CHAPTER XIV
OF THE VILE REPORT OF HIS INIQUITY
BEFORE long all those who dwelt thereabouts began to censure me roundly, complaining
that I paid far less attention to their needs than I might and should have done, and that
at least I could do something for them through my preaching. As a result, I returned
thither frequently, to be of service to them in whatsoever way I could. Regarding this
there was no lack of hateful murmuring, and the thing which sincere charity induced me to
do was seized upon by the wickedness of my detractors as the subject of shameless outcry.
They declared that I, who of old could scarcely endure to be parted from her I loved, was
still swayed by the delights of fleshly lust. Many times I thought of the complaint of St.
Jerome in his letter to Asella regarding those women whom he was falsely accused of loving
when he said (Epist. xcix): " I am charged with nothing save the fact of my sex, and
this charge is made only because Paula is setting forth to Jerusalem." And again:
"Before I became intimate in the household of the saintly Paula, the whole city was
loud in my praise, and nearly every one deemed me deserving of the highest honours of
priesthood. But I know that my way to the kingdom of Heaven lies through good and evil
report alike."
When I pondered over the injury which slander had done to so great a man as this, I was
not a little consoled thereby. If my rivals, I told myself, could but find an equal cause
for suspicion against me, with what accusations would they persecute me! But how is it
possible for such suspicion to continue in my case, seeing that divine mercy has freed me
therefrom by depriving me of all power to enact such baseness? How shameless is this
latest accusation! In truth that which had happened to me so completely removes all
suspicion of this iniquity among all men that those who wish to have their women kept
under close guard employ eunuchs for that purpose, even as sacred history tells regarding
Esther and the other damsels of King Ahasuerus (Esther ii. 5). We read, too, of that
eunuch of great authority under Queen Candace who had charge of all her treasure, him to
whose conversion and baptism the apostle Philip was directed by an angel (Acts viii. 27).
Such men, in truth, are enabled to have far more importance and intimacy among modest and
upright women by the fact that they are free from any suspicion of lust. The sixth book of
the Ecclesiastical History tells us that the greatest of all Christian philosophers,
Origen, inflicted a like injury on himself with his own hand, in order that all suspicion
of this nature might be completely done away with in his instruction of women in sacred
doctrine. In this respect, I thought, God's mercy had been kinder to me than to him, for
it was judged that he had acted most rashly and had exposed himself to no slight censure,
whereas the thing had been done to me through the crime of another, thus preparing me for
a task similar to his own. Moreover, it had been accomplished with much less pain, being
so quick and sudden, for I was heavy with sleep when they laid hands on me, and felt
scarcely any pain at all.
But alas, I thought, the less I then suffered from the wound, the greater is my
punishment now through slander, and I am tormented far more by the loss of my reputation
than I was by that of part of my body. For thus is it written: "A good name is rather
to be chosen than great riches" (Prov. xxii. 1). And as St. Augustine of Hippo tells us in a
sermon of his on the life and conduct of the clergy, "He is cruel who, trusting in
his conscience, neglects his reputation." Again he says: "Let us provide those
things that are good, as the apostle bids us (Rom. xii. 17), not alone in the eyes of God,
but likewise in the eyes of men. Within himself each one's conscience suffices, but for
our own sakes our reputations ought not to be tarnished, but to flourish. Conscience and
reputation are different matters: conscience is for yourself, reputation for your
neighbour." Methinks the spite of such men as these my enemies would have accused the
very Christ Himself, or those belonging to Him, prophets and apostles, or the other holy
fathers, if such spite had existed in their time, seeing that they associated in such
familiar intercourse with women, and this though they were whole of body. On this point
St. Augustine, in his book on the duty of monks, proves that women followed our Lord Jesus
Christ and the apostles as inseparable companions, even accompanying them when they
preached (Chap. 4). "faithful women," he says, "who were possessed of
worldly wealth went with them, and ministered to them out of their wealth, so that they
might lack none of those things which belong to the substance of life." And if any
one does not believe that the apostles thus permitted saintly women to go about with them
wheresoever they preached the Gospel, let him listen to the Gospel itself, and learn
therefrom that in so doing they followed the example of the Lord. For in the Gospel it is
written thus: "And it came to pass afterward, that He went throughout every city and
village, preaching and showing the glad tidings of the kingdom of God: and the twelve were
with Him and certain women which had been healed of evil spirits and infirmities, Mary Magdalene, and Joanna the wife of Chuza, Herod's steward, and Susanna, and many
others, which ministered unto Him of their substance" (Luke viii. 1-3)
Leo the Ninth, furthermore, in his reply to the letter of Parmenianus concerning
monastic zeal says: "We unequivocally declare that it is not permissible for a
bishop, priest, deacon or subdeacon to cast off all responsibility for his own wife on the
grounds of religious duty, so that he no longer provides her with food and clothing;
albeit he may not have carnal intercourse with her. We read that thus did the holy
apostles act, for St. Paul says: 'Have we not power to lead about a sister, a wife, as
well as other apostles, and as the brethren of the Lord, and Cephas?' (I Cor. ix. 5).
