MONKS AND FRIARS.—SAINTS AND HERMITS.
The early monks attracted the notice of the people by the rigid exercise of their devotions. The greater part of them passed their time in deserted places, in divine contemplation, and in the acquisition of useful knowledge; in consequence of which, they began to be venerated and considered as heavenly-minded men, approaching to the perfection of angels; but in the course of time, and on this very account, their reclusion, and the regard in which they were held, soon induced multitudes to betake themselves to the same courses of life, though not with the same views; as being more profitable than the remuneration resulting from their own homely and industrious avocations. The numbers that embraced this profession became at length so overwhelming and intolerant, that factions burst out amongst them, to which the spirit of the people soon became subject, and to cause grievous disturbances thereby, both to church and state. Many of the wandering hordes, under the denomination of monks, arerepresented by Gregory Nazianzen, as crews of ruffians and banditti, rather than as sober-minded men, professing a scrupulous morality, with a view to the amelioration of society and the welfare of mankind in general. They were cruel, rapacious, insinuating, cunning, and not unfrequently malignant in the extreme, indulging in the vilest propensities that shock and disgust human nature; and if we may believe their contemporaries, no species of vice was unknown to, or left unpractised by them.
The first dawn of monkish influence and power in the western world, was ushered in by St. Jerome, who, though represented as a very pious and good man, but having some passions the world had not yet gratified, grew wroth with and retired into the east, where he turned monk; and, as if to be revenged of the ungrateful world, he openly professed, that it were hardly possible to receive salvation in it without adopting the same course as he had done, that was, to become a monk. And although thus far monkery had its way paved in the west by the resolutions of Jerome, it was many years after his death, before any order of monkhood was instituted in that quarter.
Benedict, who lived about an hundred years after St. Jerome, being reckoned the father of the order in the western parts, and although it does not appear that he formed any order of monks, with the three vows, yet since the oldest monkish order in the Roman church is called by his name, we shall give first a short sketch of him and his order; leaving the reader to take, as well in this instanceas in those that follow, as much for granted as he can well swallow, without danger of being choked.
Of the birth, parentage, and education of theBlessedBenedict, all we can state is, that his holiness drew his first pious and miraculous breath in Rome, about the year 480; and that having, whilst a boy, become weary of a wicked world, he retired to the Desert of Sabulea in Italy, where he was kindly received and hospitably entertained by a monk, whose name was Roman, who lived retired from man, in the cleft of an immense high rock, of difficult and hazardous access. The generous and christianlike Roman supplied his young guest with a portion of all he begged, borrowed, or stole, or could possibly spare out of his own all devouring paunch. But it would appear, that getting tired of his protegé, whose appetite, perhaps, might be too great a drawback upon his fortuitous resources, or whether in the midst of an accidental and unexpectedblow outthat he met with, somewhere or other, on an Easter-eve, he forgot to supply his guest in the cranny with his usual fare; be this as it may, all protecting Providence, that “feeds the young ravens,” and who “tempers the wind to the shorn lamb,” was not on this occasion unmindful of young Benedict; for it turned out that a certain priest, whose name we are not favoured with, and who it appears had been on a similar foraging expedition as Roman, against Eastertide, was hailed by a voice from heaven, and bid “not to take so much care of his own gut, but to carry that he had provided to the place where Benedictwas.” The priest obeyed; gave Benedict the contents of his market basket, and also told him that it was Easter-day, an event that was unknown to him previous to this unexpected visit. Having, however, been subsequently forced out of his den to procure food, for it does not appear that either Roman or the priest ever returned, some shepherds discovered him crawling among the bushes covered with “beasts’ hair;” at which they became so terrified, that taking him for some savage monster, they were about to depart, when they had a glimpse of hisphysog, which certainly formed an encouraging contrast when compared with the preter human developement of