10. And what I now tell you without flattery, that indeed you have received the greatest benefit from your sorrow, let me speak plainly; for otherwise I cannot prove it to you. You know and remember your former life, that is, the life before temptation; examine it attentively and compare it with the present life after the temptation, and you will see what benefit has come to you from this calamity. Now you have great zeal for fasting, and for night vigils, and for reading, and for the exercise of prayer; likewise, patience and humility have reached the highest degree in you; and before that you did not think at all about books, and used all your care and labor in caring for garden trees. Many, as I have heard, have even reproached you with pride, and explained it by the nobility of your family, the glory of your father, and your upbringing in great wealth. How lazy you were in the night vigils, you know this very well. Often, when others got up hastily in the dead of night, you remained in a deep sleep and angry with those who woke you up. And now, since you entered into this struggle and struggle, all this has ceased and changed for the better. If you ask me why God did not allow the demon to attack you when you lived in luxury and were attached to worldly affairs, then I will answer that this also was the work of His providence; He knew that then the enemy would soon destroy you, finding you easily defeated. For this reason God did not call you to this struggle as soon as you entered the monastic life, but left you to exercise for a long time, and then, when you were strengthened, He led you to this difficult field. You also mention those who live in the world, and point to your servant; for I think you mean it when you say that many of the worldly people, having been subjected to the same disease, received a complete healing very soon. But, most dear, your servant and others, who were subjected to the same calamity as him, did not experience this for the same purpose as you do now: God allowed this beast to be used against him and others, in order only to frighten them and make them better through fear, but against you in order that you might fight courageously, conquer gloriously, and receive a crown for patience. And victory does not consist in the fact that the warrior avoids fighting the enemy even during the spectacle, but when he remains ready to fight at all times; then the adversary will not be able to bring him to any worthless thoughts even by despondency. And that this is really so, I plainly conclude from the following. Everyone knows, though you humble yourself, how much better your life is than that of your servant. For this reason God also cares for you more than for him. If this is clear, then it is also evident that if God's allowance had been the work of His wrath, He would not have subjected to it for so long the one whom He loves most, while He soon delivered from the demon another, who is much worse than you. This I can attest, not only by what has been said, but also, from what you conclude from which you conclude that God has forsaken you, I will try to prove that He cares especially for you. If you had not shown great diligence and had not made long journeys to converse with holy men and those who have the power to loose these bonds, then some of the ordinary people might have been perplexed, since the reason why God would have allowed (you to suffer) for so long would not have been very clear. But since you visited the places of the martyrs, where many were healed, even of those who (in demonic possession) bit people, you lived for a long time with wondrous, valiant men who always succeeded (to heal the sick), and did not omit anything at all; what could have freed you from suffering, and yet you returned again with the same enemy; then you have brought a clear and intelligible proof even for very inattentive people of God's providence for you. God, of course, would not have deprived you of His grace, and would not have allowed His servants to be put to shame, if He had not seen from this great glory and greater benefit for you. Thus, what seems to be a sign of God's abandonment of you is a sign of His great love and goodwill towards you.

SECOND WORD.

In the preceding (sermon) we have spoken of God's Providence and that God tests you in a certain way, not out of disgust or hatred, but out of special love. But since, according to your words, you lament very much for another reason, namely, because the demon often suggests to you the idea of destroying yourself in the sea or the abyss, or of ending your present life in some other way, I want to talk a little about these thoughts as well. Such suggestion comes not only from him alone, but also from your despondency, and even more from the latter than from the former, and perhaps from despondency alone. This is evident from the fact that many of those who are not possessed by a demon plot the same thing only out of sorrow. Reject it and expel it from the soul, then the demon will not have the strength not only to persuade to such a deed, but also to proceed to suggestion. Just as thieves at nightfall, having extinguished the fire, can very easily steal property and kill its owners, so now the demon, having brought despondency instead of night and darkness, tries to steal away all the guarding thoughts, in order to attack the soul deprived of them and helpless, inflicting innumerable wounds on it. When, having dispelled this darkness with hope in God and turning to the sun of righteousness, someone hastens to receive its rays into his soul, then the confusion from these thoughts will pass on to the thief himself; for even these criminals, when someone catches them and brings in fire, tremble, are timid, and are troubled. How, you will say, can one be freed from this sorrow without first freeing oneself from the demon who causes it? It is not the demon that causes despondency, but it makes the demon strong and inspires evil thoughts. Blessed Paul can testify to this; and he feared, not some demon, but excessive sorrow, when he wrote to the Corinthians, asking them to forgive the sinner at last his sin: "Not with much sorrow," he says, "shall such a man be sacrificed" (2 Cor. II, 7). But suppose, if you want a demon to attack you, and despondency is expelled from your soul, what harm will it do? What evil, great or small, can the demon inflict on us by itself? Despondency can do much evil even without it, and most of those who put a noose on themselves, or stabbed themselves with the sword, or drowned themselves in the rivers, or destroyed themselves in some other way, were drawn to such a violent death by despondency; but if among these people there are some of those possessed by the demon, then their destruction must not be attributed to the demon, but to the influence and power of despondency. How is it possible, you will say, not to lose heart? It is possible if, rejecting the opinions of the crowd on this subject, you will think about things above. Now your situation seems terrible to you, because the crowd thinks it so; but if you wish to examine it accurately in itself, and to discard an empty and erroneous prejudice, you will find that it presents no cause for despondency, as we have repeatedly proved. As for your peers (whose good-humor and boldness you see before the brethren, and because of this, I think, you are confused and discouraged), I say that if, while they spend their lives in abstinence, modesty, and the other virtues of a wise life, you spend all your time in obscene houses, in games and feasts, your despondency would have a cause; but if you follow the same path with them, then why should you be sad? If I were to speak to anyone else, one of those who are easily carried away by pride, I would keep silent about what I now intend to say to you. But since I am quite sure that you will never cease to be modest, but will always consider yourself among the latter, even if you are immensely praised and extolled, I will say everything without the least pretending. You, I hear, have succeeded so well in your pious life that you are no longer inferior not only to those young men, but also to great and wondrous men. And from these, they say, you do not lag behind in anything, neither in fasting (and is it possible otherwise, when you eat only water and bread, and then every other day?), nor in the duration of the nightly vigils, but like them you spend many nights without sleep in a row. And in the passage of the day, they say, you have already surpassed many of them; from those who come from there I hear stories that you spend all your time praying and crying; And just as those who struggle in silence, or who have shut themselves up in solitude in a cell, do not talk to anyone about anything, so do you, they say, living in the midst of such a multitude of people. Of thy heartfelt contrition, of sorrow and lamentation, they speak even with amazement, and with these stories of thy exploits here have brought many to contrition. He does not look, they say, at anyone who comes there, and does not give himself rest from constant labor, we have often feared that he would blind his eyes with tears, that he would damage the brain by excessive vigilance and unceasing and uninterrupted exercise in reading.

