Vita

In the year of the Lord 640. Saint Sulpicius, surnamed the Pious, Bishop of Bourges. The Life of Saint Sulpicius the Pious, by an anonymous Sulpician monk, nearly a contemporary. (From Mabillon, Acts of the Benedictine Saints, from manuscript codices, and from John Bolland.) PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS Besides Sulpicius surnamed Severus, Bishop of Bourges, whom some mistakenly confuse with Severus Sulpicius, the disciple of Saint Martin, the Church of Bourges had another bishop named Sulpicius, called the Pious, whose Life we present here. The former flourished at the end of the sixth century, the latter at the beginning of the seventh century. Two contemporary writers committed the Life of Sulpicius the Pious to writing: one, more extensive, a monk of the monastery built by Sulpicius, who repeatedly calls him his patron; the other, more concise, whom we will therefore call the abbreviator. John Bolland published both, under January. We will give only the former here, noting in its place if anything worthy of observation occurs in the other. The Sulpician monk indicates his own age in numbers 4, 11, 16, and 32, and to the Life he wrote he added a book of Miracles, which he had promised at the end of the Life of Saint Sulpicius, although the metrically falling and often languid style of the book of Miracles seems to suggest a completely different author, as does the prologue prefixed to the Life, which is missing in very many manuscripts.

The writer of the history of the Patriarchate of Bourges affirms that five books on the Life and Miracles of Saint Sulpicius himself are preserved in the archives of the treasury of the cathedral church of Bourges; nor should you think the author to be other than our own, whose work we note is divided into five books in some copies, as may be observed noted in the margin. John Ferdinand, a Benedictine monk, embellished the work of the Sulpician monk, praised by Trithemius in his book On Ecclesiastical Writers, and inserted into the Patriarchate of Bourges, chapter 31, from whom we will borrow some passages for illustrating the anonymous author. We pass over Vincent of Beauvais and Saint Anthony, who together with many moderns have treated of Saint Sulpicius. Usuardus and Ado commend Sulpicius in their Martyrologies on the sixteenth day before the Kalends of February. The words of Ado are to be noted: At Bourges, the deposition of blessed Sulpicius, bishop and confessor, who, educated in letters from boyhood and conspicuous for the light of his holy life, shone with virtues even as a layman. Later, having put aside his hair, he became a father of monks, and then, advanced to the episcopal chair, he rested in peace, renowned for his life. Indeed, Sulpicius was abbot of Castrum, in charge of the monks who performed the divine offices night and day in the royal camps.

Sulpicius was therefore a monk, both before and after his episcopate; for he laid aside the pastoral office some years before his death, in order to devote himself more freely to God in the monastery of Navis which he had founded. But of what rule, in the end, was he a monk? Those who obstinately maintain that the rule of Saint Columbanus was a departure from the Benedictine throughout that entire century will not easily wrest Sulpicius from us. In the time of Abbot Waldebert of Luxeuil, and consequently of Sulpicius, monasteries were founded according to the rule of Saints Benedict and Columbanus alone, as the grave and contemporary writer of the Life of Saint Salaberga testifies. Jonas, a monk of Bobbio, in the Life of Abbot Saint Eustasius, related above to the year, when he enumerates the monasteries built at Bourges according to the prescription of Saint Columbanus, makes no mention of the monastery of Navis or Sulpicius then in existence, evidently because it obeyed the genuine and pure institutes of Saint Benedict.

PROLOGUE OF THE AUTHOR. With the radiant and shining assembly with which the hall of the Church is filled by the gift of the eternal emperor on account of the merits of the nurturing bishop, the lamp of the virtues gleaming, even if we can speak less worthily of what is fitting, yet we attempt to bring a modest discourse to the ears of the devoted people, especially since it is to the benefit of the hearers to recount the deeds of faithful men with the pen for the memory of the peoples. And although the just man has no need of mortal letters, whose name is already contained in the heavenly page, yet the increase of faith grows while recent examples of the saints are repeated, since both the pastor, enclosed in paradise, is represented to the Christian flock by the pen on earth, and the flock, summoned by examples, directs its step toward the heavens, so that, according to the oracle of Daniel (Dan. 12:5), both the people, taught by the master’s instruction, may shine like the splendor of the firmament, and the teacher may gleam with the accumulated light of the stars for himself, especially since, for the declaration of his merit in the vast orb of Gaul among the frequent material of virtues, by the notable gift of Christ at his sacred body a fountain of oil continually overflows with heavenly dew, and thus the fire perpetually takes fuel, so that by the infusion of the Holy Spirit the liquid continuously increases. For that prudent man, although death extinguished his little body by the debt of nature, yet living miracles shine forth from his tomb.

Here begins the book. The blessed Sulpicius, then, born of illustrious parents, among the foremost citizens and raised in the royal court, was the distinguished pastor of the city of Bituricae, and now by his glorious departure has become its patron. In the flower of early youth, having broken the snares of the world, he took up the service of Christ with a steadfast resolve, and the blessed man, while still a boy, burned so greatly with the purpose of embracing religion that, if the time of persecution had not been lacking, he would have willingly thrust himself into dangers. From that time on, he began to devote himself to the reading of the divine volumes and to exercise himself tirelessly in the teachings of the faith. Finally, to restrain youthful desires and to attain the advances of wisdom, he bound himself with the reins of prayers and abstinence; and the ecclesiastical rule was so honorable to him in observance from his very cradle that he not only converted the crowds of many young men and old men flocking to him and inquiring about the religion of our faith, but also instructed them in the institutions of the perfect life.

