On the Eight Evil Spirits

The Mimicry of Vices§1

1On the eight spirits of malice (under the name of Nilus of Ancyra). The same, concerning the eight spirits of malice. Chapter 4. Concerning gluttony. The beginning of fruitfulness is the flower, and the beginning of practice is self-control; he who masters the stomach diminishes passions, but he who is defeated by foods increases pleasures. The beginning of the Amalekite nation is the source of passions, and the beginning of passions is gluttony. The matter of fire is wood, and the matter of the stomach is foods. Many woods raise a great flame, and a multitude of foods nourishes desire. The flame is extinguished when the matter remains, and the desire withers when the food is scarce. He who seized the bit drove out the foreigners, and the bonds of his hands he easily broke apart. The removal of the bit produced a spring of water, and gluttony having been abolished, it gave birth to practical contemplation. Having passed through the Passover of the tent (Exodus 12), he removed the bit of the enemy, and the word of self-control suppressed the passion. The desire for eating gave birth to disobedience, and a sweet taste cast out one from paradise (Genesis 3). The abundance of foods delights the throat, but nourishes the sleepless worms of intemperance. A hungry stomach prepares one to keep watch in prayer, but a full one brings on much sleep. Sobriety of mind is found in a very dry diet, but a moist life immerses the intellect into a depth. For one fasting, prayer is like an eagle's fledgling rising up, but the one weighed down by the heaviness of the neck is dragged down; for one fasting, the mind is a bright star in the clear sky, but the one weighed down is covered in darkness; as mist covers the solar rays, so the thick exhalation of foods darkens the intellect. Chapter 2. A mirror having become soiled does not shatter the form approaching it, and the intellect having been dulled by heaviness does not receive the knowledge of God. A parched land brings forth thorns, and the mind of a glutton sprouts shameful thoughts. It is not possible to find fragrances in a mire, nor in a glutton the sweetness of contemplation. The eye of a glutton searches out banquets; but the eye of the self-controlled searches out the assemblies of the wise. The soul of a glutton counts the memories of martyrs, but the soul of the self-controlled...

He mimics their lives. A cowardly soldier shudders at a trumpet signaling war, and a glutton at the proclamation of self-control. A gluttonous monk, a subverter of the belly, is required to undergo a daily fast.

A traveler quickly reaches a city, and a self-controlled monk, a peaceful state; a slow traveler will stumble in the wilderness, exposed, and a gluttonous monk will not reach the house of apatheia. A wisp of incense sweetens the air, and the prayer of one self-controlled, the scent of God. If you give yourself to the desire of foods, nothing will suffice to fulfill the pleasure; for the desire of foods is a fire, always receiving and always burning. A sufficient measure filled a vessel, but a bursting stomach does not say, 'It is enough.' The stretching out of hands turned the Amalekite (Exodus 17:12), and sinful actions are the result of the passions of the flesh.

Chapter 4. Destroy from yourself every breath of evil, and kill the members of your flesh strongly. For in the same way that a defeated enemy will not present fear to you, so a dead body will not disturb your soul. A dead body knows not the pain of fire, nor does a self-controlled person the pleasure of a dead desire. If you strike an Egyptian, hide him in the sand, and do not take up a body upon a defeated passion; for just as that which is hidden grows in a deserted land, so the passion sprouts up in a greasy body. A withered flame relights itself by taking up embers, and a pleasure having been extinguished is rekindled in the heap of foods. Do not show mercy to a body losing its strength, nor take it up with the luxury of foods; for if it is strong, it will rise up against you, and it will stir up unceasing war against you, until it captures your soul and delivers you as a slave to the passion of fornication.

A well-trained horse, being within the body, will never cast down the rider; for indeed it goes constrained by the bit, and obeys the hand of the driver, but the body is tamed by fasting and wakefulness, and it does not depart from the thought of the one riding upon it, nor...

The Danger of Memory and Lust§2

2It will be moved by a passionate impulse.

