Three Dorothei

5 June · commentary

ON THE THREE HOLY DOROTHEI: THE THEBAN, THE ARCHIMANDRITE, AND THE YOUNGER.

PRELIMINARY COMMENTARY.

Dorotheus the Theban, in Egypt (S.)

BY THE AUTHOR C. J.

§ I. These three are distinguished from one another by reason of the time and place in which they lived.

[1] It was disputed a little before concerning St. Dorotheus, ascribed to the 5th of June in the Ecclesiastical tables, From the holy Dorothei, the Bishop of Tyre and the Presbyter of Antioch, whether he was the Bishop of Tyre, or only a Presbyter; the authors of these times making him, some a Bishop, others a Presbyter, most asserting there was only one Dorotheus. We, however, having examined and compared the older notices, judge that the one is to be distinguished into two, who lived at the same time of Diocletian; the one Bishop of Tyre, the other only Presbyter of Antioch; distinct from one another, although this Antiochene also dwelt at Tyre, having obtained some public office from Diocletian, to whom he was dear; as is said at greater length above in our Commentary on St. Dorotheus the Bishop. But we also distinguish there a third of the same name from these two, namely the author of the Booklet which contains the Lives of the Apostles and Disciples of Christ, and also from the author of the Synopsis, and which is generally entitled the Synopsis of Dorotheus. On which matter you may see more in the aforementioned Commentary, and in the Notes of the Roman Martyrology on the 5th of June. See also what I discussed at length concerning the ineptitude of the aforesaid Synopsis, in the Commentary on St. Metrophanes Bishop of Constantinople, on the day before this. Finally, from the three aforementioned, as well as from the three now to be appended, must necessarily be distinguished St. Dorotheus the Martyr, who suffered with St. Gorgonius at Nicomedia under Diocletian; concerning whom Eusebius in book 8, chapter 6, and the Roman Martyrology on the 9th of September; when we too shall treat of him, and shall clearly show him to be distinct from Dorotheus the Presbyter of Antioch, against Blondellus, who would have both to be one undistinguished person; deceived not only by the similarity of name, and from the Martyr Eunuch but chiefly because he read in Eusebius that both were Eunuchs, and both dear to Diocletian. But these things do not stand in the way of the distinction.

[2] Three other holy Dorothei are also distinguished; There could likewise be distinguished from the aforesaid several other Dorothei, and chiefly three, distinguished for integrity and holiness of life; were they not sufficiently distinct by the very time in which they lived. These Dorothei are: the first indeed the Theban, as he is called by Palladius in the Lausiac History, chapter 2. The second is the author of the Institutions or ascetic doctrines, and is surnamed the Archimandrite. The third finally, himself also an Archimandrite, is called the Younger (namely in respect to the one just mentioned), or "in Chiliocomus," from the place of his exercise, in which he both founded a monastery by divine command, and shone with the glory of holiness and miracles. The first, or the Theban, began to inhabit a cave in the 28th year of the 4th century, and was a contemporary of Dorotheus the Bishop of Tyre, of whom above; of whom the first was an old man in the year 388, and he was in the thirty-fourth year in his cave, when that Bishop received the crown of martyrdom under Julian, in the year of the common era 362; since indeed in the second consulate of Theodosius the Great, that is, in the year of the Christian era 388, the Theban was spending his 60th year in his cave, when Palladius was handed over to his discipline by Isidore the Presbyter, to be trained for three years in the monastic Life; as he himself testifies concerning himself in chapters 1 and 2 of the Lausiac history.

[3] By at least two whole centuries later than Dorotheus the Theban is the Archimandrite, whom those have undoubtedly confused with the Theban, the second, badly confused with the first, who would have him to have lived and written in the 4th century, in the Library of the ancient Fathers, edited at Cologne in the year 1618: as also Allegraeus confuses them in the Mirror of Carmelite glory; he doubts, however, whether they are distinct from each other; and if they are; he refers both to the year of Christ 400. Evagrius supplies us with surer foundations of Chronology, in his Ecclesiastical history, book 4, chapter 33, from the age of St. Barsanuphius in Evagrius where he speaks of Barsanuphius the Egyptian, who in a certain monastery near the town of Gaza performed very many miracles; and was believed (when Evagrius was writing in the year 594) to be still alive, shut up in a cell; although fifty and more years had now passed since he had neither been seen by anyone, nor tasted anything earthly. And when Eustochius, the Prelate of Jerusalem, believed these things to be false, and had ordered the little cell in which the man of God had shut himself up to be dug through, a fire leaping forth thence burned up almost all who were present. But take Evagrius' very text: "Barsanuphius, an Egyptian by race, lived a fleshless life in the flesh, in a certain monastery near the town of Gaza; so that he both worked many marvels beyond memory, and was believed even to be alive, shut up in a little house, although for fifty and more years he had neither been seen by anyone, nor had partaken of anything upon the earth. Doubting which, Eustochius the president of Jerusalem, when he resolved to dig through the little house, the man of God was not shut up there, and a fire leaping forth nearly burned up all those present." Nicephorus Callistus transcribed almost the same word for word in book 17, chapter 22, except that he puts Salustius for Eustochius, but wrongly: both because he contradicts Evagrius, who lived in the same century as the Patriarch Eustochius and the Emperor Justinian, and could have seen both, and so ought to be of the highest authority here; and because he contradicts himself, since he expressly asserts that Barsanuphius flourished under Justinian; and yet would have Salustius the Bishop of Jerusalem come to perforate the little house where the holy man was shut up: namely the man who, after the seventh year of his Episcopate, had died in the year of Christ 393, before Justinian took up the empire, fully 34 years.

[4] [It is more rightly established that he lived at the close of the 6th century than at its beginning;] Wherefore from Evagrius, writing in the 12th year of Tiberius, that is of Christ 594, as we said, it must be established; that Barsanuphius was born toward the end of the 5th century, and about the year 540 shut himself up in his cell; and there, lying hidden for fifty and more years, lived on to the times in which Evagrius was writing. And this chronology concerning St. Barsanuphius I think is to be preferred to that which our Predecessors followed for his life on the 11th of April, establishing that he died at the beginning of the 6th century. Now indeed Dorotheus the Archimandrite, according to the testimony of his disciple in the life of St. Dositheus, when he withdrew to the monastery of the Abbot Seridus, found there … two excellent great old men, the most holy Barsanuphius and Abbot John the Prophet. Dorotheus found Barsanuphius already an old man then, when he entered the monastery; so that the latter must already by then have been shut up in his cell for some time. Let us suppose, therefore, that he had been shut up twenty years, and that Dorotheus had been born just as many years before, when the latter embraced the monastic life: and it will follow from our earlier chronology, that Barsanuphius was then nearly seventy years old, so that he might rightly be called an old man; but that Dorotheus was brought into the light about the year 540: to whom if you give moreover sixty years of age, he must be said to have lived to the year of Christ six hundredth: if you should think anything beyond sixty years is to be added to his age, just as much must be added to the six hundredth of Christ. Nor do the letters of the Clergy of Apamea deter me from that opinion, the epistle of the Clergy of Apamea proving nothing to the contrary, which in the commentary on the Life of St. Barsanuphius, cited at number 4, seem to have moved its Illustrators. For although the Clergy of Apamea, in letters given to the Bishops of Syria, concerning the enormity of the excesses with which their Church was burdened by Peter, the heretical Bishop (which letters were produced in the first Session of the Council of Constantinople, and were written about the year 517) — although, I say, the Clergy of Apamea complain, among other things, that with armed bands of criminals he made an assault upon the monastery of St. Dorotheus; nevertheless it remains obscure of what St. Dorotheus they are here speaking. Nothing certainly compels us to understand our Archimandrite, the disciple of Barsanuphius, the Monk of Abbot Seridus, whose monastery is known to have been near Gaza; so that it may seem strange that he, when he departed thence, should have wished to seek for himself a new monastery near Apamea, nearly a hundred leagues distant from Gaza.

[5] Thus far, by reason of time, the Dorothei, the Theban and the Archimandrite, appear most distinct; who are confused by most; they will appear even more distinct, from the very Acts which we subjoin. Dorotheus the Younger lived at the beginning of the 11th century. Nor can there be any doubt that Dorotheus the Younger is different from them. For it is established that he lived far later than they (to say nothing of the epithet "Younger") from the age of the one who wrote his Life. This man indeed, as will be said in §3, flourished in the time of Constantine Monomachus, who held the empire about the middle of the 11th century: and he himself sufficiently indicates, as will be seen in §2, that he had been a Monk under Dorotheus: whence finally it is concluded that Dorotheus was among the living at the beginning of the 11th century.

[6] The Dorothei dwelt; the first near Alexandria. Now indeed their places of contest no less prove them to be different. The Theban indeed had his very near to Alexandria in a cave, and in it exercised himself for 60 years and more. For so Palladius testifies, when at the beginning of the Lausiac History he says that he was led by Isidore the Presbyter outside the Alexandrian city, to those that are called the eremitical Cells, about the fifth milestone from the city; and there was handed over to a certain Dorotheus, a Theban ascetic, then in his sixtieth year in a cave. the second near Gaza, Far from there did Dorotheus the Archimandrite begin the monastic life, namely in the monastery of Abbot Seridus, where he also for five years duly instructed Dositheus in ascetic discipline, and thence sent him to the heavenly ones: nor is it anywhere read that he hid himself in a cave: indeed neither could he hide himself, certainly he cannot have lain hidden for 60 years. For as long as he was a Monk with Abbot Seridus, he was applied by him to public duties: but after he acted separately as Archimandrite, he seems even less able to have lain hidden. For what has such a man to do with the solitude of a cave? which his frequent disciples scarcely allowed him to inhabit, whom he governed, and whom by his instructions and doctrines he repeatedly incited to virtue. Meanwhile, in what place the monastery was which the Archimandrite himself governed, is plainly unknown.

[7] the third near the Euxine Sea Finally Dorotheus the Younger, most remote both from Alexandria and from Gaza, inhabited the Euxine Sea, both before and after taking up the monastic state; inasmuch as he passed his youth at Trebizond in his native soil, but at Amisus in the monastery of Genna he spent a great part of the monastic life; thence he was transferred by divine prompting to a neighboring mountain, and was ordered there to raise up a new monastery from the ancient ruins; which the author of the life calls Chiliocomus, prefixing to it such a title, "Life and conduct of our holy Father Dorotheus the Younger, that is, of him who lived in Chiliocomus" (Allatius writes "Chiliocomus" in the Diatribe). And Chiliocomus is a place not very far distant from Amisus, a city of Pontus. For from Genna, having been sent somewhere on business by his Abbot, he does not seem to have made much of a journey, when, having suffered the ecstasies of which in the Life numbers 7 and 8, he was ordered to build up the monastery, or rather to restore the ancient one.

§ II. On their cult and Lives, and the authors of these, and why they are given in this place. Also on two other Dorothei, Abbots.

[8] It is not established that these Dorothei were publicly venerated, Concerning these three Dorothei, which you may wonder at, neither the Menaea or Synaxaria of the Greeks, nor the Calendars or Martyrologies of the Latins, hand anything down to us; so that it cannot be affirmed for certain that they ever had a public cult: although it may be presumed that the two Archimandrites had it (at least each in his own monastery) both on account of their known virtues, visions, miracles; and on account of the title of Saint, formerly attributed to each. The like must be said of the Theban, who himself also is read to have had his disciples, and is known to have led a life in the highest austerity; it is nevertheless probable on account of the title of Saint added to them. and who is also called a Saint by Palladius, and is referred among the Saints, with a compendium of his life, by Peter de Natalibus in the Catalogue of Saints, composed more than 300 years ago, but printed at Vicenza 200 years ago. Since these things are so; there seems to have prevailed some consensus of peoples concerning the holiness of those men, which in an ancient matter may suffice, that we too in this work may ascribe to them the same title of Saint.

[9] We shall give therefore their Acts, and those of the Theban indeed such as are described in the Lausiac history by Palladius, The Acts of the Theban are given from Palladius, an eyewitness, who, handed over to his discipline, observed his ways for some time, and inquired into his deeds: and these are the same very nearly as may be read in Sozomen book 6, chapter 29, and in Nicephorus book 11, chapter 35. The proper Acts of the Archimandrite have hitherto become known to no posterity: a few things are narrated about him in the Epistle and Prologue prefixed to the Institutions; those of the Archimandrite collected by us, more are read in the Life of St. Dositheus his disciple; very many things he himself relates about himself in the Institutions themselves, which he sets forth to his disciples as it were domestic examples to be imitated. From all these we have collected and put together his Life (in which this very thing is more distinctly noted), just as the deeds presented themselves, no order of time being kept; content to have set forth at last his illustrious exploits and the monuments of his virtues to posterity, now at length, under a single view.

Finally the Acts of Dorotheus the Younger, those of the Younger translated from the Greek: drawn into the light from the coffers of the Vatican library, we now for the first time render from Greek into Latin; and we give them printed in both languages, so that in future they may also be read by those who know Latin only, to whom hitherto they were altogether unknown.

[10] No author of these Acts is noted in the Vatican Manuscript: the author of these is John Metropolitan of Euchaïta yet he is noted by Allatius, in the Diatribe on the writings of the Simeons, as John Metropolitan of Euchaïta; which indeed he must have drawn from another Manuscript. Now that John wrote not a few other Lives of Saints; and he himself, if he be truly the author of this life, must have written it before his Episcopate and have been a Monk, and indeed on that very mountain, where Dorotheus by heavenly admonition built his monastery. For this he hints throughout in the Life, when he says at number 8: The Saint used to walk at the foot of this hill, which now has this his monastery on its summit. And at number 10: He approaches the place designated by the vision, previously a monk, who seems to have been his disciple. which is this very one, widely visible from the neighborhood, and now feeds many Monks. Finally at number 19, concerning the Saint already dead; He will be, he says, benevolent toward us all, who are still surviving, and dwell in this exercise-ground of training. It is probable, therefore, that that Author, by his writings and learning, perhaps also by his virtues and fame of holiness, became renowned among the Monks, and was therefore translated thence to the Archiepiscopal See of Euchaïta in the province of Helenopontus; whose Prelate is numbered among the autocephalous, who are of their own right, and subject to no Metropolitan.

[11] Receive therefore the Acts of these three holy men, by way of a Corollary, on this day rather Since the proper day lies hidden, than on any other; for the reason that the proper day on which they died lies altogether hidden. For what Peter de Natalibus says of the Theban; He rested in peace on the 5th of the Ides of September, he could not have drawn from the Lives of the Fathers, like the rest of his narrative: since nothing about the time of his death is mentioned in those Lives. We must take refuge, therefore, rather in the synonymy of the name of Dorotheus of Tyre, whose name is read ascribed to the Roman Martyrology on this 5th day of June; the Lives are given on this day on account of the synonymy. lest we either seem too little fair to those Saints, by altogether excluding them from this Work; or, desiring to follow their footsteps, defraud them of such excellent examples and instructions. Receive then their Acts, and in the first place indeed those of the Theban, brief, as they are: then those of the Archimandrite, longer, and, as we said, collected: finally those of the Younger in Greek and Latin; in that order namely in which they lived.