his body; the result was, the shepherds took courage and approached him; and having, as the story goes, been much edified with his discourse, they informed the neighbourhood of the affair, which was the means of young Benedict being well supplied with every thing he stood in need of; in return for which, they were as well repaid with godly exhortations. But the devil, who, no doubt, is always on theque vivewhen any of his opponents are getting a-head of him, was resolved to put young ’Dict’s chastity to the test, appeared to him in the shape of a blackbird, and approached so near to his mouth that’dictmight, had he thought proper, have grabbed him; but, instead of availing himself of this opportunity to crush old Beelzebub, he heroically suffered him to escape, although he, the devil, left behind him “so terrible a dishonest carnal temptation,” that Benedict never before nor after this time, felt such queer and indescribablesensations; in short, he was in such a quandary, that he hesitated and doubted whether it would not be better for him to return once more to the world, the flesh, sin and the devil; yet, having recovered himself a little from the paroxysm with which the devil had contrived to possess him, he threw off his clothes and rolled among thorns. But whereas Benedict, for sundry causes and reasons moving him thereunto, did keep a raven, which said raven the aforesaid Benedict did constantly every day feed with his own hand, which raven, Benedict, whether from similarity of appetite or other latent and peculiar passion, always addressed by the familiar and consanguineous appellation of brother; on this occasion, having offered him a part of the poisoned loaf, the sagacious raven rejected it with indignation, and commenced flying and croaking about his master, pointing out to him, in the mostravenousmanner, the evil intended him. Alarmed at such conduct, Benedict said, Brother, I did not offer you this loaf that you should eat it, but that you might carry it and hide it somewhere, that it may never do any hurt. This was done, the raven disposed of the poisoned loaf, returned, and had his dinner as usual[80].
Notwithstanding this disappointment, Florentino did not cease to persecute Benedict. He got together, for this purpose, a number of common strumpets, whom he sent to dance naked before the holy Friar; this ordinance, to the great joy of Florentino, they correctly performed to the letter,which compelled Benedict to leave the place, lest peradventure he might be tempteddi novoto sin against the flesh, as he was in the wilderness, by the Devil in the shape of a blackbird. But that joy was not of long duration, for soon after Florentino’s house fell down upon him and killed him. When Benedict heard of his death, he was exceedingly troubled, not because he died during his wicked courses, butbecause he had, he said, lost an enemy, who, if he had lived, would have increased his merits much. After this great loss, Benedict was informed, that Apollo still had a temple on the mountain of Callino, and was worshipped in it with sacrifices; he accordingly mustered together some of his brethren, and went and pulled it down to the ground, set fire to all the groves that surrounded it, and having built a monastery on the same spot, he converted the whole country round to christianity.
The Devil, as may easily be supposed, got very angry with Benedict for having deprived him of that mountain, called out Benedict, Benedict, for the purpose of speaking to him, but Benedict, it appears, did not vouchsafe to answer him; in consequence of which, the Devil left him, ejaculating, as he fled away, Maledict, Maledict, what hast thou to do with me? Why do you persecute me so much? And, in the height of his diabolical passion and despair, threw down a wall that was building, which unfortunately fell upon a boy and killed him; but Benedict, to be revenged of the Devil, soon brought him to life again. Brother Plaudo had been drowned, if brother Mauro had not been sent by Benedict to draw him out of thewater. There was a great fuss made to know who was the author of that miracle; Benedict conferring the merit on Mauro, and Mauro, equally courteous and condescending, attributing it to Benedict.
The order styled the Benedictine, was not only the oldest but the richest in the Roman church. The costume was black, in compliment, no doubt, to the Raven, who had the honour of being Benedict’s first brother; and the leather belt which they wore, was believed to possess so much virtue, that it was kissed kneeling by all who visited them, if they wished to be well received.
The second order of monks, and which, similar to the others, arose out of the relaxations of the Benedictines, was that ofClunyin France, instituted about the year 900, by Abbot Odo.
