VITA ST. ANTONI (THE LIFE OF ST. ANTONY -- WRITTEN BETWEEN 356 AND 362)
VITA S. ANTONI
(WRITTEN BETWEEN 356 AND 362)
THE Life of St. Antony is included in the present collection partly on
account of the important influence it has exercised upon the development of the
ascetic life in the Church, partly and more especially on the ground of its
strong claim to rank as a work of Athanasius. If that claim were undisputed, no
apology would be needed for its presence in this volume. If on the other hand its
spurious and unhistorical character had been finally demonstrated, its insertion
would be open to just objections. As it is, the question being still in
dispute, although the balance of qualified opinion is on the side of the Athanasian
authorship, it is well that the reader should have the work before him and judge
for himself. To assist his judgment, it will be attempted in the following
paragraphs to state the main reasons on either side. In doing so, I can honestly
disclaim any bias for or against the Vita, or monasticism. Monasticism, with all
its good and evil, is a great outgrowth of human life and instinct, a great
fact in the history of the Christian religion; and whether its origin is to be
put fifty years earlier or later (for that is the net value of the question at
issue) is a somewhat small point relatively to the great problems which it offers
to the theologian, the historian, and the moralist. But the point is at any
rate worthy of careful and dispassionate examination. In attempting this, while
holding no brief for either side, I may as well at once state my opinion on the
evidence, namely that, genuine as are many of the difficulties which surround
the question, the external evidence for the Vita is too strong to allow us to
set it aside as spurious, and that in view of that evidence the attempts to give
a positive account of the book as a spurious composition have failed.
1. BIBLIOGRAPHY. a. Sources. The only reference to Antony in other writings of Athanasius is in Hist. Ar.
14. See also Fest. Index x. Vita Pachomii in Act. SS. Mai., Tom. iii. Appx.
(written late in the fourth century, but by a person who had known Pachomius).
Coptic fragments and documents (for early history of Egyptian monasticism with
occasional details about Antony) in Zoega, Catalogus codd. Copticorum, (Rome,
1810), Mingarelli, Codd. copticorum reliquioe, (Bologna, 1785), Revillout, Rapport
sur une mission, etc. (in Archives des Missions scientifiques a litteraires,
3,eserie, 1879, vol. 4), Amielineau, Hist. de S. Pakhome, &c. (Annales du Musee
Guimet, vol. xvii. Paris, 1889).
b. Modern discussions. Since the Reformation the general tendency of protestant writers has been to
discredit, of Roman Catholics to maintain the authority of the Vita. To the
former class belong the Magdeburg Centuriators, Rivet, Basnage, Casimir Oudin; to
the latter, Bellarmin, Noel Alexandre, and above all Montfaucon in the
Benedictine edition of Athanasius (especially in the Vita Athanasii, Animadversio II.
in Vitam et Scripta S.A., and the Monitum in Antonii Vitam, which latter may
still claim the first rank in critical discussions of the problem). We may add, as
more or less unbiassed defenders of the Vita, Cave (Hist. Lit. i. 193), and
Tillemont (Mem. vol. vii.). All the above belong to the period before 1750. In
more recent times the attack has been led by Weingarten (Ursprung des Monchtums
in nachkonst. zeitalter, reprinted in 1877 from Zeitschrift fur K.G. 1876, and
in Herzog, vol. x. pp. 758 sqq.), followed by Gass (in Ztsch. K.G. II. 274),
and Gwatkin (Studies, &c. pp. 98--103). Israel, in Zeitsch. Wiss. Theol. 1880, p.
130, &c., characterises Weingarten's attack on the Vita as 'too bold.' Keim
(Aus dem Urchr. 207 sqq.) and Hilgenfeld (in Zeitsch. f. Wiss. Theol. 1878) put
the book in the lifetime of Ath. without absolutely pronouncing for him as the
author, while Hase (J. Prot. Th. 1880), Harnack (especially in Th. Ltz. xi. 391,
see also 'Das Monchtum' u.s.w., Giessen, 1886), Moller, Lehrb. der K.G. i.
372, and Eichhorn ('Athanasii de vita ascetica testimania,' Halle, 1886, the most
convincing discussion of recent date, and indispensable) decide without
hesitation in its favour. The discussion of Bornemann (In investigando monachatus
origine, quibus de causis ratio habenda sit Origenis, Leipzig, 1885) may also be
mentioned as bearing on the general subject; also the articles 'Monastery,'
'Coenobium,' and 'Hermits' in D.C.A. The article 'Antony' in D.C.B. passes over the
question without discussion, excepting the trite, but untenable, statement that
the Vita 'is probably in interpolated.' Farrar (Lives of the Fathers, and
Contemp. Review, Nov. 1887) follows Gwatkin. Picturesque representations of Antony
(from the Vita) in Kingsley's Hermits and Newman's Historical Sketches, vol. 2.
2. EXTERNAL EVIDENCE AS TO AUTHORSHIP AND DATE. This is given by Montfaucon in the Monitum and reproduced by Eichhorn, pp. 36
sqq.
i. The Version of Evagrius. Evagrius, presbyter (Eustathian) and subsequently (388) Bishop at Antioch (in
Italy 364--373), translated the Vita Antanii into Latin. He prefaced with a
short apology (see below, Vit. Ant. 1, note 1) for the freedom of his rendering,
addressed 'Innocentio carissimo filio.' Now this Innocent, the friend of Jerome
and Evagrius, died in the summer of 374, almost exactly a year after the death
of Athanasius (D.C.B. iii. 3 251). Of this identification there is no reason
to doubt; still less ground is there for the hesitation (Hist. Lit. 1. 283, 'non
una est dubitandi ratio') of Cave and others as to the identity of the
version, printed by Montfaucon and transmitted by very numerous MSS. ('quae ingenti
numero vidi,' Migne xxv. p. clviii.) with that actually made by Evagrius.
Therefore, even if we make the two very improbable assumptions that the Dedication to
Innocentius falls within a few weeks or days of his death (i.e. during the
journey from Italy to Syria!), and that the Vita was translated by Evagrius almost
immediately upon its composition, the composition of the Vita falls within a
few months of the death of Athanasius. Its antiquity then 'is fully conceded'
even by Mr. Gwatkin (Studies, p. 103, who yet, p. 98, puts it down to 'the
generation after Athanasius!'). The translation of Evagrius also preserves what looks
like the original heading It should be added that the Evagrian version (read in
the light of its preface), entirely excludes the hypothesis that the Greek
text of the Vita is interpolated.Evagrius avowedly abridges at times, while in
some cases he embellishes (see 82, note
ii. Jerome wrote his Vita Pauli in the Syrian desert, between 374 and 379. He
mentions both the Vita and its Latin Version in the prologue: if he had seen the latter he can scarcely have been ignorant of its heading.
The non-mention of Athanasius as the author is an argumentum ex silentio of the
most precarious kind. Some fifteen years later (de Script Eccles. 87, 88, 125)
he repeatedly mentions Athanasius as the author, and specifies Evagrius as the
translator.
iii. Ephrem the Syrian (Opp. ed. 1732--43, 1. p. 249) quotes 'Saint'
Athanasius by name as the biographer of Antony. Ephrem died in 373. But little stress can be laid upon this testimony, in
view of the lack of a critical sifting of the works which bear the name of this
saint (so Tillemont viii. 229, and vii. 138). More important is:
iv. Gregory Naz. Or. 21, 'Athanasius compiled the biography of the divine Antony
<greek>tou</greek> <greek>monadikou</greek> <greek>biou</greek> <greek>nomoqesian</greek>
<greek>en</greek> <greek>plasmti</greek> <greek>dihghsews</greek> (cf Vita,
Prologue). This oration was delivered in 380, seven years after the death of
Athanasius. Gregory, it is true, is not a good judge on a point of criticism. But he
expresses the opinion of his time, and confirms and is confirmed by the evidence
of Evagrius and Jerome.
v. Rufinus, Hist. Eccl. I. viii. He would give an account of Antony, but 'ille libellus exclusit qui ab
Athanasio scriptus etiam Latino Sermone editus est.' This was written 400 A.D.: if in
a later work (Hist. Mon. 30, and see also 29) he happens to allude to the Vita
without mentioning its author, we are not entitled to say that to Rufinus 'the
work is anonymous' (Gwatkin, p. 103).
vi. The Life of Pachomius, which (as above mentioned) has details of Antony's
life independent of the Vita, also mentions the latter (c. 1) as the work of
Athanasius. Though written perhaps as late as 390, this document is of great weight as
evidence in the case (see Kroger in Theol. Ltzg. 1890, p. 620).
vii. Paulinus in his prologue to the Life of Ambrose (after 400) refers to the
Vita as written by Athanasius.
viii. Fifth-century historians, Palladius, Hist. Laus. 8, Socrates (H. E., i.
21) Sozomenus (i. 13) attest the established tradition of their day at
Athanasius was the author of the Life.
ix. Augustine (Conf. viii. 14, 15, 19, 29) and Chrysostom (Hom. 8 on S.
Matthew) mention the Vita without giving the name of the author. But we are not entitled to cite them as witnesses to its (alleged) anonymity,
which they neither affirm nor imply.
The above witnesses, all of whom excepting No. viii. come within 50 years
of the death of Athanasius, are a formidable array. No other work of Athanasius
can boast of such external evidence in its favour. And in the face of such
evidence it is impossible to place the composition later than the lifetime of the
great Bishop. We have therefore to ask whether the contents of the Vita are in
irreconcileable conflict with the result of the external evidence: whether they
point, not indeed to a later age, for the external evidence excludes this, but
to an author who during the lifetime of Athanasius (i.e. not later than the
year of his death) ventured to publish a hagiographic romance in his name
('Evagrian' heading, and 71, 82).
3. Internal Evidence. It may be remarked in limine that for the existence of Antony there is not
only the evidence of the Vita itself, but also that of many other fourth-century
documents (see above 1. a. under 'sources'). Weingarten quite admits this
(R.E., X. 774, but he implies the contrary in his Zeiltafein, ed. 3, P. 228); and
Mr. Gwatkin is certainly far ahead of his evidence when he pronounces (Arian
Controversy, p. 48) that Antony 'never existed.'
a. Origin and early history of Monasticism. According to the Vita, the desert was unknown to <greek>monacoi</greek>
(solitary ascetics) at the time (about 275? Vit. 3) when Antony first adopted the
ascetic life. About the year 285 he began his twenty years' sojourn in the ruined
fort. To the end of this sojourn belongs the first great wave of Monastic
settlement in the desert. During the later part of the great persecution
'monasteries' and monks begin to abound ( 44, 46). The remainder of his long life
(311--356) is passed mainly in his 'inner mountain,' where he forms the head and
centre of Egyptian monasticism. Now it is contended by Weingarten and his followers
that the Vita is contradicted in this important particular by all the real
evidence as to the origin of monasticism, which cannot be proved to have originated
before the death of Constantine. But Eichhorn has I think conclusively shewn
the hastiness of this assumption. Passing over the disputable evidence of the De
Vita Contemplativa ascribed to Philo, (which Weingarten endeavours, against
Lucius and others, to put back to a date much earlier than the third century and
out of relation to Christian asceticism(1)), the writings of Athanasius himself
are the sufficient refutation of the late date assigned to the rise of
monachism.
In the writings of the supposed date (356--362) of the Vita, references to
monks are very frequent (e.g. Apol. Fug. 4, Apol. Const. 29): but previous to
this (339) we find them mentioned in Encyl. 3, and yet earlier, Apol. Ar. 67
(see below). In the letter to Dracontius (Letter 49 in this vol.), corporate
monasticism is implied to be no novel institution. Dracontius himself (about 354)
is president of a monastery, and many other similar communities are referred
to. (Gwatkin deals with this letter in an unsatisfactory fashion, p. 102, see the
letter itself, 7, 9, and notes.) The letter to Amun, probably earlier than
that just mentioned, is clearly (sub. fin.) addressed to the head of a monastic
society. Again, the bishops Muis and Paulus of Letter 49, 7, who were monks
before their consecration, had been in the monastery of Tabennae before the death
of Pachomius, which occurred almost certainly in 346 (Eichhorn 12, 13. The
whole history of Pachomius, who was only a year or two older than Athanasius,
although personally but little known to him, his monastery being at Tabennae, an
island near Philae, is in conflict with Weingarten's theory). Lastly(2) one of the
most characteristic and life-like of the documents relating to the case of
Arsenius and the Council of Tyre, namely the letter of Pinnes to John Arcaph
(Apol. Ar. 67) carries back the evidence earlier still. Pinnes is 'presbyter of a
monastery' (<greek>monh</greek>): that <greek>monh</greek> here means a society
of monks, and not a posting station (Weing. in R. E.,X. p. 775) is clear from
the mention of 'Helias the monk,' and 'I, Paphnutius, monk of the same
monastery.' This letter proves that there were not only Catholic but Meletian monks, and
these not hermits but in societies: and thus the origin of the solitary type of
monasticism goes back as far as the Meletian schism. (The existence of
Meletian monks is attested independently of this letter, see Eich. p. 347.) Weingarten
is quite unable to deal with this obstacle to his theory. His argument is
simply this: either the letter has nothing to do with monks and monasteries (he
overlooks Paphnutius), or it must be rejected as spurious! What reductio ad
absurdum could be more complete? In an equally desperate way he deals with the clear
evidence of Aphraates, Hom. vi., as to the existence of (at any rate) solitary
monasticism in Eastern Syria as early as 336.
See Texte und Untersuchungen iii. 3, pp. xvi. 89, &c. (Leipzig, 1888.)
b. Historical misstatements. i. It is better to include under this head rather than under the last the
title ad peregrinos fratres. Who were the 'foreign monks' (<greek>tous</greek> <greek>en</greek>
<greek>th</greek> <greek>xenh</greek> <greek>monacous</greek>)? The introduction of
monasticism into the West seems to belong to the time of S. Ambrose (Aug. Conf.
viii. 6, cf. Sozom. III. 14, 'the European nations [before 361] had no experience
of monastic societies') or rather Martin of Tours (D.C.B. iii. p. 840). The
statement (Encycl. Brit. 'Monachism') that Athanasius carried the Vita antonii to
Rome in 340 is based on a misunderstanding of Jerome (Ep. 127), who really says
no more than that the existence of monachism in Egypt first became known at
Rome from the visits of Athanasius and of his successor Peter. If then the
'peregrini fratres' are to be looked for in the West, we have a serious difficulty,
and must choose between the Vita and Sozomen. But the foreign monks may have
belonged to the East. (I cannot see that 93 'assumes,' as Mr. Gwatkin maintains,
'the existence of numerous monks in the West.' What is said is simply that
Antony had been heard of---<greek>hkousqh</greek>---in Spain, Gaul, and Africa.)
However, the point must be left uncertain, and so far allowed to weigh against
the Vita.
ii. Early intercourse of Athanasius with Antony (Prologue, and note 2). If the Benedictine text is correct, the reference
must be to the period before Athanasius became deacon to Bishop Alexander, in fact
to a period previous to 318 A.D. Tillemont (viii. 652), who maintains the
other reading, mainly relies upon the impossibility of finding room for the
intercourse in question in the early life of Athanasius. But his only source of
knowledge of that period is Rufinus, a very poor authority, and Montfaucon replies
with some force (Animadv. 11) that we have no sufficient information as to how
Athanasius passed the years previous to his ordination by Alexander. He also
suggests that Athanasius may have been one of those who followed Antony's example (
46, of. Apol. c. Ar. 6) after his first visit to Alexandria. I may add that
the notes to the Vita will call attention to several points of contact between
the teaching of Antony and the earliest treatises of Athanasius. Yet the
impression left on the mind is here again one of uncertainty (cf. Prolegg. ch. ii. 1
fin.).
iii. The narrative about Duke Balacius (86: see note there) is another genuine difficulty, only to be got over if we
suppose either that Athanasius in one place tells the story inaccurately, and
corrects himself in the other, or that the Hist. Arian. was partly written for
Athanasius by a secretary.
iv. Supposed learning of Antony. His ignorance of letters and of the Greek language does not prevent his
forcibly employing the most effective arguments against Arianism (69), vindicating
the Incarnation (74) much in the manner of Athanasius, and above all showing a
fair acquaintance (72--74) with Platonic philosophy (see notes there). But
everything in the biography points to a man of robust mind, retentive memory(3) and
frequent intercourse with visitors. If he were so, he can scarcely have been
ignorant of the theological controversies of his day, or of the current
philosophical ideas. Nor can I see that the philosophy of his argument against the
Greeks goes beyond what that would imply. His allusion to Plato does not look like a
first-hand citation. And even an Athanasius would not so entirely rise out of
the biographical habits of his day as to mingle nothing of his own with the
speeches of his hero ('Equidem quid Antonio quid Athanasio tribuendum sit uix
diiudicari posse concedo,' Eich. p. 52).
c. Inconsistencies with Athanasius. It is the most serious objection to the Athanasian authorship of the Vita
that Athanasius (with the exception of the 'antilegomenon' Hist. Ar. 14) nowhere
else mentions Antony by name. Especially in the letter to Dracontius, who at
first refused the Episcopate in the supposed interests of his soul, we might, it
is argued, have expected a reference to the deep reverence of Antony ( 67) for
even the lowest clergy (the persons enumerated, Letter 49, 7, are bishops who
had previously been monks, and have nothing to do with this question). That is
true. We might have expected it. But as a matter of fact Athanasius uses another
argument instead (see Letter 49, 3, note 8 (a)). It does not follow that he
did not know of the Antony of the Vita. But although the letter in question has
been pressed unduly, the general objection, as an argumentum ex silentio on a
rather large scale, remains(3).
