heart for fear, and afterward upon love. For first it is grieved and weepeth, because, calling to mind former sins committed, it feareth to endure for punishment of them everlasting torments: but when long anxiety and sorrow hath banished away that fear, then a certain security of the hope of pardon doth follow: and so the soul is inflamed with the love of heavenly delights, and whereas before it did weep for fear of eternal pain, after- ward it poureth out tears, that it is kept from everlasting joys. For the soul doth then contemplate those glittering quires of Angels, that heavenly company of those blessed spirits, that great majesty of the eternal beholding the face of God; and doth lament so much more now, because it wanteth that everlasting felicity, than it wept before at the fear of eternal punishment. Which thing in scripture is mystically set down, in an holy and true history: for there we read how Axa, the daughter of Caleb, riding upon an ass^ did sigh: and when her father demanded what the matter was, she answered him thus: Qive me your blessings a southern and dry land you have given me^join also a watery: and he gave her a watery ground above and beneath?- For Axa then rideth upon the ass, when our soul doth subdue and govern the sensual motions of the flesh: which sighing doth crave wet ground of her father, when it doth with con- trition and sorrow of heart desire of our Creator the grace of tears and weeping. For some there be, upon whom God hath bestowed such a gift, that they will speak freely in defence of justice, help them that be oppressed, give alms to the poor, and be zealous in religion, but yet have they not obtained the grace of tears: these be they, that have ground towards the south, and that which is dry: but yet do they want that which is moist and wet: because, albeit they be diligent and fervent in good works, yet requisite it is amantius of Cuscania that they should also, either for fear of hell or the love of heaven, bewail the sins of their life past. But because, as 1 said, there be two kinds of compunction, therefore her father gave her that which was wet above and also wet beneath: for our soul doth then receive that which is wet above, when it is grieved, and doth weep for the desire of heaven; and it doth then possess that which is wet beneath, when it is afraid, and poureth forth tears for the fear of hell fire: and albeit that which is wet beneath is bestowed upon our soul, before that which is wet above, yet because the compunction of love is the more excellent, convenient it was that the ground which was wet above should be first named, and after- ward that which was wet beneath, ipeter. Your discourse pleaseth me very well: but seeing you have now told me of that reverent man Eleutherius, and his great grace of compunction, desirous 1 am to know whether there be now any such men living in the world.
Cfmptet ebittgsfitoe: of amantius, a priest in tpe IPtotiince of Cuscania. <1 ®rcgorp. Fioridus, Bishop of Tivoli, a man (as yourself knoweth very well) of holy life, and worthy to be credited, told me that he had dwelling with him a certain Priest called Amantius, of marvellous simplicity: who, like unto the Apostles, had such a grace given him of God, that, laying his hand upon them that were sick, he restored them to their former health; and although the disease were very great and dangerous, yet upon his touching did it forthwith depart. Moreover he said that he had also this miraculous gift, that wheresoever he found any serpents or snakes, though never so cruel, yet did he with the sign of the cross dis- patch and kill them: for by virtue of the cross, which the man of God made with his hand, their bowels did break, and they suddenly die: and if by chance the snake gat into any hole, then did he with the sign of the cross bless the mouth thereof, and it wrought the same effect; for any might straightways find it there dead. Myself having understanding of this great grace bestowed upon him, was desirous to see him: and when he was brought unto me, I caused him to be lodged in a chamber amongst the sick men: thereby to try what his gift was in curing of diseases. At that time, there was one amongst them be- side himself, being fallen into a phrensy: who one night did so cry out like a mad man, that with his noise he dis- quieted all the rest that were sick, so that they could not sleep or take any rest: and so it fell out very strangely that, one being ill, all the rest fared the worse. But as I had before learned of the reverent Bishop Floridus, who was at that time there present with the said Priest, and afterward also plainly understood of him that at- tended that night upon the sick persons, the foresaid venerable Priest, rising out of his bed, went softly to the place where the mad man lay, and there prayed, laying his hands upon him; whereupon the man became somewhat better. Then he carried him away unto the higher part of the house, into the oratory: where more plentifully he prayed unto God for his recovery: and straight after he brought him back again to his own bed safe and sound, so that he cried out no more, neither troubled any of the other sick persons. By which one fact of his, I had sufficient reason to give credit to all the rest that before had been told me.
