History of the Monks of Egypt

First, then, as it were the true foundation of our work, let us take, as an example of all good men, John, who indeed alone would sufficiently and more than sufficiently suffice to raise up religious and God-devoted minds to the summit of virtues, and to stir them on to the heights of perfection. For we saw this man in the regions of the Thebaid, in the desert that lies near the city of Lycus, dwelling in a certain rock of a steep mountain. The ascent to him was difficult, the entrance of his monastery blocked and shut, so that from the fortieth year of his life up to the ninetieth, which he then held when we saw him, no one had entered his monastery. But to those who came he would show himself to be seen through a window, and from there he would give them, either the word of God for edification, or, if there were some need of consolation, answers.

Yet no woman ever went there, nor even came within sight of him; and men too came rarely, and only at certain fixed times. He allowed, indeed, a guest-cell to be built outside, in which those coming from distant regions might rest a little; but he himself, within, alone, given over to God alone, ceased neither by day nor by night from converse with God and from prayer, pursuing with the whole purity of his mind that divine thing which is above every mind. For the more he withdrew himself from human cares and conversations, the closer and nearer God was to him. He had, in fact, advanced to such sincerity of mind, that he obtained from the Lord not only knowledge of things present, but merited also foreknowledge of things to come.

For the Lord clearly bestowed on him the grace of prophecy: so that not only to his fellow-citizens and the people of the province, if perchance they inquired, did he foretell the future, but also to the Emperor Theodosius he often foretold both what outcome his wars would have, and by what means he would obtain victory over the tyrants, and how many incursions of barbarian nations he was going to suffer.

At a certain time also, when the nation of the Ethiopians was making raids upon the Roman soldiery around Cyrene (which is the first city of the Thebaid on the side of Ethiopia), and had inflicted very great slaughter on our men, and had carried off plunder, a Roman commander came to him, fearing to engage with them, because his own number of soldiers was small, and the enemy against him was an innumerable multitude; John, appointing a fixed day, said: "Go forth in safety, for on the day I have named you shall lay the enemy low, and take spoils, and recover the plunder." And when this had been fulfilled, he also foretold that the commander would become dear and acceptable to the Emperor Augustus himself. But this gift of prophecy was so regarded by him, that he ascribed it rather to the merit of those who inquired than to his own. For he used to say that these things were foretold by the Lord not for his own sake, but for the sake of those who heard.

Another thing also, greatly to be marveled at, the Lord showed through him. A certain tribune, going forth to lead his soldiers, came to him, and began to beseech him to permit his wife to come to see him, for he said she had endured many dangers for this alone, that she might see his face. Then he denied that it had ever been his custom to look upon women, and especially since he had shut himself up in the monastery of that rock. The tribune persisted in beseeching him, and began to affirm that unless she should see him, she would without doubt perish from excessive sorrow.

And when he besought the same thing again and repeatedly, and affirmed that it would be the cause of his wife's death, and that from thence would come destruction whence she had hoped for salvation: the elder, considering both his faith and his importunity, said: "Go; your wife shall see me this night; yet she shall not come here, but shall remain in her own house, and in her own bed." After these words the man went up, turning over in his heart the ambiguity of the answer. And when he had reported this also to his wife, the woman likewise was troubled no less by the uncertainty of the words. But when the time of sleep came, the man of God appeared to her in a vision, and standing by the woman said: "Great is your faith, O woman, and therefore I have come to satisfy your desire: yet I warn you, not to desire the bodily face of the servants of God, but to contemplate their deeds and acts through the spirit.

For it is the spirit that gives life, for the flesh profits nothing. I, however, not as a just man, nor as a prophet, as you suppose, but for your faith have interceded for you before the Lord, and He has granted you health from all the illnesses which you suffer in your body. You shall, therefore, from now be well, both you and your husband, and your whole household shall be blessed. But be mindful also of the benefit bestowed upon you by God, and fear the Lord always, and seek nothing beyond what is due to your station. Let this suffice you, then, that you have seen me in your sleep, and seek no more." And the woman, waking, told her husband what she had seen and heard, and even described the appearance and countenance of the man, and all his marks. At which her husband, marveling, returned to the man of God, gives thanks to God; and having received a blessing from him, went on his way in peace.

At another time also, a certain officer in command of soldiers came to him, whose pregnant wife had been left by him in her house. But on that very day on which he had come to blessed John, she, giving birth, was in danger. Then the holy man of God said: "If you knew the gift of God, that a son has been born to you this day, you would give thanks to the Lord. But know that the mother of the child was in danger; yet the Lord will be present, and you shall find her well: hasten, therefore, and return, and you shall find the boy seven days old, and you shall call his name John: let him be reared in your house without any Gentile defilement for seven years; after which, hand him over to monks to be trained in holy and heavenly discipline."

Moreover, to many who came to him, whether provincials or strangers, when the matter required it, he disclosed the hidden things of their hearts, and if by chance any sin had been committed by them in secret, he would rebuke them more secretly, censuring them, and urge them to amendment and repentance. He also foretold whether there would be abundance of the waters of the river Nile, or scarcity. But also if perchance, on account of some offense of men, some plague and chastisement were about to be imposed by God, he likewise forewarned them, and pointed out, if there were some cause for which the punishment was being brought in, what it was. He also bestowed healings and cures of bodies on those who sought them, in such a way that he shunned all boasting on this account. For he would not allow those suffering discomfort to be brought to him, but, blessing oil, would give it, that those anointed with it might be made whole of whatever infirmity held them.

The wife of a certain senator was once struck blind: she besought her husband to lead her to the man of God. When her husband answered her that it was not his custom to see women, she asked that he merely indicate to him the cause of her infirmity, and beg him to make a prayer for her. When her husband had carried the message to him, he, praying and blessing oil, sent it to her. After she had touched her eyes with it for three days, she recovered her sight, and gave thanks to God. But many are his deeds, which it would take long to relate. Wherefore, setting aside for the present those things which we have learned by hearsay, let us come to those which we have seen with our own eyes.

We were seven companions together who came to him: and when we had greeted him, and he had received us with every joy, he addressed each one of us graciously, and was asked by us that he would give us prayer and blessing together (for this is the custom in Egypt, that when brethren have arrived, they immediately bind themselves together in mutual prayer). He asked, therefore, whether any among us was a cleric. And when we all denied it, looking upon each of us, he perceived that there was among us one who held this rank, but wished to conceal it; for he was a deacon: and this, except for one alone who was faithful to him, even his own companions on the journey did not know. For, being about to see such and so great men, out of humility he wished to hide the honor of his rank, that he might be found inferior in order to those to whom he judged himself inferior in merits.

Saint John, therefore, as soon as he saw him—and indeed he was younger than the rest—pointing him out with his finger, said: This man is a deacon. And when he still tried to deny it, taking hold of him with his hand he kissed him, and said: Do not, my son, deny the grace of God, lest for a good thing you incur an evil, and for humility a lie. For a lie is in every way to be guarded against, whether it seem to be uttered for evil or even for good; for every lie is not of God, but, as the Savior says, is of the evil one.

But he, hearing these things, acquiesced, and bore his gentle rebuke with equanimity: and when we had offered prayer to the Lord, after it was finished one of our brethren was very grievously afflicted with a tertian fever, and asked the man of God that he might be cured of it; who said to him: You wish to cast away a thing necessary to you; for just as bodies are washed of their filth by nitre or other such cleansing agents, so are souls purified by weaknesses and other such chastisements. And after he had discoursed to us at length on these matters through mystical teaching, nevertheless, blessing oil, he gave it to him, with which the sick man, anointed, immediately vomited up an entire abundance of bile, and, restored to full health, returned on his own feet to the lodging. After this he ordered the duties of kindness and hospitality toward us to be fulfilled, and care of the body to be taken. And he himself indeed, neglectful of himself, was solicitous for us.

For by now, through continual practice and habitual custom, he could not take food except in the evening, and that but little; for he was wasted away and of a dried-up body from abstinence: his hair and beard, as if from excessive weakness, were sparse and thin, seeing that no sufficient food nourished them, nor any richer humor infused them. For he observed, even then, when, as we said above, he was of ninety years of age, that he took no food prepared by fire.

Therefore, after the duties of hospitality, having returned, he bids us sit down, and only then inquires whence or why we had come, after he had already received us joyfully, and with all gladness as if we were his own children: and when we answered that we had come from Jerusalem to him for the sake of usefulness and profit to our souls, that we might now see with our own eyes those things which formerly report had brought to our hearing (since indeed those things which the eye has seen are wont to cling more tenaciously to the memory than those which the ear has heard), then blessed John, with a most peaceful countenance, and as if smiling, out of the abundance of his joy answered us in this manner: I marvel greatly, he said, sweetest sons, that you have undertaken the labor of so great a journey, since you can see nothing in us worthy of this: for we are humble and lowly men, having nothing in us that ought either to be sought after or admired.

And yet, even if there were something in us according to your opinion, is it such as you read in the prophets of God and the Apostles? Who indeed are for this reason recited in all the churches of God, that examples of life may not be sought by men from far-off and foreign places, but that each may have at home and with himself what he ought to imitate. Wherefore I marvel exceedingly at the intent of your labor and zeal, that for the sake of the profit of your soul you were willing to traverse so many regions, and undergo so many labors, while we are held back thus far by such sloth and idleness that we do not dare even to go beyond our own cells.

Nevertheless, since you think there is something in us from which you ought to profit, this must first be pointed out to you, that this very thing—that you have come to us, and undertaken so great a labor of seeing us—must not have regard to any vainglory, lest each of you should wish not so much to profit toward virtue of soul, as to prefer and boast of himself, because he has seen those who among others are known only by hearsay. They act and think as though they were superior to those to whom they have given something. But there is another kind of vainglory, when someone, arriving at the height of virtue, attributes it not wholly to God, but to his own labors and pursuits: and while he seeks glory from men, he loses that which is from God. Wherefore, little sons, let us flee by every means the vice of vainglory, lest perchance we fall into that fall into which the devil fell. Then, moreover, special diligence must be applied to our heart and thoughts.

For it must be observed, lest any covetousness, any wicked will, any vain desire, and whatever is not according to God, fix its roots in our heart. For from roots of this kind vain and useless thoughts continually spring up, and are so troublesome that they do not cease even while we are praying, nor are ashamed even while we stand in the sight of God, and offer prayers for our salvation; but they seize our mind captive, and while we seem to stand in body at prayer, we wander and are led away in sense and thought through diverse things. If, then, there is anyone who thinks he has renounced the world and the works of the devil, it is not enough to have renounced with the mouth, as though he had left behind possessions and estates, and the other business of the world, unless he has also renounced his own vices, and cast away useless and vain pleasures. For these are the things of which the Apostle says: Vain and harmful desires, which plunge a man into destruction.

This, then, is to have renounced the devil and his works. For the devil, through the occasion of some vice, and through the entrance of a depraved will, creeps into our heart, because vices are on his part, just as virtues are of God. If, therefore, there are vices in our heart, when their prince the devil comes, they give place to him as to their own author, and bring him in as it were to his own possession. And hence it is that hearts of this kind can never have peace, never quiet; but are always disturbed, always held fast, and now are cast down by vain joy, now by useless sadness: for they have within themselves a most evil inhabitant, to whom they have made an entrance to themselves through their passions and vices.

On the other hand, the mind that has truly renounced the world—that is, which has cut off and amputated from itself every vice, and has left no entrance for the devil to come in to itself—which restrains anger, represses fury, puts falsehood to flight, abhors envy, and suffers itself not only not to detract, but not even to think or suspect evil of its neighbor, which counts a brother's joys as its own, and reckons his sadness as its own sadness. The mind, then, which observes these and things like these, opens in itself a place for the Holy Spirit, who, when he has entered and illumined it, causes there to arise ever after joys, ever gladness, ever charity, patience, longsuffering, goodness, and all the fruits of the Spirit. And this is what the Lord said in the Gospel: A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can an evil tree bring forth good fruit. For by its fruits a tree is known.

There are, however, some who seem to have renounced the world, and take no care for the purity of the heart, nor to cut off vices and passions from their soul, and order their manners; but they strive only to see some one of the holy Fathers, and to hear from them some words, which, relating to others, they may boast of having learned from this one or that one, and if by chance, whether by hearing or learning, they have acquired some small amount of knowledge, they immediately wish to become teachers, and to teach not what they have done, but what they have heard and seen, and they despise the rest. They aspire themselves to the priesthood, and strive to plunge themselves into the clergy, not knowing that it is a lesser condemnation if one himself excels in virtues, yet does not dare to teach others, than if one himself is oppressed by passions and vices, and yet teaches others about virtues.

Thus, then, my little sons, we say that the clerical office or priesthood is neither to be shunned in every way, nor again to be sought after in every way, but effort must be given so that vices indeed be driven from us, and virtues of soul be acquired. But it must be left to the judgment of God, whom he wills, and if he wills, to take to himself for ministry or priesthood. For it is not he who has thrust himself forward, but he whom the Lord has taken up, who is approved.

But this is the chief work of a monk, that he offer pure prayer to God, having nothing reprehensible in his conscience, just as the Lord also says in the Gospel: When you shall stand at prayer, forgive your brethren from your hearts, if you have anything against them: for unless you forgive your brethren, neither will your Father who is in heaven forgive you. If therefore we shall have stood before God with a pure heart (as we said above), and free from all those vices and passions which we mentioned above, we shall be able, insofar as it is possible, even to see God, and while praying, to direct the eye of our heart toward him, and to see the invisible with the mind, not with the body: with the understanding of knowledge, not with the sight of the flesh. For let no one think himself able to gaze upon the divine substance as it truly is, so as to fashion for himself in his heart some form or image resembling a bodily image.

Let no form be thought of in God, no circumscription, but a sense and mind which can indeed be perceived, and can touch the mind's affection, yet cannot be comprehended, or described, or fully expressed. And therefore one must approach the Lord with all reverence and fear, and so balance the gaze of the mind upon him, that whatever splendor, brightness, radiance, majesty the human mind can conceive, it should always sense that he is above all these things; and this we have said, provided the mind be pure, and not occupied by any filth of depraved will. And therefore those who seem to have renounced the world and to follow God ought especially to give effort to this, as it is written: Be still, and know that I am the Lord.

If then one shall have known God, as far as is possible for man, then at last he will also grasp the knowledge of the other things that exist, and will recognize the mysteries of God; and the purer the mind is in him, the more things God reveals to him, and shows him his secrets. For he is then made a friend of God, like those of whom the Savior said: I no longer call you servants, but friends; and whatever he shall ask of him, God grants it to him as to a dear friend. The very Angelic powers, too, and all the divine mysteries, love him as a friend of God, and comply with his petitions. And this is he whom neither death nor life, neither Angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor any other creature can separate from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus.

And therefore, dearest ones, since you have chosen this—to please God and to attain to his love—give effort to become strangers to all boasting, to every vice of the soul, to all bodily pleasures. But do not think that bodily pleasures are only those which men of the world enjoy; rather, whatever one who abstains takes with desire, even if it be something cheap and customarily used by those who practice abstinence, must be reckoned among pleasures. Even water itself, or bread, if taken with desire—that is, not to satisfy the necessity of the body, but to satisfy the craving of the soul—this too is reckoned as the vice of pleasure for one who abstains. For one ought to accustom oneself in all things so that the soul be free of vice. Therefore the Lord, wishing to teach the soul to resist its desires and pleasures, said: Enter by the narrow gate, for wide and spacious is the way that leads to death; but narrow and strait is the way that leads to life.

Wide, then, is the way of the soul when it satisfies whatever desire it has: but narrow it is, when it resists its pleasures. Yet a more secluded dwelling and solitary manner of life help greatly in obtaining these things, because sometimes, through the occasion of brothers coming and going frequently, the reins of abstinence and frugality are loosened, and through such occasions one gradually comes into the habit and use of pleasures, and thus sometimes even men already perfect are caught. Therefore David also said: Behold, I have gone far off in flight, and I abode in the wilderness. I waited for him who would save me from faintness of spirit and from the storm.

After the holy John had discoursed to us profitably at length on the vice of boasting, and on very many other matters, he finally added, saying: I will unfold to you also what recently happened among our brethren, so that the preceding examples may render you more cautious. There was a certain monk among us dwelling in this neighboring desert, whose dwelling was a cave: a man of the utmost abstinence, seeking his daily food by the labor of his hands, persisting day and night in prayers, and flourishing in all virtues of the soul. But he, elated by his joyful successes, began to trust as it were in his own progress, and to attribute what he had achieved not wholly to God, but to himself. The tempter, observing this presumption of mind, at once approaches and sets his snares.

For on a certain day, toward evening, he fashions the likeness of a comely woman wandering through the desert, who, as though weary after excessive toil, coming to the door of the monk's cave, feigning exhaustion and fatigue, threw herself within, and, falling at the man's knees, begged that he take pity on her. "Night," she said, "has overtaken me, unhappy woman, hiding in the desert: bid me rest in a corner of your cell, lest perhaps I become prey to the beasts of the night." He, moved at first by a show of pity, received her into the cave, asking what had been the cause of her wandering through the desert. She fashions a cause with great care, and meanwhile interweaves throughout the whole texture of her narrative the poisons of flattery and the venom of enticement, now showing herself pitiable, now even worthy of being defended: with elegance and sweetness of speech she inclines the man's mind, and bends it into affection and enticing love toward herself.

From here, amid ever more flattering conversation, jest and laughter are mixed in; a bold hand, too, under the guise of reverence, is extended toward chin and beard, and then more softly it strokes the neck and smooths the throat. What more? At last she leads the soldier of Christ captive. For at once he began to be disturbed within himself, and to seethe with the waves of lust, in no way mindful of his past labors, in no way of his profession and purpose. He makes a pact with the desire of his heart, and within the secret places of his thoughts he forms a covenant with false pleasure. The fool inclines his sides, and is made like the horse and mule, which have no understanding. And when he was now attempting to enter obscene embraces, she, uttering a most hideous shriek of a dire voice, being but a thin shadow, slipped from the arms that embraced her, and, with most foul mockery, abandoned him too, pursuing empty air with shameful motions.

