Eighty brethren a just admiration had drawn thither, to the mirror of so great a virtue, so that thence a blessed imitation might take up the morals they had inspected. Nothing was special to anyone; all things were common to all: love took up its wealth from the common store. To none was the faculty of selling anything granted, lest the wicked hunger for tasted gold should grow. He forbids the practicing of a craft. One pursuit alone is allowed: that of writing, which may occupy the mind and eyes and hands, and hold all things at once in a single point—the gaze by sight, the heart by the senses, the right hand by orderly arrangement. Yet only the younger age is held by these tasks.
For to a mind now sufficiently mature, prayer is enough, so that he whose sense the elder resolve strengthens may be zealous for the cleanness of his heart and keep vigil to purge within the inner eye, lest, overspread by the cloud of a hidden sin, he be deprived of the light of Christ. To none was advancement easy: his own little cell held each one. Then alone was occasion given for joining the company, when the accustomed hour of praying had summoned all and a symphony, returning praise to God with the heart; or when, loosing their fasts with weary limbs, they sought again the common tables at a fixed time, so that they might divide the end of the day already spent—the flesh now subdued—and the labor to be watched through in the coming night, with the most sparing intervals of a modest supper.
Only to the infirm, with the rule relaxed, was it permitted to taste unmixed wine, that the smell of the wine sprinkled into their cups might sustain the wasting of an ailing body. For many the garment was woven of camel's bristles, which would touch the watchful limbs with light goads, shutting out faint slumber with its pricking of the flesh, lest soft fleeces should nourish a flabby body, and a wanton garment should flutter with thin covering—such as the abundance of a past life had been wont to provide. For prudent resolve had drawn many thither, illustrious from ancient blood, to such a life. Wherefore the more to be marveled at is it, that after silken couches and cushions, this garment and such harshness pleased those who had entered.
In short, marveling at the tokens of such great morals, the neighboring peoples and nearby walls sought from here, with eager zeal, holy rulers for themselves, so that the teaching of God, flowing from such a fountain, might scatter watering streams into the inner parts of the thirsty. But now the time is at hand to touch at least a slight part of so great a mass of mighty virtues. And although the disciples adorn the titles of right virtue, and it should be enough to demonstrate beforehand what the deed must be, yet from his own deeds I shall touch a very few, showing the greatest heraldings by brief signs. By chance there was nearby a tomb which the vain superstition of worshipers, deceived by a false martyrdom, had often consecrated, paying ever a frequented honor.
Indeed, the priests who had gone before had even dedicated a venerable altar there, so that the religion might remain more firmly established, strengthened by the added cult of sacred rites. But after Martin took up the reins imposed on him and received the holy governance of the people committed to him, at once he inquires the name and titles of the venerated martyr, and at what time and under what judge he had earned the garlands of so illustrious a palm. But when no history is open which could betray the truth, and all antiquity refuses to know this, he declines to believe such great things on doubtful words, nor is the fable of a lying mob enough for faith. Therefore it pleases him, in doubtful matters without the weight of a witness, that counsels be sought from the Lord, to whom times ever subject stand present, the ages run through.
He hastens to the tomb, accompanied by a few, that the miracles attested to those might make the faith for many. So when the touched mass of the adjoining sepulchre was reached, near the cold ashes, the flesh dissolved, his prayers returned to heaven: the footprints of the flesh are joined to the tomb, but the mind passes even the stars. Then, having prayed to the Lord with all the virtue of faith, that He might betray to the ignorant the merit and the name of the buried one—suddenly to the left he beholds a squalid shade, whose blackening appearance with mournful mouth would betray, and bear before it the most sorrowful fates of punished culprits, confused and conscious with trembling countenance. The voice too, rendered in the mournful words of one grieving, expressed frequent sighs with such complaints:
'Let the ancient error cease to add torment to shades that must be lamented, by rendering a title not its own, lest, for one for whom the punishment of his crime alone is enough, this burden grow doubled by the added honor. And would that the holy ones, to whom this homage is rendered as by right, might deign to sprinkle our perpetual fires with a slender drop, the unending conflagrations of the wretched. They, rejoicing, enjoy the perpetual light; us a horrible chaos has hemmed in with eternal gloom. Far from the merits of light is the confusion of night.' This voice came far and wide to the ears of many, but the sight was betrayed to Martin alone, whose lighter mind passed the weights of the frail flesh, transmitting the bodily mass by the light of the heart. At once, the altar removed, all vain superstition, the lying rite of sacred things, is driven off.