Petet* A great edification it is, to see men working such notable miracles: and to behold, as it were upon earth, heavenly Jerusalem in her citizens.
Cfmptet of a@arimtanu 0, TBisftop of §>J?taCU0t0. «I ©tegotp* Neither is that miracle to be passed over with silence, which almighty God vouchsafed to work by his servant Maximianus, now Bishop of Syracusis, but then the father and governor of mine Abbey. For at such time as I was, upon the commandagarimianus of §>pracusis ment of my Bishop, sent to Constantinople to the Em- peror, about affairs of the Church, the same reverent man, Maximianus upon charity, with other of his monks, came thither unto me: who in his return homeward to Rome, fell into a great tempest upon the Adriake sea: in which both himself and all those that were in his company, after a most strange and miraculous manner, tasted both of the indignation and favour of almighty God. For the sea did so rage with the fury of the winds, that they had spent their mast: the sails floated upon the waves: and the ship, beaten and torn with boisterous billows, did leak water so fast, that it was now come to the upper deck, in such sort that the ship seemed not so much to be in the waters, as the waters in the ship.
The mariners and passengers, troubled with the fear of death, not as a thing far off, but even present before their eyes, void of all hope of this life, prepared themselves for the next: and so, mutually giving the pax or kiss of peace one to another, they received the body and blood of our Saviour: commending themselves to almighty God, that he would vouchsafe mercifully to receive their souls, who had delivered their bodies to so fearful a death: but God, who had wonderfully terrified their minds, did more wonderfully preserve their lives. For the same ship although full of water, yet did it hold on her course for eight days together, and upon the ninth, it arrived at the port of Cothronum: and when all the rest were safely gone out, then last of all the reverent man Maximianus went also forth: and no sooner was he upon land, than the ship sunk in the haven: as though, by their departure, it had wanted that which did preserve it: and whereas before, being at sea, it was full of men, and carried also abundance of water, and yet sailed onward: now when Maximianus with his monks were landed, it could not in the haven carry the waters alone: whereby God gave them to understand, that, when it was laden, himself Cfce Dialogues of <©regotp with his divine hand did govern and preserve it: seeing when it was empty it could not for a small time continue above the water.
Chapter Ciurt^seuen: of Sanctulus, a priest in t&ePtOOince Of Jftutsia. <1 About forty days since, you saw with me one called Sanctulus, a reverent Priest, who every year came unto me out of Nursia: but three days ago, a certain monk, coming from those parts, brought me very heavy news of his death. The holy life and virtue of which man was such, that although I can not but fetch sweet sighs when I remember it, yet now I may without all fear report and publish to the world such miracles as I have learned by the relation of very virtuous and holy Priests, that were his neighbours: and as amongst dear friends familiarity causeth one to presume much in charity, oftentimes myself did so courteously urge him, that he was enforced to tell me some small miracles which himself had done.
Certain Lombards being upon a time pressing of olives to make oil, Sanctulus, as he was both merry in coun- tenance and heart, came unto them, and saluted them pleasantly: and shewing them his bottle which he brought, rather willed than desired them to fill it with oil. But they being infidels, and having laboured all day in vain, and not pressed out any oil at all, took his words in ill part, and gave him very bad speech: but the man of God, notwithstanding this, spake unto them yet with a more merry countenance, and said: cc If you desire to do me a good turn, you will fill this bottle for Sanctulus, and so he will depart from you very well contented.” But they, seeing no oil to run forth, and hearing him yet for all that so earnest to have his bottle filled, fell into a great rage, and railed mightily upon him. Then the man of God, seeing that no oil came from the press, called for water, which he blessed before them all, and with his own hands cast it upon the press: and forthwith, by virtue ^anctulu# of jftursta of that benediction, such plenty of oil ran forth, that the Lombards, who before had long laboured in vain, did not only fill their own vessels, but also his bottle: giving him thanks for that, coming to beg oil, by his blessing he be- stowed that upon them which himself had demanded.