2. And so, you are saddened and troubled by the fact that you have already outstripped your peers, and having a strong and bold opponent, you have left far behind you those who struggle with you! Have I not truly said that your despondency is only the result of prejudice, and on careful examination can give us many inducements even to complacency? Tell me, what is the use of not being possessed, if in doing so life is left in neglect? And what harm is there from demonic possession, if at the same time the way of life is strict and well-ordered? But perhaps you are ashamed and blush when the demon overthrows you in someone's presence? This is because you judge a matter according to the opinion of the crowd, and not according to prudence. The fall does not consist in what you say happens to you, but in falling into sin; with such a fall, one should be ashamed and complain. And now we are ashamed of that which has nothing shameful in it; on the contrary, when we do what is really shameful and worthy of ridicule and heavy punishment, we think that nothing bad has happened to us, if the soul falls every day under the weight of sins, then no one weeps; and if something like this happens to the body, it seems difficult and unbearable. Is this not what possession consists of, when the soul is in such a state and so erroneously judges things? If your fits were due to drunkenness, you should be ashamed and discouraged; then the guilt would be arbitrary, but if they arise from the violence of another, then it is not the one who endures that should be ashamed, but the one who does the offense and violence. So in the square, if during a quarrel one pushes the other and throws him to the ground, we all blame the one who pushed him, and not the one who fell. It is good to be ashamed, but only when we do something that brings upon us the punishment of Him who will one day judge us; And while we do not know anything about ourselves, why should we be ashamed? If a man, attacking you alone, were to strike you or throw you to the ground without any cause or fault on your part, and you were to bear everything with meekness and depart, then your deed would not be shameful, but wise and very praiseworthy. If, then, it is commendable to endure the injury done by men, why should he be ashamed, as if it were a reprehensible deed, who complacently endures the fury of the worst demon who does the same thing? What can be more incongruous than such a contradiction? If you, rising from your fit, were to do or say anything unseemly, then I would not hinder you from lamenting and lamenting one thing; And if you endure everything with thanksgiving and immediately turn to prayers, then what is there to be ashamed of? Perhaps you are upset by the reproaches of others? But what can be more reprehensible than people who do not know even that which deserves reproach? These people are truly insane and possessed – they who do not know how to look at things as they are in essence, and who scold what is worthy of praise, and consider what is reprehensible praiseworthy. Madmen say a lot of bad things to those around them, but those who listen to them do not think of being offended. In the same way, when you listen to these fools, do not consider what happens to you to be a disgrace and harm, lest you really become worthy of condemnation by angering God. If you consider shameful what God sends for admonition and benefit, then see to what this evil leads.

3. If you want to see people who are really worthy of shame and condemnation, then I will try to point out to you some of them. Look at those who are seduced by feminine beauty, at those who are addicted to money, at those who love power and glory and are ready to do and endure everything for this, at those who are exhausted by envy, at those who plot against those who have not offended them in any way, at those who give themselves over to despondency without any reason, at people who are constantly carried away by the vanities of life; These and similar deeds are insane and worthy of punishment, deserving of condemnation, shame, and ridicule. And whoever, being attacked by a demon, nevertheless shows great wisdom in his life, deserves that everyone not only does not condemn him, but also marvels at him and adorns him with crowns, because with such bonds he makes such a difficult journey and ascends the steep and narrow path of virtue. However, I have almost forgotten something in which you have an advantage over the brethren – namely, that you can easily, if you have sinned in something, atone for these sins by the present misfortune. This is known to us from what I said above, when I spoke about Lazarus and the fornicator of Corinth. But I fear for my father, you say; I can bear my sorrows calmly, but will it be easy for us to endure his confusion and indignation if he ever learns any of this? However, he has not yet learned; and to be discouraged and tormented by what will happen sometime after, or perhaps never to happen, is very cowardly. And how do we know what he will know? However, let it be known to us; suppose, if you wish, that he will learn and do much evil; I praise thee for grieving over his sorrows, but I do not approve of the fact that thou dost do this to thy detriment; those who think about things above, and not about earthly things, must overcome not only anger and lust and other passions, but also despondency; for it can do us more harm than these passions, and it must be courageously fought by those who do not want to perish completely. If you yourself were to be the author of your father's sorrows, then you should really fear and tremble, as the author of such a calamity; but if he wants to subject himself to extreme grief, you have nothing to do with them; It remains only to sympathize with the father. Moreover, we do not know how he will receive this news; often many things happened contrary to expectations; Although this is not so common and rare, in this case it is both natural and very possible. Where do you see what? Your father cares much for his illegitimate children, and such love for them may overshadow his sorrow for you; Do not torment yourself with vain worries. If it is necessary to complain about the father, then about his insane extravagance, feasting, pride, cruelty, and the present life of fornication. Is it really a small evil, in your opinion, to have an affair with another woman during the lifetime of your wife, your mother, and to bear children from lawless cohabitation? This obvious deed, leading to a bad end, is worthy of lamentation and tears; and what happens because of you, perhaps it will be bad, and perhaps it will not be bad; to endure certain torment in view of an unknown future is very reckless. Let us even suppose that the news of you will be received (by your father) with great indignation; but it will end very soon and will be extinguished before it burns well; for a man who is so devoted to pleasures, who is so preoccupied with many things, who feeds freeloaders and flatterers, and who is aflame with such passion for a woman by whom he has half-relatives to you, if he pays attention to you, it is not long or insignificant. I conclude this not only from what I have said, but also from what has happened before; I know, I know well, that your father formerly loved you dearly, and considered your head more precious than anything else; but when you entered the monastic life, he extinguished all this love, recognized your act as shameful and unworthy of the nobility of your ancestors, and said that you had disgraced his honor; if the force of nature had not restrained him, he might even have renounced you. In this way, if these words do not prove to be very rash, I think that he is even glad of what has happened to you, considering you to have suffered punishment because you have resolutely refused to accept his advice, although he has often admonished you and wanted to distract you from this strict life.

4. This is what I can say about your father and your fear for him: and this, I think, is enough to dispel all your fear about it. But you said that the main trouble was that you could not hope for the future, and did not know whether there would be an end to your suffering, or whether he who entered into this struggle with you would want to fight with you to the death. Concerning this I can say nothing certain, nor can I vouch for the future; but I know it well, and I wish you also to be convinced that whatever happens will be for our benefit; and if you have such a conviction, you will soon drive away from you what you call the height of your misfortunes. In addition, it must be borne in mind that the time of rewards and crowns is the future age – the time of struggle and feats. Blessed Paul wished to explain this to us, saying: "Thus I flow, not as if it were unknown; so I struggle, not as the air beats; but I mortify my body and enslave it, so that I may not preach in any other way, I myself will not be included (1 Cor. IX, 26, 27). When he was approaching his end, then he pronounced the following blessed saying: "Fight the good fight, the course is dead, I have kept the faith, and the rest I have kept the crown of righteousness" (2 Tim. IV, 7), explaining that our whole life must be spent in struggle and labor, if we are to enjoy eternal rest and innumerable blessings. But if any of the careless wishes to enjoy both the pleasures of this world and the rewards prepared for the laborers, he deceives and deceives himself. Just as among wrestlers he who seeks peace during the struggle finds shame and disgrace for himself forever, and he who bravely endures all difficulties at the place of struggle, receives crowns, glory and praise from the spectators both during the struggle and after it, so it is with us. Whoever makes the time of labor a time of rest, will groan, gnash his teeth, and endure extreme torment when it is necessary to calm down with eternal rest; and whoever here endures sorrows with good humor, both here and there will shine and enjoy immortal and true glory. If, in the affairs of life, a man who does something inopportunely does not attain what he had in mind, and exposes himself to innumerable calamities, how much more will he experience this who does not know the appointed times in spiritual matters. Christ said, "In the world ye shall be in sorrow" (John 2:10). XVI, 33). Blessed Paul said: "And all who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus shall be persecuted" (2 Tim. III, 12), meaning not only persecution from people, but also the intrigues of demons. Job said, "Temptation is a man's life on earth" (Job. VII, 1). Why do you lament, enduring sorrows during sorrows? It would be necessary to lament if we were to make the time which Christ would call the time of sorrow, a time of pleasure and rest; if, at the time when we are commanded to strive and work, we gave ourselves over to idleness; if we had walked the broad way, when He commanded us to walk the strait. For this, we would inevitably have to suffer punishment in that age. But what would you say, you say, about those who walk here also on the broad path and will rest there? Who are these people? I believe only the word of Christ, who says that narrow and strait is the way, bring it into the life (Matt. VII, 14). And that one can never follow a narrow path as a broad one, this, of course, is clear to everyone. If in worldly warfare no one received a crown without labor, having as his opponents the same people, then how can we, against whom the evil forces fight, overcome their fury without sorrow and embarrassment?

