XXXI.
NOV. 11. ST. MARTIN, BISHOP AND CONFESSOR.
[See also AEfric's Homilies, ed. Thorpe, ii, 498.]
There was a certain wise writer, called Sulpicius,
who desired to write the miracles and mighty deeds
which the great Martin mightily performed
in this world, and he therefore wrote concerning him
the things which he had learned, either from himself
or from other men, because the miracles,
which God wrought by him, were known to many;
and we take the English from the same account;
but we will write no more but his own miracles.
Martin, the great bishop, was born in the fortified town
called Sabaria, in the province of Pannonia,
and was brought up in Ticinum (Pavia) in the Italian land.
He came of heathen parents, but nevertheless noble,
of honourable kindred in worldly things;
his father was first a soldier and afterward a captain of soldiers,
and Martin was accustomed to weapons from childhood,
and followed war amongst the soldiers in training;
first under Constantine the noble emperor,
and again under Julian the wicked apostate;
nevertheless, not of his own will, because that from childhood he was rather
instigated by God to divine service
than to worldly warfare, even as he afterward shewed.
When he was ten winters old, he was anointed with chrism (as a catechumen)
against the will of his parents, and in wondrous measure
he was at once wholly turned to God's service;
and when he was twelve winters he desired (to retire) to the desert,
and he would likewise have accomplished it, if he had been old enough.
His mind was, nevertheless, ever pondering about monasteries
or about churches and God's ordinances;
he meditated in childhood that which he afterwards performed.
Then was the emperor's command that the sons of the soldiers
who were superannuated should be nominated
to the same military service in which their fathers had been,
and Martin was thereupon denounced by his father,
who was envious of his works, and he was bound
when he was fifteen winters old, being sent to war
with one of his slaves who was his comrade,
whom he himself served rather than he him;
and they ate together even as equals.
Three years he marched with the common soldiers
without weapons, ere he was baptized,
being unspotted, nevertheless, by worldly defilement
wherein mankind especially sin.
Towards his fellow-soldiers he had kindly feeling,
and great love, and modest patience,
and true humility above man's measure.
He had as great temperance in his food
as if he had been a monk rather than a soldier;
and for his noble qualities all his fellow-soldiers
reverenced him with a marvellous love.
He was not as yet baptized, but he fulfilled, nevertheless,
the deeds of baptism with perfect works,
so that he succoured the oppressed, and fed the poor,
and clothed the naked, and kept nothing for himself
of his military pay in his scrip,
save what he daily had for food,
even as the gospel saith: ' Take no thought for the morrow.'
II. On a certain occasion he was travelling forward through a town
called Amiens, in a bitter winter,
in such severe cold that some men died of it.
Then he met there a poor man, naked,
beseeching the riders that they would give him some clothing;
but they rode on, nor regarded his cry.
Then Martin perceived that he must help him,
since the others would not; nevertheless, he knew not
what to give to the naked man, because he himself
had naught but his clothes and his military garb,
since he had formerly spent his money in a similar work.
Then he drew his knife, and cut in two his cloak,
and gave the half part of it to the happy poor man,
and put the other half on his own back.
Then his comrades laughed at the cut cloak;
and some were sorry that they had not done something like it,
since they, without nakedness, might have helped him better.
In the same night he saw in a dream
Jesus clothed with the half-cloak
which he had given to the poor man, and bade him look
towards his Lord, and recognise the robe.
Therewith the holy Martin heard
Jesus call to His holy angels
with clear voice, who said to those who stood round Him:
' Martin, who is not yet baptised, clothed Me with this robe.'
Then he remembered His saying, which He said in His gospel;
' that which ye do in my name to one of these least,
that do ye to Myself '; and therefore He made known
Himself to Martin in a dream with the robe
which the poor man formerly received for His name.
The holy man, nevertheless, was not lifted up by the vision,
but recognised the goodness of God in his work.
And when he was eighteen years old, he was baptised in God,
but would not yet give up, for his dear captain's sake,
worldly fighting; but, at his entreaty, continued in it
fully two years, after he was baptised.
III. "Well then, there suddenly took place an invasion of Gaul
by a foreign nation. And Julian the emperor
gathered his army, and began to give
to each of his soldiers a royal donation,
even as was usual. Then Martin thought
that he might well request from the emperor
leave to depart from military service.
It seemed not profitable to him to receive the donation,
and afterwards not to go forth with the emperor to battle.
He said to the impious one: ' till now I have fought for thee;
suffer me henceforth to fight for God,
and let him who fights for thee receive thy gift.
I am God's champion; I must not fight.'
Then the emperor grew angry, and said that for cowardice,
because of the imminent battle, and not for piety, '
he would thus withdraw himself from fighting.
But Martin said fearlessly to the evil man:
' If thou countest this as cowardice, and not true faith,
now, tomorrow, I will Stand, in my Lord's name,
before the cohort, and I will march, without heed,
protected by the sign of the cross, and by no red shield,
nor with any helmet, through the host of this army.'
Then the impious man bade them seize the saint,
that he might be thrown, all weaponless, among the heathen.
On the next day the heathen so did
that they proffered peace, and themselves too, to the emperor
and put all their property at his disposal.
Lo! who can doubt that it was because of this believing man
that the victory was gained, since to him it was granted,
that he might not be cast, all weaponless, to the army?
Although, indeed, the beneficent Lord might easily
have preserved His champion safe and sound,
He prevented that battle, that Martin's eyes
might in no way be stained by other men's death.
What other victory could our Lord
have given for His champion's sake better than that,
that no man should die, but that they should come to peace?
IV. Then Martin quitted, as he had long ago intended,
worldly warfare and went to the holy man
Hilary, the bishop, in the town
which is called Poitiers, because he was experienced
in God's faith and in good doctrine,
and abode thereafter with the man some while.
Then the holy man desired to ordain him deacon,
but he frequently refused, saying that he was not worthy.
Then the bishop perceived that he might persuade him
if he offered him a lesser office, and offered him that he should be
ordained exorcist, as we call one who adjureth,
or one who commandeth devils that they should go out of possessed men.
And he then refused not the humble office,
but was so ordained by the holy bishop.
Then after some time he was admonished in a dream
that he ought to visit his native country and his home,
and father and mother who were wickedly heathen;
and he thereupon went by permission of the aforesaid bishop,
who earnestly besought him to come back again.
Then Martin journeyed to the distant land;
and when he came to the mountains, then met he with robbers,
and one of them straightway lifted up his ax,
wishing to slay him; but another forewarned him
so that he caught the helve and restrained the blow.
He was, nevertheless, bound with his hands behind his back,
and committed to one of them that he might plunder him.
Then this man began to question him whether he was afraid,
or what manner of man he was, or if he was a Christian.
Then Martin answered him boldly, and said
that he had never been so untroubled in all his life,
because he knew God's mercy
was at hand most especially in temptations;
and said that he sorrowed the rather for the other's error,
because he was unworthy of God's mercy.
Therewith he began to preach the gospel doctrine
so long a while to the robber till he believed in God,
and followed Martin, earnestly entreating him
that he would pray for him; and he thenceforward continued
in a pious life, and afterward made this known to us.
As he was coming to Milan he met a devil
in a human form, who asked Martin
whither he was journeying. Then the Saint said to him
that he was going whither the Lord had called him.
Then the demon said to him straightway in answer;
'whithersoever thou goest, or whatsoever thou beginnest,
the devil shall be thine adversary.' And the holy man said to him,
'the Lord is a succour to me; I fear not what man may do to me; '
and straightway the devil vanished from his sight.