It was, however, manifest that divine grace was with him, by which he roused countless people to imitate him in faith in God. Before all else, he held that the evangelical precepts and the voice of the Savior were to be fulfilled with the highest love and zeal. For although he might have seemed youthful and perhaps of less perfect understanding, yet, containing a sign of most perfect chastity, he placed it as a kind of first foundation in his soul. And only then did he proceed to build the remaining virtues upon this, and according, of course, to the faith of the Gospels, by which the exhortation of the Savior’s voice is set forth, because there are eunuchs who have castrated themselves for the kingdom of God (Matthew 19:12), he spurned the bond of marriage and maintained his resolve of chastity. Certainly, as far as we have learned from the account of those who were his companions or servants from boyhood up to our own times, while he was still placed in a secular habit, he seemed to do nothing other than build monasteries, raise up basilicas, restore ruined churches with new work, bring aid to the wretched, supply necessities from his own resources to the poor and needy, and free many from chains, punishments, and squalor—not only by his speech and exhortation of perfect and spiritual doctrine, but by his own services and ministrations.

There was a certain church not far from his parents' home, almost completely ruined by enemies, where there was no gathering of clergy or people. There, since the blessed man's frequent gains from prayer were occurring, avoiding as he did any touch of boastfulness, when the deep silences of night fell, clothed in the garments which penitents are accustomed to use, armed with sacred prayers, he would go to spend the night, and with holy labor, spurning idle sleep, after the sweet meditation was completed, when the splendor of rosy light illuminated the world, he would again be adorned with secular coverings, and thus he would labor to conceal his holy purpose. These were his first childish beginnings, this was the play of his infancy, such was the affection for the Lord that grew with him in his youth. One night in the church of which we have spoken, while he was keeping vigil with two boys and bending forward in prayer, when the whole delight of his mind was absorbed in deeper things, two utterly dreadful spirits, monstrous, resembling the faces of Ethiopians, having seized the boys individually, were violently trying to drag them from the church. Finally the man of God found his own behind him, wailing with loud cries. He looks at the dark ones, raises his hand against the adversaries, and as they were already dragging the boys away and were about to snatch them outside in their exit, the priest of God brings forth the banner of the cross. Immediately, the dark and bloody ones slipped away, and the boys remained safe and sound.

From that time onward, that emulator of all goodness, enemy of truth, and foe of human salvation, turning every effort against the soldier of God, whom he could not corrupt in mind, strove to terrify him with phantom threats. If anyone wishes to learn more thoroughly about this, we will briefly show it in its proper places after a little while. Meanwhile, he began to become famous through signs and to be adorned with miracles. For even while still placed in a secular habit, he healed the sick by prayer and put demons to flight with his word, the athlete of Christ laboring with all his might never to depart from his holy purpose. He wished to conceal this from human favor, lest any breeze of favor from this world burst forth and stain his ears with the pollution of arrogance. Therefore, while these things were being done by him, and through the goodness of his deeds the truth of our God was made known by a certain silent preaching; and since, as often happens, the splendor of light kindled some who piously believed, while the dark fog of faithless gloom enveloped others who impiously disparaged, so that it seemed fulfilled what is written in Genesis, that the Egyptians had thick and palpable darkness, but the children of Israel had light in all their ways (Exod. 10:20), our God nonetheless continued to be magnified in his saint and to propagate the work of begun virtue with more prosperous successes.

And when suddenly the fame about him had spread far and wide, and especially had flown into the region which lies under the axis of the West, at the request of Austregisilus, bishop of the city of Biturica, from King Theoderic, that permission be given to him to confer upon him a share in teaching in the church, because multitudes were flocking to him for the grace of his teaching; without delay, the royal authority was brought forth so that, with his hair cut off, he might take up the burden of the clerical state. And advancing through the grades, after a year and more, having been made overseer of the others, having obtained the office of the Levitical order, he served the church. Meanwhile, more and more he was girded with the grace of signs; and when it had been suggested to King Clotarius by the faithful, he immediately asked the bishop that permission be given for his own and his army's salvation, that the blessed man might perform the office of abbot in his camp. Finally, when a three-day provision of supplies for himself and all his men was being made, having kept enough for one day, he distributed the rest to the needy. And when his men murmured out of fear of want: "Fix the eyes of your mind, O sons," he said, "on the Lord and Savior. Seek first His kingdom and His justice, and all things will be added to you. Remember that prophetic saying: 'Those who seek the Lord shall not lack any good thing' (Psalm 33:11)." Indeed, such an abundance of food was suddenly sent to him by the faithful that not absurdly did that hundredfold interest which the faithful Rewarder had promised to His disciples (Matthew

XIX, 29) he might rejoice that he had received it without human glory. At length, after a few days had passed, the king is afflicted with a cruel disease, and the poison, spread through his limbs, hastens headlong toward death. Meanwhile, the queen, struck by sudden grief, casts aside her necklaces, tears her garments, lacerates her hair and cheeks, and laments her husband as if already lost. The house is thrown into turmoil; the tears of the maidservants join the lamentations of their mistress. They run to the most blessed man, cling to his knees, bathe his feet with holy tears, that the pious priest might pour forth a prayer to the Lord for the king’s salvation. But he, whose hope rested in almighty God, wets his face with tears, and, beating his breast, draws out painful sighs, continues his vigils and fasts, and unceasingly offers prayers for the sick man. After five days have passed, the king becomes more and more inclined toward death. Then he is asked by his companions to moderate his excessive abstinence by partaking of some food. “I will not eat,” he says, “until I am able to obtain the prince’s safety from Christ the Lord, whom I serve.” But when they cried out that he was afflicting his innocent body with a long fast in vain, the prince already failing in spirit and nearly lifeless, he—whose salvation was firmly grounded in God—promises that, after seven days are completed, the prince, having recovered his former vigor, would take food together with him and the other companions.