Some more detailed points must now be considered.
a. Demons and Miracles. The writings of Athanasius are singularly free from the tendency to indulge
in the marvellous. The death of Arius he regards as a judgment, and relates it
with a certain awe-struck sobriety. The <greek>Fhmh</greek> of Julian's death in
the Narrat. ad Ammon. comes less under the head of ecclesiastical miracle than
under that of <greek>qeia</greek> <greek>twn</greek> <greek>prhgwatwn</greek>
(Herod. ix.100, cf. Grote v. 260 sq.); whereas the Vita swarms with miraculous
and demoniacal stories, some (passed over in silence by Newman and other
apologists for the Life) indescribably silly (e.g. 53, 63). Hence even Cave allows
that the Vita contains things 'tanto viro indigna.' But it must be observed(1)
that Antony disclaims, and his biographer disclaims for him, inherent miraculous
power. His miracles are wrought by Christ in answer to prayer, and he prefers
that those who desire his help should obtain what they want by praying for
themselves (cf. also 49).(2) That again and again (esp. 16--43) he insists on the
absolute subjection of all evil powers to God, and their powerlessness to injure
believers in Christ.(3) That Athanasius recognises <greek>shmeia</greek> (in
the sense of miracles, see Letter 49, 9, note 9) as a known phenomenon in the
case both of bishops and of monks.(4) That his language about demons and the
power of the sign of the Cross in dispersing them is quite of a piece with what is
related in the Vita (see notes passim).(5) On the clairvoyance of Antony, and
one or two kindred matters which offer points of contact with phenomena that
have been recently the subject of careful research, notes will be found below
giving modern references. On the whole, one could wish that Athanasius, who is in
so many ways surprisingly in touch with the modern mind (supra, introd. to de
Incar and Prolegg. ch. iv. 2 d and 3), had not written a biography revealing
such large credulity. But we must measure this credulity of his not by the
evidential methods of our own day, but by those of his own. If we compare the Vita,
not with our modern biographies but with those, say, of Paul and Hilarion by
Jerome, its superiority is striking (this is pointed out by W. Israel in Zeitschr
fur Wiss. Theol. 1878, pp. 130, 137, 145, 153). For myself I should certainly
prefer to believe that Athanasius had not written many things in the Vita: but
I would far rather he had written them all than the one passage Hist. Ar. 38
fin.
b. Theology. That there should be certain characteristic differences from the theology of
Athanasius is what one would expect in an account of Antony that bore any
relation to the historical person. Such is the anthropomorphic tendency, shewn
especially in the corporeal nature ascribed to demons. Such perhaps is a tinge of
naive semi-pelagianism about the Hermit's language ( 20 and elsewhere); we cannot
forget the connection of Cassian's Collations with Egyptian monasticism. Once
again, 'Antony's shame of the body is not in the spirit of the writer ad
Amunem' (Gwatkin, Studies, p. 102). Lastly, in Antony's account of the heathen gods
(76) we miss the characteristic Euhemerism of Athanasius (see supra, pp. 10, 62,
&c.). Throughout, in fact, the ruder monastic instinct crops up from under the
Athanasian style and thought of the biographer. But the latter is also
unmistakable (see the notes passim), and the differences have been certainly made too
much of. I will give one example from Mr. Gwatkin, who says (ubi supra),
'Athanasius does not speak of <greek>pronoia</greek> like the Vita (c. 49, 66, 74),
for de Fuga 25 specially refers to his providential escape from Syrianus, and c.
Gent. 47, <greek>pronnoia</greek> <greek>tpn</greek> <greek>pa?twn</greek> is
very incidental.' Now certainly the constant introduction of
<greek>pronoia</greek>, which Mr. Gwatkin has understated, is a marked feature of the Vita. But I
am not prepared to say that Athanasius could not speak in this way. The word
is common, and even characteristic, in his writings. A few examples will support
this statement; more will be referred to in the index to this volume. De
Incarn. 2. 1. <greek>thn</greek> <greek>tpn</greek> <greek>olwn</greek>
<greek>pronoian</greek> <greek>kaq</greek> <greek>eautpn</greek> <greek>ouk</greek>
<greek>einai</greek> <greek>moqologousin</greek>.
14· 6. <greek>tou</greek> <greek>dia</greek> <greek>tha</greek>
<greek>idias</greek> <greek>pronoias</greek>....<greek>didaskontos</greek>
<greek>peri</greek> <greek>tos</greek> <greek>patros</greek>.
15. <greek>b?epontes</greek>....<greek>panta</greek> <greek>taxei</greek>
<greek>kai</greek> <greek>pronaia</greek> <greek>kinoumena</greek>
Apol. Fug. 17. <greek>emele</greek> <greek>gar</greek>
<greek>autois</greek>..<greek>mhte</greek> <greek>thn</greek> <greek>wrismenhn</greek>
<greek>para</greek> <greek>ths</greek> II<greek>ronoias</greek> <greek>krisn</greek>
<greek>prolambanein</greek> (and so in 9, 16, 22, 25 of this short tract). Orat.
iii. 37. 'o II<greek>athr</greek> <greek>en</greek> <greek>Yip</greek>
<greek>tpn</greek> <greek>pantmn</greek> <greek>pronoian</greek> <greek>poieitai</greek>
If each one of these and numberless other references to Providence is
'very incidental,' those in the Vita may surely claim the benefit (whatever that
may be) of the same formula.
The above are the principal materials for a decision as to the genuineness
of the Vita: and I do not see how they can justify any opinion but that stated
at the outset. Against the Vita we have certain historical difficulties
(intercourse with Athanasius, peregrini fratres, Balacius), and arguments ex
silentio, a kind of evidence seldom conclusive. For it, we have a quite unusual array
of external evidence, including an almost contemporary version, the absence of
any room for its date at a safe distance from its traditional author, and the
many points of contact, as well as the characteristic differences between the
Vita and the writings of Athanasius. Moreover on the kindred question of the
origin of monasticism, Weingarten's theory breaks down, and leads him to suicidal
steps in more than one direction. Although, therefore, it is permissible to keep
an open mind on the subject, we must recognise that the enterprise of the
recent assailants of the Vita is at present at a dead halt, that overwhelming
probability is against them.
But if Athanasius wrote the Vita, it does not follow that all its less
edifying details are true, nor that its portraiture is free from subjectivity.
4. At the same time, to the present writer at least, the lineaments of a
genuine man, <greek>omoiopaqous</greek> <greek>hmin</greek>, stand out from the
story. Doubtless there is idealisation, panegyric, an absence of sinfulness
(Gwatkin, Studies, p. 100). But the moderate value set on miracles (38, 56), the
absence of the element of fear from his religion (42, &c.), his serene courtesy
(73) and uniform cheerfulness (67, 70), the caution against being tempted to
excess in ascetic exercises (25), the ready half-humorous good sense (73, 85) of
the man, are human touches which belong to flesh and blood, not to hagiographic
imagination. But here the question is one of individual taste. At any rate the
Vita embodies the best spirit of early monasticism. It was the pure desire to
serve God and fulfil the spirit of the Gospel that led Antony to part with all
that might make the world precious to him, and to betake himself to his long
voluntary martyrdom of solitude, privation, and prayer. We see nothing but
tenderness and love of men in his character, nothing of the fierce bloodthirsty
fanaticism which in persons like Senuti made fifth-century monasticism a reproach to
the Christian name. Had Antony lived in our time, he might have felt that the
solitary life was a renunciation of the highest vocation of which man is
capable, the ministry to the material and spiritual needs of others. But it is not
given to man to see all aspects of truth at once and to our bustling,
comfort-loving age, even the life of Antony has its lesson.
The Vita has undoubtedly exercised a powerful and wide-spread influence.
Upon it Jerome modelled his highly idealised tales of Paul and Hilarion; at Rome
and all over the West it kindled the flame of monastic aspirations; it awoke
in Augustine (Conf. Viii. ubi supra) the resolution to renounce the world and
give himself wholly to God. The ingens numerus of Latin manuscripts, and the
imitation of its details in countless monastic biographies, testify to its
popularity in the middle ages. Like monasticism itself, its good influence was not
without alloy; but on the whole we may claim for it that it tended to stimulate the
nobler of the impulses which underlie the monastic life.
A few words may be added on the evidence of the Vita as to the form and
motive of early monachism. In the Life of Antony, the stages are(1) ascetics
living in the towns and villages, not withdrawn from society (3, 4);(2) solitary
monasticism in the desert, away from human society; and, as the fame of Antony
increases,(3) the formation ( 44) of clusters of cells centering round some
natural leader, the germ of the <greek>laura</greek> (such as the community of
Tabennae under Pachomius). Of organised monastic communities the Vita tells us
nothing. With regard to the motive of the earliest monasticism, this has been
variously sought in(1) the development of the ascetic element present in Christianity
from the very first;(2) in the influence of the Alexandrian School, especially
Origen, who again is influenced by the spirit of revolt against the body and
detachment from the world which characterised neo-Platonism (see Bornemann's
work mentioned above);(3) in the persecutions, which drove Christians to the
desert (Eus. H. E. vi. 42), which some adopted as their home;(4) to the (not
necessarily conscious) imitation of analogous heathen institutions, especially the
societies of <greek>agneuontes</greek> which were gathered round or in the temples
of Serapis (Weingarten, R.E., X. 779--785. Revillout, p. 480 n, refers to
Zoega, p. 542, for the fact that Pachomius himself was a monk of Serapis before his
forced baptism by his Christian neighbours; and that after it he continued his
ascetic life with no external difference.(5) To the desire to avoid civil
obligations, already marked in the Rescript of Valens (Cod. Th. xii. 1. 63, quidam
ignauiae sectatores desertis civitatum muneribus, &c.). Of the above motives
the Vita gives no support to any but the first, which it directly confirms, and
perhaps indirectly to the second. The date of the Vita depends mainly on the
view to be taken of 82, where see note
LIFE OF ANTONY
The life and conversation of our holy Father, Antony: written and sent to
the monks in foreign parts by our Father among the Saints, Athanasius, Bishop
of Alexandria. Athanasius [1] the bishop to the brethren in foreign parts.
You have entered upon a noble rivalry with the monks of Egypt by your
determination either to equal or surpass them in your training in the way of
virtue. For by this time there are monasteries among you, and the name of monk
receives public recognition. With reason, therefore, all men will approve this
determination, and in answer to your prayers God will give its fulfilment. Now since
you asked me to give you an account of the blessed Antony's way of life, and
are wishful to learn how he began the discipline, who and what manner of man he
was previous to this, how he closed his life, and whether the things told of him
are true, that you also may bring yourselves to imitate him, I very readily
accepted your behest, for to me also the bare recollection of Antony is a great
accession of help. And I know that you, when you have heard, apart from your
admiration of the man, will be wishful to emulate his determination; seeing that
for monks the life of Antony is a sufficient pattern of discipline. Wherefore do
not refuse credence to what you have heard from those who brought tidings of
him; but think rather that they have told you only a few things, for at all
events they scarcely can have given · circumstances of so great import in any
detail. And because I at your request have called to mind a few circumstances about
him, and shall send as much as I can tell in a letter, do not neglect to
question those who sail from here: for possibly when all have told their tale, the
account will hardly be in proportion to his merits. On account of this I was
desirous, when I received your letter, to send for certain of the monks, those
especially who were wont to be more frequently with him, that if I could learn any
fresh details I might send them to you. But since the season for sailing was
coming to an end and the letter-carrier urgent, I hastened to write to your piety
what I myself know, having seen him many times, and what I was able to learn
from him, for I was his attendant for a long time, and poured water on his hands
[2]; in all points being mindful of the truth, that no one should disbelieve
through hearing too much, nor on the other hand by hearing too little should
despise the man.
1. Antony you must know was by descent an Egyptian: his parents were of
good family and possessed considerable wealth [2a], and as they were Christians
he also was reared in the same Faith. In infancy he was brought up with his
parents, knowing nought else but them and his home. But when he was grown and
arrived at boyhood, and was advancing in years, he could not endure to learn [2b]
letters, not caring to associate with other boys; but all his desire was, as it
is written of Jacob, to live a plain man at home [3]. With his parents he used
to attend the Lord's House, and neither as a child was he idle nor when older
did he despise them; but was both obedient to his father and mother and attentive
to what was read, keeping in his heart what was profitable in what he heard.
And though as a child brought up in moderate affluence, he did not trouble his
parents for varied or luxurious fare, nor was this a source of pleasure to him;
but was content simply with what he found nor sought anything further.
2. After the death of his father and mother he was left alone with one
little sister: his age was about eighteen or twenty, and on him the care both of
home and sister rested. Now it was not six months after the death of his
parents, and going according to custom into the Lord's House, he communed with himself
and reflected as he walked how the Apostles [4] left all and followed the
Saviour; and how they in the Acts [5] sold their possessions and brought and laid
them at the Apostles' feet for distribution to then eedy, and what and how great
a hope was laid up for them in heaven. Pondering over these things he entered
the church, and it happened the Gospel was being read, and he heard the Lord
saying to the rich man [6], 'If thou wouldest be perfect, go and sell that thou
hast and give to the poor; and come follow Me and thou shalt have treasure in
heaven.' Antony, as though God had put him in mind of the Saints, and the passage
had been read on his account, went out immediately from the church, and gave
the possessions of his forefathers to the villagers--they were three hundred
acres [7], productive and very fair --that they should be no more a clog upon
himself and his sister [8]. And all the rest that was movable he sold, and having
got together much money he gave it to the poor, reserving a little however for
his sister's sake.
3. And again as he went into the church, hearing the Lord say in the
Gospel [9], ' be not anxious for the morrow,' he could stay no longer, but went out
and gave those things also to the poor. Having committed his sister to known
and faithful virgins, and put her into a convent [10] to be brought up, he
henceforth devoted himself outside his house to discipline [11], taking heed to
himself and training himself with patience. For there were not yet so many
monasteries [12] in Egypt, and no monk at all knew of the distant desert; but all who
wished to give heed to themselves practised the discipline in solitude near their
own village. Now there was then in the next village an old man who had lived
the life of a hermit from his youth up. Antony, after he had seen this man,
imitated him in piety. And at first he began to abide in places out side the
village: then if he heard of a good man anywhere, like the prudent bee, he went forth
and sought him, nor turned back to his own palace until he had seen him; and
he returned, having got from the good man as it were supplies for his journey in
the way of virtue. So dwelling there at first, he confirmed his purpose not to
return to the abode of his fathers nor to the remembrance of his kinsfolk; but
to keep all his desire and energy for perfecting his discipline. He worked,
however. with his hands, having heard, 'he who is idle let him not eat [13],' and
part he spent on bread and part he gave to the needy. And he was constant in
prayer, knowing that a man ought to pray in secret unceasingly [14]. For he had
given such heed to what was read that none of the things that were written fell
from him to the ground, but he remembered all, and afterwards his memory
served him for books.
