Life of Antony

You have entered on a good rivalry with the monks in Egypt, choosing either to equal them or even to surpass them in your training in virtue. For now there are monasteries among you too, and the name of monks is established among you. One would rightly praise this purpose; and may God bring it to completion in answer to your prayers. Since you have asked me also about the way of life of the blessed Antony, wishing to learn how he began his discipline, who he was before it, what kind of end his life had, and whether what is said about him is true, so that you may lead yourselves to emulate him, I received your command with great eagerness. For to me too it is a great gain merely to remember Antony; and I know that you too, when you have heard, will not only admire the man but will also wish to emulate his purpose; for the life of Antony is a sufficient pattern of discipline for monks. Do not disbelieve what you have heard about him from those who brought you the news; rather think that you have heard only a little from them; for they could hardly have told so much. Since I too, urged on by you, will write only a few of the things about him, as much as I can indicate in a letter, do not stop questioning those who sail from here. For perhaps, if each tells what he knows, the account of him will barely be worthy of him. When I received your letter, I wished to send for some of the monks, especially those who used to visit him most often, so that I might learn something more and write to you more fully; but since the sailing season was closing and the letter-carrier was in haste, I have hastened to write to your piety what I myself know (for I saw him often), and what I was able to learn from him, having followed him for no short time and poured water on his hands. Everywhere I have taken care for the truth, so that no one, hearing more …

Antony was an Egyptian by race, of well-born parents who possessed sufficient property; and since they were Christians, he too was brought up in a Christian way. As a child he was raised by his parents, knowing nothing besides them and the house. When he grew and became a boy and advanced in years, he would not consent to learn letters, wishing to be apart even from the company of other children; and all his desire was, as is written of Jacob, to live a plain life in his home. He used, however, to go with his parents to the Lord’s house; and neither as a child was he idle, nor as he grew older did he become contemptuous; but he was subject to his parents, and attending to the readings he kept within himself the benefit he drew from them. Nor again, though as a child he lived in moderate wealth, did he trouble his parents for varied and costly food, nor did he seek the pleasures it brings; he was content with whatever he found and sought nothing more.

After the death of his parents he was left alone with one very young sister; and being about eighteen or twenty years old, he took care of the house and of his sister. Not six months had passed since his parents’ death when, going as usual to the Lord’s house and collecting his thoughts, he reflected as he walked how the apostles left everything and followed the Savior; and how those in the Acts sold what they had and brought the money and laid it at the apostles’ feet for distribution to those in need; and what and how great a hope was laid up for them in heaven. Pondering these things, he entered the church; and it happened that the Gospel was then being read, and he heard the Lord saying to the rich man: “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, and come, follow me, and you will have treasure in heaven.” Antony, as though he had received the memory of the saints from God, and as though the reading had been made for his sake, went out at once from the Lord’s house. The possessions he had from his forebears (three hundred arouras, fertile and very fine) he gave to the people of the village, so that they should not trouble him and his sister in anything at all. The rest …

And when he entered the Lord’s house again and heard the Lord saying in the Gospel, “Do not be anxious about tomorrow,” he could not bear to stay any longer, but went out and gave those things too to the poor. Entrusting his sister to well-known and faithful virgins, and giving her to a house of virgins to be brought up, he himself from then on devoted himself to discipline in front of his house, attending to himself and training himself with endurance. For there were not yet so many monasteries in Egypt, nor did any monk at all know the far desert; but each who wished to attend to himself practiced discipline alone, not far from his own village. There was then in the next village an old man who had practiced the solitary life from his youth. Antony saw him and emulated him in what was good; and at first he too began to stay in the places in front of the village. And from there, if he heard of some earnest person anywhere, he went out and sought him like a wise bee, and did not go back to his own place until he had seen him; and having received from him something like provisions for the road to virtue, he would return. Spending his beginnings there, he steadied his mind so as not to turn back to his parents’ things nor to remember his relatives, but to have all his longing and all his zeal for the intensity of discipline. He worked with his hands, having heard: “He who is idle, let him not eat”; and he spent part on bread and part on those in need. He prayed constantly, having learned that one must pray in private without ceasing. For he attended so carefully to the reading that nothing of what was written fell from him to the ground, but he retained everything, and thereafter his memory served him instead of books.

Leading himself in this way, Antony was loved by all. He himself submitted sincerely to the earnest men whom he visited, and learned for himself the particular strength of each in zeal and discipline. He observed the graciousness of one and the intensity in prayer of another; he noted the freedom from anger of one and the kindness of another; he paid attention to one as he kept vigil and to another as he loved study; he admired one for endurance, another for fasting and sleeping on the ground; he watched the gentleness of one and the long-suffering of another; and in all alike he marked the piety toward Christ and the love for one another. Filled in this way, he returned to his own place of discipline, thereafter gathering into himself what he had from each, and striving to show in himself the virtues of all. With those of his own age he was not competitive, except only that he should not appear second to them in what was better; and this he did in such a way as to grieve no one, but so that they too rejoiced over him. So all the people of the village, and the lovers of good with whom he was acquainted, seeing him thus, called him God-beloved, and welcomed him, some as a son, others as a brother.

But the devil, who hates what is good and is envious, could not bear to see such a purpose in a young man; and what he is accustomed to do, he set about doing against him too. First he tried to draw him away from his discipline, suggesting the memory of his possessions, care for his sister, the ties of family, love of money, love of glory, the varied pleasure of food, and the other relaxations of life, and finally the roughness of virtue and how great its labor is; and he suggested the weakness of the body and the length of time. In short, he raised a great dust-cloud of thoughts in his mind, wishing to cut him off from his right choice. But when the enemy saw himself weak against Antony’s purpose, and rather himself thrown down by his firmness, overturned by his great faith, and falling before Antony’s constant prayers, then, trusting in the weapons “in the navel of his belly” and boasting in them (for these are his first snares against the young), he attacked the young man, troubling him by night and so harassing him by day that even those who saw it perceived the struggle between the two. The one suggested filthy thoughts, the other overturned them by his prayers; the one tried to excite him, the other, as if blushing, fortified his body with faith, prayers, and fasts. The wretched devil even endured to take the form of a woman by night and to imitate her in every way, only to deceive Antony; but Antony, thinking of Christ and the nobility given through him, and considering the spiritual nature of the soul, quenched the coal of the enemy’s deceit. Again the enemy suggested the smoothness of pleasure; but Antony, like one angered and grieved, pondered the threat of the fire and the torment of the worm; and setting these against it, he passed through unharmed. All this happened to the shame of the enemy. For he who thought to become like God was now mocked by a youth; and he who boasted against flesh and blood was put to flight by a man who wore flesh. For the Lord worked with him, who took flesh for us and gave the body the victory over the devil …

At last, when the dragon could not overthrow Antony even in this, but saw himself thrust out of his heart, gnashing his teeth, as it is written, and as if beside himself, he appeared to him in imagination as a black boy, such as he is in mind. And as though falling down before him, he no longer attacked him with thoughts (for the crafty one had been cast out), but now using a human voice he said: “Many have I deceived, and very many have I overthrown; but now, having attacked you and your labors as I did many others, I have proved weak.” When Antony asked, “Who are you, that speak such things to me?” he at once uttered piteous cries: “I am the friend of sexual immorality; I have taken upon myself its snares and its incitements against the young, and I am called the spirit of sexual immorality. How many who wished to be chaste have I deceived! How many who practiced self-control have I won over by inciting them! I am the one on whose account the prophet blames the fallen, saying, ‘You were led astray by a spirit of sexual immorality’; for it was through me that they were tripped up. I am the one who troubled you so often and was so often overthrown by you.” Antony gave thanks to the Lord, and, taking courage against him, said to him: “You are very contemptible, then; for you are black in mind and weak as a child. I have no further care about you; for the Lord is my helper, and I shall look upon my enemies.” Hearing this, the black one at once fled, cowering at the words, and afraid even to come near the man.

This was Antony’s first contest against the devil; or rather, this success in Antony was the Savior’s, who “condemned sin in the flesh, so that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.” But neither did Antony, now that the demon had fallen, grow careless thereafter and neglect himself, nor did the enemy, as one defeated, stop lying in wait. For he went about again like a lion, seeking some occasion against him. Antony, having learned from the Scriptures that the wiles of the enemy are many, practiced his discipline intensely, reckoning that even if the enemy had not been able to deceive his heart with bodily pleasure, he would certainly try to ensnare him by some other method; for the demon loves sin. So more and more he mortified his body and kept it in subjection, lest, having conquered in some things, he should be dragged down in others. He resolved, therefore, to accustom himself to a harsher way of life. Many marveled, but he bore the labor easily; for the eagerness of his soul, persisting for a long time, produced a good habit in him, so that even when he took only a slight occasion from others, he showed great zeal for it. He kept vigil so much that he often passed the whole night without sleep; and since he did this not once but very often, he was admired. He ate once a day, after sunset; sometimes he took food every two days, and often every four. His food was bread and salt, and his drink water only. Of meat and wine it is superfluous even to speak, since nothing of the kind was found even among the other earnest men. For sleep a rush mat was enough for him; for the most part he lay on the bare ground. He refused to anoint himself with oil, saying that it was more fitting for young men to pursue discipline eagerly and not to seek what relaxes the body, but to accustom it to labors, keeping in mind the Apostle’s saying: “When I am weak, then I am strong.” For he said that the vigor of the soul is strong when the pleasures of the body are weakened. And this reasoning of his was truly remarkable: he did not think it right to measure the way of virtue, or his withdrawal for its sake, by time, but by desire and choice. He himself did not keep count of the time that had passed; but each day, as though he were only beginning his discipline, he took greater pains to advance, constantly repeating to himself Paul’s saying: “Forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead”; and remembering also the words of the prophet Elijah: “The Lord lives, before whom I stand today.” For he observed that in saying “today” Elijah was not measuring the time that had passed; but as though always making a beginning, he strove each day to present himself such as one ought to appear before God, pure in heart and ready to obey his will and no other. And he used to say to himself that the ascetic ought always to learn his own life from the conduct of the great Elijah, as in a mirror.

Bracing himself in this way, Antony went off to the tombs that lay far from the village; and having arranged with one of his acquaintances to bring him bread at intervals of many days, he entered one of the tombs, and when the other had shut the door on him, he remained alone inside. The enemy could not bear this, and feared that little by little Antony would fill the desert too with his discipline; so he came one night with a multitude of demons and beat him with such blows that he lay on the ground speechless from the torments. Antony affirmed that the pains were so severe that he could say that blows from human beings could never cause such torment. But by God’s providence (for the Lord does not overlook those who hope in him), the next day his acquaintance came, bringing him the bread; and opening the door and seeing him lying on the ground as if dead, he lifted him up, carried him to the Lord’s house in the village, and laid him on the ground. Many of his relatives and of the villagers sat around Antony as around a corpse. But about midnight Antony came to himself and woke, and when he saw them all asleep …

So he was carried back by the man, and with the door shut as usual he was again alone inside. He could not stand because of the blows, but he prayed lying down. And after his prayer he said with a shout: “Here I am, Antony; I do not flee from your blows. Even if you inflict more, nothing will separate me from the love of Christ.” Then he also sang: “Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear.” Such were the ascetic’s thoughts and words; but the enemy who hates the good, amazed that even after the blows Antony had dared to come back, called together his dogs and, bursting with rage, said: “You see that we have stopped him neither by the spirit of sexual immorality nor by blows; he is even bold against us. Let us attack him another way.” Forms for doing evil come easily to the devil. So in the night they made such a din that the whole place seemed to shake; and the demons, as though they had broken through the four walls of the little dwelling, seemed to come in through them, transformed into the appearance of beasts and creeping things. At once the place was filled with apparitions of lions, bears, leopards, bulls, snakes, asps, scorpions, and wolves; and each of them moved according to its own form. The lion roared, wanting to spring on him; the bull seemed about to gore; the snake crawled but did not reach him; the wolf rushed at him but was held back; and altogether the noises of all the apparitions together were terrible, and their fury fierce. Antony, scourged and goaded by them, felt still more terrible bodily pain; but he lay unshaken, all the more watchful in soul. He groaned because of the pain of his body, but, sober in mind and as if mocking them, he said: “If there were any power in you, it would have been enough for just one of you to come; but since the Lord has made you powerless, you try somehow to frighten me by your numbers. It is a sign of your weakness that you imitate the forms of irrational beasts.” And taking courage again he said: “If you are able, and have received power against me, do not delay, but attack; but if you are not able, why trouble yourselves in vain? For faith in our Lord is a seal and a wall of safety for us.” So after many attempts they gnashed their teeth against him, because they were making a mockery of themselves rather than of him.

