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           Title: NPNF211. Sulpitius Severus, Vincent of Lerins, John Cassian
      Creator(s): Schaff, Philip
     Print Basis: Edinburgh, T & T Clark
          Rights: Public Domain
   CCEL Subjects: All; Early Church
      LC Call no: BR60
   LC Subjects:

   Christianity

   Early Christian Literature. Fathers of the Church, etc.
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  A SELECT LIBRARY

    OF THE

                                   NICENE AND

                              POST-NICENE FATHERS

    OF

THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH.

  SECOND SERIES

   TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH WITH PROLEGOMENA AND EXPLANATORY NOTES.

   Edited by

   PHILIP SCHAFF, D.D., LL.D.,

   PROFESSOR OF CHURCH HISTORY IN THE UNION THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, NEW
   YORK.

   AND

   HENRY WACE, D.D.,

   PRINCIPAL OF KING'S COLLEGE, LONDON.

  VOLUME XI

   Sulpitius Severus, Vincent of Lerins, John Cassian

  T&T CLARK

   EDINBURGH
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   WM. B. EERDMANS PUBLISHING COMPANY

   GRAND RAPIDS, MICHIGAN
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                        The Works of Sulpitius Severus.

        Translated,

  with preface, and notes,

        by

Rev. Alexander Roberts, D.D.,

      Professor of Humanity, University of St. Andrews, Scotland.
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Life and Writings of Sulpitius Severus.
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   Sulpitius (or Sulpicius) Severus was born in Aquitania about a.d. 363,
   and died, as is generally supposed, in a.d. 420. He was thus a
   contemporary of the two great Fathers of the Church, St. Jerome and St.
   Augustine. The former refers to him in his Commentary on the 36th
   chapter of Ezekiel as "our friend Severus." St. Augustine, again,
   having occasion to allude to him in his 205th letter, describes him as
   "a man excelling in learning and wisdom." Sulpitius belonged to an
   illustrious family. He was very carefully educated, and devoted himself
   in his early years to the practice of oratory. He acquired a high
   reputation at the bar; but, while yet in the prime of life, he resolved
   to leave it, and seek, in company with some pious friends, contentment
   and peace in a life of retirement and religious exercises. The
   immediate occasion of this resolution was the premature death of his
   wife, whom he had married at an early age, and to whom he was deeply
   attached. His abandonment of the pleasures and pursuits of the world
   took place about a.d. 392; and, notwithstanding all the entreaties and
   expostulations of his father, he continued, from that date to his
   death, to lead a life of the strictest seclusion. Becoming a Presbyter
   of the Church, he attached himself to St. Martin of Tours, for whom he
   ever afterwards cherished the profoundest admiration and affection, and
   whose extraordinary career he has traced with a loving pen in by far
   the most interesting of his works.

   It is stated by some ancient writers that Sulpitius ultimately incurred
   the charge of heresy, having, to some extent, embraced Pelagian
   opinions. And there have not been wanting those in modern times who
   thought they could detect traces of such errors in his works. But it
   seems to us that there is no ground for any such conclusion. Sulpitius
   constantly presents himself to us as a most strenuous upholder of
   "catholic" or "orthodox" doctrines. It is evident that his whole heart
   was engaged in the love and maintenance of these doctrines: he counts
   as his "friends" those only who consistently adhered to them; and,
   while by no means in favor of bitterly prosecuting or severely
   punishing "heretics," he shrunk with abhorrence from all thought of
   communion with them. Perhaps the most striking impression we receive
   from a perusal of his writings is his sincerity. We may often feel that
   he is over-credulous in his acceptance of the miraculous; and we may
   lament his narrowness in clinging so tenaciously to mere ecclesiastical
   formulae; but we are always impressed with the genuineness of his
   convictions, and with his fervent desire to bring what he believed to
   be truth under the attention of his readers.

   The style of Sulpitius is, upon the whole, marked by a considerable
   degree of classical purity and clearness. He has been called "the
   Christian Sallust," and there are not a few obvious resemblances
   between the two writers. But some passages occur in Sulpitius which are
   almost, if not entirely, unintelligible. This is owing partly to the
   uncertainty of the text, and partly to the use of terms which had
   sprung up since classical times, and the exact import of which it is
   impossible to determine. In executing our version of this author (now
   for the first time, we believe, translated into English), we have had
   constantly before us the editions of Sigonius (1609), of Hornius
   (1664), of Vorstius (1709), and of Halm (1866). We have also consulted
   a very old French translation of the Historia Sacra, published at Rouen
   in 1580.

   The order in which we have arranged the writings of Sulpitius is as
   follows:--

   1. Life of St. Martin.

   2. Letters (undoubted).

   3. Dialogues.

   4. Letters (doubtful).

   5. Sacred History.

   By far the most attractive of these works are those bearing on the life
   and achievements of St. Martin. Sulpitius delights to return again and
   again to this wonderful man, and cannot find language sufficiently
   strong in which to extol his merits. Hence, not only in the professed
   Life, but also in the Letters and Dialogues, we have him brought very
   fully before us. The reader will find near the beginning of the Vita as
   translated by us, a note bearing upon the solemn asseverations of
   Sulpitius as to the reality of the miracles which Martin performed.

   Most of the Letters here given are deemed spurious by Halm, the latest
   editor of our author. He has, nevertheless, included the whole of them
   in his edition, and we have thought it desirable to follow his example
   in our translation.

   The Sacred History of Sulpitius has for its object to present a
   compendious history of the world from the Creation down to the year
   a.d. 400. The first and longer portion of the work is simply an
   abridgment of the Scripture narrative. The latter part is more
   interesting and valuable, as it deals with events lying outside of
   Scripture, and respecting which we are glad to obtain information from
   all available sources. Unfortunately, however, Sulpitius is not always
   a trustworthy authority. His inaccuracies in the first part of his work
   are very numerous, and will be found pointed out in our version.

   The following are some of the Estimates which have been formed of our
   author.

   Paulinus, a contemporary of Sulpitius, and bishop of Nola, addressed to
   him about fifty letters, in the fifth of which he thus writes: "It
   certainly would not have been given to thee to draw up an account of
   Martin, unless by a pure heart thou hadst rendered thy mouth worthy of
   uttering his sacred praises. Thou art blessed, therefore, of the Lord,
   inasmuch as thou hast been able, in worthy style, and with proper
   feeling, to complete the history of so great a priest, and so
   illustrious a confessor. Blessed, too, is he, in accordance with his
   merits, who has obtained a historian worthy of his faith and of his
   life; and who has become consecrated to the Divine glory by his own
   virtues, and to human memory by thy narrative regarding him."

   Gennadius (died a.d. 496), in his "Catalogue of illustrious men," says:
   "The Presbyter Severus, whose cognomen was Sulpitius, belonged to the
   province of Aquitania. He was a man distinguished both for his family
   and learning, and was remarkable for his love of poverty and humility.
   He was also a great friend of some holy men, such as Martin, bishop of
   Tours, and Paulinus, bishop of Nola; and his works are by no means to
   be neglected."

   In modern times, J. J. Scaliger has said of Sulpitius, "He is the
   purest of all the ecclesiastical writers." And Vossius, referring to
   some remarks of Baronius on Sulpitius, says: "I differ from him
   (Baronius) in this, that, without sufficient care, he calls Gennadius
   the contemporary of Severus, since Gennadius flourished seventy years,
   more or less, after Severus. For he dedicated his book `On Faith' (as
   he himself tells us) to Pope Gelasius, who became bishop of Rome in
   a.d. 492. But he greatly extols the holiness of Sulpitius; and in the
   Roman martyrology his memory (i.e. of Sulpitius) is celebrated on the
   29th of January."

   Archdeacon Farrar has recently remarked concerning Martin and
   Sulpitius, "Owing partly to the eloquent and facile style of his
   (Martin's) biographer, Sulpicius Severus, his name was known from
   Armenia to Egypt more widely than that of any other monk or bishop of
   his day."--Lives of the Fathers, i. 628.
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                               Sulpitius Severus

On the Life of St. Martin.
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    Preface to Desiderius.

   Severus to his dearest brother Desiderius sendeth greeting. I had
   determined, my like-minded brother, to keep private, and confine within
   the walls of my own house, the little treatise which I had written
   concerning the life of St. Martin. I did so, as I am not gifted with
   much talent, and shrank from the criticisms of the world, lest (as I
   think will be the case) my somewhat unpolished style should displease
   my readers, and I should be deemed highly worthy of general
   reprehension for having too boldly laid hold of a subject which ought
   to have been reserved for truly eloquent writers. But I have not been
   able to refuse your request again and again presented. For what could
   there be which I would not grant in deference to your love, even at the
   expense of my own modesty? However, I have submitted the work to you on
   the sure understanding that you will reveal it to no other, having
   received your promise to that effect. Nevertheless, I have my fears
   that you will become the means of its publication to the world; and I
   well know that, once issued, it can never [1] be recalled. If this
   shall happen, and you come to know that it is read by some others, you
   will, I trust, kindly ask the readers to attend to the facts related,
   rather than the language in which they are set forth. You will beg them
   not to be offended if the style chances unpleasantly to affect their
   ears, because the kingdom of God consists not of eloquence, but faith.
   Let them also bear in mind that salvation was preached to the world,
   not by orators, but by fishermen, although God could certainly have
   adopted the other course, had it been advantageous. For my part,
   indeed, when I first applied my mind to writing what follows, because I
   thought it disgraceful that the excellences of so great a man should
   remain concealed, I resolved with myself not to feel ashamed on account
   of solecisms of language. This I did because I had never attained to
   any great knowledge of such things; or, if I had formerly some taste of
   studies of the kind, I had lost the whole of that, through having
   neglected these matters for so long a course of time. But, after all,
   that I may not have in future to adopt such an irksome mode of
   self-defense, the best way will be that the book should be published,
   if you think right, with the author's name suppressed. In order that
   this may be done, kindly erase the title which the book bears on its
   front, so that the page may be silent; and (what is quite enough) let
   the book proclaim its subject-matter, while it tells nothing of the
   author.
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   [1]                                             "Delere licebit Quod
   non edideris: nescit vox missa reverti."
            --Hor. Art Poet. 389-90.
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    Chapter I.

   Reasons for writing the Life of St. Martin.

