CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.
CHAPTER I.
Of our stay in Scete, and that which we proposed to Abbot
Moses.
WHEN I was in the desert of Scete, where are the most excellent monastic
fathers and where all perfection flourishes, in company with the holy father
Germanus (who had since the earliest days and commencement of our spiritual
service been my closest companion both in the coenobium and in the desert, so
that to show the harmony of our friendship and aims, everybody would say that
a single heart and soul existed in our two bodies), I sought out Abbot
Moses,(1) who was eminent amid those splendid flowers, not only in practical
but also in contemplative excellence, in my anxiety to be grounded by his
instruction: and together we implored him to give us a discourse for our
edification; not without tears, for we knew full well his determination never
to consent to open the gate of perfection, except to those who desired it with
all faithfulness, and sought it with all sorrow of heart; for fear lest if he
showed it at random to those who cared nothing for it, or only desired it in a
half-hearted way, by opening what is necessary, and what ought only to be
discovered to those seeking perfection, to unworthy persons, and such as
accepted it with scorn, he might appear to lay himself open either to the
charge of bragging, or to the sin of betraying his trust; and at last being
overcome by our prayers he thus began.
CHAPTER II.
Of the question of Abbot Moses, who asked what was the goal
and what the end of the monk.
ALL the arts and sciences, said he, have some goal or mark; and end or aim
of their own, on which the diligent pursuer of each art has his eye, and so
endures all sorts of toils and dangers and losses, cheerfully and with
equanimity, e.g., the farmer, shunning neither at one time the scorching heat
of the sun, nor at another the frost and cold, cleaves the earth unweariedly,
and again and again subjects the clods of his field to his ploughshare, while
he keeps before him his goal; viz., by diligent labour to break it up small
like fine sand, and to clear it of all briers, and free it from all weeds, as
he believes that in no other way can he gain his ultimate end, which is to
secure a good harvest, and a large crop; on which he can either live himself
free from care, or can increase his possessions. Again, when his barn is well
stocked he is quite ready to empty it, and with incessant labour to commit the
seed to the crumbling furrow, thinking nothing of the present lessening of his
stores in view of the future harvest. Those men too who are engaged in
mercantile pursuits, have no dread of the uncertainties and chances of the
ocean, and fear no risks, while an eager hope urges them forward to their aim
of gain. Moreover those who are inflamed with the ambition of military life,
while they look forward to their aim of honours and power take no notice of
danger and destruction in their wanderings, and are not crushed by present
losses and wars, while they are eager to obtain the end of some honour held
out to them. And our profession too has its own goal and end, for which we
undergo all sorts of toils not merely without weariness but actually with
delight; on account of which the want of food in fasting is no trial to us,
the weariness of our vigils becomes a delight; reading and constant meditation
on the Scriptures does not pall upon us; and further incessant toil, and
self-denial, and the privation of all things, and the horrors also of this
vast desert have no terrors for us. And doubtless for this it was that you
yourselves despised the love of
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kinsfolk, and scorned your fatherland, and the delights of this world, and
passed through so many countries, in order that you might come to us, plain
and simple folk as we are, living in this wretched state in the desert.
Wherefore, said he, answer and tell me what is the goal and end, which incite
you to endure all these things so cheerfully.
CHAPTER III.
Of our reply.
AND when he insisted on eliciting an opinion from us on this question, we
replied that we endured all this for the sake of the kingdom of heaven.
CHAPTER IV.
Of Abbot Moses' question on the aforesaid statement.
TO which he replied: Good, you have spoken cleverly of the (ultimate) end.
But what should be our (immediate) goal or mark, by constantly sticking close
to which we can gain our end, you ought first to know. And when we frankly
confessed our ignorance, he proceeded: The first thing, as I said, in all the
arts and sciences is to have some goal, i.e., a mark for the mind, mad
constant mental purpose, for unless a man keeps this before him with all
diligence and persistence, he will never succeed in arriving at the ultimate
aim and the gain which he desires. For, as I said, the farmer who has for his
aim to live free from care and with plenty, while his crops are springing has
this as his immediate object and goal; viz., to keep his field clear from all
brambles, and weeds, and does not fancy that he can otherwise ensure wealth
and a peaceful end, unless he first secures by some plan of work and hope that
which he is anxious to obtain. The business man too does not lay aside the
desire of procuring wares, by means of which he may more profitably amass
riches, because he would desire gain to no purpose, unless he chose the road
which leads to it: and those men who are anxious to be decorated with the
honours of this world, first make up their minds to what duties and conditions
they must devote themselves, that in the regular course of hope they may
succeed in gaining the honours they desire. And so the end of our way of life
is indeed the kingdom of God. But what is the (immediate) goal you must
earnestly ask, for if it is not in the same way discovered by us, we shall
strive and wear ourselves out to no purpose, because a man who is travelling
in a wrong direction, has all the trouble and gets none of the good of his
journey. And when we stood gaping at this remark, the old man proceeded: The
end of our profession indeed, as I said, is the kingdom of God or the kingdom
of heaven: but the immediate aim or goal, is purity of heart, without which no
one can gain that end: fixing our gaze then steadily on this goal, as if on a
definite mark, let us direct our course as straight towards it as possible,
and if our thoughts wander somewhat from this, let us revert to our gaze upon
it, and check them accurately as by a sure standard, which will always bring
back all our efforts to this one mark, and will show at once if our mind has
wandered ever so little from the direction marked out for it.
CHAPTER V.
A comparison with a man who is trying to hit a mark.
AS those, whose business it is to use weapons of war, whenever they want
to show their skill in their art before a king of this world, try to shoot
their arrows or darts into certain small targets which have the prizes painted
on them; for they know that they cannot in any other way than by the line of
their aim secure the end and the prize they hope for, which they will only
then enjoy when they have been able to hit the mark set before them; but if it
happens to be withdrawn from their sight, however much in their want of skill
their aim may vainly deviate from the straight path, yet they cannot perceive
that they have strayed from the direction of the intended straight line
because they have no distinct mark to prove the skilfulness of their aim, or
to show up its badness: and therefore while they shoot their missiles idly
into space, they cannot see how they have gone wrong or how utterly at fault
they are, since no mark is their accuser, showing how far they have gone
astray from the right direction; nor can an unsteady, look help them to
correct and restore the straight line enjoined on them. So then the end indeed
which we have set before us is, as the Apostle says, eternal life, as he
declares, "having indeed your fruit unto holiness, and the end eternal
life;"(1) but the immediate goal is purity of heart, which he not unfairly
terms "sanctification," without which the afore-mentioned end cannot be
gained; as if he had said in other words, having your immediate goal in purity
of heart, but the end
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life eternal. Of which goal the same blessed Apostle teaches us, and
significantly uses the very term, i.e., okopos, saying as
follows, "Forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to
those that are before, I press toward the mark, lot the prize of the high
calling of the Lord:"(1) which is more clearly put in Greek
kata skopon diwkw, i.e., "I press
toward the mark, as if he said, "With this aim, with which I forget those
things that are behind, i.e., the faults of earlier life, I strive to reach as
the end the heavenly prize." Whatever then can help to guide us to this
object; viz., purity of heart, we must follow with all our might, but whatever
hinders us from it, we must shun as a dangerous and hurtful thing. For, for
this we do and endure all things, for this we make light of our kinsfolk, our
country, honours, riches, the delights of this world, and all kinds of
pleasures, namely in order that we may retain a lasting purity of heart. And
so when this object is set before us, we shall always direct our actions and
thoughts straight towards the attainment of it; for if it be not constantly:
fixed before our eyes, it will not only make all our toils vain and useless,
and force them: to be endured to no purpose and without any reward, but it
will also excite all kinds of thoughts opposed to one another. For the mind,
which has no fixed point to which it may return, and on which it may chiefly
fasten, is sure to rove about from hour to hour and minute to minute in all
sorts of wandering: thoughts, and from those things which come to it from
outside, to be constantly changed into that state which first offers itself to
it.
CHAPTER VI.
Of those who in renouncing the world, aim at perfection without love.
FOR hence it arises that in the case of some who have despised the
greatest possessions of this world, and not only large sums of gold and
silver, but also large properties, we have seen them afterwards disturbed and
excited over a knife, or pencil, or pin, or pen. Whereas if they kept their
gaze steadily fixed out of a pure heart they would certainly never allow such
a thing to happen for trifles, while in order that they might not suffer it in
the case of great and precious riches they chose rather to renounce them
altogether. For often too some guard their books so jealously that they will
not allow them to be even slightly moved or touched by any one else, and from
this fact they meet with occasions of impatience and death, which give them
warning of the need of acquiring the requisite patience and love; and when
they have given up all their wealth for the love of Christ, yet as they
preserve their former disposition in the matter of trifles, and are sometimes
quickly upset about them, they become in all points barren and unfruitful, as
those who are without the charity of which the Apostle speaks: and this the
blessed Apostle foresaw in spirit, and "though," says he, "I give all my goods
to feed the poor, and give my body to be burned, but have not charity, it
profiteth me nothing."(2) And from this it clearly follows that perfection is
not arrived at simply by self-denial, and the giving up of all our goods, and
the casting away of honours, unless there is that charity, the details of
which the Apostle describes, which consists in purity of heart alone. For "not
to be envious," "not to be puffed up, not to be angry, not to do any wrong,
not to seek one's own, not to rejoice in iniquity, not to think evil" etc.
what is all this except ever to offer to God a perfect and clean heart, and to
keep it free from all disturbances?
CHAPTER VII.
How peace of mind should be sought.
EVERYTHING should be done and sought after by us for the sake of this. For
this we must seek for solitude, for this we know that we ought to submit to
fastings, vigils, toils, bodily [nakedness, reading, and all other virtues
that through them we may be enabled to prepare our heart and to keep it
unharmed by all evil passions, and resting on these steps to mount to the
perfection of charity, and with regard to these observances, if by accident we
have been employed in some good and useful occupation and have been unable to
carry out our customary discipline, we should not be overcome by vexation or
anger, or passion, with the object of overcoming which, we were going to do
that which we have omitted. For the gain from fasting will not balance the
loss from anger, nor is the profit from reading so great as the harm which
results from despising a brother. Those things which are of secondary
importance, such as fastings, vigils, withdrawal from the world, meditation on
Scripture, we ought to practise with a view to our main object, i.e., purity
of heart, which is charity, and we ought not on their account to drive away
this main virtue, for as long as it is still found in us intact and unharmed,
we
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shall not be hurt if any of the things which are of secondary importance are
necessarily omitted; since it will not be of the slightest use to have done
everything, if this main reason of which we have spoken be removed, for the
sake of which everything is to be done. For on this account one is anxious to
secure and provide for one's self the implements for any branch of work, not
simply to possess them to no purpose, nor as if one made the profit and
advantage, which is looked for from them, to consist in the bare fact of
possession but that by using them, one may effectually secure practical
knowledge and the end of that particular art of which they are auxiliaries.
Therefore fastings, vigils, meditation on the Scriptures, self-denial, and the
abnegation of all possesions are not perfection, but aids to perfection:
because the end of that science does not lie in these, but by means of these
we arrive at the end. He then will practise these exercises to no purpose, who
is contented with these as if they were the highest good, and has fixed the
purpose of his heart simply on them, and does not extend his efforts towards
reaching the end, on account of which these should be sought: for he possesses
indeed the implements of his art, but is ignorant of the end, in which all
that is valuable resides. Whatever then can disturb that purity and peace of
mind--even though it may seem useful and valuable--should be shunned as really
hurtful, for by this rule we shall succeed in escaping harm from mistakes and
vagaries, and make straight for the desired end and reach it.
CHAPTER VIII.
Of the main effort towards the contemplation of things and an illustration
from the case of Martha and Mary.
THIS then should be our main effort: and this steadfast purpose of heart
we should constantly aspire after; viz., that the soul may ever cleave to God
and to heavenly things. Whatever is alien to this, however great it may be,
should be given the second place, or even treated as of no consequence, or
perhaps as hurtful. We have an excellent illustration of this state of mind
and condition in the gospel in the case of Martha and Mary: for when Martha
was performing a service that was certainly a sacred one, since she was
ministering to the Lord and His disciples, and Mary being intent only on
spiritual instruction was clinging close to the feet of Jesus which she kissed
and anointed with the ointment of a good confession, she is shown by the Lord
to have chosen the better part, and one which should not be taken away from
her: for when Martha was toiling with pious care, and was cumbered about her
service, seeing that of herself alone she was insufficient for such service
she asks for the help of her sister from the Lord, saying: "Carest Thou not
that my sister has left me to serve alone: bid her therefore that she help
me"--certainly it was to no unworthy work, but to a praiseworthy service that
she summoned her: and yet what does she hear from the Lord? "Martha, Martha,
thou art anxious and troubled about many things: but few things are needful,
or only one. Mary hath chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away
from her."(1) You see then that the Lord makes the chief good consist in
meditation; i.e., in divine contemplation: whence we see that all other
virtues should be put in the second place, even though we admit that they are
necessary, and useful, and excellent, because they are all performed for the
sake of this one thing. For when the Lord says: "Thou art careful and troubled
about many things, but few things are needful or only one," He makes the chief
good consist not in practical work however praiseworthy and rich in fruits it
may be, but in contemplation of Him, which indeed is simple and "but one";
declaring that "few things" are needful for perfect bliss, i.e., that
contemplation which is first secured by reflecting on a few saints: from the
contemplation of whom, he who has made some progress rises and attains by
God's help to that which is termed "one thing," i.e., the consideration of God
alone, so as to get beyond those actions and services of Saints, and feed on
the beauty and knowledge of God alone. "Mary" therefore "chose the good, part,
which shall not be taken away from her. And this must be more carefully
considered. For when He says that Mary chose the good part, although He says
nothing of Martha, and certainly does not appear to blame her, yet in praising
the one, He implies that the other is inferior. Again when He says "which
shall not be taken away from her" He shows that from the other her portion can
be taken away (for a bodily ministry cannot last forever with a man), but
teaches that this one's desire can never have an end.
CHAPTER IX.
A question how it is that the practice of virtue with a man.
To which we, being deeply moved, replied what then? will the effort of
fasting, dili-
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gence in reading, works of mercy, justice, piety, and kindness, be taken away
from us, and not continue with the doers of them, especially since the Lord
Himself promises the reward of the kingdom of heaven to these works, when He
says: "Come, ye blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you
from the beginning of the world. For I was an hungred, and ye gave Me to eat;
I was thirsty and ye gave Me to drink:" etc.(1) How then shall these works be
taken away, which admit the doers of them into the kingdom of heaven?
CHAPTER X.
The answer that not the reward, but the doing of them will
come to an end.
MOSES. I did not say that the reward for a good work would be taken away,
as the Lord Himself says: "Whosoever shall give to one of the least of these,
a cup of cold water only in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he
shall not lose his reward:"(2) but I maintain that the doing of a thing, which
either bodily necessity, or the onslaught of the flesh, or the inequalities of
this world, compel to be done, will be taken away. For diligence in reading,
and self-denial in fasting, are usefully practised for purifying the heart and
chastening the flesh in this life only, as long as "the flesh lusteth against
the spirit,"(8) and sometimes we see that even in this life they are taken
away from those men who are worn out with excessive toil, or bodily infirmity
or old age, and cannot be practised by them. How much more then will they come
to an end hereafter, when "this corruptible shall have put on
incorruption,"(4) and the body which is now "a natural body" shall have risen
"a spiritual body"(5) and the flesh shall have begun to be such that it no
longer lusts against the spirit? And of this the blessed Apostle also clearly
speaks, when he says that "bodily exercise is profitable for a little: but
godliness (by which he certainly means love) "is profitable for all things,
having the promise of the life that now is and of that which is to come."(6)
This clearly shows that what is said to be useful for a little, is not to be
practised for all time, and cannot possibly by itself alone confer the highest
state of perfection on the man who slaves at it. For the term "for a little"
may mean either of the two things, i.e., it may refer to the shortness of the
time, because bodily exercise cannot possibly last on with man both in this
life and in the world to come: or it may refer to the smallness of the profit
which results from exercising the flesh, because bodily austerities produce
some sort of beginnings of progress, but not the actual perfection of love,
which has the promise of the life that now is and of that which is to come:
and therefore we deem that the practice of the aforesaid works is needful,
because without them we cannot climb the heights of love. For what you call
works of religion and mercy are needful in this life while these inequalities
and differences of conditions still prevail; but even here we should not look
for them to be performed, unless such a large proportion of poor, needy, and
sick folk abounded, which is brought about by the wickedness of men; viz., of
those who have grasped and kept for their own use (without however using them)
those things which were granted to all by the Creator of all alike. As long
then as this inequality lasts in this world, this sort of work will be needful
and useful to the man that practises it, as it brings to a good purpose and
pious will the reward of an eternal inheritance: but it will come to an end in
the life to come, where equality will reign, when there will be no longer
inequality, on account of which these things must be done, but all men will
pass from these manifold practical works to the love of God, and contemplation
of heavenly things in continual purity of heart: to which those men who are
urgent in devoting themselves to knowledge and purifying the heart, have
chosen to give themselves up with all their might and main, betaking
themselves, while they are still in the flesh, to that duty, in which they are
to continue, when they have laid aside corruption, and when they come to that
promise of the Lord the Saviour, which says "Blessed are the pure in heart for
they shall see God."(7)
CHAPTER XI.
On the abiding character of love.
AND why do you wonder that those duties enumerated above will cease, when
the holy Apostle tells us that even the higher gifts of the Holy Spirit will
pass away: and points out that charity alone will abide without end, saying
"whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they
shall cease: whether there be knowledge, it will
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Come to an end," but of this he says "Charity never faileth." For all gifts
are given for a time as use and need require, but when the dispensation is
ended they will without doubt presently pass away: but love will never be
destroyed. For not only does it work usefully in us in this world; but also in
that to come, when the burden of bodily needs is cast off, it will continue in
far greater vigour and excellence, and will never be weakened by any defect,
but by means of its perpetual incorruption will cling to God more intently and
earnestly.(1)
CHAPTER XII.
A question on perseverance in spiritual contemplation.
GERMANUS. Who then, while he is burdened with our frail flesh, can be
always so intent on this contemplation, as never to think about the arrival of
a brother, or visiting the sick, or manual labour, or at least about showing
kindness to strangers and visitors? And lastly, who is not interrupted by
providing for the body, and looking after it? Or how and in what way can the
mind cling to the invisible and incomprehensible God, this we should like to
learn.
CHAPTER XIII.
The answer concerning the direction of the heart towards
and concerning the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the devil.
MOSES. To cling to God continually, and as you say inseparably to hold
fast to meditation on Him, is impossible for a man while still in this weak
flesh of ours. But we ought to be aware on what we should have the purpose of
our mind fixed, and to what goal we should ever recall the gaze of our soul:
and when the mind can secure this it may rejoice; and grieve and sigh when it
is withdrawn from this, and as often as it discovers itself to have fallen
away from gazing on Him, it should admit that it has lapsed from the highest
good, considering that even a momentary departure from gazing on Christ is
fornication. And when our gaze has wandered ever so little from Him, let us
turn the eyes of the soul back to Him, and recall our mental gaze as in a
perfectly straight direction. For everything depends on the inward frame of
mind, and when the devil has been expelled. from this, and sins no longer
reign in it, it follows that the kingdom of God as founded in us, as the
Evangelist says "The kingdom of God cometh not with observation, nor shall men
say Lo here, or lo there: for verily I say unto you that the kingdom of God is
within you."(2) But nothing else can be "within you," but knowledge or
ignorance of truth, and delight either in vice or in virtue, through which we
prepare a kingdom for the devil or for Christ in our heart: and of this
kingdom the Apostle describes the character, when he says "For the kingdom of
God is not meat and drink, but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy
Ghost."(3) And so if the kingdom of God is within us, and the actual kingdom
of God is righteousness and peace and joy, then the man who abides in these is
most certainly in the kingdom of God, and on the contrary those who live in
unrighteousness, and discord, and the sorrow that worketh death, have their
place in the kingdom of the devil, and in hell and death. For by these tokens
the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the devil are distinguished: and in
truth if lifting up our mental gaze on high we would consider that state in
which the heavenly powers live on high, who are truly in the kingdom of God,
what should we imagine it to be except perpetual and lasting joy? For what is
so specially peculiar and appropriate to true blessedness as constant calm and
eternal joy? And that you may be quite sure that this, which we say, is really
so, not on my own authority but on that of the Lord, hear how very clearly He
describes the character and condition of that world: "Behold," says He, "I
create new beavers and a new earth: and the former things shall not be
remembered nor come into mind. But ye shall be glad and rejoice forever in
that which I create."(4) And again "joy and gladness shall be found therein:
thanksgiving and the voice of praise, and there shall be month after month,
and Sabbath after Sabbath."(5) And again: "they shall obtain joy and gladness;
and sorrow and sighing shall flee away."(6) And if you want to know more
definitely about that life and the city of the saints, hear what the voice of
the Lord proclaims to the heavenly Jerusalem herself: "I will make," says He,
"thine officers peace and thine overseers righteousness. Violence shall no
more be heard in thy land, desolation nor destruction within thy borders. And
salvation shall take possession of thy walls, and praise of thy gates. The sun
shall be no more thy light by day, neither shall the brightness of the moon
give light to thee: but the Lord shall be
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thine everlasting light, and thy God thy glory. Thy sun shall no more go down,
neither shall thy moon withdraw itself: but the Lord shall be thine
everlasting light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended:"(1) and
therefore the holy Apostle does not say generally or without qualification
that every joy is the kingdom of God, but markedly and emphatically that joy
alone which is "in the Holy Ghost."(2) For he was perfectly aware of another
detestable joy, of which we hear "the world shall rejoice,"(3) and "woe unto
you that laugh, for ye shall mourn."(4) In fact the kingdom of heaven must be
taken in a threefold sense, either that the heavens shall reign, i.e., the
saints over other things subdued, according to this text, "Be thou over five
cities, and thou over ten;"(5) and this which is said to the disciples: "Ye
shall sit upon twelve thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel:"(6) or that
the heavens themselves shall begin to be reigned over by Christ, when "all
things are subdued unto Him," and God begins to be "all in all:"(7) or else
that the saints shall reign in heaven with the Lord.
CHAPTER XIV.
Of the continuance of the soul.
WHEREFORE every one while still existing in this body should already be aware
that he must be committed to that state and office, of which he made himself a
sharer and an adherent while in this life, nor should he doubt that in that
eternal world he will be partner of him, whose servant and minister he chose
to make himself here: according to that saying of our Lord which says "If any
man serve Me, let him follow Me, and where I am, there shall My servant also
be."(8) For as the kingdom of the devil is gained by consenting to sin, so the
kingdom of God is attained by the practice of virtue in purity of heart and
spiritual knowledge. But where the kingdom of God is, there most certainly
eternal life is enjoyed, and where the kingdom of the devil is, there without
doubt is death and the grave. And the man who is in this condition, cannot
praise the Lord, according to the saying of the prophet which tells us: "The
dead cannot praise Thee, O Lord; neither all they that go down into the grave
(doubtless of sin). But we," says he, "who live(not forsooth to sin nor I to
this world but to God) will bless the Lord, from this time forth for evermore:
for in death no man remembereth God: but in the grave (of sin) who will
confess to the Lord?"(9) i.e., no one will. For no man even though he were to
call himself a Christian a thousand times over, or a monk, confesses God when
he is sinning: no man who allows those things which the Lord hates,
remembereth God, nor calls himself with any truth the servant of Him, whose
commands he scorns with obstinate rashness: in which death the blessed Apostle
declares that the widow is involved, who gives herself to pleasure, saying "a
widow who giveth herself to pleasure is dead while she liveth."(10) There are
then many who while still living in this body are dead, and lying in the grave
cannot praise God; and on the contrary there are many who though they are dead
in the body yet bless God in the spirit, and praise Him, according to this: "O
ye spirits and souls of the righteous, bless ye the Lord:"(11) and "every
spirit shall praise the Lord."(12) And in the Apocalypse the souls of them
that are slain are not only said to praise God but to address Him also.(13) In
the gospel too the Lord says with still greater clearness to the Sadducees:
"Have ye not read that which was spoken by God, when He said to you: I am the
God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob. He is not the God
of the dead but of the living: for all do live unto Him."(14) Of whom also the
Apostle says: "wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God: for He
hath prepared for them a city."(15) For that they are not idle after the
separation from this body, and are not incapable of feeling, the parable in
the gospel shows, which tells us of the beggar Lazarus and Dives clothed in
purple, one of whom obtained a position of bliss, i.e., Abraham's bosom, the
other is consumed with the dreadful heat of eternal fire.(16) But if you care
too to understand the words spoken to the thief "To-day thou shalt be with Me
in Paradise,"(17) what do they clearly show but that not only does their
former intelligence continue with the souls, but also that in their changed
condition they partake of some state which corresponds to their actions and
deserts? For the Lord would certainly never have promised him this, if He had
known that his soul after being separated from the flesh would either have
been deprived of perception or have been resolved into nothing. For it was not
his flesh but his soul which was to enter Paradise with Christ. At least we
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must avoid, and shun with the utmost horror, that wicked punctuation of the
heretics, who, as they do not believe that Christ could be found in Paradise
on the same day on which He descended into hell, thus punctuate "Verily, I say
unto you to-day," and making a stop apply "thou shall be with. Me in Paradise,
in such a way that they imagine that this promise was not fulfilled at once
after he departed from this life, but that it will be fulfilled after the
resurrection,(1) as they do not understand what before the time of His
resurrection He declared to the Jews, who fancied that He was hampered by
human difficulties and weakness of the flesh as they were: "No man hath
ascended into heaven, but He who came down from heaven, even the Son of man
who is in heaven:"(2) by which He clearly shows that the souls of the departed
are not only not deprived of their reason, but that they are not even without
such feelings as hope and sorrow, joy and fear, and that they already are
beginning to taste beforehand something of what is reserved for them at the
last judgment, and that they are not as some unbelievers hold resolved into
nothing after their departure from this life:(3) but that they live a more
real life, and are still more earnest in waiting on the praises of God. And
indeed to put aside for a little Scripture proofs, and to discuss, as far as
our ability permits us, a little about the nature of the soul itself, is it
not beyond the bounds of I will not say the folly, but the madness of all
stupidity, even to have the slightest suspicion that the nobler part of man,
in which as the blessed Apostle shows, the image and likeness of God
consists,(4) will, when the burden of the body with which it is oppressed in
this world is laid aside, become insensible, when, as it contains in itself
all the power of reason, it makes the dumb and senseless material flesh
sensible, by participation with it: especially when it follows, and the order
of reason itself demands that when the mind has put off the grossness of the
flesh with which it is now weighed down, it will restore its intellectual
powers better than ever, and receive them in a purer and finer condition than
it lost them. But so far did the blessed Apostle recognize that what we say is
true, that he actually wished to depart from this flesh; that by separation
from it, he might be able to be joined more earnestly to the Lord; saying: "I
desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ, which is far better, for while
we are in the body we are absent from the Lord:" and therefore "we are bold
and have our desire always to be absent from the body, and present with the
Lord. Wherefore also we strive, whether absent or present, to be pleasing to
Him;"(5) and he declares indeed that the continuance of the soul which is in
the flesh is distance from the Lord, and absence from Christ, and trusts with
entire faith that its separation and departure from this flesh involves
presence with Christ. And again still more clearly the same Apostle speaks of
this state of the souls as one that is very full of life: "But ye are come to
Mount Sion, and the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an
innumerable company of angels, and the church of the first born, who are
written in heaven, and the spirits of just men made perfect."(6) Of which
spirits he speaks in another passage, "Furthermore we have had instructors of
our flesh, and we reverenced them: shall we not much more be subject to the
Father of spirits and live?"(7)
CHAPTER XV.
How we must meditate on God.
BUT the contemplation of God is gained in a variety of ways. For we not
only discover God by admiring His incomprehensible essence, a thing which
still lies hid in the hope of the promise, but we see Him through the
greatness of His creation, and the consideration of His justice, and the aid
of His daily providence: when with pure minds we contemplate what He has done
with His saints in every generation, when with trembling heart we admire His
power with which He governs, directs, and rules all things, or the vastness of
His knowledge, and that eye of His from which no secrets of the heart can lie
hid, when we consider the sand of the sea, and the number of the waves
measured by Him and known to Him, when in our wonder we think that the drops
of rain, the days and hours of the ages, and all things past and future are
present to His knowledge; when we gaze in unbounded admiration on that
ineffable mercy of His, which with unwearied patience endures countless sins
which are
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every moment being committed under His very eyes, or the call with which from
no antecedent merits of ours, but by the free grace of His pity He receives
us; or again the numberless opportunities of salvation which He grants to
those whom He is going to adopt--that He made us be born in such a way as that
from our very cradles His grace and the knowledge of His law might be given to
us, that He Himself, overcoming our enemy in us simply for the pleasure of His
good will, rewards us with eternal bliss and everlasting rewards, when lastly
He undertook the dispensation of His Incarnation for our salvation, and
extended the marvels of His sacraments(1) to all nations. But there are
numberless other considerations of this sort, which arise in our minds
according to the character of our life and the purity of our heart, by which
God is either seen by pure eyes or embraced: which considerations certainly no
one will preserve lastingly, if anything of carnal affections still survives
in him, because "thou canst not," saith the Lord, "see My face: for no man
shall see Me and live;"(2) viz., to this world and to earthly affections.
CHAPTER XVI.
A question on the changing character of the thoughts.
GERMANUS. How is it then, that even against our will, aye and without our
knowledge idle thoughts steal upon us so subtilely and secretly that it is
fearfully hard not merely to drive them away, but even to grasp and seize
them? Can then a mind sometimes be found free from them, and never attacked by
illusions of this kind?
CHAPTER XVII.
The answer what the mind can and what it cannot do with regard to the state of
its thoughts.
MOSES. It is impossible for the mind not to be approached by thoughts, but
it is in the power of every earnest man either to admit them or to reject
them. As then their rising up does not entirely depend on ourselves, so the
rejection or admission of them lies in our own power. But because we said that
it is impossible for the mind not to be approached by thoughts, you must not
lay everything to the charge of the assault, or to those spirits who strive to
instil them into us, else there would not remain any free will in man, nor
would efforts for our improvement be in our power: but it is, I say, to a
great extent in our power to improve the character of our thoughts and to let
either holy and spiritual thoughts or earthly ones grow up m our hearts. For
for this purpose frequent reading and continual meditation on the Scriptures
is employed that from thence an opportunity for spiritual recollection may be
given to us, therefore the frequent singing of Psalms is used, that thence
constant feelings of compunction may be provided, and earnest vigils and fasts
and prayers, that the mind may be brought low and not mind earthly things, but
contemplate things celestial, for if these things are dropped and carelessness
creeps on us, the mind being hardened with the foulness of sin is sure to
incline in a carnal direction and fall away.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Comparison of a soul and a millstone.
AND this movement of the heart is not unsuitably illustrated by the
comparison of a mill wheel, which the headlong rush of water whirls round,
with revolving impetus, and which can never stop its work so long as it is
driven round by the action of the water: but it is in the power of the man who
directs it, to decide whether he will have wheat or barley or darnel ground by
it. That certainly must be crushed by it which is put into it by the man who
has charge of that business. So then the mind also through the trials of the
present life is driven about by the torrents of temptations pouring in upon it
from all sides, and cannot be free from the flow of thoughts: but the
character of the thoughts which it should either throw off or admit for
itself, it will provide by the efforts of its own earnestness and diligence:
for if, as we said, we constantly recur to meditation on the Holy Scriptures
and raise our memory towards the recollection of spiritual things and the
desire of perfection and the hope of future bliss, spiritual thoughts are sure
to rise from this, and cause the mind to dwell on those things on which we
have been meditating. But if we are overcome by sloth or carelessness and
spend our time in idle gossip, or are entangled in the cares of this world and
unnecessary anxieties, the result will be that a sort of species of tares will
spring up, and afford an injurious occupation for our hearts, and as our
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Lord and Saviour says, wherever the treasure of our works or purpose may be,
there also our heart is sure to continue.(1)
CHAPTER XIX.
Of the three origins of our thoughts.
ABOVE all we ought at least to know that there are three origins of our
thoughts, i.e., from God, from the devil, and from ourselves. They come from
God when He vouchsafes to visit us with the illumination of the Holy Ghost,
lifting us up to a higher state of progress, and where we have made but little
progress, or through acting slothfully have been overcome, He chastens us with
most salutary compunction, or when He discloses to us heavenly mysteries, or
turns our purpose and will to better actions, as in the case where the king
Ahasuerus, being chastened by the Lord, was prompted to ask for the books of
the annals, by which he was reminded of the good deeds of Mordecai, and
promoted him to a position of the highest honour and at once recalled his most
cruel sentence concerning the slaughter of the Jews.(2) Or when the prophet
says: " will hearken what the Lord God will say in me."(3) Another too tells
us "And an angel spoke, and said in me,"(4) or when the Son of God promised
that He would come with His Father, and make His abode in us,(5) and "It is
not ye that speak, but the Spirit of your Father which speaketh in you."(6)
And the chosen vessel: Ye seek a proof of Christ that speaketh in me."(7) But
a whole range of thoughts springs from the devil, when he endeavours to
destroy us either by the pleasures of sin or by secret attacks, in his crafty
wiles deceitfully showing us evil as good, and transforming himself into an
angel of light to us:(8) as when the evangelist tells us: "And when supper was
ended, when the devil had already put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot,
Simon's son, to betray"(9) the Lord: and again also "after the sop," he says,
"Satan entered into him."(10) Peter also says to Ananias: "Why hath Satan
tempted thine heart, to lie to the Holy Ghost?"(11) And that which we read in
the gospel much earlier as predicted by Ecclesiastes: "If the spirit of the
ruler rise up against thee, leave not thy place."(12) That too which is said
to God against Ahab in the third book of Kings, in the character of an unclean
spirit: "I will go forth and will be a lying spirit in the mouth of all his
prophets."(13) But they arise from ourselves, when in the course of nature we
recollect what we are doing or have done or have heard. Of which the blessed
David speaks: "I thought upon the ancient days, and had in mind the years from
of old, and I meditated, by night I exercised myself with my heart, and
searched out my spirit."(14) And again: "the Lord knoweth the thoughts of man,
that they are vain:"(15) and "the thoughts of the righteous are
judgments."(16) In the gospel too the Lord says to the Pharisees: "why do ye
think evil in your hearts?"(17)
CHAPTER XX.
About discerning the thoughts, with an illustration from a
good money-changer.
WE ought then carefully to notice this threefold order, and with a wise
discretion to analyse the thoughts which arise in our hearts, tracking out
their origin and cause and author in the first instance, that we may be able
to consider how we ought to yield ourselves to them in accordance with the of
those who suggest them so that we may, desert as the Lord's command bids us,
become good money-changers,(18) whose highest skill and whose training is to
test what is perfectly pure gold and what is commonly termed tested,(19) or
what is not sufficiently purified in the fire; and also with unerring skill
not to be taken in by a common brass denarius, if by being coloured with
bright gold it is made like some coin of great value; and not only shrewdly to
recognize coins stamped with the heads of usurpers, but with a still shrewder
skill to detect those which have the image of the right king, but are not
properly made, and lastly to be careful by the test of the balance to see that
they are not under proper weight. All of which
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things the gospel saying, which uses this figure, shows us that we ought also
to observe spiritually; first that whatever has found an entrance into our
hearts, and whatever doctrine has been received by us, should be most
carefully examined to see whether it has been purified by the divine and
heavenly fire of the Holy Ghost, or whether it belongs to Jewish superstition,
or whether it comes from the pride of a worldly philosophy and only externally
makes a show of religion. And this we can do, if we carry out the Apostle's
advice, "Believe not every spirit, but prove the spirits whether they are of
God."(1) But by this kind those men also are deceived, who after having been
professed as monks are enticed by the grace of style, and certain doctrines of
philosophers, which at the first blush, owing to some pious meanings not out
of harmony with religion, deceive as with the glitter of gold their hearers,
whom they have superficially attracted, but render them poor and miserable for
ever, like men deceived by false money made of copper: either bringing them
back to the bustle of this world, or enticing them into the errors of
heretics, and bombastic conceits: a thing which we read of as happening to
Achan in the book of Joshua the son of Nun,(2) when he coveted a golden weight
from the camp of the Philistines, and stole it, and was smitten with a curse
and condemned to eternal death. In the second place we should be careful to
see that no wrong interpretation fixed on to the pure gold of Scripture
deceives us as to the value of the metal: by which means the devil in his
craft tried to impose upon our Lord and Saviour as if He was a mere man, when
by his malevolent interpretation he perverted what ought to be understood
generally of all good men, and tried to fasten it specially on to Him, who had
no need of the care of the angels: saying, "For He shall give His angels
charge concerning Thee, to keep Thee in all Thy ways: and in their hands they
shall bear Thee up, lest at any time Thou dash Thy foot against a stone,"(3)
by a skilful assumption on his part giving a turn to the precious sayings of
Scripture and twisting them into a dangerous sense, the very opposite of their
true meaning, so as to offer to us the image and face of an usurper under
cover of the gold colour which may deceive us. Or whether he tries to cheat us
with counterfeits, for instance by urging that some work of piety should be
taken up which as it does come from the true minds of the fathers, leads under
the form of virtue to vice; and, deceiving us either by immoderate or
impossible fasts, or by too long vigils, or inordinate prayers, or unsuitable
reading, brings us to a bad end. Or, when he persuades us to give ourselves up
to mixing in the affairs of others, and to pious visits, by which he may drive
us away from the spiritual cloisters of the monastery, and the secrecy of its
friendly peacefulness, and suggests that we take on our shoulders the
anxieties and cares of religious women who are in want, that when a monk is
inextricably entangled in snares of this sort he may distract him with most
injurious occupations and cares. Or else when he incites a man to desire the
holy office of the clergy under the pretext of edifying many people, and the
love of spiritual gain, by which to draw us away from the humility and
strictness of our life. All of which things, although they are opposed to our
salvation and to our profession, yet when covered with a sort of veil of
compassion and religion, easily deceive those who are lacking in skill and
care. For they imitate the coins of the true king, because they seem at first
full of piety, but are not stamped by those who have the right to coin, i.e.,
the approved Catholic fathers, nor do they proceed from the head public office
for receiving them, but are made by stealth and by the fraud of the devil, and
palmed off upon the unskilful and ignorant not without serious harm. And even
although they seem to be useful and needful at first, yet if afterwards they
begin to interfere with the soundness of our profession, and as it were to
weaken in some sense the whole body of our purpose, it is well that they
should be cut off and cast away from us like a member which may be necessary,
but yet offends us and which seems to perform the office of the right hand or
foot. For it is better, without one member of a command, i.e., its working or
result, to continue safe and sound in other parts, and to enter as weak into
the kingdom of heaven rather than with the whole mass of commands to fall into
some error which by an evil custom separates us from our strict rule and the
system purposed and entered upon, and leads to such loss, that it will never
outweigh the harm that will follow, but will cause all our past fruits and the
whole body of our work to be burnt in hell fire.(4) Of which kind of illusions
it is well said in the Proverbs: "There are ways which seem to be right to a
man, but their latter end will come into the depths of hell,"(5) and again "An
evil man is harmful when he attaches himself to a good man," (6)
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i.e., the devil deceives when he is covered with an appearance of sanctity:
"but he hates the sound of the watchman,"(1) i.e., the power of discretion
which comes from the words and warnings of the fathers.
CHAPTER XXI.
Of the illusion of Abbot John.
IN this manner we have heard that Abbot John who lived at Lycon,(2) was
recently deceived. For when his body was exhausted and failing as he had put
off taking food during a fast of two days, on the third day while he was on
his way to take some refreshment the devil came in the shape of a filthy
Ethiopian, and falling at his feet, cried "Pardon me because I appointed this
labour for you." And so that great man, who was so perfect in the matter of
discretion, understood that under pretence of an abstinence! practised
unsuitably, he was deceived by the craft of the devil, and engaged in a fast
of such a character as to affect his worn out body with a weariness that was
unnecessary, indeed that was harmful to the spirit; as he was deceived by a
counterfeit coin, and, while he paid respect to the image of the true king
upon it, was not sufficiently alive to the question whether it was rightly cut
and stamped. But the last duty of this "good money-changer," which, as we
mentioned before, concerns the examination of the weight, will be fulfilled,
if whenever our thoughts suggest that anything is to be done, we scrupulously
think it over, and, laying it in the scales of our breast, weigh it with the
most exact balance, whether it be full of good for all, or heavy with the fear
of God: or entire and sound in meaning; or whether it be light with human
display or some conceit of novelty, or whether the pride of foolish vain glory
has not diminished or lessened the weight of its merit. And so straightway
weighing them in the public balance, i.e., testing them by the acts and proofs
of the Apostles and Prophets let us hold them as it were entire and perfect
and of full weight, or else with all care and diligence reject them as
imperfect and counterfeit, and of insufficient weight.
CHAPTER XXII.
Of the fourfold method of discrimination.
THIS power of discriminating will then be necessary for us in the fourfold
manner of which we have spoken; viz., first that the material does not escape
our notice whether it be of true or of painted gold: secondly, that those
thoughts which falsely promise works of religion should be rejected by us as
forged and counterfeit coins, as they are those which are not rightly stamped,
and which bear an untrue image of the king; and that we may be able in the
same way to detect those which in the case of the precious gold of Scripture,
by means of a false and heretical meaning, show the image not of the true king
but of an usurper; and that we refuse those whose weight and value the rust of
vanity has depreciated and not allowed to pass in the scales of the fathers,
as coins that are too light, and are false and weigh too little; so that we
may not incur that which we are warned by the Lord's command to avoid with all
our power, and lose the value and reward of all our labour. "Lay not up for
yourselves treasures on the earth, where rust and moth corrupt and where
thieves break through and steal."(3) For whenever we do anything with a view
to human glory we know that we are, as the Lord says, laying up for ourselves
treasure on earth, and that consequently being as it were hidden in the ground
and buried in the earth it must be destroyed by sundry demons or consumed by
the biting rust of vain glory, or devoured by the moths of pride so as to
contribute nothing to the use and profits of the man who has hidden it. We
should then constantly search all the inner chambers of our hearts, and trace
out the footsteps of whatever enters into them with the closest investigation
lest haply some beast, if I may say so, relating to the understanding, either
lion or dragon, passing through has furtively left the dangerous marks of his
track, which will show to others the way of access into the secret recesses of
the heart, owing to a carelessness about our thoughts. And so daily and hourly
turning up the ground of our heart with the gospel plough, i.e., the constant
recollection of the Lord's cross, we shall manage to stamp out or extirpate
from our hearts the lairs of noxious beasts and the lurking places of
poisonous serpents.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Of the discourse of the teacher in regard to the merits of his
AT this the old man seeing that we were astonished, and inflamed at the
words of his discourse with an insatiable desire, stopped
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his speech for a little in consequence of our admiration and earnestness, and
presently added: Since your zeal, my sons, has led to so long a discussion,
and a sort of fire supplies keener zest to our conference in proportion to
your earnestness, as from this very thing I can clearly see that you are truly
thirsting after teaching about perfection, I want still to say something to
you on the excellence of discrimination and grace which rules and holds the
field among all virtues, and not merely to prove its value and usefulness by
daily instances of it, but also from former deliberations and opinions of the
fathers. For I remember that frequently when men were asking me with sighs and
tears for a discourse of this kind, and I myself was anxious to give them some
teaching I could not possibly manage it, and not merely my thoughts but even
my very power of speech failed me so that I could not find how to send them
away with even some slight consolation. And by these signs we clearly see that
the grace of the Lord inspires the speakers with words according to the
deserts and zeal of the hearers. And because the very short night which is
before us does not allow me to finish the discourse, let us the rather give it
up to bodily rest, in which the whole of it will have to be spent, if a
reasonable portion is refused, and let us reserve the complete scheme of the
discourse for unbroken consideration on a future day or night. For it is right
for the best counsellors on discretion to show the diligence of their minds in
the first place in this, and to prove whether they are or can be possessors of
it by this evidence and patience, so that in treating of that virtue which is
the mother of moderation they may by no means fall into the vice which is
opposite to it; viz., that of undue length, by their actions and deeds
destroying the force of the system and nature which they recommend in word. In
regard then to this most excellent discretion, on which we still propose to
inquire, so far as the Lord gives us power, it may in the first instance be a
good thing, when we are disputing about its excellence and the moderation
which we knew exists in it as the first of virtues, not to allow ourselves to
exceed the due limit of the discussion and of our time.
And so with this the blessed Moses put a stop to our talk, and urged us,
eager though we were and hanging on his lips, to go off to bed for a little,
advising us to lie down on the same mats on which we were sitting, and to put
our bundles(1) under our heads instead of pillows, as these being tied evenly
to thicker leaves of papyrus collected in long and slender bundles, six feet
apart, at one time provide the brethren when sitting at service with a very
low seat instead of a footstool, at another time being put under their necks
when they go to bed furnish a support for their heads, that is not too hard,
but comfortable and just right. For which uses of the monks these things are
considered especially fit and suitable not only because they are somewhat
soft, and prepared at little cost of money and labour, as the papyrus grows
everywhere along the banks of the Nile, but also because they are of a
convenient stuff and light enough to be removed or fetched as need may
require. And so at last at the bidding of the old man we settled ourselves
down to sleep in deep stillness, both excited with delight at the conference
we had held, and also buoyed up with hope of the promised discussion.
CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.
SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.
CHAPTER I.
Abbot Moses' introduction on the grace of discretion.
AND so when we had enjoyed our morning sleep, when to our delight the dawn
of light again shone upon us, and we had begun to ask once more for his
promised talk, the blessed Moses thus began: As I see you inflamed with such
an eager desire, that I do not believe that that very short interval of quiet
which I wanted to subtract from our spiritual conference and devote to bodily
rest, has been of any use for the repose of your bodies, on me too a greater
anxiety presses when I take note of your zeal. For I must give the greater
care and devotion in paying my debt, in pro portion as I see that you ask for
it the more earnestly, according to that saying: "When thou sittest to eat
with a ruler consider diligently what is put before thee, and put forth thine
hand, knowing that thou oughtest to prepare such things."(2) Wherefore as we
are going
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to speak of the excellent quality of discretion and the virtue of it, on which
subject our discourse of last night had entered at the termination of our
discussion, we think it desirable first to establish its excellence by the
opinions of the fathers, that when it has been shown what our predecessors
thought and said about it, then we may bring forward some ancient and modern
shipwrecks and mischances of various people, who were destroyed and hopelessly
ruined because they paid but little attention to it, and then as well as we
can we must treat of its advantages and uses: after a discussion of which we
shall know better how we ought to seek after it and practise it, by the
consideration of the importance of its value and grace. For it is no ordinary
virtue nor one which can be freely gained by merely human efforts, unless they
are aided by the Divine blessing, for we read that this is also reckoned among
the noblest gifts of the Spirit by the Apostle: "To one is given by the Spirit
the word of wisdom, to another the word of knowledge by the same Spirit, to
another faith by the same Spirit, to another the gift of healing by the same
Spirit," and shortly after, "to another the discerning of spirits." Then after
the complete catalogue of spiritual gifts he subjoins: "But all these worketh
one and the selfsame Spirit, dividing to every man severally as He will."(1)
You see then that the gift of discretion is no earthly thing and no slight
matter, but the greatest prize of divine grace. And unless a monk has pursued
it with all zeal, and secured a power of discerning with unerring judgment the
spirits that rise up in him, he is sure to go wrong, as if in the darkness of
night and dense blackness, and not merely to fall down dangerous pits and
precipices, but also to make frequent mistakes in matters that are plain and
straightforward.
CHAPTER II.
What discretion alone can give a monk; and a discourse of the
blessed Antony on this subject.
AND so I remember that while I was still a boy, in the region of Thebaid,
where the blessed Antony lived, (2) the elders came to him to inquire about
perfection: and though the conference lasted from evening till morning, the
greatest part of the night was taken up with this question. For it was
discussed at great length what virtue or observance could preserve a monk
always unharmed by the snares and deceits of the devil, and carry him forward
on a sure and right path, and with firm step to the heights of perfection. And
when each one gave his opinion according to the bent of his own mind, and some
made it consist in zeal in fasting and vigils, because a soul that has been
brought low by these, and so obtained purity of heart and body will be the
more easily united to God, others in despising all things, as, if the mind
were utterly deprived of them, it would come the more freely to God, as if
henceforth there were no snares to entangle it: others thought that withdrawal
from the world was the thing needful, i.e., solitude and the secrecy of the
hermit's life; living in which a man may more readily commune with God, and
cling more especially to Him; others laid down that the duties of charity,
i.e., of kindness should be practised, because the Lord in the gospel promised
more especially to give the kingdom to these; when He said "Come ye blessed of
My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the
world. For I was an hungred and ye gave Me to eat, I was thirsty and ye gave
Me to drink, etc.:" (8) and when in this fashion they declared that by means
of different virtues a more certain approach to God could be secured, and the
greater part of the night had been spent in this discussion, then at last the
blessed Antony spoke and said: All these things which you have mentioned are
indeed needful, and helpful to those who are thirsting for God, and desirous
to approach Him. But countless accidents and the experience of many people
will not allow us to make the most important of gifts consist in them. For
often when men are most strict in fasting or in vigils, and nobly withdraw
into solitude, and aim at depriving themselves of all their goods so
absolutely that they do not suffer even a day's allowance of food or a single
penny to remain to them, and when they fulfil all the duties of kindness with
the utmost devotion, yet still we have seen them suddenly deceived, so that
they could not bring the work they had entered upon to a suitable close, but
brought their exalted fervour and praiseworthy manner of life to a terrible
end. Wherefore we shall be able clearly to recognize what it is which mainly
leads to God, if we trace out with greater care the reason of their downfall
and deception. For when the works of the above mentioned virtues were
abounding in them, discretion alone was wanting, and allowed them not to
continue even to the end. Nor can any other reason for their falling off be
discovered except that
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as they were not sufficiently instructed by their elders they could not obtain
judgment and discretion, which passing by excess on either side, teaches a
monk always to walk along the royal road, and does not suffer him to be puffed
up on the right hand of virtue, i.e., from excess of zeal to transgress the
bounds of due moderation in foolish presumption, nor allows him to be
enamoured of slackness and turn aside to the vices on the left hand, i.e.,
under pretext of controlling the body, to grow slack with the opposite spirit
of luke-warmness. For this is discretion, which is termed in the gospel the
"eye," "and light of the body," according to the Saviour's saying: "The light
of thy body is thine eye: but if thine eye be single, thy whole body will be
full of light, but if thine eye be evil, thy whole body will be full of
darkness:"(1) because as it discerns all the thoughts and actions of men, it
sees and overlooks all things which should be done. But if in any man this is
"evil," i.e., not fortified by sound judgment and knowledge, or deceived by
some error and presumption, it will mike our whole body "full of darkness,"
i.e., it will darken all our mental vision and our actions, as they will be
involved in the darkness of vices and the gloom of disturbances. For, says He,
"if the light which is in thee be darkness, how great will that darkness
be!"(2) For no one can doubt that when the judgment of our heart goes wrong,
and is overwhelmed by the night of ignorance, our thoughts and deeds, which
are the result of deliberation and discretion, must be involved in the
darkness of still greater sins.
CHAPTER III.
Of the error of Saul and of Ahab, by which they were deceived
through Jack of discretion.
LASTLY, the man who in the judgment of God was the first to be worthy of
the kingdom of His people Israel, because he was lacking in this "eye" of
discretion, was, as if his whole body were full of darkness, actually cast
down from the kingdom while, being deceived by the darkness of this "light,"
and in error, he imagined that his own offerings were more acceptable to God
than obedience to the command of Samuel, and met with an occasion of falling
in that very matter in which he had hoped to propitiate the Divine Majesty.(3)
And ignorance, I say, of this discretion led Ahab the king of Israel after a
triumph and splendid victory which had been granted to him by the favour of
God to fancy that mercy on his part was better than the stem execution of the
divine command, and, as it seemed to him, a cruel rule: and moved by this
consideration, while he desired to temper a bloody victory with mercy, he was
on account of his indiscriminating clemency rendered full of darkness in his
whole body, and condemned irreversibly to death.(4)
CHAPTER. IV.
What is said of the value of discretion in Holy Scripture.
SUCH is discretion, which is not only the "light of the body," but also
called the sun by the Apostle, as it said "Let not the sun go down upon your
wrath."(5) It is also called the guidance of our life: as it said "Those who
have no guidance, fall like leaves."(6) It is most truly named counsel,
without which the authority of Scripture allows us to do nothing, so that we
are not even permitted to take that spiritual "wine which maketh glad the
heart of man"(7) without its regulating control: as it is said "Do everything
with counsel, drink thy wine with counsel,"(8) and again "like a city that has
its walls destroyed and is not fenced in, so is a man who does anything
without counsel."(9) And how injurious the absence of this is to a monk, the
illustration and figure in the passage quoted shows, by comparing it to a city
that is destroyed and without walls. Heroin lies wisdom, herein lies
intelligence and understanding without which our inward house cannot be built,
nor can spiritual riches be gathered together, as it is said: "A house is
built with wisdom, and again it is set up with intelligence. With
understanding the storehouses are filled with all precious riches and good
things."(10) This I say is "solid food," which can only be taken by those who
are full grown and strong, as it is said: "But solid food is for full grown
men, who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern good and
evil."(11) And it is shown to be useful and necessary for us, only in so far
as it is in accordance with the word of God and its powers, as is said "For
the word of God is quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword,
and reaching even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, of both joints
and marrow, and a dis-
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cerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart:"(1) and by this it is clearly
shown that no virtue can possibly be perfectly acquired or continue without
the grace of discretion. And so by the judgment of the blessed Antony as well
as of all others it has been laid down that it is discretion which leads a
fearless monk by fixed stages to God, and preserves the virtues mentioned
above continually intact, by means of which one may ascend with less weariness
to the extreme summit of perfection, and without which even those who toil
most willingly cannot reach the heights of perfection. For discretion is the
mother of all virtues, as well as their guardian and regulator.
CHAPTER V.
Of the death of the old man Heron.
AND to support this judgment delivered of old by the blessed Antony and
the other fathers by a modern instance, as we promised to do, remember what
you lately saw happen before your very eyes, I mean, how the old man Heron,(2)
only a very few days ago was cast down by an illusion of the devil from the
heights to the depths, a man whom we remember to have lived for fifty years in
this desert and to have preserved a strict continence with especial severity,
and who aimed at the secrecy of solitude with marvellous fervour beyond all
those who dwell here. By what device then or by what method was he deluded by
the deceiver after so many labours, and falling by a most grievous downfall
struck with profound grief all those who live in this desert? Was it not
because, having too little of the virtue of discretion he preferred to be
guided by his own judgment rather than to obey the counsels and conference of
the brethren and the regulations of the elders? Since he ever practised
incessant abstinence and fasting with such severity, and persisted in the
secrecy of solitude and a monastic cell so constantly that not even the
observance of the Easter festival could ever persuade him to join in the feast
with the brethren: when in accordance with the annual observance, all the
brethren remained in the church and he alone would not join them for fear lest
he might seem to relax in some degree from his purpose by taking only a little
pulse. And deceived by this presumption he received with the utmost reverence
an angel of Satan as an angel of light and with blind slavishness obeyed his
commands and cast himself down a well, so deep that the eye could not pierce
its depths, nothing doubting of the promise of the angel who had assured him
that the merits of his virtues and labours were such that he could not
possibly run any risk. And that he might prove the truth of this most
certainly by experimenting on his own safety, in the dead of night he was
deluded enough to cast himself into the above mentioned well, to prove indeed
the great merit of his virtue if he should come out thence unhurt. And when by
great efforts on the part of the brethren he had been got out already almost
dead, on the third day afterward he expired, and what was still worse,
persisted in his obstinate delusion so that not even the experience of his
death could persuade him that he had been deceived by the craft of devils.
Wherefore in spite of the merits of his great labours and the number of years
which he had spent in the desert those who with compassion and the greatest
kindness pitied his end, could hardly obtain from Abbot Paphnutius(3) that he
should not be reckoned among suicides, and be deemed unworthy of the memorial
and oblation for those at rest.(4)
CHAPTER VI.
Of the destruction of two brethren for lack of discretion.
WHAT shall I say of those two brethren who lived beyond that desert of the
Thebaiid where once the blessed Antony dwelt, and, not being sufficiently
influenced by careful discrimination, when they were going through the vast
and extended waste determined not to take any food with them, except such as
the Lord Himself might provide for them. And when as they wandered through the
deserts and were already fainting from hunger they were spied at a distance by
the Mazices(5) (a race which is even more savage and ferocious than almost all
wild tribes, for they are not driven to shed blood, as other tribes are, from
desire of spoil but from simple ferocity of mind), and when these acting
contrary to their natural ferocity, met them with bread, one of the two as
discretion came to his aid, received it with delight and thankfulness as if it
were offered to him by the Lord, thinking that the food
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had been divinely provided for him, and that it was God's doing that those who
always delighted in bloodshed had offered the staff of life to men who were
already fainting and dying; but the other refused the food because it was
offered to him by men and died of starvation. And though this sprang in the
first instance from a persuasion that was blame-worthy yet one of them by the
help of discretion got the better of the idea which he had rashly and
carelessly conceived, but the other persisting in his obstinate folly, and
being utterly lacking in discretion, brought upon himself that death which the
Lord would have averted, as he would not believe that it was owing to a Divine
impulse that the fierce barbarians forgot their natural ferocity and offered
them bread instead of a sword.
CHAPTER VII.
Of an illusion into which another fell for lack of discretion.
WHY also should I speak of one (whose name we had rather not mention as he
is still alive), who for a long while received a devil in the brightness of an
angelic form, and was often deceived by countless revelations from him and
believed that he was a messenger of righteousness: for when these were
granted, every night he provided a light in his cell without the need of any
lamp. At last he was ordered by the devil to offer up to God his own son who
was living with him in the monastery, in order that his merits might by this
sacrifice be made equal to those of the patriarch Abraham. And he was so far
seduced by his persuasion that he would really have committed the murder
unless his son had seen him getting ready the knife and sharpening it with
unusual care, and looking for the chains with which he meant to tie him up for
the sacrifice when he was going to offer him up; and had fled away in terror
with a presentiment of the coming crime.
CHAPTER VIII.
Of the fall and deception of a monk of Mesopotamia.
IT is a long business too to tell the story of the deception of that monk
of Mesopotamia, who observed an abstinence that could be imitated by but few
in that country, which he had practised for many years concealed in his cell,
and at last was so deceived by revelations and dreams that came from the devil
that after so many labours and good deeds, in which he had surpassed all those
who dwelt in the same parts, he actually relapsed miserably into Judaism and
circumcision of the flesh. For when the devil by accustoming him to visions
through the wish to entice him to believe a falsehood in the end, had like a
messenger of truth revealed to him for a long while what was perfectly true,
at length he showed him Christian folk together with the leaders of our
religion and creed; viz. Apostles and Martyrs, in darkness and filth, and foul
and disfigured with all squalor, and on the other hand the Jewish people with
Moses, the patriarchs and prophets, dancing with all joy and shining with
dazzling light; and so persuaded him that if he wanted to share their reward
and bliss, he must at once submit to circumcision. And so none of these would
have been so miserably deceived, if they had endeavoured to obtain a power of
discretion. Thus the mischances and trials of many show how dangerous it is to
be without the grace of discretion.
CHAPTER IX.
A question about the acquirement of true discretion.
To this Germanus: It has been fully and completely shown both by recent
instances and by the decisions of the ancients how discretion is in some sense
the fountain head and the root of all virtues. We want then to learn how it
ought to be gained, or how we can tell whether it is genuine and from God, or
whether it is spurious and from the devil: so that (to use the figure of that
gospel parable which you discussed on a former occasion, in which we are
bidden to become good money changers(1)) we may be able to see the figure of
the true king stamped on the coin and to detect what is not stamped on coin
that is current, and that, as you said in yesterday's talk using an ordinary
expression, we may reject it as counterfeit, under the teaching of that skill
which you treated of with sufficient fulness and detail, and showed ought to
belong to the man who is spiritually a good money changer of the gospel. For
of what good will it be to have recognized the value of that virtue and grace
if we do not know how to seek for it and to gain it?