Then, moreover, a multitude of demons gathered in the air for this very spectacle, with a great shout, raising a mocking laugh, said: "O you who exalted yourself even to heaven, how are you sunk down even to hell?" Learn, then, that he who exalts himself shall be humbled. Then he, made as it were out of his mind, and unable to bear the shame of his deception, was deceived more gravely by himself than he had been deceived by the demons. For whereas he ought to have restored himself, and renewed the struggle, and by satisfaction of himself, by tears and the fruits of humility, blotted out the fault of his former pride, he did not do this, but, despairing of himself (as the Apostle said), gave himself up to all impurity and iniquity. For he returned to secular life, made a prey of demons. For he fled the sight of all the saints, lest anyone should be able to call him back from the precipice by wholesome admonitions.

For if he had wished to give himself back to his former life of abstinence, he would without doubt have recovered both his place and his grace. Now hear what happened also concerning another man, likewise tempted indeed, but with a temptation that did not end in a similar outcome. There was a certain man in this nearby city, leading a most disgraceful life through every kind of crime, so that he was held to be most notorious in wickedness. This man, at length, being touched by the mercy of God, was converted to repentance, and, shutting himself within a certain tomb, washed away the pollutions of his former crimes with fountains of tears, day and night lying prostrate on his face, not even daring to lift his eyes to heaven, nor to utter a sound, nor to name the name of God, but persevering only in groans and weeping, and, as one buried alive, sending forth, as it were, from hell itself, the groaning and moaning of his heart.

And when one week had passed while he was thus disposed, demons come to him at night in the tomb, crying out and saying: "What is this that you are doing, O most impure and most wicked one? After you have been sated with all filthiness and all impurity, do you now wish to come forth chaste and religious? And after you have grown accustomed to crimes, and your strength no longer suffices to wipe out your misdeeds, do you now wish to appear a Christian, and chaste, and penitent? As though indeed any other place could still be given to you, sated in evils, except that one which is owed to you together with us. You are one of us; you cannot now be otherwise. Return, then, rather, return to us: and do not waste the time that remains to you in enjoying pleasure; we are preparing overflowing delights, we are preparing the noblest harlots, and all such things as can restore to you the flower of most pleasing youth.

Why do you wear yourself out with vain and empty torments? Why do you hand yourself over to punishments before the time? For what else will you suffer in hell, but this which you are now procuring for yourself? If punishment delights you, wait a little, and you will find it ready: meanwhile enjoy our gifts, which you have always found sweet and pleasant." While they reproached him with these and many other such things, he lay motionless, not even turning his hearing toward them, nor answering with any word at all. And when they repeated the same things often, and other harsher things, and he was not moved at all, the demons, falling into fury when they saw their words despised, set about beating him, and, having tormented him with many torments, left him half-dead. Yet in so many and such great torments he could not be moved even so much as from the spot where he had lain for the sake of prayer.

The next day certain of his own people, seeking him out, at least out of humanity, found him afflicted with incredible pains, and inquiring the cause, when they had learned it, begged that he allow himself to be carried back to his own home for the sake of care. He refused, and remained in the same place. Then indeed, on the following night also, the demons, returning, tormented him with heavier blows. But not even so would he be moved from the spot, saying it was better to undergo death than to obey the demons any further. Nonetheless, on the third night a multitude of demons gathered, and, rushing upon him without any pity, afflicted him with every pain and torment. And when his body had already failed under the torments, yet his last breath still resisted the command of the demons.

When the wicked ones perceived this, crying out with a great voice, "You have conquered," they said, "you have conquered"; and at once, as though driven off by some power from heaven, they departed headlong, and no longer directed any of their art or wickedness against him. But he himself so advanced in virtues of soul, and was made so adorned in character, and so filled with the power of all divine grace, that this whole region saw him as one fallen, as it were, from heaven, and believed him to be one of the number of Angels, nearly all saying with one voice: This is the change of the right hand of the Most High. How many, by his example, who had already despaired of themselves, returned again to the hope of salvation, and undertook the amendment of themselves which they had before despaired of? How many, by admiration of him, were drawn back from the very depths of the hell of sins, and restored to the character of virtue?

For, he having been so greatly changed, all things seemed possible to all. For not only did the amendment of morals and the assumption of virtues flourish in him, but also very much grace of God was conferred upon him. For the signs and wonders that were worked by him testified how much merit he had with the Lord. Thus humility and conversion furnish the material of all good things: pride and despair are the cause of ruin and of death.

Now, to flee the dangers of falls, and to gain the grace of God, and to attain a clearer knowledge of the divinity itself, a more secluded manner of life, and dwelling in the interior desert, are of the greatest help. This, I think, I can teach you better not so much by words as by the actual facts and examples.

There was a certain monk who dwelt in this desert, which is more interior than the rest. When he had persevered for many years in abstinence, and, advanced in age, had now come near to old age, adorned with the flower of every virtue, and raised to the height of complete continence—while he served God diligently with prayers and hymns—the Lord, as it were for his veteran soldier, prepares rewards, inasmuch as, while still placed in the body, he performed the offices of an incorporeal life after the manner of the Angels; and, judging it fitting to provide heavenly food in the desert for him who awaited the heavenly King with sleepless watches.

Wishing therefore God to reward his faithful purpose even in this age, he brought back the care of his daily food to the solicitude of His own providence. For whenever the necessity of nature demanded of him the use of food, entering his cave he would find bread laid upon the table, of wondrous sweetness and wondrous whiteness: refreshed from which, and rendering thanks to the divine excellence, he would turn again to hymns and prayers. To him also divine revelations were made, and many forewarnings from God about things to come. Placed then in such and so great advances, because he began to glory as it were in his own merits, and to call the gift of heavenly benefaction a debt owed to his life: forthwith there crept into him a certain small sluggishness of soul, so small that he could not perceive it.

After this a greater negligence grew, so that he now became slower to hymns, and rose more sluggishly also to prayer: the Psalms too themselves were no longer sung by him with the same vigilance as before, but when a little of the accustomed service had been performed, his soul, as though wearied by excessive labor, hastened to rest: because his mind, having become reprobate, had fallen from higher things to lower, and his thoughts were hurrying him through various precipices. For there was now in his heart a certain hidden, base and wicked thought, yet the former habit still persisted; as if a stream of water, even when the rowing ceases, still carries the ship forward by its former impetus: so also the old training was drawing the man to accustomed duties. For this reason he still seemed to stand in his own state.

So when after prayers he sought food as usual toward evening, entering the place in which he was accustomed to be refreshed, he found the bread laid upon the table as usual, and, refreshed by it, he took no care to amend the things that were turning over in his heart, nor did he perceive the harm of his change, but he did not understand that one who despises small things falls little by little. Meanwhile, when he was already goaded by a grievous fire of lust, and, inflamed with base concupiscence, was being carried back again toward the world, that day, however, he restrained himself, and performed the accustomed offices of hymns and prayers as usual, and entering to take food, he found indeed the bread laid upon the table, but somewhat dirtier. He was astonished, and became sad: for he understood that this kind of portent had regard to himself; nevertheless, having taken the food, he was refreshed.

After the third day he began to be urged by threefold goads: for the image of a woman, as though already present and set beside him, and reclining with him, had taken hold of his thoughts, whom he seemed also to embrace, and to have lying beneath him for shameful uses. He proceeded, however, on the following day also to the accustomed offices of psalm-singing and prayer, but he stood with wandering eyes, and captive in mind. And when, entering as usual toward evening, he sought food, he found indeed bread upon the table, but most filthy and most dry, and as it were gnawed on every side by mice or dogs. Then, when he saw this, he groaned, and shed tears, but not so much from the heart, nor so abundant, as could extinguish the flame of so great a fire.

Nevertheless he takes the food, but neither as much as he wished, nor of the kind he was accustomed to: while meanwhile his thoughts, like a barbarian cohort, surround him on every side, and hurl darts at him from every quarter, and drag him bound and captive back to the world. Rising up therefore, he began to travel by night through the desert, and to make for the city: but when day came, the city was still far off. He himself, meanwhile, being scorched by a most fierce heat, and being wearied in the desert, began to look about on every side with his eyes and to inquire whether there might be somewhere nearby a monastery: and when he had caught sight of the cell of certain brothers, he made his way there, that he might rest among them.

When the servants of God perceived that he was approaching, they immediately ran out to meet him, and, receiving him as an Angel of God, worshipped him, washed his feet, invited him to prayer, set a table, and fulfilled all the offices of charity according to the divine command. But when he had been refreshed, and had rested a little, they began, as usual, to seek from him, as from a most learned and most highly reputed father, a word of edification, and to inquire after counsels of salvation. They asked him also how one might escape the snares of the devil, or if ever base thoughts had been thrown into the mind, how they could be driven off and cast aside.

Then he, being thus compelled to give counsel to the brothers, and to teach them the way of salvation, and to make a discourse about the ambushes of demons (which they lay for the servants of God), fully and sufficiently instructed them indeed, but kindled in himself the goads of compunction, and, returning into himself, said: How do I admonish others, while I myself am deceived? Or how do I correct others, who do not amend myself? Come then, wretch, do yourself first what you teach others to do. And while he used such rebukes against himself, and had understood that he had been miserably tripped up, bidding the brothers farewell, he at once gave himself in most rapid course to the desert, and returned to the cave from which he had departed; prostrating himself before the Lord in prayer, saying: Unless the Lord had helped me, my soul had almost dwelt in hell. And again: I had almost been in every evil, and they had almost consumed me on the earth.

In this indeed was fulfilled what Scripture says: A brother helping a brother shall be exalted, like a fortified and strong city. A brother who helps a brother is like a strong city, and judgments are like the bars of cities. After this, therefore, he remained all his life in mourning and tears, seeing that he had lost the benefit of the heavenly table divinely granted to him: for he began again to eat his bread in labor and in the sweat of his face. He shut himself up within the cave, and, lying in sackcloth and ashes, remained so long mourning and weeping in prayers, until an Angel of the Lord, standing by him, said to him: The Lord has accepted your repentance, and has been reconciled to you: but beware lest, being again lifted up, you be deceived. Brothers will come to you, whom you yourself taught, bringing you blessings, which do not refuse to accept, and taking food with them, give thanks to your God.

These things I have spoken to you, my little sons, that you might know both how great is firmness in humility, and how very great is ruin in exaltation. For this reason, finally, our Saviour also taught us the first beatitude concerning humility, saying: Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. At the same time I say such examples also, that you may be more cautious, lest you be seduced by demons in the subtlety of thoughts. For this reason also a form of this kind is observed among monks, that if anyone comes to them, whether man or woman, whether old or young, whether unknown or known, before all else prayer is made, that the name of the Lord be invoked: because if there should be some transformation of a demon, immediately, once prayer has been made, it will flee away.

But if in your thought the demons themselves should suggest something for which you ought to be praised and exalted, do not consent to them, but rather then humble yourselves the more in the sight of the Lord, and reckon it as nothing when they suggest to you something about pursuing praise. Finally, even I was frequently seduced by demons at night, and they allowed me neither to pray nor to rest, suggesting to my senses certain phantasms and thoughts through the whole night. But in the morning, as though with a certain mockery, they would prostrate themselves before me saying: Forgive us, Abba, for we have caused you labor all night. But I answered them: Depart from me, all you who work iniquity; and do not tempt the servant of the Lord. And you too, therefore, little sons, love quiet and silence, and give diligence to knowledge, and exercise yourselves, so that by frequent conference you may present your mind pure to God, lest your prayers be hindered before God.

For although those also do a good work, and there is in them a commendable conscience, who, being placed among people of the world, are exercised in good works, and occupy themselves with religious and holy acts, either pursuing hospitality, or performing services of charity, or visitations of mercy, and accomplishing other works of this kind, in which some indeed always contribute some good; yet they keep themselves chaste. These, then, are commendable, and very commendable, who please God in good acts, and are workers not to be ashamed of the commandments of God. But yet all these have earthly acts, and are occupied with corruptible matters. But he who labors in the exercise of the mind, and refines within himself the spiritual senses, must be judged far superior to those. For he prepares within himself a place where the Holy Spirit may dwell, and, taking a certain forgetfulness of earthly things, bears solicitude for heavenly and eternal things.

For he sets himself always before the face of God, and, casting behind his back all solicitudes for present things, is bound by the sole heat of divine desire, and, set in the praises of God, cannot be satisfied day and night with hymns and Psalms.

These things and many others like them the blessed John, speaking to us for three continuous days, refreshed and renewed our souls. But when we began to wish to depart from him, having given us his blessings, he said: Go in peace, O little sons; yet this I wish you to know, that on this very day the victories of the religious Prince Theodosius over the Tyrant Eugenius have been announced at Alexandria. It is necessary, therefore, that Theodosius himself also, not long after, should end his life by his own death. And when we had departed from him, we found by trustworthy report that these things had happened just as he had foretold. But after a few days certain brothers followed after us, announcing to us that the holy John himself had rested in peace.

Now his death was of this kind: for three days, they say, he allowed no one to come in to him, and, having placed his knees in prayer, he gave up his spirit, and so went to the Lord, to whom is glory forever and ever, Amen.

We saw also another venerable man in the Thebaid, named Hor: he was the father of many monasteries, who by his very bearing seemed to have the honor of an angelic being, now ninety years of age, with a long beard, and shining with radiant whiteness, of countenance and aspect so joyful, that the very sight of him seemed to have something more than is in human nature. This man, having first been exercised in the farthest desert with very many labors of abstinence, at last established a monastery near the city. In the places adjoining his dwelling he himself, with his own hands, planted and set out woods of various kinds of trees, in which, as has been affirmed to us by very many holy fathers, before his coming there was no shrub whatsoever.

Now he planted this wood for this reason, that the brothers whom he desired to gather there might not have the necessity of wandering far off for the sake of wood, taking care both of these things which are necessary for the service of the body, but especially for their salvation and faith. He himself, however, while he was in the desert, fed on herbs and certain roots; and these seemed sweet to him. Water, if ever he found it, he drank, occupying the whole time of day and night with prayers and hymns. But when he had come to a ripe age, an Angel of the Lord appeared to him in the desert in a vision, saying: You shall become a great nation, and much people shall be entrusted to you, and through you many thousands of men shall be saved.

But as many as you shall, while placed in this life, turn to salvation, over so many shall you receive dominion in the future; and fear nothing: for never shall anything be lacking to you of those provisions which are required for the use of the body, as often as you shall ask these of God. When he had heard these things, he came to places nearer at hand, and first began to dwell alone under a small hut, which he himself had built, feeding only on prepared vegetables, sometimes even after continued fastings. At first he did not know letters: but when he had come from the desert to those nearer dwelling-places which we mentioned above, grace was given him divinely. And when a book had been offered to him by the brothers, as though already long knowing letters, he began to read. Power against demons also was conferred upon him, so that many of those whom demons were oppressing were dragged to him even unwillingly, proclaiming with a loud voice his merits.

But he also worked very many other healings.

Meanwhile very many multitudes of monks were gathering to him; among whom, when we too had arrived, upon seeing us he was made most joyful. And when, greeting us, he had prayed according to his custom, he washed the feet of his guests with his own hands, and began to teach us from the Scriptures those things which pertain to the edification of life and faith. For the grace of teaching had been bestowed upon him by God. When therefore he had wisely expounded to us very many chapters of the Scriptures, he turned again to prayer. Now it was his custom not to take bodily food before he had received the spiritual Communion of Christ. When he had received it, after the giving of thanks he began to exhort us also to take refreshment. Yet he himself, sitting with us, never ceased to remind us of something concerning spiritual pursuits.

He told us, then, something of this sort: "I know," he said, "a certain man in the desert who for three continuous years took no earthly food: for an angel of God brought him heavenly food every third day, and this was his food and drink." And again: "I know a man of this kind, to whom demons came in the likeness of a heavenly army, and in the guise of Angels, driving fiery chariots, with great pomp, as though escorting some great king, and he who among the rest seemed to be regarded as king said to him: 'You have fulfilled all things, O man; it remains only that you worship me, and I will translate you as Elijah.' But the monk, hearing this, said in his heart, 'What is this?

Every day I worship the Savior, who is my King: if this were he, how would he demand of me that which he knows I do unceasingly?' And after this he answered him: 'I have my King, whom I worship daily without ceasing: but you are not my king.' And immediately at these words the enemy nowhere appeared." But he was telling us these things as though they were the deeds of another, recounting his own under another's person. Yet the fathers who were present affirmed to us that it was he himself who had seen and heard these things.

This, then, was that magnificent father, who among his other good deeds also afforded this to brothers arriving, and to those wishing to dwell with him: he would have the brothers who were with him called together, and in a single day would build a cell for the arriving brother. Great was the eagerness of the brothers in this work, each of them hastening to carry bricks, or hand over mud, or pour water, or bring wood. And when it was finished, he himself would hand it over to the brother furnished with all utensils and necessities.

Once, when a certain deceitful brother had come to him, and, in order to appear naked, had hidden his clothes, he rebuked him before all, and brought forth into the midst what had been hidden; and all were so struck with fear that thereafter no one dared to deceive in his presence. So great was the virtue of his soul, and so great the magnitude of divine grace, which he had sought by the labor of abstinence and purity of faith. And the multitudes of brothers placed with him were filled with such grace, that when they gathered for church, choirs of Angels, resplendent in garments and in minds, seemed, in imitation of the heavenly Powers, ever wakeful in hymns and praises of God.

