Kitobni o'qish: «The Lives of the Saints, Volume II (of 16): February», sahifa 17

And after some time, when she was aged eighteen, Paphnutius, taking her, went to the monastery with her, and gave monies for the need of the brethren, and said to the abbot, "I have brought to thee the fruit of thy prayers, that thou mayest pray for her, for I am about to deliver her in marriage."

Then the abbot bade that she should be taken to the guest-house, and he spake with her, and said much about purity, humility, and meekness. Now she was there three days, and she gave ear to the psalmody every day, and saw the holy conversation of the monks, and she wondered at their life, and said, "Blessed indeed are these men." So her heart began to be solicitous in the fear of the Lord.

And when three days were accomplished, Paphnutius led her to the abbot and said, "Come, my father, that thy handmaiden may salute thee, and pray for her, for we are going home to town." And the maiden cast herself at the abbot's feet, saying, "I pray thee, my Father, entreat the Lord to give me my heart's desire," so he, extending his hand over her, blessed her, saying, "God, who knewest man before ever he was born, take care of this thy handmaiden, that she may merit a portion and fellowship in thy heavenly kingdom." So they returned to the city. Now, it fell out, one day, that the abbot was about to be ordained, and he sent a monk to Paphnutius, to invite him to the solemnity. Then the brother asked after him, and the servants said, "He has gone out." Then Euphrosyne called to her the monk, and began to question him. "Tell me of your charity, my brother, how many brethren are there in the monastery?" He answered, "There are three hundred and fifty-two." The maiden said, "If anyone desired to go there for conversion, would your abbot receive him?" He answered, "He would receive him with the greatest joy, for the Lord said, 'He that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.'" Euphrosyne said, "Do all of you chant in your church, and all fast together alike?" The monk answered, "We all chant together, but every one fasts following his own way, as much and how suits him best; there is no constraint, but ready will." Presently Paphnutius returned from his walk, and the monk, seeing him, told him the message of the abbot. Then Paphnutius was glad, and went with him in a little boat to the monastery. Now, when he was gone, Euphrosyne sent a trusty servant, saying, "Go into the monastery of Theodosius, enter the church, and bring hither any monk you find there." Now, by the goodness of God, there was a monk just coming from the monastery, and when the boy saw him, he bade him come to the house of Euphrosyne. And when the maiden saw him, she rose and saluted him, saying, "Pray for me, my Father!" So, praying, he blessed her, and sat down. Then Euphrosyne said to him, "My lord, I have a Christian father, but my mother is dead. My father wishes to give me to this world, and I shrink from being defiled thereby, but I fear to be disobedient to my father, so I am in a strait and know not what to do. I spent all last night without sleep, asking God to show me His way, and this morning I have sent into the church for a father, who might tell me what I should do. I know that God hath sent thee to me; declare to me, now, His will." Then the old man said, "This is the Word of the Lord. If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple. (Luke xiv., 26.) This is the saying of the Lord Christ. I have nothing to add thereto." Then said Euphrosyne, "I trust in God and in thy prayers. Cut off my hair." So the old man arose, and shore off the hair of her head, and laid on her the tunic of profession, and praying, he blessed her, saying, "The God, who hath delivered all His saints, protect thee from all evil." And when he had thus spoken, he departed, and went on his way rejoicing.

But Euphrosyne thought in herself, "If I go to a convent of maidens my father will make inquiries and drag me violently away, and give me to the bridegroom. I will go to a monastery of men, where none will suspect me." So saying, she put off her female attire, and clothed herself in the habit of a man, and, leaving her house in the dusk of evening, taking with her 500 pennies, concealed herself all night. Next morning her father came to the city, and went, by the will of God, to church, before going home. Now, Euphrosyne made her way to that monastery where her father was so well known, and announced to the abbot, through the porter, that an eunuch of the palace was without desiring to speak with him. Then, when the abbot came forth, Euphrosyne cast herself on the ground, and when they had prayed they sat down. Then said the old man, "Wherefore hast thou come hither, my son?" And she answered, "I desire to dwell here and follow your holy conversation." Then said the old man, "Thou hast done well, my son! Here is the monastery. If it please thee, dwell with us. But tell me, what is thy name?" She answered, "Smaragdus (Emerald)." He said, "Thou art very young, and not able to dwell alone, but needest a master to teach thee the rule and conversation of the monks." To whom she made answer, "As thou willest, my father." So she put the five hundred pence in his hand, and he called to him an aged brother, named Agapitus, a holy man, and gave to him Smaragdus, saying, "Henceforth he shall be to thee a son and disciple." Then, having knelt, he blessed them, and they responded Amen, and Agapitus led her away to his cell.