Chapter 4. On Fornication. Temperance gives birth to self-control, but gluttony is the mother of licentiousness; oil feeds the flame of a lamp, and the company of women kindles a torch of pleasure. The violence of waves wrecks an unmoored ship, and the thought of fornication destroys an uncontrolled mind. Fornication will take a youth as an ally, for it will leave him and stand with the adversaries, and in the end, it will fight alongside the enemies. He who loves stillness remains unharmed from the arrows of the enemy, but he who mixes himself with the crowd receives continuous wounds.

The sight of a woman is a poisoned arrow; it wounded the soul and deposited its venom, and as long as it lingers, it works more rot. He who guards himself against these arrows does not compare them to public festivals, nor does he surround himself with them during feasts; for it is better to remain at home idling in prayers, than to become a tool for enemies while thinking one honors the feasts. Flee the company of women, if you wish to be temperate, and do not give them boldness, lest they ever tear you apart. For they have piety in the beginning, either truly or pretending; but later they dare everything shamelessly.

At the first meeting, they cast their eyes down, speak softly, and weep sympathetically; they fashion themselves solemnly and sigh bitterly; they ask about purity and listen earnestly. Second, I saw, and they slightly lifted their eyes upward; third, they pay attention shamelessly, having smiled, and they laughed when you were poured out; thereafter they adorn themselves, and clearly show you, shaping their gaze, being delighted by the passion, they raise their eyebrows and roll their eyelids, they expose the neck, and they agitate themselves with their whole body; they speak words softening the passion, and use a tone that is an enticement to the ear, until through all these things they besiege the soul. These things become hooks to lure you toward death, and complex snares to drag you toward destruction, lest they mislead you with words used quite decently; for a wicked venom of beasts is hidden within them.

Chapter 5. Rather approach a burning fire than a young woman, being a young man yourself; for approaching fire, though pained, you will quickly leap away, but being softened by feminine words, you will not easily withdraw. Vegetation flourishes standing by water, and a passion of licentiousness in company...

One who is full of belly and promises to be temperate is like one who tries to restrain the energy of fire in a reed. For just as it is impossible to stop a stream of fire running in a reed, it is impossible to stop an uncontrolled, burning impulse in the genitals. A pillar relies on its base, and the passion of fornication rests in the genitals. A ship tossed by storms hastens to a harbor, and a temperate soul seeks solitude; the former flees the waves of the sea threatening danger, while the latter flees the form of women mourning destruction. A form adorned like a wave sinks the hand deeper; for the one is able to pass through by the desire for life, but the form of a woman, having deceived, persuades one to despise even life itself. The desert bush avoids the flame of fire without harm, and the temperate one, having separated from women, was not ignited by the passion of incontinence; for just as the memory of fire does not burn the intellect, so also passion has no power when the material is not present.

Chapter 6. If you show mercy to an enemy, he will be an enemy to you, and if you spare the passion, it will rise up against you. The sight of a woman stirs up uncontrolled impulse toward pleasure, but it makes the temperate man turn toward the glorification of God; if the passion becomes calm in the company of women, do not believe in its promised apathy. For even a dog barks when left with a crowd, but having come out, it shows its domestic wickedness. When the memory of a woman arises apathetically, then consider that the boundaries of temperance have been established. But when the idol of her arises for contemplation, and her arrows surround your soul, then consider that you are outside of virtue. But do not even thus entertain such thoughts, nor for long converse in the intellect with the form of a woman, for the passion is turn-loving, and the danger is near. Just as a well-proportioned crucible purifies silver, but one that is poorly made for long use easily destroys it, so a fantasy of a woman destroys temperance by entertaining it; do not converse for long with the appearing face, so that the flame of pleasure may not ignite in you and surround the net of your soul; for just as a spark, having stayed in unlit places, raises a flame, so a remaining memory of a woman inflames desire.

Chapter 7. Concerning avarice. Avarice is the root of all evils (1 Timothy 6:10), and it feeds the remaining passions like evil branches, and it will not let those things from it be dried up.

