Life of Martin & Chronicle 3

Preface (1) Severus to Desiderius, his most beloved brother. For my part, brother of one mind with me, I had resolved to keep under wraps in its draft the little book I had written about the life of holy Martin, and to confine it within the walls of home; for, being by nature most timid, I shrank from human judgements, lest — as I think will happen — my rather unpolished speech should displease my readers, and I should be judged most deserving of everyone's censure for having shamelessly seized upon a subject rightly to be reserved for eloquent writers. But I could not refuse you, who asked again and again. For what is there that I would not spend upon my love for you, even at the cost of my own modesty? (2) Yet I have published the little book to you with this confidence: that it will be made known by you to no one, because you have so promised.

But I fear that you may become its doorway, and that once let out it cannot be called back. (3) If this should happen, and you should see it read by some, you will ask of the readers this kindly indulgence: that they weigh the matter rather than the words, and bear it with an even mind if perhaps faulty speech has struck their ears; for the kingdom of God consists not in eloquence but in faith. (4) Let them also remember that salvation was preached to the world not by orators — although, had it been useful, the Lord could surely have provided that too — but by fishermen. (5) For when I first set my mind to writing, since I deemed it a sacrilege that the virtues of so great a man should lie hidden, I resolved within myself not to blush at solecisms:

for I had never attained any great knowledge of such matters, and if perhaps I once tasted something from these studies, I had lost it all through the disuse of so long a time. (6) But still, that so troublesome a defence may not await us, let the little book be published — if it seems good to you — with the name suppressed. And that this may be done, scrape the title from its face, so that the page may be mute, and may speak (which is enough) the subject, not speak the author. 1 (1) Most mortals, vainly given over to the zeal for worldly glory, have thereby sought, as they supposed, a perennial memory of their name, if they had illumined with their pen the lives of famous men.

(2) This pursuit assuredly brought not, indeed, a perennial fruit, yet some little fruit of the hope they had conceived, since they both propagated their own memory, though in vain, and by setting forth the examples of great men no small emulation was kindled in their readers. But still, this care of theirs had no bearing on that blessed and eternal life. (3) For what did the glory of their writings, doomed to perish with the world, profit them themselves? Or what advantage has posterity gained by reading of Hector fighting or Socrates philosophizing? For not only is it folly to imitate them, but it is madness not to assail them most fiercely — those who, reckoning human life only by present deeds, gave their hopes to fables and their souls to the grave:

(4) inasmuch as they believed they would be perpetuated only in the memory of men, whereas it is a man's duty to seek perennial life rather than perennial memory — not by writing or fighting or philosophizing, but by living piously, holily, and religiously. (5) This human error, handed down in letters, prevailed so far that it found many open imitators either of empty philosophy or of that foolish valour. (6) Hence I think I shall do something worth the effort, if I write out in full the life of a most holy man, soon to be an example to others; whereby the readers will surely be stirred up to true wisdom, to the heavenly warfare, and to divine virtue.

In this matter I also count our own profit thus: that we look for no empty memory from men, but an eternal reward from God; for even though we ourselves have not so lived as to be able to be an example to others, we have nevertheless taken pains that he should not lie hidden who is to be imitated. (7) Therefore I shall begin to write the life of holy Martin — how he conducted himself both before his episcopate and during it — although I have by no means been able to attain to all that pertains to him; so much so that the things in which he alone was conscious to himself are unknown, because, seeking no praise from men, he would, so far as in him lay, have had all his virtues lie hidden.

(8) Indeed, even of those things which were ascertained by us, we have passed over many, because we believed it enough if only the outstanding ones were noted; and at the same time the readers had to be considered, lest a mass of these things heaped together should breed weariness. (9) But I beseech those who shall read, that they put faith in what is said, and not suppose that I have written anything except what is ascertained and proven; otherwise I should have preferred to be silent rather than to tell falsehoods. 2 (1) So then, Martin was a native of Sabaria, a town of the Pannonias, but was reared within Italy at Ticinum, of parents who, according to worldly rank, were not of the lowest, yet were pagans. (2) His father was first a soldier, afterwards a military tribune.

He himself, in his youth, followed the profession of arms among the scholarian squadrons under King Constantius, and afterwards served under Julian Caesar — not, however, of his own will, for almost from his earliest years the sacred infancy of the illustrious boy breathed after the service of God rather. (3) For when he was ten years old, against the will of his parents he fled to the church and asked to be made a catechumen. (4) Soon, wonderfully turned wholly to the work of God, when he was twelve years old he longed for the desert, and he would have fulfilled his vows had not the weakness of his age stood in the way. Yet his mind, ever intent upon the monasteries or upon the church, meditated even in his boyhood that which he afterwards devoutly fulfilled.

(5) But when it had been decreed by the rulers that the sons of veterans should be enrolled for military service, his father betraying him — for he begrudged his son's happy course — when he was fifteen years old, he was seized and bound, and enmeshed in the military oaths, content with one servant only as his companion; yet, with the roles reversed, the master used to serve the servant, so much so that for the most part he himself would pull off his shoes and clean them, they would take their food together, yet it was Martin who more often waited at table. (6) For nearly three years before his baptism he remained in arms, yet untouched by those vices in which that class of men is wont to be entangled. (7) Great was his kindness toward his fellow soldiers, wondrous his charity, while his patience and humility were beyond human measure.

For there is no need to praise his frugality in him, which he so practised that already at that time he was thought to be not a soldier but a monk. For these things he had so bound all his fellow soldiers to himself that they venerated him with wondrous affection. (8) Not yet, however, regenerated in Christ, he was acting in some sort the part of a candidate for baptism by his good works — namely, helping those in toil, bringing aid to the wretched, feeding the needy, clothing the naked, keeping nothing for himself out of his military pay except his daily food: even then, no deaf hearer of the Gospel, he took no thought for the morrow.

