The Lives of the Fathers, Martyrs, and Principal Saints Part 77

From their genuine acts compiled by Esalas, a n.o.ble Armenian knight in the troops of king Sapor, an eye witness; published in the original Chaldaic, by Stephen a.s.semani, Act. Mart. Orient. t. 1, p. 211. They were much adulterated by the Greeks in Metaphrastes. Ruinart and Tillemont think Sapor raised no persecution before his fortieth year: but a.s.semani proves from these acts, and several other monuments, a persecution in his eighteenth year. See Praef. Gen. and p. 214, app.

A.D. 327.

KING SAPOR, in the eighteenth year of his reign, raised a b.l.o.o.d.y persecution against the Christians, and demolished their churches and monasteries. Jonas and Barachisius, two brothers of the city Beth-Asa, hearing that several Christians lay under sentence of death at Hubaham, went thither to encourage and serve them. Nine of that number received the crown of martyrdom. After their execution, Jonas and Barachisius were apprehended for having exhorted them to die. The president mildly entreated the two brothers to obey the king of kings, meaning the king of Persia, and to wors.h.i.+p the sun, moon, fire, and water. Their answer was, that it was more reasonable to obey the immortal King of heaven and earth than a mortal prince. The Magians were much offended to hear their king called mortal. By their advice the martyrs were separated, and Barachisius was cast into a very narrow close dungeon. Jonas they detained with them, endeavoring to persuade him to sacrifice to fire, the sun, and water. The prince of the Magians, seeing him inflexible, caused him to be laid fiat on his belly with a stake under his navel, and to be beaten both with knotty clubs and with rods. The martyr all the time continued in prayer, saying: "I thank you, O G.o.d of our father Abraham. Enable me, I beseech you, to offer to you acceptable holocausts. _One thing I have asked of the Lord: this will I seek after_.[1] The sun, moon, fire, and water I renounce: I believe and confess the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost." The judge ordered him next to be set in a frozen pond, with a cord tied to his foot. After supper, and a short nap, he sent for Barachisius, and told him his brother had sacrificed. The martyr said it was impossible that he should have paid divine honors to fire, a vile creature, and spoke much on the immensity and power of G.o.d, and with such, eloquence and force that the Magians were astonished to hear him, and said one to another, that if he were permitted to speak in public, he would draw over many from their religion. Whereupon they concluded for the future to hold his interrogatories in the night. In the mean time they caused two red-hot iron plates, and two red-hot hammers, to be applied under each arm, and said to him: "If you shake off either of these, by the king's fortune, you deny Christ." He meekly replied: "I fear not your fire; nor shall I throw off your instruments of torture. I beg you to try without delay all your torments on me. He who is engaged in combat for G.o.d is full of courage." They ordered melted lead to be dropped into his nostrils and eyes; and that he should then be carried to prison, and there hung up by one foot. Jonas, after this, being brought out of his pool, the Magians said to him: "How do you find yourself this morning? We imagine you pa.s.sed the {673} last night out very uncomfortably." "No," replied Jonas; "from the day I came into the world, I never remember a night more sweet and agreeable: for I was wonderfully refreshed by the remembrance of Christ's sufferings." The Magians said: "Your companion hath renounced." The martyr, interrupting them, answered: "I know that he hath long ago renounced the devil and his angels." The Magians urged: "Take care lest you perish, abandoned both by G.o.d and man." Jonas replied: "If you are really wise, as you boast, judge if it be not better to sow the corn than to keep it h.o.a.rded up. Our life is a seed sown to rise again in the world to come, when it will be renewed by Christ in immortal light." The Magians said: "Your books have drawn many aside." Jonas answered: "They have indeed drawn many from worldly pleasures. When a servant of Christ is in his sufferings inebriated with love from the pa.s.sion of his Lord, he forgets the transitory state of this short life, its riches, estates, gold, and honors; regardless of kings and princes, lords and n.o.blemen, where an eternity is at stake, he desires nothing but the sight of the only true King, whose empire is everlasting, and whose power reaches to all ages." The judges commanded all his fingers and toes to be cut off, joint by joint, and scattered about. Then they said to him: "Now wait the harvest to reap other hands from this seed." To whom he said: "Other hands I do not ask. G.o.d is present, who first framed me, and who will give me new strength." After this, the skin was torn off the martyr's head, his tongue was cut out, and he was thrown into a vessel of boiling pitch; but the pitch by a sudden ebullition running over, the servant of G.o.d was not hurt by it.