Now Paphnutius, her father, went home, and when he found her not he sought through Alexandria. He searched every convent of women. Now, there were ships in the harbour, and his servants by force entered them, and searched them through, and they hunted the country round, the deserts and the caves, not to mention the houses of their friends, and they found her not. Then he bewailed her as one dead, together with the bridegroom and his father; but Paphnutius could not be comforted, he had no rest, not knowing where his daughter was. And at last, unable to bear his anguish longer, he hastened to the abbot of whom we have already spoken, and fell at his feet, and cried, "I pray thee, cease not from supplication that the child of thy prayer may be found, for I know not what has befallen my daughter." Hearing this, the venerable old man was mightily troubled, and he summoned all the brethren, and said, "Show your charity, my brothers, and let us all entreat the Lord, that he may declare to us what has befallen the daughter of our good friend, Paphnutius." So they all fasted and prayed for the space of a week, and nothing was revealed touching Euphrosyne, as was wont, when they at other times besought the Lord. Now when nothing was revealed to any, the abbot began to console the father, saying, "Do not be downcast, my son, at the Lord's discipline, for whom He loveth He chasteneth. Know this, of a surety, that no sparrow falls to the ground, without His knowledge, how then can anything have happened to thy daughter without His consent? If any evil had befallen her – which God forbid! – would not the Lord have showed it to one of the brethren praying for her? I have confidence in God, that thou shalt see thy daughter again in this life." So the father went away comforted. But he often returned to commend himself to the prayers of the brethren, and one day he cast himself down before the abbot and said, "I cannot bear my anguish, O my father! because of my lost daughter, but the wound in my heart bleeds more every day, and my spirit is vexed within me." Now when the old man saw him so broken, he said, "Wouldst thou converse with a spiritual brother here, from the palace of Theodosius?" But he knew not that he spake of the daughter of Paphnutius; and the man said "I am willing." Then the abbot called Agapitus, and said, "Take Paphnutius, and introduce him to the cell of Smaragdus." And he did so, knowing nothing. Now, when she suddenly heard her father's voice, and knew him, her eyes filled with tears. But Paphnutius did not recognize her, for her face was much shrunk with fasting, vigils, and tears; and she drew her hood over her face, that he might not see her distinctly. And when they had prayed, they sat down. Then she began to speak to him of the future kingdom of happiness and eternal glory, and how it was to be won through humility and purity, and a holy life, and tender love. For she saw that her father was much depressed, and she pitied him; yet fearing lest he should recognize her, and it would prove a hindrance in her path, and willing to comfort him, she said, "Believe me, God will not despise thy groaning. If thy child were living in wickedness, God would shew thee the way to her, that thou mightest pluck her away. No! trust God, she has chosen the better course, and is serving God somewhere. He is able to lead thee to her. Be of good courage, He will reveal her to thee some day." Then she said "Go, sir!" And as he retired, she grew deadly pale, and tears flowed from her eyes. But he was full of comfort, and he said to the abbot, "I go comforted as though to-day I had seen my child." And he returned home magnifying the Lord.

Now after Smaragdus had lived thirty-eight years in the cell, she fell sick, and knew that she must die. And when, on a certain day, as was his frequent custom, Paphnutius came to the monastery, and asked to see Smaragdus, the abbot bade that he should be conducted to the cell. But when he found that Smaragdus lay sick, he kissed him, and weeping, said "Woe is me! where are all the promises, and sweet hopes, that thou didst give me, of seeing my daughter again? Not only do I not see her, but thou in whom I have found some consolation, thou goest away, and there is none left to be the comfort of my old age. For thirty and eight years I have lost my daughter, and nothing has been revealed to me concerning her, though I have prayed for her night and day." And when Smaragdus saw the old man's distress and tears, he said, "Be of good courage, is the hand of the Lord shortened, that He cannot perform what is promised? Lay aside thy sorrow. Remember how Joseph was revealed by God to the patriarch Jacob, who bewailed him as one dead. But I pray thee, tarry here three days, and leave me not." So Paphnutius remained beside him three days, for he said, "May be, the Lord will reveal somewhat to him;" and he was all that while full of anxiety. And on the third day he said, "I have waited, my brother!" Then Smaragdus knew that he should not survive that day, and he said to Paphnutius, "Draw near to me." And he drew near. Then said Smaragdus, who is also Euphrosyne, "Because the Almighty Lord hath brought me to the end of my contest, not by might of mine, but by His help, there remaineth to me the crown. And now I would not have thee troubled about thy daughter – I am thy daughter, Euphrosyne, and thou art my father, Paphnutius. And now I pray thee, (for none know that I am a woman), when I am dead, do thou, my father, wash and lay me out for my grave, and pray for me." And when she had said this, she gave up her soul. And it was the first of January.