   Most men being vainly devoted to the pursuit of worldly glory, have, as
   they imagined, acquired a memorial of their own names from this source;
   viz. devoting their pens to the embellishment of the lives of famous
   men. This course, although it did not secure for them a lasting
   reputation, still has undoubtedly brought them some fulfilment of the
   hope they cherished. It has done so, both by preserving their own
   memory, though to no purpose, and because, through their having
   presented to the world the examples of great men, no small emulation
   has been excited in the bosoms of their readers. Yet, notwithstanding
   these things, their labors have in no degree borne upon the blessed and
   never-ending life to which we look forward. For what has a glory,
   destined to perish with the world, profited those men themselves who
   have written on mere secular matters? Or what benefit has posterity
   derived from reading of Hector as a warrior, or Socrates as an
   expounder of philosophy? There can be no profit in such things, since
   it is not only folly to imitate the persons referred to, but absolute
   madness not to assail them with the utmost severity. For, in truth,
   those persons who estimate human life only by present actions, have
   consigned their hopes to fables, and their souls to the tomb. In fact,
   they gave themselves up to be perpetuated simply in the memory of
   mortals, whereas it is the duty of man rather to seek after eternal
   life than an eternal memorial and that, not by writing, or fighting, or
   philosophizing, but by living a pious, holy, and religious life. This
   erroneous conduct of mankind, being enshrined in literature, has
   prevailed to such an extent that it has found many who have been
   emulous either of the vain philosophy or the foolish excellence which
   has been celebrated. For this reason, I think I will accomplish
   something well worth the necessary pains, if I write the life of a most
   holy man, which shall serve in future as an example to others; by
   which, indeed, the readers shall be roused to the pursuit of true
   knowledge, and heavenly warfare, and divine virtue. In so doing, we
   have regard also to our own advantage, so that we may look for, not a
   vain remembrance among men, but an eternal reward from God. For,
   although we ourselves have not lived in such a manner that we can serve
   for an example to others, nevertheless, we have made it our endeavor
   that he should not remain unknown who was a man worthy of imitation. I
   shall therefore set about writing the life of St. Martin, and shall
   narrate both what he did previous to his episcopate, and what he
   performed as a bishop. At the same time, I cannot hope to set forth all
   that he was or did. Those excellences of which he alone was conscious
   are completely unknown, because, as he did not seek for honor from men,
   he desired, as much as he could accomplish it, that his virtues should
   be concealed. And even of those which had become known to us, we have
   omitted a great number, because we have judged it enough if only the
   more striking and eminent should be recorded. At the same time, I had
   in the interests of readers to see to it that, no undue amount of
   instances being set before them should make them weary of the subject.
   But I implore those who are to read what follows to give full faith to
   the things narrated, and to believe that I have written nothing of
   which I had not certain knowledge and evidence. I should, in fact, have
   preferred to be silent rather than to narrate things which are false.
   [2]
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   [2] This is a remarkable asseveration in view of the many miraculous
   accounts which follow. When we remember, on the one hand, how intimate
   Sulpitius was with St. Martin, and how strongly, as in this passage, he
   avouches the truth of all he narrates, it is extremely difficult to
   decide as to the real value of his narrative. It has been said (Smith's
   Dict. II. 967) that Sulpitius' Life of St. Martinus is "filled with the
   most puerile fables," and undoubtedly many of the stories recorded are
   of that character. But whether, considering the close relation in which
   the two men stood to each other, all the miraculous accounts are to be
   discredited, must be left to the judgment of the reader. The following
   valuable remarks may be quoted on this interesting question. "Some
   forty years ago," writes Dr. Cazenove, "an audience in Oxford was
   listening to a professor of modern history (Dr. Arnold of Rugby), who
   discussed this subject. After pointing out the difference between the
   Gospel miracles and those recorded by ecclesiastical historians, the
   lecturer proceeded as follows: `Some appear to be unable to conceive of
   belief or unbelief, except as having some ulterior object: "We believe
   this because we love it: we disbelieve it because we wish it to be
   disproved." There is, however, in minds more healthfully constituted a
   belief and a disbelief, founded solely upon the evidence of the case,
   arising neither out of partiality, nor out of prejudice against the
   supposed conclusions, which may result from its truth or falsehood. And
   in such a spirit the historical student will consider the case of
   Bede's and other historians' miracles. He will, I think, as a general
   rule, disbelieve them, for the immense multitude which he finds
   recorded, and which, I suppose, no credulity could believe in, shows
   sufficiently that on this point there was a total want of judgment and
   a blindness of belief generally existing which make the testimony
   wholly insufficient; and, while the external evidence in favor of these
   alleged miracles is so unsatisfactory, there are, for the most part,
   strong internal evidence against them. But with regard to some
   miracles, he will see that there is no strong a priori improbability in
   their occurence, but rather the contrary; as, for instance, when the
   first missionaries of the Gospel in a barbarous country are said to
   have been assisted by a manifestation of the spirit of power; and, if
   the evidence appears to warrant his belief, he will readily and gladly
   yield it. And in doing so he will have the countenance of a great man
   (Burke) who in his fragment of English history has not hesitated to
   express the same sentiments. Nor will he be unwilling, but most
   thankful, to find sufficient grounds for believing that not only at the
   beginning of the Gospel, but in ages long afterwards, believing prayer
   has received extraordinary answers; that it has been heard even in more
   than it might have dared to ask for. Yet, again, if the gift of
   faith--the gift as distinguished from the grace--of the faith which
   removes mountains, has been given to any in later times in remarkable
   measure the mighty works which such faith may have wrought cannot be
   incredible in themselves to those who remember our Lord's promise, and
   if it appears from satisfactory evidence that they were wrought
   actually, we shall believe them,--and believe with joy. Only as it is
   in most cases impossible to admit the trustworthiness of the evidence,
   our minds must remain at the most in a state of suspense; and I do not
   know why it is necessary to come to any positive decision.'"--"The
   Fathers for English Readers": St. Hilary of Poitiers and St. Martin of
   Tours, p. 191. On this subject it has lately been said: "Most, if not
   all, of the so-called miracles which were supposed to surround Martin
   with a blaze of glow were either absolutely and on the face of them
   false; or were gross exaggerations of natural events; or were
   subjective impressions clothed in objective images; or were the
   distortions of credulous rumor; or at the best cannot claim in their
   favor a single particle of trustworthy evidence. They cannot be
   narrated as though they were actual events. Martin was an eminent
   bishop but half of the wonderful deeds attributed to him are unworthy
   and absurd."--Farrar's Lives of the Fathers, I. 644.
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    Chapter II.

   Military Service of St. Martin.

   Martin, then, was born at Sabaria [3] in Pannonia, but was brought up
   at Ticinum, [4] which is situated in Italy. His parents were, according
   to the judgment of the world, of no mean rank, but were heathens. His
   father was at first simply a soldier, but afterwards a military
   tribune. He himself in his youth following military pursuits was
   enrolled in the imperial guard, first under king Constantine, and then
   under Julian Caesar. This, however, was not done of his own free will,
   for, almost from his earliest years, the holy infancy of the
   illustrious boy aspired rather to the service of God. [5] For, when he
   was of the age of ten years, he betook himself, against the wish of his
   parents, to the Church, and begged that he might become a catechumen.
   Soon afterwards, becoming in a wonderful manner completely devoted to
   the service of God, when he was twelve years old, he desired to enter
   on the life of a hermit; and he would have followed up that desire with
   the necessary vows, had not his as yet too youthful age prevented. His
   mind, however, being always engaged on matters pertaining to the
   monasteries or the Church, already meditated in his boyish years what
   he afterwards, as a professed servant of Christ, fulfilled. But when an
   edict was issued by the ruling powers [6] in the state, that the sons
   of veterans should be enrolled for military service, and he, on the
   information furnished by his father, (who looked with an evil eye on
   his blessed actions) having been seized and put in chains, when he was
   fifteen years old, was compelled to take the military oath, then showed
   himself content with only one servant as his attendant. And even to
   him, changing places as it were, he often acted as though, while really
   master, he had been inferior; to such a degree that, for the most part,
   he drew off his [servant's] boots and cleaned them with his own hand;
   while they took their meals together, the real master, however,
   generally acting the part of servant. During nearly three years before
   his baptism, he was engaged in the profession of arms, but he kept
   completely free from those vices in which that class of men become too
   frequently involved. He showed exceeding kindness towards his
   fellow-soldiers, and held them in wonderful affection; while his
   patience and humility surpassed what seemed possible to human nature.
   There is no need to praise the self-denial which he displayed: it was
   so great that, even at that date, he was regarded not so much as being
   a soldier as a monk. By all these qualities he had so endeared himself
   to the whole body of his comrades, that they esteemed him while they
   marvelously loved him. Although not yet made a new creature [7] in
   Christ, he, by his good works, acted the part of a candidate for
   baptism. This he did, for instance, by aiding those who were in
   trouble, by furnishing assistance to the wretched, by supporting the
   needy, by clothing the naked, while he reserved nothing for himself
   from his military pay except what was necessary for his daily
   sustenance. Even then, far from being a senseless hearer of the Gospel,
   he so far complied with its precepts as to take no thought about the
   morrow.
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   [3] Sarwar.

   [4] Pavia.

   [5] The text is here corrupt and uncertain, but the general meaning is
   plain to the above effect. Hahn has adopted "divinam servitutem,"
   instead of the common "divina servitute."

   [6] Sulpitius uses reges instead of the more common expression
   imperatores.

   [7] Sulpitius manifestly refers to baptism in these words. However
   mistakenly, several others of the early Fathers held that regeneration
   does not take place before baptism, and that baptism is, in fact,
   absolutely necessary to regeneration. St. Ambrose has the following
   strong statement on the subject: "Credit catechumenus; sed nisi
   baptizetur, remissionem peccatorum non potest obtinere."--Libri de his,
   qui initiantur mysteriis, chap. 4.
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    Chapter III.

   Christ appears to St. Martin.

   Accordingly, at a certain period, when he had nothing except his arms
   and his simple military dress, in the middle of winter, a winter which
   had shown itself more severe than ordinary, so that the extreme cold
   was proving fatal to many, he happened to meet at the gate of the city
   of Amiens [8] a poor man destitute of clothing. He was entreating those
   that passed by to have compassion upon him, but all passed the wretched
   man without notice, when Martin, that man full of God, recognized that
   a being to whom others showed no pity, was, in that respect, left to
   him. Yet, what should he do? He had nothing except the cloak in which
   he was clad, for he had already parted with the rest of his garments
   for similar purposes. Taking, therefore, his sword with which he was
   girt, he divided his cloak into two equal parts, and gave one part to
   the poor man, while he again clothed himself with the remainder. Upon
   this, some of the by-standers laughed, because he was now an unsightly
   object, and stood out as but partly dressed. Many, however, who were of
   sounder understanding, groaned deeply because they themselves had done
   nothing similar. They especially felt this, because, being possessed of
   more than Martin, they could have clothed the poor man without reducing
   themselves to nakedness. In the following night, when Martin had
   resigned himself to sleep, he had a vision of Christ arrayed in that
   part of his cloak with which he had clothed the poor man. He
   contemplated the Lord with the greatest attention, and was told to own
   as his the robe which he had given. Ere long, he heard Jesus saying
   with a clear voice to the multitude of angels standing round--"Martin,
   who is still but a catechumen, clothed [9] me with this robe." The
   Lord, truly mindful of his own words (who had said when on
   earth--"Inasmuch [10] as ye have done these things to one of the least
   of these, ye have done them unto me), declared that he himself had been
   clothed in that poor man; and to confirm the testimony he bore to so
   good a deed, he condescended to show him himself in that very dress
   which the poor man had received. After this vision the sainted man was
   not puffed up with human glory, but, acknowledging the goodness of God
   in what had been done, and being now of the age of twenty years, he
   hastened to receive baptism. He did not, however, all at once, retire
   from military service, yielding to the entreaties of his tribune, whom
   he admitted to be his familiar tent-companion. [11] For the tribune
   promised that, after the period of his office had expired, he too would
   retire from the world. Martin, kept back by the expectation of this
   event, continued, although but in name, to act the part of a soldier,
   for nearly two years after he had received baptism.
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   [8] The place here called by Sulpitius "Ambianensium civitas" was also
   known as "Samarobriva," and is supposed to be the modern Amiens.

   [9] St. Matt. xxv. 40.

   [10] There is a peculiar use of quamdiu in the old Latin rendering of
   the passage here quoted. It is used as an equivalent for the Greek eph'
   hoson, no doubt with the meaning "inasmuch as."

   [11] Comp. Tacitus, Agric. chap. 5, "electus, quem contubernio
   aestimaret."
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    Chapter IV.

   Martin retires from Military Service.

   In the meantime, as the barbarians were rushing within the two
   divisions of Gaul, Julian Caesar, [12] bringing an army together at the
   city [13] of the Vaugiones, began to distribute a donative to the
   soldiers.  As was the custom in such a case, they were called forward,
   one by one, until it came to the turn of Martin. Then, indeed, judging
   it a suitable opportunity for seeking his discharge--for he did not
   think it would be proper for him, if he were not to continue in the
   service, to receive a donative--he said to Caesar, "Hitherto I have
   served you as a soldier: allow me now to become a soldier to God: let
   the man who is to serve thee receive thy donative: I am the soldier of
   Christ: it is not lawful for me to fight." Then truly the tyrant
   stormed on hearing such words, declaring that, from fear of the battle,
   which was to take place on the morrow, and not from any religious
   feeling, Martin withdrew from the service. But Martin, full of courage,
   yea all the more resolute from the danger that had been set before him,
   exclaims, "If this conduct of mine is ascribed to cowardice, and not to
   faith, I will take my stand unarmed before the line of battle tomorrow,
   and in the name of the Lord Jesus, protected by the sign of the cross,
   and not by shield or helmet, I will safely penetrate the ranks of the
   enemy." He is ordered, therefore, to be thrust back into prison,
   determined on proving his words true by exposing himself unarmed to the
   barbarians. But, on the following day, the enemy sent ambassadors to
   treat about peace and surrendered both themselves and all their
   possessions. In these circumstances who can doubt that this victory was
   due to the saintly man? It was granted him that he should not be sent
   unarmed to the fight. And although the good Lord could have preserved
   his own soldier, even amid the swords and darts of the enemy, yet that
   his blessed eyes might not be pained by witnessing the death of others,
   he removed all necessity for fighting. For Christ did not require to
   secure any other victory in behalf of his own soldier, than that, the
   enemy being subdued without bloodshed, no one should suffer death.
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   [12] Commonly known as Julian the Apostate.

   [13] This city was called Borbetomagus, and is represented by the
   modern Worms.
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    Chapter V.

   Martin converts a Robber to the Faith.