Then Martin journeyed forward as he had intended,
and converted his mother to the worship of God
and to holy baptism, though his father would not
turn from error; and yet, by God's assistance,
Martin rightly directed many of the people.
Then sprang up over all the world the Arian heresy,
and Martin with faith strongly contended against it
until he was tortured with cruel torments,
and openly scourged and driven out of the city.
Then he went back again to the Italian land,
and reared for himself a monastery in Milan,
because the aforesaid Hilary was gone into exile
by reason of the same heresy which then erroneously sprang up;
but the heretics soon drave him thence,
and so he departed thence to an island
called Gallinaria, with a holy mass-priest
who had lived long in the desert on roots of vegetables.
Then Martin at that time partook in his food
of the poisonous herb which is called hellebore,
and the poison soon sorely tormented him
well nigh to death; but he took to his prayers,
and all the pain soon departed from him.
Then after a space when he had learned
that the holy Hilary was allowed to return home
from his exile, then he went to him,
and he received him again with reverence;
and Martin afterward built himself there a monastery
handy to the town which is called Poitiers.
V. Then came there a man who was a catechumen, and made friends with Martin,
and dwelt with him, desiring to receive his lore;
but after a few days he became suddenly sick
so that he soon died unbaptized,
and the holy Martin was not at home the while.
Then the brethren, being sorrowful, sat around the corpse;
and Martin came then very sad,
and bade them go out, and hasped the door,
and stretched himself straightway upon the dead,
beseeching his Lord that He would raise the dead man.
Then after some space he perceived in his mind
that God's power was at hand, and therewith he stood up
waiting undismayed the granting of his prayers.
Then after two hours the dead stirred
in all his limbs and began to look up;
whereupon Martin cried out, fervently thanking God.
And those who stood there outside stepped in instantly,
greatly amazed; because they saw him living
whom they had before left dead.
Then was he straightway baptized, and lived afterwards
for many years, and related to men
that he had been brought before the throne of the highest judge,
and there he was condemned to a dim place
where he dwelt joyless with worldly men
in torments for a while; and then it was made known
by two angels to the almighty judge
that he was the man for whom Martin had prayed,
and after that it was commanded that, by means of the same angels,
he should be brought to life again
and restored to Martin; and so it thus befell.
Then Martins fame sprang widely throughout the land,
so that he who was holy in works was believed to be an apostolic man.
VI. Again after some time the holy man was journeying
over a nobleman's land, called Lupicinus,
when he heard suddenly far off the cry
of a weeping multitude, and he stood still
enquiring anxiously what that wonder might be.
Then was it told him that some unlucky man
of the household had hung himself;
and thus hanging had destroyed himself.
Then Martin entered where the man lay dead,
and drave out all the multitude,
and stretched himself upon the soulless body
some time in prayers; and anon he revived
and with fervent zeal rose up,
and took Martin's right hand and stood beside him,
and stepped forth with him in sight of the people.
VII. At that same time the people of Tours
were desirous that Martin should be
consecrated as bishop of their city;
but Martin would go no whither out of the monastery
until one of his neighbours sought his feet,
saying that his wife lay grievously afflicted;
and with difficulty prevailed upon him to go out.
And the citizens watched when he came out,
and immediately seized him and led him to the city
called Tours, that he might be consecrated.
Then cried all the multitude and said unanimously
that Martin was worthy of the dignity,
and an auspicious priest for such an episcopal office.
There were other bishops (present) from various cities
at the election, and some of them objected
that Martin was not worthy of so great a dignity
on account of his mean raiment; and there in particular
one of the bishops called Defensor made objection;
but he was put to shame by a divine attestation;
for they had to read some lesson before him,
but the lector was shut out; then a certain priest caught up
a psalter hastily, and read before them
what he first found, which was this verse [Ps. viii. 2]; —
' Out of the mouth of the unspeaking and of sucklings Thou
hast perfected Thy praise, O Lord, because of Thine enemies; that
Thou mightest overthrow the enemy and the Defender.'
As soon as this verse was read before them,
the people were excited to utter a great shout,
that the attestation of God Himself had there been manifested,
and Defensor ought to acknowledge his slander,
and that God desired to perfect His praise
in the innocent Martin and to shame Defensor.
Then the holy man received episcopal consecration there,
and so kept the office, as is past telling,
with the same steadfastness in which he had before lived,
and with the same humility, and with his former (monastic) habit;
and he was so filled with piety
and with the dignity of his office that he, in his works, fulfilled
both the episcopal office with all honour
and preserved the monastic state amongst men.
He was just in judgement, and devout in preaching,
venerable in manners and vigilant in prayers,
constant in reading, steadfast in his look,
virtuous in desire, and reverent in his duties.
Oh! what benignity was in his sayings,
and what excellence was in his manners,
and how great gladness in spiritual works
dwelt in the Saint with lofty perfection!
Blessed was the man in whom dwelt no guile;
he condemned no man, neither did he repay to any
evil with evil; but meekly endured
the injuries of men with great patience.
No man ever saw him ever so little angry,
nor murmuring in mind nor evilly disposed,
but ever continuing in one steadfastness '
above man's measure with great gladness.
For some time he had a house close to the church;
then, after some space, for an example to the people
and because of the unstillness, he established for himself a monastery
two miles from the city; and the place was so secret
that he desired no other desert.
On one side of the monastery was an immense cliff
scarped right down, and the deep river
called Loire lay on the other side,
so that a man could not come to the monastery
except by a single path whereby he might ask for ingress.
Eighty monks dwelt in that monastery
under Martin's instruction, serving gloriously;
and all their things were in common between them,
and there no man had anything apart,
neither took they heed of buying, nor might they sell aught,
save only those things which provided for their subsistence;
nor might there any brother practise any craft
save to pray or to write books.
The elder brothers were at that time busied
in perpetual prayers, and the youthful wrote
and abode in silence, even as Martin appointed them.
They ate together at set times,
and they had no thought of wine save for the infirm men;
and many there had haircloth next to their body,
and there soft clothing was accounted as sin.
Nobly born men lived there in the monastery
who had been delicately nurtured, but they subjected themselves, nevertheless,
to the same austerity which was established there in the monastery,
and many of them we have seen afterward bishops.
Lo! what city was there that would not choose a bishop
from Martin's monastery, for sake of his glorious example?
VIII. There was at that time near the holy monastery
as it were a holy place, greatly venerated
by the common people, as if martyrs lay there;
and the former bishops had venerated the place
and had consecrated an altar there, though it was in error.
Martin did not believe the false delusion,
but enquired minutely of the oldest priests
the martyr's name, or when he was martyred;
but none of them knew anything certain about him.
So Martin would not visit the place
nor allow the people to do so; but went forth one day
with a few brethren and stood at the tomb,
praying the Almighty God that He would reveal concerning the man
what he had really been or of what merit,
he who was buried there and had been venerated until then.
Then the bishop looked on his left side,
and saw there standing a horrid shade,
who said that he had been slain for theft,
and abode in torment, not in glory with martyrs,
and that he was wrongfully venerated by the people.
It was wondrous, nevertheless, that all who were there
heard him clearly, but they saw him not
save Martin only, who told it to them all.
Then he bade forthwith remove the altar from the place,
and delivered the people from the false error.
IX. Again on a certain occasion Martin was travelling
in his diocese, when they bare there a corpse
of a heathen man, in order to bury him.