3 (1) So at a certain time, when he now had nothing except his arms and a simple military cloak, in the midst of a winter that had bristled harsher than usual — so much so that the force of the cold was killing many — he met at the gate of the city of Amiens a poor man, naked: who, when he was begging the passers-by to take pity on him, and all were passing the wretch by, the man full of God understood that this man was reserved for him, since others were showing no mercy. (2) Yet what was he to do? He had nothing except the chlamys with which he was clad, for he had already spent the rest on a like work. So, seizing the sword with which he was girt, he divides it through the middle and gives one part of it to the poor man, and clothes himself again with the rest.

Meanwhile some of the bystanders began to laugh, because he seemed misshapen, mutilated in his garb; but many, whose mind was sounder, groaned more deeply that they had done nothing of the kind, when assuredly, having more, they could have clothed the poor man without their own nakedness. (3) On the night that followed, therefore, when he had given himself to sleep, he saw Christ clothed with the part of his cloak with which he had covered the poor man. He is bidden to gaze most carefully upon the Lord, and to recognize the garment which he had given. Soon, to the multitude of angels standing round, he hears Jesus saying with a clear voice: 'Martin, still a catechumen, has covered me with this garment.' (4) Truly mindful of his own words, the Lord, who had foretold beforehand:

'Inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me' — he professed that he himself had been clothed in the person of the poor man; and to confirm the testimony of so good a work, he deigned to show himself in the very garb which the poor man had received. (5) When he had seen this, the most blessed man was not lifted up into human glory, but, recognizing the goodness of God in his own work, when he was eighteen years old he hastened to baptism. Nor yet did he at once renounce the army, won over by the entreaties of his tribune, to whom he rendered the intimacy of a comrade; for he promised that, when the time of his tribunate was finished, he would renounce the world. Held in suspense by this expectation, Martin, for nearly two years after he had received baptism, served — though in name only.

4 (1) Meanwhile, as the barbarians were bursting into Gaul, Julian Caesar, gathering his army into one place, at the city of the Vangiones began to distribute a donative to the soldiers; and, as is the custom, they were summoned one by one, until it came to Martin. (2) Then indeed, thinking it an opportune time at which to seek his discharge — for he did not think it would be upright in him to accept the donative if he was not going to serve — he said to Caesar: 'Hitherto I have served you as a soldier: (3) suffer me now to be a soldier of God. Let him who is going to fight receive your donative; I am a soldier of Christ; I am not permitted to fight.' (4) Then indeed at this utterance the tyrant raged, saying that it was from fear of the battle which was to take place the next day, not for the sake of religion, that he was shirking military service.

(5) But Martin, undaunted — nay, all the more steadfast for the terror brought against him — said: 'If this is ascribed to cowardice and not to faith, tomorrow I will stand unarmed before the battle-line, and in the name of the Lord Jesus, protected by the sign of the cross, not by shield or helmet, I will safely pierce the wedges of the enemy.' (6) He is therefore ordered to be thrust back into custody, intending to make good his words by being exposed unarmed to the barbarians. (7) On the next day the enemy sent envoys to sue for peace, surrendering all their possessions and themselves. Hence who could doubt that this was truly the victory of the blessed man, to whom it was granted that he should not be sent unarmed into battle?

(8) And although the merciful Lord could have preserved his soldier even amid the swords and weapons of the enemy, nevertheless, lest the eyes of his saint be defiled even by the deaths of others, he exempted him from the necessity of battle. (9) For Christ owed to his own soldier no other victory than that, the enemy being subdued without bloodshed, no one should die. 5 (1) Thereupon, having left the army, he sought out holy Hilary, bishop of the city of Poitiers, whose faith in the things of God was then held to be approved and well known, and he stayed with him for some while. (2) But this same Hilary attempted, by imposing on him the office of the diaconate, to bind him more closely to himself and to fetter him with divine ministry.

But when Martin had most repeatedly resisted, crying out that he was unworthy, the man of loftier discernment understood that he could be constrained in one way only: if he were to lay upon him such an office in which there should seem to be some place of indignity. He therefore commanded him to be an exorcist. This ordination Martin did not refuse, lest he should seem to have despised it as too lowly. (3) And not long after, admonished in his sleep to visit, with religious solicitude, his homeland and his parents, whom paganism still held fast, he set out with the consent of holy Hilary, bound by him with many entreaties and tears to return. He entered upon that pilgrimage in sorrow, so they say, attesting to the brethren that he would suffer many adversities — which the outcome afterwards proved.

(4) And first, following byways amid the Alps, he fell among robbers. And when one of them, with axe raised, had aimed a blow at his head, another held back the right hand of the striker; nevertheless, with his hands bound behind his back, he is handed over to one to be guarded and despoiled. When this man had led him to a more remote spot, he began to inquire of him who he might be. (5) He answered that he was a Christian. The robber also asked him whether he was afraid. Then indeed most steadfastly he declares that he had never been so free of care, because he knew that the mercy of the Lord would be present chiefly in temptations; that he rather grieved for that man, who, as one carrying on brigandage, was unworthy of the mercy of Christ. (6) And entering upon an evangelic discourse, he preached the word of God to the robber. Why should I delay longer?

The robber believed, and escorting Martin restored him to his road, begging that he would pray to the Lord on his behalf. And that same man was afterwards seen leading a religious life, so much so that these things which we have related above are said to have been heard from his very self. 6 (1) So then Martin, having gone forward from there, when he had passed by Milan, the devil on the way, having assumed a human shape, presented himself to meet him, asking whither he was bound. And when he had received from Martin this answer, that he was making for wherever the Lord called, the devil said to him: (2) 'Wherever you go, or whatever you attempt, the devil will oppose you.' Then, answering him with a prophetic voice, he said: 'The Lord is my helper; I will not fear what man may do to me.' And at once the enemy vanished from his sight.