We saw also in the Thebaid another man, by name Ammon, father of about three thousand monks, who are called Tabennesiotes, men of immense abstinence, whose custom is to be clothed in tunics like linen sacks, and to be covered by a skin made to descend from the neck down the back and side; also to have the head covered with cowls, especially when it comes to eating, and they veil even the face with these, lest one detect another taking food too sparingly. There is among them the deepest silence in taking food, so that it is not thought that any human being is in that place where they sit at table, and their whole manner of life amid the multitude is such as if it were in solitude, since each one's abstinence is so hidden that it cannot be detected by another. They sit at table, then, touching rather than taking food, so that they seem neither to have been absent from the tables, nor yet to have satisfied the belly.

For it is a greater virtue of continence to abstain from those things which are held before the eyes and in the hands.

We saw also another elder, surpassing all men in gentleness, by name Benus, of whom the brothers who were with him affirmed that never had an oath, nor a lie, proceeded from his mouth, nor had any man ever seen him angry, or uttering a superfluous or idle word, but his life was in the deepest silence, his manners tranquil, and in all things he was a man as of the angelic order; his humility, too, was immense, and in all things he accounted himself as nothing. Finally, though we begged him much that we might hear some word of edification from him, we could scarcely obtain that he speak to us a little concerning gentleness.

Once, when a certain beast, called a hippopotamus, was laying waste a region near and adjoining to him, he was asked by the farmers and came to the place; and when he had beheld the monstrous beast, he said to it: "I command you in the name of Jesus Christ, that you lay waste this land no more." Then it, as though pursued by an Angel, fled away and was never seen again at all. In like manner they related that a crocodile too was put to flight by him at another time.

We came also to a certain city of the Thebaid, called Oxyrhynchus, in which we found such goods of religion that no one could worthily recount them. For we saw it filled within with monks, and surrounded on every side without. The public buildings (whatever had been in it) and the temples of the ancient superstition were now the dwellings of monks, and throughout the whole city far more monasteries than houses were to be seen. Now in that city itself, since it is very large and populous, there are twelve churches, in which the public assembly of the people is held, besides the monasteries, in each of which there are houses of prayer. But neither the gates themselves, nor the towers of the city, nor any corner of it at all, is free of the dwellings of monks, who throughout every part of the city, day and night, offering hymns and praises to God, make the whole city as it were one church of God.

For no heretic or pagan is found there at all, but all the citizens are Christians, all Catholic, so that it makes no difference at all whether the Bishop should make prayer in the square or in the church. The magistrates themselves too, and the leading men of the city, and the rest of the citizens, diligently station at each gate those who watch, so that if a stranger or a poor man should appear anywhere, he is brought, with rival eagerness, to whoever first laid claim to him, to receive what is necessary.

But how shall I recount the things done toward us by the very populace, seeing us pass through their city, running to meet us as though we were Angels, and paying us honor? Or of the monks and virgins themselves, whose innumerable multitudes (as we said above) are held in that city? For upon inquiring of the holy Bishop of that place, we found that twenty thousand virgins and ten thousand monks were held there. To recount to you the affection of all these toward us, and the honor which they showed, neither does speech suffice, nor modesty permit—how they tore our little cloaks, each one snatching us to himself and desiring to bring us to his own place.

We saw also there very many of the holy fathers possessing diverse graces of God, some ministering in the word of God, some in abstinence, some in signs and powers.

We saw also another, not far from the city, on that side which leads out to the desert, by name Theon, a holy man, shut up as a solitary within his own cell, who was said to have kept a continence of silence for thirty years, and who worked so many powers that he was reckoned among them as a Prophet. For a very great multitude of the sick would gather to him each day, to whom he, putting forth his hand through the window and laying it upon the head of each, and blessing them, sent them away healed of every illness. He was also so honorable in mere appearance, and bore such reverence in his countenance, that among men he seemed an Angel: so joyful in his eyes did he appear, and full of every grace.

When robbers had come upon him by night, a short time before, as we learned, believing that they would find gold with him, he bound them by prayer alone in such a way that, fixed at his doors, they could not move themselves at all. But in the morning, when the crowds had gathered to him as was their custom, and saw the robbers at his doors, they wished to hand them over to fire. But he, compelled by the necessity of the matter, spoke to them only this one word: "Let them," he said, "go away unharmed, otherwise the grace of healings will flee from me." The people, hearing this, not daring to gainsay it, let them go. But the robbers, seeing what had been done concerning them, cast aside their will to crime, and repenting of their many past deeds, fled to the neighboring monasteries, and there took up the form and manner of a more amended life.

Now the aforesaid man was learned not only in the language of the Egyptians and the Greeks, but also of the Latins, as we learned both from him himself and from those who were with him. And he himself, wishing to make it known, and to console the labor of our pilgrimage, writing on a tablet showed us the grace and learning of his speech. His food, moreover, was without the use of fire. They said also that at night, going out into the desert, he would use the company of very many beasts of the wilderness. He himself, drawing water from his well and offering them drink, would reward the service of their labor. A clear indication of this fact was given, in that the tracks of buffaloes, goats, and wild asses were found in great number around his cell.

We saw also another holy man, by name Apollonius, in the Thebaid, in the territory of Hermopolis, to which city they relate that the Savior, with Mary and Joseph, came from the borders of Judea, according to the prophecy of Isaiah, who says: "Behold, the Lord sits upon a swift cloud, and shall come into Egypt, and the handmade things of the Egyptians shall be moved at his presence, and shall fall to the ground" (Isaiah 19). We saw, then, there also the very temple into which, when the Savior had entered, they related that all the idols fell to the ground and were shattered.

We saw, then, the aforesaid man, having monasteries also in the neighboring desert beneath a certain mountain: for he was the father of about five hundred monks, and was held most famous throughout all the borders of the Thebaid. For great works were his, and he performed many powers, signs, and wonders through God. For having been nurtured in abstinence from boyhood, when he came to mature age, the grace of God grew ever with him. For he was about eighty years old when we saw him flourishing amid the gathering of the monasteries: and even those who seemed to be his disciples were so perfect and so excellent that almost all of them could work signs. They said that he had withdrawn to the desert at fifteen years of age, and that when he had spent forty years there in spiritual exercises, the voice of God came to him and said: "Apollonius, through you I will destroy the wisdom of the wise in Egypt, and the understanding of the prudent I will reject.

And I will destroy for me those also who are among them the wise men of Babylon, and I will overthrow all the worship of demons. Go, then, now to the inhabited places: for you shall beget for me a substantial people, and a perfect zealot of good works." But he, answering, said: "Take away from me, Lord, all vainglory, lest perchance, exalted above my brothers, I fall from all your good gifts." Again the divine voice answered him: "Put your hand to your own neck, and whatever you grasp, bind it, and bury it beneath the sand." And he, without delay, having put his hand to his own neck, seized as it were a little Ethiopian, and immediately buried him beneath the sand, as he cried out and said: "I am the demon of pride." After this a voice came to him from God, saying: "Go now: for whatsoever you shall ask of God, you shall obtain." He, then, after this went forth to those places in which men dwelt.

Now these things happened in the times of Julian the tyrant.

Now there was in those parts a certain cave near the desert, in which he began to dwell, devoting himself unceasingly day and night to prayers, bending his knees a hundred times (as they said) by day, and the same number by night, and sealing them to God. He used food that was more heavenly than human. His garment was a tunic of tow, which among them is called a "lebes," and a linen cloth to wrap his neck and head. Yet they reported that these garments had remained upon him in the desert never growing old. He lived, then, in a place near the desert, abiding in the power of the Spirit, working signs and marvelous cures, which no voice could suffice to relate on account of their vastness (as we learned from the elders who were with him).

His great fame having spread abroad, when he began to be held by all in admiration as though he were some prophet or Apostle, monks from neighboring regions gathered to him from various places, and each one offered his own soul to him, as though to a devoted father, as a great gift. And he, receiving each of them with complete devotion, urged some to good works, others to good understanding: but he himself first showed by example what he desired to teach in words. On other days he allowed each one to practice as much abstinence for himself as he was able; but on the Lord's Day, for the sake of charity, he exhorted all to take food together with him, though he himself kept to his accustomed observances of abstinence, using only herbs or vegetables, and admitting no use or service of fire.

When he heard that in the time of Julian (as we said above) a certain brother had been seized by the soldiery and was being held in prison, he came to him with the brothers for the sake of consolation, and to urge him to hold steadfast in his necessity, and to despise and mock the dangers impending: "For now," he said, "is the time of struggle, in which the minds of the faithful must be tested and made known by trials." And while he was strengthening the young man's spirit with these and other words, a centurion came upon them, and was indignant that he had dared to enter: he set the keys outside the prison, and shut him in together with all who had come, so that they too might likewise be detained for military service; and having stationed a great many guards, he departed. But in the middle of the night an Angel was seen standing there, resplendent with great light, and, the guards being stupefied and terrified, he threw open the bars of the prison.

Then the guards themselves, falling at the feet of the saints, begged them to depart, saying that it was better for them to die for their sake than to resist the divine power which was caring for them. But in the morning the centurion himself, together with the leading men, came hastening to the prison, asking that all who seemed to be held should depart. For he said that his house had collapsed in a great earthquake, and had destroyed the choicest of his servants. But the saints, having heard these things, sang a hymn and praises to God, and returning to the desert, were gathered together as one, having, after the example of the Apostles, one soul and one heart.

Now the aged father taught them to make daily progress in the virtues, and to crush at once, in their very beginnings, the snares which the devil brought upon men through their thoughts. "For thus," he said, "the head of the serpent is crushed, and its whole body is rendered dead. For this reason God commands us to watch the serpent's head, so that we may not at all, from the very outset, receive evil and filthy thoughts into our heart. How much more, then, is it unfitting that the phantasms of thoughts should be allowed to spread in our senses, when he forbids them even to be received at the beginning?" He also gave this admonition, that in the virtues one should surpass another, and that no one should allow himself to become inferior to his neighbor. "By this," he said, "you shall know that you are progressing in the virtues, if no passion for worldly desires remains in you. For this is the beginning of the gifts of God.

But if any one of you should come even to this, that he works signs and wonders, let him not be puffed up on this account, nor be exalted in his own thought as though preferred above the rest; nor indeed ought he to show to men that he has received this gift of grace, otherwise he will deceive himself, and he himself will be deceived, and will lose the grace."

He possessed, then, this magnificent teaching of the word of God, as we ourselves also in part enjoyed; but he possessed a greater grace in his works. For whatever he asked of God, he obtained without delay: and many revelations besides were shown to him. In particular, he saw in a dream his elder brother, who had also died in the desert, with whom he had lived a perfect life for a very long time, sitting in the Apostolic seat, and made one of them, having left to him the inheritance of virtues and grace.

And when he also prayed for himself, that the Lord might take him more quickly, and grant him rest with him in heaven, answer was given to him by the Lord Saviour, that he must still remain a little longer in this life, until many imitators of his life and manner of living should arise: for many peoples of monks were to be entrusted to him, and a certain army of the devout; that through these he might find a worthy reward for such merits with God. And as he saw, so it came to pass. For monks gathered from every place, drawn by his fame and teaching, and especially, very many renouncing the world through his examples, made a great gathering with him in the aforesaid place of the mountain, keeping in one accord a common life at a single table. This we beheld as truly a kind of heavenly and angelic host, adorned in all the virtues.

None among them indeed wore filthy garments, but they shone alike in splendor of raiment and of souls, so that, according to Scripture, the thirsty desert rejoiced, and many of its children were seen in the wilderness. (Isaiah 35.) Which, although said of the Church, were nonetheless fulfilled in the deserts of Egypt also, according to the historical account. There such multitudes come to salvation through the cities as the deserts of Egypt have produced. As many peoples as are found in the cities, so many multitudes of monks are found, nearly, in the deserts. Whence it seems to me that the saying of the Apostle is fulfilled in them: that where sin abounded, grace abounded still more. For once the unclean worship of idols abounded in Egypt as in no other nation ever. For they worshipped dogs and apes and other monstrosities.

Garlic too and onions, and certain vegetables, they believed to be gods, as we learned from the account of the father Apollonius himself, who explained to us the cause of their ancient superstition in this manner: The Egyptians once believed the ox to be a god, because through it, tilling their fields, they obtained their food and sustenance. They also venerated the water of the Nile, because it watered all the regions of Egypt. They worshipped also the earth, as being more fertile than other lands. Dogs too, as we said above, and apes, and various kinds of herbs and vegetables they worshipped, because they supposed that through these an occasion of safety had come to them in the days of Pharaoh.

For concerning each of these things some occupation seemed to have arisen for them, when that Pharaoh, pursuing our fathers, was drowned, and each one reckoned as his god that thing by which he happened to be occupied so as not to follow Pharaoh, saying: "Because God did this for me today, that I should not follow Pharaoh, and be drowned along with him."

These, then, were the words of the holy Apollonius. But much more ought to be written of what he accomplished in works and virtues. There were at one time, in the region around him, about ten villages of Gentiles, among whom demonic superstition was cultivated with the utmost zeal. For there was a very great temple there, and in it an idol, which it was the custom for the priests to carry about in the manner of Bacchic revelers, going around with the rest of the multitude, and, as it were, going forth for the rains, engaged in profane mysteries. Now it happened, at the time when such orgies were being celebrated by them, that the blessed Apollonius was journeying through those very places with some brothers.

And when he saw the crowds of the wretched people, as though driven by some demon, raving through the fields, taking pity on their error, he knelt down and called upon our Lord and Saviour, and made all those who were being driven by the demonic rites, together with their idol, stand motionless, so that they could not proceed anywhere at all. And thus they remained for the whole day, scorched by the most fierce heat, not knowing why it had happened to them to be fixed motionless in one place. Then their priests said that there was a certain Christian dwelling in the regions near the desert, named Apollonius, and that this was his doing, and that unless he were entreated, the danger would remain upon them.

When those who had heard of it gathered from every side to see the miracle of so great a thing, and inquired what might be the cause of so great a portent, they confessed that they were utterly ignorant; yet they said that suspicion pointed to the aforementioned man, whom they also asked to be entreated on their behalf. Then some of them said that they truly believed it, for they affirmed that they had seen him passing by on that journey; and yet they did not delay in applying such remedies as they thought might help. They brought oxen, by whose strength it seemed the idol might be moved. But when even thus they achieved nothing, being frustrated of all aid, they sent envoys to the man of God, promising that if he would release them from these bonds, he would likewise dissolve in them the bonds of error. When this was reported to him, he came down to them without delay, and by prayer alone poured out to God, released them all.

And they, without delay, all fled unanimously to him, believing in our saving God, and giving thanks. The idol, which was of wood, they at once handed over to fire. They themselves, following the man of God, and instructed by him in the faith of the Lord, were joined to the Church of God. Very many of them indeed remained with him, and even now dwell in monasteries. The fame of this marvelous deed spread everywhere, and many were converted to the faith of the Lord because of it, so that in all those regions scarcely any Gentile now remains. After some time, a dispute arose over boundaries between two villages. When this was reported to the man of God, he hastened down to them for the sake of peace. But they, inflamed with the fury of contention, could by no means be turned to counsels of peace, chiefly because the people of one side placed the greater part of their confidence in the strength of a certain robber, who seemed to be the standard-bearer of the very contest.

When Apollonius saw him resisting peace, he said to him: "If you, my friend, will consent to peace, I will ask my God, and he will forgive you your sins." And when he heard this, he delayed nothing at all, but fell at his knees and besought him. Then, turning to the crowds who had followed him, he made them all depart in peace. When they had withdrawn, he himself remained with the man of God, seeking from him what had been promised. Then Apollonius took him and, journeying with him to the monasteries, taught him that he must change the order of his life, and patiently seek mercy from God, and await the promise in faith; for he said all things are possible to one who believes.

And when at night they had rested together in the monastery, both of them saw in a vision that they were in heaven, and stood before the tribunal of Christ: they also saw the Angels of God, and all the Saints adoring the Lord: and when, seeing these things, they too had adored God, a voice of God was brought to them, saying: "Although there is no communion of light with darkness, nor any portion of the faithful with the unfaithful; yet salvation is granted to you for this man for whom you have interceded, Apollonius." But when they had heard many other things as well, set in that heavenly vision, which neither speech suffices to relate nor ear to hear, they rose from sleep, and told the brothers what they had seen. Great wonder began to arise, when each told one and the same dream.

The robber remained thereafter with the brothers, now a holy man, changing his life and manners to complete innocence and piety, turned, as it were, from a wolf into a lamb, so that in him the prophecy of Isaiah seemed most fully fulfilled, which says: "The wolves shall feed with the lambs, and the lion and the ox shall feed together on straw" (Isaiah 11). We saw there also some men of the Ethiopian nation living with the monks, and many others among the rest of the monks excelling in observance of religion and in strength of soul, so that in them too the Scripture seems to be fulfilled, which says: "Ethiopia shall stretch out her hands to God".

Moreover, this too was reported in the deeds of holy Apollonius. At a certain time a dispute was said to have arisen between two villages, one of which was Christian, the other of the Gentiles. Very many crowds of armed men set out from each side. It happened that holy Apollonius came upon them. And while he exhorted them to peace, a certain one among the Gentiles, who was as it were the chief and cause of that war, a savage and fierce man, resisted him vehemently, saying that he would not allow peace to be made, even to his own death. Then he said: Let it be as you wish, for no one else besides you will perish; but a tomb fitting to your honor will be made for you, not earth, but the bellies of beasts and vultures. And immediately his word was made true, for no one else on either side fell but he alone.

When they had buried him under the sand, returning in the morning they found him dug up and torn by beasts, and devoured by vultures. And when all were struck with wonder that the word of the man of God had thus been fulfilled, they were all converted to the faith of the Lord the Savior, and proclaimed Apollonius a prophet of God.