Then Martin beheld the heathen men from afar,
and supposed that they were superstitiously bearing,
even as their wont was, their idol throughout the land,
and he made the sign of the cross in the direction of the people,
and bade them, in God's name, carry it no further
but lay down the burthen, and the bearers at once
stood still in the place, as if they had been stiffened.
Then he who was at hand might wonder
how the poor bearers, thus bound to the earth,
turned them about, and wished to go forward;
but when they could not stir from the ground,
they set down the corpse and looked each on the other,
greatly wondering why it should thus befall them.
But when Martin understood that they were travelling with a corpse,
not with an idol, then he lifted up his hand,
and gave them leave to journey forward
and to bear the body to the tomb as they had intended.
Thus the holy bishop bound them with a word,
and again, when he would, let then; go away.
X. The holy Martin overthrew an idol
on a certain occasion, in a certain place;
and there was a pine-tree close to the temple, protected
and accounted very holy in heathen wise.
Then desired he also to cut down the tree;
but the idolaters opposed the saint,
saying that they could not find it in their mind
that he should cut down the tree, although he had overthrown their temple.
Then said the holy bishop that there was in that tree
no peculiar holiness, and told the heathen
that they ought rather to worship the true God,
and hew down the tree which was consecrated to the devil.
Then said one of the heathen to the holy bishop;
'If thou hast any trust in thy God,
we will cut down the tree, and thou shalt receive it when falling;
and if thy God is with thee, thou wilt go away safe.'
Then Martin, undismayed, and firmly confident in God,
promised that he would fulfil that (condition) by his deeds.
Then they all with glad minds began to cut down
the high pine-tree, and it was inclined
all to one side, so that one might easily know
whither it would settle; and they set Martin
there right opposite to it, that it might fall upon him.
Then his monks were wondrously affrighted,
and thought nothing else but that he should there be crushed;
and the tree while falling bent towards Martin.
Then Martin, undismayed, made towards the falling tree
the sign of the cross, and therewith it turned backward,
as if some sudden impulse had thrust it backward,
so that it very nearly fell on the greater part
of the people who stood there carelessly.
Then cried out the heathen with extreme astonishment,
and the monks wept for the wonderful joy;
and they all called upon the name of Christ with praise,
and all the people inclined to the faith.
So greatly were they converted by that miracle,
that through all that land they reared with faith
churches and monasteries; and Martin always,
wheresoever he overthrew idolatry, built churches.
XI. At one time also the holy man overthrew an idol,
and straightway he set fire to the devil's temple
so that it fell crackling with broad flame.
Then the fire turned forward with the wind
towards one of the houses which stood nearest thereto;
but Martin with haste climbed up on to the house,
and set himself opposite the roaring fire.
Then might he who was at hand see a miracle,
how the wind and the flame strove between them;
the wind blew the flame, but it turned backwards,
avoided the holy man who was on the house,
and burned that only which it was commanded to do.
XII. Again in a certain town which was called Levroux
the holy Martin desired to overthrow a temple
which was an exceeding rich house dedicated to the devils;
then the heathen refused this to the holy man
and drave him thence, grievously troubled.
Then Martin departed not very far from thence,
and clothed himself with haircloth, and bestrewed himself with ashes,
fasting three days, and besought his Lord
that he would (destroy) the heathen temple by heavenly might,
since he, by his power, could not crush it.
After that fasting there came suddenly to him
two shining angels with spears and shields,
as if in the likeness of a heavenly army,
saying to the saint that the Saviour had sent them,
that they might confound the churlish folk,
and succour Martin so that they should not withstand him.
Then Martin went to the aforesaid idol,
and with the succour of the angels, while men were looking on,
utterly destroyed the temple and the altar to dust,
and all the images of their venerated gods.
Then the heathen could not resist Martin,
but were greatly terrified by the divine might,
and believed in God, crying with faith
that that God was to be worshipped Whom the holy man preached,
and their gods were to be forsaken who could not profit them.
XIII. Once, on a certain occasion, even as the story telleth us,
the holy bishop was overthrowing a vast idol;
then came down straightway upon him the churlish folk,
fiercely raging, because they were heathen,
and one of them instantly drew his sword.
The bishop, going towards him, took off his cape,
and stretched forth his neck to the murderous heathen;
and therewith the heathen, when he would have slain him,
fell backwards, seized with terror,
and besought forgiveness of the holy bishop.
Another work was like to this:
when he in like manner had overthrown some other idol,
then a heathen fellow struck at the holy man,
but with the swing the sword flew out of his hand,
and no man could ever find it afterward.
Indeed, very often when the heathen were resisting him
that he should not destroy thus shamefully their idols,
he preached to them for so long a time
the true faith until he rendered
their venerated temple suitable for the faith.
So great might had he to heal men,
that it was not easy for any sick man to come to him
without his being forthwith wondrously healed.
XIV. In Treves was a maiden grievously afflicted,
lying in paralysis until all her limbs
were deadened, and she lay without hope.
Then it was made known to the father that Martin had come
into the town, and he ran to the saint
and sought his feet with bitter weeping,
beseeching the bishop that he would bless her.
' I believe,' he said, ' that she shall live through thee.'
Then Martin said that his powers were not
equal to so great a deed; but the father ceased not
to entreat him with weeping until the other bishops
who were with Martin compelled him to go
to the prostrate maiden, and an immense multitude
was there outside awaiting what the bishop would do.
Then Martin stretched his limbs on the ground,
and next hallowed a portion of oil,
and put it on the maiden's mouth; and thereupon she was able to speak,
and all her limbs at length revived,
and she therewith arose whole, the people being spectators of it.
XV. There was a certain great noble called Tetradius,
and one of his slaves was raving mad
then prayed he the saint to lay his hand upon him.
So Martin ordered them to bring the man to him,
but no man durst go to the possessed one,
because he wondrously foamed at the mouth,
and attempted to tear every one who went in to him.
Then Tetradius himself came and sought the saint,
praying him humbly that he would go to the poor man.
Then said the holy man that he would not go to his house,
as he was a heathen man, and of evil life.
Then the heathen noble promised the holy man
that he would be a Christian if the boy became whole.
And Martin at once went to the madman,
and laid his hand on him and quickly drove the devil
from the witless man; and he became immediately whole.
Then Tetradius, as soon as he saw that,
believed on our Lord, and let himself be anointed as a catechumen,
and after a little delay he was baptized,
and reverenced Martin with wondrous love,
because he was verily the author of his salvation.
XVI. At the same time in the same fortified town
went Martin to a man's house,
when he stopped suddenly before the threshold,
saying that he saw a terrible fiend in the chamber.
Then Martin commanded the hateful devil
to depart thence, and he thereupon became angry,
seized a man of the noble's household
and entered into him, and he therewith raged exceedingly,
and began to tear those whom he could reach.
Then the household fled and the people likewise.
But Martin went towards the madman,
and bade him straightway stand; and he stood there yawning
and endeavoured with his mouth to bite Martin.
Then Martin put his own fingers on the mouth
of the madman, and bade him gnaw them
if he had any power; but he withdrew his jaws
from the holy hand, as if from hot iron.
Then the holy man cast out the hateful devil
from the afflicted man, but he could not go out
through the mouth which Martin had touched,
but foully went out at his nether end.
XVII. During the time the bishop lived in the city,
it was reported throughout the town that there would come to it
(some one) with an invading army to harry the city.
Then all the citizens became wondrously terrified
for dread of the army. Then Martin bade men straightway
bring to him a possessed man, and he was brought to him.
Then the holy man bade the possessed say
if it were true about the invading army.