Therefore, the day so long awaited by all arrived: the priest’s promises were fulfilled, swift healing was granted to the prince, the priest was raised up in glorious triumph by the hands of all, and he was summoned to the royal banquet with great honors. Indeed, he was by this very fact dear and acceptable to everyone. And since we have set down in writing, with the same fidelity with which they reached us, those deeds of the blessed man which we learned from our elders who were his contemporaries, let us now take up the beginning from that part of our own time which we have witnessed, and in part from what has been handed down to us by our fellow disciples, and leave it to the memory of posterity. Therefore, when the king’s court was resplendent with the beautiful adornment of his virtues, the grace of his signs, and his gems, and when, like a certain radiance of light, he had shone forth to this world and had filled the whole region far and wide with the fragrance of his odor, it came to pass that the holy bishop (whom we mentioned a little above) departed to the Lord in a glorious death.

And when the entire people of the Church had gathered together in one place to elect a bishop, and, as is usually the case in such matters, one person was shouting for one candidate and another for another, and a certain part of the more reckless mob, with the favor of clients, was giving its consent to certain of the leading men, and through a mortal and insolent prefect had brought reports to the king with infinite weights of gold and silver to secure his consent, so that, according to that sacrilegious sect of the unspeakable Simon, they might snatch heavenly grace contrary to all law and right; our people, however—to whom the Savior says: "Fear not, little flock, for it has pleased your Father to give you a kingdom" (Luke 12:32)—from the immortal and perfect Christ and God, demanded that the blessed man be their priest; nevertheless, they send a slender embassy with few words, and through one of those of whom it is said: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for the kingdom of heaven is theirs" (Matthew 5:3), they make it known to the king's ears. And when he (as usually happens) was infected with the poison of human greed and had his mind bent toward the abundant money that had been brought in, his wife, inflamed with divine love, was urging her husband, crying out that it was worthy and just that, after the departure of such and so great a man, he should permit to his see this man, who was supported by equal merit and by the signs of miracles and the grace of virtues, and was adorned with similar distinction. And that glorious woman recalled to her husband's memory with what effort and by her prayer she had shortly before dragged him back from the precipice of death.

Finally, by heavenly indulgence, the prince drew a deeper counsel from his mouth, and with the poison of greed suppressed, the persuasions of the wicked spurned, he ordered without delay that what had been the will of divine providence be fulfilled. And thus, with the Lord providing, he merited the first see of Aquitania in the episcopal rank. For it was the will of God that the peoples who were at variance among themselves and the minds that were in discord should be recalled to love for the pontiff by a swift conversion, and suddenly be united in one consensus. Therefore, having obtained the pontifical dignity, the blessed Sulpicius succumbed to the burden, not to the honor; he became, in short, all things to all people, not seeking what was useful to himself, but what was useful to the many, so that they might be saved. And suddenly, as if a lamp, the Lord hastened to kindle his priest. For the blessed man wholly gave himself over to great abstinence, unceasing fasts, and almost constant vigils; so that if ever the natural necessity of sleep demanded a little something, he would not rest upon the softness of a bed, which he had never been accustomed to use, but upon the surface of a mere mat and haircloth.

The venerable and God-worthy man, since he was illustrious in all things by purity of life and the virtues of his soul, did not greatly esteem ornate speech, evidently because in him there was a soul adorned with divine virtues, together with the grace of signs, which had been granted to him by the Lord Jesus Christ, daily increasing the preaching of the word of God, and more widely sowing the saving seeds of the kingdom of heaven throughout every land. Soon indeed he advanced so far in correcting the Jewish people, infected with ancient poisons, that they seemed to behold for themselves a new light of truth. And since the teacher of religion taught much by words, yet more by examples, and they did not see that what he had not first done himself was commanded to the disciples, he permitted no Jew, without delay, to dwell in the city entrusted to him from heaven without the grace of baptism. For when he continually prayed to the Lord for their conversion, and taught them that through baptism they have remission of sins, and that they could not otherwise enter the kingdom of God, as if the rays of the true sun had shone into their hearts, astonished and beholding the glory of God with unveiled face, repenting of their ancient errors, coming with faithful confession, they were baptized by the pontiff himself. Therefore, by divine gift, the illustrious warrior snatched the prey from the enemy. He restored it to the Author, he expelled the stain of unfaithfulness from the innermost recesses of the heart by the love of Christ. Not a few of them live today under the religion of our faith.

For shortly thereafter the grace of virtues increased so greatly in him that no fewer signs were performed through him than had long ago been wrought through the apostles. For although we have said a little earlier that he put demons to flight by a word and healed the sick by prayer, our God added to the glorification of his saint, so that in the course of time he restored sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, speech to the mute, life to the dead, right hands to the maimed, gait to the lame, and many other things, which it is tedious to recount individually, of which, if God’s favor assists, we wish to touch upon a few. Come now, speech, fulfill what you promise. A certain Gunthoaldus placed his son, about ten years old, whose tongue was so attached to his throat that no formed speech had ever been uttered from his mouth, before the feet of the blessed man, and made known the whole matter. And he, moved by human compassion, with groans and sighs simultaneously stretched his eyes and palms toward heaven, invoking Christ, who is God over all, with full faith and with tears, and after offering a prayer, he touched the boy’s tongue and impressed upon him the sign of the cross. Immediately the tongue was loosened, and to this day he speaks wonderfully with various responses of words. Stupendous miracles follow upon the illustrious and glorious signs.