[12] It is pleasing, however, to prefix to them two notable examples of two Dorothei, who are different from all the others, and are referred to by Palladius in the Lausiac History, chapters 36 and 97. Both are called Abbots by him; both proved a marvelous virtue of temperance; But two other Dorothei are prefixed here, the one indeed, when he presided over a monastery of three hundred women, by a new art providing for his own integrity; the other indeed, when he had some quantity of money offered to him, by rejecting it with a noble mind. Both were contemporaries of Dorotheus the Theban. Concerning the first Dorotheus the Abbot, therefore; after he had narrated how Abbot Elias had built a great monastery, and there gathered all the virgins who were straying; and they, brought to the number of three hundred from diverse manners of life and private custom, fought among themselves continually; and Elias himself bore the care of them in all things: when, I say, he had narrated these things, he continues thus:

[13] Dorotheus succeeded Elias in the government of that monastery, a most approved man; who grew old in a good life, which consists in action. of whom the one by a new art for his chastity, He, since he could not indeed bear the care of the monastery as that Blessed one (namely Elias, who had divinely obtained the gift of chastity) nor had he stayed in that cell: shut himself up in the upper room in the very monastery; and made a window, which looked toward the monastery of the women, which he closed and opened. Perpetually therefore he sat by the window, taking care that the quarrels among them should cease. And thus he grew old in the upper room; since neither could anyone ascend up, nor could he descend: for there were no stairs standing. This is the religious life of the blessed Dorotheus, adorned with virtues; this the end of that life.

[14] Then concerning the other Dorotheus the Abbot, treating in chapter 97, when he had said, the other by a noble contempt provided for religious poverty. that around the city of Antinoë in the region of the Thebaid many anchorites had shut themselves up in the caves of the rocks, and among them Abbot Solomon had spent fifty years in a cave, he subjoins the following: There was also a certain Dorotheus, a Presbyter, dwelling in another cave; who himself also lived an unblemished life in the highest goodness, and was held worthy of the Presbyterate, and ministers to the Brothers who are in the caves. To him once Melania the younger, niece of the great Melania, sent five hundred solidi, asking him to minister to the Brothers. But he, having taken only three, sent the rest to Diocles the Anchorite, a man endowed with the highest knowledge, saying: There is a wiser Brother than I, Diocles, and he can dispense them wholly and innocently, as one who knows better than I those to whom help should rightly be brought: for these suffice for me. Now that this Dorotheus is different from the Theban, of whom presently, although both inhabited a cave; is clear even from the distance of the caves alone; for the former had his around Antinoë, the latter around Alexandria.

§ III. The author of the Life of Dorotheus the Younger: his writings and the Archiepiscopal see of Euchaïta are set forth and illustrated.

[15] I had written the preceding Paragraph, assigning from Allatius as the author of the Life of Dorotheus the Younger John Metropolitan of Euchaïta; John Metropolitan of Euchaïta, and I turned my whole mind every way, by which I might draw out from somewhere from the darkness something about that Author, and about the age in which he lived; intending easily then from this knowledge to define the age of Dorotheus the Younger. I go therefore to Allatius in the Diatribe on the writings of the Simeons; and I find repeatedly the name of the Author, and the beginnings of some of his monuments produced; but about his life and age nothing. I go to our Simon Wangnereck; in the Prolegomena to the Marian Piety of the Greeks; and I see at number 25 that John Euchaïta the Hymnographer was known to him, known to the Latins by name only, but that he had not yet found anything about his age or life, which he was confident he could prove to learned men. I go finally to Maracci in the Marian Library; but I observe that he is occupied no more happily in inquiring into the age of John than the two aforementioned. That glory was owed, namely, to the Library of the Most August Caesar Leopold, that thence should first come into the light, what the unwearied studies and labors of so many learned men long sought in vain.

[16] It becomes known more clearly from the Imperial Library. When therefore in the year 1688 we were spending the summer at Vienna, and often searched through the Library, ever open to us by the kindness of Caesar and the ready service of the most noble Lord Daniel de Nessel the court Librarian; we came also to the knowledge of a certain paper Codex, of not very ancient writing, which once, like many others, is learned to have belonged to the famous Sebastian Tengnagel from his own inscription, and contains the nearly sacred poems, 102 in number, of John alone, of whom we treat, the Euchaïte, composed in Iambic verse on various matters. At the front of the Codex this title is read, adorning the author with the praise of holiness: "A monument of our Father among the saints, John, Metropolitan of Euchaïta." Then it sets forth a compendium of his life, hitherto to the Latins (indeed even to the Greeks themselves almost) unknown, as we saw.

[17] "The Life. He lived under the Emperor of the Romans Constantine Monomachus, and Zoe the Empress. And the years from then amount to five hundred sixty-four. And being a most prudent and most holy man, he composed many of his discourses, and epistles and Iambic verses, and many other things worthy of word and grace, and educated many men, being filled with the grace of the all-holy Spirit." setting forth his age and a compendium of his life, The Life: John lived under the Roman Emperor Constantine Monomachus and the Empress Zoe. From then on the years extend to five hundred sixty-four (to the time, I think, in which that writer lived). But since he excelled especially in wisdom and holiness of life, he composed many orations, and epistles, and Iambic verses, and many other things, worthy to be praised and held welcome: he moreover piously educated many men, as one filled with the grace of the Holy Spirit.

[18] written by Andreas Darmarius, The writer of the aforesaid Codex is noted to have been a certain Andreas Darmarius the Epidaurian, whose same name is read inscribed on other Codices in the Imperial Library, and especially on the one hundred seventy-second among the Theological ones; where, with the name slightly changed, he is called at the end of the book "Andreas Tarmarus the Epidaurian": his age too is there indicated, by the year of Christ 1560 ascribed. Now this Andreas, as he was the writer of the aforesaid Codex, so he seems to have been the author of the appended Compendium of the Life, and indeed the first: for in reckoning in it the years which passed between Constantine Monomachus and his own age, he himself must either have written that compendium first or abridged it. That he nevertheless puts a somewhat greater number of years to have passed than the now-received chronology allows; may have happened from the lack of accurate knowledge of the time in which Monomachus reigned. He may also himself have written the Codex, of which we here chiefly treat, long after that one, to which he noted the year 1560. Certainly something must be conceded either to error, or ignorance, or carelessness. For from the death of Constantine Monomachus down to the year 1560, there elapsed only 506 years, while Andreas meanwhile puts 564 years. However it be with the meaning of the writer Andreas; in this at least he did not err, John lived under Constantine Monomachus; that he asserts that John Metropolitan of Euchaïta (whom I also read to be called Mauropous) lived under Constantine Monomachus. For this is drawn out from the writings of John himself; inasmuch as in three of his poems, namely the 74th, 87th, and 88th in the Imperial Codex, he treats of Constantine as living praiseworthily, and affirms that his image is preserved at Euchaïta.

[19] Thus far concerning the man himself, little known to the Latins. Now concerning his writings, even less known, his writings are reviewed it will be useful to treat briefly, and especially to indicate those which the Imperial Library supplies in Manuscript. There is there, in Codex 204 among the Theological ones, of John Metropolitan of Euchaïta: An Oration on the three holy Fathers Basil the Great, Gregory the Theologian or Nazianzen, and John Chrysostom. Codex 211, from which we have already drawn the compendium of the life, exhibits more than a hundred poems, mostly of sacred subject, composed in Iambic verse. from the Imperial Library Codex 299 contains his Little Works, namely the Paracletic Canons (which it is permitted to interpret as consolatory Songs) to our Lord and God Jesus Christ: and they are twenty-four in number, and each has its own Acrostic. It contains then two other similar Canons to our same Lord; and a third to the guardian Angel: of which the former are without, the latter with an Acrostic. There follow soon to our most holy Lady the Mother of God 67 Canons, and to St. John the Forerunner eleven Canons. Finally Codex 309 comprises some Canons to Christ, of which the first has prefixed such an acrostic, "First I bring my song to thee, Word of God, the monk John."

[20] And these four Codices are now of the Imperial Library, brought there by two men eminent in zeal and learning, Belgians by nation, Augerius Busbeck and Sebastian Tengnagel. And the two hundred eleventh indeed, with several others, Tengnagel brought there; but the other three, with more than two hundred others, Busbeck brought, having studiously sought out and procured them in Greece, when he was undertaking an embassy for the Most August Caesar Ferdinand I at Constantinople. But I shall do something worthwhile, if I add to these the title of the Canons to the Mother of God, of which in Codex 299, as it is there read, for recognizing the author himself more distinctly. "Paracletic Canons to our most holy Lady the Mother of God. A poem of John the monk, by the surname Mauropous or Black-foot, who in later times became Archbishop of Euchaïta; whose name too is inserted in the Acrostic of every ninth Ode." Paracletic Canons to our most holy Lady the Mother of God. A poem of John the Monk, surnamed Mauropous or Black-foot, who in his last times became Archbishop of Euchaïta; whose name too is inserted in the Acrostic of every ninth Ode.

[21] There can be added to the cited writings of the Euchaïte those which Allatius notes in the Diatribe on the Simeons, and the Diatribe of Allatius. producing the beginning and title of each in Greek; namely, Orations on the feast of the holy Angels. On the holy Dormition of the most holy Mother of God. On the memory of the holy Great-Martyr Theodore. On the memory of the holy Martyr Theodore the Recruit, or "on the flowering." On the memory of the holy Martyr Theodore, or "of the Foot-soldier." On the three holy Prelates Basil, Chrysostom, and Gregory: likewise another oration on the same, of which the former is the same as the one cited from the Imperial library, the latter different from it. Besides these, orations on the memory of the holy martyr Eusebia at Euchaïta. On the memory of the great Triumpher after the celebrated three days of Easter. On the day of the memory of the great Triumpher, and on a miracle recently done among the barbarians. Finally the Life, which we set forth below, of our holy Father Dorotheus the Younger, or "of him in Chiliocomus." And let it suffice to have noted these his writings, indicated by Allatius; like the foregoing, contained in the Imperial Codices. We desire, however, that it be indicated to the Reader who loves the glory of the Saints, that the aforesaid orations of the Metropolitan, on St. Eusebia, and on both Theodores, are greatly wanting to us.

[22] But indeed it pleases Lambeck to raise a grammatical question too, Is "Euchaïta" to be declined in the singular number or the plural? whether it should be said "Euchaïtarum" or "Euchaïtorum"? and he judges that, from the Greek termination, the latter manner of speaking is to be preferred to the former. But I have thought nothing should be changed in the locution already received among the Latins; and I have preferred to call John the Bishop "of Euchaïta" (Euchaitarum) rather than "of Euchaïta" (Euchaitorum); especially since, in addition to the usage of the Latins, even the authority of the Greeks, who often inflect the same name by their second declension (although more often by the third). For I read in the printed Menaea, on the 8th day of February, it is shown that both are possible: "in Euchaïta" (en tais Euchaïtais), and on the 8th of June "in Euchaïta" (en Euchaïta). Likewise in the Manuscript Menology of the Emperor Basil, narrating on the 8th day of June about St. Theodore, that his Relics were deposited "in Euchaïta near Euchaïta" (en Euchaïa plēsion Euchaïtōn). Add Zonaras, writing in the matter of John Zimisces, "in the region of Euchania or Euchaïta." Cedrenus too, in the same Zimisces, calls the same place "Euchaneia." Why then should not the same word "Euchaïta" be under one termination of the singular as well as the plural number, and be inflected by the first as well as the second declension of the Latins; just as it is known to be done in the names of cities Solyma, Gangra, and others. What also forbids saying that the word "Euchaïta" in the singular number, or even taken as a gentile name. is the gentile name of a people, inhabiting the city of Euchaïta; just as from cities not very far removed from Euchaïta are derived these gentile names, Cypasita, Zelita, Berita; to say nothing of the more remote, Ascalonita, Bethlehemita, and six hundred others? Of this opinion certainly was someone in our Manuscripts, who writes "in Euchaïta" (en tois Euchaitais). But these things must be left to the Grammarians. Let us investigate more closely the city Euchaïta itself and its situation.

[23] It is an ancient Episcopal city That there was an ancient Episcopate at Euchaïta, and that it was certainly subject to a Metropolitan, we learn from the Nilian Charter, as they call it, very ancient, in Labbé tome 2 of the Councils, column 55, where among other Bishops who were present at the first Council of Nicaea, there is also numbered "Epiphanius, unworthy Bishop of the city of Euchaïta, of the province of the Eleliotae, having defined, I subscribed": Epiphanius, unworthy Bishop of the city of Euchaïta, of the province of the Eleliotae, defining, I subscribed. But what the province of the Eleliotae is, or where, I have not yet been able to ascertain, unless you will have it so written by error, for "of the Helenopontines," thereafter made autocephalous, of Helenopontus, as another Euchaïtan Bishop Epiphanius likewise subscribed in the third Council of Constantinople of Labbé's collection, tomes 6 and 4. In the course of time that same city became more renowned, and was made, as we said, Archiepiscopal; and in Charles of St. Paul, in two tables of ancient notices, it is numbered among the Autocephalous, which are of their own right, and subject to no Metropolitan, and in both places it is placed in the province of Helenopontus. Hence one may gather that Ferrarius greatly erred, in the New Topography to the Roman Martyrology, most remote from Heraclea, when, describing Heraclea Pontica, he makes Euchaïta a city next to it. For Heraclea, situated in the province of Honorias, and indeed in its most remote part, is separated from Euchaïta not only by the whole extent of its own province, broad as it is; but also by Paphlagonia, which lies between Honorias and Helenopontus. Truer things are had by the Manuscript Latin Acts of the martyrdom of St. Theodore the Recruit, of which we have four copies, drawn from various Libraries; and they all unanimously say that the noble matron Eusebia transferred the body of the holy Martyr into her own possession, which is distant from the city of Amasia by a journey of one day, but near to Amasia; to a place which is called Euchaïta. Amasia lies in the extreme eastern part of Helenopontus by the river Iris: hence therefore if, going to any other region whatever of this same province by a journey of one day, you are compelled to stop in the evening, you would arrive between the aforesaid rivers Iris and Halys; and so between the same you may also place Euchaïta.

[24] The Greek Manuscript Life of St. Barbara, which we recently drew out from the Imperial Library, would also bring clearer light to these, if the boundaries of the distance were better known. That Life has at the beginning: "There was in the Eastern region, called Heliopolis, a certain man, dwelling in a place named Gelaseis, about twelve miles distant from Euchaïta." There was in the Eastern region, and nearer to Gelaseis and Heliopolis: which is called Heliopolis, a certain man, dwelling in a place named Gelaseis, about 12 miles distant from Euchaïta. It has again at the end, where it treats of the burial of SS. Barbara and Juliana, whose sacred bodies Valentinus, carefully committing to burial, placed in a place which is called Heliopolis, near an island in the village of Gelaseis, in a venerable dwelling, about 12 miles from Euchaïta. The Greek is: "Valentinus, carefully burying their precious relics, deposited them in a place called Heliopolis, near the island in the village of Gelaseis, in a holy dwelling, about twelve miles from Euchaïta." We have here Euchaïta, we have Gelaseis, we have Heliopolis: but the situation of these uncertain, but the situation of all is uncertain, so that none of them can be determined from the others. Heliopolis indeed is very well known and very various; but none which seems able to make for this purpose has hitherto become known. The one which can be nearest, is placed by Ortelius, from Michael Glycas, in Phrygia; but this (whether you understand the lesser or the greater) how far it is distant from Helenopontus and Amasia.

