Theodosius „der Große"

ON ST. THEODOSIUS THE COENOBIARCH, NEAR JERUSALEM IN JUDAEA.

A.D. 529.

Theodosius the Coenobiarch in Judaea (S.)

From various sources.

Section I. The feast of St. Theodosius and his sacred honors.

[1] Four men named Theodosius illuminated the Church in one century: two Emperors and two Archimandrites. The former were distinguished by prudence, piety, and zeal for the Catholic religion, and the elder also by military valor; the latter by sanctity of life and the glory of miracles. To each of the latter pair public veneration has been decreed on one and the same day of the sacred calendar. Two holy men named Theodosius on this day. The former receives veneration almost solely from the Greeks, as we have said above; the latter also from the Latins. The first was an Antiochene and founded ^a celebrated monastery in Cilicia, called "on the Cliff"; the second, ^a Cappadocian, built ^a monastery in Palestine, of which more shortly. The second was younger, born some years after the death of the first, so that he was expounding sacred Scripture to the people when the Emperor Theodosius II departed this life in the year 450. A quite different person from these was the pseudo-bishop Theodosius of Jerusalem, ^a Eutychian who became ^a monk, who lived in the time of the Emperor Marcian, as will be said below in the life of St. Euthymius on January 20th.

[2] The feast of St. Theodosius the Coenobiarch. The Greeks thus celebrate the feast of St. Theodosius the Coenobiarch on this day in the Menologion published by Canisius: "Commemoration of our holy Father Theodosius the Coenobiarch, from the town of Marissa in Cappadocia." He is also recorded in the Horologion and in the Menologia of Maximus, Bishop of Cythera, and Christophorus, Proconsul of Mitylene; also in the Calendar of the Greeks published by Genebrardus, and in the same words by Molanus in his Additions to Usuard: "On the eleventh day, of our holy Father Theodosius the Coenobiarch." The Roman Martyrology: "In Cappadocia, in the village of Magariassus, of St. Theodosius the Coenobiarch, who suffered much for the Catholic faith." Galesinius, following the Greek Euchologion, records him on January 10th: "In Greece, of St. Theodosius the Coenobiarch. He was of incredible abstinence, so that for thirty full years he did not taste bread, living on the fruit of the palm and ^a few carob pods; and while he thus denied food to his body, he fed his soul day and night with constant contemplation of heavenly things." The German Martyrology follows Galesinius.

[3] The Menaea proclaim the following about him: "This venerable holy Father of ours, Theodosius, born in the village of Mogarisus in Cappadocia Life from the Menaea. to Christian and very devout parents, Proaeresius and Eulogia, embraced the monastic life and put on the sacred garment of religion. Setting out for Jerusalem, he then went to Antioch, where he met Simeon, the renowned Stylite, by whom the future sanctity of his life was foretold to him -- that he would be the Pastor of ^a great flock of rational sheep. Then, instructed in divine matters in solitude by ^a certain most praiseworthy man named Longinus, he attained such abstinence that he refreshed his body with food only once ^a week, and finally for ^a full thirty years did not taste bread. Equally in other pursuits of virtue he advanced so much that, having risen to the summit of piety, he performed illustrious miracles. Miracles. He saw ^a certain monk named Basilius, who had died and been placed in ^a tomb, standing with the Brothers and singing psalms, together with another monk. He kindled coals without any fire set beneath them, in the place where he was to found the monastery. He freed ^a woman who came to him from ^a hemorrhage. From ^a single grain of wheat, through prayer, he filled entire granaries. He rescued ^a boy who had fallen into the deep pit of ^a well by an invisible presence. He halted miscarriages -- children who, as they came forth into life prematurely, were driven out of life through death; wherefore he made the mother fertile despite this condition, as if she had been barren. He drove away ^a vast swarm of locusts by rebuking them with ^a word. He rendered Kericus, the Count of the East, invulnerable by his own haircloth garment, with which he had clothed him as ^a breastplate. He refreshed crops damaged by the heat of the earth by obtaining rain through prayer. He foretold the great ruin of Antioch by earthquake. He rescued many who had been shipwrecked from peril as they struggled with the waves. Having become the author of the religious life for many, he departed from this life to the Lord. His solemn feast day is celebrated in the venerable church of the blessed Apostle Peter." Thus far the Menaea. The woman who is said here to have been freed from ^a hemorrhage is reported in the Life, no. 58, to have suffered from cancer in her breast. The same account, though with most of the miracles omitted, is read in the Anthologion of the Greeks, approved by Clement VIII.

Section II. Writers of the life of St. Theodosius.

[4] Lipomanus published the life of St. Theodosius from Metaphrastes in his volume 5, and from him Surius. The published life. Baronius interwove very many passages from it into volumes 6 and 7 of his Annals. We present the same text collated with ^a Greek manuscript of the Vatican Library and corrected in many places. The same text exists, though abridged, in Latin in the lives by Franciscus Haraeus and Lippeloo, and the Fasti Mariani; published in Italian by Gabriele Flamma; in Spanish by our Ribadeneira, etc.

[5] Baronius asserts in his Notes on the Martyrology that these Acts are most worthy of acceptance, and in vol. 6 of the Annals, at A.D. 511, no. 20, that they are described with the utmost accuracy, They are solid, even though by an unknown author -- yet certainly one contemporary -- so that there is nothing that could rightly be called into doubt, since the truth is consistent in every part. That the author was ^a contemporary is shown by what he writes about the Emperor Anastasius in no. 45: Written by ^a contemporary. "Our time also once bore an Emperor, who at first had been (as far as appeared) ^a paradise of delight, but in the end was known by his deeds to be ^a field of destruction, and one, namely, of those shepherds who scatter and destroy the sheep of their flock, and give them turbid waters of subversion to drink; and, to pass over his other deeds, this indeed the time that follows after us will receive."

[6] Baronius conjectures that this author was the monk Cyril, by whom the Acts of Saints Euthymius, Baronius believes the author was Cyril. Sabas, and John the Silentiary were written. Thus he writes at A.D. 491, no. 14: "But the lives of Theodosius the Coenobiarch and of Quiriacus the Anchorite, who flourished in the same times as most holy men, are also believed to be by the same author. But because those lack the author's inscription, they are published under the name of him who last edited them, Metaphrastes, although he himself merely transcribed what had been written in antiquity." And at the year 511, no. 21: "Although the author is unknown by name, I believe him to be this same Cyril, who, just as he wrote the lives of Saints Sabas and Euthymius and John the Silentiary and others, so it is scarcely credible that he would have passed over Theodosius, whom he had before his eyes, and neglected to hand down to posterity the illustrious deeds performed by him -- deeds by no means to be buried in silence because of their inherent dignity. I conjecture that the name of the author Cyril was obliterated by some careless person who, referring it to Cyril, Bishop of Jerusalem, who flourished under the Emperor Constantius, falsely thought that the history was attributed to Cyril -- ^a history in which events under the Emperors Leo, Zeno, and Anastasius are treated -- not knowing the noble historian Cyril himself, ^a Palestinian, who lived at this time."

[7] Such is the conjecture of Baronius. Cyril was quite young at the time The age and manner of life of Cyril. when St. Sabas returned from the embassy he had undertaken to the Emperor Justinian in the year 530, not long surviving thereafter. At that time Cyril's parents came to him at Scythopolis and obtained ^a blessing for the boy himself. Thus Cyril writes about himself in the life of St. Sabas: "When the great Sabas had looked upon me and greeted me and deigned to give me his blessing, he said to my father: 'This child is from now on my disciple. Let him therefore be taught the psalter, for I have need of him.'" In the life of St. Quiriacus on September 29th, he is said to have been from the monastery of the great Euthymius, and to have come from the Laura of the great Euthymius to the Laura of the blessed Sabas to see John the Silentiary, the Bishop, whose letter-bearer he became to the blessed Quiriacus, and from him he learned the deeds of Saints Euthymius and Sabas, which he wrote down. More on January 20th in the life of St. Euthymius. This suffices for his profession and age to be recognized.

[8] We nevertheless judge the author of the life of St. Theodosius to be someone other than Cyril -- He does not seem to have written this life; if only because nowhere in it is mention made either of St. Euthymius or certainly of St. Sabas, between whom and St. Theodosius the closest friendship and familiarity is known to have existed, as will be evident below in Section 5. Furthermore, Cyril is prolix in describing circumstances of place, time, companions, etc., which the other author barely touches upon. Finally, he cites himself elsewhere and the lives he has written; but not even in the Acts of St. Sabas, where he mentions St. Theodosius so often, does he indicate even slightly that the life was composed by him.

[9] Below in no. 40 it is said that many men distinguished for learning embraced the institution of St. Theodosius. But another anonymous author. And in no. 39, that many Bishops and Pastors of the Church, and Superiors of various monasteries, went forth from this training. Why should not some of these have described the illustrious virtues of their best Teacher and Father? That this was done not long after his death, perhaps under his successor, is indicated by the cited passage, in which both those trained under St. Theodosius and those trained under his successor are enumerated. Among the disciples of Theodosius was Julian, Praise of Julian of Bostra, whom the great Theodosius, as is read in no. 71, always had as companion of his life lived for Christ, and wished him to philosophize with him and to be his companion in solitude. From his account, or perhaps even from his written records, this author appears to have drawn not ^a few things, as may be conjectured from what is said in ch. 16, no. 71. Julian was indeed ^a great man, ^a disciple worthy of so great ^a master, who was made Bishop of Bostra even during the lifetime of his teacher, and was forced to flee voluntarily because he would not consent to the heretic Severus of Antioch, as Evagrius records, book 3, ch. 33. He is the same man whose life -- or rather, the miracle of ^a poisoned chalice, drunk harmlessly after the sign of the cross had first been made -- is narrated in ch. 94 of the Spiritual Meadow by John Moschus; and John Moschus; who himself, as is related in the preface of that work, first renounced the world in the monastery of our holy Father Theodosius, Abbot and Archimandrite of all the monasteries or convents near Jerusalem. At the cemetery of this monastery his relics, brought from Rome where he had died, rest. The place of the cemetery is ^a cave in which, when Herod had been deceived by the Magi, where he was buried. those men, departing thence according to the oracle of the Gospel, stayed when they returned to their homeland. "In this cave our holy Father Theodosius, when he had completed the contests of the religious life, was given the grace of casting out demons -- and not only in this temporary and brief life, but even after death he casts them out to this day, to the glory and praise of Christ, the true God and our Savior, to whom be glory forever and ever, Amen." These words are from the Eulogy of the Author, prefixed from Greek manuscripts to the later edition by our Rosweyde, which we suspect was composed after the death of Moschus himself by some monk of the same monastery. Many passages from it are cited in the Library of Photius, Section 199. The things related here about the Magi, the burial, and the power of St. Theodosius over demons are the same as those read in the Life, nos. 9, 10, etc., which it is reasonable to conjecture had been written long before, since Moschus would not otherwise have failed to commemorate his virtues unless ^a written account of them had already been in everyone's hands.

Section III. His age. The time of his death.

[10] While Cyril was diligent and accurate in noting the chronology, this author almost entirely neglected it, content to have said only this in no. 84: that St. Theodosius died having lived one hundred and five years and ^a little more. From this, if either the year of birth or of death is known, the rest can easily be deduced. The time of death (for it is the things he did chiefly in old age that are more carefully described) must be investigated first. St. Theodosius survived the Emperor Anastasius (no. 55), who died in A.D. 518. The time of his death is examined. He foretold the earthquake at Antioch (no. 76) several days before it happened, in A.D. 526. Peter III, Patriarch of Jerusalem of that name, attended his burial (no. 87); Peter succeeded John II, who died on April 22, 524, Indiction 2, and himself closed his last day in A.D. 546. These details come from the Life. Nicephorus Callistus, book 17 of his Ecclesiastical History, ch. 24, writes thus: "While Justinian was still administering the empire, He was still alive in August 527. both the great Sabas and the illustrious Theodosius, presiders over the desert, were still surviving. But Theodosius first passed to God. Sabas, however, then in his ninetieth year, was sent as ambassador ^a second time from the Bishop of Aelia to Constantinople to Justinian, traveling in ^a frail and quite feeble old age." The Samaritans, having created ^a certain Julian as their king, had inflicted many injuries upon the Christians with great pride, etc. -- which Nicephorus drew from the life of St. Sabas, where Cyril relates the same events thus: "When Justinian had now assumed the empire and taken up the administration of affairs, the blessed Sabas was in his ninety-first year, and the divine Theodosius had reached the end of his life. He died before the Samaritan uprising of 529. The Samaritan people in Palestine, having created ^a certain Julian -- who was himself also ^a Samaritan -- as their king, were inflicting many injuries on the Christians," etc. Our Petavius, book 13 of his De Doctrina Temporum, writes that in A.D. 529, in the month of June, this Julian was appointed king by the rebelling Samaritans and Jews, and was afterward slain with his rebels by the forces of Justinian. In the following year, 530, he records the embassy of St. Sabas to Justinian, at which time St. Sabas was in his ninety-first year, having been born under the seventeenth consulship of Theodosius, that is, in A.D. 439, as appears from Cyril's statement at the beginning of the life of St. Sabas. St. Theodosius therefore died on this 11th of January, A.D. 529, before the Samaritan sedition had begun, He died January 11, 529. in the second year of the reign of Justinian, who had succeeded his uncle Justin, who died on the 1st or 2nd of August 527 (authors vary), after having been created Emperor by him on the preceding Kalends of April, ^a Thursday, at the Lord's Supper. St. Theodosius therefore survived about one year and five or nine months under his reign. During this time Kericus won ^a victory over the Persians, clothed in St. Theodosius's haircloth and previously encouraged by his admonition, as is told in nos. 73 and 74. With these things thus established, St. Theodosius was born in A.D. 423. He departed from his homeland, after having long read sacred Scripture to the people (no. 4), in the twenty-eighth year of his age, A.D. 451, while the Council of Chalcedon was being assembled.

[11] Whether he died after Sabas, as Baronius, in vol. 7 of the Annals of the Church, at A.D. 532, no. 21, thinks that Theodosius closed his last day long after St. Sabas and was still living in the time of Pope Agapetus; and therefore that what was added in the Acts of Sabas -- namely, that Theodosius died before him -- must plainly be corrected. Baronius claims. Thus Baronius. But how does he prove that this was added to the Acts? He himself, in vol. 6, at A.D. 475, no. 43, had called this Cyril ^a diligent and truth-loving historian flourishing at that time. Cyril the historian, praised by Baronius. And at A.D. 491, no. 5, he had called his history worthy of being known and congruent with the Ecclesiastical Annals; "especially since," he says, "it was written by the monk Cyril, ^a disciple of the admirable Euthymius, who lived in these times." "Let it be said without offense: I have found no one after Saints Athanasius and Jerome who wrote the deeds of the holiest men with greater fidelity, arranging and accurately distinguishing them by chronology, than Cyril himself, while he handed down to posterity, as ^a sacrosanct deposit, the sincere truth -- free from any slight suspicion of falsehood -- of what he himself had seen or had learned from the account of men of the most outstanding probity: namely the Acts of Euthymius, and likewise of Sabas and John the Silentiary." Why then do we not accept this history of so great ^a writer as intact and untouched, cited with honor even by the Fathers of the Second Council of Nicaea in the first session?

[12] Baronius draws his reason for correcting these Acts from vol. 7, at A.D. 536, no. 1, where, after relating from the Council of Constantinople under Mennas, Session 1, the petition of the monks presented to Pope Agapetus against Anthimus, Severus, and the other heretics, he adds: [Whether Theodosius was alive at the time of the Council of Constantinople, A.D. 536.] "Among others, there was present ^a delegation from the great Theodosius the Coenobiarch, about whom many most praiseworthy things pertaining to the faith have been narrated above. For Hesychius the Priest of his monastery, the legate of Theodosius, is read as having subscribed to the same petition. Theodosius himself was indeed still living, about whom these things are read in his life, after other contests undertaken for the orthodox faith: 'When he who nobly held the See of Old Rome (and that was Agapetus) Praised by Pope Agapetus. and he who governed the See of Antioch, Ephraim, had learned about him, they too preached the right faith to the peoples. In these writings many things were composed to the praise of this Blessed man, which brought no less glory to those who had written them than to him who was praised, since the praise was directed not toward flattery but plainly toward truth.'" Thus Baronius. But neither Pope Agapetus nor Patriarch Ephraim are said to have praised St. Theodosius while he was alive; rather, since his contest with the Emperor Anastasius for the orthodox faith, already begun long before, is there joined to this praise in no. 55, it seems that the petition presented by his successors provided the occasion for praising Theodosius, who had not long since died -- their most pious Father and founder of the monastery. Agapetus was created on June 2, 535, and died the following year.