At that time when a deadly famine, as it were, had laid waste all the provinces, a certain boy, dead from hunger, prostrates himself at the knees of the holy man with a faint breath, and begs that he take pity on him. The man, full of piety, took pity on him, and looking to the one who was in charge of the house, said: "I commend this boy to you with the utmost care, under the testimony of Christ." Then that man, as he was commanded, promised that he would apply diligence; and while he was occupied here and there with various tasks, he began to be a little less attentive to the needy one. The boy, consumed by cold and hunger, threw himself into the furnace of the baths, and since with his faint breath he could no longer drag his already weary limbs, he finally died lifeless. And when the servant had inquired everywhere, he searched all places, and found no trace of the boy anywhere. But the blessed bishop demands back the one commended from the servant. And he, prostrate at his knees, confesses that he has lost him. At once the blessed man enters his cell, prostrates himself on the ground, pours forth abundant tears, redoubles deep sighs, and beseeches the Lord Jesus that the boy be restored to his sight. For he took what he had heard so hard, and sent forth such tears with cries, as if lamenting his own crime, as if the soul of the deceased were already being demanded from his hands before the tribunal of the eternal Judge. Meanwhile, the one whose duty it was hurries to the furnace to light it, and, finding the corpse, tries to draw back the stiff limbs, and, recognizing the lifeless boy, announces it to the blessed bishop.

Again the man prostrated himself on the ground, groaned, poured forth prayers, remained long in sighs, and, raising his head over the lifeless bones, ordered hot water to be poured over them. Meanwhile, the priest of God, without ceasing, with beating breast, besought the Lord for the same boy. The limbs of the dead one began to move little by little, and the bones, serving their functions, returned to their former office. And although he was weak, while the blessed man persisted in prayer, afterwards he rolled to his feet, and, having touched his footprint, regained his former strength. Thus he is believed to have survived the deadly famine today; indeed, he remained with us for a long time afterward. Not many times having passed, another deed divinely performed by him is also recorded. There was a certain whirlpool situated in a small field of the Virisionenses, abundant in volume of water, as it was consecrated to demons: and if anyone for any reason entered it, suddenly entangled by demonic ropes, he would cruelly lose his life. But God’s help was present at the arrival of the blessed Sulpicius. Then the natives of the place, clinging to the saint’s knees, begged that the priest come to their aid, because they lamented that many relatives and servants had lost their lives there. And he, as always, pitying with full affection, ordered chrism to be mixed with a little oil and water: and, blessing it, he gave it to a disciple, commanding that, after the example of the prophet Elisha, he say: “Thus says the Lord: I have healed these waters, and there will be no more death nor barrenness in them.” (4 Kings 2:21).

When this had been done, the most wicked enemy was suddenly put to flight, so that from then on all passed in happiness, and they drew a great abundance of fish onto the shore, and no one felt any danger. Thus health was restored to the people, and the sickness of the water was removed. Not long after, a far more glorious miracle followed. When one of the country folk, to mitigate the summer heat, had of his own accord thrown himself into the river, he was immediately bound by the snares of Satan and violently ended his life. This place is situated not far from the house of the basilica, where the holy man of God, in a kind of alcove, was reclining with the brothers for the sake of refreshment. Meanwhile, a certain old woman was standing at a distance, and suddenly she beckoned with her hand to the servants who were standing in the sight of the bishop. They, through one of their fellow servants, tried to inquire about the matter, and when they came to the place, the woman indicated that a certain man, submerged in the depths, had lost his spirit. Then he summoned his companions and announced it to the bishop, who ordered the body to be pulled out and kept until None. And after all had been refreshed, he went to the place of prayer. And indeed, as soon as he had prayed, he had drawn forth the revival from their souls; but he believed that three hours should intervene from Sext, so that there would be no doubt that the man had truly been dead. Finally, he rose from prayer and ordered the lifeless body to be brought before his sight, and raising his hand, he impressed the image of the cross; the limbs of the deceased moved here and there as his spirit was restored; and thus, at the voice of the bishop, he quickly rose unharmed, and, having recovered his strength, returned on his own feet.

At one time, one of the nobles, named Theodegisilus, came to visit the blessed bishop. He showed the affection which he knew was to be shared with all; and since it was winter, a great deal of fuel for the fire was heaped up. The minds of the servants were perhaps occupied with other matters, and no one was concerned about the state of the fire. Finally, the flame swiftly devoured the roofs, and already, as they were sprinkled, everything began to shake, and, with ruin threatening, they encountered strong flames: a copious fire had thrown everyone into panic. Because of the great difficulty, since no one dared to climb onto the roofs, all, despairing of any help, took to flight. The priest, caring for the standard of the cross, strove with his hand to resist the flames, and, to the amazement of all, the balls of flame were immediately extinguished before the servant of God withdrew his hand, as if they had been surrounded on all sides by the force of a great river. Let us relate a similar deed. Within the walls of the city, a certain illustrious woman had filled a large granary with ears of grain. In the dead of night, a criminal entered secretly, and, having thrown in fire, the flames soon surrounded it. Nor could it remain hidden, for the grief of all made it known: a tumult arose, where the blessed man was weighed down by his usual sleep. Finally, through a disciple, the cause of the discovered deed was learned; going with swift step around the pyre of flames with spiritual songs, he, in wondrous ways, fixed a limit with his staff, a fiery hill which it could not cross.

On every side, as the flames touched the neighboring houses that were attached, they turned back upon themselves and were compressed into one, fleeing the abyss which they dared not cross. The rejoicing father returned to the church, glad, to pay the due praises at the morning hours. Let us add a third miracle of similar deed. In the same city, the man of God had built a certain monastery with the greatest effort, in which he had enclosed a band of virgins and continent women: there he raised the structure with great stone buildings. By chance, from one of the careless, when the silence of night had fallen, a fire, snatched from the wall, gradually growing, spread: soon, having burst through the house, it prepared to touch the neighboring ones. And already the mass of flames had grown into a great mountain. At last, the priest of God, summoned by the call of his sheep, ran to the folds; with the sign of the cross, he prepared to resist the flames of immense height. Immediately, in the midst of the pyre, holy aid appeared in the form of a dove, in which the Holy Spirit had descended upon the baptized Lord. Suddenly, the flames, checked, dared not touch the other houses. The shepherd, having rescued the sheep, instructs them with saving admonitions, through whose teaching the resolve of chastity shines among them to this day.