This order differed very little from the Benedictine. When Odo was a boy he was much delighted with Virgil: “he was cured of that dangerous appetite by a vessel, which was very curious, being shewn to him, but which was within full of deadly serpents; and lest Odo should, by his great fondness for Virgil, have been hindered from applying that vision right, the application was made by a voice from Heaven; and which Odo having heard, he flung away his Virgil and all his serpents with it. And having been after that much devoted to St. Martin, though he met with no serpents in his way, as he went by night to St. Martin’s church to pray to him, he met with herds of foxes, which so pestered him, that he scarcely knew what to do; this plague continued until akind wolf came, and did offer Odo his assistance, and of which Odo having accepted, that wolf, when he travelled, was such a guard to him, and when he was within doors such a porter, that the foxes never molested him any more.”
The third order of monks in the Roman church was the Camalduman in Italy, instituted by Romualdus about the year 970. He was born at Ravenna, and had been sentenced to live 40 days in a monastery, for having been concerned in a duel, in which his father, who was a duke, had killed his adversary; and it was from this circumstance that he was miraculously converted into a monk, an honour which he had previously frequently refused, at the solicitation of a brother of the order with whom he had contracted an acquaintance. The monk at length asked whether he would consent to be one of them, ifSt. Apolonar appeared to him, to which he replied he would. It was therefore contrived that St. Apolonar, or his representative, should actually appear; and in order to receive this visit, his friend, the monk and himself, spent the night in prayer before an altar. Just as the cock crowed, St. Apolonar emerged from under the identical altar, where, no doubt, his proxy had previously been concealed, “clothed with light and having a golden censor in his hand: he went about in his pontificalibus, and incensed all the altars in the church, and after he had done that, went back by the same way that he came. And though it is not said that Apolonar did speak a word to Romualdus of turning monk, he did nevertheless, upon that vision, take the habit uponhim; and not having learnt to read and sing his psalter, he was taught it by a monk whose name was Marinus, and who switched him so severely on the left-side of his head, that his left ear lost its hearing; and which was borne with that cheerfulness, that he spoke to Marinus to switch him on the other side of the head, when he deserved to be corrected.”
Never was monk so kicked and cuffed about, persecuted and tormented by the Devil, as poor Romualdus. At first the Devil knocked such a dust at the door of his cell whenever he went to bed, that he could not get a wink of sleep for the noise. Being at length so much exhausted for want of a nap, he began, notwithstanding the horrid noise, to snooze a little, when the Devil turned himself into some heavy body and laid so heavy upon his thighs and legs, that he severely bruised them, and broke some of the bones. And though monk Romualdus often made his tormentor slink out of his cell, ashamed of his evil doings, he would, nevertheless, not cease to molest him. So frequently, in fact, was he visited by Armadeus, and so numerous were their conflicts, that a brother monk could not approach the cell of Romualdus without being mistaken for the Devil by him: and believing this to be the case, he would cry out as loud as his lungs would permit—“Accursed, what would’st thou have? Bold dog, I forbid thee to come here; thou poisonous serpent, that was thrown down from Heaven, I do forbid thee!” These were the weapons with which this miraculously converted monk had always ready to meet theDevil whenever he made his appearance. One evening, however, as he was muttering over hisCompletus, a whole squadron of Devils rushed in upon him, knocked him down, kicked him for falling, and inflicted several very severe wounds upon his precious body; and although he was weary and faint with loss of blood, he continued saying all the while hisCompletustill he completed, when by a short prayer he dispersed the whole battalion.
After this great and glorious victory, the Devil would never grapple with him again; but would, sometimes, in the shape of a Raven, a Bustard, an Ethiopian, or some savage beast, stand at a distance, loll out his tongue, and make wry faces at him. And although Romualdus was a bit of a duellist, as we have already shewn, would challenge and dare the Devil to come up to the mark, his devilship was too good a judge to venture near him; and finding at length that he was no match for Romualdus, he stirred up divers monks to persecute him, which, in fact, they did with great fury, but with as ill success as he who prompted them.
The fourth order of monks is that of theValle Umbrosa, instituted by one Gilbert, from whom his fraternity assumed the name of Gilbertines. The reader will at once know enough of this Mr. Gilbert when we inform him, at once, that he was the pupil of Romualdus, and that he was called to be a monk by a crucifix, which, when he was in the act of worshipping it, nodded its head and smiled at him.