[13] Furthermore, it is difficult to prove that this Hesychius (who is also called Isychius or Isichius) was sent by the blessed Theodosius while he was still alive, and not rather by Sophronius, his successor. For thus in Session 1 of the same Council, in the petition presented by the same monks after the death of Agapetus, it is subscribed: Hesychius was the legate of Sophronius, not of Theodosius. "Hesychius, by divine mercy Priest and monk of the monastery of the blessed Abbot Theodosius, holding the place of Sophronius, Priest and Archimandrite of the same monastery and first of all the desert of Jerusalem, together with all those Archimandrites of Jerusalem who were sent with me to this royal city, who act on behalf of all the Archimandrites and monks who inhabit the said desert and the three Palestines, who together with me made supplication; I subscribed with the consent of all and presented this." Indeed this Hesychius, who together with the Deacon Polyeuctus and the monk Julian, both alumni of the same monastery of the blessed Theodosius, attended that Council, is sometimes called Ambassador (as in Sessions 2 and 4), sometimes Prior (as in Session 5), and sometimes even Archimandrite (as in Sessions 1 and 5) -- either because he was already Superior of some other monastery subject to the Theodosian one, or because after the death of Sophronius he succeeded him, and the title of Archimandrite was added in the manuscripts by scribes. Gregory the Archimandrite presided over this monastery in the time of the Emperor Tiberius, around A.D. 580, as mentioned by John Moschus in chapters 92, 93, and 94 of the Spiritual Meadow. Other Abbots of the monastery of St. Theodosius. In the Eulogy of John Moschus, when his body was brought back from Rome to this monastery in the year 619 or the beginning of 620 (as may be gathered from the beginning of the eighth indiction), the superior is named as George, perhaps the successor of that Gregory.

[14] We had argued these things about the age of St. Theodosius tentatively and somewhat timidly -- since it was against the opinion of the great author of the Ecclesiastical Annals -- yet never setting our foot on anything but solid ground; when ^a new argument was presented to us by which to confirm our conjecture, and of such ^a kind that we judge it cannot be overturned. Irrefutable testimony concerning the age of St. Theodosius. For the life of St. Sabas published by Metaphrastes, cited by us thus far and to be cited again below, because it is in everyone's hands -- we obtained it translated into Latin from an ancient codex written before A.D. 1034, before the age of Metaphrastes himself. From this text we observed, first, that the published version had been slightly amplified here and there by Metaphrastes; and second, we learned the year and day of St. Theodosius's death. For it reads as follows: "At the beginning of the ninety-first year of the age of our Father Sabas, the aforesaid blessed Theodosius, now an old man and full of days, leaving this earthly life, passed to heaven, in the month of January, on the eleventh day, in the seventh Indiction. Sophronius succeeded him in the governance of the monastery, ^a man quite accomplished in monastic practices. After the death of Abbot Theodosius, the Samaritans, making an incursion, stirred up all the people of Palestine, committing many unlawful deeds, plundering and burning churches, killing Christians without any mercy, and setting the whole region on fire. Coming to Neapolis and growing exceedingly proud, they set up ^a certain Julian as their emperor; and invading the city, they killed the Bishop, ^a man full of holiness named Mamon. Similarly, seizing certain priests, they tore them with various tortures and delivered them to the fire; and they rendered the roads called royal impassable to Christians."

Section IV. The site of the monastery of St. Theodosius.

[15] What is named above in Section I, nos. 2 and 3, in the Martyrologies as the seat of St. Theodosius -- Cappadocia, The homeland of St. Theodosius. Greece, and the village of Magariassus (which in the Anthologion is Mogarissos, in the Vatican Library manuscript of the Life Mogariassos, and in the Menologion Marissus) -- is not to be understood as if he died there or spent the chief part of his life there, but rather that around A.D. 423, as we have said, he was born and raised there until the twenty-eighth year of his age, and expounded sacred Scripture to the people.

[16] From there, in A.D. 451, when the Fourth Ecumenical Council was being celebrated at Chalcedon, he set out for Jerusalem and stayed there for several years, imbibing the spirit of the solitary life. The solitary life. He then went into ^a nearby wilderness, which John Moschus in the Spiritual Meadow, chs. 92 and 105, calls the desert of the holy city of Christ our Lord. Here he inhabited the cave to which tradition says the Magi turned aside after adoring Christ at Bethlehem, when they were commanded by an Angel to return to their own provinces by another way. Moschus, ch. 105, reports that the descent into this cave was by eighteen steps.

[17] His fame for sanctity then attracted others, who submitted themselves to his discipline and provided the occasion for building ^a famous monastery there. The place of the monastery was divinely shown. Having prayed that the place where he should establish the monastery might be divinely shown to him, by divine instinct he filled ^a censer with coals, placed incense upon it without fire, and carried it in all directions through the Judaean wilderness. He crossed to the shores of the Dead Sea; when the attempt did not yet succeed, he returned to the cave. He approached again, and behold, he saw smoke rising from the coals. He laid the foundations and built ^a temple and monastery, which he afterward made very large by extending its bounds and building four temples within it, as is said in no. 37. The first and principal part of it, near the cave, is called Cathisma in the life of St. Sabas, in these words: "Theodosius had already withdrawn from the church called Cathisma, and in the part of the Laura that faces west he had established ^a monastery suited to the common life, distant from the Laura (of St. Sabas) thirty-five stadia" -- that is, about one and ^a half Belgian miles, or four thousand paces.

[18] At this time they called ^a "Laura" the dwellings or cells of monks, which they distinguished by adding proper names -- such as the Laura of St. Euthymius, of St. Sabas, of Pharan, etc. Its origin seems to be traced back to the river Laura, which gave its name to the neighboring region through which it flows Whence the name Laura. and to the monasteries built in it. Concerning this Laura, the following is written in the life of St. Quiriacus on September 29th: "The divine Quiriacus again came to that part of the wilderness in which no anchorite had either remained or ever passed through. The place was called by the inhabitants Susacim, and in it both the streams of the New Laura and of the Suca river converge -- the greatest and deepest of those we know. They are said to be those of which it was said by David to Christ: 'You dried up the rivers of Ethan.'" Ps. 78:15.

[19] St. Isidore of Pelusium, when consulted about this place by the Deacon Epiphanius, responds in book 2, letter 66: The place Ethan. "Ethan was ^a place in Palestine watered by rivers and abounding in trees and fruits, and suitable for hunting on account of the abundance of large animals and fish," etc. He then cites the authority of Josephus, whose words are these, Jewish Antiquities, book 8, ch. 2: "There was ^a certain estate at ^a distance of two schoeni from Jerusalem, named Ettan, pleasant and rich with gardens and piped-in springs; Solomon delighted in making excursions there." A schoenus (schoinos) Schoenus. is an Egyptian measurement of land containing sixty stadia, according to Herodotus, book 2, ch. 6, although Pliny, book 12, ch. 14, says forty stadia -- where, however, Budaeus in his earlier Annotations suspects an error in the numerals. This place was therefore about seven thousand five hundred paces, or about two and ^a half hours' journey, from Jerusalem by Herodotus's calculation. The Pilgrimage to Jerusalem of Christophorus Radziwiłł agrees: having gone out beyond the Gate of the Fish and covered three large miles, he arrived at the monastery of St. Sabas, which still exists. The Laura of St. Sabas. Setting out from there around midnight, he covered three thousand paces by ^a nocturnal journey and at dawn caught sight of the Dead Sea, whose shore he reached at the second hour of the day. Adrichomius should be consulted; he places it to the south of Herodium, between Herodium and Tekoa. The monastery of St. Theodosius was one and ^a half miles from there toward the west, closer to Jerusalem -- as is required by the vision granted to St. Sabas there, showing the Torrent The monastery of St. Theodosius. that flows from Siloam toward the south, and commanding him to dwell in the cave of the Torrent facing east. This Siloam, or the Pool of Siloam, to the south with respect to Jerusalem, flows into the Kidron, commonly called the Torrent, which, augmented by small streams and springs, flows through the plains of the desert toward the east into the Dead Sea, where it is absorbed. Into this Torrent flow the aforesaid rivers Laura and Suca; and at their confluence, the Susacim of St. Quiriacus was situated, ninety stadia from the Laura of St. Sabas. These are the details of the location of both the Laura of St. Sabas and the monastery of St. Theodosius.

[20] He is visited by the Empress Eudocia. In this most famous Theodosius's teaching, it is said (in the life of St. Sabas) that the blessed Empress Eudocia, the wife of the deceased Theodosius II, received spiritual fruit when, having abjured the Eutychian heresy she had imbibed from the pseudo-monk Theodosius, and having been sent back by Simeon the Stylite to St. Euthymius, she visited St. Theodosius as well. She died in A.D. 460. This was treated in the Notes on the life of St. Simeon the Stylite by Metaphrastes, January 5th, ch. 12, letter ^h, and will be treated more fully in the life of St. Euthymius on January 20th. This monastery of St. Theodosius, It takes precedence over the other monasteries of Palestine. always so named after his death, had illustrious defenders of the orthodox faith, by whom it held preeminence over the other monasteries of Palestine in the presence of Emperors and in Councils. John Moschus frequently praises their virtues in the Spiritual Meadow, especially in chs. 3, 22, 23, 92, and the twelve following chapters, and 109 -- some of which wrongly bear the title of the monastery of St. Theodosius on the Cliff in Cilicia, such as chapters 95 and 99, ^a fact remarkably unnoticed by anyone until now.

Section V. The friendship of Saints Sabas and Theodosius.

[21] The author of the life of St. Theodosius does not even mention the name of St. Sabas. In the life of St. Sabas, Cyril praises the friendship of both at length. "There came to Sabas," he says, The first occasion of their acquaintance. "a certain monk named Anthus, ^a man devoted to virtue, who had himself also lived with the great Theodosius for ^a long time.... This man is called Florus in the Latin life. Then for the first time this Sabas became known to the blessed Theodosius by divine providence, with Anthus having nobly mediated their acquaintance. Then Sabas also withdrew into the wilderness and established ^a Laura in it." That year was A.D. 477.

[22] "The divine Sabas," continues Cyril in the same place, "if he saw among those renouncing the world anyone of the sort whose face was not yet covered with hair, he would send him to Theodosius, Mutual love. who most willingly received those who were sent and studiously cared for them in every way, obliging the one who had sent them. For the divine Sabas and this blessed Theodosius were joined by great mutual love, and each preferred the will of the other to his own; indeed, each considered the will of the other to be his own, since the love of Christ had so united them and persuaded them to think the same things. This was indeed celebrated in everyone's conversation, They were called ^a pair of Apostles: and they were judged and called by the people of Jerusalem another Apostolic pair. The governance of the whole body of monks was entrusted to them by the Archbishop -- by Salustius, I mean, who was destined to be perfected in Christ -- not because they had desired it, They are placed over the other monasteries. but rather because they had been chosen by the monks and had received that governance as ^a reward of their virtue. How they arrived at this administration I shall briefly relate."

[23] When Elpidius and Elias, successors of the great Pasarion, had departed this life, the administration passed in turn to Lazarus, then likewise to Gerontius. When Gerontius died, the care of the Brothers was entrusted to Anastasius. When these men -- Lazarus, I say, and Anastasius -- were in charge of the administration, the affairs of the monks were exceedingly turbulent and tossed about by the greatest waves. Since these men whom we have mentioned, Lazarus and Anastasius, took little or no care of monastic perfection, They are placed by the Patriarch Salustius over the other monks; but were wholly converted in mind and soul to certain worldly concerns and financial gain -- especially since Anastasius had then assumed the empire after Zeno, and schisms spoke with the utmost impudence and license against the Church -- since then the divine Salustius (he was Patriarch of Jerusalem) had determined to free the Brothers from that tempest, he first appointed Marcianus, already mentioned by me, to preside over them and assume their governance. When some time had passed, the divine Salustius was sick and in poor bodily health; all who were in the wilderness came to him, and he, by the common vote of those assembled, appointed Sabas and Theodosius to preside over the monasteries around the holy city -- Theodosius over those living in common, those whom the present narrative shows to you. From that time, therefore, Theodosius presided over those who lived in community, Sabas over the solitaries. while Sabas presided over those who had no contact with anyone and were entirely separated. The death of Salustius is then appended, so that this illness appears to have been fatal. He died in A.D. 513.

[24] When Sabas had been invited to ^a banquet by the Patriarch John of Jerusalem, and Antonius, Bishop of Ascalon, who was the brother of the Archbishop, was also present, Both are entertained at ^a banquet by the Patriarch. they placed Sabas between them and friendly toasted him, and invited and received him to the best of their ability. But neither were the Saint's hands idle; but, as was fitting, with all pretense and dissimulation set aside, he ate what was placed before him. The divine Theodosius was also present, who was very close and dear to him, as I have often said. When he wished to cast ^a beautiful and pleasing remark into the conversation as ^a kind of condiment for the table, he said with great urbanity and wit that the divine Sabas had such an appetite that "not even both of you," he said, "who suffice to feed all Palestine at once, could feed his belly to satisfaction." Such ^a strong and robust body had fallen to the blessed Sabas's generous soul. He was endowed with the greatest modesty and was gentle and easy in his manners. Access to him was easy, and he was pleasant in conversation and most simple in character, yet most steadfast in prudence, maintaining unfeigned and sincere love toward all. He was deeply attached to Theodosius, They visit each other often. so much so that they went to each other daily and conferred with each other about virtue, and both were like luminaries to all who embraced the monastic life. But the one presided over those who practiced the common life; the other -- Sabas, I mean -- had assumed the governance of those who had adopted ^a life separated and quiet, apart from all company. It is said that the blessed Sabas often said wittily to the divine Theodosius that he was the Prefect of children, while Sabas himself was the Prefect of Prefects -- hos ekeinos men paidon, autos de hegoumenon hegoumenos eie -- because, namely, Sabas admitted only adults, while the other also admitted beardless youths and eunuchs, as is said below about these.

[25] They labor together for the faith. No less ^a union of minds shone forth in defending the Catholic faith against the violence of heretics. Thus when the aforesaid John had been intruded into the See of Jerusalem after the expulsion of Elias by Olympius of Caesarea -- because he seemed likely to accept communion with the heretic Severus and to subject the Council of Chalcedon to anathema -- then the blessed Sabas (to whom it soon becomes clear St. Theodosius was joined as an ally), taking with him the sacred army of monks, They recall John III, Patriarch of Jerusalem, from communion with Severus. fell upon the new Patriarch John and testified and warned him not to admit Severus into communion, but rather to defend the Council of Chalcedon and risk his life for it even unto blood. This John indeed did, reverencing the protest of the Fathers and entirely forgetting his agreements with Olympius. Then, variously harassed by ^a military commander sent by Anastasius, he cautiously professed the Catholic faith in the temple of St. Stephen, contrary to the expectation of the commander who was present. Immediately therefore John ascended the pulpit, holding with both hands Sabas and Theodosius, the champions of piety. When he had paused for ^a little, he seemed to hear the multitude gradually murmuring and saying that those who did not hold right beliefs ought to be struck with anathema. When he received this as ^a kind of divine sign and his heart was filled with boldness, he uttered one voice together with the multitude: "If anyone holds the opinions of Eutyches, Nestorius, Severus, and Soterichus, Bishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia, let him be anathema!" Then the commander perceived the stratagem, and fearing the unanimous consent of the people, he thought it sufficient to withdraw in silence, and he departed for Caesarea.

[26] The same events are related in Session 1 of the Seventh Ecumenical Council, or the Second of Nicaea, where St. Theodosius is named first: echon Ioannes meth' heautou Theodosion kai Sabban, tous ton monachon koryphaious kai hegemonas -- "John having with him Theodosius and Sabas, the chiefs and leaders of the monks." But the Latin life of Sabas, The public profession of faith by Theodosius. after the anathemas pronounced by the Patriarch John, adds: "Having said these things, they came down. And again Abbot Theodosius, turning to the people, spoke with ^a loud voice thus: 'Whoever,' he said, 'does not accept the four Councils as he accepts the four Gospels, let him be anathema.' When these things had been accomplished, the military commander, greatly fearing the multitude of monks, fled to Caesarea. The consul, however (Zacharias, nephew of the Emperor), binding himself with many oaths, spoke thus to the venerable Fathers, saying: 'I came here not to consent to Severus, but to merit your fellowship.' Having said this, he offered ^a hundred pounds of gold to the Holy Resurrection, ^a hundred to holy Calvary, and ^a hundred to the Holy Cross. Moreover, he also gave ^a hundred to the venerable Theodosius and another hundred pounds of gold to our holy Father Sabas, to be distributed among the monks who were throughout the region. But the Emperor Anastasius, when he heard what had been done at Jerusalem, devised and took counsel to condemn the Archbishop John and Theodosius and Sabas to exile."