The Monk of Silver-Loving and the Nature of Anger§3

3Having bloomed again. He who intends to cut away passions must cut away the root; for if he prunes the branches while avarice remains, he does nothing useful, for even if they are cut, they immediately bloom again.

A greedy monk is like a heavily laden ship, easily diving into the surge of waves; for just as a ship overloaded by each wave is tormented, so the greedy one becomes submerged by his cares. An ungreedy monk is a steady traveler, finding lodging in every place. An ungreedy monk is a high-flying eagle, descending to food only when necessity compels him.

Such a person is higher than every temptation; he scoffs at what is present and is lifted up, suspended in the air, withdrawing from earthly things and making his life among the higher things; for he has a light wing, not weighed down by cares. If tribulation comes, he leaves the place without being crushed; if death approaches, he departs straightway; for he has not bound his soul to any earthly thing.

But the greedy one is prostrate with anxieties, and just as a dog is bound in a chain, even if he is forced to repent, he circles the memories of his possessions like a heavy and useless burden; he is stung by grief, and toward the thought of them he suffers intensely; he has left the possessions, yet he is scourged by the grief of them. Even if death comes, he pitifully lets go of what is present and gives up his soul, yet his eye does not depart from things; his limb is pulled away like a runaway slave, divided from the body, but not divided from things, rather being held by the passion that pulls him.

The sea is not filled even though it receives a multitude of rivers, and the desire for silver is not satisfied by things; he has doubled his money, and he desires to make these things double as well, and he never ceases doubling, until death stops this unceasing haste.

A prudent monk will attend to the body's needs, and will fill the stomach's need with bread and water; he will not flatter the wealthy for the pleasure of the stomach, nor will he enslave a free mind to many masters; for the hands are sufficient to serve the body and to fulfill natural necessity in all things. An ungreedy monk is an unhesitating athlete and a light runner, quickly reaching the prize of the higher calling. A greedy monk rejoices in many arrivals, but the ungreedy...

Those who have achieved virtue are crowned. A silver-loving monk works hard, but the generous man occupies himself with prayers and readings. A silver-loving monk fills treasuries of gold, but the generous man stores up in heaven. 'Accursed is he who makes an idol and places it in secret' (Exodus 20:4), just so is he who has the passion of silver-loving; for the one worships a deceptive, unprofitable thing, but the other carries the phantom of wealth.

CHAPTER 8. Concerning Anger. Anger is a manic passion, and it easily deranges those who have knowledge, making the soul beast-like and making every encounter a turning away. A violent wind will not move a tower, and a wrathless spirit is not seized by fury. Water is moved by the force of winds, and the wrathful man is tossed by irrational thoughts. A monk in anger saw something and gnashed his teeth. A rising mist thickens the air, and a movement of fury thickens the intellect of the angry man. A cloud running before darkened the sun, and a thought of grudge darkens the mind. A lion being in a painting constantly moves the feathers, and the wrathful man in a cell moves thoughts of anger. Pleasant is contemplation, a calm sea, but there is nothing more pleasant than a peaceful state; for in a calm sea dolphins swim, but in a peaceful state, God-befitting thoughts are immersed. A long-suffering monk is a quieting spring, providing a gentle drink to all, but the intellect of the angry man is scattered through all things and will not give water to the thirsty; and even if he gives, it is muddied and useless, and the eyes of the wrathful are disordered, and they are mists and angels of the troubled heart. But the face of the long-suffering man is set upright, and his eyes are gentle, looking downward.

CHAPTER 9. The deed of a man is remembered by God, and a wrathless soul becomes a temple of the Holy Spirit (1 Corinthians 6:19). Christ bows his head in a long-suffering spirit, and the dwelling of the Holy Trinity becomes a peace-making intellect. Foxes dwell in a grudging soul, and beasts defile a troubled heart. A venerable man flees a shameful pursuit, and God flees a grudging heart. A stone falling has stirred the water, and an evil word of a man has stirred the heart. Remove thoughts of anger from your soul, and let fury not pipe in your heart, and you shall not be troubled in a time of prayer; for just as smoke without sound disturbs the eyes, so...