5. However, why should we prove this by reasoning, when we can have recourse to the blessed and valiant ascetics who lived in former times? Remember all those who were glorified in those times, and you will see that through sorrows they all attained boldness before God. First of all, if you wish, let us turn to the son of the first-created, the lamb of Christ, Abel, who did no evil, and yet suffered what the most grievous sinners are subjected to. We endure temptations as a punishment for our sins; and this righteous man suffered not for anything else, but for being righteous. As long as he was not distinguished by anything great, his brother was benevolent to him, but when he became famous for his sacrifice, Cain, blinded by envy, did not look at nature. Why do you know whether it is not this reason that has now stirred up the devil against you, and whether it is not the glory of your life that has provoked him to this struggle? If you laugh at these words of mine, I praise you for your humility, but I will not cease to think so. If Abel, having brought fat, pleased God, how much more could he dedicate to God not something outward, but all of himself, and could arm the enemy against him. But God has allowed him to attack you, just as then He did not prevent the murder from being committed, but allowed the righteous to fall into the hands of the murderer, and did not deliver him who suffered death for His sake and His glory; He did not want to reduce Abel's crowns, so he allowed him to go to the end. But, you say, what punishment is death? Oh, if only I could suffer such a punishment now! This, beloved, you say now, but before death seemed more painful and painful than any punishment. Therefore, according to the Law of Moses, those who committed the greatest and unforgivable sin were subjected to this punishment. And according to the laws of external (pagan) legislators, even now all those convicted of the most heinous crimes are punished in no other way; Meanwhile, this righteous man suffered the same as the wrongdoers, or even much more severely, since he received a blow at the hands of his brother. And what about Noah? And he was righteous and perfect, and in the midst of the general corruption he pleased God alone, while all the others offended him. And yet he endured countless sorrows and grievous ones. He did not die as soon as Abel, nor did he suffer what seems easy to you, but he endured a long life, and for many years he lived no better than those who bear burdens and are constantly worn out by the heaviest burdens. I will now fully explain this to you, having previously told you the following. For a whole year Noah lived as if in prison, in a prison unusual and terrible. I will not speak of the multitude of beasts and reptiles with whom he lived so long, imprisoned in such darkness; What do you think he endured from the peals of thunder, from the noise of the rains? The lower abyss was opened, the upper one was overthrown; And inside the ark he sat alone with his sons. Although he could have been sure that the flood would end, the extreme nature of the event made him petrified with fear in advance. If we, having houses firmly built on the earth, and living in cities, lose heart and are troubled when we see that the rain is pouring a little more than usual, what did he not endure, being alone inside the ark and seeing the most terrible abyss and the various generations of those who died in it? The soul can be terrified when one city or even one house is destroyed by the waves during a flood; and when the whole universe suffered this, it is impossible to say in what condition the one who rushed about in the midst of such a flood was. And for a whole year he was in such fear. When the flood ceased, although his fear decreased, his sorrow increased. As soon as he came out of the ark, he met another storm, no less than the first, seeing a great desert, a violent death, the bodies of the dead mingled with mud and mud, and all together, men, donkeys, and inferior animals, buried in the same miserable grave. Although those who perished in the flood were great sinners, yet Noah was a man and had compassion for those who had the same nature as him. In the same way, Ezekiel, although he was righteous and knew that the Israelites were the most wicked of all, yet when he saw them struck down and falling, he also had compassion and wept; whereas, God had revealed to him beforehand all their wickedness, and had enabled him to see it with his own eyes, so that when he saw them punished, he might bravely endure this misfortune; and yet, after such relief, he complained, and when he fell, he cried thus: O Lord, that thou mayest consume the remains of Israel (Ezek. IX, 8)? And this happened to him not only once, but also another time, when he saw the death of Jeconiah. In the same way, Noah, although he knew about the innumerable crimes of his contemporaries, was not more courageous than either Ezekiel or Moses. And Moses suffered many times in the same way as the prophet, and seeing that those who sinned had to suffer punishment, he lamented and grieved more than those who were punished themselves. But under Noah the calamity was more terrible; for such a death as happened under him was the only one. Then, when Noah was afflicted with such great calamities; – loneliness, compassion for his fellow countrymen, the multitude of those who died, the manner of their death, the desolation of the land, and when his sorrow greatly increased and grew on all sides, then another insult was inflicted on him from his son – an unbearable, very shameful and very sorrowful insult. As many times as insults from friends are heavier than insults from enemies, so many times insults from children are more intolerable than insults from friends. Thus, when the father sees that the one whom he has begotten, whom he has raised, whom he has educated, for whom he has endured many sorrows, labors and cares, treats him more offensively than anyone else, when he experiences this, he is not able to endure the great sorrow of the soul. Offense for a free person is intolerable in itself; but when it is inflicted by one's own children, it can even drive the offended person to a frenzy; it is so heavy! Moreover, keep in mind not only this insult, but also conclude from it how the offender treated Noah in all previous times. If Ham, while still having a terrible event before him, had just been freed from such a prison, and still seeing the calamities of the universe, did not understand it, but insulted him whom it was least necessary to insult; if he was not corrected by the death of so many people, or by the desolation of the earth, or by the wrath of God, or by any other of the events of that time, then what was he like before the flood, when there were many that led him to vices? Yes, then, because of this (the son) and the rest of the people, the righteous man endured a more severe storm than that which was at the time of the flood itself. At the time of the flood he was surrounded only by a great deal of water; and before the flood he was enveloped on all sides by an abyss of vices, and the intrigues of evil people troubled him more than the waves. Being left alone in the midst of such a multitude of lawless and wicked people, although he suffered no harm from them, he endured much ridicule and mockery, if not before, then when he spoke to them about the ark and future disasters. And how such ridicule can disturb the soul, we can testify to this one who was sanctified from his mother's womb and wanted to even renounce prophecy because of this; and he said, saith (Jeremiah), I will not cry unto him (Jer. XX, 9). In addition, how much grief, how much sorrow Noah was caused by the fact that there was no one who was the same with him either in soul or in life! Not only that: he endured many sorrows from condolences for his contemporaries. Do the righteous grieve only when they see sinners dying, and when they see them sinning, do they not grieve? No, in the latter case they are much more distressed than in the former. And this can be well learned from the prophets. One of them bitterly cried out: "Oh, be cruel to me, my soul, for the pious have perished from the earth, and there is no one who corrects among men" (Mic. VII, 2). And the other said to God: "Thou hast shown me the labors and illnesses of watching" (Avvak. I, H)? And grieving greatly for the oppressed, he wept thus: "Thou hast made men as servants of the sea, having no elders" (14). But if this was the case when there were laws, and rulers, and tribunals, and priests, and prophets, and punishments, then imagine to what extent all vices extended under Noah, when nothing of the kind restrained people. Moreover, with vices, human life did not last long, seventy or eighty years; and then it extended to six hundred years or more. In addition to all that has been said, how much labor must he have to endure, having traveled such a long way, and trying in such a long time not to be in the least deflected by the many obstacles encountered? What do I say: of many, when the whole way was like this, all from one end of the earth to the other was full of rocks and thorns, wild beasts and stench, pestilence and cold, and evildoers? Truly, it is more convenient to walk in the deepest night along a narrow path than along the path of virtue in those days: how many people were trying to seduce Noah from his path! When everyone can do whatever they want, and only one follows the opposite path, how can he reach the end if everyone oppresses and drags him back? And how difficult it is to lead a virtuous life among a multitude of people, this is proved by those who have settled in the deserts, at the present time, when, by the grace of God, everywhere one can see a good life, unanimity, and no small love for one another. At that time there was none of this, but everyone treated Noah more ferociously than even wild beasts.

