Chapter 13 - THE MONKS
In the story of St. Athanasius, monks have been more than once
mentioned, and it is now time to give some account of these people
and of their ways.
The word "monk" properly means one who leads a "lonely"
life; and the name was given to persons who professed to withdraw
from the world and its business that they might give themselves
up to serve God in religious thoughts and exercises. Among the Jews
there had been whole classes of people who practised this sort of
retirement: some, called "Essenes", lived near the Red
Sea; and others, called "Therapeutae," in Egypt, where
a great number of Jews had settled. Among the heathens of the East,
too, a like manner of living had been common for ages, as it still
continues to be; and many of them carry it to an excessive strictness,
as we are told by travellers who have visited India, Thibet, and
other countries of Asia.
Nothing of the kind, however, is commanded for Christians in the
New Testament; and when Scripture warrant for the monkish life was
sought for, the great patterns who were produced were Elijah and
St John the Baptist--the one of them an Old Testament prophet; the
other, a holy man who lived, indeed, in the days when our Lord Himself
was on the earth, but who was not allowed to enter into His Church,
or to see it fully established by the coming of the Holy Ghost at
the day of Pentecost. But still it was very natural that the notion
of a life of strict poverty, retirement from the world, and employment
in spiritual things, should find favour with Christians, as a means
of fulfilling the duties of their holy calling, and so it seems
that some of them took to this way of life very early. But the first
who is named as a "hermit" (that is to say, a dweller
in the wilderness) was Paul, a young man of Alexandria, who, in
the year 251, fled from the persecution of Decius into the Egyptian
desert, where he is said to have lived ninety years. Paul, although
he afterwards became very famous, spent his days without being known,
until, just before his death, he was visited by another great hermit,
St. Antony. But Antony himself was a person of great note and importance
in his own lifetime.
He was born in the district of Thebes, in Egypt, in the very same
year that Paul withdrew from the world. While a boy, he was thoughtful
and serious. His parents died before he had reached the age of twenty,
and left him considerable wealth. One day, when in church, he was
struck by hearing the story of the rich young man who was charged
to sell all that he had, give to the poor, and follow our Lord (St.
Luke xviii. 18-22). At another time he was moved by hearing the
charge to "take no thought for the morrow" (St. Matt.
vi. 34). And in order to obey these commands (as he thought), Antony
parted with all that belonged to him, bade farewell to his only
sister, and left his home, with the intention of living in loneliness
and devotion. He carried on this life for many years, and several
times changed his abode, that he might seek out some place still
wilder and more remote than the last. But he grew so famous that
people flocked even into the depths of the wilderness to see him.
A number of disciples gathered around him, and hermits or monks
began to copy his way of life in other parts of Egypt. Antony's
influence became very great; he made peace between enemies, comforted
mourners, and gave advice to all who asked him as to spiritual concerns;
and when he took the part of any oppressed person who applied to
him, his interference was always successful. Affairs of this kind
sometimes obliged him to leave his cell (as the dwellings of the
monks were called); but he always returned as soon as possible,
for he used to say that "a monk out of his solitude is like
a fish out of water." Even the emperors, Constantine and his
sons, wrote to him with great respect, and asked him to visit their
courts. He thanked them, but did not accept their invitation, and
he wrote more than once to them in favour of St. Athanasius, whom
he steadily supported in his troubles on account of the faith. On
two great occasions he visited Alexandria, for the purpose of strengthening
his brethren in their sufferings for the truth. The first of these
visits was while the last heathen persecution, under Maximin, was
raging (see page 36). Antony stood by the martyrs at their trials
and in their death, and took all opportunities of declaring himself
a Christian; but the persecutors did not venture to touch him: and,
after waiting till the heat of the danger was past, he again withdrew
to the wilderness. The second visit was in the time of the Arian
disturbances, when his appearance had even a greater effect than
before. The Catholics were encouraged by his exhortations, and a
great number of conversions took place in consequence. Antony died,
at the age of a hundred and five, in the year 356, a few days before
the great bishop of Alexandria was driven to seek a refuge in the
desert. (see page 54)
Antony, as we have seen, was a hermit, living in the wilderness
by himself. But by-and-by other kinds of monks were established,
who lived in companies together. Sometimes they were lodged in clusters
of little cells, each of them having his separate cell, or two or
three living together; sometimes the cells were all in one large
building, called a monastery. The head of each monastery, or of
each cluster of cells, was called "abbot", which means
"father". And in some cases there were many monasteries
belonging to one "order", so that they were all considered
as one society, and there was one chief abbot over all. Thus the
order founded by Pachomius, on an island in the Nile, soon spread,
so that before his death it had eight monasteries, with three thousand
monks among them; and about fifty years later, it had no fewer than
fifty thousand monks.
