of his
property vvhich he had kept for his sister. From
this time on his life was entirely devoted to the
pursuit of holiness. At first he went ' to and fro
among the older ascetics, who, without withdrawing
from human society, were making special efforts to
imitate the life of Christ, From each of these he
learnt some lesson.^ In one he saw the beauty of
graciousness; in another he admired endurance
in fasting; in others meekness and freedom from
anger. He strove to imitate each in what seemed
1 Vit. Ant., ii. 2 Ibid., ii. s St. Matt, xix, 21,
* Vit., iii. s Cass., Conf., iii. 4. 0 Vit., iv.

EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM 97
a great achievement So genuine and unaffected
was his piety that men loved hira for it, and gave
him the name of " God beloved."! g^^. avhile he won
the admiration of good men, he excited the envy of
the devil. The saint was sorely tempted to go back
from the path on which he had entered. He remem
bered the wealth he had given up, and all the pleasure
and power it might have brought him. He felt, as
all men do at some time, the force of violent physical
passions.^ " But he, his mind filled with Christ,
quenched the coal of the devil's deceit" In order to
fight his battle against the flesh to the point of a
decisive victory he, took up his dwelling in one of
the tombs which lay at a short distance from the
village. Here his conflicts with the powers of evil
became more intense. Devils threatened him.
They assumed the shapes of beasts to terrify him.*
On one occasion his friends found him insensible,*
^ Vit., V. ' ^ Ibid., viii.
' " But changes of form for evil are easy for the devil, so in the
night they made such a din that the whole of that place seemed to be
shaken by an earthquake, and the demons, as if breaking the four
walls of the dwelling, seemed to enter through them, coming in the
likeness of beasts and creeping things. And the place was on a
sudden filled with the forms of lions, bears, leopards, bulls, serpents,
asps, scorpions, and wolves, and each of them was moving according
to his nature. The lion was roaring, wishing to attack, the bull
seemed to toss with its horns, the serpent writhing, but unable to
approach, and the wolf as it rushed on was restrained ; altogether
the noises of the apparitions, with their angry ragings, were dreadful."
— Vit. Ant., ix.
¦* "Antony departed to the tombs, and having bid one of his acquaint
ances to bring him bread at intervals, he entered one of the tombs, and

98 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
and carried him back to the village. The saint vvas
undaunted and unshaken. He determined! to pene
trate into the wilderness, the very stronghold of
Satan. At the age of thirty-five^ — 285 A.D.— he
made his way to a mountain in the desert, and took
up his abode in a ruined fort. Here he shut himself
in,* and for twenty years remained without seeing
the face of man. During this period his conflicts
with the devil were terrible and unceasing. It is
impossible for us to realise the life he lived.
Trembling pilgrims lingering* around his fortress
used to hear the noise of voices clamouring and
dinning, the threats and imprecations of the fiends,
but above these there ever rose the war song of the
saint, " Let God arise, and let His enemies be scat
tered. Let them also which hate Him flee before
the other having shut the door on him, he remained within alone. And
when the enemy could not endure it, but was even fearful that in a
short time Antony would fill the desert with the discipline, coming one
night with a multitude of demons, he so cut him with stripes that he
lay on the ground speechless from the excessive pain. For he affirmed
that the torture had been so excessive that no blows inflicted by man
could have caused him such torment. But by the providence of God
— for the Lord never overlooks them that hope in Him— the next day
his acquaintance came bringing him the loaves. And having opened
the door and finding him lying on the ground as though dead, he lifted
him up and carried him to the church in the village." — Vit. Ant., viii.
> Vit., xi. = Ibid., X. = Ibid., xiv.
* "But those of his acquaintance who came, since he did not permit
them to enter, often used to spend days and nights outside, and heard
as it were crowds within clamouring, dinning, and sending forth
piteous voices and crying, 'Go from what is ours. What dost thou
even in the desert? Thou canst not abide our attack,'" — Vit. Ant.,

EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM 99
Him." At the end of twenty years! j-^e fame of
his conflict had drawn round him so many admirers
that his friends set to work to break down the door
of his fortress. The saint came out to them. They
looked to behold a form emaciated with fasting or
wrecked by disease. We might have expected a
gibbering maniac, or the dazed face of an apathetic
melancholiac. Instead there emerged a man normal
in body, simply sane in mind. His admirers
gathered round him, and he spoke much to them
of the ascetic life. His teaching is given in the
form of a long sermon in his biography.^ I suppose
that it was not actually delivered as we read it, but
that St. Athanasius worked up the general recollec
tion of the teaching into a single discourse. I do
not think, however, that there is any reason to doubt
that the sermon, as vve have it. Is the real teaching
of St. Antony. If we compare* it with his sayings,
recorded elsewhere, we shall not suppose that it is
merely an ideal sermon put into the sainf s mouth by
his biographer. It is occupied chiefly vvith a descrip
tion of the various conflicts which ascetics rausfe.
expect with demons. A clear, strong faith and
a confidence in ultimate victory through Christ
underlies the whole of what he says.
After living for six or seven years among the
ll Vit., xiv. ^ Ibid., xvi.-xlii.
' For instance, cf. Vit., chap, xxv., with the saint's speech reported
by the Abbot Paul in Cass., Collat., ii. 2.

loo CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
disciples who had gathered round him,! j^g retired
yet further into the wilderness. He feared lest the
admiration of so many men might lead him into the
sin of pride, and he found that his own spiritual
meditation was interfered with by the demands
which others made upon his time. Directed by a
heavenly voice,^ he found a new hermitage at the
foot of a mountain from which there flowed a stream
of water. Flere he cultivated a small plot of ground,*
and lived upon the fruits of it. He rarely left this
"inner mountain," as it came to be called, but he
gladly received the visitors who came to consult him
on spiritual matters. He worked many miracles of
healing, and had wonderful visions and revelations,
but his spiritual conflicts never ceased.* This warrior
of Christ found no peace until God gave him ever
lasting peace. He died at the age of 105 years.
Such vvas the life of this father of Christian
monasticism. Over the whole history of the move
ment in Egypt his figure towers like a landmark
which meets the traveller's eye from every corner of
1 Vit., xlviii. 2 ji,i^^ xijx. 3 Ibid., 1,
* For instance, he was visited by his own sister "grown old in
virginity" and other virgins i^Vit. Ant., liv,). Many monks came to
him for advice (Iv,), Many sufferers came to him for his prayers, help,
and healing (lvi.). Fronto, an officer of the Court, was cured from a
terrible disease through St. Antony's prayers (Ivii.). A maiden from
Busiris Tripolitana was brought by her parents to St. Antony and
healed ofa " terrible and very hideous disorder " (Iviii,). Polycratia of
Laodicea, a Christian maiden who "suffered terribly" and "was
altogether weakly of body," was healed through St, Antony's prayers
(lvi, ), and others.

EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM loi
the road. All who knew him admired him. Later
generations looked back to him as the greatest
example of the hermit life.^ " If all the monks now
living," said the abbot of a great monastery,^ himself
a hero of asceticism, " were gathered together, they
would not among them make, up one Antony."
Many monks surpassed hira in the austerity of their
lives. Some exhibited a statesman-like power of legis
lation and organisation to which St. Antony could
make no claim. His greatness lay in what he vvas,
what he succeeded in becoming, rather than in what
he did. To a generation like our own, which believes
that influence is the result of talent working upon a
crowd, St. Antony's life is an enigma. He possessed
an influence which affected the lives of thousands in
his own generation and many thousands afterwards,
yet he had neither talent nor learning, and he sought
not crowds but solitude. Where lay the secret of his
power ? First of all we recognise his enthusiasm as
an element of his greatness. He was one vvho
literally "counted all things as loss for the excellency
¦ ' St. Antony is referred to by : — (l) Serapion in Life of Macarius of
Egypt (Coptic). (2) Didymus in Hist. Laus., iv. (3) Didymus in
Jerome, Ep. 68. (4) Isidore in Hist. Laus., iii. (5) Stephen the
Libyan in Hist. Laus., xxx. (6) Chronius of Nitria in Hist. Laus.,
xxv. and xxvi. (7) Moses of Scete in Cass., Co7if., i. and ii. (8)
Ammon in Ep. ad. Theophilmyi, xx. I have taken this list from
Dom Cuthbert Butler's Prolegomena to the Lausiac History, pp. 220
and ff. It might be added to.
2 Schnoudi. See his life, translated from Coptic and Arabic by
Amelineau, in Monuments pour servir a I'histoire de I' Egypt chretienne
aux IV" et V^ slides, tom. i., fascic. I.

I02 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
of the knowledge of Christ Jesus."! Next we see
that he possessed qualities rare in combination vvith
a great enthusiasm. He was courteous and humble.
He had a sense of proportion and moderation.^ He
had a wide sympathy vvith the sinful and the weak.*
" His manners," vve read, "were not rough but grace
ful and polite, and his speech vvas seasoned with
divine salt, so that no one vvas envious, but rather
all rejoiced over him that visited him." He loved
rather to ask questions than to answer them,* and
was quick to own that he had profited by another's
teaching. In his long discourse on the ascetic life,°
he expressly warns his disciples that excessive fasting
may be a snare of the evil one. " There are some,"
he said,® " who wear down their bodies in fasting, yet
are far from God because they lack discretion." We
read^ that once a certain brother in the monastery of
Elias fell into sin and was expelled. He went to the
mountain where St Antony dwelt After he had
remained some time there, St. Antony sent him back
to the congregation from which he had come out.
But the brethren seeing him, again expelled him, and
again he went to St Antony, saying, "My father,
they will not receive me." The saint sent him back
with this message : " A ship was wrecked in the sea
and the cargo vvhich it carried was lost With great
' PhU, in. 8. •¦= Cass., Co7if., ii. 2, » Vit., Ixxiii,
" Vit., Ixviii. » Vit., xxv. ; Cass., Conf., ii. 2.
' Vit. Pair., >'. 10, I. ' Ibid., v, 9, i.

EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM 103
labour the empty hull was brought to land. Do you
wish to sink the ship which has come to the shore ? "
It is not hard to see that a man capable of the
enthusiasm which carried St. Antony through the
fierceness of his twenty years' solitary conflict with
demons, and who yet was gentle and humane, who
valued discretion as the soul of all virtue, must have
been very great because he vvas very good. I con
ceive him as a man whom only the very bad can have
hated, whom only the unreal can have feared, from
whose society no one, however weak, vvho wanted to
be good need ever have shrunk.
St Antony, however, does not stand alone as an
example of the hermit life. There were others vvho
embraced this way of Uving quite independently of
St. Antony's teaching, like Ammon in the Nitrian
desert, and Palaemon in Upper Egypt, the spiritual
father of St. Pachomius. There were also St
Antony's own great disciples, St Macarius the
Egyptian, St Hilarion, and Moses, vvho, at least
during the earlier part of their lives, were solitaries.
There must have been many others belonging to the
first generation of Egyptian ascetics of whose lives
vve have no records at all. We know most about
St Antony, and it must be from his life chiefly that
vve gather our impressions of the spirit which moved
these men to renounce the world. It is most
necessary to observe that neither in St Antony's
own life nor anywhere else in the records of the

104 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
movement do we get a hint of any inspiration
except the love of God and the desire of salvation,
Ammon ! vvas led to leave his wife and the society
of men by the reading of certain passages in the
New Testament St. Hilarion ^ sought out St,
Antony because he fervently desired to lead a
perfect life. Theodore,* the disciple of St. Pachomius,
owed his conversion to reading the words, "What
shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and
lose his own soul?"* Of St, Abraham^ it is also
related that the study of Ploly Scripture gave the
impulse to his ascetic life. Mar Awgin,® the founder
of Persian monasticism, was warned by God in a
dream to seek for salvation In the monastery of St
Pachomius. These men were not philosophers,
dreaming over the speculations of the Neo-Platonists.
On the contrary, most of them were comparatively
ignorant men, members of the middle or lower
classes in Egypt St Antony himself was perhaps
wealthy, but almost entirely uneducated. Mar Awgin
was a pearl-fisher. Macarius the Alexandrian was
a seller of vegetables. A third Macarius was a
shepherd. Cassian ^ notes it is a singular thing that
the Abbot Joseph could speak Greek and knew
something of Greek philosophy. These examples
will be sufficient to show that these early monks
1 Farad. Heracl., ii, = VU . St. Hilarion, 3,
= Vit. St. Pach., xxix. " St. Mark viii. 36. ¦> Vit. St. Abr., i,
* Budge, Book of the Governors, Introduction.
" Conf., xvi. I.

EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM 105
drew no inspiration from philosophic speculation.
Neither do I find any suggestion that these men
fled in wearied disgust from the burden of life. The
Abbot Piamun! expressly rebuts such a suggestion.
" The men," he says, " vvho frequented the deserts
did so not from faint-heartedness and evil impa
tience." The Abbot Arsenius" is a possible ex
ception to this, but even of him it is only said that
he sought a life " quiet from the noise of this world."
It seems to me wholly impossible to suppose,
as Weingarten* does, that Christian monasticism
originated in, a desire to imitate the lives of the
monks of Serapis. Unless one is prepared to sweep
away as unreliable the whole cycle of early Egyptian
monastic literature, this suggestion cannot be seriously
considered. The Abbot Paphnutius * has carefully analysed the
! Cass., Conf., xviii. 6. ^ Vit. Fair., iii. 37.
' Ursprungdes Monchtu7/isa.nAaTt."MonchtMm" in P.P. E. (2nded.)
* The Abbot Paphnutius describes three kinds of callings :— The
first, from God — "A caUing is from God whenever some inspiration
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 commandments with life-giving contrition." The second,
through man — "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
example of the saint to give ourselves up to this aim and calling."
The third, 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 vvith the loss
ofour 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." — Cass., Conf., iii. 4.

io6 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
various vocations of monks. In no case does he
conceive of the impulse being other than a divine
leading. I am convinced, by a careful study of the
literature, that he is in the main right, and that all
modern attempts to account for the movement other
wise must be given up. " Theonas ! was fired with
an uncontrollable desire for the perfection of the
gospel." " An old ascetic was once asked,^ ' What
is this vvhich we read — Strait and narrow is the
way ? ' He answered, ' The strait and narrow way
is this — that vve do violence to our thoughts, and
for the sake of God cut off our desires. This is
what is written of the apostles, " So we have left
all and followed Hira." ' " " How are vve to ascend
unto the perfection that is in Christ Jesus ? " * These
are the sort of sayings which vve meet everywhere in
this literature. These are the kind of questions which
the hermits and coenobites were continually asking
each other. They do not breathe the air of Neo-
Platonic philosophy. They are not the expressions
of world-weariness and disgust of life. They are
assuredly not pagan.
Next we must notice carefully the attitude of these
men towards the world and towards the Church.
Language is occasionally used which seems, to justify
the accusation of a Manichaean contempt for the
ordinary life of married Christians. I am, however,
1 Cass,, Conf., x.\i. 8. ^ Vit. Pair., v. 8l.
^ Ibid., v, I, 8l;

EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM 107
convinced that the movement was not really pene
trated by any such spirit. Macarius! ^j^g Alexandrian
was once told by the voice of God that he had not
yet attained to the measure of the perfection of two
women who lived with their husbands in a neigh
bouring city. After visiting them and seeing the
goodness of their lives, he says, " In truth there is
neither virgin nor married, neither monk nor man
of the world, but God gives to all the spirit of life."
These are not the words of a man whose spirit was
Manichaean. The Abbot Serenus told Cassian- the
story of a certain Paul, whose purity of life was so
morbidly strict 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" Once when he was
on a journey to visit another abbot he met a woman
on the road. " He was so disgusted at meeting her
that he dashed back again to his own monastery
with greater speed than a man would flee from a
lion or a dragon." Here is the true spirit of con
tempt for God's creation with which the Egyptian
monks are so frequently charged. But mark the
beautiful and pathetic ending of the story. Paul
"was forthwith overtaken by such a punishment
that his whole body was struck with paralysis."
He was reduced to such a condition that the care
of men could no longer minister sufficiently tenderly
to his infirmities. His friends carried him to a
' Vit. Fair., iii. 97. ^ Cass., Conf., vii. 26.

io>' CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
convent of women, and there for four years holy
virgins waited on him, supplying until his death
the needs he could no longer express even by signs.
The story shows us clearly enough that the monks
who told it were well aware that their spirit vvas not
that vvhich had animated this Paul in the days of his
health. A certain brother! once boasted in an
assembly of his severe fasting, saying that he never
ate anything cooked. Theodore arose and rebuked
him. " It were far better," he said, " for you to eat
flesh in your cell than to make such a boast among
the brethren." It is foolishness to continue to charge
these monks with being Manichaeans in their view
of the world, or even with elevating abstinence into
an end in itself
If they fled from the world they did so not because
the world was in itself hopelessly and incurably bad,
and material things not to be touched without defile
ment They aimed at a return to that apostolic
Christianity vvhich was itself a separation from the
world. Again and again they appeal to the standard
of the apostolic life. St Antony^ did so. Piamun
says that monks are those who maintain the favour
of the apostles. They claim* not to be inventing a
new kind of Christianity, but to be returning to the
oldest. Once, to be a Christian involved a separation
from the world. " But the early faith* cooled down,
I Vit. Patr., iii. 54. 2 Vit., i.
= Cass., Co7if., xviii. £ ; cf. I/ist., vii. 17. * Ibid., xviu. 5.

EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM log
and even those who were the leaders of the Church
relaxed something of their strictness. Men thought
that they vvould suffer no loss if they kept their pos
sessions." Now in the fourth century Christians were
of the world. The world's business was done by
Christians. The world's pleasures were enjoyed by
them. The world's honours were won by them. In
the third decade of the century Christian bishops
thronged the emperor's court and suggested the em
peror's policy. The Christian life had become a
world life, purified, indeed, and elevated, but going
along the ways the world had always gone, buying
and selling, marrying and giving in marriage. The
life of the Egyptian ascetics was an attempt to return
to the Christianity of the New Testament Only the
altered condition of the world, which in name had
become Christian, necessitated their making a distinct
and visible breach with it in order to attain to the
apostolic standard. I am the more convinced that
the Egyptian asceticism vvas primitive and apostolic
in its view of the world and of religion by the manner
in which the early hermits regarded the powers of
evil. I have already mentioned the severity of St.
Antony's conflicts against demons. He speaks of the
air around us being full of them,! of their ceaseless
efforts to frustrate the labour of the saints.^ They
have bodies, only more subtle than those which men
have.* They are the same vvho once inspired the
1 Vit., xxi. "^ Ibid., .xxii. ' Ibid., xxxi.

no CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
oracles of the Greek gods.! This view of the reality
and powers of demons runs through the literature of
the earlier part of the movement. It is the very
same as that which prevailed, as vve have seen, in
the apostolic Church, but it differs from the general
/ view of the Church in the fourth century. St
Athanasius conceives of the powers of demons
differently from St. Antony. He speaks^ of the
air having been cleared of demons by the death
of Christ uplifted into the air upon the cross. Our
" Saviour Christ," he says,* " died not on the earth,
but in the air, destroying the devil vvho was in the air,
and consecrating our road up to heaven, and making
it free." His view is evidently almost the same as
Milton's,* except that the latter makes the defeat of
the demons the immediate result of the incarnation
and not, as St. Athanasius, of the crucifixion. St
Antony holds rather to the primitive belief in the
world-wide prevalence of demonic power, although he
clings vvith a kind of defiant faith to the conviction
\* that it cannot prevail against the power of God.
" Greater is He that is in you than he that is in
the world."' Among the coenobites ofthe generation
succeeding St. Antony the belief in demons became
gradually modified. Then Abbot Serenus,® who talked
vvith Cassian at the end of the fourth century, says :
' Vit., xxxiii. " Dehicarn., xxv.
=• Ep. xxii.; cf. Ep. Ix. 7. ¦» Ode to the Nativity.
' I St. John iv. 4. ^ Conf., vi. 23.

EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM in
" We have discovered by our own experience, and by
the testimony of the elders, that devils have not now
the same power that they had in the earlier days of
the anchorites, when as yet there were but few
monks dwelling in the desert." He attributes the
change to the fact that the steadfast faith of the
first anchorites beat back the demons, and broke
their power. He also quaintly suggests! that the
demons may not consider the later generation of
monks worthy of such fierce attacks. The very dis
cussion of such a problem shows that the battling
against demons had ceased to be a very pressing
experience among the monks towards the end of the
fourth century, and that they had approximated to
the calmer and more rational beliefs on this subject
which prevailed in the Church.
It is next very necessary to notice that this retire
ment from the world involved, at first, a retirement
also from the Church. The earliest monks were
anchorites, that is to say, solitaries, who lived alone
at a distance from their feUow-men. From the very
nature of the case we can know but little about the
lives vvhich this earUest generation led in their soli
tude. Tradition preserves for us the name of Paul,^
' " Our carelessness makes them relax something of their first
onslaught, as they scorn to attack us with the same energy with
which they raged against those former most admirable soldiers of
Christ."— Cass., Conf., vii. 23.
- Note St. Jerome's expression with regard to this biography in
chap. i. of the Vit. St. Uii., "Paulus meus."

112 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
but his biography, as Jerome wrote it, can be little
else than a romance. One beautiful story survives
of Palsemon,! who refused the luxury of a few drops
of oil on his food vvith tears, saying, " My Lord is
crucified, and shall I eat oil?" We know most about
those who, like St. Antony, St. Ammon, St. Hilarion,
and others, emerged in later life from absolute soli
tude, or suffered disciples to cluster round their cells.
The Abbot John,^ who had been himself an anchorite,
gives a brief suggestion of the emotions vvhich such
a life excited. He speaks of "the vastness of the
desert silences," of " the seclusion of larger retreats,"
of "spiritual ecstasy," of "the insatiable desire" which
possessed him for " the freedom of the vast wilder
ness," of " bliss only to be compared to the bliss of
angels." We strive, but almost in vain, to project
the imagination into such a region. The infinite
monotony of sunrise, sun - shining, and sunset, the
interminable stretch of vision across grey rock and
sand, appall us. There were times when the eyes
refused any longer to see, and the ears forgot the
emotion of hearing amid the unbroken stillness,
"The body ceased to press its claims upon the soul.
The little row of baskets, full or empty, which stood
before the cell, alone served to awaken the recollec
tion that food had been tal>en or neglected. A
growing pile of woven mats marked the passage of
the weeks. The ripening of the hermit's patch of
> Vit. St. Packom. » Cass,, Conf, xix.

EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM 113
corn vvas all that reminded him that another year
was drawing to its close. " The demon that walketh
at noonday,"! ^jje dreaded accidie, drove the hermit
forth to gather more leaves for his plaiting, or on to
his knees to repeat aloud psalm after psalm, lest his
soul perish in listless apathy. , At rare intervals the
sight of a figure struggling towards the cell roused
the hermit again to a sense of the world outside
himself and his God. Eagerly he awaits the
visitor. It may prove to be some demon clad for
a while in human shape, bent upon his soul's de
struction. Or perhaps it is some man of God, who
has been led to the remote cell in the hope of re
ceiving a word of life. Sometimes the brief sleep
of the hermit vvas broken by a beating at his door.
He rouses himself and listens trembling. There
throng on his recollection tales of how the devil
himself came thus at night in the shape of some
splendid woman, luring God's servant to the point
of sin, and then escaped his grasp amid the mocking
laughter of evil angels. He takes heart of grace and
opens the door, to find, perhaps, some prostrate
suppliant in search of miraculous cure, or some
enthusiastic aspirant for the glories of the solitary
life. More rarely still the hermit himself went upon
a journey. He walked through wonderland. Strange
beasts met him, threatened, and fled from him. Gold
strewed his path sometimes — gold that vvould buy
' See Ps. xc, 6, Septuagint Version.

114 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
him delirious delights in Alexandria. He lay down
to sleep in a half-ruined temple, and in the night
he could hear the demons of the old carved images
holding their revels around him. Sometimes savage
animals made friends with him. They came to his
cell and shared his food. They bowed their heads
for his benediction, and learnt from him the lessons
of gentleness which he taught them.!
It is altogether a strange life. It is almost in vain
that the historical imagination tries to realise it
' The description I have given of the life of a hermit is the result of
combining various incidents coUected out of Rosweyd's Vitce Patrum.
I should like my picture to be compared with one drawn much more
artistically by Mr. Lecky, in his History of European Morals. "Some
tiraes, in the very extasy of his devotion, the memory of old scenes
would crowd upon his [the hermit's] mind. The shady groves and
soft, voluptuous gardens of his native city would arise, and kneeling
alone upon the burning sand, he seemed to see around him the fair
groups of dancing-girls, on whose warm, undulating limbs and wanton
smiles his youthful eyes had too fondly dwelt. Sometimes his tempta
tion sprang from remembered sounds. As his lips were murmuring
the psalter his imagination, fired perhaps by the music of some martial
psalm, depicted the crowded amphitheatre. The throng and passion
and mingled cries of eager thousands were present to his mind, and
the fierce joy of the gladiators passed through the tumult of his dream.
Most terrible of all were the struggles of young and ardent men, through
whose veins the hot blood of passion continually flowed, physically
incapable of a life of celibacy, and with all that proneness to hallu
cination which a southern sun engenders, who were borne on the wave
of enthusiasm to the desert Ufe, In the arms of Syrian or African
brides, whose soft eyes answered love with love, they might have sunk
to rest ; but in the lonely %vilderness no peace could ever visit theit
souls." This description is so much more brilliant than mine that I fear it
raay prove more convincing to the reader. Nevertheless, my descrip
tion is the truer of the two. Mr. I.ecky has picked his facts, as well
as combining them, and his selection is not a fair one.

EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM 115
One thing, however, seems clear. This complete
isolation from the world must have involved also
isolation from all that we usually speak of as means
of grace. These men joined no gathering of the
faithful for common worship, were strengthened by
no bishop's weekly exhortation, received no absolu
tion in their penitence, above all could not participate
in the sacrament of the altar. Their lives were lived
literally alone with God.
Afterwards there came a change, and a close
approach vvas made to the Church's ordinary way of
life; but at first the isolation from the Church vvas
well-nigh as complete as from the world.
We must not expect to find very much direct
evidence of this in the books of historians who wrote
at the very end of the century, when the way of life
of the first anchorites survived only as a recollec
tion. Palladius speaks with horror of one Ptolomaeus,!
who made shipwreck of his mind and soul by attempt
ing to live an absolutely isolated life. He recognises
that in such a life a man is "separated from the
converse of good men, vvhich might be profitable,
and from the frequent communion of the mysteries
of Christ" I find another instance of the survival
of a degraded form of the ancient spirit in Valens,"
who said to the brethren, " I do not need the com
munion, for I have seen Christ Himself to-day." A
strange story* is told of a certain anchorite to whom
1 Heracl Parad , xv. ^ Ibid., xiii. ' Vit. Pair., v. 24.

ii6 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
the devil appeared in the form of an old and vener
able abbot " Behold," said the demon, " I have
been thy neighbour for many years, dwelling in a
cell from vvhich I never went out until to-day, when
I learnt that you were dwelling near me. This I
say, brother, that vve shall profit nothing sitting in
our cells, because vve receive not the body and blood
of Christ. Let us go to a church where there is a
priest, and there receive the sacrament." The hermit
yielded to his persuasions and went. His going was
the first step in a downward course, which ended in
fornication. It is impossible to claim for this story
that it is a narration of actual fact It must, how
ever, reflect the spirit of a very early stage of the
movement, since at no time after the first half of
the fourth century vvould it have been possible to
invent a story in which the devil tempts a monk to
receive the sacrament
There is another story vvhich I extract from the
life of Onuphrius, given by Rosweyd. An aged
anchorite is asked by a young monk who has dis
covered his retreat how in his solitude he has
managed to receive the sacrament of the body and
blood of the Lord. The anchorite replies that an
angel brings it to him every Saturday and Sunday.
Amelineau has pronounced this whole life to be
nothing but a conte. It may be so, but this ques
tion and answer seem to me eminently natural. The
question must have been asked of the younger

EARLY EGYPTIAN MOIST ASTICISM X17
generation of monks accustomed to their desert
churches when they came into chance contact with
one of the older anchorites. An answer like that
of Onuphrius must have sometimes been given,
the anchorite claiming a spiritual communion, the
younger man assuming a special miracle. Similar
to this is the miracle related by Macarius ! to Palla
dius about Mark. "To Mark, the ascetic," he says,
" I have never given the oblation, but an angel
gave it to him off" the altar. I beheld only the
fingers of the hand which gave it."
I think that what has been already said is sufficient
to illustrate the original attitude of aloofness from
the Church which characterised the first stage of
the raoveraent It is not to be supposed that there
was any hostility to the Church or any conterapt
for the Church's means of grace. Simply we must
conceive that St. Antony and the others followed
a divine call, expecting to find in the way on vvhich
God led them all that the Church's ordinances gave
to others. There is in the lives of the first anchorites
seemingly no thought at all about church or priest or
sacrament. Gradually, however, in Lower Egypt a change
came upon the form and the spirit of the ascetic
movement After St Antony emerged frora his
first retirement in the ruined fort, disciples began to
gather round him. Groups of cells were built round
1 Hist. Laus., xx.

ii8 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
the hermitage of St Ammon in the Nitrian, and
round that of St. Macarius in the Scetic desert The
same thing took place in the Nile Delta around
Moses, though perhaps at a rather later date. Else
where little companies of hermits drew together for
the sake of mutual exhortation and comfort These
vUlages of cells carae to be called "lauras."! 'j^he
monks in them lived according to no definite rule.
Individuals were free to come and go, and although
they submitted to one or another of the brethren for
the sake of practising obedience and humility, there
vvas no regularly constituted governor of the com
munities. Sometiraes we catch a glimpse of the
germ of a rule in process of formation. Thus it is
related of the Abbot Nub and his six companions:
"Four hours during the night they used to sleep.
Four hours they sang psalms, and four they worked.
In the day up to the sixth hour they used to work,
then until the ninth hour they read, and after that
prepared their food, collecting certain herbs of the
ground."^ Sometimes the dwellers in these lauras*
had their meals in common. More frequently each
man ate alone in his own cell. It was usual for the
^ "The origin of the word 'laura' is uncertain. By one account it
is Ionic ; by another it is a contraction of the Greek word for laby
rinth, and expressive of the narrow paths or wynds winding in and
out among the cells. More probably it is another form of ' labra,' the
popular term in Alexandria for an alley or narrow court("-.^J. Gregory
Smith Christian Monasticism, p. 3§,
2 Vit. Pat., iii, 159.
^ Cass., Co7if., V. 24,

EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM 119
monks to visit each other in their cells and to con
verse together on spiritual things. Sometimes they
journeyed to distant lauras for the sake of enjoying
the conversation of some renowned father. Very
beautiful are some of the stories told of these visits.
Silvanus and a disciple of his once came to a certain
monastery.! -pi^g brethren there besought thera to
eat something before departing. After they had
gone away the disciple found a pool of water on
their road. He began to drink of it, but Silvanus
said to him, " This is a fast day." " But," said the
disciple, "have we not already eaten, ray father?"
To whom Silvanus replied, " That eating vvas for the
sake of love, my son. Now let us keep our fast"
There is another story of a visit paid by one elder
to another.^ The host bid his disciples prepare a
meal of vegetables and bread. The disciples did so.
But the two old men remained until the next day
conversing of spiritual things. Then said the host
again to his disciple, " Prepare a meal, my son." He
replied, "Since yesterday I have done so." Then
rising they took their food.
It came to be the custom for the monks of these
lauras to congregate at some central cell on Satur
days and Sundays. Even outlying hermits used to
come in on these occasions to share the common
worship. Necessarily this involved a certain ap
proximation to the Church's way of life. We read
» Vi(. Pat., iii. 40, ^ Ibid., 56.

120 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
that St Macarius, the Egyptian,! consulted St
Antony about the disadvantage under which the
monks laboured, since the sacrifice was not offered
among them nor had they opportunity of partaking
of the Eucharist. St. Antony's answer is not recorded
for us, but after this interview St. Macarius^ was
himself ordained a priest. This was in the year 340.
The date marks a stage in the development of Lower
Egyptian asceticism, for the example of St. Macarius
the Egyptian was followed by his namesake, St
Macarius* of Alexandria, and by others. From
this time on we read of regular churches in the
deserts for the monks. Thus Palladius* describes
one large church in the Nitrian desert to vvhich the
monks (whose number he estimates at five thousand)
used to congregate on Saturdays and Sundays. There
were eight priests araong these monks. There was
a church also in the Scetic desert, in which apparently
the Communion was administered to the monks every
day. All this is clearly a development from the older
life of the anchorites. Isolation is no longer com
mon. The normal life was to a certain extent
* "Aliquando Abbatem Antoniurt convenit Abbas Macarius habitoque
ad eum sermone, Scetim reversus est. Obviam ei processenrat patres.
Et in coUoquio ait illis senex ; Abboti Antonio dixi ; quod in loco
nostro careamus oblatione. Coeperunt patres disserere aliis de rebus
nec requisierunt responsum discere a sene, nec senex eis prolocutus est."
— St Macarii, Opuscula et Apophthegmata, Io. G, Pritius coUegit.
2 Soz., HE., iii. 14. 3 Lbid,
1 fl^rgfil, Farcid., \\,

EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM 121
ccenobitic,! and an approach had been made towards
the Church. It is important to remember that this
development took place during the lifetime and vvith
the approval of St. Antony.
In Upper Egypt monasticism underwent an entirely
different development There also the solitary life
was the earliest type. No commanding figure, how
ever, like that of St. Antony stands forth. We know
little or nothing of the anchorites of Upper Egypt.
Palaemon vve hear of, but only accidentally as the
master of St. Pachomius. On the other hand,
Upper Egypt produced in the monasteries of St.
Pachomius an organisation far more perfect than the
lauras of the Nitria or Scete. The biography of
St. Pachomius represents him as receiving his
monastic rule from an angel.^ It is not wonderful
that such a legend should have arisen, for the rule
' The word coenobitic is here inaccurately used. Strictly speaking,
the life in lauras was idiorythmic and not ccenobitic. The two types
of life are seen to-day side by side in Mount Athos. In a coenobitic
monastery the monks live under a rule and are governed by an abbot.
In idiorythmic communities there is no rule and no abbot. The monks,
so far as they can be said to be governed at all, are governed by the
public opinion of the community. A very interesting account of the
two ways of life will be found in Mr, Athelstan Riley's Mount Athos,
an account of his visit to these monasteries. His description of the
idiorythmic communities might, in my opinion, be transferred verbatim
to the Egyptian lauras of the latter part of the fourth century. It is
not, however, to be supposed that the communities on Mount Athos are
a survival of the primitive lauras. They must be regarded rather as
an example of the way in which similar ideas tend at different times to
produce similar ways of life without either conscious imitation or direct
historical connection.
3 The statement is repeated by Soz,, H.:^,,, iii. 14,

122 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
seems to have been, in its main features at least, the
work of an individual genius. I have no doubt that
St. Pachomius added details from time to time as
experience suggested improveraents. No doubt, also,
the rule as we know it at present contains additions
and modifications added by disciples.! The main
conception, however, was absolutely original. All
subsequent monastic rules — the Basilian Regulae,
Cassian's Institutes, the Rule of St. Benedict —
depend more or less on the accumulated experiences
of those who had previously lived lives in com
munity. When St. Pachomius founded his first
monastery at Tabennisi — an island in the Upper
Nile — there was no previous experience to look back
to. His vvas the first attempt to regulate an ascetic
community. It is therefore startling to find how
complete the organisation actually was. The monks^
were divided into different classes according to the
different kind of work they did. A minimum of
ascetic practice was enjoined. Individual efforts
after severer self- denial were encouraged. The
monks met for common worship and for the recep
tion of the Eucharist Careful arrangements were
made for the provision of priests either out of the
neighbouring villages or from among the monks
themselves for the performance of the divine service.
¦* Heracl. Parad., xix. Soz,, as above,
^ See Zockler's careful analysis of the rule in Askese u. Mdnchtum,
p, 200 and fif.

EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM 123
Thus from the very first the Pachomian monasteries
stood in close connection with the Church. The
monks of Tabennisi are represented as congregating
joyfully to welcome a visit from St Athanasius. At
the same time, a certain distrust existed in their
minds of the ministrations of priests who had not to
some extent at least accepted the ascetic ideal. Per
haps the way in which these monks regarded the
clergy may best be illustrated by a story. Schnoudi!
was brought up from boyhood in the monastery
ruled over by his uncle, Bgoul. He ultimately be
carae its abbot. Many very wonderful stories are
related about him by his disciple and biographer
Visa. We read that one day he was sitting in his
cell engaged in conversation with the Lord Jesus
Christ Such visits frora the Saviour were common
incidents in this man's life. While he was thus en
gaged, a bishop came to the door of the monastery
and requested to see the abbot, in order to receive
his blessing. Schnoudi sent a message to him to say
that he could not come to him, being engaged. The
bishop, irritated at the monk's want of respect, sent
a message threatening to excommunicate Schnoudi
unless he came forth at once. The abbot smiled.
" I am sitting here," he said, " with my Lord. What
would the excommunication mean to me ? " But the
Lord said to him, " Go, lest I be compelled to cast
' See Amelineau's trans, referred to above. This story is found in
both the Coptic and Arabic versions of the Vita.

124 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
thee out of heaven. For have I not promised that
whatever they shall bind on earth shall be bound in
heaven ? " Then Schnoudi ran in haste to the bishop,
and kneeling before him, besought his pardon.
Afterwards the bishop knelt while Schnoudi blessed
him. The story has reached us lit by the dramatic in
stinct of the wonder-loving Coptic narrator. Never
theless there is in it an expression of a great
experience, an experience common, no doubt, to
all who have possessed an original genius for
religion. Here is a soul fully conscious of direct
personal intercourse with Jesus beset by the insis
tent clairas of an ecclesiastical duty and obedience.
The history of the Church furnishes us with example
after example of the same situation. Unfortunately
very often the issue has been a sad one— schism
with its resulting bitterness — a great loss to the
Church, and narrow-heartedness for the schismatic.
The Coptic story ends happily, and its ending
represents the actual facts of history. In the two
final tableaux vve see the true relation of the
ascetic to the Church. The monk is on his knees
before the earthly representative of the Lord, in
whose presence he dwells. The monk is giving his
benediction to the chief official of the earthly
Church, There is another story vvhich also illustrates the
relation of the monks to the Church. In the form

EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM 125
in vvhich I tell it, it is to be found among Ameli
neau's! Contes et Romans de I' Egypt Chritienne, but
it is also to be found in a shorter form among the
" Apophthegmata Patrum " in Rosweyd.^ A certain
priest was in the habit of ministering to an
anchorite. Once it vvas told the anchorite that
this priest was a sinner. The next day he shut
the door of his cell, and refused to admit the
priest That night there came a dream to the
anchorite. He stood in a beautiful garden in
which were growing all kinds of trees and flowers.
At the end of the garden was the engine by vvhich
water for irrigation vvas drawn from the river.
The wheels of the engine and all its water-vessels
were of gold. " Then, as I looked," says the
anchorite, " I felt a great desire to drink of the
water. But I saw that the man vvho tended the
engine was a loathsome leper. Then I no more
desired to drink." To him then came a voice which
bid him look upon the flowers and trees. " Does
the sickness of the man you have seen injure the
flowers ancT trees which he waters ? " asked the
voice, and added, " Thus it is also vvith the priest
that offers. If he is a sinner it does not diminish
anything frora the honour due to the Body of the
Saviour, for the divine virtue is always active in
^ Vol, ii. p, 74. This is a most interesting book, and the Introduc
tion valuable to the student of Egyptian monasticism.
- Vit. Patr., v- 9, II.

126 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
the Sacrament." The anchorite woke, and slept
again and dreamed. In his dreara he went down
from his cell and begged the pardon of the priest
" My father," said the priest to him, " have you
entered the garden and seen the engine wrought
vvith gold, and the miserable gardener, and the
raisfortune vvhich has overwhelraed him ? " Then
taking him by the hand, the priest led him again
into the garden, and he saw, as before, the fruit
trees and the flowers, and the man at the engine,
but, lo ! he was healed. Then said the priest,
" His disease is cured, for the forty years of your
renunciation have been accepted for his healing."
" Then," says the anchorite, " I awoke, and there
vvas no garden, but I found the priest lying at the
door of my cell."
This story has neither name nor date. We can
only say of it that in its older form it came from
Lower Egypt, and vvas told first some time during
the fourth or earlier half of the fifth century. It
represents historical fact only as a myth does, that
is to say, it reproduces the spirit of a certain time
under a form calculated to engage the popular atten
tion. For our purpose vve may regard the story as
true in the sense in which Bunyan's allegory is true.
It meant something to the man who told it first, and
to those who for centuries continued to tell it and
enlarge it If the vision never literally came to any
monk, yet the experience must have belonged not to

EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM 127
one, but to many in the Egyptian deserts. Does not
the story represent what is still, though seldom so
vividly, a real human experience? We see the
intolerant dread of all that threatens poUution. We
see the way of God, who gives His gifts most mys
teriously. These two elements are common in all
history of religious life. What is not common is the
conclusion of the story, yet this is in strict accordance
with vvhat actually took place.
If the idea of early Egyptian monasticism, vvhich
I have tried to express, be the true one, then we
must conceive of these monks as men to whom
inward spirituality was everything. They lived their
lives for the sake of direct personal intercourse with
God. For this they were prepared to sacrifice not
only the pleasures and ambitions vvhich for most men
constitute the good of life, but even the consolations
and comforts which the Church offers to her children.
Because the Church in her progress towards the con
quest of the world had herself put on the garments
of the world, these men stood apart from her. All
experience goes to show us the danger of such an
attitude. It is very easily conceivable that Egyptian
monasticism might have ended in a schism like that
in England of the Quakers in the seventeenth cen
tury, or of the Methodists in the eighteenth. It
cannot but be of interest to indicate briefly the
causes which worked for the close union which came
to exist in Egypt between the bishops and the monks.

128 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
First in importance I would place the personalities
of the two men who headed respectively the monks
and the Church. I have already described the
character of St. Antony.! n jg sufficient to add
that he vvas too great and too good a man to be a
schismatic. His influence with the monks up to the
date of his death, in 356, was very great. No monk
afterwards, not even St. Benedict or Odo of Clugny,
ever occupied such a position as he did. Throughout
the whole cycle of the literature of the movement
St, Antony's sayings and doings are repeated and
quoted as final authorities on any topic. He is con
sulted in every difficulty. St. Antony's life covers
the period of development. He set the great
example of the solitary life. He lived till his
disciple St Macarius ministered as a priest to
congregations of monks in a church in the Scetic
desert. On the other side, the Church side, during the
whole critical period St Athanasius exercised a
ruling influence. His praise is in all the churches.
At him even Gibbon dare not sneer. We know that
he was too great a man to harbour jealousy, too good
a man to fail in sympathy for any truly spiritual
ideal. Next among the causes which worked for peace
I vvould place the ascetic's insistence on the virtue
' Newman, in his Church of the Fathers, has two essays on
St. Antony, in which his character is dis-russed.

EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM 129
of obedience. It vvas, indeed, only the obedience
of the disciple to his master, of the young monk
to his spiritual father, which they taught. I find
no trace at first of the idea of the submission of
the individual to the Church. Still, where obedi
ence of any sort is recognised as a virtue, separa
tion from the Church becomes unlikely. No later
monastic system has ever enforced obedience more
strongly than the Egyptian fathers did. Com
mands, however absurd,! however criminal even, were
to be obeyed literally and at once. "Obedience,"^
says one, "is the mother of all the virtues. Obedi
ence is that which openeth heaven and raiseth man
from the earth. Obedience dwelleth with the angels.
Obedience is the food of all the saints. By her they
are nourished. Through her they come to per
fection." Men vvho learn thus to trample upon
' For instance (in Cass,, Inst., iv. 24), we read how the Abbot John
— afterwards celebrated as John of LycopoUs — was bidden to plant
and water a dry, mouldy stick. This he did for a long time, summer
and winter, although he had to fetch water from a well two miles
distant. A similar story is told in Sulpic. Severus' Dialogues (i. 13).
The same John laboured manfully at the obviously impossible task of
pushing a great boulder from its place simply because he was bidden to
do so. He received the gift of prophecy as a reward for his obedience.
Another monk started forth to throw his son into a river at the command
of his abbot {ibid., 27). A pretty story is told of Mark, the disciple of
Silvanus. He was writing in his cell when his master called him. He
obeyed so promptly that he left unfinished the letter he was in the act of
forming ( Vit. Fair., iii. 143).
2 Vit. Fat., V, iv. 19.

I30 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
individual volition are not being trained to assert
themselves against the Church.
Thirdly, notice must be taken of the circumstances
of the Egyptian Church during the episcopate of
St Athanasius, The monks, as I conceive their
spirit, retired from a Church that had become
worldly. They distrusted a Church whose bishops
stood beside the Emperor's throne, whose members
found Christianity compatible with the world's
favour. Now the Arian reaction against the Nicene
formula was engineered by Eusebius of Nicomedia
and his party from the Court of the Emperor. It is
no contradiction of this to say that Constantine
himself remained a supporter of the Nicene Creed.
The reaction was craftily worked. It did not at first
take the form of a protest against the creed, but
rather of a series of personal attacks upon its framers
and chief supporters. The Eusebian party were not,
strictly speaking, a religious party at all. Their
strength lay in politics and intrigue. They did not
hesitate to make use of a mob of Jews, heathens,
and half heathens, to drive St. Athanasius out of
Alexandria. It may be taken for granted that the
great bulk of the political converts whom the con
version of Constantine had induced to take the name
of Christian would be on the side of Arianism. The
Arian position vvas intelligible to the ordinary edu
cated man ; the orthodox creed was not The Arian

EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM 131
theology made a lower deraand upon the faculty of
faith. It may be even that the raore clear-sighted
saw in Arianism the suicide of Christianity. At all
events, it is easy to see vvhich side in the great con
troversy was likely to command the sympathy of the
monks. From the year 335 until 364 the orthodox
Egyptian Church was, with intervals of quiet, a per
secuted body. The power of the State was used
against its bishop. Political and irreligious ecclesi
astics were its chief enemies. Pagan and half-pagan
mobs desecrated its sacred buildings, insulted dedi
cated virgins, persecuted the faithful. A Church in
such circumstances as these has everything in it to
attract, and nothing left to repel the spirit of the
monks. Their enthusiasm was sure to be enlisted
in so great a struggle. They could not have been
enthusiastic for the politics of Eusebius of Nicomedia
or for the timid conservativisra of Eusebius of
Caesarea. It was for them only possible to range
themselves as they did on the side of St Athanasius
and the Nicene orthodoxy.
Thus, partly owing to the personal characters of
St. Antony and St Athanasius, partly owing to the
training of the monks in obedience, and partly to
the circumstances of the Egyptian Church at the
time, the danger of the monastic movement de
generating into a Puritan schism vvas averted. The
ascetic spirit found a home within the circle of the

132 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Catholic Church. The Church found and recog
nised an ally which, in ways that were sometimes
evil, but raainly good, was destined to support her,
reforra her, and even to guide her for more than a
thousand years.

THE LIFE AND IDEAL OF THE
EGYPTIAN MONKS

Lord, I have fasted, I have prayed.
And sackcloth has my girdle been ;
To purge my soul I have essayed
With hunger blank and vigil keen,
O God of mercy ! why am I
Still haunted by the self I fly?
Sackcloth is a girdle good,
O bind it round thee still ;
Fasting, it is angels' food,
And Jesus loved the night-air chill ;
Yet think not prayer and fast were given
To make one step 'twixt earth and heaven,
Lyra Apostolica.
Tibi nobilius est servire quam regna mundi capessere. Domine quia
in nobis non est quod remunereris, sed in te semper est quod largiaris,
eripe me a me, et conserva me in te. Impugna quod feci et vindica
quod fecisti, tunc ero meus cum fuero tuus. Te autem amare,
salvari, formidare gaudere, invenire crevisse, amisisse perire est.
Cassiodorus.
If there be anything herein which by reason of his condition or the
character of his profession, or owing to custom or the common mode
of life, seems to the reader 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 men, whose zeal and purpose he should first consider,
as they were truly dead to this worldly life and so hampered by no
feelings for their kinsmen according to the flesh and by no ties of
worldly occupations. Next let him bear in mind the character of the
country in which they dwelt, how they lived in a vast desert and were
cut off from intercourse with all their fellow-men, and thus were able
to have their minds enlightened, and to contemplate and utter those
things which perhaps will seem impossibilities to the uninstructed.
But if anyone 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. Cassian, P/eface to Conferences.