(3) And so, as he had conceived in heart and mind, he freed his mother from the error of paganism, his father persevering in his evils; yet by his example he saved many. (4) Thereafter, when the Arian heresy had sprouted throughout the whole world and chiefly within Illyricum, since he alone fought back almost most fiercely against the faithlessness of the priests and was afflicted with many punishments — for he was publicly beaten with rods and at the last compelled to leave the city — he made again for Italy; and when he found that within Gaul too the church had been thrown into disorder by the departure of holy Hilary, whom the violence of the heretics had driven into exile, he established for himself a monastery at Milan.

There too Auxentius, the author and chief of the Arians, most grievously persecuted him, and, having afflicted him with many injuries, drove him out of the city. (5) Judging therefore that he must yield to the time, he withdrew to the island which is called Gallinaria, with a certain presbyter as his companion, a man of great virtues. Here for some while he lived on the roots of herbs; at which time he took for food hellebore, a poisonous plant, so they say. (6) But when he had felt the force of the poison raging within him, with death now near at hand, he repelled the impending peril by prayer, and at once all the pain was put to flight. (7) And not long after, when he had learned that the power of returning had been granted to holy Hilary through the king's repentance, he attempted to meet him at Rome and set out for the city.

7 (1) Since Hilary had already passed by, he so followed in his tracks; and when he had been most graciously received by him, he placed for himself a monastery not far from the town. At which time a certain catechumen joined himself to him, desiring to be instructed in the disciplines of the most holy man; and after a few days had intervened, seized with sickness, he was labouring under the violence of fevers. (2) And then Martin had by chance departed; and when he had been absent for three days, on his return he found a lifeless body: so sudden had been the death that the man had passed out of human affairs without baptism. The body, laid out in the midst, was being attended by the sorrowful office of the mourning brethren, when Martin, weeping and wailing, came running up.

(3) Then indeed, conceiving the Holy Spirit with his whole mind, he bids the others go out of the little cell in which the body lay, and, the doors being bolted, he stretches himself out over the lifeless limbs of the dead brother. And when he had bent over prayer for some while and had felt, through the Spirit of the Lord, that power was present, raised up a little and fixed upon the face of the dead man, he undauntedly awaited the outcome of his prayer and of the Lord's mercy; and scarcely had the space of about two hours intervened when he sees the dead man little by little stirred in all his limbs, and, his eyes loosened to the use of seeing, twitch. (4) Then indeed, turning with a great voice to the Lord and giving thanks, he had filled the little cell with his cry; on hearing which, those who had stood before the doors at once rush in.

A wondrous spectacle, that they saw living him whom they had left dead! (5) Thus restored to life, he immediately obtained baptism and afterwards lived many years, and was the first among us to be either the matter or the testimony of Martin's powers. (6) The same man, however, was wont to relate that, stripped of his body, he had been led to the tribunal of the Judge and assigned to dark places and to the common throngs, and had received a gloomy sentence; that then it was suggested to the Judge by two angels that this was the man for whom Martin was praying; and so by the same angels he was ordered to be led back, and restored to Martin and to his former life. (7) From this time first the name of the blessed man shone forth, so that he who was already held holy by all might be held also powerful and truly apostolic.

8 (1) And not long after, while he was passing by the field of a certain Lupicinus, a man honoured according to the world, he is met with the outcry and lamentation of a crowd in mourning. (2) When he had anxiously stood by it and inquired what this weeping was, it is shown to him that one of the household, a little servant, had wrenched his life from himself with a noose. On learning this, he enters the little cell in which the body lay, and, all the crowds being shut out, lying upon the body he prayed for a while. (3) Soon, the countenance coming to life, with the eyes fixed upon his face the dead man is raised up; and striving with slow effort to rise, having grasped the right hand of the blessed man, he stood upon his feet; and thus he proceeded with him as far as the entrance hall of the house, the whole crowd looking on.

9 (1) About the same time he was being sought for the episcopate of the church of Tours; but since he could not easily be drawn out of his monastery, a certain Rusticius, one of the citizens, feigning the sickness of his wife, fell down at Martin's knees and obtained that he should come out. (2) So, with the throngs of citizens already arranged along the way, under a kind of guard he is led all the way to the city. In a wondrous manner an incredible multitude had gathered, not only from that town but also from the neighbouring cities, to cast their votes. (3) The will of all was one, the same their wishes and the same their judgement: that Martin was most worthy of the episcopate, that the church would be blessed with such a bishop.

Yet a few — and some among the bishops who had been summoned to appoint the prelate — impiously opposed it, saying, of course, that he was a contemptible person, that a man of despicable countenance, sordid in dress, deformed in his hair, was unworthy of the episcopate. (4) Thus this madness of theirs was mocked by the people of sounder judgement, who, while they desired to disparage the illustrious man, were proclaiming him. Nor indeed were they allowed to do otherwise than what the people, the Lord so willing, were resolving. Among the bishops who had been present, however, one Defensor in particular is said to have resisted; whence it was observed that he was then gravely noted by a reading from the prophets.

(5) For when by chance the lector, whose office it was to read on that day, had been kept out by the crowd and was absent, and the ministers were in confusion while the man who was not present was awaited, one of the bystanders, taking up the psalter, seized upon the first verse he found. (6) Now this was the psalm: 'Out of the mouth of infants and sucklings you have perfected praise because of your enemies, that you may destroy the enemy and the defender.' On this being read, a shout of the people is raised, the opposing party is confounded. (7) And thus it was held that by divine prompting this psalm had been read, so that the Defensor [the 'defender'] should hear the testimony of his own deed — he who, out of the mouth of infants and sucklings, when the Lord's praise was perfected in Martin, was alike shown forth and destroyed as the enemy.

