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| Letter II. To the Deacon Aurelius. Sulpitius has a Vision of St. Martin.
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Letter II. To the Deacon Aurelius.
Sulpitius has a Vision of St. Martin.
Sulpitius Severus to
Aurelius the Deacon sendeth greeting,—53
After you had departed from me in the morning, I was
sitting alone in my cell; and there occurred to me, as often happens,
that hope of the future which I cherish, along with a weariness of the
present world, a terror of judgment, a fear of punishment, and, as a
consequence, indeed as the source from which the whole train of thought
had flowed, a remembrance of my sins, which had rendered me worn and
miserable. Then, after I had placed on my couch my limbs fatigued with
the anguish of my mind, sleep crept upon me, as frequently happens from
melancholy; and such sleep, as it is always somewhat light and
uncertain in the morning hours, so it pervaded my members only in a
hovering and doubtful manner. Thus it happens, what does not occur in a
different kind of slumber, that one can feel he is dreaming while
almost awake. In these circumstances, I seemed suddenly to see St.
Martin appear to me in the character of
a bishop, clothed in a white robe, with a
countenance as of fire, with eyes like stars, and with purple
hair.54
| 54 “crine
purpureo”: it is impossible to tell the exact color which is
intended. | He thus appeared to me with that aspect and
form of body which I had known, so that I find it almost difficult to
say what I mean—he could not be steadfastly beheld, though he
could be clearly recognized. Well, directing a gentle smile towards me,
he held out in his right hand the small treatise which I had written
concerning his life. I, for my part, embraced his sacred knees, and
begged for his blessing according to custom. Upon this, I felt his hand
placed on my head with the sweetest touch, while, amid the solemn words
of benediction, he repeated again and again the name of the cross so
familiar to his lips. Ere long, while my eyes were earnestly fixed upon
him, and when I could not satisfy myself with gazing upon his
countenance, he was suddenly taken away from me and raised on high. At
last, having passed through the vast expanse of the air, while my
straining eyes followed him ascending in a rapidly moving cloud, he
could no longer be seen by me gazing after him. And not long after, I
saw the holy presbyter Clarus, a disciple of Martin’s who had
lately died, ascend in the same way as I had seen his master. I,
impudently desiring to follow, while I aim at and strive after such
lofty steps, suddenly wake up; and, being roused from sleep, I had
begun to rejoice over the vision, when a boy, a servant in the family,
enters to me with a countenance sadder than is usual with one who gives
utterance to his grief in words. “What,” I enquire of him,
“do you wish to tell me with so melancholy an aspect?”
“Two monks,” he replied, “have just been here from
Tours, and they have brought word that Martin is dead.” I confess
that I was cut to the heart; and bursting into tears, I wept most
abundantly. Nay, even now, as I write these things to you, brother, my
tears are flowing, and I find no consolation for my all but unbearable
sorrow. And I should wish you, when this news reaches you, to be a
partaker in my grief, as you were a sharer with me in his love. Come
then, I beg of you, to me without delay, that we may mourn in common
him whom in common we love. And yet I am well aware that such a man
ought not to be mourned over, to whom, after his victory and triumph
over the world, there has now at last been given the crown of
righteousness. Nevertheless, I cannot so command myself as to keep from
grieving. I have, no doubt, sent on before me one who will plead my
cause in heaven, but I have, at the same time, lost my great source of
consolation in this present life; yet if grief would yield to the
influence of reason, I certainly ought to rejoice. For he is now
mingling among the Apostles and Prophets, and (with all respect for the
saints on high be it said) he is second to no one in that assembly of
the righteous as I firmly hope, believe, and trust, being joined
especially to those who washed their robes in the blood of the55
Lamb. He now follows the Lamb as his guide,
free from all spot of defilement. For although the character56
of our times could not ensure him the honor
of martyrdom, yet he will not remain destitute of the glory of a
martyr, because both by vow and virtues he was alike able and willing
to be a martyr. But if he had been permitted, in the times of Nero and
of Decius,57
| 57 Roman emperor,
a.d. 249–251; his full name was
C. Messius Quintus Trajanus Decius. | to take part in the
struggle which then went on, I take to witness the God of heaven and
earth that he would freely have submitted58
to
the rack of torture, and readily surrendered himself to the flames:
yea, worthy of being compared to the illustrious Hebrew youths, amid