CHAPTER V
THE LIFE AND IDEAL OF THE
EGYPTIAN MONKS
' I ""HE life of the Egyptian fathers of monasticism
-»- was one of almost unceasing spiritual conflict.
The attainment of the righteousness for which they
hungered depended upon their conquest of faults and
vices which beset them on every side, sometimes
forcing, sometimes alluring them into sin. It will be
most easily possible for us to realise the meaning and
the intensity of these conflicts if we take one by one
the chief faults against which the universal experience
of the monks warned thera to be armed.
Cassian gives a list of eight principal faults,!
devoting a book of his Institutes to the consideration
of each of them. The same list is given by the
Abbot Serapion^ in his conference vvith Cassian, and
one alraost exactly similar by Evagrius Pontikus. It
has been suggested* that the list was originally com
piled and the faults classified by St. Macarius the
Great. There is no evidence to support this hypo-
^ Inst., V. to xii. ^ Coll., v.
"'" By Zockler, in Askese tt. Monchtum, p. 254.
135

136 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
thesis, and it seems in itself unlikely, for if St
Macarius had actually made such a list as that given
by Cassian and Evagrius, it would most probably
have become the standard list of the Lower Egyptian
monks, whereas vve see from some of the collections
of the "Apophthegmata"! ^j^^t other lists of faults
and their opposing virtues were made and used.
Cassian's list is as follows : — (i) Gluttony, (2)
Fornication, (3) Covetousness, (4) Anger, (5) Dejec
tion, (6) Accidie, (7) Vainglory, (8) Pride.^
Gluttony was considered by the monks to be the
root of almost every kind of evil. "The six first,
faults on the list," * says Serapion, " are linked
together in a kind of chain, so that any excess
in the one gives a starting-point for the next For
from superfluity of gluttony fornification is sure to
spring, and from fornication covetousness, and from
' Thus we find enumerated in book vii, of the Vit. Patrum. : —
(l) GasLnmargia, (2) philargyria, (3) avaritia, (4) ira, (5) tristitia, (6)
vana gloria, (7) superbia, (8) curiositas, (9) contentio ; and a list of
virtues in book v. : (i) Quies, (2) compunctio, (3) continentia, (4)
nihil possidere, (5) patientia seu fortitudo, (6) discretio, (7) obedientia,
(S) humilitas, (9) patientia, (10) charitas, (11) contemplatio. These
lists can in no way be made to fit in with or balance that of Cassian.
" (l) Gluttony — ya<XTpLfiap-/[a — gula or gastrimargia.
(2) Fornication — -iropvela — luxuria.
(3) Covetousness — <pi\apyvpla — avaritia.
(4) Anger — dpy-rj — ira.
(S) Dejection — XiJTn; — tristitia.
(6) Accidie — d/cijSia — pigritia or acedia.
(7) Vainglory — KevoSo^ta — vanitas.
(S) Pride — vTrep7](j)avla. — superbia.
^ Cass., Coll., V. 10.

LIFE OF THE EGYPTIAN MONKS 137
covetousness anger, from anger dejection, from dejec
tion accidie." Gluttony is of three kinds. There is
the gluttony which leads a monk to break his fast
before the proper time, to anticipate the hour of a
meal. There is that vvhich leads him to eat to
satiety. There is that which renders him dainty
and desirous of delicacies. Against all three kinds
the remedy is fasting. Some of the language used
by the monks about gluttony and some of their fasts
strike the modern reader as exaggerated and unreal.
There was, however, a genuinely religious feeling at
the back of their distrust of fullness of bread, and
they are most careful to guard against the sup
position that fasting was a virtue In itself or any
thing else, except a means for the attainment of a
spiritual end. "The belly," says Cassian,! "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 in all kinds of food makes it
weak and uncertain, and robs it of all its power
of clear and pure contemplation." Here we see
that the object in view is not simply the conquest
of the body, but the avoidance of dangerous desires
and the attainment of a position in which spiritual
contemplation becoraes possible. Fasting was a
* Inst., V. 6.

138 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
means to this end, but no more than a raeans. It
is to be regulated by considerations of how best
the end may be obtained. Thus : " A reasonable
supply of food partaken of daily, with moderation,
is better than a severe and long fast at intervals.
Excessive fasting has been known not only to
undermine the constancy of the mind, but also to
weaken the power of prayers through sheer weari
ness of the body."! ¦pjjg y^lue of fasting did not
depend upon considerations of its duration, or the
actual quantity of food taken, but upon the self-
conquest involved in refusing to satisfy the appetite.
"One^ of the fathers was wont to say, 'A man
may eat much, and yet be hungry. He keeps him
self from actual satisfaction. Another eats but little,
and yet is satisfied. He vvho eats much without
being full has a greater reward than he vvho eats
little and is filled.' " Since fasting was regarded
simply as a means, it vvas always the duty of a
monk to break his fast for the sake of practising a
virtue such as that of charity or hospitality. Thus
Cassian tells of a monk who had six times broken
his -fast in one day because six different strangers
had come into his cell.* Fasting, in the words of
various fathers, " weakens the enemy within," " is the
bridle of sin," "conquers the passions," Where it
fails of its purpose it is worse than useless, " It*
1 Inst., V. 9. 2 Yn Patr., iii. 4, 8.
' Inst., V. 25. ¦* Ruf, Verb. Sen., 134.

LIFE OF THE EGYPTIAN MONKS 139
is better to eat flesh and drink wine than to devour
a brother's flesh through envy." A beautiful story!
is told of an interview between St, Epiphanius and
St. Hilarion. On the occasion of a visit to St
Epiphanius, St. Hilarion found him eating some
fowl. St Hilarion refused to share the meal. " I
have never," he said, " eaten anything that has
been killed since I adopted the monastic life."
" I," replied St Epiphanius, " since I became a
monk, have never suffered anyone to sleep vvho
had a just cause of offence against me, neither
have I ever slept with a grudge on my mind
against anyone." " Pardon me," said St. Hilarion,
"your plan of life is better than mine."
It would be possible to add to the quotations I
have made a large nuraber similar in spirit. Mere
repetition, however, is wearisome rather than con
vincing. Enough has been quoted to show how
entirely unfounded is the charge brought against
the Egyptian monks of being the slaves of a mecha
nical theory of virtue and elevating the practice of
austerities to the place of a virtue in itself Their
fasting was anything but mechanical. Its place in
their scheme of Christian life was clearly indicated.
It helped towards virtue, and no more. The spirit of
the Egyptian teaching was utterly opposed to violent
excesses, in spite of sorae individual exceptions.
Next in Cassian's list of great faults comes forni-
' Vit. Patr., V. 4, 15.

I40 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
cation. By fornication the monks meant all sexual
relations, and, in strict conformity to our Lord's
teaching, all emotion arising from the relation of the
sexes. Their ideal was a sexless life, such as that of
the angels. The phrases "angelica ordo," "angelica
conversatio " ! are constantly used to describe the
virgin life. We recognise that the ideal of virginity
is absolutely necessary for the monastic life. As
might be expected, the struggle against sexual
passion and emotion vvas a very severe one for,
many of the Egyptian monks. Their records con
tain stories of desperate expedients occasionally
resorted to which, if they shock the reader, at least
demonstrate the sincerity of the monks. Lament
able falls were not infrequent. There are stories
of monks who suddenly gave up the struggle and
rushed with frantic eagerness into depths of degra
dation. The torment of evil thoughts was very
common. The monk who felt himself unendurably
vexed in this way used to consult vvith older monks
to find, in advice, some way of escape. Here are
two specimens of the way in which such confessions
were received. Cyrus of Alexandria replied to one
who consulted him,^ "If you have no evil thoughts
you have no hope, because if you have . no evil
thoughts you are the slave of evil deeds. He who
' These phrases were, so far as I know, first used by Origen.
They are, of course, based on our Lord's words in St. Mark xii. 25.
^ Vit. Patr., V. 5, 5.

LIFE OF THE EGYPTIAN MONKS 141
sins in the body has no trouble from evil thoughts."
Another! brother was vexed vvith impure thoughts.
Rising by night he went to the cell of an old man, who
consoled him. This he did many times whenever the
vexation came to him. At length, almost in despair at
the persistence of the teraptation, he said, " Father,
of your charity speak some word of comfort to me."
The old man replied to him, " Believe me, my son,
that if God permitted my thoughts, with which I
am tried, to enter into you, you could not bear them,
but would flee hence altogether to perdition." When
the old man spoke thus the impure thoughts de
parted from the young man's mind as he contem
plated the father's great humility. Sometiraes fasting
and watching are recommended. " I crucify myself,"
said one old man, " by ceaseless appetite for food and
sleep. Thus I cannot feel the attacks of impurity."
Sometimes quite the opposite course is recomraended.
One monk vvho had worn hiraself out with fasting
and watching is bidden to rise and eat raoderately,
that his body may be stronger to resist the attacks
of evil.
All the great faults to vvhich the monks felt them
selves liable are recognised as the attacks of special
demons. This is realised pecuUarly vividly in the
case of impurity. There are several stories of monks
to whom the demon appeared in the form of a
beautiful woman. The endings of such stories are
* Vit. Patr., xiii.

142 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
sometimes highly dramatic.! A monk yields to such
seduction, and in a moment the form he tried to
grasp vanishes amid shrieks of diabolic rairth.
Desperately severe as these contests sometimes
were, it would be very easy to exaggerate their
importance in the lives of the monks. Historians
have sometimes written as if the whole Egyptian
monastic life was a continued struggle against sex
passion. It vvas nothing of the sort. The literature
of this monasticism, taken as a whole, is less tinged
vvith sexuality than the novels we read to-day.
There is a far smaller proportion of stories in which
sex is the leading motif than among the contes,
vvhich were laughed at among the French and
Italian nobility of the Renaissance. In spite of the
suggestions of Weingarten^ to the contrary, the
literature vvhich comprises the lives and sayings of
these monks is pure in its treatraent of difficult
topics, and singularly free from any exaggeration of
their importance.
Next on Cassian's list comes avarice. As the
monks conceived it, avarice was a vice very difficult
to conquer and eradicate. Poverty vvas its remedy,
but it was recognised that avarice did not consist
in the possession of goods, nor true poverty in being
without them. Avarice is the desire to possess. - A
man might own literally nothing, and yet if he
' Hist. Laus., xliv.
^ Ursprung des Monchtums, pp. 4, 5,

LIFE OF THE EGYPTIAN MONKS 143
wished to get something he fell into the sin of
avarice. The first step towards the conquest of
avarice was the complete renunciation of all pro
perty. There is a story of a young man who came
to St. Antony desiring to become a monk, and yet
clinging to some smaU portion of his property.! St.
Antony bid him go to the nearest village, buy some
meat, and bind it to his naked body.* He obeyed,
and after a while returned to the saint, showing his
limbs bitten by dogs and torn by the beaks of birds.
St Antony said to him, " Those who renounce the
world, yet desire to keep possessions, are thus torn
by the demons vvho fight against them." Even, how
ever, when the original act of renunciation was as
complete as possible, the demon of avarice attacked
men's souls in most insidious ways. Sometimes the
dread of old age or sickness tempted a monk to
hoard up some portion of the scanty profits of his
labour. There vvas a certain monk who was accus
tomed to give to the poor all that remained of his
earnings after he had bought the food necessary for
his support- One day the devil suggested to him
that he should save something against the time when
he should be old or sick. Yielding to the suggestion,
he collected a quantity of money. It happened that
after a while he fell ill, and his foot was threatened
with mortification. He spent all his savings in
paying doctors, but vvas made no better by their
1 Vit. Patr., V. 6, I. ^ Ibid., v. 6, 21,

144 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
treatment. He prayed to God : " Be mindful, 0
Lord, of the work which once I did, and the money
vvhich once I gave to the poor." An angel came to
hira and reproached hira. " Where now is the
money you saved? Where now is the hope which
led you to save it ? " And the monk said, " I have
sinned. Pardon me.'' Then the angel touched his
foot, and it was healed.
Monks were taught to make their renunciation of
property as coraplete as possible. There was a
certain monk vvho kept several books in the window
of his cell.! The Abbot Serapion rebuked him in
these words : " 1 have nothing to say to you, since
you keep what belongs to the widow and the orphan
and flaunt it in the window of your cell." Another^
monk possessed only a single copy of the gospels.
After a while he sold even this, and gave the price
away. " I have sold," he said, " the very book which
bid me sell all that I had."
Sometiraes the raonks reached a pitch of renuncia
tion which reminds us of the words of the Lord : " If
any raan take from thee thy cloak, let him take thy
coat also." For instance,* St Macarius once retumed
to his cell to find that a robber was rifling it of its
scanty furniture. Pretending to be a stranger, he
harnessed the robber's horse for him and led it out
Then he patiently said, " We brought nothing into
this world. The Lord hath given, and the Lord
1 Vit. Patr., v. 6, 12. » Rut, 70. = Ibid., 73,

LIFE OF THE EGYPTIAN MONKS 145
hath taken away. As it seemed good to Him, so
hath He done. Blessed be the name of the Lord,"
Another! monk was once robbed of his little store
of food by one of the brethren. He suffered greatly
from the privation, but he consoled himself by think
ing that no doubt the stolen bread vvas necessary to
the life of the brother who took it. After a while
his strength altogether failed him, and he lay dying.
The brethren gathered round him to say farewell.
Seeing the brother vvho had robbed him, he called
him over, took his hands and kissed them. " I kiss
the hands of this brother," he said, " because through
him I am going, as I think, to the Kingdom of
Heaven." Some of the admonitions of the fathers on the
subject of avarice are very well worthy of notice.
The Abbot Agathon^ used to say, " Own nothing
which it vvould grieve you to give to another —
nothing which would lead you to transgress the
commandment of the Lord, ' Give to him that asketh
of thee, and from him that would borrow turn not
thou away.'" A certain father* being asked by a
brother what he should do to be saved, replied by
stripping himself and stretching out his hands in the
form of a cross. " Thus," he said, " ought a monk to
be naked of all that belongs to this world, and to
crucify himself against the temptations and struggles
of the worid,"
1 Ruf,, 74. ^ Vit. Patr., v. 2, 4. ' Veri. Sen., v. 6, 16.

146 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Poverty, like virginity, is absolutely essential for
a monastic life. Fasting may be more or less severe,
according to circumstances. Virginity and poverty
raust be absolute. Wives and children and property
are the things vvhich bind men to the world. The
renunciation of these is the price vvhich the monk
pays for his freedom frora all earthly ties. Just as
in the case of their virginity the monks set before
themselves the example of the life of the angels,
so with regard to their poverty they found a model
in the lives of the apostles and the early Church at
Jerusalem. They conceived theraselves to be fol
lowing the footsteps of the first Christians when
they gave up all earthly property. Two scriptural
examples afforded an awful warning to the monk
who shrank back from his vocation. Judas through
covetousness incurred perpetual infamy and died an
ignominious death. Ananias and Sapphira feared to
make the gift of their property complete. Judas
typified for the monks the avarice which desires to
acquire, Ananias and Sapphira that which seeks to
retain, property. One other catastrophe is quoted
from Scripture as a warning — that of Gehazi.
Through covetousness he not only incurred the
punishment of leprosy, but, and this is a noticeable
point in the monastic conception of his punishment,
he lost the chance of becoming a prophet and in
heriting the spirit of Elisha.
So far the lists of the eight principal faults given

LIFE OF THE EGYPTIAN MONKS 147
by Cassian and Evagrius are identical. The fourth
fault on Cassian's list is anger, and the fifth dejection.
Evagrius reverses the order of these two, putting
dejection fourth and anger fifth. I keep to the order
of Cassian, as being the more logical of the two.!
Anger is not, like the other faults vvhich have been
treated, specially a danger to the monk or the ascetic.
It is not even a sin peculiar to the Christian system
of morality. The peculiarity of the monastic con
ception of this fault is that the possibiUty of righteous
anger is denied. A monk has no right to be angry,
even with the sinfulness of a brother. To attempt to
cure another man's sin by displaying indignation
against it is the same thing as for a physician to
inoculate himself vvith a dangerous fever in order to
cure some Ught distemper in a patient. St Paul's
saying, " Let not the sun go down upon your wrath,"
receives a raystical interpretation,^ in accordance with
the raonastic idea of the sinfulness of all anger.
"The sun "is the "Sun of Righteousness" — that is,
the Lord. He shines upon the life of the raonk, and
all is well. So soon, however, as the spirit of anger
enters the heart of a monk, the sun of righteousness
goes down for him, and his life is in darkness. " Let
not the sun go down upon your wrath" is therefore
an absolute prohibition of all anger, with a penalty
attached to it.
^ Logical, because, as Cassian truly remarks, dejection is one of the
consequences of a fit of anger. - Inst., viii. lo.

148 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Retirement from the society of men is no safe
guard against anger. " It is not enough not to be
angry with men. For when living in solitude a
feeling may creep over us against our pen because
it is too large or too small, against our pen-knife
when it cuts badly or with a blunt edge what we
want cut, or against a flint if by chance when we
are rather late and hurrying a spark of fire flashes
out, so that we cannot get rid of our perturbation
of mind except by cursing the senseless matter or
at least the devil."! Thus there was once a monk^
vvho, while he dwelt vvith others, vvas continually
vexed with a spirit of anger. Determined to cure
himself, he said, " I shall go into the desert, where
I shall have no one to quarrel vvith, so perhaps this
passion vvill cease to trouble me." He departed and
dwelt alone in a cave. One day, after he had filled
his pitcher and placed it on the ground before his
cell, it vvas suddenly upset and the water spilled.
Three times he filled it, and three times it was upset.
Then, losing his temper, he seized the pitcher and
broke it When he came to himself, and realised
how he had been tricked by the demon of anger,
he said, " Lo, I am here alone, and yet I have been
conquered by anger. I shall return to my monastery,
where I shall have every need of patience, and there
with the grace of God to help me."
* Inst., viii, 19,
2 Vit. Patr., iii, 98. Ruf., 9S,

LIFE OF THE EGYPTIAN MONKS 149
Like the other sins, anger is the work of a special
demon. Sometimes his personality is very vividly
conceived. There were two brothers who dwelt
together.! A malignant demon planned to cause
them to quarrel. One evening, as usual, the
younger brother lighted the candle and put it on
the candlestick. The demon overturned and ex
tinguished it. Then, entering into the heart of
the elder brother, he excited him to such a frenzy
of wrath that he fell to beating the younger
furiously. He fell upon the earth and besought
for pardon. " Have mercy on me, my lord, and I
will again light the candle." Then, because he
made no fierce reply, the malignant demon was
filled with confusion and departed from them. That
night he confessed his failure to the chief of the
demons in these words: "Because of the humility
of the monk who lay prostrate upon the earth and
begged his brother's pardon, I was unable to prevail
against them. God beheld his humility and poured
His grace upon him. Thus it is I who ara twisted
and tortured, for I have failed to separate them from
each other."
The opposite of anger is patience. The ideal is
set forth in the words of the Lord, " If a man smite
thee on the one cheek, turn to him the other also."
The monks tried literally to fulfil the command.
There^ were two philosophers who wished to try the
1 Vit. Patr., iii, iS. = Ibid., v. 1 6, 17.

I50 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
patience of a monk. They called to him roughly,
" Come hither, thou wicked old man." He came
to them running. They began to strike him on the
face. At once he turned to them the " other cheek."
John! ^jjg Short vvas sitting one day in front of the
church, with the brethren gathered round him. A
certain brother, filled vvith envy, said, " Your pitcher,
Father John, is full of poison." To him the Abbot
John replied, "Father, you speak the truth. You
say such things of me when you see only what is
without. How much worse things vvould you say
if you could behold what is within me, the thoughts
of my heart." A certain- brother once came to the
Abbot Sisois, and said to him, " I have been injured
by one of the brethren, and I wish to be avenged on
him." To whora the old man said, " Wish it not, my
son. Leave vengeance to God." But he said, " I
cannot rest till I have avenged myself' Then said
the old raan, " Let us pray," and rising up, he prayed,
" O God, we have no need that Thou shouldest take
thought for us at all, since we are well able to avenge
ourselves." Hearing this prayer the brother fell to
the ground and said, " I am no longer angry with
him who injured me. I beseech you pardon me."
" Of dejection," says the Abbot Serapion,* " there
are two kinds ; one, that vvhich springs up when
' Ruf, gz. This is a different man from John of Lycopolis, whose
obedience is referred to above.
' Ibid., 77. 5 Cass., Coll., V, II.

LIFE OF THE EGYPTIAN MONKS 151
anger has died down, or is the result of some loSs
which vve have incurred or some purpose vvhich has
been hindered or interfered with ; the other, that
vvhich coraes from unreasonable anxiety of mind or
from despair." The first kind manifests itself in
continual irritability and gloom. The monk who has
fallen into this fault cannot receive the visits of the
brethren without irritation, nor will he speak with
civility even to his friends. No matter what subject
of conversation is started, it seems ill suited to his
mood. He lacks all insight into divine things in his
hours of contemplation. He finds no gladness in
prayer. This dejection is the " sorrow of this world "
spoken of by St. Paul, and it " worketh death.'' The
opposite of this dejection is joyful thankfulness.
There were two brethren once who fell into sin, but
afterwards repented.! The elders shut them into a
cell for a whole year, and fed them vvith a measured
portion of bread and water. At the end of the year
they came out. One looked pale and sad, the other
robust and cheerful. The elders were astonished,
and asked the first, "What thoughts had you in
your cell ? " He replied, " I thought of the evil
I had done and the punishment vvhich I had to
endure. So from fear my bones cleave to my flesh."
Then they asked the other, "What thoughts had
you ? " He said, " I used to give God thanks for
rescuing me from the iniquity of this world and
' Vit. Patr., V. 34.

152 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
from future punishment, He has brought me back
again to the angelic life. Therefore, remembering
Plim, I am filled with joy."
The other kind of dejection is far more terrible
and deadly. It is despair like that of Cain or of
Judas. It follows grievous sins. The poor monk
believes that he has sinned beyond the possibility
of repentance, and his life ends in some awful moral
tragedy. The cruel severity vvhich suggests such
despair to the sinner's mind is treated by the wiser
and greater fathers vvith terrible punishments. There
are stories of fallen monks driven on to suicide, or
worse, by the heartless condemnation of some older
brother, who were rescued at the last moment by a
wise tenderness vvhich gave them hope. Sometimes
these stories end in utter gloom. There was a monk
who fell.! j^g passed days and nights in lamentation.
Finally he despaired altogether of his own salvation.
He returned to the world and was lost. Sometimes
the struggle against the demon of dejection is terribly
severe, even when it ends in victory. There was a
monk who, before his conversion, had led a very
wicked life." He went, like St Antony, to dweU in
a tomb. After he had been there for a week demons
of despair assailed him. " Where," they cried, " is
this impudent and wicked man who thinks to escape
us? Thou art altogether filled vvith our evil, and
canst not be saved. Come vvith us and enjoy the
' Hist. Xa«i.,xliv. ' Ibid., xiv.

LIFE OF THE EGYPTIAN MONKS 153
pleasures of sin, since in any case thou must come
into condemnation." So they taunted him. But
when he turned from them vvith many tears, and
vvould not listen, they caught him, beat him, and left
him nearly dead. For three nights they persisted in
their attacks. At last, when they could not drive
him to despair, they fled away, crying out, " Thou
hast conquered; thou hast conquered," "Thus it
has happened," says the narrator of the story, " that
many vvho were driven to despair about their souls
have, in the end, advanced to good actions."
I have no hesitation in using the word " accidie " as
the English equivalent of uKtiSia. In the first place,
there is no other possible translation, and, in the
second place, "accidie" is sanctioned in old English
by Chaucer, In later times by Bishop Hall,! ^nd quite
recently by the present Bishop of Oxford,- in an
essay on the subject of this fault. This essay and
the sermon which follows it are deeply interesting
and instructive. They go far beyond the limits of
Egyptian monasticism in tracing the experiences
vvhich religious men have had of this particular
^ Chaucer, in the Personis Tale, has, " After the sinne of wrath,
wol I now speke of the sinne of accidie." Bishop Hall, in his Sermons
(v, 140), says : " Though the mind be sufficiently convinced of the
necessity and profit of a good action, yet for the tediousness annexed
to it in a dangerous spiritual acedy, it insensibly slips away firom it."
Bishop HaU adopts the correct spelling, "acedy." I retain the
"accidie" of Chaucer as being more or less familiar through the
Bishop of Oxford's essay.
- Spirit of Discipline.

154 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
fault It may be that the term accidie came after
wards to enlarge its meaning, or that Dr. Paget has
confused accidie vvith dejection, but the term in his
writings means something different from vvhat it did
in Cassian's Jjtstitutes. The text vvhich Dr. Paget
takes for his sermon on accidie — " The sorrow of this
world worketh death" — is applied by Cassian to
dejection and not to accidie.
Accidie is really a kind of dull weariness born of
intolerable monotony and the triviality of daily life.
It is indeed akin to dejection, but different. It affects
the man who yields to it in one of two ways. Either
he becomes listless and apathetic and falls asleep, or
he grows restless, discontented, and longs for change.
The demon of dejection is one that attacks men in
the night Accidie is the demon that wasteth at
noonday. The! unfortunate monk who falls a
I victim to this demon rises and wanders through the
door of his cell. He looks up and down, in hope
that someone is coming to visit him. He gazes at
the sun and wonders that it Is so slow about its daily
journey to the west. He lies down and sleeps
awhile. Rises and thinks with disgust of the work
that ought to be done around his cell. He makes his
way to the cell of some neighbour and enters into
1 For this description of the monk suffering from accidie, I have
gathered various details from Cassian and the "Apophthegmata." It is
unnecessary to refer in detail to the exact sources of each part of the
description.

LIFE OF THE EGYPTIAN MONKS 155
discursive talk with him. Soon he wearies of this.;
He decides in his own mind that the conversation of
the brethren among whom he lives is dull and tire
some. In other communities the brethren, he feels
sure, are more spiritual and their talk more profit
able. He returns to his own cell to find his water-
jar is empty. It is a mile or more to the well, and
the day is still hot. He decides to leave a neighbour
hood where the bare necessaries of life are so hard to
come by. He sleeps awhile again. Then a spasm
of mental activity sets him thinking how great and
good a man he might be somewhere else. He feels
sure that he is capable of teaching the ignorant, but
where he lives there seems to be no one worth teach
ing. He would like some great monastery to rule.
How well he would rule it I Some great deed to do.
How boldly he would do it ! He would be a different
man, much better and greater, if only he were placed
in some other surroundings, were anywhere else but
where he is. He sets out from his cell to visit some
sick man, goes quite a long journey to do so. When
he returns things are no better, but rather worse.
The contemplation of the monotonous stretch of days
that lies before him becomes simply an intolerable
obsession. This is the disease or sin of accidie as Cassian
described It. No less than gluttony or anger, it is
utterly subversive of the spiritual life.
It meets us at the very beginning of the monastic

156 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
life in Egypt. Even St. Antony! had to fight against
it "St Antony was one day seated in the desert
His mind was full of weariness and wandering
thoughts. He said, ' Lord, I wish to be saved, but
my thoughts will not let me. What shall I do in
this trouble ? How shall I be safe ? ' After a while
he rose and went out of his cell. He beheld a certain
man, as it had been himself, who sat and worked,
then rose from his work and prayed, then again sat
and wove a mat, then again rose and prayed. This
was an angel of the Lord sent to chide and
caution Antony. He heard the angel say to him,
' This do, and you shall be saved.' And he, acting
thus, found the salvation vvhich he sought"
The remedy for accidie which naturally suggests
itself is change of scene and frequent intercourse with
others. The fathers saw that such a remedy was
really fatal to the victim of the demon. Again and
again they insist that the one hope for the monk is
to remain in his cell. The Abbot Arsenius^ said to
a brother who suffered from accidie : " Go back to
your cell. Eat if you like. Drink if you like.
Sleep if you like. Only do not leave your cell." So
Cassian* tells the Abbot Moses that having suffered
severely from accidie, he found no relief except by
running to the cell of the Abbot Paul. But Moses
said to hira, "You have not freed yourself from it,
but rather have given yourself up to it as a subject
^ Ruf., 103. ' Vit. Patr., v. 7, 37, = Inst., xi, 25.

LIFE OF THE EGYPTIAN MONKS 157
and a slave. Make up your mind not to dispel its
attacks for the moment by leaving your cell or by
the inactivity of sleep, but rather learn to triuraph
over it by endurance and conflict."
The true remedy for accidie, as St Antony saw,
was work and prayer. Even if the work is useless
in itself, like the woven mats of Paul,! who lived so
far from human habitation that he could not sell
them, yet it vvas necessary for him to labour at
making what in the end he had to burn. Else he
would surely have been conquered by accidie.
Two sins remain — vainglory and pride. The dis
tinction between them Is not very clearly made by
monastic writers, but I have no doubt that a very
real distinction existed in their minds. It is the
desire of vainglory which prompts a man to seek the
praise of others. It is pride which makes him feel
superior to those around him. Thus sometimes the
desire for praise, which is vainglory, may actually
arise from a fundamental distrust of oneself, very
different from pride. On the other hand, an extremity
of pride may safeguard a raan frora all risk of seek
ing praise by any kind of ostentation. He may be
too proud to care at all for the praise or blame of
others. It vvas against vainglory that St. Thomas ci
Kempis warned his readers when he wrote "ama
nesciri." The opposite of pride, on the other hand,
is not obscurity, but huraility. However, therefore,
* Not of course Jerome's Paul the Hermit.

158 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
these two faults may seem to be confused with each
at times, the monastic writers were certainly right
in distinguishing them as they did.
Cassian ! notes about vainglory that it is a more
insidious fault than any of those of which he treated
previously. Other faults weaken after defeat Each
fresh assault they raake is feebler than the last,
Vainglory grows stronger and stronger the oftener
it is resisted, since every fresh victory over it gives
fresh occasion for receiving the praise of men. Vain
glory finds a vantage ground for attack even in a
monk's virtues. His fasts, his prayers, his patience,
even his humility raay be the cause of vainglory to
hira. " 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." ^
To men who were struggling against the insidious
attacks of this sin, anything like boasting seemed
particularly odious. Once* in one of their settle
ments the monks were holding a festival, and were
eating together in the church. One of them refused
to eat with the others, saying to the minister, "I
have never eaten anything cooked." Theodore arose
and said to him, " It were better for you to-day to be
eating flesh in your cell, than that such a speech as
yours should be heard among the brethren."
' Inst., xi, 2. * Ibid., 5. = Ruf., iii. 54.

LIFE OF THE EGYPTIAN MONKS 159
Very like the "ama nesciri" of the Imitation of
Christ is this word of the Abbot Mathoen,! vvhich he
spoke to one of his disciples. " If you dwell long in
any place, do not desire to make a name for yourself
by being singular in any practice. Do not say, I will
not go to the assembly of the brethren or I vvill not
eat this or that, for by such things as these you make
for yourself a name." Sometimes the methods which
the monks adopted for avoidmg the temptation of
vainglory seem to us forced and perhaps affected.
A story is told of a certain Sisois^ that he was
warned to expect a visit from a judge who happened
to be in the neighbourhood of his cell. The monk
clad himself in a linen garment, and taking some
bread and cheese, sat eating it at the door of his cell.
The judge, vvho no doubt expected to see an emaci
ated recluse rapt in spiritual contemplation, was
full of contempt for him. " Is this," he said, " the
anchorite of whom we hear so much?" So despising
him, he departed, and Sisois was saved from the
temptation of vainglory. The Abbot Nestorus* was
one day walking in the desert and met a serpent.
He fled from it One of his disciples was surprised
at his flight, and asked him, "Do you fear it, my
father ? " To whom the old man said, " I fear it not,
my son, yet if I had not fled from the serpent, I
should not have avoided vainglory."
1 Vit. Patr., v, 8, II.
2 Verb. Sen., vii. ii, 8. ^ Ibid., 3.

i6o CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Closely connected vvith the dread of ostentation
was the shrinking which the monks felt from ordina
tion. " A monk ought by all means to fly from
bishops and women " was a proverb ! current in the
desert of Egypt. We read of a certain monk vvho
so far yielded to the desire of praise that he used to
play in his cell at being a priest and celebrating the
Eucharist.^ He was playfully rebuked by one of the
brethren vvho once overheard the performance. He
stood at the door of the cell until it vvas finished and
then knocked. The raonk carae out to him and
asked nervously how long he had been there. "I
only arrived," replied the listener, "while you were
giving the blessing to the catechumens."
Pride is the last and deadliest of all the catalogue
of sins. Each other sin has its own special demon.
The demon of pride is Satan hiraself. God Himself
is the enemy of pride. It is never said that God
resisteth the gluttonous or the covetous, but only that
God resisteth the proud.
The opposite of pride is humility, and this virtue
the fathers are never weary of praising and admiring.
Arsenius, who in the world had been a courtier, vvas
especially noted for his humility. Once,* while he
was seated in conversation with an unlearned peasant
monk, a friend asked him, "Father, how is it that
' Cassian calls it " the old maxim of the fathers that is still current '
in his Inst., xi, l8.
2 Cass,, Inst., x. l6. ^ Vit. Patr., v. 15, 7.

LIFE OF THE EGYPTIAN MONKS i6i
you, vvho know Greek and Latin, are asking this
rustic to explain his thoughts to you ? " Arsenius
replied, "I am indeed learned in Latin and Greek
as the world counts learning, but this peasant's
alphabet I have not yet been able to learn." This
is one of several similar stories told of Arsenius.
Once the devil appeared to a certain brother in
the form of an angel of light.! " j ^^j ^j^g archangel
Gabriel," he said, "and I am sent unto thee." But
the monk answered him, " Surely you were sent to
someone else, for I am altogether unworthy of such
a visitation." Then immediately the devil departed
from him. So this raonk was saved by his humility.
A certain brother^ vvho dwelt in the wilderness
believed that he vvas perfect in virtue. He prayed
to God to show him vvhat perfection he lacked. God,
willing to humble him, bid him go to a certain leader
of monks and do whatever he bid him. This abbot,
being warned beforehand by God, bid him take a
stick and herd some swine. Some men, who had
known him before, saw him feeding the swine, and
said, " Behold, this famous solitary has gone mad.
Some devil possesses him. He is herding swine,"
But God, seeing his humility and how patiently he
bore the insults of these men, permitted him to
return to his own place.
St. Antony* spoke this word about humUity : " I
beheld all the snares which the devil had spread
1 Vit. Patr., Ixviii. ^ Ibid., Ui. " Ibid., iii,
M

i62 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
across the world, and I said with a groan, ' Who is
able to pass safely through them all ? ' Then I
heard a voice vvhich said, ' The hurable man.' "
Another of the fathers said ;! "All labour without
humility is vain. Humility is the forerunner of love.
As John was the forerunner of Jesus, drawing all
to Him, so humility draws all to love, that is, to
God, for God is love." Again, " Humility neither
itself grows angry, nor suffers others to grow angry."
The highest expression of humility is found by
the monks in the virtue of discretion. This is the
most valuable of all virtues. It is, indeed, a kind
of groundwork on which all other virtues are built
up. The words in which our collect^ describes
charity vvould have been applied by the Egyptian
monks to discretion. It is the bond of all virtues,
without which whosoever liveth is counted dead
before God, It raay be described from the one
side as sanctified common sense, and from the other
side as spiritual discernment. It is related of the
Abbot John the Short* that in his youth he came
to a certain brother and said to him, " I wish to
be free from care as the angels are, to do no work,
but to serve God without ceasing." So saying, he
stripped himself of his clothing and departed into
the wilderness. After a week he returned to the
brother's cell and knocked at the door. The brother,
' Verb. Sen., vii., 13, 7.
¦¦' CoU, for Quinquag. ^ Ruf,, 56.

LIFE OF THE EGYPTIAN MONKS 163
before opening it, asked, "Who are you?" and he
replied, " I am John." Then said the brother, " Not
so; John is an angel, and no longer dwells among
men." But he continued knocking, and repeated,
" I am he." For a long time the door remained
closed. At length the brother opened It and said,
"If you are a man, you must work. If you are an
angel, why do you come to my cell ? " But John
repented, and said, " Pardon rae, my father, I have
sinned." The following story, vvhich has the same
viotif coraes from Palestine. A brother! coming
to a monastic settieraent saw the monks labouring.
"Why," said he, "do you labour for the meat that
perisheth? " Then the abbot said, " Put this stranger
into an erapty cell." When the ninth hour came
the stranger came to the door of the cell to see if
anyone vvas coming to call him to dinner. When
no one came, he said to the abbot, " Do not your
monks eat to-day ? " The abbot replied, " Truly
vve have eaten." " Why then," said the stranger,
" did you not call me ? " The abbot replied, " You
are a spiritual man. Surely you have no need of
food. We are only carnal. We labour, and therefore
must eat. You, like Mary, have chosen the good
part You read all day, and do not need material
food." These two stories explain part of what the monks
meant by discretion. It was that kind of common
» Vit. Patr., v. 10, sg.

i64 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
sense vvhich was capable of appreciating the humor
ous side of affectation and exaggeration. It vvas
the virtue which saved the man who possessed it
from making a fool of himself over his religion. I
have already pointed out that St. Antony admired
and practised discretion. The greatest of the fathers
understood and valued it It is closely connected
with humility, for it is only a man vvith over
weening pride vvho can unconsciously do things
that are exceedingly ridiculous.
Discretion, however, had a higher function than
this. It was more than comraon sense. It was
the faculty which the apostle describes! as " the
discernment of spirits." By it the monks were
saved from attempting austerities which would have
ended in the destruction of all true spirituality.
They were able to realise that Satan came to them
sometimes in the form of an angel of light. There
is a story of St Martin of Tours- for vvhich paral
lels can easily be found among the experiences of
the Egyptian fathers. One day Satan came to him
as he vvas seated in his cell. The fiend was sur
rounded with a purple light, clothed in a royal
robe, with a crown of gold and gems encircling his
head, his shoes also being inlaid vvith gold. He
presented a quiet countenance and a joyful aspect,
so that no such thought as that he was the fiend
^ I St. John iv. I.
2 Sulp, Sev., Vit. St. Mart., 24.

LIFE OF THE EGYPTIAN MONKS 165
might be entertained. The saint, dazzled by his
appearance, at first kept silence. This was broken
by the devil, vvho said, " Acknowledge, oh Martin,
who it is that you behold. I am Christ Being
just about to descend upon the earth, I wished
first to manifest myself to you." As St Martin
still kept silence, the devil repeated his audacious
declaration. " Why do you hesitate to believe, when
you see? I am Christ." Then Martin replied as
follows : " I wiU not believe that Christ has come
unless He appears with that appearance and form
in vvhich He suffered, openly displaying the marks
of His wounds upon the cross." On hearing these
words the devil vanished.
Here it is the virtue of discretion vvhich saved
St Martin. So also, the Abbot John of Lycopolis!
once, when utterly exhausted vvith a prolonged fast,
"discreetly" recognised, before it was too late, that
it was the devil and not God vvho vvas leading him
to destroy his bodily health. On the other hand,
Heron,^ through lack of discretion, vvas ultiraately
overcome by the devil, in spite of his many fasts, and
induced to fling himself down a deep well. Two
brethren,* vvho had no discretion, nearly starved
to death by undertaking a journey without pro
viding themselves with food for the way. They
expected that the Lord would provide for them.
Even when He did so in a very wonderful manner
» Cass,, Coll., i. 21. 2 Ibid., ii. 5. == Ibid., ii, 6.

i66 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
only one of the two had sufficient sense to save his
life. The Abbot Moses! j-gports the foUowing speech
of St. Antony, vvhich will show finally the estimation
in which the raonks held this particular virtue. A
sort of congress of leading monks met once on St
Antony's mountain to discuss perfection. Each gave
his opinion. Some made it to consist in zeal for
fastings and vigils. Others thought withdrawal from
the world vvas the essential thing, i.e. solitude and
the secrecy of the hermit's life. Others laid down
the duties of charity. When in this fashion they had
declared that by means of different virtues a more
certain approach to God raight be made, and a great
deal of time had been spent in discussion, at length
St Antony spoke. "All these things are needful
and helpful to those who are thirsting for God and
desirous to approach Him. But countless accidents
and the experience of raany people will not allow us
to raake the most important 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 their goods so completely 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 vvith the utmost devotion, yet still
vve see them suddenly deceived, so that they do not
bring the work they had entered on to a suitable
' Cass,, Coll., ii. 2, Gibson's- translation.

LIFE OF THE EGYPTIAN MONKS 167
close, but brought their exalted fervour and praise
worthy life to a terrible end. Nor can any other
reason for their falHng-off be discovered, except that
as they were not sufficiently instructed by their elders,
they could not obtain judgment and discretion, which,
passing by excess on either side, teaches a monk
always to walk along the royal road, and does not
suffer him to be puffed up, on the right hand, by
virtue, i.e. from excess of zeal to transgress the
bounds of moderation in foolish presumption, nor
allows him to be enamoured of slackness on the
other hand. For this is discretion, vvhich in the
gospel is termed the ^ eye^ and the ^ light of the
body', because it discerns all the thoughts and actions
of men, and sees and overlooks all things which
should be done. For no one can doubt that when
the judgment of our heart goes wrong, and is over
whelmed by the night of ignorance, our thoughts
and deeds must be involved in the darkness of still
greater sins."
To this speech of St. Antpny's it may perhaps be
helpful to add the description of the virtue given by
his disciple St Macarius the Great in a homily on
Patience and Discretion,! where he says that it is
the faculty whereby virtue (good) is distinguished
from evil and the various wiles of the devil, and
specious imaginations are understood in their own
nature. ' c. 13.

i68 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
With these quotations on the last and greatest
of the monastic virtues, the coping-stone of their
ideal temple of righteousness, I close this attempt
to describe their lives and aspirations. The whole
spiritual region in vvhich they lived and moved is
strange to us. Some of their enemies we have
ceased to strive against, or recognise as sins at all.
Dejection vve attribute to a disordered stomach,
accidie to natural temperament. Pride we very
often regard as a virtue. Very few have advanced
far enough in spiritual thought to require discretion.
Nevertheless, a study of how these men thought and
felt and struggled in their hunger after God and
goodness cannot altogether fail of interest for us,
and of such profit, at least, as may come from the
feeling that they, with all their strange ways and
thoughts, were earnest followers of the same Lord we
are seeking to serve.

ST. BASIL AND EASTERN MONASTICISM

But now their naked bodies scorn the cold,
And from their eyes joy looks, and laughs at pain :
The infant wonders how he came so old,
The old raan how he came so young again :
Where all are rich, and yet no gold they owe ;
And all are kings, and yet no subjects know.
All full, and yet no time on food do they bestow, Giles Fletcher.
A spotless child sleeps on the flowering moss —
'Tis well for him ; but when a sinful man,
Envying such slumber, may desire to put
His guilt away, shall he return at once
To rest by lying there ? Our sires knew well
(Spite of the grave discoveries of their sons)
The fitting course for such ; dark cells, dim lamps,
A stone floor one may writhe on like a worm :
No mossy pillow blue with violets, — BROWNING, Paracelsus.
Son of sorrow, doora'd by fate
To a lot most desolate.
To joyless youth and childless age,
Last of thy father's lineage.
Blighted being ! whence hast thou
That lofty mien and cloudless brow ?
Ask'st thou whence that cloudless brow?
Bitter is the cup I trow ;
A cup of weary, well-spent years,
A cup of sorrows, fasts, and tears.
That cup whose virtue can impart
Such calmness to the troubled heart.
Last of his father's lineage, he
Many a night on bended knee,
In hunger many a livelong day.
Hath striven to cast his slough away :
Yea, and that long prayer is granted ;
Yea, his soul is disenchanted.
Thou by the hand of the Most High
Art sealed for immortaUty.
L'esprit de la priere et de la solitude
Qui plane sur les monts, les torrents et les hois,
Dans ce qu'aux yeux mortels la terre a de p'js rude
Appela de tout temps des ames de son choix.
"Venez, enfants du ciel, orphelins de la terre !
II est encore pour vous un asile ici-bas.
Mes tresors sont caches, ma joie est un mystere ;
Le vulgaire I'admire et ne le comprend pas,"
Lamartink.

CHAPTER VI
ST. BASIL AND EASTERN MONASTICISM
WHEN we understand that the ruling motive
of early monasticism vvas a desire to escape
the pollution of the worldly Ufe which was becoming
the normal life of Christians, vve realise that the
centre of interest in monastic history lies in the
development of its attitude towards the Church. In
Egypt there were present in the early monasteries
and lauras all the elements vvhich would naturally
result in a schism or a series of schisms. Actual
strife, however, between the ascetics and the clergy
was averted, and owing chiefly to the peculiar
history of the Egyptian Church, the monks becarae
the most devoted and enthusiastic supporters of the
Alexandrian patriarch. In the East the relations
between the monks and the clergy followed vvhat
we must conceive to have been the more natural
line of development. There are not wanting signs
that the ascetics were distrusted, and, indeed, cor
dially detested by the ordinary members of the
Church. We must not be deceived by the fact that
great Church teachers like St Basil, Theodoret, and
171

172 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Epiphanius were sincere admirers of the monastic
spirit. The rank and file of the Church thought
differently. We get glimpses of the ordinary lay
contempt for the raonks here and there among the
biographies in Theodoret's Historia Religiosa, and in
several of the epistles of St. Basil. Even a judicial
assembly of bishops like that at Gangra cannot alto
gether disguise its prejudice against the monkish
life. No doubt these feelings were, to a large degree,
justified. The spirit of competition! in austerities
vvhich prevailed amongst the raonks, and led to the
most grotesque excesses, must always have seemed
to sensible men, what it seems to most men to-day,
ridiculous and contemptible. It was the spirit of
the Egyptian ascetics and underlay the whole system
of the Pachomian monasteries, but in Egypt it
never produced the results that it did in Syria and
Mesopotamia. We have stories ^ of forms of self-
torture, which are both disgusting and degrading.
They culminate in the extraordinary tales we read
of the great Stylite, St Simeon.* The monkish
historians pit their heroes against each other. What
Moschus* tells us of the austerities of orthodox
monks is balanced by the tales of John of Ephesus
' See Dorri Cuthbert Butler's short but able study of Syrian monas
ticism in his Prolegomena to the Laus. Hist.
^ Hist. Relig., 10, 15, 23, 28 ; Hist. Laus., 108.
' Vita in Rosweyd, pp. 171 and ff.
' See Zockler's interesting description of this competition in Asktse
u. Monchtum, pp. 275 and ff".

EASTERN MONASTICISM 173
about the Monophosytes ; and Thomas of Marga is
not outdone by either when he recounts the per
formances of his Nestorians. The monks competed
against each other individually, and their achieve
ments were boasted of by the adherents of the
various parties into which the later Christological
controversies rent the Church.
Very commonly, as we gather from St. Jerome's
account of Eastern monasticism, this prejudice!
against the monks found expression in an accusa
tion of schismatic tendencies. St Jerome himself
vvas accused of schisra. He earnestly and success
fully rebuts the charge, and declares his loyalty to
orthodox bishops.^ In his case the accusation vvas
entirely unfounded, but it certainly could be made
with considerable justice against many other leaders
of the ascetics. The solitary life of the hermit tends
to develop eccentricities of conduct and a disregard
of custora and law. In Egypt the hermit life
gradually gave way to the organisation of monas
teries and lauras. In the East it continued to be
regarded as the highest and most complete form of
monasticism. Community life vvas frequently re
garded raerely as a period of preparation, through
which the novice passed before he ventured to be
come a hermit. The recognised leader of a band of
' Ep, Ixxxii.
- Against John of Jerus., pp. 42 and ff. (transl. in library of Nicene
and Post-Nicene Fathers), and Ep. Ixxxii.

174 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
monks vvho lived in community was often a hermit,
vvho lived a considerable distance away from his
disciples. They regarded his mode of life as higher
than theirs, and only refrained from entering upon
it because they doubted their own powers of endur
ance. It is only natural, therefore, that in the East
eccentricity should be common among the monks.
But eccentricity in religion is very nearly related to
both heresy and schism. We read, for instance, of
a certain old solitary named Abraham,! a man of
many virtues, and vvith all an old man's wisdom,
vvho was only vvith great difficulty persuaded by
another hermit to conform to the rules of the
Church. Soraetimes whole bodies of monks became
so eccentric in their conduct that we can very easily
understand their being regarded as in reality schis
matics. For instance, the Boskoi,^ or shepherds, a
Mesopotamian group of nine monks, refused to eat
cooked or even cultivated food, lived without cells
or shelter of any kind, wandered about the country
singing psalms and praying. They carried sickles
vvith which to cut the grass vvhich formed their only
food. Another instance of a monasticism vvhich
verged upon schism is afforded by the Remoboth,
whom Jerome describes.* These are the same as
Cassian's Sarabaitae; but whereas they were com
paratively rare in Egypt, in Syria and the East
generally they were very common — " almost the only
^ Hist. Relig., \\\., sub fin. ¦¦* Soz., .ff..£"., vi. 33. « Ep, xxii. 35.

EASTERN MONASTICISM 175
kind of monks," St Jerome says. These Remoboth
submitted to no authority of any kind, either eccle
siastical or monastic They had no fixed dwelling-
places, or settled rules of fasting, or other discipline.
They wandered in small groups about the country,
and made a living by the sale of their work. It is
very easy to realise that such a mode of life exposed
them to frequent temptations. Some of tliem, for
' ' instance, traded upon their reputation for sanctity,
and sold their goods for such prices as enabled them
to become rich. Others, after long periods of severe
repression, broke out into almost unbridled sensual
indulgence. They studied effect in their dress and
demeanour, and earned a cheap reputation for
sanctity by sneering at the lives of the clergy.
Probably actually schismatic, or at all events very
nearly so, were the Valesian s who dwelt on the east
side of the Jordan, and were especially violent and
bitter in their sexual asceticism.
The Audiani! are distinctly a sect separated from
and in opposition to the Church. Their founder,
Audius, was a man renowned throughout Mesopo
tamia for the blamelessness of his life, the sincerity
of his faith, and his zeal for righteousness. Although
only a layman, he rebuked the clergy and even the
bishops for their worldliness, luxury, and love of
money. His attitude gradually became quite in
tolerable, and he was excommunicated. The strict
^ Epiph., Contra Haer., 70.