At another time, when a great dearth was in the country, the man of God being desirous to repair the church of St. Lawrence, burnt before by the Lombards, he hired for that end many cunning workmen and divers other labourers, who of necessity were daily to be main- tained: but so great was the scarcity, that he wanted bread to relieve them; whereupon his workmen cried out for meat, because they were faint and could not labour. The man of God, hearing this, gave them comfortable words, promising to supply their want; yet inwardly very much was he grieved, being not able to perform what he had said. Going therefore up and down in great anxiety, he came to an oven, wherein the neighbours that dwelt by had the day before baked bread: and stooping down, he looked in, to see whether they had by chance left any bread behind them, where he found a loaf both greater and whiter than commonly they used: which he took away, but yet would he not by and by give it to his workmen, lest perhaps it belonged to some other body, and so might as it were, of compassion to other, have committed a sin himself: and therefore he did first shew it to all the women there about, enquiring whether it were any of theirs: but all denied it, saying that they had all received their just number of loaves. Then the man of God in great joy went with that one loaf to many workmen, wishing them to give thanks to almighty God, telling them how his goodness had provided them of necessary food; and forthwith he set that loaf before them, whereof, when they had satisfied themselves, he gathered up more pieces of bread which remained, than the whole loaf itself was before in quantity. The day C&e Dialogues of &t, <Steg orp following, again he set it before them, and again the pieces remaining were far more than the former frag- ments: and so, for the space of ten days together, all those artificers and workmen lived upon that one loaf, and were very well satisfied: some thing remaining every day for the next, as though the fragments had by eating increased.
peter. a strange thing, and not unlike to that notable miracle of our Saviour; and therefore worthy to be admired of all.
<2)tE0 Otjh Our Saviour at this time, Peter, vouchsafed by his servant to feed many with one loaf, who in times past, by himself, fed five thousand with five loaves: and doth daily of a few grains of corn produce innumerable ears of wheat: who also out of the earth brought forth those very grains; and more than all this, created all things of nothing. But to the end you should not marvel any longer, what by God’s assistance the venerable man Sanctulus wrought outwardly: I will now tell you what, by our Lord’s grace, he was inwardly in his soul. Upon a certain day, the Lombards had taken a Deacon, whom they kept in prison, with a purpose to put him to death. When evening was come, the man of God, Sanctulus, entreated them to set him at liberty, and to grant him his life: but when he saw that he could not obtain that favour at their hands, but that they were fully resolved to have his life: then he beseeched them, that they would at least commit him to his keeping: wherewith they were content, but with this condition, that if he scaped away, that then himself should die for him. The man of God was very well content, and so he received the Deacon into his own charge and custody.
The midnight following, when he saw all the Lombards fast asleep, he called up the Deacon, willing him quickly to rise up and to run away as fast as he could: “ and almighty God,” quoth he, “deliver thee out of their ^anctulu# of jftuwia hands.” To whom the Deacon (knowing what he had pro- mised) said: “Father, I can not run away, for if I do, out of all doubt they will put you to death.” Yet for all this, Sanctulus enforced him to be gone with all speed, saying: “Up, and away: and God of his goodness defend and protect you: for I am in his hands, and they can do no more unto me than his divine Majesty shall give them leave.” Upon these words away went the Deacon; and he that had undertaken his safe keeping, as one that had been deceived, remained behind.
In the morning the Lombards demanded of Sanctulus for their prisoner: who told them that he was run away. “Then,” quoth they, “ you best know what is convenient for you to have.” “Yea, marry, that do I,” answered the servant of God, with great constancy. “Well,” quoth they, “ thou art a good man, and therefore we will not by divers torments take away thy life; but make choice of what death thou wilt.” To whom the man of God answered in this manner: “Here I am, at God’s dis- position and pleasure, kill me in such sort, as he shall vouchsafe to give you leave.” Then all the Lombards that were present agreed to have him beheaded: to the end an easy and quick death might soon dispatch him. When it was given out abroad that Sanctulus was to die, whom for his virtue and holiness they greatly honoured, all the Lombards that were in those parts repaired thither, being glad (such cruel minds they have) to behold him put to death: and when all the army was gathered together, they brought him forth to execution, and the strongest man amongst them was chosen out, to cut off his head at one blow.
