ST. PŒMEN, THE PRINCE OF HERMITS (A.D. 450).
The prince of the desert, the chief of the solitaries and the fellow-citizen of angels, as he was long called, was St. Pœmen, an Egyptian who flourished in 450. He had six brothers, and they all had a turn for fasting and self-mortifications, and retired to the desert and lived there, scorning the indulgences of ordinary life. All the people round soon confessed that Pœmen was the greatest hermit of his time, and his sayings were quoted over all Christendom. A monk who suffered from violent temptations consulted Pœmen how to overcome his evil temper, and was told to retire into the desert and wrestle there with his temper and conquer it. The monk said, “But, father, how if I were to die without Sacraments in the wild waste?” To this Pœmen answered, “Do you think God would not receive you, coming from the battle-field?” Another monk, perplexed where to live and how to act, asked Pœmen whether he should live in community or in solitude. Pœmen replied, “Wherever you find yourself humble-minded, there you may settle down and dwell with security.” Another monk went a long journey to see and consult Pœmen, and began to talk about subtle theological niceties. Pœmen looked grave and silent, till the visitor departed, expressing his disgust at coming so far for nothing. Pœmen observed on this afterwards, “This anchorite flies far above my reach. He sails up to heaven, while I creep along the earth. If he would talk about our passions and infirmities and how to overcome them, then we should have some subject in common to talk about.” Another time Pœmen, asked by a troublesome monk to tell him what was a living faith, replied, “A living faith consists in thinking little of oneself and showing tenderness to others.” He also once said, “A warm heart, boiling with charity, is not troubled with temptations, any more than with the flies hovering round it. When the caldron cools, then the flies collect and swarm round it.” Pœmen lived to one hundred and ten, and had no equal in his time.
ST. MOYSES, WATER-CARRIER TO THE SICK HERMITS (A.D. 470).
St. Moyses of the tenth century was a brawny negro slave who had escaped from his master and lived for a time by rapine and murder. In one of his hairbreadth escapes he took refuge among the hermits, and began to see great merit in them, and tried to live like them and conquer his own furious passions. He consulted the Abbot Isidore, who told him this enterprise would take some time. Moyses said he would wait and try, and he became a priest. In order to give himself exercise and tame his evil spirit, he made a practice of regularly going round the cells of the hermits, and wherever he found one sick he would go and fetch water and fill his pitcher. And this he would do at any hour of the night and go any distance. One night, in stooping over a pool and filling a hermit’s pitcher, he was doubled up with an attack of lumbago, and thought the devil had given him a sudden stroke with a club. Moyses lay groaning with pain till next morning, when he was carried to a church, and there people took care of him. He was many months disabled, but on recovery at once resumed his work. One day, the governor hearing of Moyses and being curious to see him, met Moyses, and asked where that famous hermit Moyses lived. Moyses replied, “He’s not worth visiting, for he is only a fool.” The governor related this to the monks at the nearest monastery, and said that the man who thus answered him was a huge old black fellow, covered with rags. The monks thereupon all exclaimed, “That was Moyses himself; it could be no other.”
A HERMIT DEVISING NEW AUSTERITIES (A.D. 479).
In 479 Barnadatus, a Syrian monk, devised some new ways of self-mortification. First he shut himself up in a small chamber; and then, ascending a mountain, he made for himself a wooden box, in which he could not stand upright, and was always confined to a stooping posture. This box having no close covering, he was exposed to the wind, to the rain, and to the sun, and for a long time dwelt in this incommodious house. Afterwards he always stood upright, stretching up his hands to heaven, covered with a garment of skin, with only a small aperture to draw his breath. James, another contemporary monk, lived at first in a small hut, and afterwards in the open air, with only heaven for his covering, enduring the extremes of heat and cold. He had iron chains round his neck and waist, and four other chains hung down from his neck, two before and two behind. He had also chains about his arms. His only food was lentils. For three days and nights he was often so covered with snow, whilst he was prostrate and praying, that he could hardly be seen. This man, according to Theodoret, was celebrated for the many miracles which he wrought.
HERMIT ST. CARILEFF REFUSING A QUEEN’S VISIT (A.D. 540).
St. Carileff was a monk at Menat, near Clermont, and died about 540. He early became dissatisfied with his monastery, and resolved to penetrate farther into the forest, and live a more retired and perfect life. He and a companion went to reconnoitre, and in a remote corner came upon an old neglected vineyard, where they thought of settling down. One hot day the saint was working and had hung his hood on an oak tree, and on returning to resume it he found a wren had laid an egg in it. So the good hermit rejoiced and left his hood, so as not to disturb the tiny creature’s nest. When he reported to his abbot this circumstance, the latter said, “This is no accident; return thither, and there a monastery shall arise some day.” Carileff returned and settled in the old vineyard, and he gained the confidence of other animals besides the wren; for a large buffalo used to come to his cell and let him rub his shaggy neck, and then it galloped back into the forest. One day the king heard of this splendid buffalo roaming about, and made up a hunting party to secure it. But it took refuge in the hermit’s cell; and the huntsmen, hot with pursuit, were so amazed at seeing the great monarch of the forest standing thus peaceably beside its protector, that they acknowledged the man of God’s superior power, and ended by giving him a grant of lands to build a monastery there. When the king told this story, the queen was eager to visit the holy recluse, and sent a message; but he most peremptorily refused to see her, saying, “As long as I live I shall never see the face of a woman, and no woman shall ever enter my cell. Why should this queen be so anxious to see a man disfigured by fasting and toil, and as brown as a chameleon? I will pray for her. A monk has no need of great possessions, nor has she of a monk’s blessing. But his blessing she shall have, if she will only leave him alone.”
THE FIRST SAXON HERMIT (A.D. 708).