176 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
integrity of his life and his asceticism had won him
many friends, both among the laity and the clergy,
He found himself the leader of a considerable sect,
and was recognised as their bishop. His sect after
wards lapsed into heresy, but Audius himself found
a fitting close to a life of strenuous effort after
righteousness in martyrdom while engaged in mis
sionary work among the Goths. The Aerians were
a somewhat similar sect, who were connected with
the followers of Eustathius in Armenia; but prob
ably dogmatic differences had as much to do with
their separation from the Church as asceticism.
Southern Asia Minori gave birth to the sect of the
Euchites, or Prayers — called also in Aramaic the
Messalians. They were strictly ascetic in their lives,
but pushed their view of life to the extreme of
regarding matter and God's creation as inherently
and necessarily evil. Theodoret accuses them of
having learnt their doctrines from the Manichjeans,
The history of these sects is obscure and of very
little importance, except in so far as it shows the
general tendency of those vvho accepted the ascetic
ideal of life to spUt off from the Church, and the
readiness of the Church to get rid of such reformers
of morals. I think that Asia Minor and Syria afford
truer types than Egypt of the normal development
of the relationship between the early raonks and the
Church. ' Epiph,, as above, l.xxx, ; Theodoret, H.E., iv. II.

EASTERN MONASTICISM 177
The further history of the relations of the monks
to the Church in the East may best be traced in the
northern part of Asia Minor, where the influence of
St. Basil the Great was most powerful.
Monasticism was introduced into the regions of
Armenia and Cappadocia by Eustathius of Sebaste.!
This remarkable and interesting man was the son of
a Bishop Eulalius.^ He was educated in Egypt, and
was a pupil of the great heresiarch Arius.* It is
difficult to understand his career and his form of
faith. Amid the war of creeds of various shades,
which marks the second part of the struggle against
Arianism) Eustathius appears to have played a very
unworthy part. He signed the creeds of all parties
with an apparent indifference to their contents.* If
he was no pillar of orthodoxy, he was certainly an
unsatisfactory ally from the point of view of a
sincere Arian. It seems probable that he had no
very great interest in the finer shades of dogmatic
questions. His Egyptian education had not filled
him with an uncompromising enthusiasm for any
special form of belief. What he did learn in Egypt
' The article on Eustathius of Sebaste, in the third edition of the
P. R. E., by Loofs, is worthy of careful study.
2 Socr,, H.E., ii. 43, I.
3 St. Basil, Ep. 263,
^ St, Basil (Ep. 224-9) relates that he signed the creeds put forth at
Ancyra (358 a.d.), in which the o/ioioia-iov was accepted ; at Seleucia
(359 A.D.), which supported the creed of Antioch (341) ; at Constanti
nople (360), which was Acacian ; at Lampsacus (364), which was Semi-
arian ; at Nike, in Thrace, which was the creed of Ariminum.

178 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
was a sincere admiration for the ascetic life, and a
desire to spread monasticism in Armenia and Cappa
docia. Perhaps he vvas mentally incapable of follow
ing out the reasonings of the contending parties who
promulgated creeds. Perhaps he was simply in
different, and desired only to be left in peace to
accomplish for monasticism the work on which his
heart vvas set At all events, however inconsistent
his various dogmatic positions may have been, he
seems to have steadily aimed at the advancement of
monasticism all through his life. Imraediately after
his return from Egypt he began to practise and teach
an ascetic way of life. He excited a great deal of
prejudice against hiraself and his ways. St Basil,
for instance, vvas warned against associating with
him.! His father, Eulalius,- the bishop, suspended
him from some office to which he had been ordained.
The reason given is that he dressed in an unsuitable
manner. This is surely an insufficient reason for so
strong a step as suspension, unless vve suppose * that
his dress vvas simply the outward sign of something
else. In reality he was in all probability suspended
for dressing as an ascetic, the open profession of
asceticism as a special way of life being regarded as
tantamount to schism, and being, moreover, e.xtremely
irritating to a clergy who were inclined to easier
kinds of Christian life.
' St. Basil, Ep. 223. ^ Socr., HE., ii, 43, I.
¦" The supposition is born out by Socrates' account of his conduct
after the Council of Gangra {H.E., ii. 43, i).

EASTERN MONASTICISM 179
We next hear of Eustathius and his asceticism as
the subject of discussion at a CouncU held at Gangra
in the year 340.! At this tirae Eustathius had ap
parently many disciples, and they, if not he himself,
had adopted practices which were subversive of
all Church discipline and dangerous to common
morality. The CouncU accordingly formulated a
series of canons, in which the errors of the Eusta-
thians were exposed and anathematised. It is both
Interesting and instructive to notice what these errors
were. The Eustathians preached against marriage.^
They induced married women to leave their hus
bands,* enter upon a kind of monastic life, cut
their hair short, and adopt raale attire.* They were
especially prejudiced against married priests, whose
ministrations they refused to accept.* They set up
private conventicles, and forsook the churches* which
were served by married clergy. They taught young
people to forsake and despise their parents.'^ They
condemned the exercise of Christian hospitality.*
They ventured to alter the established seasons of fast
ing,® and even fasted upon the Lord's day.!" ^jj thgse
are notes of a distinctly anti-ecclesiastical asceticism.
How far Eustathius!! himself was implicated in these
^ For date given see Beveridge: "Habita est. . . . Antiochena
A.D. 341. Ergo paulo ante illud tempus praesentem etiam synodum
celebratum fuisse non immerito suspicamur.
' Gangra, Can, i, * Can, xiv. * Ibid., xvii,
' Ibid., iv. ' Cans. v. and vi. ' Can. xvi.
8 Lbid., xi. ' Ibid, xix. " Ibid., xviii.
^ See passage referred to above in Socr, , H. E.

i8o CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
erroneous practices we do not know. To a large
extent they were probably unauthorised exaggera
tions of his teaching made by a fanatical section of
his disciples. It is noticeable that Eustathius him
self was not anathematised by the Council. Fifteen
or sixteen years afterwards we find him Bishop of
Sebaste, so vve may conclude either that he had
never himself approved of the extravagances of his
disciples, or that he had subraitted to the decrees of
the Council. On the general question of the ascetic
life the bishops ! speak vvith no very clear or definite
voice. They hesitate between recognising asceticism
as a higher forra of Christian life and regarding it as
an araiable eccentricity, permissible, but requiring
careful watching and regulation.
If the Constitutiones Asceticae, usually bound up
with the writings of St Basil, are, as has been sur
mised, the work of Eustathius of Sebaste,^ we are in
a position to form a fair estimate of vvhat his ascetic
teaching was. He vvas wanting in syrapathy, narrow
in his conception of the Christian life, uncharitable
and bitter in his estimate of ways which diverged
from his own. In a word, his spirit was Puritan rather
than Catholic. At the same time, he was sincere, un
selfish, and zealous for righteousness.
It was no doubt because of his sincerity and self-
denial that he became the friend of St Basil the
' Gangra, Can, xxi.
- Gamier in Pref. to Bened. edition ; sO also Zockler.

EASTERN MONASTICISM

i8i

Great We know that after leaving the University
of Athens, St Basil travelled in Syria and Egypt,!
and became acquainted with the manner of life of
the monks. He learnt to regard the fascination of
expiring Paganism, which captivated the soul of
Juliu,!., C.Z a ".^yren vnicf"^ and t- regard ^-^^
" crucifixions " of the monks as a diviner way thau
that of Hermes and Aphrodite. It is impossible to
describe the condition of St. Basil's mind at this
period better than in his own words:* "I admired the
continence of the monks in Uving and their en
durance in toil. I was amazed at their persistency
in prayer, and at their triumphing over sleep ; sub
dued by no natural necessity, ever keeping their
soul's purpose high and free, in hunger, in thirst, in
cold, in nakedness, they never yielded to the body ;
they were never willing to waste attention on it ;
always, as though living in a flesh that was not
theirs, they showed in very deed what it is to sojourn
for a while in this life and what to have one's
citizenship and home in heaven. All this moved
my admiration, I called these men's lives blessed,
in that they did indeed show that they 'bear about
in their body the dying of Jesus.' And I prayed
that I, too, so far as in me lay, might imitate them."
With such an ideal before him, St, Basil returned
^ Epp. I and 223. ^ Ep. i.
' Read the whole of Ep. 223, in order to appreciate St. Basil's
feelings.

1 82 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
to Cappadocia. He found that Eustathius and his
disciples were already living the wonderful life which
he had learnt to admire. He sought the friendship
of Eustathius. Many of his friends tried to draw
him away from so dange'ou'^ ". t:?"!-— ¦"''. 'i^LL
'.,. ..^cim.J ^ yi^y uudL so onlliant a young man as St
Basil should have his life spoiled by the fanatical
ways of the monks. But St. Basil remained firm.
He became an eager supporter of the Eustathlan
ascetics, " because of the extraordinary exceUence of
their lives."! j^jg friendship with Eustathius himself
was very close. They spent days and nights together
conversing on spiritual things in St. BasU's retreat at
Pontus.^ Eustathius was introduced into St Basil's
family circle.* They took journeys together to visit
famous bishops.* The friendship lasted for twenty-
five years, during which St. Basil professed himself
satisfied vvith his friend's orthodoxy and steadily
defended him against attacks. Then there came a
sudden breach. Into the cause and the rights of the
quarrel it is not necessary to enter. We have no
opportunity of seeing the matter from the standpoint
of Eustathius, and it is impossible to form a fair
judgment. The effect of it was to turn all St Basil's
affection into bitterness. He is no longer able to see
any good at all in Eustathius. What seemed to be
religion he now recognises to be only hypocrisy.^
» Ep. 223. 2 /iij^ 3 7^^^ i jj^-^^
" St. Basil, Epp, 144 and 163.

EASTERN MONASTICISM 183
Modern historians have universally accepted St.
Basil's final estimate of the character of Eustathius
as the just one. Yet I think vve may well pause
before doing so. Is it not quite in accordance with
the character of St. Basil to conclude that because his
friend deceived him once, or seemed to deceive him,
that therefore his friend's whole life must have been
a lie? Is it likely that St Basil could have been
deceived for twenty-five years about the character of
a man with whom he was very intimate ? "I am
convinced from the whole character of Eustathius that
he cannot be lightly turning from one direction to
another ; that a man shunning a Ue even in any little
matter as an awful sin is not likely to run counter to
the tmth."! This Is St BasU's earlier judgment!
based upon his personal knowledge of his friend's
character. Is it not on the whole likely to be nearer
the truth than the later one expressed in the heated
invective of theological strife ?
It is with a dishonoured name that Eustathius
passes down the pages of history. His work is for
gotten. His writings are lost or given to St. Basil,
It is not he but St Basil who is recognised as the
great patriarch of Greek monasticism. Yet there is
no doubt that Eustathius exercised a great influence
over St. Basil. A number of ascetic writings have
been attributed to St Basil, some of which are
' Ep. 99, written in the year 37?.

i84 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
certainly not his and others perhaps not entirely his.
If Eustathius, as seems likely, vvas the author of
some of these works, then his teaching must have
very early been confused with that of St Basil, The
famous hospitium at Csesarea, where monks ministered
to the wants of the Indigent and sick, was an imita
tion of an earlier institution founded by Eustathius
at Sebaste.
St. Basil vvas, however, a far greater raan than
Eustathius. He grasped the problem! with which
the early enthusiasm of the monks confronted the
Church, and accomplished the task of finding a
place for monasticism within the circle of the
Church's organisation. The Church in Asia Minor
in St. Basil's time was in danger of losing all
purely spiritual enthusiasm, and of becoming a
mere political organisation, or at best a home for
sober and settled morality and piety. St. Basil
saved her from fencing off for herself a paddock
of religion inspired by nothing more lofty than
common sense. He taught her that Christianity,
if it is to be true to the ideas of the apostolic
Church, must be a religion of enthusiasm and of
far-reaching self-denial. The monks, on the other
hand, were in danger of rushing into unbridled
extravagances. He saved them from becoraing a
¦¦ Dr. A. Kranisch has made a very able study of St, Basil's ascetic
teaching in his Die Ascetik in ihrer dogmatischen Crundlage bei
Basilius dem Grossen,

EASTERN MONASTICISM 185
conglomerate of sects, at war with each other, and
unanimously contemptuous of the Church.
It seems that St. Basil's work ought to have a
very real interest for us. The problem of our
English Christianity has been for three centuries
very nearly the sarae as that of the Cappadocian
Church in the fourth century. Our Church, too,
has been confronted with unregulated enthusiasras
which could not and would not be satisfied with the
common expression of a nation's Christianity. The
English Church has been signally successful in
fostering the quiet piety of home and faraily, in
blending what is sweet and beautiful in common
life with peaceful reverence for Christ. As a
national Church she has failed to produce great
warrior saints. She has shrunk back timidly from
enthusiastic men who threatened to break away
frora the bounds of sobriety, and has stood fas
tidiously aloof from the eccentricities which are
almost inevitably associated with religious genius.
Thus tirae after time she has suffered earnest men
to spend their energies outside her communion.
She lost the Quakers in the seventeenth century,
the Methodists in the eighteenth, the Plymouth
Brethren and Salvation Army in the nineteenth
century. These should all have been, not sects
outside, but orders within the Church. The fault
has been ours and theirs. Ours because we dis
trusted enthusiasm and dreaded new ways. Theirs

i86 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
because they suffeted themselves to become con
temptuous and bitter. It is the misfortune of the
whole nation that we have never had a Basil.
It is, therefore, with something more than merely
academic interest that we approach the subject of
St Basil's work for monasticism, and how he per
forraed it
In the first place, it is misleading to speak of St
BasU as the author of a monastic rule. St Basil
did not corapose a rule in the sense in which St,
Benedict did. His ascetic writings are treatises, ser
mons, catechisms, but not rules. The Regula Fusius
Tractatae and the Regula Brevius Tractatae, which,
of all his writings, bear the closest resemblance to
rules, are really devotional catechisms. They are
applicable chiefly to those who have embraced the
monastic life, but are also useful in part to those
who, under any circumstances, are trying to be
followers of Christ. The form in which these two
works are cast itself forbids their being considered
as, strictly speaking, rules. They are catechisms,
series of questions and answers, and not definite
laws. There is a spirit running through them diffi
cult to express, but easily felt by a sympathetic
reader, which differentiates them from a regular
rule like the Benedictine, If no monastery any
longer existed, it would be possible, with the rule
of St, Benedict as a guide,' to reconstruct a society
like that of Monte Cassino. It would be impos-

EASTERN MONASTICISM 187
sible from the writings of St. Basil to create a
working organisation where none existed. On the
other hand, granted a Christian society of any kind,
a sincere effort to appreciate the meaning of St
Basil's ascetic teaching would result certainly in a
greatly deepened spirituality, and a sympathy with
the ascetic ideal In whatever form it might express
itself. St. Benedict is a legislator. St. Basil a
spiritual director. St Benedict aims at the crea
tion of a home, a perfectly suitable environment,
for the Christian life. St Basil strives rather to
awaken desire for the evangelic perfection, and to
point out the dangers vvhich await the traveller
along the narrow way.
There is, therefore, what at first sight strikes us
as a certain vagueness and indefiniteness about even
St. Basil's Regula Fusius and Regula Brevius Trac
tatae. For instance, the thirteenth question of the
Reg. Fus. Tract, deals with the discipline of silence.
Here is a practice suitable, indeed possible, only for
those who live monastic lives. Shortly! afterwards,
in the same treatise, we have a question and answer
dealing with the virtue of temperance.^ St Basil
explains temperance to consist not merely of fasting,
watching, and chastity. It includes labour, a limita
tion of the freedom of the tongue, setting bounds to
the ranging of the eyes, and controlling the hearing
of the ears. This complete self-conquest is certainly
' Interrog. xvi. - t6 lyKpareveaBM.

i88 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
more easily practised, is more possible, for the monk,
but it is not the less an ideal to be striven for by
Christians in the world. Again, another question!
and ansvver treat of the spirit which ought to animate
work. Here his teaching is as completely applicable
to the Christian merchant in a great city as to the
monk who ploughs a lonely field. Thus all through
these two catechisms vve have sometimes advice
which is applicable only to a monk in his cloister,
sometimes a discussion of a virtue attainable best
in a monastery, but to be aimed at by all, and some
tiraes the setting forth of a necessary fundamental
principle of all Christian life. And this, which is
true even of these two works, vvhich resemble most
nearly a regular monastic rule, is much more obvious
in St BasU's other ascetic writings. He refuses to
draw a hard-and-fast line between monks and other
Christians. He teaches that all Christian life must
be ascetic. There is a question of the degree of its
asceticism between the life of a monk and that of
a married man. There is no question that both lives
are lived on the same principle. "God," he says,^
" has permitted men to live in one of two ways, either
as married or as monks. But It must not be sup
posed that those who are married are therefore free
to erabrace the world. The evangelic renunciation
is their ideal, too, for the Lord's words were spoken

^ Interrog. xlii.
^ De renun, Saecl., i. and ii.

EASTERN MONASTICISM 189
to those who were in the world as well as to the
apostles. 'What I say unto you I say unto all.'"
It seems, then, that one great aim of St. Basil's
ascetic teaching was to connect the monastic life
with that of ordinary Christians, and to place both
alike beside the great standard of the evangelic
teaching. He spoke to those raembers of the
Church who viewed monasticism and its enthusiasm
with dislike and distrust He showed them that in
the deadening of all enthusiasra, in the easy accept
ance of the world's standard of life, there lurks a
danger as real as the danger of monkish fanaticism.
He spoke to the monks, showing them that their
way vvas no new kind of Christian life, no special
and exclusive expression of the gospel spirit, but
only a faithful following out of common principles.
"This," he says, "is the goal of Christianity, the
imitation of Christ in the measure of His humanity
as far as the vocation of each man permits."!
Another great note of St Basil's ascetic writings
is the connection which he establishes between the
asceticism, culminating in monasticism, of the Chris
tian life and the great truths of the Christian creed.
Monks, up to the time of St Basil, had lived in
stinctively great lives, and had held unquestioningly
the fundamental doctrines of the creed. St BasU
reasons out a connection between the two. Starting
from the belief in God as man's creator,- he shows
• Reg. Fus. Tract., xliii. - Hexaem., i. 2.

190 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
that the renunciation of the monk is really an act
of self-dedication to Hira to whom already man
belongs. " I do nothing," he says,! <c ^hgn j gj^g
myself to Thee. I give Thee only vvhat is thine."
Starting from the belief in the ultimate judgment^
of the world, he writes,* "Discipline all the lusts of
the flesh, and keep the thought of God ever built
up in your soul, as in a very holy temple. In every
deed and word hold before your eyes the judgment
of Christ, so that every individual action may bring
you glory in that day of retribution." He speaks
of the Christian life as an ascetic warfare, a continual
military service against the world and the flesh.*
It is laid upon humanity as a direct consequence
of the fall. Thus asceticism is brought into intimate
connection with the doctrines of redemption ^nd
of grace...
This, it seems to me, is the raost iraportant work
which St. Basil accomplished for monasticism. He
wrought its ideal into the fabric of the Church's
dogmatic thought. He showed it to be the ideal
life of a religion vvhich taught as Christianity teaches
about God and judgment, grace and fall, sin and
redemption. From his time until the Protestant
Reformation monasticism occupied the position in
which St Basil placed it His work never needed
^ In Psalm cxv'. £.
"^ Procemiu/n and De Judicio. ^ Ep. 146.
* E.g. in De renun. Saecl. , ii.

EASTERN MONASTICISM 191
to be done again. Other minds occupied themselves
with the best means of leading the ascetic life, vvith
the limits and possibUities of renunciation. Rules
were composed, reformed, improved ; but, until the
sixteenth century, men on every side were agreed
that monasticism was an integral part of the Church's
life, the highest expression of the Christian spirit.
Unless a man denied the doctrine of the fall, and
the double need for God's grace and human co^
operation in elevating man from his state of sin,
it did not seem possible to conceive of the monastic
life as a mighty error, or even a dangerous eccen
tricity. Thus St. Basil met the problem which faced the
Cappadocian Church in his day. He taught the
monks to venerate the Church as the guardian of
those truths which gave its meaning and purpose
to their life. He taught the Church to honour the
monks as men vvho followed to its practical issues
the teaching of the creed.
Of less importance, and yet not altogether to be
neglected, are the suggestions which St Basil makes
for the guidance of those who have embraced the
monastic life. Their general tendency is in the,
direction of subordinating the individual to the '
community. For instance, he decidedly prefers
the coenobitic to the hermit life. The fact of this
preference is itself sufficiently remarkable in the
East, although in this St. Basil breaks no new

192 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
ground, but follows the example of St. Pachomius.
Very much more remarkable are the grounds on
vvhich he bases his preference. "In the solitary
life," he says,! "the gifts vve have from God are
useless, and the gifts we lack cannot be supplied,
There are duties which cannot be perforraed by the
solitary hermit ; for example, the visitation of the
sick, and generally all the works of charity. How
can we be all members of one body, as we are called,
unless vve are united and joined to one another?
How, if we are all separated one from another, can
vve render due obedience to Him vvho is the head of
the body, even Christ? How can vve rejoice with
him vvho rejoices, and weep with him vvho is in
trouble, when no man knows the condition of his
neighbour ? The Lord Himself, out of the greatness
of His benignity, did not rest content with the words
of precepts, but expressly gave us an example of
humility, for He girded Himself and washed His
disciples' feet Whose feet will you wash? To
whom vvill you be a servant ? Corapared with whom
will you be last of all if you remain a solitary?"
These arguments are exceedingly important, not only
as establishing the superiority of the coenobitic life
over the solitary, but as a reassertion, in the face of
ithe individualistic tendency of early monasticism,
of the great principle of the community of Chris
tians with each other. In other words, they assert
' Reg. Fus. Ti'act.,\u. Cf, Reg. Brev. Tract., 74.

EASTERN MONASTICISM 193
the necessity for a Church. Necessarily in due time
the principle vvhich St Basil here enunciates was
pushed to its conclusion, and the monks came to^
think of themselves as having not only a duty of'
mutual help, but a communion also vvith the great
Church outside the monastery ; a duty to perform to'
her, gifts and graces to receive from her. This ideal
was present to St Basil's own mind when he wrote,
"Those to whom there has been much entrusted
ought to move those who are weaker to the imita
tion of their lives, as the apostle, the blessed Paul,
says, ' Be ye imitators of me as I am also of Christ.' "
In connection with his preference for the coenobitic
life must be placed St. BasU's insistence on a life of
labour for the monks,! From the days of St Antony
the monks had been taught to work, but they worked
mainly as a remedy against accidie and sloth.
St Basil taught that labour should be in itself
useful, and directed to some practical purpose.
His monks are to be useful . citizens, playing their
part in the economy of, the State.
The spirit" in vvhich he treats fasting is similar.
Great fasts are not to be undertaken in a spirit of
bravado. The practice is to be kept within such
limits as will not injure the bodily health or spiritual
activity. Of the relation of monks to bishops and the
1 Ep. ii. ; Reg. Fus. Tract., 37.
2 Reg. Fus. Tract., 18-20; Reg. Brev. Tract., 128-33.

194 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Church clergy in general, St Basil says nothing
directly. He wished, however, to have monasteries
placed near cities, partly, no doubt, that the monks
might find greater opportunities of influence, but
chiefly in order that they might come well within the
sphere of episcopal influence.
St, Basil's teaching and ideals affected Eastern
monasticism only very graduaUy. At first the
Basilian conception of the life was confined to
Cappadocia and the neighbouring regions. Sozo
men! notes that the Cappadocian monks differed
from those of Palestine and Syria in their prefer
ence for monasteries in the neighbourhood of
cities. He explains that this was owing to the
severity of their climate. In reality it was the result
of St. Basil's teaching, which had not as yet pene
trated beyond the district of his diocese.
The general acceptance of his ideal of monasticism
throughout the Greek Church was partly the result
of a recognition of its superiority, which led monks
to adopt it voluntarily. Partly it was the conse
quence of direct ecclesiastical and civil legislation.
In the sixth century we read^ of three men,
Euthymius, Sabbas, and Theodosius, who may be
1 H.E., vi. 34.
''¦ Some of what remains of this chapter is based on the opening
sections of Ph. Meyer's Geschichte der Athoskloster. I have not had
opportunity of studying all the authorities he quotes, but I am the more
content to follow him, as I observe that his work has been used in the
same way by so painstaking and careful a writer as Zockler {Askese u.
Mdnchtum, pp. 292 and ff.).

EASTERN MONASTICISM 195
regarded as missionaries of Basilian monasticism
araong the anchorites of Palestine and Syria.
Hitherto, outside of Cappadocia, the herrait life
had continued to be not only the highest, but alraost
the only type of monastic life. Theodosius aimed
at the formation of regular monasteries, Euthymius
and his disciple Sabbas at gathering the herraits into
sorae kind of lauras. Sabbas, indeed, conceived of
coramunities for those who were well advanced in the
ascetic life, but he still retained the idea that the
highest and raost perfect Ufe was that of the anchorite
or Kelliote. Thus he is represented by his biographer
as saying to Theodosius, "You, father, are a leader
of boys, but I am a leader of leaders, for each of
those vvith me, being independent, is master of his
own cell."
The Basilian ideal of monasticism became really
influential throughout the East after a process of
legislation. Four canons of the Council of Chalcedon
are directed against irregular and independent forms
of monasticism. It is ordered (Canon 4) that no
monastery should be anywhere built or founded
without the consent of the bishop of the city ; that
the monks in each monastery should be subject to
the bishop ; that they embrace a life of tranquillity,
neither troubling nor meddling with ecclesiastical or
secular affairs. In Canon 8 the tradition of the
holy fathers, by whom I understand St BasU
especially to be meant, is referred to in support of

196 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
the direction that the clergy of almshouses and
monasteries are to be subject to the power of the
bishops. These clergy were evidently ordained
monks. Canon 23 is directed against monks, either
lay or clerical, who set at naught the authority of
their bishops, and "excite comraotions," especially
in Constantinople. Canon 24 airas at preserving
for their original religious purposes the buildings of
monastic comraunities.
Other councils, such, for instance, as Agde and the
TruUian CouncU, legislated in the same spirit, com
pleting a series of enactments vvhich tended to limit
the freedom of the monks and place them more and
more in a position of dependence on the bishops.
The same thing was undertaken by the civU power
in the Justinian Code. It may even be said that
Justinian shared with St. Basil the honour of having
given shape to Greek monasticism. St Basil con
ceived the idea of a comrnunity life in close con
nection with, and subordination to, the Church.
Justinian's legislation realised the idea and led to its
being generally practised in the Church. The legis
lation of the Justinian Code follows closely the
canons of Chalcedon in subordinating the monks to
the bishops. No monastery is to be founded unless
the bishop of the diocese in which it is to be built
has given his consent and formally taken it under his
protection by the ceremony of Stauropegia.! The
1 Nov., V. 3.

EASTERN MONASTICISM 197
community life is estabUshed as the only recognised
form of monasticism. Each monastery is to consist
of a sufficient number of buUdings to accommodate
all the monks. They are to sleep and eat within the
walls of the monastery. Only the aged and the
sick are to be allowed to dwell apart from the com
munity. Where there are monks vvho have a voca
tion for the solitary life (Hesychastae) they are to
have their own cells within the monastery, and live
in solitude in the midst of their brethren.! -j-jig
number of such solitaries is to be strictly limited.^
Abbots and priors are to be elected either by the
whole body of the monks or by some of the
worthiest* The bishops are to have a voice in such
elections. The services of the Church are to be
performed by some of the older monks who have
been ordained.* On entering a monastery a monk
resigns to the community all his property except in
cases where wife or children are left behind in the
world. They have a claim upon a share of the re-
nunciant's property.* Once a monk is received into
a monastery, he is forbidden to return to secular
life.* The enactments of the Justinian Code form a
legislative expression of the BasUian idea of monasti
cism. The monks were given a recognised position
within or rather beside the Church. It was not
' Nov., cxxiii. 36. - Ibid., cxxxiii, ' Ibid., cxxiii, 34.
^ Ibid., cxxxiu, 2, ^ Ibid., v. 5. ^ Ibid., cxxiii, 32.

198 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
practically different from the position of the Westem
monks. It was, however, forced upon the monks
from outside by the power of Church and State
working together. Thus while Greek monasticism
vvas made to conform to the model suggested by the
teaching of St. Basil, it was deprived of the oppor
tunity for free and spontaneous development.
At the end of the eighth century, for the first
time, Greek monasticism produced for itself a rule
which resembles the Western rules, and which had
a history comparable to that of the rule of St
Benedict The Studite monastery in Constantinople
occupied during the eighth century a leading posi
tion in the East. The Empress Irene appointed
Theodore to be its abbot. He set himself to realise,
down to the minutest details, the conception of a
coraraunity life. The organisation vvhich he imposed
upon his monks was more complete and detailed
even than the Benedictine. In his '¦' Testament " he
left a raonastic rule which was copied and reproduced
everywhere in the Greek Church. It forras the basis
of the rule vvhich Athanasius wrote for the monks
of Athos. It was introduced by various Eastern
bishops into their dioceses. It became the normal
rule of Russian monasticism after its introduction by
Theodosius into the monastery of Kiew.
If we compare Greek monasticism with that of
the West, its history is curiously uninteresting. Three
great names stand out before us — those of a bishop,

EASTERN MONASTICISM 199
St Basil ; an emperor, Justinian ; and a monk,
Theodore the Studite. St Basil conceived an ideal :
Justinian enforced it from without, Theodore en-,
deavoured to realise it from within. Of these three, '
St Basil alone was influential in the development of .
Western mcnast-.u.-.m. llr --cupies, in reality, the •
same place in the history of Latin a:: in tn?.i: of
Greek monasticism. His thought and his ideal lay
at the root of both developments. In the West it ;
was worked out into a system by St. Benedict, in the ;
East by Theodore the Studite. So far the histories
of Latin and Greek monasticism seem parallel. In
reality there is a difference vvhich profoundly affected
the ultimate results of the two developments. In the
West monasticism yvorked out its own destiny freely.
In the East between St Basil and Theodore came
Justinian. The strong hand of the imperial legis
lator cmshed the vitality of Greek monasticism, even
while forcing it into a shape like that which Latin
monasticism spontaneously assuraed. It is to this
fact that we must trace the comparative barrenness
of Greek monasticism.

THE DEVELOPMENT OF
WESTERN MONASTICISM
UP TO THE TIME OF ST. BENEDICT

Felices nemorum pangimus incolas,
Certo consilio quos Deus abdidit
Ne contagio secli
Mores laederet integros
Ut te possideant, quem sitiunt Deum,
Urbes, regna, suos, se quoque deserunt.
Totus viluit orbis,
Dum coelestia cogitant.
Nudi, prompti, alacres, liberi ab omnibus.
Ad luctam pugiles ocius advolant ;
Ut vastum mare tranent
Prudentes onus exeunt.
Aeternas ut opes, certaque grandia
Securi rapiant, omnia ludicra
Sano pectore temerunt,
Confisi melioribus.
IlHs summa fuit gloria, despici ;
Illis divitiae, pauperiem pati ;
Illis summa voluptas
Longo supplicio mori. Faris Breviary.
Bene seipsum perdit, qui nihilunquam pro se facit : sed omnis ejus
intentio et omne desideriura tendit ad Dei placitum.
St. Bernard, Serm. in Nat. St. Benedicti Abb.

CHAPTER VII
THE DEVELOPMENT OF
WESTERN MONASTICISM
UP TO THE TIME OF ST. BENEDICT
NEITHER in Egypt nor in the East did monas
ticism ever become of very great historical
importance. In Egypt the flight of the monks into
the desert was an incident in history and nothing
more. The life in the Nitria or the Thebaid was
very beautiful, is still very interesting, but so far
as the history of Egypt is concerned, it was un
important. So far as we can see, Egypt to-da)^
would be just what it is if St. Antony and his
disciples had inhabited the forests of Germany or
the plains of Russia. Greek monastitism has hardly
been of greater importance for the making of the
modern Church or the advancement of modem
civilisation. It may well be doubted whether the
course of history would have been materially differ
ent if no ascetic penitents had settled in Athos or
Sinai. Neither Egyptian nor Greek monasticism
has been a factor in the making of history, save in
so far as they gave the pattern and impulse of their
203

204 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
life to the monks of the West. Here, however, in
Italy, Spain, Gaul, Germany, and the British Isles,
the whole history of the Church has been made by
monks, and the development of civilisation pro
foundly affected by them.
What vve call the Middle Ages form the period of
modern Europe's childhood. Titanic ideas struggled
for realisation. Slowly out of their strifes the
modern world carae to its growth. Monasticism
dorainated the Middle Ages. The ideal life was
raonastic The conception of religion had a mo
nastic character. The very form of the churches
reflected the monastic spirit in stone and mortar.
All that made for progress up to the dawn of the
Renaissance carae from the monasteries. Learning
survived only within their walls. Education was
possible only in their schools. Agriculture was the
art of the monks. They cleared the fore^fs7ploughea~~
fields, made barren wastes into fruitful farms. Mon
asteries were the refuge of the oppressed. In a
world where mere force reigned otherwise undisputed,
the voices of justice and right might still be heard
within their walls. They were the only homes for
the studious and the gentle. The abbots mediated
in the interests of humanity between warring poten
tates. They proclaimed here and there a truce of
God, which gave men time to breathe and look
around. The monks fed the hungry and tended
the sick. They gave back, again and again, the

WESTERN MONASTICISM 205
vital spark of spiritual religion to a Church that from
pope to serf had sunk into formalism and vice.
Civilisation was born frora the worab of monas
ticism, and sucked milk from its breasts. Whence,
then, came the Western monks? What were their
ideals? What was their plan of life? How came
it that they were so richly fruitful in good ?
In 339 St Athanasius came to Italy, bringing with
him Ammonlus, a Nitrian monk. There were monks
in Italy before he came, and even associations for
ascetic living resembling monasteries,! but his visit
gave the first great impulse to monastic Ufe in the
West From about the year 350 onwards numerous
monasteries and nunneries were founded in Rome,
Northern and Southem Italy, in Gaul, and on
islands in the westem Mediterranean.
The notices of these early foundations are difficult
to disentangle from the mass of miscellaneous litera
ture in which they are embedded, and sometimes it
is hard to distinguish between accidental associations
of religious men or women and what may properly
be called monasteries. The list which I subjoin
may, however, serve to give some idea of the rapid
spread and vitality of the movement.
I, Rome.— rPammachius,^ the friend of St Jerome,
was the head of a monastery. Marcella* and Lea*
* See Die Entwicklung des alten Monchtums in Italien, by P. Ernest
Spreitzenhofer, O.S.B.
^ St. Jer., Epp. 66 and 77.
= Ibid., 127. * Ibid., 23.

2o6 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
ruled nunneries. St Ambrose's sister! ^-^j ^^
inraate of a Roman nunnery. St. Augustine^ men
tions with admiration the number and piety of the
Roman raonks and nuns. A series of popes from
Damasus* to Leo the Great either legislated for or
founded monasteries.
2. Northern Italy. — Eusebius of Vercellae founded
a monastery for his clergy shortly after he was
consecrated bishop in 355.* There was an ascetic
society, of vvhich Rufinus vvas a member, in Aquileia
before 360.^ St. Martin of Tours ^ founded a monas
tery in MUan. Whether it survived or not we do
not know, but during the episcopate of St. Ambrose
there were two monasteries' and a nunnery' in
that city.
3. Southern Italy. — Paulinus of Nola® founded a
monastery especially intended for his clergy. He
died in 431. Bishop Severus founded another at
Naples.!" p^ monastery governed by Abbot Urseius!!
existed at Pinetum in the year 400.
' St. Amb., De Virgin, iii. i, I.
» De Mor. Eccl. Cath., i. 70.
^ Damasus, Siricius and Innocent I, Sixtus III. founded a monas
tery in the catacombs (see Spr., as above, pp, 10, II, 12).
¦• St. Ambrose, Ep. 73 (to the Church at Vercellae), par, 71.
' Vita Rufini'm Migne, F. L., 21, p. 80.
^ Vita, by Sulpiclus Severus, c. vi.
' Aug., Conf, viii. 15 ; and De Mor. Eccl. Cath., i. 70.
' St. Ambr., De Virgin., i, 57.
* St. Jer., Ep. 58 {ad Faulimi7ii) ; see also Spr., as above, p. 21.
'" UgheUi, Italia Sacra, vi.
'' See Pref. to Ruf transl. of St. Basil's rules.

WESTERN MONASTICISM 207
4. Gaul. — St. Martin of Tours! founded his famous
monastery about the year 360. Cassian^ regulated
the lives of the monks in Massilia early in the fifth
century. 5. Islands. — There were monasteries on the islands
in the Mediterranean sea, off the coast of Dalmatia,
in 406.* Honoratus founded the famous society of
Lerins early in the fifth century.*
This list, though not complete, is sufficient to show
that though the impulse to monasticism came from
the East, the institution flourished greatly in the West
Moreover, from the very first it took In the West a
distinctive character, and developed quite independ
ently of Egypt or the East When we examine in
detail such information as we possess about the
early Western foundations, we are struck at once
with certain peculiar features.
In the East monasticism began and developed
in almost entire independence of the clergy and
bishops. It had, indeed, great episcopal patrons
like St Athanasius and St. Basil, but it was no
where originated by the bishops. St. Athanasius, so
far as vve know, founded no monastery; and if
St Basil organised the Cappadocian raonks, his
work was not that of a founder so much as a re
former. The monks existed in the East and in
1 Vita, by Sulpiclus Severus, c. x.
^ Pref. to Inst, of Cassian.
- St. Jer., Ep. 118. * He died in 429.

2o8 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Egypt before St. Basil or St. Athanasius recognised
or helped them. In the West it seems at first to
have been chiefly the bishops who founded monas
teries. Eusebius of Vercellae, St Martin of Tours,
St Ambrose of Milan, Paulinus of Nola, Severus
of Naples, St Augustine, and Sixtus III.! ^gj.g ^u
bishops, as well as founders of communities. St
Jerome and Rufinus were both great ecclesiastics,
as well as great monks, and played an important
part in the Church life of their time. So it happened
that very early Western monasticism assumed a form
which, if it existed at all, was very rare in Egypt or
the East. Clergy and bishops lived together, regulat
ing their lives along the lines of monastic discipline.
Such clerical communities were founded, for instance,
by Eusebius at Vercellae, Paulinus at Nola, and
Augustine at Hippo.^ This combination of priestly
work vvith ascetic discipline may be regarded as a
natural outcome of the practical bent of the Western
mind ; but it is certainly an evidence of the favour
able attitude of the bishops towards monasticism.
Thus, whereas in the East monks and bishops were
distrustful of each other, and schism at times seemed
imrainent, in the West bishops and monks were from
the first in cordial agreement
I see in this fact one of the conditions which
' See previous notes.
- The Church at Rhinocorura is the only example I know of a similar
organisation in the East.

WESTERN MONASTICISM 209^
rendered possible the great work vvhich the Western
monks afterwards accomplished. The monk became
accustomed to the ungrudged admiration of the
Church. He gave in return enthusiastic service
and complete devotion to the Church's cause. In_
the East the repeated enactments of councils and
emperors kept the monks conscious that they were
distrusted. They came, therefore, to live isolated
lives. Of course, both in the East and West there
were times when the condition of affairs was entirely
different. There were Eastern bishops who honoured
and used the monks. There were Western bishops
vvho were jealous and distrustful. Yet I believe that,
in the main, the early attitude of the bishops and
clergy towards the raonks, both in the East and the
West, affected the whole subsequent history of
monasticism, in the one case for evil, or at least
for uselessness, in the other case altogether for good.
Next vve notice that in the West the movement
was to a great extent aristocratic. In Egypt the
monks were chiefly drawn from the lower classes.!
Farraers and tradesmen thronged the Nitrian deserts
and the Pachomian monasteries. In the East, with
some notable exceptions, the same thing is probably
true. The most renowned ascetics were not men
of noble famUies. In the West it is very notice
able that a great number of the first monks and
nuns came from the aristocracy. Paula, Blesilla,
* See' Weingarten, Urspru7ig, p. 49.

2IO CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Paulina, Marcella, Lea, Melania, and others were
great ladies.! They belonged to farailies accustomed
to the profuse luxury of the Roraan patricians, to
a multitude of servants, constant feasts, to jewels,
and wardrobes packed with clothes. They bore
names vvhich commanded the respect of half the
world. Pamraachius was a senator of noble rank,*
St. Jerome himself belonged to a good and at one
time wealthy family.* Florentius,* "a distinguished
monk," was at one time the owner of great wealth.
Paulinus* of Nola belonged to a noble family. St
Martin^ and St. Ambrose^ carae from the upper
classes. This by no means exhausts the list that
might be made, but it is sufficient to show how
strongly the monastic ideal appealed to the upper
classes. Right through the history of Western
monasticism down to the time of St Francis of
Assisi the same thing remains true. We are
astonished at the number of aristocratic names
which meet us in the annals of the Benedictine
order. Taking the single period of the Clugniac
reforra,' alraost every leader in it is connected with
the great feudal aristocracy.
Here, again, I see one of the causes of the great
' See St. Jer., Ep, 66.
^ Ibid. 3 ygj^,
* St, Jer., Ep, 4, and Chron. ad. A,D, 38 1.
= St. Jer., Ep, 58. « Vita., ii.
' His father was prefect of Gaul.
* See Sackur, Die Cluniacenser, vol. i.

WESTERN MONASTICISM 211
influence of Western monasticism. The Egyptian
fellah was incapable, from want of education, of
appreciating the value of learning. In Egypt the
monks as a whole never became a learned body.
On the other hand, the noble families of the West
had preserved at least a respect for culture, and we
see St. Jerome's noble ladies readily sharing his
scholastic work. The Benedictine monks were able
to preserve for Europe the remnants of classical
learning, partly because their ranks were recmited
from the only class in the community which pos
sessed even a tradition of culture. Even in the
darkest periods of the Middle Ages knowledge gave
its possessors a certain power. In another way, too,
their recruits from the upper classes added to the
power and influence of the Westem monks. A scion
of a great famUy may be content to renounce the
world and forget his rank while he labours in the
peaceful monastery garden. Yet the world does not
altogether forget him and who he was. His relations
araong the feudal chiefs will protect his monastery
for his sake; and some day, when he is prior or
abbot, vvUI listen to his proposal of a truce of God
or consent to abide by his arbitration, when they
vvould have turned a deaf ear to the protests of an
enfranchised serf. Thus at the very first there was
impressed upon monasticism in the West a charac
teristic which never raarked it either in Egypt or
in the East

212 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Western monasticism was no slavish imitation of
the earUer types. It is true that it drew its first
inspiration from Egypt through St Athanasius.
Also during the earlier years of its existence it con
stantly looked to Egypt and the East for patterns of
life. The intercourse between the Western and the
Eastern monks was frequent.! I believe that St
Athanasius^ addressed his Vita Antonii to the
Western monks. Certainly very soon after he wrote
it, it vvas translated into Latin,* and was both widely
read and highly influential throughout the West.
St. Jerome vvas personally acquainted with the life
of the Eastern cloisters, and provided biographies of
its heroes for Latin readers.* Rufinus translated
into Latin the Historia Monachorum in Aegypto?
Sulpiclus Severus preserved in his Dialogues the
experiences of Postumian among the Egyptian
monks. Honoratus of Lerins, Eusebius of Vercellae,
^ St, Anthanasius, Ammonlus, a Nitrian monk one of the "taU
brothers," and Isodorus visited Italy from Egypt. Besides St. Jerome,
Rufinus, Evagrius, Heliodorus, Hylas, Postumianus, Petronius,
Melania, and others visited the East. Cassian spent most of his life
in Egypt and the East,
'^ Weingarten, in his Ursprung, of course denies this, but his whole
position rests upon the assumption that there were no monks in Italy
in the days of St. Athanasius, Spreitzenhofer, in his book, cited
above, shows that this assumption is altogether unjustifiable. That the
Vita A7itonii was addressed to the monks of the West is by far the
most natural interpretation of the opening chapter (see Appendix ii,).
^ By Evagrius in or before 373.
* Vitae Pauli, St. Hilarionis, Malchi.
' See Appendix u.

WESTERN MONASTICISM 213
and other great Western monks gained experience
in the East. St Jerome probably only expressed the
general feeling when he said that the Westerns
ought to take the great heroes of Eastem asceticism
for their patterns. "Let Roman generals! imitate
Camillus, Fabricius, Regulus, and Scipio. Let philo
sophers take for their models Pythagoras, Socrates,
Plato, and Aristotle. Let us monks take as patterns
which we are to follow the lives of Paul, of Antony,
of Julian, of Hilarion, and of the Macarii."
This imitation, however, was no mere attempt to
reproduce the detail and circumstance of the Eastern
ascetic life. The vitality of the movement in the
West is in no way more clearly evidenced than in
the fact that the Westerns accepted what was best
in the spirit of Eastern asceticism, and boldly
ignored what was non-essential in its form. The
Westem ascetics never attempted to imitate the
extraordinary fasts of the Egyptians, still less the
eccentricities of self-torture, which were common in
Syria and Mesopotamia. Cassian, in the Preface to
his Institutes, plainly states that he intends to modify
the severity of the Egyptian discipline vvhich, he
declares, it vvould be difficult or impossible to imitate
in the climate of Gaul, and which, in any case, would
be unsuitable for men of other habits. His intention
is to base Western practice in certain cases upon the
modified asceticism which St Basil recomraended.
1 Ep. 58.

214 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Twice! in the course of his Institutes he points out
cases in which he has modified the Egyptian use. A
Gaulish monk, in the first dialogue of Sulpiclus
Severus, defends himself against a charge of gluttony
with these words : " The love of eating is gluttony
among the Greeks, whereas among the Gauls it is
owing to the nature vvhich they possess."
The lives of the Western monks and nuns were
indeed severely ascetic, yet corapared to that of the
Egyptians their discipline vvas mild. When we
read of the Senator Pamraachius ^ going barefoot in
sombre dress among the poor, washing the feet of
the poor, carrying water for the infirm, hewing wood
for them and lighting fires, giving all his property in
alms and living upon the coarsest food, we marvel at
his asceticism. Eustochium and Paula* were once
too dainty to cross a muddy street or walk over
uneven ground. They found a silk dress too heavy
a burden, and sheltered themselves from sunshine.
Afterwards we read of them squalid in their dress,
trimming lamps, lighting fires, sweeping floors, clean
ing vegetables, putting cabbage into pots to boil,
laying tables, handing cups, fasting, and patiently
enduring scorn. We are astonished at the complete
ness of their self-denial. Yet there is nothing which
excites our scepticism or raises a feeling of disgust
This modification of physical asceticism is a third
characteristic feature of Western monasticism. St.
! Bk, i., 10. ' St, Jer,, Ep. 66. ' Ibid.

WESTERN MONASTICISM 215
Basil's influence in the East worked, as we have seen,
in the same direction, but it vvas not sufficiently
powerful to prevent the establishment there of
fiercely ascetic orders. In the West, up to the
time of the final establishment of the Benedictine
rule throughout the whole of Italy, Gaul, and
England, the genius of the movement made for
moderation and the diminishing of the struggle
against the body. This fact, too, helps to explain/
the power and fruitfulness of Westem monasticism.
When, as in Syria, the energies of the monks were
directed mainly to the making of records in fasting
or sleeplessness, the best men were alraost inevitably
abstracted frora all forms of useful work. In the
West the restricted asceticism of the Benedictine
monk vvas sufficient to free him from the bondage
of the flesh or the love of the world's rewards,
without so cramping his spiritual energy as to leave
him an apathetic spectator of religious decadence
in the Church. The tenth century is probably the
most glorious period in the history of Benedictine
monasticism. In it vve see the great leaders of
the Clugniac reform weaned by the asceticism of
the rule from fear of the world's anger, or desire
of the world's favour, and yet prepared to direct
all their energies and power to the great task of
raising the Church from the slough into vvhich she
had fallen. n.
There is yet another feature of Western monasti-

2i6 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
cism which has done more to shape its history than
/ its alliance vvith the clergy, its hold upon the upper
classes, or the comparative mildness of its discipline
From the very first W^esterri monasticism shows a
tendency towards organisation and legislation. At
first there were no definite rules, but there existed
a desire for rules. No doubt, as Cassian! tells us,
there were as many systems of life as there were
monasteries in the West, and in each the will of the
abbot was the real rule of life — an unwritten rule,
liable to change as experience or caprice might
suggest No monk was bound to his monastery for
longer than he chose to stay. If he did not like the
rules, or rather the ruling of his abbot, he was free to
go and seek another asylura where the life vvas more
to his taste. Even down to the time of St Benedict''
the system of government by the siraple vvill of an
abbot persisted in raany monasteries. Very early,
however, there appeared here and there a desire for
a vvTitten and established rule. Naturally men
looked to the East for what they wanted. For in
stance, St Jerome translated into Latin the rule
of St Pachomius. It does not seem to have been
vvidely influential in the West, although it formed
the basis of a " Rule for Monks " drawn up by Vigilius
about the year 432. In 398 Rufinus, at the request
of Abbot Urseius of Pinetus, translated and edited
' Inst., ii. I. Cf. Ruf., Pref. in Reg. St. Bas. ad Urseium.
' " MUitans sub regula !-¦«/ Abbate. " — Reg., c. i.

WESTERN MONASTICISM 217
the Regulae of St BasU. He combined St Basil's
two Regulae into one, and although he still preserved
the original catechetical form, he gave to his work
more the character of a rule than It possessed in its
original shape. Some tirae about the year 405
Cassian wrote his Institutes, for the use of monks
in the south of Gaul. This work is really less an
, actual rule than a collection of materials out of
vvhich a rule might be formed. Cassian wrote down
what he recollected of the practices of the Egyptian
monks and hermits. He tells of their dress, their
fasting, the order of their monasteries, their hours
of divine service, their system of reciting the psalter.
He suggests modifications of their discipline in some
respects. Honoratus gave a rule of life to his monks at
Lerins. This rule vvas not written, but preserved by
oral tradition, and our knowledge of it now is very
slight. There are suggestions of some sort of rule in
St. Jerome's epistles. For instance, he writes to
Demetrias ;! " In addition to the rules of psalmody
and prayer, which you must always observe at the
third, sixth, and ninth hours, at evening, at midnight,
and at dawn, you must determine how much time
you will give to the learning and reading of Scrip
ture. When you have spent your aUotted time in
these studies, often kneeling down to pray, as care
1 Ep. 130.