Then when Paphnutius heard these words, and saw that she was fallen asleep, all his bowels were moved, and he fell on the ground, and was as one dead. Now Agapitus came running in, and saw Smaragdus dead, and Paphnutius lying senseless on the ground, so he cast water on his face and said, "What aileth thee, Master Paphnutius?" Then said Paphnutius, "Let me go that I may die." And when he was risen up, he cast himself on the face of the dead monk, and cried, "Woe is me! my sweetest daughter, why didst thou not tell me before, that I might have died with thee?" So Agapitus, having guessed the truth, was amazed, and hasted and told the abbot, who came, and cried "Euphrosyne, spouse of Christ, forget not thy fellow-servants, who dwell in this monastery, but pray for us to our Lord Jesus Christ, that he may make us manfully contend to reach the port of safety, and to have our portion with Him, and with all His saints." Then he called all the brethren together, and they buried Euphrosyne reverently. And after that her father came and dwelt in the same cell, and was there for ten years, and after that he migrated to God, and they laid him beside his daughter.

S. CEADMON, MONK

(ABOUT A.D. 680.)

[Anglican Martyrology, published by John Wilson. Authority: – Bede: Hist. Eccl. iv. 24.]

According to an usage very general in the 7th century in England, but principally prevailing in Celtic countries, monasteries and nunneries were placed under the rule of one abbot or abbess. This was the case at Whitby, where the abbess Hilda governed a community of men, as well as one of women; and she inspired the monks subject to her authority with so great a devotion to their rule, so true a love of sacred literature, that this monastery, ruled by a woman, became a true school of missionaries, and even of bishops. But not all the bishops and saints nurtured in her school, occupy in the annals of the human mind a place comparable to that held by an old cowherd who lived on the lands belonging to Hilda's community. It is on the lips of this cowherd that Anglo-Saxon speech first bursts into poetry, and nothing in the whole history of European literature is more original or more religious than this first utterance of the English muse. His name was Ceadmon. He had already reached an advanced age, having spent his life in his humble occupation without ever learning music, or being able to join in the joyous choruses which held such a high place at the feasts and social gatherings of all classes, both poor and rich, among the Anglo-Saxons as among the Celts. When it was his turn to sing at any of these festal meetings, and the harp was handed to him, his custom was to rise from the table and go home. One evening, when he had thus withdrawn himself from his friends, he went back to his humble shed and went to sleep by the side of the cattle. During his slumber he heard a voice, which called him by name, and said to him, "Sing me something"; to which he replied, "I cannot sing, and that is why I have left the supper and am come hither." "Sing, notwithstanding," said the voice. "But what, then, shall I sing?" "Sing the beginning of the world: the Creation." Immediately on receiving this command he began to sing verses, of which before he had no knowledge, but which celebrated the glory and power of the Creator. On awaking he recollected all that he had sung in his dream, and hastened to tell all that had happened to him to the farmer in whose service he was.

