up in the country in tending cattle. In his childhood, in
company with some others, he once stole a few figs, and ate one of them:
but from his conversion to his death, he never ceased to weep bitterly
for this sin.[1] By a powerful call of divine grace, he retired from the
world in his youth, and dwelling in a little cell in a village, made
mats, in continual prayer and great austerities. A wicked woman falsely
accused him of having defloured her; for which supposed crime he was
dragged through the streets, beaten, and insulted, as a base hypocrite,
under the garb of a monk. He suffered all with patience, and sent the
woman what he earned by his work, saying to himself: "Well, Macarius!
having now another to provide for, thou must work the harder." But God
discovered his innocency; for the woman falling in labor, lay in extreme
anguish, and could not be delivered till she had named the true father
of her child. The people converted their rage into the greatest
admiration of the humility and patience of the saint.[2] To shun the
esteem of men, he fled into the vast hideous desert of Scete,[3] being
then about thirty years of age. In this solitude he lived sixty years,
and became the spiritual parent of innumerable holy persons, who put
themselves under his direction, and were governed by the rules he
prescribed them; but all dwelt in separate hermitages. St. Macarius
admitted only one disciple with him, to entertain strangers. He was
{160} compelled by an Egyptian bishop to receive the order of
priesthood, about the year 340, the fortieth of his age, that he might
celebrate the divine mysteries for the convenience of this holy colony.
When the desert became better peopled, there were four churches built in
it, which were served by so many priests. The austerities of St.
Macarius were excessive; he usually ate but once a week. Evagrius, his
disciple, once asked him leave to drink a little water, under a parching
thirst; but Macarius bade him content himself with reposing a little in
the shade, saying: "For these twenty years, I have never once ate,
drunk, or slept, as much as nature required."[4] His face was very pale,
and his body weak and parched up. To deny his own will, he did not
refuse to drink a little wine when others desired him; but then he would
punish himself for this indulgence, by abstaining two or three days from
all manner of drink; and it was for this reason, that his disciple
desired strangers never to t