[27] Finally, the friendship of both and the proximity of their monasteries are indicated by various monks transferred from one to the other. Thus ^a certain man named James, expelled by Sabas from the monastery for having castrated himself out of misguided zeal, was received back through the intercession of St. Theodosius; when he was ordered to go down to him and greet him, he piously fell asleep. Sabas also received into his own monastery ^a certain Aphrodisius whom The great interchange between the two monasteries. St. Theodosius had expelled for killing ^a mule with his fist, and granted him permission before death to go down to St. Theodosius to obtain his forgiveness. Furthermore, when St. Sabas learned that two of his monks who lived in the Tower of the monasteries built by the Empress Eudocia had fallen into the Nestorian heresy, he obtained for them ^a place in the convent of St. Theodosius, and appointed as overseer of the Tower John of Byzantium, ^a man excelling in character and learning.

LIFE FROM METAPHRASTES,

by an anonymous contemporary author, collated with ^a Greek manuscript of the Vatican Library.

Theodosius the Coenobiarch in Judaea (S.)

Author: Anonymous.

CHAPTER I.

The birth, education, and pilgrimage of St. Theodosius to St. Simeon Stylites.

[1] Among the seasons, spring is indeed most pleasant; among the stars, the sun is most beautiful; The name Coenobiarch, but among lives, the best of all is the life of the great Theodosius. Of Theodosius, I say, who showed his name to be not merely ^a name, but brought it to the reality of things -- since he was truly seen by men to be theou dosis, that is, "the gift of God," and ^a common exemplar of every life that is possessed by the love of virtue. For this reason it would be more just to call him Coenobiarch not because he presided over ^a coenobium, for this is indeed more properly his title; the other is shared by many others. This title shows the blessedness of his rule, as it truly was; the other has an uncertain end and an outcome not yet manifest. Who, then, he was from the beginning, from what parents he was born, and how he entered upon his spiritual contests -- this must first be pursued; then we must speak about his monastery, which is universally sung by every tongue, and about his other deeds, according to our ability, neither burdening ears with an immoderate discourse nor, on the other hand, doing damage to noble souls by excessive brevity in matters of importance.

[2] A certain village named Magariassus, situated in the region of the Cappadocians, produced the blessed Theodosius. This village was then indeed unknown and obscure to many; His homeland. but now it is known to nearly all because of him. For it was fitting that he should be ^a cause of splendor to his homeland His parents. and his parents, rather than that they should bring distinction and glory to the life of Theodosius. His parents were devout in the true worship of God and pious and pleasing to God in their morals; their very names beautifully signified ^a good life and noble character. His mother, following his example, becomes ^a nun. For his father was called Proaeresius, and Eulogia was she who bore him. She indeed afterward also embraced the monastic life, having found the occasion of this good resolution in the good life of her dearest son; and she had as her spiritual father the one whose mother she had been according to the flesh -- rightly receiving spiritual regeneration in place of carnal generation. And if it is difficult for ^a son to render worthy thanks to parents who are the authors of his existence, why is this man not also superior, who was the cause for his mother that she should be well?

[3] Born therefore from these parents, ^a noble and blessed plant, he is piously and devoutly nourished and grows, From boyhood, to what he devoted himself. simultaneously in bodily and spiritual age, and in every way as was fitting for one who had been born of such parents and was destined to become such ^a man. When he had already reached the age that provides foresight and discernment, he immediately showed the inclinations of his soul: not loving money, not bodily pleasures -- which are indeed the exultations and sprouts of an ignoble and ill-reared youth, like ^a colt that has never been accustomed to the bridle, or land that has never received the hands and labors of the farmer -- but conceiving ^a love for the philosophical life and desiring to see the holy places in which the Creator and God of all endured His saving Passion for the whole world, reverencing these very sufferings of Christ, He resolves to visit the holy places. lest he should esteem them so lightly as to yield to ease and sloth on account of bodily labor and not come to those holy places. Moreover, he wished also to embrace solitude, that excellent helper toward philosophy, and to adopt ^a life entirely solitary and quiet. For he did not desire ^a name that falsifies the truth that lies in realities. What the occasion of this pilgrimage was, the narrative now wishes to pursue.

[4] The illustrious Theodosius was skilled in reading the divine Scriptures, if anyone ever was. For he was gladly heard, He performs the office of Lector. not only because he was excellently trained in this respect, but also because he cast ^a keen desire upon all, both from his moderation of character and from his modesty, than which nothing else more befits the young. Therefore the duty had been entrusted to him of reading the sacred books to the people. Reading these carefully and diligently, when on one occasion he heard God commanding Abraham to go forth from his land and kindred, Gen. 12:1 and on another occasion heard that the abandonment of homeland, house, parents, and brothers, which is done for His sake, is, as the sacred Gospels declare, the cause of eternal life for those who have so acted -- reading these things, and others similar to them, and casting them into the bosom of his mind, as was fitting, he was inflamed in spirit and held by ^a great desire to follow Christ along the narrow and rough way. Matt. 19:29. And as he continually turned these thoughts over in his mind, he poured forth prayers that were the prelude to ^a most beautiful life: "Lead me, O Lord, in Thy way, and I will walk in Thy truth." Then with diligent zeal he set out on the road that leads to Jerusalem, at that time He goes to Jerusalem. when the Emperor Marcian was at the close of his life, and the Council of Chalcedon (which we recognize as the fourth and holy Council) was being convened against Nestorius and other heretics.

[5] When the wholly excellent Theodosius had now come to Antioch, he resolved that he ought not to pass through it without first going to the famous Simeon -- Simeon, I say, the Stylite, that is, the one standing on the column -- He visits Simeon Stylites. and contemplating his countenance, and hearing his words, and from these receiving, as it were, comfort for his journey, and becoming ^a partaker of his prayer and blessing, which would make easy and light both the path of virtue that he had in mind and the road that was before his eyes. But as he was going to him, he immediately received ^a sign, neither trivial nor slight, of Simeon's confidence and familiarity with God: before he even approached the sacred column and uttered ^a word, he heard him from above calling out and naming him by name. The voice spoke thus: "Welcome, O man of God, Theodosius." Simeon predicts his future. And Theodosius, amazed, bowed his knee to him and prostrated his face upon the ground, answering ^a more glorious title with ^a more humble posture. Then he joyfully ascended to him, at his bidding, and embraced him who held him in his arms, greatly esteeming this also -- to touch those venerable limbs and to receive his embrace as ^a kind of divine seal confirming his steps toward virtue. And Simeon most divinely foretold all things to him: what end he would find of this journey, what flock he would afterward lead, and that he would snatch many rational sheep from the wolf that is perceived by the intellect; and other things that shortly afterward each received their fulfillment, which the narrative, proceeding through each period of time, will relate.

a In the Greek manuscript exemplar, Mogariassos; otherwise in the Menaea, Anthologion, and Menologion, cited in the Prolegomena nn. 2, 3, and 15.

b Marcian began to rule in A.D. 450. He died at the end of January, 457.

c It began on October 8 and was concluded after 13 sessions on November 1, A.D. 451.

d So also the Greek manuscript reads Nesorion, improperly. Condemned in it were Eutyches, the Constantinopolitan Archimandrite, who abolished the distinction of natures in Christ, and his supporter Dioscorus, Patriarch of Alexandria. Nestorius, however, was condemned under Theodosius the Younger in A.D. 431 at the Third Ecumenical Council of Ephesus, because he asserted that Christ consisted of ^a twofold person and that the Blessed Mary was not Theotokos.

e Concerning him there is extensive treatment on January 5, where in the life from Metaphrastes, n. 39, these same events are narrated.

CHAPTER II.

Residence in Jerusalem. Withdrawal.

[6] Strengthened even more in spirit by these things, having received the prayers of the admirable Simeon as guides and guardians, He reverently visits the holy city. he pursued his journey more eagerly than before and arrived at the holy city, when the archbishopric of Jerusalem had been committed to Juvenal. He prefers the cenobitic life for ^a time to the solitary. When he had gone over that entire divine place and had reverently adored the holy sites, he considered in his mind how he should begin to practice philosophy, and which of the two modes of life he should choose: whether the one that is entirely solitary and has no association with anyone, or the one that is lived with other pious men who pursue the same goal. However, to be silent in solitude and to live in quiet he did not approve for the present, judging it by no means safe for one who was not yet experienced in wrestling by himself against the spirits of wickedness. "For if among those who serve in worldly warfare," he said, "no one is of such invincible boldness and such notable folly that, being entirely untrained and wholly inexperienced in military affairs, he would rush from the battle line straight into the midst of the enemy -- how could I, whose hands are not trained for battle nor my fingers for war, and who am not girded with power from on high, and when the conflict is far more dangerous and uncertain, against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against the spiritual forces of wickedness -- how could I stand in the battle line? It remains, therefore, that after I have learned from the holy Fathers who have first rightly trained themselves in these things, and have been sufficiently instructed by them for the contest against enemies who are perceived by the intellect, I may then in due time reap the fruits that are gathered from quiet and silence."

[7] Having most wisely considered these things (for among his other gifts, he also possessed perfect understanding), he immediately turned to seeking out those who practice the good with labor, knowing that it is more safely taught and learned by suffering. Accordingly, he entrusted himself to the blessed elder Longinus, who was the most excellent of the Fathers of his time, He commits himself to the discipline of Longinus in the Tower of David. and lived and dwelt with him in every respect, greatly delighted by his character, and therefore wholly adhering to him, and, as I may say with the divine David, his soul was "glued" to him after him. For with whom one delights to associate, such ^a one is also believed to be: and this is well said by the ancients. 1 Sam. 18:1. Now this admirable Longinus had enclosed himself in ^a small chamber of the Tower of the divine David (for this is what long tradition reports) and there labored to produce the sweet honey of virtue.

[8] When pious Theodosius had exercised all his senses in his company, as was fitting, and had labored greatly in discerning what is to be sought and what avoided, He migrates at Icelia's request to the Temple of the Mother of God. he moves to the Old Seat (for so they call that place; it is on the public road that leads toward Bethlehem) -- unwillingly indeed, but yielding to paternal authority, to which he was obedient rather than to himself. What then was the cause of the migration? A certain woman, most pious and honorable, named Icelia, rich in possessions but richer in virtue. She had previously lived with ^a certain man; but afterward she became ^a minister of Christ through her piety. For she is said to have founded the temple that is there, dedicated to the Lady and Mother of God of all. When she had then greatly entreated the elder to place Theodosius in the temple that she herself had founded, he obeyed unwillingly; and he persuaded the still more unwilling Theodosius to accept the transfer. For the one to whom it was pleasant to dwell together, it is natural that separation was also painful: especially since the blessed Theodosius preferred to obey rather than to command, as the narrative will make clear.

[9] When therefore he had been persuaded and transferred, and had inhabited that divine temple, his fame thereafter spreading to all (for virtue is accustomed to make the one who possesses it no less conspicuous than the lamp makes the one who carries it), not enduring to remain there any longer, he passed to this sacred mountain and this cave, from which he made only one departure -- the departure to God, He withdraws to ^a cave. leaving his body there. His removal to the mountain was made piously for three reasons. First, to flee the governance that was about to be imposed on him by the Fathers, or rather by his own surpassing virtue, as if it were some great burden. Second, to make the change of place also ^a change to ^a higher mode of life, judging that solitude secluded from human company produces manifold fruits of virtue. Third, because he was moved not by himself but by God, so that there the phalanx of Christ would be committed to him for leadership, where he was to offer to the common Lord so many thousands of soldiers, or rather spiritual nobles. So then, piously moved in mind, he approaches the summit of the mountain and dwells perpetually in this cave, which even to this day is rich in his sacred relics.

[10] In it the three Kings are said once to have spent the night. A certain tradition, handed down from the Fathers of old, has reached us, which says that those faithful Magi who came to Bethlehem from the East, after they had most devoutly offered gold, frankincense, and myrrh to God who had come from the heavenly watchtower into the West of this world, and had then received ^a response from an Angel not to return by the same road, but rather to go back to their own country by another way -- this tradition says that these Magi lodged in this cave on their return journey; and that having slept here by night, in the morning they entered upon the road that led to their homeland. Such indeed is the report, and perhaps no improbability undermines it. For first, since they had resolved to travel through Jerusalem, it is not very easy for them to have returned home from Bethlehem by another route. Just as even now we see those who pass from Bethlehem, or from the surrounding region, traveling by this way.

[11] Moreover, many things that were indeed done of old but are not recorded in divine Scripture, unwritten tradition alone causes to be held as certain to this present day. Such are the things said about the place of the skull, which have been treated, I say, by the great Basil. For he says in ^a certain oration of his (it is fitting to add them as ^a kind of condiment to the discourse), setting forth for us an unwritten tradition: The tradition concerning the place of Adam's burial. "Adam, our first parent," he says, "is said to have been buried in this place that is now called the Skull, where my Christ too endured the cross and death for us, on account of His kindness that cannot be expressed in words." And these things are indeed so.

a Juvenal was ordained Bishop after the death of Prahylius in A.D. 429. He attended the Ecumenical Councils of Ephesus and Chalcedon. He died in 457.

b A certain Longinus was appointed by St. Euthymius in A.D. 469 to head the lower monastery not far from the Laura of St. Euthymius; concerning whom there is treatment in the lives of Euthymius and St. Sabas. The Greeks in the Menaea of November 17 record the pious death of St. Longinus, which perhaps should be understood of one or the other.

c Adrichomius displays it in his topography and description of the city of Jerusalem. William of Tyre, book 9 of the war of the Holy Land, chapter 3, reports that all the city's fortification was in the citadel and tower of David when it was recaptured by the Christians.

d Concerning this cave and place there is extensive treatment in the Prolegomena, section 4.

e The same events are reported in the Eulogy of John Moschus, cited above in the Prolegomena. "They had learned," says our Barradius, volume 1 in the commentary on the Gospel Concordance, "to prefer ^a cave to palaces, since they had beheld Christ born in ^a cave."

f Basil on Isaiah chapter 5: "A certain tradition has prevailed in the Church, preserving ^a memory not transmitted in writing, which is also as follows: that Judaea indeed first had ^a human inhabitant, namely Adam, who, once he had fallen from the delights of paradise, was placed in this land to mitigate the loss of the good things of which he had been stripped. First, therefore, it also received the first dead man, Whence the Place of Calvary is so called. who there fully carried out the sentence of condemnation to which he had been consigned. And so the spectacle was strange and novel to the people of that age -- the bone of the head, bare of its decaying flesh. And they, burying the skull, gave the name Kranion to that place, that is, Calvary. By probable reasoning Noah could not have been ignorant of the sepulchre of this first prince and progenitor of all mortals; since the report concerning this matter was spread throughout the world from the flood onwards by him, and it spread abroad; and therefore the Lord, having broken the origin of human death, suffered in the place that is called Kranion, that is, Calvary, so that where corruption, or the death of men, had its beginning, there the life of the kingdom might take its own start." So says Basil. The same opinion is held by Tertullian, Cyprian, Origen, Epiphanius, Athanasius, Chrysostom, Ambrose, Augustine, and others, whom our Salianus cites in volume 1 of the Annals of the Old Testament Church, year of the world 930, n. 7 and following.

CHAPTER III.

Practice of virtues in the cave.

[12] Now the wise Theodosius, when he had been in this place and always desired higher things, having set before himself the divine Apostle as his model, became an imitator of him, loving all the sacred commandments equally, but especially captivated by the love of divine charity. His love for God. For his soul was so wounded by its sweet arrow and so bound by its indissoluble chains, that the lofty and divine precept, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind," was fulfilled by him in deed -- which indeed could not otherwise be accomplished unless all the natural faculties of the soul strive toward nothing else that is present except the sole desire for the Creator. Matt. 22:37. These intelligent operations of the soul, pious Theodosius, like ^a skilled musician, moved harmoniously and rhythmically toward what was fitting, and when it was fitting, and as much as was fitting, and as was proper, joining each one together, and produced the most rhythmical and most pleasing temperament of his life; setting before himself one single aim: that all things might be done by him from God, and that nothing should disagree or be discordant with Him.

[13] For who was seen to be of so lofty and courageous ^a spirit in dangers undertaken for God as he, who was neither conquered by the threats of the powerful nor lured and led astray by flatteries, when what was commanded was perhaps concerning God but not from God? But let the discourse be deferred on that matter. Who so knew how to discern the thoughts of the heart, and to examine them accurately, and to know the arts of the evil one, stealing in from the right side, as he did? Various exercises of the virtues. Who so governed the spirit, crushed the soul, and cast down every intelligence and height that exalts itself against the knowledge of God? And, to speak briefly, how could anyone imitate his deeds, which one cannot even worthily praise? The constancy of his fasting, the perseverance of his watching, the assiduity of his prayer, the beautiful order of his psalmody, the innate profusion of his eyes in tears -- so that there was sooner hope of stopping the perennial streams of rivers than the fountains of his tears; his standing through entire nights; the hidden thongs with which, because he would drift off and sink into sleep, he was propped up with pain in his groin; humility of spirit, gentleness, ^a mind for the most part thoughtful and attentive, ^a keen intellect that most easily took wing straight to the heavens? These things others too may desire; but they are altogether difficult to imitate.