These monks of Pachomius lived in cells, each of which contained
three. Each cluster of cells had its abbot; the head of the order,
who was called the "archimandrite" (which means chief
of a sheepfold), went round occasionally to visit all the societies
which were under him, and the whole order met every year at the
chief monastery for the festival of Easter, and a second time in
the month of August. The monks of St. Pachomius prayed many times
a day. They fasted every Wednesday and Friday, and communicated
every Sunday and Saturday. They took their meals together and sang
psalms before each. They were not allowed to talk at table, but
sat with their hoods drawn over their faces, so that no one could
see his neighbours, or anything but the food before him. Their dress
was coarse and plain; the chief article of it was a rough goat-skin,
in imitation of the prophet Elijah. They slept with their clothes
on, not in beds, but in chairs, which were of such a shape as to
keep them almost standing. They spent their time not only in prayers
and other religious exercises, but in various kinds of simple work,
such as labouring in the fields, weaving baskets, ropes, and nets,
or making shoes. They had boats in which they sent the produce of
their labour down the Nile to Alexandria; and the money which they
got by selling it was not only enough to keep them, but enabled
them to redeem captives, and to do such other acts of charity.
This account of the monks of St. Pachomius will give some notion
of the monkish life in general, although one order differed from
another in various ways. All that the monks had was considered to
belong to them in common, after the pattern of the first Christians,
as was supposed (Acts ii. 34; iv. 32); and no one was allowed to
have anything of his own. Thus we are told that when a monk was
found at his death to have left a hundred pieces of silver, which
he had earned by weaving flax, his brethren, who were about three
thousand in number, met to consider what should be done with the
money. Some were for giving it to the Church; some, to the poor.
But the fathers of the society quoted St. Peter's words to Simon
the sorcerer, "Thy money perish with thee" (Acts viii.
20), and on the strength of this text (which in truth had not much
to do with the matter), they ordered that it should be buried with
its late owner. St. Jerome, who tells the story, says that this
was not done out of any wish to condemn the dead monk, but in order
that others might be deterred from hoarding.
These different kinds of monks were first established in various
parts of Egypt; but their way of life was soon taken up in other
countries; and societies of women, who were called "nuns"
(that is to say "mothers"), were formed under the same
kind of rules.
One thing which had much to do with making monkish life so common
was, that when persecution by the heathen was at an end, many Christians
felt the want of something which might assure them that they were
separate from the world, as Christ's true people ought to be. It
was no longer enough that they should call themselves Christians;
for the world had come to call itself Christian too. Perhaps we
may think that it would have been better if those who wished to
live religiously had tried to go on doing their duty in the world,
and to improve it by the example and the influence of holy and charitable
lives, instead of running away from it. And they were certainly
much mistaken if they fancied that by hiding themselves in the desert
they were likely to escape temptations. For temptations followed
them into their retreats, and we have only too many proofs, in the
accounts of famous monks, that the effect of this mistake was often
very sad indeed. And we may be sure that if the good men who in
those days were active in recommending the life of monks had been
able to foresee how things would turn out, they would have been
much more cautious in what they said of it.
It was not every one who was fit for such a life, and many took
it up without rightly considering whether they were fit for it.
The kind of work which was provided for them was not enough to occupy
them thoroughly, and many of them suffered grievously from temptations
to which their idleness laid them open. It was supposed, indeed,
that they might find the thoughts of heavenly things enough to fill
their minds; and, when a philosopher asked Antony how he could live
without books, he answered that for him the whole creation was a
book, always at hand, in which he could read God's word whenever
he pleased. But it was not every one who could find such delight
in that great book, and many of the monks, for want of employment,
were tormented by all sorts of evil thoughts, nay, some of them
were even driven into madness by their way of life.