4. Thus conducting himself, Antony was beloved by all. He subjected
himself in sincerity to the good men whom he visited, and learned thoroughly where
each surpassed him in zeal and discipline. He observed the graciousness of one;
the unceasing prayer of another; he took knowledge of another's freedom from
anger and another's loving-kindness; he gave heed to one as he watched, to another
as he studied; one he admired for his endurance, another for his fasting and
sleeping on the ground; the meekness of one and the long-suffering of another he
watched with care, while he took note of the piety towards Christ and the
mutual love which animated all. Thus filled, he returned to his own place of
discipline, and henceforth would strive to unite the qualities of each, and was eager
to show in himself the virtues of all. With others of the same age he had no
rivalry; save this only, that he should not be second to them in higher things.
And this he did so as to hurt the feelings of nobody, but made them rejoice
over him. So all they of that village and the good men in whose intimacy he was,
when they saw that he was a man of this sort, used to call him God-beloved. And
some welcomed him as a son, others as a brother.
5. But the devil, who hates and envies what is good, could not endure to
see such a resolution in a youth, but endeavoured to carry out against him what
he had been wont to effect against others. First of all he tried to lead him
away from the discipline, whispering to him the remembrance of his wealth, care
for his sister, claims of kindred, love of money, love of glory, the various
pleasures of the table and the other relaxations of life, and at last the
difficulty of virtue and the labour of it; he suggested also the infirmity of the body
and the length of the time. In a word he raised in his mind a great dust of
debate, wishing to debar him from his settled purpose. But when the enemy saw
himself to be too weak for Antony's determination, and that he rather was conquered
by the other's firmness, overthrown by his great faith and falling through his
constant prayers, then at length putting his trust in the weapons which are
[15] 'in the navel of his belly' and boasting in them--for they are his first
snare for the young--he attacked the young man, disturbing him by night and
harassing him by day, so that even the onlookers saw the struggle which was going on
between them. The one would suggest foul thoughts and the other counter them
with prayers: the one fire him with lush the other, as one who seemed to blush,
fortify his body with faith, prayers, and fasting. And the devil, unhappy wight,
one night even took upon him the shape of a woman and imitated all her acts
simply to beguile Antony. But he, his mind filled with Christ and the nobility
inspired by Him, and considering the spirituality of the soul, quenched the coal
of the other's deceit. Again the enemy suggested the ease of pleasure. But he
like a man filled with rage and grief turned his thoughts to the threatened fire
and the gnawing worm, and setting these in array against his adversary, passed
through the temptation unscathed. All this was a source of shame to his foe.
For he, deeming himself like God, was now mocked by a young man; and he who
boasted himself against flesh and blood was being put to flight by a man in the
flesh. For the Lord was working with Antony--the Lord who for our sake took flesh
[16] and gave the body victory over the devil, so that all who truly fight can
say [17], ' not I but the grace of God which was with me.'
6. At last when the dragon could not even thus overthrow Antony, but saw
himself thrust out of his heart, gnashing his teeth as it is written, and as it
were beside himself, he appeared to Antony like a black boy, taking a visible
shape [17a] in accordance with the colour of his mind. And cringing to him, as
it were, he plied him with thoughts no longer, for guileful as he was, he had
been worsted, but at last spoke in human voice and said, 'Many I deceived, many I
cast down; but now attacking thee and thy labours as I had many others, I
proved weak.' When Antony asked, Who art thou who speakest thus with me? he
answered with a lamentable voice, 'I am the friend of whoredom, and have taken upon me
incitements which lead to it against the young. I am called the spirit of
lust. How many have I deceived who wished to live soberly, how many are the chaste
whom by my incitements I have over-persuaded! I am he on account of whom also
the prophet reproves those who have fallen, saying [17b], "Ye have been caused
to err by the spirit of whoredom." For by me they have been tripped up. I am he
who have so often troubled thee and have so often been overthrown by thee.' But
Antony having given thanks to the Lord, with good courage said to him, ' Thou
art very despicable then, for thou art black-hearted and weak as a child.
Henceforth I shall have no trouble from thee [18], "for the Lord is my helper, and I
shall look down on mine enemies."' Having heard this, the black one
straightway fled, shuddering at the words and dreading any longer even to come near the
man.
7. This was Antony's first struggle against the devil, or rather this
victory was the Saviour's work in Antony [19], 'Who condemned sin in the flesh that
the ordinance of the law might be fulfilled in us who walk not after the flesh
but after the spirit.' But neither did Antony, although the evil one had
fallen, henceforth relax his care and despise him; nor did the enemy as though
conquered tease to lay snares for him. For again he went round as a lion seeking
some occasion against him. But Antony having learned from the Scriptures that the
devices [20] of the devil are many, zealously continued the discipline,
reckoning that though the devil had not been able to deceive his heart by bodily
pleasure, he would endeavour to ensnare him by other means. For the demon loves sin.
Wherefore more and more he repressed the body and kept it in subjection [1],
lest haply having conquered on one side, he should be dragged down on the other.
He therefore planned to accustom himself to a severer mode of life. And many
marvelled, but he himself used to bear the labour easily; for the eagerness of
soul, through the length of time it had abode in him, had wrought a good habit
in him, so that taking but little initiation from others he shewed great zeal in
this matter. He kept vigil to such an extent that he often continued the whole
night without sleep; and this not once but often, to the marvel of other. He
ate once a day, after sunset, sometimes once in two days, and often even in
four. His food was bread and salt, his drink, water only. Of flesh and wine it is
superfluous even to speak, since no such thing was found with the other earnest
men. A rush mat served him to sleep upon, but for the most part he lay upon the
bare ground. He would not anoint himself with oil, saying it behoved young men
to be earnest in training and not to seek what would enervate the body; but
they must accustom it to labour, mindful of the Apostle's words [2], ' when I am
weak, then am I strong.' 'For,' said he, 'the fibre of the soul is then sound
when the pleasures of the body are diminished.' And he had come to this truly
wonderful conclusion, 'that progress in virtue, and retirement from the world for
the sake of it, ought not to be measured by time, but by desire and fixity of
purpos. He at least gave no thought to the past, but day by day, as if he were
at the beginning of his discipline, applied greater pares for advancement,
often repeating to himself the saying of Paul [3]: 'Forgetting the things which are
behind and stretching forward to the things which are before.' He was also
mindful of the words spoken by the prophet Elias [4], 'the Lord liveth before
whose presence I stand to-day.' For he observed that in saying 'to-day' the prophet
did not compute the time that had gone by: but daily as though ever commencing
he eagerly endeavoured to make himself fit to appear before God, being pure in
heart and ever ready to submit to His counsel, and to Him alone. And he used
to say to himself that from the life of the great Elias the hermit ought to see
his own as in a mirror.
8. Thus tightening his hold upon himself, Antony departed to the tombs,
which happened to be at a distance from the village; and having bid one of his
acquaintances to bring him bread at intervals of many days, he entered one of the
tombs, and the other having shut the door on him, he remained within alone.
And when the enemy could not endure it. but was even fearful that in a short time
Antony would fill the desert with the discipline, coming one night with a
multitude of demons, he so cut him with stripes that he lay on the ground
speechless from the excessive pain. For he affirmed that the torture had been so
excessive that no blows inflicted by man could ever have caused him such torment. But
by the Providence of God--for the Lord never overlooks them that hope in
Him--the next day his acquaintance came bringing him the loaves. And having opened
the door and seeing him lying on the ground as though dead, he lifted him up and
carried him to the church in the village, and laid him upon the ground. And
many of his kinsfolk and the villagers sat around Antony as round a corpse. But
about midnight he came to himself and arose, and when be saw them all asleep and
his comrade alone watching, he motioned with his head for him to approach, and
asked him to carry him again to the tombs without waking anybody.
9. He was carried therefore by the man, and as he was wont, when the door
was shut he was within alone. And he could not stand up on account of the
blows, but he prayed as he lay. And after he had prayed, he said with a shout, Here
am I, Antony; I flee not from your stripes, for even if you inflict more
nothing shall separate rues from the love of Christ. And then he sang, 'though a camp
be set against me, my heart shall not be afraid [6].' These were the thoughts
and words of this ascetic. But the enemy, who hates good, marvelling that after
the blows he dared to return, called together his hounds and burst forth, 'Ye
see,' said he, 'that neither by the spirit of lust nor by blows did we stay the
man, but that he braves us, let us attack him in another fashion.' But changes
of form for evil are easy for the devil, so in the night they made such a din
that the whole of that place seemed to be shaken by an earthquake, and the
demons as if breaking the four walls of the dwelling seemed to enter through them,
coming in the likeness of beasts and creeping things. And the place was on a
sudden filled with the forms of lions, bears, leopards, bulls, serpents, asps,
scorpions, and wolves, and each of them was moving according to his nature. The
lion was roaring, wishing to attack, the bull seeming to toss with its horns,
the serpent writhing but unable to approach, and the wolf as it rushed on was
restrained; altogether the noises of the apparitions, with their angry ragings,
were dreadful. But Antony, stricken and goaded by them, felt bodily pains severer
still. He lay watching, however, with unshaken soul, groaning from bodily
anguish; but his mind was clear, and as in mockery he said, 'If there had been any
power in you, it would have sufficed had one of you come, but since the Lord
hath made you weak you attempt to terrify me by numbers: and a proof of your
weakness is that you take the shapes of brute beasts.' And again with boldness he
said, 'If you are able, and have received power against me, delay not to attack;
but if you are unable, why trouble me in vain ? For faith in our Lord is a
seal and a wall of safety to us.' So after many attempts they gnashed their teeth
upon him, because they were mocking themselves rather than him.
10. Nor was the Lord then forgetful of Antony's wrestling, but was at hand
to help him. So looking up he saw the roof as it were opened, and a ray of
light descending to him. The demons suddenly vanished, the pain of his body
straightway ceased, and the building was again whole. But Antony feeling the help,
and getting his breath again, and being freed from pain, besought the vision
which had appeared to him, saying, 'Where wert thou ? Why didst thou not appear at
the beginning to make my pains to cease?' And a voice came to him, 'Antony, I
was here, but I waited to see thy fight; wherefore since thou hast endured, and
hast not been worsted, I will ever be a succour to thee, and will make thy name
known everywhere.' Having heard this, Antony arose and prayed, and received
such strength that he perceived that he had more power in his body than
formerly.And he was then about thirty-five years old.
11. And on the day following he went forth still more eagerly bent on the
service of God and having fallen in with the old man he had met previously, he
asked him to dwell with him in the desert. But when the other declined on
account of his great age, and because as yet there was no such custom, Antony
himself set off forthwith to the mountain. And yet again the enemy seeing his zeal
and wishing to hinder it, east in his way what seemed to be a great silver dish.
But Antony, seeing the guile of the Evil One, stood, and having looked on the
dish, he put the devil in it to shame, saying, 'Whence comes a dish in the
desert ? This road is not well-worn, nor is there here a trace of any wayfarer; it
could not have fallen without being missed on account of its size; and he who
had lost it having turned back, to seek it, would have found it, for it is a
desert place. This is some wile of the devil. O thou Evil One, not with this shalt
thou hinder my purpose; let it go with thee to destruction. [3]' And when
Antony had said this it vanished like smoke from the face of fire.
12. Then again as he went on he saw what was this time not visionary, but
real gold scattered in the way. But whether the devil showed it, or some better
power to try the athlete and show the Evil One that Antony truly cared nought
for money, neither he told nor do we know. But it is certain that that which
appeared was gold. And Antony marvelled at the quantity, but passed it by as
though he were going over fire; so he did not even turn, but hurried on at a run to
lose sight of the place. More and more confirmed in his purpose, he hurried to
the mountain, and having found a fort, so long deserted that it was full of
creeping things, on the other side of the river; he crossed over to it and dwelt
there. The reptiles, as though some one were chasing them, immediately left the
place. But he built up the entrance completely, having stored up loaves for
six months--this is a custom of the Thebans, and the loaves often remain fresh a
whole year--and as he found water within, he descended as into a shrine, and
abode within by himself, never going forth nor looking at any one who came. Thus
he employed a long time training himself, and received loaves, let down from
above, twice in the year.
13. But those of his acquaintances who came, since he did not permit them
to enter, often used to spend days and nights outside, and heard as it were
crowds within clamouring, dinning, sending forth piteous voices and crying, 'Go
from what is ours. What dost thou even in the desert? Thou canst not abide our
attack.' So at first those outside thought there were some men fighting with him,
and that they had entered by ladders; but when stooping down they saw through
a hole there was nobody, they were afraid, accounting them to be demons, and
they called on Antony. Them he quickly heard, though he had not given a thought
to the demons, and coming to the door he besought them to depart and not to be
afraid, 'for thus,' said he, 'the demons make their seeming onslaughts against
those who are cowardly. Sign yourselves therefore with the cross [4], and depart
boldly, and let these make sport for themselves.' So they departed fortified
with the sign of the Cross. But he remained in no wise harmed by the evil
spirits, nor was he wearied with the contest, for there came to his aid visions from
above, and the weakness of the foe relieved him of much trouble and armed him
with greater zeal. For his acquaintances used often to come expecting to find
him dead, and would hear him singing [5], ' Let God arise and let His enemies be
scattered, let them also that hate Him flee before His face. As smoke
vanisheth, let them vanish; as wax melteth before the face of fire, so let the sinners
perish from the face of God ;' and again, 'All nations compassed me about, and
in the name of the Lord I requited them [6].'
14. And so for nearly twenty years he continued training himself in
solitude, never going forth, and but seldom seen by any. After this when many were
eager and wishful to imitate his discipline, and his acquaintances came and began
to cast down and wrench off the door by force, Antony, as from a shrine, came
forth initiated in the mysteries and filled with the Spirit of God. Then for
the first time he was seen outside the fort by those who came to see him. And
they, when they saw him, wondered at the sight, for he had the same habit of body
as before, and was neither fat, like a man without exercise, nor lean from
fasting and striving with the demons, but he was just the same as they had known
him before his retirement, And again his soul was free from blemish, for it was
neither contracted as if by grief, nor relaxed by pleasure, nor possessed by
laughter or dejection, for he was not troubled when he beheld the crowd, nor
overjoyed at being saluted by so many. But he was altogether even as being guided by
reason, and abiding in a natural state. Through him the Lord healed the bodily
ailments of many present, and cleansed others from evil spirits. And He gave
grace to Antony in speaking, so that he consoled many that were sorrowful, and
set those at variance at one, exhorting all to prefer the love of Christ before
all that is in the world. And while he exhorted and advised them to remember
the good things to come, and the loving-kindness of God towards us, 'Who spared
not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all [7],' he persuaded many to
embrace the solitary life. And thus it happened in the end that cells arose even in
the mountains, and the desert was colonised by monks, who came forth from
their own people, and enrolled themselves for the citizenship in the heavens.
15. But when he was obliged to cross the Arsenoitic Canal [8]--and the
occasion of it was the visitation of the brethren--the canal was full of
crocodiles. And by simply praying, he entered it, and all they with him, and passed over
in safety. And having returned to his ceil, he applied himself to the same
noble and valiant exercises; and by frequent conversation he increased the
eagerness of those already monks, stirred up in most of the rest the love of the
discipline, and speedily by the attraction of his words. cells multiplied, and he
directed them all as a father.
16. One day when he had gone forth because all the monks had assembled to
him and asked to hear words from him, he spoke to them in the Egyptian tongue
as follows: 'The Scriptures are enough for instruction 9, but it is a good thing
to encourage one another in the faith, and to stir up with words. Wherefore
you, as children, carry that which you know to your father; and I as the elder
share my knowledge and what experience has taught me with you. Let this
especially be the common aim of all, neither to give way having once begun, nor to faint
in trouble, nor to say: We have lived in the discipline a long time: but
rather as though making a beginning daily let us increase our earnestness. For the
whole life of man is very short, measured by the ages to come, wherefore all our
time is nothing compared with eternal life. And in the world everything is
sold at its price, and a man exchanges one equivalent for another; but the promise
of eternal life is bought for a trifle. For it is written, "The days of our
life in them are threescore years and ten, but if they are in strength, fourscore
years, and what is more than these is labour and sorrow [10]. "Whenever,
therefore, we live full fourscore years, or even a hundred in the discipline, not
for a hundred years only shall we reign, but instead of a hundred we shall reign
for ever and ever. And though we fought on earth, we shall not receive our
inheritance on earth, but we have the promises in heaven; and having put off the
body which is corrupt, we shall receive it incorrupt.