While they exult in the pursuit of wisdom, they consecrate not only their bodies but also their souls by the grace of virginity, preparing pure vessels for wisdom, from which they seek holy and immortal unions of the Divine Word, from which a posterity is left that is in no way subject to the corruption of mortality; but how greatly the grace of abstinence, sobriety, and honesty shines among them with beautiful splendor surpasses the power of words to declare. Now let us return to the discourse of our narrative. Far from the city, in a place called Anatra, he commanded with axes that an immense tree be felled; when it was cut down and fell swiftly, one of the boys, mentally impaired, standing stunned in another direction, did not flee death in his madness. Immediately the priest raised his hand with the sign of the cross, and miraculously turned the tree to the other side, and drew the boy safe from the peril of death.

And already, with the miracles shining like the brightest stars, and with faith flourishing, whereby all everywhere had equally believed in the Lord as Savior, that ancient deceiver of the human race, the rival of all goodness, strives to attack the Church, at peace with all its people, through certain wicked men in an internal war, and inflames a certain prince of the Gallic provinces with the fire of greed, and urges him by secret persuasions to enroll the people of Bourges along with the priests of the Church under a nefarious census; and like a certain beast hissing with a double mouth and darting diabolical poisons with a double tongue, he sends one of his agents to shake the aforementioned people. But because divine power and grace never abandon their own, especially in the greatest struggle, when the wicked minister, under royal cruelty, was forcing the Christian multitude, which had remained free from ages past, into servitude; all, unable to bear the impious affliction, such a multitude flocked to their pious shepherd, and such a great clamor of the weeping arose with raised voices that it was thought to be a terrible thunderclap for those hearing it. The voices of all cried out only this: "Pious shepherd, come to the aid of the flock, which you have fostered with pastoral affection until now. Act so that the flock entrusted to you by God does not perish: defend it from the wolf that tears it with a rabid tooth." Thereupon, moved by excessive piety, he, after imposing a fast on all, gently addresses his assessor, that he might cease to pursue the impious command.

But when his mind, hardened by pride, could not be broken, and, scorning the priest’s exhortations, grew ever more fierce, the blessed man sought his cell, prostrated himself on the ground, struck his holy breast with blows, and begged of the Lord what he had been unable to obtain from the governor. And knowing that it is no less a virtue of the soul to pray to the Lord for an enemy than to prostrate oneself for the Lord, he sought the conversion of his enemies rather than their destruction. And indeed, had he sought it immediately, a punishment worthy of the unbridled prince and his most savage assessor would have swiftly followed; but the blessed man was always gentle and merciful toward his adversaries. Meanwhile, he sent one of his men, a certain solitary named Ebregisilus (who, renouncing all things, that is, the world with all its trappings, was superior to the others in life and speech, following the example of the blessed man), to rebuke the prince’s savagery. He was to announce that unless he changed through the amendment of a better life, sudden destruction would befall him. The blessed man’s follower also added, warning the prince about the impieties of his crimes, if perhaps he could feel repentance for what he had done, if he could weep for his sin, and quench the avenging flames of punishment with an abundance of tears; because God does not so much desire the death of sinners as that they be converted and live.

When the king heard this, he was seized with excessive fear and shaken with such terror that, immediately acknowledging his fault, lamenting his crime with tears, bearing repentance without royal haughtiness, he willingly fulfilled what had been communicated by such a great priest through his disciple. The unusual tax was swiftly abolished, the impious assessment was rescinded, safety was granted to the people; and as if the splendor of the sun had been restored after a violent storm, with peace given to the Church, the joys of the priests were heaped up. The king also remarkably added that a general authority should be given, lest the impious execution be repeated among the people in the future. As for the fierce assessor, who did not give his assent to the king’s commendation, a fitting vengeance struck him, and he lost the life he was unworthily enjoying immediately and with disgrace. For the minister of such a great sin could not escape unpunished. O blessed man in all things! who never defended himself from the furies of his adversaries by hand or weapon, but by fasts and continuous vigils, placed beneath the altar, through supplication prepared God as his defender and that of his Church. And who could ever deter him by their devices or attacks, who, with the helping right hand of Christ, always remained safe and unconquered?

At that same time, however, the man of God, observing apostolic simplicity in all things, inferior to none, and in every respect a true priest and Host of God, since he was striving everywhere to fulfill the work of caring for the poor that he had long ago undertaken, and since his age, now advanced, was inclining toward decrepit old age, when he saw that he was insufficient for all things—whether to devote himself to deeper divine matters, or to remain continually in holy prayers as he wished, or to complete the instructions of those who daily were being entrusted to the faith—from all of which he was not even allowed to breathe or to have free time for even a single hour, since he was always being called from one thing to another, so that from first light until deep evening he never ceased to be detained by various occupations; therefore, when he saw himself burdened by such a weight, he judged it more useful to entrust a share of his office and labor to one of the faithful Christian nobles of the region, a man already fully and excellently instructed, Wlfelentus, and to commit to him the ministry of the divine word at least; and so, having assembled the clergy, he received the rights of the priesthood there.

Who can adequately describe with what humility, with what charity, he thereafter contented himself to show forth toward his companions and ministers and the supports of the poor? He always ruminated with the purest mouth that evangelical saying, and strove with all his might to fulfill it in deed: "Whoever wishes to be your first, let him be your last; and whoever wishes to be your master, let him be your servant" (Matthew 20:26). And because he had the eye of his mind wholly fixed on God, he unceasingly considered that our Lord Jesus Christ, having become man for our sake, taught us this: that we should struggle against sin even unto death. For indeed He Himself did not consider it a usurpation to be equal to God, but He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant, and was found in habit as a man; He humbled Himself even unto death. Following whom, Sulpicius, the holy man of God, undertook the labors and torments of all afflictions, of flesh and mind, lest the resolve of faith stain his conscience.