The mysteries, transferred, migrate to true worship. What, in the end, will the art infected with magic wiles or steeped in poisons be able to confer, comparable to these titles—weaving lying songs with composed words and probing stinking entrails with veins inspected, so that, through the sought silences of the Tartarean night, an insane demon may bellow with a deceitful murmur, assuming a feigned countenance beneath a thin image? Here surely a simple soul and the sole religion of one praying dissolved the chains of the infernal law, and although the joints were pressed by the mass of the sepulchre, yet for the present time the confession lived. Nor indeed is this the end of his titles, nor for even a brief time do the cut-off garlands of his virtues, interrupted, cease. For grace, an undivided companion, ever cleaves to the holy man, nor is it confined within a fixed bound of places.
It follows his advance, remains undivided with him as he remains; if there be cause for the journey, rejoicing it accompanies him as he goes. For while he quickly traverses the by-ways of the outstretched country, where wild Gaul lies spread out far in broad plains, while a heathen crowd follows a wretched corpse, and the cloths, trembling, are stirred by a light wind, with his gaze stretched far over the open plains, he thinks the funeral cortège to be the cult of an abominable demon, and that the wretches are bearing the rites of accursed sacred things, with the necks of the bacchanals bowed submissive to idolatrous figures. At once he lifts up the holy and venerable sign, and with the opposition of the cross blocks those quickly coming, halting their unsteady steps with the weight of the standard.
Then indeed one could see the wretches held by an imposed torpor, and their joints stiffened with sinews bound, their many efforts frustrated with their members entangled, their steps halted with foot rooted by an unmoving star, the throngs shut in by a commanded boundary, nor able to surmount the obstacles of the wall set before them, an immense barrier opposed on every side—until little by little, with a nearer view, the honor borne in the obsequies might lie open. Then again liberty was restored by the same standard and by the very sign. Thus by the command of the cross and at once by the virtue of faith, he had the right to bind the wandering and to loose the bound.
Reading these things hastily touched upon—since the abundance of his virtues urges me to attain things-to-be-praised by brief signs, lest a most cheap page with prolix words should delay minds hastening to such great miracles—I am received again by the weight of greater matters. Once, with its roof cast down, he had laid a sacrilegious temple low to the ground, crushing the idols with the beams broken through and pressing down the images with the whole ruins. To this place a neighboring pine, spread out, was opening its green branches, and aged, had woven its arms far and wide into a green wood on its leafy summit, and the dense grove of a single tree warded off all heat with its lattice of leaves: a perennial shade covered an unbroken mildness with a counterfeit spring.
This pine too he sets about to associate with the temple's ruins, desiring to roll up in a like grave whatever drew the hearts of the wretches into error. Then indeed the frenzied madness of the inflamed mob strives to rush quickly to the aid of the beloved wood and to hinder the godly vow with all its effort. Reason avails nothing for the insane, holy words nothing for the profane minds; no voice for the deaf, no light for the blind. It is cried out that one who cannot confer salvation on others cannot confer it on himself, that the lords of the timber cannot be helped by timber: that these things serve the nods of him who is willing to serve, subject to subjects—the same man choosing from the woods things to be burned, leaving things to be venerated. Against these things they cry out, wanting things far different, their hearts much soaked with idolatrous venom: 'Cease with prolix words to compel those refusing.
'If you approve of putting matters to the test, this proposal will rightly please you and will bring proof of faith: we ourselves will at once set about felling our pine without delay. If you bring true tokens of your faith, receive the falling tree and, rejoicing, run to meet the longed-for ruin, fearing nothing serious, since you trust in the Lord.' That harsh condition is approved, and the most righteous man does not refuse the unjust demand, trusting in the power of God, to whom it is an easy possibility — though present — to halt the ruin by a word. Without delay the bonds are fastened about his bound limbs, and now he who is to be crushed is set in that very place where the tree, bent forward, hung over its whole trunk; and now, with its branches inclined and swaying under the weight, it threatened with the mass of an all but certain ruin set beneath. With all their hearts they press on, their joys vying with their prayers. With ceaseless blows and frequent axes they press on.