6. What can be more deplorable, what is more miserable than such a life? I promised to show that Noah's condition was no better than that of those who constantly carry burdens and never have rest; but my word did much more, revealing to us that Noah's condition was not only no better, but much more difficult than theirs. It seems to many that Abraham lived complacently all the time, which is why they are accustomed to comparing with him those who are prosperous and happy in all respects. Let us consider what happened to him. In my opinion, he is much more than Noah and Abel... but I would rather say nothing until the very consideration of events has given us a solution. What happened to him in Persia, and whether anything sorrowful happened to him before the seventy years of his life, no one can know for sure. And Blessed Moses did not write us a history of this time, but, omitting all these years of his life, he began to narrate from the following years. And that Abraham probably suffered in the same way as Noah, when he alone wanted to live godly among so many wicked and foreigners, is not so unknown as the rest, and even the most foolish people can easily understand it. However, let us leave this for the moment; Let us begin with the migration of Abraham, considering first of all how far the land of the Chaldeans was from Palestine, what was the condition of the roads, what were the mutual relations of people, what was the social structure. From the fact that the righteous man easily obeyed, one should not now consider the matter itself easy, and from the fact that Moses spoke about the event concisely and briefly, it is not necessary to think that the deed itself is as brief as the words; it is easy to say and describe it; But it is not so easy to do, on the contrary, it is very difficult. The length of the journey, and how great the distance between these countries is, might therefore be said with certainty by those who would have come to us from there, if there were any. But we did not see any of them, and when we met one of those who were in a neighboring country and asked how much time he was to spend on the road, we heard that - thirty-five days; however, he said, he had not seen Babylon, but had heard from those who had been there that there was another way of equal length. Such was the distance then, and such is it now; but the condition of the roads then was not the same as it is now. Nowadays there are often inns, cities, and villages on the road, and the traveler may meet many travelers, and this is no less important for safety than the inn, the city, and the village. Moreover, the governors of the city, having chosen from the country men who differed from others in bodily strength, and who were able to act with javelin and sling in the same way as archers with arrows and spearmen with spears, and having placed over them commanders, relieved them of all other work, and entrusted them only with the protection of the roads. And then they devised another, more reliable, measure of security: having built dwellings by the roadside at a distance of a thousand paces from each other, they placed in them night watchmen, whose vigilance and supervision serve as a great obstacle to the attacks of evildoers. And in the time of Abraham there was none of this: no frequent villages, no cities, no inns; it was not soon that you could see an inn or a companion, or anything like that; not to mention the unevenness of the roads and the inconstancy of the winds, although even these inconveniences, even without them, can cause quite a lot of trouble to travelers. This can be witnessed by those who, having carts and draft animals, do not dare to go on them along the ordinary road, if they do not pave it with stones beforehand and, having blocked the potholes from the streams, do not level the road in this way. At that time, the road was more deserted than uninhabited places, more impassable than mountains, more dangerous than ditches and rocks. But I have not yet spoken of the most important inconvenience, which was the mutual relations of men, which caused them much more difficult difficulties than the road itself, since all were divided according to nations, or even according to cities. It was not then as it is now, when one power extends over the greater part of the universe, and all are subject to one man and governed by the same laws; but as one body cut into many parts, so was the human race divided at that time: the righteous had to exchange one enemy for another, and as soon as he fled from one, he always fell on another; because in one place there was a plurality of beginnings, in another – a lack of authority. What is more difficult than such a life? Moreover, Abraham feared and trembled not only for himself, but also for his father, and for his wife, and for his nephew. He also had no small concern for his servants, even when they were at home, and even more so when they often had to be in a foreign land. And if he had known exactly where his pilgrimage would end, his cares would not have been so unbearable; but now, having heard simply and vaguely about the earth, not about this or that, but what I will show you (Gen. 2:11). XII, 1), he mentally went around all countries and experienced great confusion in his soul, because he could not stop thinking anywhere, but had to doubt and worry about many things. He could have thought that he would go to the very ends of the universe and to the ocean, so that, although he did not go through the whole earth, he endured the anxiety of such a journey. In his heart he was ready not only to go as far as Palestine, but to follow everywhere, even if he were commanded to traverse the whole universe, or even to go to islands outside it. If, however, the vagueness of the command made one expect both of the opposite, then this too was difficult. Whoever has to endure something difficult is much easier to know clearly what he will be subjected to and what he must prepare for, than to rush his thoughts everywhere and wait for what is favorable, then unfavorable, and not to hope for anything, but equally not to trust both.

7. This happened to Abraham before his arrival in the promised land; but when he reached Palestine and hoped at last to calm down, then he found an even greater storm in the very harbor. And it is not easy, on the contrary, it is very difficult when someone, thinking that his sorrow is over, and that he is already free from it, therefore, putting aside all care and care, suddenly has to begin again to struggle with troubles. He who expects disasters can more easily endure their coming; but whoever has calmed down and renounced his cares, if something similar to the former happens to him again, is indignant and more easily succumbs to grief for two reasons: because of the suddenness of the calamity, and because he has laid aside all care and precaution. So, what storm came upon Abraham? At that time there was such a great famine in Palestine that Abraham immediately rose from there and went to Egypt. Having come there in the hope of finding deliverance from the calamity, he was again beset by a misfortune more grievous than famine, exposed to extreme danger. He then fell into such fear that he even decided to do what was most intolerable to all men; This is a mockery of their wives. He then went to such an extreme that he even resorted to hypocrisy, and what could be more difficult than this? What do you think was in his soul when he was forced to advise his wife as follows: "I know that you are a good wife." For when the Egyptians see thee, they shall say that this is his wife; and they will kill me, and they will provide for you. For I am his sister, that it may be good for thee for thy sake, and my soul may live for thy sake (Gen. 2:10). XII, 12, 13)? These words were spoken by one who had left for God his fatherland, and home, and friends, and relatives, and everything else in the house, and who had endured such sorrow and so much labor during the long time of his journey. However, he did not then say anything like this: "God has forsaken me, turned away, and deprived me of his providence"; no, he endured everything courageously and with faith; and whoever should be most angry when his wife was subjected to reproach in the greatest extremity, tried in every way that the reproach should not be made manifest. And with what this is combined with despondency and grief, it is impossible to express in words, but those who have had wives and have fallen into trouble with jealousy know this. Solomon also testifies to this passion when he says thus: "For her husband's wrath is full of jealousy; He will not spare in the day of judgment; He will not betray at the price of enmity, but will be resolved by many gifts (Prov. VI, 34); and again: strong as death, love, cruel, like hell, jealousy (Song of Songs. VIII, 6). And if the jealous one is thus inflamed, is not he more unfortunate than anyone who has fallen into such misfortune that he is even compelled to flatter the offender and to take every effort to ensure that the adulterer, whom he should take revenge, conveniently takes advantage of his wife? When these disasters were over, other difficulties arose again: the famine was followed by war. I do not speak now of the quarrel of the shepherds and the separation from his nephew, although even this, if compared with other circumstances, could cause (Abraham) great despondency. When Lot, who had been saved by him, and had received so much good, was therefore obliged to yield to him in all things, and to punish his shepherds, when this man, taking advantage of the choice given to him, took for himself the most fruitful countries, and left him more desolate places, who could easily bear it? I am not speaking of loss, but of the fact that he who has shown respect is himself disrespected, and receives the worst part, which seems to be heavier than any loss. However, I omit all this now, because we are talking about the Patriarch, and not about any of the ordinary people.