[14] Who so commanded the belly, or had it more obedient to the laws of abstinence? He used it no otherwise than as ^a handmaid, taking food when he himself commanded; Abstinence and austerity of diet. taking, I say, food not as much as it itself would wish, but as much as sufficed to maintain the bond of natural union. His nourishment was the fruit of the palm, or ^a few carob pods, or some legume soaked in water, or such wild herbs as were fit for eating. But if there was also ^a scarcity of even those things mentioned, because of the extreme poverty of the desert, date stones soaked in water were for him ^a sumptuous and splendid sustenance on account of necessity, and ^a skillful relief of hunger. For thirty continuous years he tasted no bread at all. But even though he treated himself so sparingly and strictly in what pertained to the use of the body, he was not so disposed in what pertained to the soul; rather, he nourished it abundantly and copiously night and day, meditating daily in the law of the Lord and being daily watered by the sacred oracles. Whence it came about that he appeared "like ^a tree planted by the streams of waters," and gave fruit in its season, most pleasant and most copious. And the incitement of the body to lusts in youth he thus beautifully caused to cease. Yet he did not resolve to cast off this law of abstinence together with the flower of youth, nor did he repel it as henceforth useless and unnecessary; but he preserved it into the deepest old age, increasing and not relaxing it -- and, as one would not blush to send away ^a companion of his voyage who had sailed with him in winter and storm and had shared many labors and hardships, when he was now in port.

a Greek: technas eidenai tou ponerou dia ton dexion kleptousas. Lipomanus: "to know the arts of the evil one, which steal through the right hand."

CHAPTER IV.

The arrival of disciples. The pious death of Basil.

[15] Disciples gather to him. He therefore embraced labors as others embrace pleasures; but relaxations and delights he repelled as enemies, since long custom had impressed such ^a habit upon him. By these means he already appeared from afar, shining most splendidly and beautifully with rays, like ^a most pleasant star. For it is difficult to hide ^a city set upon ^a hill. Therefore he did not remain hidden, even though he perpetually fled that very thing. Since he did not remain hidden, it was entirely natural that he should draw to himself souls studious of the good and honorable, no less than ^a magnet draws iron, or rather like good bees drawn to the pleasant honey of virtue. Accordingly, there now came to him certain of those who were lovers of virtue, and who preferred to dwell with him in the desert rather than with emperors in splendid cities. Pressing hard, they barely, but nonetheless, persuaded him not to consider his own interests alone, but also those of his neighbors; and they received him as ^a trainer in the life that comes from God. And at that time the chorus around him numbered six or seven.

[16] He orders them to build ^a sepulchre for themselves. Since that great man knew that for those who have chosen to live from God, nothing is so conducive to acquiring virtue and preserving it once acquired as the remembrance of death, which is also truly called and believed to be philosophy -- what does he do? He now orders these disciples of his to build ^a sepulchre: at once so that there might be ^a memorial of the end, as it is also called, and that he might thus more greatly rouse them to the contest and more diligently spur them to virtue; and at the same time to receive the dead; indeed, foreseeing and foretelling something of the future -- for he had already attained these charisms and degrees, seeing light in the light of grace. What it was that he foresaw, the narrative now proceeds to declare. The sepulchre was prepared, and he himself stood above it, while his disciples stood around him. But he, gazing with the keen eye of his mind at what was to come, spoke thus wittily, looking at them: "The sepulchre is prepared; but which of you is to celebrate its dedication?" And he spoke thus, mixing serious matters with witty and urbane speech; for he himself also, among other things, knew the right time, and was accustomed to relieve austerity and sadness with measured grace.

[17] A certain Basil, ^a Priest by rank, but who on account of his desire for good things clearly preserved the expressed paternal characteristics, and who resembled his spiritual father in the likeness of virtue no less than those born of carnal parents resemble them, and who besides knew that the question had not been proposed idly by the master, seizing the word first, was of prompt and eager spirit to choose death, as ^a thing not to be rejected but highly useful and profitable. Straightway, therefore, bending his knees and casting himself upon the ground, [While Basil is alive, the third-day, ninth-day, and fortieth-day rites are performed for him as for the dead.] "Bless me," he said, "Father. And I," he said, "will be the first to celebrate the dedication of this sepulchre." So he asked, and the other gave. And the sepulchre itself received him. The Father then commands that all things be done for him that the law prescribes for the dead: the third-day rites, I say, and the ninth-day rites, and consequently also the fortieth-day rites. When the fortieth day was now drawing to ^a close (O how shall the narrative explain what is indeed most true, but most difficult to believe, because it exceeds all measure!), Basil, neither seized by fever, nor vexed by headache, nor feeling any pain in any part of his body, departed to the Lord as if lulled by ^a gentle and pleasant sleep: He dies without pain. the reward of virtue and of readiness to depart thither. This clearly signified that he took no pleasure in the things of this world, since he had chosen to be the first to stand before God and the first to be crowned -- so much so that in this matter he surpassed the praise of his master. Unless perhaps what has been said seems too curious; for it is ^a great thing to behold the placid and kindly face of God.

[18] After death, he sings psalms with the living for forty days. When these things had been accomplished, miracle followed miracle. For during the next forty days, in the evening canticles among the sacred chorus of disciples, this divine Basil too was seen standing and singing together with them, and was heard by the great Theodosius. And of the others, no one else either heard his voice or perceived his form. Only ^a certain Aetius (who himself also followed in his master's footsteps and wished to be ^a disciple of Theodosius not merely because he knew and narrated his deeds, but also imitated him) could not see him, but heard his voice. He asked the master whether he too heard the voice of the dead man. The master said that he both saw and heard him, and would show him to Aetius when he appeared. And night came on, and the assembly was being held, and the man of God again clearly saw Basil standing and singing with those who stood and sang; Theodosius sees him and shows him to Aetius. and pointing him out to Aetius with his finger, he added prayers also: "Open, O Lord," he said, "this man's eyes too, and let him see this great mystery of Thy works." And when Aetius had immediately seen and recognized him, and had also run up, wishing in his desire to embrace him, Basil not only could not be grasped, but also vanished, having said, as others heard: "Farewell, O Fathers and Brothers, farewell. But henceforth you will no longer see me." Wherefore what Christ said in the Gospels, "He who believes in Me, even though he has died, will live," the event showed to be most true and most worthy of belief. John 11:25.

CHAPTER V.

Provisions divinely sent to him.

[19] This was the first testimony of Theodosius's virtue. The second my narrative now wishes to pursue, which is in no way inferior to the first. It was ^a feast day, and the first and chief of all feasts -- At Easter bread for the sacrifice and other provisions are lacking. the Pasch itself, I say, of my Christ, or rather my own resurrection and renewal. The evening of the sacred night was at hand; but those who came to him had nothing of what is necessary for food -- no bread, no oil, no other edible thing. And the chorus of disciples bore it with difficulty, as was natural, for they were now twelve in number; but they were grieved not only for themselves, but because, since bread was no longer at hand to offer for the sacrifice, their Pasch was to be without the sacrifice, and the feast day was to be celebrated without the body of Christ. Standing around, therefore, they murmured against the master, as if having taken from the situation ^a cause reasonable in itself. But he, having said only: "The sacred table must be prepared; and let no one be troubled about the rest. For He who once fed so many thousands of Israel in the desert, and afterward also fed no small multitude to satisfaction, He Himself also has care for us, and is neither weaker in power nor feebler in providence." This he said; but how his words were immediately followed by their effect, and did not deceive the disciples' hope, the narrative will shortly tell.

[20] For just as of old the ram in the thicket from Sabec was at hand, prepared for Abraham's holocaust, so also for this blessed man, as the sun was now leaving the earth, there came ^a man leading ^a pair of mules, Provisions are unexpectedly brought to St. Theodosius. by which was carried ^a load of various provisions suitable for men who practice asceticism; and even the bread of the sacred table, which is both seen and perceived by the intellect, was not absent, but was there together with the other things. On account of which the disciples of Theodosius, worshippers of Christ, rejoiced even more. And this gift was indeed ^a gift of his prayers, which had not rained from heaven, as previously the manna, but had sprung from the earth at celestial commands, and nourished not only in ^a sensible but also in ^a spiritual manner -- in what pertains, at least, to the bread that was offered for the consecrations. So then, having joyfully satiated themselves simultaneously with earthly goods and heavenly ones, those who were with him continued until holy Pentecost, gradually learning what kind of teacher was theirs. And this was indeed so.

[21] What follows, I say, is the brother of the preceding, and the most genuine offspring of like faith and hope. A certain man of great wealth had determined to pursue renown through good works, distributing his possessions in blessings, He refuses to disclose his community's poverty to ^a wealthy benefactor. and making the substance of his money the salvation of his soul. He appeared as ^a most pleasant right hand to all others, and especially to those who lived by Christ and rightly thought to remove themselves from the world and draw near to God, as the divine Scripture says; or again, to speak more fully with Scripture, his garden was seen to be not closed and his fountain not sealed. But to the disciples of Theodosius alone, through forgetfulness or ignorance, he did not share his beneficence -- or perhaps God was testing or glorifying the Saint in these things. Song of Songs 4:12. And the disciples, approaching, pestered him to make both himself and them known to the distributor, and pressed hard with great zeal; for they had nothing left to sustain them, having but ^a few carob pods, and when these sometimes gave out, they cooked the remaining date stones, as has already been said, and used them to relieve their hunger. So they compelled the man who had always striven to remain hidden to make himself known, on account of their pusillanimous and abject spirit; and they pressed him, who was accustomed to turn his eyes to God, to shamefully stretch out his hands to men, abandoning the hand that is open and fills every living thing with blessing -- as though he had judged it to be too narrow, or too sparing and mean, at the present time. And they were sad. He consoles his own. But he, gently admonishing them, would say: "Who among those who have trusted in God has ever been utterly forsaken? But who that endured Him to the end did not receive consolation? He who satisfies every thirsting soul. Let the divine Jeremiah say this with us: And He fills every hungry soul. He who prepares food for the ravens and the young of the ravens" -- as I introduce Job and the divine David speaking together. Jer. 31:25; Job 38:41; Ps. 147:9. "Let us know how great is the difference between human effort and divine providence, which reaches to the uttermost; and we shall know how even those things that we have willingly relinquished for Christ's sake, we enjoy again abundantly and copiously through divine providence."

[22] He said these things, and shortly afterward someone appeared leading ^a laden animal. He was going not to the monastery of the great Theodosius; rather, his intention was to pass it by and deposit his load at some other place. But when he was already near the monastery, A man is divinely admonished to supply them with provisions. the beast stopped against the man's will; and although he struck it many blows with ^a whip, it was immovable, no differently than if it were ^a stone. When the man rightly judged that this was not happening without God's will, he immediately reversed the order: he used the animal as ^a guide, and loosening the reins, he permitted it to go wherever its impulse carried it. When the man had done so, the animal went straight, nowhere else, but just as if someone were pulling the bridle and directing it while invisible, directly to the monastery. When the man had entered and learned of the extreme poverty pressing them, and had marveled at the secret design of God's providence -- how, namely, He had caused the trouble of their poverty to be for them an occasion of crowns, and how He Himself should relieve that trouble, and how the animal had for this reason not obeyed, since divine providence was calling the man to feed souls that ministered to God but suffered from the weakness of the ministering body -- when he had learned these things, he provided double the alms that the first distributor had given. From that time, therefore, his disciples ceased to trouble him and to be pusillanimous and of abject spirit, and instead strove to imitate him, and counted him blessed for his firm hope and faith in God. But these things thus far.

a In the Hebrew it reads, Gen. 22:13, "a ram caught by its horns in Sabech"; which the Septuagint and Theodotion retained as ^a proper noun: krios eis katechomenos en phyto sabek. Now Sabech means in Hebrew "entanglement," such as is seen in dense thickets, from the root sabach, "to be entwined, entangled," so that the Vulgate edition renders it most excellently: "He saw ^a ram among the thickets, caught by its horns."

CHAPTER VI.

The monastery is built.

[23] The number of disciples increases. Since disciples came to him daily (for the fountains of his graces summoned good souls studious of virtue -- rational deer, one might say, loving spiritual waters), many others also came, and not ^a few of those who had great authority and wealth. And already the number of disciples was great, but the cave was small and clearly too small to hold them. They themselves, approaching, urged him to erect ^a monastery and make ^a larger fold for the spiritual sheep, saying that he need not be concerned about the costs of building. "For both the means sufficient for it," they said, "are in our hands, and in our hands is ^a spirit more generous still." Since he was thus compelled to preside over ^a larger flock, this truly good shepherd -- it cannot be said with how many cares he was tossed and by how many conflicting thoughts he was distracted. For when he looked to the good of quiet and silence and to ^a pure and tranquil mind, he grieved to be torn from this dear quiet as from ^a mother. But when he considered that care must be taken of those who were coming, and that one must not live for oneself alone but much more also for one's neighbors, and that the Lord Himself had been set before us from the beginning as an example of this, who both gathered disciples to Himself and was seen as the shepherd of rational sheep and laid down His life for them --

[24] He seeks and follows the divine will in his uncertainties. When, therefore, he considered these things at leisure, and his mind was drawn in the opposite direction, and he did not know to which he should purely adhere -- for he was not ignorant of the fruits of quiet and silence, but again he knew what fruits come from the care taken of the Brothers, and therefore he adhered to both and was fully in neither, and withdrew from both and again came together with both -- what then does he do? He entrusts the whole matter to God, who alone can blend what cannot be blended; and he trusts that with His help the good of quiet and silence might be preserved and yet the reward of governance not be forfeited. For not in the body's being solitary, but in the heart's being well-ordered and tranquil, does the monastic life rightly consist, as was defined by the divine David. Certainly, even if this were so, he nevertheless commits the judgment to God and entreats Him: if the endeavor were altogether pleasing to Him (for what the divine Simeon had once predicted about him turned over in his mind), if then it pleased God entirely, that He would declare it by this sign and openly indicate the place where he was to lay the foundations of the monastery.

[25] He prays that the place for building the monastery be divinely shown. When, therefore, he had taken ^a censer in his hands, filled it with coals, and then placed incense upon them without fire, he traversed the desert, chanting prayers with his lips. The prayers ran thus: "O God, who by many and great miracles once confirmed Israel; who persuaded Thy servant Moses by many and various prodigies to undertake the burden of governing them, and changed ^a rod into ^a serpent, and ^a healthy hand into ^a leprous one, and then restored its former color; who change water into blood, and then easily restore it again to water; who display to Gideon the fleece as ^a sign of victory, and what happened around the fleece; who fashion and sustain all things; who described to Hezekiah the addition of life by the reversal of the shadow's degrees; who also first heard the prayers of Elijah and sent down fire from heaven, and on account of the conversion to Thee of those who had acted impiously, consumed the wood and the holocausts and the water together with the very stones -- Thou Thyself, even now, O Lord, Thou also hear me Thy servant, and show where it pleases Thee that I should build ^a temple indeed of Thy power, and ^a dwelling place for Thy servants and my disciples. Thou wilt show this assuredly, wherever Thou commandest these coals to be kindled, to Thy glory indeed, and for the recognition of many, and for the confirmation of the truth." Chanting these and similar words, he went about the places that he knew to be more suitable than others.

[26] When he had traversed much land of the desert as far as the place called Gutilla and the shores of Lake Asphaltites, the coals being thus dead and not at all ignited, The coals ignite by themselves. and when he saw that they were not being kindled and that the endeavor was not succeeding according to his wishes, he resolved to return. When he had done this and had moved ^a little distance from the cave (O who could worthily praise Thy power, immortal King!), smoke suddenly rose from the coals, well-scented smoke, as fire had in an ineffable manner coursed through the coals and secretly kindled them. When the fire had therefore indicated the place better than any tongue could, the foundations were laid, and ^a temple was built, and ^a monastery was erected -- He builds ^a most spacious monastery. or, to speak more accurately, ^a dwelling place of virtues, or ^a tabernacle on earth that is truly above the earth and heavenly; which indeed is greatest in size, as it gradually grew through the additions that were made, and abounds in all good things -- not only those of the spirit and virtue, but also those that serve the use of the body. For they too needed these things, being men -- not luxurious and superfluous things, but those whose use is necessary and unavoidable. For just as in ^a distinguished city and populous town, so also here one may see workshops of every kind of craft, which supply the common brotherhood with all things without labor and free them from external cares that would tear them away.

a Greek manuscript: Koutila.

b Lake Asphaltites, that is, of bitumen, is commonly called the Dead Sea, after the cities of Sodom, Gomorrah, and others were destroyed there.

c It is called Cathisma in the life of St. Sabas. See the Prolegomena.

CHAPTER VII.

Kindness to the poor, the sick, and guests, divinely rewarded.