The judges next ordered him to be squeezed in a wooden press till his veins, sinews, and fibres burst. Lastly, his body was sawn with an iron saw, and, by pieces, thrown into a dry cistern. Guards were appointed to watch the sacred relics, lest Christians should steal them away. The judges then called upon Barachisius to spare his own body. To whom he said: "This body I did not frame, neither will I destroy it. G.o.d its maker will again restore it and will judge you and your king."

Hormisdatscirus, turning to Maharnarsces, said: "By our delays we affront the king. These men regard neither words nor torments." They therefore agreed that he should be beaten with sharp-pointed rushes; then that splinters of reeds should be applied to his body, and by cords strait drawn and pulled, should be pressed deep into his flesh, and that in this condition his body, pierced all over with sharp spikes, armed like a porcupine, should be rolled on the ground. After these tortures, he was put into the screw or press, and boiling pitch and brimstone were poured into his mouth. By this last torment he obtained a crown equal to that of his brother. Under their most exquisite tortures they thought they bought heaven too cheap. Upon the news of their death, Abtusciatus, an old friend, came and purchased their bodies for five hundred drachms and three silk garments, binding himself also by oath never to divulge the sale. The acts are closed by these words: "This book was written from the mouths of witnesses, and contains the acts of the saints, Jonas, Barachisius, and others, martyrs of Christ, who by his succor fought, triumphed, and were crowned, in whose prayers we beg place may be found, by Esaias, son of Adabus of Arzun, in Armenia, of the troop of royal hors.e.m.e.n, who was present at their interrogatories and tortures, and who wrote the history of their conflicts." They were crowned on the 29th of the moon of December. This was the 24th of that month, in the year of Christ 327, of Sopar II. the 18th. The Roman Martyrology mentions them on the 29th of March.

Those powerful motives which supported the martyrs under the sharpest {674} torments, ought to inspire us with patience, resignation, and holy joy, under sickness and all crosses or trials. These are the times of the greatest spiritual harvest, by the exercise of the most perfect virtues. For nothing is more heroic in the practice of Christian virtue, nothing more precious in the sight of G.o.d, than the sacrifice of patience, submission, constant fidelity and charity in a state of suffering. Under sickness we are too apt eagerly to desire health, that we may be able to do something for G.o.d, and to discharge the obligations of our profession, as we persuade ourselves. This is a mere invention of self-love, which is impatient under the weight of humiliation. Nothing, indeed, is more severe to nature than such a state of death, and there is nothing which it is not desirous of doing, to recover that active life, which carries an air of importance by making an appearance in the tumultuous scene of the world. But how much does the soul generally lose by such an exchange! Ah! did we but truly know how great are the spiritual advantages and riches, and how great the glory of patience founded upon motives of true charity, and how precious the victories and triumphs are which it gains over self-love, we should rejoice too much in a state of suffering and humiliation ever to entertain any inordinate desires of changing it. We should only ask for health in sickness under this condition, if it be more expedient for G.o.d's honor and our spiritual advancement. With St. Paul, we should find a joy and delight in a state of privation and suffering, in which we enter into a true sense of our absolute weakness, feel that we are nothing, and have no reliance but on G.o.d alone.

Footnotes: 1. Psa. xxvi 4.

SS. ARMOGASTES, ARCHINIMUS, AND SATURUS,

MARTYRS.