   From that time quitting military service, Martin earnestly sought after
   the society of Hilarius, bishop of the city Pictava, [14] whose faith
   in the things of God was then regarded as of high renown, and in
   universal esteem. For some time Martin made his abode with him. Now,
   this same Hilarius, having instituted him in the office of the
   diaconate, endeavored still more closely to attach him to himself, and
   to bind him by leading him to take part in Divine service. But when he
   constantly refused, crying out that he was unworthy, Hilarius, as being
   a man of deep penetration, perceived that he could only be constrained
   in this way, if he should lay that sort of office upon him, in
   discharging which there should seem to be a kind of injury done him. He
   therefore appointed him to be an exorcist. Martin did not refuse this
   appointment, from the fear that he might seem to have looked down upon
   it as somewhat humble. Not long after this, he was warned in a dream
   that he should visit his native land, and more particularly his
   parents, who were still involved in heathenism, with a regard for their
   religious interests. He set forth in accordance with the expressed wish
   of the holy Hilarius, and, after being adjured by him with many prayers
   and tears, that he would in due time return. According to report Martin
   entered on that journey in a melancholy frame of mind, after calling
   the brethren to witness that many sufferings lay before him. The result
   fully justified this prediction. For, first of all, having followed
   some devious paths among the Alps, he fell into the hands of robbers.
   And when one of them lifted up his axe and poised it above Martin's
   head, another of them met with his right hand the blow as it fell;
   nevertheless, having had his hands bound behind his back, he was handed
   over to one of them to be guarded and stripped. The robber, having led
   him to a private place apart from the rest, began to enquire of him who
   he was. Upon this, Martin replied that he was a Christian. The robber
   next asked him whether he was afraid. Then indeed Martin most
   courageously replied that he never before had felt so safe, because he
   knew that the mercy of the Lord would be especially present with him in
   the midst of trials. He added that he grieved rather for the man in
   whose hands he was, because, by living a life of robbery, he was
   showing himself unworthy of the mercy of Christ. And then entering on a
   discourse concerning Evangelical truth, he preached the word of God to
   the robber. Why should I delay stating the result? The robber believed;
   and, after expressing his respect for Martin, he restored him to the
   way, entreating him to pray the Lord for him. That same robber was
   afterwards seen leading a religious life; so that, in fact, the
   narrative I have given above is based upon an account furnished by
   himself.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [14] This city of the Pictones (or Pictavi) who are mentioned by
   Caesar, Bell Gall. iii. 11. Their territory corresponded to the modern
   diocese of Poitiers.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VI.

   The Devil throws himself in the Way of Martin.

   Martin, then, having gone on from thence, after he had passed Milan,
   the devil met him in the way, having assumed the form of a man. The
   devil first asked him to what place he was going. Martin having
   answered him to the effect that he was minded to go whithersoever the
   Lord called him, the devil said to him, "Wherever you go, or whatever
   you attempt, the devil will resist you." Then Martin, replying to him
   in the prophetical word, said, "The Lord is my helper; I will not fear
   what man can do unto me." [15] Upon this, his enemy immediately
   vanished out of his sight; and thus, as he had intended in his heart
   and mind, he set free his mother from the errors of heathenism, though
   his father continued to cleave to its evils. However, he saved many by
   his example.

   After this, when the Arian heresy had spread through the whole world,
   and was especially powerful in Illyria, and when he, almost
   single-handed, was fighting most strenuously against the treachery of
   the priests, and had been subjected to many punishments (for he was
   publicly scourged, and at last was compelled to leave the city), again
   betaking himself to Italy, and having found the Church in the two
   divisions of Gaul in a distracted condition through the departure also
   of the holy Hilarius, whom the violence of the heretics had driven into
   exile, he established a monastery for himself at Milan. There, too,
   Auxentius, the originator and leader of the Arians, bitterly persecuted
   him; and, after he had assailed him with many injuries, violently
   expelled him from the city. Thinking, therefore, that it was necessary
   to yield to circumstances, he withdrew to the island Gallinaria, [16]
   with a certain presbyter as his companion, a man of distinguished
   excellences. Here he subsisted for some time on the roots of plants;
   and, while doing so, he took for food hellebore, which is, as people
   say, a poisonous kind of grass. But when he perceived the strength of
   the poison increasing within him, and death now nearly at hand, he
   warded off the imminent danger by means of prayer, and immediately all
   his pains were put to flight. And not long after having discovered
   that, through penitence on the part of the king, permission to return
   had been granted to holy Hilarius, he made an effort to meet him at
   Rome, and, with this view, set out for that city.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [15] Comp. Ps. cxviii. 6.

   [16] An island near Albium Ingaunum--the modern Allenga, on the gulf of
   Genoa. The island was so named from abounding in fowls in a half tamed
   state. It still bears the name of Gallinaria.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VII.

   Martin restores a Catechumen to Life.

   As Hilarius had already gone away, so Martin followed in his footsteps;
   and having been most joyously welcomed by him, he established for
   himself a monastery not far from the town. At this time a certain
   catechumen joined him, being desirous of becoming instructed in the
   doctrines [17] and habits of the most holy man. But, after the lapse
   only of a few days, the catechumen, seized with a languor, began to
   suffer from a violent fever. It so happened that Martin had then left
   home, and having remained away three days, he found on his return that
   life had departed from the catechumen; and so suddenly had death
   occurred, that he had left this world without receiving baptism. The
   body being laid out in public was being honored by the last sad offices
   on the part of the mourning brethren, when Martin hurries up to them
   with tears and lamentations. But then laying hold, as it were, of the
   Holy Spirit, with the whole powers of his mind, he orders the others to
   quit the cell in which the body was lying; and bolting the door, he
   stretches himself at full length on the dead limbs of the departed
   brother. Having given himself for some time to earnest prayer, and
   perceiving by means of the Spirit of God that power was present, [18]
   he then rose up for a little, and gazing on the countenance of the
   deceased, he waited without misgiving for the result of his prayer and
   of the mercy of the Lord. And scarcely had the space of two hours
   elapsed, when he saw the dead man begin to move a little in all his
   members, and to tremble with his eyes opened for the practice of sight.
   Then indeed, turning to the Lord with a loud voice and giving thanks,
   he filled the cell with his ejaculations. Hearing the noise, those who
   had been standing at the door immediately rush inside. And truly a
   marvelous spectacle met them, for they beheld the man alive whom they
   had formerly left dead. Thus being restored to life, and having
   immediately obtained baptism, he lived for many years afterwards; and
   he was the first who offered himself to us both as a subject that had
   experienced the virtues [19] of Martin, and as a witness to their
   existence.  The same man was wont to relate that, when he left the
   body, he was brought before the tribunal of the Judge, and being
   assigned to gloomy regions and vulgar crowds, he received a severe [20]
   sentence. Then, however, he added, it was suggested by two angels of
   the Judge that he was the man for whom Martin was praying; and that, on
   this account, he was ordered to be led back by the same angels, and
   given up to Martin, and restored to his former life. From this time
   forward, the name of the sainted man became illustrious, so that, as
   being reckoned holy by all, he was also deemed powerful and truly
   apostolical.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [17] All this seems to be implied in the words "institui disciplinis."

   [18] "adesse virtutem."

   [19] Or "powers" according to the use of the Greek word dunamis in Luke
   viii. 46.

   [20] Here again it is to be noted what fatal consequences were supposed
   to flow from dying without receiving baptism.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter VIII.

   Martin restores one that had been strangled.

   Not long after these events, while Martin was passing by the estate of
   a certain man named Lupicinus, who was held in high esteem according to
   the judgment of the world, he was received with shouting and the
   lamentations of a wailing crowd. Having, in an anxious state of mind
   gone up to that multitude, and enquired what such weeping meant, he was
   told that one of the slaves of the family had put an end to his life by
   hanging. Hearing this, Martin entered the cell in which the body was
   lying, and, excluding all the multitude, he stretched himself upon the
   body, and spent some little time in prayer. Ere long, the deceased,
   with life beaming in his countenance, and with his drooping eyes fixed
   on Martin's face, is aroused; and with a gentle effort attempting to
   rise, he laid hold of the right hand of the saintly man, and by this
   means stood upon his feet. In this manner, while the whole multitude
   looked on, he walked along with Martin to the porch of the house.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter IX.

   High Esteem in which Martin was held.

   Nearly about the same time, Martin was called upon to undertake the
   episcopate of the church at Tours; [21] but when he could not easily be
   drawn forth from his monastery, a certain Ruricius, one of the
   citizens, pretending that his wife was ill, and casting himself down at
   his knees, prevailed on him to go forth. Multitudes of the citizens
   having previously been posted by the road on which he traveled, he is
   thus under a kind of guard escorted to the city. An incredible number
   of people not only from that town, but also from the neighboring
   cities, had, in a wonderful manner, assembled to give their votes. [22]
   There was but one wish among all, there were the same prayers, and
   there was the same fixed opinion to the effect that Martin was most
   worthy of the episcopate, and that the church would be happy with such
   a priest. A few persons, however, and among these some of the bishops,
   who had been summoned to appoint a chief priest, were impiously
   offering resistance, asserting forsooth that Martin's person was
   contemptible, that he was unworthy of the episcopate, that he was a man
   despicable in countenance, that his clothing was mean, and his hair
   disgusting. This madness of theirs was ridiculed by the people of
   sounder judgment, inasmuch as such objectors only proclaimed the
   illustrious character of the man, while they sought to slander him. Nor
   truly was it allowed them to do anything else, than what the people,
   following the Divine will, desired [23] to be accomplished. Among the
   bishops, however, who had been present, a certain one of the name
   Defensor is said to have specially offered opposition; and on this
   account it was observed that he was at the time severely censured in
   the reading from the prophets. For when it so happened that the reader,
   whose duty it was to read in public that day, being blocked out by the
   people, failed to appear, the officials falling into confusion, while
   they waited for him who never came, one of those standing by, laying
   hold of the Psalter, seized upon the first verse which presented itself
   to him. Now, the Psalm ran thus: "Out of the mouth of babes and
   sucklings thou hast perfected praise because of thine enemies, that
   thou mightest destroy the enemy and the avenger." [24] On these words
   being read, a shout was raised by the people, and the opposite party
   were confounded. It was believed that this Psalm had been chosen by
   Divine ordination, that Defensor [25] might hear a testimony to his own
   work, because the praise of the Lord was perfected out of the mouth of
   babes and sucklings in the case of Martin, while the enemy was at the
   same time both pointed out and destroyed.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [21] The Turones occupied territory on both sides of the river Loire.
   Caesar refers to them (Bell. Gall. ii. 35, &c.). Their chief town was
   named Caesarodunum, the modern Tours.

   [22] It is clear from this passage that the people at large were
   accustomed in ancient times to give their votes on the appointment of a
   bishop.

   [23] We here adopt Halm's reading "cogitabat," in preference to the
   usual "cogebat."

   [24] Ps. viii. 3.

   [25] The word translated "avenger" in the English A.V. is "defensor" in
   the Vulgate, and thus the man referred to would have seemed to be
   expressly named.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter X.

   Martin as Bishop of Tours.

   And now having entered on the episcopal office, it is beyond my power
   fully to set forth how Martin distinguished himself in the discharge of
   its duties. For he remained with the utmost constancy, the same as he
   had been before. There was the same humility in his heart, and the same
   homeliness in his garments. Full alike of dignity and courtesy, he kept
   up the position of a bishop properly, yet in such a way as not to lay
   aside the objects and virtues of a monk. Accordingly he made use, for
   some time, of the cell connected with the church; but afterwards, when
   he felt it impossible to tolerate the disturbance caused by the numbers
   of those visiting it, he established a monastery for himself about two
   miles outside the city. This spot was so secret and retired that he
   enjoyed in it the solitude of a hermit. For, on one side, it was
   surrounded by a precipitous rock of a lofty mountain, while the river
   Loire had shut in the rest of the plain by a bay extending back for a
   little distance; and the place could be approached only by one, and
   that a very narrow passage. Here, then, he possessed a cell constructed
   of wood. Many also of the brethren had, in the same manner, fashioned
   retreats for themselves, but most of them had formed these out of the
   rock of the overhanging mountain, hollowed into caves. There were
   altogether eighty disciples, who were being disciplined after the
   example of the saintly master. No one there had anything which was
   called his own; all things were possessed in common. It was not allowed
   either to buy or to sell anything, as is the custom among most monks.
   No art was practiced there, except that of transcribers, and even this
   was assigned to the brethren of younger years, while the elders spent
   their time in prayer. Rarely did any one of them go beyond the cell,
   unless when they assembled at the place of prayer. They all took their
   food together, after the hour of fasting was past. No one used wine,
   except when illness compelled them to do so. Most of them were clothed
   in garments of camels' hair. [26] Any dress approaching to softness
   [27] was there deemed criminal, and this must be thought the more
   remarkable, because many among them were such as are deemed of noble
   rank. These, though far differently brought up, had forced themselves
   down to this degree of humility and patient endurance, and we have seen
   numbers of these afterwards made bishops. For what city or church would
   there be that would not desire to have its priests from among those in
   the monastery of Martin?
     __________________________________________________________________

   [26] Cf. St. Matt. iii. 4.

   [27] In St. Matt. xi. 8, there is a reference to those "that wear soft
   clothing,"--hoi ta malaka phorountes.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XI.

   Martin demolishes an Altar consecrated to a Robber.