CHAPTER X.
The answer how true discretion may be gained.
THEN MOSES: True discretion, said he, is only secured by true humility.
And of this
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humility the first proof is given by reserving everything (not only what you
do but also what you think), for the scrutiny of the elders, so as not to
trust at all in your own judgment but to acquiesce in their decisions in all
points, and to acknowledge what ought to be considered good or bad by their
traditions.(1) And this habit will not only teach a young man to walk in the
right path through the true way of discretion, but will also keep him unhurt
by all the crafts and deceits of the enemy. For a man cannot possibly be
deceived, who lives not by his own judgment but according to the example of
the elders, nor will our crafty foe be able to abuse the ignorance of one who
is not accustomed from false modesty to conceal all the thoughts which rise in
his heart, but either checks them or suffers them to remain, in accordance
with the ripened judgment of the elders. For a wrong thought is enfeebled at
the moment that it is discovered: and even before the sentence of discretion
has been given, the foul serpent is by the power of confession dragged out, so
to speak, from his dark under-ground cavern, and in some sense shown up. and
sent away in disgrace. For evil thoughts will hold sway in us just so long as
they are hidden in the heart: and that you may gather still more effectually
the power of this judgment I will tell you what Abbot Serapion did,(2) and
what he used often to tell to the younger brethren for their edification.
CHAPTER XI.
The words of Abbot Serapion on the decline of thoughts that are exposed to
others, and also on the danger of self-confidence.
WHILE, said he, I was still a lad, and stopping with Abbot Theonas,(3)
this habit was forced upon me by the assaults of the enemy, that after I had
supped with the old man at the ninth hour, I used every day secretly to hide a
biscuit in my dress, which I would eat on the sly later on without his knowing
it. And though I was constantly guilty of the theft with the consent of my
will, and the want of restraint that springs from desire that has grown
inveterate, yet when my unlawful desire was gratified I would come to myself
and torment myself over the theft committed in a way that overbalanced the
pleasure I had enjoyed in the eating. And when I was forced not without grief
of heart to fulfil day after day this most heavy task required of me, so to
speak, by Pharaoh's taskmasters, instead of bricks, and could not escape from
this cruel tyranny, and yet was ashamed to disclose the secret theft to the
old man, it chanced by the will of God that I was delivered from the yoke of
this voluntary captivity, when certain brethren had sought the old man's cell
with the object of being instructed by him. And when after supper the
spiritual conference had begun to be held, and the old man in answer to the
questions which they had propounded was speaking about the sin of gluttony and
the dominion of secret thoughts, and showing their nature and the awful power
which they have so long as they are kept secret, I was overcome by the power
of the discourse and was conscience stricken and terrified, as I thought that
these things were mentioned by him because the Lord had revealed to the old
man my bosom secrets; and first I was moved to secret sighs, and then my
heart's compunction increased and I openly burst into sobs and tears, and
produced from the folds of my dress which shared my theft and received it, the
biscuit which I had carried off in my bad habit to eat on the sly; and I laid
it in the midst and lying on the ground an begging for forgiveness confessed
how I used to eat one every day in secret, and with copious tears implored
them to intreat the Lord to free me from this dreadful slavery. Then the old
man: "Have faith, my child," said he, "Without any words of mine, your
confession frees you from this slavery. For you have today triumphed over your
victorious adversary, by laying him low by your confession in a manner which
more than makes up for the way in which you were overthrown by him through
your former silence, as when, never confuting him with your own answer or that
of another, you had allowed him to lord it over you, according to that saying
of Solomon's: 'Because sentence is not speedily pronounced against the evil,
the heart of the children of men is full within them to do evil:' (4) and
therefore after this exposure of him that evil spirit will no longer be able
to vex you, nor will that foul serpent henceforth make his lurking place in
you, as he has been dragged out into light from the darkness by your
life-giving confession." The old man had not finished speaking when lo! a
burning lamp proceeding from the folds of my dress filled the cell with a
sulphureous smell so that the pungency of the odour scarcely allowed us to
stay there: and the old man resuming his admonition said Lo! the Lord
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has visibly confirmed to you the truth of my words, so that you can see with
your eyes how he who was the author of His Passion has been driven out from
your heart by your life-giving confession, and know that the enemy who has
been exposed will certainly no longer find a home in you, as his expulsion is
made manifest. And so, as the old man declared, said he, the sway of that
diabolical tyranny over me has been destroyed by the power of this confession
and stilled for ever so that the enemy has never even tried to force upon me
any more the recollection of this desire, nor have I ever felt myself seized
with the passion of that furtive longing. And this meaning we see is neatly
expressed in a figure in Ecclesiastes. "If" says he "a serpent bite without
hissing there is no sufficiency for the charmer,"(1) showing that the bite of
a serpent in silence is dangerous, i.e., if a suggestion or thought springing
from the devil is not by means of confession shown to some charmer, I mean
some spiritually minded person who knows how to heal the wound at once by
charms from the Scripture, and to extract the deadly poison of the serpent
from the heart, it will be impossible to help the sufferer who is already in
danger and must soon die. In this way therefore we shall easily arrive at the
knowledge of true discretion, so as by following the steps of the Elders never
to do anything novel nor to decide anything by or on our own responsibility,
but to walk in all things as we are taught by their tradition and upright
life. And the man who is strengthened by this system will not only arrive at
the perfect method of discretion, but also will remain perfectly safe from all
the wiles of the enemy: for by no other fault does the devil drag down a monk
so precipitately and lead him away to death, as when he persuades him to
despise the counsel of the Elders and to rely on his own opinion and judgment:
for if all the arts and contrivances discovered by man's ingenuity and those
which are only useful for the conveniences of this temporary life, though they
can be felt with the hand and seen with the eye, can yet not be understood by
anyone, without lessons from a teacher, how foolish it is to fancy that there
is no need of an instructor in this one alone which is invisible and secret
and can only be seen by the purest heart, a mistake in which brings about no
mere temporary loss or one that can easily be repaired, but the destruction of
the soul and everlasting death: for it is concerned with a daily and nightly
conflict against no visible foes, but invisible and cruel ones, and a
spiritual combat not against one or two only, but against countless hosts,
failure in which is the more dangerous to all, in proportion as the foe is the
fiercer and the attack the more secret. And therefore we should always follow
the footsteps of the Elders with the utmost care, and bring to them everything
which rises in our hearts, by removing the veil of shame.
CHAPTER XII.
A confession of the modesty which made us ashamed to reveal
our thoughts to the elders.
GERMANUS: The ground of that hurtful modesty, through which we endeavour
to hide bad thoughts, is especially owing to this reason; viz., that we have
heard of a superior of the Elders in the region of Syria, as it was believed,
who, when one of the brethren had laid bare his thoughts to him in a genuine
confession, was afterwards extremely indignant and severely chid him for them.
Whence it results that while we press them upon our selves and are ashamed to
make them known to the Elders, we cannot obtain the remedies that would heal
them.
CHAPTER XIII.
The answer concerning the trampling down of shame, and the
danger of one without contrition.
MOSES: Just as all young men are not alike in fervour of spirit nor
equally instructed in learning and good morals, so too we cannot find that all
old men are equally perfect and excellent. For the true riches of old men are
not to be measured by grey hairs but by their diligence in youth and the
rewards of their past labours. "For," says one, "the things that thou hast not
gathered in thy youth, how shall thou find them in thy old age?" "For
venerable old age is not that of long time, nor counted by the number of
years: but the understanding of a man is grey hairs, and a spotless life is
old age."(2) And therefore we are not to follow in the steps or embrace the
traditions and advice of every old man whose head is covered with grey hairs,
and whose age is his sole claim to respect, but only of those whom we find to
have distinguished themselves in youth in an approved and praiseworthy manner,
and to have been trained up not on self-assurance but on the traditions of the
Elders. For there are some,
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and unhappily they form the majority, who pass their old age in a lukewarmness
which they contracted in youth, and in sloth, and so obtain authority not from
the ripeness of their character but simply from the number of their years.
Against whom that reproof of the Lord is specially aimed by the prophet:
"Strangers have devoured his strength and he knew it not: yea, grey hairs also
are spread about upon him, and he is ignorant of it."(1) These men, I say, are
not pointed out as examples to youth from the uprightness of their lives, nor
from the strictness of their profession, which would be worthy of praise and
imitation, but simply from the number of their years; and so the subtle enemy
uses their grey hairs to deceive the younger men, by a wrongful appeal to
their authority, and endeavours in his cunning craftiness to upset and deceive
by their example those who might have been urged into the way of perfection by
their advice or that of others; and drags them down by means of their teaching
and practice either into a baneful indifference, or into deadly despair. And
as I want to give you an instance of this, I will tell you a fact which may
supply us with some wholesome teaching, without giving the name of the actor,
lest we might be guilty of something of the same kind as the man who published
abroad the sins of the brother which had been disclosed to him. When this one,
who was not the laziest of young men, had gone to an old man, whom we know
very well, for the sake of the profit and health of his soul, and had candidly
confessed that he was troubled by carnal appetites and the spirit of
fornication, fancying that he would receive from the old man's words
consolation for his efforts, and a cure for the wounds inflicted on him, the
old man attacked him with the bitterest reproaches, and called him a miserable
and disgraceful creature, and unworthy of the name of monk, while he could be
affected by a sin and lust of this character, and instead of helping him so
injured him by his reproaches that he dismissed him from his cell in a state
of hopeless despair and deadly despondency. And when he, oppressed with such a
sorrow, was plunged in deep thought, no longer how to cure his passion, but
how to gratify his lust, the Abbot Apollos,(2) the most skilful of the EIders,
met him, and seeing by his looks and gloominess his trouble and the violence
of the assault which he was secretly revolving in his heart, asked him the
reason of this upset; and when he could not possibly answer the old man's
gentle inquiry, the latter perceived more and more clearly that it was not
without reason that he wanted to hide in silence the cause of a gloom so deep
that he could not conceal it by his looks, and so began to ask him still more
earnestly the reasons for his hidden grief. And by this he was forced to
confess that he was on his way to a village to take a wife, and leave the
monastery and return to the world, since, as the old man had told him, he
could not be a monk, if he was unable to control the desires of the flesh and
to cure his passion. And then the old man smoothed him down with kindly
consolation, and told him that he himself was daily tried by the same pricks
of desire and lust, and that therefore he ought not to give way to despair,
nor be surprised at the violence of the attack of which he would get the
better not so much by zealous efforts, as by the mercy and grace of the Lord;
and he begged him to put off his intention just for one day, and having
implored him to return to his cell, went as fast as he could to the monastery
of the above mentioned old man--and when he had drawn near to him he stretched
forth his hands and prayed with tears, and said "O Lord, who alone art the
righteous judge and unseen Physician of secret strength and human weakness,
turn the assault from the young man upon the old one, that he may learn to
condescend to the weakness of sufferers, and to sympathize even in old age
with the frailties of youth." And when he had ended his prayer with tears, he
sees a filthy Ethiopian standing over against his cell and aiming fiery darts
at him, with which he was straightway wounded, and came out of his cell and
ran about hither and thither like a lunatic or a drunken man, and going in and
out could no longer restrain himself in it, but began to hurry off in the same
direction in which the young man had gone. And when Abbot Apollos saw him like
a madman driven wild by the furies, he knew that the fiery dart of the devil
which he had seen, had been fixed in his heart, and had by its intolerable
heat wrought in him this mental aberration and confusion of the understanding;
and so he came up to him and asked "Whither are you hurrying, or what has made
you forget the gravity of years and disturbed you in this childish way, and
made you hurry about so rapidly"? And when he owing to his guilty conscience
and confused by this disgraceful excitement fancied that the lust of his heart
was discovered, and, as
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the secrets of his heart were known to the old man, did not venture to return
any answer to his inquiries, "Return," said he, "to your cell, and at last
recognize the fact that till now you have been ignored or despised by the
devil, and not counted in the number of those with whom he is daily roused to
fight and struggle against their efforts and earnestness,--you who could
not--I will not say ward off, but not even postpone for one day, a single dart
of his aimed at you after so many years spent in this profession of yours. And
with this the Lord has suffered you to be wounded that you may at least learn
in your old age to sympathize with infirmities to which you are a stranger,
and may know from your own case and experience how to condescend to the
frailties of the young, though when you received a young man troubled by an
attack from the devil, you did not encourage him with any consolation, but
gave him up in dejection and destructive despair into the hands of the enemy,
to be, as far as you were concerned, miserably destroyed by him. But the enemy
would certainly never have attacked him with so fierce an onslaught, with
which he has up till now scorned to attack you, unless in his jealousy at the
progress he was to make, he had endeavoured to get the better of that virtue
which he saw lay in his disposition, and to destroy it with his fiery darts,
as he knew without the shadow of a doubt that he was the stronger, since he
deemed t worth his while to attack him with such vehemence. And so learn from
your own experience to sympathize with those in trouble, and never to terrify
with destructive despair those who are in danger, nor harden them with severe
speeches, but rather restore them with gentle and kindly consolations, and as
the wise Solomon says, "Spare not to deliver those who are led forth to death,
and to redeem those who are to be slain,"(1) and after the example of our
Saviour, break not the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax,(2) and ask
of the Lord that grace, by means of which you yourself may faithfully learn
both in deed and power to sing: "the Lord hath given me a learned tongue that
I should know how to uphold by word him that is weary:"(3) for no one could
bear the devices of the enemy, or extinguish or repress those carnal fires
which burn with a sort of natural flame, unless God's grace assisted our
weakness, or protected and supported it. And therefore, as the reason for this
salutary incident is over, by which the Lord meant to set that young man free
from dangerous desires and to teach you something of the violence of their
attack, and of the feeling of compassion, let us together implore Him in
prayer, that He may be pleased to remove that scourge, which the Lord thought
good to lay upon you for your good (for "He maketh sorry and cureth: he
striketh and his hands heal. He humbleth and exalteth, he killeth and maketh
alive: he bringeth down to the grave and bringeth up")(4), and may extinguish
with the abundant dew of His Spirit the fiery darts of the devil, which at my
desire He allowed to wound you. And although the Lord removed this temptation
at a single prayer of the old man with the same speed with which He had
suffered it to come upon him, yet He showed by a clear proof that a man's
faults when laid bare were not merely not to be scolded, but that the grief of
one in trouble ought not to be lightly despised. And therefore never let the
clumsiness or shallowness of one old man or of a few deter you and keep you
back from that life-giving way, of which we spoke earlier, or from the
tradition of the Elders, if our crafty enemy makes a wrongful use of their
grey hairs in order to deceive younger men: but without any cloak of shame
everything should be disclosed to the Elders, and remedies for wounds be
faithfully received from them together with examples of life and conversation:
from which we shall find like help and the same sort of result, if we try to
do nothing at all on our own responsibility and judgment.
CHAPTER XIV.
Of the call of Samuel.
LASTLY SO far has this opinion been shown to be pleasing to God that we
see that this system not without reason finds a place in holy Scripture, so
that the Lord would not of Himself instruct by the method of a Divine colloquy
the lad Samuel, when chosen for judgment, but suffered him to run once or
twice to the old man, and willed that one whom He was calling to converse with
Him should be taught even by one who had offended God, as he was an old man,
and preferred that he whom He had deemed worthy to be called by Him should be
trained by the Elder in order to test the humility of him who was called to a
Divine office, and to set an example to the younger men by the manner of his
subjection.
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CHAPTER XV.
Of the call of the Apostle Paul.
AND when Christ in His own Person called and addressed Paul, although He
might have opened out to him at once the way of perfection, yet He chose
rather to direct him to Ananias and commanded him to learn the way of truth
from him, saying: "Arise and go into the city and there it shall be told thee
what thou oughtest to do."(1) So He sends him to an older man, and thinks good
to have him instructed by his teaching rather than His own, lest what might
have been rightly done in the case of Paul might set a bad example of
self-sufficiency, if each one were to persuade himself that he also ought in
like manner to be trained by the government and teaching of God alone rather
than by the instruction of the Elders. And this self-sufficiency the apostle
himself teaches, not only by his letters but by his acts and deeds, ought to
be shunned with all possible care, as he says that he went up to Jerusalem
solely for this reason; viz., to communicate in a private and informal
conference with his co-apostles and those who were before him that Gospel
which he preached to the Gentiles, the grace of the Holy Spirit accompanying
him with powerful signs and wonders: as he says "And I communicated with them
the Gospel which I preach among the Gentiles lest perhaps I had run or should
run in vain."(2) Who then is so self-sufficient and blind as to dare to trust
in his own judgment and discretion when the chosen vessel confesses that he
had need of conference with his fellow apostles. Whence we clearly see that
the Lord does not Himself show the way of perfection to anyone who having the
opportunity of learning depises the teaching and training of the Elders,
paying no heed to that saying which ought most carefully to be observed: "Ask
thy father and he will show it to thee: thine Elders and they will tell thee.
"(3)
CHAPTER XVI.
How to seek for discretion.
We ought then with all our might to strive for the virtue of discretion by
the power of humility, as it will keep us uninjured by either extreme, for
there is an old saying akrothes isothtes, i.e.,
extremes meet. For excess of fasting and gluttony come to the same thing, and
an unlimited continuance of vigils is equally injurious to a monk as the
torpor of a deep sleep: for when a man is weakened by excessive abstinence he
is sure to return to that condition in which a man is kept through
carelessness and negligence, so that we have often seen those who could not be
deceived by gluttony, destroyed by excessive fasting and by reason of weakness
liable to that passion which they had before overcome. Unreasonable vigils and
nightly watchings have also been the ruin of some whom sleep could not get the
better of: wherefore as the apostle says "with the arms of righteousness on
the right hand and on the left,"(4) we pass on with due moderation, and walk
between the two extremes, under the guidance of discretion, that we may not
consent to be led away from the path of continence marked out for us, nor fall
by undue carelessness into the pleasures of the palate and belly.
CHAPTER XVII.
On excessive fasts and vigils.
FOR I remember that I had so often resisted the desire for food, that
having abstained from taking any for two or three days, my mind was not
troubled even by the recollection of any eatables and also that sleep was by
the assaults of the devil so far removed from my eyes, that for several days
and nights I used to pray the Lord to grant a little sleep to my eyes; and
then I felt that I was in greater peril from the want of food and sleep than
from struggling against sloth and gluttony. And so as we ought to be careful
not to fall into dangerous effeminacy through desire for bodily gratification,
nor indulge ourselves with eating before the right time nor take too much, so
also we ought to refresh ourselves with food and sleep at the proper time even
if we dislike it. For the struggle in each case is caused by the devices of
the enemy; and excessive abstinence is still more injurious to us than
careless satiety: for from this latter the intervention of a healthy
compunction will raise us to the right measure of strictness, and not from the
former.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A question on the right measure of abstinence and refreshment.
GERMANUS: What then is the measure of abstinence by keeping which with
even balance we shah succeed in passing unharmed between the two extremes?
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CHAPTER XIX.
Of the best plan for our daily food.
MOSES: On this matter we are aware that there have been frequent
discussions among our Elders. For in discussing the abstinence of some who
supported their lives continually on nothing but beans or only on vegetables
and fruits, they proposed to all of them to partake of bread alone, the right
measure of which they fixed at two biscuits, so small that they assuredly
scarcely weighed a pound.
CHAPTER XX.
An objection on the ease of that abstinence in which a man is
sustained by two biscuits.
AND this we gladly embraced, and answered that we should scarcely consider
this limit as abstinence, as we couId not possibly reach it entirely.
CHAPTER XXI.
The answer concerning the value and measure of well-proved
abstinence.
MOSES: If you want to test the force of this rule, keep to this limit
continually, never departing from it by taking any cooked food even on Sunday
or Saturday, or on the occasions of the arrival of any of the brethren; for
the flesh, refreshed by these exceptions, is able not only to support itself
through the rest of the week on a smaller quantity, but can also postpone all
refreshment without difficulty, as it is sustained by the addition of that
food which it has taken beyond the limit; while the man who has always been
satisfied with the full amount of the above-mentioned measure will never be
able to do this, nor to put off breaking his fast till the morrow. For I
remember that our Elders (and I recollect that we ourselves also often had the
same experience) found it so hard and difficult to practise this abstinence,
and observed the rule laid down with such pain and hunger that it was almost
against their will and with tears and lamentation that they set this limit to
their meals.
CHAPTER XXII.
What is the usual limit both of abstinence and of partaking
food.
BUT this is the usual limit of abstinence; viz., for everyone to allow
himself food according to the requirements of his strength or bodily frame or
age, in such quantity as is required for the support of the flesh, and not for
the satisfactory feeling of repletion. For on both sides a man will suffer the
greatest injury, if having no fixed rule at one time he pinches his stomach
with meagre food and fasts, and at another stuffs it by over-eating himself;
for as the mind which is enfeebled for lack of food loses vigour in praying,
while it is worn out with excessive weakness of the flesh and forced to doze,
so again when weighed down with over-eating it cannot pour forth to God pure
and free prayers: nor will it succeed in preserving uninterruptedly the purity
of its chastity, while even on those days on which it seems to chastise the
flesh with severer abstinence, it feeds the fire of carnal desire with the
fuel of the food that it has already taken.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Quemadmodum abundantia umorum genitalium castigetur.(1)
NAM quod semel per escarum abundantian concretus fuerit in medullis,
necesse est egeri atque ab ipsa naturae lege propelli, quae exuberantiam
cujuslibet umoris superflui velut noxiam sibi atque contrariam in semet ipsa
residere non patitur ideoque rationabili semper et aequali est corpus nostrum
parsimonia castigandum, ut si naturali hac necessitate commorantes in came
omnimodis carere non possumus, saltim rarius nos et non amplius quamtrina vice
ista conluvione respersos totius anni cursus inveniat, quod tureen sine ullo
pruritu quietus egerat sopor, non fallax imago index occultae voluptatis
eliciat.
Wherefore this is the moderate and even allowance and measure of
abstinence, of which we spoke, which has the approval also of the judgment of
the fathers; viz., that daily hunger should go hand in hand with our daily
meals, preserving both body and soul in one and the same condition, and not
allowing the mind either to faint through weariness from fasting, nor to be
oppressed by over-eating, for it ends in such a sparing diet that sometimes a
man neither notices nor remembers in the evening that he has broken his fast.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Of the difficulty of uniformity in eating; and of the gluttony
of brother Benjamin.
AND so far is this not done without difficulty, that those who know
nothing of perfect
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discretion would rather prolong their fasts for two days, and reserve for
tomorrow what they should have eaten today, so that when they come to partake
of food they may enjoy as much as they can desire. And you know that lastly
your fellow citizen Benjamin most obstinately stuck to this: as he would not
every day partake of his two biscuits, nor, continually take his meagre fare
with uniform self-discipline, but preferred always to continue his fasts for
two days that when he came to eat he might fill his greedy stomach with a
double portion, and by eating four biscuits enjoy a comfortable sense of
repletion, and manage to fill his belly by means of a two days' fast. And you
doubtless remember what sort of an end there was to the life of this man who
obstinately and pertinaciously relied on his own judgment rather than on the
traditions of the Elders, for he forsook the desert and returned back to the
vain philosophy of this world and earthly vanities, and so confirmed the above
mentioned opinion of the EIders by the example of his downfall, and by his
destruction teaches a lesson that no one who trusts in his own opinion and
judgment can possibly climb the heights of perfection, nor fail to be deceived
by the dangerous wiles of the devil.
CHAPTER XXV.
A question how is it possible always to observe one and the
same measure.
GERMANUS: How then can we observe this measure without ever breaking it?
for sometimes at the ninth hour when the Station fast(1) is over, brethren
come to see us and then we must either for their sakes add something to our
fixed and customary portion, or certainly fail in that courtesy which we are
told to show to everybody.
CHAPTER XXVI.
The answer how we should not exceed the proper measure of
food.
MOSES: Both duties must be observed in the same way and with equal care:
for we ought most scrupulously to preserve the proper allowance of food for
the sake of our abstinence, and in like manner out of charity to show courtesy
and encouragement to any of the brethren who may arrive; because it is
absolutely ridiculous when you offer food to a brother, nay, to Christ
Himself, not to partake of it with him, but to make yourself a stranger to his
repast. And so we shall keep clear of guilt on either hand if we observe this
plan; viz., at the ninth hour to partake of one of the two biscuits which form
our proper canonical allowance, and to keep back the other to the evening, in
expectation of something like this, that if any of the brethren comes to see
us we may partake of it with him, and so add nothing to our own customary
allowance: and by this arrangement the arrival of our brother which ought to
be a pleasure to us will cause us no inconvenience: since we shall show him
the civilities which courtesy requires in such a way as to relax nothing of
the strictness of our abstinence. But if no one should come, we may freely
take this last biscuit as belonging to us according to our canonical rule, and
by this frugality of ours as a single biscuit was taken at the ninth hour, our
stomach will not be overloaded at eventide, a thing which is often the case
with those who under the idea that they are observing a stricter abstinence
put off all their repast till evening; for the fact that we have but recently
taken food hinders our intellect from being bright and keen both in our
evening and in our nocturnal prayers, and so at the ninth hour a convenient
and suitable time has been allowed for food, in which a monk can refresh
himself and so find that he is not only fresh and bright during his nocturnal
vigils, but also perfectly ready for his evening prayers, as his food is
already digested.
With such a banquet of two courses, as it were, the holy Moses feasted us,
showing us not only the grace and power of discretion by his present learned
speech, but also the method of renunciation and the end and aim of the
monastic life by the discussion previously held; so as to make clearer than
daylight what we had hitherto pursued simply with fervour of spirit and zeal
for God but with closed eyes, and to make us feel how far we had up till then
wandered from purity of heart and the straight line of our course, since the
practice of all visible arts belonging to this life cannot possibly stand
without an understanding of their aim, nor can it be taken in hand without a
clear view of a definite end.
CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.
III. CONFERENCE OF ABBOT PAPHNUTIUS.
ON THE THREE SORTS OF RENUNCIATIONS.
CHAPTER I.
Of the life and conduct of Abbot Paphnutius.
IN that choir of saints who shine like brilliant stars in the night of
this world, we have seen the holy. Paphnutius,(1) like some great luminary,
shining with the brightness of knowledge. For he was a presbyter of our
company, I mean of those whose abode was in the desert of Scete, where he
lived to extreme old age, without ever moving from his cell, of which he had
taken possession when still young, and which was five miles from the church,
even to nearer districts; nor was he when worn out with years hindered by the
distance from going to Church on Saturday or Sunday. But not wanting to return
from thence empty handed he would lay on his shoulders a bucket of water to
last him all the week, and carry it back to his cell, and even when he was
past ninety would not suffer it to be fetched by the labour of younger men. He
then from his earliest youth. threw himself into the monastic discipline with
such fervour that when he had spent only a short time in it, he was endowed
with the virtue of submission, as well as the knowledge of all good qualities.
For by the practice of humility and obedience he mortified all his desires,
and by this stamped out all his faults and acquired every virtue which the
monastic system and the teaching of the ancient fathers produces, and,
inflamed with desire for still further advances, he was eager to penetrate
into the recesses of the desert, so that, with no human companions to disturb
him, he might be more readily united to the Lord, to whom he longed to be
inseparably joined, even while he still lived in the society of the brethren.
And there once more in his excessive fervour he outstripped the virtues of the
Anchorites, and in his eager desire for continual divine meditation avoided
the sight of them: and he plunged into solitary places yet wilder and more
inaccessible, and hid himself for a long while in them, so that, as the
Anchorites themselves only with great difficulty caught a glimpse of him every
now and then, the belief was that he enjoyed and delighted in the daily
society of angels, and because of this remarkable characteristic of his s he
was surnamed by them the Buffalo.
CHAPTER II.
Of the discourse of the same old man, and our reply to it.
As then we were anxious to learn from his teaching, we came in some
agitation to his cell towards evening. And after a short silence he began to
commend our undertaking, because we had left our homes, and had visited so
many countries out of love for the Lord, and were endeavouring with all our
might to endure want and the trials of the desert, and to imitate their severe
life, which even those who had been born and bred in the same state of want
and penury, could scarcely put up with; and we replied that we had come for
his teaching and instruction in order that we might be to some extent
initiated in the customs of so great a man, and in that perfection which we
had known from many evidences to exist in him, not that we might be honoured
by any commendations to which we had no right, or be puffed up with any
elation of mind, (with which we were sometimes exercised in our own cells at
the suggestion of our enemy) in consequence of any words of his. Wherefore we
begged him rather to lay before us what would make us humble and contrite, and
not what would flatter us and puff us up.
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CHAPTER III.
The statement of Abbot Paphnutius on the three kinds of vocations, and the
three sorts of renunciations.
THEN THE BLESSED PAPHNUTIUS: There are, said he, three kinds of vocations.
And we know that there are three sorts of renunciations as well, which are
necessary to a monk, whatever his vocation may be. And we ought diligently to
examine first the reason for which we said that there were three kinds of
vocations, that when we are sure that we are summoned to God's service in the
first stage of our vocation, we may take care that our life is in harmony with
the exalted height to which we are called, for it will be of no use to have
made a good beginning if we do not show forth an end corresponding to it. But
if we feel that only in the last resort have we been dragged away from a
worldly life, then, as it appears that we rest on a less satisfactory
beginning as regards religion, so must we proportionately make the more
earnest endeavours to rouse ourselves with spiritual fervour to make a better
end. It is well too on every ground for us to know secondly the manner of the
threefold renunciations because we shall never be able to attain perfection,
if we are ignorant of it or if we know it, but do not attempt to carry it out
in act.
CHAPTER IV.
An explanation of the three callings.
To make clear therefore the main differences between these three kinds of
calling, the first is from God, the second comes through man, the third is
from compulsion. And a calling is from God whenever some inspiration has taken
possession of our heart, and even while we are asleep stirs in us at desire
for eternal life and salvation, and bids us follow God and cleave to His
commandments with life-giving contrition: as we read in Holy Scripture that
Abraham was called by the voice of the Lord from his native country, and all
his dear relations, and his father's house; when the Lord said "Get thee out
from thy country and from thy kinsfolk and from thy father's house."(1) And in
this way we have heard that the blessed Antony also was called,(2) the
occasion of whose conversion was received from God alone. For on entering a
church he there heard in the Gospel the Lord saying: "Whoever hateth not
father and mother and children and wife and lands, yea and his own soul also,
cannot be my disciple;" and "if thou wilt be perfect, go sell all that thou
hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven, and come,
follow me:"(3) And with heartfelt contrition he took this charge of the Lord
as if specially aimed at him, and at once gave up everything and followed
Christ, without any incitement thereto from the advice and teaching of men.
The second kind of calling is that which we said took place through man; viz.,
when we are stirred up by the example of some of the saints, and their advice,
and thus inflamed with the desire of salvation: and by this we never forget
that by the grace of the Lord we ourselves were summoned, as we were aroused
by the advice and good example of the above-mentioned saint, to give ourselves
up to this aim and calling; and in this way also we find in Holy Scripture
that it was through Moses that the children of Israel were delivered from the
Egyptian bondage. But the third kind of calling is that which comes from
compulsion, when we have been involved in the riches and pleasures of this
life, and temptations suddenly come upon us and either threaten us with peril
of death, or smite us with the loss and confiscation of our goods, or strike
us down with the death of those dear to us, and thus at length even against
our will we are driven to turn to God whom we scorned to follow in the days of
Our wealth. And of this compulsory call we often find instances in Scripture,
when we read that on account of their sins the children of Israel were given
up by the Lord to their enemies; and that on account of their tyranny and
savage cruelty they turned again, and cried to the Lord. And it says: "The
Lord sent them a Saviour, called Ehud, the son of Gera, the son of Jemini, who
used the left hand as well as the right:" and again we are told, "they cried
unto the Lord, who raised them up a Saviour and delivered them, to wit,
Othniel, the son of Kenaz, Caleb's younger brother."(4) And it is of such that
the Psalm speaks: "When He slew them, then they sought Him: and they returned
and came to Him early in the morning: and they remem-
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bered that God was their helper, and the most High God their redeemer." And
again: "And they cried unto the Lord when they were troubled, and He delivered
them out of their distress."(1)
CHAPTER V.
How the first of these calls is of no use to a sluggard, and the last is no
hindrance to one who is in earnest.
OF these three calls then, although the two former may seem to rest on
better principles, yet sometimes we find that even by the third grade, which
seems the lowest and the coldest, men have been made perfect and most earnest
in spirit, and have become like those who made an admirable beginning in
approaching the Lord's service, and passed the rest of their lives also in
most laudable fervour of spirit: and again we find that from the higher grade
very many have grown cold, and often have come to a miserable end. And just as
it was no hindrance to the former class that they seemed to be converted not
of their own free will, but by force and compulsion, in as much as the loving
kindness of the Lord secured for them the opportunity for repentance, so too
to the latter it was of no avail that the early days of their conversion were
so bright, because they were not careful to bring the remainder of their life
to a suitable end. For in the case of Abbot Moses,(2) who lived in a spot in
the wilderness called Calamus,(3) nothing was wanting to his merits and
perfect bliss, in consequence of the fact that he was driven to flee to the
monastery through fear of death, which was hanging over him because of a
murder; for he made such use of his compulsory conversion that with ready zeal
he turned it into a voluntary one and climbed the topmost heights of
perfection. As also on the Other hand; to very many, whose names I ought not
to mention, it has been of no avail that they entered on the Lord's service
with better beginning than this, as afterwards sloth and hardness of heart
crept over them, and they fell into a dangerous state of torpor, and the
bottomless pit of death, an instance of which we see clearly indicated in the
call of the Apostles. For of what good was it to Judas that he had of his own
free will embraced the highest grade of the Apostolate in the same way in
which Peter and the rest of the Apostles had been summoned, as he allowed the
splendid beginning of his call to terminate in a ruinous end of cupidity and
covetousness, and as a cruel murderer even rushed into the betrayal of the
Lord? Or what hindrance was it to Paul that he was suddenly blinded, and
seemed to be drawn against his will into the way of salvation, as afterwards
he followed the Lord with complete fervour of soul, and having begun by
compulsion completed it by a free and voluntary devotion, and terminated with
a magnificent end a life that was rendered glorious by such great deeds?
Everything therefore depends upon the end; in which one who was consecrated by
a noble conversion at the outset may through carelessness turn out a failure,
and one who was compelled by necessity to adopt the monastic life may through
fear of God and earnestness be made perfect.
CHAPTER VI.
An account of the three sorts of renunciations.
WE must now speak of the renunciations, of which tradition and the
authority of Holy Scripture show us three, and which every one of us ought
with the utmost zeal to make complete. The first is that by which as far as
the body is concerned we make light of all the wealth and goods of this world;
the second, that by which we reject the fashions and vices and former
affections of soul and flesh; the third, that by which we detach our soul from
all present and visible things, and contemplate only things to come, and set
our heart on what is invisible. And we read that the Lord charged Abraham to
do all these. three at once, when He said to him "Get thee out from thy
country, and thy kinsfolk, and thy father's house."(4) First He said "from thy
country," i.e., from the goods of this world, and earthly riches: secondly,
"from thy kinsfolk," i.e., from this former life and habits and sins, which
cling to us from our very birth and are joined to us as it were by ties of
affinity and kinship: thirdly, "from thy father's house," i.e., from all the
recollection of this world, which the sight of the eyes can afford. For of the
two fathers, i.e., of the one who is to be forsaken, and of the one who is to
be sought, David thus speaks in the person of God: "Hearken, O daughter, and
consider, and incline thine ear: forget also thine own people and thy father's
house:"(5) for the person
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who says "Hearken, O daughter," is certainly a Father; and yet he bears
witness that the one, whose house and people he urges should be forgotten, is
none the less father of his daughter. And this happens when being dead with
Christ to the rudiments of this world, we no longer, as the Apostle says,
regard "the things which are seen, but those which are not seen, for the
things which are not seen are eternal,"(1) and going forth in heart from this
temporal and visible home, turn our eyes and heart towards that in which we
are to remain for ever. And this we shall succeed in doing when, while we walk
in the flesh, we are no longer at war with the Lord according to the flesh,
proclaiming in deed and actions the truth of that saying of the blessed
Apostle "Our conversation is in heaven."(2) To these three sorts of
renunciations the three books of Solomon suitably correspond. For Proverbs
answers to the first renunciation, as in it the desires for carnal things and
earthly sins are repressed; to the second Ecclesiastes corresponds, as there
everything which is done under the sun is declared to be vanity; to the third
the Song of Songs, in which the soul soaring above all things visible, is
actually joined to the word of God by the contemplation of heavenly things.
CHAPTER VII.
How we can attain perfection in each of these sorts of renunciations.
WHEREFORE it Will not be of much advantage to us that we have made our
first renunciation with the utmost devotion and faith, if we do not complete
the second with the same zeal and ardour. And so when we have succeeded in
this, we shall be able to arrive at the third as well, in which we go forth
from the house of our former parent, (who, as we know well, was our father
from our Very birth, after the old man, when we were "by nature children of
wrath, as others also,"(3)) and fix our whole mental gaze on things celestial.
And of this father Scripture says to Jerusalem which had despised God the true
Father, "Thy father was an Amorite, and thy mother a Hittite;"(4) and in the
gospel we read "Ye are of your father the devil and the lusts of your father
ye love to do."(5) And when we have left him, as we pass from things visible
to things unseen we shall be able to say with the Apostle: "But we know that
if our earthly house of this tabernacle is dissolved we have a habitation from
God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens,"(6) and this also,
which we quoted a little while ago: "But our conversation is in heaven, whence
also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus, who will reform the body of our
low estate made like to the body of His glory,"(7) and this of the blessed
David: "For I am a sojourner upon the earth," and "a stranger as all my
fathers were;"(8) so that we may in accordance with the Lord's word be made
like those of whom the Lord speaks to His Father in the gospel as follows:
"They are not of the world, as I am not of the world,"(9) and again to the
Apostles themselves: "If ye were of this world, the world would love its own:
but because ye are not of this world, therefore the world hateth you."(10) Of
this third renunciation then we shall succeed in reaching the perfection,
whenever our soul is sullied by no stain of carnal coarseness, but, all such
having been carefully eliminated, it has been freed from every earthly quality
and desire, and by constant meditation on things Divine, and spiritual
contemplation has so far passed on to things unseen, that in its earnest
seeking after things above and things spiritual it no longer feels that it is
prisoned in this fragile flesh, and bodily form, but is caught up into such an
ecstasy as not only to hear no words with the outward ear, or to busy itself
with gazing on the forms of things present, but not even to see things close
at hand, or large objects straight before the very eyes. And of this no one
can understand the truth and force, except one who has made trial of what has
been said, under the teaching of experience; viz., one, the eyes of whose soul
the Lord has turned away from all things present, so that he no longer
considers them as things that will soon pass away, but as things that are
already done with, and sees them vanish into nothing, like misty smoke; and
like Enoch, "walking with God," and "translated" from human life and fashions,
not "be found" amid the vanities of this life: And that this actually happened
corporeally in the case of Enoch the book of Genesis thus tells us. "And Enoch
walked with God, and was not found, for God translated him." And the Apostle
also says: "By faith Enoch was translated that he should not see death," the
death namely of which the Lord says in the gospel: "He that liveth and
believeth in me shall not die eternally."(11) Wherefore, if we are anxious to
attain true perfection, we ought to look to it that as we have outwardly with
the body made light of parents, home, the riches and pleasures of the world,
we may
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also inwardly with the heart forsake all these things and never be drawn back
by any desires to those things which we have forsaken, as those who were led
up by Moses, though they did not literally go back, are yet said to have
returned in heart to Egypt; viz., by forsaking God who had led them forth with
such mighty signs, and by worshipping the idols of Egypt of which they had
thought scorn, as Scripture says: "And in their hearts they turned back into
Egypt, saying to Aaron: Make us gods to go before us,"(1) for we should fall
into like condemnation with those who, while dwelling in the wilderness, after
they had tasted manna from heaven, lusted after the filthy food of sins, and
of mean baseness, and should seem together with them to murmur in the same
way: "It was well with us in Egypt, when we sat over the flesh pots and ate
the onions, and garlic, and cucumbers, and melons:"(2) A form of speech,
which, although it referred primarily to that people, we yet see fulfilled
today in our own case and mode of life: for everyone who after renouncing this
world turns back to his old desires, and reverts to his former likings asserts
in heart and act the very same thing that they did, and says "It was well with
me in Egypt," and I am afraid that the number of these will be as large as
that of the multitudes of backsliders of whom we read under Moses, for though
they were reckoned as six hundred and three thousand armed men who came out of
Egypt, of this number not more than two entered the land of promise. Wherefore
we should be careful to take examples of goodness from those who are few and
far between, because according to that figure of which we have spoken in the
gospel "Many are called but few" are said to be "chosen."(3) A renunciation
then in body alone, and a mere change of place from Egypt will not do us any
good, if we do not succeed in achieving that renunciation in heart, which is
far higher and more valuable. For of that mere bodily renunciation of which we
have spoken the apostle declares as follows: "Though I bestow all my goods to
feed the poor, and give my body to be burned, but have not charity, it
profiteth me nothing."(4) And the blessed Apostle would never have said this
had it not been that he foresaw by the spirit that some who had given all
their goods to feed the poor would not be able to attain to evangelical
perfection and the lofty heights of charity, because while pride or impatience
ruled over their hearts they were not careful to purify themselves from their
former sins, and unrestrained habits, and on that account could never attain
to that love of God which never faileth, and these, as they fall short in this
second stage of renunciation, can still less reach that third stage which is
most certainly far higher. But consider too in your minds with great care the
fact that he did not simply say "If I bestow my goods." For it might perhaps
be thought that he spoke of one who had not fulfilled the command of the
gospel, but had kept back something for himself, as some half-hearted persons
do. But he says "Though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor," i.e., even if
my renunciation of those earthly riches be perfect. And to this renunciation
he adds something still greater: "And though I give my body to be burned, but
have not charity, I am nothing:" As if he had said in other words, though I
bestow all my goods to feed the poor in accordance with that command in the
gospel, where we are told "If thou wilt be perfect, go sell all that thou
hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven,"(5)
renouncing them so as to keep back nothing at all for myself, and though to
this distribution (of my goods) I should by the burning of my flesh add
martyrdom so as to give up my body for Christ, and yet be impatient, or
passionate or envious or proud, or excited by wrongs done by others, or seek
what is mine, or indulge in evil thoughts, or not be ready and patient in
bearing all that can be inflicted on me, this renunciation and the burning of
the outer man will profit me nothing, while the inner man is still involved in
the former sins, because, while in the fervour of the early days of my
conversion I made light of the mere worldly substance, which is said to be not
good or evil in itself but indifferent, I took no care to cast out in like
manner the injurious powers of a bad heart, or to attain to that love of the
Lord which is patient, which is "kind, which envieth not, is not puffed up, is
not soon angry, dealeth not perversely, seeketh not her own, thinketh no
evil," which "beareth all things, endureth all things,"(6) and which lastly
never suffers him who follows after it to fall by the deceitfulness of sin.
CHAPTER VIII.
Of our very own possessions in which the beauty of the soul
is seen or its foulness.
WE ought then to take the utmost care that our inner man as well may cast
off and make
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away with all those possessions of its sins, which it acquired in its former
life: which as they continually cling to body and soul are our very own, and,
unless we reject them and cut them off while we are still in the flesh, will
not cease to accompany us after death. For as good qualities, or charity
itself which is their source, may be gained in this world, and after the close
of this life make the man who loves it lovely and glorious, so our faults
transmit to that eternal remembrance a mind darkened and stained with foul
colours. For the beauty or ugliness of the soul is the product of its virtues
or its vices, the colour it takes from which either makes it so glorious, that
it may well hear from the prophet "And the king shall have pleasure in thy
beauty,"(1) or so black, and foul, and ugly, that it must surely acknowledge
the stench of its shame, and say "My wounds stink and are corrupt because of
my foolishness,"(2) and the Lord Himself says to it "Why is not the wound of
the daughter of my people closed?"(3) And therefore these are our very own
possessions, which continually remain with the soul, which no king and no
enemy can either give or take away from us. These are our very own possessions
which not even death itself can part from the soul, but by renouncing which we
can attain to perfection, and by clinging to which we shall suffer the
punishment of eternal death.
CHAPTER IX.
Of three sorts of possessions.
RICHES and possessions are taken in Holy Scripture in three different
ways, i.e., as good, bad, and indifferent. Those are bad, of which it is said:
"The rich have wanted and have suffered hunger,"(4) and "Woe unto you that
are rich, for ye have received your consolation:"(5) and to have cast off
these riches is the height of perfection; and a distinction which belongs to
those poor who are commended in the gospel by the Lord's saying: "Blessed are
the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven;"(6) and in the Psalm:
"This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him,"(7) and again: "The poor and
needy shall praise thy name."(8) Those riches are good, to acquire which is
the work of great virtue and merit, and the righteous possessor of which is
praised by David who says "The generation of the righteous shall be blessed:
glory and riches are in his house, and his righteousness remaineth for
ever:"(9) and again "the ransom of a man's life are his riches."(10) And of
these riches it is Said in the Apocalypse to him who has them not and to his
shame is poor and naked: "I will begin," says he, "to vomit thee out of my
mouth. Because thou sayest I am rich and wealthy and have need of nothing: and
knowest not that thou art wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked,
I counsel thee to buy of me gold fire-tried, that thou mayest be made rich,
and mayest be clothed in white garments, and that the shame of thy nakedness
may not appear."(11) There are some also which are indifferent, i.e., which
may be made either good or bad: for they are made either one or the other in
accordance with the will and character of those who use them: of which the
blessed, Apostle says "Charge the rich of this world not to be high-minded nor
to trust in the uncertainty of riches, but in God (who giveth us abundantly
all things to enjoy), to do good, to give easily, to communicate to Others, to
lay up in store for themselves a good foundation that they may lay hold on the
true life."(12) These are what the rich man in the gospel kept, and never
distributed to the poor,--while the beggar Lazarus was lying at his gate and
desiring to be fed with his crumbs; and so he was condemned to the unbearable
flames and everlasting heat of hell-fire.(13)
CHAPTER X.
That none can become perfect merely through the first grade
of renunciation.
IN leaving then these visible goods of the world we forsake not our own
wealth, but that which is not ours, although we boast of it as either gained
by our own exertions or inherited by us from our forefathers. For as I said
nothing is our own, save this only which we possess with our heart, and which
cleaves to our soul, and therefore cannot be taken away from us by any one.
But Christ speaks in terms of censure of those visible riches, to those who
clutch them as if they were their own, and refuse to share them with those in
want. "If ye have not been faithful in what is another's, who will give to you
what is your own?"(14) Plainly then it is not only daily
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experience which teaches us that these riches are not our own, but this saying
of our Lord also, by the very title which it gives them. But concerning
visible(1) and worthless riches Peter says to the Lord: "Lo, we have left all
and followed thee. What shall we have therefore?"(2) when it is clear that
they had left nothing but their miserable broken nets. And unless this
expression "all" is understood to refer to that renunciation of sins which is
really great and important, we shall not find that the Apostles had left
anything of any value, or that the Lord had any reason for bestowing on them
the blessing of so great glory, that they were allowed to hear from Him that
"in the regeneration, when the Son of Man shall sit on the throne of His
glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones judging the twelve tribes of
Israel."(3) If then those, who have completely renounced their earthly and
visible goods, cannot for sufficient reason attain to Apostolic charity, nor
climb with readiness and vigour to that third stage of renunciation which is
still higher and belongs to but few, what should those think of themselves,
who do not even make that first step (which is very easy) a thorough one, but
keep together with their old want of faith, their former sordid riches, and
fancy that they can boast of the mere name of monks? The first renunciation
then of which we spoke is of what is not our own, and therefore is not enough
of itself to confer perfection on the renunciant, unless he advances to the
second, which is really and truly a renunciation of what belongs to us. And
when we have made sure of this by the expulsion of all our faults, we shall
mount to the heights of the third renunciation also, whereby we rise above not
merely all those things which are done in this world or specially belong to
men, but even that whole universe around us which is esteemed so glorious, and
shall with heart and soul look down upon it as subject to vanity and destined
soon to pass away; as we look, as the Apostle says, "not on those things which
are seen, but on those which are not seen: for the things that are seen, are
temporal, and the things which are not seen are eternal;"(4) that so we may be
found worthy to hear that highest utterance, which was spoken to Abraham: "and
come into a land which I will show thee,"(5) which clearly shows that unless a
man has made those three former renunciations with all earnestness of mind, he
cannot attain to this fourth, which is granted as a reward and privilege to
one whose renunciation is perfect, that he may be found worthy to enter the
land of promise which no longer bears for him the thorns and thistles of sins;
which after all the passions have been driven out is acquired by purity of
heart even in the body, and which no good deeds or exertions of man's efforts
(can gain), but which the Lord Himself promises to show, saying "And come into
the land which I will show to thee:" which clearly proves that the beginning
of our salvation results from the call of the Lord, Who says "Get thee out
from thy country," and that the completion of perfection and purity is His
gift in the same way, as He says "And come into the land which I will show
thee," i.e., not one you yourself can know or discover by your own efforts,
but one which I will show not only to one who is ignorant of it, but even to
one who is not looking for it. And from this we clearly gather that as we
hasten to the way of salvation through being stirred up by the inspiration of
the Lord, so too it is under the guidance of His direction and illumination
that we attain to the perfection of the highest bliss.
CHAPTER XI.
A question on the free will of man and the grace of God.
GERMANUS: Where then is there room for free will, and how is it ascribed
to our efforts that we are worthy of praise, if God both begins and ends
everything in us which concerns our salvation?
CHAPTER XII.
The answer on the economy of Divine Grace, with free will still
remaining in us.
PAPHNUTIUS: This would fairly influence us, if in every work and practice,
the beginning and the end were everything, and there were no middle in
between. And so as we know that God creates opportunities of salvation in
various ways, it is in our power to make use of the opportunities granted to
us by heaven more or less earnestly. For just as the offer came from God Who
called him "get thee out of thy country," so the obedience was on the part of
Abraham who went forth; and as the fact that the saying "Come into the land"
was carried into action, was the work of him who obeyed, so the addition of
the
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words "which I will show thee" came from the grace of God Who commanded or
promised it. But it is well for us to be sure that although we practise every
virtue with unceasing efforts, yet with all our exertions and zeal we can
never arrive at perfection, nor is mere human diligence and toil of itself
sufficient to deserve to reach the splendid reward of bliss, unless we have
secured it by means of the co-operation of the Lord, and His directing our
heart to what is right. And so we ought every moment to pray and say with
David "Order my steps in thy paths that my footsteps slip not:"(1) and "He
hath set my feet upon a rock and ordered my goings:"(2) that He Who is the
unseen ruler of the human heart may vouchsafe to turn to the desire of virtue
that will of ours, which is more readily inclined to vice either through want
of knowledge of what is good, or through the delights of passion. And we read
this in a verse in which the prophet sings very plainly: "Being pushed I was
overturned that I might fall," where the weakness of our free will is shown.
And "the Lord sustained me:"(3) again this shows that the Lord's help is
always joined to it, and by this, that we may not be altogether destroyed by
our free will, when He sees that we have stumbled, He sustains and supports
us, as it were by stretching out His hand. And again: "If I said my foot was
moved;" viz., from the slippery character of the will, "Thy mercy, O Lord,
helped me."(4) Once more he joins on the help of God to his own weakness, as
he confesses that it was not owing to his own efforts but to the mercy of God,
that the foot of his faith was not moved. And again: "According to the
multitude of the sorrows which I had in my heart," which sprang most certainly
from my free will, "Thy comforts have refreshed my soul,"(5) i.e., by coming
through Thy inspiration into my heart, and laying open the view of future
blessings which Thou hast prepared for them who labour in Thy name, they not
only removed all anxiety from my heart, but actually conferred upon it the
greatest delight. And again: "Had it not been that the Lord helped me, my soul
had almost dwelt in hell."(6) He certainly shows that through the depravity of
this free will he would have dwelt in hell, had he not been saved by the
assistance and protection of the Lord. For "By the Lord," and not by
free-will, "are a man's steps directed," and "although the righteous fair" at
least by free will, "he shall not be east away." And why? because "the Lord
upholdeth him with His hand:"(7) and this is to say with the utmost clearness:
None of the righteous are sufficient of themselves to acquire righteousness,
unless every moment when they stumble and fall the Divine mercy supports them
with His hands, that they may not utterly collapse and perish, when they have
been cast down through the weakness of free will.
CHAPTER XIII.
That the ordering of our way comes from God.
AND truly the saints have never said that it was by their own efforts that
they secured the direction of the way in which they walked in their course
towards advance and perfection of virtue, but rather they prayed for it from
the Lord, saying "Direct me in Thy truth," and "direct my way in thy
Sight."(8) But someone else declares that he discovered this very fact not
only by faith, but also by experience, and as it were from the very nature of
things: "I know, O Lord, that the way of man is not his: neither is it in a
man to walk and to direct his steps."(9) And the Lord Himself says to Israel:
"I will direct him like a green fir-tree: from Me is thy fruit found."(10)
CHAPTER XIV.
That knowledge of the law is given by the guidance and illumination of the
Lord.
THE knowledge also of the law itself they daily endeavour to gain not by
diligence in reading, but by the guidance and illumination of God as they say
to Him: "Show me Thy ways, O Lord, and teach me Thy paths:" and "open Thou
mine eyes: and I shall see the wondrous things of Thy law:" and "teach me to
do Thy will, for Thou art my God;" and again: "Who teacheth man
knowledge."(11)
CHAPTER XV.
That the understanding, by means of which we can recognize God's commands, and
the performance of a good will are both gifts from the Lord.
FURTHER the blessed David asks of the Lord that he may gain that very
understanding, by which he can recognize God's com-
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rounds which, he well knew, were written in the book of the law, and he says
"I am Thy servant: O give me understanding that I may learn Thy
commandments."(1) Certainly he was in possession of understanding, which had
been granted to him by nature, and also had at his fingers' ends a knowledge
of God's commands which were preserved in writing in the law: and still he
prayed the Lord that he might learn this more thoroughly as he knew that what
came to him by nature would never be sufficient for him, unless his
understanding was enlightened by the Lord by a daily illumination from Him, to
understand the law spiritually and to recognize His commands more clearly, as
the "chosen vessel" also declares very plainly this which we are insisting on.
"For it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do according to good
will."(2) What could well be clearer than the assertion that both our good
will and the completion of our work are fully wrought in us by the Lord? And
again "For it is granted to you for Christ's sake, not only to believe in Him
but also to suffer for Him."(8) Here also he declares that the beginning of
our conversion and faith, and the endurance of suffering is a gift to us from
the Lord. And David too, as he knows this, similarly prays that the same thing
may be granted to him by God's mercy. "Strengthen, O God, that which Thou hast
wrought in us:"(4) showing that it is not enough for the beginning of our
salvation to be granted by the gift and grace of God, unless it has been
continued and ended by the same pity and continual help from Him. For not free
will but the Lord "looseth them that are bound." No strength of ours, but the
Lord "raiseth them that are fallen:" no diligence in reading, but "the Lord
enlightens the blind:" where the Greeks have kurios
tofoi tuflous, i.e., "the Lord maketh wise the
blind:" no care on our part, but "the Lord careth for the stranger:" no
courage of ours, but "the Lord assists (or supports) all those who are
down."(5) But this we say, not to slight our zeal and efforts and diligence,
as if they were applied unnecessarily and foolishly, but that we may know that
we cannot strive without the help of God, nor can our efforts be of any use in
securing the great reward of purity, unless it has been granted to us by the
assistance and mercy of the Lord: for "a horse is prepared for the day of
battle: but help cometh from the Lord,"(6) "for no man can prevail by
strength."(7) We ought then always to sing with the blessed David: "My
strength and my praise is" not my free will, but "the Lord, and He is become
my salvation."(8) And the teacher of the Gentiles was not ignorant of this
when he declared that he was made capable of the ministry of the New Testament
not by his own merits or efforts but by the mercy of God. "Not" says he, "that
we are capable of thinking anything of ourselves as of ourselves, but our
sufficiency is of God, which can be put in less good Latin but more forcibly,
"our capability is of God," and then there follows: "Who also made us capable
ministers of the New Testament."(9)
CHAPTER XVI.
That faith itself must be given us by the Lord.
BUT so thoroughly did the Apostles realize that everything which concerns
salvation was given them by the Lord, that they even asked that faith itself
should be granted from the Lord, saying: "Add to us faith"(10) as they did not
imagine that it could be gained by free will, but believed that it would be
bestowed by the free gift of God. Lastly the Author of man's salvation teaches
us how feeble and weak and insufficient our faith would be unless it were
strengthened by the aid of the Lord, when He says to Peter "Simon, Simon,
behold Satan hath desired to have you that he may sift you as wheat. But I
have prayed to my Father that thy faith fail not."(11) And another finding
that this was happening in his own case, and seeing that his faith was being
driven by the waves of unbelief on the rocks which would cause a fearful
shipwreck, asks of the same Lord an aid to his faith, saying "Lord, help mine
unbelief."(12) So thoroughly then did those Apostles and men in the gospel
realize that everything which is good is brought to perfection by the aid of
the Lord, and not imagine that they could preserve their faith unharmed by
their own strength or free will that they prayed that it might be helped or
granted to them by the Lord. And if in Peter's case there was need of the
Lord's help that it might not fail, who will be so presumptuous and blind as
to fancy that he has no need of daily assistance from the Lord in order to
preserve it? Especially
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as the Lord Himself has made this clear in the gospel, saying: "As the branch
cannot bear fruit of itself except it abide in the vine, so no more can ye,
except ye abide in me."(1) And again: "for without me ye can do nothing."(2)
How foolish and wicked then it is to attribute any good action to our own
diligence and not to God's grace and assistance, is clearly shown by the
Lord's saying, which lays down that no one can show forth the fruits of the
Spirit without His inspiration and co-operation. For "every good gift and
every perfect boon is from above, coming down from the Father of lights."(3)
And Zechariah too says, "For whatever is good is His, and what is excellent is
from Him."(4) And so the blessed Apostle consistently says: "What hast thou
which thou didst not receive? But if thou didst receive it, why boastest thou
as if thou hadst not received it?"(5)
CHAPTER XVII.
That temperateness and the endurance of temptations must be
given to us by the Lord.
AND that all the endurance, with which we can bear the temptations brought
upon us, depends not so much on our own strength as on the mercy and guidance
of God, the blessed Apostle thus declares: "No temptation hath come upon you
but such as is common to man. But God is faithful, who will not suffer you to
be tempted above that ye are able, but will with the temptation make also a
way of escape, that ye may be able to bear it." (6) And that God fits and
strengthens our souls for every good work, and worketh in us all those things
which are pleasing to Him, the same Apostle teaches: "May the God of peace who
brought out of darkness the great Shepherd of the sheep, Jesus Christ, in the
blood of the everlasting Testament, fit you in all goodness, working in you
what is well-pleasing in His sight."(7) And that the same thing may happen to
the Thessalonians he prays as follows, saying: "Now our Lord Jesus Christ
Himself and God our Father who hath loved us and hath given us everlasting
consolation and good hope in grace, exhort your hearts, and confirm you in
every good word and work."(8)
CHAPTER XVIII.
That the continual fear of God must be bestowed on us by the
Lord.
AND lastly the prophet Jeremiah, speaking in the person of God, clearly
testifies that even the fear of God, by which we can hold fast to Him, is shed
upon us by the Lord: saying as follows: "And I will give them one heart, and
one way, that they may fear Me all days: and that it may be well with them and
with their children after them. And I will make an everlasting covenant with
them and will not cease to do them good: and I will give My fear in their
hearts that they may not revolt from Me."(9) Ezekiel also says: "And I will
give them one heart, and will put a new spirit in their bowels: and I will
take away the stony heart out of their flesh and will give them a heart of
flesh: that they may walk in My commandments, and keep My judgments and do
them: and that they may be My people, and I may be their God."(10)
CHAPTER XIX.
That the beginning of our good will and its completion comes
from God.