If indeed we now wish to recount the virtues of the most blessed Bishop Sulpicius and to set forth the strength of his constancy, we have neither the abundance of such eloquence, nor do we think that these things would appear credible to others except to those alone who beheld them with their own eyes. Now let the discourse hasten on to those matters which it had previously begun, so that we may attempt to weave together a few of the miraculous deeds which, with a partner joined to him, he thereafter performed by heavenly power. At a certain time, one of the wicked and, as it were, needy men violently thrust himself by night into the storeroom of the blessed man; immediately he strove to seize what he had conceived in his atrocious mind as a theft; and while he hastened to depart, no exit for returning lay open, and with every barrier constructed, as if enclosed in a prison, the guilty man was bound on all sides. Therefore, after the journey of the entire night was spent in vain, the entrance, which had been easy for him, afforded not even a narrow way back. Meanwhile, the splendor of light illuminated the world, and the man of God summoned one of the guards, sending word to his companion that he should bring forth the man whom he had found in the storeroom, wearied by his error and, as it were, bound by certain fetters, thus entangled in his crime.

Without delay, a servant hastened to his companion; when summoned, they found the criminal inside, and immediately seized him to drag him out. But suddenly he slipped from their hands; and when he saw himself surrounded by crimes and hemmed in on all sides by the crowds, preferring to undergo a swift death rather than to endure the torments of a long-drawn-out crime, he threw himself headlong into a well of about eighty cubits, which was nearby, to perish. Nevertheless, when the devouring earth had received him, he begged for the aid of the blessed bishop. Then the man of God, arriving with swift approach, ordered that, after the escape, one of the boys should descend bound with a rope, earnestly warning him to drag the criminal up with the utmost care, entwined. And when all cried out that the one whom the gap of such a height of earth had swallowed could no longer be alive, but was rather believed by all to have already perished, he commanded the boy to obey his orders quickly. The servant entered, and, armed without delay with the sign of the holy man, found alive the one whom all believed to be lifeless. He brought the captive, bound with ropes, back to his native soil. The walls were thronged with crowds of people; almost the entire city had flocked to the spectacle of such a marvel; clapping their hands, the voices of all resounded; they marveled at the safe one whom they had thought dead, plunged into the abyss of such a height. At last the criminal, shaken by deep astonishment of mind, prostrate at the holy feet, begged pardon for his crime.

Immediately the man, full of piety, grants it and gives the necessities for his use, often warning him to ask rather than to steal; to wish that a gift be conferred upon him, not plunder. Oh, how perfect was the humility in him, how ready the mercy, how holy the simplicity! But who could tell how great his patience and forbearance were? When one of the disciples from the order of levites asked for permission to return to his own home, he, out of an affection of love, did not grant him the freedom to go away, lest something happen by chance on the long journey. But this man, armed with the spirit of pride, as soon as the first rest had barely granted forgetfulness of his cares, seized flight with a swift step and a vehicle, spurred on by his crime; he is struck with such a well-deserved punishment of blindness that he runs about here and there all night long, uncertain, with vain effort. When day returned to the earth, his course having been spent in vain, he sees himself standing in the place where he had hastily begun his journey. Finally, to the priest, whom I think nothing now escaped, he begs pardon for his crime, clings to his holy knees, confesses his deeds in order. His mind, most ready in piety, forgives; immediately he grants pardon to the one confessing.

For indeed, with how great and what arts the most wicked demon, with his entire army, fought against him with intent, and brought forth new things beyond all others who in that time were struggling for the name of Christ, and stirred up the weapons of demonic fury against him, we have taken care to touch upon a few points for those desiring to know. And because we have already spoken shortly before of his frequent night-watches; when in the deep silence of a certain night he had completed the singing of psalms in the baptistery, he went with a few companions to the basilica of the blessed Martin, so that he might feast on divine praises there for the remaining part of the night until Matins. And when, with a boy carrying a lamp going before him, he had already reached the doors of the basilica, the deadly demon, thrusting himself forward in a strong form and in the appearance of a most foul and horrible bird, first strives to extinguish the light which went before, then threw itself with great force into the face and eyes of the blessed man, and flying about here and there at a distance, with ridiculous intentions, again and again made itself violent and hostile. At this, the man of God, making little of what was done, said: "I know who you are, minister of the ancient serpent, nor do you allow yourself to be hidden, you who show yourself to me as a most wicked persecutor almost continually." Finally, when he raised his hand with the sign of the cross, not only did it not dare to interfere further, but at the very instant of the impressed cross it vanished.

As he was shameless and a miserable deceiver, then, to the injury of the holy man, the seditious enemy kindled the greatest fury with goads. And so, when he had commanded one of the boys, simple in mind and conduct, named Ansulfus, to go to a certain place for the necessary provision of food for the brothers and the poor, without delay he obeys the commands, fulfills the orders, and hastens to return home. The most savage demon with his attendants thrust himself in his way, cast him from the vehicle, and, having beaten him badly with whips, left him lifeless; he was carried half-alive by his neighbors to the house. And since no one reported what had been done to the injury of St. Sulpicius, he finally perceived through the spirit of prophecy, which he had received by the grace of the Divinity, that his servant remained mute for ten continuous days and was crippled, with all his limbs dead, and with his mouth so locked with teeth that no one could pour even a drop of water inside. Meanwhile, the man of God reveals to the brothers the order of events which he had perceived in spirit, and grieving for the afflicted one out of affection, and pouring forth tears out of piety, he lamented that the pious shepherd had endured torments for his sake. Immediately, however, he prostrates his holy limbs on the ground, and, rising from the earth after prayer, he orders a morsel of bread with wine to be offered to the lifeless one; forthwith, with his teeth unlocked as if with iron, the bystanders poured a drop of the wine which he had sent into his mouth.