   But let me proceed to a description of other excellences which Martin
   displayed as a bishop. There was, not far from the town, a place very
   close to the monastery, which a false human opinion had consecrated, on
   the supposition that some martyrs had been buried together there. For
   it was also believed that an altar had been placed there by former
   bishops. But Martin, not inclined to give a hasty belief to things
   uncertain, often asked from those who were his elders, whether among
   the presbyters or clerics, that the name of the martyr, or the time
   when he suffered, should be made known to him. He did so, he said,
   because he had great scruples on these points, inasmuch as no steady
   tradition respecting them had come down from antiquity. Having,
   therefore, for a time kept away from the place, by no means wishing to
   lessen the religious veneration with which it was regarded, because he
   was as yet uncertain, but, at the same time not lending his authority
   to the opinion of the multitude, lest a mere superstition should obtain
   a firmer footing, he one day went out to the place, taking a few
   brethren with him as companions. There standing above the very
   sepulchre, Martin prayed to the Lord that he would reveal, who the man
   in question was, and what was his character or desert. Next turning to
   the left-hand side, he sees standing very near a shade of a mean and
   cruel appearance. Martin commands him to tell his name and character.
   Upon this, he declares his name, and confesses his guilt. He says that
   he had been a robber, and that he was beheaded on account of his
   crimes; that he had been honored simply by an error of the multitude;
   that he had nothing in common with the martyrs, since glory was their
   portion, while punishment exacted its penalties from him. Those who
   stood by heard, in a wonderful way, the voice of the speaker, but they
   beheld no person. Then Martin made known what he had seen, and ordered
   the altar which had been there to be removed, and thus he delivered the
   people from the error of that superstition.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XII.

   Martin causes the Bearers of a Dead Body to stop.

   Now, it came to pass some time after the above, that while Martin was
   going a journey, he met the body of a certain heathen, which was being
   carried to the tomb with superstitious funeral rites. Perceiving from a
   distance the crowd that was approaching, and being ignorant as to what
   was going on, he stood still for a little while. For there was a
   distance of nearly half a mile between him and the crowd, so that it
   was difficult to discover what the spectacle he beheld really was.
   Nevertheless, because he saw it was a rustic gathering, and when the
   linen clothes spread over the body were blown about by the action of
   the wind, he believed that some profane rites of sacrifice were being
   performed. This thought occurred to him, because it was the custom of
   the Gallic rustics in their wretched folly to carry about through the
   fields the images of demons veiled with a white covering. Lifting up,
   therefore, the sign of the cross opposite to them, he commanded the
   crowd not to move from the place in which they were, and to set down
   the burden. Upon this, the miserable creatures might have been seen at
   first to become stiff like rocks. Next, as they endeavored, with every
   possible effort, to move forward, but were not able to take a step
   farther, they began to whirl themselves about in the most ridiculous
   fashion, until, not able any longer to sustain the weight, they set
   down the dead body. Thunderstruck, and gazing in bewilderment at each
   other as not knowing what had happened to them they remained sunk in
   silent thought. But when the saintly man discovered that they were
   simply a band of peasants celebrating funeral rites, and not sacrifices
   to the gods, again raising his hand, he gave them the power of going
   away, and of lifting up the body. Thus he both compelled them to stand
   when he pleased, and permitted them to depart when he thought good.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIII.

   Martin escapes from a Falling Pine-tree.

   Again, when in a certain village he had demolished a very ancient
   temple, and had set about cutting down a pine-tree, which stood close
   to the temple, the chief priest of that place, and a crowd of other
   heathens began to oppose him. And these people, though, under the
   influence of the Lord, they had been quiet while the temple was being
   overthrown, could not patiently allow the tree to be cut down. Martin
   carefully instructed them that there was nothing sacred in the trunk of
   a tree, and urged them rather to honor God whom he himself served. He
   added that there was a moral necessity why that tree should be cut
   down, because it had been dedicated to a demon. Then one of them who
   was bolder than the others says, "If you have any trust in thy God,
   whom you say you worship, we ourselves will cut down this tree, and be
   it your part to receive it when falling; for if, as you declare, your
   Lord is with you, you will escape all injury." Then Martin,
   courageously trusting in the Lord, promises that he would do what had
   been asked. Upon this, all that crowd of heathen agreed to the
   condition named; for they held the loss of their tree a small matter,
   if only they got the enemy of their religion buried beneath its fall.
   Accordingly, since that pine-tree was hanging over in one direction, so
   that there was no doubt to what side it would fall on being cut,
   Martin, having been bound, is, in accordance with the decision of these
   pagans, placed in that spot where, as no one doubted, the tree was
   about to fall. They began, therefore, to cut down their own tree, with
   great glee and joyfulness, while there was at some distance a great
   multitude of wondering spectators. And now the pine-tree began to
   totter, and to threaten its [28] own ruin by falling. The monks at a
   distance grew pale, and, terrified by the danger ever coming nearer,
   had lost all hope and confidence, expecting only the death of Martin.
   But he, trusting in the Lord, and waiting courageously, when now the
   falling pine had uttered its expiring crash, while it was now falling,
   while it was just rushing upon him, simply holding up his hand against
   it, he put in its way the sign of salvation. Then, indeed, after the
   manner of a spinning-top (one might have thought it driven [29] back),
   it swept round to the opposite side, to such a degree that it almost
   crushed the rustics, who had taken their places there in what was
   deemed a safe spot. Then truly, a shout being raised to heaven, the
   heathen were amazed by the miracle, while the monks wept for joy; and
   the name of Christ was in common extolled by all. The well-known result
   was that on that day salvation came to that region. For there was
   hardly one of that immense multitude of heathens who did not express a
   desire for the imposition of hands, and abandoning his impious errors,
   made a profession of faith in the Lord Jesus. Certainly, before the
   times of Martin, very few, nay, almost none, in those regions had
   received the name of Christ; but through his virtues and example that
   name has prevailed to such an extent, that now there is no place
   thereabouts which is not filled either with very crowded churches or
   monasteries. For wherever he destroyed heathen temples, there he used
   immediately to build either churches or monasteries.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [28] Perhaps "suam" here stands for "ejus," as in other passages of our
   author. The meaning will then be, "and to threaten his (Martin's)
   destruction by falling."

   [29] It seems better to preserve the parenthesis than to translate the
   words as they stand in Halm's text, "tum vero--velut turbinis modo
   retro actam putares--diversam in partem ruit."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIV.

   Martin destroys Heathen Temples and Altars.

   Nor did he show less eminence, much about the same time, in other
   transactions of a like kind. For, having in a certain village set fire
   to a very ancient and celebrated temple, the circle of flames was
   carried by the action of the wind upon a house which was very close to,
   yea, connected with, the temple. When Martin perceived this, he climbed
   by rapid ascent to the roof of the house, presenting himself in front
   of the advancing flames. Then indeed might the fire have been seen
   thrust back in a wonderful manner against the force of the wind, so
   that there appeared a sort of conflict of the two elements fighting
   together. Thus, by the influence of Martin, the fire only acted in the
   place where it was ordered to do so. But in a village which was named
   Leprosum, when he too wished to overthrow a temple which had acquired
   great wealth through the superstitious ideas entertained of its
   sanctity, a multitude of the heathen resisted him to such a degree that
   he was driven back not without bodily injury. He, therefore, withdrew
   to a place in the vicinity, and there for three days, clothed in
   sackcloth [30] and ashes fasting and praying the whole time, he
   besought the Lord, that, as he had not been able to overthrow that
   temple by human effort, Divine power might be exerted to destroy it.
   Then two angels, with spears and shields after the manner of heavenly
   warriors, suddenly presented themselves to him, saying that they were
   sent by the Lord to put to flight the rustic multitude, and to furnish
   protection to Martin, lest, while the temple was being destroyed, any
   one should offer resistance. They told him therefore to return, and
   complete the blessed work which he had begun. Accordingly Martin
   returned to the village; and while the crowds of heathen looked on in
   perfect quiet as he razed the pagan temple even to the foundations, he
   also reduced all the altars and images to dust. At this sight the
   rustics, when they perceived that they had been so astounded and
   terrified by an intervention of the Divine will, that they might not be
   found fighting against the bishop, almost all believed in the Lord
   Jesus. They then began to cry out openly and to confess that the God of
   Martin ought to be worshiped, and that the idols should be despised,
   which were not able to help them.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [30] Literally "a covering made of Cilician goats' hair." It was called
   Cilicium, and was worn by soldiers and others.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XV.

   Martin offers his Neck to an Assassin.

   I shall also relate what took place in the village of the AEdui. When
   Martin was there overthrowing a temple, a multitude of rustic heathen
   rushed upon him in a frenzy of rage. And when one of them, bolder than
   the rest, made an attack upon him with a drawn sword, Martin, throwing
   back his cloak, offered his bare neck to the assassin. Nor did the
   heathen delay to strike, but in the very act of lifting up his right
   arm, he fell to the ground on his back, and being overwhelmed by the
   fear of God, he entreated for pardon. Not unlike this was that other
   event which happened to Martin, that when a certain man had resolved to
   wound him with a knife as he was destroying some idols, at the very
   moment of fetching the blow, the weapon was struck out of his hands and
   disappeared. Very frequently, too, when the pagans were addressing him
   to the effect that he would not overthrow their temples, he so soothed
   and conciliated the minds of the heathen by his holy discourse that,
   the light of truth having been revealed to them, they themselves
   overthrew their own temples.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVI.

   Cures effected by St. Martin.

   Moreover, the gift [31] of accomplishing cures was so largely possessed
   by Martin, that scarcely any sick person came to him for assistance
   without being at once restored to health. This will clearly appear from
   the following example. A certain girl at Treves [32] was so completely
   prostrated by a terrible paralysis that for a long time she had been
   quite unable to make use of her body for any purpose, and being, as it
   were, already dead, only the smallest breath of life seemed still to
   remain in her. Her afflicted relatives were standing by, expecting
   nothing but her death, when it was suddenly announced that Martin had
   come to that city. When the father of the girl found that such was the
   case, he ran to make a request in behalf of his all but lifeless child.
   It happened that Martin had already entered the church. There, while
   the people were looking on, and in the presence of many other bishops,
   the old man, uttering a cry of grief, embraced the saint's knees and
   said: "My daughter is dying of a miserable kind of infirmity; and, what
   is more dreadful than death itself, she is now alive only in the
   spirit, her flesh being already dead before the time. I beseech thee to
   go to her, and give her thy blessing; for I believe that through you
   she will be restored to health." Martin, troubled by such an address,
   was bewildered, and shrank back, saying that this was a matter not in
   his own hands; that the old man was mistaken in the judgment he had
   formed; and that he was not worthy to be the instrument through whom
   the Lord should make a display of his power. The father, in tears,
   persevered in still more earnestly pressing the case, and entreated
   Martin to visit the dying girl. At last, constrained by the bishops
   standing by to go as requested, he went down to the home of the girl.
   An immense crowd was waiting at the doors, to see what the servant of
   the Lord would do. And first, betaking himself to his familiar arms in
   affairs of that kind, he cast himself down on the ground and prayed.
   Then gazing earnestly upon the ailing girl, he requests that oil should
   be given him. After he had received and blessed this, he poured the
   powerful sacred liquid into the mouth of the girl, and immediately her
   voice returned to her. Then gradually, through contact with him, her
   limbs began, one by one, to recover life, till, at last, in the
   presence of the people, she arose with firm steps.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [31] The Latin word gratia here corresponds to the Greek charisma. St.
   Paul says much respecting the various charismata in 1 Cor. xii., and
   speaks, among others, of charismata iamaton (v. 9).

   [32] The name Treveri at first denoted the people (as often in Caesar,
   Bell. Gall. i. 37, &c.), and was afterwards applied to their chief
   city, the modern Treves.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVII.

   Martin casts out Several Devils.

   At the same time the servant of one Tetradius, a man of proconsular
   rank, having been laid hold of by a demon, was tormented with the most
   miserable results. Martin, therefore, having been asked to lay his
   hands on him, ordered the servant to be brought to him; but the evil
   spirit could, in no way, be brought forth from the cell in which he
   was: he showed himself so fearful, with ferocious teeth, to those who
   attempted to draw near. Then Tetradius throws himself at the feet of
   the saintly man, imploring that he himself would go down to the house
   in which the possessed of the devil was kept. But Martin then declared
   that he could not visit the house of an unconverted heathen. For
   Tetradius, at that time, was still involved in the errors of
   heathenism. He, therefore, pledges his word that if the demon were
   driven out of the boy, he would become a Christian. Martin, then,
   laying his hand upon the boy, cast the evil spirit out of him. On
   seeing this, Tetradius believed in the Lord Jesus, and immediately
   became a catechumen, while, not long after, he was baptized; and he
   always regarded Martin with extraordinary affection, as having been the
   author of his salvation.