Then the devil confessed, by the mouth of the afflicted,
that there were sixteen devils who made this rumour,
and sowed it amongst the people, in order that they might thus,
by means of that terror, expel Martin from the city;
and it was all false about the invading army.
When the foul spirit had said this, they were freed from anxiety.
XVIII. Martin on one occasion journeyed with a great multitude
to the city of Paris, and as he came within the gate
there was there a leper wondrously diseased,
horrible to all men; but Martin kissed him,
and gave him his blessing, and immediately he became whole,
and came afterward in the morning to Martin,
blithely with sound skin, thanking him for his healing.
Likewise many sick men were often healed
by the borders of his garment which many men pulled off,
and bound on the sick, and they were instantly better.
In like manner men bound some of his bedstraw on a lunatic,
when the devil went from him and he received his reason.
XIX. There was a certain great noble called Arborius in that land,
a man of great faith, and his daughter lay in a fever,
sorely afflicted. Then one day they brought
a message in a letter to the same noble
from bishop Martin, and he laid it on her breast
where she was hottest, and she immediately becarae whole.
Then the father was so moved that he straightway vowed
her virginity to God, and brought her to Martin
that he might recognize his own might in the maiden,
neither would he that any other man should
give her the veil save the holy Martin.
A man called Paulinus was at that time thriving in good,
but his eyes were evilly troubled
with swollen brows and a great mist,
so that his pupils were greatly darkened.
Then Martin touched them with a pencil,
and all the soreness straightway departed from him
and the mist with it, through Martin's touch.
He was a very wealthy man, but was so stirred up
that he at last sold all his possessions
and distributed all to the poor for his Lord's love.
Then Martin greatly praised the man's deeds,
and commended them to others for an example, often saying of him
that he at that time had beautifully fulfilled the saying
which our Lord spake to a certain rich man;
' Go, and sell all thy goods, and give the worth to the poor,
and then shalt thou have treasure in the kingdom of heaven.'
XX. On one occasion Martin was mounting to an upper floor,
but the steps of the ladder had been previously injured,
and snapped suddenly so that he fell down,
and was much weakened with many wounds,
so that he lay sick in his private dwelling.
That night there came to him an angel,
whilst he himself was beholding, and smeared his limbs
with healing salve, and he soon after this, in the morning,
went forth whole, as if he had never been ill.
XXI. Maximus, the emperor who was in Martin's days,
very often invited the venerable man,
whenever he spoke with him, to be his guest;
but he always withheld himself from his banquet,
saying that he could not be his guest
who had slain one emperor and banished another.
Then Maximus answered Martin, and said
that he had never received the government of his own will,
but was chosen by his soldiers against his will
to the kingdom, and could not resist;
and that he could not strive against God's will,
and therefore had to defend himself with weapons;
saying also that no man had been slain by him
save those only who were fighting against him.
So Martin was inclined by the emperor's defence
and also by his entreaty to go to his banquet.
He would never be obsequious nor speak with flattery,
not even to the emperor, as his companions did;
even as he in the same feast manifested by an act of his.
He sat by the emperor, and they were very blithe
on account of Martin's feasting with them, and they bare to the emperor
even as it was customary, wine in a goblet.
Then bade he the cupbearer offer it first to Martin,
wishing to drink after the bishop's blessing.
Martin then drank, and gave to his mass-priest
the half part of the liquor which was in the goblet,
because he knew that he was worthiest
to drink after him; and they all wondered thereat,
and magnified his resolution throughout all the household.
Then he told the emperor, even as it happened to him afterwards,
that if he went to battle, as he intended,
against Valentinian whom he had before banished
from his kingdom, that victory would come to him,
but after a little space he would fall slain;
and it befell him even as Martin had prophesied to him.
He went after that to fight against that emperor,
and in the first assault he put Valentinian to flight;
but after about a year s space he came upon Maximus
within a city called Aquileia,
and there slew him, and afterward succeeded to his kingdom.
XXII. Once Martin was journeying to Valentinian the emperor,
wishing to speak with him for some needful cause;
but his proud mind and his wicked consort,
who lived heretically in the Arian heresy,
would not permit the holy bishop
to have entrance to announce his errand;
but the impious man bade men lock him out,
because he knew that he would ask that
which he would not grant, and insulted the saint.
Then came Martin again about the same business
to the haughty emperor, but they shut him out;
and he thereupon turned to his accustomed resource;
he clothed himself with haircloth, and strewed himself with ashes,
and continued fasting with unceasing prayers,
until a shining angel came to him
on the seventh day, and bade him go to the emperor;
and every gate should be open before him,
and the haughty emperor's mind should be softened.
Then the bishop went even as the angel bade him,
and every gate was opened before him
until he suddenly stood before the emperor.
Then the emperor was angry at his entrance,
and would not welcome him, but there appeared a miracle of God,
so that heavenly fire hung over his throne,
and set light to the throne, and would have done the same to himself
if he had not very quickly arisen, his anger being cast away;
and, being divinely terrified, kissed the bishop
whom he had before determined to scorn with insult.
Then he promised amendment forthwith to the bishop,
and granted him all that he required
before he asked him, and spake friendly to him
and offered him many gifts; but he would not receive them,
XXIII. Often Martin saw angels come to him
so that they spake familiarly to the saint;
and on one occasion an angel told him
what the other bishops had spoken in their synod,
and thus the saint knew what they had there decreed,
by the angel's saying, though he himself went not thither.
The holy apostles Peter and Paul he saw frequently,
even as he said himself to Sulpicius the writer,
who durst ask him anything that he would.
The same Sulpicius and another brother
sat one day, greatly afraid,
before Martin's room, and he knew not that they were outside;
then heard they some one conferring with Martin a long while,
and he had previously been locked in alone in the house.
Afterwards, as he came out, Sulpicius asked
and humbly besought him that he would reveal to him
who had been speaking with him; then he hesitated long
to tell it to him, but he said nevertheless,
'I adjure you now that ye tell it to no one;
Mary, Christ's mother, came to me hither
with two other virgins, Thecla and Agnes,
not on this one day but often readily before
have they come to me.' And he told them also
what their appearance had been and how they were clothed.
XXIV. So likewise the devils with their treacherous arts
came to him frequently; and he always knew them;
because no devil could hide himself from him,
neither in his own substance nor in any other form.
With a thousand wily arts did the treacherous devil
strive in some way to deceive the holy man,
and he showed himself visible in divers phantasms
to the saint, in the appearance of the gods of the heathen;
sometimes in Jove's form, who is called Thor,
sometimes in Mercury's who is called Odin,
sometimes in that of Venus, the foul goddess,
whom men call Fricg; and into many other shapes
the devil transformed himself in the bishop's sight.
Against this Martin always marked himself
with the sign of the cross, and sang his office,
remaining undismayed, and ever trusting in God.
When the devil saw that he could not bewitch him
with his snares, then he spake to him words of contumely,
and often vexed him with many reproaches;
but he was not stirred on account of his lying reproaches.
Some monks also who dwelt in the minster
said of a truth that they had plainly heard
how the devil threatened with presumptuous words
the holy Martin, because he had with him
some neophytes who were sinful,
and after their baptism did many evil things,
and said openly what the sin of each of them had been.
Then Martin answered the wicked devil,
and said that the old sins might be blotted out
by their conversion and better life,
and through God's mercy they might be absolved
from their sins when they ceased from evil.
Then the devil cried and retorted upon him,
that the wicked were not worthy of any mercy,
and, when they once relapsed, that they ought not afterward
to have any mercy from the Lord.