The nearness of hope ministers courage and strength to the weary. Vengeance shuts out emotion, anger drives away grief. The monks grow pale and lifeless, and the greater peril lies in the faith confounded by so great a terror; until, by wounds gradually overcome, the tree bent forward gave its crash, and rushing with a single leap toward the holy man, the hastening prayers outran the swift fury, its limbs now broken in the near-touching whirlwind. He, with faith forbidding fear, his dread dispelled, awaiting the near ruin with steadfast heart — lest perfidy, seeing the pine swiftly turned, should recall it from its fall and deny the merit, while it supposed the outcome — but now, with the peril closer, he raises his right hand armed with the protection of the sign and sets the cross against it.
By this all the force is at once broken, and quickly recalled in a swift turning, the pine is borne in the opposite direction with a swift whirlwind upon the authors of the crime. Now those who had been exulting, in terror feared the ruin turned upon themselves: they who cautiously believed they had chosen a safe place for so great a spectacle, scarcely recovering their wits, behold the seats pierced through and shattered by the branches. A cry is lifted to heaven, and the astonished crowds re-echo, and voices are returned by the whole assembly: the monks attest their joys, the vanquished the miracles. Their tongue sounds 'Christ,' and ignorant and knowing alike with kindly mouth sing 'Christ': this part acknowledges favor, that part seeks faith. Thus a will harmoniously snatched up amid the discordant, with Christ joining them, when it earned the gift of faith, then persuaded them to believe.
For surely there was none at all in that throng who did not bear away the gifts of the hoped-for salvation, being added to the flocks of the Lord by the protection of the sign; and the places which had reeked, overgrown with foul shrines, mother Church soon covered with true temples. Thus you conquer your foes, Martin, thus you overwhelm them, thus the weighty sentence treads down the oppressed: a merciful victory made those harsh men brethren. Therefore the outcome whets his mind, and a happy victory continually nourishes the zeal for conquering the rebellious. For scarcely were the idols smoking in fallen flames, and the thin embers flying about with neighboring fire, when the most righteous hand, exulting amid frequent flames, renews the conflagrations of a like temple, taken up anew.
But while the whirlwind scatters the blazing vapors far and wide, and the fierce fire seethes up with frequent waves, belching forth a swift cloud of flames, the madness increasing its gathered fury at the neighboring destruction, with its whole force it seeks a dwelling not far removed, licking the neighboring rooftops with deadly flames. When the holy man, trembling, saw the peril pressing on, and the fires now mingled with the kindled beams, and that they had hedged in and enwrapped the dwelling with a whirlpool of flames, hastening with a swift leap he climbed the rooftops, where the densest globe of fire pressed the house with excessive blaze, and offered his limbs as a barrier against the oncoming flames.
But then indeed the flames, bent back by an opposing blast, return toward the wind; and although the storm presses on, the greater power of the command drives them and compels the maddened wind to yield at once to the fires turned back. Thus nature, oppressed, obeys the merits of the one commanding. The flames are not driven by the blasts, but the blasts by the flames; and the fire, following the commands, thus accomplished both, seizing for itself the decrees, leaving what was defended unharmed. Thus, the temple having been overthrown by righteous fires, he proceeds to the destruction of another, which by chance the once wealthy village of Leprosus worshiped with perverse mind.
But after the madness of the demented crowd recalled the attempted work, and the whirlwind of violent tumult set its whole fury against his undertakings, he sought again the trackless retreats of solitary places, and there pressed more vehemently with holy prayers, continuing his intent purpose of praying through three days and joining as many hours through nights kept in vigil.