Observe, foolish man, that he does not say: 'have we not power to embrace a sister, a
wife,' but he says 'to lead about,' meaning thereby that such women may lawfully be
supported by them out of the wages of their preaching, but that there must be no carnal
bond between them."
Certainly that Pharisee who spoke within himself of the Lord, saying: "This man,
if He were a prophet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth
Him: for she is a sinner" (Luke 7|Luke vii. 39]), might much more reasonably have suspected
baseness of the Lord, considering the matter from a purely human standpoint, than my
enemies could suspect it of me. One who had seen the mother of Our Lord entrusted to the
care of the young man (John xix. 27), or who had beheld the prophets dwelling and
sojourning with widows (I Kings xvii. 10), would likewise have had a far more logical
ground for suspicion. And what would my calumniators have said if they had but seen
Malchus, that captive monk of whom St. Jerome writes, living in the same hut with his
wife? Doubtless they would have regarded it as criminal in the famous scholar to have
highly commended what he thus saw, saying thereof: "There was a certain old man named
Malchus, a native of this region, and his wife with him in his hut. Both of them were
earnestly religious, and they so often passed the threshold of the church that you might
have thought them the Zacharias and Elisabeth of the Gospel, saving only that John was not
with them."
Why, finally, do such men refrain from slandering the holy fathers, of whom we
frequently read, nay, and have even seen with our own eyes, founding convents for women
and making provision for their maintenance, thereby following the example of the seven
deacons whom the apostles sent before them to secure food and take care of the women?
(Acts vi. 5). For the weaker sex needs the help of the stronger one to such an extent that
the apostle proclaimed that the head of the woman is ever the man (I Cor. i. 3), and in
sign thereof he bade her ever wear her head covered (ib. 5). For this reason I marvel
greatly at the customs which have crept into monasteries whereby, even as abbots are
placed in charge of the men, abbesses now are given authority over the women, and the
women bind themselves in their vows to accept the same rules as the men. Yet in these
rules there are many things which cannot possibly be carried out by women, either as
superiors or in the lower orders. In many places we may even behold an inversion of the
natural order of things, whereby the abbesses and nuns have authority over the clergy and
even over those who are themselves in charge of the people. The more power such women
exercise over men, the more easily can they lead them into iniquitous desires, and in this
way can lay a very heavy yoke upon their shoulders. It was with such things in mind that
the satirist said: "There is nothing more intolerable than a rich woman."
(Juvenal, Sat. VI, v 459)
CHAPTER XV
OF THE PERILS OF HIS ABBEY AND OF THE REASONS FOR THE WRITING OF THIS
HIS LETTER
REFLECTING often upon all these things, I determined to make provision for those
sisters and to undertake their care in every way I could. Furthermore, in order that they
might have the greater reverence for me, I arranged to watch over them in person. And
since now the persecution carried on by my sons was greater and more incessant than that
which I formerly suffered at the hands of my brethren, I returned frequently to the nuns,
fleeing the rage of the tempest as to a haven of peace. There, indeed, could I draw breath
for a little in quiet, and among them my labours were fruitful, as they never were among
the monks. All this was of the utmost benefit to me in body and soul, and it was equally
essential for them by reason of their weakness.
But now has Satan beset me to such an extent that I no longer know where I may find
rest, or even so much as live. I am driven hither and yon, a fugitive and a vagabond, even
as the accursed Cain (Gen. iv. 14). I have already said that "without were fightings,
within were fears" (II Cor. vii. 5), and these torture me ceaselessly, the fears
being indeed without as well as within, and the fightings wheresoever there are fears.
Nay, the persecution carried on by my sons rages against me more perilously and
continuously than that of my open enemies, for my sons I have always with me, and I am
ever exposed to their treacheries. The violence of my enemies I see in the danger to my
body if I leave the cloister; but within it I am compelled incessantly to endure the
crafty machinations as well as the open violence of those monks who are called my sons,
and who are entrusted to me as their abbot, which is to say their father.
Oh. how often have they tried to kill me with poison, even as the monks sought to slay
St. Benedict! Methinks the same reason which led the saint to abandon his wicked sons
might encourage me to follow the example of so great a father, lest, in thus exposing
myself to certain peril, I might be deemed a rash tempter of God rather than a lover of
Him, nay, lest it might even be judged that I had thereby taken my own life. When I had
safeguarded myself to the best of my ability, so far as my food and drink were concerned,
against their daily plottings, they sought to destroy me in the very ceremony of the altar
by putting poison in the chalice. One day, when I had gone to Nantes to visit the count,
who was then sick, and while I was sojourning awhile in the house of one of my brothers in
the flesh, they arranged to poison me with the connivance of one of my attendants
believing that I would take no precautions to escape such a plot. But divine providence so
ordered matters that I had no desire for the food which was set before me; one of the
monks whom I had brought with me ate thereof, not knowing that which had been done, and
straightway fell dead. As for the attendant who had dared to undertake this crime, he fled
in terror alike of his own conscience and of the clear evidence of his guilt.