[27] Now the variety and diversity of the living quarters -- Various lodgings for guests. what eye does it not move to contemplation? And what tongue does it not move to praise? For what soul, or what body among those who lodge there, does it not care for? This dwelling is for monks, that one for those who lead ^a mixed life; another for the poor, another for those who are traveling from elsewhere. And, to speak summarily, for each of those who come, ^a place where they may be received and ^a manner of care, different for each, has been assigned. One thing is equally extended to all, namely, the utmost cheerfulness and kindness of hospitality. Moreover, Theodosius took great care of the poor, Theodosius's kindness to the poor. whose destitution he surpassed by his provision, yet in turn found his provision outstripped by his will; just as his will was always surpassed by the generosity and munificence of spirit, as will shortly be shown. And this is altogether consonant with the facts and very fitting. For if he himself, being ^a man, strove to surpass the desires of the needy by the greatness of his will, how was human will not in turn to be surpassed by divine riches and kindness?

[28] Although he was thus merciful to all who were pressed by poverty, his mercy was even more increased toward those in whom the evil was again more grievous, and poverty was accompanied moreover by disease or by an excruciating mutilation of limbs -- of the sacred limbs, which is most grievous of all. For this reason he was indeed the eye of the blind, toward the sick. the foot of the lame, the garment of the naked, the covering of those who lacked proper covering, the physician of the sick, their provider, attendant, and servant -- made all things to all through his surpassing kindness: washing blood, cleaning wounds, bringing his lips to the lips of those whose flesh was mutilated, and thus wisely consoling them and persuading them to bear their calamity with moderation, knowing that the wise not only do not shrink from them, but rather count them blessed and embrace them. Nor did he conduct himself proudly and inhumanely, as do many who, when they ought by showing compassion to their brothers to gain for themselves the kindness and mercy of God, they (O the inhumanity!) are so exalted and haughty of spirit, or (to speak more truly) so self-loving and so pusillanimous and abject of spirit, that they not only do not admit them, but cannot even bring themselves to look at them -- as if they refused to remember or even to know that they too have flesh subject to such afflictions. But not so this blessed man; rather, he was, as we have said, of great and generous spirit. And many eyes are witnesses of this; Others imitate him. especially those who performed this ministry together with him, who, though at first they shrank from this notable kindness and compassion just as others did, were afterward persuaded by his exemplary moderation to think rightly, and to act according to human weakness and humility.

[29] Wherefore if anyone were to call him ^a common harbor, No one is turned away. and ^a common medical workshop, ^a common house, ^a common storehouse, he would speak rightly and in accordance with the truth -- for the sick, the hungry, the cold, and the traveling. For he took care of all of them, as was fitting. But anyone who was despised or scorned because he was of low and humble condition, if you had searched, you would have found no one there; rather, for this very reason -- that he was, I say, of low and least condition -- he received greater care, since Christ too is among the least, and openly attributes to Himself what belongs to them. Therefore no account was taken there of those to be expelled. No one was despised, and no one was deemed unworthy of compassion -- ^a thing that is not altogether easy for some parents to observe even toward their children. But to some even garments were given, of which they had need; to all alike food was given. And those who ministered to these things remembered More than ^a hundred tables prepared in one day. that on one day they had prepared more than ^a hundred tables. And the human fountain of mercy was of this kind, and sprang forth so abundantly. But what of God's fountain? Is it not manifest that it surpassed by many and indeed infinite degrees? The narrative will now declare by what proofs, and will fulfill what it has promised.

[30] God was once chastising the land; He was chastising it with famine. The famine was no brief one, nor did it dominate some while sparing others; rather, the scourge had invaded all equally. While men were thus afflicted, to pay the penalties for what they had wickedly done (for that this is the fruit of evil pursuits, the divine Micah declares), and the feast day of Palms was at hand, Micah 6:13. on which ^a multitude of the poor and country folk, having taken the occasion of the feast, had gathered at that place -- already doing this as their custom, but then more so, driven by hunger -- those who were serving to prepare the meal, daunted by so great ^a multitude, were trying to distribute the food by certain measures and scales, so that by this precise and frugal reckoning and parsimony the food might suffice for more people. The weight came to about ^a pound, as one might say using the Roman tongue. But the great Theodosius, approaching, when he had perceived by sight what was happening, and that the great multitude was pressing upon the doors, and had learned to feel and say the same as Job: Job 31:17-18 "The stranger did not lodge outside, and my door was open to every traveler" -- he ordered the gates to be opened and permitted In ^a time of famine, he admits all the poor. all who wished to enter; and to set before them the customary tables -- people whom it was difficult even to count, let alone satisfy with food. Therefore all who served him, when they looked only at the multitude, did not believe it possible -- far from doing anything, since the command exceeded all measure. But after they looked to the virtue and grace of him who gave the command, they ceased from human considerations and looked higher, and immediately opened the gates and gladly admitted those who came; and then they also set about preparing the tables and cheerfully set out what they had. What then does God, the worker of wonders? Again He too made ^a small supply sufficient to feed ^a great multitude, The provisions are divinely multiplied. just as He had previously fed five thousand with five loaves. And so their bellies were filled, and the bread bins were shown to be full of loaves; and they had thought that everything would run out, but the bins were full and held more than they had provided, and through prayer they had produced, as it were, the greatest fruit to fill the bellies of the poor. Thus God rewarded him according to his purpose, and for his generosity to the poor, not only raining abundantly from above on account of his munificent will, but also causing that man to be admired and celebrated, because His promise is by no means false. For He promised to glorify those who know how to glorify Him through their works. 1 Sam. 2:30.

[31] After this, let another thing also be told, which contains an equal munificence of will The feast of the Blessed Mary is most crowded. and power to work ^a miracle. Again it was ^a feast day -- the feast of the Virgin Mother of God -- on which, because it was very distinguished and solemn, so great ^a multitude had gathered (for it was fitting that there should be many to celebrate the feast, and that the right hand of him who was conducting the celebration, or rather his purpose, should also fittingly have many who were to be fed) that those to whom this had been entrusted could not even make room enough for those who approached to recline, far from having enough to feed them, unless one loaf had to be set on each table. Again the provisions are divinely increased. But the Lord who had previously filled the bread bins (generous and copious right hand, which is opened and nourishes whatever has been created by it) then too filled the tables, or rather the bellies -- so much so that when that innumerable assembly of people had been satisfied to the full, there were so many baskets of leftovers that even those who had been at table carried much home, and for those who served, sumptuous tables were afterward set from the remains.

[32] These things seem difficult not only to imitate but even to praise and to set forth rightly in speech. For who, still seeing Egyptians flocking to the monastery of the great Theodosius, would not have supposed that even the wells would fail so great ^a multitude for drinking alone? But they enjoyed the provisions set before them to such satiety that what remained sufficed also for those who came after them, This happens repeatedly. for ^a second banquet. Who then, seeing what happens to this present day in the desert, will not immediately hold it as ^a trustworthy testimony that He who previously rained the marvelous food upon the Hebrews through Moses in the desert, He Himself now also through Theodosius (for he is believed to live in Christ) works this great and divine thing, and copiously supplies nourishment to so many men? For this reason also you see many hastening to this place, believing this to be truly that very spot on account of which the Savior both previously blessed the five loaves and fed so many thousands of men to satisfaction. But these things are thus. We must return to what follows.

CHAPTER VIII.

Various hospitals built. Demoniacs liberated.

[33] Since indeed the chief sign of charity toward one's neighbor is the care taken of the sick -- which also especially knows how to purify the passible faculty of our soul -- since it is not sufficient for perfection to feed ^a hungry brother, and give drink to the thirsty, and bring in and clothe the one who is ^a stranger and naked; but one must moreover have compassion on him with ^a certain shared feeling, He builds hospitals. so that the good be not merely done but done well, from the soul's affection -- that not with the hand alone, but also with the soul, one may show mercy. What he was like in this matter, the narrative now wishes to declare. 1. For monks. Having built three houses, one for those who on account of Christ were separated from the world and wholly crucified to it, he assigned it for the care of the body in times of infirmity. 2. For the more honorable laypersons. Then he permitted two for those who lived and moved in the world; and of these, one for those who were more distinguished and honorable, 3. For the humbler. and the other for those who were of lower rank and poorer, and who needed another's help. Moreover, for his own monks whose bodily strength had been broken by old age and the labors of long ascetic practice 4. For the recreation of elderly monks. (for it was fitting that not even this should escape Theodosius's solicitude), having built ^a suitable gerontocomion -- ^a home for the aged -- in ^a separate place, he assigned it to them for the relief of their long-endured affliction, 5. From the goods of ^a pious woman. as ^a well-suited inn for good travelers wearied by ^a long and rough road. Moreover, yet another hospital was built by him, dedicated to the works of compassion by ^a truly merciful and clement soul; which was also the gift of ^a woman truly honorable and pious in character, who, admiring his goodness, bestowed upon him her house and herself together with her children, renouncing the world and entrusting herself entirely to God, and wishing that her children should live under him.

[34] Moreover, what is ^a greater sign of clemency and kindness: Monks who claim credit for their pious works are handed over to Satan. all those who had chosen to dwell in mountains and caves for Christ's sake, but not from Christ -- following their exercise with rash and unstable fervor, forgetful both of human weakness and of Christ's words that without Him we can do nothing -- John 15:5 puffed up by empty pride and vain arrogance, and wretchedly claiming credit for the good things they had done (O my evils! O great insolence, or rather madness! For what good has human nature done, O Savior, stripped of Thy help? Isa. 37:27, according to the LXX. Thou teachest me through the tongue of the Prophet, saying: "I loosened my hands, and they dried up, and they became like dry grass upon the rooftops, like the green herb." What indeed does He signify through these words? That having lost the flower of virtue, which those who have Thy hand bringing help have embraced, they were then dried up by the lack of Thy richness and wretchedly put on the disgrace of deformity.) 1 Cor. 5:5. Those, therefore, who had thus foolishly thought and had for that reason been handed over to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, as Paul says, that the spirit might be saved -- or who were otherwise mentally afflicted and in ^a bad state and had paid penalties for their sin, so that they might learn, when once restored to reason while still in honor, to understand and recognize the Creator and Helper, and not be ungrateful to Him who had given them grace -- Theodosius receives them kindly. they found him most kind and paternal in his conduct toward them. For he was as distressed for them as for his own children, and otherwise kindly disposed toward them. Having established ^a quiet and tranquil place for them, he permitted them to live there, so that it was for him, as it were, another monastery, both on account of the multitude of those gathered and on account of the order of ministry, and on account of the condition of those who ministered, and on account of the expense of the supplies provided.

[35] More than for others, therefore, the man of God, as we have said, was overcome by compassion for these very persons, and he applied great care and diligence in restoring them, and consoled them with words suited to persuading them to endurance. "By no means, O sons," he said, "by no means let yourselves be dissolved He exhorts them to patience. and enervated by this temporal affliction. Nor should this seem desirable to you, to be altogether uncorrected by God. For in labors and scourges He chastises Jerusalem." Jer. 6:8, according to the LXX. Thus God says through Jeremiah: "My soul shall never fail from thee." For He chastises, but benignly; and He chastises every son whom He receives. I can learn from divine Scripture that His discipline and chastisement is not of wrath but of love, introduced for the correction of sins on account of His benignity. Heb. 12:6. It is good, therefore, O brethren, and very good, that when we have been spiritually chastised here, we should not experience the Lord's stripes hereafter; and that when we have been afflicted here for ^a time, we should escape the torments that have no end. For to suffer nothing here is far more grievous than to suffer; and to depart this life without temptations -- as one whose matter of sins has not been purged by many afflictions -- that is an open sign of terrible afflictions, and ^a manifest mark of illegitimate rather than true-born sons. Although neither should this at all disturb the mind of those who are wise, Why the devil is permitted to possess men. if ^a demon gains mastery over God's creature. For power is given to them by Him who created them, as to certain punishers (alas!) for the chastisement of sons who have gone astray. But it is given only so far as He knows to be sufficient for chastisement, not so far as they themselves wish. For they would scarcely spare human beings, who did not even spare brute beasts, as the holy Gospels teach. Let us therefore be seen through this discipline to receive understanding of the things in which we have sinned, and not to need other more grievous plagues because we remain uncorrected after the plague. Matt. 8:32. Let us be proved through affliction. What has been inflicted against our will, let it become also ^a thing of our own will, in that we bear moderately what has befallen us; and let us give thanks to Him who has imposed discipline by the laws of benignity. He Himself has struck, and He Himself will heal us. And this I have from the Prophets: 'He will strike and bind up, and He will not delay in healing.' Hos. 6:2.

[36] Saying these things, the admirable Theodosius provided consolation for all, Theodosius liberates some. and to not ^a few even liberation from disease; admonishing some to bear that calamity with ^a strong and great spirit, and persuading them that it was more profitable to endure it than to be freed from it. For this reason Theodosius applied the greatest zeal, not to free those who were suffering from what was troublesome to them, but rather to persuade them to bear it with ^a strong and great spirit.

CHAPTER IX.

Various temples constructed. The exercise of the monks.

[37] But how shall we entertain the hearers with the feasts of his other good deeds? For why, as though there were ^a lack of things nobly done by him, shall we contrive how we may linger in our discourse? For who, when he has heard the hymnodies that take place here, is not soothed in his ears, gladdened in his spirit, and leaps vehemently in his heart, and with ^a ready and eager spirit moves his lips to praise Him who made it so, that in diverse tongues indeed, He builds four churches in his monastery. but with one mind and purpose, they sing piously and devoutly? For as in ^a lyre, the diversity of voices is blended in admirable measure by the alternating striking; so here too, in diverse tongues, ^a certain varied and most harmonious hymn is sung. Here also the wise man, like Bezaleel of old, the divine architect of the tabernacle, most wisely and beautifully dispenses and administers in this holy monastery, and builds four edifices within it. Of these, one he assigned to those who use the Greek tongue, in which both he himself and the chorus of the other Fathers sang their hymn. In the second, the race of the Bessi poured forth prayers to the common Lord in their own tongue. The third fell to the lot of the nation of the Armenians, in which they too sent forth hymns to God in their native language. The last and fourth was set apart for those who were vexed by ^a demon; who, though they were otherwise frenzied and deranged, as we mentioned before, when they had come to themselves and were of composed mind, together with those who ministered to them, they sent forth prayers to the Most High in that church.

[38] Thus the rule of hymnody was performed by them, which (as has been said) was offered seven times ^a day to the God of all. But this indeed at other times. In one of them all receive communion together. For when it was necessary to partake of the venerable Sacraments, there was ^a law beautifully established among them that up to the divinely inspired Gospels, each person in his own church and language should hear the divine word; but afterwards all should be gathered together in one, except the demoniacs -- namely, in the great church of the Greeks. Which indeed they do to this present day, and there they are partakers of the sanctified elements.

[39] And what need is there to recount everything about that sacred shepherd and his flock -- and whether one should admire more their virtue or their number? For those whom he spiritually brought forth throughout his whole life, paternally nourished, and then also sent on to God when they had beautifully finished their lives, were six hundred and ninety-three in number. But those whom the Superior who succeeded him Many of his disciples placed over monasteries and churches. in the monastery numbered more than four hundred, preserving the manifest character of their father's virtue -- sons loving their father, and sons who were remarkably loved by their father. The cause of the love that existed in both was not nature, which is ^a thing without praise and reward, but good will and ^a good disposition of soul, loving what is good and honorable, and therefore altogether deserving of praise. And I could say with great pleasure how many pastors, how many bishops his training produced, and how many of his sheep became shepherds of others, and presided over sacred monasteries -- not themselves loving power, but rather judged worthy to govern, and worthy to be entrusted with the supervision of souls; and how many lived in solitude, out of desire for quiet and silence and longing for greater contests -- of whom for some their exercise was prolonged up to eighty years, and the multitude of years gathered for them ^a multitude of spiritual riches. Through all these things Theodosius was known and celebrated, and ^a golden lineage was preserved for him -- one that excels, I say, in honor; through these his fruits and sheaves were filled, and his reward was increased. Of each one of them, therefore, the narrative would gladly have made mention, were it not extended to excess. It must therefore be briefly said that no place was left which did not obtain some benefit and advantage from him.

[40] After, therefore, the fame of this divine man had pervaded the whole world, Many illustrious and learned men follow him. and had attracted to himself souls zealous for virtue, many indeed from the military, bidding warfare ^a hearty farewell, were enrolled in the number of his phalanx. Many also from among those who were distinguished in rank and had attained honors, despising these as mere dreams, or rather as so many Sirens that beguile to the destruction of those who heed them, letting them go, hastened to him with all speed, believing that for Christ's sake ignominy was true glory and even better than kingship itself. Many also from among those who were distinguished for learning, despising the books to which they clung as to certain breasts or fountains, or as the most pleasant delights, or as the most beautiful spectacles, preferred to embrace the elementary instructions of the life that is lived in Christ; and leaving behind the applause and praises of civic life, they preferred to human wisdom the foolishness that is for Christ's sake. His prudence in training them. This good shepherd used them most fittingly, lightening the labors for the weaker, but increasing them for the stronger; so that neither would weakness be crushed by excess, nor would strength grow insolent if not kept in check -- varying and adapting himself toward all with spiritual wisdom: not chastising with ^a rod, but instructing with speech -- speech seasoned with salt, which penetrated the soul and pervaded to the depths of the movements of the mind, as having force from the very confidence of his works. In this way, both consoling, he was terrible to many, and rebuking, he was desirable and pleasant in all things.