But let not this escape us either, which we learned had been done by him in the earliest days (in which he had begun to dwell in a cave with a few brothers). The holy day of Easter was at hand, and when the solemnity of the vigils and of the Sacraments had been completed within the cave, and a meal was being prepared from what they had among them (they had, however, only a few dry loaves, and vegetables of the kind that are usually kept sprinkled with salt among them), then Apollonius began to address the brothers who were with him thus: If there is faith in us, and we are truly faithful servants of Christ, let each one of us ask of God, if he willingly desires to receive anything as on a feast day. But they rather (those who excelled in age and merits) allowed these things to be asked of God, indicating themselves to be inferior to this grace.

Then he with all eagerness poured out prayer to God: and when it was finished, when all had responded, Amen: behold, suddenly they see standing before the doors of the cave certain men entirely unknown to them, who brought so many abundant supplies of all things pertaining to the use of food, that no one could easily have seen either so much or so varied. Among these were certain kinds of fruit never at all seen in the regions of Egypt, and grapes of incredible size, nuts, figs, and pomegranates too, all out of season, honeycombs, and abundance of honey and milk. Also huge dates, and warm and very clean loaves of bread, which nevertheless seemed to be of a foreign province. But the men who had brought these things, as soon as they had delivered them, as though hastening to return to him by whom they had been sent, soon departed. Then the monks themselves, giving thanks to the Lord, began to eat from what had been brought to them.

And the abundance of it was so great that, distributed daily, it sufficed until the day of Pentecost; certain that this had been sent to them by God as the grace of the feast.

We learned also this, that a certain one of the brothers, to whom the grace of humility and gentleness was lacking, asked him to petition the Lord that this gift might be granted to him also: as he prayed, so great a grace of gentleness and humility came upon him that all the brothers were amazed at the tranquility of his mind and his modesty, in whom previously they had seen nothing of these things. A famine once arose in the Thebaid. Now the inhabitants of that land, knowing that the monks who served the Lord with Apollonius were often fed even without food through the grace of the Lord, all came together with their wives and children to him, asking for food and for a blessing at once. But he, doubting nothing, began to bring forth from those things which had been laid up for the use of the brothers, and to give abundantly to each.

But when only three baskets of loaves remained, and famine pressed the people vehemently, he ordered the baskets, which alone remained, and which would have provided the monks food for one day only, to be brought forth into the midst, and in the hearing of the whole people, who had gathered together out of the necessity of famine, with hands lifted up to God he said: Cannot the hand of the Lord multiply these things? Thus says the Holy Spirit: The bread in these baskets shall not fail, until we are all satisfied with the new fruits: and as very many of those who were present at that time affirmed, for four continuous months the distribution of bread from the baskets never ceased, nor could it ever be lacking. They also related that he had done likewise at another time with a kind of grain and oil.

Moved by these mighty works, the devil is reported to have said to him: Are you perchance Elijah, or some other of the Prophets or Apostles, that you have dared to do these things? But he, answering him, said: What then? Were not the Prophets and Apostles also men, who handed down to us both their faith and their grace? Or was God present then, but now absent? Far be it: God is omnipotent, and what he can do, he can always do. If then God is good, why, O devil, are you so evil? These things, as we have already said above, we have learned by faithful narration to have been done through him by elders, religious and holy men. And although their report is to be held faithful, yet the Lord furnished the confirmation of the elders’ testimony also by this, which we ourselves saw with our own eyes.

For we saw baskets full of loaves being carried to empty tables: and when the tables were filled with loaves, and consumed to complete satisfaction, they were nevertheless gathered up still full. Another marvel also which we saw among him I will not pass over in silence. We were three brothers when we came to him, and behold, while we were still far off from his monastery, brothers came to meet us, who had heard from him three days before of our coming; and they came to meet us with psalms. For this is their custom to do at the arrival of all monks. And bowing their faces to the ground, they kissed us, and pointing us out, said to one another: These are the brothers, of whose coming three days ago father Apollonius foretold to us, saying that after three days three brothers coming from Jerusalem would arrive. So some of the brothers went before us, others followed: yet both companies sang psalms.

But when we now began to draw near, at the sound of the psalm-singing, holy Apollonius himself also came forth to meet us. And when he saw us, he first at once bowed to the ground, and rising received us with a kiss. But when we had entered the monastery, prayer having first been given (as is the custom), he washed our feet with his own hands, and fulfilled the rest of what pertains to bodily rest. This was his custom to do for all who came. Now it was the custom among them that the brothers who were with him did not take food before they received the Lord’s Communion about the ninth hour of the day, and after this they sometimes remained thus until evening, hearing the word of God, being taught without ceasing concerning the fulfilling of the Lord’s commandments.

After this, food having now been taken, some of them withdrew to the desert, recalling the divine Scriptures from memory throughout the whole night, others remained in the same place where they had gathered, and continued watchful in hymns and praises of God until the light, as I myself, being present, saw. But some of them, about the ninth hour, when they had come down from the mountain, having received the grace of the Lord, departed at once, content with this spiritual food alone: and this they did for very many days. Beyond measure was the joy and gladness in them, and such exultation as could be had by no man on earth. No one at all was found sad among them, but if anyone appeared somewhat sorrowful, father Apollonius at once inquired the cause of his sorrow. Often, even if someone wished to conceal it, he himself would declare what lay hidden in the heart, so that the one who was suffering would recognize it.

He would then admonish them, saying that there ought to be absolutely no sadness in those whose salvation is in God, and whose hope is in the kingdom of heaven. Let the Gentiles be sad, he said, and let the Jews mourn, let sinners lament without ceasing: but let the just rejoice. For if those who love earthly things rejoice over fragile and perishable things, why should not we, who have the hope of such great glory, and the expectation of eternity, rejoice with all exultation? Or does not the Apostle also thus admonish us, saying: Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in all things give thanks? But who could sufficiently set forth his teaching and the grace of his words? Whence I judge it better to be silent about these things than to speak of them unworthily.

For blessed Apollonius discoursed much to us, even more privately, concerning the discipline of abstinence, and the integrity of conduct, and much also concerning the zeal of hospitality, and he charged us earnestly that we should receive brothers who came as though receiving the coming of the Lord. For indeed the tradition, he said, holds that arriving brothers are to be adored, so that it may be certain that in their coming the coming of the Lord Jesus is had, who says: I was a stranger, and you took me in. For thus also Abraham received those who indeed seemed to be men, but the Lord was understood in them. Sometimes also, even against their will, he would set before them the example of holy Lot, who compelled the angels by force to be led to the hospitality of his house, in order to compel the brothers to bodily rest.

But this too he urged (if it could be done), that monks should communicate daily in the Mysteries of Christ, lest perhaps one who removes himself far from these should be made far from God; but he who receives these more frequently should seem to receive more frequently the Savior himself, since the Savior himself thus says: He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. But also the very remembrance of the Lord’s passion, when it is assiduously made by the monks, confers upon them very great benefit for the example of patience. And admonition is also given through these things, that each should strive so always to be found ready, lest he be held unworthy of the Lord’s Mysteries. He added moreover to these things, that even remission of sins is given through these to believers.

He admonished, indeed, that the legitimate fasts, that is, the fourth and sixth day of the week, ought not to be broken, unless some great necessity should arise, because on the fourth day of the week Judas had contemplated the betrayal of the Lord, and on the sixth day of the week the Savior was crucified. It will seem, therefore, that whoever on these days, without any necessity, breaks the established fasts, either betrays the Savior along with the betrayer, or crucifies him along with those who crucified him. He said, therefore, that if perchance on the aforesaid days one of the brothers should arrive, if indeed before the ninth hour, on account of the journey, he should wish to take food, a table should be set for him alone: but if he should not wish it, he was not to be compelled; for the tradition of this observance is common to all.

He indeed strongly blamed those who either nourish the hair of their head, or wear an iron collar around their neck, or bear some such thing which seems done for the sustenance of men’s esteem. It is certain, he said, that these seek praise from men, and do these things for the sake of ostentation, whereas it is commanded that even fasts themselves are to be observed in secret, so that they may be known to God alone, who sees what is done in secret, and repays it openly. But as it seems, these are not content with the testimony and reward of him who sees in secret, but wish to be made manifest before men. For the whole discipline of abstinence ought to be kept in secret, both that the body be wearied by fasts, and yet that not vainglory before men, but the recompense of the Lord, be sought.

Discoursing to us on these and many other things concerning the conduct of monks throughout the whole week of days, and confirming the trustworthiness of his teaching by the authority of his own deeds, when we began to set out from him, escorting us a little way, he admonished us, saying: Above all, dearly beloved, have peace among yourselves: do not be separated from one another. Then, turning to the brothers who were escorting us together with him, he said: Which of you, brothers, is ready to conduct them as far as the neighboring monasteries of the fathers? And when almost all had most readily offered themselves, and wished to go forth with us, holy father Apollonius himself chose from among them all three, who knew well both the Greek language and the Egyptian, so that wherever necessary they might interpret for us, and who could also edify us in their conversations.

Sending them with us, therefore, he charged them not to depart from us before we had seen all the fathers, and all the monasteries we wished to see; although no one could suffice to go around them all. Blessing us, then, he sent us away; and he gave the blessing in these words: May the Lord bless you out of Zion, and may you see the good things of Jerusalem all the days of your life.

What we heard concerning a certain holy man Ammon, whose dwelling-place also we saw in the desert, I did not think should be omitted. Therefore, having departed from the blessed Apollonius, as we were proceeding toward the part of the desert facing the south, we saw in the sand the tracks of the trail of a huge dragon, whose magnitude appeared so great that it seemed like some beam drawn through the sand. When we saw this, we were struck with immense terror. But the brothers who were guiding us exhorted us to fear nothing at all, but rather to take courage, and to follow the dragon by its track: "For you will see," they said, "how much faith avails, when you see it destroyed by us. For we have slain with our own hands many dragons and serpents and horned vipers; for thus we read it is written: that the Savior grants to those who believe in him to tread upon serpents and scorpions, and upon all the power of the enemy".

But while they said these things, we, through the weakness of our unbelief, feared more and more, and begged them not to wish to follow the dragon's tracks, but rather that we should go on by the straight road. One of them, however, unable to restrain his eagerness, pursued the dragon. And when he had found its den not far off, he called to us to come to him and see the outcome of the matter. But a certain brother, who dwelt in the nearby desert, met us and forbade us to follow the dragon, saying that we could not even endure the sight of it, especially since we had no experience of seeing such a thing; he said that he himself had frequently seen the beast, of incredible vastness, having fifteen cubits in length.

And when he had dissuaded us from approaching the place, he himself, hastening, drew away the brother who was waiting there for us, prepared to kill the beast, and called him back with him, and by much entreaty turned him from his unwillingness to depart unless he had destroyed it. And when he had come to us, he rebuked our cowardice and lack of faith.

Now when we arrived at his cell, we were received by him with great love, and rested there. He then told us that in that place where he himself dwelt, there had been a certain holy man, whose disciple he himself was, named Ammon, through whom the Lord had performed very many miracles. Among other things, then, he related this also concerning him.

Often, he said, robbers used to come to him and steal the bread, on which alone he fed, and whatever else seemed to have been stored up for his most abstemious sustenance. And when he had frequently suffered annoyance from them, on a certain day he went forth into the desert, and returning from there, he commanded two huge dragons to accompany him, and ordered them to remain at the door of his monastery and to guard the entrance. The robbers came as was their custom, not knowing who these guards at the threshold were, and when they saw the dragons, they became lifeless and out of their minds, fell speechless, and immediately collapsed. When the elder perceived this, he went out and found them half-dead, and coming to them and raising them up, he rebuked them, saying: "Do you see how much harder you are than beasts?

For they obey us for God's sake, but you neither fear God, nor blush to disturb the life of the servants of God." Nevertheless, bringing them into his cell, he set a table for them, and bade them take food. But they, pierced in heart, and converted from all the savagery of their mind, in a short time became better than many who had begun earlier to serve the Lord. For they made such progress through penance that, not long after, they themselves performed the same signs and the same miracles.

At another time also, when a certain most savage dragon was ravaging the neighboring regions and destroying very many, the inhabitants of that place came to the aforesaid father, begging him to destroy the beast from their regions: at the same time, to bend the old man to mercy, they brought with them a certain boy, the son of a shepherd, who, terrified merely by the sight of the dragon, had lost his mind, and, made lifeless and swollen merely by the breath of the beast, was being carried. Then the old man, anointing the boy with oil, restored him to health. But as for himself, though rousing himself to slay the dragon, he was unwilling meanwhile to promise them anything, as though he could help them in nothing. Rising early, however, he went to the lair of the beast, and fixed his knees upon the ground, praying to the Lord. Then the beast began to come upon him with immense onrush, its foulest breaths and hisses and gratings going before it.

But he, fearing none of these things, turned to the dragon and said: "May Christ the Son of God destroy you, who is to destroy the great whale." And when the elder had said this, immediately the most fierce dragon, vomiting forth all its venom together with its breath, burst asunder in the middle with a crack. When the neighboring inhabitants had gathered together and were astonished at the miracle wrought, unable to bear the intensity of the stench, they heaped up over it immense mounds of sand, father Ammon standing by there all the while, since even so, when the beast was dead, they did not dare to approach it without him.

There was a certain presbyter, named Copres, having a monastery in that same desert, a holy man of about eighty years, and he himself performed many miracles, curing sicknesses and bringing about healings, but also putting demons to flight, and doing many wonderful things. Of these he performed not a few even in our presence. When he had seen us, then, and greeted us with a kiss, and, according to custom, after prayer had washed our feet, he asked us what was happening in the world. But we begged him rather to tell us something of his own deeds, and to explain by what actions or what merits the Lord had bestowed such grace upon him. But he disdained nothing, and began to tell us the order of his own life and of his predecessors, whom, however, he declared to have been far more illustrious, and himself to be following their examples only in small measure. He said, then: "It is nothing great, little sons, what you see in us, in comparison with the holy fathers."

For there was a certain most noble man before us, Father by name Mutius. He was the first monk in this place, and he first showed to all of us the way of salvation in this whole desert. He, however, was first a Gentile, the greatest of robbers, and a violator of tombs, and most notorious in all crimes; and the occasion of salvation came to him in this manner. On a certain night he went to the house of a certain virgin consecrated to God, for the purpose of despoiling her, and when he had climbed onto the roof of her house with certain devices well known to craftsmen of this kind, seeking by what art or entrance he might creep into her inner chambers, entangled in the difficulty of accomplishing the deed, he spent most of the night on the roof without any result.

But after many efforts of mind vainly applied, as if wearied, he was overcome by sleep, and in a vision he saw one of royal bearing standing by him, saying: "Cease now from these crimes, and desist from the shedding of human blood, and turn your vigils from execrable thefts to religious labor, and take up the heavenly and angelic warfare, and from now on live by virtues of the soul: and I will make you the leader and chief of this warfare." And when he had heard with joy what was offered to him, an army of monks was shown to him, and he was bidden to hold the leadership over them. Awaking from this, he saw the virgin standing by him, and asking who he was, or whence, or why he had come there. But he, as though made out of his mind, answered her nothing, but only begged that she would show him the church.

But she, when she understood that there was something of divine working in him, led the man to the church, and presented him to the priests. Falling at their feet, he begged to be made a Christian, and that penance be given him at once. But the priests, who knew that this man was the chief of all crimes, marveled if he spoke these things truly. And when his perseverance had made credible the truth of the matter, they advised him that, if he wished this, he should entirely abandon those former things. Then, when he had undertaken the beginnings of religion, he begged that precepts be given to him, by which he ought to walk the way of salvation. And they handed to him the first three verses of the Psalter. When he had diligently considered these, he said they sufficed for him for the way of salvation and the knowledge of piety.

And remaining three days with them, he set out for the desert, where, tarrying a very long time, and persevering day and night in prayer with tears, he took food from the roots of herbs.

Returning then to the church, he rendered the three verses of the Psalm, which he had received from the priests, not only in words, but in deeds and works as well. The priests marveled that, converted so suddenly, he immediately imposed upon himself the sharpest abstinence: and, instructing him more fully in the divine Scriptures, they urged him to remain with them. But he, lest he seem disobedient, having stayed one week with them, went again to the desert, and there, living for seven continuous years in all abstinence, obtained a fullness of grace from the Lord, so that he held almost all the Scriptures by memory. He took bread only on the Lord's Day: and this brought by divine means. For when he prayed, rising from prayer he would find bread laid there, which no man had brought. When he had taken this with thanksgiving, it sufficed until the next Lord's Day.

After a long time, however, returning again to the desert, by the example of his abstinence he invited very many to imitate him: among whom a certain young man came to him, desiring to be his disciple. When he had put upon him the habit of the monks, that is the tunic, and the cowl, and the goat-skin cloak, he began to instruct him in the other institutions of the monks. He took great pains, however, wherever any Christian had died, to bury him. When this young man, his disciple, saw him fitting garments upon the dead with the utmost diligence, he said to him: "I would wish, master, that you also should so clothe and bury me when I am dead." But he said: "I will do so, my son, and I will clothe you so abundantly, until you say, 'It is enough.'" Not long after, indeed, the young man died, and the aforesaid word was fulfilled.

For when he had wrapped very many garments around him, he said to him before all: "Are these sufficient for your burial, little son, or do you still wish that we add something?" Then the dead youth, with his face already veiled and his countenance set, uttered a voice in the hearing of all, and said: "It is enough, father; you have fulfilled what you promised." Those who were present were astonished, and marveled greatly at so wonderful a deed of his. But he, having buried the young man, immediately returned to the desert, with the utmost care avoiding vainglory.

At a certain time, again, he came from the desert to visit the brothers whom he himself had established. And when one of them lay at the point of death, it was revealed to him by the Lord that he was about to die. But the hour was already declining toward evening: he hurried, therefore, that he might be able to see him.