GENSERIC, the Arian king of the Vandals, to Africa, having, on his return out of Italy, in 457, enacted new penal laws, and severer than any he had till then put in force against Catholics, count Armogastes was on that occasion deprived of his honors and dignities at court, and most cruelly tortured. But no sooner had the jailers bound him with cords, but they broke of themselves, as the martyr lifted up his eyes to heaven; and this happened several times. And though they afterwards hung him up by one foot with his head downwards for a considerable time, the saint was no more affected by this torment than if he had lain all the while at his ease on a feather-bed. Theodoric, the king's son, thereupon ordered his head to be struck off: but one of his Arian priests diverted him from it, advising him to take other measures with him to prevent his being looked upon as a martyr by those of his party, which would be of disservice to the opposite cause. He was therefore sent into Byzacena to work in the mines; and some time after, for his greater disgrace, he was removed thence into the neighborhood of Carthage, and employed in keeping cows. But he looked upon it as his glory to be dishonored before men in the cause of G.o.d. It was not long before he had a revelation that his end drew near. So having foretold the time of his death, and given orders to a devout Christian about the place where he desired to be interred, the holy confessor, a few days after, went to receive the rewards of those that suffer in the cause of truth.

Archinimus, of the city Mascula, in Numidia, resisted all the artifices which the king could use to overcome his faith, and was condemned to be beheaded, but was reprieved while he stood under the axe. Satur, or Saturus, was master of the household to Huneric, by whom he was threatened to be deprived of his estate, goods, slaves, wife, and children for his faith. {675} His own wife omitted nothing in her power to prevail with him to purchase his pardon at the expense of his conscience. But he courageously answered her in the words of Job: "_You have spoken like one of the foolish women_.[1] If you loved me, you would give me different advice, and not push me on to a second death.

Let them do their worst: I will always remember our Lord's words: _If any man come to me, and hate not his father and mother, his wife and children, his brethren and sisters, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple_."[2] He suffered many torments, was stripped of all his substance, forbid ever to appear in public, and reduced to great distress. But G.o.d enriched him with his graces, and called him to himself. See St. Victor Vitensis, Hist. Persec. Vandal, l. 1, n. 14.

Footnotes: 1. Job ii. 9.

2. Luke xiv. 26.

ST. EUSTASIUS, OR EUSTACHIUS,

ABBOT OF LUXEU,

SUCCEEDED his master St. Columban in that charge, in 611. He sanctified himself by humility, continual prayer, watching, and fasting; was the spiritual father of six hundred monks, and of many holy bishops and saints, and died in 625. He is named in the Martyrologies of Ado, and in the Roman. See his life by Jonas, his colleague, in the Bollandists, and in Mabillon.

ST. GUNDLEUS, CONFESSOR.

THIS saint, who was formerly honored with great devotion in Wales, was son to the king of the Dimetians in South-Wales. After the death of his father, though the eldest son, he divided the kingdom with his six brothers who nevertheless respected and obeyed him as if he had been their sovereign. He married Gladusa, daughter of Braghan, prince of that country, which is called from him Brecknocks.h.i.+re, and was father of St.

Canoe and St. Keyna. St. Gundleus had by her the great St. Cadoc, who afterwards founded the famous monastery of Llancarvan, three miles from Cowbridge, in Glamorgans.h.i.+re. Gundleus lived so as to have always in view the heavenly kingdom for which we are created by G.o.d. To secure this, he retired wholly from the world long before his death, and pa.s.sed his time in a solitary little dwelling near a church which he had built.

His clothing was sackcloth, his food barley-bread, upon which he usually strewed ashes, and his drink was water. Prayer and contemplation were his constant occupation, to which he rose at midnight, and he subsisted by the labor of his hands: thus he lived many years. Some days before his death he sent for St. Dubritius and his son St. Cadoc, and by their a.s.sistance, and the holy rites of the church, prepared himself for his pa.s.sage to eternity. He departed to our Lord towards the end of the fifth century, and was glorified by miracles. See his life in Capgrave and Henschenius, from the collection of John of Tinmouth. See also bishop Usher.

ST. MARK, BISHOP AND CONFESSOR.

SOME Greeks rank among the saints on this day, Mark, bishop of Arethusa, in Syria, in the fourth age. When Constantius put to death his uncle, {676} Julius Constantius, brother of Constantine the Great, with his eldest son; the two younger, Gallus and Julian, narrowly escaped the sword. In that danger Mark concealed Julian, and secretly supplied him with necessaries for his subsistence. When Julian became emperor, he commanded that the temples which had been demolished by Christians, during the two preceding reigns, should be rebuilt at their expense.