The Abbess Hilda, when the story was repeated to her, called for Ceadmon and questioned him in the presence of all the learned men whom she could assemble around her. He was made to relate his vision and recite his songs, and then the different passages of sacred history and various points of doctrine were explained to him that he might put them into verse. The next morning he was again called, and immediately began to repeat all that had been told him, in verses, which were pronounced to be excellent. He was thus discovered all at once to possess the gift of improvisation in his mother tongue. Hilda, and her learned assessors, did not hesitate to recognise in this a special gift of God, worthy of all respect and of the most tender care. She received Ceadmon and his whole family within the monastic community of Whitby, and afterwards admitted him to the number of monks who were under her rule, and made him carefully translate the whole Bible into Anglo-Saxon. As soon, accordingly, as the sacred history and the gospel were narrated to him, he made himself master of the tale, ruminated it, as Bede said, and transformed it into songs, so beautiful that all who listened to him were delighted. He thus put into verse the whole of Genesis and Exodus, with other portions of the Old Testament, and, afterwards the life and passion of Our Lord, and the Acts of the Apostles. His talent and his poetic faculty thus went on, day by day, to fuller development, and he devoted numerous songs to such subjects as were best calculated to induce his companions to forsake evil, and love and practise the good: the terrors of the last judgment, the pains of hell, the joys of paradise – all these great and momentous subjects were in their turn woven into verse. The fragments that remain enable us to estimate the earnest and impassioned inspirations, strongly Christian and profoundly original, which characterised these first efforts of genius, barbarous, but subdued and baptized. But it would be a totally mistaken idea to recognise in the Abbess Hilda's dependant, nothing but a poet or a literary pioneer; he was, above all, a primitive Christian, a true monk, and, in one word, a saint. His mind was simple and humble, mild and pure; he served God with tranquil devotion, grateful for the extraordinary grace that he had received from heaven. But he was full of zeal for monastic regularity. No frivolous or worldly subjects ever inspired his verse; he composed his songs only that they might be useful to the soul, and their solemn beauty did even more for the conversion than for the delight of his countrymen. Many were moved by them to despise this world, and to turn with ardent love to the divine life. He died as poets seldom die. At the very beginning of his illness he desired his bed to be made in that part of the infirmary which was assigned to the dying, and, while smiling and talking cheerfully with his brethren, asked for the viaticum. At the moment when he was about to administer the Communion to himself, from the pyx brought from the Church, according to the usage of the period, and while holding in his hands the Holy Eucharist, he asked all those around him, if any one had any grudge against him, or any complaint to make? All answered, "No." Then said he, "I, too, my children, have a mind at peace with all God's servants." A little while after he had received the venerable Sacrament, as they were about to waken the monks for Matins, he made the sign of the Cross, laid his head on the pillow, and fell asleep in silence, to awake no more.

S. THEODORA, EMPRESS

(A.D. 867.)

[Commemorated by the Greeks; not regarded as a Saint by the Western Church.]

Theodora, wife of Theophilus, the Byzantine Emperor, has the glory of having brought to an end the triumph of the Iconoclasts in the East. After the death of her savage husband she ruled during the minority of her son, Michael III. Her claim to sanctity is certainly very questionable.

February 12

S. Eulalia, V. M. at Barcelona, a. d. 303.

S. Meletius the Great, Patr. of Antioch, a. d. 381.

S. Rioch, Monk in Brittany, 5th cent.

S. Ethelwold, B. of Lindisfarne, a. d. 740.

S. Benedict of Aniane, Ab., a. d. 821.

S. Antony Cauleas, Patr. of Constantinople, a. d. 896.

S. Benedict, B. of Albenga, in N. Italy, a. d. 900.

S. Goslin, Ab. of Turin, a. d. 1061.

S. Ludan, C. near Strasbourg, a. d. 1202.

S. EULALIA, V. M

(A.D. 303.)

[There are two saints of this name very celebrated in Spain, whereof one is of Merida, the other, the subject of this notice, of Barcelona. The former is commemorated on the 10th of December; the latter on Feb. 12th. The former is said to have been aged twelve or thirteen, the latter aged fourteen. There is also a striking similarity in their acts and their legends; and it seems that writers have often confounded the one with the other, that is, supposing there were two saints, virgins and martyrs of this name. But it seems not improbable, that the Eulalia of Barcelona and her namesake of Merida are the same. Such a mistake as the making one saint into two might easily arise, if a portion of the relics of Eulalia of Barcelona had been transferred to Merida. Martyrologists as generally name a saint as "of such a place" by the place where his or her relics are, as by the scene of the martyrdom. The Roman Martyrology says, on Feb. 12th, "At Barcelona, in Spain, S. Eulalia, V., who endured the little-horse, hooks, and flames, in the reign of Diocletian, the Emperor, and was finally fastened to a cross,³⁶ and received the crown of Martyrdom." Usuardus says much the same. The Martyrologies of Bede, Ado, and Notker enter into fuller details. The feast of S. Eulalia is observed with an octave according to ancient custom, sanctioned by a decree of the Congregation of Rites, Dec. 6th, 1608, at Barcelona, even when it falls in Lent. It is difficult to fix the date of the Acts, but it is certain that we have not got them in their original form, though there is no reason for doubting their substantial authority.]