AND this plainly teaches us that the beginning of our good will is given
to us by the inspiration of the Lord, when He draws us towards the way of
salvation either by His own act, or by the exhortations of some man, or by
compulsion; and that the consummation of our good deeds is granted by Him in
the same way: but that it is in our own power to follow up the encouragement
and assistance of God with more or less zeal, and that accordingly we are
rightly visited either with reward or with punishment, because we have been
either careless or careful to correspond to His design and providential
arrangement made for us with such kindly regard. And this is clearly and
plainly described in Deuteronomy. "When," says he, "the Lord thy God shall
have brought thee into the land which thou art going to possess, and shall
have destroyed many nations before thee, the Hittite, and the Gergeshite, and
the Amorite, the Canaanite, and the Perizzite, the Hivite, and the Jebusite,
seven nations much more numerous than thou art and stronger than thou, and the
Lord thy God shall have delivered them to thee, thou shalt utterly destroy
them.
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Thou shalt make no league with them. Neither shalt thou make marriage with
them."(1) So then Scripture declares that it is the free gift of God that they
are brought into the land of promise, that many nations are destroyed before
them, that nations more numerous and mightier than the people of Israel are
given up into their hands. But whether Israel utterly destroys them, or
whether it preserves them alive and spares them, and whether or no it makes a
league with them, and makes marriages with them or not, it declares lies in
their own power. And by this testimony we can clearly see what we ought to
ascribe to free will, and what to the design and daily assistance of the Lord,
and that it belongs to divine grace to give us opportunities of salvation and
prosperous undertakings and victory: but that it is ours to follow up the
blessings which God gives us with earnestness or indifference. And this same
fact we see is plainly taught in the healing of the blind men. For the fact
that Jesus passed by them, was a free gift of Divine providence and
condescension. But the fact that they cried out and said "Have mercy on us,
Lord, thou son of David,"(2) was an act of their own faith and belief. That
they received the sight of their eyes was a gift of Divine pity. But that
after the reception of any blessing, the grace of God, and the use of free
will both remain, the case of the ten lepers, who were all healed alike, shows
us. For when one of them through goodness of will returned thanks, the Lord
looking for the nine, and praising the one, showed that He was ever anxious to
help even those who were unmindful of His kindness. For even this is a gift of
His visitation; viz., that he receives and commends the grateful one, and
looks for and censures those who are thankless.
CHAPTER XX.
That nothing can be done in this world without God.
BUT it is right for us to hold with unswerving faith that nothing whatever
is done in this world without God. For we must acknowledge that everything is
done either by His will or by His permission, i.e., we must believe that
whatever is good is carried out by the will of God and by His aid, and
whatever is the reverse is done by His permission, when the Divine Protection
is withdrawn from us for our sins and the hardness of our hearts, and suffers
the devil and the shameful passions of the body to lord it over us. And the
words of the Apostle most assuredly teach us this, when he says: "For this
cause God delivered them up to shameful passions:" and again: "Because they
did not like to have God in their knowledge, God delivered them up to a
reprobate sense, to do those things which are not convenient."(3) And the Lord
Himself says by the prophet: "But My people did not hear My voice and Israel
did not obey me: Wherefore I gave them up unto their own hearts' lusts. They
shall walk after their own inventions."(4)
CHAPTER XXI.
An objection on the power of free will.
GERMANUS: This passage very clearly shows the freedom of the will, where
it is said "If My people would have hearkened unto Me," and elsewhere "But My
people would not hear My voice."(5) For when He says "If they would have
heard" He shows that the decision to yield or not to yield lay in their own
power. How then is it true that our salvation does not depend upon ourselves,
if God Himself has given us the power either to hearken or not to hearken?
CHAPTER XXII.
The answer; viz., that our free will always has need of the
help of the Lord.
PAPHNUTIUS: You have shrewdly enough noticed how it is said "If they would
have hearkened to Me:" but have not sufficiently considered either who it is
who speaks to one who does or does not hearken; or what follows: "I should
soon have put down their enemies, and laid My hand on those that trouble
them."(6) Let no one then try by a false interpretation to twist that which we
brought forward to prove that nothing can be done without the Lord, nor take
it in support of free will, in such a way as to try to take away from man the
grace of God and His daily oversight, through this test: "But My people did
not hear My voice," and again: "If My people would have hearkened unto Me, and
if Israel would have walked in My ways, etc.:" but let him consider that just
as the power of free will is evidenced by the disobedience of the people, so
the daily over-
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sight of God who declares and admonishes him is also shown. For where He says
"If My people would have hearkened unto Me" He clearly implies that He had
spoken to them before. And this the Lord was wont to do not only by means of
the written law, but also by daily exhortations, as this which is given by
Isaiah: "All day long have I stretched forth My hands to a disobedient and
gain-saying people."(1) Both points then can be supported from this passage,
where it says: "If My people would have hearkened, and if Israel had walked in
My ways, I should soon have put down their enemies, and laid My hand on those
that trouble them." For just as free will is shown by the disobedience of the
people, so the government of God and His assistance is made clear by the
beginning and end of the verse, where He implies that He had spoken to them
before, and that afterwards He would put down their enemies, if they would
have hearkened unto Him. For we have no wish to do away with man's free will
by what we have said, but only to establish the fact that the assistance and
grace of God are necessary to it every day and hour. When he had instructed us
with this discourse Abbot Paphnutius dismissed us from his cell before
midnight in a state of contrition rather than of liveliness; insisting on this
as the chief lesson in his discourse; viz., that when we fancied that by
making perfect the first renunciation (which we were endeavouring to do with
all our powers), we could climb the heights of perfection, we should make the
discovery that we had not yet even begun to dream of the heights to which a
monk can rise, since after we had learnt some few things about the second
renunciation, we should find out that we had not before this even heard a word
of the third stage, in which all perfection is comprised, and which in many
ways far exceeds these lower ones.
CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.
IV.
CONFERENCE OF ABBOT DANIEL.
ON THE LUST OF THE FLESH AND OF THE SPIRIT
CHAPTER I.
Of the life of Abbot Daniel.
AMONG the other heroes of Christian philosophy we also knew Abbot Daniel,
who was not only the equal of those who dwelt in the desert of Scete in every
sort of virtue, but was specially marked by the grace of humility. This man on
account of his purity and gentleness, though in age the junior of most, was
preferred to the office of the diaconate by the blessed Paphnutius, presbyter
in the same desert: for the blessed Paphnutius was so delighted with his
excellent qualities, that, as he knew that he was his equal in virtue and
grace of life, he was anxious also to make him his equal in the order of the
priesthood. And since he could not bear that he should remain any longer in an
inferior office, and was also anxious to provide a worthy successor to himself
in his lifetime, he promoted him to the dignity of the priesthood.(2) He
however relinquished nothing of his former customary humility, and when the
other was present, never took upon himself anything from his advance to a
higher order, but when Abbot Paphnutius was offering spiritual sacrifices,
ever continued to act as a deacon in the office of his former ministry.
However, the blessed Paphnutius though so great a saint as to possess the
grace of foreknowledge in many matters, yet in this case was disappointed of
his hope of the succession and the choice he had made, for he himself passed
to God no long time after him whom he had prepared as his successor.
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CHAPTER II.
An investigation of the origin of a sudden change of feeling from
inexpressible joy to extreme dejection of mind.
SO then we asked this blessed Daniel why it was that as we sat in the
cells we were sometimes filled with the utmost gladness of heart, together
with inexpressible delight and abundance of the holiest feelings, so that I
will not say speech, but feeling could not follow it, and pure prayers were
readily breathed, and the mind being filled with spiritual fruits, praying to
God even in sleep could feel that its petitions rose lightly and powerfully to
God: and again, why it was that for no reason we were suddenly filled with the
utmost grief, and weighed down with unreasonable depression, so that we not
only felt as if we ourselves were, overcome with such feelings, but also our
cell grew dreadful, reading palled upon us, aye and our very prayers were
offered up unsteadily and vaguely, and almost as if we were intoxicated: so
that while we were groaning and endeavouring to restore ourselves to our
former disposition, our mind was unable to do this, and the more earnestly it
sought to fix again its gaze upon God, so was it the more vehemently carried
away to wandering thoughts by shifting aberrations and so utterly deprived of
all spiritual fruits, as not to be capable of being roused from this deadly
slumber even by the desire of the kingdom of heaven, or by the fear of hell
held out to it. To this he replied.
CHAPTER III.
His answer to the question raised.
A THREEFOLD account of this mental dryness of which you speak has been
given by the Elders. For it comes either from carelessness on our part, or
from the assaults of the devil, or from the permission and allowance of the
Lord. From carelessness on our part, when through our own faults, coldness has
come upon us, and we have behaved carelessly and hastily, and owing to
slothful idleness have fed on bad thoughts, and so make the ground of our
heart bring forth thorns and thistles; which spring up in it, and consequently
make us sterile, and powerless as regards all spiritual fruit and meditation.
From the assaults of the devil when, sometimes, while we are actually intent
on good desires, our enemy with crafty subtilty makes his way into our heart,
and without our knowledge and against our will we are drawn away from the best
intentions.
CHAPTER IV.
How there is a twofold reason for the permission and allowance of God.
BUT for God's permission and allowance there is a twofold reason. First,
that being for a short time forsaken by the Lord, and observing with all
humility the weakness of our own heart, we may not be puffed up on account of
the previous purity of heart. granted to us by His visitation; and that by
proving that when we are forsaken by Him we cannot possibly recover our former
state of purity and delight by any groanings and efforts of our own, we may
also learn that our previous gladness of heart resulted not from our own
earnestness but from His gift, and that for the present time it must be sought
once more from His grace and enlightenment. But a second reason for this
allowance, is to prove our perseverance, and steadfastness of mind, and real
desires, and to show in us, with what purpose of heart, or earnestness in
prayer we seek for the return of the Holy Spirit, when He leaves us, and also
in order that when we discover with what efforts we must seek for that
spiritual gladness--when once it is lost--and the joy of purity, we may learn
to preserve it more carefully, when once it is secured, and to hold it with
firmer grasp. For men are generally more careless about keeping whatever they
think can be easily replaced.
CHAPTER V.
How our efforts and exertions are of no use without God's
help.
AND by this it is clearly shown that God's grace and mercy always work in
us what is good, and that when it forsakes us, the efforts of the worker are
useless, and that however earnestly a man may strive, he cannot regain his
former condition without His help, and that this saying is constantly
fulfilled in our case: that it is "not of him that willeth or runneth but of
God which hath mercy."(1) And this grace on the other hand sometimes does not
refuse to visit with that holy inspiration of which you spoke, and with an
abundance of spiritual thoughts, even the careless and indifferent; but
inspires the unworthy, arouses the slumberers, and enlightens those who are
blinded by ignorance, and mercifully reproves us and chastens us, shedding
itself abroad in our hearts, that thus we may be stirred by the compunction
which He excites, and impelled
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to rise from the sleep of sloth. Lastly we are often filled by His sudden
visitation with sweet odours, beyond the power of human composition--so that
the soul is ravished with these delights, and caught up, as it were, into an
ecstasy of spirit, and becomes oblivious of the fact that it is still in the
flesh.
CHAPTER VI.
How it is sometimes to our advantage to be left by God.
BUT the blessed David recognizes that sometimes this departure of which we
have spoken, and (as it were) desertion by God may be to some extent to our
advantage, so that he was unwilling to pray, not that he might not be
absolutely forsaken by God in anything (for he was aware that this would have
been disadvantageous both to himself and to human nature in its course towards
perfection) but he rather entreated that it might be in measure and degree,
saying "Forsake me not utterly"(1) as if to say in other words: I know that
thou dost forsake thy saints to their advantage, in order to prove them, for
in no other way could they be tempted by the devil, unless they were for a
little forsaken by Thee. And therefore I ask not that Thou shouldest never
forsake me, for it would not be well for me not to feel my weakness and say
"It is good for me that Thou hast brought me low"(2) nor to have no
opportunity of fighting. And this I certainly should not have, if the Divine
protection shielded me incessantly and unbrokenly. For the devil will not dare
to attack me while supported by Thy defence, as he brings both against me and
Thee this objection and complaint, which he ever slanderously brings against
Thy champions, "Does Job serve God for nought? Hast not Thou made a fence for
him and his house and all his substance round about?"(3) But I rather entreat
that Thou forsake me not utterly--what the Greeks call ews
sfodra, i.e., too much. For, first, as it is advantageous to me
for Thee to forsake me a little, that the steadfastness of my love may be
tried, so it is dangerous if Thou suffer me to be forsaken excessively in
proportion to my faults and what I deserve, since no power of man, if in
temptation it is forsaken for too long a time by Thine aid, can endure by its
own steadfastness, and not forthwith give in to the power of the enemy's side,
unless Thou Thyself, as Thou knowest the strength of man, and moderatest his
struggles, "Suffer us not to be tempted above that we are able, but makest
with the temptation a way of escape that we may be able to bear it."(4) And
something of this sort we read in the book of Judges was mystically designed
in the matter of the extermination of the spiritual nations which were opposed
to Israel: "These are the nations, which the Lord left that by them He might
instruct Israel, that they might learn to fight with their enemies," and again
shortly after: "And the Lord left them that He might try Israel by them,
whether they would hear the commandments of the Lord, which He had commanded
their fathers by the hand of Moses, or not,"(5) And this conflict God reserved
for Israel, not from envy of their peace, or from a wish to hurt them, but
because He knew that it would be good for them that while they were always
oppressed by the attacks of those nations they might not cease to feel
themselves in need of the aid of the Lord, and for this reason might ever
continue to meditate on Him and invoke His aid, and not grow careless through
lazy ease, and lose the habit of resisting, and the practice of virtue. For
again and again, men whom adversity could not overcome, have been east down by
freedom from care and by prosperity.
CHAPTER VII.
Of the value of the conflict which the Apostle makes to consist in the strife
between the flesh and the spirit.
THIS conflict too we read in the Apostle has for our good been placed in
our members: "For the flesh lusteth against the spirit: and the spirit against
the flesh. But these two are opposed to each other so that ye should not do
what ye would."(6) You have here too a contest as it were implanted in our
bodies, by the action and arrangement of the Lord. For when a thing exists in
everybody universally and without the slightest exception, what else can you
think about it except that it belongs to the substance of human nature, since
the fall of the first man, as it were naturally: and when a thing is found to
be congenital with everybody, and to grow with their growth, how can we help
believing that it was implanted by the will of the Lord, not to injure them
but to help them? But the reason of this conflict; viz., of flesh and spirit,
he tells us is this: that ye should not do what ye would." And so, if we
fulfil what God arranged that we should not fulfil, i.e., that we should not
do what we liked, how can we help
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believing that it is bad for us? And this conflict implanted in us by the
arrangement of the Creator is in a way useful to us, and calls and urges us on
to a higher state: and if it ceased, most surely there would ensue on the
other hand a peace that is fraught with danger.
CHAPTER VIII.
A question, how it is that in the Apostle's chapter, after he has spoken of
the lusts of the flesh and spirit opposing one another, he adds a third thing;
viz., man's will.
GERMANUS: Although some glimmer of the sense nosy seems clear to us, yet
as we cannot thoroughly grasp the Apostle!s meaning, we want you to explain
this more clearly to us. For the existence of three things seems to be
indicated here: first, the struggle of the flesh against the spirit, secondly
the desire of the spirit against the flesh, and thirdly our own free will,
which seems to be placed between the two, and of which it is said: "Ye should
not do what ye will." And on this subject though as I said we can gather some
hints, from what you have explained of the meaning, yet--since this conference
gives the opportunity--we are anxious to have it more fully explained to us.
CHAPTER IX.
The answer on the understanding of one who asks rightly.
DANIEL: It belongs to the understanding to discern the distinctions and
the drift of questions; and it is a main part of knowledge to understand how
ignorant you are. Wherefore it is said that "if a fool asks questions, it will
be accounted wisdom,"(1) because, although one who asks questions is ignorant
of the answer to the question raised, yet as he wisely asks, and learns what
he does not know, this very fact will be counted as wisdom in him, because he
wisely discovers what he was ignorant of. According then to this division of
yours, it seems that in this passage the Apostle mentions three things, the
lust of the flesh against the spirit, and of the spirit against the flesh, the
mutual struggle of which against each other appears to have this as its cause
and reason; viz., "that," says he, "we should not do what we would." There
remains then a fourth case, which you have overlooked; viz., that we should do
what we would not. Now then, we must first discover the meaning of those two
desires, i.e., of the flesh and spirit, and so next learn to discuss our free
will, which is placed between the two, and then lastly in the same way we can
see what cannot belong to our free will.
CHAPTER X.
That the word flesh is not used with one single meaning only.
WE find that the word flesh is used in holy Scripture with many different
meanings: for sometimes it stands for the whole man, i.e., for that which
consists of body and soul, as here "And the Word was made flesh,"(2) and "All
flesh shall see the salvation of our God."(3) Sometimes it stands for sinful
and carnal men, as here "My spirit shall not remain in those men, because they
are flesh."(4) Sometimes it is used for sins themselves, as here: "But ye are
not in the flesh but in the spirit,"(5) and again "Flesh and blood shall not
inherit the kingdom of God:" lastly there follows, "Neither shall corruption
inherit incorruption."(6) Sometimes it stands for consanguinity and
relationship, as here: "Behold we are thy bone and thy flesh,"(7) and the
Apostle says: "If by any means I may provoke to emulation them who are my
flesh, and save some of them."(8) We must therefore inquire in which of these
four meanings we ought to take the word flesh in this place, for it is clear
that it cannot possibly stand as in the passage where it is said "The Word was
made flesh," and "All flesh shall see the salvation of God." Neither can it
have the same meaning as where it is said "My Spirit shall not remain in those
men because they are flesh," because the word flesh is not used here as it is
there where it stands simply for a sinful man--when he says" The flesh lusteth
against the spirit and the spirit against the flesh."(9) Nor is he speaking of
things material, but of realities which in one and the same man struggle
either at the same time or separately, with the shifting and changing of time.
CHAPTER XI.
What the Apostle means by flesh in this passage, and what
the lust of the flesh is.
WHEREFORE in this passage we ought to take "flesh" as meaning not man,
i.e., his ma-
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terial substance, but the carnal will and evil desires, just as "spirit" does
not mean anything material, but the good and spiritual desires of the soul: a
meaning which the blessed Apostle has clearly given just before, where he
begins: "But I say, walk in the spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the desires of
the flesh; for the flesh lusteth against the spirit and the spirit against the
flesh: but these are contrary the one to the other, that ye may not do what ye
would." And since these two; viz., the desires of the flesh and of the spirit
co-exist in one and the same man, there arises an internal warfare daily
carried on within us, while the lust of the flesh which rushes blindly towards
sin, revels in those delights which are connected with present ease. And on
the other hand the desire of the spirit is opposed to these, and wishes to be
entirely absorbed in spiritual efforts, so that it actually wants to be rid of
even the necessary uses of the flesh, longing to be so constantly taken up
with these things as to desire to have no share of anxiety about the weakness
of the flesh. The flesh delights in wantonness and lust: the spirit does not
even tolerate natural desires. The one wants to have plenty of sleep, and to
be satiated with food: the other is nourished with vigils and fasting, so as
to be unwilling even to admit of sleep and food for the needful purposes of
life. The one longs to be enriched with plenty of everything, the other is
satisfied even without the possession of a daily supply of scanty food. The
one seeks to look sleek by means of baths, and to be surrounded every day by
crowds of flatterers, the other delights in dirt and filth, and the solitude
of the inaccessible desert, and dreads the approach of all mortal men. The one
lives on the esteem and applause of men, the other glories in injuries offered
to it, and in persecutions.
CHAPTER XII.
What is our free will, which stands in between the lust of the
flesh and the spirit.
BETWEEN these two desires then the free will of the soul stands in an
intermediate position somewhat worthy of blame, and neither delights in the
excesses of sin, nor acquiesces in the sorrows of virtue. Seeking to restrain
itself from carnal passions in such a way as not nevertheless to be willing to
undergo the requisite suffering, and wanting to secure bodily chastity without
chastising the flesh, and to acquire purity of heart without the exertion of
vigils, and to abound in spiritual virtues together with carnal ease, and to
attain the grace of patience without the irritation of contradiction, and to
practise the humility of Christ without the loss of worldly honour, to aim at
the simplicity of religion in conjunction with worldly ambition, to serve
Christ not without the praise and favour of men, to profess the strictness
which truth demands without giving the slightest offence to anybody: in a
word, it is anxious to pursue future blessings in such a way as not to lose
present ones. And this free will would never lead us to attain true
perfection, but would plunge us into a most miserable condition of
lukewarmness, and make us like those who are rebuked by the Lord's
remonstrance in the Apocalypse: "I know thy works, that thou art neither hot
nor cold. I would that thou wert hot or cold. But now thou art lukewarm, and I
will forthwith spue thee out of my mouth;"(1) were it not that these
contentions which rise up on both sides disturb and destroy this condition of
lukewarmness. For when we give in to this free will of ours and want to let
ourselves go in the direction of this slackness, at once the desires of the
flesh start up, and injure us with their sinful passions, and do not suffer us
to continue in that state of purity in which we delight, and allure us to that
cold and thorny path of pleasure which we have to dread. Again, if inflamed
with fervour of spirit, we want to root out the works of the flesh, and
without any regard to human weakness try to raise ourselves altogether to
excessive efforts after virtue, the frailty of the flesh comes in, and recalls
us and restrains us from that over excess of spirit which is bad for us: and
so the result is that as these two desires are contradicting each other in a
struggle of this kind, the soul's free will, which does not like either to
give itself up entirely to carnal desires, nor to throw itself into the
exertions which virtue calls for, is tempered as it were by a fair balance,
while this struggle between the two hinders that more dangerous free will of
the soul, and makes a sort of equitable balance in the scales of our body,
which marks out the limits of flesh and spirit most accurately, and does not
allow the mind inflamed with fervour of spirit to sway to the right hand, nor
the flesh to incline through the pricks of sin, to the left. And while this
struggle goes on day after day in us to our profit, we are driven most
beneficially to come to that fourth stage which we do not like, so as to gain
purity of heart not by ease and carelessness, but by constant efforts and
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contrition of spirit; to retain our chastity, of the flesh by prolonged
fastings, hunger, thirst, and watchfulness; to acquire purpose of heart by
reading, vigils, constant prayer and the wretchedness of solitude; to preserve
patience by the endurance of tribulation; to serve our Maker in the midst of
blasphemies and abounding insults; to follow after truth if need be amid the
hatred of the world and its enmity; and while, with such a struggle going on
in our body, we are secured from slothful carelessness, and incited to that
effort which is against the gain, and to the desire for virtue, our proper
balance is admirably secured, and on one side the languid choice of our free
will is tempered by fervour of spirit, and on the other the frigid coldness of
the flesh is moderated by a gentle warmth, and while the desire of the spirit
does not allow the mind to be dragged into unbridled licence, neither does the
weakness of the flesh allow the spirit to be drawn on to unreasonable
aspirations after holiness, lest in the one case incentives to all kinds of
sins might arise, or in the other the earliest of all sins might lift its head
and wound us with a yet more fatal dart of pride: but a due equilibrium will
result from this struggle, and open to us a safe and secure path of virtue
between the two, and teach the soldier of Christ ever to walk on the King's
highway. And thus the result will be that when, in consequence of the
lukewarmness arising from this sluggish will of which we have spoken, the mind
has been more easily entangled in carnal desires, it is checked by the desire
of the spirit, which by no means acquiesces in earthly sins; and again, if
through over much feeling our spirit has been carried in unbounded fervour and
towards ill-considered and impossible heights, it is recalled by the weakness
of the flesh to sounder considerations and rising above the lukewarm condition
of our free will with due proportion and even course proceeds along the way of
perfection. Something of this sort we hear that the Lord ordained in the case
of the building of that tower in the book of Genesis, where a confusion of
tongues suddenly sprang up, and put a stop to the blasphemous and wicked
attempts of men. For there would have remained there in opposition to God, aye
and against the interest of those who had begun to assail His Divine Majesty,
an agreement boding no good, unless by God's providence the difference of
languages, raising disturbances among them, had forced them because of the
variations of their words to go on to a better condition, and a happy and
valuable discord had recalled to salvation those whom a ruinous union had
driven to destruction, as when divisions arose they began to experience human
weakness of which when puffed up by their wicked plots they had hitherto known
nothing.
CHAPTER XIII.
Of the advantage of the delay which results from the struggle
between flesh and spirit.
BUT from the differences which this conflict causes, there arises a delay
that is so far advantageous to us, and from this struggle an adjournment that
is for our good, so that while through the resistance of the material body we
are hindered from carrying out those things which we have wickedly conceived
with our minds, We are sometimes recalled to a better mind either by penitence
springing up, or by some better thoughts which usually come to us when delay
in carrying out things, and time for reflection intervene. Lastly, those who,
as we know, are not prevented from carrying out the desires of their free will
by any hindrances of the flesh, I mean devils and spiritual wickednesses,
these, since they have fallen from a higher and angelical state, we see are in
a worse plight than men, much in as much as (owing to the fact that
opportunity is always present to gratify their desires) they are not delayed
from irrevocably performing whatever evil they have imagined because as their
mind is quick to conceive it, so their substance is ready and free to carry it
out; and while a short and easy method is given them of doing what they wish,
no salutary second thoughts come in to amend their wicked intention.
CHAPTER XIV.
Of the incurable depravity of spiritual wickednesses.
FOR a spiritual substance and one that is not tied to any material flesh
has no excuse for an evil thought which arises within, and also shuts out
forgiveness for its sin, because it is not harassed as we are by incentives of
the flesh without, to sin, but is simply inflamed by the fault of a perverse
will. And therefore its sin is without forgiveness and its weakness without
remedy. For as it falls through the allurements of no earthly matter, so it
can find no pardon or place for repentance. And from this we can clearly
gather that this struggle which arises in us of the flesh and spirit against
each other is not merely harmless, but actually extremely useful to us.
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CHAPTER XV.
Of the value of the lost of the flesh against the spirit in our case
To begin with, because it is an immediate reproof of our sloth and
carelessness, and like some energetic schoolmaster who never allows us to
deviate from the line of strict discipline, and if our carelessness has ever
so little exceeded the limits of due gravity which become it, it immediately
excites us by the stimulus of desire, and chides us and recalls us to due
moderation. Secondly, because, in the matter of chastity and perfect purity,
when by God's grace we see that we have been for some time kept from carnal
pollution, in order that we may not imagine that we can no longer be disturbed
by the motions of the flesh and thereby be elated and puffed up in our secret
hearts as if we no longer bore about the corruption of the flesh, it humbles
and checks us, and reminds us by its pricks that we are but men.(1) For as we
ordinarily fall without much thought into other kinds of sins and those worse
and more harmful, and are not so easily ashamed of committing them, so in this
particular one the conscience is especially humbled, and by means of this
illusion it is stung by the recollection of passions that have been neglected,
as it sees clearly that it is rendered unclean by natural emotions, of which
it knew nothing while it was still more unclean through spiritual sins; and so
coming back at once to the cure of its former sluggishness, it is warned both
that it ought not to trust in the attainments of purity in the past, which it
sees to be lost by ever so small a falling away from the Lord, and also that
it cannot attain the gift of this purity except by God's grace alone, since
actual experience somehow or other teaches us that if we are anxious to reach
abiding perfection of heart we must constantly endeavour to obtain the virtue
of humility.
CHAPTER XVI.
Of the excitements of the flesh, without the humiliation of which we should
fall more grievously.
To the fact then that the pride which results from this purity would be
more dangerous than all sins and wickednesses, and that we should on that
account gain no reward for any height of perfect chastity, we may call as
witnesses those powers of which we spoke before, which since it is believed
that they experience no such fleshly lusts, were cast down from their high and
heavenly estate in everlasting destruction simply from pride of heart. And so
we should be altogether hopelessly lukewarm, since we should have no warning
of carelessness on our part implanted either in our body or in our mind, nor
should we ever strive to reach the glow of perfection, or even keep to strict
frugality and abstinence, were it not that this excitement of the flesh
springs up and humbles us and baffles us and makes us keen and anxious about
purifying ourselves from spiritual sins.
CHAPTER XVII.
Of the lukewarmness of eunuchs.
LASTLY, on this account in those who are Eunuchs, we often detect the
existence of this lukewarmness of mind, because, as they are so to speak free
from the needs of the flesh, they fancy that they have no need either of the
trouble of bodily abstinence, or of contrition of heart; and being rendered
slack by this freedom from anxiety, they make no efforts either truly to seek
or to acquire perfection of heart or even purity from spiritual faults. And
this condition which is the result of their state in the flesh, becomes
natural, which is altogether a worse state. For he who passes from the state
of coldness to that of lukewarmness is branded by the Lord's words as still
more hateful.
CHAPTER XVIII.
The question what is the difference between the carnal and
natural man.
GERMANUS: You have, it seems to us, very clearly shown the value of the
struggle which is raised between the flesh and spirit, so that we can believe
that it can in a sort of way be grasped by us; and therefore we want to have
this also explained to us in the same way; viz., what is the difference
between the carnal and the natural man, or how the natural man can be worse
than the carnal.
CHAPTER XIX.
The answer concerning the threefold condition of souls.
DANIEL: There are, according to the statements of Scripture, three kinds
of souls; the first is the carnal, the second the natural, and
337
the third the spiritual: which we find are thus described by the Apostle. For
of the carnal he says: "I gave you milk to drink, not meat: for you were not
able as yet. But neither indeed are you now able; for you are yet carnal." And
again: "For whereas there is among you envying and contention, are you not
carnal?" (1) Concerning the natural he also speaks as follows: "But the
natural man perceiveth not the things that are of the spirit of God; for it is
foolishness to him." But concerning the spiritual: "But the spiritual man
judgeth all things: and he himself is judged by no man." (2) And again "You
who are spiritual instruct such ones in the spirit of meekness." (3) And so,
though at our renunciation we ceased to be carnal, i.e., we began to separate
ourselves from intercourse with those in the world, and to have nothing to do
with open pollution of the flesh, we must still be careful to strive with all
our might to attain forthwith a spiritual condition, lest haply we flatter
ourselves because we seem as far as the outer man is concerned to have
renounced this world and got rid of the defilement of carnal fornication, as
if by this we had reached the heights of perfection; and thence become
careless and indifferent about purifying ourselves from other affections, and
so being kept back between these two, become unable to reach the stage of
spiritual advancement; either because we think that it is amply sufficient for
our perfection if we seem to separate ourselves, as regards the outward man,
from intercourse with this world and from its pleasure, or because we are free
from corruption and carnal intercourse, and thus we find ourselves in that
lukewarm condition which is considered the worst of all, and discover that we
are spued out of the mouth of the Lord, in accordance with these words of His:
"I would that thou wert hot or cold. But now thou art lukewarm and I will
begin to spue thee out of My mouth." (4) And not without good reason does the
Lord declare that those whom he has previously received in the bowels of His
love, and who have become shamefully lukewarm, shall be spued out and rejected
from His bosom: in as much as, though they might have yielded Him some
health-giving subsistence, they preferred to be torn away from His heart: thus
becoming far worse than those who had never found their way into the Lord's
mouth as food, just as we turn away with loathing from that which nausea
compels us to bring up. For whatever is cold is warmed when received into
the mouth and is received with satisfaction and good results. But whatever has
been once rejected owing to its miserable luke-warmness, we cannot -- I will
not say touch with the lips -- but even look on from a distance without the
greatest disgust. Rightly then is he said to be worse, because the carnal man,
i.e., the worldly man and the heathen, is more readily brought to saving
conversion and to the heights of perfection than one who has been professed as
a monk, but has not, as his rule directs, laid hold on the way of perfection,
and so has once for all drawn back from that fire of spiritual fervour. For
the former is at last broken down by the sins of the flesh, and acknowledges
his uncleanness, and in his compunction hastens from carnal pollution to the
fountain of true cleansing, and the heights of perfection, and in his horror
at that cold state of infidelity in which he finds himself, he is kindled with
the fire of the spirit and flies the more readily to perfection. For one who
has, as we said, once started with a lukewarm beginning, and has begun to
abuse the name of monk, and who has not laid hold on the way of this
profession with the humility and fervour that he ought, when once he is
infected by this miserable plague, and is as it were unstrung by it, can no
longer of himself discern what is perfect nor learn from the admonitions of
another. For he says in his heart that which the Lord tells us: "Because I am
rich and wealthy and want nothing;" and so this which follows is at once
applied to him: "But thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind,
and naked:" (5) and he is so far in a worse condition than a worldly man,
because he has no idea that he is wretched or blind or naked or requires
cleansing, or needs to be directed and taught by any one; and on this account
he receives no sound advice as he does not realise that he is weighted with
the name of monk, and is lowered in the judgment of all, whereas, though
everybody believes him to be a saint and regards him as a servant of God, he
must hereafter be subjected to a stricter judgment and punishment. Lastly, why
should we any longer linger over those things which we have sufficiently
discovered and proved by experience? We have often seen those who were cold
and carnal, i.e., worldly men and heathen, attain spiritual warmth: but
lukewarm and "natural" men never. And these too we read in the prophet are
hated of the Lord, so that a charge is given to spiritual and learned men to
desist from warning and teaching them, and not to sow the seed of the
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life-giving word in ground that is barren and unfruitful and choked by noxious
thorns; but that they should scorn this, and rather cultivate fallow ground,
i.e., that they should transfer all their care and teaching, and their zeal in
the life-giving word to pagans and worldly men: as we thus read: "Thus saith
the Lord to the men of Judah and inhabitants of Jerusalem: break up your
fallow ground, and sow not among thorns." (1)
CHAPTER XX.
Of those who renounce the world but ill.
In the last place I am ashamed to say how we find that a large number have
made their renunciation in such a way that we find that they have altered
nothing of their former sins and habits, but only their state of life and
worldly garb. For they are eager in amassing wealth which they never had
before, or else do not give up that which they had, or which is still sadder,
they actually strive to augment it under this excuse; viz., that they assert
that it is right that they should always support with it their relations or
the brethren, or they hoard it under pretence of starting congregations which
they imagine that they can preside over as Abbots. But if only they would
sincerely seek after the way of perfection, they would rather endeavour with
all their might and main to attain to this: viz., that they might strip
themselves not only of their wealth but of all their former likings and
occupations, and place themselves unreservedly and entirely under the guidance
of the Elders so as to have no anxiety not merely about others, but even about
themselves. But on the contrary we find that while they are eager to be set
over their brethren, they are never subject to their EIders themselves, and,
with pride for their starting point, while they are quite ready to teach
others they take no trouble to learn themselves or to practise what they are
to teach: and so it is sure to end in their becoming, as the Saviour said,"
blind leaders of the blind "so that "both fall into the ditch." (2) And this
pride though there is only one kind of it, yet takes a twofold form. One form
continually puts on the appearance of seriousness and gravity, the other
breaks out with unbridled freedom into silly giggling and laughing. The former
delights in not talking: the latter thinks it hard to be kept to the restraint
of silence, and has no scruples about talking freely on matters that are
unsuitable and foolish, while it is ashamed to be thought inferior to or less
well informed than others. The one on account of pride seeks clerical office,
the other looks down upon it, since it fancies that it is unsuitable or
beneath its former dignity and life and the deserts of its birth. And which of
these two should be accounted the worse each man must consider and decide for
himself. At any rate the kind of disobedience is one and the same, if a man
breaks the Elder's commands whether it be owing to zeal in work, or to love of
ease: and it is as hurtful to upset the rules of the monastery for the sake of
sleep, as it is for the sake of vigilance, and it is just the same to
transgress the Abbot's orders in order to read, as it is to slight them in
order to sleep: nor is there any difference in the incentive to pride if you
neglect a brother, whether it is because of your fast or because of your
breakfast: except that those faults which seem to show themselves under the
guise of virtues and in the form of spirituality are worse and less likely to
be cured than those which arise openly and from carnal pleasures. For these
latter, like sicknesses which are perfectly plain and visible, are grappled
with and cured, while the former, since they are covered under the cloak of
virtue, remain uncured, and cause their victims to fall into a more dangerous
and deadly state of ill health.
CHAPTER XXI.
Of those who having made light of great things busy themselves about trifles.
For how can we show how absurd it is that we see that some men after their
first enthusiasm of renunciation in which they forsook their estates and vast
wealth and the service of the world, and betook themselves to the monasteries,
are still earnestly devoted to those things which cannot altogether be cut
off, and which we cannot do without in this state of life, even though they
are small and trifling things; so that in their case the anxiety about these
trifles is greater than their love of all their property. And it certainly
will not profit them much that they have disregarded greater riches and
property, if they have only transferred their affections (on account of which
they were to make light of them) to small and trifling things. For the sin of
covetousness and avarice of which they cannot be guilty in the matter of
really valuable things, they retain with regard to commoner matters, and so
show that they have
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not got rid of their former greed but only changed its object. For if they are
too careful about their mats, baskets, blankets, books, and other trifles such
as these, the same passion holds them captive as before. And they actually
guard and defend their rights over them so jealously as to get angry with
their brethren about them, and, what is worse, they are not ashamed to
quarrel over them. And being still troubled by the bad effects of their former
covetousness, they are not content to possess those things which the needs and
requirements of the body compel a monk to have, according to the common number
and measure, but here too they show the greediness of their heart, as they try
to have those things which they are obliged to use, better got up than the
others; or, exceeding all due bounds, keep as their special and peculiar
property and guard from the touch of others that which ought to belong to all
the brethren alike. As if the difference of metals, and not the passion of
covetousness was what mattered; and as if it was wrong to be angry about big
things, while one might innocently be about trifling matters: and as if we had
not given up all our precious things just in order that we might learn more
readily to think nothing about trifles! For what difference does it make
whether one gives way to covetousness in the matter of large and splendid
things, or in the matter of the merest trifles, except that we ought to think
a man so far worse if he has made light of great things and then is a slave to
little things? And so that sort of renunciation of the world does not attain
perfection of heart, because though it ranks as poverty it still keeps the
mind of wealth.
CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.
V. CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERAPION.
ON THE EIGHT PRINCIPAL FAULTS.
CHAPTER I.
Our arrival at Abbot Serapion's cell, and inquiry on the different kinds of
faults and the way to overcome them.
IN that assembly of Ancients and Elders was a man named Serapion, (1)
especially endowed with the grace of discretion, whose Conference I think it
is worth while to set down in writing. For when we entreated him to discourse
of the way to overcome our faults, so that their origin and cause might be
made clearer to us, he thus began.
CHAPTER II.
Abbot Serapion's enumeration of eight principal faults.
THERE are eight principal faults which attack mankind; viz., first
gastrimargia, which means gluttony, secondly fornication,
thirdly philargyria, i.e., avarice or the love of money, fourthly anger,
fifthly dejection, sixthly acedia, i.e., listlessness or low spirits,
seventhly cenodoxia, i.e., boasting or vain glory; and eighthly pride.
CHAPTER III.
Of the two classes of faults and their fourfold manner of acting
on us.
OF these faults then there are two classes. For they are either natural to
us as gluttony, or arise outside of nature as covetousness. But their manner
of acting on us is fourfold. For some cannot be consummated without an act
on the part of the flesh, as gluttony and fornication, while some can be
completed without any bodily act, as pride and vainglory. Some find the
reasons for their being excited outside us, as covetousness and anger; others
are aroused by internal feelings, as accidie (2) and dejection.
CHAPTER IV.
A review of the passions of gluttony and fornication and their
remedies.
AND to make this clearer not only by a short discussion to the best of my
ability, but by
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Scripture proof as well, gluttony and fornication, though they exist in us
naturally (for sometimes they spring up without any incitement from the mind,
and simply at the motion and allurement of the flesh) yet if they are to be
consummated, must find an external object, and thus take effect only through
bodily acts. For "every man is tempted of his own lust. Then lust when it has
conceived beareth sin, and sin when it is consummated begets death." (1) For
the first Adam could not have fallen a victim to gluttony unless he had had
material food at hand, and had used it wrongly, nor could the second Adam be
tempted without the enticement of some object, when it was said to Him: "If
Thou art the Son of God, command that these stones be made bread." (2) And it
is clear to everybody that fornication also is only completed by a bodily
act, as God says of this spirit to the blessed Job: "And his force is in his
loins, and his strength in the navel of his belly." (8) And so these two
faults in particular, which are carried into effect by the aid of the flesh,
especially require bodily abstinence as well as spiritual care of the soul;
since the determination of the mind is not in itself enough to resist their
attacks (as is sometimes the case with anger or gloominess or the other
passions, which an effort of the mind alone can overcome without any
mortification of the flesh); but bodily chastisement must be used as well, and
be carried out by means of fasting and vigils and acts of contrition; and to
this must be added change of scene, because since these sins are the results
of faults of both mind and body, so they can only be overcome by the united
efforts of both. And although the blessed Apostle says generally that all
faults are carnal, since he enumerates enmities and anger and heresies among
other works of the flesh, (4) yet in order to cure them and to discover their
nature more exactly we make a twofold division of them: for we call some of
them carnal, and some spiritual. And those we call carnal, which specially
have to do with pampering the appetites of the flesh, and with which it is so
charmed and satisfied, that sometimes it excites the mind when at rest and
even drags it against its will to consent to its desire. Of which the blessed
Apostle says: "In which also we all walked in time past in the desires of our
flesh, fulfilling the will of the flesh and of our thoughts, and were by
nature children of wrath even as the rest." (5) But we call those spiritual
which spring only from the impulse of the mind and
not merely contribute no pleasure to the flesh, but actually bring on it a
weakness that is harmful to it, and only feed a diseased mind with the food of
a most miserable pleasure. And therefore these need a single medicine for the
heart: but those which are carnal can only be cured, as we said, by a double
remedy. Whence it is extremely useful for those who aspire to purity, to begin
by withdrawing from themselves the material which feeds these carnal passions,
through which opportunity for or recollection of these same desires can arise
in a soul that is still affected by the evil. For a complicated disease needs
a complicated remedy. For from the body the object and material which would
allure it must be withdrawn, for fear lest the lust should endeavour to break
out into act; and before the mind we should no less carefully place diligent
meditation on Scripture and watchful anxiety and the withdrawal into solitude,
lest it should give birth to desire even in thought. But as regards other
faults intercourse with our fellows is no obstacle, or rather it is of the
greatest possible use, to those who truly desire to get rid of them, because
in mixing with others they more often meet with rebuke, and while they are
more frequently provoked the existence of the faults is made evident, and so
they are cured with speedy remedies.
CHAPTER V.
How our Lord alone was tempted without sin.
And so our Lord Jesus Christ, though declared by the Apostle's word to
have been tempted in all points like as we are, is yet said to have been
"without sin," (6) i.e., without the infection of this appetite, as He knew
nothing of incitements of carnal lust, with which we are sure to be troubled
even against our will and without our knowledge; (7) for the archangel thus
describes the manner of His conception: "The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee
and the power of the Most High
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shall overshadow thee: therefore that which shall be born of thee shall be
called holy, the Son of God." (1)
CHAPTER VI.
Of the manner of the temptation in which our Lord was
attacked by the devil.
For it was right that He who was in possession of the perfect image and
likeness of God should be Himself tempted through those passions, through
which Adam also was tempted while he still retained the image of God unbroken,
that is, through gluttony, vainglory, pride; and not through those in which he
was by his own fault entangled and involved after the transgression of the
commandment, when the image and likeness of God was marred. For it was
gluttony through which he took the fruit of the forbidden tree, vainglory
through which it was said "Your eyes shall be opened," and pride through which
it was said "Ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil." (2) With these three
sins then we read that the Lord our Saviour was also tempted; with gluttony
when the devil said to Him: "Command these stones that they be made bread:"
with vainglory: "If Thou art the Son of God cast Thyself down:" with pride,
when he showed him all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them and
said: "All this will I give to Thee if Thou wilt fall down and worship me:"
(3) in order that He might by His example teach us how we ought to vanquish
the tempter when we are attacked on the same lines of temptation as He was.
And so both the former and the latter are spoken of as Adam; the one being the
first for destruction and death, and the other the first for resurrection and
life. Through the one the whole race of mankind is brought into condemnation,
through the other the whole race of mankind is set free. The one was fashioned
out of raw and unformed earth, the other was born of the Virgin Mary. In His
case then though it was fitting that He should undergo temptation, yet it was
not necessary that He should fail under it. Nor could He who had vanquished
gluttony be tempted by fornication, which springs from superfluity and
gluttony as its root, with which even the first Adam would not have been
destroyed unless before its birth he had been deceived by the wiles of the
devil and fallen a victim to passion. And therefore the Son of God is not said
absolutely to have come "in the flesh of sin," but "in the likeness of
the flesh of sin," because though His was true flesh and He ate and drank and
slept, and truly received the prints of the nails, there was in Him no true
sin inherited from the fall, but only what was something like it. For He had
no experience of the fiery darts of carnal lust, which in our case arise even
against our will, from the constitution of our natures, but He took upon Him
something like this, by sharing in our nature. For as He truly fulfilled every
function which belongs to us, and bore all human infirmities, He has
consequently been considered to have been subject to this feeling also, that
He might appear through these infirmities to bear in His own flesh the state
even of this fault and sin. Lastly the devil only tempted Him to those sins,
by which he had deceived the first Adam, inferring that He as man would
similarly be deceived in other matters if he found that He was overcome by
those temptations by which he had overthrown His predecessor. But as he was
overthrown in the first encounter he was not able to bring upon Him the second
infirmity which had shot up as from the root of the first fault. For he saw
that He had not even admitted anything from which this infirmity might take
its rise, and it was idle to hope for the fruit of sin from Him, as he saw
that He in no sort of way received into Himself seeds or roots of it. Yet
according to Luke, who places last that temptation in which he uses the words
"If Thou art the Son of God, cast Thyself down," (4) we can understand this of
the feeling of pride, so that that earlier one, which Matthew places third, in
which, as Luke the evangelist says, the devil showed Him all the kingdoms of
the world in a moment of time and promised them to Him, may be taken of the
feeling of covetousness, because after His victory over gluttony, he did not
venture to tempt Him to fornication, but passed on to covetousness, which he
knew to be the root of all evils, (5) and when again vanquished in this, he
did not dare attack Him with any of those sins which follow, which, as he knew
full well, spring from this as a root and source; and so he passed on to the
last passion; viz., pride, by which he knew that those who are perfect and
have overcome all other sins, can be affected, and owing to which he
remembered that he himself in his character of Lucifer, and many others too,
had fallen from their heavenly estate, without temptation from any of the
preceding passions. In this order then which we have mentioned, which is the
one given by the evangelist Luke,
3
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there is an exact agreement between the allurements and forms of the
temptations by which that most crafty foe attacked both the first and the
second Adam. For to the one he said "Your eyes shall be opened;" to the other
"he showed all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them." In the one
case he said "Ye shall be as gods;" in the other, "If Thou art the Son of
God." (1)
CHAPTER VII.
How vainglory and pride can be consummated without any
assistance from the body.
And to go on in the order which we proposed, with our account of the way
in which the other passions act (our analysis of which was obliged to be
interrupted by this account of gluttony and of the Lord's temptation)
vainglory and pride can be consummated even without the slightest assistance
from the body. For in what way do those passions need any action of the flesh,
which bring ample destruction on the soul they take captive simply by its
assent and wish to gain praise and glory from men? Or what act on the part of
the body was there in that pride of old in the case of the above mentioned
Lucifer; as he only conceived it in his heart and mind, as the prophet tells
us: "Who saidst in thine heart: I will ascend into heaven, I will set my
throne above the stars of God. I will ascend above the heights of the clouds,
I will be like the most High." (2) And just as he had no one to stir him up to
this pride, so his thoughts alone were the authors of the sin when complete
and of his eternal fall; especially as no exercise of the dominion at which he
aimed followed.
CHAPTER VIII.
Of covetousness, which is something outside our nature, and of the difference
between it and those faults which are natural to us.
COVETOUSNESS and anger, although they are not of the same character (for
the former is something outside our nature, while the latter seems to have as
it were its seed plot within us) yet they spring up in the same way, as in
most instances they find the reasons for their being stirred in something
outside of us. For often men who are still rather weak complain that they have
fallen into these sins through irritation and the instigation of others, and
are plunged headlong into the
passions of anger and covetousness by the provocation of other people. But
that covetousness is something outside our nature, we can clearly see from
this; viz., that it is proved not to have its first starting point inside us,
nor does it originate in what contributes to keeping body and soul together,
and to the existence of life. For it is plain that nothing belongs to the
actual needs and necessities of our common life except our daily meat and
drink: but everything else, with whatever zeal and care we preserve it, is
shown to be something distinct from the wants of man by the needs of life
itself. And so this temptation, as being something outside our nature, only
attacks those monks who are but lukewarm and built on a bad foundation,
whereas those which are natural to us do not cease from troubling even the
best of monks and those who dwell in solitude. And so far is this shown to be
true, that we find that there are some nations who are altogether free from
this passion of covetousness, because they have never by use and custom
received into themselves this fault and infirmity. And we believe that the old
world before the flood was for long ages ignorant of the madness of this
desire. And in the case of each one of us who makes his renunciation of the
world a thorough one, we know that it is extirpated without any difficulty,
if, that is, a man gives up all his property, and seeks the monastic
discipline in such a way as not to allow himself to keep a single farthing.
And we can find thousands of men to bear witness to this, who in a single
moment have given up all their property, and have so thoroughly eradicated
this passion as not to be in the slightest degree troubled by it afterwards,
though all their life long they have to fight against gluttony, and cannot be
safe from it without striving with the utmost watchfulness of heart and bodily
abstinence.
CHAPTER IX.
How dejection and accidie generally arise without any external provocation, as
in the case of other faults. (3)
DEJECTION and accidie generally arise without any external provocation,
like those others of which we have been speaking: for we are well aware that
they often harass solitaries, and those who have settled themselves in the
desert without any intercourse with
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other men, and this in the most distressing way. And the truth of this any one
who has lived in the desert and made trial of the conflicts of the inner man,
can easily prove by experience.
CHAPTER X.
How six of these faults are related, and the two which differ
from them are akin to one another.
OF these eight faults then, although they are different in their origin
and in their way of affecting us, yet the six former; viz., gluttony,
fornication, covetousness, anger, dejection, accidie, have a sort of connexion
with each other, and are, so to speak, linked together in a chain, so that any
excess of the one forms a starting point for the next. For from superfluity of
gluttony fornication is sure to spring, and from fornication covetousness,
from covetousness anger, from anger, dejection, and from dejection, accidie.
And so we must fight against them in the same way, and with the same methods:
and having overcome one, we ought always to enter the lists against the next.
For a tall and spreading tree of a noxious kind will the more easily be made
to wither if the roots on
which it depends have first been laid bare or cut; and a pond of water which
is dangerous will be dried up at once if the spring and flowing channel which
produce it are carefully stopped up. Wherefore in order to overcome accidie,
you must first get the better
of dejection: in order to get rid of dejection, anger must first be expelled:
in order to quell anger, covetousness must be trampled under foot: in order to
root out covetousness, fornication must be checked: and in order to destroy
fornication, you must chastise the sin of gluttony. But the two remaining
faults; viz., vainglory and pride, are connected together in a somewhat
similar way as the others of which we have spoken, so that the growth of the
one makes a starting point for the other (for superfluity of vainglory
produces an incentive to pride); but they are altogether different from the
six former faults, and are not joined in the same category with them, since
not only is there no opportunity given for them to spring up from these, but
they are actually aroused in an entirely different way and manner. For when
these others have been eradicated these latter flourish the more vigorously,
and from the death of the others they shoot forth and grow up all the
stronger: and therefore we are attacked by these two faults in quite a
different way. For we fall into each one of those six faults at the
moment when we have been overcome by the ones that went before them; but into
these two we are in danger of falling when we have proved victorious, and
above all after some splendid triumph. In the cases then of all faults just as
they spring up from the growth of those that go before them, so are they
eradicated by getting rid of the earlier ones. And in this way in order that
pride may be driven out vainglory must be stifled, and so if we always
overcome the earlier ones, the later ones will be checked; and through the
extermination of those that lead the way, the rest of our passions will die
down without difficulty. And though these eight faults of which we have spoken
are connected and joined together in the way which we have shown, yet they may
be more exactly divided into four groups and sub-divisions. For to gluttony
fornication is linked by a special tie: to covetousness anger, to dejection
accidie, and to vainglory pride is closely allied.
CHAPTER XI.
Of the origin and character of each of these faults. AND now, to speak about
each kind of
fault separately: of gluttony there are three sorts: (I) that which drives a
monk to eat before the proper and stated times; (2) that which cares about
filling the belly and gorging it with all kinds of food, and (3) that which is
on the lookout for dainties and
delicacies. And these three sorts give a monk no little trouble, unless he
tries to free himself from all of them with the same care and scrupulousness.
For just as one should never venture to break one's fast before the right time
so we must utterly avoid all greediness in eating, and the choice and dainty
preparation of our food: for from these three causes different but extremely
dangerous conditions of the soul arise. For from the first there springs up
dislike of the monastery, and thence there grows up disgust and intolerance
of the life there, and this is sure to be soon followed by withdrawal and
speedy departure from it. By the second there are kindled the fiery darts of
luxury and lasciviousness. The third also weaves the entangling meshes of
covetousness for the nets of its prisoners, and ever hinders monks from
following the perfect self-abnegation of Christ. And when there are traces of
this passion in us we can recognize them by this; viz., if we are kept to dine
by one of the brethren we are not content to eat our food with the relish
which he has prepared and offers to us, but take the unpar-
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donable liberty of asking to have something else poured. over it or added to
it, a thing which we should never do for three reasons: (I) because the
monastic mind ought always to be accustomed to practise endurance and
abstinence, and like the Apostle, to learn to be content in whatever state he
is. (1) For one who is upset by taking an unsavoury morsel once and in a way,
and who cannot even for a short time overcome the delicacy of his appetite
will never succeed in curbing the secret and more important desires of the
body; (2) because it sometimes happens that at the time our host is out of
that particular thing which we ask for, and we make him feel ashamed of the
wants and bareness of his table, by exposing his poverty which he would rather
was only known to God; (3) because sometimes other people do not care about
the relish which we ask for, and so it turns out that we are annoying most of
them while intent on satisfying the desires of our own palate. And on this
account we must by all means avoid such a liberty. Of fornication there are
three sorts: (I) that which is accomplished by sexual intercourse; (2) that
which takes place without touching a woman, for which we read that Onan the
son of the patriarch Judah was smitten by the Lord; and which is termed by
Scripture uncleanness: of which the Apostle says: "But I say to the unmarried
and to widows, that it is good for them if they abide even as I. But if they
do not contain let them marry: for it is better to marry than to burn;" (2)
(3) that which is conceived in heart and mind, of which the Lord says in the
gospel: "Whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath already committed
adultery with her in his heart." (3) And these three kinds the blessed Apostle
tells us must be stamped out in one and the same way. "Mortify," says he,
"your members which are upon the earth, fornication, uncleanness, lust, etc."
(4) And again of two of them he says to the Ephesians: "Let fornication and
uncleanness be not so much as named among you:" and once more: "But know this
that no fornicator or unclean person, or covetous person who is an idolater
hath inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God." (5) And just as these
three must be avoided by us with equal care, go they one and all shut us out
and exclude us equally from the kingdom of Christ. Of covetousness there are
three kinds: (I) That which hinders renunciants from allowing themselves of be
stripped of their goods and property; (2) that which draws us to resume with
excessive eagerness the possession of those things which we have given away
and distributed to the poor; (3) that which leads a man to covet and procure
what he never previously possessed. Of anger there are three kinds: one which
rages within, which is called in Greek qum<Sos;
another which breaks out in word and deed and action, which they term
oqgh: of which the Apostle speaks, saying "But now do ye lay
aside all anger and indignation;" (6) the third, which is not like those in
boiling over and being done with in an hour, but which lasts for days and long
periods, which is called mhnis. And all these three must be
condemned by us with equal horror. Of deflection there are two kinds: one,
that which springs up when anger has died down, or is the result of some loss
we have incurred or of some purpose which has been hindered and interfered
with; the other, that which comes from unreasonable anxiety of mind or from
despair. Of accidie there are two kinds: one of which sends those affected by
it to sleep; while the other makes them forsake their cell and flee away. Of
vainglory, although it takes various forms and shapes, and is divided into
different classes, yet there are two main kinds: (I) when we are puffed up
about carnal things and things visible, and (2) when we are inflamed with the
desire of vain praise for things spiritual and unseen.
CHAPTER XII.
How vainglory may be useful to us.
BUT in one matter vainglory is found to be a useful thing for beginners. I
mean by those who are still troubled by carnal sins, as for instance, if, when
they are troubled by the spirit of fornication, they formed an idea of the
dignity of the priesthood, or of reputation among all men, by which they maybe
thought saints and immaculate: and so with these considerations they repell
the unclean suggestions of lust, as deeming them base and at least unworthy of
their rank and reputation; and so by means of a smaller evil they overcome a
greater one. For it is better for a man to be troubled by the sin of vainglory
than for him to fall into the desire for fornication, from which he either
cannot recover at all or only with great difficulty after he has fallen.
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And this thought is admirably expressed by
one of the prophets speaking in the person of God, and saying: "For My name's
sake I will remove My wrath afar off: and with My praise I will bridle thee
lest thou shouldest perish," (1) i.e., while you are enchained by the praises
of vainglory, you cannot possibly rush on into the depths of hell, or plunge
irrevocably into the commission of deadly sins. Nor need we wonder that this
passion has the power of checking anyone from rushing into the sin of
fornication, since it has been again and again proved by many examples that
when once a man has been affected by its poison and plague, it makes him
utterly indefatigable, so that he scarcely feels a fast of even two or three
days. And we have often known some who are living in this desert, confessing
that when their home was in the monasteries of Syria they could without
difficulty go for five days without food, while now they are so overcome with
hunger even by the third hour, that they can scarcely keep on their daily
fast to
the ninth hour. And on this subject there is a very neat answer of Abbot
Macarius (2) to one who asked him why he was troubled with hunger as early as
the third hour in the desert, when in the monastery he had often scorned food
for a whole week, without feeling hungry. "Because," said he, "here there is
nobody to see your fast, and feed and support you with his praise of you: but
there you grew fat on the notice of others and the food of vainglory." And of
the way in which, as we said, the sin of fornication is prevented by an attack
of vainglory, there is an excellent and significant figure in the book of
Kings, where, when the children of Israel had been taken captive by Necho,
King of Egypt, Nebuchadnezzar, King of Assyria, came up and brought them back
from the borders of Egypt to their own country, not indeed meaning to restore
them to their former liberty and their native land, but meaning to carry them
off to his own land and to transport them to a still more distant country than
the land of Egypt in which they had been prisoners. And this illustration
exactly applies to the case before us. For though there is less harm in
yielding to the sin of vainglory than to fornication, yet it is more difficult
to escape from the dominion of vainglory. For somehow or other the prisoner
who is carried off to a greater distance, will have more difficulty in
returning to his native land and the freedom of his fathers, and the prophet's
rebuke will be deservedly aimed at him: "Wherefore art thou grown old in a
strange country? (3) since a man is rightly said to have grown old in a
strange country, if he has not broken up the Found of his faults. Of pride
there are two kinds: (I) carnal, and (2) spiritual, which is the worse. For it
especially attacks those who are seen to have made progress in some good
qualities.
CHAPTER XIII.
Of the different ways in which all these faults assault us.
ALTHOUGH then these eight faults trouble all sorts of men, yet they do not
attack them all in the same way. For in one man the spirit of fornication
holds the chief place: wrath rides rough shod over another: over another
vainglory claims dominion: in an other pride holds the field: and though it is
clear that we are all attacked by all of them, yet the difficulties come to
each of us in very different ways and manners.
CHAPTER XIV.
Of the struggle into which we must enter against our faults,
when they attack us.