Then Martin spake again to the wicked one thus:
'If thou, miserable one, wouldst in this last time
cease from the persecution of men and repent of thy deeds,
I am confident in God that I might promise thee mercy.'
Behold how he manifested in his fervent love
holy boldness concerning God's clemency,
although he could not bring forth the performance thereof.
XXV. Again on one occasion after this came the wily devil
to the holy man where he was in his prayers,
clothed in purple and with kingly raiment,
with a golden diadem and with shoes of cloth of gold,
and with a blithe countenance in great brightness.
Then neither of them spake word to other
for a long while, and then after a long time
the devil spake first to the Lord's servant:
'Acknowledge now, Martin, him whom thou seest;
I am Christ who have come down to this world,
and I desired first to manifest myself to thee.'
Then Martin was silent, and the cunning one spake again:
'Why doubtest thou, Martin?' Believe, I am Christ.'
Then perceived the saintly man, by the Holy Ghost,
that it was the same devil and not his Lord, and said:
'Our Lord said not that He would come to us
with a diadem or clothed with purple;
and I believe not that He will come to us
save in the same form wherein He suffered;
and unless He show the same scars
of the Holy Rood on which he was hung.'
The devil straightway vanished like smoke
from the saint's sight, and the house was filled
with overpowering stench, so that men could easily know
that it was the devil who desired to deceive him;
and Martin told this to Sulpicius the writer.
XXVI. On one occasion came the devil with horrible roaring
to the holy man, having an ox-horn in his hand,
and said to Martin, ' Where is now thy might?
I have now slain a man of thy household.'
And his right hand was as if blood-stained.
Then Martin called his monks to him,
and told what the devil had revealed to him,
and bade seek diligently who was there slain.
There was a servant gone at that time to the wood,
who lay wounded by the way half alive;
and he therewith told that, as he was yoking his oxen,
one shook its head and pushed him with his horn
with very great force; and soon after he died.
Many things the holy man knew
long before they happened, and told the faithful monks
the things which had been revealed to him,
and afterward it alway came to pass as he had told them.
XXVII. A certain professing monk was called Anatolius,
of youthful age, who dwelt some time
close to Martin's monastery with an illustrious elder
called Clarus; and hid his evilness.
He showed outwardly all humility
and innocence, and at last he said
that angels had spoken with him, customarily, very often.
Then after a space, when he further erred,
he said that heavenly angels went daily
between the Lord and himself; and he himself was
an unlying prophet, and Clarus believed him.
Then he promised him God's anger and evil punishments
if he would not believe that he was holy;
and at last said that in the same night
there should come to him from the Almighty God
heavenly raiment; and he, dwelling amongst them,
clothed therewith, would manifest God's might.
Lo! then at midnight the monastery was aroused,
and there was a great noise of mocking devils,
and the monk's cell was filled with light,
and he himself went out with the shining raiment,
and showed the glorious sights to another monk;
then there came more, and lastly Clarus,
and examined the shining garment by the light.
It was very soft, shining like purple,
but they could not make out of what kind it was,
neither could they perceive more than that it was a robe,
neither by their touch nor by their sight.
Then in the morning it befell that they would have led the monk
to the holy Martin, but the monk would not,
saying that he could not go to Martin;
because he knew that he could not
by his fiendly craft deceive Martin's vision.
Then they dragged him against his will thitherward,
and the raiment instantly vanished from their sight,
and then was manifested his sorcery and hypocrisy.
Those mighty works we ascribe to Martin's merits,
that the devil could not conceal his delusions
if ever he came before Martin's sight.
At that same time were other deceivers,
limbs of Antichrist, with lying pretension;
one was in Spain who seduced the people of the country,
and long beguiled them with many delusions,
and said that he was Elias the prophet;
again afterwards he said that he was Christ himself,
and when some bishop, through simplicity,
believed the pretender and prayed to him,
he was on account of that heresy driven from his government.
There was another heretic also in the Eastern part,
who said that he was John the Baptist;
so likewise false prophets shall come before this world's ending
in every land, and shall mar the faith
until Antichrist himself shall come at the last.
XXVIII. Martin came once at the time of midwinter
to a priest's house, and so they made his bed
in the monastery parlour, and a great fire was there lighted.
Then the priests desired to bed him worthily,
and bare much straw for his bedding,
and took no heed of the fire which was on the floor.
Afterward when the holy man came, then he threw all the straw
out of the bedding, because he oftenest lay
upon a hair-cloth on the bare floor.
Thus he shunned the softness of the unaccustomed bedding,
and lay on the floor, even as we have liere said before.
The room was very narrow and logs were lying there;
and at midnight, when men slept fastest,
the fire was kindled with a very sudden burning
and filled the little house with the flame.
Then Martin was aroused by the flame,
and there was no man with him in the house,
and he in the sudden accident seized the door,
and could not unshoot the bolts quickly enough,
and the flame wound fiercely about him
so that his clothes burned on his back,
and he could not break out by reason of the burning.
Then he bethought himself, and saw that he could not
escape from the fire by any mode of flight,
but through God's power he might overcome it.
Then he left the door, and in the midst of the flame
cried to the Almighty God with single mind
and continued steadfast in the peril;
and therewith there was wrought a great wonder by God's help,
so that the fire bent from him on either side,
and he remained undismayed in the midst of the burning,
through the Lord's might, as if he were in dew.
Then his monks were aroused by the fire
where they lay; and when they saw the flame
and broke open the doors and parted the fire,
and dragged Martin from the midst of the flame,
they thought that he had verily been burned alive
in so long a burning, when the crackling fire
aroused them from sleep; and he said afterward
that he had felt the burning of the fire about him
so long as he strove with the bolts of the doors;
but as soon as he crossed himself and prayed to God,
all the flame about him bent away,
and it seemed to him as if he were in a pleasant dew.
He said also very often with inward groaning
that the wily devil had well nigh deceived him,
when he was so suddenly shaken out of sleep
that he did not know the wisdom of at once praying,
but too late began to beseech God
that He would deliver him from the peril of the fire.
By this he who readeth this book may understand
that Martin was not tempted to his destruction
through that great peril, but was tried
even as the Apostle Paul said in his epistle,
that he himself abode in the midst of the sea-depths
a day and a night unharmed, by God's help.
XXIX. Martin was going with his monks one day
towards the church in winter-time;
then came there towards him a poor man half naked,
begging earnestly that he would give him some clothing.
Then Martin bade his archdeacon straightway
that he should without delay clothe the poor man,
and went after his wont into the parlour,
and there remained alone until he was to say mass.
But the archdeacon would not clothe the poor man;
and the poor man stole in to Martin,
and bemoaned to him that he was very cold.
Then Martin immediately unclothed himself
under his chasuble secretly, and put his own raiment
on the poor man, and bade him go out.
Then after a little space the archdeacon came
and said that it was time that he should go into church
to say mass for the people and do honour to God.
Then Martin said to him that he could not go
so soon to church before the poor man was clothed,
and the archdeacon did not perceive that he within his chasuble
there sat naked; and said that he did not know
where the poor man was. And thereupon Martin said,
'Let the garment be brought quickly hither to me;
it will be no trouble to us to clothe a poor man.'
Then the archdeacon being angry went
and brought a garment impatiently to him,
mean and little, bought with little cost,
and with great ire laid it at his feet and said;
' Here is a garment, and here is no poor man.'
Then the holy man was not ruffled by his words,
but bade him wait for him there outside some while,
desiring that he should not know that he was naked;
then he clothed himself with the same garment,
and went to church and at once said mass.