Mark had, by the authority of Constantius, demolished a very magnificent temple which was held in great veneration by the idolaters: he had also built a church, and converted a great number of infidels. Authorized by the law of Julian, the heathens of Arethusa, when they saw themselves uppermost, fell on the Christians; and Mark, finding that they were ready to show their resentment against him in particular, which they had long concealed, he at first, pursuant to the gospel precept, betook himself to flight to escape their fury. But understanding that they had apprehended some of his flock instead of him, he returned and delivered himself up to the persecutors, to animate others in the same cause by his example and instructions. They seized him soon after his return, dragged him through the streets by the hair, or any part they could lay hold of, without the least compa.s.sion for his age, or regard for his virtue and learning. Having stripped him, and scourged him all over his body, joining ignominy and insults with cruelty, they threw him into the stinking public jakes. Having taken him from thence, they left him to the children, ordering them to p.r.i.c.k and pierce him, without mercy, with their writing-styles, or steel pencils. They bound his legs with cords so tight as to cut and bruise his flesh to the very bone; they wrung off his ears with small strong threads; and in this maimed, b.l.o.o.d.y condition, they pushed him from one to another. After this they rubbed him over with honey and fat broth; and shutting him up in a kind of cage, hung him up in the air where the sun was most scorching, at noonday, in the midst of summer, in order to draw the wasps and gnats upon him, whose stings are exceeding sharp and piercing in those hot countries. He was so calm in the midst of his sufferings, that, though so sorely wounded and covered with flies and wasps, he bantered them as he hung in the air; telling them, that while they were grovelling on the earth, he was raised by them towards heaven. They frequently solicited him to rebuild their temple, but though they reduced their demands by degrees to a trifling sum, he constantly answered, that it would be an impiety to give them one farthing towards such a work. This indeed would be to concur to idolatrous wors.h.i.+p; but his demolis.h.i.+ng the temple would have been against the order of law and justice, had he done it without public authority. At length the fury of the people was turned into admiration of his patience, and they set him at liberty; and several of them afterwards begged of him to instruct them in the principles of a religion which was capable of inspiring such a resolution. Having spent the remainder of his life in the faithful discharge of the duties of his station, he died in peace under Jovian or Valens. He is not named in the Roman Martyrology, nor venerated by the church among the saints. He had been long engaged in the errors and intrigues of the Semi-Arians; but the encomiums given him by St. Gregory n.a.z.ianzen, Theodoret, and Sozomen, when they relate his sufferings, show that towards the end of the reign of Constantius, he joined in the orthodox communion.

{677}

MARCH x.x.x.

ST. JOHN CLIMACUS, ABBOT.

From his life written by Daniel, a monk of Raithu, soon after his death, and from his own works. See Bulteau, Hist Monast. d'Orient, and d'Andilly, or rather his nephew, Le Maitre, in his life prefixed to the French translation of his works. See also Jos. a.s.semani, in Cal. Univ.

ad 30 Martii, t. 6, p. 213.

A.D. 605.

ST. JOHN, generally distinguished by the appellation of Climacus, from his excellent book ent.i.tled Climax, or the Ladder to Perfection, was born about the year 525, probably in Palestine. By his extraordinary progress in the arts and sciences, he obtained very young the surname of the Scholastic. But at sixteen years of age he renounced all the advantages which the world promised him, to dedicate himself to G.o.d in a religious state, in 547. He retired to Mount Sinai, which, from the time of the disciples of St. Antony and St. Hilarion, had been always peopled by holy men, who, in imitation of Moses, when he received the law on that mountain, lived in the perpetual contemplation of heavenly things.