   About the same time, having entered the dwelling of a certain
   householder in the same town, he stopped short at the very threshold,
   and said, that he perceived a horrible demon in the courtyard of the
   house. When Martin ordered it to depart, it laid hold of a certain
   member of the family, who was staying in the inner part of the house;
   and the poor wretch began at once to rage with his teeth, and to
   lacerate whomsoever he met. The house was thrown into disorder; the
   family was in confusion; and the people present took to flight. Martin
   threw himself in the way of the frenzied creature, and first of all
   commanded him to stand still. But when he continued to gnash with his
   teeth, and, with gaping mouth, was threatening to bite, Martin inserted
   his fingers into his mouth, and said, "If you possess any power, devour
   these." But then, as if red-hot iron had entered his jaws, drawing his
   teeth far away he took care not to touch the fingers of the saintly
   man; and when he was compelled by punishments and tortures, to flee out
   of the possessed body, while he had no power of escaping by the mouth,
   he was cast out by means of a defluxion of the belly, leaving
   disgusting traces behind him.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XVIII.

   Martin performs Various Miracles.

   In the meanwhile, as a sudden report had troubled the city as to the
   movement and inroad of the barbarians, Martin orders a possessed person
   to be set before him, and commanded him to declare whether this message
   was true or not. Then he confessed that there were sixteen demons who
   had spread this report among the people, in order that by the fear thus
   excited, Martin might have to flee from the city, but that, in fact,
   nothing was less in the minds of the barbarians than to make any
   inroad. When the unclean spirit thus acknowledged these things in the
   midst of the church, the city was set free from the fear and tumult
   which had at the time been felt.

   At Paris, again, when Martin was entering the gate of the city, with
   large crowds attending him, he gave a kiss to a leper, of miserable
   appearance, while all shuddered at seeing him do so; and Martin blessed
   him, with the result that he was instantly cleansed from all his
   misery. On the following day, the man appearing in the church with a
   healthy skin, gave thanks for the soundness of body which he had
   recovered. This fact, too, ought not to be passed over in silence, that
   threads from Martin's garment, or such as had been plucked from the
   sackcloth which he wore, wrought frequent miracles upon those who were
   sick. For, by either being tied round the fingers or placed about the
   neck, they very often drove away diseases from the afflicted.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XIX.

   A Letter of Martin effects a Cure, with Other Miracles.

   Further, Arborius, an ex-prefect, and a man of a very holy and faithful
   character, while his daughter was in agony from the burning fever of a
   quartan ague, inserted in the bosom of the girl, at the very paroxysm
   of the heat, a letter of Martin which happened to have been brought to
   him, and immediately the fever was dispelled. This event had such an
   influence upon Arborius, that he at once consecrated the girl to God,
   and devoted her to perpetual virginity. Then, proceeding to Martin, he
   presented the girl to him, as an obvious living example of his power of
   working miracles, inasmuch as she had been cured by him though absent;
   and he would not suffer her to be consecrated by any other than Martin,
   through his placing upon her the dress characteristic of virginity.

   Paulinus, too, a man who was afterwards to furnish a striking example
   of the age, having begun to suffer grievously in one of his eyes, and
   when a pretty thick skin [33] having grown over it had already covered
   up its pupil, Martin touched his eye with a painter's brush, and, all
   pain being removed, thus restored it to its former soundness. He
   himself also, when, by a certain accident, he had fallen out of an
   upper room, and tumbling down a broken, uneven stair, had received many
   wounds, as he lay in his cell at the point of death, and was tortured
   with grievous sufferings, saw in the night an angel appear to him, who
   washed his wounds, and applied healing ointment to the bruised members
   of his body. As the effect of this, he found himself on the morrow
   restored to soundness of health, so that he was not thought to have
   suffered any harm. But because it would be tedious to go through
   everything of this kind, let these examples suffice, as a few out of a
   multitude; and let it be enough that we do not in striking cases [of
   miraculous interposition] detract from the truth, while, having so many
   to choose from, we avoid exciting weariness in the reader.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [33] "Nubes," lit. "a cloud."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XX.

   How Martin acted towards the Emperor Maximus.

   And here to insert some smaller matters among things so great (although
   such is the nature of our times in which all things have fallen into
   decay and corruption, it is almost a pre-eminent virtue for priestly
   firmness not to have yielded to royal flattery), when a number of
   bishops from various parts had assembled to the Emperor Maximus, a man
   of fierce character, and at that time elated with the victory he had
   won in the civil wars, and when the disgraceful flattery of all around
   the emperor was generally remarked, while the priestly dignity had,
   with degenerate submissiveness, taken a second place to the royal
   retinue, in Martin alone, apostolic authority continued to assert
   itself. For even if he had to make suit to the sovereign for some
   things, he commanded rather than entreated him; and although often
   invited, he kept away from his entertainments, saying that he could not
   take a place at the table of one who, out of two emperors, had deprived
   one of his kingdom, and the other of his life. At last, when Maximus
   maintained that he had not of his own accord assumed the sovereignty,
   but that he had simply defended by arms the necessary requirements [34]
   of the empire, regard to which had been imposed upon him by the
   soldiers, according to the Divine appointment, and that the favor of
   God did not seem wanting to him who, by an event seemingly so
   incredible, had secured the victory, adding to that the statement that
   none of his adversaries had been slain except in the open field of
   battle, at length, Martin, overcome either by his reasoning or his
   entreaties, came to the royal banquet. The king was wonderfully pleased
   because he had gained this point. Moreover, there were guests present
   who had been invited as if to a festival; men of the highest and most
   illustrious rank,--the prefect, who was also consul, named Evodius, one
   of the most righteous men that ever lived; two courtiers possessed of
   the greatest power, the brother and uncle of the king, while between
   these two, the presbyter of Martin had taken his place; but he himself
   occupied a seat which was set quite close to the king. About the middle
   of the banquet, according to custom, one of the servants presented a
   goblet to the king. He orders it rather to be given to the very holy
   bishop, expecting and hoping that he should then receive the cup from
   his right hand. But Martin, when he had drunk, handed the goblet to his
   own presbyter, as thinking no one worthier to drink next to himself,
   and holding that it would not be right for him to prefer either the
   king himself, or those who were next the king, to the presbyter. And
   the emperor, as well as all those who were then present, admired this
   conduct so much, that this very thing, by which they had been
   undervalued, gave them pleasure. The report then ran through the whole
   palace that Martin had done, at the king's dinner, what no bishop had
   dared to do at the banquets of the lowest judges. And Martin predicted
   to the same Maximus long before, that if he went into Italy to which he
   then desired to go, waging war, against the Emperor Valentinianus, it
   would come to pass that he should know he would [35] indeed be
   victorious in the first attack, but would perish a short time
   afterwards. And we have seen that this did in fact take place. For, on
   his first arrival Valentinianus had to betake himself to flight but
   recovering his strength about a year afterwards, Maximus was taken and
   slain by him within the walls of Aquileia.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [34] "Regni necessitatem"--an awkward expression.

   [35] There is considerable confusion in this sentence.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXI.

   Martin has to do both with Angels and Devils.

   It is also well known that angels were very often seen by him, so that
   they spoke in turns with him in set speech. As to the devil, Martin
   held him so visible and ever under the power of his eyes, that whether
   he kept himself in his proper form, or changed himself into different
   shapes of spiritual wickedness, he was perceived by Martin, under
   whatever guise he appeared. The devil knew well that he could not
   escape discovery, and therefore frequently heaped insults upon Martin,
   being unable to beguile him by trickery. On one occasion the devil,
   holding in his hand the bloody horn of an ox, rushed into Martin's cell
   with great noise, and holding out to him his bloody right hand, while
   at the same time he exulted in the crime he had committed, said:
   "Where, O Martin, is thy power? I have just slain one of your people."
   Then Martin assembled the brethren, and related to them what the devil
   had disclosed, while he ordered them carefully to search the several
   cells in order to discover who had been visited with this calamity.
   They report that no one of the monks was missing, but that one peasant,
   hired by them, had gone to the forest to bring home wood in his wagon.
   Upon hearing this, Martin instructs some of them to go and meet him. On
   their doing so, the man was found almost dead at no great distance from
   the monastery. Nevertheless, although just drawing his last breath, he
   made known to the brethren the cause of his wound and death. He said
   that, while he was drawing tighter the thongs which had got loose on
   the oxen yoked together, one of the oxen, throwing his head free, had
   wounded him with his horn in the groin. And not long after the man
   expired. You [36] see with what judgment of the Lord this power was
   given to the devil. This was a marvelous feature in Martin that not
   only on this occasion to which I have specially referred, but on many
   occasions of the same kind, in fact as often as such things occurred,
   he perceived them long beforehand, and [37] disclosed the things which
   had been revealed to him to the brethren.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [36] Halm reads the imperative "videris," "consider."

   [37] Halm reads "aut sibi nuntiata fratribus indicabat."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXII.

   Martin preaches Repentance even to the Devil.

   Now, the devil, while he tried to impose upon the holy man by a
   thousand injurious arts, often thrust himself upon him in a visible
   form, but in very various shapes. For sometimes he presented himself to
   his view changed into the person of Jupiter, often into that of Mercury
   and Minerva. Often, too, were heard words of reproach, in which the
   crowd of demons assailed Martin with scurrilous expressions. But
   knowing that all were false and groundless, he was not affected by the
   charges brought against him. Moreover, some of the brethren bore
   witness that they had heard a demon reproaching Martin in abusive
   terms, and asking why he had taken back, on their subsequent
   repentance, certain of the brethren who had, some time previously, lost
   their baptism by falling into various errors. The demon set forth the
   crimes of each of them; but they added that Martin, resisting the devil
   firmly, answered him, that by-past sins are cleansed away by the
   leading of a better life, and that through the mercy of God, those are
   to be absolved from their sins who have given up their evil ways. The
   devil saying in opposition to this that such guilty men as those
   referred to did not come within the pale of pardon, and that no mercy
   was extended by the Lord to those who had once fallen away, Martin is
   said to have cried out in words to the following effect: "If thou,
   thyself, wretched being, wouldst but desist from attacking mankind, and
   even, at this period, when the day of judgment is at hand, wouldst only
   repent of your deeds, I, with a true confidence in the Lord, would
   promise you the mercy of Christ." [38] O what a holy boldness with
   respect to the loving-kindness of the Lord, in which, although he could
   not assert authority, he nevertheless showed the feelings dwelling
   within him! And since our discourse has here sprung up concerning the
   devil and his devices, it does not seem away from the point, although
   the matter does not bear immediately upon Martin, to relate what took
   place; both because the virtues of Martin do, to some extent, appear in
   the transaction, and the incident, which was worthy of a miracle, will
   properly be put on record, with the view of furnishing a caution,
   should anything of a similar character subsequently occur.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [38] This is a truly noteworthy passage. It anticipates a well-known
   sentiment of Burns, the national bard of Scotland. In his Address to
   the Deil, Burns has said that if the great enemy would only "tak a
   thocht an' men'," he might still have a chance of safety, and this idea
   seems very much in accordance with the opinion of St. Martin as
   expressed above. Hornius, however, is very indignant on account of it,
   and exclaims: "Intolerabilis hic Martini error. Nec Sulpicius
   excusatione sua demit, sed auget. Origenes primus ejus erroris author."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIII.

   A Case of Diabolic Deception.

   There was a certain man, Clarus by name, a most noble youth, who
   afterwards became a presbyter, and who is now, through his happy
   departure from this world, numbered among the saints. He, leaving all
   others, betook himself to Martin, and in a short time became
   distinguished for the most exalted faith, and for all sorts of
   excellence. Now, it came to pass that, when he had erected an abode for
   himself not far from the monastery of the bishop, and many brethren
   were staying with him, a certain youth, Anatolius by name, having,
   under the profession of a monk, falsely assumed every appearance of
   humility and innocence, came to him, and lived for some time on the
   common store along with the rest. Then, as time went on, he began to
   affirm that angels were in the habit of talking with him. As no one
   gave any credit to his words, he urged a number of the brethren to
   believe by certain signs. At length he went to such a length as to
   declare that angels passed between him and God; and now he wished that
   he should be regarded as one of the prophets. Clarus, however, could by
   no means be induced to believe. He then began to threaten Clarus with
   the anger of God and present afflictions, because he did not believe
   one of the saints. At the last, he is related to have burst forth with
   the following declaration: "Behold, the Lord will this night give me a
   white robe out of heaven, clothed in which, I will dwell in the midst
   of you; and that will be to you a sign that I am the Power of God,
   inasmuch as I have been presented with the garment of God." Then truly
   the expectation of all was highly raised by this profession.
   Accordingly, about the middle of the night, it was seen, by the noise
   of people moving eagerly about, that the whole monastery in the place
   was excited. It might be seen, too, that the cell in which the young
   man referred to lived was glittering with numerous lights; and the
   whisperings of those moving about in it, as well as a kind of murmur of
   many voices, could be heard. Then, on silence being secured, the youth
   coming forth calls one of the brethren, Sabatius by name, to himself,
   and shows him the robe in which he had been clothed. He again, filled
   with amazement, gathers the rest together, and Clarus himself also runs
   up; and a light being obtained, they all carefully inspect the garment.
   Now, it was of the utmost softness, of marvelous brightness, and of
   glittering purple, and yet no one could discover what was its nature,
   or of what sort of fleece it had been formed. However, when it was more
   minutely examined by the eyes or fingers, it seemed nothing else than a
   garment. In the meantime, Clarus urges upon the brethren to be earnest
   in prayer, that the Lord would show them more clearly what it really
   was. Accordingly, the rest of the night was spent in singing hymns and
   psalms. But when day broke, Clarus wished to take the young man by the
   hand, and bring him to Martin, being well aware that he could not be
   deceived by any arts of the devil. Then, indeed, the miserable man
   began to resist and refuse, and affirmed that he had been forbidden to
   show himself to Martin. And when they compelled him to go against his
   will, the garment vanished from among the hands of those who were
   conducting him. Wherefore, who can doubt that this, too, was an
   illustration of the power of Martin, so that the devil could no longer
   dissemble or conceal his own deception, when it was to be submitted to
   the eyes of Martin?
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXIV.