The Bessi, or Bessae, are northern peoples. St. Paulinus, Bishop of Nola, mentions them in the poem on the return of St. Nicetas to Dacia, which we gave on January 7, where in number 22 he sings:

For the Bessi, at once harsh in lands and spirits, And harder than their own snow, Now made sheep, are gathered under your leadership Into the hall of peace.

To Ovid also they are regarded as inhabitants of the Danube region, and neighbors of the Getae, thus in book 3 of the Tristia, Elegy 3:

The Sarmatians surround them, ^a fierce race, and the Bessi and the Getae.

Was their language perhaps what in this age is called Slavonic, and is widely used in the North in the ecclesiastical office?

CHAPTER X.

His sacred readings and exhortations.

[41] Who was thus both most useful when associating with many, and most apt at collecting the senses and at causing them to turn inward? So much so that he was in greater tranquility amid tumults than those who are in solitude; and the same man was at once both with the multitude and separated -- and the former brought benefit to others, the latter to himself, or rather both brought benefit to himself through each;

for indeed to help one's neighbor is manifestly to help oneself. Constant reading of sacred Scripture. That moreover which remained with him throughout his whole life, and was as it were something necessary and ever-accompanying, was the reading of the divine Scriptures; which neither time, nor illness, nor old age, nor anything else that befalls interrupted. Indeed, even when he was already infirm and had reached the utmost old age, and could no longer go forward, the book was in his hands, and labors were conquered by labors -- the labors of old age and infirmity, I mean, by the labors of meditation. And when the day did not suffice for these, ^a lamp supplied its light during the nights.

[42] In old age he directs ecclesiastical offices through ^a servant. Since moreover, being ^a man, he had to be worn out and exhausted by many labors, he could not indeed be with the brethren at night as they sang, and admonish them as was fitting. But using ^a minister as his tongue -- the one who poured water on his hands -- through him he signified to the brethren who was to begin the chant, who was to do the reading for those seated, and who was to lead the choir. He did this for two reasons: providing for himself, that he might keep vigil constantly, and for them, that they might observe the rule of the spiritual office without any reproach. But at night these were his great ecclesiastical precepts; during the day, however, those who were his sons begotten according to the spirit came to him and questioned him privately about thoughts that were troubling them. And he openly counseled what pertained to their benefit, not teaching by speech alone, but also confirming by his life what was said.

[43] He admonishes his own most vigorously. At which time what happened was not far from ^a miracle. For that man, who had not even tasted secular learning, and had not even exercised his tongue in the books of the pagans, made his admonitions with such copiousness of words that none of those who had grown old in such books and had sufficiently sharpened their tongue by the art of speaking could easily have contended with him. He taught, therefore, not from human wisdom, but from the grace of the good Spirit (who had, as it were, said to him: "Behold, I have put my words in your mouth," as once to the wise Jeremiah) -- saying many things from himself, and with elegance, but many also from the Apostolic sayings. Jer. 1:9. But especially he frequently recalled the saving constitutions and discourses He frequently reads the monastic constitutions of St. Basil. that instruct toward the exercise -- those, I say, of the great Basil, whose life also he imitated, and being greatly captivated by the love of his speech, he strove to form his soul by that man's character, and his tongue by his ornate eloquence. Indeed, through it he also brought forth the most beautiful of that man's works, taking them up by meditation and preserving in memory what could inspire eager zeal even in the more sluggish. And it would be well to recall those very words that Theodosius took care to hold in memory.

[44] Exhortations to the brethren. "I beseech you, brethren, by the love of our Lord Jesus Christ, who gave Himself for our sins: let us at last undertake the care of our souls. Let us grieve over the vanity of our past life. Let us strive for the future, to the glory of God and His Son. Let us not remain in this sluggishness and softness, always admitting present leisure, but deferring to tomorrow and the day after the beginning of our works -- lest, if we are seized by him who deceives our souls, being by no means furnished with works, we be excluded from the bridal chamber of joy; and in vain and to no purpose we bewail, lamenting the time of life ill-spent with contempt -- then, when nothing will avail those who repent. Now is the acceptable time, now is the day of salvation. This is the time of repentance, that of recompense. This is the time for working, that for giving the reward. This is the time of endurance, that of consolation. Now God is the helper of those who turn from an evil way; then He will be the terrible and incorruptible examiner of actions and words and thoughts. Now we enjoy His patience; then we shall know His just judgment, when we shall rise, some indeed to eternal punishment, but others to eternal life, and each shall receive according to his own deeds. Until what time do we defer obeying Christ, who has called us to His heavenly kingdom? Shall we not awake? Shall we not recall ourselves from our accustomed life He insists on the day of judgment. to the perfection of the Gospel? How shall we behold with our eyes that terrible and signal day of the Lord, on which those indeed who draw near to the right hand of the Lord through good actions shall be received into the kingdom of the Lord, but those who are cast to the left, because they have been abandoned by good works, shall be swallowed by the Gehenna of fire, and eternal darkness, and the gnashing of teeth? But we say indeed that we desire the kingdom of heaven, yet we do not attend to those things by which we might attain it; but, undertaking no labor for the Lord's precept, in the vanity of our mind we suppose ourselves to be about to obtain equal honors with those who resist unto blood against sin."

[45] Then, when he had thus far completed his discourse, he sometimes added things that were his own as well, He brings forth his own additions, and in what manner. and which stirred to obedience, and prepared for endurance, and united in concord. But he added his own words, not as one boasting and glorying, but as one showing himself to feel the same; and at the same time, those things which had already been said by the ancients, but which on account of brevity or the greatness of the thought exceeded the common understanding, he himself by his own additions rendered clearer, making them manifest and plain to all. And thus indeed the sacred Theodosius employed the discourse that was prepared for teaching. But as for that discourse by which doctrines are handed down, how did he conduct himself? And what was his speech and zeal in these matters? Is one indeed to inquire about this, since all things speak more clearly than any voice, His zeal for the faith. and proclaim his zeal for piety? Rather, this must be diligently sought: what tongue is so learned and eloquent as to be able rightly to set forth the trophies of that tongue. For he indeed in all other matters was most gentle and most ready to be honorably defeated rather than to conquer without praise. But where there was danger to piety and true religion, there stood Theodosius with firm and strong resolve, yielding to no man's objection -- one who was seen to be of keen and unconquered spirit, ^a consuming fire, or ^a cleaving axe, or ^a warrior's sword, to use the words of divine Scripture. And of what I say the proofs are many indeed, but it will suffice for me to bring one to remembrance.

CHAPTER XI.

The Emperor Anastasius attempts to corrupt St. Theodosius with money.

[46] Our time once brought forth an Emperor who previously indeed had been, so far as appeared, ^a paradise of delight; but in the end was known by his deeds to be ^a field of destruction, The Emperor Anastasius attacks the Church. and plainly one of those shepherds who scatter and destroy the sheep of their flock, and give them turbid water to drink -- the water of subversion. And to pass over his other deeds -- this indeed the time that follows after us shall receive. For it is not fitting that it be consigned to oblivion, on account of those whose crime is notorious: who, as Isaiah says, conceive labor and bring forth iniquity. Isa. 59:4. The impious man (alas!), whether moved to this by others or having produced this wicked offspring from himself ("For the fool," it says, "will speak foolish things, and his heart will think vain things"), attacks the sacred doctrines of the Fathers who were at Nicaea, as though ^a Mount Zion and ^a tower of strength; wishing those to be abrogated, but the opinion of the Acephali to prevail -- an opinion alien to reason and truly acephalous, that is, headless, as one might rightly say. Isa. 32. And he mixes wickedness with power, so that by the latter he might deceive, and by the former render effectual what he was striving for -- so that neither would force, if it were mixed and not at all tempered with persuasion, seem oppressive and plainly violent, as having drawn its strength from mere opportunity alone; nor again could persuasion, if it were powerless and weak, accomplish but little and among few.

[47] Hence he assailed some of the bishops with threats and exile, others with honors and flattery; and sometimes he even endeavored to corrupt them with money He variously tempts bishops; Theodosius with gifts. and to make his own evil common to others, and to communicate the disease -- changeable no less than Proteus, as the fables of the Greeks say, and no less varied in mind than that one in appearance. Finally, he also assaults this great tower. His engines were gold, and not ^a small amount that could be despised, but amounting to the sum of thirty pounds; and the gift was not openly and nakedly ^a gift, lest it not be accepted, He variously tempts bishops; Theodosius with gifts. as something that would arouse suspicion of avarice. But ^a specious and very plausible pretext also concealed it -- namely, the poor, and what was necessary for the needs of the sick brethren. With these things he was trying to reduce ^a freeborn man to servitude. "And if you consider what is being introduced by you, O excellent sir, to be good and pleasing to pious souls," I would say to him, "why do you not allow its lovers to be drawn by it of their own accord, and those who are lovers of beauty to be conquered by its own beauty? Instead you adorn with money and gifts what is usually done for things that are ugly and deformed, as being alien ornaments and artifices."

[48] When therefore that great man perceived what was being done by that mean and abject soul, Theodosius accepts his money; rashly set against him, he was, as the common saying goes, an eagle in the clouds -- one who could neither be caught nor conquered; but in truth rather he catches the one who was pretending. For the gold he does not reject, lest he might seem to harbor suspicion rashly and furnish some occasion for offense. But he afflicts his adversary with ^a double loss, at once depriving him of his money (since he was otherwise avaricious) and at the same time showing the vain and empty hope by which he was led -- ^a hope that had nothing pertaining to its aim -- to be futile. But the lion he thought he already had in his snares, when he had most vehemently provoked him against himself, nobly demonstrated, as the proverb has it, that ^a doe had engaged ^a lion in combat. For when the time had now come and the Emperor had demanded his confession, and those sent for this purpose were present, here consider his virtue and fortitude of soul. For having gathered together all the citizens of the desert, and having said that the time had come for the fulfillment of that prophetic saying which bids the warrior become gentle, and having armed them for the contests to be undertaken for the sake of piety, he showed himself to be the leader, the soldier, the brave and mighty man, he most bravely rejects his demands. and first in all things, and engaged the Emperor by letter. And most willingly would I have recalled those very proofs by which Theodosius showed the things that seemed most forceful among the proposals to be manifest trifles; but on account of the length, and in view of the matters at hand (for many hands and books would be needed), I shall recall only the boldness of speech he used at the end. For thus it will be shown in ^a few words how free the man was, and how he could by no means be cast down or depressed. And what he wrote is as follows.

CHAPTER XII.

The letter of St. Theodosius to the Emperor, and his response.

[49] "Since these two things are set before us, O Emperor -- either to live shamefully and basely by consenting to the Acephali, or to die honorably by following the right doctrines of the Fathers -- know that death has been preferred by us. For so far are we from following these new doctrines that not only shall we remain in our place, following the laws of the preceding Fathers, but we shall also piously cast off and subject to anathema those who have presumed to defend anything other than these; nor shall we by force accept anyone ordained from among the Acephali. God forbid that this should happen, O Christ our King! And if any such thing should occur, calling as witness the God of truth, or rather Him Himself who is now assailed by their curses and blasphemies, we shall resist even unto blood; and as men willingly lay down their lives for their country, so much more willingly shall we pour out our souls for the right faith, even if we are to see the holy places themselves destroyed by fire. For what need is there of the name alone, when the sacred things themselves are in truth being treated with contempt? We therefore shall by no means admit thinking, The four Ecumenical Councils. far less saying, anything that disagrees with the holy and Ecumenical Councils. Of which the first is adorned with three hundred and eighteen Fathers, who, having assembled against Arius in the Holy Spirit at Nicaea, subject the wretched man to anathema and cut him off from the body of the Church -- him who alienated from the Father's essence Him who is the Son by nature, and who introduced doctrines alien to the right faith. The second, gathered by divine impulse against Macedonius, who himself also wickedly spoke against the good Spirit, casts him out. The third, against the profane and accursed tongue of Nestorius, who himself also had spoken absurdities against the plan of Christ's incarnation, beautifully assembled at Ephesus. After these, the one that was also at Chalcedon, of six hundred and thirty divine Fathers: who, having also said what agreed with the earlier ones and having set forth more precisely what those had said, cut off the unhappy and accursed Eutyches together with Nestorius from the body of the Church, and confirm the Apostolic faith; and whoever did not so believe, they decree to be alien to the Church. Against these let fire be kindled, let the sword be sharpened, and let bitter death be brought upon us -- nay, if it were possible, innumerable deaths for one; but we shall never betray the true religion, nor shall we disgrace by abrogating the things rightly determined by the Fathers. Theodosius steadfastly professes the faith. Let their labors be witnesses, which they undertook for the faith, and their many struggles. But these things shall remain firm and immovable, both among us and among those to whom it is right and fitting to follow God and us. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, be the guardian and guide of your power."

[50] When the Emperor had received this letter, sending both to use force and attempting to persuade, rather submitting himself, Letter of Anastasius to Theodosius. he undertook to excuse himself of those things of which he was accused, and composed ^a letter thus: "Of this innovation, O man of God, we are not the authors. We confidently invoke as witness the eye of God, who sees all things. But this disturbance originates from those whom it behooved more than others to honor these things with silence. But now, each desiring to appear first both in the faculty of speech and in rank, they wound themselves and draw us to one another. What then ought we to do but, while they are disturbed, not be disturbed along with them, but embrace quietude -- that thus we may persuade those who have resolved to cause disturbance here, to dismiss such contention and be at rest with us? For it surely does not escape your piety that certain monks and clerics, who claim for themselves the right opinion of faith, stir up these scandals, striving, as we said, to show themselves as holding the first place in the knowledge of these matters; and that they carry the mystery and the faith about on their lips. But since these things cannot be comprehended by men, they show nothing other than that those men are liars and sycophants. From which also arises the great indignation of God against us, because we suppose the mystery not to be ^a mystery, and not to consist in faith alone, but in absurd trifles -- and we condemn those who taught us to venerate divine things by faith and mystery. You therefore ought now, if ever, to pray for the Church, that God may look upon us with benign eyes and bring peace to His churches, which are so badly divided on account of the ambitions of the Prelates themselves. And the eulogies that have been sent by you, we have received most willingly; but what our way of life is, the pious monks who have been sent by you will report." And this indeed is how the letter stood.

[51] But the Emperor, who had written these things, and had then relaxed ^a little from his fury, Anastasius again persecutes the Catholics. and had restrained the war he was waging against the right opinion -- or rather against his own head -- after no long interval was seized by grievous repentance; and as though it repented him that he had resolved to be altogether too little pious, and he condemned himself for excessive facility, he returned to his former ways. For it is difficult, as the proverb says, to turn away ^a donkey that is rubbing itself. Again, therefore, edicts against piety; and again, the noble Martyr without blood -- since indeed one must consider the will, not the outcome of events.

CHAPTER XIII.

Zeal, and exile for the cause of faith.

[52] When all were plainly at ^a loss for counsel and uncertain what to do -- and some were defending against the blasphemy, [St. Theodosius teaches that the four Synods are to be received as the four Gospels.] while others feared even merely to contradict; and perhaps in this matter they would yield the freedom of speech to the common Father, waiting, as it were, for the signal of their leader -- then, then it became manifest what old age can do when it is strengthened by zeal, and bears itself bravely and with youthful vigor against the dangers that are undertaken for the good and the honorable. For despising those writings and decrees, the innumerable threats, the crowd that revered the Emperor and God equally, and the soldiers who were watching those who might say any such thing -- despising all these as idle noise, and saying that it was not his part but the part of children to be frightened by such thunder, taking on the lion's charge, he entered the temple of God, ascended the pulpit from which the priests are accustomed to read, signified silence to the people with his hand, raised his voice and said: "If anyone does not esteem the four holy synods as highly as the four Gospels, let him be anathema." Having said this, and having struck the people with admiration like an angel, and having taken the voice from all by the greatness of the marvel, he proceeded in silence through the midst of them as they kept silent and were as though asleep, thinking they were seeing ^a dream and not what was truly happening. And this was the stratagem of the man -- from which they also resolved to place the aforesaid holy synods in the sacred diptychs.

[53] After this, having delayed not at all and having paused not even ^a little, he visited the cities round about, leading disciples and other zealots from the desert, like some commander of an army leading those under him, He visits the cities with his followers, instructing all. first in his gray hairs, first also in showing his eager zeal of spirit -- visiting all, made all things to all men, reassuring those who doubted, further confirming those who were steadfast, rousing those who were more sluggish, increasing the diligence of those of ready and eager spirit, adding courage to those who were fearful, exhorting those who were contending, terrifying the adversaries because he was of so great and noble ^a spirit that there was no approach to him, preventing all heretical disease by the swiftness of his remedy -- teaching all that the Word of God was indeed at the same time God and man, but one hypostasis or person, having each of these by nature: divinity, that is, and humanity.