Moreover, clad in a garment woven of haircloth, he pricked his worn limbs with its constant sharpness, so that the over-rough fabric chafed his thin skin, and the flesh, when touched, shrank from the protruding stings; bruising it, ground his fields rather on hard bones, prolonging the slow suns into long-delayed fasts, drenching his whole face with a river of tears, that the perpetual mercy of the Lord Christ, taking too great pity on the toil of his innocent servant, might grant the fulfillment of his vow and accomplish what was attempted, removing utterly the efforts of the adverse party. Meanwhile he beheld armed men standing near with angelic brightness, nor was the recognition slow to dawn:
The confidence of a familiar face was ready, and moreover by their words the cause of their coming is made known: that he should not tremble, nor fear violence, nor dread arms, recognizing present favor through such signs: whatever crowd might rise up in opposing tumult, the help of God was enough, who could at once destroy all the troops by the power of the Word: that they themselves both brought help and reported His commands. His spirit, therefore, made keener by the power inwardly received, believing these arms of the two sufficed for the war, gathers strength again for the work begun, and constancy, restored to his fearful heart, burst into the midst of the throngs. The temples are laid low, overthrown to their very foundations: the fallen images receive the whole mass, and the broken idols sink beneath the cast-down roofs.
The dust, mingled, enveloped all things together alike — beams, altars, statues, mortar, stones, metal. Nor indeed did anyone, advancing from so great a throng, prepare to go and oppose him. He remained undismayed, seeing the hearts of the trembling men overcome. The peoples await unmoved. The breasts of the menacers grew rigid, and their inward parts were stunned with astonished fibers. Their limbs do not unloose movement, their words no tumult: the limbs of the wretches grew stiff, their voice stuck in their throats, the hands of those attempting fell, and the cry of the gaping ones failed.
As the sea, which a whirlwind of violent tempest has stirred up, torn from its lowest depths, pressing upon the waves, dashes all the rocks with foaming spray and overpasses the opposing banks with hoarse murmur — the shattered masses beat against the hollow shores while the neighboring shallows mingle the whole deep — soon, when the blasts have grown silent, their motion laid aside, an immense plain of calm waters spreads out, the smooth marble-like surface sinks down, the wind laid aside, and the changed aspect of the unmoving element lies still, gently rocking the slight skiffs on the leveled flood: not otherwise the madness of the furious crowd grew silent, and laid aside its tempest and slackened its blasts, and only cried out this, subdued, in true words: that Martin's Lord is to be worshiped through the whole world at once, that He alone they knew to be God.
For if deaf idols could ever confer salvation on one who seeks it, they would bring it to themselves and would not bestow on anyone the gift of which they themselves are deprived: rather that he is the more destitute who, being needy, begs of one in want. Thus, the splendor of the true light being wholly received, this crowd too increased, given over to the holy camps. With his heart thus continually invigorated by such triumphs, he again desires wars: faith increased removes fear, hope of merit animates him, dread of peril gives way. For a like cause soon stirred up a like tumult, while frenzied rusticity hastened to come to the aid of overthrowing a temple, increasing its accustomed harshness with the immense mass of headlong fury. In short, madness so overwhelmed every sense that a certain man rushed up threatening with drawn sword, daring to brandish sacrilegious steel against him to wound.
And when the holy man, rejoicing, offered his bared neck with covering thrown back, that man, not at all relenting, rose in fury at the high-raised sword. He suspended his mad right hand higher aloft, lifting his whole body with a swift effort, stretching his hurrying steps in headlong exertion, that the blow, coming from higher, might fall more violently: when suddenly his inward parts grew stiff with tightened sinews, and the motion, consumed in the thin air, stuck fast, and his outstretched right hand held the steel suspended in vain, and the whole blow perished with his limbs grown numb, and his hand remained fixed, its effort mocked. Thus his limbs, all collapsing in a mass backward, fell forward to the ground in headlong ruin, and his bones, crushed, sounded buried beneath his battered limbs, and prostrate they lay upon a heap of stony earth.
Then at last groans were wrung from him and tears forced out, and, his threats laid aside, the most pitiable entreaty of one beseeching turned and returned to a salutary craving for pardon. 'Why, I ask, did you recall your greedy right hand from blood? Why do you spare him whom no one entreats? What holds back your blow, if your anger remains? You surely do not wish to forgive: why do you hold back the steel? See, the innocent neck lies bared to your wounds: why do you delay your desires, you who have the mind of one who strikes? Why, while the offense is intact, is vengeance deferred? You do it, even though your right hand fails, what you long to have done. If the will is not changed, the guilt remains: the sentence of the heart suffices for guilt.' Nor indeed did the astonished, trembling breasts of the people see the gifts of salvation preserved from this alone.
