Chapter 5

When, then, he retired, and had resolved neither to go forth himself, nor to receive any one, one Martinianus, a captain of soldiers, came and gave trouble to Antony. For he had with him his daughter, who was tormented by a dæmon. And while he remained a long time knocking at the door, and expecting him to come to pray to God for the child, Antony could not bear to open, but leaning from above, said, “Man, why criest thou to me? I, too, am a man, as thou art. But if thou believest, pray to God, and it comes to pass.” Forthwith, therefore, he believed, and called on Christ; and went away, with his daughter cleansed from the dæmon. And many other things the Lord did by him, saying, “Ask, and it shall be given you.” For most of the sufferers, when he did not open the door, only sat down outside the cell, and believing, and praying honestly, were cleansed. But when he saw himself troubled by many, and not being permitted to retire, as he wished, being afraid lest he himself should be puffed up by what the Lord was doing by him, or lest others should count of him above what he was, he resolved to go to the Upper Thebaid, to those who knew him not. And, in fact, having taken loaves from the brethren, he sat down on the bank of the river, watching for a boat to pass, that he might embark and go up in it. And as he watched, a voice came to him: “Antony, whither art thou going, and why?” And he, not terrified, but as one accustomed to be often called thus, answered when he heard it, “Because the crowds will not let me be at rest; therefore am I minded to go up to the Upper Thebaid, on account of the many annoyances which befall me; and, above all, because they ask of me things beyond my strength.” And the voice said to him, “Even if thou goest up to the Thebaid, even if, as thou art minded to do, thou goest down the cattle pastures, {52a} thou wilt have to endure more, and double trouble; but if thou wilt really be at rest, go now into the inner desert.” And when Antony said, “Who will show me the way, for I have not tried it?” forthwith it showed him Saracens who were going to journey that road. So, going to them, and drawing near them, Antony asked leave to depart with them into the desert. But they, as if by an ordinance of Providence, willingly received him; and, journeying three days and three nights with them, he came to a very high mountain; {52b} and there was water under the mountain, clear, sweet, and very cold; and a plain outside; and a few neglected date-palms. Then Antony, as if stirred by God, loved the spot; for this it was what he had pointed out who spoke to him beside the river bank. At first, then, having received bread from those who journeyed with him, he remained alone in the mount, no one else being with him. For he recognised that place as his own home, and kept it thenceforth. And the Saracens themselves, seeing Antony’s readiness, came that way on purpose, and joyfully brought him loaves; and he had, too, the solace of the dates, which was then little and paltry. But after this, the brethren, having found out the spot, like children remembering their father, were anxious to send things to him; but Antony saw that, in bringing him bread, some there were put to trouble and fatigue; and, sparing the monks even in that, took counsel with himself, and asked some who came to him to bring him a hoe and a hatchet, and a little corn; and when these were brought, having gone over the land round the mountain, he found a very narrow place which was suitable, and tilled it; and, having plenty of water to irrigate it, he sowed; and, doing this year by year, he got his bread from thence, rejoicing that he should be troublesome to no one on that account, and that he was keeping himself free from obligation in all things. But after this, seeing again some people coming, he planted also a very few pot-herbs, that he who came might have some small solace after the labour of that hard journey. At first, however, the wild beasts in the desert, coming on account of the water, often hurt his crops and his tillage; but he, gently laying hold of one of them, said to them all, “Why do you hurt me, who have not hurt you? Depart, and, in the name of the Lord, never come near this place.” And from that time forward, as if they were afraid of his command, they never came near the place. So he was there alone in the inner mountain, having leisure for prayer and for training. But the brethren who ministered to him asked him that, coming every month, they might bring him olives, and pulse, and oil; for, after all, he was old. And while he had his conversation there, what great wrestlings he endured, according to that which is written, “Not against flesh and blood, but against the dæmons who are our adversaries,” we have known from those who went in to him. For there also they heard tumults, and many voices, and clashing as of arms; and they beheld the mount by night full of wild beasts, and they looked on him, too, fighting, as it were, with beings whom he saw, and praying against them. And those who came to him he bade be of good courage, but he himself wrestled, bending his knees, and praying to the Lord. And it was truly worthy of wonder that, alone in such a desert, he was neither cowed by the dæmons who beset him, nor, while there were there so many four-footed and creeping beasts, was at all afraid of their fierceness: but, as is written, trusted in the Lord like the Mount Zion, having his reason unshaken and untost; so that the dæmons rather fled, and the wild beasts, as is written, were at peace with him.