[54] To prove what has been said, he adduced that holy Ecumenical synod, which itself also treats of Christ in this way, The heresies of Nestorius and Eutyches. and by this means escapes the deviations of the heretics that occur in either direction. For by the fact, he said, that it confesses one person, it repels the impious heresy of Nestorius; but by the fact that it does not deny two natures, it drives out the more impious heresy of Eutyches and Dioscorus -- neither, as Nestorius did, dividing the one Christ into two sons and hypostases, nor, as Eutyches and Dioscorus, and also Severus, confusing into one nature the divinity and humanity of the one Christ. For each of them exceeds what is fitting: one fleeing division, the other conjunction; the former, so as to speak of two sons, the others, so as not even to acknowledge properly one son -- they have wretchedly fallen. For Nestorius indeed, since he feared confusion, it came into his mind to say that the conjunction of divinity with humanity had been made by relation and dignity or authority alone; so that along with the natures he also very impiously defended two hypostases and introduced two sons -- one God, begotten of the Father separately and apart, and the other from the holy Virgin, attributing to him the dignity of adoption by grace alone.

[55] But Eutyches and Dioscorus, and also Severus, who has recently joined them The heresy of Eutyches is refuted. and has chosen to share in their impiety, wishing to remove the most absurd division of Nestorius, treat evil with evil. And they too in turn foolishly dare to introduce confusion, calling the nature of divinity and humanity one and the same, and not being afraid, so far as it rested with them, to subject the impassible divinity to suffering. For if according to their opinion Christ's nature is one, and He is truly God and man, then the divinity was also ^a partaker of death. But let the mouths of the wicked be stopped, and let the wicked perish miserably with their doctrines. Let the blessed Peter also rebuke them, saying that Christ suffered for us in the flesh -- but not adding "in His divinity." 1 Pet. 4:1. For even though, as regards essence, the divinity of Christ was united to the suffering flesh, it was not itself ^a partner in the suffering. For how could it be? For the divinity is altogether impassible. Rightly, therefore, and securely has it been proclaimed by this holy synod that the two natures of divinity and humanity are honored without confusion, without change, without division, in one person: the same one begotten before the ages from the Father as regards His divinity, but in the last times born again of the holy Virgin by the more recent law of humanity; like the Father and the Mother in essence; the same one without father and without mother -- the former being beautifully recognized from the generation that was below, the latter from the one above; the Only-begotten and the Firstborn -- the former as regards the nature of divinity (for as regards that, He has no brother), the latter as regards the essence of humanity (for many came after Him, adopted by the Father as sons through baptism).

[56] Teaching therefore these things and others like them, that free tongue, St. Theodosius is sent into exile. which boldness in speaking had sharpened, since it had provoked the Emperor to greater anger, he is condemned by him to perpetual exile -- by him, I say, who already knew not of his own inevitable destruction and the departure that was to come from it. And therefore the Emperor himself departed from the life then present, while this divine man was immediately freed from exile; and that violent storm was stilled for the Churches, by the will clearly of Him who executes judgment for those who suffer injustice, He is recalled. and by ^a more divine decree. And those who had attacked them like robbers suffered what they were about to do to others; and, as the proverb says, the tile was turned, and they were condemned to exile. But those who had been expelled from their Sees were gloriously restored to them, and each was marvelously returned to his flock.

[57] He is praised by the Roman Pontiff. Thus preserved, he was an admonition and incentive to virtue not only for those who were present and witnessed his contests, but also for those who were far removed. For when both the one who beautifully held the See of ancient Rome (and he was Agapitus) and the one who governed the See of Antioch, Ephraim, had learned about him, they too proclaimed the right faith by letters -- in which many things were also composed in praise of this Blessed man, which brought no less glory to those who had written than to him who was praised, because the praise was given not for flattery but plainly for truth. Since moreover it is difficult to recount all his contests for the orthodox faith, it must be said in summary that he had ^a wonderful capacity to hate the enemies of Christ with the Prophet; He holds Origen in aversion. but he especially showed his aversion to Origen, who thought it his business to weave the trifles of the pagans into the divine preaching of the Apostles, and to jest in matters that are by no means jesting. Ps. 138.

CHAPTER XIV.

A cancer miraculously cured. Grain multiplied.

[58] In the Hierateum the Cross is exalted annually. But it is time to pass on to what follows next, and to gratify the ears of the pious and devout with the miracles of this man. For when the impious Emperor had sent edicts to all regions, that all -- by families, I say, and sodalities -- should assemble in the same place, this sacred assembly was also gathered, the distinguished gray-haired elders who were in the desert, around the place called the Hierateum, with their common father and lover of his children. This is ^a place of the chair, which tradition says was built by Constantine, the great among Emperors, in which it is the perpetually observed custom that the venerable Cross is exalted annually.

[59] A woman suffering from cancer approaches Theodosius. A certain woman, who was suffering from ^a disease in her breast (physicians usually call it cancer), had long been oppressed by it; and she had abstained from no remedy, yet had received no help from any, except that she hoped the more in God because human remedies had failed. When she had entered through the gate called the Angelic Gate, she stood sorrowfully near the choir that surrounded them. And looking at one of them (he was the most devout Isidorus), who later presided over the holy Laura or monastery called Syca, when by her very appearance, her look, and the flow of her tears she had signified the pain that cruelly tormented her, and then had drawn nearer to him (for the pain did not allow her to maintain that modesty which befits women), she asked whether the great Theodosius was also among this sacred multitude, and what he looked like -- for the man's fame had well reached her. He, when he had learned the reason she sought him and had at the same time seen the disease and how troublesome it was even by its appearance alone, and how it could turn the eyes away from the bitter spectacle -- knowing that it belonged to that man and to the spirit that was in him to loose these things with the powerful remedy of grace, since he himself was not ignorant of that man's virtue in Christ -- pointed out the healer to the woman with his finger, and described him accurately by signs.

[60] She then approached gradually and without any commotion, greatly thirsting for him, and having in her mind that woman who suffered from ^a flow of blood. Matt. 9:20. Then, when she was near, she gently opened her breast and caused it to touch his cowl; By secretly touching his cowl she is instantly healed. and again, like that woman, she stole ^a cure, and from great pains found relief without labor. For as soon as she touched the cloth, her pain departed -- as if some darkness had been dissolved by the coming of light, or hay by the onset of fire. But he (for he could in no way be ignorant that she had so beautifully and faithfully stolen the cure) turned at once, and when he had seen the woman, he dissolved the fear that had seized her into great joy of healing, saying: "Be of good courage, O daughter. For my Lord has said: 'Your faith has saved you.'" The divine Isidorus, running at once to the woman (for he desired to feast his eyes too on the sight of the miracle), when he reached her and looked more closely, saw the breast completely healthy and so free of all disease that neither ^a scar nor any trace was imprinted on it of the severe ulcer that had been there shortly before. Matt. 9:22. Thus God reveals the virtue that lies hidden, and does not allow those who wish only that their good deeds be manifest to His eyes alone to remain concealed, nor does He leave them in ^a corner; nor does He reserve them only for the future to be proclaimed; but those who are here hidden He also brings into the light and proclaims; and those who are often obscure and without glory He makes famous and illustrious, and causes them to sit with the princes of the people. But this is indeed of such ^a kind. We must pursue other things as well.

[61] Theodosius visits Bethlehem. After the tyrant had been cut off by the sickle of death, and the Fathers had certainly obtained what they had eagerly sought, and each had returned to his own monastery, this renowned man now went to Bethlehem for the sake of prayer, and now, having prayed, returned. Refreshing the great labor of the journey, he turned aside to Marcianus. This man was full of spiritual gifts. He turns aside to Marcianus. When they had come to embrace and had bestowed on each other ^a spiritual kiss, with their souls also communing, first there was set before them ^a table of discourses, by which they excellently nourished their spirits, delighting themselves with the sayings of the Saints and the narratives of the elders, with whom they shared ^a kinship of character. But when the time invited them to remember also the nourishment of the body, there was no grain at hand to set bread before them; and the good Marcianus ordered his disciples to cook lentils. And these indeed were set before them without bread. But when the great Theodosius perceived such manifest want, he who was needy proved rich in his poverty, and himself greatly exerted himself to receive his guests with ^a more lavish repast. He therefore ordered his disciple to bring forth from the pouch the bread that he had prepared for the journey. And these were brought forth and set before them. And they, on account of the love that gladdens, celebrated no less splendid ^a banquet from what was necessary than if superfluous foods had been produced.

[62] As usually happens, conversation was also mixed with the banquet, From ^a single grain of wheat, the entire granary is divinely filled. and many of the remarks were witty and pleasant. And the divine Marcianus asked him with good cheer, saying: "Do not take it amiss that you are lodging with hosts who are suffering from such hunger, nor complain that we did not set bread before you, since grain has most shamefully failed us." When he had said this, the admirable Theodosius, fixing his eyes on the beard of Marcianus, saw ^a grain of wheat that had fallen from I know not where; and he picked it up with ^a cheerful and deft hand and said: "Behold, grain! How then do you say that you lack grain?" And this indeed had been said -- or rather done -- by him wittily and pleasantly. But Marcianus, having received the grain as if it were some excellent and outstanding seed in his upturned hands, placed it in the grain storehouse, believing that it would bear much fruit without labor and would surpass the industry of farmers. And this happened to him far more abundantly and copiously than he had hoped. For when on the following day he was about to open the door of the storehouse (O the hidden miracles of the Lord!), he sees the interior full of grain -- grain that had truly come forth without agriculture, or rather with the agriculture of prayer alone. When therefore Marcianus had not hesitated at all, he immediately sent one of his disciples to the great Theodosius, reporting to him the wondrous and ineffable outcome of the matter, and at the same time inviting him to share in the admirable spectacle. When he too had come, the door was slightly opened, but the grain was pushing itself out, since the storehouse could not hold the quantity, and thus ^a great deal was pouring forth from it. This is similar to the earlier miracles, and not unlike the miracle of the loaves which my Christ once performed. For the operation is altogether one and the same in both -- except that there He Himself was present and administering, while here He used His servant as the minister of the miracle, just as earlier He had used the Apostles. Matt. 14 and 15. After this, we must also recall the following.

CHAPTER XV.

The danger of drowning and miscarriages averted.

[63] A certain woman, whose illustrious homeland was Alexandria, and who abounded in great wealth -- let it also be said what was much better and worthier in her to be committed to the ears: namely, that she was rich in good character and devoted herself to ^a pious and devout life. Having taken her son (he was her only-begotten, and alone in himself rightly preserving the seeds of the family), she frequented the monastery and brought him to the feet of the great Theodosius. The boy, even before he was brought by his mother, when he saw Theodosius from afar, immediately cried out that this was the one who, holding him above the well, had preserved him. A boy falls into ^a well. When the woman was asked what the boy's words meant, she said that he had been playing with his companions; but while intent on the game and not watching what was at his feet, he had been thrown into ^a well, and ^a very deep one at that. Those who were present mourned the untimely and bitter death of the boy. For there was no one who did not think the boy had been immediately suffocated by the water. For what else could they suspect from the event? Then also, acting humanely, they immediately lowered themselves into the well -- not to take him before he died (for how could there be even the slightest hope of that?) but to pull out his body before it decomposed, as ^a gift of calamity to his mother, ^a bitter spectacle for the eyes, and ^a goad of grief -- preserved as from ^a shipwreck, at once something to flee from and something to long for in the eyes of ^a mother.

[64] He is saved by St. Theodosius. But after they descended and found him sitting upon the water, not even ^a little bit wet, but supported as if by something solid, they remained with mouths open, marveling, doubting, not knowing what to think about what they were seeing. But when they had drawn him from the water and had judged that it had not happened without divine providence, they asked him. He said that ^a certain monk had stood by him, endowed with such ^a habit, garment, and form, describing all the distinguishing marks, which were most similar to those of Father Theodosius. "And his hands," he said, "were the cause that I did not perish in the water -- hands that rightly sustained me and kept me above the water."

[65] The divine favor is recognized. The mother both narrated these things and added: "I," she said, "since from that time I received my son back, have been traveling through cities and villages and mountains and precipices, undergoing labors -- many indeed, but not unpleasant -- that I might be allowed to encounter his savior. Now that my son has recognized him from afar, he has also given me, his mother, to recognize him; and he openly proclaims him with ^a free tongue, one that surpasses all suspicion and falsehood, and fills me with joy and admiration, and being driven as by some divine frenzy, does not permit me to rest." Having said these things, she also proceeded to action, immediately throwing herself at the feet of the Father and pressing his footprints with both hands and embracing them with her lips and soul, pouring hot tears upon them -- calling the great Theodosius the savior and author of life, not only of her son but of herself as well; for her life would truly have been no life hereafter, or even far more bitter than death itself, if her son, she said, had perished so untimely and miserably.

[66] A woman, after frequent miscarriages, bears ^a healthy son. The narrative can also tell something else similar to the foregoing. For ^a certain other woman, who labored grievously in childbirth every year, gained no profit from it. For before the infant was brought forth into the light, it had departed this life, and grief and death followed the labors, and death followed the delivery. This woman, therefore, who thus bore many children yet was childless, having been tormented by this evil for ^a long time, at last barely found ^a remedy for the evil; and having fled to the Saint and told him her condition and calamity, she earnestly besought the man with tears rather than words to stop the evil for her, that it might advance no further. "And it will be stopped," she said, "in no other way than by your name alone, if you permit what is born to be so called. And this will be for me both ^a release from calamity and for my child the cause of life."

[67] She names him Theodosius; she brings him to be ^a monk under St. Theodosius. Having made this request, and having found the great Theodosius giving his assent, and having named the child that was subsequently born Theodosius, she found ^a reward worthy of her vehement faith. For no longer did the labors of childbirth produce tears for her, but openly an occasion of joy, since she still saw the firstborn among the living, Theodosius, surviving and completing the chorus of the monks of him who had begotten him according to the spirit; and the fruit of prayer rather than of the womb was seen from the works -- since the latter had been ^a mother of the dying, but the former of the living. And therefore he was brought to the monastery by her who bore him, and was in turn given back to God, so that as he had obtained the present life, he might also attain the life that endures. One could recount many other such things about him.

[68] And so another woman, having come from the city of Bethlehem, Another woman is freed from the same affliction. who similarly labored in childbirth, and whose outcome was equally unhappy, and who was grievously afflicted in giving birth and was called into great danger -- she too obtained from the great Theodosius the same cure by using the same remedy, naming her son by the same name as his. And she not only saw him grown and already arrived at manhood, but also excelling in the craft of his hands, being the best builder of his time. Admirable are the things that have been told; but what remains is far more admirable than these.

CHAPTER XVI.

Noxious creatures restrained. Malevolent men punished.

[69] Theodosius restrains locusts and grasshoppers from doing harm. When locust larvae and locusts were once devastating the lands, the great Theodosius, bound by the inescapable chains of old age and unable even to use his feet freely, postponing everything for the salvation of many, just as he was in his condition of feet and supplying with ^a staff, in the manner of the aged, what he lacked, made the journey -- so that he might thus the more draw God also to mercy, since He would behold the necessity of his going forth. With his disciples supporting his hands and helping his steps in every way, he reached, leaning on them, the place where an immense multitude of locust larvae and locusts was plundering and devastating the fields no less than an enemy. When therefore the Saint stood there and had raised his hands in supplication to God, and had then taken one of these locust larvae and locusts into his hands, and partly discoursed with the most worthless and tiny creatures as with fellow servants, and partly commanded them to spare the labor of the poor and their agriculture ("For this," he said, "your common Lord also commands you"), and when he had spoken to them so gently as to living creatures, ^a miracle followed what had been said. For so great ^a swarm thereafter remained in the region, neither passing elsewhere nor inflicting damage on the places where it lingered; but as if having made ^a treaty with the fields, it flew about from then on and gnawed the thorns, while friendship and peace prevailed between it and the crops, and it abstained from them entirely.

[70] But these things he did by himself, while other things he also rightly accomplished through others. For when on another occasion ^a similar scourge was pressing the land and seemed about to descend upon that very village from which all the neighbors procured provisions, and which generously shared with many what they needed, He repels noxious creatures with blessed oil. when he had filled ^a vessel with oil and sanctified it with divine invocation, he sent it to the village; and when he had entrusted it to faithful and pious men, this alone sufficed to be the remedy of so great an evil. For then suddenly the harmful agent was removed from their midst, and the village was preserved unharmed.

[71] The brethren once needed clothing; and they were troubling him to provide something for purchasing it, since if willingness and compassion were removed, there was nothing. But trusting in the Lord's truthful promise, he then used these words among them, saying: "Be not anxious about tomorrow." Matt. 6:34. On the following day the effects followed what had been promised. Clothing is divinely provided for the monks. For immediately someone arriving from somewhere gave ^a hundred gold coins, which were given and served for the brethren's use in purchasing clothing.