[25] Euchaïta moreover held its name down to the reign of John Zimisces, who in the year 969 was created Emperor. The chief glory of his Empire was the victory which he won over the Russians on the day sacred to St. Theodore the General, the same Saint favoring, and seen by many on a horse defending the Romans, and throwing into confusion the phalanxes of the barbarians, as Zonaras testifies. Wherefore the Emperor, the same called Theodoropolis, in order to render thanks to the Martyr for the service rendered, built him a most elegant temple at Euchania or Euchaïta, the old one having been destroyed; in which his body, having ended many contests, had been placed; and the city, the old name being abolished, he called Theodoropolis. This appellation, however, did not so abolish the old name that it was not also afterward in some use for at least a whole century, namely down to the times of John Mauropous, whom we saw above to be inscribed everywhere as Metropolitan of Euchaïta.

[26] Nor indeed was the city of Euchaïta honored only with the Relics of the Theodore the General and Martyr just mentioned, adorned with Relics, (whom it had itself first brought into the light, then after his glorious death received his sacred body, and preserved it with honor in a temple built to his name) but also with the Relics and temple of the other Theodore the Soldier, commonly called the Recruit, crowned with martyrdom a little before that one; and it propagated the fame of the miracles wrought in it so widely, that it too came to be among the more celebrated places, to which Christian piety was wont to go on pilgrimage. This is attested by the example of John the Anchorite in Moschus, in the Spiritual Meadow chapter 180, enumerating the celebrated places, to which this man used to go from Palestine by a fairly long journey, now indeed to Ephesus to St. John, frequented by pilgrimages. now to Euchaïta to St. Theodore, now to St. Thecla in Seleucia of Isauria, now to St. Sergius in Saraphas. Adorned therefore with such Saints, decorated with such temples, frequented with such pilgrimages, Euchaïta may have deserved to be erected into an Archiepiscopal see, and to be governed by an autocephalous Prelate.

LIFE OF ST. DOROTHEUS THE THEBAN,

By the author Palladius, Bishop of Helenopolis, an eyewitness.

From the Lives of the Fathers, book 8.

Dorotheus the Theban, in Egypt (S.)

[1] Isidore the Presbyter and Keeper of the Guest-house, when I had come to him as a young man (Palladius speaks of himself) and was asking, Palladius brought to Dorotheus, to be enrolled for the monastic life, my age still being wanton, and not having need of words, but of labors which might subdue the flesh, and of a hard and harsh manner of living which might restrain the body; Isidore, I say, like a good tamer of colts, led me outside the city, to those that are called the eremitical Cells, about the fifth milestone from the city; and handed me over to a certain Dorotheus, a Theban ascetic, then in his sixtieth year in a cave; and ordered me to complete three years with him, for the taming of the disturbances of the soul (for he knew that the old man led a very hard and harsh life) and after I should have completed the number of years, for the taming of the disturbances of the soul, he commanded that I should again return to him, for the remaining spiritual doctrine. But since I could not complete with him the number of three years, because I had fallen into a severe illness, I departed from him before the appointed time. For his manner of life was by far the harshest, squalid and utterly arid.

[2] For the whole day, and indeed in the very heat of midday, he marvels at his endurance of labors, in the solitude which is by the sea, he gathered stones, and always building from them and making cells, he yielded them to those who could not build, each year making a cell. But when I had once said to this Saint: What are you doing, Father, in such old age killing your poor little body with intolerable heats? He answered me, saying: It kills me, I too will kill it. And he ate each day six ounces of bread, and a little bundle of small herbs: and his food but of water he drank a little. And I call God to witness, that I never knew him stretching out his feet, nor sleeping on purpose on a couch or upon a bed: but sitting through the whole night, and the sparingness of his sleep, he wove rope from the branches of palms, that from it he might prepare his food. But when I suspected that he used such extreme exercise only while I was present; I inquired, that I might know whether he used it perpetually, I asked of several of his disciples, observed by the old man from his youth who themselves also remained afterward apart, bearing themselves rightly and virtuously. These told me, that from his youth he so ordered his life, never sleeping on purpose; except that while working or eating he sometimes closed his cast-down eyes; so that often even the bread fell from his mouth at the time of eating, on account of his excessive drowsiness.

[3] who, water infected by an asp But when I once compelled this Saint to lie down a little upon a mat, taking it ill he said to me: If you ever persuade the Angels to sleep, then you will also persuade one zealous for virtue. And on a certain day he sent me to his well, to fill the jar, which he used at the meal, when the hour of taking food was at hand. But it happened that when I had approached, I saw down in the well an asp, and out of fear I would by no means draw the water; but running back I announced it to him, saying: We are perished, Abba; for I saw an asp below in the well. But he, smiling graciously (since he had great regard for me) and shaking his head, said: signs it with the sign of the cross and drinks it unharmed. If it should seem good to the devil to cast serpents and asps into every well, or tortoises and other poisonous animals into all the fountains of waters; will you remain never drinking? And he himself, going out of the cell, when he had drawn it by himself, drank fasting, having first fortified the water with the sign of the Cross, and having said: Where the Cross is present, there the wickedness of the devil is without strength.

LIFE OF ST. DOROTHEUS THE ARCHIMANDRITE

Collected from various sources, especially his own writings.

Dorotheus the Theban, in Egypt (S.)

BY THE AUTHOR C. J.

CHAPTER I.

His holiness and writings, a compendium of his life, his literary studies.

[1] The order of things to be set forth in this chapter 1. About to collect the deeds of St. Dorotheus the Archimandrite, concerning whom in the preliminary Commentary several things have been said, we set forth first in this Chapter a compendium of his whole life, praiseworthily related in an Epistle to a Brother, who had requested that the discovered Sermons or ascetic Institutions of St. Dorotheus be sent to him, given by their discoverer, a disciple (as is gathered from the context) of the Saint himself. We prefix, however, to that Epistle a Prologue, on St. Dorotheus and his Institutions, of an ancient Author and probably a Studite Monk; which exhibits concerning his holiness and the integrity of his doctrine the most weighty testimony of two ancient Fathers, most distinguished alike in letters and piety, SS. Theodore the Studite and Tarasius Patriarch of Constantinople, distinguishing our Dorotheus from another of the same name, infected with the errors of Severus; and calling him orthodox, approved, holy. We subjoin moreover to the aforesaid Epistle, from Institution X, some specimen of his youth, most devoted to literary studies, before he turned his mind to the monastic institute. The Prologue therefore to be prefixed runs thus:

[2] It must be known, that there were two Dorothei and two Barsanuphii: our Dorotheus, distinct from the other, an impious follower of Severus, and those indeed infected with the errors of Severus; but these embracing right doctrine and a perfect manner of life, who are also contained in the present book (namely of the Institutions, from which we have especially woven together the Life of St. Dorotheus). Wherefore we ought to admit even this book, handing down the precepts of virtue and most useful to the soul, as a work truly of Dorotheus, orthodox and conspicuous among the Fathers; since it is not of that unfaithful and perverse one. Just as also our Father and Confessor of Christ Theodore, the most wise moderator of the Studite monastery, in his Testament to his disciples, rightly taught. Who, after he declared the sense of his Faith, and condemned with anathema all the atheist heretics to a man, thus moreover subjoins.

[3] And the whole book both of the old and the new Testament divinely inspired; and besides, the lives and divine writings of all the holy God-speaking Fathers and Doctors and Ascetics I accept. This I have said, on account of the openly pernicious Pamphilus, who, coming from the east, calumniated those holy men, Mark, Isaiah, Barsanuphius, Dorotheus, and Hesychius. Nor indeed do I, he is praised in the testament of St. Theodore the Studite, when I name Barsanuphius, Isaiah, Dorotheus, understand those defenders of the Acephali, who themselves also were beheaded, or the sworn associates of the Decacerati or Ten-horned, who were fixed by St. Sophronius with the tablet of anathema: but others, namely those above named, different from these; whom I, approved by the examination of the most holy Patriarch Tarasius, long since exercising the supreme Priesthood, and by the testimony of other men worthy of faith, both natives and easterners, embrace from the paternal tradition.

[4] Wherefore since in their doctrine our great Parent Theodore detected no impiety, but on the contrary rather a great support of souls; behold, with certain limits he distinguished the opinion of each Dorotheus, and approved the doctrine which is contained in this book as most useful; just as in truth it is exceedingly useful to the soul: to whose rule if anyone exactly directs his life, and his doctrines are approved as most useful. he will easily arrive at the perfect measure of Christian virtue; which obtained, he will be adorned with the crown of freedom from passions, and together with the Saints will attain eternal life. Thus far the Prologue, in which St. Theodore the Studite, by the testimony not only of St. Tarasius the Patriarch, but also of others both natives or Constantinopolitans, and easterners, and by the tradition of the elders, stands for our Dorotheus and his doctrine against the follower of Severus.

[5] Now indeed the Epistle of the discoverer of the Institutions, to the Brother desiring them, runs thus: I praise your purpose, most desired Brother; but for your zeal for the good I proclaim truly blessed your blessed and beauty-loving soul. For to scrutinize so studiously, to praise so sincerely our Father truly blessed and worthy of God, who has his name from the gift of God; this surely is to praise virtue, according to which he became so blessed, and loved God, and bore the care of the true life. He is commended for the imitation of Christ, For praise, as Blessed Gregory says, excites emulation, but emulation virtue, and virtue finally brings blessedness. We must therefore rejoice together and truly congratulate this so great advancement of yours: for you have seemed to tread the footsteps of him who is the imitator truly of the Meek and Humble of heart; who, considering the spiritual abnegation of Peter and his followers, so stripped himself of all affection for visible things, so resigned himself to his Fathers according to God, that he too with confidence (which I rightly know) could say to the Savior: Behold we have left all things, and have followed thee.

[6] Whence with the help of God being perfected in a short time, he filled out long times; not indeed dwelling in sensible solitudes and mountains, nor reckoning it a great thing to command carnivorous beasts; from the abnegation of self, but embracing the solitude of the soul, and desiring to approach the eternal mountains wondrously shining, and to trample the heads of serpents and scorpions that slay souls. Which he also in a short time deserved to attain by the help of Christ, through the athletic slaying of his own will, which showed him beforehand the way of the Fathers, free from error; and revealed the light burden of blessedness, and the salutary and truly sweet yoke. Whence he learned the best way of loftiness, humility, and that which is said, Be merciful and meek, from humility, receiving in deed the word of the holy elders. Adorned with all these virtues, that Blessed one always bore in his mouth what he had received from the holy elders: namely that whoever should studiously strive to cut off his own will, would arrive at the place of rest. For when he found what he had diligently sought, that the root of all disturbances is the love of one's own self, cleaving to our somewhat bitter will; from the eradicated self-love, using this efficacious medicine, he wholly wasted away the root together with the evil shoots, and became a genuine cultivator of incorruptible fruits, and also produced the fruits of true life; possessing the treasure hidden in the field, duly sought by him and found; and enriched with goods never to be emptied.

[7] I would indeed wish to be sufficiently fit, who could with mind and tongue set forth one by one the life of this holy man, from his prudence in acting, for the common benefit of all and as a most perfect exemplar of virtue. Likewise in what manner that Blessed one ran through the narrow and the broad and altogether admirable way, and that without error and dissipation, guarding against headlong transgression in either direction: for thus the friend of God and truly great Basil defines the narrowness of the afflicted and salutary way. The other he held through mortification, and toward those who led him to God liberty, and especially through the height of humility, which alone, according to the great Antony, is superior to all the snares of the devil; from his skill in applying profane sayings to sacred matters. wherefore by him too was most truly fulfilled that: Thy commandment is exceeding broad. But this I will pass over as impossible: for I know that to the rest of this Blessed one's goods belong also those things, which of the external Philosophers are said, that he approached; which, like a truly wise bee, he gathered in his anthology, and, as use bore, diligently interwove according to the opportunity of his doctrine; such as that: Nothing in excess: Know thyself: and the like, to which not so much my prudent purpose, as the necessity of impossibility, as has been said, compels me. Ps. 118:96

[8] Moreover, what your diligent and most adorned soul commanded me, this now confidently I have done, His Institutions are sent to him who asked them. both holding suspect the gravity of disobedience, and fearing the punishment of sloth. And now together with these present letters of mine I have sent to you, prudent money-changers of God, the talent which lay idle with me: namely the discovered Institutions of Blessed Dorotheus, which he himself was worthy to receive from his elders, and handed down to his own disciples, doing and teaching, like our first and true Teacher and Savior. But although we have not been able to find all his sermons, but only very few, and those collected here and there by certain zealous men by the providence of God: nevertheless it will be enough, to have set forth to your dexterity even this brevity, according to that: Give to the wise man an occasion, and he will be wiser. Prov. 9:9

[9] Thus far the edition of Corderius, from whose version we give here all the rest. What follows he himself omits, because it is absent from the Greek context: but since nevertheless in the Library of the Fathers and elsewhere it is read added to the former, I think it worthwhile to transcribe the same here, although not aptly enough cohering with the foregoing; lest we seem of our own accord to have omitted anything which makes for the praise of the Saint. The Library, edited at Cologne, therefore continues: For what the purpose of the holy man was, so addicted to the monastic conversation; what a fitting and accommodated life he chose, I recall in my mind. And from this indeed the highest obedience of his soul toward his Fathers, his pure renunciation, the simplicity of his conscience, A compendium of his virtues, his zeal and diligence, and all things founded in knowledge. From this the constancy of his faith, his charity, and his perfection. Toward his fellow-brothers, his associates, he was affable and modest, alert, kindly, clement even when he presided; not suspicious, not lazy, not idle, not stubborn, not contentious; which are the strengths of judging no one and assuming nothing. Concord too and unanimity, sweeter than honey, he always fostered: but indeed toward works he was zealous, diligent, prudent, attentive, mild, with all probity an example of good morals; and toward the conduct of affairs accurate and a venerable lover of beauty; doing nothing wrongly, surpassing all by a certain divine genius and discretion; in all things humble, grateful, strong and constant, sober and solicitous and thoughtful.