17. ' Wherefore, children, let us not faint nor deem that the time is
long, or that we are doing something great, "for the sufferings of this present
time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed to
us-ward [11]" Nor let us think, as we look at the world, that we have renounced
anything of much consequence, for the whole earth is very small compared with all
the heaven. Wherefore if it even chanced that we were lords of all the earth and
gave it all up, it would be nought worthy of comparison with the kingdom of
heaven. For as if a man should despise a copper drachma to gain a hundred
drachmas of gold; so if a man were lord of all the earth and were to renounce it, that
which he gives up is little, and he receives a hundredfold. But if not even
the whole earth is equal in value to the heavens, then he who has given up a few
acres leaves as it were nothing; and even if he have given up a house or much
gold he ought not to boast nor be low-spirited. Further, we should consider that
even if we do not relinquish them for virtue's sake, still afterwards when we
die we shall leave them behind--very often, as the Preacher saith [12], to
those to whom we do not wish. Why then should we not give them up for virtue's
sake, that we may inherit even a kingdom? Therefore let the desire of possession
take hold of no one, for what gain is it to acquire these things which we cannot
take with us? Why not rather get those things which we can take away with
us--to wit, prudence, justice, temperance, courage, understanding, love, kindness to
the poor, faith in Christ, freedom from wrath, hospitality? If we possess
these, we shall find them of themselves preparing for us a welcome there in the
land of the meek-hearted.
18. 'And so from such things let a man persuade himself not to make light
of it, especially if he considers that he himself is the servant of the Lord,
and ought to serve his Master. Wherefore as a servant would not dare to say,
because I worked yesterday, I will not work today; and considering the past will
do no work in the future; but, as it is written in the Gospel, daily shows the
same readiness to please his master, and to avoid risk: so let us daily abide
firm in our discipline, knowing that if we are careless for a single day the Lord
will not pardon us, for the sake of the past, but will be wrath against us for
our neglect. As also we have heard in Ezekiel [13]; and as Judas because of
one night destroyed his previous labour.
19. 'Wherefore, children, let us hold fast our discipline, and let us not
be careless. For in it the Lord is our fellow-worker, as it is written, "to all
that choose the good, God worketh with them for good [14]." But to avoid being
heedless, it is good to consider the word of the Apostle, "I die daily.
[15].'' For if we too live as though dying daily, we shall not sin. And the meaning
of that saying is, that as we rise day by day we should think that we shall not
abide till evening; and again, when about to lie down to sleep, we should think
that we shall not rise up. For our life is naturally uncertain, and Providence
allots it to us daily. But thus ordering our daily life, we shall neither fall
into sin, nor have a lust for anything, nor cherish wrath against any, nor
shall we heap up treasure upon earth. But, as though under the daily expectation
of death, we shall be without wealth, and shall forgive all things to all men,
nor shall we retain at all the desire of women or of any other foul pleasure.
But we shall turn from it as past and gone, ever striving and looking forward to
the day of Judgment. For the greater dread and danger of torment ever destroys
the ease of pleasure, and sets up the soul if it is like to fall.
20. 'Wherefore having already begun and set out in the way of virtue, let
us strive the more that we may attain those things that are before. And let no
one turn to the things behind, like Lot's wife, all the more so that the Lord
hath said, "No man, having put his hand to the plough, and turning back, is fit
for the kingdom of heavens [16]." And this turning back is nought else but to
feel regret, and to be once more worldly-minded. But fear not to hear of
virtue, nor be astonished at the name. For it is not far from us, nor is it without
ourselves, but it is within us, and is easy if only we are willing. That they
may get knowledge, the Greeks live abroad and cross the sea, but we have no need
to depart from home for the sake of the kingdom of heaven, nor to cross the sea
for the sake of virtue. For the Lord aforetime hath said, "The kingdom of
heaven is within you [17].'' Wherefore virtue hath need at our hands of willingness
alone, since it is in us and is formed from us. For when the soul hath its
spiritual faculty in a natural state virtue is formed. And it is in a natural
state when it remains as it came into existence. And when it came into existence it
was fair and exceeding honest. For this cause Joshua, the son of Nun, in his
exhortation said to the people," Make straight your heart unto the Lord God of
Israel [18]," and John, "Make your paths straight [19]." For rectitude of soul
consists in its having its spiritual part in its natural state as created. But
on the other hand, when it swerves and turns away from its natural state, that
is called vice of the soul Thus the matter is not difficult. If we abide as we
have been made, we are in a state of virtue, but if we think of ignoble things
we shall be accounted evil. If, therefore, this thing had to be acquired from
without, it would be difficult in reality; but if it is in us, let us keep
ourselves from foul thoughts. And as we have received the soul as a deposit, let us
preserve it for the Lord, that He may recognise His work as being the same as He
made it.
21. 'And let us strive that wrath rule us not nor lust overcome us, for it
is written, "The wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God. And lust,
when it hath conceived, beareth sin, and the sin when it is full grown bringeth
forth death [20].'' Thus living, let us keep guard carefully, and as it is
written, "keep our hearts with all watchfulness [1]." For we have terrible and
crafty foes--the evil spirits--and against them we wrestle, as the Apostle said,"
Not against flesh and blood, but against the principalities and against the
powers, against the world-rulers of this darkness, against the spiritual hosts of
wickedness in the heavenly places [1a]." Great is their number in the air
around us", and they are not far from us. Now there are great distinctions among
them; and concerning their nature and distinctions much could be said, but such a
description is for others of greater powers than we possess. But at this time
it is pressing and necessary for us only to know their wiles against ourselves.
22. 'First, therefore, we must know this: that the demons have not been
created like what we mean when we call them by that name for God made nothing
evil, but even they have been made good. Having fallen, however, from the heavenly
wisdom, since then they have been grovelling on earth. On the one hand they
deceived the Greeks with their displays, while out of envy of us Christians they
move all things in their desire to hinder us from entry into the heavens; in
order that we should not ascend up thither from whence they fell. Thus there is
need of much prayer and of discipline, that when a man has received through the
Spirit the gift of discerning spirits, he may have power to recognise their
characteristics: which of them are less and which more evil; of what nature is the
special pursuit of each, and how each of them is overthrown and cast out. For
their villainies and the changes in their plots are many. The blessed Apostle
and his followers knew such things when they said, "for we are not ignorant of
his devices [3];" and we, from the temptations we have suffered at their hands,
ought to correct one another under them. Wherefore I, having had proof of them,
speak as to children.
23. 'The demons, therefore, if they see all Christians, and monks
especially, labouring cheerfully and advancing, first make an attack by temptation and
place hindrances to hamper our way, to wit, evil thoughts. But we need not fear
their suggestions, for by prayer, fasting, and faith in the Lord their attack
immediately fails. But even when it does they cease not, but knavishly by
subtlety come on again. For when they cannot deceive the heart openly with foul
pleasures they approach in different guise, and thenceforth shaping displays they
attempt to strike fear, changing their shapes, taking the forms of women, wild
beasts, creeping things, gigantic bodies, and troops of soldiers. But not even
then need ye fear their deceitful displays. For they are nothing and quickly
disappear, especially if a man fortify himself beforehand with faith and the sign
of the cross [4]. Yet are they bold and very shameless, for if thus they are
worsted they make an onslaught in another manner, and pretend to prophesy and
foretell the future, and to shew themselves of a height reaching to the roof and
of great breadth; that they may stealthily catch by such displays those who
could not be deceived by their arguments. If here also they find the soul
strengthened by faith and a hopeful mind, then they bring their leader to their aid.
24. 'And he said they often appeared as the Lord revealed the devil to
Job, saying, "His eyes are as the morning star. From his mouth proceed burning
lamps and hearths of fire are east forth. The smoke of a furnace blazing with the
fire of coals proceeds from his nostrils. His breath is coals and from his
mouth issues flames." When the prince of the demons appears in this wise, the
crafty one, as I said before, strikes terror by speaking great things, as again the
Lord convicted him saying to Job, for "he counteth iron as straw, and brass as
rotten wood, yea he counteth the sea as a pot of ointment, and the depth of
the abyss as a captive, and the abyss as a covered walk [6]." And by the prophet,
"the enemy said, I will pursue and overtake [7]," and again by another, "I
will grasp the whole world in my hand as a nest, and take it up as eggs that have
been left [8]." Such, in a word, are their boasts and professions that they may
deceive the godly. But not even then ought we, the faithful, to fear his
appearance or give heed to his words. For he is a liar and speaketh of truth never a
word. And though speaking words so many and so great in his boldness, without
doubt, like a dragon he was drawn with a hook by the Saviour [9], and as a
beast of burden he received the halter round his nostrils, and as a runaway his
nostrils were bound with a ring, and his lips bored with an armlet [10]. And he
was bound by the Lord as a sparrow, that we should mock him. And with him are
placed the demons his fellows, like serpents and scorpions to be trodden
underfoot by us Christians. And the proof of this is that we now live opposed to him.
For he who threatened to dry the sea and seize upon the world, behold now cannot
stay our discipline, nor even me speaking against him. Let us then heed not
his words, for he is a liar: and let us not fear his visions, seeing that they
themselves are deceptive. For that which appears in them is no true light, but
they are rather the preludes and likenesses of the fire prepared for the demons
who attempt to terrify men with those flames in which they themselves will be
burned. Doubtless they appear; but in a moment disappear again, hurting none of
the faithful, but bringing with them the likeness of that fire which is about
to receive themselves. Wherefore it is unfitting that we should fear them on
account of these things; for through the grace of Christ all their practices are
in vain.
25. 'Again they are treacherous, and are ready to change themselves into
all forms and assume all appearances. Very often also without appearing they
imitate the music of harp and voice, and recall the words of Scripture. Sometimes,
too, while we are reading they immediately repeat many times, like an echo,
what is read. They arouse us from our sleep to prayers; and this constantly,
hardly allowing us to sleep at all. At another time they assume the appearance of
monks and feign the speech of holy men, that by their similarity they may
deceive and thus drag their victims where they will. But no heed must be paid them
even if they arouse to prayer, even if they counsel us not to eat at all even
though they seem to accuse and cast shame upon us for those things which once they
allowed. For they do this not for the sake of piety or truth, but that they
may carry off the simple to despair; and that they may say the discipline is
useless, and make men loathe the solitary life as a trouble and burden, and hinder
those who in spite of them walk in it.
26. 'Wherefore the prophet sent by the Lord declared them to be wretched,
saying: "Wo is he who giveth his neighbours to drink muddy destruction [11]."
For such practices and devices are subversive of the way which leads to virtue.
And the Lord Himself, even if the demons spoke the truth,--for they said truly
"Thou art the Son of God [12]" --still bridled their mouths and suffered them
not to speak lest haply they should sow their evil along with the truth, and
that He might accustom us never to give heed to them even though they appear to
speak what is true. For it is unseemly that we, having the holy Scriptures and
freedom from the Saviour, should be taught by the devil who hath not kept his own
order but hath gone from one mind to another [13]. Wherefore even when he uses
the language of Scripture He forbids him, saying: "But to the sinner said God,
Wherefore dost thou declare My ordinances and takest My covenant in thy mouth
[14]?" For the demons do all things --they prate, they confuse, they dissemble,
they confound--to deceive the simple. They din, laugh madly, and whistle; but
if no heed is paid to them forthwith they weep and lament as though vanquished.
27. 'The Lord therefore, as God, stayed the mouths of the demons: and it
is fitting that we, taught by the saints, should do like them and imitate their
courage. For they when they saw these things used to say: "When the sinner rose
against me, I was dumb and humble, and kept silence from good words [15]." And
again: "But I was as a deaf man and heard not, and as a dumb man who openeth
not his mouth, and I became as a man who heareth not [16].'' So let us neither
hear them as being strangers to us, nor give heed to them even through they
arouse us to prayer and speak concerning fasting. But let us rather apply ourselves
to our resolve of discipline, and let us not be deceived by them who do all
things in deceit, even though they threaten death. For they are weak and can do
nought but threaten.
28. 'Already in passing I have spoken on these things, and now I must not
shrink from speaking on them at greater length, for to put you in remembrance
will be a source of safety. Since the Lord visited earth [17], the enemy is
fallen and his powers weakened. Wherefore although he could do nothing, still like
a tyrant, he did not bear his fall quietly, but threatened, though his threats
were words only. And let each one of you consider this, and he will be able to
despise the demons. Now if they were hampered with such bodies as we are, it
would be possible for them to say, "Men when they are hidden we cannot find, but
whenever we do find them we do them hurt." And we also by lying in concealment
could escape them, shutting the doors against them. But if they are not of such
a nature as this, but are able to enter in, though the doors be shut, and
haunt all the air, both they and their leader the devil, and are wishful for evil
and ready to injure; and, as the Saviour said, "From the beginning the devil is
a manslayer and a father of vice [18];" while we, though this is so, are alive,
and spend our lives all the more in opposing him; it is plain they are
powerless. For place is no hindrance to their plots, nor do they look on us as friends
that they should spare us; nor are they lovers of good that they should amend.
But on the contrary they are evil, and nothing is so much sought after by them
as wounding them that love virtue and fear God. But since they have no power
to effect anything, they do nought but threaten. But if they could, they would
not hesitate, but forthwith work evil (for all their desire is set on this), and
especially against us. Behold now we are gathered together and speak against
them, and they know when we advance they grow weak. If therefore they had power
they would permit none of us Christians to live, for godliness is an
abomination to a sinner [19]. But since they can do nothing they inflict the greater
wounds on themselves; for they can fulfil none of their threats. Next this ought to
be considered, that we may be in no fear of them: that if they had the power
they would not come in crowds, nor fashion displays, nor with change of form
would they frame deceits. But it would suffice that one only should come and
accomplish that which he was both able and willing to do: especially as every one
who has the power neither slays with display nor strikes fear with tumult, but
forthwith makes full use of his authority as he wishes. But the demons as they
have no power are like actors on the stage changing their shape and frightening
children with tumultuous apparition and various forms: from which they ought
rather to be despised as shewing their weakness. At least the true angel of the
Lord sent against the Assyrian had no need for tumults nor displays from without,
nor noises nor rattlings, but in quiet he used his power and forthwith
destroyed a hundred and eighty-five thousand. But demons like these, who have no
power, try to terrify at least by their displays [20].
29. 'But if any one having in mind the history of Job [1] should say, Why
then hath the devil gone forth and accomplished all things against him; and
stripped him of all his possessions, and slew his children, and smote him with
evil ulcers? let such a one, on the other hand, recognise that the devil was not
the strong man, but God who delivered Job to him to be tried. Certainly he had
no power to do anything, but he asked, and having received it, he hath wrought
what he did. So also from this the enemy is the more to be condemned, for
although willing he could not prevail against one just man. For if he could have, he
would not have asked permission. But having asked not once but also a second
time, he shows his weakness and want of power. And it is no wonder if he could do
nothing against Job, when destruction would not have come even on his cattle
had not God allowed it. And he has not the power over swine, for as it is
written in the Gospel, they besought the Lord, saying, "Let us enter the swine [2]."
But if they had power not even against swine, much less have they any over men
formed [3] in the image of God.
30. 'So then we ought to fear God only, and despise the demons, and be in
no fear of them. But the more they do these things the more let us intensify
our discipline against them, for a good life and faith in God is a great weapon.
At any rate they fear the fasting, the sleeplessness, the prayers, the
meekness, the quietness, the contempt of money and vainglory, the humility, the love of
the poor, the alms, the freedom from anger of the ascetics, and, chief of all,
their piety towards Christ. Wherefore they do all things that they may not
have any that trample on them, knowing the grace given to the faithful against
them by the Saviour, when He says, "Behold I have given to you power to tread upon
serpents and scorpions, and upon all the power of the enemy [4]."
31. 'Wherefore if they pretend to foretell the future, let no one give
heed, for often they announce beforehand that the brethren are coming days after.