Now the village where the sick man lay was still far off, and, unwilling to enter the village by night, and at the same time meditating within himself on the word of the Savior, where he said: "Walk while you still have light, lest darkness overtake you", and, "He who walks in the light does not stumble"—and when he saw the sun already beginning to set, he said to it: "In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, stand still a little while in your course, and wait for me until I reach the village." And though it had already begun in part to sink, it stood still, and did not set until the man of God arrived at the village. This was made manifest to all those who were standing there. For standing and observing the delay of the sun toward its setting, they all wondered what this could mean, that the sun for so many hours did not go down to its setting.

But seeing Father Mutius coming from the desert, they asked him what this sign meant which the sun had shown. And he answered them: "Do you not remember the word of our Lord and Savior, saying: 'If you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you shall do greater things than these'"? And when they understood that the sun had stood still on account of his faith, they were struck with great fear, and many of them joined themselves to him as disciples, and began to follow him. When, therefore, he had entered the house of that brother, for whose sake he had hastened, and had found him already dead, having made a prayer, he approached the bed, kissed him, and said: "Which do you desire more, brother, to depart and be with Christ, or to remain in the flesh?" Then he, his spirit restored, sat up a little, and said to him: "Why do you call me back, father?

For it is better for me to return and be with Christ: but to remain in the flesh is not necessary for me." To whom he said: "Sleep then in peace, my son, and pray for me." And immediately, reclining himself upon the bed, he slept. Those who were present were astonished, saying: "Truly this is a man of God." Then he clothed the young man decorously, as was his custom, and, spending the whole night wakeful in psalms and hymns, he honorably committed the youth to burial.

And when he had visited another brother lying ill, when he saw him accepting the rest of death with difficulty, and being grievously reproved by the fear of his conscience, he said to him: Why are you unprepared, son, for the journey? As I see, your conscience, the accuser of your slothfulness, goes with you. Then he besought him, saying: I beg you, father, intercede for me with God, that he may grant me a little space of time, in which I may amend my life. But he said to him: Now do you seek a space for repentance, when you have filled up the time of your life? What were you doing during all this time of your life? Could you not have healed your wounds? Rather you kept adding fresher ones. But when he persisted in his entreaty, the old man said to him: If you add no more evils to your evils, we will pray God for you.

For he is good and patient, and grants you a small space of the time of life, that you may pay all your debts. And when after this he had prayed to God, rising from prayer, he said to him: Behold, the Lord has granted you three years in this life; only, that you may turn to repentance from your heart. And taking hold of his hand, he raised him from his bed. And he, rising, without any delay followed him into the desert. And when the three years were completed, he afterward called him back to the place from which he had taken him, no longer as a man, but as one presenting an angel out of a man to God, so that all marveled at his manner of life. And when very many brothers had gathered to him, he set him in their midst, and taking material from him, drew out for the brothers through the whole night a teaching concerning the fruits of repentance and his conversion.

But while he himself was speaking, that brother began to seem to fall asleep a little, and immediately he fell asleep forever. Then, prayer having been made over him, and all things pertaining to burial completed according to custom, he hastened away to the desert.

Frequently, too, he crossed this immense Nile river on foot, the water reaching to his knees.

At another time, with the doors shut and the brothers sitting in the upper rooms, he himself entered in to them, and often, to whatever place he wished, however far away, he was carried within a moment of time.

For at first, still in the early time of his conversion, when he was in the desert and had fasted a week, they say a man met him in the desert, having loaves and water, who urged him to accept the food which had been sent to him from heaven.

At another time also, a demon, standing by him, showed him very many treasures of gold, which he claimed had been Pharaoh's, buried under the earth. To whom Patermutius is said to have answered: Your money be with you unto destruction and perdition. These things, then, and many others like them the Lord accomplished through him.

But there have also been, nonetheless, many other fathers before us, of whose presence the world was not worthy, who worked heavenly signs and wonders. Why then do you marvel, if we, small men, do small things, curing the lame and blind, which even physicians can accomplish by their art?

And when the old man Copres was relating these things to us, one of our brothers, as if wearied by incredulity toward the things being told, began to grow weary, and out of weariness to nod off. And when he had been overcome by sleep, he saw in a vision a book written in gold letters in the hands of the old man Copres, from which the narrative seemed to be drawn, and someone of most illustrious appearance standing by, venerable with white hair, saying to him with great threatening: Why do you not listen attentively to what is being recited, but doze in unbelief? But he, troubled, awoke, and immediately related to us privately in the Latin tongue what he had seen.

Meanwhile we saw a certain countryman approach the old man's door, having a vessel full of sand, and waiting until the old man finished the discourse of his narration. We, then, seeing him, asked the Presbyter what that countryman standing there and holding sand in a vessel wanted. The elder answered us, saying: It was indeed not fitting, O little sons, that I should disclose this to you, lest we seem to glory in the work of God, and the reward of our labor perish; nevertheless for your edification and profit, since you have come to us by so long a journey, I will not suffer even this to be hidden from you, but I will relate the works of the Lord, which he has deigned to accomplish through us.

The soil of this region, which is cultivated near us, was so very barren and unfruitful that, if ever it received seed from the necessity of the farmers, it scarcely returned it doubled. For certain worms were born in the very stalks of the shoots, and they cut down the rising grain. Now the farmers of that place were Gentiles. When we had taught these to believe in God, and to receive the faith of Christ, having now become Christians they come to us, asking that we pray the Lord for their crops. And when we said to them that we would indeed pray, but that their faith was required with God, which might merit to obtain this; they, filling their laps with this sand which we tread underfoot, offered it to us, asking that we bless it in the name of the Lord. And I said to them: According to your faith be it done to you.

Then they, taking away the sand with them, mixed it with the seeds they were about to sow, and scattered it through their fields, and gathered such a harvest as no land of Egypt anywhere could gather. From that time, then, it is their custom to come to us twice every year, and to expect the same thing from us.

But neither will I conceal from you that which the Lord granted me to the glory of his name. I had once gone down to the city, and found there a certain teacher of the Manichees leading the people astray: I had a conflict of words with him. But because he was very crafty, and I could not refute him with words, fearing lest the crowds of hearers be harmed if he should seem to depart superior in words, with the crowds listening, I said: Light a great fire in the middle of the square, and let us both enter into the flame: whichever of us is not burned by it, let his faith be believed true. When I had said this, it greatly pleased the people, and immediately a great fire was lit. Then I, taking hold of him, began to drag him with me toward the fire. But he said: Not so; rather let each of us enter separately: but you must enter first, since you proposed this.

And I, signing myself in the name of Christ, entered into the midst of the flames; and the flame began to scatter this way and that and to flee entirely from me. I stood in the middle of the fire for nearly half an hour, and in the name of the Lord I was in no way at all harmed. But the people, seeing this, cried out with great admiration, and blessed God, saying: Wondrous is God in his saints. They then began to urge the Manichee to enter the fire; but he began to resist and to draw back. Then the crowds, seizing him, threw him into the midst of the fire, and immediately the flame surrounded him, and burning him rendered him half-burnt. And the people cast him out of the city with disgrace, shouting and saying: Let the seducer burn alive. But they took me with them, and blessing the Lord, brought me to the church.

At another time also, while I was passing by a certain temple, I saw the Gentiles sacrificing there, and I said to them: Why, since you are rational men, do you sacrifice to mute and senseless idols? Are you not indeed much more without sense than those to whom you sacrifice? At this word the Lord opened their understanding, and leaving the error which they practiced, they followed me, and believed in our Savior God.

I once had a small garden near the monastery, in which, on account of visiting brothers, we used to cultivate vegetables. A certain Gentile entered by night, and stole vegetables. When he had carried them to his house, he put them on the fire to cook. And though for three continuous hours, with a great fire kindled, they could neither become hot, nor soften, nor grow warm in any degree, but remained in the same greenness in which they had been put on, and not even the water itself could be even slightly warmed, the one who had stolen them, coming to himself, took the vegetables back off the fire again and brought them back to us, and casting himself down before our feet began to beg that he might merit pardon for his sin, and become a Christian; which he also obtained.

Now it happened on that same day that many guest brothers came to us, for whom those very vegetables were conveniently prepared: giving thanks, then, to the Lord for his wonders, we had a double joy, both for the man's salvation, and for the divine benefits.

He added, moreover, this also: Abbot Syrus, he said, once, and Isaiah, and Paul met one another at the bank of a river. Now these men were just, of the highest abstinence and of complete religion. They were going to visit a certain man named Anuph. Now the monastery to which they were going was three stages away. When, then, they wished to cross the river, and there was no means of crossing, they said among themselves: Let us ask grace from the Lord, that the journey of a good work not be hindered for us. And turning to Abbot Syrus, they said: Do you especially ask of the Lord: for we know that you are heard, since he will grant you what you ask. And he, exhorting them also to bend their knees with him, prostrated himself in prayer, on his face before the Lord. And when the prayer was finished and they had risen, behold, they see a boat drawn up to the bank of the river, ready and fit for the journey they were about to make.

Getting into this, they began to be carried so swiftly against the current of the river that within a single hour they completed the distance of the whole journey (which they were to make in three days). And when they had reached the shore, Isaiah said: The Lord has shown me the man to whom we are hastening, meeting us, and revealing the secrets of each of our hearts. But Paul said: And the Lord has shown me too, that after three days he will lead him out of this world.

When, then, they had begun to travel from the river along the path that leads to the monastery, and had gone forward a little, the aforesaid man, whom they were going to visit, met them, and greeting them said: Blessed be the Lord, who has shown you to me both now in the body, and already before in the spirit. And then he began to recall the merits which each of them had before God, and their deeds. Then Paul said: Since the Lord has also shown to us that after three days he will take you from this world, we ask of you, that you also relate to us your virtues and deeds, by which you pleased the Lord, and do not fear the mark of boasting. For as you are about to depart from this world, leave behind for those who come after a memory of your deeds for their imitation.

Then he said: I do not remember having done anything great, yet this I have kept, that from the time I confessed the name of our Savior in persecution, no lie should proceed from my mouth after the confession of the truth, nor should I love anything earthly after the love of heavenly things; nor was the grace of the Lord lacking to me in these things. For he never made me lack for anything earthly, bringing me by the ministry of angels every food I desired. The Lord hid nothing from me of the things done on earth: the light of his presence never departed from my heart, by which, being roused, I did not seek the sleep of the body, having always a desire of seeing him. But he also made his angel always stand by me, teaching me concerning each and every virtue of the world. The light of my mind was never extinguished. Everything I asked of the Lord, I obtained without delay.

He often showed me multitudes of angels standing by him; I saw also the assemblies of the just, and the gatherings of martyrs, the companies of monks, and of all the saints, those, that is, whose only work is always to praise and bless the Lord in simplicity of heart and faith. I saw, on the other hand, Satan and his angels handed over to eternal fires, and again the just enjoying eternal gladness. And when he had related these and many other things like them through the whole three days, he gave up his spirit. And immediately they themselves saw his soul received by angels, and carried to the heavens, so that they themselves even heard the sound of hymns, with which his soul, departing together with the angels, praised the Lord.

There was also another holy man, named Helenus: this man, having been nourished from boyhood in the service of the Lord with every continence and most chaste discipline, had attained to the highest merits. Indeed, while he was still a boy in the monastery, if fire was needed to be fetched from a neighbor, he would carry burning coals in his garment unharmed. All the brothers present, marveling at this, desired to imitate the zeal of his soul, his life, and his merit. Once, when he was alone in the desert, a desire arose in him to eat honey; and turning around he saw a honeycomb clinging to a rock, and understanding this to be a trick of the enemy, he immediately rebuked himself, saying: Depart from me, deceptive and enticing concupiscence. For it is written: Walk in the Spirit, and you shall not fulfill the concupiscences of the flesh.

And at once, abandoning even that very place, he departed and went into the desert, and there, as though to punish the concupiscence of the flesh, he began to afflict himself with fasts. But in the third week of his fast he saw various fruits lying scattered in the desert; and understanding the wiles of the enemy, he said: I will not eat, nor even touch them, lest I scandalize my brother, that is, my own soul. For it is written: Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word of God. And when he was fasting also in the following week, he was drawn a little into sleep, and behold, an Angel of the Lord stood by him in a vision, saying: Rise now, and whatever you find set before you, eat without any doubting. And rising, he saw a spring of water filled with gentle streams, its banks all around bordered with certain tender and fragrant herbs. And approaching, he began to pick and eat, and likewise to take a drink from the spring.

He affirmed that in his whole life he had never tasted anything of such sweetness and such delightfulness. He also found in that same place a certain cave, within which he rested for some time. And when the time and need for refreshing his little body came, nevertheless, by the grace of God, nothing was lacking of what he asked from the Lord. At a certain time he was going to visit some ailing brothers, to whom he was also bringing what was necessary for the refreshment of the body. And when he was burdened on the journey by the weight of what he was carrying, he saw from a distance wild asses passing through the desert, and he cried out, saying: In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, let one of you come here and take up my burden. And behold, one out of the whole herd, with complete gentleness, came to him.

Then he, to the one offering itself willingly, both placed the load upon it and sat upon it himself, and with all speed was carried by it to the cells of the brothers, to which he was going. At another time again, on the Lord's Day, he came to a certain monastery of brothers, and when he saw that they were not keeping the solemnity of the day, he asked the reason. And when they said it was because the Presbyter was not present, who dwelt across the river—for no one dared cross for fear of the crocodile—then he said: If you wish, I will go and bring him to you. And immediately he went to the bank of the river, where, when he had invoked the name of the Lord, the beast was at hand, and the one that used to be present for the destruction of men was then present for the conveyance of the righteous man, and taking him upon its back, with all fear subdued, carried him to the far bank.

Helenus at once went to the Presbyter and began to beg him to come to the brothers; for he was clothed in the vilest and most abject garment. At this the Presbyter, marveling, asked who he was, or whence, or what he wanted. But when he learned that he was a man of God, he began to follow him to the river. And when he objected that no boat could be found by which to cross, then abbot Helenus said to him: Fear nothing, father; I will now prepare a conveyance. And crying out in a loud voice, he commanded the beast to be present. Which, as soon as it heard his voice, was there at once, and calmly prepared its back for carrying; he himself mounted first and invited the presbyter also, saying: Mount up, fearing nothing. But he, seeing the beast, was terrified and began to draw back and flee. But all who were present were seized with great astonishment and fear, seeing a man of God carried by a crocodile across the river channel.

When he had disembarked, he led the beast likewise with him onto dry land, saying to it: Death is better for you than to be involved in the guilt of so many crimes and so many murders. And it immediately fell down and died. Meanwhile, holy Helenus, remaining for three days in the monastery, taught the brothers spiritual doctrine, so much so that he even brought forth into the open the thoughts of the hearts and secret counsels of some, and would reveal that one indeed was being urged by the spirit of fornication, another by the spirit of anger, another by covetousness of money, and some were being mocked by boastfulness and by the spirit of pride. Of another, again, he would give testimony of gentleness, of another of justice, of another of patience, and thus, exaggerating on both sides the vices of some and the virtues of soul of others, he wonderfully cultivated progress in all of them.

And each one, recognizing that what he had declared to be useful was being done among themselves, being pricked at heart, amended their ways. And as he was about to depart, he said to them: Prepare vegetables for the coming of the brothers. And while they were preparing them, brothers immediately arrived, whom he received honorably, and then himself hastened to the desert.

And a certain one of the brothers asked him to allow him to live with him in the desert. And when he had answered him that it was a heavy task and one of great labor to withstand the temptations of demons, the young man persisted all the more contentiously, promising that he would bear everything tolerably, only that he might grant him the opportunity of his company. And when he had permitted it, he followed him into the desert, where he bade him dwell in a cave nearby to his own. Then demons flew in upon him by night: first they harassed him with foul and shameful thoughts, and after this they even attempted to rush upon him violently and to kill him. But the young man, fleeing and flying to the cell of holy Helenus, laid before him what evils were pressing upon him.

Then the elder consoled him with a few words, and admonishing him concerning the virtue of faith and patience, at once sent him back to the cave from which he had fled, and drawing with his finger, as it were, a certain furrow through the sand outside the young man's cell, he commanded, in the name of the Lord, that the demons should not dare to transgress the appointed boundary; and thus, by the power of his word, the young man remained secure from then on.

It was reported of him that this same young man, set in the desert, had often received heavenly food, and that when brothers came to him and he had nothing to set before them, a certain youth appeared bringing him loaves and what was necessary, and when he had set these down before his cave, he was never seen again anywhere; and that he said to the brothers: Let us bless the Lord, who has prepared for us a table in the desert.

These things, and very many others concerning the life and manner of living of the holy Fathers, father Copres related to us, instructing us with every affection; and after the edification of his discourse, he brought us into his little garden, and showed us palm trees and other fruit trees, which he himself had planted, and said: The faith of the country-folk prompted me to plant these in the desert. For when I saw that they had such faith that they would gather up sand from beneath our footsteps and scatter it over their fields, and turn barren soil into the fruitfulness of full abundance, it is shameful, I say, if we should be found inferior to them in faith, whose faith has been sealed to God through us.

We also saw another venerable elder, named Elias, in the territory of the city of Antinoöpolis, which is the metropolis of the Thebaid, now nearly a hundred and ten years old (as was said), of whom they said that truly the spirit of Elijah had rested upon him. For many great things were told of him. For they reported that he had spent seventy years in a vast solitude, the horror and terror of which no speech could worthily describe. There, then, the elder sat throughout all this age, unknowing of any place of human habitation. The path that led to him was narrow and rugged, one that could scarcely be found by travelers. The place itself in which he sat was a certain dreadful cave, striking great horror into those who beheld it. He himself, now with trembling limbs, was shaken by his advanced age. Nevertheless, without ceasing, he performed signs day by day, and healed in every way those who came to him bound by whatever affliction.