But the Lord did not forget Antony’s struggle in this either, but came to help him. Looking up, he saw the roof as if opening, and a beam of light coming down to him. The demons suddenly vanished, the pain of his body ceased at once, and the building was whole again. Antony, perceiving the help, breathing more freely and relieved of his pains, entreated the vision that had appeared, saying: “Where were you? Why did you not appear at the beginning, to put an end to my pains?” And a voice came to him: “Antony, I was here, but I was waiting to see your contest. Since, then, you have endured and have not been defeated, I will always be your helper, and I will make your name known everywhere.” Hearing this, he got up and prayed; and he was so strengthened that he felt that he had more power in his body than he had before. He was then about thirty-five years old.

The next day he went out, still more eager for godliness, and coming to that old man he asked him to live in the desert with him. When the old man declined, because of his age and because there was not yet any such custom, Antony at once set out himself for the mountain. But again the enemy, seeing his zeal and wishing to hinder it, cast in his path the appearance of a large silver dish. Antony, understanding the craft of the hater of good, stood still, and looking at the dish he exposed the devil in it, saying: “Where does a dish come from in the desert? This road is not a trodden one, nor is there any trace of travelers here. If it had fallen, it could not have gone unnoticed, being so very large. Besides, the one who lost it would have turned back to look for it and found it, since the place is deserted. This is the devil’s craft. You will not hinder my eagerness by this, devil; let this go with you to destruction.” And as Antony said this, it vanished like smoke before fire.

Then again, as he went on, he saw not an apparition but real gold scattered in the road. Whether the enemy showed it to him, or some higher power was training the athlete and showing the devil that he did not care even for real wealth, Antony himself did not tell, nor do we know; we know only that what appeared was gold. Antony marveled at the quantity, but stepping over it as one steps over fire, he passed by without even turning, and even hurried on at a run, so as to hide the place from himself and lose sight of it. Intensifying his purpose more and more, he set out for the mountain. And finding on the far side of the river a deserted fort, full of creeping things because of the length of time it had been abandoned, he moved there and lived in it. The creeping things left at once, as though someone were chasing them; and he blocked up the entrance, laid up bread for six months (the Thebans do this, and often it keeps unharmed for a whole year), and, having water inside, went in as into an inner shrine and remained alone within, neither going out himself nor seeing any of those who came. So he continued a long time in this discipline, receiving bread only twice a year, let down from the roof.

Those of his acquaintances who came to him, since he did not allow them to enter, often spent days and nights outside, and they heard what sounded like crowds inside, making an uproar, banging, uttering pitiful cries and shouting: “Get away from what is ours! What have you to do with the desert? You will not withstand our attack.” At first those outside thought that there were some men fighting with him, who had got in to him by ladders; but when they peeped through a crack and saw no one, they reckoned that these were demons, and being afraid themselves they called to Antony. He heard them rather than paying attention to the demons; and coming near the door he urged the men to go away and not be afraid; for, he said, the demons create such apparitions against the fearful. “So seal yourselves and go away with courage, and let them mock themselves.” So they went away, fortified with the sign of the cross. He remained and suffered no harm from them; nor did he grow weary in the struggle; for the increase of the visions from above that came to him, and the weakness of his enemies, gave him great rest from his labors and prepared him for greater eagerness. For his acquaintances came constantly, thinking they would find him dead, and they heard him singing: “Let God arise, and let his enemies be scattered, and let those who hate him flee from his face. As smoke vanishes, let them vanish; as wax melts before the fire, so let … perish …”

For nearly twenty years he continued in this way, training himself alone, neither going out nor being seen with any regularity by anyone. After this, since many longed and wished to imitate his discipline, and other acquaintances came and broke down the door by force and pushed it in, Antony came out as though from an inner shrine, initiated into mysteries and filled with God; and then for the first time he appeared from the fort to those who came to him. When they saw him, they were amazed to see that his body was in the same condition as before, neither grown fat from lack of exercise nor wasted from fasting and fighting with demons; he was just as they had known him before his withdrawal. And the character of his soul was pure: it was neither shrunk by grief nor relaxed by pleasure, nor gripped by laughter or dejection. He was neither troubled at seeing the crowd, nor overjoyed at being greeted by so many; but he was entirely even, as one governed by reason and standing in his natural state. Through him the Lord healed many of those present who suffered in body, and cleansed others of demons. He gave Antony grace in speaking; and so he comforted many who were grieving and reconciled others who were at odds, urging everyone to prefer nothing in the world to the love of Christ. As he talked with them and urged them to remember the good things to come and the love for humanity that God has shown us, “who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all,” he persuaded many to choose the solitary life. And so from then on there came to be monasteries even in the mountains, and the desert …

When it became necessary for him to cross the canal of Arsinoe (he needed to visit the brothers), the canal was full of crocodiles. He simply prayed and went in, he and all who were with him, and they crossed unharmed. Returning to the monastery, he kept to the same holy and vigorous labors. By talking with them constantly he increased the eagerness of those who were already monks, and moved most of the others to love of the ascetic life; and quickly, as his word drew them, very many monasteries came into being, and he guided them all as a father.

One day, then, when he had gone out, and all the monks had come to him and asked to hear a word from him, he spoke to them in the Egyptian language as follows: “The Scriptures are sufficient for instruction; but it is good for us to encourage one another in the faith and to anoint one another with our words. So you, as children, bring to your father what you know; and I, as your elder in years, will share with you what I know and have experienced. Let this above all be the common zeal of all of us: having begun, not to give up, nor to lose heart in our labors, nor to say, ‘We have spent a long time in the ascetic life’; but rather, as though beginning each day, let us increase our eagerness. For the whole life of human beings is very short when measured against the ages to come, so that all our time is nothing compared with eternal life. Everything in the world is sold for what it is worth, and one exchanges like for like; but the promise of eternal life is bought for very little. For it is written: ‘The days of our life are seventy years, and if in strength, eighty years, and most of them are toil and trouble.’ When, then, we persevere in the ascetic life for the whole eighty years, or even a hundred, we shall not reign for an equal hundred years; instead of the hundred we shall reign for ages of ages. And having struggled on earth, we do not receive our inheritance on earth, but have the promises in heaven. And again, laying aside a corruptible body, we receive it back incorruptible.

So, children, let us not lose heart, nor think that we are spending a long time or doing something great. For ‘the sufferings of the present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.’ Nor, when we look at the world, let us think that we have renounced anything great; for even the whole earth is very small compared with the whole heaven. If, then, we were lords of the whole earth and renounced the whole earth, it would again be worth nothing compared with the kingdom of heaven. As someone might despise one copper drachma in order to gain a hundred gold drachmas, so he who is lord of the whole earth and renounces it gives up little and receives a hundredfold. And if the whole earth is not worth as much as heaven, then the one who has left a few arouras, as though leaving nothing, even if he leaves a house or a good deal of gold, ought not to boast or lose heart. Besides, we ought to reckon that even if we do not leave these things for virtue’s sake, we leave them afterwards when we die, often even to those we would not wish, as the Preacher recalled. Why, then, do we not leave them for virtue’s sake, so that we may also inherit a kingdom? Therefore let none of us even conceive the desire to possess. For what gain is there in possessing what we cannot take with us? Why do we not rather acquire those things which we can take with us, namely prudence, justice, self-control, courage, understanding, love, love of the poor, faith in Christ, freedom from anger, hospitality? If we acquire these, we shall find them going before us, preparing hospitality for us there, in the land of the meek.

So let each one persuade himself by such considerations not to be negligent; and especially if he reckons that he is the Lord’s servant and owes service to his master. A servant would not dare to say, ‘Since I worked yesterday, I will not work today’; nor will he measure the time that has passed and rest in the days that follow; but each day, as is written in the Gospel, he shows the same eagerness, so as to please his master and not be in danger. So let us too persevere each day in the ascetic life, knowing that if we neglect it for one day, the Lord will not pardon us for the sake of the time that has passed, but will be angry with us for our negligence. So we have heard in Ezekiel too; so too Judas, because of one night, lost the … of the time that had passed …

Let us hold fast, then, children, to the ascetic life and not grow listless. For in this we have the Lord as our fellow worker, as it is written: ‘God works together for good with everyone who chooses the good.’ And so that we may not be negligent, it is good to meditate on the Apostle’s saying, ‘I die every day.’ For if we too live as dying every day, we shall not sin. The saying means this: when we rise each day, we should think that we will not survive until evening; and again, when we are about to sleep, we should think that we will not rise, since our life is by nature uncertain and is measured out to us day by day by Providence. Disposed in this way and living in this way each day, we shall neither sin, nor desire anything, nor bear a grudge against anyone, nor store up treasure on earth; but as people who expect to die each day, we shall be without possessions and forgive everyone everything. Desire for a woman or for any other filthy pleasure we shall not entertain at all, but shall turn away from it as something that passes, always struggling and looking ahead to the day of judgment. For the greater fear and the dread of torments always dissolve the smoothness of pleasure and raise up the soul when it is falling.

Since, then, we have begun and have already set out on the road of virtue, let us strain forward all the more, so as to reach what lies ahead. And let no one turn back, like Lot’s wife, especially since the Lord has said: ‘No one who puts his hand to the plow and turns back is fit for the kingdom of heaven.’ To turn back is nothing other than to change one’s mind and to think worldly thoughts again. Do not be afraid when you hear about virtue, nor be astonished at the word; for it is not far from us, nor does it come into being outside us; the work is within us, and the thing is easy, if only we will it. The Greeks travel abroad and cross the sea to learn letters; but we have no need to travel abroad for the kingdom of heaven, nor to cross the sea for virtue. For the Lord has told us beforehand: ‘The kingdom of heaven is within you.’ Virtue, then, needs only our will, since it is in us and arises from us. For virtue exists when the soul keeps its intellectual part in its natural state. And it is in its natural state when it remains as it was made; and it was made beautiful and exceedingly straight. That is why Joshua son of Nun, giving charge to the people, said: ‘Make your heart straight toward the Lord God of Israel’; and John said: ‘Make your paths straight.’ For the soul’s being straight is this: its intellectual part being in its natural state, as it was created. When, on the other hand, it turns aside and becomes distorted from its natural state, then this is called vice of the soul. So the thing is not difficult; for if we remain as we were made, we are in virtue; but if we think evil thoughts, we are judged as evil. If, then, the thing had to be procured from outside, it would truly be difficult; but since it is in us, let us guard ourselves from filthy thoughts, and as people who have received a deposit, let us keep it …

Let it be our struggle that anger may not tyrannize over us nor desire master us. For it is written: ‘The anger of man does not work the righteousness of God’; and ‘desire, when it has conceived, gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, brings forth death.’ Living in this way, let us keep sober and safe, and, as it is written, ‘keep our heart with all vigilance.’ For we have terrible and crafty enemies, the evil demons; and against them is our wrestling, as the Apostle said: ‘not against blood and flesh, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world-rulers of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.’ Great is their crowd in the air around us, and they are not far from us; and there is great difference among them. About their nature and their differences there would be much to say, and such an account belongs to others greater than we are; what is urgent and necessary for us now is only to know their wiles against us.