   Martin is tempted by the Wiles of the Devil.

   It was found, again, that about the same time there was a young man in
   Spain, who, having by many signs obtained for himself authority among
   the people, was puffed up to such a pitch that he gave himself out as
   being Elias. And when multitudes had too readily believed this, he went
   on to say that he was actually Christ; and he succeeded so well even in
   this delusion that a certain bishop named Rufus worshiped him as being
   the Lord. For so doing, we have seen this bishop at a later date
   deprived of his office. Many of the brethren have also informed me that
   at the same time one arose in the East, who boasted that he was John.
   We may infer from this, since false prophets of such a kind have
   appeared, that the coming of Antichrist is at hand; for he is already
   practicing in these persons the mystery of iniquity. And truly I think
   this point should not be passed over, with what arts the devil about
   this very time tempted Martin. For, on a certain day, prayer [39]
   having been previously offered, and the fiend himself being surrounded
   by a purple light, in order that he might the more easily deceive
   people by the brilliance of the splendor assumed, clothed also in a
   royal robe, and with a crown of precious stones and gold encircling his
   head, his shoes too being inlaid with gold, while he presented a
   tranquil countenance, and a generally rejoicing aspect, so that no such
   thought as that he was the devil might be entertained--he stood by the
   side of Martin as he was praying in his cell. The saint being dazzled
   by his first appearance, both preserved a long and deep silence. This
   was first broken by the devil, who said: "Acknowledge, Martin, who it
   is that you behold. I am Christ; and being just about to descend to
   earth, I wished first to manifest myself to thee." When Martin kept
   silence on hearing these words, and gave no answer whatever, the devil
   dared to repeat his audacious declaration: "Martin, why do you hesitate
   to believe, when you see? I am Christ." Then Martin, the Spirit
   revealing the truth to him, that he might understand it was the devil,
   and not God, replied as follows: "The Lord Jesus did not predict that
   he would come clothed in purple, and with a glittering crown upon his
   head. I will not believe that Christ has come, unless he appears with
   that appearance and form in which he suffered, and openly displaying
   the marks of his wounds upon the cross." On hearing these words, the
   devil vanished like smoke, and filled the cell with such a disgusting
   smell, that he left unmistakable evidences of his real character. This
   event, as I have just related, took place in the way which I have
   stated, and my information regarding it was derived from the lips of
   Martin himself; therefore let no one regard it as fabulous. [40]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [39] "Prece" for the usual reading "prae se."

   [40] In spite of the combined testimony of Martin and Sulpitius here
   referred to, few will have any doubts as to the real character of the
   narrative.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXV.

   Intercourse of Sulpitius with Martin.

   For since I, having long heard accounts of his faith, life and virtues,
   burned with a desire of knowing him, I undertook what was to me a
   pleasant journey for the purpose of seeing him. At the same time,
   because already my mind was inflamed with the desire of writing his
   life, I obtained my information partly from himself, in so far as I
   could venture to question him, and partly from those who had lived with
   him, or well knew the facts of the case. And at this time it is
   scarcely credible with what humility and with what kindness he received
   me; while he cordially wished me joy, and rejoiced in the Lord that he
   had been held in such high estimation by me that I had undertaken a
   journey owing to my desire of seeing him. Unworthy me! (in fact, I
   hardly dare acknowledge it), that he should have deigned to admit me to
   fellowship with him! He went so far as in person to present me with
   water to wash my hands, and at eventide he himself washed my feet; nor
   had I sufficient courage to resist or oppose his doing so. In fact, I
   felt so overcome by the authority he unconsciously exerted, that I
   deemed it unlawful to do anything but acquiesce in his arrangements.
   His conversation with me was all directed to such points as the
   following: that the allurements of this world and secular burdens were
   to be abandoned in order that we might be free and unencumbered in
   following the Lord Jesus; and he pressed upon me as an admirable
   example in present circumstances the conduct of that distinguished man
   Paulinus, of whom I have made mention above. Martin declared of him
   that, by parting with his great possessions and following Christ, as he
   did, he showed himself almost the only one who in these times had fully
   obeyed the precepts of the Gospel. He insisted strongly that that was
   the man who should be made the object of our imitation, adding that the
   present age was fortunate in possessing such a model of faith and
   virtue. For Paulinus, being rich and having many possessions, by
   selling them all and giving them to the poor according to the expressed
   will of the Lord, had, he said, made possible by actual proof what
   appeared impossible of accomplishment. What power and dignity there
   were in Martin's words and conversation! How active he was, how
   practical, and how prompt and ready in solving questions connected with
   Scripture! And because I know that many are incredulous on this
   point,--for indeed I have met with persons who did not believe me when
   I related such things,--I call to witness Jesus, and our common hope as
   Christians, that I never heard from any other lips than those of Martin
   such exhibitions of knowledge and genius, or such specimens of good and
   pure speech. But yet, how insignificant is all such praise when
   compared with the virtues which he possessed! Still, it is remarkable
   that in a man who had no claim to be called learned, even this
   attribute [of high intelligence] was not wanting.
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVI.

   Words cannot describe the Excellences of Martin.

   But now my book must be brought to an end, and my discourse finished.
   This is not because all that was worthy of being said concerning Martin
   is now exhausted, but because I, just as sluggish poets grow less
   careful towards the end of their work, give over, being baffled by the
   immensity of the matter. For, although his outward deeds could in some
   sort of way be set forth in words, no language, I truly own, can ever
   be capable of describing his inner life and daily conduct, and his mind
   always bent upon the things of heaven. No one can adequately make known
   his perseverance and self-mastery in abstinence and fastings, or his
   power in watchings and prayers, along with the nights, as well as days,
   which were spent by him, while not a moment was separated from the
   service of God, either for indulging in ease, or engaging in business.
   But, in fact, he did not indulge either in food or sleep, except in so
   far as the necessities of nature required. I freely confess that, if,
   as the saying is, Homer himself were to ascend from the shades below,
   he could not do justice to this subject in words; to such an extent did
   all excellences surpass in Martin the possibility of being embodied in
   language. Never did a single hour or moment pass in which he was not
   either actually engaged in prayer; or, if it happened that he was
   occupied with something else, still he never let his mind loose from
   prayer. In truth, just as it is the custom of blacksmiths, in the midst
   of their work to beat their own anvil as a sort of relief to the
   laborer, so Martin even when he appeared to be doing something else,
   was still engaged in prayer. O truly blessed man in whom there was no
   guile--judging no man, condemning no man, returning evil for evil to no
   man! He displayed indeed such marvelous patience in the endurance of
   injuries, that even when he was chief [41] priest, he allowed himself
   to be wronged by the lowest clerics with impunity; nor did he either
   remove them from the office on account of such conduct, or, as far as
   in him lay, repel them from a place in his affection.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [41] "Summus sacerdos": "that is," remarks Hornius, "bishop. They were
   also in those ages styled Popes (Papae). This is clear from Cyprian,
   Jerome, and others of a much later age."
     __________________________________________________________________

    Chapter XXVII.

   Wonderful Piety of Martin.

   No one ever saw him enraged, or excited, or lamenting, or laughing; he
   was always one and the same: displaying a kind of heavenly happiness in
   his countenance, he seemed to have passed the ordinary limits of human
   nature. Never was there any word on his lips but Christ, and never was
   there a feeling in his heart except piety, peace, and tender mercy.
   Frequently, too, he used to weep for the sins of those who showed
   themselves his revilers--those who, as he led his retired and tranquil
   life, slandered him with poisoned tongue and a viper's mouth. And truly
   we have had experience of some who were envious of his virtues and his
   life--who really hated in him what they did not see in themselves, and
   what they had not power to imitate. And--O wickedness worthy of deepest
   grief and groans!--some of his calumniators, although very few, some of
   his maligners, I say, were reported to be no others than bishops! Here,
   however, it is not necessary to name any one, although a good many of
   these people are still venting [42] their spleen against myself. I
   shall deem it sufficient that, if any one of them reads this account,
   and perceives that he is himself pointed at, he may have the grace to
   blush. But if, on the other hand, he shows anger, he will, by that very
   fact, own that he is among those spoken of, though all the time perhaps
   I have been thinking of some other person. I shall, however, by no
   means feel ashamed if any people of that sort include myself in their
   hatred along with such a man as Martin. I am quite persuaded of this,
   that the present little work will give pleasure to all truly good men.
   And I shall only say further that, if any one read this narrative in an
   unbelieving spirit, he himself will fall into sin. I am conscious to
   myself that I have been induced by belief in the facts, and by the love
   of Christ, to write these things; and that, in doing so, I have set
   forth what is well known, and recorded what is true; and, as I trust,
   that man will have a reward prepared by God, not who shall read these
   things, but who shall believe them. [43]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [42] Lit. "are barking round about."

   [43] It seems extremely difficult (to recur to the point once more),
   after reading this account of St. Martin by Sulpitius, to form any
   certain conclusion regarding it. The writer so frequently and solemnly
   assures us of his good faith, and there is such a verisimilitude about
   the style, that it appears impossible to accept the theory of willful
   deception on the part of the writer. And then, he was so intimately
   acquainted with the subject of his narrative, that he could hardly have
   accepted fictions for facts, or failed in his estimate of the friend he
   so much admired and loved. Altogether, this Life of St. Martin seems to
   bring before us one of the puzzles of history. The saint himself must
   evidently have been a very extraordinary man, to impress one of the
   talents and learning of Sulpitius so remarkably as he did; but it is
   extremely hard to say how far the miraculous narratives, which enter so
   largely into the account before us, were due to pure invention, or
   unconscious hallucination. Milner remarks (Church History, II. 193), "I
   should be ashamed, as well as think the labor ill spent, to recite the
   stories at length which Sulpitius gives us." See, on the other side,
   Cardinal Newman's Essays on Miracles, p. 127, 209, &c.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

The Letters of Sulpitius Severus.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  Letter I. To Eusebius.

   Against Some Envious Assailants of Martin.