The venerable man, beset with armed soldiers, betook himself to his usual weapons: for he desired them to give him a little leave to pray: which when he had obtained, he cast himself prostrate upon the earth, and fell to his devotions: in which after he had continued for a good Cfje Dialogues of ©tegotp space, the executioner spurned him up with his foot, bidding him rise, kneel down, and to prepare himself for death. The man of God rose up, bowed down his knee, and held forth his head, and beholding the drawn sword ready to dispatch him, these only words they said that he spake aloud: “O Saint John, hold that sword.” Then the foresaid executioner, having the naked weapon in his hand, did with all his force lift up his arm to strike off his head; but by no means could he bring it down again, for it became suddenly so stiff that it remained still above, the man being not able once to bend it down- ward. Then all the Lombards who came to feed their eyes with the lamentable sight of his death, began with admiration to praise God’s name, and with fear to reve- rence the man of God: for they now saw apparently of what great holiness he was, that did so miraculously stay the arm of his executioner above in the air.
Then they desired him to rise up, which he did; but when they required him to restore his executioner’s arm to his former state, he utterly refused, saying: “By no means will I once pray for him, unless beforehand he swear unto me, that he will never with that arm offer to kill any Christian more.” The poor Lombard, who, as we may truly say, had stretched out his arm against God, enforced with this necessity, took an oath never more to put any Christian to death. Then the man of God commanded him to put down his arm, which forthwith he did; he commanded him also to put up his sword, which in like manner he performed. All the Lombards, by this perceiving him to be a man of rare virtue, began in all haste to present him with the gifts of such oxen and other cattle as before they had taken from others: but the man of God utterly refused all such kind of presents, desiring them rather, if they meant to bestow anything upon him worth the giving, that they would deliver unto him all such prisoners as they had in their Sanctulus of jftutsia keeping: that he might have some cause in his prayers to commend them to almighty God. To which request of his they condescended, and so all the poor captives were discharged: and thus, by God’s sweet providence, one offering himself to die for another, many were delivered from death.
Peter, a strange thing it was: and although I have heard the same story by the relation of others, yet I cannot deny, but so often as I hear it repeated, it seemeth still unto me as though it were fresh news.
©regorp* There is no cause why you should admire Sanctulus for this thing: but ponder with yourself, if you can, what manner of spirit that was, which possessed his simple soul, and did advance it to so high a perfection of virtue. For where was his mind, when he offered himself with such constancy to die for his neighbour; and to save the temporal life of his brother, contemned his own, and put his head under the executioner’s sword? What force of true love did then harbour in that heart, when he nothing feared death to preserve the life of another? Ignorant I am not, that this venerable man Sanctulus could scant read well, and that he knew not the precepts of the law: yet because charity is the fulfilling of the law, by loving God and his neighbour, he kept the whole law: and that which outwardly lacked in knowledge, did inwardly by charity live in his soul. And he, perhaps, who never read that which St. John the Apostle said of our Saviour, to wit, that as he yielded his life forus y so we likewise should yield our lives for our brethren: x yet that great and high precept of the Apostle he knew more by action than by speculation. Let us here, if you please, compare his learned ignorance with our unlearned knowledge: where our kind of learning is nothing worth, his is of great price and estimation: we, destitute of virtue, do speak thereof, and, as it were in the midst of plentiful €be Dialogues of St ©regorp trees smell of the fruit, but do not eat thereof. He knew full well how to gather and taste of the fruit itself, although he lacked the smell of words and vain speech. IPetet What, I pray, do you think, is the cause that good men are still taken away; and such as for the bene- fit and edification of many, might live still in this world, either are not to be found at all, or at least very few can be heard of?