First, then, let us know this: the demons were not made as what they are now called, demons; for God made nothing evil. They too were made good; but having fallen from the heavenly wisdom, and rolling about the earth ever since, they deceived the Greeks with apparitions; and envying us Christians, they set everything in motion, wishing to hinder our ascent to heaven, so that we may not go up to the place from which they fell. Therefore there is need of much prayer and discipline, so that one may receive through the Spirit the gift of discernment of spirits and be able to know what concerns them: which of them are less wicked, and which more wicked than the others; to what pursuit each of them gives its zeal; and how each of them is overthrown and cast out. For their tricks and the movements of their plotting are many. The blessed Apostle and those with him knew such things, saying: ‘For we are not ignorant of his designs’; and we, from what we have experienced at their hands, ought to … one another from them …

These demons, then, if they see all Christians, and especially monks, toiling and making progress, first attack and tempt them, setting stumbling-blocks near the path; and their stumbling-blocks are evil thoughts. But we must not fear their suggestions; for by prayers and fasting and faith in the Lord they fall at once. Yet even when they have fallen they do not stop, but come again, craftily and deceitfully. For when they cannot deceive the heart by open and filthy pleasure, they attack again in another way, and now, fashioning apparitions, they pretend to frighten us, transforming themselves and imitating women, wild beasts, creeping things, huge bodies, and multitudes of soldiers. But not even so must we fear their apparitions; for they are nothing, and they quickly vanish, especially if one fortifies himself with faith and the sign of the cross. They are bold and utterly shameless. For if they are defeated even in this way, they attack again in another. They pretend to prophesy and to foretell what will come days later, and they show themselves tall enough to reach the roof and broad in size, so that those whom they could not deceive by thoughts they may snatch away by such apparitions … they bring in their ruler.

He said that they often appear like the devil as the Lord revealed him to Job, saying: ‘His eyes are like the appearance of the morning star. From his mouth go forth burning lamps, and hearths of fire are cast about; from his nostrils goes forth the smoke of a furnace burning with a fire of coals. His breath is coals, and a flame goes forth from his mouth.’ Appearing in this form, the prince of the demons frightens people, as I said before, the crafty one speaking great things, as the Lord again exposed him, saying to Job: ‘He counts iron as straw, and bronze as rotten wood; he counts the sea as an ointment-pot, and the tartarus of the abyss as a captive; he reckons the abyss a place to walk’; and through the prophet: ‘The enemy said, I will pursue and overtake’; and again through another: ‘I will seize the whole world in my hand like a nest, and I will take it up like eggs that are left.’ In short, they try to boast of such things and make such promises, so as to deceive the godly. But not even so must we, the faithful, fear his apparitions or pay attention to his voice. For he lies, and speaks nothing true at all. Indeed, though he speaks such and so many things and is so bold, he was drawn out with a hook by the Savior like a dragon; like a beast of burden he took a halter about his nostrils; like a runaway slave he has his nostrils bound with a ring and his lips pierced with a bracelet. He has been bound by the Lord like a sparrow, to be mocked by us; and he and the demons with him are set like scorpions and snakes, to be trodden underfoot by us Christians. A proof of this is that we now live in opposition to him. For see, he who promised to wipe out the sea and to seize the world cannot now stop your discipline, nor even me as I speak against him. Let us not attend, then, to whatever he may say (for he lies), nor fear his apparitions, since they too are false. For it is not true light that appears in them; rather, they carry the preludes and images of the fire prepared for them; and with the very things in which they are to be burned, they try to frighten people. They appear, and at once vanish again, having harmed none of the faithful, bearing …

They are crafty and ready to change and transform themselves into anything. Often, at any rate, without appearing, they pretend to sing psalms, and they recite words from the Scriptures; and sometimes, when we are reading, they at once repeat over and over, like an echo, the very things that were read. They rouse us from sleep to prayer, and do this constantly, scarcely letting us sleep at all. Sometimes, too, shaping themselves into the forms of monks, they pretend to speak like devout men, so that by the likeness of their appearance they may lead people astray and then drag those they have deceived wherever they wish. But we must not pay attention to them, even if they rouse us to prayer, even if they counsel us not to eat at all, even if they pretend to accuse and reproach us for things they once excused in us. For they do this not for the sake of devotion or of truth, but to bring the simple to despair, to call the ascetic life useless, to make people loathe the solitary life as burdensome and very heavy, and to hinder those who live in opposition to them.

The prophet sent by the Lord pronounced such beings wretched, saying: ‘Woe to him who gives his neighbor to drink a muddy overthrow.’ For such practices and thoughts overthrow the road that leads to virtue. And the Lord himself, even though the demons spoke the truth (for they did speak truly when they said, ‘You are the Son of God’), nevertheless muzzled them and forbade them to speak, lest along with the truth they should also sow their own wickedness, and to accustom us never to pay attention to such beings, even if they seem to speak the truth. For it is unfitting that we, who have the holy Scriptures and the freedom given us by the Savior, should be taught by the devil, who did not keep his own rank but turned his mind to one thing instead of another. That is why he forbids him even when he speaks the words of the Scriptures, saying: ‘But to the sinner God said: Why do you recite my statutes, and take my covenant in your mouth?’ For they do everything, they speak, make an uproar, pretend, and act, to deceive the simple. They make banging noises, laugh senselessly, and hiss; … they weep and lament as if defeated.

The Lord, then, as God, muzzled the demons; but we, having learned from the saints, ought to act toward them as the saints did and imitate their courage. For they too, seeing these things, said: ‘When the sinner stood against me, I was mute and humbled, and kept silent even from good things’; and again: ‘But I, like a deaf man, did not hear, and was like a mute who does not open his mouth; and I became like a man who does not hear.’ So let us neither listen to them, since they are strangers to us, nor obey them, even if they rouse us to prayer, even if they speak about fasting; but let us rather attend to our own purpose in the ascetic life, and not be deceived by them, since they do everything with guile. We must not fear them, even if they seem to attack us, even if they threaten death; for they are weak and can do nothing but threaten.

I have already spoken of this in passing; but now I must not shrink from speaking about them more fully, for the reminder will make you safe. Since the Lord came, the enemy has fallen and his powers have grown weak. That is why, though he can do nothing, he still does not keep quiet even after his fall, but like a tyrant he threatens, even if only in words. Let each of you reckon this, and he will be able to despise the demons. If they were bound in bodies such as ours, they could say: ‘We do not find people when they hide, but when we find them we harm them’; and we too could hide and escape them by shutting the doors against them. But they are not like this: they can come in when the doors are shut, and they are in all the air, they and their chief, the devil; they are malevolent and ready to harm; and, as the Savior said, the father of wickedness, the devil, is a murderer from the beginning. Yet we are alive now, and indeed we live in opposition to him; so it is clear that they have no strength. For no place hinders them from plotting, nor do they regard us as their friends so as to spare us, nor are they lovers of good so as to correct us; on the contrary they are wicked, and nothing is so dear to them as harming those who love virtue and revere God. But because they can do nothing, they do nothing but threaten; for if they could, they would not delay, but would at once carry out their evil, since their will is ready for it, especially against us. See, here we have come together and are speaking against them, and they know that as we advance they grow weak. If, then, they had the authority, they would not have let a single one of us Christians live; for ‘godliness is an abomination to a sinner.’ But since they can do nothing, they wound themselves all the more, because they can do none of the things they threaten. Next, one must also consider this, so as not to fear them: if they had the power, they would not come with a crowd, nor make apparitions, nor use tricks by transforming themselves; it would be enough for one alone to come and do what he can and wills. Above all, anyone who has authority does not kill by means of apparitions nor frighten with crowds, but at once uses his authority as he wishes. But the demons, being able to do nothing, play as though on a stage, changing their forms and frightening children with the appearance of crowds and with their shapes; and for this reason they ought rather to be despised as weak. The true angel, at any rate, sent by the Lord against the Assyrians, had no need of crowds, nor of outward apparitions, nor of banging or clattering; he quietly used his authority and slew …

If anyone, considering the story of Job, should say, ‘Why then did the devil go out and do everything against him, stripping him of his possessions, killing his children, and striking him with an evil sore?’ let such a person know in turn that it was not the devil who had the strength, but God who handed Job over to him to be tested. Indeed, being able to do nothing himself, the devil asked, and having received permission, he did what he did. So from this too the enemy is all the more to be condemned, because, though he wished it, he could not prevail even against one righteous man; for if he had been able, he would not have asked. And by asking not once but a second time, he is shown to be weak and able to do nothing. And it is no wonder that he did not prevail against Job, when destruction did not come even upon his cattle unless God had permitted it. He does not even have authority over pigs; for, as it is written in the Gospel, the demons begged the Lord, saying, ‘Let us go into the pigs.’ And if they do not have authority even over pigs, much less do they have it over human beings made in the image of God.

God alone, then, must be feared, while these must be despised and not dreaded at all. Indeed, the more they do these things, the more let us intensify our discipline against them. For an upright life and faith in God are a great weapon against them. They fear the ascetics’ fasting, vigils, prayers, gentleness, quietness, freedom from love of money and from vainglory, humility, love of the poor, almsgiving, freedom from anger, and above all their piety toward Christ. That is why they do everything they do, so as not to have people who trample them underfoot. For they know the grace given to the faithful against them by the Savior, who said: ‘Behold, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy.’

If, then, they pretend to foretell the future, let no one pay attention. For often they tell days beforehand of brothers who will arrive days later; and those brothers do come. They do this not out of care for those who hear, but to persuade them to trust them, and then, once they have them in their power, to destroy them. Therefore one must not attend to them, but even when they speak one must refute them, since we have no need of them. For what wonder is it if, using bodies finer than those of human beings, and having seen people who have set out on a journey, they outrun them and announce their coming? A man on horseback can also foretell this, outrunning the one who goes on foot; so we should not marvel at them for this either. For they foreknow nothing of what has not yet happened; God alone is the one who knows all things before they come to be. These, like thieves, run ahead and report what they see. How many of them are even now reporting our affairs, that we have met and are speaking against them, before any of us has gone off to tell it! A swift-running boy could do this too, outrunning a slower one. What I mean is this: if someone begins to walk from the Thebaid or from some other region, before he begins to walk they do not know whether he will walk; but having seen him walking, they run ahead, and before he arrives they announce him; and so it happens that he arrives days later. But often, when the travelers turn back, they have lied.