[10] But what need is there to run through them one by one? I seem about to do something like him who would wish to diminish either the drops of a dripping or the waves of the sea. But it is fair, not to exceed the goal which I had set, and to leave to you too some part of this sweet inquiry; he is set forth to others as an example. that you may equally enjoy these delights with me, and may learn by what way here, by holiness, by urbanity, into divine doctrine and the salvation of souls he was so led by Him who governs all things and disposes by providence. A compassionate, I say, and benevolent father, most worthy to instruct and enlighten souls; great in intellect, greater in obedience; sublime in contemplation, more sublime in humility; rich in God, poor in spirit; sweet in eloquence, sweeter in encounter; a learned physician for whatever disease you wish; who took away sickness from rich and beggars; from the wise and the unwise; from women, men; old, younger; afflicted, joyful; strangers, his own kindred; the lonely, those in command; lords, servants; subjects, free men: imparting to all men as a talent that holy and various and innumerable stewardship, and made all things to all, and thus winning very many. But now it is the hour, most loving one, that I set the table of the sweetest discourse; of which every single part, and even the smallest saying, brings no small advantage and utility. For that man was of truly divine and admirable eloquence: but he wished to creep along in humble and plain speech, for the sake of an example of humility; and he everywhere preferred unadorned speech to polished. You therefore be nourished with this sincere zeal and the fruit of blessedness; be fed with such provision and food; approach the holy urbanity which you have long desired, and earnestly pray for my weakness.

[11] Thus far that Brother with the Latin appendix, as clearly, A longer Life is desired as concisely, concerning the Saint, whose deeds, at least many of them, he asserts that he knew and rightly knew. Would that the same (which he himself also wishes) had set forth one by one the whole life of the holy man, for the common benefit of all and as a most perfect exemplar of virtue! But since this was not done by him: let us bestow our effort, and let us gather the few little flowers of his virtues, scattered through the little garden of the ascetic Institutions, and compose from them a little bundle, which may draw after itself more Ascetics by its fragrance. That composition will have the greater authority, and it is given collected from his writings. because the Saint himself everywhere gives testimony about himself, and on account of his humility rather diminishes his virtues than extols them. Some things, however, to be set forth in the next chapter, the Author of the Life of St. Dositheus will also supply, most approved and contemporary, if not of Dositheus himself, certainly of his master Dorotheus, who died long after his disciple.

[12] But since almost all the rest pertain to the monastic life of Dorotheus, let us in this very chapter give a foretaste of some specimen of his youth; and let us see with what fervor, In his youth, most astonishing indeed, he was carried away and applied himself to literary studies. In Institution X, wishing to show that he who strives toward virtue ought at the beginning to do violence to himself, thus little by little making progress, and at last acting with tranquility; he sets forth to his disciples an example and his own experience, speaking thus: studies which at first he dreaded When I was free for the letters of external discipline, at the beginning I labored greatly; and when I began to take up a book, I was no otherwise than someone who approaches to touch a wild beast. As therefore I persevered in doing violence to myself; God helped me, and I contracted such a habit of studying, that I did not even know what I ate, or what I drank, so that he afterward loved them, that he forgot food, sleep, companions, or how I slept, on account of the ardor of my studies. Nor was any of my friends ever able to entice me to a meal: but neither did I ever at the time of reading approach to his company, however much I was a lover of society and loved my companions.

[13] When therefore the Sophist had dismissed us, and I had washed myself (for I needed daily washing, since on account of the excessive assiduity of my readings I was being dried up) I withdrew to my lodging, not knowing what I should eat: for I could not be free even for preparing food. I had, however, a certain faithful friend, who prepared for me whatever I wished. I took therefore whatever I found prepared by him; and everywhere he had his book with him. having also my book on my left on the cot, and little by little I leaned upon it; and when I slept, I likewise had it in my seat; and when I had taken a little sleep, I leapt up at once to reading. Again in the evening, when I withdrew to the light of the lamp, I lit the lamp, and until midnight applied myself to reading; and I was so disposed, that from no other thing, except from readings, did I take pleasure. When therefore I came to the monastery, I kept saying to myself: If anyone has such affection for external eloquence and such ardor for reading, that he attains the habit of knowledge; how much more must one labor for virtue? And from this matter I took great strength. Now let us give, plucked from the Life of St. Dositheus, those things which make for our Dorotheus.

CHAPTER II.

The deeds of Dorotheus concerning Dositheus his disciple.

[14] But Blessed Abbot Dorotheus, having embraced the solitary life with God's help, enters the Monastery of Abbot Seridus withdrew to the monastery of Abbot Seridus, where he found certain great and several men given to quiet; among whom were two excellent great old men, namely the most holy Barsanuphius, and his disciple or fellow-trainer, Abbot John; under the discipline of St. Barsanuphius, who, on account of the grace of foreseeing the future which he had, was surnamed the Prophet. To whom when he had handed himself over to be formed with all confidence; he spoke indeed to the great old man through the holy Abbot Seridus; but to Abbot John the Prophet he even deserved to be of service; as he himself also boasts below, that he was judged worthy of such ministry. But the Author of the Life of St. Dositheus continues.

[15] While Blessed Abbot Dorotheus was still staying in the monastery of Abbot Seridus, where he builds an infirmary for the Brothers and was perfecting the contest of Christian obedience; the holy old men decreed, that in that place he should build an infirmary, and have care of it. For if ever the Brothers were sick, they were greatly afflicted, because they had no one to take care of them. He built therefore, with God's help, an infirmary, his own brother according to the flesh supplying the expenses for him: for the man was, his brother according to the flesh supplying the expense, exceedingly loving of Christ and a singular friend of monks. Now Abbot Dorotheus himself, as I said, together with certain other pious and religious Brothers had care of the sick; inasmuch as to him the dispensation of this kind of administration had been entrusted.

[16] On a certain day therefore the aforesaid Abbot Seridus summoned him: to whom when he had come, he found a certain youth, A youth, wishing to enter the monastery, clad in a military cloak, most delicate and likewise most handsome. He then by chance had come to the monastery, together with certain friends, who were of the palace of the Duke. As therefore Dorotheus approached, Abbot Seridus takes him apart, and says to him: These men have brought this young man, saying that he wishes to dwell here in the monastery: and I fear lest perhaps he be the son of some of those great ones, who has either stolen something, or done some evil and wishes to flee; and we be exposed to danger: for neither his habit nor his appearance is that of anyone who desires to profess the monastic life…

[17] Then the Abbot sent St. Dorotheus, to speak to the youth, and examine him. But he knew how to answer nothing else, than, I wish to be saved. Returning therefore Dorotheus reports to the Abbot; he is ordered to examine and receive him, If you have altogether decreed to admit him, there is nothing for you to fear; for he has no vice. The Abbot says to him: Do charity therefore, and take him with you, that he may be saved: for I do not wish him to dwell among the Brothers. But he himself out of modesty earnestly refused this, saying; that it was neither of his state nor of his measure to take upon himself such a burden. To whom the Abbot: I, he says, bear both your burden and his: why are you afflicted? Then Blessed Dorotheus says to him; Since therefore you have altogether decreed this, set it forth to the old man (Barsanuphius) if it seems good to you. Good, he says, I will set it forth to him. He goes therefore and reports the matter to the old man. Then the old man declares to him, that he should so receive him; and called Dositheus

For through you, he says, God will save him. Then he received him with joy, and kept him with himself in the infirmary, and called him Dositheus.

[18] No small praise of Dorotheus, this man was his disciple, whom in a short space of time he formed in every kind of virtue. he excellently teaches temperance, And first indeed he taught temperance in eating; and diminishing little by little the portion of bread, he led the young man to such temperance, that he who at the beginning ate one loaf of four pounds, and another half of the same weight, at last was content with eight ounces. In the works of charity moreover he exercised him excellently in the infirmary of the Brothers; and if ever by a little word he had perhaps offended somewhat against another, charity, sweetly and strongly he corrected and encouraged him as he grieved over his fault. For when he had once found him sitting on the ground and weeping, he says to him: What is the matter with you, Dositheus? what have you? why do you weep? To whom he; Forgive me, Lord, for I was angry, and spoke ill to my Brother. meekness; And he said to him: Do you thus get angry, Dositheus? Are you thus not ashamed, being angry, even to speak ill to your Brother? Do you not know that he is Christ, and that you afflict Christ? And when he continued to weep abundantly, he said: God spare you; rise, let us only begin, and apply diligence; and God will bring help.

[19] He knew also most dexterously to repress vainglory in his disciple from occasion. but he unteaches vainglory For, as Dositheus was of a most open conscience, when he had excellently made up the beds of the sick, he addressed Dorotheus passing by there, saying: Lord, Lord, my thought says to me; You make up the beds elegantly. To whom Dorotheus, beating down that little vainglory; Wow! Lord: behold you have become a good servant, a distinguished chamberlain; but you have not turned out a good Monk. At another time he was immoderately attached to a certain little knife, and desiring to keep it in the infirmary, he asked the holy Master that it be permitted to him, praising the knife, from the fact that it cut bread excellently, and was fit for preparing morsels. But Dorotheus, sniffing out the vainglory and excessive affection of Dositheus toward the knife; and immoderate affection toward earthly things. ordered it to be brought to him: and contemplating its elegance; Thus, he says, Dositheus, does it please you? Do you wish to be a servant of this knife, and not a servant of God? Does it thus please you, that you be bound by affection for this knife? And are you not ashamed to wish that this knife should rather rule you, than God? Go, lay down this knife, nor touch it.

[20] But as Dorotheus esteemed no virtue in a Monk more than obedience; He exercises him especially in Obedience. above all he wished his disciple to excel in it; and among other trials of him he once took this. If ever Dositheus needed a garment, Dorotheus supplied him with what to make it from: and when he had gone away and sewn the garment with great elegance, he called him, saying; Dositheus, have you sewn that garment? And he answering; Yes, Lord, I have made it up rightly and elegantly: exercising his obedience, he said: Go, give it to this Brother, or to this sick man. Then again he handed him another garment: which when he had again elegantly patched and made up, he likewise said to him; Hand it over to this Brother. And immediately he handed it over, nor was he ever afflicted or murmured, saying; After I have labored patching and making up some garment, he took it from me and gives it to another; but whatever good thing he heard, that he executed with great promptness. Happy disciple, that he obtained such a master, who so prudently in his time and place knew how to exercise his own!

[21] If ever he judged there was need of some chastisement, that the disciple might persist in humility; he preferred that it be inflicted through the Abbot rather than through himself, lest perhaps the mind of the chastised be thence alienated, and in humility, and place less confidence in his master. Thus, asked by Dositheus about some passage of sacred Scripture, because he did not wish him to be occupied in such things, but rather to be preserved in humility, he answered, that he did not know. But he a little after asks again about another passage: to whom again he answered; I do not know, but go, ask the Abbot. He went at once, obeying the word. But Blessed Dorotheus had already foretold so that he might even bear blows gladly. to the Abbot apart; If Dositheus comes to you, to ask something Scriptural, beat him a little. When therefore he had come and asked; the Abbot began to reprehend him, and at last dismissing him, gave him two slaps, and he brought back from it a great fruit of humility and patience. For returning eagerly to Dorotheus, showing him his cheeks red from the slaps, he said: See, I still have them firm and solid.

[22] To the same as he was sick Nearly five years had Dositheus spent under the discipline of Dorotheus, when he departed from the living; and adorned with such an ornament of virtues, the disciple flew before his master into heaven; after he had received from him no smaller signs of paternal charity in adverse health; than of a careful and solicitous instructor in good health. For Dorotheus was frequently present to him as he lay sick, and would gladly have brought some remedy. And when the sick man had begged that soft-boiled eggs not be given him; he expressed the tender affection of his soul; Rightly, he said, since you do not wish it, I will not give them to you; only do not be troubled. But he took pains to give him instead of eggs other things, which were conducive to health. But as the disease grew worse and worse, he repeatedly admonished the sick man to pray, and asked; Dositheus, how is your prayer? Does it still hold firm? To whom he, when he had often answered; Well, Lord, pray for me: solicitous, he shows great charity: it holds firm through your prayers: at last replied; Forgive me, Lord, I can no longer apply myself to prayer. And Dorotheus; Leave it then; and only be mindful of God, and consider him present to you. Meanwhile he beheld him laboring; and was anxious, lest he suffer any harm.

CHAPTER III.

What he taught and practiced concerning Obedience and Humility.

[23] Thus far certain illustrious deeds of Dorotheus, even when Dositheus died, as his Life has at number 19, still a disciple; but one who at the same time excellently fulfilled the parts of a master, as we saw. Now let us inspect what besides he did in that monastery of Abbot Seridus, before he passed elsewhere. His first Ascetic Institution, from the edition of our Corderius, treats of Renunciation and perfect Obedience, and also of the security to those obeying him; He praises Obedience to his disciples, and it is most excellent above all and a certain compendium of the ascetic life. And in order to form his disciples in those virtues, the Saint adduces many things laboriously, and powerfully perorates; and at last he thus explains to his disciples by his own experience the tranquility of indifferent obedience. I once asked that old man Abbot John, the disciple of Abbot Barsanuphius, and said: Lord, since Scripture says; That through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of heaven, and I see that I have no tribulation; what must I do, lest perhaps I lose my soul? for I have had no tribulation or solicitude. But while it happened that I had this thought, I took a tablet and wrote to the old man (for I asked him by letter) and before I set this forth to him and finished the writing, by his own experience I felt the benefit and relief: so great was the security and tranquility. But I, since I did not know the force of virtue, and heard; That through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of heaven; feared, because I had no tribulation. After therefore I had manifested this to the old man, and he proves it by the answer of St. Barsanuphius. he thus answered me: Be not afflicted, because you have no trouble: for whoever of the Fathers commits himself to obedience, obtains this security and tranquility.

[24] A little before he had set forth the example of his Dositheus, from what kind of life, indeed he shows that it snatches a man even from death; luxury, and sloth, to what measure of holiness he had come in a short space of time, because he embraced obedience, and cut off his own will; to which he thus subjoins: I tell you also another similar thing, which happened in my presence, that you may understand that obedience, and the lack of one's own will, snatches a man even from death itself. When once I was staying among the disciples of Abbot Seridus, there came there a disciple of a certain great old man from the parts of Ascalon, to inquire about something in the name of his Abbot. And he had instructions from the old man, to return in the evening to his own cell. by the example of a brother swimming a torrent for love of him Meanwhile a most violent storm arose with rains and thunders, and the neighboring torrent was now in the full fervor of its overflowing: nevertheless he, on account of the old man's word, wished to depart: but we exhorted him to stay, supposing it could not be that he would emerge safe from the river: but he could by no means be persuaded to stay. At last we said, Let us proceed to the river with him: for if he sees it, he will of his own accord return. We went therefore together with him; and when we came to the river, he himself took off his garments, and binds them to his head, and girds up his mantle or scapular, and casts himself into the river, into that whole horrendous flood. But we stood astonished and trembling, lest perhaps he perish. But he kept on swimming, and immediately is caught on the other bank, and puts on his garments; and thence bows to us, and receives the blessing, and goes off running. But we, marveling at the force of virtue, remained astonished, since we had directed our minds there with fear. But he himself, on account of his obedience, passed through without danger.