Our novice, fearing the danger of dissipation and relaxation, to which numerous communities are generally more exposed than others, chose not to live in the great monastery on the summit, but in a hermitage on the descent of the mountain, under the discipline of Martyrius, a holy ancient anch.o.r.et. By silence, he curbed the insolent itch of talking about every thing, an ordinary vice in learned men, but usually a mark of pride and self-sufficiency. By perfect humility and obedience, he banished the dangerous desire of self-complacency in his actions. He never contradicted, never disputed with any one. So perfect was his submission, that he seemed to have no self-will. He undertook to sail through the deep sea of this mortal life securely, under the direction of a prudent guide, and shunned those rocks which he could not have escaped, had he presumed to steer alone, as he tells us.[1] From the visible mountain he raised his heart, without interruption, in all his actions, to G.o.d, who is invisible; and, attentive to all the motions of his grace, studied only to do his will. Four years he spent in the trial of his own strength, and in learning the obligations of his state, before he made his religious profession, which was in the twentieth year of his age. In his writings, he severely condemns engagements made by persons too young, or before a sufficient probation. By fervent prayer and fasting he prepared himself for the solemn consecration of himself to G.o.d, that the most intense fervor might make his holocaust the more perfect: and from that moment he seemed to be renewed in spirit; and his master admired the strides with which, like a mighty giant, the young disciple advanced, daily more and more, towards G.o.d by self-denial, obedience, humility, and the uninterrupted exercises of divine love and prayer.

In the year 560, and the thirty-fifth of his age, he lost Martyrius by death, having then spent nineteen years in that place in penance and holy contemplation. By the advice of a prudent director, he then embraced an eremitical life in a plain called Thole, near the foot of Mount Sinai. His cell was five miles from the church, probably the same which had been built a little {678} before, by order of the emperor Justinian, for the use of the monks, at the bottom of this mountain, in honor of the Blessed Virgin, as Procopius mentions.[2] Thither he went every Sat.u.r.day and Sunday to a.s.sist, with all the other anch.o.r.ets and monks of that desert, at the holy office and at the celebration of the divine mysteries, when they all communicated. His diet was very sparing, though, to shun ostentation and the danger of vain-glory, he ate of every thing that was allowed among the monks of Egypt, who universally abstained from flesh, fish, &c. Prayer was his princ.i.p.al employment; and he practised what he earnestly recommends to all Christians, that in all their actions, thoughts, and words, they should keep themselves with great fervor in the presence of G.o.d, and direct all they do to his holy will.[3] By habitual contemplation he acquired an extraordinary purity of heart, and such a facility of lovingly beholding G.o.d in all his works, that this practice seemed in him a second nature. Thus he accompanied his studies with perpetual prayer. He a.s.siduously read the holy scriptures, and fathers, and was one of the most learned doctors of the church. But, to preserve the treasure of humility, he concealed, as much as possible, both his natural and acquired talents, and the extraordinary graces with which the Holy Ghost enriched his soul. By this secrecy he fled from the danger of vain-glory, which, like a leech, sticks to our best actions, and sucking from them its nourishment, robs us of their fruit. As if this cell had not been sufficiently remote from the eyes of men, St. John frequently retired into a neighboring cavern, which he had made in the rock, where no one could come to disturb his devotions, or interrupt his tears. So ardent were his charity and compunction, that his eyes seemed two fountains, which scarce ever ceased to flow; and his continual sighs and groans to heaven, under the weight of the miseries inseparable from his moral pilgrimage, were not to be equalled by the vehemency of the cries of those who suffer from knives and fire. Overcome by importunities, he admitted a holy anch.o.r.et named Moyses to live with him as his disciple.

G.o.d bestowed on St. John an extraordinary grace of healing the spiritual disorders of souls. Among others, a monk called Isaac, was brought almost to the brink of despair by most violent temptations of the flesh.

He addressed himself to St. John; who perceived by his tears how much he underwent from that conflict and struggle which he felt within himself.

The servant of G.o.d commended his faith, and said: "My son, let us have recourse to G.o.d by prayer." They accordingly prostrated themselves together on the ground in fervent supplication for a deliverance, and from that time the infernal serpent left Isaac to peace. Many others resorted to St. John for spiritual advice: but the devil excited some to jealousy, who censured him as one who, out of vanity, lost much time in unprofitable discourse. The saint took this accusation, which was a mere calumny, in good part, and as a charitable admonition; he therefore imposed on himself a rigorous silence for near a twelvemonth. This his humility and modesty so much astonished his calumniators, that they joined the rest of the monks in beseeching him to rea.s.sume his former function of giving charitable advice to all that resorted to him for it, and not to bury that talent of science which he had received for the benefit of many. He who knew not what it was to contradict others, with the same humility and deference again opened his mouth to instruct his neighbor in the rules of perfect virtue: in which office, such was the reputation of his wisdom and experience, that he was regarded as another Moses in that holy place.