(JptCgOQh The malice and wickedness of them that re- main behind in the world deserveth that those should quickly be taken away, who by their life might much help us: and for as much as the world draweth towards an end, God’s chosen servants are taken out of it, that they fall not into more wicked times: and therefore from hence it cometh that the prophet saith: The just man doth perish, and there is none that doth ponder it in his heart: and men of mercy are gathered together, because there is none that hath understanding} And from hence also it proceedeth that the scripture saith: Open ye, that they may go forth which do tread it under foot? Hence, likewise, it is that Solomon saith: There is a time of casting stones abroad, and a time of gathering them together? And therefore the nearer that the world draweth to an end, so much the more necessary it is that the living stones should be gathered together, for the heavenly building: that our celestial Jerusalem may arrive to the full measure of his whole perfection. And yet do I not think that all God’s elect servants are so taken out of the world, that none but the wicked remain behind: for sinners would never be con- verted to the sorrow of true penance, if they had not the examples of some good people to provoke them forward.
IPetet* Without cause do I complain of the death of good men, when as daily I see them also that be wicked in great numbers to depart this life.
3 Eccles. 3, 5.
KeDemptus of JFetenti Chapter Cfrtrtg^igfct: of the Piston of EeDemptus, IBispopof the Citg of JTetentf. «I ©regotg. Wonder nothing at this, Peter, for you knew very well Redemptus, Bishop of the city of Ferenti, a man of venerable life, who died almost seven years since: with whom I had familiar acquaintance, by reason that he dwelt not far from the Abbey in which I lived. This man, when I asked him (for the matter was very well known far and near), told me that which by divine revelation he had learned con- cerning the end of the world, in the time of John the younger, who was my predecessor. For he said that upon a certain day, as he was, according to his manner, visit- ing of his diocese, he came to the church of the blessed martyr Euthicius: and when it was night he would needs be lodged nigh to the sepulchre of the martyr, where after his travel he reposed himself. About midnight, being, as he said himself, neither perfectly waking, nor yet sleeping, but rather heavy of sleep, he felt his waking soul oppressed with great sorrow: and being in that case, he saw the same blessed martyr Euthicius standing before him, who spake thus: “ Art thou waking, Redemptus? ” to whom he answered, that he was. Then the martyr said: “The end of all flesh is come: the end of all flesh is come”: which words after he had repeated thus three times, he vanished out of his sight.
,L Then the man of God rose up, and fell to his prayers with many tears: and straight after, those fearful sights in heaven followed; to wit, fiery lances, and armies appearing from the north. Straight after likewise the barbarous and cruel nation of the Lombards, drawn as a sword out of a sheath, left their own country, and invaded ours: by reason whereof the people, which before for the huge multitude were like to thick corn-fields, remain now withered and overthrown: for cities be wasted, towns and villages spoiled, churches burnt, monasteries of men and women destroyed, farms left desolate, and the country £fje Dialogues of @>t (Sregorp remaineth solitary and void of men to till the ground, and destitute of all inhabitants: beasts possessing those places, where before great plenty of men did dwell. And how it goeth in other parts of the world I know not, but here in this place where we live, the world doth not fore- tell any end, but rather sheweth that which is present and already come. Wherefore so much the more zealously ought we to seek after eternal things, by how much we find all temporal so quickly to be fled and gone. Surely this world were to be contemned, although it did flatter us, and with pleasant prosperity contented our mind: but now, seeing it is fraught with so many miseries and divers afflictions, and that our sorrows and crosses do daily increase and be doubled, what doth it else but cry unto us that we should not love it?, Many more things yet remain of the worthy acts of God’s servants, but because I have resolved now upon another course, I will now pass them over with silence. IPCtCt* For as much as I perceive that many Christians do doubt of the immortality of the soul, after the disso- lution of the body: I beseech you for the spiritual good of many, to set down some reasons for proof thereof: or the examples of some souls which have testified the same, if you remember any: to the end that those which be troubled with any such temptations, may learn that the soul doth not die together with the body.