8. Thus the famine was followed by war with the Persians, and Abraham was compelled to march against them, not at the very beginning, when both sides were still strong, but when the allies were all put to flight, the victory was with the enemy, and no one could resist them, for some were utterly defeated, others fled, and some were enslaved by them. However, nothing kept Abraham at home, but, oppressed by great grief over what had happened, he went to share the misfortune with the vanquished, exposing himself to an obvious death; for it was possible to go out to battle with such a large army, having a little over three hundred household members, only by calculating and deciding on capture, torture and innumerable deaths. So he went ready to test the ferocity of the barbarians; but when he was saved by God's love for mankind and returned with booty and a relative, he again had to weep over his own grief – I mean childlessness and the fact that he did not have an heir. If you only now hear him complaining before God and saying, "What have you given me?" But I am departed childless (Gen. XV, 2), then do not think that he has now only felt this grief; no, this care and anxiety entered the house of the righteous man together with his young wife, or even before the wife herself. Usually, all of us, as soon as we begin to consult and talk about marriage, are disturbed by all the concerns associated with it, of which the most important is about children, and fear (childlessness) from that very day disturbs our souls. If it happens that one year, or two, or even three years (without children) pass after marriage, then despondency increases, and hopes for joy weaken; but when more time has passed, then hope completely leaves us, and despondency takes possession of the soul, darkening all the pleasures of life and not allowing us to enjoy anything. Thus, if none of such numerous disasters had befallen Abraham, but everything had been according to his wishes, only the despondency of childlessness, which accompanied all the events of his life, would have been able to darken and destroy all complacency. God's promise followed already in his extreme old age, when nature no longer gave hope (for childbearing); and all that preceded so long he spent in sorrow and sorrow; and the more he saw his wealth increase, the more he grieved, having no heir. What do you think he endured when he heard, "Thy seed shall be in a land that is not his own"; and they shall enslave me, and make me angry for four hundred years (Gen. XV, 13)? And the wife, who now advises Abraham to take her maidservant, and when he has taken her, reproaches and complains, calling upon God, and compels him to cast out the same maidservant who shared his bed and was preparing to bear him a son, whom would she not plunge into utter despondency? To those who think this is of little importance, let him remember that whole houses were upset because of this, and marvel at the righteous man. Although he bravely endured everything through the fear of God, he was a man and suffered and grieved because of all this. Then the maidservant returns to the master's house and bears him a natural son, and Abraham becomes a father after such a long time; This event gave him some pleasure, but still greater despondency. The natural son reminded him of the lawful and aroused the strongest desire of such a son. He thought that the words: "This (householder) shall not be thy heir, but he who shall come out of thee" (Gen. 2:10). XV, 4), were spoken of Ishmael, because nothing had yet been said of Sarah. When at last he received the clearest promise concerning Isaac, and the time of his birth was appointed, before he had time to enjoy this hope, the misfortunes of the Sodomites brought upon him a great cloud of sorrow. And that these calamities did not stir up the righteous man a little, this is evident to everyone from his very words and from the prayer which he lifted up to God for the Sodomites; And when he saw how that terrible rain poured down and everything suddenly turned to dust and ashes, he was already beside himself. If we see houses burning from afar, we are anxious and discouraged by sorrow and fear; what did he not tolerate, seeing how entire cities and villages, together with their inhabitants, were burned by an unusual, but strange and terrible fire? Were not these sufferings of the righteous like the waves on the sea, continually following one another? As there, when one wave has not yet disappeared, others rise, so it was in the whole life of this righteous man. Scarcely had the calamities of Sodom been accomplished than the king of Gerar tried to inflict on Sarah the same disgrace as Pharaoh; and again the wife was forced to resort to lamentable hypocrisy, and dishonor would indeed have been inflicted on her, if God had not again prevented her. And as soon as the son of the slave woman, and the wife, and the whole house began to rejoice at the birth of a legitimate son, a certain righteous man, in the midst of such joy, had to grieve and lament, being forced to expel the concubine together with her son; for although Ishmael was both a natural son and a servant, yet his illegitimacy did not in the least diminish Abraham's natural affection for him, and the low birth of his mother did not weaken the inevitable feeling in his father's heart. This can be learned from the Bible itself. A firm and courageous husband, who decided to sacrifice his only begotten (son) with his own hands, grieved when his wife demanded that he be banished (Hagar); and he would not have yielded or obeyed Sarah, though she had had more courage and spoken to him (more insistently) if the fear of God had not impelled him to do so. Therefore, when you hear that Abraham, by God's command, sent a maidservant with her son, do not think that his sorrow ceased (it was impossible); but marvel at the great humility by which he, though tormented by compassion, did not resist God, but sent the child and his mother away, not even knowing whither they would go; He endured and endured with sorrow, because he was not above nature.