WHEREFORE we must enter the lists against these faults in such a way that
every one should discover his besetting sin, and direct his main attack
against it, directing all his care and watchfulness of mind to guard against
its assault, directing against it daily the weapons of fasting, and at all
times hurling against it the constant darts of sighs and groanings from the
heart, and employing against it the labours of vigils and the meditation of
the heart, and further pouring forth to God constant tears and prayers and
continually and expressly praying to be delivered from its attack. For it is
impossible for a man to win a triumph over any kind of passion, unless he has
first clearly understood that he cannot possibly gain the victory in the
struggle with it by his own strength and efforts, although in order that he
may be rendered pure he must night and day persist in the utmost care and
watchfulness. And even when he feels that he has got rid of this fault, he
should still search the inmost recesses of his heart with the same purpose,
and single out the worst fault which he can see among those still there, and
bring all the forces of the Spirit to bear against it in particular, and
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so by always overcoming the stronger passions, he will gain a quick and easy
victory over the rest, because by a course of triumphs the soul is made more
vigorous, and the fact that the next conflict is with weaker passion insures
him a readier success in the struggle: as is generally the case with those who
are wont to face all kinds of wild beasts in the presence of the kings of this
world, out of consideration for the rewards -- a kind of spectacle which is
generally called "pancarpus." (1) Such men, I say, direct their first assault
against whatever beasts they see to be the strongest and fiercest, and when
they have despatched these, then they can more easily lay low the remaining
ones, which are not so terrible and powerful. So too, by always overcoming the
stronger passions, as weaker ones take their place, a perfect victory will be
secured for us without any risk. Nor need we imagine that if any one grapples
with one fault in particular, and seems too careless about guarding against
the attacks of others, he will be easily wounded by a sudden assault, for this
cannot possibly happen. For where a man is anxious to cleanse his heart, and
has steeled his heart's purpose against the attack of any one fault, it is
impossible for him not to have a general dread of all other faults as well,
and take similar care of them. For if a man renders himself unworthy of the
prize of purity by contaminating himself with other faults, how can he
possibly succeed in gaining the victory over that one passion from which he is
longing to be freed? But when the main purpose of our heart has singled out
one passion as the, special object of its attack, we shall pray about it more
earnestly, and with special anxiety and fervour shall entreat that we may be
more. especially on our guard against it and so succeed in gaining a speedy
victory. For the giver of the law himself teaches us that we ought to follow
this plan in our conflicts and not to trust in our own power; as he says:
"Thou shalt not fear them because the Lord thy God is in the midst of thee, a
God mighty and terrible: He will consume these nations in thy sight by little
and little and by degrees. Thou wilt not be able to destroy them altogether:
lest perhaps the beasts of the earth should increase upon thee. But the Lord
thy God shall deliver them in thy sight; and shall slay them until they be
utterly destroyed." (2)
CHAPTER XV.
How we can do nothing against our faults without the help of God, and how we
should not be puffed up by victories over them.
AND that we ought not to be puffed up by victories over them he likewise
charges us; saying, "Lest after thou hast eaten and art filled, hast built
goodly houses and dwelt in them, and shalt have herds of oxen and flocks of
sheep, and plenty of gold and of silver, and of all things, thy heart be
lifted up and thou remember not the Lord thy God, who brought thee out of the
land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage; and was thy leader in the great
and terrible wilderness." (8) Solomon also says in Proverbs: "When thine enemy
shall fall be not glad, and in his ruin be not lifted up, lest the Lord see
and it displease Him, and He turn away His wrath from him," (4) i.e., lest He
see thy pride of heart, and cease from attacking him, and thou begin to be
forsaken by Him and so once more to be troubled by that passion which by God's
grace thou hadst previously overcome. For the prophet would not have prayed in
these words, "Deliver not up to beasts, O Lord, the soul that confesseth to
Thee," (5) unless he had known that because of their pride of heart some were
given over again to those faults which they had overcome, in order that they
might be humbled. Wherefore it is well for us both to be certified by actual
experience, and also to be instructed by countless passages of Scripture, that
we cannot possibly overcome such mighty foes in our own strength, and unless
supported by the aid of God alone; and that we ought always to refer the Whole
Of our victory each day to God Himself, as the Lord Himself also gives us
instruction by Moses on this very point: "Say not in thine heart when the Lord
thy God shall have destroyed them in thy sight: For my righteousness hath the
Lord brought me in to possess this land, whereas these nations are destroyed
for their wickedness. For it is not for thy righteousness, and the uprightness
of thine heart, that thou shalt go in to possess their lands: but because they
have done wickedly they are destroyed at thy coming in." (6) I ask what could
be said clearer in opposition to that impious notion and impertinence of ours,
in which we want to ascribe everything that we do to our own free will and our
own exertions? "Say not," he tells us, "in thine heart, when the Lord thy God
shall have destroyed them in thy sight: For my
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righteousness the Lord hath brought me in to possess this land." To those who
have their eyes opened and their ears ready to hearken does not this plainly
say: When your struggle with carnal faults has gone well for you, and you see
that you are free from the filth of them, and from the fashions of this world,
do not be puffed up by the success of the conflict and victory and ascribe it
to your own power and wisdom, nor fancy that you have gained the victory over
spiritual wickedness and carnal sins through your own exertions and energy,
and free will? For there is no doubt that in all this you could not possibly
have succeeded, unless you had been fortified and protected by the help of the
Lord.
CHAPTER XVI.
Of the meaning of the seven nations of whose lands lsrael took possession, and
the reason why they are sometimes spoken of as "seven," and sometimes as
"many."
THESE are the seven nations whose lands the Lord promised to give to the
children of lsrael when they came out of Egypt. And everything which, as the
Apostle says, happened to them "in a figure" (1) we ought to take as written
for our correction. For so we read: "When the Lord thy God shall have brought
thee into the land, which thou art going in to possess, and shall have
destroyed many nations before thee, the Hittite, and the Girgashites, and the
Amorite, the Canaanite, and the Perizzite, and the Hivite, and the Jebusite,
seven nations much more numerous than
thou art and much stronger than thou: and the Lord thy God shall have
delivered them to thee, thou shalt utterly destroy them." (2) And the reason
that they are said to be much more numerous, is that faults are many more in
number than virtues and so in the list of them the nations are reckoned as
seven in number, but when the attack upon them is spoken of they are set down
without their
number being given, for thus we read "And shall have destroyed many nations
before thee." For the race of carnal passions which springs from this
sevenfold incentive and root of sin, is more numerous than that of Israel. For
thence spring up murders, strifes, heresies, thefts, false witness, blasphemy,
surfeiting, drunkenness, back-biting, buffoonery, filthy conversation, lies,
perjury, foolish talking, scurrility, restlessness, greediness, bitterness,
clamour, wrath, contempt, murmuring, temptation, despair, and many other
faults, which it would take too long to describe. And if we are inclined to
think these small matters, let us hear what the Apostle thought about them,
and what was his opinion of them: "Neither murmur ye," says he, "as some of
them murmured, and were destroyed of the destroyer:" and of temptation:
"Neither let us tempt Christ as some of them tempted and perished by the
serpents." (3) Of backbiting: "Love not backbiting lest thou be rooted out."
(4) And of despair: "Who despairing have given themselves up to lasciviousness
unto the working of all error, in uncleanness." (5) And that clamour is
condemned as well as anger and indignation and blasphemy, the words of the
same Apostle teach us as clearly as possible when he thus charges us: "Let all
bitterness, and anger, and indignation, and clamour, and blasphemy be put away
from you with all malice," (6) and many more things like these. And though
these are far more numerous than the virtues are, yet if those eight principal
sins, from which we know that these naturally proceed, are first overcome, all
these at once sink down, and are destroyed together with them with a lasting
destruction. For from gluttony proceed surfeiting and drunkenness. From
fornication filthy conversation, scurrility, buffoonery and foolish talking.
From covetousness, lying, deceit, theft, perjury, the desire of filthy lucre,
false witness, violence, inhumanity, and greed. From anger, murders, clamour
and indignation. From dejection, rancor, cowardice, bitterness, despair. From
accidie, laziness, sleepiness, rudeness, restlessness, wandering about,
instability both of
mind and body, chattering, inquisitiveness. From vainglory, contention,
heresies, boasting and confidence in novelties. From pride, contempt, envy,
disobedience, blasphemy, murmuring, backbiting. And that all these plagues are
stronger than we, we can tell very plainly from the way in which they attack
us. For the delight in carnal passions wars more powerfully in our members
than does the
desire for virtue, which is only gained with the greatest contrition of heart
and body. But if you will only gaze with the eyes of the spirit on those
countless hosts of our foes, which the Apostle enumerates where he says: "For
we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against
powers, against the world-rulers of this darkness, against spiritual
wickedness in heavenly places," (7) and this which we find of the right-
3
48
eous man in the nineteenth Psalm: "A thousand shall fall beside thee and ten
thousand at thy right hand," (1) then you will clearly see that they are far
more numerous and more powerful than are we, carnal and earthly creatures as
we are, while to them is given a substance which is spiritual and incorporeal.
CHAPTER XVII.
A question with regard to the comparison of seven nations
with eight faults.
GERMANUS: How then is it that there are
eight faults which assault us, when Moses reckons the nations opposed to the
people of Israel as seven, and how is it well for us to take possession of the
territory of our faults?
CHAPTER XVIII.
SERAPION: Everybody is perfectly agreed that there are eight principal
faults which affect a monk. And all of them are not included in the figure of
the nations for this reason, because in Deuteronomy Moses, or rather the Lord
through him, was speaking to those who had already gone forth from Egypt and
been set free from one most powerful nation, I mean that of the Egyptians. And
we find that this figure holds good also in our case, as when we have got
clear of the snares of this world we are found to be free from gluttony, i.e.,
the sin of the belly and palate; and like them we have a conflict against
these seven remaining nations, without taking account at all of the one which
has been already overcome. And the land of this nation was not given to Israel
for a possession, but the command of the Lord ordained that they should at
once forsake it and go forth from it. And for this cause our fasts ought to be
made moderate, that there may be no need for us through excessive abstinence,
which results from weakness of the flesh and infirmity, to return again to the
land of Egypt, i.e., to our former greed and carnal lust which we forsook when
we made our renunciation of this world. And this has happened in a figure, in
those who after having gone forth into the desert of virtue again hanker after
the flesh pots over which they sat in Egypt.
CHAPTER XIX.
The reason why one nation is to be forsaken, while seven are
commanded to be destroyed.
BUT the reason why that nation in which the children of Israel were born,
was bidden
not to be utterly destroyed but only to have its land forsaken, while it was
commanded that these seven nations were to be completely destroyed, is this:
because however great may be the ardour of spirit, inspired by which we have
entered on the desert of virtues, yet we cannot possibly free ourselves
entirely from the neighbourhood of gluttony or from its service and, so to
speak, from daily intercourse with it. For the liking for delicacies and
dainties will live on as something natural and innate in us, even though we
take pains to cut off all superfluous appetites and desires, which, as they
cannot be altogether destroyed, ought to be shunned and avoided. For of these
we read "Take no care for the flesh with its desires." (2) While then we still
retain the feeling for this care, which we are bidden not altogether to cut
off, but to keep without its desires, it is clear that we do not destroy the
Egyptian nation but separate ourselves in a sort of way from it, not thinking
anything about luxuries and delicate feasts, but, as the Apostle says, being
"content with our daily food and clothing." (3) And this is commanded in a
figure in the law, in this way: "Thou shalt not abhor the Egyptian, because
thou wast a stranger in his land." (4) For necessary food is not refused to
the body without danger to it and sinfulness in the soul. But of those seven
troublesome faults we must in every possible way root out the affections from
the inmost recesses of our souls. For of them we read: "Let all bitterness and
anger and indignation and clamour and blasphemy be put away from you with all
malice:" and again: "But fornication and all uncleanness and covetousness let
it not so much as be named among you, or obscenity or foolish talking or
scurrility." (3) We can then cut out the roots of these faults which are
grafted into our nature from without while we cannot possibly cut off
occasions of gluttony. For however far we have advanced, we cannot help being
what we were born. And that this is so we can show not only from the lives of
little people like ourselves but from the lives and customs of all who have
attained perfection, who even when they have
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got rid of incentives to all other passions, and are retiring to the desert
with perfect fervour of spirit and bodily abnegation, yet still cannot do
without thought for their daily meal and the preparation of their food from
year to year.
CHAPTER XX.
Of the nature of gluttony, which may be illustrated by the
simile of the eagle.
An admirable illustration of this passion, with which a monk, however
spiritual and excellent, is sure to be hampered, is found in the simile of the
eagle. For this bird when in its flight on high it has soared above the
highest clouds, and has withdrawn itself from the eyes of all mortals and from
the face of the whole earth, is yet compelled by the needs of the belly to
drop down and descend to the earth and feed upon carrion and dead bodies. And
this clearly shows that the spirit of gluttony cannot be altogether extirpated
like all other faults, nor be entirely destroyed like them, but that we can
only hold down and check by the power of the mind all incentives to it and all
superfluous appetites.
CHAPTER XXI.
Of the lasting character of gluttony as described to some
philosophers.
FOR the nature of this fault was admirably expressed under cover of the
following puzzle by one of the Elders in a discussion with some philosophers,
who thought that they might chaff him like a country bumpkin because of his
Christian simplicity "My father," said he, "left me in the clutches of a great
many creditors. All the others I have paid in full, and have freed myself from
all their pressing claims; but one I cannot satisfy even by a daily payment."
And when they could not see the meaning of the puzzle, and urgently begged him
to explain it: "I was," said he," in my natural condition, encompassed by a
great many faults. But when God inspired me with the longing to be free, I,
renounced this world, and at the same time gave up all my property which I
had inherited from my father, and so I satisfied them all like pressing
creditors, and freed myself entirely from them. But I was never able
altogether to get rid of the incentives to gluttony. For though I reduce the
quantity of food which I take to the smallest possible amount, yet I cannot
avoid the force of its daily solicitations, but must be perpetually 'dunned'
by it, and be making as it were interminable payments by continually
satisfying it, and pay never ending toll at its demand." Then they declared
that this man, whom they had till now despised as a booby and a country
bumpkin, had thoroughly grasped the first principles of philosophy, i.e.,
training in ethics, and they marvelled that he could by the light of nature
have learnt that which no schooling in this world could have taught him, while
they themselves with all their efforts and long course of training had not
learnt this. This is enough on gluttony in particular. Now let us return to
the discourse in which we had begun to consider the general relation of our
faults to each other.
CHAPTER XXII.
How it was that God foretold to Abraham that Israel would
have to drive out ten nations.
WHEN the Lord was speaking with Abraham about the future (a point which
you did not ask about) we find that He did not enumerate seven nations, but
ten, whose land He promised to give to his seed. (1) And this number is
plainly made up by adding idolatry, and blasphemy, to whose dominion, before
the knowledge of God and the grace of Baptism, both the irreligious hosts of
the Gentiles and blasphemous ones of the Jews were subject, while they dwelt
in a spiritual Egypt. But when a man has made his renunciation and come forth
from thence, and having by God's grace conquered gluttony, has come into the
spiritual wilderness, then he is free from the attacks of these three, and
will only have to wage war against those seven which Moses enumerates.
CHAPTER XXIII.
HOw it is useful for us to take possession of their lands.
But the fact that we are bidden for our good to take possession of the
countries of those most wicked nations, may be understood in this way. Each
fault has its own especial corner in the heart, which it claims for itself in
the recesses of the soul, and drives out Israel, i.e., the contemplation of
holy and heavenly things, and never ceases to oppose them. For virtues cannot
possibly live side by side with faults. "For what participation hath
righteousness with unrighteousness? Or what fellowship hath light with
darkness?" (2) But as
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soon as these faults have been overcome by the people of Israel, i.e., by
those virtues which war against them, then at once the place in our heart
which the spirit of concupiscence and fornication had occupied, will be filled
by chastity. That which wrath had held, will be claimed by patience. That
which had been occupied by a sorrow that worketh death, will be taken by a
godly sorrow and one full of joy. That which had been wasted by accidie, will
at once be tilled by courage. That which pride had trodden down will be
ennobled by humility: and so when each of these faults has been expelled,
their places (that is the tendency towards them) will be filled by the
opposite virtues which are aptly termed the children of Israel, that is, of
the soul that seeth God: (1) and when these have expelled all passions from
the heart we may believe that they have recovered their own possessions rather
than invaded those of others.
CHAPTER XXIV.
How the lands from which the Canaanites were expelled, had
been assigned to the seed of Shem.
For, as an ancient tradition tells us, (2) these same lands of the
Canaanites into which the children of Israel were brought, had been formerly
allotted to the children of Shem at the division of the world, and afterward
the descendants of Ham wickedly invading them with force and violence took
possession of them. And in this the righteous judgment of God is shown, as He
expelled from the land of others these who had wrongfully taken possession of
them, and restored to those others the ancient property of their fathers which
had been assigned to their ancestors at the division of the world. And we can
perfectly well see that this figure holds good in our own case. For by nature
God's will assigned the possession of our heart not to vices but to virtues,
which, after the fall of Adam were driven out from their own country by the
sins which grew up, i.e., by the Canaanites; and so when by God's grace they
are by our efforts and labour restored again to it, we may hold that they have
not occupied the territory of another, but rather have recovered their own
country.
CHAPTER XXV.
Different passages of Scripture on the meaning of the eight
faults.
And in reference to these eight faults we also have the following in the
gospel: "But when the unclean spirit is gone out from a man, he walketh
through dry places seeking rest and findeth none. Then he saith, I will return
to my house from whence I came out: and coming he findeth it empty, swept, and
garnished: then he goeth and taketh seven other spirits worse than himself,
and they enter in and dwell there: and the last state of that man is made
worse than the first." (8) Lo, just as in the former passages we read of seven
nations besides that of the Egyptians from which the children of Israel had
gone forth, so here too seven unclean spirits are said to return beside that
one which we first hear of as going forth from the man. And of this sevenfold
incentive of sins Solomon gives the following account in Proverbs: "If thine
enemy speak loud to thee, do not agree to him because there are seven
mischiefs in his heart;" (4) i.e., if the spirit of gluttony is overcome and
begins to flatter you with having humiliated it, asking in a sort of way that
you would relax something of the fervour with which you began, and yield to it
something beyond what the due limits of abstinence, and measure of strict
severity would allow, do not you be overcome by its submission, nor return in
fancied security from its assaults, as you seem to have become for a time
freed from carnal desires, to your previous state of carelessness or former
liking for good things. For through this the spirit whom you have vanquished
is saying "I will return to my house from whence I came out," and forthwith
the seven spirits of sins which proceed from it will prove to you more
injurious than that passion which in the first instance you overcame, and will
presently drag you down to worse kinds of sins.
CHAPTER XXVI.
How when we have got the better of the passion of gluttony we must take pains
to gain all the other virtues.
WHEREFORE while we are practising fasting and abstinence, we must be
careful when we have got the better of the passion of gluttony never to allow
our mind to remain empty of the virtues of which we stand in need; but
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we should the more earnestly fill the inmost recesses of our heart with them
for fear lest the spirit of concupiscence should return and find us empty and
void of them, and should not be content to secure an entrance there for
himself alone, but should bring in with him into our heart this sevenfold
incentive of sins and make our last state worse than the first. For the soul
which boasts that it has renounced this world with the eight faults that hold
sway over it, will afterwards be fouler and more unclean and visited with
severer punishments, than it was when formerly it was at home in the world,
when it had taken upon itself neither the rules nor the name of monk. For
these seven spirits are said to be worse than the first which went forth, for
this reason; because the love of good things, i.e., gluttony would not be in
itself harmful, were it not that it opened the door to other passions; viz, to
fornication, covetousness, anger, dejection, and pride, which are clearly
hurtful in themselves to the soul, and domineering over it. And therefore a
man will never be able to gain perfect purity, if he hopes to secure it by
means of abstinence alone, i.e., bodily fasting, unless he knows that he ought
to practise it for this reason that when the flesh is brought low by means of
fasting, he may with greater ease enter the lists against other faults, as the
flesh has not been habituated to gluttony and surfeiting.
CHAPTER XXVII.
That our battles are not fought with our faults in the same order as that in
which they stand in the list.
BUT you must know that our battles are not all fought in the same order,
because, as we mentioned that the attacks are not always made on us in the
same way, each one of us ought also to begin the battle with due regard to the
character of the attack which is especially made on him so that one man will
have to fight his first battle against the fault which stands third on the
list, another against that which is fourth or fifth. And in proportion as
faults hold sway over us, and the character of their attack may demand, so we
too ought to regulate the order of our conflict, in such a way that the happy
result of a victory and triumph succeeding may insure our attainment of purity
of heart and complete perfection.
Thus far did Abbot Serapion discourse to us of the nature of the eight
principal faults, and so clearly did he expound the different sorts of
passions which are latent within us -- the origin and connexion of which,
though we were daily tormented by them, we could never before thoroughly
understand and perceive -- that we seemed almost to see them spread out before
our eyes as in a mirror.
CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.
VI. CONFERENCE OF ABBOT THEODORE. (1)
ON THE DEATH OF THE SAINTS.
CHAPTER I.
Description of the wilderness, and the question about the
death of the saints.
IN the district of Palestine near the village of Tekoa which had the
honour of producing the prophet Amos, (2) there is a vast desert which
stretches far and wide as far as Arabia and the dead sea, into which the
streams of Jordan enter and are lost, and where are the ashes of Sodom. In
this district there lived
for a long while monks of the most perfect life and holiness, who were
suddenly destroyed by an incursion of Saracen robbers: (3) whose bodies we
knew were seized upon with the greatest veneration (4) both by the Bishops of
the neighbourhood and by the whole populace
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of Arabia, and deposited among the relics of the martyrs, so that swarms of
people from two towns met, and made terrible war upon each other, and in their
struggle actually came to blows for the possession of the holy spoil, while
they strove among themselves with pious zeal as to which of them had the
better claim to bury them and keep their relics -- the one party boasting of
their vicinity to the place of their abode, the other of the fact that they
were near the place of their birth. But we were upset by this and being
disturbed either on our own account or on account of some of the brethren who
were in no small degree scandalized at it, inquired why men of such
illustrious merits and of so great virtues should be thus slain by robbers,
and why the Lord permitted such a crime to be committed against his servants,
so as to give up into the hands of wicked men those who were the admiration of
everybody: and so in our grief we came to the holy Theodore, a man who
excelled in practical common sense. For he was living in Cellae, (1) a place
that lies between Nitria and Scete, and is five miles distant i from the
monasteries of Nitria, and cut off by eighty intervening miles of desert from
the wilderness of Scete where we were living. And when we had made our
complaint to him about the death of the men mentioned above, and expressed our
surprise at the great patience of God, because He suffered men of such worth
to be killed in this way, so that those who ought to be able by the weight of
their sanctity to deliver others from trials of this kind, could not save
themselves from the hands of wicked men (and asked) why it was that God
allowed so great a crime to be committed against his servants, then the
blessed Theodore replied.
CHAPTER II.
Abbot Theodore's answer to the question proposed to him.
This question often exercises the minds of those who have not much faith
or knowledge, and imagine that the prizes and rewards of the saints (which are
not given in this world, but laid up for the future) are bestowed in the short
space of this mortal life. But we whose hope in Christ is not only in this
life, for fear lest, as the Apostle says, we should be "of all men most
miserable" (2) (because as we receive none of the promises in this world we
should for our unbelief lose them also in that to come) ought not wrongly to
follow their ideas, lest through ignorance of the true real explanation, we
should hesitate and tremble and fail in temptation, if we find ourselves given
up to such men; and should ascribe to God injustice or carelessness about the
affairs of mankind -- a thing which it is almost a sin to mention -- because
He does not protect in their temptations men who are living an upright and
holy life, nor requite good men with good things and evil men with evil things
in this world; and so we should deserve to fall under the condemnation of
those whom the prophet Zephaniah rebukes, saying "who say in their hearts the
Lord will not do good, nor will He do evil:" (3) or at least be found among
those of whom we are told that they blaspheme God with such complaints as
this: "Every one that doeth evil is good in the sight of the Lord, and such
please Him: for surely where is the God of judgment?" (4) Adding further that
blasphemy which is described in the same way in what follows: "He laboureth in
vain that serveth God, and what profit is it that we have kept His
ordinances, and walked sorrowful before the Lord? Wherefore now we call the
proud happy, for they that work wickedness are enriched, and they have tempted
God, and are preserved." (5) Wherefore that we may avoid this ignorance which
is the root and cause of this most deadly error, we ought in the first place
to know what is really good, and what is bad, and so finally if we grasp the
true scriptural meaning of these words, and not the false popular one, we
shall escape being deceived by the errors of unbelievers.
CHAPTER III.
Of the three kinds of things there are in the world; viz., good
bad, and indifferent.
ALTOGETHER there are three kinds of things in the world; viz., good, bad,
and indifferent. And so we ought to know what is properly good, and what is
bad, and what is indifferent, that our faith may be supported by true
knowledge and stand firm in all temptations. We must then believe that in
things which
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are merely human there is no real good except virtue of soul alone, which
leads us with unfeigned faith to things divine, and makes us constantly adhere
to that unchanging good. And on the other hand we ought not to call anything
bad, except sin alone, which separates us from the good God, and unites us to
the evil devil. But those things are indifferent which can be appropriated to
either side according to the fancy or wish of their owner, as for instance
riches, power, honour, bodily strength, good health, beauty, life itself, and
death, poverty, bodily infirmities, injuries, and other things of the same
sort, which can contribute either to good or to evil as the character and
fancy of their owner directs. For riches are often serviceable for our good,
as the Apostle says, who charges "the rich of this world to be ready to give,
to distribute to the needy, to lay up in store for themselves a good
foundation against the time to come, that" by this means "they may lay hold on
the true life." (1) And according to the gospel they are a good thing for
those who "make to themselves friends of the unrighteous mammon." (2) And
again, they can be drawn in the direction of what is bad when they are amassed
only for the sake of hoarding them or for a life of luxury, and are not
employed to meet the wants of the poor. And that power also and honour and
bodily strength and good health are indifferent and available for either (good
or bad) can easily be shown from the fact that many of the Old Testament
saints enjoyed all these things and were in positions of great wealth and the
highest honour, and blessed with bodily strength, and yet are known to have
been most acceptable to God. And on the contrary those who have wrongfully
abused these things and perverted them for their own purposes are not without
good reason punished or destroyed, as the Book of Kings shows us has often
happened. And that even life and death are in themselves indifferent the birth
of S. John and of Judas proves. For in the case of the one his life was so
profitable to himself that we are told that his birth brought joy to others
also, as we read "And many shall rejoice at his birth;" (3) but of the life of
the other it is said: "It were good for that man if he had never been born."
(4) Further it is said of the death of John and of all saints "Right dear in
the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints:" (5) but of that of Judas
and men like him "The death of the wicked is very evil." (6) And how useful
bodily sickness sometimes may be the blessing on Lazarus, the beggar who was
full of sores, shows us. For Scripture makes mention of no other good
qualities or deserts of his, but it was for this fact alone; viz., that he
endured want and bodily sickness with the utmost
patience, that he was deemed worthy of the blessed lot of a place in Abraham's
bosom. (7) And with regard to want and persecution and injuries which
everybody thinks to be bad, how useful and necessary they are is clearly
proved by this fact; viz., that the saints not only never tried to avoid them,
but actually either sought them with all their powers or bravely endured them,
and thus became the friends of God, and obtained the reward of eternal life,
as the blessed Apostle chants: "For which cause I delight myself in my
infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for
Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong, for power is made perfect in
infirmity." (8) And therefore those who are exalted with the greatest riches
and honours and powers of this world, should not be deemed to have secured
their chief good out of them (for this is shown to consist only in virtue) but
only something indifferent, because just as to good men who use them well and
properly they will be found to be useful and convenient (for they afford them
opportunities for good works and fruits which shall endure to eternal life),
so to those who wrongfully abuse their wealth, they are useless and out of
place, and furnish occasions of sin and death.
CHAPTER IV.
How evil cannot be forced on any one by another against
his will.
PRESERVING then these distinctions clear and fixed, and knowing that there
is nothing good except virtue alone, and nothing bad except sin alone and
separation from God, let us now carefully consider whether God ever allows
evil to be forced on his saints either by Himself or by some one else. And you
will certainly find that this never happens. For another can never possibly
force the evil of sin upon anyone, who does not consent and who resists, but
only on one who admits it into himself through sloth and the corrupt desire of
his heart. Finally, when the devil having exhausted all his wicked devices had
tried to force upon the blessed Job this evil of sin, and had not only
stripped him of all his worldly goods, but also after that terrible and
3
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utterly unlooked for calamity of bereavement through the death of his seven
children, had heaped upon him dreadful wounds and intolerable tortures from
the crown of his head to the sole of his foot, he tried in vain to fasten on
him the stain of sin, because he remained steadfast through it all, never
brought himself to consent to blasphemy.
CHAPTER V.
An objection, how God Himself can be said to create evil.
GERMANUS: We often read in holy Scripture that God has created evil or
brought it upon men, as is this passage: "There is none beside Me. I am the
Lord, and there is none else: I form the light and create darkness, I make
peace, and create evil." (1) And again: "Shall there be evil in a city which
the Lord hath not done?" (2)
CHAPTER VI.
The answer to the question proposed.
THEODORE: Sometimes holy Scripture is wont by an improper use of terms to
use "evils "for "affliction;" not that these are properly and in their nature
evils, but because they are imagined to be evils by those on whom they are
brought for their good. For when divine judgment is reasoning with men it must
speak with the language and feelings of men. For when a doctor for the sake of
health with good reason either cuts or cauterizes those who are suffering from
the inflammation of ulcers, it is considered an evil by those who have to bear
it. Nor are the spur and the whip pleasant to a restive horse. Moreover all
chastisement seems at the moment to be a bitter thing to those who are
chastised, as the Apostle says: "Now all chastisement for the present indeed
seemeth not to bring with it joy but sorrow; but afterwards it will yield to
them that are exercised by it most peaceable fruits of righteousness," and
"whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom He
receiveth: for what son is there whom the father doth not correct?" (3) And so
evils are sometimes wont to stand for afflictions, as where we read: "And God
repented of the evil which He had said that He would do to them and He did it
not." (4) And again: "For Thou, Lord, are gracious and merciful, patient and
very merciful and ready to repent of the evil," (5) i.e., of the sufferings
and losses which Thou art forced to bring upon us as the reward of our sins.
And another prophet, knowing that these are profitable to some men, and
certainly not through any jealousy of their safety, but with an eye to their
good, prays thus: "Add evils to them, O Lord, add evils to the haughty ones of
the earth;" (6) and the Lord Himself says "Lo, I will bring evils upon them,"
(7) i.e., sorrows, and losses, with which they shall for the present be
chastened for their soul's health, and so shall be at length driven to return
and hasten back to Me whom in their prosperity they scorned. And so that these
are originally evil we cannot possibly assert: for to many they conduce to
their good and offer the occasions of eternal bliss, and therefore (to return
to the question raised) all those things, which are thought to be brought upon
us as evils by our enemies or by any other people, should not be counted as
evils, but as things indifferent. For in the end they will not be what he
thinks, who brought them upon us in his rage and fury, but what he makes them
who endures them. And so when death has been brought upon a saint, we ought
not to think that an evil has happened to him but a thing indifferent; which
is an evil to a wicked man, while to the good it is rest and freedom from
evils. "For death is rest to a man whose way is hidden." (8) And so a good man
does not suffer any loss from it, because he suffers nothing strange, but by
the crime of an enemy he only receives (and not without the reward of eternal
life) that which would have happened to him in the course of nature, and pays
the debt of man's death, which must be paid by an inevitable law, with the
interest of a most fruitful passion, and the recompense of a great reward.
CHAPTER VII.
A question whether the man who causes the death of a good man is guilty, if
the good man is the gainer by his death.
GERMANUS: Well then, if a good man does not only suffer no evil by being
killed, but actually gains a reward from his suffering, how can we accuse
the man who has done him no harm but good by killing him?
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CHAPTER VIII.
The answer to the foregoing question.
THEODORE: We are talking about the actual qualities of things good and
bad, and what we call indifferent; and not about the characters of the men who
do these things. Nor ought any bad or wicked man to go unpunished because his
evil deed was not able to do harm to a good man. For the endurance and
goodness of a righteous man are of no profit to the man who is the cause of
his death or suffering, but only to him who patiently endures what is
inflicted on him. And so the one is justly punished for savage cruelty,
because he meant to injure him, while the other nevertheless suffers no evil,
because in the goodness of his heart he patiently endures his temptation and
sufferings, and so causes all those things, which were inflicted upon him with
evil, intent, to turn out to his advantage, and to conduce to the bliss of
eternal life.
CHAPTER IX.
The case of Job who was tempted by the devil i and of the Lord who was
betrayed by Judas: and how prosperity as well as adversity is advantageous to
a good man.
FOR the patience of Job did not bring any gain to the devil, through
making him a better man by his temptations, but only to lob himself who
endured them bravely; nor was Judas granted freedom from eternal punishment,
because his act of betrayal contributed to the salvation of mankind. For we
must not regard the result of the deed, but the purpose of the doer. Wherefore
we should always cling to this assertion; viz., that evil cannot be brought
upon a man by another, unless a man has admitted it by his sloth or feebleness
of heart: as the blessed Apostle confirms this opinion of ours in a verse of
Scripture: "But we know that all things work together for good to them that
love God."(1) But by saying "All things work together for good," he includes
everything alike, not only things fortunate, but also those which seem to be
misfortunes: through which the Apostle tells us in another place that he
himself has passed, when he says: "By the amour of righteousness on the right
hand and on the left," i.e.," Through honour and dishonour, through evil
report and good
report, as deceivers and yet true, as sorrowful but always rejoicing, as needy
and yet enriching many:"(2) All those things then which are considered
fortunate, and are called those "on the right hand," which the holy Apostle
designates by the terms honour and good report; and those too which are
counted misfortunes, which he clearly means by dishonour and evil report, and
which he describes as "on the left hand," become to the perfect man "the
armour of righteousness," if when they are brought upon him, he bears them
bravely: because, as he fights with these, and uses those very weapons with
which he seems to be attacked, and is protected by them as by bow and sword
and stout shield against those who bring these things upon him, he secures the
advantage of his patience and goodness, and obtains a grand triumph of
steadfastness by means of those very weapons of his enemies which are hurled
against him to kill him; and if only he is not elated by success or cast down
by failure, but ever marches straightforward on the king's highway, and does
not swerve from that state of tranquillity as it were to the right hand, when
joy overcomes him, nor let himself be driven so to speak to the left hand,
when misfortunes overwhelm him, and sorrow holds sway. For "Much peace have
they that love Thy law, and to them there is no stumbling block."(3) But of
those who shift about according to the character and changes of the several
chances which happen to them, we read: "But a fool will change like the
moon."(4) For just as it is said of men who are perfect and wise: "To them
that love God all things work together for good,"(5) so of those who are weak
and foolish it is declared that "everything is against a foolish man,"(6) for
he gets no profit out of prosperity, nor does adversity make him any better.
For it requires as much goodness to bear sorrows bravely, as to be moderate in
prosperity: and it is quite certain that one who fails in one of these, will
not bear up under the other. But a man can be more easily overcome by
prosperity than by misfortunes: for these sometimes restrain men against their
will and make them humble and through most salutary sorrow cause them to sin
less, and make them better: while prosperity puffs up the mind with soothing
but most pernicious flatteries and when men are secure in the prospect of
their happiness dashes them to the ground with a still greater destruction.
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CHAPTER X.
Of the excellence of the perfect man who is figuratively
spoken of as ambidextrous.
THOSE are they then who are figurately spoken of in holy Scripture as
amgoterodexion, i.e., ambidextrous, as Ehud is described in the
book of Judges "who used either hand as the right(1) hand." And this power we
also can spiritually acquire, if by making a right and proper use of those
things which are fortunate, and which seem to be "on the right hand," as well
as of those which are unfortunate and as we call it "on the left hand," we
make them both belong to the right side, so that whatever turns up proves in
our case, to use the words of the Apostle, "the armour of righteousness." For
we see that the inner man consists of two parts, and if I may be allowed the
expression, two hands, nor can any of the saints do without that which we call
the left hand: but by means of it the perfection of virtue is shown, where a
man by skilful use can turn both hands into right hands. And in order to make
our meaning clearer, the saint has for his right hand his spiritual
achievements, in which he is found when with fervent spirit he gets the better
of his desires and passions, when he is free from all attacks of the devil,
and without any effort or difficulty rejects and cuts off all carnal sins,
when he is exalted above the earth and regards all things present and earthly
as light smoke or vain shadows, and scorns them as what is about to vanish
away, when with an overflowing heart he not only longs most intensely for the
future but actually sees it the more clearly, when he is more effectually fed
on spiritual contemplations, when he sees heavenly mysteries more brightly
laid open to him, when he pours forth his prayers to God with greater purity
and readiness, when he is so inflamed with fervent of spirit as to pass with
the utmost readiness of soul to things invisible and eternal, so as scarcely
to believe that he any longer remains in the flesh. He has also a left hand,
when he is entangled in the toils of temptation, when he is inflamed with the
heat of desire for carnal lusts, when he is set on fire by emotion towards
rage and anger, when he is overcome by being puffed up with pride or
vainglory, when he is oppressed by a sorrow that worketh death, when l he is
shaken to pieces by the contrivances and attacks of accidie, and when he has
lost all spiritual warmth, and grows indifferent with a sort of lukewarmness
and unreasonable grief
so that not only is he forsaken by good and kindling thoughts, but actually
Psalms, prayer, reading, and retirement in his cell all pall upon him, and all
virtuous exercises seem by an intolerable and horrible loathing to have lost
their saviour. And when a monk is troubled in this way, then he knows that he
is attacked "on the left hand." Anyone therefore who is not at all puffed up
through the aid of vainglory by any of those things on the right hand which we
have mentioned, and who struggles manfully against those on the left hand, and
does not yield to despair and give in, but rather on the other hand seizes the
armour of patience to practise himself in virtue--this man can use both hands
as fight hands, and in each action he proves triumphant and carries off the
prize of victory from that condition on the left hand as well as that on the
fight. Such, we read, was the reward which the blessed Job obtained who was
certainly crawned (for a victory) on the right hand, when he was the father of
seven sons and walked as a rich and wealthy man, and yet offered daily
sacrifices to the Lord for their purification, in his anxiety that they might
prove acceptable and dear to God rather than to himself, when his gates stood
open to every stranger, when he was "feet to lame and eyes to blind,"(2) when
the shoulders of the suffering were kept warm by the wool of his sheep, when
he was a father to orphans and a husband to widows, when he did not even in
his heart rejoice at the fall of his enemy. And again it was the same man who
with still greater virtue triumphed over adversity on the left hand, when
deprived in one moment of his seven sons he was not as a father overcome with
bitter grief but as a true servant of God rejoiced in the will of his Creator.
When instead of being a wealthy man he became poor, naked instead of rich,
pining away instead of strong, despised and contemptible instead of famous and
honourable, and yet preserved his fortitude of mind unshaken, when, lastly,
bereft of all his wealth and substance he took up his abode on the dunghill,
and like some stern executioner of his own body scraped with a potsherd the
matter that broke out, and plunging his fingers deep into his wounds dragged
out on every side masses of worms from his limbs. And in all this he never
fell into despair and blasphemy, nor murmured at all against his Creator.
Moreover also so little was he overcome by such a weight of bitter temptations
that the cloak which out of all his former property remained to cover his
body, and which alone could be
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saved from destruction by the devil because he was clothed with it, he rent
and cast off, and covered with it his nakedness which he voluntarily endured,
which the terrible robber had brought upon him. The hair of his head too,
which was the only thing left untouched out of all the remains of his former
glory, he shaved and cast to his tormentor, and cutting off even that which
his savage foe had left to him he exulted over him and mocked him with that
celestial cry of his: "If we have received good at the hand of the Lord,
should we not also receive evil? Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and
naked shall I return thither. The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away; as
it hath pleased the Lord, so is it done; blessed be the name of the Lord."(1)
I should also with good reason call Joseph ambidextrous, as in prosperity he
was very dear to his father, affectionate to his brethren, acceptable to God;
and in adversity was chaste, and faithful to the Lord, in prison most kind to
the prisoners, forgetful of wrongs, generous to his enemies; and to his
brethren who were envious of him and as far as lay in their powers, his
murderers, he proved not only affectionate but actually munificent. These men
then and those who are like them are rightly termed
ampoterodexion, i.e., ambidextrous. For they can use either
hand as the right hand, and passing through those things which the Apostle
enumerates can fairly say: "Through the armour of righteousness on the right
hand and on the left, through honour and dishonour, through evil report and
good report etc." And of this right and left hand Solomon speaks as follows in
the Song of songs, in the person of the bride: "His left hand is under my
head, and his right hand shall embrace me."(2) And while this passage shows
that both are useful, yet it puts one under the head, because misfortunes
ought to be subject to the control of the heart, since they are only useful
for this; viz., to train us for a time and discipline us for our salvation and
make us perfect in the matter of patience. But the right hand she hopes will
ever cling to her to cherish her and hold her fast in the blessed embrace of
the Bridegroom, and unite her to him indissolubly. We shall then be
ambidextrous, when neither abundance nor want affects us, and when the former
does not entice us to the luxury of a dangerous carelessness, while the latter
does not draw us to despair, and complaining; but when, giving thanks to God
in either case alike, we gain one and the same advantage out of good and bad
fortune. And such that truly ambidextrous man, the teacher of the Gentiles,
testifies that he himself was, when he says: "For I have learnt in whatsoever
state I am, to be content therewith. I know both how to be brought low and I
know how to abound: everywhere and in all things I am instructed both to be
full and to De hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things
in Him which strengtheneth me."(3)
CHAPTER XI.
Of the two kinds of trials, which come upon us in a three-
fold way.
WELL then, though we say that trial is twofold, i.e., in prosperity and in
adversity, yet you must know that all men are tried in three different ways.
Often for their probation, sometimes for their improvement, and m some cases
because their sins deserve it. For their probation indeed, as we read that the
blessed Abraham and Job and many of the saints endured countless tribulations;
or this which is said to the people in Deuteronomy by Moses: "And thou shalt
remember all the way through which the Lord thy God hath brought thee for
forty years through the desert, to afflict thee and to prove thee, and that
the things that were in thy heart might be made known, whether thou wouldst
keep His Commandments or no:"(4) and this which we find in the Psalms: "I
proved thee at the waters of strife."(5) To Job also: "Thinkest thou that I
have spoken for any other cause than that thou mightest be seen to be
righteous?"(6) But for improvement, when God chastens his righteous ones for
some small and venial sins, or to raise them to a higher state of purity, and
delivers them over to various trials, that He may purge away all their unclean
thoughts, and, to use the prophet's word, the "dross," which he sees to have
collected in their secret parts, and may thus transmit them like pure gold, to
the judgment to come, as He allows nothing to remain in them for the fire of
judgment to discover when hereafter it searches them with penal torments
according to this saying: "Many are the tribulations of the righteous."(7)
And: "My son, neglect not the discipline of the Lord, neither be thou wearied
whilst thou art rebuked by Him. For whom the Lord loveth He chastiseth, and
scourgeth every son whom He receiveth. For what son is there whom the father
doth not correct? But if ye are without chastisement, whereof all are
partakers, then are ye bastards, and
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not sons."(1) And in the Apocalypse: "Those whom I love, I reprove and
chasten."(2) To whom under the figure of Jerusalem the following words are
spoken by Jeremiah, in the person of God: "For I will utterly consume all the
nations among which I scattered thee: but I will not utterly consume thee: but
I will chastise thee in judgment, that thou mayest not seem to thyself
innocent."(3) And for this life-giving cleansing David prays when he says:
"Prove me, O Lord, and try me; turn my reins and my heart."(4) Isaiah also,
well knowing the value of this trial, says "O Lord, correct us but with
judgment: not in Thine anger."(5) And again: "I will give thanks to thee, O
Lord, for thou wast angry with me: Thy wrath is turned away, and Thou hast
comforted me."(6) But as a punishment for sins, the blows of trial are
inflicted, as where the Lord threatens that He will send plagues upon the
people of Israel: "I will send the teeth of beasts upon them, with the fury of
creatures that trail upon the ground:"(7) and "In vain have I struck your
children: they have not received correction."(8) In the Psalms also: "Many are
the scourges of the sinners:"(9) and in the gospel: "Behold thou art made
whole: now sin no more, lest a worse thing happen unto thee."(10) We find, it
is true, a fourth way also in which we know on the authority of Scripture that
some sufferings are brought upon us simply for the manifestation of the glory
of God and His works, according to these words of the gospel: "Neither did
this man sin nor his parents, but that the works of God might be manifested in
him:"(11) and again: "This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of
God that the Son of God may be glorified by it."(12) There are also other
sorts of vengeance, with which some who have overpassed the bounds of
wickedness are smitten in this life, as we read that Dathan and Abiram or
Korah were punished, or above all, those of whom the Apostle speaks:
"Wherefore God gave them up to vile passions and a reprobate mind:"(13) and
this must be counted worse than all other punishments. For of these the
Psalmist says: "They are not in the labours of men; neither shall they be
scourged like other men."(14) For they
are not worthy of being healed by the visitation of the Lord which gives life,
and by plagues in this world, as "in despair they have given themselves over
to lasciviousness, unto the working of all error unto uncleanness,"(15) and as
by hardening their hearts, and by growing accustomed and used to sin they have
got beyond cleansing in this brief life and punishment in the present world:
men, who are thus reproved by the holy word of the prophet: "I destroyed some
of you, as God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah, and you were as a firebrand
plucked out of the burning: yet you returned not to Me, saith the Lord,"(16)
and Jeremiah: "I have killed and destroyed thy people, and yet they are not
returned from their ways."(17) And again: "Thou hast smitten them and they
have not grieved: Thou hast bruised them and they refused to receive
correction: they have made their faces harder than the rock, they have refused
to return."(18) And the prophet seeing that all the remedies of this life will
have been applied in vain for their healing, and already as it were despairing
of their life, declares: "The bellows have failed in the fire, the founder
hath melted in vain: for their wicked deeds are not consumed. Call them
reprobate silver, for the Lord hath rejected them."(19) And the Lord thus
laments that to no purpose has He applied this salutary cleansing by fire to
those who are hardened in their sins, in the person of Jerusalem crusted all
over with the rust of her sins, when He says: "set it empty upon burning
coals, that it may be hot, and the brass thereof may be melted; and let the
filth of it be melted in the midst thereof. Great pains have been taken, and
the great rust thereof is not gone out, no not even by fire. Thy uncleanness
is execrable: because I desired to cleanse thee, and thou art not cleansed
from thy filthiness."(20) Wherefore like a skilful physician, who has tried
all saving cures, and sees there is no remedy left which can be applied to
their disease, the Lord is in a manner overcome by their iniquities and is
obliged to desist from that kindly chastisement of His, and so denounces them
saying: "I will no longer be angry with thee, and thy jealousy has departed
from thee."(21) But of others, whose heart has not grown hard by continuance
in sin, and who do not stand in need of that most severe and (if I may so call
it) caustic remedy, but for whose salvation the instruction of the life-giving
word is suffi-
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cient--of them it is said: "I will improve them by hearing of their
suffering."(1) We are well aware that there are other reasons also of the
punishment and vengeance which is inflicted on those who have sinned
grievously--not to expiate their crimes, nor wipe out the deserts of their
sins, but that the living may be put in fear and amend their lives. And these
we plainly see were inflicted on Jeroboam the son of Nebat, and Baasha the son
of Ahiah, and Ahab and Jezebel, when the Divine reproof thus declares:
"Behold, I will bring evil upon thee, and will cut down thy posterity, and
will kill of Ahab every male, and him that is shut up and the last in Israel.
And I will make thy house like the house of Jeroboam the son of Nebat and like
the house of Baasha the son of Ahiah: for that which thou hast done to provoke
Me to anger, and for making Israel to sin. The dogs also shall eat Jezebel in
the field of Jezreel. If Ahab die in the city, the dogs shall eat him: but if
he die in the field the birds of the air shall eat him,"(2) and this which is
threatened as the greatest threat of all: "Thy dead body shall not be brought
to the sepulchre of thy fathers."(3) It was not that this short and momentary
punishment would suffice to purge away the blasphemous inventions of him who
first made the golden calves and led to the lasting sin of the people, and
their wicked separation from the Lord,--or the countless and disgraceful
profanities of those others, but it was that by their example the fear of
those punishments which they dreaded might fall on others also, who, as they
thought little of the future or even disbelieved in it altogether, would only
be moved by consideration of things present; and that owing to this proof of
His severity they might acknowledge that there is no lack of care for the
affairs of men, and for their daily doings, in the majesty of God on high, and
so through that which they greatly feared might the more clearly See in God
the rewarder of all their deeds. We find, it is true, that even for lighter
faults some men have received the same sentence of death in this world, as
that with which those men were punished who, as we said before, were the
authors of a blasphemous falling away: as happened in the case of the man who
gathered sticks on the Sabbath,(4) and in that of Ananias and Sapphira, who
through the sin of unbelief kept back some portion of their goods: not that
the guilt of their sins was equal, but because they were the first found out
in a new kind of transgression, and
so it was right that as they had given to others an example of sin, so also
they should give them an example of punishment and of fear, that anyone, who
should attempt to copy them, might know that (even if his punishment were
postponed in this life) he would be punished in the same way that they were at
the trial of the judgment hereafter. And, since in our desire to run through
the different kinds of trials and punishments we seem to have wandered
somewhat from our subject, on which we were saying that the perfect man will
always remain steadfast in either kind of trial, now let us return to it once
more.
CHAPTER XII.
How the upright man ought to be like a stamp not of wax but
of hard steel.
AND so the mind of the upright man ought not to be like wax or any other
soft material which always yields to the shape of what presses on it, and is
stamped with its form and impress and keeps it until it takes another shape by
having another seal stamped upon it; and so it results that it never retains
its own form but is turned and twisted about to correspond to whatever is
pressed upon it. But he should rather be like some stamp of hard steel, that
the mind may always keep its proper form and shape inviolate, and may stamp
and imprint on everything which occurs to it the marks of its own condition,
while upon it itself nothing that happens can leave an y mark.
CHAPTER XIII.
A question whether the mind can constantly continue in one
and the same condition.
GERMANUS: But can our mind constantly preserve its condition unaltered,
and always continue in the same state?
CHAPTER XIV.
The answer to the point raised by the questioner.
THEODORE: It is needful that one must either, as the Apostle says, "be
renewed in the spirit of the mind,"(5) and daily advance by "pressing forward
to those things which are before,"(6) or, if one neglects to do this, the sure
result will be to go back, and become
360
worse and worse. And therefore the mind cannot possibly remain in one and the
same state. Just as when a man, by pulling hard, is trying to force a boat
against the stream of a strong current he must either stem the rush of the
torrent by the force of his arms, and so mount to what is higher up, or
letting his hands slacken be whirled headlong down stream. Wherefore it will
be a clear proof of our failure if we find that we have gained nothing more,
nor should we doubt but that we have altogether gone back, whenever we find
that we have not advanced upwards, because, as I said, the mind of man cannot
possibly continue in the same condition, nor so long as he is in the flesh
will any of the saints ever reach the height of all virtues, so that they
continue unalterable. For something must either be added to them or taken away
from them, and in no creature can there be such perfection, as not to be
subject to the feeling of change; as we read in the book of Job: "What is man
that he should be without spot, and he that is born of a woman that he should
appear just? Behold among His saints none is unchangeable, and the heavens are
not pure in His sight."(1) For we confess that God only is unchangeable, who
alone is thus addressed by the prayer of the holy prophet "But Thou art the
same,"(2) and who says of Himself "I am God, and I change not,"(3) because He
alone is by nature always good, always full and perfect, and one to whom
nothing can ever be added, or from whom nothing can be taken away. And so we
ought always with incessant care and anxiety to give ourselves up to the
acquirement of virtue, and constantly to occupy ourselves with the practice of
it, lest, if we cease to go forward, the result should immediately be a going
back. For, as we said, the mind cannot continue in one and the same condition,
I mean without receiving addition to or diminution of its good qualities. For
to fail to gain new ones, is to lose them, because when the desire of making
progress ceases, there the danger of going back is present.
CHAPTER XV.
How one loses by going away from one's cell.
AND so we ought always to remain shut up in our cell. For whenever a man
has strayed from it and returns fresh to it and begins again to live there he
will be upset and disturbed. For if he has let it go he cannot without
difficulty and pains recover that fixed purpose of mind, which he had gained
when he remained in his cell; and as through this he has gone back, he will
not think anything of the advance which he has missed, and which he would have
secured if he had not allowed himself to leave his cell, but he will rather
congratulate himself if he finds that he has regained that condition from
which he fell away. For just as time once lost and gone cannot any more be
recovered, so neither can those advantages which have been missed be restored:
for whatever earnest purpose of the mind there may be afterwards, it will be
the profit of the day then present, and the gain that belongs to the time that
then is, and will not make up for the gain that has been once for all lost.
CHAPTER XVI.
How even celestial powers above are capable of change.
BUT that even the powers above are, as we said, subject to change is shown
by those who fell from their ranks through the fault of a corrupt will.
Wherefore we ought not to think that the nature of those is unchangeable, who
remain in the blessed condition in which they were created, simply because
they were not in like manner led astray to choose the worse part. For it is
one thing to have a nature incapable of change, and another thing for a man
through the efforts of his virtue, and by guarding what is good through the
grace of the unchangeable God, to be kept from change. For everything that is
secured or preserved by care, can also be lost by carelessness. And so we
read: "Call no man blessed before his death,"(4) because so long as a man is
still engaged in the struggle, and if I may use the expression, still
wrest-ling--even though he generally conquers and carries off many prizes of
victory,--yet he can never be free from fear, and from the suspicion of an
uncertain issue. And therefore God alone is called unchangeable and good, as
His goodness is not the result of effort, but a natural possession, and so He
cannot be anything but good. No virtue then can be acquired by man without the
possibility of change, but in order that when it once exists it may be
continually preserved, it must be watched over with the same care and
diligence with which it was acquired.
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CHAPTER XVII.
That no one is dashed to the ground by a sudden fall.
But we must not imagine that anyone slips and comes to grief by a sudden
fall, but that he falls by a hopeless collapse either from being deceived by
beginning his training badly, or from the good qualities of his soul failing
through a long course of carelessness of mind, and so his faults gaining
ground upon him little by little. For "loss goeth before destruction, and an
evil thought before a fall,"(1) just as no house ever fails to the ground by a
sudden collapse, but only when there is some flaw of long standing in the
foundation, or when by long continued neglect of its inmates, what was at
first only a little drip finds its way through, and so the protecting wails
are by degrees ruined, and in consequence of long standing neglect the gap
becomes larger, and break away, and in time the drenching storm and rain pours
in like a river: for "by slothfulness a building is cast down, and through the
weakness of hands the house shall drop through,"(2) And that the same thing
happens spiritually to the soul the same Solomon thus tells us in other words,
when he says: "water dripping drives a man out of the house. on a stormy
day."(4) Elegantly then does he compare carelessness of mind to a roof, and to
tiles that have not been looked after, through which in the first instance
only very slight drippings (so to speak) of the passions make their way to the
soul: but if these are not heeded, as being but small and trifling, then the
beams of virtues will decay and be carried away by a great tempest of sins,
through which "on a stormy day," i.e., in the time of temptation, the devil's
attack will assail us, and the soul will be driven forth from the abode of
virtue, in which, as long as it preserved all watchful diligence, it had
remained as in a house that belonged to it.
And so when we had heard this, we were so immensely delighted with our
spiritual repast, that the mental pleasure with which we were filled by this
conference outweighed the sorrow which we had experienced before from the
death of the saints. For not only were we instructed in things about which we
had been puzzled, but we also learnt from the raising of that question some
things, which our understanding had been too small for us to ask about.
CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.
CONFERENCE VII.
FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS.
ON INCONSTANCY OF MIND, AND SPIRITUAL WICKEDNESS.
CHAPTER I.
On the chastity of Abbot Serenus.(3)
As we desire to introduce to earnest minds the Abbot Serenus, a man of the
greatest holiness and continence, and one who answers like a mirror to his
name, whom we admired above all others with peculiar veneration, we think that
we only carry out our desire by the attempt to insert his conferences in our
book. To this man beyond all other virtues, which shone forth not merely in
his actions and manners, but by God's grace in his very look as well, there
was granted by a special blessing the gift of continence, so that he never
felt himself disturbed even by natural incitements even in sleep. And how it
was that by the assistance of God's grace he attained such wondrous purity of
the flesh, as it seems beyond the conditions of human nature, I think that I
ought first of all to explain.
CHAPTER II.
The question of the aforesaid old man on the state of our
thoughts.
This man then in his prayers by day and night, and in fasts and vigils
unweariedly entreated for inward chastity of heart and soul, and seeing that
he had obtained what he wished and prayed for, and that all the passions of
carnal concupiscence in his heart were dead, was roused as it were by the
sweetest taste of purity, and inflamed by his zeal for
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chastity towards a yet more ardent desire, and began to apply himself to
stricter fasts and prayers that the mortification of this passion which by
God's grace had been granted to his inner man, might be extended also so as to
include external purity, to such an extent that he might no longer be affected
by any simple and natural movement, such as is excited even in children and
infants. And by the experience of the gift he had obtained, which he knew he
had secured by no merit of his labours, but by the grace God, he was the more
ardently stimulated to obtain this also in like manner, as he believed that
God could much more easily tear up by the roots this incitement of the flesh,
(which even by man's art and skill is sometimes destroyed by potions and
remedies or by the use of the knife) since He had of His own free gift
conferred that purity of spirit which is a still greater thing, and which
cannot be acquired by human efforts and exertions. And when with unceasing
supplications and tears he was applying himself unweariedly to the petition he
had commenced, there came to him an angel in a vision by night, and seemed to
open his belly, and to remove from his bowels a sort of fiery fleshly humour,
and to cast it away, and restore everything to its place as before; and "lo"
he said, "the incitements of your flesh are removed, and you may be sure that
you have this day obtained that lasting purity of body for which you have
faithfully asked." It will be enough thus briefly to have told this of the
grace of God which was granted to this famous man in a special way. But I deem
it unnecessary to say anything of those virtues which he possessed in common
with other good men, for fear lest that particular narrative on this man's
name might seem to deprive others of that which is specially mentioned of him.
Him therefore, as we were inflamed with the greatest eagerness for conference
with and instruction from him, we arranged to visit in Lent; and when he had
very quietly inquired of us of the character of our thoughts and the state of
our inner man, and what help we had got towards its purity from our long stay
in the desert, we approached him with these complaints:
CHAPTER III.
Our answer on the fickle character of our thoughts.
THE time spent here, and the dwelling in solitude, and meditation, through
which you think that we ought to have attained perfection of the inner man,
has only done this for us; viz., teach us that which we are unable to be,
without making us what we are trying to be. Nor do we feel that by this
knowledge we have acquired any fixed steadfastness of the purity which we long
for, or any strength and firmness; but only an increase of confusion and
shame: for though our meditation in all our discipline aims at this in our
daily studies, and endeavours from trembling beginnings to reach a sure and
unwavering skill, and to begin to know something of what originally it knew
but vaguely or was altogether ignorant of, and by advancing by sure steps (so
to speak) towards the condition of that discipline, to habituate itself
perfectly to it without any difficulty, I find on the contrary that while I am
struggling in this desire for purity, I have only got far enough to know what
I cannot be. And hence I feel that nothing but trouble results to me from all
this contrition of heart, so that matter for tears is never wanting, and yet I
do not cease to be what I ought not to be. And so what is the good of having
learnt what is best, if it cannot be attained even when known? for when we
have been feeling that the aim of our heart was directed towards what we
purposed, insensibly the mind returns to its previous wandering thoughts and
slips back with a more violent rush, and is taken up with daily distractions
and incessantly drawn away by numberless things that take it captive, so that
we almost despair of the improvement which we long for, and all these
observances seem useless. Since the mind which every moment wanders off
vaguely, when it is brought back to the fear of God or spiritual
contemplation, before it is established in it, darts off and strays; and when
we have been roused and have discovered that it has wandered from the purpose
set before it, and want to recall it to the meditation from which it has
strayed, and to bind it fast with the firmest purpose of heart, as if with
chains, while we are making the attempt it slips away from the inmost recesses
of the heart swifter than a snake. Wherefore we being inflamed by daily
exercises of this kind, and yet not seeing that we gain from them any strength
and stability in heart are overcome and in despair driven to this opinion;
viz., to believe that it is from no fault of our own but from a fault of our
nature that these wanderings of mind are found in mankind.
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CHAPTER IV.