St. John was now seventy-five years old, and had spent forty of them in {679} his hermitage, when, in the year six hundred, he was unanimously chosen abbot of Mount Sinai, and superior-general of all the monks and hermits in that country. Soon after he was raised to this dignity, the people of Palestine and Arabia, in the time of a great drought and famine, made their application to him as to another Elias, begging him to intercede with G.o.d in their behalf. The saint failed not with great earnestness to recommend their distress to the Father of mercies, and his prayer was immediately recompensed with abundant rains. St. Gregory the Great., who then sat in St. Peter's chair, wrote to our holy abbot,[4] recommending himself to his prayers, and sent him beds, with other furniture and money, for his hospital, for the use of pilgrims near Mount Sinai. John, who had used his utmost endeavors to decline the pastoral charge, when he saw it laid upon him, neglected no means which might promote the sanctification of all those who were entrusted to his care. That posterity might receive some share in the benefit of his holy instructions, John, the learned and virtuous abbot of Raithu, a monastery-situate towards the Red Sea, entreated him by that obedience he had ever practised, even with regard to his inferiors, that he would draw up the most necessary rules by which fervent souls might arrive at Christian perfection. The saint answered him, that nothing but extreme humility could have moved him to write to so miserable a sinner, dest.i.tute of every sort of virtue; but that he received his commands with respect, though far above his strength, never considering his own insufficiency. Wherefore, apprehensive of falling into death by disobedience, he took up his pen in haste, with great eagerness mixed with fear, and set himself to draw some imperfect outlines as an unskilful painter, leaving them to receive from him, as a great master, the finis.h.i.+ng strokes. This produced the excellent work which he called Climax, or the ladder of religious perfection. This book being written in sentences, almost in the manner of aphorisms, abounds more in sense than words. A certain majestic simplicity, an inexpressible unction and spirit of humility, joined with conciseness and perspicuity, very much enhance the value of this performance: but its chief merit consists in the sublime sentiments, and perfect description of all Christian virtues, which it contains. The author confirms his precepts by several edifying examples, as of obedience and penance.[5] In describing a monastery of three hundred and thirty monks, which he had visited near Alexandria in Egypt, he mentions one of the princ.i.p.al citizens of that city, named Isidore, who, pet.i.tioning to be admitted into the house, said to the abbot: "As iron is in the hands of the smith, so am I in your hands." The abbot ordered him to remain without the gate, and to prostrate himself at the feet of everyone that pa.s.sed by, begging their prayers for his soul struck with a leprosy. Thus he pa.s.sed seven years in profound humility and patience. He told St. John, that during the first year he always considered himself as a slave condemned for his sins, and sustained violent conflicts. The second year he pa.s.sed in tranquillity and confidence; and the third with relish and pleasure in his humiliations. So great was his virtue, that the abbot determined to present him to the bishop in order to be promoted to the priesthood, but the humility of the holy penitent prevented the execution of that design; for having begged at least a respite, he died within ten days.

St. John could not help admiring the cook of this numerous community, who seemed always recollected, and generally bathed in tears amidst his continual occupation, and asked him by what means he nourished so perfect a spirit of compunction, in the midst of such a dissipating laborious employment. He said, that serving the monks, he represented to himself that he was serving not men, but G.o.d in his servants {680} and that the fire he always had before his eyes, reminded him of that fire which will burn souls for all eternity. The moving description which our author gives of the monastery of penitents called the Prison, above a mile from the former, hath been already abridged in our language. John the Sabaite told our saint, as of a third person, that seeing himself respected in his monastery, he considered that this was not the way to satisfy for his sins. Wherefore, with the leave of his abbot, he repaired to a severe monastery in Pontus, and after three years saw in a dream a schedule of his debts, to the amount in appearance of one hundred pounds of gold, of which only ten were cancelled. He therefore repeated often to himself: "Poor Antiochus, thou hast still great debt to satisfy." After pa.s.sing over thirteen years in contempt and the most fervent practices of penance, he deserved to see in a vision his whole debt blotted out. Another monk, in a grievous fit of illness, fell into a trance, in which he lay as if he had been dead for the s.p.a.ce of an hour: but recovering, he shut himself up in his cell, and lived a recluse twelve years, almost continually weeping, in the perpetual meditation of death. When he was near death, his brethren could only extort from him these words of edification: "He who hath death always before his eyes, will never sin." John, abbot of Raithu, explained this book of our saint by judicious comments, which are also extant. We have likewise a letter of St. John Climacus to the same person, concerning the duties of a pastor, in which he exhorts him in correcting others to temper severity with mildness, and encourages him zealously to fulfil the obligations of his charge; for nothing is greater or more acceptable to G.o.d than to offer him the sacrifice of rational souls sanctified by penance and charity.