Soon, with the man already largely dead, his lost senses were restored, and his limbs, now obedient, returned to their former vigor. We have learned this and confirmed it from the testimony of the man who endured it and from the faithful. Not long after, as the day gave way to night, the blessed Sulpicius entered the church with a few others to spend the night. When deep silence had fallen, the serpent’s cunning first soothed the air with a faint hiss. Then, though it was everywhere, it shook the church’s enclosure—the arches, altars, lamps, and other furnishings—with such violent force that the disciples already thought the church would be utterly overturned. Trembling and pale with excessive fear, they abandoned their hymns, expecting death, and clung to the floor. But the blessed man, unconquered in all things, persisted so steadfastly in the divine hymns, making light of what the envious one wrought, that he was never more constant or more resplendent in times of prosperity. Finally, the envious serpent, with its host, gathered itself into a single mass, and, thinking to deter his unbroken constancy with heavier blows and noise, threw itself onto the floor before the face of the blessed man with an immense uproar, so that the disciples thought the master had been crushed to pieces. They themselves remained stunned for a long time; but the glorious priest, wounding the adversary with divine darts, persevered in his spiritual hymns. He did, however, rebuke the disciples for having abandoned their hymns, frightened by phantom threats.

But what wonder is it, if this enemy of the human race sought the death of so great a priest, who was a leader and standard-bearer among the people of God, since he once even extended nefarious and impure outrages to the very injury of the Divinity itself? And because malice ceaselessly fights against goodness, and the rivalry of the adversary pursues the saints of God; how much the worst enemy, manifesting himself through various illusions, is said to have heaped up the goads of his fury against the flock of Christ, which his right hand protected through his priest, we are not sufficient to tell. Yet let us relate in brief speech one of those things which he credulously did against a certain servant of Christ under so many witnesses. When one from the troops of those whose duty it is to sing to God continually in the Mother Church, named Legontius, was proceeding on his due course to keep vigil at the church, he encountered the enemy of the human race as a warrior against himself; and the adversary, gnashing with anger, strives to recall the servant of God from the begun path of good work, and, afflicted with many beatings, left him half-dead and almost lifeless; and, found prostrate on the ground by many, all senses had lost their service to their office. Then the holy man of God had departed far from the city, and when he had returned after three days, he found him half-dead and badly punished with lashes. Then, prostrating himself beside the limbs of his brother, he groaned deeply, and, with the teeth unlocked, the priest of God poured the sacrifice into his mouth with his own hands.

And to the wondrous amazement of all who were watching, suddenly, with his hand seized, he rose up unharmed before the priest's face, as if he were thought to have had no illness; and leaping about everywhere, he blessed the Lord. Not long after, one of the rustics, having taken up an axe in his hand, polluted the day of the Lord's resurrection with a nefarious deed: immediately the sacrilegious hand withered, the skin dried up along with the sinews, and the axe, stuck fast, was closed in. He quickly hastens to the saint of God, prostrates himself at the feet of Christ's athlete: the dry hand betrays the author of the sacrilege, and warns the weeping culprit to go rather to the church. The priest continues his prayers beneath the altar, so that he might at last obtain from Christ pardon for the crime he had committed. Meanwhile, the holy man of God has recourse to his usual refuge: he enters his cell sprinkled with ashes, and spent the night in prayer with flowing tears; and when the priest of God came to the church in the morning to render the due praises, with the crowd of people gazing at the man with the axe, the man of God prostrates himself in prayer: and so suddenly the culprit, unable to bear the torments, cried out with great shouts, so that the place seemed to be shaken. For immense terror seized everyone. Meanwhile, the sacrilegious hand was suddenly restored to its former function; the bones, skin, and sinews were filled again with their humors; the axe miraculously sprang back from that hand to the side; the criminal pours forth abundant tears, confesses his sin, and is absolved; he returns home absolved.

Therefore, by divine providence excelling in mercy, it reconciles the sicknesses of the soul through the affliction of the body, according to that saying: "I will visit with a rod the iniquities of them; but I will not take away my mercy from them" (Psalm 88:33). And because long ago, while placed on earth, our Lord and Savior had said to the disciples: "If you believe in me, the works which I do you also will do, and greater than these you will do" (John 14:12); finally, to such an extent had a spiritual flame kindled the blessed man for the love of faith, that if anyone secretly snatched away the water dripping from his hands while he was being washed, and touched the body of any sick person, many would be freed from their infirmities, but especially those afflicted by tertian and quartan fevers would, to wondrous astonishment, recover their former health. For how many and what signs the Lord ultimately performed through him, and declared by new and astonishing miracles of virtues, we think is credible to none other than those who have beheld them with their own eyes.

And since he was believed to have a fellowship of life and deeds not with other mortals but with immortal angels, he so utterly rejected the deceit and blandishments of the world that he could rightly say with the Apostle: "For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain" (Philippians 1:21); and that other saying: "I desired to be dissolved and to be with Christ" (Ibid. 23), except that he would wish to live for those for whom he would also die. Like dung, finally, he spurned the pomp of the world, despised gold, rejected silver as mud. He holds councils, summons bishops through synods, frequently warns that the divine commandments not be neglected, fully reiterating that command of the Savior: "Do not possess gold nor silver, etc." (Matthew 10:9). But according to the Apostle, "having food and clothing," he says, "let us be content with these" (1 Timothy 6:8), and the things that follow are to be shunned. He himself labored with all his might, chastising his body and reducing it to servitude, lest, while he preached to others, he himself should be found reprobate. For a long time, indeed, Blessed Sulpicius had no silver vessels, nor did he use them, but all things for his use were of wood, earthenware, and marble. O unblemished constancy! He trampled underfoot, by the virtue of patience, the base things by which human frailty is assailed. And since, according to the voice of the Savior (Matthew 5:9), he taught those things which he himself had first done in all things, no one doubts that he was great in the kingdom of heaven.