The monks ran into very strange mistakes as to their duty towards
their kindred. Even Antony himself, although he was free from many
of the faults of spiritual pride and the like, which became too
common among his followers, thought himself bound to overcome his
love for his young sister. And, as another sample of the way in
which monks were expected to deaden their natural affections, I
may tell you how his disciple Pior behaved. Pior, when a youth,
left his father's house, and vowed that he would never again look
on any of his relations--which was surely a very rash and foolish
and wrong vow. He went into the desert, and had lived there fifty
years, when his sister heard that he was still alive. She was too
infirm to go in search of him, but she contrived that the abbot,
under whose authority he was, should order him to pay her a visit.
Pior went accordingly, and, when he had reached her house, he stood
in front of it, and sent to tell her that he was there. The poor
old woman made all haste to get to him; her heart was full of love
and delight at the thoughts of seeing her brother again after so
long a separation. But as soon as Pior heard the door opening, he
shut his eyes, and he kept them shut all through the meeting. He
refused to go into his sister's house, and when he had let her see
him for a short time in this way, without showing her any token
of kindness, he hurried back to the desert.
In later times monks were usually ordained as clergy of the Church.
But at first it was not intended that they should be so, and in
each monastery there were only so many clergy as were needed for
the performance of Divine Service and other works of the ministry.
And in those early days, many monks had a great fear of being ordained
clergymen or bishops, because they thought that the active business
in which bishops and other clergy were obliged to engage, would
hinder their reaching to the higher degrees of holiness. Thus a
famous monk, named Ammonius, on being chosen for a bishopric, cut
off one of his ears, thinking that this blemish would prevent his
being made a priest, as it would have done under the law of Moses
(Lev. xxi. 17-23), and when he was told that it was not so in the
Christian Church, he threatened to cut out his tongue.
It was not long before the sight of the great respect which was
paid to the monks led many worthless people to call themselves monks
for the sake of what they might get by doing so. These fellows used
to go about, wearing heavy chains, uncouthly dressed, and behaving
roughly, and they told outrageous stories of visions and of fights
with devils which they pretended to have had. By such tricks they
got large sums of money from people who were foolish enough to encourage
them; and they spent it in the most shameful ways.
But besides these vile hypocrites, many monks who seem to have
been sincere enough ran into very strange extravagances. There was
one kind of them called "Grazers", who used to live among
mountains, without any roof to shelter them, browsing, like beasts,
on grass and herbs, and by degrees growing much more like beasts
than men. And in the beginning of the fifth century, one Symeon
founded a new sort of monks, who were called "Stylites"
(that is to say, pillar saints), from a Greek word, which means
a pillar. Symeon was a Syrian, and lived on the top of one pillar
after another for seven-and-thirty years. Each pillar was higher
than the one before it; the height of the last of them was forty
cubits (or seventy feet), and the top of it was only a yard across.
There Symeon was to be seen, with a heavy iron chain round his neck,
and great numbers of people flocked to visit him; some of them even
went all the way from our own country. And when he was dead, a monk
named Daniel got the old cowl which he had worn, and built himself
a pillar near Constantinople, where he lived three-and-thirty years.
The high winds sometimes almost blew him from his place, and sometimes
he was covered for days with snow and ice, until the emperor Leo
made him submit to let a shed be built round the top of his pillar.
The fame and influence which these monks gained were immense. They
were supposed to have the power of prophecy and of miracles; they
were consulted even by emperors and kings, in the most important
matters; and sometimes, on great occasions, when a stylite descended
from his pillar, or some famous hermit left his cell, and appeared
among the crowds of a city, he was able to make everything bend
to his will.
We must not be blind to the serious errors of monkery; but we are
bound also to own that God was pleased to make it the means of great
good. The monks did much for the conversion of the heathen, and
when the ages of darkness came on, after the overthrow of the Roman
empire in the West, they rendered inestimable service in preserving
the knowledge of learning and religion, which, but for them, might
have utterly perished from the earth.
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