So too they sometimes babble about the river’s water. For having seen heavy rains falling in the regions of Ethiopia, and knowing that the river’s flood comes from them, they run ahead and tell of it before the water reaches Egypt. Human beings too would have said this, if they could run as fast as they do. And as David’s watchman, going up to a height, saw the man coming sooner than the one who stayed below; and as the runner himself told it before the others, not things that had not happened, but things already on the way and happening; so these too choose to take the trouble and signal it to others, only to deceive them. But if Providence meanwhile decides something different about the waters or the travelers (for it is free to do so), the demons have lied, and those who heeded them have been deceived.

In this way the oracles of the Greeks were set up, and in this way people were formerly led astray by the demons; but even so the error has now come to an end. For the Lord has come, who brought the demons to nothing along with their very craftiness. For they know nothing of themselves; but like thieves they pass on what they see among others, and they are guessers rather than foreknowers. Therefore, even if they sometimes say true things of this kind, let no one admire them for it. For physicians too, who have experience of diseases, when they see the same disease in others, often foretell its course, guessing from experience. Helmsmen and farmers, again, seeing the state of the sky from experience, foretell either a storm or fair weather; and no one would say for that reason that they foretell by divine inspiration, but from experience and practice. So even if the demons sometimes say the same things by guessing, let no one admire them for it, or heed them. For what use is it to the hearers to know from them days beforehand what is coming? Or what zeal should there be to know such things, even if one knows them truly? For this does not produce virtue, nor is it at all a mark of good character. None of us is judged for what he does not know, and no one is called blessed because he has learned and known; but each one will be judged on this: whether he has kept the faith and truly guarded the commandments.

Therefore we must not make much of these things, nor practice discipline and toil for their sake, in order to foreknow, but in order to please God by living well. And we must pray, not in order to foreknow, nor ask for this as the reward of our discipline, but that the Lord may be our fellow worker for victory over the devil. But if we do care at all about foreknowing, let us be pure in mind. For I believe that a soul pure in every way and standing in its natural state can, having become clear-sighted, see more and farther than the demons, since it has the Lord to reveal things to it; such was the soul of Elisha, which saw what Gehazi had done and beheld the powers standing beside him.

When, then, they come to you by night and wish to tell you the future, or say, ‘We are the angels,’ pay no attention, for they lie. And if they praise your discipline and call you blessed, do not listen to them, nor pay them any regard at all; rather, seal yourselves and the house, and pray; and you will see them vanish. For they are cowards and are greatly afraid of the sign of the Lord’s cross, since by it the Savior stripped them and made an example of them. And if they stand their ground more shamelessly, dancing about and changing their apparitions, do not be afraid or cower, nor attend to them as though they were good. For it is easy and possible, when God grants it, to distinguish the presence of the good from that of the evil. The vision of the holy ones is not turbulent; for ‘he will not quarrel nor cry out, nor will anyone hear his voice.’ It comes so quietly and gently that at once joy, gladness, and courage arise in the soul; for the Lord is with them, who is our joy and the power of God the Father; and the soul’s thoughts remain untroubled and calm, so that, illumined by them, it beholds those who appear. For a longing for divine things and for the things to come enters it, and it would wish to be wholly joined to them, if it could depart with them. And if some, being human, are afraid of the vision of the good ones, those who appear at once take away the fear by love, as Gabriel did for Zechariah, and the angel who appeared to the women at the divine tomb, and the one who said to the shepherds in the Gospel, ‘Do not be afraid.’ For their fear comes not from cowardice of soul but from recognizing the presence of higher beings. Such, then, is the vision of the holy ones.

But the assault and apparition of the evil ones is turbulent, with banging, din, and shouting, like the movement of undisciplined youths and robbers. From this at once arise cowardice of soul, confusion and disorder of thoughts, dejection, hatred of ascetics, listlessness, grief, memory of one’s family, fear of death, and then desire for evil things, neglect of virtue, and instability of character. When, then, you see something and are afraid: if the fear is at once taken away, and in its place comes unspeakable joy, cheerfulness, courage, recovery, untroubled thoughts, and the other things I mentioned, courage and love toward God, take heart and pray; for the joy and the settled state of the soul show the holiness of the one who is present. So Abraham rejoiced when he saw the Lord; and John leaped for joy when the voice of Mary, the Mother of God, came to him. But if, when some beings appear, there is confusion, banging from outside, worldly apparition, threats of death, and the other things I mentioned, know that it is an attack of the evil ones.

Let this too be a sign for you: whenever the soul remains fearful, it is the presence of the enemies. For the demons do not take away the fear of such people, as the great archangel Gabriel did for Mary and Zechariah, and the one who appeared at the tomb did for the women; on the contrary, when they see people afraid, they increase their apparitions so as to terrify them more; and then they attack and mock them, saying: ‘Fall down and worship.’ So they deceived the Greeks; for in this way they came to be regarded among them as gods, falsely so called. But the Lord did not let us be deceived by the devil; for when the devil made such apparitions against him, he rebuked him, saying: ‘Get behind me, Satan; for it is written, You shall worship the Lord your God, and him only shall you serve.’ More and more, then, let the crafty one be despised by us for these reasons; for what the Lord said … the Lord, who rebuked them with these words.

We must not boast of casting out demons, nor be puffed up by healings; nor should we admire only the one who casts out demons and despise the one who does not. Rather, let each person learn the ascetic life of every other, and either imitate and emulate it or correct it. For working signs is not ours to do; it is the Savior’s work. He said to his disciples: ‘Do not rejoice that the demons are subject to you, but that your names are written in heaven.’ For to have our names written in heaven is a testimony to our virtue and our life; but to cast out demons is a grace of the Savior who gave it. Therefore to those who boasted not in virtue but in signs, and said, ‘Lord, did we not cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ he answered: ‘Truly I say to you, I do not know you.’ For the Lord does not know the ways of the ungodly. In general one must pray, as I said before, to receive the gift of discernment of spirits, so that, as it is written, we may not believe every spirit.

I wanted to keep silent and say nothing of my own, but to be content with these words alone. But so that you may not think I am saying these things idly, but may believe that I recount them from experience and truth, for this reason, even if I become a fool, the Lord who hears knows the purity of my conscience, and that it is not for my own sake but for the sake of your love and encouragement that I tell again what I have seen of the demons’ practices. How often they called me blessed, and I cursed them in the name of the Lord! How often they foretold the rising of the river, and I said to them: ‘And what is that to you?’ Once they came threatening and surrounded me like soldiers in full armor. Another time they filled the house with horses, wild beasts, and creeping things; and I sang: ‘Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we will be magnified in the name of the Lord our God’; and at my prayers they were routed by the Lord. Once they came in darkness, with the appearance of light, and said: ‘We have come to give you light, Antony.’ But I shut my eyes and prayed, and at once the light of the ungodly was quenched. A few months later they came as if singing psalms and speaking from the Scriptures; ‘but I, like a deaf man, did not hear.’ Once they shook the monastery; but I prayed, remaining unmoved in mind. And after this they came again, clapping, hissing, and dancing. But as I prayed, and lay singing psalms to myself, at once they began to lament and weep as though their strength had failed; and I glorified the Lord, who brought down their daring and their madness and made an example of them.

Once a demon appeared, very tall, with an apparition, and dared to say: ‘I am the power of God,’ and ‘I am providence; what do you wish me to give you?’ But then I blew upon him all the more, naming Christ, and tried to strike him; and I seemed to have struck him, and at once that huge figure vanished, with all his demons, at the name of Christ. Once, when I was fasting, the crafty one came like a monk, with an apparition of loaves, and counseled me, saying: ‘Eat, and rest from your many labors; you too are a man and are going to fall ill.’ But I, perceiving his trickery, got up to pray; and he could not bear it, for he vanished and was seen going out through the door like smoke. How often in the desert he showed me an apparition of gold, only so that I might touch it and look at it! But I sang psalms against him, and he melted away. Often they beat me with blows, and I said: ‘Nothing will separate me from the love of Christ’; and after that they rather beat one another. It was not I who stopped them and brought them to nothing, but the Lord, who said: ‘I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven.’ And I, children, remembering the apostolic saying, have applied these things to myself, so that you may learn not to lose heart in the ascetic life nor to fear the apparitions of the devil and his demons.

And since I have become a fool in telling these things, receive this too for your safety and freedom from fear; and believe me, for I do not lie. Once someone knocked at my door in the monastery; and going out, I saw someone appearing very large and tall. When I asked, ‘Who are you?’ he said, ‘I am Satan.’ When I then said, ‘Why are you here?’ he said: ‘Why do the monks and all the other Christians blame me for nothing? Why do they curse me every hour?’ When I said, ‘Why then do you trouble them?’ he said: ‘It is not I who trouble them; they trouble themselves; for I have become weak. Have they not read that the swords of the enemy have failed utterly, and you have destroyed cities? I no longer have a place, nor a dart, nor a city. Everywhere there are Christians; and now even the desert is filled with monks. Let them guard themselves and not curse me for nothing.’ Then, marveling at the grace of the Lord, I said to him: ‘Though you are always a liar and never speak the truth, yet this time, even against your will, you have spoken the truth; for Christ by his coming has made you weak, and has cast you down and stripped you bare.’ When he heard the Savior’s name, he could not bear its burning, and vanished.

If, then, the devil himself confesses that he can do nothing, we ought to despise him and his demons completely. The enemy with his dogs has all these tricks; but we, having learned their weakness, are able to despise them. In this way, then, let us not be cast down beforehand in our minds, nor entertain cowardice in our souls, nor fashion fears for ourselves, saying: ‘What if a demon comes and overthrows me? What if he lifts me up and hurls me down, or suddenly appears and throws me into confusion?’ Let us not think such things at all, nor grieve as though we were perishing; but let us rather take courage and always rejoice, as those who are being saved; and let us reckon in our souls that the Lord is with us, who routed them and brought them to nothing. And let us always consider and bear in mind that while the Lord is with us, our enemies will do us no harm. For when they come, they become toward us just such as they find us, and they shape their apparitions to match the thoughts they find in us. If, then, they find us afraid and troubled, at once, like robbers who find a place unguarded, they attack; and what we were thinking of ourselves, they do with additions. For if they see us fearful and cowardly, they increase our cowardice still more with apparitions and threats, and thereafter the wretched soul is punished by these things. But if they find us rejoicing in the Lord, thinking about the good things to come, pondering the things of the Lord, and reasoning that all things are in the Lord’s hand, and that a demon has no strength against a Christian, nor any authority at all against anyone, then, seeing the soul made safe by such thoughts, they turn away in shame. So the enemy, seeing Job fenced about, withdrew from him; but finding Judas stripped of these defenses, he took him captive. So if we wish to despise the enemy, let us always think about the things of the Lord, and let the soul always rejoice in hope; and we shall see the demons’ games vanish like smoke, and the demons fleeing rather than pursuing. For they are, as I said before, very cowardly, always expecting the fire prepared for them.

And for freedom from fear of them, keep this test among yourselves: when some apparition occurs, do not fall down beforehand in cowardice, but whatever it may be, first ask with courage: ‘Who are you, and where do you come from?’ If it is a vision of holy ones, they will reassure you and change your fear into joy; but if it is something of the devil, it at once grows weak, seeing your mind strong. For simply to ask, ‘Who are you, and where are you from?’ is a sign of calmness. So the son of Nun learned by asking; and the enemy did not escape Daniel’s notice when he asked.