[25] He teaches by example, that the proud man first despises men, In his second Institution Dorotheus opposes to the beginning of all sin, namely pride, the barrier of humility, which, like pride too, he makes twofold. And the first pride indeed lifts up the mind against one's neighbor, the second against God. The first is, when one esteems his Brother as nothing, when he holds him in contempt, as if the man were of no worth; and prefers himself to him. From that, however, unless one quickly comes to his senses, he shows by experience that he has learned that one gradually arrives at the second, so as to rise up against God, saying thus: Certainly, my Brothers, I once knew a certain man, who came to this miserable state: and at the beginning indeed, if any of the Brothers brought forth something, he spat upon each one and said; Who is this? then the Saints There is no one except Zosimas and his companions. Then he began also to hold these in contempt and to say; There is no one except Macarius. And a little after he began to say; Who is Macarius? There is no one except Basil and Gregory. And also not much after, he began to spurn these too, saying; Who is Basil, and who is Gregory? There is no one except Paul and Peter. at last God himself. To whom I said; Certainly, Brother, you will despise these too. Believe me; after a little time he began to say; Who is Peter, who is Paul? There is no one except the holy Trinity. In this manner afterward he even swelled up against God himself: to such a degree was he mad.

[26] He teaches by a similitude, It may seem wonderful from this, how much the admonition of one and the same person avails with one and another.

and the admonition of one and the same person avails with one and another. All things Dositheus took in the best part, and turned out a Saint. On the contrary that one did not heed the admonisher, of whom just now; and came to the extreme of pride and stubbornness: Dorotheus admonishing this one no less paternally than that one. But let us further hear him speaking about humility. I remember, he says, the holier, are also the more humble when once we were speaking words about humility, and a certain illustrious man of Gaza was listening to us, bringing forward that very thing, that the nearer one is to God, so much the more does he see himself a sinner; fixed with admiration he said; How can this be? for he did not know, and wished to know the reason. Then I say to him: Lord Primate, tell me what you think yourself to be in your city? He answered; I think myself great and the first of the city. I say to him: If perhaps you go to Caesarea, what will you think of yourself there? I shall hold myself, he says, viler than the Magnates who live there. Then I to him: But if you go off to Antioch, what would you make yourself there? To whom he says; I would think myself there as a kind of rustic. I say to him at last; and that they more recognize themselves sinners: If you go to Constantinople to the Emperor; what will you think of yourself there? I would hold myself, he says, as a kind of poor and needy man. Then I to him: Behold, I say, so it is with holy men; the nearer they approach to God, so much the more do they see themselves sinners.

[27] Thus by a most beautiful similitude he showed his saying about humility to be true, more excelling in holier men. Which a certain Sophist, being by no means able to grasp, hearing Abbot Zosimas speaking the same words on this matter: Tell me, he says, how do you esteem yourself a sinner? do you not know that you are holy? which a sophist, unable to grasp, do you not know that you abound in virtues? See how you fulfill the commandments. How, doing such things, do you esteem yourself a sinner? But the old man, not finding by what answer to explain it; I do not know, he says, the manner in which to explain this to you; nevertheless I so feel. The Sophist therefore opposed him, wishing to know the manner in which the matter stood. But the old man, by no means finding how to set forth this matter to him, in his holy simplicity; Do not pervert me, he said; I indeed so feel. When therefore I saw the old man hesitating in his answer, I say to him: Is it perhaps so with the matter, as it is with the sophistic and medical art? when one skilled in it practices it, little by little by the very practice there is born in him a certain habit of the physician or the sophist; nor can he say or explain, in what manner he acquired the habit of that art, he aptly explains. while the soul gradually, without perceiving, conceives it from the practice of the art. The same also comes about in humility, while from the practice of the commandments a certain humble habit is born, which cannot be expressed in speech. As soon therefore as Abbot Zosimas heard this, he immediately embraced me, and said to me: You have found the very thing; it is so just as you have said. But the Sophist too, when he had heard this, was cured, and himself admitted this reasoning.

[28] He himself, truly humble, puts himself after all, To this chapter on humility may also be referred what, in the fourth Institution, which treats of the divine fear, he himself relates about himself. For; I indeed, he says with great humility, do not know whether I ever did any good thing: if however from this I was protected, I know that I was protected, because I never preferred myself to a Brother, but always set my Brother before me. Once when I was still with Abbot Seridus, the minister of that old man Abbot John, the contemporary of Abbot Barsanuphius, fell sick: and the Abbot commanded me, he gladly serves Abbot John, to minister to the old man. But I so embraced the door of his cell from outside, as one adores the venerable Cross; how much more his ministry? For who would not wish to be held worthy of such a Saint? Moreover he had also an admirable discourse, and always after the completion of any ministry of mine, with a humble gesture I showed reverence to him, that I might receive from him a blessing and depart; and he always spoke to me. And the old man had four words; and, as I said, in the evening when I was about to depart, he always related to me one of the four, and said in this manner: He says once (for so the old man was accustomed to say at each word, He says once) Brother, may God preserve charity. from whom he learns four maxims The Fathers said: To guard the conscience of one's neighbor begets humility. Again on another evening he said to me: He says once, Brother, may God preserve charity. The Fathers said: I never preferred my own will to my Brother's. At another time again he said: He says once, Brother, may God preserve charity. The Fathers said: Flee human affairs, and you will be saved. Again he said: He says once, Brother, may God preserve charity. The Fathers said: Bear one another's burdens, and so you will fulfill the law of Christ. and keeps them his whole life: The old man always used to give me, as I was about to depart toward evening, one admonition out of these four, in the manner in which one would give someone provision for a journey: and so I kept those for the keeping of my whole life.

[29] he desires to yield his place to another; Nevertheless although I had such confidence in that Saint, and was so affected toward his service; as soon as I perceived any Brother afflicted, because he sought to serve him; I went at once to the Abbot and asked him, saying: If you consent, Lord; this office suits this Brother more than me. But neither the Abbot, nor the old man himself consented. Nevertheless I meanwhile, as much as was in me, took pains that the Brother be preferred to me: and though I spent nine years there, I do not know that I spoke a harsh word to anyone, he silently bears one reviling him although I had an office; lest anyone say I lacked it. Believe me, for I know that a certain Brother, from the infirmary all the way to the church, pursued me with revilings: to whom I did not put back even one word. Nay rather when the Abbot too had learned this, by someone reporting it I know not how, and he excuses him before the Abbot, and wished to punish him; I went to embrace his feet, saying: Do not by the Lord do this. I erred; the Brother has no fault. At another time too, whether from temptation, or from simplicity (God knows whence) for a long time he passed his urine at night at my head; he likewise bears graver injuries so that even my bed was wetted. Likewise others too of the Brothers came in the daytime, and shook out their mats at my cell; and I saw such a multitude of bugs entering my cell, that I could not overcome them by killing them: of urine and bugs poured out upon him: for they were, on account of the heat, infinite. Moreover when I had gone to lie down, all of them gathered upon me; and sleep indeed came on from too much labor: but immediately roused from sleep, I found my whole body devoured. And I never said to any of them; Do not do thus; or, Why do you do this? Nor do I know, as I said, that I ever spoke a biting word, or one troublesome to anyone.

[30] Thus for his humility Dorotheus bore whatever injuries, and by bearing them wove for himself an incomparable crown of patience. Not so that other one; of whom there is treatment in the seventh Institution, who likewise seemed to receive with even mind the injuries inflicted by the Brothers, but not from a true motive of humility. There was a certain, he says, Brother in the monastery, before I departed thence, whom I never saw either disturbed or exasperated toward anyone, although I beheld many Brothers inflicting injury on him and making trouble. the humility of another, in appearance great, And that younger one bore with so even a mind those things which were heaped on him by any of them, as if no one at all had been troublesome to him. I therefore always marveled at the excellence of his patience, and desired to learn whence he had obtained this virtue: and once having taken him apart, showing reverence, I suggest, that he tell me, what kind of thought he always had in his heart, when he suffered either injuries, or any troubles from anyone; because he showed such long-suffering. he tests but condemns it. But he answered swellingly with insolence, and said to me: I am wont so to attend to these imperfections, or to receive them thus; just as little puppies are wont to be received by men. Having heard these things I let down my ears, and say to myself: This Brother has not found the way: and signing myself with the Cross, I withdrew; praying that God protect both me and him. So it happens also from contempt of injuries, that one is not at all disturbed: which is manifest perdition.

CHAPTER IV.

He consults his Master in all things: he learns the malice of suspicions, and shows it in another.

[31] He teaches that in the spiritual life a leader is to be chosen, In his fifth Institution, treating of a most useful and especially necessary subject in the ascetic life, Dorotheus teaches, that a Religious must not follow his own judgment, but must choose in the spiritual way a sure Leader, who may point out what is to be avoided, by what way one is to go, what is to be followed. And in order to persuade his disciples of this, he assumes as his theme what is said in the Proverbs; Where there is no governance, they fall like leaves: but there is safety in much counsel. Prov. 11:14 Which when he had beautifully proved by many arguments; he affirms, that the fall of most Monks arises from this head, that, seeming prudent to themselves, they have despised the leadership of the elders: and he teaches the contrary by his own example: I indeed, he says, hardly know that any fall of a Monk has ever existed, except from this, that he believed his own heart. Some say, that on account of this or on account of that a man falls: without which one must necessarily fall: but I, as I said, do not know that any fall has happened to anyone, except from this, that he believes himself. Have you seen anyone fall? Know that he directed himself: nothing is graver, nothing more pernicious, than to direct oneself. God protected me, and I always feared this danger. When I was in the monastery, I set forth all things to the old man Abbot John. he himself consulted his own in all things, For I never (as I said) presumed to do anything without his judgment. It happened sometimes, that my thought suggested to me: Will the old man tell you this? why do you wish to be troublesome to him? And I put back to the thought: Anathema to you and to your judgment, and to your understanding, and to your prudence, and to your knowledge, because what you know you know from the demons. trusting nothing to himself; I went therefore and asked the old man: and it happened sometimes, that he answered me the very thing which I had thought. Then my thought suggested to me: What then? Behold this is the very thing which I said. Did you not untimely interrupt the old man? And I put back to that thought: But now it is good, now it is from the Holy Spirit. For what is yours, that is evil, it is from the demons, from the state of passions is subject: and thus I never gave credence to my thought without inquiry.

[32] and hence he always lived most quietly, And believe me, Brothers, hence I lived in such quiet and such tranquility of mind, that even on account of that very thing (as I remember I told you elsewhere above at number 23) I was anxious. For I had heard, That through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God; and I saw that I had no affliction; and I feared and was anxious, not knowing the cause of so great tranquility, until the old man signified to me that I should not be afflicted; Because whoever of the Fathers commits himself to obedience, obtains this security and tranquility. Take pains, you too, Brothers, to inquire, and not to rely on yourselves. Learn what security this matter has, what joy, what tranquility of mind. But since I said, that I had no affliction, hear what happened to me in regard to this.

[33] When I was still living there in the monastery, once a huge and intolerable sadness arose in me; and I was pressed with such grief and anguish, even in the gravest anguishes of spirit, that I seemed almost to give up my soul. But this affliction was from the snares of the demons, and this kind of temptation was brought on from the envy of the devil; most grave indeed it was, but of the briefest time, troublesome, dark, devoid of consolation, having no rest; but on every side anguish, on every side suffocation. Quickly, however, the grace of God came into my soul, otherwise no one could have endured. which God quickly dispelled Moreover, as I said, placed in such temptation and such anguish, on a certain day while I stood doubtful in the courtyard of the monastery, and was invoking God concerning this matter; suddenly I turn my eyes toward the church; and I see someone in Episcopal habit, as if about to sacrifice, entering the sanctuary. But I never approached a guest without necessity or command. through some Saint appearing to him, Then indeed as if something drew me, I too entered after him. But he remained standing for a fairly long time, with his hands spread out toward heaven; and I stood behind him, praying with much fear: for from the sight of him a huge terror had invaded me. But after he had finished his prayer, turning, he came to me; and the nearer he became to me, the more I felt sadness and fear removed from me. Then as he stood before me, he stretched out his hand, and touched my breast, and struck it with his fingers, saying: With expectation I have expected the Lord, and he attended to me; and he heard my prayers, and led me out of the pit of misery and from the mire of dregs; and he set my feet upon a rock, striking his breast and saying certain things. and directed my steps; and he put into my mouth a new song, a hymn to our God. And all these little verses he repeated three times, striking (as I said) my breast, and so he withdrew. From then there arose at once in my heart light, joy, consolation, sweetness; and from one I am found another. As therefore he went out, I run to him, wishing to find him; and I did not find him, but he disappeared. From that hour, by the mercy of God, I do not know that I was any more disturbed either by sadness or by fear: but up to now the Lord has protected me through the prayers of those holy old men. These things I have told you, that you may know, how great quiet and tranquility with all-encompassing security he has, who does not rule himself, but casts his affairs upon God, and upon those who according to God are able to direct him.

[34] The subject of the ninth Institution is lying, and he distinguishes it into three differences: For there is, he says, he who lies in mind, there is also he who lies in word, there is finally he who lies even by his very life. And indeed he who lies in mind, admits suspicion. Hence he exaggerates its evil, and shows by his example that suspicions are by no means to be believed. For he says; He perceives bad suspicions, Once when I was in the monastery, I was tempted to perceive a person's state from his movement. There befell me therefore a matter of this kind. On one occasion while I was standing, there passed a certain woman carrying a water-jar: and I know not how, seized, I attended to her eyes; and immediately my thought suggests to me, that she is a harlot. As therefore my thought suggested this to me, I was greatly afflicted, and I manifest the matter to the old man Abbot John, saying: Lord, if unwilling I see the movement of someone, and my thought suggests to me his state, what must be done? And the old man answered me in this manner: What then? and learns that they are to be fled, and flees them perpetually: Does it not happen sometimes, that one has a natural defect, and through that contest corrects it? It is by no means unbecoming to know the state of anyone. Therefore never believe your suspicions. For an oblique rule makes oblique even those things which are straight. Suspicions are lying, and bring harm. From that time if my thought had said to me, that the sun is the sun, or that darkness is darkness; I would scarcely have believed it. Nothing is graver than suspicions, which are so noxious, that if they cling in us even a little, they begin to persuade us and effectively to prove, that we see those things which neither are, nor can come to be.

[35] On this subject I tell you a wholly admirable thing, which I attained, when I was still staying in the monastery. We had there a certain Brother, a brother laboring under the same, greatly agitated by this passion; who gave so great credence to his own suspicions, that he was utterly persuaded by any suspicion of his, that the matter was altogether so, just as his thought depicted it, nor could it be otherwise. In time therefore, the evil growing, the demons imposed upon him an error of this kind. When he had once entered the garden for the sake of inspection (for he was its keeper) he was deceived and seemed to himself to see a certain Brother, stealing and eating figs. But it was the Day of Preparation, and scarcely yet the second hour. As therefore he persuaded himself, that he had truly seen the matter privately; he hid himself and goes out silent: and he watched again at the hour of Communion, he accuses another of theft, to see what that Brother did at Communion, inasmuch as he had stolen and eaten figs. But when he saw him washing his hands, to approach Communion; he runs to the Abbot and says to him: Behold to what this Brother enters, to take holy Communion together with the Brothers! nevertheless forbid it to be given him; for I saw him this morning taking figs from the garden and eating them.