Nevertheless, the devil (as David sings) watched Antony, and gnashed upon him with his teeth. But Antony was comforted by the Saviour, remaining unhurt by his craft and manifold artifices. For on him, when he was awake at night, he let loose wild beasts; and almost all the hyænas in that desert, coming out of their burrows, beset him round, and he was in the midst. And when each gaped on him and threatened to bite him, perceiving the art of the enemy, he said to them all, “If ye have received power against me, I am ready to be devoured by you: but if ye have been set on by dæmons, delay not, but withdraw, for I am a servant of Christ.” When Antony said this, they fled, pursued by his words as by a whip. Next after a few days, as he was working—for he took care, too, to labour—some one standing at the door pulled the plait that he was working. For he was weaving baskets, which he used to give to those who came, in return for what they brought him. And rising up, he saw a beast, like a man down to his thighs, but having legs and feet like an ass; and Antony only crossed himself and said, “I am a servant of Christ. If thou hast been sent against me, behold, here I am.” And the beast with its dæmons fled away, so that in its haste it fell and died. Now the death of the beast was the fall of the dæmons. For they were eager to do everything to bring him back out of the desert, but could not prevail.

And being once asked by the monks to come down to them, and to visit awhile them and their places, he journeyed with the monks who came to meet him. And a camel carried their loaves and their water; for that desert is all dry, and there is no drinkable water unless in that mountain alone whence they drew their water, and where his cell is. But when the water failed on the journey, and the heat was most intense, they all began to be in danger; for going round to various places, and finding no water, they could walk no more, but lay down on the ground, and they let the camel go, and gave themselves up. But the old man, seeing them all in danger, was utterly grieved, and groaned; and departing a little way from them, and bending his knees and stretching out his hands, he prayed, and forthwith the Lord caused water to come out where he had stopped and prayed. And thus all of them drinking took breath again; and having filled their skins, they sought the camel, and found her; for it befell that the halter had been twisted round a stone, and thus she had been stopped. So, having brought her back, and given her to drink, they put the skins on her, and went through their journey unharmed. And when they came to the outer cells all embraced him, looking on him as a father. And he, as if he brought them guest-gifts from the mountain, gave them away to them in his words, and shared his benefits among them. And there was joy again in the mountains, and zeal for improvement, and comfort through their faith in each other. And he too rejoiced, seeing the willingness of the monks, and his sister grown old in maidenhood, and herself the leader of other virgins. And so after certain days he went back again to the mountain.

And after that many came to him; and others who suffered dared also to come. Now to all the monks who came to him he gave continually this command: To trust in the Lord and love him, and to keep themselves from foul thoughts and fleshly pleasures; and, as is written in the Parables, not to be deceived by fulness of bread; and to avoid vainglory; and to pray continually; and to sing before sleep and after sleep; and to lay by in their hearts the commandment of Scripture; and to remember the works of the saints, in order to have their souls attuned to emulate them. But especially he counselled them to meditate continually on the Apostle’s saying, “Let not the sun go down upon your wrath;” and this he said was spoken of all commandments in common, in order that not on wrath alone, but on every other sin, the sun should never go down; for it was noble and necessary that the sun should never condemn us for a baseness by day, nor the moon for a sin or even a thought by night; therefore, in order that that which is noble may be preserved in us, it was good to hear and to keep what the Apostle commanded: for he said: “Judge yourselves, and prove yourselves.” Let each then take account with himself, day by day, of his daily and nightly deeds; and if he has not sinned, let him not boast, but let him endure in what is good and not be negligent, neither condemn his neighbour, neither justify himself, as said the blessed Apostle Paul, until the Lord comes who searches secret things. For we often deceive ourselves in what we do, and we indeed know not: but the Lord comprehends all. Giving therefore the judgment to Him, let us sympathise with each other; and let us bear each other’s burdens, and examine ourselves; and what we are behind in, let us be eager to fill up. And let this, too, be my counsel for safety against sinning. Let us each note and write down the deeds and motions of the soul as if he were about to relate them to each other; and be confident that, as we shall be utterly ashamed that they should be known, we shall cease from sinning, and even from desiring anything mean. For who when he sins wishes to be harmed thereby? Or who, having sinned, does not rather lie, wishing to hide it? As therefore when in each other’s sight we dare not commit a crime, so if we write down our thoughts, and tell them to each other, we shall keep ourselves the more from foul thoughts, for shame lest they should be known. . . . And thus forming ourselves we shall be able to bring the body into slavery, and please the Lord on the one hand, and on the other trample on the snares of the enemy.” This was his exhortation to those who met him: but with those who suffered he suffered, and prayed with them. And often and in many things the Lord heard him; and neither when he was heard did he boast; nor when he was not heard did he murmur: but, remaining always the same, gave thanks to the Lord. And those who suffered he exhorted to keep up heart, and to know that the power of cure was none of his, nor of any man’s; but only belonged to God, who works when and whatsoever he chooses. So the sufferers received this as a remedy, learning not to despise the old man’s words, but rather to keep up heart; and those who were cured learned not to bless Antony, but God alone.