9. Abraham suffered the same because of his legitimate son. Let no one say that he did not grieve and did not suffer like a father, and let no one deprive him of the highest praise, wishing to show his wisdom beyond measure. We are embarrassed and grieved, and often weep, when we see that people are being led to death in the square, who have been convicted of shameful deeds and have led such a life for a long time, and moreover, strangers and never seen by us; How could he not feel human sorrow who was commanded to sacrifice this son, still young, with his own hands, and to offer a burnt offering for his son, who was still young, and offered as a burnt offering? What can be more ridiculous than those who object to this? If he were a stone, or iron, or adamant, then could he not be crushed and moved by the beauty of his son (who was in the prime of his years), the reasonableness of his speech, and the piety of his soul? He asked his father, "Behold, fire and wood, where is the sheep?" and he heard that God would see a sheep for a burnt offering (Gen. 2:10). XXII, 7), but asked no more; he saw that his father bound him and did not resist; he was laid on the wood, and did not jump off; saw the knife being brought to him, and was not dismayed! What can be more pious than this soul? Who else would dare to say that Abraham did not suffer from all this in the least? If he were to sacrifice the enemy and the enemy, if he were a beast, and then could he do it without sorrow? No, no; do not ascribe such cruelty to the righteous man: he lamented and lamented. God, he said, will see a sheep for a burnt offering, child. Do you see what pity there is in these words? However, he restrained and suppressed sorrow, and did everything with such readiness as people would do if they met with nothing that would restrain them. And so, having sacrificed his son (for he sacrificed him in his intention), he returns him to his mother healthy and unharmed; and she, having accepted her son and not having had time to rejoice in him enough, leaves her life. And this grieved Abraham not a little. Although she lived with him for a long time, this did not help him to endure his misfortune more easily, on the contrary, it caused him all the more despondency; for we are especially attached to those who have lived with us for a long time, and have given us many proofs of their friendship and virtue. And that this is really so, the patriarch himself proved by his lamentation and weeping for Sarah. And what shall we say of his cares concerning his son, his wife, and his (half) brothers, and all the rest? Anyone who wishes to delve into the details of this will see that the life of the righteous man was much more miserable and filled with greater cares than is now depicted. The Scriptures have spoken only of the most important things, and all the rest that usually happens every day in a house where there are many servants, and husband, and wife, and children, and the care of many matters, are left to our consideration. Thus, you will say; but in each of these sorrows, the greatest joy brought Abraham that he endured all this for God. The same can be a consolation to you; the temptation has come upon you, not by any other allowance, but by God's. If the evil demons, without His permission, did not once dare to attack swine, how much more did they dare to attack your drogocent soul (Matthew, VIII, 30 ff.). Therefore, just as Abraham was greatly rewarded by enduring all things with courage and gratitude, so will he bring the reward to you; if only you do not lose heart and do not murmur, but thank the humane God for everything. In the same way, Blessed Job endured all that he endured, by God's permission; but it was not only that he endured that brought him crowns, but also that he bravely withstood all calamities; and we are all amazed at him, not because the devil has deprived him of everything, but because Job did not sin in all these things below his mouth (Job. I, 22).

10. Remembering Job, I wanted to set forth in my discourse both his long-term sorrows and the exceedience of his sufferings; but, in order not to make the speech too long, I pass on to Isaac. And you, if you want to know exactly what happened to Job, take his book in your hands and delve into the abyss of his misfortunes: and in them you will find great consolation in your own. Although this righteous man is much better than us, he fought with much greater strength; for the evil one rose up against him with special power. However, podvigs are determined not by the measure of temptations, but by the significance of deeds. Thus, although your present podvig is less, it cannot in the least diminish your crowns. In the same way, the one who brought two talents brought no less than the one who presented five talents. Why? For although the profit was not the same, yet the diligence was the same, wherefore both received the same honor, when they heard, "Enter into the joy of thy Lord" (Matt. XXV, 21). What about Isaac? He was not sent on a long journey, like his father, nor was he compelled to leave his land like that; However, he also endured the most important of evils – the fear of childlessness. When he put an end to this evil by prayer, another fear came upon him, greater than the first; for it does not matter whether one fears for childlessness, or for the very root of childbirth; His wife was so tormented by childbirth that for her life was more bitter than any death. About this, listen to how she herself says: "If I want to be so, why should I live" (Gen. 2:10). XXV, 22)? Isaac also experienced hunger; and although he did not go to Egypt, he also experienced what his father almost suffered there, being in danger for his wife. Moreover, his father was respected by all the neighbors, but he was persecuted as an enemy and an enemy, and did not allow him to enjoy the fruits of his own labors; having greatly constrained him, they themselves made use of his labors. When he made friends for himself and saw his children at full age, when he hoped to find great consolation in them and to have good helpers in old age, then it was he who fell into extreme despondency. First, the eldest son took a foreign wife, contrary to his father's wishes, and brought discord and quarrel into the house, and thereby greatly saddened him. The filial wives caused Isaac and Rebekah many troubles, which the Scriptures did not enumerate, but pointed them out in one word, saying that they were resisting Rebekah (Gen. 2:10). XXVI, 35), leaving it to those who have homes and children who are already married to understand what has been said. Such people know better than anyone how much evil happens when mother-in-law and daughter-in-law quarrel with each other, and especially when both live in the same house. It was a constant evil. In addition, blindness of the eyes has occurred: and how great this misfortune is, only those who suffer from it themselves know. Then there followed a misunderstanding in the blessing of his son, by which Isaac was so struck in his soul that he cried out more sorrowfully than the victim of the substitution himself, and justified himself before him and said that he had not done this injustice voluntarily, but having been deceived. And their subsequent events resembled a theatrical tragedy and represented a drama from the life of the young men of Thebes.1 And here the elder brother, in spite of his father's old age and blindness, expelled the younger from the house, and if he did not commit murder, as (the son of Oedipus), then the wisdom of his mother prevented it. Esau also threatened Jacob with murder and expected only the death of his father; but the mother, having learned of this and told the father, saved the younger one from the hands of the elder, and (the parents) had to force to flee the one who was obedient and respectful to them, and the evil one and the one who made life intolerable for them (this is said by Rebekah herself) were constantly kept with them. And so, when he departed, who had always dwelt at home (it is said of Jacob who lived in the house, Gen. 1:11). XXV, 27), and for the most part was with her mother, how long must Rebekah grieve and weep, always remembering her son and looking at her husband, who was no better than a dead man, both in old age and in sickness? With what sorrow was the elder depressed, who had to mourn his wife's misfortunes, together with his own? When Rebekah approached death, she did not see her son standing by her and weeping, closing his eyes and squeezing his mouth, dressing her and taking care of everything else – which seems to her parents more sorrowful than death itself – what did she not say, what did she not say that she was able to soften even a stone? And Isaac, seeing her dying in such a state, how could he feel in his soul both then and after her death?