The fifth order is the Carthusian, instituted towardsthe end of the eleventh century; it is governed by institutions of its own making, and is the strictest order in the Roman church. This monastery was generally the last refuge of the discontented, rather than the retreat of unfeigned piety and devotion, who threw themselves into this solitary state of life, to which they fettered themselves, by indissoluble vows, for the remainder of their days. They were allowed enough of good bread and wine, and although they abstained from flesh, and every thing that had touched it, they had a plentiful supply of good fish and fruit.
This inhuman order was instituted by one Bruno, a German, but who was a canon of the church of Rheims; of whom the reader will learn enough, when we inform him that he was driven to this determination by a Parisian doctor, with whom he had been intimately acquainted, and of whose piety as well as learning, he entertained a very high opinion, and who for three days following after his death, when he was on the point of being committed to the grave, sate up, and loudly declared,that by the just judgment of Godhe was damned; which, as soon as he had pronounced, he lay down again.[81]
There is another story that the bishop of Grenoble, the night beforeBrunoand his six companions came to him, in quest of a solitary place to live in, had a vision, in which he saw Christ come down from Heaven, and in a desert place of his diocese, called the Chartreuse, built a palace. He likewise beheld seven stars of the colour ofgold, which having joined themselves together, they made a crown, which by degrees raised itself from the earth, and ascended up into heaven. The bishop at first sight knew Bruno and his companions to be the seven stars he had seen; and in consequence of this recognition, he bestowed upon them all the lands called the Chartreuse. In order, also, that Bruno should be as little remiss in his duty and gratitude, he erected the monastery as conformable to the vision of the bishop as means and materials would allow.
The sixth order of monks in the Roman church is the Cistertian, said to have been instituted by Abbot Robert; but whether it was so or otherwise, Bernard has always been named as the founder.
Bernard was born in France in the 12th century; and to do him justice, he seems to have had the best natural parts, and the most learning of any of the monastic founders; and had it not been for the tragical fraud he adopted to promote a very unfortunatecruzado, and the other frauds he used in favour of the Pope, to whom he adhered during the time of a schism, his sincerity and piety might have been judged equal to his other talents.
His mother, during the time she was pregnant with him, dreamed she had a white dog in her womb, which in all probability was the reason the Cistertian monks dressed in white, in the same manner as Benedict’s raven might have suggested the colour to the vestments of the Benedictines.
During his infancy Bernard was much troubled with head-ach; and an old woman having beensent for to cure him, he would not suffer her to come near him, from the belief that she made use of charms. One Christmas-day, when he was at church, during his boyhood, he prayed that the very hour in which Christ was born might be revealed to him; and when that hour came, he saw a new-born infant. What a pity it is that Bernard, who has written so much, did not record that hour, the day, the month, and the year, about which chronologers are still so much divided.
During a hard frosty night, Bernard was seized with a violent paroxysm of satyriasis, or strong carnal inclination: he precipitated himself into a pond of water, and remained there until he was almost frozen to death.
On another occasion, during the time he was preaching to a very numerous congregation, who were listening to him, a temptation of vain glory invaded him, and he heard a voice within him saying,see, how all the people do attend unto your words. He was just going to leave off preaching to mortify this temptation, but perceiving it was the Devil who had addressed him, for the purpose of interrupting his sermon, he turned about his head to the tempter, and thus coolly spoke to him—As I did not begin this sermon for thee, so neither will I end it for thee, and so went on preaching as before. He was always very sickly, and not only rejoiced that he was so himself, but he judged it fit that all monks ought to be so: for which reason he builtClaraval, and all his other monasteries, in low damp places.
Bernard laboured hard to bring all his monks toan uninterrupted attention to their devotions; and having one day, as he was riding, been told by a peasant, “that he found that to be an easy thing;” he promised him the mule he rode upon, if he would but say the Lord’s prayer without any distraction of thought. The peasant began the prayer, but before he got half through it, he confessed that “it came into his mind, whether with the mule he was to have the saddle and bridle also.”