2i8 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
of your soul vvill irapel you to do, have some wool
always at hand ; shape the threads into yarn. By
observing such rules as these you vvill save yourself
and others." This is the germ of a rule for the
guidance of nuns. Its inspiration comes from the
East The first original Latin rule was also intended for
the use of nuns. St. Augustine's Regula Sanctitnoni-
alibus Praescripta took the form of a letter! addressed
to the inmates of a convent at Hippo. After an
exhortation to unity, he lays down definite laws for
the governraent of the coraraunity. All property
is to be held in comraon. The distinctions of rank
vvhich separated the nuns in the world are to be
obliterated. Fasting is to be practised so far as
health and strength permit. Dress is to be simple
and modest. A course of procedure Is arranged for
dealing vvith offenders. The nuns are to have a
common wardrobe, frora vvhich clothes are given
out from time to time. The prioress is held re
sponsible for the observance of the rules. Due
obedience is to be rendered to her.
This rule shows us the direction in which monasti
cism vvas developing in the West Its ascetic re
quirements are moderate. It aims at a high degree
of organisation. It legislates for details. It provides
special treatment for the sick and infirm. It deals
vvith the community as a family and the prioress as
' Ep. 211, written 423 a.d.

WESTERN MONASTICISM 219
the mother of the family. It is important not only
as the first Latin rule, but as the type of most of the
later rules for convents.! Caesarius of Aries based
his Regula ad Virgines upon it It was also, perhaps
in St Augustine's lifetime, transformed into a rule
for monks by the simple process of altering the
genders all through. It is, however, the only genuine
rule of St. Augustine. He founded, we know, a
community of clergy at Hippo which was the
original type of the later Augustinian canons, but he
wrote no rule for them, and the three rules which
pass under his name are works of a later time.
Of these early efforts at legislation, vvhich all
belong to the first half of the fifth century, by far
the most important for the student of later monasti
cism are Rufinus' edition of St Basil and Cassian's
Institutes. The numerous rules which came into
existence during the sixth century are all based
upon these two. The two great types of the older
asceticism, the Egyptian and the Greek, had each its
share in the creation of the Western monastic
system — the one represented by Cassian and the
other by Rufinus' edition of St. Basil With one
exception the various Western writers dealt with
their materials in the same spirit They^ worked
out detailed legislation frora general principles. They
^ See Zockler's note upon it in Askese u. Monchtum, p. 354,
2 These rules will be found in Holstenius, Cod. Reg. Monast., and
some in Migne's P. L., vol, 66.

220 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
eliminated the individualistic competitive spirit and
subordinated the raonk completely to the community.
They reduced asceticism within reasonable limits.
Individual points of interest exist in most of these
rules, but they all more or less represent the result of
the development of monasticism in the West. The
one exception is the Irish rule of St. Columbanus,
It presents peculiar features vvhich differentiate it
from all rules Eastern or Western, but vvith regard
to its asceticism it is a reversion to the older and
severer Egyptian type.! jj- jg therefore outside the
stream of Westem development For a long time,
in virtue of its peculiarities, it held its own in Europe
and resisted longer than any other rule the process
of absorption into the Benedictine.
Incomparably the greatest of all the rules to
which the sixth century gave birth is that of St
Benedict Of the author, the saint himself, we know
comparatively little. He looms dimly great through
a mist of uncertainty and myth. It is very difficult
to realise him as a man, to get even a glimpse of his
personality. When vve have said that he was very
wise, very loving, and very earnest, we can add no
more, and such a description is only to transfer to the
author vvhat are really the epithets of the Rule he
wrote. Born about 450, he gave his life to the
* Cibus sit vilis et vespertinus monachorum. Olera, legumina, farina,
cum parvo paximatio ne venter onereretur. Quotidie jejunundum est,
sicut quotidie orandum (Reg. St. Col umb., iii.). See also his
" Poenitentiale," given in Holstenius.

WESTERN MONASTICISM 221
service of God and monasticism. He met with dis
appointment in his efforts to infuse spirituality into
the lives of monks vvith whom he came in contact.
He studied diligently the lives of the Egyptian
fathers, the writings of Rufinus and of Cassian.
Finally, at Monte Casino, he formulated his famous
rule.! It detracts nothing frora the honour of the author
to recognise that his rule is not a creation, but a
moulding of existing materials into a forra consistent
with the spirit of Western monasticism. To create
what is absolutely new requires, no doubt, genius.
To grasp the salient points in what is old, and to
harmonise them with all that is best in what is new,
requires not only genius, but wisdom and sympathy.
The parallels between the enactments of the Bene
dictine rule and the two great works of St Basil
and Cassian are nuraerous and interesting.^ The
points in vvhich St Benedict differs from St Basil are
comparatively few. In accordance with the general
feeling of the West his ascetic requirements are
mUder. He gives his monks good and sufficient
food. He allows them wine.* He permits a reason
able amount of unbroken sleep.* On the other hand,
he aimed at a complete exclusion of the world from
the monastery. The Basilian monk dwelt in or near
' Gr^., Dial. ii.
' See Griitzmacher's study of the points of resemblance in his Die
Bedeutung Benedikts von Nursia u. s. R., pp. 38 and if.
2 Cf. Bened., 39-41, with BasU (Ruf.), 11. * St. Bened., 22.

222 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
a city. He vvas often the superintendent of an alms
house or hospital. Under the Benedictine rule all
connection vvith the world outside the monastery
vvas, as far as possible, prevented. No monk whose
duty called him outside the monastery walls was to
talk afterwards of vvhat he had seen or heard.! No
monk might receive a letter from a friend or relation
without the permission of the abbot.^ The single
exception to this absolute separation frora the world
is the chapter which enjoins the reception of all
guests vvho raight present themselves,* But even
intercourse vvith guests is strictly limited to specially
appointed monks. Finally, there is a difference in
spirit. St. Basil prefers to lay,- down general prin
ciples of action, and to leave their application to
particular cases in the hands of the abbot St
Benedict legislates for details.
In comparing the Benedictine rule with the Insti
tutes of Cassian we find two other notable points of
difference. St Benedict* permits a monk to endow
his monastery with the whole or part of the property
which he renounced at his profession. He also
insists upon the stabilitas loci? He fixes his monk
In the particular monastery where he raakes his vows.
This is a most important point. By this regulation
the last vestige of freedom is taken from the monk.
1 St. Bened., 67. ^ /^^-^^ 5^ 3 /^^-^^ j^.
* Ibid., 58 ; cf. InstU., iv. 4.
* Ibid., 4, "Stabilitas in congregation:.''

WESTERN MONASTICISM 223
He is not only bound to obey, but he no longer has
any choice about whom to obey, or where and to
what rule his obedience is to be rendered. Once the
final vow is made, the monk is born into a family.
He is a child, and the abbot is his father. Not any
more than a child has he the power to choose a new
father or a new horae. This comparison is just, for
the Benedictine rule is founded upon the idea of a
family. Love is the ruUng inspiration of all his legis
lation. Discipline is necessary not, as in the case of
an army, for the sake of making an organisation
effective, but, as in a family, to let love find its per
fect expression in peace. The monks are children
constrained by one who is wiser than they are to goj
upon ways that are best for them. Only at the
election of a new abbot! do the monks choose for
themselves. Once elected, the abbot is absolute.
There is no power beyond his, except the power of
the written rule. He is responsible to none but God
for what he does.
These six points constitute the advance which St.
Benedict made in his rule upon St Basil's directions
and Cassian's Institutes. They are all in accordance
with the general tendencies of Western monasticism.
They all, as it is easy to see, tended to make the
monks great, as they never previously had been, for
the propagation of the faith, the strengthening of the
Church, and the advance of civilisation. The legis-
' St. Bened., 64.

224 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
lative spirit of the new rules effected a unity in
the cloister and among the monasteries hitherto
unknown. The insistence upon the stabilitas loci, the
absolute exclusion of worldly interests, and the sense
of coramon property given by its merabers to the
coraraunity fostered in the highest degree the corpo
rate spirit within the monastery, vvhich definite legis
lation had sharply severed from the world outside.
The deliberate elimination of austerities, constituting
the Benedictine a minima inchoationis regula, widened
the horizon of raonastic reUgion. The pervading sense
of a father's love and a father's care, the insistence
upon obedience as to a father, preserved in mediseval
life one region where men found tenderness. And
this tenderness, so pathetic amid all the fierceness of
perpetual war, was a reality. It is with no mere
figure that St. Benedict opens the Preface to his
rule, " Ansculta_;?/2— admonitionera pii patris libenter
excipe."

THE BENEDICTINE RULE
ITS SPREAD AND ITS IDEAL

O pulchras acies castraque fortia
Quae spes, una fides, unus amor regit !
Omnes lege sub una
Uno sub duce militant. .
Heu ! quantis rapiunt astra laboribus
Pulsant perpetuis questibus aethera,
Per jejunia longa
Vires corporis atterunt.
Votis unanimes, vi quoque fletuum
Instant, et socias ingeminant preces,
Et concordibus armis
Vim coelo simul inferunt.
Fervent quando die cuncta tumultibus,
Altum turba silet ; caetera dum tacent.
Hi per cantica rumpunt
Noctis longa silentia.
Exercet vigiles continuus labor ;
Incumbent operi non resides manus ;
Tellus culta colonis
Victum suppeditat suis.
Quin regina sui mens quoque subditur,
Rectorisque studet nutibus obsequi ;
Nil servat sibi juris
Capto liberior jugo. Faris Breviary.
Jesus said — Verily I say unto you. There is no man that hath left
house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children,
or lands, for My sake, and the gospel's,
But he shall receive an hundredfold now in this present time, houses,
and brethren, and sisters, and mothers, and children, and lands, with
persecutions ; and in the world to come etemal life.
Jesus said — Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness,
and all these things shall be added unto you.
Tu mihi curarum requies, tu nocte vel atra
Lumen, et in solis tu mihi turba locis, TiBULLUS
{seen by St. Francis of Sales, written over a monk's cell).

CHAPTER VIII
THE BENEDICTINE RULE --ITS SPREAD
AND ITS IDEAL
THE Benedictine rule was the work of a man
who had studied the history of early monasti
cism and was familiar with its literature. This is
evident not only from the direct references which the
rule makes to the writings of St. BasU and Cassian,
but from the resemblance which it bears in many
points to older rules. It is also clearly the work of a
man with a profound knowledge of human nature,
and of one who was in full sympathy vvith the
peculiar development of Western monasticism. The
rule, in fact, fixed and stereotyped the Western
developraent in a permanent form. It was therefore
natural that the Benedictine rule should have spread
as it did from abbey to abbey, and that it should
have been generally accepted as the rule of new
foundations. I think, however, that having regard
simply to the merit of the rule itself, we should
scarcely have expected it to become as it did the
universal Westem rule, the single model of monastic
life. Yet this is the position which it ultimately
227

228 CHRISTIAN iMONASTICISM
attained. Three centuries after the foundation of
the monastery of Monte Casino, Charles the Great!
caused an inquiry to be raade araong the bishops and
abbots of his dorainions as to vvhat other rule or
rules had existed before St. Benedict's became
universal. Apparently not even the recollection of
any other rule survived in 8li.
The story of the spread of the rule over Europe
is both interesting and instructive. St. Benedict
founded the monastery of Monte Casino in 509,^ I
suppose that his rule was written originally for the
monks of that abbey, and that it occupied the saint
up to, or nearly up to, the time of his death in 542.
There are signs in the rule itself that its composition
occupied a considerable space of time,* Probably
Monte Casino was from its very foundation governed
in accordance with the spirit of the rule, for St
Benedict had already had considerable experience
of an abbot's duties. He had atterapted to reform
the life of the monks of a monastery at Vicovarra,
^ "Inquirendum est — quS regula monachi vixissent in Gallia prius
quam regula sancti Benedicti in ea tradita fuisset cum legamu5 sanctum
Martinum et monachum fuisse et sub se monachos habuisse, qui multo
ante sancto Benedicto fuit." — Car. Mag. capit. D. Aquis. (an, 811).
- The chronology is a little uncertain.
' For instance, in chapter v, we read : "Primus gradus humilitatis
est obedientia sine mora," and in chapter vii., " Primus humilitatis
gradus est, si timorem Dei sibi ante oculos semper ponens, oblivionem
omnino fugiat et semper sit memor omnium, quae praecepit Deus."
There is, of course, no real opposition between the two statements.
They are simply such as a man might make who took up his work
from tirae to time with considerable intervening intervals.

THE BENEDICTINE RULE 229
and had ruled twelve communities of his own found
ing at Subiaco. During St Benedict's lifetime the
rule seems scarcely to have been known outside of
Monte Casino. We are, indeed, told of the founda
tion of a daughter monastery at Terracina,! but even
if the story is tme the foundation was unimportant
Terracina has no history. Perhaps it perished during
the troubles caused by the Lombards in the later half
of the century. The traditions of the foundation of
Benedictine monasteries in Gaul and Sicily by St.
Maurus and St. Placidus and others are untmst
worthy.^ According to a letter written to Simplicius,
third abbot of Monte Casino,* the rule was generally
observed in Italy before 580. This letter may possi
bly be genuine, and if so we are entirely in the dark
about the details of the spread of the rule.
Apart from this, the history of the spread of the
rule may be divided into two periods, and in each
period there is a great name. The first reaches
from 580 up to 700, and in it the spread of the rule
is associated with the name of Gregory the Great,
The second period reaches to the age of Charles the
Great, and in it the prorainent name is that of
St Boniface. Each of these men had an idea which
affected the history of his period. Gregory aimed
at the spread of monasticism without insisting
^ Greg., //. Dial, 22. ^ Mab., Arm. Bened., lib. iv. and v.
2 ' ' Hue afferri potest vulgata Fundani abbatis epistola ' reverentissimo
monachorum patri Simplicio' inscripta in qua testatur — ^jam tempore
suo omnia Campaniae, Samniae, Valeriae, etc. Benedictam (regulam)
servare decrevisse" and ffi — Mab., A)in. Bened., vii. 2.

230 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
specially on the Benedictine type. Boniface aimed
at reducing all monasticism to a uniform obedience
to a single rule, and that rule the Benedictine. In
both periods the impulse came from Rome, and the
work was done under the patronage and with the
approval of the popes.
Viewing it in this way, the first event of real
importance in the history of the Benedictine order
vvas the destruction of the monastery of Monte
Casino by the Lombards! in 5S0, The monks fled
to Rome, where they were received by Pope Pelagius
II,, and established in a monastery near the Lateran,^
Gregory, the future Pope, was then the head of the
monastery of St Andrew, which he, had himself
founded in 575. He had, therefore, an opportunity
before his elevation of knowing and appreciating
the Benedictine rule. It is possible that he intro
duced it into his own monastery before he became
Pope, in vvhich case he may rightly be claimed as
a Benedictine monk. It seemed fairly certain that
the rule had been accepted by this monastery before
St Augustine's mission to England In 595.* Gregory
^ Mab., Ann., vii. I.
^ " Hi {i.e. monachi) in urbem Romam, cum sanctae Regulae auto-
grapho et quibusdam aliis scriptis aliaque modica supellectile perfugii
causa se se retulerunt, Pelagio Secundo pontifice, qui proximum
Lateranensi patriarcho locum, eis ad construendum monasterium con
cessit. "^Mab,, Ann., vii. L See also Paul Diac, iv, i8,
" "Quod vero raonac'ni qui a Gregorio in Saxoniam missi, sancti
Benedicti regulae fuerint mancipati, inter alia etiam illudos tendit, quod
ex ipsius discipulis vix potest in illis partibus monachus aliquis inveniri
a quo non observetur tam in proposito quam in habitu regula Benedicti.'
— ^Johann Diac, V. St. Greg., iv. 82.

THE BENEDICTINE RULE 231
the Great certainly preferred the Benedictine rule to
any other. He gave it, sorae time after their founda
tion, to the six monasteries which he had established
in Sicily. It was carried by his missionary, St
Augustine, to England, and became the rule of the
abbey of the Holy Redeemer! in Canterbury. After
Gregory's death it vvas firmly established in many
monasteries in France and Italy. No doubt the
Pope used the great political influence which he
possessed with the Prankish kings, and with Theo-
delinda. Queen of the Lombards, and it enabled him
to regulate monastic affairs in their dominions. At
the same time, Gregory made no attempt to enforce
the Benedictine as the sole type of monastic life.
He readily confirmed the privileges which one of
his predecessors^ had granted to the monastery of
Aries, where the monks lived under the rule of St
Caesarius. Gregory's greatest work for the Benedictines did
not Ue in the actual enforcing of the rule in old
or new monasteries. In the second book of his
Dialogues he narrates the story of St. Benedict's
life. He pronounces vvhat is nothing less than a
pan^yric upon the saint, and speaks of his rule as
"discretione praecipua, sermone luculenta."* The
biography is unreliable, but it was very widely read.
Bearing the name of so great and so justly honoured
^ Mab,, Ann. Bened., tom. i., App. i., pars. 2, 3.
^ See his Epistles, ix. 1 1 1 and viL 12. ' c. 36.

232 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
a man as its author, this work carried with it great
authority. After Gregory's death it continued the
work he had begun while alive, and prepared the
waj' for the reception of the Benedictine rule in
European monasteries.
Throughout the whole course of the seventh
century enthusiastic admirers of the saint strove to
introduce his rule. Thus Aigulf,! who is credited
with having brought the bones of St Benedict to
Fleury, introduced the rule into the monastery of
Lerins,- of vvhich he became abbot He seems to
have simply substituted it for the old traditional
rule of Honoratus. Soraetiraes the Benedictine
existed side by side with some other rule in the
same monastery. This was the case in Bobbio,*
founded in 609 by St Columbanus. We read that
there the monks lived either under the rule of
St. Benedict or St Columbanus. Occasionally
efforts were made to combine the Benedictine with
the older rule. Thus Donatus* of Besangon made
an attempt to create a new rule by uniting those
^ Mab., Ann., xiv. 29.
- This was not done without considerable opposition. The monks
of Lerins had sunk into a degraded condition, and were naturally
opposed to a reforming abbot and a new and strict rule (see Mab.,
Ann. Bened., xv. 18).
'¦' "Ejus(2.«,EoboleniAbbatis,A.D.640)tempore centum et quadraginta
monachi in monasterio Bobiensi degebant sub regula sanctae memoriae
Benedicti vel reverendissimi Columbani." — Mah., Ann. Bened., xiii. 3.
* Holsten., Cod. Reg. Monach., iii. 78. The same sort of union of
rules was made apparently in several French monasteries, e.g. Luxeuil,
Solignac, and others.

THE BENEDICTINE RULE 233
of Caesarius of Aries and Columbanus with the
Benedictine.
Recognising that the Benedictine rule is not an
absolutely rigid code, we are not surprised that it
should itself have undergone sorae practical modi
fication in the course of its extension. The letter
of the rule remained unaltered, but portions of it
became emphasised, and the resulting monastic life
was perhaps different from that contemplated by St
Benedict For instance, the rule enjoins the reading
of Holy Scripture and the writings of the fathers.
No one, however, would guess from the text of the
rule that its adherents would ever become great
scholars. It leaves learning possible for the monks.
It neither suggests nor recoraraends it On the other
hand, some of the other rules which the Benedictine
ultimately superseded laid considerable emphasis on
scholarship as a monastic duty. The rule of Cas
siodorus! is one example, that of Ferreolus^ another.
On coming into contact with rules like these the
Benedictine life would naturally be modified. In
such ways, no doubt, many practical glosses came
' It is not accurate to speak of the rule of Cassiodorus. Possibly his
monastery of Vivariense was placed under the Benedictine rule. If so,
he evidently felt himself at liberty to make such alterations as seemed
to him desirable. He lays great stress on the necessity for learning,
and regards the labour of the farm and garden as a substitute for work
in the library in the case of such monks as have no ability or education,
and quotes Virgil in recommending farm work to the illiterate.
^ c, xi., and xxvi,, Holsten., ii.

234 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
to exist as authorised comments upon the original
text of the rule.
In England alone during this period the Bene
dictine rule began to arrive at recognition as the
only true type of monastic life. Its progress was
furthered by such men as Wilfrid of York! ^^f}
Benedict Biscop.^ In Spain, owing no doubt to
the political isolation of the country, the Benedictine
rule made little progress.
During this period, then, the Benedictine rule
became known in Rome. It won the admiration
and support of Gregory the Great. His missionaries
introduced it into England. His writings recom
mended it in France and Italy. It made its way
from monastery to monastery, and took possession
of most new foundations ; but the idea of uniformity
of monastic rule had not yet appeared.
The next period, which may be said roughly to
cover the eighth century, saw the Benedictine rule
finaUy established as the only recognised and
authorised form of monastic life in Italy, France,
England, and Germany. The great influence during
this period is that of St. Boniface, who worked in
complete harmony with three successive popes —
Gregory II., Gregory III,, and Zacbarias, St
Boniface was an Englishman and a raonk of the
Benedictine abbey of Nutschell. Pie has been called
^ Mab, , An/i. Bened. , xv, 36 and ff.
¦^ Bede, Vit. SS. Abb., i.

THE BENEDICTINE RULE 235
the apostle of Germany, for although he was pre
ceded in his work by Irish missionaries, he accom
plished what they had only attempted. His energies
were directed to two ends — the conversion of abso
lutely heathen tribes and the reduction of the
independent Christianity of the Irish converts to
the Roman obedience.! He was priraarily a mis
sionary, and secondarily, having regard to the
condition of the independent clergy, a reformer.*
In both capacities he sounded the death-knell of
the Columban type of monasticisra,* the only type
vvhich still raaintained itself against the Benedictine.
His raonastery of Fulda, over vvhich Sturm* pre
sided as abbot, became the model of German
monasteries. Sturm, at the request of Boniface,
had resided for some time at Monte Casino^ (rebuilt
by Gregory II.), in order to master thoroughly the
working of the Benedictine rule. A series of councils,
in which Boniface's influence may be traced,® estab
lished the Benedictine rule In France, Germany, and
England to the exclusion of every other. The popes
in Italy worked for the same end. Gregory II. had
been himself a Benedictine monk. His re-establish
ment of Monte Casino'' gave to the order a raother
1 Vita St. Bonif, 15. 2 /3jVf., i. S, 23. ' Ibid., 36.
¦* The picturesque story of the founding of Fulda will be found in
Ann. O. St. B., saec. iii., pt. 2, p. 267.
' Ibid., p. 251.
^ EspeciaUy Liptinensis (743), where all monks were ordered to
receive the rule of St. Benedict.
'^ Paul Diac, Hist. Lango., vi. 40.

236 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
abbey and a central point of union. Pope Zacharias
laid the foundation of its famous library,! and is
supposed to have granted its monks exemption from
the power of their bishop.
Thus, before the coronation of Charles the Great,
Western monasticism, with the exception of some
Spanish cloisters, was united into a single order.
The monks formed one vast brotherhood, living
similar lives, obeying the same rule. A monk
might travel frora England to Rome, from Fulda
in the German forests to Fleury, and find himself
everywhere among familiar surroundings. For him
the world held a thousand homes, a thousand fathers.
Everywhere he found the same work* waiting for him,
broad harvest fields for reaping, schools to teach in,
libraries to learn in. Everywhere he joined the same
round of daily worship, the familiar alternations of
psalm and lesson and prayer. From every home his
heart turned vvith wondering respect to the great
patron and protector who sat upon the apostle's
seat in Rome. He had for his Master's sake left
houses and lands and father and mother, and he
found it literally true that in this present life he
received a hundredfold more houses and lands and
fathers and raothers. Certainly the remainder of the
prophecy vvas also true of hira — " with persecutions,"
' He gave back to the monastery "regulam quam beatus pater
Benedictus suis Sanctis manibus conscripsit,'' which the monks had
brought with them to Rome in the time of Pope SUvester II.

THE BENEDICTINE RULE 237
but beyond them he looked for the end of it all,
"everlasting life."
This great brotherhood, under the patronage and
protection of the Pope, was the result of the develop
ment of monasticism in the West In it we have
something so different from the early expressions of
the ascetic spirit that vve are terapted to ask whether
it is really a developraent at all, and not rather some
thing wholly new. The gentle spirit! which ordained
that all shpuld be done according to the measure of
the weak brother's ability is widely removed from
the competitive individualism vvhich led St Macarius
in disguise to the monastery of St. Pachomius ^ and
taught him to surpass all others in the severity of
his fasts. All the manifold activities of the Bene
dictine monastery^ — the reading, teaching, and hus
bandry — suggest a life utterly remote frora that of
the silent hermit in his desert cave whom the demons
vexed. What has changed? Is the whole spirit of
the life different, or is it only the accidents that have
been shed off, the mistakes corrected, and the good
that was in the earlier life focussed to the burning
point? Is the Benedictine monk a legitimate de
scendant of St Antony ?
We must go further back still and ask whether
or not this Western monasticism has caught and
preserved the spirit of the apostolic Church, Is
' " Omnia tamen mensurate fiant propter puslllanimes."— St. Bened.,
Reg., 48, ' Hist. Laus., 20.

238 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
St Benedict in real sympathy with the ascetic motif
of St John's Epistle? Does his rule breathe really
the spirit of the Master, vvho said, "If any man will
come after Me, let him deny" — abjure, disown —
"himself, and follow Me."
I believe that the spirit of asceticism has been the
same all through the history of the Church. To
imitate Christ, that is the ascetic's desire. To re
nounce the world, that is the only course vvhich
seems to make a complete iraitation impossible.
The aim of the ascetic is to be good, even to the
exclusion of the idea of doing good. Or, since the
two things are really inseparable, to set, the heart
only on being good, and to let the doing follow as it
can, as In the end it must In the face of all the
good that the Benedictines did, their services to the
Church, to learning, and to civilisation, it is hard
at first to realise that they never airaed at doing
such things at all Yet in their rule there is no
suggestion of any object except the nurture of
personal religion.
In the Prologue to his rule St Benedict says
plainly vvhat it is that he is atterapting to do. " We
must found, therefore, a school for the service of the
Lord.! Be not terrified and timid, so as not to enter
upon the way of life, for the entrance of that way
must be narrow. You must go upon the way of
good conduct and of faith vvith a heart enlarged by
' " Constituenda est ergo a nobis dominici schola servitii."

THE BENEDICTINE RULE 239
the unerring sweetness of love. So you will obey
the commandments of God. By never departing
from His tutelage, by persevering in His doctrine
even unto death, we shall be partakers of the suffer
ings of Christ, and thus deserve to be companions
of His kingdom."
It is this spirit which runs through the whole
legislation of St Benedict. Every chapter makes
for the founding and perfecting of the school for the
service of the Lord. There is nothing in it essentially
different from that hunger and thirst after righteous
ness which drove St. Antony into the wilderness or
led Pamraachius to lay aside his senatorial robes.
It is true that the "school" was organised and
ruled in a way altogether different from the first
ascetic communities in the lauras. The abbot, once
elected, was an absolute monarch. His power was
limited only by the written rule. He must, indeed,
consult his monks in cases of difficulty,! but every
decision rested ultimately with him alone. The monk
might tender his advice, but whether it was taken or
rejected, his duty in the end was to obey. The
abbot's power, however, was given him for one
purpose only — that he might promote personal
religion among the brethren. " Let him hold no
low opinion ^ of the value of human souls, lest he
give too much care to what is transitory, earthly,
» St. Bened., Reg., 3.
* "Ne parvipendens salutem animarum sibi commissarura" (c. 2).

240 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
fleeting. Always let him think how he has received
souls to govern of whom he raust give an account
So let him always dread the future inquiry of the
Shepherd concerning the sheep entrusted to him.''
It is one of the chief duties of the abbot to care
for those who have been led astray and fallen into
grievous faults. " Let the abbot follow the example
of the Good Shepherd,! ^^.j^q jgfj. ^j^g ninety and nine
in the wilderness and went to seek the one sheep that
had gone astray. Of its weakness He was so com
passionate that He deigned to take it on His holy
shoulders and thus to carry it back to the flock."
" If," says the rule again, " the abbot have tried the
foments and ointments of exhortation, if the medi
cine of Holy Scripture, if he have cauterised with
excommunication^ and vvith stripes, if even then all
his labour is unavailing, let him call upon the brethren
to pray vvith hira for the offender (for this is a remedy
of raore force than any), that the Lord, vvho can do
all things, raay work the cure of the brother. If
even thus he be not healed, then let the abbot use
the knife of amputation, lest one sick sheep con
taminate the whole flock."*
This intense solicitude for the individual soul is a
note of the whole rule. The Benedictine abbot
' c. 27.
'^ No one might speak to a monk under excommunication except
certain brethren appointed specially by the abbot, who went to the
offender privately. These were " consolatores sympectae" (c. 27).
= c 2S.

THE BENEDICTINE RULE 241
might be a leader of missionaries or colonists, but
these were accidents, and the work involved in such
positions accidental. His true position was the
mastership of a school for the service of the Lord.
His real duty vvas to keep the brethren in the narrow
way. Unconditional obedience was required of the monk
in every case, but not for the sake of perfect monastic
discipline. "The first step in humUity is to obey
without delay. This befits those vvho feel that
nothing is dearer to them than Christ and His
service, which they have undertaken. Without doubt
such as these imitate the thought of the Lord when
He said, ' I came not to do Mine own will' "! Obedi
ence of the rank and file to a commander is always
a condition for the success of any enterprise. Doubt
less it was an element in the great success of the
Benedictine work, but It was not enjoined in order
to secure success. Humility is an essential part of
the iraitation of Christ, and obedience is the outward
expression of huraility. For this reason the monk
must learn to obey.
Regular and systematic labour vvas part of the
daily routine of life in a Benedictine monastery.
According to the season of the year, a greater or
less nuraber of hours were spent in the fields.* The
amount of food and drink might vary with the
severity of the labour.* Even the duty of attending
1 c. 5. ^ c. 48. * c 39 and c, 40.

242 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
chapel raight, in sorae cases, give way to the claims
of the farra,! Great results were attained by the
farraer monks. Forests were cleared, land was
broken up, and crops grown on it. The monks
colonised and reclaimed great tracts of land. But
all this was beside the purpose of the rule. It fol
lowed frora regular and well-directed labour, but the
labour itself was undertaken because "idleness is
the enemy of the soul,"* No monk should be
grieved at having to work vvith his hands in the
fields, for in so doing he becomes "a true monk,
and lives by the labour of his hands, as did the
fathers and the apostles."
The Benedictine monks have attained a great
reputation for scholarship, but originally their read
ing was meant for a spiritual exercise and to provide
subjects for meditation. " In Lent* each monk is to
receive from the library a book which he is to read
regularly and completely." The choice of each
monk's book lay with the abbot, vvho gave him, not
what he desired, but what seemed to be profitable in
his individual case.* Certain senior monks presided
over the reading of the raonasteries ; but these were
not tutors or lecturers. They watched, " lest any be
found yielding to accidie and passing the time in
idleness."^ ' c. so. ^ "Otiositas est inimica animae" (c. 48). ' c, 48,
* See Hildamar's note : " If the book asked for is thought unsuitable,
the abbot replies, ' Non est tibi liber iste aptus, sed talis aptus est tibi
et tunc non dabit illi quem quaesivit sed quem cognoverit illi aptum
esse.' " ° c. 48.

THE BENEDICTINE RULE 243
The monasteries were the almshouses of the Middle
Ages. They received and lodged all travellers indis
criminately. Even in this work the monks were not
primarily philanthropists. The gates of the convent
were always open to the poor, to the hunted fugitive,
to the weary traveller. No one can guess at the
amount of misery the monks alleviated and the
araount of charitable work they did. They asked
no questions. Need was its own recommendation
to them. But Benedict had not aimed at an organisa
tion of charity. "Every stranger,"! he says, "who
comes is to be received as if he were Christ Himself,
for He says, ' I was a stranger, and ye took Me in.'
When a stranger is announced let the prior or one of
the brethren go to meet him and receive him with
every sign of love. First let them pray together,
and then let them join in the kiss of peace.* To all
guests who corae or go the head must be bowed or
the whole body prostrated, and Christ adored in their
persons, for it is Christ who is received. All guests
who are received are to be brought to prayers. The
divine law is to be read in the guest's presence, that
he raay be edified." Poor people and vagrants are
to be specially honoured, "since Christ is specially
received_iii . them." Thus we see that the primary
motive for hospitality was not philanthropy, but the
' c. 53.
' The kiss of peace is not to be given till after they have prayed to
gether — "propter illusiones diabolicas." The saint here is mindful of
the old Egyptian stories of diabolic deceptions.

244 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
hope of winning sorae spiritual blessing, of coming
mystically into touch with the person of Christ
In the fourth chapter of the rule there is given a
long list of virtues, vvhich St. Benedict calls the
" means of good works." The list is extremely
significant. With the exception of^some simple
repetitions of scriptural injunctions, the^UsJ: jmen-
tions only the virtues of personal religion. The
eye is kept fixed upon the condition of the indi-
Yidual's soul, and never wanders to the consideration
of the effect of his life upon the worid.
Very suggestive, too, is the chapter! vvhich de
scribes the admission of new members to the order.
The novice is put into a special cell tO:.eat and sleep.
There he is visited by an elder, one vvho is apt at
winning souls. The elder diligently inquires* whether
he " truly seeks after God, whether he is anxious to
do the work of God, desirous to obey and to suffer.
Let the elder declare to him how hard and rough is
the way by which men go to God. If he promise
steadfastness and perseverance, then after two months
let the rule be read to him. Let him be told, ' Lo,
this is the law under which you wish to enlist If
you are able to keep it, enter. If it is beyond your
power, depart in peace.' " There is just one thing
in the first instance indispensable for the candidate.
He is not questioned about his fitness for any work,
' c, Iviii.
" " Qui super eum omnino curiose intendat et soUicitus sit si," etc.

THE BENEDICTINE RULE 245
not asked of his abUity or his learning, but, as far as
human power can do it, his soul is probed as to the
reality of his seeking after God and his desire to do
the work of God. " To seek after God " is a phrase
which may mean very little, may be a commonplace
of pious talk ; but to the Benedictines it had a tre
mendous meaning. Here is St Bernard's ! explana
tion of the phrase : " It is to seek nothing else as you
seek Him, to seek nothing else besides Him, to seek
nothing else after Him." And again, he says : " If
we do not wish to seek God fruitlessly, we must seek
sincerely, we must seek frequently, we must seek
perse veri ngly. There must be nothing before Him,
nothing along with Him. We must not be tumed
to anything away from Hira." Again, " to do the
work of God " may mean, does generally mean
now, to engage in some of the various activities
of parochial life or charitable endeavour. To the
Benedictine monk the words had a quite different
sense. To be anxious to do the work of God is to
" love those things which pertain to God Himself, to
wit, prayer and holy reading, watchlngs by night,
the daily course of services, fasting, and every divine
office."* If the raind of the postulant is set upon
^ "Non aliud tanquam eum, non aliud praeter eum, non aliud
post eum." I have not been able to find these exact words in St,
Bernard, but they correspond in substance to the first two chapters
of the treatise De diligendo Deo. This and the foUowing passage I
translated from^the Commentary in Migne, P. L., 66.
^ This is Smaragdus' note on the meaning of the phrase.

246 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
such things as these, then he may Usten to the rule,
may meditate upon it as upon a path marked out
which leads to the attainment of his desires.
So it seems to me that the Benedictine rule was
certainly true to the old ascetic ideal of seeking God
only without compromise, and literaUy imUating
Christ. If the monks of the order became after
wards colonists, philanthropists, scholars, stati- ;.nen,
it was not because their rule trained them for such
work. They were trained to be good, and nothing
more. They sought the kingdom of God and His
righteousness. It vvas not because they pursued
them, or laboured for them, or desired them that
all the other things were added tp them after
wards. In the same way the rule is true to the other half
of the ascetic idea. It is by renunciation of self and
the worldJhat^God is to be sought. At his pro
fession he renounces all his property. He may give
it to the poor or he may make a soleran donation of
it to the monastery, but he must keep nothing back
for himself! « Indeed he cannot, seeing that he
has no longer power even over his own body."
" Especially," says the rule, " must the sense of
private property be extirpated from the monastery.*
Let no man presume to give or to receive anything
without the command of the abbot. Let no one
possess anything of his own, neither book, nor pen,
' c. 58. " c. 33.

THE BENEDICTINE RULE 247
nor writing tablets ; Indeed, nothing at all, absolutely
nothing {sed nihil omnino). So it befits them whose
very bodies and wills are not in their own power.''
No monk, except those specially appointed, is to
talk vvith strangers.! If possible, a monk who is
sent outside the monastery is not to eat till he
retums.* He is not, after his return, to talk of vvhat
he has seen or heard in the world outside.* He is
not, without permission, to receive letters from out
side.* The rule in this way simply works out in
detail the ideal of the Antonian asceticism. The
world is to be dead to the monk, and he dead to the
world. The position of Benedictine monasticisra as a
legitimate development of the original ascetic spirit
will, perhaps, be made clearer by a comparison
between its spirit and that of the Jesuits, In many
ways there is a striking resemblance between the
two orders. Both were great missionary societies.
Both were close allies of the popes. Both have
been active in education. Both have affected the
history of Europe. Here, however, the resemblance
seems to end. The Benedictine order has a record
of magnificent success, to vvhich the history of the
Jesuits has very little to compare. The nations
whora the Benedictine raisslonaries converted to
Christianity have become the foremost nations of
the world. The results of the Jesuit missions are
' c. S3. ' c. SI, 3 c 67. . ¦* c 54.

248 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
in comparison Insignificant. The Benedictine order
raised the Roman Church almost to the sovereignty
of the Western world. The Jesuits laboured for the
Papacy vvith unswerving devotion, but it may well
be asked whether the position of the Pope in Europe
to-day vvould not be better, instead of worse, if
Ignatius Loyola had been killed instead of wounded
in the defence of Pampeluna. It was the Benedic
tine order more than anything which secured the
unity of the mediseval Church by winning over to
/the cause of order the scattered elements of inde
pendent Christianity. Must it not be admitted that
the Jesuit efforts to restore England to the Roman
obedience widened, instead of closfng, the breach
between the two great Western branches of the
Catholic Church? The Benedictines have earned
the gratitude of Europe by their labours. They
have extorted praise from even the most unwilling
lips. The Jesuits have made their name a byword
and a reproach. The most detestable charges have
been brought against them, and even though such
charges may be repeatedly refuted, it seems impos
sible for the society to altogether clear itself Let
a man read the name Benedictine, and there rise
unbidden to his mind great thoughts. He has a
vision, perhaps, of stately tomes of Catholic theology,
edited, sifted, criticised with a labour that seems
incredible. Or he sees a long procession of cowled
figures chanting through the cloisters of an abbey.

THE BENEDICTINE RULE 249
and the sweet picture of ungrudged raonastic chari
ties. But let him read the name Jesuit, and rightly
or wrongly, it will connote to him deceit and
craft, unscrupulous intrigue, and disingenuous adap
tation of any means for the accomplishment of an
end. It may be that the judgment is unjust, but
there it is, the impression vvhich three centuries of
Jesuit work have left upon the world.
In some ways the comparison is not altogether
fair. The lot of the earlier Benedictines fell in more
propitious times. In the main the mediaeval Papacy
represented the side of advance. Ecclesiastical unity
was almost a necessity for civilisation struggling out
of infancy. Learning and science were in leading
strings held by the Church. The monasteries were
the centres of light and peace and right The lot
of the Jesuits was a harder one. The Papacy, when
they fought for it, was on the side of reaction.
Civilisation had long since won its way beyond the
Church's lands. Learning- had risen like Samson
frora his sleep, and broken its bonds. Science, in
spite of the Church, was opening Nature's book.
The part the Jesuits had to play was hard ; yet this
does not wholly account for the different farae of
the orders. A man may fight well, though he fight
on the losing side; may gain some honour, since
rio-ht is seldom altogether on one side.
We raust look deeper than the mere outward
conditions of the times they lived in, if vve are to

250 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
account for the different raeasure of success and the
different meed of fame which has fallen to the two
orders. Between the two rules there is a vital and
fundamental diff'erence. In each the postulant vowed
obedience, poverty, and chastity. In each he re
nounced the world and its rewards ; but the motive
was different. The Benedictine renounced in order
that he might the better serve God and imitate Christ
The Jesuit renounced that he might becorae a perfect
instruraent in the hand of his superior for the
service of the society. The Benedictine rule aimed
at raaking good men, and left the question of their
usefulness to God. The Jesuit discipline aimed at
making men into parts of a great machine. The
machine was meant for the service of the Pope. To
serve the Pope was assumed to be the same thing
as to serve the Church. To serve the Church rightly
is to serve God. There are too raany links in the
chain, too raany places where someone may make
a mistake. God made men wise enough to see the
narrow way that leadeth unto life, and to learn the
wayfaring of it in a " dominici schola servitii" like that
of St Benedict. He did not make them wise enough
to take upon themselves the office of His providence.
The Benedictine rule was a legitimate offspring of
the old ascetism. It enjoined the renunciation of the
world for the sake of Christ The Jesuit rule was
bastard. It taught a renunciation that was com
plete enough, but it was for the sake of something

THE BENEDICTINE RULE 251
else — something not even necessarily a work of
God. Has this study of monasticism anything more than
an antiquarian interest for Chiirchmen to-day? I
have already ventured to suggest how the enthusiasm
which created monasticisra has its parallels in modern
Christianity and how the Anglican Church has mis
trusted it and misused it. There remains one point
suggestive at least of thought During the last half-
century the Anglican Church has seen revive in her
the conception of monastic life. All the experience
of the past goes to prove to us how great a part
monasticism may play in the Church's life. The
ultimate development of our brotherhoods and sister
hoods it is impossible to forecast. History never
exactly repeats itself There is always some for
gotten element in the problem which vitiates the
wisest calculation of its issue. Yet the broad princi
ples vvhich govern human affairs remain the same,
and tend to work towards similar results. If it is
true that men in the past became most useful by
only trying to be good, is it not likely that the same
law may be at work to-day ? When men and women
bind themselves together to serve the Church, to
nurse the sick, to help the poor, to convert the
heathen, they are liable to make mistakes, to use
means in their blindness vvhich vvill defeat in the end
the very purpose they have at heart. When they
join together simply to imitate Christ, they can

252 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
hardly go far wrong upon their way. They need not
fear but that God will use them when he wants them.
Perhaps it is also a higher ideal to renounce even
the satisfaction of usefulness and the glory of
service.

APPENDICES

APPENDIX I
PRE-CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM AND ITS CONNECTION
WITH THE CHRISTIAN MONASTIC LIFE
A LMOST all the great religions of antiquity afford some
.^~\. examples of ascetic practice. In some of them
asceticism arrived at a considerable stage of development,
and has afforded so many points of resemblance to
Christian monasticism that popular writers and loose
thinkers have frequently assumed a close connection
between them. Four religious systems especially have
been credited singly or together with being the parents of
Christian monasticism. The Indian ascetics and monks
of Brahmanism and Buddhism, the Jewish Essenes and
Therapeutae, the mystical philosophers of the later Greek
systems, and the " inclusi " of the Egyptian Serapis have all
of them been supposed to have set the examples which
Christians followed. I have tried to show that Christian
monasticism is in reaUty a development of the ascetic
spirit which was present in Christianity from the very first,
and that we have no need to wander into the regions of
foreign religious thought to account for it. It is entirely
unphilosophic to drag in an outside infiuence to account
for an institution which might quite naturally spring from
the original principles of the Christian religion itself. It
may, however, be useful to examine briefly the asceticism of
these four religious systems and to see vvhat grounds there
are for supposing them to have been the starting-point of
Christian monasticism. 255

256 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM

I. ASCETICISM IN THE INDIAN RELIGIONS !
The religion of the Rig Vedas, the earliest Indian
religion, vvas a simple and joyous nature-worship. At what
period exactly a change came in its spirit we cannot tell.
Somehow the sense of sin laid hold upon the popular con
science. The system of sacrifice introduced by Brahman
priests was based on the idea of making expiation for sin.
In close connection with the idea of expiatory sacrifice
stands the Brahmanic idea of asceticism. The ascetic end
of a Brahman's life must be conceived of as a kind of
self-sacrifice in expiation for the sins committed while still
in connection with the world. The hermit life in woods
seems to have been the first kind of distinct ascetic life
among the Brahmans, although previous to its development
there had come into general practice certain dietary limita
tions which are based upon an ascetic view of life. Before
the days of Buddhism there existed besides the wood
hermits some ascetic communities or sects analogous to
the later union of ascetics in monasteries. After the rise
of Buddhism, Brahman asceticism increased in severity.
During the period when Buddhist and Brahman monks
contended for the reputation of the highest sanctity,
Brahman asceticism grew to be a system of revolting self
torture. The whole conception of it remains that of
expiation. The fiercer the ill-treatment of the body, the
more complete was the purification of the soul.
Buddhism at first represented a revolt against the physi
cal asceticism of the Brahmans. The great turning-point
in Gautama Buddha's own life was his determination to
* Most of what I say here about the development of Indian asceti
cism is taken from Zockler's study of the subject in Askese «.
Monchtum, pp. 34 to 78.

PRE-CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 257
give up the severely ascetic practices in which he had found
neither peace nor illumination. His rule of life is very
moderate save in the one point of poverty. This for his
monks was almost as coraplete as it was possible to make
it. His moderation did not, however, even at the first
commend itself to all his disciples. Sects arose aiming at
a more severe asceticism. As the Brahman counter-reforma
tion developed its asceticism and claimed superior sanctity
for its hermits, the Buddhist monks found themselves forced
into a kind of competition in austerity. They had very
early developed a system of monastic life and a strong
organisation, as we gather from the fact that a number of
general councils of Buddhist monks were held. The
Buddhist monks never allowed their asceticism to degen
erate into the horrible extremes of the Brahmans. Their
underlying conception of the value of the ascetic life was
different. For the Brahman it lay in the idea of e.xpiation ;
for the Buddhist in the hope of rising superior to the
bondage of the material world and becoming ultimately
absorbed into the purely spiritual Nirvana.
Two points strike the student of Indian asceticism.
First, it developed, as it did in Christianity, from practices
generally binding, to a severer asceticism in special indi
viduals; and from the detached asceticism of hermits to
unions of like-minded individuals in communities. Second,
that the ascetic idea formed no part of the original
religious tradition, but developed as thought deepened
and spirituality increased.

258 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
2, ASCETICISM IN THE OLD TESTAMENT AND AMONG
THE JEWS
The basal conception of the Old Testament religion
is absolutely different from that of the Indians. It started
from a monotheistic conception of the Deity equally
opposed to polytheism and to a dualistic conception of
the universe.
In the patriarchal period there seems to have been no
idea of asceticism at all. The favour of God is intimately
connected with the earthly prosperity of the righteous man.
The psalms which describe the righteous as blessed with
strong sons, and daughters beautiful as polished stones,
which endow God's chosen with sheep that bring forth
thousands and ten thousands, with fields that laugh and
sing in harvest gladness, are true to the, oldest religious
ideas of the patriarchal period. Even the rite of circum
cision, in which later Jews! ^^^f g, symbolic renunciation
of the lusts of the flesh, had probably at first a quite
opposite meaning.*
The same general idea of religion prevailed during the
Mosaic period. The earth was the Lord's and the fulness
thereof. God's people looked forward to prosperity and
plenty in a land that flowed with milk and honey. In
opposition to this authorised conception, the popular con
science seems to have demanded recognition for certain
vows, like that of the Nazarites, which were based upon
an ascetic idea.* In this period, too, the idea of sexual
' See P'nilo's essay on Circumcision.
' There seems to be no agreement among students of sociology as to
the original idea of the rite. The theory that it was a sanitary regula
tion must be given up. Perhaps Westermarck's guess, in the History
of Human Marriage, is as good as any.
» Num. vi. ; cf. xxx.

PRE-CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 259
relationship involving necessarily a certain unholiness
appeared for the first time.!
In the age of the Judges and Kings this idea persisted
and developed. * The schools of the prophets founded by
Samuel must have had some ascetic tinge in their religion.
They may have been the spiritual ancestors of the great
ascetic prophet Elijah, to whom the Christian monks
looked back as their prototype. The Rechabites, who
are praised by Jeremiah, were an ascetic sect.*
The exilic period brought a development of the ascetic
side of religion. The great affliction of captivity found
a natural expression in new fasts, like that of Purim.*
The second Isaiah's great conception of the suffering
servant of Jehovah disturbed the very base of the old
belief in the close connection between righteousness and
earthly happiness.
Thus the way was prepared for the asceticism of the
post-exilic period. The Pharisees, vvith their two fasts in
the week and their scrupulous care about legal cleanness,
had as their rivals a truly ascetic sect. The origin of the
Essenes is involved in obscurity.^ The extent to vvhich
their peculiarities were due to foreign influences has been
discussed, but without justifying a definite conclusion.
Their view of marriage and their fasting stamp them as
an ascetic sect Their system, however it may have been
enriched with details borrowed from Hellenistic sources,
was essentiaUy a growth from Judaism. The Therapeutae®
were another post-exilic sect, and must be regarded as quite
distinct from the Essenes. They afford an almost perfect
type of ascetic community life.
' Exod. xix. IS ; Lev. xv. 17 and ff.
- I Sam. x-xi. S ; 2 Sam. xi, 10. ' Jer. xxxv. i.
* Esther ix, 32. "* See Lightfoot's essay.
^ See Philo's De Vita Contemplivd and Conybeare's notes on it.