For soon, when a like frenzy brought a like death with drawn weapon, the edge of the iron, suddenly shaken off, deserted the striker with an empty blow, and the man, demented, sought his wrenched-away weapon with his right hand, and the deceived eyes saw all the vows of gathered fury vanish with the lost iron. Yet at times he was wont to persuade by salutary address, and to change fierce minds with words, and to soften hearts grown rigid with holy speech, illuminating the old night with the light of doctrine. Besides, it was easy for him to restore health to the infirm, step to the lame, and sight to the blind. For surely no one had the violence of so great a sickness overwhelmed but that he carried away the remedies of his vowed salvation, rejoicing to grow strong again when he had seen the holy man. This indeed may be made clear even by a present deed.
Once, within the walls of Trier, an unwed virgin had wasted away, consumed by a grievous paralytic disease, and her limbs, numb with every motion, were deprived of their offices. Now, the flesh as it were left behind, a faint breath was breathed in her chilling breast. Her trembling kinsfolk grew pale at the nearby death and bathed her parched limbs with a fount of tears, and grief had gathered the mournful train of attendance, the honor to be rendered to the funeral rites: when, amid the murmurs of the weeping, an excited messenger burst in with opened mouth, bearing word that Martin had come, to whom it was an easy possibility to grant the longed-for healing by holy prayers.
When this word came to the mournful ears of the father, he flew, breathless, and threw himself at the saint's knees, begging help, and sprinkled his footsteps with abundant weeping, and sobbing sighs broke off his voice, and his tears spoke more than his words from his entreaties. But the saint, on the contrary, mighty in modest piety, shared the feeling, yet denied the merit. He refused that there was any power in himself by which he might furnish aid, but in his heart he shared the grief. He shrank from display, yet wept over the calamity, and by avoiding it proved his merit. Thus he stands the loftier by his humble heart.
He contributes to praise what he takes away from honor. The father, seeing these things, presses on the more vehemently, until the holy importunity, moved by his constant and just request, joined with the prayers of the priests to those of the father, by gentle right compelled the reluctant one to visit the sorrowful inner chambers of the mourning parent. The peoples stand before the doors: the astonished, anxious breasts of the people await the impending miracles of Christ. When he, taking pity, saw the wasted limbs of the half-dead girl and her eyes languishing with consuming maladies, the skin clinging to her bones with body dried up, and the color of her flesh tainted by infused gall, and the murmur of her bound tongue utterly withdrawn, that she breathed but a little breath from her icy breast, and the threads of her veins perishing with broken pulse, their order cut off, seeking to leave her right hand:
He at once stretches himself prostrate to the ground with his whole body, demanding from the Lord the medicines of the Word, for whom it is enough to have commanded, and to overcome art by a nod. He felt God present. He calls for oil to be brought forth. A holy blessing approaches the proffered liquid. Then, rejoicing in the changed juice by the anointing, he touches each of her limbs one by one with the medicated chrism. The pious right hand, applied, drives out the old pain, and the happy gifts of salvation obtained, gradually infused at the physician's touch, return little by little. Thus, all the diseases of her limbs being put to flight on every side, restored strength succeeds in her invigorated body. Soon the girl rises strong, the people marveling, and steadying her firm steps by the divine gift, she gives praise to the Lord Christ through the holy altars.
After this work of power had filled the most renowned walls with an assembly, all came running eagerly, those whose minds a demon, or whose bodies a disease had overwhelmed, praying for a remedy for heart and limbs. These departed steady in step, those sound in mind. Yet especially of all the miracles which the grace of Christ deigned to work through His servant, the present cure of one slave stood out, whom a demon held captive by full right. In short, when the holy man, moved by the great entreaty of those asking, ordered the wretch to be led to the holy threshold, no one could bind the raging man. Thus, raving with savage mouth, he put all to flight, gnashing with his teeth: gore had covered his mangled body everywhere, and wounds bristled on his naked limbs.
Then the master, exceedingly exalted with illustrious honor, adorned with the fasces of a proconsul, forgetful of this dignity, is present and throws himself at the gracious knees, and prostrate clasps the feet with caressing arms, praying that, since neither force nor chains availed to drag the servant raving with maddened heart, he himself should approach the dwelling under which a perpetual guard had now for a long time kept the slave shut up. But the saint refused to tread the threshold of the profane place, nor would the righteous man enter beneath idolatrous beams, distinguishing the stench of the temple by the chrism of Christ. The other, however, clinging violently to the holy knees, pledged that he would be willing, his servant healed, to believe whatever the teaching of so great a master should hand down.