10 (1) But now, having taken up the episcopate, what manner of man and how great he showed himself, it is not within our power to unfold. For he most steadfastly persevered the same that he had been before. (2) The same humility was in his heart, the same lowliness in his dress; and thus, full of authority and grace, he fulfilled the dignity of a bishop in such a way that he nevertheless did not forsake the purpose and virtue of a monk. (3) For some while, therefore, he used a cell adjoining the church; then, when he could not bear the disquiet of those frequenting him, he established for himself a monastery about two miles outside the city. (4) Which place was so secluded and remote that he did not long for the solitude of the desert.

For on one side it was hedged in by the sheer cliff of a high mountain, while the river Loire had closed off the remaining level ground with a slightly withdrawn bend; it could be approached by one only and that a very narrow path. He himself had a cell woven of timbers, and many of the brethren in the same manner; (5) most of them had made for themselves shelters in the hollowed rock of the overhanging mountain. There were about eighty disciples, who were being trained after the example of their blessed master. (6) No one there had anything of his own; all things were brought into the common stock. It was not permitted to buy or sell anything, as is the custom with most monks; no craft was practised there except that of the copyists, and even to that work the younger were assigned, while the elder were free for prayer.

(7) Rare was anyone's going out beyond his own cell, except when they assembled at the place of prayer. They all took their food together after the hour of fasting. No one knew wine, save him whom sickness had compelled. (8) Most were clad in camel's hair; a softer garb there was counted as a crime. This must needs be the more wondrous because many among them were reckoned as nobles, who, brought up far otherwise, had forced themselves to this humility and patience; and several of them we afterwards saw as bishops. (9) For what city or church would there be that did not desire for itself a bishop from Martin's monastery? 11 (1) But that I may approach the rest of his powers which he wrought in the episcopate:

there was, not far from the town, a place near to the monastery which the false opinion of men had consecrated, as though martyrs had been buried together there; (2) for an altar too was held to have been set up there by earlier bishops. But Martin, not rashly lending faith to uncertain things, demanded of those presbyters or clerics who were of greater age that the name of the martyr, the time of his passion, be shown to him; he was moved by a great scruple, that the steadfast memory of his elders had handed down to him nothing certain. (3) So when he had for some while kept away from that place — neither derogating from religion, because he was uncertain, nor lending his own authority to the common folk, lest superstition should gather strength — on a certain day, taking with him a few of the brethren, he goes to the place.

(4) Thereupon, standing over the very tomb, he prayed to the Lord that he would show who it was, or of what merit, that was buried there. Then, turning to the left, he sees standing near a shade, sordid and savage: he commands it to speak its name and its merit. It declares its name; it confesses concerning its crime: that it had been a robber, struck down for his wickednesses, celebrated by the error of the common folk; that it had nothing in common with the martyrs, since glory held them, but punishment held it. (5) In a wondrous manner those who were present heard the voice of the one speaking, yet did not see the person. Then Martin set forth what he had seen, and ordered the altar which had been there to be removed from that place, and so freed the people from the error of that superstition.

12 (1) Now it happened in the following time, while he was making a journey, that he met the body of a certain pagan, which was being carried to the tomb with a superstitious funeral; and, catching sight from afar of the crowd of those coming, ignorant of what it might be, he stood still a little while — for there was an interval of about five hundred paces, so that it was difficult to make out what he saw. (2) Yet because he discerned a rustic band, and the linen cloths spread over the body were fluttering as the wind drove them, he believed that profane rites of sacrifices were being performed; for it was the custom of the Gallic country-folk, in their wretched madness, to carry images of demons, covered with a white veil, round about their fields. (3) Having therefore raised the sign of the cross against them, he commands the crowd not to move from the spot and to set down their burden.

Here indeed you might in a wondrous manner have seen the wretches first stiffen as it were like stones. (4) Then, when with their utmost effort they were striving to move forward, being unable to advance further, they were whirled round in a ludicrous spinning, until, overcome, they set down the burden of the body; astonished and looking at one another in turn, they pondered in silence what could have befallen them. (5) But when the blessed man had ascertained that this was a gathering of funeral rites, not of sacred rites, raising his hand again he gives them the power of going away and of taking up the body. Thus he both compelled them to stand still when he wished, and permitted them to depart when it pleased him.

13 (1) Likewise, when in a certain village he had destroyed a most ancient temple and had set about cutting down a pine tree which was next to the shrine, then indeed the priest of that place and the rest of the throng of pagans began to oppose him. (2) And although these same men, while the temple was being overthrown, had kept quiet by the Lord's command, they would not suffer the tree to be cut down. He earnestly admonished them that there was nothing of religion in a tree-trunk; that they should rather follow the God whom he himself served; that that tree ought to be cut down, because it was dedicated to a demon. (3) Then one of them who was bolder than the rest said: 'If you have any confidence in your God whom you say you worship, we ourselves will cut down this tree; do you catch it as it falls:

and if your Lord is with you, as you say, you will escape.' (4) Then he, undauntedly trusting in the Lord, promises that he will do so. Hereupon to a condition of this sort the whole throng of pagans agreed, and they held the loss of their tree a light matter, if by its fall they might crush the enemy of their sacred rites. (5) And so, since that pine was leaning to one side, so that there was no doubt to which side it would topple when cut, he is bound and set in that spot at the pleasure of the rustics, where no one doubted the tree would fall. (6) They therefore began to cut down their own pine with huge joy and gladness. There stood at a distance a crowd of those who marvelled. And now little by little the pine began to nod and to mimic its own ruin as it was about to fall.

(7) The monks grew pale at a distance, and, terrified by the danger now drawing nearer, had lost all hope and confidence, awaiting nothing but Martin's death. (8) But he, trusting in the Lord, waited fearlessly; and when the falling pine had already given out the crash of its fall, when it was already toppling, already rushing down upon him, he raised his hand against it and set the sign of salvation in its path. Then indeed - you would have thought it driven back as if by a whirlwind - it crashed down in the opposite direction, so that it almost flattened the rustics who had taken their stand all about the place. (9) Then truly, with a shout raised to heaven, the heathen were astounded at the miracle, the monks wept for joy, and the name of Christ was proclaimed together by all; and it was plainly established that on that day salvation had come to that region.