26o "s-^^ [CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Thus the history of the chosen people affords us another
example of the growth of the ascetic idea in a religion
originally not only without asceticism, but fundamentally
opposed to it The multitudinous descendants of the
patriarch, the flocks and corn fields of the righteous, the
inheritance of the land of milk and honey — these are
the original ideas of vvhat God desires for men. Yet
this religion found at last an expression in a sect of celibate
monks vvho had renounced their property.
3. ASCETICISM AMONG THE GREEKS
The Greek religion, Uke the Indian, was originally a
nature-worship. Its development, however, followed en
tirely different lines. Strictly speaking, there was for a
long time no religious development ampng the Greeks.
The ancient myths about half-human divinities remained
in the background of the national consciousness. They
were neither intellectually interpreted nor spiritually de
veloped. Two faculties sprang into prominence in Greek
life, to the exclusion of the instinct for religion. The
artistic appreciation of the beautiful found a substitute for
gods in the heroes of athletic contests, or realised the
divinities of the old myths in artistic forms which appealed
to the jesthetic, but scarcely to the religious emotions.
The intellectual Greeks left the religious myths alone, and
occupied themselves in trying to establish theories of
nature and the universe Mental activity- vvas energetic
in the pursuit cf a rational basis of philosophy, and suffered
no intemiption from the revelations of prophets. Rival
philosophic schools disputed instead of rival religious
sects. Asceticism is very little akin to either the sesthetic
instinct or purely rational thought The ascetic sees or
strains to see God. The artist sees man and the world.

PRE-CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 261
The early Greek philosophers looked calmly and rationally
at nature. In Greek philosophy, therefore, of the pre-
Socratic period vve find little or no trace of asceticism.
" The way of life of Pythagoras "! is possibly an exception,
but his teaching had littie or no influence on early Greek
thought. The influence of Socrates and Plato turned thought
from physics to ethics. Their method was stiU rational,
and asceticism found no place in their systems. Even
Plato, who came nearest of Greek thinkers up to his time
to being religious, made little appeal to the conscience of
the individual, and did not inspire an enthusiasm for
knowing God. The change in the direction of thought
produced a certain effect. The Stoics, who devoted them
selves to ethics more completely and successfully than any
of their predecessors, cannot be called an ascetic school.
They lacked the mysticism without which asceticism can
scarcely find a place in life. Nevertheless, in the writings
of the later Stoics we find thought which very nearly
approaches to the ascetic idea of life.
Greek philosophy did not remain permanently a stranger
to religious mysticism. The Neo-Pythagoreans set the
example vvhich the Neo-Platonists followed of falling back
from the purely rational upon a religious and mystical
conception of the world. The old myths, which had
remained fossilised in the national literature, were wakened
into life, allegorised, spiritualised. A philosophic basis
vvas found for asceticism.
The religion which began by deifying Hercules spoke its
last word in Porphyry's De Abstinentia. The divine,
•which had once sported through Homer's tales joyfully
irresponsible in the sunshme, was recognised to be dimly
' Plat., Rep., X. 600.

262 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
apprehensible only through the intuition of a soul that is
passive, and the children of the men who contested the
Olympic games felt the intolerable weight of bodily desire,
and strove through fast and abstinence to loose the knot
vvhich bound them to the flesh.
4. ASCETICISM IN EGYPt!
The ancient religion of the Egyptians was not ascetic.
In spite of a tendency to meditate upon the condition of
the dead, the early Egyptian life seems to have been
cheerful, and even childlike. The people rejoiced in the
pomp of religious ceremonials. Their morality was natural
and human. Excesses were forbidden, but no violent self-
restraint was practised by either priests or people. Occa
sional fasts were ordained, but sexual asceticism was
unknown. i<"
At the time of the Ptolomaic rule we find that a great
change had passed over the national religion. It had
become gloomy and severe. Men were found willing to
dedicate themselves to a perpetual imprisonment in the
temple of Serapis at Memphis. These "inclusi" lived in tiny
cells, and led lives of the severest asceticism, in honour of
their goddess. So far had the ascetic spirit laid hold upon
the popular mind that the "inclusi" were objects of the
greatest veneration and respect.
The very slight sketch which I have been able to give of
the history of asceticism in these four pre-Christian reli
gions suggests an interesting and curious line of thought.
Asceticism, it appears, is not an element in the simplest
and most primitive religions. It does, however, tend to
' See Amelineau's Hist, of Egyptian Moral Ideas, and Zockler,
Askese u. Mdnchtum, pp. 94-7.

PRE-CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 263
appear, indeed invariably appears, when religion develops
out of its earliest stage into a system of belief in the
divine which seriously affects human conduct. A very
much wider and more careful study of religion from this
point of view would be necessary to establish vvith any kind
of certainty what I have suggested about the relation of
asceticism to religion. If, however, asceticism should prove
to be, like sacrifice and prayer, part of the human religious
instinct, although appearing only when the instinct has
developed a system, it would clearly be a fact of great
importance to the student of Christian monasticism. It
would appear, then, that since Christianity is the most
highly developed and the most spiritual of all religions,
asceticism might be expected, a priori, to find in Chris
tianity its most perfect expression. Sacrifice is perfected in
Christianity. Prayer has reached its highest expression in
Christianity. All that other refigions knew and felt about
prayer and sacrifice has been gathered together, iUuminated,
and intensified in Christ. It is at least possible that the
ascetic instinct may be a younger sister of those which
lead men to sacrifice and pray, and that we might expect to
find, that which indeed we do find, that it has its true
home in the Church and its long-desired point of attach
ment to the divine in the Man of Sorrows and acquainted
vrith grief
This is a mere speculation, which may possibly be a
fruitful source of thought, but to which I have no wish to
attach any weight in trying to estimate what, if anything,
Christian monasticism owes to any of these religions.
In approaching this subject I must point out, in the first
place, that there is no 'possibility of tracing the passage of
the ascetic idea from one religion to another. The case of
the asceticism of the later Greek philosophers is a possible

264 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
exception, but even in the case of the Greeks a fuller
investigation vvould show that the germs of an ascetic
development were present from very early times. It
certainly cannot be supposed that the Buddhists taught
the Egyptians or the Jews to take an ascetic view of life.
No tradition of any great missionary of asceticism exists.
If we go further afield and note the ascetic practices of
great religions in regions which preclude the possibility
of derivation from a common source — such as the religions
of Peru and Mexico — we are strengthened in the belief
that the universality of asceticism is not due to the
influence of any one religion upon others, but is a proof
of its natural and spontaneous growth. If asceticism came
into existence independently in Judaism, Hindooism, the
religions of Egypt, Babylonia, Rome, Peru, Mexico, and
other places, there is at least nothing lihnatural in sup
posing it to have been also a spontaneous growth in
Christianity. I have never met vrith any attempt to trace in detail
the supposed connection between Buddhist asceticism aud
Christian monasticism. It seems, however, to be generally
supposed that the attempt has been made, and made
successfully. The casual references to monasticism as a
realisation in Christianity of Buddhist conceptions, which
are made, very light-heartedly, by preachers and essayists,
do not seem to be based upon any historical study what
ever. The early fathers seem to have known very little about
Indian religions.! When they allude to them at all it is in
a confused and inaccurate manner. They view them as a
rule with hostihty, mingled with contempt, and are most
careful to point out that the asceticism of the Church is
' See lAghtioot's'_Essay on the Essenes, pp, 381 and ff.

PRE-CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 265
something entirely different from that of Buddhists or
Brahmans, When the Church developed for itself a
distinct ascetic life, it by no means began where the
Indian religions left off. Had the Christian ascetics been
mere copyists of the Buddhists, they vvould have entered
at once upon a fully organised system of monasticism in
stead of fighting their way upwards, as the Buddhists had
already done, through the lower stages of monastic evolu
tion. Had the Christianity of the Church been seriously
touched vrith the Brahman spirit, there vvould almost
certainly have appeared along with the asceticism some
traces of the caste system. But the idea of caste vvas
entirely absent from Catholic ascetic life. The movement
towards monasticism in Egypt was a purely popular one.
In the organised Benedictine monasteries of the West it
shows a spirit absolutely opposed to the idea of a privileged
class. In the monasteries alone in the Middle Ages was
there a career open to talent and a complete disregard of
the claims of birth.
Brahmanism and Christianity did meet and interact in
one eclectic sect. There is no doubt that the Manichseans
drew much of their peculiar religious teaching from Indian
sources. Their asceticism was Indian and not Christian in
its origin and ideals. We find in it a distinction among
believers analogous to the caste system. When, as in the
case of the Euchite sect in Asia Minor, Manichaean asceti
cism found a popular expression, it developed a kind of
life which was quickly recognised as quite different from
that of even the most fanatical Christian monks.
We may safely conclude that Indian religions in no way
affected the development of Catholic asceticism. There is
no evidence that they did. There is some eridence that
they did not. There is a strong presumption against their

266 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
having done so, because Manichsean asceticism, the off
spring of a union between Christian and Indian reHgious
thought, is absolutely different from anything we know of
in the history of Catholic monasticism.
The asceticism of the Old Testament exercised a certain
influence on the growth of Christian monasticism. The
early literature of the movement abounds in references to
Elijah as a great type of the ascetic Hfe. Cassian refers to
him more than once.! St. Jerome quotes not only Elijah's
life, but Elisha's, and certain incidents in the histories of
Adam, Moses, Hezekiah, and others as precedents for
Christian ascetic practices.* He refers to those who wan
dered about in sheep skins and goat skins, of whom the
world was not worthy, as the forerunners of the monks.
We have, too, a series of references to the sect of the
Therapeutae, in which their community life is regarded as
an early example of Christian monasticism. Eusebius is
the first who fell into this mistake. He is followed by
Cassian and Jerome.*
I am convinced, however, that the impulse which sent
the early hermits into the wilderness did not come from
a desire to imitate either Elijah or John the Baptist. Their
asceticism was found afterwards convenient for quotation
where scriptural examples of the hermit life were required
for controversial purposes,* or for confirming the purpose
of the monks.^ There is no evidence whatever that any
of the early hermits set out with the intention of imitating
these Old Testaraent saints. The influence of such ascetic
practices as can be quoted from the Old Testament lay
^ e.g. Conf., xviii, 6. ^ Adv. fovinian., ii.
•= Cass,, Inst., ii. 5; St. Jer., De Vir. Illustr., i. 11; and Soz.,
HE., i. 12.
^ As by St. Jerome. ' As by Cassian.

PRE-CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 267
solely in justifying, not at all in inspiring, Christian monas
ticism. The Abbot Piamun,! who quotes the examples of
Elijah and John the Baptist, recognises first that Paul and
St. Antony were the true founders of the anchorite life.
He only notes as an interesting historical paraUel the
resemblance of their way of life to that of Elijah. St.
Jerome quotes his long Ust of Old Testament ascetics for
controversial purposes. He is bent upon demonstrating
against Jovinianus that the ascetic life is dirinely recognised
as a superior one.
The question of the influence of the example set by the
Therapeutae, on the development of Christian monasticism,
is a more difficult one. The fathers who followed Eusebius
were under the impression that the Therapeutae were a very
early order of Christian monks. This, as we know, was
a mistake ; but it was a mistake which may have helped
towards the formation of Christian ascetic communities.
The conviction that the earliest converts of St. Mark in
Egypt were a community of monks and nuns would
certainly afford a powerful motive for imitation. It vvould,
however, be very easy to exaggerate the influence of this
mistake. The Therapeutae were gathered into an organised
community. The earliest Christian monks were not. What
ever, then, may have been the influence of the Therapeutae
over later Christian monasticism, they certainly did not
afford an example which St. Antony imitated. Again, the
Therapeutae included both men and women in the same
community. The earliest Christian monasteries were for
men only and women only, and intercourse between monks
and nuns was carefully and severely restricted.* Other
' Cass., Conf, xviii.
" The first who introduced double monasteries for both men and
women was St. Basil.

268 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
differences between the Jewish sect and the Christian
monks are so striking and numerous that it is impossible
to beUeve that the founders of the early monasteries tried
to reproduce the life described in the De Vit& Contemplivd.
The influence vvhich, through Eusebius' mistake, the example
of the Therapeutae exercised over Christian monasticism
must have been confined to its affording a comfortable
assurance that the monks really were returning to the
oldest apostolic Christian way of life.
The theory that Christian monasticism owes its origin to
the introduction of Neo-Platonic speculation into Christian
thought, I have already briefly discussed (chap. iii.). It
will be sufificient here to merely notice the following con
siderations : I. Neo-Platonism influenced Christian thought
through the writings of Origen. 2. Origen cannot be
thought of as having given its original impulse to the
monastic movement, because the earliest monks were not
the kind of men who speculated or philosophised. 3.
Origen's teaching did produce a certain kind of monas
ticism, that, for instance, of Hierakas ; but this monas
ticism did not contain any vital principle. It vanished,
vrithout influencing one way or the other the growth of
the really Christian systems of ascetic life. 4. Origen's
philosophy was used afterwards by apologists for Christian
monasticism. His arguments were repeated; his phrases
quoted. The titles vvhich he applied to the ascetic life
passed into general use.
I conceive Origen's Neo-Platonism to have played in the
history of Christian monasticism very much the part which
the philosophy of Diderot, D'Alembert, and J. J, Rousseau
did in the French Revolution. Monasticism and the
revolution were both great popular movements. Philo
sophies may prepare the way for such movements. They

PRE-CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 269
do not create them. If the French peasants had not been
half starved and more than half enslaved, the philosophy
of the eighteenth century might have quietly mouldered in
its encyclopedia. It vvas a thirst for vengeance and not
a philosophic admiration for its contents which led men to
bind Rousseau's book in the skins of aristocrats. The
men who worshipped the goddess of Reason upon a
Christian altar did so because their new deity seemed to
have justified the deeds that hunger and hatred prompted.
The connection between Christian Platonism and
monasticism is similar. Forgotten ascetics like Piereus
and Hierakas might have endeavoured to follow a philo
sophic way of life, but if there had not been in Christianity
a principle which drove men to the pursuit of perfect
righteousness, no philosophy could have peopled the
deserts with hermits or studded Europe with monastic
settiements. The most detailed and carefully worked-out attempt
to trace Christian monasticism to a foreign source is
Weingarten's theory that the early monks simply copied
the Uves of the "inclusi" of the Egyptian goddess Serapis.
The Ursprung des Monchtum and the article " Monchtum "
in the second edition of the P. R. E. contain the argu
ments on which Weingarten bases his theory. He has
been followed in his conclusions by one or two EngUsh
writers — as, for instance, Gwatkin and Farrar — but nothing
has been added in the way of evidence to what he originally
put forward.
He sets out vvith the assumption that monasticism was
unknown in the Church up the year 340 a.d. It may be
gathered from this statement that his whole scheme of
chronology is absolutely revolutionary. I am not incUned
to enter into a detailed criticism of it. The work has been

270 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
weU done, and Weingarten's fundamental assumption abso
lutely disproved by Zockler, Dom Butier, and others.
Weingarten's criticism of the value of the early works
bearing on Christian monasticism is as radical and as un
satisfactory as his chronology. He not only sweeps away
as worthless such works as the Vita Antonii and the
Lausiac History, but he ignores the homilies of Aphraat
and the whole cycle of Coptic monastic literature. I hope
to show (Appendix ii.) that recent criticism goes far to
establish the reliability of most of the sources of our
knowledge of early monasticism, and so need not open the
subject here.
A few words ought to be added with reference to the
constructive part of Weingarten's work. He beheves that
certain Egyptian peasants — on the point of the peasant
origin of monasticism Weingarten is defiriite — took it into
their heads to imitate the lives of the " inclusi " of Serapis.
They had no great temples into which they might build
themselves, so they adopted as an alternative retirement to
the wilderness.
It is perfectly true that these monks of Serapis really
existed. It is most likely that Christians knew about them
and were familiar with the esteem in which they were
generally held by the heathen people. It is possible that,
previous to conversion, some Christians — for instance, St.
Pachomius — may have come under the influence of the
priests of Serapis, and even served an apprenticeship to the
monasticism of the Serapeum. So far we can go with
Weingarten, but when he passes on to assume as quite
natural that Christians imitated this heathen life, we are
obliged to pause and ask : Why should they ? Is it a suffi
cient way of accounting for the existence of a practice in a
certain religion to demonstrate that it existed somewhere

PRE-CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 271
else before? I find it very difficult to believe that men
must imitate whatever they see others doing, whether
pleasant or unpleasant. If the monasticism of the
Serapeum had been a pleasant or a charming pagan
rite, it is intelligible enough that ignorant Christian
peasants might want to incorporate it into their religion.
When we are told, for instance, that a great deal of the
mediaeval saint - worship vvas merely pagan devotion to
local divinities, disguised with a thin veneer of Christianity,
we find no great obstacle to believing it. It was natural
enough that a population still half heathen should desire to
retain the quaint and picturesque devotions of their fathers.
But this matter of the severe asceticism of the monks of
Serapis is entirely different. Assuming — and the assump
tion underlies Weingarten's whole argument — that the
ascetic spirit is entirely absent from the original Christian
teaching, what was there to induce Christian peasants to
tum hermits? The impulse did not come, according to
AVeingarten, from the gospel. It is certainly not inherent
in the physical nature of man. He loves to lie soft and
warm and eat to the full.
AVeingarten faces this question honestly enough, but his
answer is amazingly unsatisfactory. The monks of Serapis,
he says, were greatly admired by the people. They were
fed by the offerings of the faithful. They did no work.
The Christian peasant also wished to be admired, to be
fed by other people, and to be lazy. Therefore the
Christian peasant set himself to imitate the monk of
Serapis and became a hermit.
The case of these hermits has been a hard one. On the
one side they are abused for their self-abasement and their
austerity. On the other side they are accused of vanity,
gluttony, and idleness. Indeed, Weingarten himself brings

272 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
both charges against them, apparently without realising that
they are mutually destructive.
It is only by excluding from consideration all the docu
ments from which vve derive our knowledge of the early
monks that it is possible to entertain such an estimate of
their character. The true answer to such a theory is simply
to look at the facts of the case. The Vita A7itonii, the
Lausiac History, and the rest, do not record the lives of
vain, selfish, lazy men. The heroes of early monasticism
may have been fools, but at least they were fools who gave
all that men can give and gained nothing that most men
care to gain. If they were applauded, they never heard the
applause. They fled from the breath of it, as from a
plague. Altogether apart from the character of the men, is it
likely that early monasticism was half pagan? And yet,
on Weingarten's hypothesis, this is what it must have been,
since it was an importation into Christianity not only of
practices, but of a great principle which was altogether
foreign to the gospel. The early monks were enthusiastic
missionaries. They even attacked paganism fiercely and
fanatically. Can they have been at the same time in full
sympathy vrith a purely pagan ideal ?
To the student who has determined to view history
largely, and to regard facts apart from any party stand
point, there is something profoundly disquieting in the
various attempts to trace back monasticism to some strange
influence foreign to the gospel. The Church in history has
been bound up with monasticism. There are periods when .
but for the monks spirituality would have died out of the
Church; when it seems as if, but for the monks, Chris
tianity itself, even the name of it, vvould have vanished.

PRE-CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 273
The faith has been propagated mainly by monks. Very
much of the good that the Church has effected has been
through monasticism. If monasticism be indeed based on
some heathen addition to the spirit of the gospel, a doubt
wUl inevitably take hold upon the mind. Christianity owes
much to this heathen addition to the original faith of the
gospeL Then the gospel cannot be what we beUeved it,
the one complete and self-sufficient revelation of the will
of God. It has required the help of this spirit of asceticism
to maintain its place and its growth in the world. It has
needed to be supplemented from without — from India,
from Greece, from Egypt, it matters not whence the
addition came. The course of history shows that monas
ticism was useful to the Church, nay, necessary to the
Church. Yet it is not of the gospel. The conclusion is
most disquieting. The gospel is therefore only a fragment
of a revelation scattered among all nations everywhere. It
may contain a Uttle good, much good, more good than any
other religious teaching, but since it needs to borrow, it
does not contain all good. So its claim to be the perfect
revelation fails.

APPENDIX II
ON THE VALUE OF THE SOURCES OF EARLY
EGYPTIAN MONASTIC HISTORY MADE USE
OF IN CHAPTERS IV. AND V.
OUR knowledge of fourth-century Egyptian monasti
cism is derived mainly from the following sources : —
I. The Vita A7itonii, attributed to St. Ajthanasius.
II. The Historia Monachorum, attributed to Rufinus.
III. The Lausiac History of Palladius.
IV. The Conferences of Cassian.
V. The various collections of Apophthegmata Patrum.
All these works have been published in Latin with valu
able notes and prolegomena by Rosweyd, in his Vitae
Patni77i. Most of thero are to be found in volumes 73
and 74 of Migne's Patrologia Latina. English translations
of the Vita Antonii and of Cassian's Conferences have
been published in the Library of Nicene and Post-Nicene
Fathers. Every one of these works has excited grave
critical distrust, and it has seemed to me necessary to
append to my chapter on St Antony and his disciples a
short summary of recent criticism, adding occasionally
considerations which seem to me to be of weight in deter
mining their value as sources of history.
I. First in the date of its composition and in the date of
274

SOURCES OF MONASTIC HISTORY 275
the events with which it deals, comes the Vita Antonii. It
is a matter of primary importance to determine whether
this work is to be regarded as history or romance.
A. If we were sure that St. Athanasius was the author,
we should at once, I think, have a strong argument in
favour of the historicity of the work. Now the external
evidence of the Athanasian authorship is remarkably
strong. A translation vvas made of it during the lifetime
of Athanasius by Evagrius, a Eustathian presbyter. Ephrem
Syrus,! ^yjjo ^jjg^j jjj ^73, attributes the Vita to Athanasius.
So does Gregory Nazian* in 380, and Rufinus* in 400.
In the fifth century there is a steady tradition of the
Athanasian authorship. A convincing summary of this
extemal eridence has been compiled by Dr. Archibald
Robertson, and printed in the Introduction to his transla
tion of the Vita. Among recent critics, Zockler* and Dom
Cuthbert Butler^ decide in favour of the Athanasian author
ship. B. Even if we remain undecided on the question of the
authorship of the book, we may still be led by considera
tion of the narrative itself to settle whether we are to
regard it as history or romance.
I. There are several examples of Christian romances
written with the intention of recommending and glorifying
monasticism. For instance, St. Jerome's Vita Pauli must
be regarded as such a romance, although very probably it
had as a foundation a real Paul. St. Jerome does not
seem to claim more for his book than that it had a
' opp., ed. 1732-43) '• P- 249-
^ Or., 21, S-
= Rufinus, H.E., i. 8.
* Askese und Monchtutn, pp. i88 and ff.
' Prolegomena to Hist. Laus., 226-7.

276 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
foundation in fact Amelineau has pubUshed another such
romance under the title. Voyage d'un tnoine egyptien dans le
desert. The author Paphnutius seems to have been a
prohfic writer of romances.! Here, again, I am inclined to
think that at least that portion of the romance published
in Rosweyd, under the name Vita Onuphrii, had a soUd
foundation in fact. Is the Vita Antonii to be placed in
the same category as works like these ? To do so would,
it seems to me, be impossible for a literary critic. Anyone
who reads the Vita Pauli and then the Vita Antonii
cannot fail to be struck by the absolutely different literary
flavour of the works. There is in St. Jerome's work a
recognisable effort after dramatic effect, and a deliberate
appreciation of the picturesque, which is entirely absent
from the Vita Antonii. I can quite imagine that the
ordinary patron of a circulating library Vould find the
Vita Pauli an interesting story, and . lay down the Vita
Antonii as extremely dull. The two resemble each other
no more than Woodstock does the Memoirs of Colonel
Hutchinson. 2. Nor is the distinction between them that which
separates a good from a bad novel. If the Vita Antonii
is a novel at all, it is a remarkably good novel, for it
portrays a very many-sided, and at the same time a per
fectly self-consistent character. I have already pointed out
(chap, iv.) the remarkable balance of the saint's character.
A novelist especially a novelist with a purpose, would
almost certainly have emphasised the enthusiasm of his
hero to the exclusion of his less dramatic moderation.
For a fuU and able discussion of the character of St.
Antony I refer the reader to Newman's two essays in the
' Amelineau,. Contes et Romans de CLgypt Chritienne, Introduc
tion, p. xl.

SOURCES OF MONASTIC HISTORY 277
Church of the Fathers. Any elaboration on my part of
the argument I indicate would merely result in a repetition
of what he has said.
3. Dom Cuthbert Butler, in his Prolegomena to the Lausiac
History, has published a collection of testimonies to the
reality of St. Antony from sources independent of the Vita.
It is wholly impossible to suppose that the hero of a novel,
however splendidly conceived, could have so impressed the
minds of the next generation as to induce men to regard
him as a real person.
4. The stories which are told elsewhere of St. Antony's
sayings and doings are consistent with the character drawn
in the Vita. The Antony of the Vita is the same man as
the Antony who emerges here and there in the Apophtheg
mata as the author of an aphorism or the teacher of a
truth. II. The Historia Monachorum is the account of a tour
made through the monastic settlements in Egypt in the
years 394-5 by a party of seven, one of whom is the writer
of the book. It has been traditionally attributed to
Rufinus, but there are good reasons for doubting that he
was the author. Three theories about the authorship have
recently been put forward.
I. Preuschen {Palladius u. Rufinus') supposes that the
book was originally written in Latin by Rufinus in or about
the year 405. Rufinus was in Egypt in 375, and again in
385, but, as Tillemont points out he cannot have been
there in 394. Preuschen supposes that, working upon his
recollections of the monks he knew during his visits to
Egypt, he set himself to construct the conditions which
prevailed ten or twenty years later. It seems natural to ask
why, if Rufinus wanted to describe the monks at any par
ticular fixed date, he settied upon 394 in preference to any

278 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
other ? It certainly seems an arbitrary and rather senseless
thing for a man to do.
2. Zockler {Askese u. Monchtum)^ has revrived the theory,
originally put forward by Tillemont that the journey was
actually made by Petronius, who furnished Rufinus with
the notes of his recollections. These notes Rufinus, with
the help of the lost writings of Timotheus of Alexandria,
worked up into the Historia which we possess.
3. Dom Cuthbert Butler, in his Prolegomena to the
Lausiac History,"^ argues that the original language of the
book is Greek, and not Latin. He regards Rufinus as
the translator, and not the author. It seems to me that
he has proved this point If so, the hypotheses of
Preuschen and Tillemont become inadmissible, and we
are thrown back upon the supposition that the journey
was made by a party of Greek-speaking tourists, of whom
we know nothing. Butler suggests* that one of them, and
he the author of the book, was Timotheus, Archdeacon of
Alexandria. He calls this a " mere conjecture," and adds
that he attaches no importance to it. It is certainly a very
brilliant suggestion, and serves to explain* the clearly
erroneous statement of Sozomen, that the author of the
Historia was Timotheus, the Archbishop of Alexandria.
On any of the three theories the Historia Monachorum
must be regarded as substantially a reliable first-hand
account of the men and times it describes. Zockler ^
is most careful to emphasise its freshness and the obrious
traces of personal observation which abound in it. The
net result of recent criticism has been to entirely justify
the use of this work as a source of monastic history.
III. With regard to the Lausiac History of PaUadius,
' pp. 212 and ff. 2 pp. 257 and ff.
» As above, p, 276. ^ H.E., vi. 29. ' As before.

SOURCES OF MONASTIC HISTORY 279
I am not inclined to quote any criticism earlier than that of
Dom Cuthbert Butler. All other criticism is based on the
supposition that the work ordinarily known as the Lausiac
History, and printed under this title in Rosweyd (Book viii.),
is to be treated as what Zockler calls the "canonical
Palladius." This work contains a great deal of the same
matter as the Historia Monachorum, and is confused and
inconsistent in the accounts it gives of some of the monks.
Butler advances the theory that this book is in reality the
work of a compiler who blended together, often unskilfully,
the original work of Palladius and the Historia Monachorum.
The real work of Palladius, according to this theory, is
what has been long known as the Paradisus Heraclidis,
which other critics, e.g. Zockler, imagined to be a con
densed edition of the History. It would be impertment,
as weU as unnecessary, for me to attempt to give a summary
of the arguments with which Butler supports his theory.
I merely wish to add that I accept his reasoning as con
clusive, and recognise here, as in the case of the Historia
Monachorum, the debt which all students of monastic
origins owe to his brilliant scholarship.
On the whole, it is probable that no critic, unless, Uke
Weingarten, he was anxious to support a preconceived
theory of monastic origins, would have hesitated to recog
nise the historicity of these three works were it not for one
great objection which applies to all of them. They all
relate miraculous events. Two of them, the Historia
Monachorum and the Lausiac Histoiy, abound in miracles
of the most startling kind. This is the real ground for the
general distrust of these works. I think it is an objection
which must be fairly faced.
It seems to me quite useless to attempt to minimise or
explain the miracles in the Historia Monachorum or the

2So CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Lausiac History. A careful criticism of the text may
succeed in getting rid of a few. The advance of scientific
knowledge of obscure or pathological mental phenomena
may teach us to recognise as natural many cases of rision
and clairvoyance. But when aU that can possibly be
expected has been done along these lines, there will
remain untouched a solid substratum of inexplicable
miracles. Nor does it seem altogether to the point to
claim that all history is more or less built upon documents
which relate miracles. This may be true, and it is fair
enough to compare the Vita Antonii with, for instance,
Gregory the Great's Life of St. Benedict, and to insist
that, so far as the miraculous elements in them are con
cerned, the two biographies must stand or fall together.
But the case is different with the other two books under
discussion. I do not know any other- bPoks, recognised
as trustworthy sources of history, which can compare with
the Historia Monachorum and the Lausiac History in the
number and surprising nature of the miracles related. Are
we bound, then, on account of their miracles to relegate
these two works to the region of fairy tales ? This is what
Weingarten does. I believe it to be a wholly unphiloso-
phical proceeding. To dismiss a work written in Egypt
at the beginning of the fifth century as unhistorical because
it fails to satisfy the cross-examination of a modern Euro
pean is really no less absurd than it vvould be to take
a Central African negro potentate into a London drawing-
room, and then decide that he cannot be a king in his own
country because he does not behave himself in society
as Edward VII. does. Regard must be had to the pur
pose, time, and place of writing before we venture to
pronounce upon the worth of a book.
Egypt in the fourth and fifth centuries was the home

SOURCES OF MONASTIC HISTORY 281
of miracle and romance. When we read the native Coptic
biographies, Uke the Life of Schnoudi, by his disciple Visa,
the miracles of the histories we are discussing pale into
insignificance. The Coptic writer positively revels in the
miraculous. The miracle itself may be grotesque, the cir
cumstances which occasion it utterly unworthy of a special
intervention of Providence, but the narrator never hesitates.
He plunges boldly on, and if one miracle will not achieve
the object he has in view, he adds more with a Uberal
hand. Amelineau,! who is probably the greatest modem
authority on Christian Egypt, writes of Coptic literature : —
"En Orient quand on fait si bien que d'ajouter foi aux
recits merveilleux, ce qui ne manque jamais d'arriver, on
le fait sans aucun restriction; la raison disparait com-
pMtement ; en Occident au contraire, meme dans les recits
le plus extraordinaires, la raison n'abdique pas son entibre
independence et fait quelque restriction, soit dans certaines
explications, soit dans certaines circonstances du recit La
raison en est que nous suivons le recit, et que nous ne le
devancons pas, comme on le fait en Orient. En Occident
Tannonce du merveilleux nous mets de suite sur nos gardes ;
en Orient le simple enonce d'un fait sans la moindre de
ses circonstances miraculeuses, fait pamer d'aise tous les
auditeurs. II nous faut des raisons pour admettre un
mhacle ; pour eux, etant admis que Dieu est tout-puissant
U n'y a plus aucune raison de douter que tel ou tel fait
prodigieux ait eu lieu."
Now Palladius and the author of the Historia Mona
chorum ytere not Copts, which accounts for their com
parative economy in the matter of miracles — an economy
comparative to the genuine extravagance, for instance, of
Visa. They were, however, in full sympathy with the
' Introduction to Vit. de Sdmoudi, pp, 60, 61,

282 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
Coptic monks among whom they resided. They listened
to the stories the monks told them. They admired and
venerated the tellers. They appreciated the moral miracles
of the lives they saw, until the physical miracles ceased to
be, if they ever were, incredible. They lingered amid the
soUtary rocks and barren wastes, where God was all and
the world outside forgotten. They learned to watch for
the subtle snares of fiends and to listen for the dirine
voice, until aU the vast system of accustomed things to
whose unaltering sequence we have given the name of law
seemed nothing to them They expected miracles, and
they beheld miracles. We cannot wonder. What else
should we expect? So far, then, from the presence of
the miraculous in these narratives being a reason for
accounting them spurious — romances, fairy tales — we may
fairly say that the absence of the miraculous would be
a reason for rejecting them. An account of the Egyptian
monks, containing no miracles, would, if such a thing
existed, have to be reckoned as the product of some
later age, some other land, or at best of some quite un
sympathetic mind. Our histories may be reckoned genuine,
what they profess to be, the work of men who knew and
loved the desert fathers, chiefly because they faithfully
reflect the spirit of the Coptic Christian. The truly
philosophic critic wiU be ready to study and learn from
these works because, and not in spite of, the profusion
of miracles they contain.
IV. Cassian's Conferences profess to be the record of a
series of interviews which Cassian had with monks in Lower
Egypt especially those of the Nile Delta. It is a work of
a different kind from the Historia Monachorum or the
Lausiac History. We miss at once the fresh spontaneity
of the former works. There is evidence of literary effort

SOURCES OF MONASTIC HISTORY 283
of careful classification, and here and there of a desire to
support a special set of theological opinions vrith the
authority of the Egyptian saints. At the same time, the
artificiality of the work is not such as would lead us to
regard the whole as an effort of literary imagination.
Certain scenes have so impressed themselves upon the
writer's memory that he is able even after a lapse of years
to relate them in vivid detail. The weird descriptions of
scenery in the Nile Delta can only come from the pen of
one who had gazed on what he describes. The arrange
ment and classification vvhich form so striking a contrast
to the undigested memoranda of Palladius are no more
than we might expect in a book of travels written by a
man of literary talent Nor can the Pelagian language of
the thirteenth conference be urged against the reality of the
interview described. The language may be that of the
controversy, while the sentiments were really those of the
Lower Egyptian monks. There are anecdotes of monks
which could scarcely have been invented by anyone un
familiar vvith Egyptian monasticism. On the whole, we
may safely accept the opinion of Dr. Gibson, in the Intro
duction to his English translation of the Conferences, that
the work gives us a substantially true picture of the life it
professes to describe. We may supplement this judgment ,
with the remark of Zockler,! that the Conferences are
valuable for the light they throw upon the spirit of the \
movement rather than for the information they give about,'
its external history.
V. The Apophthegmata Patru7n consist of a number of
isolated anecdotes and aphorisms, some bearing the names
of well-known Egyptian fathers, and some anonymous.
Weingarten* regards them as the composition of a Greek
' As above, ^ Der Ursprung des Monchtums.

284 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
author of a later century. This is almost manifestly an
absurd position and the result of his unfortunate prejudice
against the monks. Zockler! dismisses them vrith a brief
but suggestive note as a late and in some parts apocryphal
compilation, but one possessing individual points of in
terest, Dom Butler* makes an investigation which leads
him to the following conclusions : —
I. Apophthegmata were current in Egypt as isolated anec
dotes during the second half of the fourth century.
2. Groups of these were in process of formation during
the first half of the fifth century.
3, Great collections of them were made towards the
close of the fifth century.
He concludes : " Without for a moment questioning that
there are apocryphal additions, I believe that on the whole
the Apophthegmata are substantially genuine, and represent
the ideas and the teaching of those to whom they are
attributed, and that therefore they are a true record of
Egyptian monachism."
I do not see how anyone can doubt that this is in the
main a tme account of the origin of these collections, un
less, indeed, a man who is so convinced of the degradation
of Egyptian monasticism that he cannot think of its pro
ducing works of such spiritual beauty. I do not however,
Understand why it is necessary to fix the beginnings of the
circulation of isolated anecdotes at the middle of the
fourth century. From what we know of the habits of the
hermits and monks, it seems probable that as soon as they
had any intercourse with each other they related stories of
the sayings and doings of favourite heroes. It is not
^ As above. 8 As above, pp. 213, 314,

SOURCES OF MONASTIC HISTORY 285
likely, for instance, that none of the anecdotes about St.
Antony were related untU after his death. On the contrary,
certainly most of these, and probably others among those
now anonymous, were in circulation during the first half of
the fourth century. For the determination of the age of
any particular anecdote we are, of course, thrown back
upon such evidence as is afforded by its contents. This is
certainly not satisfactory, and yet it is possible that here
and there scraps of information may be unearthed about
the oldest and darkest period of the movement It is this
possibility which gives the Apophthegmata a quite unique
value to the historical student. It is possible through them
to penetrate to the ideas of a period of vvhich Palladius
and the Historia Monachorum know nothing. I ventured
in chapter iv. to use one of these anecdotes to iUustrate the
isolation of the earUest hermits from the Church. I may
perhaps be permitted to instance this particular case as an
iUustration ofthe possibiUty of fixing the date of some of the
Apophthegmata. It seems clear to me that a story which
represents a solitary as tempted by the devil to receive the
sacrament cannot have been the invention of a fifth-century
writer. It cannot even belong to the period when the
monks were accepting ordination and building churches.
It must come to us from the first forty years of the fourth
century. I have no doubt that the story as we have it has
been added to and worked up. No one who has read
Amelineau's description of the ways of Egyptian copyists
will be surprised at any additions to an original which
seemed bald and incomplete. The stress of the whole
anecdote, however, falls upon the account of the diaboUc
temptation. The very fact of the Uterary completeness of
the narrative as we have it seems a further witness to the
early date of the original germ. It takes time for narrators

286 CHRioxiAiN muiN/ibllGlbM
and copyists to add and enlarge. A certain antiquity is
presupposed when they do so boldly.
Amelineau,! in an investigation of the origin of the
Apophthegmata which Butler seems to have overlooked,
points out the interesting fact that these coUections deal
only* with monks of Lower and Middle Egypt He charac
terises them as a kind of family register of the Scetic and
Nitrian monasteries. This observation seems to me to
militate against his theory of their having been originally
written in Coptic. Had the collections been made by
Copts in the Coptic language, they could scarcely have
failed to embody some of the anecdotes of Schnoudi,
which were in circulation in his Coptic biography before
the end of the fifth century. Amelineau is in substantial
agreement vvith Butler as to the date of the formation of
the great collections of Apophthegmata.
I have been tempted to dwell rather longer on the
criticism of these collections than on the other authorities
for the period, partly because they have been less investi
gated than the others, and partly because I am conscious
of having been greatly influenced by them in the judgment
I have formed of the Egyptian ascetics. I am of opinion
that they must be used, where they are anonymous, with
very great caution, and are probably seldom of value for
the investigation of facts ; but I believe that they faithfully
reflect the ideas of the fifth century, the last half of the
fourth, and occasionally give us glimpses of the spirit of
the very earliest period of the Egyptian monastic move
ment 1 Vie de Schnoudi, Preface, pp. 13, 14.
- Amelineau says: " Tous ceux dont les noms sont entour^s de gloire
ou simplement cites avec honneur sont des moinSs ayant vecu dans
I'Egypte moyenne et dans la Basse-Egypte." This is not strictly true.
There are some anecdotes of Syrian monks.

APPENDIX III
THE HISTORY AND MEANING OF THE PATRISTIC
DISTINCTION BETWEEN COUNSELS AND PRECEPTS
THOMAS AQUINAS! describes the difference between
a counsel of perfection and an obligatory precept in
these words : "A precept impUes obligation. A counsel is
left optional to the person to whom it is given. Thus in
the new law, which is a law of Uberty, counsels are given
in addition to precepts. This is not so in the old law,
which is a law of servitude. It is necessary, therefore, to
understand that the precepts of the new law refer to such
things as are necessary for the attainment of eternal beati
tude; whereas the counsels have to do with the things
through which man better and more swiftly achieves that
end." The precepts of the gospel are the simple laws of religion
and morality — such as those which forbid murder, theft,
and adultery. The counsels are suggestions of ways of
devotion beyond the moral law — such as voluntary poverty
and deUberate virginity. It is clear that the theoretical
justification of the monastic life rests upon the validity of
this distinction. It is not necessary that the monk himself
should make the distinction, or even recognise it. It is
not to be found at all frequently in early monastic litera-
' Summa, ii, I.
287

288 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
ture. It is rather to be sought in the writings of men who
looked upon the movement with sympathy, and desired to
justify it to the Church.
I propose here to trace in outline the history of the
distinction through the literature of the first four centuries,
and then to discover, if possible, what the early fathers
meant by it and how they came to make it.
In the Shepherd of Hermas we find the germ of the
distinction in the following passages : " There is no sin
in marrying again, but if they remain unmarried they gain
greater honour and glory with the Lord."! "If you do
any good beyond what is commanded by God, you will
gain for yourself more abundant glory, and will be more
honoured by God than you would otherwise be,"*
By Tertullian the distinction is worked out in greater
detail: "There is no place at all where we read that
nuptials are prohibited; of course, on the ground that
they are good. What, however, is better than this ' good '
we learn from the apostle, vvho permits marriage indeed,
but prefers abstinence."* "The apostle, with regard to
widows and the unmarried, advises them to remain per
manently in that state ; but touching marrying in the Lord
he no longer adrises, but bids. Therefore, in this case, if
we do not obey, we run a risk, because one may with more
impunity neglect an ' advice ' than an ' order ' ; in that the
former springs from counsel and is proposed to the will;
the other descends from authority, and is bound to neces
sity. In the former case, to disregard appears liberty, in
the latter contumacy."* "Those who have come to the
knowledge of sanctity {i.e. virginity) pursue it and prefer it
without detriment to marriage; not as if we superseded a
' Mand. , iv. 4. - Sim. , v. 3,
' Adux., i. 3. * Ibid., ii. i.

COUNSELS AND PRECEPTS 289
bad thing by a good, but only a good thing by a better.
For we do not reject marriage, but simply abstain from it"!
With these passages we may compare De Monog., 11, and
De Pudic, 16,
St Cyprian repeats the distinction almost in the language
of Tertullian : " Nor does the Lord command this {i.e.
virginity), but He exhorts it; nor does He impose the
yoke of necessity, since the free choice of the will is left.
But when He says that in His Father's house are many
mansions, He points out the dwellings of a better habita
tion."* St. Cyprian has just before referred to our Lord's
words in St Matthew xix. 11.
In Origen's teaching a new idea on the subject is intro
duced and a new passage of Scripture referred to : " As
long as anyone does only what is his duty, that is, the
things which are commanded {praecepta), he is an un
profitable servant. But if you add anything to the pre
cepts, then you are no longer an unprofitable servant"*
In the pseudo-Clementine epistles on rirginity we have
a return to the thought of Hermas : " He will give to
virgins a notable place in the kingdom of God, better
than the place of those who have passed a wedded life in
sanctity."* Methodius refers to the teaching of St. Paul's first
Epistle to the Corinthians, and teaches, as Tertullian does,
the lawfulness of marriage, but the superior sanctity of the
vnrgin state.^
St. Ambrose still further develops the idea of counsels
as distinct from precepts, and is, I believe, the first to quote
in this connection a passage of Scripture which has since
1 Adv. Marc, i. 29. "^ De habit. Virg., 23.
3 Rom. iii. 3. * Ep. ad Virg., i, 4,
' Conviv., iii. 13 and 14,

290 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
become the standard quotation : ! " An office * is either
common or perfect which we can with justice prove from
the authority of the Scriptures. For we read in the gospel
that the Lord said, 'If thou wilt enter into life, keep the
commandments,' And he said, 'What?' Jesus said to
him, 'Thou shalt do no murder, thou shalt not commit
adultery,' etc. These are common offices, to vvhich some
thing is wanting. Then the young man said to Him, 'All
these I have kept from my youth up. What lack I yet ? '
Jesus says to him, ' Go and sell all that thou hast and give
to the poor,'" St. Ambrose then mentions certain other
counsels from the Sermon on the Mount, and adds : " This,
therefore, is a perfect office," Elsewhere he says :* "Where
there is precept there is law. Where there is counsel there
is grace. A precept recalls to nature. A counsel spurs
towards grace." Further on in the same chapter he
develops the thought of Origen : " So they who have
fulfilled a precept may say, We are unprofitable servants.
We have done that which we ought to have done. But
this the virgin does not say, nor does he who has sold his
goods; but as he vvho expects a reward laid up for him,
like the holy apostle, he says, 'Lo, we have left all and
followed Thee; what shall we have therefore?' Not like
the unprofitable servant does he say that he has done that
which he ought. But as a servant useful to his Lord, who
has multiplied the talents committed to him by usury, he
securely waits for his reward. And so the Lord says to
him and to the others, 'You who have followed Me shall
sit upon twelve thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.' "
' DeOff., i, II.
^ The Latin is "officium,'' which I find it impossible here to trans
late ; "common " is a rendering of " medium."
•¦ De Vid., xii.

COUNSELS AND PRECEPTS 291
St Augustine recognises the distinction, but adds nothing
to its explanation, where he says: "Wherefore aU God's
commandments — one of which is, ' Thou shalt not commit
adultery ' — and all those precepts which are not command
ments, but special counsels — one of which is, ' It is good
for a man not to touch a woman ' — are rightly carried out
only when the motive principle of action is the love of
God and the love of our neighbour in God."!
St, Jerome, as might be expected, states the distinction
vigorously and definitely.* " Do not marvel, then, if, placed
as we are amid temptations of the flesh and incentives to
vice, the angelic life be not exacted of us, but merely
recommended. If advice is given, a man is free to proffer
obedience. If there be a commandment he is a servant,
and bound to compliance. Christ loves virgins more than
others, because they willingly give what was not com
manded them."
I have no doubt that many more passages, similar in
sense, might be cited from the Christian writers of the first
four centuries. The few which I have quoted will, how
ever, afford sufficient material for determining what the
early fathers meant by their distinction between counsels
and precepts, and how they came to make it.
We notice everywhere a recognition of two kinds of
Christian life, two separate ways in which men follow the
Gospel teaching. Next it is recognised that one of these
ways is higher, completer, more glorious than the other,
and inherits a specially great reward. Thirdly, that a man
is free, without actuaUy imperiUing his ultimate salvation,
to choose the higher way or the lower, from which it
foUows necessarily that he who chooses the higher does
more than is absolutely commanded of him. There is
J Enchir., 121. ^ Adv.fovin., i, 12.