And they do come. The demons, however, do this not from any care for the
hearers, but to gain their trust, and that then at length, having got them in their
power, they may destroy them. Whence we must give no heed to them, but ought
rather to confute them when speaking, since we do not need them. For what wonder
is it, if with more subtle bodies than men haves, when they have seen them start
on their journey, they surpass them in speed, and announce their coming? Just
as a horseman getting a start of a man on foot announces the arrival of the
latter beforehand, so in this there is no need for us to wonder at them. For they
know none of those things which are not yet in existence; but God only is He
who knoweth all things before their birth [6]. But these, like thieves, running
off first with what they see, proclaim it: to how many already have they
announced our business--that we are assembled together, and discuss measures against
them, before any one of us could go and tell these things. This in good truth a
fleet-footed boy could do, getting far ahead of one less swift. But what I mean
is this. If any one begins to walk from the Thebaid, or from any other
district, before he begins to walk, they do not know whether he will walk. But when
they have seen him walking they run on, and before he comes up report his
approach. And so it falls out that after a few days the travellers arrive. But often
the walkers turn back, and the demons prove false.
32. 'So, too, with respect to the water of the river, they sometimes make
foolish statements, For having seen that there has been much rain in the
regions of Ethiopia, and knowing that they are the cause of the flood of the river
before the water has come to Egypt they run on and announce it. And this men
could have told, if they had as great power of running as the demons. And as
David's spy [7] going up to a lofty place saw the man approaching better than one who
stayed down below, and the forerunner himself announced, before the others
came up, not those things which had not taken place, but those things which were
already on the way and were being accomplished, so these also prefer to labour,
and declare what is happening to others simply for the sake of deceiving them.
If, however, Providence meantime plans anything different for the waters or
wayfarers--for Providence can do this--the demons are deceived, and those who gave
heed to them cheated.
33. 'Thus in days gone by arose the oracles of the Greeks, and thus they
were led astray by the demons. But thus also thenceforth their deception was
brought to an end by the coming of the Lord [8], who brought to nought the demons
and their devices. For they know nothing of themselves, but, like thieves, what
they get to know from others they pass on, and guess at rather than foretell
things. Therefore if sometimes they speak the truth, let no one marvel at them
for this. For experienced physicians also, since they see the same malady in
different people, often foretell what it is, making it out by their acquaintance
with it. Pilots, too, and farmers, from their familiarity with the weather, tell
at a glance the state of the atmosphere, and forecast whether it will be
stormy or fine. And no one would say that they do this by inspiration, but from
experience and practice. So if the demons sometimes do the same by guesswork, let
no one wonder at it or heed them. For what use to the hearers is it to know from
them what is going to happen before the time? Or what concern have we to know
such things, even if the knowledge be true? For it is not productive of virtue,
nor is it any token of goodness. For none of us is judged for what he knows
not, and no one is called blessed because he hath learning and knowledge. But
each one will be called to judgment in these points--whether he have kept the
faith and truly observed the commandments.
34. 'Wherefore there is no need to set much value on these things, nor for
the sake of them to practise a life of discipline and labour; but that living
well we may please God. And we neither ought to pray to know the future, nor to
ask for it as the reward of our discipline; but our prayer should be that the
Lord may be our fellow-helper for victory over the devil. And if even once we
have a desire to know the future, let us be pure in mind, for I believe that if
a soul is perfectly pure and in its natural state, it is able [9], being
clear-sighted, to see more and further than the demons--for it has the Lord who
reveals to it--like the soul of Elisha, which saw what was done [10] by Gehazi, and
beheld the hosts [11] standing on its side.
35. 'When, therefore, they come by night to you and wish to tell the
future, or say, "we are the angels," give no heed, for they lie. Yea even if they
praise your discipline and call you blessed, hear them not, and have no dealings
with them; but rather sign yourselves and your houses, and pray, and you shall
see them vanish. For they are cowards, and greatly fear the sign of the Lord's
Cross, since of a truth in it the Saviour stripped them, and made an example of
them [11a]. But if they shamelessly stand their ground, capering and changing
their forms of appearance, fear them not, nor shrink, nor heed them as though
they were good spirits. For the presence either of the good or evil by the help
of God can easily be distinguished. The vision of the holy ones is not fraught
with distraction: "For they will not strive, nor cry, nor shall any one hear
their voice [12]." But it comes so quietly and gently that immediately joy,
gladness and courage arise in the soul. For the Lord who is our joy is with them,
and the power of God the Father. And the thoughts of the soul remain unruffled
and undisturbed, so that it, enlightened as it were with rays, beholds by itself
those who appear. For the love of what is divine and of the things to come
possesses it, and willingly it would be wholly joined with them if it could depart
along with them. But if, being men, some fear the vision of the good, those who
appear immediately take fear away; as Gabriel [13] did in the case of
Zacharias, and as the angel [14] did who appeared to the women at the holy sepulchre,
and as He did who said to the shepherds in the Gospel, "Fear not." For their
fear arose not from timidity, but from the recognition of the presence of superior
beings. Such then is the nature of the visions of the holy ones.
36. 'But the inroad and the display of the evil spirits is fraught with
confusion, with din, with sounds and cryings such as the disturbance of boorish
youths or robbers would occasion. From which arise fear in the heart, tumult and
confusion of thought, dejection, hatred towards them who live a life of
discipline, indifference, grief, remembrance of kinsfolk and fear of death, and
finally desire of evil things, disregard of virtue and unsettled habits. Whenever,
therefore, ye have seen ought and are afraid, if your fear is immediately taken
away and in place of it comes joy unspeakable, cheerfulness, courage, renewed
strength, calmness of thought and all those I named before boldness and love
toward God,--take courage and pray. For joy and a settled state of soul show the
holiness of him who is present. Thus Abraham beholding the Lord rejoiced [14];
so also John [15] at the voice of Mary, the God-bearer [16], leaped for
gladness. But if at the appearance of any there is confusion, knocking without, worldly
display, threats of death and the other things which I have already mentioned,
know ye that it is an onslaught of evil spirits.
37. 'And let this also be a token for you: whenever the soul remains
fearful there is a presence of the enemies. For the demons do not take away the fear
of their presence as the great archangel Gabriel did for Mary and Zacharias,
and as he did who appeared to the women at the tomb; but rather whenever they
see men afraid they increase their delusions that men may be terrified the more;
and at last attacking they mock them, saying, "fall down and worship." Thus
they deceived the Greeks, and thus by them they were considered gods, falsely so
called. But the Lord did not suffer us to be deceived by the devil, for He
rebuked him whenever he framed such delusions against Him, saying: "Get behind me,
Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and Him only
shalt thou serve [17]." More and more, therefore, let the deceiver be despised by
us; for what the Lord hath said, this for our sakes He hath done: that the
demons hearing like words from us may be put to flight through the Lord who rebuked
them in those words.
38. 'And it is not fitting to boast at the casting forth of the demons,
nor to be uplifted by the healing of diseases: nor is it fitting that he who
casts out devils should alone be highly esteemed, while he who casts them not out
should be considered nought. But let a man learn the discipline of each one and
either imitate, rival, or correct it. For the working of signs is not ours but
the Saviour's work: and so He said to His disciples: "Rejoice not that the
demons are subject to you, but that your names are written in the heavens [18]."
For the fact that our names are written in heaven is a proof of our virtuous
life, but to cast out demons is a favour of the Saviour who granted it. Wherefore
to those who boasted in signs but not in virtue, and said: "Lord, in Thy name
did we not cast out demons, and in Thy name did many mighty works [19]?" He
answered, "Verily I say unto you, I know you not;" for the Lord knoweth not the ways
of the wicked. But we ought always to pray, as I said above, that we may
receive the gift of discerning spirits; that, as it is written [20], we may not
believe every spirit.
39. 'I should have liked to speak no further and to say nothing from my
own promptings, satisfied with what I have said: but lest you should think that I
speak at random and believe that I detail these things without experience or
truth; for this cause even though I should become as a fool, yet the Lord who
heareth knoweth the clearness of my con science, and that it is not for my own
sake, but on account of your affection towards me and at your petition that I
again tell what I saw of the practices of evil spirits. How often have they called
me blessed and I have cursed them in the name of the Lord! How often have they
predicted the rising of the river, and I answered them, "What have you to do
with it?" Once they came threatening and surrounded me like soldiers in full
armour. At another time they filled the house with horses, wild beasts and
creeping things, and I sang: "Some in chariots and some in horses, but we will boast
in the name of the Lord our God [1];" and at the prayers they were turned to
flight by the Lord. Once they came in darkness, bearing the appearance of a light,
and said, "We are come to give thee a light, Antony." But I closed my eyes and
prayed, and immediately the light of the wicked ones was quenched. And a few
months after they came as though singing psalms and babbling the words of
Scripture, "But I like a deaf man, heard not [2]." Once they shook the cell [3] with
an earthquake, but I continued praying with unshaken heart. And after this they
came again making noises, whistling and dancing. But as I prayed and lay
singing psalms to myself they forthwith began to lament and weep, as if their
strength had failed them. But I gave glory to the Lord who had brought down and made
an example of their daring and madness.
40. 'Once a demon exceeding high appeared with pomp, and dared to say, "I
am the power of God and I am Providence, what dost thou wish that I shall give
thee?" But I then so much the more breathed upon him [3a], and spoke the name
of Christ, and set about to smite him. And I seemed to have smitten him, and
forthwith he, big as he was, together with all his demons, disappeared at the name
of Christ. At another time, while I was fasting, he came full of craft, under
the semblance of a monk, with what seemed to be loaves, and gave me counsel,
saying, "Eat and cease from thy many labours. Thou also art a man and art like to
fall sick." But I, perceiving his device, rose up to pray; and he endured it
not, for he departed, and through the door there seemed to go out as it were
smoke. How often in the desert has he displayed what resembled gold, that I should
only touch it and look on it. But I sang psalms against him, and he vanished
away. Often they would beat me with stripes, and I repeated again and again,
"Nothing shall separate me from the love of Christ [4]," and at this they rather
fell to beating one another. Nor was it I that stayed them and destroyed their
power, but it was the Lord, who said, "I beheld Satan as lightning fall from
Heavens; [5]" but I, children, mindful of the Apostle's words, transferred [6]
this to myself, that you might learn not to faint in discipline, nor to fear the
devil nor the delusions of the demons.
41. 'And since I have become a fool in detailing these things, receive
this also as an aid to your safety and fearlessness; and believe me for I do not
lie. Once some one knocked at the door of my cell, and going forth I saw one who
seemed of great size and tall. Then when I enquired, "Who art thou?" he said,
"I am Satan." Then when I said, "Why art thou here?" he answered, "Why do the
monks and all other Christians blame me undeservedly? Why do they curse me
hourly?" Then I answered, "Wherefore dost thou trouble them?" He said, "I am not he
who troubles them, but they trouble themselves, for I am become weak. Have they
not read [7], "The swords of the enemy have come to an end, and thou hast
destroyed the cities ?" I have no longer a place, a weapon, a city. The Christians
are spread everywhere, and at length even the desert is filled with monks. Let
them take heed to themselves, and let them not curse me unreservedly." Then I
marvelled at the grace of the Lord, and said to him: "Thou who art ever a liar
and never speakest the truth, this at length, even against thy will, thou hast
truly spoken. For the coming of Christ hath made thee weak, and He hath cast
thee down and stripped thee." But he having heard the Saviour's name, and not
being able to bear the burning from it, vanished.
42. 'If, therefore, the devil himself confesses that his power is gone, we
ought utterly to despise both him and his demons; and since the enemy with his
hounds has but devices of this sort, we, having got to know their weakness,
are able to despise them. Wherefore let us not despond after this fashion, nor
let us have a thought of cowardice in our heart, nor frame fears for ourselves,
saying, I am afraid lest a demon should come and overthrow me; lest he should
lift me up and cast me down; or lest rising against me on a sudden he confound
me. Such thoughts let us not have in mind at all, nor let us be sorrowful as
though we were perishing; but rather let us be courageous and rejoice always,
believing that we are safe Let us consider in our soul that the Lord is with us, who
put the evil spirits to flight and broke their power. Let us consider and lay
to heart that while the Lord is with us, our foes can do us no hurt. For when
they come they approach us in a form corresponding to the state in which they
discover us [8], and adapt their delusions to the condition of mind in which they
find us. If, therefore, they find us timid and confused, they forthwith beset
the place, like robbers, having found it unguarded; and what we of ourselves
are thinking, they do, and more also. For if they find us faint-hearted and
cowardly, they mightily increase our terror, by their delusions and threats; and
with these the unhappy soul is thenceforth tormented. But if they see us rejoicing
in the Lord, contemplating the bliss of the future, mindful of the Lord,
deeming all things in His hand, and that no evil spirit has any strength against the
Christian, nor any power at all over any one--when they behold the soul
fortified with these thoughts--they are discomfited and turned backwards. Thus the
enemy, seeing Job fenced round with them, withdrew from him; but finding Judas
unguarded, him he took captive. Thus if we are wishful to despise the enemy, let
us ever ponder over the things of the Lord, and let the soul ever rejoice in
hope. And we shall see the snares of the demon are like smoke, and the evil ones
themselves flee rather than pursue For they are, as I said before, exceeding
fearful, ever looking forward to the fire prepared for them.
43. 'And for your fearlessness against them hold this sure sign--whenever
there is any apparition, be not prostrate with fear, but whatsoever it be,
first boldly ask, Who art thou? And from whence comest thou? And if it should be a
vision of holy ones they will assure you, and change your fear into joy. But if
the vision should be from the devil, immediately it becomes feeble, beholding
your firm purpose of mind. For merely to ask, Who art thou [9]? and whence
comest thou? is a proof of coolness. By thus asking, the son of Nun learned who his
helper was; nor did the enemy escape the questioning of Daniel [10].'
44. While Antony was thus speaking all rejoiced; in some the love of
virtue increased, in others carelessness was thrown aside, the self-conceit of
others was stopped; and all were persuaded to despise the assaults of the Evil One,
and marvelled at the grace given to Antony from the Lord for the discerning of
spirits. So their cells were in the mountains, like filled with holy bands of
men who sang psalms, loved reading, fasted, prayed, rejoiced in the hope of
things to come, laboured in alms-giving, and preserved love and harmony one with
another. And truly it was possible, as it were, to behold a land set by itself,
filled with piety and justice. For then there was neither the evil-doer, nor the
injured, nor the reproaches of the tax-gatherer: but instead a multitude of
ascetics; and the one purpose of them all was to aim at virtue. So that any one
beholding the cells again, and seeing such good order among the monks, would
lift up his voice and say, 'How goodly are thy dwellings, O Jacob, and thy tents,
O Israel; as shady glens and as a garden [11] by a river; as tents which the
Lord hath pitched, and like cedars near waters [12].'
45. Antony, however, according to his custom, returned alone to his own
cell increased his discipline, and sighed daily as he thought of the mansions in
Heaven, having his desire fixed on them, and pondering over the shortness of
man's life. And he used to eat and sleep, and go about all other bodily
necessities with shame when he thought of the spiritual faculties of the soul. So often,
when about to eat with any other hermits, recollecting the spiritual food, he
begged to be excused, and departed far off from them, deeming it a matter for
shame if he should be seen eating by others. He used, however, when by himself,
to eat through bodily necessity, but often also with the brethren; covered with
shame on these occasions, yet speaking boldly words of help. And he used to
say that it behoved a man to give all his time to his soul rather than his body,
yet to grant a short space to the body through its necessities; but all the
more earnestly to give up the whole remainder to the soul and seek its profit,
that it might not be dragged down by the pleasures of the body, but, on the
contrary, the body might be in subjection to the soul. For this is that which was
spoken by the Saviour: 'Be not anxious for your life what ye shall eat, nor for
your body what ye shall put on. And do ye seek not what ye shall eat, or what ye
shall drink, and be not of a doubtful mind. For all these things the nations of
the world seek after. But your Father knoweth that ye have need of all these
things. Howbeit seek ye first His Kingdom, and all these things shall be added
unto you [13].'
