Chapter 16

Josaphat said to the old man: Are there, then, others also now who proclaim these things as you do? Or are you alone today in teaching these things and describing the present life as so hateful?

He answered and said: In this most unhappy country of yours I know of no one. For your father's tyranny surrounded such men with countless deaths, and made it his work that the proclamation of the knowledge of God should not be heard among you at all. But in all the other tongues these things are sung and glorified—by some with the most upright doctrine, by others perversely, since the enemy of our souls has made them turn aside from the straight way and has parceled them out among alien doctrines, and has taught them to interpret certain sayings of the Scriptures otherwise and not according to the sense that lies within them. But the truth is one, that proclaimed through the glorious apostles and the God-bearing fathers, and shining out in the catholic Church from the ends to the ends of the world brighter than the sun—of which I have been sent to you as herald and teacher. Josaphat said to him: Has my father, then, learned nothing of these things? The old man said: Plainly and properly he has learned nothing; for, stopping up his senses, he willingly does not receive the good, having of his own choice inclined toward evil. But I would wish, said Josaphat, that he too were initiated into these things. The old man said: The things that are impossible with men are all possible with God. For what do you know but that you will save your father, and in a wonderful manner become the begetter of your own begetter?

For I have heard that there was a certain king who governed his kingdom very well, and treated the people under him gently and mildly, failing in this one thing only: that he was not rich in the illumination of the knowledge of God, but was held fast in the error of idols. He had a certain good counselor, adorned in every way both with piety toward God and with all the rest of virtuous wisdom; who, grieved and distressed at the king's error and wishing to reprove him concerning it, was held back from the impulse, fearing lest he become the cause of evils both to himself and to his companions, and cut off the benefit that came to many through him. Yet he sought a fitting occasion to draw the king toward the good. So one night the king said to him: Come now, let us go out and walk about the city, in case we may see something profitable. And as they walked about the city, they saw a gleam of light shining from a certain crevice; and casting their eyes on it, they see an underground, cave-like dwelling, in which there sat a man living in the utmost poverty and clothed in cheap rags. His wife stood by, mixing wine. And as the man took the cup in his hands, she sang a clear-toned tune and made him merry, dancing and charming her husband with praises. Those about the king, then, observing this for a good while, marveled that, pressed by such poverty as to have neither a house nor clothing, they passed their life so cheerfully;

and the king said to his chief counselor: How strange, my friend, that to you and me our life never pleased us even thus, shining as it does with such glory and luxury, as this cheap and wretched living delights these foolish people, and as this harsh and detestable life appears to them smooth and agreeable! Seizing the opportune moment, the chief counselor said: But to you, O king, how does their life appear? Of all that I have ever seen, said the king, the most distasteful and unhappy, abominable and to be shunned. Then the chief counselor said to him: Know well, then, O king, that our life is reckoned far more grievous by those who have seen and been initiated into that everlasting glory and the good things that surpass all understanding; and these houses gleaming with gold, and these splendid garments, and all the rest of the luxury of this life, are more distasteful than dung and squalor to the eyes of those who know the inexpressible beauties of the dwellings in heaven not made with hands, the God-woven robe and the incorruptible diadems which God, the Creator and Lord of all, has prepared for those who love him.

For in the same way that these were reckoned by us to be foolish, much more we, who wander about the world and please ourselves in this lying glory and senseless luxury, are worthy of laments and tears in the eyes of those who have tasted the sweetness of those good things. The king, hearing this and becoming as it were dumbstruck, said: Who, then, are those who have a life better than ours? All, said the chief counselor, who have preferred the eternal things to the temporal. Again the king sought to learn what the eternal things were, and the man said: A kingdom without succession, and a life not subject to death, and wealth that never fears poverty, and joy and gladness with no share of grief or vexation, and perpetual peace free of all enmity and contention. Those counted worthy to enjoy these are blessed, and that many times over; for they will live a life without grief and without toil forever, enjoying without labor all the pleasant and delightful things of the kingdom of God, and reigning together with Christ without end. And when the king said, Who is worthy to attain these things? he answered: All who have laid hold of the road that leads there; for the entrance is unhindered to those who only wish it. And the king said: And what is the path that leads there?