While Antony was speaking of these things, all rejoiced: in some the love of virtue increased, in others negligence was cast out, in others conceit was stopped; and all were persuaded to despise the plotting of the demons, marveling at the grace given by the Lord to Antony for the discernment of spirits. So the monasteries in the mountains were like tents filled with divine choirs of people singing psalms, studying, fasting, praying, rejoicing in the hope of the things to come, working in order to give alms, and keeping love and harmony with one another. One could truly see, as it were, a land apart, a land of godliness and righteousness. For there was no one there who did wrong or suffered wrong, nor any complaint about the tax-collector; but a multitude of ascetics, and in all of them one mind set on virtue. So anyone who saw the monasteries again, and such order among the monks, would cry out and say: ‘How fair are your houses, O Jacob, your tents, O Israel! Like shady glens, and like a garden by a river, and like tents which the Lord pitched, and like cedars beside the waters.’

He himself, however, would withdraw alone as usual into his own monastery and intensify his discipline. Every day he sighed, thinking of the dwelling-places in heaven, longing for them, and considering how short-lived human life is. For when he was about to eat and sleep and attend to the other needs of the body, he was ashamed, thinking of the spiritual nature of the soul. Often, at any rate, when he was about to eat with many other monks, he remembered the spiritual food, excused himself, and went far away from them, thinking he would blush if he were seen eating by others. He ate, however, by himself because of the body’s need, and often also with the brothers, ashamed in these things, but speaking freely in words that would benefit them. And he said that one ought to give all one’s leisure to the soul rather than to the body, and to grant a little time to the body because of necessity, but to devote the whole rather to the soul and to seek its benefit, so that the soul may not be dragged down by the pleasures of the body, but the body rather be brought into subjection by the soul. For this, he said, is what the Savior meant: ‘Do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will put on. And do not seek what you will eat or what you will drink, and do not be in suspense; for all the nations of the world seek after all these things. But your Father knows that you need all these things. Seek first his kingdom, and all these things will be added to you.’

After this the persecution that took place at that time under Maximin overtook the church. When the holy martyrs were being led to Alexandria, he too left his monastery and followed, saying: ‘Let us go too, so that we may contend if we are called, or else watch those who are contending.’ He longed to be martyred; but not wishing to hand himself over, he ministered to the confessors in the mines and in the prisons. He was very zealous in the court, stirring up to eagerness those who were called as they contended, and receiving those who were being martyred and escorting them until they were perfected. The judge, then, seeing the fearlessness of Antony and of those with him, and their zeal in this, ordered that none of the monks should appear in the court, nor stay in the city at all. All the others decided to hide that day; but Antony paid so little heed that he even washed his upper garment, and the next day stood in front in a raised place and showed himself plainly to the governor. While all marveled at this, and the governor saw him as he passed by with his escort, he stood unshaken, showing the eagerness of us Christians; for he too prayed to be martyred, as I said before. He seemed grieved that he had not been martyred; but the Lord was guarding him for our benefit and for that of others, so that he might become a teacher to many in the ascetic life which he himself had learned from the Scriptures. For many, simply by seeing his conduct, became eager to emulate his way of life. So again he ministered as usual to the confessors, and toiled in serving them as though he were in chains with them.

When at last the persecution ceased, and the blessed bishop Peter had been martyred, he departed and withdrew again to his monastery; and there he was daily a martyr in his conscience, contending in the struggles of faith. For he practiced a great and still more intense discipline: he fasted continually, and his clothing was of hair inside and of skin outside, which he kept until his death. He never bathed his body with water to remove dirt, nor washed his feet at all, nor even allowed himself to put them in water without necessity. No one ever saw him undressed, nor did anyone ever see Antony’s body naked, except when he died and was buried.

When he had withdrawn and had resolved to spend a time neither going out himself nor receiving anyone, a certain Martinian, a military officer, came and troubled Antony; for he had a daughter troubled by a demon. As he remained a long time knocking at the door and begging him to come out and pray to God for his child, Antony would not consent to open, but leaning out from above he said: ‘Man, why do you cry out to me? I too am a man, as you are. But if you believe in Christ, whom I serve, go, and pray to God as you believe, and it will be done.’ At once he believed, called upon Christ, and went away with his daughter cleansed of the demon. And the Lord did many other things through him, the Lord who said: ‘Ask, and it will be given to you.’ For very many of the sufferers, though he did not open his door, merely slept outside the monastery, and by believing and praying sincerely they were cleansed.

When he saw that he was troubled by many and not allowed to withdraw as he wished, he was afraid that, because of the things the Lord was doing through him, either he himself might become proud, or someone else might think of him more highly than he deserved; so he considered the matter and set out to go up to the Upper Thebaid, among people who did not know him. Having received bread from the brothers, he sat by the banks of the river, watching to see whether a boat would pass, so that he might embark and go up with those on board. While he was considering these things, a voice came to him from above: ‘Antony, where are you going, and why?’ He was not troubled, but, as one accustomed to being called in this way, he listened and answered: ‘Since the crowds do not let me be quiet, I want to go up to the Upper Thebaid, because of the many disturbances that come upon me here, and especially because they ask me for things beyond my power.’ The voice said to him: ‘Even if you go up to the Thebaid, or, as you are thinking, go down to the Bucolia, you will have to endure more labor, twice as much. But if you really wish to be quiet, go now into the inner desert.’ When Antony said, ‘And who will show me the way? For I do not know it,’ the voice at once showed him some Saracens who were about to travel that road. So Antony went up and approached them, and asked to go with them into the desert. They welcomed him eagerly, as though at the command of Providence; and having traveled three days and three nights with them, he came to a very high mountain. Below the mountain was water, very clear, sweet, and very cold; outside there was a plain, and a few neglected date palms.

Antony, as though prompted by God, loved the place; for this was the place indicated by the one who had spoken to him on the banks of the river. At first, having received bread from his fellow travelers, he remained alone on the mountain, with no one else with him; for he recognized it as his own home and kept that place from then on. The Saracens themselves, seeing Antony’s eagerness, purposely traveled that road and gladly brought him bread; and he also had the small and humble comfort of the palms. Later, when the brothers learned where he was, they took care, like children remembering their father, to send him supplies. But Antony, seeing that some were put to trouble there on account of the bread and endured hardship, and sparing the monks in this too, took counsel with himself and asked some of those who came to him to bring him a hoe, an axe, and a little grain. When these were brought, he went over the land around the mountain, found a very small place that was suitable, and cultivated it; and having abundant water from the spring, he sowed it. Doing this every year, he had his bread from there, rejoicing that he would be a trouble to no one on this account, and that in all things he kept himself from being a burden. But afterwards, seeing that people were coming again, he also grew a few vegetables, so that the visitor might have some small refreshment after the labor of that hard road. At first the wild beasts in the desert, coming for the water, often damaged his seed and his cultivation; but he gently caught one of the beasts and said to them all: ‘Why do you harm me, when I harm none of you?’ … the command, they no longer came near the place.

He, then, was alone on the inner mountain, devoting himself to prayer and discipline; and the brothers who served him asked that they might come every few months and bring him olives, pulses, and oil; for he was now old. How many struggles he endured while living there, ‘not against blood and flesh,’ as it is written, but against the opposing demons, we learned from those who visited him. For there too they heard uproars, many voices, and clashing as of weapons; they saw the mountain at night full of wild beasts; and they saw him fighting as though against visible foes, and praying against them. Those who came to him he encouraged, while he himself contended, bending his knees and praying to the Lord. And it was truly worthy of wonder that, alone in such a desert, he was neither terrified when the demons assailed him, nor, though there were so many four-footed beasts and creeping things there, did he fear their savagery; but truly, as it is written, he trusted in the Lord like Mount Zion, with a mind unshaken and calm, so that instead the demons fled, and the wild beasts, as it is written, were at peace with him.

The devil, as David sings, watched Antony and gnashed his teeth at him; but Antony was comforted by the Savior, remaining unharmed by his craft and his varied wiles. Once, when he was keeping vigil at night, the devil let loose wild beasts on him; nearly all the hyenas in that desert came out of their dens and surrounded him, and he was in the middle. As each one gaped and threatened to bite, he perceived the enemy’s craft and said to them all: ‘If you have received authority over me, I am ready to be eaten by you; but if you have been sent by demons, do not delay, but go away; for I am a servant of Christ.’ As Antony said this, they fled, as though driven by the whip of his word.

Then a few days later, as he was working (for he took care to labor too), someone standing at the door pulled the thread of his work; for he was weaving baskets, and gave them to those who came to him in return for what they brought him. He got up and saw a beast, like a man as far as the thighs, but with legs and feet like those of an ass. Antony simply sealed himself and said: ‘I am a servant of Christ; if you have been sent against me, here I am.’ And the beast, together with its demons, fled so fast that in its haste it fell and died. The beast’s death was the fall of the demons. For they were striving to do everything to drive him down from the desert, and they did not prevail.

Once, when the monks asked him to come down to them and visit them and their places after a long time, he set out with the monks who had come to meet him; and a camel carried their bread and water for them. For that whole desert is waterless, and there is no drinkable water at all except on that mountain alone, where his monastery is and from which they had drawn water. When the water ran out on the road, and the heat was extreme, they were all in danger. For having gone around the area and found no water, they could no longer even walk, but lay on the ground, and they let the camel go, despairing of themselves. The old man, seeing them all in danger, was very grieved and groaned; and going a little way from them, he bent his knees, stretched out his hands, and prayed. At once the Lord made water come out where he had stood praying; and so they all drank and revived. Filling their skins, they looked for the camel and found it; for the rope had happened to get wound around a stone, and so it had been held fast. Leading it back and watering it, they put the skins on it and traveled on unharmed. When he came to the outer monasteries, they all greeted him, looking on him as a father. And he, as though bringing provisions from the mountain, entertained them with his words and shared the benefit with them. Again there was joy in the mountains, zeal for progress, and encouragement through their common faith. He himself rejoiced too, seeing the eagerness of the monks, and his sister, grown old in virginity and herself also leading other virgins.

A few days later he went back to the mountain; and from then on many came to him, and others who were suffering dared to come in. To all the monks who came to him he constantly gave this charge: to believe in the Lord and love him; to guard themselves from filthy thoughts and fleshly pleasures, and, as it is written in Proverbs, not to be led astray by the filling of the belly; to flee vainglory; to pray constantly; to sing psalms before and after sleep; to learn by heart the commandments in the Scriptures; and to remember the deeds of the saints, so that the soul, reminded by the commandments, may be shaped by zeal to imitate them. Above all he counseled them to meditate constantly on the Apostle’s saying, ‘Do not let the sun go down on your anger,’ and to regard this as said of every commandment alike, so that the sun should go down not only on our anger but on no other sin of ours either. For it is good and necessary that neither the sun should condemn us for a sin committed by day, nor the moon for a sin by night, or even for a thought. So that this may be preserved in us, it is good to hear and keep the Apostle’s words; for he says: ‘Examine yourselves, and test yourselves.’ Each day, then, let each one take account with himself of his actions by day and by night; and if he has sinned, let him stop; if he has not sinned, let him not boast, but persevere in the good, and not be negligent, nor condemn his neighbor, nor justify himself, as the blessed apostle Paul said, until the Lord comes who searches out what is hidden. For often we are not aware even of ourselves in what we do; we do not know, but the Lord comprehends all things. So let us leave the judgment to him, suffer with one another, bear one another’s burdens, examine ourselves, and be eager to make up what we lack. And let this too be a safeguard against sinning: let each of us note down and write our actions and the movements of our soul, as though we were going to report them to one another; and be confident that, being ashamed to have them known, we shall stop sinning and even thinking anything evil at all. For who wants to be seen when he is sinning? Or who, having sinned, does not rather lie, wishing to escape notice? As, then, we would not commit sexual immorality while watching one another, so, if we write down our thoughts as though reporting them to one another, we shall guard ourselves the better from filthy thoughts, ashamed to have them known. Let the writing, then, take the place of the eyes of our fellow ascetics, so that, blushing to write as though we were being seen, we may not even think of evil things at all. Shaping ourselves in this way, we shall be able to bring the body into subjection, to please the Lord, and to trample on the wiles of the enemy.