46. After this the Church was seized by the persecution which then [14]
took place under Maximinus, and when the holy martyrs were led to Alexandria,
Antony also followed, leaving his cell, and saying, Let us go too, that if called,
we may contend or behold them that are contending. And he longed to suffer
martyrdom, but not being willing to give himself up, he ministered to the
confessors in the mines and in the prisons. And he was very zealous in the judgment
hall to stir up to readiness those who were summoned when in their contest, while
those who were being martyred he received and brought on their way until they
were perfected. The judge, therefore, beholding the fearlessness of Antony and
his companions, and their zeal in this matter, commanded that no monk should
appear in the judgment hall, nor remain at all in the city. So all the rest
thought it good to hide themselves that day, but Antony gave so little heed to the
command that he washed his garment, and stood all next day on a raised place
before them, and appeared in his best before the governor. Therefore when all the
rest wondered at this, and the governor saw and passed by with his array, he
stood fearlessly, shewing the readiness of us Christians. For, as I said before,
he prayed himself to be a martyr, wherefore he seemed as one grieved that he had
not borne his witness. But the Lord was keeping him for our profit and that of
others, that he should become a teacher to many of the discipline which he had
learned from the Scriptures. For many only beholding his manner of life were
eager to be imitators of his ways. So he again ministered as usual to the
confessors, and as though he were their fellow captive he laboured in his ministry.
47. And when at last the persecution ceased, and the blessed Bishop Peter
[15] had borne his testimony; Antony departed, and again withdrew to his cell,
and was there daily a martyr to his conscience, and contending in the conflicts
of faith. And his discipline was much severer, for he was ever fasting, and he
had a garment of hair on the inside, while the outside was skin, which he kept
until his end. And he neither bathed his body with water to free himself from
filth, nor did he ever wash his feet nor even endure so much as to put them
into water, unless compelled by necessity. Nor did any one even see him unclothed,
nor his body naked at all, except after his death, when he was buried.
48. When therefore he had retired and determined to fix a time, after
which neither to go forth himself nor admit anybody, Martinian, a military officer,
came and disturbed Antony. For he had a daughter afflicted with an evil
spirit. But when he continued for a long while knocking at the door, and asking him
to come out and pray to God for his child, Antony, not bearing to open, looked
out from above and said, 'Man, why dost thou call on me? I also am a man even as
you. But if you believe on Christ whom I serve, go, and according as you
believe, pray to God, and it shall come to pass.' Straightway, therefore, he
departed, believing and calling upon Christ, and he received his daughter cleansed
from the devil. Many other things also through Antony the Lord did, who saith,
'Seek and it shall be given unto you [16].' For many of the sufferers, when he
would not open his door, slept outside his cell, and by their faith and sincere
prayers were healed.
49. But when he saw himself beset by many, and not suffered to withdraw
himself according to his intent as he wished, fearing because of the signs which
the Lord wrought by him, that either he should be puffed up, or that some other
should think of him above what he ought to think, he considered and set off to
go into the upper Thebaid, among those to whom he was unknown. And having
received loaves from the brethren, he sat down by the bank of the river, looking
whether a boat would go by, that, having embarked thereon, he might go up the
river with them. While he was considering these things, a voice came to him from
above, 'Antony, whither goest thou and wherefore?' But he no way disturbed, but
as he had been accustomed to be called [16a] often thus, giving ear to it,
answered, saying, 'Since the multitude permit me not to be still, I wish to go into
the upper Thebaid on account of the many hindrances that come upon me here,
and especially because they demand of me things beyond my power.' But the voice
said unto him, 'Even though you should go into the Thebaid, or even though, as
you have in mind, i you should go down to the Bucolia [17], you will have to
endure more, aye, double the amount of toil. But if you wish really to be in
quiet, depart now into the inner desert.' And when Antony said, 'Who will show me
the way for I know it not?' immediately the voice pointed out to him Saracens
about to go that way. So Antony approached, and drew near them, and asked that he
might go with them into the desert. And they, as though they had been
commanded by Providence, received him willingly. And having journeyed with them three
days and three nights, he came to a very lofty mountain, and at the foot of the
mountain ran a clear spring, whose waters were sweet and very cold; outside
there was a plain and a few uncared-for palm trees.
50. Antony then, as it were, moved by God, loved the place [18], for this
was the spot which he who had spoken with him by the banks of the river had
pointed out. So having first received loaves from his fellow travellers, he abode
in the mountain alone, no one else being with him. And recognising it as his
own home, he remained in that place for the future. But the Saracens, having seen
the earnestness of Antony, purposely used to journey that way, and joyfully
brought him loaves, while now and then the palm trees also afforded him a poor
and frugal relish. But after this, the brethren learning of the place, like
children mindful of their father, took care to send to him. But when Antony saw that
the bread was the cause of trouble and hardships to some of them, to spare the
monks this, he resolved to ask some of those who came to bring him a spade, an
axe, and a little corn. And when these were brought, he went over the land
round the mountain, and having found a small plot of suitable ground, tilled it;
and having a plentiful supply of water for watering, he sowed. This doing year
by year, he got his bread from thence, rejoicing that thus he would be
troublesome to no one, and because he kept himself from being a burden to anybody. But
after this, seeing again that people came, he cultivated a few pot-herbs, that
he who came to him might have some slight solace after the labour of that hard
journey. At first, however, the wild beasts in the desert, coming because of the
water, often injured his seeds and husbandry. But he, gently laving hold of
one of them, said to them all, 'Why do you hurt me, when I hurt none of you?
Depart, and in the name of the Lord come not nigh this spot.' And from that time
forward, as though fearful of his command, they no more came near the place.
51. So he was alone in the inner mountain, spending his time in prayer and
discipline. And the brethren who served him asked that they might come every
month and bring him olives, pulse and oil, for by now he was an old man. There
then he passed his life, and endured such great wrestlings, 'Not against flesh
and blood [19],' as it is written, but against opposing demons, as we learned
from those who visited him. For there they heard tumults, many voices, and, as it
were, the clash of arms. At night they saw the mountain become full of wild
beasts, and him also fighting as though against visible beings, and praying
against them. And those who came to him he encouraged, while kneeling he contended
and prayed to the Lord. Surely it was a marvellous thing that a man, alone in
such a desert, feared neither the demons who rose up against him, nor the
fierceness of the four-footed beasts and creeping things, for all they were so many.
But in truth, as it is written, 'He trusted in the Lord as Mount Sion [20],'
with a mind unshaken and undisturbed; so that the demons rather fled from him, and
the wild beasts, as it is written [21], 'kept peace with him.'
52. The devil, therefore, as David says in the Psalms [1], observed Antony
and gnashed his teeth against him. But Antony was consoled by the Saviour and
continued unhurt by his wiles and varied devices. As he was watching in the
night the devil sent wild beasts against him. And almost all the hyenas in that
desert came forth from their dens and surrounded him; and he was in the midst,
while each one threatened to bite. Seeing that it was a trick of the enemy he
said to them all: 'If ye have received power against me I am ready to be devoured
by you; but if ye were sent against me by demons, stay not, but depart, for I
am a servant of Christ.' When Antony said this they fled, driven by that word as
with a whip.
53. A few days after, as he was working (for he was careful to work hard),
some one stood at the door and pulled the plait which he was working, for he
used to weave baskets, which he gave to those who came in return for what they
brought him. And rising up he saw a beast like a man to the thighs but having
legs and feet like those of an ass. And Antony only signed himself and said, 'I
am a servant of Christ. If thou art sent against me, behold I am here.' But the
beast together with his evil spirits fled, so that, through his speed, he fell
and died. And the death of the beast was the fall of the demons. For they
strove in all manner of ways to lead Antony from the desert and were not able.
54. And once being asked by the monks to come down and visit them and
their abodes after a time, he journeyed with those who came to him. And a camel
carried the loaves and the water for them. For all that desert is dry, and there
is no water at all that is fit to drink, save in that mountain from whence they
drew the water, and in which Antony's cell was. So when the water failed them
on their way, and the heat was very great, they all were in danger. For having
gone round the neighbour-hood and finding no water, they could walk no further,
but lay on the ground and despairing of themselves, let the camel go. But the
old man seeing that they were all in jeopardy, groaning in deep grief, departed
a little way from them, and kneeling down he stretched forth his hands and
prayed. And immediately the Lord made water to well forth where he had stood
praying, and so all drank and were revived. And having filled their bottles they
sought the camel and found her, for the rope happened to have caught in a stone and
so was held fast. Having led it and watered it they placed the bottles on its
back and finished their journey in safety. And when he came to the outer cells
all saluted him, looking on him as a father. And he too, as though bringing
supplies from the mountain, entertained them with his words and gave them a share
of help. And again there was joy in the mountains, zeal for improvement and
consolation through their mutual faith. Antony also rejoiced when he beheld the
earnestness of the monks, and his sister grown old in virginity, and that she
herself also was the leader of other virgins.
55. So after certain days he went in again to the mountain. And henceforth
many resorted to him, and others who were suffering ventured to go in. To all
the monks therefore who came to him, he continually gave this precept: 'Believe
on the Lord and love Him; keep yourselves from filthy thoughts and fleshly
pleasures, and as it is written in the Proverbs, be not deceived "by the fulness
of the belly [a]." Pray continually; avoid vain-glory; sing psalms before sleep
and on awaking; hold in your heart the commandments of Scripture; be mindful
of the works of the saints that your souls being put in remembrance of the
commandments may be brought into harmony with the zeal of the saints.' And
especially he counselled them to meditate continually on the apostle's word, 'Let not
the sun go down upon your wrath? And he considered this was spoken of all
commandments in common, and that not on wrath alone, but not on any other sin of ours,
ought the sun to go down. For it was good and needful that neither the sun
should condemn us for an evil by day nor the moon for a sin by night, or even for
an evil thought. That this state may l be preserved in us it is good to hear
the apostle and keep his words, for he says, 'Try your own selves and prove your
own selves [4].' Daily, therefore, let each one take from himself the tale of
his actions both by day and night; and if he have sinned, let him cease from it;
while if he have not, let him not be boastful. But let him abide in that which
is good, without being negligent, nor condemning his neighbours, nor
justifying himself, 'until the Lord come who searcheth out hidden things [5],' as saith
the blessed apostle Paul. For often unawares we do things that we know not of
but the Lord seeth all things. Wherefore committing the judgment to Him, let us
have sympathy one with another. Let us bear each other's burdens [6]: but let
us examine our own selves and hasten to fill up that in which we are lacking.
And as a safeguard against sin let the following be observed. Let us each one
note and write down our actions and the impulses of our soul as though we were
going to relate them to each other. And be assured that if we should be utterly
ashamed to have them known, we shall abstain from sin and harbour no base
thoughts in our mind. For who wishes to be seen while sinning? or who will not rather
lie after the commission of a sin, through the wish to escape notice? As then
while we are looking at one another, we would not commit carnal sin, so if we
record our thoughts as though about to tell them to one another, we shall the
more easily keep ourselves free from vile thoughts through shame lest they should
be known. Wherefore let that which is written be to us in place of the eyes of
our fellow hermits, that blushing as much to write as if we had been caught, we
may never think of what is unseemly. Thus fashioning ourselves we shall be
able to keep the body in subjection, to please the Lord, and to trample on the
devices of the enemy.
56. This was the advice he gave to those who came to him. And with those
who suffered he sympathised and prayed. And oft-times the Lord heard him on
behalf of many: yet he boasted not because he was heard, nor did he murmur if he
were not. But always he gave the Lord thanks and besought the sufferer to be
patient, and to know that healing belonged neither to him nor to man at all, but
only to the Lord, who doeth good when and to whom He will. The sufferers
therefore used to receive the words of the old man as though they were a cure, learning
not to be downhearted but rather to be long-suffering. And those who were
healed were taught not to give thanks to Antony but to God alone.
57. Wherefore a man, Fronto by name, who was an officer of the Court and
had a terrible disease, for he used to bite his own tongue and was in danger of
injury to his eyes, having come to the mountain, asked Antony to pray for him.
But Antony said to him, 'Depart and thou shalt be healed.' But when he was
violent and remained within some days, Antony waited and said, 'If thou stayest
here, thou canst not be healed. Go, and having come into Egypt thou shall see the
sign wrought in thee.' And he believed and went. And as soon as he set eyes on
Egypt his sufferings ceased, and the man became whole according to the word of
Antony, which the Saviour had revealed to him in prayer.
58. There was also a maiden from Busiris Tripolitana, who had a terrible
and very hideous disorder. For the runnings of her eyes, nose, and ears fell to
the ground and immediately became worms. She was paralysed also and squinted.
Her parents having heard of monks going to Antony, and believing on the Lord who
healed [7] the woman with the issue of blood, asked to be allowed, together
with their daughter, to journey with them. And when they suffered them, the
parents together with the girl, remained outside the mountain with Paphnutius, the
confessor and monk; but the monks went in to Antony. And when they only wished
to tell about the damsel, he anticipated them, and detailed both the sufferings
of the child and how she journeyed with them. Then when they asked that she
should be admitted, Antony did not allow it, but said, 'Go, and if she be not
dead, you will find her healed: for the accomplishment of this is not mine, that
she should come to me, wretched man that I am, but her healing is the work of the
Saviour, who in every place sheweth His pity to them that call upon Him.
Wherefore the Lord hath inclined to her as she prayed, and His loving-kindness hath
declared to me that He will heal the child where she now is.' So the wonder
took place; and going out they found the parents rejoicing and the girl whole.
59. But when two brethren were coming to him, the water failed on the way,
and one died and the other was at the point of death, for he had no strength
to go on, but lay upon the ground expecting to die. But Antony sitting in the
mountain called two monks, who chanced to be there, and urged them saying, 'Take
a pitcher of water and run on the road towards Egypt. For of two men who were
coming, one is already dead and the other will die unless you hasten. For this
has been revealed to me as I was praying.' The monks therefore went, and found
one lying dead, whom they buried, and the other they restored with water and led
him to the old man. For it was a day's journey [7a]. But if any one asks, why
he did not speak before the other died, the question ought not to be asked. For
the punishment of death was not Antony's but God's, who also judged the one
and revealed the condition of the other. But the marvel here was only in the case
of Antony: that he sitting in the mountain had his heart watchful, and had the
Lord to show him things afar off.
60. And this is so, for once again he was sitting on the mountain, and
looking up saw in the air some one being borne upwards, and there was much joy
among those who met him. Then wondering and deeming a company of that kind to be
blessed, he prayed to learn what this might be. And immediately a voice came to
him: 'This is the soul of Amun, the monk at Nitria.' Now Amun had persevered in
the discipline up to old age; and the distance from Nitria to the mountain
where Antony was, was thirteen days' journey. The companions of Antony therefore,
seeing the old man amazed, asked to learn, and heard that Amun was just dead
[8]. And he was well known, for he had stayed there very often, and many signs
had been wrought by his means. And this is one of them. Once when he had need to
cross the river called Lycus (now it was the season of the flood), he asked his
comrade Theodorus to remain at a distance, that they should not see one
another naked as they swam the water. Then when Theodorus was departed he again felt
ashamed even to see himself naked. While, therefore, he was pondering filled
with shame, on a sudden he was borne over to the other side. Theodorus,
therefore, himself being a good man, approached, and seeing Amun across first without a
drop of water falling from him, enquired how he had got over. And when he saw
that Amun was unwilling to tell him, he held him by the feet and declared that
he would not let him go before he had learned it from him. So Amun seeing the
determination of Theodorus especially from what he had said, and having asked him
to tell no man before his death, told him that he had been carried and placed
on the further side. And that he had not even set foot on the water, nor was
that possible for man, but for the Lord alone and those whom He permits, as He
did for the great apostle Peter [9]. Theodorus therefore told this after the
death of Amun. And the monks to whom Antony spoke concerning Amun's death marked
the day; and when the brethren came up from Nitria thirty days after, they
enquired of them and learned that Amun had fallen asleep at that day and hour in
which the old man had seen his soul borne upwards. And both these and the others
marvelled at the purity of Antony's soul, how he had immediately learned that
which was taking place at a distance of thirteen days' journey, and had seen the
soul as it was taken up.
61. And Archelaus too, the Count, on a time having found him in the outer
mountain, asked him merely to pray for Polycratia of Laodicea, an excellent and
Christian [9a] maiden, for she suffered terribly in the stomach and side
through over much discipline, and was altogether weakly of body. Antony prayed
therefore, and the Count noted the day in which the prayer was made, and having
departed to Laodicea he found the maiden whole. And having enquired when and on
what day she was relieved of her infirmity, he produced the paper on which he had
written the time of the prayer, and having read it he immediately shewed the
writing on the paper. And all wondered when they knew that the Lord had relieved
her of pain at the time when Antony was praying and invoking the goodness of
the Saviour on her behalf.
