ST. ANTHONY is considered to be the father of monks, though one, Paul of Thebais, may have been a little before him as to date. Anthony was born about A.D. 250 at Coma in Upper Egypt. When he was about twenty years of age his parents died, leaving him well provided for. But hearing the scripture read: "Sell all that thou hast and give to the poor," he resolved to carry it out. He sold his property except just enough for his own and his sister's wants. Soon after he heard another scripture: "Take no thought for the morrow," and he sold off the remainder of his estate, and, after seeing his sister taken care of, he retired into a lonely spot, and began to live in the most sparing way—eating bread only, and lying on the bare floor. But finding that Satan still tempted him to evil, he removed to a more secluded place, and took shelter in a dilapidated tomb. Here, after much suffering, he thought he had conquered Satan, and was able to live a life of exalted piety. He afterward removed to the ruins of a castle in a mountain, where he resided for a long period, spending twenty years in his various seclusions.
He became known as the pious hermit, and was solicited to allow others to share in his seclusion. He had some small cells erected, and here he allowed others to reside; but he refused to preside over them, and at times would take long journeys away from the old castle that he might be absolutely alone.
He restricted himself to six ounces of bread per day, moistened with water, and a little salt. When brought very low he would allow a little oil or a few dates; but would fast for whole days to make up for his indulgence. His dress was a sackcloth shirt and a coat of sheepskins, tied with a leathern girdle. He often spent the greater part of the night in prayer and meditation.
Many resorted to the pious hermit for advice or to ask his prayers, and the emperor Constantine wrote to him. His companions expressed their surprise at this. But he replied, "Be not surprised that the emperor writes to us—one man to another; wonder rather that God should have written to us, and that He should have spoken to us by His Son.”
St. Anthony knew enough of human nature to foresee that many might take up with a life of seclusion who had not given up the world. He feared that a day would come when such would like to live in stately buildings and fare sumptuously, while their only distinction from others would be in their dress—a prophecy too well fulfilled in later years.
When his end approached, he refused to remain among the other monks, except the two who lived near his cell. He bequeathed one of his sheepskins and his cloak to Athanasius, as a token that he approved of the doctrine of the Trinity; the other sheepskin he gave to bishop Serapion; and his sackcloth he gave to his two companions. He died at the good old age of 105 years.
Others followed a similar course, and became even more renowned. One, called SIMON STYLITE, carried his privations to such extremes that he was dismissed from a monastery as too severe. He foolishly tied a rope round his body so tightly that it ate its way into the flesh, and could only be removed after three days' exertions by a surgeon, and then left a dangerous wound. He eventually built himself a tower (hence the name Stylite) on which he lived till his death, raising it by degrees from six to thirty-six cubits high. He became exceedingly famous.
This, then, is a slight sketch of the beginning of monasticism in connection with the Christian church. As it became a powerful agency in after days, it is well to see whether it originated in the church, or was copied from anything that existed previously.
It was closely associated with asceticism, that system of becoming exercised in bearing privation, and of seeking for greater purity than could be found in the mass of mankind generally. This caused some to separate themselves from the mass of the people, and when there were several at or near the same spot they associated together and became communities. Or, as we have seen, in some places it began with one man, who became famous, around whom others gathered.
It is clear from history that there was a sort of monastic order among the Jews, who were called Essenes. Both Josephus and Philo speak of these. They sought to attain to great purity and considered there were several stages of purity, such as—1, the Essene attained to outward purity, signified by baptisms; 2, he abstained from marriage—this was an advance on the first stage; 3, he then sought inward or spiritual poverty, though it is not clear in what this consisted; 4, he sought to be meek and humble, and put away all anger and malice; 5, then he attained to holiness so-called; 6, then he became fit to be a temple of the Holy Spirit; '7, then to do cures and work miracles; 8, to attain to the portion of Elias, the forerunner of the Messiah.
These lived together in communities—had all things common—worked with their hands, tilling the ground, &c.; they were very zealous for the law, and liberal to the poor. Josephus speaks of them as existing as early as the time of Jonathan Maccabeus. (died B. C. 144.)
It is also proved that similar societies existed among the ancient Egyptians. There abode in the temples of Serapis bands of men who had left the world, given up their possessions, and who lived upon the bread their relatives brought them. Their object was to attain to greater purity of soul.
It would be interesting to discover how and why such communities sprang up in the Christian church, seeing scripture is silent on such a subject. It has been judged that monasticism did not exist during the first two centuries, though there may have been some practicing asceticism. St. Anthony was born, as we have seen, in the third century.
Christianity taught man that he was a fallen being, and if he did not grasp God's remedy for this condition, it is easy to see why he attempted to conquer the evil by his own endeavors. Men could but see that there was much evil in the world, and they sought to get away from it. But there was also evil within, and this they could not run away from, for, go where they would, they carried it with them. They, therefore, punished the body by starving it and whipping it; but this did not reach the heart, out of which proceeded the evil that defiled, as our Lord explained to His disciples. (Matt. 15:1818But those things which proceed out of the mouth come forth from the heart; and they defile the man. (Matthew 15:18).) Therefore, with all their fancied purity, they were just the same as before in themselves, though, of course, their outward conduct may have been improved. As to any remedy, "the flesh profiteth nothing.”
Those also who were Christians made a great mistake, as they might have seen in the Epistle to the Galatians. They had begun with Christ (or they could not have been Christians) and then they sought to be perfected in the flesh.
Two or three things naturally helped on monasticism. One was the persecution in the early church. This often drove the Christians, especially those known as pastors and teachers, into secluded places far distant from the usual abodes of men, where they lived in caves or put up temporary abodes; then when persecution ceased, some preferred to remain in the quiet seclusion they had before sought as a necessity.
Another thing was, that when Christianity became popular it also became more or less corrupt, with much contention for place or power in the church. This caused some pious souls to withdraw from the scenes of confusion to quiet places where they could be at peace, and carry on their studies and their devotions unhindered. But such were generally discovered, and news of the "holy man" would rapidly spread. And then, as we have seen, his quietude would be destroyed. Many would flock to him for advice, some to ask his prayers, and his judgment on disputed points. Others pressed him to let them take up their abode with him, and this ended either in his taking refuge in some more inaccessible place or in his becoming the head of a community. This indeed was the origin of many monasteries.
In some places the chief work was copying ancient manuscripts, including the Bible, and, indeed, when the dark ages set in, some of the monasteries were the places where the scriptures were preserved and where copies of them were multiplied.
Protestants sometimes shrink from the thought of any good being done in a monastery, since so much evil was found eventually to be connected with them; but it is well to see that in their origin—however mistaken the idea may have been—they were not corrupt, and they certainly did good work from time to time in the earlier stages of their existence, by thus preserving and multiplying the copies of the word of God.
But how contrary is monasticism to the example of our blessed Lord, who went about doing good 1 He prayed for His saints, not that they should be taken out of the world—indeed, He sent them into the world (John 17:1818As thou hast sent me into the world, even so have I also sent them into the world. (John 17:18))—but that they should be kept from the evil. Oh! for grace, while passing along in the world, to keep our garments unspotted from its many and varied corruptions!