The Dangers of Passion and the Nature of Acedia§4

4Malice is a sickness of the mind during the time of prayer. The thoughts of the angry are offspring of vipers, and they devour the heart that bore them. The prayer of the angry is a loathsome incense; and the sound of angry psalmody is a dismal noise. The sacrifice of the grudging is an ant-like offering, and it will never approach the altars of the circumcised. The angry man sees disordered dreams, and the wrathful imagines attacks of wild beasts. The patient man sees visions, the meeting of holy angels; and the one who does not hold grudges exercises spiritual discourses, and in the night receives the solutions of mysteries.

Chapter 11. Concerning Sorrow. A monk suffering sorrow does not know spiritual joy; for sorrow is a depression of the soul, and it consists of thoughts of anger. For anger is the defense of desire, and the failure of defense has engendered sorrow; sorrow is the mouth of a lion, and it easily devours the one suffering. Sorrow is a worm of the heart, and it devours the mother who bore it. A mother giving birth to a child, if she has been spared from the pain of labor, does not suffer much; but sorrow being born moves much pain, and remaining after the pangs, she does not suffer a little. A monk suffering sorrow does not know spiritual joy, just as one with a high fever does not taste honey. A monk suffering sorrow will not move the mind toward contemplation, nor will he send up pure prayer; for sorrow is an obstacle to everything good. Fetters of the feet are an obstacle to the race, and sorrow is an obstacle to contemplation. A captive from the barbarians is bound in irons, and a captive from the passions is bound by sorrow. Sorrow is not powerful when other passions are not present, just as A chain is not strong when those binding it are not present. He who is bound by sorrow is conquered by the passions, and he brings the bond upon himself as a proof of defeat. For sorrow consists upon the failure of fleshly desire; and desire is joined to every passion. He who conquered desire, conquered the passions; and he who conquered the passions will not be held by sorrow. The self-controlled one is not grieved by the failure of foods, nor the temperate one protesting against unrestrained folly, nor the one without anger falling from defense, nor the humble one being deprived of human honor, nor the one not fond of silver falling into loss; for they strongly diverted that desire; just as one who is armored does not receive an arrow, so the impassive one is not pierced by sorrow.

Chapter 12. A shield to a soldier, and a wall to a city, is security; [and...]

But passion is more dangerous to the monk than both pleasure and sorrow; for a whistling arrow has often pierced a gate, and a multitude of soldiers has undermined a wall, but sorrow will not overcome apatheia. He who is mastered by passion has been mastered by sorrow, but he who is defeated by pleasure will not escape its bonds. He who grieves continuously and pretends at apatheia is like one who is sick and pretends at health; for just as the sick man is revealed by his color, so the one full of passion is exposed by sorrow. He who loves the world will be grieved much, but he who holds the things in it in contempt will be joyful through all things. A lover of silver, having been defrauded, will be grieved bitterly, but he who holds things in contempt will be without sorrow. The ambitious man will be grieved when dishonor comes upon him, but the humble-minded man will receive this as a companion. A crucible cleanses unproven silver, and Godly sorrow in sins is like this; continuous refining diminishes lead, and worldly sorrow diminishes the intellect. A cloud dims the energy of the eyes, and sorrow blunts the contemplative intellect; a sunbeam does not pass through the depths of water, and the contemplation of light does not shine upon a heavy heart. The rising of the sun is sweet to all men, but even this is displeasing to a grieving soul. The taste of an oyster is taken away from the sense of taste, and sorrow takes away the sense of the soul. But he who holds the pleasures of the world in contempt will not be troubled by thoughts of sorrow.