For there was scarcely anyone out of that vast multitude of heathen who, when the laying on of hands was desired, did not abandon the error of his impiety and believe in the Lord Jesus. And truly, before Martin's coming, very few - indeed almost none - in those regions had received the name of Christ; but it so prevailed there through his miracles and example that there is now no place there which is not filled either with very crowded churches or with monasteries. For wherever he had destroyed the pagan shrines, he at once built either churches or monasteries on the spot. 14 (1) Nor did he display lesser power in the same work at about the same time. For when he had set fire to a certain very ancient and renowned shrine, the wind drove balls of flame toward the nearest house, indeed one adjoining it.

(2) When Martin perceived this, he climbed the roof of the house at a swift run, setting himself in the way of the oncoming flames. Then indeed you might have seen, in a marvellous manner, the fire turned back against the force of the wind, so that there seemed to be a kind of contest of the elements struggling with one another. Thus, by Martin's power, the fire worked there only where it was bidden. (3) But in a village called Leprosum, when he likewise wished to overthrow a most opulent temple of superstitious religion, a multitude of heathen withstood him, so that he was driven off not without injury.

(4) And so he withdrew to a nearby place, and there for three days, clothed in sackcloth and ashes, always fasting and praying, he besought the Lord that, since human hands had not been able to overthrow that temple, the divine power might raze it. (5) Then suddenly two angels, with spears and shields, after the manner of the heavenly host, presented themselves to him, saying that they had been sent by the Lord to put the rustic multitude to flight and to bring protection to Martin, lest anyone should resist while the temple was being demolished; he should therefore return and devoutly carry out the work he had begun. (6) So, having gone back to the village, while the crowds of heathen looked on in silence, he razed the profane shrine to its foundations and reduced all the altars and idols to dust.

(7) When the rustics saw this, understanding that they had been stupefied and terrified by a divine nod so as not to resist the bishop, almost all of them believed in the Lord Jesus, openly crying out and confessing that the God of Martin was to be worshipped, while the idols were to be despised, since they could help neither themselves nor others. 15 (1) I shall also relate what was done in the district of the Aedui. There, while he was likewise overthrowing a temple, a maddened multitude of heathen rustics rushed upon him. And when one bolder than the rest attacked him with drawn sword, Martin threw back his cloak and offered his bare neck to the one about to strike. (2) The heathen did not hesitate to strike; but when he had raised his right hand high, he fell flat on his back, and, dismayed with divine fear, begged for pardon. (3) And not unlike this was the following.

When a certain man wished to strike him with a knife as he was destroying idols, in the very act of the blow the iron was knocked from his hands and vanished from sight. (4) But for the most part, when the rustics contradicted him, urging that he not destroy their shrines, he so softened the heathen minds by his holy preaching that, once the light of truth had been shown to them, they overthrew their own temples with their own hands. 16 (1) Indeed, the grace of healings was so powerful in him that scarcely any sick person came to him who did not immediately recover health; as will be clear even from the following example. (2) At Treves a certain girl was held by a dread sickness of paralysis, so that for a long time already she performed no bodily function for human use; dead in every part, she was scarcely quivering with a faint breath.

(3) Her sorrowing kinsfolk stood by, awaiting only her funeral, when suddenly it was announced that Martin had come to that city. When the girl's father learned of this, he ran, breathless, to plead on his daughter's behalf. (4) And it happened that Martin had already entered the church. There, while the people looked on and many other bishops were present, the old man, wailing, embraced his knees, saying: 'My daughter is dying of a wretched kind of sickness, and - what is crueller than death itself - she lives by breath alone, her flesh already dead before her. I beg you to go to her and bless her; for I am confident that through you she is to be restored to health.' (5) Confounded by these words, he was struck dumb and shrank back, saying that this was not within his own power:

that the old man was mistaken in his judgement; that he himself was not worthy that through him the Lord should show a sign of his power. The father, weeping more vehemently, persisted, and begged that he would visit the dying girl. (6) At last, compelled by the surrounding bishops to go, he went down to the girl's house. A huge crowd was waiting before the doors to see what the servant of God would do. (7) And first, prostrating himself on the ground, he prayed with those weapons that were his own in matters of this kind. Then, looking upon the sick girl, he asked that oil be given to him; and when he had blessed it, he poured the force of the holy liquid into the girl's mouth, and at once her voice was restored. (8) Then little by little, at his touch, her several limbs began to come to life, until, her steps now made firm, she rose up before the witnessing people.

17 (1) At the same time, a slave of a certain Taetradius, a man of proconsular rank, was seized by a demon and tormented with a grievous death. Martin therefore being asked to lay his hand upon him, ordered him to be brought to him; but the wicked spirit could in no way be brought out of the cell in which it was, so fiercely did it rage with rabid teeth against those who approached. (2) Then Taetradius cast himself at the feet of the blessed man, begging that he himself would go down to the house in which the demoniac was kept. But then Martin said that he could not enter the house of a profane and heathen man; (3) for Taetradius was at that time still entangled in the error of heathenism. He therefore pledged that, if the demon were driven out of the boy, he would become a Christian.

(4) So Martin, laying his hand on the boy, cast the unclean spirit out of him. Seeing this, Taetradius believed in the Lord Jesus; at once he became a catechumen, and not long after was baptized, and ever afterward he honoured Martin, the author of his salvation, with wondrous affection. (5) About the same time, having entered the house of a certain head of a household in the same town, he stopped on the very threshold, saying that he saw a horrible demon in the hall of the house. When he commanded it to depart and had seized the head of the household, who was lingering in the inner part of the dwelling, the wretched man began to rage with his teeth and to tear at whomever met him. The house was thrown into turmoil, the household alarmed, the people put to flight; Martin set himself before the raging man, and first commanded him to stand still.