   Yesterday a number of monks having come to me, it happened that amid
   endless fables, and much tiresome discourse, mention was made of the
   little work which I published concerning the life of that saintly man
   Martin, and I was most happy to hear that it was being eagerly and
   carefully read by multitudes. In the meantime, however, I was told that
   a certain person, under the influence of an evil spirit, had asked why
   Martin, who was said to have raised the dead and to have rescued houses
   from the flames, had himself recently become subject to the power of
   fire, and thus been exposed to suffering of a dangerous character.
   Wretched man, whoever he is, that expressed himself thus! We recognize
   his perfidious talk in the words of the Jews of old, who reviled the
   Lord, when hanging upon the cross, in the following terms: "He saved
   others; himself he cannot save." [44] Truly it is clear that, whoever
   be the person referred to, if he had lived in those times, he would
   have been quite prepared to speak against the Lord in these terms,
   inasmuch as he blasphemes a saint of the Lord, after a like fashion.
   How then, I ask thee, whosoever thou art, how does the case stand? Was
   Martin really not possessed of power, and not a partaker of holiness,
   because he became exposed to danger from fire? O thou blessed man, and
   in all things like to the Apostles, even in the reproaches which are
   thus heaped upon thee! Assuredly those Gentiles are reported to have
   entertained the same sort of thought respecting Paul also, when the
   viper had bitten him, for they said, "This man must be a murderer,
   whom, although saved from the sea, the fates do not permit to live."
   [45] But he, shaking off the viper into the fire, suffered no harm.
   They, however, imagined that he would suddenly fall down, and speedily
   die; but when they saw that no harm befell him, changing their minds,
   they said that he was a God. But, O thou most miserable of men, you
   ought, even from that example to have yourself been convinced of your
   falsity; so that, if it had proved a stumbling-block to thee that
   Martin appeared touched by the flame of fire, you should, on the other
   hand, have ascribed his being merely touched to his merits and power,
   because, though surrounded by flames, he did not perish. For
   acknowledge, thou miserable man, acknowledge what you seem ignorant of,
   that almost all the saints have been more remarkable for [46] the
   dangers they encountered, than even for the virtues they displayed. I
   see, indeed, Peter strong in faith, walking over the waves of the sea,
   in opposition to the nature of things, and that he pressed the unstable
   waters with his footprints. But not on that account does the preacher
   of the Gentiles [47] seem to me a smaller man, whom the waves swallowed
   up; and, after three days [48] and three nights, the water restored him
   emerging from the deep. Nay, I am almost inclined to think that it was
   a greater thing to have lived in the deep, than to have walked along
   the depths of the sea. But, thou foolish man, you had not, as I
   suppose, read these things; or, having read them, had not understood
   them. For the blessed Evangelist would not have recorded in holy writ
   an incident of that kind--under divine guidance--(except that, from
   such cases, the human mind might be instructed as to the dangers
   connected with shipwrecks and serpents!) and, as the Apostle relates,
   who gloried in his nakedness, and hunger, and perils from robbers, all
   these things are indeed to be endured in common by holy men, but that
   it has always been the chief excellence of the righteous in enduring
   and conquering such things, while amid all their trials, being patient
   and ever unconquerable, they overcame them all the more courageously,
   the heavier was the burden which they had to bear. Hence this event
   which is ascribed to the infirmity of Martin is, in reality, full of
   dignity and glory, since indeed, being tried by a most dangerous
   calamity, he came forth a conqueror. But let no one wonder that the
   incident referred to was omitted by me in that treatise which I wrote
   concerning his life, since in that very work I openly acknowledged that
   I had not embraced all his acts; and that for the good reason that, if
   I had been minded to narrate them all, I must have presented an
   enormous volume to my readers. And indeed, his achievements were not of
   so limited a number that they could all be comprehended in a book.
   Nevertheless, I shall not leave this incident, about which a question
   has arisen, to remain in obscurity, but shall relate the whole affair
   as it occurred, lest I should appear perchance to have intentionally
   passed over that which might be put forward in calumniation of the
   saintly man.

   Martin having, about the middle of winter, come to a certain parish,
   [49] according to the usual custom for the bishops to visit the
   churches in the diocese, the clerics had prepared an abode for him in
   the private [50] part of the church, and had kindled a large fire
   beneath the floor which was decayed and very thin. [51] They also
   erected for him a couch consisting of a large amount of straw. Then,
   when Martin betook himself to rest, he was annoyed with the softness of
   the too luxurious bed, inasmuch as he had been accustomed to lie on the
   bare ground with only a piece of sackcloth stretched over him.
   Accordingly, influenced by the injury which had, as it were, been done
   him, he threw aside the whole of the straw. Now, it so happened that
   part of the straw which he had thus removed fell upon the stove. He
   himself, in the meantime, rested, as was his wont, upon the bare
   ground, tired out by his long journey. About midnight, the fire
   bursting up through the stove which, as I have said, was far from
   sound, laid hold of the dry straw. Martin, being wakened out of sleep
   by this unexpected occurrence, and being prevented by the pressing
   danger, but chiefly, as he afterwards related, by the snares and
   urgency of the devil, was longer than he ought to have been in having
   recourse to the aid of prayer. For, desiring to get outside, he
   struggled long and laboriously with the bolt by which he had secured
   the door. Ere long he perceived that he was surrounded by a fearful
   conflagration; and the fire had even laid hold of the garment with
   which he was clothed. At length recovering his habitual conviction that
   his safety lay not in flight, but in the Lord, and seizing the shield
   of faith and prayer, committing himself entirely to the Lord, he lay
   down in the midst of the flames. Then truly, the fire having been
   removed by divine interposition, he continued to pray amid a circle of
   flames that did him no harm. But the monks, who were before the door,
   hearing the sound of the crackling and struggling fire, broke open the
   barred door; and, the fire being extinguished, they brought forth
   Martin from the midst of the flames, all the time supposing that he
   must ere then have been burnt to ashes by a fire of so long
   continuance. Now, as the Lord is my witness, he himself related to me,
   and not without groans, confessed that he was in this matter beguiled
   by the arts of the devil; in that, when roused from sleep, he did not
   take the wise course of repelling the danger by means of faith and
   prayer. He also added that the flames raged around him all the time
   that, with a distempered mind, he strove to throw open the door. But he
   declared that as soon as he again sought assistance from the cross, and
   tried the weapons of prayer, the central flames gave way, and that he
   then felt them shedding a dewy refreshment over him, after having just
   experienced how cruelly they burned him. Considering all which, let
   every one who reads this letter understand that Martin was indeed tried
   by that danger, but passed through it with true acceptance. [52]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [44] St. Matt. xxvii. 42.

   [45] Acts xxviii. 4.

   [46] "magis insignes periculorum suorum": such is the construction of
   insignis with later writers.

   [47] This refers to St. Paul, being an echo of the Apostle's own words
   in Rom. xi. 13--ego ethnon apostolos.

   [48] The writer here supposes that St. Paul was sunk for three days and
   three nights in the sea--a mistaken inference from 2 Cor. xi. 25. The
   construction of the very long sentence which soon follows is very
   confused, and has not been rigidly followed in our translation.

   [49] "ad dioecesim quandam": it seems certain that diocesis has here
   the meaning of "parish."

   [50] "in secretario ecclesiae": it is very difficult to say what is
   here meant by "secretarium." It appears from Dial. II. 1, that there
   might be two or more secretaria in one church.

   [51] "pavimento": this word usually means "a floor," or "pavement," but
   some take it here to be the same as fornax. This, however, can hardly
   be the case; and the meaning probably is that the church was heated, as
   the baths were, by means of a hypocaustum, or flue running below the
   pavement.

   [52] Halm here inserts "vere."
     __________________________________________________________________

  Letter II. To the Deacon Aurelius.

   Sulpitius has a Vision of St. Martin.

   Sulpitius Severus to Aurelius the Deacon sendeth greeting,-- [53]

   After you had departed from me in the morning, I was sitting alone in
   my cell; and there occurred to me, as often happens, that hope of the
   future which I cherish, along with a weariness of the present world, a
   terror of judgment, a fear of punishment, and, as a consequence, indeed
   as the source from which the whole train of thought had flowed, a
   remembrance of my sins, which had rendered me worn and miserable. Then,
   after I had placed on my couch my limbs fatigued with the anguish of my
   mind, sleep crept upon me, as frequently happens from melancholy; and
   such sleep, as it is always somewhat light and uncertain in the morning
   hours, so it pervaded my members only in a hovering and doubtful
   manner. Thus it happens, what does not occur in a different kind of
   slumber, that one can feel he is dreaming while almost awake. In these
   circumstances, I seemed suddenly to see St. Martin appear to me in the
   character of a bishop, clothed in a white robe, with a countenance as
   of fire, with eyes like stars, and with purple hair. [54] He thus
   appeared to me with that aspect and form of body which I had known, so
   that I find it almost difficult to say what I mean--he could not be
   steadfastly beheld, though he could be clearly recognized. Well,
   directing a gentle smile towards me, he held out in his right hand the
   small treatise which I had written concerning his life. I, for my part,
   embraced his sacred knees, and begged for his blessing according to
   custom. Upon this, I felt his hand placed on my head with the sweetest
   touch, while, amid the solemn words of benediction, he repeated again
   and again the name of the cross so familiar to his lips. Ere long,
   while my eyes were earnestly fixed upon him, and when I could not
   satisfy myself with gazing upon his countenance, he was suddenly taken
   away from me and raised on high. At last, having passed through the
   vast expanse of the air, while my straining eyes followed him ascending
   in a rapidly moving cloud, he could no longer be seen by me gazing
   after him. And not long after, I saw the holy presbyter Clarus, a
   disciple of Martin's who had lately died, ascend in the same way as I
   had seen his master. I, impudently desiring to follow, while I aim at
   and strive after such lofty steps, suddenly wake up; and, being roused
   from sleep, I had begun to rejoice over the vision, when a boy, a
   servant in the family, enters to me with a countenance sadder than is
   usual with one who gives utterance to his grief in words. "What," I
   enquire of him, "do you wish to tell me with so melancholy an aspect?"
   "Two monks," he replied, "have just been here from Tours, and they have
   brought word that Martin is dead." I confess that I was cut to the
   heart; and bursting into tears, I wept most abundantly. Nay, even now,
   as I write these things to you, brother, my tears are flowing, and I
   find no consolation for my all but unbearable sorrow. And I should wish
   you, when this news reaches you, to be a partaker in my grief, as you
   were a sharer with me in his love. Come then, I beg of you, to me
   without delay, that we may mourn in common him whom in common we love.
   And yet I am well aware that such a man ought not to be mourned over,
   to whom, after his victory and triumph over the world, there has now at
   last been given the crown of righteousness. Nevertheless, I cannot so
   command myself as to keep from grieving. I have, no doubt, sent on
   before me one who will plead my cause in heaven, but I have, at the
   same time, lost my great source of consolation in this present life;
   yet if grief would yield to the influence of reason, I certainly ought
   to rejoice. For he is now mingling among the Apostles and Prophets, and
   (with all respect for the saints on high be it said) he is second to no
   one in that assembly of the righteous as I firmly hope, believe, and
   trust, being joined especially to those who washed their robes in the
   blood of the [55] Lamb. He now follows the Lamb as his guide, free from
   all spot of defilement. For although the character [56] of our times
   could not ensure him the honor of martyrdom, yet he will not remain
   destitute of the glory of a martyr, because both by vow and virtues he
   was alike able and willing to be a martyr. But if he had been
   permitted, in the times of Nero and of Decius, [57] to take part in the
   struggle which then went on, I take to witness the God of heaven and
   earth that he would freely have submitted [58] to the rack of torture,
   and readily surrendered himself to the flames: yea, worthy of being
   compared to the illustrious Hebrew youths, amid the circling flames,
   and though in the very midst of the furnace, he would have sung a hymn
   of the Lord. But if perchance it had pleased the persecutor to inflict
   upon him the punishment which Isaiah endured, he would never have shown
   himself inferior to the prophet, nor would have shrunk from having his
   members torn in pieces by saws and swords. And if impious fury had
   preferred to drive the blessed man over precipitous rocks or steep
   mountains, I maintain that, clinging [59] to the testimony of truth he
   would willingly have fallen. But if, after the example of the teacher
   of the Gentiles, [60] as indeed often happened, he had been included
   among other victims who were condemned [61] to die by the sword, he
   would have been foremost to urge on the executioner to his work that he
   might obtain the crown [62] of blood. And, in truth, far from shrinking
   from a confession of the Lord, in the face of all those penalties and
   punishments, which frequently prove too much for human infirmity, he
   would have stood so immovable as to have smiled with joy and gladness
   over the sufferings and torments he endured, whatever might have been
   the tortures inflicted upon him. But although he did in fact suffer
   none of these things, yet he fully attained to the honor of martyrdom
   without shedding his blood. For what agonies of human sufferings did he
   not endure in behalf of the hope of eternal life, in hunger, in
   watchings, in nakedness, in fastings, in reproachings of the malignant,
   in persecutions of the wicked, in care for the weak, in anxiety for
   those in danger? For who ever suffered but Martin suffered along with
   him? Who was made to stumble and he burnt not? Who perished, and he did
   not mourn deeply? Besides those daily struggles which he carried on
   against the various conflicts with human and spiritual wickedness,
   while invariably, as he was assailed with divers temptations, there
   prevailed in his case fortitude in conquering, patience in waiting, and
   placidity in enduring. O man, truly indescribable in piety, mercy,
   love, which daily grows cold even in holy men through the coldness of
   the world, but which in his case increased onwards to the end, and
   endured from day to day! I, for my part, had the happiness of enjoying
   this grace in him even in an eminent degree, for he loved me in a
   special manner, though I was far from meriting such affection. And, on
   the remembrance, yet again my tears burst forth, while groans issue
   from the bottom of my heart. In what man shall I for the future find
   such repose for my spirit as I did in him? and in whose love shall I
   enjoy like consolation? Wretched being that I am, sunk in affliction,
   can I ever, if life be spared me, cease to lament that I have survived
   Martin? Shall there in future be to me any pleasure in life, or any day
   or hour free from tears; or can I ever, my dearest brother, make
   mention of him to you without lamentation? And yet, in conversing with
   you, can I ever talk of any other subject than him? But why do I stir
   you up to tears and lamentations? So I now desire you to be comforted,
   although I am unable to console myself. He will not be absent from us;
   believe me, he will never, never forsake us, but will be present with
   us as we discourse regarding him, and will be near to us as we pray;
   and the happiness which he has even to-day deigned to bestow, even that
   of seeing him in his glory, he will frequently in future afford; and he
   will protect us, as he did but a little while ago, with his unceasing
   benediction. Then again, according to the arrangement of the vision, he
   showed that heaven was open to those following him, and taught us to
   what we ought to follow him; he instructed us to what objects our hope
   should be directed, and to what attainment our mind should be turned.
   Yet, my brother, what is to be done? For, as I am myself well aware, I
   shall never be able to climb that difficult ascent, and penetrate into
   those blessed regions. To such a degree does a miserable burden press
   me down; and while I cannot, through the load of sin which overwhelms
   me, secure an ascent to heaven, the cruel pressure rather sinks me in
   my misery to the place of despair. [63] Nevertheless, hope remains, one
   last and solitary hope, that, what I cannot obtain of myself, I may, at
   any rate, be thought worthy of, through the prayers of Martin in my
   behalf. But why, brother, should I longer occupy your time with a
   letter which has turned out so garrulous, and thus delay you from
   coming to me? At the same time, my page being now filled, can admit no
   more. This, however, was my object in prolonging my discourse to a
   somewhat undue extent, that, since this letter conveys to you a message
   of sorrow, it might also furnish you with consolation, through my sort
   of friendly conversation with you.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [53] This salutation is omitted by Halm.