62. And concerning those who came to him, he often foretold some days or
sometimes a month beforehand what was the cause of their coming. For some came
only for the sake of seeing him, others through sickness, and others suffering
from evil spirits. And all thought the labour of the journey neither trouble nor
loss. For each one returned aware that he had received benefit. But though
saying such things and beholding such sights, he used to ask that no one should
wonder at him for this; but should rather marvel at the Lord for having granted
to us men to know Him as far as our powers extended.
63. Afterwards, on another occasion, having descended to the outer cells,
he was asked to enter a vessel and pray with the monks, and he alone perceived
an exceedingly unpleasant smell. But those on board said that the stench arose
from the fish and salt meat in the ship. He replied however, the smell was
different from that; and while he was speaking, a youth with an evil spirit, who
had come and hidden himself in the ship, cried out. But the demon being rebuked
in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ departed from him, and the man became
whole. And all knew that the evil smell arose from the demon.
64. And another, a person of rank, came to him, possessed by a demon; and
the demon was so terrible that the man possessed did not know that he was
coming to Antony. But he even ate the excreta from his body. So those who brought
him besought Antony to pray for him. And Antony pitying the young man prayed and
kept watch with him all the night. And about dawn the young man suddenly
attacked Antony and gave him a push. But when those who came with him were angry,
Antony said, 'Be not angry with the young man, for it is not he, but the demon
which is in him. And being rebuked and commanded to go into dry places, the demon
became raging mad, and he has done this. Wherefore give thanks to the Lord, for
his attack on me thus is a sign of the departure of the evil spirit.' When
Antony had said this, straightway the young man had become whole, and having come
at last to his right mind, knew where he was, and saluted the old man and gave
thanks to God.
65. And many monks have related with the greatest agreement and unanimity
that many other such like things were done by him. But still these do not seem
as marvellous as certain other things appear to be. For once, when about to
eat, having risen up to pray about the ninth hour, he perceived that he was caught
up in the spirit, and, wonderful to tell, he stood and saw himself, as it
were, from outside himself, and that he was led in the air by certain ones. Next
certain bitter and terrible beings stood in the air and wished to hinder him from
passing through. But when his conductors opposed them, they demanded whether
he was not accountable to them. And when they wished to sum up the account from
his birth, Antony's conductors stopped them, saying, 'The Lord hath wiped out
the sins from his birth, but from the time he became a monk, and devoted himself
to God, it is permitted you to make a reckoning.' Then when they accused him
and could not convict him, his way was free and unhindered. And immediately he
saw himself, as it were, coming and standing by himself, and again he was Antony
as before. Then forgetful of eating, he remained the rest of the day and
through the whole of the night groaning and praying. For he was astonished when he
saw against what mighty opponents our wrestling is, and by what labours we have
to pass through the air. And he remembered that this is what the Apostle said,
'according to the prince of the power of the air [10].' For in it the enemy
hath power to fight and to attempt to hinder those who pass through. Wherefore
most earnestly he exhorted, 'Take up the whole armour of God, that ye may be able
to withstand in the evil day [11],' that the enemy, 'having no evil thing to
say against us, may be ashamed [12].' And we who have learned this, let us be
mindful of the Apostle when he says, 'whether in the body I know not, or whether
out of the body I know not; God knoweth [13].' But Paul was caught up unto the
third heaven, and having heard things unspeakable he came down; while Antony
saw that he had come to the air, and contended until he was free.
66. And he had also this favour granted him. For as he was sitting alone
on the mountain, if ever he was in perplexity in his meditations, this was
revealed to him by Providence in prayer. And the happy man, as it is written, was
taught of God [14]. After this, when he once had a discussion with certain men
who had come to him concerning the state of the soul and of what nature its place
will be after this life, the following night one from above called him,
saying, 'Antony, rise, go out and look.' Having gone out therefore (for he knew whom
he ought to obey) looking up, he beheld one standing and reaching to the
clouds, tall, hideous, and fearful, and others ascending as though they were winged.
And the figure stretched forth his hands, and some of those who were ascending
were stayed by him, while others flew above, and having escaped heavenward,
were borne aloft free from care. At such, therefore, the giant gnashed his teeth,
but rejoiced over those who fell back. And forthwith a voice came to Antony,
'Understandest thou what thou seest?' And his understanding was opened, and he
understood that it was the passing of souls, and that the tall being who stood
was the enemy who envies the faithful. And those whom he caught and stopped from
passing through are accountable to him, while those whom he was unable to hold
as they passed upwards had not been subservient to him. So having seen this,
and as it were being reminded, he struggled the more daily to advance towards
those things which were before. And these visions he was unwilling to tell, but as
he spent much time in prayer, and was amazed, when those who were with him
pressed him with questions and forced him, he was compelled to speak, as a father
who cannot withhold ought from his children. And he thought that as his
conscience was clear, the account would be beneficial for them, that they might learn
that discipline bore good fruit, and that visions were oftentimes the solace of
their labours.
67. Added to this he was tolerant in disposition and humble in spirit. For
though he was such a man, he observed the rule of the Church most rigidly, and
was willing that all the clergy should be honoured above himself [17]. For he
was not ashamed to bow his head to bishops and presbyters,and if ever a deacon
came to him for help he discoursed with him on what was profitable, but gave
place to him in prayer, not being ashamed to learn himself. For often he would
ask questions, and desired to listen to those who were present, and if any one
said anything that was useful he confessed that he was profited. And besides, his
countenance had a great and wonderful grace. This gift also he had from the
Saviour. For if he were present in a great company of monks, and any one who did
not know him previously, wished to see him, immediately coming forward he
passed by the rest, and hurried to Antony, as though attracted by his appearance.
Yet neither in height nor breadth was he conspicuous above others, but in the
serenity of his manner and the purity of his soul. For as his soul was free from
disturbances, his outward appearance was calm; so from the joy of his soul he
possessed a cheerful countenance, and from his bodily movements could be
perceived the condition of his soul, as it is written, 'When the heart is merry the
countenance is cheerful, but when it is sorrowful it is cast down [18].' Thus
Jacob recognised the counsel Laban had in his heart, and said to his wives, 'The
countenance of your father is not as it was yesterday and the day before [19].'
Thus Samuel recognised David, for he had mirthful eyes, and teeth white as milk.
Thus Antony was recognised, for he was never disturbed, for his soul was at
peace; he was never downcast, for his mind was joyous.
68. And he was altogether wonderful in faith and religious, for he never
held communion with the Meletian schismatics, knowing their wickedness and
apostacy from the beginning; nor had he friendly dealings with the Manichaeans or
any other heretics; or, if he had, only as far as advice that they should change
to piety. For he thought and asserted that intercourse with these was harmful
and destructive to the saul. In the same manner also he loathed the heresy of
the Arians, and exhorted all neither to approach them nor to bold their erroneous
belief. And once when certain Arian madmen came to him, when he had questioned
them and learned their impiety, he drove them from the mountain, saying that
their words were worse than the poison of serpents.
69. And once also the Arians having lyingly asserted that Antony's
opinions were the same as theirs, he was displeased and wroth against them. Then being
summoned by the bishops and all the brethren, he descended from the mountain,
and having entered Alexandria [19a], he denounced the Arians, saying that their
heresy was the last of all and a forerunner of Antichrist. And he taught the
people that the Son of God was not a created being, neither had He come into
being from non-existence, but that He was the Eternal Word and Wisdom of the
Essence of the Father. And therefore it was impious to say, 'there was a time when
He was not,' for the Word was always co-existent with the Father. Wherefore have
no fellowship with the most impious Arians. For there is no communion between
light and darkness [20]. For you are good Christians, but they, when they say
that the Son of the Father, the Word of God, is a created being, differ in
nought from the heathen, since they worship that which is created, rather than God
the creator [1]. But believe ye that the Creation itself is angry with them
because they number the Creator, the Lord of all, by whom all things came into
being, with those things which were originated.
70. All the people, therefore, rejoiced when they heard the anti-Christian
heresy anathematised by such a man. And all the people in the city ran
together to see Antony; and the Greeks and those who are called their Priests, came
into the church, saying, 'We ask to see the man of God,' for so they all called
him. For in that place also the Lord cleansed many of demons, and healed those
who were mad. And many Greeks asked that they might even but touch the old man,
believing that they should be profited. Assuredly as many became Christians in
those few days as one would have seen made in a year. Then when some thought
that he was troubled by the crowds, and on this account turned them all away from
him, he said, undisturbedly, that there were not more of them than of the
demons with whom he wrestled in the mountain.
71. But when he was departing, and we were setting him forth on his way,
as we [2] arrived at the gate a woman from behind cried out, 'Stay, thou man of
God, my daughter is grievously vexed by a devil. Stay, I beseech thee, lest I
too harm myself with running.' And the old man when he heard her, and was asked
by us, willingly stayed. And when the woman drew near, the child was cast on
the ground. But when Antony had prayed and called upon the name of Christ, the
child was raised whole, for the unclean spirit was gone forth. And the mother
blessed God, and all gave thanks. And Antony himself also rejoiced, departing to
the mountain as though it were to his own home.
72. And Antony also was exceeding prudent, and the wonder was that
although he had not learned letters, he was a ready-witted and sagacious man. At all
events two Greek philosophers once came, thinking they could try their skill on
Antony; and he was in the outer mountain, and having recognised who they were
from their appearance, he came to them and said to them by means of an
interpreter, 'Why, philosophers, did ye trouble yourselves so much to come to a foolish
man?' And when they said that he was not a foolish man, but exceedingly
prudent, he said to them, ' If you came to a foolish man, your labour is superfluous;
but if you think me prudent become as I am, for we ought to imitate what is
good. And if I had come to you I should have imitated you; but if you to me,
become as I am, for I am a Christian.' But they departed with wonder, for they saw
that even demons feared Antony.
73. And again others such as these met him in the outer mountain and
thought to mock [3], him because he had not learned letters. And Antony said to
them, 'What say ye? which is first, mind or letters? And which is the cause of
which--mind of letters or letters of mind?' And when they answered mind is first
and the inventor of letters, Antony said, 'Whoever, therefore, hath a sound mind
hath not need of letters.' This answer amazed both the bystanders and the
philosophers, and they departed marvelling that they had seen so much understanding
in an ignorant man. For his manners were not rough as though he bad been reared
in the mountain and there grown old, but graceful and polite, and his speech
was seasoned with the divine salt, so that no one was envious, but rather all
rejoiced over him who visited him.
74. After this again certain others came; and these were men who were
deemed wise among the Greeks, and they asked him a reason for our faith in Christ.
But when they attempted to dispute concerning the preaching of the divine Cross
and meant to mock, Antony stopped for a little, and first pitying their
ignorance, said, through an interpreter, who could skilfully interpret his words,
'Which is more beautiful, to confess the Cross or to attribute to those whom you
call gods adultery and the seduction of boys? For that which is chosen by us is
a sign of courage and a sure token of the contempt of death, while yours are
the passions of licentiousness. Next, which is better, to say that the Word of
God was not changed, but, being the same, He took a human body for the salvation
and well-being of man, that having shared in human birth He might make man
partake in the divine and spiritual nature [4]; or to liken the divine to senseless
animals and consequently to worship four-footed beasts, creeping things and
the likenesses of men? For these things, are the objects of reverence of you wise
men. But how do you dare to mock us, who say that Christ has appeared as man,
seeing that you, bringing the soul from heaven, assert that it has strayed and
fallen from the vault of the sky into body [5]? And would that you had said
that it had fallen into human body alone, and not asserted that it passes and
changes into four-footed beasts and creeping things. For our faith declares that
the coming of Christ was for the salvation of men. But you err because you speak
of soul as not generated. And we, considering the power and loving-kindness of
Providence, think that the coming of Christ in the flesh was not impossible
with God. But you, although calling the soul the likeness of Mind [6], connect it
with falls and feign in your myths that it is changeable, and consequently
introduce the idea that Mind itself is changeable by reason of the soul. For
whatever is the nature of a likeness, such necessarily is the nature of that of which
it is a likeness. But whenever you think such a thought concerning Mind,
remember that you blaspheme even the Father of Mind Himself [7].
75. But concerning the Cross, which would you say to be the better, to
bear it, when a plot is brought about by wicked men, nor to be in fear of death
brought about under any form whatever [8]; or to prate about the wanderings of
Osiris and Isis, the plots of Typhon, the flight of Cronos, his eating his
children and the slaughter of his father. For this is your wisdom. But how, if you
mock the Cross, do you not marvel at the resurrection? For the same men who told
us of the latter wrote the former, Or why when you make mention of the Cross
are you silent about the dead who were raised, the blind who received their
sight, the paralytics who were healed, the lepers who were cleansed, the walking
upon the sea, and the rest of the signs and wonders, which shew that Christ is no
longer a man but God? To me you seem to do yourselves much injustice and not to
have carefully read our Scriptures. But read and see that the deeds of Christ
prove Him to be God come upon earth for the salvation of men.
76. But do you tell us your religious beliefs. What can you say of
senseless creatures except senselessness and ferocity? But if, as I hear, you wish to
say that these things are spoken of by you as legends, and you allegorize the
rape of the maiden Persephone of the earth; the lameness of Hephaestus of fire;
and allegorize the air as Hera, the sun as Apollo, the moon as Artemis, and the
sea as Poseidon; none the less, you do not worship God Himself, but serve the
creature rather than God who created all things. For if because creation is:
beautiful you composed such legends, still it was fitting that you should stop
short at admiration and not make gods of the things created; so that you should
not give the honour of the Creator to that which is created. Since, if you do,
it is time for you to divert the honour of the master builder to the house built
by him; and of the general to the soldier. What then can you reply to these
things, that we may know whether the Cross hath anything worthy of mockery?'
77. But when they were at a loss, turning hither and thither, Antony
smiled and said--again through an interpreter--'Sight itself carries the conviction
of these things. But as you prefer to lean upon demonstrative arguments, and as
you, having this art, wish us also not to worship God, until after such proof,
do you tell first how things in general and specially the recognition of God
are accurately known. Is it through demonstrative argument or the working of
faith? And which is better, faith which comes through the inworking (of God) or
demonstration by arguments?' And when they answered that faith which comes
through the inworking was better and was accurate knowledge, Antony said, 'You have
answered well, for faith arises from disposition of soul, but dialectic from the
skill of its inventors. Wherefore to those who have the inworking through
faith, demonstrative argument is needless, or even superfluous. For what we know
through faith this you attempt to prove through words, and often you are not even
able to express what we understand. So the inworking through faith is better
and stronger than your professional arguments.
78. 'We Christians therefore hold the mystery not in the wisdom of Greek
arguments, but in the power of faith richly supplied to us by God through Jesus
Christ. And to show that this statement is true, behold now, without having
learned letters, we believe in God, knowing through His works His providence over
all things. And to show that our faith is effective, so now we are supported by
faith in Christ, but you by professional logomachies. The portents of the
idols among you are being done away, but our faith is extending everywhere. You by
your arguments and quibbles have converted none from Christianity to Paganism.
We, teaching the faith on Christ, expose your superstition, since all recognise
that Christ is God and the Son of God. You by your eloquence do not hinder the
teaching of Christ. But we by the mention of Christ crucified put all demons
to flight, whom you fear as if they were gods. Where the sign of the Cross is
[9], magic is weak and witchcraft has no strength.
79. ' Tell us therefore where your oracles are now? Where are the charms
of the Egyptians? Where the delusions of the magicians? When did all these
things cease and grow weak except when the Cross of Christ arose? Is It then a fit
subject for mockery, and not rather the things brought to nought by it, and
convicted of weakness? For this is a marvellous thing, that your religion was never
persecuted, but even was honoured by men in every city, while the followers of
Christ are persecuted, and still our side flourishes and multiplies over
yours. What is yours, though praised and honoured, perishes, while the faith and
teaching of Christ, though mocked by you and often persecuted by kings, has filled
the world. For when has the knowledge of God so shone forth? or when has
self-control and the excellence of virginity appeared as now? or when has death been
so despised except when the Cross of Christ has appeared? And this no one
doubts when he sees [10] the martyr despising death for the sake of Christ, when he
sees for Christ's sake the virgins of the Church keeping themselves pure and
undefiled.