[72] A certain Julian, who from his earliest youth had frequented the great Theodosius, A woman who speaks ill of him is punished. and afterward was himself also known as an excellent pastor, and was entrusted with the administration of the Church in Bostra -- he therefore narrated these things about him as well: that when they were in the city of the Bostrans (for the great Theodosius always had him as ^a companion in the life lived in Christ, and wished to philosophize with him and be ^a companion of the desert), when therefore they had been in the said city, first ^a certain woman, notable and distinguished for vice, having called the Saint ^a deceiver and impostor, paid the penalty in their sight, undergoing the most bitter punishment for her intemperate tongue, when her soul burst forth in ^a grievous death.

[73] The custom of summoning monks to prayer by striking ^a wooden board. "Then," he said, "having left the city, we were proceeding to the church of the Apostles, which was nearby. But certain monks from ^a neighboring monastery, who were infected with the disease of Severus, when they saw us approaching, were striking the board that summons to church before the accustomed hour, signaling the assembly to the brethren. But the great Theodosius, perceiving their treachery, when his spirit was kindled with divine zeal, aptly employed the words of the Lord: The destruction of the heretics' monastery is foretold. he justly avenged himself on those who were mocking them, threatening that not one stone would remain upon another in that place. And indeed the effect followed the threats. A short time passed, and ^a certain multitude of Saracens, making ^a nocturnal raid, consigned that monastery to fire, and plundered whatever was there; and they led the monks away captive, and now the site stands, ^a bitter spectacle for the eyes, which deserves to be wept over rather than to be seen." But this narrative is plainly one of discipline and chastisement. The narrative wishes to add another, which is plainly ^a partaker of grace and benefit.

CHAPTER XVII.

He assists those in various perils. He foretells the earthquake at Antioch.

[74] The commander of the Roman army (it is customary to call him the Count of the East), by name Kericus, bold in war but pious toward God. The Count of the East visits him. He, being about to make an incursion against the Persians, judged it necessary first to hasten to Jerusalem and from there to take assistance against the enemy. Having resolved to visit the man of God on his way (for his fame greatly attracted him, and the allurements of his virtue), as he was departing, he was permitted to hear many other things from that sacred tongue, and this among the rest: that he should not, like the divine David, hope in the bow, nor place his salvation in the sword; nor should he trust in the thousands of many men; but he should know one helper, an unconquerable power, for whom it is easy that one should pursue ^a thousand and ten thousand be routed by two. Wearing his cilice, he wins ^a victory. When the Saint had discoursed these things to the Count, that man was so captivated by his admonitions and so began to burn with desire for him and ardent faith, that the very cilice with which the great man was inwardly clothed he asked for in place of any other thing -- as arms by which to preserve himself. Having received and put it on, and having undertaken his accustomed battles, he returned shortly after victorious, having displayed noble deeds of both courage and hand, and ones worthy of remembrance.

[75] Theodosius appears to him in battle and guides him. Having therefore returned illustrious and famous for his brave deeds in war, he was by no means ungrateful to his benefactor, nor, like many who, once they have obtained what they sought, forget the benefit; but keeping himself constant in all things, he came again to the Saint with vehement exultation of heart, giving thanks and ascribing to him the entire victory. For he said: "At the very time of battle, when I had put on your cilice in place of ^a breastplate, there came to my mind the confidence to rush upon the enemy. But when we had joined hands in combat, great darkness arose, as in ^a dense fog; and by all the others, even things close by could not be seen. But I seemed to see you alone going before me and signifying with your hand and admonishing me to leave these parts of the battle and fight in those; and I saw you as leader driving your horse until, being ^a terrible and unbearable sight to the enemy, and having struck all with vehement terror, I caused them to take to their heels and willingly choose shameful flight." And these things were told by him who was also deemed worthy of this divine apparition.

[76] Appearing to many who are suffering, he comes to their aid. Not to him alone, but also to others the great Theodosius came: to many indeed while sailing, to many while making ^a journey, to some who were struggling with ^a raging sea and the force of the winds, to others who had fallen into the jaws of wild beasts -- to some in their dreams, to others while their eyes truly saw him -- and delivered them from perils. But not only to human beings was he so prompt ^a helper; the narrative is prepared to show the benevolence of this good soul even toward brute animals. For ^a fierce lion once met ^a traveler leading ^a donkey, and the lion ignored the traveler but attacked the donkey. When his name is invoked, ^a lion is subdued. And the traveler, as happens with those evils that come unexpectedly, was seized with stupor and fear; but the swiftness of the moment caused him to find one sole remedy for bringing aid -- namely, the name of St. Theodosius. When he had uttered it, immediately both the anger of the beast ceased and its vehement charge was checked.

[77] Now what was he like in foreknowledge of the future? For it is fitting to show briefly all things that belong to him and to offer, as it were, ^a taste of them, so that it may be manifest to all that just as he lacked none of the things that are accomplished by virtue, He shines with the spirit of prophecy. so neither was he without the charisms or gratuitous gifts. He once commanded that the board be struck at an unusual hour -- for it was not yet the second hour of the day -- and ordered that it should signal the assembly to the brethren. They indeed came together (for they could not contradict, having been thoroughly taught obedience), but when they had assembled, they asked why they had come together before the appointed time. But he (O pure soul! O eyes that see all things from afar!), weeping mournfully and pitiably, said: "We must pray, O Fathers, we must pray. For I see the wrath of the Lord, which is already being stirred against the East." This he said. They however at that time neither saw anything nor shared in his grief, since they did not look with the same eyes as he. But on the sixth or seventh day after he had foretold it, it was heard that Antioch had been overthrown by ^a great earthquake Antioch collapses in an earthquake. at the very time he had already predicted -- and that so many ornaments, so great ^a beauty and splendor had fallen, and the city lay reduced to vile dust: ^a city that received neither tears worthy of so great ^a fall, nor lamentation equal to the calamity. And such was his foreknowledge. The preceding narrative has shown the many things nobly accomplished by him.

CHAPTER XVIII.

His virtue in old age and his last illness.

[78] But this also must be added, and it must be clearly set forth to what height of humility he attained. Two of the brethren were once contending and fighting with one another. He counseled them to settle their enmities and to exchange their hatred for the friendship that befits every Christian, and much more monks. He reconciles those at odds by humbly prostrating himself before them. Since however his words did not persuade them, and he saw that their enmities were greater than could be appeased by his words, the shepherd immediately becomes ^a suppliant to his sheep, the master to his disciples, the father to his sons; and he himself sought their good as though it were his own benefit; and the physician begged to heal their disease and wound. He begged not lightly or with indifference, but earnestly and vehemently, and yet bringing great moderation and humility. For casting himself on the ground he lay there, an open figure of humility, believing he could soften the hardness of their enmity; nor did he cease to entreat until he had softened their hatred and bound with the bonds of friendship those who had been badly divided from one another.

[79] [Having been unjustly excommunicated by ^a brother, he does not despise the sentence.] He once separated ^a certain brother, acting justly, with justice joined, that is, to clemency; for he saw that the disease needed such ^a remedy. But that man, exchanging good for evil, both overstepped his rank and in turn inflicted the same penalty on one who had no similar guilt -- as if one were to order the healthy to endure what the sick endure; so that it is manifest the brother too was suffering from another and more grievous disease, namely impudence. What then does the great Theodosius, so exceedingly lofty and heavenly in moderation and humility? He accepts the penalty as one rightly imposed and as one that had application to himself; nor did he partake of the divine sacraments until the very one who had bound him himself also brought about the release. For he was manifestly an imitator of Moses -- terrible indeed and inexorable to those who sinned against God, but very gentle and mild to those who offended against himself; so that he neither fell into contempt on account of his mildness and gentleness, nor was burdensome and oppressive on account of excessive severity, as one who ruled only over bodies, not over souls. For I call that authority which proceeds from fear alone authority over bodies; but that which also has desire tempered with it, authority over souls as well.

[80] Not only of Moses, but of any other man who excelled in virtue he imitated the excellence: He reproduces in himself the virtues of various Saints. as of Abraham, in that he obeyed God in all things and despised all things for His sake -- not only money or homeland, or kinsmen and relatives, but even nature and life itself. For to kinsmen he thought not only God but also those who lived from God should be preferred, and he drew them rather to kinship on account of virtue and the likeness of zeal and will that converged to the same end. He imitated Isaac in obedience unto death to spiritual Fathers, and the pleasing and acceptable sacrifice of his body; Jacob in perfect sincerity and freedom from all wickedness (and the faithful witnesses of this are those who made trial of intimacy and familiarity with him); the solitude and fasting of John; with exact faith the vehemence and ardor of Peter; the perpetual action of Paul for what is honorable -- his affliction and diligence, and the fact that he had pervaded nearly the whole world, just as Paul, partly on foot, partly by his words, partly by his fame. And to say it once and for all: as ^a certain most excellent painter who gathered from every quarter the most excellent colors of virtue and mixed them rightly, he set forth his life as ^a kind of exemplar, easier to praise than to imitate, for those zealous for virtue.

[81] Nor was the admirable Job outside the chorus of those taken for imitation; but his endurance also he imitated, always indeed, but more openly at the end. He is tormented by ^a long illness. For when he was now about to depart from human life and to receive the rewards and recompenses he had hoped for in exchange for the labors he had borne, at the last ^a prolonged illness seized him -- one scarcely tolerable even for ^a youthful and flourishing body, let alone one worn out by so great an old age and by the affliction he had undertaken for virtue's sake. For this reason he also lay in bed for ^a whole year, struggling with unconquerable pains and extended by such afflictions. For then, wasted by consumption and his skin eaten away, and having become, as they say, ^a shadow's image, so that nothing was left to him except bones, he nevertheless did nothing soft, nothing base, nothing unworthy, nor spoke anything unfitting to the spirit that befitted such ^a life. Indeed, when ^a certain elder had observed the intense and vehement force of the disease and had said to him: "Pray to God; perhaps the evil will thus be checked" -- looking at him not with the friendly and kind look he was accustomed to, he said: "Do not, O Father, say anything to me about that. For when such thoughts had often assailed me, judging these to be rather the snares of the Evil One He refuses to pray to be freed from his illness. than counsel, I drove them away with all my might, having reckoned within myself that of the goods of this present life we have reaped ^a sufficiently great harvest, inasmuch as we have obtained glory and fame. It is therefore altogether necessary to be afflicted and to suffer evil, and to have some portion worthy of the consolation that is there -- lest that saying be rightly spoken to us also which was said to the rich man: 'You received your good things in your lifetime.'" Luke 16:25. Hearing these things, the elder hid himself, and had absolutely nothing to reply to the Saint.

[82] Moreover, of his patience and endurance there are many other signs as well; and witnesses are also those who ministered to him during the time of his infirmity, that nothing of the operations of his soul was stolen from him by the disease, Even while sleeping he prays. nor did he seem at all inferior to himself or more tepid in his love of the divine Scriptures. And this too is ^a sign of that vehement meditation upon divine things. For even though his eye often tasted sleep, having been bent by the nature that conquers all, yet his lips certainly did what they were accustomed to do. Therefore even in the intervals when he would rise from sleep, his lips would catch ^a song to God; so that what the divine David says was fulfilled in him: "And in the night His song is with me." Ps. 41:9 (42:8).

CHAPTER XIX.

Death, burial, miracles.

[83] On his deathbed he foretells many things. Moreover they say that he divined many things at his death, and also foretold many things about the future through the Spirit that dwelt within him. For when the entire assembly of the brotherhood stood around him and each one, in appearance mourning him but in truth mourning himself -- as one about to lose such ^a Father who had begotten them in Christ according to Paul's saying, and who far surpassed the affections of carnal fathers in his love for them, and with whom they would rather have perished together, if it were possible, than see him departing -- he, having sufficiently exhorted them to remain in their place and to bear bravely to the end the temptations that assailed them, and to obey those who would preside over the monastery after him, and having foretold all things that were to happen, gave them this sign by which the things he had said would reach their fulfillment: "If after my departure," he said, "you see my flock increase, and the more time goes on, the greater and better it becomes, then I say you ought to conceive good hope about the other things as well. But if these things shall not be so, it is clear that the rest will not reach fulfillment either."

[84] Whether these things came to pass as he foretold and reached their fulfillment, the things that are seen testify before all else: His monastery grew both in buildings and in monks. the grandeur of the buildings of the monastery, the multitude of those who dwell there, and their virtue of such ^a kind that no one can compete with them. And who could more clearly have shown his living glory even after death, and how great was his confidence before God, than the eyes of the blind, the feet of the lame, and the hands of those who were maimed before his prayers -- of which those hands received the power to move, those feet to run, and those eyes to see, through him? And beyond these, the very coffin of his relics, which is known to be ^a fountain of ointment?

[85] But our discourse has carried us here, as some stream; but we must linger longer on his death, and treat of how he departed, and also speak more openly of the things that followed after it. After the great man saw that it was approaching, and knew that in three days he would be sent to the common Father in heaven, [He dies piously in the presence of three bishops, aged one hundred and five years.] having summoned only three bishops -- as though about to discuss some common matter with them (for he especially avoided ^a crowd and tumult) and also to show the number of days through them, namely that he would live no more than three -- having therefore summoned them, he greets them joyfully though they were sad, not weeping though they wept, himself cheerful though they were anxious in spirit, as was also fitting. For they were being deprived of him who was desired; but he was being led to Him whom he more desired. And they were grieving that they were losing their father, but he was departing to the tabernacles of the Father. He saw the end of the things that troubled him; they regarded his death as the beginning of troubles. Then, having raised his hands for prayer, and having gently moved his lips -- so as to leave those who stood by to think that he was speaking the words of his final departure to God -- and after prayer having laid them reverently upon his breast, he commended that noble soul, truly terrible and unconquerable to demons, into the hands of God, having lived in all one hundred and five years and ^a little more. And God immediately honored his death with ^a divine miracle. And it was this.

[86] A demoniac, not freed by him during his life, wails beside his dead body. A certain man named Stephanus, an Alexandrian by birth, who had long been vexed by ^a malignant spirit, and who had previously besought the great Theodosius to cure him and had therefore remained until his last breath, but had not obtained his request -- by some altogether more divine counsel, inasmuch as after the loosing of the bond and the departure of the blessed Father, the dismissal of the malignant spirit was also being reserved. This man, therefore, when he was near the bed that bore the now dead body -- for then he was of sound and composed mind, which caused him even greater pain, since he could consider what ^a wretched calamity he had fallen into, and that the sole hope of liberation he had was now taken from him as well, and that he would remain forever enduring this grievous tyranny, bearing the movement of the demon, those hidden assaults, horrible frenzy, and the unspeakable agitation, the miserable falls that arise from them, and the unspeakable ignominy among men -- when he turned these things over in his mind and rightly understood that there was henceforth no hope and no liberation left from them, his heart was struck with heavy grief, his vitals were set on fire, his soul was held by the most grievous mourning. What did he not say, what pitiful thing did he not do? Bitterly tearing his hair, beating his breast violently, wretchedly striking his forehead on the ground, uttering long and sharp wails, bathing his feet with tears, addressing the one who lay there as though he were alive: "He who alone was my hope," he said, "alone my savior, departs! He has left us given over to the demon! What refuge is there still? What expectation is there still? Now it is better to throw oneself upon ^a sword; now to enter fire, now the sea, and thus escape the insults of the demon."

[87] Weeping thus, the wretched man had thrown himself upon the bed, embraced the relics, He is freed. and preferred to be buried with him rather than to see the light while serving such ^a tyrant. What then does God, the worker of admirable things? The demon moves the man while he weeps, and having thrown him to the ground and torn him all to pieces in the sight of all -- as if to signify thereby his involuntary departure and how hostile he was to men and with how great ^a fury he raged against them -- he leaves him, or rather he is himself driven out, moved by ^a more divine scourge. Thus to him both while living and after death, earth yielded, and heaven, and sea, and air, and demons: earth from wild beasts, heaven from drought, the sea from perils, the air from locusts and grasshoppers, and the demons leaving men free from their blows. And there was nothing that did not thereafter testify to his virtue and his confidence before God.

[88] Bishops assemble for his burial. When the report had suddenly reached every place that the great Theodosius had now departed to his Lord, and the great miracle concerning the demoniac had been heard by not ^a few, that great Peter, who then held the Apostolic See at Jerusalem -- that Peter, I say, whose fame was great, but whose virtue surpassed his fame -- came with many other bishops to bury the relics. From every quarter also ^a multitude of monks gathered, and of common people as well. All were putting great effort into touching some part, They are long hindered by the multitude of people. either of his holy hair or of his sacred garment, or at least to simply approach and see that blessed face. And the contest over him was so great that the relics were not permitted to be buried for ^a long time; rather, it was thought better to forego the customary rites performed for the dead. But at last, with the multitude permitting, that venerable body, worthy of heaven, was with honor and splendor committed to the earth and covered -- not as something that ought to be hidden and concealed, but as something rather preserved for the pious, as wealth and treasure, to the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ, together with the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and always and unto ages of ages, Amen.