The discourse of the old man on the state of the soul and its
excellence.
Serenus: It is dangerous to jump to a conclusion and lay down the law
hastily on the nature of anything before you have properly discussed the
subject and considered its true character. Nor should you, looking only at
your own weakness, hazard a conjecture instead of pronouncing a judgment based
on the character and value of the practice itself, and others' experience of
it. For if anyone, who was ignorant of swimming but knew that the weight of
his body could not be supported by water, wished from the proof which his
inexperience afforded, to lay down that no one composed of solid flesh could
possibly be supported on the liquid element, we ought not therefore to think
his opinion a true one, which he seemed to bring forward in accordance with
his own experience, since this can be shown to be not merely not impossible
but actually extremely easily done by others, by the clearest proofs and
ocular demonstration. And so the nous, i.e., the mind, is
defined as aeicinhtos cai
polucinhios, i.e., ever shifting and very shifting: as it is
thus described in the so called wisdom of Solomon in other words:
cai gewdes skhnos
briqei noun polufoontida, i.e.,"
And the earthly tabernacle weigheth down the mind that museth on many
things."(1) This then in accordance with its nature can never remain idle, but
unless provision is made where it may exercise its motions and have what will
continually occupy it, it must by its own fickleness wander about and stray
over all kinds of things until, accustomed by long practice and daily use--in
which you say that you have toiled without result--it tries and learns what
food for the memory it ought to prepare, toward which it may bring back its
unwearied flight and acquire strength for remaining, and thus may succeed in
driving away the hostile suggestion of the enemy by which it is distracted,
and in persisting in that state and condition which it yearns for. We ought
not then to ascribe this wandering inclination of our heart either to human
nature or to God its Creator. For it is a true statement of Scripture, that
"God made man upright; but they themselves found out many thoughts"(2) The
character of these then depends on us ourselves, for it says "a good thought
comes near to those that know it, but a prudent man will find it."(3) For
where anything is subject to our prudence and industry so that it can be found
out, there if it is not found out, we ought certainly to set it down to our
own laziness or carelessness and not to the fault of our nature. And with this
meaning the Psalmist also is in agreement, when he says: "Blessed is the man
whose help is from Thee: in his heart he hath disposed his ascents."(4) You
see then that it lies in our power to dispose in our hearts either ascents,
i.e., thoughts that belong to God, or descents; viz., those that sink down to
carnal and earthly things. And if this was not in our power the Lord would not
have rebuked the Pharisees, saying "Why do ye think evil in your hearts?"(5)
nor wou. He have given this charge by the prophet, saying: "Take away the evil
of your thoughts from mine eyes;" and "How long shall wicked thoughts remain
in you?"(6) Nor would the character of them as of our works be taken into
consideration in the day of judgment in our case as the Lord threatens by
Isaiah: "Lo, I come to gather together their works and thoughts together with
all nations and tongues;"(7) nor would it be right that we should be condemned
or defended by their evidence in that terrible and dreadful examination, as
the blessed Apostle says: "Their thoughts between themselves accusing or also
defending one another, in the day when God shall judge the secrets of men
according to my gospel."(8)
CHAPTER V.
On the perfection of the soul, as drawn from the comparison
of the Centurion in the gospel.
Of this perfect mind then there is an excellent figure drawn in the case
of the centurion in the gospel; whose virtue and consistency, owing to which
he was not led away by the rush of thoughts, but in accordance with his own
judgment either admitted such as were good, or easily drove away those of the
opposite character, are described in this tropical form: " For I also am a man
under authority, having soldiers under me: and I say to this man, Go, and he
goeth; and to another, Come, and he cometh; and to my servant, Do this, and he
doeth it."(9) If then we too strive manfully against disturbances and sins and
can bring them under our own control and discretion, and fight and destroy the
passions in our flesh, and bring under the sway of reason
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the swarm of our thoughts, and drive back from our breast the terrible hosts
of the powers opposed to us by the life-giving standard of the Lord's cross,
we shall in reward for such triumphs be promoted to the rank of that centurion
spiritually understood, who, as we read in Exodus, was mystically pointed to
by Moses: "Appoint for thee rulers of thousands, and of hundreds, and of
fifties and of tens."(1) And so we too when raised to the height of this
dignity shall have the same right and power to command, so that we shall not
be carried away by thoughts against our will, but shall be able to continue in
and cling to those which spiritually delight us, commanding the evil
suggestions to depart, and they will depart, while to good ones we shall say
"Come," and they will come: and to our servant also, i.e., the body we shall
in like manner enjoin what belongs to chastity and continence, and it will
serve us without any gainsaying, no longer arousing in us the hostile
incitements of concupiscence, but showing all subservience to the spirit. And
what is the character of the arms of this centurion, and for what use in
battle they are, hear the blessed Apostle declaring: "The arms," he says "of
our warfare are not carnal, but mighty to God." He tells us their character;
viz., that they are not carnal or weak, but spiritual and mighty to God. Then
he next suggests in what struggles they are to be used: "Unto the pulling down
of fortifications, purging the thoughts, and every height that exalteth itself
against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every understanding
unto the obedience of Christ, and having in readiness to avenge all
disobedience, when your obedience shall be first fulfilled."(2) And since
though useful, it yet belongs to another time to run through these one by one,
I only want you to see the different sorts of these arms and their
characteristics, as we also ought always to walk with them girt upon us if we
mean to fight the Lord's battles and to serve
among the centurions of the gospel. "Take," he says "the shield of faith,
wherewith ye may be able to quench all the fiery darts of the evil one."(3)
Faith then is that which intercepts the flaming darts of lust, and destroys
them by the fear of future judgment, and belief in the heavenly kingdom. "And
the breastplate," he says, "of charity."(4) This indeed is that which going
round the vital parts of the breast and protecting what is exposed to the
deadly wounds of swelling thoughts, keeps off the blows opposed to it, and
does not allow the darts of the devil to penetrate to our inner man. For it
"endureth all things, suffereth all things, beareth all things."(5) "And for
an helmet the hope of salvation."(6) The helmet is what protects the head. As
then Christ is our head, we ought always in all temptations and persecutions
to protect it with the hope of future good things to come, and especially to
keep faith in Him whole and undefiled. For it is possible for one who has lost
other parts of the body, weak as he may be, still to survive: but even a short
time of living is extended to no one without a head. "And the sword of the
Spirit which is the word of God."(7) For it is "sharper than any two-edged
sword, and piercing even to the dividing of soul and spirit, and of the joints
and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart:"(8)
as it divides and cuts off whatever carnal and earthly things it may find in
us. And whosoever is protected by these arms will ever be defended from the
weapons and ravages of his foes, and will not be led away bound in the chains
of his spoilers, a captive and a prisoner, to the hostile land of vain
thoughts, nor hear the words of the prophet: "Why art thou grown old in a
strange country?"(9) But he will stand like a triumphant conqueror in the land
of thoughts which he has chosen. Would you understand too the strength and
courage of this centurion, by which he bears these arms of which we spoke
before as not carnal but mighty to God? Hear of the selection by which the
King himself marks and approves brave men when he summons them to the
spiritual combat. "Let," says He, "the weak say that I am strong;" and: "Let
him who is the sufferer become a warrior."(10) You see then that none but
sufferers and weak people can fight the Lord's battles, weak indeed with that
weakness, rounded on which that centurion of ours in the gospel said with
confidence: "For when I am weak, then am I strong," and again, "for strength
is made perfect in weakness."(11) Of which weakness one of the prophets says:
"And he that is weak among them shall be as the house of David.(12) For the
patient sufferer shall fight these wars, with that patience of which it is
said "patience is necessary for you that doing the will of God you may receive
the reward."(13)
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CHAPTER VI.
Of perseverance as regards care of the thoughts.
But we shall find out by our own experience that we can and ought to cling
to the Lord if we have our wills mortified and the desires of this world cut
off, and we shall be taught by the authority of those who in converse with the
Lord say in all confidence: "My soul hath stuck close to Thee;" and: "I have
stuck unto Thy testimonies, O Lord;" and: "It is good for me to stick fast to
God;" and: "He who cleaveth to the Lord, is one spirit."(1) We ought not then
to be wearied out by these wanderings of mind and relax from our fervour: for
"he that tilleth his ground shall be filled with bread: but he that followeth
idleness shall be filled with poverty."(2) Nor should we be drawn away from
being intent on this watchfulness through a dangerous despair, for "in every
one who is anxious there is abundance, for he who is pleasant and free from
grief will be in want;" and again: "a man in grief labours for himself, and
forcibly brings about his own destruction."(3) Moreover also: "the kingdom of
heaven suffereth violence and the violent take it by force,"(4) for no virtue
is acquired without effort, nor can anyone attain to that mental stability
which he desires without great sorrow of heart, for "man is born to
trouble,"(5) and in order that he may be able to attain to "the perfect man,
the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ"(6) he must ever be on the
watch with still greater intentness, and toil with ceaseless carefulness. But
to the fulness of this measure no one will ever attain, but one Who has
considered it beforehand and been trained to it now and has had some foretaste
of it while still in this world, and being marked a most precious member of
Christ, has possessed in the flesh an earnest of that "joint"(7) by which he
can be united to His body: desiring one thing alone, thirsting for but one
thing, ever bringing not only his acts but even his thoughts to bear on one
thing alone; viz., that he may even now keep as an earnest that which is said
of the blessed life of the saints hereafter; viz., that "God may be" to him
"all in all."(8)
CHAPTER VII.
A question on the roving tendency of the mind and the
attacks of spiritual wickedness.
GERMANUS: Perhaps this tendency of the mind to rove might to some extent
be checked were it not that so great a swam of enemies surrounded it, and
ceaselessly urged it toward what it has no wish for, or rather whither the
roving character of its own nature drives it. And since such numberless foes,
and those so powerful and terrible, surround it, we should not fancy that it
was possible for them to be withstood especially by this weak flesh of ours,
were we not encouraged to this view by your words as if by oracles from
heaven.
CHAPTER VIII.
The answer on the help of God and the power of free will
SERENUS: No one who has experienced the conflicts of the inner man, can
doubt that our foes are continually lying in wait for us. But we mean that
they oppose our progress in such a way that we can think of them as only
inciting to evil things and not forcing. But no one could altogether avoid
whatever sin they were inclined to imprint upon our hearts, if a strong
impulse was present to force (evil) upon us, just as it is to suggest it.
Wherefore as there is in them ample power of inciting, so in us there is a
supply of power of rejection, and of liberty of acquiescing. But if we are
afraid of their power and assaults, we may also claim the protection and
assistance of God against them, of which we read: "For greater is He who is in
us than he who is in this world:"(9) and His aid fights on our side with much
greater power than their hosts fight against us; for God is not only the
suggester of what is good, but the maintainer and insister of it, so that
sometimes He draws us towards salvation even against our will and without our
knowing it. It follows then that no one can be deceived by the devil but one
who has chosen to yield to him the consent of his own will: as Ecclesiastes
clearly puts it in these words: "For since there is no gainsaying by those who
do evil speedily, therefore the heart of the children of men is filled within
them to do evil."(10) It is therefore clear that each man goes wrong from
this; viz., that when evil thoughts assault him he does not immediately meet
them with refusal and contradiction, for it says: "resist him, and he will
flee from you."(11)
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CHAPTER IX.
A question on the union of the soul with devils.
GERMANUS: What, I pray you, is that indiscriminate and common union of the
soul with those evil spirits, by which it is possible for them to be (I will
not say joined with but) united to it in such a way that they can
imperceptibly talk with it, and find their way into it and suggest to it
whatever they want, and incite it to whatever they like, and look into and see
its thoughts and movements; and the result is so close a union between them
and the soul that it is almost impossible without God's grace to distinguish
between what results from their instigation, and what from our free will.
CHAPTER X.
The answer how unclean spirits are united with human souls.
SERENUS: It is no wonder that spirit can be imperceptibly joined with
spirit, and exercise an unseen power of persuasion toward what is allowed to
it. For there is between them (just as between men) some sort of similarity
and kinship of substance, since the description which is given of the nature
of the soul, applies equally well to their substance. But it is impossible for
spirits to be implanted in spirits inwardly or united with them in such a way
that one can hold the other; for this is the true prerogative of Deity alone,
which is the only simple and incorporeal nature.
CHAPTER XI.
An objection whether unclean spirits can be present in or united with the
souls of those whom they have filled.
GERMANUS: To this idea we think that what we see happen in the case of
those possessed is sufficiently opposed, when they say and do what they know
not under the influence of the spirits. How then are we to refuse to believe
that their souls are not united to those spirits, when we see them made their
instruments, and (forsaking their natural condition) yielding to their
movements and moods, in such a way that they give expression no longer to
their own words and actions and wishes, but to those of the demons?
CHAPTER XII.
The answer how it is that unclean spirits can lord it over
those possessed.
SERENUS: What you speak of as taking place in the case of demoniacs is not
opposed to our assertion; viz., that those possessed by unclean spirits say
and do what they do not i want to, and are forced to utter what they know not;
for it is perfectly clear that they are not subject to the entrance of the
spirits all in the same way: for some are affected by them in such a way as to
have not the slight est conception of what they do and say, while others know
and afterwards recollect it. But we must not imagine that this is done by the
infusion of the spirit in such a way that it penetrates into the actual
substance of the soul and, being as it were united to it and somehow clothed
with it, utters words and sayings through the mouth of the sufferer. For we
ought not to believe that this can possibly be done by them. For we can
clearly see that this results from no loss of the soul but from weakness of
the body, when the unclean spirit seizes on those members in which the vigour
of the soul resides, and laying on them an enormous and intolerable weight
overwhelms it with foulest darkness, and interferes with its intellectual
powers: as we see sometimes happen also from the fault of wine and fever or
excessive cold, and other indispositions affecting men from without; and it
was this which the devil was forbidden to attempt to inflict on the blessed
Job, though he had received power over his flesh, when the Lord commanded him
saying: "Lo, I give him into thine hands: only preserve his soul,"(1) i.e., do
not weaken the seat of his soul and make him mad, and overpower the
understanding and wisdom of what remains, by smothering the ruling power in
his heart with your weight.
CHAPTER XIII.
How spirit cannot be penetrated by spirit, and how God
alone is incorporeal.
FOR even if spirit is mingled with this crass and solid matter; viz.,
flesh (as very easily happens), should we therefore believe that it can be
united to the soul, which is in like manner spirit, in such a way as to make
it also receptive in the same way of its own nature: a thing which is possible
to the
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Trinity alone, which is so capable of pervading every intellectual nature,
that it cannot only embrace and surround it but even insert itself into it
and, incorporeal though it is, be infused into a body? For though we maintain
that some spiritual natures exist, such as angels, archangels and the other
powers, and indeed our own souls and the thin air, yet we ought certainly not
to consider them incorporeal. For they have in their own fashion a body in
which they exist, though it is much finer than our bodies are, in accordance
with the Apostle's words when he says: "And there are bodies celestial, and
bodies terrestrial:" and again: "It is sown a natural body, it is raised a
spiritual body;"(1) from which it is clearly gathered that there is nothing
incorporeal but God alone, and therefore it is only by Him that all spiritual
and intellectual substances can be pervaded, because He alone is whole and
everywhere and in all things, in such a way as to behold and see the thoughts
of men and their inner movements and all the recesses of the soul; since it
was of Him alone that the blessed Apostle spoke when he said: "For the word of
God is quick and powerful and sharper than any two-edged sword, and piercing
even to the dividing of soul and spirit and of the joints and marrow; and is a
discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart; and there is no creature
invisible in His sight, but all things are naked and open to His eyes."(2) And
the blessed David says: "Who fashioneth their hearts one by one;" and again:
"For He knoweth the secrets of the heart;"(3) and Job too: "Thou who alone
knowest the hearts of men."(4)
CHAPTER XIV.
An objection, as to how we ought to believe that devils see
into the thoughts of men.
GERMANUS: In this way, which you describe, those spirits cannot possibly
see into our thoughts. But we think it utterly absurd to hold such an opinion,
when Scripture says: "If the spirit of him that hath power ascend upon
thee;"(5) and again: "When the devil had put it into the heart of Simon
Iscariot to betray the Lord."(6) How then can we believe that our thoughts are
not open to them, when we feel that for the most part they spring up and are
nursed by their suggestions and instigation?
CHAPTER XV.
The answer what devils can and what they cannot do in
regard to the thoughts of men.
SERENUS: Nobody doubts that unclean spirits can influence the character of
our thoughts, but this is by affecting them from without by sensible
influences, i.e., either from our inclinations or from our words, and those
likings to which they see that we are especially disposed. But they cannot
possibly come near to those which have not yet come forth from the inmost
recesses of the soul. And the thoughts too, which they suggest, whether they
are actually or in a kind of way embraced, are discovered by them not from the
nature of the soul itself, i.e., that inner inclination which lies concealed
so to speak in the very marrow, but from motions and signs given by the
outward man, as for example, when they suggest gluttony, if they have seen a
monk raising his eyes anxiously to the window or to the sun, or inquiring
eagerly what o'clock it is, they know that he has admitted the feeling of
greediness. If when they suggest fornication they find him calmly submitting
to the attack of lust, or see him perturbed in body, or at any rate not
groaning as he ought under the wantonness of an impure suggestion, they know
that the dart of lust is already fixed in his very soul. If they stir up
incitements to grief, or anger, or rage, they can tell whether they have taken
root in the heart by the movements of the body, and visible disturbances,
when, for instance, they have noticed him either groaning silently, or panting
with indignation or changing colour; and so they cunningly discover the fault
to which he is given over. For they know that every one of us is enticed in a
regular way by that one, to the incitement of which they see, by a sort of
assenting motion of the body, that he has yielded his consent and agreement.
And it is no wonder that this is discovered by those powers of the air, when
we see that even clever men can often discover the state of the inner man from
his mien and look and external bearing. How much more surely then can this be
discovered by those who as being of a spiritual nature are certainly much more
subtle and cleverer than men.
CHAPTER XVI.
An illustration showing how we are taught that unclean spirits know the
thoughts of men.
FOR just as some thieves are in the habit of examining the concealed
treasures of the
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men in those houses which they mean to rob, and in the dark shades of night
sprinkle with careful hands little grains of sand and discover the hidden
treasures which they cannot see by the tinkling sound with which they answer
to the fall of the sand, and so arrive at certain knowledge of each thing and
metal, which betrays itself in a way by the voice elicited from it; so these
too, in order to explore the treasures of our heart, scatter over us the sand
of certain evil suggestions, and when they see some bodily affection arise
corresponding to their character, they recognize as if by a sort of tinkling
sound proceeding from the inmost recesses, what it is that is stored up in the
secret chamber of the inner man.
CHAPTER XVII.
On the fact that not every devil has the power of suggesting
every passion to men.
BUT we ought to know this, that not all devils can implant all the
passions in men, but that certain spirits brood over each sin, and that some
gloat over uncleanness and filthy lusts, others over blasphemy, others are
more particularly devoted to anger and wrath, others thrive on gloominess,
others are pacified with vainglory and pride; and each one implants in the
hearts of men that sin, in which he himself revels, and they cannot implant
their special vices all at one time, but in turn, according as the opportunity
of time or place, or a man, who is open to their suggestions, excites them.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A question whether among the devils there is any order observed in the attack,
or system in its changes.
GERMANUS: Must we then believe that wickedness is arranged and so to speak
systematized among them in such a way that there is some order in the changes
observed by them, and a regular plan of attack carried out, though it is clear
that method and system can only exist among good and upright men, as Scripture
says: "Thou shalt seek wisdom among the ungodly and shalt not find it; and:
"our enemies are senseless;" and this: "There is neither wisdom, nor courage,
nor counsel among the ungodly."(1)
CHAPTER XIX.
The answer how far an agreement exists among devils about
the attack and its changes.
SERENUS: It is a true assertion that there is no lasting concord among bad
men, and that perfect harmony cannot exist even in regard to those particular
faults which have attractions for them all in common. For, as you have said,
it can never be that system and discipline are preserved among undisciplined
things. But in some matters, where community of interests, and necessity
enforces it, or participation in some gain recommends it, they must arrange
for some agreement for the time being. And we see very clearly that this is so
in the case of this war of spiritual wickedness; so that not only do they
observe times and changes among themselves, but actually are known specially
to occupy some particular spots and to haunt them persistently: for since they
must make their attacks through certain fixed temptations and well defined
sins, and at particular times, we clearly infer from this that no one can at
one and at the same time be deluded by the emptiness of vainglory and inflamed
by the lust of fornication, nor at one and the same time be puffed up by the
outrageous haughtiness of spiritual pride, and subject to the humiliation of
carnal gluttony. Nor can anyone be overcome by silly giggling and laughter and
at the same time be excited by the stings of anger, or at any rate filled with
the pains of gnawing grief: but all the spirits must one by one advance to
attack the soul, in such a way that when one has been vanquished and
retreated, he must make way for another spirit to attack it still more
vehemently, or if he has come forth victorious, he will none the less hand it
over to be deceived by another.
CHAPTER XX.
Of the fact that opposite powers are not of the same boldness, and that the
occasions of temptation are not under their control.
WE ought also not to be ignorant of this, that they have not all the same
fierceness and energy, nor indeed the same boldness and malice, and that with
beginners and feeble folk only the weaker spirits join battle, and when these
spiritual wickednesses are beaten, then gradually the assaults of stronger
ones are made against the athlete of Christ. For in proportion to a man's
strength and progress, is the difficulty of the struggle made greater: for
none of the saints could possibly be equal to the endurance of the malice of
so
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many and so great foes, or meet their attacks, or even bear their cruelty and
savagery, were it not that the merciful judge of our contest, and president of
the games, Christ Himself, equalized the strength of the combatants, and
repelled and checked their excessive attacks, and made with the temptation a
way of escape as well that we might be able to bear it.(1)
CHAPTER XXI.
Of the fact that devils struggle with men not without effort on
their part.
BUT our belief is that they undertake this struggle not without effort on
their part. For in their conflict they themselves have some sort of anxiety
and depression, and especially when they are matched with stronger rivals,
i.e., saints and perfect men. Otherwise no contest or struggle, but only a
simple deception of men, and one free from anxiety on their part would be
assigned to them. And how then would the Apostle's words stand, where he says:
"We wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against
powers, against world-rulers of this darkness, against spiritual wickedness in
heavenly places;" and this too: "So fight I, not as one that beateth the air;"
and again: "I have fought a good fight"?(2) For where it is spoken of as a
fight, and conflict, and battle, there must be effort and exertion and anxiety
on both sides, and equally there must either be in store for them chagrin and
confusion for their failure, or delight consequent upon their victory. But
where one fights with ease and security against another who struggles with
great effort, and in order to overthrow his rival makes use of his will alone
as his strength, there it ought not to be called a battle, struggle, or
strife, but a sort of unfair and unreasonable assault and attack. But they
certainly have to labour, and when they attack men, exert themselves in no
lesser degree in order to secure from each one that victory which they want to
obtain, and there is hurled back upon them the same confusion which was
awaiting us had we been worsted by them; as it is said: "The head of their
compassing me about, the labour of their own lips shall overwhelm them;" and:
"His sorrow shall be turned on his own head;" and again: "Let the snare which
he knoweth not come upon him, and let the net which he hath hidden catch him,
and into that very snare let him fall;"(3) viz., that which he contrived for
the deception of men. They then themselves also come to grief, and as they
damage us so are they also in like manner damaged by us, nor when they are
worsted do they depart without confusion, and seeing these defeats of theirs
and their struggles, one who had good eyes in his inner man, seeing also that
they gloated over the downfall and mischances of individuals, and fearing lest
his own case might furnish them with this kind of delight, prayed to the Lord
saying: "Lighten mine eyes that I sleep not in death: lest mine enemy say, I
have prevailed against him. They that trouble me will rejoice if I be moved;"
and: "O My God, let them not rejoice over me; let them not say in their
hearts, Aha, Aha, our very wish; neither let them say; we have devoured hint."
and: "They gnashed their teeth upon me. Lord, how long wilt Thou look on
this?" for: "he lieth in wait secretly as a lion in his den: he lieth in wait
to ravish the poor;" and: "He seeketh from God his meat."(4) And again when
all their efforts are exhausted, and they have failed to secure our deception,
they must "be confounded and blush" at the failure of their efforts, "who seek
our souls to destroy them: and let them be covered with shame and confusion
who imagine evil against us."(5) Jeremiah also says: "Let them be confounded,
and let not me be confounded: let them be afraid, and let not me be afraid:
bring upon them the fury of Thy wrath, and with a double destruction destroy
them."(6) For no one can doubt that when they are vanquished by us they will
be destroyed with a double destruction: first, because while men are seeking
after holiness, they, though they possessed it, lost it, and became the cause
of man's ruin; secondly, because being spiritual existences, they have been
vanquished by carnal and earthly ones. Each one then of the saints when he
looks on the destruction of his foes and his own triumphs, exclaims with
delight: "I will follow after mine enemies and overtake them: and I will not
turn until they are destroyed. I will break them and they shall not be able to
stand: they shall fall under my feet,"(7) and in his prayers against them the
same prophet says: "Judge thou, O Lord, them that wrong me: overthrow them
that fight against me. Take hold of arms and shield: and rise up to help me.
Bring out the sword and shut up the way against them that persecute me: say to
my soul, I am thy salvation."(8) And when by
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subduing and destroying all our passions we have vanquished these, we shall
then be permitted to hear those words of blessing: "Thy hand shall be exalted
over thine enemies, and all thine enemies shall perish."(1) And so when we
read or chant all these and such like passages found in holy writ, unless we
take them as written against those spiritual wickednesses which lie in wait
for us night and day, we shall not only fail to draw from them any edification
to make us gentle and patient, but shall actually meet with some dreadful
consequence and one that is quite contrary to evangelical perfection. For we
shall not only not be taught to pray for or to love our enemies, but actually
shall be stirred up to hate them with an implacable hatred, and to curse them
and incessantly to pour forth prayers against them. And it is terribly wrong
and blasphemous to think that these words were uttered in such a spirit by
holy men and friends of God, on whom before the coming of Christ the law was
not imposed for the very reason that they went beyond its commands, and chose
rather to obey the preCepts of the gospel and to aim at apostolical
perfection, though they lived before the dispensation of the time.
CHAPTER XXII.
On the fact that the power to hurt does not depend upon the
will of the devils.
BUT that they have not the power of hurting any man is shown in a very
clear way by the instance of the blessed Job, where the enemy did not venture
to try him beyond what was allowed to him by the Divine permission; and it is
evidenced by the confession of the same spirits contained in the records of
the gospel, where they say: "If Thou cast us out, suffer us to go into the
herd of swine."(2) And far more must we hold that they cannot of their own
free will enter into any one of men who are created in the image of God, if
they have not power to enter into dumb and unclean animals without the
permission of God. But no one--I will not say of the younger men, whom we see
living most steadfastly in this desert, but even of those who are
perfect--could live alone in the desert, surrounded by such swarms of foes of
this kind, if they had unlimited power and freedom to hurt and tempt us: and
still more clearly is this supported by the words of our Lord and Saviour,
which in the lowliness of the manhood He had assumed, He uttered to Pilate,
when He said: "Thou couldest have no power against Me at all, unless it were
given thee from above."(3)
CHAPTER XXIII.
Of the diminished power of the devils.
BUT we have thoroughly discovered both by our own experience and by the
testimony of the Elders that the devils have not now the same power as they
had formerly during the early days of the anchorites, when yet there were only
a few monks living in the desert. For such was their fierceness that it was
with difficulty that a few very steadfast men, and those advanced in years
were able to endure a life of solitude. Since in the actual monasteries where
eight or ten men used to live, their violence attacked them so and their
assaults were experienced so frequently, and so visibly, that they did not
dare all to go to bed at once by night, but took turns and while some snatched
a little sleep, others kept watch and devoted themselves to Psalms and prayer
and reading. And when the wants of nature compelled them to sleep, they awoke
the others, and committed to them in like manner the duty of keeping watch
over those who were going to bed. Whence we cannot doubt that one of two
things has brought about this result not only in the case of us who seem to be
fairly strong from the experience which our age gives us, but also in the case
of younger men as well. For either the malice of the devils has been beaten
back by the power of the cross penetrating even to the desert, and by its
grace which shines everywhere; or else our carelessness makes them relax
something of their first onslaught, as they scorn to attack us with the same
energy with which they formerly raged against those most admirable soldiers of
Christ; and by this deceit and ceasing from open attacks they do us still more
damage. For we see that some have fallen into so sluggish a condition that
they have to be coaxed by too gentle exhortations for fear lest they should
forsake their cells and fall into more dangerous troubles, and wander and
stray about and be entangled in what I would call grosser sins; and it is
thought that a great thing is got from them if they can even with some
listlessness remain in the desert, and the Elders often say to them as a great
relief: Stop in your cells, and eat and drink and sleep as much as you
like,(4) if only you will stay in them always.
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CHAPTER XXIV.
Of the way in which the devils prepare for themselves an entrance into the
bodies of those whom they are going to possess.
IT is clear then that unclean spirits cannot make their way into those
whose bodies they are going to seize upon, in any other way than by first
taking possession of their minds and thoughts. And when they have robbed them
of fear and the recollection of God and spiritual meditation, they boldly
advance upon them, as if they were dispossessed of all protection and Divine
safeguard, and could easily be bound, and then take up their dwelling in them
as if in a possession given over to them.
CHAPTER XXV.
On the fact that those men are more wretched who are possessed by sins than
those who are possessed by devils.
ALTHOUGH it is a fact that those men are more grievously and severely
troubled, who, while they seem to be very little affected by them in the body,
are yet possessed in spirit in a far worse way, as they are entangled in their
sins and lusts. For as the Apostle says: "Of whom a man is overcome, of him he
is also the servant." Only that in this respect they are more dangerously ill,
because though they are their slaves, yet they do not know that they are
assaulted by them, and under their dominion. But we know that even saintly men
have been given over in the flesh to Satan and to great afflictions for some
very slight faults, since the Divine mercy will not suffer the very least spot
or stain to be found in them on the day of judgment, and purges away in this
world every spot of their filth, as the prophet, or rather God Himself says,
in order that He may commit them to eternity as gold or silver refined and
needing no penal purification. "And," says He, "I will clean purge away thy
dross, and I will take away all thy tin; and after this thou shall be called
the city of the just, a faithful city." And again: "Like as silver and gold
are tried in the furnace, so the Lord chooseth the hearts;" And again: "The
fire tries gold and silver; but man is tried in the furnace of humiliation;"
and this also: "For whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every
son whom He receiveth."(1)
CHAPTER XXVI.
Of the death of the prophet who was led astray, and of the infirmity of the
Abbot Paul, with which he was visited for the sake of his cleansing.
AND we see clear instance of this in the case of that prophet and man of
God in the third book of Kings, who was straightway destroyed by a lion for a
single fault of disobedience, in which he was implicated not of set purpose
nor by the fault of his own will but by the enticement of another, as the
Scripture speaks thus of him: "It is the man of God, who was disobedient to
the mouth of the Lord, and the Lord delivered him to the lion, and it tare him
according to the word of the Lord, which He spake."(2) In which case the
punishment of the present offence and carelessness together with the reward of
his righteousness, for which the Lord gave over his prophet in this world to
the destroyer, are shown by the moderation and abstinence of the beast of
prey, as that most savage creature did not dare even to taste the carcass that
was given over to him. And of the same thing a very clear and plain proof has
been given in our own days in the case of the Abbots Paul and Moses who lived
in a spot in this desert called Calamus,(3) for the former had formerly dwelt
in the wilderness which is hard by the city of Panephysis,(4) which we know
had only recently been made a wilderness by an inundation of salt water; which
whenever the north wind blew, was driven from the marshes and spreading over
the adjacent fields covered the face of the whole district, so as to make the
ancient villages, which on this very account had been deserted by all their
inhabitants, look like islands. Here, then, the Abbot Paul had made such
progress in purity of heart in the stillness and silence of the desert, that
he did not suffer, I will not say a woman's face, but even the clothes of one
of that sex to appear in his sight. For when as he was going to the cell of
one of the Elders together with Abbot Archebius(5) who lived in the same
desert, by accident a woman met him, he was so disgusted at meeting her that
he dropped the business of his friendly visit which he had taken in hand and
dashed back again to his own monastery with greater speed than a man would
flee from the face of a lion or terrible dragon; so that he was not moved even
by the shouts and prayers of the aforesaid Abbot Archebius who called him back
to
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go on with the journey they had undertaken to ask the old man what they had
proposed to do. But though this was done in his eagerness for chastity and
desire for purity, yet because it was done not according to knowledge, and
because the observance of discipline, and the methods of proper strictness
were overstrained, for he imagined that not merely familiarity with a woman
(which is the real harm,) but even the very form of that sex was to be
execrated, he was forthwith overtaken by such a punishment that his whole body
was struck with paralysis, and none of his limbs were able to perform their
proper functions, since not merely his hands and feet, but even the movements
of the tongue, which enables us to frame our words, (were affected) and his
very ears lost the sense of hearing, so that there was left in him nothing
more of his manhood than an immovable and insensible figure. But he was
reduced to such a condition that the utmost care of men was unable to minister
to his infirmity, but only the tender service of women could attend to his
wants: for when he was taken to a convent of holy virgins, food and drink,
which he could not ask for even by signs, were brought to him by female
attendants, and for the performance of all that nature required he was
ministered to by the same service for nearly four years, i.e., to the end of
his life. And though he was affected by such weakness of all his members that
none of his limbs retained their keen power of motion and feeling,
nevertheless such grace of goodness proceeded from him that when sick persons
were anointed with the oil which had touched what should be called his corpse
rather than his body, they were instantly healed of all diseases, so that as
regards his own malady it was made clearly and plainly evident even to
unbelievers that the infirmity of all his limbs was caused by the providence
and love of the Lord, and that the grace of these healings was granted by the
power of the Holy Ghost as a witness of his purity and a manifestation of his
merits.
CHAPTER XXVII.
On the temptation of Abbot Moses.
BUT the second person whom we mentioned as living in this desert, although
he was also a remarkable and striking man, yet, in order to punish a single
word, to which in a dispute with Abbot Macarius,(1) he had given utterance
somewhat too sharply, as he was anticipated in some opinion, he was instantly
delivered to so dreadful a demon that he filled his mouth with filth(2) which
he supplied, and the Lord showed by the quickness of his cure, and the author
of his healing, that He had brought this scourge upon him to purify him, that
there might not remain in him any stain from his momentary error: for as soon
as Abbot Macarius committed himself to prayer, quicker than a word the evil
spirit tied away from him and departed.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
How we ought not to despise those who are delivered up to
unclean spirits.
FROM which it plainly results that we ought not to hate or despise those
whom we see to be delivered up to various temptations or to those spirits of
evil, because we ought firmly to hold these two points: first, that none of
them can be tempted at all by them without God's permission, and secondly that
all things which are brought upon us by God, whether they seem to us at the
present time to be sad or joyful, are inflicted for our advantage as by a most
kind father and most compassionate physician, and that therefore men are, as
it were, given into the charge of schoolmasters, and humbled in order that
when they depart out of this world they may be removed in a state of greater
purity to the other life, or have a lighter punishment inflicted on them, as
they have been, as the Apostle says, delivered over at the present time "to
Satan for the destruction of the flesh that the spirit may be saved in the day
of the Lord Jesus."(3)
CHAPTER XXIX.
An objection, asking why those who are tormented by unclean spirits are
separated from the Lord's communion.
GERMANUS: And how is it that we see them not only scorned and shunned by
everybody, but actually always kept away from the Lord's communion in our
provinces, in accordance with these words of the gospel: "Give not that which
is holy to the dogs, neither cast four pearls before swine;"(4) while you tell
us that somehow we ought to hold that the humiliation of this temptation is
brought upon them with a view to their purification and profit?
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CHAPTER XXX.
The answer to the question raised.
SERENUS: If we had this knowledge. or rather faith, of which I treated
above; viz., to believe that all things were brought about by God, and ordered
for the good of our souls, we should not only never despise them, but rather
pray without ceasing for them as our own members, and sympathize with them
with all our hearts and the fullest affection (for "when one member suffers,
all the members suffer with it"(1)), as we know that we cannot possibly be
perfected without them inasmuch as they are members of us, just as we read
that our predecessors could not attain the fulness of promise without us, as
the Apostle speaks of them as follows: "And these all being approved by the
testimony of faith, received not the promise, God providing some better thing
for us that they should not be perfected without us."(2) But we never remember
that holy, communion was forbidden them; nay rather if it were possible, they
thought that it ought to be given to them daily; nor indeed according to the
words of the gospel which you incongruously apply in this sense "Give not that
which is holy to dogs,"(3) ought we to believe that holy communion becomes
food for the demon, and not a purification and safeguard of body and soul; for
when it is received by a man it, so to speak, burns out and puts to flight the
spirit which has its seat in his members or is trying to lurk in them. For in
this way we have lately seen Abbot Andronicus and many others cured. For the
enemy will more and more abuse the man who is possessed, if he sees him cut
off from the heavenly medicine, and will tempt him more often and more
fearfully, as he sees him removed the further from this spiritual remedy.(4)
CHAPTER XXXI.
On the fact that those men are more to be pitied to whom it is not given to be
subjected to those temporal temptations.
BUT we ought to consider those men truly wretched and miserable in whose
case, although they defile themselves with all kinds of sins and wickedness,
yet not only is there no visible sign of the devil's possession shown in them,
nor is any temptation proportionate to their actions, nor any scourge of
punishment brought to bear upon them. For they are vouchsafed no swift and
immediate remedy in this world, whose "hardness and impenitent heart," being
too much for punishment in this life, "heapeth up for itself wrath and
indignation in the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of
God," "where their worm dieth not, and their fire is not quenched."(5) Against
whom the prophet as if perplexed at the affliction of the saints, when he sees
them subject to various losses and temptations, and on the other hand sees
sinners not only passing through the course of this world without any scourge
of humiliation, but even rejoicing in great riches, and the utmost prosperity
in everything, inflamed with uncontrollable indignation and fervour of spirit,
exclaims: "But as for me, my feet had almost gone, my treadings had well nigh
slipped. For I was grieved at the wicked, when I saw the peace of sinners. For
there is no regard to their death, nor is there strength in their stripes.
They are not in the labour of men, neither shall they be scourged like other
men,"(6) since hereafter they shall be punished with the devils, to whom in
this world it was not vouchsafed to be scourged in the lot and discipline of
sons, together with men. Jeremiah also, when conversing with God on this
prosperity of sinners, although he never professes to doubt about the justice
of God, as he says "for Thou art just, O Lord, if I dispute with Thee," yet in
his inquiry as to the reasons of this inequality, proceeds to say: "But yet I
will speak what is just to Thee. Why doth the way of the wicked prosper? Why
is it well with all them that transgress and do wickedly? Thou hast planted
them and they have taken root: they prosper and bring forth fruit. Thou art
near in their mouth and far from their reins."(7) And when the Lord mourns for
their destruction by the prophet, and anxiously directs doctors and physicians
to heal them, and in a manner urges them on to a similar lamentation and says:
"Babylon is suddenly fallen: she is destroyed. Howl for her: take balm for her
pain, if so she may be healed;" then, in their despair, the angels, to whom is
entrusted the care of man's salvation, make reply; or at any rate the prophet
in the person of the Apostles and spiritual men and doctors who see the
hardness of their soul, and their impenitent heart: "We have healed Babylon:
but she is not cured. Let us forsake her, and let us go every man to his own
land because her judgment hath reached even to
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the heavens, and is lifted up to the clouds."(1) Of their desperate feebleness
then Isaiah speaks in the Person of God to Jerusalem: From the sole of the
foot unto the top of the head there is no soundness therein: wounds and
bruises and swelling sores: they are not bound up nor dressed nor fermented
with oil."(2)
CHAPTER XXXII.
Of the different desires and wishes which exist in the powers
of the air.
BUT it is clearly proved that there exist in unclean spirits as many
desires as there are in men. For some of them, which are commonly called
Plani,(3) are shown to be so seductive and sportive that, when they have taken
continual possession of certain places or roads, they delight themselves not
indeed with tormenting the passers by whom they can deceive, but, contenting
themselves merely with laughing at them and mocking them, try to tire them out
rather than to injure them: while some spend the night merely by harmlessly
taking possession of men, though others are such slaves to fury and ferocity
that they are not simply content with hurting the bodies of those, of whom
they have taken possession, by tearing them in a dreadful manner, but actually
are eager to rush upon those who are passing by at a distance, and to attack
them with most savage slaughter: like those described in the gospel, for fear
of whom no man dared to pass by that way. And there is no doubt that these and
such as these in their insatiable fury delight in wars and bloodshed. Others
we find affect the hearts of those whom they have seized with empty pride,
(and these are commonly called Bacucei(4)) so that they stretch themselves up
beyond their proper height and at one time puff themselves up with arrogance
and pomposity, and at another time condescend in an ordinary and bland manner,
to a state of calmness and affability: and as they fancy that they are great
people and the wonder of everybody, at one time show by bowing their body that
they are worshipping higher powers, while at another time they think that they
are worshipped by others, and so go through all those movements which express
true service either proudly or humbly. Others we find are not only keen for
lies, but also inspire men with blasphemies. And of this we ourselves can
testify as we have heard a demon openly confessing that he had proclaimed a
wicked and impious doctrine by the mouths of Arius and Eunomius. And the same
thing we read that one of them openly proclaimed in the fourth book of Kings:
"I will go forth," he said, "and will be a lying spirit in the mouth of all
his prophets."(5) On which the Apostle, when reproving those who are deceived
by them, adds as follows: "giving heed to seducing spirits and doctrines of
devils speaking lies in hypocrisy."(6) And that there are other kinds of
devils which are deaf and dumb the gospels testify. And that some spirits
incite to lust and wantonness the prophet maintains saying: "The spirit of
fornication deceived them and they went astray from their God."(7) In the same
way the authority of Scripture teaches us that there are demons of the night
and of the day and of the noonday:(8) But it would take too long to search
through the whole of Scripture and run through the different kinds of them, as
they are termed by the prophets onocentaurs, satyrs, sirens, witches, howlers,
ostriches, urchins; and asps and basilisks in the Psalms; and are called
lions, dragons, scorpions in the gospel, and are named by the Apostle the
prince of this world, rulers of this darkness, and spirits of wickedness.(9)
And all these names we ought not to take as given at random or hap-hazard, but
as alluding to their fierceness and madness under the sign of those wild
beasts which are more or less harmful and dangerous among us, and by comparing
them to the poisonous wickedness or power which among other beasts or
serpents, some pre-eminence in evil confers on them, they are called by their
names, in such a way that to one is assigned the name of lion because of the
fury of his rage and the madness of his anger, to another that of basilisk
because of his deadly poison, which kills a person before it is perceived, and
to another that of onocentaur or urchin or ostrich because of his sluggish
malice.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
A question as to the origin of such differences in powers of
evil in the sky.
GERMANUS: We certainly do not doubt that those orders which the Apostle
enumerates refer to them: "For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but
against principalities,
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against powers, against the world-rulers of this darkness, against spirits of
wickedness in heavenly places:"(1) but we want to know whence comes such a
difference between them, or how such grades of wickedness exist? Were they
created for this, to meet with these orders of evil, and in some way to serve
this wickedness?
CHAPTER XXXIV.
The postponement of the answer to the question raised.
SERENUS: Although your proposals would rob us of our whole night's rest,
so that we should not notice the approach of the rising dawn, and should be
tempted greedily to prolong our conference till sunrise, yet since the solving
of the question raised, if we began to trace it out, would launch us on a wide
and deep sea of questions, which the shortness of the time at our disposal
would not permit us to traverse, I think it will be more convenient to reserve
it for consideration another night, when by the raising of this question I
shall receive from your very ready converse some spiritual joy and richer
fruit, and we shall be able if the Holy Spirit grants us a prosperous breeze
to penetrate more freely into the intricacies of the questions raised.
Wherefore let us enjoy a little sleep, and so shake off the drowsiness that
steals over our eyes, as the dawn approaches, and then we will go together to
church, for the observance of Sunday bids us do this, and after service will
come back, and as you wish, discuss with redoubled delight what the Lord may
have given to us for our common improvement.
CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.
VIII.
THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT SERENUS.
ON PRINCIPALITIES.
CHAPTER I.
Of the hospitality of Abbot Serenus.
WHEN we had finished the duties of the day, and the congregation had been
dismissed from Church we returned to the old man's cell, and enjoyed a most
sumptuous repast. For instead of the sauce which with a few drops of oil
spread over it was usually set on the table for his daily meal, he mixed a
little decoction and poured over it a somewhat more liberal allowance of oil
than usual; for each of them when he is going to partake of his daily repast,
pours those drops of oil on, not that he may receive any enjoyment from the
taste of it (for so limited is the supply that it is hardly enough I will not
say to line the passage of his throat and jaws, but even to pass down it) but
that using it, he may keep down the pride of his heart (which is certain to
creep in stealthily and surely if his abstinence is any stricter) and the
incitements to vainglory, for as his abstinence is practised with the greater
secrecy, and is carried on without anyone to see it, so much the more subtly
does it never cease to tempt the man who conceals it. Then he set before us
table salt, and three olives each: after which he produced a basket containing
parched vetches which they call trogalia,(2) from which we each took five
grains, two prunes and a fig apiece. For it is considered wrong for anyone to
exceed that amount in that desert. And when we had finished this repast and
had begun to ask him again for his promised solution of the question, "Let us
hear," said the old man, "your question, the consideration of which we
postponed till the present time."
CHAPTER II.
Statements on the different kinds of spiritual wickednesses.
THEN GERMANUS: We want to know what is the origin of the great variety of
hostile powers opposed to men, and the difference between them, which the
blessed Apostle sums up as follows: "We wrestle not against flesh and blood,
but against principalities, against powers, against the world-rulers of this
darkness, against spiritual wickedness in hea-
376
venly places:"(1) and a again: "Neither angels nor principalities nor powers
nor any other creature, can separate us from the love of God which is in
Christ Jesus our Lord."(2) Whence then arises the enmity of all this malice
jealous of us? Are we to believe that those powers were created by the Lord
for this; viz., to fight against men in these grades and orders?
CHAPTER III.
The answer on the many kinds of food provided in holy
Scripture.
SERENUS: The authority of holy Scripture says on those points on which it
would inform us some things so plainly and clearly even to those who are
utterly void of understanding, that not only are they not veiled in the
obscurity of any hidden meaning, but do not even require the help of any
explanation, but carry their meaning and sense on the surface of the words and
letters: but some things are so concealed and involved in mysteries as to
offer us an immense field for skill and care in the discussion and explanation
of them. And it is clear that God has so ordered it for many reasons: first
for fear lest the holy mysteries, if they were covered by no veil of spiritual
meaning, should be exposed equally to the knowledge and understanding of
everybody, i.e., the profane as well as the faithful and thus there might be
no difference in the matter of goodness and prudence between the lazy and the
earnest: next that among those who are indeed of the household of faith, while
immense differences of intellectual power open out before them, there might be
the opportunity of reproving the slothfulness of the idle, and of proving the
keenness and diligence of the earnest. And so holy Scripture is fitly compared
to a rich and fertile field, which, while bearing and producing much which is
good for man's food without being cooked by fire, produces some things which
are found to be unsuitable for man's use or even harmful unless they have lost
all the roughness of their raw condition by being tempered and softened down
by the heat of fire. But some are naturally fit for use in both states, so
that even when uncooked they are not unpleasant from their raw condition, but
still are rendered more palatable by being cooked and heated by fire. Many
more things too are produced only fit for the food of irrational creatures,
and cattle, and wild animals and birds, but utterly useless as food for men,
which while still in their rough state without being in any way touched by
fire, conduce to the health and life of cattle. And we can clearly see that
the same system holds good in that most fruitful garden of the Scriptures of
the Spirit, in which some things shine forth clear and bright in their literal
sense, in such a way that while they have no need of any higher
interpretation, they furnish abundant food and nourishment in the simple sound
of the words, to the hearers: as in this passage: "Hear, O Israel, the Lord
thy God is one Lord;" and: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy
heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength."(3) But there are
some which, unless they are weakened down by an allegorical interpretation,
and softened by the trial of the fire of the spirit cannot become wholesome
food for the inner man without injury and loss to him; and damage rather than
profit will accrue to him from receiving them: as with this passage: "But let
your loins be girded up and your lights burning;" and: "whosoever has no
sword, let him sell his coat and buy himself a sword;" and: "whosoever taketh
not up his cross and followeth after Me is not worthy of Me;"(4) a passage
which some most earnest monks, having "indeed a zeal for God, but not
according to knowledge"(5) understood literally, and so made themselves wooden
crosses, and carried them about constantly on their shoulders, and so were the
cause not of edification but of ridicule on the part of all who saw them. But
some are capable of being taken suitable and properly in both ways, i.e., the
historical and allegorical, so that either explanation furnishes a healing
draught to the soul; as this passage: "If any one shall smite thee on the
right cheek, turn to him the other also;" and: "when they persecute you in one
city, flee to another;" and: "if thou wilt be perfect, go, sell all that thou
hast and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven, and come
follow Me."(6) It produces indeed "grass for the cattle" also, (and of this
food all the fields of Scripture are full); viz., plain and simple narratives
of history, by which simple folk, and those who are incapable of perfect and
sound understanding (of whom it is said "Thou, Lord, wilt save both man and
beast")(7) may be made stronger and more vigorous for their hard work and the
labour of actual life, in accordance with the state and measure of their
capacity.
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CHAPTER IV.
Of the double sense in which Holy Scripture may be taken.
WHEREFORE on those passages which are brought forward with a clear
explanation we also can constantly lay down the meaning and boldly state our
own opinions. But those which the Holy Spirit, reserving for our meditation
and exercise, has inserted in holy Scripture with veiled meaning, wishing some
of them to be gathered from various proofs and conjectures, ought to be step
by step and carefully brought together, so that their assertions and proofs
may be arranged by the discretion of the man who is arguing or supporting
them. For sometimes when a difference of opinion is expressed on one and the
same subject, either view may be considered reasonable and be held without
injury to the faith either firmly, or doubtfully, i.e., in such a way that
neither is full belief nor absolute rejection accorded to it, and the second
view need not interfere with the former, if neither of them is found to be
opposed to the faith: as in this case: where Elias came in the person of
John,(1) and is again to be the precursor of the Lord's Advent: and in the
matter of the "Abomination of desolation" which "stood in the holy place," by
means of that idol of Jupiter which, as we read, was placed in the temple in
Jerusalem, and which is again to stand in the Church through the coming of
Antichrist,(2) and all those things which follow in the gospel, which we take
as having been fulfilled before the captivity of Jerusalem and still to be
fulfilled at the end of this world. In which matters neither view is opposed
to the other, nor does the first interpretation interfere with the second.
CHAPTER V.
Of the fact that the question suggested ought to be included among those
things to be held in a neutral or doubtful way.
AND therefore since the question raised by us, does not seem to have been
sufficiently or often ventilated among men, and is clear to most people, and
from this fact what we bring forward may perhaps appear to some to be
doubtful, we ought to regulate our own view (since it does not interfere with
faith in the Trinity) so that it may be included among those things which are
to be held doubtfully; although they rest not on mere opinions such as are
usually given to guesses and conjectures, but on clear Scripture proof.
CHAPTER VI
Of the fact that nothing is created evil by God.
GOD forbid that we should admit that God has created anything which is
substantially evil, as Scripture says "everything that God had made was very
good."(3) For if they were created by God such as they are now, or made for
this purpose; viz., to occupy these positions of malice, and ever to be ready
for the deception and ruin of men, we should in opposition to the view of the
above quoted Scripture slander God as the Creator and author of evil, as
having Himself formed utterly evil wills and natures, creating them for this
very purpose; viz., that they might ever persist m their wickedness and never
pass over to the feeling of a good will. The following reason then of this
diversity is what we received from the tradition of the fathers, being drawn
from the fount of Holy Scripture.
CHAPTER VII.
Of the origin of principalities or powers.
NONE of the faithful question the fact that before the formation of this
visible creation God made spiritual and celestial powers, in order that owing
to the very fact that they knew that they had been formed out of nothing by
the goodness of the Creator for such glory and bliss, they might render to Him
continual thanks and ceaselessly continue to praise Him, For neither should we
imagine that God for the first time began to originate His creation and work
with the formation of this world, as if in those countless ages beforehand He
had taken no thought of Providence and the divine ordering of things, and as
if we could believe that having none towards whom to show the blessings of His
goodness, He had been solitary, and a stranger to all bountifulness; a thing
which is too poor and unsuitable to fancy of that boundless and eternal and
incomprehensible Majesty; as the Lord Himself says of these powers: "When the
stars were made together, all my angels praised Me with a loud voice."(4)
Those then who were present at the creation of the stars, are most clearly
proved to have been created before that "beginning" in which it is said that
heaven and earth were made, inasmuch as they are said with loud voices and
admiration to have praised the Creator because of all those visible creatures
which, as they saw,
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proceeded forth from nothing. Before then that beginning in time which is
spoken of by Moses, and which according to the historic and Jewish
interpretation denotes the age of this world (without prejudice to our
interpretation, according to which we explain that the "beginning," of all
things is Christ, in whom the Father created all things, as it is said "All
things were made by him, and without Him was not anything made,")(1) before, I
say, that beginning of Genesis in time there is no question that God had
already created all those powers and heavenly virtues; which the Apostle
enumerates in order and thus describes: "For in Christ were created all things
both in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether they be angels or
archangels, whether they be thrones or dominions, whether they be
principalities or powers. All things were made by Him and in Him."(2)
CHAPTER VIII.
Of the fall of the devil and the angels.
AND So we are clearly shown that out of that number of them some of the
leaders fell, by the lamentations of Ezekiel and Isaiah, in which we know that
the prince of Tyre or that Lucifer who rose in the morning is lamented with a
doleful plaint: and of him the Lord speaks as follows to Ezekiel: "Son of man,
take up a lamentation over the prince of Tyre, and say to him: Thus saith the
Lord God: Thou wast the seal of resemblance, full of wisdom, perfect in
beauty. Thou wast in the pleasures of the paradise of God: every precious
stone was thy covering: the sardius, the topaz and the jasper, the chrysolyte
and the onyx and the beryl, the sapphire and the carbuncle and the emerald:
gold the work of thy beauty, and thy pipes were prepared in the day that thou
wast created. Thou wast a cherub stretched out and protecting, and I set thee
in the holy mountain of God, thou hast walked in the midst of the stones of
fire. Thou wast perfect in thy ways from the day of thy creation, until
iniquity was found in thee. By the multitude of thy merchandise thy inner
parts were filled with iniquity and thou hast sinned; and I cast thee out from
the mountain of God, and destroyed thee, O covering cherub, out of the midst
of the stones of fire. And thy heart was lifted up with thy beauty: thou hast
lost thy wisdom in thy beauty, I have cast thee to the ground: I have set thee
before the face of kings, that they might behold thee. Thou hast defiled thy
sanctuaries by the multitude of thy iniquities and by the iniquity of thy
traffic."(3) Isaiah also says of another: "How art thou fallen from heaven, O
Lucifer, who didst rise in the morning? how art thou fallen to the ground,
that didst wound the nations? and thou saidst in thine heart, I will ascend
into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God, I will sit in the
mountain of the covenant, in the sides of the north. I will ascend above the
heights of the clouds. I will be like the Most High."(4) But Holy Scripture
relates that these fell not alone from that summit of their station in bliss,
as it tells us that the dragon dragged down together with himself the third
part of the stars.(5) One of the Apostles too says still more plainly: "But
the angels who kept not their first estate, but left their own dwelling, He
hath reserved in everlasting chains under darkness to the judgmentof the great
day."(6) This too which is said to us: "But ye shall die like men and fall
like one of the princes,"(7) what does it imply but that many princes have
fallen? And by these testimonies we can gather the reason for this diversity;
viz., either that they still retain those differences of rank (which adverse
powers are said to possess, after the manner of holy and heavenly virtues)
from the station of their former rank in which they were severally created, or
else that, though themselves cast down from heavenly places, yet, as a reward
for that wickedness of theirs m which they have graduated in evil, they claim
in perversity these grades and titles of rank among themselves, by way of
copying those virtues which have stood firm there.
CHAPTER IX.
An objection seating that the fall of the devil took its origin
from the deception of God.
GERMANUS: Up till now we used to believe that the reason and commencement
of the ruin and fall of the devil, in which he was cast out from his heavenly
estate, was more particularly envy, when in his spiteful subtlety he deceived
Adam and Eve.
CHAPTER X.
The answer about the beginning of the devil's fall.
SERENUS: The passage in Genesis shows that that was not the beginning of
his fall and
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ruin, as before their deception it takes the view that he had already been
branded with the ignominy of the name of the serpent, where it says: "But the
serpent was wiser" or as the Hebrew copies express it, "more subtle than all
the beasts of the earth, which the Lord God had made."(1) You see then that he
had fallen away from his angelic holiness even before he deceived the first
man, so that he not only deserved to be stamped with the ignominy of this
title, but actually excelled all other beasts of the earth in the subterfuges
of wickedness. For Holy Scripture would not have designated a good angel by
such a term, nor would it say of those who were still continuing in that state
of bliss: "But the serpent was wiser than all the beasts of the earth." For
this title could not possibly be applied I say not to Gabriel or Michael, but
it would not even be suitable to any good man. And so the title of serpent and
the comparison to beasts most clearly suggests not the dignity of an angel but
the infamy of an apostate. Finally the occasion of the envy and seduction,
which led him to deceive man, arose from the ground of his previous fall, in
that he saw that man, who had but recently been formed out of the dust of the
ground, was to be called to that glory, from which he remembered that he
himself, while still one of the princes, had fallen. And so that first fall of
his, which was due to pride, and which obtained for him the name of the
serpent, was followed by a second owing to envy: and as this one found him
still in the possession of something upright so that he could enjoy some
interchange of conference and counsel with man, by the Lord's sentence he was
very properly cast down to the lowest depth, that he might no longer walk as
before erect, and looking up on high, but should cleave to the ground and
creep along, and be brought low upon his belly and feed upon the earthly food
and works of sins, and henceforward proclaim his secret hostility, and put
between himself and man an enmity that is to our advantage, and a discord that
is to our profit, so that while men are on their guard against him as a
dangerous enemy, he can no longer injure them by a deceptive show of
friendship.
CHAPTER XI.
The punishment of the deceiver and the deceived.
BUT we ought in this matter, in order that we may shun evil counsels, to
learn a special lesson from the fact that though the author of the deception
was visited with a fitting punishment and condemnation, yet still the one who
was led astray did not go scot free from punishment, although it was somewhat
lighter than that of him who was the author of the deception. And this we see
was very plainly expressed. For Adam who was deceived, or rather (to use the
Apostle's words) "was not deceived" but, acquiescing in the wishes of her who
was deceived, seems to have come to yield a consent that was deadly, is only
condemned to labour and the sweat of his brow, which is assigned to him not by
means of a curse upon himself, but by means of a curse upon the ground, and
its barrenness. But the woman, who persuaded him to this, is visited with an
increase of anguish, and pains and sorrow, and also given over to the yoke of
perpetual subjection. But the serpent who was the first to incite them to this
offence, is punished by a lasting curse. Wherefore we should with the utmost
care and circumspection be on our guard against evil counsels, for as they
bring punishment upon their authors, so too they do not suffer those who are
deceived by them to go free from guilt and punishment.
CHAPTER XII.
Of the crowd of the devils, and the disturbance which they
always raise in our atmosphere.
BUT the atmosphere which extends between heaven and earth is ever filled
with a thick crowd of spirits, which do not fly about in it quietly or idly,
so that most fortunately the divine providence has withdrawn them from human
sight. For through fear of their attacks, or horror at the forms, into which
they transform and turn themselves at will, men would either be driven out of
their wits by an insufferable dread, and faint away, from inability to look on
such things with bodily eyes, or else would daily grow worse and worse, and be
corrupted by their constant example and by imitating them, and thus there
would arise a sort of dangerous familiarity and deadly intercourse between men
and the unclean powers of the air, whereas those crimes which are now
committed among men, are concealed either by walls and enclosures or by
distance and space, or by some shame and confusion: but if they could always
look on them with open face, they would be stimulated to a greater pitch of
insanity, as there would not be a single moment in which they would see them
desist from their
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wickedness, since no bodily weariness, or occupation in business or care for
their daily food (as in our case) forces them sometimes even against their
will to desist from the purposes they, have begun to carry out.