At the very same mass three of the monks,
and one of the priests, and one of the nuns saw
above Martin's head as it were a burning globe,
so that the flame drew the hair far up,
and no more men might see this miracle.
XXX. At that same time there was a sick man
called Evantius, very grievously afflicted,
who expected his death rather than his life.
He was a good Christian, and sending then to Martin
besought his visitation; and the bishop went instantly
to the sick man, but he soon perceived
Martin's might before he came to midway,
and was immediately healed through the saint's might,
and went to meet him and received him reverently.
XXXI. After this in the morning, as Martin was setting out,
a certain boy of the noble's household
was bitten by an adder and nearly slain,
so that the poison spread through the whole body,
and it was all swollen up in the likeness of a butt.
Then Evantius, the master, took the boy
and brought him to Martin, greatly trusting
that it would not be impossible for him to heal the boy.
Then the holy man straightway laid his hand on the boy,
and touched all his limbs, and after that placed
his fingers on the wound which the worm had bitten.
Then they all saw that the poison flowed out
of all his limbs through the little wound
as if from a vein with its own blood;
and the boy arose up sound,
and they thereupon greatly extolled Martin.
XXXII. The holy man was once journeying to teach the people
throughout his bishopric, and his companions remained
for some need behind, and he himself rode forward;
then came suddenly toward him a company of the soldiery
in a royal car, and they did not know Martin.
Martin rode quickly towards them poorly clad
in black clothes; then the mules which drew the chariot
drew aside quickly, being frightened at his approach,
and entangled the traces, so that they could not pull.
Then the soldiers were madly incensed
and seized Martin, and scourged him a long while
with whips and with staves; and he was alway silent
as if he felt their blows nowhit,
and at this they were the madder against him,
and more furiously beat the holy man.
Then came his companions and found him lying
with bleeding limbs and beaten body,
and quickly raised him up upon his ass,
and hastened to get away from the place.
Then the soldiers desired to go forward with the chariot,
but all the mules became alike immoveable,
fastened to the earth as if they were brazen.
Then they beat all the mules alike
with whips and rods, but they ever stood
in the same place as if they had been images.
Then at length the soldiers understood by means of the beasts
that they had been set fast by divine might,
and began to enquire of other wayfarers
who the man might be whom they had so savagely beaten.
Then it was told them that it was Martin,
and they forthwith all ran after him,
bestrewed with dust and drearily weeping
that they had so shamefully maltreated the holy man,
and lay at his feet prostrate with fear,
beseeching his clemency that they might proceed,
and saying that they themselves rather deserved
to stand stiffened in the likeness of stones,
or that the earth should swallow them all.
Then Martin straightway compassionated the men,
and let them go forth with their chariot,
and their mules, those who had before stood stiff
even as stones, were immediately able to go.
The holy man nevertheless knew that they had been set fast
before they had come to him, and made that known to his companions,
because he often knew many a thing from afar
before it happened, through the spirit of prophecy.
XXXIII. The holy man was once travelling with his company,
when there came to him suddenly a great crowd of men,
and filled the field through which Martin was passing
as if for wonder at the holy man;
they were all heathen, and no man of the town
to which they belonged knew the Saviour.
Then Martin perceived that he ought to work a miracle,
and preached the Lord's word to the foolish heathen,
and with frequent sighings sorely bemoaned
that so great a multitude should not know the Almighty God.
It was God's providence that a woman brought thither
her dead son's body who had departed a little before,
and with outstretched hands said to the holy man;
'We know, Master, that thou art unlyingly God's friend,
heal me my son, for he is my only son.'
And the heathen folk also helped the woman.
Then the holy man took the corpse in his hand,
and with bended knees prayed to God;
and when he arose up, his prayer being ended,
he gave back the boy to his mother alive.
Then the heathen cried with a loud voice,
and said with faith that Christ was true God,
and fell all heap-meal at the holy man's knees,
earnestly praying him that he would make them Christians.
Neither did he hesitate to anoint the heathen as catechumens
in the wide field, since they believed on Christ,
but he admitted them all straightway on the spot as catechumens.
XXXIV. Again on a certain occasion, as Martin was travelling
with his companions, there came there suddenly running
an exceeding mad cow, and those that followed her
cried to the holy man to take care,
because she gored badly every one whom she met.
Then she came running with awful eyes,
but the holy man instantly commanded her to stand still,
and she straightway obeyed his best and stood there.
Then the holy man saw that there sat a devil
on the cow's back, and said to the demon;
'Depart, thou cruel one, away from the beast,
and cease to vex this innocent heifer.'
Then the evil spirit obeyed Martin,
and departed from the cow, and she immediately knew
that she was delivered, and lay outstretched
before his feet, her quiet being restored.
Then the holy man commanded her to go back to the herd,
and she, innocent as a sheep, returned to the drove.
XXXV. Martin also once met a hunter;
their dogs were furiously chasing a hare
over the broad field, and it doubled repeatedly,
thinking by the doubling to escape death.
Then the saint had ruth of the hare's peril,
and commanded the hounds to desist from running,
and to let the hare escape by flight.
Then the dogs stood, at the first word,
as if their feet were fastened to the earth,
and the hare got away safely from the dogs.
XXXVI. There was a certain soldier of the world who desired to be a monk,
and laid down his weapons in God's church,
and turned to the monastic life before men,
and erected for himself a cell in a secret place
as if he could easily become an anchorite,
and Martin had consecrated his consort
to a nun's life in a certain convent.
Then the devil sent such a thought into the monk
that he would have his wife with him as companion,
and he went to Martin and opened his mind to him.
Then said the holy man that it was unbecoming
that his wife should dwell with him again;
after he was a monk, and refused him this.
He, nevertheless, continued in his self-will,
and said that it should not hurt his monkhood,
though he should enjoy her comfort and assistance,
and that he would not return to his former sins.
When he continued long in this obstinacy,
then said the holy man to the scornful monk,
' Tell me, I ask of thee, if thou hast ever been
either in battle or in any cohort?'
He said that he had verily been very often
both in a cohort and also in battle.
Then Martin said to the monk again,
' Sawest thou any woman when thou wast in battle
fighting beside you with drawn sword?'
Then the monk was ashamed, and he was very thankful
that he had been conquered by reason,
and that Martin had prevented him from following his error.
Then said the holy man, ' A woman should not go
to men's camps but remain at home;
contemptible would be the army in which women should fight;
let the soldier fight in the warlike cohort,
and let the woman keep herself within the protection of the wall,
and she shall have her glory if she keep her chastity
after her husband's departure, and that shall be her strength,
and perfect victory, that she be not seen abroad.
XXXVII. The holy bishop was once in the city of Chartres
with two other bishops, when a certain man brought
his daughter to him, who was born dumb,
a maiden of twelve winters, and besought Martin
that he through his merits would unloose her tongue.
Then the bishop hesitated, but the others begged him,
and assisted the father that he should perform his request.
Then Martin bade the multitude go out,
save the bishops only and her own father;
then lie prostrated himself, as his wont was,
in private prayers, and afterward arose,
and blessed some oil and poured it on her mouth,
and with his fingers held her tongue forward,
and after that asked her what her father was called.
Then the maiden at once said her father's name,
and had her speech with healed tongue.
XXXVIII. The holy man once blessed for a woman some oil
in a vessel which we call ampulla,
for the need of sick men, as she herself besought;
and after the blessing the oil was carried to her.
Then the oil increased all along the way
so that it overflowed, and nevertheless came to her full;
other oil he blessed in a glass ampulla,
and set the oil in a window;
and a boy knocked down the vessel unwarily
upon the marble, but it could not break
nor could it lose Martin's blessing.