292 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
nothing more than these three points involved in the
distinction. Of these three, the first that there are two ways of
following the gospel teaching, is a matter of observed fact.
The second, that one way is higher than the other, is a
moral judgment pronounced upon the facts observed. The
third, that the choice of either is free, is a thought about
the facts. It is the result which reasoning minds arrived at
in the effort to co-ordinate and systematise the things
observed. (i) I propose first to discuss whether or not the fact on
which the reasoning worked was well observed. In other
words, whether there are in reality two distinct kinds of
Christian life, not shading off into each other, but separate
absolutely as well as in degree. There can be no better or
more familiar ground to work over than the narratives of
the four gospels. Let us take (<x), then, the question of
marriage and virginity. It is clear that there is here
no question of degree, of shading off. A man is either
married or he is not Christ, in the gospel, sanctioned
and sanctified marriage. He blessed with His presence
the marriage feast at Cana of Galilee. He uses, with
reference to the marriage tie, words which imply the
highest sanction, "Those whom God hath joined to
gether, let not man put asunder." But He also speaks
of some who, for the sake of the kingdom of heaven and
for His sake, will do violence to their physical nature in
refusing the marriage relationship (St. Matt. xix. ii), and
intimates that a man may be in such a position as to hate
wife and children for His sake. He Himself led a virgin
life, and a literal following of His example would therefore
involve celibacy. In this matter, then, the Christian writers
observed their facts correctly. There were sanctioned by

COUNSELS AND PRECEPTS 293
Christ these two ways of following Him, the way of the
married Ufe and the way of the virgin life, and that not
the result of circumstance, such as the absence of passion
or desire, but a frait of self-conquest
(/3) Then there is the question of the possession of
property, as opposed to voluntary poverty. On the one
hand, we read of rich men who were the Lord's disciples.
Joseph of Arimathea was a rich man, and to him was com
mitted the sacred task of burying the crucified body of
the Lord. Zacchaeus was a man of considerable property,
and he kept it after salvation had come to his house,
although he cleared himself of dishonesty and purged his
soul of greed by a great beneficence. On the other hand,
St Matthew, another publican, " rose up, left all " — money
and the means of making money — in order to follow
Jesus ; and there was one whom the Lord desired to seU
all that he had and give to the poor. Poverty and riches
are, of course, comparative terms. There are degrees of
poverty and degrees of riches, but the absolute poverty
of a man who leaves all, or seUs all and gives the proceeds
away, is something different in kind from even the deepest
poverty through which a man yet clings to what little he
can call his own. Here, then, again there are two distinct
ways of following Christ.
(7) There are in the Sermon on the Mount these words,
" Resist not evU." Ascetics, such as the Quakers, for in
stance, or Tolstoi, take these words literally, as, indeed,
they must be taken if all meaning is not to be explained
out of them. Taken thus, they necessitate the condemna
tion of the life of the soldier and the magistrate as neces
sarily unchristian. A soldier's business in Ufe, at its best
is to resist evU. This is the highest and holiest work he
can expect to be given in the course of his duties. A

294 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
magistrate exists for the purpose of resisting and suppress
ing evil in the name of society. Therefore Tolstoi is per
fectly consistent and logical in saying that a man can't be
both a soldier and a Christian, cannot at the same time be
a magistrate and an imitator of Christ. Yet in the course
of His life Christ came into contact vvith both a soldier
and a magistrate, and He condemned neither on account
of his profession. On the contrary, He says of the soldier
words of the highest praise, "I have not found so great
faith, no, not in Israel." It was, then, possible to earn the
Lord's commendation as a soldier. It was certainly pos
sible to earn it by literal obedience to the words of the
Sermon on the Mount.
We know that what existed in our Lord's time existed
afterwards. There were married Christians, and Christians
who abstained from marriage. There were^rich Christians,
and there were those who, like Origen and St. Cyprian,
renounced their property. We may assume that vvhat the
Lord sanctioned during His life He sanctioned afterwards,
and that it is in accordance vvith His will that there are
these two different ways of following Him.
(2) So far we are dealing simply with fact. The fathers
who wrote about counsels and precepts observed the facts.
But man cannot rest content with simple observation.
He is forced by his very nature to pronounce moral judg
ments upon them. This the fathers did when they called
one life higher and the other lower, when they said that
one was good and. the other better. In doing so they
conceived themselves, as we see by their quotations, to be
following the doctrine of St. Paul. In reality I conceive
that both they and St. Paul were following a deeply im
planted instinct of human nature. A man may reason
himself into quite opposite conclusions, byt he will con-

COUNSELS AND PRECEPTS 295
tinue always to admire most the greatest self-sacrifice.
This becomes clear if we take an example outside the
region of reUgious controversy. A certain sergeant in the
army remains, during the whole course of a long war, at
his regimental depot. He drills recraits. This is the
work he has been given to do by his commanding officer.
It is his duty. Never once does he do without his dinner,
or his comfortable night's sleep. Another sergeant is sent
to the front He endures hunger, fatigue, and sleepless
ness. Finally, he sacrifices his life to save the honour of
the army, or at some crucial moment to turn defeat into
a victory. He also is where he is sent His opportunity
came to him in the course of duty. The other got no such
opportunity, though he, too, did his duty. If we merely
reason on the Uves of these two men, we find it hard to
distinguish between them. Nevertheless, we honour the
one, and never think of the other. To the one our poets
dedicate odes. We buUd him memorials in our churches.
We teach our children to call him great. The other is
buried after a while and forgotten. Why? Because
human nature, being what it is, we cannot help ourselves.
We must pay the greater honour to the life of greater
sacrifice. The fathers foUowed the same instinct when they called
the ascetic life a higher life. Indeed, they had more
justification than the world has for its judgments, for all
foUovring of Christ involves some self-sacrifice, and it
seems obvious that a greater sacrifice is a sign of worthier
service. That the fathers should also have beUeved that the
greater heavenly reward fell to those who lived the greater
Uves on earth is very natural The New Testament
teaches that there are different degrees of reward, as there

296 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
are different severities of punishment It is not possible
to conceive of their being given otherwise than in pro
portion to the greatness of the earthly life.
So far, then, the thought of the early Church on this
subject is so entirely natural that it is hard to conceive
of anyone thinking othervrise. The judgment which called
the ascetic life the higher was not so much the result of
any reasoning as the simple e.xpression of a general feeling.
Granted a Christian consciousness working upon facts as
they were, and the result was inevitable.
(3) It is the third point in the teaching of the fathers
which is the heart of the matter. Granted, and one can
hardly help granting, the fact that there are two ways of
living the Christian life ; granted that we cannot avoid
calling the one Ufe higher, that is completer than the other
— it remains to ask whether men in gefieral or whether
particular individuals have free choice of the two ways.
The early Church said that the choice was free. A Chris
tian without actual sin may refuse the life of virginity or
the life of voluntary poverty, even when they have been
presented to him. Here, again, the thought of the fathers
is entirely natural. It is exactly the opinion which we
should expect men to hold. The facts before the eyes
of men were such as these. Here is a Christian, who is
a husband and a father, who holds a great property, and
is rich. He is loving, reverent pure, charitable. He is
undeniably and really a follower of Christ. Here also is
St. Antony. He might have been rich too, but he gave
his property away. He might have known the joys of
human love and fatherhood, but instead he lives wifeless,
chUdless, homeless, in a desert cave. He, too, is un
deniably a Christian. It seems very obvious that St.
Antony had before him a choice of ways, and chose the

COUNSELS AND PRECEPTS 297
harder. He would not have sinned if he had kept his
property. He would not have sinned if he had married.
He might doubtless would, as a landlord and a father
have been a good man. He preferred to be better than
good. This is the way the fathers thought about these
facts. Whether it is a right or wrong way, we cannot deny
that it is an extremely simple and natural way. Indeed, it
is so natural that hardly anyone thought otherwise until
after the Protestant Reformation.
Protestants, owing to the exigencies of their controversial
position, were forced to reject this natural Une of thought.
The whole teaching of the Church about counsels and
precepts was passed under review. It was felt to be an
undeniable fact that there were two ways along which men
lived as Christians. The judgment about higher or lower
was felt to be unimportant and perhaps inevitable. The
point fixed upion for dispute was this question, whether or
not a man had a choice of two ways. For instance,
Protestants gladly recognised the merchant who grew rich
honestly and spent his riches charitably, as a Christian.
They recognised also that a missionary who gathered no
wealth in life, who Uved in hardship and perhaps died a
martyr, was also a Christian. They probably feU, even
when they did not say, that he was a greater kind of
Christian than the merchant. At this point the Protestant
controversialist breaks away from the teaching of the
fathers. Neither the merchant nor the missionary, so the
new thought ran, had any choice. God placed the mer
chant in his shop. God bid him be diligent, honest, and
charitable. He did his duty and no less when he lived the
life God set before him in the best way possible. God also
bid the missionary give up the prospect of being rich and
comfortable. God bid him go forth into heathen lands.
u 2

298 CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM
He did his duty and no more when he obeyed the voice
that bid him go. That God laid on him a duty which is
not laid on most men matters nothing. To him it was a
duty when God laid it on him. He had to go forth, leave
all, and give up even life itself in the end. Otherwise he
vvould have incurred the blame of disobedience to the
heavenly voice.
This position is quite intelligible and reasonable, even if it
is not so simple and obvious as the other. It also fairly
faces and fairly covers the facts of the case. It has been
best expressed, I think, by Rothe, when he defines a
counsel as the application of a general principle to an in
dividual moral instance. The words, " Go and sell all that
thou hast and give to the poor," are, according to this riew,
the application of the command — " Thou shalt not steal "
— to the particular instance of one map. They may be
similarly addressed to others whose characters and circum
stances are like his. To him and to them they are as
absolutely binding as the original command is to every
man. He to whom the words are spoken has no choice of
ways at all. H« must either decide to obey or be prepared
to perish. His vvay of life, if he obeys, may be regarded
as higher when compared to the lives of the majority of
men. It is not a higher life as compared to any other life
possible for him to Uve, for it is the only way open to him
of being a Christian at all.
If I have succeeded in understanding this line of thought
correctly, I find that it involves me in a serious moral
dilemma. Here is a commandment of God — r"Thou shalt
not commit adultery." If a raan deliberately and perse-
veringly refuses obedience to this commandment — if he
lives unrepentant to the end of his days in this particular
sin — he clearly lives outside the circle of the grace of God.

CUUJNbELb AINU PRECEPTS 299
So far as God's revelation in the New Testament teaches
us, that man on the day of judgment must be set upon the
left hand. There is no possibility, so far as we can see, but
that the Judge should say to him, " Depart, thou cursed."
But there are men to whom God shows the value of a
perfectiy virgin life. There are those, the Lord Himself
tells us, who for His sake vvill renounce maniage. Accord
ing to Rothe's definition, a call to virginity is an application
of the general principle contained in the seventh command
ment to the particular case of the man who receives the
call. But perhaps through weakness of the flesh this man
refuses to obey the call. He marries. Has he sinned?
To the end of his Ufe he does not repent He goes down
into the grave knowing that his life might have been greater
if he had accepted the vocation ; yet well aware that mar
riage is no offence in the sight of the Almighty. Is this
man in the same position exactly as the unrepentant
adulterer? According to Rothe's reasoning he is. But
the thought is utterly intolerable. State it nakedly, and all
consciences revolt against it
Again, there is a command — " Thou shalt not steal." He
who refuses obedience to it and dies unrepentant perishes.
There does not seem to be any other possibility. But God
sometimes says to man, " SeU all that thou hast." This, we
are told, is the appUcation of the general principle to the
individual moral instance of this man. If he clings to his
property, through weakness of the will, he transgresses the
dirine command. Though, like Zacchaeus, he restore four
fold all he has dishonestly acquired and give half of his
goods to the poor, yet it is no use. He is still in the same
position as another who has enriched himself throughout
the whole of a long life by robbery of the vridow and the
orphan. Can vve beheve such things as these? Do not

300 CHRISTIAN MONAbllClbM
heart and conscience alike cry out against conclusions so
frightful ?
I am not concerned here to enter upon a theological
discussion about the accuracy of the patristic teaching
on counsels and precepts. I wish to do no more than
to show that it was the result of reasonable and pious
thought about facts vvhich forced themselves upon the
attention. I do not suppose that any other way of co
ordinating the facts suggested itself to the fathers at all.
The Protestant theory was never presented to them. Their
own view was so simple and natural that it did not occur to
them to cast round for any other. Even when they pro
ceeded to reason from the view of facts which they accepted,
the process vvas very brief and very inevitable. There are
two ways of Christian living. This the fathers saw. One
is higher than the other. This they felt. Men, or some
men, have a choice between the two. This is at first sight
obvious. From the position so arrived at Origen and St
Ambrose proceeded to argue that he who accepts the
higher way does more than he is obliged to do; gives
something more than is required of him. ' This seems a
perfectly logical advance upon the accepted premises.
It was, however, just the ultimate consequence of this
advance which gave occasion to the Protestant revolt
against the whole position. There gradually emerged the
strange conception that these works beyond what was
required were in some way stored up by the Church, as
a kind of fund upon which she might draw for the benefit
of disobedient children. The treasury of heavenly merit
was shamelessly bartered for earthly coin in the selling
of indulgences. An extraordinarily complex system gathered
round the originaUy simple position of the fathers. The
practical issue of it however, was eminently easy to under-

COUNSELS AND PRECEPTS 301
stand. For so much payment you obtain remission of so
much punishment for sin. This was a revolting doctrine.
The preaching of it forms the justification of the Protestants
when they went back, to cut away, as they conceived, the
root from vvhich it sprang by rejecting the patristic position
about counsels and precepts.
I do not think that the theory of a treasury of merits
need have followed from what St Ambrose taught about
works done beyond what are required. Up to that point
there was nothing in the Church's teaching to revolt en
lightened consciences. On the contrary, it was capable
of affording, and did actually afford, an impulse towards
the very completest Christian self-sacrifice and the very
noblest Christian endeavour. There was ever before men's
thoughts the conception of an altogether unworldly life, a
Ufe Hke the angels' life, like Christ's own Ufe, a perfect life.
The supreme self-sacrifice, the giving up of all that men
prize and find good, was continually set forth as the greatest
possibiUty of Christian life. The Church did not shrink
from preaching an exceeding great reward hereafter for
those who dare greatly now. She did not fear to urge men
everywhere to strive hard for a place amid
" All that chivalry of His—
Those soldier saints who row on row
Bum upwards each to hb point of bliss."

INDEX

Abbot, election of, 197, 223
— Benedictine, 239 ff.
Abraham, St., 104
Accidie, 113, 153 ff., 193, 242
Advance of Benedictine Order —
First Period, 230 ff.
Second Period, 234 ff.
Aerians, 176
Agathon, 145
Agde, Council of, 196
Aigulf, 232
Aleibiades, 74
Ambrose, St., 90,206, 208,210,289
Ammon, 103, 104, 112, n8
Ammonius, 205
Anabaptists, 13
— apostolic, 14
— spiritual, 14
— in HoUand, 13
"Angelic life," 20, 88, 152
Anger, 147 S.
Anglican monasticism, 251
Anti-Nicene party, 130
Antony, St., 18, 104, 108-12, 1 17,
120, 143, 136, 161, 213, 267
— character ofj 102, 128
— consistency of accounts of, 277
— his discourse on Discretion, 166
— importance of, 100, 12I
— life of, 9S ff.
— references to, loi
— sermon of, 99

Apophthegmata Pairum discussed,
283ff.
Apostolic age, ascetic spirit in, 31
— motives for asceticism of, 32
Apostolic life, imitation of, 17,
88, 109, 146
Aristocracy, the, and monasticism,
209 ff.
Arsenius, Abbot, lOS, 136, 160
Art in the catacombs, 69
Ascetic spirit, the, as represented
in English imaginative litera
ture, 7, 8
Asceticism, among the chosen
people, 258 ff.
— among the Greeks, 260 ff.
— (Christian),supposed derivation
from foreign sources, 264 E
— Indian, 2s5
— in ancient Egypt, 262
— in the teaching of Christ, 77,
292 ff.
— Manichsean, 108, 265
— Origen's philosophy of, 83-7,
268
Athanasius, 123, 128, 130, 205,
Z07, 212
Athos, Mount, 121, 194, 198, 203
Audiani, 175
Augustine, St., 208, 218, 291
Augustine, St., of England, 230 ff.
Avarice, 1426^

303

304

INDEX

Basil the Great, 178, 181, 198,
207, 213, 216
— friendship and quarrel with
Eustathius, iS2f.
— his ascetic teaching, l86ff.
— his work for monasticism, l84ff.
— idea of monasticism, 197
— influence of, in the West, 199
219
— on the labour of monks, 193
Benedict Biscop, 234
Benedict, St., 216, 220, 221, 222,
227 f.
Benedictine order, 210, 211
Benedictine rule, 122, 199, 215,
221, 223
E— changes in, 233
contrasted with St. Basil's,
221
contrasted with Institutes of
Cassian, 222
— spirit of, 238 ff.
Bernard, St., 245
Bishops, founders of monasteries,
208
— power of, over monasteries,
196 ff.
Bobbio, 232
Boniface, St., 229, 234
Boskoi, 174
Bourignon, Antoinette, 15
Callixtus, Bishop of Rome, 71
— charges against, 71 ff.
— policy of, 74
Cappadocia, monasticism in, 177
— Church in, 185
Cassian, 207,^1^217, 219, 221
— Conferences discussed, 282 ff.
Cassiodorus, rule of, 233 ^"•~
Catholic ideal of life, 6
— contrasted with Protestant, 4

Catholicity of the Church secured,
76
Chalcedon, Council of, 19S
Charles the Great, 228, 229
Church, attitude of, towards the
world, 64
— attitude of, towards the monks,
171, 209 ff.
— attitude of hermits towards,
III
Circumcision, meaning of rite,
\f- 2S8
Coenobitic distinguished frora idio
rythmic life, 121
— preferred to the hermit life,
». 121, 14S, 191
Xolumbanus, St., 220, 232, 233,
23s
Communism at Jerusalem, 39
Competition "in asceticism, 172
Compromise between early Chris
tian spirit and the world, 65
Constitutiones Asceticae, 180
Converts, their difficulties, 30 ff.
Coptic fondness for the miracu
lous, 280 ff.
Counsels and precepts, choice
between, 296 ff.
— distinguished, 287
— higher and lower, 6, 294
— patristic teaching on, 288 ff.
— Protestant doctrine of, 297
— result of patristic teaching on,
301
Cyrus of Alexandria, 140
Dejection, 130 ff.
Demons, Athanasius' view of, no
— early Church's belief in, 36
— hermit's view of, 109
— instigators of persecution, 34
Dialogues of Gregory, 231

INDEX

305

Discretion, 163 ff.
" Divine Philosophy," 88
Donatus, rule of, 232
Eastem monasticism, 171, 199
Eccentricity of Eastern ascetics,
174
Eg)-pt, sisceticism in, during the
third century, 84
— monasticism in, 93 ff.
Eight principal faults, 135
Elijah, example of ascetic life, 266
Elkasites, 74
Encratites, 38
England, monasticism in, 230, 234
Epip'nanius, 139
Essenes, 259
Eucharist in the Egyptian deserts,
lis, 120, 122
Eulalius, 177, 178
Eusebius, his knowledge of mo
nasticism, 80, 131
Eusebius of Nicomedia, 130, 131
Eusebius of Vercellae, 208, 212
Eustathius of Sebaste, 176 ff.
Euthymius, 194
" Evangelic perfection," 88
Evolution of monasticism, 83
Family, idea of, in Benedictine
monastery, 223, 224
Fasting, in the primitive Church,
41,42
— cure for gluttony, 137
Ferreolus, rule of, 233
Fleury, 232, 236
Florentius, 210
Fomication, 139 ff
Fox, George, 17
Franciscan tertiaries, 13
Fulda, 235, 236
Gangra, Council of, I79ff-

Gaul, monastic foundations in,
207
Gichtel, IS
Gluttony, 136 ff.
Gnosticism, Church's struggle
with, 57
— dualism of, 5^
Gregory the Great, 229, 231
Gregory II., 234, 235
Gregory HI,, 234
Hesychastae, 197
Hierakas, 90
Hilarion, St., 103, 104, 112, 139,
213
Hippo, monastery at, 219
— nuns at, 218
Hippolytus, 71
Historia MonacJwrum, 277 ff.
History of the Church bound up
with monasticism, 272
Honoratus of Lerins, 212, 217
Hospitality, 243
Humanist spirit, 12
"Imitation of Christ," 88
"Inclusi" of Serapis, 262, 269
Indian asceticism, 255 ff.
Indulgences, sale of, 300
Instinctive asceticism in the early
Church, 48
Intrusion of the ascetic ideal into
Protestantism, I3ff.
Islands, monasteries on, 207
Jerome, St., 173. 210, 212, 216
— his friends, 203, 210
Jesuits, 247 ff.
John, Abbot, 112
John the Baptist, example of as
cetic life, 266
John of Lycopolis, 129, 165
John of Ephesus, 172

306

INDEX

John the Short, 150, 162
Joseph, Abbot, 104
Justinian Code, 196
Kelliote, 195
Labadie, i6ff.
Labour, 241, 242
Lauras, 118
Lausiac History discussed, 277,
27Sff.
Learning of monks, 233, 242
Legislation affecting monks, 196
Lerins, 232
Life of a hermit, description of,
112 ff.
Lombards, 229, 230
Lu.xury, in early Church, S2
— in Roman society, 210, 214
Macarius the younger, 104
Macarius the Alexandrian, 104,
107, 120, 213
Macarius the Egyptian, 103, Ij8,
120, 13s, 144, 167, 213, 237
Manichseism of Egyptian her
mits, 107, 108, 265 ff.
Mar Awgin, 104
Marga, Thomas of, 173
Martin, St., of Tours, 164, 2o5-io
Mathoen, 159
Methodism, 19
Miracles in Egyptian monastic
histories, 279, 280
Monasteries for the clergy, 206,
208
Monks, relations with the Churchj
IIS, 123 ff., 127, 131
— obedience of, 129
Montanism, 60 ff.
— strong in Asia Minor and North
Africa, 70

Montanist claim to inspiration,
61,67
— orthodoxy, 62
— teaching on fasting, 63
— teaching on marriage, 63, 67
Montanists and Hippolytus, 75
Monte Casino, 228^30, 235
Moschus, 172
Moses, Abbot, 103, 118, 136, 166
Mysticism and Greek phUosophy,
261
Narcissus of Jerusalem, 78
Nazarite, vow of, 258
Neo-Platonism, influence of, 105
— influence on Christian asceti
cism, 268
Nestorius, Abbot, 159
Nitrian desert, Sg, 120
Northern Italy, monastic founda
tions in, 206
Novatian, 7S
Novices, 244
Nub, Abbot, I iS
Obedience, of Egyptian monks,
129
— of Benedictine monks, 241
Old Testament asceticism, influ-
enceon Christian monasticism,
266
Onuphrius, 116
Optimism of the early Church, 50
Organisation of monasticism in
the West, 216
Origen, his ascetic life, 84
— his ascetic teaching, 85
Pachomius, St., 103, 121, 216
— rule of, 122, 216
Pagan deities, reality of, 33, 38
Palccmon, 103, 112

INDEX

307

Pammachius, 210, 214
Paphnutius, Abbot, 105
Patience, 149 ff.
Paulinus of Nola, 206, 208, 210
Peyssel, 16
Pharisees, 239
Philosopher, 81
Philosophy of asceticism, 87
Piamun, 105, 108
Pierius, 89
Plymouth Brethren, 21
Postumian, 212
Poverty, 142, 246
Pride, 166 ff.
Protestant ideal of life, S
Pseudo-Clementine epistles, 79
Puritanism, 65, 69, 77
Pythagoras, " the way of," 261
Quakers, 17
Rechabites, 259
Relations of monks with clergy,
172, 174, 193. 207. Z09
Remoboth, 80, 174
Romances, Christian, 275
Rome, monastic foundations in,
205
Rufinus, 212, 216, 219, 221
Sabbas, 194
Salvation Army, 20
Sarabaitae, 80, 174
Schismatic Eastern ascetics, 175
Schnoudi, 123
Schools of the prophets, 259
Secularisation ' of the Christian
life, S3. 109
Serapion, 144, 130
Serenus, Abbot, no
Severianus, 59
Shakers, 20

Silvanus, Abbot, iig, 129
Simeon Stylites, 172
Sisois, Abbot, 150, 139
Southern Italy, monastic founda
tions in, 206
Specialisation of the ascetic spirit,
84
Stabilitas loci, 222
Stauropegia, 196
Sturm, 23s
Subiaco, 229
Syria, asceticism in, Si
Tabennisi, monastery of, 122, 123
Terracina, monastery of, 229
Tertullian, 66 ff., 288
Theodore, 104, 158
Theodore, the Studite, 198
— "Testament" of, 19S
Theodosius, Abbot, 194, 198
Therapeutae, 46, 259, 267
Tolstoi, 21-4
TruUian. Council, 196
Vainglory, lS7ff-
Valesians, 175
Vicovarra, 228
Virginity, 43, 44, 82, 86, 146
Virgin, " the chief," 82
Vita Antonii discussed, 275, 276
Wandering ascetics, 79
Wealth, early Christian view of,
40
Weingarten, 105, 142
— his theory, 269 ff.
Wesley, 18, 19
Western monastic rules, 218 ff.
Wilfrid of York, 234
Zacharias, 234, 236

PLYMOUTH
WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON ^
PRINTERS

A SELECTION OF BOOKS
PUBLISHED BY METHUEN
AND CO. LTD., LONDON
36 ESSEX STREET
W.C.

CONTENTS

»ACB
rACB
General Literature • i
3
Little Quarto Shakespear* .
19
Ancient Cities.
la
Miniature Library
New Library of Medicine .
•9
19
Antiquary's Books,
13
New Library of Music
ao
Arden Shakespeare
13
Oxford Biographies
ao
Classics of Art
14
Romantic, History . ,
ao
Complete Series .
• 14
States of Italy
20
Connoisseur's Library .
'4
Westminster Commentaries
21
Handbooks of EngUsh Church
ShilUng Library .
ai
History ....
.
15
Fiction ' 
ar
Handbooks of Theology
•
»5
Two-ShiUing Novels .
s5
niustrated Pocket Library
of
Books for Boys and Girls .
aS
Plain and Coloured Boo
ia
15
Shilling Novels
a6
Leaders of Religion
16
Novels of Alexandre Dumas
27
Library of Devotion
16
Sixpenny Books .
27
Little Books on Art .
17
Little Galleries
J7
Booka for Travellers
30
Little Guides .
17
Some Books on Art . •
30
Little Library . ,
18
Some Books on Italy
31
MARC]
fl I 9 I 2
A SELECTION OF
MESSRS. METHUEN'S
PUBLICATIONS

In this Catalogue the order is according to authors. An asterisk denotu
that the book i<; in the press.
Colonial Editions .^^e published of all Messrs. Mbthukn*s Novels issued
at a price above ss. 6d.,, and similar editions are published of some works of
General Literature. Colonial editions are only for circulation in the British
Colonies and India.
All books marked net are not subject to discount, and cannot be bought
at less than the published price. Books not marked net are subject to the
discount which the bookseller allows.
Messrs, Methubn's books are kept in stock by all good booksellers. If
there is any difficulty in seeing copies, Messrs. Methuen wilt be very glad to
have early information, and specimen copies of any books will be sent on
receipt of the published price j*/«j postage for net books, and of the published
price for ordinary books.
This Catalogue contains only a selection of the more important book*
published by Messrs. Methuen. A complete and illustrated catalogue of their
publications may be obtained on application.

Andrewes (Lancelot). PRECES PRI-
VaTAE. Translated and edited, with
Notes, by F. E. Erightmas. Cr. Zvo. 6s.
Aristotle. THE ETHICS. Edited, with
an Introduction and Notes, by John
Burnet. Deiny %vo. los, td, net.
Atkinson (CT.). A HISTORY OF GER
MANY, fron 1715-1S15. illustrated. Demy
Svo. I2S. 6d. nei.
Atkinson <T. D.). ENGLISH ARCHI
TECTURE. Illustrated. Fca^.Zvo. %s.td.
net.
A GLOSSARY OF TERMS USED IN
ENGLISH ARCHITECTURE. Illus
trated. Second Edition. l-'cap.Zvo. y.ttl.
,tet.
Bain (F. VV.). A DIGIT OF THE
MOON: A HINDOO LOVE STORV. JSinth
Edition. Fea/,. i7,o. v. 6i. net.
THK DESCENT Of THE SUN : a cyclb
OF BIRTH. Fiftli Edition. Fcap. tvo.
3J. 6d. net.
A HEIFER OF THE DAWN. Sevent/i
Edition. Fcap. Zvo. ss. td. net.
IN THE GREAT GOD'S HAIR. Fifth
Edition. Fcap. Zvo. 2j. td. net.
A DRAUGHT OF THE BLUE. Fourth
Edition. Fcap. Zvo. 2j. td. net.
AN ESSENCE OF THE DUSK. Third
Edition. Fcap. Zvo. a J. td. net.

AN INCARNATION OF THE SNOW.
Second Edition. Fcap. S-vc. js. td. net
A MINE OF FAULTS. Second Edition.
Fcap. Zvo. 3r, td. net.
THE ASHES OF A GOD. Fcap. Svt.
3X. td. net.
Balfour (Cpaham). THE LIFE GF
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. Illus
trated, Fifth Edition in ont Volume.
Cr. Svo. Buckram, ts.
Baring-Gould CS.). THE LIFE OF
NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. Illustrated,
Second Edition. Roval Zvo. loj. td, net.
THE TRAGEDY 0"F THE C.ESARS :
A Study of the Characters of thk
CytSARS OF THE JuLIAN AND ClAUDIAN
Hot/SES. Illustrated. Seventh Edition.
Royal Zvo. los. td. net.
A BOOK OF FAIRY TALES. Illustrated,
Second Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. Aho /rfedium
Zvo. td.
OLD ENGLISH FAIRY TALES, Illus
trated, Third Edition. Cr. Zvo. B-uck-
rant. ts.
THE VICAR OF MOR^VENSTOW. With
a Portrait. Third Edition. Cr. Zvo. ri. td.
OLD COUNTRY LIFE, Illustrated. jFy'/A
Edition. Large Cr. Zvo. ts.
STRANGE SURVIVALS : Somk Chapters
IN THE HisTosy OF Mah. Illusuatod.
Third Edition. Cr. Zvo. v. id. net.

General Literature

YORKSHIRE ODDITIES : Incidents
AND Strangk Events. Fifth Edition.
Cr. Zvo. IS. td. net.
*..-^0°^ OF CORNWALL. Illustrated.
TAir-d Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
•*¦ r^°°>^9*'' DARTMOOR. Illustrated.
Second Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
A BOOK OF DEVON. Illustrated. Third
Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
A BOOK OF NORTH WALES. Illus
trated. Cr. ivo. ts.
A BOOK OF SOUTH WALES. Illus
trated, Cr. Zvo. ts.
A BOOK OF BRITTANY. Illustrated.
Second Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts
A BOOK OF THE RHINE:' From Cleve
to Mamz. Illustrated. Second Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts.
A BOOK OF THE RIVIERA. Illus
trated. Second Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
A BOOK OF THE PYRENEES. Illus
trated. Cr. Svo. ts.
Barlngr-Gould (S.) and Sheppard (H.
Fleetwood). A GARLAND OF
COUNTRY SONG, English Folk Songs
with their Traditional Melodies. Demy \to.
ts.
SONGS OF THE WEST: Folk Songs of
Devon and Cornwall. Collected from the
Mouths of the People. New and Revised
Edition, under the musical editorship of
Cecil J. Shar?. Lar^e Imperial Svo.
5J. net.
Barker (E.). THE POLITICAL
THOUGHT OF PL.ATO AND ARIS
TOTLE, Demy Zvo. lor. td. net.
. Bastable (C. F.). THE COMMERCE
OF NATIONS. Fif th Edition. Cr. Svtt.
as. td,
Batson (Mrs. Stephen). A CONCISE
HANDBOOK OF GARDEN FLOWERS.
Fcap. Zvo. 3J. td.
Beckett (Arthur). THE SPIRIT OF
THE DOWNS: Impressions and Remi-
Discences ofthe Sussex Downs. Illustrated.
Second Edition. - Detny Svo. los. td. nei.
Beckford (Peter). THOUGHTS ON
HUNTING. Edited by J. Otho Paget.
Illustrated. Third Edition. Demy Svo. ts.
BellOC (H.). PARIS. Illustrated. Second
Edition, Revised, Cr. Zvo. ts.
HILLS AND THE SEA. Fourth Edition.
Fcap. Zvo. 55,
ON NOTHING AND KINDRED SUB
JECTS. Third Edition. Fcap. Svo. 5s.
ON EVERYTHING. Third Edition, Fcap.
Svo. 5s.
ON SOMETHING. Second Editiem. Fcap.
Svo. IS.
FIRST AND LAST. Fcap. Svo. 5J.
MARIE ANTOINETTE. Illustrated.
Third Edition. Demy Svo. 15s. net.
THE PYRENEES. Illustrated. Second
Editiem. Demy Zvo, js, td. net.

Bennett (Arnold). THE HONEYr
MOON. Second Edition. Fcap. Svo.
3X, net. •
Bennett (W. H.). A PRIMER OF THE
BIBLE. Fifth Edition. Cr. Svo. as. td.
Bennett (W. H.) and Adeney (W, F.). A
BIBLICAL INTRODUCTION. With a '
concise Bibliography. Sixth Edition. Cr.
Zvo. ,js. td.
Benson (Archbishop). GOD'S BOARD.
Communion Addresses. Second Edition.
Fcap. Svo. y. td. net.
Bensusan (Samuel L.). HOME LIFE
IN SPAIN. Illustrated. Second Edition.
Demy Zvo. laf. td. net.
Betham-Edwards (Miss). HOME LIFE
IN FRANCE. Illustrated. Fifth Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts,
Bindley (T. Herbert). THE OECU
MENICAL DOCUMENTS OF THE
FAITH. With Introductions and Notes.
Second Edition, Cr. Svo. ts. net.
Blake {William). ILLUSTRATIONS OF
THE BOOK OF JOB. With a General In
troduction by Laurence Binyon, lUus-
trated. Quarto. 7 is. nei,
Bloemfontein (Bishop of). ARA CCELL:
An Essav in Mystical Theology,
Fourth Edition. Cr. Svo. 3J, td. net.
FAITH AND EXPERIENCE. Second
Edition. Cr. Svo. 3J. td, net,
Bowden (E. M.). THE IMITATION OF
BUDDHA: QnoUtions from Buddhist
Lkerature for each Day in the Year. Sixth
Edition, Cr. itmo. as. td.
Brabant (F. G,). RAMBLES IN SUSSEX.
Illustrated. Cr, Svo, ts.
Bradley (A. G.). ROUND ABOUT WTLT-
SHIRE. Illustrated. Second Edition. C'tk
Svo. ts.
THE ROMANCE OF NORTHUMBER
LAND. Illustrated. Second Edition. Demy
Svo. js. td, n£t.
Braid (James). ADVANCED GOLF;
Illustrated. Sixth Edition. Demy Svo.
loj. td. net.
Erallsford (H. N.). MACEDONIA ; Its
Races and their Future. Illustrated.
Demy Zvo, xas. td. net,
Brodrick (Mary) and Worton (A. Ander
son). A CONCISE DICTIONARY OF
EGYPTIAN ARCHAEOLOGY. A Hand
book for Students and Travellers. Illus
trated. Cr. Zvo, 3j, td, i
Brownins (Robert). PARACELSUS.
Edited with an Introduction, Notes, and
Bibliography by Margaret L Lkb and
Kathaeime B. Locock. Fcap, S»». 31. td,
¦ net.

j\lETIlUEi.i jrxL^xj \^Kji'*J,sm.j.,t X j-tt.isLi. J.^xj

Buokton (A. M,). EAGER HEART: A
Christmas Mystery-Play. Tenth Edition.
Cr. Svo. IS. net.
Budge (E. A. WalHs). THE GODS OF
THE EGYPTIANS. Illustrated. Two
Volumes. RoydiSvo, £,-i-iS,net.
Bull (Paul). GOD AND OUR SOLDIERS.
Second Editioru Cr. Zvo. ts.
Burns (Robert). THE POEMS AND
SONGb, Edited by Andrew Lang and
W. A. Craigie. With Portrait. Third
Edition. Wide Demy Svo. ts.
Busbey (Katherine G.). HOME LIFE
IN AMERICA. Illustrated. Second Edi
tion. Defny Svo. jos. td. nei.
Butlln (F. M.). AMONG THE DANES,
illustrated. Demy Zvo. js. td. net.
Cain (Georges), WALKS IN PARIS.
Translated by A. R, Allinson. Illustrated.
Demy Svo. -js. td, net.
Caiman (\V. T.). THE LIFE OF
CRUSTACEA. Illustrated. Cr. Svo, ts.
Carlyla (Thomas). THE FRENCH
REVOLUTION. Edited by C. R. L.
Fletcher. Three Volumes. Cr. Svo. sSs.
THE LEITERS AND SPEECHES OF
OLIVER CROMWELL. With an In
troduction by C H. Firth, and Notes
and Appendices by S. C. LoMAS. Three
Volumes. Demy Zvo, xSs, net,
Celano (Brother Thomas of). THE
LIVES OF S. FRANCIS OF ASSISL
Translated by A. G. Ferrers Howeu-
Illustrated. Cr. Svo. is. net.
Chambers (Mrs. Lambert). LAWN
TENNIS FOR LADIES. IUustrated.
Cr. Zvo. as. td. net.
Chesterfield (Lord). THE LETTERS OF
THE EARL OF CHESTERFIELD TO
HIS SON. Edited, with an Introduction by
C, Strachey, and Notes by A. Calthrof,
Tvjo Volumes, Cr. Zvo. 12J,
Chesterton (O.K.). CHARLES DICKENS.
With two Portraits in Photogravure. Seventh
Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
ALL THINGS CONSIDERED. Sixth
Edit'On. Fcap. Svo. ss.
TREMENDOUS TRIFLES. Fourth
Edition. Fcati. Zvo. 5J.
ALARMS AND DISCURSIONS. Second
Edition. Fcap. Zvo. sr,
THE B.ALLAD OF THE WHITE
HORSE. Third Edition. Fcap. Svo. 51.
Clausen (George). SIX LECTURES ON
PAINTING. Illustrated. Third Edition,
Large Post Svo. 3J. td. net.
AIMS AND IDEALS IN ART, Eight
Lectures delivered to the Students of the
Royal Academy of Arts. Illustrated. Second
adition. Lar£e Post Svo. 5J. net.

Glutton-Brock (A.) SHELLEY: THE
MAN AND THE POET. IUustrated.
Demy Svo. -js. td. net.
Cobb (W.F.). ' THE BOOK OF PSALMS!
with an Introduction and Notes. Demy Zvo.
los. td. net.
Colllngwood (W. G.I. THE LIFE OF
JOHN RUSKIN. ^V^th Portrait. Sixth
Edition. Cr. Svo. as. td. net.
Conrad (Joseph). THE MIRROR OF
THE SEA : Memories and Impressions,
Third Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
CooIIdge (W. A. B.). THE ALPS. IUus
trated. Demy Svo. js. td. net.
Coulton (G. G.). CHAUCER AND HIS
E^GLAND. Illustrated. Second Edition.
Demy Zvo. lor. td. net,
Cowper (William). THE POEMS,
Edited with an Ititroduction and Notes by
J, C, Bailey. IUustrated. Demy Zvo.
lor. td. net,
CrIspa (T. E.). REMINISCENCES OF A
K.C With a Portraits. Second Edition,
Detny Svo. lor. td. net.
Crowley (Ralph H.). THE HYGIENE
OF SCHOOL LIFE. Illustrated. Cr.
Zvo. 3r. td. net.
Dante Allghlerl. LA COMMEDIA DI
DANTE. The Italian Text edited by
Paget ToYNBBB. Cr.Sva.ts.
Davey (Richard). THE PAGEANT OF
LONDON. Illustrated. In T-wo Volumes.
Demy Zvo, 151. net.
Davis (H.W. C). ENGLAND UNDER
THE NORMANS AND ANGEVINS:
106^x273, Illustrated. Second Edition.
Demy Svo. xos. td. net.
Dawbarn (Charles,) FRANCE AND
THE FRENCH. Illustrated. Demy Svo.
ros. td. net. '
Dearmer (Mabel). A CHILD'S LIFE
OF CHRIST. Illustrated. Large Cr.
Svo, ts.
Deffand (Madame Du). THE LETTERS
OF MADAME DU DEFFAND TO
HORACE WALPOLE. Edited, with
Introduction, Notes, and Index, by Mrs.
Paget ToYNBEE. In Three Volumes.
Demy Svo. ;C3 3r. net.
Dickinson (G. L.). THE GREEK VIEW
OF LIFE. Seventh Edition. CrownZvo,
as. td. net,
Ditchfield (P. H.). THE PARISH
CLERK. Illustrated. Third Edition.
Demy Svo. ys. td. net.
THE OLD-TIME PARSON. Illustrated.
Second Edition. Demy Soo. js. td, net.

General Literature

S

Ditchfield (P. H.) and Roe (Fred).
VANISHING ENGLAND. The Book by
P. H. Ditchfield. Illustrated by Fred Roe.
Second Editum. Wide Deyny Zvo. iss.net.
Doiiglas (Hugh A.). VENICE ON FOOT.
With the Itinerary of t'ne Grand Canal.
Illustrated. Second Edition. Fcap. Svo.
VENICE AND HER TREASURES.
IUustrated. Round c&r?iers. Fcap, Zvo,
$s, net.
Dowden (J.). FURTHER STUDIES IN
THE PRAYER BOOK. Cr. Svo. ts.
Driver (S. K.). SERMONS ON
SUBJECTS CONNECTED WITH THE
OLD TESTAMENT. Cr. Svo. ts.
Dumas (Alexandre). THE CRIMES OF
THE BORGIAS AND OTHERS. With
an Introduction by R_ S. Garnett.
Illustrated. Second Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE CRIMES OF URBAIN GRAN
DIER AND OTHERS. IUustrated. Cr,
Svo. ts.
THE CRIMES OF THE MARQUISE
DE ERINVILLIERS AND OTHERS,
Illustrated. Cr. Zvo, ts.
THE CRIMES OF ALI PACHA AND
OTHERS. Illustrated. Cr. Zvo. ts.
MY liLEMOIRS. Translated by E. M.
W.ALLER. With an Introduction by Andrew
Lang. With Frontispieces in Photogravure.
In six Volumes. Cr. Zvo. ts. each volume.
Vol. I. iSoi-iSar. Vol. IV. 1830-1831.
Vol- II. 1822-1825. Vou V. i83t-t832.
"Vol. III. i826-rS3o. Vol. VI. 1832-1833.
MY PETS. Newly trans'iated by A. R.
Allinson. IUustrated. Cr. Svo. ts.
Duncan (F. M.). OUR INSECT
FRIENDS AND FOES. Illustrated.
Cr. Zzn. ts.
Dunn-Pattison (R. P.). NAPOLEON'S
MARSHALS. Illustrated. Demy Zvo,
Second Edition, i-is. td. net,
THE BL.ACK PRINCE IUustrated.
Second Edition. Demy Zvo. js. td, nei.
Durham (The Earl of). THE REPORT
ON CANADA. With an Introductory
Note. Demy Svo. 4J. td. nei.
Dutt(W.A.). THE NORFOLK BROADS.
Illustrated. Second Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
WILD LIFE IN EAST ANGLIA, Illus
trated. Second Edition, Demy Svo. yr. td.
net.
Edwardes (Tlckner). THE LORE OF
THE HONEY-BEE. Illustrated. Third
Editi.-„t. Cr. Zvo. ts.
LIFT-LUCK ON SOUTHERN ROADS,
Illustrated. Cr. Svo: ts.
NEIGHBOURHOOD : A Year's Life in
and About an English Village, IUus
trated. Cr. Svo. ts.

Egerton (H. E). A SHORT HISTORY
OF BRITISH COLONIAL POLICY.
Third Edition. Demy Svo. ys. td. net.
Exeter (Bishop of). R E G N U M D E L
(The Bampton Lectures of zgoi.) A Cheaper
Editionm Demy Zvo. yx. td. net.
Falrbrother (W. H.). THE PHILO
SOPHY OF T. H. GREEN. Second
Edition. Cr. Svo. 3J. td,
Fea (Allan). THE FLIGHT OF THE
KING. Illustrated. Second and Revised
Edition. Demy Svo. ys. td. net.
SECRET CHAMBERS AND HIDING-
PLACES. Illustrated. Third atid Revised
Edition. Detny Zvo. ys. td. net.
JAMES II. AND His wives. Illustrated.
Dettty Svo, las. td, net.
FiPth (C. H.). CROMWELL'S ARMY:
A History of the English Soldier during the
Civil Wars, tbe Commonwealth, and tho
Protectorate. lUustrated. Second Edition,
Cr, Zvo. ts,
Fisher (H. A. L.). THE REPUBLICAN
TRADITION IN EUROPE. Cr, Zvo,
ts. net.
FitzGerald (Edward). THE RUBAI'YAT
OF OMAR KH.4.YYAM. Printed from
the Fifth and last Edition. With a Com
mentary by H. M. Batson, and a Biograph
ical Introduction by E. D. Ross. Cr. Zvo.
6s,
Fletcher fJ. S.). A BOOK ABOUT
YORKSHIRE. Illustrated. Demy 8r/».
ys. td. net.
Flux (A. W.). ECONOMIC PRINCIPLES
Demy Svo. ys, td. net.
Fraser (J, FO- ROUND THE WORLD
ON A WHEEL. IUustrated. Fifth
Edition, Cr. Z-0O. ts.
Gallon (Sir Francis). MEMORIES OF
MY LIFE. lUustrated. Third Edition.
Demy Zvo. tos, td. net.
Gibbins (H. de B.). INDUSTRY IN
ENGL.AND: HISTORICAL OUT
LINES. With 3 Maps. Sixth Editioti.
Demy Svo. los. td.
THE INDUSTRIAL HISTORY OF
ENGLAND. Illustrated. Eighteenth
atid Revised Edition. Cr. Zvo. 3J.
ENGLISH SOCIAL REFORMERS.
Second Edition. Cr. Svo. as. td.
Gibbon (Edward)- THE MEMOIRS OF
THE LIFE OF EDWARD GIBBON.
Edited by G, BtRKBECK Hlix. Cr. Svo. ts.
THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE
ROMAN EMPIRE. Edited, with Notes,
Appendices, and Maps, by J. B. Bury,
lUustrated. In Seven Volumes. Demy
Svo. EaiTi SOS. td, nei.

6

Methue:

1.1 nx^ay \^\joirH.ax JL.il_IVLm<,D

Gloag (M. R.) A BOOK OF ENGLISH
GARDENS. IUustrated. Demy Svo.
lOJ. td. nei.
Glover (J. H.). JIMMY GLOVER— HIS
' BOOK. Fourth Editum. Demy Svo.
i^s. td. net.
Glover (T. R.). THE CONFLICT OF
RELIGIONS IN THE EARLY ROMAN
EMPIRE. Fourth Edition. Demy Zvo,
ys. td. nei.
Godfrey (Elizabeth). A BOOK OF RE-
MEMBRANCE, Being Lyrical Selections
for every day in the Year, Arranged by
E. Godfrey. Secettd Edition. Fcap. Svo,
as. td. net.
Godley (A. D.). OXFORD IN THE
EIGHTEENTH CENTURY, lUustrated.
Second Editiotu Demy Zvo. ys. td. net,
LYRA FRIVOLA. Fourth Edition. Fcap.
Zvo. as. td.
VERSES TO ORDER. Second Edition.
Fcap. Zvo. as. td.
SECOND STRINGS. Fcap. Svo. as. 6d,
Cordon (Lina Duff) (Mrs. Aubrey Water-
field). HOME LIFE IN ITALY : Letters
FROM THE Apennines. Illustrated. Second
Edition, Demy Zvo. los. td. net.
Gostling (Frances M.). THE BRETONS
AT HOME, IUustrated. Third Edition.
Cr. Svo. ts.
AUVERGNE AND ITS PEOPLE. lUus.
trated. Dettty Svo. los. td. nei.
Grahame (Kenneth). THE \VIND IN
THE V/ILLOWS. IUustrated. Sixth
Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s.
Grew (Edwlnl Sharpe). THE GKOWTH
OF A PLANET. Illustrated. Cr. Svo. ts.
Griffln (W. Hall) and Mlnchin (H. C).
THE LIFE OF ROBERT BROWNING.
Illustrated. Secottd Edition. Demy Svo.
las. td, net.
Hale (J. R.). FAMOUS SEA FIGHTS:
FROM Salamis to Tsu-Shima. Illustrated.
Cr, Svo, ts. net.
HaU (Cyril). THE YOUNG CARPEN
TER. IUustrated, Cr. Svo. 51.
Hall (Hammond). THE YOUNG EN
GINEER: or Modern Engines and THEIR
Models. Illustrated. Secottd Edition.
Cr. Zvo. 5r.
THE YOUNG ELECTRICLVN, IUus
trated. Second Edition. Cr. Svo. 5s.
Hannay (D.). A SHORT HISTORY OF
THE ROYAL NAVY, Vol, I., 1217-1688.
Vol. II., 16S9-1815. Demy Zvo. Each
ys. td. net.
Harper (Charles G.). THE AUTOCAR
ROAD-BOOK. FourVolumes with Maps.
Cr. Zvo. Each ys. td, net.
Vol. I. — South of the Thames.
Vol. II. — North and Sotn'H Wales
AND West Midlands.

Hassan (Arthur). NAPOLEON. lUnj.
trated. Detny Svo. ys. td. net.
Headley {F. W.). DARWINISM AND
ilODERN SOCIALISM. Second Edition,
Cr. Zvo. 5*. net.
Henderson (B. W.). THE LIFE AND
PKINCIPATE OF THE EMPEROR
NERO. Illustrated. New atid cheaper
issue. Detny Svo. ys. td. net.
Henderson (M. Sturge). GEORGE
MEREDITH : NOVELIST, POET,
REFORMER, lUustrated. Second Edition,
Cr. Zvo. ts.
Henderson (T. F.) and Watt (Francis).
SCOTLAND OF TO-DAY. lUustrated.
Second Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
Henley (W, E.). ENGLISH LTfRICS.
CHAUCER TO POK Second Edition.
Cr. Zvo. as. td, net.
Hill (George Francis). ONE HUNDRED
MASTERPIECES OF SCULPTURE.
IUustrated. Detny Zvo, los. td. nei.
Hind (C. Lewis). DAYS IN CORNWALL.
Illustrated, Third Edition. Cr. Svo, ts.
Hobhousei (L. T.). THE THEORY OF
KNOWLEDGE^ Detny Svo, los, td, net
Hodgson (Mrs, W,). HOW TO IDENTIFY
OLD CHINESE PORCELAIN, Illus
trated. T/iird Edition. Post Zvo, ts.
Holdloh (Sir T, H,), THE INDIAN
BORDERLAND, 1880-1900. IUustrated.
Second Edition, Demy Zvo. 10s. td. net.
Holdsworth (W. S,). A HISTORY OF
ENGLISH LAW. In Four Volumes.
Vols. /., //., ///. Demy Svo. Each lor. td.
net.
Holland (Clive). TYROL AND ITS
PEOPLE. lUustrated, Demy Svo. 10s. td.
net.
THE BELGIANS AT HOME. Illustrated,
Detny Svo. 10s. td, net,
Horsburgh (E. L. S.). LORENZO THE
MAGNIFICENT : AND Florence in her
Golden Age.- lUustrated, Second Edition.
Dettty Zvo. i^s. net.
WATERLOO : A Narrative and a crit
icism. With Plans. Second Editioti. Cr.
Zvo. SJ.
THE LIFE OF SAVONAROLA, rius-
trated, Cr. Zvo. 5J. nei.
Hosie (Alexander). MANCHURIA. IUus
trated. Secottd Edition, Demy Svo, ys. td.
net.
Hudson (W. H.). • A SHEPHERD'S
LIFE: Impressions of the Sotrrn Wilt
shire Downs. Illustrated. Third Eii-
iion. Demy Zvo. jr. td, nei.