CHAPTER XIII.
Of the fact that opposing powers turn the attack, which they
aim at men, even against each other.
FOR it is quite clear that they aim these attacks, with which they assault
men, even against each other, for in like manner they do not cease to promote
with unwearied strife the discords and struggles which they have undertaken
for some peoples because of a sort of innate love of wickedness which they
have: and this we read of as being very clearly set forth in the vision of
Daniel the prophet, where the angel Gabriel speaks as follows: "Fear not,
Daniel: for from the first day that thou didst set thy heart to understand, to
afflict thyself in the sight of thy God, thy words have been heard: and I am
come for thy words. But the prince of the kingdom of the Persians resisted me
one and twenty days: and behold Michael one of the chief princes came to help
me, and I remained there by the king of the Persians. But I am come to teach
thee what thinks shall befall thy people in the latter days."(1) And we can
not possibly doubt that this prince of the kingdom of the Persians was a
hostile power, which favoured the nation of the Persians an enemy of God's
people; for in order to hinder the good which it saw would result from the
solution of the question for which the prophet prayed the Lord, by the
archangel, in its jealousy it opposed itself to prevent the saving comfort of
the angel from reaching Daniel too speedily, and from strengthening the people
of God, over which the archangel Gabriel was: and the latter said that even
then, owing to the fierceness of his assaults, he would not have been able to
come to him, had not Michael the archangel come to help him, and met the
prince of the kingdom of the Persians, and joined battle with him, and
intervened, and defended him from his attack, and so enabled him to come to
instruct the prophet after twenty-one days. And a little later on it says:
"And the angel said: Dost thou know wherefore I am come to thee? And now I
will return to fight against the prince of the Persians. For when I went
forth, there appeared the prince of the Greeks coming. But I will tell thee
what is written down in the Scriptures of truth: and none is my helper in all
these things but Michael your prince."(2) And again: "At that time shall
Michael rise up, the great prince, who standeth for the children of thy
people."(3) So then we read that in the same way another was called the prince
of the Greeks, who since he was patron of that nation which was subject to him
seems to have been opposed to the nation of the Persians as well as to the
people of Israel. From which we clearly see that antagonistic powers raise
against each other those quarrels of nations, and conflicts and dissensions,
which they show among themselves at their instigation, and that they either
exult at their victories or are cast down at their defeats, and thus cannot
live in harmony among themselves, while each of them is always striving with
restless jealousy on behalf of those whom he presides over, against the patron
of some other nation.
CHAPTER XIV.
How it is that spiritual wickednesses obtained the names of
powers or principalities.
WE can then see clear reasons, in addition to those ideas which we
expounded above, why they are called principalities or powers; viz., because
they rule and preside over different nations, and at least hold sway over
inferior spirits and demons, of which the gospels give us evidence by their
own confession that there exist legions. For they could not be called lords
unless they had some over whom to exercise the sway of lordship; nor could
they be called powers or principalities, unless there were some over whom they
could claim power: and this we find pointed out very clearly in the gospel by
the Pharisees in their blasphemy: "He casteth out devils by Beelzebub the
prince of the devils,"(4) for we find that they are also called "rulers of
darkness,"(5) and that one of them is styled "the prince of this world."(6)
But the blessed Apostle declares that hereafter, when all things shall be
subdued to Christ, these orders shall be destroyed, saying: "When He shall
have delivered up the kingdom to God even the Father, when He shall have
destroyed all principalities and powers and dominions."(7) And this certainly
can only take place if they are removed from the sway of those over whom we
know that powers and dominions and principalities take charge in this world.
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CHAPTER XV.
Of the fact that it is not without reason that the names of angels and
archangels are given to holy and heavenly powers.
FOR no one doubts that not without cause or reason are the same titles of
rank assigned to the better sort, and that they are names of office and of
worth or dignity, for it is plain that they are termed angels, i.e.,
messengers from their office of bearing messages, and the appropriateness of
the name teaches that they
are "archangels" because the preside over angels, "dominions" because they
hold dominion over certain persons, and "principalities" because they have
some to be princes over, and "thrones" because they are so near to God and so
privy and close to Him that the Divine Majesty specially rests in them as in a
Divine throne, and in a way reclines surely on them.
CHAPTER XVI.
Of the subjection of the devils, which they show to their own princes, as seen
in a brother's victim.
BUT that unclean spirits are ruled over by worse powers and are subject to
them we not only find from those passages of Scripture, recorded in the
gospels when the Pharisees maligned the Lord, and He answered "If I by
Beelzebub the prince of the devils cast out devils,"(1) but we are also taught
this by clear visions and many experiences of the saints, for when one of our
brethren was making a journey in this desert, as day was now declining he
found a cave and stopped there meaning to say his evening office in it, and
there midnight passed while he was still singing the Psalms. And when after he
had finished his office he sat down a little before refreshing his wearied
body, on a sudden he began to see innumerable troops Of demons gathering
together on all sides, who came forward in an immense crowd, and a long line,
some preceding and others following their prince; who at length arrived, being
taller and more dreadful to look at than all the others; and, a throne having
been placed, he sat down as on some lofty tribunal, and began to investigate
by a searching examination the actions of each one of them; and those who said
that they had not yet been able to circumvent their rivals, he commanded to be
driven out of his sight with shame and ignominy as idle and slothful, rebuking
them with angry wrath for the waste of so much time, and for their labour
thrown away: but those who reported that they had deceived those assigned to
them, he dismissed before all with the highest praise amidst the exultation
and applause of all, as most brave warriors, and most renowned as an example
to all the rest: and when in this number some most evil spirit had presented
himself, in delight at having to relate some magnificent triumph, he mentioned
the name of a very well known monk, and declared that after having incessantly
attacked him for fifteen years, he had at last got the better of him, so as to
destroy him that very same night by the sin of fornication, for that he had
not only impelled him to commit adultery with some consecrated maid, but had
actually persuaded him to keep her and marry her. And when there arose shouts
of joy at this narrative, he was extolled with the highest praise by the`
prince of darkness, and departed crowned with great honours. And so when at
break of day the whole swarm of demons had vanished from his eyes, the brother
being doubtful about the assertion of the unclean spirit, and rather thinking
that he had desired to entice him by an ancient customary deceit, and to brand
an innocent brother with the crime of incest, being mindful of those words of
the gospel; viz., that "he abode not in the truth because there is no truth in
him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own, for he is a liar, and its
father,"(2) he made his way to Pelusium, where he knew that the man lived,
whom the evil spirit declared to be destroyed: for the brother was very well
known to him, and when he had asked him, he found that on the same night on
which that foul demon had announced his downfall to his company and prince, he
had left his former monastery, and sought the town, and had gone astray by a
wretched fall with the girl mentioned.
CHAPTER XVII.
Of the fact that two angels always cling to every man.
FOR Holy Scripture bears witness that two angels, a good and a bad one,
cling to each one of us. And of the good ones the Saviour says: "Do not
despise one of these little ones; for I say unto you that their angels in
heaven do always behold the face of thy Father which is in heaven:"(3) and
this also: "the angel of the Lord shall encamp round about them that fear Him,
and deliver them."(4) Moreover this also which is said in
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the Acts of the Apostles, of Peter, that "it is his angel."(1) But of both
sorts the book of the Shepherd teaches us very fully.(2) But if we consider
about him who attacked the blessed Job we shall clearly learn that it was he
who always plotted against him but never could entice him to sin, and that
therefore he asked for power from the Lord, as he was worsted not by his
(Job's) virtue but by the Lord's protection which ever shielded him. Of Judas
also it is said: "And let the devil stand at his right hand."(3)
CHAPTER XVIII.
Of the degrees of wickedness which exist in hostile spirits, as shown in the
case of two philosophers.
BUT of the difference that there is between demons we have learnt a great
deal by means of those two philosophers who formerly by acts of magic had
oftentimes great experience both of their laziness and of their courage and
savage wickedness. For these looking down on the blessed Antony as a boor and
rustic, and wanting, if they could not injure him any further, at least to
drive him from his cell by illusions of magic and the devices of demons,
despatched against him most foul spirits. for they were impelled to this
attack upon him by the sting of jealousy because enormous crowds came daily to
him as the servant of God. And when these most savage demons did not even
venture to approach him as he was now signing his breast and forehead with the
sign of the cross, and, now devoting himself to prayer and supplication, they
returned without any result to those who had directed them; and these again
sent against him others more desperate in wickedness, and when these too had
spent their strength in vain, and returned without having accomplished
anything, and others still more powerful were nevertheless told off against
the victorious soldier of Christ, and could prevail nothing against him, all
these great plots of theirs devised with all the arts of magic were only
useful in proving the great value that there is in the profession of
Christians, so that those fierce and powerful shadows, which they thought
would veil the sun and moon if they were directed towards them, could not only
not injure him, but not even draw him forth from his monastery for a single
instant.
CHAPTER XIX.
Of the fact that devils cannot prevail at all against men unless they have
first secured possession of their minds.
AND when in their astonishment at this they came straight to Abbot Antony
and disclosed the extent of their attacks and the reason of them and their
plots, they dissembled their jealousy and asked that they might forthwith be
made Christians. But when he had asked of them the day when the assault was
made, he declared that at that time he had been afflicted with the most bitter
pangs of thought. And by this experience the blessed Antony proved and
established the opinion which we expressed yesterday in our Conference, that
demons cannot possibly find an entrance into the mind or body of anyone, nor
have they the power of overwhelming the soul of anyone, unless they have first
deprived it of all holy thoughts, and made it empty and free from spiritual
meditation. But you must know that unclean spirits are obedient to men in two
ways. For either they are by divine grace and power subject to the holiness of
the faithful, or they are captivated by the sacrifices of sinners, and certain
charms, and are flattered by them as their worshippers. And the Pharisees too
were led astray by this notion and fancied that by this device even the Lord
the Saviour gave commands to devils, and said "By Beelzebub the prince of the
devils He casteth out devils," in accordance with that plan by which they knew
that their own magicians and enchanters--by invoking his name and offering
sacrifices, with which they know he is pleased and delighted--have as his
servants power even over the devils who are subject to him.
CHAPTER XX.
A question about the fallen angels who are said in Genesis to have had
intercourse with the daughters of men.
GERMANUS: Since a passage of Genesis was a little while ago by the
providence of God brought forward in our midst, and happily reminded us that
we can now conveniently ask about a point which we have always longed to
learn, we want to know what view we ought to take about those fallen angels
who are said to have had intercourse with the daughters of men, and whether
such a thing can literally
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take place with a spiritual nature. And also with regard to this passage of
the gospel which you quoted of the devil a little while back, "for he is a
liar and his father,"(1) we should like in the same way to hear who is to be
understood by "his father."
CHAPTER XXI.
The answer to the question raised.
SERENUS: You have propounded two not unimportant questions, to which I
will reply, to the best of my ability, in the order in which you have raised
them. We cannot possibly believe that spiritual existences can have carnal
intercourse with women. But if this could ever have literally happened how is
it that it does not now also sometimes take place, and that we do not see some
in the same way born of women by the agency of demons without intercourse with
men? especially when it is clear that they delight in the pollution of lust,
which they would certainly prefer to bring about through their own agency
rather than through that of men, if they could possibly manage it, as
Ecclesiastes declares: "What is it that hath been? The same that is. And what
is it that hath been done? The same that is done. And there is nothing new
that can be said under the sun, so that a man can say: Behold this is new; for
it hath already been in the ages which were before us."(2) But the question
raised may be resolved in this way. After the death of righteous Abel, in
order that the whole human race might not spring from a wicked fratricide,
Seth was born in the place of his brother who was slain, to take the place of
his brother not only as regards posterity, but also as regards justice and
goodness. And his offspring, following the example of their father's goodness,
always remained separate from intercourse with and the society of their
kindred descended from the wicked Cain, as the difference of the genealogy
very clearly tells us, where it says: "Adam begat Seth, Seth begat Enos, Enos
begat Cainan, but Cainan begat Mahalaleel, but Mahalaleel begat Jared, Jared
begat Enoch, Enoch begat Methuselah, Methuselah begat Lamech, Lamech begat
Noah."(3) And the genealogy of Cain is given separately as follows: "Cain
begat Enoch, Enoch begat Cainan, Cainan begat Mahalaleel, Mahalaleel begat
Methuselah, Methuselah begat Lamech, Lamech begat Jabal and Jubal."(4) And so
the line which sprang from the seed of righteous Seth always mixed with its
own kith and kin, and continued for a long while in the holiness of its
fathers and ancestors, untouched by the blasphemies and the wickedness of an
evil offspring, which had implanted in it a seed of sin as it were transmitted
by its ancestors. As long then as there continued that separation of the lines
between them, the seed of Seth, as it sprang from an excellent root, was by
reason of its sanctity termed "angels of God," or as some copies have it "sons
of God;"(5) and on the contrary the others by reason of their own and their
fathers' wickedness and their earthly deeds were termed "children of men."
Though then there was up to this time that holy and salutary separation
between them, yet after this the sons of Seth who were the sons of God saw the
daughters of those who were born of the line of Cain, and inflamed with the
desire for their beauty took to themselves from them wives who taught their
husbands the wickedness of their fathers, and at once led them astray from
their innate holiness and the single-mindedness of their forefathers. To whom
this saying applies with sufficient accuracy: "I have said: Ye are Gods, and
ye are all the children of the Most High. But ye shall die like men, and fall
like one of the princes;"(6) who fell away from that true study of natural
philosophy, handed down to them by their ancestors, which the first man who
forthwith traced out the study of all nature, could clearly attain to, and
transmit to his descendants on sure grounds, inasmuch as he had seen the
infancy of this world, while still as it were tender and throbbing and
unorganized; and as there was in him not only such fulness of wisdom, but also
the grace of prophecy given by the Divine inspiration, so that while he was
still an untaught inhabitant of this world he gave names to all living
creatures, and not only knew about the fury and poison of all kinds of beasts
and serpents, but also distinguished between the virtues of plants and trees
and the natures of stones, and the changes of seasons of which he had as vet
no experience, so that he could well say: "The Lord
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hath given me the true knowledge of the things that are, to know the
disposition of the whole world, and the virtues of the elements, the beginning
and the ending and the midst of times, the alterations of their courses and
the changes of their seasons, the revolutions of the year and the disposition
of the stars, the natures of living creatures and the rage of wild beasts, the
force of winds, and the reasonings of men, the diversities of plants and the
virtues of roots, and all such things as are hid and open I have learnt."(1)
This knowledge then of all nature the seed of Seth received through successive
generations, handed down from the fathers, so long as it remained separate
from the wicked line, and as it had received it in holiness, so it made use of
it to promote the glory of God and the needs of everyday life. But when it had
been mingled with the evil generation, it drew aside at the suggestion of
devils to profane and harmful uses what it had innocently learnt, and
audaciously taught by it the curious arts of wizards and enchantments and
magical superstitions, teaching its posterity to forsake the holy worship of
the Divinity and to honour and worship either the elements or fire or the
demons of the air. How it was then that this knowledge of curious arts of
which we have spoken, did not perish in the deluge, but became known to the
ages that followed, should, I think, be briefly explained, as the occasion of
this discussion suggests, although the answer to the question raised scarcely
requires it. And so, as ancient traditions tell us, Ham the son of Noah, who
had been taught these superstitions and wicked and profane arts, as he knew
that he could not possibly bring any handbook on these subjects into the ark,
into which he was to enter with his good father and holy brothers, inscribed
these nefarious arts and profane devices on plates of various metals which
could not be destroyed by the flood of waters, and on hard rocks, and when the
flood was over he hunted for them with the same inquisitiveness with which he
had concealed them, and so transmitted to his descendants a seed-bed of
profanity and perpetual sin. In this way then that common notion, according to
which men believe that angels delivered to men enchantments and diverse arts,
is in truth fulfilled. From these sons of Seth then and daughters of Cain, as
we have said, there were I born still worse children who became mighty,
hunters, violent and most fierce men who were termed giants by reason of the
size of their bodies and their cruelty and wickedness. For these first began
to harass their neighbours and to practise pillaging among men, getting their
living rather by rapine than by being contented with the sweat and labour of
toil, and their wickedness increased to such a pitch that the world could only
be purified by the flood and deluge. So then when the sons of Seth at the
instigation of their lust had transgressed that command which had been for a
long while kept by a natural instinct from the beginning of the world, it was
needful that it should afterwards be restored by the letter of the law: "Thou
shalt not give thy daughter to his son to wife, nor shalt thou take a wife of
his daughters to thy son; for they shall seduce your hearts to depart from
your God, and to follow their gods and serve them."(2)
CHAPTER XXII.
An objection, as to how an unlawful intermingling with the daughters of Cain
could be charged against the line of Seth before the prohibition of the law.
GERMANUS: If that command had been given to them, then the sin of breaking
it might fairly have been brought against them for their audacity in so
marrying. But since the observance of that separation had not yet been
established by any rule, how could that intermingling of races be counted
wrong in them, as it had not been forbidden by any command? For a law does not
ordinarily forbid crimes that are past, but those that are future.
CHAPTER XXIII.
The answer, that by the law of nature men were from the beginning liable to
judgment and punishment.
SERENUS: God at man's creation implanted in him naturally complete
knowledge of the law, and if this had been kept by man, as at the beginning,
according to the Lord's purposes, there would not have been any need for
another law to be given, which He afterwards proclaimed in writing: for it
were superfluous for an external remedy to be offered, where an internal one
was still implanted and vigorous. But since this had been, as we have said,
utterly corrupted by freedom and the opportunity of sinning, the severe
restrictions of the law of Moses were added as the executor and vindicator of
this (earlier law) and to use the expressions of Scripture, as its helper,
that through fear of immediate punishment men might be kept from altogether
losing the good of natural
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knowledge, according to the word of the prophet who says "He gave the law to
help them:"(1) and it is also described by the Apostle as having been given as
a schoolmaster(2) to little children, as it instructs and guards them to
prevent them from departing through sheer forgetfulness from the teaching in
which they had been instructed by the light of nature: for that the complete
knowledge of the law was implanted in man at his first creation, is clearly
proved from this; viz., that we know that before the law, aye, and even before
the flood, all holy men observed the commands of the law without having the
letter to read. For how could Abel, without the command of the law, have known
that he ought to offer to God a sacrifice of the firstlings of his flock and
of the fat thereof,(3) unless he had been taught by the law which was
naturally implanted in him? How could Noah have distinguished what animals
were clean and what were unclean,(4) when the commandment of the law had not
yet made a distinction, unless he had been taught by a natural knowledge?
Whence did Enoch learn how to "walk with God,"(5) having never acquired any
light of the law from another? Where had Shem and Japheth read "Thou shalt not
uncover the nakedness of thy father," so that they went backwards and covered
the shame of their father?(6) How was Abraham taught to abstain from the
spoils of the enemy which were offered to him, that he might not receive any
recompense for his toil, or to pay to the priest Melchizedec the tithes which
are ordered by the law of Moses?(7) How was it too that the same Abraham and
Lot also humbly offered to passers by and strangers offices of kindness and
the washing of their feet, while yet the Evangelic command had not shone
forth?(8) Whence did Job obtain such earnestness of faith, such purity of
chastity, such knowledge of humility, gentleness, pity and kindness, as we now
see shown not even by those who know the gospels by heart? Which of the saints
do we read of as not having observed some commandment of the law before the
giving of the law? Which of them failed to keep this: "Hear, O Israel, the
Lord thy God is one Lord?"(9) Which of them did not fulfil this: "Thou shalt
not make to thyself any graven image, nor the likeness of anything which is in
heaven or in the earth or under the earth?" Which of them did not observe
this: "Honour thy father and thy mother," or what follows in the Decalogue:
"Thou shalt do no murder; Thou shalt not commit adultery; Thou shalt not
steal; Thou shalt not bear false witness; Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's
wife,"(10) and many other things besides, in which they anticipated the
commands not only of the law but even of the gospel?
CHAPTER XXIV.
Of the fact that they were justly punished, who sinned before
the flood.
And so then we see that from the beginning God created everything perfect,
nor would there have been need for anything to have been added to His original
arrangement--as if it were shortsighted and imperfect--if everything had
continued in that state and condition in which it had been created by Him. And
therefore in the case of those who sinned before the law and even before the
flood we see that God visited them with a righteous judgment, because they
deserved to be punished without any excuse, for having transgressed the law of
nature; nor should we fall into the blasphemous slanders of those who are
ignorant of this reason, and so depreciate the God of the Old Testament, and
run down our faith, and say with a sneer: Why then did it please your God to
will to promulgate the law after so many thousand years, While He suffered
such long ages to pass without any law? But if He afterwards discovered
something better, then it appears that at the beginning of the world His
wisdom was inferior and poorer, and that afterwards as if taught by experience
He began to provide for something better, and to amend and improve His
original arrangements. A thing which certainly cannot happen to the infinite
foreknowledge of God, nor can these assertions be made about Him by the mad
folly of heretics without grievous blasphemy, as Ecclesiastes says: "I have
learnt that all the words which God hath made from the beginning shall
continue forever: nothing can be added to them, and nothing can be taken away
from them,"(11) and therefore "the law is not made for the righteous, but for
the unrighteous, and insubordinate, for the ungodly and sinners, for the
wicked and profane."(12) For as they had the sound and complete system of
natural laws implanted in them they had no need of this external law in
addition, and one committed to writing, and what was given as an aid to that
natural law. From which we infer by the clearest of reasonings that that law
committed to writing need not have been given at the beginning (for it was
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unnecessary for this to be done while the natural law still remained, and was
not utterly violated) nor could evangelical perfection have been granted
before the law had been kept. For they could not have listened to this saying:
"If a man strikes thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other also,"(1) who
were not content to avenge wrongs done to them with the even justice of the
lex talionis, but repaid a very slight touch with deadly kicks and wounds with
weapons, and for a single truth sought to take the life of those who had
struck them. Nor could it be said to them, "love your enemies,"(2) among whom
it was considered a great thing and most important if they loved their
friends, but avoided their enemies and dissented from them only in hatred
without being eager to oppress and kill them.
CHAPTER XXV.
How this that is said of the devil in the gospel is to be understood; viz.,
that "he is a liar, and his father."
But as for this which disturbed you about the devil, that "he is a liar
and his father,"(3) as if it seemed that he and his father were pronounced by
the Lord to be liars, it is sufficiently ridiculous to imagine this even
cursorily. For as we said a little while ago spirit does not beget spirit just
as soul cannot procreate soul, though we do not doubt that the compacting of
flesh is formed from man's seed, as the Apostle clearly distinguishes in the
case of both substances; viz., flesh and spirit, what should be ascribed to
whom as its author, and says: "Moreover we have had fathers of our flesh for
instructors, and we reverenced them: shall we not much more be in subjection
to the Father of spirits and live? "(4) What could show more clearly than this
distinction, that he laid down that men were the fathers of our flesh, but
always taught that God alone was the Father of souls. Although even in the
actual compacting of this body a ministerial office alone must be attributed
to men, but the chief part of its formation to God the Creator of all, as
David says: "Thy hands have made me and fashioned me:"(5) And the blessed Job:
"Hast thou not milked me as milk, and curdled me as cheese? Thou hast put me
together with bones and sinews;"(6) and the Lord to Jeremiah: "Before I formed
thee in the womb, I knew thee."(7) But Ecclesiastes very clearly and
accurately gathers the nature of either substance, and its beginning, by an
examination of the rise and commencement, from which each originated, and by a
consideration of the end to which each is tending, and decides also of the
division of this body and soul, and discourses as follows: "Before the dust
returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns unto God who gave
it."(8) But what could be said with greater plainness than that he declares
that the matter of the flesh which he styled dust, because it springs from the
seed of man, and seems to be sown by his ministration, mush as it was taken
from the earth, again return to the earth, while he points out that the spirit
which is not begotten by intercourse between the sexes, but belongs to God
alone in a special way, returns to its creator? And this also is clearly
implied in that breathing by God, through which Adam in the first instance
received his life. And so from these passages we clearly infer that no one can
be called the Father of spirits but God alone, who makes them out of nothing
whenever He pleases, while men can only be termed the fathers of our flesh. So
then the devil also in as much as he was created a spirit or an angel and
good, had no one as his Father but God his Maker. But when he had become
puffed up by pride and had said in his heart: "I will ascend above the heights
of the clouds, I will be like the Most High,"(9) he became a liar, and "abode
not in the truth;"(10) but brought forth a lie from his own storehouse of
wickedness and so became not only a liar, but also the father of the actual
lie, by which when he promised Divinity to man and said "Ye shall be as
gods,"(11) he abode not in the truth, but from the beginning became a
murderer, both by bringing Adam into a state of mortality, and by slaying Abel
by the hand of his brother at his suggestion. But already the approach of dawn
is bringing to a close our discussion, which has occupied nearly two whole
nights, and our brief and simple words have drawn our bark of this Conference
from the deep sea of questions to a safe harbour of silence, in which deep
indeed, as the breath of the Divine Spirit drives us further in, so is there
ever opened out a wider and boundless space reaching beyond the sight of our
eye, and, as Solomon says, "It will become much further from us than it was,
and a great depth; who shall find it out?"(12) Wherefore let us pray the Lord
that both His fear and His love, which cannot fail, may continue steadfast in
us, and make us wise in all things, and ever shield us unharmed, from the
darts
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of the devil. For with these guards it is impossible for anyone to fall into
the snares of death. But there is this difference between the perfect and
imperfect, that in the case of the former love is steadfast, and so to speak
riper and lasts more abidingly and so makes them persevere in holiness more
steadfastly and more easily, while in the case of the latter its position is
weaker and it more easily grows cold, and so quickly and more frequently
allows them to be entangled in the snares of sin. And when we heard this, the
words of this Conference so fired us that when we went away from the old man's
cell we longed with a keener ardour of soul than when we first came, for the
fulfilment of his teaching.
CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.
IX. THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC.
ON PRAYER.
CHAPTER I.
Introduction to the Conference.
What was promised in the second book of the Institutes(1) on continual and
unceasing perseverance in prayer, shall be by the Lord's help fulfilled by the
Conferences of this EIder, whom we will now bring forward; viz., Abbot
Isaac:(2) and when these have been propounded I think that I shall have
satisfied the commands of Pope Castor of blessed memory, and your wishes, O
blessed Pope Leontius and holy brother Helladius, and the length of the book
in its earlier part may be excused, though, in spite of our endeavour not only
to compress what had to be told into a brief discourse, but also to pass over
very many points in silence, it has been extended to a greater length than we
intended. For having commenced with a full discourse on various regulations
which we have thought it well to curtail for the sake of brevity, at the close
the blessed Isaac spoke these words.
CHAPTER II.
The words of Abbot Isaac on the nature of prayer.
The aim of every monk and the perfection of his heart tends to continual
and unbroken perseverance in prayer, and, as far as it is allowed to human
frailty, strives to acquire an immovable tranquillity of mind and a perpetual
purity, for the sake of which we seek unweariedly and constantly to practise
all bodily labours as well as contrition of spirit. And there is between these
two a sort of reciprocal and inseparable union. For just as the crown of the
building of all virtues is the perfection of prayer, so unless everything has
been united and compacted by this as its crown, it cannot possibly continue
strong and stable. For lasting and continual calmness in prayer, of which we
are speaking, cannot be secured or consummated without them, so neither can
those virtues which lay its foundations be fully gained without persistence in
it. And so we shall not be able either to treat properly of the effect of
prayer, or in a rapid discourse to penetrate to its main end, which is
acquired by labouring at all virtues, unless first all those things which for
its sake must be either rejected or secured, are singly enumerated and
discussed, and, as the Parable in the gospel teaches,(3) whatever concerns the
building of that spiritual and most lofty tower, is reckoned up and carefully
considered beforehand. But yet these things when prepared will be of no use
nor allow the lofty height of perfection to be properly placed upon them
unless a clearance of all faults be first undertaken, and the decayed and dead
rubbish of the passions be dug up, and the strong foundations of simplicity
and humility be laid on the solid and (so to speak) living soil of our breast,
or rather on that rock of the gospel,(4) and by being built in this way this
tower of spiritual virtues will rise, and be able to stand unmoved, and be
raised to the utmost heights of heaven in full assurance of its, stability.
For if it rests
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on such foundations, then though heavy storms of passions break over it,
though mighty torrents of persecutions beat against it like a battering ram,
though a furious tempest of spiritual foes dash against it and attack it, yet
not only will no ruin overtake it, but the onslaught will not injure it even
in the slightest degree.
CHAPTER III.
How pure and sincere prayer can be gained.
And therefore in order that prayer may be offered up with that earnestness
and purity with which it ought to be, we must by all means observe these
rules. First all anxiety about carnal things must be entirely got rid of; next
we must leave no room for not merely the care but even the recollection of any
business affairs, and in like manner also must lay aside all backbitings, vain
and incessant chattering, and buffoonery; anger above all and disturbing
moroseness must be entirely destroyed, and the deadly taint of carnal lust and
covetousness be torn up by the roots. And so when these and such like faults
which are also visible to the eyes of men, are entirely removed and cut off,
and when such a purification and cleansing, as we spoke of, has first taken
place, which is brought about by pure simplicity and innocence, then first
there must be laid the secure foundations of a deep humility, which may be
able to support a tower that shall reach the sky; and next the spiritual
structure of the virtues must be built up upon them, and the soul kept free
from all conversation and from roving thoughts that thus it may by little and
little begin to rise to the contemplation of God and to spiritual insight. For
whatever our mind has been thinking of before the hour of prayer, is sure to
occur to us while we are praying through the activity of the memory. Wherefore
what we want to find ourselves like while we are praying, that we ought to
prepare ourselves to be before the time for prayer. For the mind in prayer is
formed by its previous condition, and when we are applying ourselves to prayer
the images of the same actions and words and thoughts will dance before our
eyes, and make us either angry, as in Our previous condition, or gloomy, or
recall our former lust and business, or make us shake with foolish laughter
(which I am ashamed to speak of) at some silly joke, or smile at some action,
or fly back to our previous conversation. And therefore if we do not want
anything to haunt us while we are praying, we should be careful before our
prayer, to exclude it from the shrine of our heart, that we may thus fulfill
the Apostle's injunction: "Pray without ceasing;" and: "In every place lifting
up holy hands without wrath or disputing."(1) For otherwise we shall not be
able to carry out that charge unless our mind, purified from all stains of
sin, and given over to virtue as to its natural good, feed on the continual
contemplation of Almighty God.
CHAPTER IV.
Of the lightness of the soul which may be compared to a
wing or feather.
For the nature of the soul is not inaptly compared to a very fine feather
or very light wing, which, if it has not been damaged or affected by being
spoilt by any moisture falling on it from without, is borne aloft almost
naturally to the heights of heaven by the lightness of its nature, and the aid
of the slightest breath: but if it is weighted by any moisture falling upon it
and penetrating into it, it will not only not be carried away by its natural
lightness into any aerial flights but will actually be borne down to the
depths of earth by the weight of the moisture it has received. So also our
soul, if it is not weighted with faults that touch it, and the cares of this
world, or damaged by the moisture of injurious lusts, will be raised as it
were by the natural blessing of its own purity and borne aloft to the heights
by the light breath of spiritual meditation; and leaving things low and
earthly will be transported to those that are heavenly and invisible.
Wherefore we are well warned by the Lord's command: "Take heed that your
hearts be not weighed down by surfeiting and drunkenness and the cares of this
world."(2) And therefore if we want our prayers to reach not only the sky, but
what is beyond the sky, let us be careful to reduce our soul, purged from all
earthly faults and purified from every stain, to its natural lightness, that
so our prayer may rise to God unchecked by the weight of any sin.
CHAPTER V.
Of the ways in which our soul is weighed down.
But we should notice the ways in which the Lord points out that the soul
is weighed down: for He did not mention adultery, or fornication, or murder,
or blasphemy, or rapine, which everybody knows to be deadly and
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damnable, but surfeiting and drunkenness, and the cares or anxieties of this
world: which men of this world are so far from avoiding or considering
damnable that actually some who (I am ashamed to say) call themselves monks
entangle themselves in these very occupations as if they were harmless or
useful. And though these three things, when literally given way to weigh down
the soul, and separate it from God, and bear it down to things earthly, yet it
is very easy to avoid them, especially for us who are separated by so great a
distance from all converse with this world, and who do not on any occasion
have anything to do with those visible cares and drunkenness and surfeiting.
But there is another surfeiting which is no less dangerous, and a spiritual
drunkenness which it is harder to avoid, and a care and anxiety of this world,
which often ensnares us even after the perfect renunciation of all our goods,
and abstinence from wine and all feastings and even when we are living in
solitude--and of such the prophet says: "Awake, ye that are drunk but not with
wine;"(1) and another: "Be astonished and wonder and stagger: be drunk and not
with wine: be moved, but not with drunkenness."(2) And of this drunkenness the
wine must consequently be what the prophet calls "the fury of dragons": and
from what root the wine comes you may hear: "From the vineyard of Sodom," he
says, "is their vine, and their branches from Gomorrha." Would you also know
about the fruit of that vine and the seed of that branch? "Their grape is a
grape of gall, theirs is a cluster of bitterness"(3) for unless we are
altogether cleansed from all faults and abstaining from the surfeit of all
passions, our heart will without drunkenness from wine and excess of any
feasting be weighed down by a drunkenness and surfeiting that is still more
dangerous. For that worldly cares can sometimes fall on us who mix with no
actions of this world, is clearly shown according to the rule of the Elders,
who have laid down that anything which goes beyond the necessities of daily
food, and the unavoidable needs of the flesh, belongs to worldly cares and
anxieties, as for example if, when a job bringing in a penny would satisfy the
needs of our body, we try to extend it by a longer toil and work in order to
get twopence or threepence; and when a covering of two tunics would be enough
for our use both by night and day, we manage to become the owners of three or
four, or when a hut containing one or two cells would be sufficient, in the
pride of worldly ambition and greatness we build four or five cells, and these
splendidly decorated, and larger than our needs required, thus showing the
passion of worldly lusts whenever we can.
CHAPTER VI.
Of the vision which a certain Elder saw concerning the rest-
less work of a brother.
And that this is not done without the prompting of devils we are taught by
the surest proofs, for when one very highly esteemed EIder was passing by the
cell of a certain brother who was suffering from this mental disease of which
we have spoken, as he was restlessly toiling in his daily occupations in
building and repairing what was unnecessary, he watched him from a distance
breaking a very hard stone with a heavy hammer, and saw a certain Ethiopian
standing over him and together with him striking the blows of the hammer with
joined and clasped hands, and urging him on with fiery incitements to
diligence in the work: and so he stood still for a long while in astonishment
at the force of the fierce demon and the deceitfulness of such an illusion.
For when the brother was worn out and tired and wanted to rest and put an end
to his toil, he was stimulated by the spirit's prompting and urged on to
resume his hammer again and not to cease from devoting himself to the work
which he had begun, so that being unweariedly supported by his incitements he
did not feel the harm that so great labour was doing him. At last then the old
man, disgusted at such a horrid mystification by a demon, turned aside to the
brother's cell and saluted him, and asked "what work is it, brother, that you
are doing?" and he replied: "We are working at this awfully hard stone, and we
can hardly break it at all." Whereupon the Elder replied: "You were right in
saying 'we can,' for you were not alone, when you were striking it, but there
was another with you whom you did not see, who was standing over you not so
much to help you as urge you on with all his force." And thus the fact that
the disease of worldly vanity has not got hold of our hearts, will be proved
by no mere abstinence from those affairs which even if we want to engage in,
we cannot carry out, nor by the despising of those matters which if we pursued
them would make us remarkable in the front rank among spiritual persons as
well as among worldly men, but only when we reject with inflexible firmness of
mind whatever ministers to our power and seems to be veiled in a show of
right. And in reality these things which seem trivial
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and of no consequence, and which we see to be permitted indifferently by those
who belong to our calling, none the less by their character affect the soul
than those more important things, which according to their condition usually
intoxicate the senses of worldly people and which do not allow(1) a monk to
lay aside earthly impurities and aspire to God, on whom his attention should
ever be fixed; for in his case even a slight separation from that highest good
must be regarded as present death and most dangerous destruction. And when the
soul has been established in such a peaceful condition, and has been freed
from the meshes of all carnal desires, and the purpose of the heart has been
steadily fixed on that which is the only highest good, he will then fulfil
this Apostolic precept: "Pray without ceasing;" and: "in every place lifting
up holy hands without wrath and disputing:"(2) for when by this purity (if we
can say so) the thoughts of the soul are engrossed, and are re-fashioned out
of their earthly condition to bear a spiritual and angelic likeness, whatever
it receives, whatever it takes in hand, whatever it does, the prayer will be
perfectly pure and sincere.
CHAPTER VII.
A question how it is that it is harder work to preserve than to
originate good thoughts.
Germanus: If only we could keep as a lasting possession those spiritual
thoughts in the same way and with the same ease with which we generally
conceive their germs! for when they have been conceived in our hearts either
through the recollection of the Scriptures or by the memory of some spiritual
actions, or by gazing upon heavenly mysteries, they vanish all too soon and
disappear by a sort of unnoticed flight. And when our soul has discovered some
other occasions for spiritual emotions, different ones again crowd in upon us,
and those which we had grasped are scattered, and lightly fly away so that the
mind retaining no persistency, and keeping of its own power no firm hand over
holy thoughts, must be thought, even when it does seem to retain them for a
while, to have conceived them at random and not of set purpose. For how can we
think that their rise should be ascribed to our own will, if they do not last
and remain with us? But that we may not owing to the consideration of this
question wander any further from the plan of the discourse we had commenced,
or delay any longer the explanation promised of the nature of prayer, we will
keep this for its own time, and ask to be informed at once of the character of
prayer, especially as the blessed Apostle exhorts us at no time to cease from
it, saying "Pray without ceasing." And so we want to be taught first of its
character, i.e., how prayer ought always to be offered up, and then how we can
secure this, whatever it is, and practise it without ceasing. For that it
cannot be done by any light purpose of heart both daily experience and the
explanation of four holiness show us, as you have laid it down that the aim of
a monk, and the height of all perfection consist in the consummation of
prayer.
CHAPTER VIII.
Of the different characters of prayer.
ISAAC: I imagine that all kinds of prayers cannot be grasped without great
purity of heart and soul and the illumination of the Holy Spirit. For there
are as many of them as there can be conditions and characters produced in one
soul or rather in all souls. And so although we know that owing to our dulness
of heart we cannot see all kinds of prayers, yet we will try to relate them in
some order, as far as our slender experience enables us to succeed. For
according to the degree of the purity to which each soul attains, and the
character of the state in which it is sunk owing to what happens to it, or is
by its own efforts renewing itself, its very prayers will each moment be
altered: and therefore it is quite clear that no one can always offer up
uniform prayers. For every one prays in one way when he is brisk, in another
when he is oppressed with a weight of sadness or despair, in another when he
is invigorated by spiritual achievements, in another when cast down by the
burden of attacks, in another when he is asking pardon for his sins, in
another when he asks to obtain grace or some virtue or else prays for the
destruction of some sin, in another when he is pricked to the heart by the
thought of hell and the fear of future judgment, in another when he is aglow
with the hope and desire of good things to come, in another when he is taken
up with affairs and dangers, in another when he is in peace and security, in
another when he is enlightened by the revelation of heavenly mysteries, and in
another when he is depressed by a sense of barrenness in virtues and dryness
in feeling.
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CHAPTER IX.
Of the fourfold nature of prayer.
AND therefore, when we have laid this down with regard to the character of
prayer, although not so fully as the importance of the subject requires, but
as fully as the exigencies of time permit, and at any rate as our slender
abilities admit, and our dulness of heart enables us,--a still greater
difficulty now awaits us; viz., to expound one by one the different kinds of
prayer, which the Apostle divides in a fourfold manner, when he says as
follows: "I exhort therefore first of all that supplications, prayers,
intercessions, thanksgivings be made."(1) And we cannot possibly doubt that
this division was not idly made by the Apostle. And to begin with we must
investigate what is meant by supplication, by prayer, by intercession, and by
thanksgiving. Next we must inquire whether these four kinds are to be taken in
hand by him who prays all at once, i.e., are they all to be joined together in
every prayer,--or whether they are to be offered up in turns and one by one,
as, for instance, ought at one time supplications, at another prayers, at
another intercessions, and at another thanksgivings to be offered, or should
one man present to God supplications, another prayers, another intercessions,
another thanksgivings, in accordance with that measure of age, to which each
soul is advancing by earnestness of purpose?
CHAPTER X.
Of the order of the different kinds laid down with regard to the
character of prayer.
AND so to begin with we must consider the actual force of the names and
words, and discuss what is the difference between prayer and supplication and
intercession; then in like manner we must investigate whether they are to be
offered separately or all together; and in the third place must examine
whether the particular order which is thus arranged by the Apostle's authority
has anything further to teach the hearer, or whether the distinction simply is
to be taken, and it should be considered that they were arranged by him
indifferently in such a way: a thing which seems to me utterly absurd. For one
must not believe that the Holy Spirit uttered anything casually or without
reason through the Apostle. And so we will, as the Lord grants us, consider
them in the same order in which we began.
CHAPTER XI.
Of Supplications.
"I EXHORT therefore first of all that supplications be made." Supplication
is an imploring or petition concerning sins, in which one who is sorry for his
present or past deeds asks for pardon.
CHAPTER XII.
Of Prayer.
PRAYERS are those by which we offer or vow something to God, what the
Greeks call eukh, i.e., a vow. For where we read in Greek
ias eukas mou tw
curiw apodwsw, in Latin we read: "I will pay my
vows unto the Lord;"(2) where according to the exact force of the words it may
be thus represented: "I will pay my prayers unto the Lord." And this which we
find in Ecclesiastes: "If thou vowest a vow unto the Lord do not delay to pay
it," is written in Greek likewise: ean euxh
eukhn tw curiw i.e., "If thou
prayest a prayer unto the Lord, do not delay to pay it,"(3) which will be
fulfilled in this way by each one of us. We pray, when we renounce this world
and promise that being dead to all worldly actions and the life of this world
we will serve the Lord with full purpose of heart. We pray when we promise
that despising secular honours and scorning earthly riches we will cleave to
the Lord in all sorrow of heart and humility of spirit. We pray when we
promise that we will ever maintain the most perfect purity of body and
steadfast patience, or when we vow that we will utterly root out of our heart
the roots of anger or of sorrow that worketh death. And if, enervated by sloth
and returning to our former sins we fail to do this we shall be guilty as
regards our prayers and vows, and these words will apply to us: "It is better
not and not to pay," which to vow, than to vow and not to pay can be rendered
in accordance with the Greek: "It is better for thee not to pray than to pray
and not to pay."(4)
CHAPTER XIII.
Of Intercession.
IN the third place stand intercessions, which we are wont to offer up for
others also, while we are filled with fervour of spirit, making request either
for those dear to us or
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for the peace of the whole world, and to use the Apostle's own phrase, we pray
"for all men, for kings and all that are in authority."(1)
CHAPTER XIV.
Of Thanksgiving.
THEN in the fourth place there stand thanksgivings which the mind in
ineffable transports offers up to God, either when it recalls God's past
benefits or when it contemplates His present ones, or when it looks forward to
those great ones in the future which God has prepared for them that love Him.
And with this purpose too sometimes we are wont to pour forth richer prayers,
while, as we gaze with pure eyes on those rewards of the saints which are laid
up in store hereafter, our spirit is stimulated to offer up unspeakable thanks
to God with boundless joy.
CHAPTER XV.
Whether these four kinds of prayers are necessary for everyone to offer all at
once or separately and in turns.
AND of these four kinds, although sometimes occasions arise for richer and
fuller prayers (for from the class of supplications which arises from sorrow
for sin, and from the kind of prayer which flows from confidence in our
offerings and the performance of our vows in accordance with a pure
conscience, and from the intercession which proceeds from fervour of love, and
from the thanksgiving which is born of the consideration of God's blessings
and His greatness and goodness, we know that oftentimes there proceed most
fervent and ardent prayers so that it is clear that all these kinds of prayer
of which we have spoken are found to be useful and needful for all men, so
that in one and the same man his changing feelings will give utterance to pure
and fervent petitions now of supplications, now of prayers, now of
intercessions) yet the first seems to belong more especially to beginners, who
are still troubled by the stings and recollection of their sins; the second to
those who have already attained some loftiness of mind in their spiritual
progress and the quest of virtue; the third to those who fulfil the completion
of their vows by their works, and are so stimulated to intercede for others
also through the consideration of their weakness, and the earnestness of their
love; the fourth to those who have already torn from their hearts the guilty
thorns of conscience, and thus being now free from care can contemplate with a
pure mind the beneficence of God and His compassions, which He has either
granted in the past, or is giving in the present, or preparing for the future,
and thus are borne onward with fervent hearts to that ardent prayer which
cannot be embraced or expressed by the mouth of men. Sometimes however the
mind which is advancing to that perfect state of purity and which is already
beginning to be established in it, will take in all these at one and the same
time, and like some incomprehensible and all-devouring flame, dart through
them all and offer up to God inexpressible prayers of the purest force, which
the Spirit Itself, intervening with groanings that cannot be uttered, while we
ourselves understand not, pours forth to God, grasping at that hour and
ineffably pouring forth in its supplications things so great that they cannot
be uttered with the mouth nor even at any other time be recollected by the
mind. And thence it comes that in whatever degree any one stands, he is found
sometimes to offer up pure and devout prayers; as even in that first and lowly
station which has to do with the recollection of future judgment, he who still
remains under the punishment of terror and the fear of judgment is so smitten
with sorrow for the time being that he is filled with no less keenness of
spirit from the richness of his supplications than he who through the purity
of his heart gazes on and considers the blessings of God and is overcome with
ineffable joy and delight. For, as the Lord Himself says, he begins to love
the more, who knows that he has been forgiven the more.(2)
CHAPTER XVI.
Of the kinds of prayer to which we ought to direct ourselves.
YET we ought by advancing in life and attaining to virtue to aim rather at
those kinds of prayer which are poured forth either from the contemplation of
the good things to come or from fervour of love, or which at least, to speak
more humbly and in accordance with the measure of beginners, arise for the
acquirement of some virtue or the extinction of some fault. For otherwise we
shall not possibly attain to those sublimer kinds of supplication of which we
spoke, unless our mind has been little by little and by degrees raised through
the regular course of those intercessions.
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CHAPTER XVII.
How the four kinds of supplication were originated by the
Lord.
THESE four kinds of supplication the Lord Himself by His own example
vouchsafed to originate for us, so that in this too He might fulfil that which
was said of Him: "which Jesus began both to do and to teach."(1) For He made
use of the class of supplication when He said: "Father, if it be possible, let
this cup pass from me;" or this which is chanted in His Person in the Psalm:
"My God, My God, look upon Me, why hast Thou forsaken me,"(2) and others like
it. It is prayer where He says: "I have magnified Thee upon the earth, I have
finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do," and this: "And for their sakes
I sanctify Myself that they also may be sanctified in the truth."(3) It is
intercession when He says: "Father, those Whom Thou hast given me, I will that
they also may be with Me that they may see My glory which Thou hast given Me;"
or at any rate when He says: "Father, forgive them for they know not what they
do."(4) It is thanksgiving when He says: "I confess to Thee, Father, Lord of
heaven and earth, that Thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent,
and hast revealed them unto babes. Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in
Thy sight:" or at least when He says: "Father, I thank Thee that Thou hast
heard Me. But I knew that Thou hearest Me always."(5) But though our Lord made
a distinction between these four kinds of prayers as to be offered separately
and one by one according to the scheme which we know of, yet that they can all
be embraced in a perfect prayer at one and the same time He showed by His own
example in that prayer which at the close of S. John's gospel we read that He
offered up with such fulness. From the words of which (as it is too long to
repeat it all) the careful inquirer can discover by the order of the passage
that this is so. And the Apostle also in his Epistle to the Philippians has
expressed the same meaning, by putting these four kinds of prayers in a
slightly different order, and has shown that they ought sometimes to be
offered together in the fervour of a single prayer, saying as follows: "But in
everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be
made known unto God."(6) And by this he wanted us especially to understand
that in prayer and supplication thanksgiving ought to be mingled with our
requests.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Of the Lord's Prayer.
AND so there follows after these different kinds of supplication a still
more sublime and exalted condition which is brought about by the contemplation
of God alone and by fervent love, by which the mind, transporting and flinging
itself into love for Him, addresses God most familiarly as its own Father with
a piety of its own. And that we ought earnestly to seek after this condition
the formula of the Lord's prayer teaches us, saying "Our Father." When then we
confess with our own mouths that the God and Lord of the universe is our
Father, we profess forthwith that we have been called from our condition as
slaves to the adoption of sons, adding next "Which art in heaven," that, by
shunning with the utmost horror all lingering in this present life, which we
pass upon this earth as a pilgrimage, and what separates us by a great
distance from our Father, we may the rather hasten with all eagerness to that
country where we confess that our Father dwells, and may not allow anything of
this kind, which would make us unworthy of this our profession and the dignity
of an adoption of this kind, and so deprive us as a disgrace to our Father's
inheritance, and make us incur the wrath of His justice and severity. To which
state and condition of sonship when we have advanced, we shall forthwith be
inflamed with the piety which belongs to good sons, so that we shall bend all
our energies to the advance not of our own profit, but of our Father's glory,
saying to Him: "Hallowed be Thy name," testifying that our desire and our joy
is His glory, becoming imitators of Him who said: "He who speaketh of himself,
seeketh his own glory. But He who seeks the glory of Him who sent Him, the
same is true and there is no unrighteousness in Him."(7) Finally the chosen
vessel being filled with this feeling wished that he could be anathema from
Christ(8) if only the people belonging to Him might be increased and
multiplied, and the salvation of the whole nation of Israel accrue to the
glory of His Father; for with all assurance could he wish to die for Christ as
he knew that no one perished for life. And again he says: "We
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rejoice when we are weak but ye are strong."(1) And what wonder if the chosen
vessel wished to be anathema from Christ for the sake of Christ's glory and
the conversion of His own brethren and the privilege of the nation, when the
prophet Micah wished that he might be a liar and a stranger to the inspiration
of the Holy Ghost, if only the people of the Jews might escape those plagues
and the going forth into captivity which he had announced in his prophecy,
saying: "Would that I were not a man that hath the Spirit, and that I rather
spoke a lie;"(2)--to pass over that wish of the Lawgiver, who did not refuse
to die together with his brethren who were doomed to death, saying: "I beseech
Thee, O Lord; this people hath sinned a heinous sin; either forgive them this
trespass, or if Thou do not, blot me out of Thy book which Thou hast
written."(3) But where it is said "Hallowed be Thy name," it may also be very
fairly taken in this way: "The hallowing of God is our perfection." And so
when we say to Him" Hallowed be Thy name" we say in other words, make us, O
Father, such that we maybe able both to understand and take in what the
hallowing of Thee is, or at any rite that Thou mayest be seen to be hallowed
in our spiritual converse. And this is effectually fulfilled in our case when
"men see our good works, and glorify our Father Which is in heaven."(4)
CHAPTER XIX.
Of the clause "Thy kingdom come."
THE second petition of the pure heart desires that the kingdom of its
Father may come at once; viz., either that whereby Christ reigns day by day in
the saints (which comes to pass when the devil's rule is cast out of our
hearts by the destruction of foul sins, and God begins to hold sway over us by
the sweet odour of virtues, and, fornication being overcome, charity reigns in
our hearts together with tranquillity, when rage is conquered; and humility,
when pride is trampled under foot) or else that which is promised in due time
to all who are perfect, and to all the sons of God, when it will be said to
them by Christ: "Come ye blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared
for you from the foundation of the world;"(5) (as the heart) with fixed and
steadfast gaze, so to speak, yearns and longs for it and says to Him "Thy
kingdom come." For it knows by the witness of its own conscience that when He
shall appear, it will presently share His lot. For no guilty person would dare
either to say or to wish for this, for no one would want to face the tribunal
of the Judge, who knew that at His coming he would forthwith receive not the
prize or reward of his merits but only punishment.
CHAPTER XX.
Of the clause "Thy will be done."
THE third petition is that of sons: "Thy will be done as in heaven so on
earth." There can now be no grander prayer than to wish that earthly things
may be made equal with things heavenly: for what else is it to say "Thy will
be done as in heaven so on earth," than to ask that men may be like angels and
that as God's will is ever fulfilled by them in heaven, so also all those who
are on earth may do not their own but His will? This too no one could say from
the heart but only one who believed that God disposes for our good all things
which are seen, whether fortunate or unfortunate, and that He is more careful
and provident for our good and salvation than we ourselves are for ourselves.
Or at any rate it may be taken in this way: The will of God is the salvation
of all men, according to these words of the blessed Paul: "Who willeth all men
to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth."(6) Of which will also
the prophet Isaiah says in the Person of God the Father: "And all Thy will
shall be done."(7) When we say then "Thy will be done as in heaven so on
earth," we pray in other words for this; viz., that as those who are in
heaven, so also may all those who dwell on earth be saved, O Father, by the
knowledge of Thee.
CHAPTER XXI.
Of our supersubstantial or daily bread.
NEXT: "Give us this day our bread which is epiousion,"
i.e., "supersubstantial," which another Evangelist calls "daily."(8) The
former indicates the quality of its nobility and substance, in virtue of which
it is above all
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substances and the loftiness of its grandeur and holiness exceeds all
creatures, while the latter intimates the purpose of its use and value. For
where it says "daily" it shows that without it we cannot live a spiritual life
for a single day. Where it says "today" it shows that it must be received
daily and that yesterday's supply of it is not enough, but at it must be given
to us today also in like manner. And our daily need of it suggests to us that
we ought at all times to offer up this prayer, because there is no day on
which we have no need to strengthen the heart of our inner man, by eating and
receiving it, although the expression used, "today" may be taken to apply to
his present life, i.e., while we are living in this world supply us with this
bread. For we know that it will be given to those who deserve it by Thee
hereafter, but we ask that Thou wouldest grant it to us today, because unless
it has been vouchsafed to a man to receive it in this life he will never be
partaker of it in that.
CHAPTER XXII.
Of the clause: "Forgive us our debts, etc."
"AND forgive us our debts as we also forgive our debtors." O unspeakable
mercy of God, which has not only given us a form of prayer and taught us a
system of life acceptable to Him, and by the requirements of the form given,
in which He charged us always to pray, has torn up the roots of both anger and
sorrow, but also gives to those who pray an opportunity and reveals to them a
way by which they may move a merciful and kindly judgment of God to be
pronounced over them and which somehow gives us a power by which we can
moderate the sentence of our Judge, drawing Him to forgive our offences by the
example of our forgiveness: when we say to Him: "Forgive us as we also
forgive." And so without anxiety and in confidence from this prayer a man may
ask for pardon of his own offences, if he has been forgiving towards his own
debtors, and not towards those of his Lord. For some of us, which is very bad,
are inclined to show ourselves calm and most merciful in regard to those
things which are done to God's detriment, however great the crimes may be, but
to be found most hard and inexorable exactors of debts to ourselves even in
the case of the most trifling wrongs. Whoever then does not from his heart
forgive his brother who has offended him, by this prayer calls down upon
himself not forgiveness but [condemnation, and by his own profession asks that
he himself may be judged more severely, saying: Forgive me as I also have
forgiven. And if he is repaid according to his own request, what else will
follow but that he will be punished after his own example with implacable
wrath and a sentence that cannot be remitted? And so if we want to be judged
mercifully, we ought also to be merciful towards those who have sinned against
us. For only so much will be remitted to us, as we have remitted to those who
have injured us however spitefully. And some dreading this, when this prayer
is chanted by all the people in church, silently omit this clause, for fear
lest they may seem by their own utterance to bind themselves rather than to
excuse themselves, as they do not understand that it is in vain that they try
to offer these quibbles to the Judge of all men, who has willed to show us
beforehand how He will judge His suppliants. For as He does not wish to be
found harsh and inexorable towards them, He has marked out the manner of His
judgment, that just as we desire to be judged by Him, so we should also judge
our brethren, if they have wronged us in anything, for "he shall have judgment
without mercy who hath shown no mercy."(1)
CHAPTER XXIII.
Of the clause: "Lead us not into temptation."
NEXT there follows: "And lead us not into temptation," on which there
arises no unimportant question, for if we pray that we may not be suffered to
be tempted, how then will our power of endurance be proved, according to this
text: "Every one who is not tempted is not proved;"(2) and again: "Blessed is
the man that endureth temptation?"(3) The clause then, "Lead us not into
temptation," does not mean this; viz., do not permit us ever to be tempted,
but do not permit us when we fall into temptation to be overcome. For Job was
tempted, but was not led into temptation. For he did not ascribe folly to God
nor blasphemy, nor with impious mouth did he yield to that wish of the tempter
toward which he was drawn. Abraham was tempted, Joseph was tempted, but
neither of them was led into temptation for neither of them yielded his
consent to the tempter. Next there follows: "But deliver us from evil," i.e.,
do not suffer us to be tempted by the devil above that we
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are able, but "make with the temptation a way also of escape that we may be
able to bear it."(1)
CHAPTER XXIV.
How we ought not to ask for other things, except only those which are
contained in the limits of the Lord's Prayer.
YOU see then what is the method and form of prayer proposed to us by the
Judge Himself, who is to be prayed to by it, a form in which there is
contained no petition for riches, no thought of honours, no request for power
and might, no mention of bodily health and of temporal life. For He who is the
Author of Eternity would have men ask of Him nothing uncertain, nothing
paltry, and nothing temporal. And so a man will offer the greatest insult to
His Majesty and Bounty, if he leaves on one side these eternal petitions and
chooses rather to ask of Him something transitory and uncertain; and will also
incur the indignation rather than the propitiation of the Judge by the
pettiness of his prayer.
CHAPTER XXV.
Of the character of the sublimer prayer.
THIS prayer then though it seems to contain all the fulness of perfection,
as being what was originated and appointed by the Lord's own authority, yet
lifts those to whom it belongs to that still higher condition of which we
spoke above, and carries them on by a loftier stage to that ardent prayer
which is known and tried by but very few, and which to speak more truly is
ineffable; which transcends all human thoughts, and is distinguished, I will
not say by any sound of the voice, but by no movement of the tongue, or
utterance of words, but which the mind enlightened by the infusion of that
heavenly light describes in no human and confined language, but pours forth
richly as from copious fountain in an accumulation of thoughts, and ineffably
utters to God, expressing in the shortest possible space of time such great
things that the mind when it returns to its usual condition cannot easily
utter or relate. And this condition our Lord also similarly prefigured by the
form of those supplications which, when he retired alone in the mountain He is
said to have poured forth in silence, and when being in an agony of prayer He
shed forth even drops of blood, as an example of a purpose which it is hard to
imitate.
CHAPTER XXVI.
Of the different causes of conviction.
But who is able, with whatever experience he may be endowed, to give a
sufficient account of the varieties and reasons and grounds of conviction, by
which the mind is inflamed and set on fire and incited to pure and most
fervent prayers? And of these we will now by way of specimen set forth a few,
as far as we can by God's enlightenment recollect them. For sometimes a verse
of any one of the Psalms gives us an occasion of ardent prayer while we are
singing. Sometimes the harmonious modulation of a brother's voice stirs up the
minds of dullards to intense supplication. We know also that the enunciation
and the reverence of the chanter adds greatly to the fervour of those who
stand by. Moreover the exhortation of a perfect man, and a spiritual
conference has often raised the affections of those present to the richest
prayer. We know too that by the death of a brother or some one dear to us, we
are no less carried away to full conviction. The recollection also of our
coldness and carelessness has sometimes aroused in us a healthful fervour of
spirit. And in this way no one can doubt that numberless opportunities are not
wanting, by which through God's grace the coldness and sleepiness of our minds
can be shaken off.
CHAPTER XXVII.
Of the different sorts of conviction.
BUT how and in what way those very convictions are produced from the
inmost recesses of the soul it is no less difficult to trace out. For often
through some inexpressible delight and keenness of spirit the fruit of a most
salutary conviction arises so that it actually breaks forth into shouts owing
to the greatness of its incontrollable joy; and the delight of the heart and
greatness of exultation makes itself heard even in the cell of a neighbour.