(6) But when he gnashed with his teeth and, with gaping mouth, threatened to bite, Martin thrust his fingers into his mouth: 'If you have,' he said, 'any power, devour these.' (7) Then indeed, as if he had received red-hot iron into his throat, he drew his teeth far back and avoided touching the fingers of the blessed man; and when he was forced by pains and torments to flee from the body he possessed, yet was not permitted to come out through the mouth, he was cast out by a flux of the bowels, leaving foul traces behind. 18 (1) Meanwhile, when a sudden rumour of the movement and onset of the barbarians had thrown the city into turmoil, he ordered a demoniac to be brought before him and commanded him to declare whether this report was true.

(2) Then it confessed that ten demons had been with it, who had spread this rumour among the people, so that by this fear at least Martin might be driven out of that town; the barbarians were thinking of anything but an invasion. So when the unclean spirit confessed these things in the midst of the church, the city was freed from its present fear and disturbance. (3) But at Paris, while he was entering the gate of that city with great crowds going along with him, he kissed and blessed a leper of pitiable aspect, while all shuddered, and at once the man was cleansed of every evil. (4) The next day, coming to the church with gleaming skin, he gave thanks for the health he had received.

Nor should it be passed over that the fringes drawn from his garment and his sackcloth wrought frequent miracles upon the sick. (5) For, tied to the fingers or placed about the neck, they often put diseases to flight in the ailing. 19 (1) Now Arborius, a man of prefectorial rank and of a very holy and faithful disposition, when his daughter was being burned up with the gravest quartan fevers, inserted a letter of Martin's, which had by chance been delivered to him, into the girl's bosom at the very onset of the fever's heat, and at once the fever was put to flight. (2) This thing had such force with Arborius that he immediately vowed the girl to God and dedicated her to perpetual virginity;

and, having set out to Martin, he offered the girl to him as a present testimony of his powers - she who had been healed though he was absent - and he would not suffer her to be consecrated by anyone other than Martin, who imposed upon her the habit of virginity. (3) Paulinus, a man destined afterward to be of great example, when his eye had begun to ache grievously and a thickish cloud, drawn over it, had already covered the pupil, Martin touched the eye with a brush and restored to it its former health, all pain being removed.

(4) But he himself, when by some chance he had been thrown down from an upper room and, falling through the rough steps of a staircase, had been afflicted with many wounds, when he lay half-dead in his cell and was tortured with excessive pains, in the night an angel appeared to him to wash his wounds and to anoint with a healing salve the bruises of his battered body; and so the next day he was restored to health, so that he was thought never to have suffered any injury at all. (5) But it would take long to go through them one by one: let these few suffice out of very many, and let it be enough that we both do not withhold the truth in matters of excellence and avoid tedium in matters that are many.

20 (1) And, to insert lesser matters among such great ones - although, given the age of our times, in which all things are now depraved and corrupt, it is perhaps a chief distinction that priestly constancy did not yield to royal flattery - when several bishops from various parts of the world had assembled before the emperor Maximus, a man of fierce temper and elated by victory in civil wars, and a foul flattery toward the prince was noted in them all, and the priestly dignity had subjected itself with degenerate inconstancy to royal clientage, in Martin alone apostolic authority remained.

(2) For even if he had to petition the king on behalf of some, he commanded rather than asked; and though frequently invited, he abstained from the king's banquet, saying that he could not be a partaker of the table of one who had driven one emperor out of his realm and another out of his life. (3) At last, when Maximus declared that he had not taken the empire of his own will, but had defended by arms the necessity of rule imposed upon him by the soldiers at a divine nod, and that the will of God did not seem foreign to him, in whose possession victory had fallen by so incredible an outcome, none of his adversaries having perished except in battle - then at last, overcome whether by reason or by entreaties, Martin came to the banquet, the king rejoicing wondrously that he had obtained this.

(4) Now there were guests present, summoned as if to a festal day, the highest and most illustrious of men: the prefect, who was also consul, Euodius, than whom no one was ever more just; two counts endowed with the highest power, the brother and the uncle of the king; between these reclined Martin's presbyter, while Martin himself had taken his seat on a little stool placed beside the king. (5) About the middle of the banquet, as is the custom, an attendant offered the cup to the king. He ordered it rather to be given to the most holy bishop, expecting and earnestly desiring to receive the cup from his right hand.

(6) But when Martin had drunk, he handed the cup to his own presbyter, judging of course that no one was worthier to drink next after himself, and that it would not be right for him if he had preferred either the king himself or those who were nearest the king to his presbyter. (7) The emperor and all who were then present so admired this deed that the very thing in which they had been slighted pleased them. And it was bruited throughout the whole palace that Martin had done at the king's banquet what no bishop had done even at the banquets of the lowliest officials.

(8) And to this same Maximus he foretold, long beforehand, that if he should proceed to Italy, where he desired to go, making war on the emperor Valentinian, he should know that at the first onset he would indeed be victor, but a little while after would perish. (9) And this we saw come to pass exactly so. For at his first coming Valentinian was put to flight; then, after about a year, having regained his forces, he captured Maximus within the walls of Aquileia and slew him. 21 (1) Moreover, it is established that angels were very often seen by him, so that they conversed with him, exchanging words with one another:

but the devil he held so visible and subject to his eyes that, whether he kept himself in his proper substance or had transformed himself into the various shapes of spiritual wickedness, under whatever image he was seen by him. (2) And since the devil knew that he could not escape him, he frequently assailed him with abuse, because he could not deceive him by his snares. At a certain time, holding in his hand a bloody ox's horn, he burst into his cell with a great roar, and, showing his bloody right hand and rejoicing in a crime just committed, he said: 'Where, Martin, is your power? I have just now killed one of yours.' (3) Then Martin, calling the brethren together, reported what the devil had revealed:

he bade them go anxiously through the cells of each one, to find out who had been afflicted by this disaster. They reported that indeed none of the monks was missing, but that one hired rustic labourer had gone to the wood to bring back wood in a cart. He therefore ordered some to go to meet him; (4) and so, not far from the monastery, he was found already almost lifeless. Yet, drawing his last breath, he disclosed to the brethren the cause of his death and wound: namely, that while, having yoked his oxen, he was tightening the loosened straps too closely, an ox had tossed its head and driven its horn into his groin. And not long after he gave up his life. You see by what judgement of the Lord this power had been given to the devil.