EULALIA, the daughter of Christian parents, lived on a farm outside the gates of Barcelona. Now, when she heard that persecution had broken out, she cried, "Thanks do I render to Thee, Lord Jesu Christ, and glory to Thy holy Name, for now I behold that which I have desired, and I believe that with Thy help all my desire shall find accomplishment." Then the young girl at night escaped from her home, and, entering the city in the morning, presented herself before the magistrate, and defied him and his gods. The magistrate ordered her to be whipped, thinking that the lashes on her tender skin would subdue her constancy. But he was mistaken. She accepted the sufferings with joy, and was then stretched on the little-horse and her sides torn with iron hooks and burnt with torches. And in her agony she looked up to heaven and cried, "Lord Jesu Christ, hear my prayer, and perfect Thy work in me, and bid me be numbered among Thine elect in the rest of life eternal." And when she had so prayed, her soul sped from her, and entered into the Paradise of God, as a dove flies to its nest. Then the executioners cast her off from the rack upon the blood-stained soil; but the magistrate ordered, "Let the body hang to be devoured by the birds of the air." Then a light snow began to fall out of heaven and softly cover the virgin's naked and mangled body with a pure white pall. Then the executioners, astonished, withdrew, and on the third day the Christians were allowed to bear away the sacred relics.

Patroness of Barcelona and of sailors. Her relics are preserved at Barcelona, in the Cathedral. She is represented in art, with her soul, as a dove, issuing from her mouth, or lying covered with snow before a rack. It seems to be an error to regard her as having been crucified. In the Acts the command of the magistrate is, "Let her hang on the cross"; but this refers to the rack on which she was stretched. She is, however, sometimes represented with a cross.

S. MELETIUS, PATR. OF ANTIOCH

(A.D. 381.)

[Commemorated by Greeks and Romans on the same day. But Maurolycus, by mistake, inserts him along with S. Meletius, B. of Pontus, on Dec. 4th. Authorities: – Sozomen, Socrates, Theodoret, and the oration of S. John Chrysostom in his honour.]

