A certain priest also recently related to us that, some years before, while he was still a layman, his daughter was vexed by a demon. Grieving and fleeing, he said to one of his friends: 'What shall I do, wretched man, since my daughter is vexed by a demon? It would have been better for me that she had never been born, or at least had died.' To him the other replied: 'Do not weep, but go, lead her to lord Caesarius, and offer her to him secretly, that he may cure her.' He then, doubting nothing, came to Arles, and going, met him, and threw himself at his feet with tears, saying: 'My lord, have mercy on wretched me; cure my daughter.' He, anxiously asking what she had, answered: 'A demon.' He said to him: 'Be quiet, and return to your house.
In the morning, when matins are said, return and bring with you that same girl, and her mother, and wait (that is, await), after matins are said, in the courtyard of Saint Stephen; and when you see it to be private, come to the cell and call.' He then did as he had commanded. And he himself, going out secretly and fixing his knees on the ground, prayed with the father and mother of the girl, and raising himself, signed her and dismissed her whole. Again, walking through the street of the city, he saw opposite in the forum a man who was driven by a demon. When he had noticed him opposite, keeping his hand under his little cloak, so that it might not be seen by his own people, he made the cross against him; who was at once released from the enemy's temptation.
For how holy and sweet it was, when day after day he ceaselessly pressed home the word of God — in season to the willing, out of season to the unwilling: when he had come late to rest, so that not even for a moment of that hour might he be idle from the divine Scriptures and from holy instruction, he would say to us: 'Tell me,' he would say, 'what did we dine on today? What sort of dishes did we have?' We, keeping silent, would sigh, because our understanding was being led thither, whither he was wont to provoke us — for he wished to speak of spiritual food; and therefore he would question us. He would say again: 'I know that if I am solicitous about what we dined on, you also retain even what you lunched on. But if we ask what was read at table, we do not remember.'
'Whence it is given to understand that that which we retain tasted sweet to us; but that which we do not retain not only afforded no savour to the palate of our heart, but perhaps even caused disgust.' And groaning he would say: 'O unhappy forgetfulness of good things, than which [for which; others: because] nothing is more unhappy!' And beginning from the beginning, he would repeat what had been read or expounded; and to us wretched ones with a prophetic voice and a groan he would say: 'Gather, gather the Lord's wheat; for I say to you, it will not be long that you may gather. See what I say. Gather, for you shall seek this time; truly, truly you shall seek these days and greatly long for them.'
Which, even if at that time our sloth received it perversely, yet now we prove to have come what he said. That prophetic word has been fulfilled in us: 'I will send you a famine in the land — a famine,' he says, 'not of bread and water, but of hearing the word of God.' Although the sermons which he composed are recited, yet that unceasing voice has ceased, which fulfilled that prophetic word: 'Cry aloud, cease not' — often saying this: 'The palate of anyone whatsoever, when it loathes the word of God, his soul is in a fever; when he comes to health, then he hungers and thirsts for that which, while he is sick, he rejects and neglects.' For that most sweet and most holy refrain — who could ever explain it in words! Thus, he says, Christ's servant would say to us:
'The meal,' he said, 'we have already dispatched as best we could.' By the bystanders and by his chamberlains it was urged upon him (on account of his weariness, since, exhausted, he could scarcely draw breath) that he should take some rest. He would answer, 'You speak well. But wait a little.' Then the chamberlains: 'Master, what are you saying? The table has waited long, you have wearied yourself much with speaking, and until now you have not fallen silent; take a little refreshment now.' With the utmost sweetness he would again reply, 'You speak well; but since we have dispatched the meal, I have done what I set out to do; no supper shall we take.' He who knows the secrets of the unknown is witness to what I say:
that when the Holy Spirit had begun to pour forth through him, He would so unfold the vices of all, and so smite them with the scourges of His instruction, and, anointing them with divine remedies, would recall them without any delay to health; like a spiritual and holy player upon the organ He touched the hearts of each one, so that as we went out from him we would echo somewhat within ourselves concerning what had been said, saying: 'For this let each one of us render thanks to Thee, O God, for I no longer hold on to the wrong done me, nor is my mind furious against that brother of mine; for surely the things Thy servant preaches are true, and I would rather suffer injury than have this holy man produced as a witness against me on the day of judgment.'
One would say the same concerning pride, another concerning envy, another, who had struggled with whatever vice, would speak likewise; and we all returned, sound in soul and relieved, to our beds, giving thanks to God. For what countenance, O good God, holy Fashioner, what face, what person could anyone ever describe? We indeed long for in thee, holy Father, the doctrine, the form, the countenance, the person, the knowledge, the sweetness which thou didst have from the Lord in a special way beyond other men. How holy was thy life, how pure and sweet thy affection! O Lord Jesus, how great were the things Thou gavest him—who can even conceive it, let alone set it forth in words!
For when he would go forth to bless the fonts, as those who saw it, and who hear the things I tell, are themselves fit witnesses—since they believe their own eyes—for who ever believed him to be an earthly man in that procession? O Lord God of heaven, I say confidently for the truth, that throughout those forty years in which he administered his office, whoever saw him going forth on that day, it was as though they had never seen him before: so always did he appear new in the eyes of all. His countenance shone together with his soul, because in very truth his life so grew with continual advances that he ever became better than himself. Not without cause did that appear outwardly which was borne within.
To this man, moreover, there were shown not only frequent visitations of various saints, but also—what is above all things—the Lord Jesus with all His disciples revealed Himself to him in a vision. This he did not boast of everywhere, nor was he puffed up in spirit, but he confessed it only to one person sufficiently faithful, under a pledge that he keep silence. Moreover, even two years before his passing, the whole preparation which he was to receive in heaven for all his works was shown to him in the spirit, and it was said to him: 'Rejoice in the Lord, for behold the things which thou shalt receive for thy service.'
And because there are still many great things enough, which for the sake of brevity we pass over, very many of those who together with us know of them will grieve—without doubt—that we have omitted so many things which surely they know along with us. We beg them to forgive us, for it is unseemly enough and burdensome either to presume to speak too long to learned ears, or, being mute when one cannot speak, to mutter on still further. God grant that we may reach the end sooner than we make an end in our souls of our love, of the nourishment, of the charity, of the preaching, of the wholly holy remembrance of our master and holy father Caesarius. Yet the few things which were done concerning his relics after his passing, even before these things were written, I shall relate.