These were the charges he gave to those who came to him; with those who suffered he suffered and prayed, and often, in many cases, the Lord heard him. He neither boasted when he was heard, nor murmured when he was not; but he always gave thanks to the Lord, and urged the sufferers to be patient and to know that healing belongs neither to him nor to any human being at all, but to God alone, who brings it about when he wills and for those he wishes. So the sufferers received even the old man’s words as healing, learning for their part not to lose heart but rather to be patient; and those who were healed were taught to give thanks not to Antony but to God alone.

A certain Fronto, who belonged to the Palace, had a terrible affliction: he was biting his own tongue to pieces, and his eyes were in danger of being damaged. He came to the mountain and asked Antony to pray for him. Antony prayed and said to Fronto: ‘Go, and you will be healed.’ When he insisted and stayed inside for days, Antony persisted, saying: ‘You cannot be healed if you stay here. Go out, and when you reach Egypt you will see the sign that is done for you.’ He believed and went out; and as soon as he came in sight of Egypt, his affliction ceased, and the man was made well, according to the word of Antony, which Antony had learned from the Savior in prayer.

A virgin from Busiris in Tripolis had a terrible and very loathsome affliction: her tears, the mucus from her nose, and the fluid from her ears became worms as soon as they fell to the ground; her body was paralyzed, and her eyes were abnormal. When her parents learned that some monks were going to Antony, they believed in the Lord who healed the woman with the flow of blood, and asked to travel with them, together with their daughter. The monks agreed, and the parents with the girl stayed outside the mountain with Paphnutius, the confessor and monk; and the monks went in. As soon as they wished to tell him about the virgin, he anticipated them and described the girl’s affliction and how she had traveled with them. When they asked that her parents too be allowed to come in, he did not allow it, but said: ‘Go, and you will find her healed, unless she has died. For this is not my achievement, that she should come to me, a wretched man; the healing belongs to the Savior, who works his mercy in every place for those who call upon him. To her too, then, the Lord has inclined as she prayed, and his love for humanity has shown me that he will heal the girl’s affliction where she is.’ The miracle took place; and going out they found the parents rejoicing and the girl now in good health.

Once, when two brothers were coming to him and their water ran out on the road, one of them died, and the other was about to die; no longer able to walk, he too lay on the ground expecting death. Antony, sitting on the mountain, called two monks who happened to be there and urged them, saying: ‘Take a jar of water and run along the road toward Egypt; for of two who were coming, one has just died, and the other will die unless you hurry. This has just been revealed to me as I prayed.’ The monks went and found the one lying dead, and buried him; the other they revived with water and brought to the old man; for the distance was a day’s journey. If anyone asks why he did not speak before the first one died, he is not right to ask this. For the judgment of death was not Antony’s but God’s, who both judged concerning the one and revealed concerning the other. This alone was Antony’s marvel: that while sitting on the mountain he kept his heart watchful, and the Lord showed him things far away.

Once again, sitting on the mountain and looking up, he saw someone being carried up in the air, and great joy among those who met him. Marveling, and calling such a choir blessed, he prayed to learn what this might be. At once a voice came to him: this was the soul of Amoun, the monk in Nitria. He had persevered as an ascetic until old age. The distance from Nitria to the mountain where Antony was is thirteen days’ journey. Those who were with Antony, seeing the old man marveling, asked to learn what it was, and they heard that Amoun had just died. For he was well known, because he came there quite often, and many signs had been done through him. This is one of them. Once, when he needed to cross the river called Lycus (and the waters were then in flood), he asked Theodore, who was with him, to go far away from him, so that they might not see each other naked while swimming across. Then, when Theodore had gone, he was ashamed again even to see himself naked. While he was ashamed and anxious, he was suddenly carried over to the other side. Theodore, himself a devout man, came near and saw that Amoun had got across first without being wet by the water at all, and asked to learn the manner of the crossing. When he saw that Amoun did not wish to tell, he insisted, holding his feet and saying that he would not let go until he learned it from him. Amoun, then, seeing Theodore’s insistence, especially because of what he had said, demanded in turn that he tell no one until Amoun’s death; and so he told him that he had been carried and set down on the other side; that he had not walked on the water, nor is this possible at all for human beings, except only for the Lord and those to whom he permits it, as he did for the great apostle Peter. Theodore told this after Amoun’s death. The monks to whom Antony had spoken about Amoun’s death noted the day; and when the brothers came up from Nitria thirty days later, they inquired and learned that Amoun had fallen asleep on that day and at that hour at which the old man saw his soul being carried up …

Moreover, Archelaus the count once found him on the outer mountain and asked him simply to pray for Polycratia of Laodicea, an admirable virgin who bore Christ within her. She was suffering terribly in her stomach and side from excessive discipline, and was altogether weak in body. Antony prayed, and the count noted the day on which the prayer was made; and going to Laodicea he found the virgin well. When he asked when and on what day she had been freed from her illness, he brought out the paper on which he had written the time of the prayer; and having learned the day, he at once showed what was written on the paper; and all marveled, recognizing that the Lord had freed her from her pains at the very time when Antony was praying and entreating the Savior’s goodness for her.

He also often foretold, days beforehand, and sometimes even a month before, who was coming to him and why: some came only to see him, others because of illness, and others suffering from demons. And none of them regarded the labor of the journey as a trouble or a loss; for each went back having felt the benefit. Though he said and saw such things, he asked that no one should admire him for this, but rather admire the Lord, who has granted to us, who are human beings, to know him according to our capacity.

Once, when he went down again to the outer monasteries and was asked to go aboard a boat and pray with some monks, he alone perceived a terrible and very bitter stench. When those in the boat said that there was fish and salted meat aboard and that the smell came from these, he said that the stench was something else. While he was still speaking, a young man who had a demon, and who had come aboard earlier and was hiding in the boat, at once cried out. The demon was rebuked in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ and came out; the man was made well, and all knew that the stench had been the demon’s.

Another man, one of the notables, came to him with a demon. That demon was so terrible that the possessed man did not know that he was going to Antony; he even ate the excrement of his own body. Those who brought him begged Antony to pray for him; and Antony, feeling compassion for the young man, prayed and kept vigil with him the whole night. Toward dawn the young man suddenly attacked Antony and pushed him; and when those who had come with him were indignant, Antony said: ‘Do not be angry with the young man; for it is not he, but the demon in him. Rebuked and commanded to be driven into waterless places, it went mad and did this. So glorify the Lord; for his rushing at me in this way has become a sign to you that the demon has gone out.’ When Antony had said this, at once the young man was made well; and coming to his senses he knew where he was, and he embraced the old man, giving thanks to God.

Many other such things, consistently and in agreement, most of the monks have told of as having been done through him. Yet these do not seem so wonderful as other things, which appear more wonderful still. Once, when he was about to eat and had risen to pray about the ninth hour, he felt himself caught up in his mind; and, strangest of all, as he stood he saw himself as though he were outside himself and being led up into the air by certain beings. Then he saw some bitter and terrible beings standing in the air and wishing to hinder him from passing through. When his guides resisted them, they demanded an account, to see whether he was answerable to them. When they wished to reckon up an account from his birth, Antony’s guides prevented them, saying to them: ‘What dates from his birth the Lord has wiped out; but from the time he became a monk and made his promise to God, you may make an account.’ Then, as they accused him but could prove nothing, the way became free and unhindered for him; and at once he saw himself as though coming back and returning to himself, and he was wholly Antony again. Then, forgetting to eat, he spent the rest of the day and the whole night groaning and praying. For he marveled to see against how many our wrestling is, and through what labors one must pass through the air; and he remembered that this is what the Apostle said: ‘according to the ruler of the authority of the air.’ For in this lies the enemy’s authority: in fighting and trying to hinder those who pass through. That is why the Apostle especially exhorted: ‘Take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand in the evil day,’ so that the enemy, having nothing evil to say about us, may be put to shame. And we, having learned this, let us remember the Apostle, who says: ‘Whether in the body I do not know, or out of the body I do not know; God knows.’ But Paul was caught up as far as the third heaven, and came down having heard unspeakable words; while Antony saw himself reach the air and struggle until he was shown to be free.

He also had this further gift. Sitting alone on the mountain, if ever he was at a loss in seeking something by himself, it was revealed to him by Providence as he prayed; and the blessed man was, as it is written, taught by God. Later, at any rate, when he once had a discussion with some who had come to him about the passage of the soul and what place it will have after this life, the following night someone called him from above, saying: ‘Antony, get up, go out, and look.’ So he went out (for he knew whom he ought to obey), and looking up he saw a tall figure, misshapen and frightful, standing and reaching to the clouds, and some beings ascending as if they had wings; and that figure was stretching out his hands; some were stopped by him, while others flew over him and, having passed through, were carried up thereafter without care. At these the tall figure gnashed his teeth, but over those who fell back he rejoiced. At once a voice came to Antony: ‘Understand what you see.’ And his understanding was opened, and he understood that this was the passage of souls, and that the tall figure standing there was the enemy who envies the faithful: he seizes those who are answerable to him and prevents them from passing, but cannot seize those who have not obeyed him, as they pass beyond. Having seen this, and being as it were reminded, he strove all the more each day to advance toward what lies ahead. He did not tell these things willingly; but when he spent long in prayer and marveled to himself, and those with him questioned and pressed him, he was compelled to speak, as a father who cannot hide things from his children. He also thought that his own conscience was pure, while the account would benefit them, as they learned that the fruit of the ascetic life is good, and that visions often come as a consolation for its labors.

Moreover, he was forbearing in character and humble in soul. Being such, he honored the rule of the church exceedingly, and wished every cleric to be given precedence over himself in honor. He was not ashamed to bow his head to bishops and presbyters; and if ever a deacon came to him for help, he discussed with him what would benefit him, but gave place to him in prayer, not ashamed to learn himself as well. For he often asked questions and sought to hear from those who were with him, and he admitted that he was helped if anyone said something useful. His face, too, had great and remarkable grace. He had this gift also from the Savior: if he was present among the crowd of monks, and someone who did not know him before wished to see him, that person would come forward and at once pass by the others and run to Antony, as though drawn by his appearance. He did not differ from the others in height or breadth, but in the settled state of his character and the purity of his soul. For since his soul was untroubled, his outward senses were also undisturbed, so that from the joy of his soul his face too was cheerful, and from the movements of his body one could perceive and understand the state of his soul, as it is written: ‘When the heart is glad, the face flourishes; but when it is in grief, it is gloomy.’ So Jacob recognized that Laban was plotting, and said to his wives: ‘Your father’s face is not toward me as it was yesterday and the day before’; so Samuel recognized David, for he had joyful eyes and teeth white as milk. …

In faith too he was altogether admirable and devout. He never held communion with the Melitians, the schismatics, knowing their wickedness and apostasy from the beginning; nor did he converse in friendship with the Manichees or any other heretics, except only to admonish them to turn to piety, holding and charging others that friendship and conversation with them is harm and destruction to the soul. So too he loathed the heresy of the Arians, and charged everyone neither to go near them nor to share their false faith. Once, when some of the Ariomaniacs came to him, he questioned them, and on learning that they were impious, he drove them from the mountain, saying that their words were worse than the venom of snakes.