Being at Pavia, a woman possessed of a devil was brought before him; but before Bernard had time to utter a word to the woman, the devil cried out, “do you think that such an onion and leek carrier as this, is able to throw me out of possession?” Upon which Bernard ordered the woman to be carried to St. Sirus’ church, in which, though Sirus had previously dispossessed all that had ever come before him, he would not do it at this time, that Bernard might have the honour of it himself. The devil, however, set them both at defiance, and in a scoffing manner told them, that neither littleSirynor littleBarnyshould turn him out. But the devil was mistaken for once in his life; littleBarny, as he styled him, soon served an ejectment upon him. To another woman in the same city, on whom the devil had lain in a very dishonest manner, he gave a stick, with which she so belaboured him, that he never troubled her any more.
After Bernard had persuaded the kings of England and France to submit to the Pope; but not being able to prevail upon the Duke of Aquitaine,he went one day to him with the sacrament in his hand, when the Duke threw himself down at his feet; on which Bernard gave him a lusty kick, and bade him rise and acknowledge the true Pope. The Duke rose immediately, and being thus kicked into it, made his submission, and acknowledged theVicegerentof Heaven.
The seventh order of monks is the Cælestine, instituted by Petrus Moronus, who having afterwards become Pope, took the name of Cælestine. This poor monk was persuaded by Cardinal Cagestan, who took the name of Boniface the 8th, to abdicate the Roman chair, that he might spend his whole time in devotion. But his successor, Boniface, fearing that were he at liberty in his monastery, it might come into his head to return to the pontifical chair, kept him a close prisoner as long as he lived.
The eighth order of monks is the Williamite, called also the order ofMontes Virginis, and ofMontis Oliveti, instituted by one William, a noble Italian, which at one time possessed 47 monasteries. There wereHermitswho were likewise called Williamites, from William, Duke of Aquitaine, but they were amalgamated with the mendicant order of the monks of St. Austin.
The ninth order was the Sylvestern. There was also another instituted by the nobles of Milan, called theHumiliate, who having quarrelled with Cardinal Borromeus, Archbishop of Milan, dissolved the order and seized all their revenues, which were immense.
All the preceding orders, besides the Carthusians,were all under the Benedictine rule, whose monks were both the oldest and richest pertaining to the Roman church, in which the monastic rules are four in number—namely, the rule of St. Bazil, St. Austin, and St. Benedict.
The order of monks under St. Austin’s rule, as it was called, were the canons regular, thePremonstratenses; theDominicans; theHieronomites, in various shapes; theServites; theJesuits; theCrucigeri; theBoni Jesu; theTrinitarians; theEremites of St. Augustin; theTheatines; thePautestæ; themilitary orders of St. John of Jerusalem, ofSt. James of Compostella, of theTeutonick order, ofSt. Lazarus, and ofSt. Mauritius.
The Dominican order, of which only we shall here allude, is the third under the rule of St. Austin, was instituted about the beginning of the 13th century, and is both the first mendicant order and the first order that had a solemn confirmation from the Pope. They are very numerous, and have still many convents in Spain and Portugal.
Dominick, the founder of this order, was born in Spain, in 1170. His mother, when she was with child with him, dreamed that she was delivered of a hog, with a flaming torch in his mouth, an emblem appropriate enough for an inquisitor; and when he was baptized, his god mother, although it was visible to no one else, saw a star that illuminated all the world; and as he lay in his cradle, a swarm of bees pitched upon his lips. And, although from the day of his baptism to the day of his death, he is said never to have committed one mortal sin, he would, nevertheless, beforehe was seven years old, rise out of his costly bed, for his parents were said to have been very rich, and lie upon the ground. When he was a boy he would never play or use any pastimes; and when he arrived at man’s estate, he gave all that had been left him by his father, with the exception of his books, among the poor; and having nothing else left to give, he gave them his books also.
Seeing a woman one day weeping bitterly for the loss of her brother, who had been taken captive by the Moors, he begged her to take him, and to sell him to those infidels, and with the money he should fetch, redeem her brother; but, to his extreme mortification, the woman refused to comply with his desire.