(5) This was the marvellous thing in Martin: that not only this which we have related above, but many things of this kind, however often they happened, he foresaw long beforehand, or, when they were announced to him, he disclosed them to the brethren. 22 (1) But the devil frequently, while he tried by a thousand arts of harming to delude the holy man, thrust himself visibly upon him in the most various forms. For sometimes he presented himself transformed into the person of Jove, often of Mercury, often too into the countenances of Venus and Minerva; against whom Martin, ever undaunted, protected himself with the sign of the cross and the aid of prayer. (2) For the most part there were heard abusive cries, with which the throng of demons railed at him in insolent voices; but recognizing all to be false and empty, he was not moved by their reproaches.

(3) Some of the brethren even testified that they had heard a demon railing at Martin with insolent voices, demanding why he had received within the monastery, after their conversion, some of the brethren who had once lost their baptism through various errors, and setting forth the crimes of each one: (4) and that Martin, resisting the devil, had answered steadfastly that old offences are purged by the conversion of a better way of life, and that through the mercy of the Lord those who have ceased to sin are to be absolved of their sins. When the devil contended that there was no pardon for the guilty, and that no clemency could be granted by the Lord to those who had once fallen, then Martin is said to have cried out in these words:

(5) 'If you yourself, wretched one, would cease from your persecution of men, and would repent of your deeds even at this present time, when the day of judgement is at hand, I, truly trusting in the Lord Jesus Christ, would promise you mercy.' O how holy a presumption concerning the loving-kindness of the Lord, in which, even though he could not grant authority, he showed his affection! (6) And since a discourse has arisen about the devil and his arts, it does not seem out of place, although it lies somewhat outside, to relate what was done, both because there is in it a certain portion of Martin's powers, and because the matter, worthy of a miracle, will rightly be committed to memory, as an example of caution, should anything of the sort happen anywhere hereafter.

23 (1) A certain Clarus, a most noble young man, soon a presbyter, and now blessed in a happy departure, when, having left all things, he had betaken himself to Martin, shone forth in a short time to the highest summit of faith and of all virtues. (2) And so, when he had set up a dwelling for himself not far from the bishop's monastery, and many brethren were staying with him, a certain young man named Anatolius came to him, feigning, under the profession of a monk, all humility and innocence, and lived for some time in common with the rest. (3) Then, as time went on, he used to say that angels were wont to speak with him. When no one would give credence, he tried to constrain most to belief by certain signs.

At last he went so far as to proclaim that messengers ran to and fro between himself and God, and now he wished to be regarded as one of the prophets. (4) Clarus, however, could by no means be compelled to belief. The other began to threaten him with the wrath of the Lord and with present plagues, because he would not believe the holy one. (5) At last he is said to have burst out into these words: 'Behold, this night the Lord will give me from heaven a white robe, clothed in which I shall move among you; and that shall be a sign to you that the power of God is in me, who have been gifted with God's garment.' (6) Then indeed there was great expectation among all at this declaration. And so, about the middle of the night, by the noise of those stamping on the ground the whole monastery seemed to be shaken from its place:

and you might have seen the cell in which the same young man was shut up gleaming with frequent lights, and a noise of people running about in it and a murmur of many voices was heard. (7) Then, silence having fallen, he came out and called to himself one of the brethren (named Sabatius) and showed him the tunic in which he was clad. The other, astonished, called the rest together; Clarus himself also hastened up, and, a light being brought, they all carefully inspected the garment. Now it was of the utmost softness, of exceeding whiteness, of gleaming purple; yet of what kind or fleece it was could not be recognized: when handled with curious eyes or fingers, however, it seemed nothing other than a garment.

Meanwhile Clarus admonished the brethren to persist in prayer, that the Lord might show them more clearly what it was. (9) And so the rest of the night was spent in hymns and psalms. When day dawned, he wished to seize him by the right hand and drag him to Martin, well aware that he could not be deluded by the art of the devil. (10) Then indeed the wretched man began to struggle and to cry out, saying that it had been forbidden him to show himself to Martin. And when they compelled him to go against his will, the garment vanished between the hands of those dragging him. Hence who could doubt that this too was a power of Martin's: that the devil could not, when his phantasm was to be thrust before Martin's eyes, conceal or cover it any longer.

24 (1) It was observed, however, that at about the same time there was in Spain a young man who, when he had procured for himself authority by many signs, was so far carried away that he professed himself to be Elijah. (2) When most had rashly believed this, he added that he might say he was Christ; in which too he so deceived that a certain bishop named Rufus worshipped him as God - on account of which we afterward saw him cast down from his bishopric. (3) Several of the brethren also reported to us that at the same time there had arisen in the East a certain man who boasted that he was John; from which we may conjecture, since pseudo-prophets of this kind exist, that the coming of Antichrist is imminent, who already in these men works the mystery of iniquity.