For instance, one called Fronto, who belonged to the palace, and had a grievous disease (for he gnawed his own tongue, and tried to injure his eyes), came to the mountain and asked Antony to pray for him. And when he had prayed he said to Fronto, “Depart, and be healed.” And when he resisted, and remained within some days, Antony continued saying, “Thou canst not be healed if thou remainest here; go forth, and as soon as thou enterest Egypt, thou shalt see the sign which shall befall thee.” He, believing, went forth; and as soon as he only saw Egypt he was freed from his disease, and became sound according to the word of Antony, which he had learnt by prayer from the Saviour . . .

[Here follows a story of a girl cured of a painful complaint: which need not be translated.]

But when two brethren were coming to him, and water failed them on the journey, one of them died, and the other was about to die. In fact, being no longer able to walk, he too lay upon the ground expecting death. But Antony, as he sat on the mountain, called two monks who happened to be there, and hastened them, saying, “Take a pitcher of water, and run on the road towards Egypt; for of two who are coming hither one has just expired, and the other will do so if you do not hasten. For this has been showed to me as I prayed.” So the monks going found the one lying dead, and buried him; and the other they recovered with the water, and brought him to the old man. Now the distance was a day’s journey. But if any one should ask why he did not speak before one of them expired, he does not question rightly; for the judgment of that death did not belong to Antony, but to God, who both judged concerning the one; and revealed concerning the other. But this alone in Antony was wonderful, that sitting on the mountain he kept his heart watchful, and the Lord showed him things afar off.

For once again, as he sat on the mountain and looked up, he saw some one carried aloft, and a great rejoicing among some who met him. Then wondering, and blessing such a choir, he prayed to be taught what that might be; and straightway a voice came to him that this was the soul of Ammon, the monk in Nitria, {60} who had persevered as an ascetic to his old age; and the distance from Nitria to the mountain where Antony was, is thirteen days’ journey. Those then who were with Antony, seeing the old man wondering, asked the reason, and heard that Ammon had just expired, for he was known to them on account of his having frequently come thither, and many signs having been worked by him, of which this is one. . . .

[Here follows the story (probably an interpolation) of Ammon’s being miraculously carried across the river Lycus, because he was ashamed to undress himself.]

But the monks to whom Antony spoke about Ammon’s death noted down the day; and when brethren came from Nitria after thirty days, they inquired and learnt that Ammon had fallen asleep at the day and hour in which the old man saw his soul carried aloft. And all on both sides wondered at the purity of Antony’s soul; how he had learnt and seen instantly what had happened thirteen days’ journey off.

Moreover, Archeleas the Count, finding him once in the outer mountain praying alone, asked him concerning Polycratia, that wonderful and Christ-bearing maiden in Laodicea; for she suffered dreadful internal pain from her extreme training, and was altogether weak in body. Antony, therefore, prayed; and the Count noted down the day on which the prayer was offered. And going back to Laodicea, he found the maiden cured; and asking when and on what day her malady had ceased, he brought out the paper on which he had written down the date of the prayer. And when she told him, he showed at once the writing on the paper. And all found that the Lord had stopped her sufferings while Antony was still praying and calling for her on the goodness of the Saviour.

