saying that such work would be worldly and was not for him. The same Arsenius inherited a great fortune, his cousin's estate, but refused it.
"When did my cousin die?"
"Two months ago," he was told.
"Oh, then the estate is not mine, for I died long before that," said Arsenius.
He had died to the world, and to money among other worldly things.
The hermits also denied the physical senses—our ordinary sight, hearing, touching. . . . "Grieve not that thou art without what even flies and gnats possess," said Antony, the father of Egyptian hermits, to blind Didymus; "rejoice that through thy physical blindness thy spiritual sight has become more clear." The hermits took upon themselves oaths of silence, went into remote places where was the most abject barrenness of earth, the utter negation of all physical life and material power. Not content with the privations of the Sahara they went into abominable marshes like the soda swamps of Nitria, where they mortified even the most innocent of the senses, the sense of smell. They strove to be as it were dead in all the physical body and limbs, and in the physical senses. "Unless a man imagines to himself that he has been lying for three years in the grave and under the earth, he will never die to himself," said Moses the Ethiopian, a simple negro anchorite, who though he seemed black in the body was all white in the soul.