XXXIX. Likewise other men in Martin's name
performed miracles, even as the writer said
that a hound was barking furiously at a man;
then in Martin's name he commanded the hound to hold his peace,
and he was instantly silent as if he were dumb.
XL. Some shipmen were rowing on the Tyrrhene sea,
as one goeth to Rome, and there suddenly came
such a great storm to them that they had no hope of life.
There was in the vessel an Egyptian merchant,
unbaptized as yet, but he with firm confidence said;
'O thou God of Martin! protect us now!'
And the sea straightway became exceeding smooth,
all its roughness ceasing, and they went joyfully on their way.
XLI. There was a certain barbarous count called Avitianus,
savage in his deeds, who bound many men
and brought them in chains to the city of Tours,
intending afterward in the morning to kill them cruelly
in the presence of the citizens, and it became known to the bishop.
Then the holy man considered how he might help them,
and went alone at midnight to his gates,
and when he could not get in he waited there outside.
Then the count was suddenly awaked by God's angel,
who said to him sternly, ' Liest thou and restest thyself,
and God's servant lieth at thy gates?'
And thereupon he arose terrified, and said to his men
that Martin was without his gates,
and bade them go to, and undo the gates,
that the servant of God might no longer suffer such insult.
Then they went out to the inner gate,
and told their lord that they saw no one there,
and said that he must have been deceived in sleep.
Then Avitianus went back to his bed
and was again awfully aroused from sleep,
and shouted to his men and said, that Martin was standing
before his gates, and therefore he could
have no rest, neither of mind nor of body.
Then they still delayed, but he went himself
to the outer gate, and behold, he found
Martin there outside, even as it had been revealed to him.
He was astonished and said to the holy man;
'How now, O dear lord! why doest thou thus?
Thou needest speak no word nor ask anything,
I know what thou desirest; but wend thee now home,
lest God's anger destroy me for the insult to thee.'
Then the holy man straightway returned home,
and the count commanded in the same night
to let all those go away whom he had intended to kill,
and he himself departed, being afraid, from the city.
XLII. He showed his cruelty in every city,
and ever delighted in the slaughter of unhappy men,
but before Martin he was esteemed mild, no
and durst do no cruelty in Tours.
The holy Martin once came to him,
and, as he was going into his parlour,
he saw then a huge swart devil
sitting on his back, and he [Martin] blew on him;
then Avitianus thought that he was blowing upon him,
and said to the holy man; ' Why dost thou look at me so, holy father?'
The bishop answered him; ' I look not at thee,
but at the swart devil which sitteth on thy neck;
I blew him off thee.' And so the devil departed,
and straightway abandoned his familiar seat.
And Avitianus was more merciful ever afterward
from the day on which the devil departed from him,
either because he was aware that he had been performing his will,
or because the evil spirit was expelled from him
through Martin's might; and he was greatly ashamed
of the devil's vassalage in which he had been until then.
XLIII. Martin had two miles to go from his monastery
to the city of Tours in which was his episcopal see;
and as often as he went thither the devils in possessed men
feared, because they knew of his coming,
and straightway the possessed men, with horrible roaring,
were filled with dread, even as condemned thieves
tremble, being in dread, at the judge's coming.
So Martin's coming was made known to the priests
through the devil's roaring, though they knew it not before.
As often as he desired to cast out devils from the insane,
he prostrated himself on the church-floor,
clothed with hair-cloth and bestrewed with ashes,
lying in his prayers with locked doors,
and the devils afterward were immediately driven
from the afflicted men with wonderful gesticulations;
that the saying might be fulfilled in Martin,
that holy men shall judge angels.
XLIIII. At that time there was a town in the province of the Senones
which was usually devastated every year by hail;
so that their fields were spoiled before
any reaper had gathered the harvest.
Then the town-council sent a trusty messenger
to the holy Martin, praying for his help.
Then Martin entreated the merciful Lord
for the afflicted men; and from that day forth,
for the space of twenty years, while he continued in life,
there came not again into that country any hail;
but in the first year after he was dead
the hail came back, and evilly afflicted them,
that this earth might know of Martin's departure,
and weep for his death, as it had rejoiced in his life.
XLV. There was a certain idol-temple very firmly built,
and craftily wrought with wondrously hewn stones,
and there many brothers dwelt afterward
in Martin's time. Then he ordered a mass-priest
called Marcellus, who had his dwelling there,
to overthrow that wondrous temple.
Afterward when the holy man came and the work stood whole,
he chid the mass-priest, and he said to him in answer
that not easily could an armed multitude
break in pieces such a work of such wondrous weight;
neither could priests who were but weak,
nor infirm monks break in pieces so great a work.
Then Martin turned to his wonted aid,
and watched all that night alone in his prayers,
and soon after in the morning there was so great a storm
that all that enormous work was overturned from the foundations.
XLVI. He desired also to overthrow a wondrous pillar
of immense weight on which the temple stood,
but he had not the strength to crush it;
then again he turned to his wonted prayers,
and there came visibly, as it were another pillar
from above out of heaven, and struck the other,
though it was exceeding great, so that it was all (ground) to dust.
It might seem a small thing that heavenly might
should serve the holy man invisibly,
unless human eyes should also perceive
that heavenly might did service to the holy Martin.
XL VII. A certain woman was grievously afflicted with an issue
of blood;
then she touched his garment, even as we read in the gospel
concerning another woman, and she immediately became whole.
XLVIII. The holy Martin was once standing with his monks
on the river-shore, and behold there swam
a water-snake towards them. Then said the holy man;
'I command thee in God's name, that thou turn back.'
And the evil worm instantly, according to his word,
returned to the other bank, and they all wondered thereat;
and then Martin said with great sadness;
'Adders hear me, but men will not hear me.'
XLIX. On Easter-days he would eat fish if he had it.
Then, on a certain Easter-day, he asked the steward
whether he had fish for the festival;
and he said in answer that they all could not,
neither the fishermen nor himself, catch even one sprat.
Then said the holy man; 'Cast out now thy net,
and a take of fish shall come to thee.' And he tried it immediately,
cast out his net, and there was within it
an enormous salmon; and he drew it up,
bare it home to the monastery and prepared it for the saint.
L. There was a certain believing nobleman called Licontius;
then it befell his servants that they all lay sick
of an indescribable disease; and he straightway sent
a letter to Martin, praying for some help.
Then the holy man perceived that they were afflicted
by divine might, and that he could easily
grant them the request; but he ceased not, nevertheless,
to intercede for them with a seven nights' fast,
until he obtained that for which he was praying.
Then Licontius came and made known to the saint,
with many thanks, that his household was delivered,
by means of Martin, from the manifold disease,
and brought the saint a hundred pounds (of silver) as an offering.
Then the holy man would not have the gift;
yet he did not despise it, but gave all the money
to afflicted men and to those who were in captivity,
and thus redeemed them out of misery.
Then the brothers earnestly besought the bishop
that he would put some part of the money into the monastery-coffer,
saying that their food and clothing were scanty.
Then said the holy man to them in answer:
' Let our church feed us and let our church clothe us,
and we will keep nought for ourselves of this gift.'
What shall we longer write concerning Martin's miracles,
since Sulpicius said that they were numberless,
and no speech can reckon his miracles,
because he had greater power in his monkhood
than in the episcopal office, according to what he himself said
But we will now speak concerning his departure.
LI. The blessed Martin knew of his ending
long before he departed from this life to Christ;
and he announced his death to some of his brothers.