Then at last, moved by so just a voice of the one entreating, he brought his longed-for steps to the threshold that was to be saved, and the same medicine that he brought to the servant, he brought to the master entreating help so justly. Both give thanks: the one rejoicing in the faith received, the other in the mind recovered. And immediately after these miracles a new deed roused the astonished people to such great proclamations. For as he chanced to enter the threshold of the neighboring house, he cried out that at the very doors he beheld the hideous and dreadful shadow of a furious demon to behold. Without delay, the enemy, now betrayed, at once began to rage, seizing the cook, mingling the inner recesses of the house with tumult, gnashing with evil teeth, baring the threatening teeth of the captive mouth, exercising his inborn wrath with another's bites.
While the mingled madness of the demon shook the besieged body, so that the rage might rave with armed human mouth toward its own frenzies with another's teeth — the trembling fled, and no one dared to stand against and resist, and the examples sharpened the extreme fears. But the saint, trusting in the Lord, laughs at the straggling bands, and with a swift encounter offers himself in their way. Indeed, while the madness shook the trembling jaws, dashing together the wretched teeth with deadly murmur, and renewing frequent bites with nodding head, he steadfastly thrust his fingers into the gaping throat, halting the most savage rights of the adverse robber. The greedy jaws stuck fast, the wound deferred, the wicked fury of the open mouth grew rigid, suspended, the tongue beneath rejoiced at the salutary touch, and soft kisses pressed the inserted right hand.
Then, because no flight lay open from the obstructed mouth, being driven out by a flux of the bowels he left the emptied entrails, drawing only the stench from the body. Meanwhile, suddenly all the walls of the city are thrown into confusion with tumult. Wicked rumor brings word of barbarian movements, scattering countless fears through credulous hearts. Yet no reliable messenger of this rumor stood forth, so that the report, brought forward, might lie open with a manifest author. Therefore, when he saw conflagrations stirred up by such uncertain matters and the peoples held by uncertain terror, he commands that the demon, shut up in the captive body, should reveal whence the tale had scattered its strange report. Forthwith, driven by the word of the tormentor, he cried out that he confessed himself to be the cause, the crime, and the source of these evils: that he with his comrades had sown these lies with phantoms, to oppress the trembling people with dread.
Therefore this true confession of the lying robber absolved the sorrowful minds, the demon being tormented. But now, to unfold the deeds of so great a piety, neither will a barren mind suffice nor a worthless page. O truly a good thing close akin: ready compassion, a humble mind! He despises no one who loves all. For a wicked leprosy had covered a certain man with a horrid disease, infecting all his flesh with a covering of blotches, and scattering dense drops upon his corrupted body.
When the frequent loathing of the healthy marked him out, and a most unjust mind, ignorant of its own lot, despised in another's body the grievous diseases, the holy man, entering the gate with the crowd going before, such as had gathered in attendance upon so great a patron, thronged the thresholds of the walls with dense crowds, gives kisses to the wretch, joined with face and mouth, and, not fearing to soil his face by such a touch, he pressed the seals of peace with joined lips. The spirits of the others were astounded. But that man rejoiced, feeling in the touch the gifts of the divine gift, and that swift health was darting rapidly through his limbs, and a swift radiance was being scattered in his renewed flesh. O truly precious condescension of your peace and medicine, which ever flows from your holy mouth!
Whether you touch limbs with your lips or hearts with your words, your kisses will heal the sick and your words those needing to be taught. And would that a like mercy might touch our diseases, and that Martin, praying, might be willing to drive away the stains of the wretched heart from so holy a mouth. Then I believe I would be recalled to the joys of true peace, lifting my healed face to the holy mysteries, and after the squandered substance which my portion had given — my hope would hang upon the mouth of the merciful Lord, and, leaving behind the food of swine or the joys of the flesh, I would receive the sure seals of true faith. Indeed, even the mere touch, or the fringe of his garment, and the threads snatched eagerly from the torn fleece, had swift remedies in all cases.