This man was a priest of God, bearing the pontifical petalum, who, by crucifying the body within himself and persecuting the vices, attained a new martyrdom—not by death, but by the mortification of the flesh.

And when he had built churches, monasteries, and cells sufficiently and abundantly, and had become the father of countless clerics and monks, with very many renouncing their own resources—devoted to this kind of philosophy, having distributed their goods to the needy, and casting aside many cares even of life far away, living in little gardens or tiny plots of land outside the city—while others, as those who first believed in the Acts of the Apostles are recorded to have lived, sold their possessions and lands, and placed the prices at the feet of the rest, dividing them to each as needed; so that they might easily fulfill the evangelical office, all whom he had desired were most fully instructed in spiritual teachings, and so devoted to the studies of Christian philosophy in imitation of the master that some, even after three days, indulged the body with food not so much desired as necessary; evidently because many, dwelling in a deeper understanding of the sacred volumes, as if gaping at abundant feasts, could not be satisfied, and by contemplating more keenly were inflamed, and in constant struggle agonized against the flesh, yielding nothing to its pleasure and lust; while nourishing the soul with the pastures of wisdom and the foods of knowledge, always driving it onward. The father, rejoicing at such zeal of his sons, at last hastens to demand the stored-up interest from the eternal Father.

And suddenly the Lord is present to console and reward his faithful servant. And while he shone with these miracles of virtue, the glorious time of his blessed end arrived. But when his limbs, already broken by age, were failing, his afflicted and half-dead body was strengthened by the burden of abstinence: and what nature had neglected, merit confirmed. And so, full of days, his lifetime completed, gleaming with the splendor of his merits, he commends his earthly limbs to the earth, and his heavenly spirit ascends the heights of heaven among the choirs of angels. Therefore, from every side of the city, a sudden crowd of countless peoples flowed together from all directions: the walls, the courtyards, and all the streets are packed, to such an extent, finally, that if the aid of the blessed bishop had not been present, the greater part of the people, crushed underfoot, with breath violently cut off, would have been killed by the constriction of so many. The lamentation of all was immense, the grief unbearable, and the mourners burst forth in such great groaning in their voices that even stony hearts poured forth immense tears. I do not know if anyone so cruel and senseless could have been present there who could have refrained from tears. For such a great roar of voices resounded that the place seemed to be shaken as if by a great thunderclap. And although the grief of all was infinite, the sobs of the clergy were utterly broken, and sorrowful lamentation scarcely allowed spiritual hymns to be sung: it only wrung from the words of the grieving, amid their sobs, this groan: "Alas, desolate flock, what are you doing?

already failing, he was carried to the church, where now the priest of God, awaiting the time of resurrection in glorious triumph, lies buried with wondrous beauty, which church he himself had long ago built with the greatest effort. The body was placed in the tomb; the entire people, unable to bear the absence of their shepherd, beyond human measure prostrated themselves on the pavement and bellowed. So much so that even the ministers of the church were not permitted the freedom to perform their office. They mourned him as though absent, whom they had not lost but sent ahead; not knowing clearly that he, hastening to penetrate heaven on an embassy for them, was to intercede before the divine gaze, so that there he might pour forth the prayers for the people which here he would render to the faithful petitioner; there he might fulfill the vows which here he would answer with vows.

Immediately, he does not allow himself to be absent from the one whom, while placed on earth, he had fostered with unceasing labor, but at once hastens in spirit to visit the one he had left in body but not in affection. And thus, by suddenly restoring health through various infirmities, he revealed himself to be present, so that, like a heavenly light shown forth or a certain ray of the sun bursting out, he illuminated the whole orb with the brightness of supernal light: from which, through all cities and villages, immense multitudes, like grain at threshing floors in harvest time, were gathered to the churches. And not only did the most brilliant fame, as if on winged flight, shine forth concerning the diverse miracles of healings to neighboring cities, but also to all kingdoms of the earth. And unless the basilica itself had been largely enlarged, it could not have received the multitude of the infirm from its capacity. And if I merit God as my guide, I wish still to show in brief speech those things which this distinguished triumphator has now accomplished. Worthily and plainly, by ancient predecessors, where these things occur, the place is called NAVIS, from the harbor for a ship, which name once indicated, as if by some presage of future things, what it now manifests by divine affection. That is to say, it is a Ship, in which those who adhere to it cross the sea of this world and arrive free at the far-off homeland, namely, the heavenly kingdom.

There, indeed, from the imminent storms of visible and invisible evils, it becomes a harbor of refuge; there, from the waves of the world or the tempests of whirlwinds, grace is granted to escape. There daily they pour the salt of knowledge into the weak and ignorant; there, through the intercession of our blessed Father, healing is freely given to the sick by the eternal and invisible physician: through it, shipwrecked persons and exiles return outright to their former homeland. Therefore, having set aside the other matters, in which I will labor shortly, as I promised above, I will now speak briefly about that lamp which is suspended before the tomb of the Blessed One. It is reported by the attendants that it was once filled with oil, and from the overflowing holy liquid it pours forth a constant stream from above, from which many, having been anointed, are said to have been freed from various ailments. And this must be acknowledged not without wonder: that once, at the evening hour, while the priestly assembly was resounding with divine hymns, suddenly, with a thunderous strike, a heavenly flame struck the lamp's fuel, wonderfully providing light to all who beheld it, and it never thereafter lost its brilliance, but to this day it nourishes the fuel kindled for divine ministry.

Having set forth these deeds of a most illustrious man, even if through unworthy words by which they have been explained, we now at a fitting time determine to set a limit, we place a hand upon the mouth, we hasten to return inward to the conscience. And indeed, let us ask that he whom we cannot imitate become our patron; so that we may be aided by the merits of him whose feast day we celebrate, with the help of him who, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, lives and reigns as God through all the ages of ages. Amen.