11. Such was the one who seemed to us happier than many. And the life of Jacob need not be examined in detail: it is sufficiently depicted by the words of James himself. Conversing with Pharaoh, he said, "Small and evil were the days of my life; in the days of the years of my father's life (Gen. XLVII, 9), i.e. I have led a very short and very miserable life. Even without these words, his misfortunes are so well known that hardly any of the common people does not know them. His grandfather, although he made a long journey, but by the command of God, which gave him the greatest consolation; and Jacob (left his homeland), fleeing from his brother, who plotted against him and plotted murder. Abraham never lacked the necessities of life; and Jacob considered it good and happy to have only clothes and bread. When he was saved (from his brother), freed from the misfortunes of the journey and came to his relatives, he was forced to work, although he was brought up in the midst of complete abundance. You know that slavery is bitter everywhere; but when someone is forced to be a slave to his equals, and moreover has never experienced anything like this, and has spent all the previous years of his life in freedom and contentment, then this misfortune becomes intolerable. However, Jacob endured everything courageously. Listen to how he himself tells of the calamities of his pastoral life: "I have recompensed," he says, "from me the Tatbins of the day and the Tatbins of the night; And sleep departed from my eyes: behold, I am twenty years old (Gen. XXXI, 39, 40). This was endured by one who did not lead a wandering life, always remaining at home, and after such labors and deprivations, after such a long time, he was subjected to a still more deplorable deception at marriage. Even if he had not worked for seven years, if he had not endured what he had complained to his father-in-law, even if he had not loved his daughter, the very fact that he had been promised a better one, and instead of her given a worse one, how much sorrow, how much anxiety, how much grief caused this blessed one? Someone else in his place would not have endured this insult so easily, but would have destroyed the whole house of his father-in-law, would have stabbed himself with him, or would have destroyed him in some other way; but James, being forgiving and long-suffering, did not do this, and did not even plan to proceed to it; but, having received orders to work for another seven years, he willingly obeyed: so meek and modest was he. If you say that his love for the maiden contributed to the meekness of his disposition, then you will again agree with me that his sorrow is excessive. Imagine what sorrow he endured when he was deprived of such a beloved maiden, and, hoping to receive her, he was forced to wait for another seven years, in the midst of cold and heat, and vigils, and incessant privations! Having finally received it and leading a miserable and difficult life with his father-in-law, he was subjected to envy, and for the second time suffered deception in receiving the reward, of which he himself rebuked (his father-in-law), saying: "And thou hast transgressed my reward with ten lambs" (Gen. 2:11). XXXI, 41). Together with his father-in-law, the brothers of his wives also rebelled against him, even more than the father-in-law himself. But the most painful thing was that his beloved wife, for whom he had decided to work twice for seven years, gave herself up to extreme despondency, seeing that her sister was giving birth to her, and she herself had not even hope of this, and from this despondency she fell into such a frenzy that she reproached and reproached her husband, and called death upon herself, if she did not give birth: Give me children, she said, "If not, I will die" (Gen. 2:11). XXX, 1). What could rejoice him, when his beloved (wife) was so grieved, and her brothers plotted against him and tried in every way to reduce him to extreme poverty? If it is also a great sorrow when the dowry of wives is taken away without labor, then can he who is in danger of losing what he has acquired by his own labor bear such a loss meekly? Therefore, James, seeing that he was suspected and spied on, secretly left like a fugitive. What could be more deplorable than this? Thus, departing with fear and danger from both his parents' and someone else's home, in both cases he inevitably fell into the same abyss. Running away from his brother, he came to his father-in-law; and having again been persecuted by his father-in-law, he was forced to get together with his brother; And the prophetic saying which Amos said about the day of the Lord was fulfilled over him: "As if a man flees from the face of the lion, and the nan she-bear attacks, and jumps into (his) house, and leans her hands against the wall, and the serpent beheads him" (Amos. V, 19). And what shall we say of the fear to which he was subjected when he was overtaken by Laban, and of the sorrows of the journey, when so many flocks and children followed him? When he was about to see his brother's face, did he not feel what the poets say do when they look at the imaginary head of the Gorgon? Was he not completely in such a state, as if he were approaching death? Hear his words, and know what a flame was in his soul: "Redeem me," he says, "from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau: for I fear him, lest when he come, he kill me, and my mother and her children." And thou didst say, "I will do good to thee" (Gen. 2:10). XXXII, 11). What joy would this fear not have banished, even if James had spent all his former time in good humor? Meanwhile, his whole life, from the very day on which he was preparing to receive the blessing, died of fear in advance, was woven with misfortunes and dangers. Then he was seized with such fear that even after meeting his brother, who treated him kindly and humanely, he had no courage and did not cease to be anxious. When Esau urged him to go with him, hesitated, as if wishing to be freed from some beast, and asked his brother to depart from him: "My lord is the tidings," he said, "that my children are young, but the sheep and the beef are burdened and with me: if I marry one day, he will destroy all the cattle." Let my lord go before his servant; and I will be strengthened on the path by the acceleration of my procession, which is before me; and as the children are able to go, until I come to my lord in Siir (Gen. 2:10). XXXIII, 13, 14). Having calmed down a little from these dangers, he was again subjected to another fear, much greater. When his daughter was kidnapped, he first grieved over the insult to this daughter; and when the king's son relieved this grief by promising to marry Dinah, and Jacob approved of this intention, then Levi and his accomplices broke the covenant, and having destroyed all the men in the city, caused his father to be so terrified that he even migrated from there, because everyone had armed themselves against him. And Jacob said, says the Scriptures, to Simeon and Levi, "I am hateful that I have created me, for I shall be evil to all who dwell on the earth, in Canaanites and Perizzites: but I am small in number: and they that are gathered against me shall cut me off, and I and my house shall be destroyed" (Gen. 2:11). XXXIV, 30). And indeed, the neighbors would decisively destroy them all, if God's love for mankind had not curbed their fury and put an end to these disasters. The Scriptures say that the fear of God was upon (all) the cities that were round about them, and did not persecute the children of Israel (Gen. 2:10). XXXV, 5). What then after the cessation of these calamities? Did Jacob calm down? No, then the greatest of misfortunes befell him – the death of his beloved wife, premature and at the same time violent. Give birth, says the Scriptures, Rachel, and be troubled in birth. And when she gave birth to a cruel child, the woman said to her: "Be of good cheer, for this is your son." And when my soul left me, for I died, I called his name the son of my sickness (Gen. 2:10). XXXV, 16-18). And while this sorrow was still in force, Reuben increased the sorrow by disgracing his father's bed; This was so difficult for the father that even in death, when parents are especially lenient towards children, he cursed his son, who, moreover, was the firstborn among all the others, which is of no small importance for parental love. The power of sorrow overcame all these impulses, and Jacob, calling him to him, said: Reuben my firstborn, thou art my strength and the beginning of my children, cruel to endure, and cruel is the stubborn. Thou hast vexed like water, and thou shalt not boil; Thou hast ascended on thy father's bed; then didst thou defile the bed where thou didst ascend (Gen. XLIX, 3, 4). When the son of his beloved wife came of age, and Jacob hoped to have in him consolation in his sorrow for her, then in this very son various sorrows were prepared for him. The brothers, having moistened Joseph's clothes with blood, and showed them to their father, caused him much sorrow. He wept not only over the death of his son, but also over how it had happened; And there were many reasons that troubled his soul: he was the son of his beloved wife, the best of all the rest, especially loved by him, who was in the prime of his life, sent by himself, who died not in the house, nor on his bed, nor in the presence of his father, without saying or hearing anything, not by common death, but in life torn to pieces by fierce beasts, so that his father could not even gather up his remains and bury them, and he suffered this not in his youth, when he could have endured it, but in his very old age. It was a most pitiful sight – to see gray hair sprinkled with ashes, an old man's breast, naked after tearing clothes, and inconsolable weeping: Jacob, says the Scriptures, tore his garments, and put sackcloth on his loins, and wept for his son many days. And all his sons and daughters gathered together, and came to comfort him; and not wishing to be comforted, saying, "For I will come down to my son, lamenting in hell" (Gen. XXXVII, 34, 35). And as if his soul had never been free from sorrow, when this wound began to heal, he was first greatly grieved by the famine that overtook