All the fathers indeed affirmed that no one at all remembered when he had withdrawn into the desert. His food was a scant loaf of bread and very few olives, even up to his extreme old age. For in his youth he was said to have often fasted whole weeks.

Meanwhile, returning from the Thebaid, we saw a certain mountain, steep, overhanging the river, terrible even to look at because of the towering height of the menacing rock, in which, along the very precipices, were caves difficult of ascent. In these dwelt very many monks, whose father was named Pithyrion. This man had also been among the disciples of the blessed Antony, and after his death had lived with the holy Ammon. After the departure of this latter also, he had settled himself on this mountain; but there was in him such an abundance of virtues, and such grace of healing, and such power against demons, that he seemed alone to have obtained, by merit, the twofold inheritance of the two greatest men. This man, then, edifying many by his counsels and instructing them with much doctrine, taught us especially concerning the discernment of spirits, saying that there are certain demons who attend upon certain particular vices, and who, when they see the affections of the soul moved passibly and viciously, turn them to every evil deed.

If, then, there is anyone who wishes to have dominion over demons, let him first have dominion over his own vices and passions. For whatever vice of one's own passion you shall have cast off, the demon of that vice you will also be able to drive out even from possessed bodies. And therefore one must strive to overcome one's own vices little by little, so that we may also be able to overcome the demons who attend upon vices of this kind. This man took food twice a week, receiving a little gruel of meal, and could no longer take any other food, neither his age nor his habit permitting it.

We also saw another holy father, named Eulogius, who in offering the Sacraments had received such grace from the Lord that he knew the merits and faults of each one approaching the altar of God. Indeed, of the monks, he would hold back some who wished to approach Communion, saying: How have you dared to approach the divine Sacraments, when your mind and intention are set on evil? And further he would say: You had thoughts of fornication this night. And you indeed said in your heart: It makes no difference whether a just man or a sinner approaches the Sacraments. And another had doubt in his heart, saying: How indeed can Communion sanctify me? Each of these, then, he would remove from the communion of the Sacrament, and would say to them: Withdraw for a little while, and do penance, so that, purified through satisfaction and tears, you may be made worthy of the communion of Christ.

We saw also another Presbyter in a neighboring region named Apelles, a just man. He was a blacksmith, and used to work at making what was necessary for the brothers. But on a certain occasion, when he was keeping watch at his smith's work in the silence of the night, the devil, having transformed himself into the likeness of a beautiful woman, came to him as though bringing him some work. Then he, seizing with his bare hand red-hot iron from the furnace, threw it into her face. But she, shrieking and howling, fled away, so that all the brothers who dwelt round about heard the howling of her as she fled; and from that time the man had it as a habit to hold red-hot iron in his bare hand, and not be harmed. When, therefore, we had come to him, and he had received us most kindly, we asked him to tell us either of his own deeds, or of the virtues of those whom he knew to be foremost in the holy life.

Then he said: There is, in this desert nearby, a certain brother named John, advanced in age, surpassing all in life and character and abstinence. When he first came to the desert, for three continuous years, standing under the ledge of a certain rock, he prayed continually, so that he never once sat down, nor lay down at all. He took only as much sleep as he could take standing. He never took food except on the Lord's Day. For then the Presbyter used to come to him, and offer the Sacrifice for him, and that alone was his Sacrament and his sustenance. On a certain day, Satan, wishing to deceive him, transformed himself into the presbyter who was accustomed to come to him, and, arriving before the usual hour, pretended that he had come for the grace of the Sacraments.

But he, watchfully perceiving the deceit of the devil, said to him with a certain indignation: O father of all guile and all deceit, enemy of all justice, you do not cease from seducing Christian souls, but you have even dared to plunge yourself into the very fearful and sacrosanct mysteries. But he answered him: I thought, he said, that I could win you for gain; for thus I also deceived a certain other of your number, so that he lost his mind and his senses. Whom, when he had believed me, I made mad, so that so many just men praying for him could scarcely restore him either to his place or to health. And when the demon had said this, he fled from him. Now the aforesaid man was persevering in the work he had begun, and continuing in prayer. But his feet, from having been immobile for so long a time, were breaking open, so that discharge flowed from them.

But when three years were completed, the Angel of the Lord was present, and said to him: The Lord Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit, have received your prayers, and heals the scars of your body, and grants you abundance of heavenly food, that is, of his word and knowledge. And touching his mouth and his feet, he made him whole from the sores, and, filled with the grace of knowledge and doctrine, he no longer felt the hunger for food. He bids him also to pass on to other places, and, going around the desert, to visit also the other brothers, and to build them up in the word and doctrine of the Lord. On the Lord's Day, however, he always returned to the same place, in like manner for the grace of the Sacraments; but on the remaining days he also did manual work and labored, weaving girths for beasts of burden out of palm leaves, as is the custom to have in those places.

On a certain occasion a certain lame man wished to go to him, that he might be cured by him. Now it happened that the animal which he was about to mount had a girth made by the hands of the man of God. When, therefore, he was set upon the beast, as soon as his feet touched that girth, he was made whole. And to whatever sick persons he sent blessed bread, they were healed as soon as they received it. And many other virtues and healings did the Lord accomplish through him. He had also this grace above all the fathers and other men, that the manner of life of each of the brothers of the neighboring monasteries was revealed to him, so that he wrote to their fathers, and admonished them that such and such were acting slothfully, and did not maintain a right purpose in the fear of God; but such and such were advancing in faith and strength of soul.

But he also wrote to the brothers themselves, to some indeed that they were very tiresome toward the brothers and small of spirit as regards patience, but to others that they were acting well, steadfastly, and diligently, and sufficiently consoling the brothers. And he foretold what merit was in store from the Lord for this one for his virtues, and what rebuke for that one for his sloth, and thus he described the deeds and causes and merits or negligence of those who were absent, so that those of whom it was spoken, hearing it, convicted by conscience, could not deny it.

He taught all, moreover, to transfer their minds from visible and corporeal things to things invisible and incorporeal. For, he said, it is time that we should pass over to such pursuits: for we ought not always to be children, and always to be infants, but at some point to ascend already to spiritual and higher things, and to grasp the understanding of men, and to attain to the perfection of intelligence, so that we may be able to shine forth in the virtues of the soul. But the holy man of God Apelles commended to us in most trustworthy narration many other things also about this man, all of which it seems tedious to write down, and, on account of their greatness, scarcely credible to some hearers.

We saw also the monastery of the holy man of God Paphnutius, who was the most renowned anchorite in those parts, and the last inhabitant of the desert in the regions of Heracleos, a splendid city in the Thebaid.

Concerning him, therefore, we learned from the most trustworthy narration of the fathers, that when he had lived an angelic life, at a certain time he prayed to God to show him to which of the saints he might be considered similar. And an Angel, standing by, answered him that he was like a certain musician, who sought his living by the art of singing in that village. Then he, astonished at the novelty of the answer, going with all haste to the village, sought out the man. And when he had found him, he inquired most earnestly of him what holy and religious work he had done, and examined all his deeds with great curiosity. But he answered, as was the truth, that he was a man of most unworthy life, a sinner, and that not long before he had fallen from being a robber to this foul trade which he now appeared to practice. Paphnutius pressed him the more, asking whether perchance any pious deed had been done by him even among his robberies.

Nothing, he said, am I conscious of good in myself: this, however, I know, that when I was among the robbers, we once captured a virgin consecrated to God: and when the rest of my fellow robbers desired to take away her chastity, I threw myself into the midst and rescued her from the defilement of the robbers, and leading her by night as far as the village, restored her intact to her own people.

At another time also, I found a woman of honorable appearance wandering in the desert. When she was asked by me why or how she had come to these places, she answered: Ask me nothing, most unhappy woman that I am, nor seek out the causes, but if it please you to have a handmaid, take me wherever you wish. For I, unhappy one, have a husband, who, on account of a fiscal debt, is often hung up and scourged, and, tormented with every punishment, is kept in prison, and is brought out for no other reason than to suffer torments. We had, moreover, three sons, who have already been sold off because of the necessity of the same debt. I too, most wretched, because I am sought out for like punishments, fleeing from place to place, worn out with hunger and misery, now wander hiding through these places, having gone these three days now without food.

When I heard this, moved with pity, I brought her to my cell, and, restoring her soul which had collapsed from hunger, I gave her also three hundred solidi, for which she declared herself and her husband and her sons to be liable not only to servitude but also to punishments: and, recalling her to the city, having given the money, I set them all free. Then father Paphnutius said: I have done no such thing; yet I believe that this too has come to your ears, that the name of Paphnutius is celebrated among the monks. For it has been no small zeal of mine to cultivate my life in such disciplines. God, therefore, has revealed to me concerning you, that you have merit before him no less than I. Since, therefore, brother, you see that you are held in no small place before God, do not neglect your soul.

But he, immediately casting away the pipes which he carried in his hand, followed him into the desert, and, exchanging the musical art for the spiritual harmony of life and mind, gave himself for a full three years to the strictest abstinence, exercising himself day and night in psalms and prayers, and making a heavenly journey through the virtues of the soul, gave up his spirit among the angelic choirs of the saints.

After Paphnutius had sent ahead to the Lord the aforesaid musician, made perfect in every exercise of virtue, he himself, engaging in more strenuous pursuits than he had practiced before, again besought the Lord to show him who was like him upon the earth. Again, therefore, the voice of the Lord came to him, saying: Know that you are like the headman of that village which is nearby. Having heard this, Paphnutius, hastening to him without delay, knocked at the door of his house. But he, whose custom it was to receive guests, ran to meet him, and brought him into his house, and, washing his feet also, set a table, and made a feast. But during the meal Paphnutius began to inquire of his host what deeds, what pursuit, what exercises of work he had.

But when he answered humbly concerning himself, and preferred to keep hidden in his good deeds rather than have them made public, Paphnutius pressed him further, saying that it had been revealed to him by the Lord that he was worthy of the fellowship of monks. But he, feeling the more humbly about himself, said: I indeed am conscious of no good in myself; but since the word of God has come to you, from whom nothing is hidden, I cannot conceal it. I will speak, therefore, of these things which are in practice with me, set as I am in the midst of many. Thirty years are now complete, since no one has known me to have had consent to continence with my wife. I have had, however, three sons by her, for whose sake alone I have known my wife, and no other besides her, nor has she herself been known further. I have never ceased to receive guests, but in such a way that I never allowed anyone to run to meet an arriving stranger before me.

I have never sent a guest away from my house without provision for the journey; I have despised no poor man, but have supplied what was necessary. If I have sat in judgment, I have not shown favor even to my own son's person against justice. The fruits of another's labor have never entered my house. If I have seen a dispute, I have never passed it by, until I reconciled those at variance to peace. No one has ever caught my servants in fault: my flocks have never damaged another's crops: I have never forbidden one who wished to sow in my field, nor have I chosen the richer fallow lands for myself, leaving the more barren to others. As far as was in my power, I have never allowed the stronger to oppress the weak. I have always striven in my life to grieve no one. If I was head in judgment, I condemned no one, but strove to recall those at variance to concord.

This, meanwhile, has been the manner of my life up to now, by the gift of God.

But blessed Paphnutius, hearing these things, kissed his head and blessed him, saying: May the Lord bless thee out of Sion, and mayest thou see the good things of Jerusalem. Since therefore thou hast fulfilled these things well and fittingly, one thing is lacking to thee, which is the sum of all good things: that, forsaking all things, thou shouldst now follow the very true wisdom of God, and seek out the more secret treasures, to which thou canst not otherwise attain, unless thou deny thyself and take up thy cross and follow Christ. When he had heard this, without any delay, and without arranging anything at all in his house, he followed the man of God, going with him into the desert. And when he had come to the river, and no boat could be found anywhere to cross, Paphnutius bade him enter the river on foot with him, though in those places the depth was very great. So they crossed the river together, the water scarcely reaching their sides.

But when they had come to the desert, Paphnutius placed the man in a certain cell, not far from his own monastery, and handed on to him the order of spiritual conduct, and taught him the exercises of the perfect pursuits, and entrusted to him also the more secret matters of knowledge. And when he had instructed him in all things, he gave himself anew to greater exercises, reckoning his former labors small in comparison, by which he who had seemed occupied with worldly affairs could be measured. For he said to himself: If these men, who are in the world, do so much good work, how much more ought we to strive, that we might surpass them in the labor of abstinence, by more or even much more?

After some time had passed in these things, and he had brought him to the perfection of knowledge, whom he had taken up already perfect in works, one day, as Paphnutius sat in his cell, he saw his soul taken up among the choirs of angels, who said: Blessed is he whom thou hast chosen and taken up: he shall dwell in thy tabernacles. And when he had heard this, he knew that the man had been taken up from this world. Then indeed Paphnutius persisted in fastings and prayers, stretching himself toward greater and more perfect things.

And again he prayed the Lord to show him to whom he might be reckoned like among men. Again the divine voice answered him, saying: Thou art like a merchant, whom thou shalt see coming to thee: but rise up quickly, and go to meet him. For there is present the man to whom I have shown thee to be like. And Paphnutius, going down without delay, met a certain merchant of Alexandria bringing merchandise worth twenty thousand solidi in three ships from the Thebaid. And since he was religious, and bore a zeal for good works, he was bringing ten sacks of pulse, loaded on his servants, to the monastery of the man of God: and this was the occasion of his coming to Paphnutius. But as soon as he saw him, Paphnutius said: What art thou doing, O most precious soul, worthy of God? What business hast thou with earthly labor, thou whose lot and fellowship has been given with the heavenly ones?

Leave these things to those who are of the earth and think of earthly things: but do thou become a merchant of the kingdom of God, to which thou art called, and follow the Savior, by whom thou art shortly to be taken up. And he, delaying nothing at all, bade his servants distribute to the poor all that remained (for he had already distributed much himself). He himself, following holy Paphnutius into the desert, was established by him in that same place from which the former ones had also been taken up to the Lord. He likewise, having been instructed by him in all things, continued in spiritual exercises and pursuits of divine wisdom. And in a short time, this man too was brought to consummation and translated to the assembly of the just.

And not long after, when Paphnutius himself also was spending his life in the exercises and labors of the highest abstinence, an Angel of the Lord stood by him, saying to him: Come now, blessed one, and enter into those eternal tabernacles which are owed to thee. For behold, the Prophets are present, who will receive thee into their choir. But I did not reveal this to thee before, lest perhaps, being lifted up, thou shouldst suffer some loss of thy labor.

And spending one more day after this still in the body, when certain priests came to visit him, he made known to them all that the Lord had revealed to him, saying to them that no one in this world ought to be despised, even if he be a robber, or one engaged upon the stage, even if he practice the tillage of the field, and seem bound by marriage, even if he be called a merchant and be devoted to trade; yet in every order of human life there are souls pleasing to God, and having certain hidden acts, in which God delights: whence it is clear that not so much the profession of a way of life, or the outward form of habit, is pleasing to God, as sincerity, and affection of mind, and uprightness of works. And when he had discoursed similarly concerning each and every one, he gave up his spirit. And clearly the priests who were present, all the brethren, saw him received by Angels, singing a hymn and praising God together.

We saw also in the Thebaid the most renowned monastery of Isidore, enclosed by very ample spaces and surrounded by a wall, in which spacious dwellings were provided for the men who lived there. Within were many wells, watered gardens, an orchard of every kind of fruit and tree, and whatever was necessary for use was provided sufficiently, indeed abundantly; for this reason, that none of the monks dwelling within should have any need to go outside to seek anything. A certain elder, a grave man, chosen from among the first, sat at the gate, and had this office, that he should receive those who came, on this law, that once they had entered, they should not go out again. If then it should please one to enter once, the law stands unmovable: but what is more admirable, those who have entered are held back not any longer by the necessity of law, but by the blessedness and perfection of life.

This elder therefore at the gate, where he himself dwelt, had adjoining to himself a guest cell, in which he might receive those who came, and refresh them with every kindness. So when we too were received by him, indeed we had no opportunity of entering in, but we learned from him what blessedness of institutions was carried on within.

He said there were only two elder men, to whom the freedom of going out and coming in was permitted, whose care it was to dispense the works of the brethren, and to bring in what was necessary; but the rest were so given to silence and quiet, devoting themselves to prayers and religious pursuits, and so strong in virtues of soul, that all of them worked signs: and what is truly the most wonderful sign of all, none of them incurred the sickness of any infirmity, but when the end of life came for each one, foreknowing it in every way, and indicating to the rest of the brethren his own departure, and bidding farewell to all, lying down for this very purpose, he sent forth his spirit joyfully.

But also in the region of Arsinoe we saw a certain priest Serapion, father of many monasteries, under whose care were held many and diverse monasteries, of about ten thousand monks, who all, from their own labors, which they especially acquired by the wages of their hands at harvest time, brought the greatest part to the aforesaid father, to be set aside for the uses of the poor. Now this was the custom, not only for these, but for almost all the Egyptian monks, that at harvest time they hire out their labor for reaping, and from that wage each one would acquire eighty modii of wheat, more or less, and offer the greatest part of it for the uses of the poor; whence not only are the needy of that region fed, but ships laden with wheat are also sent to Alexandria, to be given either to those shut up in prison, or to other strangers and needy persons. For there are not enough poor within Egypt who could consume the fruits and bounties of their mercy.

We saw also, in the regions of Memphis and Babylon, countless multitudes of monks, among whom we observed also various graces of virtues and ornaments of character. There they say are the places in which Joseph is said to have stored up grain, which they also call the treasuries of Joseph; others, however, say the Pyramids are those very ones in which, as they think, the grain was then gathered.