   [54] "crine purpureo": it is impossible to tell the exact color which
   is intended.

   [55] Compare Rev. vii. 14.

   [56] As being peaceful, the imperial power having now passed into the
   hands of Christians.

   [57] Roman emperor, a.d. 249-251; his full name was C. Messius Quintus
   Trajanus Decius.

   [58] "equileum ascendisset": lit. "would have mounted the wooden
   horse," an instrument of torture.

   [59] Some read "perhibeo confisus testimonium veritati," and others
   "veritatis"; in either case, the construction is confused and
   irregular.

   [60] St. Paul is referred to: tradition bears that he was beheaded.

   [61] A late use of the verb deputare.

   [62] i.e. martyrdom, "palmam sanguinis."

   [63] "in tartara."
     __________________________________________________________________

  Letter III. To Bassula, His Mother-In-Law.

   How St. Martin passed from this Life to Life Eternal.

   Sulpitius Severus to Bassula, his venerable parent, sendeth greeting.

   If it were lawful that parents should be summoned to court by their
   children, clearly I might drag you with a righteous thong [64] before
   the tribunal of the praetor, on a charge of robbery and plunder. For
   why should I not complain of the injury which I have suffered at your
   hands? You have left me no little bit of writing at home, no book, not
   even a letter--to such a degree do you play the thief with all such
   things and publish them to the world. If I write anything in familiar
   style to a friend; if, as I amuse myself I dictate anything with the
   wish at the same time that it should be kept private, all such things
   seem to reach you almost before they have been written or spoken.
   Surely you have my secretaries [65] in your [66] debt, since through
   them any trifles I compose are made known to you. And yet I cannot be
   moved with anger against them if they really obey you, and have invaded
   my rights under the special influence of your generosity to them, and
   ever bear in mind that they belong to you rather than to me. Yes, thou
   alone art the culprit--thou alone art to blame--inasmuch as you both
   lay your snares for me, and cajole them with your trickery, so that
   without making any [67] selection, pieces written familiarly, or let
   out of hand without care, are sent to thee quite unelaborated and
   unpolished. For, to say nothing about other writings, I beg to ask how
   that letter could reach you so speedily, which I recently wrote to
   Aurelius the Deacon. For, as I was situated at Toulouse, [68] while you
   were dwelling at Treves, and were so far distant from your native land,
   owing to the anxiety felt on account of your son, what opportunity, I
   should like to know, did you avail yourself of, to get hold of that
   familiar [69] epistle? For I have received your letter in which you
   write that I ought in the same epistle in which I made mention of the
   death of our master, Martin, to have described the manner in which that
   saintly man left this world. As if, indeed, I had either given forth
   that epistle with the view of its being read by any other except him to
   whom it purported to be sent; or as if I were fated to undertake so
   great a work as that all things which should be known respecting Martin
   are to be made public through me particularly as the writer. Therefore,
   if you desire to learn anything concerning the end of the saintly
   bishop, you should direct your enquiries rather to those who were
   present when his death occurred. I for my part have resolved to write
   nothing to you lest you publish me [70] everywhere. Nevertheless if you
   pledge your word that you will read to no one what I send you, I shall
   satisfy your desire in a few words. Accordingly I shall communicate
   [71] to you the following particulars which are comprised within my own
   knowledge.

   I have to state, then, that Martin was aware of the period of his own
   death long before it occurred, and told the brethren that his departure
   from the body was at hand. In the meantime, a reason sprang up which
   led him to visit the church at Condate. [72] For, as the clerics of
   that church were at variance among themselves, Martin, wishing to
   restore peace, although he well knew that the end of his own days was
   at hand, yet he did not shrink from undertaking the journey, with such
   an object in view. He did, in fact, think that this would be an
   excellent crown to set upon his virtues, if he should leave behind him
   peace restored to a church. Thus, then, having set out with that very
   numerous and holy crowd of disciples who usually accompanied him, he
   perceives in a river a number of water-fowl busy in capturing fishes,
   and notices that a voracious appetite was urging them on to frequent
   seizures of their prey. "This," exclaimed he, "is a picture of how the
   demons act: they lie in wait for the unwary and capture them before
   they know it: they devour their victims when taken, and they can never
   be satisfied with what they have devoured." Then Martin, with a
   miraculous [73] power in his words, commands the birds to leave the
   pool in which they were swimming, and to betake themselves to dry and
   desert regions; using with respect to those birds that very same
   authority with which he had been accustomed to put demons to flight.
   Accordingly, gathering themselves together, all those birds formed a
   single body, and leaving the river, they made for the mountains and
   woods, to no small wonder of many who perceived such power in Martin
   that he could even rule the birds. Having then delayed some time in
   that village or church to which he had gone, and peace having been
   restored among the clerics, when he was now meditating a return to his
   monastery, he began suddenly to fail in bodily strength, and,
   assembling the brethren, he told them that he was on the point of
   dissolution. Then indeed, sorrow and grief took possession of all, and
   there was but one voice of them lamenting, and saying: "Why, dear
   father, will you leave us? Or to whom can you commit us in our
   desolation? Fierce wolves will speedily attack thy flock, and who, when
   the shepherd has been smitten, will save us [74] from their bites? We
   know, indeed, that you desire to be with Christ; but thy reward above
   is safe, and will not be diminished by being delayed; rather have pity
   upon us, whom you are leaving desolate." Then Martin, affected by these
   lamentations, as he was always, in truth, full [75] of compassion, is
   said to have burst into tears; and, turning to the Lord, he replied to
   those weeping round him only in the following words, "O Lord, if I am
   still necessary to thy people, I do not shrink from toil: thy will be
   done." Thus hovering as he did between [76] desire and love, he almost
   doubted which he preferred; for he neither wished to leave us, nor to
   be longer separated from Christ. However, he placed no weight upon his
   own wishes, nor reserved anything to his own will, but committed
   himself wholly to the will and power of the Lord. Do you not think you
   hear him speaking in the following few words which I repeat? "Terrible,
   indeed, Lord, is the struggle of bodily warfare, and surely it is now
   enough that I have continued the fight till now; but, if thou dost
   command me still to persevere in the same toil for the defense [77] of
   thy flock, I do not refuse, nor do I plead against such an appointment
   my declining years. Wholly given to thee, I will fulfill whatever
   duties thou dost assign me, and I will serve under thy standard as long
   as thou shalt prescribe. Yea, although release is sweet to an old man
   after lengthened toil, yet my mind is a conqueror over my years, and I
   have no desire [78] to yield to old age. But if now thou art merciful
   to my many years, good, O Lord, is thy will to me; and thou thyself
   wilt guard over those for whose safety I fear." O man, whom no language
   can describe, unconquered by toil, and unconquerable even by death, who
   didst show no personal preference for either alternative, and who didst
   neither fear to die nor refuse to live! Accordingly, though he was for
   some days under the influence of a strong fever, he nevertheless did
   not abandon the work of God. Continuing in supplications and watchings
   through whole nights, he compelled his worn-out limbs to do service to
   his spirit as he lay on his glorious [79] couch upon sackcloth and
   ashes. And when his disciples begged of him that at least he should
   allow some common straw to be placed beneath him, he replied: "It is
   not fitting that a Christian should die except among ashes; and I have
   sinned if I leave you a different example." However, with his hands and
   eyes steadfastly directed towards heaven, he never released his
   unconquerable spirit from prayer. And on being asked by the presbyters
   who had then gathered round him, to relieve his body a little by a
   change of side, he exclaimed: "Allow me, dear brother, to fix my looks
   rather on heaven than on earth, so that my spirit which is just about
   to depart on its own journey may be directed towards the Lord." Having
   spoken these words, he saw the devil standing close at hand, and
   exclaimed: "Why do you stand here, thou bloody monster? Thou shalt find
   nothing in me, thou deadly one: Abraham's bosom is about to receive
   me."

   As he uttered these words, his spirit fled; and those who were there
   present have testified to us that they saw his face as if it had been
   the face [80] of an angel. His limbs too appeared white as snow, so
   that people exclaimed, "Who would ever believe that man to be clothed
   in sackcloth, or who would imagine that he was enveloped with ashes?"
   For even then he presented such an appearance, as if he had been
   manifested in the glory of the future resurrection, and with the nature
   of a body which had been changed. But it is hardly credible what a
   multitude of human beings assembled at the performance of his funeral
   rites: the whole city poured forth to meet his body; all the
   inhabitants of the district and villages, along with many also from the
   neighboring cities, attended. O how great was the grief of all! how
   deep the lamentations in particular of the sorrowing monks! They are
   said to have assembled on that day almost to the number of two
   thousand,--a special glory of Martin,--through his example so numerous
   plants had sprung up for the service of the Lord. Undoubtedly the
   shepherd was then driving his own flocks before him--the pale crowds of
   that saintly multitude--bands arrayed in cloaks, either old men whose
   life-labor was finished, or young soldiers who had just taken the oath
   of allegiance to Christ. Then, too, there was the choir of virgins,
   abstaining out of modesty from weeping; and with what holy joy did they
   conceal the fact of their affliction! No doubt faith would prevent the
   shedding of tears, yet affection forced out groans. For there was as
   sacred an exultation over the glory to which he had attained, as there
   was a pious sorrow on account of his death. One would have been
   inclined to pardon those who wept, as well as to congratulate those who
   rejoiced, while each single person preferred that he himself should
   grieve, but that another should rejoice. Thus then this multitude,
   singing hymns of heaven, attended the body of the sainted man onwards
   to the place of sepulture. Let there be compared with this spectacle, I
   will not say the worldly [81] pomp of a funeral, but even of a triumph;
   and what can be reckoned similar to the obsequies of Martin? Let your
   worldly great men lead before their chariots captives with their hands
   bound behind their backs. Those accompanied the body of Martin who,
   under his guidance, had overcome the world. Let madness honor these
   earthly warriors with the united praises of nations. Martin is praised
   with the divine psalms, Martin is honored in heavenly hymns. Those
   worldly men, after their triumphs here are over, shall be thrust into
   cruel Tartarus, while Martin is joyfully received into the bosom of
   Abraham. Martin, poor and insignificant on earth, has a rich entrance
   granted him into heaven. From that blessed region, as I trust, he looks
   upon me, as my guardian, while I am writing these things, and upon you
   while you read them. [82]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [64] Instead of "justo loro," Halm reads, "justo delore," i.e. "with
   just resentment."

   [65] "notarios": shorthand writers, who wrote from dictation.

   [66] Halm here reads "obarratos," with what sense I know not: the
   reading "obaeratos," followed in the text seems to yield a very good
   meaning.

   [67] The reading "sine dilectu ullo," adopted by Halm, seems preferable
   to the old reading, "sine delicto ullo."

   [68] The identity of Tolosa, mentioned in the text with the modern
   Toulouse, is uncertain.

   [69] Of course, this is all jocular, and shows the best relations as
   existing between Sulpitius and his mother-in-law.

   [70] There is clearly some affectation in the horror which Sulpitius
   expresses in this and other passages at the thought of his writings
   being published. It is obvious that he derived gratification from the
   fact of their being widely read.

   [71] "praestabo his participem": the construction is peculiar, but the
   meaning is obvious.

   [72] There were several towns of this name in Gaul. The one probably
   here referred to was on the road fro