the whole earth; and then, when the sons, returning from Egypt, brought relief from this calamity, they at the same time brought another sorrow, and the joy of deliverance from hunger was darkened by separation from their son Simeon. Not only that, but they also demanded of him Benjamin, in whom alone he had consolation, both for his dead wife and for his son devoured by wild beasts. And not only this disposed him to keep Benjamin with him, but also his age and upbringing. "He will not go," said James, "my son with you; for his brother died, and he alone remained; and evil shall befall him on the way, and if ye go, and bring my old age with sorrow to hell (Gen. 2:11). XLII, 38). For all these reasons, at first he refused, and said that he would not give Benjamin; but when a great famine came and a great extreme was felt, then he, although he complained very much, saying: "Why have you done me evil, having told my husband that he is your brother" (Gen. 2:10). XLIII, 6); – although he suffered in the most grievous way, pronouncing the sorrowful words: "Joseph is to be carried, Simeon is to be carried, and will you understand Benjamin?" All this was against me (Gen. 2:10). XLII, 36); – although he wept over the fact that after Joseph and Simeon they wanted to take Benjamin away from him, and declared that he would rather endure everything than let this son go, yet at last he was defeated, and gave him up with his own hands, saying: "Understand your brother also: and when you arise, go to your husband." And may my God give you grace before your husband, and let your brother and Benjamin go: but as a childless man, a childless man (Gen. 2:10). XLIII, 13,14). Jacob was so beset by his many calamities, that though his intestines were tormented, and the number of his children diminished little by little, yet he endured all, because of the excessiveness of the (new) still greater calamities; for he was seized with even greater sorrow for Simeon and Benjamin than his sorrow for Joseph. Thus, a misfortune that has no hope of remedy, although it causes us great sorrows, is soon forgotten, plunging the soul into hopelessness; and when it still hangs over us, then it does not allow the soul to rest with the uncertainty of the future, constantly increasing and renewing in us the anguish. Everyone can learn this well from the blessed David, who wept for his son while he was still alive, and when he died, David ceased to grieve; and when the servants were perplexed and asked him the reason, he expressed the same thought as now (2 Sam. XII, 15 ff.). So naturally Jacob was more apprehensive and fearful for Simeon and Benjamin. Then the longed-for meeting and seeing Joseph brought him joy. But what good is that? As for members that are greatly burned by fire, no matter how much you cool them, nothing is of any avail; so the soul of Jacob, oppressed by sorrows and greatly scorched by the flame of sorrow, could not be revived, especially in such a summer, when the senses are no longer cheerful. And this was said by Berzellius, apologizing to David: "How many days have I lived in my life, that I may go up with the king to Jerusalem?" I am a son of eighty years of age today: do I understand food in the midst of good and in the midst of evil? Or will thy servant still understand, if I am drinking, or will I hear the voice of those who still sing and sing? And yet thy servant shall be a burden to my lord the king (2 Sam. XIX, 34, 35)? However, why explain this by the examples of others, when one can hear the same thing from the sufferer himself? After meeting with his son, Jacob, in answer to Pharaoh's question about his life, said, "The days of the years of my life have been small and evil, and my father has not reached the days of the years of life" (Gen. 2:10). XLVII, 9). So vivid was the memory of the past always in his soul!

12. And this famous and glorious son of his, Joseph, whom did he not surpass in his misfortunes? Only one brother plotted against his father, but very many against him; the latter was brought up in the midst of great contentment and tranquillity during the entire first age, while this one was forced to bear the burdens of travel in a foreign land and even in adolescence. Jacob had a mother who protected him from malice, and Joseph in his youth, when he was especially in need of his mother, was deprived of her help. Moreover, Esau grieved Jacob only with a threat, but Joseph's brothers carried out their plan, and before this plan they constantly hated him and slandered him; And what can be more painful than to have your loved ones as enemies? And when they slandered him, they also slandered him, and when they saw that his father loved him more than all his sons, they hated him, and could not speak to him peacefully (Gen. 2:10). XXXVII, 2, 4). In comparison with this, I would not call his being under the power of merchants or under the power of a eunuch so great a calamity, because these treated him much more humanely than his brothers. Even after this, however, the storm of misfortune did not become quieter, but there was a still greater agitation, which almost drowned him. Perhaps someone will think that I am now talking about the evil intent of the mistress; but before this storm I will speak of another, more cruel one. Of course, it is difficult, indeed it is difficult to be slandered in such a crime, to be condemned and to live so long in prison – a young man who is free, noble, and has not experienced such a calamity; but much more difficult than all this, I think, was the storm for him, which depended on his youthful age. If he had rejected the love of his mistress, not in the least disturbed by lust, I would not have exalted him and marveled at him, following the teaching of Christ; Christ says that it is not eunuchs by nature, but those who have made themselves eunuchs, who are worthy of the kingdom of heaven (Matt. XIX, 12); and if this had not been the case, what victory would Joseph have won? Against whom, fighting, would he receive a crown? Whom, having overcome, would he be proclaimed victorious, if no one fought against him and did not strive to overthrow him? We do not extol the chastity of those who do not copulate with the dumb, because there is no tendency in nature to such a mixture. Thus, if Blessed Joseph had not been moved by this flame, why would we have extolled his chastity? But if a shameless woman carried a young man away when the flame rose much more strongly than at other ages (he was then in his twentieth year), and when the force of this flame was irresistible, even though nothing increased it, and if the woman gave to this flame by her charms and ornaments as much power as it had by its very nature, who could depict a storm? the confusion and anguish of the young man's soul, when within he was agitated by nature and age, and from outside he was tempted by the artifices of the Egyptian woman, and moreover, not for one or two days, but for a long time? I think that at that time he was not only afraid for himself, but also grieved for this woman who was striving for such an abyss; this is evident to us from the fact that he answered her with great meekness. He could, if he had wished, speak to her both more insulting and more bold, because she, out of love, would easily endure everything; but he did not say or think anything of the sort; but, having expressed pious thoughts and only what he hoped to bring her to reason, he added nothing more. Behold, said he, my lord hath not tidings to me for my sake, in his house, and all that is in his hand. And there is nothing higher than me in this house, nothing is taken from me except you, since you are his wife; and how shall I do this evil word, and sin against God (Gen. 2:10). XXXIX, 8, 9)? And with such modesty, after such an experience of chastity, he was slandered, and God allowed it! He was bound and at the same time did not accuse the woman of malicious intent and unjust slander; even greater rewards and more splendid crowns awaited him, so even after the liberation of the royal slaves, he still remained in prison. Do not speak to me of the love of humanity of the prison guard; but consider the words of Joseph himself, and you will see the sorrow of his soul. Having interpreted the dream, he said to the cupbearer: "But remember me with you, when it is good for you; and show mercy to me; And let Pharaoh remember me, and bring me out of this stronghold: for by theft I was stolen from the land of the Jews, and here they did nothing evil, but cast me into the house of this pit (Gen. 2:10). XL, 14,15). If he easily endured the very confinement, then cohabitation with such people – gravediggers, thieves, parricides, adulterers, murderers (for in general this dwelling was filled with such and similar people) – was the most painful for him. And it was not only this that saddened and grieved him, but also the fact that he saw many languishing there innocently and in vain. Meanwhile, the slave, of which you also now complain, was freed from his bonds, and the free man continued to languish. If anyone speaks of the subsequent greatness of Joseph, he will remind me again of the many cares, sleepless nights, and innumerable occupations, which in general are not very pleasant for those who love a quiet and peaceful life. Moreover, although something pleasant happened to the above-mentioned saints, neither the kingdom of heaven nor the promise of future blessings had yet been revealed to them. And now, when there are so many blessings to come, and it is clear to all, who, tell me, will advise if he does not enjoy anything pleasant in the present life, and even consider anything of this world pleasant at all, knowing about future blessings? What would be inferior to such a soul, which, hoping to transmigrate to heaven after a short time, would seek the comforts and well-being of this world, no different from the shadow? Vanity of vanities, says Solomon, and all vanity (Eccl. I, 2). But if he who has experienced the pleasures of life more than all men has pronounced such a sentence on them, how much more should we, who have nothing in common with the earth, who are inscribed in the heavenly city, and who have been commanded to turn there with all our minds, feel and think so much.