80. 'And these signs are sufficient to prove that the faith of Christ
alone is the true religion. But see! you still do not believe and are seeking for
arguments. We however make our proof "not in the persuasive words of Greek
wisdom [11]" as our teacher has it, but we persuade by the faith which manifestly
precedes argumentative proof. Behold there are here some vexed with
demons;'--now there were certain who had come to him very disquieted by demons, and
bringing them into the midst he said,--'Do you cleanse them either by arguments and by
whatever art or magic you choose, calling upon your idols, or if you are
unable, put away your strife with us and you shall see the power of the Cross of
Christ.' And having said this he called upon Christ, and signed the sufferers two
or three times with the sign of the Cross. And immediately the men stood up
whole, and in their right mind, and forthwith gave thanks unto the Lord. And the
philosophers, as they are called, wondered, and were astonished exceedingly at
the understanding of the man and at the sign which had been wrought. But Antony
said, 'Why marvel ye at this? We are not the doers of these things, but it is
Christ who worketh them by means of those who believe on Him. Believe,
therefore, also yourselves, and you shall see that with us there is no trick of words,
but faith through love which is wrought in us towards Christ; which if you
yourselves should obtain you will no longer seek demonstrative arguments, but will
consider faith in Christ sufficient.' These are the words of Antony. And they
marvelling at this also, saluted him and departed, confessing the benefit they
had received from him [12].
81. And the fame of Antony came even unto kings. For Constantine Augustus,
and his sons Constantius and Constans the Augusti wrote letters to him, as to
a father, and begged an answer from him. But he made nothing very much of the
letters, nor did he rejoice at the messages. but was the same as he had been
before the Emperors wrote to him. But when they brought him the letters he called
the monks and said, 'Do not be astonished if an emperor writes to us, for he is
a man; but rather wonder that God wrote the Law for men and has spoken to us
[13] through His own Son.' And so he was unwilling to receive the letters,
saying that he did not know how to write an answer to such things. But being urged
by the monks because the emperors were Christians, and lest they should take
offence on the ground that they had been spurned, he consented that they should be
read, and wrote an answer approving them because they worshipped Christ, and
giving them counsel on things pertaining to salvation: 'not to think much of the
present, but rather to remember the judgment that is coming, and to know that
Christ alone was the true and Eternal King.' He begged them to be merciful and
to give heed to justice and the poor. And they having received the answer
rejoiced. Thus he was dear to all, and all desired to consider him as a father.
82. Being known to be so great a man, therefore, and having thus given
answers to those who visited him, he returned again to the inner mountain, and
maintained his wonted discipline. And often when people-came to him, as he was
sitting or walking, as it is written in Daniel [14], he became dumb, and after a
season he resumed the thread of what he had been saying before to the brethren
who were with him. And his companions perceived that he was seeing a vision. For
often when he was on the mountains he saw what was happening in Egypt, and
told it to Sera-pion the bishop [15], who was indoors with him, and who saw that
Antony was wrapped in a vision. Once as he was sitting and working, he fell, as
it were, into a trance, and groaned much at what he saw. Then after a time,
having turned to the bystanders with groans and trembling, he prayed, and falling
on his knees remained so a long time. And having arisen the old man wept. His
companions, therefore, trembling and terrified, desired to learn from him what
it was. And they troubled him much, until he was forced to speak. And with many
groans he spake as follows: 'O, my children, it were better to die before what
has appeared in the vision come to pass.' And when again they asked him, having
burst into tears, he said, 'Wrath is about to seize the Church, and it is on
the point of being given up to men who are like senseless beasts. For I saw the
table of the Lord's House, and mules standing around it on all sides in a ring,
and kicking the things therein, just like a herd kicks when it leaps in
confusion. And you saw,' said he, 'how I groaned, for I heard a voice saying, "My
altar shall be defiled."' These things the old man saw, and after two years the
present [16] inroad of the Arians and the plunder of the churches took place,
when they violently carried off the vessels, and made the heathen carry them; and
when they forced the heathen from the prisons to join in their services, and in
their presence did upon the Table as they would. Then we all understood that
these kicks of the mules signified to Antony what the Arians, senselessly like
beasts, are now doing. But when he saw this vision, he comforted those with him,
saying, 'Be not downcast, my children; for as the Lord has been angry, so
again will He heal us, and the Church shall soon again receive her own order, and
shall shine forth as she is wont. And you shall behold the persecuted restored,
and wickedness again withdrawn to its own hiding-place, and pious faith
speaking boldly in every place with all freedom. Only defile [17] not yourselves with
the Arians, for their teaching is not that of the Apostles, but that of demons
and their father the devil; yea, rather, it is barren and senseless, and
without light understanding, like the senselessness of these mules.'
83. Such are the words of Antony, and we ought not to doubt whether such
marvels were wrought by the hand of a man. For it is the promise of the Saviour,
when He saith, 'If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say to
this mountain, remove hence and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible
unto yours [18].' And again, 'Verily, verily, I say unto you, if ye shall ask
the father in My name He will give it you. Ask and ye shall receive [19].' And
He himself it is who saith to His disciples and to all who believe on Him, '
Heal the sick, cast out demons; freely ye have received, freely give [20].'
84. Antony, at any rate, healed not by commanding, but by prayer and
speaking the name of Christ. So that it was clear to all that it was not he himself
who worked, but the Lord who showed mercy by his means and healed the
sufferers. But Antony's part was only prayer and discipline, for the sake of which he
stayed in the mountain, rejoicing in the contemplation of divine things, but
grieving when troubled by much people, and dragged to the outer mountain. For all
judges used to ask him to come down, because it was impossible for them to enter
on account of their following of litigants. But nevertheless they asked him to
come that they might but see him. When therefore he avoided it and refused to
go to them, they remained firm, and sent to him all the more the prisoners
under charge of soldiers, that on account of these he might come down. Being forced
by necessity, and seeing them lamenting, he came into the outer mountain, and
again his labour was not unprofitable. For his coming was advantageous and
serviceable to many; and he was of profit to the judges, counselling them to prefer
justice to all things; to fear God, and to know, 'that with what judgment they
judged, they should be judged [1].' But he loved more than all things his
sojourn in the mountain.
85. At another time, suffering the same compulsion at the hands of them
who had need, and after many entreaties from the commander of the soldiers, he
came down, and when he was come he spoke to them shortly of the things which make
for salvation, and concerning those who wanted him, and was hastening away.
But when the duke, as he is called, entreated him to stay, he replied that he
could not linger among them, and persuaded him by a pretty simile, saying,
'Fishes, if they remain long on dry land, die. And so monks lose their strength if
they loiter among you and spend their time with you. Wherefore as fish must hurry
to the sea, so must we hasten to the mountain. Lest haply if we delay we forget
the things within us.' And the general having heard this and many other things
from him, was amazed and said, 'Of a truth this man is the servant of God.
For, unless he were beloved of God, whence could an ignorant man have such great
understanding?'
86. And a certain general, Balacius by name, persecuted us Christians
bitterly on account of his regard for the Arians--that name of ill-omen. And as his
ruthlessness, was so great that he beat virgins, and stripped and scourged
monks, Antony at this time wrote a letter as follows, and sent it to him. 'I see
wrath coming upon thee, wherefore cease to persecute the Christians, lest haply
wrath catch hold of thee, for even now it is on the point of coming upon
thee[2].' But Balacius laughed and threw the letter on the ground, and spit on it,
and insulted the bearers, bidding them tell this to Antony: 'Since thou takest
thought for the monks, soon I will come after thee also.' And five days had not
passed before wrath came upon him. For Balacius and Nestorius, the Prefect of
Egypt[3], went forth to the first halting-place from Alexandria, which is called
Chaereu, and both were on horseback, and the horses belonged to Balacius, and
were the quietest of all his stable. But they had not gone far towards the place
when the horses began to frisk with one another as they are wont to do; and
suddenly the quieter, on which Nestorius sat[4], with a bite dismounted Balacius,
and attacked him, and tore his thigh so badly with its teeth that he was borne
straight back to the city, and in three days died. And all wondered because
what Antony had foretold had been so speedily fulfilled.
87. Thus, therefore, he warned the cruel. But the rest who came to him he
so instructed that they straightway forgot their lawsuits, and felicitated
those who were in retirement from the world. And he championed those who were
wronged in such a way that you would imagine that he, and not the others, was the
sufferer. Further, he was able to be of such use to all, that many soldiers and
men who had great possessions laid aside the burdens of life, and became monks
for the rest of their days. And it was as if a physician had been given by God
to Egypt. For who in grief met Antony and did not return rejoicing? Who came
mourning for his dead and did not forthwith put off his sorrow? Who came in anger
and was not converted to friendship? What poor and low-spirited man met him
who, hearing him and looking upon him, did not despise wealth and console himself
in his poverty? What monk, having being neglectful, came to him and became not
all the stronger? What young man having come to the mountain and seen Antony,
did not forthwith deny himself pleasure and love temperance? Who when tempted by
a demon, came to him and did not find rest? And who came troubled with doubts
and did not get quietness of mind?
88. For this was the wonderful thing in Antony's discipline, that, as I
said before, having the gift of discerning spirits, he recognised their
movements, and was not ignorant whither any one of them turned his energy and made his
attack. And not only was he not deceived by them himself, but cheering those who
were troubled with doubts, he taught them how to defeat their plans, telling
them of the weakness and craft of those who possessed them. Thus each one, as
though prepared by him for battle, came down from the mountain, braving the
designs of the devil and his demons. How many maidens who had suitors, having but
seen Antony from afar, remained maidens for Christ's sake. And people came also
from foreign parts to him, and like all others, having got some benefit,
returned, as though set forward by a father. And certainly when he died, all as having
been bereft of a father, consoled themselves solely by their remembrances of
him, preserving at the same time his counsel and advice.
89. It is worth while that I should relate, and that you, as you wish it,
should hear what his death was like. For this end of his is worthy of
imitation. According to his custom he visited the monks in the outer mountain, and
having learned from Providence that his own end was at hand, he said to the
brethren, 'This is my last visit to you which I shall make. And I shall be surprised if
we see each other again in this life. At length the time of my departure is at
hand, for I am near a hundred and five years old.' And when they heard it they
wept, and embraced, and kissed the old man. But he, as though sailing from a
foreign city to his own, spoke joyously, and exhorted them 'Not to grow idle in
their labours, nor to become faint in their training, but to live as though
dying daily. And as he had said before, zealously to guard the soul from foul
thoughts, eagerly to imitate the Saints, and to have nought to do with the Meletian
schismatics, for you know their wicked and profane character. Nor have any
fellowship with the Arians, for their impiety is clear to all. Nor be disturbed if
you see the judges protect them, for it shall cease, and their pomp is mortal
and of short duration. Wherefore keep yourselves all the more untainted by
them, and observe the traditions of the fathers, and chiefly the holy faith in our
Lord Jesus Christ, which you have learned from the Scripture, and of which you
have often been put in mind by me.'
90. But when the brethren were urging him to abide with them and there to
die, he suffered. it not for many other reasons, as he showed by keeping
silence, and especially for this:--The Egyptians are wont to honour with funeral
rites, and to wrap in linen cloths at death the bodies of good men, and especially
of the holy martyrs; and not to bury them underground, but to place them on
couches, and to keep them in their houses, thinking in this to honour the
departed. And Antony often urged the bishops to give commandment to the people on this
matter. In like manner he taught the laity and reproved the women, saying,
'that this thing was neither lawful nor holy at all. For the bodies of the
patriarchs and prophets are until now preserved in tombs, and the very body of the Lord
was laid in a tomb, and a stone was laid upon it, and hid it until He rose on
the third day[4a].' And thus saying, he showed that he who did not bury the
bodies of the dead after death transgressed the law, even though they were sacred.
For what is greater or more sacred than the body of the Lord? Many therefore
having heard, henceforth buried the dead underground, and gave thanks to the
Lord that they had been taught rightly.
91. But he, knowing the custom, and fearing that his body would be treated
this way, hastened, and having bidden farewell to the monks in the outer
mountain entered the inner mountain, where he was accustomed to abide. And after a
few months he fell sick. Having summoned those who were there--they were two in
number who had remained in the mountain fifteen years, practising the
discipline and attending on Antony on account of his age--he said to them, 'I, as it is
written[5], go the way of the fathers, for I perceive that I am called by the
Lord, And do you be watchful and destroy not your long discipline, but as
though now making a beginning, zealously preserve your determination. For ye know
the treachery of the demons, how fierce they are, but how little power they have
Where fore fear them not, but rather ever breathe Christ, and trust Him. Live
as though dying daily. Give heed to yourselves, and remember the admonition you
have heard from me. Have no fellowship with the schismatics, nor any dealings
at all with the heretical Arians. For you know how I shunned them on account of
their hostility to Christ, and the strange doctrines of their heresy.
Therefore be the more earnest always to be followers first of God and then of the
Saints; that after death they also may receive you as well-known friends into the
eternal habitations. Ponder over these things and think of them, and if you have
any care for me and are mindful of me as of a father, suffer no one to take my
body into Egypt, lest haply they place me in the houses[6], for to avoid this
I entered into the mountain and came here. Moreover you know how I always put
to rebuke those who had this custom, and exhorted them to cease from it. Bury my
body, therefore, and hide it underground yourselves, and let my words be
observed by you that no one may know the place[6a] but you alone. For at the
resurrection of the dead I shall receive it incorruptible from the Saviour. And divide
my garments. To Athanasius the bishop give one sheepskin and the garment
whereon I am laid, which he himself gave me new, but which with me has grown old. To
Serapion the bishop give the other sheepskin, and keep the hair garment
yourselves[7]. For the rest fare ye well, my children, for Antony is departing, and
is with you no more.'
92. Having said this, when they had kissed him, he lifted up his feet, and
as though he saw friends coming to him and was glad because o them--for as he
lay his countenance appeared joyful--he died and was gathered to the fathers.
And they afterward, according to his commandment, wrapped him up and buried him,
hiding his body underground. And no one knows to this day where it was buried,
save those two only. But each of those who received the sheepskin of the
blessed Antony and the garment worn by him guards it as a precious treasure. For
even to look on them is as it were to behold Antony; and he who is clothed in them
seems with joy to bear his admonitions.
93. This is the end of Antony's life in the body and the above was the
beginning of the discipline. Even if this account is small compared with his
merit, still from this reflect how great Antony, the man of God, was. Who from his
youth to so great an age preserved a uniform zeal for the discipline, and
neither through old age was subdued by the desire of costly food, nor through the
infirmity of his body changed the fashion of his clothing, nor washed even his
feet with water, and yet remained entirely free from harm. For his eyes were
undimmed and quite sound and he saw clearly; of his teeth he had not lost one, but
they had become worn to the gums through the great age of the old man. He
remained strong both in hands and feet; and while all men were using various foods,
and washings and divers garments, he appeared more cheerful and of greater
strength. And the fact that his fame has been blazoned everywhere; that all regard
him with wonder, and that those who have never seen him long for him, is clear
proof of his virtue and God's love of his soul. For not from writings, nor from
worldly wisdom, nor through any art, was Antony renowned, but solely from his
piety towards God. That this was the gift of God no one will deny. For from
whence into Spain and into Gaul, how into Rome and Africa, was the man heard of who
abode hidden in a mountain, unless it was God who maketh His own known
everywhere, who also promised this to Antony at the beginning? For even if they work
secretly, even if they wish to remain in obscurity, yet the Lord shows them as
lamps to lighten all, that those who hear may thus know that the precepts of God
are able to make men prosper and thus be zealous in the path of virtue.
94. Read these words, therefore, to the rest of the brethren that they may
learn what the life of monks ought to be; and may believe that our Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ glorifies those who glorify Him: and leads those who serve
Him unto the end, not only to the kingdom of heaven, but here also--even though
they hide themselves and are desirous of withdrawing from the world--makes them
illustrious and well known everywhere on account of their virtue and the help
they render others. And if need be, read this among the heathen, that even in
this way they may learn that our Lord Jesus Christ is not only God and the Son
of God, but also that the Christians who truly serve Him and religiously believe
on Him, prove, not only that the demons, whom the Greeks themselves think to
be gods, are no gods, but also tread them under foot and put them to flight, as
deceivers and corrupters of mankind, through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom be
glory for ever and ever. Amen.