the circling flames, and though in the very midst of the furnace, he
would have sung a hymn of the Lord. But if perchance it had pleased the
persecutor to inflict upon him the punishment which Isaiah endured, he
would never have shown himself inferior to the prophet, nor would have
shrunk from having his members torn in pieces by saws and swords. And
if impious fury had preferred to drive the blessed man over precipitous
rocks or steep mountains, I maintain that, clinging59
| 59 Some read “perhibeo
confisus testimonium veritati,” and others
“veritatis”; in either case, the construction is confused
and irregular. | to
the testimony of truth he would willingly have fallen. But if, after
the example of the teacher of the Gentiles,60
as
indeed often happened, he had been included among other victims who
were condemned61
| 61 A late use of the verb
deputare. | to die by the sword,
he would have been foremost to urge on the executioner to his work that
he might obtain the crown62
| 62 i.e. martyrdom,
“palmam sanguinis.” | of blood. And, in
truth, far from shrinking from a confession of the Lord, in the face of
all those penalties and punishments, which frequently prove too much
for human infirmity, he would have stood so immovable as to have smiled
with joy and gladness over the sufferings and torments he endured,
whatever might have been the tortures inflicted upon him. But although
he did in fact suffer none of these things, yet he fully attained to
the honor of martyrdom without shedding his blood. For what agonies of
human sufferings did he not endure in behalf of the hope of eternal
life, in hunger, in watchings, in nakedness, in fastings,
in reproachings of the
malignant, in persecutions of the wicked, in care for the weak, in
anxiety for those in danger? For who ever suffered but Martin suffered
along with him? Who was made to stumble and he burnt not? Who perished,
and he did not mourn deeply? Besides those daily struggles which he
carried on against the various conflicts with human and spiritual
wickedness, while invariably, as he was assailed with divers
temptations, there prevailed in his case fortitude in conquering,
patience in waiting, and placidity in enduring. O man, truly
indescribable in piety, mercy, love, which daily grows cold even in
holy men through the coldness of the world, but which in his case
increased onwards to the end, and endured from day to day! I, for my
part, had the happiness of enjoying this grace in him even in an
eminent degree, for he loved me in a special manner, though I was far
from meriting such affection. And, on the remembrance, yet again my
tears burst forth, while groans issue from the bottom of my heart. In
what man shall I for the future find such repose for my spirit as I did
in him? and in whose love shall I enjoy like consolation? Wretched
being that I am, sunk in affliction, can I ever, if life be spared me,
cease to lament that I have survived Martin? Shall there in future be
to me any pleasure in life, or any day or hour free from tears; or can
I ever, my dearest brother, make mention of him to you without
lamentation? And yet, in conversing with you, can I ever talk of any
other subject than him? But why do I stir you up to tears and
lamentations? So I now desire you to be comforted, although I am unable
to console myself. He will not be absent from us; believe me, he will
never, never forsake us, but will be present with us as we discourse
regarding him, and will be near to us as we pray; and the happiness
which he has even to-day deigned to bestow, even that of seeing him in
his glory, he will frequently in future afford; and he will protect us,
as he did but a little while ago, with his unceasing benediction. Then
again, according to the arrangement of the vision, he showed that
heaven was open to those following him, and taught us to what we ought
to follow him; he instructed us to what objects our hope should be
directed, and to what attainment our mind should be turned. Yet, my
brother, what is to be done? For, as I am myself well aware, I shall
never be able to climb that difficult ascent, and penetrate into those
blessed regions. To such a degree does a miserable burden press me
down; and while I cannot, through the load of sin which overwhelms me,
secure an ascent to heaven, the cruel pressure rather sinks me in my
misery to the place of despair.63
Nevertheless, hope
remains, one last and solitary hope, that, what I cannot obtain of
myself, I may, at any rate, be thought worthy of, through the prayers
of Martin in my behalf. But why, brother, should I longer occupy your
time with a letter which has turned out so garrulous, and thus delay
you from coming to me? At the same time, my page being now filled, can
admit no more. This, however, was my object in prolonging my discourse
to a somewhat undue extent, that, since this letter conveys to you a
message of sorrow, it might also furnish you with consolation, through
my sort of friendly conversation with you.E.C.F. INDEX & SEARCH
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