To him that man, bright of soul, said: To know the only true God, and Jesus Christ his only-begotten Son, and the Holy and life-giving Spirit. The king, then, having understanding worthy of the purple, said to him: And what has hindered you until now from making this known to me? For these things do not seem to me worthy of delay and postponement, if indeed they are true; and if they are doubtful, one must search laboriously until I find what is beyond dispute. It was not, said the man, out of negligence or slackness that I hesitated to make these things known to you, true as they are and altogether beyond dispute, but out of reverence for the surpassing greatness of your glory, lest I should seem too troublesome to you. If, then, you bid your servant remind you henceforth concerning these things, I will be obedient to your command. Yes, said the king, not only each day, but each hour renew the memory of these things continually; for one must attend to them not carelessly, but very warmly and earnestly. We have heard, then, says Barlaam, that this king lived piously thereafter, and, having passed the present life without storm, did not fail of the blessedness to come. If, then, someone reminds your father of such things at a fitting time,

perhaps he too will understand and recognize in what evils he is held fast, and, turning aside from them, will choose the good; since for the present he is blind, dim-sighted, having deprived himself of the true light and deserted to the darkness of impiety. Josaphat said to him: As for my father's affairs, may the Lord lead them as he wills; for to him, as you have said, all things are possible that are impossible with men. But I, through your matchless words, having condemned the emptiness of present things, have resolved to withdraw from them entirely, and to pass the rest of my life with you, that I may not, through these temporal and fleeting things, fall away from the enjoyment of the eternal and incorruptible. To him the old man answered: If you do this, you will be like a certain most prudent young man, of whom I have heard that he was of rich and renowned parents. His father betrothed to him the daughter of one distinguished by nobility and wealth, a most beautiful girl, and, having talked with the boy about the marriage and told him what he was planning, the boy, when he heard it, shook off the matter as something jarring and out of place, and went away a fugitive, leaving his father. As he traveled he was given lodging in the house of a certain poor old man, resting himself there from the day's scorching heat.

The poor man's daughter, who was his only child and a virgin, sitting before the doors, worked with her hands, but with her mouth blessed God without ceasing, giving thanks to him from the depths of her soul. The young man, hearing her hymns, said: What, woman, is your occupation? And for what reason, being so cheap and poor, do you give thanks as for some great gifts, hymning the giver? She answered him: Do you not know that, just as a small medicine often delivers a man from great diseases, so too giving thanks to God for small things becomes the procurer of great ones? I, then, being the daughter of a poor old man, give thanks for these small things and bless God, knowing that he who gave these is able to give greater ones as well. And these things are about the external things that are not our own,

from which neither does any gain come to those who possess much—not to say that there is often even loss—nor does harm come to those who have received less, since both travel the same road and press toward the same end; but in the most necessary and crucial things I have enjoyed many and very great gifts of my Master, gifts that have no number nor are subject to estimation. For I have been made in the image of God, and counted worthy of the knowledge of him, and adorned with reason above all living things, and called back from death to life through the tender mercies of our God, and have received authority to share in his mysteries, and the door of paradise has been opened, offering me unhindered entrance, if only I wish it. Of so many and such great gifts, then, in which rich and poor share alike, it is altogether impossible for me to give worthy thanks;

and if I do not offer even this small hymn to the giver, what defense shall I have? The young man, marveling exceedingly at her great understanding, called her father and said: Give me your daughter; for I have come to love her understanding and piety. The old man said: It is not lawful for you to take this poor man's daughter, you being of rich parents. Again the young man said: Yes, I will take her, if you do not forbid it; for the daughter of noble and wealthy parents was betrothed to me, and shaking her off, I took to flight; but, loving your daughter for her piety toward God and her sensible understanding, I have set my heart on being joined to her. The old man said to him: I cannot give her to you, to lead her away to your father's house and separate her from my arms; for she is my only child. But I, said the young man, will stay with you, and take up your way of life. Then, laying aside his splendid clothing, he asked for the old man's and put it on. The old man tested him much, and in various ways proved his mind; and when he knew that he was of steady purpose, and that it was not held captive by a love of folly that he asked for his daughter, but that out of love of piety he chose to live in poverty, preferring this to his own glory and noble birth, he took him by the hand and led him into his storeroom, and showed him much wealth laid up for him and an uncountable mass of money, such as the young man had never beheld;

and he said to him: My child, all this I give you, in return for your having chosen to become my daughter's husband and the heir of my substance. And taking possession of that inheritance, the young man surpassed all the renowned and rich of the earth.