But sometimes the mind hides itself in complete silence within the secrets of
a profound quiet, so that the amazement of a sudden illumination chokes all
sounds of words and the overawed spirit either keeps all its feelings to
itself or loses(2) them and pours forth its desires
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to God with groanings that cannot be uttered. But sometimes it is filled with
such overwhelming conviction and grief that it cannot express it except by
floods of tears.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A question about the fact that a plentiful supply of tears is not in our own
power.
GERMANUS: My own poor self indeed is not altogether ignorant of this
feeling of conviction. For often when tears arise at the recollection of my
faults, I have been by the Lord's visitation so refreshed by this ineffable
joy which you describe that the greatness of the joy has assured me that I
ought not to despair of their forgiveness. Than which state of mind I think
there is nothing more sublime if only it could be recalled at our own will.
For sometimes when I am desirous to stir myself up with all my power to the
same conviction and tears, and place before my eyes all my faults and sins, I
am unable to bring back that copiousness of tears, and so my eyes are dry and
hard like some hardest flint, so that not a single tear trickles from them.
And so in proportion as I congratulate myself on that copiousness of tears,
just so do I mourn that I cannot bring it back again whenever I wish.
CHAPTER XXIX.
The answer on the varieties of conviction which spring from
tears.
ISAAC: Not every kind of shedding of tears is produced by one feeling or
one virtue. For in one way does that weeping originate which is caused by the
pricks of our sins smiting our heart, of which we read: "I have laboured in my
groanings, every night I will wash my bed; I will water my couch with my
tears."(1) And again: "Let tears run down like a torrent day and night: give
thyself no rest, and let not the apple of thine eye cease."(2) In another,
that which arises from the contemplation of eternal good things and the desire
of that future glory, owing to which even richer well-springs of tears burst
forth from uncontrollable delights and boundless exultation, while our soul is
athirst for the mighty Living God, saying, "When shall I come and appear
before the presence of God? My tears have been my meat day and night,"(3)
declaring with daily crying and lamentation: "Woe is me that my sojourning is
prolonged;" and: "Too long hath my soul been a sojourner."(4) In another way
do the tears flow forth, which without any conscience of deadly sin, yet still
proceed from the fear of hell and the recollection of It hat terrible
judgment, with the terror of which the prophet was smitten and prayed to God,
saying: "Enter not into judgment with Thy servant, for in Thy sight shall no
man living be justified."(5) There is too another kind of tears, which are
caused not by knowledge of one's self but by the hardness and sins of others;
whereby Samuel is described as having wept for Saul, and both the Lord in the
gospel and Jeremiah in former days for the city of Jerusalem, the latter thus
saying: "Oh, that my head were water and mine eyes a fountain of tears! And I
will weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people."(6) Or
also such as were those tears of which we hear m the hundred and first Psalm:
"For I have eaten ashes for my bread, and mingled my cup with weeping."(7) And
these were certainty not caused by the same feeling as those which arise in
the sixth Psalm from the person of the penitent, but were due to the anxieties
of this life and its distresses and losses, by which the righteous who are
living in this world are oppressed. And this is clearly shown not only by the
words of the Psalm itself, but also by its title, which runs as follows in the
character of that poor person of whom it is said in the gospel that "blessed
are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven:"(8) "A prayer of
the poor when he was in distress and poured forth his prayer to God."(9)
CHAPTER XXX.
How tears ought not to be squeezed out, when they do not
flow spontaneously.
FROM these tears those are vastly different which are squeezed out from
dry eyes while the heart is hard: and although we cannot believe that these
are altogether fruitless (for the attempt to shed them is made with a good
intention, especially by those who have not yet been able to attain to perfect
knowledge or to be thoroughly cleansed from the stains of past or present
sins), yet certainly the flow of tears ought not to be thus forced out by
those who have already advanced to the love of virtue, nor should the weeping
of the outward man be with great labour attempted, as even if it is produced
it will never attain the rich copiousness of spontaneous tears. For it will
rather
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cast down the soul of the suppliant by his endeavours, and humiliate him, and
plunge him in human affairs and draw him away from the celestial heights,
wherein the awed mind of one who prays should be steadfastly fixed, and will
force it to relax its hold on its prayers and grow sick from barren and forced
tears.
CHAPTER XXXI.
The opinion of Abbot Antony on the condition of prayer.
AND that you may see the character of true prayer I will give you not my
own opinion but that of the blessed Antony: whom we have known sometimes to
have been so persistent in prayer that often as he was praying in a transport
of mind, when the sunrise began to appear, we have heard him in the fervour of
his spirit declaiming: Why do you hinder me, 0 sun, who art arising for this
very purpose; viz., to withdraw me from the brightness of this true light? And
his also is this heavenly and more than human utterance on the end of prayer:
That is not, said he, a perfect prayer, wherein a monk understands himself and
the words which he prays. And if we too, as far as our slender ability allows,
may venture to add anything to this splendid utterance, we will bring forward
the marks of prayer which are heard from the Lord, as far as we have tried
them.
CHAPTER XXXII.
Of the proof of prayer being heard.
WHEN, while we are praying, no hesitation intervenes and breaks down the.
confidence of our petition by a sort of despair, but we feel that by pouring
forth our prayer we have obtained what we are asking for, we have no doubt
that our prayers have effectually reached God. For so far will one be heard
and obtain an answer, as he believes that he is regarded by God, and that God
can grant it. For this saying of our Lord cannot be retracted: "Whatsoever ye
ask when ye pray, believe that you shall receive, and they shall come to
you."(1)
CHAPTER XXXIII.
An objection that the confidence of being thus heard as described belongs only
to saints.
GERMANUS: We certainly believe that this confidence of being heard flows
from purity of conscience, but for us, whose heart is still smitten by the
pricks of sins, how can we have it, as we have no merits to plead for us,
whereby we might confidently presume that our prayers would be heard?
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Answer on the different reasons for prayer being heard.
ISAAC: That there are different reasons for prayer being heard in
accordance with the varied and changing condition of souls the words of the
gospels and of the prophets teach us. For you have the fruits of an answer
pointed out by our Lord's words in the case of the agreement of two persons;
as it is said: "If two of you shall agree upon earth touching anything for
which they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in
heaven."(2) You have another in the fulness of faith, which is compared to a
grain of mustard-seed. "For," He says, "if you have faith as a grain of
mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain: Be thou removed, and it shall
be removed; and nothing shall be impossible to you."(3) You have it in
continuance in prayer, which the Lord s words call, by reason of unwearied
perseverance in petitioning, importunity: "For, verily, I say unto you that if
not because of his friendship, yet because of his importunity he will rise and
give him as much as he needs."(4) You have it in the fruits of almsgiving:
"Shut up alms in the heart of the poor and it shall pray for thee in the time
of tribulation."(5) You have it in the purifying of life and in works of
mercy, as it is said: "Loose the bands of wickedness, undo the bundles that
oppress;" and after a few words in which the barrenness of an unfruitful fast
is rebuked, "then," he says, "thou shall call and the Lord shall hear thee;
thou shalt cry, and He shall say, Here am I."(6) Sometimes also excess of
trouble causes it to be heard, as it is said: "When I was in trouble I called
unto the Lord, and He heard me;"(7) and again: "Afflict not the stranger for
if he crieth unto Me, I will hear him, for I am merciful." (8) You see then in
how many ways the gift of an answer may be obtained, so that no one need be
crushed by the despair of his conscience for securing those things which are
salutary and eternal. For if in contemplating our wretchedness I admit that we
are utterly destitute of all those virtues which we mentioned above, and that
we have neither that laudable agreement of two persons, nor that faith which
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is compared to a grain of mustard seed, nor those works of piety which the
prophet describes, surely we cannot be without that importunity which He
supplies to all who desire it, owing to which alone the Lord promises that He
will give whatever He has been prayed to give. And therefore we ought without
unbelieving hesitation to persevere, and not to have the least doubt that by
continuing in them we shall obtain all those things which we have asked
according to the mind of God. For the Lord, in His desire to grant what is
heavenly and eternal, urges us to constrain Him as it were by our importunity,
as He not only does not despise or reject the importunate, but actually
welcomes and praises them, and most graciously promises to grant whatever they
have perseveringly hoped for; saying, "Ask and ye shall receive: seek and ye
shall find: knock and it shall be opened unto you. For every one that asketh
receiveth, and he that seeketh findeth, and to him that knocketh it shall be
opened;"(1) and again: "All things whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer believing
ye shall receive, and nothing shall be impossible to you."(2) And therefore
even if all the grounds for being heard which we have mentioned are altogether
wanting, at any rate the earnestness of importunity may animate us, as this is
placed in the power of any one who wills without the difficulties of any
merits or labours. But let not any suppliant doubt that he certainly will not
be heard, so long as he doubts whether he is heard. But that this also shall
be sought from the Lord unweariedly, we are taught by the example of the
blessed Daniel, as, though he was heard from the first day on which he began
to pray, he only obtained the result of his petition after one and twenty
days.(3) Wherefore we also ought not to grow slack in the earnestness of the
prayers we have begun, if we fancy that the answer comes but slowly, for fear
lest perhaps the gift of the answer be in God's providence delayed, or the
angel, who was to bring the Divine blessing to us, may when he comes forth
from the Presence of the Almighty be hindered by the resistance of the devil,
as it is certain that he cannot transmit and bring to us the desired boon, if
he finds that we slack off from the earnestness of the petition made. And this
would certainly have happened to the above mentioned prophet unless he had
with incomparable steadfastness prolonged and persevered in his prayers until
the twenty-first day. Let us then not be at all cast down by despair from the
confidence of this faith of ours, even when we fancy that we are far from
having obtained what we prayed for, and let us not have any doubts about the
Lord's promise where He says: "All things, whatsoever ye shall ask m prayer
believing, ye shall receive."(4) For it is well for us to consider this saying
of the blessed Evangelist John, by which the ambiguity of this question is
clearly solved: "This is," he says, "the confidence which we have in Him, that
whatsoever we ask according to His will, He heareth us."(5) He bids us then
have a full and undoubting confidence of the answer only in those things which
are not for our own advantage or for temporal comforts, but are in conformity
to the Lord's will. And we are also taught to put this into our prayers by the
Lord's Prayer, where we say "Thy will be done,"--Thine not ours. For if we
also remember these words of the Apostle that "we know not what to pray for as
we ought"(6) we shall see that we sometimes ask for things opposed to our
salvation and that we are most providentially refused our requests by Him who
sees what is good for us with greater right and truth than we can. And it is
clear that this also happened to the teacher of the Gentiles when he prayed
that the messenger of Satan who had been for his good allowed by the Lord's
will to buffet him, might be removed, saying: "For which I besought the Lord
thrice that he might depart from me. And He said unto me, My grace is
sufficient for thee, for strength is made perfect in weakness."(7) And this
feeling even our Lord expressed when He prayed in the character(8) of man
which He had taken, that He might give us a form of prayer as other things
also by His example; saying thus: "Father, if it be possible, let this cup
pass from me: nevertheless not as I will but as Thou wilt,"(9) though
certainly His will was not discordant with His Father's will, "For He had come
to save what was lost and to give His life a ransom for many;"(10) as He
Himself says: "No man taketh my life from Me, but I lay it down of Myself. I
have power to lay it down and I have power to take it again."(11) In which
character there is in the thirty-ninth Psalm the following sung by the blessed
David, of the Unity of will which He ever maintained with the Father: "To do
Thy will: O My God, I am willing."(12) For even if we read of the Father: "For
God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten
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Son,"(1) we find none the less of the Son: "Who gave Himself for our sins."(2)
And as it is said of the One: "Who spared not His own Son, but gave Him for
all of us,"(3) so it is written of the other: "He was offered because He
Himself willed it."(4) And it is shown that the will of the Father and of the
Son is in all things one, so that even in the actual mystery of the Lord's
resurrection we are taught that there was no discord of operation. For just as
the blessed Apostle declares that the Father brought about the resurrection of
His body, saying: "And God the Father, who raised Him from the dead,"(5) so
also the Son testifies that He Himself will raise again the Temple of His
body, saying: "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up
again."(6) And therefore we being instructed by all these examples of our Lord
which have been enumerated ought to end our supplications also with the same
prayer, and always to subjoin this clause to all our petitions: "Nevertheless
not as I will, but as Thou wilt."(7) But it is clear enough that one who does
not(8) pray with attention of mind cannot observe that threefold reverence(9)
which is usually practised in the assemblies of the brethren at the close of
service.
CHAPTER XXXV.
Of prayer to be offered within the chamber and with the door
shut.
BEFORE all things however we ought most carefully to observe the Evangelic
precept, which tells us to enter into our chamber and shut the door and pray
to our Father, which may be fulfilled by us as follows: We pray within our
chamber, when removing our hearts inwardly from the din of all thoughts and
anxieties, we disclose our prayers in secret and in closest intercourse to the
Lord. We pray with closed doors when with closed lips and complete silence we
pray to the searcher not of words but of hearts. We pray in secret when from
the heart and fervent mind we disclose our petitions to God alone, so that no
hostile powers are even able to discover the character of our petition.
Wherefore we should pray in complete silence, not only to avoid distracting
the brethren standing near by our whispers or louder utterances, and
disturbing the thoughts of those who are praying, but also that the purport of
our petition may be concealed from our enemies who are especially on the watch
against us while we are praying. For so we shall fulfil this injunction. "Keep
the doors of thy mouth from her who sleepeth in thy bosom."(10)
CHAPTER XXXVI.
Of the value of short and silent prayer.
WHEREFORE we ought to pray often but briefly, lest if we are long about it
our crafty foe may succeed in implanting something in our heart. For that is
the true sacrifice, as "the sacrifice of God is a broken spirit." This is the
salutary offering, these are pure drink offerings, that is the "sacrifice of
righteousness," the "sacrifice of praise," these are true and fat victims,
"holocausts full of marrow," which are offered by contrite and humble hearts,
and which those who practise this control and fervour of spirit, of which we
have spoken, with effectual power can sing: "Let my prayer be set forth in Thy
sight as the incense: let the lifting up of my hands be an evening
sacrifice."(11) But the approach of the right hour and of night warns us that
we ought with fitting devotion to do this very thing, of which, as our slender
ability allowed, we seem to have propounded a great deal, and to have
prolonged our conference considerably, though we believe that we have
discoursed very little when the magnificence and difficulty of the subject are
taken into account.
With these words of the holy Isaac we were dazzled rather than satisfied,
and after evening service had been held, rested our limbs for a short time,
and intending at the first dawn again to return under promise of a fuller
discussion departed, rejoicing over the acquisition of these precepts as well
as over the assurance of his promises. Since we felt that
though the excellence of prayer had been shown to us, still we had not yet
understood from his discourse its nature, and the power by which continuance
in it might be gained and kept.
CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.
X.
THE SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT ISAAC.
ON PRAYER.
CHAPTER I.
Introduction.
AMONG the sublime customs of the anchorites which by God's help have been
set forth although in plain and unadorned style, the course of our narration
compels us to insert and find a place for something, which may seem so to
speak to cause a blemish on a fair body: although I have no doubt that by it
no small instruction on the image of Almighty God of which we read in Genesis
will be conferred on some of the simpler sort, especially when the grounds are
considered of a doctrine so important that men cannot be ignorant of it
without terrible blasphemy and serious harm to the Catholic faith.
CHAPTER II.
Of the custom which is kept up in the Province of Egypt for
signifying the time of Easter.
IN the country of Egypt this custom is by ancient tradition observed
that--when Epiphany is past, which the priests of that province regard as the
time, both of our Lord's baptism and also of His birth in the flesh, and so
celebrate the commemoration of either mystery not separately as in the Western
provinces but on the single festival of this day,(1)--letters are sent from
the Bishop of Alexandria through all the Churches of Egypt, by which the
beginning of Lent, and the day of Easter are pointed out not only in all the
cities but also in all the monasteries.(2) In accordance then with this
custom, a very few days after the previous conference had been held with Abbot
Isaac, there arrived the festal letters of Theophilus(3) the Bishop of the
aforesaid city, in which together with the announcement of Easter he
considered as well the foolish heresy of the Anthropomorphites(4) at great
length, and abundantly refuted it. And this was received by almost all the
body of monks residing in the whole province of Egypt with such bitterness
owing to their simplicity and error, that the greater part of the Elders
decreed that on the contrary the aforesaid Bishop ought to be abhorred by the
whole body of the brethren as tainted with heresy of the worst kind, because
he seemed to impugn the teaching of holy Scripture by the denial that Almighty
God was formed in the fashion of a human
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figure, though Scripture teaches with perfect clearness that Adam was created
in His image. Lastly this letter was rejected also by those who were living in
the desert of Scete and who excelled all who were in the monasteries of Egypt,
in perfection and in knowledge, so that except Abbot Paphnutius the presbyter
of our congregation, not one of the other presbyters, who presided over the
other three churches in the same desert, would suffer it to be even read or
repeated at all in their meetings.
CHAPTER III.
Of Abbot Sarapion and the heresy of the Anthropomorphites into which he fell
in the error of simplicity.
AMONG those then who were caught by this mistaken notion was one named
Sarapion, a man of long-standing strictness of life, and one who was
altogether perfect in actual discipline, whose ignorance with regard to the
view of the doctrine first mentioned was so far a stumbling block to all who
held the true faith, as he himself outstripped almost all the monks both in
the merits of his life and in the length of time (he had been there). And when
this man could not be brought back to the way of the right faith by many
exhortations of the holy presbyter Paphnutius, because this view seemed to him
a novelty, and one that was not ever known to or handed down by his
predecessors, it chanced that a certain deacon, a man of very great learning,
named Photinus, arrived from the region of Cappadocia with the desire of
visiting the brethren living in the same desert: whom the blessed Paphnutius
received with the warmest welcome, and in order to confirm the faith which had
been stated in the letters of the aforesaid Bishop, placed him in the midst
and asked him before all the brethren how the Catholic Churches throughout the
East interpreted the passage in Genesis where it says "Let us make man after
our image and likeness."(1) And when he explained that the image and likeness
of God was taken by all the leaders of the churches not according to the base
sound of the letters, but spiritually, and supported this very fully and by
many passages of Scripture, and showed that nothing of this sort could happen
to that infinite and incomprehensible and invisible glory, so that it could be
comprised in a human form and likeness, since its nature is incorporeal and
uncompounded and simple, and what can neither be apprehended by the eyes nor
conceived by the mind, at length the old man was shaken by the numerous and
very weighty assertions of this most learned man, and was drawn to the faith
of the Catholic tradition. And when both Abbot Paphnutius and all of us were
filled with intense delight at his adhesion, for this reason; viz., that the
Lord had not permitted a man of such age and crowned with such virtues, and
one who erred only from ignorance and rustic simplicity, to wander from the
path of the right faith up to the very last, and when we arose to give thanks,
and were all together offering up our prayers to the Lord, the old man was so
bewildered in mind during his prayer because he felt that the Anthropomorphic
image of the Godhead which he used to set before himself in prayer, was
banished from his heart, that on a sudden he burst into a flood of bitter
tears and continual sobs, and cast himself down on the ground and exclaimed
with strong groanings: "Alas! wretched man that I am! they have taken away my
God from me, and I have now none to lay hold of; and whom to worship and
address I know not." By which scene we were terribly disturbed, and moreover
with the effect of the former Conference still remaining in our hearts, we
returned to Abbot Isaac, whom when we saw close at hand, we addressed with
these words.
CHAPTER IV.
Of our return to Abbot Isaac and question concerning the error into which the
aforesaid old man had fallen.
ALTHOUGH even besides the fresh matter which has lately arisen, our
delight in the former conference which was held on the character of prayer
would summon us to postpone everything else and return to your holiness, yet
this grievous error of Abbot Sarapion, conceived, as we fancy, by the craft of
most vile demons, adds somewhat to this desire of ours. For it is no small
despair by which we are cast down when we consider that through the fault of
this ignorance he has not only utterly lost all those labours which he has
performed in so praiseworthy a manner for fifty years in this desert, but has
also incurred the risk of eternal death. And so we want first to know why and
wherefore so grievous an error has crept into him. And next we should like to
be taught how we can arrive at that condition in prayer, of which you
discoursed some time back not only fully but splendidly. For that admirable
Con-
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ference has had this effect upon us, that it has only dazzled our minds and
has not shown us how to perform or secure it.
CHAPTER V.
The answer on the heresy described above.
ISAAC: We need not be surprised that a really simple man who had never
received any instruction on the substance and nature of the Godhead could
still be entangled and deceived by an error of simplicity and the habit of a
longstanding mistake, and (to speak more truly) continue in the original error
which is brought about, not as you suppose by a new illusion of the demons,
but by the ignorance of the ancient heathen world, while in accordance with
the custom of that erroneous notion, by which they used to worship devils
formed in the figure of men, they even now think that the incomprehensible and
ineffable glory of the true Deity should be worshipped under the limitations
of some figure, as they believe that they can grasp and hold nothing if they
have not some image set before them, which they can continually address while
they are at their devotions, and which they can carry about in their mind and
have always fixed before their eyes. And against this mistake of theirs this
text may be used: "And they changed the glory of the incorruptible God into
the likeness of the image of corruptible man."(1) Jeremiah also says: "My
people have changed their glory for an idol.(2) Which error although by this
its origin, of which we have spoken, it is engrained in the notions of some,
yet none the less is it contracted in the hearts also of those who have never
been stained with the superstition of the heathen world, under the colour of
this passage where it is said "Let us make man after our image and our
likeness,"(3) ignorance and simplicity being its authors, so that actually
there has arisen owing to this hateful interpretation a heresy called that of
the Anthropomorphites, which maintains with obstinate perverseness that the
infinite and simple substance of the Godhead is fashioned in our lineaments
and human configuration. Which however any one who has been taught the
Catholic doctrine will abhor as heathenish blasphemy, and so will arrive at
that perfectly pure condition in prayer which will not only not connect with
its prayers any figure of the Godhead or bodily lineaments (which it is a sin
even to speak of), but will not even allow in itself even the memory of a
name, or the appearance of an action, or an outline of any character.
CHAPTER VI.
Of the reasons why Jesus Christ appears to each one of us either in His
humility or in His glorified condition.
FOR according to the measure of its purity, as I said in the former
Conference, each mind is both raised and moulded in its prayers if it forsakes
the consideration of earthly and material things so far as the condition of
its purity may carry it forward, and enable it with the inner eyes of the soul
to see Jesus either still in His humility and in the flesh, or glorified and
coming in the glory of His Majesty: for those cannot see Jesus coming in His
Kingdom who are still kept back in a sort of state of Jewish weakness, and
cannot say with the Apostle: "And if we have known Christ after the flesh, yet
now we know Him so no more;"(4) but only those can look with purest eyes on
His Godhead, who rise with Him from low and earthly works and thoughts and go
apart in the lofty mountain of solitude which is free from the disturbance of
all earthly thoughts and troubles, and secure from the interference of all
sins, and being exalted by pure faith and the heights of virtue reveals the
glory of His Face and the image of His splendour to those who are able to look
on Him with pure eyes of the soul. But Jesus is seen as well by those who live
in towns and villages and hamlets, i.e., who are occupied in practical affairs
and works, but not with the same brightness with which He appeared to those
who can go up with Him into the aforesaid mount of virtues, i.e., Peter,
James, and John. For so in solitude He appeared to Moses and spoke with Elias.
And as our Lord wished to establish this and to leave us examples of perfect
purity, although He Himself, the very fount of inviolable sanctity, had no
need of external help and the assistance of solitude in order to secure it
(for the fulness of purity could not be soiled by any stain from crowds, nor
could He be contaminated by intercourse with men, who cleanses and sanctifies
all things that are polluted) yet still He retired into the mountain alone to
pray, thus teaching us by the example of His retirement that if we too wish to
approach God with a pure and spotless affection of heart, we should also
retire from all the disturbance and confusion of crowds, so that while still
living in the body we I may manage in some degree to adapt ourselves to some
likeness of that bliss which is promised hereafter to the saints, and that
"God may be" to us "all in all."(5)
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CHAPTER VII.
What constitutes our end and perfect bliss.
FOR then will be perfectly fulfilled in our case that prayer of our
Saviour in which He prayed for His disciples to the Father saying "that the
love wherewith Thou lovedst Me may be in them and they in us;" and again:
"that they all may be one as Thou, Father, in Me and I in Thee, that they also
may be one in us,"(1) when that perfect love of God, wherewith" He first loved
us"(2) has passed into the feelings of our heart as well, by the fulfilment of
this prayer of the Lord which we believe cannot possibly be ineffectual. And
this will come to pass when God shall be all our love, and every desire and
wish and effort, every thought of ours, and all our life and words and breath,
and that unity which already exists between the Father and the Son, and the
Son and the Father, has been shed abroad in our hearts and minds, so that as
He loves us with a pure and unfeigned and indissoluble love, so we also may be
joined to Him by a lasting and inseparable affection, since we are so united
to Him that whatever we breathe or think, or speak is God, since, as I say, we
attain to that end of which we spoke before, which the same Lord in His prayer
hopes may be fulfilled in us: "that they all may be one as we are one, I in
them and Thou in Me, that they also may be made perfect in one;" and again:
"Father, those whom Thou hast given Me, I will that where I am, they may also
be with Me."(3) This then ought to be the destination of the solitary, this
should be all his aim that it may be vouchsafed to him to possess even in the
body an image of future bliss, and that he may begin in this world to have a
foretaste of a sort of earnest of that celestial life and glory. This, I say,
is the end of all perfection, that the mind purged from all carnal desires may
daily be lifted towards spiritual things, until the whole life and all the
thoughts of the heart become one continuous prayer.
CHAPTER VIII.
A question on the training in perfection by which we can arrive at perpetual
recollection of God.
GERMANUS: The extent of our bewilderment at our wondering awe at the
former Conference, because of which we came back again, increases still more.
For in proportion as by the incitements of this teaching we are fired with the
desire of perfect bliss, so do we fall back into greater despair, as we know
not how to seek or obtain training for such lofty heights. Wherefore we
entreat that you will patiently allow us (for it must perhaps be set forth and
unfolded with a good deal of talk) to explain what while sitting in the cell
we had begun to revolve in a lengthy meditation, although we know that your
holiness is not at all troubled by the infirmities of the weak, which even for
this reason should be openly set forth, that what is out of place in them may
receive correction. Our notion then is that the perfection of any art or
system of training must begin with some simple rudiments, and grow accustomed
first to somewhat easy and tender beginnings, so that being nourished and
trained little by little by a sort of reasonable milk, it may grow up and so
by degrees and step by step mount up from the lowest depths to the heights:
and when by these means it has entered on the plainer principles and so to
speak passed the gates of the entrance of the profession, it will consequently
arrive without difficulty at the inmost shrine and lofty heights of
perfection. For how could any boy manage to pronounce the simplest union of
syllables unless he had first carefully learnt the letters of the alphabet? Or
how can any one learn to read quickly, who is still unfit to connect together
short and simple sentences? But by what means will one who is ill instructed
in the science of grammar attain eloquence in rhetoric or the knowledge of
philosophy? Wherefore for this highest learning also, by which we are taught
even to cleave to God, I have no doubt that there are some foundations of the
system, which must first be firmly laid and afterwards the towering heights of
perfection may be placed and raised upon them. And we have a slight idea that
these are its first principles; viz., that we should first learn by what
meditations God may be grasped and contemplated, and next that we should
manage to keep a very firm hold of this topic whatever it is which we do not
doubt is the height of all perfection. And therefore we want you to show us
some material for this recollection, by which we may conceive and ever keep
the idea of God in the mind, So that by always keeping it before our eyes,
when we find that we have dropped away from Him, we may at once be able to
recover ourselves and return thither and may succeed in laying hold of it
again without any delay from wandering around the subject and searching for
it. For it happens that when we have wandered away from our spiritual
speculations and have come back to ourselves as if waking from
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a deadly sleep, and, being thoroughly roused, look for the subject matter, by
which we may be able to revive that spiritual recollection which has been
destroyed, we are hindered by the delay of the actual search before we find
it, and are once more drawn aside from our endeavour, and before the spiritual
insight is brought about, the purpose of heart which had been conceived, has
disappeared. And this trouble is certain to happen to us for this reason
because we do not keep something special firmly set before our eyes like some
principle to which the wandering thoughts may be recalled after many
digressions and varied excursions; and, if I may use the expression, after
long storms enter a quiet haven. And so it comes to pass that as the mind is
constantly hindered by this want of knowledge and difficulty, and is always
tossed about vaguely, and as if intoxicated, among various matters, and cannot
even retain firm hold for any length of time of anything spiritual which has
occurred to it by chance rather than of set purpose: while, as it is always
receiving one thing after another, it does not notice either their beginning
and origin or even their end.
CHAPTER IX.
The answer on the efficacy of understanding, which is
gained by experience.
ISAAC: Your minute and subtle inquiry affords an indication of purity
being very nearly reached. For no one would be able even to make inquiries on
these matters,I will not say to look within and discriminate,--except one who
had been urged to sound the depths of such questions by careful and effectual
diligence of mind, and watchful anxiety, and one whom the constant aim after a
well controlled life had taught by practical experience to attempt the
entrance to this purity and to knock at its doors. And therefore as I see you,
I will not say, standing before the doors of that true prayer of which we have
been speaking, but touching its inner chambers and inward parts as it were
with the hands of experience, and already laying hold of some pans of it, I do
not think that I shall find any difficulty in introducing you now within what
I may call its hall, for you to roam about its recesses, as the Lord may
direct; nor do I think that you will be hindered from investigating what is to
be shown you by any obstacles or difficulties. For he is next door to
understanding who carefully recognizes what he ought to ask about, nor is he
far from knowledge, who begins to understand how ignorant he is. And therefore
I am not afraid of the charge of betraying secrets, and of levity, if I
divulge what when speaking in my former discourse on the perfection of prayer
I had kept back from discussing, as I think that its force was to be explained
to us who are occupied with this subject and interest even without the aid of
my words, by the grace of God.
CHAPTER X.
Of the method of continual prayer.
WHEREFORE in accordance with that system, which you admirably compared to
teaching children (who can only take in the first lessons on the alphabet and
recognize the shapes of the letters, and trace out their characters with a
steady hand if they have, by means of some copies and shapes carefully
impressed on wax, got accustomed to express their figures, by constantly
looking at them and imitating them daily), we must give you also the form of
this spiritual contemplation, on which you may always fix your gaze with the
utmost steadiness, and both learn to consider it to your profit in unbroken
continuance, and also manage by the practice of it and by meditation to climb
to a still loftier insight. This formula then shall be proposed to you of this
system, which you want, and of prayer, which every monk in his progress
towards continual recollection of God, is accustomed to ponder, ceaselessly
revolving it in his heart, having got rid of all kinds of other thoughts; for
he cannot possibly keep his hold over it unless he has freed himself from all
bodily cares and anxieties. And as this was delivered to us by a few of those
who were left of the oldest fathers, so it is only divulged by us to a very
few and to those who are really keen. And so for keeping up continual
recollection of God this pious formula is to be ever set before you. "O God,
make speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me,"(1) for this verse has
not unreasonably been picked out from the whole of Scripture for this purpose.
For it embraces all the feelings which can be implanted in human nature, and
can be fitly and satisfactorily adapted to every condition, and all assaults.
Since it contains an invocation of God against every danger, it contains
humble and pious confession, it contains the watchfulness of anxiety and
continual fear, it contains the thought of one's own weakness, confidence in
the answer, and the assurance of a present and ever ready help.
406
For one who is constantly calling on his protector, is certain that He is
always at hand. It contains the glow of love and charity, it contains a view
of the plots, and a dread of the enemies, from which one, who sees himself day
and night hemmed in by them, confesses that he cannot be set free without the
aid of his defender. This verse is an impregnable wall for all who are
labouring under the attacks of demons, as well as impenetrable coat of mail
and a strong shield. It does not suffer those who are in a state of moroseness
and anxiety of mind, or depressed by sadness or all kinds of thoughts to
despair of saving remedies, as it shows that He, who is invoked, is ever
looking on at our struggles and is not far from His suppliants. It warns us
whose lot is spiritual success and delight of heart that we ought not to be at
all elated or puffed up by our happy condition, which it assures us cannot
last without God as our protector, while it implores Him not only always but
even speedily to help us. This verse, I say, will be found helpful and useful
to every one of us in whatever condition we may be. For one who always and in
all matters wants to be helped, shows that he needs the assistance of God not
only in sorrowful or hard matters but also equally in prosperous and happy
ones, that he may be delivered from the one and also made to continue in the
other, as he knows that in both of them human weakness is unable to endure
without His assistance. I am affected by the passion of gluttony. I ask for
food of which the desert knows nothing, and in the squalid desert there are
wafted to me odours of royal dainties and I find that even against my will I
am drawn to long for them. I must at once say: "O God, make speed to save me:
O Lord, make haste to help me." I am incited to anticipate the hour fixed for
supper, or I am trying with great sorrow of heart to keep to the limits of the
right and regular meagre fare. I must cry out with groans: "O God, make speed
to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me." Weakness of the stomach hinders me
when wanting severer fasts, on account of the assaults of the flesh, or
dryness of the belly and constipation frightens me. In order that effect may
be given to my wishes, or else that the fire of carnal lust may be quenched
without the remedy of a stricter fast, I must pray: "O God, make speed to save
me: O Lord, make haste to help me." When I come to supper, at the bidding of
the proper hour I loathe taking food and am prevented from eating anything to
satisfy the requirements of nature: I must cry with a sigh: "O God, make speed
to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me." When I want for the sake of
steadfastness of heart to apply myself to reading a headache interferes and
stops me, and at the third hour sleep glues my head to the sacred page, and I
am forced either to overstep or to anticipate the time assigned to rest; and
finally an overpowering desire to sleep forces me to cut short the canonical
rule for service in the Psalms: in the same way I must cry out: "O God, make
speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me." Sleep is withdrawn from my
eyes, and for many nights I find myself wearied out with sleeplessness caused
by the devil, and all repose and rest by night is kept away from my eyelids; I
must sigh and pray: "O God, make speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to help
me. While I am still in the midst of a struggle with sin suddenly an
irritation of the flesh affects me and tries by a pleasant sensation to draw
me to consent while in my sleep. In order that a raging fire from without may
not burn up the fragrant blossoms of chastity, I must cry out: "O God, make
speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me." I feel that the incentive to
lust is removed, and that the heat of passion has died away in my members: In
order that this good condition acquired, or rather that this grace of God may
continue still longer or forever with me, I must earnestly say: "O God, make
speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me." I am disturbed by the pangs
of anger, covetousness, gloominess, and driven to disturb the peaceful state
in which I was, and which was dear to me: In order that I may not be carried
away by raging passion into the bitterness of gall, I must cry out with deep
groans: "O God, make speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me." I am
tried by being puffed up by accidie, vainglory, and pride, and my mind with
subtle thoughts flatters itself somewhat on account of the coldness and
carelessness of others: In order that this dangerous suggestion of the enemy
may not get the mastery over me, I must pray with all contrition of heart: "O
God, make speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me." I have gained the
grace of humility and simplicity, and by continually mortifying my spirit have
got rid of the swellings of pride: In order that the "foot of pride" may not
again "come against me," and "the hand of the sinner disturb me,"(1) and that
I may not be more seriously damaged by elation at my success, I must cry With
all my might, "O God, make speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me." I
am on fire with innumerable and various wanderings of soul and shiftiness of
heart, and cannot collect my scattered thoughts, nor can I even pour forth my
prayer without interruption and images
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of vain figures, and the recollection of conversations and actions, and I feel
myself tied down by such dryness and barrenness that I feel I cannot give
birth to any offspring in the shape of spiritual ideas: In order that it may
be vouchsafed to me to be set free from this wretched state of mind, from
which I cannot extricate myself by any number of sighs and groans, I must full
surely tryout: "O God, make speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me."
Again, I feel that by the visitation of the Holy Spirit I have gained purpose
of soul, steadfastness of thought, keenness of heart, together with an
ineffable joy and transport of mind, and in the exuberance of spiritual
feelings I have perceived by a sudden illumination from the Lord an abounding
revelation of most holy ideas which were formerly altogether hidden from me:
In order that it may be vouch-safed to me to linger for a longer time in them
I must often and anxiously exclaim: "O God, make speed to save me: O Lord,
make haste to help me." Encompassed by nightly horrors of devils I am
agitated, and am disturbed by the appearances of unclean spirits, my very hope
of life and salvation is withdrawn by the horror of fear. Flying to the safe
refuge of this verse, I will cry out with all my might: "O God, make speed to
save me: O Lord, make haste to help me.' Again, when I have been restored by
the Lord's consolation, and, cheered by His coming, feel myself encompassed as
if by countless thousands of angels, so that all of a sudden I can venture to
seek the conflict and provoke a battle with those whom a while ago I dreaded
worse than death, and whose touch or even approach I felt with a shudder both
of mind and body: In order that the vigour of this courage may, by God's
grace, continue in me still longer, I must cry out with all my powers "O God,
make speed to save me: O Lord, make haste to help me." We must then
ceaselessly and continuously pour forth the prayer of this verse, in adversity
that we may be delivered, in prosperity that we may be preserved and not
puffed up. Let the thought of this verse, i tell you, be conned over in your
breast without ceasing. Whatever work you are doing, or office you are
holding, or journey you are going, do not cease to chant this. When you are
going to bed, or eating, and in the last necessities of nature, think on this.
This thought in your heart maybe to you a saving formula, and not only keep
you unharmed by all attacks of devils, but also purify you from all faults and
earthly stains, and lead you to that invisible and celestial contemplation,
and carry you on to that ineffable glow of prayer, of which so few have any
experience. Let sleep come upon you still considering this verse, till having
been moulded by the constant use of it, you grow accustomed to repeat it even
in your sleep. When you wake let it be the first thing to come into your mind,
let it anticipate all your waking thoughts, let it when you rise from your bed
send you down on your knees, and thence send you forth to all your work and
business, and let it follow you about all day long. This you should think
about, according to the Lawgiver's charge, "at home and walking forth on a
journey,"(1) sleeping and waking. This you should write on the threshold and
door of your mouth, this you should place on the walls of your house and in
the recesses of your heart so that when you fall on your knees in prayer this
may be your chant as you kneel, and when you rise up from it to go forth to
all the necessary business of life it may be your constant prayer as you
stand.
CHAPTER XI.
Of the perfection of prayer to which we can rise by the system
described.
THIS, this is the formula which the mind should unceasingly cling to
until, strengthened by the constant use of it and by continual meditation, it
casts off and rejects the rich and full material of all manner of thoughts and
restricts itself to the poverty of this one verse, and so arrives with ready
ease at that beatitude of the gospel, which holds the first place among the
other beatitudes: for He says "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is
the kingdom of heaven."(2) And so one who becomes grandly poor by a poverty of
this sort will fulfil this saying of the prophet: "The poor and needy shall
praise the name of the Lord."(3) And indeed what greater or holier poverty can
there be than that of one who knowing that he has no defence and no strength
of his own, asks for daily help from another's bounty, and as he is aware that
every single moment his life and substance depend on Divine assistance,
professes himself not without reason the Lord's bedesman, and cries to Him
daily in prayer: "But I am poor and needy: the Lord helpeth me."(4) And so by
the illumination of God Himself he mounts to that manifold knowledge of Him
and begins henceforward to be nourished on sublimer and still more sacred
mysteries, in accordance with these words of the prophet: "The high hills are
a refuge for the stags, the rocks for the
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hedgehogs,"(1) which is very fairly applied in the sense we have given,
because whosoever continues in simplicity and innocence is not injurious or
offensive to any one, but being content with his own simple condition
endeavours simply to defend himself from being spoiled by his foes, and
becomes a sort of spiritual hedgehog and is protected by the continual shield
of that rock of the gospel, i.e., being sheltered by the recollection of the
Lord's passion and by ceaseless meditation on the verse given above he escapes
the snares of his opposing enemies. And of these spiritual hedgehogs we read
in Proverbs as follows: "And the hedgehogs are a feeble folk, who have made
their homes in the rocks."(2) And indeed what is feebler than a Christian,
what is weaker than a monk, who is not only not permitted any vengeance for
wrongs done to him but is actually not allowed to suffer even a slight and
silent feeling of irritation to spring up within? But whoever advances from
this condition and not only secures the simplicity of innocence, but is also
shielded by the virtue of discretion, becomes an exterminator of deadly
serpents, and has Satan crushed beneath his feet, and by his quickness of mind
answers to the figure of the reasonable stag, this man will feed on the
mountains of the prophets and Apostles, i.e., on their highest and loftiest
mysteries. And thriving on this pasture continually, he will take in to
himself all the thoughts of the Psalms and will begin to sing them in such a
way that he will utter them with the deepest emotion of heart not as if they
were the compositions of the Psalmist, but rather as if they were his own
utterances and his very own prayer; and will certainly take them as aimed at
himself, and will recognize that their words were not only fulfilled formerly
by or in the person of the prophet, but that they are fulfilled and carried
out daily in his own case. For then the Holy Scriptures lie open to us with
greater clearness and as it were their very veins and marrow are exposed, when
our experience not only perceives but actually anticipates their meaning, and
the sense of the words is revealed to us not by an exposition of them but by
practical proof. For if we have experience of the very state of mind in which
each Psalm was sung and written, we become like their authors and anticipate
the meaning rather than follow it, i.e., gathering the force of the words
before we really know them, we remember what has happened to us, and what is
happening in daily assaults when the thoughts of them come over us, and while
we sing them we call to mind all that our carelessness has brought upon us, or
our earnestness has secured, or Divine Providence has granted or the
promptings of the foe have deprived us of, or slippery and subtle
forgetfulness has carried off, or human weakness has brought about, or
thoughtless ignorance has cheated us of. For all these feelings we find
expressed in the Psalms so that by seeing whatever happens as in a very clear
mirror we understand it better, and so instructed by our feelings as our
teachers we lay hold of it as something not merely heard but actually seen,
and, as if it were not committed to memory, but implanted in the very nature
of things, we are affected from the very bottom of the heart, so that we get
at its meaning not by reading the text but by experience anticipating it. And
so our mind will reach that incorruptible prayer to which in our former
treatise, as the Lord vouchsafed to grant, the scheme of our Conference
mounted, and this is not merely not engaged in gazing on any image, but is
actually distinguished by the use of no words or utterances; but with the
purpose of the mind all on fire, is produced through ecstasy of heart by some
unaccountable keenness of spirit, and the mind being thus affected without the
aid of the senses or any visible material pours it forth to God with groanings
and sighs that cannot be uttered.
CHAPTER XII.
A question as to how spiritual thoughts can be retained without
losing them.
GERMANUS: We think that you have described to us not only the system of
this spiritual discipline for which we asked, but perfection itself; and this
with great clearness and openness. For what can be more perfect and sublime
than for the recollection of God to be embraced in so brief a meditation, and
for it, dwelling on a single verse, to escape from all the limitations of
things visible, and to comprise in one short word the thoughts of all our
prayers. And therefore we beg you to explain to us one thing which still
remains; viz., how we can keep firm hold of this verse which you have given us
as a formula, in such a way that, as we have been by God's grace set free from
the trifles of worldly thoughts, so we may also keep a steady grasp on all
spiritual ones.
CHAPTER XIII.
On the lightness of thoughts.
FOR when the mind has taken in the meaning of a passage in any Psalm, this
insensibly slips
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away from it, and ignorantly and thoughtlessly it passes on to a text of some
other Scripture. And when it has begun to consider this with itself, while it
is still not thoroughly explored, the recollection of some other passage
springs up, and shuts out the consideration of the former subject. From this
too it is transferred to sortie other, by the entrance of some fresh
consideration, and the soul always turns about from Psalm to Psalm and jumps
from a passage in the Gospels to read one in the Epistles, and from this
passes on to the prophetic writings, and thence is carried to some spiritual
history, and so it wanders about vaguely and uncertainly through the whole
body of the Scriptures, unable, as it may choose, either to reject or keep
hold of anything, or to finish anything by fully considering and examining it,
and so becomes only a toucher or taster of spiritual meanings, not an author
and possessor of them. And so the mind, as it is always light and wandering,
is distracted even in time of service by all sorts of things, as if it were
intoxicated, and does not perform any office properly. For instance, while it
is praying, it is recalling some Psalm or passage of Scripture. While it is
chanting, it is thinking about something else besides what the text of the
Psalm itself contains. When it repeats a passage of Scripture, it is thinking
about something that has to be done, or remembering something that has been
done. And in this way it takes in and rejects nothing in a disciplined and
proper way, and seems to be driven about by random incursions, without the
power either of retaining what it likes or lingering over it. It is then well
for us before everything else to know how we can properly perform these
spiritual offices, and keep firm hold of this particular verse which you have
given us as a formula, so that the rise and fall of our feelings may not be in
a state of fluctuation from their own lightness, but may lie under our own
control.
CHAPTER XIV.
The answer how we can gain stability of heart or of thoughts.
ISAAC: Although, in our former discussion on the character of prayer,
enough was, as I think, said on this subject, yet as you want it repeated to
you again, I will give you a brief instruction on steadfastness of heart.
There are three things which make a shifting heart steadfast, watchings,
meditation, and prayer, diligence in which and constant attention will produce
steadfast firmness of mind. But this cannot be secured in any other way unless
all cares and anxieties of this present life have been first got rid of by
indefatigable persistence in work dedicated not to covetousness but to the
sacred uses of the monastery, that we may thus be able to fulfil the Apostle's
command: "Pray without ceasing."(1) For he prays too little, who is accustomed
only to pray at the times when he bends his knees. But he never prays, who
even while on his bended knees is distracted by all kinds of wanderings of
heart. And therefore what we would be found when at our prayers, that we ought
to be before the time of prayer. For at the time of its prayers the mind
cannot help being affected by its previous condition, and while it is praying,
will be either transported to things heavenly, or dragged down to earthly
things by those thoughts in which it had been lingering before prayer.
Thus far did Abbot Isaac carry on his Second Conference on the character
of Prayer to us astonished hearers; whose instruction on the consideration of
that verse quoted above (which he gave as a sort of outline for beginners to
hold) we greatly admired, and wished to follow very closely, as we fancied
that it would be a short and easy method; but we have found it even harder to
observe than that system of ours by which we used formerly to wander here and
there in varied meditations through the whole body of the Scriptures without
being tied by any chains of perseverance. It is then certain that no one is
kept away from perfection of heart by not being able to read, nor is rustic
simplicity any hindrance to the possession of purity of heart and mind, which
lies close at hand for all, if only they will by constant meditation on this
verse keep the thoughts of the mind safe and sound towards God.
CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.
THE SECOND PART OF THE CONFERENCES OF JOHN CASSIAN.
THE SECOND PART OF THE CONFERENCES
OF JOHN CASSIAN.
XI.
THE FIRST CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CHAEREMON.
ON PERFECTION.
CHAPTER I.
Description of the town of Thennesus.
WHEN We were living in a monastery in Syria after our first infancy in the
faith, and when after we had grown somewhat we had begun to long for some
greater grace of perfection, we determined straightway to seek Egypt and
penetrating even to the remotest desert of the Thebaid,(1) to visit very many
of the saints, whose glory and fame had spread abroad everywhere, with the
wish if not to emulate them at any rate to know them. And so we came by a very
lengthy voyage to a town of Egypt named Thennesus,(2) whose inhabitants are so
surrounded either by the sea or by salt lakes that they devote themselves to
business alone and get their wealth and substance by naval commerce as the
land fails them, so that indeed when they want to build houses, there is no
soil sufficient for this, unless it is brought by boat from a distance.
CHAPTER II.
Of Bishop Archebius.
AND when we arrived there, God gratified our wishes, and had brought about
the arrival of that most blessed and excellent man Bishop Archebius,(3) who
had been carried off from the assembly of anchorites and given as Bishop to
the town of Panephysis,(4) and who kept all his life long to his purpose of
solitude with such strictness that he relaxed nothing of the character of his
former humility, nor flattered himself on the honour that had been added to
him (for he vowed that he had not been summoned to that office as fit for it,
but complained that he had been expelled from the monastic system as unworthy
of it because though he had spent thirty-seven years in it he had never been
able to arrive at the purity so high a profession demands); he then when he
had received us kindly and most graciously in the aforesaid Thennesus whither
the business of electing a Bishop there had brought him, as soon as he heard
of our wish and desire to inquire of the holy fathers even in still more
remote parts of Egypt: "Come," said he, "see in the meanwhile the old men who
live not far from our monastery, the length of whose service is shown by their
bent bodies, as their holiness shines forth in their appearance, so that even
the mere sight of them will give a great lesson to those who see them: and
from them you can learn not so much by their words as by the actual example of
their holy life, what I grieve that I have lost, and having lost cannot give
to you. But I think that my poverty will be somewhat lessened by this zeal of
mine, if when you are seeking that pearl of the Gospel which I have not, I at
least provide where you can conveniently procure it.'
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CHAPTER III.
Description of the desert where Chaeremon, Nesteros, and
Joseph lived.
AND so he took his staff and scrip, as is there the custom for all monks
starting on a journey, and himself led us as guide of our road to his own
city, i.e., Panephysis, the lands of which and indeed the greater part of the
neighbouring region (formerly an extremely rich one since from it, as report
says, everything was supplied for the royal table), had been covered by the
sea which was disturbed by a sudden earthquake and overflowed its banks, and
so (almost all the villages being in ruins) covered what were formerly rich
lands with salt marshes, so that you might think that what is spiritually sung
in the psalm was a literal prophecy of that region. "He hath turned rivers
into a wilderness; and the Springs of waters into a thirsty land: a fruitful
land into saltness for the wickedness of them that dwell therein."(1) In these
districts then many towns perched in this way on the higher hills were
deserted by their inhabitants and turned by the inundation into islands, and
these afforded the desired solitude to the holy anchorites, among whom three
old men; viz., Chaeremon, Nesteros and Joseph, stood out as anchorites of the
longest standing.
CHAPTER IV.
Of Abbot Chaeremon and his excuse about the teaching which
we asked for.
AND so the blessed Archebius thought it best to take us first to
Chaeremon,(2) because he was nearer to his monastery, and because he was more
advanced than the other two in age: for he had passed the hundredth year of
his life, vigorous only in spirit, but with his back bowed with age and
constant prayer, so that, as if he were once more in his childhood he crawled
with his hands hanging down and resting on the ground. Gazing then at one and
the same time on this man's wonderful face and on his walk (for though all his
limbs had already failed and were dead yet he had lost none of the severity of
his previous strictness) when we humbly asked for the word and doctrine, and
declared that longing for spiritual instruction was the only reason for our
coming, he sighed deeply and said: What doctrine can I teach you, I in whom
the feebleness of age has relaxed my former strictness, as it has also
destroyed my confidence in speaking? For how could I presume to teach what I
do not do, or instruct another in what I know I now practise but feebly and
coldly? Wherefore I do not allow any of the younger men to live with me now
that I am of such an advanced age, lest the other's strictness should be
relaxed owing to my example. For the authority of a teacher will never be
strong unless he fixes it in the heart of his hearer by the actual performance
of his duty.
CHAPTER V.
Of our answer to his excuse.
AT this we were overwhelmed with no slight confusion and replied as
follows: Although both the difficulty of the place and the solitary life
itself, which even a robust youth could scarcely put up with, ought to be
sufficient to teach us everything (and indeed without your saying anything
they do teach and impress us a very great deal) yet still we ask you to lay
aside your silence for a little and in a more worthy manner implant in us
those principles by which we may be able to embrace, not so much by imitating
it as by admiring it, that goodness which we see in you. For even if our
coldness is known to you, and does not deserve to obtain what we are asking
for, yet at least the trouble of so long a journey ought to be repaid by it,
as we made haste to come here after our first beginning in the monastery of
Bethlehem, owing to a longing for your instruction, and a yearning for our own
good.
CHAPTER VI.
Abbot Chaeremon's statement that faults can be overcome in
three ways.
THEN the blessed CHAEREMON: There are, said he, three things which enable
men to control their faults; viz., either the fear of hell or of laws even now
imposed; or the hope and desire of the kingdom of heaven; or a liking for
goodness itself and the love of virtue. For then we read that the fear of evil
loathes contamination: "The fear of the Lord hateth evil."(3) Hope also shuts
out the assaults of all faults: for "all who hope in Him shall not fail."(4)
Love also fears no destruction from sins, for "love never faileth;"(5) and
again: "love covers a multitude of sins."(6) And therefore the blessed Apostle
confines the whole
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sum of salvation in the attainment of those three virtues, saying "Now abideth
faith, hope, love, these three."(1) For faith is what makes us shun the stains
of sin from fear of future judgment and punishment; hope is what withdraws our
mind from present things, and despises all bodily pleasures from its
expectation of heavenly rewards; love is what inflames us with keenness of
heart for the love of Christ and the fruit of spiritual goodness, and makes us
hate with a perfect hatred whatever is opposed to these. And these three
things although they all seem to aim at one and the same end (for they incite
us to abstain from things unlawful) yet they differ from each other greatly in
the degrees of their excellence. For the two former belong properly to those
men who in their aim at goodness have not yet acquired the love of virtue, and
the third belongs specially to God and to those who have received into
themselves the image and likeness of God. For He alone does the things that
are good, with no fear and no thanks or reward to stir Him up, but simply from
the love of goodness. For, as Solomon says, "The Lord hath made all things for
Himself."(2) For under cover of His own goodness He bestows all the fulness of
good things on the worthy and the unworthy because He cannot be wearied by
wrongs, nor be moved by passions at the sins of men, as He ever remains
perfect goodness and unchangeable in His nature.
CHAPTER VII.
By what steps we can ascend to the heights of love and what
permanence there is in it.
IF then any one is aiming at perfection, from that first Stage of fear
which we rightly termed servile (of which it is said: "When ye have done all
things say: we are unprofitable servants,"(3)) he should by advancing a step
mount to the higher path of hope--which is compared not to a slave but to a
hireling, because it looks for the payment of its recompense, and as if it
were free from care concerning absolution of its sins and fear of punishment,
and conscious of its own good works, though it seems to look for the promised
reward, yet it cannot attain to that love of a son who, trusting in his
father's kindness and liberality, has no doubt that all that the father has is
his, to which also that prodigal who together with his father's substance had
lost the very name of son, did not venture to aspire, when he said: "I am no
more worthy to be called thy son;" for after those husks which the swine ate,
satisfaction from which was denied to him, i.e., the disgusting food of sin,
as he "came to himself," and was overcome by a salutary fear, he already began
to loathe the uncleanness of the swine, and to dread the punishment of gnawing
hunger, and as if he had already been made a servant, desires the condition of
a hireling and thinks about the remuneration, and says: "How many hired
servants of my father have abundance of bread, and I perish here with hunger.
I will then return to my father and will say unto him, 'Father I have sinned
against heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son:
make me as one of thy hired servants.'"(4) But those words of humble penitence
his father who ran to meet him received with greater affection than that with
which they were spoken, and was not content to allow him lesser things, but
passing through the two stages without delay restored him to his former
dignity of sonship. We also ought forthwith to hasten on that by means of the
indissoluble grace of love we may mount to that third stage of sonship, which
believes that all that the father has is its own, and so we may be counted
worthy to receive the image and likeness of our heavenly Father, and be able
to say after the likeness of the true son: "All that the Father hath is
mine."(5) Which also the blessed Apostle declares of us, saying: "All things
are yours, whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death,
or things present, or things to come; all are yours."(6) And to this likeness
the commands of our Saviour also summon us: "Be ye," says He, "perfect, even
as your Father in heaven is perfect"(7) For in these persons sometimes the
love of goodness is found to be interrupted, when the vigour of the soul is
relaxed by some coldness or joy or delight, and so loses either the fear of
hell for the time, or the desire of future blessings. And there is indeed in
these a stage leading to some advance, which affects us so that when from fear
of punishment or from hope of reward we begin to avoid sin we are enabled to
pass on to the stage of love, for "fear," says one, "is not in love, but
perfect love casteth out fear: for fear hath torment, but he who fears is not
perfect in love. We therefore love because God first loved us."(8) We can then
only ascend to that true perfection when, as He first loved us for the grace
of nothing but our salvation, we also have loved Him for the sake of nothing
but His own love alone. Wherefore we must do our best to mount with
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perfect ardour of mind from this fear to hope, from hope to the love of God,
and the love of the virtues themselves, that as we steadily pass on to the
love of goodness itself, we may, as far as it is possible for human nature,
keep firm hold of what is good.
CHAPTER VIII.
How greatly those excel who depart from sin through the
feeling of love.
FOR there is a great difference between one who puts out the fire of sin
within him by fear of hell or hope of future reward, and one who from the
feeling of divine love has a horror of sin itself and of uncleanness, and
keeps hold of the virtue of purity simply from the love and longing for
purity, and looks for no reward from a promise for the future, but, delighted
with the knowledge of good things present, does everything not from regard to
punishment but from delight in virtue. For this condition can neither abuse an
opportunity to sin when all human witnesses are absent, nor be corrupted by
the secret allurements of thoughts, while, keeping in its very marrow the love
of virtue itself, it not only does not admit into the heart anything that is
opposed to it, but actually hates it with the utmost horror. For it is one
thing for a man in his delight at some present good to hate the stains of sins
and of the flesh, and another thing to check unlawful desires by contemplating
the future reward; and it is one thing to fear present loss and another to
dread future punishment. Lastly it is a much greater thing to be unwilling to
forsake good for good's own sake, than it is to withhold consent from evil for
fear of evil. For in the former case the good is voluntary, but in the latter
it is constrained and as it were violently forced out of a reluctant party
either by fear of punishment or by greed of reward. For one who abstains from
the allurements of sin owing to fear, will whenever the obstacle of fear is
removed, once more return to what he loves and thus will not continually
acquire any stability in good, nor will he ever rest free from attacks because
he will not secure the sure and lasting peace of chastity. For where there is
the disturbance of warfare there cannot help being the danger of wounds. For
one who is in the midst of the conflict, even though he is a warrior and by
fighting bravely inflicts frequent and deadly wounds on his foes, must still
sometimes be pierced by the point of the enemy's sword. But one who has
defeated the attack of sins and is now in the enjoyment of the security of
peace, and has passed on to the love of virtue itself, will keep this
condition of good continually, as he is entirely wrapped up in it, because he
believes that nothing can be worse than the loss of his inmost chastity. For
he deems nothing dearer or more precious than present purity, to whom a
dangerous departure from virtue or a poisonous stain of sin is a grievous
punishment. To such an one, I say, neither will regard for the presence of
another add anything to his goodness nor will solitude take anything away from
it: but as always and everywhere he bears about with him his conscience as a
judge not only of his actions but also of his thoughts, he will especially try
to please it, as he knows that it cannot be cheated nor deceived, and that he
cannot escape it.
CHAPTER IX.
That love not only makes sons out of servants, but also bestows
the image and likeness of God.