The history of this noble Confessor is a sad one, for it opens up to us a picture of the dissensions which tore the Church in the 4th century. It will be remembered that the Church was at that period suffering from the prevalence of Arianism, which denied the Eternal Godhead of the Son. Favoured by the Court, Arianism had penetrated into the Church on all sides; many of the bishops were Arian, others were semi-Arian, unwilling to pronounce decidedly against the Godhead of Christ, and unwilling also to declare that great doctrine to be the Truth. The election of the bishops being in the hands of the people, if among the laity and clergy low views of Christ's nature prevailed, an Arian was chosen to be their bishop. It was none the better when the emperors interfered to nominate, for they would expel an orthodox prelate and substitute for him one who was an Arian. And it must be remembered that Arians were at that time mixed up with Catholics, as parties in the Church, and did not at first stand to one another in the position of separate and antagonistic communions. By the predominance of the votes of Arians, Meletius was elected and consecrated bishop of Berœa, and was afterwards by the same influence translated to the See of Sebaste.³⁷ He was present at the council of Seleucia (359), where he sided with the shifty semi-Arian Acacius of Cæsarea. But his eyes seem to have opened to the truth, and that gentle and peace-loving disposition which made him at first willing to soften differences was braced up by the imminence of the danger to true religion, to take a bold step. A council, assembled at Antioch in 361, placed Meletius in the see. This excellent man had a persuasive eloquence and a disposition which endeared him both to Catholics and Arians. A rumour began to spread that he was positively Catholic. After some sermons of a general character, he was desired to take part in a series of expositions of the great controverted text, Prov. viii. 22. After George, bishop of Laodicea, had given a strongly Arian address, and Acacius, bishop of Cæsarea, had read a paper which seemed to aim at a safe ambiguity, Meletius rose, and asserted, in unequivocal language, the essential doctrine of Nicæa. The church rang with cries of applause and wrath, proceeding from Catholics and Arians. The Arian archdeacon stopped the new patriarch's mouth with his hand. Meletius held out three fingers, then one; and when his lips were freed by the archdeacon's seizing his hands, he repeated aloud his former words, and exhorted the people to cling to the Nicene faith. This could not be borne; the council, at another session, deposed Meletius; the Emperor Constantius drove him into exile; Euzoius, an old comrade of Arius, was made bishop of Antioch; and a new creed was published which affirmed that the Son was in nowise like to the Father, and was made out of what once was not. This led to a separation between the Catholics and the Arians. The latter were put in possession of all the churches, by imperial authority. Unfortunately, the Catholics were divided. Many held with the orthodox banished patriarch, Meletius, but some of the more obstinate refused to acknowledge him, and to communicate with those who did, because he had been ordained through Arian influence at Sebaste. On the accession of the Emperor Julian the Apostate, Lucifer, bishop of Cagliari, and Eusebius of Vercelli resolved to do what was possible to allay the miserable schisms which devastated the East and Egypt. Accordingly a council was summoned at Alexandria, to which Eusebius betook himself, but Lucifer, sending a representative to the council, hasted to Antioch, where, with that unfortunate precipitancy which characterised all his actions, he ordained one Paulinus to the Patriarchate, a man belonging to the extreme orthodox side, without waiting the return of Meletius, who had been recalled from banishment. As soon as the council of Alexandria had reinstated S. Athanasius, Eusebius of Vercelli arrived at Antioch, and found that the visit of Lucifer of Cagliari had made matters worse instead of healing divisions. There were now three Patriarchs of Antioch: one, Euzoius, the Arian, in possession of all the churches except one, which, out of personal friendship for Paulinus he had ceded to him; another, Meletius, the banished and now recalled patriarch, against whose orthodoxy no breath of doubt was raised; and Paulinus, acknowledged by the Roman pontiff, at the head of a small party who rejected Meletius, because he had once been mixed up with Arians. Eusebius regretted what had been done, but his respect for Lucifer, says Socrates, induced him to be silent about it, and, on his departure, he engaged that all things should be set right by a council of bishops. Subsequently, he laboured with great earnestness to unite the dissentients, but without effect. Shortly after the departure of Eusebius, Meletius arrived in Antioch, and was obliged to assemble the faithful who clung to him outside the walls of the city. This was in 362. On June 26th, 363, Julian died, and his successor, Jovian, was a Catholic. Instantly the party of Acacius held a conclave, and agreed to become orthodox, conforming to the Catholic creed, showing very plainly, says Socrates, that their great object was to be in agreement with the imperial mind. Acacius had a meeting with Meletius, and joined his party.

The Emperor Jovian was succeeded by Valens in the East, in 364, and Meletius was again driven into exile, for the cruel tyrant was an Arian. As he was being taken out of the city in the chariot of the governor, the mob, exasperated at losing their beloved prelate, would have stoned the chief magistrate, had not Meletius screened him with his mantle. He was banished into Armenia, and during his absence, the Catholics were left without pastors through the severity of the imperial orders. Valens fell before the Goths, in the great battle of Hadrianople, in 378, and was succeeded by Gratian, who recalled the bishops that had been banished, and ordered "that the churches should be given up to those who held communion with Damasus, bishop of Rome."³⁸ Paulinus promised to communicate on the subject with Damasus. "Meletius, the mildest of men," continues Theodoret, "addressed Paulinus in a kind and affectionate manner: 'As God,' said he, 'committed to me the care of this flock, and as you have received the charge of another, and as our respective sheep hold the same doctrines, let us, O friend, unite our flocks. Let us throw aside all contests for superiority, and tend with equal assiduity the sheep entrusted to us. If the episcopal chair of this city be to us a matter of contention, let us place the holy gospel upon it, and let us seat ourselves on each side of it. If I die first, thou, O friend, wilt become the only ruler of the flock; but if your death occur before mine, I will, as far as I am able, tend the flock alone.' Paulinus, however, refused to comply with the offer so kindly and affectionately made by Meletius. The general sent by Gratian to execute his orders, after reflecting on what had been stated, gave up the churches to the holy Meletius. Paulinus continued to rule those who had from the beginning separated themselves from the rest of the flock."