One day, when Dominick was in his study, the devil so pestered him in the shape of a flea, leaping and frisking about on the leaves of his book, that he found it impossible to continue his reading: irritated at length by such unhandsome treatment, he fixed him on the very spot where he finished reading, and in this shape made use of him to find the place again. Having at last, however, released oldnickfrom this demonological dilemma, he appeared to him again in his study in the guise of a monkey, and grinned so “horribly a ghastly grin,” and skipped about so, that he was more annoyed now than before. To put a stop to these monkey tricks, Dominick forthwith commanded him, the said monkey, to take the candlestick and hold it for him; this the monkey did, and Dominick made him continue holding it,until it was burnt down to the bottom of the wick, and although the monkey made a horrid noise at burning his fingers, he was forced to hold it until it was burnt out, which it did until it had burnt the devil’s monkey fingers to the bone.
Having gone into France with the bishop of Osma, of whose church Dominick was a canon, though by preaching and working miracles he converted theAlbigensesabout Toulouse by thousands in a day, he, nevertheless, so roused Simon de Montford, who was general of the Pope’scruzadoagainst those christians, by which Montfort, and hiscruzado, to which Dominick was the chief chaplain, that many thousands of those poor christians were butchered.
That part of France must necessarily, at that time, have been very populous, otherwise there could not have been so many of those christians left for Montfort to murder, after Dominick had made such extensive conversions among them, for assuredly Montfort would not lay violent hands on any of his proselytes. The greatest conversion ever made by Dominick was after he had the rosary given him by the blessed virgin, whose virtues Dominick successfully eulogized with all the eloquence he was master of. There was one, however, desperate enough to ridicule both the rosary and the mountebank oratory upon its virtues; but he was soon punished for his audacity, by a great number of devils getting into him; but Dominick relenting at the sufferings of the demoniac, although he did not deserve such commiserationat his hands, called the devils to an account for the uproarious noise they made; when the following colloquy passed between them.
Dominick.—How came you to enter this man, and how many are you in number?
Devils.—(After tremendous howlings.) We came into him for having spoken disrespectfully of the rosary; and for his having laughed and made “merry game” of your sermons. We are 15,000 in number, and have been forced much against our inclination to enter one who might have done us infinite services.
Dom.—Why did so many as 15,000 of you enter him?
Dev.—Because there are 15 decads in the rosary which he derided.
Dom.—Why did you suffer this man to be brought to me?
Dev.—(All together roaring out.) It was done to our great confusion: we could not prevent it.
Dom.—Is not all true I have said of the virtues of the rosary?
Dev.—(After the most hideous bellowing.) Cursed be the hour in which we entered into thisstatue? Woe be unto us for ever! Why did we not suffocate him before he was brought hither? But it is now too late and we cannot do it, for thou holdest us in burning flames and chains of fire, so that we are forced to declare the truth to thee, to our great prejudice. O yes! O yes! Know all christian men and women, that this cruel Dominick, this implacable enemy of ours, has never said one word concerning the virtues of the rosarythat is not most true; and know ye further, that if you do not believe him, great calamities will befall you.
Dom.—Who was the man in the world the devil hated the most?
Dev.(All of them.) Thou art the very man, who, by thy prayers, and by thy severe ways of penance, and by thy sermons, hast shown the way to Paradise to every one, and hast snatched our prey. But know thou, that our dark congregation and infernal troop are so enraged against thee, that a brigade of the strongest and most mischievous spirits have a commission to fall upon thee and them.
Dom.(turning to the people.) God forbid, O Christians! that you should believe all that is said by the devils, who are liars, and inventors of lies. Not but that the Almighty is able to communicate so much strength to the vilest and most miserable sinner, as will overcome all infernal hosts, as you see I do at this time, who am the greatest of sinners.
Dev.—Cursed be so great humility as this, which tears and torments us so much.
Dom.(Throwing his stole, for he had not his scapulary yet, which has much more virtue, about the neck of the Demoniac.) Of which state of men among Christians are there the most damned?