And once, when the Arians falsely claimed that he held the same views as they did, he was indignant and angry with them. Then, called upon by the bishops and all the brothers, he came down from the mountain, and entering Alexandria he publicly denounced the Arians, saying that this was the last of the heresies and the forerunner of the Antichrist. He taught the people that the Son of God is not a creature, nor did he come into being from nothing, but that he is the eternal Word and Wisdom of the Father’s being. ‘Therefore it is impious to say, “There was when he was not”; for the Word always coexisted with the Father. So have no communion at all with the most impious Arians; for there is no communion of light with darkness. You are devout Christians; but they, by saying that the Son of God and Word who is from the Father is a creature, differ in nothing from the pagans, serving the creature rather than God the Creator. Believe me, the whole creation itself is indignant with them, because they number among created things the Creator and Lord of all, in whom all things came to be.’

All the people rejoiced to hear the heresy that fights against Christ anathematized by such a man; and the whole city ran together to see Antony. Pagans too, and even their so-called priests, came to the Lord’s house, saying: ‘We ask to see the man of God’; for so they all called him. For there too the Lord cleansed many of demons through him, and healed those who were injured in mind. Many pagans also asked just to touch the old man, believing they would be helped. Indeed, as many became Christians in those few days as one might have seen become Christians in a year. Then, when some thought that he was troubled by the crowds and for this reason turned everyone away from him, he said, quite untroubled, that these were no more numerous than the demons with whom we wrestle on the mountain.

When he was leaving and we were escorting him, as we reached the gate a woman behind us cried out: ‘Wait, man of God! My daughter is terribly troubled by a demon. Wait, I beg you, so that I do not come to harm myself by running.’ Hearing this, and asked by us, the old man willingly waited. When the woman came near, the girl was thrown to the ground; and when Antony had prayed and named Christ, the girl got up well, the unclean demon having gone out. The mother blessed God, and everyone gave thanks. And he himself rejoiced as he went away to the mountain, as to his own home.

He was also very wise; and the wonderful thing is that, though he had not learned letters, he was a shrewd and intelligent man. Once, at any rate, two pagan philosophers came to him, thinking that they could test Antony. He was on the outer mountain; and understanding the men from their faces, he went out to them and said through an interpreter: ‘Why have you taken so much trouble, philosophers, to come to a foolish man?’ When they said that he was not foolish but very wise, he said to them: ‘If you have come to a foolish man, your labor is wasted; but if you think that I am wise, become as I am; for one ought to imitate what is good. If I had come to you, I would have imitated you; but since you have come to me, become as I am; for I am a Christian.’ They went away marveling; for they saw that even demons feared Antony.

When again others of the same kind met him on the outer mountain, and thought to mock him because he had not learned letters, Antony said to them: ‘What do you say? Which comes first, mind or letters? And which is the cause of which: the mind of letters, or letters of the mind?’ When they said that mind comes first and is the inventor of letters, Antony said: ‘The one whose mind is sound, then, has no need of letters.’ This astonished both those present and the philosophers themselves. They went away marveling that they saw such understanding in an unlettered man. For he did not have a rough character, as though he had been raised on a mountain and grown old there; he was gracious and courteous. His speech was seasoned with divine salt, so that no one envied him, but all who came to him rather rejoiced in him.

Indeed, after this some others came again, men reputed wise among the Greeks, and asked him for an account of our faith in Christ; they attempted to reason about the preaching of the divine cross and wished to mock it. Antony paused a little, and, first pitying them for their ignorance, said through an interpreter who translated his words well: ‘Which is nobler, to confess a cross, or to attribute adulteries and the corruption of boys to those you call gods? For what we say is a proof of courage and a mark of contempt for death; but your tales are passions of licentiousness. Next, which is better: to say that the Word of God was not changed, but, remaining the same, took a human body for the salvation and benefit of human beings, so that, sharing in human birth, he might make human beings share in the divine and spiritual nature; or to liken the Divine to irrational creatures, and for this reason to worship four-footed beasts, creeping things, and images of men? For these are the objects of worship of you wise men. How do you dare to mock us for saying that Christ appeared as a man, when you separate the soul from heaven and say that it went astray and fell from the vault of heaven into a body; and would that it were only into a human body, and that you did not say it passes and falls into four-footed beasts and creeping things! Our faith speaks of the coming of Christ for the salvation of human beings; but you go astray, because you teach about an unoriginate soul. We think of the power and the love for humanity of Providence, holding that this too was not impossible for God; but you, calling the soul an image of the mind, attribute falls to it and tell myths that it is changeable, and then you make the mind itself changeable because of the soul. For as the image is, so must that be of which it is the image. When you think such things about the mind, consider that you blaspheme even the Father of the mind himself.’

‘About the cross, which would you say is better: when wicked men press on with a plot, to endure a cross and not to cower before death, however it is inflicted; or to tell myths of the wanderings of Osiris and Isis, the plots of Typhon, the flight of Cronus, the swallowing of children, and the murder of fathers? For these are your wisdom. And how is it that, while mocking the cross, you do not marvel at the resurrection? For those who told of the one wrote of the other too. Or why, when you remember the cross, are you silent about the dead who were raised, the blind who received their sight, the paralytics who were healed, the lepers who were cleansed, the walking on the sea, and the other signs and wonders, which show Christ to be no longer a man but God? You seem to me to wrong yourselves greatly and not to have read our Scriptures with sincerity. But do read them, and see that the things Christ did prove him to be God, who came among us for the salvation of human beings.’

‘Now tell us your own doctrines. What would you say about irrational creatures, except irrationality and savagery? And if, as I hear, you wish to say that these things are told among you as myths, and you allegorize the rape of Kore as the earth, the lameness of Hephaestus as fire, Hera as the air, Apollo as the sun, Artemis as the moon, and Poseidon as the sea, you nevertheless do not worship God himself, but serve the creature rather than God who created all things. For if you composed such tales because creation is beautiful, you ought to have gone only as far as admiring it, and not to have deified the things made, so as not to give the Creator’s honor to created things. Otherwise it is time for you to transfer the architect’s honor to the house he built, or the general’s to the soldier. What do you say to this, then, so that we may know whether the cross has anything worthy of mockery?’

When they were at a loss and turned this way and that, Antony smiled and said again through an interpreter: ‘These things carry their refutation in the very sight of them. But since you rely rather on demonstrative arguments, and, having this art, you wish us too not to worship God without demonstration by arguments, tell us first: how are things, and especially the knowledge of God, accurately known? Through demonstration by arguments, or through the working of faith? And which comes first, faith through its working, or demonstration through arguments?’ When they answered that faith through its working comes first and that this is accurate knowledge, Antony said: ‘You have spoken well; for faith comes from the disposition of the soul, while dialectic comes from the art of those who devise it. So for those in whom the working through faith is present, demonstration by arguments is not necessary, or is perhaps even superfluous. For what we understand by faith, you try to establish by arguments; and often you cannot even express what we understand. So the working through faith is better and firmer than your sophistic syllogisms.’

‘We Christians, then, hold the mystery not in the wisdom of Greek arguments, but in the power of faith supplied to us by God through Jesus Christ. And to show that what I say is true: see, we who have not learned letters believe in God, recognizing his providence over all things through his works. And to show that our faith is effective: see, we rely on faith in Christ, but you on sophistic wrangling over words; the phantoms of your idols are being brought to nothing, while our faith spreads everywhere. You, with your syllogisms and sophistries, convert no one from Christianity to paganism; but we, by teaching faith in Christ, strip you of your superstition, as all come to recognize that Christ is God and the Son of God. You do not hinder the teaching of Christ by your eloquence; but we, by naming Christ crucified, drive away all the demons whom you fear as gods. And where the sign of the cross is made, magic grows weak and sorcery has no effect.’

‘Tell us, then: where now are your oracles? Where are the incantations of the Egyptians? Where are the apparitions of the magicians? When did all these cease and grow weak, if not when the cross of Christ came? Is the cross, then, worthy of mockery, or rather are the things it has brought to nothing and exposed shown to be weak? This too is wonderful: your religion has never been persecuted, but is honored by people in every city; while the followers of Christ are persecuted, and yet ours flourishes and multiplies more than yours. Yours, though praised and protected, is perishing; but the faith and teaching of Christ, mocked by you and often persecuted by emperors, has filled the world. When did the knowledge of God ever shine out like this? When did self-control and the virtue of virginity ever appear like this? When was death ever so despised, if not since the cross of Christ came? No one doubts this who sees the martyrs despising death for Christ’s sake, and sees the virgins of the church keeping their bodies pure and undefiled for Christ’s sake.’

‘These are sufficient proofs that the faith of Christ alone is true religion. See, you still do not believe, but look for syllogisms drawn from arguments. We do not demonstrate, as our teacher said, “in persuasive words of Greek wisdom”; we persuade by faith, which clearly anticipates the construction of arguments. See, here are some who suffer from demons.’ (For some had come to him troubled by demons.) And bringing them into the middle he said: ‘Either you cleanse them by your syllogisms, or by any art or magic you wish, invoking your idols; or, if you cannot, lay down your quarrel with us, and you will see the power of the cross of Christ.’ Having said this, he called upon Christ and sealed the sufferers with the sign of the cross two and three times. At once the men stood up whole, in their right minds and from then on giving thanks to the Lord. The so-called philosophers marveled and were truly astonished at the man’s understanding and at the sign that had been done. But Antony said: ‘Why do you marvel at this? It is not we who do it, but Christ, who does these things through those who believe in him. So believe, you too, and you will see that what we have is not an art of words but faith working through love toward Christ; if you too had it, you would no longer look for demonstrations through arguments, but …’

The fame of Antony reached even the emperors. When Constantine Augustus and his sons Constantius and Constans, the Augusti, learned of these things, they wrote to him as to a father and begged to receive replies from him. But he made little of the letters, nor was he delighted by them; he was the same as he had been before the emperors wrote to him. When the letters were brought to him, he called the monks and said: ‘Do not marvel if an emperor writes to us, for he is a man; marvel rather that God wrote the law for human beings and has spoken to us through his own Son.’ He wished not to receive the letters, saying that he did not know how to answer such things; but the monks urged him, because the emperors were Christians, and so that they would not be offended at being rejected; so he allowed them to be read. He wrote back, commending them for worshiping Christ, and counseling them on what concerns salvation: not to think the present world great, but rather to remember the coming judgment, and to know that Christ alone is the true and eternal King. He asked them to be humane and to care for justice and for the poor. They received his letter and rejoiced. So he was dear to all, and all wished to have him as a father.