The elders related that there had been, at the time of persecution, a certain monk of these, named Apollonius, who, when he had led a magnificent life among the brethren, was also ordained a deacon. In the time of persecution, therefore, it was his zeal to go about to each of the brethren, and exhort them to martyrdom. And when he himself also had been seized, and thrust into prison, very many of the Gentiles came to him, as though mocking him, and confuted him with blasphemous and impious words.

Among these was a certain Philemon, by name a most famous flute-player, beloved by the whole people. He, wearying him with many insults, called him impious and wicked and a seducer, and a deceiver of many mortals, and one worthy to be hated by all; and when he had said this and much else more grievous against him, Apollonius answered him, saying: May the Lord have mercy on thee, my son, and reckon nothing of what thou hast said to thee as sin. When Philemon heard this he was pierced in heart, and felt the force of his words beyond the manner of men so deeply in his mind, that he suddenly confessed himself a Christian. And thence at once he flew to the tribunal of the judge, and, crying out in the sight of the whole people, said: Thou dost act unjustly, O judge of iniquity, in punishing religious men, beloved of God, for Christians neither do nor teach any evil.

But he, hearing this, at first supposed, as being a man of that place, that he proposed some jest. But when he saw him steadily persisting in this, and asserting it with all constancy, he said: Thou art mad, Philemon, and hast suddenly lost thy mind. But he said: I am not mad, but thou art a most unjust and most insane judge, who dost unjustly destroy so many just men. For I am a Christian, which is the best kind of men. Then he began before the people first to try to call him back, by many blandishments, to what he had known him to be; but when he saw him unmovable, he turned upon him every kind of torment. But when he learned that this change had come about in him from the words of Apollonius, he seized Apollonius also and subjected him to graver torments, and heaped upon him the charge of being a deceiver.

But Apollonius said to him: Would that thou too, O judge, and all who stand by and hear me, would follow this error and deception, as thou callest it, of mine. But he, when he heard this, ordered both him and Philemon to be given to the flames in the sight of the people. But after they had entered the flames, blessed Apollonius, in the hearing of all, cried out to the Lord, saying: Deliver not, O Lord, unto beasts the souls that confess to thee: but show us plainly thy salvation. When, therefore, Apollonius had spoken this to the Lord in the hearing of the people and the judge, suddenly a cloud full of dew surrounded the men, and quenched the flames of the kindled fire: at which the judge and the people, astonished, began all with one voice to cry out: Great is the God of the Christians, and he alone is one, he alone is immortal.

But when this had been reported to the Prefect of Alexandria, he became more savage than himself, and having chosen certain most cruel and savage men of his staff, not so much men as beasts, he sent them to bring bound to Alexandria both the judge himself, who had believed the divine wonders, and those through whom the power of God had appeared. So when all had been brought bound together, the grace of God assisted in the word, and Apollonius began to teach the faith of God to those who were leading them bound. And when these had believed the mercy of God, and had received the faith of God with the whole firmness of their heart, they offered themselves bound along with those whom they had come to bring, to the judge, and likewise professed themselves Christians. When the Prefect saw all these steadfast and unmovable in the faith of the Lord, he ordered all of them together to be sunk into the depth of the sea, the impious man not knowing what he was doing.

For this to the saints was not death, but Baptism. But their bodies, without doubt by the providence of God, were carried back whole and untouched by the wave of the sea to the shore, and, being received and recovered by those who had come together for that service, were placed together under one tomb: from whom, even to the present time, many miracles and wondrous signs are wrought for all, and the vows and prayers of all are received by them, and fulfilled with the fruit of the petition, whither the Lord has deigned to lead us also, and to fulfill our vows and prayers.

We saw also another venerable father in the Thebaid, named Dioscorus, a presbyter, having in his monastery nearly a hundred monks, whom, at the time when men approach the Sacraments, we observed to apply the utmost care and the utmost diligence, lest any of those who approached should bring any stain of conscience in any matter, to such a degree that he would even admonish them concerning those things which are wont to happen to men through dreams, or through phantasms of women appearing, or even through the abundance of natural humor. He said therefore: If indeed something of this kind should happen apart from the phantasms of women, it is not a sin; for the humor congenital to the body, when it has filled its own receptacles, must needs be discharged through its own channels, and therefore is not drawn into sin. But where the sight of women and the blandishments of the flesh occur, in this case he affirmed that indications are given that the desires of the soul are already occupied with such thoughts and allurements.

He said, therefore, that monks ought by every means to repel such phantasms from their thoughts, nor indulge their senses at all in these blandishments of the devil, otherwise there would seem to be no difference between them and those who live in the world. But monks must labor so that even the natural humor may be tamed and overcome through much abstinence in fasting and frequent prayers; and that they restrain its flowing weakness through the continuance of prayer and fasting. Finally, he said, even those who live in luxury, if perchance the sickness of their body demands it, abstain from all things which the physician has judged harmful; how much more, then, ought the monk to do this, for whom the health of soul and spirit is to be sought?

We came also to the place most famous among all the monasteries of Egypt, Nitria, which is distant from Alexandria about forty thousand paces, taking its name Nitria from the name of a neighboring village, in which natron is gathered, divine providence, I believe, foreseeing even then that in those places the sins of men should be washed away and abolished as if they were filth. In this place, then, there are seen almost fifty, or not much fewer, dwellings set near one another and placed under one father, in which some dwell together in numbers, some few, some even alone; and though some are separated in dwelling, yet in mind and faith and charity they remain joined and inseparable.

When, therefore, we were approaching this place, as soon as they perceived that pilgrim brethren were arriving, immediately, like a swarm of bees, each one rushed forth from his own cell, and hastened to meet us with joyful running and eager alacrity, very many of them carrying with them jars of water and loaves, according to what the Prophet, rebuking certain persons, says: "Because ye went not forth to meet the children of Israel with bread and water". Then, having received us, they lead us first, with Psalms, to the Church, wash our feet, and each one wipes them with the linen cloths they use, as if relieving the weariness of the journey, but in reality washing away the hardships of human life by mystical traditions.

What, then, shall I now say of their humanity, what of their offices, what of their charity, since all were eager each to bring us into his own cell, and not only to fulfill what is owed to hospitality, but besides to teach either of the humility in which they themselves excelled, or of gentleness and other such good things, which among them, as though they had been set apart from the world for this very purpose, are learned through diverse graces yet by one and the same teaching. Nowhere have we seen charity flourish so, nowhere have we seen the work of mercy so glow, and the zeal of hospitality so fulfilled. But of the meditation and understanding of the divine Scriptures, and of the exercises of divine knowledge, nowhere have we seen such practice, that you would believe almost each one of them to be an orator in divine wisdom.

After this place there is another in the inner desert, distant from it about ten thousand paces, which place, on account of the multitude of cells scattered in the wilderness, they have named "the Cells." To this place those who had first been trained there, and who wish now to lead a more secluded life, having laid aside their former garments, withdraw: for the desert there is vast, and the cells are separated from one another by such a space that they are placed neither within sight of one another nor within hearing of the voice. Each one dwells alone in his own cell; there is great silence and much quiet among them: only on the Sabbath day and the Lord's day do they come together to the Church, and there they see one another as though restored to heaven.

If perchance anyone should be absent from that assembly, they understand at once that he is detained by some bodily indisposition, and to visit him they go, not all together indeed, but all of them at different times, each one carrying with him, if he has anything, whatever might seem welcome to the sick man. For any other reason no one dares to disturb the silence of his neighbor, unless perhaps someone can instruct him by word, and, as it were, anoint with the consolation of speech those set as athletes in the contest. Many of them come from three or four thousand paces to the Church: so far apart from one another are their cells by the distance of their dwelling; but such is the charity among them, and by such affection are they bound together among themselves and toward all the brethren, that they are an object of admiration and example to all. Whence also, if anyone should wish to dwell with them, as soon as they perceive it, each one offers his own cell.

We saw among them a certain venerable father, named Ammonius, a man upon whom God had bestowed the whole fullness of spiritual graces. When you beheld the grace of charity in him, you would say you had never seen the like anywhere. But if you considered his humility, you would judge him far more excellent than others in this gift. And again, if you considered his patience, if his gentleness, if his kindness, you would judge that in each of these virtues he so excelled, that you would not know which one you ought to prefer to another. But the gift of wisdom and knowledge the Lord had bestowed upon him to such a degree that you would believe scarcely any of all the fathers had so penetrated the halls of the whole of knowledge; nor indeed had anyone, as all who had seen him confessed, been so received within the innermost chamber of the wisdom of God.

He had two brothers, Eusebius and Euthymius; for Dioscorus, who had been the eldest among them, was carried off to the office of the episcopate. These brothers, then, were akin to him not only in flesh but also in life and discipline and in the whole strength of soul; and all of them together used to comfort those brethren who dwelt in those places, as a nurse cherishes her own children, instructing each one, and teaching, striving to lead them to the highest perfection. We saw, then, the aforementioned man of God, Ammonius, having a monastery among them surrounded by a wall, which in those places is easily made large of baked bricks, and furnished with all necessary things, in which he himself had also dug a well. Now there came a certain brother, wishing to be saved under him, and he approached this same Ammonius, asking whether there might be some vacant cell in which he could dwell.

Then he said: "I will inquire, but until I find one, remain here in this monastery; for I myself will now go out to seek." And leaving to him everything together with the monastery, he himself found, far from that place, a very small cell, and settled himself in it, yielding entirely, with all that had been in it, the monastery to the brother who had newly arrived, who did not even realize it. But if there had been several who perchance wished to come and be saved, the aforesaid man, having gathered all the brethren together, would build a monastery in a single day, with all joyfully helping.

And when he had completed the number of monasteries for each one, those who were about to remain were invited to the Church, as if for the sake of refreshment; and while they were occupied there, each of the brethren, bringing forth from his own cell whatever things were necessary, furnished the new cells of each, so that, by the contribution of charity, nothing at all was lacking, either of utensils or of what is required for sustenance, yet the offering of each individual was not made known. Returning, then, in the evening, to the cells that had been prepared for them, they found all things necessary for use already placed there, and the dwellings so furnished that they perceived nothing at all was lacking.

We saw among them a good man among the elders, named Didymus, in whom there was much grace of the Lord, which even his countenance itself showed. This man used to trample under his feet scorpions and horned vipers—that is, the beasts they call horned—and serpents, which in those places, on account of the fierce heat of the sun, are held to be most venomous, as though they were mere little worms of the earth, and thus extinguish them, so that he suffered nothing at all from them.

We saw among them also another father of the greatest antiquity, named Cronius, enduring in a good old age and in perfect ripeness of years: for he was living out one hundred and ten years of age. This man still survived from among the disciples of blessed Antony; among whose other virtues of soul we saw an immense grace of humility.

There was also another still from among the disciples of Antony, named Origen, a man in every way magnificent, and of the greatest prudence, whose speech and narration concerning the virtues of that excellent master, the man of God, edified all who heard him, and inflamed them vehemently, so that you would think you saw with your eyes the things which he related.

We saw there also a most wise man, and in every way admirable, named Evagrius: to whom, among his other virtues of soul, so great a grace of discerning spirits and purifying (as the Apostle says) of thoughts was granted, that no other of the brethren was thought to have arrived at such a knowledge of subtle and spiritual matters. And although great understanding had been bestowed upon him by actual experience and trials, and (which is above all) through the grace of God, yet there was added to this also, that he had for a long time been instructed by the blessed Macarius, who is known to all to have been most famous in the grace of God, and distinguished by signs and virtues.

This Evagrius, then, was of incredible abstinence; yet above all he used to warn the brethren, if any perchance had zeal either for humbling the body or for driving away from it the phantasms of demons, not to use a more generous measure in drinking water; for he used to say: Because if the body is drenched with much water, it generates greater phantasms, and provides more ample receptacles for demons. But he also taught many other things about abstinence with the greatest deliberation. He himself, moreover, not only used water most sparingly, but abstained from bread entirely. But the other brethren who dwelt in those places were content with bread alone and salt, so that among all that multitude, you would scarcely find anyone who even used oil. And many of them took their sleep not lying down, but sitting, and (so to speak) set in the meditation of the divine words.

On the two macarii, And first, On macarius the egyptian, Or the elder.

Certain of the fathers who were there told us that in those places two Macarii had shone forth like two lights of heaven, of whom one was Egyptian by birth, and a disciple of blessed Antony, the other Alexandrian. To whom, as the names agreed, so also did the virtues of soul and the magnificence of heavenly graces correspond. For each Macarius, each equally excelling in the exercises of abstinence and in the virtues of the soul, was distinguished from the other in this one respect alone, that he possessed, as it were, the inheritance of the graces and virtues of blessed Antony.

Hence, finally, they report that once, when a homicide had been committed in the neighboring districts, and the crime committed was being charged upon a certain innocent man, the one who was suffering the calumny fled to his cell; those also were present who pressed the matter, alleging and saying that they themselves were in danger unless they handed over the murderer, once apprehended, to the laws. But the man upon whom the crime was being charged affirmed with oaths that he was not privy to that blood. And when the dispute had long been carried on by both sides, holy Macarius asked where he who was said to have been killed was buried. And when they had pointed out the place, he proceeded to the tomb with all who had come to press the charge against the man, and there, with knees bent and the name of Christ invoked, he said to those who stood by: Now the Lord will show whether this man, who is being pressed by you, is truly guilty.

And raising his voice, he called out the deceased by name. And when the one summoned had answered him from the tomb, he said to him: I adjure you by the faith of Christ, to say whether you were killed by this man, who suffers the calumny. Then he answered in a clear voice from the tomb, saying that he had not been slain by him. And when all, struck with amazement, had fallen to the ground and were rolling at his feet, they began to beg that he ask him by whom he had been killed. Then he said: This I will not ask; for it is enough for me that the innocent be freed; it is not my place that the guilty be exposed. Another kind of miracle of his was also reported. The virgin daughter of a certain householder in a nearby town appeared to men, through magical phantasms, transformed into an equine animal, so that she was thought to be a mare, and not a girl. They brought her to him.

Then, when he asked what they wanted, her parents said: This mare which your eyes see was a virgin girl and our daughter, but most wicked men, by magic arts, changed her into this animal which you see. We ask, therefore, that you pray to the Lord to change her back into what she was. But he said: I see this girl whom you show me, having nothing of a beast in herself; but what you say is not in her body, but in the eyes of those who look upon her. For these are the phantasms of demons, not the truth of things. And when he had brought her, with her parents, into his cell, he began, with knees bent, to pray to the Lord, and likewise asked the parents to entreat the Lord with him, and after this, anointing her with oil in the name of the Lord, with every deception of the sight expelled, he made her appear to all as a virgin, as she also appeared to herself.

Another, also a younger girl, was brought to him, whose private parts had so rotted away on every side that, the flesh being consumed, the interior parts also and the secrets of nature were laid bare, and from there an innumerable multitude of worms boiled forth, so that no one at all could even approach her because of the horror of the stench. When she had been brought by her parents and cast down before his door, pitying the maiden's torments, he said: Be of good courage, daughter; this the Lord has given you unto salvation, not unto destruction; whence it must the more be seen to, that your healing bring you no danger. And when he had persisted in prayers for seven continuous days, and, blessing oil, anointed her limbs with it in the name of the Lord, he restored her to such health that no form, no appearance of womanly nature appeared in her, but she had her converse among men, without any obstacle of suspicion regarding her sex.

They said further that once a certain heretic, a Hieracite—which kind of heresy is found in Egypt—came to him. This man, through much art of speaking, disturbed many of the brethren who dwelt in the desert, and dared even in his very presence to assert the depravity of his faith. When the elder resisted him, and he answered back, he eluded plain words with cunning arguments. But when the saint saw that the faith of the brethren was in danger, he said: What need is there for us to contend in words to the subversion of the hearers? Let us go out to the tombs of the brethren who have gone before us in the Lord; and to whichever of us the Lord shall grant to raise a dead man from the tomb, let all know that his faith is approved by God. This speech pleased all the brethren who were present. They went forth to the tombs, and Macarius urged the Hieracite to call forth a dead man in the name of the Lord.

But he said: You, master, who proposed this, call him forth first. And Macarius, prostrating himself in prayer before the Lord, when he had prayed sufficiently, lifting up his eyes, said to the Lord: Show, Lord, which of us two holds the right faith, by raising up this dead man. And when he had said this, he called out by name a certain brother who had recently been buried. And when he had answered him from the tomb, the brothers, coming up at once, took away what had been laid over him, and, drawing him out of the tomb, loosing the bands with which he was bound, showed him alive. But the Hieracite, when he saw this, struck with amazement, turned to flight. And all the brothers, pursuing him also, drove him out beyond the borders of that land. Many other things also were reported of him, which are too lengthy to write down; but from these few, his other works also may be known.

But another holy Macarius likewise accomplished magnificent virtues, of which others also have written not a little—which may suffice for beholding the greatness of his virtues, and therefore we pass over them briefly.

They said, however, that he was a lover of the desert beyond all others, so that he even searched out the farthest and inaccessible places of the wilderness, until he found a certain place set in the farthest parts of the desert, planted with various fruit-bearing trees, and filled with all good things: where he was also said to have found two brothers, whom, when he asked that they allow monks to be brought there to dwell, since indeed that place was both pleasant and abundant in all necessities, they answered that more could not be brought there, lest perhaps those coming through the desert should be deceived by demons. For they said there were many demons in the desert, and monsters, whose troubles and cunning a multitude unaccustomed to them could not bear. Yet, returning to the brethren, when he had reported on the opportuneness of the place, the minds of many were kindled to go there with him.

But when the rest of the fathers perceived the minds of the young men stirred up, they restrained them with more wholesome counsel, saying: If this place, as it is boasted, was truly planted by Jannes and Mambres, nothing else is to be believed of it, except that it was prepared by the work of the devil for our deception. For if it is truly, as they report, delightful and abundant, what shall we hope for in the age to come, if here we enjoy delights? And saying these and other such things, they restrained the fervent minds of the young men.