General Literature

Hugon (C6cne). SOCIAL LIFE IN
FRANCE IN THE XVIL CENTURY.
' IUustrated. Detny Svo. los. td. net.
Humphreys (John H.). PROPOR-
TION.AL REPRESENTATION. Cr.Svo.
jr, tui.
Hutchinson (Horaea G.). THE NEW
FOREST. Illustrated. Fourth Edition.
Cr. Svo. dr.
Button (Edward). THE CITIES OF
SPAIN. Illustrated. Fourth Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE CITIES OF UMBRIA. IUustrated.
Fourth Edition. Cr, Svo. ts.
FLORENCE AND THE CITIES OF
NORTHERN TUSCANY WITH
GENOA. IUustrated. Second Edition.
Cr. Svo, ts.
SIENA AND SOUTHERN TUSCANY.
IlKislrated. Second Editioti, Cr.Svo. ts.
VENICE AND VENETIA, lUustrated,
Cr. Svo. ts.
ROME. IUustrated. Second Edition. Cr.
Svo. ts.
ENGLISH LOVE POEMS. Edited with
an Introduction. Fcap. Zvo. ^s. td. net.
COUNTRY WALKS ABOUT FLORENCE.
Illustrated. Second Edition. Fcap. Zvo.
5r. nei.
IN UNKNOWN TUSCANY With Notes.
by William Heywood. Illustrated. Second
Edition. Demy Svo. ys, td, net.
A BOOK. OF THE WYE. Illustrated.
Demy Zvo. ys. td net.
Ibsen (Henrik). BRAND. A Dramatic
Poem, Translated by William Wilson.
Fourth Editiotu Cr. Zvo. 3J, td.
Inge (W. E.). CHRISTIAN MYSTICISM.
(The Bampton Lectures of i8gg.) Secottd
and Clteaper Edition. Cr. Zvo. ss. nei.
Innes (A- D.l. A HISTORY OF THE
BRITISH IN INDIA. With Maps and
Plans. Cr. Zvo. ts.
ENGLAND UNDER THE TXTDORS.
With Maps, Third Editiotu Demy Zvo.
10s. td, net,
Innes (Mary). SCHOOLS OF PAINT
ING. Illustrated. Second Editiotu Cr,
Svo. ss. r.et,
Jenks (E,). AN OUTLINE OF ENG-
LISH LOCAL GOVERNMENT. Secottd
Editioti. Revised by R, C. K, Ensok,
Cr. Zvo. as. td. nei.
Jernlasham (Charles Edward). THE
MAXIMS OF MARMADUKE, Second
'Editiotu Cr. Zvo, sr,
Jerrold (Walter). THE DANUBE,
lUttstrTUed- Demy Svo. lot. td, net.

Johnston (Sir H. H. ). BRITISH CEN-
TRAL AFRICA. lUustrated. Third
Edition, Cr. 4to. iZs. rut.
THE NEGRO IN THE NEW WORLD.
IllustratecL Demy Svo. ais. tiet.
Julian (Lady) of Norwich. REVELA
TIONS OF DIVINE LOVE Edited by
Grace Warracic Fourth Editiotu Cr.
Svo. y. td,
Keats (John).. THE POEMS. Edited
with Introduction and Notes by E. de
S£lincourt. With a Frontispiece in Photo
gravure. Third Editiotu Demy Svo,
ys. td. net,
Keble (John). THE CHRISTIAN YEAR.
With an Introduction and Notes by W.
Lock. Illustrated. Third Edition. Fcap,
Zvo. 3r. td.
Kempis (Thomas a). THE IMITATION
OF CHRIST. With an Introduction by
Dean Faeear. Illustrated. Third
Editiotu Fcap, Svo. 3J. td,; padded
morocco, ss.
Kipling (Rudyard). BARRACK-ROOM
BALLADS, losth Tliousatid. Thirtieth
Edition, Cr. Svo. ts. Also Fcap. Zvo,
Leatlier. er. tiet.
THE SEVEN SEAS, Stth Thousand.
Eighteenth Edition. Cr. Svo. ts. Also
Fcap. Zvo, Leatlter. sr, net.
THE FIVE NATIONS, yand Thousand.
Eighth Editum. Cr. Zvo, 6s, Aho Fcap.
Zvo, Leather, sr. net.
DEPARTMENTAL DITTIES. Twentieth
Edition. Cr, Svo. ts. Also Fcap. Zvo,
Leather. 5J. net.
Knox (Winifred F.). THE COURT OF
A S.AINT. lUustrated. Detny Svo.
10s. td. net.
*Lamb (Charies and Mary). THE
WORKS. Edited with an Introduction
and Notes by E, "V, LuCAS. A New and
Revised Edition in Six Volumes. With
Frontispiece. Fcap Svo. 51, each. The
volumes are : —
1, Miscellaneous Prose, 11, Elia and
THE LAST EsS.WS OF EliA. III. BoOKS
FOE Children, iv. Plays and Poems,
V, and VI. Letters,
Lane-PooIe (Stanley). A HISTORY OF
EGYPT IN THE MIDDLE AGES.
Illustrated, Cr. Zvo. ts. ¦
Lankester (Sir Ray). SCIENCE FROM
AN EASY CHAIR. IUustrated. Fifth
Edition. Cr. Zvo, 6s.
Le Braz (Anatolo). THE LAND OF
PARDONS. Translated by Frances M.
Gostling. lUustratetl. Third Editiotu
Qr. Svo. 61.

8

, Methuen and Company Limited

Lindsay (Mabel M.), ANN! DOMINI:
A GosrEL Study. With Maps. Tw^
Volumes, Super Royal %VQ. lox. mU
Lock fWaltep). ST. PAUL, THE
MASTER-BUILDER. Third Edition.
Cr, %V0. r^S, 6d.
THE BIBLE ANT> CHRISTIAN LIFE.
Cr. Zvo. ts*
Lodge (Sir Oliverl. THE SUBSTANCE
OF FAITH, ALLIED WITH SCIENCE:
A Catechisai for Parents and Teachers.
Eleventh Edition. Cr. Zvo. us. net.
MAN AND THE UNIVERSE: A Studt
OF THE Influence of thb Advance in
Scientific Knowledge upon oua under
standing OF Chsisti ANITY. Ninth
Edition, Demy Zto. k.s. net,
THE SURVIVAL OF Sian. a Study in
Unrecognised H'jm.\n Faculty. Fifth
Edition. Wide Cro^'n Zvo. 5J. mt.
REASON AND BELIEF. Fifth EdiHon.
Cr. Zvo. y. td. net.
Lor!mep (Geopga Horace). LETTERS
FROM A SELF-MADE MERCHANT
TO HIS SON. Illustrated. Twenty-second
Edition. Cr, Svo. v. td,
OLD GORGON GRAHAM. IUustrated,
Second Editum. Cr. Svo, dr.
•Loyal Servlteup.' THK STORY OF
BAYARD. Adapted by Amy G. Andrewrs.
Illustrated. Cr. 6ik». as. td.
Lucas (E. v.), THE LIFE OF CHARLES
LAMB. Illustrated. Fifth Edition, Demy
Bva. ys. td. net.
A WANDERER IN HOLLAND. IIIus-
trated. Thtrieenth Edition. Cr. Zvo, ts.
*Also Fcap. %vo. 5J.
A WANDERER IN LONDON. Illus
trated. T'lvelfth EditioTt. Cr. Zvo. ts.
*A Iso Fcap. Zvo. $s.
A WANDERER IN PARIS. Illustrated.
Ninth Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
Also Serenth Editum. Fcap, Zvo. 51.
THE OPEN RO.\D: A Little Book for
Wayfarers. Eighteenth Edition. Fcap.
Zvo. 5s. ; India Paper-, -js. td.
THE FRIENDLY TOWN : a Little Book
for the Urbane. Sixth Edition- Fcap. Bva.
5J-. ; India Fafier^ -js. td.
FIRESIDE AND SUNSHINE. Si:ctk
Edition. Fcap. Zvo. 55.
CHARACTER AND COMEDY. Sixth
Edition. Fcnp. Zvo. 5.?.
THE GENTLEST ART. A Choice of
Letters by Entertaining Hands. Seventh
Editioti. Fcap Zvo. 5J.
THE SECOND POST. Third Edition.
Fcap. Zvo. CJ.
A SWAN AND HER FRIENDS. Illus
trated. Demy Zvo. i2j. td. ntt.
HER INFINITE VARIETY : A Ffmininb
Poktr.mt Gallery, Sixth Edition.
Fcap. Zvo. 5J,

GOOD COMPANY: A Rally of Mhn.
Second Edition. Fcap. Zvo. $s.
ONE DAY AND ANOTPIER. Fifth
Edition. Fea/. Zvo, 5*.
OLD LAMPS FOR NEW. Fourth Edition.
Fcap. Zvo. $s.
LISTENER'S LURE : An Oblique Nar
ration. Ninth Edition. FcaP. Zvo. cj;
OVER BEMERTON'S: An Easy-Going
Chronicle. Ninth Edition, Fcap. Svo.
5-r-
MR. INGLESIDE. Ninth Edit iom, Fcap.
Zvo. 5j.
See also Lamb (Charles^
*Lydekkep(R. and Othersl. REPTILES,
AMPHIBIA. AND FISHES. Illustrated.
Demy Zvo. lOi". td. net^
Lydekkei- (R.> THE OX. Illnstrated.
Cr, Zvo. ts.
Macaulay (Lord), CRITICAL AND
HISTORICAL ESSAYS. Edited by F.
C. AIontacuk. Three Volumes. Cr. Zvo.
McCabe (Josephi. THE DECAY OF
THE CHURCH OF ROME. Third
Edition. Demy Zvo. ys. td. net,
THE EMPRESSES OF ROME. IUus
trated. Demy Zvo. 12.1. td. net.
MacCarthy (Desmond) and Russell
(Agatba). LADY JOHN RUSSELL;
A Memoir. Illustrated. Fourth EditioTU
Demy Zvo. ros. td. net.
McCullasfh (Francis). THE FALL OF
ABD-UL-HAMID. IUustrated. Demy
Zvo. loj. td. net.
•MacDonagh (Michael). THESPEAKER
OF THE HO USK Demy Zvo. 10s. td.
net.
McDougall (Wnilam). AN INTRODUC
TION TO SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY.
Fourth Edition. Cr. Zvo. 5J. net.
BODY AND MIND : A History and a
Defence OF Animism. Demy Zvo. xos. dd.
net,
' Mdlle. Mori * (Author of). ST. CATHER
INE OF SIENA AND HER TIMES.
Illustrated. Second EdiiioTu Demv Zvo.
ys. td. net.
Maeterlinck (Maurice). THE BLUE
BIRD : A Fairy Play in Six Acts.
Translated by Alexander Teixeira db
Mattos. T-wentieth Edition. Fea}. Zvo.
Deckle Edges, y. td. net. Also 1 iventy^
seventh Edition. Fcap, Zvo. Cloth, ts. net.
THE BLUE BIRD: A Fairy Play in Six
Acts. Translated by Alexander TErxEinA
DE Mattos. Illustrated. 'J luenty-f/th
Edition. Cr.^to. -zis.net.
MARY MAGDALENE: A Plat in Thheb
Acts. Translated by Alexander Teixeira
DE Mattos. Third Edition, Fcap, Zvo.
Deckle £. dges, y. td. mt.

General Literature

Mahaffy (J.T.l. A HISTORY OF EGYPT
UNDER THE PTOLEMAIC DYNASTY.
lUusCrUed. Cr. Svo. ts,
BTaltland (F. W.). ROMAN CANON
LAW IN THE CHURCH OJ ENG
LAND. Royal Zvo. ys. 6d.
Harett (R. R.), THE THRESHOLD OF
REUGION. Cr. Svo. 3J. td. net,
Marriott (Charles). A SPANISH HOLI-
DAY. Illustrated, Demy Svo, ys. td. nei.
THE ROMANCE OF THE RHINE,
Illustrated, Detny Svo, xor. 6d. nei,
Marriott (J. A. R.). THE LIFE AND
TIMES OF LUCIUS CARY, VISCOUNT
FALICLAND, Illustrated. Second Editiotu
Detny Svo, ys. td, net,
Masefield (John), SEA LIFE IN NEL
SON S TIME. IUustrated. Cr, Svo.
3f . td. net.
A S.^ILOR'S GARLAND, Selected and
Edited. Secottd Editiotu Cr, Svo, y. 6d,
net.
Masterman (C. F. G,). TENNYSON
AS A RELIGIOUS TEACHER, Second
Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s,
THE CONDITION OF ENGLAND.
Fourth Edition, Cr, Svo, 6s,
Medley (D, J.). ORIGINAL ILLUS-
TRAnONS OF ENGLISH CONSTITU
TIONAL HISTORY. Cr.Svo, ys.td.net.
Meldrum (D. S.). HOME LIFE IN
HOLLAND. IUustrated, Second Edition.
Detny Svo. 10s. td, net,
Methuen (A, M. S). ENGLAND'S RUIN :
Disct;ssED IN Fourteen Letters to a
Protectionist. Ninth Edition. Cr. Svo.
yi. net,
Meynell (Everard). COROT AND HIS
FRIENDS. IUustrated. Demy Svo. 10s. td.
net.
Miles (Eustaee). LIFE AFTER LIFE:
OR, The Theory of Rxincaknation.
Cr. Svo. as. td. nei,
THE POWER OK CONCENTRATION :
How TO .Acquire it. Third Edition.
Cr. Zvo. 3J. td. net.
Millals (J. C). THE LIFE AND LET
TERS OF SIR JOHN EVERETT
WILLAIS, ' Illustrated. Keio Edition.
Dettty Zvo. ys, td. net.
Milne (J. G,), A HISTORY OF EGYPT
UNDER ROMAN RULE. Illustrated.
Cr. Zvo, 6s,
Moffat (Mary M.). QUEEN LOUISA OF
PRUSSIA. Illustrated. Fourth Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts. . ,j,
II.-\RI,\ THERESA. Ulustrated. xos. td,
net.

Honey (L. G. Chlozzal. RICHES AND
POVERTY, 1910, Tenth and Revised
Editiotu Detny Svo. 5r. net.
MONEYS FISCAL DICTIONARY, 1910.
Second Edition, Detny Svo, ^s. net.
Montague (C.E.). DRAMATIC VALUES,
Secottd Editiotu Fcap, Svo, ss,
Hoorhouse (E. Hallam). NELSON'S
LADY HAMILTON. Illustrated. Third
Editiotu Detny Svo, ys. td. net.
Morgan (J. H.), THE HOUSE OF LORDS
AND THE CONSTITUITON. With au
Introduction by the LoRS CUAHCEU.OB.
Cr. Zva. IS. nei,
NevlII aady Dorothy), UNDER FIVE
REIGNS. Edited by her son. Illustrated.
Fifth Edition, Detny Szw. ly. f^i.
Norway (A. H.). NAPLES. Past and
Present, Illustrated. Fourth Editiotu
Cr. Svo, 6s,
Oman (C. W. C), A HISTORY OF THE
ART OF WAR IN THE MIDDLE
AGES, IUustrated. Demy Zvo, 10s. td.
net.
ENGLAND BEFORE THE NORMAN
CONQUEST. With Maps, Secottd
Editioru Detny Zvo, 10s. td, tiet.
Oxford (W, N.), A HANDBOOK OF
NURSING. Fifth Edition. Cr. Svo.
V.td.
Pakes (W. C. C), THE SaENCE OF
HYGIENE. Illustrated, Second and
' Clieaper Editiotu Cr-. Svo, 5*. net,
Parker (Erie). THE BOOK OF THE
ZOO; Bv Dat and Night, lUustrated.
Secottd Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
Pears (Sir Edwin). TURKEY AND ITS
PEOPLE. Secottd Editiotu Demy Svo.
zas, td. tut,
Petrie (W. M, Flinders), A HISTORV
OF EGYPT, Illustrated. In Six Volumes.
Cr. Svo. ts. each.
Vol. I. From the 1st to the XVIth
DYNA.STY. Sevetith Edition.
Vol- II. The XVIIth and XVIHth
Dynasties. Fourth Etlition.
Vol. IH. XIXth to XXXth Dynasties.
Vol. IV. EtJYPT under the Ptolemaic
Dynasty. J. P. Mahaffy.
Vol. V. Egypt under Roman Rule. J, G.
Milne,
Vol, VI, Egyft in thk Middls Ages.
Stanley Lane-Poole,
RELIGION AND CONSCIENCE IN
ANCIENT EGYPT. IUustrated Cr. Svo.
SYRIA AND EGYPT, FROM THE TELL
EL AMARNA LETTERS. Cr. Svo.
as. td.

10

Methuen and Company Limited

EGYPTIAN TALES. Translated from tha
Papyri, First Series, rvth to Xllth Dynasty.
Illustrated. Second Editiote. Cr. Svo.
%s.td,
EGYPTIAN TALES. Translated from the
Papyri. Second Series, xvillth to xixth
Dynasty. Illustrated. Cr. Svo. 3J. td.
EGYPTIAN DECORATIVE ART. Illus
trated, Cr. Svo, 3r, td.
Phelps (Ruth S.), SKIES ITALIAN t A
Littlk Breviary for Travellers in
Italy, Fcap. Zvo. 51. net.
Podmore (Frank), MODERN SPIRIT
UALISM, Two Volumes. Dettty Svo.
me'smerism and christian
SCIENCE: A Short History of Mental
Healing. Second Editiotu Detny Zvo,
10s. td. nei.
Pollard (Alfred W.). SHAKESPEARE
FOLIOS AND QUARTOS. A Study in
the Bibliography of Shakespeare's Plays,
1594-1685. Illustrated. Folia, ais. net.
•Porter (G. K.) THE PROGRESS OF
THE NATION. A New Edition. Edited
by F. W. Hirst, Detny Svo. ais. ttet.
Powell (Arthur E.). FOOD AND
HEALTH. Cr. Zvo. 31. td. net.
Power (J. O'Connor). THE MAKING OF
AN ORATOR, Cr. Zvo. ts.
•Price (Eleanor C). CARDINAL DE
RICHELIEU, Illustrated, Second Edition.
Detny Svo. 10s. td. nei.
Price (L. L.). A SHORT HISTORY OF
POLITICAL ECONOMY IN ENGLAND
FROM ADAM SMITH TO ARNOLD
TOYNBEE, Seventh Editiotu Cr. Svo.
as. td,
Pycraft (W. P.). A HISTORY OF BIRDS.
Illustrated. Dettty Svo. 10s. 6d. ttet.
•Bappoport (Angelo S.). HOME LIFE IN
RUSSIA. iUusuated. Demy Svo. las. 6d.
net.
Rawlings (Gertrude B,). COINS AND
HOW ro KNOW THEM, IUustrated,
Third Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
Read (C. Stanford), FADS AND FEED
ING. Cr. Svo. as. td. net.
Regan (C. Tate). THE FRESHWATER
FISHES OF THE BRITISH ISLES.
Illustrated, Cr. Zvo. ts.
Reid (Archdall), THE LAWS OF HERE
DITY. Second Editiotu Demy Zvo, ais.
net.
Robertson (C, Grant). SELECT STAT-
UTES, CASES, AND DOCUMENTS,
1660-1894, Demy Svo. 10s. td. net.
ENGL.AND UNDER THE HANOVER
IANS. Illustrated. Second Editioru Detny
Svo. 10s. td, ttet.

Boe (Fred), OLD OAK FURNITURS.
Illustrated, Second Edition. Demy Svo.
IOX, td, net,
Royde-Smlth (N. G.). THE PILLOW
BOOK ; A Garner or Many Moods.
Collected. Second Editiotu Cr. Svo.
4s. td. ttet.
POETS OF OUR DAY. Selected, with an
Introduction. Fcap. Svo. 5;,
Russell (W. Clark), THE LIFE OF
ADMIRAL LORD COLLINGWOOD.
Illustrated, Fourth Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts,
•Ryan (P. F, W.), STUART LIFE AND
MANNERS; A Social History, Illus
trated. Detny Zvo. 10s, td. ttet.
St. Francis of Assisi, THE LITTLE
FLOWERS OF THE GLORIOUS
MESSER, AND OF HIS FRIARS.
Done into English, with Notes hy William
Heywood, Illustrated, Demy Zvo. ss. net.
•Saki' (H, H, Munro), REGINALD,
Third Edition. Fcap. Zvo. as. td. net.
REGINALD IN RUSSIA. Fcap, Svo.
as. td. net.
Sandeman (G, A, C), METTERNICH.
Illustrated. Demy Svo. 10s. td. net.
Selous (Edmund). TOMMY SMITH'S
ANIMALS. Illustrated, Eleventh Edi
tion. Fcap. Svo. as. td.
TOMMY SMITH'S OTHER ANIMALS,
Illustrated. Fifth Editiotu ,Fcap. Svo.
as. td.
JACKS INSECTS. Illustrated. Cr.Svo. tj.
Shakespeare (William).
THE FOUR FOLIOS, 1623; 1633; 1664;
1685, Each £^ 4J. nei, or a complete set,
£ia las. net.
THE POEMS OF WILLIAM SHAKE
SPEARE. With an Introduction and Notes
by George Wyndhau, Demy Svo. Buck'
ratit. 10s. td.
Sharp (A.). VICTORI.\N POETS, Cr.
Zvo. as. td.
Sidgwick (Mrs. Alfred). HOME LIFE
IN GERMANY. Illustrated. Second
Edition. Dettty Zvo. 10s. td, ttet,
Sladen (Douglas). SICILY: The New
Winter Resort. Illustrated. Secottd Edition.
Cr. Svo. 5s. nei.
Smith (Adam). THE WEALTH OF
NATIONS. Edited by Edwin Cahnan.
Two Volutnes, Demy Zvo, ais. ttet.
•Smith (G. Herbert). GEMS AND
PRECIOUS STONES. Illustrated. Cr.
Svo, ts,
SneU (F. J). A BOOK OF EXMOOR.
lUustrated. Cr. Svo. tf.

General Literature

•Stancliffe.' GOLF DO'S AND DONT'S.
Fourth Edition. Fcap. Zvo. is. ttet.
Stevenson (R. L.). THE LETTERS OF
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON, Edited
by Sir SiD.vEV Colvin. A Nevt attd En
larged Edition in 4 volutnes. Third Edi
tion. Fcap. Svo. Leather, each ss. net.
VAILIMA LETTERS. With an Etched
Portrait by William Strang. Ninth
Edition. Cr. Svo. Bitchratn. ts.
THE LIFE OF R. L, STEVENSON, See
Balfour (G.).
Stevenson (M. I.). FROM SARANAC
TO THE MARQUESAS AND BEYOND,
Bein^ Letters wntten by Mrs, M. I. Steven-
«riv during 1887-88. Cr, Svo. ts. net.
LETTERS FROM SAMOA, 1891-95. Edited
and arranged by M. C. Balfour. Illus
trated. Second Edition. Cr. Svo, 6s. nei.
Storr (Vernon F.). DEVELOPMENT
AND DIVINE PURPOSE. Cr. Svo. 51.
nei.
Streatfeild (R. A-). MODERN MUSIC
AND MUSICIANS. Illustrated. Second
Edition. Demy Zvo. ys. td. net,
Swanton (E. W.). FUNGI AND HOW
TO KNOW THEM. lUustrated. Cr. Zvo.
ts. net.
Sykes (Ella C), PERSIA AND ITS
PEOPLE, lUustrated, Detny Svo. 10s. td.
net.
Symes (J. E.). THE FRENCH REVO
LUTION. Second Edition. Cr. Zvo. as. td.
Tabor (Margaret E.). THE SAINTS IN
ART. Illustrated. Fcap. Svo. sr. td, net.
Taylor (A. E.). THE ELEMENTS OF
MET.APHYSICS. Second Edition. Demy
Svo. 10s. td. ttet.
Thibaudeau (A. C). BONAPARTE AND
THE CONSULATE. Translated and
Edited by G. K. Fortescue. IUustrated.
Demy Zvo. - 10s. td. net.
Thomas (Edward). MAURICE MAE
TERLINCK. Illustrated. Second Edition.
Cr. Zvo. 5J. net.
Thompson (Francis). SELECTED
POEMS OF FR.ANCIS THOMPSON.
With a Biographical Note by Wilfrid
Mevnell. With a Portrait iu Photogca\'ure,
Seventh Edition. Fcap. Zvo, ss, net.
Tileston (Mary W.). DAILY STRENGTH
FOR DAILY NEEDS. Eighteettth Edi
tion. Medium ittno. as. td. tiet. Latith-
skin 31. td. ttet. Also an edition in superior
binding, 6r, 
THE STRONGHOLD OF HOPE:
Mediutn itttio, as. td. rut.
Toynbee (Paget). DANTE ALIGHIERI ;
His Lifs and Wori^s. With 16 Illustra
tions, Fourth and Enlarged Editiotu Cr.
Svo. sr. net.

II
Trench (Herbert.) DEIRDRE WEDDED,
and othe-=i Poems. Second and Revised
Edition. Large Post S-vo. ts.
NEW POEMS, Second Edition. Large Posi
Svo. ts.
APOLLO AND THE SEAMAN. Large
Post Svo. Paper, is. td. nel; cloth, as. bd.
tut.
Trevelyan (G. M.), ENGLAND UNDER
THE SlUARTS. With Maps and Plans.
Fifth Edition. Demy Zvo. 10s. td. net.
Triggs (Inigo H,). TOWN PLANNING :
Past, Present, and Possible, Illustra
ted. Second Editiotu Wide Royal Zvo.
iSs. ttet.
Underbill (Evelyn). MYSTICISM. A
Study in the Nature and Development of
Man's Spiritual Consciousness, Third Edi
tion. Dettty Svo. iss. net.
Vaughan (Herbert M,), THE NAPLES
RIVIERA. Illustrated. Secottd Editiotu
Cr. Zvo, ts.
FLORENCE AND HER TREASURES.
Illustrated. Fcap. Zvo, sr, net.
Vernon (Hon. W. Warren). RE.ADINGS
ON THE INFERNO OF DANTE. With
an Introduction by tho Rev, Ds, Moore,
Ttvo Volumes, Second Editiotu Cr. Zvo.
iSS. nei.
READINGS ON THE PURGATORIO
OF D.ANTE. With an Introduction by
the late Dean Church, Two Volumes.
Third Editiotu Cr. Svo. iss. nei.
READINGS ON THE PARADISO OF
DANTE. With an Introduction by tho
Bishop of Ripon. Two Volutnes. Secottd
Editiotu Cr. Zvo. i^s. net.
Waddell, (Col. L. A.). LHASA AND ITS
MYSTERIES. With a Record of the Ex
pedition of 1903-1904. IUusuated, Third
attd C/uaper Editiotu Mediutn Svo, ys.td,
net.
Wagner (Richard). RICHARD WAG
NER'S MUSIC DRAMAS: Interpreta-
tions, embodying Wagner's own explana
tions. By Alice Leighton Cleathkr
and Basil Crump. Fcap. Zvo. as. td. each.
The Ring of the Nibelung.
Fifth Edition,
Tristan and Isolde.
Waterhouse (Elizabeth). WITH THE
SIMPLE-HEARTED: Litde Homilies to
Women in Country Places, i Itird Edition.
Small Pott Zvo. as. net.
THE HOUSE BY THE CHERRY TREE.
A Second Series of Little Homilies to
Women in Country Places, StttaUPott Svo,
as. net,
COMPANIONS OF THE WAY. Being
Selections for Moming and Evening Read-
ing. Chosen and arranged by Elizabeth
Waterhouse. Large Cr. Zvo. sr, net.
THOUGHTS OF A TERTIARY. Smaa
Pott Zvo, IS, net.

13

Methuen and Company Limited

Waters (W. G.). ITALIAN SCULPTORS
AND S.MITHS. Illustrated, Cr, Svo.
ys, td. net.
•Watt (Francis), EDINBURGH AND
THE LOTHIANS, Illustrated, Second
Edition. Cr. Svo. ys. td. net.
Welgall (Arthur E. P.). A GUIDE TO
THE ANTIQUITIES OF UPPER
EGYPT: From Abydos to the Sudan
Frontier. Illustrated. Cr. Svo. ys. td. tut.
Welch (Catharine). THE LITTLE
DAUPHIN. Illustrated, Cr. Svo. ts.
Wells (J.), OXFORD AND OXFORD
LU'E. Third Edition. Cr.Svo. zs. td.
A SHORT HISTORY OF RO.ME. Eleventh
Edition. With 3 Maps. Cr. Zvo. ^s. td.
Westell (W. Percival), THE YOUNG
NATURALIST. Illustrated. Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE YOUNG ORNITHOLOGIST. IUus
trated. Cr. Zvo, SJ.
Westell (W. Percival). and Cooper (G. S.).
THE YOUNG BOTANIST. Illustrated.
Cr. Svo. 31. td. net.
White (George F.). A CENTURY OF
SPAIN AND PORTUGAL, 1788-1898.
Demy Svo. las. td. net.
Wilde (Oscar). DE PROFUNDI S,
Tiuelfth Editiotu Cr. Zvo. sr. net.
THE WORKS OF OSCAR WILDE, In
Twelve Volumes. Fcap. Zvo. sr. net each
volume. I, Lord Arthur Savile's Crime and
the Portrait of Mr, W, H, ii. The
DfCHEss OF Padua, iil Poems. iv,
L.^dy Windermere's Fan. v. A Woman
op No Importance, vi. An Ideal Hus
band, VII, The I.mportancb op being
Earnest. viii. A House of Pome-
cr.\nates, rx. Intentions, x. De Pro-
FUNDis AND Prison Letters, xi. Essays.
xii. SalomS, a Florentinb Tragedy,
and La Sainte Courtisane.

Williams (H. Noel). THE WOMEN.
BONAPAKTES. The Mother and three
Sisters of Napoleon. Illustrated. In Two
Volumes. Demy Zvo. a\s. nei.
A ROSE OF SAVOY : Marie Adelaide of
Savoy, Duchrsse de Bourcogne, Mother
of Louis xv. Illustrated. Second
Edition. Demy Zvo. iss. net.
THE FASCINATING DUG DE RICHE
LIEU: Louis Francois Armand du
Plessis (1696-1788). Illustrated. Demy Zvo.
ISS. ttet.
A PRINCESS OF ADVENTURE : Marie
Caroline, Duchessb de BbiRRT (1798-
1870). IllustratecL Demy Zvo. 151. net.

Wood (Sir Evelyn). FROM MIDSHIP-
MAN TO FIELD-AIARSHAL. Illustra
ted, Fifth and Cheaper Edition. Dettty
Svo. ys. td. net.
THE REVOLT IN HINDUSTAN, 1857-
Sg, Illustrated, Second Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.

Wood (W, Birkbeck), and Edmonds
(LIeut,-CoI, J, E.). A HISTORY OF
THE CIVIL WAR IN THE UNITED
STATES {i8«t-5). With an Introduction
by H. Spenser Wilkinson, With 24 Maps
and Plans, T^ird Editiotu Demy Svo.
xas. td. rut.

Wordsworth (W.), THE POEMS. With
an Introduction and Notes by Nowell
C. S.MiTH. In Three Volumes. Detny Svo.
ISS. rut.

Wyllle (H. A.). NORWAY AND ITS
FJORDS. IUustrated. Second Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts.

Teats (W. B.). A BOOK OF IRISH
VERSE. Third Edition. Cr. Svo. 3^. td.

Part IL — A Selection of Series,

Ancient Cities.
General Editor, B. C. A. WINDLK
Cr. Svo. us. 6ti. nit each volume.
With Illustrations by E. H. New, and other Artists.
Edinburgh. M, G. WUliimson.

Bristol. Alfred Harvey.
Canterbury, J. C. Cojc.
Chester. B. C. A. Windle,
Dublin. S. A. O. Fitzpatrick.

Lincoln. E, Mansel Sympson.
Shrewsbury, T, Auden.
WsLLS and GiAsTONBuxr, T, S, HoUnes.

General Literature

13

The Antiquary's Books.
General Editor, J. CHARLES COX.
Demy %vo. 7j. ^d, net each volume:.
With Numerous Illustrations.

Akcw.«oloct and Faub Antiquitibs.
R. Munro.
Bells of England, Thb. Canon J. J. Raven.
Second Edition.
Brasses of ENGLANi>r Thr. Herbert W.
Macklin. Second Edition.
Celtic Art in Pagan and Christian
Times. J. Romilly Allen. Second Edition,
Castles and Walled Towns of England.
A. Harvey.
Domesday Inqoest, Thb. Adolpbns Ballard.
English Church Furniture. J. C. Cox
and A.-Harvey. Second Edition,
Engush Costume. From Prehistoric Times
to the End of the Eighteenth Century.
Gftorge Clinch.
English Monastic Life. The Right Rev.
Abbot Gasquet. Fourth Edition.
Encush Seals. J. Harvey Bloom.
FoLK-LORE AS AN HiSTORICAI. SCIBKCK.
Sir G. L. Gomme.
Gilds and Companibs or_ London, Thb.
George Unwin,

Manor and Manorial Records, The.
Nathaniel J. Hone.
Medieval Hospitals of England, The.
Roth a Mary Clay.
Old English Instruments of Music.
F, W. Galpin. Second Edition.
Old English Libeiariss. James Hutt.
Old Service Books of the English
Church. Christopher Wordsworth, and
Henry Littlehales. Second Edition.
Parish Life in Mediaeval England.
The Right Rev. Abbot Gasquet. Third
Edition.
Parish Registers of 'England, The,
J. C. Cox.
Remains o» thb Prehistoric Age in
England. B. C. A. Windle, Second
Edition,
Roman Era in Britain, The. J. Ward.
Roman-British Buildings and Earth
works. J. Ward.
Royal Forests of England, The. J. C.
Cox.
Shrikes or BsrrisH Saints. J. C Wall,

The Arden Shakespeare. .
Demy Svo, 2s, 6d, nd each volume:.
An edition of Sbalcespeare in single Plays ; each edited with a full Introduction,
Textual Notes, and a Coinmentary at the foot of the page.

All's Well That Ends Well,
Antony and Cleopatra.
Cymbeline.
Comedy of Errors, Thk.
Hamlet. Third Edition,
Julius Caesar.
King Henry iv. Pt. i.
King Henry v.
King Henry vi. Pt. i.
King Henry vi. Pt. n.
Ki.vg Hfnrv VI. Pt. hi.
King Lear.
King Richard hi.
Life and Death of King John, Thb.
Love's Labour's Lost.
Macbeth.

Measure for Measure.
Merchant of Venice, The.
Merry Wives of Windsor, The.
Midsummer Night's Dream,. A.
Othello.
Pericles. RoMBO and JULtET.
Taming of the Shrew, Thb.
Tempest, The.
TiMON OF Athens.
Titus Andronicus.
Troilus and Crbssida.
Two Gentlemen of Verona, Thh.
Twelfth Night.
Venus and Adonis.

14

Methuen and Company Limited

Classics of Art.
Edited by Dr. J. H. W. LAING.
TViih numerous Illustrations, Wide Royal %vo.

The Art of thb Greeks. H. B. Walters.
\is. td. net.
The Art of the Romans. H. B. Walters.
15J. net.
Chardin. H. E. A. Furst. 12J. td. net.
Donatello. Maud Cruttwell. 15^. net.
Florentine Sculptors of the Renais
sance. Wilhelm Bode. Translated by
Jessie Haynes. i2x. td, net.
Georgk Romney. Arthur B. Chamberlain.
12J. td. net.
Ghirlandaio. Gerald S. Davies. Second
Edition., lar. td.

Michelangelo. Gerald S. Daviei. xns. td.
net.
RuDENS, Edward Dillon, 35J. net,
Raphael. A. P. Oppi. Z2s. td net.
Rembrandt's Etchings. A. M. Hind.
Titian. Charles Ricketts. s.2s. td. net.
Tintoretto. Evelyn March Phillipps. 15^.
net.
Turner's Sketches and Drawings. A. J.
Finosrg. I2J. td. net. Second Edition.
Velazquez. A. de Bemete. xas, td. mU

The Complete Series.
Fully Jllustraled, Demy %V9,

Thb Complete Billiard Player- Charles
Roberts. lor. td. net.
Thb Complete Cook. Lilian Whitling.
7j. td mt.
The Complete Cricketer. Albert E.
Knight, ys. td, mt. Second Edition.
The Complete Foxhunter. Charles Rich
ardson. laJ. td. net. Second Edition.
The Complete Golfer. Harry Vardon.
lOJ. td. mt. Tiuelfth Edition.
The Complete Hockev-P layer. Eustace
E. White. %s. net. Second Edition.
The Complete Lawn Tennis Plavbr.
A. Wallis Myers, loj. td. net. Third
Edition^ Rexnsed

ThB COMPLEtE'*MOTORI.<!T. Filson Young.
12J. td. net, Nrw Edition (^Seventh').
The Complete Mountaineer. G. D.
Abraham. 151". net. Second Edition,
The Completb Oaksman. R. C Lehmann.
lof. td net.
The Complete Photographer. R. Child
Bayley. loj. td. net. Fourth Edition.
The Complete Rugdv Footballer, on the
New, Zealand System. D. Gallaher and
W. J. Stead, ioj. td. n^t. Second Edition.
The Completb Shot. G. T. Teasdala
BuckclL I2J. td. mt. Third Edition.

The Connoisseur's Library,
With numerous Illustrations, Wide Royal Zvo. 25J. net each volume.

English Furniture. F. S. Robinson.
English Coloured Books. Martin Hardie.
Etchings. Sir F. Wcdmore.
European Enamels. Henry H, Cunyng-
hame.
Glass. Edward Dillon.
Goldsmith-s' and Silversmiths* Work.
Nelson Dawson. Second Edition.
Illuminated- MANUSCRiPTSi J. A. Herbert.
Second EditioJt,

Ivories. Alfred MaskelL
Jewellery. H. Clifford Smith. Second
Edition.
Mezzotints. Cyril Davenport.
Miniatures. Dudley Heath.
PORCiO-AiN. Edward Dillon.
Seals. Walter de Gray Birch.
Wood Sculpture. Alfred Maskcll, Second
Editiofi,

General Literature

XS

Handbooks of English Church History.
Edited by J. H. BURN, Crmiin &oe. 2s. 6ci, net each vabimt.

The T'oo-.vda.tions of tk3 Encusb Church.
j, H. Maude.
The S.^xo.N Church and thb Nokhan Con
quest. C. T. Cruttwell.
Thb jrEDIyEVAL Church and thb Fapact.
A. C. Jennings.

The Reformation Period. Htnry G«e.
The Struggle wiT« Puritanism. Brace
Bldjcland.
The Church of England in the Eigh
teenth Century. Alfied Pluiomer.

Handbooks of Theology.

The Doctrine of the Incarnation. R. L.
Ottley. Fifth Edition, Revised, Demy
Svo. izr, td,
A History of Early Christian Doctrine.
J, F. Eethune-Baker. Demy Zvo. los. td,
Av In-teoouction to the History of
Religion. F. B, Jevons. Fifth Edition,
1 Demy Sv*. xor, td.

An Introduction to the History of th*
Creeds. A. E. Bum. Demy Svo. zos. td.
The Philosophy of Religion in England
AND America. Alfred Caldecott. DetnySvo.
lOS. td.
The xxxix. Articles of the Church of
England. Edited by E. C S. Gibson.
Seventh Edition, Detny Svo, xas. td.

The Illustrated Pocket Library of Plain and Coloured Books.
Fcap. Svo. 3x. dd. net each volume.
WITH coloured illustrations.

Old Coloured Books. George Faston. as.
tut.
The Life and Death of John Mytton,
Esq. Nimrod. Fifth Edition.
The Life of a Sportsman, Nimrod,
Handley Cross. R. S. Surtecs. Fourth
Edition.
Me. Sponge's Sporting Tour.
Snrtces. Second Edition.

R. S.
R. s.

JoRROCKs's Jaunts and Jollities.
Surtees. Third Editiotu
Ask Mamila, R, S. Snrtees,
The Analysis of the Hunting Field.
R. S. Surtecs,
The Tour of Dr. Syntax in Search of
THE Picturesque. William Comb«.
The Tour of Dr. Syntax in Search of
Consolation. William Combe.
The Third Tour of Dr. Syntax in Seakcx
of a Wife. William Combe.
The History of Johnny Quae Genus.
tbe Autbor of * The Three Tours.'
The English Dance of Death, from the
Designs of T. Rowlandson, with Metrical
Illustrations by the Author of 'Doctor
Syntax.' Two Volumes.

The Dance OF Life: A Poem. The Auther
of ' Dr, Syntax.*
Life in London, Pierce Cgao.
^EAL Life in London. An Amateur (Pierce
Egan). T-wo Volutnes.
The Life of an Actor. Pierce Egan.
The Vicar of Wakefield. Oliver Gold
smith,
The Military Adventures of Johsnt
Newcombe. An Officer.
The National Sports of Great BRrrAt:f.
With Descriptions and 50 Coloured Platos by
Henry Aiken.
The Adventures of a Post Cattaik.
A Naval Officer.
Gamonia. Lawrence Rawstome.
As Academy for Grown Horsemem,
Geoffrey Gambado.
Real Life in Ireland. A Real Paddy.
The Adventures of Johnny Newcomde is
the Navy. Alfred Burton.
The Old Engusk Squire. John Careless.
The English Spy, Bernard Blackmantle.
T-wo Volumes, ys. net.

i6

Methuen and Company Limited

WITH PLAIN ILLUSTRATIONS.

The Grave: A Poem. Robert Blair.
Illustrations op thk Book of Job. In-
I vented and engraved by William Elake.
Wi.sDSoR Ca.stls. W. Harrison Ainsworth.
Tms Tower ov London. W. Harrlsoa
Ainsworth.

Frank Fairlech. F. E. Smedley.
Handy Andy. Samuel Lover,
The Co.mpleat Angler. Izaak Walton and
Charles Cotton.
Thb Pickwick Papers, Charles Dickens.

Leaders of Religion.
Edited by H. C. EEECHING. With Portraits,
Crown Svo, zs, net each volume.

Cardinal Newman. R. H. Hutton.
John Wesley. J. H. Overton.
Bishop Wilberforce, G. W. DanielL
Cardinal Manning, A. W. Hutton.
Charles Simeon. H. C. G. Moule.
John Knox. F. MacCunn. Second Editum.
John Howk. R. F. Horton.
Thomas Ken. F. A. Clarke,
Gkorgb Fox, the Quaker. T. Hodgkin.
Third Edition.
John Keble. Walter Lock.

Thomas Chalmers.
Edition.

Mrs. Ollphant. Second

Lancelot Andrewes. R. L. Ottley. Second
Edition.
Augustine of Canterbury. E. L. Cutts.
William Laud. W. H. Hutton. Third Ed.
John Donne. Augustus Jessop.
Thomas Cranmer. A. J. Mason.
BisHOi* Latimer. R. M. Carlyle and A. J.
Carlyle.
Bishop Butler, W. A. Spooner.

The Library of Devotioni?
With Introductions and (where necessary) Notes.
Small Pott %vOy cloth, 2s. ; leather, 2s, 6d, net each volume,
OF St. Augustine,

The Confessions
Sevefith Edition.
The Lmitation op Christ. Si^th Edition.
The Christian Year, Fifth Edition,
Lyra Innocentium. Second Editioru.
The Temple. Second Edition.
A Book of Devotions. Second Edition.
A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy
Life. Fourth Edition.
A Guide to Eternity.
The Inner Way. Second Edition,
On the Lo-v-e of God.
The Psalms of David,
Lyra Apostolica.
The Song op Songs.
The Thoughts of Pascal. Second Edition.
A Manual op Consolation from the
Saint s and Fathers.
Devotions from the Apocrypha.
The Spiritoal Combat.
The Devotions of St. Anselm.
Bishop Wilson's Sacra Privata-

Grack Abounding to the Chief of Sin-
neks.
Lyra Sacra : A Book of Sacred Vcr5e.
Second Edition,

A Day Book
Fathers.

from thk Saints and

A Little Book of Heavenly Wisdom. A
Selection from the English Mystics-
Light, Life, and Love. A Selection from
the German Mystics.
An Introduction to the Devout Life.
The Little Flowers op the Glorious
Messer St. Francis and of his Friars.
Death and Immortality.
Thb Spiritual Guide. Second Edition,
Devotions for Every Day in the Week
AND THE Great Festivals.
Precbs Privat.*.
Hor« Mystic,« : A Day Book from the
Wriiings of Mystics of Many Natioiii.

General Literature

i;

Little Boots on Art.
With many Illustrations. Demy i(>tno. 2s. (xl. net' each volume.
Each volume consists of about 200 pages, and contains from 30 to 40 Illustrations,
including a Frontispiece in Photogravure.

AlehechtDOrer. J. Allen.
Arts o? Japan, The. E. Dillon. Third
Edition.
Bookplates. E. Almack,
Botticelli, Mary L. Bonnor.
EuRNE-JoNEs. F. de Lisle-
Christian Symbolism, Mrs. H, Jcnner.
Chsist in Art. Mrs, H. Jcnner,
Claude. E. Dillon,
Constable. H. W. Tompldns. Second
Editiotu
CoEOT. A. Pollard and E. Bimstingi,
Enamels. Mrs, N, Dawson, Second Edition,
Frederic Leighton. A. Corkran.
George Romney, G. Paston,
Greek .Art, H.B.Walters, Fourth Edition,
Gksuzs icio Boucher, E, F. Pollard.

Holbein. Mrs. G. Fortescue.
Illuminated Manuscripts. J, W, Bradley.
Jewellery, C, Davenport,
John Hoppher. H. P. K. SUipton.
Sir Joshua Reynolds. J. Sime. Second
Editioti.
Millet. N, Peacock.
Miniatures, C, Davenport.
Our Lady in Art. Mrs. H- Jenncr.
Raphael. A. R. Dryhurst.
Rembrandt. Mrs, E, A. Sharp.
Turner. F. Tyrrell-GilL
Vasdyck. M, G. Smallwood.
Velasquez. W. Wilberforce and A. R.
Gilbert.
Watts. R. E. D. Sketchley.

The Little Galleries.
Demy l6mo, is. 6d. net each volume.
Each volume contains 20 plates in Photogravure, together with a short outliae of
the life and work of the master to whom the book is devoted.

A Little Gallery oe Reynolds.
A Little Gallery of Romney.
A Little Gallery of Hoppner.

A Little Gallery of Millais.
A Little Gallery of Engusu Posts.

The Little Guides.
With many Illustrations by E. H. New and other artists, and from photographs.
Small Pott Svo, cloth, 2s. 6d. net; leather, 31. 6rf. net, each volume.
The main features of these Guides are (l) a handy and charming form ; (2) illus
trations from photographs and by well-known artists ; (3) good plans and maps ; (4)
an adequate but compact presentation of everything that is interesting in the
natural features, history, archeology, and architecture of the town or district treated.
Cambridge and its Colleges. A. H.
Thompson, Third Editioti, Revised.
Channel Islands, The. E. E, BicknelL
Engush Lakes, The, F. G. Brabant.
Isle of Wight, The. G. Qinch,
JLu.v.'ERS Country, The. B, C. A. Windle.
Korth Wales, A. T, Story.
Oxford and its Colleges. J. Wells.
Ninth Edition.

Shakespeare's Coontky, E. C, A. Windle.
Fourth Editiotu
St. Paul's Cathedral. G. Clinch.
Westminster Abbey. G, E. Troutbeck.
Second Editum,

Berkshire, F. G, Brabant.
Buckinghamshire. E. S. Rosco,.
Cheshire.' W. M. Gallichaa.

i8

Methuen and Company Limited

Thb Little Gviuts,.-eoniinuet£.
CoRNVAU. A. Lk Salmon.
DsSBYSHlRE. J. C Cox.
Devon. S. Baring-Gould. Second Edition,
Dorset. F, R. Heath. Secottd Editiotu
Essex. J. C. Cox.
Hampshire. J. C Cox.
Hertfordshire. H. W, Tomplunj.
Kent, G, Clinch.
Kerry. C. P. Crane.
Middlesex. J. B, Firth.
Monmouthshire. G, W, Wade and J, H,
Wade.
Norfolk. W. A. Dutt. Second Edition,
Revised.
Northamptonshire. W. Dry. Second Ed.
Northumberland. J, E. Morris.
Nottinghamshire, L, Guilford.
Oxfordshire. F. G, Brabant.

SOMEDSST. G. W. and J. H. Wade.
Staffordshire. C E. Masfffield.
Suffolk. W. A. Dutt.
Surrey. J. C. Cox.
Sussex. F. G. Brabant. Third Edition.
WiLTiHiRE. F. R. Heath.
Yorkshire, The East Riding. J, E.
Morris.
Yorkshire, The North Riding. J. E.
Morris.
Yorkshire, The West Riding. J. E.
Morris. Cloth, jr. td. net; leather, ^s. td.
tui.

Brittany. S. Baring-Gould.
Normandy. C. Scudamorc.
Rome C. G. Ellaby.
Sicily. * F. H. Jackson.

The Little Library.
With Introductions, Notes, and Photogravure Frontispieces,
Small Pott Svo. Each Volume, cloth, '1 j. 6d. net.

Anon. A LITTLE BOOK. OF ENGLISH
LYRICS. Second Editiotu
Austen (Jane). PRIDE AND PREJU
DICE. T-wo Volume.-:.
NORTHANGER ABBEY.

Bacon (Francis).
LORD BACON.

THE ESSAYS OF

Barham (R.
LEGENDS.

H.). THE INGOLDSBY
Tvuo Volumes.

Barnet (Annie). A LITTLE BOOK OF
ENGLISH PROSE.
Beckford (William). THE HISTORY
OF THE CALIPH VATHEK.
Blake (William). SELECTIONS FROM
THE WORKS OF WILLIAM BLAKE.
Borrow (George). LAVENGRO. T-wo
Volumes,
THE RO.MANY RYE.
Browning (Robert). SELECTIONS
FROM THE EAKLY POEMS OF
ROBERT BROWNING.
Canning (George). SELECTIONS FROM
THE ANTI- JACOBIN : with George
Canning's additional Poems.
Cowley (Abraham). THE ESSAYS OF
ABRAHAM COWLEY.
Crabbe (George). SELECTIONS FROM
THE POEMS OF GEORGE CRABBE.

