Valens. He is not named in the
Roman Martyrology, nor venerated by the church among the saints. He had
been long engaged in the errors and intrigues of the Semi-Arians; but
the encomiums given him by St. Gregory Nazianzen, Theodoret, and
Sozomen, when they relate his sufferings, show that towards the end of
the reign of Constantius, he joined in the orthodox communion.

{677}

MARCH XXX.

ST. JOHN CLIMACUS, ABBOT.

From his life written by Daniel, a monk of Raithu, soon after his death,
and from his own works. See Bulteau, Hist Monast. d'Orient, and
d'Andilly, or rather his nephew, Le Maitre, in his life prefixed to the
French translation of his works. See also Jos. Assemani, in Cal. Univ.
ad 30 Martii, t. 6, p. 213.

A.D. 605.

ST. JOHN, generally distinguished by the appellation of Climacus, from
his excellent book entitled Climax, or the Ladder to Perfection, was
born about the year 525, probably in Palestine. By his extraordinary
progress in the arts and sciences, he obtained very young the surname of
the Scholastic. But at sixteen years of age he renounced all the
advantages which the world promised him, to dedicate himself to God in a
religious state, in 547. He retired to Mount Sinai, which, from the time
of the disciples of St. Antony and St. Hilarion, had been always peopled
by holy men, who, in imitation of Moses, when he received the law on
that mountain, lived in the perpetual contemplation of heavenly things.
Our novice, fearing the danger of dissipation and relaxation, to which
numerous communities are generally more exposed than others, chose not
to live in the great monastery on the summit, but in a hermitage on the
descent of the mountain, under the discipline of Martyrius, a holy
ancient anchoret. By silence, he curbed the insolent itch of talking
about every thing, an ordinary vice in learned men, but usually a mark
of pride and self-sufficiency. By perfect humility and obedience, he
banished the dangerous desire of self-complacency in his actions. He
never contradicted, never disputed with any one. So perfect was his
submission, that he seemed to have no self-will. He undertook to sail
through the deep sea of this mortal life securely, under the direction
of a prudent guide, and shunned those rocks which he could not have
escaped, had he presumed to steer alone, as he tells us.[1] From the
visible mountain he raised his heart, without interruption, in all his
actions, to God, who is invisi