And concerning those who came to him, he often predicted some days, or even a month, beforehand, and the cause why they were coming. For some came only to see him, and others on account of sickness, and others because they suffered from dæmons, and all thought the labour of the journey no trouble nor harm, for each went back aware that he had been benefited. And when he spoke and looked thus, he asked no one to marvel at him on that account, but to marvel rather at the Lord, because he had given us, who are but men, grace to know him according to our powers. And as he was going down again to the outer cells, and was minded to enter a boat and pray with the monks, he alone perceived a dreadfully evil odour, and when those in the boat told him that they had fish and brine on board, and that it was they which smelt, he said that it was a different smell; and while he was yet speaking, a youth, who had an evil spirit, had gone before them and hidden in the boat, suddenly cried out. But the dæmon, being rebuked in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, went out of him, and the man became whole, and all knew that the smell had come from the evil spirit. And there was another man of high rank who came to him, having a dæmon, and one so terrible, that the possessed man did not know that he was going to Antony, but [showed the common symptoms of mania]. Those who brought him entreated Antony to pray over him, which he did, feeling for the young man, and he watched beside him all night. But about dawn, the young man, suddenly rushing on Antony, assaulted him. When those who came with him were indignant, Antony said, “Be not hard upon the youth, for it is not he, but the dæmon in him; and because he has been rebuked, and commanded to go forth into dry places, he has become furious, and done this. Glorify, therefore, the Lord for his having thus rushed upon me, as a sign to you that the dæmon is going out.” And as Antony said this, the youth suddenly became sound, and, recovering his reason, knew where he was, and embraced the old man, giving thanks to God. And most of the monks agree unanimously that many like things were done by him: yet are they not so wonderful as what follows. For once, when he was going to eat, and rose up to pray about the ninth hour, he felt himself rapt in spirit; and (wonderful to relate) as he stood he saw himself as it were taken out of himself, and led into the air by some persons; and then others, bitter and terrible, standing in the air, and trying to prevent his passing upwards. And when those who led him fought against them, they demanded whether he was not accountable to them. And when they began to take account of his deeds from his birth, his guides stopped them, saying, “What happened from his birth upwards, the Lord hath wiped out: but of what has happened since he became a monk, and made a promise to God, of that you may demand an account.” Then, when they brought accusations against him, and could not prove them, the road was opened freely to him. And straightway he saw himself as if coming back and standing before himself, and was Antony once more. Then, forgetting that he had not eaten, he remained the rest of the day and all night groaning and praying, for he wondered when he saw against how many enemies we must wrestle, and through how many labours a man must traverse the air; and he remembered that it is this which the Apostle means with regard to the Prince of the power of the air; for it is in the air that the enemy has his power, fighting against those who pass through it, and trying to hinder them. Wherefore, also he especially exhorts us: “Take the whole armour of God, that the enemy, having no evil to say about us, may be ashamed.” But when we heard this, we remembered the Apostle’s saying, “Whether in the body I cannot tell, or out of the body I cannot tell: God knoweth.” But Paul was caught up into the third heaven, and, having heard unspeakable words, descended again; but Antony saw himself rapt in the air, and wrestling till he seemed to be free.

Again, he had this grace, that as he was sitting alone in the mountain, if at any time he was puzzled in himself, the thing was revealed to him by Providence as he prayed; and the blessed man was, as Scripture says, taught of God. After this, at all events, when he had been talking with some who came to him concerning the departure of the soul, and what would be its place after this life, the next night some one called him from without, and said, “Rise up, Antony; come out and see.” So coming out (for he knew whom he ought to obey), he beheld a tall being, shapeless and terrible, standing and reaching to the clouds, and as it were winged beings ascending; and him stretching out his hands; and some of them hindered by him, and others flying above him, and when they had once passed him, borne upwards without trouble. But against them that tall being gnashed his teeth, while over those who fell, he rejoiced. And there came a voice to Antony, “Consider what thou seest.” And when his understanding was opened, he perceived that it was the enemy who envies the faithful, and that those who were in his power he mastered and hindered from passing; but that those who had not obeyed him, over them, as over conquerors, he had no power. Having seen this, and as it were made mindful by it, he struggled more and more daily to improve. Now these things he did not tell of his own accord; but when he was long in prayer, and astonished in himself, those who were with him questioned him and urged him; and he was forced to tell; unable, as a father, to hide anything from his children; and considering, too, that his own conscience was clear, and the story would be profitable for them, when they learned that the life of training bore good fruit, and that visions often came as a solace of their toils.