[36] Meanwhile that Brother enters with great compunction to the holy Oblation: who, examined by the Abbot, for he was very pious. As therefore the Abbot saw him, he calls him before he approached the Priest who was communicating: and takes him apart, and says to him: Tell me, Brother, what is it that you have done today? He was astonished; and asked of him: Where, Lord? To whom the Abbot: When you entered the garden this morning, what did you do there? Then the Brother, as if thunderstruck, again says: Lord, he is found innocent; neither did I see the garden today, nor was I here this morning in the monastery; but just now behold I have come fresh from the road. For as soon as I had finished the vigils, the Steward sent me on such-and-such business. But that matter with which he was occupied, was distant many miles from there, and at the very hour of Communion that Brother had freshly arrived. The Abbot then summons the Steward, and asks him: Where did you send this Brother? To whom the Steward answers, the same as the Brother had said; for I sent him to such a village, and he asks pardon saying: Forgive me, Lord, because you were resting from the vigils, and therefore I did not permit him to receive dismissal from you. The Abbot therefore, made more certain of the whole matter, dismissed them to approach Communion: and calls the Brother laboring under suspicions, but that brother is publicly rebuked. and rebukes him and bars him from access to holy Communion. And not only this: but also to all the Monks, gathered after Communion, he narrated with tears the whole matter as it had happened, and confounded that Brother publicly before all; effecting three things from this, namely that the devil be confounded, and the sower of suspicions be put to shame; and that through that ignominy the sin of the Brother be pardoned, and in future he receive help from God; and the other Brothers come out more cautious, and that we never presume to believe our own suspicions. Having exhorted us and the Brother much therefore on this matter, he said, that nothing is more pernicious than suspicions; and he demonstrated this by the present example.

CHAPTER V.

That vices, when they are tender, are easily overcome; when inveterate, with difficulty; St. Dorotheus teaches variously.

[37] To none of the others ought the eleventh Instruction yield in utility, which is entitled On the passions to be extirpated; and that they are to be plucked out while they are tender, and not to be despised on account of their smallness, he excellently teaches; among other things adducing a similitude, from the infirmity of the body to the sickness of the soul, in these words: Turn your mind, As infirmity of the body comes quickly, and recedes slowly; Brothers, to how matters stand; and see that you do not neglect yourselves: since even a small negligence exposes us to great dangers. I recently fell in with a certain Brother, whom I found already as it were convalescing from illness; and while he received us, I learned, that he had labored with fever only seven days; and behold now forty other days having elapsed, he could scarcely yet recover his former strength. See, Brothers, how miserable it is for one to fall into an unequal disposition. One generally despises small disorders; and does not know, that if his body has proceeded to be ill, especially if it has been weaker, there is need of much both labor and time before it is restored to health. Seven days that wretched man had been feverish: so also of the soul, and behold so many days are there, in which he neither found rest, nor could at all restore himself. So the matter stands also in the soul. One sins a little, and how much time does he spend dripping his blood, before he raises himself up! Thence assigning various causes of sickness in the body, which have no place in the sickness of the soul; he concludes, that nothing is an impediment to the salvation of the soul, except only its own disorder: whose disorder must be corrected at once, and he exhorts his own paternally, to apply mind and hand to a work so necessary, the brevity of this life being set forth. For he says: We see our Brothers, snatched from our midst; and do we not watch, knowing that we too gradually approach death? Behold from the time we have sat here speaking, we have consumed two or three hours of our time, and have been made nearer to death. And do we see ourselves losing our time, and do we not fear?

[38] a similitude being taken from little trees, Hence the holy man, supposing the minds of his disciples roused, to eradicate utterly the passions; sets before their eyes more closely the utility and ease of eradicating them, while they are still tender and weak; and draws a most celebrated similitude from small and larger little trees. Namely that once a young ascetic, ordered by his spiritual Father to pull up a cypress, which was very small; immediately pulled it up with the least effort: then one somewhat larger, with one hand; and one even larger than that, with both applied, with some effort, he uprooted: after these another (the size of the trees ever increasing) with much labor; and yet another, after much shaking and sweat, scarcely at last extracted: finally one coming nearer to greater and more long-lived than the former, he could by no means eradicate it by himself alone, he excellently shows: but only with the help of a fellow laboring together. And then the Saint subjoins: Behold, in this manner the passions are; while they are small, if we will, with tranquility of mind we can cut them out; but if we neglect them as small, little by little they harden, and the more they have hardened, the greater the force and labor needed. But if they have prevailed against us; we are no longer able even with the highest labor to pull them out, unless we have the help of certain Saints aiding us after God.

[39] but especially the appetite for sleep must be moderated, To this purpose, he says, it contributes very much, to examine how, who, in what manner one has spent the day, the night: whether for the vigils (for he dwells more tenaciously on this example, hinting that the appetite for rest and sleep is overcome with more difficulty than the rest) whether, he says, one has risen for the vigils with alacrity, whether he has not despised the one who rouses, or murmured against him. For everyone ought to know that the rouser for vigils deserves excellently of him, and becomes the author of the greatest goods, since he rouses him to pray to God for his sins, that he may be enlightened. How therefore should one not give thanks? when the signal for vigils is given, Truly he ought to have very many for him, since from him almost his salvation depends. Hence in solace of those who promptly rise when roused, and betake themselves to the vigils, he brings forward a marvelous vision, which had been shown to a certain great enlightened old man, and which he himself had received from that man's mouth.

[40] When that old man was standing in the church, the beginning of psalm-singing having now been given by the Brothers, he saw someone come out of the sacristy clothed in a white garment, who held a certain little vessel of blessed water with a sprinkler; and the sprinkler dipped in the vessel, he went around all the Brothers, sealing each of them: but the places of the absent, some indeed he sealed, but some he passed by. Toward the end again he saw him coming out of the sacristy, and doing likewise. On a certain day therefore the old man seized him, an Angel teaches, visibly going around the choir; and casts himself at his feet; demanding of him, who he was and why he did these things? To whom that white-clad one thus answered: I am an Angel of God, sent to this Congregation, to fortify with this kind of sign those who, from the beginning of the psalmody to the end, by their alacrity and diligence and notable purpose of mind, are found in the church and persevere. Then the old man to him; How is it, he says, that you sign the place even of some who are absent? To whom the holy Angel answered, saying: Whoever of the Brothers are diligent and of prompt purpose of mind, but on account of some necessity or infirmity are absent with the blessing of the Fathers; or certainly are occupied by the precept of obedience, on account of which they are not present; these too, though absent, receive their sign, since by affection they are present with those singing the psalms: but only to those who, when they could be present, on account of their negligence are absent, I have been ordered to deny this kind of seal, since they have rendered themselves unworthy of it.

[41] Wherefore he bids his disciples consider and see, what a gift he bestows on his Brother, who according to the rule of the vigil rouses him; and he admonishes them to take pains, never to be defrauded of the seal of the holy Angel: and of the same matter he thus sets forth his own solicitude and diligence as an example. When I was staying in the monastery, and Dorotheus by his own example by the judgment of the elders the Abbot had made me the carer of guests: but I was convalescing from a great infirmity. Guests therefore came, and I spent the evening with them. Likewise came camel-drivers, to whom I supplied necessities. Nay even not rarely, after I had gone to lie down, another necessity again arose, which roused me. Meanwhile indeed the hour of the vigils approached, and when I had taken only a little sleep, behold the prefect of the rules roused me. Moreover, whether on account of labor, or on account of infirmity (for I was still enervated by a little fever and stealthily seized) I was found as if not master of myself. of one praying some, to rouse him from sleep. I answered him therefore, still oppressed with sleep: Good, Lord; may your charity be remembered; may God give you a reward; lo as you have ordered, I come, Lord. Then as soon as he had departed, I fell asleep again. But I was vehemently afflicted, because I had delayed to rise to the church. And since it did not occur to him to urge me further; I asked two Brothers, one indeed to rouse me, the other not to permit me to doze in the vigils. And believe me, Brothers, I so venerated them as if from them my salvation flowed, and I all but adored them. So therefore you too ought to be affected toward those who rouse you to the rule of the church and to every good work.

[42] A transition being made hence to the inveterate habit of doing evil; a Brother stealing from habit Do you wish, he says, that I relate to you the example of a certain one who had the habit of a passion? Hear a matter worthy of much lamentation. When I was staying in the monastery, I know not how the Brothers were wont simply in jest to set forth their thoughts to me. Nay even the Abbot, by the consent of the elders, enjoined this province on me too. On a certain day therefore there came to me one of the Brothers, and says to me: Give me pardon, and pray for me, since I steal and eat by stealth. I say to him; Why do you do that? are you hungry? He answered: Certainly indeed: the table of the Brothers is not enough for me, nor do I dare to ask anything else. I say to him: Why do you not go to the Abbot, and intimate your necessity to him? Then he: I am affected, he says, with shame and blush. I say to him: Do you wish that I go to him for you? Then he: Do, he says, as you please, Lord. I went therefore and set forth the matter to the Abbot; who said to me, Do charity, and have care of him, as you know. Then having taken him, I say to the Dispenser: Do charity to him, he tries in every way to amend him, and at whatever hour this Brother comes to you, give him whatever he wishes, and deny him nothing. Which heard, the Dispenser answered me; As you have ordered, so I will do.

[43] When that Brother had done so for a few days; he came to me, saying: Forgive me, Lord; for I have begun again to steal. I ask him; Why? does not the Dispenser supply you if you wish anything? Yes indeed, with good leave, he supplies me whatever I wish: but I revere him. Then I say to him: Do you revere me too? He answered me, No. To whom I: If therefore you wish anything, come and receive from me, and do not steal: for I had then the care of the sick. He came therefore to me, and received as much as he wished. But he began after some days to steal again, and came afflicted and says to me: Behold I steal again. To whom I: Why, I say, but in vain, the habit prevailing. do you do this, my Brother? Do I not supply you if you wish anything? He answered; Certainly so. Then I say: Why then do you steal? To whom he: forgive me, he says, I know not why; but so simply I steal. Then I say to him: But tell me, what do you do with those things which you steal? He answered; I throw them to the ass. And that Brother was found to have stolen vetches, dates, figs, onions, and other things of the kind, whatever he found indiscriminately: and some indeed under his bed, but some he hid elsewhere. At last when he found nothing at all to do with them; when at length he saw them spoiled, he departed, or threw them away, or set them before the beasts.

CHAPTER VI.

He sets forth the manner of extirpating vices, and of grafting virtues into the soul, by a similitude taken from agriculture.

[44] Since these things are so; it will help to receive from the same master the manner of overcoming and extirpating the depraved affections of the soul, which is interwoven into the twelfth Institution, As a field must be purged of weeds and their roots, On the fear of future torment, and is shown in an apt similitude of agriculture. If anyone, he says, has a field, and neglects it and withdraws cultivation; does it not, as much as he neglects it, get just as much filled with thorns and thistles? But if he approaches to clear it, will not the more it has abounded with thorns, the more his hands flow with blood, while he wishes to pull up that evil herb, which he permitted to grow up in the time of his negligence? For it cannot be, that one reap anything other than what he has sown. And he who would best clean his field, must first indeed pull up by the roots all the evil herbs: for unless he has rightly and from the bottom pulled out all their roots, but only cut them off at the surface, they sprout again. He wishes therefore, that one pull up the very roots, then plowed and prepared, that it may bear fruit; as I said; and after he has rightly cleaned the field of evil herbs and thorns and thistles, that he turn over and break the clods and subdue them with the plow; and then at last scatter the best seed. For if, after he has applied such industry, he permits it to lie idle; the herbs sprout at once, which, finding that earth soft and well subdued, cast their roots deeper, and grow stronger, and multiply in it.

[45] In like manner the matter of the soul stands. First indeed he wishes to be cut out from himself every old affection and evil habits. Hence divine Basil says, so they must be pulled out of the soul too, that it is no small contest, to overcome one's own habits. For a habit strengthened by long time obtains for the most part the force of nature. He wishes therefore that one contend, as I said, against evil habits and against passions; and not only this, but also against their causes, which are the roots. For unless the roots have been extirpated, the thorns must grow up again. For there are certain passions, which can do nothing, if one cuts off their causes. As envy in itself is nothing, but has certain causes, evil habits and their causes, of which one is the appetite for vainglory. For while one desires to be honored, he envies the one honored or preferred to him in honor. Likewise also anger arises from other causes, and chiefly from the love of pleasure. Of this Evagrius makes mention, when he narrates, that a certain Saint was wont to say: Therefore I remove pleasures, that I may cut off the occasions of anger. Nay even all the Fathers with one mouth assert, that any passion is born of one of these three, namely the love of glory, the love of money, or the love of pleasure, as I have said on various occasions. He wishes therefore, that one extirpate not only the passions, but also their causes, and so through penance and tears rightly compose his morals his own; and then let him begin to sow the good seed, which are good works. then good works must be exercised. Since, as we said of the field, unless one casts good seed; evil herbs emerge; which, when they have found good and, from cultivation, soft earth, drive deeper roots in it. So too stand the affairs of man; if, after he has rightly composed his morals and done penance for his former deeds, he neglects to exercise good works and acquire virtues. For it is impossible for the soul to remain in the same state; but it is always advanced, either in good, or in evil. Therefore whoever wishes to be saved, has need not only not to do evil, but also to work good. …

[46] In the field, the seed must be covered with earth; He who sows his field ought moreover, as soon as he has cast the seed, to cover it and sink it deep into the earth itself. Since otherwise the birds come, and snatch the seed, and it perishes. But when he has hidden it, he awaits the mercy of God until he sends rain and the seed grows. For even if the farmer expends innumerable labors, both in cleaning the field and industriously cultivating it, and also in sowing; yet unless God has rained from above upon his seed, all his labor goes for naught. So too let us take pains, in the soul, the virtues with humility. that if we have done any good, we cover it with humility, and cast our infirmity upon God, asking him to favor our labor, that it go not in vain. Again sometimes it happens, that after the rain and the germination of the seed, the rain does not again fall at the opportune time, and the sprout withers and perishes: for as the seed, so too the sprout, needs the rain by which it may grow up, until it has been strengthened. As from the standing crops, But neither even after this can one be secure. For sometimes, even when they have grown up and made an ear, there comes upon them either the locust, or hail, or some other thing of this kind which destroys and kills the fruit. So too it comes about in the soul. For when one has labored strenuously, and cleaned it, as we said, of all the passions, so from good works the harmful must be kept off. and has been zealous for all the virtues; he ought altogether to attend to the mercy and protection of God, lest he abandon it and it perish. For, if after he has done such great things, God has turned away his protection even a little and abandoned him, forthwith it perishes.