CHAPTER 13. Concerning Acedia. Acedia is a listlessness of the soul, and a soul lacking listlessness does not stand against trials with courage. For what is nourishment to a healthy body, this is a trial to a courageous soul. The north wind nourishes the crops, and trials confirm the endurance of the soul. A cloud without water is driven by the wind, and the mind lacking endurance is driven by the spirit of acedia. Spring dew increases the fruit of the field, and the spiritual word increases the state of the soul. A flood of acedia drives the monk from his cell, but he who has endurance remains at peace always. When others are weak, the one suffering acedia is cast out, but he who is full of confidence maintains his own purpose. An acedia-stricken monk is sharp toward service, and considers the commandment to be his own confidence; a limp plant was bent by a light breeze, and the fantasy of departure drew the acedia-stricken man away. A well-rooted tree will not be shaken by the violence of winds, and...

Acedia and Vainglory§5

The Destructive Nature of Vainglory§6

6When it reaches the top, it dries up the root, and vainglory clings to virtues and does not depart until it cuts off the power. A cluster of grapes being pulled toward the earth rots easily, and virtue is destroyed when leaning upon vainglory. A vainglorious monk is a useless worker; he has undergone the toil, but did not receive the reward. A shaken money-bag does not keep what was thrown into it, and vainglory destroys the rewards of virtues. The self-control of a vainglorious man is like the smoke of a furnace, and both shall be dissolved into the air. The wind makes the trace of a man vanish, and so does the almsgiving of a vainglorious man. A stone thrown does not reach heaven, and a prayer of one seeking human approval will not ascend to God.

Chapter 16. Vainglory is a treacherous rock; if you lean upon it, you have lost your load. A wise man hides a treasure, and a prudent monk hides the toil of virtue. Vainglory advises praying in the marketplaces, but he who fights this prays into his own treasury. A foolish man publishes his wealth, and moves many to plot against him. But you hide your own things, for on the road you may encounter robbers, until you reach the city of peace and use your things safely. The virtue of a vainglorious man is like a crushed incense burner, and it will certainly not be carried to the altar of God.

Acedia loosens the tension of the soul, but vainglory agitates the mind of one fallen from God; it has made the weak man shout, and the old man stronger than the young, only if many witnesses of the things happening are present; then fasting, wakefulness, and prayer are light, for the praise of the many stirs up the readiness. Do not sell your toils for human glories, nor betray the glory to come through favorable speech. For human glory dwells in dust, and its fame is extinguished upon the earth, but the glory of virtue remains for the age.

Chapter 17. Concerning pride. Pride is a hollow swelling of the soul.

The Fall of Pride§7

The Scorn of Pride and the Safety of Humility§8

8The scorpion. Why do you lift up your neck for that which in a little while will be rotting? A great man helped by God has been abandoned, and the weakness of nature has been recognized. You have nothing that you have not received from God; why then do you plant yourself in another's property as if it were your own? Why do you adorn the grace of God as if it were your own possession? Recognize the Giver, and do not lift yourself up too much; you are a creature of God, do not deny the Creator; helped by God, do not deny the Benefactor. You ascended to the height of a position, but He guided you there; you established virtue, but He worked it. Acknowledge the one who exalted you, so that you may remain firm in that height; recognize the one who is of the same kind, because He is of the same essence. Do not deny the kinship through arrogance.

Chapter 19. That person is humble, and proportionate; but the same Creator fashioned both. Do not despise the humble; for he has been established more securely for you; he walks upon the earth, and does not fall quickly; but the lofty one, if he falls, will be shattered. A proud tree is one without roots, and it will not withstand the blow of a wind. A walled city, a blind intellect, and the one dwelling in it will be safe. A wind-blown grain is tossed about, and the blow of a wind lifts up the proud; a cracked vessel will be destroyed, and the memory of the proud is blotted out. The word of the humble is a polishing of the soul, but the word of the proud is filled with arrogance. The prayer of the humble bends God down, but the petition of the proud provokes God. Humility is the roof of a house, and it keeps the one ascending safe. When you ascend to the height of virtues, then you have great need of security. For he who falls from the ground is quickly raised, but he who falls from on high risks death. A precious stone is fitted to a golden setting, and a man's humility is beautified by many virtues.