Here an extraordinary circumstance took place, for no sooner had Dominick’s stole touched the neck of the demoniac than a great quantity of thick gory blood burst out at his nose, and a poisonousclay from his ears. At this sight, Dominick commanded the rebellious devils to desist from tormenting the poor sinner.
Dev.We will with all our heart, if ye will suffer us to depart.
Dom.Ye shall not stir until ye have answered the question put you.
Dev.In hell there are a great many bishops and princes, but not many country people, who, though not perfect, are not very great sinners. There are also a great many merchants, and townspeople, such as pawnbrokers, fraudulent bakers, grocers, Jews, apothecaries, gamblers, rakes, &c. who were sent there for covetousness, cheating, voluptuousness, &c.
Dom.Are there any priests or monks in Hell?
Dev.There are a great number of priests, but no monks, with the exception of such as had transgressed the rule of their order.
Dom.How are you off for Franciscans?
Dev.Alas! alas! we have not one yet, but we expect a great number of them after their devotion is a little cooled.
Dom.What saint in heaven does the devil fear most?
Instead of returning any answer to this question, the devils begged Dominick by all that was sacred to be satisfied with the torments he had already inflicted upon them, and with those to which they were condemned in hell, begging he would not insist upon a true answer to that question before so great a congregation, to the ruin of their kingdom; telling him, that if he would ask theangels they would tell him who it was. This, however, would not satisfy Dominick, who, whatever virtues he might have, had little mercy in his composition, especially, it would appear, towards devils. He persisted upon their telling; and, perceiving how reluctant the demons were to comply with his wishes, he threw himself upon the ground, and went to work, hammer and tongs, with his rosary; upon which sulphureous flames of fire burst forth from his nose, mouth, eyes and ears; after this above an hundred angels, clad in golden armour, appeared with the blessed virgin in the midst of them, holding a golden rod in her hand, with which she gave the demoniac a switch on the back, commanding, at the same time, the devils to return true answers to Dominick’s questions; at this they all roared out lustily,O our enemy! O our damner! O our confusion! Why didst thou come down from heaven to torment us here? Why art thou so powerful an intercessor for sinners? O thou most certain and secure way to heaven; but since thou commandest it, we must tell the truth, though it will confound us, and bring woe and misery on our princes of darkness for ever. Hear, O Christians, continued the devils, this mother of Christ is too powerful in preserving all her servants from hell; it is she that, as a sun, dissipates all our darkness,and enervates and brings to nought all our machinations. We are forced to confess that nobody is damned who perseveres in her holy worship, and is devoted to her. One sigh from her has more power than the prayers of all the saints; and we fear her more than all the citizens of Paradise;and you must all know, that vast numbers of Christians are, contrary to right, saved by calling upon her at the time of their death; and that we should long ago have destroyed the church, if it had not been for this little Mary; and being now forced to it, we must own, that none who persevere in the exercise of the rosary, can undergo the eternal torments of hell, for she obtains contrition for all her devout servants.
Here theconfabended between 15,000 cowardly devils, and Dominick, who exhorted the congregation to join with him in reciting the rosary: and behold a great miracle: at every angelical salutation, a multitude of devils rushed out of the demoniac in the shape of burning coals, and the blessed virgin having given the congregation her benediction, disappeared, leaving Dominick in quest of fresh enterprises against the devil and his horde.
Dominick was a proud designing man, and of a very ferocious disposition. The stories related of the St. Franciscan order, are equally absurd and ridiculous.