AND if to anyone relying on the help of God and not on his own efforts, it
has been vouch-safed to acquire this state, from the condition of a Servant,
wherein is fear, and from a mercenary greed of hope, whereby there is sought
not so much the good of the donor as the recompense of reward, he will begin
to pass on to the adoption of sons, where there is no longer fear, nor greed,
but that love which never faileth continually endures. Of which fear and love
the Lord in chiding some shows what is befitting for each one: "A son knoweth
his own father, and a servant feareth his lord: And if I be a Father, where is
My honour: and if I be a Lord, where is my fear?"(1) For one who is a servant
must needs fear because "if knowing his lord's will he has done things worthy
of stripes, he shall be beaten with many stripes."(2) Whoever then by this
love has attained the image and likeness of God, will now delight in goodness
for the pleasure of goodness itself, and having somehow a like feeling of
patience and gentleness will henceforth be angered by no faults of sinners,
but in his compassion and sympathy will rather ask for pardon for their
infirmities, and, remembering that for so long he himself was tried by the
stings of similar passions till by the Lord's mercy he was saved, will feel
that, as he was saved from carnal attacks not by the teaching of his own
exertions but by God's protection, not anger but pity ought to be shown to
those who go astray; and with full peace of mind will he sing to God
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the following verse: "Thou hast broken my chains. I will offer to Thee the
sacrifice of praise;" and: "except the Lord had helped me, my soul had almost
dwelt in hell."(1) And while he continues in this humility of mind he will be
able even to fulfil this Evangelic command of perfection: "Love your enemies,
do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that persecute you and
slander you."(2) And so it will be vouchsafed to us to attain that reward
which is subjoined, whereby we shall not only bear the image and likeness of
God, but shall even be called sons: "that ye may be," says He "sons of your
Father which is in heaven, Who maketh His sun to rise on the good and evil,
and sends rain on the just and on the unjust:"(3) and this feeling the blessed
John knew that he had attained when he said: "that we may have confidence in
the day of judgment, because as He is so are we also in this world."(4) For in
what can a weak and fragile human nature be like Him, except in always showing
a calm love in its heart towards the good and evil, the just and the unjust,
in imitation of God, and by doing good for the love of goodness itself,
arriving at that true adoption of the sons of God, of which also the blessed
Apostle speaks as follows: "Every one that is born of God doeth not sin, for
His seed is in him, and he cannot sin, because he is born of God;" and again:
"We know that every one who is born of God sinneth not, but his birth of God
preserves him, and the wicked one toucheth him not?"(5) And this must be
understood not of all kinds of sins, but only of mortal sins: and if any one
will not extricate and cleanse himself from these, for him the aforesaid
Apostle tells us in another place that we ought not even to pray, saying: "If
a man knows his brother to be sinning a sin not unto death, let him ask, and
He will give him life for them that sin not unto death. There is a sin unto
death: I do not say that he should ask for it."(6) But of those which he says
are not unto death, from which even those who serve Christ faithfully cannot,
with whatever care they keep themselves, be free, of these he says: "If we say
that we have no sin we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us;" and
again: "If we say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar, and His word is
not in us." 7 For it is an impossibility for any one of the saints not to fall
into those trivial faults which are committed by word, and thought, and
ignorance, and forgetfulness, and necessity, and will, and surprise: which
though quite different from that sin which is said to be unto death, still
cannot be free from fault and blame.
CHAPTER X.
How it is the perfection of love to pray for one's enemies and by what signs
we may recognize a mind that is not yet purified.
WHEN then any one has acquired this love of goodness of which we have been
speaking, and the imitation of God, then he will be endowed with the Lord's
heart of compassion, and will pray also for his persecutors, saying in like
manner: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."(8) But it is a
clear sign of a soul that is not yet thoroughly purged from the dregs of sin,
not to sorrow with a feeling of pity at the offences of others, but to keep to
the rigid censure of the judge: for how will he be able to obtain perfection
of heart, who is without that by which, as the Apostle has pointed out, the
full requirements of the law can be fulfilled, saying: "Bear one another's
burdens and so fulfil the law of Christ,"(9) and who has not that virtue of
love, which "is not grieved, is not puffed up, thinketh no evil," which
"endureth all things, beareth all things."(10) For "a righteous man pitieth
the life of his beasts: but the heart of the ungodly is without pity."(11) And
so a monk is quite certain to fall into the same sins which he condemns in
another with merciless and inhuman severity, for "a stern king will fall into
misfortunes," and "one who stops his ears so as not to hear the weak, shall
himself cry, and there shall be none to hear him."(12)
CHAPTER XI.
A question why he has called the feeling of fear and hope
imperfect.
GERMANUS: You have indeed spoken powerfully and grandly of the perfect
love of God. But still this fact disturbs us; viz., that while you were
exalting it with such praise, you said that the fear of God and the hope of
eternal reward were imperfect, though the prophet seems to have thought quite
differently about them, where he said: "Fear the Lord, all ye His saints, for
they that fear Him lack nothing."(13) And again in the matter of observing
God's righteous acts he admits that he has done them from consideration of the
reward, saying: "I have inclined my heart to do thy righteous acts forever,
for the reward."(14) And the Apostle says: "By faith Moses when he
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was grown up, denied himself to be the son of Pharaoh's daughter; choosing
rather to be afflicted with the people of God than to have the pleasure of sin
for a season, esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than the
treasure of the Egyptians; for he looked unto the reward."(1) How then can we
think that they are imperfect, if the blessed David boasted that he did the
righteous acts of God in hope of a recompense, and the giver of the Law is
said to have looked for a future reward and so to have despised the adoption
to royal dignity, and to have preferred the most terrible affliction to the
treasures of the Egyptians?
CHAPTER XII.
The answer on the different kinds of perfection.
CHAEREMON: In accordance with the condition and measure of every mind Holy
Scripture summons our free wills to different grades of perfection. For no
uniform crown of perfection can be offered to all men, because all have not
the same virtue, or purpose, or fervour, and so the Divine Word has in some
way appointed different ranks and different measures of perfection itself. And
that this is so the variety of beatitudes in the gospel clearly shows. For
though they are called blessed, whose is the kingdom of heaven, and blessed
are they who shall possess the earth, and blessed are they who shall receive
their consolation, and blessed are they who shall be filled, yet we believe
that there is a great difference between the habitations of the kingdom of
heaven, and the possession of the earth, whatever it be, and also between the
reception of consolation and the fulness and satisfaction of righteousness;
and that there is a great distinction between those who shall obtain mercy,
and those who shall be deemed worthy to enjoy the most glorious vision of God.
"For there is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another
glory of the stars: for star differeth from star in glory, so also is the
resurrection of the dead."(2) While therefore in accordance with this rule
holy Scripture praises those who fear God, and says "Blessed are all they that
fear the Lord,"(3) and promises them for this a full measure of bliss, yet it
says again: "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casteth out fear: for
fear hath torment. But he that feareth is not yet perfect in love."(4) And
again, though it is a grand thing to serve God, and it is said: "Serve the
Lord in fear;" and: "It is a great thing for thee to be called My servant;"
and: "Blessed is that servant whom his Lord, when He cometh, shall find so
doing,"(5) yet it is said to the Apostles: "I no longer call you servants, for
the servant knoweth not what his Lord doeth: but I call you friends, for all
things whatsoever I have heard from my Father, I have made known unto you."(6)
And once more: "Ye are My friends, if ye do whatever I command you."(7) You
see then that there are different stages of perfection, and that we are called
by the Lord from high things to still higher in such a way that he who has
become blessed and perfect m the fear of God; going as it is written "from
strength to strength,"(8) and from one perfection to another, i.e., mounting
with keenness of soul from fear to hope, is summoned in the end to that still
more blessed stage, which, is love, and he who has been "a faithful and wise
servant"(9) will pass to the companionship of friendship and to the adoption
of sons. So then our saying also must be understood according to this meaning:
not that we say that the consideration of that enduring punishment or of that
blessed recompense which is promised to the saints is of no value, but
because, though they are useful and introduce those who pursue them to the
first beginning of blessedness, yet again love, wherein is already fuller
confidence, and a lasting joy, will remove them from servile fear and
mercenary hope to the love of God, and carry them on to the adoption of sons,
and somehow make them from being perfect still more perfect. For the Saviour
says that in His Father's house are "many mansions,"(10) and although all the
stars seem to be in the sky, yet there is a mighty difference between the
brightness of the sun and of the moon, and between that of the morning star
and the rest of the stars. And therefore the blessed Apostle prefers it not
only above fear and hope but also above all gifts which are counted great and
wonderful, and shows the way of love still more excellent than all. For when
after finishing his list of spiritual gifts of virtues he wanted to describe
its members, he began as follows: "And yet I show unto you a still more
excellent way. Though I speak with the tongues of men and angels, and though I
have the gift of prophecy and know all mysteries and all knowledge, and though
I have all faith so that I can remove mountains, and though I bestow all my
goods to feed the poor, and give my body to be burned,
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but have not love, it profiteth me nothing." You see then that nothing more
precious, nothing more perfect, nothing more sublime, and, if I may say so,
nothing more enduring can be found than love. For "whether there be
prophecies, they shall fail, whether there be tongues, they shall cease,
whether there be knowledge, it shall be destroyed," but "love never
faileth,"(1) and without it not only those most excellent kinds of gifts, but
even the glory of martyrdom itself will fail.
CHAPTER XIII.
Of the fear which is the outcome of the greatest love.
WHOEVER then has been established in this perfect love is sure to mount by
a higher stage to that still more sublime fear belonging to love, which is the
outcome of no dread of punishment or greed of reward, but of the greatest
love; whereby a son fears with earnest affection a most indulgent father, or a
brother fears his brother, a friend his friend, or a wife her husband, while
there is no dread of his blows or reproaches, but only of a slight injury to
his love, and while in every word as well as act there is ever care taken by
anxious affection lest the warmth of his love should cool in the very
slightest degree towards the object of it. And one of the prophets has finely
described the grandeur of this fear, saying: "Wisdom and knowledge are the
riches of salvation: the fear of the Lord is his treasure."(2) He could not
describe with greater clearness the worth and value of that fear than by
saying that the riches of our salvation, which consist in true wisdom and
knowledge of God, can only be preserved by the fear of the Lord. To this fear
then not sinners but saints are invited by the prophetic word where the
Psalmist says: "O fear the Lord, all ye His Saints: for they that fear Him
lack nothing."(3) For where a man fears the Lord with this fear it is certain
that nothing is lacking to his perfection. For it was clearly of that other
penal fear that the Apostle John said that "He who feareth is not made perfect
in love, for fear hath punishment."(4) There is then a great difference
between this fear, to which nothing is lacking, which is the treasure of
wisdom and knowledge, and that imperfect fear which is called "the beginning
of wisdom,"(5) and which has in it punishment and so is expelled from the
hearts of those who are perfect by the incoming of the fulness of love. For
"there is no fear in love, but perfect love casteth out fear."(6) And in truth
if the beginning of wisdom consists in fear, what will its perfection be
except in the love Of Christ which, as it contains in it the fear which
belongs to perfect love, is called not the beginning but the treasure of
wisdom and knowledge? And therefore there is a twofold stage of fear. The one
for beginners, i.e., for those who are still subject to the yoke and to
servile terror; of which we read: "And the servant shall fear his Lord;"(7)
and in the gospel: "I no longer call you servants, for the servant knoweth not
what his Lord doeth;" and therefore "the servant," He tells us, "abideth not
in the house for ever, but the Son abideth for ever."(8) For He is instructing
us to pass on from that penal fear to the fullest freedom of love, and the
confidence of the friends and sons of God. Finally the blessed Apostle, who
had by the power of the Lord's love already passed through the servile stage
of fear, scorns lower things and declares that he has been enriched with good
things by the Lord, "for God hath not given us" he says "a spirit of fear but
of power and of love and of a sound mind."(9) Those also who are inflamed with
a perfect love of their heavenly Father, and whom the Divine adoption has
already made sons instead of servants, he addresses in these words: "For ye
have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear, but ye received the
spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father."(10) It is of this fear too,
that the prophet spoke when he would describe that sevenfold spirit, which
according to the mystery of the Incarnation, full surely descended on the God
man:(11) "And there shall rest upon Him the Spirit of the Lord: the Spirit of
wisdom and of understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of might, the Spirit of
knowledge and of true godliness," and in the last place he adds as something
special these words: "And the Spirit of the fear of the Lord shall fill
Him."(12) Where we must in the first place notice carefully that he does not
say "and there shall rest upon Him the Spirit of fear," as he said in the
earlier cases, but he says "there shall fill Him the Spirit of the fear of the
Lord." For such is the greatness of its richness that when once it has seized
on a man by its power, it takes possession not of a portion but of his whole
mind. And not without good reason. For as it is closely joined to that love
which "never faileth," it not only fills the man, but takes a lasting and
inseparable
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and continual possession of him in whom it has begun, and is not lessened by
any allurements of temporal joy or delights, as is sometimes the case with
that fear which is cast out. This then is the fear belonging to perfection,
with which we are told that the God-man,(1) who came not only to redeem
mankind, but also to give us a pattern of perfection and example of goodness,
was filled. For the true Son of God "who did no sin neither was guile found in
His mouth,"(2) could not feel that servile fear of punishment.
CHAPTER XIV.
A question about complete chastity.
GERMANUS: Now that you have finished your discourse on perfect chastity,
we want also to ask somewhat more freely about the end of chastity. For we do
not doubt that those lofty heights of love, by which, as you have hitherto
explained, we mount to the image and likeness of God, cannot possibly exist
without perfect purity. But we should like to know whether a lasting grant of
it can be secured so that no incitement to lust may ever disturb the serenity
of our heart, and that thus we may be enabled to pass the time of our
sojourneying in the flesh free from this carnal passion, so as never to be
inflamed by the fire of excitement.
CHAPTER XV.
The postponement of the explanation which is asked for.
CHAEREMON: It is indeed a sign of the utmost blessedness and of singular
goodness both continually to learn and to teach that love by which we cling to
the Lord, so that meditation on Him may, as the Psalmist says, occupy all the
days and nights of our life,(3) and may support our soul, which insatiably
hungers and thirsts after righteousness, by continually chewing the cud of
this heavenly food. But we must also, in accordance with the kindly
forethought of our Saviour, make some provision for the food of the body, that
we faint not by the way,(4) for "the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh
is weak."(5) And this we must now secure by taking a little food, so that
after supper, the mind may be rendered more attentive for the careful tracing
out of what you want.
CASSIAN'S CONFERENCES.
XIII.
THE THIRD CONFERENCE OF ABBOT CHAEREMON.
ON THE PROTECTION OF GOD.(6)
CHAPTER I.
Introduction.
WHEN after a short sleep we returned for morning service and were waiting
for the old man, Abbot Germanus was troubled by great scruples because in the
previous discussion, the force of which had inspired us with the utmost
longing for this chastity which was till now unknown to us, the blessed old
man had by the addition of a single sentence broken down the claims of man's
exertions, adding that man even though he strive with all his
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might for a good result, yet cannot become meter of what is good unless he has
acquired it simply by the gift of Divine bounty and not by the efforts of his
own toil. While then we were puzzling over this question the blessed Chaeremon
arrived at the cell, and as he saw that we were whispering together about
something, he cut the service of prayers and Psalms shorter than usual, and
asked us what was the matter.
CHAPTER II.
A question why the merit of good deeds may not be ascribed to the exertions of
the man who does them,
THEN GERMANUS: As we are almost shut out, so to speak, by the greatness of
that splendid virtue, which was described in last night's discussion, from
believing in the possibility of it, so, if you will pardon my saying so, it
seems to us absurd for the reward of our efforts, i.e., perfect chastity,
which is gained by the earnestness of one's own toil, not to be ascribed
chiefly to the exertions of the man who makes the effort. For it is foolish,
if, when for example, we see a husbandman taking the utmost pains over the
cultivation of the ground, we do not ascribe the fruits to his exertions.
CHAPTER III.
The answer that without God's help not only perfect chastity but all good of
every kind cannot be performed.
CHAEREMON: By this very instance which you bring forward we can still more
clearly prove that the exertions of the worker can do nothing without God's
aid. For neither can the husbandman, when he has spent the utmost pains in
cultivating the ground, forthwith ascribe the produce of the crops and the
rich fruits to his own exertions, as he finds that these are often in vain
unless opportune rains and a quiet and calm winter aids them, so that we have
often seen fruits already ripe and set and thoroughly matured snatched as it
were from the hands of those who were grasping them; and their continuous and
earnest efforts were of no use to the workers because they were not under the
guidance of the Lord's assistance. As then the Divine goodness does not grant
these rich crops to idle husbandmen who do not till their fields by frequent
ploughing, so also toil all night long is of no use to the workers unless the
mercy of the Lord prospers it. But herein human pride should never try to put
itself on a level with the grace of God or to intermingle itself with it, so
as to fancy that its own efforts were the cause of Divine bounty, or to boast
that a very plentiful crop of fruits was an answer to the merits of its own
exertions. For a man should consider and with a most careful scrutiny weigh
the fact that he could not by his own strength apply those very efforts which
he has earnestly used in his desire for wealth, unless the Lord's protection
and pity had given him strength for the performance of all agricultural
labours; and that his own will and strength would have been powerless unless
Divine compassion had supplied the means for the completion of them, as they
sometimes fail either from too much or from too little rain. For when vigour
has been granted by the Lord to the oxen, and bodily health and the power to
do all the work, and prosperity in undertakings, still a man must pray lest
there come to him, as Scripture says, "a heaven of brass and an earth of
iron," and "the cankerworm eat what the locust hath left, and the palmerworm
eat what the cankerworm hath left, and the mildew destroys what the palmerworm
hath left."(1) Nor is it only in this that the efforts of the husbandman in
his work need God's help, unless it also averts unlooked for accidents by
which, even when the field is rich with the expected fruitful crops, not only
is the man deprived of what he has vainly hoped and looked for, but actually
loses the abundant fruits which he has already gathered and stored up in the
threshing floor or in the barn. From which we clearly infer that the
initiative not only of our actions but also of good thoughts comes from God,
who inspires us with a good will to begin with, and supplies us with the
opportunity of carrying out what we rightly desire: for "every good gift and
every perfect gift cometh down from above, from the Father of lights,"(2) who
both begins what is good, and continues it and completes it in us, as the
Apostle says: "But He who giveth seed to the sower will both provide bread to
eat and will multiply your seed and make the fruits of your righteousness to
increase."(3) But it is for us, humbly to follow day by day the grace of God
which is drawing us, or else if we resist with "a stiff neck," and (to use the
words of Scripture) "uncircumcised ears,"(4) we shall deserve to hear the
words of Jeremiah: "Shall he that falleth, not rise again? and he that is
turned away, shall he not turn again? Why then is this people in Jerusalem
turned away with a stubborn revolting? They have stiffened their necks and
refused to return."(5)
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CHAPTER IV.
An objection, asking how the Gentiles can be said to have chastity without the
grace of God.
GERMANUS: To this explanation, the excellence of which we cannot hastily
disprove, it seems a difficulty that it tends to destroy free will. For as we
see that many of the heathen to whom the assistance of Divine grace has
certainly not been vouchsafed, are eminent not only in the virtues of
frugality and patience, but (which is more remarkable) in that of chastity,
how can we think that the freedom of their will is taken captive and that
these virtues are granted to them by God's gift, especially as in following
after the wisdom of this world, and in their utter ignorance not only of God's
grace but even of the existence of the true God, as we have known Him by the
course of our reading and the teaching of others--they are said to have gained
the most perfect purity of chastity by their own efforts and exertions.
CHAPTER V.
The answer on the imaginary chastity of the philosophers.
CHAEREMON: I am pleased that, though you are fired with the greatest
longing to know the truth, yet you bring forward some foolish points, as by
your raising these objections the value of the Catholic faith may seem better
established, and if I may use the expression, more thoroughly explored. For
what wise man would make such contradictory statements as yesterday to
maintain that the heavenly purity of chastity Could not possibly even by God's
grace be bestowed on any mortals, and now to hold that it was obtained even by
the heathen by their own strength? But as you have certainly, as I said, made
these objections from the desire of getting at the truth, consider what we
hold on these points. First we certainly must not think that the philosophers
attained such chastity of soul, as is required of us, on whom it is enjoined
that not fornication only, but uncleanness be not so much as named among us.
But they had a sort of merikh, i.e., some particle of chastity;
viz. continence of the flesh, by which they could restrain their lust from
carnal intercourse: but this internal purity of mind and continual purity of
body they could not attain, I will not say, in act, but even in thought.
Finally Socrates, the most famous of them all, as they themselves esteem him,
was not ashamed to profess this of himself. For when one who judged a man's
character by his looks (yusiognwmwnn) looked at him, and said
ommata paid erastou, i.e., "the
eyes of a corrupter of boys," and his scholars rushed at him, and brought him
to their master and wanted to avenge the insult, it is said that he checked
their indignation with these words: pausaoqe,
etairoi. eimi gar,
epekw de, i.e., Stop, my friends, for I am, but
I restrain myself. It is then quite clearly shown not only by our assertions
but actually by their own admissions that it was only the performance of
indecent acts, i.e., the disgrace of intercourse, that was by force of
necessity checked by them, and that the desire and delight in this passion was
not shut out from their hearts. But with what horror must one bring forward
this saying of Diogenes? For a thing which the philosophers of this world were
not ashamed to bring forward as something remarkable, cannot be spoken or
heard by us without shame: for to one to be punished for the crime of adultery
they relate that he said to dwrean
pwloumenon qanatw mh
agoraze, i.e., you should not buy with your death what is sold
for nothing.(1) It is clear then that they did not recognize the virtue of the
true chastity which we seek for, and so it is quite certain that our
circumcision which is in the spirit cannot be acquired save only by the gift
of God, and that it belongs only to those who serve God with full contrition
of their spirit.
CHAPTER VI.
That without the grace of God we cannot make any diligent
efforts.
AND therefore though in many things, indeed in everything, it can be shown
that men always have need of God's help, and that human weakness cannot
accomplish anything that has to do with salvation by itself alone, i.e.,
without the aid of God, yet in nothing is this more clearly shown than in the
acquisition and preservation of chastity. For as the discussion on the
difficulty of its perfection is put off for so long, let us meanwhile
discourse briefly on the instruments of it. Who, I ask, could, however fervent
he might be in spirit, relying on his own strength with no praise from men
endure the squalor of the desert, and I will not say the daily lack but the
supply of dry bread? Who without the Lord's consolation, could put up with the
continual thirst for water, or deprive his human eyes of that sweet and
delicious morning sleep, and regularly compress his whole time of rest and
repose into the limits of four hours? Who would be sufficient without God's
grace to give continual attendance to reading and constant earnestness in
work, receiving no advantage of
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present gain? And all these matters, as we cannot desire them continuously
without divine inspiration, so in no respect whatever can we perform them
without His help. And that we may ensure that these things are not only proved
to us by the teaching of experience, but also made still clearer by sure proof
and arguments, does not some weakness intervene in the case of many things
which we wish usefully to perform, and though the full keenness of our desire
and the perfection of our will be not wanting, yet interfere with the wish we
have conceived, so that there is no carrying out of our purpose, unless the
power to perform it has been granted by the mercy of the Lord, so that,
although there are countless swarms of people who are anxious to stick
faithfully to the pursuit of virtue, you can scarcely find any who are able to
carry it out and endure it, to say nothing of the fact that, even when no
weakness at all hinders us, the opportunity for doing everything that we wish
does not lie in our own power. For it is not in our power to secure the
silence of solitude and severe fasts and undisturbed study even when we could
use such opportunities, but by a chapter of accidents we are often very much
against our will kept away from the salutary ordinances so that we have to
pray to the Lord for opportunities of place or time in which to practise them.
And it is clear that the ability for these is not sufficient for us unless
there be also granted to us by the Lord an opportunity of doing what we are
capable of (as the Apostle also says: "For we wanted to come to you once and
again, but Satan hindered us"(1)), so that sometimes we find for our advantage
we are called away from these spiritual exercises in order that while without
our own consent the regularity of our routine is broken and we yield something
to weakness of the flesh, we may even against our will be brought to a
salutary patience. Of which providential arrangement of God the blessed
Apostle says something similar: "For which I besought the Lord thrice that it
might depart from me. And He said to me: My grace is sufficient for thee: for
my strength is made perfect in weakness:" and again: "For we know not what to
pray for as we ought."(2)
CHAPTER VII.
Of the main purpose of God and His daily Providence.
FOR the purpose of God whereby He made man not to perish but to live for
ever, stands immovable. And when His goodness sees in us even the very
smallest spark of good will shining forth, which He Himself has struck as it
were out of the hard flints of our hearts, He fans and fosters it and nurses
it with His breath, as He "willeth all men to be saved and to come to the
knowledge of the truth," for as He says, "it is not the will of your Father
which is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish," and again it
says: "Neither will God have a soul to perish, but recalleth," meaning that he
that is cast off should not altogether perish.(3) For He is true, and lieth
not when He lays down with an oath: "As I live, saith the Lord God, for I will
not the death of a sinner, but that he should turn from his way and live."(4)
For if He willeth not that one of His little ones should perish, how can we
imagine without grievous blasphemy that He does not generally will all men,
but only some instead of all to be saved? Those then who perish, perish
against His will, as He testifies against each one of them day by day: "Turn
from your evil ways, and why will ye die, O house of Israel?"(5) And again:
"How often would I have gathered thy children together as a hen gathereth her
chickens under her wings, and ye would not;" and: "Wherefore is this people in
Jerusalem turned away with a stubborn revolting? They have hardened their
faces and refused to return."(6) The grace of Christ then is at hand every
day, which, while it "willeth all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge
of the truth," calleth all without any exception, saying: "Come unto Me, all
ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will refresh you."(7) But if He
calls not all generally but only some, it follows that not all are heavy laden
either with original or actual sin, and that this saying is not a true one:
"For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God;" nor can we believe
that "death passed on all men."(8) And so far do all who perish, perish
against the will of God, that God cannot be said to have made death, as
Scripture itself testifies: "For God made not death, neither rejoiceth in the
destruction of the living."(9) And hence it comes that for the most part when
instead of good things we ask for the opposite, our prayer is either heard but
tardily or not at all; and again the Lord vouchsafes to bring upon us even
against our will, like some most beneficent physician, for our good what we
think is opposed to it, and sometimes He delays and hinders our injurious
purposes and deadly attempts from having their
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horrible effects, and, while we are rushing headlong towards death, draws us
back to salvation, and rescues us without our knowing it from the jaws of
hell.
CHAPTER VIII.
Of the grace of God and the freedom of the will.
AND this care of His and providence with regard to us the Divine word has
finely described by the prophet Hosea under the figure of Jerusalem as an
harlot, and inclining with disgraceful eagerness to the worship of idols,
where when she says: "I will go after my lovers, who give me my bread, and my
water, and my wool, and my flax, and my oil, and my drink;" the Divine
consideration replies having regard to her salvation and not to her wishes:
"Behold I will hedge up thy way with thorns, and I will stop it up with a
wall, and she shall not find her paths. And she shall follow after her lovers,
and shall not overtake them: and she shall seek them, and shall not find them,
and shall say: I will return to my first husband, because it was better with
me then than now."(1) And again our obstinacy, and scorn, with which we in our
rebellious spirit disdain Him when He urges us to a salutary return, is
described in the following comparison: He says: "And I said thou shalt call Me
Father, and shalt not cease to walk after Me. But as a woman that despiseth
her lover, so hath the house of Israel despised Me, saith the Lord."(2) Aptly
then, as He has compared Jerusalem to an adulteress forsaking her husband, He
compares His own love and persevering goodness to a man who is dying of love
for a woman. For the goodness and love of God, which He ever shows to
mankind,--since it is overcome by no injuries so as to cease from caring for
our salvation, or be driven from His first intention, as if vanquished by our
iniquities,--could not be more fitly described by any comparison than the case
of a man inflamed with most ardent love for a woman, who is consumed by a more
burning passion for her, the more he sees that he is slighted and despised by
her. The Divine protection then is inseparably present with us, and so great
is the kindness of the Creator towards His creatures, that His Providence not
only accompanies it, but actually constantly precedes it, as the prophet
experienced and plainly confessed, saying: "My God will prevent me with His
mercy."(3) And when He sees in us some beginnings of a good will, He at once
enlightens it and strengthens it and urges it on towards salvation, increasing
that which He Himself implanted or which He sees to have arisen from our own
efforts. For He says "Before they cry, I will hear them: While they are still
speaking I will hear them;" and again: "As soon as He hears the voice of thy
crying, He will answer thee."(4) And in His goodness, not only does He inspire
us with holy desires, but actually creates occasions for life and
opportunities for good results, and shows to those in error the direction of
the way of salvation.
CHAPTER IX.
Of the power of our good will, and the grace of God.
WHENCE human reason cannot easily decide how the Lord gives to those that
ask, is found by those that seek, and opens to those that knock, and on the
other hand is found by those that sought Him not, appears openly among those
who asked not for Him, and all the day long stretches forth His hands to an
unbelieving and gainsaying people, calls those who resist and stand afar off,
draws men against their will to salvation, takes away from those who want to
sin the faculty of carrying out their desire, in His goodness stands in the
way of those who are rushing into wickedness. But who can easily see how it is
that the completion of our salvation is assigned to our own will, of which it
is said: "If ye be willing, and hearken unto Me, ye shall eat the good things
of the land,"(5) and how it is "not of him that willeth or runneth, but of God
that hath mercy?"(6) What too is this, that God "will render to every man
according to his works;"(7) and "it is God who worketh in you both to will and
to do, of His good pleasure;"(8) and "this is not of yourselves but it is the
gift of God: not of works, that no man may boast?"(9) What is this too which
is said: "Draw near to the Lord, and He will draw near to you,"(10) and what
He says elsewhere: "No man cometh unto Me except the Father who sent Me draw
Him?"(11) What is it that we find: "Make straight paths for your feet and
direct your ways,"(12) and what is it that we say in our prayers: "Direct my
way in Thy sight," and "establish my goings in Thy paths, that my footsteps be
not moved?"(13) What is it again that we are admonished: "Make you a new heart
and a new spirit,"(14) and what is this which is promised to us: "I will
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give them one heart and will put a new spirit within them:" and "I will take
away the stony heart from their flesh and will give them an heart of flesh
that they may walk in Thy statutes and keep My judgments?"(1) What is it that
the Lord commands, where He says: "Wash thine heart of iniquity, O Jerusalem,
that thou mayest be saved,"(2) and what is it that the prophet asks for from
the Lord, when he says "Create in me a clean heart, O God," and again: "Thou
shalt wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow?"(3) What is it that is said to
us: "Enlighten yourselves with the light of knowledge;"(4) and this which is
said of God: "Who teacheth man knowledge;"(5) and: "the Lord enlightens the
blind,"(6) or at any rate this, which we say in our prayers with the prophet:
"Lighten mine eyes that I sleep not in death,"(7) unless m all these there is
a declaration of the grace of God and the freedom of our will, because even of
his own motion a man can be led to the quest of virtue, but always stands in
need of the help of the Lord? For neither does anyone enjoy good health
whenever he will, nor is he at his own will and pleasure set free from disease
and sickness. But what good is it to have desired the blessing of health,
unless God, who grants us the enjoyments of life itself, grant also vigorous
and sound health? But that it may be still clearer that through the excellence
of nature which is granted by the goodness of the Creator, sometimes first
beginnings of a good will arise, which however cannot attain to the complete
performance of what is good unless it is guided by the Lord, the Apostle bears
witness and says: "For to will is present with me, but to perform what is good
I find not."(8)
CHAPTER X.
On the weakness of free will.
For Holy Scripture supports the freedom of the will where it says: "Keep
thy heart with all diligence,"(9) but the Apostle indicates its weakness by
saying "The Lord keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus."(10) David
asserts the power of free will, where he says "I have inclined my heart to do
Thy righteous acts,"(11) but the same man in like manner teaches us its
weakness, by praying and saying, "Incline my heart unto Thy testimonies and
not to covetousness:"(12) Solomon also: "The Lord incline our hearts unto
Himself that we may walk in all His ways and keep His commandments, and
ordinances and judgments."(13) The Psalmist denotes the power of our will,
where he says: "Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips that they speak no
guile,"(14) our prayer testifies to its weakness, when we say: "O Lord, set a
watch before my mouth, and keep the door of my lips."(15) The importance of
our will is maintained by the Lord, when we find "Break the chains of thy
neck, O captive daughter of Zion:"(16) of its weakness the prophet sings, when
he says: "The Lord looseth them that are bound:" and "Thou hast broken my
chains: To Thee will I offer the sacrifice of praise."(17) We hear in the
gospel the Lord summoning us to come speedily to Him by our free will: "Come
unto Me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will refresh you,"(18)
but the same Lord testifies to its weakness, by saying: "No man can come unto
Me except the Father which sent Me draw him."(19) The Apostle indicates our
free will by saying: "So run that ye may obtain:"(20) but to its weakness John
Baptist bears witness where he says: "No man can receive anything of himself,
except it be given him from above."(21) We are commanded to keep our souls
with all care, when the Prophet says: "Keep your souls,"(22) but by the same
spirit another Prophet proclaims: "Except the Lord keep the city, the watchman
waketh but in vain."(23) The Apostle writing to the Philippians, to show that
their will is free, says "Work out your own salvation with fear and
trembling," but to point out its weakness, he adds: "For it is God that
worketh in you both to will and to do of His good pleasure."(24)
CHAPTER XI.
Whether the grace of God precedes or follows our good will.
And so these are somehow mixed up and indiscriminately confused, so that
among many persons, which depends on the other is involved in great
questionings, i.e., does God have compassion upon us because we have shown the
beginning of a good will, or does the beginning of a good will follow because
God has had compassion upon us? For many believing each of these and asserting
them more widely than is right are entangled in all kinds of opposite errors.
For if we say that the beginning of free will is in our own power, what
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about Paul the persecutor, what about Matthew the publican, of whom the one
was drawn to salvation while eager for bloodshed and the punishment of the
innocent, the other for violence and rapine? But if we say that the beginning
of our free will is always due to the inspiration of the grace of God, what
about the faith of Zaccheus, or what are we to say of the goodness of the
thief on the cross, who by their own desires brought violence to bear on the
kingdom of heaven and so prevented the special leadings of their vocation? But
if we attribute the performance of virtuous acts, and the execution of God's
commands to our own will, how do we pray: "Strengthen, O God, what Thou hast
wrought in us;" and "The work of our hands stablish Thou upon us?"(1) We know
that Balaam was brought to curse Israel, but we see that when he wished to
curse he was not permitted to. Abimelech is preserved from touching Rebecca
and so sinning against God. Joseph is sold by the envy of his brethren, in
order to bring about the descent of the children of Israel into Egypt, and
that while they were contemplating the death of their brother provision might
be made for them against the famine to come: as Joseph shows when he makes
himSelf known to his brethren and says: "Fear not, neither let it be grievous
unto you that ye sold me into these parts: for for your salvation God sent me
before you;" and below: "For God sent me before that ye might be preserved
upon the earth and might have food whereby to live. Not by your design was I
sent but by the will of God, who has made me a father to Pharaoh and lord of
all his house, and chief over all the land of Egypt." And when his brethren
were alarmed after the death of his father, he removed their suspicions and
terror by saying: "Fear not: Can ye resist the will of God? You imagined evil
against me but God turned it into good, that He might exalt me, as ye see at
the present time, that He might save much people."(2) And that this was
brought about providentially the blessed David likewise declared saying in the
hundred and fourth Psalm: "And He called for a dearth upon the land: and brake
all the staff of bread. He sent a man before them: Joseph was sold for a
slave."(3) These two then; viz., the grace of God and free will seem opposed
to each other, but really are in harmony, and we gather from the system of
goodness that we ought to have both alike, lest if we withdraw one of them
from man, we may seem to have broken the rule of the Church's faith: for when
God sees us inclined to will what is good, He meets, guides, and strengthens
us: for "At the voice of thy cry, as soon as He shall hear, He will answer
thee;" and: "Call upon Me," He says, "in the day of tribulation and I will
deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify Me."(4) And again, if He finds that we
are unwilling or have grown cold, He stirs our hearts with salutary
exhortations, by which a good will is either renewed or formed in us.
CHAPTER XII.
That a good will should not always be attributed to grace, nor
always to man himself.
For we should not hold that God made man such that he can never will or be
capable of what is good: or else He has not granted him a free will, if He has
suffered him only to will or be capable of evil, but neither to will or be
capable of what is good of himself. And, in this case how will that first
statement of the Lord made about men after the fall stand: "Behold, Adam is
become as one of us, knowing good and evil?"(5) For we cannot think that
before, he was such as to be altogether ignorant of good. Otherwise we should
have to admit that he was formed like some irrational and insensate beast:
which is sufficiently absurd and altogether alien from the Catholic faith.
Moreover as the wisest Solomon says: "God made man upright," i.e., always to
enjoy the knowledge of good only, "But they have sought out many
imaginations,"(6) for they came, as has been said, to know good and evil. Adam
therefore after the fall conceived a knowledge of evil which he had not
previously, but did not lose the knowledge of good which he had before.
Finally the Apostle's words very clearly show that mankind did not lose after
the fall of Adam the knowledge of good: as he says: "For when the Gentiles,
which have not the law, do by nature the things of the law, these, though they
have not the law, are a law to themselves, as they show the work of the law
written in their hearts, their conscience bearing witness to these, and their
thoughts within them either accusing or else excusing them, in the day in
which God shall judge the secrets of men."(7) And with the same meaning the
Lord rebukes by the prophet the unnatural but freely chosen blindness of the
Jews, which they by their obstinacy brought upon themselves, saying: "Hear ye
deaf, and ye blind, behold that you may see.
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Who is deaf but My servant? and blind, but he to whom I have sent My
messengers?"(1) And that no one might ascribe this blindness of theirs to
nature instead of to their own will, elsewhere He says: "Bring forth the
people that are blind and have eyes: that are deaf and have ears;" and again:
"having eyes, but ye see not; and ears, but ye hear not."(2) The Lord also
says in the gospel: "Because seeing they see not, and hearing they hear not
neither do they understand."(3) And in them is fulfilled the prophecy of
Isaiah which says: "Hearing ye shall hear and shall not understand: and seeing
ye shall see and shall not see. For the heart of this people is waxed fat, and
their ears are dull of hearing: and they have closed their eyes, lest they
should see with their eyes and hear with their ears and understand with their
heart, and be turned and I should heal them."(4) Finally in order to denote
that the possibility of good was in them, in chiding the Pharisees, He says:
"But why of your own selves do ye not judge what is right?"(5) And this he
certainly would not have said to them, unless He knew that by their natural
judgment they could discern what was fair. Wherefore we must take care not to
refer all the merits of the saints to the Lord in such a way as to ascribe
nothing but what is evil and perverse to human nature: in doing which we are
confuted by the evidence of the most wise Solomon, or rather of the Lord
Himself, Whose words these are; for when the building of the Temple was
finished and he was praying, he spoke as follows: "And David my father would
have built a house to the name of the Lord God of Israel: and the Lord said to
David my father: Whereas thou hast thought in thine heart to build a house to
My name, thou hast well done in having this same thing in thy mind.
Nevertheless thou shall not build a house to My name."(6) This thought then
and this purpose of king David, are we to call it good and from God or bad and
from man? For if that thought was good and from God, why did He by whom it was
inspired refuse that it should be carried into effect? But if it is bad and
from man, why is it praised by the Lord? It remains then that we must take it
as good and from man. And in the same way we can take our own thoughts today.
For it was not given only to David to think what is good of himself, nor is it
denied to us naturally to think or imagine anything that is good. It cannot
then be doubted that there are by nature some seeds of goodness in every soul
implanted by the kindness of the Creator: but unless these are quickened by
the assistance of God, they will not be able to attain to an increase of
perfection, for, as the blessed Apostle says: "Neither is he that planteth
anything nor he that watereth, but God that giveth the increase."(7) But that
freedom of the will is to some degree in a man's own power is very clearly
taught in the book termed the Pastor,(8) where two angels are said to be
attached to each one of us, i.e., a good and a bad one, while it lies at a
man's own option to choose which to follow. And therefore the will always
remains free in man, and can either neglect or delight in the grace of God.
For the Apostle would not have commanded saying: "Work out your own salvation
with fear and trembling," had he not known that it could be advanced or
neglected by us. But that men might not fancy that they had no need of Divine
aid for the work of Salvation, he subjoins: "For it is God that worketh in you
both to will and to do, of His good pleasure."(9) And therefore he warns
Timothy and says: "Neglect not the grace of God which is in thee;" and again:
"For which cause I exhort thee to stir up the grace of God which is in
thee."(10) Hence also in writing to the Corinthians he exhorts and warns them
not through their unfruitful works to show themselves unworthy of the grace of
God, saying: "And we helping, exhort you that ye receive not the grace of God
in vain:"(11) for the reception of saving grace was of no profit to Simon
doubtless because he had received it in vain; for he would not obey the
command of the blessed Peter who said: "Repent of thine iniquity, and pray God
if haply the thoughts of thine heart may be forgiven thee; for I perceive that
thou art in the gall of bitterness and the bonds of iniquity."(12) It prevents
therefore the will of man, for it is said: "My God will prevent me with His
mercy;"(13) and again when God waits and for our good delays, that He may put
our desires to the test, our will precedes, for it is said: "And in the
morning my prayer shall prevent Thee;" and again: "I prevented the dawning of
the day and cried;" and: "Mine eyes have prevented the morning."(14) For He
calls and invites us, when He says: "All the day long I stretched forth My
hands to a disobedient and gainsaying people;"(15) and He is invited by us
when we say to Him: "All the day long I have stretched forth My hands unto
Thee"(16) He waits for us, when it is said by the prophet: "Wherefore the Lord
waiteth to have compassion upon
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us;"(1) and He is waited for by us, when we say: "I waited patiently for the
Lord, and He inclined unto me;" and: "I have waited for thy salvation, O
Lord."(2) He strengthens us when He says: "And I have chastised them, and
strengthened their arms; and they have imagined evil against me;"(3) and He
exhorts us to strengthen ourselves when He says: "Strengthen ye the weak
hands, and make strong the feeble knees."(4) Jesus cries: "If any man thirst
let him come unto Me and drink;"(5) the prophet also cries to Him: "I have
laboured with crying, my jaws are become hoarse: mine eyes have failed, whilst
I hope in my God."(6) The Lord seeks us, when He says: "I sought and there was
no man. I called, and there was none to answer;"(7) and He Himself is sought
by the bride who mourns with tears: "I sought on my bed by night Him whom my
soul loved: I sought Him and found Him not; I called Him, and He gave me no
answer."(8)
CHAPTER XIII.
How human efforts cannot be set against the grace of God.
And so the grace of God always co-operates with our will for its
advantage, and in all things assists, protects, and defends it, in such a way
as sometimes even to require and look for some efforts of good will from it
that it may not appear to confer its gifts on one who is asleep or relaxed in
sluggish ease, as it seeks opportunities to show that as the torpor of man's
sluggishness is shaken off its bounty is not unreasonable, when it bestows it
on account of some desire and efforts to gain it. And none the less does God's
grace continue to be free grace while in return for some small and trivial
efforts it bestows with priceless bounty such glory of immortality, and such
gifts of eternal bliss. For because the faith of the thief on the cross came
as the first thing, no one would say that therefore the blessed abode of
Paradise was not promised to him as a free gift, nor could we hold that it was
the penitence of King David's single word which he uttered: "I have sinned
against the Lord," and not rather the mercy of God which removed those two
grievous sins of his, so that it was vouchsafed to him to hear from the
prophet Nathan: "The Lord also hath put away thine iniquity: thou shalt not
die."(9) The fact then that he added murder to adultery, was certainly due to
free will: but that he was reproved by the prophet, this was the grace of
Divine Compassion. Again it was his own doing that he was humbled and
acknowledged his guilt; but that in a very short interval of time he was
granted pardon for such sins, this was the gift of the merciful Lord. And what
shall we say of this brief confession and of the incomparable infinity of
Divine reward, when it is easy to see what the blessed Apostle, as he fixes
his gaze on the greatness of future remuneration, announced on those countless
persecutions of his? "for," says he, "our light affliction which is but for a
moment worketh in us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory,"(10) of
which elsewhere he constantly affirms, saying that "the sufferings of this
present time are not worthy to be compared with the future glory which shall
be revealed in us."(11) However much then human weakness may strive, it cannot
come up to the future reward, nor by its efforts so take off from Divine grace
that it should not always remain a free gift. And therefore the aforesaid
teacher of the Gentiles, though he bears his witness that he had obtained the
grade of the Apostolate by the grace of God, saying: "By the grace of God I am
what I am," yet also declares that he himself had corresponded to Divine
Grace, where he says: "And His Grace in me was not in vain; but I laboured
more abundantly than they all: and yet not I, but the Grace of God with
me."(12) For when he says: "I laboured," he shows the effort of his own will;
when he says: "yet not I, but the grace of God," he points out the value of
Divine protection; when he says: "with me," he affirms that it cooperates with
him when he was not idle or careless, but working and making an effort.
CHAPTER XIV.
How God makes trial of the strength of man's will by means
of his temptations.
And this too we read that the Divine righteousness provided for in the
case of Job His well tried athlete, when the devil had challenged him to
single combat. For if he had advanced against his foe, not with his own
strength, but solely with the protection of God's grace; and, supported only
by Divine aid without any virtue of patience on his own part, had borne that
manifold weight of temptations and losses, contrived with all the cruelty of
his foe, how would the devil have repeated with some justice
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that slanderous speech which he had previously uttered: "Doth Job serve God
for nought? Hast Thou not hedged him in, and all his substance round about?
but take away thine hand," i.e., allow him to fight with me in his own
strength, "and he will curse Thee to Thy face."(1) But as after the struggle
the slanderous foe dare not give vent to any such murmur as this, he admired
that he was vanquished by his strength and not by that of God; although too we
must not hold that the grace of God was altogether wanting to him, which gave
to the tempter a power of tempting in proportion to that which it knew that he
had of resisting, without protecting him from his attacks in such a way as to
leave no room for human virtue, but only providing for this; viz., that the
most fierce foe should not drive him out of his mind and overwhelm him when
weakened, with unequal thoughts and in an unfair contest. But that the Lord is
sometimes wont to tempt our faith that it maybe made stronger and more
glorious, we are taught by the example of the centurion in the gospel, in
whose case though the Lord knew that He would cure his servant by the power of
His word, yet He chose to offer His bodily presence, saying: "I will come and
heal him:" but when the centurion overcame this offer of His by the ardour of
still more fervent faith, and said: "Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldest
come under my roof: but speak the word only and my servant shall be healed,"
the Lord marvelled at him and praised him, and put him before all those of the
people of Israel who had believed, saying: "Verily, I say unto you, I have not
found so great faith in Israel."(2) For there would have been no ground for
praise or merit, if Christ had only preferred in him what He Himself had
given. And this searching trial of faith we read that the Divine righteousness
brought about also in the case of the grandest of the patriarchs; where it is
said: "And it came to pass after these things that God did tempt Abraham."(3)
For the Divine righteousness wished to try not that faith with which the Lord
had inspired him, but that which when called and enlightened by the Lord he
could show forth by his own free will. Wherefore the firmness of his faith was
not without reason proved, and when the grace of God, which had for a while
left him to prove him, came to his aid, it was said: "Lay not thine hand on
the lad, and do nothing unto him: for now I know that thou fearest the Lord,
and for my sake hast not spared thy beloved son."(4) And that this kind of
temptation can befall us, for the sake of proving us, is sufficiently clearly
foretold by the giver of the Law in Deuteronomy: "If there rise in the midst
of you a prophet or one that saith he hath seen a dream, and foretell a sign
and wonder; and that come to pass which he spoke, and he say to thee: Let us
go and serve strange gods which ye know not, thou shalt not hear the words of
that prophet or dreamer; for the Lord your God surely trieth thee, whether
thou lovest Him with all thine heart, and keepest His Commandments, or no."(5)
What then follows? When God has permitted that prophet or dreamer to arise,
must we hold that He will protect those whose faith He is purposing to try, in
such a way as to leave no place for their own free will, where they can fight
with the tempter with their own strength? And why is it necessary for them
even to be tried if He knows them to be so weak and feeble as not to be able
by their own power to resist the tempter? But certainly the Divine
righteousness would not have permitted them to be tempted, unless it knew that
there was within them an equal power of resistance, by which they could by an
equitable judgment be found in either result either guilty or worthy of
praise. To the same effect also is this which the Apostle says: "Therefore let
him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall. There hath no
temptation taken you but such as is common to man. But God is faithful, who
will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able, but will with the
temptation make also a way of escape that ye may be able to bear it."(6) For
when he says "Let him that standeth take heed lest he fall" he sets free will
on its guard, as he certainly knew that, after grace had been received, it
could either stand by its exertions or fall through carelessness. But when he
adds: "there hath no temptation taken you but what is common to man" he chides
their weakness and the frailty of their heart that is not yet strengthened, as
they could not yet resist the attacks of the hosts of spiritual wickedness,
against which he knew that he and those who were perfect daily fought; of
which also he says to the Ephesians: "For we wrestle not against flesh and
blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the world-rulers of
this darkness, against spiritual wickedness in heavenly places."(7) But when
he subjoins: "But God is faithful who will not suffer you to be tempted above
that ye are able," he certainly is not hoping that the Lord will not suffer
them to be tempted, but that they may not be tempted above what they are able
to bear. For the one shows the power of man's will,
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the other denotes the grace of the Lord who moderates the violence of
temptations. In all these phrases then there is proof that Divine grace ever
stirs up the will of man, not so as to protect and defend it in all things in
such a way as to cause it not to fight by its own efforts against its
spiritual adversaries, the victor over whom may set it down to God's grace,
and the vanquished to his own weakness, and thus learn that his hope is always
not in his own courage but in the Divine assistance, and that he must ever fly
to his Protector. And to prove this not by our own conjecture but by still
clearer passages of Holy Scripture let us consider what we read in Joshuah the
son of Nun: "The Lord," it says, "left these nations and would not destroy
them, that by them He might try Israel, whether they would keep the
commandments of the Lord their God, and that they might learn to fight with
their enemies."(1) And if we may illustrate the incomparable mercy of our
Creator from something earthly, not as being equal in kindness, but as an
illustration of mercy: if a tender and anxious nurse carries an infant in her
bosom for a long time in order sometime to teach it to walk, and first allows
it to crawl, then supports it that by the aid of her right hand it may lean on
its alternate steps, presently leaves it for a little and if she sees it
tottering at all, catches hold of it, and grabs at it when falling, when down
picks it up, and either shields it from a fall, or allows it to fall lightly,
and sets it up again after a tumble, but when she has brought it up to boyhood
or the strength of youth or early manhood, lays upon it some burdens or
labours by which it may be not overwhelmed but exercised, and allows it to vie
with those of its own age; how much more does the heavenly Father of all know
whom to carry in the bosom of His grace, whom to train to virtue in His sight
by the exercise of free will, and yet He helps him in his efforts, hears him
when he calls, leaves him not when he seeks Him, and sometimes snatches him
from peril even without his knowing it.
CHAPTER XV.
Of the manifold grace of men's calls.
And by this it is clearly shown that God's "judgments are inscrutable and
His ways past finding out,"(2) by which He draws mankind to salvation. And
this too we can prove by the instances of calls in the gospels. For He chose
Andrew and Peter and the rest of the apostles by the free compassion of His
grace when they were thinking nothing of their healing and salvation.
Zacchaeus, when in his faithfulness he was struggling to see the Lord, and
making up for his littleness of stature by the height of the sycamore tree, He
not only received, but actually honoured by the blessing of His dwelling with
him. Paul even against his will and resisting He drew to Him. Another He
charged to cleave to Him so closely that when he asked for the shortest
possible delay in order to bury his father He did not grant it. To Cornelius
when constantly attending to prayers and alms the way of salvation was shown
by way of recompense, and by the visitation of an angel he was bidden to
summon Peter, and learn from him the words of salvation, whereby he might be
saved with all his. And so the manifold wisdom of God grants with manifold and
inscrutable kindness salvation to men; and imparts to each one according to
his capacity the grace of His bounty, so that He wills to grant His healing
not according to the uniform power of His Majesty but according to the measure
of the faith in which He finds each one, or as He Himself has imparted it to
each one. For when one believed that for the cure of his leprosy the will of
Christ alone was sufficient He healed him by the simple consent of His will,
saying: "I will, be thou clean."(3) When another prayed that He would come and
raise his dead daughter by laying His hands on her, He entered his house as he
had hoped, and granted what was asked of Him. When another believed that what
was essential for his salvation depended on His command, and answered: "Speak
the word only, and my servant shall be healed,"(4) He restored to their former
strength the limbs that were relaxed, by the power of a word, saying: "Go thy
way, and as thou hast believed so be it unto thee."(5) To others hoping for
restoration from the touch of His hem, He granted rich gifts of healing. To
some, when asked, He bestowed remedies for their diseases. To others He
afforded the means of healing unasked: others He urged on to hope, saying:
"Willest thou to be made whole?"(6) to others when they were without hope He
brought help spontaneously. The desires of some He searched out before
satisfying their wants, saying: "What will ye that I should do for you?"(7) To
another who knew not the way to obtain what he desired, He showed it in His
kindness, saying: "If thou believest thou shalt see the glory of God."(8)
Among some so richly did He pour
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forth the mighty works of His cures that of them the Evangelist says' "And He
healed all their sick."(1)But among others the unfathomable depth of Christ's
beneficence was so stopped up, that it was said: "And Jesus could do there no
mighty works because of their unbelief."(2) And so the bounty of God is
actually shaped according to the capacity of man's faith, so that to one it is
said:" According to thy faith be it unto thee:"(3) and to another: "Go thy
way, and as thou hast believed so be it unto thee;"(4) to another "Be it unto
thee according as thou wilt,"(5) and again to another: "Thy faith hath made
thee whole."(6)
CHAPTER XVI.
Of the Face of God; to the effect that it transcends the
narrow limits of human faith.
BUT let no one imagine that we have brought forward these instances to try
to make out that the chief share in our salvation rests with our faith,
according to the profane notion of some who attribute everything to free will
and lay down that the grace of God is dispensed in accordance with the desert
of each man: but we plainly assert our unconditional opinion that the grace of
God is superabounding, and sometimes overflows the narrow limits of man's lack
of faith. And this, as we remember, happened in the case of the ruler in the
gospel, who, as he believed that it was an easier thing for his son to be
cured when sick than to be raised when dead, implored the Lord to come at
once, saying: "Lord, come down ere my child die;" and though Christ reproved
his lack of faith with these words: "Except ye see signs and wonders ye will
not believe," yet He did not manifest the grace of His Divinity in proportion
to the weakness of his faith, nor did He expell the deadly disease of the
fever by His bodily presence, as the man believed he would, but by the word of
His power, saying: "Go thy way, thy son liveth."(7) And we read also that the
Lord poured forth this superabundance of grace in the case of the cure of the
paralytic, when, though he only asked for the healing of the weakness by which
his body was enervated, He first brought health to the soul by sating: "Son,
be of good cheer, thy sins be forgiven thee." After which, when the scribes
did not believe that He could forgive men's sins, in order to confound their
incredulity, He set free by the power of His word the man's limb, and put an
end to his disease of paralysis, by saying: "Why think ye evil in. your
hearts? Whether is easier to say, thy sins be forgiven thee, or to say, arise
and walk? But that ye may know that the Son of man hath power on earth to
forgive sins, then saith He to the sick of the palsy: Arise, take up thy bed,
and go unto thine house."(8) And in the same way in the case of the man who
had been lying for thirty-eight years near the edge of the pool, and hoping
for a cure from the moving of the water, He showed the princely character of
His bounty unasked. For when in His wish to arouse him for the saving remedy,
He had said to him: "wiliest thou to be made whole," and when the man
complained of his lack of human assistance and said: "I have no man to put me
into the pool when the water is troubled," the Lord in His pity granted pardon
to his unbelief and ignorance, and restored him to his former health, not in
the way which he expected, but in the way which He Himself willed, saying:
"Arise, take up thy bed and go unto thine house."(9) And what wonder if these
acts are told of the Lord's power, when Divine grace has actually wrought
similar works by means of His servants! For when Peter and John were entering
the temple, when the man who was lame from his mother's womb and had no idea
how to walk, asked an alms, they gave him not the miserable coppers which the
sick man asked for, but the power to walk, and when he was only expecting the
smallest of gifts to console him, enriched him with the prize of unlooked for
health, as Peter said: "Silver and gold have I none: but such as I have, give
I unto thee. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk."(10)
CHAPTER XVII.
Of the inscrutable providence of God.
BY those instances then which we have brought forward from the gospel
records we can very clearly perceive that God brings salvation to mankind in
diverse and innumerable methods and inscrutable ways, and that He stirs up the
course of some, who are already wanting it, and thirsting for it, to greater
zeal, while He forces some even against their will, and resisting. And that at
one time He gives his assistance for the fulfilment of those things which he
sees that we desire for our good, while at another time He puts into us the
very beginnings of holy desire, and grants both the commencement of a good
work and perseverance in it. Hence it comes that in our
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prayers we proclaim God as not only our Protector and Saviour, but actually as
our Helper and Sponsor. For whereas He first calls us to Him, and while we are
still ignorant and unwilling, draws us towards salvation, He is our Protector
and Saviour, but whereas when we are already striving, He is wont to bring us
help, and to receive and defend those who fly to Him for refuge, He is termed
our Sponsor and Refuge. Finally the blessed Apostle when revolving in his mind
this manifold bounty of God's providence, as he sees that he has fallen into
some vast and boundless ocean of God's goodness, exclaims: "O the depth of the
riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How inscrutable are the judgments
of God and His ways past finding out! For who hath known the mind of the
Lord?"(1) Whoever then imagines that he can by human reason fathom the depths
of that inconceivable abyss, will be trying to explain away the astonishment
at that knowledge, at which that great and mighty teacher of the gentiles was
awed. For if a man thinks that he can either conceive in his mind or discuss
exhaustively the dispensation of God whereby He works salvation in men, he
certainly impugns the truth of the Apostle's words and asserts with profane
audacity that His judgments can be scrutinized, and His ways searched out.
This providence and love of God therefore, which the Lord in His unwearied
goodness vouchsafes to show us, He compares to the tenderest heart of a kind
mother, as He wishes to express it by a figure of human affection, and finds
in His creatures no such feeling of love, to which he could better compare it.
And He uses this example, because nothing dearer can be found in human nature,
saying: "Can a mother forget her child, that she should not have compassion on
the son of her womb?" But not content with this comparison He at once goes
beyond it, and subjoins these words: "And though she may forget, yet will not
I forget thee."(2)
CHAPTER XVIII.
The decision of the fathers that free will is not equal to save
a man.
AND from this it is clearly gathered by those who, led not by chattering
words but by experience, measure the magnitude of grace, and the paltry limits
of man's will, that "the race is not to the swift nor the battle to the
strong, nor food to the wise, nor riches to the prudent, nor grace to the
learned," but that "all these worketh that one and the selfsame Spirit,
dividing to every man severally as He will."(8) And therefore it is proved by
no doubtful faith but by experience which can (so to speak) be laid hold of,
that God the Father of all things worketh indifferently all things in all, as
the Apostle says, like some most kind father and most benign physician; and
that now He puts into us the very beginnings of salvation, and gives to each
the zeal of his free will; and now grants the carrying out of the work, and
the perfecting of goodness; and now saves men, even against their will and
without their knowledge, from ruin that is close at hand, and a headlong fall;
and now affords them occasions and opportunities of salvation, and wards off
headlong and violent attacks from purposes that would bring death; and assists
some who are already willing and running, while He draws others who are
unwilling and resisting, and forces them to a good will. But that, when we do
not always resist or remain persistently unwilling, everything is granted to
us by God, and that the main share in our salvation is to be ascribed not to
the merit of our own works but to heavenly grace, we are thus taught by the
words of the Lord Himself: "And you shall remember your ways and all your
wicked doings with which you have been defiled; and you shall be displeased
with yourselves in your own sight for all your wicked deeds which you have
committed. And you shall know that I am the Lord, when I shall have done well
by you for My own name's sake, not according to your evil ways, nor according
to your wicked deeds, O house of Israel."(4) And therefore it is laid down by
all the Catholic fathers who have taught perfection of heart not by empty
disputes of words, but in deed and act, that the first stage in the Divine
gift is for each man to be inflamed with the desire of everything that is
good, but in such a way that the choice of free will is open to either side:
and that the second stage in Divine grace is for the aforesaid practices of
virtue to be able to be performed, but in such a way that the possibilities of
the will are not destroyed: the third stage also belongs to the gifts of God,
so that it may be held by the persistence of the goodness already acquired,
and in such a way that the liberty may not be surrendered and experience
bondage. For the God of all must be held to work in all, so as to incite,
protect, and strengthen, but not to take away the freedom of the will which He
Himself has once given. If however any more subtle
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inference of man's argumentation and reasoning seems opposed to this
interpretation, it should be avoided rather than brought forward to the
destruction of the faith (for we gain not faith from understanding, but
understanding from faith, as it is written: "Except ye believe, ye will not
understand"(1)) for how God works all things in us and yet everything can be
ascribed to free will, cannot be fully grasped by the mind and reason of man.
Strengthened by this food the blessed Chaeremon prevented us from feeling
the toil of so difficult a journey.