[47] Again, just as, if the standing crop has suffered nothing evil in the earth, it has been preserved unharmed up to the harvest; The farmer cannot be secure, yet not even so ought the farmer to be without care. For it sometimes happens, that after one has reaped his whole field, and exhausted all his labor, there comes a depraved man, inflamed with hatred and envy, and casts fire into the crops, and destroys all that man's labor and fruit. unless the crops have been brought into the granary; Until therefore he has seen that he has rightly purged the whole, and put it into the granary, he cannot be secure. So too man, when he has been able to escape from all these things which we have said, ought not on that account to act securely. For it happens after all these things, that the devil finds something, by which to deceive him, either through self-justifications, or through pride, nor ought the Just man to be secure. or through the suggestions of unfaithful thoughts or of heretical depravity; and not only destroys all his labors, but even separates him himself from God; and if he has not been able against him through action, this he does to him through a single thought. For even a single thought can separate one from God, except by the reward of his justice obtained after life. if namely he has received it and consented to it. Wherefore he who wishes to be saved in truth, ought not to be secure up to his last breath. There is need therefore of no mediocre labor and care, and God must be assiduously prayed to, that he himself protect and save us by his goodness, to the glory of his holy name.

LIFE OF ST. DOROTHEUS THE YOUNGER, OR HE IN CHILIOCOMUS.

By the author, a contemporary Monk his disciple, afterward made Metropolitan of Euchaïta.

From the Greek Manuscript of the Vatican Library.

THE TRANSLATOR CONRAD JANNING.

Dorotheus the Theban, in Egypt (S.)

A. FROM A CONTEMPORARY, FROM A MANUSCRIPT.

CHAPTER I.

Dorotheus' birth, flight, monastic life, priesthood.

[1] It was fitting indeed that Pontus should be commended not only by an ancient, but also by a more recent narrative of deeds done, A Preface on the praises of Pontus so that its glory might become more celebrated on both sides, while those things which are now done, being like those which were of old done by the generosity of our ancestors, lend credence to these very things, otherwise incredible to future generations on account of their excessive marvelousness; and sight and hearing alike bear testimony to the disposition of those men fruitful for virtue, with whom the whole region round about widely abounds, men one after another, throughout its diverse parts and times, furnishing illustrious examples of virtues; nay even leaving behind, the course of life's wrestling-ground run, from time to time, in the place of contest the body as an undoubted token of salvation, destined to remain for those dwelling around.

[2] Of the number of these was also Dorotheus, that illustrious ascetic among the few: Dorotheus, born at Trebizond of a Patrician family I mean Dorotheus the Younger, who flourished in our age; concerning whom there is frequent discourse, needing much writing and narration: but for us I think few things will suffice out of many; since those few things too will hold the place of many, inasmuch as adapted to representing the man's supreme wisdom and supreme religion; and how greatly he was anticipated in those matters by grace, and how sure a pledge of that divine familiarity which he now enjoys he received before he migrated hence. Such therefore and so great a man once drew his origin from that region, inasmuch as born in a famous city, neighboring to Pontus, or rather in the Metropolis of a most illustrious nation. For he was a Trebizondian; deriving his descent from most noble parents, and these princes in the Magistracy; for his ancestors on his father's side were numbered among the Patricians, not those who had recently come from the plebs to that dignity; but those to whom nobility was, so to speak, hereditary; and who even now, on account of the notable glory of their lineage, like certain Heraclidae or Pelopidae, are praised.

[3] Sprung therefore from such parents, he passed the beginning of his life under the discipline of masters and pedagogues illustriously, to be placed in marriage at twelve years old, as befits a noble. As soon as he reached the twelfth year of his age, a sweet solicitude arose in his parents, considering and studiously consulting about placing their son in marriage. For thus far men did not know, that that boy excelled more in nobility of soul than of body, who before bodily age, wise beyond the body, from his tender years at once directed the keenness of his eyes to higher things than was thought and than others generally are wont, the fugitive withdraws himself from his father's house, holding it persuaded, that the message must be sent back to flesh and blood, and that his whole self, both body and mind, must be reserved in purity for the spirit. And so despairing that he could otherwise become master of his most ardent desire and break through the obstacles impeding it; he secretly withdraws himself and, going away thence, takes to swift flight: in which, wandering long while seeking for himself a suitable instructor, inasmuch as quite young and otherwise unaccustomed to travels, he came at length to Amisus; where he found the desired and sought-for master by the will of God. and brought to Amisus He was John, whom the fugitive was seeking and, having sought, found: John, I say, that one, who knew well divine matters and others by the inspiration of the holy Spirit, and had a soul adorned with the gift of perspicacity.

[4] This admirable John was even then occupied in laying the foundations of his most holy monastery, and John, then building the monastery Genna, which they commonly call Genna, that is, of the Nativity: and when he had beheld the fugitive guest, brought there, as is wont to be said, with full sails, and applying all zeal and talent, that he might be enrolled in the number of the disciples who were then being taught the monastic discipline by him: he receives the youth with a most sweet countenance and embraces him with open arms; namely by the perspicacity of his mind, which we have mentioned, cleverly foreseeing the future. Then having first brought forward and applied all trials, trials having been applied beforehand, in order to test the mind and disposition of the youth, as the monastic laws require, he asked, how he was disposed toward obedience, which among the other virtues holds the first place; how he was animated toward bearing labors and pains; and, to say it briefly, whatever else by rule those who are to be received into this great wrestling-ground of virtue ought to be asked by their Superiors, he examined him sufficiently. But after he found that the youth approved all things which pertain to the institute of the religious life, and meditated nothing alien to perfection; adding courage to him, he is tonsured a Monk; he shaved his hair, and led him, as one altogether worthy of that place, into the temple.

[5] And that indeed was the first and greatest of Dorotheus' desires: who thence, in the manner of the deer of which the Psalmist speaks, running in thirst, and by his desire for perfection at this spiritual fountain, both relieved his thirst and extinguished his desire; nay rather kindled it and excited it the more. For after he had tasted its sweetness, he was inflamed with a more vehement desire of perceiving the same; and always what was present at hand excited in him as he partook the longing for that which was absent. Hence then having begun the illustrious institute of his life, and having entered the sacred wrestling-ground, what kind of monastic virtues did he omit? to whom did he yield the first place in the exercise of good works? For straightway at the beginning, because, being in the first flower of his age, he ought to subject the body to the spirit through labors and afflictions; he applies himself to various virtues, he was ordered to serve the necessities of the Brothers. To this, the Father of all and common master furnishing the laborious youth occasions one after another of exercising himself, for the illustration of his good works; it is difficult to say, in which he came out and appeared more or less notable. For all the ornaments of his virtues were equal among themselves and most alike, and connected like a golden chain of many links; namely the greatness and promptitude of his mind, prudence, wisdom, obedience anticipating the command, the execution of works more perfect than could be hoped; finally, what is the chief and greatest of all, that estimation of himself by which he thought nothing illustrious was done by him, although he wrought all the most illustrious things; but looking to the Lord's precept, when he had fulfilled all things, he himself called himself an unprofitable servant, and unworthy of the prayers and blessing of those who serve God.

[6] When he had given his effort for a very long time to such exercises and to the service of men, and had been proved to show himself so prompt as no one more; and initiated into the Priestly order he was also judged worthy to be applied to the divine Sacrifice of the Mass; and excellently discharging his ministry (for the Apostle's saying makes for the matter) he acquired for himself a good degree, by merit worthy to praise the Lord in the chair of the elders. 1 Tim. 3 This kind of degree, by the works befitting it, he was entrusted to adorn most excellently; but he adorned it in fact more than he was entrusted: for he wrought at the most holy Sacrifice with such diligence, that for whole sixty-two years, from the time he was initiated into the Priestly order, he leads a life worthy of it, he offered the holy Host to God daily, suffering himself to be impeded from his institute by no cause, by no torpor. And with such prudence and purity; that after the new monastery was built, of which there will soon be discourse, and the migration to it was made, he never set foot outside its enclosures, nor endured that any woman at all should come into his sight. He conversed most sweetly only with those men who burned with love of God and engaged, as he did, in perpetual exercises of virtue; but he declined the company of those who were otherwise disposed. He dealt for the most part with himself and with God, through wondrous exercises of virtues. not only paying to Him his prayers, as others are wont; but meanwhile also perpetually wetting the pavement with a shower of tears: for he bore about a heart, according to the Gospel, wondrously burning within himself with the divine flame of compunction, and from the same cause he displayed a countenance, like him of old who had seen God, glorified and exhibiting something greater than human appearance. Luke 24:32 So did that holy man know how to honor the Priesthood; so again was he himself honored by the Priesthood. For what less could befall him, whose remaining life from then on so excelled, and who handled the divine thing with such observance, that he was deemed worthy even of secret visions (not to pursue each of the man's deeds) and received a revelation of great mysteries? whose end is the direction and salvation of souls; which had a marvelous beginning and occasion, but obtained an outcome better than all hope.

Notes

CHAPTER II.

He suffers ecstasies, and divinely ordered builds a monastery and church.

[7] Sent somewhere on business In what manner then and from what beginning did these things come about? Dorotheus was sent once by his spiritual father, to attend to some business: for not even after he had been raised to the venerable order of the Priesthood did he cease from discharging the ministries of the Brothers with great humility and alacrity of mind. But when he had excellently fulfilled all the parts of a subordinate, it behooved him, who had learned to be under others and to obey in such great matters, at last himself also to command others, and to be called truly great in the kingdom of heaven; since he not only did what is of a subordinate, but also taught, that subjection is a sign of divine visitation, on account of which the grace of God too had betrothed him to itself through love. When therefore the third hour of the day had overtaken the excellent man as he went where he had been sent, he turns aside from the road into a church, he betook himself at a run for the sake of prayer to one of the churches set beside the road, as was his custom, although he was pressed with most grave business: and the church was called of St. Anne, the grandmother of our Savior. Having entered inside therefore he placed his knees on the ground; and with hands, eyes, mind lifted up to heaven, he went wholly into an ecstasy; and at last scarcely restored to himself, he cried out a third time: and first Holy Trinity, glory to thee. And then indeed, the vision perhaps indicating nothing further, he supposed that voice had escaped him without cause: and pressing the mystery in silence in his bosom, he was at once uncertain in mind, at once considered diligently, what it meant. Nor did much time intervene, when again, sent somewhere for the sake of some ministry, he was taught the mystery more perfectly and more plainly, in this manner.

[8] As he chanced to be walking at the foot of this hill, which now displays on its summit this his sacred monastery, and again having suffered an ecstasy, there was set before him a certain divine vision of a man in the habit of a Monk, venerable with grey hair, becomingly adorned with sacred vesture, exhibiting something divine in his face; who, addressing the Saint by his name; Do you see, he said, son Dorotheus, that which lies above here? and at the same time he pointed out the height with his hand; That, he said, was once a dwelling, inhabited by many illustrious men, adorned with a venerable temple, distinguished by the appellation of the most divine Triad, he is ordered to build a temple to the Holy Trinity: of which now only the ruined walls are seen surviving. That very one must be raised up again through you more magnificently, and inhabited more splendidly, to the honor of the most holy Trinity, whose will so stands. But do you take care to remember these things in your time, and obey without delay. For the rest, be of good cheer and hope: for the holy Triad will have care of all things. These things said, he who appeared straightway vanished from sight: but he himself who had seen the one appearing, and heard him speaking, was seized alike with fear and joy beyond what can be told: struck with fear indeed and disturbed in mind, by the unaccustomed vision as is fitting; but at the same time anointed with joy, because he now saw declared and explained the mystery which had before befallen him; But deterred thence on account of the difficulties, and he said that not in vain had the most holy Trinity been called upon by him a third time, in that former vision, with all his might. Yet he could not altogether grasp the outcome of the matter; but the solution of the first doubt, as usual, was the beginning of another, partly to one shrinking from the command, and supposing that to himself, placed under another's precepts, and living under obedience, nothing at all was permitted beyond the will of his director, whether it be great or small; partly also to one considering his own measure, and altogether thinking that there was not available to him either pastoral knowledge to govern, or the means and providence to accomplish so great a work: especially since he was held by an incredible longing, like that of the inescapable Sirens, toward his Master, ready to undergo anything rather than to withdraw from his company.

[9] By such thoughts was he agitated, and wrestled with himself: which could not lie hidden from the one who sees; namely, the director and master of this wondrous Father; to whom even now, as always, he is encouraged by his Master, taught the command divinely, though far absent, all things were known, accustomed to reveal the depths, and to disclose hidden things. For the Saint, having returned from the completed ministry, after a brief delay, he calls to himself, and says: Why do you turn aside, my son Dorotheus? Has forgetfulness seized you of him who divinely admonished you, and of the commands which he gave? speak. But when he saw him disturbed by the unexpected discourse and as it were stupefied by some thunder; he refreshed him somewhat as he was failing in spirit and gently recalled him, and is brought to the designated place, and at last, taking him by the hands, brought him back. But he, retracing both his own and his fathers' footsteps, supplicated, prayed, besought; with kisses, tears, embracing of hands he venerated the beautiful feet of his director. For what did he not say? what did he not do of those things which are born to move a merciful soul to compassion? begging this one and only thing, lamenting much and praying, that he not be separated from his master; which he plainly called a separation of himself from God and a loss of his soul, and asserted to be most grievously to be borne, indeed intolerable to him. But the illustrious Director again consoling him; It cannot, he said, my son, it cannot be otherwise: for you know, that this command proceeds from God, not from man. And the things which God, who is holy, has established, who shall scatter? and his hand, which is exalted, who shall turn away? It is not therefore right not to obey the divine disposition: for that would be not only useless, but also altogether impossible. We moreover, if so it please you, nothing at all will hinder, from visiting you, though you tarry in the farthest regions of the lands, intending to give you counsel in our manner, and to direct you in spiritual matters.

[10] When these things had been said, the faithful minister of truth deferred no longer to carry out the matter set before him; and yielding at last to the will of God but those things being heard beyond hope and opinion, at once the true son of obedience allowed himself to be persuaded; bringing no excuse, adducing nothing to the contrary, dissenting in nothing; but without any violence committed himself wholly to grace; and with willing mind choosing what was more fitting, he went at once, or rather came, as he had been ordered, to the place designated by the vision. That place namely, which, widely visible from the neighborhood, though it was before uninhabitable, now has and nourishes so numerous a flock of Monks dwelling there in hope, as it is written, with food both bodily, and much more spiritual, of which they make the chief account, and for the sake of which they undertake the spiritual and salutary contests. To this place Dorotheus, sent by God and by his great father and instructor, set about the work without any turning aside, without any ambiguity; and added labors to labors and sweats to sweats, by cleaning out the place with his own hands, he sets about the work confidently, leveling it, carrying out the harmful debris: for it was very wooded, and filled with ruins and rubble of every kind. Wherefore at the beginning indeed he seemed to do a thing already done, and to wish to attempt what cannot be done; when he took into his mind to build a church and construct a monastery in a deserted and pathless land; and that as a stranger among strangers, poor, with one companion: an exile, unknown, deprived of all help and counsel. For altogether alone, he had no helper except one Basil, a good man, whom from those standing around him he had asked for and obtained from the common Father as a companion of his pilgrimage and contests: with whom both making the beginning of his labor, and undertaking such great contests, he was not to be abandoned in the end by divine providence. For the peoples dwelling around, but soon he is helped by many. soon perceiving what the matter was, and wisely judging among themselves that such things could not come about save with God as mover; with all zeal and effort applied their hand too to the work; with money, strength, and other means alacriously contributing their help and labor: whence both the temple (to say it briefly) in a short time, and a little after the monastery too, were brought to that form in which they are now seen: although time too, though brief, added some slight increase to those things which were then done.