Similar stories are too numerous: we shall therefore close this subject with
We are informed by Alban Butler, that St. Simeon Stylites, the ycleped hermit of the pillar, astonished the whole Roman Empire by his mortifications. In the monastery of Heliodorus, aman 65 years of age, who had spent 62 years so abstracted from the world that he was ignorant of the most obvious things in it; the monks ate but once a day; Simeon joined the communities, and ate but once a week. Heliodorus required Simeon to be more private in his mortifications: “with this view,” says Butler, “judging the rough rope of the well, made of twisted palm tree leaves, a proper instrument of penance; Simeon tied it close about his naked body, where it remained unknown both to the community and his superior, till such time as it having ate into his flesh, what he had privately done was discovered by the effluvia proceeding from the wound.” Butler says, that it took three days to disengage the saint’s clothes, and that “the incisions of the physician, to cut the cord out of his body, were attended with such anguish and pain, that he lay for some time as dead.” After this he determined to pass the whole forty days of Lent in total abstinence, and retired to a hermitage for that purpose. Bassus, an abbot, left with him ten loaves and water, and coming to visit him at the end of the forty days, found both loaves and water untouched, and the saint stretched on the ground without signs of life. Bassus dipped a sponge in water, moistened his lips, gave him the eucharist, and Simeon by degrees swallowed a few lettuce leaves and other herbs. He passed twenty-six Lents in the same manner. In the first part of a Lent he prayed standing: growing weaker, he prayed sitting; and towards the end, being almost exhausted, he prayed lying on the ground. At the end of three yearshe left his hermitage for the top of a mountain, made an inclosure of loose stones, without a roof, and having resolved to live exposed to the inclemencies of the weather, he fixed his resolution by fastening his right leg to a rock with a great iron chain. Multitudes thronged to the mountain to receive his benediction, and many of the sick recovered their health. But as some were not satisfied unless they touched him in his enclosure, and Simeon desired retirement from the daily concourse, he projected a new and unprecedented manner of life. He erected a pillar six cubits high, (each cubit being eighteen inches,) and dwelt on it four years; on a second of twelve cubits high, he lived three years; on a third of twenty-two cubits high, ten years; and on a fourth, of forty cubits, or sixty feet high, which the people built for him, he spent the last twenty years of his life. This occasioned him to be calledStylites, from the Greek wordstylos, a pillar. This pillar did not exceed three feet in diameter at the top, so that he could not lie extended on it; he had no seat with him; he only stooped or leaned to take a little rest, and bowed his body in prayer so often, that a certain person who counted these positions, found that he made one thousand two hundred and forty-four reverences in one day, which if he began at four o’clock in the morning, and finished at eight o’clock at night, gives a bow to every three quarters of a minute; besides which, he exhorted the people twice a day. His garments were the skins of beasts; he wore an iron collar round his neck, and had a horrible ulcer in hisfoot. During his forty days’ abstinence throughout Lent, he tied himself to a pole. He treated himself as the outcast of the world and the worst of sinners, worked miracles, delivered prophecies, had the sacrament delivered to him on the pillar, and died bowing upon it, in the sixty-ninth of his age, after having lived upon pillars for six and thirty years. His corpse was carried to Antioch attended by the bishops and the whole country, and worked miracles on its way. So far this account is from Alban Butler.
Without mentioning circumstances and miracles in the Golden Legend, which are too numerous, and some not fit to be related; it may be observed, that it is there affirmed of him, that after his residence on the pillars, one of his thighs rotted a whole year, during which time he stood on one leg only. Near Simeon’s pillar was the dwelling of a dragon, so very venemous that nothing grew near his cave. This dragon met with an accident; he had a stake in his eye, and coming all blind to the saint’s pillar, and placing his eye upon it for three days, without doing harm to any one, Simeon ordered earth and water to be placed on the dragon’s eye, which being done, out came the stake, a cubit in length; when the people saw this miracle, they glorified God, and ran away for fear of the dragon, who arose and adored for two hours, and returned to his cave. A woman swallowed a little serpent, which tormented her for many years, till she came to Simeon, who causing earth and water to be laid on her mouth, the little serpent came out four feetand a half long. It is affirmed by the Golden Legend, that when Simeon died, Anthony smelt a precious odour proceeding from his body; that the birds cried so much, that both men and beasts cried; that an angel came down in a cloud; that the Patriarch of Antioch, taking Simeon’s beard to put among his relics, his hand withered, and remained so, till multitudes of prayers were said for him, and it was healed; and that more miracles were worked at and after Simeon’s sepulture, than he had wrought all his life.