Part 28

There is another story that the bishop of Grenoble, the night before _Bruno_ and 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 of gold, 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 unfortunate _cruzado_, 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 been sent 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 built _Claraval_, and all his other monasteries, in low damp places.

Bernard laboured hard to bring all his monks to an 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 little _Siry_ nor little _Barny_ should turn him out. But the devil was mistaken for once in his life; little _Barny_, 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 the _Vicegerent_ of 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 of _Montes Virginis_, and of _Montis Oliveti_, instituted by one William, a noble Italian, which at one time possessed 47 monasteries. There were _Hermits_ who 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 the _Humiliate_, 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, the _Premonstratenses_; the _Dominicans_; the _Hieronomites_, in various shapes; the _Servites_; the _Jesuits_; the _Crucigeri_; the _Boni Jesu_; the _Trinitarians_; the _Eremites of St. Augustin_; the _Theatines_; the _Pautestæ_; the _military orders of St. John of Jerusalem_, of _St. James of Compostella_, of the _Teutonick order_, of _St. Lazarus_, and of _St. 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, before he 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 old _nick_ from 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 the _Albigenses_ about Toulouse by thousands in a day, he, nevertheless, so roused Simon de Montford, who was general of the Pope’s _cruzado_ against those christians, by which Montfort, and his _cruzado_, 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 commiseration at 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 this _statue_? 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 rosary that 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 poisonous clay 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 the angels 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 the _confab_ ended 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

_The Hermit of the Pillar._ (_St. Simeon Stylites, St. Telesephorus, St. Syncletia._)

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, a man 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 years he 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 called _Stylites_, from the Greek word _stylos_, 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 his foot. 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 feet and 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.

HOLY RELIQUE-MANIA.