[11] And this indeed is the cause and reason of the pilgrimage undertaken by Dorotheus to that place: this his work, this his manner of living and laboring there: nay rather that was not his work, but in a way the occasion and foundation of a better work, toward which he directed and referred all these things; toward the working, I mean, of virtue, and the exercise and institute of the angelic conversation, which he himself began and left to his successors there. And the first principles indeed, which he wished to be a rule for his own, he borrowed from his great Father as it were certain elements; the Rule of Arsenius, and their form, described from the precepts of that famous Arsenius, he received, like another Moses, tablets engraved by the finger of God. And this Arsenius was most renowned for virtue among the Monks, and who first of all began and ruled the Golden, as they call it, Rock, not far removed from there. But Dorotheus himself, adding many things found by himself to those, augmented by himself, he gives to his own, interwove the same into his manifoldly-plaited crown of ascetic comeliness, both to increase its beauty more, and to lay the foundation of greater utility. For what kind of virtue was not exercised by them? Was it long-suffering? was it modesty? was it contempt of present things, or love of those to come? was it meekness? was it purity? was it poverty of spirit? was it finally anything of all those things which can render a man blessed or are otherwise praiseworthy? who flourish in every kind of virtue Further, poverty, frugality, temperance in all things, zeal for watching, insatiable ardor for singing psalms, intentness in prayer, meditation of divine things, charity toward pilgrims and beggars alike, what part are these of those things which it is easy to relate?

[12] It is of them to seek and pursue nothing at all of the things which pertain to the body, but only those which pertain to the soul, unless the highest necessity press and they be such things, without which life can in no way be sustained. It is of them this too, no less than the other things spiritual and apostolic, that when from necessity they ask for something, they be burdensome to no one, nor yet place an obstacle to the illustrious exercise of virtue through such neglect of bodily things; but they work with their own hands, when there is need, and help themselves through themselves in their necessities; but that care of external affairs, in which many of the simpler ones so anxiously engage in collecting necessities for those practicing asceticism, they take pains to transfer to easily-procurable things; or rather they abstain from these altogether, that they may everywhere be able to exercise the works of justice without offense and scandal, and that no one's conscience be distressed about any of their works: but if the means be available, they make others alacriously partakers of their labors, so that even hence the force of virtue may be more admirable, which both pursues philosophic poverty, and distributes to others with opulent hand; since Paul too proclaims, that his hands ministered the necessities not only to his own, but also to the uses of his companions. Acts 20:34 Having this example set before himself, that Apostolic man, indeed I would even call him an Apostle, exercised himself excellently in those things, and instructed his own. Now indeed it must be considered by us, along with their other deeds, that too in which they earnestly engage, namely manual labor, inasmuch as this was only a secondary occupation; while the primary consisted in this, that they offer worship and sacrifices of every kind to God, nor do I know whether by anyone anywhere with greater accuracy than by these men here: so that they possess a good entire and on every part complete and perfect, as to the body indeed, sufficiently; but as to the soul, abundantly and with the most absolute perfection.

CHAPTER III.

The miracles and death of the Saint.

[13] Such therefore was the wondrous institution and conversation of Dorotheus, such the lawgiver himself, The holiness of Dorotheus is discerned from his rule who established this sublime and divine manner of living: which one thing may suffice in place of many arguments, to prove the man's virtue, and to discern how God was a care to him and he in turn to God, who glorifies those who glorify him and likewise honors those who honor him. But indeed since the multitude of graces and gifts, flowing thence into the holy man, is on the mouths of many; who, as they are eager to hear, are wont more keenly to direct their ears to narratives of new things; come let us too bring forward into the midst a few of his miracles, and that with as much brevity as possible; lest, wishing by the novelty of speech to deserve well of our hearers, and from the gift of contemplation. we imprudently dull their ears by the prolixity of the discourse. And the first and greatest of all the miracles in the Man is, that habitually and perfectly he penetrated or contemplated divine things; and what he had known should be done, he completed in deed, whence he was also deemed worthy of more abundant illuminations from heaven, as is fitting, on account of the purity of his soul. But behold the examples.

[14] Though absent, he snatches a shipwrecked man from the danger of death, It was the summer season, and the day had grown hot at noon, when suddenly the eyes of the one who sees ran ahead; and he himself too ran ahead swiftly, and cried out at an unseasonable hour, summoning the Brothers to an assembly: and as they at once, as is fitting, gathered and were astonished at the novelty of the matter (for it was not yet the time of Vespers), Let us give, he said, my Sons and Brothers, let us give glory to God, who just now beyond all hope has snatched someone from the depth of the sea (he added the name too) safe and unharmed. Having said these things he fell silent, and dismissed them wondering to the Synaxis. Not many days intervened, when that very man hastily approaches the monastery, calling with a loud voice upon his savior and deliverer, who had restored life to him; and holding his venerable feet, seized with both hands with as much alacrity and affection as he could, he did not let go or rise from the ground, though forced by all, before he had set forth to those present the whole series of his fortune: how, sailing by the King's command through the Astacene gulf, he had fallen into a violent storm; by which the ship being overturned with its passengers, he himself sought the bottom; and, just about to be violently suffocated by the waters, he saw a gentle vision, and heard a most longed-for voice; by which he was bidden to conceive confidence from the holy Father, who at the same time stretched out a helping hand. Which he, grasping as a sacred anchor, beyond all hope, he said, and expectation, having suffered no harm, in an utterly inexplicable manner, was cast forth onto the dry land; and these rewards of my preserved safety and gifts of gratitude I am now here to render to you, my savior, Father. After these things the time was observed, at which that accident and the prediction were made; and it was found to have been altogether the same: which moved admiration in all alike, both in him who had been endangered, and in those who had foreknown the danger. And such indeed was one of his miracles; if however but one: inasmuch as it comprises both foreknowledge, and prophecy, and a virtue greater than human, for rendering to men unhoped-for salvation. But another, or rather there are others, which must now be contracted, and many and manifold things narrated in the manner of one, although each of them happened at one time and another.

[15] It happened that certain Brothers of that sacred assembly went off somewhere for the sake of private necessity, Brothers lingering outside the monastery against his will and interposed longer delays as to their return. And when their Superior Dorotheus had often recalled them and urged those who delayed, he kept saying that the thing being done was unworthy and of little profit to those who thus lingered beyond what was becoming: but they brought forward one excuse after another in their faults, deferring their return. Then no longer in parables, but openly he foresignified death to them, unless, as quickly as they could, they returned to their former manner of living. But he persuaded the obstinate nothing by foretelling, he foretells death. but he persuaded by proving what he had foretold. For a very brief time elapsed from then, when each, as he had threatened, carrying off the wretched wages of his unfaithfulness, met an ignominious death outside the house of the Lord. And such indeed was he from the gift of prophecy; but from the grace of miracles, how great! The Monks were occupied about some building necessary to them, when a huge rock broke by its weight the machine Greek: a great rock rushing upon the workmen by which it was being lifted, and with great force rushed headlong, about to strike upon the heads of the builders. Straightway a huge terror ran through their minds at the danger before their eyes; and all raised a horrendous cry with despair, except Dorotheus, who being present despaired of nothing. For his hands were at once lifted to God, hands pure and holy, and a fervent prayer with tears under the invocation of the holy Trinity (O miracle! O the most powerful force of virtue!) stopped the danger in a moment, the holy Trinity being invoked, it stands still in a precipitous place. and rendered manifest the power of the one stopping it. For the rock, as if turning aside from the workmen, was driven back; and there, its rush checked, it stood; to this very day witnessing to the miracle-working power in the holy Man: since even now it offers a horrible spectacle to those beholding it, when in a slippery and precipitous place it seems not to lie, but as it were to hang suspended over those passing beneath, like the fabled and Tantalean rock.

[16] But how great praise the works of his hands, as it were accessory, brought to the Saint? The care of cultivating a vineyard had been committed to certain Monks, He sows a few grains and gathers them increased immensely. who bestowed strenuous effort on it: to whom he, approaching as Superior and companion, secretly committed a few grains of legumes to the earth, and gently covered them with soil heaped up by his feet. Now that which had thus been sown did not fill the tenth part of a medimnus: but that which was rendered in its time (good God, who can declare the power of thy Just ones!) was reckoned at altogether thirty medimni. Prodigies of this kind of the man one could at leisure enumerate more, and those most true; relating them not as gathered from hearsay, but bringing forward those very men who took in each by their own eyes, for the greatest confirmation of his words: since indeed the fame of his deeds penetrated even to the Emperors themselves, virtue rendering its worker celebrated, which raised him, as is its wont, to great glory. For it made the Saint so venerable to them, that both as to other things they thought something above man should be attributed to him; and indeed they bestowed their royal solicitude on his divine work (I mean this new and venerable monastery), which both supplied the necessaries for making the expenses, and brought aid for bearing whatever troubles; troubles, I mean, coming from outside; by which formerly and especially now all things are disturbed, and on account of which human life is violently shaken. And thus the glory of the holy man's right deeds grew to the highest greatness and admiration, and his life became renowned through nearly the whole world of the lands.

[17] Though healthy, he predicts that death is at hand for him, But his death (for why do we extend the discourse further?) how wonderful it too was, and how consonant with such a life! with the divine gifts working here too in his soul, full of grace. Not yet did any illness assail his body, not yet did any trace of languor appear; when the holy man foretold that death was at hand for him within a few days: and he prayed moreover that a part of those little goods of his, which were in the monastery, be given to him; that, he said, I may have provision for the journey by which I may migrate thither. But when those Monks, rich in their poverty, had at once eagerly brought all things into the midst (for so they had long been trained by their master in obedience), he had half of them at once distributed among the neighbors: and they were, he distributes certain little goods among the poor, as was becoming, the cheapest and of no value at all coverings and little vessels, and those destined for receiving and serving guests. To this he wished the poor to be made partakers, out of mercy, of all the things which were kept stored up for sustaining life, before he died.

[18] Three days from then had elapsed, when rising earlier than usual, he went around the little dwellings of the Brothers; and dealing with each apart, and falling at their feet, he falls at the feet of the Brothers asking pardon of his faults. as the very pattern of the humility that truly exalts its own, he asked of them prayers and pardon of his faults. Meanwhile, the Brothers, surrounding their Father with lowly reverence and devotion; and embracing him, weeping, bowing themselves down to the ground, fulfilling what was their office, midday had passed. Then, since he loved his own as much as anyone, he ordered each to go off and take food; saying further that no service was to be bestowed on him by them; inasmuch as he, no longer solicitous about the affairs of the community, as he used to be, attended only to his private necessity; and did not wish his own to be vexed about him. And some indeed strove much against it, but others did greater violence to him; He prays, and bidding his own sing psalms until they yielded somewhat to him as he took much pains: but soon they returned at a run to him; and finding him praying more intently, with reverence they stood by, until, the prayer finished, he exhorted the Brothers to sing psalms; and reclining himself, in quiet so to say and with his body bowed toward the ground and stretching out his feet, in peace, as it is written, he rested and slept a sleep rather than fell into death: namely a sleep, he dies peacefully: such as befits the just: and so was added to his Fathers this our holy Father, a son of the kingdom of heaven, to which he so cheerfully undertook the journey, hastening to the reward of the heavenly calling, and passing in an extraordinary manner to the heavenly rest out of these miseries; so that his death is worthy of no less admiration than his life. Ps. 4:9

[19] Such therefore was Dorotheus' manner of living on earth, by whose intercession the Author hopes such his works so many and so divine, so abundant the gifts bestowed by God: such likewise the man's passage, altogether most illustrious and becoming, and as it were a certain golden coping, fittingly set, as is right, upon such a conversation of his: by whose intercessions before God, whom he himself greatly pleased, we too long to be pleasing, as far namely as our state and strength will allow; since his goodness knows, out of his humanity, to rejoice even in the least, and to stretch out a helping hand to those who desire to attain virtue. And the Saint is able to supply what is lacking: since the same benignity, which here held the first place among his virtues, now there too, without doubt, perseveres, with no small increase of itself; especially since he is now nearer to that fountain of all good things, that he and all the Brothers will be much helped. from which, drawing goodness amply and copiously, he himself long ago both served and did good to many, and attained such great sanctity; but now he will do good more liberally, and will exert his beneficence toward us all, who are still surviving in this life and dwell in this wrestling-ground of training: until he, who has rewarded our Father, calls us too to the heavenly rest, or rather, let me say, to the freedom from all trouble; to whom befit all glory, honor and adoration, now and ever and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

Notes

Notes

a. Therefore born at Trebizond, a famous city on the Euxine Sea, which by another name is also called Oezenis. There is also another Trapezus on the Arabian Gulf: and a third in Arcadia. But the discourse here is of the former; to whose antiquity the empire of the East added great glory, transferred there from Constantinople by the Greek Emperors in the 13th century, and retained there for nearly two hundred years. The same was the native soil of the most famous men George, commonly called Trapezuntius, and Cardinal Bessarion.
b. These two most famous families were reckoned to be descended from Hercules and Pelops, between whom there was so famous a contention over the possession of the Peloponnese, that the return of the Heraclidae into it served some even as an Epoch. See Salianus, year of the world 2950, number 3.
c. For ἀήθης (unaccustomed) there was read in our copy ἀληθὴς (true); not rightly in this place.
d. Amisus, an Episcopal city on the Euxine Sea. It is distant from Sinope 1020 stadia, as Arrian testifies in his Periplus; although Stephen reckons only 900.
e. Γέννα, Nativity, Birth; perhaps, because the place was dedicated under the title of the Lord's Nativity.
f. Namely Moses, of whom in Exodus 34, verse 35: "And the sons of Israel saw the face of Moses, that it was glorified."
a. The gulf which extends from the Propontis toward the East in a long stretch, and washes Bithynia, took its name from Astacus, a city once famous. For another city of the same name in Acarnania does not make for this purpose. The same gulf is sometimes also called Nicomedian, from Nicomedia, which likewise lies adjacent to that gulf, and is thought to have been either founded or enlarged from the ruins of Astacus.
b. This is a memorial blunder: the Poets make Sisyphus, not Tantalus, roll and roll up the mountain a rock ever about to slip back.
c. Πόσος, how great, how much: hence the word συμποσέομαι (not yet read elsewhere), as it were "I am reckoned up together."

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