There were at that time in the monastery at Candes
some priests at variance, and he journeyed thither,
desiring to reconcile them before his departure,
and to leave God's congregation at peace.
So he travelled thitherward with some brothers,
when he saw some diver-birds swimming in a river,
and repeatedly dipping down to the bottom,
pursuing the fish with ravenous greediness.
Then spake the holy man to his companions thus;
'These birds have a likeness to fiends
who ever lay snares about the unwary,
and greedily take them, and destroy them when taken,
and are not filled with the prey that they take.'
Then Martin bade the greedy divers
desist from fishing and journey to the wilderness;
and the birds thereupon went away to the wood,
all together, even as the venerable man commanded.
He put the diver-birds to flight by the same best
whereby he had expelled devils from men.
LII. After that, Martin came to the monastery,
and abode there some while, and reconciled the priests.
Afterward when he would have returned home he became ill,
and told his brethren that he should die;
then they were all very sorrowful,
and with great lamentation asked him;
' O thou our father! why forsakest thou us,
or to whom committest thou us, forsaken?
Verily ravening wolves will come
to thy flock, and who will defend it
Verily we know that thou longest for Christ,
and for thee thy rewards are laid up for a surety;
oh rather have pity on us whom thou forsakest.'
Then the holy man was moved with these words,
and cried with weeping and said to his Lord;
' Lord, my Saviour! if I am yet necessary
to Thy people, I refuse not
still to labour; Thy will be done;
I will not plead the excuse of my failing age.
I have fulfilled Thy service devoutly; under Thy sign
I will fight so long as Thou Thyself shalt command.'
Then he lay thus for a few days longer,
weakened with fever, continuing in prayers,
lying on stiff hair-cloth, bestrewed with ashes.
Then the brethren entreated that they might
at least underlay his bed with softer bedding.
Then said the holy man to the weeping brethren;
'It befitteth not a Christian man save that he die in dust;
if I set you any other example, then I should sin.'
He released not his unconquered spirit from prayers,
but he never ceased his prayers with open eyes
and uplifted hands. Then the priests wished
that he should lie on the other side, and so rest himself.
Then the saint replied, ' Suffer, I pray,
that I may look upon heaven rather than upon earth,
and that my spirit may be sent on its journey to the Lord.'
Then he saw the devil standing close at hand,
and he began, undismayed, to ask him;
'Why standeth thou here, thou cruel beast?
thou wilt find nothing in me, thou evil one.
I shall be received into Abraham's dwelling.'
And after these words the soul departed
from the afflicted body, happily to heaven.
On Sunday morning he departed when he was
eighty-one winters old, and after Christ's passion
four hundred and twelve winters by computation;
and thereupon many men heard at his departure
very loud voices of angels singing
sounding upon high through the heavens,
even as it saith in books which are written about him.
His body forthwith appeared in glory,
brighter than glass, whiter than milk,
and his countenance shone more than light,
then already glorified for the future resurrection.
Alas! what lament of the true and faithful
was loudly sounding there, and especially the wail
of the monks and nuns at Martin's death.
LIII. A certain bishop Severinus, in the city of Cologne,
a man of holy life, heard in the early morning
a very loud song in the heavens, and therewith he summoned to him
his archdeacon, and asked him whether
he had heard the voice of the heavenly rejoicing.
He answered and said that he had heard nothing of it.
Then the bishop bade him to hearken more carefully;
so he stood and listened, leaning on his staff,
and could hear nothing of that mirth.
Then they both prostrated themselves, praying the Almighty
that he might hear the heavenly music;
then he listened again, and said that he heard
voices of singers, sounding in heaven,
and knew not, nevertheless, what the voices were.
Then Severinus said; ' I tell thee, concerning this,
that the blessed Martin hath departed from this world;
and now angels, singing, carrying his soul
with them to heaven; and the hateful devil
with his unrighteous spirits would have hindered him,
but he departed, confounded, away from the saint,
and found nothing of his own in him.
How will it be with us sinful ones, since the guileful devil
thought to hurt so illustrious a priest?'
Then the archdeacon sent forthwith to Tours,
to Martin's episcopal see, and bade enquire concerning him;
then it was truly told him that he had given up his soul
at the same hour in which they had heard the song.
LIV. On the very same day Ambrose the bishop,
in the city of Milan, when he was standing at mass,
fell asleep, even as God willed,
and no man durst readily awake him;
nevertheless after two hours they awaked him,
and said that the time was passing away,
and that the folk were wearied exceedingly.
Then said the holy bishop; ' Be ye not vexed,
it greatly profiteth me that I should thus sleep,
for that my Lord hath revealed to me a great wonder.
Know ye that my brother, the holy Martin,
is departed from the body, and I wrapped up his body
with the wonted offices; and when ye awaked me,
his headcloth was not entirely arranged.'
They were astonished at his words and deeds,
and learned after a while that the venerable Martin
had departed on that day on which Ambrose said
that he had been at the holy man's laying out.
Behold! blessed is the man for whom at his departing
the company of the saints sang on high,
and the host of angels rejoiced, and all the heavenly citizens
came to meet him, and the foul devil
in his presumption was by the Lord confounded.
The holy church is strengthened in might,
and the priests of God are glorified
by the revelation of Martin's departure,
whom the holy Michael with his angels
and blessed Mary with companies of virgins received;
whom paradise holdeth, happy among saints.
LV. While the holy man's body was still lying within,
there came there a great multitude from many cities,
and the Poitevin folk no less than the people of Tours,
and there was a strife betwixt the two peoples.
Then said the Poitevins who had come thither;
'He was our monk and also our abbot,
we desire to have him because we lent him formerly;
ye have enjoyed his words and profited by his teaching,
ye have conversed with him and been strengthened by his blessings,
and have been gladdened by manifold wonders;
let all this be enough for you. Let us now at least
convey his soulless body with us.'
Then the men of Tours answered thus;
'If ye say that his miracles are enough for us,
then know ye that he wrought more miracles with you
than he did with us; and although we pass over many,
for you he raised verily two dead men
and for us but one; and so he often said,
that he had more might in the monastic office
than in the episcopal office, and we have now need
that he, being dead, should accomplish that which he did not in life.
From you he was taken away and given to us by God,
and after the old tradition he ought to have a sepulchre
in the same city where he was bishop.
If ye desire to have him for the sake of the monastery
and because he was with you, then know ye this,
that he had a monastery in Milan at the first.'
In the midst of this dispute the day came to an end,
and the citizens of both towns kept close by the saint;
and the Poitevins purposed in the morning
to take the saint violently away from the others by force.
Then at midnight, as Martin willed,
the Poitevins were so wondrously asleep
that of all the multitude not one man watched.
Then the men of Tours saw how the others slept,
and took the body which lay there on the floor,
and bare it to the ship with exceeding joy,
and hastened by rowing on the river Vienne,
and thence into the Loire, very loudly singing,
until they came to the city of Tours.
Then the others were aroused by the song,
and were possessing naught of their treasure
which they should have guarded, but they returned home
with great confusion that it had so befallen them.
Then the holy body was laid in a sepulchre
in the same city where he had been bishop,
with great solemnity, and there afterward
many miracles were performed for the sake of his merits.
Six and twenty winters he was bishop there,
and the city was long without a bishop
before Martin was consecrated as bishop,
on account of the heathenism which the people then practised.
Be glory and praise to the benign Creator
Who so adorned His holy priest with miracles;
Who reigneth in eternity. Almighty Ruler. Amen.