Being known as such a man, and answering those who came to him in this way, he returned again to the inner mountain and kept to his usual discipline. Often, when he was sitting or walking with those who came to him, he fell silent, as it is written in Daniel; and after an hour he would go on with what he had been saying to the brothers who were with him; and those with him perceived that he was seeing some vision. For often, while he was on the mountain, he saw things happening in Egypt, and he told them to Bishop Serapion, who was inside with him and saw Antony absorbed in the vision. Once, while sitting and working, he became as though in ecstasy, and groaned much during the vision. Then after an hour he turned to those with him, groaned, and, trembling, prayed, and remained a long time on his knees. When he rose, the old man wept. Those with him, trembling and very afraid, asked to learn from him, and pressed him hard until he was compelled to speak. Then, groaning deeply, he said: ‘Children, it would be better to die before what is in the vision comes to pass.’ When they asked again, he said, weeping: ‘Wrath is about to overtake the church, and it is about to be handed over to men like irrational beasts. For I saw the table of the Lord’s house, and mules standing around it in a circle on every side, kicking at the things inside, as beasts would kick when leaping about in disorder. You surely noticed how I groaned; for I heard a voice saying, “My altar shall be defiled.”’ This is what the old man saw; and two years later came the present assault of the Arians and the seizure of the churches, when they took the vessels by force and had them carried off by pagans; when they compelled pagans from the workshops to assemble with them, and in their presence did what they pleased upon the table. Then we all recognized that the kicking of the mules had foretold to Antony what the Arians are now doing, senselessly, like beasts. When he had seen this vision, he comforted those with him, saying: ‘Do not lose heart, children; for as the Lord has been angry, so he will heal again. The church will soon recover its own order and shine as before; and you will see those who were persecuted restored, impiety withdrawing again to its own lairs, and the pious faith speaking out boldly everywhere with all freedom. Only do not defile …’

Such were the deeds of Antony. We must not disbelieve that so many wonders came about through a man. For it is the Savior’s promise, who said: ‘If you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, “Move from here,” and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.’ And again: ‘Truly, truly I say to you, whatever you ask the Father in my name, he will give you. Ask, and you will receive.’ And it is he who says to his disciples and to all who believe in him: ‘Heal the sick …’

Antony healed, then, not by commanding, but by praying and naming Christ, so that it was clear to all that it was not he who did it, but the Lord, showing his love for humanity through Antony and healing the sufferers. Only the prayer and the discipline were Antony’s own. For their sake he stayed on the mountain, rejoicing in the contemplation of divine things, but grieved at being troubled by many and drawn away to the outer mountain. For all the judges too asked him to come down from the mountain, since it was impossible for them to go there because of the litigants who followed them. They asked him to come so that they might at least see him. He avoided them and declined the journeys to them; but they persisted, and even sent to him under military escort those who were on trial, so that he might come down at least for their sake. Under this compulsion, and seeing them lamenting, he would come to the outer mountain; and again his trouble was not without benefit, for his coming was of help and benefit to many. He helped the judges, counseling them to put justice before everything, to fear God, and to know that with the judgment with which they judge they will be judged. But more than anything he loved his life on the mountain.

Once, then, when he suffered such pressure from those in need, and the military commander had asked him many times to come down, he came, said a few words bearing on salvation and on those who needed him, and hurried to leave. When the duke, as he is called, asked him to stay longer, he said that he could not stay long with them, and persuaded him with a charming comparison, saying: ‘As fish die if they stay a long time on dry land, so monks who linger with you and spend their time among you lose their strength. So, as the fish must hurry back to the sea, we must hurry back to the mountain, lest by lingering we forget the things within.’ Hearing this and much else from him, the commander marveled and said that this man was truly a servant of God; for how could an unlettered man have such great understanding, unless he were loved by God?

A certain military commander named Balacius bitterly persecuted us Christians because of his zeal for the ill-named Arians. He was so savage that he even beat virgins and stripped and scourged monks. Antony sent to him and wrote a letter to this effect: ‘I see wrath coming upon you; so stop persecuting Christians, lest the wrath overtake you; for it is already about to come upon you.’ Balacius laughed, threw the letter on the ground and spat on it, insulted those who brought it, and … ordered them to report this to Antony: ‘Since you are concerned about the monks, I will soon come after you too.’ Five days had not passed before the wrath overtook him. For Balacius and Nestorius, the prefect of Egypt, went out to the first stage from Alexandria, called Chaereu, and both were riding horses; these belonged to Balacius and were the gentlest of all the horses he kept. But before they reached the place, the horses began to play with each other, as horses do; and suddenly the gentler one, on which Nestorius was riding, threw Balacius down with a bite and fell upon him; and so …

So he admonished the harsher ones; and the others who came to him he counseled in such a way that they forgot their lawsuits on the spot and called blessed those who withdraw from this life. He championed those who were wronged in such a way that it seemed that not they but he himself was the one suffering. Again, he was so able to benefit everyone that many soldiers and many people of great wealth laid aside the burdens of life and became monks. In short, he was like a physician given by God to Egypt. For who came to him grieving and did not go away rejoicing? Who came mourning his dead and did not at once lay aside his grief? Who came angry and was not changed to friendship? What poor man came to him dejected, and on hearing and seeing him did not despise wealth and find comfort in his poverty? What monk who had grown negligent came to him and did not become stronger? What young man came to the mountain, saw Antony, and did not at once renounce pleasures and love self-control? Who came to him tempted by a demon and did not find rest? And who came troubled in his thoughts and did not find his mind calmed?

This too was a great feature of Antony’s discipline: having, as I said before, the gift of discernment of spirits, he recognized their movements, and he was not ignorant of what each of them was bent on and eager for. Not only was he himself not made sport of by them, but by encouraging those troubled in their thoughts he taught them how they could overturn the demons’ plots, describing the weaknesses and tricks of those who work them. So each one went down from him as if anointed, taking courage against the designs of the devil and his demons. How many virgins who had suitors, merely by seeing Antony from afar, remained virgins for Christ! People came to him also from foreign parts; and they too, having received benefit along with everyone else, went home as though sent off by a father. Indeed, when he fell asleep, all, as though orphaned of him, …

What the end of his life was like is worthy for me to recall and for you to hear, since you long for it; for this too has become worthy of emulation. As usual he was visiting the monks on the outer mountain, and, having learned beforehand from Providence about his own death, he spoke to the brothers, saying: ‘This is the last visit I am making to you, and I shall be surprised if we see each other again in this life. It is time for me now to depart; for I am nearly a hundred and five years old.’ When they heard this, they wept, and embraced and kissed the old man; but he, like one setting out from a foreign city for his own, spoke joyfully and charged them not to grow negligent in their labors nor lose heart in their discipline, but to live as dying every day; and, as I said before, to strive to guard the soul from filthy thoughts, to emulate the saints, and not to go near the Melitian schismatics, ‘for you know their wicked and profane purpose’; nor to have any communion with the Arians, ‘for their impiety too is evident to all. And if you see the judges supporting them, do not be troubled; for it will cease, and their show is mortal and short-lived. Rather keep yourselves pure from them, and keep the tradition of the fathers, and above all the pious faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, which you have learned from the Scriptures and of which I have often reminded you.’

When the brothers pressed him to stay with them and die there, he would not, for many reasons, as he made clear even by his silence, and above all for this one: the Egyptians love to honor with funeral rites and to wrap in linen cloths the bodies of devout people who have died, and especially of the holy martyrs, but not to hide them under the ground; instead they place them on couches and keep them inside their homes, thinking that in this way they honor the departed. Antony had often asked even bishops to instruct the people about this; likewise he rebuked lay people and reproached women, saying that this was neither lawful nor at all holy. For the bodies of the patriarchs and the prophets are kept in tombs to this day; and the Lord’s own body was laid in a tomb, and a stone was placed over it and hid it until he rose on the third day. By saying this he showed that anyone who does not hide the bodies of the dead after death, even if they are holy, breaks the law. For what is greater or holier than the Lord’s body? Many, then, hearing this, from then on buried the dead under the ground, and gave thanks to the Lord for having been well taught.

Knowing this, and fearing that they might do the same with his own body, he hurried away after saying farewell to the monks on the outer mountain; and going into the inner mountain, where he used to stay, he fell ill after a few months. He called those who were with him (there were two who lived inside with him, practicing the ascetic life for fifteen years and serving him because of his age) and said to them: ‘I, as it is written, am going the way of the fathers; for I see that I am being called by the Lord. But you, be watchful, and do not lose your long discipline; but strive to keep your eagerness as though you were only now beginning. You know the demons who plot against us; you know how savage they are, but weak in power. So do not fear them, but rather always breathe Christ and believe in him; and live as dying every day, attending to yourselves and remembering the exhortations you have heard from me. Let there be no communion between you and the schismatics, nor any at all with the heretical Arians. For you know how I too avoided them because of their heresy, which fights against Christ and teaches what is false. Strive rather always to join yourselves, first of all to the Lord, and then to the saints, so that after death they too may receive you as friends and familiar companions into the eternal tents. Think on these things, set your minds on these things; and if you care for me and remember me as a father, do not let anyone take my body to Egypt, lest they lay it up in their houses; for it was for this reason that I went into the mountain and came here. You know how I always rebuked those who do this and told them to stop such a custom. So bury what is mine yourselves and hide it under the ground; and let my word be kept by you, so that no one knows the place except you alone. For in the resurrection of the dead I shall receive it back incorruptible from the Savior. Divide my garments: to Athanasius the bishop give the one sheepskin and the cloak on which I lay, which he gave me new and which has grown old with me; and to Serapion the bishop give the …

Having said this, and after they had embraced him, he stretched out his feet; and, as though he saw friends who had come for him and was overjoyed because of them (for he appeared, as he lay there, with a cheerful face), he breathed his last and was gathered to his fathers. And they, as he had commanded them, prepared and wrapped his body and hid it under the ground; and no one knows to this day where it is hidden, except those two alone. Each of those who received the blessed Antony’s sheepskin and the cloak he had worn out keeps it as a great treasure. For seeing them is like seeing Antony; and wearing them is like joyfully bearing his admonitions.

This was the end of Antony’s life in the body, as that was the beginning of his discipline. Even if these things are small compared with his virtue, still you can reckon from them what kind of man Antony, the man of God, was, who from his youth to such a great age kept the same eagerness for discipline; who neither yielded to costly food because of old age, nor changed the style of his clothing because of the weakness of his body, nor even washed his feet with water; and yet in all things he remained unharmed. For he had eyes undimmed and sound, and saw well; and not one of his teeth fell out, but they had only been worn down to the gums because of the old man’s great age. He also remained healthy in his feet and hands; and altogether he appeared brighter and more vigorous in strength than all those who use varied food, baths, and different kinds of clothing. That he was spoken of everywhere, admired by all, and longed for even by those who had never seen him, is a mark of his virtue and of his God-loving soul. For Antony became known not by writings, nor by worldly wisdom, nor through any art, but only by godliness; and no one would deny that this was a gift of God. For how was he heard of in Spain and Gaul, in Rome and Africa, while he sat hidden on a mountain, unless it was God who makes his own people known everywhere, and who promised this to Antony at the beginning? For even if they act in secret, even if they wish to escape notice, the Lord shows them to all like lamps, so that those who hear of them may thus know that the commandments can be fulfilled, and may take up zeal for the road to virtue.

Read these things, then, to the other brothers, so that they may learn what the life of monks ought to be, and may be persuaded that our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ glorifies those who glorify him; and that those who serve him to the end he not only leads into the kingdom of heaven, but even here, though they hide themselves and strive to withdraw, he makes known and celebrated everywhere, both for their virtue and for the benefit of others. And if need arises, read it also to the pagans, so that even in this way they may recognize that our Lord Jesus Christ is not only God and the Son of God, but also that those who truly serve him and piously believe in him, the Christians, not only prove that the demons, whom the Greeks themselves think are gods, are not gods, but also trample on them and drive them away as deceivers and corrupters of human beings, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.