Now the place in which holy Macarius himself dwelt is called Scetis. It is situated in a very vast desert, a day and a night's journey from the monasteries of Nitria; and this is gathered or indicated by no path, nor by any earthly marks, but is traveled by the signs and courses of the stars. Water is rarely found, and wherever it is found, it is indeed of a most dreadful odor, and as it were bituminous, but harmless in taste. There are, then, men there very perfect (for so terrible a place does not suffer inhabitants unless of perfect purpose and utmost constancy), who nevertheless show the greatest zeal of charity among themselves and toward all who by chance come to them.

It is told, finally, that when someone once brought a bunch of grapes to holy Macarius, he, who according to charity thought not of his own things, but of another's, brought it to another brother, who seemed to be somewhat weaker. Then that one gave thanks to God for the brother's kindness, but he too, nonetheless, thinking more of his neighbor than of himself, brought it to another, and that one likewise to another, and so through all the cells, which were scattered far from one another throughout the desert, the grapes were carried around, none of them knowing who had first sent it; at last it was brought back to the very one who had sent it. And holy Macarius rejoiced that he had seen such great continence in the brethren, and such great charity, and extended himself to sharper exercises of the spiritual life.

For it has been confirmed to us for our faith, by those who had heard it from his own mouth, that at a certain time of night a demon knocked at the door of his cell, saying: Rise, Abba Macarius, and let us go to the assembly, where the brothers are gathered for the vigils. But he, who, filled with the grace of God, could not be deceived, understood it to be the devil's trickery, and said: O liar and enemy of truth! What fellowship, what association have you with the assembly and congregation of the saints? But he said: Does it then escape you, O Macarius, that no assembly is held, no congregation of monks, without us? Come, then, and you shall see our works. Then he said: May the Lord rebuke you, unclean demon. And turning to prayer, he asked of the Lord that He show him whether this was true, of which the demon had boasted.

He went, therefore, to the assembly, where the vigils were being celebrated by the brothers, and again in prayer besought the Lord to show him the truth of this word. And behold, he saw throughout the whole church, as it were certain little foul Ethiopian children running to and fro here and there, and being carried as it were by flying. Now the custom there is, all sitting, for a Psalm to be said by one, the rest either listening or responding. Those Ethiopian children, then, running about, sported with each one seated; and if they pressed anyone's eyes with two little fingers, he immediately dozed off; but if they thrust a finger into anyone's mouth, they made him yawn. But when, after the Psalm, the brothers had thrown themselves down to pray, they ran through each one nonetheless, and before one lying in prayer they appeared as it were in the likeness of women, before another as though building and carrying something, and appearing to do various other things.

And whatever the demons had shaped, as it were in play, these the ones praying turned over in the thought of their heart: yet from some, when they had begun to do any of this, they were repelled as if by a certain force, and cast down headlong, so that they dared not even stand at all, or pass by them; but upon others, even weaker brothers, they played upon their necks and backs, because they were not intent upon their prayer. When holy Macarius had seen these things, he groaned heavily, and pouring out tears to the Lord, said: Look, O Lord, and be not silent, nor be appeased, O God. Arise, that your enemies may be scattered, and that they may flee from your face; for our soul is filled with illusions.

After the prayer, however, for the sake of examining the truth, calling aside each of the brothers separately, before whose face he had seen the demons sporting in various guise and diverse images, he asked them whether in prayer they had had thoughts of building, or of making a journey, or other various things, whatever he had seen imagined for each by the demons: and each of them confessed that it had been so in his heart, just as he charged them; and then it was understood that all vain and superfluous thoughts, which anyone conceives either at the time of the psalms or of the prayers, come from the illusion of demons: but from those who guard their heart with all watchfulness, the foul Ethiopians are driven back. For a mind joined to God, and intent upon Him especially at the time of prayer, receives nothing foreign, nothing superfluous.

He added also another thing, much more terrible, which he said he had seen at that time when the brothers were approaching the sacraments. When they had held out their palms to receive, he saw the Ethiopians, in the hands of some, getting there first, laying down coals, while the Body, which seemed to be handed over into the hands of the priest, returned to the altar; but for others, whom the merits of their better lives assisted, as they stretched out their hands to the altar, the demons withdrew far off, and fled with great fear: for he perceived an Angel of the Lord standing by the altar, who, together with the priest's hand, also placed his own hand upon the distribution of the Sacraments.

From this time forward this grace remained with him from God, that at the vigils of the brothers, at the time of the psalms and prayer, if anyone had thought anything else in his heart according to the illusion of demons, he would recognize it, and neither the unworthiness nor the merits of those approaching the altar would be hidden from him.

At a certain time, both the Macarii, men of God, while making a journey for the sake of visiting a certain brother, boarded a ship, in which one is accustomed to cross the river; on this ship there were also certain tribunes, wealthy and very powerful men, having with them very many horses and boys, and many attendants. One of these, seeing at the far end of the ship monks lying in cheap clothing, ready for anything, said to them: Blessed are you, who mock this world, and require nothing from it except the vilest clothing and the most meager food. Then one of the Macarii answered him: True indeed, as you say, that those who follow God mock the world; but we pity you, because on the contrary the world mocks you. Then he, stung with compunction at this saying, as soon as he arrived at his house, having abandoned or sold off all that he had, and given it to the poor, himself began to follow God, and hastened to the exercises of the monks.

But also many other marvelous things, as we have said, are reported concerning the works of holy Macarius of Alexandria, of which some have been inserted into the eleventh book of the Ecclesiastical History; whoever seeks will find them there.

The beginning indeed of the habitation of the monasteries which are in Nitria is reported to have been taken from a certain Ammon, whose soul (when it had departed from the body) St. Antony saw being carried up to heaven, as that writing relates which describes the Life of blessed Antony. This Ammon, then, was born of wealthy and well-born parents, by whom he was, against his will, compelled to marriage. And since he could not escape the force of his parents, having received the maiden, when they had come together within the marriage chamber, and the secret silence of the bedroom had been given to them, he spoke to the girl about chastity, and began to exhort her concerning the preservation of virginity, saying: Because corruption without doubt finds corruption, but incorruption hopes for incorruption. It is therefore much better, if each of us should persevere in virginity, than that one should be corrupted by the other. The maiden agrees with him; the treasure of incorruption is covered by silence.

And when for a very long time, content with the testimony of God alone, they were joined more in spirit than in flesh and blood, after the death of both parents, he indeed withdrew to a place near the desert, while the maiden, remaining within the house, in a short time gathered multitudes of virgins, just as he gathered multitudes of monks.

And when he was now sitting apart in the wilderness, a certain young man, who had been turned to rabies by the bite of a mad dog, was brought to him bound with many chains, his parents following him and begging on his behalf. But he said to them: Why do you trouble me, O men? What you ask is beyond my merits; nevertheless I can indicate this to you, that his health is in your hands. Restore to the widow her ox, which you have stolen, and your son will be restored to you healthy. But they feared greatly, that the things done in secret had not escaped the man of God's notice. Yet they rejoiced, that he showed them this way of salvation, and without delay, as they restored what had been plundered, at the prayer of the man of God, health was restored even to the young man.

At another time also, when certain men had come to him, wishing to test their minds, he said that a cask was necessary for him, in which he might collect water for those coming. And when they had promised that they would carry it, one of them considered it too heavy for himself, saying that his camel might be endangered if he placed so heavy a burden upon it. And he said to the other: You, if you wish or are able, carry it; I spare my camel lest it die. Then the other said: I, as you yourself know, do not have a camel, but a donkey. Can a donkey carry what a camel is not able to carry? But he said: Do as you wish; that is your concern; for I will not kill my camel. Then the other said: I will place upon my donkey the weight which you say is too heavy for your camel, and the merits of the man of God will make what is impossible, possible.

And so, the cask having been placed upon his donkey, he proceeded even to the monastery of the man of God, so that the donkey did not even feel that it was carrying any burden. When Ammon saw him, he said, You have done well in carrying the cask on the donkey; for your companion's camel has died. And upon returning he found it to have happened just as the servant of God had foretold. But also many other signs did the Lord show through him. For when he wished to cross the river Nile, and was ashamed to strip himself, it is said that by the power of God he was suddenly carried to the other bank. Blessed Antony, moreover, is remembered to have held the righteousness and virtues of his soul in the highest admiration.

There was a certain man among the disciples of St. Antony, named Paul, surnamed the Simple. His beginning of conversion was of this kind. When he had seen with his own eyes his wife lying with an adulterer, saying nothing to anyone, he left the house, and, struck with sadness of soul, gave himself over to the wilderness, where, as he wandered anxiously, he came to the monastery of Antony, and there, from the admonition and opportunity of the place, formed a plan. And when he had come to Antony, to seek from him the way of salvation, Antony, perceiving the man to be of simple nature, answered him, that he could only be saved in this way, if he obeyed the things that would be told to him by him. Then he replied that he would do whatever he might command him. Therefore, to test his promise, Antony said to him as he stood before the door of the cell: Wait here for me, praying, until I come out.

And Antony, going out, remained inside for the whole day and the whole night; yet through the window, looking out repeatedly in secret, he saw him praying unceasingly, and moving from his place not at all, but standing in the heat of the day and the dew of the night, and thus mindful of the command, that he did not move even a little from the place. But going out the next day, Antony began to instruct and teach him about each thing, how he might console his solitude with the work of his hands: and with the fingers of the body indeed he should perform the fleshly work, but with the understanding of the mind and the intention of the soul he should perform the things that are of God. He also directed him to take food in the evening; but to observe that he never come to satiety, and especially in drink: affirming that no less through abundance of water fantasies of the mind arise, than through wine the heat of the body increases.

And when he had fully instructed him how he ought to conduct himself in each thing, he established for him a cell nearby, that is, three miles from himself, and there bade him practice what he had learned; he himself, however, visiting frequently, rejoiced, finding him remaining with all intention and care in the things that had been handed down to him.

Now on a certain day, when brothers had come to holy Antony, great and perfect men indeed, it happened that Paul also was present together with them. And when discourse was being held about deep and mystical matters, and much was being discussed concerning the Prophets and the Savior, Paul, out of simplicity of soul, asked whether Christ existed before, or the Prophets? Blessed Antony, as if ashamed on account of his having asked so absurd a question, with a gentle nod, as he was accustomed toward the more simple, bade him keep silent and depart. And he, since he had resolved to keep whatever had been said to him as if it were a command of God, departing to his cell, resolved to keep silence, as though he had received a command, and to say absolutely nothing. When Antony learned this, he began to wonder whence this observance had pleased him, which he knew he had not commanded.

And when he had bidden him to speak, and to declare why he was silent, Paul said to him, You, Father, said that I should go and be silent. And Antony, astonished that a word which he had uttered carelessly should be so observed by him, said: This man condemns us all: for while we do not listen to one speaking to us from heaven, whatever word, of whatever kind, has fallen from our mouth is observed by this man. Yet holy Antony also, wishing to teach him much about obedience, was accustomed to command him even things which reason and cause did not demand, in which the disposition of his soul toward obedience might be tested.

For at one time he bade him draw water from a well and pour it all out on the ground for a whole day; and to undo baskets that had been woven and weave them again, and to unstitch a garment and stitch it again, and again to undo it, and he is recorded to have been trained by him in many such exercises of this kind, so that in absolutely nothing, even of those things which were commanded contrary to reason, did he learn to contradict, and thus, formed through all these things, he came in a short time to perfection.

From his example blessed Antony used to teach, that if anyone wishes to arrive quickly at perfection, he should not make himself his own master, nor obey his own wills, even if what he wishes should seem right, but should observe according to the command of the Savior, that before all things each one should deny himself to himself, and renounce his own wills, since the Savior himself also said: I have come, not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me. And indeed the will of Christ was not contrary to the will of the Father; but he who had come to teach obedience would not be found obedient, if he did his own will. How much more, then, shall we not be judged disobedient, if we do our own wills?

Finally, the aforesaid Paul is an example to us, who by the merit of obedience and simplicity ascended to such a height of spiritual graces, that the Lord worked through him many more and more powerful virtues than through Antony himself, in the second place. And since, on account of the abundance of graces, many flocked to him from all parts of the earth, to be healed by him, blessed Antony, fearing lest he should be driven away by the trouble of the crowd, caused him to dwell in the interior wilderness, where he could not easily be reached by anyone, so that Antony himself might rather receive those who came. But if there were any whom he himself could not heal, these he sent to Paul, as one having a more abundant grace of healings, and they were healed by him.

It is reported that such was the confidence of his simplicity before the Lord, that at a certain time, when a certain man suffering from rabies was tearing, in the manner of a dog, anyone who dared to approach him, and had been brought to him, he persisted in prayer, that he might drive away the demon that was afflicting him. And when there was delay, and a swift effect did not follow, he is reported to have said to the Lord, indignant like a child: Truly I will not eat today, if you do not heal him, and immediately, as if to satisfy a spoiled master, it was granted by God; and at once the rabid man was healed.

It does not seem fitting to me to pass over in silence, also, the inhabitants of the desert which lies along the Parthenian sea, and is near the town called Diolcus. Among them we saw a certain admirable Presbyter, by name Piammon, a man of complete humility and kindness, having also the grace of revelations. Once, when he was offering sacrifice to the Lord, he saw an angel of the Lord standing beside the altar, writing in a book which he held in his hands the names of each of the monks approaching the altar, yet not writing the names of certain ones. And when the elder had carefully observed who they were whose names he had not written, after the mysteries were completed, calling each of them aside separately, he inquired what secret sin had been committed by them: and he found, from their confession, that each of them was guilty of a mortal sin.

Then he exhorted them to do penance, and, prostrating himself with them before the Lord, wept day and night as if he himself were guilty of their sins, and remained so long with them in penance and tears, until he again saw the same Angel standing and writing the names of those approaching. And after he had written the names of all, then also calling out those by name, and inviting them to the reconciliation of the altar. When the elder saw this, he understood that their penance had been accepted: and thus he restored them to the altar with full rejoicing. It is also related that at a certain time he was so beaten by demons that he could neither stand nor move at all from his place. And when the Lord's Day arrived, and it was necessary that the sacrifice be offered, he ordered himself to be carried to the altar by the hands of the brothers.

There, when he had lain in prayer, he immediately saw the Angel of the Lord standing beside him, who was accustomed to stand at the altar, and, extending his hand to him, and raising him from the ground, at once all pain departed from him so completely, that he was restored more healthy than usual.

There was in those very places a holy man, filled with the gift of every grace, John by name, in whom there was so great a grace of consolation, that with whatever sadness, with whatever weariness a soul had been oppressed, by a few words of his it would be filled with cheerfulness and joy. But also very great grace of healings was granted him by the Lord.

In very many other places of Egypt also we saw, scattered here and there, holy men of God, working many virtues and wonders, and full of every grace of God, but of the many we have recorded only a few. To set forth all of them, indeed, is beyond our powers.

1. For concerning those who are said to dwell in the upper Thebaid, that is, around Syene itself, we learned only by hearsay, that they were held to be loftier and more magnificent than almost all those whom we saw. But we were not able to approach them, because of the danger of the journey; for although all the places of those parts are infested by robbers, yet those which lie beyond the city of Lycus even suffer from barbarians. And therefore we had no access to them, since indeed we did not even see those whom we mentioned above without danger.

For seven times on this journey we were in peril, but on the eighth, as it is written, Evil did not prevail against us, God protecting us in all things. Finally, once, going for five days and nights through the desert, we were in peril from thirst and weariness.

2. At another time also we came upon a place in which there is a certain valley, producing of itself a salty moisture, which the heat of the sun immediately binds into salt, just as winter frost binds water into ice, and out of that salt makes, as it were, sharp stakes; and thus all those places become so rough that they pierce and cut not only bare feet, such as we had, but even feet protected with shoes. Found in these straits, therefore, we scarcely escaped with great peril.

3. Thirdly, when nonetheless we were going on through the desert, we came upon a certain valley, likewise producing moisture out of itself, but keeping it within itself, whose floor, filled with rocks and foul mud, we desired to cross, and sank down to our sides. And when we were nearly being swallowed up in the very same spot, crying out to the Lord, we uttered the words of the Psalm, saying: Save me, O God, for the waters have come in even unto my soul. I am stuck fast in the mire of the deep, and there is no sure standing.

4. We endured a fourth danger in certain waters which had remained from the flooding of the Nile, in which, afflicted for three days continuously, we were scarcely able to escape.

5. The fifth danger was to us from robbers, when we were traveling along the sea, who, pursuing us for ten miles, since they could not kill us with the sword, rendered us nearly lifeless through flight.

6. The sixth peril was to us on the Nile river itself, in which, sailing, we were nearly drowned.

7. The seventh, on the lagoon which is called by the name of Mary, when the wind raged, we were cast up onto a certain island, with a most severe winter storm and tempest raging over us. For it was the time when the days of Epiphany are celebrated.

8. The eighth was this: that when we were coming to the monasteries of Nitria, we came upon a certain place, in which the receding water of the Nile, settling, had made as it were a kind of pool, in which there were many beasts, especially very many crocodiles. When these had come out at the time of sunshine, they lay relaxed around the edge of the pool, so that, we being unaware, they seemed dead.

And when we approached to see and marvel at the size of the beasts, which we thought lifeless, as soon as they perceived the sound of footsteps, they were roused, and began to rush upon us and pursue us fiercely. But we, with a great cry and groan, invoked the name of Christ the Lord, whose mercy was present, and the beasts which had risen up against us were, as if by a repelling angel, immediately cast back into the pool, and we, with hastened course, hurried to the monasteries, giving thanks to our God, who delivered us from such great dangers, and showed us such great wonders. To him be glory and honor forever and ever. Amen.