<£>tBgOtp* This is a work of great labour, especially for one that is busied with other affairs, and hath other things to attend unto: yet if any profit by my means may redound to others, willingly do I prefer that before mine own will and pleasure: and therefore, God’s grace assist- ing me, in this fourth book following, I will clearly show that the soul doth live after the death of the body.
€f )t enD of t be CbiftJ IBook Cl)e ^Dialogues of dSregorp Cfje JFourtfj Hoofe Clje JFourrh tSooh Chapter ffl)ne: boto carnal men giue the less crcDit to those things tohich he eternal anD spiritual: because the? fcnoto not bp erperience, topat tbep hear Others to Speak Of, <1 After that the first Parent of mankind was for his sin banished from the joys of Paradise, he fell into the misery of this ignorance and banishment, which to this very day we do all endure: for his sin was the cause that he could not any longer see those joys of heaven, which before by contemplation he possessed: for during the time of his residence in Paradise, he usually heard God talking with him, and by purity of heart and heavenly vision, was present with the quires of the blessed Angels. But after his fall he lost that light of soul, which before abundantly he enjoyed. From whom we being by carnal propagation derived, that live now in this dark ignorance of banishment, do hear indeed of an heavenly country, and how it is inhabited by the Angels of God; and that the souls of just and perfect men do there keep them company. But yet such as be carnal, because they can not by experience know those invisible creatures, doubt whether there be any such, seeing with their corporal eyes they cannot behold them: from which doubt our first Parent was altogether free: for although he was exiled from the joys of Paradise, yet did he still keep in memory what he had lost, because he had before beheld the same: but these men can not by any means call to mind such things as they hear others speak of, because they never had of them any former experience as our first father Adam had. For it is in this case as if a woman big with child should be put in prison, and be there delivered of a son, which never went forth, but were there continually brought up: for if his mother should tell him of the sun, moon, stars, mountains: and speak of the fields, the flying of birds, and running of horses; her child, that had continually been brought up in the prison, and acquainted with nothing else but black darkness, might well hear what she said, but with a doubt whether it were true or no, because experience taught him not any such thing. Even so, men that are born in this dark world, the place of their banishment, do hear that there be wonderful, strange, and invisible things: but because they are not acquainted with any else but terrestrial creatures, which only be visible, they doubt whether there be any such invisible things as are reported of, or no: for which cause the Creator himself of all things both visible and invisible, and the only begotten Son of the eternal Father, came into this world, for the redemption of mankind: and sent the holy Ghost unto our hearts, that quickened by him and his grace, we should believe those things which as yet by sense or experience we cannot possibly under- stand: and therefore so many of us as have received this spirit, the heavenly pledge of our inheritance, make no doubt of God’s invisible and immortal creatures: and whosoever as yet is not settled in this belief, out of all question, he ought of reason to give credit to the words of them that be more learned and holy, and believe them that, through the grace of God’s holy Spirit, have experience of those things that be invisible: for he were a very foolish child, that thought his mother lied, when she spake of light in other places, because himself, where he was, beheld nothing else but the darkness of the prison.
That you say doth wonderfully content me: yet he who believeth not that there be any invisible things, out of question in mine opinion is an infidel: and he that is an infidel, in that thing whereof he doubteth seeketh not for faith, but for reason, Cfmptet Ctoo: that an infiDel Itoetf) not toittjout faitfh ©tCffOtp* I speak boldly yet truly, that an infidel liveth not without faith: for if I demand of him, who is his father or mother, straightways he will tell me, such a man and such a woman: and if I press him further, whether he doth remember the time when he was first conceived, or the hour when he was born into this world, he will answer me, that he never knew or saw any such thing: and yet for all this doth he believe that which he never beheld, seeing he believeth, without all doubt, that such a man was his father, and such a woman his mother.
Wtttx. i must needs confess, that I never knew before this time that an infidel had any faith.
Infidels have faith, but not in God, for then they were not infidels: but worthily are they by the former reason to be blamed, and thereby also to be pro- voked to embrace true faith: for if concerning their visible body, they believe that which they never saw, why do they not also believe some things which with their cor- poral eyes they cannot behold?
Chapter Cfrree: tfrat <£>oo createD tfrree feinDs of ^