After this, as their wickedness was manifest to every one, I began openly in every way
I could to avoid the danger with which their plots threatened me, even to the extent of
leaving the abbey and dwelling with a few others apart in little cells. If the monks knew
beforehand that I was going anywhere on a journey, they bribed bandits to waylay me on the
road and kill me. And while I was struggling in the midst of these dangers, it chanced one
day that the hand of the Lord smote me a heavy blow, for I fell from my horse, breaking a
bone in my neck, the injury causing me greater pain and weakness than my former wound.
Using excommunication as my weapon to coerce the untamed rebelliousness of the monks, I
forced certain ones among them whom I particularly feared to promise me publicly, pledging
their faith or swearing upon the sacrament, that they would thereafter depart from the
abbey and no longer trouble me in any way. Shamelessly and openly did they violate the
pledges they had given and their sacramental oaths, but finally they were compelled to
give this and many other promises under oath, in the presence of the count and the
bishops, by the authority of the Pontiff of Rome, Innocent, who sent his own legate for
this special purpose. And yet even this did not bring me peace. For when I returned to the
abbey after the expulsion of those whom I have just mentioned, and entrusted myself to the
remaining brethren, of whom I felt less suspicion, I found them even worse than the
others. I barely succeeded in escaping them, with the aid of a certain nobleman of the
district, for they were planning, not to poison me indeed, but to cut my throat with a
sword. Even to the present time I stand face to face with this danger, fearing the sword
which threatens my neck so that I can scarcely draw a free breath between one meal and the
next. Even so do we read of him who, reckoning the power and heaped-up wealth of the
tyrant Dionysus as a great blessing, beheld the sword secretly hanging by a hair above
his head, and so learned what kind of happiness comes as the result of worldly power
(Cicer. 5, Tusc.) Thus did I too learn by constant experience, I who had been exalted from
the condition of a poor monk to the dignity of an abbot, that my wretchedness increased
with my wealth; and I would that the ambition of those who voluntarily seek such power
might be curbed by my example.
And now, most dear brother in Christ and comrade closest to me in the intimacy of
speech, it should suffice for your sorrows and the hardships you have endured that I have
written this story of my own misfortunes, amid which I have toiled almost from the cradle.
For so, as I said in the beginning of this letter, shall you come to regard your
tribulation as nought, or at any rate as little, in comparison with mine, and so shall you
bear it more lightly in measure as you regard it as less. Take comfort ever in the saying
of Our Lord, what he foretold for his followers at the hands of the followers of the
devil: "If they have persecuted me, they will also persecute you (John xv. 20). If
the world hate you, ye know that it hated me before it hated vou. If ye were of the world,
the world would love his own" (ib. 18-19). And the apostle says: "All that will
live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution" (II Tim. iii. 12). And elsewhere
he says: "I do not seek to please men. For if I yet pleased men I should not be the
servant of Christ" (Galat. i. 10). And the Psalmist says: "They who have been
pleasing to men have been confounded, for that God hath despised them."
Commenting on this, St. Jerome, whose heir methinks I am in the endurance of foul
slander, says in his letter to Nepotanius: "The apostle says: 'If I yet pleased men,
I should not be the servant of Christ.' He no longer seeks to please men, and so is made
Christ's servant" (Epist. 2). And again, in his letter to Asella regarding those whom
he was falsely accused of loving: "I give thanks to my God that I am worthy to be one
whom the world hates" (Epist. 99). And to the monk Heliodorus he writes: "You
are wrong, brother. You are wrong if you think there is ever a time when the Christian
does not suffer persecution. For our adversary goes about as a roaring lion seeking what
he may devour, and do you still think of peace? Nay, he lieth in ambush among the
rich."
Inspired by those records and examples, we should endure our persecutions all the more
steadfastly the more bitterly they harm us. We should not doubt that even if they are not
according to our deserts, at least they serve for the purifying of our souls. And since
all things are done in accordance with the divine ordering, let every one of true faith
console himself amid all his afflictions with the thought that the great goodness of God
permits nothing to be done without reason, and brings to a good end whatsoever may seem to
happen wrongfully. Wherefore rightly do all men say: "Thy will be done." And
great is the consolation to all lovers of God in the word of the Apostle when he says:
"We know that all things work together for good to them that love God" (Rom.
viii. 28). The wise man of old had this in mind when he said in his Proverbs: "There
shall no evil happen to the just" (Prov. xii. 21). By this he clearly shows that
whosoever grows wrathful for any reason against his sufferings has therein departed from
the way of the just, because he may not doubt that these things have happened to him by
divine dispensation. Even such are those who yield to their own rather than to the divine
purpose, and with hidden desires resist the spirit which echoes in the words, "Thy
will be done," thus placing their own will ahead of the will of God. Farewell.
~ FINIS ~