(4) But it seems it should not be passed over with how great an art the devil tempted Martin in those same days. For on a certain day, prayer having been sent up beforehand, and himself surrounded with a purple light - that he might more easily delude by the brightness of the radiance he had assumed - clothed too in royal garb, crowned with a diadem of gems and gold, with shoes gilded with gold, with a serene countenance and a joyful face, so that he might be thought anything rather than the devil, he stood beside Martin as he was praying in his cell. (5) And when Martin had been dazed at the first sight of him, both for a long while kept a deep silence. Then the devil first: 'Acknowledge,' he said, 'Martin, whom you behold: I am Christ; about to descend to earth, I wished first to manifest myself to you.'

(6) When Martin kept silence at this and returned no reply at all, the devil dared to repeat the boldness of his profession: 'Martin, why do you hesitate to believe, when you see? I am Christ.' (7) Then he, the Spirit revealing it to him so that he understood it was the devil and not the Lord, said: 'The Lord Jesus did not foretell that he would come clad in purple and gleaming with a diadem; I will not believe that Christ has come unless in that habit and form in which he suffered, unless bearing before him the marks of the cross.' (8) At this word the other vanished at once like smoke and filled the cell with so great a stench that he left undoubted proofs that he had been the devil.

This therefore was done, as I have related above, and I learned it from Martin's own mouth, lest perhaps anyone should suppose it to be fabulous. 25 (1) For when once, having heard of his faith, life, and virtue, we burned with desire of him, we undertook a journey pleasing to us in order to see him; and at the same time, since my mind already burned to write his life, partly we inquired from himself, in so far as he could be questioned, and partly we learned from those who had been present or knew. (2) At which time it cannot be believed with what humility, with what kindness he received us, congratulating us greatly and rejoicing in the Lord that he was held in such esteem by us, who had undertaken a journey to seek him out.

(3) Wretched me - I scarcely dare to confess it - when he had deigned to admit me to his holy table, he himself offered water for our hands, and in the evening he himself washed our feet. Nor had I the firmness to resist or to go against it: so overwhelmed was I by his authority that I thought it would be a sin if I did not acquiesce. (4) But his discourse with us was of nothing other than that the enticements of the world and the burdens of the age must be left behind, that we might follow the Lord Jesus free and unencumbered; and he set before us, as the most outstanding example of our present times, that of the illustrious Paulinus, of whom we made mention above, who, having cast away the greatest wealth and followed Christ, had almost alone in these times fulfilled the precepts of the Gospel:

(5) he kept proclaiming that this man was to be followed, this man to be imitated; and that the present age was blessed by the proof of such great faith and virtue, since, according to the Lord's saying, a rich man who possessed much, by selling all and giving to the poor, had by his example made possible what was impossible in the doing. (6) Now indeed, in his words and conversation, how great was the gravity, how great the dignity! How keen, how effective he was, how ready and easy in resolving questions of the Scriptures! (7) And since I know that many are incredulous on this point - inasmuch as I have seen some not believe even when I myself related it - I call Jesus and our common hope to witness that I never heard from the mouth of anyone so much knowledge, so much goodness of genius, and such pure speech.

(8) And yet, among Martin's powers, how trifling is this praise! Except that it is marvellous that not even this grace was lacking to an unlettered man. 26 (1) But now the book demands an end, the discourse must be brought to a close - not that all the things which were to be said about Martin have failed, but because we, like sluggish poets careless at the end of their work, are overcome and sink beneath the mass of our material. (2) For although his deeds could somehow be set forth in words, his inner life and daily conversation and his soul ever intent on heaven - I truly profess - no speech will ever set forth.

That perseverance, namely, and self-control in abstinence and in fastings, that power in vigils and prayers, and the nights spent by him just like the days, no time empty of the work of God in which he indulged either in leisure or in business - nay, not even in food or in sleep, except in so far as the necessity of nature compelled - I shall truly confess: (3) not even if Homer himself, as they say, were to emerge from the lower world, could he set it forth; to such a degree are all things in Martin greater than that they can be grasped in words. Never did any hour or moment pass in which he did not either apply himself to prayer or persist in reading; although even while reading, or if perchance he was doing anything else, he never relaxed his soul from prayer.

(4) Indeed, just as it is the custom of blacksmiths, who while working strike their anvil by way of a certain relief of their labour, so Martin too, even while he seemed to be doing something else, was always praying. (5) O truly blessed man, in whom there was no guile: judging no one, condemning no one, repaying evil to no one for evil. For he had taken on so great a patience against all injuries that, although he was the highest priest, he was wronged even by the lowest clerics with impunity, nor on that account did he ever remove them from their place or, as far as in him lay, repel them from his love. 27 (1) No one ever saw him angry, no one saw him agitated, no one saw him grieving, no one saw him laughing:

he was ever one and the same, bearing on his face a certain heavenly joy, so that he seemed beyond the nature of man. (2) Never was there in his mouth anything but Christ, never in his heart anything but piety, peace, and mercy. For the most part he was even wont to weep over the sins of those who seemed to be his detractors, who carped at him - remote and quiet as he was - with venomous tongues and viperous mouths. (3) And truly we have found by experience some envious of his virtue and life, who hated in him what they did not see in themselves and what they were not able to imitate. And - O grievous and groan-worthy outrage! - his persecutors, though very few indeed, were reported to be none other than bishops.

(4) Nor indeed is it necessary that anyone be named, although many bark around even us ourselves: it will suffice that, if any of these shall have read these things and recognized himself, he should blush. For if he is angry, he will confess that it was said of himself, when perhaps we meant it of others. (5) And we do not shrink from this, that if any are of such a kind, they should hate us too along with such a man. (6) This I confidently trust: that this little work will be pleasing to all the saints. As for the rest, if anyone shall have read these things unbelievingly, he himself shall sin. (7) For my own part, I am conscious to myself that, impelled by faith in the matter and by love of Christ to write, I have set forth things manifest, have spoken things true; and he shall have, as I hope, a ready reward from God - not whoever shall have read, but whoever shall have believed.