Craik (Mrs.). JOHN HALIFAX,
GENTLEMAN. Two Volumes.
Crashaw (Richard). THE ENGLISH
POEMS OF RICHARD CRASHAW.
Dante Allghierl. THE INFERNO OF
DANTE. Translated by H. F. Carv.
THE PURGATORIO 0-F DANTE. Trans-
lated by H. F. Carv.
THE PARADISO OF DANTE. Trans.
lated by H. F. Carv.
Darley (George). SELECTIONS FROM
THE POEMS OF GEORGE DARLEY.
Deane (A. C). A LITTLE BOOK OF
LIGHT VERSE.
Dickens(Charles). CHRISTMAS BOOKS,
T-wo Volumes.

MARRIAGE. Two

Ferriep (Susan),
Volumes.
THE INHERITANCE. Two Volumes.
Gaskell (Mrs.). CRANFORD. Second Ed.
Hawthorne (Nathaniel). THE SCARLET
LETTER.
Henderson (T. F.). A LITTLE BOOK
OF SCOTTISH VERSE.
Keats (John). POEMS.
Kinglake {A. W.). EOTHEN. Seemd
Editiotu

General Literature
The Littie Library — continued,.

19

Lamb (Charles). ELIA, AND THE LAST
ESSAYS OF ELIA.
Locker (F.). LONDON LYRICS.
Longfellow (H. W.). SELECTIONS
FROM THE POEMS OF H. W. LONG
FELLOW.
Marvell (Andrew). THE POEMS OF
ANDREW iLARVELL.
Kllton (John). THE MINOR POEMS OF
JOHN MILTON.
Moir CD. H.). MANSIE WAUCH.
Hichols fJ. B. B.). A LITTLE BOOK
OF ENGLISH SONNETS.
Rochefoucauld (La). THE MAXIMS OF
LA ROCHEFOUCAULD.

Tennyson (Alfred. Lord). THE EARLY
POEMS OF ALFRED, LORD TENNY
SON.
IN MEMORIAM.
THE PRINCESS.
MAUD.
Thackeray (W. M.). VANITY FAIR.
Three Votitmes.
PKNDEXNia Three Volumes.
ESMOND. CHRISTMAS BOOKS.

Vaughan (Henry). THE POEMS
HENRY VAUGHAN.

OF

THE COMPLEAT

Smith ^Horace and James),
ADDRESSES.

Sterne CLanrence),
JOURNEY.

REJECTED
A SENTIMENTAL

Walton (Izaak).
ANGLER.
Waterhouse (Elizabeth). A LITTLE
HOOK OF LIFE AND DEATH.
Thirteenth Edition.
Wordsworth (W.). SELECTIONS FROM
THE POEMS OF WILLIAM WORDS.
WORTH.
Wordsworth (W.) and Coleridge (S. T.).
LYRICAL BALLADS. Second Edition.

The Little Quarto Shakespeare.
Edited by W. J. CRAIG. With Introductions and Notes.
Pott i6mo. In 40 Volumes. Leather, price is. net each volume.
Mahogany Revolvit)^ Book Case. 10s. net.
Miniature Library.

EupHRANOR : A Dialogue on Youth. Edward
FiuGeiaid. Demy -^amo. Leather, as. nei.
The Life of Edward, Lord Herbert of
Cherbury. Written by himselL Detny
•^amo. Leather, as. net.

PoLONius; or Wise Saws and Modern In
stances, Edward FitzGerald. Detny ^amo.
Leather, as. tut.
The RubXiyAt of Omar KhayyXm. Edward
FitzGerald. Fourth Edition, Leather, is,
net.

Care of the Body, The. F. Cavanagh.
Secotzd Edicion. ys. td. net.

The New Library of Medicine.
Edited by C. W. SALEEBY. Demy %vo.
Drugs AND THE Drug Habit. H. Saiasbury,
A. T. Sch-o-

Children' o? the Nation, The. The Right
Hon. Sir John Gorst. Second Edition.
¦js. td, r^i.
Control o? a Scourge, The : or. How
Cancar is Curable. Chas. P. Childe. -js. td.
net.
Diseases of Occupation. Eir Thomas Oliver.
zos. td. r^t. Second Edition.
Drink Problem, The, in its Medico-Socio
logical Asoecis. Edited by T. N. Kelynack.
7*. td. net.

Functional Nerve Diseases.
field. 7J. td. net.
Hygiene o? Mind, The- T. S. Clouston.
Fifth Edition, -js. td. mt.
Infant Mortality. Sir George Newman-
71. td. net.
Prevention of Tuberculosis CConsump-
tion), The. Arthur Newsholme. los.td.
net. Second Edition.
Air and Health. Ronald C. Mac&e. ^s. td,
net. Second Edition,

20

Methuen and Comp.^.nv Limited

The New Library of Music.
Edited by ERNEST NEWi^AN. Illustrated. Demy Zvo. <]s. 6d. net.
Brahms. J. A- FuUer-Maitland. Second I Handeu R. A. Streatfeild. Second Edition
Edition. I Hugo Wolf. Ernest Newman.

Oxford Biographies.
Illustrated. Fcap. Zvo. Each volume, cloth, 2s. 6d. net ; leather, t,s. 6d. net.

Dante Alichieri. Paget Toynbce. Third
Edition.
Girolamo Savonakola. E. L, S. Horsburgh.
Fourth Editiotu
John Howard. E. C. S. Gibson.
Alfred Tennyson. A. C. Benson. Second
Edition.
Sir Walter Raleigh. I. A, Taylor.
Erasmus. E. F, H. Capey.

The Young Pretender. C S. Terry.
Robert Burns. T. F. Henderson.
Chatham. A. S, M'DowalL
Francis or Assisi. Anna M. Stoddart.
Canning, W. Alison Phillips.
Beaconseield, Walter Sichel,
Johann Wolfgang Goethe. H. G. Atkins.
Francois Fenelon. Viscount St. Cyrcv

Romantic History.
Edited by MARTIN HUME, Illustrated. DemyZve.
A series of attractive volumes in which the periods and personalities selected are
such as afford romantic human interest, in addition to their historical
importance.

The First Governess of the Nether
lands, Margaret of Austria. Eleanor
E. Tremayne. lo*. td. tui.
Two English Queens and Philif. Martin

Hume. xss. f^ei.
The Nine Days' Queen. Richard Davey.
With a Preface by Martin Hume. Second
Edition, los. td. net.

, The States of Italy.
Edited by E. ARMSTRONG and R. LANGTON DOUGLAS.
Illustrated. Dimy Zva.
A History of Milan under the Sfoka. | A History of Veroka. A. M. Alien, las. td.
Cecilia ^L Ady. xor. td, tut. \ nei.
A HiSTOBY OF Pbxccia. W, Heywood. IM. td. tut.

Fiction

21

The Westminster Commentaries.
General Editor, WALTER LOCK.

The Acts of the Apostles. Edited by R.
B. Raclcham. Demy Svo, Fifth Edition,
los. td.
The First Epistle of Paot, the Apostle
TO THE Corinthians. Edited by H. L.
Goudge. Third Editiotu Demy Svo. ts.
The Book of Exodos. Edited by A. H.
M'Neile. W^th a ilap and 3 Plans. Demy
Svo. las. td.
The Book of Ezekiel. Edited by H. A.
Redpatb. Demy Zvo, xoj. ttC

The Book of Genesis. Edited with Intro
duction and Notes by S. R. Driver.
Eighth Editioru Detny Svo. 10s. td.
The Book of the Prophet Isaiah. Edited
by G. W. Wade. Demy Svo. 10s. td.
Additions and Corrections inthe Seventh
Edition of The Book of Genesis. S. R-
Driver. Demy Zvo. is.
The Book OF Job. Edited by E. C S. Gibson.
Second Editiotu Demy Zvo. ts.
The Epistle of St. James. Edited with In-
troduction and Notes by R- J. Knowling.
Second Editiotu Demy Svo. ts.

Methuen's Shilling Library.
Fcap, Svo.

De Profvndis. Oscar Wilde.
The Lore of the Honey-Bee. Tickner
Edwardes,
Letters from a Self-Made Merchant
TO his Son. George Horace Lorimcr.
Selected Poems. Oscar Wilde.

The Life of Robert .Louis Stevenson.
Grahara Balfour,
The Life of John Ruskin. W. G. Colling-
wood.

The Condition of England.
Masterman.

G. F. G.

Part III. — A Selection of Works of Fiction

Albanesi (E. Maria). SUSANNAH AND
ONE OTHER. Fourth Edition. Cr.
Svo. ts.
LOVE AND LOUIS.\. Second Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE BROWN EYES OF ^L\RY. Third
Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts,
I KNOW A MAIDEN. TMrd Editiotu
Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE l.N"VINCIBLE AMELIA: or, The
Polite Ad'/entcress. Third Editiotu
Cr, Zvo. 3J. 6d.
THE GLAD HEART. Fifth Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts,
Bagot (Richard). A ROMAN MYSTERY.
Third Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE PASSPORT. Fourth Edition, Cr.
Zvo. ts.
ANTHONY CUTHBERT. Foiirth Edition,
Cr. Zvo. ts.
LOVE'S PROXY. Cr. Svo. ts.
DONN.A DIANA. SecorJ. Edition, Cr,
Zvo, ts,
CASIING OF NETS. Tmelfth Edition,
Cr. Zvo, ts.
THE HOUS EOF SERRA VALLE. Tksrd
Editiotu Cr. Svo. ts.

Bailey (H.C). STORM AND TREASURE.
Third Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE LONELY QUEEN. Third Edition,
Cr, Svo. ts.
Baring-Gould (S.). IN THE ROAR
OF THE SE.-i. Eighth Edition, Cr. Svo.
ts.
MARGERY OF QUETHER. Second
Editioti. Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE QUEEN OF LOVE. Fifth Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts.
JACQUETTA. Third Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
KITTY ALONE. Fif th Edition. Cr.Svo. ts.
NOEMI. Illustrated. FouHh Edition. Cr,
Svo. ts.
THE BROOM - SQUIRE. Illustrated.
Fifth Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
DARTMOOR. IDYLLS. Cr. Svo. ts.
GUAVAS THE TINNER. Illustrated.
Second Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
ELADYS OF THE STEWPONEY. Illus.
trated. Second Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
PABO THE PRIEST. Cr. Zvo. ts.
WINEFRED. IUustrated. Second Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts.
ROYAL GEORGIE. lUosttated. Cr.Xvo.U,

22

Methuen and Company Limited

CHRIS OF ALL SORTS. Cr. Svo. ts.
IN DEWISLAND. Second Edition. Cr.
Zvo. ts.
THEFROBISHERS. Cr.Svo. ts.
MRS. CURGENVEN OF CURGENVEN.
P'ifth Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
Barr (Robert). IN THE MIDST OF
ALARMS. Third Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
THE COUNTESS TEKLA. Fifth
Editioti. Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE MUTABLE MANY. Third Edition.
Cr, Svo, ts.
EegbiB (Harold). THE CURIOUS AND
DIVERTING ADVENTURES OF SIR
JOHN SPARROW, Bart. ; or, The
Progress of an Open Mind. Secottd
Editiotu Cr. Zvo. ts.
BellOC (H.). EMMANUEL BURDEN,
MERCHANT. Illustrated. Second Edition.
Cr. Svo. ts.
A CHANGE IN THE CABINET. Third
Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
Bennett (Arnold). CLAY HANGER.
Tetith Edition. Cr. Svo. ts,
THE CARD. Sixth Edition. Cr.Svo. ts.
HILDA LESSWAYS, - Seventh Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts.
Eonson (E. F.). DODO : A Detail of the
Day. Sixteenth Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
Birmingham (George A.). SPANISH
GOLD. Sixth Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE SEARCH PARTY. Fifth Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts.
LALAGE'S LOVERS. Third Editiotu Cr,
Svo. ts.
•THE ADVENTURES OF DR. WHITTY.
Cr. Zvo. ts.
Bowen (Marjorie). I WILL MAIN
TAIN. Seventh Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
DEFENDER OF THE FAITH. Fourth
Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
Castle (Agnes and Egerton). FLOWER
O" THE ORANGE, and Other Tales.
¦ Third Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
CliffoPd (Mrs. W. K). THE GETTING
WELL OK DOROTHY. lUustrated.
Second Edition. Cr. Svo. 3r. td.
Conrad (Joseph). THE SECRETAGENT :
A Simple Tale. Fourth Ed. Cr. Svo. ts.
A SET OF SIX. Fourth Edition. Cr.Svo. ts.
UNDER WESTERN EYES. Second Ed.
Cr. Zvo. ts,
Corelli (Marie). A ROMANCE OF TWO
WORLDS. Thirty-first Ed. Cr. Zvo. ts.
VENDETTA. Twenty-ninth Edition. Cr.
Zvo. ts.
THELMA : A Norwegian Princess.
Forty-secottd Edition. Cr, Svo. ts.
ARDATH : The Story of a Dead Self.
Twentieth Editiotu. Cr, Svo. 6j.

THE SOUL OF LILITH.' Seventeenth
Edition. Cr. Svo, ts.
WORMWOOD : A Drama of Paris.
Eighteenth Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
BARABBAS : A Dream of the World's
Tragedy. Forty-fifth Edition. Cr. Svo.
ts.
THE SORROWS OF SATAN. Fifty-seventh
Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE MASTER CHRISTIAN. Thirteenth
Edition. T79M Thousand, Cr. Svo. ts.
TEMPORAL POWER : A Study m
Supremacy. Second Edition. 150M
Thousand. Cr. Svo. ts.
GOD'S GOOD MAN : A Simple Love
Story. Fifteenth Edition. is^th Thou-
s.znd. Cr. Zvo. ts.
HOLY ORDERS: the Tragedy of a
Quiet Life. Secottd Editiotu laoth
Thousattd. Crowti Zvo. ts.
THE MIGHTY ATO.M. Twenty-ninth
Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
BOY : a Sketch. Twelfth Edition. Cr. Svo.
ts.
CAMEOS. Fourteenth Edition. Cr.Svo. ts.
THE LIFE EVERLASTING. Fifth Ed,
Cr. Svo, ts,
Crockett (S. R.). LOCHINVAR. Illus
trated. Third Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
THE STANDARD BEARER. Second
Edition. ^ Cr. Svo. ts,
Crokep (B, M.). THE OLD CANTON
MENT. Secottd Edition. Cr.Svo. ts.
JOH.ANNA. Secoitd Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE HAPPY VALLEY. Fourth Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts.
A NINE DAYS' WONDER. Fourth
Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
PEGGY OF THE BARTONS. Seventh
Edition, Cr. Zvo. ts.
ANGEL. Fif th Edition. Cr.Svo. ts.
KATHERINE THE ARROGANT. Sixth
Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
BABES IN THE WOOD. Fourth Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts,
Doyle (A. Conan). ROUND THE RED
LAMP. Twelfth Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
Duncan (Sara Jeannette) (Mrs. Everard
Cotes). A VOYAGE Of CONSOLATION.
Illustrated. Third Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
COUSIN CINDERELLA. Second Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts. ,
THE BURNT OFFERING. Second
Editiotu Cr. Svo. 6s.
Fenn (G. Manville). SYD BELTON:
The Boy who would not go to Sea.
Illustrated. Second Ed. Cr. Zvo. y. td.
Findlatep(J.H.). THE GREEN GRAVES
OF BALGOWRIE. Fifth Edition. Cr.
Zvo. ts.
THE LADDER TO THE STARS. Second
Editiotu Cr. Svo. ts.

Fiction

23

Jtadlatep (Mary). A NARROW WAY.
Third Edition. Cr. Svo. tt.
OVER THE HILLS. Second Editiotu Cr.
Zvo. ts.
THE ROSE OF JOY. Third Editiost,
Cr. Svo. ts.
A BLIND BIRD'S NEST. IUustrated.
Second EdiHoru Cr. Zvo, 6s.
Fry (B. and C. B.). A MOTHER'S SON.
Fijthr-- - -

i Editiotu Cr. Svo. ts.

Gibbon (Perceval). MARGARET
HARDING. Third Edition, Cr. Svo. ts.
Gisslng (George). THE CROWN OF
LIFE. Cr. Zvo. ts.
Harraden (Beatrice). IN VARYING
MOODS. Fourteenth Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
HILDA STRAFFORD and THE REMIT
TANCE iLAN. Twelfth Ed. Cr. Zvo. ts.
INTERPLAY. Fifth Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
Hlohens (Robert). THE PROPHET OF
BERKELEY SQUARE. Second Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts.
TONGUES OF CONSCIENCE. Third
Editiotu Cr. Zvo. ts.
FELIX. Eighth and Cheaper Edition. Cr.
THE WOM.AN WITH THE FAN. Eighth
Edition, Cr. Zvo. ts.
BYEWAYS. Cr. Svo. ts.
THE G.ARDEN OF ALLAH. Twenty-
first Edition. Cr, Svo, ts.
THE BLACK SPANIEL, Cr. Svo. ts,
THE CALL OF THE BLOOD, Seventh
Editiotu Cr. Svo. ts.
BARBARY SHEEP. Second Edition. Cr.
Svo. ts.
THE D\VELLER ON THE THRES
HOLD. Cr. Zvo. ts.
Hope (Anthony). THE GOD IN THE
CAR. Eleventh Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
A CHANGE OF AIR. Sixth Edition. Cr.
Zvo. ts.
A MAN OF MARK. Seventh Ed. Cr. Svo. ts.
THE CHRONICLES OF COUNT AN
TONIO. Sixth Edition. Cr.Zvo. ts.
PHROSO. Illustrated. Eighth Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts.
SIMON D.ALE. Ulustrated. Eighth Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE KING'S MIRROR. Fifth Edition.
Cr. Svo. ts.
QUISANTE. Fourth Edition. Cr. Svor ts.
THE DOLLY DIALOGUES. Cr.Svo. ts.
A SERVANT OF THE PUBLIC Illus
trated. Fourth Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
TALES OF TWO PEOPLE. Third Edi-
iion. Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE GREAT MISS DRIVER. Fourth
Editiotu Cr. Svo. ts.
MRS. MAXON PROTESTS. Third Edi.
tiotu Cr. Zvo. ts.
Hutten (Baroness von). THE HALO.
Fifth Editiotu Cr. Svo. 63.

Hyno (C. J. CutcUffa). MR. HOR-
ROCKS, PURSER. Fifth Edition. Cr,
Svo. ts,
'Inner Shrine' (Author of the). THE
WILD OLIVE. Third Edition. Cr.Svo,
ts.
Jacobs (W. W.). MANY CARGOES.
Thirty-second EiiitiofU Cr. Svo. -is. td.
SEA URCHINS. Sixteenth Edition. Cr.
Svo. 3*. td.
A MASTER OF CRAFT. IUustrated.
Ninth Edition, Cr. Svo. 3J. td.
LIGHT FREIGHTS. Illustrated. Eighth
Editioti. Cr. Zvo. js. td,
THE SKIPPER'S WOOING. Elevettth
Edition. Cr. Zvo. 3J. td.
AT SUNWICH PORT. Illustrated. Tettth
Edition. Cr. Zvo. 3J. td.
DIALSTONE LANE. Illustrated. Eighth
Edition, Cr. Zvo. 3J, td.
ODD CRAFT. Illustrated. Fourth Edition.
Cr. Svo. 3^. td.
THE LADY OF THE BARGE. IUustrated.
Nittth Edition. Cr. Svo. ^s. td.
SALTHAVEN. lUustrated. Third Editioti,
Cr. Svo. y. ^cl.
SAILORS" KNOTS. Illustrated. Fifth
Edition, Cr. Svo. y. td.
SHORT CRUISES.' TItird Edition. Cr.
Svo. 3J, td,
James (Henry). THE GOLDEN BOWL.
Third Edition, Cr, Svo, ts.
THE FINER GRAIN. Third Edition.
:- Cr. Zvo. ts. .
Le Queux (WUliam). THE HUNCHBACK
OF WESTMINSTER Third Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts.  '
THE CLOSED BOOK. Third Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts. .- ¦ -
THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW.
Illustrated. Third Edition. Cr. Svo. ts-.
BEHIND THE THRONE. Third Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts. .
London (Jack). ' WHITE FANG. Eighth
Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts. 1
Lucas (E. v.). LISTENER'S LURE ; An
Oblique Narration,, Eighth Edition.
Fcap. Zvo. 5J.
OVER BEMERTON'S: Ah E.asy.goinc
Chronicle. Ninth Edition. Fcap Svo. 5s.
MR. INGLESIDE. Eighth Edition. Cr.
Zvo. ts.
Lyall (Edna). DERRICK VAUGHAN,
NOVELIS'r. 44<A Thousand. Cr. Svo.
3s. td. ,
Macnaughtan (S.). THE FORTUNE OF
CHRISTINA M'N.AB. Fifth Edition.
¦ Cr. Zvo. ts. ¦'
PETER AND JANE. Fottrth Editin,
Cr. Svo, ts.

24

Methuen and Company Limited

Malet (Luoas). COLONEL ENDERBY'S
WIFE. Fif th Edition. Cr.Svo. ts.'
A COUNSEL OF PERFECTION. Second
Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE WAGES OF SIN. Sixteenth Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE CARISSIM.\. Fifth Ed. Cr. Svo. ts.
THE GATELESS BARRIER. Fi/ih Edi
tiotu Cr. Svo. ts.
THE HISTORY OF SIR RICHARD
CALMADY. Ninth Edition. Cr. Svo.
as. net.
Mann (Mrs. M. E.). THE PARISH
NURSE. Fourth Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
A SHEAF OF CORN. Second EdUion,
Cr. Svo. ts.
THE HEART-SMITER. Second Edition.
AVENGING CHILDREN. Second Edition,
Cr. Zvo. ts.
ASTRAY IN ARCADY. Second Edition,
Cr. Svo. ts.
THERE WAS A WIDOW. Second Edition.
Cr. Zvo, ts.
Marsh (Richard). THE COWARD BE.
HIND THE CURTAIN. Cr.Svo. ts.
THE SURPRISING HUSBAND. Second
Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
LIVE MEN'S SHOES. Second Edition,
Cr. Svo, ts.
Marshall (Archibald). MANY JUNES.
Secottd Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
THE SQUIRE'S DAUGHTER. Third
Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
THE ELDEST SON. Third Editioru Cr.
Zvo, ts.
Mason (A. E. W.). CLEMENTINA.
Illustrated. SevetUk Editiotu Cr, Svo.
as. tut.
MaxwalirW. B.). VIVIEN. Tenth Edi-
tiotu Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE RAGGED MESSENGER. Third
Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
FABULOUS FANCIES. Cr. Svo. ts.
THE GUARDED FLAME. Seventh Edi
tion. Cr. Zvo. ts.
ODD LENGTHS. Second Ed. Cr.Zvo. ts.
HILL RISE. Fourth Editioti. Cr.Zvo. ts.
THE COUNTESS OF MAYBURY: Be
tween You and I. Fourth Editiotu Cr.
(v,>. ts.
THE REST CURE. Fourth Edition. Cr.
Svo, ts,
Meade (L. T.). DRIFT, Second Edition,
Cr. Zvo. ts.
RESURGAM. Secottd Editiotu Cr.Svo. ts.
VICTORY. Cr. Svo. ts.
A GIRL OF THE PEOPLE. Illustrated,
Fourth Editiotu Cr. Svo. 3J. td,
HEPSY GIPSY. Illustrated. Cr. Svo.
as. td.
THE HONOURABLE MISS: A Story
of AN Old-fashioned Town. Illustrated.
Second Editiotu Cr. Svo. y. td.

Mitford (Bertram). THE SIGN OF THE
SPIDER, Illustrated. Seventh Edition.
Cr. Svo. 3J, td,
Molesworth(Mrs.), THE RED GRANGE.
Illustrated. Second Edition. Cr. Svo.
3J. td.
Montague (C. E.). A HIND LET
LOOSE. TUrd Editiotu Cr.Svo. ts.
Morrison (Arthur). TALES OF MEAN
STREETS. Seventh Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
A CHILD OF THE JAGO. Sixth Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE HOLE IN THE WALL. Fourth Edi
tion. Cr. Zvo. ts.
DIVERS VANITIES. Cr. Svo. ts.
Nesbit (E.), (Mrs. H. Bland). THE RED
HOUSE. IUustrated. Fifth Edition.
Cr. Svo. ts.
DORMANT. Second Editiotu Cr. Svo. ts.
Olllvant (Alfred). OWD BOB, THE
GREY DOG OF KENMUIR. With a
Frontispiece. Eleventh Ed. Cr. Svo. ts.
THE TAMING OF JOHN BLUNT.
Second Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
Onions (Oliver). GOOD BOY SELDO.M :
A Romance of Advertisement. Second
Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
Oppenhelm (E. Phillips). MASTER OF
MEN. Fifth Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE MISSING DELORA. Illustrated.
Fourth Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
Orczy (Baroness). FIRE IN STUBBLE.
Thirti Editiotu Cr. Svo, ts.
Oxenham (John). A WEAVER OF
WEbS- Illustrated. Fifth Ed. Cr.Svo. ts.
THE G.^TE OF THE DESERT. Eighth
Edition. Cr. Zvo. as. tut.
PROFIT AND LOSS. Fourth Edition.
Cr. Svo. ts.
THE LONG ROAD. Fourth Edition. Cr.
Zvo. ts.
THE SONG OF HYACINTH, and
Other Stories. Second Editiotu Cr.
Svo. ts,
MY LADY OF SHADOWS. Fourth Edi
tion. Cr. Zvo. ts.
LAURISTONS. Fourth Edition. Cr. Svo.
ts.
THE COIL OF CARNE. SUth Edition.
Cr. Svo. ts.
Pain (Barry). THE EXILES OF FALOO,
Second Edition. Crown Svo. ts.
Parker (Gilbert). PIERRE AND HIS
PEOPLE. Seventh Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
MRS. FALCHION. Fifth Edition. Cr.
Zvo. ts.
THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE.
Fourth Edition. Cr. Zvo ts.
THE TRAIL OF THE SWORD. Illus
trated. Tenth Edition. Cr. Svo. tt.

WHEN VALMONDCAME TO PONTIAC :
The Story of 3. Lost Napolton. Sevetith
Editiotu Cr. Svo. ts.
AN ADVENTLTIER OF THE NORTH.
The Last Adventures of 'Pretty Pierre.'
Fifth Editiotu Cr. Svo. ts.
THE SEATS OF THE MIGHTY. Illus
trated. Sez'enieentA Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
THE B.ATTLE OF THE STRONG: a
Romance of Two Kingdoms. Illustrated.
Seventh Ediiimu Cr. Z-vo. ts.
THE POMP OF THE LAVILETTES.
Third Editiotu Cr. Zvo. %s. td.
NORTHERN LIGHTS. Fourth Edition.
Cr. Svo. tt.

Pasture (Mrs. Henry da la). THE
TYRANT. Fourth Edition, Cr. Svo. ts.

Pemberton (Max). THE FOOTSTEPS
OF A THRONE. IUustrated. Fourth
Edition. Cr, Svo. ts.
I CROWN THEE KING. Illustrated. Cr.
Svo. ts.
LOVE THE HARVESTER: A Story or
the Shires. Illustrated. Third Edition.
Cr. Svo. 3r. td.
THE MYSTERY OF THK GREEN
HEART. Third Edition. Cr. Svo. ts,
Perrin (Alice). THE CHARM. Fifth
Editiotu Cr. Zvo. tt,
Phillpotts(Eden). LYING PROPHETS.
Third Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
CHILDREN OF THE MIST. Sixth Edi-
tion. Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE HUMAN EOY. With a Frontispiece.
Seventh Edition. Cr, Zvo. ts,
SONS OF THE MORNING. Second
Edition, Cr, Zvo, ts.
THE RIVER. Fourth Editum, Cr. Svo. ts.
THE AMERICAN PRISONER. Fourth
Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE SECRET WO ilAN. Fourth Edition.
Cr. Zvo. ts.
KNOCK AT A VENTURE. Third Edition.
Cr. Svo. ts.
THE PORTREEVE. Fourth Edition. Cr.
Svo. ts.
THE POACHER'S WIFE. Second Edition.
THE STRIKING HOURS, Second Edition.
Cr. Svo. ts.
DEMETER'S D.AUGHTER. Third
Edition, Cr. Svo. ts.
PIckthall (Marmaduke). S.AID THE
FISHERMAN. Eighth Edition. Cr. Svo.
ts.
'Q' (A. T. QuUIer Couch). THE WHITE
WOLF. Second Edition. Cr.Svo. ts.
THE M.AYOR OF TROY. Fourth Edition.
Cr. Svo. tt.

25
MERRY.GAEDEN ano othes Stoeibs;
Cr. Zvo, 6s
MAJOR VIGOUREUX. Third Edition.
Cr. Svo. 6s.
Kldge CW. Pett). ERB. Second Edition.
Cr. Svo. ts,
A SON OF THE STATE. Third Edition.
Cr. Zvo. «. td,
A BREAKER OF LAWS. Cr. tvo. -y, td.
MRS. GALER'S BUSINESS. Illustrated.
Second Editiotu Cr. S-tto, tt,
THE WICKHAMSES. Fourth Editum,
Cr. Svo. ts.
NAME OF GARLAND. Third Edition.
SPLENd"iD BROTHER. Fourth Edition,
Cr. Svo. 6s.
NINE TO SIX-THIRTY. Third Edition.
THANKS ¦TO SANDERSON, Second
Etlition. Cr. Svo. ts,
Boblns (Elizabeth). THE CONVERT;
Third Editiotu Cr. Svo. tt.
Russell (W. Clark). MY DANISH
SWEETHEART, niustrated. Fifth
Edition. Cr. Svo. tt.
HIS ISLAND PRINCESS. niustrated.
Second Editiotu Cr. Svo. ts.
ABANDONED. Second Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s.
MASTER ROCKAFELLAR'S VOYAGE.
Illustrated. Fourth Edition. Cr. Svo. -y. td,
Sidgwick (Mrs. Alti-ed). THE KINS
MAN. Illustrated. TItird Editiotu Cr.
Zvo. dr.
THE SEVERINS. Sixth Edition. Cr.
Svo. 6s.
THE LANTERN-BEARERS. Third Ed,
Cr. Svo. 6s.
ANTHEA'S GUEST. Fifth Edition. Cr.
Svo. 6j.
SomervIUe (E. (E.) and Ross (Martin).
DAN RUSSEL THE FOX. Illustrated.
Fourth Edition. Cr. Svo. 6t.
Thurston (E. Temple). MIRAGE. Fourth
Edition. Cr. Svo. 6t.
Watson (H. E. Marriott). TWISTED
EGLANTINE. IUusuated. Third Edi
tion. Cr. Svo. 6s.
THE HIGH TOBY. Third Edition. Cr.
Zvo. ts.
THE PRIVATEERS. Illustrated. Second
Edition. Cr. Z-jo. tt.
ALISE OF ASTRA. Third Edition. Cr.
Svo. ts.
Webling (Peggy). THE STORY OF
VIRGINIA PERFECT. Third Edition.
Cr, Zvo. ts.
THE SPIRIT OF MIRTH. Fifth Editioru
Cr. Svo. ts.

26

Methuen and Company Limited

Weyman (Stanley). UNDER THE RED
ROBE. Illustrated. Tweniy-third Edition.
Cr. Zvo. tt.
Whitby (Beatrice). ROSAMUND. Second
Editiotu Cr. Svo. tt,
Williamson (C N. and A. M.). THE
LIGHTNING CONDUCTOR: The
Strange Adventures of a Motor Car. Illus
trated. Seventeenth Editiotu Cr, Zvo,
ts. Also Cr. Zvo. IS. nei.
THE PRINCESS PASSES : A Romance of
a Motor. Illustrated. Ninth Edition.
Cr. Svo. ts.
MY FRIEND THE CHAUFFEUR. Illus
trated. Twelfth Edition. Cr. Svo. as.
net.
LADY BETTY ACROSS THE WATER.
Eleventh Editiotu Cr. Svo. ts.

THE CAR OF JJESTINY AND ITS
ERRAND IN SPAIN. Illustrated. Fifth
Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE BOTOR CHAPERON.' Illustrated.
Sixth Edition. Cr. Zvo. 6s.
SCARLET RUNNER. Illustrated. Third \
Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
SET IN SILVER. Illustrated. Fourth
Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
LORD LOVELAND DISCOVERS
AMERICA. Second Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE GOLDEN SILENCK Sixth Edition.
Cr. Svo. ts.
THE GUESTS OF HERCULES. Cr. Zto.
ts,
Wyllarde (DoID. THE PATHWAY OF
THE PIONEER (Nous Autres). Sixth
Edition. Cr. Zvo. ts.
THE UNOFFICIAL- HONEYMOON,
Sixth Editiotu Cr. Svo, 6s.

Methuen's Two-Shilling Novels.
Cr, Svo. 2s. net.

The Gate of the Desert. John Oxenham,
The Severins. Mrs. Alfred Sidgwick.
Clementina. A. £. W. Alason.

The Princess Virginia. C. N. and A. M.
Williamsoil.
Colonel ENDERBY'S Wife. Lucas Malce

Books for Boys and Girls.
Illustrated. Crovin Svo. 31. 6d.

Cross and Dagger. The Crusade of the
Children, 1212. W. Scott Durrant.

The Getting V/ell of Dorothy.
W. K. Clifford.

Mrs.

Only a Goard-Room Dog.
Cuthell.

Edith E.

Master Rockafkllar's Voyage. W. CHarle
RusselL

Syd Belton : The Boy who would nol
go to Sea. G. Manville Fenn.
Thb Red Grange. Mrs. Molesworth.
A Girl of the People. L. T, Meade.
Hepsy Gipsy. L. T. Meade, ts. td.
The Honourable Miss. L. T. Meade.
These was oncs a Peincs. Mrs. M, K,
Mann.

Methuen's Shilling Novels.

Jane, Marie CorellL
Undsr the Red Robe. Stanley J. Weyman.
Lady Betty Across the Water, C. N,
& A, M, Wniiaiasoo.

MiKACB. E. Temple Thurston.
ViRGiKiA Perfect. Pezgy Webling.
Spahisk Gold. G. A. Birmingham.
Barbary Sheet. Robert Hlcbens.

27

The Novels of Alexandre Dumas.
Medium Zvo, Price 6d, Double Volutnes, is.
Leons-Leona.

Act4.The Adventuhes of Captain Pamphilk.
Amaurt.The Bird of Pate.
The Black Tolif.
The Castle of Eppstein.
Catherine Bluu.
C^CILK.
The ChAtelet.
The Chevallee D'Harmentai- (Double
volume.)
Chicot the Jester.
Chicot Redivivus,
The Comt3 db Montgommzxt.
Conscience.The Convict's Son.
The Coesican Brothers ; and Otho thb
Archer.
Crop-Eased Jacqdot.
Dom Gorenflot.
The Dec d'-Anjoc
The Fatal Combat.
The Fencing Mastee.
Fernandb.Gabriel Las^bekt.
Georges.
The Great Massacrb.
Henri db Navaere.
H£Lb<B DE ChAVERNT.
The Horoscope.

Louise db la ValliJrb. (Double Tolumo.)
The Mah i.n thk Iron Mask. (Ooubl«
volume.)
MaItrb Adam.
The Mouth of Hell.
Nanon. (Double volume.)
Olympia.
Pauline ; Pascal Bbuno ; and Bohtekob.
PfeEB LA RUINB.
The Porte Saiht-Antoinb.
Thb Prince of Thieves.
The Reminiscences of Antont.
St, Quentin.
Robin Hood.
Samuel Gelb.
The Snowball and thb Sultanbtt*.
Sylvandire.
Thb Taking of Calais.
Tales of thb Sufbrnatukai.
Tales op Strangb AovzNTUiub
Tales of Terror.
The Three Musketeers. (Double volume.}
TOOKNEY OF thb ROE St. AnTOINK i
The Tragedy of Nantes.
Twenty Years After. (Doable Tolume.}
The Wild-Dock Shootsii.
The Wolf-Lsadeb.

Methuen's Sixpenny Books.

Medium Zva,

Albanesi (E. Maria). LOVE AND
LOUISA.
I KNOW A MAIDEN.
THE BLUNDER OF AN INNOCENT.
PETER A PARASITE.
Anstey (P.). A BAYARD OF BENGAL.
Austen (J.)- PRIDE AND PREJUDICE.
Bagot (Richard). A ROMAN MYSTERY.
CASTING OF NETS.
DONNA DLANA.

Balfour (Andrew).
SWORD.

BY STROKE OF

Baring-Gould (S.). FURZE BLOOM. ,
CHEAP JACK ZITA.
KITTY ALONE.
URITH. THE BROOM SQUIRE. .
IN THE ROAR OF THE SEA.
NOEMI. A BOOK OF FAIRY TALES, niustrated.
LITTLE TU'PENNY.
WINEFRED. THE FROBISHERS.
THE QUEEN OF XX)VE.
ARMINELL. BLADYS OF THE STEWPONKT.
CHRIS OF ALL SORTS.

28

Methuen and Company Limited

Barr iRobert). JENNIE BAXTER.
IN THE MIDST OF ALARMS.
THE COUNTESS TEKLA.
THE MUTABLE MANY.
Benson (E. F.). DODO.
THE VINTAGE.
Eronte (Charlotte). SHIRLEY.
Brownell (C. L.). THE HEART OF
JAP.\N.
Burton (J. BloundeUe). ACROSS THE
S-ALT SEAS.
CafTj-n (Mrs.). ANNE MAULEVERER.
Capes (Bernard). THE LAKE OF
WINE.
THE GREAT SKENE MYSTERY.
CJifTord (Mrs. W. K.). A FLASH OF
SU-M.MER
MRS. KEITH'S CRIME.
Corbett (Julian). A BUSINESS IN
GREAT WATERS.
Croker (Mrs. B. M.). ANGEL.
A STATE SECRET.
PEGGY OF THE BARTONS.
JOHANNA. Dante (Allghleri),- THE DIVINE
COMEDY (Cary).
Doyle (A, Conan). ROUND THE RED
LAMP.
Duncan (Sara Jeannette). THOSE
DELIGHTFUL AMERICANS.
Ellot (George). THE MILL ON THE
FLOSS.
FIndlater (Jane H.). THE GREEN
GR^VVES OF BALGOWRIE.
Gallon (Tom). RICKERBY'S FOLLY.
¦ GaskeU (Mrs.). CRANFORD.
M.ARY BARTON.
NORTH AND SOUTH.
Gerard (Dorothea). HOLY MATRI
MONY.
THE CONQUEST OF LONDON.
MADE OF MONEY.
Gisslng (G.). THE TO^VN TRAVELLER.
THE CROWN OF LIFK .

Glanville (Ernest). THE INC A'S,
TREASURE. -¦
THE KLOOF BRIDE.
Gleig (Charles). BUNTER'S CRUISE :
Crimm (The Brothers). GRIMM'S j
FAIRY TALES. ''
Hope (Anthony). A MAN OF MARK. ':
A CHANGE OF AIR.
THE CHRONICLES OF COUNT
ANTONIO.
PHROSO.
THE DOLLY DIALOGUES.
Hornung (E. W.), DEAD MEN TELL
NO TALES.
Kyne (C. J. C). PRINCE RUPERT THE
BUCCANEER.
Ingraham (J. H.). TPIE THRONE OF
DAVID.
Le Queux (W.). THE HUNCHBACK
OF WESTMINSTER.
THE CROOKED WAY.
•THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW.
Levett- Yeats (S. K.). THE TRAITORS
WAY,
ORRAIN.
Linton (E. Lynn). THE TRUE HIS
TORY OF JOSHUA DAVIDSON.
Lyall (Edna). DERRICK VAUGHAN.
Malet (Lucas). THE CARISSIMA.
A COUNSEL OF PERFECTION.
Mann (Mrs. M. E.). MRS. PETER
HOWARD.
A LOST ESTATE.
THE CEDAR STAR.
ONE ANOTHER'S BURDENS.
THE PATTEN EXPERIMENT.
A WINTERS TALE.
Marchmont (A. W.). MISER HOAD.
LEY'S SECRET.
A MOMENT'S ERROR.
Marryat (Captain). PETER SIMPLE,
JACOB FAITHFUL.
March (Richard). A METAMORPHOSIS,
THE TWICKENHAM PEER.AGE.
THE GODDESS.
THE JOSS.

Mason (A. E. W.). CLEilENTINA.
Mathers (Helen). HONEY.
GRIFF OF GRIFFITHSCOURT.
SAM'S SWEETHEART.
THE FERRYMAN,
Meade [Mrs. L. T,). DRIFT.
Killer (Esther). LIVING LIES.
Mitford (Bertram). THE SIGN OF THE
SPIDER.
Montresor (F. F.). THE ALIEN.
Morrison (Arthur). THE HOLE IN
THE WALL.
Nesbit (E.). THE RED HOUSE.
Norris (W. E.). HIS GRACE,
GILES INGILBY.
THE CPJ;DIT OF THE COUNTY.
LORD LEONARD THE LUCKLESS.
MATTHEW AUSTEN.
CLARISSA FURIOSA.
Ollphant (Mrs.). THE LADY'S WALK.
SIR ROBERT'S FORTUNfi,
THE PRODIGALS.
THE TWO MARYS.
Oppenhelm (E. P.). MASTER OF MEN.
Parker (Gilbert). THE POMP OF THE
LAVILETTES.
WHEN VALMOND CAME TO PONTIAC
THE TPJUL OF THE SWORD.
Pemberton (Max). THE FOOTSTEPS
OF A THRONE.
I CROWN THEE KING.
Phlllpotts (Eden). THE HUMAN BOY.
CHILDREN OF THE MIST.
THE PO.^CHER'S WIFE.
THE RIVEK.

'Q' (A. T. Quiller Couch).
WHITE WOLF.

29.
THE

Ridge (W. Pett). A SON OF THE STATE.
LOST PROPERTY.
GEORGE and THE GENERAL.
A BREAKER OF LiVWS.
ERB.RusseU (W. Clark). ABANDONEIX
A MARRIAGE AT SEA.
MY DANISH S^VEETHEART.
HIS ISLAND PRINCESS.
Sergeant (Adeline). THE MASTER OF
BEECHWOOD.
BALBARA'S MONET.
THE YELLOW DIAMOND.
THE LOVE THAT OVERCAME.
Sidgwick (Mrs. Alfred). THE KINS-
MAN.
Surtees (R. S.). HANDLEY CROSS.
MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR.
ASK MAMMA.
Walford (Mrs. L. B.). MR. SMITH.
COUSINS.
THE BABY'S GRANDMOTHER.
TROUBLESOME DAUGHTERS.
Wallace (General Lew). BEN-HUK.
THE FAIR GOD.
Watson (H. B. Marriott). THE ADVEN
TURERS.
CAPTAIN FORTUNE.
Weekes (A..B.). PRISONERS OF WAR.
Wells (H. 0.). THE SEA LADY. .
Whitby (Beatrice), f HE RESULT OF
AN ACCIDENT.
White (Percy). A PASSIONATE PIL-
GRI.M.
WUllamson (Mrs, C. N.). PAPA.

30

Methuen and Company Limited

Books for Travellers.
Crown Zvo, 6s, each.
Each volume contains a number of Illustrations in Colour.

A' Wanderer in Paris. E, V, Lucas.
A Wanderer in Holland. E. V. Lucas.
A Wanderer in London. E. V. Lucas.
The Norfolk Broads. W. A. Dutt.
Thh New Forest. Horace G. HutchinsoD.
Naples. Arthur H. Norway.
Thb Cities of- .Umbrla. Ed^vard Hutton.
Thb Cities op Spain. Edward Hutton.
Florence and the Cities of Northern
Tuscany, with Genoa. Edward Hutton.
Rome. Edward Hutton.
Venicb and Venetia. Edward Hutton.

The Bretons at Home. F. M. Gostling.
The Land op Pardons {Brittany), Anatolo
Le Braz.
A Book of the Rhine. S. Baring-Gould.
Thb Naples Riviera. H. M. Vaughan,
Days in Cornwall. C. Lewis Hind.
Through East Anglia in a Motor Caw.
J. E. Vincent.
The Skirts of thk Great City. Mrs. A.
G. Bell.
Round about Wiltshire. A G. Bradley.
ScHTLAXD OF To-day. T. F. Henderson and
Francis Watt.
Norway and its Fjords. M. A Wyllie.

Some Books on Art.

ArtandLifk. T. Stnrge Moore, Illustrated.
Cr. Zva. Sf. net.
Aims and Ideals in Art. George Clausen.
Illustrated. Second Edition, Lar^e Posi
Svo. $s. net.
Six Lectures on Painting. George Clausen.
Illustrated. Third Edition, Earge Post
Zvo, -^s. td. net.
Francesco Guardi, 1713-1793. G. A.
Simonson. Illustrated. Imperial 4to,
£2 2J. net.
Illustrations of the Book of Job.
William Blake- Quarto, £x is. net.
John Lucas, Portrait Painter, 1828-1874.
Arthur Lucas. Illustrated. Imperial ^o,
£3 sr. net.
One Hundred Masterpieces of Painting.
With an Introduction by R. C- Witt. Illus
trated. Second Edit fifn. Dem.y%vo, xoj. 6^^
net.

One Hundred Mastkhfieces of Sculpture,
With an Introduction by G. F. HilL Illus
trated. DeTny ivo. 10s. td net.
A Romney Folio. With an Essay by A B.
Chamberlain. Imperial Folio. ^15 13J.
net.
The Saints in Art. Margaret E. Tabor.
lUustrated. Fcap. Bvo. 3J. 6d. net.
Schools of Painting. Mary Innes. Illus
trated, Cr, Svo, 5J. wt.
The Post Impressionists. C Lewis Hind.
Illustrated. Eoyal Bvo. "js. td. net.
Celtic Art in Pagan and Christian Timss.
J. R. AUen. Illustrated. Second Edition,.
Demy Zvo. "js. td. net.
"Classics of Art." See page 14.
" Thk Connoisseur's Library." See page 14.
"Little Books on Art." Seepage 17.
"The Little Galleries." See page 17.

wlTER ATURE

31

Some Books on Italy.

A History of Milan under thb Sforza.
Cecilia M. Ady. Illustrated. Demy Svo.
XOJ. td. net.
A History of Verona- A M. Allen.
Illustrated. Detny Zvo, s.is. td, net.
A History of Perugia. WiUiam Heywood.
IUustrated, Demy Svo, xxr. td. net.
Thb Laxes of Northsrn Italy. Richard
Bagot. IUustrated. Fcap, Svo. %s. net.
Wo.MAK IN ItalV. W. Boulting. Illustrated.
Demy Svo. 10s. td. net.
Old Etruriaand Modern Tuscany. Mary
L. Cameron. Illustrated. Second Edition.
Cr. Svo, ts. net,
Florence and the Cities .of Northern
Tuscany, with Genoa. Edward Hutton.
IUustrated. Second Edition, Cr. Svo. ts,
Siena and Southern Tuscany. Edward
Hutton. lUustrated. Second Edition.
Cr. Svo. ts.
In Unknown Tuscany. Edward Hutton.
Illustrated. Second Edition. Demy Svo,
JS. td, net,
Venice and Venetia. Edward Hutton.
IUustrated. Cr. Svo. ts.
Venice on Foot. H. A. Douglas. Illustrated.
Fcap, Svo. ss. net,
Vexicb and Her Treasures. H. A
Douglas. IUustrated. Fcap. Svo. 5X. net.
Florence : Her History and Art to the FaU
of the Republic. F. A. Hyett. Demy Svo.
•JS. td net.
Florence and Her Treasures. H. M.
Vaughan. lUustrated. Fcap, Svo, ^s. 7iet,
Country Walks about Florence. Edward
Hutton- Illustrated. P'cap. Svo. k,s. net.
Naples : Past and Present. A H. Norway.
IUustrated. Third Edition, Cr. Svo. ts.
The Naples Riviera. H, M. Vaughan.
Ulusirated. Second Edition, Cr. Svo, ts.

Sicily : The New Winter Resort. Douglas
Sladen. Illustrated. Second Edition, Cr,
Svo. 5X. net,
Sicily. F. H. Jackson. lUustrated- Smcdl
Pott Zvo. Cloth, IS. td, net; leather, 3J. td.
net.
Rome. Edward Hutton, IUustrated. Second
Edition. Cr. Svo. ts.
A Roman Pilgrim acb. R. E. Roberts.
Illustrated. Detny Zvo. tos. td. net.
Rome. C. G. EUaby. IUustrated. Stnall
Pott Zvo, Cloth^ 2S. td. net; leather, y. td.
net.
The Cities of Umbria. Edward Hutton.
Illustrated. Fourth Editioti. Cr. Zvo, ts.
The Lives of S. Francis of Assisi.
Brother Thomas of Celano. Cr, Svo, 5X.
net.
Lorenzo thb Magnificent. E. L. _ S.
Horsburgh. Illustrated. Secottd Edition,
Demy Svo, x$s. net,
Girolamo Savonarola. E. L. S. Horsburgh-
lUustrated. Cr. Svo. jr. rut,
St. Catherine of Siena and Her Times.
By the Autbor of** Mdlle Mori." Illustrated.
Second Edition. Ddtny ^o. ys. td. mt.
Dante and his Italy. Lonsdale Ragg.
Illustrated. Demy Svo. izs. td net.
Dante Axighieri : His Life and Works.
Paget Toynbee. lUustrated- Cr. Svo. 5^.
net.
The Medici Popes. H. M. Vaughan. Illus
trated. Detny Svo. 15J. rut.
Shelley and His Friends in Italy. Helen
R. AngeU. Illustrated. Demy Svo. jos.td,
net.
Home Life in Italy. Lina Duff Gordon,
Illustrated. Second Edition. Dcrny Zz'O,
xor. td. net.
Skies Italian : A Little Breviary for Travellers
in Italy, Kuth S. Phelps. Fcap. Svo, y,
net.

printed dy
WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LiailTED,
LONDON AND BECCLES.

YALE UNIVERSITY

a39002 0017ii2817b

YALE

Dni