St. John sighed continually under the weight of his dignity, during the four years that he governed the monks of Mount Sinai: and as he had taken upon him that burden with fear and reluctance, he with joy found means to resign the same a little before his death. Heavenly contemplation, and the continual exercise of divine love and praise, were his delight and comfort in his earthly pilgrimage: and in this imitation of the functions of the blessed spirits in heaven he placeth the essence of the monastic state.[6] In his excellent maxims concerning the gift of holy tears, the fruit of charity,[7] we seem to behold a lively portraiture of his most pure soul. He died in his hermitage on the 30th day of March, in 605, being fourscore years old. His spiritual son George, who had succeeded him in the abbacy, earnestly begged of G.o.d that he might not be separated from his dear master and guide, and followed him by a happy death within a few days. On several Greek commentaries on St. John Climacus's ladder, see Montfaucon, Biblioth.

Coisliana, pp. 305, 306.

St. John Climacus, speaking of the excellence and the effects of charity, does it with a feeling and energy worthy of such a subject. "A mother," says he,[8] "feels less pleasure when she folds within her arms the dear infant whom she nourishes with her own milk, than the true child of charity does, when united, as he incessantly is, to his G.o.d, and folded as if were in the arms of his heavenly Father.[9]--Charity operates in some persons so as to carry them almost entirely out of themselves. It illuminates others, and fills them with such sentiments of joy, that they cannot help crying out: _The Lord is my helper and my protector: in him hath my heart confided, and I have been helped. And my flesh hath flourished again, and with my will I will give praise to him_.[10] This joy which they feel in their hearts, is reflected on their countenances; and when once G.o.d has united, or, as we may say, {681} incorporated them with his charity, he displays in their exterior, as in the reflection of a mirror, the brightness and serenity of their souls: even as Moses, being honored with a sight of G.o.d, was encompa.s.sed round by his glory." St. John Climacus composed the following prayer to obtain the gift of charity: "My G.o.d, I pretend to nothing upon this earth, except to be so firmly united to you by prayer, that to be separated from you may be impossible: let others desire riches and glory; for my part, I desire but one thing, and that is, to be inseparably united to you, and to place in you alone all my hopes of happiness and repose."

Footnotes: 1. Gr. l.

2. Procop. l. 5 de aedif. Justin.

3. S. Jo. Clim. gr. 27, n. 67.

4. St. Greg. l. 11; Ep. 1, l. 12; Ep. 16, t. 2, p. 1091.

5. Gr. 4 and 5.

6. Gr. 1.

7. Gr. 7, 27, 30.

8. Grad. 30, n. 12.

9. Gr {} n. 14.

10. Ps. xxvii.

S. ZOZIMUS, BISHOP OF SYRACUSE,

WAS successor to the holy bishop Peter; and faithfully discharged all the duties of a worthy pastor until his death, which happened in 660.

His, name is mentioned in the Roman and Sicilian Martyrologies. See the Bollandists and Baillet.

ST. REGULUS, OR RIEUL,

WHO having converted the country of Senlis to the faith, about the same time that St. Dionysius preached in France, was made first bishop of Senlis, and died in peace in the midst of his flock. See the Bollandists and Tillem. t. 4, p. 719.

MARCH x.x.xI.

SAINT BENJAMIN, DEACON, M.

From Theodoret, Hist. Eccles. l. 5, c. 39, &c.